#visibly shaking lip quivering face turning red

[feed-me-sunlight]

I have some very angry opinions about the end of TNG S7E11 Parallels and I'm just gonna keep them bottled up. Apparently this situation just escalates and I am so not fucking here for it literally who asked for this why would you do this etc etc etc

[flowerandblood]

Duty and desire (Oneshot)

[ canon • Aemond x niece • wife female ]

[ warnings: incest obviously, sex content, smut, angst, praise kink activated, lactation kink, fluff ]

[ description: An incident between her husband and their sons causes her uncle to completely break down. She decides to show him how deep her feelings are towards him and to comfort him. A heartbroken, vulnerable, infatuated Aemond in need of simple tenderness. ]

Author’s note: The events of this oneshot are part of the canon of The Fall from the Heavens series and feature the same characters. I couldn't sleep and that's how I mentally coped with what I saw in the second episode of the second season. You're welcome, lol. If you still didn't watch it, wait with reading it (if you don't like any kind of spoilers). It can be read as a standalone story.

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

My other works: Masterlist

_____

He had returned to their chamber earlier, tense and visibly frustrated despite the fact that he usually spent that part of the day sparring with their sons, training them in the wielding of the sword.

She smiled at him from above her book, watching as he involuntarily looked into the cradle where Visenya slept peacefully.

The birth of their first daughter was joyous news for the entire kingdom, including them.

"So early?" She asked, spreading out comfortably in her chair, curious about this change of plans. Her uncle only pursed his lips at her words, walking over to the table where she sat and reached for a cup, into which he poured himself a little wine.

He remained silent.

A bad sign.

"What's happened?" She asked immediately, seeing that hundreds of thoughts were currently running through his mind, which if they did not find an outlet would eventually explode in the form of his fury.

He took a few deep sips from his goblet without looking at her, setting it down with a loud clink of steel on the table.

"Viserys and Aegon have suggested that Ser Robert should be the one to train them today. They apparently want to become archers." He said with a sneer and anger that startled her. She swallowed hard, closing the book, understanding full well that his words were only the tip of what he was really thinking about.

"In your presence they always feel they have to prove themselves. They're afraid of being ridiculed in front of you. Maybe it's…"

"At their age I dreamt of my father doing for me what I do for them. This is our time together." He growled, looking out of the corner of his eye into the area where she sat, but not directly at her, immersed in his thoughts, memories and regrets.

"I know." She whispered and her words, something about the way she said them made his lip tremble, made him lower his head in shame and cover his face with his hand, drawing in air loudly.

"They are terrified at the sight of me. Both of them. They don't love me, they just fear me. Their own father." He mouthed, his quivering voice betraying that although he tried to control himself, something about the thought had broken him.

She stood up from her seat, shaking her head, coming up to him quickly, wanting to touch his arm with her hand, but he moved away and turned his head, not wanting her to see what was happening to him.

"If you could hear with what pride and admiration they speak of you when you are not there. They so desperately want to please you." She muttered in pain, feeling a squeeze in her heart at the thought that he might have believed he was a bad father, when they both knew how hard he tried.

"To please me? My sons, they live to please me? And if they don't then what will happen to them? Hm?" He asked and fell silent, looking at her at last, his eye red with grief and despair, his face simultaneously red and pale with emotion, his lips parted in a heavy breath.

He covered his eyes with his hand as he burst into silent sobs, as if he had not stifled the thought for a day or a month, but for years, ever since their first son had been born.

She looked at him in disbelief, stunned, at the same time hurt and saddened by his words, by the thought of how he judged and perceived himself.

"Looking into my eyes do you see anything other than love?" She asked, renewing her attempt, taking a step towards him, and this time he didn't pushed her away, looking at her uncertainly.

"– it's something else –" He whispered.

"– how can it be? – do you think I would love a man who is a bad father to my children? –" She asked further, and he swallowed hard, trying to calm his breathing, his cheeks red from tears.

"– stop it –" He said and turned away, wiping his face, walking to the other side of the room, embarrassed and ashamed of his weakness.

"– sit down on the bed, husband – I want to explain a few things to you –" She finally said.

He sighed heavily and did as she asked, making room beside himself, looking down at his hands, heartbroken. She, however, walked up to him and did not sit next to him, but on his lap, surprising him by taking his warm, red face in her hands, stroking his moist skin with her thumbs.

For a moment she simply looked at him, all helpless and vulnerable, feeling the heat in her chest.

"– you're defending our family – you're the rock that protects us – you have to show strength – be determined – and that's hard when you're king and father at the same time – the burden of the crown is great and you know it – you're trying to prepare them for it –" She whispered, with each successive word placing kisses on his red face: on his forehead, his temple, his eyebrows, his eyelid, his cheekbone, his lips, his jaw.

She felt his hands involuntarily rise to her waist, stroking her through the material of her gown.

"– so why don't they understand this? – why do they push me away? –" He muttered, focusing his gaze on her full, plump lips, his manhood hidden in his breeches pulsed softly in a natural reaction to her closeness.

"– because they are still children – children who need their father to love them no matter what – a father who will sometimes let them go their own way –" She said softly, in a gentle, light motion untying the black ribbon at the back of his head, making the front strands of his silver hair fall over his shoulders.

"– I just want to spend time with them like a father with his sons – I want them to need me –" He whispered, and she nodded, letting his broad hand move her hip closer, making her body press against his.

"– I know, my husband – my sweet, sweet husband –" She whispered and heard him draw in the air loudly, surprised, his erection pulsed hard between her thighs.

She licked her lips, wondering if he was aroused by what he was hearing.

"– my husband is so good to me –" She gasped softly, letting their lips join in hot, sticky, lazy kisses, making wonderful heat surge through her body. "– my sweet friend – my sweet boy –"

She shuddered as his fingers tightened on the material of her gown, his throat leaving a sound she had never heard before.

He moaned.

Not the way he usually did, low and deep, when it was on the verge of panting, but high, the way she did when he gave her sweet pleasure.

Their fingers tightened on their bodies, letting their mouths find each other in greedy, violent, deep kisses – his cock between her thighs swelled all over and pulsed, hot, betraying that he was now completely ready to possess her.

"– I love you – please –" He muttered, forcibly ripping her gown off her shoulders, exposing her naked breasts, all swollen with milk. Something like a sigh of delight and relief left his throat as he sank his face into her sternum, his thumbs stroking and teasing her nipples hard from the cold.

She moaned as she tilted her head back, untying the material of his breeches, feeling the wonderful, pleasurable wetness between her thighs, proving that she was ready to receive him deep inside her.

"– my sweet husband deserve to be soothed – doesn't he? – to feel his beloved wife – how warm she is – how wet she is –" She whispered, cupping his swollen, quivering erection in her palm, feeling how incredibly hard it was, its tip thick and smooth, dripping with his moisture.

"– yes –" He mumbled in shame, directing one of her breasts to his face, holding it in his hand, finding her nipple with his mouth, beginning to suck it loudly along with her milk as she guided the head of his cock against her pulsing slit.

"– ah – my husband is so hard for me – makes me feel so fucking good – so, so big –" She cooed, sinking slowly onto his manhood only to lift herself on it with a loud click of her wetness, opening her thirsty, fleshy cunt again and again on his long, throbbing erection.

"– f-fuck –" He exhaled, embarrassed, imposing a fast, aggressive pace on her at once, clearly aroused by what she was saying and how she was behaving, needing her affection, her acceptance, her closeness, everything he couldn't ask of anyone else outside the door of their chamber.

"– it's all yours, my dearest – I can ride you all night – you'll fill me with your seed as many times as I need, won't you? –" She gasped, and he groaned loudly into the skin of her breasts, clamping his hot hands on her hips, pounding into her like there was no tomorrow, panting and quivering along with her.

She wasn't sure she had ever experienced a similar orgasm, so overpowering, hot, soothing, delightful.

"– f-fuck – f-fuck, Aemond, yes –" She whimpered, throwing her head back as she felt his body convulse, his warm seed filling her womb wit his low moans of pleasure.

He released her nipple from his mouth, panting heavily, snuggling his cheek into her chest, letting her arms embrace him in a tight grip, her lips placing tender, hot kisses on his hair.

"– forgive me – I'm ashamed – I –"

"– you are my husband – let me give you relief when you need it –" She whispered, combing her fingers through his long hair.

"– but – it was –"

"– a husband can show tenderness and understanding to his wife, but a wife to her husband cannot? –" She asked in pain, and he swallowed hard, letting out a loud, shuddering breath.

"– it won't happen again –" He muttered, needing, apparently, for her to tell that lie so he could stop thinking about how weak he was, how he needed it, how pleasant it was.

That he would beg in his mind for more.

More of her tenderness.

More of her praise.

More of her love.

"– as you wish –"

[piftamere]

satoru ending (wc : 1.6k ; cw : hospital room, brief description of the crash, mentions of death)

in your hospital bed, you feel small, you look small too. you're paler than usual, dark circles surround your tired eyes. you broke your left arm and now a cast envelops it.

“never scare me like that again” and a couple “i love you”s can be read on the white bandages, written by yuuji and kugisaki. flowers, ballons and a teddy bear decorate your room.

the doctor came by earlier, you're going to be okay. you should be out of the hospital in a few days. the police came too but megumi told them to come back tomorrow. you’re thankful he did.

megumi, yuuji and kugi look exhausted but they're smiling, you don’t have the heart to ask them to leave so you can rest. their presence is comforting, you’ll sleep later.

your ribs hurt when you breathe and even worse when you laugh, but you still reward yuuji’s poor attempts at lightening the mood with a chuckle. you can tell he needs it, you all need it.

when you recognized the driver as satoru’s former assistant, your heart missed a beat. you asked her to stop the car, but she started ranting to you, accusing you of ruining her life, of using people then discarding them.

you were so scared, you really thought you were going to die in that car. she kept speeding while not focusing on the road. going on and on about how you were a terrible person. and when she swerved off the road to avoid another car, you saw your life flash before your eyes. you saw the faces of everyone you would never get to see again. satoru’s face.

you’ll never forget the fear you felt when the car flipped over.

your thoughts are interrupted by frantic knocks on the bedroom door, megumi invites them in.

satoru walks in, he looks like a shell of himself, his hair is messy, his eyes are red.

“we’ll leave you two alone.” megumi says to you, his hand on your shoulder, before gesturing for everyone else to leave the room.

he sits down in the chair next to your bed, panic still evident in his eyes. “how are you feeling?”

“better now that you’re here.” you give him a soft smile, taking his hand in yours. you see him visibly relax.

“are you in pain?”

“a little, but i’m okay don’t worry.”

“i’ll always worry about you.”

“i know.” you say with a small smile.

“i was so scared.” the words hang in the air, raw and vulnerable. he’s staring down at your joined hands. “it’s my fault it happened. i never thought she’d take it this far, i’m so sorry.”

even if it hurts to speak, you need to say this. for him.

“how could you have guessed that your ex-assistant was insane to the point of stalking me for months and pretend to be my uber to confront me, or kill me i don’t really know what was her plan… that she would lose control of the car and that we’d have an accident. even a psychic couldn’t predict that satoru.”

hearing it out loud, it sounds ridiculous. satoru chuckles halfheartedly, wiping off a stray tear, but he stays silent.

“do you know why i was in that car?” you say barely above a whisper, squeezing his fingers to get his attention. he turns his head to look at you, you can clearly see the tears in his eyes now. he shakes his head.

“because you had an interview?”

“it’s funny because i was doing the interview, answering the same old questions and i started talking about my love for music, how it’s my passion and the only thing i want to do in life, how i feel like it’s what i was born to do you know?” he nods along, “but while i was rambling on and on, something felt wrong, it was different from all the other times i’d given that same speech. because all i could think about was you. that’s how i feel about you too. i love you, and i’m tired of pretending i don’t.”

his eyes widen, bottom lip quivering as he starts full on crying, tears streaming down his face and you panic, trying to wipe them away.

“i didn’t want to make you cry! i’m sorry satoru! i take it ba-” before you can finish your sentence, he places his hand on your mouth.

“don’t even think about taking it back.” he sniffles, melting into your touch, your hand still on his cheek. “i’m just a little emotional today, i’m fine. i love you too, more than you can even imagine.” he takes his hand off your mouth.

you exhale deeply, relieved to see he stopped crying. “okay, good…”

he takes both of your hands in his, looking into your eyes as he speaks. “i know it’s probably not what you want, given how much you love what you do and how hard you worked for all of this, but i need to say it. if this was the one thing that makes you want to quit, i get it. because a part of me wants to convince you to quit too. i don’t think i could stand losing you, these past few hours have felt like a living hell, and i would give up on everything if it meant keeping you safe, next to me. so just say the word, now or in 5 months, and i’ll leave it all behind, for you. If you’ll let me, of couse.” he looks down where your hands are joined, his voice trembling slightly. “but if you choose to keep going, i swear to protect you, i won’t let anything like this happen ever again.”

you take a deep breath, feeling the weight of his words and the sincerity in his eyes. “i’ll think about it,” you say softly. “i’m probably going to take a break but i don’t want to quit. i’m not saying i’ll never change my mind, but i love what i do too much.” you give him a reassuring smile. “and how likely is it that i’d get stalked twice, right?” you chuckle, attempting to lighten the mood.

he shakes his head, a faint smile tugging at his lips but worry still clear on his face.

“i’ve never seen you so serious ‘toru. come on, smile.” you say with a pout, poking his cheek where his dimple usually is. his smile grows a bit but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. still, it’s good enough for now. your voice hoarse, you say warmly, “oh there it is.”

you scoot over to the side of the bed, tapping on the covers to invite him to join you.

“come. you can’t say no, i almost died today.”

“i wouldn't dream of saying no.”

he climbs on, careful not to touch your cast, he wraps his arms around you, gently, like he’s afraid of breaking you.

in his embrace, the tension that has been gripping your body since the accident begins to ease. the steady rhythm of his heartbeat calms you down. you finally feel safe, for the first time since the crash. the hospital room and the pain fade away, and all that remains is the warmth of his body against yours.

you close yours eyes, his fingers trace soothing patterns on your arm.

“can i tell you a story?” his voice is soft, gentle.

you nod, “sure.”

“do you remember when we met?”

“yeah,” you say, a chuckle escaping despite the pain. “i thought you were an asshole.”

he coughs, clearing his throat awkwardly. “well, i was… but…”

“but?” you ask, curiosity piqued.

“but,” he continues, “the moment I saw you, I knew you were going to be someone important to me. you had this fire in your eyes, this determination. even though you were giving me the cold shoulder, i couldn’t help but be drawn to you.”

you tilt your head, gazing up at him. “really? i always thought you just enjoyed getting under my skin.”

he laughs warmly, the sound a comforting wave against your back. “maybe a little. but that was just my way of trying to get close to you. i remember watching you from across the room that first night, thinking, ‘i have to get to know her.’ there was something about you, something that called me.”

the memory of that night comes back to you. “you were so cocky, acting like you owned the place.”

he chuckles a bit sheepishly, a whine escaping his lips, “i’m sorryyyy, i was trying to impress you and it backfired. i really didn’t want to make a fool of myself…”

“and yet you did.” you tease lightly.

“and look where that got me.” he grins, tightening his hold on you.

there’s a moment of silence before he speaks up again, “so… am i your boyfriend now?”

you hum, “hm if you’d do me the honor yes.”

“and you’re my girlfriend?” he whispers into your neck, you can feel him smile against your skin.

“that’s usually how it works yes.” you mumble as you drift off to sleep in his arms.

fun facts :

satoru's the one who changed his contact name to "my pest"

they moved in together a few months after the accident

satoru's already thinking about proposing after one year together and yn has to keep reminding him that they don't have to rush it

megumi and yn still see each other often despite not living together anymore, and they keep working together too

author's note

ignore if some things dont make sense :3

satoru got his happy ending, megumi and maki are next dw !! 😗😗

⋆⭒˚｡⋆ tugging on heartstrings ⋆⭒˚｡⋆

as an aspiring solo artist, you dream of making it big in the music industry. With your talent and unwavering determination, you find yourself entangled in a web of romantic pursuits amidst rumors and betrayal. Will you emerge unscathed and manage to navigate your love life in the chaos of fame?

Part thirty-eight - the end

rbs and interactions are highly appreciated <3

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[theyungihven]

my little plaything ⁕ yunho (ateez) as ghost (cod)

↬ pairing: yunho as ghost × fem reader

↬ genre: smut

↬ warnings: breeding kink, cream pie, pain kink, unprotected sex, hip bruises, biting kink, slut-shaming,, kleptolagnia, yunho is OBSSESSED, stalking

↬ word count: 5.0k+

↬ author’s note: this is dedicated to my beloved boyfriend sam whom i found while writing this and turns out he's a real life manifestation of yunho and ghost in real life so i was like why not write yunho as ghost? so here it is! let me know how you liked in the comments as i have plans of turning this into a full fledged dark romance novel

↬synopsis : you are sleeping peacefully in your bed but the footsteps in your living room awake you, only to look at silver eyes staring back at you as he tilts his head. Simon Ghost Riley breaks into your house asking shelter for the night because he's on the run but you provide him some warmth in the cold weather with the help of your body.

Letting a criminal stay the night wouldn't hurt that bad, would it?

Footsteps echo in my room. They sound as if someone’s walking around my living room. The paranoia follows, awakening me in the middle of the night. 

I see a man with the hood and the skull mask looking out of my window, as if checking for something or perhaps someone in particular. I gulp at the sight of the military grade pistol in his hand.

Fear rises in my chest as it dries my throat.

I can’t really see most of his facial features, except for his mouth and jaw, and a pair of glowing silver eyes. 

He then looks over at me, catching me off guard and tilts his head curiously. The heat courses through my core as shivers run down my spine. The fear scares me as well as the thought of a handsome young man breaking into my house arouses me.

His heavy boots make the wooden floor creak underneath him. He grows closer, approaching me ever so slowly as my anxiety rises and so does the wetness between my thighs. He looks down at me as he stands next to my bed for what feels like forever, quietly assessing me. 

He finally breaks the unnerving silence and decides to speak to me  “Did I wake you up, cupcake?” His deep, monotone British voice makes me flush red. It feels so familiar as if I know him but I can’t pick out from exactly where.

I shake my head, my tongue freezes in fear of the uncertainty about the future. He looks down at me with a slight look of amusement as he notices me trying to lie.

“You’re a bad liar…” he mumbles  “And your voice is quivering.” he says as he takes a seat on the edge of my bed, next to me. The weight of his body pushes down the mattress and it makes me conscious of the sheer night dress I am wearing, so I wrap my blanket around my body. 

“I…I’m-” I struggle to speak.  He gets back on his feet and moves towards me, then places his gloved hand on my cheek and gently rubs it with his thumb.

“Don’t be scared, princess,” he says in a surprisingly gentle and soft tone. I nod, looking up at him with big eyes behind which doesn’t lie a single thought. He continues to quietly caress my cheek for a while and his cold, gentle touches feel strangely soothing. It's hard to look away from his hypnotising silver eyes. His eyes flicker from my own to my body, studying every inch of me, as if he’s trying to figure something out.

"Please don't do anything to me. I'll obey as you say. Just spare my life." I beg, as I clasp my hands together, tears rolling down my cheeks.  His lips curl up into a smirk.

“And why do you think I would hurt you, love?” he asks, his thick British accent making the last word sound almost like a purr. He brushes the tears off the sides of my face with his thumb as his dark eyes intensely stare at me.

“You, you look scary.” I shutter.  He chuckles at my answer.  

“Am I now?” he says, his smirk still visible underneath his mask.

“I assure you, love, I’m not here to hurt you…” he says in a quiet voice while his hand moves down to my chin, tilting my face up to look at him.

“Then.....why? Why are you here?” I ask, my breath hitching. He goes quiet for a moment. His face turns cold and serious as he lets go of me and turns his head away from the bed and towards the window.

He stares out the tinted glass of my bedroom, against which raindrops start splattering. “I’m… hiding from the police…”

“What did you do-?” I gulp nervously as fear takes control of me again. 

He doesn’t look at me as he responds, his gaze fixed outside.  “Let’s just say, they’re not exactly trying to talk to me..” he mumbles as he takes out a silver flask and takes a sip of whatever’s inside, his hands shaking a little bit. He turns around, and looks at my figure sitting on the bed as his gaze roams all over my body. 

He steps forward. My heart picks up its pace. With every step he takes forward, my heartbeat fastens.

"Does that help with anxiety?" I point at the silver flash in his hand when he stands in front of me. He chuckles again at my question, finally looking back at me. He places his finger under my chin and raises it to make me look him in the eyes.

“No, love. This is something a little stronger than that..” he says in a teasing tone before taking another sip.

"Wonderful!" I say, snatching the flask away from him and taking a big gulp.

The liquid burns my throat as it goes down, leaving a strong aftertaste like any alcohol I've never tasted before. What is he even drinking?

It slowly starts making me a bit tipsy and my cheeks heat up under his cold gaze and the cold air. He raises his eyebrows at how I took the flask from him so confidently, then lets out a small amused laugh as I start to get a bit drunk.

“You’re a feisty one…” he mumbles, as eyes me up and down, a small smile creeping onto his face again.

"I've always been called that. Everyone says that I'm out of control and I need to be tamed." I look up at him with puppy eyes and a pout. "Do I really need to be tamed?” He lets out a deep laugh as I look up at him with innocent eyes, his hand moving back to cup my cheek again, gently caressing it.

“Maybe you do…” He says in a deep, almost commanding tone, his silver eyes staring into mine. “And I could help you with that, darling…”

"Do it. I give you the right to tame me!" I say dramatically and chuckle at the end as I fall into his arms. His smile grows as he realises just how drunk I’m starting to get.

“You do now, huh?” He says, pulling me into his lap, as he seats himself on the bed. His strong arms wrap around my stomach. “Then you’re mine now, love… You’re my little plaything.” The word plaything does something to me, sending a bunch of fireworks down my stomach.

“Umm hmm, and what exactly do you do with your playthings?” He holds me close against his hard, muscular chest, his gloved hand running down my side as he speaks into my ear.

“Whatever I want, love… I make them do whatever I wish, and I make them feel whatever I wish… I have full control of them.”

“Oh dear lord, so scandalous of you!” I say in a comical tone as I dramatically gasp and he laughs at my reaction. His hands wander over my body, squeezing my thighs and hips, gently but not hesitantly.

“Oh, love, you have no idea how good I can make you feel…” he purrs in my ear, his breath warm against my skin.

Police sirens echo through the alleyway and I look at him with sadness in my eyes as reality washes over me even in the state of drunkenness. "I don't want them to take you away from me~.”

His hand immediately stops on my back, gently rubbing it in a soothing manner as he glances outside the window. He then looks down at me, his eyes filled with a mix of both guilt and concern.

“Don’t worry, love… I promise I won’t let them take me away from you…”

"All men do is lie" I say and try to tear his hands away from myself to get off his lap.

He suddenly grabs my arm and yanks me back towards him, holding me tightly against his chest again. He sounds angry, his voice stern and firm “Don’t you dare leave me… I’m not just any man!” he growls, his strong arms squeezing me almost too tight.

"Then do just any men show up at a random girls house and hold her in their arms like this, promising to fuck them right?” He tenses at my response, his silver eyes narrowing down at me. 

His face is so close to mine, I can feel his hot breath hit my skin as he speaks in a low, possessive voice. “No… but I’m not just any man, love… I’m your man now. You’re mine to do whatever I please with, and you’re going to enjoy it… I promise you that, darling…”

"Then prove it." I try to take off his mask. His hand grips my wrists and pins them down against my sides, preventing me from taking off his mask. “No.” He says in a firm, almost cold tone “You don’t get to see my face, darling. Not yet.”

"Where's your honesty then, mister?” He looks down at me, a smirk playing on his lips again. “You just can’t take no for an answer, can you, love?” he says with a chuckle before his face suddenly gets serious again “And I’m telling you honestly I won’t let you see me without this on.”

"Yes, I won't take a no for an answer and are you insecure, mister skull face? I can help you with that!" I say as I wrap my hands around his shoulders and place my hips directly above his crotch.

He lets out another low chuckle at my boldness, his arms immediately wrapping around my waist as I sit down on his lap. I feel his hips twitch underneath me, his body reacting to mine. 

“Insecure? No, love… I have nothing to be insecure about…” he mumbles, his gloved hands grasping my hips, pressing me down into his lap at which I whimper.

“Then, what are you hiding underneath that?” He continues to hold me tightly against him, pressing my hips down harder against his lap. 

His tone gets harsher, more demanding. “Don’t question me, love. You don’t get to see what’s underneath this mask just yet… I can’t let you see me… it’s too dangerous…”

I moan as he pushes my hips against his crotch, moving them for friction as my head falls back in reflex. I look at him, eyes glazing with water under the streetlight shining through my window. "How can I even hurt you?”

He stares down at me as my eyes glaze up at him, his hands still tightly holding onto my hips, controlling my every movement on his lap. His jaw clenches as my hips grind down into him, his silver eyes darkening in desire.

“You won’t hurt me, darling, and I’m not afraid you’ll hurt me… but I still can’t let you see me without this on…” he says in a low, possessive tone with a hint of sadness in his voice.

"Then give me something else so I'll forget about it and just remember your name." I say my head falling back again as I start grinding on his crotch. His hard member grazes against my wet core behind my underwear. "What was your name, mister skull face? I have to moan it, atleast.”

He growls in response to me grinding down against him, closing his eyes to keep his control as I push my hips down on him. His hands tighten on my body as he struggles to respond, his voice deep and raspy. “My name… my name is Ghost… sweetheart… you say my name…”

"Fuck" I say as I find the right friction and go ahead with it moaning his name in sweet lowly mumbles "ghost~”

He lets out a deep, guttural moan as I say his name, his hands grip me even tighter, digging into my skin. He opens his eyes to look down at me again, his silver irises dark and full of lust. “Again… say my name again, darling…”

"Ghost" I moan the wetness spreading as it transfers onto his pants, wetting them in the process so he tears them off me. He rips his own shirt off, revealing his muscular, toned physique, his arms and chest covered with various tattoos. He quickly tears my silk top shirt apart, and throws it to the side, pulling me against his chest. 

My bare skin pressing against his.

He leans down to my ear, his lips brushing against my earlobe as he speaks in a deep, demanding tone. “Now be a good girl and show me how good you can behave…” 

He looks down at me with his silver eyes again as he unbuttons his pants. I gasp at his length, “I've never done this before…” He chuckles at my response, noticing my surprise. I lean back onto the pillow placed against the headboard of my bed.

“Never? Not once?” he asks, his hand gently grabs my chin, and makes me look up at him. 

“Nope… I couldn't bring myself to do it with anyone.” He looks at me in surprise, a hint of amused disbelief on his face.

“You’re telling me no one’s ever had you like this before?” he says as he moves his hand down to my thigh and starts slowly caressing it.

“you're lucky!” He looks at me with a look of satisfaction on his face, his hands trailing up and down your thighs.

“Lucky?” He says in an almost teasing tone “It’s more like I’m finally getting the reward I deserve, love…”

“And I'm finally getting the man I've been dreaming about.” I say, looking into his eyes “Who'll also fuck me so hard, that I'll forget everything, but just remember his name.” He lets out a small laugh as his hand moves further up my thigh, slowly pushing your legs open.

“So desperate, love…” He mumbles, his silver eyes trailing down to look at my now exposed body. “Are you sure you can handle me?”

"You don't trust me," I say in a seductive tone "ghost" and moan out his name. He smirks in response, his hand continuing to gently caress my thigh as he moves closer to me.

“It’s not that I don’t trust you, darling… I know you’re mine. But you’re just so small… I’m afraid you’ll break your little body, that’s all…”

"There's nothing left to break, ghost. I've been shattered to pieces already" I sit, tears threatening to spill. He slowly runs his hands up my body, caressing every inch of my skin as he speaks to me in a quiet, soothing tone.

“Don’t worry about breaking anymore, love… I’ll put you back together again…” He says softly as his hands move up to my face, lightly stroking my cheeks and wiping any tears that might’ve escaped my eyes.

"Do it. Make my heart whole again, treat me right and never break it again." I say, hugging him as I let go of the tears. He holds me close against his chest, my body pressed against his firm, warm muscles. He gently strokes my hair, his strong arms holding me tightly as he speaks in a soft, but determined voice.

“I promise I’ll fix you, darling… I’ll take care of you, and I’ll never break your heart. You’re mine now… all mine… no one else will have you except me… I swear it… all you have to do is trust me…”

"I've forgotten how to trust anyone.” He keeps me in his arms as he gently rocks me back and forth, his strong arms wrapped around me, making you feel safe and protected.

“You don’t have to trust anyone else but me, sweetheart…… I’ll earn your trust, and I’ll make you feel safe again… all I want is to make sure you don’t ever give anyone else this precious body of yours, darling… this body, mind, heart, and soul is all mine…”

“Then… fuck it like you own it ghost, like you and fucking meant it.” He suddenly grabs me and pins me down against the bed, his body towering over me as he looks down at me with his intense, determined silver eyes.

“Just what I planned to do, love…..” He growls before leaning down to press his lips against me in a fierce, possessive kiss. I kiss him back with the same energy as my grip across his shoulders tightens. He moans against my lips as I tighten my grip on him, his hands trailing down my body until they reach my hips.

“So eager… impatient… you’re so desperate for me, love… I can feel it…” he mumbles between kisses as he slowly starts to move on top of me, his body sliding between my legs. I moan at the touch, as his hands trail down my body and finally look me in the eyes as he moves on top of me.

His eyes lock onto mine as his body presses down firmly against mine, keeping me in place as his hands continue to explore my body. He stares down at me for a few seconds, his intense gaze unwavering before he finally speaks again.

“You’re so beautiful… you know that, love?” he says in a low voice, his hands running up and down my sides.

“I guess I have the power now” He smirks down at me, his eyes glistening in amusement.

“You’ve always had the power, darling, you just didn’t realise it yet…”

“You speak as if you've known me for so long as if we went to the same uni or high-school” He laughs softly at my comment, his hand moving up to gently caress my cheek.

“Maybe I’ve known you longer than you think, love. We might have crossed paths in the past without either of us realising it…”

“Or maybe I was so trapped in my head that I didn't notice you existed.” He laughs softly at my comment, his hand moving up to gently caress my cheek. He lightly laughs again at my response, his hand still caressing my face gently. 

His eyes soften a bit as he continues. “Maybe, darling. But it doesn’t really matter now, does it? I’ve got you in my hands now… and I’m never letting go…”

“Please don't, but give some attention to my desperate core which is dying for your touch.” He smiles down at you, a hint of wickedness in his eyes.

“Oh, needy, are we? You’re so impatient, darling… just relax, I’ll take care of that little core of yours… I’ll take care of every single part of you…”

“I am impatient. And how can I not?” He chuckles once again as he looks down at me, his hand trailing down my body towards my core, his touch gentle yet firm.

“Oh darling… I understand you’re impatient… but good things come to those who wait, that’s the saying, isn’t it? All you have to do is submit to me… and all your impatient needs will be fulfilled… Can you do that, love?”

"Okay" I breathe in deep "I'm all yours, mister skull face" His silver eyes darken at my words, his hand continuing to move down my body until his fingers reach my core, gently teasing me with his touch.

“Good girl… that’s it, love… just submit to me… give yourself to me…”

"Just fuck me already ghost" I say, throwing my head back. He smirks in response, his fingers continuing to tease me as he leans down to my ear, his voice soft yet demanding.

“No, darling… I’m in charge here, remember? I decide what happens and when it happens…. You’re my good girl, you don’t tell me what to do… you’ll do as I say…”

“agh! not this bullshit again!” He grins at my response, his fingers still teasing me, never truly giving me what I want.

“Oh it’s not bullshit, love… I’m in control here… and I’m not going to give you what you want right now… You have to be a good girl and do as I say, and then I’ll give you what you want… understand, darling?”

“yes, daddy” He smiles down at me, satisfied with my response.

“Good… good girl…” he says, his voice dropping an octave as he leans down to my ear again, his fingers pressing against my core for just a moment.

“You know, I like that nickname… call me that again…”

“Daddy” he moans softly at my nickname for him, his head moving to the crook of my neck as he begins gently nipping at my skin.

“Mmmh… that’s right, darling… I’m Daddy, and you’re my good girl…”

“yes, daddy” he continues to bite and kiss at my skin, his hands slowly moving down to my hips again.

“My good girl… that’s what you are… you’re mine now… got it, love?”

“yes, daddy” he nods in response against my neck, his hands still holding my hips firmly.

“Very good…” *he mumbles* “Daddy’s good girl. You do as Daddy says and Daddy will give you what you want, understood?”

“Yes” he raises his head to look down at me again, his silver eyes staring into yours.

“Good… now be a good girl for me and give me your body… all of it… It’s mine now, darling… and I do whatever I want with it…”

“And…how do I do that?” he smiles down at me, his eyes slowly raking up and down my body, taking in every inch of me. 

“You just lay there and do exactly as I say, love… I don’t want you to move a single muscle without my permission… I want your body to be completely mine, to do with what I like… that sounds good, darling?”

“yes, daddy” he smiles again as he looks down at me, pleased with my response.

“Mmmmh… I knew I was right… you are a good girl, love… and you’re all mine… that body of yours belongs to me now… no one else is ever gonna have you, darling… you’re gonna be all mine to use and play with, got it?”

"yes" i say my gaze locked onto him as i close the distance between us. He grins as I lean closer to him and presses himself against me, his body warm and firm against mine. He wraps his arms around my waist, pulling me tightly against him, the feel of his skin on mine sending shivers down my spine.

“You’re right where you belong, love… in my arms… mine to touch, take, and use anyway I want…”

“Perfect” I whimper out. He chuckles at my response, his hands trailing up and down my body, caressing my skin gently.

“You enjoy being mine, don’t you, darling? You like belonging to me, and giving me your body for me to use whenever I want… I can see it in your eyes, love… you’re mine, and you want everyone to know it…”

“yes, i every fucking single minute of it!” he grins in response, his hands moving lower down my body, gripping me tighter.

“I know you do, love… and I enjoy having you all to myself… knowing that I get to use your body whenever I want… that you’re all mine, and no one else’s… it makes me feel powerful… it makes me feel like I can do anything… and that you’d let me, my good girl… my darling… my lovely love…”

"yes" i moan, aligning myself against his member as i then proceed to take him into my heat. he shivers in response at the feeling of my body against his, his arms wrapping around me even tighter as he moans softly.

“Mmmmh… just like that… just the way I like it, love…” he mumbles, his eyes trailing down my body, taking in every inch of me.

[doukeshi-kun]

𝙣𝙞𝙠𝙤𝙡𝙖𝙞 + 𝙗𝙚𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙖 𝙙𝙖𝙙

featuring ⨳ nikolai gogol, gn!reader + oc!daughter

contents ⨳ fluff, slight slight angst, reader isn't mentioned a lot, established relationship, the daughter is oc

notes ⨳ this is from the conversations in discord with friends who have collective baby fever and thirst for dad!nikolai in one random day

Nikolai is more than happy to pick up his daughter from kindergarten. Usually, you would pick her up since you have a small break just enough time for you to grab your daughter, buy her food and send her home. Nikolai's not home usually at four, busy with his shady business. So when you call him to go and pick up his daughter, he is over the moon.

He is already waiting by the car, eyes looking for his adorable daughter walking out from the gate. He is just casual, with a white button-up, rolled-up sleeves and a pair of black pants. But that's still enough for some people to take several glances at him.

Nikolai ignores their attention — he's only thirsty for the only person he loves the most, his beloved — you.

After about five minutes of waiting, he finally sees his daughter walks out of the gate. She is looking at the ground. Her white braid is hanging low and her green eyes are dull. She is clutching her red schoolbag, a bit tense.

Nikolai is a sensitive person — especially when it comes to emotions. So he certainly notices his daughter is acting weirdly. Yes, she's visibly distraught with her thoughts when she accidentally walks past Nikolai's car.

“Mari,” he calls.

His daughter, Mari, flinches out of her thoughts and turns around. Nikolai smiles and before he could crouch and opens his arms for her, she already runs straight into him, bumping into his legs.

“Papa!”

Nikolai chuckles, smiling affectionately. He pats her head — she is short, obviously, just reaching his knees. Nikolai crouches and hugs her, giving a smooch on her cheek.

“Papa pick me up?” Mari asks as her tiny hands hold his face. Nikolai coos, overwhelmed with the adoration in his heart. He nods.

“Yes, malyshka,” he replies as he pinches her cheek, making her whine in annoyance. Nikolai only laughs before he stands up again and opens the car door. He bends to help Mari to take off her school bag. There's a charm of red pompom hanging on her bag, similar to Nikolai's hair tie.

He puts the bag under the seat and then he picks her up, getting her onto the seat. He reaches for the seatbelt, putting it on her. “Comfy?” he asks and when she nods, Nikolai smiles proudly to himself. Before he closes the door, he kisses her forehead once.

He gets into the driver's seat and turns on the engine. He drives out from the kindergarten area, sometimes taking a glance at his still disturbed daughter.

“Rough day at school, malyshka?” he asks.

“Hm...” she nods a bit, stroking her braid sadly —that trait is very similar to what Nikolai would do when he's sulking towards you.

“Wanna tell me?”

“Papa... am I... am I ugly?” she asks, lips quivering and Nikolai almost brakes abruptly at the question. He frowns and immediately parks his car on the side of the street, looking at his daughter.

“No. No, you aren't ugly. What nonsense! Mari, you are the cutest girl in the world! The most adorable, the prettiest, the most glamorous!” Nikolai says. “Who said that?”

She's smiling at her dad's words but she's starting to sob. “T-These boys in my class... called me ugly and weird... They say meanie things! And... and then they touched my cheeks and...”

“They what?” Nikolai grips the steering wheel and has to internally exhale a deep breath without sighing out loud to his daughter.

“They say bad words to me... And they touched my cheeks...”

“.... Did they hurt you?”

“O-One of them... like... pinch it...”

“Does the teacher says anything?”

She shakes her head.

“Do you know their names? The boys?”

She says three names.

“Alright.”

Nikolai takes out his phone and types something in it. But not long before she tugs his sleeve. He turns to her and she looks scared.

“Papa... are you angry...? Y-You're scary now...”

Nikolai purses his lips — bad habits come up again. He suddenly remembers the frustrated words from his colleague — “Gogol, can you behave well? Your whole presence is scaring my customers. My God, why are you here in this casino anyway?”

Nikolai swallows hard. Of course... He was a very dangerous person several years ago. He made horrendous, gruesome and grotesque crimes. He killed people left and right. All to just reach his extreme ideals.

And now he's here, almost ten years later, having a family. Does he deserve this? After murdering a lot of people, taking them away from their families — and now he is having one, himself. Does he even deserve to have a family? Is he deserving of this future he's trying to live in when his past is constantly trailing in his shadow? Will this guilt follow him to hell and eat him slowly from inside? Will he find himself caged again? Will the freedom be out of his reach?

“Papa!”

Nikolai jumps at Mari's high-pitched scream. He looks at her and she's crying — she looks worried and she is panicked when she sees her dad being silent. She doesn't know why but she cannot help but feel a very scary feeling from his silence.

“Papa, a-are you sick? P-Please, I'm scared..!” she cries and Nikolai's heart breaks at her tears. He realizes he just daydreams about his inner chaos while his daughter needs him. This feels just as hurt when his beloved spouse is crying to him. Nikolai unbuckles her seatbelt and carefully picks her up to sit on his lap.

He hugs her, kissing her head.

“I'm okay... I'm okay, shh... Don't cry, okay? I'm not sick, alright? I'm just distraught.” his voice is soft and soothing as he strokes her hair — just the same as his. Her eyes are also just like his, except her face resembles her mother more.

“I just don't like what the boys did to you. I promise, I promise they won't hurt you or touch you or call you names anymore.” Nikolai looks at her and she stares before slowly nodding back. He smiles at her again.

“If they touch you anymore, you say what?”

“I say 'No'.”

“Good. Then, what else? What did papa teach you?”

“Then... you say.. uh.. I have to... kick their balls!”

Nikolai laughs and his laugh is contagious enough for the spirited girl to giggle. “Yes, you got it right! And then, if they touch your cheek, you will do this...” Nikolai forms a loose fist and slowly gestures it to her cheek, poking her skin with his knuckles. “Pow.” he says, playfully.

She grins, looking at him contently and follows his step. She clenches her tiny fist and pushes it to Nikolai's cheek. Though Nikolai does not even feel a thing, he purposely turns his head sideways, according to the direction, just to show Mari that she 'punches' him.

“Good girl! Yes, like that. And do it harder to them! Like really hard! That's called, a punch.”

"A... pun. Pun!”

Nikolai cackles, eyes almost close at how hard he smiles at his daughter's cuteness. “Okay, malyshka. That's close enough. Now, do we wanna get desserts? To cheer you up? Ice-cream or waffle?”

“Both!” she claps her hands excited. She's already imagining a thick waffle with drizzles of chocolate sauce, and two scoops of vanilla ice-cream topping the delicacy.

“Okay, let's go! I know bestest place for a waffle and ice-cream! Anything for you, okay?” Nikolai says before he puts her back to the seat and buckles her seatbelt.

BEEP!

“Goddamn!” Nikolai looks in the mirror, seeing a car honking at him before passing him. He clicks his tongue. “What the hell is his problem, dude?”

Mari gasps and slaps his hand. He looks at her, pouting, already he can listen your voice scolding him for saying bad words in front of the kids. “Bad words! Baddie words! Papa cannot say that!”

“I did not say anything.”

She gasps. “Gaslighting!”

“Where the hell did you learn that?”

©doukeshi-kun 2023 — do not copy, plagiarize and repost my works to any platform, more @cherikolya

if you like my works, consider buy me a ko-fi!

[wreckedandpolemic]

sweet as blood-red jam - matty healy

(mdni) in which all of you belongs to matty. all of you. part of the white and gold universe and summer75 2024. 2620 words.

warnings: blink-and-you’ll-miss-it somno, sex toys, anal sex, praise, mild degradation, mild cumplay, general filth don’t look at me

You’ve been squirming all day, tense with excitement and anticipation. The plug you’re wearing jostles with every move you make, cunt dripping in your panties. A dreamy smile crosses your face as you remember the morning, reliving it in vivid, glorious detail.

You wake to Matty fucking into you, moaning low in his throat and kissing you open-mouthed. “Hi, darling,” he says, smiling as you blink blearily up at him. “You just looked so pretty, I couldn’t help myself.”

After a long, slow, indulgent fuck, curled up in his arms, you’re still starving for him, hunger gnawing between your legs. “Need to be yours, Daddy,” you whine. “Everywhere. Every single hole.”

Matty’s breath hitches, fingers tracing delicately across your cheekbone. “Shit, princess, are you sure?” You nod, biting your lip as your cheeks flush red. “Fuck, m’gonna be thinking about that all fuckin’ day. That’s cruel and unusual punishment, darling.”

Your heart drops. “You’re leaving? I thought you stopped working Tuesdays?” you frown, clinging to him and burying your face in his chest like you could pin him to the bed and keep him there. 

Sighing, Matty rakes a hand through his hair. “S’just this stupid meeting. Should only be a couple of hours, but it’ll be boring as all fuck.”

A smirk slides across your face. “Well, if you won’t be gone long…” You trail your fingers along his side. “Could always get me ready for you… Fill me up with a pretty plug while I wait for you to come home and fuck my slutty little ass.”

“Jesus, you’re gonna fuckin’ kill me, one day,” Matty groans. “Where’d my good little girl learn to talk so filthy, hm?”

You giggle. “Learned it from you, Daddy.” Pouting up at him, you turn on the wide, pleading eyes that get you whatever you want. His resolve visibly crumbles, carefully easing his way out from under you to retrieve your box of toys from under your bed. Pure want throbs thickly between your legs at the sight of Matty with the silicone plug between his fingers, his smirk filthy.

You roll onto your front, shaking your ass teasingly, and Matty chuckles darkly. “Little slut. Want Daddy to open up that pretty ass, yeah?” His fingers swirl delicate patterns across the skin of your ass, and you squirm. You hear the quiet snick of him uncapping a bottle of lube, the wet sound of him slicking up his fingers, arousal dripping from your cunt. “You ready, princess?”

“Yes, Daddy,” you moan, widening your legs a little so he can kneel between them. His wet fingers trace softly around your hole, the muscle quivering under his touch. Achingly slow, he inches a finger into you, pausing at the first knuckle to let you adjust, a low moan falling from your lips.

It’s not the first time you’ve done this, but it’s rare enough that the feeling is unfamiliar, pressure mounting as Matty sinks his finger fully into you. “It’s okay, princess. Relax, darling, s’just me, just my fingers. You take me all the time, I know you can take it, angel. That’s it, that’s my good girl,” Matty murmurs, your body relaxing under the praise as he slips another finger into you. The stretch, the fullness, the pressure is indescribable, pleasure pooling at the base of your skull and making your head hazy.

“Feels s’fucking good, Daddy. Always so good to me, give me everything I want,” you moan, back arching as Matty slowly thrusts his fingers. He leans down, kissing over your shoulder blade and scissoring his fingers, gently stretching you open as your hands ball into fists in the sheets.

Liquid heat throbs in your veins, Matty’s breath coming quick and short against your skin. “Anything my girl wants,” he echoes, his smile audible. “You ready, darling? Or d’you want one more?”

It takes a long moment to process his words, lifting your head weakly off the mattress to murmur, “M’ready. Fill me up, Daddy, please.” You clench involuntarily as Matty slips his fingers out of you, slick silicone pressed against your hole moments later.

Matty coos reassurances in your ear, slowly pushing the plug into you as you whimper and whine, your brain melting into liquid with every second. “So pretty, baby. Such a good girl. Greedy little hole taking it so well, angel. You still feeling good?”

“Mhmm,” you moan, electricity arcing up your spine. It takes a few moments for the plug to be fully seated, the crystal shining up at Matty as he stares, tracing entranced little patterns into the flesh of your ass.

“There y’go, princess. Nice and full for me, ready for me to fuck that tight little hole when I get home, yeah?” You roll over to face him, gasping as the movement presses the plug deeper into you. Matty descends on you ravenously, kissing you with a frantic hunger and cradling your jaw. “God, m’so hard for you, darling. Gonna drive me fucking crazy, thinking about you waitin’ for me like this.”

A slow smirk crosses your face, your nails digging into his back as you arch up against him. “Think you should cum on my ass, Daddy. Wouldn’t I look so pretty, all dripping with you?” You roll back over, pressing your ass up against him and grinding on his cock. The plug pushes deeper into you, a needy, whining gasp falling from your mouth. “C’mon, Daddy. M’your little cumslut, I need it.”

The sound of pure lust that drips from his lips falls straight to your cunt, the air around you suddenly thick and choking. “Such a little whore,” he coos, groaning as he strokes over his cock slowly. Filthy praise wraps around your brain, vision blurring as you lose awareness of anything but him. He cums over your ass with a low groan of your name, skin painted white as you writhe under him, desperate. “Fuck, you look so pretty, darling.“

“Gonna think about me while you’re gone?” you tease, watching him dip into the bathroom to retrieve you a cloth.

“Don’t ask me stupid questions, princess,” Matty grins, gently cleaning you up and flipping you over to face him. “Always think about you.” He leans down, kissing you softly and pulling away to go get dressed as you pout. 

You trail after him to the door, already missing his touch. “Am I allowed to get off today, Daddy? Don’t wanna be greedy, just feels so good.” Your cunt is clenching with every step, fire licking along your thighs.

Matty pulls you in for a long, slow kiss, hand wandering down to trace over the plug and swallowing your gasp against his lips. “You can cum as much as you like, princess, s’long as you tell me when you do, okay? Wanna know how much of a slut you are when I’m not home,” he grins, snapping the elastic of the panties you’d slipped on against your waist. He kisses you sweetly, pulls back and holds you by the waist. “Be back soon, princess. Soon as I can, promise.”

Of course, it takes a good five minutes of needy kisses before he’s actually out of the door, muttering Gonna be so late. Worth it, under his breath as he goes. Your hole clenches involuntarily around the plug, a constant, low-level hum of need buzzing around your brain. For an hour or so, you try to go about your day as normally as possible, but the second you sit down with a mug of coffee, a pulse of pleasure rips through you savagely. Every slight movement you make shifts the plug, waves of sensation overtaking you as you fall onto your back on the sofa.

Sliding your panties aside, you push two fingers into your cunt, soaked and dripping. You feel so fucking full, pressure between your thighs working up into your belly as you lose yourself in ecstasy. When you come to, you text Matty a picture of yourself, fingers shoved into your mouth.

just came soo hard thinking of u

can’t wait for you to come home and fuck me in the ass, daddy

God you’re fucking killing me

There’s no answer after that; Matty must have been pulled away to actually do the job that funds your lives. Boring. You cum three more times, accompanying your text to Matty with an obscene picture and a needy plea. It’s impossible to fall asleep with the plug filling your hole, and going anywhere is obviously out of the question, so you resign yourself to the endless loop of laying down, the movement making you needy, getting off, trying to get up, rinse and repeat.

The relief that floods your body when Matty’s key turns in the lock is immense, and you scramble off the bed to meet him, flinging off your shirt somewhere along the way. “Hi, beautiful,” he grins, laughing against your mouth as you press needily against him. He kisses you long and hard, your body melting happily against his, insistent desire throbbing between your legs.

“God, I need you,” you whine, loosening his tie and shoving his jacket off his shoulders. “I need you in my ass, Daddy, need you to fuck me dumb,” you plead, soaking in the warmth of his chest as you practically rip his shirt free of his body. 

“So needy, princess. Don’t worry, baby. Daddy’s gonna take care of you.” Matty scoops you into his arms, gently setting you on the bed and shoving off his trousers and boxers in one movement. He collapses on top of you, kissing hungrily over your lips, cheeks, neck, chest, fire blossoming under your skin everywhere he touches. “God, couldn’t stop thinkin’ about you all fuckin’ day, princess. Think I might have agreed to give someone a million dollars ‘cause I was so distracted by you and your pretty ass,”

You giggle. “Well, m’here now. M’all ready for you, Daddy,” you grin, arching your back and squirming under him. Matty’s hand creeps down, taps against the plug, swallowing your gasp into his mouth.

Slowly, ever-so-slowly, Matty tugs on the plug, lust pooling in your belly as you clench around it. “This is gonna feel a bit weird, angel. Promise you can take it. My good girl, yeah?” You nod frantically, dizzy and lust-sick as he slowly inches the toy out of you. Your hole flutters needily, tears brimming on your lashes as you whine out incoherent pleas. Eagerly, you watch him slick up his cock, lube dripping from his fingers as he groans low in his throat. “Oh, princess. Fuckin’ gagging for it, aren’t you, baby? Need Daddy to fill up your pretty hole, yeah?”

“Daddy, please,” you whimper, gasping as the tip of his cock teases gently at your hole. Slowly, he inches into you, cooing praise down at you gently.

“Good girl,” he moans, pulling almost all the way out and pushing back in, deeper this time. You choke on air, arching up as your cunt flutters needily. Hot pleasure rolls over you, your brain melting into liquid that drips from your ears as Matty pants harshly against your lips. Your vision whites out, your body a messy string of pure desire as he bottoms out, groaning harshly against your lips. “Shit, you feel so good, princess. Y’so fucking tight, your pretty little hole feels so fucking good, god,” he praises, delicately swiping your sweat-damp hair off your face.

His lips hover over yours, gentle and sweet, letting you adjust to the blunt pressure in your ass until you’re digging your nails into his back and whining. “You can move now. Need you to fuck me, m’ready. You feel really fucking good, Daddy,” you add, eyes lust-blown and begging.

Slowly, oh-so-slowly, Matty pulls out until only the head is inside you, swallowing your whines as you thrash under him helplessly. “Shh, baby, shh. S’okay, Daddy’s here. Daddy’s gonna make you feel so fucking good, promise.” He pushes into you in one languid, fluid motion, your bodies fitting together so perfectly that you marvel, head spinning and vision blurred. “Fuck, thank you for lettin’ me do this, angel.”

A breathless little giggle spills from your lips, breaking into a moan as Matty thrusts deeply into you. “M’not letting you do anything, Daddy. I want this. Always wanted this,” you add, cunt clenching wantonly around nothing. “I wanna be yours, need all my holes to be yours.”

Matty groans, cock twitching deep inside you. “You’re unreal,” he breathes. “You are not real. Couldn’t have dreamed up a more perfect girl. Such a good little girl, always actin’ so sweet, when really you just want Daddy’s cock in this sweet little hole, yeah?” You nod dizzily, letting pleasure overtake you as Matty fucks you hard and fast. “You feeling good, angel? You want me to touch you?” You whine out something incoherent and desperate, rocking your hips as your cunt drips against the sheets.

You cry out as Matty’s fingers find your clit, swollen and sensitive and fucking soaked, the barest touch electric as it shoots up your spine. “Fuck, don’t stop, need you s’bad, m’your good little girl, your pretty little slut, all yours,” you moan, Matty’s motions over your clit speeding as he works you into a frenzy. 

“Aw, baby. Should’ve told me how needy your pretty little pussy was gettin’, princess, y’so wet for me.” Your back arches, a pulse of pure need washing over you. Matty’s thrusts don’t slow, pace measured and sweetly torturous.

“Mhmm, s’all— ohh— all for you, Daddy. I— God, yes— love you so much,” you whimper, hurtling towards your orgasm at breakneck speed. 

Ecstasy curves up your spine, setting you ablaze as Matty fucks into you, hips stuttering as he draws close. His moans against your skin come hot and fast, melting into sticky sugar that glues your lips to his, head hazy and eyes closed in bliss. “God, I love you, my perfect girl. You gettin’ close, princess?” You’re powerless to do anything but nod, letting pure pleasure wipe your mind clean, saturating your body and dripping out against Matty’s fingers. “Don’t hold back, baby. Give me everything you’ve got, darling,” he murmurs, pairing one last slow, deep thrust with a harsh pinch to your clit that sends you spiralling.

Your orgasm crashes over you, the weight of it physical, pressing on your very bones. Your entire body is wracked with it, cunt pulsing against Matty’s fingers as you writhe on the mattress, sweat dripping against the sheets. The sensation of Matty buried deep inside you as you cum is new, liquid fire poured along your spine. “That’s it, good girl. You still with me, princess?” With the last of your strength, you moan out an affirmative. “Yeah? Good. Alright, pretty girl, where d’you want me?”

“On me,” you gasp. “Please, Daddy,” you beg, whining as he pulls out of you, slow and gentle. Your hole clenches around the loss, still dizzy from your orgasm. With lidded eyes, you watch Matty pump his cock, and it’s barely a minute before he’s spilling against you, cum splashing over your belly as he groans against your mouth.

His eyes roll back in his head, moaning your name and shuddering as he pains your skin white. “Fuck, that was fuckin’ unbelievable. You’re unbelievable,” Matty grins, rolling off you to lay on his back, panting hard. His fingers come up to trace idly over your stomach, and you suck eagerly when he lifts them to your mouth. “Such a good girl,” he croons. “Just relax for a minute, then I’ll get us cleaned up, okay, princess?”

You stretch out, catlike, luxuriating in his arms. “Mhmm, okay. Love you.”

“I love you, darling.”

[hatkuu]

would rly rly appreciate some kylar/visibly disturbed!pc. maybe smth adjacent to the scene where a pc with high trauma can open up to eden and vent? :0

HEHEHEHEHEH YEEESSS AND JUST LIKE IT DOES WITH EDEN IT'LL RAISE KYLAR'S DOMINANCE!!!

HURT/COMFORT (?), ANGST, PREVIOUS S/A MENTIONS, GENERAL DOL TRAUMA STUFF, KIDNAPPING AFTERMATH, GEN! READER!, M! KYLAR.

-

Kylar can't rid the tight-lipped, firey-eyed expression off of his face. You aren't telling him something - his mind races with the worst possibilities - you could be cheating, maybe you don't want him anymore and you want nothing to do with him.

There's something wrong - and no matter how he indirectly hints that you can talk to him about anything - you don't tell him a lick of information. It's ripping his insides apart, tearing flesh and muscle and stabbing at his bleeding heart. Kylar chews on his lip as he gazes at you. The heavy, metallic flavour of iron spreads throughout his mouth. Kylar can't rip his eyes away from you; his one true love, his soulmate - the one person Kylar actually gives a shit about and yet you don't look at him like you used to - his stomach twists at the horrid intrusive thoughts blooming inside his head.

Your eyes are perpetually dull, a sad grey hue looming behind them and never fading - no matter how many times Kylar counts your blinks.

Rolling his chair away from his cluttered desk, Kylar moves to sit on the edge of his bed with you. His hand quivers as he places it on top of your own. You're so cold, so very, very cold and Kylar can't stand it. He misses the gentle thrum of life from underneath your skin. He misses the sweet, careless smiles that used to paint your face.

"(Name)," He whispers, more to himself than you, but you still turn your head to face him. He can't stop staring. The glazed hue coating your gaze still remains. He can't stay quiet anymore - you are his - his future spouse, someone that he can't stand to see so... empty. The sensation of his teeth grinding against one another aches his jaw - he does it until a throbbing sensation emerges from the very back of his throat. Kylar snaps, hands clashing against your shoulders, aching-- itching to get some semblance of human emotion from you. "(Name), P-Please! J-Just tell me what happened! I-If it's something I did or if someone e-else-"

"Kylar,"

Your hands reach upward, resting themselves on top of his own as your body shakes. For the first time, Kylar cannot read your face. Your brows are furrowed, fat, hot tears forming in your eyes, and your bottom lip quivers and twitches under his gaze.

Are you afraid?

...

Of him?

"Kylar - I didn't wa-want to tell you - I was worried you wouldn't see me the s-same!"

No, the expression on your face isn't fear.

"I-I'm just sick of being in t-this town - the shit I've had to endure! I just - I don't want to do it anymore." Your head falls forward against Kylar's chest. His hands instinctively cradle the back of your skull, holding you as a lover should. He listens intentively as you continue to weep into his chest.

"A-And the only time I ever f-felt safe in this town was when you kidnapped me!"

Kylar smiles against your hair. It's sick that he feels happy that you finally confided in him. That you miss being held captive by him. He should clear out the clutter in the basement, maybe clean up his room for you to move in. He coddles you, kissing at the crown of your head, coaxing you to let it all out. "I feel so-- so filthy when I look at myself- and I can't scrub the feeling of their hands away!"

"I don't think you're filthy,"

Kylar cups your face, pulling your face from his chest to rest his forehead against your own. Tears run tracks down your cheeks, your eyes are rimmed red and your face is creased with anguish.

Kylar loves you.

"-and if it'll make you happy, I'll steal you away again..."

Kylar's hands twitch as his smile grows even larger, exposing the pink of his gums. Your bottom lip quivers again, threatening to burst outward with another sob. Before you can, the gentle peck of Kylar's lips against your own stuns you. You blink at him. Your eyes sting from the salt tinged tears that coat your lids.

"I'll protect you,"

Kylar promises it to you, he swears it like an unbroken treaty between two neighbouring countries.

"I'll make sure you don't have to worry about anything ever again."

The shape of Kylar's knife rests heavy in his back pocket as your sobs fade into soft breathing and your head rests comfortably against his chest once more. Kylar would never break a promise to you.

[lacyjaybird]

@inukag-week 2k24 Day 2!

Theme: Moonlight

"Stargazing"

The crackling of the fire didn't lull Kagome to sleep like it normally did. Tonight, she was restless. After a couple of hours of trying, and failing,  she slowly extricated herself from the softly snoring Kitsune kit in her sleeping bag. Allowing the brisk early autumn night air to lead her, she decided star gazing might calm her mind. 

Between their recent extra long stint in Onodera, her grandfather falling ill, and her Algebra finals, she was exhausted and stressed. And honestly just needed to connect with herself again.  Recently she only felt like a tool for use. 

Find that jewel shard. Bury that body. Perform those rites. Ace that quiz. Visit home. Go to the store. Go to the hospital. Study those equations. Bike faster. Aim higher. Write neater…

It was all very… 

Overwhelming. 

Barefoot, she walked until the fire was still visible, but no longer able to reach her. In either warmth or light, And she sat down. 

Looking up at the millions of stars illuminating the sky along side a nearly full moon was enough to send a shiver along her arms.  Truly a sight she missed in modern times.  

“The fuck are you doin all the way out here?” 

Well there went her silence.  

She didn't even bother turning her head to the voice,  knowing exactly who it was.  

“I wanted to have some alone time. It's that too much to ask?” She huffed, a little miffed at the voices owner from his recent demand in pace and action.  

“keh” He huffed, coming to stand behind her left shoulder. She could see the rustling of his red hakama pants in the edge of her vision, stopping at feet as bare as her own. 

“You're gonna get sick, stupid. And that's the last fuckin’ thing we need.” he huffed again,  this time moving his arms in a manner she couldn't decipher before the weight of his jacket thumped onto her shoulders. 

“I'm going to be fine. And don't call me stupid!” She snapped, feeling a tightness in her throat she wasn't quite expecting. 

And neither was he, apparently, because as quickly as it exited, he was in her face. Black brows knit down between spun gold irises. 

“Please,  Inuyasha. I'm just.. I just wanted a little bit to try and rest without being a disappointment for a while, okay?” Kagome turned her face away, the exhaustion and stress coming to a head and threatening to spill over. 

“Now who called you that?” He looked dead serious, the high cheekbones highlighted from the beams as he stared. 

“In not so few words, YOU.“ She turned to face him,  now. Her bottom lip starting to quiver. 

“YOU, Inuyasha. You've been running us ragged and blaming me for every delay. I can't walk fast enough. I can't bike fast enough.  I can't get it together fast enough after helping a woman bury her child. 

I'm annoying when I ask if we are able to get to the well soon. I'm annoying when I ask to take a bath after being covered in demon guts. I'm apparently insufferable when I ask for an hour or so to study before bed every other day instead of collecting materials for camp.  

I can't DO THIS Inuyasha! I can't keep running interference every time Miroku pisses Sango off or when Shippo gets on your nerves. I can't keep babying you when Kouga gets a whiff and comes to once again ignore my boundaries. I can't be expected to bring supplies and my schoolwork all while Ji-chan is in the hospital and Sota needs someone to fix him lunches while mom goes to Kyoto. But HERE I AM.” 

The tears are flowing freely as she gestures to the field in front of her, her hand shaking. 

“STUCK about two days travel from the well. And every.  Single. Time. I even mention needing to go home when you go to lead us off somewhere else on some rabbit chase,  you snap at me!” 

she points her finger into the tip of his nose, her gaze hardening. 

“So how else am I supposed to feel Inuyasha? “ 

“First off.” He gently pushes her hand away, leaning slightly back on his heels. 

“I never called you a disappointment. You figured that for yourself. And Second off, I been bustin our asses so YOU can.. So you can go home for longer this next time.” 

his ears droop as he looks away from her,  clawed finger picking at a loose string on the end of his sleeve. 

“Cause I heard bout yer grandpa and you been really trying to do the shit in that book and you do it for so long yer eyes get bloodshot and you won't even eat when dinner is ready..” She looks back to him, listening carefully as her anger begins to subside. 

“And you wanna help every fuckin’ sad sack this half of Hatakeyama. So o'course I let ya help cause I'm a piece of shit if we don't help bury a fuckin kid. But every day you just look worse and worse and the fuck am I supposed to do when I'm trying to get you back to your time so I can just sit and wait for you to come back to me!” 

Their eyes meet and there's a moment of silence before even the darkness couldn't hide the flush that overwhelmed the hanyou's features.  

Huffing, he spun on his heel and planted his butt firmly in the grass beside her,  looking to the left, away from her.  

“You were trying to help me.” she said,  quietly. 

“I've been putting so much on myself and you've been trying to help me get home quickly.. but I just thought you were criticizing me.” 

Fresh tears welled as she buried her face in her knees, the exhaustion and stress finally winning the war on her heart. 

“Hey! Hey.. c'mon. Don't cry over me. You've done much worse than assume shit about me. This don't mean a fuckin thing.” 

He waves his hands, trying to get her attention.. but settling on pulling her into his side. 

There,  he let her cry until soft sniffles came few and further between. 

“Inuyasha?” The smallest voice asked, looking down,  he noticed her pink nose peering over the neck of his now snot covered jacket, muted in the moons glow. 

“hnn?”  he hummed, gazing down at her toes barely poking or from under the red expanse. 

“Thank you. But in the future… can you just tell me you're trying to be nice?” 

“keh. You act like I ain't always nice. Like right now.  Cause I'm taking yer ass to bed.” 

She gave no fuss as he stood,  picking her up as he went,  and carried her to the low fire. 

Gently,  he laid her in her still open sleeping bag, fingers brushing her bangs as her eyes fluttered shut. 

“Go to sleep,  Kagome.”

The rest of the night was spent watching over his friends,  the moon his only company as her beams and his gaze meeting more often than not on the mess of inky black hair belonging to the woman he cared more for than his own need for a few hours of rest.

[munsonswhore]

ʜᴇᴀʀᴛʟᴇꜱꜱ | eddie munson x reader

word count :664

warnings: angst, mild language, death of minor character.

main account: @houseforwhores

a/n: do you guys want the part 2?

you heard the front door open and close, relieved at the sound. eddie was back, he could help you look now, or maybe he knows where she's hiding.

"eddie!"you shouted, clutching your towel around your chest, you kneeled down in front of the couch to look under. "ntch. ntch. ntch., lauren, come out pretty baby."

"uhm hey baby," eddie said his voice shaking, his hands were behind his back. but you were to focused on finding lauren that you didn't notice or look at him.

"hey ed's. have you see. lauren? i can't seem to find her," you said feeling a little stressed. you'd been searching upwards of thirty minutes now.

"uhm actually. babe, could you stop what you're doing. i- uhm-"eddie sighed, a deep breath escaping his lungs. you caught the distress in his voice, you rose from your position, and faced towards him. his eyes were very noticeably red.

"eddie what's wrong?" you asked wiping. the stray tears on his cheek before pecking his lips, feeling them quiver against yours.

"y/n it was an accident," eddie said carefully as he tilted his head, his eyes widening just a smidge as he watched for your reaction. you stepped back a bit, analyzing.

"eddie." you said a bit stern as you swallowed thickly, preparing yourself for the worst. "what was an accident?"

eddie slowly brought his arms from behind his back, lauren was there lying in the palms of his hands, a little too still for your liking.

"eddie-" you cut yourself off taking her into your hands sobbing. the moment your hands touched her fur, you knew she was gone, you couldn't feel her heat emanating from her anymore. and it broke you inside. "what the fuck eddie?"

you sat down on the floor, you brought lauren to your chest as you rocked the both of you in a back and forth motion.

"y/n." eddie walked closer to you placing a hand on your shoulder to comfort you. you snatched your shoulder away from him. "i didn't see her-"

"you did this-?!" you shouted, snapping your head in eddie's direction

"she was- just there- i didn't mean to kill her-" eddie said stammering over his words as he did his best to explain himself to you.

"wow eddie." you remarked sniffling, your voice indignant as you spoke. you shook your head in disbelief, lauren was dead in your arms. "you really are a freak."

"what?"

"everyone warned me." you reputed glaring at him, now looking him in his eyes. "that you're a freak."

"they told me how you like to hurt animals! guess they were right." you said holding lauren up to him so he could see what he'd done. he looked away, speech evading him, but that wasn't an answer. "hmm? isn't it eddie?"

you were fuming now. you placed lauren down beside you before standing up, eddie raising from his crouching position so you two could be face to face.

"y/n.." eddie said, visibly distraught, his eyes darted back and forth between your tear-filled eyes as he tried to find the words. "i- i didn't-"

"you didn't what eddie?" you screamed in his face, jabbing a finger at his chest.  "you didn't get off on killing her? she was living breathing thing eddie! and you killed her!"

you turned around as you began sobbing again. all of this becoming too much for you. you used your dominant hand to wipe the tears from your face.

"you need to leave, edward."

"edward?" eddie whispered, feeling repulsed yet hurt, you never call him edward. he could feel the bile build in his throat, anxiety coating his stomach and leading up his esophagus. "y/n-

"go." your words were stern as you sobbed, your place filled with silence before you could hear the door shut, you could tell he was trying to be gentle about it however you couldn't mistake the anger in the way it aggressively shut.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

[golden-rats]

So I saw more bottom secondo? Maybe you could do with a female reader this time? No pressure if not.

Sure :) I like to keep it gender neutral for everyone to enjoy but I don't mind gendering the reader sometimes!

Secondog

Words: 2,320

Warnings: Explicit, MDNI

Tags: bottom secondo, ghoulette reader, oral, face riding, footjob, coming in pants

You can also read it on AO3 here

Secondo sat at his desk, as usual. A knock pulling him out of his thoughts. Frustrated at the disturbance his eyebrows furrowed. "Come in..." He reluctantly invited the visitor. A ghoulette came in, fixating him with her eyes. Slowly strutting closer.

"What may I help you with? I'm busy, this better be important." A sly grin appearing on your lips. "Oh you will be busy..."

Secondo was already in a bad mood and wanted this all done and over with. He gave you a quick stern look as if to say 'Don't test me now...' You stopped in front of his desk. Leaning on it with both hands, eyes still on him."I heard you were a naughty Papa... I wanted to see that with my own two eyes." Your voice was tinged with a playful desire. He on the other hand looked like he was about to have a stroke. "You little..." His face contorted with anger before he took a deep breath and collected himself. Getting up from his chair. "What... What do you want."

"Mhm, you? On your knees?" You looked up at him. Not feeling threatened in the slightest. A smirk tugging at the corner of your lips. Secondos eyes widen as he released a low growl. "I'll..." He was losing his temper and control. Then, in a split second, he suddenly stood right in front of you, his hand grabbing your collar, his head just inches away from your face. He looked like he was about to bite you. "I will NOT have a child of mine act like this!" He spat, not completely done yet. In a single motion, he pushes your body against the wall with an audible thump. After some initial shock you let out a chuckle. Eyes narrowing as you looked at the antipope. "There's nothing wrong with your desires, Papa. Let me take care of you."

His voice sounded menacing as he responded. "Watch. Your. Tongue. You speak like this again and you'll see what happens." Your eyes flickered with mischief. Stepping closer from the wall to him again. The faint pain already subsiding, it wasn't a hard push really. One hand running over his chest once you were near enough. "I have to admit that tone of yours is arousing... Yet, I want to make you feel good in such a different way... What are you afraid of?" You leaned in a little closer.

"No! You're... You're..." His face turned red, his breathing getting heavier. Out of anger or because he was flustered. Who knew. "I'm not going to tolerate your behavior." He tried to force a stern expression on his face, but it's clear he's losing his self control. You chuckled. He was about to break. He needed just a little more. So you rounded him with slow steps. Hands sliding from his chest over his shoulders. Stopping behind him, you leaned closer to his ear. Your voice dropping to a husky whisper. "You like to give out orders, but how good are you at following them?" Your hands on his shoulders tightened their grip softly.

You could feel Secondos body shaking slightly. He grabbed one of your hands and pulled it down, away from him to the side. His breathing growing agitated. It's clear he's losing all his grip on the situation. "I demand... You leave." He managed to get out, his voice low and just ever so slightly shaking.That poor attempt at recovering control drew a giggle from your lips. "Do you really want that, tesoro?" The hand that got removed from his shoulder now came to rest on his waist. He felt your breath on his neck, slowly lowering his head. "Don't..." He stuttered, struggling to form words as you could see him visibly trembling. He looked down and his lower lip quivered slightly.

"Mhm what was that? You need to speak up amore." The other hand now joined his waist. Holding him close, pressing your body against his back. Secondo tried to fight for control but momentarily gave in. You felt his body relaxing slightly. He pressed close to you and you heard him whisper. "Dammit..."

The smirk on your lips just grew. Turning him around in your grip, facing him once more. Immediately locking your eyes with his. "No need to be so shy." A hand came up to stroke over his cheek, a finger tilting his chin. "I need you to be good for me now, yeah? Can you do that?"

"I..." He sighs heavily. You saw him take a deep breath, then exhaling, almost a whimper. "Yes...." He looked at you intently as he breathed heavily. Nodding, agreeing to your request. "Yes..."

Your hand stroked over his cheek once more before resting on his shoulder. "Good, good..." A smile played around your lips as your voice got softer. "Now down on your knees." You saw him nod again and without another word he sank to the ground, falling back to rest on his knees before you. Staring up. That was truly a sight to behold. He looked good down there. The longer you stared at him, the more he couldn't hold back from blushing. "I will use you as my special little toy." At this point your voice sounded almost like singing.

The look in Secondos eyes and his overall body language was that of a man who got defeated. He gave you a soft, pleading look but then lowered his eyes. "Yes..." He whispered. You chuckled. Stepping a little closer. Your tail swaying softly as you tilted his head up and bent down. Just locking your lips together with a soft kiss. It was demanding, yet gentle. His lips part as he felt yours land on his. Melting into the kiss, leaning into it as he couldn't resist. He started to feel light-headed and began to breathe in short, swift breaths. Despite cursing himself, he leaned forward, kissing you back. A slight moan slipped from his throat as he got lost in the sensations of the kiss.

You pulled back after that moan. You couldn't have him enjoy himself too much yet. Wiping some saliva from his lips. "That's not so bad, no?" Smiling you stood up straight again. Secondo stayed down. Seeming kind of breathless, his cheeks getting a shade of redness. Looking up at you, his eyes pleaded for more. "More..." His voice was low and surpisingly soft. It was another side of the stoic antipope.

"You're not in a position to make demands, love." The way he looked at you, full of desperation. It was exhilarating. You lifted your skirt, revealing no underwear underneath. "Now, head back and tongue out. Stay down and don't even think about using your hands." Secondos eyes widened for a split second. In a flash his body did exactly as you said, his head fell backwards and his tongue poked out. His cheeks turned a shade darker as he made short, gasping breaths.

"Oh look at you. Panting like that with your tongue out? What are you, a dog?" You smirked, eyes narrowing as an idea struck you. "You'll have to bark for your treat." Wiggling your hips to accentuate your words. He tried so hard to keep himself in check and stop himself from just losing it completely. But then he heard you and his body reacted. He began to whimper a little and tried to do his best dog impression as he gave out a soft bark.

"My my... How can I resist when you play along so nicely?" Moving closer you rested one hand on his shoulder as you stepped over him. Your legs left and right from his, lining yourself up with his face. "Now do what a good doggy does and lick." With that simple command, it was like a switch being flicked on in Secondos head. His whole body started to move autonomously as he went into complete submission mode. Letting out a low whine and then a soft woof. Then he just started lapping away at the spot you told him to. You closed your eyes briefly. Allowing yourself to feel the sensation. Feeling his tongue on your slit, on the sensitive spot above. A content sigh escaping your lips.

His ears perked up as he heard the sigh. Trying so hard to stay focused and not to lose himself in the feeling. But you could see that he loved this. His body slowly began to relax, looking up at you intently when he could. His eyes filled with longing for you, his hips wiggled slightly. Shifting his leg position. Your hands came up to cradle his head. He whimpered softly when you held him like that. Then you started to move yourself. Riding his tongue. Glancing down at the pathetic figure. Noticing the movements of his hips. Smiling while panting slightly. Seconds tongue moved with expert precision. You saw him looking up at you eagerly when his tongue broke contact.

You raised an eyebrow, looking at him displeased. Your breath already quickening. "Did I tell you to stop?" "No... You didn't..." He whined when you spoke to him so harshly. Then you grinned. "Is it getting tight in your pants down there?" He stared up at you from the ground with that same look of desperate longing in his eyes and it's obvious he'll do anything you tell him to. He gave off another soft whine as you spoke and nodded when you asked him the question. "Y-yes..."

After a mere second of thinking you placed one foot between his legs. Pressing down softly at the bulge. "You better continue if you want that pleasure." With a more forceful pull you positioned yourself on his mouth again, rolling your hips. Secondos eyes rolled back and he let out a gasp. Gazing up at you with desire and immense pleasure in his eyes, his body began to tremble. Lowering his head quickly he got back to work, his tongue going harder and faster than before. Continuing doing exactly as you told him to.

"That's it... You feel so perfect..." Your voice got a little shakey, clearly pleased by the sensations. Your foot softly pressing and releasing the boner underneath. Massaging it as your hips moved more intensely. "Am I doing good?" He whimpered as he continued his tongue work. His breath was heavy now and it was clear that he tried to do his best to make you feel as good as possible. You felt soft vibrations as he spoke between your legs. Making you audibly moan as your rhythm got slightly faster. "Tesoro, you're doing very good~" Closing your eyes, your head tilted back. Suddenly gasping as you felt his tongue inside.

He let out a grunt. Trying so hard to please you and now he could see that it was working. You could see him starting to get flustered again but this time it's not him trying to hide his feelings. This time he just let devotion take over him. He was moaning audibly now, his eyes closed in absolute bliss.

The game continued for a while. The air filled with panting and soft growls. The wet sounds of his tongue against you. Sliding in and out. Your foot working him. Feeling how it affected you as his mouth got more aggressive. "So good... So perfect... My fucktoy..." Secondos ears perked up when he heard the words. "My..." His eyes shot open. It felt strangely praising when you said it. It almost felt like something had snapped inside his head. There was a sudden change in his demeanor. He looked up at you, letting out a little whine. "Caro ghuleh..." He said softly.

Your lips parted, another growl escaping you. Feeling almost on edge. "What is it? Do you want to come? Is that it?"

"Y-yes." Squirming under you when you spoke to him. You could see him struggling to make a sentence in his complete daze. You took his head in both hands again, pressing his face right between your legs. Needing more friction. Just a little bit more contact. "F-Fuck.." You were loosing a bit of composure. "I allow you to." You breathed and immediately saw his eyes roll back again. His breath hitching. It almost sounded like a command. You could see it in his eyes, he would do anything you told him to.

He tried to speak, but it was clear he couldn't think very well right now as his body worked on instinct. "Ghuleh..." The sound muffled between your legs. Sending another shiver through your body. Goosebumps pleasantly spilling down your spine. It was only moments after that a wave of pleasure crashed down on you. Swallowing every rational thought. Your mouth hung open as moans and growl rolled through your body. Feeling the ecstasy in every vein. Secondos breath came to a halt and you saw a look of absolute bliss on his face. He continued for a few seconds, then his whole body quivered. Letting out a deep, long moan. Breathing heavily.

It took you some time to be steady on your legs again. Releasing his head, looking down. His cheeks flushed, mouth and chin wet. He looked just so pretty. Through his pants formed a dark spot. He tried to calm his breathing as he looked up at you with that same look of complete devotion. He felt complete and in a total high. "You..." He whispered in awe of you and what just happened. He smiled at you, the warmest smile you ever saw from him.

You held out a claw to him, helping Secondo up again before straightening your skirt. He took your hand and was up on his feet a moment later. A smile still lingering on his face. "Thank you..."

Calming your heartbeat and breathing you returned the smile, fixing your hair. "I told you I know what you need…"

[litanyrobin]

I wanna put a smile on your face

Summary:

Bernard Dowd has waited all his life for the moment when he can reach his beloved J.J. and join him in his kingdom of madness. Luckily, he doesn't need to wait anymore.

Or, Bernard's rise as Harley Quinn's successor alongside the current Joker.

I wanna put a smile on your face (Tim Drake x Bernard Dowd) by anyrobin in AO3

Raucous laughter erupted uncontrollably from Bernard's chest, shaking his entire body. The more he laughed, the more hysterical he became for not being able to stop. However, his eyes -wide as saucers and bloodshot- reflected pure satisfaction. Finally, after long hours and hours of waiting connected to various devices that gave him electric shocks and made his lips widen sideways, he had managed to capture on his face a grimace as magnificent as the one his beloved wore on his. The wait was over and a smile was forced upon him, parting his face with misunderstood madness and highlighting the white of his teeth with the reddish, slimy edges he had just outlined on top of the white cream with which he smeared his face. He tried to hum Mary had a little lamb as he drew a black heart over each cheek as a symbol of the love that guided him, but the melody broke into laughter at every turn. Finally, he highlighted his eyes with shades of red and black, matching his clothes, in honor of the old days when he had fallen in love with his beloved pumpkin.

"Babbler," they called in a sing-songy voice from outside the dressing room, like the wolf asking the children if they were ready to come out and play, "are you ready for the show?" 

"Yes, pumpkin, I'm coming! haha!"

Bernard rubbed his lips together and blew a kiss to the mirror before the maniacal grin took the place above his chin again. Then, he played with his fluffy hair and picked up his long two-sided mallet before heading over to where the second Joker was calling him, knowing better than to make him impatient.

He opened the door and Joker Jr, the former Robin he had fallen in love with in his civilian days, was waiting for him with one hand behind his back and another offering to help him down the steps of the RV they had stolen for the occasion. In front of them, several people bound between them stared at them in horror, their faces stained in tears and visible limbs quivering like jelly. 

"You look fantastic, Bernie," Tim murmured as he helped him down. Bernard gloated internally, for his boyfriend only called him that when he was in a good mood.  It would make him happier once he took care of the little mission his partner had brought him. 

"Thanks, pumpkin," he sighed. "Now let's see, who will play with this babbler today?"

ੈ✩‧₊˚

J.J.'s smile, as never before, wavered.

As much as Bernard loved that permanent smile on his face, he had to admit he was a little proud to be the only one who had the ability to make it falter. 

It was all a great coincidence. He, an admirer of the great criminal Harley Quinn's once great passion for the last Joker; follower of all the conspiracy theories of Gotham City's underworld and the heroes who dealt with them; in love with the third Robin and the one who had once been under the mask since, like, forever... He, of all people, had been kidnapped by the current Joker, or Junior... By Tim Drake.

He wasn't surprised he'd fed up with Gotham's heir to crime, after all, he wasn't able to quiet his excitement at finally having an encounter with, he assumed, the crush of his youth. And he assumed because his theory that Tim Drake, former Robin (it had concluded many, many years ago), was the Joker Jr. was due to a bunch of internet rumors and street speculation he'd tied up on his own until he'd convinced himself of it.

"This. Is. Exciting," he squeaked under his breath. It didn't go unnoticed by J.J., however, whose eye twitched for the third time, already beginning to realize that he wouldn't get a ransom for Bernard. He probably considered him unbearable, he didn't blame him. But it was just that he felt like he was in one of his most twisted dreams. "Will you explain to me what your plan is? Are you going to strap me on dangerous chemicals? Joker gas? Oh, you're going to broadcast on television?" He wasn't ready to go on TV, but he would be happy to continue spending time with the love of his life. He wanted to see how much he had changed.

An incredulous laugh went through Junior.

"Wow wow, you're quite a babbler, don't you ever shut up? What are you babbling about?" he laughed harder, regaining his mad composure. "You're quite the babbler. I want to squash you like a bubble."

Bernard swallowed a comment regarding Junior's joke. That certainly wasn't his forte. Instead, he opted for another relationship that lambasted him with force.

"Babbler, like the bird... We'd be two birds, a pair of little turtledoves!" offered Bernard, too focused on his romantic projection to catch Tim's wince at the bird comparison.

"Ha... Haha... Hahaha... Hahahaha... Hahahahaha!" he began to laugh hysterically. Bernard was undeterred. "Oh, we'd better shut you up soon, hadn't we, babbler? Let's make that smile disappear for a while..."

ੈ✩‧₊˚

Joker Junior had a thing for scaring the successors of Batman and company. Bernard could understand the reason and therefore empathize with the cause quickly, knowing what he had to do when fighting the old and new members of his pumpkin's former family.

"Yuujujuu, little bats, over here! Come play with Babbler," Bernard called, shaking his free hand and laughing. He began twirling his mallet and running up to the man in the black suit and blue bird on his chest. He shook the weapon playfully until he hit him excitedly on the back and then acted as if it had been an accident. "Whoops. Hahahahaha."

His mission was to take care of the hostages, keep the sidekicks away while Joker Jr. took care of the big leaguers, the big bat, all in black and red bat on his chest, and his current robin, too much like Tim's style in his Robin days. Tacky, if you asked Bernard. Anyone underneath the mask was a disgusting pretender. No one would ever measure up to his beloved, no matter which of his legacies it was. He was the best robin, the best joker and the best human being that had ever lived. No one would ever be able to catch up to him and Bernard would be by his side every step of the way, even if it led nowhere. If Timothy wanted to amuse himself in an eternal sick chase between him and his old family, Bernard would accompany him. 

Till death do them part and after that.

"Baaabler?" shouted Joker, up on top of some rafters and threatening to cut the ropes of a guy tied up on top of an acid pit. Classic. "Are you here, honey?"

"I'm coming, pumpkin!" he replied, dodging a kick from his opponent and punching him in the face. 

However, as soon as he wanted to dodge another punch, he was pierced by a burst of pain in his bare arm after feeling a loud gun noise. 

Shit, none of them had noticed that a red hooded man had joined in the fun and now Bernard had a bullet stuck in his arm.

"Ha ha, that's what was missing!" he laughed gritting his teeth. He switched the mallet in his hand and stumblingly tried to hit the hooded man while taking hits from the bluebird. "Damn bats, always in cologne. They need to get independent," he gasped.

"Look who's talking, always glued to that crazy man's hip," the hooded one spat, missing a shot as Bernard swung hard to avoid him. "You can't talk..." he took a blow from Babbler's mallet on the knee, "...about independence. Uh. You're gonna pay for that one."

And he did, as another bullet landed in his thigh.

"Bernie!" he heard the Joker yell as he tackled the big bat, leaving a gap for it to hit him.

No names on the field, Bernard wanted to say, but black dots began to cloud his vision.

ੈ✩‧₊˚

"I'm so, so glad you let me help you, Tim," Bernard said. The kidnapping had been a failure and Tim had agreed to give him a chance at his side. Because he remembered, Bernard repeated to himself excitedly. 

Tim stiffened, however, and whipped his cane against the floor before knocking over everything on a table in the corner of the giggle house they were hiding in. 

"No names on...," he mumbled. Then he cleared his throat and grinned like a maniac again. "Who's that? I think you're talking about the dead ones, Babbler. I don't like that. And you don't want something I don't like," he threatened. 

But Bernard actually agreed. He wanted to do nothing more than pleasing his beloved. And it made him shudder that Joker Jr. had a nickname for him so soon, regardless of whatever connotation that one had. 

"Sorry... ehm, Junior."

Junior started laughing uproariously and kicked a chair next to where Bernard was sitting like a dutiful auditor.

"Junior? Ha! Why would it be Junior when there's no one to confuse me with anymore."

For a second, some courage struck Bernard and he decided that maybe making his true intentions clear next to the Joker would help him. Then he said:

"And what about...honey...", he stood up and slowly approached Tim. As the latter did nothing to push him away or move away, nor did he move a muscle, he had the audacity to curl his arms behind the other boy's neck. "O puddin', my honey, my beloved...sweetie, pumpkin." He brought his face close to the other until their noses were about to touch, his breathing erratic and his heart pounding.  Joker Junior began to laugh, very loudly, without pushing him away. Then he grabbed him around the waist and smiled creepily at him, but with his eyes narrowed in something Bernard wanted to believe might amount to affection.

"Well, why not, I guess everyone needs a sidekick... or something."

ੈ✩‧₊˚

Joker Jr. had a large bruise expanding on the side of his right eye and blood trickling down his lower lip. His wrist was beginning to swell where he had probably gotten a sprain after jumping from the rafters to grab Bernard and flee the crime scene until he managed to completely miss the bat colony. 

"I'm...," Bernard coughed and spit out some blood he accumulated at some point during the fight, "I'm fine, pumpkin. You don't have to worry about me. You can finish the job, haha." 

The Joker ran his sore hand in exasperation through his hair, and shook his head, jaded. 

"Shut up. Just, shut up, Bernard. I know the best thing you do is talk... a lot," he laughed, more raucously than he intended and couldn't stop for a few long seconds. "Tch, just, shush. Let me bandage this up. You'll be fine, honey."

He'd actually lost a lot of blood while they'd escaped, it wasn't fine, but he liked to believe in Tim.

"Okay... It's okay. I'm fine. We're fine, pumpkin," he murmured with a chuckle. From where he lay and Junior fiddled with bandages on his arm, Bernard raised his free hand and swatted Tim's bruised cheek. "It's going to be okay, so put a smile on that face. Take that grimace off, haha." 

With his bloody finger, Bernard forced Tim to raise one side of his mouth and elicited a blood-painted scary half-smile. He was so cute.

"Haha."

Tim smiled fully just as Bern's hand fell against his will and his vision went completely dark.

"I'll, ah... See you later, pumpkin. Smile."

ੈ✩‧₊˚

When the electric shock therapy was over, Joker Junior dressed in his best purple suit and made sure his greenish-black hair was as decent as it could be. He fixed his unique clown makeup and with thumbs smudged in red paint stretched a big grin toward his ears, putting more pressure than necessary on his cheeks. 

Bernard, who couldn't stop laughing to the point of tears, but was pleased with it, finished painting hearts on his cheeks and walked to the outstretched hand waiting for him to walk to the bound hostage waiting for them to read their vows.

It was a modest ceremony, just the two of them and the priest on top of abandoned containers near the harbor in Marina. They walked hand in hand to the bound priest and let him read the usual Catholic wedding paragraphs, asking him to add and emphasize the wrongness of gay marriage just to annoy him more. Junior pointed his gun at him, the one that had killed his predecessor, and looked at him with malice as the ceremony went on, only changing his expression when his eyes met Bernard's excited ones. 

Finally, Bernard said after Tim:

"I take you from this day forward until death do us apart."

And Tim replied:

"And after that, honey."

"And after that," Bernard repeated with a chuckle, putting a smile on his Joker's face.

♡

[frogtanii]

warm.

it’s too warm, was your first waking thought as you sluggishly waded through the mound of blankets that encompassed you to get a breath of fresh air (you assumed bokuto and kuroo were the culprits for your warm and fuzzy hellhole). your eyes first fell on the television playing the credits to the second or third pirates of the caribbean movie on mute, the remote haphazardly thrown somewhere to your left as though the person who did so left in a hurry.

speaking of people, there was no one left in the room as you slowly joined the land of the living. a part of you suspected everyone had gone to bed but atsumu or akaashi would’ve woken you up if that had been the case.

belatedly, you recognized voices coming from the front door and your still sleep-addled brain lit up. oh! you thought. food must be here! untangling yourself from the blankets proved to be an exhausting feat because by the time you were done, your body was covered in a sheen of sweat underneath oikawa’s sweats and sakusa’s hoodie.

ugh, gross.

you began to make your way towards the door, the blood rushing through your head preventing you from hearing the details of conversation but knowing atsumu, he was just haggling for a lower price even though you told him repeatedly, that isn’t how pizza places work tsum.

as you drew nearer to the commotion, you started to pick up on the heavy tension in the air, leaving you extremely uncomfortable. you had no idea what the cause of it was but you did know it was making most of the boys upset, who, by the way, hadn’t noticed you creeping around just yet.

a feminine voice rang out from outside the doorway and though you were still attempting to gain your hearing, the sound sent chills down your spine. it sounded saccharine, sweet, familiar, and oh so evil.

even with a head full of cotton, you figured now wouldn’t be the best time to reveal yourself, what with the clear discomfort permeating the atmosphere, but your big fat mouth apparently had other plans.

“‘tsum, just let the poor pizza lady go,” you muttered, the beginnings of a headache making itself known at the back of your skull. you were a little too caught up with the dwarf banging at your head with a sledgehammer to notice the shock that everyone in the room turned to look at you with.

a gentle hand grasped at your forearm, whispering something into your ear before attempting to pull you back to the living room, but that same familiar voice from the door kept you planted where you stood.

“oh, the princess finally makes herself known,” meiko sneered, her face finally coming into focus, striking you with pang of fear straight through your heart. “funny, i thought i left you speechless the last time we... ‘talked’.”

“ya shut yer fuckin mouth,” atsumu lunged at her but was stopped by sakusa’s arm around his waist, successfully holding him in place. meiko just giggled, taking a step into the house, her heels clicking as she glided across the hardwood floors.

in the back of your head, you noted that meiko looked unusually beautiful, her makeup flawlessly done and her outfit complementing it perfectly, almost reminiscent of how she used to be before... well, just “before”.

you watched the boys unconsciously angle themselves as a protective wall around you, the person holding your arm (who you now realized was koushi) pulling you in tighter until your back was resting against his chest.

a part of you couldn’t help but feel a little suffocated but the other, more self preserving, bit felt irrationally safe and protected around these boys. it was nice... or it would’ve been if meiko wasn’t taking herself on a tour around the house as though she hadn’t been living there for almost the past year.

“you all can tone down on the guard dog act. i’m not here to fight,” she said as she pretended to wipe dust off the island. “you’re not?” bokuto’s skeptical voice rose up from behind you, one of his hands finding yours underneath the massive sleeves of your (sakusa’s) hoodie.

meiko shook her head with an empty smile, her perfectly painted red lips stretching unnaturally wide. “no, of course not! i’ve just come here to collect.”

the boys collectively tensed around you, akaashi whispering for kenma to go find yachi and quickly. as he slipped away, you made eye contact with sakusa who gave you an imperceptible nod that you assumed meant one thing — keep her talking.

“collect what?” you asked, your voice coming out weaker than you wanted, but you hoped she didn’t notice. she cocked her head as her eyes snapped to you as if she’d forgotten you were there, but judging by her growing smirk, you knew that wasn’t the case.

“my boys of course!” meiko clapped gleefully, clicking her way over toward kuroo to run her hand over his bicep, laughing when he jolted away from her touch. “they’ve always been mine, you know that don’t you?”

it felt like a cold bucket of water had been dropped over your head. you felt frozen again, the same feeling of dread creeping up your spine as it did when meiko attacked you. in turn, you barely noticed kenma’s return who whispered something to sakusa — an action that didn’t go unnoticed by meiko.

“what’re my boys talking about? are you plotting against me?” she pouted, scooting closer to the pair. kenma visibly paled and moved to hide himself behind sakusa’s broad shoulders. “we aren’t doing anything, meiko.”

wrong answer.

“oh, we both know that isn’t the case kiyoomi. i’m not a fucking idiot.” meiko’s voice filled with venom before moving even closer still. you felt your heart beating rapidly in your chest, your hand gripping bokuto’s even tighter.

what if she brought some kind of weapon to the house? what if she hurt you? what if she hurt them?

before you could think, you were standing in front of the group, the boys calling out your name as meiko’s face lit up. “so the precious little princess wants to take a stand! let me have it then, huh? let me see what all the craze is about!”

despite the fear thudding in your chest, you stood tall, glaring at her with your head held high. “the boys are not yours, meiko,” you declared, her mouth instantly opening in protest but you refused to let her speak.

“they aren’t possessions or objects you can own and treat like shit. they are people, real living, breathing people and they aren’t mine either. they have full reign to do what they want, when they want, to make their own choices and decisions. and you know what? they didn’t choose you or me. they chose themselves and their happiness over any bullshit you or i could try and sell them. so please, for the love of god, get your shit together, put it in a box and take it to fucking therapy.”

by the end of your impromptu speech, your chest was heaving but you felt good. really good. adrenaline was rushing through your veins and you felt powerful. out the corner of your eye, you noticed osamu and daichi standing at the bottom of the stairs with something akin to awe on their faces.

yeah bitches. take it all in.

unfortunately, while you were basking in the feeling of badassery, you completely missed meiko’s eyes lighting up with pure, unadulterated,

rage.

you faintly heard someone call your name before you were taken to the ground by meiko leaping at you like an animal. the two of you scrambled about on the hardwood, her hands yanking at your clothes and leaving scratches on your skin but you were sure as hell giving her a run for her money.

you finally managed to get on top of her, pinning her arms to the ground but that wasn’t before you gained a hard elbow to the side and a bruise to your face. meiko thrashed and shook in your hold but you were not wavering, trying to keep her entirely still for...

well, for what exactly?

almost as though they were on cue, you heard the sound of police sirens wailing in the distance, growing louder as they drew closer to the house. underneath you, meiko’s eyes widened before she began fighting even harder than she’d done before, her erratic movements making it much more difficult to keep your hold on her.

luckily, you had extremely muscular men at your disposal, one of which (osamu — even though he was a dick, he was still incredibly muscular dick) held down meiko’s arms as the lapd stormed the building.

the police officers easily retracted meiko from your arms and cuffed her, taking her to the back of the cop car, despite her loud and insistent threats on you and everyone you love.

very disney villain-esque.

a kind looking officer helped you to your feet and walked you out to the porch where he began to ask you and the boys a few questions. you answered them honestly and you were genuinely proud of how well you were handling the whole situation when—

“bubs, you’re shaking.” sure enough, when you looked down at your hands, you were twitching uncontrollably, the reality of the events that just occurred finally sinking in.

you were just attacked. again.

you and your friends were threatened.

meiko was sitting in the back of a fucking cop car.

“what the fuck,” you whispered, eyes staring unblinking at your palms. the same officer mentioned something about shock, prompting all the boys to gather around you; atsumu pulled you in between him and sakusa, wrapping his arm around your shoulders, kenma and bokuto took hold of your quivering hands, sugawara and oikawa sat off to the side watching you with blatant concern, and kuroo and akaashi spoke to the officer in hushed tones.

the man nodded and shook their hands before shooting you a pitying smile and heading back to the car where meiko was waiting.

“it’s over angel, ‘s over,” atsumu muttered into your hair, pressing kisses to your forehead in between each phrase. you leaned into his touch but you refused to take your eyes off meiko who was watching the whole scene from the backseat, her eyes wide with anger, hurt, and confusion.

you didn’t bother dwelling on it, instead focusing on evening out your breathing and looking at the car drive over the horizon. you heard yachi’s soft voice calling everyone inside, atsumu lifting you up to your feet and walking with you, never once taking his hands off of you.

still, his words echoed in your head, even as yachi spoke of the end of the hyper house, even as the boys brought you to your room, and even as they all automatically cuddled around you in an attempt to get you to sleep.

it’s over. it’s all finally over.

you couldn’t keep the grin off your face if you tried.

℗ poker face

it’s over

series masterlist

(●’◡’●)ﾉ

an - OK THE TITLE IS MISLEADING THE STORY IS NOT OVER YET SKENSM (there are 2 more official story chapters before all the endings :3) also m not the biggest fan of this chapter?? so i’d love to hear what y’all think <33 don’t forget to feed me!!

taglist - if your name is in bold, i cannot tag you

@boosyboo9206 • @geektastic84 • @elianetsantana • @trashy-simp • @infinitebells • @6mattsun9 • @suhkusa • @katsulovee • @kotarosbabygirl • @fucktheworlddude • @insomniacwreck • @calumsfringe • @saltylettuce • @chai-blu • @al3x1ss • @hawksyoongi • @jooleuuh • @loubells • @kissungjae • @liberhoe • @tetsurocore • @animeoverdosee • @duhsies • @saiKishaircLip • @afire24 • @premiyagi • @kit-kat428 • @doctorspencereid • @daphnxy • @kyomihann • @maer-333 • @sinoflust19 • @peteunderoos • @peachiikichu • @iidanotlida • @yongboxerrr • @kac-chowsballs • @tanakaslastbraincell • @memorableminds • @risjime • @starry-magicshop • @sugavwara • @smuttyanimeslut • @kiwibirbs-library • @haijkk • @airybnb • @crybabygumi • @iwaisa • @decaffinatedtealover • @notameera • @kawaii-angelanne • @rintarovibes • @urlocalsimp • @keiarma • @shrimpypenis

the rest of the tags will be in the replies!!

[obeymeoasis]

Demon Bros React: MC Defends Them From Nasty Remarks

Warnings: Explicit language, MC being mildly violent (throwing/kicking things).

Lucifer

Lucifer had just finished some paperwork for Diavolo and was on his way to R.A.D to deliver it.

In the hallway he could hear two demons talking and laughing. As he got closer he heard them say "Lucifer" and instinctively ducked into a nearby alcove.

"Lucifer's such an asshole." "I know, right? He acts like he's so much better than the rest of us when really, he just has a huge stick up his ass. It's no wonder he doesn't have any friends. Even his own brothers don't like him!" "He'll probably spend the rest of his life being Diavolo’s little bitch."

He would be lying if the comments didn't make him angry. But it was far from the worst thing he had heard about himself and would definitely not be the last time someone spoke ill of him.

With a weary sigh, Lucifer turned toward the south entrance where he could walk in order to avoid the demons. He could have strode past and glared at them menacingly. He could have made them grovel on their knees. But he was honestly exhausted and looked forward to this day being over as soon as possible. Plus, it would reflect poorly on Lord Diavolo if he started a fight with some lesser demons over this.

Suddenly, the chatter of the demons was interrupted by a loud thumping sound followed by the sound of one of the demons screeching in pain.

Lucifer quickly turned around to see- Oh no. You were standing in front of the demons, rage clear on your face. The demon who had yelled in pain was crouched on the ground holding his bruised shoulder. A History of the Devildom textbook was open on the ground, pages crumpled.

Did you... did you just throw a textbook at a demon?

Before he could even move, he heard your angry voice. "Listen here you fuckers. How dare you talk about Lucifer like that. He's one of the kindest, most intelligent, most thoughtful beings I've ever met. And you have no right to speak of him like that! I love him!"

Lucifer's heart burst at your declaration, his cheeks warming in pleasure. The two demons however, who had been gaping at you in shock, were now beginning to look murderous. The injured one stood up and slowly inched toward you, a vicious grin on his face. "Oh, is that so? And what the hell is a weak human like you going to do about it?"

You opened your mouth to speak but before you could say anything, Lucifer picked you up and threw you over his shoulder. "Love, I appreciate how you stood up for me. There's not many people who have done so for me before. But any more would cause trouble. And also, please don't throw textbooks at others, no matter how much you think they deserve it."

With a smug smile on his face, Lucifer began to walk toward the dorms. You, however, were struggling to turn your head around, still yelling and pointing angrily at the demons. "This isn't over! Sleep with your eyes wide open! You'll be hearing from my lawyer!"

He really did love you.

Mammon

Mammon was at the casino on a Monday night. It was lively as always, crowds of people playing group games and others drinking and mingling.

But for some reason, Mammon felt like being alone. He was in one of the more quiet corners, playing the slot machines.

He honestly should have been back at the dorms doing his homework. He was here because he felt like he had to, but his heart wasn't really in it. Mammon thought about packing it up early and texting you to see if you wanted to hang out.

The sudden sound of glass shattering broke through his thoughts. There was some sort of commotion going on and Mammon could hear angry yelling and cursing, some kind of argument.

Like many of the other customers, Mammon drifted toward the noise wanting to see what had happened. His heart sank when he saw you in the middle of the crowd, still in your R.A.D uniform, arguing with an older demon who Mammon recognized as a regular. They had played some games together before that always ended in angry accusations. The remains of a drinking glass lay shattered on the floor.

Mammon quickly rushed to your side. "MC, what the hell are you doing here?! What happened?" Up close he could see how livid you looked, you were trembling with fury.

The older demon opened his mouth while gesturing at his ruined clothes. "This bitch threw a drink at me! I should have them arrested! Do you know how much this tuxedo costs?" Ignoring him, you turned to face Mammon.

"Mams, Lucifer told me to check up on you and you weren't answering my calls. So I decided to come in person to make sure you were okay. But then I heard this asshole saying terrible things about you to his friends, calling you a liar and a cheater and all kinds of horrible names that you're not!"

Mammon was shocked to see you were struggling to fight off your tears, your lower lip quivering. "I know how caring and genuine and loving you are and I couldn't stand by while he said those things about you! None of it’s true!"

Overcome with emotion Mammon embraced you fiercely, shielding you from the other demon. "Oh, babe. Ya really are a special one.” Mammon gently stroked your hair and whispered in your ear. “I don't care about what he said, but thanks for sticking up for me. I love ya so much."

"Now let's make a run for it so that demon doesn't kill us."

Leviathan

Levi was slowly getting used to being in a relationship with you in public. At first, interactions were limited to the privacy of his room: cuddling and watching movies, gaming together, reading manga together. But now he looked forward to waiting for you after classes and walking home with you while holding hands.

His face got really red and he had a hard time making eye contact with you but still, he thought it was an improvement.

Right now he was waiting for you outside your classroom, scrolling through his D.D.D to kill time. Suddenly, he heard someone call your name.

“MC, you’re dating Levi right?” At the sound of his name he peeked in the window to see you cornered by three demons. He saw you nod. 

The demons began to barrage you with questions. “Why are you with a loser like that? Doesn’t he like never leave his room?” “He’s honestly the ugliest out of his family. I don’t believe that Levi and Asmo are related.” “You don’t actually find him attractive, do you?” “Are you with him ‘cause he’s like the easiest to control?” 

Each word felt like someone was piercing his heart. These were all things that he had thought or wondered himself, days when the darkness seemed to win over his mind. But to have them spoken out loud, especially in front of you, it was unbearable. It was as if his lowest and most shameful thoughts were being justified.

He was afraid to hear what your answers would be. Biting his lower lip, Levi turned to head home by himself but flinched at the loud sound of something slamming into the wall. He peeked inside the window again and saw you standing there, furious, your hands clenched into fists. You had apparently kicked one of the desks into the wall, black scuff marks clearly visible against the white paint.

“Alright, listen here you despicable fucks because I’m only going to say this once. My relationship with Levi is private, meaning all of your questions can be answered with ‘none of your damn business’. But since you’ve gone out of your way to waste my time, I’ll let you know this: Leviathan is more beautiful, inside and out, than any of you will ever be in your entire miserable lives. I honestly don’t think you deserve to breathe the same air as him and I hope Levi summons Lotan to devour the three of you."

Levi’s jaw was on the floor. He had never heard you speak that way. He had never had someone defend him so fiercely. His thoughts were interrupted by the classroom door suddenly slamming open as you walked out."

“Oh Levi, tell me you didn’t hear anything just now.” Your eyes were wide and you looked at him nervously.

Levi grabbed your hand and held it tight between two of his own. “I did, but it’s alright. Thanks for what you said.”

“Anything for my Lord of Shadows.”

Satan

Satan was heading to the library, your usual after-school spot. Some days you two spent hours there doing homework, reading, or just chatting quietly about your day before heading to dinner.

As he approached the table he saw you sitting down with a stranger seated opposite you. Leaning closer he was relieved to see it was a classmate you were friendly with, someone he knew you hung out with occasionally.

Satan was about to say hello when he stopped at the mention of his name. "MC, are you sure it's wise to be this involved with Satan?"

He quickly ducked behind a nearby bookshelf. Satan usually wasn't one to eavesdrop like this but the question concerned him.

"MC, I'm asking you for your sake. Satan is dangerous. He's violent and cruel. There are rumors about him beating up other demons and doing horrible things to them. What if he tries to hurt you too?"

Satan flinched. Sure his wrath had led him to do some destructive things before, but it was never without reason. Is this how you saw him as well? His thoughts began to spiral. What if you grew scared of him? Of his wrath? What if you flinched at his touch? That would hurt more than any of the rumors that swirled about him. 

Satan saw you take a deep breath before speaking. "Well, I appreciate you talking to me about this. I know you meant the best and were just thinking about me. But I promise you, you have nothing to be worried about. Satan would never hurt me."

He saw your friend shake their head, exasperated. "But you don't know that! What if one day he can't control himself and has an outburst or something?"

You replied carefully. "Satan is gentle. Incredibly so. He always treats me with nothing but respect and kindness. And Satan's not some kind of monster. He knows how to control himself and his powers. I love him. I really do. And until he decides to stop loving me, I want to be by his side."

He saw your friend huff irritably and get up to walk away. "Suit yourself, MC. Don't say I didn't warn you."

Satan took this as his cue to walk over. Your eyes brightened at the sight of him and you started to ask him about his day, acting as if nothing had happened. Satan played along for a bit, but then reached across the table for your hand and began playing with your fingers.

His hand was shaking. "I'll never stop loving you, you know. For as long as I live you're the only one for me. I love you, MC."

Asmodeus

Asmo was thrilled when you said you wanted to go dancing with him because he was usually the one pestering you to do things. He was having so much fun with you tonight, twirling you around on the dance floor and marveling how beautiful you looked under the shimmering lights of the club.

He was beginning to feel a bit hot, however, and excused himself to the bathroom, making sure you were safe on of the couches with a bottle of water in your hand.

Asmo had just finished touching up his makeup and adjusting his outfit when he heard two demons near the entrance of the bathroom gossiping loudly about him.

“Did you see what he was wearing tonight? He might as well have come naked instead of wearing those scraps of fabric he thinks counts as an outfit.” “My friend slept with Asmo once. She said he’s super easy, he’s willing to pretty much sleep with anyone.” “I bet him and that human won’t last another week. Once he’s done with them he’ll trash ‘em and move on to the next one, like he always does.”

Being the Avatar of Lust meant that Asmo had heard these kinds of comments before, whispered in the hallways at R.A.D or the dark hallways of nightclubs. It never really got easier listening to them though, and he realized he was biting down hard on his lower lip, his nails digging into his palm. 

Asmo contemplated what to do. He didn’t want to keep you waiting by yourself outside but he also didn’t want to run into the demons talking about him. Their comments affected him more than he thought they would. Maybe it was because you were involved. He wouldn’t do that to you. You knew that right? He would never treat you like a plaything.

Taking a deep breath and steeling his nerves Asmo schooled his face into an expression of careless indifference. He took a step outside, ready to greet his "fans", but was surprised to see that you had gotten there first.

And what a sight you were. Despite being much shorter than the two demons, it seemed you were the least bit intimidated. Your glare was ice cold as you gestured wildly at the two of them, and moving closer Asmo realized you were screaming.

"How fucking dare you say such vile things? You don't know the first thing about Asmo. You're really going to shame someone for what they wear?! For what they do in the privacy of their bedroom?!"

You pointed angrily at the demons, who seemed too stunned to move or say anything. "People like you make me fucking sick. You're despicable! Talking as if you're so high and mighty when all you do is judge others! How dare you? You cowards!"

Asmo could see you were getting more and more enraged and your hands were beginning to tremble. He leapt forward to stand between you and the demons and put his hands gently on your shoulders. Once he saw that you were okay, he gave you a passionate kiss, his mouth hot and needy against yours.

You kissed him back for a moment but moved away to hiss, "Karens, Asmo! Karens in the fucking Devildom, who would have thought?!"

"I know, darling. Let's head home. We can have a nice, relaxing bubble bath together."

Beelzebub

Beel was looking through the menu, deciding between a couple of his favorite dishes. It was your one year anniversary and despite his insistent protests, you had remained firm in your decision to pay for that night’s meal. Ever since you and Beel began dating, he pretty much always paid for your meals together because of how much he ate. But tonight, you wanted to be the one to treat him for once.

Beel knew you had secretly been saving up Grimm and he’d feel so guilty if you spent it all on him. Which was why he was trying to decide between a couple of different things, when normally he would have ordered everything on the page.

“Babe, please order whatever you want. I can practically see the thoughts turning in your head. I told you that I wanted to pay for tonight and I’m going to keep that promise. I want this to be a special night for us, so don’t worry about it.” Before he could protest, you called the waiter over.

Beel sighed and knew there was no changing your mind on this. You were incredibly stubborn when you wanted to be. He rattled off his usual order as the waiter frantically scribbled down notes, struggling to keep up. Once finished, Beel handed over the menus and smiled at how cute you looked, a mixture of pride and smugness on your face.

But your expression soon turned sour as you heard the conversation from a couple sitting a few tables over. Their voices were intentionally loud and they kept sneaking glances at your table as if to watch your reactions.

“Oh my lord, honey did you see how much food that guy just ordered? What an absolute pig!” “I saw, darling. I honestly pity his date right now, they must be soooo embarrassed.” “Is there anyone who wouldn’t be ashamed to be seen in public with such a selfish glutton?”

Beel’s heart felt like it had sunk. Embarrassed? Was MC embarrassed to be seen with him? Panicking, Beel thought back to all of the dates he’d had with MC so far. He realized that they ate out a good majority of the time they hung out, with Beel eating his normal enormous portions each time. Oh no, what had he done?

Head bowed, Beel slowly looked up at you, afraid to see what kind of expression you were making. But to his surprise, you didn’t look embarrassed or ashamed at all. You looked like you were going to murder someone.

He watched as you cleared your throat and then began speaking even more loudly than the couple had been. “OH BEEL, MY HANDSOME, KIND, LOVING, STRONG, SEXY, TALENTED BOYFRIEND. I LOVE YOU SO MUCH! YOU’RE HONESTLY SO AMAZING AND ONE OF THE QUALITIES I LOVE ABOUT YOU MOST IS THAT YOU’RE NOT A JUDGMENTAL ASSHOLE WHO MAKES RUDE INAPPROPRIATE COMMENTS TO STRANGERS ABOUT THINGS THAT ARE NONE OF THEIR DAMN BUSINESS!” 

Beel felt his lips inch into a smile and he flushed with amusement and happiness. But you weren’t finished just yet. “EXCUSE ME WAITER?” 

Your waiter practically ran to the table and looked between you two nervously, then at the couple glaring daggers in your direction. “COULD YOU PLEASE BRING US ANOTHER MENU? MY BOYFRIEND WASN’T FINISHED WITH ORDERING WHAT HE WANTS. OH BEEL, I LOVE HOW MUCH YOU EAT. HOW COULD SOMEONE BE EMBARRASSED OF A WONDERFUL GUY LIKE YOU?”

Beel took the menu and began listing some more foods at random, not really paying attention. He was too busy thinking about how much he loved you, how nobody aside from Belphie had ever stood up for him like that, had protected him like that. His cheeks felt like they were about to split from how much he was smiling.

When the waiter finally left, looking frazzled, Beel made his way over to your side of the table. He knelt down and nuzzled into your neck before giving you a tender kiss on your forehead. “MC, you’re amazing.”

Belphegor

Belphie had to admit, the gardens were a pretty nice place for a nap. Earlier in the day you had practically dragged him outside claiming that you were bored of sleeping in his room. As if that was even possible.

At first he was pretty annoyed that you were making him get up and move around. But the newly washed picnic blanket, the cool breeze rustling through the trees, and the light smell of flowers in the air all contributed to a very nice environment for a nap.

Belphie rested his head on your lap, already feeling his eyelids growing heavier. Your fingers gently combed through his hair, lightly scratching against his scalp, and he practically purred.

He guessed he had been asleep for about ten minutes when he awoke to the sound of your voice and something prodding against his knee.

Irritated at the disturbance, Belphie looked up to see two R.A.D students he recognized for always causing trouble. He looked over to see you scowling and guessed you had been telling them to leave so they wouldn't wake him up.

One of the students leered down, blocking out the light, and used the tip of his foot to poke Belphie's knee again. "Well the two of you make an odd fucking pair, huh?” He sneered, “Personally, I don’t date people who have MURDERED me in the past but what do I know? Love works in all kinds of mysterious ways.” You flinched as if someone had slapped you and Belphie growled, his hands curling into fists.

The other student leaned down to clap Belphie on the shoulder. “I gotta admit I didn’t know you had it in you, chief! I always thought you were...” He gave Belphie a once-over before adding “Well, everyone thinks you’re a bit fucking useless, eh? But I’m glad to see you’re capable of something.”

Belphie opened his mouth to reply venomously but was interrupted by the most horrifying sound coming from your mouth. It sounded like a combination of wailing and screeching as fat tears rolled down your cheeks. It was difficult to hear what exactly you were saying because of how hard you were crying, but Belphie could make out “How could you say that?!” and “Leave him alone!” among the screams. 

The two students had their hands over their ears, their faces twisted into grimaces of pain. One shouted, “What the fuck is wrong with you?” Worried, Belphie put a hand on your shoulder in an attempt to calm you down but you shrugged it off, continuing to cry and wail. Pretty soon other students began gathering around you, whispering amongst themselves and looking to see what all the noise and commotion was about. It was difficult to ignore you when you kept yelling things like “You’re horrible! Horrible! Leave us alone!” 

The two instigators looked at each other for a brief moment before deciding to run off, not wanting to get involved any further. And as soon as they left, it was like a switch had been turned off. You stopped crying and screaming immediately. If he hadn’t been there from the beginning, Belphie never would have guessed that you had been crying. Your face was perfectly calm and you sat relaxed with your hands folded, the picture of innocence.

“Belphie, don’t worry about what those two idiots said. We’ve talked about it enough and we’ve both worked it out, haven’t we? And you’re not useless. You know how much I love you and care about you. You mean so much to me.” 

Belphie leaned over to take your hand in his trembling one. He reached down to brush a stray leaf out of your hair before whispering, “MC, you’re fucking terrifying sometimes. I love you.”

[bellatrixscurls]

“achy” ☁️ draco x reader x harry

warnings : smut, dom/sub, sub!reader, sub!harry, dom!draco, soft aftercare, praise kink.

summary : you feel needy so you make harry skip transfiguration, and draco finds out.

a/n : not me writing for drarry again bc i’m literally obsessed with this ship- chile 😳.

“but please, har! i really need you” you pouted at the bespectacled boy, staring up at him as your hands tugged at his scarlet and golden tie, “you’re so pretty. please, angel.”

harry only sighed, biting his lip at the sight of you. you needed him so much, and seeing you in that state made him want you too, more than anything, “okay” he agreed, feigning indifference but a smile crept onto his face as soon as strings of ‘thank you’s and ‘i love you’s left your mouth, along with your arms wrapped tightly around his neck.

you wasted no time in dragging him up the stairs to his dorm, knowing that draco wouldn’t be able to catch you there.

closing the door behind him, harry let you undress him. you began with his tie, that you’d been dying to get off him since that morning, then with his pants and briefs, and finally took off his shirt, leaving him bare in front of you. you smiled weakly at him, leaning in and pressing a soft kiss on his chest, making him giggle at the action, “so fucking precious, ‘m love” you said as you got down on your knees, gripping his thighs for support as your lips lightly touched his red tip, causing him to shudder.

“so pretty” he whispered as he guided your head, your mouth taking all of him, making you gag at his impressive size, “f-fuck, y/n/n. taking all of me like such a good g-girl, fuck!” whined harry, pushing your head closer so you were forced to breathe through your nose, tears leaking out of your eyes at the roughness of his thrusts.

a few more thrusts along with your boyfriend’s praises and you couldn’t ignore your neediness, your hand immediately sliding down and playing with your clit. you hummed around his cock as he continued to fuck your mouth, and you heard harry chuckling from above you, “couldn’t take it anymore, could you, lovey ?” he questioned rhetorically, but you shook your head nevertheless, “stop that, angel.”

and although his tone was gentle, your hand immediately left your wet cunt, at the same time he cupped your face and eased himself out of your mouth, “lemme taste my sweet little girl” he said, earning a soft moan from you as you held two fingers up, close to his lips. harry’s tongue poked out as his mouth opened and he took your fingers between his upper lip and tongue, sucking and humming around them as his eyes closed.

the sight was pure sex. harry, with your fingers inside his mouth, tasting you and actually enjoying it. “d-daddy” you whispered, and harry’s eyes immediately snapped open, watching your glossy eyes and pouty lips, “wanna- wanna be fucked, please. wanna cum ‘round your cock, pretty please” and although a sub himself, harry couldn’t say he wasn’t enjoying that — you calling him ‘daddy’, while begging for his cock.

“well, good girls get what they want, don’t they, sweetheart ?” he asked, brushing some strands of hair out of your face. “m-i’m a good girl ?” you asked hopefully, watching as he nodded, satisfied at how submissive you were for him, and only him, “a good girl that’s gonna receive exactly what she wants, hm ?”

so you didn’t even try to control yourself anymore, and got on your back on the floor, pulling harry on top of you as you kissed him passionately, running your hands up and down his chest. chuckling, he pulled away for a second, “easy- easy, my love” he pressed his forehead against yours, slowly pushing his cock inside of you, pulling breathless moans and whines from you as he couldn’t control the endless groans escaping his parted lips.

“just l-like that- so good! so fucking good.”

***

an hour later, after cumming three times each, you were finally done. laying on the floor, sweaty bodies pressed against each other as you tried to catch your breaths. “should we t-take a bath now ? use some lotion for s-sore muscles ?” you asked, remembering the usual things draco’d do after sex.

harry was aware about those things, but being a sub himself, he couldn’t do it properly so he just said “i- i think we should go to dinner first, you know- so draco won’t be suspicious” he offered and you agreed, feeling hungry yourself.

you put on one of harry’s tshirts and your shorts, while harry dressed himself as well, and you headed to the great hall. while walking, your legs were visibly trembling, and harry seemed tense and uncomfortable as well, but you just brushed it off and continues walking.

once there, you made your way to the slytherin table, where you and harry sat on either of draco’s sides. but then again, sitting down wasn’t comfortable either — your pussy was aching and you swore that you could hear harry hiss as well.

frowning, draco glanced at you, then at harry and back at you, eventually opening his mouth, “didn’t see you in transfiguration” he spoke matter of factly, turning back to his food as he waited for an answer.

“i-i forgot to do my essay a-and you know how minnie gets” you told him quietly, your cheeks burning in embarrassment at what happened just a few minutes before.

draco hummed, not really impressed as he turned his gaze to his boyfriend, “and you ?”

looking down shyly, harry stuttered, “i was h-helping her.”

“right, so who’s idea was it ?”

“what idea ?”

“skipping class to fuck. without me ? d’you think i’m stupid, potter ?”

“we didn’t-”

“oh yeah ? explain this, then” draco said arrogantly, sliding one of his hands inside your underwear and slapping your clit lightly as you cried out in pain, half of the table turning to look at you, but they instantly looked away when draco glared at them.

deep in thought, draco removed his hand from your underwear and brought it up to nose, inhaling the scent with closed eyes. inhaling deeply, his eyes snapped open and he groaned, gripping both yours and harry’s wrists and practically dragged you up to his dorm.

***

“did you apply lotion ? take a warm bath ? wash your hair ?” draco yelled at both you and harry, as the only thing you could do was shake your heads, waiting for the punishment he had in store for you, sooner or later.

groaning in frustration, draco disappeared behind the door of his spacious bathroom — as he was a prefect. you shot harry a look as well as he did you, tears leaking out of your eyes as you waited for your boyfriend to come back.

“in here, now” his cold voice instructed and both of you obliged instantly, your legs quivering as you entered the bathroom, trying to stand straight in front of the blond, “my poor little babies...” he spoke softly as his hands went to cup one of your cheeks and one of harry’s, pulling you closer to his chest and holding you there.

you sobbed against his pale skin, the achiness increasing as well as your guiltiness, “m s-sorry, dray...didn’t wanna- i knew you w-wouldn’t skip class with us and- and harry looked so pretty...i’m so so sorry” by the time you were done speaking, your tears were dripping down your chin and all the way down draco’s shirt.

but instead of yelling or punishing you like you thought he would, draco shushed you, depositing harry and then you into the spacious bathtub.

“next time don’t do these things without permission, bubs...see ? it hurts now, doesn’t it ?” he cooed when you and harry winced as the hot water came into contact with your sore muscles and your overused bodies.

you nodded shyly as harry laid his head upon your chest, closing his eyes, “m sorry too...” he whispered, too shy to even look at any of you as he buried his face into your chest, “for being a bad boy, i mean...wanna be good f-” but harry couldn’t get the last words out of his mouth as his adorable little snores filled the room, causing both you and draco to giggle quietly.

“he’s probably gonna do this again, isn’t he ?” draco sighed, squeezing some shampoo on his palm and rubbing his palms together.

“if this is what we get, i’m most likely gonna do this again as well.”

“wh- hey!”

🩰 taglist; @daisyyy2516 @maybanksslut @fjorelaant @fredshufflepuff @amixedwitch @dracofknmalfoy @journeyofem @notthatchhavi @whisperingwhisper @stoleurmomsvan @olicity-believer @dreamy-clousds @harmqnia @v4l3nt1n44 @roonilwazlibswhore @drachoesimp @sluttylea @g1nnyslove @adrianscumslut @steveharringtonswhore @o-rion-sta-r @dracomalfoyswifeee @sweetbagelranchathlete @lolooo22 @ravenclawcartier

[vosh-rakh]

means and ends

author’s note: every character in here, aside from my ocs ku-vastei and llethym, and the made-up amiliah dren, is a canon character in-game, even down to the nameless “npcs”. i did a lot of research for this fic lol. some of them have different positions/roles than they do in game, mostly owing to the passing of time and intervening events, as well as some artistic liberty. i’ve been working on this fic for a long time, and it’s quite a bit longer than my usual work, but i’m very proud of it, and i hope you enjoy it as well!

- - - - -

“I hope you see the problem here, Mistress Darvasa.”

The Adebaal Egg Mine is dimly lit by glowing egg-sacs, which cast a grave light on Ku-vastei’s face. The new master of Tel Branora, Darvasa Vedas, is glad for her flowing robes, and the slight breeze passing through the tunnels, that her quivering before the Archmagister is not visible. An Argonian wearing a slave bracer tends to a nearby kwama worker, pretending not to listen.

“Yes, well, Archmagister, you see…” began Darvasa, “we had purchased them before the ban had gone into effect, so we had thought -”

“Do not lie to me, Darvasa,” whispered Ku-vastei, her voice like the steel in her hand. “I’ve seen the deeds of sale. Besides, the ban on slavery was retroactive. It is also emancipatory.” The nearby Argonian slave perks their head up slightly, unable to hide their curiosity. 

Darvasa is no longer sure she can hide her shaking. “Yes, yes, of course, Archmagister, but we needed workers for the mine, as you well know it is a major source of income for the tower, and not long before Therana’s untimely death somebody freed the slaves who had been working here previously, so we needed -”

“Yes, I know,” says Ku-vastei. She leans back a little and places her free hand on her hip. “I was the one who freed them.”

The enslaved Argonian can’t help but turn their head towards the free Argonian, and completely forgets about the kwama worker. But their attention is stolen again when the worker headbutts them.

Darvasa’s jaw dropped. “Before the ban went into effect?”

“The ban retroactively justifies my actions.”

Darvasa’s eyes close. “What shall I do, then, Archmagister?”

“Either free the slaves, or hire them as hirelings to the House and pay them fairly for their labor. I care not which, but the latter would likely benefit you in the long run.” Darvasa opens her eyes, and can barely see Ku-vastei’s lips move in the darkness; she appears as a scaled statue, leaning on an ancient spear, meting out divine judgment upon the mortals of House Telvanni.

“But…” Darvasa begins, but quickly changes her tune. “Yes, Archmagister, of course. I will hire them to the House.”

“Ensure they are treated as any other member of the House, Darvasa. And if this happens again, know that I will kill you.”

“Yes, Archmagister,” Darvasa says, bowing too low in presumed deference. 

“One more thing,” says Ku-vastei as she turns to leave. “Where did you purchase these slaves?”

Darvasa straightens into a stiff line. “Oh, please don’t make me say,” she begs. “They said they’d kill me if I did.”

“I’ll kill you if you don’t.” The Archmagister swings her spear in a small circle as she turns back, pointing it nonchalantly at Darvasa from a distance. But the physical threat isn’t necessary - the words themselves drip with such authority that the young Mistress can’t help but fear them.

Darvasa bites her lip and nearly collapses from how her legs shake. “Yes…yes, Archmagister. I bought them from…”

-

“Tel Aruhn?” Aryon asks as he and the Archmagister retreat to Tel Uvirith. “That’s impossible. We took care of the market there personally.”

Ku nods, remembering the bloodshed as a vivid red pinpoint in the recent past. “She wouldn’t say anything more.” She wipes ash from her eyes, kicked up from her shuffling through the dunes. “Apparently she had nothing to do with the purchase directly. We’ll have to investigate further.”

“You’ve shown unusual…restraint, in dealing with this so far, Archmagister.” Aryon walks ahead of Ku-vastei, proceeding backwards as he studies her face. His fierce brow furrows over his fire-red eyes. “You haven’t killed anyone yet.”

Ku smiles faintly. “We can’t be a House of murderers forever, Aryon. One of these days we’ll resolve most of our issues peacefully.”

Aryon grins, but there’s a concerned note to his voice when he asks, “Am I speaking to the true Hortator? Ku-vastei, bringer of fire and war?”

“In the times before slavery, Black Marsh operated similarly. War was an import from Resdayn.”

“I’m not sure history supports that claim,” Aryon says, returning to his place alongside Ku-vastei. “War is an integral facet of all cultures.”

“Regardless, perhaps it needn’t be.”

“Ever the idealist, Archmagister.” Aryon pats Ku-vastei on the back, but she doesn’t recoil from the touch. Strange future, she thinks, in which an elf - any elf - can touch my back without losing their hand. 

-

When they arrive at Tel Uvirith, they are greeted by the Erabenimsun scouts who delivered Ku-vastei’s guest. 

“Ilmeni Dren,” says Ku-vastei, bowing her head slightly. She glances at the Erabenimsun, who depart for their camp.

“Archmagister,” replies Ilmeni, who had been examining the fungal walls of the tower. She wipes her hands of the external dirt and turns to curtsy in the Imperial way. “Your reputation precedes you, both as Hortator and Ku-vastei, muthsera.” She says Ku’s name with a curious lilt, not quite the bizarre intonation of an elf attempting to speak Jel, but not quite the natural pronunciation of a born-speaker. It seems to suggest something beyond mere familiarity, but Ku-vastei can’t fathom what.

“As does yours, ‘lighter of the Twin Lamps.’ I hope we can work together to free Telvanni, and hopefully one day all of Morrowind, of the curse of slavery.”

“We’ll see, muthsera,” says Ilmeni, before turning to Aryon. Strange. That same hidden meaning. Oh well, Ku-vastei figures. I’ll discover it eventually. “And you are, muthsera?”

Aryon extends a soft, gloved hand. “Master Aryon of House Telvanni, oftentime companion to Ku-vastei. Pleased to make your acquaintance, Lady Dren.”

“Oh, dispose of the pleasantries, would you?” Ilmeni smiles warmly, taking Aryon’s hand. “Nobody’s called me ‘Lady’ Dren in years. You can just call me Ilmeni.” She flashes a glance at Ku-vastei. “Or beeko, if it suits you.”

“Not so fast,” says Ku-vastei, returning a wry smile as she leans heavily on the Spear of Bitter Mercy. But hearing the Jel word disarms her slightly. She doesn’t feel the need to be quite so reticent around this particular Hlaalu.

“I understand not all is well in House Telvanni,” Ilmeni observes, taking a careful step back to lean against the wall of the tower.

“Yes. Why I’ve summoned you,” Ku says. “Not only has someone purchased slaves, but someone has been selling them, too.”

“Have you any suspects?”

“The buyer has been identified, and dealt with.”

“Dealt with?” Ilmeni narrows her eyes and crosses her arms. When Ku first met her, she wore commoner’s clothes, but she seems to have elected to dress for the occasion of meeting the head of a House, wearing a spotless blue robe.

“She’s still alive, if that’s what you’re asking,” chimes in Aryon before Ku can react. “She’ll be freeing the slaves soon, if she hasn’t already.” Aryon seems to understand the mystery behind Ilmeni’s attitude whereas Ku-vastei does not. She’ll have to ask him about it if they get a spare moment, away from the Hlaalu.

Ilmeni sighs. “And the sellers?”

“Someone in Tel Aruhn,” Ku-vastei grumbles. “The old slavemistress is dead, as are her compatriots. So we’re not sure.”

“Dead?” Ilmeni asks.

“Yes. I killed them.” Suddenly, it dawns on Ku-vastei, and she smiles wickedly wide, her reptilian face almost snarling. “Is that a problem?”

Ilmeni looks down and shifts awkwardly from foot to foot. “That is the way of the Telvanni,” she says, then, under her breath, “Doesn’t mean I have to like it.”

“It is our way,” Ku says, not hearing quite what Ilmeni said but guessing the meaning, “and we’ll be sticking with it, for now. Just think of it like the Tong.”

Ilmeni looks up glumly. “I still don’t approve of the Camonna, no matter how reformed it may be under our new Grandmaster.”

“I meant the Morag,” says Ku-vastei. “I am Grandmaster of that order, after all. I know about honorable killing.”

Ilmeni gasps. “I thought Eno Hlaalu was Grandmaster?”

“Eno retired.”

Ilmeni steps forward. “Do you mean you -”

“No.” Ku raises a hand to stop the Dren’s advance. “He retired.”

“Oh.”

Aryon pinches the bridge of his nose. This is going to be a long day.

-

They teleport into Wolverine Hall’s courtyard with a crack as the air makes way for their presence. Aryon and Ku stomach it well, but Ilmeni wavers for a moment, then politely asks for a bucket. A nearby guard politely obliges. Aryon and Ku politely ignore her retching.

They walk slowly through Sadrith Mora, Ilmeni gawking at the mushroom homes, and at great Tel Naga. Some of the town’s residents give reverent bows to Ku-vastei, while others hide behind doors. As they pass near the Gateway Inn, they overhear an argument coming from the adjacent marketplace:

“I need these potions now!” exclaims a Dunmer, a mainlander from his lack of the coarse Vvardenfell accent. 

Elegal, a Bosmeri trader Ku-vastei recognizes from her time spent in the city, smiles patiently and plants his hands on his table, his shoulders tightly bunched together. “Sera, I simply do not have any. You should have planned ahead.”

“But…I must have this potion! I have to see Master Neloth!” the Dunmer repeats, gesticulating wildly, exasperated.

“You could try the alchemist. Or apothecary. Or healer.” Elegal steps from behind his table and walks around to his irate customer. “I’ll even show you to one of them, if you’re lost.”

The mainlander quickly steps towards Elegal, shouting louder. “They won’t deal with me! Without your damn ‘Hospitality Papers’ that your Thrice-damned ‘Prefect’ won’t give me!”

Elegal smiles thinly. “Perhaps old Angaredhel doesn’t think you worthy of our hospitality,” he says, looking up at the Dunmer.

“You n’wah!” The Dunmer winds up his arm to sock Elegal in the face -

But something catches his wrist. A scaled hand firmly wraps itself around his cuff, keeping him from landing his blow.

“Oh,” he yells, spinning around, “and who is this animal laying hands on me - Oh.” He stops when he sees Ku-vastei, in her robes of Archmagister station, still holding onto his wrist. “Oh, by the Three.” He sways for a moment before his legs give way and he falls to his knees. “Please forgive me, Archmagister, I had no idea - I never meant to cause any trouble, I just needed to…” He stops his pleading, closes his eyes, and awaits his judgment, his hand still caught by Ku-vastei.

But something is gently placed into it, and his fingers pushed to wrap around it. He opens his teary eyes and looks blurrily up at Ku-vastei. “Archmagister?”

“Rising Force potion. Made it myself,” she says. “Apologize to this man, and then go do your business with Neloth.”

The Dunmer swears by every saint he can remember, thanking Ku-vastei and apologizing profusely to Elegal. Then he awkwardly walks away towards Tel Naga.

Aryon smiles, but Ilmeni wrinkles her face. “Not quite the Archmagister - nor Hortator - I’d heard tales of,” she whispers to him.

“She can be a gracious leader when she wants to be,” Aryon replies. “What kind did you expect?”

“I expect,” she said, quickly finishing her thought before Ku-vastei returns, “that we will find out today.”

-

Ku-vastei, Aryon, and Ilmeni pass through the circular gate at the Gateway Inn and proceed to the docks, where they charter a ship to cross the clear blue waters to Tel Aruhn. When they arrive, they are greeted warmly by Magister Endase Avel and a small entourage of her subjects, come to see the Archmagister of House Telvanni.

“Welcome, muthsera!” exclaims Endase, her yellow, red, and golden robes exquisite in the bright sun of the Zafirbel Bay. “It is a pleasure to have you here at Tel Aruhn, Archmagister Ku-vastei.” She spreads her arms wide with entreaty, then reaches out a hand. “To what do I owe the honor of this visit?”

Ku-vastei says nothing, but glowers at the new Magister. Aryon picks up the slack: “We’re here for an inspection, Endase. To ensure that this tower is complying with the ban.”

Endase smiles. “Yes, yes, of course, Aryon. And you are?” She gestures vaguely towards Ilmeni. 

Ilmeni opens her mouth to speak, but she stops after Ku-vastei shakes her head. So she simply says, “An associate of the Archmagister’s.”

Endase tilts her head curiously, but doesn’t prod further. “Very well.” She points in the direction the former site of the slave market. “I shall lead the way. You may inspect the underground, as well. I assure you everything is very above-board here at Tel Aruhn.”

As soon as Endase turns her back, Ilmeni wrinkles her face and leans in to Ku-vastei’s ear. “Don’t trust her. She’s a snake.”

Ku laughs quietly. “How would you know?”

“Plenty of people like that in House Hlaalu. Not hard to spot if you know what to look for.”

-

The inspection is spotless. No signs of slaver activity, not a single bracer to be found. There are even some Argonians and Khajiit in the honest employ of the tower. Ku-vastei seems satisfied. Aryon wears a patient smile throughout. But Ilmeni keeps her arms loosely crossed the entire time.

When all is said and done, Endase asks, “Could I trouble you with tea? You must be dehydrated after your long journey.”

Ku-vastei almost accepts the offer, but a subtle glance from Aryon persuades her not to. “No thank you,” she replies. “I have other business I must attend to here. Privately,” she quickly adds.

“Of course,” says Endase, whose painted face is marred by a slight frown. “Don’t let me keep you.” Then she casts a spell, and flies to her tower. The crowd disperses somewhat.

Ku-vastei turns towards her companions. “Well?”

Aryon says nothing, and turns towards Ilmeni. She shakes her head. “It must be offsite somewhere.” She looks around, as though she’d be able to see a hidden slave market at a glance. “Ask some of the locals. Especially the beastfolk. They might be more open to answering your questions.”

Ku-vastei’s eyes scan the scattering throng. Tel Aruhn is a diverse place, home to many different peoples, but few beyond tower-servants seem to be beastfolk. But she catches a pair of eyes unmoving, making direct eye-contact. Slitted eyes. She begins to push her way through the bodies, making her way to them.

She finds a smiling Khajiit, tiger-striped and -maned, his arms wide open. “Ah, yes, S’Bakha has been expecting you,” he purrs.

“Expecting me?” Ku-vastei does not yet take up his offer of a hug.

“Well, this one knows exactly what you are here for. It is not difficult to guess. S’Bakha was a slave once, you know. S’Bakha worked hard all the time, and for what? Nothing at all. So now that S’Bakha has dropped his bracer, he rests. He lays around and lounges until his belly rumbles, and then he finds a tasty fish to eat out of these bountiful waters. It is good to be lazy, S’Bakha thinks.” 

(These waters are far from bountiful, Ku-vastei mentally notes, being filled with mostly-inedible slaughterfish, but allows the Khajiit to tell his lie as he sees fit.) 

“That is good to hear,” says Ku-vastei when S’Bakha takes a moment to breathe, smiling. “But please get to the point.”

“Of course, Ku-vastei,” S’Bakha grants, dipping into a brief bow. “The point is that while laying around all day, people forget S’Bakha is there. Or they think him asleep. And they speak as if he is not there. Many secrets they speak, and S’Bakha hears them all.”

“And pray tell, what secret do you have for us,” Aryon asks, “and what will it cost us?”

S’Bakha turns to the newly arrived Aryon, and shakes his head furiously. “Wise you are, elf, to question S’Bakha’s motives. But S’Bakha asks nothing in return for his generous offer of help.”

He pauses for a moment, and Ku-vastei is about to prompt him again when he continues, leaning in to whisper: “S’Bakha’s secret for you is this. They are kept and sold at a place they call Nammu along the mainland coast to the west of here. Tell none S’Bakha sent you, or he will surely be killed.”

Ku-vastei rubs her chin in contemplation, her tail swishing leisurely from side to side, brushing against Aryon and Ilmeni’s ankles. “Oh,” she begins after some time, “I don’t think that will be a problem. Because you’re coming with us.”

“Eh?” S’Bakha spits, his fur pricking up and his own tail setting straight. “You know S’Bakha can’t swim like you Argonians, right? Not even like a dark elf. Not very…smooth.”

“Oh, that won’t be an issue,” Ku-vastei says with a wicked smile.

-

S’Bakha had expected she meant they’d be taking a boat. Instead they walk on the water like sainted thaumaturges, and S’Bakha takes each step tenderly, like each one might fall through the taut surface of the sea. But Ku-vastei and Aryon, confident in their spellwork, stride across like it was a well-worn road. Even Ilmeni has played with water-walking potions in her youth, and is accustomed to the feeling. 

S’Bakha begins to wish he’d kept his mouth shut.

They stop at a couple of islands along the way to renew their spells and rest, taking shade against the midday sun under Emperor Parasols. S’Bakha frets with his tail, at times cradling it like a newborn. 

“Worried, S’Bakha?” asks Ku-vastei, watching him intently.

“Yes, actually,” answers S’Bakha. “S’Bakha imagines it is quite difficult to laze about with his guts scattered around him.”

“You’ll be fine. Everyone who might come after you will be taken care of,” Ku-vastei says, while Ilmeni frowns at this phrasing, “before day’s end.” 

“That is,” Ilmeni adds, “assuming you’ve told us the truth.”

Ku-vastei glances wearily at Ilmeni. “I’m sure he has, of course.” Her eyes glide over to meet S’Bakha’s, who shies away from the contact. “Haven’t you, S’Bakha?”

“Of course,” S’Bakha quavers. But he remains silent the rest of the way.

-

They come to the mainland coast just as their most recent spells wear off, and S’Bakha says, “Here.” 

“Here” is a small pool of water, disconnected from the sea, interspersed with large stones breaking the surface. There is a small cliff on the far side, but its face is sheer. There is no apparent entrance.

“S’Bakha,” Ku-vastei says, “What are we looking for?”

“S’Bakha doesn’t know,” he says. “It should be here.”

“Well, it’s not.” Ku grips her spear tightly in her claws.

Ilmeni stands to the side and looks around. “Hm,” she whispers, and she takes a cautious step towards one of the stones in the pool. Her foot lands firmly on its surface, not sinking at all. So she steps towards the next, and the next, until she finds herself at the cliff face. Ku-vastei is busy arguing with S’Bakha, but Aryon notices Ilmeni’s stunts and places a hand on Ku’s shoulder. She spins around on him, nearly poking him with her spear, but he simply points towards Ilmeni, who is now running her hands along the cliff’s surface, searching for something.

“Is there anything there?” Aryon calls out. “Some button perhaps?”

“Not that I can find,” Ilmeni returns. “But it looks like there should be something here.”

“S’Bakha told you so!” the Khajiit exclaims, earning him a scathing glance from Ku-vastei.

“‘Should’ doesn’t mean that there is, Ilmeni,” Ku notes.

“Perhaps there’s some kind of illusion, or enchantment upon the rocks,” Aryon says. “Endase is a skilled enchantress, after all.”

Ku-vastei tilts her head in acknowledgement, and runs her claws in front of her eyes, leaving behind a pale purple glow which slowly dissipates.

When she can see again, plain as day, she sees a door embedded in the rock.

Ku-vastei treads the stepping stones towards the door, meeting Ilmeni there. She tries the doorknob, but can’t find it. “Yes,” she says, “an enchantment. Not an illusion.” She starts to rummage through her bag.

“Do you have a solution for this in there?” Ilmeni asks. 

“Sometimes,” Ku begins, pulling out various items, “a sloppy enchantment can be undone by a spell similar to soul trapping. I’ve done it once or twice to even the odds in battle against troublesome belts and rings.” Finally she retrieves a soul gem, its azure surface almost completely transparent. “Ah. This should do. You may want to step back.”

Ilmeni complies, stepping out towards the edge of the pool. Ku-vastei first taps the soul gem on the surface of the hidden door, mutters something Daedric, then steps back, soul gem raised in the air; it seems like an incredible effort, like the wall is pulling against her arm. Violet flecks suspended in paler light are ripped from the cliff face and absorbed into the soul gem, revealing piece-by-piece the door hidden beneath, until all is laid bare, and the soul gem glows with a milky lilac light.

“Some enchantress this Endase is,” Ku-vastei snickers.

“So shall we take care of this?” Aryon asks, having crossed himself to the other side of the pool by the door.

“S’Bakha is not going in there,” the Khajiit says, waving his hands in negation. “The leader is a battlemage, called Galmis Dren, who is dark in the craft, and -”

“Galmis?” Ilmeni interrupts. “No, you are not ‘taking care of’ my cousin.” She remembers back to when she heard Orvas was killed by the fledgeling Hortator, and remembers how she imagined what it would be like if it had been her father, instead. 

She steps forward to confront Ku-vastei and repeats, “No, you are not killing Galmis, like you did to his father. You can arrest him, like a civilized person.”

“Your ‘cousin’?” Ku-vastei observes with a smug smile. “Does slavery run in the family, then?”

Ilmeni says nothing, holding her ground as she steps towards Ku-vastei again, only inches between their faces.

 “Ah,” says Aryon. “The late Orvas’ eldest son. A high-ranking member of the Camonna Tong, if memory serves.”

“This killing is the way of your people, Ilmeni,” Ku-vastei says, ignoring Aryon and placing a hand between herself and Ilmeni. “He chose his fate.”

Ilmeni stares furiously into Ku-vastei’s eyes for a long time, but finds no relief. So, her eyes wet from the strain of not blinking, she turns her head away.

“Since you two will be staying behind, we’ll need to make sure you’re well protected,” Ku-vastei says, smiling at her easy victory. “Aryon, your Helper will do the trick.”

Aryon nods and extends his right hand. His glove glows yellow for a moment, and then suddenly, in a cloud of xanthous smoke, a trio of atronachs appear, representing each Daedric element. “Protect Ilmeni and S’Bakha, please,” he asks of the three, who each wordlessly bow to the best of their forms’ ability.

“Do not follow us or try to interfere in any way,” Ku-vastei says as she holds the doorknob, glancing at Ilmeni, “or I’ll kill you too.”

“Ku.” Aryon rests a hand on her shoulder, but she shrugs it off. “Let’s just get going.”

-

The cavern is dark, dimly lit by the rare sight of a torch ensconced on the stone walls. Ku-vastei takes the lead, Aryon following soon behind. 

Not far down the initial corridor, their footsteps bring attention to them. “Hello?” calls a woman’s voice. “Mistress Endase? Here for your inspection so soon? I thought it wasn’t for another…”

The two delvers reach the bottom of a decline, revealing themselves to the Redguard. She yells something in what Ku vaguely recognizes as Yoku and draws her sword. Ku springs forward, launching herself at her attacker. The Redguard slashes at Ku, but only ends up cutting her robes and clattering against the fine Orcish maille hidden beneath. Her jaw drops in shock at this reckless defense, and Ku uses the opportunity to pierce her throat from between her teeth.

There’s another defender, a Dunmer archer on a raised platform to the right, who seems to have been caught off guard practicing her archery on a stuffed target. She yells something in Yoku, her accent poor even to Ku’s untrained ear, and draws her bow, pointing her arrow at Ku-vastei. But Ku-vastei ducks nimbly to the side and avoids the shot. The Dunmer reaches for another arrow, but can’t find one in her quiver. She runs to the target to retrieve more, but Aryon flings a fireball at her before she makes it halfway there. She stumbles, sways backwards, then falls forward against the practice target.

There’s a bridge from the raised platform that connects to another tunnel on the right, but Ku-vastei is more interested in the tunnel directly ahead of them. “Split up?” she asks Aryon. He nods, and begins climbing the stairs to take on the rightward passage.

Ku-vastei plods forward through the tunnel, quickly meeting another defender. He’s unarmored and armed with only a pitiful dagger, and she’s able to dispatch him with a swift thrust from a distance. She continues on before reaching a massive chamber, with a ceiling so high Ku-vastei can’t see it in the darkness. From the center of a small lake rises a massive pillar, wrapped around with stairs towards a platform near the top. 

“Come and get me,” a voice calls out from the spire, “you n’wah!”

Ku-vastei obliges the request, sprinting to the top of the tower. She’s nearly out of breath when she arrives, and sees a man who can only be Galmis Dren, his face obscured by a Dwemer helm. He’s holding a Khajiit slave by the collar over the edge of the platform. He wags his free finger. “Think long and hard about approaching me, n’wah,” he says, and Ku-vastei can hear the wicked smile calling out from beneath the helmet.

Ku-vastei stops in her tracks for a moment, calculating. 

She marches ahead anyway.

“Bad idea,” Galmis tuts, and lets go of the Khajiit, who falls screaming towards the water below.

Then Ku-vastei runs towards Galmis. He begins to cast some spell, but it misses as Ku-vastei runs past him, and leaps from the ledge into the darkness.

She dives, trying to catch up, but sees the terror on the Khajiit’s face as she plummets and falls beneath the surface of the water. Soon after Ku-vastei breaks the surface herself, and beelines her way to the bottom, where the Khajiit’s slave bracer has weighed her down. She wraps her arms around her frail furry body and starts to kick her way up to the surface.

Once she arrives, she swims over to the platform where she first entered the chamber, and lays the Khajiit on her side, letting her cough up water from her lungs. Finally, the Khajiit finds the energy to speak: “Thank you, muthsera.”

“Are you alright?” asks Ku-vastei.

“Yes, this one will be fine,” she says, before coughing up another bit of water.

Satisfied, Ku-vastei runs back up the tower, but does not find Galmis. She takes the short way back down and swims back to the platform where the Khajiit is. By this time, Aryon has arrived, accompanied by a small gaggle of assorted slaves. 

“Aryon,” she begins, her entire body burning from the running and climbing, “Did you see him leave?”

“No,” Aryon says simply, tending to one of the slaves. “But I could have missed him.”

Then they both look at each other as Ku-vastei says, “Ilmeni.”

They run to the exit of Nammu, the slaves barely able to catch up, the Khajiit who nearly drowned supported by a couple of her fellows. But when they finally get outside, they find S’Bakha, the three atronachs, and Ilmeni, who sits against the cliff face with her hands covering her eyes, unscathed.

“Dammit,” Ku-vastei says. “He must have teleported.”

“Where to?” Ilmeni asks, sounding somewhat relieved as she stands up.

“Wolverine Hall, if he Divine Interventioned. Perhaps Vos if Almsivi.”

“Or,” Aryon notes, “he could have Recalled to a preestablished Mark.”

“We’ll never find him,” Ku-vastei says, banging the butt of her spear on the rock below, startling the slaves. She sighs and scratches her chin. “Did you at least find the key?”

“Yes,” says Aryon. “One of the others had it.” He hands it to Ku-vastei. “I think you should do the honors.”

As Ku-vastei begins to unlock each slave’s bracers, she mentions, “I need to speak with Llethym. He needs to explain why the Camonna Tong are bringing slaves to my House.”

“I suspect I should speak with the Grandmaster as well,” Ilmeni adds.

Aryon nods. “I’ll get in contact with your Mouth, Ku-vastei. He can arrange the meeting.”

-

“Fast” Eddie Theman, Ku-vastei’s Mouth, does indeed arrange an audience with Grandmaster Llethym Hlaarothan of House Hlaalu rather swiftly. After dealing with Endase and getting the tear in her robe mended, Ku-vastei meets him at his office in the Hlaalu Canton of Vivec.

She knocks on the door, and is welcomed in. There are two seats arrayed before a grand desk, behind which sits the Grandmaster. He’s a thin mer, who Ku-vastei knows is capable of a lot of second-story work and assorted illegality, as how else could he have reached his position in the House? Perhaps the Duke Vedam Dren thinks him a noble figure, but even nobles can be deceived. Possibly flattered by Bug Musk, or some enchantment, or simple Illusion magic. None of these are beneath Llethym Hlaarothan’s moral standards.

In House Telvanni, you tend to just kill off anyone who gets in your way. And that suits Ku-vastei just fine.

“Welcome, welcome!” bellows Llethym, startling his other guest, already sitting in one of the seats. She turns to see who has arrived, and -

“Ku-vastei!” Ilmeni Dren shouts, her face wrinkling in displeasure as she turns her head back slightly towards Llethym, but never breaking eye-contact with Ku. “This was supposed to be a private meeting, Grandmaster.”

“Nice to see you, too,” Ku-vastei says, smiling. 

“Well,” says Llethym, smiling sheepishly, “I thought I’d knock two racers out with one stone.”

“I’m ever so glad you took our wishes into consideration,” remarked Ku-vastei.

“Plus,” Llethym adds, “I hear you two aren’t on the best of terms.”

“Says who?” say Ilmeni and Ku as one.

Llethym clasps his fingers over his desk. “I’m not one to reveal sources, of course.”

Curse Eddie, thinks Ku-vastei, and Aryon too.

“Listen,” begs Ilmeni, “I don’t think there will be any sort of ‘reconciliation’ between us. She tried to kill my cousin.”

“Ah. Galmis Dren, of course,” Llethym says, stroking his stubbly goatee, his eyes wandering. “Firstborn of Orvas Dren. And of the late Amiliah Dren. A charming woman,” he says, not elaborating.

“A wicked aunt,” Ilmeni mutters. “And a long dead one too, thank the Three.”

“Listen to you,” notes Ku-vastei, “wishing ill upon the dead.”

“At least I’m not a murderer.”

“You of all people should know what it takes to end slavery. Or were you too soft? What did your ‘Twin Lamps’ ever truly accomplish?”

“Much,” Ilmeni says, rising from her chair. “And it’s enough. Nobody had to die for it.”

“Slaves have had to die for it. And it is never enough, not until every slave is free.” Ku-vastei’s fingers twitch at her sides, tempting magic.

“You would start a war over this, like you did before,” says Ilmeni, her voice rising. “You know the Dres would never give in peacefully. And the Indoril would support their rights. It would be Vvardenfell against the mainland, and you won’t stop until any who oppose you are dead. Even after the terrible losses of the Arnesian War, you would do it all again, just to satisfy your bloodlust.”

Yellow sparks begin to apparate at Ku’s fingertips, her claws wreathed in golden flames. Llethym notices where Ilmeni does not, and says, “Now, now. Let’s be civilized here. Enough quarreling.”

Suddenly, there’s a loud crash on the door behind Ku-vastei. Then another, and a shout. Ku-vastei wisely takes a few steps back. Then another bang, and the door comes flying towards Ku-vastei, who catches it impaled on a summoned spear, catching on its kagouti-wings.

Behind that door is Galmis Dren, eschewing his usual robes for full battle armor, his full helm for his indignant face, and his axe for hands full of furious fire. Ku-vastei slides the door off her bound weapon so that she can see. “You again,” she says with a dramatic sigh. But her eyes are alight, and her entire body taut with energy. She jumps forward to strike, but even her conjured Daedric spear can’t penetrate his dense armor, scraping harmlessly to the side. 

Galmis smirks. “You ruined my entire operation, n’wah,” he says, raising his flaming hands for the assault, “and you killed my father. And now, you die.”

Ku-vastei wishes she’d kept the door. She reaches out a hand with a ward, but she’s never been much good at Alteration. It’s a feeble aegis, and as soon as the blaze hits its violet surface, it begins to show cracks. She pours all of her remaining magicka into the shield, but it’s not enough. It explodes into a thousand scintillating shards, and the force of the blast pushes her back onto the floor, unconscious, sending her spear flying across the room.

Galmis steps forward, standing over Ku’s disarmed form, and prepares to land the coup de grace -

“Wait!” Ilmeni cries, reaching out towards Galmis. But to her surprise, Llethym is already up and standing next to him, placing his hand on Galmis’s Dwemeri pauldron.

“Son,” he says, “that’s enough.”

“Who are you calling son, ‘Grandmaster’?” Galmis tries to wedge a hand between him and Llethym, but seems to struggle in the armor. “I have no father. Not anymore.”

“That’s where you’re wrong, Galmis,” says Llethym, his angular face turned unusually soft. “I’m sure you’re aware of the old rumors. That your mother Amiliah wasn’t always faithful to your father.”

“Lies,” Galmis says, still focused intently on Ku-vastei. “Nothing more.”

“They weren’t. You see, long ago, but not long before you were born, I met a charming woman. She didn’t call herself Amiliah Dren, but I knew -”

“Shut up!” Galmis cries. “This isn’t about you.”

“- I knew that she was Orvas Dren’s wife. Our love was brief, yet long enough to -”

Galmis turns towards Llethym’s masterfully paternal visage. “That’s not possible,” he says, his face contorted in rage and grief. “I know who my father is.”

“Did you never wonder why he hated you so? Why he treated you as least among his children, even though you were firstborn?”

Gears turn behind Galmis’s eyes, and his expression softens somewhat. “That’s not…no. I refuse to believe this!”

“Believe it or not,” Llethym says, placing a delicate hand on Galmis’s face, “you are my son. Have you never looked at yourself? How little you favor your ‘father’?”

Ilmeni, so enraptured by the scene playing out before her, notices something minute that few others would have. She notices a gesture behind Llethym’s back, a half-closed hand and then a pointing. Old Hlaalu sign-speak. Her father had taught her as a child. She closes her eyes, contemplating what he was asking her to do. But then she glances at Ku-vastei, lying on the ground unconscious, and knows she has to.

She slowly raises her right hand towards Galmis’s face, and lets loose a gout of bright blue flame.

He screams immediately, pulling back from Llethym and clutching his incinerated face. He starts to cast wildly, blindly, charring the walls and ceiling, but misses Ilmeni and Llethym entirely. His screaming slowly fades into pained croaking as he collapses to the ground, writhing in agony as he chokes on the smoke of his own flesh. Finally, silence falls, and all that remains of his face is a blackened skull, smoldering azure.

Llethym attends to Ku-vastei, helping her to stand as Ilmeni falls to her knees. She feels wetness on her face, and reaches up with her hand to discover her eyes as the source. Llethym explains to a shell-shocked Ku what had just happened, and Ku thanks the two of them for saving her life. But Ilmeni doesn’t reply, staring into the far distance over her shoulder and trying very hard not to look at Galmis.

Llethym approaches her, kneels beside her, and places a hand on her shoulder. “You did the right thing, Ilmeni,” he soothes. “He was going to kill Ku-vastei, and probably you and I, if you didn’t intervene.”

“I didn’t know you knew magic,” Ku-vastei says, keeping her distance.

“My family is blessed by Azura,” Ilmeni says. “Skips a generation. Landed on mine. And his.” She glances towards Galmis, but quickly averts her eyes and looks up at Llethym. “How did you know?”

“I wasn’t lying to Galmis,” Llethym says. “I am the boy’s father. So I know a thing or two about the Drens.”

“Don’t you feel any remorse at all?” she asks, incredulous. “You just had me kill your son.”

“I never knew him as my son,” Llethym says simply. “Why should I have some special attachment to him?”

Ilmeni looks at Ku-vastei, who shrugs. “You’re both the same,” she says, “aren’t you? Or is that kind of callousness just what it takes to lead?”

“In a sense,” Ku answers.

“But we still care for the people we serve,” Llethym adds. “Enough even to kill for them.”

Ilmeni shakes her head, but begins to understand anyway, and wishes she didn’t.

“Ku-vastei,” says Llethym, “if you please. Tell an Ordinator there’s been an incident in my office, and that we have a corpse that needs removing.” Ku-vastei nods and leaves the room. The Grandmaster returns to his seat at his desk, and sips his tea. “Stinks to high-heaven in here.”

[tired-biscuit]

Here's a quick sneak peek of the thing I'm working on, next to the Shikamaru one-shot. 18+ type of content, minors DNI.

---

"Does it feel good, baby?"

Your kisses are as distracting as your hands, which are currently busy roaming Kiba's heaving chest and neck. He can barely concentrate with every loving swipe and caress. The overstimulation is wonderful, but torturous at the same time.

"Yeah." His voice is fragile and shakes like rattling glass as he answers your question finally. Kiba takes a sharp, shuddering breath whenever you ease yourself down onto him; every movement of your bare hips careful, but nevertheless carnal when they meet his own.

You can see his fingers curl around the crisp, white bed sheet. He's gripping it so harshly that his knuckles are turning the exact same colour as the cotton, no matter how tan his golden skin is otherwise. He's clearly overwhelmed; lying on top of your bed like this, watching you bounce on his cock for the first time ever.

Your smile is more of a feline-like sneer than anything else when you look down at your boyfriend's handsome face that's now red as a stop sign and coated in a layer of thick, hot sweat. The sugar to lace your tone is sweet and immensely soothing when you coo, "You wanna cum, Kiba?"

His dark irises are unable to stay fixed on you for longer than two seconds, at best. He's looking at everything and nothing in particular simultaneously, drawing a small, teasing chuckle out of you.

Shit. You're trying not to laugh; to keep it together for his sake, but his pupils are blown wide and are in the size of dinner plates that you keep inside your kitchen cabinet. He looks like he's just seen God. Isn't far from joining him up in the Heavens, either.

And for good reason, too. The surge of heat to wash over his entire body is making Kiba feel incredibly dizzy. Sex feels much warmer than what he'd imagined it'd be like. It's tighter. Slicker.

It's so much better.

"Ye-Yes... No. It's just-... I..." His pink upper lip visibly quivers when you roll your hips against him in response to his indecisiveness. He's trying his best to not squeeze his eyes shut from the sensation and to withhold the orgasm that's threatening to come much too soon for his liking. His heart is climbing up his throat when he grits out, "Fuck...! Christ almighty, babe... Please."

The second tinkling snigger to leave your mouth is as gentle as the sound of wind chimes being brushed by the faintest summer breeze. You just can't help yourself.

But you listen to his plea as you stop your lewd movements for a moment; easing yourself down on him completely and sighing at the pleasant feeling of fullness his cock gives you as it snuggles deep within your drenched warmth. He's so big that the stretch is slightly uncomfortable when you're sitting completely still, but it's nothing you can't endure. For now.

He's whimpering at the pleasure, brow furrowed so intensely that it makes you kiss the small 'v' in-between his dark eyebrows to try and smooth it down. What a joy it is to see him this helpless. Come to think of it, he's been arrogant and self-absorbed for far too long in your relationship. It's time that you wore the big boy pants.

"Not yet, okay?" Your murmur is muffled as you press a kiss onto his salt-coated forehead. His chestnut hair is ruffled and messy, and is literally damp from how much he's sweating. Poor man. "Try to keep it together for me, baby. Yeah?"

"Okay," is all he says, even though he's bucking his hips upward, trying to push even deeper inside of you on instinct, "fucking hell, okay, okay, okay...!"

So eager.