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catscidr · 12 days

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// taking care of your dogboy (hsr edition!) //

i. note — sry i havent been posting yall i got a job + ive been working on three cosplays at the same time bc my local con is coming up lmao (´ཀ`」 ∠) however the brainrot never stops. it only takes a break. a little break of approximatively. a month. ish. ......... anyways dog hybrid hsr boys brainrot !!! lmk if we want more of this with more boys •ᴗ• comments and asks are appreciated hehe ii. includes — blade, gepard, boothill and gn!reader iii. cw — slice of life stuff turning into smut, possessive behaviour, overstim, slight dom/sub dynamics, real messy stuff, manhandling. use of the word "hole" to keep reader gender neutral iv. wc — 1,9k

blade is a mutt riddled in scars and dirty bandages from living on the streets and fighting to survive.

you think he might be some german shepherd mix, but he refuses to let you swab his teeth n gums for a dna test (last time you tried you narrowly avoided a punch to the face. he apologized in his own way afterwards), so whenever people ask, just say he’s a rescue to avoid revealing that you actually just… don’t really know what breed he is. they usually drop the subject and simply go on their merry way, seeing as he wasn’t the type of pup to appreciate affection from strangers anyways– it’s rare for you to leave the house in the first place, though.

you had to switch to a remote job because blade is just so persistent when it comes to you. although possessive is a much better descriptor, because he doesn’t let anyone near you. whenever you leave to get groceries he ends up practically breathing down your neck from how close he gets— acting as if he were your literal shadow— glaring at everyone that gets too close to you. you’ve made it a habit to always go to self-checkout lane so blade doesn’t scare off the cashiers.

the second you get home he’s all over you, determined to rid you of that outside stench and replace it with his own. you started packing your grocery bags in a way that nothing will break if (read: when) you suddenly drop them on the floor, all because you’re so familiar with blade’s impatience.

he holds you still by engulfing your body with his, knees caging your hips as he grinds into you, shallow and deep. blade’s growls and huffs fill your ears just as much as his cock fills your hole, his knot kissing your tightness from the outside.

“do you like this? like how i have to fuck you every time you decide to go outside again when you could stay here,” with me blade omits, his tail swishing back and forth on the bedsheets behind him, the sound just barely grounding you to reality.

your grocery bags were long forgotten on the foor (as they usually are), your mind too foggy to function. clawing at the sheets, you try to crawl away from blade’s grip— to no avail.

he tuts, craning his head to bite down onto the skin where your shoulder meets your neck. “i might just need to mark you for extra precaution,” he bucks into you, knocking the air out of your lungs. you hear squelching, the constant plap! plap! plap! from his thighs smacking against your ass and whine, broken babbles leaving your kiss-bruised lips.

“b-blade, y’can’t- ah,” he shushes you by plugging you full of his lengthy cock, his knot almost threatening to press inside of you. you whimper, feeling lightheaded from a mix of both nervousness and arousal.

he soothes the hickey he left on your neck, licking it languidly as he stills to bask into the way your hole throbs around him. warm and tight and oh so tempting.

“shit, wanna fill you. wanna… have everyone know they can’t have you. you’re mine, mine to love ‘n mine to fuck,” you’re not lucid enough to process his thinly veiled confession, too busy writhing your ass back against him in a feeble attempt to get him to continue moving.

you might want to invest into some good concealer or into those skin coloured tattoo patches to cover the bruises and bite marks blade’ll leave on you if you want to continue being a functioning member of society. you can’t really be walking around in public as if a dog had just mauled you right before you left the house, can you?

gepard is a golden retriever because of COURSE he is. similarly to blade, he likes to invade your personal space a lot— not because he’s possessive, but because he’s extremely protective of you.

the random bruises you used to randomly notice on your body faded as soon as he came into your life. gepard’s soft, lingering touches healed them; gently placing a hand on your hip before you bump into sharp furniture so it doesn’t hit you, redirecting your head to his shoulder as you nod-off in the train before you bang your head, and so on.

it’s a full-time job and he’s working 24/7, always on the lookout for anything that could possibly hurt you as you saunter off… wherever, without a care in the world— because he took care of everything!

he would clean the apartment for you, cook (though you usually insist you do the cooking; a human doesn’t have the same taste in food as a hybrid), and even act as your own personal alarm clock. gone were the days of being woken up by loud, blaring beeping. gepard woke you up with forehead kisses instead, making your mornings much more pleasant.

but poor geppie, he’s always taking care of you; so take care of him, won’t you?

every so often you’ll sit in his lap to help him get rid of whatever stress he held in his body. your hands will knead at the muscles in his broad shoulders, all while you simultaneously kiss away the strain in his face. his brows are furrowed as you do your best to soothe his muscles; you never forget to smooch his cheek, nose and the corner of his lips.

though the attention and gentle acts of affection always ends with your hands lower than they should be.

“ah ah, no touching, remember?” you murmur in his ear playfully. you had been at it for what felt like hours; gepard’s cock and abdomen was smeared with the remnants of his cum, skin tacky from his previous loads. your hand shows no sign of stopping, not even when he begged oh so sweetly.

“c-come onn. just… jus’ wanna kiss…” and who were you to deny your sweet boy? your lips find his in a heartbeat, his tongue swiping over your own sloppily as he breathes you in like a depraved man.

the only condition you had when you did this was for him to keep his hands to himself— at least until you both decide to move on to something else. until then, his fists clench the sheets beneath the both of you, and his ears stay flat on his fluffy head.

“i’m… i’m close again, g- aah, please, please…!” he begs, cock weeping precum as you continuously jerk him off. you smile, absentmindedly rocking your hips to the rhythm you held him prisoner to— gepard was too engulfed in the warmth of your hand to notice, anyways. “cum whenever you want sweet boy,” you purr, and he keens as he buries his face in your neck, his hips lifting off the bed ever so slightly as they meet your hand and he thrusts, riding the high of his orgasm.

sticky cum coats your hand for the nth time; you relent your grip on his cock for his sake, instead choosing to shower him with chaste kisses all over his face. gepard whines, taking ahold of your waist weakly as he breathes into the crook of your neck.

“geppie, your han-“ he cuts you off, swiftly switching positions so you’re now laying on your back as he hovers over you, chest rising and falling quickly, catching his breath from the intensity of his orgasm. gepard’s tail wags slowly behind him as his hands creep up from your waist to your chest just as slowly- you feel his cock harden against your pelvis, precum spilling from his pinky tip.

“‘ts my turn now,” he huffs, leaning down to nip at your neck.

boothill is the most obnoxious dalmatian hybrid you’ve ever seen (not that you’ve seen many, or at all). but he’s made your life so fun so you can’t be too mad at him

he’s always dragging you out of bed to go do something— could be going to the park nearby or sit in the living room playing video games on your dusty console, it doesn’t matter because he’ll MAKE you step out of your cozy nest!!

you’re glad he’s friendly, because you’re not sure how you would handle such an excited hybrid when you left the house. people come up to the both of you to chat and he indulges their questions, essentially leading the conversation (while you stand there awkwardly, not knowing what to say).

boothill is also great with kids, unexpectedly. 9 times out of 10 when you go to the park he ends up playing with someone’s child, bright smile on his face as he messes up their hair with a rough hand. they’ll throw a frisbee for him to go catch and he’ll do it happily, or he’ll even… teach them how to beat people up.

(you stare mortified as he teaches a little girl how to throw a proper punch only for her to then punch her parent when she leaves boothill’s side. you go up to them and apologize profusely, forcing boothill to bow with you.)

he also loves to help you out, even though he’s not the greatest at household chores— but he definitely tries! though he is a stellar cook, which never fails to surprise you whenever he’s on dinner duty. he just… really sucks at everything else.

it’s… mostly because he just has so much energy. he sweeps the floor? nope, he’s picking off the pieces of the broom off of the floor because he accidentally broke it. he’s fixing your bed? nuh uh, you’re throwing out the ruined bedsheets because he accidentally tore them to shreds somehow.

so, with all of these accidents happening because he’s just brimming with energy 24/7, you started purposely exhausting him. or, rather, gave him the green light to exhaust you until he tires himself out.

“booth-aah, w-wait, you’re being too…!” you fall over on top of his hard chest, keening at the new angle his cock reached inside of you. he repeated his assault on the spot that made you see stars as your jaw gaped, broken moans leaving your lips.

“don’t tell me y’re tapping out.. haa, already!” boothill grunts, his grip on your hips tightening. he throws his head back with a loud moan, abs tensing as he nears yet another climax— the 5th one of the night. maybe, maybe not. you lost count after the third one.

you bury your face into the crook of his neck, focusing on the feeling of his cock plugging you full instead of the soreness, the burn in your muscles that came from your knees holding you up on his lap.

watching you riding him will always be his favourite thing in the world, even if he always ends up fucking up into you and taking back control at the end of the night.

“gonna cu-uum…” you whine, clenching around his length almost painfully tightly, hearing his breathing hitch as an orgasm is ripped out of him in consequence to yours. boothill’s fingers dig into your ass, his hips lifting off the bed as he cums deep inside of your sloppy hole again, sticky fluid building up beneath the sheets.

you collapse on top of him fully, chest heaving against his own as you come back to your senses, slowly but surely. boothill’s ears perk up, hearing how your breathing had evening out.

“so… got another round in ya?”

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steviesummer · 1 year

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inspired by and as a direct follow up to this post by @strangersteddierthings:

Eddie is horrified. He remembers the day Steve is referring to, though clearly not as well as Steve does. He calls out as Steve raced up the stairs and hears his door slam.

“Fuck.” He stares blankly at the wall in front of him. He can’t believe things went so bad so quickly. He’s been trying to get to know Steve better, get closer and damn if he didn’t just blow the hole thing. He’d shown up early, told Steve he needed to prepare as an excuse to spend some time with him. Despite everything that happened over spring break, Steve had remained guarded, standoffish no matter what Eddie tried. At least now he knew why. He’d fucked things up before he’d known there was something to fuck up.

He feels even worse about calling him a bully. Sure, Steve had looked the other way and even laughed at some of the mean jokes others had made, but he was far from the worst. That dubious award went to Billy Hargrove, but even without him, there was plenty of people who did far worse than Steve did. Especially because Steve is right. He did hit first, metaphorically at least. He can justify it all he wants as trying to protect himself, but that doesn’t make it right. Steve all but admitted that as he said the same thing. He feels nauseous at the realization that maybe he was just as bad as those he decried. That for all his talk about accepting outcasts and defying convention, he was just as prejudiced. Swallowing hard, he heads back to the dining room and looks at the clock. There is no way he is going to be able to run the campaign today. He’s not going to be able to focus or even play without thinking about how things might have been if he hadn’t driven Steve off all those years ago. He grabs the phone and dials Gareth’s number. “Emerson house, Sheryl speaking.” “Hi Mrs. Emerson, it’s Eddie.” Eddie is proud that he manages to keep his voice even. “Is Gareth there?” “Oh, yes! Let me go get him for you.” “Thanks Mrs. Emerson.” Eddie focuses on breathing while he waits. “Eddie? Hey man, what’s up?” Eddie breathes out. “Hey Gareth. Look, I know its last minute, but we’re gonna have to postpone Hellfire. Something came up.” He could hear Gareth’s frown through the phone. “Postpone? What happened, did Harrington do something?” As if he couldn’t feel worse. “Nah. I’ll explain later, but can you call Jeff and Frank, let them know? I gotta call the freshman, too.” “Alright, but I’m going to hold you to that.” “Fair enough. Talk to you tomorrow.” Eddie promises before hanging up. He weighs his options for how to tell the Party. Eventually, he decides on calling Mike, know that the younger teen won’t push too much. He’s dialing the Wheeler home before he can second guess his decision. “This is Mike.” Eddie feels a rush of gratitude that Mike is the one who answered, rather than Nancy or one of their parents. “Hey Mike, it’s Eddie. Listen, Steve’s not feeling great and having Hellfire here isn’t going to help. Can you call the rest of the Party, let them know we’re gonna move it to another day? I’ll keep an eye on Steve.” Eddie knows Mike is a confused, given how adamant he’s been in the past about not canceling or moving Hellfire, but as he expected, Mike accepts what he says at face value. “Sure. Need us to bring anything?” “Nah, I’ve got it. Pretty sure he just needs some peace and quiet so he can rest. But thanks.” They say their goodbyes and Eddie puts the phone back on the hook. With that done, he checks that the door is locked and faces the stairs. Now for the hard part. He’s not sure what he’s going to say, if there is anything he can say that will fix this, but he has to try. Even if doesn’t change things between him and Steve, Steve deserves at least that much. Every step feels like it takes effort, chest heavy with guilt, but it only takes him a few moments to get to Steve’s door. It’s closed, which doesn’t surprise him. He takes a moment to gather his thoughts before knocking. Nothing. “Steve?” If it wasn’t for the quiet sound of Steve’s breathing he could hear through the door, Eddie would think he had left. He glad that he at least didn’t drive Steve out of his own home. He rests his forehead on the door. “I’m sorry.” Eddie hopes Steve can hear how much he means it. “You’re right, I fucked up. I made an assumption and took out my anger at other people on you. And that wasn’t fair and it’s not okay. But I want you to know that I’m sorry. Even if it wasn’t you, I shouldn’t have done that.” He lets out a hysterical laugh as he realizes - “And despite that, you still humor the kids when they talk about D&D and agreed to let us play here and didn’t punch me in the face, which makes you a better man than I.” He falls silent, listens as Steve’s breathing slows. He isn’t sure how long he stands there. He wonders how many other people he hurt this way, without even realizing. Knows he wants to do better, be better. He sighs, feeling his shoulders slump. “Anyway, I canceled Hellfire for today. I told everyone something came up, don’t worry about that. I’ll make up some story, make sure they know its not your fault. And uh, let me know if you want to hang out again or something. I know I’ve been around a lot; didn’t realize that I was making you so uncomfortable, which is probably another thing I should apologize for. Anyway. Yeah. I’ll see you around, okay?” He waits a moment for an answer, but when none comes, he backs away from the door and walks downstairs to gather his stuff. It hurts, but he knows Steve deserves space and to be the one to initiate contact. He has some thinking to do, anyway.

#steddie #my writing #fic #legit read that fic like 6 times in a row and had to write a follow up #have a handful of extra pieces as well #or thoughts anyway #like steve telling eddie about christopher #and eddie helping steve make a character and play in the future #after lots of talking and eventually getting together #his character is a dwarf paladin named after christopher #i haven't written in forever this felt so good #barely proofread so apologies for any mistakes

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brookheimer · 1 year

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not sure why people don't seem to understand that shiv being the victim of misogyny and vitriol from all the men in her life can and does coexist with the fact that she is not a feminist liberal hero fighting to save democracy. why is it that we never afford her any nuance? she's either the only good person on the show and deserves to kill every man in a ten foot radius (twitter) or a uniquely evil cruel sociopath with no heart fueled entirely by spite (reddit). is it not just so much more interesting for her to be a fascism aiding and abetting character like the rest of them who also views herself as more progressive in spite of everything else about her and who undergoes horrific treatment at the hands of the men around her yet has no interest in undoing the system that allows them to do so, only in ruling it herself? shiv is not any better than the others nor is she any worse than them. there's no Evil Olympics here guys, nor should there be. snook said it herself in the after credits sequence -- shiv was just lucky that her interests aligned with her sympathies. who knows what she would've done had mencken been her best personal option? yes she cares infinitely more about politics than roman, yes she is still very much interested in maintaining the capitalist, fascist structure and even strengthening it, so long as it ends with her on top (which either way would be a win for liberal causes bc Woman). fascism isn't one-size-fits-all. it's not just mencken and trump. it's also mattson. it's also logan. it's also roman and shiv and kendall. that's... kind of one of the main points of succession? but even so, that does not negate the fact that as a woman it is so hard to watch some of the scenes with her and tom/roman/kendall -- of course that misogyny will resonate with female viewers, as it should!!! but that resonance needs to coexist with a deeper understanding of her character -- if you want to root for a bad bitch fighting against misogyny go watch, i don't know, captain marvel or whatever. what makes shiv interesting is that she's so so so much more than that -- she is the product, victim, and perpetrator of misogyny and fascism, two concepts so heavily intertwined they're virtually inextricable from each other. tl;dr it's one thing to be like my god someone give shiv a gun and it's another entirely to say, entirely seriously, that shiv is the Good Liberal Feminist One and the rest are all evil. like i absolutely adore shiv but i would honest to god find her so fucking boring if she were actually the person these tweets make her out to be i'm sorry

#me: shiv isn't evil! \ everyone: oh so she's the only good one?#me: shiv isn't good! \ everyone: oh so she's the only evil one?#NUANCE GUYS. IT EXISTS.#honestly i just don't get it. how are you all not just like bored by the versions of these characters you've created #all this being said. every man that called shiv hysterical tonight should be shot and killed.#<3 #succession #succession spoilers #casey shut the fuck up about shiv roy #shiv roy #long post #100 #500 #1000 #dude if i thought this would get notes i would’ve proofread it first. LMAO #like this is literally a word vomit ramble that i didn’t even read before posting . embarrassing 4 me #this time on posts i didn’t expect to get notes

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twstgarden · 3 months

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✰ ❝ 𝗱𝗼𝗿𝗺𝗶𝘁𝗼𝗿𝘆 𝗽𝗿𝗼𝗽𝗲𝗿𝘁𝘆 ❞

━ yan! octavinelle trio / yan! scarabia duo / yan! pomefiore trio x gn! reader (f/n means first name) (reader can be yuu or an oc) ━ certain friends on campus have started to be a little overbearing. to the point where they won't let you leave their dormitory so easily.

cw: (including but not limited to) yandere themes, unhealthy relationships/obsessions, use of drugs, mentions of drugging/spiking, captivity, kidnapping, mentions of curse/poisoning, love bombing/acts of manipulation

requested by: @mx.lustreless request type: scenarios requester’s message: Not mucy to say, just a bunch of yandere scenarios, I'm not sure if you're still taking requests but i guess you still are? You can get creative :> florist’s note: thank you for the request and for filling out the form!

this work may contain spoilers from chapters 3, 4, and 5, octavinelle, scarabia, and pomefiore's arcs respectively.

do not steal or translate without my permission.

ko-fi here if you want to support me

━ 𝙤𝙘𝙩𝙖𝙫𝙞𝙣𝙚𝙡𝙡𝙚 ━

"ah, if it isn't prefect!"

you took a deep breath, exhaling it softly as you gave azul a forced smile the moment he laid eyes on you again. you did not want to return to mostro lounge again due to the uncomfortable vibes you have been getting, but you had no choice as your friend dragged you to have an afternoon snack in this private café.

"hello..." you mumbled in reply, avoiding his gaze with a clear indication that you wanted to leave as soon as possible. however, your friend was already ordering a drink as jade jotted down the orders on a notepad.

his sharp eyes then looked at you with that grin on his face, "and you? dear f/n?" your friend then looked at you with a smile, making you look back at the menu as you replied, "um... i won't order for now."

"are you not hungry?" your friend asked, tilting their head before sighing, "we've been in class all day and i did not see you eat! you should have something..."

then, your friend decided to place an order for you, and jade merely smiled as he wrote down the drinks and/or meals for you both. you breathed a sigh of relief the moment he, his twin, and his boss left your table.

"you seem tense," noted your friend.

"i'm just tired..." you lied, smiling a little at them.

initially, you enjoyed the atmosphere of the mostro lounge and it has always been your go-to spot after class and during the weekends. you have grown used to the trio's presence and considered them as close friends.

however, the longer you kept visiting them, the more you've noticed how odd they've been acting.

they won't let you leave easily, even if it is past the closing time.

azul has been trying to get you to sign a contract, claiming it was harmless and he would never cheat a "friend".

jade has been trying to feed you mushrooms that he found during his hike, claiming that they were safe to eat and he even added special ingredients. only the seven knows what drug or potions he has been pouring into his meals made for you.

floyd was also trying to feed you meals made by him, as well as trying to drag you around wherever he went, disguising it as a form of hang out despite his "threats" on your attempts to leave.

maybe they just want to spend time with me, is what you thought, but day by day, you have been slowly proven wrong with how close they are at times.

you snapped out of your thoughts the moment floyd served your dishes and drinks. your friend was ecstatic as they quickly dug into their meal, while you looked up to see floyd smiling down at you in an innocent way, but there was a hint of something ominous behind that smile.

"here's your food, shrimpy!"

you gulped and mumbled, "thanks..." looking down at your meal, nothing seemed out of the ordinary. it looks exactly as it does on the menu, and the drinks did not have anything suspicious on them — or at least, that's what you think.

your friend was happily enjoying their food. seeing how relaxed they were gave you relief - at least the food or drink wasn't drugged. a soft sigh left your lips as you started to have your meal, enjoying the taste despite the unreadable expression on your face.

you can feel their stares. their eyes watch you with a daunting gaze, and even if they were not in your peripheral vision, you knew they were settled by the bar, watching you like a hawk.

you could have called them out or reported their suspicious behaviour, no? but why? they were your friends. they would never do anything to harm you. you weren't sure if it was some form of coping mechanism or if you still held some trust for them deep down, but all you knew was the guilt that continuously seeped into your mind at the thought of reporting their behaviour to the faculty staff.

you were afraid, but you still trust them. azul always had a way of messing with your psychological thoughts, and the twins were there to back him up and manipulate you into thinking they were only being friendly.

"oh! i left my phone at the campus, i'll be right back!" your friend spoke as they realised their cellular device was not on their person. they quickly stood up and left the lounge, leaving you alone as you tried to reach out to them, "wait-!"

but they were long too gone.

damn it.

you stayed silent for a moment, thoughts swirling in your mind as you looked back at the meal that you have been consuming for the past few minutes now.

your gaze then went to the bar to see them smiling at you. drat. you made eye contact with them and that was more than enough of an invitation to approach you.

"it seems your friend left rather abruptly," noted azul as he sat beside you with that suspicious smile of his. you merely hummed in response as floyd sat on your other side and spoke in a rather enthusiastic voice, "shrimpy! did you like the food?"

"it tastes great..." you replied, avoiding eye contact as you continued to stare at your half-eaten meal. floyd was pleased to hear you say this, making him pat your back before pulling you in for an asphyxiating hug.

you tried to pull away, patting his arm as a signal to let go and that you wanted to breathe. however, he was not letting you off, which made jade sigh as he spoke to his brother, "floyd, you are suffocating the prefect."

"oh no~ oops~!" replied floyd as he released you, but you knew he was not genuine in that little 'oops' of his. as soon as he released you, you started to feel lightheaded. your vision was blurring and doubling, and your head was throbbing in pain as you leaned on the table, unable to keep your eyes open.

the trio merely smiled as azul held you close to him and whispered, "you appear to be tired... it's alright, rest here... this is your home now..."

unable to fight back or stay awake, your eyes fluttered shut and your consciousness started slipping as you fell into a deep state of sleep. the last words you heard gave you a sense of fear, but you were now too powerless to do anything.

"we won't hurt you. we're your friends..."

━ 𝙨𝙘𝙖𝙧𝙖𝙗𝙞𝙖 ━

"but...!"

"i need to head back to my dorm, kalim..." you spoke once again, wanting to return back to your room to sleep after the energy-consuming party you just had in scarabia mere moments ago.

"we have guest rooms here!" reasoned kalim, not wanting to let you leave.

"as much as i wanted to stay, i can't... sorry..."

there was no way you'd stay in that guest room after the incident. a frown found its way to kalim's lips as jamil sighed, "kalim... we can't force them to stay." with a defeated expression, kalim unwrapped his arms around you as he spoke to you, "will you come back tomorrow?"

relief. that was what you felt the moment you thought you would be back in your room. as much as you loved hanging out with them, you wanted a shut-eye too. "yeah, of course! i'll see you tomorrow," you replied before waving goodbye to the two and leaving their dorm.

the moment you arrived at your dormitory, the first thing you greeted were your pillows. you had quickly fallen asleep and thought of nothing but getting the rest you needed. it was the weekend tomorrow, so you were free to sleep in as much as you wanted.

the next day came by quickly and you were invited for lunch at scarabia. you loved the meals they served and their hospitality has made you feel more at home than you ever felt in this academy.

everything was going splendidly. the meals were fantastic, the drinks were refreshing, and the atmosphere was lively - the perfect scenario for a weekend lunch with friends, no?

you spent hours after lunch with them; studying, reading, sharing stories about school experiences and personal lives, and whatnot. however, you started to feel drowsy around the afternoon, wanting to take a nap to preserve your energy and rest.

you have become drowsy several times lately.

of course, you thought nothing of it. you were just exhausted from all the responsibilities you had to tackle, nothing out of the ordinary. kalim seemed to have noticed your drowsy state and quickly gave you one of the sofa pillows nearby. without another word, you grabbed the pillow and laid your head on it, passing out almost immediately.

minutes turned into hours and you had woken up from your nap - although, sleep was a better term as you had been out for hours now. rubbing the drowsiness from your eyes, you let out a soft yawn and sat up, feeling the soft mattress underneath as you looked at the spot you were lying on in confusion.

'a bed? where am i...?'

you thought you were back at your dorm, but the interior was completely different from your room. that's when it hit you, you were in one of scarabia's dormitory rooms. you quickly got out of bed and ran to the door, trying to open it only to find it unlocked.

"shit..." you muttered under your breath as you looked around the room for its key, but it was nowhere to be found. you quickly banged on the door, hoping someone was outside to hear you, "is anyone there?!"

it was silent for a while until you heard a jingle of keys from the other side of the door, making you sigh in relief as you thought you were about to witness freedom, "oh thank goodness... please open the door!"

the sounds of the keys were giving you a sense of relief, and you thought they were about to unlock the door. however, only silence followed and no other sound was heard. what was going on?

"hello? is anyone there?" you called out once more, banging on the door, "please unlock the door! i don't see the key in here!"

then, a chuckle was heard on the other side of the door, giving you a sense of fear at the thought of someone purposefully locking you in here.

"you should take a rest, prefect."

that was jamil's voice. you knocked on the door again as you pleaded for your freedom, "jamil? please unlock the door!"

"you ought to keep it down. people are sleeping. we wouldn't want to wake them up now, would we?" spoke jamil as he let out a sigh, "you'll be staying in there. this is your new home now... good night."

his footsteps then started to fade as you continued banging on the door, "jamil?! let me out!!! come back!!! kalim! please!" all the relentless knocking and banging on the door were for naught as no one came to your aid.

days have passed and you barely remember much of what had happened, but you had vague memories of wanting to escape this wretched dormitory, then making the sudden decision to stay as if you were being hypnotized. they had fed you, entertained you, and took care of you during your whole stay.

they've been nothing but good to you! why would you want to leave?

why do you feel as if you are being manipulated to stay?

━ 𝙥𝙤𝙢𝙚𝙛𝙞𝙤𝙧𝙚 ━

you were frozen in place for a few hours now with only epel in the room as he got himself busy with carving apples. if you hadn't been cursed by vil's unique magic, you would have run out of the door and never looked back at this dormitory.

but alas, you have fallen for his trick and bit into an apple slice that he had cursed without your knowledge. now, you were stuck seated on this couch settled in their lounge.

"epel...?"

you called out, making the first-year pause his carving as he looked at you. how could he still look at you with an innocent gaze after being involved in your captivity?

"mm?"

"how long 'till vil's spell wears off?" you asked, hoping it would be sooner rather than later.

"30 minutes," replied epel before tilting his head, "you are not looking to escape now, are 'ya?" you quickly shook your head in response, giving him a fake enthusiastic smile, "no! no! not at all!"

"lying won't help you, chéri(e)."

you quickly turned quiet at the sound of rook's voice. his footsteps paired with another one gave you a hint that vil was in the room as well, walking towards you before the dormitory head stood before you, leaning down as he held your cheek as if to inspect your face.

rook stood beside vil as he spoke patronisingly, "mon dieu! those tear stains on your face pain my heart. why the tears?" you glared at rook as he knew exactly why you were feeling this way, but he merely smiled at you.

"we fed you, cared for you, gifted you luxurious things, helped you in all your assignments, and so much more. why are you being ungrateful?" spoke vil as he narrowed his gaze at you with a frown. you did not say a word in response, not wanting to raise their irritation and anger towards you.

vil sighed at your lack of response, "stop acting like a spoiled child."

"then set me free."

you demanded freedom, hoping they would grant it to you despite the low chances. they have given you everything, so why can't they give you the freedom you desire?

"you know we can't do that," spoke vil as you felt his hand on your cheek, caressing it with his thumb ever so slightly to give you a sense of comfort, "it's dangerous and there is nothing out there that will satisfy and love you."

"my friends—"

"your friends have long forgotten you, dear," replied vil as he cut you off, "in fact, they are glad that you are no longer interacting with them..."

you did not want to believe him, but the way he spoke to you in such a tone with that comforting caress made you stay quiet. epel and rook then sat beside you while vil gently started playing with your locks, a glint of satisfaction was evident in his eyes but you did not notice them as you were staring at the ground.

'hah! just say the right words and you'll fall into our trap once again... how naive...'

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poorly-drawn-mdzs · 1 year

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Why would you—That's not—I just wanted to ask for help, why did you have to go and make it awkward???

[First] Prev <–-> Next

#poorly drawn mdzs #mdzs #wei wuxian #xue yang #Its such a relief to not have to draw so many characters once again.#Redrawing the specific font from the English translated mdzs books was surprisingly fun!#Maybe I'm alone in this...but I think characters switching to a different font of speech for *emphasis* is peak comedy #you can't communicate voice changes of sound very well in non audio forms so this is the best I can do.#Anyways...rip Xue Yang. You finally meet your idol and he brushes you off #Rather— he doesn't live up to the expectations you built in your head #Kind of an on going issue there Jester (I refuse to call him king or sir)#XY is constantly making people out to be the versions he needed them to be to feel justified in his actions #but struggles to pivot when confronted with the fact that these ppl are *more* than just one surface reading!#wwx doesn't actually think xy is flirting. He's just tired of all the fake fans + wants to get out of this convo.#button mashing the A button to skip the unskippable cutscene #Lan Wangji is in the next comic btw. I've missed him dearly. I'm sorry he's been gone so long </3 #edit: poorly spelt MDZS strikes again. This is why I need more time to write my comics. So I can actually proofread B*(#edit2: I cast 'Power of Technology' and fixed my error. Everyone reblog this version instead please

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tahdashi · 2 years

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WHEN HIS BABY GETS JEALOUS. . .

✫ ft. akaashi, atsumu, iwaizumi, and suna x mom!reader

✫ a/n: the kids are ages 1-3 (can stand, walk, talk in sentences). the babies aren’t really “jealous” in some of these. they just want some love and affection, too !!!

✫ warnings: usage of “mom” and “mama” to refer to reader

✫ AKAASHI leans into your touch after coming home from the office, his tie loosened and his hair a bit messier than usual. you two are splayed on the couch, his head resting peacefully on your chest as he updates you on bokuto’s recent msby game. and just minutes later, you feel your son pull on your leg. an eruption of babbles leave his lips as he whines and tugs. “mmm, it’s my turn with mom,” keiji whines into your collarbones. you can't help but laugh at your husband's child-like behavior. "keiji, get off, you're gonna make him upset." and as keiji nuzzles his face in the crook of your neck, your baby breaks out into a sob, "mama! mama!" filling the small living room. keiji gets up from his place on your chest and picks your son up, mumbling "i'm sorry, bud" into his equally messy hair. "mama's all yours," he kisses the top of his head and allows him to crawl happily into your arms. "you're as whiny as your mo-" "keiji." he can't even be upset at his limited time with you — the image of you holding his entire world makes up for it.

✫ ATSUMU lingers in the kitchen after tucking your daughter in to bed just about every night. he puts dishes in the cabinets, wipes down the counter, and traps you between his arms for a moment of intimacy. "mind if i kiss ya, babe?" he asks, knowing you'll let him anyway. "you'll do it no matter what i say," you turn your head to the side, creating distance between his lips and yours. "no! i'm a gentleman! that's why ya married me, isn't it?" a laugh leaves your lips and you're stepping up onto your toes to reach his. his hands wrap around your waist, pulling you close against himself. it's been hard to find time for yourselves — your daughter was at the age where she'd walk (stumble, really) away if you took your eyes off of her for even a second. and as you pull away from the kiss, breathless and all, you hear the pitter patter of her tiny feet approaching you two. "baby, why are ya awake? can't sleep?" atsumu bends down to her level, pushing her hair back from her eyes. she rubs at them and then wraps her tiny arms around his neck to kiss his cheeks. "i want a g'night kiss too!" she whines. "alrighty, baby, ya can get as many as ya want! make sure ya give mama a kiss too," he tells her before peppering her cheeks with loving kisses.

✫ IWAIZUMI used to wake up early every morning, getting ready for the day at a slow and relaxing pace, but he finds it harder and harder to do so when you cling onto him, asking for five more minutes of peace, five minutes of calmness before the storm (the storm being your daughter, of course). she's gotten clingier with every step she could take. she wakes up with the sun and makes her way to your bed, struggling to climb up with her tiny legs. the sight of her dad's arm around your waist brings a pout to her lips, her cheeks puffing out as she whispers a "daddy?" and of course, he's awake (he's been awake for the past 15 minutes). "wanna come up?" he asks her before unwrapping his arms from your body and lifting her onto his broad chest. she immediately crawls over him, kicking his face with her feet in the process, to place herself between you two. her little arms and legs wrap around your torso like a koala, and she looks up at you with a toothy smile. "my turn,” she says, nuzzling her head into you. you hear iwa mumble under his breath (something about waking the team up with kicks to the face).

✫ SUNA always searches for you and the twins in the crowd. his team had just won a game that he's been training especially hard for, and it's the first time in a while that you've seen his dimply smile on his face. he runs up to you and the twins with nothing but joy in his eyes. grabbing ahold of your waist, he presses a kiss to your lips — his teeth clash against yours and he's laughing into the kiss out of sheer happiness, but you don't mind it one bit. your sons pull at your clothes as they try to get your attention. suna catches a glimpse of their raised arms and pulls away from you to lift his boys into his own arms, one on each side of his body. they're cheering for their dad, clapping and yelling, “you did it!" suna's never been an affectionate guy, opting to show his love in more subtle ways, but he feels the urge to pull you and the boys in for a tight hug (one where you can feel the rapid beating in his chest). he kisses the top of your head before pressing one on each of the twins' cheeks. "let's go celebrate, yeah?" suna grins. he’d do anything to hold you three like that again after each win — his prized possessions in his arms.

reblogs are appreciated, as always!

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taitavva · 11 months

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the consequences of taking any wayward child with red eyes under your wing ....

(sequel to this + full text under cut)

#akechi is surrounded by people who refuse to speak more than 2 sentences at a time #(ignoring shido: windbag extraordinaire ofc #what is a detective prince supposed to do ???#i tried copying the tactica art style for the full text #i think he's cute ...#persona 5 #p5 #persona 5 royal #p5r #procreate #2023 #goro akechi #sae niijima #3 hours #it took me like an hour to type that out tbh #ignore any grammar mistakes i totally proofread that block of text #this is my “he would NOT say that” moment #taitavva sketches

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thesunisatangerine · 6 months

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against all odds (to wait for you is all i can do) – part ten

alexia putellas x photojournalist!reader

warnings: none (im pretty sure)

(a/n in the tags) [parts: one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven, twelve]

word count: 5.8k

The melodic chirping of birds in time with the gentle beat of Alexia’s heart roused you, your back delightfully warm, and for what seemed to be a long time you felt well-rested–felt as if the leaded weight that made its home in your bones finally melted away because, truly, you’d forgotten the lightness of being one felt upon waking from a night’s sleep or, even more so, the lightness one felt when waking in the sheltering arms of a lover. So you sighed, content and at peace, as you breathed Alexia in when you nestled further into the safety of her neck where faint wintergreen and her delicate, earthly scent lived, familiar and evermore comforting.

When you finally drew your eyes open, the world came to focus and revealed, in its center, Alexia already awake, her head propped on her arm with her honey eyes, just like molten gold in the resplendent glow of the morning sun, lidded as she gazed at you with a lazy smile, soft and relaxed but it ignited you with a gentle flame all the same, whose radiance only intensified upon meeting your eyes.

“Good morning.” Alexia greeted you and it struck you just how much you missed the sound of her voice in the morning, low and soft with just the right amount of rasp that never failed to incite the desire to kiss her right then.

“Good morning.” You replied in the same tone, cheeks warming to a gentle simmer in the face of your lover’s tender demeanour. She brushed the back of her fingers on your cheek while a silence filled the space between your eyes, intimate, as you soaked each other in. But when you could no longer sustain the weight from her gaze–when you chest had filled twice over that it felt in danger of bursting from the sheer joy of being looked upon by such earnest affection–you whispered, “you’re staring.”

Alexia tucked your hair behind your ear before she countered in a voice so tender your heart ached.

“And you’re beautiful.”

No words could translate the gravity of what you felt in that moment, so you spoke the only language that could ever come close to conveying it: you cupped her jaw and caught her lips between yours, seared the missed ‘good morning’s’ and the lost ‘hello, how are you’s’ into the kiss, the pace languid but sweet, savouring the way her lips parted in this silent conversation–relishing the way Alexia tasted like summer on your tongue.

Alexia tugged you closer, and closer still but still not close enough, with a gentle pressure from her hand against the small of your back, the other now over the nape of your neck.

But the conversation was cut short, too short, when a small gasp reached your ear, electrifying you in an unpleasant way your eyes flung wide open, darting immediately to the direction of the sound to find Elisa standing at the last step of the stairs, her hair ruffled from sleep, her loose shirt creased and draped slightly to the side, mouth wide open in disbelief as she gawked at the sight of the two of you.

And what a sight the two of you must have been.

In your haste to extricate yourself from Alexia, you ended up flopping down against the tiled floor, the carpet doing little to cushion your fall, but you recovered quickly and now you stood there not quite knowing what to do with your arms or what to even say. Alexia, on the other hand, remained half on her back and half sitting up, her weight against an elbow, the other arm frozen outstretched towards you, a clear attempt to save you from when you fell down. If the situation had been different, you probably would’ve laughed especially at Alexia’s expression: her face contorted in part mortification and part worry, brows upturned, eyes agape, and lips partially opened–if only you weren’t too flustered yourself to do so.

Alexia got her bearing faster than you, though–damn her and her athletic condition–because she, too, now stood from the couch (and did so with a lot more grace than you did). She cleared her throat, fumbled with her hands as it looked like she tried to stick her hands in her jacket pockets before it dawned on her that it remained still on the coffee table, so she resorted in putting them in her jean pockets instead.

“Good morning, Elisa. How are you?” Alexia said in English and her voice wavered at the end, the question infused with a guilty inflection.

With bated breath, you waited for your daughter’s reaction as trepidation filled you, which only worsened when Elisa’s eyes darted at you, then to Alexia, then back to you again. Numerous scenarios fleeted through your mind and out of all the images your mind conjured, what happened next was not one them: you didn’t expect the way with which Elisa’s surprise morphed into smug delight, her once opened mouth now curved into a coy smile, not dissimilar to a cat’s, that only served to accentuate the mischievous gleam in her eyes.

“Are you guys dating?” Each word deliberately drawled out as Elisa posed them, punctuated by a teasing cadence that set your ears and cheeks aflame. The question, thankfully, brought you back to yourself because only you could save you and Alexia from this situation.

“Okay, I think I need to have a conversation with you so up you go, young lady, back to your room for now.” You said as you approached Elisa who you guided towards the stairs with a gentle hand on her back but not before you placed a good morning kiss on the crown of her head. Elisa whined, but she heeded your words nonetheless, although she did sneak a wave and a cheeky thumbs up to Alexia on the way up, leaving you with an amused smile on your lips at her antics as you thought fondly, shaking your head, ‘Oh my god, this child.’

When Elisa was finally out of sight and you heard her bedroom door shut, you let out the breath you were holding. That really could have been a disaster, and when you looked over your shoulder, you found the same thought written in Alexia’s face. You dragged your feet back to where Alexia stood who, as soon as you got close enough, was quick to pull you back into her gentle arms. With your cheek pressed against her collarbone, her arms loose around your waist, and her chin resting on your head, you were grounded back to the moment, your muscles relaxing as apprehension began to leave you.

“That was mortifying.”

Alexia let out an airy laugh, the remnant of her nervousness still apparent. “I know. At least we didn’t do it last night.”

“Alexia,” you groaned as your cheeks burnt anew, “please, don’t–I don’t even want to imagine that right now.”

Melodic laughter filled your ears again before it tapered off which, once again, left you two blanketed in the subtle refrain of the waking world and the warmth of the sunlight that streamed through the window. You didn’t know which of you moved first but in the next moment, you found the both of you swaying to a gentle rhythm as you held each other.

“So, what now?” Alexia asked, breaking the silence.

“I… I don’t know.” You answered truthfully. Sure, the both of you agreed to take everything slow, but where to even start? When intimacy and familiarity were already there, strong and incessant in their pull, how could torn lovers begin to mend the fragments–to keep everything tentative and slow? Where should the lines be drawn, the boundaries set, when a profound desire that transcended physical affection already made its home in your heart, a yearning that constantly craved for not only Alexia’s company but also her thoughts? Because with Alexia, you wanted–and would always–want more.

“I think, for now, I need to talk to Elisa about this–about us.” Sighing, you continued, “what do I even tell her?”

“Well, she seems to approve.” At that, the both of you chuckled, then Alexia spoke again, serious but her tone remained light when she did. “Tell her whatever you’re comfortable with. Slow, remember? No labels for now, it’s just you and me.”

She placed a kiss against your ear and you hummed, nuzzling her neck in gratitude.

Another pause.

“I think I should go.”

Hard as you tried, you couldn’t hide your disappointment at what Alexia just said even though it was probably the best thing to do right now. There were much you needed to talk to Elisa about alone: her nightmares and her therapy, and now this. The only thing that eased your heart was the fact that Alexia seemed as reluctant to go, too, with the way her hold on you tightened and you responded to her touch by falling further into her, clutching the fabric of her shirt in an attempt to let her know you’d rather she stayed.

“I know. Me, too,” Alexia sighed seeming to understand what you were feeling as she kissed your temple. “How about this? If you and Elisa are feeling up for it, I could take you some place tomorrow? I did tell you before that I’d show you around.”

At the reminder, the memory fleeted through your mind and a sense of melancholy filled you but you swallowed it down before it could take root. Then you hummed in agreement, “I’ll ask Elisa about it. What’s on for you today?”

“Apart from waiting until tomorrow comes?” Alexia joked which made you giggle. “I’ll probably visit La Masia, check with Josep for next week’s schedule, then head home or visit Mamá and the family.”

“That sounds fun.” You said as you began to kiss her, knowing that your time together for the day would end any second now. As you punctuated each word with a kiss, you continued, “alright, I should let you go now, then.”

The rumble from Alexia’s chuckle radiated beneath your palm on her chest as she whined, “you’re making it really difficult to leave.”

“Okay, okay, I’ll stop now,” you giggled and just as you began to pull away, Alexia cradled the nape of your neck and sealed your lips together again for a deeper kiss. Then she pulled away but not before dragging down your lower lip with her thumb as she untwined herself from you and gave you a look that made you burn all over.

“Call me later?”

You nodded.

Alexia grabbed her leather jacket, gave you a smile and one last peck on your cheek, before she strode out of the door.

The feeling of loss that arrived upon her departure did not go unnoticed by you but before it could settle in your heart, you made your way to Elisa’s bedroom. As soon as you entered though, Elisa shot you a question without any preamble, practically buzzing in her excitement.

“Mom, why didn’t you tell me you’re dating Alexia?”

Your cheeks burnt at Elisa’s bluntness.

“Before we get to that, ladybug, I need to talk with you about something first.” You said as you set yourself down next to her on the bed. Elisa regarded you with a look that said she already knew what you were going to talk with her about. You wrapped an arm around her and squeezed her shoulder. “I’m worried about your nightmares and your therapy. Do you think we need to switch to a different therapist?”

Elisa gnawed on her lower lip before she spoke in a soft voice. “I like my current one. She’s cool and she makes it easy for me to talk about what happened. But I can take more sessions if you want me to.”

“Do you think you need more sessions?” You looked at Elisa pointedly, emphasising the fact that the choice was hers to make. “All I want is what’s best for you and your wellbeing, Elisa. I’m not trying to make you do anything, especially if you know yourself you don’t need them, but I also can’t just stand by and watch so I’m just here to tell you that there are options. If you need more sessions, we can do it. If you want to change therapists, we’ll both find you a new one. As long as it’s going to help you get through this, we can do it.”

“I’m not sure… Can I–” You caught her eye again and you raised your brows at her chosen word, and you watched as Elisa nodded, understanding what you meant, before she began again, “I will talk to my therapist about it and see if I do.”

You beamed at her, proud as you squeezed her shoulder again. She smiled back.

“So, what do you think is causing this spike in nightmares?”

“I… I don’t know. I think I’m just nervous? Also, maybe too excited?” Then Elisa added with a small laugh, “or both? I don’t really know.”

“About what, ladybug?”

“Going back to the Academy.”

At this information, you couldn’t help but frown, confused. “Is something happening in the Academy?”

Concern must have been too apparent in your tone because Elisa quickly looked at you and said as she waved her hands in reassurance, “it’s nothing bad, Mom, don’t worry! It’s just, Coach told us there are scouts coming some time around the end of the year and I’m… I really want to play for Barça, Mom.”

You understood her apprehension but her answer didn’t tell you why her shoulders looked like they’d taken on an invisible weight again with the way her spine curved inwards, almost dejected.

“That’s a really big opportunity, ladybug, so I understand that pressure is there for you to perform your best. Is it the pressure that’s making you think about what happened?”

Elisa shrugged, quirking her lips to the side in an unsure manner. A moment later though, she nodded and admitted in a small voice. “I just don’t want to let them down. I don’t want to let you down.”

“Elisa,” you took her hand in yours. “Never, never. If your parents were here, they would tell you how proud they are of how far you’ve come already. You’re so strong, ladybug, and you don’t even know how much. And if you happen to fall down, we’ll be here to support you until you’re ready to stand back up again. Just know that whatever happens, you will always be enough. Always, Elisa. ”

Elisa leant her head against your shoulder then she turned her head and gazed at you with wide eyes. “You really think I can make it?”

“I believe in you, ladybug. Do you?” You pinched her arm playfully which earned you a giggle from her. When she looked back up at you and you saw the determined gleam in her eye, the worry in you was put to rest.

“Yes.”

At that, you couldn’t help the warmth that surged through you and you hugged her. “There you go. I’m so proud of you, ladybug.”

After a moment of silence, Elisa asked in a teasing tone, “so… Alexia, huh, Mom?”

Your cheeks warmed. “What about her?”

“Are you together?”

“It’s… complicated right now, ladybug. We’re working on it.”

“Was that why you always looked sad whenever we talked about her? Before now?” You raised your brows in surprise. You’d always tried your hardest to school your features whenever Alexia was brought up because you didn’t want Elisa to worry but you didn’t think that you were that transparent.

“Did I really?”

“Yeah. I don’t know how to explain it but whenever you tried to smile, it didn’t quite reach your eyes.”

“Oh.” Pause. “I… I didn’t know. I’m sorry.”

Elisa shook her head. “There’s nothing to be sorry for, Mom. And it’s different now. Now you look happy.”

“I am.” You admitted with a small smile. “How… how do you feel about us, though?”

“I’m happy that you’re happy, Mom. It’s going to take awhile to get used to the Alexia Putellas being around but I’ll be fine. And as long as she treats you well, I’m alright.”

Your chest expanded at her words. “Thank you, ladybug, that… that means a lot.”

Elisa hugged you then and you hugged her back.

“Speaking of, Alexia offered to take us around the city tomorrow. What do you say?”

At that, Elisa practically jumped up, unable to control her excitement and you laughed.

True to her words, Alexia pulled up in her car the next day a couple of hours before noon. Alexia looked comfy in her white sneakers, ankle length socks, shorts, an oversized t-shirt, and a baseball cap, and upon opening the door for her, she took you in her arms and kissed you. Her eagerness amused you and you laughed against her lips but you tangled your fingers in her hair to deepen the kiss anyway.

“I missed you.” Alexia spoke between kisses.

“It’s only been a day,” you smiled into the kiss, charmed. “And I missed you, too.”

Time slipped you as you lost yourself in Alexia’s arms and lips, and you didn’t know how long the both of you were there by the open door, but it was apparently long enough that Elisa needed to interrupt you two. A terse cough made you pull away and, turning to look at Elisa who was standing just beneath the archway that lead to the living room, offered your daughter an apologetic smile. Elisa only stood there with her arms crossed, clearly unimpressed with the way her brows were creased.

“Hola, Elisa.” Alexia said with a shy wave which drew your attention back to her and you bit your lip at the state of her face. You reached out to wipe away the faint smudge of your lipstick on the corner of her lips and, upon realising what you’d done, Alexia quirked her brows up as she smiled at you, sheepish.

“Hi, Alexia.” A pause. “Wait, should I be calling you Aunt Alexia now?”

Alexia opened her mouth then closed it, seeming to be completely disarmed by the question. And when she looked at you with plea in her wide eyes asking you silently how she should answer it, you knew just how much the question definitely caught her off guard.

“Uh, if you want to.” Her words lilted with so much uncertainty it sounded more like a question than a statement.

Then Elisa grinned at the both of you, practically beaming. “I’m just messing with you, Alexia.”

She then continued to skip between you two, bounding through the door and down the porch stairs, and you held your laughter in as Alexia looked after her with a bewildered gaze, mouth agape. Once Elisa got to where Alexia’s car was parked, she started to wave the two of you over.

“She’s… she’s very funny.” Alexia laughed nervously, eyes still fixed at Elisa. Then she whispered conspiratorially, pointing to Elisa for good measure. “Are you sure she’s the same kid I met at the Olympics?”

“Yes.” You chuckled as you locked the door and began descending down the stairs. “She’s only like this when she feels comfortable around people. So, do you know what that means?”

Alexia shook her head.

You smiled at her, cupping her cheek before you pressed a light kiss on the other. “It means she likes you.”

At that, Alexia smiled back at you with lightness in her eyes before she grabbed your hand, intertwined her fingers with yours, and kissed the back of it. And the gesture warmed you more than Barcelona’s summer sun ever could.

Then, once the three of you were in Alexia’s car, you asked, “so, what do you have planned for us today?”

Alexia adjusted her rearview mirror to look at Elisa at the back seat, smiling. “First of, who’s hungry?”

After a delicious–and a quite scenic–brunch at a restaurant located by one of Barcelona’s waterfronts, the three of you took a short walk down a nearby landing connected to the port. By this time, the sun had already reached its peak, and with the vacant sky and the high tide, the view was one someone would expect to have come out of a film; the blue tinge of both the heavens and the sea was so vivid that you knew your camera would have trouble capturing the essence of it. Image after image, you captured your surroundings and as the three of you walked on, rolls of film were exposed to the light of Elisa and Alexia, and these images, you knew, you would cherish forever.

At one point during the walk, Alexia asked you to teach her how to work your camera, and so you did. With Elisa between you looking over at the sea, you guided Alexia’s fingers over the camera and taught her how to hold it properly, before you told her about the rest. As soon as she got it, she slung your camera around her neck and immediately started taking photos of you and Elisa. You laughed when she held the camera at arm’s length in an attempt to take a selfie of the three of you, adjusting it as best as she could to get the right angle before she set the timer. You told her as all of you returned to her car that you’d send her the fruit of her labour the moment you developed the negatives.

About half an hour later after hitting the road again, the three of you ended up at the second stop for the day: Camp Nou’s Barça store–much to Elisa’s delight. When Alexia parked the car at a less crowded spot and began to take her seatbelt off, you fixed Alexia with a reluctant gaze, speaking in Spanish so Elisa wouldn’t understand.

“Is it really wise for you to just march in the store? You’re the Alexia Putellas, after all, there’s no way no one would notice.”

In response, Alexia held a finger up to indicate you should wait and shifted so she could grab the hoodie that was hanging over the back of her seat. She put it on, zipped it up and pulled the hood down over her cap, then she put on a face mask and her sunglasses, her light brown hair spilling out to frame her face.

“Voila!” Alexia waved her open hands. “What do you think?”

You looked her up and down. All of her tattoos were covered but even with her attire and her face concealed, you could still recognise her–maybe you could chalk that up to you intimate familiarity with Alexia’s being but still. So you said as you schooled your features, your voice monotonous. “Wow. You really look like a whole new person.”

Alexia threw her head back, laughing. Then, “we’ll treat it as an experiment and see if they will.”

“That’s very modest of you,” you countered, tone still dry.

“Thank you,” she retorted in a saccharine tone while she flipped her hair over her shoulder, and that, in turn, made you laugh.

So then it was decided that you and Elisa would also wear face masks as all of you went on ahead in your quest to infiltrate–as per Alexia’s words–the store. Much to your surprise, Alexia’s disguise worked although she did draw some unwarranted glances, ranging from suspicion to pure amusement, due to the nature of her getup. And to your chagrin, once the three of you got back to the car with your bags of merch, Alexia smirked at you, smugness all too evident in the curve of her lips.

After that, Alexia took all of you for a drive up a mountainside with the windows rolled down that let the fresh, summer breeze rush inside. With the wind in her hair, she began to sing along with you and Elisa to the music playing on the radio, nodding her head to the beat of the music. At the end of the ascent, Alexia parked the car at your third stop, which turned out to be the Tibidabo Amusement Park.

You knew this place was pretty high up, but the moment you stepped out of the car, even from the parking lot, the view hit you: it was incredible. The city of Barcelona stretched out far into the distance, expansive and seemingly never-ending, and you could just see the strip of blue that bordered the ports, and the colours of the city’s structures were made ever-vibrant by the radiance of the sun. The view pulled you towards the edge of the parking lot, where you put the viewfinder to your eye to capture it.

“The view is stunning, isn’t it?” Came Alexia’s voice from beside you.

“Yeah…” you said, breathless, dragging you eyes from the cityscape to Alexia and as you did the remainder of your breath was completely taken away, cheeks warming when you found Alexia gazing at you, her smile as tender as her eyes, while her loose brown hair fluttered to the breeze which added to the softness of her demeanour. The urge to kiss her then became too much so before you fall into temptation, you closed the distance and simply rested your head against her strong shoulder, an arm around Elisa’s shoulder when she stepped into the space beside you.

Soon, you began a short trek upwards to get to the entrance, and if the view from the parking lot took your breath away, it was nothing compared to what you found at the top: from the regal immensity of the structure of the Temple of the Sacred Heart of Jesus that greeted you, to the Torre de las Aguas de Dos Ríos that stood proud just behind the Temple, to the perspective that overlooked the other side of Barcelona. After another round of picture-taking, the three of you finally entered the park.

The day went by as the three of you amused yourselves with the park's attractions. And since you'd all forgone wearing masks, Alexia was, as expected, recognised by people and was stopped more than a handful of times for photos and signatures during different points of your excursion. And you watched with Elisa on the sidelines, appreciating the way Alexia interacted with her supporters, and smiled at her with encouragement and reassurance whenever she looked at you two with an apologetic gleam in her eyes.

By the time the three of you left the park, the sun had begun to set.

It was another drive around the mountain side that lead you to the last stop for the day: Mirador d’Horta. Alexia parked the car in such a way that the trunk faced the cliffside before she urged the two of you to step out and you gasped.

You’d seen some magnificent scenes today, but this one was definitely your favorite.

There you stood, taking in the way the lights of the city burned like embers embedded in the earth. There was something about witnessing the city at night that never failed to make you feel connected, elevated, when you see the million tangible proofs of existence: under each light was a person, a family—lovers—all in their own worlds at their corner of this world you shared with them. And in your corner, in the opened trunk of Alexia’s car, was your world right beside you, and there was nowhere else you’d rather be. The three of you sat there in silence, Elisa in the middle of you and Alexia gazing over the city lights.

It wasn’t long until the day finally took its toll on Elisa, and she ended up settling her head on your lap and dozing off into slumber. You smiled down at her, brushing back her hair behind her ear as you watched her breathe deeply, feeling relieved when you noticed the peaceful smile on her lips.

“So her battery does run out. Sometimes, I forget just how much energy kids have.” The pure awe in Alexia’s voice made you let out a quiet laugh.

“It has its way of catching you off guard.” You shook your head fondly before you met Alexia’s eyes and teased, “I can’t believe she tired you out; aren’t you supposed to be the athletic one?”

“Hey! I’m only human; thank you very much. And what’s a thirty-year-old compared to a twelve-year-old?" Alexia raised an eyebrow in challenge.

“Touché. Ah, to feel young and full of energy again.”

Alexia cringed before she laughed out. “Please, stop. You’re making me feel old.”

“I’m making us feel old.”

The both of you chuckled, then took a momentary pause. You turned to Alexia and asked, "Did you run your parents ragged as a kid?”

The inner corners of her brows lifted—it was subtle, but you were familiar enough with the intricacies of her demeanour that you caught it—exposing more of her eyes, which looked pensive in the dim light, her lips pressed in a melancholic line before she smiled, wistful.

“Oh, yeah, but I’d like to think I wasn’t a menace. It’s just—you know, when you get so focused on something that you forget the time?"

You nodded. She continued.

“When I was much younger, there were times I was so intent on winning that I’d forget about dinner. So, one of them would look for me around the streets or the square. But after I got into Sabadell, my energy finally found the right outlet, and most days I’d gone home tired. Papá–” Alexia bit her lip, her eyes glazing over for a moment as she receded somewhere—a tender memory—then she shook her head. You watched the way her throat moved as she swallowed before she continued, voice raspy and quiet, “He, uh, he’d always exclaim, ‘She’s finally tamed!’ whenever I’d slump down on the couch after a practice. It was ridiculous, but it never failed to cheer me up.”

You grabbed her hand and squeezed it, expressing silent gratitude for the memory she imparted, as you smiled at the image of young Alexia with red cheeks in a sweat-soaked shirt, hair matted to her face, being chased and dragged back home to have dinner.

“No, I can’t imagine you being a menace. Mischievous, yes, and probably hot-headed, but never a menace.”

She laughed, winking at you. “Yeah, hot-headed is probably what people who knew me then would say about me. And I can’t imagine you being a menace, either.”

You raised your brow at her, smiling slyly. “Are you sure about that?”

Alexia opened her mouth as if to reassert her claim, but you saw the way her confidence wavered as she regarded you. Then she closed her mouth, now looking more unsure.

“Wait, are you being serious right now?”

You allowed her confusion to linger for another moment before you finally broke your character. “No, I wasn’t a menace, but you really should’ve seen the look on your face.”

Alexia squinted at you and muttered just loud enough for you to hear, her tone dry. “Are you sure about that?”

“Hey!” You yelled quietly, giving her shoulder a playful nudge but being careful not to accidentally jostle Elisa awake before you took her hand again. You intertwined your fingers together and pressed a kiss on the back of her hand, meeting her eyes. Then you took a moment to soak her in.

“Thank you, Alexia, for today. You don’t know how much this means to Elisa... how it means to me.”

Alexia squeezed your hand, smiling softly.

“I’m glad you both enjoyed it.” Alexia squeezed your hand as she regarded Elisa with a soft eye. Then a sincere smile lingered on her lips as she caught your gaze and said, “I think I needed something like today more than I realised. It feels good to be spending time with you again.”

Warmth bloomed in your chest, clearly understanding what Alexia meant.

“I know the feeling,” you whispered. And I missed you, too.”

With her other hand, Alexia reached out over the space between you and brushed her thumb over your cheek, tucking a strand of loose hair behind your ear as she smiled at you with her eyes and her lips. With the city lights behind her, the soft glow of the car light bathing her features in its golden glow, and the summer breeze playing with the soft strands of her hair, Alexia looked so tenderly human, the embodiment of warmth and all that the word entailed, gentle and, oh, so soft.

The two of you sat in silence, just soaking each other in, until a ping from Alexia’s phone interrupted the moment. Alexia looked down, read it, and then locked the screen with a sigh. When she met your eyes, hers were apologetic. You smiled in understanding.

“Time to go?”

“Yes.” Alexia sighed as she stood up and tucked her phone back into her pocket. “It was Josep. He reminded me I have a full day tomorrow.”

You nodded. You gently roused Elisa, watched her drag her feet to the back seat, and nearly chuckled when she fell right back to sleep after putting her seatbelt on and closing the door. You turned to Alexia, and as soon as she closed the trunk, you cradled her jaws in your hands and pulled her down for a kiss. Immediately, Alexia wrapped her arms around your waist, pulling you closer to her.

“I wanted to do that all day.” You whispered against her lips.

Alexia gasped when you nipped at her lower lip before she buried her fingers in your hair, deepening the kiss. “You have no idea.”

On the way back to Derek's house, Alexia kept one hand on your thigh. And with the radio playing softly as the car passed under a tunnel with lights overhead, it felt like you were in a movie.

After Elisa had gone back inside the house after thanking Alexia for the day and bidding her farewell for the night, you kissed Alexia’s cheek in gratitude. Then her lips.

With her forehead resting against yours, she whispered, “I’ll see you Tuesday?”

“Yeah.” You brushed your nose against hers before you kissed her again. You began to pull away. “Have fun tomorrow.”

“I will. I–” Alexia’s cheeks flushed before she smiled. “Bye, for now.”

Later, when you were in bed about to go to sleep, you received a message from Alexia. She sent you a link to a tweet containing a photoset that contained pictures of the three of you but mostly pictures of a hooded Alexia taken from a distance by the photos’ grainy quality, captioned, 'Alexia, what are you doing????’ followed by a string of laughing emojis.

At that, you couldn’t help but laugh. Her disguise was ridiculous in person, but captured like this, you thought it was a work of pure comedy.

You messaged her back, 'I guess you do have reason to be modest after all.’

#ap11 #not proofread #mine #my writing #a/n:#this was meant to be longer but i decided to split it into (or else this wouldve been like 10k long or something lol)#sorry for not updating last week id been in pain for the last 2 weeks so it was hard to concentrate #not to mention i got hit by a writer's block so i needed to just take a step back lol #anyway i just need to tie up some loose ends in the next part and then against all odds will be finished in two weeks time 🥲#also i apologise for any style inconsistency #i may or may not have been rereading frankenstein while going through some parts of this lol #will fix any grammar/spelling/prose mistakes later #woso x reader #alexia putellas x reader

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mosaickiwi · 4 months

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(sorry for any mistakes, English is not my native language) Hello, I hope you are doing well! Can I ask you for a drabble about the wedding day of an emotional MC who burst into tears because she thought that this day would never come and REDACTED, but without the “lavish ceremony” (lots of guests, wedding suits, huge celebration, etc.) (please forgive me, I hope I was able to express myself clearly, thank you very much and have a nice day!) ฅ'ω'ฅ

!!!

By law I must post wedding fic on Valentine's Day!!!

14 Days With You is an 18+ Yandere Visual Novel. MINORS DNI

~Wedding Day~

You nervously toyed with the ring in your palm, heart racing so hard it hurt. It was still difficult to believe what was happening. This was happening.

It was the same golden ring your partner had worn since you first met him. There wasn't a moment you ever saw them without it as he changed from a shy, stuttering mess in a cardigan to the clingy, dark-haired brat of a man you fell in love with more and more each day. Although the amount of rings they wore had grown.

That fateful day on the playground was something you couldn't even remember, and from what your companion told, you didn't want to. The second try was a far better memory for the both of you anyway. You were the one who proposed that time, catching them by complete surprise with the confidence you never usually had to ask anything of him. But you managed to do it.

And now you were the one who would put a ring on their finger.

“We haven't even started the vows,” [REDACTED] quietly said, pulling you from your thoughts. “Y'can’t be cryin’ just yet, Angel.”

“Am I crying?” The words came out hoarse from your already tightening throat. You hadn't realized. Sure enough, hot tears were streaming down your face as he gently wiped at them with his thumb.

You tried to calm down, gazing up at him to distract yourself. Their voice had the same familiarly teasing tone it always did, but you could tell from the soft quiver to his lower lip that he was holding back his own tears.

“Yeah, it’s—” He let out a sound somewhere between a laugh and a sob, then hurriedly pushed his dark hair out of his reddening eyes. You wanted to tease him back about it, but you knew if you tried to speak again the tears would come flooding even worse. Another few moments passed as you both tried to collect yourselves.

Surprisingly, it took him a little longer. The tears on your cheeks had long fell and dried while he stood in front of you, eyes shrouded behind their bangs.

But after one more unsteady breath, he seemed to find his way again and look at you. “Are you ready?” they asked, a shakiness to their hands as he reached for the dangling chain around your neck—the necklace he’d given to you months ago once he’d found the courage to say yes to your proposal.

With your anxious nod of approval, he continued. Cool fingertips brushed at your collarbone, finding the silver clasp at the back of your neck and releasing it with a faint clicking of metal. The necklace fell loosely in his hands as he pulled it away. The golden ring easily slid from the chain and he rolled it in his fingers for a long moment, staring at it silently.

They were noticeably calmer this time, with a trembling smile that reached their eyes as he took your left hand and repeated himself.

“Ready?”

#14 days with you #14dwy redacted #momo reqs #mushy mushy mushy #for da softies #no description of ur surroundings so u can get married wherever u want!!!#at the beach? sitting at home in bed? in a court house? a mystery #proofreading is hard i'm so picky #30 extra minutes from the time i pasted it in the draft silly me

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webdollzz · 30 days

Note

hear me OUT. hobie brown mutual marking/branding smut@?11!1?1? pic this:

basically whole premise is reader writing "[names property]" on hobie after they've had sex as a silly wake up prank and taking a pic of herself writing it on him, while unbeknownst her hobie's WIDE awake

So he turns the tables and just fucks her dumb again and writes "[hobies property]" right above her pussy and takes a pic so they're even

sorry this idea is so random i just HAD to get this out my system!!

a/n🌟anon, I love you. here's ur fic + the tallys you added! ur ideas are GORGEOUS. this is quite hobie hand focused ngl...n i kinda don't like this??

warnings!: fem!reader x dom!hobie choking, hair pulling, overstimulation, slight mocking, slight mean hobie but gets soft at the end. use of y/n once ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹

his grip on your sweaty body loosened, a sign that he had fallen asleep after sex. he always did — he was out like a light everytime. you didn't mind, you enjoyed the sleepy cuddles. but you weren't that tired this time. you were still led ontop of him, puffing small amounts of air from your lips as your eyes drifted to the sharpie he used to sign autographs, immediately smiling at your little idea. you snatch up the sharpie, gently sliding down his body and writing 'y/n's property' along his hip bone with a cheesy grin.

with the remainder of your smudged lipstick, you kiss right next to the writing for affect. you giggle, grabbing your phone, pushing his boxers band down to make sure the writing was clear. You snap a picture of it, staring at it for a couple seconds before moving your phone away. you let out a yelp of surprise when you see hobie staring right at you, a very unimpressed and unamused look on his face.

"Fuckin' hell! I thought you were asleep." You gasped, your hands on his lower abdomen now as you sat on his lap.

"Yeah, can fuckin' see tha'. The bloody 'ell do y'think you're doin'?" He grumbled, sitting up and gripping your hips, sliding you closer to him, your breath hitching as your panty-clad cunt brushed against his already rehardening cock.

"was jus' having some fun." You shrugged. he rolled his eyes, placing his hand on the back of your head to brace you as he flipped the both of you over, your back now hitting the mattress as he flipped your positions, glaring at you from above. he pulled down your panties once again, making you shiver.

"we just finished." You grunted, your lips parting softly as he ran a finger through your folds, gathering your slick from previous rounds.

"so? should've thought 'bout that before you started tha' shi." He huffed, grabbing your hips and yanking you towards him, placing his head between your thighs. he kissed up them, nibbling softly on occasion, smirking at your impatient whimpers. he dug his fingers into your skin to make you stop squirming.

"hob — quit it." You whined, your legs attempting to close around his head to stop him but he forced them open.

"naw." He licked a stripe from your entrance to your clit, making you jolt with a moan. he smirks, putting your legs over his shoulder. in no time he started devouring you like you were his very last meal, like you didn't finish fucking approximately half an hour ago. he was insatiable. give him a ten minute break and this man can go another couple rounds. you shudder around him as he eats your cunt like he never will again.

"yeah? you like that, doll?" he murmured against your pussy, making you mewl with a nod.

"mhm! don't stop, please." you begged, your hands finding their way to his wicks, tugging him closer to your cunt. he hummed lowly, sucking on your clit as his free hand that wasn't holding your down snaked between you two, his middle and ring finger prodding at your entrance before sinking in and immediately curling to your sweet spot. you gasp shakily, whining as you tug harder on his hair.

"Hobie! fuck, m'gonna cum." you cried, the overstimulation from earlier on still lingering, making the build up painfully good.

"c'mon ma, cum f'me. you got it." he cooed, pulling away to let his fingers to the rest of the work, leaning down to drink up your cries in a messy kiss you can barely reciprocate. as you gush around his fingers, he didn't slow his movements, prolonging your orgasm until you push his hand away, muttering a "t'much.." he kisses down your neck, humming softly.

"open up, good girl." he grunted, making you suck your own slick off his fingers, your tongue lazily swirling around the digits, making him groan and his cock throb. whilst you sucked on is fingers, his other hand pulled away from your hips to grab the marker. he put it between his teeth to bite the cap off, spitting out onto the bed next to you. you frown, wondering what he was doing, but before you could pull away to ask his slender fingers pushed deeper and made you gag and grab his wrist. he grinned cockily at your gag before leaning down to your inner thigh to draw one simple line. a rally, if you will. he pulled his fingers away from your lips, nodding towards the black line on your thigh.

"think we should keep addin' onto i'?" he rhetorically asked, his answer already being yes. his large hands grabbing your hips, flipping you over with ease and pulling your ass into the air. you yelp, your hands flying back to grab his arm. he tuts, shaking his head.

"c'mon, baby. be a good sport." he mocked with a shit eating grin, pushing your head further into the mattress. "hobie..s'not fair." you whined, but pushed your hips back to grind your ass against his dick anyway.

"aww, it's not fair?" he repeated as he reached down into his joggers to pull out his dick, pumping it a few times before lining it up with your entrance. you meet him half way, pushing back until you're buried to the hilt. you both let out a moan, before hobie slid his hand to the middle of your back and pushed down to deepen your arch. his other hand remained on your hip, gripping the flesh there hard enough to bruise.

"go on, then. fuck ya'self on my dick like a good girl." he urged, watching how you rocked your hips back and forth slowly, nearly moaning at the sight of him sliding in and out of you, your slick coating his dick. "oh god, feels s'good, hob." you mewled, nails digging into the sheets so hard they might as well rip them apart.

he hummed knowingly, both hands now holding your hips. he took over, not liking the slow ass pace you set. his thrusts were deep and rough, each one making a small ah! ah! ah! sound spill from your lips and into the fluffy pillow.

"fuck, such a slut fo' me, hm? yeah, you like having your lil' cunt pounded everyday." he said between his teeth. it was hardly a question anymore. you did.

"mhm! mhm! fuck, faster, please." you cried into the pillow, your already pre-smudged mascara wiping off onto the white pillow case. he went faster, one hand sliding up your body and wrapping around your neck. he yanked your body up to meet his chest, still thrusting unforgivingly into you as his veiny hand gripped your neck firmly.

"faster? fo'real? can't ever ge' enough, can ya?" He teased, his breath brushing your ear as he hovered by your neck, just being able to see your fucked out face through the corner of his eye. strained whines and whimpers fell from you, the hand on your neck making your head spin so good.

"I asked ya' a question." He scoffed, slowing his thrusts. you shake your head, your hand flying back to try and make him resume. he loosens his grip on your throat so you can speak.

"no! can't get enough. m'sorry, please. don't stop. don't stop." you panted, voice sounding like you're on the verge of sobbing as your nails dug into him to try and make him continue. he smirked, realising how pathetic he makes you. it was adorable to him, gave him an ego boost the man definitely did not need.

"since ya' begged so nicely, doll." he mumbled, giving you a quick kiss on the side of your head before his hand slid from your neck to your hair, gripping it tightly to force you down again. you moaned, your arms attempting to force yourself upwards but he wiped them out with his free hand before it went to your hip. he resumed pounding into you, the sound of skin meeting skin, your moans and mewls, and his breathy groans filling your small bedroom.

your orgasm was building quickly, his hand tugging at your hair, his tip practically hitting your cervix and bruising it — it was all too much. "h-hob! m'gonn-" you barely got the words out before your orgasm crashed over you, making your entire body tremble and a loud cry fall from your puffy lips. you coated his dick with your release, and he released your hair.

"good girl, tha'sss it. jus' like that." He praised, leaning down to kiss your shoulder as he grabs the pen he tossed aside earlier, marking your inner thigh once more. that makes two tallys. "can ya give me one more, ma?" He whispered, kissing your back and shoulder. you whined breathily, shaking your head a little before he pulled out and flipped you over.

he reached over to your bedside table, tapping your jaw gently as he raises the glass full of water to your lips. "open. take a drink, doll." He whispered softly, his free hand tucking your hair behind your ear. you smiled gently, putting your lips to the glass and letting him raise it slightly so you could take a couple sips of the water, the coldness easing your dry mouth and sore throat. he smiled softly, putting the glass back down on the side table.

"good girl. such a good girl, hm?" He muttered, kissing your lips softly a few times, and it almost made you not notice the way his hands went to grab your thighs. almost.

"he-hey! what're you doin'?" you mumbled, looking up at him with fluttering eyes. "well, you're a good girl, righ'? a good girl can give me one more." he cooed, pushing your legs to your chest, admiring the way your cunt drooled for him. you huffed, but nodded nonetheless.

"mhph. one more." you warned, but your tone failed you as it turned to a whine half way through as his dick prodded at your entrance.

"yeah, just one more, baby." He mumbled, pressing a kiss to your calf before sinking himself into you with a groan from him, a mewl from you. his thrusts were slow but deep, making you feel every inch of him sliding in and out of you.

"oh — oh — oh!" you moaned each time he hit that sweet spot inside you, your nails clawing marks into his back. "tha's it, ma. you got it. jus' relaaaxx." he drawed, kissing your nose softly before looking down to where you're connected.

"look a' her...takin' me so well, pretty." he praised, feeling you clench around him. your moans were breathy, your eyes fluttering closed as you gripped onto him.

"m'so close, m'god." you whined quietly, your back arching slightly. "s'okay, baby. you got it, cum f'me." he whispered, kissing your calf again softly, the coldness of his lip piercing a stark contrast to your hot skin.

you let out a high pitched, long moan as your legs shook against his hold as you came around his dick once more. your orgasm triggered his, making him groan softly as he filled you to the brim, softly pulling out a few moments later and muttering an apology when you wince. he laid your legs softly back onto the bed, kissing your body a few times as he tucked himself back into his boxers.

you were half asleep at this point, all fucked out and tired. he took the pen once more, gently writing 'hobie's property' right above your cunt. he grabbed his phone, snapping a quick picture of his n yours cum spilling out of your used cunt and the markings, grinning to himself. he then tucked his phone away, standing up to go to the bathroom and wet a flannel. he came back, carefully cleaning you up so he didn't disturb you, avoiding the now slightly smudged tally marks and his marking, before tossing the flannel to the side. he put your panties back on, grabbing one of his shirts from your floor and muttering a quiet — "cmon, help me out." as he slid it over your head, your arms going into the sleeve before you went back limp.

he curled up next to you, tucking you into him and kissing your head.

"i love you, sweetheart."

"love you more." you mumbled before falling into a deep sleep.

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crystalflygeo · 1 year

Text

The dragon and the sacrificial lamb ft. eroded!Zhongli + gn!reader

cw/tags: rape/non-con, angst, bad ending, yandere-ish zhongli? feral/eroded zhongli, biting, crying, restraints (courtesy of improper use of geo as usual ehe)

notes: Alright this is a special one get ready. There's two "version" of this story bc I couldn't decide which path I liked more. This one is the dark/bad ending. Both stories are exactly the same at the start, changing a few word here and there but then reach a point where they divert completely in reactions/emotions and the underlying feeling of the stories are very different. They can be read independently ofc so by all means feel free to choose which tags you vibe with more or enjoy picking up the differences between both!

Bittersweet ending version here!!

Once upon a time…

A long, long time ago…

The people of Liyue revered their beloved Archon Rex Lapis. Just and kind, he led his nation for millennia, upholding order and contracts, defeating countless enemies, and defending their safe Harbor.

It is said the Lord of Geo took a human as partner, and fell in love deep and pure.

And his partner loved him just as much.

A love that would tragically become a twisted obsession.

It is said the God understood that even he himself was not immune to erosion, and it would one day be his downfall. So, he made sure his people were ready to live on without him. That his adepti were strong enough to subdue him if the day ever came.

As for his lover… well…

-----

Your bare feet crunch along the soft grass as you run and run, panting, gasping for air, almost tripping and letting out a yelp but quickly regaining balance and scurrying faster, past the falling golden ginkgo leaves, past the soft sound of rushing waters.

The golden sunset is gorgeous, dying the sky pink and orange with pastel hues but you simply ignore it, having grown tired of it, sick even. It is fake, an illusion. Just as everything else in this adeptal abode.

Everything except, of course, you and the beast you are currently fleeing from.

It is useless to try to escape, this you know, and your heart clenches painfully as tears prickle at your eyes. You’ve done this before, played this game many many times. But at least for one moment… just one moment…

A roar turns your blood to ice and against all common sense you look over your shoulder to see a massive long dragon twisting in the air and diving straight towards you.

Your legs tremble and fail you as you fall down, the grass is soft but your body aches, tired, burning. You scramble around frantically to stare at the beast again and your eyes widen in panic as it lands right on top of you, majestic and terrifying, caging you with its serpentine body. The golden claws alone are as long as your forearms, digging on the ground at either side of you.

You whimper.

The dragon lowers his head, growling at you, fangs mere inches apart and you squeeze your eyes shut, tears running down your face.

“Why do you run away from me?”

“Leave me alone!” You scream.

“Are you not happy with me? My mate?”

At the words you only sob harder.

Mate.

Oh, how much joy did that word bring you once. And now you can only feel your heart shatter.

You feel a shift in the wind, in the energy, in the light around you, and when you open your eyes, the massive dragon has faded to a more human appearance. He changes back to the form you’re most used to.

Long strands of dark hair tipped amber, striking golden eyes with stunning red lines that highlight their sharpness, a handsome face and a muscular body with arms died black, and lines of gold… lines that run along his cheek and down his neck. Cracks, like a broken glass, like scars, under his eyes and around his chest, ruining the pristine skin and unable to disappear despite his ability to change forms.

The undeniable marks of erosion.

You snap back to attention when he dips down and starts nosing at your neck, his hands pulling at the robe you’re wearing, the only article of clothing you picked up before scurrying away from the mansion. It parts open easily, revealing your naked body to his eyes, littered in past bruises, hickeys and bite marks. Claims from the dragon.

“W-wait. Stop-!” You try to push him back, panicked, desperately pressing your palms against his broad shoulders, but of course he’s immovable as stone.

You kick and trash until he gets irritated and suddenly your arms are immobilized, held above your head and pressed onto the ground by heavy geo cuffs.

“Submit.” He growls.

You squirm a little more until your body sags into the ground, exhausted, panting. There is no use. Instead, you shudder as his hands grope and rub all over your body, rough and callous.

He spreads your legs and slots between them as your breath catches. His palm presses at a spot on your navel possessively, a glittering geo symbol engraved on your skin there, glowing subtly like his horns. You whine.

Then his touch goes lower and teases at your entrance, circling the hole and dipping in just barely.

“Z-Zhongli-!”

Another growl comes out of his throat, deep and guttural. “You dare speak another man’s name in my presence? In my realm? When you belong to me?!”

Your whole body shakes, with rage, with fear. Your heart about to burst. You grit your teeth and glare at the dragon god with as much venom as you can.

“I don’t belong to you!”

He snarls, eyes widening to serpentine slits.

“Insolent. No matter, I’ll fill you up again and show you.”

The eroded God leans down to bite at your neck and you yelp, sharp fangs break your skin and you cry as you feel the warm blood spill. His claws prick at your thighs as he starts unceremoniously humping against you. The ridges on his draconic cock making your hole twitch and you gasp as he presses in, dipping slightly inside your thigh warmth. No need to prepare your body after so many years of coupling. Your hole already soft and molded to him like a worn-out toy.

“No, please… n-no.” Your voice breaks, tears running down your face.

Everything turns blurry, fuzzy, and your head spins.

How had things ended up like this?

You see no love in his eyes, no recognition. And you don’t recognize him either anymore. This creature, this beast… he is not your lover. He is not Zhongli…

And hasn’t been for who knows how long…

Zhongli raises one of your legs and rests it on his shoulder while straddling the other and pushes further in the slick warmth, ignoring the sounds you make. “Too big! I can’t-!” You scream and it just urges him to slam it in. “No- Ahh!” Sheathed all the way to the hilt, Zhongli groans as you clench around him.

He immediately starts thrusting and you feel the world tilt. It’s all too much, the sound of skin slapping against skin, your walls getting battered by his thick member, his animalistic grunts and groans, and the way your body betrays you… a speck of pleasure mixed in with the pain.

It's so cruel.

“Sto- gh! Stop it! Zhongli, please…!” You sob.

Zhongli hisses, muscles taut and flexing as his hips buck into yours, finally finding that spot that has you choking out a moan, your body shivers, forced to surrender and feel everything, a hot coil building on your lower stomach where the mark of geo glows as he continues to take what he wants from your struggling form. He laps at your skin and nuzzles there, almost lovingly. “Mine.”

Your moans start turning sweeter, previously pained sounds turning to vocalizations of carnal lust, your eyes glassy. You try to fight it, conflicted, but the stimulation is too much.

You come with a raw cry through gritted teeth, tears flowing down your cheeks and your own juices coating your skin causing you to feel dirty in more ways than one. Zhongli continues through your overstimulated state, chasing his own pleasure as his thrust become erratic until finally, he stills deep inside and moans long and low, painting your insides white.

You feel him twitch inside you and groan, absolutely exhausted, overwhelmed with emotions, feeling sick, used and abused. He lowers your leg but doesn’t bother pulling out, keeping you there as he nips at your skin, murmuring soft words. “My mate. All pretty and filled up. All mine. Love you.”

You can’t bear to hear those words, spoken in the voice you continue to love after all this time. It shatters your soul, breaking it to pieces like the corroded dragon’s destroyed mind.

Feeling about to pass out, you close your eyes and your head lolls to the side, sniffling against your own forearm as tears continue to fall. “I love… Zhongli. Miss him. I hate you…”

He dissolves the geo shackles into specks of gold and holds your unconscious body in his arms, satisfied with the claims and scent he’s left on you. His tail swishes slowly, pleased with himself as he carries you back to the abode’s mansion.

Home.

Were he’ll keep you safe, bound to him.

Forever and always.

-----

…It is said that his lover is the key to keep the eroded God confined.

Trapped by the possessive dragon in a sealed realm, to keep him ensnared, enchanted and bound to them.

Until they both turn to dust.

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satorusluver · 8 months

Text

Minors DNI

I had writer's block so I tried to write a little bitty drabble to push through it. I'm sorry if it's bad. Also I'm 100% convinced Satoru is the biggest tease alive yes I said alive no he's not dead no I'm not in denial.

Gojo Satoru is the type of boyfriend to tease you and then pretend he didn't do anything at all.

Satoru, who purposefully wears his tightest shirts around you that he knows show off his broad chest and bulky arms. He swears he's not flexing, he's really just that jacked.

Satoru, who'll let his hand on your back slowly travel a little too low when he's walking with you in public, and then the moment you feel him barely brush against your ass, he'll move his hand away entirely.

Satoru, who'll come up behind you when you're cooking and hug you tightly from behind, letting his hard-on press right up against your lower back while he asks you if you think you'll be in the mood for dessert. Then he chuckles when you stutter and choke on your words and walks away like nothing happened.

Satoru, who'll lean down and whisper something filthy in your ear in the middle of a crowded mall -how he can't stop thinking about how fucking loud you were while he fucked you this morning, what a good girl you were for him, how much you begged for him to go harder- just to watch your face go red only to turn back to the rack of clothes, whistling causally.

The man is a menace who loves to fluster you, but you know he'll make it up to you later when he's balls deep fucking you into the mattress, making you scream until you lose your voice and making your already soaking wet cunt cream all over his dick until you lose count. Because if there's one thing Satoru loves more than teasing you, it's making you fall apart under him.

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cuubism · 3 months

Text

Computation

part 7 of Complex Mathematics

(aka Dream vs Technology -- Technology: 1, Dream: 0)

------------

Wednesday, 3:54am

Hob. what is the wifi password?

3:56am: why are you texting me when I’m in the same house?

3:57am: I did not want to wake you up.

4:00am: ……….

4:01am: Ah.

4:03am: it’s 12345. which is terrible security by the way

4:04am: how do i know this and you don’t? we’re in YOUR flat

4:05am: Computers are your friends, not mine.

4:10am: It does not like the password.

4:12am: alright i’m getting up

Dream creeps back into the living room, holding a cup of tea, as Hob’s tinkering with the router. Turns out it needed to be completely reset before he could reconnect it to Dream’s laptop. Not that this is that hard, but for some reason Hob doesn’t understand, technology is simply out of Dream’s grasp. Head in the clouds, too smart for basic computer skills, etc etc.

“A peace offering,” Dream says, placing the tea on the coffee table. He perches on the couch beside where Hob’s leaning over the router on its spot on the bookshelf.

“I’m not mad at you,” Hob says. He pats the router as its indicator lights finally turn green again. “I will take tea, though.”

“I woke you,” Dream says softly.

“You’ve woken me before, you will again,” Hob says with equanimity. Their sleep schedules are out of alignment, it tends to happen.

It’s the wrong thing to say, though. Dream cringes, hands folding in his lap. “I should be able to handle such things.”

“It’s just the wifi.” Hob finally finishes reconnecting Dream’s laptop and turns properly towards him. Dream still looks guilty about it. Sometimes Hob misses the time before they were dating, when Dream would bristle at him instead of caving. Just because he doesn’t like seeing Dream feel bad.

He takes the cup of tea and places it in Dream’s hands instead, briefly wrapping their hands around each other. “It’s okay,” he repeats. Possibly they should have a longer conversation about it, but Hob’s not emotionally awake enough for it.

Instead, he gets up and heads for the kitchen to put on some coffee. He needs something with more caffeine in it than tea.

“What are you doing?” Dream asks.

“Might as well get something done while my brain is online,” Hob says. He goes to fetch his own laptop from Dream’s bedroom. Lord knows it’ll need to get reconnected to the glitchy wifi again, anyway.

Friday, 2:05pm

Hob.

2:06pm: ?

2:07pm: The wifi is angry again.

2:09pm: did you antagonize it?

2:09pm: hang on did you just wake up now?

2:10pm: I cannot comment.

2:12pm: I assume you have been hard at work in the library since six.

2:14pm: more like hardly working in the library. i did make an app that gives you a gold star every time you do the laundry

2:16pm: Will that assist in your routines?

2:17pm: probably not but it’ll be fun for 5 minutes

2:17pm: wifi password’s still 12345

2:18pm: maybe I should make an app for that instead…

2:20pm: I do not think it would help.

2:30pm: …You are not trying to make said app, are you?

2:34pm: nope just realized I’m late for a class and had to scramble out of there. I’ll be back later can do couples counseling for you and wifi then?

2:35pm: Very well.

For a while after putting down his phone, Dream stares at the wifi router in vexation, as if that will possibly make the angry red lights turn green again. He doesn’t know what he’s done wrong. He knows even less what to do to fix it.

He needs the wifi operational to keep generating these fractals. He supposes he could go to the library and use university wifi, but that requires going out in public, which is preferably avoided, at least while he’s trying to work. So he will have to do something else until Hob gets back from class.

He recalls what Hob had said. That instead of working on his dissertation he had made an entire phone app about laundry. He had said it so casually, like it was a doodle to pass the time. Dream can use apps—barely—but he cannot begin to fathom how he would go about making one. Hob does not understand how even in his procrastination he is exceptional.

Well. This is something that Dream can do. Hob hates doing laundry—hence the app-based reward system—but Dream doesn’t mind. He finds it meditative. He will have to be more precise about fabric care instructions now, as while his own clothes rarely range beyond grey, black, and dark blue, Hob actually wears colors which might bleed into each other.

He puts on his headphones with some music, gathers up the laundry from the bedroom, and goes about his routine.

When Hob gets back, Dream has finished hanging the laundry to dry and returned to his contemplation of the router, this time still with his headphones playing. He’s lost in thought, and doesn’t notice Hob’s come in until his hand lands on Dream’s shoulder. Normally a sudden touch when he’s thinking would make him jump, but he’s become used to Hob.

“Trying to solve your marital problems through telepathy?” Hob asks.

“We were never married,” Dream says. “Indeed we are enemies.”

Hob laughs. He kisses Dream on the cheek, then kneels in front of the router. “You have to stop tormenting my boyfriend,” he tells it. It only blinks back at him innocently.

Hob can be very silly at times. “I do not think arguing with the inanimate object will help,” Dream says.

“You never know.” Hob takes the router down and sets about unplugging all the cables. Dream still doesn’t know what any of them precisely do, nor how wifi works. It may as well be magic.

Hob has it fixed within minutes, of course. Far more effective than Dream’s intense staring. He gets Dream’s laptop reconnected, and Dream is finally able to start generating his fractal. “Thank you,” he says.

“Anything for my love,” says Hob, getting to his feet again. “Guessing you want some time to yourself now to work on this?”

“Yes,” says Dream, with some guilt. Hob has come home to help him only for him to immediately bury himself in his work again. But yes, he does want to make progress on this at last.

“Well, good,” says Hob, and Dream turns to him in surprise. “Because I’m due for a nap.”

Dream still hasn’t formulated a response to this by the time Hob’s disappeared into his bedroom. Strange, that their routines can be so opposite and still meld together so well.

Hob pokes his head back out into the hall. “Did you do the laundry?”

“Yes,” says Dream.

“I could kiss you,” Hob declares, then blows one to him before disappearing back into the bedroom.

Dream presses his hand to his cheek, as if to touch a kiss that had really landed there. Smiles to himself. Then goes back to his fractal.

Monday, 5:02pm

Hob.

5:03pm: Wifi?

5:04pm: …Yes.

Thursday, 9:50pm

…..Hob.

9:50pm: I’m sitting right next to you.

9:51pm: ….

9:51pm: I’m just gonna get you a new router. This thing’s got problems.

9:52pm: I think it is I who has the problems.

9:52pm: That too.

Saturday, 6:00pm

Hob.

6:00pm: Is it broken AGAIN??

6:01pm: No. I got dinner.

6:02pm: Oh!

6:02pm: Fuck I’m starving.

6:03pm: Coming back from class now.

6:03pm: Don’t touch the router it’s in a fragile mental state.

6:04pm: Aren’t we all.

Thursday, 3:50pm

This time, it is the wifi in Hob’s flat that is stymieing Dream. He does not think it is broken. Hob has merely changed the password, as he’s much more diligent about internet security than Dream, and then forgotten to tell Dream what it is. Or, more likely, correctly assumed Dream would have to ask him again anyway.

He briefly contemplates trying to deduce the password, but it is likely an incomprehensible string of characters that Hob would claim is ideal security precisely because of the impossibility of deducing it.

He refuses to text Hob about it again. Hob has a class to teach soon—Dream has his schedule memorized—Dream does not want to distract him. Though speaking of…

3:50pm: You have a class in ten minutes.

3:51pm: FUCK

3:51pm: I got distracted

3:53pm: Now… running

3:54pm: You are not near the building, are you.

3:55pm: NOPE

Dream smiles to himself, thinking of Hob sprinting across campus. It happens often. Hob is good at many things, but time management is not one of them. This is why Dream knows his schedule.

He does feel… a bit silly, though. He should be better at this, should he not? Less bothersome to Hob over small things that he should be able to handle.

Normally he would go back to his work to distract himself from these thoughts, but he still can’t work on his fractals without being able to connect remotely to the university computers, which are more powerful than his own. This is something Hob had also set up for him, because Dream had not been able to make any sense of the instructions he had been given for remote login, and the like.

Sighing, he instead takes his sketchbook out of his bag. It’s been a while since he’s made any time for drawing. But he had started looking at fractals in the first place to better understand patterns in art, to understand resonances between what occurred in nature and what was projected by mathematics. And drawing used to soothe him.

So he starts drawing, sketching the fractal he has been generating—to the extant that he can with the imprecise instrument of his pen. Even in infinite impossible digital form, the branching spirals eventually become too small for him to see, though he knows they continue on in perfect replication forever, smaller and smaller until they disappear into atoms. He cannot recreate that level of detail by hand. But he tries.

By the time he gets another text back from Hob, an hour later, he’s moved to the floor to have more space. He’s found a bigger piece of scrap paper and is drawing the fractal again, in more detail this time, color-coding the different shapes, free-handing where he should probably use a ruler for more precision. He has achieved several more levels of replication than before, but it is still not right. He can’t get it right. If he could only use the stupid computer system he could get it right.

Finally he looks at his phone, several minutes after the text alert pinged.

Thanks love 😘

Unexpectedly, it makes him tear up. Always this happens to him. He does not realize how frustrated he has become with himself until it is too late.

Of course, to only make matters worse, he is still sitting hunched on the floor, pen clasped tight in his hand, teeth clenched so hard it’s hurting his jaw, when Hob comes through the door. He must have texted not far from home.

“Hey, love,” Hob’s already saying as he comes through the door, “meant to stop and grab dinner but I totally forgot— I’m sure I have something here, though— Dream?”

Dream hasn’t moved from the floor, or responded. Hob puts down his bag and comes over to him. He looks down at the fractal, which is still incomplete. “Did you draw that?”

“Obviously,” Dream bites. The pen is still in his hand. He drops it, scraping a hand through his hair. Great. Now he’s snapping at Hob, too.

Hob sits down on the floor beside him. He studies the fractal. Then points to one of the shapes that Dream’s colored in red. “That’s supposed to be purple.”

Dream stares at the fractal. Hob is right, it is meant to be purple. According to the way Dream had color-coded it digitally. He looks at Hob. “How do you know that?”

“I’ve watched you fiddling with it enough. We set it up on your laptop, remember?”

Yes. Dream remembers. He remembers how Hob had helped him.

“Wifi giving you troubles again?” Hob asks, looking from the drawing, to Dream’s laptop, which is sleeping on the couch.

Dream nods, then saws quietly, “Are you not… frustrated with me? Annoyed?”

Hob doesn’t need to ask what he means. “Sometimes,” he says, and Dream can’t help his flinch. “So?”

“So?”

Hob shrugs. “I would have missed that class if you didn’t text me.”

Dream does not understand the relevance.

Hob looks up at him, raising an eyebrow in challenge. “Aren’t you annoyed with me?”

Perhaps he is, at times. Recently, Dream has been too absorbed in his project to feel much about it at all.

“I don’t know,” he says. “It is just how you are.”

Hob seems to think that Dream still doesn’t understand the point he’s making, and perhaps Dream doesn’t. Hob takes his hand. “Look. I’ve no idea why someone as smart as you are is constantly defeated by basic technology, but it doesn’t matter. Always having to be the one to fix the router is a small price to pay for having you in my life.”

Dream’s mouth opens, but no words come out. He… he does not know if anyone has ever put up with him with so little complaint. For truly, it is not only computer troubles. It is all the small things that stack upon each other to make him feel different and difficult.

“I find I do not like…” Dream admits tentatively, “when you must do these things. That I should be able to do.”

“You did the laundry the other day,” Hob says.

Why must he jump topics in this manner? “I do not understand.”

“Well, we don’t actually live together, you know. You have your own laundry. You don’t have to do mine, too.”

“I thought it would help you,” Dream says.

Hob just waits expectantly.

Dream looks down at his lap. “Ah. I… see.” Hob finds him frustrating at times, he had said so, but still wants to help him. He finds Hob’s admittance that Dream is frustrating to be a relief, in its way. He would only feel more on edge if Hob pretended otherwise, surely to snap later when Dream was least expecting it, as so many have done.

“Give me your arm,” Hob says then.

When Dream does, Hob pushes up his sleeve, takes one of the markers from the floor and writes on Dream’s forearm, the wifi password is I love you.

“There,” he says. “Now you won’t forget.”

Dream touches the words with a light fingertip. “This is not good internet security.”

“Oh, so you do listen my ramblings,” Hob says, laughing. Always, Dream thinks. “What, you’re going to throw out my valentine because I cut the heart out a little wonky?”

He makes as if to rub the marker off, and Dream pulls his arm protectively to his chest. Hob’s smile softens. He carefully pulls Dream forward into a hug, Dream’s arm pressed between them. Dream tucks his face into the crook of Hob’s neck. It’s one of his favorite places to hide.

“I’ll help you fix your program after we find some dinner,” Hob tells him, rubbing his back.

“I think I should give up on using computers,” Dream mumbles.

Hob chuckles. “See how you feel about it after I make you some brownies for dessert.”

Dream hums in pleasure at the thought, and Hob kisses the side of his head. And Dream touches, again, the words Hob’s written on his arm, where it’s pressed between them. And allows himself to smile.

Wednesday, 6:03pm

Dream is attempting to cook dinner. Hob doesn’t think it’s going so well. At least not if the blaring fire alarm, which Hob’s just silenced by waving a dish towel at it until the smoke dissipated, is any indication. But it does mean he’s been treated to the sight of Dream with his sleeves rolled up, delicate hands at work—and wearing an actual apron.

Having soothed the alarm, he leans against the counter so he can shamelessly ogle instead of helping.

“What are you even trying to make?” he asks, eyeing the still-smoking oven.

Dream pouts. “Only bread. It should not be so hard.”

“You didn’t wait for me to get home to watch?” He imagines the sight of Dream aggressively kneading the bread dough. It shouldn’t be a turn on, but it kind of is.

“You would make a spectacle of my misery?” Dream says, but there’s a smile tugging at the corner of his lips, like he knows exactly what Hob is thinking about.

“Definitely,” Hob says, and Dream sighs, but turns to take the attempt at bread out of the oven. It’s… pretty blackened, to be honest. “Butter’ll save it, I’m sure!” Hob says cheerfully.

“Nothing will save it,” says Dream, morosely. He pulls off his oven mitt in apparent disgrace, and— Hob catches his arm.

“How has this not faded yet?”

For Hob’s writing saying the wifi password is I love you is still on his forearm.

Dream looks sheepish. “I got it tattooed.”

Hob tilts his head at him, confused. “So you could remember the wifi password?”

“So that I could remember this.” He traces his finger over, I love you.

Hob feels a blush creep across his cheeks. But it’s a pleasant feeling. “This is not even my best handwriting.”

“I know,” says Dream. He does not seem unhappy about it.

Hob takes his arm, touches the words, too. “You could have just gotten this part done.”

“I think,” Dream says slowly, touching the part that says, the wifi password is, “that this is another form of the same.”

And Hob… finds himself tearing up a little. Because it’s true. It’s so silly that Dream, certifiable maths genius, struggles so much with basic computer skills. But Hob will do any silly thing for him, because he loves him.

“Yeah,” he says, taking a shaky breath. “It is.”

“Unfortunately, you can never change the wifi password now,” says Dream, and Hob laughs wetly.

“I really can’t, can I? Terrible security. The things I’ll do for you, darling.”

“Would that include making proper bread?” Dream asks, and Hob nods, patting his arm.

“We’ll fix it, don’t worry.”

Now he’s wondering how he didn’t notice Dream getting a tattoo. Though to be fair, they haven’t seen each other as much in the past two weeks as they usually would, thanks to very inconvenient scheduling. Apparently Dream’s taken advantage of that time to do this.

“Can’t let you out of my sight for a second,” he says, as he fetches a new bread pan from the cupboard. “God knows what you’ll come back with next.”

“Be careful or I will consider that a challenge,” Dream says, and Hob pauses as way too many images flash through his mind. He shakes them off. He’ll never be able to focus on anything like that.

And Dream, the bastard, is smirking.

“Watch that look on your face or you might find that flour you’re holding dumped over your head,” Hob warns, but Dream only looks victorious, and utterly uncaring of the bag of flour he's precariously picked up.

“How will you ogle me kneading the dough that way?”

Hob swipes a dish towel from the counter and throws it at him. Dream yelps and spills the flour, which poofs up in a cloud of white landing all over his black t-shirt.

“Hob,” he complains.

“Serves you right, you dickhead,” Hob says. It only returns the smirk to Dream’s face.

“If you feel that way perhaps I’ll decide I don’t need your supervision,” he says archly.

Hob tears a piece off of Dream’s first attempt at a loaf. Or rather, breaks off a piece, which is hard as stone. He shows it to him as evidence.

Dream snatches it and shoves it into his mouth. Bites down with a crunch so horrifying Hob’s afraid he’s broken a tooth. But Dream persists, chewing it painstakingly and then swallowing, as if by force.

“Taste good?” Hob asks.

“Yes—” Dream starts to insist—then dissolves into a fit of coughing that swiftly turns into giggles. Hob loves it so much when he laughs like that. It’s so rare.

Hob laughs with him. Then frees the crumpled bag of flour from Dream’s grasp and sets it aside, brushes the flour and crumbs from his shirt. Then he takes Dream’s arm and runs his fingertip over the words again, still in awe.

He again finds himself having to clear his throat to avoid tearing up. But he manages, and says, “Let’s get you some proper, not burnt bread, yeah?”

“Please,” says Dream, a tad sheepish. “I am… very hungry.”

Hob kisses his cheek, then goes about solving that problem, too.

#this is so... silly. so sappy #complex mathematics #dreamling #dream of the endless #hob gadling #my writing #proofread this many times so here's hoping it's fine now XD

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zephyrchama · 2 months

Text

Quick Leviathan fluff that got out of control (1.4k words). SFW with suggestive aspects, MC's gender isn't mentioned.

---🧵🪡---

Ever since the release of the new Hana Ruri: Transparent Tarot Arc promotional video, Leviathan had make himself scarce. He'd erratically come out for food once in a while or grab an Akuzon package within minutes of it being delivered, but you hadn't received so much as a text from him in a week.

A mechanical whirring sometimes emanated from his room - the sound of a sewing machine at work. The occasional Sucre Frenzy song would accompany it. Nobody was worried, but it at least let everyone know the Avatar of Envy was still alive. Sometimes you'd peek in to make sure he was okay and leave a sandwich at the door. It gets lonely without him though, and eventually you went to talk with him.

The room was chilly, with the AC cranked up high. Leviathan was sitting on the ground, facing the door but blind to everything except the materials in front of him. Rolls of lace and ribbon, jars of sparkling cabochons, cases full of colorful thread and assorted sewing needles. With an impressed "woah!" you moved some empty boxes aside and sat down across from him to get a better look.

He jumped. "Gah! Don't sneak up on me like that!"

"I knocked."

"I'm busy right now. I have to finish this, it's almost ready." Leviathan glanced at his desk.

A nearly exact replica of Ruri's new PV outfit was laid out next to his PC setup. It was gorgeous. Each piece had been painstakingly recreated and carefully set out over the empty flat surfaces in his room. Fully lined with a glittering beaded trim. The base fabric had a high quality sheen even in the dim light of Levi's room, with satin stitched silk applique petals accenting the skirt.

You admired the handiwork. Then, you admired its maker. Leviathan was carefully stitching fabric flowers to a hat with intense focus. He relied on holding in small, shallow breaths to prevent his hands from shaking. He was blinking more than usual, fighting off the accumulated sleep deprivation. It marred his handsome face with dark eye bags.

You sat next to him for a while and stared. The usually shy Leviathan was too engrossed in his crafting to pay any mind. The more focused he got, the more he frowned, accentuating the wrinkles around his mouth.

"Yeah... you need a break."

"Not now." He picked up a thin awl and poked some holes where the seam was particularly thick.

Talking was futile, you quickly noted that nothing you said would make a difference, so you watched. Every few minutes, a portion of Leviathan's long bangs fell in front of his eyes and he'd blow them out of the way. He flinched when you gently swept them out of the way, as though he forgot you were there.

He huffed. "Like I said! I just have to finish this, so leave me alone. I'm almost done."

The exhaustion was clearly taking over. You hated seeing Leviathan like this, a cold grumpy shell of his normally warm and passionate self.

You intercepted his hand when he reached for another bushel of flowers. His fingertips were calloused and dotted with red indents from hand sewing thousands of stitches without a thimble. It looked painful. No wonder he was working so slowly.

"Levi..."

You lightly traced over his damaged fingertips before weaving your fingers together. You gave his hand a squeeze and his expression slightly eased.

"You're so soft," he grumbled, then fiercely shook his head. "I have to keep working, let go."

That was out of the question. You were determined to break him and force him to rest. You held on and rubbed your thumb on his.

"Ghh, stop!"

Leviathan could easily push you away, but he didn't. Instead, he raised your entwined hands to his face and pressed them against his cheek. "I'm so tired."

"I know."

"You smell so good. It's distracting."

"Thanks. Your dress is pretty."

"It's not... it's... not enough..." Tears appeared in the corners of his eyes. "I can't find the right iridescent fabric so the colors will look off in the sunlight, and my shoulders are too broad so the silhouette of the top looks weird. So to compensate I made the sleeves bigger with more poof but I had to add more darts and you can see there are more seam lines here than in the reference image. And the buttons would look better with a wooden texture but all I had on me to make them was resin, which bubbled on the back, so what if their structural integrity is weake--"

Levi eeped, stiffening as you leaned into a tight hug. You were glad he was talking to you. But he was overthinking, and frustrated. Stressed, and more than anything he needed to take a break.

You expressed as much, scooting back while holding his shoulders at arm's length. "You might think it sucks, but this costume is all you've been doing. You haven't looked at anything else in a week so you've got nothing to compare it to. It's so gorgeous, Levi. Every stitch. Take a break with me and I'll help you finish it in the morning. You'll see how amazing it really is. Okay?"

A tear drop slid down his face, he quickly wiped it away. Leviathan avoided your gaze by staring at his creation, unwilling to walk away while it remained unfinished. "I'm so tired," he repeated.

"Hana Ruri-tan would want you to take a nap. And I want you to take a nap."

Leviathan frowned again, having no logical way to refute that statement. You let him tidy up a few final things as you inspected his bed-tub.

Scraps of spare fabric dangled over the sides. You picked up his sheets to brush off loose threads, plucking out a few loose pins in the process. Pillows were fluffed. Extra fabric was put on a hanger and moved elsewhere. Rolls of ribbon were wound back up. It was kind of relaxing.

Leviathan was rushing to glue a rhinestone when you called him over, his last-ditch attempt to get one more thing finished. You let him spend another couple of minutes waiting for the paste to get tacky. Once it was finally secured in place on the hat brim, he thankfully didn't object any further. After wiping his hands clean he flopped magnificently into bed.

Not even five seconds passed by before he griped, "I can't fall asleep. I can't stop thinking about the costume. I should finish it now."

"Nooo, no, no. No. Move over, you're not getting up. I'm getting in." You slipped into the tub before he could pick himself up, draping your legs over his. "The hat can wait until morning. Then we can get pics of everything, too."

Leviathan sighed in stubborn agreement. His orange eyes, puffy and a little irritated, were looking right at you for the first time that evening.

"You'll let me think about you then, right?" he asked quietly. He wrapped his arms around you, one hand bunching up the fabric on the back of your shirt while the other grazed against your bare skin. His rough fingers traced along your spine. You made a mental note to help him bandage them later.

Pulling you flush against his upper body, he nudged his face into the side of your neck and slid his lips up your shoulder. You hooked an arm under his to gently comb through his hair, resting your chin against his head. It tickled a little, but you felt each passing breath get heavier and slower as your comforting scent lulled Leviathan into much-needed sleep. You soon followed his lead.

Come morning, Leviathan had you in a tight grip while you blearily woke up on top of him. His wandering hands had found their way up your shirt during the night and one of his legs was thrown over yours. You had planned the surprise of getting up early to finish his hat for him, but at this point a surprise morning snuggle was all you could manage.

"Hmmh? What... oh!" Levi woke quickly, with the intense determination of someone ready to finish the cosplay they've been crunching for a week straight. He looked so much better with color returned to his face. Too much color, perhaps, as the more he let go of you the redder his blush became.

"I'll be... uh... bathroom." He dragged himself out of the tub and quickly walked towards the hall, failing miserably to cover his blatant embarrassment.

"Wait! Can I start working on some things while you're gone?" you asked, motioning towards the nearly-finished costume.

Leviathan nodded. "Uh, yeah...? Go ahead."

"And you'll try it all on for me when you get back, right?"

With a full night's rest behind him and the finish line in clear sight, the giddiness of an exciting new cosplay was returning and Leviathan gave a cheerful "yeah... Ok, yeah! I'll be right back, so don't go anywhere!"

#i want fluffy cosplay times with leviathan please. but instead all i get is sewing alone at 3am. so... take this! hyah!#might take a few days break from writing stuff. i feel like i'm getting stale and repetitive but hope that's my imagination.#i should start proofreading stuff probably but. i have to get back to sewing kjhga #obey me #obey me swd #obey me scenarios #obey me x mc #obey me shall we date #obey me leviathan #obey me levi x mc #obey me leviathan x reader #obey me fluff #om leviathan #obey me fanfic #in which i want to be both mc and levi

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mystoriaaa · 3 months

Text

FakeCreator!Reader

SAGAU but reader becomes the tyrant imposter who pretends to be the creator. Also has a game system in place because I'm a sucker for those lol

“How about we play a game?”

“A game?”

“Yes. It'll be a fun, simple game. Just how you like it. It'll even involve that Genshin Impact game you're currently playing.” The person smiles, “I just need you to…”

—

You open your eyes to an unfamiliar ceiling. And suddenly every sense of yours sharpens.

You feel the mattress you're laying down on, it's too soft. You jolt upright at the thought you possibly got kidnapped, looking around the new environment.

It's…fancy. You look down at what you are wearing and… it certainly fits the place you’re in. It feels smooth, something a rich aristocrat person would wear in the past. But that's the thing, you are broke as hell and you certainly aren't that old.

So what is this? Is this some kind of new sick joke kidnappers do nowadays?

A ping from a hologram accompanied by a robotic voice reading it out appears right in front of your dumbfounded face, cutting you off your thoughts.

[Welcome to the World of Teyvat, player!]

What?

[You are currently inhabiting the body of the so-called “Creator” of Teyvat but the body is actually a fake!] The hologram fakes a gasping sound.

What.

[Now, you have no choice but to pretend to be the real Creator or else…] It pauses for dramatic effect to reveal horrifying news that you'll definitely not like.

[You’ll be executed! Oh no!]

“WHAT?!” You yell in shock, at the absolute absurdity of it all. Not knowing that it would alarm the people guarding outside the door.

“Your grace?! Are you okay?!” The door slams open, and that's when you know, you are fucked.

Your grace. You internally curse that title, the one commonly used for the Creator. Towards the imposter that was actually the real one or to the fake pretending to be one. Which you are supposedly the latter.

Two people entered the room, and you felt the sudden movement of the wind despite the closed room. But that's just your imagination, right? Is what you would like to believe but…

A familiar yet foreign appearance appeared. That– That shouldn't even be real. You dig your nails into your palm, hoping the pain will wake you up.

Yet you feel fully awake as Venti, a game character, goes to you. Looking all over your body for non-existent injuries while your mind breaks down, crumbling at the horrid realization.

His brows furrowed, gently prying your hand open, “Your grace? Is something wrong?” He asked in a worried tone.

You look at him, you don't know what expression you have but Venti flinches and ask again, “What’s wrong, your grace?”

You take away your hand that Venti was caressing, hugging yourself as you close your eyes to process what was happening.

You’ve— you’ve just somehow isekai’d like in those shows you watch. And not just any normal isekai, but in the body of the fake Creator of those SAGAU fanfictions you read.

“Your grace, may I ask what happened?” A deep, smooth voice filled with concern but all it does is make your face pale.

Oh. You are absolutely doomed.

Warning bells ring in your head, the two’s voices blurring yet the words of the hologram echoes clearly.

If they discover you're the imposter, you will die.

The world becomes distant as your chest tightens, everything feels real and not at the same time. You don't remember when you fainted, but all you wanted was for this to be a dream and wake up in your world again.

The last thing you see is the blue screen, with words that feel like it's mocking you.

[We hope you enjoy your experience and live to see another day!]

—

[Congratulations! You received a Memory Fragment from earning the achievement: <Trapped in another world?! The life of a Creator Imposter starts now!> Obtained from a successful transmigration.]

[Accessing Memory Fragment… Success!]

[Memory Fragment playing now.]

“How dare you?! You dare to question me?!” Someone yells in anger. A voice so strangely familiar to you.

You try to remember whose voice it is, it almost comes to you but leaves when you come close to remembering. You know it's someone you know very well yet you can't put your finger on it.

“P-Please, your grace… I did not mean to—” A different person’s voice, someone unfamiliar this time, begs desperately but was cut off by another angry yell.

“You dare to talk back to me?! Morax! Barbatos! What are you doing, you slow and incompetent acolytes! Bring death to this man right this instant!”

You flinch at the names spoken out, so so familiar but you just can't seem to remember. Your head hurts as you try to force yourself to recall what you forgot.

A clear, low voice void of emotions speaks, “We apologize for being late, your grace. We will do as you command.”

A slap echoes loudly.

Weird enough, you faintly felt the contact. As if you were the one that hit someone. But that can't be? You can't even see, let alone move…

“Useless. Useless, I say!”

All of a sudden, your vision comes back to you slowly. Your senses are getting clearer and clearer.

Then, you feel your mouth speaking, your body moving even as you try to fight against it. You start to panic when you can't control your own body.

“It is an honor for you to be personally serving me. Yet you dare to treat me like this?”

You try to scream, try to take back control of your body but all you do is point at someone kneeling before you.

“You seem to forget, you wretched Archon. But I am your—”

Suddenly, it comes back to you. Your mind momentarily freezes at you remembering everything. You somehow got put into the game you were playing and became someone you did not want to.

That's right, you are now the…

“—Creator! The Creator of Teyvat! The ruler of this world! And you will respect me, worship me as I deserve.”

[Memory Fragment finished! Collect Memory Fragment to access more of the Imposter’s memories! It will surely help your survival. You can do it, player!]

—

You open your eyes. And once again, you see that unfamiliar ceiling. You close it one more time, just in case.

To your absolute dismay, it does not work.

You pinch yourself once, twice yet nothing happens, you stay in this dream-like place.

You sit upright with a headache from the imposter’s memories you received. Massaging your forehead as you try to calm down.

“Your grace?” Ugh, that cursed title. The proof of your annoying situation. “Does your head hurt? Would you like me to get you medicine?”

You look at the source of that voice and lo and behold, it's Zhongli from the hit game Genshin Impact. Sitting at the seat beside the bed.

If it was in any other situation, you would cry from joy meeting one of your characters. But now, you want to cry for a different reason.

“No. I am alright.” You say rather stiffly, you weren't sure how you should be speaking. Should you be screaming insults everywhere like the imposter you saw in the memory or something?

“I understand. I brought you lunch, would you like to eat?” Oh, the beautiful voice you love to hear whenever he was on screen. Yet it chills your spine, scared at what he might do when he finds the truth.

This would have been much, much better if this was all a dream. But noo, you stare at the hologram over Zhongli's face, this is unfortunately the reality.

You sigh, “Give it to me.” Zhongli obliges.

Well, at least the food is good. Even better than what you have in the previous world, you won't lie. Makes your remaining time alive better at least.

…You mentally slap yourself to stop these thoughts or else you might throw up.

After you finish eating, Zhongli takes the tray and says, “Dr. Baizhu said you fainted from feeling overwhelmed. Is there something troubling you?”

You would feel bad at his worried tone if not for the fact you want to run away at the moment.

“It was nothing, you do not need to worry about it. I will be fine after resting.” You say with a fake calmness you did not feel, and hope it sounds like the real owner of this body despite the lack of yelling.

But then his eyes glint, piercing at you, looking like he just found the answer to his questions. And all you can think is that you already failed.

Standing from his seat, “I will be leaving then. Rest well, your grace.” Bringing the tray with him, the sound of the door closing made you slumped to the bed.

That was so stressful…! Silently groaning to yourself, and looking at the annoying blue hologram box in front of you.

“You! Bring me back home right this instant!” You tried not to yell loudly, fearing that someone might hear you and come in.

[Sorry to disappoint, player! But I cannot do that!]

“And why not?!”

[Your original body has died, no medium can be used for you to access the previous world. Would you still like to proceed?]

A yes or no appears, and you ask in distraught. “I’m– I’m dead..?”

[Yes. Returning would permanently make you disappear. Would you like to proceed?] The monotone voice irritates you to no end, it felt like it was mocking you.

“I— Why?” Your voice comes out quivering. You don't know what you are trying to ask, you just wanted answers.

[Please calm down, player! At the end of the day, this is all just a game.]

A game.

JUST A FUCKING GAME?!

You throw the nearest thing near you, the pillows passing through the holographic screen. “You brought me to this world and you say it is just a game?!”

Being quiet be damned. Fearing someone entering be double damned. You have to somehow make this screen pay for what they said.

You didn't want to be in this situation! This place where powerful people from fiction can hurt you in the most painful way possible before killing you. Even if you died and couldn't go back, you still wanted to return home because it's better than being here.

But this annoying blue box telling you it is just a game felt like it was trampling over all the fear and desperation you had.

When you run out of pillows, you go for the glass of water at your bedside table and throw it. It shatters and the water gets everywhere on the floor. With nothing else to throw, you attempt to throw the big fluffy blankets too—

Venti enters the room and sees you trying to lift a clumsily folded blanket but it keeps falling off. You complain the third time it falls off again, “This stupid blanket!”

Venti gets near you, holding you as you shake him off. “Your grace, what is the matter?” You keep thrashing around until you accidentally hit him.

All of a sudden, your anxiety spikes and anger gone. You almost forgot that this is someone who could kill you, and you just hit him. You immediately try to apologize, “S-Sorry—”

But you stop at Venti’s look of confusion and disbelief. What? Why is he... You rack your brain at the expression until you realize.

The one you're right now is the imposter who's pretending to be the creator. The one who acted like a tyrant in that memory you received. You panic, you're already acting so out of character already.

You try to think of a way to fix it so they won't get suspicious until Venti brings your hand to his cheeks, smiling almost crazily, “It’s okay, your grace. This body is your creation, you have the right to do anything to me as you wish.” He lets go of your hand, but he waits. As if encouraging you to hit him.

Chills went down your spine, you remember how insane the behavior the playable characters have towards the Creator. It was all for fun when you read them, because it was fiction. But actually experiencing it yourself now scares you.

Especially when you're just an imposter.

Swallowing the lump from your throat, you summon all the little courage you have left and say, “...Leave, Barbatos. I wish to be alone right now.”

He looks at you, the same way Zhongli was looking earlier and you clench your clothes, trying to stop yourself from trembling.

“...Of course, your grace.” It feels like forever until he finally shuts the door, leaving you alone to yourself. But you are also left with a sense of foreboding.

You lay down on the messy bed, closing yourself off from the world. Comforting yourself that everything will be fine.

But a ping from that grating system comes, along with it emotionlessly reading a new notification that makes you fear for your life even more.

—

Venti closed the door behind him. He looked at the other archon standing guard at the door of the Creator’s room.

“Barbatos.”

“Morax.”

Silence echoed until the Geo Archon spoke.

“Did you notice it, bard?”

“Ehe~ Of course I did, why wouldn't a super devoted acolyte like me notice?”

The Anemo Archon replied lightheartedly, but his gaze intense as he stared at the taller god.

“Indeed. It would be quite shameful if us two, the last remaining of the original Seven, did not realize this.”

The bard chuckled, “You’re right!” with a smile that doesn't reach his eyes. “Wanna say it at the same time then? 3…”

The Geo Archon sighed tiredly yet complied nonetheless.

At the end of the count, the two’s expressions turned serious.

And spoke of the truth that could change everything.

“The Creator has changed.”

—

[Warning! Warning! The playable characters are starting to suspect you!]

#sagau #genshin impact sagau #genshin sagau #sagau zhongli #sagau venti #am i tagging this right #first time posting #not proofread btw #either a oneshot or prologue depending on my inconsistent motivation #genshin cult au #yandere genshin x reader #yandere sagau #sagau brainrot #is that enough tag ?? AHHHHH

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