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#the potential is there and it just never reached it))
slytherinslut0 · 1 day
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Mattheo Riddle with reader doing a striptease?
ok this one is fun 🤭 18+?
perhaps it’s late at night, perhaps you’ve been drinking with the boys and pansy, everyone equally as sloshed as the other. the lot of you start playing truth or dare, and inevitably you get hit with a dare to do a striptease.
now, you were given the option to keep your top or bottoms on, should you feel more comfortable that way, but with the liquor coursing through your system and your newfound motivation, you couldn’t really give two fucks.
you and mattheo had been in this tension filled back and forth for quite some time, everyone knows the two of you have been messing around, though the stubborn arse doesn’t seem to wanna’ put aside his goddamn pride and admit that he wants you, exclusively.
you knew this was your perfect chance.
accepting the dare you stand up, somehow managing to swallow your laughter as you lock eyes with mattheo, his brooding browns glued to you with a clear challenge as he’s thinking to himself there’s no goddamn way she’s going to actually do this. strip in front of all your friends? no way.
oh, mattheo. you foolish fuck.
you know damn well that mattheo is the possessive type, but strangely enough he isn’t protesting this. he’s just simply watching you. you know this is just as much a dare from him as it is from the group. a dare to test him. a dare to play with fire. to fuck around and find out.
unfortunately for you, you’ve never been one to back down from a dare.
you pull your bottom lip between your teeth, holding his stare and start by reaching behind your head to slowly let your hair out of your ponytail, allowing its length to sway as it falls and cascades around your face. you notice mattheo’s eye twitch, almost imperceptibly, before he begins adjusting his seated stance slightly, manspreading his legs just a little bit wider.
you choke back a giggle. though you know he noticed.
for a brief second you let your eyes traverse the room, glimpsing enzo and theo and blaise, all hawk eyes and parted lips, not wanting to miss a goddamn thing. you don’t feel too much about this as you know they’ve all seen you dozens of times in a bikini while swimming or tanning--underwear and bra really wasn’t much different. was it?
regathering your focus you shake off the thoughts of potential implications as your hands move to the base of your jumper, fingertips tracing the edge before slowly peeling it up your torso, the draft of the cool room igniting goosebumps on your skin. you pull it up further, spinning around to show them your backside as you tug it up and over your head, tossing it to the floor at your feet.
pansy whistles, giggling and urging you on as you sway your hips slightly to the faint hum of music playing in the background, undeniably lost in the fun of it all as the other boys cheer you on, too, clapping and howling in an absurd way to pump you up. at this point, you’re in damn near hysteria from laughing so hard.
collecting yourself, you tease the band of your leggings while bending at the hips, peering over your shoulder to catch a glimpse of mattheo’s expressions as you begin to slowly peel them down your thighs, your ass in clear view.
mattheo looks like a fucking trainwreck, his hair tousled like his hand had plowed through it, his knuckles pale from gripping his cup so hard you were almost certain it was about to shatter within his palm. his jaw was clenched, so tight it almost looked painful, his eyes the hypnotizing depth of a black hole. you couldn’t tell if he was enjoying this, or utterly fucking hating it.
and as though he could read your mind, it was but a mere few seconds later before he gave you the answer.
you got your leggings about half way down your thighs when he stood up abruptly, interrupting the show and standing behind you to block your ass from the view of the other guys. when they all started grumbling and asking him wtf he was doing, he’d simply tell them to shut up and pick their jaws off the floor before they catch flies.
he’d yank your leggings back up, his lips pressed to your ear as he’d growl. “you win, you little fucking brat.”
you’d shrug, pretending you have no damn idea what he’s on about, and he’d reply with a calm, “yeah whatever you say princess, now let’s go back to my dorm so you can do this again for me in private.”
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The Man 7
Warnings: non/dubcon, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.
My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.
Character: mob!Lloyd Hansen
Summary: a demanding customer complicates more than your work life.
As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️
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“Ow, ow, ow, ow, ow, ow,” you utter with each step, the pinch of Floyd’s-- Lloyd’s hand digging into your neck.
“Shut up,” he growls as he as good as drags you.
You walk on your toes, scurrying to keep up. You cling to his wrist to keep your balance as the witnesses turn their heads away. What the heck? What is going on? No one’s going to help you?
“Get in,” he opens a car door and push you so you nearly ding your head on the side.
You catch yourself on the metal and carefully duck down, only for him to shove on your head and slam the door. You compress yourself in the seat as he stomps around the hood. Jeez, that sort of anger isn’t good for you.
He drops into the driver’s side and hits the steering wheel, his anger brimming through flared nostrils. You watch him nervously, waiting for him to explode. It’s like you can see the fuse burning, getting shorter and shorter as he tries to calm himself.
“I’m done talking,” he snarls and sits back heavily. He pulls at his belt buckle as he lifts himself above the seat. “You’re going to use that mouth for something good. I don’t wanna hear another word.”
He pushes his fly open as the buckle tinks and you cringe as he shoves down the elastic of his sleek leopard print briefs. Wow, very 70s of him. He rolls the fabric down his thighs as his dick springs free and you put your hand over your lips, hiding a smile as you snort.
He lowers himself and snarls over at you, “are you laughing?”
“N-no. Well, yes, but I just think... they kinda look funny, don’t they?” You poke your finger up to mimic his hard length. “Boing.”
“What is wrong with you?” He sneers. “How many have you even seen?”
“You know, I’ve been on the internet. I’m a child of the digital age so... probably too many.”
“Jesus, shut the fuck up,” he grabs the back of your head and jerks you towards him, “look, sweet lips, do yourself a favour and stop resisting.”
“Um, favour?” You reach out to grab the steering wheel, fighting to stay away from his lap, “I... I got dry mouth. I can’t--”
“Just open up,” he grunts, shoving on you. He’s strong.
Your arm bends and you collapse onto him, headbutting his dick as you do. You shake your head as you raise it and he suppresses a whimper. He fists your hair and pulls you up, jarring your head back violently.
“Fuck off,” he grits out, “open your damn mouth. And no teeth.”
“Look, I really am not in that kinda mood--”
“I’m about to break your teeth, cupcake. Are you gonna keep arguing?”
You blink at him and weigh a life time of smoothies and broth. His eyes narrow and you gulp. You squeeze your lips tight and try to dip your chin down. He slackens his grip just enough for you to make eye contact with his tip.
Whew, okay, right, you’ve seen some things on The Hub. It can’t be that hard. Figuratively. Literally, it does look pretty hard.
You shudder and suck in a breath. Well, here goes nothing. This isn’t really how you saw your first-time but nothing’s really gone to plan, has it?
You lick your lips and open your mouth as you bring your hand around to grip him. Thick, you think. Looks and feels like it. But the skin, so smooth. You didn’t expect that. You face down the great dragon, throbbing up at you, you will vanquish your foe.
You lower yourself down and hover your lips above his swollen head. You stick your tongue off and flick it around his tip. He twitches and lets out a hiss. You try not to laugh. So sensitive. You press your lips around him and continue to swirl your tongue. You’re not super sure of what you’re doing but it feels right, even though the circumstance is very wrong.
You stretch your lips around him until your jaw aches. He’s gotta be big. Thinking about it, maybe thinking too much, he’s a lot like the men you see in your incognito searches. You’re no prude, you just haven’t found the right person. He’s definitely not the one but well... let’s not think about that.
You ease onto him, feeling him quiver as his breaths puff out slow and long. You take him deeper and deeper, pausing as he grazes the back of your throat. You inhale through your nostrils and try to rear back. He keeps a hold on you, urging you down.
Your throat strains around him as he forces his dick deeper. You nearly gag, your foot kicking the interior. You’re bent over the console, half-twisted, your shoulder bearing too much pressure for comfort. Your eyes water as you find yourself suffocated with his intrusion.
He holds you there until your quaking. He lets up and you pull off of him, coughing and hacking. He chuckles and releases your hair, petting your head.
“Go on.”
You close your eyes and tremble as you wipe your mouth with the back of your hand, the other still circled around him. You pump then put your lips around his tip. You flick your tongue around and around, taking him in gradually. You reach your limit then back up, dragging your hand in tandem with your mouth.
A saltiness spreads over your tongue and you press it along his base. He growls and his hand spreads across your crown. He leans back into the seat, extending his legs as far as they’ll go in the cramped space. You hear the leather of the steering wheel creak as he grips it tight as you pick up the pace. Hopefully if you go fast, it will be over soon.
“Slow-- sweet lips, hold up,” he rasps, “slow--” He yanks you off of him and hisses, slamming an open hand on the horn as he spasm and curses, “fuck! I said slow--” He lets go of you and contorts as he cradles his sack and squeezes his dick tight, a gush bursting from the tip, stringing down his knuckles and onto his pants. Those look expensive. “What the fuck? You went too fast.”
“I... I didn’t mean to. I just... I did my best,” you stick out your tongue and wipe it on your sleeve, “I never did that before so... my bad.”
He gapes at you then his eyes drift through the windshield. He shoots a passerby the finger as his little honk drew the attention of curious eyes. He growls and opens his hand, examining the sliminess across it.
“You made this mess,” he snarls, “better clean it up.”
Your brow creases and you shake your head, “you got kleenex?”
“With your goddamn mouth,” he barks and sits back. “Hurry up.”
You keep from looking out the window as humiliation seeps in. The realisation that a very private moment is on display makes you nauseous. You bend over his lap again, once more taking him in your hand.
“Good girl,” he purrs as your lips touch his skin, “gotta say, those hands are a lot quicker than that head.”
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thedensworld · 1 day
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Wish You Were Here | K.Mg
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Pairing: Mingyu x reader
Genre: fluff, angst, established relationship, short!
Summary: Sometimes, Mingyu was miles away from you and he couldn't hold you. He was okay, 'till you called him and and he heard you sobbed.
Warning: mention of someone died, funeral, describing family abandonment.
Mingyu's demeanor turned to stone as he answered your call. Normally, he anticipated your bright, cheerful tone, but this time, there was a heavy silence before he finally heard the sound of your sobs. Something inside him clenched at the unfamiliar sound – you never let him hear you cry.
"What's wrong?" he asked, his voice soft and careful as he sensed the fragility in your cries.
There was a moment of silence as you cleared your throat, trying to compose yourself. "My dad..." you began, and he felt a pang of dread as he realized what you were about to say, "just passed away."
Mingyu's heart sank further at your words, a wave of sorrow crashing over him as he struggled to process the news. Despite the distance between you, he yearned to offer you comfort, to somehow ease the pain you were feeling.
Taking a shaky breath, Mingyu felt his chest tighten as a realization dawned on him. He had braced himself for this moment, knowing it would eventually come, yet the reality of it still overwhelmed him. "Baby..." he murmured, his voice laced with both sadness and helplessness.
"I—I'm..." Mingyu stammered, his thoughts jumbled and emotions raw. "I'm so sorry..." It felt inadequate, but it was all he could manage to say in that moment.
Being out of the country when you called at 10 a.m. added another layer of guilt to Mingyu's turmoil. He silently thanked whatever force had compelled him to answer while he was sleeping, sparing him from the guilt of potentially missing your call during his waking hours.
Mingyu's heart clenched as he listened to your tearful voice through the phone, his immediate instinct to be by your side overpowering any other considerations. With a determined resolve, he reached for his iPad, fingers tapping anxiously as he searched for the quickest route home to you.
But just as he was about to confirm the flight, your words cut through the air, halting his movements. "You don't have to fly here," you said softly amid your sobs, your consideration for his obligations pulling at his heartstrings.
"I just want to let you know," you added, your voice barely above a whisper, and Mingyu hesitated, torn between his longing to comfort you and the practicalities of his life back home.
"No, I'm going to you," he insisted, refusing to let distance stand in the way of offering you his support during this time of need.
As Mingyu continued to scroll through plane ticket options, a pregnant pause filled the air, his mind racing with conflicting emotions. He felt the weight of your sorrow, the urgency to be there for you battling with the responsibilities pulling him in the opposite direction.
Finally, he made the decision, booking the earliest flight available. With his phone pressed to his ear, Mingyu began to pack, his movements hurried yet deliberate as he prepared to leave everything behind to be with you.
"Honestly, I wish you were here," you confessed, your words causing Mingyu to pause mid-step, a lump forming in his throat at the depth of your longing.
"I—I just finished the paperwork and stuff..." you continued, your voice trembling with exhaustion and grief, and Mingyu's heart ached knowing you were facing this alone.
"While others are grieving," you whispered, your words heavy with unspoken emotion, and Mingyu's resolve solidified. He knew he had to be there for you, to offer you solace and support in your time of need, no matter the cost.
Mingyu closed his eyes, feeling the weight of the situation pressing down on him as he sank onto the hotel bed. "You're allowed to grieve, baby," he murmured softly, his fingers gently massaging his temples in an attempt to ease the ache of his own heart.
He heard you clear your throat on the other end of the line, your voice thick with emotion as you spoke. "I know," you replied quietly, your words laden with exhaustion and sorrow. "That's why I called you. I need to shut my brain off for a sec."
Mingyu's heart clenched at the sound of your vulnerability, wishing he could reach through the phone and hold you close. But instead, he focused on the practicalities, knowing he needed to be strong for you.
"Where are the others?" he asked, concern evident in his voice as he thought of your siblings. Mingyu struggled to contain the anger rising within him at the thought of you bearing the brunt of the responsibilities, especially considering you were the youngest in the family.
"They're greeting all the guests," you replied, and Mingyu felt a surge of frustration mingled with empathy for your situation.
"How about you? Where are you right now?" he inquired gently, careful not to add to your burden with his questions.
There was a pause on the line before he heard you sigh heavily. "Toilet," you admitted, and Mingyu's heart twisted with sympathy, knowing that even in your grief, you were finding solace in the solitude of a bathroom, seeking a moment of respite from the overwhelming emotions that threatened to consume you.
Mingyu's movements were frantic as he packed his belongings, a sense of urgency driving him to prepare for his journey to you. "Babe, I'm going to the airport now," he spoke into the phone, his voice filled with determination. "Please stay beside your father. I'll be there in five hours."
After hastily explaining the situation to his manager and requesting understanding, Mingyu rushed to catch his flight. As he settled into his seat, exhaustion from the whirlwind of emotions washed over him, and he closed his eyes, seeking a moment of rest before landing.
Upon arrival, Mingyu wasted no time in contacting you to let you know he had arrived safely and was on his way. However, your response caught him off guard. You urged him to take his time, to grab a meal or change his clothes before coming to you.
But Mingyu couldn't bear the thought of delaying his arrival any longer. Ignoring your plea, he made his way to your father's room, his heart pounding in his chest as he approached.
There you were, sitting with your body slumped against the wall, the weight of grief evident in every line of your face.
"Kim Mingyu?" Your brother's voice cut through the somber atmosphere, and Mingyu turned to see him standing there, recognition dawning in his eyes. With a polite bow, Mingyu acknowledged him, his attention immediately drawn back to you.
"Y/n said you're on a business trip," your brother remarked, confusion evident in his tone.
"I came here as soon as possible," Mingyu explained quickly before making his way over to you, his sole focus on providing you with the support you needed.
He took in your presence by your father's side, the weight of grief etched into every line of your face. With a respectful bow, Mingyu paid his last respects to your father before turning to you, his hand finding yours and squeezing it gently, a silent reassurance of his presence.
"Have you had some meal?" Mingyu's voice was gentle as he addressed you, concern evident in his eyes as he took in your weary appearance.
You shook your head in response, and Mingyu's smile was warm as he reached out to rub your back, offering you comfort in the simplest of gestures. "Let's have some, shall we?" he suggested, gently guiding you towards a nearby table.
He seated you before fetching a meal for both of you, his eyes never leaving you as you mechanically picked up your chopsticks. Mingyu knew that the food would offer little solace in the face of your grief, but he was grateful that you didn't let your stomach suffer amidst the turmoil of emotions.
Mingyu was glad that none of your siblings seemed to be bothered by his presence. More than that, he was glad that no one bothered you while he was on your side. You seemed more relax and nothing that Mingyu could ask than that.
As you struggled to finish your meal, Mingyu gently guided you outside, away from the suffocating atmosphere of the funeral center. Though his stated intention was to give you some fresh air, you could sense his true motive – to offer you solace in his comforting embrace, allowing you to let down your guard and release the pent-up emotions swirling within you.
"He's resting now," Mingyu whispered softly as he rubbed your back, his voice a soothing balm to your wounded soul. You nodded in acknowledgment, finding a measure of comfort in his presence, his touch, his words.
"I'm sorry that I wasn't there when he left," Mingyu murmured, his voice laced with regret. But you shook your head, murmuring, "Don't be," understanding that his absence was beyond his control and that his love and support now were more than enough.
"I love you," Mingyu whispered, his words a heartfelt promise of unwavering devotion and support. And in that moment, as you stood in his embrace, you knew that no matter what challenges lay ahead, you would face them together, with Mingyu by your side.
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jinwoosungs · 3 days
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{ 157 }
headfirst for halos.
yandere!jinwoo sung x fem.reader
warnings + disclaimers: obsessive behavior; dark content; i do not condone this behavior in real life, but in fiction, anything goes.
notes: reading solo leveling and seeing how hard jinwoo goes to protect his family and those that he loves-
it’s not impossible for him to have some yandere tendencies. i’ll try to write this to the best of my abilities, even though this really isn’t my strong suit 。゚(TヮT)゚。 this will be written for the anon that wishes to see me write for yandere!jinwoo... so i hope this meets your expectations...
{ well, let’s go back to the middle of the day that starts it all | i can’t begin to let you know just what i’m feeling. }
there she is, the girl that stole my heart the moment i first laid eyes on her.
my breathing comes out as uneven gasps, and i was actively struggling to breathe at the mere sight of her. along with my labored breaths, my heart could be felt pumping quickly, racing as my palms began to sweat the more i looked at her-
an almost crazed expression paints my features, eyes never straying too far away from that lovely woman. from my viewpoint, i could see that she was simply enjoying her day with a book in hand, taking casual sips of her coffee while running her hands through her hair.
and oh, how i long to sit across from her! to simply bask in her radiance while listening to the gentle sweetness of her voice...
but not yet.
i cannot approach such a perfect goddess just yet.
i still have not reached my full potential.
so, i'll simply stand right here, hidden within the shadows with my hood pulled over my face. from this point onwards, i will never allow my goddess to leave my sights-
"wait for me, my love."
{ ... }
the day sung jinwoo had confessed his feelings for you was the day you had labeled as being the best in your life.
after your meeting with the association's chairman, jinwoo had waited for you all while donning an expensive, black suit. in his hands was a bouquet of red roses, signifying his true intentions as he gifted you the precious blooms with a single statement.
"i am deeply in love with you, please, tell me that you'll be mine."
you thought nothing of the sheer desperation heard in his voice, finding yourself becoming captivated by the mere sight of him. and truly, could anyone really blame you for being so starstruck at the sight of him?
here was this perfect specimen of a man, with features that could rival any idol, and a body that was sculpted to perfection thanks to the many battles he had faced. neat locks of ebony hair falls perfectly across his face, with his full lips tilted up in an unassuming smile (let's not forget that adorable blush, too!)
within seconds, you held the bouquet of roses close to your chest while accepting his confession.
and just a few moments later was when you found yourself immediately brought into jinwoo's embrace. a gasp escapes from your lips as it felt as though he were crushing you to his chest-
like he wanted to somehow meld your body together with his-
your slight cry of pain was what ultimately makes jinwoo let go of you, eyes glowing a startling purple hue while looking down at your arms to see the roses he had purchased for you ruined as the thorns managed to pierce through the skin of your arms.
you swore you could never forget the look of utter devastation seen within his eyes, his apologies being repeated over and over again before taking the broken bouquet and smashing it to the ground with his feet.
"no no no, this was supposed to be the perfect day! the roses were meant to convey my deep and passionate love for you, but it ended up hurting you- i need to get rid of it, need to get rid of anything that harms you-"
by the end of his panicked rants, you were the one that had to calm him down, promising that you could heal yourself and that such a minor injury was no problem at all. you could see the look of pure relief reflected in his gaze as he squeezes your body to his chest once more, embracing you while standing over a broken bouquet of roses.
despite how strange it was, you were truly staring at him through rose-colored lenses, thinking nothing of it.
now that you were together with him for roughly 6 months now, you began to notice tiny details pertaining to jinwoo and his behavior when it came to you.
for starters, you had only been dating for a month when he practically demanded that you move in with him, successfully convincing you to terminate your lease with your current apartment while seducing you with promises of financial stability and a large penthouse to share with him.
"sarang, i know that you're a capable healer, but your earnings are no match for mine! please, let me take care of you."
despite not even dating for a year, you moved in with him anyways, allowing jinwoo to further spoil you.
along with his constant presence, you realized one other detail-
now, jinwoo owned a journal of some sort, seeming to write in that thick notebook on a near daily basis.
during the times you had seen him before you began dating, jinwoo had never once kept a diary. he appeared calm, cool, and collected, with his status as korea's latest s-rank hunter putting him to nearly famous heights. due to his growing fame, you figured he had no time to do such a mundane task.
yet now, without fail, he would never cease writing so furiously within the journal, only slamming the pages shut and stopping when you would walk into the room. you had a sneaking suspicion he was writing about you, but each time you asked about it, he would simply harden his gaze and give you a scowl.
"with all due respect, this has nothing to do with you. am i not allowed the privacy to write down my own thoughts?"
his biting words nearly makes the tears stream down your face, your apologies coming out into broken syllables. upon realizing that he has hurt your feelings, jinwoo would push himself away from the table, leaving behind his journal before comforting you by taking you in his arms.
"i'm sorry, i'm so so so sorry, your monarch didn't mean to make you cry. forgive me, my love?"
being comforted by his warmth and blinded by the sheer love you still had for him, you merely nodded your head in response, accepting his kiss as the gesture erased all of your thoughts pertaining to his journal.
and that was how your days typically went with your boyfriend.
he would take you out on dates and spoil you with gifts-
each time you were scheduled to attend a raid, he would take over and finish each dungeon solely on his own without even giving you and your team a chance-
and when nightfall came (when jinwoo believed you had fallen asleep), he would continue to write (with a strange fervor) within the pages of his journal until the early hours of the morning.
it wasn't until now that you decided to do something about your growing curiosity.
jinwoo was currently away on what you could only deem as a 'business trip.' the american branch of the hunter's association had reached out to him, and he would be gone for roughly a week-
leaving you alone within the confines of the penthouse.
your eyes were staring blankly at the television screen, not really paying attention to the show that was currently being aired. instead, your heart was pounding with anxiety, trailing your eyes towards the bedroom.
within your shared master bedroom, you were aware of the desk jinwoo kept against the wall, being filled with various paperwork and checkbooks that kept track of his earnings as a hunter-
and settled inside the desk was a locked compartment that you were certain his journal was kept hidden. you always saw the key to the drawer somewhere close to his body as an extra precaution to make sure that you would never be able to read its contents while he was away.
but truly, you were nothing if you didn't have some tenacity.
clasped within your hands were two needles that were going to serve as your tools for picking the lock within jinwoo's desk (and you could only hope that whatever shadow soldier he had placed within your shadow wouldn't alert him.)
you knew of the risks that came with unlocking the drawer-
however, you could not stop yourself.
with a determined expression, you swiftly head towards your room, turning on the lights before marching towards jinwoo's desk. kneeling before it, you place the two, slender needles within the keyhole all while gently maneuvering it-
you bring the needles closer together within the keyhole-
then proceed to turn it around just a little bit more-
only to let out a surprised gasp upon hearing something click.
the two needles remain rooted in place when you managed to open the drawer, seeing jinwoo's diary settled within the deep confines of its space. as your hands lean down to grab it, the sudden memory of his ice cold gaze and voice dripping with fury stops you-
with all due respect, this has nothing to do with you.
your breathing comes out as labored, with your heart felt twisting just the tiniest bit in anxiety-
but sadly, your curiosity had won, taking over as you extracted the diary from the safety of the drawer before opening the cover to its first page-
making you regret it instantly.
for what lay before you was pure and utter darkness-
may 6, 16:41 she's mine. she's finally mine! the woman i have longed for- the woman who has saved me when i was a mere e-rank hunter accepted my flower and my love. now she is mine to hold. mine to love. mine to cherish for all eternity. my heart feel so happy, so free. today is truly the best day of my life. SHE'S FINALLY MINE MINE MINE MINE MINE MINE MINE MINE MINE MINE MINE MINE MINE MINE MINE MINE MINE MINE MINE MINE MINE MINE MINE MINE MINE MINE MINE MINE MINE MINE MINE MINE MINE MINE MINE MINE MINE....
june 7, 12:42 i asked my soulmate to move in with me today, yet felt ANNOYED at the slight hesitance in her gaze. she has no right to refuse me! here i am, spoiling her with everything she could possibly want and need, yet she still wants to live in a space AWAY FROM ME? unacceptable. i refuse to tolerate her defiance. if she loves me, she'll cut off her lease and be with me. only i can give her what she wants- ONLY I CAN GIVE HER WHAT SHE NEEDS. despite my anger that was felt mounting, i manage to calm down and speak to her with my normal tone, making sure that it was honey sweet while coaxing her, promising her that i will take care of her and provide her everything that she needs. and oh, i truly am so lucky! she agreed to move in with me by the end of the day. life cannot get any better than this.
june 9, 0250 i couldn't help myself- the moment she lay in my bed, i made love to her. i perfectly slotted myself between the softness of her thighs while basking in her warmth. i can feel myself getting harder at the memory. fuck, i need her. despite taking her for several hours, i can't get enough of her. i'll finish up this entry and place my hands between her slick sweetness- don't worry, i'll make sure she's awake and needy for me so that i can look back at this entry and smile at the memory. I WILL FOREVER MARK HER AS MINE I WILL FOREVER MARK HER AS MINE I WILL FOREVER MARK HER AS MINE I WILL FOREVER MARK HER AS MINE I WILL FOREVER MARK HER AS MINE I WILL FOREVER MARK HER AS MINE
august 18, 20:00 that damn hunter keeps bothering her again, shamelessly flirting with her while constantly begging her to heal him. i bet he wants her. i bet he has thoughts of fucking her. why else does he keep leading her hands toward his shoulder like that? and why are his eyes shining with lust for her like that? i'm going to have to teach him a lesson- after all, my love doesn't know any better, so there's no way i could ever punish her. it's my duty to protect her. to save her from all men that wish to use her- ah, he's here. i'll end my entry for now.
after reading those few entries, your head began to spin, recalling each of those days with perfect clarity. after those entries, jinwoo seemed to lose all coherent thoughts, spending the next hundred of pages detailing your every activity-
from how you slept-
to what you wore-
even going down to such minuscule details like what you had for your meals and what you were constantly doing marked by the hours-
and now, you had context for the sudden disappearance of the hunter you had healed all those months ago-
nausea was felt coursing through your veins as you shoved the journal away from you, running into the bathroom as you threw up the contents of your breakfast and lunch into the porcelain toilet. even when your stomach was emptied of its contents, you kept on dry heaving, trying to get rid of the sourness felt deep inside of you.
time passes seemingly in a sluggish manner, with you flushing the toilet before crawling out of the bathroom. when you tried to stand back to your full height, a wave of dizziness hits you-
but one thought still remains-
i need to get out of here!
those words were what ultimately pushes you forward, with your uneven breaths filling at the air as your feet pounded against the floors, about to reach the front door when a sudden shift was felt in the air.
"i knew that it was best for me to save my shadow exchange for moments like this."
a silent scream escapes from your parted lips when jinwoo suddenly appears before you. he simply holds your arms tightly within his hands, not even using his full strength when he manages to fully apprehend you.
tears stream down your face as you actively fought against him, but to no avail...
all you managed to do was further tire yourself out, slumping back down to the floors as jinwoo coos at you, using his full weight against you while bearing you down against the cold, hardwood floors.
"it's okay... it's okay... i'm not mad at you for reading my most private thoughts. in fact, i WANTED you to read them someday! that way, you will know the full extent of my pure love and devotion to you!"
your tears were trailing down your face in cascades now, the sobs wracking through your body with such visceral and potent fear that violent tremors began taking over your form from beneath him. yet still, jinwoo keep staring down at you with those glowing, violet gaze, never once looking away from you.
"you're mine..." he says your name in a bit of a drunken haze, "it doesn't matter how you feel about me now, because i'm never letting you go!"
crazed laughter echoes throughout the area, with jinwoo drowning out your sobs and cries for help by kissing your lips deeply-
in mere seconds, the rose-colored lens had finally shattered the moment you tasted something coppery and bitter from within his lips...
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a.n. - while re-reading solo leveling, the panel used as the preview of my story genuinely scared me, which was what further solidified mine and everyone else's belief in the yandere potential he had 😭
all stories are written by rei; reposts, translations, and plagiarism are not allowed.
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seenthisepisode · 1 day
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PUBLIC SERVICE ANNOUNCEMENT
with a heavy heart i know i won't be able to attend the purgatory 8 con next month. like, i bought the ticket last year, it was supposed to be my first con ever FINALLY but. due to various reasons i don't really want to explain i won't be able to go. SO. i have one ticket to sell :) i asked the organisers via facebook if i can sell and they said yes. on my ticket it says Standard Ticket (Section 5) if that means anything to anyone. i bought it for 177 euro and i'd like to sell it for 150 at least. so. if you want to attend the con — and practically the whole cast is gonna be there. and it's an european con so destiel might go canon again, who's to say. and the cw sniper is dead — then message me. i know the thing is sold out and maybe someone wants to go and i want to ask tumblr folk first before i go to the spn facebook groups aka the 9th circle of hell.
tl;dr I AM SELLING A TICKET FOR A SOLD OUT PURGATORY 8 CONVENTION 25-26 MAY 2024 IN DUSSELDORF signal boost will be appreciated :)
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bendycxmet · 2 days
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Pierced—Vash the Stampede
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Summary: How did Vash get that hoop in??
Word Count: ~1.2k
Pairing: gn!reader x Vash the Stampede
Content: fluff, a lil angsty, Vash deserves his sense of self ok
a/n: @aboveweirdest gave me this wonderful idea while we were analyzing this man to death! tyty was thinking about this when i got another helix piercing done recently so i whipped this up before bed
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In recent days, you’ve seen Vash eyeing you. At least, more than what is normal. It was unsettling everytime you felt his gaze on you whenever you tried passing the time by creating something out of scraps you found into jewelry, specifically earrings. 
For instance, he was doing it now, as your hands worked the small pliers expertly to transform a piece of gold wire into a hoop. You either usually pierce your own ears with your creations, or sell them in town for some extra cash you both could use for bullets or food. Vash wishes he could be as good as you on the artsy side, but you always remind him that he is good with his hands. No one can beat him in marksmanship.
“Like what you see there, gunman?” you tease, side eyeing him for a split second. Caught in the act, Vash blushes a lovely red that reaches the tip of his ears. You love getting a rise out of him.
“Do you wanna learn? Is that it? Because you’ve been a little too curious these past couple of days.”
“Mm.. ‘s not that. I just… How many piercings do you have?” 
The question comes out of nowhere for you. You think it’s obvious, since mostly all of them are on your ears. Doing mental math, you count what you have on your ears.
“Uh, around 11? I’m thinking of doing more, but we’ve been too busy lately.”
He simply nods, humming to himself as he visibly thinks through your answer. 
“Why do you pierce your ears?” You quirk your eyebrow at him. “Don’t mean that in an offensive way!” He quickly puts his hands up, offering a sign of peace. You laugh at his gestures. “I just been noticing lately that your usual customers are people with loads of piercings, and I never gave it much thought before to get one of my own, but I think…they look so cool on others. They seem so happy with them too, expressing themselves without even saying a word.”
Your hands still at his words, something dropping in your stomach and twisting at his solemn expression. Vash never revealed much about his past, and you never probed him further. Anytime anything connected to his past came up, you could clearly tell whatever happened had left its scars on him, physically and mentally. You respected his decision to close up those details, and reminded him that whenever, if ever, he was ready to share that load with you, you would be there.
You look back down at the gold hoop in your hands, an idea coming to mind. You quickly add the finishing touches, putting a little more effort into it as it was for someone special now. 
“Hey, what do you think of this?” You hold up the hoop to Vash’s eyes, catching the glimmer in his eyes at your recent creation, like that of a thief spotting expensive items through a window. Greed and envy swirling together.
“It’s beautiful! You always amaze me with how you turn a piece of trash into such a pretty object. That one’s gonna sell fast Mayfly!” You warm at his praise and nickname for you. His confidence and support for your skills potentially outweighed yours for how he handled his gun.
Yet, you can’t stand the fake smile he plasters on his face, masking the jealousy he feels for the future owner of the golden hoop.
“Think I’m gonna sell it for free. It’s for someone close to me.” Vash simply cocks his head to the side. You roll your eyes at his obliviousness. “How about letting me pierce your ear for you?”
The change in his demeanor is quick. He straightens his back, eyes shining brightly, nodding eagerly at you. “I’m in your hands!”
Grabbing a small threading needle from your kit, you order him to sit close to you on motel bed. Cleaning your hands and the needle, you search his face, looking for any signs of regret. 
“You sure about this? Do you know where you want it?”
He’s pensive for a moment, eyes looking past you. He hums, pointing at his left lobe. How perfect, you think, same side as his cute little mole. 
You fidget, rethinking piercing his ear. You’ve only ever pierced yourself, so now that you have someone else in front of you, you feel like a total amateur. 
“Hey. Get out of your head there. I know what you’re thinking.” Vash’s voice breaks through your brain fog. He wraps his hand around your raised arm, poised and ready to pierce him. He gently tightens his hold on your waist. “I trust you.” You feel your heart twinge at the soft vulnerability in his eyes.
“Ok, this will be a slight pinch. I know you’re used to pain-” you interject, noting his slightly raised eyebrow, silently telling you been there done that. “-but just follow my rules. Ok, breathe in for me.” You raise the needle to his ear. “And breathe out.” As you feel his breath ghost your arm, you push the needle as quickly as you can through his ear, quickly adding the hoop to his ear. 
You turn around to wash your hands. “And there you go! Your first piercing ever! Crazy, considering that you’re like 150- hey don’t touch-” you catch him as he’s going to finger his new piercing, staring straight at the mirror on the vanity opposite the bed. The warning dies in your throat at the sight of him nearly in tears.
“I…I love it,” he says in a warbled voice.
“Oh Vash, what’s wrong? Did I hurt you? I really tried to be careful. Always with you.” You sit beside him, leaning onto his shoulder, rubbing his back in comfort. He sniffs. 
“It’s not you. It’s just…this is the first time I feel like I’ve done something for myself. I feel like my own person. With just a hoop.” Wet tears trail down his cheeks. You press your fingers to his cheeks, wiping his tears. You know how he’s been burdened with his past, no doubt still feeling the shadow of his brother and the destruction that’s come from his actions. Perhaps this earring meant more than you could ever imagine, perhaps it finally binded him to the present, and to his own future that he can create. 
“You’ve always been Vash to me. Never your brother. Just you. Vash the Stampede. The most amazing gunman to ever walk into my life.” He turns to you, wrapping his arms around you and pressing his face into your neck.
“Thank you. Now, I feel like everyone else. Maybe they can see me as one of them. Not this humanoid disaster.” You nuzzle into him, hands returning to their rubbing against his back.
“You look nice by the way. It suits you really well. The gold complements your blue blue eyes,” you tease, hoping to get a chuckle out of him. 
He pecks your cheek, another thank you from him. He presses his face tighter to you, jolting suddenly. “Ow!”
“Yeahh, it’s gonna be a bit tender for a bit.” 
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masterlist
divider by saradika
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rottenpumpkin13 · 2 days
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Angst idea
Hojo finally has enough of Sephiroth acting too normal and “emotionally human” because of Genesis and Angeal, so he decides to drive a wedge between them. To do this, he films a lab session where he questions Sephiroth heavily about his friendship with Hollander’s brats. Sephiroth lies to Hojo and tells him that they mean nothing to him and that he is just using them to please PR because the public likes them together. He doesn’t know he is being filmed.
Hojo leaks the video and Genesis and Angeal see it when the Turks investigate. PR is outraged. Even the president is pissed that Sephiroth has caused such a ruckus for the public.
Sephiroth doesn’t know what to do.
To confess to them that he was lying would mean revealing the truth. That he was afraid of Hojo and his anger towards the man all along had been a way to mask his deeper anxiety. They would all know his greatest weakness. Perhaps it’s better to say nothing.
But maybe “Hollander’s brats” can see the hints from the video. The way Sephiroth tries to sit up perfectly straight to hide any shaking. The way his eyes dart down when Hojo raises his voice. The way he flinches slightly when Hojo moves closer to him. The way he’s paler than normal under the lab lights. How he sounds cold and empty, almost as if he’s disassociating. They’ve never seen him like this before.
And maybe they realize at last that their best friend has a very dark side to his life that he never speaks of.
WELP. There's the hurt! 😭 *slaps the comfort down on the counter through my tears*
- - - - - - - -
Sephiroth braced himself for the backlash that would inevitably follow the leaked video. He knew Angeal and Genesis would be furious, considering everything he had said about them, invalidating their friendship.
The day the video was leaked nearly killed him.
The weight of their potential anger consumed him, overshadowing even the relentless scrutiny from the media and the rest of the company. It all meant nothing to him.
All he could think about was their reaction. Genesis and Angeal. The only two people he cared about in the entire world. And he was about to lose them.
After enduring a day of meetings and interrogations, Sephiroth's anxiety peaked when his attempts to reach his friends went unanswered. Genesis had turned his phone off, and Angeal's went straight to voicemail. He didn't get the chance to see them that day due to the chaos that consumed his schedule after the video was leaked.
With a racing heart and trembling legs, he made his way to Angeal's apartment, desperate to hear anything from them. He'd even endure their shouting at him if it meant he could see them.
He knocked twice, meaning to knock a third, but the door opened alarmingly quickly.
Angeal and Genesis stood in the doorway , their faces stunned. Sephiroth was overcome with relief. They didn't seem angry or hurt, only concerned as they asked him if he was okay.
Collapsing into their arms, a wave of emotion washed over him, pulling his body down to the ground as tears streamed down his face.
They rushed to his side.
"Sephiroth, it's okay, we're not mad at you," Angeal's voice was gentle.
"We know," Genesis added, his expression softening as he met Sephiroth's tear-filled gaze. "Actually, we're not entirely sure what we know, but we're certain you didn't mean any of that BS."
Angeal rested his hand on Sephiroth's shoulder. "We noticed how uncomfortable you were on camera. You're not to blame for any of this, okay?"
Sephiroth's apologies came in broken whispers, barely audible through his sobs, and repeated over and over as he struggled to convey his regret and remorse.
"There's no need to apologize," Genesis reassured him as he rubbed circles on his back. "You haven't done anything wrong. It's okay."
Angeal and Genesis shared a glance before Angeal tried: "We won't pressure you to tell us what happened, but can you confirm that Hojo was behind this?"
A trembling nod from Sephiroth confirmed their suspicions.
"Hmm, I had a feeling," Genesis murmured, his gaze meeting Angeal's in silent flicker of rage.
Angeal took Sephiroth's hand, his grip firm and reassuring as he pulled him back up. "Come on. We can talk about this. We'll figure out our next steps together, got it?"
Sephiroth nodded, feeling relieved.
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homesickturner · 3 days
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Homesick - Ch. 1
plot : childhood best friends Gracie and John are separated when join joins the war. Both are dealing with their own problems…will they cope with such distance between them. Most importantly, will the friendship (or more than..) stand the test of the war?
Dara speaks : hi hi! I’m overjoyed to finally be releasing this first chapter 🥹 I just could not keep these two to myself anymore 🫶 pls comment if you enjoy…any constructive criticism is welcome also. My asks box is wide open for any and all thoughts you have after reading this chapter so please send them my way !! The idea for this series came to me while listening to my favorite song ever homesick by dua lipa…give it a listen if you have not it’s too good!
warning : will be historically inaccurate at times for the sake of storytelling. Mentions of anxiety.
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Gracie and John grew up together. Their parents often say that it was not often throughout their lives that one was seen without the other. Once they reached hugh school, things certainly changed although they still remained very close.
Gracie has been an exceptional student for all her young life and had future hopes of become a nurse. John and Gracie spoke often of their future plans and although there was a chance they may end up hours and hours from each other they knew they would be alright.
“So John,” Gracie spoke up, John sitting opposite her at the dinner table at her home. “I was thinking of doing some traveling before I head to Washington in the fall…where is it that you confirmed again?.”
“Gracie-.”
“Don’t worry though it’ll be way before college so we’ll have time to work and-.”
“I’m joining the air corps,” he blurted out, setting his knife and fork down.”
“You’re…what. John you’re going off to the war and you didn’t mention it.”
“No Gracie because I knew how worried you’d be-.”
“Damn right John.” She shot back, a hurt expression clouding her face. The girl was lost for words. “I’m coming with you-.”
“Like hell you are,” he scoffed. “Quit talking crap Gracie.”
“John! I was going to be a nurse anyway at least this way I’d be helping.” She pleaded.
“Gracie..you don’t want to see what some of the nurses do in the war,” John said softly. “You have so much going for you, go to college and have fun-.”
“While you’re getting shot down out of your fucking plane John!.” She shouted back at him, tears brimming in her eyes.
“Grace I’ll be ‘aright. I’m not letting you throw your future away for me…for this stupid war.” He insisted.
“John you’re my best friend. I can’t let you go out there.” She stood from the table and began pacing the small dining room. “If I do, I’d bet money that there’ll be a letter landing on my lap in Washington in a few months because you’ll-.”
“Gracie,” he yelled, strolling to where she was in front of him and laying both hands firmly on her shoulders. “Please…you’re breaking my heart. You gotta let me go.” He choked out, getting the slightest bit emotional seeing her eyes filled with tears.
Gracie felt like the life she’d planned had been ripped from beneath her. Some may say, she indeed had the world at her feet, everything was in her favor. Her family were wealthy, she had friends and she was headed to one of the top nursing programs in the country. Gracie never in a million years expected to hear that news from John. She was so crushed, so angry that this war was going to take away her favorite person from her and maybe never give him back. Gracie knew that boy better than she knew herself, so she knew that there was no changing his mind.
Although she was deeply upset, she knew John and had every belief he was doing this for the right reasons. Gracie knew that John had a big heart and truly just wanted to do what he could in such a horrific situation.
She wished she could be mature and think clearly about the situation. At the end of the day, Gracie was 18 years old and about to potentially loose her best friend to this war. So, she certainly was not thinking clearly.
As much as Gracie tried to persuade him, John’s decision was made. One week later he and Gracie stood at the Wisconsin harbor to say their goodbyes.
“Please don’t do this,” she whispered quietly into this ear, both her arms wrapped around his neck. “I can’t loose you Johnny…you’re my other half.”
Gracie couldn’t believe John was finally leaving her. She wasn’t sure she could live without him. Unfortunately for her, she was about to find out.
“It’ll be alright Gracie, I promise you. Just trust me alright?,” he muttered to her softly, he hands rubbed her back slowly.
John knew no matter what he told her, she’d worry. He knew that they were two halves of the same coin, and they balanced each other out perfectly. John brought out her wild side and Gracie kept John’s feet on the ground when he got overexcited. They certainly brought out the best in each other.
He might have been going off to war, but the only thing he was worried about was how Gracie would cope when he was gone. She’d always been an anxious girl, and it has only worsened in her late teens. In recent years, her friends and family realized that it was only John who seemed to truly help her. They would watch the nerves and worry melt off her face and her body relax when John and Gracie were in company togther. When she was with him, it was as if all the voices in her head were quieted and she felt herself again. John could only hope a constant stream of encouraging letters would keep his Grace happy.
As they broke apart John kept his hands on her shoulders. The two kept their eyes locked for a few moments, the words that were not said danced in the air between them. The moment neither of them ever thought would come had finally arrived.
Gracie watched as John turned and slowly began to walk away from her, and into the unknown. Right before boarding the boat, he turned to her once more as she called out to him.
“John?,” she asked. “Yeah Gracie?,” he called back, a small smile forming on this lips. “
“Please take care of yourself Johnny….and I’ll be waiting for my letters.” John could see her eyes lighting up as she shouted out to him.
“I will Grace, I promise I will. You’ll have plenty of letters don’t you worry.”
Gracie watched as her best friend boarded the boat. Moments later he appeared on the top deck, finding himself a spot next to the railing and stood waving to Gracie. A smile graced her lips as she watched him waving to her, and she would laugh when every so often he would do a salute. John noticed these laughs, and did them twice as much when he noticed she enjoyed them.
Gracie’s heart broke as she watched the boat sail away slowly. She stood and waved the John until she couldn’t see him anymore. Once the boat had sailed far enough, she let some tears finally fall down her cheeks.
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misc-obeyme · 3 days
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for the drabble thing kinda 👉👈 (mostly be rambling per usual but could be an idea). I've been listening to music non stop at work and favorite record by fall out boy came on today
and there's a lyric that goes "and I confessed, confessed to you riding shotgun, underneath purple skies" and it screams mammon and mc to me. ALSO the rest of the song makes it sound like past tense/lost love/one that got away...angst potential too. Like reminiscing? Mc moved on but he never did.
I just like thinking about different ways he may confess, and if he'd just blurt it out without thinking? Or maybe he's hyped himself up, he's driving mc up to a hilltop to stargaze, he's got it all planned - and something mc does just makes him blurt it out
if it was something silly like turning on the A/C before he could finish asking them to, because MC just knows him that well, that would be hilarious
Mammon: hey uh, can you-
mc, already turning the dial: i got you
Mammon: i am in love with you.
- ✨ anon
also, partially related but Flu Game by the same band reminds me so much of nightbringer!mc and I could go on forever about it
Yes this feels very Mammon to me... blurting it out before he means to lol! I do like the angst of MC moving on, but he never did, too! That's some good potential right there.
BUT I did a drabble based on the rest of the idea, that he's taking MC to a hilltop to confess but doesn't quite make it lol.
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Mammon knows he has to tell you. It's been stewing inside him for a while, brought to his attention every time you meet his eyes, every time you say his name, every time you touch him or hug him or do something before he even asks. He's nervous to say it, but he won't risk losing you because he was too afraid.
He has it all planned out. What better way than to take you for a drive? Up onto the highest hilltop in the Devildom. Thinking about it makes his pulse race. He's on high alert all day, not able to focus on anything except the moment when those words pass his lips.
Mammon rehearses what he'll say. He thought about getting poetic, but in the end he decides it's better to just be straightforward. To be honest, to be true, to tell you exactly what he needs you to know, so there is no possibility of miscommunication. He chants it in his head all day. I'm in love with you, I'm in love with you, I'm in love with you.
You settle into the passenger seat of his Demonio like you belong there, riding shotgun beside him. He wants to say it right then, before he's even started the car.
I'm in love with you.
Mammon holds it in as you click in your seat belt and smile at him before turning on the music. It's a playlist you made together of all the songs you both love most. As you start singing along to the chorus, he wants to say it again.
I'm in love with you.
Mammon's eyes are on the road, but you are all encompassing. Despite this, he doesn't let his attention wander from the task of driving. He cares too much about you to be reckless.
He hasn't said much because he doesn't trust himself to speak. The road gets tricky as he starts up the winding cliff side to get to the highest hilltop. He can't look away from it, but he's sweating. He wipes quickly at his forehead.
"Hey, MC, can ya-"
"I got you," you say, already turning the dial.
His heart skips. And the words he's been repeating in his mind all day come bursting out. "I'm in love with you."
For a moment, the only sound is a soft song that has begun to play. Mammon's mind is buzzing, full of static at the shock of what he's just done, what he's said. He didn't even make it up to the hilltop.
"Er- I mean-" he starts to say, but it's too late.
He sees you reaching toward him in his periphery. He takes your outstretched hand without even thinking about it.
"I love you, too," you say, simply.
Mammon holds your hand like it's the only thing keeping him alive as he finally makes it to his destination. He stops the car and turns to you, taking in the way your eyes are shining brighter than all the stars and city lights streaming in through the windshield. He leans over to kiss you and the current between you is like lightning, brighter and more intense than any other light could hope to be. Wild, unpredictable, full of passion - just like him.
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masterlist | Thank you for reading!
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tuituipupu · 3 days
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TW: weight, body image discussed under cut.
i don’t normally like to dwell on stupid comments people make (likely for clout) but i think for me it’s the potential seriousness of the situation and the consequences behind the words if this reaches k.
first off i never directly commented on the whole ccc vs r1m t1m song bc it was inane discourse - to me he clearly seemed like a fan of k. fine. the genres were still entirely different and they were completely different songs with some similar costume and staging elements. we move.
but this recent video that has surfaced just came across as so wannabe. i can understand being a fan of some one, and name dropping now and again is fine, but how naïve can you really be to make a weight comparison to some one you supposedly admire?
how can you not understand how even if you didn’t necessarily mean harm (though it left a very sour taste in my mouth personally,) that this could trigger the subject in question or create new body image issues that might not have existed there before? not to mention, triggering any one that could come across the video.
people make mistakes, but this is my two cents. it has just left me very uncomfortable. it’s ok to joke about your own weight, but you can’t bring comparisons and outside sources into your own joke when they aren’t in on it. it’s just plain common sense.
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cheynovak · 18 hours
Text
Sugar
Soldier boy x F/ reader  (Y/N)  
Warnings: 18+, cursing, smut, unprotected sex, age difference, oral sex, ...
Side note: English isn’t my first language.    
*Does not follow The Boys storyline * 
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-- 
Y/N is a college student who pays her apartment, bills and school tuition with the money she makes as ‘sugar baby’ for Soldier boy. What started as just being a companion on lonely moments became quickly more physical.  
 
Ben just came home from a rough day, not in the mood for her. But she finds a way to ease him. 
-- 
In the dimly lit and luxurious loft nestled amidst the towering skyscrapers of New York, waits Y/N dressed in exquisite lingerie, chosen by him. The first time he had bought her lingerie or expensive parfum she had hated it.  
Like she wasn’t good enough for him the way she was. But then again, this adventure started out as ‘companionship’ getting some money for having dinner with him and listening to his fucked-up stories.  
But that soon turned around into something that looked more like prostitution. Not the quick and cheap fuck, kind of thing. No, she did get paid very well plus the extra gifts she got were a bonus.  
Y/N reclined on the velvet couch, her silhouette illuminated by the flickering flames of scented candles that cast a warm, intimate glow throughout the room. Her outfit, a delicate ensemble of lace and silk, clung to her curves in all the right places, a tantalizing promise of the evening's potential. 
Her mind drifted back to the night when everything changed, when Ben, as he was known to her then, had initiated their first intimate encounter.  
It had been a seemingly ordinary evening, with dinner at a high-end restaurant, where Ben had the best table. Followed by a stroll through the city streets. The conversation had flowed effortlessly, laughter punctuating the air as he shared stories. 
As the night wore on, he had asked her inside for another drink, and the last dregs of wine lingered in their glasses, Ben had leaned in, his touch igniting a fire within her that she hadn't known existed.  
She remembered the sensation of his hands tracing the contours of her body, the heat of his breath against her skin, how his lips claimed hers, it still sends shivers down her spine when she thinks of it.  
Caught off guard by his sudden advances, Y/N had frozen. And then, just as quickly as it had begun, it was over. Ben had withdrawn “Why so tense?” he had asked. 
But without being able to form a sentence she left, without her money for the night. The next day he had called her for meeting up, but she ignored his calls for over a week.  
The sudden creak of the loft door snapped her back to reality. Her heart skipped a beat as she watched Ben stride in, dressed in his iconic green superhero outfit, the weight of his presence filling the room. 
But there was something different about him tonight. A palpable tension hung heavy in the air. His brow furrowed, jaw set in a tight line, he seemed lost in a cloud of discontent. 
Y/N's stomach churned with a mixture of anticipation and apprehension as she met his gaze, unsure of what to expect. Before she could utter a word, Ben's voice cut through the silence, sharp and curt. 
"I don’t need you tonight. You can go," he muttered, his tone laced with a bitterness she had never heard before. "There's money on the table." The words hit her like a punch to the gut, a stark reminder of the transactional nature of their relationship. 
Y/N rose from the lounge, her steps slow and deliberate as she approached Ben, who stood with his back turned, seemingly lost in his own thoughts. For a moment, she hesitated, its easy money, but then again, after these months she kind of bonded with this brute.  
Unsure of how to proceed, but then she steeled herself and reached out, her hands finding their way to his tense shoulders. As her fingers began to work their magic, kneading away the knots of tension that had taken root within him. 
Ben stiffened at her touch, a fleeting flicker of surprise crossing his features. Yet, he made no move to pull away, allowing her to continue. "Are you sure?" she whispered, her voice barely above a murmur as she leaned in close, her breath tickling the nape of his neck.  
"You seem... tense tonight." She said in between kisses on his neck and shoulder, her hands moved to his stomach and slowly moved down, but he held her wrist in one hand.  “I’m not in the mood Y/N.” he bit.  
Y/N nodded in understanding, her fingers continuing their soothing dance back to his shoulder. "That's okay," she reassured him, her voice soft and reassuring. "You don't have to pretend with me." 
Her hands still kneaded his back.  
“I have an idea. Why don’t you lay down on the bed and let me give you a good massage. If you still want me to leave I will.” He looked at her over his shoulder and said with a sigh. “Fine.”  
"Relax," she whispered, her voice a soothing melody amidst the silence of the loft. "You don't have to do anything. Just let me take care of you." Those words brought a grin on his face. 
As Ben settled onto the end of the bed, Y/N knelt before him, her hands moving with practiced precision as she began to undo the buttons of his suit jacket. With each flick of her wrist, she revealed swaths of toned muscle beneath the fabric, the contours of his body a testament to the strength that lay within. 
With each button undone, she uncovered more of his skin, the warmth of his body radiating beneath her touch. With a soft exhale, Ben allowed himself to relax into her ministrations, the tension in his shoulders beginning to ebb away. 
And as she finally freed him from the confines of his clothing, he closed his eyes, surrendering himself to the blissful sensation of her hands against his skin. “Turn around.” she whispered.  
She kneaded the muscles of his shoulders and neck with just the right amount of pressure, coaxing them to relinquish their tight grip. Beneath her touch, Ben felt himself drifting, his mind unspooling from the worries and responsibilities that had weighed him down. 
Her hands so soft and yet every touch of her makes him wanting more.  
As Ben's eyes fluttered open, “Where did you learn to do this doll?” he looked over his shoulder. Only to find himself momentarily speechless at the sight that greeted him. There she sat, exquisite lingerie that left little to the imagination. 
How did he miss that when he walked inside?  
For a moment, time seemed to stand still as Ben's eyes roamed over her, taking in every curve and contour with a hunger that betrayed his desires. And in that fleeting moment, Y/N saw the raw longing reflected in his gaze.  
He turned back around, sitting against the wall.  
Y/N leaned in close, her fingers deftly undoing Ben's pants with a boldness that took him by surprise. With each movement, he felt his breath catch in his throat, his body tensing beneath her touch. 
 
Revealing the evidence of his desire in all its glory. As she met his gaze once more, a silent understanding passed between them. As Ben's hand moved to the back of her head.  
With a silent nod, Y/N obeys, her fingers trailing lightly along his length as she leaned in closer, her lips parting to take him into her mouth. She began to fulfil his demand. 
Y/N heard Ben's moans and groans, the sound brings shivers all over her body. Encouraged by his response, she swirled her tongue around him, teasing and tantalizing with every flick and caress, gliding along his length. 
She changed her pace, alternating between slow, deliberate strokes and quick, eager movements, each one designed to drive him crazy. With each downward thrust, she took him deeper, her throat accommodating his girth. 
She hollowed her cheeks, applying just the right amount of suction to elicit a throaty groan from him, her own arousal mounting with each breathless sound he made. 
And as she continued her relentless assault, she felt him growing more desperate, his hips bucking involuntarily as he surrendered himself to the overwhelming pleasure. 
With each passing moment, she could feel him nearing the edge. As Ben felt the intense pleasure coursing through him, his words spilled. He growled, his voice thick with desire.  
"You're so desperate for it, aren't you?" Ben's voice was out of breath. "You could have left making a lot of money for nothing, but here you are... on your knees, sucking my cock." 
Y/N's pulse quickened at his words, her arousal mounting with each passing moment. His dominance over her fuelled a primal hunger within her. "Yes," she whimpered, her voice barely a whisper as she surrendered herself to him completely. " I wanted to feel you in my mouth, to taste you.” 
Ben's grip on her hair tightened, pulling her closer to him. "You're mine, aren't you?" Ben's voice was a low growl, his eyes dark with lust as he held Y/N's gaze captive. "Say it. Tell me you belong to me." 
"Yes," she gasped, her voice barely above a whisper. "I'm yours, Ben. All yours." 
A wicked grin spread across Ben's lips, a predator basking in the sweet surrender of his prey. "That's right," he purred, his words dripping with satisfaction. 
"You're such a filthy little slut." Ben's voice dripped with dominance, his eyes smouldering with a primal intensity as he looked down at Y/N. "You're going to take it all, aren't you?"  
Ben's voice was commanding, his gaze locked on Y/N with an intensity that left no room for hesitation. "You're going to swallow every last drop when I come, like the obedient little slut you are." 
Y/N's breath caught in her throat at his words, arousal forming between her legs. With a silent nod, she braced herself for what was to come, determined to prove her obedience to him.  
With a primal groan of pleasure, he surrendered himself to the overwhelming sensation, his release flooding her mouth. The taste of him was intoxicating, a heady blend of salt and musk.  
As the last drop slipped down her throat, she felt a sense of fulfilment wash over her, a sense of satisfaction in knowing that she had pleased him, that she had surrendered herself completely to his desires. 
Ben's fingers threaded through Y/N's hair, his touch gentle and reassuring as he murmured a praise. "You're such a good girl," he whispered.  
"So obedient, so eager to please. I knew you were a good choice." 
Ben pulled her onto his lap, his fingers deftly worked at the clasp of Y/N's bra, she felt a rush of anticipation coursing through her veins, her heart quickening with excitement.  
With a soft click, the bra fell away, leaving her exposed to his hungry gaze. 
A hunger burning in his eyes, Ben leaned in closer, his lips trailing a path of fire along the curves of her breasts. He kissed and licked, his movements slow and deliberate as he explored every inch of her soft flesh. 
And as Ben's tongue found its way to her sensitive nipples, swirling and sucking with a fervour that left her gasping for breath, Y/N felt a surge of arousal coursing through her.  
As Y/N's moans of pleasure filled the air while her core grinded over his hips.  
Ben couldn't help but chuckle softly, a wicked grin playing on his lips as he revelled in the intoxicating sound. With each desperate whimper that escaped her lips, he felt a surge of satisfaction wash over him, knowing that he held her pleasure in the palm of his hand. 
Ben's teasing came to an abrupt halt. With a firm grip, he held her still, denying her the release she so desperately craved. His voice was a husky murmur against her ear as he whispered his final decree. 
"Goodnight, doll," he teased, his words dripping with playful mockery. Y/N's eyes widened in disbelief at his sudden change in demeanour, a surge of frustration coursing through her as she realized he was withholding the pleasure she so desperately sought. 
“W-what?” she looked at him while he pushed her of him. “Goodnight.” he repeated turning the lights off.  
As the minutes stretched into sleepless hours, Y/N lay beside Ben, her mind swirling with a tempest of desire and frustration. With a sigh of resignation, she slipped out of bed, careful not to disturb him as she made her way to the bathroom. Closing the door behind her, she leaned against the cool tile, her body thrumming with unspent arousal. 
With trembling fingers, she traced delicate patterns across her skin, teasing herself with feather-light touches that sent shivers of pleasure coursing through her. She closed her eyes, losing herself in the sensation as she sought out the release that had eluded her for so long. 
Her breath hitched as she brushed against her most sensitive spots, her fingers dancing with a rhythm all their own as she brought herself closer and closer to the brink of ecstasy. 
Y/N's heart skipped a beat at the sound of Ben's voice, “The fuck do you think you’re doing?” he busted through the door. "I... I'm sorry," she stammered, her voice trembling with a mixture of embarrassment and shame. "I just... I needed..." 
But before she could finish her sentence, Ben's voice cut through the silence once more, his tone tinged with a mixture of annoyance and amusement. 
"If I wanted you to come, I would have let you come," he declared.  
His grin appeared “Show me how wet you are.” Y/N's cheeks flushed with a mixture of embarrassment and arousal at Ben's bold request. With a silent nod, she slowly parted her legs, revealing the glistening evidence of her arousal to him. 
Her breath caught in her throat as Ben's gaze lingered on her, his eyes dark with desire as he took in the sight before him. With a soft groan, he reached out, his fingers tracing a path along her inner thigh as he drew closer, his touch sending shivers of pleasure coursing through her. 
"God, you're so fucking wet," he murmured, his voice thick with desire. “Wider doll.” he said giving her thigh a smack. Y/N's pulse quickened at his words, her body responding instinctively to his commanding tone. 
And as Ben leaned in closer, his fingers delved deeper inside her, Y/N's moans of pleasure filled the air. With each thrust of his hand, she felt herself spiralling closer and closer to the edge, her body trembling with the force of her impending release. 
"That's it, baby," he murmured, his voice a husky whisper against her skin. "You like that, don't you? You like it when I make you feel so good." She nodded her nails dug into his arm. 
"Fuck look at you. You're practically dripping.” "I need you," she gasped, her voice a breathless whisper. "I need you to make me come. Please, Ben, I can't take it anymore." 
As Ben pulled Y/N up, positioning her over the sink, a surge of anticipation rippled through her body, her breath catching in her throat as she braced herself for what to come. With a primal urgency, he pressed himself against her, his hard length throbbing with desire as he guided himself inside her from behind. 
With a firm grip on her hips, Ben began to move, setting a rhythm that sent waves of pleasure crashing over her. As he pounded into her with a primal fervour, she found herself unable to look away from the reflection staring back at her in the mirror. 
As Y/N's moans filled the bathroom, Ben's desire surged "Fuck, yes," Ben groaned, his voice a husky murmur as he surrendered himself to the overwhelming sensation. "That's it, baby. Moan for me. Let me hear how much you want it." 
Y/N's moans grew louder, more desperate.  
Please," she begged, her voice a breathless whisper. "Don't stop. I’m close... I need to come. Please, Ben, I need it." Ben's grip on her hips tightened, his own desire reaching a fever pitch as he felt her trembling beneath him. With a primal growl, he redoubled his efforts, driving her closer and closer to the brink with each thrust. 
And then, with a cry of ecstasy, she tumbled over the edge, her body convulsing with the force of her release. As Ben reached the peak of his own ecstasy, he released himself inside Y/N, filling her with warmth and intensity that sent shivers of pleasure coursing through her body.  
As Ben pulled Y/N up from the sink, a trickle of their combined release dripped down her legs. "Listen next time," he demanded, his voice firm but tinged with a hint of playfulness. "Or I won't let you come for a whole month." 
With a silent nod, she acquiesced to his command, knowing that, in this game of passion and power, he held all the cards. With a gentle command, Ben instructed Y/N to clean up and join him in bed. As he headed towards the bedroom, he left her to tend to herself.  
A soft sigh, she cleaned herself up, the cool water of the bathroom soothing against her skin as she washed away the evidence. She walked toward the bed hearing Ben’s snores.  
With a soft smile, she slipped beneath the covers, nestling herself against his warm, familiar form. She felt his arm instinctively wrap around her, pulling her close in his sleep. His touch was warm and reassuring, a silent reminder of the deep connection that existed between them. 
With a contented sigh, she nestled against him, her body moulding perfectly with him as they lay intertwined in the darkness. The rhythmic rise and fall of his chest against her face was a soothing lullaby.  
--
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@yvonneeeee @suckitands33 @mostlymarvelgirl
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swaps55 · 2 days
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I have never heard of an epithet before! What does it mean?
This is a great question! You have probably seen many of them, and just not heard them referred to as epithets.
An epithet is more or less a descriptive word or phrase that stands in the place of a name or a pronoun, such as, “the taller man,” or “the brown-haired woman.” In my experience, fanfic writers in particular tend to latch onto them, especially when trying to create variety in scenes with two characters who share the same pronouns.
I’ll put my thoughts on them under the cut, because I have Opinions on epithets, but I am not An Authority. I’m not your mom. I’m not here to tell you what to do or how to write, and I’m not here to ruin your fun, but we all have the hills we’ll die on and this one is mine. If you are a fan of epithets, just give this post an eyeroll or the finger and scroll on. If you want to know more about epithets and why I think writers can and should avoid them, read on!
Let me get this out of my system: I loathe epithets. Do whatever you want with your oxford comma, but take your epithets out back and shoot them.
Okay, now that’s out of the way, I’ll be a little more constructive about the purpose epithets serve and why I think they are so frequently used poorly.
In my experience, they’re often used as a tool to avoid pronoun confusion, but it’s an inelegant tool that can become a crutch. You have two characters of the same gender in a scene, you have already used their names in a sentence, but the pronoun antecedent is unclear unless you name the character again. You don’t want to do that because it feels repetitive, so you pick out a physical quality and use that instead. Problem solved! Except instead of solve the problem, you’ve potentially introduced new ones.
Nuance is important, and to talk tools we should be using the same toolbox, so for the sake of this argument I’m going to assume we’re talking about 3rd person limited POV, because that’s what I generally see, read, and write the most of.
Chances are very high that the descriptor you chose for your epithet derived from you the writer’s perception of the character being described and not the POV character. This is important, because if you are writing in 3rd person limited, the way you describe other people is how the POV character sees the person being described.  
Now tell me. Have you ever thought of a close friend, a lover, or someone whose name you know as, “the taller woman,” or “the dark-haired man?” Have you ever thought about YOURSELF in these terms? Probably not. I have never looked at my Real Life Romance Option and thought of him as “the brown-eyed man” or “the taller man.” I’ve also quite frankly never consciously thought of him as “my lover.” Is he all of those things? Yes. But from my POV, those are never descriptors I would use for him. Once you know a person’s name, they tend to become Their Name and not ‘Random Characteristic” in your mental picture of them.
So when you default to Random Characteristic, it’s usually the writer talking, not the character. And chances are high that the characteristic you choose to represent is not something that is important to the POV character or the scene in that moment. Therefore, is it significant enough to the reader that it clearly identifies the character, or does the reader now have to stop and think, ‘wait, which one is taller?’ So instead of eliminate confusion, you may have actually introduced more of it.
And even if it is an important detail, stating it as a fact is generally a lot less effective than making it part of the character work being done in the scene. For example:
“Can you help me reach this?” Jed asks the taller man. Leo stops chopping vegetables to oblige, and snags the wine glass the shorter man couldn’t reach off the shelf.
Vs.
Jed sighs as he makes another futile swipe with his fingers and barely grazes the bottom of the shelf. He looks over at Leo, blissfully chopping vegetables in a world where stepstools are for other people. “Can you help me reach this?” Leo sets the knife down and looms behind him, effortlessly snagging the wine glass and handing it to Jed with a grin.   
Hopefully, the second example feels more impactful than the first, because the height difference became part of the scene, and not just a descriptor cosplaying as a pronoun.
Epithets become even more distracting when they become part of a prose style rather than just a means to avoid pronoun confusion or name repetition. I see a lot of writers make the stylistic choice to have a POV character refer to themselves as an epithet right alongside the epithets being thrown around for other characters, and there are so many crammed into a paragraph or two I can’t figure out who is doing what.
At best, epithets are distracting. At their worst, they’re actively confusing when their purpose is to do the opposite.
“But Swaps, if I don’t use an epithet, how do I avoid pronoun confusion without wanting to throw myself out a window?”
This is a problem every writer contends with, whether you’re writing same gender smut, combat, or just have two people of the same gender doing things in a scene together. And unfortunately, this is one of those ways in which writing is hard. When you have some pronoun confusion in a sentence you can’t wriggle your way out of, the answer is probably to try a different sentence. Break the sentence up. Structure it differently. Finding the better sentence is part of becoming a better writer. 
If repetition is what you’re concerned about, know that just saying a character’s name and using their pronoun is okay. It’s like ‘said.’ ‘Said’ isn’t a trendy word that goes in and out of style. It’s a building block word that blends into the background. Can you get fancier than ‘said?’ Sure! But do it with purpose. Don’t be afraid to use a character’s name. It’s their name. It’s what you’re supposed to call them. Why are we fighting so hard to respect people’s names and pronouns if all we’re going to do is replace them with epithets? (Kidding. Mostly.) And if you’re using their name so much it’s interfering with readability…it’s probably time to revisit a few of those sentences and figure out what the better sentence is.
When can you use an epithet?
I joke that there are no exceptions to my There Are No Good Epithets stance, but there are. Sort of. Because rules are made to be broken, though I do believe you should understand why the rule exists before you break it, and you should break it with purpose.
Here’s the easy one.  
Epithets are useful when the POV character doesn’t know a character’s name. Now you have to use something else! And here’s the great thing about that: the epithet is now a vehicle for characterization. What about this stranger stands out enough to get the POV character’s attention? Do they notice a physical characteristic? Clothes? Attitude? What does the thing they notice say about the POV character and the character being observed?
For instance, my POV character is eavesdropping on a conversation between two people in a restaurant. You could grab the low hanging fruit and describe them as, “the brunet woman” and the “older man.” Or you could make your scene work harder. “The man with the punchable face,” or “the woman who makes eye rolling an art form.” Or how about, “the woman wearing fake pearls,” shorthanded to Fake Pearls Woman, and “the man with the name-brand suit that’s seen better days,” shorthanded to Shabby Suit. Now you’ve said something about the characters that place them in a more useful context than their hair color – you’ve said something about them that helps inform the scene, and how your POV character observes the world around them.    
Are there other instances where you can effectively use an epithet? Yes, if you are using them like this: with narrative purpose. And in those cases, is it really just an epithet anymore? It is in that yes, it is a descriptor taking the place of a name or pronoun, but it’s doing a lot more heavy lifting now. Maybe you have a character who chronically can’t remember or can’t be assed to remember people’s names. The epithet is now a means of characterization. Maybe you have a Jekyll and Hyde style character, in which a descriptor of those different personas becomes a means of setting a scene or crafting their relationship with the POV character. These descriptors are narrative vehicles being used with intention. “The other man,” is rarely a tool being used with any real intention. If there is an instance of it, I have never seen it.
Now, if reading this makes you second guess your own work, or to feel like you write wrong, or if the thought of going to painstaking lengths to rewire sentences you would typically use an epithet in gives you hives, there’s an easy solution: forget about this post.
Because fanfic is supposed to be fun. It’s your hobby. You are not getting paid for it. You don’t have to use a specific writing style, or meet anyone else’s expectations. That’s part of what makes fanfic such a beautiful thing. You can do whatever makes you happy. Not me, not anyone else. If you fucking love using epithets, use them. If you think I am made of bullshit, give this post the finger like I initially suggested and write five epithets just to spite me. No one will stop you, certainly not me. Though I will continue hating epithets, because you can’t stop me, either. XD
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Paring: Tsukishima x fem reader
Requested: no
Genre: smut
Warning(s): cheating, unprotected sex, degradation
Summary: just smut
Word count: 837
Other works
Beta reader: none
a/n: I would greatly appreciate it if all of you could take a moment to comment on this fic. As an author, I find great value in your feedback, as it allows me to better comprehend my readers, and I thoroughly enjoy interacting with all of you. Constructive criticism is always welcome, so don't hesitate to talk about this fic or send me an ask. Moreover, if you loved it, don't forget to reblog and help me reach a wider audience.
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Tsukishima knows you like him. He’s aware that given the chance, you’d let him take you to new heights, letting him make you see stars. I mean, he’s already experienced your passion firsthand, so there’s little to no one to stop him from seeking it again, except perhaps your boyfriend.
Now, don’t get him wrong. Tsukishima isn’t one to tolerate adultery, especially when one of his friends does it. But for you, he sure can bend some rules. It’s not as if he’s in love with you; no, you’re not the type of woman he could fall for. But that doesn’t mean he can’t enjoy the intense pleasure he feels when buried deep inside you, releasing all his pent-up frustrations.
He’s aware of the fact that you love your boyfriend to death, despite all his flaws. As a matter of fact, he also knows that your boyfriend loves you just as much. Who else would forgive a cheating bitch like you over and over, even after she says she would change? Could never be him, but it doesn’t matter to him at all. All he cares about is getting his dick wet, and as it seems, you are one of the best pussies in the city, so why should he not use you to your full potential?
“Does your simp of a boyfriend have any idea that you are getting your insides rearranged by me right now?” Tsukishima taunts, thrusting into you with such force that it leaves your mind reeling.
“N-no,” you stutter, your grip on his shoulders weakening under the intensity of his movements. With a swift motion, he flips you over on the bed, positioning you to his liking, and plunges back into your slick, eager flesh, continuing his relentless assault.
“Can’t fuck you like I can, now can he?” he mocks, feeling your pussy clenching his cock like never before.
“N-no,” you barely manage to answer, your mind going hazy with pleasure.
“Tell me, who fucks you this good, huh? Who fucks you so good that you are fine with cheating on your bitch of a boyfriend, you whore?”
“You, Tsuki- ah-,” you manage to utter, your words barely coherent as he hits spots inside you with a precision no other man has ever achieved.
“Yes, you cheating whore, scream my name. Let everyone know who fucks you better than your boyfriend,” he groans as he slaps you hard on your ass, making you scream even more.
“God, you’re squeezing me so tightly,” he groans, his member throbbing inside you as your walls tighten around him, creating a velvety ring at the base of his shaft.
The sound of intense skin slapping fills the room, mingling with your wild cries of pleasure, making him almost come to the edge.
“Creaming my cock so well like the slut you are, gosh you are one of the best pussies I have had,” he says gripping onto your neck to cut off your air supply, as your insides start spasming.
Sensing that you were about to come, the man immediately went to rub your clit, making your body tense up even more. Without warning, you spill out on his cock, milking both of your juices.
It doesn’t take Tsukishima much longer to spurt his load inside you. With some more thrusts, he empties himself fully inside you. Plopping beside you, he slips his soft dick out of you and scoops the mixture of both your cums leaking from your pussy and makes you lick it off his fingers, as you whine because of overstimulation.
After some time, he chirps up. “This will probably be the last time we fuck. Yamaguchi wanted to set me up with this girl, and I don’t want to do this while going out on dates with her.”
You look at him bewildered, “but what about us?”
“Huh?” he asks, clearly confused.
“About us, Tsuki, what will you do about the fact that I’m not with my boyfriend but you?” you ask.
“Maybe teach him how to fuck you for real. Also, if you think I would be in a relationship with you, you are wrong. You cheated on your boyfriend! I don’t want that shit in my life; I would very much like my partner to be loyal, unlike you,” giving you a look of disgust he continues.
“I fucked you because you are a good booty call, and are always available, but it’s time you get your shit together and stop involving me in your problems, plus it’s better if we don’t talk anymore. I don’t want my potential girlfriend to get insecure because of our past.”
With that, he collects his clothes and is out of the apartment in seconds, leaving you rethinking the decisions you had made and what exactly brought you to this place you are. What turned you into this cheating, lying woman, so much so that the boy you had called your best friend for the longest time ever, now looks at you with disgust.
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The end
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doe-eyed-fool · 2 days
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Fallen {Chapter Thirty}
Alastor x (fem)Reader
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Alastor managed to get back to his home, he nearly collapsed as we arrived. But he kept strong and carried me up to the bedroom. He walked me to the bed and laid me down, carefully checking my head.
"Y/n?" His voice was hoarse. "Can you hear me?" He asks. I nod my head, opening my eyes slightly. "Can you speak?" Again I nod. "I can." Alastor sighs a breath of relief. "How are you feeling?"
"I should be asking you that." I mutter, while trying to sit up. Alastor prevented me from doing so, as he gently pushed me back down. "Don't move too much right now darling. And don't worry about me. I'll heal up in no time..."
"Alastor, how bad are you hurt?" I ask somewhat firmly. "Darling, I'm alright. Now, you stay here and rest. I'll be back momentarily." Before he left the room he summoned his shadow counterpart.
"Do not leave her side." Alastor says sternly. The shadow nods before manifesting itself by me. Alastor gave me a small smile before leaving the room.
Alastor sighed heavily, wincing as his wounds throbbed and ached. This wasn't good.
Alastor slowly moved down the stairs. He would have teleported, but his energy was completely drained. He would need to use what little he had left, to focus on recovering.
As he reached the bottom, there was a knock at the door. He froze.
He didn't need to wonder who was there. He knew. And it shook him to his very core.
When Alastor didn't answer the door, it opened on its own. Another thing that kept him still. Those doors never opened for anyone but himself, unless someone of higher power were to come along.
Someone like...
"Alastor. I'd like to have a word with you."
Lucifer.
Alastor was hardly able to keep himself upright. There was no way he would be able to fend off Lucifer right now. Even at his full potential, Alastor's chances of beating Lucifer were slim to none.
With the way he is now. It would be like stepping on an ant.
Lucifer walked inside the home, turning his head to look around, as if admiring the decor. "I saw the most interesting thing today." He starts. "Two of the pride ring's most rival overlords, fighting. Fighting over what? I couldn't help but wonder." He approaches Alastor, looking him in the eyes.
"It must have been something grand."
Alastor said nothing.
"And it seems you were pretty roughed up in the process. Was it worth it? It must have been, whatever it was." Lucifer chuckles. "But, two overlords scraping with each other is nothing, compared to what I saw when I arrived at the scene."
"Angel blood." Lucifer said simply. "Vox, had somehow stained his hands with angel blood. Now how in the hell could that have possibly happened?"
Again, Alastor said nothing.
"Playing dumb will not do you any favors." Lucifer's tone dipped low. "Where is the angel, Alastor?"
Finally, Alastor gather the nerve to speak. "I...Have no idea what you mean."
Suddenly Alastor felt a tightness around his throat. "What did I just say?" Lucifer's his tail wrapping around Alastor's neck, and lifting him off the ground.
Alastor clawed at the tail while gagging and coughing weakly.
"Answer me. Where is the angel?" Lucifer said more sternly. Alastor kept silent. He had no other option but that.
Lucifer clicked his tongue before throwing Alastor aside. There was a loud thump as he hit the wall.
"You will tell me where you're hiding that angel Alastor. One way or another..." Lucifer said, stepping closer to him. He leaned down to Alastor's height. "I'd hate for such a well known overlord to suddenly disappear, again."
"There is no angel..." Alastor spoke weakly. Lucifer sighed. "I'm very disappointed in you, Alastor. You were one of the good ones. Very...entertaining." He says with a smirk, before raising his hand. Sharp claws grew from his finger tips, his hand engulfed with flames.
Meanwhile, while I was upstairs, I was able to hear loud crashing and thumping. Something was happening downstairs, and telling from how Alastor's shadow began to dissipate, it wasn't good.
With the shadow unable to stop me, I pulled myself out of bed and hurried as fast as I could to the top of the stairs. What I saw made my stomach drop. 
"Stop!"
Lucifer paused, then turned his attention up the stairs. At the top, is where I stood. "Please, don't hurt him!" I begged.
"Y/n..." Alastor murmurs.
Lucifer's smile returned. "Y/n? Is that you?" He stood tall and walked towards the bottom of the stairs. "My, how much you've changed! Just look at you! Come down here, let me get a closer look..."
"Y/n...run. Get out of here..." Alastor's voice strained. Lucifer laughs. "Yes, you may try and run. But I assure you, you will not get far. I don't intend on letting you slip away from me again..."
"I'm not running." I said before walking down the stairs. I stopped just before Lucifer. "You can do whatever you want with me, but let Alastor go. Don't hurt him."
Lucifer smirked and moved his hand towards my face. I flinch slightly as his claw made contact with my cheek.
Alastor growled slightly and grabbed at Lucifer's leg. "Don't you touch her!"
Lucifer kicked him away, his boot roughly colliding with his face. "Stay quiet, this doesn't concern you anymore."
"No!, Please, hurt him!" Lucifer grabbed my chin and yanked me down to eye level with him.
"And you, my dear, are in no position to be barking orders." Lucifer hissed lightly, his tone settling back into a more casual one. "You must understand, an angel such as yourself does not belong here. It only makes me wonder..."
"Why has God abandoned you?"
Lucifer slowly let go of my face, I step away from him.
"I...I don't know. I've been trying to figure that out this whole time...I don't know why..." I answer.
"Well, I suppose it doesn't matter anymore. You're here." Said Lucifer. "And while it is a puzzling situation...I can not allow you to roam freely in my kingdom."
"Then...What do you plan to do with me?" I ask, though, I had a good feeling as to what the answer might be...
"I'm not going to keep you locked away, and hidden from the word. That's for certain." Lucifer says smugly, eyeing Alastor down. Alastor barely had to strength to glare up at him.
"Alastor has done everything to keep that order you have down here." I say suddenly. "You saw me back at the hotel. He disguised me then, and has been until today. I know keeping me a secret, might have angered you. But, other than that, there is no reason to punish Alastor. No one knows about me, accept for him and you...and now Vox I guess." I pause for a moment.
Lucifer laughs. "Oh trust me, he won't be spilling about you anytime soon."
"Did...Did you kill him?" I ask hesitantly. "Goodness, no!" Said Lucifer. "Killing off one of the pride ring's most influential overlord? Just imagine the uproar that would cause alone. No, I did not kill him. But I made sure, that he kept his mouth shut tight about this situation. Otherwise, punishment would be in order..."
"Right..." I mutter. "About what I said before. I'll accept whatever you might do with me, but in exchange, Alastor goes free."
Lucifer cracked a small smirk. "Alastor?" He asks, without taking his eyes off me. "Has this little angel managed to catch your eye?"
Alastor and I met each other's gaze. Each of us, concerned for the other. If Alastor had the strength, even just a little bit, he'd do everything in his power to get us away from here. But he was just hanging on by a thread, yet unwilling to slip away.
"I'm surprised." Said Lucifer. "You must be very special, young lady. It's quite the shame however..." His expression darkened and his tone drastically changing from his smug behavior.
"To loose her so suddenly..."
I felt the air being forced from my lungs, a dull ache that grew steadily within my chest, warm blood dripped from my lip down to my chin. My heart beat becoming slow, and the world growing dark.
I look down, to see Lucifer's claws ripping through my chest.
And the last thing I would ever hear, would be Alastor's sorrowful wail of my name.
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nogodsonlythem · 1 day
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I’m still working my way through Sophomore Year, but I spoiled Aelwyn’s storyline for myself (oops) and I have to say dear Jesus dear lord it hurts but it’s so good.
In many ways, she reminds me of my older sister. The golden child who paved the way for me to stumble along, who always had a mean word for me even when I tried my best. It shocked me, then, when one day I boldly asked her why she didn’t like me, and she said, “What do you mean? Of course I like you.”
Even within that supposedly kind sentiment I could taste her scorn; are you truly so stupid to think that I didn't like you? But she had never shown me any sign to the contrary. What else was I supposed to believe?
We no longer live under the same roof. I only see her on holidays; I only call her to ask what she wants for her birthday. I bait her, and she baits me. People tell me that I just have to be patient, that one day we’ll be best friends. I don’t know if that day will ever come. I don’t know if I even want it anymore.
But Aelwyn makes me wonder. Does my sister truly care? Is she simply incapable of showing it? Does she really want to reach out to me but has no way of doing so?
Maybe, sister of mine, we have the potential for something greater.
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sunnybyler · 2 days
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the way some people talk about the mor & eris situation genuinely grosses me out and i just have to talk about it. mind you, this is coming from someone who doesn’t really like mor and really likes eris (or rather, likes the potential he has and believes him to be good).
i absolutely hate the fact that some people jump to mor lying about her absolutely horrific trauma just because they like eris. now, don’t get me wrong. i 100% believe there’s more to the story than we’re being told. it might be true that mor is leaving some information out. but y’all, it’s explicit that she was horribly abused and nearly killed for what she did with cassian. i’ve even seen people say she made part that up too which is even more crazy to me when that’s the part of this story where we do know exactly what happened. to some extent, i get why people question eris’s involvement. sjm is very obviously setting him up to be a secretly good guy wearing a mask. i mean, why else would she retcon him being at jesminda’s death? and there’s so many other hints. it’s also heavily implied that he wasn’t being evil in leaving mor there, i mean he basically said as much in acosf. however, that doesn’t mean that mor’s trauma is suddenly untrue or invalid just because eris had good motivations behind not helping her. my personal theory is that he left her because he knew she wanted out, that all beron would do would be abuse her further, and some law that if he touched her she would become autumn court territory. or something along those lines. imo he probably also knows she’s queer which is why he was so cryptic in the hewn city. i’ve also seen the mates theory which is interesting, but i’m not fully sold on it yet. regardless of the truth of it all, i definitely believe that eris was saving her in the only way he could when he left her there. HOWEVER. that does not mean that mor cannot be traumatized by it. i mean, imagine being in that situation. showing up and her condition and being left there to rot basically. i wouldn’t be able to look at whoever did that to me either, even if they were protecting me from a worse fate. two things can be true at once. eris can have good intentions, and mor can still have valid trauma because of what happened to her. you’re allowed to like characters that do morally gray things guys. not everything is black and white, and that’s okay.
also, the evil mor theory is ridiculous i’m sorry. like yeah, her truth power is weirdly vague and sketchy, but y’all are reaching. i don’t even hate the theory because i like mor, i hate it because it makes absolutely no sense. think about the absolutely TERRIBLE backlash sjm would get for making her only queer character secretly evil and making up her horrific trauma and abuse. like can you imagine???? that would NEVER happen. especially when she’s already so heavily criticized for her writing of queer characters. i get that authors pull dumb shit sometimes, but no one on her team would ever allow that, and i don’t believe sjm would ever want to either. i like theorizing sometimes but at a certain point it just goes too far for my taste and i just had to get this off my chest.
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