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purplecritter · 1 year

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theories/thoughts/analysis about touchstarved after playing the demo a few times

Under the cut because it got long (I exceeded the post character limit...) Also spoilers btw. PS: All the links are to posts on the official social media accounts or their kickstarter, with the exception of the animated trailer screenshots that I got from here.

(Happy one month since demo dropped!)

Mhin

I'm starting with them because I play favorites.

Mhin's silhouette [1, 2] in the animated trailer [screenshot] highlights the crying eye (guilt? pain? blood? Their pupils almost seem to glow red, I wonder if it's connected) and the beak (in a way that reminds me of the skull of a bird rather than a live one).

The red choice connected to them is about asking if they're a scientist: their precision is almost surgical, though when asked if they've studied anatomy or medicine their reply is “Not quite” so it must be something similar enough.

When Vere complains about their first encounter with Mhin, he mentions that their dagger (visible in their in-game art) is an antique. Perhaps they inherited it, maybe from a mentor? It’s a curious choice of weapon for a hunter: stilettos (it’s described as such in the demo) aren’t ineffective in battle (especially if wielded by a physically strong fighter, which they absolutely are), but they are favored by assassins because they’re easy to conceal, they strike precisely and deeply but without letting much blood leak from the needle-thin wound.

As far as design goes, the clasps on their hood looks like a mix between the quaternary celtic knot and the triquetra / trinity knot. Symbolically, the latter is associated to the Triple Goddess (more on this in Leander’s section) or three elements, while the former represents the four elements or the four seasons or the four cardinal directions, and is often used as a symbol of protection.

Their fatal flaw is that they “resist change at all costs”. I'm led to believe that they became a Monster instead of being born one. I think it either happened not that long ago or they lost control over it recently, and that's what spurred them on their search for a cure. Them being described as “outcast” also makes me think that they could have been exiled from wherever they came from, perhaps because the people found out that “a monster hides within their frame”.

When questioning them about Ais, they say “I'm not going to risk my life in the hopes that any of them is different” which shows that they’re distancing themself from their situation (i.e., being/becoming a Monster).

Their hate towards Monsters could be either a projection of the hate they feel towards themself (if they were aware that there was a Monster inside of them before they lost control and hurt someone, for example) or just because one took over them and by extension they hate every Monster because of it. If the “lost control and hurt someone” thing is true I'll also add that they might be working as a Hunter as a way to try and atone. It could also be a way to expel the more violent instincts (I’m assuming they have some) into something productive.

The “they're afraid of being hurt. Or worse” on their relationship chart with Kuras feels to me like they're afraid of hurting him, also because when you ask them how they get along with him during the demo, they say “Few people are willing to help others; fewer when there's any risk involved” and I'm choosing to interpret that they think of themself as the risk. I know I'm really pushing it on this aspect but the “If you stay too close to me, you'll get hurt”+“Find someone safer to ask for help” only fuels me more. Their monstrous form also looks less defined and more liquid compared to the others, maybe because it's not as developed so it doesn't look as solid?

Vere is also said to be often provoking Mhin in order to make them lose control: he's confident in himself enough to think that he'd have the upper hand in a fight with Monster!Mhin, probably because they're a skilled hunter but they don't have that much experience over their monstrous side. Mhin dislikes Vere because he’s “the embodiment of everything [they] hate about Monsters”: while Mhin holds back from their nature and seeks a cure, Vere wants to give in to his instincts without restraints.

In the demo, they get defensive when questioned about the Senobium, but when they say “Whatever you're looking for, the cost may be higher than what you're willing to pay” I think they're speaking from experience.

It's interesting that it's implied that they slept with Leander once. Judging by the comment about the Wet Wick being the “perfect combination for making mistakes”, they're not enthusiastic about it. I’m guessing that they don't like that Leander has seen them with their guard down? Or they

Unless I missed something, it's unknown where in Eridia they're staying. I'll say it's probably in a different direction from the Wet Wick since they make a point of saying that they're only going there to protect Kuras (instead of, for example, “I live nearby anyways so I'll take the same road”).

The flowers in their pin design look similar to cornus kousa, or some other type of dogwood, symbolizing hope, resilience, renewal (I also found: rebirth, new life, strength, regret). After a long and grueling winter, Eridia greets the first dogwood blossoms with relief. These flowers are known to cling tenaciously to life even in the worst conditions, from barren wastelands to ruins perpetually shrouded in Fogfall… Really poetic meaning! I imagine Mhin as the dogwood flower, persisting even after the Tragic Backstory that made them lonely (“barren wastelands”) and their Monster Form (“shrouded in fogfall”)

Leander

Leander's silhouette [1, 2] in the animated trailer [screenshot] highlights only his eyes (they share the color of his magic -> maybe it's how he uses magic that contributes to him being “monstrous”?).

Nothing to note about his red choice except that it is unlocked by generally following his lead (taking the flower when he offers it, touching him without hesitation).

Speaking of his magic, an Alchemist MC notes that it extraordinarily powerful, enough that he doesn't need incantations or spell circles to cast it. Kuras mentioned that Leander prefers the company of those similar to him and that the Bloodhounds are mostly people who've endured the hardships of Lowtown, so I can't help but wonder if Leander was always a natural at magic, or if he did receive training but was later cast out, or maybe he left by choice?

A recurrent symbol in Leander's design is the triangle, as a detail mostly (on his coat, boots, dangling from his belt), but there's also one that looks like the alchemical symbol for earth (🜃) attached to the brooch on his chest; another symbol for earth is, you guessed it, the serpent, whose other meaning is duplicitous nature as well as renewal and rebirth. This connects to the ouroboros (present in his earring as well as in the background of the sticker and charm kickstarter rewards), symbolizing the cycle of death and rebirth and with relevance in alchemy as the “all in one”. The same theme is also present in the symbol of the triple moon (on his belt) symbolizing the stages of birth life and death and more in general three aspects united in one; the white lilies symbolizing renewal, regrowth, rebirth. The green feels fitting too, since it's often used to symbolize health and abundance.

Alongside the little triangle shape, attached to his belt there are a key (which is not the room key he gave MC), the head of which reminds me of two snakes knotted together; there's also a... I have no clue what that glowing red globe-spike is actually. It's the only other red item (along with the gem on the earring sword hilt) on Leander, but in some of the concept art it was green instead, so I think it's at least somewhat connected to his magic or the source of it. The shape of it combined with the red glow reminds me of Eridia’s towers’ architecture but that’s probably a stretch. I also feel like the symbol on the central part of the triple moon belt buckle is relevant: it immediately reminded me of a spell circle, and after doing some digging in sacred geometry, I’ve found that its 6 petal-like shapes (lilies also have 6 petals...) look similar to the hexafoil, “germ of life”, or the central part of the “seed of life”, which is connected to the divine creation of the world in 7 days/phases; a series of interconnected hexafoils make the “flower of life”, the meaning of which is creation (both in general and of the universe itself), and that everything’s interconnected to everything else... I couldn’t help but think of the “As above, so below” tagline in the Bloodhounds' poster; the sentence has so many interpretations in alchemy/esotericism but the gist of it is, “things in the higher realms of existence are just like in the lower/earthly plane” and “what happens in a large scale also happens in a small scale” and “common material things can make pure spiritual things”.

Overall, I'm thinking that all the green-glowing details on his outfit might be arcane foci, to help him cast magic without using incantations. As of right now, I’m willing to bet that Leander's connected to the Allmother (the traveler in the cart prayed to her) and/or the Abbess (the leader of the Senobium, I think): many of the aforementioned symbols also have ties to femininity and/or feminine qualities.

Other big things in his design are the eyebags and scar that goes from the cheek to the arm. I don’t have much to say on those, probably the scar is going to be connected to some important backstory event and the eyebags are a clue to suggest that there’s something troubling behind the bright and positive persona that he presents as.

If we want to take the name literally (I do), we could assume that Leander and his Bloodhounds are not simply a group of mercenaries, but mercenaries with a cause. Hounds are a breed specifically intended to track something specific (or someone specific) by scent. Given the animosity shown by them at the mere mention of the Senobium, it could have something to do with that, but perhaps it's also something more personal to Leander.

Let's get to the biggest red flag of the green-themed man: “Fatal flaw: [REDACTED]” and “Not all Monsters are inhuman”. There's also the fact that Vere doesn't trust his behaviour (I'll get to it in his section but I would generally trust Vere's words to be truthful). It’s also worth noting that in the first scene he makes an appearance in, he’s presented almost as a performer, a subtle-not-so-subtle hint that he can work his audience really skillfully. Overall, he seems too good to be true, and to quote Leander himself in the demo, “Things that seem too good to be true are often just that.” I don't think he's malevolent per se, but I also believe he's a very good liar (or at least, good at keeping his cards close to his pillowy bosom chest) and he can be a lot more ruthless than he lets on.

I already said it in Mhin's section but it's implied that the two of them slept together once, and I can't help but wonder if Leander also tried the whole "let me touch you so I can see what curses you but also you can tie me down if you want wink wink" tactic with them.

I get the feeling that he also slept with Ais? “He sure likes it when others take control”+“He's not so bad once you get to know him”. The bartender didn't joke about the room being used often huh (i’m saying this lighthearted and teasingly, nothing against it lol).

He's obviously staying at the Wet Wick with the rest of the Bloodhounds, and it happens often enough that the bartender/owner is familiar with their habits. I wonder if he also as a house of his own or not.

The flowers (in-game art, animated trailer, pin design, charm and sticker design) are white lilies, symbolizing devotion, sympathy and faith (I also found: renewal/rebirth/reregrowth and purity. Nothing says “I love you” as clearly as white lilies—ironic, since they’re some of the region’s most poisonous flowers. Some mages believe that these lilies contain a mysterious magic, but attempts to harness this power have only resulted in lethal poisonings. A not-so-veiled warning to be careful of what lies behind Leander’s charming facade... And considering that he seems to like when MC defers to him, I could imagine the (metaphorical... unless?) lethal poisoning in a possible bad end!

Kuras

Kuras' silhouette [1, 2] in the animated trailer [screenshot] highlights the several eyes (truth and secrets being very important themes in his route, he's also described as “observer”) and his tears (his guilt).

No red choice for Kuras, but there is various flavour text depending on choices. First and most notably, the Unnamed MC notes that something about him feels familiar: this could simply be a hint about him being divine in nature, or it might mean something more, I'm still uncertain. Moreover, depending on dialogue, one of his scenes towards the end of the demo plays out slightly differently, and it shows the more playful side of him (which I absolutely didn’t expect, but I enjoyed that).

As far as appearance goes, his human form and his divine form have many similarities: this post does a very good job of showing them, but additionally I'll say that his halo (silhouette, charm and sticker design) reminds me of the shape of his earrings.

There are a few lines that imply that being in Kuras' vicinity feels physically warmer. It could be just a standard “MC likes him so being near makes them feel all warm and fuzzy” but I think it's more to do with his angelic nature having a comforting effect on people. Something that could be connected to that is the theme of fire (“eldritch flames”, also visible in the charm and sticker design), which symbolically is the element that purifies souls and reveals the truth.

His clinic seems very neat, for someone who works with numerous patients for the whole day. Moreover, his clothes stay unnaturally devoid of any sign of dirt. His appearance is also very curated, so I think that part of it is him being thorough about cleaning and part of it might be a consequence of his magic. Additionally, during the 16/04/23 Q&A stream with the devs (timestamp: 49:32), they (jokingly) said that Kuras doesn’t even put his hair up while performing surgeries, which to me also means that he doesn’t need to do it because he’s supernaturally clean and hygienic.

There's no clear mention of him having magic in the first place, but I don't think he could've completely reattached MC's arm so flawlessly any other way.

I wouldn't think much of it if it were any other character but Kuras' birthday being January 1st makes me think that he picked the date on purpose... or randomly, considering it doesn’t seem to be important to him.

During the 16/04/23 Q&A stream with the devs (timestamp: 41:24), it was noted that Kuras’ name was deliberately chosen, I think implying that it probably has a meaning behind it, though I can’t say what as of now (my search only revealed that kurash is a type of wrestling in Central Asia, and that there’s a deity called Kura in a region of Syria).

I think it's a known fact in Eridia that Kuras is not simply human (“Only the most desperate or the foolish would dare lay a hand on me”), so it's interesting that he chose to not disclose that to the MC. Granted, they've interacted for less than a day now and information is the currency. I also wonder if he’s always been a doctor or if he chose to become one at a certain point... I guess it would depend: is he “repentant” for something he did before settling in Eridia, or after?

Ais also thinks that Kuras used to be more outgoing but the reason he doesn’t really open up a lot to people anymore is because he “must’ve been burned”, which is an interesting insight. I lean more towards thinking that he’s been burned after becoming a resident in Eridia.

There's nothing that strikes me as peculiar regarding his relationships with the other characters,with two exceptions. Kuras' self-inflicted exile is centuries old, and combined with the fact that he (occasionally and begrudgingly?) works with the Senobium, it might be plenty of reason for Vere to hate him. I think that Kuras might've witnessed how he came to be captured (or actively took part in it), and that event is what feeds his mistrust towards Vere. Secondly, it’s said that he “looks forward to Ais helping around his clinic”: does Ais use the Seaspring’s healing powers on some patients (“I help him in the clinic sometimes”)? I wonder if the smokey scent when the MC wakes in Kuras’ clinic was because he’d been there recently.

He lives in one of the more populated areas, probably because 1) more easy for patients to reach him and 2) he likes meeting people.

The flowers in his pin design look like magnolias, symbolizing longevity, grace, divinity (I also found: eternity, perseverance, purity). The elegant magnolia’s therapeutic properties are vital in such a dangerous world. The Senobium cultivates a small magnolia grove, though few make it past the imposing gates to enjoy the rejuvenating blossoms… Of course the medicinal aspect reflects Kuras well. And there’s the connection to him being employed in some form by the Senobium too, the gates could definitely be a metaphor for how he keeps the true extent of his powers at bay

Ais

Ais' silhouette [1, 2] in the animated trailer [screenshot] highlights his tattoo (Ocudeus' tentacles) and his eyes (the Groupmind's effect).

If MC’s been talking defiantly to him throughout the demo, the red choice connected to Ais also consists of rebelling to him, which he clearly enjoys (he’s said to dislike easy fights, so that’s probably it).

An Unnamed MC will note that Ocudeus’s presence/calling in the Seaspring feels familiar, and that his tattoo feels unnatural and it seems to move when they’re not looking... I’ll say that the tattoo isn’t a regular one, and might be the physical manifestation of the metaphorical mark that the bond with Ocudeus left on Ais. This also explains why in the silhouette of his monstrous form the tentacle tattoo is extended beyond what it normally looks like (it reaches his face, and over half of his chest).

The very prominent eye theme (charm and sticker design, Ocudeus possibly meaning “eye god” if it’s latin) and feeling of being watched (+“Got eyes in the back of my head”), plus the fact that the red-eyed woman knew what MC was seeking as well as their name, makes me believe that Ocudeus' area of influence is very extensive. As a consequence of the Groupmind, it's likely that apart from sharing thoughts (and identity?) those connected also share what they see to Ocudeus/Ais.

The notes left on the pillars are interesting. The topmost and middle one I feel are more useful to the player and serve as casual worldbuilding, but the bottommost one is the most curious imo: decoding the scrawling results in “never wish on a shooting star he's always listening”. Initially I thought that the “he” referred to Ocudeus, but it doesn't feel correct (Ocudeus always watches, it doesn't listen).

During the 16/04/23 Q&A stream with the devs (timestamp: 36:32), Ais was said to be the first character that they created, and the rest of the cast was built around him for cohesiveness. This is interesting to me, as from the demo I thought that “central” role would fit Leander more.

Speaking of Leander, both of them have a like/dislike relationship with each other (Leander because “the assassination attempts are funny, until they’re not” and Ais because he “won’t hesitate to put Leander in his place when the time comes”). Leander seems to be uncomfortable about the effects that the Seaspring has on people, while Ais talks about “a time where Leander's resolve will be tested, same for anyone in this plane or the next”... I wonder how soon that time is going to be 👀. I already noted this in Leander’s section but I think they also slept together at one point or another.

Same topic, different character: Vere. It’s cute that they’re so fond of each other [1, 2], and I’m very curious to know how they met. They probably bonded because of compatible personalities, but I also think that they like each other because they’re both dangerous, and being with someone who is also as dangerous feels... Fitting, safe, maybe?

The fact that he's “not as in control of his powers as he thought” is also interesting to me, since his nonchalance doesn't seem to be because he's lazy but because he's extremely confident. Perhaps he got too sure of himself and lost sight of the risks?

Ais is described as “renegade”, which by definition is someone who betrays a principle/alliance. I have no doubt that this is connected to the reason why he's a “gang leader without the gang members”, and probably to how he came to bond with Ocudeus. Because he's also said to dislike isolation, I lean more towards saying that he didn't willingly let his (former?) members go, my theory is either they left on their own (perhaps they were scared of Ocudeus, or they didn't approve of it) or he accidentally disposed of them (either because he wasn't in control of Ocudeus / the Soulless, or because Ocudeus felt hungry and they were conveniently nearby). Either way, it must have hurt him, since he's not at all willing to talk about it beyond “Gang took a walk”.

I’m very curious about Mhin saying “Monsters like [Ais] don't know or care about what they have”... What does (did?) Ais have? Could it be in reference to him letting his former gang/companions go away in favor of siding with Ocudeus and/or the Seaspring?

He lives at the Seaspring, though I wonder if he sleeps in a pile near those cushions, cuddling the Soulless, or if he has more personal quarters further in. There's a cave entrance visible on the other side of the bloody water, but that feels more for Ocudeus rather than Ais himself.

The flowers in his pin design are spider lilies, symbolizing mourning, goodbyes, lost memories (I also found: death, abandonment, new beginnings). Eerily beautiful, red spider lilies bear the sorrow of loss and farewells. Eridians believe these flowers shepherd lost spirits into the afterlife. The city has seen a sudden increase in these unearthly flowers, leaving many puzzled about their meaning… Very fitting with Ocudeus’ domain of losing memories and thus, beginning a new life! I’m not sure if we should be taking the increase in flowers literally, or just metaphorically as there’s many in the Groupmind

Vere

Vere's silhouette [1, 2] in the animated trailer [screenshot] highlights the eyes again (“windows to the soul” and all that), his fangs (him being the most openly aggressive) and the collar and chains (the thing that binds him to the Senobium's will).

I haven’t been able to not get his red choice [edit: “hidden ending”, not a red choice], but from my understanding of what others have said it’s based on how you talk to him and not on your actions. I’d love to say more but since I don’t know exactly influences it, I don’t have much to talk about regarding that🥹

“Not quite human, not quite monster. Seems we’re both--” I wonder if he was about to finish the sentence with ‘cursed’?

He has unique dialogue for each of MC’s backstories: to an Alchemist he says “The misery born of your mistreatment haunts you. I understand what it’s like to be used and thrown away. I’ll give your life new meaning”; to an Unnamed “You poor thing, misled by those you trusted most. You caused so much suffering unknowingly. I know that pain. I can help you forget it all”; to a Hound “The betrayal, the loss of hope, the sheer desperation that drives you still to search and search to no end. I could give you something new to live for”. Apart from showing that he knows stuff he’s not supposed to, I’m more interested about what he says to Alchemist and Hound: he knows the pain of causing suffering unknowingly, and he knows what it’s like to be used and then discarded. His powers seems to be seeing through people, I’d say almost mind-reading (“You can’t hide anything from me.”), but I think soul reading is a more fitting definition. I feel that all of the comments related to MC's backstory have more to do with what they experienced/felt than just objective facts, plus the way he says “All that suffering has made your soul so irresistibile...”, it makes me think that he's reading MC’S present and past emotions through their soul.

The most apparent part of his design is that he’s half showing, half hiding. His outfit makes the harness very visible, yet he hid the leash from the MC for as long as possible, and he didn't let them close enough to touch it. His pants are fully cover one side and show skin on the other. The sheer fabrics look very cool on their own but I like to think they're also part of the "half show, half hide" thing he has going on. An Alchemist MC will note that the collar seems to be enchanted, while other backstories will simply say that the lock seems easy enough to open.

In the charms and stickers design, there's his chain in the background, and it's broken. Metaphorically and literally, “breaking free from the chains” symbolizes putting an end to what holds someone captive, but also finding freedom to be oneself. Perhaps I'm reading too much into it, but I think a freed Vere would also feel free to not hide so much of himself. On that note, I'm extremely curious about what he draws on his sketchbook. Also in the charm and stickers design, as well as in the Nintendo Switch port art, is the key that he stole from the MC. It's curious that they included it instead of a more personal object like his sketchbook (present in the Switch port art but not in the stickers), but it might just be a fun nod to the demo or maybe he'll develop a habit of stealing the key again in the full game, so I don't think I should read too much into that.

Neither Vere or Kuras of them gives too many juicy details about their mutual hate towards each other during the demo, but from the additional info [1, 2] published on Tumblr, I think it might have to do with the fact that both of them have been confined in Eridia for centuries, and perhaps Kuras even contributed to the capture of Vere, too.

He’s defined as a “charlatan”, which by definition means “someone who decieves through false claims”. It fits with him saying “If I were you, I wouldn’t trust a word I say” and “Information is a luxury [...] If you valued my words you'd have taken them seriously”. This feels like a recurring theme for Vere: Ais also says, “Vere is one of the most honest people you'll meet. Just don't listen to a single thing he says”. Despite the very obvious predatory/mischievous nature of Vere, I think that he is very honest about the things he says: it’s about reading between the lines.

His very evident distaste towards Leander might be connected to this, seeing that Leander seems to be hiding a lot.

Vere clearly likes Ais, but as soon as MC asks more, he warns them about how dangerous he and the Seaspring are. I think both are true: Ais being “a good person” doesn’t exclude the fact that he is dangerous.

It could be a stretch, but I wonder if Vere lives/stays in the building that he was chained to?

The flowers in his pin design look like some type of lilies, perhaps wood lily are a type of amaryllis that symbolizes passion, allure, pride ( when researching the wood lilies, I also found: danger, determination). Local legends conflict on the origins of the amaryllis. Whether they sprang from the spilt blood of a scorned lover or were born of an ancient Senobian ritual gone awry, the truth behind these flowers is knowledge long forgotten… or held by a privileged few. Like Kuras, his flower mirrors the connection to the Senobium though it remains vague about how exactly they became involved... In the greek myth, Amaryllis consulted an oracle to win the love of the shepherd Alteo: she walked to his house every day, piercing her heart with a golden arrow, and on the 30th day flowers bloomed from her blood. Alteo became enamoured with the maiden and the flowers that bore her name... I wonder how Touchstarved’s version of the myth is different than ours, and which character Vere is more akin to?

Nothing on Sen or Elyon for now since there's too little info on both, but I'm looking forward to putting them under a microscope too 👀

(bangs pots and pans) please share your theories/thoughts if you read this far? 👉👈

#if anyone wants screenshots re: the in-game dialogue that i refer to lmk and i'll provide #full disclosure i wouldn't have thought of kuras birthday if it weren't for sysba in attollo... oh eldritch beings exiled on earth #i wanted to put the link to the q&a twitch stream but unfortunately there's no vod so you'll have to take my word :( sorry #i also hope that the links to the kickstarter images work since at one point before posting this they all broke... lmk in case and i'll edit #anyways can you tell i'm positively obsessed and i'm this close to counting the days until 2025?#i had fun playing and writing this heehe #touchstarved #touchstarved vn #touchstarved game #ais #ais touchstarved #kuras #kuras touchstarved #leander #leander touchstarved #mhin #mhin touchstarved #vere #vere touchstarved #touchstarved analysis #touchstarved theory #touchstarved spoilers #visual novels #vns #long post #ps: i'm not an expert about any of these but i'm most unsure about the flowers... i tried #edit: corrected an imprecision and added links/timestamps to the q&a vod!#my posts

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axolotluv · 8 months

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What's with art communities and forgetting people can just do things for fun and not be professional about it??

#ax speaks #advice is ALWAYS catered to “how to survive as a professional artist”#like yeah cool this is all great but I just wanted to know how to make my art cool not the rules I need to follow to get hired #good anatomy does not equal good art #good dialogue does not equal good art #encourage creativity divergence and experimentation #shade with black. make big thick messy lines. make your lighting completely nonsensical #make weird uncomfortable dialogue. narrate casually. space out your words strangely for effect. write in the second person #of course all of it can be executed badly that's why professionals tell you to stay away from it #but if you execute it in your own way and make it work you can really push the bounds of being an artist #the question should always be “goes it feel good” rather than “is it correct” when creating something #the next time someone asks you for drawing advice don't tell them to make the lines less shaky or to use more muted colors #tell them exactly what you would do to make their art look sick as hell #or if someone asks for writing advice don't tell them the structure of a story or what words to use #tell them exactly what your favorite parts are to focus on like dialogue or how you came up with the part you had the most fun writing

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spdrwdw · 6 months

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Art by marmar0u on instagram

Pairing: GhostFace!Miguel x f!reader

warnings: 18+, Smut, Roleplay, oral (m/f receiving) , unprotected intercourse, hair-pulling, choking, no use of y/n, slight hair pulling

Summary: It's Halloween and you in for a trick and treat of your life.

A/N: Thank you to the anon who requested GhostFace! Miguel! Sorry if this on kinda sucks. I'm not good with writing scary, suspenseful stuff lol. I did use some of the dialogue from the first movie and tweaked it a bit. If you want to be tagged in my future fics, just let me know! Or, you can also turn on notifications for my page and get notified whenever I post. I hope everyone enjoys and have a safe and fun Halloween!

Word Count: 2.8k ( I promise I'll make my fics longer one day)

☆*:.｡. o .｡.:*☆ ☆*:.｡. o .｡.:*☆ ☆*:.｡. o .｡.:*☆ ☆*:.｡. o .｡.

It was Halloween night, and you were home alone. The tv was on, playing some random scary movie. You had music also playing in the background.

Trick-or-treaters would be constantly ringing the doorbell. At first, you thought about simply leaving the bowl of candy by the doorstep, but you loved seeing all the costumes the kids and teenagers were wearing.

You were wearing a costume, yourself. A simple angel. Nothing too flashy since you were simply handing out candy. Just a halo and wings in a white t-shirt and white shorts. You wore your more “suggestive” costume at last weekend’s Halloween party a friend threw.

While making your way to the kitchen to make yourself some popcorn, you heard your cell phone ring. It was a number you’ve never seen before, but it had your area code, so you decided to pick it up.

“Hello?”

“Hello?” A voice on the other end responded.

“Yes?” You replied back.

“Who is this?”

“Who are you trying to reach?” You asked, slightly confused.

“What number is this?”

“What number are you trying to reach?” Honestly. Dude dialed the number, right?

“I don’t know.” Ugh.

“Well, I think you have the wrong number. It happens. Take it easy,” and with that, you ended the call and began to head back to the microwave to check on the popcorn before your phone rang again.

Reaching back over for it, you checked the caller ID. It was the same number. Should you pick it up? At first, you thought about letting it ring but, eh, whatever. You answered it.

“Hello?”

“I’m sorry. I guess I dialed the wrong number,” the same guy on the other end responded.

“So why did you dial it again?” You asked.

“To apologize,” he replied.

“Well, you’re forgiven. Bye, now.”

“Wait! wait. Don’t hang up. I want to talk to you for a sec.”

“Why?” Okay, this was getting a little weird. You really should just hang up.

“Just want to know a little more about you. How about telling me your name?” He asked. “I’ll tell you my name if you tell me yours.”

“Yeah, I don’t think so,” you rolled your eyes, shaking your head.

“Well, do you have a boyfriend?” He changed the subject.

“Why? Do you want to ask me out on a date?”

“Maybe? Do you have a boyfriend?”

“No,” as if you were going to give this guy a truthful response. Plus, you did have a boyfriend, so you wouldn’t have accepted either way.

“You never told me your name.” There he goes again, asking for your name.

You were now walking around your house, organizing some things as you entertained this weirdo.

“Why do you want to know my name?” No really. Why?

“Because I want to know who I’m looking at.”

What?

You suddenly stopped, feeling your heart drop.

“What did you say?” Your voice now grew quiet.

“I want to know who I’m talking to.”

“That’s not what you said,” you pointed out as you began making your way around the house, turning more lights on, as well as the lights from your back porch. You really should hang up and call the police if this guy was stalking you from somewhere.

“Then what did you think I said?” He asked. You could feel your heart pounding in your chest.

“What do you want?” You knew if you hung up now, he would just call back. So, you made another round around the house to make sure everything was closed and locked.

“I just want to know your name.”

“You don’t need to know my name. Now what do you want from me?” You questioned.

“I just wanted to talk. Maybe go out together on a date.”

Now you were peaking through the curtains, making sure no one was actually outside. Which was futile since there were still a lot of people out trick-or-treating. Maybe he was just messing around. But, you wanted to be sure.

“Can you see me?” He suddenly asked.

How did he know you were looking for him? “Listen, I am two seconds away from calling the police.” Your voice was now shaky, as well as your body.

“They’d never make it in time. It’s Halloween. Probably think you’re prank calling them or something.”

“What do you want?” You asked, your voice cracking and tears welling over your eyes.

The line was quiet for a second, then you heard him chuckle.

“To see what your insides feel like.”

The line disconnected, and there was a sudden flicker of the lights. He was here. He had to be.

You were checking every single closet and door, your heart beating fast, panicking. Where was he? He had to be somewhere in your house.

Your cell phone rang again. You didn’t bother to check the number. You knew it was him.

“What do you want?” You asked, your voice shaking as you struggled to hold the phone in your hand.

No response.

“This isn’t funny! I’m going to call the police!” You threatened as you pressed your back against the wall, trying to keep your eyes everywhere.

You heard the man chuckling again at the other end, causing goosebumps to raise the thin hairs on your arms.

“Aww! Don’t be like that, baby. I’m just having some fun.” You could practically hear him smirking.

“Well, I’m not!” You spat before the lights began to flicker again.

“Stop it!”

“Alright, alright. You’re being such a party-pooper. Here, I’ll tell you what. I’ll stop messing with you, if you let me fuck you.”

“Excuse me?!” You gasped, eyes widened.

“Come on. It’ll be fun. I’ll even keep my mask on,” he cooed.

“No way!”

“Why not? It’s Halloween. I’m a trick-or-treater. I already did my tricks, now I’m ready for my treat.”

“I-I have a boyfriend!” You then blurted out.

“You just told me you didn’t.”

“I know that.”

“So that ‘no’’ was a yes? I don’t like that you lied to me like that. Hmm..well, he doesn’t have to know, baby. It’ll be our little secret.”

“No,” you replied.

“Alright. Fine. We can do this the hard way,” he responded just before the lights went completely dark. The line cut off on the other end, and you were left with silence.

You covered your mouth and tried to calm down. You had to find something to defend yourself with. Maybe a baseball bat or something. Or you could go back to the kitchen and grab a pan or knife.

Without removing yourself from the wall, you began to make your way to the kitchen.

In the dark, you quickly made your way to the drawers and found a knife before proceeding to turn on the flashlight on your phone just as you heard something coming from upstairs.

“Shit shit shit!” You breathed, gripping onto the knife with one hand and your phone with the other before you slowly began to make your way up the stairs , looking all around you.

You jumped when you heard a door slam behind you, and you slowly turned around to see a dark figure at the end of the hall.

“Who are you?!” You called out, taking a couple steps back, still gripping the knife tightly. Your legs began to tremble a bit.

The figure then turned around. A white ghost-like mask covered their face. You could hear a low chuckle coming from them as they began to take a step closer, holding their own, bloody knife in his hand.

“Get away from me! I’m serious!” You threatened, but he continued to make his way closer to you, so, you dashed into your bedroom, not noticing something on the floor that caused you to trip and fall onto your bed, the knife slipped out of your hand, along with your phone, both landing on the floor with a thump.

Once you managed to push your body up, you glanced over your shoulder and saw the figure standing right behind you, causing you to scream. You tried to scramble back, but he grabbed one of your legs, lifting the knife towards you to strike.

You quickly reached for a pillow and started hitting him with it. It worked for a second, and he stumbled back. But, it gave you enough time to get out of bed.

However, your efforts were not sufficient,and he grabbed you, tossing you back onto the bed with a thump before he crawled over you, pinning your hands behind your head and straddling your waist.

A low chuckle could be heard coming from him before he leaned over and whispered against your ear, “You’re so cute when you’re scared.”

Your heart pounded against your chest, struggling to break free as tears pricked over your eyes.

“Please, let me go..” you whimpered.

“Not until I get my treat, sweetheart,” he reminded her as he sat up and began to pull down his pants underneath the black cloak.

“Aye, mierda, this thing..”he huffed under his breath as he hiked the cloak up above his waist.

Wait a second. That voice..it sounded familiar. Too familiar. And there was only one person you knew who would curse like that.

“M-Miguel?”

“Yeah?” He paused, looking down at you through his mask, his persona now forgotten.

“Are you fucking kidding me?! It was you doing this the whole time?!” You shrieked as you started smacking him, hitting him with all your might.

“You asshole!”

Miguel simply laughed as he grabbed hold of your hands.

“Come on, nena! I was just messing with you!” He continued to laugh. “You should’ve seen the look on your face. It was adorable.”

“G-get off of me!” You were pissed at the stunt your boyfriend pulled.

“But I want my treat,” you just knew that he was pouting under his mask.

“I’m not giving you anything you big jerk! Now get off and turn my lights back on!” You demanded, shoving him off of you.

“Fine,” he muttered before fixing himself and got off the bed and headed out of your room.

You laid in your bed for a moment, trying to relax. You never thought Miguel would do such a thing. He really had you scared shitless.

Shaking your head and gathering your thoughts, you got up from bed, grabbing the knife you dropped on the floor and began to make your way downstairs just as the lights came back on.

Miguel was already in the kitchen, mask removed and munching on the popcorn you had made.

You placed the knife back where it belonged before turning to face Miguel, crossing your arms over your chest.

Miguel looked over at you after popping some more popcorn into his mouth, giving you a cheeky grin.

“Heeey..” he reached over to you, pulling you over by the arm. “Don’t be mad. Please. Forgive me?”

He gave you big puppy dog eyes. And for someone as big as him, it was actually adorable. But you were still mad at him. He actually had you fearing for your life.

“No,” you respond curtly, glaring up at him. Why did he think you would just forgive him so easily?

“How did you even get in here?” You asked as he pulled you into a tight hug.

“You showed me where you keep your spare key, remember?”

“Oh, yeah..”

“Soo..”he smirked then. “Can I get my treat now?”

“You’re insufferable. Fine! Fine,” you finally agreed with a nod. “But, I swear if you do something like that again, I’m breaking up with you."

Miguel gave you a toothy grin before pulling his mask back down before pulling out his knife from under his cloak. With closer inspection, you realize it was just a fake prop knife with red paint over it.

“Wait, how did you change your voice?” You suddenly asked.

Miguel pulled out a little box-like device and held it to his face before speaking to it, his voice sounding completely different.

“Oh.”

“Now, let’s have some fun, shall we?” Miguel stated before he started chasing you around the kitchen, with you now playing along.

After you had given the last of the candy out to trick-or-treaters and finished up the popcorn, you and Miguel were upstairs in your room, with you on your knees, sucking him off.

He was still clad in his costume, having his cloak bunched up around his waist.

“Oh, fuck, that’s it. Just like that,” he groaned, tilting his head back as you bobbed your head and pumped him in your hand. You couldn’t help but to slip your hand into your panties and finger yourself, letting out moans around his cock.

He began to thrust into your mouth, holding your head still with his hand. You continued to finger yourself.

“Such a naughty little angel you are, nena. Taking my cock in so well,” he praised before letting out another groan, feeling himself close to his orgasm. However, he pulled himself out of your mouth, stunting his release. He wanted to be inside you for that. He pulled up on onto your feet before he knelt down before you, removing his mask before shooting you a playful wink and removed your white shorts and panties before half of his face disappeared between your legs.

You let out a moan when you felt it. His tongue, running along your folds, picking up your wetness with greed. He lifted you up by the thighs, placing a hand on your back before lifting you up on the floor and blindly made his way to the closet wall, pinning you there.

“Oh, Miguel!” You whined, tilting your head back against the wall, squeezing his head between your thighs as he slurped and nipped at your aching pussy.

Muffled moans could be heard coming from his mouth, sending vibrations through your body. You started bucking your hips against her mouth, needing more of his tongue.

You let out another whine, needing more. You needed more of him. You needed him inside you.

“Migueeeel!” You pouted as you continued to grind your hips against him. All he needed was his mouth to send you over the edge, and he knew how to use it well. He had you seeing stars and reaching for the moon with how his tongue danced along your bundle of nerves and slipped into your soaking pussy.

However, he pulled away before you were able to reach your peak.

“No!” You cried out, causing him to chuckle. He gently removed you from his shoulders and carried you to your bed, dropping you.

“Don’t fret, nena. We got all night. It’s still Halloween. And I am going to enjoy my treat for as long as I can. I did tell you and wanted to feel your insides, after all,” he said as he slipped his mask back down and took off everything else, leaving himself naked.

He proceeded to remove most of your clothes, leaving just your halo and wings on before flipping you over so you were on your stomach.

“On your hands and knees, angelita,” he ordered, giving you ass a playful smack, causing you to let out a yelp. You did as he said and positioned yourself before him, ass in the air and face down onto the mattress.

You could hear him stroking himself in his hand, and the sound made your mouth water.

“I know you want me in that tight little pussy, nena. Don’t worry, I got you,” Miguel smirked before plunging himself into your warm, wet cunt, causing you to arch your back and cry out his name.

Miguel didn’t wait to set at a brutal pace, pivoting himself against you, balls slapping against your clit. You let out a lewd moan, your eyes rolling back just as Miguel grabbed a fistful of your hair and leaned over, his phone in hand. He took a quick photo of the two of you.

“You better not show that to anyone,” you whimpered.

“Of course not. This is all for me. No one gets to see you like this, angelita,” Miguel cooed, and you felt him resting his masked face against your hair, as if trying to give you a kiss.

“Now, you gonna cum for me?”

You could feel him hitting that sweet spot that made you see stars, and you cried out a ‘yes’ in response, nodding your head.

“Yes! Yes yes! I will! Please..just like that!”

“That’s my girl,” he praised, giving your ass a hard smack that had you cumming instantly.

You gripped onto the bed sheets as Miguel continued to thrust into you past your orgasm. He loved filling you up and mixing your juices with his. And that’s just what he did. A couple more thrusts and he came inside you.

“Oh, fuck..that felt good,” Miguel sighed as he slowly pulled out of you, marveling at how your cunt dripped with his seed.

Taking off his mask completely, he pulled you into his arms and kissed you passionately.

“I’m still mad at you,” you reminded him, poking him hard on the chest.

He simply laughed and pecked your lips a couple of times. “Sorry, nena. I’ll make it up to you, I promise,” he cooed, nuzzling his face against your neck.

“Happy Halloween.”

☆*:.｡. o .｡.:*☆ ☆*:.｡. o .｡.:*☆ ☆*:.｡. o .｡.:*☆ ☆*:.｡. o .｡.

@xaaaaaaax, @randomwriteralan, @migueloharastruelove, @camzzn

#miguel o'hara #atsv miguel #miguel x reader #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel ohara #miguel ohara fanfiction #miguel o'hara smut #miguel o’hara smut #miguel ohara x reader #miguel o'hara x y/n #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel spiderverse #miguel smut #spiderman 2099

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vienssunshine · 6 months

Note

The dialogues you write for maki are so goddamn heavenly, please, what is it like when her girl squirts on her glasses (bonus if in the next morning, everyone in the dormitory heard them)? 😣🙏

Just Can't Focus

pairing: Maki Zenin x fem!reader nsfw: semi-public sex, cunnilingus, squirting word count: 1.8k author’s note: thank you so much for the request! you're so sweet!! i had a lot of fun adapting your request into a fic, hope you enjoy! also, maki looked so good in the latest episode. i need her... description: something about watching you train gets maki so riled up.

The day has been long.

Nothing slows down time quite like having to hold a plank, and Gojo, who’s in charge of training you and your peers today, has been making the hours crawl by with countless strength training exercises. Your core is aching and your legs feel like they’re about to give out, which is why it feels a blessing when your teacher gets a phone call that pulls him away into a meeting with the higher-ups.

“Pair up and find a place around campus to practice sparring while I’m gone,” Gojo instructs, “We’ll meet back up in 30. Don’t forget to have fun!” He waves as he heads towards the school, leaving you and the other exhausted students alone in the field.

Nobara turns her head to you, about to speak, when an arm interlocks with yours. You look to your side to see that Maki has claimed you as her partner.

“Maki!” Nobara huffs, “I wanted to spar with her.”

Maki shrugs. “Be quicker then.”

Nobara’s face darkens with a scowl and you hurry to resolve the conflict. “I’ll spar with you next time,” you tell Nobara, “Promise.”

“You better.” She crosses her arms and walks towards the other sorcerers, annoyed she’ll have to partner up with either idiot #1 or idiot #2 (Yuuji or Megumi).

“Let’s go find a spot,” Maki says, though she begins pulling you off towards a forest nearby, seemingly already having a place in mind.

Soon you’re past the tree line, and before you can get a word out about the sparring drill, your back is pressed up against a tree and Maki’s lips are on yours.

It catches you by surprise—Maki tends to be unpredictable, a reason why it’s hard for you to beat her in a match—but it’s instinctive how you fall into the rhythm of her lips, melting into her touch as you kiss her back. Her leg nestles between yours and her strong hands land on your sides, brushing along the curve of your waist as she leans into you.

“Need you…now,” she mumbles in between kisses, the rasp of her voice confessing desperation. Even though you and Maki have been a thing for a while now, she knows how to mask her true feelings, so until she had you pinned against a tree, you didn’t have a clue that such a need was building up in her all afternoon.

“Yeah?” you say, resting your arms atop her built shoulders, pulling her closer. “Can’t wait until after training?”

Maki tugs off her uniform jacket, leaving her in the white long sleeve she wears under her uniform, and lays it on the grass by your feet. “No, so come sit down.”

Her mouth is inseparable from yours as she helps lower your body down onto her jacket, and the moment you’re sitting down, she’s kneeled between your thighs, reaching up past your skirt to dip her fingers into the waistband of your black tights.

“Lift up your hips for me, pretty,” she murmurs against your lips. You listen, and she pulls your tights off, and then your underwear. It’s a little strange, how you’re half-naked in one of the school’s forests, but you have a hard time caring when Maki hooks her arms underneath your thighs and brings her mouth to your cunt.

“Already so wet for me,” she laughs, pressing a kiss to your pelvis, “Have you been thinking about me too?”

“Maybe,” you say, though the evidence speaks for itself. How could you not? For the entirety of the strength training session, all you could notice was Maki. With the way her defined muscles flexed as she worked through Gojo’s ceaseless exercises, it was impossible not to. You had to look over and take in how the effort contorted her elegant features, had to hear how it sharpened her breath. And every single time you glanced over to her, without fail, she was already looking at you.

“You were just as distracted,” you say, trying to keep still despite the sensation of her hot breath fanning against your cunt. “You really should be paying attention during training.”

She smirks. “I think it’ll be easier to focus after I have you cum on my tongue.”

Her warm mouth connects with your folds, forcing a choked gasp from your throat. You rock your hips back and away, caught off guard at how quickly sharp pleasure cuts through your insides, but Maki’s strong arms keep you locked in place. Her eyes flutter shut at the contact and she deeply inhales, finally gratified after wanting to be with you like this all afternoon.

Your head lolls to the side when she begins to move, licking long stripes up from your hole to your clit with a flat tongue. Pulling up the fabric of your skirt gives you an unobstructed view and you watch, eyes lidded, as she pushes her mouth further into your cunt, just unable to get enough. Then she pushes her palms gently against your thighs, opening yourself up further to her. You allow it, legs falling open, and lean back against the tree behind you.

“There we go,” she says, “Relax for me, okay?”

You realize why when a finger circles the outside of your hole. Maki’s tongue continues to bathe your clit with wet swipes of her tongue, only increasing the amount of slick coating your opening. She uses this lubrication to shallowly slip the tip of her finger in and out of you, stimulating the tight ring of muscle circling your entrance. Then, she lengthens her movements, pushing in deeper with every thrust of her fingers. Your breath comes out shaky. “Fuck…Maki…”

She begins to move her finger inside of you, pushing it up against your walls in a way that has heat rushing to your lower stomach. Your eyes flutter shut and each pump of her finger pushes a soft moan from your lips.

“If you wanted to make it up to me for being such a distraction all afternoon, those pretty noises of yours are doing the job,” Maki says.

She adds another finger, which only makes you call out her name once more in that breathy voice of yours she adores. The pressure is immense, especially with her fingers being so strong and precise.

“It’s…so much-” you say, pressing your eyebrows together. You don’t think you’ve had Maki eat you out and finger you at the same time before; the sensation is overwhelming. Every harsh thrust of her fingers is complemented by a sweet lick on your clit, a two-front war that makes you feel like you’re losing your mind. Any attempt at escaping the pleasure is nonexistent with Maki’s hold on you, and soon your stomach is twisting, like a violent undercurrent is ripping through your lower half. It’s new, and more intense than you’ve experienced before.

“Maki I…I feel weird…” you say, squirming.

“You’re doing great, pretty girl,” Maki responds before diving her tongue into your folds once more.

“I’m serious…Maki…I don’t know…” Your fingers tighten in the grass around you.

“Does it feel good?” Maki asks.

“Feels…s’good,” you respond.

“Then relax, enjoy it.”

You want to listen to her, you really do, but there’s a hesitant voice in your head, one telling you that if you give in to the pleasure, you’ll be giving in completely. You’re just so full; there’s so much pent-up energy in your body that’s begging to be released. But the more she touches you, the more encouragement and praise leaving her mouth, the less power you have over the force building up inside your core.

“I feel like I’m gonna…”

She curls her fingers inside you, pressing against your sweet spot with a force that has your body shaking and seconds away from release.

“Fuck—Maki—m’gonna—“

You’re unprepared when your orgasm hits you, and because it hits you hard, you’re helpless when fluid rushes out of you at the intense sensation. You throw your head back, pleasure rolling through your lower half and being expelled from your body. Unaffected, Maki continues to finger fuck you, only prolonging the ruthless orgasm she’s sending through your body.

“Attagirl,” Maki says, grinning.

You’re swearing, or moaning, maybe a mixture of both, as the climax pummels your poor body, and you hold onto Maki’s arms for dear life, fingers digging into the fabric of her white long sleeve.

When her movements slow, coaxing you back into reality, the haze washes off and you realize that you’ve squirted for the first time–all over Maki’s face.

You sit up. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to—fuck, your glasses.”

She cuts you off. “It’s hot, pretty. Don’t apologize for something you don’t have to, mkay?” She takes her glasses from her face and rubs the liquid coating them off on her jacket beneath you.

“I’ve just…that’s never happened before,” you say, still reeling from the sensation.

“Makin’ me feel special,” she says, pressing a kiss to your forehead. Then, she stands, offering you her hand. “Are you okay to walk? Everyone should be regrouping by now. I think if we stay any longer, I’ll want to try to make that happen again.”

“Uh…yeah, let’s go,” you say, grabbing onto it and letting her help you up. You’re still grappling with what just happened; you didn’t even know that could happen.

Dazed, you find your underwear on the sleeve of Maki’s jacket, uncrumple it, and pull it back up on you.

“Thanks for that,” Maki says, threading her hand into yours for the rest of the walk out of the forest.

You and Maki are the last to join the group. Aside from Gojo, who’s meeting must’ve run long. Guess training ends early today.

As you walk up to the rest of the sorcerers, Yuuji tilts his head and then points at Maki, “Did you lose your jacket?”

Your eyes widen as you realize that Maki isn’t wearing it, she’s still in her button-up. Though, it’s not like she could put it back on, your fluids had soaked the material. “I took it off when we were sparring. Guess I forgot it,” she responds.

“Is that why you took off your tights too?” Panda asks, pointing to your bare legs. Heat rushes to your face.

Maki scowls. “Last chance to mind your own or I’ll be your sparring partner next time.”

“Alright! Okay!” The rest of them hurry off but fail to do a good job pretending they aren’t whispering about the two of you.

“I’ll go grab our clothes and put them in the wash, so you go take a break okay?” She grins. “I hope I didn’t work you too hard.”

“How considerate,” you tease, “But I would prefer it if you came back to my room after doing the laundry. Maybe then you’ll be able to tire me out.”

“Alright, I’ll see you soon.”

#maki zenin x reader #zenin maki #maki x you #maki x reader #maki zenin #maki zenin smut #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk maki

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secretjeon · 1 year

Note

Could you write something for SebastianxF!reader? Maybe later in their 7th year with Sebastian being jealous of all the boys interested in you. Him figuring out his feelings for you and maybe some kissing at the end 😳

ONLY YOU; SEBASTIAN SALLOW

pairing: sebastian sallow x f!reader

warnings: teeny tiny bit of angst if you squint, some arguing, jealousy, very quick slight suggestiveness, reader is seriously so desired by everyone its not even funny, fluff!!! not proofread!

word count: 1k+

a/n: first time writing for sebastian but it was so much fun im so excited!! for anyone who might want to request I write fluff, angst and smut so there's not really any limits. i don’t know how to write dialogue as a british person in the 1800s, so take it easy on me, but i hope u like it!! 🤍

comments/reblogs/likes are appreciateddd

He didn't know why he was so upset at the sight before him. You were currently sitting in your Defence Against the Dark Arts class, waiting for the professor to begin.

It wasn't just you at your table. There were also two boys, whose names you can't remember. They were both bragging about different things to you, one about Quidditch, the other about his amazing skills in Herbology.

It was a painful sight to watch, seeing as Sebastian was sat at the table just behind you. From where he was, he could very obviously tell they were trying to flirt with you. It bothered him deeply, why would these guys ever think they had a chance with you?

Smart, beautiful, perfect you. Things he all believed. Of course, he didn't think anything of it. Why wouldn't he acknowledge how beautiful you were? That was just simple human nature. But that didn't stop him from wondering why he was so bothered by the guys flirting with you.

He hated the thought of them doing anything with you. Talking with you, kissing you, touching you. The thought made his blood boil.

This wasn't the first time this had happened. Sebastian can recall the many times your chats were interrupted by another guy trying to take you on a date. Of course, you said no each time, but it wasn't any less annoying to him. He'd learned to refrain from rolling his eyes at this point, but still silently cursed the lads in his head.

"Alright, everyone! Take a seat." Professor Hecat spoke, allowing the two boys at your table to sit at their respective seats.

"Today, we are going to be doing something a little different. I want you to each partner up with someone, and then I will be explaining the rest." You immediately got up, about to go towards Sebastian when another boy got in your way, Liam, if you can remember correctly.

"Hey, Y/N, wanna partner up?" Sebastian couldn't stop himself from rolling his eyes this time. You paused for a moment, trying to find a way to politely reject the boy.

"Erm, sorry... Liam, right? I'm afraid I've already partnered up with Sebastian." The brunette boy lit up at your words, suddenly feeling confident and looking at Liam with a smug face.

The other boy nodded with a tight lip smile, before leaving, defeated. You sat down next to Sebastian, who now had a bright smile on his face. "What are you all smiley about?" You teased.

"Nothing, let's listen for Professor Hecat's instructions, yeah?" Both you and him brushed it off, spending the rest of the class chatting up a storm and doing the assignment.

___

A few days have passed, and it just so happened to be Valentine's Day. You and Sebastian had gone to The Three Broomsticks to drink a butter beer together, as your own 'Galentine's Day', though you weren't sure if you could call it that because Sebastian wasn't a girl, but you were both single so the concept was the same.

You were sipping on your drink, enjoying each other's company when you see a guy who you recognize from your Charms class, someone whose tried to ask you out before, approach you.

"Y/N? It's Patrick, from Charms? I was wondering if maybe you'd wanna get a drink with me." This visibly angered Sebastian, his grip on his glass tightening, knuckles turning white. Before you could speak, Sebastian decided to tell Patrick a few words of his own.

"Don't you see that she's busy with me right now? And I don't know if it's clicked in that noggin of yours, but have you ever considered that maybe she's just not into you?" His voice was slightly raising at this point, but you couldn't help but find it attractive.

Patrick's eyes widened a little before backing up, muttering an apology and walking away. You turned to face Sebastian. "Why did you do that? You didn't even let me get a word in."

"Oh, please, Y/N, didn't you see how he was looking at you? It's like you were a chocolate frog and he was ready to eat you! Trust me, he's not the right guy for you." You quirked an eyebrow at his statement.

"Then who is?" You watched as he hesitated for a moment, before taking a sigh as if to prepare himself, and looked you in the eyes.

"I am," You stared at him in shock, not knowing what to say at the sudden confession.

"Y/N, I'm not sure why I didn't come to this realization sooner, but I've fallen for you. Deeply. I mean, we've gone through everything together, and you're just so perfect. You're truly one of the most amazing people I've ever known, and I've never felt this way about anyone be-"

You cut him off by leaning forward and capturing his lips with your own, catching him off guard. He's thrown off at first, but quickly matches your rhythm with his own, your lips fitting together like puzzle pieces, sparks flying everywhere in the room.

The kiss is everything and more. With his mouth still on yours, he grabs your chair, pulling you in closer, before moving his hands to you, one on your face, holding your cheek, the other holding your hand.

You both break apart, breathless with stupid smiles on your faces. "I've been waiting forever for you to say that." You grab his hand with both of yours.

If it was possible, his smile got even wider at your words. "You have?" You nodded, figuring it was time to confess.

"You've given me absolute butterflies since the moment I met you, Sebastian. I had all but hoped that you felt the same way. Why do you think I've always rejected the guys that flirted with me?

It's because it's you. It's only been you." You lean in for another kiss before Sebastian suggests a real date, perfectly fitting the day. The two of you leave The Three Broomsticks, feeling happier than ever before.

#Sebastian sallow #Sebastian sallow x reader #Hogwarts legacy #hogwarts #harry potter #Sebastian sallow fanfiction #Sebastian sallow fluff #Harry Potter hogwarts legacy #sebastian sallow fanfic

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siriuslovebot · 9 months

Text

˖ ࣪⭑˖ ࣪𝒔𝒎𝒐𝒌𝒆 𝒔𝒉𝒐𝒘 ➸ 𝒋𝒂𝒎𝒆𝒔 𝒑𝒐𝒕𝒕𝒆𝒓˖ ࣪⭑ ˖ ࣪

𓏲 ࣪₊♡𓂃 𝑨𝑵𝑶𝑵𝒀𝑴𝑶𝑼𝑺 𝑨𝑺𝑲𝑬𝑫: hiya i was wondering if you could do a rough smut with james potter where reader gets turned on by him blowing cig smoke into her mouth at a party or something, and he’s all like cocky about it??? thank you for considering this.

𝑾𝑨𝑹𝑵𝑰𝑵𝑮𝑺: smut (18+, minors dni!), smoking, mentions of alcohol, oral (f!receiving), slight oral fixation, unprotected sex, rough sex, semi-public sex, cocky!james, some condescending dialogue, teasing, dirty talk.

𝑺𝑼𝑴𝑴𝑨𝑹𝒀: the reader is infatuated with her boyfriend, james potter. she can’t help but get distracted when admiring him at a party.

𝑨/𝑵: hi, anon! thank you for your request! i hope i’ve done it justice here. i don’t have a ton of experience writing rough smut, but i tried my best here. james is such a big softie to me but it was fun writing him a little differently. this is unedited so apologies for any mistakes, and i hope you enjoy!

𝑾𝑶𝑹𝑫 𝑪𝑶𝑼𝑵𝑻: 3.4k 𓂃♡₊⭑

·͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺

james potter is going to be the death of you.

he’s been bad enough these last few weeks since you’ve become “official,” strutting around bragging about how he’s somehow snagged the fittest girl around. the disgusted looks on remus and sirius’s faces are enough to send a flush blooming across your features, not to mention the endless teasing from sirius as he does his dramatic impression of james fawning over you. worse, though, is the fact that you’re equally as obsessed with him. you had a bumbling crush on him throughout all of your years at hogwarts; his confidence and extroverted personality always attracted you to him, and despite his vaguely arrogant air, he was quite kind to you.

thus, when he asked you on a date after running into you at the leaky cauldron on order business, you reluctantly said yes. the result was quickly turning into the marauder’s worst nightmare: remus and sirius were getting fed up with your constant pda, baby-talking each other when you’re sure you won’t be overheard and snogging at the most inconvenient of times. it wasn’t uncommon to get an exasperated comment from sirius along the lines of, “we’re at war for merlin’s sake, can’t you two give it a rest for five minutes?” to which you would flush and james would make an obscene gesture.

currently, you’re curled up on a couch in lily’s flat, listening half-heartedly as she recounts the story of an awful date she recently went on. there’s a drink clasped in your hand, all but forgotten as you divide your attention between lily and the distracting sight of your boyfriend standing with frank and remus in the kitchen. he’s got a cigarette perched between his lips, soft smile decorating his features as he listens attentively to the story that remus is telling. your mouth goes dry as you watch him take a long drag of the cigarette, smoke puffing through his pillowy lips as he exhales. he’s got something of an oral fixation, you’ve discovered; he’s always got something occupying that pretty mouth, whether it be words, a cigarette, chewing gum, your fingers, your mouth... he keeps himself entertained, and you get the added benefits of admiring him as he does just that.

on nights like these, however, it can be a real inconvenience. you shift in your seat, legs pressing together as you force yourself to wrench your needy gaze away from the sight of him. you can’t help the want warming your lower body, your stomach fluttering at the thought of getting him alone to let him indulge his fixation.

“....so i told him i’d rather drink bubotuber pus than go on another bleeding date with him, and now he’s run around telling everyone how horrible i am.” you catch the tail-end of lily’s rant, laughing along with alice and marlene. you take a sip of your drink, still unable to control your wandering eyes.

sirius slinks back into the kitchen, returning from the washroom to grab himself another drink. he noticed you staring at james like a puppy in heat as he returned, feeling a smidge squeamish at the look in your eyes. he nudges james as he settles back into the conversation, a fresh drink in his hand.

“bit oblivious, are you, mate?” sirius wonders, making a questioning face. he nods towards you on the couch, where you swallow the lump in your throat as you force yourself to look back at lily. “your girl’s staring a fuckin’ hole through you.”

james turns, his tall frame blocking some of the light spilling in from the kitchen. he notices the hot-and-bothered look on your face as you force yourself to listen to lily. you shift, hips moving of their own accord as you attempt to get comfortable and ignore the aching between your legs. your features are flushed with color. you push the hair off of your neck, suddenly feeling as if you need to get some air before you burn up.

you finish your drink, and absentmindedly place the glass on the coffee table in front of you. you manage a response to lily’s question, before your eyes are flicking back over to the kitchen. you blink as you realize james is now returning the attention, and your stomach drops. there’s a questioning glint in his eyes and he nods towards the balcony just behind you through the door in the sitting room.

you stand, legs feeling insecure.

“excuse me,” you mutter, brushing a hand down over your dress. “gonna have a smoke with james.”

“didn’t know you smoked,” alice’s soft voice trails as you exit the room.

you take a deep breath as you step outside. the cool evening air does wonders in calming your heart rate, although the heat between your legs is only worsening as you wait for james to join you. there’s a sickening moment where you wonder if you’d misread his intentions, before the glass door opens and he’s standing before you.

“hi, baby,” he says simply, voice soft as the door shuts behind him. you take him in, finally free to stare unabashedly. his dark curls are mussed, warm eyes obscured by smudged glasses, his lips chapped from puffing on his cigarette.

“hi,” you manage, a bit breathless. now that you’ve got him out here, all to yourself, you feel a bit in-over-your-head. he’s got a way of making you nervous, especially when he’s got this familiar smug look plastered on his handsome face.

“you okay?” he’s lighting another cigarette. his hand cups around the flame of his lighter, long fingers shielding it from the light breeze. you chew on your bottom lip, your mind conjuring up the image of his hands exactly where you’d like them. making you squirm and writhe and cry for him. you’re distracted still, the sight of his fingers bringing the cigarette to his lips. his mouth curling around it, sucking in the smoke.

“y/n, baby,” he breathes out, his head dipping down as his free hand reaches for you. his fingers cup your chin, lifting your eyes to his. his thumb ghosts over the corner of your lips. you meet his gaze, your eyes glassy as you daydream about him touching you all over. it’s almost frightening, this love-drunk effect he causes. even his grasp on your face is not enough to pull you away from your little fantasy.

“hmmm?” you hum, unable to find your words.

his narrows his eyes at you, tilting your face to either side as he examines you. “have you had too much to drink?” he wonders.

“no,” you shake your head, conscious enough to offer the one syllable response. he follows your gaze to the cigarette, flicking ash off of the end.

“y’want a smoke?” he offers it to you.

“want you,” you breathe. you lift your hand, grasping him around the wrist that’s holding your face in place. the desperation you feel is more extreme than it ever has been in the past; something about the clueless look on his face, the smoke, his wild hair haloed around his head, the atmosphere of the party. his presence is torturing you.

he laughs softly, taking another drag of the cigarette. there’s a fluttering sensation between your legs as his tongue darts out to wet his lips.

“kiss me,” you request, nuzzling into his hand. there’s a satisfied smile on his face as he leans down into you, slotting your mouths together. he tastes like cigarette smoke and an undertone of cinnamon gum. you latch onto him, fingers twisting into the tight curls at the nape of his neck. he breathes the smoke out into your mouth, the nicotine buzz worsening the dizziness from having his hands on you.

he flicks the cigarette nub away. now freed, his arm encircles your waist, his palm sliding down to your lower back. his grip tightens, holding you against his body as he tucks his knee between your legs. you whine at the contact, the fabric of his trousers grazing your thinly clothed center. this sends your core throbbing, though it does little to distract you from his tongue licking into your mouth.

an obscene noise breaks the quiet air as he pulls away from you. your lips are swollen, glistening with saliva as you stare up at him with your biggest eyes. he looks more than smug, he looks cockier than you’ve ever seen him. even after his quidditch victories back in school, he never had the proud gleam in his eyes that you’re witnessing now.

“poor baby,” he says, the almost-mocking tone to his voice sending a renewed throb down to your center. “so eager just for my mouth on you, aren’t you?”

you whine, hands fisting the fabric of his sleeves as you hold onto him. you’re too turned on to be embarrassed, even as he coos at you in his condescending tone. “jamie…”

“so needy you couldn’t keep your eyes off me. poor pads had to watch you eye-fucking me from across the room.” his head dips down, nose grazing the sensitive skin of your neck. he drags his lips against the skin softly, tongue darting out periodically to taste your skin. he breathes you in, relishing in the smell of your perfume and the tang of your sweat.

“stop teasing,” you complain. he just barely presses his thigh closer to you, notched between your legs. a hiss tumbles from your lips.

“why would i stop when you’re enjoying it so much?” he wonders. you feel the smirk against your neck, and you curse him in your mind. “so wet you’re soaking me through my trousers. you’d like me to take you right here, wouldn’t you, sweets?”

“yes,” you breathe. you’re practically clawing at him, rolling your hips for the slightest bit of friction on your clit. you think you could likely come just from the sight of him kneeling in front of you, not even touching you.

“oh, but we mustn’t…” he continues. “see, you’ve already been rude to lily all night, ignoring her whilst you’re thinking of my mouth doing dirty things to you. it’d be criminal to defile her balcony, don’t you agree?”

“i–” you gasp at the feeling of his thigh flexing, the toned muscle rutting into your clit as he uses his hands to drag you along his leg. “i–fuck, james, i don’t care.”

he chuckles darkly at this, then stops for a second to suck a dark mark into your skin. your head is thrown back, your eyes catching sight of the stars floating in the sky. they’re swimming, your gaze glassy with need for your boyfriend. it’s a wonder no one’s spotted you through the door. luckily it’s very dark outside, and the light spilling out onto the balcony from inside is too faint to illuminate the vulgar sight of you grinding against james.

“come,” he directs you away from the door, pressing you against a shadowed wall on the other end of the balcony. you never realize just how tall he is until he has you cornered, his body holding yours in place. his fingers play with the ends of your hair as he looks down at you, admiring your hazy expression. “gonna be good f’me, right, baby?”

“yes,” you nod eagerly. “anything y’want, jamie.”

“good,” he brushes the back of his hand over your cheek. then he’s dragging the fabric of your dress up your hips, hooking his fingers through the waistline of your panties. “gotta be quiet, hmmm? don’t want anyone hearing, do we?”

you nod in agreement. your lip is tucked between your teeth, your eyes frenzied as you anticipate his next movements. james wastes no time, dropping to his knees. he’s eye-level with your dripping cunt, using one hand to spread your lips apart as the other comes up to touch you.

a mewl spills from your mouth, one of your hands falling down to card through his curls. he smirks, placing a sweet kiss against your inner thigh. he spreads your slick around with two fingers, the dirty squelching noise like music to his ears.

“what did i say?” he asks you, peering up at you through thick lashes. he massages your clit softly, waiting for an answer.

“gotta be quiet,” you respond. your voice is choked up at the sight of him looking so devilishly handsome between your legs.

“that’s right,” there’s a split second of lost contact before his hand comes back with a sharp slap against your clit. it’s unexpected, and you bite down on your tongue as a muffled squeal leaves your mouth. “don’t want me to have to use a silencing charm on you, baby.”

“‘m sorry, james,” you say. you bring a hand to your mouth, hoping to use it to muffle your noises. “please, i’ll be quiet.”

without warning, he plunges two of his fingers into your sopping hole. your entire body tenses, your back lifting away from the brick wall as you arch into his touch. his teeth drag up your thigh, nipping softly before he turns his full attention to your pussy. he flattens his tongue and drags it from just above his fingers to your clit, swirling around the sensitive nub.

tears prick your eyes, the feeling overwhelming after not being touched all night. you bite onto your fist, swallowing down the vulgar noises that desperately need to escape your body. you have a tight grip in his curls, pulling the hairs more aggressively than intended. this eggs him on, soliciting a powerful curl of his fingers inside of you. they rut into your g-spot, exacerbating the pressure that builds in your lower stomach.

you want to scream, need to scream so bad that you’re crying over him. silent tears roll down your cheeks, ruining your makeup as james continues his merciless attack on your cunt. his full lips are attached to your clit, sucking and licking and humming against the bud. you tremble, the muscles in your abdomen and thighs clenching from the effort of holding yourself up while trying not to cum too fast.

a miniscule cry manages to break through despite your best efforts. james’s mouth releases from your clit with a slick pop, and he eyes you carefully. his warm eyes are considerably darker, clouded with lust. “thought you were gonna come like this, did you?” he says, his voice almost mean. you’ve never had him like this, teasing and condescending and demanding. it’s driving you crazy, this new, rougher side of him.

“please, james,” you whisper, trying your hardest not to make another noise. “i–i’m sorry i made noise. just want your mouth, please…”

he grins, his parted lips finding your clit again. his teeth graze the nub, and a jolt of electricity goes through your entire body. “like this?” he muses, nibbling gently on the collection of nerves. it takes everything inside of you not to scream like a banshee, the new sensation sending fluids dripping down over his hand and wrist.

“gonna come, then?” he asks, raising an eyebrow. his lips are no longer attached to your clit, but his fingers thrust roughly into your weeping hole. “can you come like this? come just for my fingers, baby?”

“james i–please, i can’t,” you whine, eyes rolling back in your head.

“oh, but you’re feeling so good for me,” he says, dragging his fingers along your walls deliciously. the pressure is building, slower inside your stomach. but you need his mouth on you, need him sucking your clit in order to come. you need the fireworks that his experienced tongue coaxes out of your body. you need the full body, cloud nine sensation of him eating you out.

“fuck can you just eat me out, please?” you plead, voice more demanding this time.

this takes him off guard, the rhythm of his fingers stuttering for half a second before he’s drilling them into you with more aggression. he gives you no warning before his mouth is on you again, devouring you with every ounce of energy he has. your vision begins to blank, mouth hanging open in a silent scream as he wrecks your pussy with his fingers and tongue. you can’t make a single sound, can’t even think of anything except the overwhelming bliss between your legs. he eats you through your orgasm, overstimulating your clit as he removes his fingers from inside of you.

“james–”

“shut up,” he hisses, standing once the waves of your orgasm have diminished. he grabs you by the hips, spinning you around so you’re pressed against the wall. the brick digs into your skin slightly, your hands splayed on the wall as he pushes you into it. his hands fall from your hips to between your legs, spreading you for his access.

“‘m sorry, i–i didn’t mean to–”

but he’s not listening. you feel the tip of his cock prod your hole for half a second before he’s buried to the hilt in your slick. there’s a split second where he’s still inside of you, fumbling with his wand as he easily cast an imperturbable charm on the glass door leading inside.

“‘m gonna make you scream,” he promises, grasping your hips and hitching them back towards him. the position deepens the angle of his cock inside of you, and you cry out as he begins pistoning in and out of you.

still sensitive from your previous orgasm, your mind goes foggy from the feeling of him abusing your cunt. his pace is relentless, the head of his cock barreling into your g-spot with enough force that you’re struggling to even hold yourself up. his fingertips dig into the flesh of your hips, bruising the soft skin. there are tiny crescent moon fingernail marks, possibly a prick of blood from the harsh grip he has on you.

“fuck, it hurts so good,” you cry, lacing your fingers with his and holding on for dear life.

“you like when i hurt your little pussy, huh baby? like my cock tearing you apart?” he presses his lips to the soft spot where your shoulder and your neck meet. he’s panting in your ear, groaning as your walls clench tight around him. you’re getting close to your second orgasm already, your thighs quivering and arousal soaking down your legs.

“i love it, love you inside of me,” you respond, unable to think. your voice is barely audible over the wet slapping noises of his hips slamming into your bare ass. the sound of skin on skin coupled with his throaty noises is driving you closer to the edge.

this new, rougher side of james has your insides fluttering around him. you squeal in delight as one of his hands brings your wrists together behind you, holding you in place. the brick wall bites into the skin of your cheek, but you hardly notice as his other hand aims a sharp slap against your ass. he grunts at the sight of his handprint appearing on your skin, making his cock throb inside of you. another slap rings through the air, and you cry out. you tighten around him, closer and closer to orgasming by the second.

“james–” you breath, chest heaving, “‘m gonna come. i can’t hold it any longer.”

“come on, baby,” he encourages, maintaining his pace inside of you. “cry for me while you come, baby. wan’ the whole world to know i’m fucking you.”

you do just that, your entire body collapsing between him and the wall as your second orgasm washes over you. you’re mewling his name into the night, begging him not to stop. you hear his cocky chuckle over your shoulder, followed by a low groan from his chest. his hips slow, hot spurts of release spraying your insides as he reaches his own orgasm.

“fuck, y/n,” he breathes, feeling you clench around him as he fills you up. “m’good girl, aren’t you?” he praises. he rocks into you a few final times, fucking his cum deeper as he sweeps your hair off of your neck.

you sigh as he pulls out of you, helping you back into your panties. you hope they’re enough to keep the cum contained inside of you until you’re able to clean up. james helps you straighten your dress out, pecking you on the lips. with a wave of his wand, the smeared makeup all over your face is put right, and there’s very little evidence of your relations.

“thank you,” you breathe, leaning into him as you try and catch your bearings. “i love you,” you mutter, closing your eyes.

“i love you, sweets,” he kisses your temple, wrapping an arm around your shoulders as he leads you back inside, having lifted his imperturbable charm.

your return goes virtually unnoticed, as lily and marlene are refilling drinks in the kitchen while sirius recounts a story from his childhood. you return to the sitting room, sinking onto the sofa beside alice. she eyes you for a second, then says, “smoked the whole pack, did you?”

#james potter #james potter x reader #james potter smut #james potter fic #james potter x reader smut #marauders era #marauders fic #marauders fanfiction #marauders smut #marauders era fic #smut #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter #slb.works #from the queue

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lovings4turn · 1 month

Note

becca, my love. i saw that your blurb requests are open, so can i request oscar with "taking off their makeup when they're too tired"? thank you!

ᯓ★ 𝐜𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐮𝐚𝐥 — 𝐨𝐬𝐜𝐚𝐫 𝐩𝐢𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐢

ahhh nora lovely thank you sm for sending this in !!! adore writing for oscar so thank you for giving me the opportunity to 🤭🤭 this ended up being longer than i expected but what can i say i got carried away !!! hope you like this lovely

indistinct dialogue washes over you as your ears tune in to the sound of oscar’s heartbeat, the sound much more preferable to the drama of the characters currently on the screen in front of you.

curled against your boyfriend’s chest, the glow of the television washing over you both and bathing you in a fuzzy, low light, you find it hard to keep your eyes open for longer than a minute at a time.

oscar is just so warm, the fabric of his hoodie against your skin so soft, and you had woken up disgustingly early that morning for an eight am class that preceded a long study session at the library. so, it’s no surprise that your exhaustion is quickly catching up to you, a lion stalking its prey.

since his gaze has been resting on you rather than the random sit-com for the past ten minutes, oscar is quick to notice the drowsiness consuming your features.

“let’s get you to bed, eh?” oscar asks, patting your side twice with the tips of his fingers to prompt you to stand.

“i’m not even that tired,” you protest, words coming out in a low whine thanks to your desperation to remain in the warm embrace of oscar’s arms.

“tell that to your eyes, sweetheart. they’re practically closed.”

almost on cue, you lift your hand to rub at your tired eyes before you stop abruptly, loose fist hovering just in front of your face. a frustrated noise escapes you, and your head falls back against oscar’s chest at the realisation.

“i still have to take my makeup off.”

oscar fixes you with a look of amused pity. though he’s clearly sympathetic to your plight, he’d be lying if he said he didn’t find your theatrics somewhat entertaining.

strong arms wrap around your waist, and oscar gently helps you to your feet, sending you off to bed with the promise that he’ll be right behind you.

curiosity picks at your mind, but you’re far too tired to argue or ask questions. your body operates on autopilot as it leads you down the hall to your bedroom, and you flop down onto the soft mattress without hesitation.

never had you been more thankful at oscar’s insistence that you wear his clothes as much as possible: already dressed in one of his old t-shirts and some pyjama shorts, getting changed into something cosier was not a problem you would have to tackle tonight.

oscar appears a few minutes later, and it seems that he’s brought the entirety of your skincare shelf with him. countless bottles and tubs are piled up in his arms, threatening to spill over as he fumbles towards the bed.

with furrowed brows, oscar drops the bundle of products onto your comforter and lets out a breath, beginning to survey the many different items sitting in front of him. “right then, let’s see,” he mumbles, picking up one product at a time and scanning the labels with such an intensity that, had you the energy, you would have teased him for.

“moisturiser, no. facial scrub, no. hyaluronic aci- what even is this stuff?”

you can’t help it. a laugh bubbles up in your throat, and though your eyes are heavy with sleep, oscar can see the way that the crinkle slightly at the intensity of your smile.

as fun as it is to listen to oscar grow increasingly confused with each skincare product he scrutinises, you decide it’s best to put him out of his misery sooner rather than later. “purple bottle, babe. might wanna grab some cotton pads, too. next to where you grabbed everything else from.”

oscar follows your instructions instantly, setting your makeup remover off to the side before he scoops the other products up into his arms once more, heading to return them to their rightful home in your bathroom. he soon returns triumphant, holding up the packet of cotton pads in his left hand as though it’s one of his racing trophies.

idiot, you think fondly.

soon, he’s sitting beside you, tilting your face upwards towards him with two fingers. the movement is tender, and you can’t help but lean forward to press a kiss to the bridge of his nose.

with a level of care you imagine someone would reserve for a newborn, oscar begins to swipe away at your makeup, putting a lot of effort into not tugging at your skin.

every so often, he speaks, questions of “feel alright?” and “not hurting you, am i?” filling the otherwise peaceful silence.

each time your answer is the same: a slight shake of the head with a reassuring hum. you’re convinced that oscar could never be anything but tender with you, and this only adds to your hypothesis.

a few seconds pass, and you can no longer feel oscar wiping at your face. your eyes flutter open, greeted by the sight of oscar admiring you with an adoring expression.

a light flush dusts the top of his cheekbones, and his lips are pulled up into a foolish, love-sick grin. he doesn’t shy away when he realises he’s been caught, only moves to press a chaste kiss to your lips. “now,” he starts, voice playful. “wanna tell me what the next step is, babe?”

#.° ༘🗝️⋆₊ becca’s drabbles #oscar piastri #oscar piastri x reader #oscar piastri drabble #oscar piastri blurb #oscar piastri x you #oscar piastri fluff #formula one x reader #formula one x you #f1 x reader #f1 x you

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nightmarist · 6 months

Text

Some Zevlor Things —

EDIT 12/2/23: Added a few more things

A fellow Tiefling Hellrider, Tilses, is with him in the caves acting as his bodyguard. He sometimes calls her Tilly.

There is one bedroll in the caves shoved off in the far corner with a book titled "The Devil You Know: An Autobiography" - not sure if it's his personal writing or if he's reading it, either way it adds to the flavor of his of his tiefling pride (and/or anguish).

It reads:

Have you ever had a god change your blood? It is a horrifying thing, even for those who may desire it. Yet few tieflings wished for Asmodeus to claim their bodies, only be given no choice in the matter. It is not as if we were well-loved before the archdevil's gambit. Our people have always struggled against the notion of 'devilkin', as if a single drop of infernal ichor inescapably corrupts. How amusing, when so many others willingly sell their souls to fiends, yet their culture as a whole escapes the blame. By what method can we redeem ourselves, when the crime is not ours? I would drive a blade into every warlock that aided Asmodeus' damned ritual, but personal vengeance cannot undo the will of a god, much less one as slippery as the Lord of Lies. When every passerby thinks you a thief and heretic, it is deeply tempting to become one. (cut off) The only thing that has stopped me is knowing Asmodeus wants nothing more than for all of us to fall from grace.

Around the his table are Invasion Plans for Elturgard, Traveler's Guide to Baldur's Gate, Traveler's Guide to the Sword Coast Vol IV: The Risen Road (which aligns when he tells you earlier there are gnolls on the road), and "Front and Center: a Thespian's Memoir" that reads:

"... in fact, the greatest joy of my life hasn't been acting, but becoming. When you choose a character to play, you don't just wear a mask - you take a little bit of their soul for your own. Whoever you are in your heart of hearts, if only by the faintest note."

Zevlor aside I think this is a sweet quote for the player and player character relationship <3

Dialogue in the Caves:

Zevlor: I Hardly need a bodyguard, Tilses. This isn't Avernus. Tilses: No sir. At least the monsters there looked like monsters.

—

Tilses: Commander— Zevlor: Just Zevlor, Tilly. We're civilians now, remember? Tilses: With respect, sir — being a Hellrider is for life. They can't take — Zevlor: They can, and did. Avernus changed things — best we get used to that. Tilses: ... Yes, Zevlor

—

Tilses: The Watch or the Flaming Fist? Zevlor: Pardon? Tilses: When we get to Baldur's Gate. Where are we enlisting? Zevlor: I'm done soldiering, Tilly. I'd like a clean start. But go with the Watch. You're too honest to be a mercenary.

—

Zevlor: No word from the scouts, yet? Tilses: No sir. But if there's a clear path past the goblins, they'll find it. Zevlor: Yes, of course.

ITEMS —

in the Chest there is a bronze goblet, 46 gold, and a battle-worn blade. On his person he has his gloves (Hellrider's Pride), an apple, a camp supply pack, and the key to his chest.

The blade says:

A fine by well-used sword. It seemed to have once belonged to a holy order, but the indication of rank and patron deity at the hilt have recently been filed down.

The gloves' flavor text says:

A waft of sulphur emanates from this proudly-kept piece.

Celebration at the Camp:

"I should be out there, talking with them. In... Just a moment, maybe." "Is this everyone? Our numbers have grown so few..." "No more. I can't afford to lose any more of them." "No. Let them have fun. I'll be ruining it come morning anyway."

Mindfayer Colony:

Things he mumbles in the Pod:

The pod will show you his memories of Elturel:

After saving Zevlor, I forced myself to pick the "mean" options just to see how it goes.

If you tell him its his fault tieflings were imprisoned in moonrise, he says:

If you tell him "Do yo have a right to ask?" when he asks about the tieflings:

He doesn't argue with any of your remarks except one, when he says "For a moment I welcomed it" and you tell him "For a moment until you realized your reward would be a tadpole" he corrects you:

If you tell him if he wanted power he should live up to his own ideal:

If you tell him to get out of your sight:

When you tell him it's not his fault he was enthralled:

If you tell him "Fine. Good luck, Zevlor."

If you say you could use another blade in the fight to come:

At the Netherbrain:

(smiling <3)

"The journey has been brutal, but I stand here a Hellrider once more, and I would die a proud man if I died this day."

I know it's a Soldier thing to be proud to die for a cause but it still makes me worry for him given his background so far <:]

If you click on him, he has two unvoiced lines:

if you pickpocket him at this point, he'll have the same items on him as before (in this save he has a carrot instead of an apple for me).

His stats at this time: (Steeped in Bliss is from one of my items)

Post Game (Patch 5)

I don't know if there are other permutations of this letter, yet, but this is what I received:

I hope my penmanship has improved somewhat in the past months. When I first stumbled into this city, I shook so badly that I could scarcely hold the soup the priests pressed into my hands - let alone write and thank you as you deserve. It is only when the city itself began to shake that I felt my hands grow still. Along with the other veterans sheltering at the temple - discards of Elturel's 'unworthy' legions - I watched that monstrosity rise over the city. We felt no fear. Only anger. Disgust. Purpose - and with it, power. I do not know what oath we cling to now, or how long it will last - but we shall use it to ensure that this city will not suffer as Elturel did. Whether it wants us or not. It is more than thanks alone I owe. No words can make amends for what I did to my people, but that is as it should be. More come to the temple every day to aid in the relief efforts, and if I am permitted to work alongside them, then I am content. Come and see us, when you can. Zevlor

It's interesting — if not bitterswet, tragic, and inspiring — to hear that Zevlor and other Paladins regained their Oaths via pure, stubborn devotion to saving people when it began to look as bad as Elturel.

#zevlor #bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #act 1 spoilers #act 2 spoilers #bg3 spoilers #this man reeks of self loathing i want to bathe him in love and comfort #i also want him carnally #act 3 spoilers #bg3 meta

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casiia · 1 year

Note

OMG OMG OKAY HEAR ME OUT. ghostface ethan edging reader after reader receives a phone call from him…!!?!?!?!!!

[ 𝐨𝐧 𝐞𝐝𝐠𝐞 ੈ✩‧₊˚ ]

pairing .: ethan landry x reader

genre .: suggestive content

word count .: 2k

warnings .: smut-ish (minors dni.), contains scream XI spoilers! scream plotline, threatening, mentions of a knife, soooo unedited, kissing, lingering touches, dry humping

author's note .: maybe planning on making another part to this <3 i have no idea if this is what was actually requested, but i had a lot of fun writing this! took a massive break from writing and i think i’m back, this is probably very ooc and might make no sense but i have zero experience writing thriller things like this idk. dialogue was used from the 1995 (or 7) scream movie. accepting constructive criticism, reblogs are appreciated.

“hey, pretty girl.”

pulling the phone away from your ear confused, you checked your screen to see who was on the other line, frowning slightly when you saw no contact.

“who is this?” setting the home phone back on it’s stand, you let the call ring out on speaker, turning your attention back to the stove.

“there’s no fun in telling you who i am just yet, why don’t you answer a few of my questions first.”

rolling your eyes, you shook the pot once more before turning to lean against the counter, the buttery smell of popcorn filling your nose. “why should i do that?” speaking over the loud crackles and pops coming from the fire, you moved around the island to grab a bowl.

“it’ll be fun. so tell me, what’s your favorite scary movie?”

“hm, i don’t know.” pouring the yellow kernels into the large bowl, you popped a few pieces into your mouth with a satisfied hum. grabbing the phone and turning it off speaker, you pressed it between your ear and shoulder, balancing the device steadily. “maybe, halloween? think that’s the one where that guy stalks the babysitters.”

“you think it was scary?”

“i guess, anyways. tell me who you are now.” ungraciously falling onto the couch, you picked at the pieces of popcorn that had fallen into your lap, licking your lips with a smile as a salty taste covered your tastebuds.

“can’t do that princess, haven’t finished asking my questions.”

“then hurry up and ask them already.” annoyance showing on your face, you reached across the many throw pillows and grabbed the remote — clicking through the channels with disinterest, before going to browse your downloaded pick of scary movies.

“you got a boyfriend?”

eyebrows raising in shock, you stilled with a quiet laugh. “why, wanna ask me out on a date or what.” you teased the person on the other line, shifting in your seat as you began to ponder who you were really talking to.

“we’ll see, do you have a boyfriend?”

“no.” placing the overflowing bowl of popcorn on the coffee table, you stood to make way to your room, keeping the chunky phone against your ear.

“that’s a shame, such a pretty one you are.”

biting back a smile, you switched the light to your room on; bending down to open your drawer of pajamas, you tossed an oversized shirt onto your neatly made bed. “you gonna be this charming to me when i find out who you are?”

“maybe.”

“got anymore questions for me, or can i start guessing who this is.” unbuttoning your jeans, you kicked the pair of uncomfortable pants off . turning the speaker back on, you tossed the phone onto your pillow, pulling your tank top up and over your head before slipping on the big shirt.

“go ahead, you’re giving me such a good show.”

“what are you talking about?” picking up the dirty clothes that you had left stranded on your floor, you walked into your connecting bathroom, putting the clothes in your dirty hamper.

“hm, that’s a nice shirt you’re wearing. where did you get it?”

eyes widening in surprise, you slowly turned back into your bedroom, your knuckles white as you gripped onto the phone. “can you see me?”

“ah what a good girl! putting her brain to some use.”

“if you can really see me, how many fingers am i holding up?” walking up to your window, you peered outside trying to get a good look. sticking out your middle finger, you squinted as you stared into your dark backyard, trying to piece together unfamiliar shadows.

“funny, one.”

“shit.” shutting your blinds in hurry, you stumbled out of your room, quickly heading back downstairs. “who is this, jason?”

“from econ? no.”

“you better leave me alone, my boyfriend is coming over soon.” closing the blinds to your backdoor, you shuffled into your kitchen, grabbing a large knife. “he’s strong, s-so get out of here!”

“i thought you said you didn’t have a boyfriend?”

“w-well i lied!” locking your front door, you turned down all the lights, curling into a corner, knife in hand. your breath was ragged, eyes darting from place to place in worry. “tell me who you are before i call the police.”

“quit being such a brat, the fun isn’t over just yet.”

chewing on your lip, tears lined your waterline as fear overtook you. anxiety creeping up your throat with every shallow breath you took. “this isn’t funny.” you flinched at the loud noise emitting from the buzzing device, a staticy and robotic laugh filling the eerily quiet apartment.

“you look so cute with that knife. what’re you gonna do, stab me?”

“show yourself, you coward!” standing from the hardwood floor, you paced around the kitchen, blinking away any tears that threatened to spill down your pink cheeks. frustration and anger burning in your chest, when the anonymous caller laughed again.

“careful what you wish for.”

a loud ringing echoes from the phone as the call ends, the wind whistling against the windows has you whipping your head to each sudden noise. pressing yourself up against the wall, the knife that you held a safe distance away from you.

“where are you, motherfucker.” your voice just barely above a whisper, you jumped at the sound of your doorknob rattling – a fist loudly knocking against the wood of your door. “go away! i’ll kill you.”

“baby? hey, what’s going on it’s just me.”

“ethan?” letting the knife drop to the marble of your kitchen countertop, you winced at the loud clang. running to your front door, you stood on the tip of your toes, peering through the peak hole to see your boyfriend awkwardly standing in front of you. twisting the lock, you threw the door open before jumping into his arms.

“what’s wrong? did you forget i was coming or something?” pressing a quick kiss to your cheek, he circles his arms around your waist with a hesitant laugh.

“no- no. this guy just prank called me, i was so scared.” pressing your face into his shoulder, you gripped onto his coat, muffled sobs racking from your chest. “he saw me, ethan.”

“no, pretty, don't cry. i’m sure it was just some sick joke.” gently pulling you away from his tearstained coat, he cradled your face in the palm of his hand; wiping your wet cheeks, he pressed a light kiss in between your brows. “relax, no one’s gonna hurt you as long as i’m here.”

“can you stay the night?” leaning into his touch, you wrapped your arms around his neck pulling him closer to you. “don’t think i can sleep without you.” twirling his thick brown hair between your fingers, you sighed heavily, relaxing in his embrace.

“of course, i was planning on it anyway.” adjusting the bag on his shoulder, he squeezed your hip once nudging you inside your apartment. “don’t want these creeps lookin at you, especially without pants.”

shaking your head with a smile, you wiped your remaining tears with the back of your hand, sniffling quietly and shuffling back inside. “lock it, please.” grabbing his bag, you tossed it onto the sofa, the sound of a lock clicking easing your shoulders.

“you were really scared, huh.” ethan laughs at the abandon knife on the counter, picking it up and putting it back with the other collection of cooking knives.

“i was, that was the creepiest interaction i’ve ever had.” dragging your hands down your face with a huff, you walked over to your boyfriend, wrapping your arms around his torso and pressing your face into his back. “y’should jus’ move in with me.” your words muffled, you felt his chest rise and fall with another laugh.

“i was the one that made that request, i’d rather live with you than chad.” he loosened your arms around him, dragging you around his body so you were caged between him and the counter. “i am really sorry you had to go through that, did you call the police?”

“no, i think there are worse things to worry about. it was just some silly call.” rubbing your arms nervously, you took a deep breath, reassuring yourself of any crazy thoughts. “i don’t want to talk about it anymore, how was your day?” pulling yourself up on the countertop, you shuddered lightly when your bare skin met with the cool marble.

“uninteresting, just caught up in some classes, i missed you a lot.” moving in between your legs, he dragged his fingers against your thigh, teasing the hem of your shirt higher up your leg. “is this mine? i’ve been looking for it.” inching his hand up your shirt, he squeezed your hip, his thumb trailing along the lace of your panties.

“mhm, it’s comfortable. didn’t think you’d miss it much.” sinking your teeth into your bottom lip, you placed your hands on his chest, drawing little circles into his shirt. looking up at him through your lashes, you licked your lips, your fingers settling at the base of his neck. “ethan…”

“what is it, baby.” bringing his other hand up to your cheek, he tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. “want me to stop?” moving to retract his hand that found it’s way under your shirt, he looked down at you with worried eyes, scared that he had read the room wrong.

“no! no. i want you, ethan.” grabbing his wrist, you bring his large hands back to your body, leaning forward to press a sweet kiss to his collarbone. “do you— do you want me?” guiding his hands under your shirt, you whined softly, his cold fingers grazing your stomach.

“oh fuck.” mumbling under his breath, he pressed his lips to your forehead, glancing down at your exposed panties; pretty and pink, decorated with a white lace, a small bow stitched right in the center.

“gonna answer my question?” trailing along the seam of his belt, you played with the hem of his shirt, your lips lingering on his skin with every word you mumbled.

“i do, baby. let me make you feel good.” rubbing up and down your sides with a light chuckle, he gently patted your waist. “you deserve it, such a good girl.”

tugging at the collar of his thick coat, you pressed your soft lips to his with a happy hum, your fingers entangling in his curly brunette hair. swiping your tongue against his bottom lip, you brought your hand up to cup his jaw, pulling him impossibly closer to you.

ethan grinned against your lips, snaking his arm around your waist to grind his clothed crotch against your damp panties. “s’wet for me, haven’t even done anything to you yet.”

gasping into his mouth at the roll of his hips, you squeezed your thighs around his waist yearning for more. “please, ethan.” your words blurred together as you continued to kiss him – you tugged lightly on his hair with a mewl, the bulge showing in his jeans nudging your clit.

“so needy, can’t wait–”

a deafening ring cuts him off, his phone softly buzzing in the pocket of his jacket. letting your hands fall from his hair and atop of his shoulders, you shook your head with concern. “ethan, no.”

“relax, i bet it’s just chad.” giving your thigh a reassuring squeeze, he reaches into his pocket, pulling out the red phone. tilting his screen, he showed you the number on the screen, one that he had not previously saved. “recognize it?”

“no, i wasn’t shown a number.” anxiously playing with your fingers, you kept your eyes glued to the vibrating phone. “put it on speaker.”

nodding at your request, you watched him accept the call, letting it play out loud. “who is this?”

“hello, ethan. what’s your favorite scary movie?”

🏷 .: @loaksbitch @sullybby @vmptears my stinky ethan landry apologist

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acourtofwhatthefuck · 3 months

Note

Hello, hope you're doing alright. I have a pretty twisted one shot request concerning our amazing Shadowsinger. I was looking at the super natural dark dialogue prompts list and I feel like the #24 and #36 would fit perfectly for my request.

So basically: I was thinking about Azriel capturing the reader. She's a spy from the Spring Court and she was on a mission wandering at the border of the Night Court. When the reader wakes up, she's tied up in Azriel torture room. She also realizes how Azriel seems to be drawn to her. As she tries to find a way to make him untie her, she remembers something about Illyrians obssesion with bargains and deals. She offers to make a deal with him that the first one to make the other cum earn a favor. If she wins he spares her life, and if not he can kill her. And like as they conclude the pack, a tattoo appears on both of them and bla bla bla... and she ends up winning this challenge maybe?

Can't wait to see if you'll be willing to write this! I think it would have a lot of potential if written by you. Anyways, keep up your good work. I love your writing.

Okay, I know I said my next release would be the POM bonus bits, and then I’d be working on my other pieces, but I got this request and had immediate inspiration for it, so here it is!

Thank you to whoever sent this in! I hope I did it justice. It was very fun to write! I hope you enjoy 🫶🏻

The prompts you requested to be included in this will be written in bold.

Note: I haven’t tagged anyone in this because I desperately need to sort out my tag lists and haven’t had the chance. I’ll add them later if I get the time. Sorry!

Warnings: Smut! 18+, minors dni. NSFW. Some details of aggressive behaviour. Azriel being a sore ass LOSER.

Lust is a Losing Game — Azriel x Reader.

You can feel the caress of Night before your eyes open.

Every single court you have trespassed and traversed has its own distinct feel. The Autumn Court feels perpetually — and unsurprisingly — like a stroll through a forest, touched by brisk air and hues of oranges, yellows, reds. Your home court — Spring — has a feeling of renewed hope; like the first rays of sun after a long, harsh winter.

The Night Court is blood-drenched, rippling darkness, and the allure of scandal, of want, of lust.

Night time is for secrets and exploration. It’s for burning the bridge between who you are in the daylight and becoming something…else. It’s exciting, and it’s coaxing, and—

Cold, sharp metal prods beneath your chin. Its point is lethal. Any wrong move, and you’re bleeding.

Perhaps even more lethal is the quiet voice that commands, “Eyes open.”

Slowly, you comply — because you are both intrigued and wise. Intrigued by where you went wrong and where you ended up. Wise, because you know that cold, granite voice.

It doesn’t surprise you in the least to open your eyes and find Azriel the shadowsinger stood in front of you, his blade at your throat.

You know of him, of course — spymaster of the Night Court, a rare species of fae, far more powerful than many realise. You’ve sat across from him during terse meetings between courts and been the target of those guarded, icy stares. You’ve never heard him utter more than a few words at a time; he is spoken for by reputation, by violence and threat and battle.

But you’d know that voice anywhere.

You peer up at him through eyes blurred by some sort of power. And when your lips tilt up into a smile, a subtle tick of his jaw tells you it incenses him.

“Hello, Azriel.” You rasp.

The blade presses into your skin as he asks, “What were you doing at the border of our court?”

“Picking wildflowers. Foraging berries. Making a daisy chain. All the things a lady loves to do.”

A quiet noise sounds in his throat. “Is that what you are? A lady?”

“I’m whatever you want me to be, shadowsinger.”

His answering smile is cruel. A harsher press, and his blade nicks your throat. A drop of warm blood blooms on your skin.

Your eyes, rapidly clearing, take quick stock of your surroundings. The room is dark and damp and cold, empty save for the chair on which you sit — to which you are constrained. You can scent the blood of a thousand previous victims of the shadowsinger, and you imagine the vacancy of the space must have been more intimidating to them, somehow, than if the room were filled to the brim with torture instruments. The lack thereof tells anyone who finds themselves here that the Night Court’s spymaster does not need such things to do his work.

You try to shift in the chair, and find yourself well and truly stuck in place. Your gaze drops to your feet, where shadows act as manacles, as firm and strong and steel. Though your hands are restrained around the back of the chair, the cool touch tells you that a shadow binds them, too.

Azriel follows your gaze. A smug smile graces his mouth as he watches you try and fail to move.

“An impressive little trick.” You offer, nodding to the shadows around your ankles. “Now be a gentleman and untie me.”

“Tell me what you were doing at our border, and maybe I will.”

“Tell me your secrets and I’ll tell you mine.”

“You’re not really in the position to barter, right now, are you?”

“And yet, here I am.” You smile. “Bartering.”

He stares down at you, shrouded in shadows, in night. His aloofness has been perfected over centuries, but you somehow know where to look in order to tell — you’re getting on his nerves.

A slight angling of his head. Shifting on his feet. He drags the tip of that blade up, not pressing quite hard enough to draw more blood, but to make a twisted heat enter your veins. The blade stops at your cheek.

“I don’t know how you do things in the Spring Court.” His breath caresses your face. “But I can’t imagine it’s part of your job description to be a smartass who can’t keep her mouth shut.”

Your eyes flick down to that blade. Back up to his gaze. “I can’t imagine it’s part of yours to lust over me so tirelessly.”

The shadowsinger actually falters.

Something tells you he would never do that in front of somebody else.

His teeth grit. He bites out, “Tell me why the fuck you were at the border—”

“I’ve seen you, you know.” A satisfied smirk curls your lips. You will not give away that your arms and legs are beginning to ache. “I’ve seen the way you’ve looked at me for years.”

A clatter bounces off the walls as he tosses his dagger to the floor. Can’t be one that means much to him, then. You almost laugh, but a scarred hand is gripping your chin to the point of pain. He tilts — yanks — your chin up. “Pray, tell, how do I look at you?”

“With hunger.”

“Hatred.”

“Lust.”

“Loathing.”

“Like you want to touch me.”

“I am going,” he snarls, “to wrap my hands around your throat and—”

“Fuck me?”

“Kill you.”

A mocking pout puckers your lips. “Less sexy.”

"You must be a fool," his fingers bite into your skin, "to laugh in the face of such danger."

"What danger would that be? You've handed me your threats. What are you waiting for, Azriel? Kill me."

He could easily retrieve his blade and gut you then and there. You know it. He knows it.

And yet he doesn't do it.

He clenches his jaw so hard that you hear his teeth clash. He squeezes your chin, calluses and scars grazing you. It feels...good.

But then a growl is ripping from deep within his chest, and he's tearing his hand away and pivoting on the spot. He's confident enough in the shadow bindings to turn his back to you, clearly.

You just smile. He can't do it. Can't kill you.

"I'll do you the courtesy of asking one last time." His voice is strained. "Why were you snooping around our border."

"Perhaps I was hoping you'd find me and tie me to a chair. I'm into that kind of stuff, you know. We could make this fun."

"You think this room is intended for fun?"

"I think you and I could have fun anywhere, shadowsinger."

He says nothing. You watch as he sucks in a deep breath, steels himself. By his command, a shadow dances out and retrieves his blade from the floor. His fist flexes at his side.

Perhaps you can irritate him enough that he'll either kill you or let you leave out of pure exasperation. Or turn on the tears and plead innocence, that you're just a foolish, foolish girl doing her High Lord's bidding.

Or perhaps you can have fun.

You scan your brain for what you know about this court. How you can use it to your advantage — use Azriel to your advantage. An idea knits itself in the twisted avenues of your mind.

"This court has a thing for bargains, does it not?" You watch Azriel's shoulders tense at the sound of your voice. "How about making a bargain with me?"

He chokes on a scoff. "Why would I want to make a bargain with you?"

"Because you want me."

Slowly, he turns. His eyes are narrowed, mouth pinched. He looks two seconds away from using that blade to wipe your head clean from your neck.

But then he smiles, cruelly and coldly. "How very sure of yourself you sound."

You mimic that smile. "I am." Damn right you are. "So here is my deal: you toy with that lust however you like. We tease each other. Coax reactions from each other."

"Where is the bargain in that?" No outright refusal.

"If I make you cum first, shadowsinger," your eyes fall to his breeches. You could swear you glimpse the outline of a bulge. "If I make you cum first, I get to walk out of here with my head still attached to my body. But if you make me cum first...well. You get to know why I was snooping around the Night Court border, and you can send my head back to my High Lord in a pretty little box."

He stares at you for what feels like so, so long. Head to toe, his eyes rake over you. His shadows whisper in his ears, things you don't need nor care to hear.

Because you might not have his shadows, but you are a spy, just as he is. And you know his mind is already made up.

Shadowsinger, spymaster, feared member of the infamous Night Court — but still, a male weakened by lust. Lust for you that has driven him mad for a long, long time.

Still, he tries to keep up a front. He sneers at you, "You'd so willingly barter away your life?"

You smile. Simply, prettily. "It turns me on."

Oh, he's lost to his need. There's a newer scent that has joined the present ones of cedar and night-chilled mist and bloodstains. This one is deeper, smokier. Spicier.

He points his blade at you, the tip glimmering. And the shadow binds fall away as he demands, "Undress."

Your hands fall back to your sides. "Are you saying you agree to my terms?"

"Yes. Now take. Your fucking. Clothes off."

"What way is that to talk to a lady?"

"You are no lady—" His words fall short as, with a snap of your fingers, your clothes disappear. Leave you in nothing but your undergarments. His eyes drink in the brassiere, the silky little fabric that hangs from your hips. He swallows. "And I am no gentleman."

A spy you may be — someone who throws themself into danger and risk and dirt and blood, time and time again. But you never see a reason not to wear pretty underwear while doing so. And gods, in this moment, you're very glad of that choice.

It's the same colour as the siphons that adorn the male before you. The coldness in Azriel's eyes is replaced by intense, raw heat. He takes a step towards you, but you kick out a leg.

"Your turn." You say.

He pauses. Chucks his dagger aside again.

And then his clothes are gone.

He doesn't seem the slightest bit fazed by the fact that he stands utterly naked before you. So much golden, sculpted skin on show. All over, white scars tell the stories of previous injuries. His body is a novel written over time.

That silky underwear of yours is already soaked as you take your fill of him. For a moment, you think you might stumble in your bravado. He's huge and hard and standing to attention. Utterly perfect.

But you sit up straight in the chair and plant your hands on the arms. Your legs part, and Azriel hungrily tracks the movement.

"There is only one rule." You tell him. "We don't want to make this too easy, after all."

His jaw flexes. Eyes don't stray from the growing damp patch between your thighs. "What's the rule."

"You can touch me. You can lick me. You can put your cock in my mouth and my hand and rub it against my skin. But you can't fuck me."

He starts, pupils blowing wide. "But—"

"Not today." Your lips curl up. "But if I win, and I walk out of here? Some other time, Azriel, you can fuck me."

"You are wicked."

"Do you accept my rule?"

"Yes."

You are wicked, indeed. You widen that gap between your legs until you're hooking them over the arms of the chair. Baring your silk-covered cunt to him. His eyes damn near roll into the back of his head at the sight.

"Do you think you can stand to touch me without fucking me?" You hum, your fingers dancing down to that, sweet, sweet spot. You run them over the dampness, biting your lip. "I don't think you can."

"You underestimate me." Azriel growls. "And you're going to cum first."

There is no opportunity for you to volley a response. Not as Azriel surges forward and yanks you out of the chair, his arms securing you. His firm, velvety cock presses against your stomach. His lips slide over yours in a harsh, bruising kiss.

A male of natural elegance and grace, he doesn't even falter in the kiss or his steps as he marches you back, back, until you're pressed up against a cold wall. You nip his bottom lip and reach between your bodies, wanting to feel the pulsing weight of his cock in your palm, but his hands are grabbing your wrists and holding them above your head.

"No hands." He snarls onto your lips. "Just my cock and your cunt. Whoever cums first is the loser."

You almost want to laugh. So, so easy this will be.

But then he's letting go of your hands and pinning you with a knee. And out of fucking nowhere, a slim bottle appears between his fingers. You watch, leaning against the cold surface of the wall, as he pulls the stopper out of the bottle and tilts it towards you.

Oil drips onto your chest. Rolls down your breasts, your stomach. Azriel watches with predatory focus as it floods to where he wants it — soaking your underwear.

The blue silk darkens, sticks to your skin. Showcases everything that Azriel so desperately wants, but everything he will not get — today.

And then so quickly, he's hoisting your leg at his hip. So quickly, his cock is pressing into your soaking undergarments.

He positions his length between your thighs and guides it through your clothed folds. Both of you let out an immediate gasp at the taunting sensation — that a mere bit of fabric separates you from what you both want.

"Is this how you're going to play it?" Your head falls back, teeth digging into your lower lip. "You think thrusting through my clothes is going to stop you from cumming?"

"No." He makes a small noise, slowly rolling his hips. Watches his glistening cock rubbing against the silk. "But I think I'm going to make you cum fast from it."

"And then you get to kill me."

"And then," the head of his cock nudges your clit, "I get to kill you."

The sensation is divine, you can’t deny it. A coiled, aching pleasure that sits tightly in your lower belly. Azriel hears your intake of breath, and he smiles like this will be easy for him. You’re having none of that.

You’re thankful for your refined stealth and balance as you clamp your leg tighter around him, pull him harder against you. His hands press flat against the wall either side of your head, and you both gasp as his cock rubs so torturously against you, up and down and up and down.

“Gods,” He grunts, dipping down to brush his lips against yours. “This is torture.”

You smile. “Does it feel good?”

“Yes.”

“Do you want me to remove my underwear? You still can’t fuck me, though.”

A suffering groan chokes out of him, and he throws his head back. Because yes, he fucking wants you to remove your underwear. Yes, he wants to feel his bare skin rubbing against your bare skin.

But gods, the temptation to slide his cock into you is going to be unbearable.

But even though he knows that, and you know that, he smiles like this is nothing. He bites out, pleasure wavering his voice, “Why not? It’ll only make you lose.”

“I think you’re giving yourself a little too much credit.” You say, and then your underwear is gone, leaving you naked and dripping with nothing to shield you.

Not expecting it so fast, Azriel’s cock slides easily through your folds — and the head nudges your entrance. Very nearly slips in. He growls and halts the roll of his hips.

“Oops.” You smirk. “Careful, shadowsinger.”

“You’re fucking insufferable.” He bites back, and then he’s kissing you.

The kiss robs you of breath and of words. All you can do is twine your arms around his neck and welcome the sensation of him fucking through your folds, your wetness his pleasure. You’re lost to the feeling of him bumping against your clit, rubbing against it. Your legs are beginning to tremble.

“I want to fuck you.” Azriel moans, dropping his head to take in the sight of his cock against your pussy, never entering, never going deeper.

“I know.” Your fingernails dig into his shoulders. “And you have wanted to for a very long time.”

“Yes.” He can’t even deny it. “Yes.”

“You think about me.”

“Yes.”

“You wonder what it’s like to be inside me.”

“Yes.”

“But not today.” Your hands stroke down his muscled arms, and you moan as he grinds his cock against your clit. “Not today.”

“Nor any other day.” His hand fists in your hair, yanking your head up. “Because I will have your head. Cum for me, lady.”

He kisses you again, and gods, you want to cum. Every single inch of you begs and trembles for it. You’re clenching around nothing, desperate to feel him inside you, fucking into you, spilling into you—

But through your pleasured haze, you remember: you will be victorious. Azriel cannot win.

And so when he’s kissing you and kissing you, moans catching in his throat and landing in your mouth, hips faltering with every thrust, you pull your lips from his and sink your teeth into his neck with a harsh bite. You’ve always imagined he’d like that.

And simultaneously, you lock him between your thighs and roll your hips torturously slow, dragging every last sensation from him.

Azriel’s cock, nestled snugly between the folds of your cunt, spasms and twitches. He slams his hands against the wall and goes still. Tries to pull back the control.

But it’s too late for that.

“Fuck!” He shouts, and then ropes of cum are spurting out of him and landing on your stomach, your breasts, your arms. Beads of it roll down his cock. He trembles hard, panting, groaning, growling.

And you suck harshly at his neck. Suck until it leaves a mark. And then pull away with a smile.

Breathing so, so heavily, Azriel’s gaze drops down to his cock like the damn thing has betrayed him. He’s wide-eyed and outraged. He’s not sure what’s just happened.

A horrid longing still aches between your legs and makes you want to continue until you’re exploding, too. But the triumph of a win is pleasure in itself.

“Well, well, well.” You glance down at the cum now coating your skin. “I do believe I was right.”

“What—” Azriel breathes, shaking out of his lust. “What kind of witchcraft was that?” He touches his neck, where you bit him. As though the answer lies there.”

You shrug. “No witchcraft, though I’m flattered you think so. You simply lost the game.”

“I. Don’t. Lose.”

“You just did.” You pat his shoulder. “There, there.”

He rips away, so fast that you almost fall. “Get the fuck away from me.”

“Gladly.” With a snap of your fingers, you’re squeaky clean and clothed once more. Azriel’s clothes return, too. “And I’ll do so with my pretty head still on my shoulders—

“Get out.”

“Because I won the game—”

“Get. Out.”

“A bargain’s a bargain, after all—”

“I will not tell you again.” His hand grabs the back of your neck, hard enough to bruise, and he marches you to the door, yanking it open. “Out.”

You’re thrown into a dim-lit hallway, your body colliding with a cold brick wall. You throw Azriel a smile over your shoulder, despite your teeth singing at the impact.

“Try not to wank over me too much!” You call, as he slams the door shut behind him. “See you around!”

It’s only once you’ve winnowed back to your own court, and you’re bathing the day from your skin, that you notice the small black band inked into your upper arm. You scrub at it until it’s red raw. It doesn’t budge.

The mark of a bargain. But you had always believed that the tattoos of bargains disappeared once the terms were fulfilled…

But if I win, and I walk out of here? Some other time, Azriel, you can fuck me…

It had all been bravado. And yet…it had unwittingly been woven into the bargain.

Some other time, Azriel, you can fuck me.

That’s the only way you’re getting that mark off your skin.

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bruisedboys · 10 months

Note

❛ here, give this a try and tell me what you think. ❜ may i request baker reader who teases miguel by giving him a sweet kiss after trying what they made :)

thank you baby for the ask! I had heaps of fun writing this :) also I cheated and changed the dialogue a little bit oops

miguel o’hara x fem!reader, fluff, spoiler free!!! (also not proofread very well)

Miguel’s not an overly affectionate guy. He likes you, sure, but he keeps the physical affection to a minimum — he kisses you and touches you minimally when there are others around. He’ll hug you if you ask for it, he’ll hold your hand too, but only when it’s just the two of you alone. It’s not that he doesn’t like you, because he does, a lot, it’s just not his thing. Neither of you mind.

When it comes to your affections, however, Miguel is practically bombarded with them every waking second. And he says this in a very affectionate way, mind you. You’re always telling him he looks handsome. Always touching his chest or his arm, putting your hand in his hair (when he’s low enough that you can reach it). You’re not afraid of letting him know just how much you like him. It makes him weak in the knees, if he’s being honest.

You appear in Miguel’s lab slash office with the air of someone who’s excited and can barely hold it in. You’re bouncing on your feet and you’ve got your hands behind your back, hiding something.

“Hi, handsome,” you say, a happy lilt in your voice as you skip towards him.

Miguel bites back a smile. If he smiles, you’ll tease him for it, for sure. He tries not to sound too lovelorn when he says, “Hi,” back.

It doesn’t work. It’s probably the sappiest he’s ever sounded saying one single word. It’s hardly his fault. You’ve caught him at a bad time — he’d just been thinking about you and then you’d appeared. Very inconsiderate of you.

You stop a little way’s away from him and then make a show of pushing whatever you’ve got behind your back further out of sight. Miguel raises a brow.

“What are you doing here?” He asks.

You roll your eyes. “Am I not allowed to visit my boyfriend at work?”

The way you say ‘boyfriend’ makes Miguel’s heart feel funny. You’ve only just started calling each other boyfriend and girlfriend. Before that it was coworkers, then acquaintances. then friends, then friends who kiss. Now he’s your boyfriend. It’s a new feeling. Not bad, just new.

“You’re allowed,” he says. “Of course you are.”

You beam then. It makes you look even prettier than you already are when you’re neutral-faced, your cheeks appled and plump, your eyes all crinkled at the corners. Happy you is his favourite you.

“Good,” you say. “‘Cos I brought you something.”

You take another step forwards and finally pull out the thing you’re hiding behind your back. It’s a Tupperware container with a blue lid. It’s decidedly ordinary, in Miguel’s totally unordinary work place. You step closer still and curl your fingers around the lid, pulling it up gently to reveal its contents.

Inside are a dozen or so chocolate chip cookies. Miguel looks at them, and then looks at you. You’re smiling shyly.

“I made them,” you explain, a shyness to your words that Miguel thinks is awfully adorable. “Thought you might be hungry.”

Miguel gets a very clear picture in his head of you in the kitchen, scooping cookie dough onto a tray, and thinks that maybe next time he’ll have to be there when you bake so he can kiss you stupid.

“Here,” you say , reaching for a cookie and breaking it in half. “Try this and tell me what you think.”

You hold out the cookie half to Miguel and he’d be an asshole if he said no to that. Plus, he can smell the sugar and the butter, and you’re right, he is hungry.

“Thank you,” he says, taking the cookie from your, his fingers brushing the back of your hand. You’ve got unbelievably nice hands. He thinks about it as he takes a bite of the cookie. Then he thinks about how good the cookie tastes. It’s caramel-y like you put a lot of butter in it, but he can taste salt too, and the chocolate is just dark enough that it’s not too sweet but still totally delicious.

“Good?” You ask, looking up at him hopefully.

Miguel swallows, then takes another bite pointedly. You giggle.

“It’s good?” You say excitedly. “I didn’t know if you liked dark chocolate, but it was all I could find.”

Miguel shakes his head. “It’s good,” he says. “Really good.”

You beam, looking like you can’t contain your glee. “Really? You like it?”

Miguel smiles at you. He’s feeling very fond right about now. And there’s no one around, so he reaches for your face and cups your cheek in his big hand. He stands over you and smiles in a way that Peter B. would definitely make fun of.

“Thank you,” he says, taking a step closer to you. “You don’t have to be so nice to me all the time, you know. Have you tried one?”

You shake your head. You’re decidedly silent, like you’re thinking about something but not saying what it is. You shuffle closer to him, the Tupperware container squished between your bodies.

“Lean down, would you, handsome?” You ask, a playful undertone to your soft request.

Miguel obliges. He’s pretty sure he knows where this is going. He leans down to a point where he knows you can reach and waits.

You look up at him for a moment. Then you push yourself onto your toes and kiss him, your hand pushing up against his chest to anchor yourself. Miguel’s hand latches onto your waist, fingers curling, subconsciously pulling you in. It’s a sweet kiss and Miguel wishes it would go on longer but you’re pulling away after only a few moments, smiling like a fool.

“What?” He asks, and your smile has caught on his lips, too.

“You taste good,” you say, giggling. “I think I did a pretty good job with the cookies.”

Miguel grins. “Really?” He drawls in a low voice, his tone borderline teasing, and your giggling subsides as he inches his face closer to yours. “Want another taste?”

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l4long-winded · 4 months

Text

o.s. the phone call regarding the onions

summary: richie won't stop calling and despite how busy carmen is, he picks up the phone. he didn't know richie would take so long to tell him about his trip to the farmer's market, let alone how impatient you would be in his lap (carmen berzatto x afab!reader)

reflection: i wrote this last night and edited it this afternoon. i find i have a hard time writing dialogue because i always want it to flow with my other descriptions. it's tricky for me, so this was an interesting challenge for myself. indulgent? yes. but intriguing nonetheless. as always, enjoy, and feedback is always appreciated!

warnings: cursing, kissing, phone call during sex, riding, religious allusions, more cursing, pussydrunk!carmen (the best kind), longwinded descriptions, slander of the elderly, cynicism, filth, secret girlfriend!reader, humorous dialogue, richie being richie, set before or during season 1 ig, double entendre ending, very slight dirty talk, overuse of the word "cousin" (please let me know if there are other warnings i need to add)

word count: 2,101

“Are you even listening to me, Cousin?” Richie’s voice irritates Carmen’s eardrum drastically more than it usually does, and that’s saying something considering how his tone and words always sift right under the flesh of Carmen’s forearms to scrape against his bones. He should really tell Richie to shut the fuck up, to get to the godforsaken point of this overdrawn story about his trip to the grocers, but Carmen can’t find the speech in him to do so. As a defensive and sharp individual, Carmen seldom runs into the issue of not being able to come back with a witty remark of his own speckled in a seasoning of honesty, but his brain’s already having difficulty concentrating on his shallow breathing. If he loses focus on that particular aspect, he would never hear the end of it. Richie’s too much of a pain in the ass to hang up on, in fact, he’s part of the reason Carmen’s in this predicament.

Richie just had to keep on calling over and over and over and over again. Carmen’s phone buzzed and buzzed and buzzed and the motherfucker on the other end would not take the fucking hint. Carmen recalls catching the flustered, frustrated, and deprived expression on your features as you looked at him, disappointment in your blown pupils because you knew you had to climb off his lap in the middle of your shared fun. Carmen assured you that it wouldn’t take long, to remain where you were because he couldn’t bear to depart from your heat for a single second in this state of mind, the state of nothingness possessed by desire. He’s confronted that compelling phenomenon too often with you and it’s absolutely everything for him. Richie’s call, Carmen surmised and explained to you during the fifth ring, would only take three minutes, five at the most.

Carmen forgets how bad at math he is until it smacks him upside the face and attempts to ruin his day. Richie’s been yapping on the line for about… how long has it been? Carmen stares up at the ceiling, phone pressed to his ear, pink lips parting as your tongue and teeth glissade down his neck. He can feel his body’s primal need to roll his eyes far into the back of his head, but he somehow sustains his half lidded gaze so he can raise his phone away from his ear to check the call’s duration.

14:53. 14:54. 14:55.

Seriously? Fifteen minutes of this bullshit? Carmen’s close to tossing his phone across the room so he can fuck you properly against his bedroom door, but he knows Richie. Richie would bolt on over here to tell Carmen his story in person, stomp away on Carmen’s remnants of alone time with you before he’s back to busting his ass in the kitchen. Carmen can’t have that. A fucking crowbar couldn’t pry you off his cock, and he’s sighing out shakily, pushing the mic away from his mouth far off to the side of the couch and into the cushion so he can release the tendril of fucked out noise you’re igniting in his stomach. Its smoke is climbing up and up, swirling around his lungs, collapsing into purrs and grunts of pleasure since he can’t be any louder than that. You haven’t made his mistake easy on him, fluttering your walls around him, arching as you rise and fall, adding in your lips and dutiful tongue into the sum of his impending eruption. He notices the twinkle atop the slim rings of your irises, how in awe and turned on you are from hearing those little noises he can’t will himself to wrangle down.

Do you like that?

He mouths.

Yes,

you nod your head.

For a moment, resolve slips. Carmen’s other hand maneuvers from gripping the throw pillow on his couch to gripping your thigh, sliding slightly down where he sits so he can roll his hips up into you. He revels in the gasp you inhale, your hands steadying yourself by the use of his shoulders. A ghost of a smile forms on his lips catching your pout and he’s about to inform you to behave when his phone speaks from under the cushion, still in Carmen’s other hand as he was trying to metaphorically and literally smother Richie, but the bastard’s gumption defeats Carmen’s efforts. He tightens his top and bottom lip together as he snatches the phone in agitation from under the cushion to lift it back to his ear.

“Carmy? Carmy? I’m fucking talking to you, Carmy,” Richie grits out, the bass in his voice scratching an unpleasant portion of Carmen’s ear. Carmen shuts his eyes, instructing himself soundlessly to breathe in through his nose and out through his mouth… the same mouth you kiss, your hands cupping his cheeks, tongue shyly petting his. He should put a stop to it. He’s powerless when you kiss him, it’s why he avoided doing so this entire phone call with Richie. He knew he couldn’t stop you, the hand once at your thigh palming up to your ass, his middle finger slipping under the fabric of your lacy panties that you still had on. It rests there, like it’s part of the ensemble (or lack of), twitching and clutching as the lace hugs him and tethers his digit to you.

“Hey, bozo, are you going to answer me or not?” Richie snarls, and Carmen almost tells him to fuck off, but you’re the one who takes mercy on him. Your mouth slides back down, lapping over a sensitive vein in his neck. Carmen finds himself falling back into the couch, licking his dry lips, a desire in him present to curse his friend out.

“I hear you, Richie, I fucking hear you,” Carmen blurts suddenly. He’s got a breathy rasp to him due to the sex, crimson in the face, yelling almost in the same fashion he does at work. You hide your amused grin under your hair as you tenderly kiss his jaw, picking up the speed of your hips. Before, your movements were gentle and small. But now, you have intention as you fuck yourself on Carmen’s cock, sucking spots on his skin to conceal your moans away. The worst part is that even though Carmen can barely hear them, he can feel the hum of each one vibrating against his flesh. And it feels like he knows you sound. How does someone begin to describe that? The walls of a cathedral must know exactly what he’s experiencing, angelic hums reverberating through their surfaces, etching sound waves into crevices and making them whole. That’s it. He feels whole. Complete. It’s almost as good as when he swallows those moans into his mouth and feels them alive in his throat.

“Yeah? Yeah? Then what the fuck did I say, huh?”

Shit… yeah, what the fuck did he say? Carmen’s horrid at multitasking outside his craft and he’s especially inept at maintaining his control and composure when he’s watching his secret girlfriend impale herself repeatedly on his throbbing length. He closes his eyes again to subtract sight’s distraction, middle finger sweeping back and forth so that your lace can rub his knuckle and jog along his memory. Oddly enough, it helps him collect the thoughts you’re so keen on dissipating with those gorgeous, enticing hips of yours.

“You said… you went to the farmer’s market,” Carmen begins, gulping heavily as you clench. “You went to… uh,” Carmen tilts his phone away from his mouth, biting hard on his index finger to refrain from hissing out. He glares at you, you’re being unfair, and the mischief is written all over your gaze despite the innocent smile you attempt to give him. He’s definitely going to pay this back. He’s not a saint, he holds grudges, and he’s harboring one against you for almost causing him to moan into his phone.

“Carmy,” Richie disrupts Carmen’s plans for vengeance and fortunately, Carmen instantly recalls what they were talking about like an epiphany, no thanks to you.

“You went to pick up the onions!” Carmen rushes, his syllables spilling over one another. He hates how he sounds. It’s different from his regular speaking voice and if they weren’t dealing with shitty cell service, Richie probably would’ve noticed.

“Then, what? I’ve been talking for almost twenty minutes,” oh, Carmen fucking knows, “and that’s all you’ve gotten from that?”

“Richie,” Carmen says as sternly as he can as your tightness sinks to his base. He sucks onto his upper row of teeth, pulsing increasing, lighting up with heat inside of your delectable walls. This is your fault, too. You and your enveloping warmth. You and your pretty face and your pretty cunt and your persistent needs, your pliant open legs as you ride him and make him drunk without a smidgen of alcohol around. He might as well have bathed himself in scotch, the effects most likely easier to handle than the vise you’ve got on his mind, body, and cock. “Did you, or did you not get the fucking onions?”

Richie scoffs, “Ugggghhhhhhh,” into Carmen’s ear. Annoyed by it, Carmen grips his phone tighter as he pushes it away from his head for as long as Richie does it. He shakes his hair out of his eyes as he retracts the phone back to its original position, his stare greedily finding where his cock disappears and reappears with more and more of that wonderful slick that glides him in deeper and deeper. “That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you! The fucking old broad from the lot gave me that dirty ass look as she took all of the product right in front of me. What the fuck is some old chick with a bad hip going to do with sixteen onions, Carmy? She had her stumbling grandson with his little toddler hands dropping the motherfuckers on the floor right in front of me because he couldn’t carry them all. Like, are you kidding me? Are you cooking French Onion soup for the whole neighborhood? For the next winter?”

“Richie,” Carmen grinds out as you grind down on him. His teeth clatter as he scrapes them together. “Richie… Richie…” He can’t gain Richie’s attention back as he rants in Carmen’s ear, as you swivel your hips and whine at the stretch. Carmen’s holding himself back, painfully hard from the experience you’re condoning.

“Next time I see her, it’s on. Watch what fucking soup she can make when I buy the whole stock and flip her the bird,” Richie continues, the sound of a trunk being harshly slammed on the other end. But Carmen’s had enough. He can’t take it anymore. He feels feral, he’s going to burst any second and he refuses to do so with Richie still on the line.

“Cousin, Cousin, Cousin, Cousin,” Carmen parrots, rolling his eyes as he increases his volume with each repetition.

On the other side, Richie talks over him. “She’s driving some ugly ass Pontiac, no wonder she’s bitter.”

“Cousin, Cousin, listen to me.”

“Do you think they’ll notice me if I take a stab at one of her tires?”

“Richie!”

“Nah, you’re right, it looks like there’s a bunch of fucking narcs around here.”

“Motherfucker, stop talking,” Carmen spits and that’s when Richie shouts back, his own irritation building because that entire time, he could hear Carmen babbling on and on. Apparently no one knows how to listen to a fucking story anymore.

“What? What, Carmy?” Richie responds with a yell. He must be inside of his car because Carmen heard a crash right after. Carmen pinches the bridge of his nose having finally snaked his other hand away from your underwear.

“So, you’re telling me… you don’t have the onions?” Carmen asks.

Richie sighs. The reason he felt the need to orate what happened is because of Carmen’s temper regarding the restaurant. He had one task today and he failed it because of some greedy elderly woman. Though, he understands how Carmen’s busy. Through this phone call, Richie hasn’t been able to hold his Cousin’s focus for very long. He doesn’t think there was any interval longer than three minutes where he had it all to himself.

“No, I… I don’t ha—”

The line goes dead. Richie looks down at his phone, fully tempted to call Carmen one more time to explain himself and make his stubborn, mule-headed friend see his point of view for once. He only doesn’t because he swears Carmen sounded like he was about to explode.

#l4l.writes #carmen berzatto #carmen berzatto x reader #the bear #the bear series #jeremy allen white #richie jerimovich #the phone call regarding the onions #l4l.oneshot

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