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m1d-45 · 1 year

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the thoma one, god i love him. what a sweetheart :') but like.......what would happen if we went to the kamisato estate with him. and like. the siblings caught us. would they be on our side or would ayato call for our arrest immediately. would thoma still try to help us once he realized or does his loyalty override that. i am dying to know 👀

silent conclusions

summary: the kamisato estate is welcoming, thoma and ayaka are kind, ayato is… ayato.

word count: exactly 4000. very cool

-> warnings: spoilers for inazuma archon quest, exactly one (1) swear word, ayato is a little shit (affectionate), if your name is maple uh… whoops?

-> lowercase intended!

taglist: @samarill || @thenyxsky || @genshin-impacts-me || @5sos-wdw

@yoshikuno and @alexteea asked for part threes- sorry if you didn’t wanna be tagged

<<first part || < masterlist >

teleport waypoints, despite being incredibly convenient, take large tolls.

the moment your feet were on solid ground again you reached, latching onto the closest person as your vision swam with vertigo. bile rose in your throat once more, exacerbating your nausea. though you managed to wash out some of the saltwater with the tea—shockingly sweet, from what you remember of green tea—it still soaked your tongue.

two people are talking, voices just out of focus, and the person you grabbed sets their hand over yours.

you’re thankful they give you a moment’s pause, and you take deep breaths. slowly, the stone beneath you is less blinding, and you can see that you’re outside the kamisato estate. the white and purple walls are tall, imposing, two guards stationed in front of the entrance. it looks like light security, but you figure nobody could be bold enough to try anything anyways.

you pull your hand from your support, hoping your gaze show your apology as you look at-

ayato?

he glances at you, eyes flicking over you once before returning to his talk with hisashi.

oh fuck.

thoma appears from your other side and takes you by the arm, walking for the entrance to the estate. “come on, let’s get you inside.”

you follow in a daze, still thrown off by the fact that you grabbed the arm of the yashiro commissioner after teleporting. you’re certain that most people would be knocked off in an instant—or worse—if not by him then by those around. you can’t tell which is more shocking: the fact that he didn’t seem upset afterwards, or that hisashi let you get so close in the first place.

the courtyard is full of life, plants lining the outer edge and the raised patio-like platform in the middle. the various workers around the area stare a little more at you than you’d like, but since thoma is besides you they don’t give you much trouble. the emblem of the kamisatos ripples on the flags they’re printed on, moved by a silent breeze.

the guards in front of the door eye you with more suspicion, and step inwards over the door as you approach, spears crossing in an X. thoma’s steps halt unnaturally, and you can see confusion on his face out of the corner of your eye.

“who is with you, retainer?”

“er…”

right. ayato had directed the conversation at the teahouse to your charges, not to you. you never got a chance to tell your name—not that you would have told the truth, incase history tried to repeat itself.

“the commissioner has employed new help,” he said, wisely keeping back the part where you were being hidden from the shogunate. “i am to show them to their quarters.”

the guard’s eyes narrow further, and you can’t find it in yourself to blame them. you don’t look fit for work by a long shot, let alone for somebody as prestigious as the kamisatos.

“come on souta, when have i ever been untrustworthy? the commissioner himself is just behind us, if you don’t-“

the door behind the guards slid open and they rushed not to block the way, glancing first at each other and then to the open doors.

ayaka is standing in the open doorway, barely-concealed curiosity evident in her eyes. in one hand is a fan that covers the lower half of her face, the carefully painted design matching her eyes.

your mind flashes back to when you were introduced to her, when she was sitting behind a screen and thoma said that that was the traditional way to greet guests, or something similar. sure, you’re less of a guest and more… maybe blackmailed is a little too harsh of a word, perhaps more coerced-

“m- my lady?” thoma steps forward, tugging you behind him, and you can’t tell if it’s meant to be protective towards you or her. “what are you doing out here?”

“indeed, it is rather rare for you to be out. i told you i was bringing home somebody, ayaka.” ayato’s voice once more comes out of nowhere, and you turn to see him and hisashi walking up. the latter looks more tense than you’ve ever seen him, and you don’t blame him. considering ayato gave a… warning..

…wait a minute-

“it’s well past when you said you would return,” ayaka points out, voice far more diplomatic than you’d expect from a conversation between siblings. “is it wrong of me to go for a stroll?”

an odd expression flashes over ayato’s face, but it melts into acceptance quicker than you’d expect. “that is fair. i apologize. negotiations took longer than expected.”

you have to bite your tongue to keep from saying something smart in return. the threat of salt also helps, but not nearly as much as the fear of angering him.

something like a laugh comes from ayaka, but you refrain from turning. even if you’re ‘allowed’ to, it feels polite. also, you really don’t want to upset ayato. after everything he’s done, he feels like the largest threat.

(your mind reminds you of how kind his hand was when it settled over yours outside of the estate. you arrive at the conclusion that ayato is strange.)

“come in, then. hisashi, you are dismissed.”

hisashi bows, then sends a questioning look at ayato. the latter nods, and the former turns neatly on his heel, leaving with barely a sound to his footsteps.

thoma pulls at your hand again and you turn to follow, keeping your eyes on his shoes. you figure it’s better not to snoop or get distracted, and considering thoma’s following ayaka…

ayato’s eyes weigh on your shoulders as you walk.

for the second time today, you’re sat in front of tea you have no intent drinking.

it’s smells a little more flowery, and you think you remember catching the word rose, but that could very well be referring to the flower arrangement in the center of the table.

they’re nice. pale pink, in a soft green vase. they still have their thorns, surprisingly, a detail that distracts you from the conversation happening at the table.

first, ayato filled in ayaka on your conversation at the teahouse. second, ayaka asked for thoma’s recount of how you met. third… third you had zoned out, distracting yourself with the details of rose petals.

“-what do you think?”

you jump slightly at thoma’s voice, the sound closer than before and obviously directed at you. glancing around the table reveals no indication of the former conversation, only two other sets of eyes. soft silver looks with genuine feelings, and pale lavender looks a little too smug for your liking.

the latter picks up his teacup. “we’re assuming you don’t want to reveal your name,” he says, taking a drink. you wish his gaze wasn’t so knowing.

nonetheless, you nod.

“thoma was considering maple, since it’s a pretty neutral name.” wait, what did you just agree to? “it’s not inazuman, but it’s also not anything else either. it’s.. an interesting choice, considering its also the name of a tree common on narukami, but i believe it will hide you nicely.”

oh. that’s better than you thought, considering who it’s coming from.

you give a half-shrug and a nod in response, the pen under your hand not worth picking up for such a simple reply.

“well, maple,” ayaka pauses, but the name doesn’t sound awful, and you let her continue, “thoma can show you around, and you’ll start either tomorrow or the day after, depending on how long it takes you to get used to the place.”

sounds reasonable enough. you nod, and thoma speaks up next, nudging your notepad.

“do you have any preferences for where you’d like to work? i’ll keep you out of anything involving a lot of other people-“ you send him a silent thank you “-but just so i know…”

you pick up the pen and write down your choices, hesitating at the bottom before adding ‘but anything’s fine if you’re there.’ is it cheesy? probably, but he’s the person you’re most comfortable around here. he’s been nothing but open and kind, and doesn’t have a reputation to uphold or an agenda to fulfill.

he reads over the paper when you pass it to him, and a quiet pride comes over you as he flushes a bit at your end comment.

“a- alright then! i’ll show you around today, you can shadow me tomorrow, and the day after we can finalize things. sound good?”

you nod, and neither of the kamisato siblings have anything to add either, both silently showing their approval.

you feel yourself smile.

thoma’s work is surprisingly simple.

not that it was easy, of course, because what else would you expect working for a third of inazuma’s government, but it’s… shockingly simple.

he’d warned you the night before that you’d need to wake early, but he wasn’t angry when you didn’t wake up on time. he seemed upset, almost, regret lacing his words as he tugged you out of bed. even as you delayed him further by struggling with the uniform—the nightclothes were easy enough, but this one had so many folds and ties that you got lost embarrassingly quickly—he wasn’t upset. he just led you to the kitchens, where he explained every step of how the lord and lady liked their teas.

ayato prefers black tea, he says, carefully measuring out loose leaves. he takes it with no sugar, and as hot as it can be.

ayaka has been trying new teas from liyue, he mumbles, voice quieter than he intends to be as he stirs in honey. she’s quite fond of dragon’s well, but anything from there will do. feel free to experiment, just be sure it’s not too sweet.

he shows you their respective offices, and you wince at the amount of paperwork on both of their desks. they both greet you with a smile, but you can see how tired they are. absently, you wonder if that same exhaustion is why ayato likes black tea.

thoma’s interactions with them are short, and you waste no time in following him to his next task.

the day passes by easily, thoma’s easy conversation—despite your hoarse voice—easing the load of the work. floors are swept and shelves are dusted, and when he quizzes you on their tea preferences at dinnertime you get it right on the first try.

he beams from his post at the stovetop, bright green eyes shining in the same way dew does on grass. you feel your own smile form in response, and he makes you sit and wait while he delivers dinner—yes, to their offices—no matter how much you protest. he returns swiftly, pulling over a pot that you didn’t realize wasn’t empty and ladling out two bowls of soup.

he slides one over to you, and together you share dinner.

the next day is much the same, as is the next, and the next, and you slowly fall into a routine.

you wake up, the knots on the uniform more familiar than they were at the start, a simple way to start a simple morning. you tidy yourself up and meet thoma on the way to the kitchens, chatting about a dream you had the night before or a diplomat that had arrived yesterday for a meeting. water bubbles and you share a breakfast, the two of you preparing tea side by side.

today you decide to make ayaka a new king of oolong tea that had just come in a few days prior. after all the various security screenings, you could finally make it!

thoma encourages you to take the large platter this time, and you comply, however nervous. you’re watching it more than you are the hallway, making sure that nothing spills, and it pays off when you make it to ayaka’s office without incident.

she looks up with a smile as you come in, and you flash one of your own as you set down the large plate.

“good morning, lady ayaka.”

“good morning, maple. how did you sleep?”

you eye the bags under her eyes as you push over her teacup. “i should be asking you that, my lady.”

she chuckles, picking up the cup for a smell. “this doesn’t seem familiar.. what kind of tea is this?”

thoma looks to you from where he’s sorting out a stack of scrolls, and you recite the information off the box.

“it’s tieguanyin, also known as iron goddess, and is a type of liyuen oolong. it seemed sweet by the smell, so i didn’t put much honey in.”

her smile turns sweeter, an oddly genuine happiness taking you by surprise. “thank you.”

there’s a weight to her words, some other information tucked between the lines that you can’t reach. with a smile and a nod, you pick up your tray.

ayato’s office is strangely far from his sisters, something that confused you the first day and still does now. the only difference is that now you’re familiar with the sprawling layout of the estate, and you can take the right turn without missing it.

he’s much more tired, evident by the delay between when he sees you and speaks.

“maple, thoma. good morning.”

your hand paused over his teacup. ayaka… she hadn’t greeted thoma, had she?

you’re fairly certain there’s an implication there, something that ties into the heaviness of her voice when she thanked you, but you don’t have time to think it over. thoma nudges your side and you snap out of your thoughts, moving ayato’s tea and breakfast off the tray.

“is something wrong?”

you shake your head. “no. something.. caught my attention. i apologize, my lord.”

he picked up the cup with a grin, “oh? i do hope you’re not trying to pry into any yashiro documents.”

you shake your head and he drinks, but thoma catches your arm as you turn to leave. his lips part, something worried shining in his eyes, but ayato cuts him off.

“what is this?”

oh no.

ayato’s black tea was easy to brew, tea wise, and with thoma watching over your shoulder you had assumed it wasn’t burnt.

the housekeeper seems just as confused, the both of you turning back to ayato’s desk. he’s staring at the tea in his cup thankfully not with disdain, but certainly with confusion.

“it’s wakoucha, my lord,” you say. “no sugar. hot as can be.”

“is it a new kind?”

“it’s from the same box as yesterday’s, and all of last week’s.”

he looks to thoma, who nods. “the only difference is that maple brewed it.”

ayato’s eyes flick between the tea, thoma, and you, still not accusatory, for which you’re grateful. you’re not sure you could hide from poisoning the yashiro commissioner as easily as you could hide in liyue.

“…here.”

the cup is passed to thoma, who hesitates before trying some. he’s easier to read than ayato—most anybody is—and you can pick out the emotions in his eyes clearer. shock, delight, and then a careful sort of confusion.

“it’s very strong, though the flavor is perfectly intact… even without sugar, it’s still sweet.” you don’t know enough about tea to discern what that means. “but how? i was watching you the whole time…”

you’re tempted to say something stupid—‘well, i hear that nightshade can be pretty sweet’—but wisely hold your tongue, watching the cup return back to ayato’s hands. he stares at the rim of it for a moment, then a flicker of a smile crosses his face.

“well done,” is all he says, and after another sip, the cup is set down in favor of his pen, the prior conversation dissolving back into the air with nothing more than a glance. “and if you two are planning on going to the city today, do stay away from the docks.”

“are the tenryou receiving a shipment?”

“nothing of the sort, thoma, what do you mean? what reason would i have for directing you away from them?” ayato looks up from his paper, some stupid little scheme glinting in his eyes. “i’ve just received news from the shuumatsuban that the imposter is likely in the area.”

you can’t help the way your shoulders tighten, the office suddenly seeming smaller. though you had admitted as little as you could about why you were hiding from the shogunate, you had never brought up their accusations on this front. intentionally, too, because you knew that no matter how kind anybody could be, religion was a heavy topic in teyvat, inazuma especially.

and when you were staring down a man that held loyalty in high standard, it was wise not to admit such a thing.

the corner of ayato’s lips twitch into a smile. “do be careful, maple. i’d hate for you to get caught up in another incident.”

you cling closer to thoma’s side than you normally would when you two go into the city, your hand linked with his as he speaks with the various vendors. you’re not sure why you two are even in ritou, honestly, but didn’t bother with asking questions.

he’s speaking with a kanjou officer, which he’d addressed by name, oddly, and you’re standing behind him, looking around the city. the maple trees are a pretty pink for spring, making the island look a lot kinder. sure, the outlander affairs agency likely still has the area in a chokehold, and sure it’s run by a literal puppet government, but something could be said about its beauty.

“what do you think about lunch?” thoma asks, and you look back in alarm only to see the kanjou officer long gone, his eyes focused on you.

ah.

“we’re gonna be out for most of the day, and there’s a little food stall here that i like. granted, we could eat at shimura’s…”

you shake your head, “here’s fine, thanks.”

he brightens, pulling you along once more. “great! ryouko makes the best dry-braised fish, or she has fried tofu in a miso broth, if you’d rather?”

you make and tell him your choice, and he nods as you walk down sets of stairs, making note of it. people wave at you two as you pass, and though it’s mostly at thoma, you do see some smiles directed at you. probably just because you’re with him, though.

thoma leads you to the left of the main courtyard, taking you down another small set of stairs. it’s… familiar, the tree behind the sidewalk reminding you of something you can’t pin.

“hello ryouko!”

“hello, and welcome! care to have some specialty snacks?”

you keep a hand on his as you look around, letting him order for you. the food stall was backed against a wall, in a tucked away corner, near the port… if you turned so that you faced the staircase, it clicked.

this was where you met thoma. it was months later, at a wildly different time of day, and you were in a much better place… but you were back here. back when he held your hand much as he did now, in a drastically different context but for much of the same reasons.

guidance. security. promise.

comfort.

“first time in the city?”

you turned to the close voice, jumping slightly when you see the owner. maroon hair shadows grassy eyes, ones that seem to pick you apart—much like ayato, but a lot less subtle. the blue of an anemo vision shines behind the baton of a doushin, and you can feel your heart stop as you face down the best detective in inazuma.

you tug on thoma’s hand and he turns as well, apparently recognizing him. “doushin shikanoin? what are you doing out here?”

heizou crosses his arms with a heavy sigh, some of the tension in the air fading as his eyes fall to the floor. “on ritou, a failed mission. here in particular… well, ryouko’s one of the only in inazuma that makes a good katsu sandwich, and i’m in the market for a pick-me-up.”

“really? what happened? do you want eat with us and talk about it?”

“no no, please. there’s no need to interrupt your little excursion on behalf of little ol’ me.”

what is it with inazuman men with blue visions that makes them adore implying things most would rather say aloud?

“well we’ve got time while our food’s being made, don’t we?”

“mmm…” one of heizou’s hands comes up to his jaw as he thinks, tapping a steady beat. “i suppose i can tell you. after all, it was your boss that tipped me off.”

oh no. who could have ever seen that coming.

“ay- ah, i mean the commissioner?”

“indeed. you see, he’s been using his connections to keep the tenryou updated as best as he can, something any detective would appreciate, even if sometimes the information can be a bit lackluster. recently, he’s gotten a tip that the imposter was planning to leave inazuma tonight through ritou’s port, and madam sara sent me out to check it out. i, of course, looked over his evidence prior to coming, and though it was a little shaky, it’s the best lead we’ve had so far. i even heard from some fishermen that they saw somebody shady boarding a merchant boat, but… no dice.”

thoma’s grip on your hand adjusts, and he squeezes once. you don’t have much time to think it over. “i’m sorry to hear it. i can promise that we’re putting all of our effort into solving the situation as best as we can, and i regret letting them slip from our grasp.”

his voice lacks the usual depth behind it, like… like it’s rehearsed, almost. like he was prepared for this.

heizou’s eyes flick to you, jade green seeming to cut into your soul. “oh, naturally. this is such a pity, don’t you agree?”

subtext laces his words, and you’re left floating in the pause between his sentences. even as it stretches, his mouth slips up in a suppressed grin.

“after all, weren’t you the one who told him?”

you blink.

you didn’t do that. you didn’t tell ayato anything, you never even left the estate unless thoma—or, on occasion, ayaka—was by your side. you never had time to collect information, and you certainly didn’t give it to ayato- didn’t he say that the shuumatsuban gave it to him? didn’t he…

’i’ve just received news from the shuumatsuban that the imposter is likely in the area.’

’he’s been using his connections to keep the tenryou updated as best as he can, something any detective would appreciate…’

‘after all, weren’t you the one who told him?‘

you can see when heizou notices that you get it, the sharp light to his knowing gaze. he rests his chin in his hand and passes you a cheeky wink, one that makes you laugh.

kamisato ayato.

what did you expect?

#i am so sorry this took so long to come out #i wanted to finish ‘duality of man’ first and then the ‘plagued’ request had me in a chokehold #fun fact: every tea listed here exists!!! i did a lot of research on teas for this part :))#if ur curious i prefer black tea with an unreasonable amount of sweet; that may just be because i don’t make tea properly though #something i learned after finally finding the right way online. the box i got didn’t have any instructions so i fucked it up lmao #genshin #genshin impact #genshin sagau #sagau #thoma #sagau thoma #thoma x reader #ehhh sure #ayato #sagau ayato #kamisato ayato #kamisato ayaka #sagau ayaka #anybody wanna guess why i chose the nickname maple? there are two right answers and one is because thoma found you under a maple tree #shikanoin heizou #heizou #sagau heizou #genshin heizou #heizou my beloved <3 #i just think he’s a very cool character in a sagau context #esp. imposter aus. mr ultra instinct ’this is only 10% of my power’ falling — genuinely or not — for an imposter…#i just think he’s neat <3 #the pacing here is…. oh boy. but hey the plots good!

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quoththemaiden · 5 months

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Aziraphale: The Sword that Guards the Tree of Life

Looking where the furniture isn't

This post is dedicated to @meatballlady's excellent insistence that if we want to try to predict where season 3 will go, we need to look at where the furniture isn't. That is, what must have been there but wasn't shown?

For this one, my source material is going to be Genesis. That is, in no small part, because it does in fact fuck severely that Neil Gaiman and Terry Pratchett took the angel with the flaming sword and the serpent of Eden and made them kiss (@joycrispy, @ouidamforeman). It's also because Genesis, quite simply, exists, and it seems safe to assume that most everyone in Gaiman and Pratchett's intended audience has been exposed to at least its first few chapters dozens of times.

What does Genesis tell us about Aziraphale's purpose?

3:22 Then the Lord God said, “Behold, the man has become like one of Us, knowing good and evil; and now, he might reach out with his hand, and take fruit also from the tree of life, and eat, and live forever”— 23 therefore the Lord God sent him out of the Garden of Eden, to cultivate the ground from which he was taken. 24 So He drove the man out; and at the east of the Garden of Eden He stationed the cherubim and the flaming sword which turned every direction to guard the way to the tree of life.

@joycrispy's analysis above highlights Aziraphale's role as given in the last verse: as the angel chosen to wield the flaming sword, he was sent down after Adam and Eve were expelled to prevent them from returning. Instead, he chose to protect them by giving that sword away. His desire to protect humanity is indeed beautiful (@give-soup-please, @snek-eyes).

But wait, what came right before that? "And take fruit also from the tree of life...?"

2:9 Out of the ground the Lord God caused every tree to grow that is pleasing to the sight and good for food; the tree of life was also in the midst of the garden, and the tree of the knowledge of good and evil.

That's right: What we see in the show is that Adam and Eve were sent out of Eden so that they'd have to deal with the rain and the animals and have to work for their food, but that was never the primary motivation. God planted two special trees, and after Eve and Adam ate from one of them, God was terrified at the prospect of them turning around and eating from the other. And thus, the Garden of Eden was made off-limits and set to be permanently guarded by an angel with a flaming sword.

So, the flaming sword.

Twice now, Aziraphale's sword has helped humanity survive complete and total destruction (@nottobehornyonthemain). The first time, he handed the sword to the first two humans, which protected not just them but the entirety of the human race via Adam and very pregnant Eve.

The second time, he let it be wielded by The Them, who used it to best the Four Horsepeople of the Apocalypse and save the billions of humans already alive as well as unborn generations.

Perhaps the flaming sword was only intended as a plot point in the first season. However, if its purpose were completed, it could have easily been destroyed. As a narrative piece, it could have broken dramatically at the end of the face-off against the Four Horsepeople. Or, Watsonianly, God could have chosen to break it Herself; after all, it was already used against its intended purpose twice, so why let it keep existing?

Instead, it's carefully taken away to... where? Heaven?

The place Aziraphale is now going?

Or at least a place where he could likely find a record showing where it's being stored?

Whether you call it "rule of threes" or "Chekhov's gun," I think it likely that Aziraphale will be getting his sword back in season 3. He probably doesn't want it (@createserenity, @ineffableigh, @doctorscienceknowsfandom), but he'll need it.

The question, then, is what would Aziraphale do with the flaming sword he was given to prevent humans from reaching the tree of life?

If we're looking at where the furniture isn't, the biggest stretch of an interpretation would be to say that the missing furniture is the tree of life. If anyone knows where Eden is, it would be Aziraphale, Guardian of the Eastern Gate. We know that both Heaven and Hell want to end humanity. The opening credits have humanity walking to their judgment after their deaths; what better way to prevent that than by preventing those deaths?

The most intense version of this theory says that the audience should be familiar with the story of the Garden of Eden and know damn well that there are two special trees there and that Aziraphale was put in place to guard the second one — the one humanity hasn't eaten from yet, the one that grants immortal life. That's where, if I were truly trying to swing for the hills by aiming at where the furniture isn't, I would ideally like to end this post. If that were the case, season 3 could even open with Aziraphale walking towards the Garden of Eden, sword in hand, but this time approaching it from the outside with the intention of tearing the wall down.

But, let's be honest, making individual people immortal doesn't feel like it would fit with the themes of Good Omens, nor with Neil Gaiman or Terry Pratchett's world views.

So, let's take the tree of life symbolically: Instead of the tree of life granting individual humans immortality, it could instead represent giving humanity immortality. In that case, the thing that's where the furniture isn't is Aziraphale's sword. You know, the sword that's already saved the human race from extinction twice now, with both times being because Aziraphale gave it away.

I suspect that the sword will wind up in Aziraphale's hands again in season 3. I also quite suspect that it won't be staying there. In the end, I expect it will once again be up to humanity to reach out their hand to take the apple from that second tree.

#good omens #good omens meta #good omens season 2 #good omens season 3 #aziraphale #the guardian of the eastern gate #the sword #the tree of life #self post #did i overdo it with the citations?#writing this activated Essay Mode and i went all in on crediting my inspirations #if i could draw this post would definitely include a picture of aziraphale stalking towards eden through the desert with sword in hand #because even though i don't think it's likely it would be one heck of an epic scene #with him tiny and small under that great wall but so so so fierce and determined #alas that i cannot even manage stick figures #anyway i've been kicking this post around in my head for two months now so hopefully someone still finds it interesting!#(feel free to make your own guesses as to what parent of unborn generations might take up the flaming sword in season 3)

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kraniumet · 2 years

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they made talking about how weird and hilarious it was that some families would not let you eat with them when you visited them as a child not fun anymore :(

#it maybe happened me twice. the few people who still stand by it today are crazy individualists ✌️. i guess this is karma.#but the literal 1500-1945’s population of serfs who lived under a constant threat of starvation did not have to be dragged in the mud #for this. you did the best of the situation guys its not your fault the soil here is bad and you had access to nothing but grain #dried fish. spices made from different pine trees. and potato (later)#even if the land owners intentionally turned you against each other and made you constantly self-regulate via inwards-turned envy against #your fellow worker idk. i still feel you aren’t to blame for this in any way.#<- what reading a fugitive crosses his tracks does to a sensitive tumblrista #swedes are literally evil - sweden has a long long history of having an incredibly poor population living specifically under the acute #threat of starvation and i have empathy with that <- two statements that can coexist and only sometimes overlap #BUT HAS NO PLACE AS AN EXCUSE FOR THIS SEPARATE QUESTIONS OF SAD! BEHAVOUR #anyway barren ground scorched earth no pussy left wet ✌️

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nanaslutt · 4 months

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male squirting.... Satoru being overstimulated to the brink of tears ? 😵‍💫♡

contains: fem reader, kiinnndaaaa sub gojo :3, whiny gojo, hand jobs, overstimulation, squirting, multiple orgasms, praise, so much dirty talk, dacraphillia, lots of talk of cum

MDNI

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ

You were scrolling through Twitter and came across a video of a man tied to a chair, naked. A pair of hands that were neatly manicured was jerking him off rapidly, forcing orgasm after orgasm out of his cock. It wasn't anything you hadn't seen on twitter before, but twenty seconds later you would see something new. The woman was jerking him after his orgasm, the man whining and crying, his body trying to jerk away from her touch as he was pushed into overstimulation.

He started pleading with her to slow down, saying something felt weird, and that's when it happened, he squirted. It looked so intense, his body trembling and hunching over as he screamed through another forced orgasm. You squeezed your thighs together feeling yourself grow aroused between your legs, a vivid image popping into your head of trying this with Satoru. You replayed the video over a couple times, pretending the faceless pale man in the chair was your boyfriend, even though they shared no resemblance to one another.

You were sure Satoru would be up to trying something like this, the two of you had a very adventurous sex life and were always sharing new ideas with the other on fun things you could do in the bedroom, and this looked very fun. You quickly copied the link and switched to messages, sending it to your boyfriend who was currently at work. You hoped he wouldn't see your message until he had a break, but you had sent him worse things during worse moments, so it would be fine.

Moments after you had sent the video to Satoru, your phone lit up with his name big and bold on the screen, vibrating in your hand. "Satoru? Why are you calling me at work?" You asked, pressing your phone to your ear. "Tell me you want to do that to me, thats why you sent me that right?" He asked rushed, excitement laced in his tone. From the backround noise from Gojo's end of the call of birds chirping and leaves rusting through the trees with no voices besides his to be heard, you guessed he was supervising sparing and had stepped away.

"I dont think I need to ask if you want to try it then~" You laughed into the receiver. Gojo was currently leaning his head back against a building of Jujutsu high, his eyes scrunched shut as he imagined your hands on him, overstimulating him like the woman had done in the video. "Are you kidding? I'm all over that~" He cracked his eyes open, a smile gracing his features. "My pretty girlfriend making me squirt? didn't even know that was possible, I've been missing out." He sighed.

"Wanna give it a go tonight then? Wouldn't want you to miss out any longer." You said teasingly, biting your lip as you pressed your thighs together once more. "Why wait that long? I get off in an hour, I'll see you and your pretty hands then~" Gojo said singsong like into the phone. The two of you said your goodbyes before you ended the call, your fingers taking you back to the video so you could watch it over and over again, picking up some techniques the woman used that you could use on Satoru."

"She used a lot of lube so.. this is gonna get messy." You said, popping open the lid to the lube bottle you kept on your side table. Gojo was laid down on the bed, a towel under his ass as you sat on his thighs, one hand stroking his cute leaking cock, while your other squeezed the plastic bottle, watching the slippery substance drip down onto his cock in thick strands.

Gojo hissed when the cold lubricant came into contact with his dick, keeping his eyes on your slender hands wrapping around him. "If you make me squirt it's gonna get a hell of a lot messier too~" Gojo chimed in, biting his lip when you used one of your hands to wrap around his tip, rolling it around in circular motions in your palm, the other slowly jerking the rest of his massive length. "You will," you assured him, your eyes sliding up to make contact with his.

"Gotta say the safeword If it gets too much, kay Toru?" You asked, making sure he acknowledged your words before things got too intense. "Yeah yeah, F-fuuuck, I won't though~ I can take it." He said confidently, flashing you a cocky smile as you slowly and steadily jerked him off.

"Fuck.." Gojo murmured under his breath, his eyes dropping as he watched you work slowly on his dick, the copious amount of lube you used creating a loud and vulgar slick noise every time your hands moved on him. "It's so wet," Gojo groaned. You could feel his thighs flexing under your ass as he started getting into it. "Yeah? Does it feel good?" You asked, picking up the speed of both your hands a bit. "Yeah.. fuck- feels like I'm inside you." Gojo groaned, his jaw falling open and his breath picking up as he watched you jerk him off, both of your hands now screwing down the length of his cock together, making sure to squeeze at the tip.

"I feel this wet?" You almost laughed, taking note of how the lube coated his balls and was steadily dripping down the insides of his thighs. "You're wetter." He smirked back, his smile quickly fading when you paused one of your hands, opting to rub right under the head of his cock while the other kept jerking him off. You bit your lip, noticing how his eyes were rolling back in his head. "Feel good right here, Toru?" You asked, pressing your thumb into his frenulum with more force, a shaky whimper leaving his lips.

"So fucking good," Satoru praised, pulling his hip between his teeth. You slid the pad of your thumb from his frenulum to the slit on his tip in a smooth rhythm, up and down, up and down, making Satoru groan through clenched teeth. "Oh fuck- keep fucking doing that- sh-it." Gojo was humping his hips into your fist, chasing the stimulation, making your body bounce slightly on top of his thighs. "Satoru quit moving, let me do all the work." You spoke softly, giving his shaft harsh strokes that made him whine.

"Okay- okay, baby- just please don't stop, please." He replied with an aroused smile plastered on his face. You giggled at his desperation, continuing your ministrations on his cock so he didn't grow any needier. "I won't Toru, I got you~" you assured. His head flopped back onto the pillows with a groan when you started stroking him with both hands once again, rotating your hands up and down the length of his cock, making the coil in his tummy rapidly tighten itself up.

"Fuck- fuck me baby fuck-" Satoru whined through his teeth, the words strung together as he tipped his head down, nodding as you jerked his cock quick and rough, making his body wiggle around on the sheets. "You like that? Like when I jerk you off like this?" You cooed, biting your lip as you darted your eyes back and forth between his flushed cock and his pretty face scrunched up in pleasure.

Your words went straight to his cock, if you weren't gripping him so hard you might've been able to feel how hard he twitched in your hands. "God I fucking love it, baby, makin' me feel so g-good." Gojo groaned through his teeth. He really wanted to keep watching you but he physically could not keep his head up anymore. He let his head fall back into the pillows once more, screwing his eyes shut as he let you work him up to his high. "Shit.. I feel it coming pretty girl.." Your boyfriend let you know, his breathing picking up when he felt his balls start to tighten, the warmth in his belly growing warmer and warmer, all telltale signs of his orgasm approaching.

"You got this baby, gonna fuck you through it and you're gonna take what I give you like a good boy, isn't that right?" You spoke sweetly, a teasing tilt to your voice as you hyped him up. He nodded his head against the pillows, keeping his eyes shut, face still screwed in pleasure, his jaw clenching and unclenching as he tried to brace himself for what was to come. "Gonna take it, 'm your good boy, baby~" Satoru responded, trying to smile through his arousal.

You felt his warm cock pulse strongly against your fingers at the same time his breathing stilled, right before the first rope of his cum shot out of his dick and splattered onto his abdomen. Gojo groaned loudly through his teeth, his body jerking inwards at every wave of his orgasm. "Yeah~ Good boy, just like that, keep cumming for me Toru~" You praised, jerking your hands rapidly over his dick, coating your fingers and his cock in his cum, mixing with the lube already smothered on his cock.

"Shit- s-shit- nnghhh-" Gojo groaned through his orgasm, his hips jerking up into your hand as he came. You continued to stroke him through the aftershocks of his high, which was bearable for the first four seconds before he started fighting the pleasure you were giving him. Whines and gasps were being pulled from his lips when you didn't slow down your hands on his cock, keeping up the mean rough pace on his length, simultaneously twisting your palm over his too-sensitive cockhead.

His hips jerked back, into the sheets as he tried to excape your ruthless hands, his chin shot down to his chest as he watched you sit on top of him, lip pulled between your teeth as you tried to work him through his overstimulation. "Ffffffuck!" He finally vocalized, his entire body thrashing and twitching agaisnt the sheets, knees trying to curl upwards, thighs pressing together, anything to excape the overbearing pleasure that wouldn't stop coming.

"You're doing so good baby, so good, don't fight it." You talked him through it, trying to get his overwhelmed brain to slow down. "Oh-ohmygod it's too much-" He cried, his hands heaving the pillows he was gripping next to his head and slapping down on your thighs, digging his nails into the skin there. You swear you saw tears forming in his eyes before he screwed them shut once more, his jaw falling slack as he turned his head back and forth against the pillows, he looked so hot like this.

"You wanna squirt don't you baby? I thought you could take it, must not want it that bad." You teased, trying a different method to instill the confidence in him that he needed in this moment to get through this. "N-no I want it- wanna- wanna squirt-" He whined, his breathing starting to even out, his overstimulation must be fizzling out. "That's right, that's my good boy Toru." You smirked proudly down at him, finally noticing your own arousal that was throbbing between your legs.

"Goddd~ l-love when you call me that~" He giggled, his eyes cracking open as he tilted his head to the side so he could see you, keeping his head pressed into the pillows. You giggled before rubbing your thumb against his frenulum again. His breath hitched, his nails digging into your thigh right before cum shot out of his cock again, weaker this time. The ropes of his seed barely made it to his abdomen, most of it coating your fingers and easing the slide over his cock, making it impossibly more slippery.

"You really like it right here, huh?" You asked, continuing to massage the spot in little circles as you worked his seed out of his shaft. Gojo's body jerked forward, his legs shaking with the intensity of his second orgasm so soon after the first. He stayed silent, his mouth agape as he let you work him through his high. He came down with a gasp, greedily swallowing air into his lungs, panting when he was once again granted the short intermission before his cock was assaulted with your hands overstimulating him.

This time, you did see the tears fall down his cheeks when you didn't stop. The squelches emitting from his cock were sooo loud, so lewd, you guaranteed if you pulled your panties down right now, they would be flooded. The lube and cum created such a mess on your fingers as you rapidly stroked over him, your hand looking like a blur from how fast your pace was. One of Gojo's hands gripped your wrist harshly, almost stopping the movements completely. Good thing you had another hand, you used it to rotate over his tip, slightly punishing him for trying to stop you.

"Baby s-stop- stop I c-cant I c-cant do it-" Gojo cried, fat tears falling over his flushed cheeks, wetting the hair on the side of his face. He didn't say the safeword, but he sounded so desperate so you slowed your hand ever so slightly before you spoke, "This is gonna be the one Toru, just one more and you're gonna squirt for me, promise." You encouraged, nodding at him when he cracked his lids open, teary eyes locking onto yours. "Ohhhhmygod I don't know If- Ugh-" He tried protesting, raking his nails into your thighs.

"You can do it, you're so close baby, so close, it's gonna feel so fucking good." His hand had loosened his grip on your wrist, his head weakly nodding at your words. "I- I think I'm gonna cum already-" His words cut off with a whine, his chest heaving as he took sharp breaths into his lungs, high-pitched wines spilling from his lips as he felt his third orgasm come on. This time it felt a little different, it felt deeper, stronger, he couldn't really explain it, all he could do was take the painful pleasure, letting your hands milk him dry as his tired body tried its best to relax against the sheets.

The towel under his ass was already soaked with cum and lube, and you figured it was about to get a whole lot wetter, you weren't sure why you bothered putting a towel down in the first place.

Gojo started leaking under your thumb, a substance thinner than his cum spurting out of his cock in little amounts. "Baby- baby fuck- It- I cant- I cant-" He wined, losing his composure when he felt it creep over him. This new sensation was taking over his whole body, everything from the tips of his toes to his ears felt flushed, he felt like he was suffocating with how hard it was to take a good breath into his lungs, the feeling making him hyperventilate.

"You can, I got you, baby, I'm right here, let it out, squirt for me Toru~" You encouraged, jerking him off with more vigor, continuing to rub your thumb over his frenulum and flushed tip, steadily leaking the liquid. His thighs rapidly clenched under yours, his chin dropping to his chest to watch his dick, his intense eyes waiting to see something miraculous happen right when his orgasm hit. And fuck did something happen.

A clear liquid sprayed out of his cock, the stream coming out stuttered as you jerked him through it, moaning with him. "Oh my god you're doing it baby, good fucking job, fucking give it to me Toru~" You groaned, slamming your hands down on the length of his cock, fucking his orgasm out of him. He was being so loud, you were lucky your neighbors lived a good distance away, or they might call the cops because it seriously sounded like someone was being tortured, and in a way, he was.

His body shook and trembled, even after you slowed your hands on him. Tears streamed down his bright red face as his eyes fought to stay forward in their sockets, his hands weakly twitching against your thighs, nails digging into the skin. You leaned forward, wiping your hands off on the bed sheets before you took his teary face in your hands, pressing kisses to his open mouth, sweaty forehead, blushed nose, anywhere your lips could touch.

"Good boy Toru, good fucking boy." You giggled, wiping his tear-soaked hair away from his face as his glossy eyes made eye contact with yours, his hands wrapping around your waist. "How did that feel? Was it everything you thought it would be?" You giggled. His body twitched under you, your boyfriend's chest still heaving up and down rapidly. "Better, I love you, l-love you." He stuttered, closing his eyes as you pressed kisses to his tearstain cheeks and eyelids.

"C-couldn't have done that without you." He whispered, wrapping his arms around your body and pressing your weight onto him, his sticky cock sticking to your clothes in the process, but you would worry about that later, Satoru needed your utmost attention to calm down right now. "I love you too, my amazing boy~" You praised, letting him pull you tighter, your head digging into his neck as you pressed little kisses into the skin there.

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yaksha-lover · 5 months

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Someone New

Summary: Travelling worlds has its side effects; namely, having visions of multiple timelines. As you get closer to the housewardens after their overblots, you begin to see the possible future that awaits the two of you, if only you decide to choose them.

Overblot gang x Reader (Riddle, Leona, Azul, Jamil, Vil, Idia, Malleus)

GN but mentions of biological children - imagine anything you want though (magic spells that make anything possible!)

i. blooms of red and bursts of reason; riddle rosehearts

Even after knowing him for months, you don’t touch Riddle until long after his overblot. He isn’t truly comfortable with you, with anyone, touching him so casually.

The chill of autumn ghosts your skin, making goosebumps rise along your arms. When he notices you rubbing your forearms to gather some warmth, Riddle insists on offering you his coat. Something about ‘rule five hundred and nine.’

His ways don’t always make sense to you, but you appreciate the sentiment behind the action. You take his coat, uttering your gratitude to him, although it’s quite small considering his stature. He offers you a small smile; in Riddle’s case, you know that means a lot.

You can’t help but return his smile, the small affection making your heart stir suddenly. It’s nice - spending time alone with Riddle. At the beginning of the year, you’d never have imagined becoming close with him. It was hard to see past the strict housewarden who never let anything go.

You think he’d made assumptions about you too. About you being a troublemaker, someone not worth his time, just another problem. You’re thankful you’ve both come around.

You stare at him from the corner of your eye as you walk together. He truly is gentle at heart, despite what his temper might suggest. His red hair sits perfectly on his head, cutely framing his face. It makes you think of his mother; his hair is perhaps the only good thing she passed onto him.

You snap out of your thoughts when you step a little too hard into a puddle and accidentally splash your pants, slightly dirtying them. Riddle turns when he hears your grumble, and you prepare yourself for a scolding. You won’t hold it against him; it was your fault for being careless.

Instead, Riddle only shakes his head gently, before asking if you’d like to stop at Ramshackle to change before you two arrive at the library.

Your surprise forces you to take a moment and just look at him. So far he’s come from the person he was only a couple months ago. You feel strangely sentimental, so you reach out to touch his shoulder, intending to thank him.

As soon as you make contact with him, the world around you shifts, brown and orange leaves being traded for the bright green of spring.

You sit under a pagoda tree, the wind gently blowing the pages of your novel. It’s strange - you’re seeing things as yourself, but you’re not in control. It’s as though you’re replaying the memory of someone else. At the sound of someone’s voice, ‘you’ look up. It’s there that you spot familiar red hair; it forms a stark contrast to the vegetation around you.

He’s not alone, either. In Riddle’s arms is a small baby, with identical hair to who you presume is his father. It’s a striking image - Riddle with his child. He’s noticeably older; if you had to guess, he seems to be in his late twenties.

“MC? Sorry to bother, but he’s been refusing to eat today. I checked our parenting books thrice, but I haven’t found any suitable solutions. I thought you might know how to help him.”

“That’s okay,” you hear your voice say. “How is our little guy doing?”

Riddle passes the baby to you, and you finally take notice of his other features; this child has the same colour eyes as you, and a similarly shaped nose.

You then catch a glimpse of the ring sparking on your left hand, and the other on Riddle’s.

“Hmm,” you’re vision-self says. “Let’s go back home, I’ll try to see what’s bothering him.”

“Alright, dear. I’ll start on dinner,” older-Riddle replies.

He takes your hand and helps you up, before you walk back toward the house in the distance, your hand still in his.

When the greens turn to orange, you blink, finding Riddle looking at you. You’re back at NRC.

“Are you alright, prefect? You seem distracted.”

“I’m okay, Riddle. I just…never mind. Let’s get going.”

You decide not to tell him about your strange…Dream? Vision? It all seemed so real…you could smell the tree sap and feel the breeze flow against your skin. You held a baby. Your baby…with Riddle? The two of you were older, but would it really be possible for it to truly be your future? That seemed ridiculous. Then again, you thought the same thing about magic a few months ago.

You resolve to keep this strange occurrence to yourself until you can figure out what happened. It’s hard to look at Riddle, having now seen the two of you married and with a child together. You’re more flustered than usual. Was this just some kind of daydream projection of your fantasies about him? You weren’t even really sure you could say you have a ‘crush’ on him - after all, you’ve only recently begun getting close. Not that you haven’t thought of him that way at all but-

You’re sure Riddle takes notice of your strange behaviour throughout your study session but, thankfully, he doesn’t comment on it.

ii. dizzying dreams and endless nights; leona kingscholar

You’d fought Leona hard to get where you are now - on the left side of his bed, with Grim sleeping at the base. You’re exhausted with everything going on with Azul (hopefully) temporarily taking your dorm, but it’s hard to sleep with how worried you are about the situation.

Leona’s room is dim, moonlight cascading over the silk sheets. You can barely make out his form, curled up in the blankets and turned away from you.

You don’t want to disturb the sleeping lion, but he happens to be hogging the entire blanket. You suppose you should’ve known, but it wasn’t as though you had time to take anything from Ramshackle.

When the chill becomes too much to ignore, you try to tug part of the blanket away from him. This causes Leona to roll over, arm suddenly falling around your back.

You’re hit with another wave of blurry vision as the moon melts into the sun.

“Morning,” you hear a voice, your voice, say to him. Your tone is playful and lightheartedly chastising. You can feel his arms wrapped snuggly around you.

It’s happening again, the same as with Riddle. You’re seeing things from your own eyes, but you’re not in control.

A groan comes from behind you, Leona shuffling his position but refusing to open his eyes. His bare legs brush yours under the covers. “Too early. Go back to sleep.” He pulls you closer into his chest.

‘You’ laugh gently, turning around in his arms so you’re now face to face. “You promised the queen we would attend this banquet. Especially after we missed the last one.”

He looks older here too, but as gorgeous as ever. Despite just waking up, Leona’s dark hair falls perfectly around his face. The room is different than his one at school; it’s still a bedroom, but it looks as though you’re back in the castle of Sunset Savanna.

Leona finally opens his eyes, looking at you with a heavy gaze before flipping you below him. His arms hold him straight above you, looking down on you lying prone on the bed. “Hmph.” He leans in close until your lips are only millimetres apart. “We have some time, don’t we?”

You’re left staring into those piercing green eyes, entranced by them being closer than ever.

With that, he leans in completely, lips brushing over your own as he begins to kiss you. The longer it goes, the more ravenous he becomes, more and more greedy for the taste of your lips.

When the sunlight fades to moonlight, you’re left embarrassed. That was - so much worse than with Riddle?! Ugh, it’s so awkward with Leona sleeping beside you now, like you’ve violated some kind of rule by thinking of him that way.

You’re too afraid to even consider the possibility of it being some kind of dream. It came on so suddenly, but you hadn’t been asleep. The whole thing seemed so real, too elaborate for a simple dream. No, it had to be more than that - some kind of vision - but how could that be true? And what did that mean about your vision with Riddle? Surely they couldn’t both be correct.

You’d intended on ignoring it before, but with Leona’s vision, that seemed futile. Perhaps the staff would have some answers for you…

iii. seashells shimmer in the forever sea; azul ashengrotto

Azul isn’t one for touching, and this time neither are you. Ever since the Crowley’s theory about alternate universes and rips in time since you’ve travelled worlds, you’ve decided it’s best to stay away from touching too many people. It was…interesting, to see a possible future with Riddle and Leona, but it’s certainly left you ambivalent. It’s a bit difficult not to avoid them when your mind drifts to your ‘visions’ while in their vicinity.

Riddle is kind enough to ignore your sudden shyness, but Leona has openly called you out on how flustered you get around him. He seems both confused and amused about the development, and his smugness is too much to handle sometimes.

Fortunately for you, Leona doesn’t hang around the Mostro Lounge much, making it the perfect place for you to avoid him. You try to force Ace and Deuce to come with you and study there, but the two have been reluctant considering their previous encounters with the twins while trying to get Azul’s picture.

That means you’re left to go alone, sometimes. Well, alone except for Grim. He never leaves you hanging as long as you agree to buy him food. Just like today, where he sits passed out across the other side of the booth, having eaten himself into a food coma.

You try to return to your homework, but out of the corner of your eye, you catch Azul staring at you from the staff area. When you make eye contact, he only waves, smile dripped in plasticity. When you don’t clue in, he walks toward your table, eventually taking a seat across from you, beside Grim.

“Hello, Prefect,” he says.

“Azul.”

Unlike Riddle - and even to some extent, Leona - you haven’t really gotten close to Azul after his overblot. He doesn’t exactly want you to, it seems.

“I noticed you’ve been frequenting the Lounge quite frequently as of late - I just wanted to thank you, for being a dedicated patron.”

“I’m not doing it for you, but you’re welcome, I guess.”

“Ah yes, I presumed. So, who are you doing it for?”

Your mind snaps to thoughts of you and Leona in the future, his arms around you in his bed-

“Nothing. No one. Do you need something, Azul?”

Despite your attempt at neutrality, Azul must see something on your face as you attempt to rid your mind of your vision of Leona. He leans in a bit, curious to observe you.

You begin packing up your things, too distracted to continue studying.

“No need to leave on my account,” he says.

“It’s not.”

He stands at the same time as you, presumably planning to head back to his office. Unfortunately for the both of you, you hadn’t noticed Grim migrate to his place sleeping on the floor. When you take a step forward and trip, Azul is, tragically, directly in front of you.

Your arms reach out instinctively, but instead of stabilizing yourself by grabbing onto his shoulders, the force of your fall knocks the both of you over.

As soon as you make contact with him, your vision swirls into another world full of beautiful blues.

The coral sea is even more breathtaking than you remember. You’ve only been a couple times, but the drastic differences between the land and ocean always manage to stun you. The water is so clear that it practically glitters as you wave your hands through it, feeling the water pass refreshingly across your smooth skin.

You’ve never been to this specific place before (presumably, it doesn’t exist yet), but it’s clear what it is: a restaurant. If the octopus logo has anything to do with it, clearly it’s Azul’s. It wasn’t too surprising to you that he would have more restaurants open in the future, but you weren’t sure what you were doing here. If the pattern followed, it seemed inevitable that you and Azul would be…romantically-involved in this timeline, but that just didn’t seem possible.

At least you had befriended Riddle and Leona to an extent - Azul looked down on your existence as a magicless person, seemingly entirely apathetic about you in general. You had to admit, the feelings were mutual considering his treatment of you and your friends.

You feel ‘yourself’ look around the restaurant, before heading back into the staff area. You knock on the door to an office, and Azul opens it with a smile.

He, too, is older. His face has matured a bit and he also wears his hair a bit longer. Azul still has his grey suit, though.

“Hello, MC. Done for the day?”

“I guess so, boss,” your voice replied cheekily. Boss?? Why would your future self ever work for-

“Hmm, I may have more tasks for you, why don’t you come in~”

With that, future-Azul takes your hand and tugs you into his office. On his desk sits several picture frames; one of his parents and one of his wedding. You happened to spot yourself in the second one.

It’s a bit jarring to see; you and Azul posed together, dressed up in such fancy clothing. His arm sits around your shoulder, and yours around his waist. Before this, the two of you have never even shook hands.

You hear yourself giggling, cornering Azul against the wall as soon as he closes the door and bringing your arms around his neck to kiss him.

You can already feel the dread forming; you definitely won’t be able to spend time at the Mostro Lounge after this…

As the two of you pull away, Azul starts talking about a reunion for your graduating class at NRC.

“I told them maybe - with the new branch of our restaurant opening, we may wish to stay back. Then again, it could be a great opportunity to network for us. What do you think, dear?”

Before you can hear your reply, the world fades back into the familiar lighting of the Mostro Lounge.

A groaning Azul is beneath you, having (unfortunately for him) broken your fall.

You utter a quiet ‘sorry!’ as you get off of him, still a bit flustered from your vision.

He gets up, dusting himself off. Thankfully, the two of you are in a rather secluded area of the place, so no one was there to witness your embarrassment.

Azul can no longer maintain the facade of kind gentleman as he turns back to you, voice dripping with passive aggressiveness.

“I would prefer if you refrained from touching me in the future. Thank you.”

With that, he gets up and leaves. You shake your head - how could there possibly be any timeline where you’ve married him?

iv. jaded jewels shine, awaken from slumber; jamil viper

While helping out with the VDC, you’ve had time to get close to Jamil. Much closer, in fact, than with any of the others you’ve had visions of before. Now you’ve avoided touching him for a whole other reason - you’re scared you won’t have a vision.

Spending time with Jamil has made you realize things you’d never thought about him before - his handsomeness, intelligence, and talent. You’ve developed a bit of a crush on him, considering how much you admire him.

However, you have no idea how he feels. Jamil has never been one to express his feelings so outwardly, but you can’t get a read on him at all. He’s been polite with you, but he’s treated you basically the same as everyone else.

Your attempts at getting closer to him have been rather unsuccessful - the group is so busy practicing, everyone’s been way too exhausted to really do anything.

You manage to get a moment alone at Ramshackle when the rest of the boys have gone to sleep, and you find Jamil sitting out on the porch alone.

“Hey,” you say. “Mind if I join you?”

Jamil turns to look at you before nodding his head. You take a seat beside him, following his gaze to the stars. The sky is dark but the moon casts a glow on him, making Jamil look beautiful under the light.

“What are you thinking about?”

He hums for a moment before replying, “What I’m always thinking about - how things will just go back to normal again after the end of the VDC.”

You don’t really know what to say; his fears seem inevitable, no matter how much you want to comfort him. “I’m sorry…I can’t understand what it’s like for you, but…what if you could still have some kind of happiness in your life?”

“Like what?”

“I don’t know…you could still find love?”

“Find love? You think that’s what I care about?” Jamil’s tone is bitter, but his voice never rises. “Sorry, but you’re awfully naive. Things like love won’t make my life better. It’ll only complicate things.”

“I-I understand.”

When your voice shakes, Jamil finally looks up at you, sighing when he spots your watery eyes.

“Prefect, relax. I’m not angry at you. It’s just a frustrating situation for me, I’m sure you know. I don’t have time to think about love. I just need to focus on myself.”

With that, he pats your shoulder before standing up, leaving you alone to stare at the night sky. Jamil hadn’t even realized you were trying to confess to him, and you felt terrible for even trying to bring it up. Of course he wouldn’t be able to think about something like your stupid little crush - you feel so silly for even bringing it up, you should’ve known better since you know all about his circumstances.

It was then you realized - Jamil had touched you for the first time. He touched you and nothing happened.

The first one you’d been seriously interested in, and there seemed to be no future for the two of you.

Was it possible you’d already messed up this timeline, making it impossible for that future with him to occur? The whole thing made your head spin and your heart ache.

v. swept into spotlights, doused in delicacy; vil schoenheit

Vil had been a surprising comfort in the wake of your unrequited crush on Jamil. The two of you had gotten closer after VDC, and Vil had a way of pulling honesty out of you. It had only taken him a couple days of observing your awkwardness to guess at the situation.

He’d been a shoulder to cry on, both literally and figuratively. There’d been a moment when he first pulled you into his arms that you’d wondered - hoped - that he might be a possibility in your future, but alas, no vision. It was a bit disappointing but you knew it was wrong to feel too badly; it would be greedy of you to desire a connection with so many knowing you could only end up with one.

Vil became a friend - someone you could rely on, someone who could make you laugh, and someone who couldn’t break your heart.

Even when you would start to feel something more than platonic for him, you had to push it away. He was certainly gorgeous and talented and perfect…but he wouldn’t be that for you. He couldn’t, apparently, and maybe he wouldn’t want to either.

Vil was more than just a fellow student - he was an actor, a model, a celebrity - someone too far to reach. Even if you had a vision with him, would it matter?

You’re snapped out of your thoughts by Vil’s hand on your cheek, turning your face to get the correct angle to apply your eyeliner; he’d insisted you get dressed up with him and Rook to go out tonight.

“Move onto the bed,” Vil says.

You stand from the chair in front of his vanity and move hesitantly toward his bed. His silky sheets look perfect - you don’t want to ruin them. Looking back at him, Vil rolls his eyes and gently pushes you toward the bed until you lay back.

You’re left staring up at him on your back, while he sits above you, applying the rest of his products on your face. He’s so close to you, his luscious golden hair almost tickles your face. His pretty purple eyes don’t focus on your own, following his makeup brush.

He looks cute like this, concentrating hard to perfect your makeup. He bites his lip gently, drawing your attention to his pretty mouth, shining with the pink gloss he’d applied earlier.

When he leans away to pick up the blush, you mistakenly think he’s finished and try to sit up. At the same time that you rise, Vil turns back to face you. The timing coincides into an accidental and brief meeting of your lips.

It takes a second for you to realize that the dizziness your feel isn’t due to your racing heart, but the sudden appearance of another vision.

The lights flash, bright and blinding. The sharp clicks of cameras obnoxiously disrupt the music heard softly on the street from nearby restaurants and clubs.

You’re rushing away with Vil, hand in hand as he pulls you toward a black limo waiting up ahead. You nearly stumble, but Vil is quick to stabilize you.

Once the two of you escape the paparazzi, you’re left sitting side by side in the backseat of the limo, both breathing heavily. Vil gives the driver instructions to return back to his penthouse.

He turns to you. “Are you okay, darling?”

You feel yourself nod in affirmation, taking ahold of his hand again. He squeezes back.

“I’m sorry they’ve ruined another date. I know it’s hard for you not to have much privacy, but it seems no matter what I do, they find us.” He strokes your hand with his thumb.

“It’s okay, Vil. I knew what I was getting into, dating a celebrity and all that.”

He plants a kiss on your cheek. “Still, they shouldn’t bother us. I may be a celebrity, but you aren’t. You deserve privacy.” He sighs gently. “Has this…impacted our previous discussion?”

You look back up at him. You assume based on past visions that he’s much older now, but he’s kept his youthful and gorgeous look. Even now, his purple eyes make your heart flutter embarrassingly.

“Of course not. I want us to have kids together. You’ll be the best dad and protect them from all this. I know it.”

He kisses you on the lips this time just as your vision begins to end.

Vil snaps his fingers over you as you come too, rolling his eyes.

“I know my lips are practically intoxicating, but did you really get that worked up over an accidental peck between friends?”

Your face becomes hot at Vil’s statement, embarrassment setting in. He doesn’t know how right he is.

“Ah, sorry. I got…distracted.”

Vil laughs gently. “Why? Thinking of more of my kisses? They’ll cost you~”

When you stammer in response, he just ruffles your hair gently.

“I’m just teasing you.”

You stare at him for a moment before speaking. “I don’t think we can do each other’s makeup platonically anymore.” If it ever was, that is.

Vil rolls his eyes dramatically again.

vi. hidden in shadows, warmth comes in waves; idia shroud

The incident with Vil leaves you even more confused than before. It makes you wonder…if just touching isn’t always enough to have a vision, does that mean a future where you end up with Jamil is still possible? You don’t even want to hope, knowing the heartache he’d unknowingly caused you before.

And Vil…having a vision about him makes this complicated. When it was just lingering thoughts you could push to the side of your mind, your growing infatuation with him was easy to ignore. Actually seeing your future with him, has made your heart swell and ache at the same time.

You don’t exactly choose to become friends with Idia, it just kind of happens. Just like the previous situations where you’d attempted to avoid the star of your latest vision, Idia is someone who seems like a good choice to help you stay away from them. He isn’t good friends with Jamil or Vil (or frankly anyone). Incidentally, the two of you become friends after a small argument over an anime (the only topic that allows Idia to temporarily overcome his social anxiety just to disagree with you), and you begin to hang out occasionally.

The more your old friends hang out with the VDC group, the more you begin to make excuses and go play video games with Idia and Ortho.

It feels strangely easy, spending time with Idia. You never have to pretend, and with your shared interests, conversation comes naturally. Once you’ve spent enough time around him, he feels much more comfortable around you, willing to share his (strong) thoughts and opinions on everything.

Idia is very…different than you would’ve guessed before you knew him well. While he can be rude, you find it more funny than offensive, and it’s pretty fun to banter with him. His room holds small glimpses into his true personality; video games he loves, posters of his favourite characters. His passion for these things is clear as day.

Sitting on Idia’s couch, you’re playing against him and Ortho in Super Smash Bros. Ortho immediately claimed Kirby, proceeding to destroy the both of you multiple times until he emerged as the winner.

Despite the loss, both you and Idia can’t help but smile. Ortho makes a celebratory noise, before turning back to you.

“MC, we are about to encounter another rip in the time continuum,” Ortho says. “I’m so excited, do you think it will finally be my big brother’s turn to earn your love?”

“What?” you and Idia say for different reasons.

“How do you know about that?

“Earn their love??”

“It’s part of my programming to monitor all things involving space and time.”

“Huh. Okay.”

You suppose it’s true, you’ve never really touched Idia before. The two of you got along like best friends; it wasn’t so much of a stretch to say you could end up having a future together. You hadn’t thought about it much, in light of recent events.

“Usually you’re the only one able to see, but since Idia’s here, why don’t I show him too!”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea, Ortho,” Idia says.

“I think it will be good for you, brother! Don’t worry, I’ll give the both of you some privacy to see your future. It’s approaching in three, two-”

When his countdown reaches one, Ortho plops your hand on top of Idia, making your vision fade once again.

The Island of Woe is familiar to you by now, after everything that went down with Idia. The architecture remains impersonal; the uniformity of the blank steel walls reminds you of a maze. The thought had unsettled you, the last time you visited.

Strangely enough, you don’t feel that same sense of anxiety and claustrophobia in this vision. You’re strangely calm; it wouldn’t be crazy to assume that exposure and familiarity has dulled these feelings.

The scene is devastatingly unsurprising. You suppose you’d always known what Idia’s future would be; what all his ancestors futures had been. That hadn’t lessened the spark of hope you’d been carrying that perhaps things might turn out differently than he believed.

You had a bad habit of that: false hope for Jamil, false hope for Idia. It didn’t truly do anyone any good, no matter how much you wished it to.

You’re in Idia’s room. Aside from its size and how nice it is, the decor is a clear giveaway. The posters that line the walls aren’t from media you recognize, so it must be future content, but it’s all in line with Idia’s current tastes. You’re happy he has that, at least. You even catch a glimpse of a couple of his old posters from NRC rolled up in his closet. A few pieces even stand out, things that seem much more suited to your taste than his own.

A familiar head of blue hair wanders into the room.

“Hey MC.”

“Hi Idia,” you feel your lips gently pull up in the corners. Despite ‘your’ outward expression in the vision, you feel a small twinge of pain in your chest.

Idia’s entrance into his room (your room?) lets you take a close look at him. Even ten or so years later, it seems he hasn’t been able to rid himself of his eye bags. Even so, you still think he looks nice, his vibrant hair illuminating his pretty face. He’s cute, smiling back at you.

“Sorry I’m back late again. There’s been so many problems with the new system update, even Ortho can’t handle it himself.” Idia’s expression drops a little.

“It’s okay, I know you’re busy.”

Idia comes to sit beside you on the bed, head turning toward you. “Is it though? Stuck down here with me, and I can’t even be by your side half the time. I doubt this is the life you- anyone would dream of.”

“I miss you, of course I do. But I chose this life. I chose you.”

“Maybe you shouldn’t have.”

The tears well in your eyes before you can stop them, and Idia’s panic only rises once he notices.

“Gah!! No, MC, please don’t cry. I didn’t mean it like that. Sevens, I’m so stupid.” Idia awkwardly pulls you into his arms, and you begin wipe your tears onto his shoulder as you settle down.

“Sorry, I-I don’t know what came over me,” you sniffle.

“Don’t apologize, it was my fault. I don’t know why, every time I try to tell you how I feel, it always just comes out wrong. I try to tell you that I love you, that you deserve better than to be stuck here with me, and it comes out like that.”

“Idia…I know what you meant, it just took me by surprise to hear those words.”

“Loving you is supposed to be the one thing I can do to make your life here better, and I can’t even do it right.”

“Says who? Don’t you think I should be the judge of that?”

“I made you cry, MC! Something is wrong with me…”Idia’s cheeks flush pink as he stares at his feet.

You want to comfort him, to tell him that it doesn’t matter, but you quickly feel yourself being pulled away. You’ve never wished more than to have a few more moments in a vision.

The room remains silent for a minute after the vision ends, the both of you trying to process what had happened.

“Idia…” you say, trying to bridge the gap between you, but not exactly knowing how.

“Maybe- I uh - maybe you should leave?” Idia says sheepishly.

“Leave? What did I do?” you say, feeling a bit hurt by his suddenly rejection.

“Nothing! I just- I’m sorry, I need some time. I can’t speak right now, I need to be alone.” Idia is clearly panicked, so you follow his brother to the exit.

“Sorry, MC,” Ortho says, opening the door for you. “Sometimes Idia gets overwhelmed in situations like this. Please, give him time and…please don’t give up on him like everyone else does.”

vii. sun and moon, forever in orbit; malleus draconia

You’ve known Malleus as long as you’ve known Riddle, but despite your blooming friendship, you’ve never had the chance to touch him before. The fae always seemed to prefer to keep his distance when visiting you at Ramshackle; close enough to talk, too far to touch.

That all changes when you finally agree to join the gargoyle studies club. It’s not as though you’d purposefully avoided it before, there’d just always been too much going on to really think about joining any of the clubs.

With Idia shutting you out, you were in dire need of a new hobby that would allow you to finally avoid thinking about what had gone down with him in the days before.

When Malleus finally strolls by Ramshackle again, you’re able to inform him of your intention to join his club.

It’s a remarkable thing, having stunned the fae prince into momentary silence at your request. He furrows his brow before replying.

“I do hope you aren’t making a joke at my expense, prefect. That would be rather cruel of you.”

You wave away his words, telling him that you’re entirely serious. He looks you up and down for a moment before a playful grin pulls at his lips.

“I suppose I will see you in our meeting on thursday, then. Please, don’t be late. We have much to see.”

Weekly meetings become bi-weekly, and soon you’re meeting up with Malleus almost daily. Since it’s only the two of you in the club, you take certain liberties when it comes to subject matter. You agree to let Malleus show you some ruins and he, in turn, agrees to watch the bachelor with you.

You don’t even like the show, but Malleus’ reactions are the real entertainment. He’s surprisingly sassy and opinionated about all the drama, although he tends to get confused on ‘human customs’ as he so puts it.

“Why won’t he make a choice? It’s clear who he truly desires,” Malleus asks one day, sitting on Ramshackle’s beat up couch as you watch the reality show together on your laptop.

“I don’t know, the guys on this show are always like this. They want to keep around as many options as possible until they’re forced to choose,” you mumble, mouth full of popcorn.

“Human men are fickle.”

You laugh. “Fae aren’t?”

He takes a moment to answer. “Some. Not dragon fae. Once we choose a person to love, we give everything to them, and expect the same in return.”

You don’t know how to reply to that, so you turn back to the screen. Throughout the rest of the episode, you can feel Malleus’ gaze flicker between yourself and the show, not fully invested like you are.

You’re not oblivious to his hints. It’s clear that things between you are become more than friendly, but it’s difficult to know how you feel about it.

On one hand, Malleus has always felt strangely charming to you, despite how he often came off to others. There was something about him, or perhaps just the sum of his parts that came together perfectly to make him into a wonderful being.

Spending time together and getting close felt nice, but you were far too used to this pattern to not feel worried about some kind of impending doom. It seemed every time you had a nice friendship, things would fall apart as soon as you found out about your future together.

Even when pleasant, the strangeness of the experience makes it uncomfortable to be around them again. You’ve felt bad avoiding your friends, but there isn’t much you can do to change your feelings.

Even worse - what if your vision with Malleus isn’t positive? After what you saw with Idia, the fear lingers in your mind.

Once you opened the gate, questions begun to flood your brain. What would a future be like with Malleus? Would that even be possible? Would you be his consort? Would a relationship between a human and fae be accepted? Would you be able to handle it? The anxieties were endless.

You think about telling him about everything. About Riddle, Leona…but how would he react? You tell yourself that it’s better if he doesn’t know. At least not until after.

He’s the first one you touch on purpose; you have to know.

A casual stroll around Ramshackle leads to the purposeful brushing of fingers, and you’re pulled into a familiar haze.

You’ve never been to Briar Valley, but you know with certainty that your vision takes place there.

The hall you sit in is long, gold trims running along the walls. The black dragon heraldry mounted above the fireplace at the end of the room looks more expensive than anything you’ve seen in your life.

Two wide doors swing open, and Malleus finally enters the room. He isn’t alone.

A small black shape zooms past his legs, plopping itself in front of you.

“Daddy and I picked you flowers from the garden!”

The blur isn’t some shadow, but instead a small child. Five or six, if you had to guess. If her words didn’t give away her parentage, the small, stubby horns peaking out from the top of her head of dark hair certainly told you this was Malleus’ daughter.

“Thank you, sweetie.” You smile at her, taking the flowers she drops in your hand. There’s still some dirt and roots attached, but she’s so adorable, you truly don’t mind.

“Can Uncle Silver take me horseback ridding today?” she asks you. “Daddy said it’s okay with him if it’s okay with you.” She blinks at you sweetly.

“Alright, I suppose. Just be careful, dear,” you reply.

“I have the best parents in all the kingdoms!” she shouted, running along to her chambers to get ready, leaving only you in Malleus in the room.

“She’s so lively today,” you comment, looking up at him.

“Indeed,” he replies, coming to rest beside you. “You look beautiful, my love.”

“And you, my king.”

The two of you share a kiss. It’s all so - dizzying. It’s not unexpected to have a child with Malleus - you had one with Riddle, but this is different. This child is older, she knows you, she feels so real.

He pulls away to smile at you. “I have a gift for you.”

“What’s the occasion?”

“Need there be one for me to celebrate my wonderful spouse?”

“I suppose not. Thank you, Malleus. No matter how many gifts you give, I will treasure them all.”

He pulls out a box from his pocket, asking you to turn around. You feel him guide a cold band around your neck, clasping it in the back. He then places a small, handheld mirror in your hands, urging you to look.

The necklace he’s given you is beyond stunning. It’s silver, with a dazzling gemstone in the middle. You don’t even want to ponder how much it must’ve cost.

You catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror.

It’s strange - seeing yourself much older when Malleus looks the same. It unsettles you more than you’d like to admit. It’s one thing to know you’ll age at different rates and another to see it with your own eyes.

This must be something on your mind in the future as well, because of the next thing you decide to ask Malleus.

“Will I see her grow up? For me, it feels like she’s been young forever. I love it and yet…I want to see more of her life than just this.”

He doesn’t ask who you’re referring to. “You will. You’ll see most. I was practicing mature by my eighty-first birthday.”

You sigh. “I may not even get that far. I’m healthy now, but who knows. The curses of being human…”

He tilts your chin to face him. “It is not a curse to me, my love. I chose you, and I would again.”

There’s infinitely more to discuss, but you already feel yourself slipping away.

You come to from the vision mid walk. Malleus is unaffected, seemingly still in the middle of one of his explanations behind the rich history of one of gargoyles you’d just passed by.

When he notices your silence and turns to ask if you’re alright, you have no response for him.

It seems almost selfish, for you to choose him. Why- why did there need to be so many things wrong? Why did you have to be human, to pain him and your future children by leaving them behind so early?

The joy and the pain - would it all truly be worth it? Or would it be better for it to have never happened?

Malleus looks at you with concern, wiping the tears suddenly cascading down your cheeks.

“What’s wrong, my child of man?”

Everything and nothing, you want to tell him.

viii. all things end, all that we intend; conclusion

Seven beautiful souls, all potential endings. Every future you glimpsed has it’s own charms, and it’s own poisons.

Which future will you choose? One of them? Or perhaps…another?

#pls ignore any mistakes i’m too tired to proofread #twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #riddle rosehearts x reader #leona kingscholar x reader #azul ashengrotto x reader #jamil viper x reader #vil schoenheit x reader #idia shroud x reader #malleus draconia x reader #riddle rosehearts #leona kingscholar #azul ashengrotto #jamil viper #vil schoenheit #idia shroud #malleus draconia #twst #twisted wonderland

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imaginedanvrs · 18 days

Text

atonement

masterlist

camp counselor!wanda x reader

word count: 6k

warnings: homophobia and homophobic slurs, conversion therapy, manipulation, gaslighting, references to drug use, unhealthy power dynamics (so rape), noncon to dubcon, cunnilingus, degrading, fingering, nipple play, size kink, general mean Wanda

a/n: me? posting blasphemous content on Easter Sunday? I would never

It looked harmless enough. You weren’t sure what you had been anticipating, mostly because you had been trying to keep your mind off of the unavoidable destination, but it certainly wasn’t the depressing place you had expected. No, they were smart enough to keep that reality away from the parents that dropped their ‘troubled’ children off. If anything, it looked like the kind of summer camp that a lot of your friends would be enjoying about that time.

There wasn’t a church for one thing. In its place was what appeared to be a ranch style house that had kept its traditional family features such as the pair of rocking chairs on the porch and the maintained flowerbed around the borders. On either side of the building, closing in the driveway, were several other intimate buildings that created the impression of a community style living. They were all decorated with various posters about god’s love and acceptance that you guessed you were going to be hearing a lot about during your stay.

Your mother got out of the car first as a man who looked like he was still being dressed by his own mum jogged over from the main house to greet you both. You clenched your grip on your bag strap before deciding to face the music and follow her lead, still examining the area sceptically as your mother and the man introduced themselves. Your mother failed to deliver the same excitement the blonde did, but she attempted to force it nonetheless while your hosts laughed easily at something she had said.

You weren’t listening to either of them as you retrieved your other bag from the boot of the car, not expecting the man to walk around the other side to greet you. “Y/n!” He said like you were an old friend. “I’m Reverend Vision but you can call me Rev Vis.” You most certainly weren’t going to be doing that. “We’re so happy to have you here, let me give you the grand tour of our home,” he beckoned. You trailed behind them.

“Do you live on site?” Your mother asked.

“Oh yes, me and the Mrs. We love our work,” he drowned on and began guiding you through the various rooms of the two buildings either side of his house. The more you learnt about the place, the more you began to dread your stay. There were ‘entertainment’ rooms that were filled with musical instruments and religious books and music. A canteen area fueled by the kitchen in which all of the students were to prepare every meal. A prayer room that was deserted at that time. Finally, the dorms.

Vision wasted no time in searching through your bags for anything that could “interfere with your journey” and came up empty handed, much to his well hidden disappointment. Your mother didn’t seem to notice it, too focused on the contents that came out of your bag, but you saw the flicker of his brow when he declared you were all good and began explaining the long lists of rules that you had no intention of memorising.

“And we do not allow any kind of sexual acts, with yourself or others,” he said lightly. Your mother shifted uncomfortably and you nodded. You had no intention of being caught by him with your hands down your pants when he did his checks during the night. You didn’t anticipate being there long because you were fully prepared to fake your conversion to heterosexuality. How hard could it be? Besides, you dreaded to think how much your parents were paying the capm under the illusion that they could somehow change you. You had to find it humorous, otherwise it would really fucking hurt.

It still did when you watched your family car disappear past the camp gates and into the dense tree line. You sighed, resting your head gently against the cool glass of your window and took in the camp in its entirety. It was a waste of beautiful land, you concluded as you examined where the large field met the changing trees. There were a couple guys in the camp uniform playing football on the grass while a cluster of girls sat to the side cheering them on. Apparently you had caught the end of the game, because Vision appeared on the edge of the grass and called them back inside, most likely to prepare for dinner.

“Y/n,” a voice behind you called. You spun around at the unexpected caller just as she opened her arms and enveloped you in a tight hug that took you wholly by surprise.

“Hi?” You greeted as a question, making the older woman chuckle as she held you before pulling away and keeping her soft hands on your arms as she took you in and allowed you to do the same. Holy fuck she was beautiful. Her striking emerald eyes bore straight through your own and somehow had the ability to make you feel entirely exposed, as though it would be futile to ever conceal anything from her, including your undeniable attraction to her. In contrast, her smile was soft and polite as she gazed at you in a friendly fondness you would with someone you haven't seen in a long time. There was something noticeably comforting in it and the way she carried an entirely put together personar that you wanted a peek beneath. Metaphorically of course… but also literally.

“I’m Wanda, Vision’s wife.” Rev Vis was punching way above his weight. This woman’s voice was even hot. Maybe pretending to be straight would be harder than you thought.

“Nice to meet you,” you smiled and glanced away awkwardly, finding her impossible to maintain eye contact with. She didn’t seem to care as she hooked her finger under your chin and turned your head to keep your attention on her.

“I have every faith you’re going to do so well here, sweetheart,” she told you fondly then dropped her hand and took a respectful step back. Right, gotta leave room for jesus. “Your roommate will be back soon then you too should head down for supper,” she instructed as she headed for the door.

“Okay,” you nodded and pretended to unpack your bags.

“See you later, honey,” she said before disappearing. You exhaled a breath you didn’t realise you had been holding and collapsed onto your bed.

Your first day dragged by painstakingly slowly. Between meals, you attended bible study taught by Vision who gave you his extra attention as it was your first time there. He asked you to compare your own relationship with god to that which he was teaching, expecting an answer in front of all the other students who had been through the same ordeal and spotted your lies as well as Vision did. Apparently everyone did the same when they started at the camp.

You had kitchen duty in the morning and garden duty in the afternoon (which was probably the least crap one) before you had to sit down for what felt like hours to listen to Vision sing about god on a guitar he didn’t know how to tune properly. During every interaction you had with him, all you could think about was how he had ended up with a woman like Wanda. Had they been high school sweethearts? Had their parents pushed them together? Did he have some kind of twisted blackmail over her? They were the only three explanations that made any sense to you but you weren’t about to ask any of the other students for their input.

As it turned out, your daily routine was also going to include a one on one session with the older woman which should have been something to act as a silver lining in your stay, but it was the most challenging aspect of all.

“When did your desire for women begin?” She asked after some small talk.

“I’m not sure,” you lied in an effort to buy yourself some time to think of a good response. She smiled at you softly.

“You can lie to me, but you can’t lie to god,” she informed lightly.

“A couple years ago,” you replied honestly. This seemed to please her.

“And how did it manifest?” She sounded genuinely curious to know, lulling you into being unexpectedly open with her. It wasn’t as though you had anyone else to talk about that stuff with.

“There was a girl in my class that I thought was pretty,” you told her as you recalled your first real crush. “I felt more when she smiled at me than I did when I kissed a boy.” Wanda smiled as though she could see the purity of your memory as well as you could. Except to her, it wasn’t so innocent.

“The devil likes to work his way into places we could never expect,” she told you and your smile dropped. “Especially when we’re naive,” she added. It sounded as though she didn’t hold anything against you and she wholly believed you had been seduced by the devil himself and that it was impossible for there to be any other explanation.

“I was seventeen,” you reasoned. “I wasn’t naive.” Wanda liked the challenge you gave her. That whisper of a promised defiance gave her a thrill she knew to keep a cap unless she was required to use it. She would do anything for her beloved students to guide them back on the right path, especially one that wore the face of morality so well.

“And what do you mean by that?” Wanda enquired.

“I knew- I know what desire and attraction feel like,” you told her without looking her in those expectant eyes that unknowingly glimmered at your revelation.

“Lust,” Wanda said simply. “One of the hardest sins to resist when it affects one so physically.”

“Surely it can’t be bad if it’s natural,” you pointed out. That was not the response the brunette wanted to hear.

“It is not natural,” Wanda said so quickly that she had to take a moment to recollect herself as you looked at her with shock as you took in that momentary crack in her exterior. It was interesting to watch and you wondered why it had hit a nerve. Surely you weren’t the only one to come into her office and state the fact.

“Y/n,” she called slowly. “If lust comes to you while you are here, you must come and tell me,” she told you seriously. Yeah, you definitely wouldn’t be doing that. You agreed obediently anyway.

“Good,” she smiled again. “Now, is there anyone you currently feel ungodly towards?”

“The same girl,” you admitted sheepishly. Yes, you had had a variety of other minor crushes in the past couple years, but she always managed to fill you with that teasing anxiety that never fully manifested when she said hi to you.

Wanda raised her brows indiscreetly. “I hope you will soon be able to give that same loyalty to god,” she said. You didn’t give her a response, unsure of what to say when you had no intention of doing such a thing. “In time,” she added when she saw your hesitation.

“Maybe,” you muttered, meeting her half way. “Won’t he love me regardless?” You painted the question with an air of innocence that anyone else would have fallen for. But Wanda saw beyond that and knew you used the faux front purely to challenge her again. She was impressed.

“Of course,” she told you gently. “Always.”

You thought you were being subtle with the way you kept glancing over at the couple. It was breakfast time so there was a general murmur of conversation that you didn’t feel particularly pressed to join in with. All it did was teach you to avoid sitting with the group you had found yourself with again because they seemed to be the only students there who were actively participating in the conversion with the belief it would ‘fix them’. You pitied them in a way, but not enough to interfere with their ramblings about their opposite sex celebrity crushes.

Wanda caught your eye on one of the many times you had peered over. Vision was talking to her but apparently she was as distracted from her company as you were, more fixed on returning your gaze. The corner of her lip twitched when you realised you’d been caught and you swiftly looked away to stare down at your cereal, actively keeping your wandering gaze on the other side of the room for the rest of the meal.

“So what did you do to end up here?” A curly haired boy asked as he strolled into the kitchen you occupied alone. He was swinging a tea towel in his hands as he joined you and started on drying the washing up you had started.

“Got caught making out with the pastor’s daughter,” you said stoically.

“You’re fucking with me,” he grinned and your composure cracked.

“Yeah, but it’s much cooler than the truth,” you told him honestly as he jumped up onto the counter.

“I’m sure it’s not that bad. My grandma walked in on me with my dick down my best friend’s ass,” he told you and you couldn’t stop the laugh that rose promptly. You grinned at the boy next to you in disbelief, thankful that your own luck wasn’t that bad. “Your turn,” he prompted.

“I told my best friend that I like girls. She told my parents,” you said humorously, as though it didn’t hurt like a bitch just to remember.

“I think I have better mates than you,” he concluded. You didn’t argue with that. “I’m James.”

“Y/n,” you replied. “How long have you been here?”

“Four months.”

“What?” You splashed some water over the floor when your hand slipped in shock and James yelped when some drops hit him then started chuckling at the look you were giving him.

“What? Did you think it was only going to last a couple weeks?”

“Kinda, yeah,” you muttered as you returned your attention to your chore. “Do you think you’ll be out soon?”

“Nah, they know I’m bullshitting them. We all are, of course, but some of them can trick themselves into believing it, which is good enough for Vision.”

“Yeah, I know Wanda sees right through me,” you told him. “Which by the way, that makes no sense right?”

“I reckon he’s holding her family captive,” James stated simply. You laughed with him easily, glad you had found someone like minded to you. “Hey, do you wanna get high?”

The nimble threads at the bottom of your uniformed cardigan were multiplying as your stay at the camp went by. Your fingers frequently found their way to them when you were uncomfortable, which was more often than not, and pulled at the finer threads until you unintentionally collected a small bundle in the palm of your hands that you had to hide. Vision never commented on it, but Wanda did, telling you that it represented your impulse to repress your femininity or some bullshit like that.

You left the threads alone and laced your hands together in your lap when she gave you a pointed look from her office chair and you muttered an apology.

“I’ve noticed you and James have become quite close,” she commented. “I must admit I was hoping you would find better company in some of the other students here. James doesn’t provide the best example to follow,” she told you.

“We’re just friends,” you shrugged, slightly irked that the older woman had a problem with the one refuge you had been able to find in the camp.

“Are you friends with anyone else here?” She questioned, not yet providing you the warm smile she offered every time you stepped into her office or saw her in general. She didn’t look happy that day. She looked troubled but you didn’t believe that was solely down to your decision to spend time with James.

“Not yet,” you told her even though you weren’t planning on expanding your social circle. Though if it was only two people it must be more of a line. Still, adding that unfulfilled optimism was meant to appease Wanda. You should have expected her to see it for what it really was.

“What do you and James talk about?” She wasn’t going to let it go.

“Our lives, I guess,” you shrugged.

“Your experiences,” Wanda said for you. You knew there was no point in denying that when your glance towards her told her all she needed to know.

“Sometimes.”

“You should only discuss those topics with myself or Vision, otherwise you may end up having those experiences affirmed and encouraged,” she explained pointedly. You nodded uncomfortably as your fingers found their ways to your threads again only to snap back in place when you felt Wanda’s eyes momentarily burn into you. Something was very different with her. “So tell me what you discussed,” she pushed.

“I told him how much I dislike kissing boys,” you told her matter of factly as you tried to suppress your rising irritation. Maybe it was her job, but you hated her need to know everything you and James did.

“And you want to kiss girls instead?”

“I want to do a lot of things with them,” you laid on the innocence thick, playing your role as the good christian who was simply admitting to how she had been led astray and just wanted to atone for her sins. As always, Wanda saw through your facade though that time it made her tick. You knew exactly what you were doing, you just had no idea the effect it was having on the older woman. You had no idea that your insistence on pretending to be good while knowing you were bad stirred something in her that she wasn’t supposed to feel. You were pushing those sinful desires that had infiltrated your mind right into her own and she wouldn’t allow it.

“That’s all for today,” she declared without giving a response to your statement. It hadn’t even been your full session time, maybe more like half of it.

“Okay,” you said slowly as you stood up.

“I suggest you spend the rest of your evening with your roommate today,” she told you as you lingered in the doorway.

“Right, bye,” you bid awkwardly, frowning to yourself as you walked away.

The moment the door closed Wanda sighed heavily and leant back in her chair, catching sight of the framed photo of herself and Vision when they went on a hiking holiday in Colorado. The both beamed at the camera as they held each other close, though Wanda’s love for her husband had been as dim as it was in the present. But it was what god wanted. What god certainly didn’t want was for Wanda to allow her mind to wander to you in the way it had during that session when you had been taunting her with that faux naivety that everyone else seemed to fall for.

She had such hope for you when she first met you. But the images you had put in her head of her hand disappearing beneath your skirt as her lips clashed with yours, pinning you down to that very couch you perched on, that was something that could not be allowed to flourish, no matter how it made her throb between her legs. Wanda forced herself to stare at her husband’s image and remember when he used to make her feel that way, but those memories of his breathless features beneath her were replaced with your own and suddenly she couldn’t help but ponder what your sweet moans would sound like next to her ear as her fingers dipped inside-

“Lord help me,” Wanda called, but he never came.

You and Wanda both faced your own new challenges as the weeks went by. For you, your only refuge was gone. James had been sent back home randomly one night after an incident that no one would discuss with you. You had written your numbers on pieces of paper before that night, but it had disappeared as mysteriously as James had and gave you an equally chilling feeling. You had no idea what was going to happen to him when he arrived home without the results he had been sent away to achieve. Would they send him somewhere else? Somewhere worse? The only thing you could do was try not to end up like him.

Unfortunately, Wanda knew that nothing had changed within you. You continued to try and fool her with your illusion of innocence, reciting what Vision had taught you, socialising with the committed students and answering her questions in the way she wanted to hear rather than the truth. Little did you know that your efforts to quicken your release from the camp were futile, because Wanda simply didn’t want you gone yet. You were fighting a losing battle, just as she was.

As much as she despised to acknowledge it, the brunette fought her own desires as much as you did. It made her hate how much she was drawn to you. It made her ashamed of the acts she envisaged herself performing with you and how she just knew in her heart that you would so willingly part your legs for her. She wasn’t blind to your attraction to her, she had encountered it enough in her career to see it a mile away, no matter how discreet you thought you were being.

“I think I’m getting better,” you lied as you peered at Wanda cautiously.

“And what makes you say that?” The older woman inquired, humouring your plain fib.

“I don’t think about girls,” you said as you willed yourself not to look at Wanda’s long legs that were crossed eloquently.

“What do you think about?” You hadn’t been prepared for that.

“God?” Wrong. Obviously wrong. Wanda hummed and you knew that meant she didn’t buy it.

“Y/n, I want you to start being more honest with me.” You froze and didn’t dare look her in the eye. “I’m aware that you’re not progressing, so I think we should try something new. Just you and me.” You frowned and risked looking up to the confident woman, not having a clue of the excitement that manifested so secretly. “Are you familiar with penance?” You were, yet you had no idea where Wanda was going with it.

“There are many different forms. Some fast, some pray, some confess, but as we practise most of that here anyway, I want to try something else,” Wanda explained as she stood up from her chair and sauntered over to the desk in the corner of her office. You heard her rummaging around in the draws as a feeling of unease began to emerge in your chest. Rightfully so, because when Wanda turned back around, she held a riding crop firmly in her grasp.

“Stand up,” she instructed and you quickly did so as you eyed the tool in her hands. “Usually you would do this yourself, but I don’t believe you’re capable,” she explained lightly. “Hold out your hand.”

“Wanda,” you said as you kept your hand glued to your side. “I don’t want to.” Her features were deceivingly gentle as she listened to you.

“I don’t want to do this to you either, sweetheart. It’s just the only solution. So hold out your hand,” she repeated, gripping the crop so tight you could hear the leather stretch in her grasp. It unsettled you greatly.

“But it will hurt,” you objected, eyes wide. Wanda could have laughed at how oblivious you were to her intentions.

“It’s meant to,” she said simply and grabbed your wrist with a force that completely paralleled the softness of her tone.

“Wanda-” you tried to yank your hand back but you weren’t as strong as the brunette who only had to hold you with one hand while the other brought the crop down hard.

You cried out but Wanda used her grip on you to pull you flush against her chest, her features having turned ice cold. Her lips formed a straight line and her eyes pierced through your own with a sharpness that was usually dulled. The next words she uttered were void of that nurturing faith she used with everyone else and were replaced with something much darker. “If you keep struggling I’ll bend you over that desk and whip your ass instead.” You trembled against her, trying to decipher what your best bet was. When you took too long to decide, Wanda reached around and groped your ass, digging the crop in as she did so as though to make sure you knew she was serious. Your breath hitched as you found yourself completely trapped against the woman that squeezed you through your skirt. You whimpered, riling her up more until you nodded.

“Good,” Wanda exhaled, calming the heat she was struck with at the sight of your fearful eyes. “With every strike, you’re going to confess something you’ve lied about to me.” There were so many lies to choose from that when the first strike came, you struggled to pick one out. “Confess,” Wanda demanded, all of her patience suddenly absent.

“I don’t like boys, I like girls,” you admitted in a rush, refusing to look at Wanda or your burning hand that she struck again. “I’m not doing the work,” you continued. Wanda remained dissatisfied, striking your raw palm again and again as you admitted to your lies, none of which being what Wanda wanted to hear.

“I touch myself!” That was what she was looking for.

“Look at me,” Wanda instructed, examining the tear streaks down your cheeks as you whimpered. It was clear you were trying to appear strong and indifferent, but it was quickly becoming too much. The older woman cooed at you as dropped the crop to the couch behind you and took a hold of your inflamed hand, rubbing the abused hand with a tenderness that only made it burn more.

“Now that wasn’t so hard, was it?” Her smile had grown sinister and you realised you were nowhere near done. “What thoughts do you touch yourself to?” Wanda questioned further, rubbing the most tender areas of your palm.

“Lying with a woman,” you hiccuped, hoping the harmless phrasing could somehow ease your next punishment.

“Who?” She pushed, gripping your chin roughly and forcing you to look straight ahead at her as you confessed what she already knew.

“You,” you whispered. Arousal rushed to the forefront of Wanda’s mind, and with it came anger. You weren't allowed to make her feel the way you did. She had a husband and she was a faithful Christian wife until you showed up and infected her mind with your own illness. You had to be put in your place.

In a blur, you were laying flat on the sofa you had lied continuously to Wanda on. You were barely given the chance to react before Wanda hiked her leg over your chest and straddled you with a purely feral look upon her face. You felt a strike of fear hit you, however you also weren’t blind to how attractive Wanda looked in her state of desperation. It may have been a desperation to reclaim control and to punish you for her own feelings, but it was hot nonetheless.

“You’ve been tempting me ever since you got here,” she hissed, feeling under her conservative skirt for a moment before she lifted it up around her waist. “This is your fault,” Wanda told you as you soaked in the view of her exposed pussy just inches from your face. You could smell her arousal and when she moved to lower herself onto your awaiting mouth, you eagerly grabbed at the back of her thighs until she slapped you away. “You don’t get to touch me with those filthy fingers, just let me use you.” Although you knew it was terribly wrong, you felt your own cunt heat up at her instructions. You knew that it was fucked up that the married woman wanted to get off on riding your mouth, but you wanted it so bad.

“Just like that,” Wanda sighed as you ran your tongue through her wet folds and sucked on them lightly, aiming to savour every drop and inch of her. “Put your tongue out,” she continued to demand. As soon as you did, Wanda began to vigorously grind her clit against your muscle, allowing your tastebuds to become ablaze with her as she cursed above you. You had never heard her swear before and knew she would scold anyone who muttered anything close, so knowing you could elicit such a reaction from her made your insides twist with pride.

She didn’t argue when you switched to sucking on her pulsing clit and felt it throb in your mouth. You moaned against her as her movements continued and her thighs locked around her head. It felt as though she really was using you for her own pleasure, not caring about your own or any comfort. You were the shameful bliss she was forbidden to engage with, but it felt incredible to ignore her god and use you as she wished. But she was really disobeying him, she was just teaching you a lesson. It wasn’t really sinning.

“Fuck, don’t stop. Don’t you dare stop, you slut!” Wanda cried out as she became engulfed with the sensations you gave her. You had no intention of stopping as you shifted to pushing your tongue inside her. You were met by the tight squeeze of her walls and felt your own clench at the discovery she hadn’t had sex in a while. That explained why she was so sensitive too. Besides yourself, you smirked into the older woman and doubled your efforts.

It didn’t take long for Wanda to get close to the bliss she had become stranger to and you weren’t about to let her lose that. She knew her body, even after some time of depriving herself, and told you exactly what to do to get her there. “That’s it, that’s it,” she panted, head swimming as she erratically thrust herself onto her mouth and came with a sharp cry. You moaned against her, adamant on tasting your reward as Wanda trembled on top of you and eventually forced herself off when you didn’t stop. She wasn’t about to let greed overcome her.

You looked up at her with a hesitant smile that was apparently the last thing Wanda wanted to see. She glared at you and immediately lifted you up and spun you around so that you were leaning over the armrest on the sofa, not allowing you a second to object. “What-” you tried but she didn’t want to hear it.

“We’re not done,” she said without care as she lifted your own skirt over your back and yanked down your soaked underwear. She bit her lip at the sight of the wetness that stained them and threw them over to her desk for safe keeping, definitely not to sniff and use to get off later.

“Desperate whore,” she muttered to herself as she ran two fingers through your drenched lips. “You want to get fucked so bad? I’ll show you what it’s like to get fucked.” She let the threat loom over you as dipped her digits into you lightly, barely enough to stimulate you but enough for her to decipher how tight you were. Wanda groaned when she felt you clench in anticipation, desperate for any touch you would give her. At that, she let the remains of her self control slip away and thrust her fingers in at once. “So tight,” she commented as you clung onto the sofa, moaning at the feeling of her filling you up in the way you had dreamed ever since you first met the older woman.

“Wanda,” you whined when she spread her fingers out within you to push your walls.

“Shut up,” she hissed, refusing to listen to your pathetic pleas on the tip of your tongue. “Take it.” And you did. You bit into the couch to mute yourself as Wanda curled and thrust her fingers inside your wet cunt, mapping out every inch of you and pushing your body’s limits. She added a third finger without any consideration to your stifled whines.

Wanda, as she told herself, was only doing it to hurt you and punish you. You deserved it for sinning so openly in her home and for attempting to corrupt her. It wouldn’t work, she convinced herself, she wouldn’t succumb to your lust but she had to show you the right path. She had to make you ache. With that in mind, she added a fourth finger and pumped her fingers in wildly.

You cried out into the material you sunk your teeth into, feeling your pussy sting at the stretch Wanda was causing. Still, you continued to soak down to her palm. It just hurt so good. Too good for Wanda to allow, so she snuck her hand under your shirt and bra to take your nipples between her fingers and twist them cruelly. You whimpered at the unnecessary act, making Wanda grin triumphantly.

Despite the pain, it did little to distract you from the heat between your legs that was quickly growing out of control. Having stretched you out as much as she pleased, Wanda was able to thrust her fingers inside you without mercy, attacking every sensitive nerve until you became a mess on the sofa she was meant to therapise you on. “You going to cum for me, whore?” Wanda asked when she felt you twitch around her. You mumbled a yes you were lucky she heard. “You’re so pathetic like this, so weak to temptation,” she scolded you with a wicked smile you couldn’t see. “Cum for me.” That was all it took for your muscles to clench tightly around her and let go. You moaned like the whore she saw you as as you came, gripping onto the sofa for dear life as Wanda continued to ruthlessly pump her digits into your cunt.

“Too much,” you whined when she failed to stop. She didn’t listen. You came down from one orgasm and soon went tumbling into another when Wadna kept up her actions, making sure to drive her point home. You squirmed under her as your body became overstimulated but there was no room or strength for you to move away. “Please!” You begged as you bucked into her palm, unable to stop the contradicting action that served to amuse Wanda.

“So sensitive,” Wanda mused, coaxing you through another orgasm until she deemed that the message had gone through enough. You collapsed in a defeated heap as she stood up from the sofa and corrected her uniform as though you weren’t even there. You missed her taking her tainted digits into her mouth to appease her curiosity. Lord, she thought as she tasted your sweetness. She swiftly pushed away the impulse to keep you down and taste your sweetness directly from the source. She had to keep things professional after all.

“See me first thing in the morning,” she instructed, features still flushed with lingering lust. She had given into temptation and whether she liked it or not, she would indulge in you again. You weren’t going home anytime soon.

#marvel #wanda maximoff smut #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x reader #dark!wanda maximoff #dark!marvel #scarlet witch

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peachesofteal · 4 months

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Light on - single mom/neighbor fic - reader POV - 18+ MDNI Simon Riley/female reader

“Ye dinnae have tae worry.”

Johnny, Simon’s friend, or coworker, you guess, croons to the two of you, happy faced Emma bobbing in his arms. She’s perfectly content with him, her affinity for big strong men clearly grown since knowing Simon, when she took to him like a duck to water.

Still. You’ve never left your baby in the care of a stranger.

Simon, somehow, senses the hesitance. Sees the tepid enthusiasm, a big palm settling at the middle of your back, mouth leaning close to hover above your ear. “If you’re not sure, we can stay in.”

“No!” You settle as quickly as you can after the blurted admission, embarrassment simmering away in your gut. “No, sorry. I trust you... I trust your judgement.” You motion to Johnny, who’s watching you with a serious expression. “I’m sure it will be fine, it’s just-“

“You’ve only ever left her with me.” He finishes for you, and you look up at him, relieved to find soft brown eyes crinkling with understanding, sweetness. The tender affection you’ve come to know so dearly.

“Just that one time and- and she’s so little.” At the same time, she yawns, little chest rising and falling with a big exhale, tiny lids begrudgingly drooping shut. She’s just going to be sleeping anyway. Just go.

Another voice whispers in the back of your mind. One you haven’t heard for quite some time, urging you forward from beyond the light.

Be brave.

Dinner is great. Better than great, even. It’s… wonderful. Perfect. The restaurant is decked out for the holiday, and there are lights of every color strung from the rafters, soft music wafting and weaving through the throng of diners, low light accompanied with candles dotting each table. The food is delicious, aromatic and rich, and both you and Simon eat until you’re complaining of feeling too full, one last glass of wine settling into your veins with a giddy effervescent that makes you giggle just a little bit too much.

“We’re not due back for another hour.” He muses, after the check’s paid and you’re both lingering by the door, his warm hand squeezing yours. “Want to walk?” He motions to the green space across the block, the one that’s got a big tree glowing in the middle, flanked with a residential street all lit up, more lights and decorations shining into the night.

“These houses are pretty.” You murmur, cheek smushed against his bicep, arm wrapped around his like you’re a koala, and he’s your tree. Your shelter.

“You like ‘em?” You take a left, peeling off into the park, steps naturally in stride, and he adjusts, pulling his arm free to wrap it around your shoulder, heart warming in your chest when you feel his lips come down across your head overtop your hat, the touch alone enough to make you feel toasty all the way through your boots.

“Yeah. Always wanted Emma to have a yard, y’know?” You sigh. It’s not out of reach, so much, but everything was easier with two incomes, and before it was just you and her, you felt like the dream was nearly attainable. Nearly there. “One day.” You slow to a stop in front of a tree, it’s long trunk stretching towards the sky, barren branches wrapped in string lights, and turn expectantly, face tilted. Kiss me, you hope your expression tells him. Make me yours.

His mouth covers yours, fiercely, lips parting to work tongues and teeth together, fingers scrabbling across clothing, seeking, touching. You trace along the hem of his shirt, up under his jacket, his skin shivering beneath your touch, muscles tensing, shaking in the night. Your palm splays flat against his ribs, his abs, and you hum into his mouth, thighs pressing together at the feeling of him reacting to your touch. He’s been such a gentleman. So perfect, with you in his bed. He looked away, every time you tried to prance into the room in a too small pair of sleep shorts. He averted his eyes, when you rolled over without a bra on, breasts loose in your sleep t shirt. Even cuddling, waking up together, going to sleep... he was respectful. You wish he was just a little more willing… to be bad.

You tried not to think about the alternative. The idea that he’s seen your stretch marks, and stomach, enough to make you feel a little sick. You’ve been strategic about it, big shirts, hips covered, but what if…

You bury the thoughts. The dread and spiral that feels like circling the drain. The wine makes you feel bold, it makes you feel desperate to know. Does he want this?

“Simon.” You gasp, hardly separating yourself to speak. Instead, you feed your words to him, hoping they’ll sink through, hoping they’ll make sense. “I need- I want you to touch me.” He pulls away, hand cradling your cheek, leveling you with a serious look.

“We don’t have to rush this, sweetheart, I-“

“I’m not rushing.” More tongue. He tastes like the whiskey from dinner, and the tannins of your wine. Like the bread and the oil, rich silky texture, earth and salt exploding in your senses. “I’m ready.” You find his hand, pulling it from your cheek, dipping low to crawl up under the bottom of your sweater, until his knuckles are brushing against the skin of your diaphragm. There’s a sharp intake of breath and then-

His hand folds over the curve of your breast, thumb slipping inside the fabric of your bra, stroking across your nipple. When he feels it, firm against his touch, he groans, pressing closer, his body crowding yours against the tree. The width of his frame shields you, and he drifts low to your skirt, teasing his touch across your lower belly, fingers dipping into the waistband.

“You think you’re ready for me?” He hums in your ear, teeth grazing against the shell. You shudder, soft whine slipping free, and he shifts, hard cock swollen in his jeans, now pressing between your legs, making you throb for him beneath tartan and cotton. “Are you sure, sweetheart?” He slides his hand down, searching beneath your skirt, grazing along the outside of your panties. You close your eyes when his finger slips inside, stroking through where you know you’re ready, where you’re so wet, clit pulsing with desperation for him. He circles your entrance, dipping inside you and then out, stroking over your swollen bud, making you jolt and whimper in his hold. “Fuck.” He breathes.

“Yeah, I’m-“

“You’re soaked for me.” He kisses you, long and deep and furious, still working his finger gently back and forth. “This pussy been wet all night, honey?” Your eyes nearly roll back into your fucking skull, words failing on your tongue.

“Simon… I- yeah.”

“Want me to take you home, take care of you?” He presses deeper, heel of his hand making contact with your clit, thick finger sinking into you, moan swallowed by his mouth. “Think you can be quiet enough so you don’t wake the baby?” He thrusts, pressure grinding upwards, your walls clenching desperately. You nod frantically, but he doesn’t stop, keeps fucking up into you with his finger, bringing you dangerously close to the edge quicker than you ever thought possible.

“Fuck, I-“

“Shhh.” He hushes, mouth wide on your cheek before slotting his lips against yours and pulling free, finger falling away from your body. You watch with wide eyes as he brings it to his lips, slipping it inside to taste you, lashes fluttering like he’s dining on some sort of decadence. “I’ll give what you need sweetheart.” His forehead touches yours. “I’ll give you everything. I promise.” He swears, and something glints in his eyes, something serious, nearly predatory, severe and dedicated, so intense that it makes you shiver.

“Okay.”

#peaches writes #simon riley #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x reader #light on

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lihhelsing · 2 months

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"What do you mean you don't remember your first kiss?" Eddie asked, giving Steve that look he always got whenever he made the mistake of mentioning that piece of information about his past.

Steve shrugged, feeling uncomfortable and hoped Eddie would drop it. "I just don't remember it. Guess it wasn't memorable."

Eddie rolled his eyes, "You're telling me your first kiss wasn't memorable?"

"Yeah, man. It's whatever."

Now, both Eddie and Steve knew that was a lie. Not that Steve necessarily cared about something like a first kiss, but it bothered him that everyone seemed to have either a funny or sweet story to tell.

Like how Robin's first kiss had happened under a tree with her first girl crush, or how Nancy's first kiss only happened because the guy was kind of scared of her, or how Jonathan's first kiss only happened with Nancy.

"Do you remember yours?" Steve asked and Eddie nodded instantly.

"Of course I do."

Steve raised a brow at him and Eddie chuckled.

"It wasn't anything special, really. I kissed a guy under the bleachers and he never spoke to me again after that, the end."

Eddie was using that voice he always used whenever something bothered him.

"So it wasn't good," Steve said as he placed his hand on top of Eddie's. What was worse, not remembering your first kiss or feeling like shit about it?

"The kiss was ok. It was barely a kiss, I had no idea what to do with my hands and tongue and it was a little weird. Nothing to write home about, that's for sure. But I lost a friend that day and it really sucked. It made me think kisses are more powerful than they have any right to be."

And wasn't that the truth? Steve remembered other first kisses. Like his first kiss with Nancy, that he thought was gonna be the last first kiss of his life. He was wrong about that, of course.

"I know what you mean," Steve said. His hand was still on top of Eddie's but now Eddie was smiling.

And then he was grinning.

"I have an idea," he said, looking like a maniac. And Steve knew that couldn't be a good thing.

"Should I be scared?"

Eddie laughed. "Probably. What if..."

"Yeah?"

"We kissed."

Time seemed to stop for a second and then Steve was frowning at Eddie.

"What?"

"Yeah! Think about it, Steve," Eddie said, getting up. He always got restless when his brain started to work in full power. Steve thought it was kind of cute. "You can pretend this was your first kiss, so then when people tell you you can picture it and just make up some story about it."

Steve raised a brow, "I'm pretty sure that's not how first kisses work. Plus, what's in it for you? You remember your first kiss."

Eddie shrugged, throwing himself back on the couch and landing much closer to Steve than he was before. "Sure. But then I can will my brain to understand kisses don't have to mean something. This could just be a friendly kiss between two friends. Nothing else."

For some reason that didn't seem right, but Steve nodded anyway.

"Ok."

Eddie's eyes widened. "Ok?"

"Yeah, ok. Let's kiss and see what happens," Steve said. "What?"

Eddie bit his lower lip, "I don't know. I just didn't think you were gonna say yes."

Steve laughed, throwing his head back. Classic Eddie. His mouth was too big for his own good. Steve fucking loved it.

"Well, that's ok. I'll help you," Steve said, leaning in close.

He could see Eddie's eyelashes and the way his cheeks were tinted red. Steve placed a hand on the nape of his neck and heard the exact moment Eddies's breath hitched in his chest.

"Is this ok?" he asked. Eddie might talk a big talk but Steve wasn't about to cross any boundaries. If he said he was just joking Steve would pull back and pretend it had never happened.

But Eddie didn't, so Steve stayed. Close to him but still not kissing him.

"Y-yeah," Eddie said, nodding slightly. Steve smiled and buried his hand on Eddie's hair before leaning in and pressing their lips together.

The kiss was slow and sweet and Eddie was pliant on Steve's hand. For all his attitude, Steve kind of liked to shut him up like that.

Steve was about to pull back when Eddie whined in the back of his throat and pulled him close by the waist. He had no idea where all that came from but before he noticed he was straddling Eddie's lap and kissing him like his life depended on it.

Eddie tasted like cigarettes and Mountain Dew and Steve thought that combination might be his new favorite. He was so responsive as he kissed Steve back, opening his mouth and letting Steve explore as much as he wanted and all that while holding on to his hips.

Steve liked how Eddie's hands curled around him. Like they belonged there.

When it was becoming clear neither of them was interested in stopping, Steve pulled back so he could look at Eddie's face. All he could see was the pure want in his eyes.

"That's a pretty nice first kiss," Steve said playfully and Eddie snorted, squeezing at his waist.

"Oh, sweetheart. I'm glad," Eddie smiled at him and it was the greatest thing ever. "I can't say the same for my part of the deal though."

Steve frowned. "What do you mean?"

Eddie let his head fall back into the couch and closed his eyes. Steve felt his heart hammering in his chest. Had Eddie hated the kiss?

When he opened his eyes there was an intensity behind them that made Steve want to get up and run.

"I can't pretend it doesn't mean anything, Stevie."

Oh.

Before he knew it, Steve was leaning in and stealing another kiss from Eddie's lips. This time when they parted Steve didn't bother moving too far from him.

"Then don't."

#steddie #idk #I just had a thought and ran with it #first kiss #steve harrington #Eddie munson #stranger things #ficlet

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kombuuuu · 10 months

Note

hii i really enjoyed ur miles 42 fic, was wondering if u could write something about reader and miles meeting for the first time? who was interested first🤭?

For the Soul (and the Heart)

Miles!42 x Fem!Reader

“I’ll be here. So pretty fun, i’d say”. “Guess you’re right, Chiquita.”

AHHH meet cute x simpy miles we LOVE

Miles getting comfy w reader and reader getting progressively more combative the more time they spend together bc they luvvvvvvv each other? perfection

please don’t read if you get uncomfy with suggestive content, nothing too bad but still suggestive!

The morning was still. An odd occurrence for a Saturday. The winter chill had settled the night prior and seeped into ever cracked windowsill.

Streets coating in a thin layer of snow and trees dusted with the same. And acknowledging this freezing weather, obviously you decided to go for a walk. Snow crunched under your feet as you followed street signs, the only thing telling you where you were going was which street looked prettier.

Eventually you stopped, hugging your scarf closer to your nose and looking for a stall or shop that caught your eye.

Eventually it did, a quaint cafe stationed between two clothing stores, relatively small and pretty empty. The outside was decorated with white Lilly-of-the-Valley flowers, flower beds filled with the pretty things. Contrasting to the deep Mahogany of the wooden shop. Which looking into the wide window, seemed relatively the same. Deep furniture with white accents and a soft yellow light dancing along shiny hardwood floors.

Swirling cursive words cut into the wooden headboard swinging from a chain outside the door. “Morales Coffee.”

There looked to be seven or eight people in there currently, for how inconspicuous it tried to look, the amount of patrons at such an odd time (10:42 AM, not morning but not afternoon either.), You’d assume that coffee has to be amazing.

The door bell chimed sweetly at your entry, Barista turning to greet you.

The sweet woman gleamed over at you for a moment, turning back to her current customer while he pulled out his wallet. You lined up, looking at the pastries lining the glass displays. The ones catching your eye a Raspberry Danish and a cute baby blue Lunch-Box cake.

The man had moved away, leaving it your turn to order. The woman smiled at you and for once, approaching someone in costumer service didn’t feel as scary as it should’ve.

“Hi, What can I get for you today?” The curly haired woman had a twang of an accent curving her words. And a motherly vibe about her.

“Hey,” You smiled back at her “,Could I get a regular Mocha—.” You paused to let her punch it in. “.—A raspberry Danish and your blue cake.”

You pointed vaguely towards where the blue cake would be to her side of the display. “Yes, of course! That’ll be $18.40, thank you.”

Whilst you pulled out your purse to pay and she began to retrieve the items. She spoke up again. “Someone’s birthday?”

You laughed, not expecting her to speak so suddenly.

“Oh, no!” A chuckle left your lungs “Just want some cake recently. Saw your shop and its cakes. Thought may as well get it while i’m here.”

She laughed along with you, snorting a little as she boxed the small cake in the cardboard lunchbox. “Seems reasonable.”

“Thank you.”

She grabbed your danish and placed it on the counter, putting the cake in a bag and handing it to you.

“Thank you, again.”

“No worries, your mocha will be out shortly!” The bouncy lady turned around, going close to the back of the counter and opened a door you hadn’t realised was there, talking into it.

“Bebé, hay una chica linda ahí afuera que quiere un Mocha. Ve a hacerlo para ella. Y no la riegues.”

"Baby, there's a cute girl out there who wants a Mocha. Go do it for her. And don't mess it up."

Miles glanced up in confusion.

“¿Pero porqué me dices a mi?”

“Why me?”

“Pues es linda, y parece de tu edad.”

“She’s pretty, and around your age.”

“Ma, porfavor.”

“Ma, please.”

“Go.”

“Fine, fine.” He raised his hands in defeat and Rio kissed his cheek on the way out.

You found a seat with a cute view of the street outside and waited patiently for your coffee, people watching to pass time.

There was always a fear of crime in your neighbourhood. The lack of supposed ‘good guys’ coupled with the city being run down by anyone who wanted to escape trouble. Once news broke out of the first robbery in Brooklyn, where no one was caught. It was immediately put on the radar for any criminal looking to live somewhere safe.

The Prowler had been changing that. Little by little the Panther-esc.. Anti-Villain was scraping through the streets of Brooklyn and letting his blood stained claws drag over those in his way.

People feared him, the violence he brought with him.

You thought he was the closest thing to a hero you were getting, so who’s got room to complain?

If he’s not going to do the dirty work, who will?

The chatter of other people in the cafe had gotten slightly louder, four more people walking in while you sat.

“Miles, la chica linda de ahí.”

“Miles, That sweet girl over there.”

“Sí mamá, ya sé.”

“Yeah mama, I know.”

The smooth baritones accent of a boy around your age caught your attention. The way his letters curled giving you a rush of something down your spine. You looked up when you heard feet approaching, seeing probably the most ridiculously handsome man you have ever met bring you your coffee.

The way his jawline sharpened at a point, braids lying on his shoulders just below it. His lips that seemed awfully soft for someone who probably doesn’t even know what chapstick is. Lashes fluttering prettily over his high genes cheekbones, accenting his golden eyes. Jesus christ he’s pretty. His lips curled into a smirk at your face, your doe’d eyes gleaming up at him. He had some sharp canines.

“‘S one’s yours, Miss.” He placed the steaming mug on your table and you smiled. “Thank you!”

“No worries, Hermosa.” He looked at you a moment longer before the sweet lady called him back to make another order.

“Coming, Momma.” He called back to her, turning back to you for a second time and adding.

“I’m Miles, by the way.”

“Miles.. that’s a cute name.”

His lips upturned again at the compliment.

You gave him your name, which he hummed at, repeating it and rolling it around his tongue. His accent was gorgeous.

“Hope to see you ‘round, [Name].”

You choked out a pathetic affirmation, “Mhmma.— Yeah, yep.”

He laughed lightly and dragged his fingers along the table as he left.

Like claws.

—

Two days later you were back. It was some of the best coffee you’d ever had. And the desserts were the same, most of the cake still sitting boxed in the fridge.

Also there was an added bonus, being the coffee house owner, and her son.

The boy was interesting enough to keep your attention, sweet to you but held a sort of curiosity about him. Like he was hiding something but felt no shame in doing it, that it was righteously excused.

And to be real, you were dying to hear his voice again. Two days and all that had been playing in your head was the way he’d said your name, let the word travel down to his lungs and breathed life into it. A longing into it.

Miles was about the same, probably worse.

You saying his name was cute was probably his new lifeline. The way you had said it so innocently, sweetly to the likes of him. A twisted, wretched man. You had him swooning faster than he deemed safe, his body was going into overdrive. He had watched you while in their cafe, having never met someone so.. untainted by the world. Someone so sweet who carried nothing but a childlike innocence in their curios nature. Nothing done out of bad faith or in vain. You were nothing like him, he adored that.

So when you came wandering back into his Mommas cafe, he hoped to every universe it would be something you didn’t stop doing.

“Ah! Miss, You’re back!” His Ma greeted her, watching as the girl told Rio her name, and his Mom in return.

You guys chatted idly for a moment, your expressions clear as day. He could read you like a grown man could read a picture book, so easy it would be insulting to present him with it, if the content wasn’t you. The brightness and easy nature of you was something refreshing, he would say his Momma was easy-going, but times had been hard lately and his family needed a cheering up. You seemed like the perfect candidate.

Sweet, bubbly and looking at him right now- Oh. He waved at you, shivering at the eye contact and watching as you smiled at him and waved back, hands shaking. He likes how nervous he makes you.

You sniffled a little from the cold, dripping your hand as his Mom room your attention again. She handed you a cinnamon scroll and you paid quickly, dropping twenty bucks in the tip jar and quickly finding your way back to your seat.

“Miles! Un Mocha regular porfavor.”“Miles, regular Mocha please.”

He nodded to his mom, like he hadn’t remembered from last time. Like he hasn’t watched as you enjoyed something he made you.

—

“Bienvenida de nuevo, Chiquita.”“Welcome back, Chiquita.”

Sitting in the same spot as last time, staring at the idling passer-by’s, the light of a Winter morning danced off the snowy ground and highlighted your face, leaving a soft glow in your eyes.

You turned to him, paying him your whole mind.

“Thank you, Miles.” He placed your coffee in front of you, slightly leaning over you. He raised his eyebrows and hummed. You inhaled quickly, breath caught in your throat. Now realising the proximity between the two of you. Not only that, but there was a sweet smell that followed him around, coffee and cinnamon. How fitting.

His voice had gone deeper, smoother.

“I’m glad to see you back here—,” He leaned back again, hand dragging the same way it had two days prior. Your slow blink and parted lips made a deep rooted part of him begin to blossom once more.

He wanted to protect you the way he knew no one else could, wanted to lay his Soul down for you. Let you trace the veins imbedded in his skin with your teeth and take as much from him as you could. Run him dry, let him owe you his life so he can die protecting yours.

The speed his infatuation was growing probably wasn’t healthy.

“Really?” Your sweet, breathless inquiry silenced that though.

“Of course, Mami.”

“I—,” You paused, picking at you fingernails for a moment “,—I like it here, a lot.”

You leaned a little forward in your seat. Pressing your forearms against the wooden tabletop and leaning on them. He watched your back drop into a small arch, and for his own health, decided to ignore it. “‘S very cozy.” You glanced towards the window again. Watching another lad and her dog pass. He watched you.

“Mm, it is.”

“And you’re here.”

He sucked in a breath, fingers twitching.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

Your gaze flickered to him once more and he held it.

He let his hand drift to your shoulder, rubbing it slowly while he peeled himself away from the table.

“I gotta go, Mami, but enjoy your time.”

“You too, Miles.”

“I’ll be working,” He smiled at you, a small thing.

“I’ll be here. So pretty fun, I’d say.”

He hummed.

“Guess you’re right, Chiquita.”

—

It had been around four Months since Miles had met you. And he was in over his damn head, not that he wasn’t at your first meeting. But progressively, over time, he’d fallen deeper and deeper for you.

Everything you did had him in a chokehold. The way you were so sweet with his Mom, or how even uncle Aaron liked you when he’d stopped by the cafe.

How you offered to help around with no pay, generosity basically leaking from your heart. When you would come over just to see him because you “missed his voice”.

Or would sit in his room and wait for him. If he ever came home late, injured from things you had no business knowing, you wouldn’t ask a thing. You stayed quiet, and patched him up. Let him rest his head on your collarbone while you softly rubbed his shoulders. Trying to lighten the weight of the world off of them.

Every little thing.

He was done pretending like it didn’t affect him. He could barely go a single day without you on his mind constantly, as if.

He knew you felt the same.

Still just as readable as your first meeting. He knew the frequent outings between the two of you were more than just friendly meet-ups to you. To him.

And when your gazes would catch one another, he’d try and tell you. Express without so much as a word how you were the only person he could do this with. The only one he felt comfortable to walk down the street with, and let you chat his ear off about any new movies you’d seen, books you’d have read.

He would let you sleep in his bed, bring little things into his room and give the bland walls life.

You had made a home in him. Cracked chips in his walls on by one until you’d found a single loose stone and happily let everything he’d built up fall just for you.

—

Miles had texted you around mid-day that he’d wanted to see you, in which you’d giggled at your phone dreamily.

Laying on your bed with your stomach down, kicking your legs like a girl gone stupid.

It hadn’t even been much to fret over, just a simple:

Can you come over later?

He had phrased it rather questioningly, but for no good reason. He’d known full well the moment he even insinuated you being with him, you’d jump at the chance.

And you did, swiftly replying;

okayyyy !!

I’ll pick you up at 7.

six…?

7, [Name].

>:(

Don’t be childish.

i’m nvr childish, see u at 6 C:

You got up, threw your phone somewhere on the bed and checked your, admittedly already-packed, overnight bag. Making sure nothing was missing before putting it at your door.

Your phone pinged again.

See you at six.

You smiled.

You spent the rest of that afternoon anxiously waiting for him to pick you up.

—

He showed up at your door five minutes late, greeting you at the door with a soft apology about the tardiness.

“Sorry, Mami. Took a wrong turn.”

“Don’t apologise, Miles.”

You smiled at him, stars in your eyes. He looked away for a second, a bit guilty for lying to you, but he feels it’s worth it.

“Grab your bag, ma. Let’s go.”

You hummed an affirmation, rushing to your room to grab the pink duffel bag.

You grabbed your phone off your night stand and did a double check for everything.

You walked out again, closing the door behind you. Miles was leant up against your doorframe. Forearm pressed on the wood and his torso stretched. A small sliver of his skin had peeked from under the fabric, you thanked the warming weather. Quickly averting your gaze, you noticed him watching your stare in intent, a curious smile playing at the corner of his lips.

“You good, Chiquita?”

“Uhuh—, yep. Fine.”

“Mmhm.”

You huffed out, pouting and pressing your palm to his chest, his very toned chest, and pushed back lightly.

“Get outta my way, lame-o, I gotta lock the door.”

He resisted for a moment longer, gazing down at you in humour. He trailed his hand up your arm slyly and pried your hand off his chest by sliding his thumb up from under your wrist onto your palm. Slowly pulling you off him.

“Maybe ask politely.”

You gave him an unimpressed stare and flipped him off.

“Miles.”

“[Name].”

“Oh my god.”

“It’s just a ‘please’.”

“..-Please, get the fuck outta my way.”

“Of course, Hermosa.” He snorted as he did.

You turned around, Miles still close to you in the cramped hallway, and locked your door.

You turned around, noticing his eyes glance up from where they were before and shot him a questioning look. He turned around and led you through you hallway, dismissing the look.

—

He opened the steel door to the cafe. The scenery of a rooftop garden with the same Lilly-of-the-Valley flowers up here as there were out front of the store.

Shrubbery lined the rooftop edge and the string lights hung from the veranda created an atmosphere that seemed almost cinematic.

“Jesus, Miles. This is beautiful.”

“Mm, thought you’d like it.”

“I do, so much.”

You stated in awe at the mural painted on a buildings wall behind the door. A man who stroke a resemblance to Miles painted surrounded by colours of any.

The moonlight basked against the neon colours, accenting the man’s features.

“My dad.”

Your gaze snapped up to him beside you, brows furrowing in a frown.

“I’m sorry.”

“‘S cool. Nothin’ you coulda known, Ma.”

He sighed at the image of his father, wishing him well rest.

Turning to you, he wasn’t surprised to see the greif in your eyes. He was, though, surprised at the lack of pity.

He was so used to having his far family whisper behind his back at how his soul had died with his fathers. How the light in his eyes had gone missing the day his hand had been forced, unable to get to his dad in time.

There was no escaping his death.

So to feel the understanding coming from you—. The confidence in your sorry but knowledge that pity would do no one any good, it was refreshing. Everything about you was.

He turned away from your watchful eyes, the intensity being unusual for him.

“Come sit, vida mía.”

You followed him dutifully, loyally. Like you had since the last Winter. Like you would continue for the next to come.

A set of pillows had been placed in the middle of the veranda. White wood covered in lively vines and the aforementioned string lights.

There was a layout of his pastries (which you had learned he was the baker of) laid out on a cotton blanket.

You sat on one of the pillows, legs crossed. Miles following short after.

“Oooh,” You begun to tease him “,This a romantic dinner date?” The tone of your voice was in jest, but when he had failed to answer— Your heart rate sped up and your face went hot to the touch.

“Miles? Y’know I— I was just jokin’—“ “If you want it to be.”

You stood stupidly for a moment, not quite reeling in his words like any other person would.

“Wh—.”

It was his turn for unsurity now, eyes dancing nervously between you and the skyline.

“No pressure, though. Just think it’d be nice.”

“It would.”

He refocused on you again, finding you already watching him owlishly. “Yeah?”

“Mm, we could—,”

He anxiously started picking at the blanket. Who knew someone usually so calm could be this nervous asking out the most harmless girl he knew.

“Try. We could try that, together.” You mumbled a bit, seemingly playing it off. “If you want, or something..”

“I do.” He gained some leg to stand on, finding it easier and easier as you spoke, your nerves somehow calming his own.

“I’ve wanted that for a while.”

“Oh good, cause—“ You placed your hand in your lap, cracking your knuckles. “—Me too, so. That’s good.”

He grinned at your awkwardness, knowing your lack of experience in the relationship aspect of life, this mutual agreement, instead of one asking the other out, probably hasn’t been an experience of yours yet. He liked he was the first.

“Don’t get all shy on me now.”

You puffed at him, punching his arm lightly.

“I’m never shy, that’s for dumb stupid lame people. And I am none of those.” “Oh, sure.”

“Wh— Sure?! Which one are you ‘sure’-ing? Dumb, stupid or lame?!”

“Uhuh.”

“Miles!”

“Keep saying my name like that, mami.”

“Oh my goodness!”

—

And when you both finally got into his bed, you’d slept tangled together like you had dozens of times before. But this time, Miles would grab your waist and pull you closer. Settle his face in your neck and trace his nose down the length of your shoulder, peppering a kiss on every inch of skin he could find, and you’d both finally felt sure.

Maybe people were right, maybe Miles’s soul had died with his father.

But meeting you, something new, something rejuvenating—.

It left him with a light he could search for, a new soul. A whisp of a being you’d taken from your own heart and placed in his. It left him breathless with life.

—

YIPEEE!!!!! another one 🗣️‼️

thank you to my translation helpers (bbgs) @kissmxcheek and @millyswife

(oh, wrong Miles! oops! 🤗⬇️)

#across the spiderverse #earth 42 miles morales #miles morales #miles morales x reader #miles x reader #across the spider verse spoilers #earth 42 #earth 42 miles morales x reader

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keerysfreckles · 3 months

Note

reader who has a habit of sneaking out at night to swim in the lake and Luke catches them and joins🤭🤭

YOUR BLOG AESTHETIC IS SOSO CUTE

not-so-secret — luke castellan

pairing: luke castellan x poseidon gn!reader

warnings: small makeout sesh, petnames used (babe, sweetheart)

a/n: THANK YOU IM IN LOVE WITH MAMMA MIA I HAD TO HAVE MY PFP BE SOPHIE!!!!

masterlist !

꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱

being a demigod child of poseidon had it's perks at camp half-blood. most campers respected you and percy, considering you two were children of the big three. you had a whole meal table to yourselves. you had the ability to control water (your favorite perk).

ever since you found out who your godly parent was, it's as if you were one with the water. you felt like you needed to be around it all the time. sure it felt silly to admit, but it's the truth.

almost every night when all the campers are asleep, you'd sneak out of your cabin to go to the lake. you were surprised percy never woke up with how creaky the floor boards in your cabin are. you'd alternate between the same three swimsuits and grab your favorite towel.

your routine didn't change tonight as you were on your way to the lake. the moon was full so it made the water sparkle more than it has this summer at camp.

you were quick to take your clothes off, having your swimsuit on underneath, and jumped into the water. you stayed under the water for a moment. you could breathe underwater, you knew you'd be fine.

some poeple meditate or take naps to calm down. this is your version of meditation. it always calms you down from whatever you delt with during the day. the more stressful your day is, the longer you stay underwater.

no one knew about your secret late night swims, and you wanted to keep it that way.

you merge through the surface of the water, and brush any hair that had gotten into your eyes.

a rustle in the woods around you catches your attention. usually there were nymphs jumping from tree to tree at night, but this noise was much louder than the noises the nymphs made.

you're about to speak, but someone stepping out of the woods beats you to it.

"what? you can sneak off without me now? i thought we were a package deal."

you roll your eyes and swim to the edge of the lake, "how did you even know i was out here?"

you stare up at your boyfriend, luke castellan. he was shirtless and in a pair of swim shorts. you giggled, they were bright green with baby rhinos all over the fabric. he held a towel and his orange camp shirt in his right hand.

"well i checked your cabin, and i guessed the only reasonable place you'd be is the lake. you really think i don't know about your little hiding spot?"

you blush, knowing luke knows you better than you know yourself. he sets his things down by yours before canon-balling into the lake. you swim over to him once he merges from the rippling water.

you giggle as he shakes his head side to side, flinging water droplets everywhere.

you two simply smile at each other before he breaks the silence, "like what you see babe?"

you splash him, "you're such and idiot."

you both laugh as he splashes you back. this continues for a moment before he grabs you by the waist. he can stand in the lake, giving him the advantage here. you hold onto his shoulders, before your hands move to the back of his neck.

you play with the dark curls on the back of his neck as he slowly sets you down so your face to face.

"can i kiss you?" your voice is soft, scared that if you talk louder someone might find you two.

"you never have to ask sweetheart."

you pull luke towards you, causing your lips to crash together. the kiss is full of hunger and nothing but love. you knew you kissed him before you left for your cabin earlier that night, but you'd never get used to the feeling of luke's lips on your own.

you turn your head, deepening the kiss. your bottom lip is in between his, and you can't help but smile into the kiss.

"i love you," you mumble against his lips.

he pulls back slightly, and you could've sworn you saw hearts in his eyes, "i love you."

#shelbi writes #keerysfreckles #luke castellan #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan x y/n #luke castellan x you #luke castellan x gn!reader #luke castellan x gn reader #luke castellan fic #luke castellan imagine #luke castellan pjo #pjo #pjo show #pjo series #pjo tv #pjo tv show #percy jackson #percy jackson and the olympians

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astupidweeb69 · 3 months

Text

The Roommate (Dark!Ticci Toby x F!Reader)

NSFW One-shot

Author's note: This is my first time writing smut, so sorry if this turned out bad. It's also way longer than I thought, hopefully there aren't any spelling errors. Cross posted on my AO3 account.

Warnings: Swearing. Toby being creepy, he hurts the reader, blood kink? unprotected sex, creampie, biting, it's just... a lot. (4,519 words) - Minors DNI!

___________________________________________________________

Your brother hated his new roommate.

From what you gathered from the phone calls you two had, you knew he kept to himself, was kind of creepy and left the occasional mess in the kitchen. Your brother had tried to include him when he went out with his other college friends, but he always refused. The guy was gone at odd hours during the night, and smelled like dirt and pine.

You told him it was his own fault for posting an ad for a roommate on Craigslist.

It wasn’t all bad though. He paid his rent on time, always in cash - which he slipped under your brother's bedroom door at the end of every month. Plus, he had insisted on not signing any formal documentation. The lease they had was just a last minute document drawn up for a short term stay.

Your brother would only have to put up with him for 6 months. Then he’d be gone.

But hey, beggars can’t be choosers. And your brother needed someone to pick up part of the rent last minute.

After a few months it had seemed like he’d grown accustomed to the strange ‘twitchy’ man he lived with, that is, until you told him your plans to visit.

You finally got some time off, and it was the only chance you’d get to see him. So when all the hotels in the area were fully booked you were not about to give up. And….your brother’s place had a perfectly good couch available, right?

He was reluctant at first, but after much pleading, he finally agreed.

On one condition.

Stay away from Toby.

You figured he was just being overprotective. It was kind of sweet, but he’d never been that adamant about you not talking to someone before. There must have been something seriously messed up with the guy. And to be perfectly honest, it made you second guess whether you’d actually go through with the trip out there.

But you already bought the plane ticket, and you couldn’t let that money go to waste.

So now you sat in the passenger seat of your brother's truck, the two of you making idle chit chat as he drove you back to his place from the airport.

He talked about school, the classes he was taking, what parties he’d been going to, and fraternities he’d been considering joining. That last part earned him some of your teasing about becoming a beer pong loving, “Frat Bro”.

Only after a few beats of silence, you decided to ask him something that had been bugging you since your arrival.

“Your roommate knows I’m staying at your place, right?”

It was a simple enough question. The last thing you wanted was to intrude on someone else’s living space after all.

You saw your brother grip the steering wheel harder. “Yeah. Toby should know you’re coming.” His response was curt and lacking his previous joyful tone.

“You two fighting or something?”

Your brother sighed. “No just,” He paused for a moment, and glanced at you. “He’s been acting weirder than usual.”

“Weird how?”

He didn’t say anything for a while, instead mulling over his choice of words. Not wanting to scare you, but still wanting to give you a heads up of the situation. “He’s been talking to himself. A lot.”

“That’s not that bad. Lots of people do that.” You don’t know why you felt the need to defend a person you hadn’t met yet.

Another pause. This one is longer than before.

“You haven’t heard what he’s been saying.”

______________________________________________________________

The road ahead was dark, lit up by the dim headlights of the car. The only thing out here now was trees, broken up by the occasional house. It was definitely far from campus.

The driveway was gravel, the truck rocking back and forth from the potholes and uneven terrain, finally coming to a stop in front of the house. Painted a dull plain white, one story, rather small, but it would do. It’s not like you were expecting a mansion.

After the car came to a stop, you grabbed your luggage from the backseat, following your brother to the front door where he quickly unlocked it.

The living room was sparsely decorated, with an old brown couch in the center, a small television and a coffee table littered with cans and half finished drinks.

It completely lacked a homey vibe. Definitely felt like a typical bachelor pad. You nudged his shoulder. “I love what you’ve done with the place.”

“Hey, I’m not majoring in interior design.” Your brother shot back, beginning to walk away past the kitchen, calling out to you. “I’m gonna go to bed.”

Your eyebrows furrowed with a look of disappointment. “Already? I thought we’d, like…. watch TV or something?”

“Next time don’t get such a late flight.” His face stretched into a yawn. “There’s plenty of blankets in the closet. Try not to make too much noise.” Disappearing behind the door of his bedroom, he left you standing in the room alone with your bags.

Time for bed I guess.

You sprawled yourself out on the couch, placing a pillow on the armrest, and rolled out the fuzzy blanket you’d found over your body. You turned to face the front door. The room was pitch black, with a few beams of moonlight split up by the venetian blinds.

You picked up your phone from the coffee table by your side, figuring you could watch a few videos before you fell asleep.

The screen lit up, temporarily blinding you before your eyes adjusted. Mindlessly, you scrolled through youtube to find a thumbnail that would spark any interest.

You were about to click one, when you heard someone at the front door. Your eyes widened briefly, and you quickly shut your phone off. You don’t know why. It wasn’t like you were a kid and your mom was coming into your room to see if you were actually asleep. But it felt like you needed to shut your eyes.

So you did.

The door opened slowly, whoever it was trying to remain undetected.

However, the scent that followed gave them away immediately. You actually had to stop yourself from reacting. It was a mixture of BO, dirt, and something else. Something dead.

Without even having to look, you knew it was Toby.

Footsteps, careful and calculated. The floorboards creaking.

You waited for him to walk by, expecting him to go to his room so you could continue playing on your phone.

But he didn’t.

The movements stopped halfway through, and you heard him, on the balls of his feet, making his way over to the couch you were on.

The fuck?

You felt your throat dry up. You wanted to swallow down your nerves, but you couldn’t react. You had to continue pretending, right?

You could hear him, his voice low and soft, like velvet. A boyish tone, the occasional word being broken up by some kind of stutter, muttering things you couldn’t make out.

He stopped when he got to your side, standing right in front of your face.

If you opened your eyes right now you’d probably see him peering down. His jeans dirty and torn, honey brown stare filled with curiosity, looking at the glimpses of your curves that peaked through the blanket on top of you.

A hand reached out.

Cold, yet somehow clammy… texture rough and calloused.

He was touching you.

He was touching your face.

Don’t move. Don’t you dare even flinch.

“M-must be the ssss-sister…”

That was the first clear sentence you could understand.

He retracted his hand. But you could still hear him, the heavy breathing.

His whispering.

“Soft”

Then he left.

Only afterwards did you realize you’d been holding your breath.

______________________________________________________________

“You look awful.” Your brother commented when he saw you the next morning.

It was true that you barely slept that night, made obvious by the bags under your eyes, and the change in your complexion. The interaction with the stranger, the one you’d been warned of, had plagued your mind, stirring up thoughts that kept you awake.

You grabbed a coffee mug, pouring yourself a glass, before joining your brother at the kitchen table.

From this angle, you had a clear view of the hallway. There were three doors, one must have led to the bathroom, and the other remaining two were the bedrooms.

You only stared at one of the doors though. The one leading to Toby’s room.

You knew, at some point he’d emerge and you’d finally be able to put a face to the name. A face to the hand that touched you.

For a moment, you wondered if you should tell your brother what happened. He’d probably flip out, maybe even confront the man.

So, despite your better judgment, you decided to keep it to yourself.

He only touched your face. Sure, it was creepy as hell, but you didn’t want to cause a fight during your vacation.

Your brother clapped his hands together, getting your attention.

“So listen!” He grinned widely. “We gotta plan out the strategy for tonight.”

“Strategy?” You asked hesitantly.

“Yeah strategy. There’s a party I want to go to. Kappa Alpha is hosting it.”

You tsked, sipping your coffee. “You realize I don’t know anything about the frats here. Is that like… a popular one or?”

He nodded. “Yeah it is. I’ve been trying to get into this one for a while now, so getting the invite is a big deal.”

You frowned. You were already so tired, and the idea of going to a kegger was not exactly on your ‘to do’ list. But it was important to him. So you complied.

“Okay. What time does it-”

A door opened. You stopped talking.

Your eyes widened to look over towards the sound.

Toby was up.

The first thing you noticed was a mop of dark brown hair, unkempt, with curls that went in every direction. It was slightly greasy too, he clearly hadn’t showered in a while. There was light stubble on his jawline, and his skin was a sickly, almost gray color. A snake bite graced his lower lip, and there were a few more pieces of metal sticking out the cartilage of his ears.

He shuffled forward, looking tired, still in a pair of plaid green pajama bottoms and a t-shirt with little alien faces on them.

Once he made it into the kitchen, Toby finally glanced over. You looked away immediately, embarrassed that you were caught staring.

He was handsome. You hated to admit it. But he was. You pushed the thought out of your head, reminding yourself of who he was.

“Muh-morning….” He croaked out.

Your brother gave a little nod, just enough to acknowledge him, turning back to you while Toby started toasting a poptart.

“It starts at 9, but we should show up at 10 o'clock. I don’t want to look too eager.”

“Whuh-what starts at 9?” Toby interjected.

Both you and your brother looked at him, before nervously meeting each other's gaze.

“Oh uh!” Your brother stammered. “Just another party.” He motioned over to you with his thumb. “This is my sister, (Y/N), by the way.”

Toby’s eyes bore into yours. You swallowed, trying to give him a polite, reassuring smile.

“Nice to meet you…. Toby, right?”

You acted unsure. Like you didn’t know his name by heart. Like you hadn’t had your brother vent to you about him for hours over the phone.

“Yuh-yeah. That’s right.” He looked back at your brother. “Is the puh-party tonight?”

“Yeah it’s at a frat house. Did you…” He hesitated, before finally asking him. “Want to come?”

Toby bit his poptart, shrugging his shoulders. “I've guh-got nothing better tuh-to do.” The twitching man looked back at you, wiping some crumbs from his lip. He didn’t have emotion behind his eyes, just a weird intense focus on your face.

You pretended to be unbothered.

It didn’t work.

He noticed.

And he liked the way you squirmed.

______________________________________________________________

Toby stayed in his room the rest of the day. Occasionally going into the kitchen, grabbing a snack, usually some kind of junk food, before he’d scurry back into his little cave.

You started getting ready as soon as the sun went down. It’d been a while since you’d been to a party and you wanted to look your best. Or look like you got a full 8 hours of sleep at the very least.

Toby said he’d meet you guys there. Saying something about how he needed ‘to take care of something first’. No one questioned him. Both you and your brother glad not to have to share a car ride with him.

Loud bumping music, the kind that shook a house and pounded in your chest, enveloped you when you walked inside the frat house.

Flashing lights, a crowd in the middle of the dancefloor jumping up and down. The air was hot from too many people in a room at once. You could barely move through them all to get to the bar.

God you were going to need a drink to get through this.

Maybe even a couple.

Especially after your brother left you alone to go mingle.

One tequila shot, then two maybe three rum and cokes later. You didn’t even know how long you’d been there. Time seemed to freeze. There was only the music, only the dancing, only the bodies moving against you.

You felt hot. Your cheeks burned, and it wasn’t just from the temperature of the room anymore. The room spinned a little when you walked forward. Not enough to consider yourself completely wasted though. But enough to feel…. Friendlier.

More social.

Less inhibited.

Numb.

After a lot of struggling, you made your way to the back of the room.

You leaned against a wall, catching your breath, holding a red solo cup in your hand. You could hear people trying to hold conversations by shouting over the music.

And there were plenty of people making out. In fact, you’d say the majority of people were just straight up groping each other.

It made you a little jealous if you were being honest with yourself.

You looked around, wondering if maybe you could find someone cute. You didn’t intend on getting lucky or anything, but it would sure beat just standing there like an idiot. When was the last time you even kissed somebody?

Finally, you locked on to someone across the room. Someone with honey brown eyes. Someone familiar.

Toby.

He grinned when your eyes met. It was the first time you’d seen him do that. Large toothy canine’s, that bandage on his cheek shifting slightly.

Oh god you felt your heart flutter.

You shouldn’t. You really shouldn’t. There was something wrong with him. Your brother didn’t like him. Nobody did.

He creeped you out.

He didn’t shower.

He smelled like death.

You listed the reasons out, and damn if there weren’t a lot of them. But in the end it didn’t matter. In the end, it was painfully, woefully, obvious what was going to happen.

And you were already walking over there.

You slithered over to his side, sweating, peering up at him through your eyelashes. Trying to look cute. Desirable.

It was working.

He could’ve eaten you up if you gave him the chance.

But you didn’t know that.

You fiddled with the end of your skirt, the jacket you originally wore tied around your waist. A flush on your cheeks, you let your hand gently touch his shoulder.

“H-hey… glad to see you made it.”

He tilted his head to the side, leaning down to hear you better. It made your stomach stir with excitement, he made you feel small kneeling down like that. But you liked it. Liked that he was paying attention to you, and only you.

“Whuh-what did you say?” His breath was hot on your cheek. Using the loud music as an excuse to get closer, to touch your skin. Making the hair on your neck stick up.

You breathed heavily in his ear on purpose. “I said, I’m glad you made it.”

Toby’s lips parted, not responding at first, but not moving away either. “Oh? Yuh-yeah?” He sounded amused, voice lowering an octave. “Excited to suh-see little ole’ muh-me?”

It was kind of a stupid, cheesy thing to say. Like he didn’t really know how to flirt, but maybe saw a couple movies and memorized the lines. But it somehow worked for him.

“Oh, I’m sure nothing about you is little.”

Why did you say that?

Why?

It just came out naturally. Oh god, now your face felt flushed from embarrassment.

You felt him touch the side of your face. He chuckled, a low rumble in his chest, it sounded heavenly.

“Yuh-you know, I’m having trouble huh-hearing you.” He paused looking around, making sure no one was watching. You wondered why.

“Do you want to go somewhere more private?”

That was enough to make heat travel between your thighs.

Fuck.

One meek nod from you was all he needed, before grabbing your wrist tightly.

Too tight, like he was unaware he could hurt you. Or maybe he liked causing a little pain?

He dragged you upstairs, practically lifting you with one arm, you felt like you were gliding over the steps. The muscles of his arms barely flexing under that hoodie of his, as if you were weightless.

He was strong.

You both traveled through the hallway, careful not to bump into anyone loitering in the hall. Some of the other party goers shooting you looks, but they were mostly directed towards Toby. They weren’t judging you or anything. In fact, they looked worried, maybe even a little scared. You started to wonder more about him. What was his reputation like if this was everyone’s reaction to him? Or perhaps he really just looked that scary.

So why did he turn you on?

He pushed you into an unoccupied room and flicked the light switch on.

You barely registered him locking the door behind him.

With one shove of his palm he pushed you backwards onto the bed. Your arms flailed a bit out of instinct, falling down on the mattress with an ‘oof’.

You swallowed thickly, watching him eye the way your legs had parted slightly. Your skirt hiking up dangerously on your thighs. You had to fight the urge to close them.

“Yuh-you look scared.” That velvet, sweet, voice of his was twisted by something sick.

“Are you?” His head cocked to the side, a wolfish grin on his face.

“Yes.” Was your reply. You didn’t feel like you could lie to him now. Feeling too exposed to even think straight.

He licked his lips, slowly approaching you. His fingers danced across your shoulders, traveling down your arms, sending goosebumps down your spine. They were cold and calloused, just like you remembered from the night before.

“Then whuh-why did you follow me here?” He cupped the side of your face, his thumb grazing across your bottom lip. You were going to respond, but he quickly shoved his finger in your mouth, gagging you. He wanted you to suck on them, but he didn’t communicate that well. “Why duh-did you….approach me?”

You let your tongue glide over his finger. His eyes narrowed, watching your face, before he started talking to himself. “Fuckin’ stuh-stupid.”

You paused. Was he talking about you?

“Should be whuh-working tonight…” He muttered. “Target just downstairs…. Ssss-so easy…this better be worth it…..” Toby chuckled to himself like he just told a joke.

You didn’t understand what was going on. Should you just ignore him and continue?

Toby retracted his hand from your mouth.

“Sss-so pretty….” He pushed your back onto the bed, crawling over you, his broad chest heaving, face pink and eyes lidded. Pupils dilated with lust. “So…. suh-soft….(Y/N)....”

You shivered when he said your name like that, feeling your panties dampen even more than before. Especially when he started running a large hand up your inner thigh.

You let out a shaky breath.

“Yuh-you like it when I touch you…. I know you do…” Your eyes flickered down at him, letting him continue his ramblings, Toby’s face breaking into another evil looking smile. “Luh-letting me touch you last nuh-night…. Pretending to be asleep.”

Your stomach dropped. You couldn’t hide it in your face, he fucking knew.

He fucking knew the whole time.

He burst out laughing at your expression. “Yuh-you’re still not even telling me to stuh-stop now!” Toby gripped your hip with one of his hands, lifting up the hem of your shirt with the other.

Before you knew it, he tossed the fabric over to the corner.

Your bra was next.

In any other circumstances you might’ve found it cute, or funny, when he struggled with the clasp. But something told you pointing it out to him wouldn’t have been a good idea.

He groaned at the sight of your exposed torso, immediately diving into your tits. Your nipples perked at the attention.

He was right. You weren’t stopping him. Your body screamed at you to. The smell of dirt and grime, of all things dead and decaying, it permeated off of him the more he touched you.

Toby’s mouth latched on to your left breast, the other gripped tightly in his hand. You knew you’d have bruises there tomorrow. You didn’t care.

He licked and nipped at the tender flesh, the swell of your tits heaving, your head thrown back and lips parted, letting out soft moans here and there.

A noticeable bulge grinded against your leg, as he huffed, humping himself against you like a dog.

After a while, he finally lifted his head up.

Toby looked you in the eye, grinning, licking your nipple teasingly one last time, before his attention moved to your skirt.

His hands searched your sides for a zipper, he grunted out of irritation when he couldn’t find it immediately.

You took the opportunity to gently put a hand over his, guiding it to where it was. “Here.” You said softly. “Let me help you.”

His eyes snapped up to your face when you touched him.

Immediately, his lips crashed onto yours. Needy, desperate, quickly shoving his tongue down your throat. You kissed back, swirling your tongue around his, ignoring the weird taste of metal coming from his mouth. His breath was hot and heavy, kisses sloppy. You doubted he got much practice, but he seemed to be learning quickly.

He made up for it with enthusiasm.

Finally pulling away, you both unzipped your skirt together. Lifting your hips off the bed, you shimmyed them down your legs, Toby watching in fascination.

“I’m guh-gonna fuck you.” He stated matter of factly. Then he whispered something that made your blood run cold.

“...Fuck you bloody.”

Shit this guy was scary.

In a few seconds, he ripped his hoodie off, along with his shirt. His chest was heavily scarred, a noticeable slash starting from his left side over to his shoulder, and a dark happy trail rising up from the waistband of his jeans.

You didn’t comment on it, but it was worrisome. You could only imagine what would cause someone to get hurt so badly and so often.

That said, Toby was definitely toned. A bit sickly looking, but his muscles had just a hint of a six pack formed. Maybe he did more exercise than you initially thought.

He kicked off his jeans next, unceremoniously pulling his boxers down, revealing himself to you. Lazily, he stroked himself, a thick layer of precum smearing down his shaft. It was long, veiny, but not very girthy. A flushed red tip, looking painfully hard.

You pulled down your panties slowly, already soaked, and ready. The anticipation was killing you, but you wanted to make him wait for it. His Adam's apple bobbed watching you, and you liked reveling in his stares.

“Guh-gonna split you in two…” Toby murmured, to no one in particular.

He hooked his arm under one of your legs, his body shivering with need, pulling your hips against him. He glided his shaft over your cunt, rubbing your clit slowly. He noticed you tense, how you whimpered slightly, and how your slick covered him more at the action. Looking in awe like it was some revelation to him.

Toby licked his lips, before finally enveloping himself in your heat.

It was quick. Like he was slamming a drawer shut, but he immediately bottomed out. You gritted your teeth in pain, before crying out when he started viciously pounding into you.

It fucking hurt. It hurt a lot.

“Shit..! Tuh-tight!”

Obviously, your muscles had tensed around him, feeling overwhelmed by the sudden fullness of his cock stuffing you. Unable to adjust.

You whimpered when he didn’t let up, tears pricking the corner of your eyes. A dull ache between your legs as he continued thrusting. The wet sound of skin slapping together coming from where the two of you were joined, burying his face in your neck, breathing in your scent.

Toby inhaled sharply, before you felt his mouth open wide.

Teeth broke through your skin instantly, a warm liquid dripping down your neck.

You screamed.

You screamed louder than you ever have in your life.

You screamed bloody fucking murder.

“Toby!” Clawing at his back, trying to get him to stop, you started crying. “Toby! Please!”

Luckily for you, he released his jaw to call out “(Y-Y/N)!” Not understanding your cries weren’t from pleasure.

It egged him on, encouraged him. His pelvis slamming into yours, with no let up, your tits bouncing at the force. Itching his fingers to your clit, he rubbed it in harsh circular movements, making you tighten around him.

You babbled nonsense. Finally some of the pain subsiding for pleasure, and maybe it was the lingering effects of alcohol, or the slight blood loss, but you felt a buzzing in your head. Basically incoherent, the faster he went. The brutal, bruising speed.

The way he gripped your breast, the way his hand remained on your pearl, trying his best to get you to finish, but not quite knowing how.

Something started to build.

More and more.

Hearing him growl, pant, like an animal. It was doing something to you.

You moaned loudly, wrapping your legs around him. The coil snapping, muscle spasming, pulling his cock in deeper, triggering his own climax.

His hips stuttered against you, letting out a gasp. A warmth filling you, Toby completely emptying himself inside with a deep groan, eyes rolling back in his head.

He gave a few sloppy, slow thrusts, before finally rolling off, and onto the bed next to you.

His cum leaking out of your cunt and staining the sheets.

Everything went blank for a moment, realization only just settling in. The gravity of the situation, the blood on your neck.

And an arm wrapped around your shoulders, drawing you close.

“I knew you’d be worth the truh-trouble.”

#creepypasta #toby rogers #ticci toby x reader #my writing #ticci toby smut #creepypasta smut #fanfiction #ticci toby x you #ticci toby #creepypasta x reader #ticci toby x reader smut

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fushic0re · 5 months

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𝐀 𝐇𝐔𝐒𝐁𝐀𝐍𝐃❜𝐒 𝐆𝐔𝐈𝐃𝐄 𝐓𝐎

𝐆𝐈𝐅𝐓 𝐆𝐈𝐕𝐈𝐍𝐆

⊹ ࣪ ˖ 𝗦𝗔𝗧𝗢𝗥𝗨 𝗚𝗢𝗝𝗢, 𝗦𝗨𝗚𝗨𝗥𝗨 𝗚𝗘𝗧𝗢, 𝗞𝗘𝗡𝗧𝗢 𝗡𝗔𝗡𝗔𝗠𝗜, 𝗧𝗢𝗝𝗜 𝗙𝗨𝗦𝗛𝗜𝗚𝗨𝗥𝗢, 𝗥𝗬𝗢𝗠𝗘𝗡𝗧 𝗦𝗨𝗞𝗨𝗡𝗔, & 𝗔𝗢𝗜 𝗧𝗢𝗗𝗢.

𝐃𝐚𝐲 𝟑 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝑹𝒊𝒌𝒂𝒏𝒆 𝑾𝒐𝒏𝒅𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝑨𝒅𝒗𝒆𝒏𝒕 𝑪𝒂𝒍𝒆𝒏𝒅𝒂𝒓 ⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒 ─ how they are as gift givers (how soon do they shop, do they shop late, etc.)

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 ─ 18+ ONLY; MINORS DNI. a bit of angst for toji because i can’t help myself. mentions of violence.

꒰ ͜͡➸ 𝐈𝐅 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐄𝐍𝐉𝐎𝐘𝐄𝐃 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐘, 𝐏𝐋𝐄𝐀𝐒𝐄 𝐆𝐈𝐕𝐄 𝐈𝐓 𝐀 𝐑𝐄𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐆! 𝐑𝐄𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐆𝐒 𝐀𝐑𝐄 𝐖𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒❜ 𝐁𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃 & 𝐁𝐔𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑! ♡

𝐊𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐎 𝐍𝐀𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐈

WE’RE STARTING OFF WITH THE BEST.

You literally don’t need to make it overt what you want for Christmas–not even just Christmas if we’re being real.

Takes gift giving very seriously. It’s more than just handing you things he has bought for you, it’s about celebrating you and how highly he regards you

…..Though there’s no price that can be put on how much he loves you. So, he’ll settle for spoiling you instead.

Every first of the year, he starts game planning his next gifting season.

He pays very close attention to you, memorizing your every habit down to your breathing pattern. Do not be surprised by the fact that his gifts are always immaculately packaged with wrapping paper that is the exact shade of that new color you’ve been into (yes, that one) paired with a complimentary bow and card to match.

A professional spy when it comes to purchasing your gifts.

Oh, that top you looked at for literally only 5 seconds? He’s already putting it on hold in your size for him to come pick up later.

If you didn’t know any better, you would have thought Kento never bought you anything because you never noticed a change in routine. Not a single one.

He also doesn’t put his gifts under the tree until two days before Christmas so that your nosey self doesn’t snoop through them.

You literally wake up one morning to the tree flooded with gifts and him just nonchalantly sipping his coffee.

His favorite gifts to plan are vacations for you guys. You are his motivating factor to rest and actually live the life he has made for himself.

While his gifts are immaculate, it’s his cards that are the real tear jerkers.

He writes you the most beautiful things. You stopped reading his cards when people were around because they made you sob.

Truthfully, the real gift is the sweet messages your lover leaves you.

𝐒𝐔𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐔 𝐆𝐄𝐓𝐎

Suguru is right up there with Kento in terms of gift giving.

This man is observant and prepared, putting in lots of time, care, and effort into buying you gifts.

He isn’t above sourcing your friends too. Every year, your friends get a text like, “If she mentions wanting something to you, text me ASAP please. Thank you!”

At this point, he has a whole database of things you like and want.

Unlike Kento, Suguru won’t be as secretive. He knows you know when he’s out shopping for you and loves teasing you when you get curious.

He’ll literally taunt you about all the things he’s getting you until you’re foaming at the mouth and going feral while trying to guess what he got you.

Packages his gifts and immediately puts them under the tree when you’re asleep that way you wake up to a new gift every morning until Christmas.

“Oh! Someone got a gift from Santa. Sigh, I wonder, I wonder, I wonder.”

Gift giving is symbolic to him as well. Every gift of his is sentimental and has a connection to aspects of your relationship.

Remember the cherry blossoms that had just bloomed at the park you guys were at when he first asked you out? He stuffed some in his pocket and had them framed. The dried Sakuras now hang on your office wall, a reminder of his love for you every time you work.

𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔 𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎

Money is clearly nothing to this man…but that’s what makes Christmas shopping for you hard.

He literally buys you everything you want on the spot! What the hell else is he supposed to give you?

Struggles a bit for this reason.

He tries to splurge on your less throughout the year to build up Christmas, but it’s impossible. He absolutely cannot see something that makes him think of you and not get it.

For this reason, you tell him that it’s okay that he doesn’t get you anything on Christmas since every day with him is like Christmas….this falls on deaf ears.

Really he’s most concerned with getting you something meaningful since like I said, you have everything you could possibly need and want.

Uses Megumi and Tsumiki for his emotional appeal factor.

For sure asks Suguru and Kento for help.

Ultimately, he decides to go for something simple and sentimental yet still very Satoru–a gorgeous ring with your birthstone with a sweet message engraved inside and a family photo of both of you with Megumi and Tsumiki.

That ring is just a warm up for the real deal…but he’ll plan that a little bit more elaborately.

𝐓𝐎𝐉𝐈 𝐅𝐔𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐎

Women like perfume, flowers, and shit right?

God bless this man. It’s been a while since he had to shop for a woman, he’s just trying his best.

He still needs help though.

Since the passing of his late wife, he hasn’t opened up to anyone, let alone another woman.

But here comes you in all of your glory waltzing into his life and defying all of his expectations, bulldozing his walls down like they were made of straw.

He wanted so badly to give you a token of his appreciation and love for you, but it’s so hard.

It’s hard walking through the familiar flower shop he used to frequent to buy his late wife flowers.

It’s hard thinking of her so much because he can’t help it when he does things like this.

It’s hard subtly comparing you both as he shops for you, but she’s the only other woman he’s ever loved and his only guide to doing right by you.

Toji’s not a rich man. He won’t ball out on you the way Satoru or even Kento does.

He resorts to a lot of homemade gifts with the help of Megumi because lord knows he can’t craft for shit.

He takes the traditional approach with flowers, breakfast in bed, homemade ornaments–little things that bring life and love into your shared home.

He saves all of his measly paychecks to buy you a locket. Inside is a picture of you, him, and Megumi.

On the other side of the locket are the words he’s too afraid to say out loud because they’ll break him…..

“Thank you for loving me.”

𝐑𝐘𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐍 𝐒𝐔𝐊𝐔𝐍𝐀

………God.

Do not tell this man you want anything because he will get it for you, but tenfold.

Oh, you enjoyed your trip to Kyoto? He’ll kill everyone there so you both are the sole inhabitants of the city. Kyoto is now yours.

You love the ocean? Great, it’s yours and whoever roams it without permission will be considered trespassers and dealt with accordingly.

Fuck a beach house, he’ll just give you the whole sea.

He will literally mount the heads of your enemies on the mantel or hang their beating hearts on a gold chain that you can wear around your neck if it brings you joy.

In his head, there are no limits when it comes to his Queen of Curses. None whatsoever.

He wants you to be instantly gratified. You are the one person he feels the need to prove something to.

There really isn’t much to be said other than this.

This man would burn the world if it meant keeping you warm, so don’t be surprised when he does.

𝐀𝐎𝐈 𝐓𝐎𝐃𝐎

……God 2.0.

Aoi is the kind of guy to buy you a whole present just because you sneezed and that calls for a pick-me-up present.

He buys you apology gifts when you have to open a door by yourself because he isn’t around.

Christmas is his time to SHINE.

He approaches it like it’s an Olympic sport that he needs to win otherwise he’s unworthy of being your man.

Shops early as hell so that the things you want don’t sell out.

Not above throwing hands if he needs to snag the last of your items.

Your wishlist is essentially a binding vow to him and if he doesn’t fulfill it, he’ll die.

Horrible at hiding them because he gets so overwhelmed with excitement that he wants you to see what he got you right away. The gifts don't even get wrapped.

By the time Christmas actually arrives, his presents are the only ones under the tree because he forced you to open all of yours prior.

He tried to control himself, but at some point he literally starts waking you up in the middle of the night because he will not sleep out of pure adrenaline.

SO DRAMATIC. He practically gives you his presents like he’s acting out a Shakespearean play.

He’ll kneel, bow, and grandly bestow each present upon you with two hands.

Your reactions mean the world to him.

Each time you get all giggly and happy opening gift after gift, his heart swells.

He could deadass start crying tears of joy right then and there tbh.

Those reactions are his gift.

#satoru gojo x reader #satoru gojo #suguru geto x reader #suguru geto #kento nanami x reader #kento nanami #toji fushiguro x reader #toji fushiguro #ryomen sukuna x reader #ryomen sukuna #aoi todo x reader #aoi todo #jjk x reader #jjk #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk fanfic #jjk headcanons

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ixiot-ghostrebel · 5 months

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Hello! I saw that your requests are open so I thought, I'll shoot my shot

So, it'll be SAGAU with Impostor and Isekai trope. The reader is a real Creator, while the fake one is on the throne. But! What if they look completely different? Characters don't hunt reader because well, they don't look like their beloved grace and they're unaware that their sweet creator is in fact a real impostor.

But when you look at reader and the fake creator, you can see a total difference in their surroundings. The real Creator - Reader, is connected to the Teyvat, right? The flowers bloom everywhere where they stand, the trees are more green and lively, while there's nothing like this with the impostor in the throne.

So! To the idea- How about Zhongli and Kaeya's (or any other characters you'd like to add here) to see their Reader cut themselves and suddenly bleed gold - while they saw their beloved Grace bleed red and suddenly, they connect the dots?

Ooh, this is certainly interesting, @ilumin! I'll see what I can come up with :)

Zhongli & Kaeya Find Out The Imposta :)

You weren't gonna lie—you kinda freaked when you realize the isekai and sagau trope thing happened on you. Reading fanfiction from the internet, you knew how things were gonna go down. You read the signs.

Safe to say you were not expecting you yourself to be the "lucky winner" of this entire thing. Nu-uh. Not one bit. You knew this was gonna be a hellhole.

That is, of course....you realized that the Imposter did not look like you at all. You were kinda stoked about it—that means you weren't gonna get ratted out, or killed, or hunted—so yay you! Time to chill with some bros! Time to free ball it while you still can!

And thennn... one night you were hanging with some ppl, and you accidentally nicked your finger.

You guessed it right, fellas, you bled gold. And that did not go unnoticed.

Good luck.

(Warning: Might be OOC!)

Zhongli

When he first met you, Zhongli thought you were like The Traveler—you were someone who passed the Celestial Atmosphere above, and descended down to traverse the world.

With Their Grace present, their world has prospered and Zhongi is proud to say that Liyue was doing well under their rule. But when you came, he was a little surprised to see how the earth seemed to connect with you. Flowers around you seemed brighter, precious rocks seem to surface at your presence..and you somehow manage to always be able to get the most freshest fruit anyone can come across.

You were truly an interesting enigma that Zhongli is curious to learn more of. He commits every detail about you to memory. The day the wind conveniently came to the rescue when the days were boiling hot. The time where you managed to restock your food stalls even though so many Liyueans were nabbing them and almost leaving you nothing. Everything Zhongli saw, he noted down in his mind.

You eventually became acquainted with him the moment he walks up to your food stall. It wasn't that packed in the morning (somehow), and it allowed the two of you to get to know one another better. Safe to say your relationship was solid.

And then you bled gold that one night. Zhongli eyes your blood with wide expressions, before immediately excusing the both of you out of the situation.

He cannot believe that the person that sits on the Creator's Throne was not the Creator. He's constantly being bombarded with the "Creator" and their meetings, while you were just selling goods on the streets of Liyue.

"...Your Grace..." Zhongli looks at you as he puts a bandage over your finger. "...Truly, we have all been deceived." And while you're glad that he wasn't suggesting you start up a riot, you were kind of worried about what he'll do to the Imposter the next time Zhongli sees him.

Safe to say he did have a "Chat" with them that consisted of a meteor and a lot of "I will have Order!" voicelines repeating over and over again.

Kaeya

When you got plopped into Mondstadt, somehow, the winds started becoming more gentle and a lot more carefree. Everyone saw this as a sign of Barbatos, you saw this as a sign of the world trying to rat you out or something.

You decided to get a job at the Tavern to get info, and boom you meet Kaeya. You should've expected this when you got a job at Angel's Share, because this hottie bro is very much interested on your merchandise.

Safe to say, though, Kaeya was very interested in you. Like Zhongli, he takes note of your every move. But, unlike Zhongli, Kaeya's trying to see how your...unique superpowers work, and how they can be used to help protect Mondstadt—assuming he manages to convince you to join.

Kaeya is very talkative in the Tavern, so he usually talks to the bartenders. Diluc is pulling his hair out to see how much info Kaeya's spilling to you during your shifts, half of which are just boasting about the Knights of Favonius.

When you nicked your finger, though, you knew things were going down. It didn't help that Kaeya noticed. His eyes widen for a fraction, before he stands up and suggests that you both should take a walk around the streets of Mondstadt when your shift was done.

You agree, seeing as there's no way out of this, and quickly grab a bandaid to patch up the scratch. Once you were both out, Kaeya speaks first, in a low tone.

"My...I never knew the Almighty Creator could be this sneaky, to have an imposter sit on the throne while they serve cups at my favorite tavern." You look at him incredulously. He took the situation to praise you to make himself sound like he was blessed?

Good sir, this was the opposite of how your life got thrown upside down when you entered Teyvat. Then again, this sounded a lot better than getting killed, so you'll take it as a win. For now.

Kaeya promises to keep this a secret, but safe to say Diluc is rubbing his temples when he hears the Calvary Captain himself trying to offer you a position in the Knights of Favonius, saying you had potential and whatnot.

Honestly, he just wants to spend more time with you outside of the tavern.

Ghost Rebel Side Notes: Why the heck did this take SO MUCH LONGER than I expected sobbing. Sorry y'all—istg life is hitting me like Truck-Kun.

Also one more thing: Furina is my new child now. She and Fremmi are my Fontantian Children. Love 'em both too much ppl will have to pry them out of my cold-dead hands.

✦ Check out The Ghost Rebel’s Blog Description & Info Page to See if Their Mailbox is Open! ✦

#genshin impact sagau #genshin sagau #self aware genshin #sagau x reader #genshin self aware #sagau #sagau genshin #yandere sagau #genshin cult au #sagau brainrot #sagau cult au #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact #genshin imagines #genshin imact #sagau zhongli #sagau impostor au #imposter au #imposter sagau

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imaginesmai · 2 months

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The orange peel theory - Azriel

I saw this post by @marvelsmylife and I thought I would give it a try! I've seen also lots of couples doing this on TikTok, so here's my take on how Azriel would do it. Hope you like it!

Plot: the spring court is beautiful, oranges are beautiful, but there's nothing more beautiful than your mate.

You loved the Spring court, you really did. Unlike Cassian, who couldn’t even get out of his room without sneezing the life out of his body, you spent your time there walking through the beautiful gardens. No matter how terrible Tamlin was, how much you despised the meetings between courts – you loved the Spring court.

All your friends and family were busy that morning, most of them in said meeting. Rhys and Feyre had been the first ones to arrive, Cassian and Azriel following close. You had woken up to an empty bed and cold sheets, your mate’s training not keeping up with your late nights reading. Still, Azriel had left you a short note and a beautiful flower.

You would have spent the morning with Nesta, but she was busy with Elain preparing the last details of her wedding with Lucien. Mor and Amren had chosen to stay in Velaris, and that left you alone in those beautiful gardens.

Time flew by each time you stopped to look at a flower or insect, as you let your body soak the warm sun through the trees. You wouldn’t have noticed the morning rolling away if it wasn’t for your stomach rumbling angrily at you. Deciding leaving the gardens was too much of an effort, you looked around for something to eat.

The meeting would end soon, but you would remain for two days more. There were enough matters to discuss that the high lords needed more than one meeting. As soon as Azriel was free, he would come looking for you – and you didn’t want to waste any time eating when you could explore the beautiful court.

So, when you spotted the orange tree, you made your decision.

It was big enough that you had to step on a bench to grab the closest orange. Once you did, you couldn’t resist grabbing some more. Big and colorful, your mouth watered just at the sight. You ended up on your tiptoes, barely keeping balance, gathering the oranges between your chest and arm.

One of them rolled out of your grasp, but before it fell, shadows gathered around it and brought it back to the group. You smiled instantly, stretching slightly to take the last orange. You felt your body gravitating forward as the tips of your fingers barely grazed it, and just before you could fall over, warm hands rounded your waist.

You were lifted the missing inch and stabilized at the same time, shadows keeping your legs upright. After taking the orange, you barely had time to look at it before you were lowered to the ground, back meeting his hard chest.

“Aren’t you a little shabby for a thief?” Azriel whispered against your ear, holding you close. “Risking your life for a bunch of oranges?”

“Oh, like you would have left me fall” you rolled your eyes, resisting the urge of squirming away when his lips brushed your cheek.

“I could have been away”

“Still”

You turned around, your arms full of oranges, and met his hazel eyes. Azriel could have been miles away, in a different country, that you were sure his shadows would have found a way of keeping you from hurt, just as they always did. You knew it, he knew it, and there was no real concern under his words, just playful banter.

Politics, territorial business and high lords were hard for him, and you could guess the outcome of the meeting in the darkness under his eyes. Still, when you looked at him, they shone a little brighter, his lips curling upwards.

His wings blocked the sun from behind, but some rays peeked through and made him look even more divine than he already was. Only a few hours away, and you already missed him.

His arms circled your waist and he lowered himself until he could kiss you softly, erasing the memories of the previous meeting. He tasted like home, like safety, and you were ready to drop your treats and wrap yourself around your mate.

Barely two seconds into the kiss, it was broken by the loud sound of your stomach reclaiming you back to your previous task. Azriel tore away with raised eyebrows, and burst into a loud laugh at your rosy cheeks.

“It’s past lunch time, don’t judge me” you looked down to your arms. “Want an orange?”

“I would love nothing more than a stolen orange”

You didn’t need words when you were with him, not as you sat on the bench you had climbed on and Azriel took the oranges from your grasp. His dark leathers were a rough contrast with your soft dress, the scars on his hands contrary to your careful touch. He didn’t flinch like he used to when you wrapped your fingers around his, only smiled softly and pressed a kiss to the back of your hand.

There was no other place you would rather be but on that bench with him, the sun and shadows creating a beautiful landscape full of flowers and colors.

Azriel took the last orange from you and easily peeled its roughness away. His nails were chipped and broken, but he managed to get the whole thing off and hand it to you in small pieces. You gladly let him put the first one in your mouth, happy with not moving a muscle away from him.

“I can do that” you raised a brow as you bit on the juicy fruit.

“And I can do it for you” he bit on the next piece, eyes dropping to your mouth.

You tried grabbing the rest of the orange from him, but he easily brushed you away. It was common for him to do that type of stuff – peeling an orange for you so your hands wouldn’t get dirty, doing your hair in the morning when you were too tired, putting food on your plate before his own.

Those little things had built a comfortable relationship during your years together. You cleaned the blood off his leather when he came back from a mission and he brought you flowers each Sunday. He folded your clothes in a neat pile to you after your bath and you helped him tie his boots when he was sore from training.

The birds chirped around you as he kept peeling oranges, handing you some pieces and eating the rest of them. You watched as he carefully removed the white striped that you always complained about, checking each piece before giving it to you.

“How was the meeting?” you tried eventually, breaking the peaceful silence.

“It was” he shrugged, plucking the last part of the peel before dividing the orange. “Tamlin growled at everything and everyone. Kallias stepped out in the middle of it. Beron and Eris”

“What of Beron and Eris?”

“They were… them”

You knew without words that Beron and Eris had been the worst part of it. Maybe, if it wasn’t for them, Azriel would enjoy the politics of those meetings. He would stand in that room with his wings wide and head high. But they always managed to find something to bring him down, to make him feel less than them. And you would have gladly punched them into the knowing they wouldn’t even get close to the man Azriel was.

Azriel didn’t elaborate the answer for a while, both of you eating quietly. Once he had peeled the fourth orange and you had refused the last part, he started plucking the crumbs from under his nails.

You hoisted your legs up to his own, and made yourself comfortable on his lap. The reaction of having your body close was instant, his muscles going lax and his shoulders dropping.

“Rhys thinks Eris will stick to his part of, you know” Azriel talked softly, as if his shadows wouldn’t inform him of any presence within twenty feet. “But when he’s with his father, with that… smile and attitude, I wish he wouldn’t. I just wish it was different”

“I know” you agreed, pressing your stained lips to his cheeks. “It will be soon”

He turned to look at you and you smiled as brightly and convincingly as you could. Working with Eris was worse than any type of meeting. Having him coming to Velaris, where your home was, and letting him know where the most precious part of him lived was hard enough. But watching him play his enemy in a room full of threats and knowing he knew those things was on a different level.

It broke your heart each time he came back from those meetings, each time his vulnerability became apparent and you could do nothing about it.

Just smile, stay by his side, and stick to the promise of not letting anything happen to any of you.

You tried changing the subject for his sake and yours, anything to make him smile again like a few minutes before. Brushing the sticky stain on his cheek, you mentioned something Nesta had talked about before.

“There is a theory, you know” you started, trying to bite the smile off your lips so he would take you seriously. “About males, and oranges, and peeling them”

“Likely a theory of one of your books” he teased, and when you didn’t confirm neither deny it, he chuckled. “Or Nesta’s. I don’t know which one is worse”

“The theory says, that if your partner peels oranges for you without asking or saying, they love and care about you” you repeated what Nesta had told you a few days ago. “Getting their hands dirty and not minding about it because they love their partners more”

“More than an orange’s peel?” Azriel smiled widely now. “After almost fifty years of relationship, I hope you too love me more than that”

“You’re missing the point”

“It’s a stupid theory”

It was because he did way more than peel oranges for you. And you did way more than change the subject to stupid theories so he would take his mind off the worries. If Azriel had to peel a thousand oranges for you, he would do it. If he was allergic to them, he would still do it.

There was little Azriel wouldn’t do for you. The basics of protecting you, of giving you his love and affection, were already set at the begging of your relationship. But as he thought of the stupid orange peel, he wondered if there was something he wouldn’t do for you.

And he knew that there wasn’t.

“Let me guess” he tugged your legs closer and looked into your eyes with a deep frown of concentration. “Nesta told you about it, just as he has told you about the rest of stupid theories you have put to test. And she has also told Elain and Feyre, and you all have put it to test”

“You’re missing Mor” you smiled, knowing he would make the whole story perfectly.

“Rhys passed, for sure. Lucien too, though he would probably be a little wary and ask about it before doing it, because Elain doesn’t eat too many oranges” he guessed correctly, making you scoff a laugh. “And Cassian asked Nesta to peel his orange”

You burst into a laugh because, just like he had said, had happened.

As you tilted your head back, a ray of sun hit the side of your face and Azriel’s heart started beating a little faster. He would never not find you beautiful, but sometimes, it would hit him just how beautiful you were. How lucky he was, how perfect his mate was. The cauldron had made him wait, had made him suffer, and all of it was worthy from the moment he laid his eyes on you.

“I love you” he smiled, Eris and Beron long gone from his mind. “Even if you’re a shaggy thief”

“I love you too”

Azriel closed his eyes and let the sun bake his skin. Having you in his arms always felt good, no matter where you were. Spring court, Velaris, your home. He could be lying in a battlefield with you in his arms, safe and sound, and it would feel like heaven.

The meeting had been shitty, and the two days left in that court would be too. But if enduring it and peeling oranges for you would get him that kind of peace, he was ready for it to last forever.

Want to read more? Check out my side blog @imaginesmaimasterlists, where I keep all the masterlists! Feedback is always appreciated

Let me know if you want me to do an Azriel taglist!

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tiyoin · 1 year

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♡ 🐰 wait, you’re a girl?! ✩ೃ°

synopsis ───◌ where the twst guys find out the ramshackle perfects secret

characters ┈┈◌ jack howl ♡ leona kingscholar ♡ ruggie bucchi

cw ──♡⃝ cursing, leona’s overblot, ruggie basically black mailing reader 😭, questionable bonus,

𝐉𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐇𝐨𝐰𝐥

⊹ ︶︶︶⠀୨ first impression ୧⠀︶︶︶ ⊹

You smelt sweet. Yeah, that’s a weird thing to say but it’s true. When you walked past him in the hallways, he noticed this… sweet, almost refreshing scent that softly entered his nose.

Now he isn’t saying he doesn't like it, but he is saying that it’s odd for a guy to have such a dainty smell, and Jack's a smart guy. So he has 2 possible hypotheses of why you smell like that.

You're from another world and things might be different there

You're a weirdo and he should avoid you at all costs

So if you see Jack eyeing you, or just tensing up around you, just know you made his radar.

Whoops🤷🏻

⊹ ︶︶︶⠀୨ how he found out ୧⠀︶︶︶ ⊹

He reluctantly became your friend, let's get that clear. After the spell-drive incident, he couldn't seem to shake you, tweedle dee, and tweedle dum off his back. So there you three stayed like leeches.

It was only when Ace and Deuce got those anemone things on their heads that Jack truly joined your band of misfits. But that's not the point.

The moment when he found out about your little secret was when you were both hiding under Azul’s desk after trying to get to the contracts. You were squished up against either side of the dark oak deck when Jack couldn’t stop thinking about how unnaturally short you were. I mean, hey he doesn't judge, Heartslabyul’s dorm leader is short and Jack respects him. But he never noticed it until now, with his thigh completely overwhelming yours in both size and mass.

Or maybe he’s never noticed how small your hands are? Must come with the size he guessed. But the one thing that truly bothered him was your face, it was soft and delicate, so much chubbier and fuller than any guy he’s seen… and your smell… it almost reminds him of…

His eyes shot open as the door to Azul’s office opened.

⊹ ︶︶︶⠀୨ the confrontation ୧⠀︶︶︶ ⊹

It’s been weird lately. Besides the fact that Ace and Deuce are busy working slaving away at the Monstro, Jack has also started to act more… like Jack around you. Always hovering, carrying things, and nagging. Nag nag nag nag! ‘Y/n don't do this, y/n don't do that, y/n you'll get hurt, don't go in there it's dangerous!’ He was treating you like a damsel in distress when Ace and Deuce were the real ones.

Yet here he is babying you while treating them like normal! It’s gotten so bad that those two plus Grim started raising eyebrows whenever Jack did something for you.

So you decided to do what all smart people do; confront him.

So you do.

You pull him from his track practice and bring him under one of the trees that acts as shade for the runners whenever they're about to pass out from heat exhaustion.

Of course, you were trying to think about the correct way to go about this, because being in a school full of boys, especially teenage boys in mid-puberty, you had to learn to pick your words carefully.

“Why have you been acting weird lately?”

Great start.

Jack denies it, claiming this is how he treats all his friends, yet when you peek behind him to his low swinging tail, and back up to his cherry-sprinkled face, you know you’ve caught him in the act.

You sighed, running a hand through your hair to try and claim even a little of your nerves. “You know, don't you?”

He was silent before he spoke. “I do”

You bit your lip, the two of you unable to keep eye contact any longer due to the embarrassment of the whole situation. There was a pause, yet none of you said something. You both just let the cool autumn breeze cool your nerves before you spoke. Yet Jack beat you to it.

“I know you're wondering when I found out…” You nodded hesitantly. “Well, I’ve had my suspicions the first time I met you-“

“Was it my height?” You asked, but Jack quickly dismissed your guess which sidetracked him to commemorate Riddle and a kid named Epel.

“They’re both short but respectable, hard-working guys. So I thought the same about you. Being a magicless human in a school full of aspiring magicians can be hard, especially with no family or friends to back you up. Though I'll admit, at first I pegged you as a fool looking for trouble more than respectable- until the spell-drive tournament that is.” He added on quickly, not wanting to increase the raise in your brow.

“But I found out when we were in Azul’s office… I never noticed how soft you were. How… squishy you were”

You snorted “Squishy?” You repeated, causing the light flush on his cheeks to worsen. “Hey, this is embarrassing enough as it is! Just- let me finish talking alright!” He growled. Though that didn’t scare you as you kept silently laughing at his unusual choice of wording.

“Only then did it click for me that you were a girl.”

You nodded thoughtfully, looking up at the half-naked tree, a leaf fell and fluttered to the ground, before another leaf followed, and another, and another.

Yet kept your eyes on the tree, on the leaves as you kept thinking about everything he just told you.

“I’ll keep your secret you would like me to, and I apologize for how I’ve been treating you…”

Your eyes were still on the tree “But?”

“But.” He completed staring at you despite the far-away look you had. “I won't change how I’ve been treating you these past couple of weeks.”

Your eyes waivered to his as a cautious tone of curiosity laced your tone. “And why is that?”

“Because” He breathed in, searching for the right words to say, searching for the proper way to say the undeniable fact in a way that won't drive you away, or make you laugh.

“You’re not from here, you have no family or background, no nothing. You're not a beastman, let alone have magic. So there’s no way for you to protect yourself in an all-boys school. It isn't safe for you. If I know you're a girl the others will figure it out too, and where will that leave you? What will happen if the wrong people; Azul, find out? If we weren't friends” He made a face while saying it, like the word was foreign to him “I wouldn’t be doing this. But you are, so you can't stop me.”

“Jack for crying out loud! I’ve dealt with two house warden’s overblots! I can handle a few horny guys!”

He sighed, and his ears twitched. “You can’t change my mind.” That was all he said before he walked away.

Achievement unlocked! You just gained a wolf bodyguard!

⊹ ︶︶︶⠀୨ what happened after? ୧⠀︶︶︶ ⊹

You’ve gained a shadow is what happens next. Jack is practically all over you to the point where Grim and the Aduece combo felt a wee bit threatened. Claiming that he better not be trying to steal you away. But it’s fine, you’re actually kind of grateful (though you’d never admit it out loud)

People aren’t giving you scrutinizing looks or curious gazes anymore, instead, they're trying to avoid your gaze in fear of the brooding cc 6-foot buff freshman that follows you.

He has calmed down a bit, having someone consider your opinion was nice for a change. You carry your own stuff and take care of your own problems, unless it’s on a top shelf he can easily reach.

Sometimes you both brainstorm ways to mask your scent so you don't attract any eyes and noses. And the solution was scent blockers, usually reserved for female beastmen's heat. You were deemed the acceptance (Those things are like fucking horse tranquilizers)

𝐋𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐚 𝐊𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐚𝐫

⊹ ︶︶︶⠀୨ first impression ୧⠀︶︶︶ ⊹

Who? All he knew was that you were probably gonna mess up his peaceful school life. If being from another world didn't make that evident, then you and your pussycat almost burning down the joint did.

He was already getting a headache from all the new scents and loud chatter, so he just wanted to go back to his dorm where his Egypt cotton-laced mistress was waiting.

⊹ ︶︶︶⠀୨ how he found out ୧⠀︶︶︶ ⊹

He would make it seem like he found out all on his own, but in reality, he overheard you say it yourself. Well, not outright yourself, but it was in an awkward- oh sevens that doesn't even cover the severity of how embarrassing the conversation was.

Jack’s mom somehow found out about your little secret (looks at Jack)

note, he slipped up when going on break, how might you ask? He forgot to shower and wash his clothes so when his mom confronted him about the new smell 👀 all he could do was curse silently under his breath.

yes there are scent blockers but c'mon, how effective can those things be all the time

Anyways! His mother created a feminine hygiene care package for you! Packed full of feminine hygienic products, deodorants, and razors, albeit a bit cheap but you couldn't complain.

Back to Leona, Ruggie had begged (bribed) him to at least do some of his house warden duties, like for example; making sure everyone got back safely from break, and that they were situated in their dorms. And after a hard day's work, he was on his way back to his dorm for some shut-eye when he heard a high-pitched squeal, one that made his ears twitch angrily.

Jack.

He had already checked in with the freshman and assumed he just had a girlish scream despite his masculine appearance.

“Oh my god Jack I love you so much!”

Leona’s head snapped towards the freshman’s door because what the fuck was that??

Girls weren’t allowed on campus, let alone in dorm rooms.

Leona groaned, a gloved hand sliding down his face as he groaned again, deeper. Great. More work for him. It was too much work to get Crowley involved so he’ll just warn Jack, sternly.

He did have to give kudos to the young freshman, because the last time someone tried bringing their girlfriend in, they were caught at the magic mirror and given detention. Of course, Jack could be given the same treatment, but he was feeling oddly generous… He stopped thinking as a slimy feeling crept up his back.

As previously stated, Leona has amazing hearing, if not the best hearing in the school- and he takes pride in that, he really, truly does.

Another thing Leona took pride in; he was hard to surprise. His aloof personality cracks for no one. Sure, there may be a quick eye raise, or maybe even a slight pause if he's talking. Other than that, nothing. Zip, zilch, nada, nothing.

So when Leona was surprised to the point where he whipped his head back towards the freshman’s door again, he was glad no one was there. Especially Ruggie.

“Y/N please be a little quieter, someone could be outside!”

All else was unimportant as Leona stood outside the door, frozen, hand just about to land on the door before it fell limply to his side.

There was a few seconds' pause before he backed away and slowly slinked back to his room to process what he just found out.

(He was conflicted because a girl helped stop 3 overblots.

But then again, Faerina’s wife could get him out of his room…)

⊹ ︶︶︶⠀୨ the confrontation ⠀︶︶︶ ⊹

You were in the botanical gardens helping Crewel pick rare plants for next class. It was a nice arrangement if you do say so yourself; help Crewel prepare for class, grade papers and get alone time to study for your worst subject.

So the chance to explore the gardens after staying in stuffy classrooms all day was a Hail Mary for you.

Until you stepped on a snake.

Shrieking like a banshee, you heard the snake protest as it darted into the bush. Scrambling a few feet away, you kept your eyes locked onto the bush, waiting for the snake to fly out and exact its revenge.

That would have been the better scenario anyways. Instead, you were met with a towering lion beastman, tail in hand and his ears in flight mode.

Shit. It was Jack’s house warden. Leona.

After hearing horror stories, you knew no matter how low you bowed or how profusely you apologized, you were royally screwed.

“Oi, I’d watch where you're going if I were you” He stepped closer. “Cause you don't know what someone could do to a herbivore like you” He stepped closer as you took a step backward.

“So small and soft… not an ounce of muscle on ya. Makes one think if you're even a guy at all” He forced you to look up like he was challenging you not to.

“I’m not a girl!” your eyes widened in horror as his smirk deepened.

Uh oh. Voice crack.

Yeah puberty, and all, but you were well past the age of voice cracks.

“You should really keep your voice down” he whispered, leaning in on you. His breath rustled your hair which tickled your ear sending a sharp shiver up your spine and to your brain, sending it into a red alert. It was a whole chain reaction just from his breath. You haven't felt this pathetic in a while.

“As you never know who could be listening”

And with that, he walked away.

⊹ ︶︶︶⠀୨ what happened after? ୧⠀︶︶︶ ⊹

Nothing. Literally nothing.

You were skittish around him, anxious about the thought of him spilling your secret to the whole school. But little did you know, Leona did not care. Not in the slightest. At most, he's probably impressed.

I mean with 3 overblots under your belt, you were fine. So there’s no need for him to keep an eye out on you. Nope, none at all.

It’s all the same, as you and Leona barely interacted before so why would that change now? You already got a bodyguard, and who was he to impose his morals on you?

…yet that doesn't stop his sharp gaze from following you whenever you crossed paths.

Where he was from, girls were fierce, dominant, and controlling, a perfect example of that was his sister-in-law. And of course, he knew not every girl was like that, as not everywhere has the same traditions as the sunset savanna. But you were a magicless girl in an all-boys school. And that didn't sit right with him. (No matter how much he tried to ignore it)

He’s basically your convenient savior, popping up if Jack isn't around and claiming he was napping there and you were disturbing him.

Don’t be surprised when there's an unmarked package on your steps filled with a few months supply of premium scent blockers. And don't bother confronting Leona cause he’ll deny it.

𝐑𝐮𝐠𝐠𝐢𝐞 𝐁𝐮𝐜𝐜𝐡𝐢

⊹ ︶︶︶⠀୨ first impression ୧⠀︶︶︶ ⊹

Yawn, just another extra.

He met you during the spell drive arc when you stopped him from pushing Trey down the stairs. You smelt nice, was all he remembered before scampering away. But as nice as you smelt you made him nervous and he couldn’t understand why.

I mean, he injured heartsbyul's vice house warden, he’s stolen from men thrice his size, and he’s friends with Leona for crying out loud! All of this would make one think he had balls of steel and answered to no one.

Except for Leona.... and his grandma of course… Well I mean, sometimes his sisters too but that's it! Really!

Women in the Savannah scare the shit out of him, all strong, dominant and all that junk made him shiver.

Ruggie is observant. So the fact that you could inflict the same kind of caution women give him... Strange. He’ll have to keep an eye on you.

⊹ ︶︶︶⠀୨ how he found out ୧⠀︶︶︶ ⊹

Hehehhehehehehhe

Unfortunately for Ruggie, he's going to be a victim to a trope, sorry not sorry. During Leona’s overblot your legs were shackled in the sand, unable to move, and unable to flee from the stalking lion.

It was just the 3 of you, the rest of your friends outside the swirling sand tornado, standing there helplessly.

Foolish herbivore was all Ruggie could think as you clawed up your ankles, feverishly looking between the house warden and your trapped feet.

Your eyes were wide with fear.

Oh.

An epiphany.

You reminded him of him, that's why he felt uncomfortable with you. You reminded him of a younger, scrawnier self. One that did anything and everything to survive, one that had to conserve food and the little money he had so he could've able to live. One that had nobody but his grandma and a few siblings.

Just a boy from the slums living off of stolen leftovers. Covered in rags, dirt, and bruises. A boy who hoped, dreamed, and prayed for a way out.

A boy whom you shared those same hopeless shimmering eyes with.

Fuck.

Ruggie didn’t know what he should do. Well, he lied, he did but he didn't know if he should do it. But as Leona hit the 10-meter mark Ruggie made a break for it

His legs carried him as fast as the sand would let him, and endless curses spilled from his lips as he saw Leona’s head turn in his direction. Shouting something, he threw a scalding hot gust of sand his way. Gritting his teeth as the searing grains of sand were pelted at him He kept repeating to himself: It was better than someone dying.

He didn't know why he chose to voluntarily go back into the jaws of death; he barely escaped thanks to Riddle.

Maybe it was those damned eyes of yours.

Tackling you onto the sand dome, you both just missed death's door as you both grunted at the sagging impact.

As much as you're both grateful for skating by the sandstorm, that couldn't bring attention away from the uh… obvious cushion.

“ Y-you're a girl!?”

“Not the time Ruggie!”

⊹ ︶︶︶⠀୨ the confrontation ୧⠀︶︶︶ ⊹

Basically a cat and mouse game. You spot Ruggie in the cafeteria, and Ruggie creates a clever way to lose you, may it be a crowd of people, laugh with me, or a ‘happy little accident’. He wants nothing to do with you so if you would just leave him alone that’d be great.

But of course you keep persisting, and eventually you catch up with him and corner him in the hallway.

“Why are you avoiding me?”

“Good morning to you, too perfect. If you would excuse me, I have to get Leona's homework from Trein, then do my own. So I really don't have a lot of time-“

“Then I’ll join you “ You smiled, grabbing his jacket sleeve before walking towards Trein’s room. It was foolish of you to assume it would be that easy, he’s a sneaky hyena after all.

Retracting his arms from his jacket, he expertly shimmied out of it like an octopus from a jar. He smiled as you turned around glaring at him, his jacket dangling from your clenched fist.

“Sorry, perfect, but I’d rather not have this talk” He shrugged before walking away. He was free, the sunlight spilled through the dirtied glass windows and onto the walkway of the hallway, highlighting his path to freedom.

“Not so fast Ruggie Bucchi! You get back here!”

And just like that the gates to heaven closed and he was dragged back down to earth. “Shit” He whispered, already starting into a sprint as he heard you thundering footsteps behind him. He felt like Jack from Jack and the Beanstalk, only he was Jack running away from the giant (you) who's ready to eat him alive for stealing his golden goose. (Over exaggeration, you just wanted to talk)

With lingering people in the hallways, he was able to disappear a few times, or purposely put them in your way. Yet each and every time you found him. No matter how hard he tried to lose you, you caught up. What was this a horror movie?

Finally, the hallway ended and he was trapped with no escape. You were stalking towards him, like a predator who had just found its prey.

“Ruggie I just want to talk” You put your hands up in surrender. “That’s it. I want to talk about what happened during Leona’s over blot”

Ruggie wanted to smack himself. God was he stupid. Not even once had he considered using ‘laugh with me on you’. Why? He wasnt sure himself. There were a few theories that popped through his head, but he had no time to entertain them as you were less than 2 meters away.

“Oh, real mature ruggie”

He let out the breath he was holding, the clatter of the lockers was heard as he straightened himself up. Rubbing the ‘dust’ from his knees he just looked at you. As he started to make his way towards you.

You couldn't read him. Did he have a face of relief, conflict, worry? You weren't sure. But when he passed you in your frozen state, all he said was:

“You really think I’d tell people? Really think that low of me huh” It was rhetorical.

By the time he was far away into the hallway, you were unfrozen. Stumbling a bit as you turned to him still walking. “Though my silence comes with a price!”

Ugh great. At this point you’d rather have him tell people

⊹ ︶︶︶⠀୨ what happens next? ୧⠀︶︶︶ ⊹

I wanna say he’d tease you but I mean… woman… No, he isn’t afraid of you! He knows you’re not going to be as rough or intense as the ladies back home, as you’re no beast-man, especially not a hyena beastman.

So there’s going to be a bit of distance between you 2. I mean, there already was to begin with, cause he never met you or talked to you before the spell drive tournament situation.

But after that, he’ll probably mess with you a bit. Not a lot like how he would with others, but a good enough amount to where you interact weekly. Like he’ll cut you in line with a cheeky smile, or he’ll pluck a particular sandwich out of your hand and hide among the masses as you (grim) yell out curses.

He will use your situation against you ngl. He would shamelessly dangle it over your face in exchange for something, mainly food.

But I know he wouldn't do anything too callous or too mean.

Though he does keep the promise of ‘silence coming with a price’ and usually that price is an extra pair of hands or food. So now you've got 3 mouths to feed. Great.

𝑩𝒐𝒏𝒖𝒔! I originally wrote this for Jack but I thought it was too ooc. Then I thought about Leona but then realized he would only do this in fanon.

Your back was slammed against a tree, Jack hovering over you as you struggled in his grip. His hand encased both of yours while his other gripped your hip, keeping you flat against the tree. His leg was bent awkwardly, pinning you against the tree at an angle that should make him fall, but he didn't. No matter how hard you tried, the leg that kept him braced didn’t budge. Not even an inch.

“Try to escape” Was all he said through your struggling and wiggling. Yet no matter how hard you tried pushing, shoving, kicking, or flailing away from him- nothing worked. You were stuck. Never once did he stop looking at you; through you as you grew more and more desperate to prove yourself.

But he was a wolf beastman, and you were a teenage girl.

And soon, as expected, your struggling slowly stopped, eyes downcast as you laid there, still, in his arms before he set you down.

Your hands rushed up over your chest as you struggled to understand the situation, to understand why he did that.

“I’m only a freshman” he spoke quietly “I don’t even have control of my magic yet, just think about what other guys would do if they found out. So please” You looked up at him, lashes heavy with locked in tears. His face was soft, gentle even which only confused your heart more.

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