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#When the rest is just The Same As The Original But Worse
muffinlance · 2 months
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I'm barely to the massacre and I can already tell I'm going to be screaming at every this-makes-no-sense decision made by the writers (your temple is under violent attack, and you evacuate the kids... to a barely enclosed corner in a prominent temple room? Instead of to the hundreds of sky bison that were highlighted as flying in earlier? Why?) (And Aang left to clear his head and think instead of to run from his duties? That's such a less compelling plot arc?) (And the show had him briefly monologue about being a goofy kid who loves pies and his friends instead of using the extended temple scene to show any of that? Didn't want to pay more child actors, did you, Netflix?)
Yeah I'm just. Going to be screaming at the screen instead of enjoying this. Different decisions aren't necessarily bad, but when those decisions seem to be in the direction of "show a man burning alive before we even get to the on-screen massacre" this is just... not the show for me.
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rugessnome · 1 year
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B/
I hate this canon (affectionate) but what I really loathe is the expectation to emotionally process new additions that I won't like (derogatory)
#tfw i am just. so. contemptuous of an ongoing canon grrrrrrrr#me reading summaries of Dooku Jedi Lost: you are copying the Darth Plagueis(novel) homework just altering it#me: *Tenth Doctor voice* hate Planet of the Hats. most of the time.#me: that is to say WHY must you backstrapolate that all ancestors are vaguely sinister#me (re Ramil): why the fuck is EVERY-freaking-BODY into racing? why couldn't he have a Different hobby like#model trains or amoebas or bagpipes or extreme ironing or cat photography or sprouting or bookbinding?! ...#me: I do not believe this is how the concept of count works this could be actually worse than Is There A College IN YOUR COUNTY?#(he's gotta be like... ahem. “Fifth in line for the throne” technically. it's just the rest of the succession is ~defunct. shhhh)#... you've lost touch with the original PT This Is How Anakin 🙂 Falls...#*bared teeth* jedi propaganda#(I think I could better like a crack fic where his “brother” is. hell. a cricketing Valeyard and he is technically from a different planet#*cough* Shparoi *cough* except his only contact with its famous export is they once both touched the same goose by incredible coincidence#*checks notes* technically and philosopically Yes connected but of Insignificant magnitude granddaughter Rey)#this started when Rakkety Tam was the most recent book I could procure. far more calmly with But It Won't Be As Special#after I um. ficced wildly for certain characters#'S absolutely full fledged very much how I have felt practically always about H/P after I read as far as I could then#loved the fic community but! I didn't have to care for very long if they Got My Blorbos All Wrong#bc you see they don't have the power to far-reaching wreck canon or go ardently transphobic and claim fandom of#books that scarcely address the topic is support for it :/#I do not feel like I Can Fan Correctly! 🙃
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skzdarlings · 2 months
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bets and situations ; skz ; minho x reader
original ask: requested by anonymous: minho and “is that how you usually get out of these situations? by fucking your way out of them?” please
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pairing: lee minho/reader content info: rivals to lovers. street racing. stubborn!reader. placing bets, betting sex (still explicit consent), fucking vs making love. outdoor sex. sex on a car. explicit sexual content. word count: 3400 words.
masterlist. part of the valentine’s day stories series. credit to prompts. requests are closed.
enjoy! <3
-
Sure, you are a little insufferable. 
But Lee Minho is worse. 
He carries himself with an elitist pomposity, like he is above the other drivers just because he once raced professionally.  Trophies or not, he is out here with the rest of you, illegally racing cars down desert roads, placing bets in the dead of night. 
You were content until this fucker came along.  Lee Minho and the stupid pretty face that won him fan clubs and brand deals.  Ugh.  You hate him for having that life and for giving it up when it is a fantasy for you.  The world of professional racing is notoriously hostile to women.  You admit there is a tinge of bitterness on your side of every interaction, but he goads you like an asshole.    
He arrives with his usual entourage.  A couple of them are racers, though not professionals, and a couple just spectate and mind his vehicle.  He has a nice car, almost as pretty as him.
You whistle as he approaches.  He looks at you with his usual exasperation, delicate features pinched with annoyance.  His hair was a vibrant red in his racing days, quite the act of showmanship, but it’s a natural dark brown now, framing his mean, stupid, handsome face.
“Hey, pretty boy,” you say.  “Finally gonna grow a pair and race me?”
His scowl turns to a bitchy little sneer.  He laughs sarcastically. 
“Not worth the mileage,” he says.  He shoulders past you, his leather jacket against your denim.  “Winning against a little girl does nothing for my massive ego.”  He says this with a sarcastic flourish, mocking your derision of him. 
You know the comment is a deliberately cheap shot.  Unfortunately, in reality, Minho is the least chauvinist racer you have ever met, treating the women here with the same basic dignity as the men.
It’s just you he hates, because you hate him too.   It was inevitable.  You were hostile when first meeting.  You challenged him to a few too many personal races.  You were a sore loser and even worse winner.  What started as an effort to prove something spiralled into a rivalry. 
You won the last couple races.  You gloated a little too hard and now he is refusing to race you again. 
“Sure,” you say.  “Sounds to me like you’re scared to lose for the third time in a row.” 
He just keeps walking, ignoring you, which is so much more infuriating than when he snaps back. 
You decide to keep your distance tonight.  If you continue to agitate yourself, you are going to develop a stress aneurysm.   So you keep to your own group, race your own races, and collect your own winnings. 
But, ugh.
He is right there. 
Just in the corner of your eye, just skirting the periphery of your space, just breathing the same night air.  When you are looking at him, he captivates you.  When you look away, he is like an impossible itch, begging for your attention again.  You constantly catch him looking at you too, which does not help matters. 
By the end of the night, you feel like a live wire, all electricity and unbound energy.  Not a single race has satisfied you.  You won three of four, making way more money than you lost, but it is not enough.  It is never enough.  You already know how good you are.  You know you can beat most of these guys blindfolded. 
Your only perfect match is Lee Minho.  The only victory that matters is that one. 
As the crowd disperses and everyone departs, you march towards him.  He is saying goodbye to his crewmates, his back to you, but his buddy cracks a grin when he sees you coming.  He smacks Minho on the shoulder before turning away. 
Minho turns around with a befuddled look on his face.  When he sees you, it slackens to that unamused vexation.  He pockets his hands in his leather jacket and slouches against his car.  He shakes his head as you stomp up to him. 
“One race,” you say. 
“No,” he replies, without missing a beat. 
“Why not?”
“Because I said so,” is his insufferable reply.
“That’s not an answer,” you say.
“That’s too bad.”  He gives you a final shrug then turns, opening his car door, preparing to leave. 
“Wait,” you say. 
You heart is racing.  Somehow, you feel like tonight is different from every other night.  Maybe it is the perfect crispness on the breeze, the remarkably clear sky, or maybe just the way those jeans seem to hug his thighs.  Stupid hottie.  You will have him and his attention.  You will get the better of him, one way or another.  It was all leading to this. 
“One race,” you say.  “A bet worth the mileage.” 
“I don’t need your money,” he says.
“I’m not offering money,” you reply. 
Finally, he closes the car door.  He sighs, a very loud and dramatic sigh, like you are the biggest inconvenience on earth. 
“What are you offering?” he says, facing you.  The disinterest in his tone is betrayed by the curious sweep of his gaze, an up-and-down perusal like he expects to find his prize somewhere on your body. 
Oh.
You feel flushed inside, realizing that it exactly what he is thinking.  Looking at you with a hungry, lecherous gaze, anticipating you are about to offer up yourself as a potential prize. 
It makes your heart stutter and your lips do the same, your next words all tangled up on your tongue.  It did not even occur to you to offer such a thing.  You hate him, so of course you would never think about him that way.  But now that he is looking at you like that, his expression coloured with interest and suggestion, you find yourself too shocked to even parse your feelings. 
The only thing that is obvious, abundantly obvious, is the punch of heat in your gut.  No, lower.  Heat that curls up inside you and makes you second guess.  Heat that is curious about the look in his eye. 
Then you shake your head.  You resist the urge to smack him for throwing you off.  You were in control and now you are flustered. 
“Not me,” you snap. 
His eyes, which have made their way down your whole body, follow the same path up.  He meets your gaze eventually.  Then he says nothing, because he is the worst, and just lifts an eyebrow at you. 
“My car,” you say, with no-nonsense finality.  “I bet my car.” 
He blinks at you.  Long, slow blinks like a cat.   It takes him a second to find a sentence. 
“Your car,” he says.  He tilts his head and squints, looking at you with scrutiny, like he is trying to see through your ploy.  “And what do you want if you win?” 
“Admit I’m the better driver once and for all,” you say.  The words feel a little foolish leaving your mouth.  You have been chasing the high of that confession, aggravated every time he dodged it, but saying it out loud makes you feel needy.  You clear your throat and stand straight like you are unbothered.  “That’s all I want,” you say.
He rubs a hand across his jaw, laughs incredulously, then swings his arms out at his sides. 
“Fine,” he says.
By now, everyone else has gone.  It is just you and him under the streetlights, the long empty road stretched across the dunes ahead.   You stare at one another, like there is no road and no sky, no world at all outside each other.  It is intense and all-consuming.   
You hold out a hand.  He takes it and yanks you closer to him.
“I would have told you that for free,” he says.  “Since it’s the truth.  You just had to ask.”
Now it is your turn to blink, looking at him with shock.  You would have been less stupefied if he called you a tirade of rude names, or tried to weave doubts in your mind.  Instead, he smiles at you, and it is not half as smarmy as usual.  He drops your hand and turns away, leaving you gawking at the air as he ducks into his car. 
He honks the horn, snapping you to attention. 
The heat rushes back in a hurry.  You swallow, then walk to your car on suddenly shaky legs. 
-
He wins.
Of course he wins.
You were distracted by his parting words.  You and him are so closely matched in skill that a fleeting weakness is all it takes for one to overtake the other.  You were faring well at the start, but his engine revved and your attention strayed.  Your prize was somewhat nullified by his confession, your behaviour embarrassing in hindsight.  You bet your car.  What were you thinking?
You weren’t.  And it was all his fault.   
Your car skids to a screaming halt just seconds after him.  You smack the steering wheel with frustration. 
Maybe I should have just bet my body, you think to yourself, a thought that has you shivering from something other than adrenaline.  Thoughts like that are not like you.  And Lee Minho is the last man on earth you could ever want.  Even though he is simultaneously the only man you want, or at least the only one with an opinion that matters, the only man whose attention you ever want.  He is always the highlight of your night. 
Oh god, you think with a nervous twist in your gut, I like that arrogant loser. 
Facing him is hard and it has nothing to do with losing your car. 
He is not gloating because he is not the type.  He is just leaning against his vehicle with his arms crossed, watching your nerves and passion get the better of you.  He does not flinch when you get right in his face, huffing from exertion.
“Do-over,” you say.
“Absolutely not,” he replies. 
“You got in my head on purpose.” 
“I can only do that if you let me in,” he says, looking smug.
“One more race,” you insist. 
“You have nothing left to bet.”
“Me,” you blurt.  “I bet myself.” 
You feel some satisfaction at the flicker of surprise that creases his brow, but then he is just staring and blinking again.  Your heart still thinks it is in a race, stampeding so far ahead that your whole body is awash with heat. 
“You,” he finally says.  His tongue darts out to wet his bottom lip, then he tilts his head in that studious way. “What does that mean?” 
You feel so hot it is making you a little woozy.  It’s just aftershocks from the race, you tell yourself, even though that heat comes from somewhere much more intimate. 
You cross your arms stubbornly.  You look away.  You even stomp your foot. 
“You know what I fucking mean,” you snap. 
“Is that how you usually get out of these situations?” he asks in a teasing tone.  “By fucking your way out of them?”
You refuse to answer.  You arms are still crossed, your face still turned.   
He touches your chin, a painfully delicate touch.  Whenever you do fuck someone, it is hard and fast, like everything else you enjoy.  Your greatest rival should be touching you with the roughest touch of all, but it is the very opposite.   It is a suggestion of a touch, little more than a caress as he turns your face to his.  You swallow until the intense focus of his sharp eyes. 
“I don’t fuck like that,” he says.  He bats his pretty eyelashes while smirking like a devil.  “I don’t have to make bets.  I make love to people because they want it.  Sorry.”  He rolls his eyes and turns away, wiggling his fingers in a sarcastic good-bye wave as he slides into his driver seat.  “You can keep your car.  I don’t want or need it.  Good night.” 
You put yourself between the door and car, stopping him from closing it.  He looks at you, eyes narrowed more intensely. 
“Now, now,” he says. 
“I’m a big girl,” you snap.  “I don’t need you protecting my honour.  I wouldn’t offer to let you fuck me if I didn’t mean it.” 
He stares at you, contemplative behind those dark eyes.  He has just returned your vehicle so you have no reason to make another bet, other than to prove the veracity of your previous offer: that you do want to fuck him, even if you don’t want to admit it.
“I told you that you can keep your car,” he says. 
You are amazed smoke is not blowing out of your ears, considering how hot your face feels. 
“I heard you,” you say. 
He gets out of the car slowly, holding your gaze the entire time.  You take a step back. 
Then he walks at you, which forces you to take another backwards step.  Step by step across the tarmac.  The breeze tousles a bit of his hair, but nothing stops his stride and his eyes never leave yours. 
You find it difficult to catch your breath.  Garnering this man’s undivided attention has been your only goal for months, and the reality of it is heady.  He is intoxicating. 
It seems the feeling is reciprocated, given how he looks at you, which just makes you stumble in your backwards trek.  He catches your wrist, tugging you upright, yanking you closer.  You collide with his chest, disoriented from so little. 
“So,” he says.  “If you win, we fuck.  And if I win, we make love.  Is that correct?” 
“Whatever, there’s no difference,” you say.  You are instinctively combative when flustered, redirecting the source of your embarrassment to confrontation. 
It seemingly works.  His attention diverts and he says, “Yes, there is.”
“No, there isn’t.” 
“Yes, there—”  He stops himself from retaliating with the same childish rejoinder.  He props his hands on his hips, shaking his head at himself as he stares up at the stars.   
Eventually he huffs, rakes his teeth over his bottom lip, then looks at you. 
“Fine,” he says.  “We’ll race.” 
Your heart is already revving like an engine.  You take another couple steps back to smirk at him triumphantly.  You walk right into your car, that smug face dropping in surprise.  It gives him the opportunity to crowd you against it, planting his hands on either side of your head.  You hold your breath. 
“You have to pass my test first,” he says. 
“Excuse me!”  Your own incredulity resounds.  You smack his chest but he does not move. 
“It’s just two questions,” he says.  “You’re a smart girl.  You’ll figure it out.” 
He is tormenting you.  You hate him.  You hope he never stops. 
“Fine,” you snap.  His smirk makes your whole belly swoop with anticipation. 
“Good,” he says, then stands back. 
You hold his stare, refusing to show any weakness.  At least you can catch your breath in the space between you. 
Then he says, “Get on your knees.” 
Your legs are already shaky – from nerves, from the dwindling adrenaline of your race.  There are a lot of reasons your knees buckle.  Plenty of explanations for why you do not hesitate, sinking to your knees right there on the road. 
Your gaze drops, flustered by his demand and your response.  You look at his shoes, all black, well-worn, scuffing the tarmac as he steps towards you. 
“Now tell me,” he says, then gathers a fistful of your hair and yanks your head back.  He meets your gaze as he says, “Is this fucking or making love?”
Then his fingers are in your mouth.  You let him in without any hesitation, like your whole body is instinctively attuned to his.  His grip is firm, his fingers relentless, undoubtedly fucking your mouth with the sloppy, mean thrust you would expect from an enemy.  Still, it feels good, unbelievably so, your mouth wet and hot and his fingers sliding over your tongue, the soft suction of your lips making his eyes blaze and his throat bob as he swallows. 
When he slides out, a trail of spit connects his fingers to your lips.  Your lips quiver with a shuddering breath. 
“Well?” he says. 
You swallow, but eventually manage a weak, “Fucking.” 
“Good,” he says, grinning that wicked grin.  “That’s one out of two.  How about this one?” 
He drops to his knees.  You are face-to-face now, kneeling on the road in the dead of night.  There are no witnesses to this scene except maybe the stars, the clear night revealing all your secrets. 
His face is as open, his expression suddenly so devastatingly soft and vulnerable.   Your breath stutters before he even moves.  He cups your cheeks with both hands and draws you to him.
Your eyes close when your lips touch.  He strokes his thumbs across your cheeks and licks into your mouth with decadent slowness, like he wants to savour every second of your taste.  Your mouths move together like they were made for each other, never racing too far ahead. A perfect give-and-take. 
When he stops, you feel dizzy and bereft, but only for a second.   He cups your jaw and tilts your face just so, then his fingers are parting your tender lips and the taste of him is on your tongue once more.  Your eyes close and you moan thoughtlessly, bobbing your head to the gentle rhythm he sets. 
“This,” he says in a feathery-light voice.
You shiver as he slowly withdraws his fingers.  He wipes his thumb across your lips to clean you.  You let him cup your chin and tilt your face, this time so he can look you in the eye. 
“Tell me what we’re doing,” he says.   
The suggestion makes you throb.  You are hot and aching when you admit, “Making love.”
“Good,” he says, then pecks your lips before rolling onto the balls of his feet and shooting upright.  “Now we can race.” 
-
It is a perfect draw. 
You are both distracted.  When you slam on the brakes in the same place at the same moment, it is with a singular purpose in mind. 
Doors slam.  You meet in the space between your vehicles. 
“I won,” you say, just to be argumentative. 
He is shrugging out of his jacket.  It his the ground.  He does not break his stride, already going for his belt.  Your knees nearly buckle again. 
“Fine,” he replies.  “Then get over here.  I’m fucking you on the hood of my car.” 
Fucking you is exactly what he does.  It is not making love.  He strips you methodically, your jacket and shirt and bra.  Your jeans get shoved down past your knees and he bends you over the hood, still warm from the purring engine.  You are hot and frantic, cheek pressed to the hood of your rival’s car while he works you open and shoves himself inside you. 
You make a sharp sound then a low moan, hands plastered to the hot hood.  He fucks you like he races you, without holding anything back because he knows you can take him. 
It feels as primal as a race, the animal instinct that conquers you in a rush of adrenaline.  It is your singular focus, the steady thud of him inside you.  You do not care about appearances, about seeming ridiculous, meeting every thrust and moan with your own.  He sounds good and feels better, your bodies in harmony, chasing each other to the finish line. 
He yanks you up, your back arching as he turns your head for a kiss.  It puts you over, clenching hard around him, setting him off.  He makes a soft sound then groans with pleasure.  He stays there for a minute, both of you breathing hard.
“I want you to keep your car,” he finally speaks, “because I need you to come back tomorrow and race me again.” 
You gasp when his hand moves between your legs, working you up again, slowly but surely.   
“Because next time I’ll win,” he says.  “You sounded so good getting fucked.  I want to see your face when you come on my cock again and again from making love.”
“Won’t happen,” you say, even while your on the cusp of doing just that. 
“Mm,” he says, then laughs that light, evil laugh as you come all over his hand.  He kisses the side of your head and says, “Wanna bet?” 
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nahoney22 · 1 month
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Now or Never***
Hunter X F!Reader
word count: 2.5k
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When Hunter spontaneously kisses you before he goes camping with the others whilst you look after the ship, your mind is set aflame. Both of you think about it and it's either now or never to see if there is a spark there.
warnings: warnings: Not exactly NSFW but is very steamy so 17+ only please. Spontaneous and accidental kiss, making out, brief breast touching, touchy touchy, non established relationship, female reader, mutual pining, friends to lovers, first kiss, one curse word.
authors note: a request for my lovely friend 🤍
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"Have you made sure you've packed your canteen, sleeping bag, and comm device?" You stood observing Omega meticulously arranging her belongings in preparation for a camping excursion with her brothers, ensuring she's equipped for the night ahead.
The idea was originally proposed by Wrecker, who eagerly suggested taking Omega on a camping adventure in the wilderness, a proposition unanimously agreed upon by the others—except for you. Camping wasn't exactly your preferred activity.
"Yes, yes, and yes again," Omega confirms, playfully rolling her eyes before turning to you with a smile. "You're worse than Hunter AND Crosshair combined."
You chuckle and kneel down to Omega's level. "I'm not that bad," you tease, tousling her hair affectionately before rising to your feet. "But do be cautious, alright? Don't go picking berries unless you're certain about them."
"I'm not about to repeat Wrecker's mistake," Omega giggles, both of you sharing a fond recollection of the time his hunger led him to inadvertently consume toxic berries, resulting in a nasty rash.
"Are you absolutely certain you can't be persuaded to join us?" Hunter speaks and as you turn to him, you watch as he adjusts his backpack in readiness for the night ahead.
"I'll be fine. Besides, someone needs to stay behind to look after Gonky and the ship," you reply, giving the droid a reassuring pat as it waddles past. "I'll also tidy up around here. I wanna make sure it's neat and tidy for when you return."
A warm smile spreads across Hunter's face as he looks at you, a gesture that has become increasingly frequent lately. "Well, if you insist. Feel free to contact me if you require assistance."
'Me'? Not 'us'?’ you silently ponder, feeling a slight warmth tint your cheeks. "And the same goes for you. Stay safe out there and don't wander off."
"Can we get going before we lose light?" Crosshair interjects with a snarl, positioning himself between you and Hunter with an almost knowing look, as if he's aware of your burgeoning feelings for a particular Sergeant.
Hunter clears his throat, shooting a warning glare at his brother, who momentarily smirks before disembarking the ship, followed by the others. However, Hunter lingers back for a moment, his gaze lingering on you. "Are you sure you're going to be okay?"
"Why the sudden protectiveness?" You raise a brow, accompanied by a smirk, though you can't help but feel a flutter of anticipation in your chest.
"Just making sure," he reassures, offering another soft smile. "The others seem excited. It's been a while since we've done something like this."
Your heart swells at the sight of him finding peace, even if just for a moment. No empire, no war—just rest. "Well, stop lingering and get going before you lose the others," you prompt, playfully nudging his side with your arm, your touch lingering for just a moment longer than necessary.
"Alright, alright. I'll see you tomorrow," he responds, but as he turns to leave, a brief moment of unexpected stillness descends. Without warning, Hunter reaches out and holds your waist, pulling you gently toward him, and kisses you.
You don’t even have time to react because he pulls back abruptly, eyes wide with shock, and you find yourself mirroring his astonishment.
He quickly releases you, running a clammy hand over the back of his neck. "I... I don't know why I did that."
"O-okay," you breathe shakily, trying to steady your racing heart as you nervously fiddle with your fingers, your mind reeling from the unexpected intimacy.
"Sorry, I..." he trails off, meeting your gaze once more, his expression a mix of anxiousness and apology.
You gaze back at him, feeling the rapid rhythm of your heart almost deafening in the silence between you. "No, it's okay," you manage to exhale shakily, taking a small step back, needing the space to collect your thoughts. "Y-you should really get going."
He nods in understanding, but you can't shake the feeling of uncertainty clouding his expression. Better yet, you’re certain he takes a longing gaze at your lips before snapping out of his trance. "Yeah. Alright. Are… Stars, are we okay?” He asks, a little exasperated. “I hope I didn't make you uncomfortable."
"Go, Hunter," you say just above a whisper, a mixture of confusion and longing tugging at your emotions. "I'll still be here when you get back." Your smile feels forced, genuine bewilderment at how to navigate the spiral of emotions inside you. It all feels like a dream, yet you're not entirely sure if you want to wake up. Or perhaps you do?
Hunter gives you one last lingering look before he turns and leaves, leaving you alone with your tangled thoughts.
Watching him go, you can't help but dread the inevitable awkwardness that awaits you in the morning.
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Hours had slipped by since the departure of the others, and you had kept yourself occupied as best as possible, channeling your energy into cleaning the Marauder. Discarded bolts, half-eaten ration bars, and an array of dust and weapon gear cluttered the interior, making it a challenge to find even a patch of floor. Wiping your brow, you stand back to admire your handiwork, but now what?
"What do you think, Gonky? Nice and clean?"
GONK.
"Yeah, I know," you sigh, sinking into the pilot's seat and propping your legs up on the control dash as you gaze out at the night sky. But try as you might to divert your thoughts, they stubbornly refuse to stray far from the unexpected encounter with Hunter.
There's a lingering tingle on your lips, prompting you to idly lick them as you recall the sensation of his kiss. Your stomach flutters, and you run a hand through your hair in frustration. "It's just a crush... just a crush."
At least, that's what it had started as. Sure, you had found Hunter attractive from the moment you joined the team, but it had been nothing more than a passing admiration. Yet, as the months passed and you grew closer to him, undeniable feelings—on your part, at least—had begun to emerge.
So, the question lingered: why had he kissed you? Was it merely a spontaneous impulse, or was there something more to it? Of course, you couldn't help but hope for the latter, but his immediate apology had left you questioning his intentions.
Suddenly, a rhythmic beeping emanates from one sector of the control panel, jolting you into alertness. You sit forward, inspecting the display, and your blood turns cold as you spot a heat signature approaching. Rising to your feet, you arm yourself and position yourself at the gangplank, ready for whatever may come, your heart pounding with apprehension.
But your fears begin to dissipate as you discern the familiar colors of clone armor in the distance. "Hunter? What are you doing back? Are the others alright?" you call out, relief flooding your voice as you watch him approach.
"Everything's alright, don't worry," Hunter reassures you, his chuckle softening the panic in your voice, though it leaves you feeling more puzzled than reassured.
"What are you doing back then?" you inquire, your stomach fluttering once more as he takes a step closer.
"I came to see you," he says softly, his gaze meeting yours with a sincerity that sends a shiver down your spine. "I couldn't stop thinking about you. It was driving me mad."
You swallow hard, feeling the nervous flutter in your stomach as your hands instinctively tuck behind your back. "Oh, Hunter, I told you I'd be fine," you manage to say, though your voice betrays a hint of uncertainty.
"I'm not referring to that," he replies quickly, closing the distance between you with each deliberate step. Your heart races, anticipation and apprehension mingling in equal measure as you realise the true reason for his return. "Your heart's beating so fast for me," he murmurs, his voice a quiet rasp that sends a shiver down your spine.
With each step bringing him closer, the tension between you becomes palpable, and you can feel the electricity crackling in the air.
"Hunter..." you begin, taking a step back to welcome him onto the ship, but your voice trails off as he enters and seals the door to the Marauder shut behind him with a button on his wrist.
"Did you mean to kiss me?" you finally manage to ask, your heart pounding in anticipation.
"No," he admits, his gaze unwavering, but a flicker of excitement dances in your chest as he continues, "but I can't deny that I haven't thought about doing it. Many times."
You're too stunned to respond, the weight of his words leaving you speechless, and you can only watch in disbelief as he closes the distance between you. His hand reaches up, gently tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear, sending a shiver down your spine.
"Tell me... if I hadn't pulled away, would you have kissed me back?" he whispers, his voice barely audible but filled with a raw vulnerability that leaves you breathless.
You stare into his eyes, all your uncertainties melting away in the intensity of the moment. Unable to resist any longer, you lean in and press a gentle, swift kiss to his lips, pulling back with a coy smile. "Does that answer your question?"
Hunter's chest rises and falls with a mixture of surprise and longing at your kiss, his hands finding a comfortable place on your hips. "Maybe," he teases in response, a playful glint in his eyes. "I think I need to just..." he leans in closer, his lips barely brushing against yours before trailing agonisingly slowly across your cheek and up to your ear.
"Hunter," you gasp silently, your eyes fluttering closed as his lips brush over your earlobe, sending a shiver down your spine.
"Yes?" he asks innocently, his warm breath causing goosebumps to rise on your skin as it fans over you, sending a rush of heat coursing through your veins.
"It's now or never," you whisper breathlessly, your voice barely above a murmur. "Kiss me... kiss me properly."
With a surge of desire, his lips leave your ear and find yours, his hand cupping your jaw as you both surrender to the heated passion between you. Your back presses against the wall of the ship as you eagerly reciprocate, your fingers tangling in his hair with a firm grip as you lose yourself in the intoxicating sensation of each other's touch.
Gone are the smiles and lingering glances, replaced by the urgency of the moment that ignites a fiery passion between you. Both of you are breathless, yet neither of you wants to break away. The kiss is messy, with teeth occasionally clanging together, but it only adds to the raw intensity of the moment.
In a bold move, he lifts your leg and hooks it around his waist, drawing you closer until his body is pressed against yours. Your hands roam over his armor, desperate to remove every barrier between you.
He obliges, a small smirk playing on his lips as he swiftly removes his armor, his lips only briefly parting from yours before he's swallowing your moans once more. "I can't stop kissing you," he grunts, his breathing heavy and intoxicating, sending shivers down your spine.
"Good thing I haven't told you to stop," you growl against his lips, earning a deep groan in response before he deftly maneuvers you onto the floor, crawling over you and enveloping you in his arms.
His tongue dances along your lower lip, seeking entrance that you're willing to grant, but you can't resist the urge to tease him, to show him what he's been missing for so long. Ignoring his plea, you gently bite down on his lip, eliciting a gasp of surprise from him, and seizing the opportunity, you take the lead.
He meets your passion with equal fervor, his tongue tangling with yours in a heated dance. Both of you are panting, and you're grateful that you had cleaned the floor beforehand. "Fuck, you're perfect," he murmurs between kisses, his words sending a rush of warmth to your core.
Lips locked, one of his hands slips under your shirt, sending a tingling sensation racing along your skin as his fingers trail along your stomach and up the side of your ribs. Your breath catches in your throat as he continues his exploration, his touch gentle yet electric, until he ever so softly caresses your breast.
A soft gasp escapes your lips at the intimate contact, your body arching instinctively toward his touch as desire courses through you. With each delicate caress, the heat between you intensifies, and you find yourself completely lost in the sensation of his touch.
"More... please," you gasp into his mouth, your body ablaze with desire. He listens to your plea, his hand reluctantly leaving your breast before sliding back down your body. His fingers dance along your skin, teasing along the hem of your waistband, igniting a primal need within you.
Naturally, arousal courses through you, transforming this fleeting moment of passion into something deeper. "I've dreamt about touching you down here," he whispers against your lips, swollen and flushed with desire.
He's on the verge of breaking the barrier, your body eagerly anticipating his touch, when the shrill noise of his comm device, scattered on the floor next to your head, shatters the moment.
He looks at you, then at his comm, and back to you with an apologetic smile. "It's best I get that. Just in case."
You nod in understanding, suddenly feeling shy and bashful. But he doesn't move from above you, instead swiping up his comm and answering the call. "What's the problem?"
"We're heading back. Crosshair ate some of those berries that gave Wrecker a rash last time," Echo's voice echoes loudly in the cabin, interrupting the intimate moment.
"Fantastic. We'll see you soon," Hunter replies, cutting off the call with a sigh of frustration.
Despite the interruption, you can't help but stifle a laugh at the absurdity of the situation. "Hey," you say softly, reaching up to cup his cheek, "we could do this another time... if you'd like that?"
He chuckles, meeting your gaze with a mixture of longing and gratitude. "I want nothing more than that," he admits, sealing the moment with the gentlest kiss on your lips. "I, uh, I liked this. A lot."
As he helps you sit up, Hunter's movements are gentle yet purposeful, his attention focused on reassembling his gear. Meanwhile, you take a moment to smooth out your hair and adjust your clothing before standing up.
"Hunter?"
Turning to face you, Hunter's gaze is warm yet curious. "Yeah?" he responds, his brow furrowing slightly in anticipation of your next words.
"Thank you," you say softly, sincerity lacing every syllable.
His confusion deepens, prompting him to take a step closer to you, his hand finding its way to your waist as he draws you near. "What for?" he inquires, his eyes searching yours for answers.
Your heart swells at his proximity, and you meet his gaze with a mixture of affection and appreciation.
"For feeling the same way I do."
There were many, many sneaky kisses from then on.
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herseraphwings · 3 months
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18+ A Glimpse Into The Most Intense Sexual Encounter Of Your Lifetime😈💦🍆🍑
It's been months & I had to step away from Tumblr to focus on business! I'm sorry to those who took the poll and didn't get the readings! Here is a steamy pick a card to make up for it. Hopefully I can contribute more pick a pile's to this side of Tumblr more consistently now!
Copyright 2024 © Tellot Tarot
All original works posted on this platform are copyrighted. Unauthorized use or reproduction without permission is prohibited. This pick a pile/image/card is meant to give you an idea of what the most steamy and intense sexual encounter of your life will be. This encounter could be at any point! Enjoy!
Minors DNI!!
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✨This will be a creative writing pick a card✨
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 Pile #1
Your Song: Love Is Stronger Than Pride - Sade
Prime Lyric: “I can’t hate you, though I have tried.”
It's a shame this is happening here. 
The cold of the marble countertop against your exposed skin sends quivers up your spine and frissons of blessed goosebumps across the curve of your rear. A warm but equally gentle and rough hand cups your derriere while twin digits grip your jawline. Timeless lips suckle at your needy neck as you draw in unsteady breaths, grasping at the walls to support the arch of your back. Thick, honeyed lust pools lower and lower with the current of your strong but fluttering heart, drawing your thighs together like aching soft magnets. Just a few minutes ago, there was gnashing of teeth and an attempted divergence witnessed by the Gods as a spectacled exchange of bitter thoughts raised like christened knives against your throats. 
It was the supposed last stand. The conclusion of your story, where you're completely, utterly, officially separated.
But as you both faced off on your war-torn battlefront for the last time, you were ambushed. Your armageddon was due to rear its ugly head and place the four horsemen of pride, betrayal, uncertainty, and, sadly enough, money issues on all sides of your connection. But surprisingly, those demons watched from up high. For the Devil always has a trick up its sleeve. This isn't the first time you've launched into battle and escaped bloodied. But it is the first time the warzone has turned sanctuary- nestling you, cuts, bruises, and all to its tempting bosom. 
What better way to fight than to fuck?
Now, your limbs are entangled while you paw at each other, vulnerable and mutilated by past sins in the bathroom of a mutual acquaintance. Hands you caressed and caressed a million lives over now grab you with need. A need for understanding. Atonement. Rehabilitation. A need to strip you even more bare than their painful words could leave you because it's you. It's always been you. You're the one that chips at their inescapable pride. 
You do this to them- challenge them to be better and tear them down to be much worse when they've failed you.
Heady kisses trace down your neck to your collarbone, all the way down, planting seeds of love; another could never hope to see bear tempering fruit like they could, down to where the heat of all you could ever want and need rests eagerly within the cage of your thighs. "
“Open your legs.”, They look up to you and whisper; their voice tickling you with vibratory lust. 
As you part, you feel teasing nips and pecks mark your sensitive skin with seductive swirling licks to echo, shifting deeper to the core of your desire until a pleasant moan escapes you.
You're not sure if you'll leave your tryst hand in hand or even on the same accord, but you at least know one thing. You both can rip profound emotions out of the other- deep from the marrow. Day or night. Spring or fall. You won't worry if that's a good or bad thing for now because as they beckon your climax to greet them at the edge of their greatest weapon against you, the past pain loses its power. 
Every precise movement of their tongue is like perfect jolts of electricity through your body. Fuck they know you so fucking well. 
Their soft lips and hums of pleasure in pleasuring you are where the true power lies. The sensual dance of their fingers strokes at your sweet spot, but the sudden rustle of the door knob snaps you back to reality. Shit! You shouldn't be doing this here. Before you allow sense to overshadow the moment,the heat builds as your moans grow more intense. You're grateful for the ruckus on the other side of the wall. You sense them smirk beneath you and lock eyes with an individual who is determined to pluck at the strings of your desire until they're taught, and muffled screams rain down on them in a frenzied zenith. Passerby be damned. Once they've drunk enough of you, you'll be ready to return the favor with equal vigor. 
This moment is a storm. Just like your love. A great and terrible storm. Strong enough to tear through villages of memories built on the foundations of a long connection. And just like you have weathered many before as enemies and lovers, these moments provide enough energy to brace yourselves for inclement weather. 
The soul beneath you loves you harder as you writhe, faster, stronger until your beautiful climax hits you like a truck. 
It's such a fucking shame this is happening here. 
You see red. Are you back on the battlefield?
The Devil rises slowly to lay a peck at your ear and whispers, "There's a thin line between love and hate."
Notes: 
This person is may come off as moody or too passionate for others. You have been together for a while at the time of this experience.
At the time of your encounter they are struggling with money.
You are separated, but attempt to find common ground at a social event
This may be the direct doing of a friend. 
I don’t subscribe to the concept of twin flames personally, but this person may truly be your twin flame.
Your relationship with them at the time may be so deep that any little act that may harm the other can blow up to extremes because the feelings run too deep. There’s so much passion!
Thank you for allowing me the honor to read/write for you, Pile 1!✨ Follow for more readings like this!
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Pile #2
Your Song: Hours - FKA Twigs
Prime Lyric “ Who’d have thought, I’d be in your mouth, loud and clear?
I once read that the best love stories are the ones that start with two people who can't stand each other.
 At the time, I thought it a stretch of fictitious delusion. Understand me, Rosaline. I've had my fair share of entertainment from the comedic tropes I've watched on my various screens and read in books, but that's because the hands that pressed pen to paper or finger to keyboard behind the scenes knew how to write a good story. 
There is power in prose. 
We can all agree that the prodigal hate fuck always satisfies an audience. But that's not real to me. 
How you eclipse the moonlight of the bedroom window to stand naked before me as the birth of Aphrodite itself is real to me. It's more vivid than any lucid dream or waking hallucination I could conjure in my insanity for you. How you languidly stalk towards the edge of the bed and make prey of me as your supple breasts softly and teasingly bounce is real to me. 
I've never known anyone to be so graceful as they lower themselves to their knees. 
The throbbing ache of anticipation you draw out of me as your hands open the gate of my thighs, and your beautiful face rests at the threshold of me is real to me. That first gasp-inducing sweet lick followed by the sacred scent of your hair penetrating my nostrils is intoxicating. And, the taste of me on your lips as you pause to greet me before you take me to church is so enchantingly real.
Why? Because the most striking and tangible things of this world aren't isolated to what we can experience with the five senses. It's the things that shake us, move us, change us, and stir something profound within us that is true. We don't even have to understand the why at first. 
And oh, how you stir the most primal and obsessive urges within me. 
I raise a quivering hand to caress your crown as you lick, nip, and tease my most erogenous areas, but you smack my hand away in a warning. Your eyes pierce mine, and you remind me that you are untouchable. 
You remain as unattainable as the day I met you. 
In the beginning, that side of you was cruel. You were so severe. So chaste. A person who seemed to constantly move the goalpost as I chased and chased. Our story was an epic on the destructive nature of gravity. I wanted to be your orange moon as your sunlight cast down upon me, but your pull always threatened to consume and scorch me if I dared to neighbor you. Your glares were like ice, and your mouth spat fire at anything that had something to do with me. It must have been something that I said. But I was no child, and neither were you. We cut the bullshit and found the necessary 60 seconds to get clarity. 
Now, we're very clear on one another. Our vision is 20/20, and God, if you aren't magnificent. The noises you make as your tongue continues its assault on me are provocative, eliciting moans from the bottom of my throat while my eyes roll back and my hips writhe beneath you. Vibrations emanate from your lips as you moan in response to how you undo me, slurping and licking at me deeper and faster to build on your high. Your hands grip me tighter, locking onto the soft of my thighs, not because you need to hold me down but because you want to anchor yourself. The sensual masochist in you knows how badly you want to slowly snake your hand down to feel the wet heat of your trembling cunt- but she won't let you. 
It's the idea that someone like me would beg for the opportunity to just lay beneath and watch you as you gave yourself the depraved release you will forever deserve that drives your lust. In these moments, I'm the one lucky fool under your spell who gets to have a taste of you, but only under your rules. 
That is why tonight is extra special because I agreed to let you do everything that you wanted to do to and or on me, and to be honest, your fantasies are not as wild as you think.
As my climax overtakes me, I gaze back down at you and admire your work. 
You may see me as a fool, but I am a victor. 
The same person that insulted me, frowned at me and rejected me is the same person that now in a delicious turn of events
has my cock down their throat. 
Notes: 
This person is someone that may have chased you or made you chase them
You both misunderstood each other and miscommunicated frequently, for some to the point that you couldn’t stand each other. 
Rosaline is the original apple of Romeo’s eye. She made a vow that prevented her from marrying so she is seen as unattainable and the cause of Romeo’s strife before he lays eyes on Juliet.
For some this night of pleasure is after you have a moment of realization and see that you both actually vibe really well.
You may choose to secretly scurry off to get to know each other better, or end up having this night of passion after you deepen your commitment or get married. 
You or this person could be in a situation where one has already promised themselves to someone else, but you both have a last minute moment of truth and choose to secretly give in to your desires without getting caught.
This is a slightly kinky pile
On this night you may be exploring water sports. I see a woman squirting over their partner or their partner asking to watch them squirt or pee into a glass 
I see nipple play
Similar to pile one, there is an edge of not being seen or organizing a secret rendezvous. 
I feel like it’s the more feminine person with the Rosaline energy, they may come off as bitchy or have severe resting bitch face, but the surprise is that they are the more kinky person.
They love your breasts, but get lustful when they see your opening.
Thank you for letting me the honor to read/write for you, Pile 2!✨Follow for more readings like this!
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Your Song: Seventh - BOSCO
Prime Lyric: “Giving you permission as I'm breathing, Finger on the trigger, now we reset, Here to hide, Will we die? No.”
It's such a beautiful day. Your limbs are tangled in mine as we rest peacefully under the shade of a lone tree before the chapel courtyard. Your beautiful head against my chest gently anchors me to the grass as you listen to the rhythm of my heartbeat. I gaze into the blue sky, contemplating the recipe of cool teals, turquoise, and sapphires God chose to bundle the earth. Sometimes, I wonder why God still allows us to roam this beautiful garden of Eden we call our planet. Maybe it knows that after falling so painfully hard, there really is nowhere to go but up. Or, at least in my case, look up. 
 It's so quiet that you can hear the trickle of a nearby stream. As I look around, everything seems so vivid. Each blade of grass and round tree leaf is a more lively green and rustles so clearly against the gentle currents of air caressing our cheeks- that my spirit can't help but reach toward the surface of an all-encompassing consciousness. The sky, the leaves, the air, and the stream are alive- as alive as I am right here with you. I can see it now. Is this what it's like to be high? 
How could I not be after what we just did? Even though the ceremony was intimate, I was nervous that one of our friends or family found it and somehow turned up at the last moment. 
You shift your hand to draw feathered circles on my chest and snap me out of my musings. You look up at me with a mischievously giddy smile and trace me lower and lower until you reach the hem of my pants, pulling teasingly at the elasticity. I arch my brow in surprise, looking for signs of the clergy. It would be a disaster if one were to stumble across us on their holy walk to find you performing the most unholy of acts. My eyes scan the clearing. I gather myself on my forearms and take a peek back. You're also looking around, but those naughty eyes flash with an undercurrent of different intentions. I would have missed it if I hadn't known you so well. 
You want to get caught. 
My quick scan tells me that we're alone. But you're already gripping me, slender fingers wrapped tightly around velvet steel, ready to receive your touch. You stroke me firmly and languidly as the clouds pass by overhead, and my eager tip moistens with salty essence. I won't let you pull too many moans out of me. We don't know who may be listening despite another quick look around. It feels like I'm floating in a blessed eternity as you touch me until the chapel bell rings unexpectedly. We rush to compose ourselves- one more than the other. You giggle as I try to thrust myself back under my pants and hide my shame before we embarrassingly cross paths with someone on our walk back to the car. I don't return the sentiment.
It was a bad idea anyway. If the Universe is alive and God is real, that must have been a warning. A sort of "Congratulations, but do it in private." 
I know when to listen to divine intervention. I won't allow us to suffer judgment because of your lack of self-control. So I will become a mascareri and punish you myself. 
I want you to think you crossed a line during the car ride back. That our perfect day may not be so perfect after all. You got too impulsive- too excited. So you start entertaining regrets. It's a little cruel, but you'll forgive me later. 
A few hours post your voyeuristic episode, we're diving into champagne and wine bottles. You begged me to pop one open in the spirit of celebration, but we both knew you wanted to flood the nerves in your body with libations. But your consumption of liquor is a double-edged sword. 
Three, four, five glasses down and you're swimming. Your cheeks are a luscious plump shade of rose, your skin is warm to the touch, and your feet are too light or maybe too heavy because you stumble across the floor and fall into my arms. I open a window to let the night cool you down. I'm still nursing my first glass, so I trust myself to securely hoist my bride into my arms and lay her tenderly onto the mattress. Your arms lock behind my neck, and I meet the longing in your big, beautiful eyes. You search me for emotion. Anything that would reveal the current truth of my inner world, but I keep my mask on. 
You wanted to give the Universe a show today. So let's give it one. 
I'll tear the clothing off your body so roughly that cool night air will douse your heated skin with prickles of goosebumps. You won't have time to gasp at my movements because I'll already capture your beautiful mouth with my own- my strong body pressing yours into the mattress of our lover's nest. You will squirm in need, but that won't be enough for me. I need you to whimper, to whine, and mold your begging hips so close to mine as I caress slowly, achingly, down toward heaven. I'll cup my hand at the pearly gate and watch your troubled face as you wait what feels like a millennia until you crack from desperation to feel more of me. 
But there is a warning in my eyes you have never seen before. Something that tells you that this is different. It grips you into submission, a sense of fear and excitement battling within. You've never experienced me treat you like anything other than an angel. Until now, I would never have allowed you to fall. But now I truly have you.
 ALL OF YOU. 
Tonight, you will discover that when angels fall, the devil is there to catch them.  
After our week of heavenly sin in our temporary Garden of Eden, we can deal with the backlash that awaits us. 
Notes:
-This is the person you will marry or at least form a deep commitment with.
-At the time of the sexual encounter, you are trying to eagerly move the commitment forward formally, but you're seeking help to try and make it happen.
-Like looking for an officiant or going through pre-marriage counseling.
-However, you are feeling a little confused and lost or at least frustrated at the situation because things are proving to require more work.
-This may be because other parties are trying to but in with their opinion.
-You feel like you are meant to be with this person. Or you could have already done the deed, and need to break it to your friends and family. 
Thank you for letting me the honor to read/write for you, Pile 3!✨ Follow for more readings like this!
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arabaka · 11 months
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˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ miguel x spidey!fem!reader. CONTENT WARNINGS: 18+ !!! NO SPOILERS !!!! splashes of angst. unprotected sex. creampie. cervix fucking. WORD COUNT: 1.8K PSD CREDIT!!! MINORS/AGELESS BLOGS DNI !!!!!!!( ꐦꉺωꉺ)つ @miguelism @pompomegranate come get ya mans !!!!! PART TWO HERE !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
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You can still see him here.
It’s not real and it never will be– not again, anyways.
“March 13th.” 
How long are you going to keep doing this? Your jaw tenses. Here we go again.
The argument is a solo act; there’s no one to talk to here but you. So naturally, you run the same trite script until it comes to the same inevitable conclusion: giving in to the self-indulgence.
The bad thing’s already happened. You lost Miguel– well, more like he lost you. You’re the one trapped in this purgatorial vortex. The space that lies between every what if, the border of every possibility.
And it’s so fucking lonely.
So it’s ironic that your multiverse jumping wristband is good for anything but its intended use. It mocks you, its amber projections burning red when you even so much as try to go home. Not to your original timeline– to HQ.
To him.
But you know that will never happen so you make do with what you have: the memories stored on your gadget, the device looking worse for wear with jagged claw marks running down its sides, disappearing into the scarred flesh that lies beneath it. 
He didn’t mean to hurt you. You know that.
You wish you could tell him.
You (metaphorically) furiously fan away that cloud of remembrance. You’re already stuck, no need to dwell on the last time your heart was ripped out. You lie back, resting against nothing but floating amongst everything. Limbo sure is weird.
Arm resting over your stomach, you train your eyes on the happier time playing out from the screen on your wrist. It’s not perfect; the vision cracks, sometimes glitches in reds and greens before going back to normal. It’s getting worse. 
There you go again! We’re trying to have a good time here. 
Right. Right.
Sorry.
Focus.
You take a deep breath, chest rising and falling steadily.
Focus.
You close your eyes and when you reopen them, fix them on the screen that shows you strutting in Miguel’s domain, it’s like you’re there.
It’s like you’re back home.
“You gotta eat, you know.” Tossing a paper bag way up high, it doesn’t surprise you that he catches it with lightning fast reflexes, even with his back turned to you. “And if you don’t, I’ll make ‘em take empanadas off the menu.” 
He’s still. Only sound coming from him is the rustling of the bag. At least there’s that, you think as you approach the floating platform. “Don’t make me come up there!” You holler, though you only get your own echo in return. 
Shit. He’s in a mood.
Throat flexing with a thick swallow, you decide to go up anyways– you sure don’t want to wait for him to come to you. Thing’s slow as hell.  
Webs whipping from your wrist, you fashion a slingshot apparatus to propel you yards into the air. Nothing beats the rush of a flight, even now as you descend into what could be a particularly thorny situation with a particularly grumpy man. 
But he’s your particularly grumpy man. 
“Hey,” Your voice starts softly, “Everything–”
He turns around, stopping you in the middle of what was going to be your magnum opus of pep talks to show he’s got a mouthful of doughy goodness that keeps him from talking. And when he swallows, there’s a damn smirk waiting for you to kiss.
You don’t fall for it, at least not now but god do you want to. But first…
“Asshole!” 
“You just jumped to conclusions.” Another bite of the savory empanada just to tick you off. You’re so cute when you’re annoyed, even if it’s all in good fun. Your cheeks puff up and your nose scrunches when your eyebrows furrow. He’ll kiss you if you won’t.
“Oh, real mature. Hiding behind–” 
In a flash, the empanada goes back in the bag and in red glowing binds gets fastened to the side of his computer mainframe, freeing up his hands to pull you close. A little too roughly, but you melt into his big frame regardless, lips pursing against his and giggling when you can taste meat and spice.
“How romantic.” You mutter and he laughs.
God, his laugh. Nobody heard it too often– nobody but you, that is.
When Miguel was with you, it’s as if you two were in a world of your own. A timeline of your own. Where past transgressions and terrible happenings were nonexistent. Where he could be him, the man he was supposed to be: sweet, charming, and kind. And where you could love him like he deserved.
Is someone else filling that role now? 
Great! You’re thinking too much again. Stop fucking this up!
“June 27th!” You blurt, warped back to reality when your thoughts strayed too far from the projection. 
The picture’s changed now. You’re home, your residence littered with reminders of Miguel. It’s empty, but not for long. The front door slams open and you and Miguel come pouring in, him taking the lead as the two of you blindly navigate the foyer with your lips locked and hands gripping each other for dear life.
Your cheeks in real time burn. Maybe you shouldn’t stay for this memory.
Oh, don’t be such a prude. It’s literally you! The little voice in your head chastises and honestly… You can’t argue with that.
“M-Miguel, I don’t– I don’t have– I’m not on–”
“Shut up.” A tempered hiss is pressed to your lips, thick digits coming to frame your face as he pushes you further into the space you’ve come to share together. “Or I’ll change my mind about filling you up.”
You can’t argue with that.
“Say it.” His growling crests your ears, breath hot and fangs out just moments later when his pelvis is flush against yours, cock buried to the base in your sopping wet pussy. You swear he’ll drip drool on you at this point, the man driven to the brink of his sanity by the way your cunt hugs him so tight. It’s like you want to milk him for all he’s worth. 
Your hands paw helplessly at his chest, all your energy zapped as your eyes roll back under the curtain of fluttering fluffy eyelashes. “F-Fuck Miguel– f-fill me up!” 
“Keep going.” His voice is low, rich and dark.
The fat head of his cock presses up against your sensitive bundle of clitoral nerves, slamming hard when you whimper and cry for him, “Right there, right there!” You start to babble, the words freely flowing from your kiss-bruised lips because your brain is long gone, “F-Fuck me, need your cum– need you, need you, Miguel! Please don’t stop, please!” 
“Yeah? Can’t feel whole without my cock? Need it?” His tone seeped in pride, he loves seeing you unravel for him like this. “I’m givin’ it to you baby, right where you need it. You feel that? Your little pussy crying for me, so fucking wet. Fuck, you’re so good. Good for me.” He’s kissing you now, sloppy and panting into your mouth before his tongue ravishes yours and swallows every moan you give him.
Your legs locked around his waist still bounce, hips raised off the bed by Miguel’s brutish clutch so he can bully more of himself into you, harder and faster. Your lower body limply follows his every move, takes every slam and thrust all the while wet squelches fill the room. Your vision finally coming back, you see his nostrils flare and his eyes glazed over with a beastly kind of lust. It’s enough to make your bones shiver.
You can’t help but let your gaze rest there, even as he fucks you within an inch of your life, always so fervent with his thrusting as he stuffs you full, but you just can’t get over this view: his pectoral muscles flexing when you tighten up around him in just the right way, the way sweat gathers on his brow before trickling down his sharp jawline, and the way his lips stay agape because if he’s not groaning, he’s growling.
“That’s it, mi vida. Doin’ so good. Pussy takin’ me all the way in. Shit– I’m addicted. Might just fuck you raw every time. Want that?” One hand comes to your face, thumb just barely squishing your cheek and making you pout. “Say it.” 
“Y-Yes, yes! Please Miguel!” Tear drops glimmering in the corners of your eyes, you plead for him, “C-Cum inside me, I’m getting close!” Every sense of yours is on fire, everything burning bright for him and only him. Always for him.
And you see a similar inferno explode in his narrowed eyes just then and it’s immediate, the way he unhooks your legs from his waist and bends them aaaalllllll the way back until your knees are violently knocking against the mattress, his lumbering body taking yours in the mating press he so adores.
Because he gets to fill you to the brim. Bump and grind against your cervix until even that soft nodule is his. He’s staking his claim, making you his as the soles of his feet dig deep into the sheets, his toned limbs caging your bouncing body until you’re nothing but a squealing little mess for him to clean up.
His balls slap firmly and roughly against your folds, sticky webs of cum starting and breaking each time he snaps his hips. Your walls tremble around him, gushing out more of your essence every time. You’re just about undone. He can feel it.
But so is he, his already thick cock pulsating with another rush of blood as the coil in his stomach heats up. He puts all his weight into you, onto you the last couple thrusts – he knows you can take it – so he can kiss you. So he can taste you.
“‘M cumming, c-cumming…” Your words are muffled and tired, eyes wheeling back as your orgasm hits you hard and heavy, Miguel following soon after with plenty of cum to fill your pretty pussy up with and an animalistic series of grunts as his cock twitches and throbs inside you. It’s thick and so much, too much so that the opaque matter starts to pool out when his hard shaft finally leaves you, giving your featherlight folds another heaping layer of viscosity.
“‘Tch– it’s comin’ out already.” He huffs, though with a bit of a laugh. “Can’t have that.” So his fingers gather what’s remaining and slip into your cunt before he pops another kiss to your parted lips, nipping just a teeny bit on the bottom half to get you to squeal one last time for him.
And that’s how the video ends. That’s how you finish, having followed along with lithe fingers rubbing your aching clit and one or two at any time plunged and crooked inside you, but it’s not the same. 
It’ll never be the same.
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shooting-love-arrows · 5 months
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Your aesthetic is just so beautiful dear!! i love how you organize everything, how pretty you write !!
Can i request maybe a yan! mortician? I don't really know the word in english waaa (⁠´⁠;⁠︵⁠;⁠`⁠)
kisses. mwah mwah take care of yourself ok?? 🎐
Dear Anon,
Thank you, dear. It’s really nice of you to say. Your english is very good so no need to worry. Sending you lots of kisses and thank you for the patience.  P.S I’m reminding myself to drink water regularly :)
@shooting-love-arrows
𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄! 𝐕𝐈𝐂𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐈𝐀𝐍! 𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐓𝐈𝐂𝐈𝐀𝐍
PAIRING: 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝐕𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐚𝐧! 𝐌𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐧 x reader [gender not mentioned/specified/implied] SYNOPSIS: General headcanons/some concerning habits of his. Tw. yandere walking red flag, creepy yandere, intentional poisoning, delusion, attachment issues (?), nudity but not nsfw. 
𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭
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Who treats you like a corpse rather than a living, breathing, human being. 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝐕𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐚𝐧! 𝐌𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐧 is so used to being surrounded by dead that sometimes he forgets you are in fact alive. It shows during those moments when he starts doing most simple things for you, like dressing you up before you wake up; when you stay still for to long, he’ll carry you around bridal style because he forgets that you can move on your own or forgets to prepare you a portion of food, because corpses don’t eat. Those moments scares you the most, because you’re never sure if he snaps out of it.
“Hm…? Oh dear…” 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝐕𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐚𝐧! 𝐌𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐧 muttered and tilted his head when he realized he’s been carrying you around the funeral parlor for a while. “It seems like I have done that again.” Not that he was complaining. After all, he’s got to hold you in his arms.
Who regularly poisons you. He adds small doses of the earlier crushed pills he originally brought in the pharmacy to your food. Just enough to make you sick, weak and confused. 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝐕𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐚𝐧! 𝐌𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐧 feels his heart squeezing painfully everytime time he sees you in this state but at the same time, he believes that what he's doing is for a good cause. You must stay in the house. It’s not safe in the stress! Not to mention those people who could harm you (or worse, take you away from him!). This just can’t and won’t happen. He’d rather be the one to bring harm to you and nurse you back to health. Your place is here, in your shared house, with him.
“It seems like you are ill again, sweetling. Lay down, you need rest.” 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝐕𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐚𝐧! 𝐌𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐧 proceeds to tuck you in and kiss your sweaty forehead lovingly. “Let me take care of you, sweetling. I will make everything better.” He whispered into your skin decorated with glistening pearls of sweat, smiling softly. 
Who always has to carry a piece of you on him. He just can’t part with you. Be it before or after you’re officially his. He has a silver locket with a coil of your hair in it, a ribbon that fell out of your outfit tied around his wrist or a photo of you (especially the one he took of you). Those are few examples but anything that belongs to you he’ll gladly take to carry around. This way you can always be with him.
“What beautiful hair you have, sweetling.” 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝐕𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐚𝐧! 𝐌𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐧 laughed in glee. He was in his funeral parole, staring at the coil of your hair he secretly snipped off when you were asleep. It was placed neatly in a pure silver locker he always carried around his neck. “The prettiest.”
Who has a habit of photographing your nude body. It depends on his mood whether it’ll turn sexual or not, but what doesn’t change is that he’s always in awe of your body. 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝐕𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐚𝐧! 𝐌𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐧 saw many naked bodies, more or less beautiful. But you…you are perfect in every way. He feels like it’s his obligation to document that beauty. So usually, you’ll find yourself lying in the coffin panelled with silk, naked as the day you were born. And so the photo session continues. And when he’s done…? 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝐕𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐚𝐧! 𝐌𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐧 will lean over you, looming like a grim reaper ready to whisk you away into the underworld, and whisper sweet nothings, prizes and compliments to you while his eyes admire every inch of your body.
“Keep still, sweetling.” 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝐕𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐚𝐧! 𝐌𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐧 adjusted his trusty camera so it’ll focus on you.  You kept shivering from the cold that keeps nipping at your skin. Not even the silk you were laying upon helped to ease your worries and shame for you had no choice but to be vulnerable and exposed towards your captor.  “Perfect. Close your eyes and stay in this position.”
Who kisses the spot on your chest where your heart beats. It happens first thing in the morning and the last thing at night. When you’re laying in bed, in your nightclothes, he’ll lower the front of yours and gently place a kiss above your heart. He imagines that it’s his way of pouring his undying love straight into your heart. It always sends a pleasurable shiver down his spine.
“I was born to love you…” kiss “I am breathing for you…” kiss “I am living for you…” kiss 
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All of the published posts on this account/blog belongs to @shooting-love-arrows. I do not consent to my works being: translated, stolen, published or reposted on this and other sites. Likes, reblogs, comments are highly appreaciated. Thank you.
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scatterbrainedbot · 6 months
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I AM SPINNING I AM PACING I AM FULL ON FROLICKING IM SO EXCITED
@d1sc0rd1a THANK U FOR THESE TAGS
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okayokayokayokay so pretty much all of these questions will be Officially Answered properly in the character design/intro pages im working on but also i am physically vibrating with excitement about the fact that you noticed all these details and i have very little self control so! lore dump time!!!
(minor tw for mentions of leos self-harm/self-destructive anxious behaviors and unhealthy coping skills)
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- mikey does indeed have curly fur! i believe he would be considered a 'rex' rat (pictured on the left) for this trait? though the curls can be more easily seen on mice (pictured on the right). or, at least it seems that way. have not delved too deeply into the details of rodent genes and husbandry, but id assume its the same sort of mutation considering curly haired mice are also referred to as rex sometimes? either way hes a extra floofy bby 🧡
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-as for raphie, unfortunately being more fluff and less shell than the average rapheal comes with its downsides. especially if you and your brothers occasionally encounter things like territorial dogs, hungry cats, or sewer crocodiles while exploring places ur dad said not supposed to go. (most of his scars will have more ninja related stories, but his ear i think got messed up from something very animal. probably around age 11 ish? old enough to sneak out from dads protection but young enough to not fully know how to handle himself alone against real danger. thankfully his ear injury looks worse than it actually is for the most part, as the damage was largely to the outer ear. his hearing wasnt super affected, except that he now has a bit of a harder time being able to track/pinpoint noises origins if its on his right side.)
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-also yep! dons got some glasses that just clip/rest on the bridge of his nose! theyre mostly just for home use, as they do fall off if hes knocked around. in the field he has some goggles he tends to use (theyre helpful as they have multiple additional functions like heat-imaging, extra zoom/telescoping, and recording capabilities. but also theyll give him headaches if he wears them for too long without breaks). contacts are theoretically also an option but he absolutely hates the sensation of putting them in. so sometimes when hes tired he'll just not bother with either clips or goggles and just squint and struggle. leo hates when he does that lol.
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-speaking of leo, he is def an anxious baby :) he has a few patches of fur missing on his hand cos he has the tendency to tug on it while hes thinking. he yanked and chewed on his own tail a lot when he was younger too, which is why when hes older he usually wears some wraps to cover the scars left from that behavior. he finds those scars specifically to be kinda embarrassing and shameful because they werent from any battle or life-lesson, just his own 'inability to control himself'. all of his brothers have repeatedly called him out on the fact that that is not a healthy way to think about his anxiety or mental health, but leo insists hes fine. hes kinda convinced himself that a proper warrior always has control over his own body* and his own thoughts, thus he should be able to just like willpower-brute-force his way into 'being better'. (this line of thinking pisses raph off so much he has to leave and go hit something)
Splinter also tries to talk him through some of that internalized guilt/shame/everything, but splinters very metaphorical, poetic, and indirect when it comes to talking about Big Things, which combined with how much leo gets caught in his own head, makes it kinda hard to gauge how much these talks actually help
*this is made extra fun considering leos also ftm trans, so he is faced with a body that fundamentally disobeys him perhaps more than the average rat-man.
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-and im still going back and forth between a few species for splinter, but im leaning mostly towards an African Spurred Tortoise! they have these beautiful if kinda subtle geometric shell patterns and are the third largest species of tortoise in the world. the only thing that doesnt fit perfectly with Splints is that (allegedly) their lifespan in captivity is around 50ish years, whereas im p sure Tortoise Splinter is well over 75, probably closer to 90 when the boys are born and hes mutated into Old Man Papa.
but maybe hes just a particularly long lasting African Spurred Tortoise.
the Hamato family has taken very good care of him for many decades after all. :)
(well. until everything all fell apart, that is.....)
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luci-is-a-bitch-x3x · 6 months
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Obey me! Brothers with Demon behaviors (part 2??) :
You can find any other parts here: part one, part two (you are here), part three, part four
━☆*:・゚✧✧ ♡ ❀ ♡ ✧━
Welcome! to another part of this adventure! This has dark themed content, so read at you're own risk! The characters may not be how you imagine! I apologize for any poor jokes, bad spelling, and terrible grammar. Without further ado, please enjoy the content. ♡
Caution: May contain dark themes or imply towards dark themes. May contain nsfw or it may imply towards nsfw themes.
━☆*:・゚✧✧ ♡ ❀ ♡ ✧━━☆*:・゚✧✧ ♡ ❀ ♡ ✧━
✧✧Scents✧✧
This time we're going to talk about Mc scent!
Humans just like most creatures have a unique-ish scent of their own. Demons smell better than humans do, so they can smell a humans scent perfectly. Solomon and Mc smell different, the demons can really tell a difference. Some humans scents attract demons almost like an aphrodisiac. Mc's scent is definitely an aphrodisiac for some demons. Solomon's scent may be as well but we won't get into that rn. Also I feel like a demon's attraction to a human's scent enhances after they make a pact with said human. Mc's scent can be either comforting or a aphrodisiac for the brothers, it switches at random moments. There are bound to be moments when Mc isn't around and they have to do something they arent proud of, something that's maybe even a little perverted? They can't help it they're demons, and Mc wasn't around so Mc will never have to know.
Comforting moments due to Mc's scent happen to Lucifer at the most random times, most of the times when Mc isn't even currently with him. Say Mc brings him some tea before they head to bed, they talk for a little and then Mc gives Lucifer a goodnight hug and kiss before heading to bed. Its not until Mc is out of the room that Lucifer finally notices Mc's scent. Lucifer will try and continue working on paperwork, but Mc's comforting scent seems to linger on his clothes from when they gave him a goodnight hug. Lucifer has to fight sleep harder than usual for the rest of the night, Mc's scent seemed to put him in such a safe comforting mindset that he was being lulled into sleep. When these moments happen Lucifer will either head to bed earlier than he wanted to, or Lucifer will be stubborn and continue to try and fight sleep, just to fall asleep at his desk. ...Other moments due to Mc's scent kill Lucifer's pride and ego. How can a human pull such feelings out of him, how can a human's scent cause him to do something so low...so perverted... He's the Avatar of Pride! Yet there are times...Times Lucifer's not proud of, times Mc can never learn about, it would shatter any pride Lucifer has left. Lucifer has had to replace so many of Mc's scarves, gloves, hell even some jackets. Any article of clothing Mc leaves behind in Lucifers room, or in his study are usually not the same when returned. Lucifer usually has to buy a replacement and give the replacement clothing to Mc due to how..dirty the original clothing got. It confuses Lucifer immensely, Lucifer rarely ever touched himself before Mc came along. He's The Avatar of Pride! He was to prideful to pleasure himself while alone! Yet it has become a normal occurrence for the prideful demon to use Mc's forgotten clothing pervertedly. After Mc and Lucifer made their pact it became worse. Lucifer didn't even need Mc's clothing, he could catch a whiff of Mc's scent and he would have a issue to deal with, either with Mc's help or without it.
Mammon is usually with Mc when he has comforting moments due to Mc's scent. Say Mammon and Mc are running away from someone and Mammon catches a whiff of Mc's scent he'll find comfort in a situation he was just freaking out over. It makes him feel like everythings going to be okay even though at the time everythings not okay. Mammon thinks of Mc's scent as a good luck charm, yes Mc in general is his good luck charm but if Mammon is running away from someone without Mc around, and still somehow catches a whiff of Mc's scent, Mammon always gets away safely, and he claims its because of Mc's scent. Because Mammon claims Mc/Mc's scent is his good luck charm, and because he's the Avatar Of Greed, Mammon probably has a stash of stuff that smells like Mc, peobably the most random things, piled up in a pile or neatly stored somewhere, he'd put Mc in the pile and keep them there if he could ...Other moments due to Mc's scent, are something Mammon would deny with his life if Mc found out about them. Mammon's a little embarrassed and a little guilty feeling when he has these moments, but in the end he's a demon! As long as Mc never finds out he has nothing to worry about anyways! Mammon can't help it! Mc's scent just gets to him. He'll just be chilling in his room, he'll walk by his pile of Mc's stuff and...well now he has to do something about the problem in his pants. Mammon doesn't understand how a human's scent can make The Great Mammon act this way, but Mammon can't seem to care or worry about it when he's laying on the pile of Mc's things in his room. Engulfed in Mc's scent, his greed, the pleasure, thats all Mammon can register. Making a pact with Mc makes it so much worse for Mammon. Laying in the pile of Mc's things and doing..private things, became an occurrence that happened very often. Could be nightly sometimes, sometimes a couple times week. He's the Avatar of Greed, mans is Greedy for Mc okay? These moments make Mammon a whimpering mess, and if Mc and him are together he may wind up at the door to Mc's room, greedy and ready for the real Mc, not the discarded Mc belongings he keeps in a pile.
Leviathan finds himself having comforting moments due to Mc's scent all the time. Levi never leaves his room, so for Mc to see or hang out with him, they have to go to his room, causing their scent to linger in his room. Levi loves it, he's never told Mc it happens, and never will. Levi eats it up though, he games better, he sleeps better, animes seem better. The only problem is being able to smell Mc makes Levi think Mc's in his room with him so he'll get sad sometimes realizing their not actually in his room. Levi gets caught up in things like gaming or animes, but sonetimes he'll want to say something to Mc or get Mc's opinion. He'll whip around to say it to Mc just to look around his room and realize Mc's not in there, that his room just smells like Mc. Now Levi's upset, just sad but also a little mad, he's the Avatar of Envy, he saw Mc wasnt in his room and probs thought 'oh they're with one of my brothers' so now he's sad and jealous. Might not even need to be! But Mc will still have to make it up to him, talk about TSL and it'll eventually be fine. ...Other moments due to Mc's scent seem to happen as often as the comforting moments. Levi's self loathing becomes worse after these..private moments. He may even "try" to avoid Mc, he won't. He'll tell himself to, but he'll fail which will cause him to hate on himself even more. Levi knows these moments are wrong, he knows he's perverted for doing them. The things he's done on Mc's gaming chair in his room, the fantasies he's thought of while in said chair. It just smells so much like Mc, sitting in it engulfs Levi in their scent, he usually does it for comfort. But after the first time of doing perverted things on Mc's gaming chair, it became a normal occurrence. During these moments Levi will sit in Mc's gaming chair with his lower half hiden underneath his gaming desk. Levi's head usually lays back so he can smell Mc's scent better, while he takes care of business he'll worry about if he locked his door or not. He finds himself hating on himself because the thought of Mc walking in on him excites him. Making a pact with Mc makes it worse for poor Levi. All he has to do is think of Mc and suddenly he has a problem he has to take care of, might as well do it in Mc's gaming chair. Even if Levi and Mc get together Levi isnt going to go to them for help, he's to anxious and shy, but if Mc somehow ends up helping, he's their whimpering good boy.
Satan finds himself having comforting moments due to Mc's scent far more often then he thought he would. Mc's scent always seems to linger in the spots he's reading in. He never knows why, maybe Mc's scent is on him to begin with? Satan will have to continue to try and solve this mystery, as I dont have an answer lol. Satan enjoys the comforting moments, it calms his wrath and makes it easier for him to get lost in whatever book he's reading at the time. Its so comforting he almost falls asleep at times, but the book always keeps him awake. He has to know what happens next! ...Other moments due to Mc's scent happen to Satan on occasion. Satan usually finds himself having these moments when combining Mc's scent and an erotic novel. The characters in these novels always seem to remind Satan of Mc when he has these moments. It could be because Mc's scent is clouding his brain Everything but Mc is a little foggy to Satan, but he's still more than capable of reading a book. No matter how lost in these moments he may get the books he reads never seem to get dirty. He takes good care of his books even when his mind is on other things. After Mc and Satan make a pact Satan may have these moments more often than before having a pact with Mc. If Mc and him get together he may go to Mc during these moments, not in a begging whimpery way like some of his brothers. Satan has no problem handling the problem himself, he has a great imagination, and the novels always have good descriptions.
Asmodeus has comforting moments due to Mc's scent at odd times. Asmo may be in class at R.A.D when suddenly he gets a whiff of Mc's scent, it probably rubbed off on him after he spent all morning clinging to Mc's side. Asmo had been bored and restless, but suddenly he felt calm and comfortable, class didn't feel like it was passing as slowly as it had been. He'll get to see Mc soon enough! Asmo is always in a better mood after he smells Mc's scent. He probably sends Mc a text saying how much he misses them everytime this happens. Other odd but comforting moments due to Mc's scent happen to Asmo when he's out doing something. Maybe he's shopping, maybe he's clubbing, or even at the spa, wherever it is he'll suddenly catch a whiff of Mc's scent and all is calm and good. Asmo enjoys the comforting moment due to Mc's scent but Asmo enjoys the...Other moments as well. Asmo is the Avatar of Lust, its in his nature to enjoy such things. Even if he makes things a little spicier than most of his brothers do. He's supposed to! He's just acting as he should as the Avatar of Lust. Asmo is bound to let Mc walk in on him during one of these moments. Hopefully Mc isn't naive enough to belive the Avatar of Lust got caught on "accident" if Mc stays that day, Asmo may start coming to Mc or he'll continue to let Mc catch him, making it spicier everytime. If Mc chooses to not join, Asmo will still enjoy thw moments, after all he can have fun by himself.
Beelzebub has comforting moments due to Mc's scent all the time. Beel says in game that being around Mc makes him feel like he's less hungry or that food taste better, so Beel is always dragging Mc places to eat with him. Due to this Beel is always smelling Mc's scent, one could argue Mc's scent is what helps ease his appetite. One could also argue that its all in his head that he doesn't actually eat less, and makes himself believe food taste better. Beel thinks Mc smells better then any food he's ever had, Mc has a scent that fills his stomach but also makes him hungry at the same time. This is good but dangerous at the same time, Beel doesnt handle hunger well. ...Other moments due to Mc's scent is when Beel feels hungry, but its a different type of hunger than he's used to. Beel trys to be sweet and in the begining he either handles the problem in his pants quickly or doesn't deal with it at all. Beel trys to satisfy this different hunger by eating more food, but no matter how much he eats, he still feels the hunger. Making a pact with Mc makes it so, so much worse on Beel, its basically hell for him. He doesn't know what to do about the problem, the hunger after making a pact practically hurts. Beel knows it would be wrong to act on the actions his mind thinks of as solutions. He's such a large demon..and Mc is..well a fragile human, but Beel knows better. Out of all the things he's felt hungry for, he resits this hunger stubbornly, he can't hurt Mc over this hunger. If Mc and him end up together, Beel will show Mc how starved he is. He was a good boy who waited patiently, he deserves to feast, doesn't he?
Belphegor has comforting moments due to Mc's scent all the time. Mc and him are always taking naps together, well some of the times its just Mc doing something while the sloth demon clings to them and naps. Due to Belphie always being attached to Mc's side like a koala bear, he always finds that he smells like Mc's scent. Belphie will also sometimes let Mc use his cow pillow so occasionally his pillow smells like Mc's scent as well. Belphie enjoys comforting moments due to Mc's scent because it helps him sleep and it gives him good dreams. ...Other moments due to Mc's scent aggravate Belphie. He's a spoiled brat, he likes things his way, not any other way. Belphie's problem is he has these moments as often as he has the comforting moments. He hates them because they disturb his sleep and leave him upset and whiney usually. Belphie even finds himself having to worry where he sleeps because of these moments, the countless times he's woken up from a nap humping a pillow, he would never hear the end of it if one of his brothers caught him doing that. Making a pact with Mc makes it worse on Belphie, if he would have known that he wouldn't have done it! Mans is def a whiney angry brat for a while and Mc probs has no clue because he refuses to tell them. Belphie has to be extra careful where he sleeps because of these moments now, instead of waking up to what he woke up to before Belphie will occasionally wake up to stained and sticky pajama bottoms. Belphie thought he was upset when the dreams became more frequent after forming a pact with Mc, the first time he woke up to that sight, he was fumming, giving Satan a run for his money. If Mc and Belphie end up dating, and he doesn't wake up to a mess, he'll go crawling to Mc, and whine until Mc helps him deal with the problem. He's the Avatar of sloth, he doesn't want to do the work or take care of it himself!
☆☆Weather Behaviors☆☆
How does cold weather affect the brothers or demons in general?
You know how when it gets cold some animals will huddle together to stay warm, I can see the brothers doing this when it gets cold in the Devildom. Some of the brothers won't initiate the cuddle pile (Lucifer, Satan, Levi because he doesn't initiate anything he's to anxious man) The cuddle pile did happen before Mc but it wasn't as often, when its cold in the Devildom and Mc is there the cuddle piles may happen everyday, if not it happens at least twice a week. When Mc isnt in the Devildom it happens once every 2-3 weeks unless its extremely cold.
Out of the brothers who initiates the cuddle piles the most? Asmo & Belphie. Asmo is just a cuddly demon, and being cold is not good for ones skin! Belphie isn't usually wandering up to anyone but Beel or Mc when he starts the inevitable cuddle pile. There are occasions when Belphie will be half asleep and wander up to one of his other brothers and start the cuddle pile, this only happens when Belphie gets really cold in his sleep. Mammon & Beel may occasionally start the cuddle pile as well. Mammon doesn't start the cuddle pile often because I just feel like he has a naturally warm body temperature. Mammon usually accidently starts the cuddle pile by cuddling with Mc with his brothers around. Or when Mammon is, on the rare occasion, cold, he'll initiate the cuddle pile. Mammon will cuddle with any of his brothers, but he defiently has ones he'll cuddle with before others. Now some may disagree with which ones i say, but I think out of all his brothers Mammon would cuddle up next to Lucifer or Levi. Just listen, yes Mammon would cuddle with his other brothers, and he may seem more friendly good pals with some of his other brothers. But the older 3 are close in their own little way. They dont show it, so it'd be rare to actually catch Mammon cuddling with Lucifer or Levi, but it def happens. I mean one it says in game that Lucifer has a soft spot for Mammon, and Mammon will seek Lucifer out when he has to do something he doesnt like, like watch a horror movie or something. There's also chats between them that prove their close man, Lucifer would never allow it with anyone around other than maybe Mc, but he would allow Mammon to cuddle him, if Mammon hasnt been causing problems. With Levi its like normal siblings they act like they hate each other, they say mean stuff to eachother but in the end they vibe. They are always hanging out when Mc is involved, and I think they would occasionally hang out without Mc. I mean Levi isn't stupid, he cant be actually expecting Mammon to give any money he "barrows" back. I think its more play fighting between those two, occasionally it is real fighting. So although cuddle piles between Mammon and Levi don't happen often without Mc i can still see them happening. Beel will initiate a cuddle pile with any of his brothers, but he also has favorites. Belphie obv, Levi I feel like Levi's actually pretty close with his brothers even though they bully him, Mammon or Asmo. I feel like because Beel is a family man, I think hes really close with all his older brothers, not as close as with Belphie but pretty close. So Beel loves cuddling with them, it reminds him of the old days with Lillith and everything, and he gets to make new memories by having Mc there! A sad thought i had is that Beel probably wants to be able to cuddle with Lucifer still, he probs did back when they were younger and angels, But he respects Lucifer to much and hates getting in touble so he never does. Poor bby.
Cuddle piles for Lucifer happen either when he's cuddling with Mc and his brother see and get jealous and decide to join the cuddling, imagine Lucifer and Mc cuddling in his room and then the door bursts open all FBI open up style, and then the brother that kicked open the door lets out like a screech war cry thing and then all of his brothers are suddenly on top of him and Mc in a cuddle pile, now everyones cuddling. Stay mad Luci. Or when one of his younger brothers rarely snuggle up to him, more may join. If a movie night happens in HoL, Lucifer is covered in the bodies of his younger brothers and one human usually. Its like how kids pile onto their parents during movie night. Imagine if the side characters came over for movie night one time and even more people piled onto poor Luci. Satan usually ends up in a cuddle pile if Asmo or Belphie cuddle with him and then other brothers join. But Satan will join a cuddle pile if Lucifer is at the bottom, just because he thinks Lucifer hates it. Which to be fair Lucifer acts like he hates it, but lets be for real Lucifer loves his brothers and probably finds the experience to be heart warming. Levi is never initiating the cuddle pile, but he will sometimes join one. Most of the time Levi ends up in a cuddle pile because one of his brothers cuddles up to him and then others join, they'll watch him play a video game or something.
━☆*:・゚✧✧ ♡ ❀ ♡ ✧━━☆*:・゚✧✧ ♡ ❀ ♡ ✧━
Thats all for now babes! Hope you enjoyed!! ♡ This is not proofread. Feel free to comment or reblog any thoughts or any add ons you have! Sorry this is so much longer than I meant for it to be! More content is coming soon so Stay tuned! Stay Safe! & Do you boo!
━☆*:・゚✧✧ ♡ ❀ ♡ ✧━
⟡˙⋆Masterlist⋆˙⟡
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lurkingshan · 1 month
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Unknown Episode 6
Well, we wanted them to bring the pain, and my god did they do it. If you had any remaining doubt that this show knows exactly what it's doing with this story, this episode surely put it to rest. There were so many excellent scenes this week, and not all of them are strictly from the source material. I'm going to walk through the episode by favorite moments, because there is so much worthy of discussion here.
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That first scene between Qian and Yuan, when Qian put his hand on Yuan's face and expressed his worry, was original to the show, and it got me right in the heart. It is exhausting to love someone you know won't love you back in the same way, and Yuan has been crumbling under the burden of trying to restrain his feelings while staying close to Qian. That Qian is both the source of his comfort and his agony makes it all so much harder, and Qian's blinders to Yuan's feelings means he is constantly making it worse for Yuan without meaning to.
I also loved the whole sequence at the H.O.T. party, from Yuan arriving sad and sick and vulnerable only to see Feng Ning getting cozy with his brother, to Qian knowing instantly that something was wrong with Yuan and becoming distracted, to Qian and Feng Ning's chat clearing up their relationship and the show allowing her to be awesome and not at all villainous about it, to Qian following Yuan into the backroom for the confrontation. It was a short sequence but it all built masterfully to the moment we've been waiting for since episode 1.
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And what a scene that was. I loved that it began with Qian trying to care for Yuan like he always does. He is at a work event but he cannot focus on anything else until he knows Yuan is okay. But Yuan has hit his limit while his guard was down, and it all finally comes spilling out in the worst way possible. The emotions of this scene were perfect--Qian was truly shocked, deeply upset, and importantly, betrayed by Yuan crossing this boundary and imploding their relationship. And Yuan is also feeling upset and betrayed, because he has always counted on Qian to accept him no matter what, and in this moment, Qian failed him by rejecting him in a way he never has before. They are both clearly devastated to have this relationship ruined because for both of them, it is the most important one in their lives.
It's not surprising that Qian goes into full avoidance mode in the aftermath; he has no idea how to navigate his conflicting instincts. He doesn't want to reject Yuan and in fact it hurts him deeply to do so, but he can't accept him either. He's too shell shocked and angry to return to caretaking, but the guilt is clearly eating at him. So he hides, and finds a way to keep avoiding it by sending Yuan away. And this led to two more fantastic scenes, because this show cares about all its characters and the entire family unit, not just the two leads.
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First, San Pang and Yuan. I love that despite making many mistakes and ultimately accelerating the implosion between the brothers, San Pang is not intentionally being malicious here. He is genuinely trying to help because he loves both Qian and Yuan, he doesn't want Qian to be hurt by Yuan's feelings, and he is clearly hoping Yuan can move on from it if he intervenes. Yuan knows this too, which is why he does not hate him despite his interference, and why he feels comfortable pushing San Pang to explain why his love for Qian is such a bad thing. I love that the show went here, and that San Pang couldn't come up with a logical reason why it's wrong. It just feels wrong to him, and isn't that the case with so much cultural taboo?
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Second, I love this show so much for not forgetting Lili in all of this. Her increasing anxiety and fear at seeing her brothers' relationship fall apart without understanding why was so heartbreaking. This is her family, and she has had her own very rough childhood and survived parental abandonment too, and suddenly everything is blowing up and no one will explain it to her. Yuan clearly doesn't want to leave her anymore than he does Qian, but at this point he's not being left with much choice. And Qian is not in a headspace to offer her any explanation or comfort. I'm glad her pain was not overlooked.
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The way this episode ended, with Yuan setting off for a lonely stint abroad, and Qian not even giving him a proper goodbye, was the final touch of heartbreak. Qian loves his brother so much, and I think he'll regret sending him away so coldly when he is finally able to process what happened here--he may already be starting to regret it, judging by the forlorn look on his face as he leaned in his doorway recalling their memories together. I was glad that at least he left Yuan a token to take with him; he can't face him right now, but he does care. Some time apart will likely do them some good, but in the meantime there will be a lot of loneliness in both their lives. This show hurts so good.
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lizzaneia-elizalde · 7 days
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Yandere(?) Jing Yuan
MY HUSBAND ✨
A little warning though. I quit playing HSR after 2.something. I don't remember. But it's because my devices can't handle it anymore :( at least I got Jing Yuan before I deleted the game. So I am probably going to put some wrong information here. Especially the timeline. Forgive me! Also,I lied. I'm not making this fic NSFW. Have some not so good angst LMAO Of course, there's spoilers so... Spoiler alert! Notes: Highly OOC Jing Yuan. He's a lonely man fr fr. Also, an extra long fic as an apology for disappearing like that lol. Also, not even sure if this counts as yandere. But just to be safe, i'm putting it here. So, dead dove, do not eat.
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Being a long time trailblazer from the Astral Express made you develop quite the wanderlust in you.
You were originally from Xianzhou. A spoiled kid of a rich family that decided to embrace the free life when the Astral Express first visited your planet.
You developed a strong friendship with Himeko and Welt, alongside treating Dan Heng and March as your little siblings/children.
When Stelle arrived in the Astral Express, it seems that your little family is complete. Sure, Stelle may be a little gremlin with a Stellaron inside, but hey. Family is family.
When the talks of going to Xianzhou appeared, you volunteered to guide Stelle and March around alongside Welt. You did miss your family, and wanted to prove that you weren't the same immature person before.
Well, you know what happened next.
The wharf being abandoned, littered with mara struck soldiers...
It seems that Xianzhou became worse for wear.
Fearing for the worst, you urged the three to follow you and defeated the Mara stricken soldiers in such precision.
Seriously. You follow Nihility since you want to be more laid back in your life. But why does life keep forcing lemons down your throat? Now, it's even your family being dragged in your bad luck!
You got dragged by the three around until you all got to the square, and immediately bade goodbye for the time being. Promising to help them as soon as they need to. For now, you need to get back to your family.
Once you got to the manor, you burst through the door and was immediately smacked to shit by your parents.
"YOU PRODIGAL CHILD! NOW YOU COME BACK HOME?! HOW DARE YOU SHOW YOUR FACE..."
A nagfest, you took in their worry filled words with a sharp edge before calming them down. You asked if any in your family have been mara stricken, but all of them shook their head thankfully enough.
Then, you noticed a man by the tea room. It seems that your parents forgot etiquette and abandoned their guest.
"AH! Forgive us, General! It's just this child... Oooh this child!"
You took a peak and was stunned.
Jing Yuan. The guy whose family is from the Realm-Keeping Commissions? And he's the general now? That's...
"You remember Yuan-yuan, right? Y/N'er?"
Oh you remember alright. How can you not? You loved this man a lot.
You squirmed under Jing Yuan's golden gaze that's filled with an unreadable emotion that you're sure had to do with your past.
And the past is what he desperately holds onto up to this day...
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"General! The astral express--"
Jing Yuan's usual relaxed demeanor stiffened, his eyes going rigid. If one looks close, the chess piece he's holding onto cracked, making it glitch.
His face softener a bit as to not scare Yanqing more who stepped back a bit.
"Is that so? Thank you for the information, Yanqing. You can go rest now."
The kid nodded before walking away and leaving Jing Yuan alone.
His world, once so bleak and dry, suddenly had a drop of rain that he once missed and took advantage of, thinking it won't go away.
"Y/N..." He whispered to himself, putting down the piece and washing his face with his palm.
Other than Jing Liu and the others, you were one of the few people he's close to. Ever since you both were in the academy, you've always didn't like his quite stubborn nature. He didn't like his academic strand, wanting to be a cloud knight.
He noticed you pulling a face whenever he cuts classes, sleeps, loafs around... Sure, you were spoiled to bits, but at least you have the decency to be good in school.
So, he made it a point to annoy you greatly. Always popping around the block wherever you were, following you while talking your ear off... Doesn't help that he's a classmate, it's a daily annoyance that you gradually welcomed over time.
It's a friendship born from being together all the time. You watch him train with Jing Liu, taught him stuff he didn't understand, and in return, he would teach you how to fend for yourself since you always told him you wanted to travel the galaxy.
And that friendship developed into something more intimate. Exchanging shy giggles, flirty whispers, firsts of everything... Even without a label other than lovers, you both knew that you two are destined and tied together. Soulmates, if you will.
He's happy that you were by his side. With the quintet and you, how much more happiness does he need in his life?
But sometimes, so much happiness meant that there will be a terrible thing happening the next day.
Fortunately for you, you left Xianzhou before the Baiheng incident in the process of saving the Xianzhou Yuque. It was a timely flight that Jing Yuan supported so that you will be safe from the chaos that will unfold.
Unfortunately for Jing Yuan though, he paid the price of seeing his friends fall one by one.
Baifeng, sacrificing herself when fighting Shuhu, Dan Feng creating a draconic abomination in the process of trying to ressurect Baifeng and solving the Vidyadhara reproduction problem, Yingxing being backfired and becoming immortal stricken with mara, and JIng Liu, also struck with mara.
He watches as his beloved quintet crumble to dust in such a short time, even defeating his own beloved master in order to save so many lives and bring justice to those lost.
Jing Yuan had no one. No one to turn to, no one to confide in.
In times like those, what he yearned is you. For you to return, for you to look at him with so much grief, concern, and care.
All he wanted is your hug, your reassurance that it wasn't his fault, and it wasn't his burden to carry.
But you didn't return. Not even a peep, not even a soul.
700 long years of waiting, of bottling up his emotions that it almost spilt over.
Sure, he's happier now, but is he truly happy?
Deep inside, he kind of resented you for being so blissfully unaware of what happened to him. Of what happened to the quintet. You never even contacted him in those 700 years. Did you just forget your relationship just like that? Did you move on from him? He thought both of you were together forever?
Then slowly, he got jealous. Of you, at first. Just travelling across the galaxies without a worry in the world. How selfish of you to just run off to the farflungs of the universe just to never contact him again. Shame on you. He's a worried lover! How can he not? Then, he got jealous of the people that you must have met. How much were they charming you that you forgot about him, your soulmate?
He started visiting your family in year 300 too. Consoling them and telling that you were gonna go back home. When? Soon. Like really soon.
He found solace in your family that started treating him as their own son. Taking care of him when he visits, entertaining him with a game of chess, maybe even talk about their life.
He also heard more stories about you. About your spoiled attitude outside of school, of your rebellious years, of your wants and needs to see the outside. It's as if he's living vicariously through your parents, and relieving your memories in order to not forget you.
Then, he starts yearning for your presence once more after just trying to forget you.
It's a never ending addictive cycle that he's lost in the deep trenches in.
You were the only constant in this godforsaken world, the wine he yearns to drown himself in in order to forget his problems. But his problem is the wine, his problem is you. But the alcoholic he is, he continue to guzzle down the addictive taste until reality blurs with fantasy. In which a picture perfect world existed were nothing went wrong, and you were still there back in his arms.
Over the years, he somehow got over it. Turned to tea, thought about stuff. But your family reminded him so much of you and told so much stories of you that he became so attached to the idea of you.
He started a little hobby of writing letters to your non-existent being. Thinking you'll read them in the future. He refuses to believe that you're dead and rotting in a ditch somewhere. He knows that you're alive. He knows it.
He wrote down what he wishes to tell you, on what he wanted to do with you once you come back like a little drink, maybe even roam around and show you what Xianzhou looks like after 700 years.
Then, it devolved into his frustrations, anger, jealousy, and grief about what happened in those measly years. On why he wanted to have you so bad with him, to have the only remaining friend with him by his side. He wants to cling to you, to finally have a full on restful sleep, but also yell at you for leaving him behind.
He thought of the people that made you forget him. Of the people that took you away from him. Yes, they may, no, they ARE the reason why you weren't returning home. They must be.
He knows he's wrong. And he's working on it. A few letters down the road had him apologizing, telling he's in the wrong, and started writing about what to do once you come back.
Until those letters carried a weight that he's thinking of.
What will happen if you decided to stay in Xianzhou this time?
What will happen if something or someone made you stay?
What if, Jing Yuan forced you stay?
An absurd idea, but those letters quickly became a drawn out plan on what he'll do to make you stay by him, by his side. Eternally until the end of both of your lifespans.
And those letters were now safely kept in his hand. They will not see the light of the day.
The time he knew that the Astral Express came to their wharf, with Yanqing telling him, he immediately ran to Fu Xuan to know who are the passengers of the train that stepped out to help.
And there you are. You chose the path of Nihility. Fitting for a person like you who wished for everything, yet nothing. A spoiled kid who only wanted meaningless vices and thrills to fill the void inside. You grew up so much just as him.
What is this feeling inside? Relief? Resentment? Guilt? Love?
Woah, love? Really? Does he really still feel love for you? Or is that just a byproduct of the putrid mix of emotions inside of him?
He always knew his feelings for you never disappeared. It was supposed to be just a harmless puppy love that is forgotten over time. Like come on, it's been seven centuries.
But seeing you there, with your mother still nagging you, and your eyes locked onto him with an excited, naive look on your face made those forgotten emotions resurface.
And unfortunately, became an unfortunate ingredient in the rancid pot of emotions he bottled up over the years.
The General, known for being laid back and relaxed, can feel that image slowly crack and crumble every step you take towards him with a smile on your face.
It's so painful. How can you have that sweet smile on your face while he had to endure so much guilt and pain that he doesn't deserve to undergo?
What's worse is that your smile was lifting so much off of his shoulders to the point that he wants to drag those problems back to his shoulders and stubbornly hold onto them just to prove you a point.
He can't believe you had so much power over him. It's driving him insane how your mere presence shook the centuries worth of healing that he did for himself.
The conflicting thoughts started to whirl in his head.
He wants you to stay, but he wants you to disappear now that you're actually here.
In those mere seconds, he composed himself and gave you a soft smile. A smile that usually had a lazy quality in them now looks rigid.
"Y/N, my love. How are you? It's been seven centuries!" Calm and composed. That's what he wishes his voice sounds like.
You, sweet, oblivious you, hugged him with such a smile on your face. After all, Jing Yuan was your lover. And you hoped that he didn't hate you that much from not communicating.
"Yuan! I'm so glad I met you here again! Wow... You're a general now! How cool is that?!"
Your excited voice grated his ears to the point that he wants to cover it vehemently, but he also wants to get a hold of it and hear it over and over again. Reassuring himself that you're actually here in the flesh with him and not just a figment of his fractured reality.
With a smile, you grabbed his hand and got out of your parents' manor, wanting to apologize to Yuan by catching up.
Are you really that insensitive? Such naive thinking that by only talking things out, the problem will be resolved. Well, in your defense, you didn't know what happened with JIng Yuan and the quintet. All you knew is that they grew apart from the looks of it.
You didn't undergo the same traumatic experience that Jing Yuan did, the agonizing isolation, the years of waiting for that somebody to come home, and your mental health devolving into something more sinister, something that crosses with your logic multiple times.
But here you are, flashing your carefree smile at the dying Jing Yuan who squeezed out a chuckle.
He wishes that you burn in hell. He wishes that HE burns in hell. He wishes to burn with you, spending the last agonizing minutes with you finally in his arms again.
He grasps your hand, wrestling out an apology in his mind to you.
But he can't let you go until you knew of the agony you left him with.
And that's going to take a lifetime with you by his side, shackled and ruined.
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It has been a whirlwind of emotions.
You saw Dan Heng, turn into your old friend Dan Feng. Well, his visage anyways. Were you that blind to not see the similarities? Or were you blocking the image out of your mind in order to protect your own peace?
And Yingxing, no, Blade. When did he turn into this immortal, suicidal maniac who wishes for nothing but death for himself and revenge?
And it's Dan Feng's fault? Dan Feng would never!
Your image of Dan Heng/Feng started to mix, making you dizzy and confused.
Baiheng. She died? Did she really? So did Dan Feng's ritual work or not? Did she reincarnate? Is she somewhere out there?
What happened in those years?!
And Jing Liu... Jing Yuan's master. Mara stricken and committed a massacre. That Jing Liu?
Jing Yuan even defeated her himself... Oh gods, did he just carry that burden all by himself? All those years... Centuries of pain and suffering that he didn't deserve.
The carnage, the aftermath, the result of grieving.
It's almost too much to bear for you.
And you were just out in the world, travelling and being all wishy washy, enjoying yourself with your newfound friends?
For gods sake, you were Jing Yuan's lover! Did you just forget about him just like that? Then those promises. Were those fake and surface level?!
How about your old friends? Did you even consider them? In those seven centuries, did you not even think of them?
Of course you did! But you swore that you thought that they're going to do fine!
Guilt riddled your weary body. Exhaustion catching up to you as you wept in your room.
So much to process, so much to grieve. It was almost too much if it weren't for Jing Yuan there to comfort you. Telling you that it was okay, that it wasn't your fault.
But what if's kept popping up your mind. What if you returned earlier? What if you were there for Jing Yuan? What if you didn't actually leave?
And Jing Yuan was so nice throughout the whole thing. You only talked to Dan Heng for a little while, but you need more time.
You felt so selfish for being like this. Why are you so affected when you weren't even there?
That's it. You weren't there. You weren't there for your friends, for Jing Yuan who only has you.
Seven centuries of loneliness... How did he even endure it?
You wanted to share the burden so bad, to be with him and atone for those time lost. You want to be there for him.
You are a terrible lover. A terrible friend, and a terrible person. Those phrases continued to mingle in your mind and wore you down to your barebones.
Now, even a sneeze from Jing Yuan warrants you to panic.
And Jing Yuan had a sick sense of satisfaction from seeing you wallow in sorrow.
Again, he knows it's wrong. He knows that he shouldn't be delighted in seeing you suffer.
But that side of him loves the attention he thinks he deserves. The care that he's deprived of, the love that he's blatantly robbed of.
So, he eggs that anxiety in yours on more by talking about the past and the pain he went through, his eyes narrowing in an indescribable stare as your person gets hammered down more and more.
It was eating him alive. But he assures himself that this is just temporary. Once he felt satisfied, he will start fixing you up again good as new.
And, as your parents urged you to finally marry Jing Yuan, and you nodding in desperation to make it up to him more from the centuries of neglect as his lover, Jing Yuan apologizes in his mind once more, and holds you close.
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Hello love, you certainly gave everyone a scare. They're all just thrilled to see you safe and sound. As for this latest little game of yours, thank the stars it's over. Did you have fun? Did you get everything out of your system? Good, good. Everyone is so relieved. Welcome home, Y/n. -Jing Yuan
(Original, unedited quote from White Diamond in Steven Universe)
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kquil · 1 year
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SIRIUS BLACK | 09:19 ⏤A LITTLE PIECE OF HEAVEN
SUM. : after sirius escapes azkaban he is determined to get to hogwarts but as exhaustion kicks in, he is rescued and freed, experiencing a little piece of heaven through you and your daughter...
G. : post azkaban sirius ; single mother reader au ; fluff ; sirius needs some love ; padfoot gets cuddles and kisses ; your daughter is adorable
LENGTH : 1.9k
NOT PROOFREAD OR EDITED
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Sirius needed a break but he knew he needed to keep going, twelve years of being unjustly locked away in the worse prison that ever existed had helped him build up a lifetime’s worth of vengeance but the adrenaline of escaping Azkaban in his animagus form was gradually dissipating and the tremor in his limbs was becoming all too present to be ignored any longer.   
Finally succumbing to his exhaustion, Sirius fell against an aged fountain decorating the centre of a small village not too far from Hogwarts just as small droplets of rain pelted down lightly before picking up to a shower. Sirius quickly looked around before dashing forth to take shelter under the window sill of a local bakery. It wasn’t adequate but it’ll do. He’ll rest tonight and continue his journey to Hogwarts again in the morning. 
If he closes his eyes, he can pretend that the rain isn’t there for a moment and finally succumb to some sleep. The time is hard to tell from the clouds that covered most of the sky but if he had to guess, it was turning into the late afternoon so if he managed to sleep a few hours, he could still make it to Hogwarts on time. It’s been a long journey and was made longer by the people that disregarded and mistreated his animagus form, taking him for a stray. It wasn’t as bad as the treatment he received in Azkaban but the unwanted stares, abusive words and occasional kick to his side reminded him that despite escaping the prison, he was still not a free man - that was his worst torment. 
Just as Sirius begins to sink into sleep, he suddenly hears an adorable, childish voice call out, “Puppy!” opening his eyes, his head and ears perk towards a cute little girl in a pair of yellow wellies and a matching yellow raincoat running up to him with a smile. Her head was hooded but the small strands of baby hairs on her forehead clung to her face from the rain and a toothy, chubby-cheeked grin was on her face. She grins at him happily, making his head tilt in confusion - what an odd creature, cute, innocent and without an ounce of hatred in her little body, she’s a breath of fresh air. Once she had made it a few steps away from him, she waved a small hand in greeting. 
Sirius finds her adorable and nods back calmly, rising up to a sitting position, the aches of his earlier exhaustion suddenly dissipating from his bones. His response makes her burst into a fit of giggles.
“Hi puppy!” she greets more formally but also with even more excitement than her earlier acknowledgement of him. She steps forward and outstretches a hand to pet him, she’s clearly excited but her pets were gentle and welcome. It’s been a long time since Sirius had been greeted with such kindness and affection, he quite enjoys the treatment. Looking like a stray didn’t help his predicament at all as he was largely dismissed by many people but this little girl in front of him was pure light, he hopes she grows up with the same light that never dwindles but only brightens. He hopes Harry is like her, “Cute puppy! Good puppy!” She praises highly, continuing her pets as Sirius continues to enjoy the affection, touch-starved and always an attention seeker, he was given a little piece of heaven in that moment.
“Ellie!” you call out in relief spotting her in front of a large black dog and quickly making your way over, your umbrella gripped tightly in your hand. Whilst there was an original spike of fear in your heart at seeing the imposing creature, when you saw how calm and gentle he was being with her, your shoulders relaxed and a softness eased into your expression, “Honey, don’t go running off like that, okay? It’s dangerous and you made me really worried,”  
Sirius had a lot of questions. Were you her older sister? Her babysitter? You were gorgeous. He attributes the thought to not having seen anything beautiful in so long, even when running through the streets to Hogwarts a majority of women and men dismissed him which only soured their image in his eyes.   
“Sorry mummy,” there was his answer. You were the little girl's mother. It was a shocking revelation but it didn’t take away from your beauty, “but look at the puppy!” the little girl - Ellie - squeals happily and Sirius cracks a smile, her merriment was contagious. Was that the result of a truly loving mother, he wonders. 
You smile lovingly at your daughter, her love for animals a characteristic you both shared, “he’s quite the handsome fella, isn’t he?” with his fur in the way, Sirius blushed freely from your compliment. A mangy mutt like him? From a stunning woman like you? 
“He’s my friend now!” Ellie smiles and giggles when Sirius noses her cheek affectionately. It’s been too long since he was last considered a friend and to be the friend of this sweet girl was an honour. She’s an adorable girl that makes his heart sing from the vast extent of her wholesomeness. She is definitely the product of love in its purest form. How lucky your husband must be to have such a beautiful wife and daughter, there was a slight pang of jealousy in Sirius’s heart, however. If the war never happened and he never went to Azkaban would he have had a family like this too?
“That’s wonderful news honey but we need to return home quickly before you catch a cold,” you pointed out, the worry furrowing your brows. 
“I want Puppy to come too…” Ellie whines looking down at her wellies and biting her lip as she clutches adorably at the hem of her raincoat. It was a cute display but Sirius highly doubts you would allow that to happen…
“You think so?” you hum in contemplation, shocking Sirius when you didn’t outright protest the idea; not everyone is open to taking in strays. What is this sudden luck and kindness he’s happened across?
“Please mummy, please!” Ellie pleads with her biggest puppy eyes and a wobbly bottom lip. 
“He does seem like a good boy…” you ponder aloud as Sirius’s heart races with hope, “alright, he can come home with us,”
“Yay! Puppy! Come home with us!” Sirius is pulled into a hug around the neck from Ellie’s little arms and savours the short moment happily. This type of warmth is more pleasant than from any crackling fire; he wants to appreciate the feeling as much as possible. 
With Ellie at his side and you on his other, the two of you lead him to your home. For tonight, Sirius will be greedy and selfish. He can allow himself this much after twelve years of torture. It’s been far too long since he last had a warm and welcoming place to stay.  
Once home, you already knew you had a lot on your plate, especially with your new guest. Your first order of business was getting you and Ellie dry but a simple spell could fix that. Your new furry friend needed a more thorough washing, however. In your occupied state, you missed the shocked, wide-eyed stare Sirius gave your wand but he quickly blinked his shock away when you led him to the bath. Thankfully, Ellie was up for washing her new friend clean. It took a little longer as you wanted to give him a thorough wash but that was anticipated, at least the activity helped you work up an appetite. 
Rid of his annoying fleas as well as all the mud and dirt his fur had accumulated, Sirius guiltlessly followed Ellie around your cosy home while you made a start on dinner. It was comforting to know that you were a witch too but as Ellie gave him the grand tour of each room, especially hers, Sirius came to notice the absence of a very important male figure in the home. Dinner was soon served however, and Sirius hadn’t had the chance to ponder on the issue too long.
“Mummy’s cooking is the best, right Puppy?” Ellie announced mid bite, her cheeks swelled up like a greedy chipmunk as she looked down at Sirius, who barked in return. There was no dog food in the house so you just gave him sausages, mash and vegetables too. It was heavenly finally being able to have a nice warm meal.  
Dinner was over sooner than Sirius expected, he had quite the appetite so he finished his food quickly. Noticing this, Ellie saved him one of her sausages and fed it to him herself. 
“You’re such a sweet girl, Ellie,” you praised your daughter for her kindness as Sirius licked her face in thanks. She really was a sweet girl. 
Soon enough, Sirius found himself curled up under a warm blanket with Ellie who insisted on cuddling him by the fireplace. While Ellie petted and kissed his head under the blanket they shared together, you sat on the couch embroidering a handkerchief whilst telling a whimsical story about fairies, trolls and an adventurous knight, smiling as Ellie’s yawns and sleepy mutterings increased by the minute. Sirius noticed it too and anticipated she would be falling asleep soon, confessing that he was also on the way to a peaceful night’s rest. 
As your story came to an end, Ellie knew you were soon going to lead her to bed and tried to prolong the night as best as she could with a distraction, “Mummy, give Puppy kisses too,” 
You knew exactly what your daughter's ulterior motives were but complied with her request anyway, “Alright dear,” you set aside your embroidery and came to kneel down beside the two. Sirius’ heart was beating rapidly in his chest and he halted his breathing as he watched you lean in and pepper him with kiss after kiss after kiss, just like your daughter. Heavenly. Sirius was so happy he didn’t protest returning to your home because he had never felt so at peace. For a blissful moment, he wasn’t Sirius the falsely accused murderer of his best friend, he was just Puppy. The new identity was freeing and Sirius wished he could live like this forever. 
Cuddling and kissing him made Sirius blush furiously under his fur as he practically melted into your lap loving the attention and affection. 
“Maybe we should keep him,” you voiced, smiling fondly as Sirius picked his head up from your lap, “we need a man around the house,” Sirius felt both equal amounts of happiness and sadness all at once. As much as he has grown to love you both in the short time you’ve spent together, he knows he can’t stay longer than tonight; Harry is waiting for him and Peter needs to be exposed for his evil deeds. Sirius is only allowing himself tonight to be selfish and that was it. He can’t risk endangering the two of you either; he needs to leave as soon as possible. 
“Yes yes yes! Puppy stays!” Ellie cheers, her sleepiness evident in that her hurrahs were much more demure than they were earlier that day. 
“We’ll have to name him though, we can’t call him puppy forever, dear,”
Ellie ponders to herself with the cutest expression, “Black!- No! Noir! That means black in french mummy,” she finalises. 
“I see I see, that seems like a fitting name for our handsome friend,” you affectionately stroke Sirius’s head as he chuckles to himself, how ironic this whole situation was. 
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A/N: im a sucker for domestic, single parent au's and i just want to comfort my comfort characters so here you go!
NAVI.
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iloveyou-writers · 10 months
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Dear Beloveds (Writers),
Hello again. ~
I have a few things I would like to say to you... please take these messages to heart instead of arguing that they don't pertain to you because yes, yes they do. They pertain to every one of you.
1 - I don't care how impatient your readers get as you're taking your breaks, you deserve to have them. Not just because you're putting out writing, but because you exist. Even when you're not in the midst of writing, which can be a really draining activity of its own right, but because you exist, which can also be exhausting. Please take care of your mind. Your readers can wait.
2 - Quality over quantity. It's better to have fewer readers/followers but that respect you and your time and are patient and kind to you than to have thousands of them that have no respect for you. Choose quality over quantity every time. It's better for you and your mental health.
3 - Your mental health should always come first. Feel exhausted? Get rest. Feel burnt out? Take a break. A reader constantly bringing you down? Block them. It's okay. You'll have other readers. Your mental health comes first.
4 - FANFICTION IS REAL WRITING. They're putting in the time. They're putting in the research, the effort, the blood sweat and tears. They're doing all the same work original fic writers are. Sometimes even more, so respect them as writers. Support them. Love them and appreciate them. Stop being elitist about writing. We all struggle, stop making it worse for them.
5 - Thank you. You are wonderful and deserve so much love and support for what you do. Remember that you are appreciated, even if it doesn't feel like it. You are loved and appreciated.
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yourheart-inmyhands · 5 months
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YOU HAVE A CAT?! ME TOO?!
She hates me tho :(
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Zhongli, Neuvillette and Dottore
With a fox!darling that is always with animals and isn't social at all due to heavy torture in her past and they discover it? 💀
Man I'm in need of some gore rn 💀💀
- Weird anon ✨
i'm so sorry but i just couldn't write neuvillette for this prompt, he's too precious DX
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Warning: this post contains yandere-themes, including being held against will, delusional behaviors, torture, breaking of bones, and other potential topics. Please Read At Your Own Risk!
Yandere!Zhongli sympathizes with you, and since it’s clear that the animals bring you comfort, he allows you to keep a couple when he moves you in with him. He even goes the extra mile and builds a special enclosure so they’ll be just as content as you are, even if you aren’t receptive to his love yet. 
When he finds out about your past, which is inevitable with how overbearing he can be and how good he is at finding out things from the locals, it almost hurts his heart a little. But the more sickening side of him is thrilled because now he knows exactly how to get to you, exactly how to make you his perfect little spouse.
Whether it’s be reintroducing trauma through breaking bones, locking you in a cold, damp room with no lights for hours on end, or even things that border on torture, he’ll use it against you so long as it won’t entirely ruin you. While he wants you compliant to his whims and wishes, he doesn’t want you to be a shell, it would’ve been a waste of his time to break you to that point;
Zhongli would never stop as low as hurting your animal friends, but if need be he could certainly find ways to turn them against you. It’s almost amusing to him, the way you care so much for creatures who you’ll outlive. How you care so much for creatures who don’t even really know you, funny.
The sickening crunch of bone echoes through the room as Zhongli stands over you, the heel of his shoe digging into the freshly crushed bones in your leg. The makeshift gag, a towel from the kitchen, dug into the sides of your mouth as it muffled your screams and cries. The Geo Archon almost feels bad for using his strength in such a brutal manner, but it would all be worth it, at least that was how he justified it to himself. It wasn’t about the now, but rather what now would soon be bringing him. By breaking you down bit by bit, sending you spiraling back into some of the worst moments of your life, he could slowly rebuild your shattered pieces how he saw fit. What use was a puzzle if the pieces weren’t in the correct order, right?
Yandere!Dottore is sick, sick, twisted, and absolutely disgusting. If he wasn’t the cause of your original trauma, you could surely bet he’d be the driving force behind re-traumatizing you. 
Whether he chooses to reenact every step, or to simply do something far worse than what had previously done it all dependent on how he feels that day. Some days will be so similar to your past that you’ll truly feel like you were back there, all those years ago. Other days are so awful it almost makes what happened in your past seem insignificant as if that were a stone among boulders resting on the ocean floor. 
Dottore does think it’s funny though, using it as both amusement and research opportunities. It wasn’t often that animals such as yourself came across his table, so of course he’d taken the prime subject as soon as he’d laid eyes on you.
In his lab, you aren’t seen as anything but a thing that exists only for Dottore’s own gain. If you’re lucky one of his more sympathetic clones might take pity on you and actually give you a day to rest when he’s out of the Palace, but they’re expected to keep up the same treatment he inflicts in his absence.
It was almost sickening to the segments as the watched the fox-human endure soul shaking torture day in and day out. Everything from injections to straight up live surgery to see how much pain the body could take whilst awake had occurred on the cold, steel table. They were often left to clean up the mess, expected to stitch you up, administer antidotes to anything too harmful that had been administered today, and even sometimes bathe you due to the mess that had occurred. You’d been fed little since you arrived, given water only when necessary for your survival, and hadn’t seen sunlight in days- or months maybe? With the sickening way time seemed to pass, you couldn’t tell how long you’d been here. Your only reprieve would be when the doctor left for something more pressing, leaving you in the care of his segments that only sometimes took pity on you. Some seemed to hold a little more humanity than others.
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corrodedcoffins-blog · 2 months
Text
Royal Meeting
quinn hughes x royal!reader
note: I love them!!!
word count: 1.8 k
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This tour was a year in the making, the Princess of Cambridge touring Canada with her father now ruling. Y/n was named the people’s princess after Diana, the people of England saw a lot of her mother in her. So with her father being someone the public doesn’t have the best view of, it was her job to possibly help restore that.
Starting on the east coast and heading west, the princess was on her second to last stop, Vancouver, before she would be heading over the province's capital. Going to a hockey game with Harry and Meghan was not in the original plan, but the woman was never one to follow plans set out for her. But she could also never pass up spending time with her older brother and Meghan.
Stepping out of the car the woman waves to the people waiting outside, grabbing flowers and giving out hugs; even if she wasn’t supposed to.
She was told by her assistant that Harry and Meghan would meet her in the dressing room halls. Not that she needed to know that given she would just be following her security.
“Meghan!” Seeing her sister-in-law she passes the two security men in front of her, bringing the other woman into a large hug. “Hello, Y/n! So good to see you it’s been to
long!” “I know! I miss my little niece and nephew! Oh- Harry you’re here too, hello.” The brother and sister both exchange a chuckle, bringing each other into a hug.
The three half-watched warm-ups in the lounge, mostly catching up. But they had to stay down there to wait for puck drop.
-
After getting announced, Harry and Y/n walked out side by side. Looking around at the teams, the girl notices the handsome faces, though one in particular stood out among the rest. On the Canucks the man with the ‘C’ on his jersey, with the most beautiful swept back hair, and facial hair. Y/n loved facial hair, believing it would make any man instantly more attractive. His eyes were dark in the lighting of the area, but she was sure there was more to them up close.
And that she was right, being as he was the captain he would take the ceremonial face off, meaning Y/n could get a closer look at his features. 
“Hello.” He said, shaking her hand then doing the same to her brother. His american accent was adorable, and his voice was such a pleasant sound, one she could fall asleep to. She was so entranced with him, she didn’t even say hello back, he probably thought she was rude. In her mind she was patting herself on the back for such a good first impression. 
She zoned out, only getting snapped back into reality when the cameras flashed, waiting for a moment her brother never dropped the puck. It made her laugh, thankful she wasn’t the only one making a lousy impression. Whispering to her brother she said, “H, you have to drop the puck.”
Everyone let out a small chuckle, it was all in good fun. 
-
Throughout the game she couldn’t help but have her eyes be drawn to the Canucks captain, who she now learned was named Quinn. It was a name that suited him, she felt that he gave off the same energy as the letter ‘Q’ if that makes sense. 
Quinn got a goal and an assist, both of which the woman stood up and clapped for. She couldn’t help herself, and she was sure Meghan noticed. During the time Harry went to the washroom, Meghan leaned over and whispered, “He’s cute. Number 43?” “Oh piss off.”
-
After the game, and after saying bye to Harry and Meghan, Y/n decided to do something she never thought she would ever do. 
She waited outside the home team’s dressing room. Why? She had no clue. How was she going to start a conversation? She had no clue. And with her security around her at all times, it made it a lot worse, because she had an audience.
And before she could over think, the man of her hour came out, “Hi, you’re Quinn Hughes, right? The captain?” 
He looked a little shocked that she was talking to him, making eye contact with both her security guards before her as if to say ‘you guys believe this?’ but nonetheless he nods, not having the ability to talk in the presence of her, and her beauty, and the way her confidence was almost seeable in the air. “You played amazing, I mean from what I know about hockey.” She lets out a small breath of air out of her nose in a half-laugh. 
“Oh- Thank you.” He knows that to carry on a conversation you should maybe say something back to provoke more words, yet in his state of being at the moment he wasn’t quite sure he could do that.
“I was actually wondering..” taking a deep breath, she prepares for the worst. The ‘I have a girlfriend’ or the ‘I have plans’ “If you were busy tonight? I know we haven’t even met yet, but I don’t really do this.” she gestures to the general area, and seeing a slight bit of confusion on the man’s face she alaperates, “I mean like- my family has always set up dates for me, I’ve never done this, so I don’t know how to do this. And now I have over-explained and over-shared so now you’ll really say no.”
Unbeknownst to her, the man found her ‘over-explaining’ and ‘over-sharing’ endearing. Her flustered state as she asks him out, the rosyness on her cheeks and her large smile while she talks. Were all things he hadn’t seen until now, and he loved every new thing he discovered about her. 
“I’m not busy tonight… We could go to this restaurant I know, or if you don’t want to be in public I understand and we could just go to my place? I don’t have roommates.” 
He was so adorably awkward while speaking and he was understanding and kind, every man her family had set her up with had never been this understanding of her status, they had always either used it to their advantage, or were jealous of it. But not Quinn. In the couple minutes they talked, she felt in her gut that he had honourable morals.
With a smile spreading on the girl’s face she replies, “I would love to go to your place.” At her words a matching grin is growing on Quinn’s face, placing his hand on her back as he leads her out to his car. 
-
The two were settled on Quinn’s couch, some american movie on in the background while they spoke. Learning more and more about each other. In the safety of his flat, and her security outside Y/n felt free to be herself.
“I have two younger brothers-” “ I have two older brothers! Continue, what do they do? Hockey?” “Yeah, they both play on the New Jersey Devils.” “It must be hard seeing them get to play together while you’re not.” “It does sting sometimes, during summer when they’ll tell their stories of living together without mom as a mediator. But I mean, they’re my little brothers and I couldn’t be more happy for them and I have my friends here. So it’s not all bad.” 
Subconsciously, the man's arm fell from resting on the back of the couch to now rest on the girl’s shoulder, urging her to curl into his body more. “Are you close to your mom?” “We don’t have to talk about my mom.” Quinn might know much about Y/n’s family, but he knew that she never knew her mother, Princess Diana. 
“It doesn’t bother me. Talking about my mom if that’s what you're worried about.” “I assumed it would be a not first date appropriate conversation.” “Right. No trauma on the first date, rule 101.” The two broke into laughs, probably caused by the wine they were drinking. Y/n decided to divulge into lighter conversation, “Now. This question is very important to me.” The woman adjusted her sitting position to now sitting on the couch facing Quinn, his hand now rubbing up and down on her upper arm, “Are you a dog or a cat person?”
Letting out a breath of relief Quinn says, “Thank god, I thought it would be a question about tea.” “What, just because I’m British my life must revolve around tea?” “So you wouldn’t be offended when I tell you I don’t like tea?” “You don’t like tea?!” Quinn laughs at her over-exaggeration, “I should have known better, you are American.” “Hey!” “Dogs or cats?” Y/n stubbles out between giggles at the sight of Quinn’s face.
“If I get this wrong, is the date off?” “Well, that in combination with not liking tea..” “I’m a dog person.” “Correct!”
-
Later in the night the two were still on Quinn’s couch, now actually watching what was playing on the TV. No longer shy about their cuddling, Quinn was lying on his back with Y/n between his legs on top of the man. His hands playing with hers, lacing their fingers together and swaying them back and forth.
All night Y/n couldn’t help but think about the fact that this never felt like a first date. Well it did in the way of getting to know each other but they never had that awkward first date silence. It felt as if they had been friends long before now. 
They talked about Quinn first moving to Vancouver and how he loves it here now. Y/n also mentioning how she loves Vancouver. It felt as if both were tiptoeing around the subject Quinn living in Vancouver and Y/n in England. She would love to move to Vancouver, in the future. The woman had always wanted to live in another country and Canada always seemed like a good choice. But of course she wouldn’t be telling Quinn this, it was in fact a first date.
“I’m headed to Victoria tomorrow afternoon. But I’ll only be there for three days, then the tours over and I head back home.” She could see the hope leave Quinn’s eyes, so quickly she cleared up what she was getting at, “But, I don’t have to. I could come back here.” At her words Quinn beams, excited at the idea of seeing her again so soon.
“The 24th I’ll be in Seattle.” “Then I’ll fly to Seattle, watch you play again.” “I would love that, princess.” 
No one had ever called Y/n ‘princess’ as a pet name, only at events or being introduced to someone. And never did she think she would love being called princess this much. She thought if anything it would weird her out if someone ever did. But when it came from Quinn’s mouth, from his beautiful lips, and deep voice. She would love anything he called her.
~taglist~
@inejghafawifesblog @ghostwritermia @shallow678 @definitly-creative-words @caro8409 @anotherfan07
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nvrsaidiwasinurcloset · 3 months
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hii, idk if this is too complex but could you maybe do ethan landry x fem reader smut where he died (we all know the plot in scream 6) but like here he was just supposedly dead and actually alive but spent a few months in a psych ward and during this the reader is his ex girlfriend as they broke up one year before the events from 2023 since she didn’t want to accept him killing people for revenge but as months passed, she found out that he “died” so she took care of everything in his place, killing the core four and all and at that point she became very depressed as she still couldn’t get over him but then he suddenly appears in her life again (idk how tho, this can take place in the forest or at her house or idk) it can start a bit angst and then leading to smut with them being a bit eager as they haven’t done it in a long time. you can mention ethan having some scars somewhere on his face btw! (srry again if this is too complex 😭)
My sweet, SWEET anon. I finally have this done, thank you for being so patient with me💕 I appreciate you messaging me so I could run some ideas I had by you lol
Meet Me at Our Spot - Ethan Landry x Fem!Reader
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This contains SMUT - Minors DNI
Summary: You think Ethan died at the theater, so you got revenge. He isn't dead though, and you run into him at your spot.
A/N: Hi! The anon that requested this messaged me earlier to help me with some plot ideas I had, cause you know I'm a bitch that LOVES a plot. If you guys have requested something and I haven't written it yet, it could be that I'm stumped and trying to figure it out. Just message me if you're like...damn why's she taking so long lol.
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“Get the fuck out!” You screamed at Ethan, as tears streamed down both of your faces.
“Why are you doing this?” he cried, his eyes pleading with yours.
“I can’t be with someone as cold-hearted as you,” you snapped, nudging him out the front door and slamming it in his face.
That was the last time you saw Ethan. After you accidentally overheard the plan his family concocted to get revenge for Richie’s death, you called him out on it. He argued that it’s what he needed to do, and that you should love him regardless. You couldn’t, not if he was going to spend the rest of his life in prison, or worse, end up dead. You were hoping the break-up would make him realize that he shouldn’t do it, and just stay with you. He didn’t though, starting college not even a month later. You stayed home, opting for online courses like you both originally planned on doing.
When you saw the news that people had died in the same area of his university, you knew he had something to do with it. You couldn’t reach out to the cops, because his dad was a well-respected detective. No one would believe you. Plus, your own safety would be at risk. Ethan made that perfectly clear during your heated argument.
Your heart sank when you heard about what happened at the abandoned theater. When you saw that Ethan was one of the suspects, and that he was found deceased, you couldn’t control your emotions as you wailed in the otherwise silent house. After you read about what happened to him, you started to understand why he felt like he needed to avenge Richie’s death, because that’s exactly how you were feeling. You wanted to get back at the people who took him from you.
You started with Kirby. She was the one that ultimately took him from you. You started to feel satisfied, but you knew you couldn’t stop until they all died. You went to Chad and Mindy, then Tara and Sam. Even with you finishing what Ethan and his family started, you still felt so empty without him.
You never read anything else about Ethan after you did what you needed to do, the thought of him being gone made you too sad to even think about it. You did keep tabs on what was happening in the investigations into your crimes, but they never had any leads. If you had kept up with the news on Ethan, you would’ve seen that the first news reports were wrong, and that he did survive.
The attempts to keep your day-to-day life normal became impossible. Your parents were always traveling, so you mostly had the place to yourself. All you wanted to do was lay in bed and cry, your living space reflecting that. You finally decided to get up and clean, coming across so many little gifts and things Ethan had gotten you over the two years you were together. When you came across the first note he wrote to you when you were juniors in high school, you started to sob. His handwriting on the page in front of you made you feel like you had a piece of him. Then, you saw the ‘Meet me at our spot’ at the bottom of the page. The spot he first told you he loved you.
He was so nervous that day, his cheeks pink as he finally got those three words out, terrified that you wouldn’t say it back. You did, though. You knew with everything in you that you were meant to be with him. You thought back to the times that you’d pass him in the hallway on your way to class, the two of you not having much time to talk. He’d say “forever” as his eyes connected with yours, and you’d always say it back. It was so simple, but he wanted you to know how much he loved you, and that you’d always have his heart.
You slipped your shoes on before heading out the door. You knew you needed to go to the spot in the woods that the two of you would always go whenever you needed to get away from life. You sat on the log you’d always sit on, crying as you touched the empty space beside you.
“I miss you so fucking much,” you sobbed, letting out so many emotions. The anger, the sadness, and the heartache overwhelming you.
“I never thought I’d see you here,” you heard, as the leaves crunched behind you.
Your head snapped in the direction of the voice, your chest getting tight as you saw Ethan standing there.
“Fuck, I really am going crazy,” you cried, taking a deep breath.
You didn’t want to look away. Even if this was a figment of your imagination, seeing him was something you so badly needed.
“You aren’t crazy,” he said, stepping closer to you.
You noticed some scars on his face, but he was still beautiful. Your heart swelled as you shut your eyes tight and reopened them, to see him still standing there.
“I’m real. I told you; you aren’t going crazy.”
You stood up and started to walk a little closer to him. His brown eyes met yours before looking at the ground, his facial expression unreadable.
“Ethan…How?” was all you got out, your brain not fully processing what was happening.
“It doesn’t surprise me that you didn’t keep track of what happened to me,” he said, turning around to walk in the opposite direction of you.
“What the fuck do you mean? You died! It was all over the news!” you yelled, as he kept walking. “Ethan, please stop.”
He stopped, his back still turned to you.
“How could you just break up with me like that? How could you just throw me away?” he said, finally turning to look at you. Tears stained his cheeks as he waited for you to respond. He’s waited over a year for an answer. “Forever must not mean much to you.”
“It doesn’t?! Then why did I finish what you started? Why did I kill for you?” you snapped, as his eyes grew wide.
“That was you?” he asked, “You’re so stupid!”
He quickly walked back towards you but kept a few feet of space in between. It was like he was too scared to get close.
“I understand why you wanted to do what you did for Richie. I couldn’t stop thinking about the people that hurt you being out there, living their lives when yours was over,” you sobbed, as he wiped the tears from his cheeks. “I said forever, and I meant it.”
He closed the space between the two of you, his lips connecting with yours. The kiss was aggressive, like you both needed it so badly for so long that you never wanted your mouths to stop moving. His hands were roaming everywhere he could reach. Your hips, your ass, your breasts. Every new area he touched had you whimpering into the kiss.
He pulled away, looking into your eyes. “I need you, baby.”
You knew what he meant; his tone full of lust. You looked around at the dead leaves and twigs on the ground, realizing that it wasn’t the most comfortable place for you to go at it for a long time, which is what you fully intended on doing.
“My parents are out of town. Let’s go,” you said, grabbing his hand as you ran with him through the woods back to your place.
Once you made it inside the front door and closed it, he shoved you up against it. You were both breathing heavy from the running, and from the anticipation.
“Have you fucked anyone since me?” he asked, his eyes dark as they looked into yours.
“No, I’ve only wanted you,” you said, as he started to smirk.
“Good, because that pussy belongs to me,” he growled, before roughly kissing you. Your arms went around his neck as his hands went to your waist, lifting you off the ground. Your legs instinctively wrapped around his hips. You could feel his cock though his jeans as it pressed against your ass, the feeling making you moan against his lips.
He carried you over to the couch, not wanting to waste a single second of time. You only pulled apart from the kiss when you both took your shirts off. You noticed the scars on his shoulder and chest, gently running your fingers over them as he started to unbutton your jeans.
You couldn’t help but wonder what the full story was. What happened after you thought he was dead?   Those thoughts were quickly pushed to the side as he slid your jeans and panties down in the same motion.
“You have no idea how bad I’ve wanted to taste you again,” he said, leaning in and licking your clit.
“Oh shit,” you whined, your fingers going to his hair as his mouth moved faster against you. “Fuck I missed you eating me out.”
He moved his mouth lower, his tongue dipping inside your dripping core. He kept moving his tongue, the sounds flooding out of your mouth going straight to his throbbing cock.
He moved back up to focus on your clit as he slid a finger in you, before adding another. Your pussy was sucking his fingers in as the wet sounds filled the room.
“Oh fuck, right there!” you cried out as the pads of his fingers moved against that special spot inside of you. “Fuck, just like that. Yesss.”
You started to move your hips against his fingers and mouth as his free hand had a strong grip on your thigh. It didn’t take long for his fingers to move faster, and that feeling you hadn’t felt in so long started to creep up. Yeah, you’d been able to get off a couple times by yourself, but nothing ever compared to how Ethan does it.
“You’re going to make me cum,” you whimpered, the intensity of the feeling getting stronger and stronger as your hips started to jerk. Ethan just kept going, his fingers and mouth not slowing as tears started to slip down your face. The orgasm was so strong as you babbled out, the things you were saying not making any sense.
When you started to relax onto the couch and your hips stilled, he slid out his fingers. You whined at the emptiness, as he started to laugh. “God, baby, you’re so needy.”  He quickly got out of his jeans and slid his boxers down, not wanting another second of time to pass without him being inside of you.
He crawled on top of you and lined up at your entrance. You squealed as he slid inside of you, the fullness making your breath hitch in your throat.
“Fuck, so tight,” he groaned, “I missed this so fucking much.”
“I missed it too,” you moaned, as he started to thrust harder. “Oh fuck!”
You were whining as his hips pounded into you, the relentless pace turning your brain to mush. He started to slow down a little, not wanting to cum too quickly.
“Let me ride you, baby,” you whimpered, “Please, I need it.”
He groaned at your words, sliding out long enough to sit on the couch. You straddled him as he gripped the base of his erection for you to sink down onto him.
“Oh my god,” you whined out, as your hands held onto the back of the couch and his hands went to your breasts.
He massaged them before taking one of your nipples into his mouth, moaning around it as your hips started to move quicker. He noticed you weren’t going all the way down, his size a little too much for you to handle.
“Aww, baby. Is it too much for you?” he asked sweetly, before grabbing your hips and fucking the rest of his cock up in you.
“Fuck fuckfuck,” you cried out, feeling the tears well up again from the pleasure. “I can’t take it.”
“Yeah you can baby, just relax. You’re doing so good for me,” he cooed, as you started to meet his thrusts with your hips. The sound of your ass slapping against his thighs echoing off the walls. “So fucking good.”
One of his hands left your hip and started to rub quick circles on your swollen clit, your walls starting to flutter the second he did it.
“You getting close, baby?” he asked, his lustful eyes looking into the ones that you were struggling to keep open.
“Mhm,” you whimpered, your eyes screwing shut as you moved as fast as you could, chasing your orgasm. “Gonna-fuck..cum,” you got out, as he added a little more pressure to your clit. “Holy fuck!”
His hands went back to your hips as you started to go limp in his arms, too fucked out to move. He bounced you on him, chasing his own orgasm. All you could do was whimper, the tears trickling out of your eyes at the feeling. He pulled out of you, his cum shooting all over your tummy and his.
“Hey, hey baby,” he said softly, “Are you okay?”
He wiped the tears from your cheeks as before you relaxed onto him.
“That felt so good,” you said, your head resting against his chest.
“I didn’t hurt you, did I?”
“No baby, it was perfect.”
You stayed there pressed against him as his fingers ran up and down your bare back. It felt so nice to have him back, and you never wanted to let him go again.
“What happened? Like after you were found?” you asked, your fingers running over the scars again.
He sighed, nervous to tell you all the gory details. “I had a faint pulse when they found me. They didn’t expect me to make it. I lost a lot of blood, and had some head trauma,” he said, as you sat up a little to look at him. “Then after I started to get better, they started talking about court and I got interrogated. But someone started their own little killing spree. I started to lie, saying that the real killer that was helping dad and Quinn must still be out there if people were still dying and I was sitting in the hospital.”
“And they believed you?” you asked, waiting for him to continue.
“Yeah, not at first, but the evidence didn’t add up to me aside from the robe I was wearing. I told them that dad roped me into it…and that he threated to kill me if I didn’t participate.”
“I still can’t believe they let you out,” you said, still amazed that he was right in front of you.
“I was in there for a while, and I’ve been on so many different medications to deal with the health issues I have now…I’ll tell you about those later. But if it wasn’t for you doing what you did, I would still be in there,” he said, his hands rubbing along your sides. “When I came back, I started staying with my aunt who thinks I was this manipulated, innocent person. She takes me to all my appointments to make sure I don’t have to go back to the psych ward.”
“Why didn’t you come see me?” you asked, feeling a little hurt that he’d been home for a while and didn’t bother to try to see you.
“I thought you didn’t want to see me, so I’ve been going to our spot every single day, just to think. I’d always hoped I’d run into you there,” he said, his voice cracking as he started to tear up. “I just love you so much.”
“I love you too, baby. Forever.” You smiled, “Today was the first time I’ve been there since you left. I found a note from you earlier and I just had to go there,” you said, wiping the tears off his cheeks.
“I’m so happy you did.”
He held you there for a while, loving the way your body felt against him.
“Babe, you wanna go shower? Your cum is still all over us,” you giggled, as his hands gripped your hips.
“Who said I was done with you yet?”
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