#it’s just I would love to see him be part of a server again with people who are as passionate as him | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

katszumi · 2 months

Text

“you know, your eyes kinda resemble a ruby.” you slurred your words. your chin rested in the palm of your hand, elbow digging in the table below you.

bakugou snorted, his eyes never wavering from yours. “what made you think of that shit?”

you lifted your shoulders, quickly dropping them.

“do i need a reason?”

“to be thinking about nonsense? yes.” he answered his own question. his response caused an eye-roll out of you.

you grabbed the small glass in front of you, finishing the shot you set down earlier to save for later.

“that’s your fifth shot of the night.” bakugou intercepted the silence. he sat upright in his chair, his arms folded across his chest.

you gulped the remains of the liquor, swiping your tongue across the bottom of your lip.

“and you’re on your what? like second?” you remarked.

bakugou wasn’t a drinker. everyone knew that. he preferred to be sober, always offering to be the designated driver whenever the group wanted to have a night of fun.

but tonight was his pro-hero debut party. all of his friends and old schoolmates were there, so he figured if he were to drink, tonight was the perfect time.

also, who was he to decline having a drink with a pretty girl?

his eyes glanced at your now wet lips which unfortunately didn’t go unnoticed from you. “two is plenty.”

you leaned forward, reaching your hand towards bakugou’s shirt. your fingers grazed the top button of his shirt. slowly, you unfastened it. “there’s nothing wrong with having a little fun, katsuki.”

due to the sudden proximity, he could smell the alcohol coming from your breath, but he couldn’t bring himself to resist your actions.

you continued to the second button. “take this time to relax.” you raised your hands once more, your fingers now grazing his neck to uncuff the collar of his shirt.

now, you leaned away from him, returning to your previous position. “now you look like a man that’s ready for the night.”

bakugou dropped his shoulders and leaned back in his chair, turning his head sideways. he couldn’t refuse the blush that was coming onto his face nor could he hide it. he knew you were staring right into his soul. he was also aware that you loved to tease him like that.

“unhinged. i swear you are.” was the only thing bakugou could muster.

ever since he’s known you from u.a, you were always that daring girl who was so unpredictable. there was never a dull moment with you.

but that was also what made you so dangerous for him.

a laugh parted your lips. “been called worse.”

“bullshit.” he called it, looking into your eye once again. “like what?”

“irresponsible,” you started count on your fingers.

“i can see it.” bakugou shared his input.

“arrogant,”

he rolled his eyes, “heard my fair share of that one too.”

“impulsive,”

“accurate.”

“provocative.”

bakugou moved his head in a notion like he was deciding between two things. “nah.”

you furrowed your brow, squinting your eyes in confusion. “what is that supposed to mean?”

“provocative sounds like a slutty word.” he simply responded. “i think you know you’re attractive, and you know how to use it to your advantage. not a bad thing at all.”

you paused for a moment, your lips parting from shock. a small grin began to form on your face. “did bakugou katsuki just call me attractive?”

the male scoffed, “don’t act like this is news to you. ‘m sure you heard it plenty times before.” he brushed it off.

“just didn’t think you of all people would willingly say that.”

bakugou chuckled to himself. he raised his finger in the air, indicating for the server assigned to your table to bring him another drink.

“unlike you, not everyone needs five shots of liquor in their system to confess something.” undoubtedly, it was shot taken at her, one that you couldn’t refuse the growing smile on your face.

“oh? since when did you decide to get so bold?”

“someone’s actions tend to rub off on me.”

“they must be foolish.”

once again, bakugou’s ruby eyes lowered to your lips. undeniable. how could his heart ever stand a chance when you treat him this way? did you not understand he loved a challenge?

“yeah, an irresistible fool.”

“please, i’m anything but a fool.”

“don’t flatter yourself; who said i was talking about you?” he opted to lie.

you leaned forward slightly, “with the amount of times you keep staring at my lips, it’s not hard to notice it’s taking everything in you to resist me.” your voice lowered in volume, for his ears to catch only. “therefore, irresistible.”

bakugou took his time to respond, the corner of his mouth quirking up into a smirk. “this must be that arrogant side of yours coming out.”

“one, not necessarily arrogance if it’s true. two, i’m attractive and i know how to use it to my advantage.” you recited his own words.

“this something you do with all your flings?”

you gave him a playful confused look. “do what?” intentionally, your voice had an innocent tone to it.

“drink with them. tease ‘em. nearly undress them. flirt with them in front of an audience?” bakugou could feel his patience slipping. like a sand hourglass, only a few grains left at the top waiting to fall to the bottom.

it had to have been from the shots that made him so precariously bold. but he couldn’t walk away. not when he has you in the palm of his hands— maybe even the other way around.

you propped your elbow on the table once more, cupping your own cheek. you gazed at bakugou through your lashes.

“if i had other flings, you think i’d be here with you all night?”

“don’t know. good question actually.” purposely, he played stupid.

you paused. “there are no others,” you knew that was the answer he was searching for. luckily for him, you didn’t mind giving it to him. “just you.”

bakugou nodded slowly, basking in the information. he could feel his heart flutter from the confession, a huge wave of relief washing over him.

“good. was startin’ to think you were actually considering the guy over at the bar.” of course, bakugou plays it off as a joke. even with the small liquor in his system, it was still difficult for him to admit his true feelings.

but you were fine with it. because even with the guard he pretends to have up, you can feel even with the slightest touch how much he cares for you. bakugou may be loud, cheeky, maybe a bit conceited, but he wasn’t a good liar. you always saw through his facade no matter what lies he decided to spew.

you scoff. “oh, shut up.” you fight a smile. “the guy at the bar doesn’t have the ruby eyes i like so much.”

“here you go with this stupid shit.”

i ’d do anything to flirt with katsuki late at night, both of us tipsy. god please im beggin

2K notes · View notes

ramons-elevator · 10 months

Text

*SLAMS HANDS ON DESK*

FUCKING PHILS POV

Everything about his POV was bone chilling holy shit. Also fucking shoutout to the admins for picking Chayanne and Tallulah bc that was a really smart move.

For some context for those who arent Philza watchers:

Tallulah and Chayanne obey Phil. Yes they can be divas sometimes and be dumb and silly, but they arent like their siblings like Dapper and Richas who will just be dramatic and do dumb and dangerous stuff when their parents dont feel 100% okay with it. They will throw a fit but still be respectful of Phil’s word.

Phil said multiple times to them, especially Tallulah, to not go to the dinner no matter what. That as soon as it hits 2pm PST, they get tucked into bed and they can wake up after if they want. Chay and Lullah both agreed bc they both fear dying. Tallulah wants to see her dad and Chayanne knows how hard his dad works to make sure they are safe.

Let me fucking tell you how creepy it was seeing Tallulah walk into the dinner.

Phil immediately questioned her and was like “what the fuck you doing? We both agreed you would stay in bed.” and when ‘Tallulah’ just stared at him and shook her maracas, you could feel the air still.

Personally, it felt like a bucket of ice water got dumped on me. Phil literally froze. Because thats not fucking Tallulah. Tallulah is calculated, gentle, and slow moving. The ‘Tallulah’ at the dinner was shaking her maracas without a care in the world, running around. Also Tallulah will talk to Phil and they check in on each other. The ‘Tallulah’ at the dinner didnt put down a sign once.

Then as Phil was realizing that Tallulah wasn’t Tallulah, then ‘Chayanne’ comes in. At this point Phil realized that both ‘Tallulah’ and ‘Chayanne’ dont have cracks. Phil straight up looks at ‘Chayanne’ and says “You are fake, you arent my son.” Also same thing with Tallulah, Chayanne and Phil check in with each other. They are a well oiled machine. Phil knows Chayanne like the back of his hand and vise versa.

To be fair, Chayanne isnt an egg of many words. He likes action and just nods/shakes of his head when talking. If need be he will place a sign down, but he doesnt talk as much as Tallulah. So it isnt hard to impersonate him.

But the second, ‘Chayanne’ started punching Phil was again bone chilling. Chayanne rarely hits Phil, maybe once or twice from the top of my head. Again, Chay and Lulah are very respectful of Phil. If they need his attention, they do other ways. They dont hit.

And thats when Phil let Fit know that something was wrong. Those werent his kids. That they are fakes. Around that time, Phil runs home and sees that his actual kids are sleeping. He takes a photo, runs back, and fucking shows ‘Chayanne’. Phil lets the fakes know that he knows and he doesnt give a shit.

At some point, Phil and Fit talk again and ‘Chayanne’ runs up and tries to take the photo from Phil. Phil basically said fuck off and went back to his seat.

The part I find so fucking eerie was that Fit and ‘Chayanne’ had a lil talk. ‘Chayanne’ put down a sign that said something along the lines of “My dad doesnt love me anymore”.

That sign literally made me start to freak out because thats the fucking last thing the real Chayanne thinks. The real Chayanne knows that his dad loves him to death. That Phil would burn this server to the ground if anything bad happened to Chayanne. Chayanne knows that Phil does everything in his power to keep his son alive. He knows how much Phil worries about him and Tallulah (both the characters and the admins).

Going back to what I said at the start, the admins were so fucking smart for picking Chayanne and Tallulah to be the ‘Code eggs’.

People outside of Phil, Fit, Bad, and maybe Forever/Cellbit dont really spend time with Chayanne and Tallulah. Yes, other people do care after them and know them, but they really dont know their mannerisms and quirks. They dont know that Tallulah only shakes her Maracas when she is very excited or have something to say. They dont know that, while Chayanne can be hyper, he usually is very obedient and stays close to Tallulah when he can.

So putting them in a party where the attention isnt on them 100% time is so smart. They can run around and people dont think about it. They just see two eggs running around and having fun. They dont know how wrong it is to see them like that.

Then when the ‘Code eggs’ made themselves known, Phil got kicked. Again very smart from the admins because no one wanted to kill ‘Chayanne’ and ‘Tallulah’ even though they were obviously Codes. Even Fit, who Phil told over and over again that those arent his kids, hit the Codes once or twice but stopped because he didnt wanna take that risk. No one wanted to take the chance of hurting an egg. It gave the ‘Code eggs’ time to kill Charlie and try to kill others.

But the second Phil joins back, he is screaming that those arent his kids and to kill them. That they were impostors. Even then, they let Phil kill the Code eggs.

Then when Code Tallulah died, everyone stepped back and let Phil 1v1 Code Chayanne.

Im so impressed with the admins and the people who played the fake Chayanne and Tallulah. They did such a good job of putting a spear of ice through my heart. 100/10 Bravo

#qsmp #qsmp eggs #qsmp chayanne #qsmp tallulah #qsmp philza #philza

3K notes · View notes

bigguyenthusiast · 1 month

Text

Ass or tits post but they barely answer the question

NSFW text !!!

Btw if yawll have any headcannon ideas do send them in pls !!! Smooches !!

John price

this is absurd, to think you would ask him such a disrespectful question, I mean if you weren’t dating this is a huge HR violation, plus he won’t just pick like you’re some object he gets to use to his pleasure (thighs and fupas)

Simon Riley

Ass…. No wait he likes tits

Actually he likes ass… but maybe more so the thighs… nah nah it’s just ass … actually here, go wear these outfits and come back to me, I need to make my mind up for sure, you know, for research purposes.

John McTavish

Couldn’t choose, had to go run a few laps to clear his brain

Came back and just held your shoulders and said

“Yes”

You’d be confused and ask him the question again and he’d just look at you with sad eyes and whimper out

“Please don’t make me chose”

Kyle Garrick

Tits, absolutely tits, this man has a thing for milfs, my darlings with big or small tits, if he sees you in a blouse or a tank top that shows your cleavage, he’s running the nearest bathroom to relieve himself.

You had to go undercover on a mission once, having to dress up as a server at a strip club, you needed to have ears on the inside, and he had to save all the footage he was watching… for safety purposes of course, what if he didn’t notice a very illegal bad thing happen to you on his 89th rewatch ?!

Rodolfo parra

Tits, but also into necks, he also loves your back, and the curve of your hips, and how your rolls show when he has you in a weird position, and he loves watching you change or slip into your everyday clothes, how some tights fabrics tug at your pretty plush skin, he loves it when you lay your feet on his lap, silently asking him to rub them for you, watching you stretch, watching you walk, how you interact with others …

Wait sorry what was the question ?

Alejandro Vargas

This whore…. Ass.

He’d slap your ass ever time you’re walking by, if you’re leaning on a counter, on your phone, he would stand behind you and slap your ass bongos, laughing and kissing your temple as you try to smack him.

If he sees you sleeping on your side he will crawl lower and cuddle your ass, it’s just such a nice cushion :(

One time the team all went out for drinks after a successful mission, and you changed into a white tank top, low cut bell bottom jeans and Rudy handed you a cowboy hat as a joke, but all Alejandro could think about is which bathroom is the closest for him to take you.

Also steals your panties after every quickie

Valeria

See….. here’s the thing, Valeria loves one thing, and that thing is seeing you all submissive and ready for her to take, she loves sitting in a meeting with some dealers, her legs spread, you by her feet, hugging onto the lower part of her legs, humping on her dirty boot, your tits pressed against her knee as your clothed pussy rubs in messy motions as you try to get some sort of release, she loves holding a gun to your head, asking you to only make eye contact with her, in a room filled with judging eyes.

She needs everyone to know what’s hers, and what would happen if they even dared to speak of what’s hers.

König

Listen, I see könig as a little weirdo, a lil freaky boy. When he’s infatuated with someone, he won’t be able to find a single flaw in them, seeing your skirt riding up at bit too high that shows your ass that’s covered in opaque stockings, and if there’s a little rip in those stockings, even if the rip is like, down near your ankle, he’s gonna pop a boner.

If you’re a fashion girly that likes to show their body off oh baby he’s buying you anything you want if you just give him a show, tops that barely hide your nipples, about 90% of your tits out on display, one slip and you’ll be flashing him.

Seeing you in his clothes, seeing his hoodie bunched up around around waist as you hold it up a bit, fixing your pants, oh he’s going to jump that hoodie later.

Horangi

Tits, or so he thought, he’s always found your chest gorgeous, what he wouldn’t give to be able to suck on your nipples day and night, that is until you were sparring one time, you had him in a chokehold… with your thoughts pressed against his neck, his head resting on your lap as you look down at him, animalistic fire in them as you grin down at him, all he could think about was how your eyes gazed down on his, how the pressure of your thick thighs pressed against his neck felt like heaven, like the pain in his neck was cured (it wasn’t)

After the sparring match he just had to collect his thoughts, he needed you to be on top of him, preferably with your crotch right on top of his face with your soft sweaty thighs caging him in .

Laswell

This lady……… she’s the hard dom price wishes he was.

She’s so calm and collected on the outside, at her work everyone sees her as this no nonsense lady who refuses to listen to some old fart tell her what she can and can’t do, she’ll always do what’s right

And so when her pretty girl, in a gorgeous dress she got for you, comes to her job, holding a tiny bag filled with her lunch, hair done, makeup looking flawless, and a bright smile that makes her coworkers envy her.

She loves her sweet girl that’s too innocent to notice how promiscuous she looks in that form fitting dress, how her tits press together when she hands her the bag, Kate would simply thank you, kissing you briefly before giving your bum a smack as she tells you to get back home and get ready for her tonight

What? The woman is stressed at work and her girl comes in looking like a goddess in a tight dress, plus it’s not like any of her coworkers blame her.

485 notes · View notes

sootsz · 8 months

Text

in light of recent ominous events with the eggs (namely, theories that they’re hatching, and their even more recent disappearance this morning), i think it’s worth looking at what an insane social experiment of a situation that all the members and admins find themselves in, with us as the overly invested lab coat scientists, so hi welcome to Quackity (Accidentally) Makes Social Experiments 100000% Funnier

when talking about the egg event the focus tends to be on the cc’s and how attached they are, because they’re the ones we can fully see and gauge their emotional responses. it’s already been well established how genuinely invested they all are. but the eggs’ admins have just as much skin in the game as their in-game parents do

The tragedy of the eggs being taken away isn’t necessarily the eggs (characters) dying/leaving. it’s more than that. it’s that, in a way, the admin dies with the character. And the further that the egg event has continued past the point it was meant to end, and past the point of no return, the more true this has become.

richas plays more than the “actual” members. phil admits to seeing chayanne and tallulah as part of the server and genuinely likes who they are as people. dapper, ramon, leo, pomme—they’re all so ingrained in the island that it is impossible to imagine it without them, and to do so would be like removing half of the cc’s themselves. only Worse!

Because it’s so final when the eggs die. so definite. because even if a steamer left, you’ll see them continue in their own capacity as a streamer, but the eggs are just gone. they’re mostly anonymous (richas is again a good example). they’d vanish like they were never there, with no real way to reconnect with them

and it’s all even More high-stakes from the admin’s perspective. from watching early gegg streams, you can see how, even with charlie’s mic off, it doesn’t really feel any different from watching a normal stream?? he’s still there, interacting with his friends, joking around, playing minecraft with them, and that’s what the egg’s admins do almost Every. Single. Day. what!! an indirect comparison would be an internet friend you’ve only messaged and never vc’d with. a more direct comparison (for those who were in the trenches) would be that friend you made when you were 12 and roleplaying on a minecraft creative plots server.

juanaflippa’s admin and tilin’s admin have, on twitter, mentioned how much they miss hanging out with their ‘parents’. bobby’s admin having to say goodbye to jaiden and roier and actually crying. tallulah and chayanne giving music recommendations to phil. leo interacting with foolish in a pretty Normal Friends way (yknow, if you disregard the bedtime stories) with leo teaching him spanish and him teaching her english. they’re ALL more than just characters. they’re people!! what the hell!!!

this is not to say that the admins for the eggs are traumatized, not even a little, or that the egg experiment is in any way morally wrong (on the contrary, I love it! fun roleplay dynamics! acting! emotions repercussions that make me want to study their brains!) though i do hope for the admins sake and all of ours that they can stay as long as possible or else their therapy bills will be crazy

because when it comes down to it, friendship is friendship, whether you met roleplaying their child on a minecraft server or not

enjoy the island :)

1K notes · View notes

lionheartedmusings · 2 months

Text

hi everyone! i talked about my new "dream job" very briefly a few times, but turns out you really shouldn't count your chickens before they hatch. i debated not saying anything multiple times, and frankly perhaps i should've kept quiet, but i refuse to let this situation eat me up and i feel like the community also deserves some transparency on some things that realistically, you'll never get unless people speak up. i want to preface this by stating very, very clearly that everyone that i met in the studio on a personal level is incredibly talented, passionate, and kind. all of them deserve much, much better than the way they get treated. i applied to be a writer for quackity studios / qsmp and got an email back on the 18th of january. i interviewed for the position on the 23rd of january, and entered trial period on the 28th after signing an "nda".

early during trial period, i asked one of my supervisors about payment and was told they weren't responsible for that and didn't know, but would get back to me as soon as they knew which never ended up happening (i do not blame them at all, they’re incredibly busy people). i should've pressed further, but as someone in a very, very sensitive financial situation and someone who loves the qsmp and admires the talent of everyone who poured their heart and soul into the project, i chose to wait and expect the best. i was officially welcomed into the studio on the 10th of february, and while i waited to be contacted regarding a contract or payment, i had to once again ask (even after i was already working) about payment. i was redirected to "the" head admin as it was him who handled payment, and had to wait days for him to log on so i could add him as a discord friend and ask about my salary. during that conversation, which took almost a week from start to finish, i was asked multiple times if i'd worked professionally as a writer or freelancer (to which the answer was no) before finally being offered between 200-250 dollars (which i later found out shakes out to 170€) per month. i had to ask how i was being paid, and of my own accord provide him with my paypal email in hopes of a response as he never made it clear to whom i should send it. i was incredibly lucky compared to so many members of that team, because i did get paid for my work over that month, even if it felt like i had to beg for compensation that had been promised to me before. it was an awful salary, but i was desperate and so excited to be a part of the team that i accepted the conditions. after léa's tweets, the response "jay" posted, and quackity's emergency stream, i heard once from a supervisor that things were on hold but we'd be informed of any changes. to this day, there has not been any communication either publicly on the discord server or privately, even though i asked a supervisor privately for any possible updates on anything. there's been absolute radio silence. i want to add that i do not in any way blame my supervisors for any of their lack of communication, as they've been nothing but kind and caring towards me and i imagine they'd say something if they could. i have nothing but the utmost respect for them. a few days ago (and i apologize for not being precise with the date but i wasn't checking these things closely as i had no reason to) i noticed that my access to just about everything on the server apart from the announcement channel had been removed, and the only role i retained was the main "writer" one. upon checking, the other writers on the team still retain all of their previous roles. for some reason i do not know nor understand, my access got removed without any sort of word, communication, dm, anything. anything i've ever learnt about this situation, i learnt in the middle of the night live on twitch.tv while i waited to see if i still had a job or not. the only reason i can find for my access being removed and not the other writers is the fact that i'm friends with pomme's admin. i do not know if that is why, it's merely my own speculation, but it's the only link i can see that would lead to that decision. i hope i'm wrong, but hope hasn't gotten me very far in this yet. yesterday, i quit.

i only applied in the first place because i love the qsmp. i love this community, i love this project, and i genuinely and wholeheartedly wanted to help build it as well as be able to in some way support myself while being creative. i'm not making this post because i hate quackity and want to see anything burn — i'm just exhausted, and stressed, and losing sleep over a business that ultimately does not care for the people that made it a reality. i could not in good conscience not say something, because while i was very lucky that my time there was short and while i made friends there that i believe i will take with me for the rest of my life, i've never been someone who can sit and watch others be mistreated so blatantly and just ignore it. i honestly and sincerely hope that moving forward, things change, but after what i've seen i have very little hope left in me. this isn't just about the exploitation of people, or just about not providing people with payment for their work — it's about treating other human beings who are killing themselves and working themselves to the bone with the very minimum of care and respect. it's about people who made the qsmp what it is being discarded and disrespected constantly, and who live in fear and anxiety. these people deserve to be treated well, and that lack of respect hasn't changed regardless of any "announcements" made. my heart and full and complete support goes out to everyone who is dealing with these very unfortunate circumstances and treatment (my dms are always open if you ever want to reach out), to léa for being so incredibly brave and putting herself in the line of fire for the tens of people still in the studio, to all the actors and the twitter teams for the absolute silence they've received as payment for their hard work over almost a year, and to pomme's admin who despite what's going around on twitter has not received any contact from anyone in the studio yet, and deserves so so much better.

it’s my most sincere hope that qsmp thrives and conditions change, because everyone there deserves that. everyone there deserves to be treated like gold because they’re some of the best people i’ve ever met. i wish it didn’t feel like we have to put ourselves in the line of fire publicly for any sort of response because clearly staying silent hasn’t helped anything.

please, support the people who spoke out and support the people still in the project. they're the ones who made the qsmp the qsmp. they're the ones you should be standing with first and foremost.

#qsmp #qadmins #i'm so sorry guys but i personally don't feel comfortable tagging this with like discourse or neg #but <3 i will not be offended / upset if you use those tags if you talk about this #aaaaaaaaa

631 notes · View notes

fizzyorange-v2 · 1 year

Text

just talking to my friend in dms about how at first when q!charlie started calming down from his rampage i was kinda upset cause i WANTED a full villain arc i wanted blood and rage and a massacre but then I kept watching and realised how much of a fucking idiot I was to underestimate charlie slimecicle’s rp skills like that. because charlie isn’t just playing a character hell bent on righteous revenge for his daughter, he’s playing a character actually grieving that daughter.

it’s obvious now that i think about it that the initial revenge plot to kill all the eggs and his repeated self affirmations that juanaflippa isn’t gone and that it can all just be reset are clearly just him entering the denial and anger stages. and that later scenes after the rest of the server finally backed him into a corner and calmed him down and he had that heart wrenching scene looking at juanaflippa’s photo, asking for a literal trial for her life and soul back and then that whooooole bar scene, that he has then entered the bargaining and depression stages.

Because the truth is, q!charlie doesn’t actually want to kill anyone (except Mariana lolll), he especially doesn’t want to kill any of the eggs! All he wanted was to be a good dad. And I think that that’s part of the reason he as a character failed so hard to actually tangibly hurt anyone during this stream. He was a mess, crying screaming yelling clawing trying to do something, anything to save his daughter. Anything to fix it all. That scene of him failing to break into Phil’s house haunts me.

But I think there’s something especially tragic that before Juanaflippa, q!charlie probably was the kind of character to hurt others without caring, he seemed to have no idea about empathy or healthy relationships before her thats for sure. He’s literally already killed TWO eggs before this, so causally and with such ease. But his love for his daughter improved him, and it changed him, and it made him just enough of a better person that when that daughter was taken from him, suddenly even to save her he can’t fucking do it anymore.

I also really appreciate how everyone else on the server reacted to him too. They didn’t at all treat him like some big bad scary villain like I originally would I’ve expected. Sure they were understandably wary and protective, but every single one of them weren’t so much angry at him as… WORRIED for him. And it really helped put it in perspective that this isn’t some guy going on a hashtag villain arc, but immersed me in oh fuck. This is a guy that just lost his daughter. And all his friends and fellow parents know. And they aren’t scared of him, they’re concerned for him. They aren’t full of fear… but pity. Because they know. They know what he’s just lost. And they understand. And they’re trying to be there for him.

And Charlie despite all the grand speeches and diabolical plots and not so carefully placed land mines… doesn’t really care how he gets Juanaflippa back, as long as she’s with him again.

Just man,,,, the way Charlie performed this character’s grief is so fucking stellar and SO fucking excruciating. The part that genuinely broke me was in that photo scene when he said: “i'm sorry flippa... i thought i could change something- i thought i could undo it, thought i could make it right... now i see that there's no way this can be made right...” which already fucking ow ow OW and clearly him finally exiting denial/anger straight into depression but then he whispers THIS FUCKING BIT: “it wasnt even on purpose… i know that... it doesnt make it better… what do i do juanaflippa?” LIKE FUCK!!!! FUCK!!!! OKAY!!!!!

Anyway massive props to everyone for the rp today but ESPECIALLY charlie for this agonisingly accurate and visceral depiction of grief that I somehow was NOT expecting. I thought we were going to get villain arc egg massacre angst and instead we got father mourning his daughter trying futilely to do anything to bring her back angst. I’m never fucking recovering from this one.

#qsmp #q!charlie #q!slimecicle #qsmp slimecicle #qsmp analysis #fizz character thoughts #juanaflippa #el mariana #qsmp spoilers

2K notes · View notes

its-jaytothemee · 6 days

Text

A Blanket of Bear

Read on AO3

Word count: 1,098 one shot

Tags: Halsin x reader, fluff, fluff without plot, ear nibbles, soft Halsin

Summary: Halsin refuses to take a break since the two of you returned to Thaniel's Realm. Luckily for him, you always know what he wants without him needing to ask.

A/N: Just some more Halsin fluff that nobody asked for but you all definitely need. A quick one shot from a prompt in a discord server. Enjoy some tooth-rotting marshmallow fluff and ear nibbles.

Bedtime must have been an ordeal tonight.

You sit in your bed, book in hand, waiting for Halsin to finish his nightly rounds with the children. Normally, you’d be there helping but he insisted you get the evening off. The past week or so had been a long one. Two of the old buildings in Reithwin were crumbling beyond repair, causing a significant delay in rebuilding. On top of that, a couple of the children dared each other to eat spoiled mushrooms, causing a fever to spread through many of them. Then today, you found out that the new berry patch you had started a few weeks ago had been infected with a blight and had to be burned away.

You’d really hoped to have fresh berries to top the honey cake you planned to make for Halsin’s birthday.

Over the sound of the fire crackling in front of you, you hear the soft clack of your cottage’s door opening and closing. The familiar sound of his footsteps causes you to mark the page you were reading before setting it to the side. Not a moment later, Halsin is standing in the doorway.

“My heart.” He has a tired smile on his face, his eyes look heavy, and his shoulders are drooping.

“What is it, love?” You hold your hand out, inviting him closer.

“Just the fatigue of an old druid trying to keep up with eighty-some children.” He takes a deep breath before coming to sit on the edge of the bed.

"Then you should have let me help you.” You reach out and gently stroke his back. “You know, I could always give you an evening off as well. I’d say you more than deserve it.”

“Oh no, that’s not necessary. Besides, I shudder to think what chaos the children will cause should I fail to deliver a bedtime story.” His affectionate chuckle makes you feel warm from head to toe. He would never admit it, but he was tired. As much as he adored the children in their care and how much he believed in their cause of building this community, he just wouldn’t admit that the past months had also exhausted him to the bone.

“I can tell stories! I’ve told many, you may remember.” You cross your arms, a playful scowl clouding your face.

“Yes, usually with my help if I’m not mistaken.” He smiles that perfect smile at you, the one that makes your heart flutter, and your cheeks redden.

“Well, you do have the best voices for the monsters, my love.”

He leans over and presses his forehead to yours before placing a light kiss on your lips.

“You’re so sweet to worry about me, my heart. But this task was one I decided for myself, for us. I owe it to you and everyone else here to see it through.”

“Halsin,” you reach up to tuck a runaway hair behind his ear, “you don’t have to be everything for everyone every second of the day. You’ve spent more than enough time feeling responsible for others. Let someone take care of you for once.”

“Well, that’s what I have you for, is it not? The only person in a century to give me the chance to sit and enjoy nature once again.” He kisses the back of your hand before staring back into your eyes. Those gorgeous, hazel eyes have seen every part of you, loved every part of you.

“Of course.” You smile back at him, knowing exactly what he wants right now, although he’s never willing to ask it of you.

You scoot back in the bed to lean against the headboard, a pillow propped behind your back for comfort. A knowing grin tugs at his lips from the movement. You hold your arms out, inviting him to come lay against you. He turns his back to you, snuggling himself between your legs, laying his head on your chest.

You wrap your arms around his shoulders, letting your hands rest on his chest. He takes a few deep breaths as he relaxes into your embrace. With every stroke of your hand across his torso, he melts further into you. You slowly trace your fingers around his shoulders, the lines and grooves memorized from your nights together. He mirrors the light touches on your thighs, sending shivers throughout your body.

Halsin nestles himself further in between your legs, his warm body a comforting weight pinning you down. You know that if you can get him to relax just a little further, he’ll easily drift into a trance in your arms.

You continue your gentle massaging, easing the tension in his muscled shoulders and earning you soft, content sighs. When you run your hands through his hair he leans further into your touch.

“My heart?” He asks with the tired tone of a child fighting a nap.

“Yes, my bear?”

“Would you…” He trails off, still not willing to ask for anything for himself. You smile to yourself, thankful that you know what he wants without him needing to ask.

You pull him closer to you, once again wrapping your arms around his broad shoulders. Despite his size, he always feels so much smaller when you hold him like this. Like he shrinks himself down to fit into your embrace better. You lean forward a little so you can press a kiss into the skin where his hair meets his neck, just behind his ear. Slowly, you move your lips to his ear, grazing them up and down the edge, every now and then pausing to nip in the spots he liked – the pointed tip, the lobe. Your gentle nibbles cause little bumps to rise up all over his skin. You let your lips wander up and down his neck before coming back to his ears, those perfect kissable ears. Alternating between kissing and nipping his earlobes and nuzzling your face into his hair and neck, you hear his breathing slow down and you notice his eyelids have stopped fluttering.

“I love you, Halsin.” You lean forward just a little more to whisper the words to him.

A small murmur escapes his lips, cutting through his trance to make sure you know he feels the same. “I love you, my heart.”

He may not be willing to take an evening off yet, but you can sleep soundly next to him knowing how relaxed he is in your arms. Knowing that at least for tonight, he’ll rest.

And how lucky for you to fall asleep with your loving bear as a blanket.

#I didn't edit this much #just typed out an idea and then made a dentist appointment for the tooth rotting sweetness #bg3 #bg3 fanfiction #halsin x reader #halsin silverbough #halsin fluff #bg3 halsin #halsin fanfic #I don't usually do reader fics so hopefully the tense in this sounds right

226 notes · View notes

jellieland · 1 year

Text

A week or two after the games, Grian will usually check in with the victor.

It's a habit that's probably more for his own benefit than anyone else's. But it is, he thinks, a good habit nonetheless.

After all, as fun as it all is, things can get a bit... intense, towards the end, and it's good for his peace of mind to make sure the last one standing is ok with how things shook out.

Nothing much has ever really come of it before; they're all pretty resilient. He doubts this time’ll be different. Except- well.

Something about it all itches at the back of his mind, and he hasn’t been able to work out why. There was the actual ending, of course, but also Grian may have been whispering in Martyn's ear about how boring that final showdown was turning out to be, and how narratively satisfying it would be if he just betrayed the other two and got it over with, so.

If nothing else, it feels like he's got no reason to break with tradition.

There's just one more concern.

Martyn seems to have made it almost impossible to contact him.

It's not... unheard of, for players to keep to themselves most of the time, especially when it comes to those they don’t share a server with. It seems a little uncharacteristic of Martyn, but the last time Grian saw him outside the games was before they even started, so maybe he does things differently these days.

There are certainly a great many reasons why that could be the case, most of which are perfectly sensible.

But Grian's never been able to resist picking at a puzzle put in front of him, whether the puzzle likes it or not, so he is going to talk to Martyn. And he can just see what happens, and worry about any consequences if and when they appear.

Luckily, he already has a way to do just that.

He doesn't usually need to do this - although it is very funny to startle Scar or Mumbo with it sometimes when they're concentrating. Honestly it's usually less effective than communicators, with how much effort it takes.

But he does have a way. The same way he used to whisper in Martyn's ear very recently, in fact.

He reaches out, away from his home, away from his body, and it feels a little like simultaneously overextending himself, and putting his foot down on a step he thought was flat ground.

That is... not how this usually feels.

It's odd. Rather unnerving.

But it works.

He finds Martyn. Watches the vague shape of him solidify into something more real.

He’s still wearing his red life outfit, for some reason. His eyes are closed. Around his head, the coral curls like a blood-red crown.

“What do you think you're playing at?” Asks Grian.

Martyn blinks his eyes open slowly, looking less confused than Grian would expect for someone hearing a disembodied voice out of nowhere. “Oh good.” He says dryly. “You again.”

He squawks indignantly. “Hey, what's that supposed to mean?”

There is silence for a few seconds.

“...Hey.” Martyn says, and as flippant as he suddenly sounds, he looks as thrown off balance as Grian feels. “Not sure who this is, but I think you might have the wrong number!”

“I think that's unlikely.” He deadpans. “Where are you? I haven't been able to get hold of you.”

“Uh-” There's a short pause as he looks around at wherever he is right now. “Falling into endless nothingness, looks like. Same old, same old, am I right?”

Grian rolls his eyes. “Yeah, ok. Well, I suppose you don't have to tell me.” A part of him makes a note of Martyn’s wording, though. Just in case.

“...Hm. Well, not gonna lie, I do appreciate the change of pace, but I would love to know what exactly you want from me. You know, just on the off chance that you feel like giving me any clues.”

It's at this point that Grian remembers: one of the main reasons this method of communication is good for messing with people is that it makes him sound, um. A little different. And while he can see Martyn, it’s not as if Martyn can see him.

...Best to just pretend that hadn't slipped his mind.

“You do realize this is Grian, right?” He asks, as though it ought to be obvious.

“Riiight, yeah, sure.” Says Martyn. “And I'm also Grian, did you know that?”

“Oh for- what, do you want me to tell you some secret only the two of us would know, or something?”

“Nah.” Says Martyn. “That wouldn't work.”

“Elaborate.” Says Grian, through gritted teeth.

“You know what? I don't think I will!” Replies Martyn brightly.

Grian takes a deep breath in through his nose. “I'm beginning to wonder why I bother.” He grinds out.

Martyn snorts. “Tell me about it.”

There's a short silence.

“But- ok.” He continues. “Just suppose for the sake of argument that you are Grian.”

“...Yes?” Asks Grian warily.

“I have a question for you.”

“...Yeeees?” Asks Grian, even more warily.

The silence stretches for several long moments.

“What's up?” Asks Martyn.

“Yeah ok, this isn’t worth it, I'm leaving now.”

“Wait! No, I'm serious!” Under the amusement, there's a note of something that sounds almost like nervousness in his voice. It's uncharacteristic. Unnerving.

“What are you talking about?” Asks Grian, trying very hard to keep his voice at least mostly free of annoyance.

“Oh, you know! What's going on, what's the deal, what'd you want to talk to me for?” There's a slight hesitation. “You need help or something?”

“I- ok. That's actually sort of relevant. It's really nothing too complicated, Martyn.” He says, grumpily. “All I wanted to do was make sure you're good with what happened at the end of the last game.”

Martyn blinks, and goes very still.

There is a long silence - long enough that Grian starts to feel concerned.

And then Martyn laughs.

It's not a nice laugh.

“Good, huh. You want to know if I’m good with it. That sure is an interesting choice of words.”

“...How so?” He asks, guardedly.

“Grian. Grian, I’m not sure if you remember this, but I won. I won this one, Grian.” Every word he says, however restrained, sounds like it’s had to claw its way out of him. He glares at nothing. “And guess what? It's just like the others. I don’t really care enough for any of it to matter to me, anymore, and that's fine by me.”

Now that's... a lot to unpack. “You- I'm sorry?”

“Well that makes one of us then, doesn't it?” His voice is coated with scorn.

“What are you talking about?”

“Do you actually think I’m going to explain myself to you?” He asks, looking half-amused. “You, of all people?”

“Well unfortunately, Martyn, I can’t exactly put Ren on the line, so I’m afraid I’m all you’re going to get.” He snaps, and instantly regrets it when he sees the look in Martyn’s eyes.

There is a short silence.

Grian shifts uncomfortably. He’s not going to apologize, obviously. But. Well. “That... ok, maybe that was a bit much.” He says.

“...Little bit, yeah.”

There is another silence.

After a while, Martyn speaks.

“I would’ve betrayed him too, you know.” He says coolly.

“What, Ren?”

“Yeah. At the drop of a hat. Soon as it was convenient.”

“I mean sure, I suppose?” Says Grian, caught off guard. “You didn’t, though. Did you? When you had the chance.”

“Eh.” He shrugs, as though that’s an irrelevant detail. “It would’ve been more dramatic later. You know how it is.”

...There's no real way he can justify saying no to that, is there? “Yeah.” He says. “I guess I do.”

He tries to picture the King, betrayed. The Hand, triumphant.

“I dunno, though.” He says, thoughtful. “I don’t think you ever could’ve done it, to be honest. Not in the first one. Whatever it was you were planning, it was just never how that story was going to go.”

“That’s not true.” He says it just slightly too fast. “I know that’s not true.”

Grian scoffs. “You know thinking about something isn’t the same as doing it, right?”

“What, no, really?” He rolls his eyes. “You don’t say!”

“What I’m saying,” He lets his voice turn biting, “Is that you’re being stupid.”

Martyn lets out a startled laugh. It’s surprisingly genuine. “Wow. You’re really bad at this, dude.”

Grian bristles. “Well why am I the one who has to do it then? Why don’t you talk to someone else, if you hate talking to me so much?”

“I mean…” He makes an unconvinced noise. “Obvious problems aside, when do you even expect me to do that? We usually have other things to worry about.”

“I don’t know, maybe at literally any point between the games?” He sighs exasperatedly. “There’s no way you’re that busy.”

“Between the games?” Martyn asks incredulously, and Grian suddenly feels as though something dangerous is hovering over their heads, just about to drop. “What do you mean, between the games?”

“I mean between the games! Like- now! What do you think this is, right now, if it’s not between the games?” He snaps.

“This right now?” He looks nonplussed. “I think we’re usually asleep for most of this bit. Or possibly we forget about it. As you can probably imagine, it’s hard to know for sure.”

“Now I know that’s not true.” He says firmly, ignoring the unease trying to creep up on him. “I know I do stuff between games, and I know I don’t just forget about it. That makes no sense.”

“I mean, I don't necessarily mean everything between the games, more just this specifically.” He gestures around at nothing. “That gets more complicated, though. But you- hm.” He looks curious. “That’s interesting. Where even are you, then, at the moment?”

“I’m at home! Which is where I thought everyone else was too!”

Martyn seems to consider this for a few moments, and then he frowns, and then his expression goes blank. “…Oh.” He says. “Yeah. No, that… makes sense, actually. Yeah. You’re probably right.”

“Wha- what do you mean? Right about what?”

“Everyone probably went home. Or, at least, they thought they did. And hey, what’s the difference, when you get right down to it?”

“...Ok, I’m going to ignore the second part for now, I already got past that little existential crisis after Ren and Doc’s whole… thing… in season eight- if you think everyone went home, why are you- what was it you said- ‘falling into endless nothingness’?”

There’s another pause.

“...You’re really gonna make me say it, huh? That seems cruel, even for you.”

“Wait, no, what do you-”

“Where else do you think I would go?” It sounds less like an admission and more like an accusation. “What ‘home’ do you think I have left, Grian?”

“Look.” Snaps Grian, feeling vaguely tricked. “It’s not my fault that you-”

“Yeah, it never is, is it?” He glares into the darkness. “It’s always a tragic inevitability with you, never a choice you’re making. That way you get to stab people in the back and pretend to be sad about it. Best of both worlds, huh?”

Grian splutters for a few seconds. “Why are you being so rude to me??”

“Because you’re you and I’m me.” He smirks. “Don’t know what you expected, honestly.”

“Oh yeah? Who’s hiding behind inevitability now?” Grian retorts, perhaps a trifle vindictively.

“I never said I wasn’t a hypocrite, sometimes. Also, I never said I felt bad about it.” He replies levelly, and all at once, they’re talking about something else.

“You didn’t need to say it.” Snaps Grian. “You might be good at lying but you’re not perfect. I could see in your face that it hurt.”

He narrows his eyes. “It felt good, actually.”

“Wow, good for you.” He says, almost amused suddenly. “You didn’t say I was wrong, though.”

His expression twists into something unreadable. “I know you, Grian. Like recognizes like.” He says, voice low and dangerous. “You’re a liar.”

Grian shrugs, despite the fact that Martyn will not see it. “And you’re a coward. Your point?”

“I don’t need to justify myself to someone who refuses to admit that he could have chosen to be better, if he’d ever wanted to.” He spits out.

“Hey, at least I don’t try and convince myself I’m a monster just because I want to survive.”

That one strikes something tender; he can tell. “Right, yeah, and you’re just a blameless angel and everyone you cut down had it coming, I’m sure.”

“I didn’t say that. But since you bring it up… how many people did you give up your time for, again?” He grins. “Is it less than one? Because I think it is. I think I’ve got you beat there, Martyn.”

“And where did it get you?” He snarls.

“Home, in the end.”

Martyn flinches back as though he’s been struck.

“Did you forget about that part?” Asks Grian.

There’s a long pause.

Martyn fidgets with the end of the banner he wears around his waist, pulling at where the white threads are coming undone. He stares out into the darkness. “Yeah.” He says. “I guess I did.”

The satisfaction of winning the argument feels less potent, suddenly.

“You’re right.” Says Grian, after a while. “I’m really bad at this.”

Martyn laughs quietly. “To be fair, I’m not exactly helping.”

“You’re really not.”

He sighs. “You know pulling the knife out just makes the wound start bleeding again, don’t you? That’s all we’re doing here. That’s all we’re going to do to each other. We’re too alike to do anything else, unless we just don’t do anything. And hey, we’re not great at that either.”

“Hmm.” Says Grian begrudgingly. “I’d say something about inevitability again, but I honestly don’t think you’re wrong.”

“We both just enjoy pushing buttons too much to be particularly good at not pushing them, I guess.” Martyn sounds half-amused, half-resigned.

Grian makes an irritated noise. “Yes, alright, I don’t need another reminder of the whole button debacle.”

There is more silence.

After a while, Grian speaks again. “There’s something I was wondering about, actually.”

“Oh yeah?” Martyn raises an eyebrow.

“What’s the reason?” He asks.

“You’re gonna have to be more specific with that one, mate.”

“‘This is a death match for a reason.’” He says matter-of-factly. “That’s what you said. So- what is it? What’s the reason?”

Martyn blinks, then lets out a short, harsh laugh. “You think I know that?”

“No, not really. That’s why I wondered what you meant when you said it.”

“It- look. I don’t know if you’re expecting philosophy from me, or something. It’s a death game. People die, and it doesn’t have to mean anything. It doesn’t have to be special, it doesn’t have to be honourable, it doesn’t have to be fair. That’s what I meant.” He frowns. “You know that.”

“I do.” He admits.

“Then why ask?” Martyn looks around as though this time, somehow, he might be able to find Grian’s face in the dark.

He doesn’t.

“I just-” Grian sighs. “What do you want?” He asks. “What do you actually want, Martyn?”

The question sits heavy in the darkness between them.

“What do you want me to say?” Martyn asks. He sounds more tired than Grian’s ever heard him.

“I want you to tell the truth.” Grian says. He needs to know. He needs to know.

“Now, Grian.” Says Martyn, voice gently chiding. “Have you met me? You know I can’t do that.”

“Pretend it’s a lie, then.”

Martyn’s grip on the banner he wears tightens, slightly. There is a long, long silence.

“Or how about,” Says Grian, eventually, “You say something, and I won’t know whether it’s a lie or not.”

There is another pause.

Martyn frowns at the red of the fabric in his hands, as though it might offer him something.

As far as Grian can tell, it does not.

He’s just beginning to give up hope of ever getting an answer when Martyn speaks, so softly he almost doesn’t hear it.

“I want it to be warm again.” He says.

It’s quiet.

For a moment – just a moment, no more – Grian remembers bloody, aching fists. He remembers burning heat.

“Well.” He says. “That makes one of us, then. Doesn’t it?”

“Yeah.” Says Martyn, voice low. “I guess it does.”

There’s another short second of silence before Martyn speaks again, sounding cheerful. “So, suppose I’ll see you in the next one, huh? If that ever happens.” He grins. “Wanna take bets on how hard Scott’ll have to try not to win it? I’m gonna go with very.”

Grian snorts. “I’m not taking that bet. That man is infuriatingly good at surviving.”

“You’re not wrong! You are not wrong.” He gestures into the void. “And don’t even get me started on Timmy’s whole thing, I think we both know how that one’s gonna go. Unless you want to bet against him being gone first next time round?”

“You’re not Scar.” Says Grian. “There’s no way you talk anyone into taking that bet in a million years. Except maybe Timmy.”

“Fair, fair.”

There’s a short pause.

Grian hesitates for a moment before he speaks – almost, but not quite, reluctant. “Why do you keep looking back?” He asks. “There’s nothing left for us there. You know that, right?”

“I mean, let me know when you find a better place to look.” He tilts his head to the side slightly, curious, and frowns. “Do you really never want to go back?”

“No.” Says Grian. “Never.”

Martyn opens his mouth, and then, uncharacteristically, closes it again. “Yeah.” He says. “Me neither.”

Grian is tempted, momentarily, to tell Martyn to take the banner off and let it go. Let the darkness take it. Prove it.

But just like Martyn, he lets it drop.

Mutually assured destruction is a potent thing.

Now all he has to do is the hard part. The part he’s dreading most of all.

The main concern is phrasing it correctly. Making it sound just how he wants it to sound.

After some thought, he thinks he’s found the words he's looking for.

He could always be wrong, though. He’s usually more one for incredible violence than smooth talking.

“Martyn?” He asks cautiously, casually. “Do you want me to help you?”

The expression that crosses Martyn’s face is unreadable.

He processes the question for a few moments, before he answers.

“Nah. I’m good.” He says, voice guarded. “Don’t worry about it.”

And that’s the rub, isn’t it.

Because now Grian has to decide whether he’s going to let Martyn lie to him or not.

Whether he’s going to pass the test that’s been set before him, or not.

...

Grian’s not a monster.

He’s just realistic.

There's nothing he could do, anyway.

“Well.” He says levelly. “Just let me know if that changes.”

(Martyn would do the same to him. It’s not a justification, or an excuse. But he knows it to be true.)

Martyn stares out into the darkness. His eyes are almost, but not quite, resentful. “Sure thing, man. Why wouldn’t I.”

It’s not said like a question, so Grian doesn’t answer it. “Well, you know I can’t stay here forever.”

“I do know that.”

“Any messages you want me to pass on to any of the hermits? I know you haven’t seen Mumbo in a while.” It’s not really a compromise, or a peace offering. Hopefully, however, it’s close enough to one or the other of those to act in their stead.

Martyn closes his eyes. Breathes in. Breathes out. Opens his eyes again. “If you were Grian, then maybe.” His gaze is cold. “But I think this hypothetical has gone on long enough.”

...It’s a lot easier for both of them, if Martyn believes that.

He’s positive Martyn knows that.

Just this once, perhaps he can manage to not look a gift horse in the mouth.

“For what it’s worth,” He says, looking away, “I moved on from the Bad Boys when it got too expensive to keep them alive.”

“It’s not worth a lot.” Says Martyn flatly. “And it would be worth even less coming from Grian.”

Grian sighs. “Alright. Fine. I’ll see you around, Martyn.”

“I know.” Says Martyn. He closes his eyes.

After a few moments, Grian does too.

When he opens them, he’s home.

…

Oh, that doesn’t feel good.

It really doesn't.

He could dwell on this. It wouldn’t be hard. He could drown himself in guilt over what he’s done, or not done, or will not do.

But- well.

Grian never really saw the point in letting someone else drag you down with them.

#once he's sure that the thing he's decided to pretend was not grian is gone #martyn goes back to falling #and wishes he still felt enough grief to be able to cry.#limited life smp #life series #grian #martyn inthelittlewood #my writing #i finally managed to finish this. it took me. a while.#they're narrative foils to the point of absurdity is the thing #they're incredibly similar and also completely different #it's fascinating

1K notes · View notes

itsmeoculi · 11 months

Note

16!Dazai x PM!reader smut where:

Reader was on a mission with him and since he's stressed as fuck he got more stressed since he saw you(his lover) flirting with someone(even if it's a mission). Once you got home he did the thing and overstimulated you.

Ty! Take your time ♡

Tiny but important note:In one of my posts I did put that I wasn’t on board with doing minors (16 yes is close but still not really comfortable) but since Dazai does have a canon adult age I’ll make it 19 cause I’m not comfortable doing ages under 18. Thank you, I hope you understand and I don’t think it affects the story that much.

Let’s get a move on now!

“𝒴𝑜𝓊 𝓀𝓃𝑜𝓌 𝓌𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝒹𝒾𝒹..”

Pairing: 19!A bit of Dom!Dazai x Sub!AFAB(FEMALE)!PM! Reader

TW!: SMUT, NSFW CONTENT, MAINLY FOR THOSE OF MATURITY, eating out, overstimulation, and y’all already know Dazai is a bit of sadist but I don’t think that’s in there much

Synopsis: It’s been busy in the Port Mafia, so busy that Dazai l hasn’t seen you in a while. Lucky for him Mori sends you two on a mission, he was happy at first but you seemed to not give him the attention he craved. Now, you’re getting punished.

Mori sent you and Dazai on a mission. Of course, Dazai, being Dazai, was more focused on being with you than the actual job. But here you are now sitting at a table in a fancy diner waiting for a specific waiter by the name of Ruki Satō (not a canon character just made it up) Ruki Satō was one of the best performing waiters, but he screwed over the Port Mafia after not repaying a debt and killing two of the Mafia’s men. Mori sent you two to kill him, and lucky for you he was your server tonight.

Dazai was ecstatic to see his lover again, but unfortunately for him his belladonna was paying more attention to ANYTHING but him. You would hear him go.

“Bella…” “Come on (name).. look at me.” “Love, let’s chat, the waiter isn’t even here yet~”

“Not now ‘Samu.. we have something more important than what your trying to do right now.”

Now, Dazai would usually laugh it off.. but the way you said it wounded him. You were cold and it was like a dagger to his heart when he heard your tone. This whole week had been a mess for him, and now his belladonna? The love of his life had became part of that mess…

He stayed quiet

You no longer heard the sweet nothings he’d say, only silence.. Awkward silence, until Ruki broke it.

“Oh hello I’m Ruki Satō and I’ll be your server tonight. What can I get you two~?”

You proceed to order something light

“Awesome, that will be it for the lovely lady? How about him?”

Dazai looked painfully at the waiter ‘What did he just call (name)..’ he thought, he didn’t answer the waiter in spite of how pissed off he was with Ruki hitting on you.

But you took the Ruki’s flirtatiousness as an advantage and proceeded to flirt back.

“He’ll have the same thing. Thanks sweetie for being so polite tonight. And forgive my friend, he’s tired.”

You blew a kiss at the waiter before he left. Dazai did not like this one bit. ‘Friend?? What the hell is that kind of excuse?’ He stayed quiet though, because he had plans for later.. on his revenge.

A few minutes passed and Ruki brought your food. Of course wanting to seduce him more, you asked him to stay and chat.

The waiter liked this and at this point Dazai wouldn’t be surprised if you two made out already.

Dazai’s hell of you two basically asking each other to fuck, goes on for about an hour. When it’s finally over you say this.

“Dazai, please meet me in the parking lot. I want to give our waiter here’s special tip in the alleyway~”

He was scared now, he thought if you were about to do what he thinks your about to do he’s done with you. He left for the parking lot, reluctantly, as you guided Ruki to an alleyway.

“This might be the best customer I had tonight~”

“Hehe, let’s have fun.” The waiter was vulnerable now, and you start shuffling at the back of your pants, which made him think you were gonna remove them.

..but instead, you pull out a gun.

“Wait! You- know don’t do this don’t-“

Bang..

You used a silencer.. to of course cause less commotion. Now the job is done.

You leave the alleyway and go to the parking lot. Dazai waiting at the car, engine ready. Once you enter, it’s straight home, he has some matters he needs to.. deal with.

Once you get home, he slams the door and locks it, removing his coat. “I’m gonna go change ‘Samu.”

You said, heading for the bedroom not even taking a single look at Dazai. But this was perfect for him, because he had a plan.

Ignoring your “warning” he swung the bedroom door wide open and pushed you onto the bed, you were already half-nude. Bra off, and the only thing covering you was a pair of lace underwear, and your hands.

“You look pathetic, belladonna.”

“Dazai- I told you I was- MGH!”

He cut you off by inserting 3 fingers into your mouth

“You’re gonna have to be punished for your whole act, back at the diner.”

He said as he removed his white dress shirt, revealing his bandaged body.

“I should’ve left you at the diner y’know.. but now your helpless. Who knew the cold and fierce (name) would be so quick to submit.”

You whimpered but he removed his fingers from your mouth.

“Quiet now belladonna. I need you to lay back for me.” You followed his orders.

“Great now open your legs wide for me darling.” You tried to do so, but you were so intimidated so you could even move an inch!

“You can’t do anything right, can you?” He leaned forward, resting himself on the bed, and then harshly opened your legs wide. You let out a slight whine from the sudden movement. He placed his face in-front of your sopping cunt. The wetness bleeding through your underwear.

“Gotta get rid of these somehow~” He said, immediately ripping the under garment and throwing it to the side. (too bad you bought those last week 😬)

“You’re soaking wet already? Such a slut (name) such a slut!” He said deviously, as he prodded his tongue around, and circled around the outer lips of your cunt. “You still taste as good as last time, but how you spoke to me in the diner may have ruined it~”

You wanted to sock this little bastard into a duffel bag. He was being such a jerk right now.. he was probably gonna edge you, or that’s what you thought. Until he said..

“Don’t worry belladonna, you’ll get your sweet release, but you will have to pay for stressing me out so badly.”

Your fucked..

Dazai inserts his tongue, deep inside of you. Then, he started to make more friction and lapping up your insides like a dog. The more he licked, the more wet you got. He hit all those sweet spots that made you see stars.

You reached your high and a loud moan filled the room. Dazai made a stifle grunt, pleased by the *honey* you made, he licked all up like it was maple syrup.

“Fuck! ‘Samu.. so good. H-hey wait I’m not-” your sentence was interrupted by a groan, as he started to abuse your cunt, with that silver tongue of his. He went back to eating you out and muffled “I don’t like it when my meal gets interrupted.” The vibrations of him speaking against your pussy made you arch your back beautifully.

“Beautiful, belladonna..” Dazai said, while adding in one of his slim fingers to run around your clit. This caused you to gasp in the immense arousal you were feeling. His free hand wandered, massaging your breasts. That’s when you came a second time, but instead of a short pause he kept going, lapping you all up.

“Wait- Osamu! W-wait-mhgh~”

You could barely fabricate sentences at the overstimulation. Your 2nd orgasm just happened, and he didn’t even pause!

Tears started forming in your eyes, and you were a moaning mess.

“Shh, belladonna I need to hear your moans not you sobbing.” He said harshly, you nodded. Yours eyes like a puppy’s big and.. “innocent” not you in this case, a better word would be helpless.

Dazai was abusing your sweet spots and your his tongue hitting exact one with such accuracy. It was like he saw inside of you.

You had your 3rd orgasm, still no stopping.

You were fucked silly, like it was some sort of euphoria coming over you. This round however was the fastest pace.

Cunt, puffy. Clit, swollen. Sweet spots BRUISED. And your throat hurt from your high pitched gasps and moans coming out of you. At some point you felt part of his teeth, but he was unstoppable. You were whining and sobbing. Tears streamed thinly down your eyes. You were pretty sure you were trying to say “Too much! Too much!” But it came out as a bunch of gibberish.

Then his tongue finally hit that special spot that made you see stars, and your 4th orgasm came. Thank god he stopped at that. He took his hand that was playing with your clit, and licked it clean. He proceeded to give you a few kisses before going to the drawer.

“What are you- doing?” You said, catching your breath.

“Just the finale of my punishment for you.” He pulled out a vibrator.

Dazai proceeded to place it near the entrance of your cunt, and set it to the weakest level.

“Have fun~!” He said, while sitting in a nearby seat smirking at you as you struggled

What a cruel asshole.

Hii this the end I hoped you kinda liked this. I’m not awesome with smut but I’m willing try yk.

#dazai x y/n #dazai x reader #bungou stray dogs #dazai smut #bsd smut #smut #dazai x reader smut #dazai x y/n smut #dazai x you #bsd x you #Bsd dazai #dazai Osamu #osamu dazai #bsd Dazai #bsd dazai x reader #port mafia dazai

1K notes · View notes

darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 4 months

Text

Dirty Work 5

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as bullying, familial discord/abuse, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You start a new gig and find one of your clients to be hard to please.

Characters: Loki

Note: Let's see if I make it through Monday.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!)

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

At Corissa’s insistence, and against your own reticence, you have a taste of nearly every course. The fiery red head gabs animatedly in her work, to her assistants and the servers, and even to you. You feel something very peculiar; you feel included.

That pleasant sensation is as fleeting as the night. The servers bring in the dishes, many untouched, and you clean them attentively, keeping the counters clear of clutter. Corissa mutters about the waste and has the leftovers scraped into containers, promising them to her hardworking staff. She even offers you one but you refuse, you’ve indulged enough. You suspect Mr. Laufeyson would be less than pleased to see you walking out with a to-go box.

You are not requested again to tend to the diners. Voices carry from down the hall and the front door opens and shuts between farewells. Amid the hue, you do not hear Mr. Laufeyson though you try not to listen intently.

Corissa and her staff depart with their work done and you’re left to clean up. It’s near midnight. You’re surprised at how long the gathering lasted and yet, you wouldn’t know what to expect. You’d never attended anything like that. You didn’t even go to your own high school graduation.

There’s a scuff and a shadow darken’s the edge of your vision. You lift your head to find Mr. Laufeyson crossing the threshold, his polished shoes clicking on the tile. You dip your head in acknowledgement and return to stacking the dishes neatly inside the cupboards.

“Do not forget the dining room. My guests proved to be animals,” he scoffs, “though, what use would you be if they didn’t leave you some work?”

You nod again. You close the cupboard door and move to the stemmed crystal. You open the glass cabinet that holds the various liquor vessels. You set each in tidy lines, following the pattern.

You wait for him to leave but he remains. Is he watching you or are you just paranoid? You clasp the door shut and face him, though you’re not intent on him. The dining room. You hope you might finish it quickly. You glance at the clock again.

“Do you recall what I told you at the beginning of the night?” He asks brusquely.

You gulp and part your lips, your words trapped in your chest.

“Speak,” he demands with a flippant flick of his fingers.

“Yes, I do, Mr. Laufeyson–”

“Not a look, not a word,” he retorts.

“Mr. Laufeyson, I didn’t–”

“The blond man. I saw your eyes stray,” he insists, “the worst thing you can ever do is lie to me.”

“I… I apologise, it wasn’t– I didn’t mean to–”

“Ah, enough,” he dismisses your protests, “this isn’t an argument. I am merely reminding you of the rules. I do hate to repeat myself.”

You seal your lips and put your chin down in deference. You made a mistake. You’re wrong, he’s right.

“Now you know. I expect it not to happen again,” he rebukes.

His sole squeaks on the floor as he spins and struts out. You look around, time to move on to the dining room. You tiptoe out and find the hallway empty. You creep down to the dining room and find it similarly abandoned.

You enter and begin your work. You wipe down the table and tidy little bits of food and forgotten napkins. You push in the chairs and remove a broken stem from one of the vases at the centre line of the table.

The clock ticks and heightens your impatience. You have to hurry if you’re going to catch the bus. If you don’t… you don’t know if you can budget a cab.

“There is another thing,” Mr. Laufeyson gives you a start as he appears through the archway, “something forgotten…”

You look at him with confusion stitched into your forehead. He reaches into his jacket and slips out a pinkish slip of paper. It’s folded into quarters with a curl in one corner. You recognise it immediately.

“I assume you didn’t mean to leave it on the floor,” he sneers as he comes closer, holding it between his index and middle fingers, “I almost tossed it but I did peruse it in case… Well, I don’t mean to pry…”

You take it and nearly thank him aloud. You look at the folded invoice and a cringe pinches your cheeks. You didn’t even realise you’d dropped it. You would prefer to forget about it but that would hardly void the debt.

“You look well,” he muses. You flinch; what does he mean? “I did note it was for the same date you were absent however.”

You tuck the invoice into your pocket and fix another chair. He lurks close as you try not to falter. He puts his hand on the next chair to stop you.

“You may speak. Humour my intrigue. You don’t appear very sick.”

You close your eyes and take a deep breath. It feels as if he’s making some joke you don’t understand. Your lips strain and you stare at his tie.

“My father had an emergency, Mr. Laufeyson. That is all. He is better now.”

“Ah, a loyal daughter,” he remarks, “it is almost endearing.”

You stand in a stalemate. Your eyes drift over to the clock and back to his slender tie. You’re almost done and you’ll have just enough time to get to the stop.

“I suppose you are eager,” he steps in between you and the clock, “to get home to your sick father.”

You clutch the cloth tight and scrunch your lips. Your stomach does somersaults. You want to beg him to let you finish so you can go home. So you’re not stranded but you already made yourself pathetic enough.

“I am not a man without empathy, I would not keep you long. However, I do wish to have a proper conversation,” he declares.

You nod and wring the cloth. You dare to peek at his face and find his attention on your hands. You still them and drop your eyes again. Is he going to fire you? Rather, tell the agency of your misdeeds?

“I would assume you rely on transit. I am in a rather bright mood after my little soiree so I feel of a mind to offer a favour. One which would allow us to converse,” he rolls the button of his jacket between his thumb and index, “I would drive you home and you would listen, yes?”

You nod and he shows his palm.

“Say it.”

“Yes, Mr. Laufeyson. That is very kind.”

“Isn’t it?” He preens and swirls away again, “ten minutes should be sufficient for you to wrap up. I will be at the door.”

“Yes. Mr. Laufeyson.”

“Wonderful,” he strolls out, his unusual glee putting you on guard.

🧹

As promised, Mr. Laufeyson is waiting at the front door. You only realise after checking the back door. You don’t feel good about accepting an unearned favour but the last bus is well and gone.

He opens the door as he sees you enter the foyer. To your surprise, he holds it for you to pass through first. You suppose it's a habit. He is fond of etiquette.

He follows and directs you to a sleek black car in the drive. You wait patiently at the passenger door as he unlocks it and lowers himself into the driver’s seat. It’s only then that you get in, gently closing the door. You put your kit between your feet and click your seat belt into place.

He turns the ignition and the engine hums quietly. It runs so smoothly, you barely feel it. He backs up before steering around the arch of driveway and towards the gate. He reaches to hit a button on the small fob dangling by the rear view and the wider gates split for him to pass through.

You wait for him to begin. He must be basking in your anticipation. Less than eager for what comes next, it's more a needling anxiety.

“So, let us get down to it,” he begins, one hand on the wheel. The roads are near desolate in the late hour. “I’ve a proposition for you.”

You wait and listen. You assume that’s the deal still. He chuckles and carries on.

“An arrangement convenient for both of us. You see,” he pauses, exhaling as he measures his words, “I am not fond of the agency. I’ve not been for some time, neither have I had the time to search for an alternative.

“Details are irrelevant. My ex-wife enlisted them for a maid. Just as she employed the gardener and the cook. She might be gone but her handiwork remains, though a very big void as well,” he turns down the next street as you twiddle your fingers, “that is too say, she managed the house and without her, I find myself lacking. I’ve not even the chance to acquire a house manager, but now…”

He lets his suggestion dangle but you’re not quite sure you understand. You hate to presume. Hate to think more of yourself than you should.

“What I’m proposing is that you step into her shoes. In the manner of taking on that management. The gardener, the cook, general maintenance and the like,” he explains, “but of course, you would also keep to your existing tasks, keep the house orderly in all ways.”

You still your hands and stare at your lap. You don’t really believe it. He thinks you capable of all that? Based on what? Some mopping?

“You are rather adept at following orders,” he says, “and you are in need of money, yes?”

You hunch down in shame.

“I will pay more than the agency for I would not take a cut as they do. You will be compensated appropriately for your efforts,” he assures, “as they would lessen mine.”

You look over the dash and at the road ahead. Your father will be home soon, he might need more help, and yet, you most certainly need money. You still have over a month left on probation and even after, you’re not guaranteed full-time hours.

“There would be a starting bonus,” he intones, filling the silence, “fifteen hundred. As an incentive.”

Your eyes burn. That’s what the invoice reads in red. He’s taunting you now. He knows that you need it badly.

“This offer stands until you leave this car,” he says firmly, “so you may think about it.”

You blanch and keep your eyes forward. You can think all you want but that won’t change anything. There is no other answer. Even if it makes you nervous, even if you find that house stifling, and him terrifying. None of it matters. You need that money as much as your father needs you.

“I accept, Mr. Laufeyson,” you murmur. “I will do my best.”

He hums, a triumphant note, “I expect nothing less.”

🧹

You’re greeted by an empty house. It was too late to even think of going to the hospital. You wouldn’t want to wake your father during his recovery, and besides, his dejection sticks in your head. He told you not to come back.

You go to bed but don’t sleep very much. It’s hard in the lonely house. You want to tell your father that you got a new job. That you’re going to be able to pay for his hospital bills and that you’ll make things better. You will, when he gets home.

What has you just as wakeless is Mr. Laufeyson. He said you could start tomorrow. You’re nervous about that. Your only experience is the last month and a half of cleaning. He might expect more than you can do. Worse, you might not be able to meet those expectations.

You toss and turn, sleeping a few hours just before your alarm. You have your tea and get dressed. You bring your kit, just in case, and head out to catch the bus. You don’t like being in the house alone so you’re all too happy to get out.

You walk the block and a half from the bus stop. You realise as you come to the iron gate that you don’t have the new code. You stand cluelessly, locked out and listless. You notice the small button by the metal speakerbox. Does it work?

You tap the bell and wait. Nothing. You even lean in to listen to the speaker. It’s entirely dead. You try again. Still, nothing.

You lean in and peer through the bars, like a prisoner. The front door opens and Mr. Laufeyson appears, a harried pace with a hint of agitation. He comes to the other side and looks out at you. His eyes scan you from head to toe. He opens the gate from within.

“In, in,” he demands curtly, “are you not supposed to make my life easier?”

You step in and he swings the door shut harshly. He huffs and swiftly outpaces you back towards the door. You hesitate. You never go in that way.

“Do not waste my time,” he orders without looking back.

You jog to catch up with him. You hop up the steps behind his lithe gait and trail him inside. He stops and points to the mat. You leave your shoes on it even as he keeps his own on.

“I’ve a list made up. That is sufficient, yes?”

You nod and he sighs. He’s already moving as you slipping in an effort to keep up.

“Speak,” he drawls.

“Yes, Mr. Laufeyson.”

“Very good,” he praises, a lilt of condescension dripping from his lips. “I trust you sent your resignation in. I would be happy to cut ties from that cursed agency at the soonest opportunity.”

You bite your lip. You didn’t even think of that. Your silence is telling.

“Add it to the list,” he says derisively.

#loki #dark loki #dark!loki #loki x reader #fic #dark fic #dark!fic #series #au #maid au #marvel #mcu #thor #avengers

297 notes · View notes

mochiwrites · 1 month

Note

One of the hermits sits Grian down one day and tries to tell him Scar loves him, and Grian, just as faithful to the bit as he is to his husband, just keeps brushing them off.

But then they tell him everything Scar went through while Grian was missing, things they think Grian might not know or realize. How Scar would leave Hermitcraft for weeks on end to scour Highpixel and any other server they'd ever been to and come home exhausted and distraught. How Scar would beg Doc to build some universe-breaking contraption that could find anyone and get angry when told it wasn't possible. How Scar would cry for hours some days and be an emotionless husk the next.

So yes, they tell Grian, who is now in tears himself, Scar loves you. Just tell him how you feel.

Grian goes straight to Scar and apologizes for the 100th time for doing that to him, and Scar just holds him and tells him that none of that matters, that he's home and safe and that's all Scar needs.

“Scar loves you.”

Grian blinks as he stares at both Impulse and Bdubs, the pair looking at him with uncharacteristically serious expressions. This is… not what he expected when being asked to meet at Bdubs’ monolith. “Well yeah, of course he does.” They’re married. Of course he knows! Not that Impulse and Bdubs are aware of that part, at least. It’s been a very funny bit going between himself and Scar.

“No G,” Bdubs argues, making Grian’s brows furrow, “Scar loves you.”

He knows that.

Impulse glances at Bdubs before sighing quietly. “Scar never mentioned how he was when you went missing, did he?” His voice is soft as he asks, calm and friendly.

Slowly, Grian shakes his head. They had of course spoken at length about how hard it was on both sides — with Grian being pulled apart and molded into the perfect little Watcher, and Scar wondering every night if he’d ever see his husband again. But Scar never seemed to want to talk about it much outside of his nightmares. Those nights were always hard, when Scar would cling to Grian, shaking like a leaf as he feared Grian being taken from him again. That was painful enough, he never wanted to press for more.

Bdubs scoffs, “The guy was a total mess! An absolute wreck without you around!”

Impulse elbows him, muttering a quiet “dude.” He looks back to Grian. “Bdubs isn’t uh, exactly wrong in saying that. Scar really didn’t handle you being gone too well.”

Grian tenses as an uneasy feeling sits in his stomach. Of course he knew that it hadn’t been easy for Scar. He can only imagine how badly Scar handled it, something he has a feeling he won’t have to imagine for much longer. If the sympathetic look Impulse is giving him is anything to go by.

“He tried to keep a brave face for a while, I think that was to keep us from worrying too much. Not that it worked much,” Impulse confesses with a weak chuckle. “He’d leave Hermitcraft at least once or twice a month for days at a time, said he was going to Hypixel to search for you. And every time he’d come home looking more distraught and tired than the last. It was… really hard to watch him break himself down like that.” Impulse frowns, absentmindedly brushing off his pants leg.

Hearing that makes Grian’s heart hurt. ‘Oh Scar…’ He can picture it so clearly, his husband racing all over Hypixel, asking anyone and everyone if they knew about Grian or his whereabouts. Going at it for multiple days. Grian imagines him going back to their apartment, collapsing in their bed. He probably exhausted himself often, doing that. Had he been properly taking care of himself? No… probably not.

“And that’s not even touching the stuff with Doc, either!” Bdubs cuts in, earning Grian’s attention. “Do you know how many times during Hermitcraft meetings he’d beg Doc to make some world breaking machine to find you?!”

Impulse grimaces, “Doc would tell him no every time, and gosh, I’ve never seen him get so angry before.”

Neither has Grian.

His wings drop slightly, chest aching at the thought of how much pain Scar must’ve been in. And for so long…

“Cub and I caught him crying a lot,” Bdubs continues, just a tad softer as the air in the room shifts around. Both he and Impulse seem to pick up on Grian’s reaction, the response. “Sometimes he’d cry for hours, or stare obsessively at his communicator. And the next day it was like we were looking at some shell of him.” He crosses his arms over his chest. “He was flat out emotionless, G. I think I could count the number of times I saw him smile on one hand.”

No, that doesn’t sound right. Scar is a man who never stops smiling. He has a smile that’s capable of lighting up the whole room. It’s hard to picture him now without one. Because it’s Scar. Wonderfully bright and happy Scar. The man Grian loves more than anything in the world. For him to lose that…

Impulse reaches out, setting a hand on Grian’s shoulder. “But he brightened up the moment he saw you again, G. You’re Scar’s world, man. He loves you more than anything. So just… be honest with him. Tell him how you feel, yeah?”

Grian sucks in a rough breath, willing his vision to clear as he meets Impulse’s gaze.

————————————————

It doesn’t take Grian very long to find Scar afterward.

He spots his lovable man right in Main Street of Scarland, humming to himself as he constructs a trolley by some flowerbeds. He looks focused, very much in the zone of building as he rests out a color palette or two.

Grian doesn’t hesitate to interrupt him, dropping down beside him. “Scar,” he gets out, of course startling the man.

Scar jumps with the usual goofy yell of his, hard hat falling off his head and hitting the ground with a resounding thud. He looks over at Grian, shocked expression melting into one of fondness as they lock eyes. “Oh! Well if it isn’t the love of my li— oof!”

He’s cut off as Grian barrels right into him, arms wrapping tight around his torso as he buries his face into Scar’s neck. Scar stumbles backward as he rushes to hug Grian back, pressing him close. “Whoa there. Not that I’m upset about this, but what’s with the sudden hug, lovebird?”

“I’m sorry.” Grian pressed his face further against Scar, wrapped up in the familiar smell of spice and earthy tones. “I’m sorry I — I didn’t know how bad it was I—” he breaks off, squeezing his eyes shut, voice wet and shaking. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Tell you about what?” Scar questions, his voice ever so soft as he moves to cards his fingers through his hair, picking up on his distress.

“How it was for you those years I was missing.” Grian wraps his wings around him on instinct, needing him close. He feels the way the other stiffens, going tense in his hold. “I’m so sorry, Scar.”

Scar shushes him, shaking his head as he presses a kiss against his hair. “You have nothing to apologize for, G,” he murmurs. “You’re here now and safe in my arms. That’s the only thing I care about.” And he means it. He and Grian could go through a thousand different trials, but none of them would matter, so long as Scar could hold him and keep him safe again. “You’re home. You’re here. That’s all I need, everything else is in the past.”

Grian’s breath shakes with a quiet and distressed noise, guilt flooding him. He mumbles a few more apologies; for leaving Scar, for not being there, for leaving him to struggle alone. “I love you so much,” he says, “I love you.”

Scar continues to hold him, kissing him all over. “I love you too, sunshine.”

#mochi speaks #mochi writes #secret husbands au #scarian #hermitshipping #THE AUDIBLE NOISE I MADE WHEN I READ YOUR ASK #WAILING AND SOBBINGGGGGG

200 notes · View notes

hollyseb · 5 months

Text

BARTENDER (PART 2)

You need to make ends meet. How far are you willing to go?

Mob! Bucky x reader

Part 1 can be found here: https://www.tumblr.com/hollyseb/737816177450041344/bartender-part-1

AN; thank you for all the love on part 1!

Warnings: drinking, gun violence, references to the mob, blood, MINORS DNI

Summary; bartending for an elite club to make ends meet. you don’t realise you’ve stumbled into the lair of Bucky Barnes.

He paid for my fee? What the fuck?

Now you knew something was up. First the staring, and now this. Your head was reeling with questions as you made your way inside your apartment, gently closing the door. He is just taking care of one of his employees.

Slipping into your pajamas and flicking the kettle on, you decided to attempt to unwind from your night. Everything was fine until this man decided to act all unpredictable.

Unbeknownst to you, Bucky couldn’t be any more pleased that you had accepted a ride from one of his drivers. You hadn’t questioned how the driver had started heading in the direction of your apartment block before you had revealed your address. He hoped you were flattered by the lift.

He wasn’t used to this. To pursuing his women. Most would flock to him, laying down at his feet. Providing nothing but a quick, cheap fuck.

When Bucky had left the club, he instantly headed to his office, shaking Steve off when he suggested he should head home.

“Steve, just leave me”, Bucky sighed as Steve reluctantly let his friend out of his grip. He could see the blaze in Bucky’s eyes, the focus in his upper body. There was no stopping him when he was like this, this drive was how he had risen through the ranks of the mob so ruthlessly.

Bucky sat in his office chair. He’d received your name and address from Sam, and Steve had found your social media sites. He grinned when he told his driver your address, having to hold himself back from scoping out the apartment block, but his grin grew even more when he opened your social media accounts. A couple pictures of you smiling with Nat, one from your graduation, and none with a boyfriend. He wasn’t expecting that.

You were so different. He found himself wondering about you, pondering your past and how you’d come to work at one of his clubs. He wondered if you knew what you were getting yourself in for, the people you were working for. Part of him wanted to tell you to run while you could, to turn your back and never return, but another part of him felt glad. Signing the contract to bartend his club was the perfect entanglement of your lives. He always got what he wanted.

When you arrived at the club the next night, he made sure to request you to serve his drinks.

When Nat told you the news, that he wanted you to deliver his drinks, you felt your face scrunch. Why me? You didn’t want a repeat of yesterday's events, so you told Nat to help you reapply your lipgloss, and attempt to give you some form of a pep talk before you grabbed the tray of five straight whiskeys.

“He wouldn’t ask you to serve his drinks if he didn’t think you were a good server. Now pucker your lips-” Nat explained absentmindedly.

“It’s just so weird. I mean, it was so awkward yesterday”

“Maybe he likes that?” You giggled. No way. Nevertheless, you appreciated Nat’s efforts to calm your nerves.

She continued, “well I know plenty of women would pay to serve him so…”, she elbowed you, referencing his good looks.

“Nat. That just makes it worse! He’s hot and he knows it, and he knows I know it-“, you rambled.

“And maybe he finds you hot”, you couldn't help but roll your eyes at that, as your best friend handed the tray of drinks to you.

Deep breath. He’s just a man. You’ve got this.

Heading up the stairs to the secluded room again, you felt a little shaky. As you drew the curtain back, the same silence fell over the room. It was all the same men from last night, the tall blond one, the dark skinned one, one sitting in a red suit and the long haired brunette.

You spoke first. Surprising yourself at that. “H-hello. I just wanted to thank you for the ride home last night… and also I have five whiskeys.”

The man at the head of the table let out an exhale, shaking his hair away from his face, “it was no problem honey. There will be one waiting outside for you tonight too.”

You were taken aback. A small, but grateful smile gracing your face. Bucky couldn’t take his eyes off of you.

“That’s… really kind of you, thank you. I’ll find a way to pay you back.”

“Ah-ah-ah”, Bucky tsked, standing up from his chair. God, he is massive. So tall. So broad. Your head craned to look up at him. Your stomach was flipping at his comment, “you won’t pay me back for anything”, he grabbed the tray from your hands, fingers brushing yours.

You sent him a smile, opening your mouth to wish him a thank you before leaving. You left the room with your hands shaking.

Bucky was obsessed with the way he made you nervous, and the way your dress cinched your waist. He saw everything. The way your hands shook when he brushed your fingers, the way your eyes lit up when you took in his build, and the way your cheeks flushed when he let his eyes roam your figure. He felt his cock grow hard when he saw that you didn’t spare a glance to any of the other men in the room, just him. You were his. Whether you knew it or not.

You let elation carry you through the rest of the night. You spent the next few hours behind the bar, your eyes trailing to the curtained room far more often than you liked. With watching Nat flirt with the regulars, and poke you in the ribs occasionally, you felt yourself relax into your role.

That was until you heard a popping sound. Repeatedly. And then screaming.

You were paralysed. Deafened by the noise, and then the sight of masked men enclosing the club, shoving guests down, smashing glasses, and shooting their guns into the air.

Panic seized you, gripping you by the throat. Nat pulled you onto the ground harshly, your chin smacking the cold floor behind the bar.

“Just be quiet. It’s okay. They’ll be here for boss, not us”, Nat explained frantically, as if she’d experienced this before. You couldn’t breath, just wheezing in manufactured gasps, eyes wide.

“N-Nat. I’m so scared”, you felt tears pooling in your eyes as the club quietened. You could hear footsteps. Quick ones. People were leaving. You assured yourself that maybe they weren’t trying to hurt anyone.

You could hear the men approaching the bar. Oh my god, this is it. You squeezed your eyes shut, desperate to stop the scene unfolding before you.

Your whole body seizing up as you felt a hand grab your upper arm, pulling you up, holding your body against theirs. You couldn’t see who it was, and your thoughts ran at a hundred miles-per-hour. As the figure pulled you to your feet, you looked across the bar, Bucky’s associates restraining the men. Sam kicked the gun from one's hand, then pushed him into the ground. Steve had the other backed into a corner, repeatedly pounding him in the jaw.

“Shh, shh, shh. I’ve got you. Let’s go. Come on.” The voice in your ear soothed you. You recognised it as Bucky’s. He brushed your hair from your face and wiped the tears from your cheeks with his rough hand. You could hear him yell something to Steve about grabbing Nat, but the pounding in your ears began to drown him out. He was practically walking for you, your feet barely scraping the floor.

He led you to the car parked outside the back of the club. Sitting you down and pulling the seat belt across your body. He was drinking you in. Looking at your red eyes and swollen lips.

“I am so sorry, honey. I have a… couple of enemies in the city. That will never, ever happen again”, he faltered over his words, carefully picking them.

You were shell shocked. Only able to nod in a fake understanding. What the fuck had you gotten yourself into?

“Look, let me take you home”, Bucky brushed a strand of disturbed hair behind your ear, his thumb running across your bottom lip. God you look gorgeous. He was obsessed with your swollen lips and the way you were clinging to him as if he was the weight holding you to reality. He hated the situation, the imposing mob hydra infiltrating his club at a poor attempt to establish fear, but god you looked insane.

He grabbed your hand, rubbing his thumb over your palm. He tried to explain, briefly, the situation. He ran a company which focused on the safety of citizens in the city. Some tried to breach that. To bring drugs, disorder and chaos in the city as a quick way to make money. You didn’t need to know all the details, he thought. He knew he was omitting information, making himself out to be the good guy. He’d done things he was ashamed of. Wronged good people. Eliminated the competition. Acted ruthlessly to own the city. But you didn't need to know that.

He was drunk on the way you were shaking in his arms. The power that he had to comfort you. He couldn’t help but smile. An open fire by the enemy mob has done nothing but bring me closer to what I want.

Bucky helped you get out of the car, walking you up to your apartment. Even after everything you’d witnessed, your boss helping you up the stairs to your flat brought you to reality. You didn’t question how he knew which floor and door to stop at.

“I-thank you for walking me back but, you should go now”, you couldn’t meet his eyes. The events of the night were catching up on you. You wanted to call Nat and lay in bed.

The tall man made you look at him, picking up your chin with his forefinger. He turned his head slightly as you locked eyes with him. You were just so gorgeous. He wanted to kiss you. But not like this. Not when you were this shocked. He wanted to make it special. Rose petals and champagne. Not like this. So he made a point to look at your chin, bloodied from hitting the ground earlier.

“At least let me clean this up”, god he was so convincing. You opened your door and let him follow you in. You grabbed your first aid kit from your bathroom, telling him to make himself comfortable.

You let him wipe your chin, and gently place a plaster over it. His free hand rubbing circles into your shoulder and the nape of your neck. It was close, sensual even. He felt his cock still at the way you closed your eyes and let your head tilt back when his thumb hit your sensitive spot. He wanted you like this all the time. Relaxed, open, and submissive. You allowed yourself to bask in his touch, and the comfort it brought. You deserve this after the day you’ve had.

“Please, come into my office tomorrow, I can’t have you coming back into work in this state. I need you to feel completely comfortable”, Bucky practically demanded. He wanted to take care of you so badly.

You breathed a sigh of relief. You could confide in him. You could ease yourself back into the club. Unaware of the undertones of comfortable.

“T-thank you Bucky. I’ll be there.” You dropped your eyes and thanked him for the care. He ran his hands down your arms before retreating towards the door. You needed this job, and you needed the money. This situation can’t change that.

You slipped into bed, questioning what exactly you would be doing with your boss tomorrow.

Meanwhile Bucky headed back to the club. There were two masked men in his basement he needed to deal with.

Next part here! https://www.tumblr.com/hollyseb/738091620032987136/the-bartender-part-3

TAGLIST

@melsunshine @scott-loki-barnes

#mob bucky #marvel #bucky x reader #mob bucky x reader #bucky x assistant!reader #mafia bucky x reader #mob bucky au #bucky barnes x reader #mafia bucky barnes

374 notes · View notes

hellodarling1357 · 5 months

Text

Drunk Words, Sober Thoughts? (Cassian x Reader) - Part 3

Hello hello!!! Part 3 is finalllyyyyy here, I’m so sorry for the wait. It’s a bit of a filler chapter but the next part should (hopefully) be up soon.

Here’s a link to part 1 and part 2 ✨

Enjoy and let me know what you think 🥰

Word Count: 2.3k

Your feet stumbled as you came to an abrupt halt, unable to tear your eyes away from the pair walking along the other side of the river.

The male you had let yourself believe you had a chance with, and the female, Evalina, who was clearly his perfect match.

Cassian and Evalina had been together almost two decades ago before their relationship was ripped to shreds by such a monumental fight that no one had dared asked Cassian what had caused it.

Although you had been concerned for Cassian during the fallout, you couldn’t help the guilt-ridden joy that coursed through you at the thought of Evalina no longer being around.

It seems, however, you were wrong.

Embarrassment washed over you as you realised this is what Cassian would’ve wanted to talk to you about this morning; he was drunk and didn’t know what he was saying and, oh, by the way, Evalina is back in the picture.

“Y/N?”

Mor pulled you from your thoughts, her eyes tracking over to see what had you stopping, causing her to let out a sigh as she wrapped an arm around your shoulder and forced you to keep moving.

“Come on. Let’s skip dinner and get you nice and drunk.”

You wouldn’t argue with that.

*****

“Hello ladies, welcome, welcome,” A handsome fae male greeted as you stepped inside the cozy wine bar. “How can I help you today? Table for two?”

You let Mor answer and guide you to your seat, too caught up in self pity to say anything to the male.

“Now,” He said with a clap of his hands and a dazzling smile. “My name is Bryn, owner of this establishment and your server for today. We are fairly new here and are missing a few shipments so our drinks list is somewhat limited, but I’ll do my best. What were you both after?”

Mor shot you a glance but you were preoccupied with looking out the window, torturing yourself by trying to catch a glance of where Cassian and Evalina might have gone.

“Just a bottle of wine please,” Another glance in your direction had Mor adding, “And two shots of vodka”

With a chuckle, Bryn took your menus and promised to be right back with your drinks.

“So,” You glanced back at Mor as she spoke, knowing your face was the picture of misery but unable to bring yourself to care. “Are you finally going to admit to me that you’re head over heels in love with Cassian, or do I have to keep pretending not to notice?”

You let out a groan and placed your head on the table.

A soft “ahem” caused you to jump up, cheeks flushing, as you realised Bryn had just arrived with two shot glasses.

You gave him a sheepish look and muttered a quick “thanks”, kicking Mor under the table as she laughed at you and your clearly broken heart.

Downing the shot, you glared back at Mor before reaching across the table and downing her shot as well.

“Hey!” Mor grumbled as you slammed the glass down.

Before you could respond, Bryn appeared again, bottle of clear liquid in hand.

“Looks like you might need this,” he said as he filled up both glasses again. “It’s on the house.”

Mor quickly grabbed her glass back before you could finish both of them off again.

With a sigh you pushed your now-empty shot glass towards the middle of the table.

“Is it really that obvious?”

“Yes.”

“Does Cassian know?” If he knew it would make the whole mess of a situation so much worse.

“I don’t know, Y/N. But I’m not sure if—“

You were hardly listening to what she was saying as you replayed the past 24 hours and the emotional roller coaster you had endured.

“I feel so stupid,” Mor stared back at you in silence, giving you a small smile that encouraged you to continue. “Last night, once we got back, we were just arguing back and forth, just about dumb things, and then he said…he was drunk, really drunk, but he said he loved me.”

Two wine glasses were placed in front of you and you graciously took a sip, unable to bring yourself to meet Mor’s eye.

“He said he loved me, and…I don’t know, I passed it off as him being drunk and just being him. But then, before he went to bed, he said it again, and the way he looked at me…,” You let out a heavy sigh before taking another sip of wine. “I just feel so stupid for letting myself think, hope, that it was real and that he actually meant it. But then this morning he wanted to talk, and now that Evalina is back in the picture…” You trailed off, still trying to piece your thoughts together.

Mor was silent for a moment as she turned over all you had said. It didn’t make any sense. She had seen you and Cassian together, the way you looked at one another, the joking and back-and-forth banter, the way both of your feelings were obvious to everyone except yourselves. But maybe she had been wrong…

“It might not be what you think it is,” Mor finally said. “Maybe just give yourself a couple of days, get some distance from him so you can sort out your own thoughts. Then we’ll work it out.”

Giving her a small smile, you nodded in response before changing the topic.

“Enough about me,” A sly smile spread across your face. “Will your friend from last night be joining us at Starfall this year?”

*****

You didn’t need to try too hard at avoiding Cassian over the next few days. Despite the upcoming celebrations, your workload remained never ending, allowing you only fleeting greetings as you crossed paths with one another.

As luck would have it, the week before Starfall, Rhys sent Cassian to Illyria to look into some rumoured wing clippings that had started springing up across some of the smaller camps. Although you missed him and worried about your friend whilst he was away, you found a sense of relief filling you as you were no longer having to hide away to avoid him.

You knew you would have to talk it out eventually, but for now you let yourself ignore the emotional turmoil and instead focused on the upcoming Starfall celebrations.

*****

You were just adding the finishing touches to your makeup when there was a knock on your door, followed by Mor letting herself in, not waiting for you to answer.

“Hello to you too.” You smiled at your friend in the mirror as you swiped some blush over your other cheek.

“Well aren’t you a sight for sore eyes.” She greeted as she passed you a generously filled glass of wine before setting herself down in one of the armchairs.

“Says you, you look absolutely stunning.” Mor just brushed off your compliment with a wave of her hand.

“Well go on, let’s see the dress. Everyone will be arriving soon.”

Taking a sip of wine, you walked over to your changing room, haphazardly throwing your silk robe onto the floor as you donned your Starfall dress.

Despite yourself, and the whirlwind the past two weeks had been, you couldn’t help but look forward to tonight. The distance from Cassian had helped you sort through your racing thoughts and allowed you to compose yourself enough to act as though nothing had changed.

Cassian had been delayed at one of the war camps and, according to Mor, had only returned to Velaris a few hours ago. Having been locked away with Rhys upon his return to go over his reports, and then with you spending the better part of the day bathing and getting yourself ready, you were yet to actually see him.

With a sigh you brushed out the skirt of your dress before grabbing your shoes and heading back out to the main part of your bedroom where Mor was waiting.

“I told you it was the perfect dress.” Mor squealed excitedly at the sight of you.

Grinning back at her, you quickly slid into your shoes before doing a final check over. You could feel your nerves start to flutter at the thought of seeing Cassian again, most likely with Evalina by his side if the other night was anything to go off.

With a final deep breath, you picked up your wine glass and turned to Mor.

“Ready?”

“Ready.”

*****

The echo of music and excited chatter flowed down the hallway as the two of you headed towards the crowd. A quick glance around the room told you Cassian was yet to join and you felt your tension somewhat ebbing away as you and Mor headed over to where Rhys, Azriel, and Amren stood.

You lost yourself in the music and just being able to enjoy the night with your friends, your worries from earlier were long gone, the multiple drinks you had consumed definitely playing a helpful factor.

Noticing everyone’s glasses were getting low, you excused yourself and headed towards the bar to get the next round.

Patiently waiting for a tray of five glasses, you leant against the wall and watched the party before you in a contented silence. You would be lying to yourself if you didn’t admit you were also keeping an eye out for a certain red-siphoned Illyrian who you had yet to spot.

“Well you’re definitely looking better compared to the last time I saw you.”

You startled at the fae male who suddenly appeared by your side.

“Hi…” You trailed off, giving him an apologetic smile. He definitely looked familiar but you couldn’t place where you had met.

“Bryn.” He laughed. “You and your friend visited my bar the other week. Though I don’t blame you for not remembering me, seemed like you had quite a bit on your mind.” He finished with a wink at your clearly embarrassed expression as you thought back to your sorry state that night.

“Bryn, of course. How are you? How’s business?”

Shooting you another grin, he excitedly said, “Oh, it’s really great. Been pretty busy so that’s keeping me busy, but I do love it. We have a similar establishment in the Dawn Court but my partner is originally from here so we decided it was time to move back. Actually…would you excuse me? I believe one of the guests over there dabbles in the selling of fine wines…”

You blinked in response to his faced paced chatter and his sudden retreating figure, shaking your head a bit with a chuckle at what felt like the conversation equivalent of whiplash.

“Miss…” A voice called out, “Your drinks.”

Turning back to the bar, you hurried over for the tray, offering a gracious smile before heading into the throng of people to where your friends stood.

“Well you took your time, did someone catch your eye?” You rolled your eyes at Mor’s teasing as the others chuckled and thanked you for the drinks.

“Actually,” you started, giving Mor a dismissive look when she excitedly perked up. “Bryn, the owner of that new bar we went to the other week, is here, he was just telling me how it was all going. Here, someone hold this, I’m just going to take the tray back.”

You handed your glass off to Azriel before weaving your way back towards the bar. You waved at Bryn as you passed, who was now animatedly talking to who you assumed was the wine seller.

Movement behind you and the sudden call of your name had you looking around, your heart dropping as you were suddenly stood in front of Cassian and Evalina.

You gaped for a moment before quickly collecting yourself and plastering on a smile.

“Hi,” You greeted, hoping your voice didn’t sound as shaky as you felt. “You’re back.”

Cassian gave you a soft smile, opening his mouth to say something but Evalina cut in.

“Y/N, it’s so good to see you. Cauldron, it’s been too long, hasn’t it?” You stiffened as she locked her arm around Cassian’s, a smirk gracing her features. “Can you believe that I’ve finally found my mate?”

And there it was.

You felt the blood rush to your head, the surrounding sounds of the party becoming a distant murmur as your body tensed and eyes went wide.

Her mate. Cassian was her mate, and she was his, and…

“Y/N? Are you alright?” Cassian’s concerned voice had everything rushing back into focus.

You blinked up at him, cursing yourself for the burning sensation as tears welled in your eyes.

You didn’t know what to say, you should be happy for him, for them. But you couldn’t muster the energy to pretend anymore, not as you felt your heart break into a million little pieces.

Ignoring Cassian’s question and the bewilderment on Evalina’s face, you turned on the spot and walked away.

*****

Sorry… 👀

#cassian x reader #cassian acotar #rhysand x reader #azriel x reader #cassian x y/n #cassian x you #cassian imagine #acotar #acofas #acomaf #acosf #acowar #rhys acotar #rhysand acotar #azriel acotar #morrigan acotar #amren acotar #marley writes

265 notes · View notes

restless-mama · 1 month

Text

Sol Exposed

Back at it again! Encouraged by my beloved friends from the 14DWY Discord server (I love yall!), I decided to write Sol (from The Kid at the Back, visual novel) fic. Sol belongs to @fantasia-kitt and Christine belongs to me. Female pronouns and etc are used. THIS FIC CONTAINS SPOILERS TO TKAB!

Summary wise, sometimes you just can't do what you want and think you can get away with it! Christine finds out what her crush has done to her and she wants to get even. She exposes him in at least three ways. His naughty deeds, his body, and his feelings.

Warnings: Stalking, Drugs, Handcuffs, subby Sol

Banner belongs to @arklayraven

It was late but as your typical college student, Christine was tapping and clicking on her laptop as she sits at her desk browsing the internet. A glass of orange juice sitting by her laptop. Her phone lights up with a notification. Her lamp on her nightstand was still on emitting light throughout the room. It was Sol, her current crush. He wishes her goodnight and that he’ll see her tomorrow. A high pitch giggle escapes her lips while she kicks her feet a little. If only she could confess her feelings to him. Yes, she had a crush on Crowe in the beginning. She felt it would be better off if Crowe and her remained friends. Grabbing her phone, she sends a reply biding him goodnight and reminding him to not stay up so late. She was aware of him staying up in wee hours of the night, doing God knows what.

She looks through some false nails to buy since Halloween was around the corner which is her favorite holiday. Christine orders a set of false nails from an Etsy seller of the name AnastasiasNails. The set of nails were in a coffin cut set with black lace and red small false rubies as designs.

Another thing she had to order was a costume for the Halloween party her school hosted. She decided to purchase a black gothic lolita dress. It was a halter dress with a bowknot on the halter neck which exposed the rib-shaped cutout on the back. The skirt part of the dress was laced tiered ruffle. After placing her orders, she looked out of her window. The lock was still broken, and it reminded her to look at the hidden cameras she had set up in her apartment. Some of her laundry has gone missing, like her favorite pair of panties. Also, items disappearing and reappearing around her house. Then there were a few mornings with some dried substance on her stomach. A few times she notices bruises on her neck and/or collar bone. However, she doesn’t remember a thing.

Christine pulls up the footage as her fingers wrapped around the cold glass of orange juice. She sip from the glass that consists of the fruity, tangy drink. Her finger clicking on the mouse to fast forward on the video. Suddenly she stops and watches to see someone climbing through her window with the broken lock. Her brown eyes widen and swallows hard. A surge of anxiety and fear coursed through her body as she continues to watch the hooded figure walked out of her room. Her eyes darts over to the camera recording that was in her kitchen.

Her brown eyes studied the figure and noticed how tall he was. He was most definitely taller than her which she was only 5’5”. She watches in horror as the figure opened her fridge door to take out her orange juice and twist open the top. Then they took out a pill that looked very familiar, opened the capsule and dropped the powdery medication into her juice. Christine drops the glass that she was drinking out of, onto the ground. She watches in silent horror as she realizes her drink has been spiked. No wonder why she has been sleeping so well lately.

“Son of a bitch!” Christine curses as she stands up. Her body was shaking a little from what she has watched. She was about to move to grab a nearby towel to dry the orange juice off the carpet, until the figure’s face caught her attention. The brunette stands there in shock and turns her head back to her laptop screen. Their eyes looks very familiar... They were orangey-red.

“No...” Christine whispers. She knew who those eyes belonged to. ‘He... he wouldn’t... would he?’ The brunette thought her herself.

The spilled juice was longed forgotten. The young college student sits back down and continues to go through the footage. He does leave her apartment but comes back late at night when she was in bed, asleep. Once again, he sneaks in through her window. She watches him pick up her arm and drop it, confirming that she was in a deep, drugged sleep. He pushed his hood down to reveal his black hair with green highlights and his mask was pushed down under his chin. It was indeed Sol. In the footage, he kisses her face close to her lips. He strokes her hair, tucking a strand of her messy dark brown and red hair behind her ear. She watches him suckling her neck, creating the mysterious bruises, which she realizes were hickies. Then the unthinkable happens. How could he...? He was so kind to her. So protective and caring.

Christine watches in shock and....arousal? She couldn’t believe she was getting turned on by the sight of Sol doing this to her while she slept. This type of behavior wasn’t acceptable for normal standards, yet she could not deny the surge of pleasure course through her veins as she watched him. The tip of her tongue darts out and laps her top lip, imagine how he would taste. Perhaps she was just as crazy as him... Maybe... She should get even.

~*~

With little effort, it didn’t take much lure Sol back to her apartment. They both had an assignment to finish anyways. Christine, being such a lady, offered Sol something to drink. Once they finished their refreshments, they retreated to her bedroom. Christine sat down in her chair as the taller man sat down on her bed as he drew her. She could feel his red-orange eyes trace every bit of her body. Her heart pounded in her chest as she keeps it together as she suppresses the need to make him beg. It’s only a matter of time now.

Sol wipes the sweat off his brow as he notices he has gotten hotter than usual. A surge of lust rans through his veins. He forwards his brows as his eyes bore into his drawing of his beloved. He usually could control his urges when he’s near her. Something was wrong. His heart begins to beat faster, and his pants felt a little too tight against his body. His body is getting hotter by the minute.

“Sol...?” Christine’s voice could be heard, and the artist looks towards the direction of the voice. He jumps and gasps as he realizes she was inches away from him. His face becomes more flustered. Another surge of pleasure rushed through his body, especially his member. How did she get so close? When did she get so close? The brunette couldn't help but giggle, he noticed the tone of it was more... menacing.

The brunette moves in closer to him. Her lips inches from his lips. “Are you okay...? My little stalker?” Christine confronts him. His eyes widen in shock.

“Fuck...!” He whispers. Before he can explain himself, she presses her lips against his in a passionate kiss. His pencil and sketch book drops to the carpet floor as she pushes him down onto her bed. Her hips rolls against his member through the fabric of their pants. This earns a muffled groan from the taller man. Seizing the opportunity, she got a hold of his arms and handcuffs him to the bed frame.

Sol looks up in shock at his the woman above him. “Christine... let me-” A delicate finger pressed on his lips shushing him from explaining himself. Christine staddles his hips rubbing her groin against him earning a moan from the man below her. His skin was so sensitive and hot. Her scent on her bed was driving him insane more than usual. He wondered what was going on. Then it dawned on him that he didn’t get like this after he drank something she gave him. No... his own beloved couldn’t do this right? She wasn’t capable? Or was he wrong?

The woman on top of him breaks the kiss. "I added a little something to your drink... Just like you did mine but mine is an aphrodisiac.” Christine giggles. She looks down at him with her caramel eyes full of mischief. “I put hidden camera around my apartment Sol... I know everything... And now, it’s my turn to have my fun with you~” Her soft hands moves under his shirt, pushing it up as she touches his tone torso. As if her touch left a trail of fire in her wake. Her fingers reach to his pierced nipples and strokes them with her fingers.

“Ahhh! Christine!” Sol pants out with his face flushed with red, choking down his moans, trying to remain quiet. He was panting and sweat formed on his forehead. His eyes half-lidded and full of desire.

“Someone’s very sensitive, aren’t they?” Christine said seductively and playfully, “Tell me Sol...” She darts her tongue out and swirls her tongue around his pierced nipple causing him to squirm and whimper uncontrollably, “Is this what you wanted me to do to you? To take this big cock of yours?” Her hand undoes his pants and pulls out his thick, long member and strokes it very slowly. She had to admit... She was impressed by the length and size of his erection.

The green haired artist looks up at his beloved with a mixture of shock and desire. He hadn’t expected her to be so brazen and forward. “Yes.... Yes! This is what I wanted...” Sol whines out as his throbbing cock leaks precum onto her hand. His own obsession with her was bad enough but with the aphrodisiac running through his veins took it to the next level. Without any hesitation, she pulls off his pants and boxers off.

“You’re so hard for me...” Christine teases. She sits on her heels and lowers her head over his veiny member, which still leaking with precum. Her lips parted around his wide cock and sucks off his salty seed. She sticks her tongue out and traces the thick veins on his member. Sol’s eyes roll back into his head as he feels Christine’s wet tongue swirling around the over sensitive tip of his cock. He could feel shivers down his spine while his body becomes overloaded with pure pleasure.

All he could think of was her. Her scent. Her touch. Those lustful yet mischievous, caramel eyes. His fantasies were becoming a reality, but this exceeded his expectations. “Oh fuck, Chris...” Sol gasps between labored breaths, his eyes hazy and burning with desire. “You make me feel so goddamn good...”

His needy words and pleas were music to her ears. The brunette could feel the surge of arousal shoot down her clit. Christine takes his cock into her mouth sucking him in and taking him deeper into her mouth. Her brown eyes shot up at him to meet his red-orange eyes, maintaining eye contact as she sucks his dick. Sol watches Christine takes his throbbing member deeper into her mouth, swallowing his erection with ease. He gasps loudly at the sight, like he was in a trace. He finds himself utterly captivated by her beauty and the way she seems to relish having power over him. His hips buck involuntarily, driven wild by her experienced oral skill. She takes him deeper in her mouth and into her throat, deep throating him. She swallows, causing her throat to squeeze around him, earning a straggled moan from Sol.

Suddenly, Christine pulls away. A mix of frustration and confusion could be seen in his eyes as he watches her pull away. “W-why did you stop?” He whines between heavy pants.

The corner of her lips tugs upward into a smirk as Christine gives Sol a seductive look. Her hand reaches down to the hem of her tight red shirt and slowly pulls it off revealing her breasts in a black lacy bra. She could hear him tug hard against the cuffs. Metal clashing metal. He lets out a long ragged, breath and looks at her hungrily, unable to contain the raw lust burning through his body. His mouthwatering. His eyes never leaving her body as she slowly undresses in front of him. She removes her bra, releasing her breasts from the confines which earns a breathy gasp from him. Her hand finds her hair tie on the end of her brain and removes it, letting her brown and red hair free from the messy braid.

“Oh God... Pumpkin..” Sol pants as watches her remove her black ripped jeans and panties. Just looking at her nude body, his face was burning from lust and desire. “You’re so beautiful... Please Christine. Take the cuffs off. Let me touch you. I need to touch you.” The green haired handsome man begged. His voice was hoarse. His eyes never left her nude body. They always reminded her of lava and she could feel the heat of his gaze burn onto her skin.

“No...” Christine denies him and straddles him, rubbing her wet cunt on the underside of his shalf. Sol trembles beneath her and whimpers out her name. She had to admit, her name coming out of his mouth sounded like music to her ears. “You been a very, very bad boy, Sol... I think I’m going to make you beg for forgiveness.” She rolls her hips slow against his throbbing member, earning a needy moan from him. “Or I won’t let you cum.”

“Fuucckkkk.....!” Sol cried out low as he pulled hard against the cuffs in desperation again. Metal raddles against one another. His body quivers in need. His aching cock was getting harder and hard to the point where it began to hurt as his body reaches to its limits. It needed a release. He HAVE to cum. He couldn’t even think to control himself any longer. His mind clouded by what his body needed. Their eyes met once again, and she could see his pupils blown wide with desire.

“I’m sorry Christine! Please...” Her stalker chokes out, “I’ll do anything! Anything! Just please, please! Make me come... Let me come!”

Christine giggles lowly. “So needy and desperate...” She teases him, “You look so cute when you’re at my mercy...”

Before he could respond, the brunette slips him inside of her warm cunt, earning a throaty groan from the man beneath her. A gasp escapes her lips as his wide cock stretches her pussy walls. Perhaps she may have underestimated his size. Christine forwards her brows and bites her lower lip as she takes all him inside her. Sol watched her intensely and couldn’t help but chuckle.

“Guess I’m a lot more to handle than you thought, huh?” Sol pants out still flustered and desperate yet still able to give her a smug grin. Christine narrows her caramel eyes at him. She pulls herself up until his tip was barely in, she slams down hard in a fast motion taking all of him again.

“Fuck!” Sol lets out a surprised yelp as his soulmate slams down onto him with force. The cuffs rattle once again as he yanks against them again. His head is thrown back onto her pillows, inhaling her sweet floral scent. God... She smelled divine to him. Her walls tighten hard around him, giving him a hard squeeze before as she starts to move up and down his veiny cock. Suddenly she slams down onto him again and they both let out a moan. Her fingers find his pierced nipples and begin to stroke them as she rides him. She kept her pace unexpected and erratic, driving him into her cunt.

“Ohhhh fuck...! Pumpkin... You feel so fucking good..” Sol rasped out with his eyes hazy, his face still red, and his mouth slightly agape, drool starting to hang out from the corner of his lips. Christine couldn’t help but moan as his thick girth rubs her sensitive walls in the right places. He was the thickest she had ever taken.

“Ahhh...” She pants, “You know... You could have asked. I might have said yes... Instead of drugging me...” She whispers as she slams her cunt up and down his cock. She begins to increase her pace, bouncing wildly on him. It was pushing him towards the edge.

“I know... Ahhh...” Sol moans as his eyes roll to the back of his head, “I’m sorry, Christine...” He sounds sincere even though he sounds so fucked out of his mind. He could feel her warm juices which are mixed with his pre-cum flow down his cock and balls. His balls tighten as he draws near his climax. It didn’t help that she was near her own peak and her walls became tighter and tighter than before.

“Ahhhh... Fuuuccckkkk...” He groans lowly. His eyes find her face and a surge of pleasure shoots down his hard cock. Before him was his beloved with her face contorted in bliss with her puffy lips parted. Her eyes half lid as she rides him in abandonment. That sight alone threw him over the edge. “Christine...! I’m going to cum!” Sol bucks his hips up wildly to meet her pace, trying to catch his high. They began to move in sync causing both parties to cry out in pleasure. His balls tighten. He could feel the intense pleasure coursing through his veins. His back arches as he releases a torrent of his pent-up seed inside her tight walls. Christine was not far behind him. She moans out sweetly as she cums hard against him member. Her walls gripping him like a vise, milking every drop of his seed. His name leaves her lips as a whisper.

“I love you, Christine! I love you so much...” Sol whimpers out his confession as he rides out his orgasm. He could feel the heat leaving him a little. It seems that the aphroditic was wearing out. Just a little.

“Y-you love me?” The brunette breaths out, trying to catch her breath. Her warm caramel eyes looks down to catch his hazy gaze. It was time for Christine to become flushed. Her heart pounding against her chest. “Why didn’t you just say so...?”

Sol sighs and looks at the woman on top of him, “Shit I don’t know... You looked like you have a crush on Crowe.” He said Crowe’s name with such venom. Was he jealous all along?

“I had a crush on Crowe.” Christine corrected him and crossed her arms, squeezing her tits together. “Past tense, Sol... Besides, I have a crush on you.”

“Wait... What?” Sol couldn’t believe his ears. She then slowly pulls herself off him which makes him whimper out in disappointment.

“You heard me... Now let me uncuff you.” Christine said as she moved to take the key from under her other pillow and uncuffs him. She assumed that he was done and the aphrodisiac had wore off. However, once the cuffs were off, Sol’s large hands were on her waist, and he gently pushes her down onto her bed. A gasp escapes the woman’s lips as the green haired man pins her down by her wrist. Her brown and red hair scattered on her bed. A blush forms on her shocked face. Sol growls lowly at the sight of her. He could feel his blood rushes down to loins, making his member erect once again.

Her caramel brown eyes meets his red-orange ones which are filled with so much burning desire. She could just simply melt in his gaze. She can’t deny her own desire, especially being held down by him. Sol leans in, their lips just inches from one another. She could feel his hot breath against her cheek. His short green hair tickling her skin. "What happened? You were so bold earlier...” He teases and whispers lowly, “Or you like being held down do you?”

Before Christine could answer, Sol crushes his lips against her roughly. His cold lip piercings rubbing against her soft lips. She parts her lips, allowing his tongue in as they both kissed passionately. Then she felt the cold metal of her own hand cuffs being applied on her wrist. All she could do was just submit to his power. They continue their heated, passionate kiss until they both break away to breathe. They both pants and gazed into each other's eyes. Sol then pulls away to sit on his heel and removes his two shirts, along with the long black key necklace he had on. After tossing them aside, he lowers his head down to one of her nipples and suckles it into his mouth.

A sharp gasp was heard followed by a moan as he swirls his tongue around the bulb. Her body arches back. She felt his hand slip down between her legs, his index finger rubbing against her entrance, teasing her and smearing his cum around. Christine moans and squirms beneath him. Sol releases her nipple with a loud “pop” then parts her thighs with his large hands. He growls in delight as he admires his own cum leaking out of her cunt. His member growing harder at such a delectable sight.

“Fuck... You look so cute when you’re filled up with my cum...” He groans lowly as he rather his own seed with his own fingers and pushes them into her pussy making Christine cry out in pleasure.

“Sol!” Christine cries out. She could feel her falls stretch to accommodate his thick fingers. His fingers begin to stroke her sensitive walls making her throw her head back in pleasure. Her hips roll to meet his thrusts until he pulls his digits out of her and brings them to her puffy lips. She obediently parts her lips, letting him push his fingers into her mouth. Her tongue swirls around the digits to lick and then suck off the cum off his fingers. Once they were licked clean, he pulls them out of her mouth as a string of saliva was still attached from her tongue and his wet fingers.

The green haired men then push his fingers back into her wet cunt and curls his fingers repeatedly, searching her sensitive spot. A sharp inhaled gasp was heard from the brunette. She was never able to find her own g-spot with her own fingers, but it seems Sol’s fingers were far better. They were longer and able to reach the right spot in her cunt. Her body trembled in delight. Her back arched and she began to moan uncontrollably.

“Oh my GOD!” Christine cries out in pleasure as her tight walls tighten around. Suddenly, she cums and squirts all over his hand and forearm. Sol doesn’t let up, he continues to drive his digits into her franticly, making her soak her bed sheets beneath her. His name continues to leave her mouth in such debauch manner as she cums and squirts repeatedly.

“Ahhhh! It feels too good!” The woman whimpered and moaned wildly, uncontrollably. Her walls spasm and contract against his fingers.

“I just got started and you’re already falling apart.” Sol said lowly, a playful smirk tugged on his pierced lips as he teased her. He then lowers his mouth and stroke his tongue against her clit making Christine roll her hips. A straggled moan escapes her lips. The sounds she made were like music to Sol’s ears. He pulls out his own fingers and replaces them with his tongue, sucking and lapping up her liquid gold. She tasted so divine. She sounded like an angel to him. Just like how he imagine she would.

Christine feels his then laps up to her clit once more and suck gently onto the swollen clit. She could feel electricity courses through her body from his administrations. Shivers shooting down her spine. She gazes at him, watching him with her half-lidded lazy eyes. He could hear her pants for air. His pierced lips brush away from her clit and onto her thigh. She could feel the coolness of the small metal. Teeth gazing over the flesh, he bites down softly and sucks forming a soon to be small bruise on her thigh.

“This is how I will make you feel every night.” Sol pulls back and gazes at his mark in admiration. “That’s what you will get for being mine.” He pushes her legs up until her knees meet her chest and parts her legs with his large hands. Christine moans as she felt him rub himself over her clits and wet folds, teasing her. She makes a rasped out a desperate moan, “Please... Don’t tease me...” begged Christine. Her eyes pleading him. Her face flushed red, and her eyes barely opened.

Sol chuckles softly and slowly pushes himself in, inch by inch. He could feel her slick and wet pussy envelop him, wrapping around his thick member. Christine moans softly as she involuntarily contracts her walls around him, pulling him in deeper.

“S-shit... you’re so tight...” Sol growls lowly as his cock is swallowed by her warmth. Unable to contain his desire, he quickly pulls back until his tip only remained and drives his thick member deep inside of her wet folds with one forceful thrust. The brunette cries out in bliss as he filled her completely. His hips begin to move rhythmically, thrusting himself into her tight walls again and again, fucking her hard and making her scream in pleasure. “And you’re all mine. Mine to take. Mine to fuck.”

“Yes.. Yes! I’m yours... Only yours! Please don’t stop! Harder. Sol.... Harder!” Christine moans out loudly as he obeys her command and buries himself into her in an unrelenting tempo. His name leaves her lips repeatedly like a prayer, making his heart swell with emotion. She gazes up at his face and her heart flusters at such a delectable sight. His face was contorted in pleasure. Sweat drips down from his brow. Some of the ends of his green hair wet from sweat, sticking against his cheek. A blush was formed on his face. His mouth a gape as he pants. His eyes sadly shut. She wanted to see those beautiful, lust filled red-orange eyes of his.

Her hand shot up and placed on his cheek, stroking it. He snaps his eyes open at the sudden touch, recalling that he did cuff her. Apparently, she quietly uncuffed herself earlier. “Keep your eyes open Sol... Let me see those beautiful eyes of yours. I want you to remember how I look while you fuck me...” She purrs.

Her words cause a surge a desire to run through his veins as it adds more fuel to need to please her. Sol places on of his large hands on her shoulder and one on waist. HE holds her in place as he slams into her wet folds in pure reckless abandonment, giving into his primal instincts. Christine's eyes rolls to the back of her head and cries out his name. Her hand slips off his cheek and onto his shoulder, digging her nails in. The sounds of skin colliding, along with lust filled noises from the couple could be heard throughout the room.

“I’m cumming!” Christine moans out, her walls tighten hard around him earning a low growl from Sol. Her cunt gripped him like a vise and then she squirts all over his member and his groin.

“Fuck!” Sol chokes out as his pace becomes brutally fast as he chases after his own orgasm. The scent from her sticky fluids overwhelmed his senses. Her tight walls tighten around his thick cock, driving him to the edge. He thrusts into her once more until he unleashes a torrent of his seed into the warm, wet pussy and sending himself in a lust filled Eupora. “I love you Christine! You’re mine... All mine!”

They both gasp and pants to catch their own breath, trying to normal their breathing. Sol then buries his face into her neck, nuzzling her. “Mine...” He breaths.

“Yours... just like you’re mine...” Christine whispers in his ear as she runs her fingers in his green hair.

~Later~

Christine runs her fingers through her wet hair, applying her hair product into her hair in front of the bathroom mirror. Her black towel wrapped securely around her torso. Sol was still taking a shower. At first he didn’t want to take a shower, stating that he wanted her dried fluids to remain on him which earned a look from Christine. He eventually relented and agreed to a shower. Christine went first and once she was done, Sol have already put on new bed sheets after removing the ones that were stained with their fluids. She felt so embarrassed but Sol reassured her that he just simply wanted to take care of her.

The sound of water being cut off could be heard, indicating that Sol was done taking a shower. He steps out and dries himself off with one of Christine’s extra towels. He steps in in view of the mirror and dries his green hair. Christine’s brown caramel eyes traced his naked form in the reflecting surface. His body was slim but toned. His tight muscle flexing in his arms. She also notices a good number of old bruises that have faded to yellow.

“Enjoying the view, pumpkin?” Sol said playful, shooting a smirk at the mirror as he dries the side of his head. Christine blushes and drops her gaze. She grabs her perfume to spray on her wrist, as he chuckles behind her. As she rubs fragrance on her wrist and neck, Sol wraps his arms around her from behind and bends down slightly to rest his on her shoulder to nuzzle her neck. She could feel his bare chest on her back, his hot breath on her neck.

“Hmm...” He inhales her scent, rubbing her nose against her tender flesh. “No wonder why you always smelled so good...”

Christine could feel him getting semi-hard and she elbows him gently. “Behave yourself. Sol.”

A low chuckle emits from his throat, and he kisses her temple. “For now... But I’m pretty sure you’re hungry. What does my soulmate wanna eat?”

“Soulmate, huh?” Christine giggling and turns around to wrap her arms around his neck, pulling him close, “Surprise me. I always enjoy your cooking. Just don’t spike my orange juice again...”

Sol laughs and picks her up to kiss her lips. He knows that she’s not going to let him hear the end of it.

#the kid at the back vn #tkatb vn #tkatb sol #tkatb oc #solivan brugmansia #the kid at the back #tkatb

177 notes · View notes