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berlingotesque · 3 months

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What are your ships for Batim? :D

VERY GOOD QUESTION- I know my answer should be rather straightforward but I feel I have to put some context to my answers since they may seem contradictory/paradoxical otherwise, so bear with me-

Sammy x Norman : Well. I think that one was pretty obvious, anyone who's seen more than 3 of my posts knows that I'd die for these two. They're just so PERFECT for each other, from their complementary personalities to the fact that their relationship allows us to delve deeper into batim's historical and social context. Sammy and Norman have one of the few relationships that develop the most during the game's lore : Norman originally complains vehemently about Sammy's frenetic behavior, only to end up lamenting to Buddy and Dot how 'Sammy isn't the same anymore'. What's interesting about this statement is that he says it in relation to Sammy's strange behavior : clearly, the two men have grown close enough for Norman to differentiate Sammy's extravagant habits from his ink-influenced behavior.

Furthermore, Sammy is a very gray character morally, a perfectionist who is extremely socially maladjusted (surely due to the fact that he's coded on the spectrum and autism wasn't properly diagnosed at the time), naturally ostracizing him. For his part, Norman comes from a rural background (which surely earns him the animosity of the people at the studio, given the historical context and the fact that he could very well be poc) and also seems ill at ease socially : to me, it's fascinating to see two characters excluded from their peers because of differences they can't change (being autistic or poc and gay) getting closer to each other, to the point where Sammy, who is deeply misanthropic, naturally compliments Norman by describing him as very bright. To me, Norman is the perfect partner for Sammy : ready to apprehend him as he is, since he's completely free of social conventions, without taking any shits from him.

I think Sammy and Norman can really get the best out of each other, during a historical period when being different was strongly proscribed. I think I'd have trouble enjoying Batim as much without their dynamic at its heart (considering how narratively rich it is) : Norman is Henry's confidant, Sammy is Joey's, both remain morally gray deuteragonists fundamentally opposed to the ink machine, while remaining fascinated by its powers. And who wouldn't love a good old enemies to lovers ending tragically with the unwitting murder of one by the other ? After all, Norman's main flaw is that he's too curious for his own good, and it was Sammy who inevitably led him to his doom..

Allison x Tom : what more can I add. She's everything. He's just Tom. I've always been drawn to characters/ships with a vibe completely opposite to the vibe of the work they originally came from, and the 'turning poison into positivity' energy that Tom and Allison bring to Batim has always fascinated me. In a world as tragic as their own, I find it touching to see these two find beauty in all the ugliness and manage to ask themselves 'what if we were happy after all ?' It's really striking and brings a narrative richness to the work, since they directly mirror what failed with Sammy and Susie : Allison is perfect, but that was never what was at stake in Tom's eyes. Tom was looking for humanity, not perfection, and he managed to go beyond the image of the muse to discover a friend, unlike Sammy with Susie. They're literally Romeo and Juliet but, well... Not dead.

Joey x Henry/Henry x Linda : oh boy. These three... Let me get it straight right away : Henry and Linda are perfect for each other. She's exactly what he needs to be happy : she's present, patient. There's no denying that he loves her immensely. But Joey... oh Joey is undoubtedly Henry's soul mate. The subtlety is that Joey can't bring him the stable happiness Linda can : Joey tugs at him, pushes him over the edge. He knows exactly what to do to push him beyond his own limits. The love Joey offers Henry is an uncomfortable but unconditional one, one that would allow Henry to go beyond what he thinks he's capable of achieving because no one knows Henry better than Joey ! And let's be honest, Batim only exists because Joey refuses to move on, to live his dream without Henry in it. He's stuck in unrequited love and refuses to learn to live with it. And that's the tragedy of this trio : Henry sincerely loves Linda but is truly himself with Joey, which prevents him from hating OR loving him (And Joey exploits this information by remaining extremely toxic and convincing himself that he can wear him down lmao). Henry is stuck with this dilemma : Existing peacefully with Linda or living painfully with Joey. And that's why I love the dynamic of this love triangle : because there are no solutions that will satisfy everyone.

Joey x Sammy : okay, don’t get me wrong : these two are HORRIBLE for each other. Does Sammy periodically want to quit just to piss Joey off? Yes. Isn't Joey's fascination with Sammy intimately tied to his refusal to forget Henry, who was a genius like Sammy? Yes. Nevertheless, it's impossible for me to read The Illusion of Living without feeling embarrassed and like I'm reading Joey's diary : whether you ship them or not, Joey is practically canonically smitten with Sammy. I sincerely don't think Joey and Sammy can sustain a healthy relationship with each other, but oh boy, surely that won't stop me from exploiting their bizarre obsessive love-hate relationship, where it's hard to determine whether they're going to throw hands or make out.

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sneez · 7 months

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corvin

[id: two digital drawings of corvus from the video game paladins. he is a pale-skinned young man wearing a red and black caped coat with the collar pulled up over his mouth, and has brown hair with a white streak. the first image is a portrait of him from the shoulders up alongside a full-body drawing. text beside it reads 'guy who really needs to stim but isnt letting himself so hes just standing about looking intensely uncomfortable'. the second image is a full-body drawing of him holding his pistol and knife in an action pose against a background of scenery from the game. overlayed text reads 'I'M JOINING THE WAR AGAINST AUTISM ON THE SIDE OF THE AUTISM'. end id. ]

#paladins champions of the realm #pcotr #how do i tag him he doesnt have a surname does he. or does he <- guy who doesnt know the lore #paladins corvus #that should do it. im a tagging master #anyway i have been playing more paladins than is good for my health recently and i love this guy a lot #i love For The Greater Good characters especially when they are extremely autism also #it makes me so sad that so many people hate him. i mean i get why but also Hes fun :( and sillay #my entire perspective on him changed once i realised he was autistic (which was almost immediately tbf)#everything made sense. enlightenment #anyway i cant decide if i would recommend paladins because it has kind of ruined my brain and also my sleep #schedule but if any of you already play it/play it in the future im VictorKain over there :-)#can you guess who i main. anyway feel free to friend me (altho i wont know who you are unless you message me first)#i hope you are all doing well my friends! i still have some things to answer im sorry about that i am a slow beaft #i love you all very much. kiss you on head #artwork

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watchmegetobsessed · 2 months

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MAD MAN

A/N: he looked like a snack, his ce vibes were too strong to hold them back

base of the idea was by @harrysblackcoat

WORD COUNT: 1.3k

SUMMARY: You came to the game to forget about the massive fight you had with Harry a few days ago, but your alone time is soon interrupted by the man you've been trying to avoid.

MASTERLIST | SUPPORT ME!

You weren’t planning to come today. Well, you were, until about four days ago, but then the whole ordeal happened with Harry and suddenly you didn’t want to do anything else than stay at home, cry or either sleep until you forget about the shit you both said.

It was nasty. You don’t even remember how it started, maybe it was because he got home too late, or was it because you couldn’t choose a restaurant again and it always drives him crazy.

You have no idea what started it, you only remember how bad it got. Screaming, shouting, saying the worst things you ever did and probably neither of you meant. But you said them and you can’t take them back.

Maybe packing your stuff and leaving wasn’t your best idea, but you needed time and space. Harry has been blowing your phone up ever since, but you feel like you need just a little bit more time away from him to think about… well, the two of you.

You’ve had the ticket for months and you didn’t have the heart to miss out on the game just because of what happened. So you pulled yourself out of your depression cave, aka your old apartment you still haven’t sold since moving in with Harry and came to the game. Now you’re sitting in your usual seat, waiting for it to start while trying your best to keep him out of your thoughts at least until the end.

Looking across the stadium you see the VIP section and immediately, you fail at not thinking about him, because you think of how he is the kind of man that would be standing there, sipping on something fancy and expensive.

Groaning you turn your attention to your drink, playing with the straw, but then you remember the time you explained to Harry why this is your favorite seat in the stadium.

“Okay, enlighten me, baby,” he smirked at you, pulling you to his lap after pushing himself away from his desk.

“It’s close to the exit, I can leave before the crowd gets moving, the toilet is 20 seconds away and the line is always short, because the one by the F stairs is more popular. And…” You peaked at him, checking if he was still listening and there he was, giving you his undivided attention with a cheesy smirk on his handsome face. “And the drinks are better in the buffet that’s behind.”

“Better?” he chuckled. “Baby, they are the same.”

“Nope,” you shook your head. “It’s less… watery.”

“Mm, if you say so,” he smirked and then kissed you, making you forget about what you were talking about just a moment ago.

You need to blink your tears away. You promised yourself you wouldn’t be crying during this game, that you wouldn’t think about how much you miss him and how even despite the fight you love him more than anyone.

You dig into your bag for a tissue, right when someone tries to squeeze past you to their seat. The tall man inches into the row, his long coat brushing your knees while you’re still elbow deep in your bag and you faintly register that he sits beside you.

“Here,” he deep voice speaks up beside you and you know who it is even before his hand moves into your view, holding out a tissue.

“What are you doing here?” you ask, taking the tissue without looking at him.

“Why do people come to football matches?” he asks back and you can’t stop yourself from rolling your eyes. “I’m here because you wouldn’t answer the phone.”

“That might mean that I don’t want to talk to you,” you casually reply, staring ahead of you.

Harry exhales sharply beside you and his knee presses against yours, making you gasp.

“Y/N, I hope you didn’t think I would just let you slip out of my hands like that, right? We need to talk.”

“And you thought a football game would be the best place for that?”

“This seems to be the only way to get you to talk to me, so yeah.”

“How did you even know I would be sitting here?”

“Because you told me this is your favorite seat.”

“I did not. I just told you I have one, I never told you it’s this one.”

You sit in silence for a bit, trying to figure out if maybe you did tell him the exact seat, but you get to the same point: you didn’t.

“I never told you, so how did you know?” you ask and finally look at him. His beauty strikes you, as always, the chiseled jawline, the slope of his nose, the curly lashes, he still takes your breath away.

He runs his tongue across his lips and then looks at you.

“The drink,” he then finally says.

“What?”

“The drink. It really is better here.” You watch him and he continues. “I tried… I tried them all in the stadium and it really is less watery.”

He tried them all. He went around the stadium and tried them all to figure out where you’re sitting.

“Now that you’re listening to me, can we talk?” he then asks with a soft smile. “Or it could be just me speaking, but I really want to tell you what I’ve been thinking about the past few days.”

“Okay,” you breathe out. “Talk then.”

His gaze lingers on your face, as if he is taking in every tiny detail before speaking up again.

“I fucked up, Y/N. I said all those terrible things in the heat of the moment and I regretted them right away. I didn’t mean any of them.”

“Not even when you said that all I do is get on your nerves?” you find yourself asking.

“You do get on my nerves, Y/N,” he says and you’re just about to open your mouth, but he is quick to continue. “You make me go crazy in the best way possible. With your silly dancing in the kitchen, the way you sing every song with the wrong lyrics and swear your version is the right. When you get mad at me for using words you don’t know the meaning of, or when you put me in my place when I’m being a total ass… you make me go crazy… for you.”

Your eyes are tearing up again and when his hand moves to your knee you lean closer to him, wanting more of his touch instantly.

“I love you, Y/N. I never thought I could love someone this much, but you just always prove me wrong,” he chuckles softly and your hand finds his on your leg, your fingers locking together. “Please come back. I’m nothing without you. Come back and get on my nerves every day because I want to be a mad man, but only if it’s you who makes me crazy.”

Now you’re fighting the urge to cry like a baby. You love this man and you can’t imagine a day when you won’t.

“I’m sorry too,” you whisper, tears rolling down your cheeks. He reaches up and wipes them with his thumb. “I didn’t mean it when I said you must be fucking all your assistants at work.”

“That hurt,” he smiles bitterly.

“I just… I still wonder why you chose me,” you admit with a shrug.

“Because you’re the one for me,” he simply answers, as if it was the most obvious thing ever. You take a deep breath and exhale it shakily before leaning in and kissing him. The game starts right when your lips meet, but all the screaming and clapping tunes out as you’re back in the arms of the man you love.

“Do you want to move to the VIP section?” you ask.

“Nope,” he smirks down at you. “This really is the best seat.”

“See? I told you!” chuckling, you just pull him in for another kiss before making yourself comfortable with his arm around your shoulders.

Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed and buy me a coffee if you want to support me!

#harry #styles #harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fanfic #harry styles oneshot #harry styles one shot #harry styles fluff #harry styles x you #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x reader #harry styles blurb

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moon-rivr · 5 months

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cara mia

pairing: miguel o’hara x fem reader

contents: mostly told from miguel’s pov, mentions of religious guilt, somnophilia, soft sex, unprotected p in v, riding somewhat, pregnancy, and a wee bit of angst (muahahah)

author’s note: i did get inspiration from the addams family for this personality wise but i didn’t use the goth elements (sry)

word count: 4k+

Padre nuestro que estás en el cielo, santificado sea tu nombre

The prayer had imprinted itself in Miguel's head after countless hours of being on his knees, forcing himself to pretend that he felt the same type of enlightenment as the other people around him. He envied the people at his church, he wished that he could devote himself and his life to God the same way that they did, but he felt like he was speaking to a brick wall every time he prayed.

The gold cross around his neck felt more like a burden than a symbol of salvation, reminding him of what a failure he'd been to himself and his community. Countless hours of bible study that were supposed to provide him with some hope about humanity, provide him some clarity about his existence and role in the world, only gave him headaches and more questions.

The day that Gabriella was taken away from him, he selfishly prayed in his head that everything would be okay. He knew that it was wrong to pray only when he needed something, but he needed for something to be out of his control for once. "Por favor no te me lleves a mi hija, Diosito. Ella tiene toda su vida por delante. Te lo suplico," he spoke in his mind, hoping that God would listen to him. that he wouldn't lose the only ray of light in his life. (please don’t take my daughter away from me, God. she has her entire life ahead of her. i plead you)

"Please daddy!" Gabriella’s voice clouded his mind as she faded away into nothing, the buildings around them collapsing into pure ash. He cursed God for not listening to him as he fell to the ground on his knees, his head dropped. Silent tears rolled down his cheeks as he looked at his hands, having just the remainder of what was. Peter had rushed to his side, attempting to get him to stand up before the universe faded into nothing but everything inside Miguel hurt. He felt like his limbs were 50 pound weights as he stepped into the portal to go back home, the reminders of his selfishness lingering.

Devotion had never come easy to Miguel, whether it be to an entity or to a thing, but you were the only exception to that rule. He wasn't sure if you'd done it out of sympathy after seeing his weakened state or if you were just simply doing your job as a barista, but you had given him a free bagel with his coffee one day. "I know this probably won't help much, but you look like you need it," you told him once you handed him the small bag and coffee cup.

Miguel didn't answer you, his mouth felt like sandpaper every minute of the day, but he appreciated the small act of kindness you'd shown him. You didn't even have to ask him for his order, making him the cup out of memory. He felt people's stares on him as he walked to one of the tables, their noses scrunching up from his body odor. He hadn't had the energy to come out of his room, but he decided to take the healing journey step by step.

He wasn't sure of when was the last time he took a shower was but he was certain that it must've been a while with the way that everybody scooted their chairs to be further away from him. He brought the cup of coffee to his mouth, taking a sip from it as he tried to will himself to swallow it. The coffee beans tasted like wet mud as they went down his throat, the walls of his throat constricting. He eventually gave up on trying to drink the coffee, placing his head down on the table as he shut his eyes.

The melody in the coffee shop lulled him to sleep after countless hours of staying up, the memories of Gabriella ringing through his head every time he closed his eyes. He wasn't sure of how long he had fallen asleep for, only getting waken up by your soft tapping on his shoulder. "Sorry to interrupt your nap, but we're about to close the shop. You're free to come back tomorrow if you want," you spoke and his head shot up, looking out the window to see that the moon was already peeking out from the clouds.

Miguel stayed quiet, unsure of what to say as he fished something out of his pocket as a way to make it up to you. "No, no. Don't worry about it," you tried to dismiss the bill he was handing you, but he was even more stubborn than you were. You ended up accepting the bill a couple seconds later and he left the coffee shop, feeling like a ship lost at bay. He didn't have anywhere else to call home after he lost Gabriella and his apartment felt too empty. Too quiet. He decided to head back to the HQ, burying his face in work until his exhaustion took place of the pain.

A couple days had passed by when he heard a knock on his office door, Jessica appearing in the doorway. "Miguel, we're worried about you. You haven't exited your office in days and you.. stink. Just take a shower, please," she told him, approaching him the way that one would to a child. The thought of showering just made Miguel want to curl up and burst out crying since the last time he showered was a few moments prior to Gabriella’s last embrace. If he tried hard enough, he could still smell her bubble soap on his clothes.

It took Miguel a while to get into the shower and even longer to scrub his body, his skin raw from how hard he'd tried to make the memories fade away. He sat on the shower floor for a couple minutes with his hands buried in his hands, willing himself not to let his tears combine with the running water. He got up on shaky legs, gripping the shower wall as he let the water run through his reddened skin. His talons unsheathed and he looked down at them, wanting to claw at himself until nothing was left.

Jessica had convinced Miguel to go back to the coffee shop after she saw him fawning over your public file, convincing him to try to have a conversation with you. He showed up to the coffee shop the next day, a complete stranger from the man that showed up just a week beforehand. He'd taken a shower and he fixed his unruly curls a bit, wearing a button down shirt and jeans. As always, you made his order without him needing to say much but he found himself wanting to talk to you this time around.

"Hi, I'm sorry if this is coming off as weird seeing how you found me sleeping on one of the tables earlier and you saw me in that state, but I was wondering if you'd like to go out sometime? I’d like to get to know you better if you gave me the opportunity," he said as he came up to the counter once your shift ended, expecting to be found with rejection. "That sounds good. I'll give you my number and you can text me when it works for you," you responded, scribbling down your number on a napkin.

The encounter between the two of you led to more dates and eventually to the two of you getting married a year later. He found himself completely captured by the way you carried yourself around, willing to give you the world if you asked. He'd be willing to lower down the moon at your request, if only to see the smile on your face. But what he loved the most was the fact that you didn't ask him for the moon, you simply asked for his love in exchange for yours. Loving you felt so simple to him, something as easy as taking a breath.

Miguel glanced over at the clock on the bedside table, letting out a small groan as he looked down at the tent in his sleep pants. He knew he couldn't control himself around you, just having you around made his cock twitch, but he'd never will himself to be too far from you. He glanced back at your sleeping form, seeing the way that your sleep gown bunched up around your thighs. He saw your glistening cunt through the small crack of sunlight peeking through the window, his willpower breaking down.

He spread your legs gently, pushing your nightgown up to your stomach as he pushed his cock in. Your tight walls engulfed him instantly and he had to resist letting out a moan so as to not wake you. Your pussy was practically gushing around his cock as he bottomed out, sucking him deeper. He slowly retracted his cock before pushing it back inside, watching as you stirred in your sleep. His hand came up to your breast, cupping it through the lace material of your gown. He leaned in, sucking your nipple through the material as his tongue rolled over the nub.

His hips rolled slowly as he gripped your thighs for some kind of balance, making sure that you weren't stirring too much in your sleep. While he had a desire to satiate, he'd never be that selfish to wake you up in order to fulfill his needs. "You're all wet for me even in your dreams, corazón," he murmured, his talons drawing small lazy circles on your thighs. He brought his hands up to your front, punching and pulling at your nipples while his cock pushed in and out of you.

"Morning Miguel, did you sleep good?" You asked him, tilting your head to the side to look at him with a small smile on your face. "Cada dia que me despierto siendo tu marido es bueno para mi, cara mia. I'm sorry for waking you up," he responded, his cheeks burning a bit at the prospect of bothering you. God, he'd never be able to get enough of you at this point. Even with the darkened curtains, a slimmer of light managed to peel through as it illuminated your face in an almost angelic halo. (every day that i wake up as your husband is good for me, my darling)

"What's got you all needy, Miguelito?" You inquired, rolling over on top of him as your night gown flowed over your legs. "You, it's always you," he whispered, his hands coming up to your breasts as you slowly sunk onto his cock. You let out a small groan as you felt your wetness dripping onto your thighs and his, the access proving to be much easier. You slowly moved up and down his cock, your tight walls engulfing around him without any remorse. He thought he could die happy like this, engulfed by you and the love combined between you two.

His hips moved upwards, assisting you with the rhythm as he sat up straight, his mouth attaching itself to your neck. You wrapped your arms around his neck as he slowly began to place small bites on your collarbone and shoulders, marking you as his. With every mark that he left on your skin, it felt like he was tattooing yourself into your life. Making himself known even if he wasn't present. The pace between the two of you wasn't rushed or rough, it was simply just enjoying the company of each other and being in each other's arms.

"I've been thinking about getting you pregnant, cara mia. Think about how lovely our kids would be, just a reflection of the devotion I feel for you," he murmured into your skin, his fangs gently grazing against your neck. "Get me pregnant, Miguel. I want everybody to look at us and just see how in love we are," you responded, your walls clenching around his cock just as a security measure. His thrusts got sloppier as he approached his orgasm, his fingers coming down to your clit to help you through yours. His mouth was swirling around your nipples, licking and sucking at the hardened breast while his other hand played with your other one.

Your orgasm approached you rather quickly, your back arching as your breath hitched from the intensity. Your deep breaths filled the room as Miguel's hips moved into you, fucking you through your orgasm and his. He came a couple seconds after you, the tip of his cock pushing the cum into your cervix just to make sure it would take. You rolled over to your side, your arms still wrapped around Miguel's neck as the two of you started to come down from that euphoria. His fingers stroked small circles on your back as his mouth came down to press a kiss on your forehead.

You ended up taking a shower after that, though the two of you didn't like to have sex in there since it could get slippery quick. That didn't stop Miguel from lathering soap all over your body, his hands massaging your breasts, thighs, and the globes of your ass. He gestured for you to jump and you wrapped your legs around his waist as he pinned you to the wall, his lips attacking everywhere he hadn't gotten the chance to earlier.

"I just wanna appreciate you like the work of art you are but you make it so hard when you look at me like that," he told you, leaving a bite on top of your breasts as his eyes locked on you. "Like what?" You looked over at him with doe eyes, your lashes fluttering with the water hitting them. He let out a small chuckle, turning off the water faucet before he carried you out the shower. "Miguel, you're making a mess!" You exclaimed in between little giggles as you held onto him. "Apologies," he offered, wrapping you up in a towel like a burrito without paying much regard to his own dripping stature.

As the two of you got out of your shared shower, LYLA appeared in front of Miguel making him let out a small grumble. "Good morning! You need to be in HQ at approximately ten in order to get all your paperwork done," she announced, her voice chirpy as she spoke. "Tell them I'm dead," he muttered, waving LYLA away as he pressed kisses on your shoulder. "While I would love to do that, you used that excuse about two weeks ago," LYLA responded, her eyes narrowing as she looked at Miguel.

Miguel let out a small scoff as he buried his face into your neck, his large hands splayed on your stomach. "Then tell them I'm spending time with my wife today. You're in charge," he told her, shooing her off for the last time before he gave you the opportunity to finish up getting moisturized. "I wouldn't recommend getting dressed, cariño. You won't be needing clothes today," he told you as you stepped back into the bedroom, beckoning you back into the bed.

The day was spent having lazy sex on almost every corner of the house, determination evident in his features to have his sperm take. He had his way with you on the bed, in front of the mirror that was in the bathroom, the kitchen counter while you two were waiting for lunch, and the couch when you put on a show for some background noise.

"Every time I think I can't love you more, you just prove me wrong," he whispered into your ear as he stroked your back lazily, his softening cock warming up your cunt. The love he felt towards you seemed to practically seep out his pores with the way that he treated you. "Becoming your wife has been one of the greatest experiences ever. Thank you for allowing me to love you, Miguel," you murmured, your hand lazily running through his curls.

A couple of weeks passed by when you came to the realization that you'd missed your period for the last month and the food that normally had you salivating was making you gag at just the mere sight of it. You hadn't been expecting for the sperm to take so easily after your previous doctors had described a problem with your uterus, but you couldn't help but feel excited at the prospect of having a child with Miguel. You stopped by the drugstore near your house, getting a few pregnancy tests just in case.

You practically gulped the bottle of water you'd taken with you to the bathroom, waiting until you felt that urge. It took a couple minutes before you were ready to pee on the tests, and it would take even longer for the results to come out. You washed your hands and looked up at the mirror, picturing yourself swollen with the product of you and Miguel's adoration inside. The timer on your phone made you jump after being in your head for ten minutes, turning it off before you looked at the results. Pregnant.

You decided to go surprise Miguel at HQ since you felt like you were practically bursting out with excitement and you didn't trust yourself to keep it a secret for too long. It took you a while to arrive since it's in the middle of Nueva York and it was lunch hour, but even the stench of the subway couldn't deter your happiness. You were instantly greeted with smiles as you walked into the HQ, most of the members being people you recognized. You took the opportunity to go pet the cat and greet Lego Spider-Man before heading up to Miguel's office.

"¡Hijos de su puta madre! How many shocking times do I have to say that you don't free the anomalies to even out your little basketball team?!" Miguel's voice boomed from his office, clear to your ears outside. You knocked on the door before stepping in, seeing Miguel's demeanor completely change as he looked at you. "Just go, we'll finish this later," he told the group of teenagers and they all scattered away quickly.

You walked up to Miguel, wrapping your arms around his neck as you let out a small chuckle. "You shouldn't be so hard on them, you know? It's not good for your stress levels either," you whispered, kissing his cheek. “I know, mi vida. But they just make it so hard not to get pissed off," he mumbled, resting his head on the crook of your neck. "Well you're gonna have to control that because soon enough, you'll have a little one that needs their daddy for a long time," you responded, dropping the subtle hint and his head shot up immediately.

"You're not messing around with me or anything right?" He asked, his hands around your waist as he looked down at you. You took the ziploc baggie holding the pregnancy test inside, handing it over to him. "Ay mi amor. You don't know how happy it makes me to be able to have a kid with you," he spoke, littering small kisses on your face as he held you close to him. He took a couple minutes to allow for you to enjoy the news before he started going into an overprotective mode, finding the best ob-gyn nearby.

Though Miguel had multiple responsibilities towards the multiverse and to maintaining the safety of the city, he still accompanied you to the first appointment. "You know we'll have plenty of these, so you don't need to come," you told him, but he shook his head as he opened the door for you at the clinic. "I refuse to miss out on anything important, mi amor. The multiverse will hopefully still be intact while I get back," he responded, guiding you towards one of the chairs.

Your eyes drifted to the women sitting in the lobby, some of them distraught with the news of what's growing inside of them while others were crying out of joy. What you couldn't help but notice though, was that most of them were alone as they waited. You'd never felt so appreciative towards Miguel than in this moment and you couldn't help the tears that began coating your eyes.

"What's wrong?" Miguel asked, immediately concerned as he looked at you. "I just feel so lucky being here with you, I'm sorry. It's funny, I got scared when this whole thing happened, since y'know, we have no idea how to be parents but just having you by my side is gonna make this okay," you rambled, wiping away at the tears rolling down your cheeks.

He kissed your forehead as he held your hand, waiting for your name to be called. "Do you want me to come in?" He asked before you nodded, walking with him to the room. He held your hand throughout the whole process while the doctor basically went through some of the dangers you'd possibly be going through with this pregnancy. The baby seemed to be growing fine, though, the size of a raspberry at this stage.

You had quit your job at the coffee shop a little while after getting married to Miguel, so having time to rest wasn't too big of an issue for you. You'd busied yourself with attempting to knit clothes for the baby, your fingers covered with small indents from the needle. "You don't have to do that, you know we have more than enough money to buy baby clothes," he assured you when he saw you crying after a onesie ended up with only one foot sleeve. You eventually got better at it as the time went by, the onesies even having small designs on them.

Though the next nine months hadn't been a walk in the park, they were all the more tolerable having Miguel by your side. He didn't care if you had to wake up at 4 in the morning to satiate your cravings for pickles, even joining you sometimes. He didn't mind carrying you around the house when your ankles felt too swollen to even stand on. He just loved seeing you practically glowing with his love, the pregnancy making you look all the more gorgeous no matter what you said.

The birth was supposed to be an easy process but Miguel could feel that something was wrong as he waited in the lobby with the other expecting fathers. The nurses came over to him, giving him the grim news that you were hemorrhaging but assuring him that they were doing everything in their power. Their words eventually became garbled as a white noise ran through his mind, a pain that he could feel in his soul at the thought of being without you coating his body completely.

Miguel dropped to his knees at the small chapel in the hospital that night, all the different prayers melting into one as he tried to get the words out. His knees were scraped raw as they rubbed against the cold concrete, a well fitting punishment in his opinion for his time apart from the church. He clamped the cross around his neck, holding it as a safe haven before he pressed his hands together, starting with a prayer the best way he knew how.

He started off by thanking God for everything he'd given him, even if he felt like nothing was worth thanking for at the moment. He pushed the feelings of betrayal deep down, knowing that they were completely unprecedented as a non-practicing Catholic. Later, he prayed for you. Not for himself, no. But for you, to get better so you could continue to bless his life with your presence and bless the life of your child together. He continued with this viscous cycle of praying until the sun came up, talking to the plastic cross in a hospital chapel.

The baby was discharged a few days later and while Miguel had everything to take care of it, he felt unprepared. As Miguel held the sleeping baby in his arms, he felt like a part of him was ripped out at your absence. The baby proved as a symbol of his love and devotion for you, though. He tried to be strong for the baby, he really did, but his emotions were starting to bubble up in the bottle he'd stuffed them in. He set the baby down in its crib, looking over at your collection of dresses in the closet as he brought them to his nose, your perfume hitting him instantly. He knew that you were in the hospital recovering, but his heart ached to feel your warmth, laughter, and love again.

The corners of his eyes prickled with salty, warm tears as he cut away the petals from the roses you'd ordered just a week ago. His nose was running from his allergies, but he refused to ask for help with such a mundane task. He refused to let your presence from the home fade out, taking care of everything you would've done along with his own responsibilities. He sat down on the edge of the bed, starting to comply with what he'd told God while he was in the hospital. That he'd start praying again as long as you were okay. He’d be willing to put himself through the process of talking to what he deemed as a wall just for you.

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l1tw1ck · 6 months

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finding out miguel's secret~

sub!bottom!ftm miguel x dom!top!spider!amab reader

cw: afab language, masturbating, daddy kink, voyeurism

You quietly enter Miguel's office after knocking a few times with no answer. The door was cracked open so you thought it'd be okay to enter without permission. That, or he's in some sort of trouble. You hop onto the ceiling and quietly crawl around the office, looking for him and any possible assailants. As you're searching, you can hear faint noises coming from Miguel's private break room. He doesn't take breaks with the rest of the spiders, who could blame him though. You crawl down the wall and press your ear against the door.

"Uh~" A moan. "It's all in, Daddy~"

Your cheeks rise in temperature. What's going on in there?

"Please– please call me a good boy..."

"Good boy."

Another moan.

That sounds an awful lot like your voice.

You slowly open the door and peak through the crack. It's Miguel sitting on a bed. He's naked and has a dildo inside him. And then...there's....a hologram? A hologram of you? It's watching him masturbate. You feel bad that he has to do this in front of a soulless digital copy of you.

You open the door all the way, startling Miguel. He looks at you in fear.

"I- I can explain-" He quickly covers himself with his hands.

"Please, enlighten me." You smirk, closing the door behind you. You walk over to him and move his hands away. You grab the base of the dildo and slowly thrust it in and out of him.

"I um- I gave Lyla a....a new skin...to mimic you-" He bites his lip, feeling even more pleasure just from having you in his presence.

"You're that shy? Couldn't even ask me out first?" You chuckle. "You don't deserve to be called a good boy."

Miguel blushes in embarrassment and arousal.

"But you know what you can do to earn it?"

Miguel shakes his head.

"Use your words, darling."

"What?" His voice is trembling. You didn't think you'd ever hear him sound like this.

"Show Daddy how you use your little toy." You let go of the dildo and step back.

Miguel bites down on his lip and slowly fucks himself with the toy, staring at you in the eyes as he does so. He's had lots of practice with Lyla. Speaking of which, she's already left the room. But the real thing is much different. The look in your eye is real, and it's hungry. His eyes trail down to your crotch. He wonders if you've masturbated to him too. His mind starts to wander as he starts to imagine that. Would you use toys too? Do you have a fleshlight that you imagine is him? He twitches at the thought of you roughly rutting into a pocket pussy while thinking of him. He hopes he'll be replacing it.

You decide to give him what he so clearly wants to see. You pull down your pants and then your boxers. Miguel immediately snaps out of it when he sees your cock. He swears in Spanish, you're bigger than he anticipated. He stares at it as you slowly stroke it, precum dribbling out of your slit. He speeds up the pace, roughly fucking himself with his dildo. He wishes he could suck you off.

"You're drooling, Miguel." You chuckle. "You want this?"

He nods rapidly. "I want it, Daddy– I want it in my mouth and- and in my pussy~" He's breathing heavily. "Please- please-" He gasps, squirting.

"Good boy."

#wicks🕯️shorts #top male reader #male reader #bottom miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x male reader #miguel smut #miguel o'hara smut #sub miguel o'hara #🕯️miguel o'hara #🕯️spider man

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screeching-bunny · 9 months

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may i request a yandere god/angel? The idea of something so pure..the one thing you have faith in is actually the thinkg keeping u trapped in their obsession bubble is so appealing to me. having no hope left anymore. just them <3

Yandere! God Hcs

Warnings: Obsessive Behavior, Yandere Thoughts, Bad Writing, Stalking, Possessive Behavior, Reader is Referred as ‘You’

🌟 Yandere! God embodies profound wisdom and possesses knowledge beyond mortal comprehension. They have a mysterious aura and speak in riddles, often challenging his followers to seek enlightenment and often confusing the hell out of them. He’s very unpredictable and playful. He finds joy in playful interactions and enjoys surprising their followers with unexpected twists while they worship him. He lives for drama and will one hundred percent mislead his followers.

🌟 Yandere! God is starstruck when he first sees you. He can’t believe that such a cutie is worshiping him and is such a devoted follower. Any prayer that you wish for, he immediately tries to make it become a reality. Since he’s an all powerful god, you can best believe that he will misuse his powers when it comes to you. What’s this? You met a cute guy at work and flirted with him? Well too bad he got struck by lightning five times and died on the spot. Truly unfortunately. He’ll do his best to isolate you from your friends and family. You’ll be so lost that the only thing you can do is just pray to him whenever you can. The thought of this has him kicking his feet up in the air and twirling his hair.

🌟 Yandere! God plans out exactly how and when you guys will finally meet in person. After watching you for many hours he wants this moment to be as perfect as possible. He makes sure to be as dramatic and extra as possible, revealing himself in a very flashy way. Some lightning here and there and some cool looking smoke for his entrance. One day your just praying to him and poof he’s out in front of you.

“WHAT THE— WHO ARE YOU?!?”

“Some people want to meet me, some people don’t believe me, and some people claim to be me. I am…?”

“OH MY GOSH YOU’RE BATMAN?!?!”

“Yes it is— WAIT NO!!!”

🌟 Yandere! God eventually stops speaking in riddles around you because of your inability to get the correct answer. It’s just the only way that he can communicate with you properly and have you understand what he’s saying. Don’t worry though he still loves you nonetheless even if you are a total airhead. He will, however, personally tutor you if it ever really comes down to it. He still speaks in riddles to everyone else but you.

🌟 Yandere! God enjoys watching you pray to him. You view him as someone to look up to and ask about life questions. He makes sure to manipulate you by giving you advice that causes you to become a social outcast to the rest of the world. Who needs friends or a lover when you have him? Whenever his servants hear him say these things to you they just side eye him. They don’t try to do anything about it though because there’s no stopping him when it comes to love.

🌟 Yandere! God uses his followers as entertainment. They’re like his own personal reality tv show that he can control whenever he wants. He loves dropping random things on them and watching them freak out about it. Do you remember the time when a bunch of archeologists dug up an ancient rock with diamonds around it? Yeah, that was his badly made art craft that he threw away years ago. Do you also remember that hurricane that nearly destroyed a country a few months ago? Yeah that was also him, he just accidentally sneezed in the wrong direction that day. His followers believe that anything he does has a meaning behind it. Those natural disasters that have been happening recently must be a test from him. When in reality it was just you messing around with the weather because you we bored.

🌟 Yandere! God would make a new flower and name it after you. His love for you is infinite and would like to spend all of eternity with you. When you first met him you thought that he was supposed to be a generous and pure being. It was because of this thought that you never really saw his advances towards you as romantic. You just brushed these thoughts off and thought you were crazy for even thinking this was. When he found out what you were thinking he nearly ripped his hair off.

🌟 Yandere! God uses the idea of enlightenment to forever trap you by his side. Ditch all the people that you once knew and live with him. This is the only way for you to reach your full potential. People are just vial and disgusting so just jump right into his arms. He’s honestly so good a gaslighting that you don’t even question him and just do exactly what he says. To him it’s almost comical but he couldn’t be prouder of you. If you ever tried to gaslight him it wouldn’t work. I mean you can’t out gaslight the original gaslighter. He was literally the blueprint.

🌟 Yandere! God is terrible at cooking. This is understandable because he is a god and doesn’t need to consume food in order to survive. You, however, do need it. He tries his best to cook food for you but whenever you eat his food you always get food poisoning and need to run to the toilet. He always looks so proud when handing you the dishes that he made that you don’t have the heart to tell him that you don’t want it. So you usually just suck it up and shove it right down your throat.

🌟 Yandere! God is aware that you are a mortal and will one day die. So he tries various ways to make you immortal whether you like it or not. The thought of you dying just pains him and he’d do anything to prevent it from happening. He would destroy and sacrifice the entire universe if it meant that you’d be safe with him. Being with him is so suffocating. He’s like a clingy dog that always bites for attention. There is honestly no quiet moment where you get to be alone in your own thoughts because he is always watching you.

#yandere #yandere headcanons #yandere imagines #yandere x y/n #yandere x you #yandere scenarios #yandere x darling #yandere x reader #male yandere #yandere oc #gn reader #yandere god

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infiniteko · 6 months

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You are the only person so far who seems to know what you’re talking and is well studied so I decided to sent this ask for you. It will have a little venting, but nothing too extreme or long also if you don’t mind I’d rather speak in a not non duality way because I wouldn’t know how to formulate my sentences without giving power to the physical world in a sense, and I’m not exactly looking for enlightenment in non dualism it’s just a question about this whole thing that has been going on on tumblr and other communities about manifestation and non dualism.

I’ve been on this journey of manifestation, law of assumption, non duality etc etc for a year now and the main thing that kept popping up in my head was “is this concept true?”

The concept that I’m talking about is: “we are the creators of our reality”

Honestly, this journey has brought me a lot of suffer because I’m a natural overthinker, skeptical, a tad pessimistic and extremely self judging. So I would often feel dumb and stupid for believing I could actually change my WHOLE life and manifest things that would be seem as actually absurd and impossible.

This experience of seeing so many times people saying “we are limitless” or “everything is malleable” “you can get anything you want” has dragged me into this rabbit whole of full peace of mind and hope and then being totally ripped apart by negativity, pessimism and skepticism.

I’m honestly tired and I really, really, really need to get out of it, so you are my hope of weather I should continue my journey to get a better life or finally have a closure on this whole world of manifestation, shifting realities etc

Is it really possible? I’m asking this with my whole heart and soul. It is possible to experience this reality shiftings, changes of physical appearance, revise past and all that?

I really need to put an end on my suffering and move on with my life and I rather know the final answer now instead of wasting my life on things that won’t happen and just end up more frustrated in the future.

Can we change our 3D world (I know you said there’s no separation, but as I said I can’t speak in a non duality way I’m sorry) or we just have to accept we can only control to a certain point?

Is it true that if I’m not meant to be rich no matter what I do, I won’t? That no matter how hard I try I could never “attract” a specific person? Is it true that the only thing I can do in this life is find peace by accepting that certain things are meant to be and never changed? Is accepting that I am not limitless like as all those bloggers, teachers, Neville Goddard claimed I am?

I’m sorry if this ask is heavy or if my words were harsh somehow. I don’t want to put a responsibility on your shoulder, I just really need to find peace and I need a final answer.

Thank you!

Here's the thing Anon: No one can help you but yourself. As harsh as it sounds, IT is what IT is, i'm not sugarcoating anything, it's a bit long and wordy so read carefully.👁️📿

In tibet we have these sayings:

1. ཝ་གསུང་ཞོད་དུ་གཅིག་སྤྱོད་དུ། "You can offer a handful of grass to the cow, but you can't force it to graze."

2. མཐུད་སུམ་བསྡུས་ཀྱི་སེང་གེ་མ་དམ་ཅོ། "You can present the scriptures, but you can't enlighten the mind."

Even though i tag my stuff with "#nondualism" and a lot of people associate me with it, i don't follow any concept in particular. I only point you into the direction of "THAT". What you do with it, is your choice. You said you've been on a "journey" with lots of concepts like LoA, Manifestation, ND. Ask yourself, what exactly has been keeping you from actually turning within into silence instead of gathering one concept after another? Who decides that something is "impossible" and "absurd" like you said? I know you already told me that you'll talk in concepts but i still have to ask, are the limitations you have set for yourself REALLY fundamentally a thing? Do they exist if you aren't aware of such limitations?

Emptiness

NO concept is true, untrue or real. No words are true, untrue or real. I could tell you "no, Non Dualism or "AWARENESS" is not true. You can't change your life" but that's going to have a negative impact on you, wouldn't it? Why is that so? Those words don't prove anything to you. They are just words.

EVERY word is empty by nature, we give meaning to them. If i told you "བདག དངབ བསམ ངས་ཡང་ཡིན་གསལ" could you do anything with that sentence? No, because that sentence has no meaning to you.. you don't speak the language. Whatever I said, is meaningless to you. But if I translated it in english, you would be able to understand because you speak english and give it meaning (-> what was once meaningless and empty, now has an illusory meaning given by you). Got it?

What I'm trying to say is that it is important to understand that words have no meaning whatsoever BY NATURE and because they are meaningless BY NATURE, we can tell you whatever we want to, it is up to you alone what you're going to do with that. Does that make any sense to you? I hope i got my point across on how we give meanings to every empty word.

We do the same thing with different situations.

A stormy day can be the worst day ever for you but for someone else, it's the best thing ever.

If someone told me my content is trash, i do not care. If someone told 18 year old Koda her content is trash, i would've wasted a thought or two on that statement. If Dechen (my boyfriend, co-admin) read that we're spreading lies he would've written an essay telling that person to shut up & move along 2 years ago, but now he'd ignore it because he couldn't care any less. Now, everything is meaningless for everyone. I can decide if I want to be affected by those words, or not. If i told you "Everything's a lie" , what are you going to do then? Are you going to abandon everything just because I, someone you find "reliable", said so? If that's what you would do, why? What made you attach so much importance to a random "person"?

Is it true?

"Is it true that [...]"

Who are you asking? Me? Why? Do you want it to be true or untrue? Since all words are meaningless and empty by nature, is there a difference between the words "true and untrue" or is it the same "Emptiness"? You alone make your decisions. I can point you towards "IT" but 'you' are the one who's going to recognize "IT" or not. I have nothing to do with that descision.

Read whatever you want to. Practise whatever you want to or don't. At the end of the day, you alone give meaning to the meaningless. You can define emptiness but that doesn't change its Nature which is "emptiness", "nothingness" whatever-ness.

Definitions

"I'm an overthinker, skeptical and pessimistic."

What made you come to that conclusion? In order to answer that, i assume you have to think and list all moments in which you were overthinking, skeptical and pessimistic but are you able to answer that question without thinking? If you aren't thinking, WHAT or WHO are you? Are those thoughts you define yourself by, real in any way or are you just aware of different behaviors and define them as "overthinking, skepticism, pessimism" after thinking about it? Could you define yourself for me, without thinking? Try it.👀

Enlightenment?

You said you are not "looking for enlightenment" from ND , what exactly are you looking for then? Only a "person" can get enlightened, but there is no actual "person" here. What is, is. All concepts only POINT you to one direction -> "IT". Some, like advaita vedanta, are more direct than many limited & watered down versions of ND people now call "Law of Consciousness or Law of Assumption "with extra steps" on tumblr or twitter. In my humble and illusory opinion, it is nonsense but does it matter?👁️

The non-existent "I"

"Is it true that if I'm not meant to be rich no matter what I do, I won't? That no matter how hard I try I could never "attract" a specific person? Is it true that the only thing I can do in this life is find peace by accepting that certain things are meant to be and never changed? Is accepting that I am not limitless like as all those bloggers, teachers, Neville Goddard claimed I am?" -> define and show me the "i" you keep talking about. Do it without thinking. If you ponder on it long enough on a deep level, you will instantly answer your own Questions and the "i" you are talking about. Define and show me your doubts without thinking. There is no person to believe in anything, no person that is actually doubting, no person that is actually here.

「You can mold clay into a pot but that doesn't change the fact that it is clay and will always be clay」

#advaita vedanta #awareness #nondualism #nonduality #nothingness #enlightenment #void #brahman

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moneypowerglorymiddleofmiami · 2 months

Text

To Vex A Viscount (of seas and torment entry)

based on this ask ♡

— regency era au

summary: simply nothing more could be required of a perfect evening when invited to a masquerade with the pleasure of vexing an easily irritable viscount.

pairing: luke castellan x daughter of poseidon!reader

warnings: none (though please do feel free to inform me if you find any!)

of seas and torment, make do (of seas and torment entry)

⚔°⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

You thank the gods for the salvation the mask wrapped around your face offers you. It will not do well if the other gossip-mongers see your distaste for the evening's festivities; they'd call you insolent, and you simply couldn't have that if you wished to find a husband.

Truly, you'd prefer readying yourself for a long night of restful slumber than being forced to simper and be delightful in the presence of the ton.

"Lady Jackson." You turn at the sound of your name, the voice all too familiar for you to mistake his identity even with the elaborate mask of golden feathers hiding his features.

"Lord Castellan." You acknowledge the viscount with a pleasant tone, though you were well-aware that the niceties shared between the both of you were merely for show. "Good evening."

"I wasn't expecting your presence tonight." Luke continues, speaking as he moves to stand closer to you. You take a deliberate step away from him, weary of anyone who might get the wrong idea.

"Neither was I." You answer truthfully. "But my mama and brother insisted on our attendance."

He looks down at you in amusement. "I do hope the soiree is to your liking."

"Of course." You nod, taking a sip from the beverage cradled in between your gloved fingers. "Lady Castellan always throws such magnificent balls."

You look for his mother amidst the crowds, her grin wide and welcoming as she conversed with your own.

Luke hums. "It was my idea to make it a masquerade. I hear it's quite fashionable in Italy."

"Ah, that must explain its banality." You twist your mouth. It was definitely a rude response, but Luke, at least once in the years you've known him, has never been offended by your brazen remarks. He took all of them in good humor.

He snorts. "I think it's rather romantic."

"And what do you know of romance, my lord?" You turn to him, eyes glinting in the candlelight as you begin to tease him. "Do enlighten me. You seem to be quite well-versed on the topic now that you've returned from your travels. I assume the continent must have been good to the matters of your heart."

He glances down at you from his peripheral. "It was. Very much, actually."

You raise an eyebrow, an invitation (or provocation) for him to speak more. He doesn't elaborate further.

You turn your attention elsewhere instead, watching as several young ladies are led onto the dance floor by the gentleman. The first few notes of a quadrille hum through the air.

"May I write my name on your dance card?" He asks after a moment, his eyes intently looking at the paper that dangled from a ribbon around your wrist.

You looked up at him, eyes wide in surprise. "Me?"

"Surely, you will not have me dance with Percy?" He responds with pursed lips. His hand rises to pinch your card in between his fingers. He raises his brow for confirmation.

Your eyes narrow instantly. Your tone is near accusatory when you voice your confusion. "Why, may I ask, should you wish to dance with me?"

"Must I need a reason to?" He counters.

"Seeing as we've been at each other's throats throughout the entire season, I would assume so, yes." You nod your head. He was acting out of sorts, and it was terribly bothersome. Ever since he returned from abroad, there has been an evident shift in his attitude, more so in his treatment of you. "I believe I am owed an explanation."

You clear your throat, adding: "Perhaps you've taken a sip too many of your whiskey."

"Shall I breathe in your face to prove my sobriety?" Luke remarks dryly. "Indulge me for old times' sake. We learned to dance together, after all."

Memories of a sweltering july tucked in your family's country home came in a vague recollection— guests invited over to stay for a short retreat, taking daily swims in the bay, relaxing underneath a canopy of trees, munching on more sweets tinted blue than you could ever consume again, and a disgruntled gentleman teaching (or at least attempting to) you and Luke the beginning sequences of a routine.

He stands with an arm against his hip, his gaze neutral but his fidgeting made you aware of his impatience. You squinted your eyes as if in thought, aiming to irk him further.

"Vexing woman," He mutters underneath his breath as he grabs the drinking glass from your hold and gingerly places it on top of a cabinet. He takes your hand in his and leads you to the dancefloor just as a waltz is announced.

"Another gentleman's name could have been written on my card." You chastise him. He stretches your clasped hands to the side, his other hand moving to rest at your waist. Though you've not danced with him in a long time, your other hand immediately lays on his shoulder. Both of your feet move in tandem, limbs moving gracefully without much thought.

"I highly doubt it. You've been keeping to yourself the entire evening." He sniffs to dismiss your point. "I must admit, I found it difficult to discern where you ended and the wallpaper began."

You step on his foot. He groans. You smile.

He guides you through practiced circles around the dance floor, never missing a step or beat. His eyes bore into yours, a deep brown that reminded you of chocolate ganache and dancing flames, of warm summers and breezy evenings, of playful goading and a mutual respect, of innocence and an imperciptible heat you've not paid any mind too up until his return.

"You look very lovely." He says abruptly, soft like a whisper; almost as if he had no intention of speaking the thought aloud.

"What?" You reply in disbelief.

"Unfortunate that such a pretty face should belong to a woman with such faulty hearing." He sighs mockingly, murmuring under his breath but loud enough for you to hear. You attempt to step on his foot again, but he moves just in time with an omniscient grin. He repeats his words with more clarity. "I said you look very lovely."

"I..." You struggle for a response. You avert your gaze, blushing. "Thank you."

The music slowly comes to an end and as you separate to bow, he seizes your hand once more. He places a gentle kiss on the back of your glove before turning your palm. His eyes lock on yours as he bends down to kiss your wrist, his lips meeting your pulse. You feel your heartbeat become more erratic with each moment his gaze lingers.

"Well done, sister." Percy claps his hands from behind you. Luke stands straighter, though his lotions are more fluid. "This is the first time I've seen you dance without tripping on your own feet."

"Oh, shut up." You huff, pushing him back into the crowd. Luke follows behind you with a chuckle, his fingers dancing with the ribbon dangling at the back of your frock.

taglist: @ryujinraven (SORRY POOKIE IT SLIPPED MY MIND)

#luke castellan x you #luke castellan imagine #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan #percy pjo #pjo tv show #percy series #percy jackon and the olympians #percy jackson

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twoidiotwriters1 · 6 months

Text

I’ve learned something new (Monkey D. Luffy x Fem!reader)

A/N: I'm so excited for this One Piece era.

Words: 746

At this point, it becomes a special tradition for y/n and Luffy to always search for something to share. When the Sunny arrives at a new island, they have to find something new to share with the other one.

A new fruit, plant, color, secret paths, traditions, words, games, jewels, a new handshake, rocks, bugs (Luffy’s favorite), etc.

One day, she’s already on board at the Sunny, waiting for him.

“Y/N! Y/N!” She smiles recognizing the voice.

She turns around at the same time Luffy lands in front of her. They both smile at each other.

“Yes, Captain?” she asks making him giggle.

“Guess what?” he answers.

“What?” she follows the same dialogue they always use.

“I’ve learned something new!”

She laughs at her enthusiastic captain.

“What is it Lu—” she gets interrupted by Luffy’s lips against hers. Her eyes stay open in shock for the few seconds the kiss lasts.

Luffy ends the kiss, and he looks at her with a big, pleased smile.

“What? Why? When? What?” Y/N stutters. Luffy chuckles. “You- you kissed me.”

“Yep!”

“Why?” She frowns confused at Luffy’s reaction to the kiss.

She knows him, they have been close since she joined the crew, and maybe, just maybe, she had a small, tiny crush on him, but being his friend, she could read how he processes many things, and relationships are something complicated to know for sure whether he gets them.

He knows the meaning of friendship, nakama, and family, yes. But boyfriend, girlfriend, and all of that, she’s not sure.

“I’ve learned something new at the island,” he points out.

“You learned how to kiss?”

“No,” he sings. “I found some nice people with Sanji and Nami. And they told us that, if you love someone, you must kiss them, so,” he chuckles, “I did it.”

She stays in silence for a moment trying to figure out if he’s joking, or what. But Luffy’s innocent and excited smile confuses her.

“I- I think you misunderstood them, Lu.”

“Uh?” he tilts his head. “But, Nami said- wait,” he pouts. “You didn’t like the kiss?”

Her heart jumps on her chest and her face blushes hard.

“No- I mean yes. It- it’s not that,” she stutters confusing Luffy, as he keeps looking at her with his puppy eyes. She sighs. “Listen, what they mean… is for uh- a romantic partner? Like a boyfriend and girlfriend. It’s when you want someone more than a friend or a crewmate or nakama.”

“Could someone be more than my nakama?” He asks surprised.

She sighs again.

“It’s different, Luffy. You must feel different for that person.”

He keeps thinking her words while she’s having a mental debate, wondering if he had kissed her as a mistake or…

She waits but Luffy gets distracted by something else, and he steps away. She lowers her shoulders in disappointment. Y/N wants to walk away and cry about how stupid she was, but Luffy’s hand wraps around her wrist and stops her. She turns to him.

“No, wait, I was thinking something,” he adds with a frown.

“It doesn’t matter, it’s okay.”

“Nami and Sanji scolded me today,” he remembers. “’Cuz I said I wanted to kiss you, but then they explained to me like you just did and I-” he returns to his enlightened smile, “Sanji said that I could kiss you whenever I want to if you’re my girlfriend —or something like that—and that sounds amazing! So, will you be my girlfriend?”

She looks at him surprised as he waits with a smile. He kind of understands what she said before, and now that he has Sanji, Nami, and Y/N’s information, he just takes whatever he likes about it.

“Luffy...” she blushes.

“I like the idea of being more than Nakamas, and I want to kiss you every day and hug you and be with you. And it’s different than the others… I don’t want to kiss Usopp, ew!” She chuckles at his disgusted face. “Do you want to kiss me too?” He asks with hope in his eyes.

All the anxiety disappears, and she doesn’t want to think about anything but Luffy… or his kisses.

“Yeah,” she answers shyly.

He screams and laughs with joy as he wraps his arms many times around her waist to pull her closer to his chest.

They kiss again.

“Your lips are soft, I like them!” He informs. She giggles.

“And I like you, Captain.”

#one piece #twoidiots writing #one shot #monkey d. luffy #monkey d luffy x reader #one piece x reader #one piece x y/n #one piece x you #one piece luffy #straw hat luffy #monkey d luffy #strawhat pirates

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djmorn · 4 months

Text

The Devil You Share a Room With

A/N: This is a shameless presentation of my weakness for bathing scenarios. Includes water sex and all the sloppy joys that come with it.

Alternative title: Bed Bath & Beyond

Summary: Tav got separated from her group in the chaos of the Shadow-cursed Lands. Pressing forward by her lonesome she comes upon Last Light Inn where she hopes to either reunite with her companions or take shelter for the night in one of the rooms. She finds neither, for the last offered lodging has just been taken up by a gentleman of the infernal persuasion. But Raphael is ever willing to strike a bargain.

Among the inn’s guests Tav found not a trace of her friends. Shame. She would have to continue her search on the morrow or await the party’s arrival at Last Light. The latter was probably the wiser option, so why not use the opportunity to take comfort in the tavern’s warmth and a welcome change to her lonely journey?

She approached the proprietor, standing behind a desk and polishing a cup. To her asking for a room Jaheira shook her head. ‘Sorry, all’s full up. We don’t offer much lodging to begin with. One of the rooms is reserved for Isobel, so she can work her magic over this area in peace, and the other one has just been taken up by a gentleman who also arrived here by his lonesome. The best I can offer is a straw bed in the stables.’

Tav was not relishing the thought of sleeping outside, stable or not. The prospect of making camp without the safety of her allies amidst the fog and shadows did not sit well with her. At her troubled face Jaheira offered another solution: ‘Or you could try and talk with the gentleman I mentioned.’ She regarded her from head to toe. ‘A pretty young thing like you asking all nice, who knows? Maybe he will give it up to you. He certainly seems the type.’

Jaheira had pointed her in the direction of the man in question and Tav approached the secluded corner of the inn, but immediately lost all hope once she saw who it was.

‘And whatever would you need a room in this place for?’ she asked, crossing her arms in confrontation.

Raphael looked up at her, visibly amused. ‘Ah, my favourite future client! How good it is to see you, and to walk into my arms without any of your annoying little friends as well. This must be my lucky day.’

Tav only glared at the devil who sat in front of a game of lanceboard, no one to play with in sight. She was still waiting for him to answer her question.

‘Surely you’d understand,’ he said. ‘I’m in as much need of a place to stay and rest my weary bones as you are.’

‘Then why don’t you just snap your fingers and return to your domain?’

Amusement danced around his eyes and lips. ‘I’m on a holiday.’ At her silent disregard of his little quip he continued: ‘The area is full of rich history and plenty of opportunity. In fact it has put me in good enough a mood to reconsider my claim to a room in this charming and cozy retreat of the unfortunate souls wandering about.’

Raphael gestured towards the chair across from him and Tav took seat.

‘Play with me,’ he said. ‘Beat me at a game of lanceboard – fair and truly, and you shall have the place.’

She raised an eyebrow at him. ‘So we are gambling over a room which you don’t actually need? Can’t I just buy it from you?’

‘Oh, come on now. Where would be the fun in that?’

‘Fine.’

The devil ordered drinks for the both of them and they started playing.

Tav looked over the miniature battlefield, at her figures, and then at Raphael’s. She sighed. ‘Well, I guess there goes my hope for a night spent under a roof… Apart from the one in the stables that is. Congratulations, Raphael.’

‘Ah, fear not, my dear. Not many can say to have come so close in beating a devil at lanceboard and besides, I’ve only got a good thousand years of practice to boot.’

‘Then thank you for the enlightening experience,’ she said and finished her drink. ‘I’ll walk the mile of shame towards the cattle.’

‘Not so hasty, little mouse. Not so hasty. There’s still a consolation price for the brave heroine to be had.’ ‘Which is?’

‘Let’s just say I’m willing to accommodate to the humble condition this estate offers and have an inclination to… share my lodging with you.’

He stretched one of his long legs and lightly brushed hers, seemingly by accident. Tav huffed in astonishment. ‘Absolutely not.’

‘Just think on the warmth I could have offered once you try to make yourself comfortable on the straw besides the livestock.’

She stormed outside.

The night did not go well. As if fate would see fit to see her punished for her dealings with the infernal a bitter cold struck the lands, followed by an unsettling thunderstorm to which Tav awoke constantly, her rest not made easier by the bite of the frost and the animals’ racket at the state of the weather. The wooden roof of the stable did little to shelter her from the pouring rain. Finally she grabbed her equipment and made her way back to the inn. Better to sleep somewhere on the floor than outside in this chaos.

There were quite a few guests who had passed out where they sat. Some still chattered quietly with each other, indulging in their drinks and company, only sparing Tav a quick look, then returning to their business. Raphael was not among them. Maybe he had left for good, coming here for the sole purpose of toying with Tav, never meaning to spend the night here at all.

She went up the stairs, ignoring the room she knew to be Isobel’s and approached the door to the one that belonged to the devil. And if he was there after all? Tav might just have to wing it, like she usually did.

Tentatively she knocked. Nothing. Luck was on her side. Relief spread through her entire body, followed by glee at the prospect of spending the rest of the night in a warm and dry room all to herself. With a huge grin on her face Tav entered the room, but the joy on her face froze in place as she saw what awaited inside.

‘I’m sorry, did you hear me say “Come in”?’ Raphael was lounging inside a lavish bathtub in the middle of the room, the place lit by the fires of a heating stove and a few candles loosely spread about.

‘Um, excuse me, I… I’d hoped you might’ve left already.’ Her mind was telling her to make herself scarce, run and not spare the devil and this godsforsaken room another thought, but she found that she could not quite avert her eyes from the scene before her. Raphael had only ever presented himself to her in the most formal attire and to now see him in this state of undress did… things to her body. Things her mind was powerless against.

‘Hoped I might have left,’ he said. ‘How sad to hear. And here I was thinking you might take me up on my kind offer after all.’ He looked her up and down. ‘You sure look like a nice hot bath could do you some good.’

She wanted to decline, like she did earlier tonight. It would be the wise thing to do. But the steam rising from the tub in contrast to her shivering limbs had the logical part of her brain reduced to a quivering lonely tadpole.

‘All right,’ she said. ‘I accept. I will… um, wait until you’re finished.’

‘Oh, that could take hours, my dear,’ the devil sighed. ‘I do so enjoy a long relaxing bath after a hard day’s work, and with no one about to help me wash… Who knows when this will be over?’ He must be joking. ‘I promise to help you in turn.’

Tav stood staring at a smirking Raphael. When she finally found her voice again the words came out weak: ‘You’re asking me to… join you?’ Raphael trailed his finger through the water. ‘This tub is big enough for the both of us I believe, and the water is o so pleasantly warm. Come on, Tav, and let us both indulge in it.’

Abandoning all sense of self-preservation she started stripping, well aware of the devil’s keen gaze on her. She shivered, not from the cold now, but with excitement. The thought of being so close – naked at that – with Raphael intoxicated her more than the hardest liquor ever could.

When she was done undressing she climbed into the tub. Raphael smiled at her while she adjusted her legs, careful not to make contact with his nether region, but it was near impossible to not brush her legs against his. Tav found she hardly wanted to miss the sensation.

The warmth of the water spread through her, drawing a deep sigh from her lips and whilst she inhaled she took notice of a most wonderful scent: A strong whiff of cherries, pepper, and palmarosa. How much of these pleasant sensations, both the smell and temperature, might be conjured up by the devil present, she wondered.

‘There,’ Raphael said. ‘Much better, don’t you think?’

‘Mhmm,’ Tav mumbled as she slowly let her eyes drift shut.

Suddenly they flew open again. Raphael had started to put a piece of soap to work along her left leg, followed by a gentle trailing of his fingers along the skin with his free hand. He halted at her silent protest. ‘Do you want me to stop?’

Hells no. His touch was bliss. Tav shook her head. ‘Please, do go on, if you will.’

He smiled at her. ‘With pleasure.’ And pleasure he gave.

Despite his infernal origin the caresses he administered were heavenly, drawing soft circles around her inner thigh, and moans from her lips. It was pure rapture to her weary body.

‘Don’t stop, Raphael. Please, more…’

‘Oh, you want more, dearest? Why, you’re in luck, for there is more to come.’ And he leaned forward, pressing a kiss to her left knee, then moving to the right, and kissing it in turn. How could she ever think to refuse him? The rain outside went on, and now it seemed to Tav like a blessing, for it had sent her here.

Raphael kept on working his washing and gentle strokes on her right leg, his hand on her inner thigh moving ever further and further… Was he–? Two of his long elegant fingers had found their way between her folds, and Tav’s arm shot out to hold onto his. The devil stopped his magic once more and looked at her with his deep brown eyes. ‘More?’ he asked.

‘Yes,’ Tav said, nodding.

Raphael started working his fingers inside her once more, and her now aching cunt welcomed them, drawing them nearer and nearer towards her innermost core. She still held onto his arm and Raphael inched closer, putting his other hand atop her knee, the piece of soap now all but forgotten, drifting in the water. He put his mouth over hers and kissed her deeply, hungrily devouring her moans while paying further attention to her clit, adding attentive strokes with his thumb. She could feel his throbbing cock brush against her quivering leg and Tav sneaked her free arm around his neck, burying her hand in his soft curls, and scratching his scalp with her nails while drawing him closer. All she wanted right now was have him be close to her.

Her oncoming orgasm was noticeably rising within her and she moaned Raphael’s name in thanks. But then he stopped.

The devil removed his fingers from her, drawing back to once again lean against his side of the tub. A few hairs were out of place but other than that he looked as immaculate as always. She herself must seem a mess. ‘Why did you stop?’ How dare he leave her in such frustration?

‘I think it’s time you start earning your stay. Don’t you agree?’ She would swipe that damnable smirk from his lips, leave him as much a moaning mess as he did her. Oh, she would do so much more than earn her stay. That her thoughts made her seem no more than a common harlot no longer held any power over her.

Tav moved forward, Raphael handing her the piece of soap and spreading his legs to make room for her. She started working on his chest, letting it glide over the fluff of hair on his body, her other hand paying attention to his side, softly caressing him, briefly wondering if the devil would prefer a firmer touch. A pleased sigh from him told her that her ministrations were just right. While her movements wandered over his stomach towards his bellybutton and below she leaned in to him, planting kisses on his neck and Adam’s apple, trailing them along his jaw and chin as she listened to the sweet sounds coming from him.

As she approached his nether region she changed course though, swiping the soap gently along his right calf, then the left, moving closer and closer just as he had done.

‘Such a tease,’ Raphael said in between moans. ‘I think we’ve both had enough washing now.’ He grabbed her by the flanks and drew her into his lap. Tav smiled, there was no place she’d rather be right now.

He adjusted her position, the tip of his hard cock brushing along her folds. Looking into his eyes there was desire and Tav knew hers reflected the same nature, but she also found hesitation, a silent plea for permission, and so she herself started lowering down, taking him fully, letting Raphael know just how much she wanted this. They moaned their pleasure in unison.

Holding onto his shoulders she rode him, water splashing about, hitting the floor around the tub. Tav didn’t care. It didn’t matter if they made a mess of the room, all she knew was that Raphael was still moaning beneath her, enjoying her movement on his cock, his hands guiding her, his hip arching upwards to find more friction, and that was her entire world right now.

She leaned forward to find his lips again, an action made harder by their mutual rutting. Noses brushed against each other and their kiss was as sloppy as it was passionate.

Raphael started pounding into her, both of them close in reaching their climax. Still finding enough strength in her Tav brushed her fingers over his flush cheek. ‘Oh, sweet Raphael. Tell me, have I earned my stay, fair and truly?’

The affirmation was given in groaning, his cock still hitting her walls in all the right places, and in a wuthering wave of water splashing all around them, Tav and Raphael moaning each others’ names in zealous praising, they both finally found their release.

The pair stayed like that in silence for a minute or two, the only sound in the room their exasperated breathing and the crackling of the fire in the corner. Tav noticed that it had stopped raining.

She laid her head on Raphael’s heaving chest, trailing a finger along his arm now resting on the edge of the tub. There was barely any water left to fully cover their bodies.

Finally they found it in them to move, Raphael gently guiding her out of the bathtub, for the floor around it was drenched in water that had been in the way of their pleasure. The devil snapped his fingers and all was gone along with the tub itself. Tav wrinkled her brow, she should have known that such an expensive looking and enormous piece of furniture was not a part of the inn’s equipment.

Raphael led her towards the bed, throwing the covers over them both and drawing her closer. Tav gladly accepted the invitation.

Before she drifted off to sleep, curled atop the devil she shared a room with, she heard Raphael whispering into her ear: ‘You know, once you reach Baldur’s Gate… I’m afraid there will be plenty of inns and taverns with more than enough rooms to choose from.’

Once again she leaned upwards to plant a kiss upon his lips. ‘I’ll make sure to find yours,’ she said.

In her dream Tav lost a thousand games of lanceboard, and welcomed each and every one of them.

#bg3 raphael #raphael bg3 #raphael x tav #my writing #my stuff #i like a good gif where he looks his sleaziest :3 #was waiting about an hour to edit this #my neighbour kept screaming into the phone #this place i swear #didn't want to go over and say anything #like 'hey lady i need to work on my smut over here'

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emjiroki · 6 months

Text

Vampire Cult Leader Geto Suguru x Reader

Word Count: 3.3k

Warnings: sacrifice, blood drinking, hypnosis, predator/prey dynamics, death (not reader or geto), venom as an aphrodisiac, pet names with a little degradation (pet, little lamb), dubcon (it will be tagged appropriately multiple times)

A/N: Happy Halloween Ghouls and Goblins! What's more perfect to celebrate wrapping up this spooky season than with a Vampire Geto fic? I hope everyone enjoys and has a safe holiday!

Likes, comments, reblogs, and tags are appreciated and treasured

‘Why is it so cold? Where are they taking me? Why am I in only a thin sheet?’ all of these questions swarmed through your mind as whoever it was had their freezing hands around your wrists just over the leather they had used to tie them. They kept growling to “Keep moving”, your feet shuffling cautiously across the cold concrete.

You couldn't see who they were due to the cloth tied across your vision but they would shove you if you stopped moving or stumbled, sending you to the ground before dragging you back up harshly from the floor. With the adrenaline coursing through you, it felt as if your blood should be cold; not hot as it oozed from the scrapes across your knees.

A rush of air from an opening door greeted you before you were dragged forward again, forced to your knees in a kneeling position, a cold hand pushing your head down before yanking the blindfold off. You squinted even in the low light of the massive room, flickering candles in massive standing candelabras lined the room and cast dancing shadows across the stone walls; shadows that seemed to mock you.

It seemed to be a jumble of senses as you tried to figure out just where the hell you were; the temperature of the room, the smell of incense permeating the air, the rough feeling of stone beneath your knees and toes, the sensation of light cloth against your skin from a white gown like dress you had never seen before, and the massive door being the only way in or out lined with guards in black robes.

There were other captives kneeling next to you in a line, a few of them crying softly and the others with their heads down and their eyes closed, lips mumbling words you couldn't quite hear but you assumed they were a prayer. All dressed in identical gowns to yours.

You turned your head slightly to try and get a look at the people behind you, all of them in robes of various shades of red, a symbol carved into the flesh below their collarbones. The guard behind you turned your head back to face the stage again, his eyes a feral shade of orangey yellow as he bared his teeth. Fangs, not teeth, you realize, your body begins to shake. What was going on here? A sharp cry echoed through the room as a woman down the line was bashed across the back of the head with a wooden pole after seemingly trying to get up, her sobs only seemed to grow as they began poking and prodding her, laughing at her anguish and fear.

“Now now we know better than to play with our food don’t we?” a deep voice rang out from the front of the stage, one light turning on to showcase exactly who was talking. The room erupted in applause as the dark-haired man bowed, smiling as he motioned for the crowd to settle, “What is rule number three?”.

“Pain ruins the blood” the crowd answered together.

“That’s right” He commended, seemingly pleased for the moment until he turned his gaze to the two offenders who had been pushing the woman around.

With a wave of his hand, they were turned to mist, blood spraying across the ground and walls as they turned to wet atoms. Your jaw dropped, stomach twisting. What the hell was going on?

“And we have no room for anyone who can’t follow my simple rules, correct?”

“Yes Master Suguru” the crowd chanted back.

“Help us!” one man cried, his head raised to stare at the master with pleading eyes. Suguru laughed, something airy and almost gleeful.

“But I am helping you,” He replied, “Helping you reach your potential, true enlightenment”. The crowd erupted in applause again, their clapping unnerving you. He continued to speak once the group died down again, explaining their cult mission in a voice that seemed as if he was speaking directly into your brain, whispering in your ear; the words curling around your brainstem and invading your nervous system. Despite the urge to flee, the primal need to get as far away as possible screaming, you couldn’t move. Frozen to the floor watching him gliding across the stone stage, back and forth in his long robes the color of garnet stone.

“Don't you see? You are but simple nourishment, akin to cattle for the slaughter, it's your true purpose".

Fresh adrenaline flared when the icy hand of the guard standing behind you wrapped around the back of your neck, the shrill scream that left your mouth didn't sound human; feral and desperate. The strap they had used to tie your hands dug deeply into your wrists as you thrashed, managing to throw the guard off balance enough to shoulder his thigh and send him to the floor before forcing yourself to your feet. The cult was swarming now, circling like a pack of wolves waiting for their prey to make the wrong move, their unnatural eyes bright with bloodlust.

“Enough” The dark voice of their leader brought them to a halt.

Like scolded dogs, they moved away from you, the guy you had knocked to the floor staring like he wanted to break your neck. Your knees throb from kneeling as you stand on unsteady feet, suppressing every urge not to shake as their leader approaches you in his unnerving gliding stride.

“Well well, a strong one aren’t you?” He asked in a seemingly pleased tone, drawing so close to you it felt like he was enveloping you, so close that you could see the delicate gleam of hunger in his carnelian eyes. The moment you looked into his gaze it felt as if your body had frozen, like prey in a trap. His pointed nails dragged smoothly across your cheek, riddling your skin with goosebumps.

The longer his cold fingers lingered the more it felt as if he was invading your body through every nerve ending, every pulse of your blood seemed to be at his will like he was pumping your heart manually.

Your mouth felt iron-locked, eyes unable to tear away from his as one hand held your jaw, keeping you steady as he reached behind you and easily sliced through the leather, the sound of the strap falling to the floor barely audible over the pounding of your heart in your ears.

‘Why can’t I feel the floor? Am I… floating?’ all of these questioning thoughts ran through your mind as you focused on the feeling of what seemed like your entire body was balancing in the palm of his hand.

“See? So easily subdued, such a good pet”.

It felt as if your heart should be pounding, adrenaline and cortisol spiking through your blood as a vague primal panic tensed every muscle to flee. But it wasn’t and nothing was happening except a boneless calm. Glass water in a lake. He leaned in close, his nose grazing the line of your pulse as his dark eyes flickered closed for a moment, a deep inhale drifting his warm exhale against your flesh as the energy buzzing around you reflected the restraint he was exuding to keep his lips from your throat.

“On your knees” He murmured, his hand releasing your jaw the second your legs gave out under you as he turned away, beginning to walk back with merely a glance down at you.

“Crawl”.

Your limbs weren’t your own as you dropped to your hands, your knees throbbing as the scrapes met the floor and shuffled across it; your head up with your eyes still trained on him and watching every fluid movement of his steps. You grit your teeth against the pain of the cuts opening again but are unable to stop trailing behind him, parading yourself for his power move. But as long as you weren’t being swarmed by these bloodsuckers you’d stay on your knees all night.

He ascended the stairs silent as a ghost, no sound reached your ears other than the whimpering of the others held captive cutting the pin-drop silence. He reached the stone landing three stairs before you did, two of his henchmen struggling but quickly moving a chair in for him that should be described as a throne, all dark wood and deep obsidian velvet cushions. They bowed graciously to him before skirring away as you moved to his feet.

“Look at you, come closer”. You shuffled forward until you were between his parted thighs, his hand cold as he traced the back of his fingers against your cheek, “So warm and supple”. You felt air invade your lungs again, the fog in your brain lifting, if only momentarily, and you finally move on your own accord. You rubbed your wrists where the strap had been cutting in, your white gown pooling around your legs now. A soft, unsatisfied noise escaped him as his dark eyes followed your brief glance down to your clothing, a sharp clawing-like nail pricking just under your chin to drag you up again. The room's cool air had fresh goosebumps erupting across your skin as he raised his hands to your shoulders before pushing the gown down and off to settle at your feet. You stayed still as he observed you in your bare form, your heart hammering in nervousness, fear taking the back burner for now. It felt like he was analyzing you. Not an inch of skin or cell in your body unseen as he regarded you with a sort of… interest.

“No need to be so nervous pet,” He said, leaning back comfortably, “You’re in capable hands now”.

“Who-Who are you?” You stuttered, your voice breaking as you lifted your arms to cover yourself. The chuckle surprised you.

“I am Geto Suguru, Master of this cult of… well animals, bloodsuckers, the discarded scraps I suppose”

“Why are you doing this?”. Another almost unnerving chuckle.

"Feeding them, and myself, so we don't get too restless, tends to cause more chaos when hungry" He mused, glancing behind you once and waving his hand dismissively before training his predatory gaze back to you. "but I must say I don't think I've ever had a meal as pretty as you".

You fight the shamed redness from your cheeks, your spine chilling as a shrill scream shattered the near quiet; the ravenous sounds of the bloodsuckers descending upon those sacrificed to their feral appetites had your stomach tied in knots.

"No no, eyes on me" Geto murmured, a strange tingling behind your eyes prompting you to face forward again, to ignore the carnage behind you unsuccessfully. The sickening sounds of teeth popping flesh had your stomach churning, skin crawling, and saliva pooling against your tongue as you forced the vomit down at the images your brain was conjuring up at the sucking wet sounds. You were so focused on not throwing up that you didn’t notice the cool hand wrapping around your wrist, Geto pulling you forward until you were stumbling into his lap. He settled your knees on either side of his lap, effectively straddling him in the chair and baring everything to his wandering gaze. Your body began to shake, afraid to put your hands anywhere but clutched to your chest, every alarm bell ringing loudly but your muscles froze.

“Geto I-” You stammered past your trembling jaw, only for one of his slender fingers to press against your lips.

“Master” He corrected in a hushed tone, “you’ll address me as Master while under my care”, He leaned forward slightly to draw his nose along your throat again, “at least for now”.

“M-Master”, the name foreign to your tongue and making something stir in your guts, “I’m-”.

“Scared, I know, Your blood is practically burning” He hummed, a soft smile on his lips that revealed his fangs, “purely divine”.

It felt wrong to be aroused at the feeling of this deadly man running his hands along your sides, his claw-like nails on one hand running tantalizing lines along your ribs. The other was planted flat on the small of your back, almost encouraging you to lean closer into him.

You squeaked at the feeling of his lips meeting your collarbone, his tongue slipping against the skin, tasting you, reveling in the sound of your heart beating like a racing horse.

“Why are you doing this to me?” You asked, finally putting your hands against his shoulders to keep balanced. His dark eyes flicked up to you, flames from the surrounding candlelight dancing in those black pools.

“I truly despise repeating myself,” He said, a more stern edge to his voice as he moved his hand up to thread in your hair, arching your neck back a little to expose your throat.

“It’ll only hurt for a moment, take a deep breath”.

You could do nothing but follow his instructions, air filling your lungs for a moment before a sharp stinging pain erupted across your throat, bringing tears to your eyes as you let the breath escape in a shaky whimper, your hands shoving against his shoulders in a futile effort to move him.

His hold was unbreakable. Pinning you to his lap and barely allowing any movement. The pain radiated through your body, a flash burn that made every nerve under your skin ignite. But suddenly there was nothing. No pain. No fear. Just a blooming euphoric feeling.

Were you dying? No no that couldn’t be this. Nothing could be this.

You felt a soft chuckling growl tremor against your throat as sagged a little against Geto’s chest, the hand against your moving for his arm to encircle you and keep you steady.

“It’s the venom” He murmured into your skin, answering your silent question. It was then you noticed all other sounds past this were numbed. Muffled like someone had filled your ears with cotton. It was as if you were in a bubble, the only feeling being Geto beneath you. The feeling of his lips on your throat, his cool hands caressing your skin, the softness of his robes. Like all the nerve endings in your body were firing at once. Your hips bucked against him as he dragged his nails softly down your spine, releasing your hair to make you shiver. The stimulation of your heat had a choked moan escaping, bucking your hips involuntarily again and feeling a prominent bulge forming.

“Easy now pet” He hissed, his hands going to your hips as rocked against him again and again, the stimulation buzzing through your body like you were touching a live wire. You couldn’t help how wet you were, the stickiness of your thighs drawing a burning heat to your face. Your gasp echoed around you when Geto unlatched himself from your throat, his lips red and shining in the dim candlelight, beckoning you in to steal a sinful kiss. As if reading your mind he leaned forward, one hand softly against the back of your next pulling you to meet him halfway and taste yourself against his lips. It should have been gross, downright revolting to have your blood smearing against your lips and swallowed against your tongue, but you let him devour you. Panting with a soft moan as his tongue slid against your lower lip, his sharp canines nicking against the soft flesh and drawing fresh blood into both of your mouths.

“You want it that bad?” He questioned and you realized your hips hadn’t stopped moving, the wetness leaking against the material of his robes. With the way this dizzying need consumed your brain and body, you couldn’t say no. Wouldn’t say no. Not when you were balancing on a precipice this steep. If all you needed to do was give yourself to him, blood and body, then it was much preferable over anything that would have happened with those fiendish goons still devouring on the floor behind you. You gasped as he lifted you up slightly, hands against your hips as he shifted the front of his robes open. The groan that tumbled from his lips as you wrapped your hand around his cock sent a shiver through you, his dark eyes peering up at you through heavy lids as his sensitive head grazed across your wet heat. You tried to sink down and take him all at once but his sharp nails dug into your hips and ass the moment he breached your entrance.

“Ah ah, go slow” He instructed, squeezing your flesh and pulling you down an inch at a time, your head swimming as he stretched you so well, stuffing himself right up against the soft spot inside of you. A sharp hiss escaped you as he roughly prodded your cervix.

“It’s- too much” You whined, shifting your hips uncomfortably.

“You’ll learn to take it” He murmured, his lips grazing your chest as he panted out a heavy groan, “So tight”. Another sharp pain against the side of your breast and suddenly you were buzzing again, that euphoria leaking back into your bloodstream. You could feel him drawing your blood in against his tongue, drinking you down greedily like he was a dehydrated man receiving water, his hands beginning to guide you along his length. It felt like he was dissolving into you, your warmth gripping him and filling his stomach at the same time as you began to bounce, your clit smashing into the hair at his pelvis as moans crumbled passed your lips more freely.

“That’s right, fall apart for me,” Geto encouraged as he broke from your skin, the side of your breast slick with blood as it rolled down your stomach, his tongue tracing the line to clean up his spill. Your climax was edging embarrassingly fast, your wetness leaking out and staining the material of his robes as you panted and whimpered wantonly, completely disregarding anyone who could be watching at that moment. You could feel eyes on you, burning into your back with hunger but you ignored it, sparks popping behind your tightly closed eyes as Geto began thrusting up into your body.

“M-Master I’m-” You tried to tell him how close you were as his hand moved up to squeeze your cheeks, prompting you to open your eyes for him. Looking into his gaze had you under his spell again, like a mouse about to be consumed whole by a snake. You leaned forward and pressed your lips to his, a surprised hum bubbling from his chest as he pulled you in closer and began hammering against the soft sensitive spot deep inside and dragging you closer to your end.

“Cum for me” He whispered against your lips, the prick of his nails in your flesh sending you careening over the edge. Your arousal soaked your thighs and dripped from his balls to the chair as you shrieked, never having had an orgasm this intense before in your life. He chuckled darkly as he moved his thumb down to your clit, pressing in tight circles and sending you spiraling again, your hips moving without any rhythm as your second release crashed through you and further soaked his lap. You sagged against him as if boneless, your breath escaping in heavy pants and your heart thumping so loudly it sounded like it was leaking from your ears.

“Look at the mess you made, little lamb” He commented, his thumb going down to run across your folds and bring your juices to his lips, “you’ll have to do your part and clean me up with that exploring tongue of yours”.

A weak groan was all you were able to manage, not able to even move your arms. You felt so weak.

“But that will come later, need to have you in top shape to take my seed and produce my strong little spawns”.

You weakly raised your head to look at him, feeling the surprise on your face before he mentioned it.

“Don’t look so surprised little lamb, you’ve proven yourself a worthy vessel and an even worthier snack” He dipped his lips down to your ear, nipping lightly but drawing no blood as you twitched against him, “think I’ll keep you, make you my bloodsucking bride and give you true purpose, to be mine. Forever”.

#happy halloween #geto suguru #vampire geto suguru #jjk smut #geto suguru smut #tw monsterfucking #tw dubcon #tw blood #em writes ✍#em talks 👄

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mayuichi · 5 months

Text

“My joy... My joy is when I'm next to them.„

Wriothesley x Reader. No warnings!

note: i almost dont have anything piled up anymore!!!

“My... joy?„ his right eyebrow rose in confusion. “Mhm. What is your joy ? Beside handling the Fortress of Meropide, what brings you happiness ?„

On that day, he couldn't answer the question his friend asked him. What was his joy beside being the Duke ? Taking care of others and everything related to the Fortress of Meropide was his sole purpose for a long time.

“I don't think I have any, Monsieur Neuvillette.„ he responded with a chuckle, but the man before him didn't budged. “That is sad. I hoped you could've enlighten me on what can bring happiness to a human...„

The Duke's expression changed to one of worry, yet he couldn't express it properly. “Why don't you ask to Lady Furina then ? She may know a thing or two.„ but the white haired man shook his head. “Lady Furina is... I do not mean to dismiss her knowledge, but I doubt she can answer the questions I have.„

He hums in understanding. It was a rare sight to see the Iudex himself come to the Fortress, especially for such a private matter. But who would the Duke be to refuse entry to a friend ?

But now, a year has passed since Neuvillette wondered on that. And he finally had an answer to his question, so when they saw each other, they planned to see again around a tea in the Duke's office.

They are seated around his office desk, the steams escaping their hot drinks. “Monsieur Neuvillette, I can answer to your question now.„ he claims aloud, a smile creeping up his face just to think about what he's about to say.

“My joy... My joy is when I'm next to them. When I get back to my quarters and they awaits me here, it's amazing. Knowing I have someone to rely on and let myself be vulnerable around is such a relief. For example, just yesterday...„

...

“Wrio.„ he's working on paperwork. Don't you know to leave him peacefully when he works ? “Wrio.„ your voice makes him want to scoop you up and joke around, just so he can also hear your laugh. “Wrio.„

But his paperwork awaits. He can't always let you distract him. “Wriooo!„ yet your whining gets louder and louder until he slams his pen against the desk. “What is it ?„ he looks upset, but he isn't. He just wants you to know to not disturb him.

“Can I play with your hair?„ he blinks. What was that request of yours again ? Why would you even want to play with his hair ? “Is there a problem with my hair?„ he's intrigued now.

“I just want to! It looks soft.„ he sighs and stares at you. With your puppy dogs eyes, he could just not resist. With a low laughter, he gives in. “Alright, alright. But stay quiet. I need to work, baby.„ you eagerly nod.

Once he focuses back again, you massage his scalp, mess with his hair as well. It's indeed soft. Who would've knew the Duke takes such care in his hair ? Or perhaps, it's just naturally this way. In any case, it makes you love it.

You don't peek on his paperwork though. He has always been clear for it. He doesn't want you to be involved in anything concerning the Fortress of Meropide. He wants to keep you away from all that world.

Toying further with his hair, you smirk for yourself at a simple thought. You would purposefully make his hair look like he has wolf ears. And so you innocently begin to execute your plan.

And by the end of it, he thought he earned himself a small break, unbeknownst to him about his hairstyle. He carefully takes your petite hand in his big one, to lead you around.

He couldn't understand why everyone would look weirdly at him. He glances down to look at his clothes.. No, everything is in order. “Baby, do you know why they are acting weird ?„ you shake your head, keeping up your act. “No idea.„

It's only when he goes to check on Sigewinne he realizes something is wrong. The way she holds in her laugh. She never mocked him, so why today ? “My love, fetch me a mirror.„ he orders you. “Why ? Nothing is wrong with you.„

His glance tells you everything. He doesn't ask you to, he orders you. You silently gulp and search around the infirmary for a mirror, and when you find one, you hand it to him, taking your distance.

Inspecting his appearance carefully, it lasts a little more before he sees the different hairstyle. A grin spreads on his lips as he hands the mirror to Sigewinne. “Baby...„

It's too much for you, you burst in laughter. But you're fast to stop and start running to his office. “You little-!„ he chases after you.

He's way faster than you normally, so you know he purposefully slows down just so you can reach his office before him. Once in, you try to hide behind a recess in the wall.

You can hear his footsteps stomping on the floor, faking his upset mood. “Baby, I know you're here, you little prick. Come out.„

It's becoming harder to hold your laugh. Due to it, a noise escapes your lips. He rapidly rushes to you, grasping your wrists to pin you against the wall.

“Such a little freak, aren't you ? It's funny, right ? Making fun of your boyfriend in front of his employees and prisoners.„ you know he isn't mad, he would've already throw you out of the Fortress to have some time alone otherwise.

“Don't blame me, those fake wolf ears fit you so well!„ you squirm underneath his grip. He reveals his teeth, leaning against your neck to press a trail of kisses. “Such a little tease I have for a lover, huh...„

He lets a hand slide across your cheek, freeing a hand of yours. He sighs in contentment. How could he have someone so perfect after all ? He couldn't be happier.

After a few more kisses on your neck, his lips collide with you in a passionate kiss. Do you ever realized he's a greedy man ? Perhaps he's been starving for so long.

Pulling away from the kiss, he scoops you and sits at his desk, letting you rest on his lap. His head nuzzling in your neck, an arm around your waist to hold you still, he grabs his pen once more.

“You're my little prick, aren't you?„ you happily hum, pressing your back against his muscular torso. You know you're going to stay here while he works until he decides the day is off.

...

“I see... So they bring you happiness ?„ Neuvillette wonders, a hand reaching his chin as he loses himslef in his thoughts. “Indeed. I never thought I could have anything making me happier than the Fortress, but they proved me I was wrong.„

Sipping on the tea, Neuvillette nods his head, understanding how he might feel.

“They're my bundle of joy. To me... Joy is just being anywhere near them, and knowing they're mine.„

/ᐠ - ˕ •マ Ⳋ mayuichi's property. do not repost, copy or translate without permission.

#genshin impact #genshin #genshin impact x reader #genshin wriothesley #genshin impact wriothesley #wriothesley genshin #wriothesley genshin impact #wriothesley #wriothesley x reader #x reader #/ᐠ - ˕ •マ Ⳋ's writing

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frank1nsaint · 3 months

Text

Franklin Part 3

Warnings: Use of curse words and N-word

“Why you been dodging me?” Franklin asks you as soon as you open the door to your house

You step out “I have no idea what you’re talking about”

“Oh so those pages and calls to your phone?” he points towards the inside of your house “They didn't happen?”

You shrug “I don't know maybe you dialed the wrong number” you had no plan to explain to him why you hoped he would just take the hint and let you be, it had been 3 weeks since your first date

He throws his hands up “Come on Y/N what happened? We were just good not too long ago I was gonna take you on another date’n shit”

“I don’t think we would be good for each other Franklin”

“Why you say that? we just talked about you not sabotaging” he points between both of you “this”

“Im not”

He leans in “You are” he argues

“Franklin we aren’t good for each other just accept that” you state matter of factly before you turn to go in

He grabs your arm gently “Nah you owe me an explanation”

“I don’t!” you answer defiantly snatching your arm away

“Yes the fuck you do. I’m puttin’ my best foot forward and you fuckin’ it up on purpose cuz of what? you fucking scared of the shit I do? Aint nobody gon touch you Y/N they dont touch Wanda and her dope head ass what make you think they gon fuck withchu?”

You sigh “Franklin”

“Nah fuck that Y/N”

“You really wanna know?”

He nods “Yes I do, enlighten me”

You pause “I can’t trust you Franklin”

His face holds a confused look “What are you even...?”

“After our date, some of your henchmen came up to me. Guess what they said to me?”

Franklin held his breath he feels his heart beat start to increase. You start to mock the mannerisms and voice of the men “shit I heard you and my boy Saint had a date last night” He shrugs “So i told them we went on a date big deal” praying that's where the story ends

You continue “Men I lost my $200 and my boy came up on a smooth couple grand” you pause and look at him “ha-ha my man Saint he a G tho” you return to a normal voice “then he proceeds to tell me that there was a bet between you and your fucking crew, you got two grand if i actually went on a date with you?” you scoff “if you were that hard up for money Saint all you had to do was ask I could have given you that and we wouldn’t be having this conversation”

“Y/N let me explain” this was not as it seemed

“Not even 24 hours passed after our date and I’m hearing you went rounding up your niggas so they could pay you!" you paused "And OH! if I fucked you it would have been an additional $3000” you say sarcastically

“Y/N” he calls

You start mocking another guy “My girl Y/N, my sunshiiinneee yo yo yo shit if i had known all i had to do was ask you all proper and shit you would be my girl now. May I take you to dinner Y/N, miss congeniality” you tilt your head “they said you looked pretty in that green dress last night wish it was me instead of that nigga!”

“Who approached you?” he asked with a deep scowl on his face.

“I’ll give you that Saint. You played me good. You played a good game” you begin to walk away

“Hold up, hold up, hold up, who came up to you?” He asked again You return his mug “I’m not telling you Franklin! It doesn’t matter anyway you up 1 grand right?”

“Y/N listen I will explain later but who told you that? They are a liability to my shit!”

You shrug “what that got to do with me?”

“Tell me their fuckin’ names Y/N!” he demands

You sigh “you betted on me”

“Y/N”

In a soft tone you say “$2000 for the date, additional $3000 if we fucked, had people follow us, Big Saint, The Man, The Myth, The Legend show you lil niggas how its done” you pause “right?...... Saint?”

He looks up and runs his hand down his face feeling like his heart was going to explode word for word you quote what he had that night (“show you lil niggas how its done”) “Y/N please just tell me who told you that and I will explain everything” he begs

“If you wanted the money all you had to do was ask Franklin”

“Y/N, I don’t care about the money” “But you still made sure to collect, right?” you pause “Then you got the nerve to get annoyed at the fact that I was sabotaging the date!” you scoff in disbelief and begin to walk into your house

Franklin grabs your arm “Y/N listen!”

“Don’t Franklin!” you warn removing yourself from his grip

He blocks the door with his body “Y/N This aint a fucking game who approached you?! I need to know!”

You shook your head, you look him in the eye “I’m not gonna tell you Saint”

He tilted his head and pauses with an offended tone he says “Don’t call me that, I'm not Saint to you it’s either Franklin or any other fucking thing else but I’m not Saint to you!”

You go to say something else but decide not “Fucking Asshole!” you mutter looking down at your sweater pulling small knots that had formed

He released a deep sigh “Fine I’ll take that but you need to tell me who approached you.” he moves his head trying to get you to look up at him. You remain silent. “Tell me Y/N”

You shake your head “I’m not gonna tell you Franklin”

“WHY?!” he pauses to gather himself “You know how serious this shit is?” “SO YOU CAN GO KILL THEM?!” “OH MY GOD AINT NOBODY THINKIN’ ABOUT KILLING THEM NIGGAS!” he looks around and moves closer to you “keep your fucking voice down!” he whispers harshly You scoff “It’s all good Saint” Almost immediately he sizes you up and with gritted teeth he says “What the fuck did I just say?”

You feel shiver run down, it shocked you so much that you instinctively jump move away slightly, but you hold your ground still glaring at him before you step away and snicker and nod a few of times with tears in your eyes

With instant regrets he breaks his stance and takes a step back to show that his anger isn't’ aimed at you. “Just tell me” he says in a significantly softer tone

“I’m not gonna tell you Franklin, I don’t want their deaths on me because you decided to be an asshole all over $5000?”

He steps towards “Y/N please”

You step away with your hand up “It’s all good Franklin, I hope you put that $1000 to good use” a tear drops from your eyes “Y/N” “No hard feelings really Franklin, but you know this can’t work ever, doesn’t matter your explanation.” another tear from your right eye begins to roll down “wish you the best in your business stay safe out there”

“Y/N! No no no no please please please!” he begs gently grabbing your hand trying to stop you but also making sure to not scare you away

You pull your hand away “Goodnight Franklin” you speak before closing the door.

He looks at the door for a moment before turning and walking away towards his car. He turns on the car and begins to drive away “FFFUUUCCCKKKK!” he screams feeling the rage course through him as he speeds on the freeway

Franklin walks in and slams the door causing Jerome to jump up from his seat gun drawn “MOTHAFUCKA I ALMOST SHOT YOU WHAT THE HELL WRONG WITCHU?!”

They hear footsteps before Louie is stand ny the door “JEROME? WHO THE FUCK IS THAT? FRANKLIN!?” she comments frantically looking around for the threat “Not now” he grits out

“NIGGA WHO YOU THINK YOU TALKIN’ TO?! WALKIN’ UP IN MY HOUSE SLAMMIN’ MY SHIT. I'll FUCK YOU UP!” Jerome bellows

The phone rings and Franklin picks up “Hello?! meet me at Jerome house, now nigga, YES NOW! Bring Sean witchu!”

“WHAT THE HELL GOING ON FRANKLIN WHAT HAPPENED?” Louie asks “THEM LITTLE MOTHAFUCKAS DONE WENT AND TOLD Y/N ABOUT THE BET!” “WHAT? WHAT BET?” Louie asks

Jerome looks at Franklin like he has three heads “NIGGA WHAT??? YOU MAD OVER THAT STUPID ASS BET?” Franklin took major offence to Jeromes accusations, tilting his head to the side “You laughing but if I can't trust them to not tell a bitch about a stupid ass bet I can’t trust them in my shit!! They gone blow up our spot and fuck up our shit.” he points to his head “You not thinking Unc” Jerome paused and realised the gravity of the situation

“What is this bet? And what it got to do with that lil girl?” Louie asked as she looked between the two

Jerome gently waved her away “I’ll explain it to you later baby just let us be”

Louie scoffed “Shit mothafucka walkin’ in here slamming doors”

“Louie” Franklin commented

“Nigga fuck you!”

Franklin squared up Louie “AYE! AYE! AYE! WE DON'T NEED ALL THAT NOW!”

Franklin huffed and turned to continue his pace

In 10 minutes Leon and Sean arrived

“Nigga what happened” Leon asked gun already out

“We got some rat ass mothafuckas in our crew look how they got Franklin!” Jerome pokes fun at him “Nigga pacing around and shit over a bitch!” he jokes

“UNC!” Franklin warns

“What... happened?” Sean asked confused

“Y/N told me that niggas from our crew approached her telling her about the bet”

“Soooo...” Leon looked at Franklin confused

“So?” Franklin returned the expression “You niggas not thinking?” he paused “I GOTTA DO ALL THE THINKIN’ AROUND HERE??!!”

“We don’t” Sean speaks trying to rationalise their confusion

“If they running to tell her about a bet, a bet made between everyone in that room, what makes you think they not blowing up our spot?”

The men looked between each other the reality finally setting in for everyone that they could be completely exposed for anything at any moment.

“Our competitors, our opps, our product, our recipe, our schedule, our plug, our money, our peoples” Franklin states

“We got it Nephew” Jerome comments wanting him to not continue hating the feeling of being vulnerable

Franklin chuckled and looked around at them and in a whisper he sneers “and you niggas think I’m mad over a bitch when I got some snake ass mothafuckas in my crew??!! I GOT BIGGER PROBLEMS NIGGA!!” “My bad” Sean says throwing his hands up

“FFFUUUCK! Round all them niggas up now”

Leon puts his hand up “Now hold on its 2am we ain't bout to be meeting without cops spotting us”

“SHIT!”

“Look lets come up with a solution to figure out who them niggas are we start rounding people up they might start snitching even more” Leon strategizes

Franklin nodded in agreeance “We gonna act like shit aint happen and take them niggas out one by one!”

Jerome nods “Yea I like that plan!”

Franklin sighs and sits down releasing the tension in his body

“We got a plan nephew unless you got something better?”

“No I don't.”

Its silent for awhile with the 3 men (Jerome, Sean, Leon) talking to each other catching up on what they heard or whats going with their product

“Nigga what wrong withchu we have a solution”

Franklin waves him off “Not now Unc,I’m trying to figure out how to fix this shit with Y/N”

“Oh shit,” Leon comments forgetting that you were involved

“Yea nigga, Y/N! they told Y/N!”

“HA-HA you losing your mind over this girl boy! Now you know niggas talk worse than bitches sometimes. Gossipping mothafuckas”

“NOT NOW UNC” Leon shrugs “just go get another bitch, she aint the only fine girl that we know”

Franklin shot him an incredulous look “I don't want another bitch Leon I want that one!”

“She not special her stuck up ass I bet if you called Tasha now she’ll literally hop the fuck out her bed and come fuck you” Leon wasn’t really a big fan of you, he thought that you acted too good

“I dont want Tasha, I want Y/N and that thing was a fucking mistake i told you that” “Hell no don’t call that crazy girl up here! Her bat shit ass bout got herself killed trying to sneak in my damn house talking about she just wanna see Frankie” Louie comments

Jerome chortles “BOY YOU HAD THAT GIRL GOING CRAZY BOUT LOST HER FUCKIN’ MIND. DICK HAD HER STUCK NEPHEW!!” he blares out a laugh

Leon, Sean, and Louie join in on the laugh

Franklin ran his hands down his face “We gotta find them or this shit is not gonna last. If they can go run and tell Y/N what else are they doing? Product been going missing lets start there whoever them mothafuckas are they fuckin’ dead!” he grumbled.

Authors Note: Feedback is much appreciated. Please reblog, comment, and like just don't plagiarize

#franklin saint #damson idris #fan fic writing #fan fiction #imagine #snowfall fanfic #snowfall fx #black fanfiction #melvin gregg #fanfic #damson idris imagine #snowfallfx #franklin saint fanfic #franklin saint x reader #franklin saint snowfall #franklin saint imagine #franklin saint fic #black!fem!reader

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mundivagantsoul · 7 months

Text

✩ Bookshopist Moonboys ✩

Part 2: "A, b, c, d-"

Moon Knight System x Reader

Summary: How the boys have been setting in at the shop

Warnings: Google translate Spanish, a bit angsty at the end with Marc’s self-doubt, coarse language, Marvel depiction of DID

Word Count: 1.4K

A/N: Gave the boys particular fonts so the dialogue isn't confusing. Hope you enjoy and thanks for reading :)

Steven

Marc

Jake

<- Previous | Masterlist | Next ->

-------------------- ⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆ ---------------------

Steven navigates through the labyrinth of bookshelves with a pile of novels in hand. Lightly caressing the spines of various books, his eyes skim over the authors’ last names.

Humming the familiar tune that’s become a staple in their shifts, Steven starts, “A, b, c, d-”

A heavy Chicago accent interrupts his rhythm, “M, z, i…”

Steven sighs, ‘not this again’, he thinks, trying to drown out his headmate he continues, “E, f, g-”

“Q, l, u…” abruptly interrupts his thoughts again.

“H-”

“Y”

“I-”

“T”

“Bollocks, Marc, quit it!”

“Quit what? I’m just reciting the alphabet like you”.

“A-huh, sure you’re being a real help”

“You’re very welcome”

“Look bruv, I need to put these away, and I can’t do it with you distracting me every two seconds”

“Should've thought about that before you ate my food”

“For the last time, I didn’t eat your food!”

“A-huh suree~ First, you stole my wife, and now my food? Your old pals at the British Museum would be proud”.

“Oh for the love of- I’m sorry about Layla!”

“Ahem..”, a frail voice interrupts their dispute, peering down Steven is met with the comforting face of an old woman, “Sorry to bother you luv, can you point me in the direction of the cooking section?”

Cheeks warming up, Steven points towards the aisle, “Just go strain down here and turn right at si-fi, then a left at parenting, and it should be on your left”.

She smiles kindly up at him, “Thanks honey”, then plotters along with a slight wobble in her step.

-------------------- ⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆ ---------------------

It’s been 3 months since they started the job, and Steven’s loving every minute of it. His presence is appreciated, and he’s surrounded by others who share similar interests. Plus, he doesn’t have an aggravating boss breathing down his neck every second, which is a bonus.

The shop has a decent history and mythology selection. Since the Thor incident in 2011 and the revelation that god exists, people have become more intrigued by mythology. There’s lots of debate amongst mythologists and historians, arguing if the term ‘mythology’ is even correct anymore. Steven remembers reading a post by The Daily Bugle, stating, "Thor is a glorified space alien, and gods don’t walk amongst us." Little did they know.

The aftermath of the past decade and the revelations it brought have given way to more accessibility to novels regarding gods and deities, something that Steven has taken full advantage of.

In his first month of employment, he had managed to procure almost all the Egyptology books in store. Marc and Jake are constantly nagging him about it, stating they don’t have the room nor income to accommodate the influx of novels. Steven’s still trying and failing to convince Marc to turn their storage unit into a personal library, receiving the same answer in return, “We’re not turning the storage unit into your book-hoarding man-cave. We got this job to earn money, not spend it all on your addiction”.

After noticing Steven had managed to clear through all the Egyptology books, you felt the need to enlighten him with some bookshop wisdom. “You know…”, You say whilst ringing up Steven’s latest purchases, “You can order more Egyptology novels from our supplier. We don’t always have enough room to keep them on hand, but I know there’s a few we can get posted in if you're interested?”.

At your words, his eyes light up and you swear stars were floating amongst his coffee eyes, “Really?!”

“Ahí van nuestros ahorros” Jake facepalms.

Surprisingly, Jake has found himself enjoying work at the quaint store. The tasks are relatively simple, mainly involving manual labour, finding books of customers, and putting through sales. At first, he’d been nervous about working at the shop. He was closing in on 40, and the only thing he’d ever served was vengeance and cunt.

Thankfully, everyone at the store was supportive and non-judgemental. You reminded him one shift, "Believe it or not Lockley, it's okay to be a beginner and make mistakes”. Plus having two supportive brothers and a cat that somehow knows whenever he's feeling down helped. On the topic of cats, Jake was delighted to know that he could bring Viejita into work. “Will be good to get you out of the house” he mumbled to the feline, “Can’t have you growing up socially awkward like your tío Steven”, “HEY!”

Similarly to Jake, Marc was surprised to discover the job wasn’t as tedious as he’d initially predicted. The atmosphere is calm, especially for a retail job, and requires little mental thought. It’s a welcomed change, especially as his employment no longer involves something trying to kill him - though some books in the backroom have had a few good whacks at it. Since they started, Marc's gotten back into reading comics and sci-fi, he’s however, trying to keep it a secret. Khonshu forbid Steven found out he’s hypocritically spending their income on books.

There’s an unspoken rule amongst employees that if a text perks your interest you’re able to ‘skim a few pages’ to further your knowledge of company merchandise. Obviously, this only applies if you do it without altering physical integrity. All of the boys take advantage of this, finding a quiet corner in the backroom during their break, huddling up with one of the cats whilst eating lunch and immersing themselves in a new story.

Over the last 3 months, all the boys have had some interesting interactions with customers. In the first week, Steven had a lady yell at him about the price of a plastic bag - as if he had any input on the pricing. Marc and Jake were plotting murder for the full duration of the interaction.

Marc had to awkwardly ask someone for ID because they wanted to buy ‘adult’ manga whilst their mum was present. He then had to explain to the mother why an ID was required.

And just the other day, Jake had a lady come in asking for a book, only she didn’t know the title, or the author, OR the contents. Only that another bookstore in the area had in four months ago. He spent the rest of his shift questioning humanity's intelligence and pondering how we’ve managed to survive this long.

However, at the end of the day, all the questionable customer interactions are worth it because they get to see you. Your presence is now an anchor in their lives. A lighthouse guiding them out of thunderstorms and eternal seas that threaten to swallow them whole. From your enthusiasm when discussing a book, to the adorable face you make when concentrating. Every second they spend with you they become more infatuated with your being.

“We should ask them out”

“And risk them saying no then having to work with them afterwards? Absolutely not”

“We don’t know that they’ll say no, piensa positivo hermano”

“Okay, I’m positive they’ll say no”

“...That’s a lame comeback and you know it”

“I’m with Jake - not on the comeback comment, but on the fact that we don’t know how they’ll answer”

“It doesn’t need to be a date, solo cafe y pasar el rato”

Pinching the bridge of his nose, Marc sighs. Of course he wants to ask you out. Both Steven and Jake know that. He’s just worried you don’t reciprocate their feelings and only see them as friends. Or that he’ll somehow fuck it up for both you and his brothers. Maybe it would be better if he retreated back into the headspace, giving Steven and Jake the freedom to be with you without the burden of his pres-

Now it's Steven's turn to interrupt Marc. “Oi, we’re not havin’ any of that. We come as a package deal, remember? Burger, chips, drink ‘n’ everything. There’s no us without you, quite literally might I add.”

“Steven tiene razón, te respaldamos. Siempre.”

A small “meow” comes from his feet, looking down he’s met with the adoring eyes of Viejita.

“See even Viejita agree’s”

Mouth twitching up as his heart swells, Marc gives in.

“Fine... Just coffee”

-------------------- ⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆ ---------------------

Tag list: @0-ramen-0 @sunnyskyapplepie

Leave a comment or send me a message if you want to be added :)

#steven grant #jake lockley #marc spector #steven grant x reader #marc spector x reader #jake lockely x reader #moon knight x reader #moon knight #moonknight

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undiscovered-horizon · 7 months

Text

"She is not a bird" - Hvitserk x Reader

SUMMARY: In Eddas, every great warrior falls in love with a Valkyrie - a winged goddess equally beautiful and imposing. Hvitserk finds his after a battle as she's stitching wounds and bringing comfort to those who will not see another dawn.

WORDCOUNT: ~ 2k

In a colourful dress, she busses around, Time and time she turns her head, gives a smile, You could swear you saw her wings yesterday, How she hid them under the dress, But she’s not a bird, Can’t you see? She is not a bird.

Hvitserk has no interest in medicine or healing. Despite that, he has found himself watching one of the healers as she’s running back and forth between beds. She’s been at it for hours now and Hvitserk begins to wonder how come she’s not tired yet. Her feet and hands are equally quick as they had been when they arrived at the camp after the battle. The mesmerising glint in her eyes, something between curiosity and adoration, is still just as bright. Whenever one of the wounded warriors wants to talk to her, she sits at the edge of their bed. Her head nods gently before her lips curl into a reassuring smile and she says something in return. Maybe she’ll even chuckle at something. From where he’s standing, Hvitserk can’t make out her words but he can quite clearly see the faces of the people she’s talking to and it makes his curiosity consume him entirely to know what words turn agony into peace.

Lost in his own thoughts, the young Viking doesn’t notice jarl Friedgeir approaching him.

“Enchanting, isn’t she?” he asks with a smirk. He’s seen this scenario one too many times to have any doubts about what Hvitserk is thinking about. Friedgeir himself has been in that very same position before.

Friedgeir Esrason is nimble for his age. White and silver hair circles his tired face like a halo. Sun-damaged skin makes him appear even older, although fuller of life. It’s a testimony of long days spent on adventures, seeing what the world has to offer. Despite nearing grandfather’s age, his torso is broad and his arms are about the size of a shieldmaiden’s thigh. Brass bracelets clink every time he moves his hands. The purple material of his tunic is clearly worn out, tearing in places of the most friction.

“She is,” Hvitserk admits.

Jarl puts his heavy hand on Hvitserk’s shoulder. For a moment, the young warrior wonders if Friedgeir could actually crush his bones should he squeeze his fingers a little tighter.

“Can I entrust a secret to you, son of Ragnar?” Friedgeir asks in a low tone. His grey eyes look around the two of them as though expecting to find a prying set of ears. Everyone besides them appeared too preoccupied with their own duties and worries to care about the gossip shared between the Jarl and the famous Lothbrok boy.

Hvitserk looks at the older man with a frown.

“My brothers and I have risked our lives for your cause, Jarl Friedgeir,” he reminds the ruler. “I have no interest in breaking your trust. You know that already.”

“Good.” Friedgeir pats Hvitserk’s shoulder. He must be unaware of his strength as the gentle slaps are actually quite forceful, making Hvitserk answer his own question about crushing bones. Friedgeir can definitely turn someone’s skeleton into dust with a squeeze. “My wife mustn’t ever hear what I’m about to tell you. That girl…” he makes a pause and points his finger at the healer, “I think she might be a bird.”

Taken aback, Hvitserk looks up and down the Jarl.

“Did the Swedes hit you on the head?” he asks half-heartedly.

“I wish it was that. But no.” Friedgeir laughs bitterly and shakes his head. A shadow of melancholy flies past his sun-damaged face only to reside inside his silver eyes as a teary glint. “I always knew there was something strange about her but I came to understanding only after seeing the great viziers of the East and their pets locked in golden cages.”

Hvitserk glances towards the healer. His eyes follow her like hawk in hopes of some enlightenment that would make Friedgeir’s words clearer to him. Alas, she appears as she did before - enticing and human.

He shakes his head.

“I don’t understand.”

The Jarl lets out a sigh.

“Just look, dear Hvitserk. See the colourful dress like a parrot’s feathers.” Hvitserk has never heard of something called a parrot, so he is left to assume that they must look nothing like the birds in Norway. “And look at men’s faces when she talks to them. Pain and suffering change into hope and peace. The only time I’ve seen that was when one of the viziers asked his angry guests to listen to his oriole singing. After an hour, no one remembered what they were fighting about.”

Time as if slows down as Hvitserk is watching the healer sit on the edge of a cot belonging to a dying man. She holds his hand tightly and tirelessly wipes cold sweat from his forehead. The warrior is stuttering, fever and pain making his wants incomprehensible. The woman sitting beside him only nods her head, offering a warm smile and a short response. Soon, the man falls limp. His eyes turn blank as his head rolls lifelessly to the side. The healer squeezes the corpse’s hand and only then gets up to continue her work. A pair of healthy warriors wrap up the body in blankets only to carry it away, to the place where a great pyre will burn after nightfall.

Hvitserk is more intelligent than the jarl. More perceptive. He’s seen geese flying southwards when winter was coming, only to come back after snow thaws. But not her - she stayed until the warriors’ skin turned cold and grey. Let go of dead hands only after the heart stopped, never earlier.

“She’s not a bird,” the young Lothbrok speaks up. Friedgeir looks at him curiously. “Can’t you see?” he asks with a chuckle on his tongue. “She must be a Valkyrie, leading fallen warriors to the gates of Odin's hall.”

The Jarl only nods slowly, pondering Hvitserk’s words.

“If she is, perhaps death isn’t a too high price to be by her side.”

But he’s too young to be this patient and Hvitserk has to find a reason to be beside her now.

You’re taken aback when someone suddenly takes the wooden crate from your hands. The unexpected helper reveals himself to be none other but Hvitserk with a playful grin on his face. Despite giving all he could in the battle, just hours prior, he appears to still be vigorous as though the fight was a mere warm-up.

The man puts the heavy crate on his shoulder, securing it with one arm. What has given you backpain and cold sweat, seems like no chore to him. The Ragnarsons really are a different strain.

“Where do you want this?” he asks casually.

“At the pyre.” You point in the vague direction of where the bodies will be burned. “Illness thrives within the old, used dressings.”

Hvitserk begins wandering to the place you have pointed out and, not sure why, you begin to follow him. His strides are long and sure, his breathing calm and steady. He hardly fits the image of a man who had to fight like a rabid dog to survive just earlier that day.

“Are you not tired afer the battle?” you ask him. Confusion slips past your words.

“I am.” Hvitserk glances at you. It’s a quick look but you manage to notice him staring you up and down. “But I thought you might need help. You’ve been tending to the wounded for hours.”

A melodic, light chuckle escapes your lips.

“You’ve been watching me?”

His playful half-grin turns into a genuine smile. Staring at the road ahead, he almost looks bashful.

“I have a habit of admiring enticing things,” Hvitserks admits.

You feel your cheeks burning at the nonchalant compliment but you don’t let him notice that. Neither do you let his sweet words distract you.

“Then you must lead a busy, beautiful life.”

The man’s voice seems faraway and absent as he answers, as though his mind is suddenly occupied with vivid daydreams:

“Not yet.”

The noise of the camp is inaudible now. Only pine trees and wild berries accompany Hvitserk and you. A murder of crows suddenly takes flight as you pass by. Their cawing echoes through the empty forest.

You can’t quite put a finger on this sensation but something about Hvitserk makes you feel warm and calm inside. It’s the same feeling one experiences when sitting in front of a warm hearth after spending long hours in the cold. When the blood begins flowing again and the relief of not freezing to death is forgotten, the warmth and safety make one sleepy and giddy. But how can a man make you feel the same as a fireplace on a cold night?

Hvitserk sets the crate down with a low thud. The sound shakes you awake from your thoughts. A strong, putrid smell of blood, fresh wood and animal fat fills your nostrils. Even after all those years, it never gets easier to prepare people for their final journey.

“Thank you,” you begin awkwardly. Some more anxious part of you is suddenly terrified that he will somehow learn of your thoughts about him. “I don’t know if I could have carried it by myself all the way here.”

His lips curve into a sly grin and you can tell he’s about to weave a string of charming words but something about him distracts you instantly. Hvitserk’s shirt, once greyish-beige, is now brown and crimson. Not thinking much, you suddenly grab his arm. He doesn’t even get a chance to protest when you roll up his sleeve to reveal a, re-opened wound.

“Your hand is bleeding,” you state.

Hvitserk is unsure whether your stern gaze scares him or excites.

“It’s nothing.”

He tries to roll his sleeve back down but you swat his arm away. Pushing down on his shoulder, you force him to sit down on the ground with you.

“Well, it’s definitely going to scar,” you say quietly as you inspect the deep cut in his skin. “But the good news is, some women like men with scars. I know I do.”

You take out a sewing needle made from animal bone. For practicality, you’re used to wearing it pinned somewhere in your clothing. After all, one can never know when they might need it like when a handsome, charming Viking suddenly needs his wound stitched. Gods work in mysterious ways, truly…

A drop of blood drips from the wound each time you push the needle through the pale skin. Hvitserk is impressively collected - he only grunts a few times and clenches his teeth.

“All done,” you whisper more to yourself than him. In a quick, mechanical manner you wipe the skin of his arm again and roll down the sleeve of his shirt.

You’re standing up when Hvitserk decides he’s not quite done being the apple of your eye:

“How hurt does a man have to be for you to stay around longer?”

As though he didn’t just get stabbed eigh times in his cut and bruised arm, he’s staring at you with than same insufferable mischieviousness that you’ve grown to love so much. Sometimes you wonder whether this is exactly the reason he’s never had trouble charming women.

“A broken rib would do it,” you say with a shrug. “Or you could just ask.”

Suddenly, Hvitserk jumps to his feet. A newfound fire is burning inside him - a flame known only to those, whose affections are returned.

“Please?”

Jokingly, you frown at him.

“I didn’t know the Lothbroks knew such words,” you say in a surprised tone.

You feel his fingers dragging up your arm until his palm gently brushes against your cheek. The skin of his hand is dry and calloused, standing in a stark opposition to its owner.

“We hold it for special occasions.” Hvitserk’s voice is low, almost raspy.

“And me standing here is somehow special?”

“You don’t even know,” he whispers. His breath is hot against your cheeks. But how can a man make you feel the same as a fireplace on a cold night?

“Then tell me.”

At that moment, he knows he will have his entire life to remind you just how special you are to him; he will have his whole saga to love a Valkyrie.

#vikings #vikings tv series #vikings x reader #vikings imagine #vikings fanfiction #hvitserk ragnarsson #hvitserk #hvitserk fanfiction #hvitserk x reader #hvitserk x you #vikings hvitserk #hvitserk imagine #hvitserk lothbrok #hvitserk fanfic #vikings x you

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lomlhwa · 1 year

Text

i can't take it (c.sb)

pairing: student!soobin x tutor!reader

preview: if soobin wasn't failing korean history, he never would've met you. he doesn't know whether it would've been better that way or not. all he does know is that, you wouldn't be on top of him right now if he was passing.

tags/warnings: hard dom!fem reader, sub!soobin, bondage, lots of grinding, 69, fingering, handjob + blowjob, a couple slaps across the face for soobin, degrading (reader is MEAN but soobin is into it), praise, pet names (mommy, momma, mistress), edging, overstimulation, f & m orgasms, unprotected penetration (wrap it before you tap it), belly bulge kink, size kink, creampie

trigger warnings: reader is really mean but it's all in the name of pleasure i swear

wc: 2.6k

song recs for this fic: scar by the boyz, chained up by vixx, baby don't stop by nct u, ridin' by nct dream

a/n: this is 2/2 fics dedicated to @toxicccred <3 i really hope you like this subby soob fic. i'm sorry if the random korean war facts in the middle of the smut is weird, it was part of the story T-T

then…

korean history is soobin’s worst class despite literally being korean. he’s not good at memorizing dates or people’s names. his history classes in general are not his forte.

hell, the only thing he’s managed to remember from this class is the name of the pretty girl that sits at the front of the class and always has her hand up.

“y/n,” the teacher says, interrupting soobin’s train of thought with the name of the exact person he was thinking of. “please, enlighten the class with the right answer to my question.”

soobin can see you nod, the smile on your face shining all the way to his back row seat.

“the korean war was fought between north and south korea following clashes along the border and rebellions in the south. said war began on june 25th, 1950,” mr park smiles at you. his favorite student. the undeniably pretty teacher’s pet.

“can you repeat what y/n said, mr choi?” the teacher calls up to soobin, once again snapping him out of a bored daze. you turn around to look at him, catching him off guard.

“t-the korean war was between t-the north and s-south over rebellions and border c-clashes,” he stumbles over his words, avoiding looking at you while he speaks. he knows what you said. he always listens when you speak.

“and when did it begin, soobin,” mr park pressed on. “o-on j-june 25th, 1950,” the teacher, now obviously satisfied with borderline humiliating soobin, goes back to his lesson. you almost feel bad for him.

by the end of class, you’d answered every single one of mr park’s questions and he had tormented soobin to repeat what you had said every time. he honestly wanted to disappear.

“soobin, please stay after class” the teacher says as the bell rings. he sighs and gathers his things before walking up to the front of the class.

“you do realize you’re failing, right?” mr park says as soon as soobin is standing in front of him. soobin nods. “ 43% in my class is not going to get you this credit, soobin. you need to start paying attention and doing the work or i’ll have to fail you-” his rant is interrupted by a sudden knock on the door.

he mumbles a ‘come in’ and you peek your lovely little head into the classroom. he almost finds himself smiling in your presence. you smile at the teacher before sauntering into the class.

“i’m sorry, i couldn’t help but overhear that soobin is failing your class, mr park” you make a fake sad noise at the teacher. he laughs and nods. “i could tutor him” soobin’s eyes widen. he swears that they almost fell out of his head in shock.

“that is a wonderful idea, y/n. what a kind offer,” you smile at soobin, finally forcing him to really acknowledge you. “what do you think?” soobin nods hesitantly at you.

“words, soobin,” your statement almost sounds like a command. it sends chills through his body. “yes, i would appreciate your help.” mr park clasps his hands together and sighs.

“if you don’t get your grade up with y/n’s help, i will fail you,” the teacher threatened. soobin gulped before darting for the door to get to his next class, which he was 15 minutes late for.

now…

soobin fiddles with his fingers, sitting at your desk in your bedroom. you’re getting a sheet of paper out from your bag and he can’t help but peek into your shirt as you’re bent down.

“okay, soobie, how many times was seoul captured during the korean war?” you ask him. it’s his weekly quiz on everything you’ve tutored him on. your midterm exams are coming up and soobin needs to pass.

“uhhh, 4 times?” you nod before reading over your question sheet again. you came across a question soobin consistently got incorrect. a question that would for sure be on your exam.

“when did the fighting end and what signified the end?” you cock your eyebrow at him. you’re going to be very upset if he gets this wrong. you’ve done nothing but go over it for the past week.

“20th of july, 1953 and i don’t know what signified it,” soobin looks defeated as you shake your head in disappointment.

“you really can’t do anything right, can you? can you answer a question correctly?” are you… berating him? it feels like something deeper than that to him. it feels somehow dirtier.

“are you too busy staring down my shirt to fucking listen to me when i speak, soobin?” it is something deeper. you’re not berating him, you’re degrading him.

“is that what your problem is, you stupid slut?” you pull your shirt over your head and glare at him. “are these all you’re interested in?” you grab him by the hair and shove his face between your breast. “is this what you wanted from me? did you really think i wouldn’t notice your glances?”

soobin’s eyes roll into the back of his head as you speak to him. who knew that such mean, degrading words could come out of your pretty mouth? he can feel the tent in his pants getting bigger and tighter every time a sentence comes out of you.

“i knew you’d wanted me to fuck you since we met. i saw the way you looked at me every time i walked into class,” soobin flushes red. he thought he’d been discreet.

you pull his head away from your chest and connect your lips. you get up off your chair, grabbing soobin by the collar and leading him to your bed. you disconnect for a moment so you can tell him to sit on your bed. you settle yourself in his lap, your core hovering directly over his bulge.

you reconnect your lips in a messy clash of tongues and pools of saliva. you suck on his bottom lip before biting it lightly. you rock your hips back and forth on his growing bulge. he tilts his head back and lets out a deep groan.

“you’re fucking pathetic, you know that?” you say as you crawl down your bed. you gesture for him to undo the button and zipper on his jeans. you tug them down his legs before tugging his underwear down too.

when you take in his full size, your mouth gapes in shock. he’s massive. you can barely wrap your hand around it fully. how is this size even naturally possible?

you take your own pants and underwear off before crawling back up to him. you plant a fat kiss on his lips before flipping around and hovering your core over his face. you come face to face with his length, the tip red and dripping precum.

you wrap your hand around him the best you can before leaning down and swirling your tongue around the tip. he wraps his arms around your thighs and connects his lips to your sopping cunt. he sucks on it lightly as you pump him at a slow pace.

“what a whore. this hard for your tutor? embarrassing,” you pump him faster and he groans against your core. you lean down again and take as much of him down your throat as you can before gagging. the constriction of your throat makes soobin’s head spin.

you bob your head up and down, trying to take more of him with each pass of your lips. he pulls his mouth away from you and adds his fingers instead. his hips begin to stutter as you pump him along with sucking on him.

“when did the korean war end?” you say, out of the blue. soobin’s eyes fly open, looking at the ceiling. “fuck, i don’t know momma,” you shake your head, disappointed once again. you let go of his length completely and listen to him whine in protest. he was so close.

“whores don’t get to cum until they know the answer,” you reach behind yourself and push his face back to your core. “think about it and make your mistress cum,” you let go of his head and he loses himself in you.

he slurps up your leaking juices. his tongue focusing on your throbbing clit. his nose brushes your hole every once in a while, sending your head spinning. he teases your dripping hole with his fingers, but never fully sinking them in.

you’re shaking and racing towards your orgasm faster than you expected. soobin’s mouth is more talented than you could’ve ever anticipated. soon enough, you’re spilling yourself onto his tongue.

you get off his face and grab his cheeks. “give me the fucking right answer,” you demand. he shakes his head. he really doesn’t know. “dumb slut,” you harshly slap him across the face, but not too hard. soobin’s length twitches at the harsh contact.

you reach into your bedside table and pull out purple ribbon. you unravel two longer parts and grab one of soobin’s hands. you use one of the parts to tie his hand to your headboard, making a cute little bow on his wrist. you repeat the same process on his other wrist.

“what a pretty little bitch, all tied up for me,” you kiss him again. “do you like your cute little bows, whore?” he nods and struggles against his restraints as your brush your hand over his cock lightly. he whines against your mouth when you grip him, pumping ever so slowly.

“i’m gonna quiz you again. every right answer, i’ll go faster. one wrong answer and i’ll stop. don’t fuck up,” you explain. soobin nods hesitantly. he should’ve paid more attention. now, he’ll really have to rack his brain.

“who was the leader of south korea during the korean war?” you halt your hand completely until he answers. “syngman rhee,” he mutters just loud enough for you to hear.

“good boy,” you slowly move your hand again before asking another question. “who was the leader of north korea during the korean war?” soobin pulls against his restraints, your pace driving him insane.

“kim il sung,” another right answer. you pick up the pace again, causing soobin to curse under his breath. he bucks his hips up into your hand, needing more.

“two more questions, slut,” you sigh, rolling your eyes at his desperation. “how many war fatalities?” he should know this one. he always gets this type of question right.

“3 m-million,” correct again. your hand begins a much faster pace. soobin is beginning to lose his mind. his orgasm creeping up on him faster than he’d like. too fast. you’d never let him cum already.

“last one,” you give him a sweet smile. a demonstration of kindness that feels foreign in this situation. “when. did. the. korean. war. end?” you emphasize each word with a hard tug on his length. he knew that’s what you were going to ask.

“july 27th, 1953,” finally. the right answer. you’re over the moon. you speed up just slightly, really smiling at him this time. “good boy. good fucking boy,” he throws his head back, his hips stuttering.

“momma, k-k-kiss m-me, please,” he asked so nicely that you couldn’t resist. you kiss him softly in comparison to your fast pace on his length. his breathing significantly picks up by the minute. you know he’s close.

“cum for me, slut,” you demand. he nods. shooting pathetic ropes of cum all over your hand and his stomach. but, your hand doesn’t stop. you continue your merciless pace. he takes his lips away from yours to cry out at the overstimulation.

“ah! t-too much, mommy,” you scoff at him. “pathetic behavior from a pathetic slut. i know you can give me another one,” your hand quickens again. soobin’s eyes roll back so hard it almost hurts.

when he re-opens them, you’re licking the drying cum off his stomach. his second orgasm hits almost instantly, this time also dirtying your hair in the process. he whines loudly, wishing his hands were free to cover his mouth.

you finally let go of his cock, giving him some time to catch his breath. embarrassment finally hits him. his high pitched whines, the names he called you, those were completely out of his control.

out of nowhere, your mouth is next to his ear. he can feel your hot breath against his skin. “can i take you raw, soobie?” he just about chokes on his own saliva at your question. he nods. “please do, momma.”

you settle your knees on either side of his hips. you lift up slightly to slide him into you. you sink down slowly, the stretch stinging your core. soobin gnaws on his lip as you take him in fully. he can slowly see the outline of himself in your stomach. he desperately wants to reach out and brush his hand on it.

once he’s fully sheathed in you, you just sit there for a moment. you feel like he’s in your organs, his tip practically kissing your cervix. you almost feel like you’re going to explode.

“p-please move, mistress,” your hips move on their own at the title. you nod. you place your hands on his ribs for balance. you lift your hips up before slamming back down. soobin sinks his teeth into his bottom lip, mesmerized by the way you look on top of him.

you set a steady pace riding him, making sure not to press on his ribs too hard. soon, your legs start to cramp and your pace slows down. you’re losing your high and so is soobin.

“lemme help you, mommy,” he pulls at his restraints again. you’re too sore to complain so you untie soobin’s cute little purple bows. he massages his wrists for a moment before turning his full attention back to you.

he places his hands on your hips before snapping his hips up into yours. he manages to set a merciless pace, thrusting up into you. you collapse onto him, wrapping your arms around his neck, panting into his ear.

“momma, gonna cum. please can i cum?” he begs. you nod into his neck. “cum inside me, baby. gonna cum for you too,” you shove your face into his neck more as your orgasm crashes over you.

the way you clench around him, your moans in his ear and all his pent up energy makes him release into you. he pumps into you with 4 pathetic shots. the warmth of him filling you up calms you down.

you get up off him slowly, his cum dripping out of your cunt and staining your bedsheets. you scramble off your bed to grab wet cloths. you come back and place one on soobin’s forehead to cool him down. he hadn’t even realized how hot he’d become. you use the other cold, wet cloth to clean off his stomach and clean yourself.

“i wasn’t too harsh, was i?” you ask, kissing soobin softly all over his face. he shakes his head. “you were perfect, momma.”

“if you fail your exam, i’m gonna be so much worse.”

exam result day…

you grab your result folder from your professor before walking over to soobin. you clasp your hands together and walk to your house hand in hand.

as soon as you walk in, you head for your living room.

you open your results first. 98%. a high grade as expected. you’re satisfied with this result.

soobin’s turn to open his folder. 45%. a fail.

he glances up at you in fear. you scoff in his direction. you gesture down the hall, basically just telling him to get up and walk his ass to your bedroom.

he knows what’s coming.

#lomlhwa #txt #tomorrow x together #soobin #choi soobin #txt smut #tomorrow x together smut #soobin smut #choi soobin smut

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