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#verse: truly inspiring
braveparanoiac · 6 months
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Oh, there's definitely parallels. But not in the way he's thinking of. [He's lifting a sideways hand at Bill, thumb and index extended, and then-] Pew. Heh.
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some-eldritch-bats · 3 months
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Absolutely losing my mind at the names of some of the gods tbh. I'm perpetually in awe of the person who chose to name a canonical god "May Its Spear Impale Your Father Sufficiently To Fuck Your Mother" and hit Publish on that. A level of power I cannot hope to achieve.
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characteroulette · 22 days
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Heated Whetstone (In Stars and Time)
Siffrin and Isabeau get intimate with one another.
Mind the mature rating!! I'm fighting for my life here to write this argh
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half the things that haven't happened yet
Summary: What Lt. Sadi Ratan has once jokingly told Jo Gar at the end of "The Amber Fan" comes back with a vengeance.
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The words echoed in Sadi's mind as Señor Isidro Alcantara had told them to team up to work on Miguel Chua's case.
"I don't care what you think, but you two should work on this case together. You both found him, you both saved him from those miscreants, so you better investigate this case together! Your egos pale in comparison with this poor man's life. This is a life-and-death situation!" the head of a small but dedicated group of marketplace regulation agents told them.
From the looks of it, the old man was clearly exasperated at how they had behaved while Doc Maggie Alcantara was treating the survivor with the help of her younger brother Noli, still awake at this time of the night. And he was probably exasperated at how they had been carrying on for years since the first time they met. Who could blame Isidro Alcantara, anyway?
And then he remembered what he had told after having solved the case involving an expensive amber fan, hitting him like a gut punch:
"We should work more closely together, Señor."
He had thought that it would bring him into the good graces of the Island Detective, even joking about resigning from the police force so he could join him. But Jo rebuffed him, though more gracefully that he'd give him credit.
"I'm afraid," he had begun declining, "that the loss to the Force would be too great, Lieutenant."
That was a blow to his ego, that was certain.
Yet when it was someone like Isidro Alcantara who suggested this--or rather compel them--he never thought that those words would haunt him back. What was he thinking as this wave of déjà-vu washed over him? He was too sure about himself about handling himself against Jo Gar and probably handling him--
He stopped. Dios, what was he thinking? Handling him, indeed! he sneered mentally.
Only the thought of working more closely with Jo Gar began creeping into his brain. It was not like a jolt of thunder but a slow simmering that would boil at a later time. And when "working more closely" meant doing the investigation together, being subjected to each other's habits and quirks that each might find irritating or fascinating, wondering what it felt like to be near one another, finding out each other's strengths and weaknesses, contemplating on how to shut each other up by--
No! Sadi scolded his brain. He could not afford to entertain any unwanted thoughts about Jo Gar, pleasurable they might be. Not when they had a survivor wary of their intentions and of them, not when said survivor would rather cut his heart out rather than cooperate with them for any reason.
Perhaps the elders were right. Be careful what you wish for, they had warned.
Once kicked out of the clinic, sitting on a bench to wait to be allowed in again, he turned to Jo Gar, and he didn't want to think about how unreal he appeared. He was one wily devil with the face of an angel, his graying hair like silver under the dim lights and his blue-gray eyes luminous even when half-closed when thinking.
Here we go again, Sadi thought as he tried to stamp down those thoughts that might be the death of him.
"Did the señor say that we must work on this case together?" he asked Jo, who turned to him, his eyes on him.
Jo Gar sighed. "It is so, Lieutenant. It looks like this is going to be that way."
Sadi didn't roll his eyes heavenward, but he hoped to God to survive this...collaboration or whatever this would be called unscathed.
Survive without losing his heart, mind, and soul to the man he hated the most.
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welcometoteyvat · 6 months
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obsessed with penny, her parents, autumn, rouge, don quijano, nana and their little band of other friends
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usagimen · 8 months
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     this is slightly odd to think of but there's something inherently tender in the brutality of sayuri's hands. the fact that they are lovingly bound with each wrapped carefully cleansed && attended to. during the process an attendant always speaks with her as if trying to ease any burden she carries. the fact they are a sole source of destruction but also great benevolence. mercy && chaos that equally dwell within her body, aligning perfectly when she must show resolve.          though, she still harbors a reluctance to allow the flesh to be seen in entirety. all the broken bits, bruises, lacerations && the callouses that come from being rougher than expected. her overly feminine delight in wearing red nails or beautiful gloves, rings, the absolute tenderness when she uses her touch to console or protect. idk! it just feels so very sayuri that physical affection is how she shows love despite being scared to receive the same in return all in terror her jagged bits will hurt someone.   
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art · 22 days
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Meet the Artist: @erindrawsstuff
Hi, I’m Erin, and I draw stuff! I’m an illustrator and 2D animator based in Austin, Texas (yee-haw). I’ve been in and out of the animation/entertainment industry for about 3 years, working many different roles like character designer for Rooster Teeth, animator for The Daytripper (a Texas-based PBS special), and character and prop designer for Lowbrow Studios (Adam Ruins Everything, etc.). Most of my work is now in personal projects like my webcomic “SUBSIX” (I promise I’m coming back to it!) and working with friends and colleagues within indie spaces, all while working my day job and returning to school for a degree in 3D animation! Most of my inspiration can likely be traced back to my cringe anime roots and the more obscure 2D animated movies from Disney while looking to new inspirations like Into the Spider-verse and Delicious in Dungeon. I think my main goal has been to create compelling stories with enticing characters while trying to navigate the complexities of life and the people in it (both in the media I create and irl). In the meantime, I explore this through reading works like The Locked Tomb, listening to Philosophy Tube, playing disaster lesbians in our DnD campaign of nearly 4 years, playing video games that make me cry and question things, and challenging myself to grow and improve in all aspects. I hope someday I’m able to return to being a full-time artist, but for now, I’m rediscovering why I create and how to maintain a reasonable work/life balance. I’m truly grateful that people enjoy my work, regardless of how big or small my following is or becomes in the future. I hope one day I’m able to be an inspiration to someone as many have for me! Thank you for this opportunity to introduce myself!
Nice to meet you, Erin! Below are some pieces they have shared with you all.
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Check out more of Erin's work over at their Tumblr, @erindrawsstuff!
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yeslordmyking · 2 years
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Just woke up and prayed for God to get Jackson to Heaven for like an hour. Am I ever going to stop obsessing over things and people that will never have anything to do with my life? 🙄
#like you don't stop praying for someone right? but at some point you have to accept that maybe something is not part of God's plan#you can't beg hard enough. you can't force it through prayer. you can't sent enough unnoticed dms and verses#you can't make God change His mind because it matters to you and your little spec of a life that much#of course gripping hard to the hope that God will say yes when the time is right he will obey the gospel and enter Heaven#whenever I wake up I can't help but wonder if Jackson's done anything to bring himself nearer or farther from God and just panic pray#I still don't know if it's something I'm meant to care about and continue or just a silly wordly obsession I need to let go of#I've already tried letting go. But... who can just give up and accept someone they (delusionally) care about might not be saved?#does God really ask that of us? to just accept that for our loved ones? no way right....#btw I saw Jackson refer to his fans as 'loved ones' on twitter and I'm devastated that I'm probably not included in that#I'm not worthy of being considered jacky or ahgase or stan or fan of anyone or anything anymore....#why love anybody but God that deeply... no matter how much good and potential you see in them... right? God says don't be inspired by man..#so how can I dare to think highly about people and see good in them?#goodness this is torture. I keep saying I can't care anymore but instead I care MORE. I'm not supposed to. I was never supposed to...#I'll keep praying until I'm 9000% positive God doesn't want me to have a single thought or care towards Jackson ever again....#I truly hope that never ever happens until I know he's saved. then I'll relax. a little...#anyway have I mortifyingly embarrassed myself enough yet and exposed my shameful heart#gotta go. shame me while I'm gone. for whatever reason I keep coming back to my dead blog like there's something here for me....#laters gators#quoting mcu even though I'm supposed to not love that anymore either 🤪🤪🤪 k bye forreal
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jokeringcutio · 4 months
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Stepdad! William Afton x Reader – ‘Boyfriend’ (SMUT)
Summary: You bring home a boy. Your mother is excited. Your stepdad…not so. Cue to stepdad William Afton staking his claim and reminding you who you truly belong to.
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Fandom: FNAF (inspired by the movie verse) Pairing: William Afton x Reader Rating: Explicit Warnings: Explicit Sexual Content (SMUT), Age difference, Older man x Younger woman, stepdad x daughter!reader, dub-con, implied con, taboofic, spanking, fingering, cunnilingus, p in v sex, secret!sex, jealousy!, threats, hair pulling, unsafe sex, creampie, breeding!kink implied, infidelity, implied established stepdadxreader, William Afton is not a nice man, William Afton is a bad dad.
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Boyfriend
Flashing him an encouraging smile, you stepped into the warmth of your home, the chill from the outside air dissipating. Your mother bustled about in the kitchen, the familiar scents of her cooking enveloping you like a comforting embrace. As she turned to greet you, her gaze fell upon Sam, who stood just behind you.
"Mom," you said, motioning towards the young man beside you. "Remember Sam?"
Sam was undeniably handsome; his blond hair framed a chiseled face adorned with bright green eyes that seemed to capture every bit of light in the room. His tall frame filled out the doorway, exuding a quiet strength that immediately caught your mother's attention. Her eyes twinkled as she looked him over.
"Nice to meet you,” Sam said politely, extending a hand that your mother eagerly shook. Her eyes traced over his broad shoulders and the white toothy smile.
"You are on the football team, aren’t you?" she replied warmly, her excitement barely contained.
“I am,” Sam confirmed, his smile broadening, reminiscing you of ancient statues of Greek Heroes and Gods. He was picture-perfect. Just the right type of boy to take home to impress your mother with.
"Actually, Mom," you hesitated for just a moment before continuing, voice shy and eyelashes fluttering, "Sam and I are dating.”
"Really?" Her eyes widened, a grin spreading across her face. "Oh, how wonderful!" She clapped her hands together in delight.
“Your daughter is a gem,” Sam said smoothly, words slipping out like velvet. You could just see how your mother seemed to approve of him.
He placed his bag on the kitchen counter and seemed to look around for something, then his eyes traveled to you, a question within them. You tried to suppress a grin and shook your head, and Sam’s eyes traced back to your mom.
"Excuse me," Sam said, "Can I use the…?”
"Of course, dear." Your mother pointed down the hallway. "Second door on the right."
As soon as he disappeared from sight, your mother pulled you into a tight hug. "So spill, when did this happen? Didn’t you tell me you didn’t like that boy?”
“Just today,” you said with a small grin. “And perhaps I changed my mind. Try and date. Like someone kept nagging I should.”
“Finally,” your mom said, raising her palms in the air. “I have been praying you would go on a date, even if it was just once. You really need to get some experience. And Sam seems… nice.”
“I know,” you said, tongue pressing against the back of your teeth pensively. “He’s not my type…”
“I wasn’t going to say that,” your mother said hesitatingly, though you could tell she had been thinking it. Then she flashed you another smile and gently placed her hand on top of yours. “I am happy you are finally crawling out of your shell. You’re a pretty girl,” at this you scrunched your nose and she caught sight of it, “yes, you are. Even if you think differently.”
Then she let go of your hand and let out a happy sigh. “Oh, I remember when I was your age.”
You rolled your eyes as you both said, “Dated a new boy each week.”
You looked at your mom and you both laughed. “I know, mom,” you said. “I know. But I’m not like that.”
“I know,” she replied with a gentle smile, her head resting on her hands and her elbows leaning on the kitchen counter as she looked at you. “I'm so happy for you, sweetheart! He seems like a great guy."
You couldn't help but smile. "He really is, Mom."
Sam returned to the kitchen, a sheepish grin on his face, and you both settled down at the table to work on your homework assignment. Your mother, sensing that you two might want some time alone, gave you both a teasing smile.
"If you get hungry you may take from these,” she gestured at the food she’d been making. “I'll be working in the attic if you need anything," she said before exiting the kitchen.
Sam eyed the snacks your mother had been making and picked one up, taking a bite. You followed his example.
The assignment before you was boring, and quite soon both of you were sighing. You noticed how Sam was moving closer to you with every opportunity he got, brushing an arm against you or a leg. It was exactly why you had chosen to date him. You just knew he would make a move and never took schoolwork seriously. He was that type of guy. Hands-on. Thinking of one thing only.
"God, I hate this assignment," Sam mumbled as he flipped through his textbook, his green eyes filled with annoyance.
"Tell me about it," you agreed, rubbing your temples. "Let's take a break and put on some music."
"Great idea." Sam pulled out his phone and connected it to a small speaker. Soon, the sultry sounds of bachata filled the air, and you couldn't help but sway along to the rhythm.
"Come on," Sam stood up, offering you his hand. "Let's dance."
You grinned, taking his hand and allowing him to lead you into the dance. His strong arms guided you effortlessly, the heat between you two palpable as your bodies moved in sync. The world around you seemed to fade away as you lost yourself in the music and Sam's embrace.
The sound of a door slamming shut jolted you back to reality and you looked straight into the fury blue eyes of your father.
William Afton, your stepfather, stood in the doorway, his face twisted with anger. You immediately felt a knot of fear tighten in your stomach.
"Uh, hi Dad," you stammered, trying to sound casual even as your heart raced.
"Who is this?" he growled, his cold blue eyes narrowing as they fixed on Sam. Pretty young boy. Everything the opposite of what he was.
"Th-this is Sam," you replied, your voice trembling slightly. "He's my boyfriend." Not quite, but dating counted, right?
"Boyfriend?" William sneered, his distaste evident. "And that makes this okay? You think I'd let something like this happen under my roof?"
"Sir, we were just—" Sam began, only to be cut off by the sharp, icy glare William shot him.
"Enough," William snapped, his tone making it clear that there would be no further discussion. You could see Sam's jaw clench in frustration, but he wisely held his tongue.
You forced yourself to take a calming breath and lowered your gaze submissively. "I'm sorry, Dad," you murmured, hoping that would be enough to placate him for now.
William's lips curled into a sneer as he paced the room, his anger radiating in waves. "You're too young to be dating," he spat, his words like venom. "Don’t know what you’re getting into, do you? So eager for a boy’s cock."
You felt your cheeks flushed and shyly stared at the floor, letting your stepdad’s words wash over you like waves.
“And you,” he then said, aiming his fully attention at Sam now. “I know your type. Think you can seduce a naïve young girl, fuck her on your cock once and then throw her aside like a cheap whore. Laugh about it afterward with your friends. You think my daughter’s easy like that?”
Sam shifted uncomfortably under the weight of William's gaze, visibly shrinking back from him. You felt your cheeks burn with humiliation, wanting nothing more than to disappear.
"Maybe your mother thinks it's cute," William continued, turning back to you again, his voice dripping with disdain. "But I know better. She'd love to see you become a whore, wouldn't she?"
"Hey, that's not fair—" Sam started to protest, but a single raised hand from William silenced him.
"Enough." The word was barely more than a growl, and it sent shivers down your spine. You couldn't help but feel betrayed by Sam's inability to defend you, even as you knew that standing up to William was like trying to stop a hurricane with an umbrella.
"Look," Sam muttered, avoiding your eyes. "I should go. We can finish the homework later, or something."
And it was exactly this something that had the hope inside if your tummy plummeting. As Sam rushed to your front door, you followed him with featherlight steps.
Somehow this was what you had expected of him. All tough and popular in school, but when facing a bigger man he would shrink away.
It irked you that he didn’t even try to stand up for you, that he accepted this defeat without so much as turning to your dad and telling him off. Nope, he just went to the door. Left you to your dad. Coward.
You slammed your hand on the door before he could open it, forcing him to lock eyes with you.
"Wait," you whispered. "Why didn't you say anything? Why didn't you stand up for me?"
"Your dad,” Sam spoke through gritted teeth but hesitated, as if he were uncertain why he even had this conversation with you. At the end of the hallway, you could feel your stepdad’s towering presence, heavy and dark.
Like a shadow watching over the two of you.
“Your dad’s just...too much for me," Sam finally admitted, his voice tense. He paused and looked at you. "I'm sorry."
"Stepfather," you corrected him softly, feeling a strange mixture of relief and disappointment. "He's my stepfather."
Sam shrugged, his bag on his back, the zipper open still, showing the folders and maps you were supposed to be working on.
"Either way, I don't want to be around him." With that, Sam stepped out the door, leaving you alone to face the storm that was William Afton.
You slowly turned around, the shape of your stepfather like a dark shadow at the end of the hall. The displeased curve of his lips was visible from where you stood.
He only needed to point a finger to the floor, signaling that you had to return to him. No words were needed. Step after careful step, you walked closer, entering the room before he closed the door behind you.
“Well now,” the words came out low and rasped as your stepdad placed his large hand on the small of your back, guiding you back to the kitchen table before roughly pushing you toward it. You tumbled over by the sheer force, chest pressed against the cold wood as items that had still been on the table now clattered to the floor.
Strong hands moved past your hips, pulling your pants and panties down in one swift motion, exposing your neither regions. Cold air brushed past your skin and you subdued a shudder.
"You think it's okay to bring someone else home, hmm?" William asked, his voice cold. "Think I wouldn't find out?"
"Dad, I-" you began to protest, but he cut you off.
"Quiet." He didn't give you a chance to respond before he delivered the first spank, sharp and sudden. You gasped at the mix of pain and pleasure that shot through your body. His hands were big, even against the supple flesh of your ass.
"Count," he instructed, his breath heavy.
“One,” you said, words forced out through gritted teeth. Another slap, the stinging slightly fiercer than before. Your hands curled into fists in front of you, trying to support your weight on your elbows as you stood bent forward over the table. Another smack. “Two.”
You heard the deep breathing of your stepdad as it increased. He was getting excited. “You brat,” you heard him murmur in between slaps. The stinging increasingly becoming worse, the pain a delightful pleasure that made you hum.
“It’s clear Dad here has got to teach you a lesson not to be such a little slut,” each of those final words was punctuated by another firm slap to your buttocks, making you see stars and wheeze with pleasureful pain.
You whimpered out the numbers, bracing yourself for another smack. As the spanking continued, your cheeks burned and your arousal grew. There was something thrilling about being at his mercy, about submitting entirely to him.
Finally, your stepdad stopped, and you waited in anticipation for another slap. But it didn’t come. Instead, you felt his strong hands massaging your tender flesh. His fingers, rough from years of working on animatronics, sent shivers down your spine as he caressed your sensitive skin, separating your now sore cheeks and pushing them back together again.
"Such a pretty little thing, aren't you?" he purred, his hot breath fanning across your wet pussy. You could tell by the tone of his voice that he'd gotten exactly what he wanted, and it both terrified and excited you. He leaned down, his tongue teasing your slit before he captured your clit between his teeth, sending a jolt of pleasure through your body.
"Dad," you moaned, unable to contain yourself any longer. He hummed in response, his lips working expertly on your most sensitive spot. The nibbling the flick of his tongue to your sensitive clit, it was all too much, and you had to bite the back of your hand in order to keep from crying out loud. Suppose your mom would hear.
No, she could never find out!
Chapped lips curved against your sensitive sticky-wet skin. The little hairs of his beard tickled you as William continued to pleasure you with his mouth. You felt a familiar tension building within you. Desperate for release, you wriggled on the table, wishing you could somehow grasp his hair and urge him on. But he held your hips tightly in his hands, grip strong enough to create finger-shaped bruises, his head buried between your legs. All you could to was squirm against the table, wishing you could see him as he ate you out.
"Please," you begged, the sound nearly a sob. William chuckled darkly, slipping his fingers inside you and curling them just right. It was all too much – the pressure, the pleasure, the pain – and suddenly, you were falling apart, your orgasm washing over you in a tidal wave of sensation.
Your body trembled, pussy pulsing wildly around his finger and tongue, slick gushing forward and into his awaiting mouth, coating his lips.
As he withdraw, you heard a dark chuckle. Your world spun and slowly got back into focus, and you realized you were still on the table, your weight resting on your elbows as you stared at the photographs of your family hanging on the wall.
You were grateful that the table supported you, because your legs were shaking and you didn’t think you could stand on your own right now.
"Good girl," William praised, his voice low and dangerous as he withdrew his fingers from your quivering core. As you lay there, catching your breath, you could feel the lingering pulse of your orgasm still radiating through your body. But William wasn't finished with you yet.
"Stay bent over," he commanded, his voice rough and demanding. You obeyed, anticipation causing a shiver to run down your spine. The sound of his zipper being undone filled the room, and you couldn't help but feel both nervous and excited for what was about to happen.
"Such a tight little pussy," he growled as he positioned himself behind you, one hand gripping your hip while the other tangled in your hair. He pulled you back, forcing you to arch your back even more as his cock pressed against your entrance.
"Please," you whimpered, desperate for him.
"Who do you belong to?" he asked, his voice dark and dangerous.
"Y-you," you stuttered, feeling your face flush with embarrassment.
"Say it," he demanded.
"I belong to you, Daddy."
"Good girl," he praised before thrusting into you without warning, his cock splitting you open and filling you completely. A gasp tore from your throat as you struggled to adjust to his size, but William didn't give you any time to recover. He set a brutal pace, pounding into you like an animal, his grip on your hair keeping you in place.
"Fuck, you're so perfect," he snarled, his breath hot on your neck. His words sent a shudder through you, and you couldn't help but push back against him, wanting to take him deeper.
"Harder, please," you begged, needing to feel his complete control.
"Greedy little thing," he chuckled, somehow managing to drive into you even harder. "You love this, don't you?"
You parted your lips to answer, the feelings overwhelming you. But he was quicker.
“Quiet,” he snarled in your ear, “We don’t want your mother to hear what we’re doing here, do we?”
Hard as it was, you managed a nod – even with the way he kept a grip tightly on your hair. Your body ached for him, and every thrust of his hips seemed to drive you further under his spell.
"Tell me who you're gonna fuck from now on," he demanded, his voice a low growl.
"Only you, Daddy."
"Damn right," he muttered as he continued to pound into you, each thrust making your body shudder with pleasure. You felt the firm outline of his hips, the softness of his belly pressing against your back as he thrust inside of you. It shouldn’t feel so sinful, but it did. Your much older stepfather was making you feel so good, that it dazed you.
You could feel another orgasm building, but before you could reach that peak, William's grip on your hair tightened as his own release approached.
"Fuck!" he snarled, his hips slamming into you one last time as he came, filling you with his hot seed. His grip changed on you while you cried out, walls fluttering around his hard shaft. His hand on your hip and the one pulling your hair ensured that you were pulled flushed against him, making sure he stayed buried deep inside for just a little longer than needed while your cunt pulsed around him.
Slowly, your vision started to stabilize again. The warped pictures on the wall came back into focus and your pussy’s grip on his cock became looser, not pulsing as frequently as your body started to relax.
His panting breaths filled the room as he slowly pulled out, releasing your hair from his grip.
“Now, what do you say?” you heard his low voice rumble as you slumped forward on the table, catching your breath.
"Thank you, Daddy," you murmured, feeling the slick escape from the depths of your core, sliding all the way down your legs. You slowly got up and pushed yourself away from the table, facing William.
He stood a few feet behind you, his pants resting on his hips, cock and balls proudly on display. Liquid coated his softening shaft, and you watched entranced as he started to tuck it back inside his pants before zipping his fly.
You followed his example, bending over to pull your pants up, wincing at the discomfort you felt deep inside your core where he had been battering your cervix without a care in the world. You prayed your mother wouldn’t walk in right now, but luckily, she didn’t.
When you were presentable enough again – making sure your hair wasn’t quite the mess and ignoring the cold sticky liquid that ran down the inside of your thigh – you took a step closer to your stepdad.
“Mr. Afton,” you said, knowing he liked it when you addressed him so formally. And it worked. You saw the spark in his blue eyes. Licking your lips, closed the distance between you, standing on your tiptoes to give him a gentle kiss.
Once the kiss broke, your eyes met his blue ones. The pupils so dilated they seemed almost black.
“That’s better,” your stepfather said, his hand resting on the small of your back, keeping you close to him whilst towering over you. Just the height of him made you feel small, but then there was that gaze and the firm tone he used when he spoke to you. So demanding, so in control.
"Remember," he warned, his eyes dark and intense. "I don’t ever want to see you take another boy home again, or the consequences will be far beyond anything you can ever imagine.”
As a spark lit off in your eyes, he caught sight of it and his grip on you tightened. The corners of his lips pulled into a tight line. “I am serious, do not challenge me on this one. It is unlike what you are thinking of.”
And somehow, those words brought with them a sense of danger that made you actually feel cold on the inside, like he wasn’t threatening to fuck you hard as a punishment, but that he was threatening whatever man you might want to take home in future times. Like a death sentence. Would he kill them?
“You're mine, and I don't share," he rasped.
You nodded, your heart racing at his possessiveness. Somehow, it felt both terrifying and thrilling to be so completely claimed by this dangerous, powerful man.
And as you looked into his eyes, you knew your plan had worked.
“I promise to be good for you, Dad,” you said, words a whisper.
He let go just in time before the door flung open and your mother entered the room.
“Ah, sweetheart, you’re back,” she said, bright smile on her face as she walked over to give William a hug and a kiss on his lips. His blue eyes darted past her to meet yours and you quickly glanced aside.
Once they broke apart, your mother turned toward you. “Where’s Sam?” And then a frown formed on her face as she sniffed the air. She must have been quick in recognizing the scent and deducing what must have happened, for you could see her lips curl into a small smile and her eyes twinkle,
“Well, at least I hope you’ve used protection,” she muttered as she brushed past you to return to the snacks she prepared earlier in the kitchen.
“Want a taste of something sweet,” she curiously asked your stepdad, holding up one of the plates with prepared snacks.
William’s grin widened. “Oh,” he murmured, “I think I already have.”
~ Fin ~
AN: I am open for prompts. Want to read more? Why not check my masterlist, I write a lot of reader-inserts, including x William Afton, Arthur Fleck, The Grabber, Arthur Harrow, Severus Snape, and many more. ~
Taglist: @likoplays @2pacl0ve
AN: For more, follow me (:
~~ Support me on Ko-Fi - Masterlist - Request Box ~~
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braveparanoiac · 7 months
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Good luck with that. We both know I am a being of pure energy with few weaknesses.
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darlingdekarios · 4 months
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abandon all hope.
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RATING: explicit. 18+ only. — LENGTH: 9,131— Raphael x f![warlock]tav [reader]
CONTENT: being a patron is being a sugar daddy/mommy you can't change my mind, set during Act II canon, small amounts of alcohol consumption, toxic behavior/ expressions of possession/ownership, "fluff", SMUT [unprotected p in v], KINK(S) [praise kink, orgasm control, hair pulling, biting, scratching/clawing, blood, breath play, dacryphilia, just a little degredation, size], there's a lot of poetry in here I did my best, Haarlep cameo, the least Raphael could've done for killing an Orthon for him is fuck us ffs, have fun thinking Raphael is bad at sex I'm built different, this got out so out of hand
you had become his absolute favorite - his most precious client and prized treasure. it's become increasingly difficult not to admit that you're truly his forever...and he's ready to hear it.
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"In a world of horrors where shadows loom, A tiny creature navigates through certain doom. A little mouse, determination in its eye, Hoping this will not be its last heard lullaby."
It would be a lie to say that very voice didn't send the most delightful of shivers down your spine each time it announced his presence to you - you hung on each syllable like he was speaking a new language you were desperate to understand. Though your back was turned to him as the corners of your lips twitched upward you could feel in your soul - the one that no longer belonged to you - that he knew.
Though you may have been doing your best to feign disinterest and even often annoyance at his dramatics, it was no secret that you found him amusing. Fortunately, he happened to feel rather the same, a creeping mirth building in his chest at this familiar performance you were putting on.
"Just when I was beginning to miss your theatrics."
It was only then he realized just how badly he'd yearned to hear your voice again in the time since it had last swam into his ears. Curiously - but perhaps not at all - he felt his mouth go temporarily dry as his next rehearsed verse fell from his mind momentarily. When his silence lingered you filled it gracefully as you knelt before a bucket of water, scrubbing your arms free of the blood that covered them as you worked off the most uncomfortable parts of your armor.
His stumble did not last forever - his practiced words would not go to waste.
"With the battle fought and her patron's foe slain, She has etched upon her weary soul so very much strain. With a gentleness most sincere, the Patron offers her rest. Her wearied body, soon at peace even in her mind, No longer bound by battles' fierce behest, Their worries, for a moment, left entirely behind.
For the strongest heroes, too, do need a moment's grace, To find their strength renewed in the tenderest embrace."
Though his continued lack of transparency was frustrating, particularly after the stretch of days you'd had at his bidding, you noticed the practice lilt in his words, the methodic delivery of his latest poem.
"Have you been practicing poetry for me again, my Lord?" your tone was filled to the brim with the very amusement you felt, amusement that was growing by the moment at the slight waver in his voice, the subtlest indication that now was one of few times his trademark control had faltered. "I must tell you, it really is quite sweet. I've never inspired such before."
Your pleasantries and a title you so rarely chose for him stirred a feeling oh-so rare and delicious in him, a tingle up his spine that spread a wicked grin across his face. Exhausted, and uncaring of the company at the moment you continued your work on seeking your own comfort, continuing to peel armor away from your figure and toss it to the side.
Maybe you knew the lack of attention would agonize him - maybe that was only just more amusement for you. Annoyingly, he was attempting to bury the desires as he always did around you, finding now that the feelings stirring were beginning to gnaw their way out from the inside.
"You flatter me with honorifics yet ignore my presence."
His words had the slightest bit of edge to them and yet the tone in which they were delivered could be described as little more than a purr. It was a tone you'd discovered was reserved to fall on your ears alone - he never spoke to you this way in company, though you didn't doubt others existed that were fortunate enough to hear it. It was delicious - made more-so by the sharpness to them, the gentle bite that warned his limits were being tested.
The fact you only heard it when you were alone meant you seldom travelled with companions for too long, discarding them when your interests were no longer the central focus. It was lonely, but few wanted to be at your side when they discovered the source of your power, and the moments like this reaffirmed your decision each and every time.
"In a land of shadows shrouded with a curse most horrific, Lies a weary hero, hoping her devil might be more specific. For if she doesn't soon rest, Her weary body will be for the shadows to ingest."
There was no denying the radiance and allure in his laughter - it rang out so beautifully it didn't fit in a place like this, it almost wasn't fair for such a joyous sound to ring out in such a cursed land. Now, you couldn't help yourself - you turned to face him with a light smile pulling at your lips, exhaustion written on your face accentuated by the blood of those you'd slain in his name.
It pulled at his heart, something that seldom occurred - you were truly always a sight like this, in his eyes at least.
"Your skills increase tenfold each time we meet," he complimented, the smile settling on his face matched by the pull of the wrinkles beside his eyes. "You were successful in your latest task."
It was a statement - not a question, the wordless affirmation of his continued faith in your abilities. Still, you could've given him a snarky response - the blood covering your body and armor wasn't enough of a clue for him? In truth, though, you'd began to enjoy the moments where he complimented you - even more the rare moment he actually thanked you.
"As always," your coy tone was the final act to try to hide the giddiness you felt now, as well as the fatigue that was slowly overtaking your body. When was the last time you had eaten? When he left would you simply remove the rest of your armor and do your best to build a fire and lay beside it, or would you simply make do with the cold ground beneath you now?
He could sense it; he knew exactly what was on your mind. In truth, your thoughts were mirrored in his - this was no place for someone of your caliber to rest, especially not when you'd been so very good for him already. He'd heard about your camp, of course, but seeing it for himself - well, it really was quite awful.
A snap of his fingers and once again you were in the House of Hope, the unmistakeable extravagant decor a much better sight than the lands you'd been traveling. Though it was a bathroom where you appeared it was already enough to almost bring tears to your eyes - it smelled delightful, a bath was already drawn with bubbles and filling the room with the warmest steam. Unsurprising was the small table beside it filled with fruits, meats, cheeses and wine that made a fresh rumble sound in your stomach.
"It is so very fortunate your generous patron is willing to reward a valiant effort, would you not agree?"
You huffed a breath through your nose as a smile spread further across your fae, heat rising in cheeks as you returned your gaze to his. "And who said devils are selfish?"
His beautiful laughter filled your ears again, the warmth radiating from the fireplace and the bath nothing compared to that which engulfed you just hearing the sound so entirely for you. His movements were smooth as he made his way to the small table, pouring a glass of wine with ease while his eyes stayed on you the entire time.
"You have undertaken quite the ordeal on my behalf, you deserve a proper display of my abundant appreciation," there was the unmistakable purr of sultriness beneath his tone, his strides predatory as he made his way back to you, eyes running up and down your entire frame again before settling on your eyes. "And a bath, though I do so worship the vision of my dark hero covered in the blood of my enemies."
"You show your appreciation by providing me my power."
"And yet," the pause lingered heavily - if you weren't so keen on enjoying everything he had to offer you there would probably be a quip about holding for drama, but now you only looked up at him with wide doe eyes - eager and expectant and deliciously obedient. "I find myself curiously wanting to provide you with more."
The look that was blooming in his eyes was a peculiar one - one of a fondness. He slipped behind you gracefully, one of his hands reaching to grasp your hip and turn you to face an ornate mirror before his arm fully encircled your waist, drawing you back toward his chest. His hand slipped up your body, avoiding any part that would have been too inappropriate to touch without express permission, to grasp your chin, holding your face gently but firmly as he angled it to look in the ornate mirror before you.
"The longer you have my power reflected in your eyes, the more beautiful you become. Wouldn't you agree? You are radiant."
Now it was impossible to pass off the heat that had risen in you as nothing more than the heat from the bath - with his hand just beneath your chin on your neck and his claws digging ever-so-slightly into your skin, the heat had begin to pool at your core. You were still trying to remain focused, to maintain the aura of strength you almost never allowed to falter…particularly around him. But with him pressed to your back and his eyes devouring you in the mirror like a feral animal with a long-awaited meal, there were certain signs from your body that gave you away.
The elevated heart rate. The blown pupils. The pull of your bottom lip between your teeth.
It didn't take any amount of perception to see the signs that were so plainly there, particularly not for a devil who was eager to look for them.
"As you've pointed out, I'm covered in blood."
"A testament to our combined strength, my pet," you were certain with the intensity with which he was staring into your eyes' reflection in the mirror that he had stopped blinking, finding an unchanging face each time your eyes closed briefly. "Do you mind?"
He was offering you the wine glass to free up his hand or to distract yours - it was impossible to tell, really. Regardless of the intent you reached for it, taking a drink and relishing the familiar fire this particular wine ignited in your throat and belly.
Meanwhile his free hand was lightly trailing over the bow to the back laces of your clothing, giving a subtle tug to seek permission as his eyes continued to burn into yours in the mirror. With a nod the laces fell free under the quick work of his fingers - it was somewhat endearing that you knew he could do this with the snap of his fingers, yet he was choosing to do it himself, to peel you apart with his own hands. What you'd been wearing pooled to the ground and revealed the aftermath of your battle in full, all of the bruises and scratches and burns that had no place there…unless they were given by him or on his word.
His hands found your shoulders first and with a familiar warmth your injuries became another part of your past, his eyes trailing up and down your body to ensure all that remained was evidence of injuries not belonging to you.
"Positively resplendent," his breath was hot on your neck as he angled his face closer to yours, his nose brushing behind your ear softly. "A painting of this image would be so suitable for a portrait of us, wouldn't you agree?"
Bravery - it was a characteristic of yours that he cherished nearly more than any other, one that provided endless entertainment (and often worry, though he was hardly eager to admit that). It was the very trait that sometimes pushed you to do or say the very last thing he expected, and yet you still managed to take him by surprise. Even now in his domain was one of those times, your face unwavering and intention resolute as you spoke.
"Not in this form."
All he'd offer in his momentary shock was a raised eyebrow before these features faded and he transformed to the figure he was meant for, wings stretching behind his back as he got more comfortable. This is how he was meant to look - how the two of you were supposed to appear together, the devil and his toy hero, you and the source of your growing power. It would take blindness not to see the radiance with which you two joined together, and even then it was palpable in the air.
Ignoring the many feelings and tensions that crackled between the two of you when you were together was difficult - and growing more impossible by the day.
"This is suitable for the foyer."
He continued to lean down behind you, swallowing you with his true height so he could press a singular kiss behind your ear before straightening his back, his hand that was still flat against your now fluttering stomach pulling you against him tighter. Your skin burned where his lips had graced it - tingling as though his the action was magic. Your body only continued to respond to him with all of the tell-tale signs: a rising temperature, parted lips, blown pupils, quicker breath.
He so adored that you were trying to maintain control - to maintain an unbothered façade.
"You prefer me this way."
It left his mouth as a statement, but you caught the subtle insecurity at the tail of the sentence, the way his words slightly trailed and his eyes flashed with a truth - and hope? - that was so rarely seen.
Was he afraid of your answer?
"You don't need to wear a mask around me," you were quick to silence his doubt and eager to put out a particular fire that threatened everything around it boiling beneath his surface. Your sincerity and sensitivity was hardly what had initially drawn him to you - he loved that you'd always been willing to tell him your mind without a care to whom you were speaking, even himself included at times. "You would know that I preferred you this way if you spoke to me yourself more often instead of sending your little spy."
Suddenly you understood the meaning of the phrase "devilish grin" in a new light.
"Do I detect jealousy, my dear?" he purred as he leaned down toward you again, his breath tickling the back of your ear and neck and his claws dug into your hip slightly. You tried to ignore the flare of heat within you, unwilling to admit it fully quite yet. "A flicker of envy, so very subtle but clear."
You huffed and rolled your eyes in response to his taunt, annoyed he could think of a rhyme so quickly and a charming one at that, and even more annoyed that it worked. Bards.
"Korilla does not enjoy the same…benefits you do," he continued when you offered nothing in response but the puff of air, a reticent hum vibrating in your chest as you raised the cool glass to your lips to take another drink. Your eyes met his in the mirror again as you realized how long they'd been focusing on his hands, allowing your gaze to stay connected as you continued to drink.
Of course, he was hardly one to leave a silence unfilled for long.
"And what of my own feelings?" he questioned, the twitch in his jaw accentuating the frustration behind his words that he was trying to tame. "So many people you meet these days and you haven't shared with a single one where you get your power…"
It was hard to focus on a conversation like this when his claws were now grazing lower down your thigh, red lines painting your skin the evidence the Cambion's claws had been there. In the mirror you could see how he lovingly soaked in the sight of each new mark - of each new claim of his territory. You'd have far more decorations from him by the time you returned to your own camp.
"What am I supposed to think other than you're ashamed of me?"
"No," the rejection of his insinuation came from your lips faster than any reply you'd given before by far, a fact that ticked his lips into a slight smile. Though the two of you teased anda taunted one another often, you were always well aware of the line before you stepped over it. "They wouldn't understand."
"They don't have to understand…they have to respect. Besides, it's not their soul to be bothered with, and you're hardly the only warlock in your little party."
"But they won't. With the Blade of Frontiers it is different…he had no choice, not really. I did - I could've chosen anything else…anyone else. And I chose you."
"Then you will make them."
You could hear the commanding tone he rarely needed to take with you begin to form in his words, a low grumble rumbling against your chest as he spoke. At this point you knew what little remained of his patience was so close to slipping away completely - but you still couldn't stop yourself from testing those tempestuous waters just a bit more.
After all, he needed you alive just as much as you needed him. Harm too serious coming your way was out of the question, and the proof you could take a bit of pain was in the stories that would be told about you and your adventures for years to come.
"It's just another contract to you. What difference does it make?"
The final impertinent word left your lips as his hand grabbed your chin, applying pressure and encouraging you to face him. He loomed over you in this form - a delicious fact - his skin noticeably hotter against yours as he leaned closer, trapping you between his body and the wall. Flames danced in his eyes, the raging inferno matching the temporary flare of anger he felt ignited in his chest. His grip on your face was resolute, thumb and forefinger grasping so hard your cheeks were squished together.
That would certainly keep you from further insult.
"I am so very fond of you, my impudent little mouse. Can you not see that is so?"
You'd been in many dangerous - increasingly so - situations recently, but the fact this one was one of the most was…invigorating. Invigorating in the same way as when he'd first approached you with a deal, in the way he'd complimented a job well done for the first time, in the way he was overjoyed when you returned from your kidnapping. In truth - because you were not foolish enough to deny what was a plainly writ fact - you were well aware you belonged to him in every aspect of the word. It was fun to test what boundaries a relationship like that presented.
Your heart was thudding against your chest harder and faster by the moment as he continued to regard you, fully aware you couldn't respond to his question through the hold he maintained on your face.
"I will not hear more of your ill-mannered mouth while I am being such a gracious host. You are far from 'just another' anything to me…"
There was a sincerity in his words that shattered any possibility of refute.
"…and I will not tolerate our attachment being hidden any longer."
A threat, or a promise? Both were equally exhilarating in their own way. With the expression on his face - furrowed brows, pinched nose, set jaw, and nostrils flaring with each breath - his feelings toward the situation were written plain on his face. He was done arguing - and you'd be foolish to push it.
"Perhaps I could have a collar fashioned for you that only I can remove."
His hand that still held your waist pulled you closer, a muscular tail winding around your lower legs to hold you against him. One of his legs slotted between your thighs as you pressed to him closer, hands clinging to his upper arms still. His face softened somewhat at the closeness, at the shaky breath that slipped past your lips as your eyes stayed oh-so focused on the way his curved into a wicked grin the more the thought blossomed in his mind.
"One that will burn you should you even try to remove it. Or perhaps better yet, a curse," as he spoke you found yourself drawn closer, entranced by the hardness in his pants that pressed to your waist now, chasing a kiss you weren't certain he'd give. "Or I could use hellfire to brand a symbol of my name beneath your eye - small enough not to ruin your beauty, large enough that everyone who sees you knows that you are mine."
He released his hold on your face only to drop his hand lower, lightly gripping your neck in a silent show of power. He regarded your expression carefully for any sign of distress and only grinned wider when he instead found observed your blown pupils and parted lips, his fingertips soaking in your accelerated pulse beneath them.
The fire in his tone sizzled for a moment, still lingering in each word but not quite as fearsome as even just a moment before. Sweet, almost - if you didn't know any better to see through the charm.
"Swear to me anew," he cooed, his thumb rubbing along the side of your neck as he spoke, eyes gazing at you with an expression that could only be described in adoration. The most temperamental volcano, fury subsided as fast as it'd come. When there was an offer to be presented, he could truly be oh-so-sweet. "An amendment to our existing contract. You are not to hide that we are joined together, or you will face consequences that will last forever."
Did it matter if you even truly had the option to refuse him when all you wanted to do was please him again? The proposition of more appreciation, the promise of his praise. That fact alone was enough to ensure your answer before you'd given it.
You nodded in understanding - specifics beyond what he'd stated weren't needed to convey the weight of his words.
"On one condition."
The bravery again - though your voice was more meek as you rightfully walked the fiery embers before you, navigating what you knew could still erupt again if you pressed too much harder again. To prove your point his eyebrow raised in annoyance, nose threatening to scrunch upward in frustration before you elaborated.
"We seal this contract with a kiss."
An expression that had almost been rage morphed into perplexity before a laugh burst from his chest, your mind lost in the sound and the view of his fangs, thoughts wandering somewhere fittingly sinful for your surroundings.
"And you talk about my theatrics."
Despite his taunting he brought you closer with his iron grip on your waist, the hand holding your neck still sliding up to your cheek as his thumb claw grazed along your bottom lip in passing. He looked at you like a child receiving a new toy, regarded you with an adoration often seen in temples.
And then, though there was still a subtle laugh shaking his chest, he held you reverently as he angled his head toward you. The rest of his expression as he approached would go unnoticed as your eyes slipped shut, holding your breath in anticipation…which he exploited for just a moment longer than was necessary before he finally gave you what you both wanted.
Your lips met like the strike of a match - the spark between flint and stone. It burned like frostbite and was over just as soon as it'd begun, taking your remaining breath with it.
It was a purr that rumbled in his chest as he ran his nose along your jaw that reminded you to breathe, his lips pressing a kiss over a pulse point on your neck pulling a gasp from your lungs as his hand slipped down the other side of your neck. Holding you like an artifact his fangs teased the skin on the spot for a moment as his grip on your waist tightened further, the tips of his claws threatening to break skin.
He withdrew before his composure melted, filling his chest with a deep breath to bring himself to full sense again.
"Come. I'm far from through with you, but you truly do need a bath."
It was…nice, which didn't quite seem wholly appropriate considering who he was and the fact the atmosphere had been threatening and tense only moments before. He sank into the tub first, motioning for you to join him by taking place between his legs. There was a voice in the back of your mind reminding you that all of this was because he wanted something - everything possible from you, and that he knew the best way to reach his goal was to manipulate.
The fact you were aware of it did little to stop you from enjoying it.
He made sure he ate and drank in a silence you didn't know he was capable of as his hands made work cleaning your body, a bath in the House of Hope proving to be a lavish experience as the water remained pristine and hot no matter how long it went on.
*(Though, it certainly could've just been the heat between your bodies sustaining the temperature).
It was the first time you'd truly relaxed since a tadpole had taken residence in your mind, the first moment of bliss in days. When his claws found your scalp and scratched against it lightly as he massaged soap into it he earned a thank you in the form of the sweetest moan that just couldn't be held back by your lips. You felt his cock twitch against your back at the sound, an appreciative hum rumbling in his chest.
"My, my…who knew you could sound so melodic, my dear," his tone was best described as a condescending coo, treasuring the way you melted in his hold and couldn't help yourself from being his to play with. "I want to hear much more of you."
One of his hands slipped from your head down to rest on your stomach as the other went even lower to the top of your thigh, pausing still to wait for your reaction. When you leaned your head back against his shoulder and closed your eyes he took his sign, chasing more of a reaction from you by running a single claw softly up your thigh toward your core. The small gasp that fell from your lips wasn't enough, his disapproval noted with a click of his tongue against his teeth. It was impossible to keep silent when one of his fingers connected to your clit, rubbing a swift circle quickly.
The cry that burst from your chest returned the smile to his face, a low laugh filling your ears again as he leaned forward to kiss your neck. Two of his fingers parted your folds as they slipped downward to your entrance, moans falling freely from your mouth you'd forgotten how to close. Taking advantage of the fact he leaned closer to claim your lips, reaching his free hand to hold the back of your head and ensure you couldn't pull away from him.
A dark possessiveness within him considered slipping his fingers into you to feel how your tight walls would grip him, though he knew it meant you would face the consequences of his claws. He could heal you, after all - but you'd always remember the feeling. He'd refrain on that particular thought…
For now.
Instead, he returned his attention to your clit, fingers circling the sensitive nub as his fingers tangled into your hair. He continued to kiss you past what your lungs could take, your eyes opening to attempt to gain his attention. His own eyes remained closed and he only held your head in a firmer grip - no doubt he knew though he couldn't see - and he continued that way until your vision was just starting to blur and your hole was clenching around nothing. Only then did he release you - releasing you fully by pulling his fingers away too - allowing you to take the breath you needed.
So close to the edge of release only to be pulled back away from it. It was a cruelty that made the first sound that left your lips when your breath returned to be a whimper.
"Please," you could barely get the shaking word through your lips, it could hardly be considered speaking when each letter was filled with a whine. "More."
"Now now, you will learn to take what I give you," he cooed, releasing his hold on your head to run the back of his fingers down the side of your face and neck, lightly pushing your head to the side to press a kiss beneath your ear. "With no questions asked. Won't you? You'll have to show me you can be patient."
You couldn't help the whimper that slipped past your lips again, your body singularly focused on its need for more. Your eyes are wide and desperate as you gazed at him, hands reaching to grasp at his thighs and squeeze. "'s not fair…"
Your ears were filled with his boisterous laugh again before he pressed a gentle kiss to your shoulder, allowing his lips to stay against your skin as he spoke.
"Perhaps not for you, but it's perfectly lovely for me," you realized as he spoke that he was having fun, a giddiness in every word that proved it. Unrehearsed, without anger, without practiced intentions. Him. "Finish up in here at your leisure, then join me in the boudoir."
With a snap of his fingers he was gone and the option to beg for more removed you were alone, left to wonder exactly what awaited you when you did join him. The kind of excitement that matched the feelings of fear and anxiety bubbled in your stomach, making your movements a little clumsy as you navigated your way through one last wash of your body.
The feelings remained as you removed yourself from the water, realizing immediately you'd been left with no towel or robe or clothes to utilize on your walk. Feeling a flare of preemptive embarrassment you found your way to the hall, doing your best to navigate quickly as you muttered to yourself.
You were distracted in your search that you didn't notice Haarlep had stalked up to you from the dark after you'd passed until their voice filled your ears. "My, my, aren't you just delicious," he purred, continuing to walk closer toward you when you froze in your tracks. They circled you like a predator circled prey, like a painter studying their subject - it was enough to make your face burn again. "I wouldn't mind slipping into your image for the occasional rendezvous."
"Haarlep."
Their name left your lips as a gasp and they stopped in front of you with a wicked smile, handsome and proud and no doubt every bit as convincing as their Master, if not more. "So you do know me. How flattering."
You were cornered against a wall with one of their forearms resting next to your head, the other grasping your hip in fingers much gentler than the ones they were mimicking. They leaned closer until your lips were brushing together feather light, the anticipation of a kiss lingering heavy in the air and sending your heart rate skyrocketing again.
"Oh, what fun we will have together…"
Their sinful tongue left their mouth to lick the seam of your lips until they fell open, the muscle slipping into your mouth to kiss you fully and hungrily. As you swallowed their spit you started to feel new levels need, the definition of the word insatiable finally grasped in your mind. One of their knees knocked apart your legs as their hand left your thigh, slipping to examine how wet you were and finding their digits slid through your folds with embarrassing ease.
"Mm…but that will be for another time," there was a sincerity in their words that made them so believable and you were certain they were correct about it. "Tonight, your job is to make him a bit more tolerable for the rest of us. Be a good pet and behave, won't you?"
As they sauntered away in a pace that existed to entice you to follow they threw one last wink over their shoulder, pointing you in the direction of where you were meant to go. In a haze you made your way to your destination, opening the doors to find your Patron sitting on the grand bed with glistening satin sheets, lounging back against the headboard with his arms outstretched, waiting for your arrival. He'd covered himself with an expensive robe, the one he'd deprived you of.
The red of its fine fabric matched his burning aura perfectly.
He observed your clumsy movements as you closed the doors with light amusement until the two of you were once again alone, his eyes appreciating your clean form as you walked to the foot of the bed. With a smile he raised a hand to motion you forward with one finger, his features fittingly illuminated by the hellfires that illuminated the room.
He was beautiful. Enticing. This very room could become an easy prison with no locked door if you allowed your resolve to slip.
"Come," he invited in a delicious tone, using one hand to untie his robe and allow it to fall open. He patted his thigh afterward to further elaborate on his instruction, one you were more than willing to follow. "Crawl to me…show me what an obedient, eager little pup you can be."
You did exactly as he told you to, enjoying the feeling of the soft sheets against your skin as you made your way to him. You climbed into his lap and straddled his waist between your thighs, core hovering over his hard and throbbing cock that you now wanted more than logic should reasonably allow. He felt how wet you were when your thighs made contact with his skin, breathing in deep to take in the scent of your arousal.
"My, my, how very eager you are," he spoke of you as if he was being presented with the meal of a lifetime. It made you feel desired in ways you weren't sure you'd be able to experience with anyone else for the remainder of your life. "I have to wonder, did my naughty toy find you along the way?"
You nodded, the only response you found yourself capable of, grinding down against his waist in a way that allowed his length to slip through your folds and spread your slick. His hands grasped your hips to follow your movements, chest vibrating against yours with a quiet purr as he appreciated your movements.
"Oh, of course they did…sometimes they just can't help it, the sinful thing…"
Both of his hands found their way to your thighs to grab them roughly, not making any effort to be mindful about his claws in places it wouldn't seriously hurt you - something that would become a pattern for the rest of your time together. Under his fingertips he could feel the welts that raised as a result of his scratching, smiling a charming smile as he took in your expression.
Finding you perfectly needy for him he reached one hand to grab your jaw and pull you closer, leaving his face hovering inches from yours. His skin was noticeably hotter against yours now, the undeniable evidence that he was just as effected by your closeness as you were his. His other hand gave your ass a swat to encourage you to raise up on your knees again, licking his lips when he could then reach toward your core and run his fingers through your folds again.
It was easier to feel the arousal he - and Haarlep, now - had earned when you weren't submerged in a tub. His fingers took the distance from your hole to your swollen clit painfully slow, matching the deep inhale he filled his lungs with along the way. Lost in how his hands felt against your body again you hardly noticed his tail wrap around one of your legs to hold you against him tighter, ensuring there was no chance of you climbing off before he'd had his fill.
It was hardly something he needed to do, but the implications of it made the experience all the better for him - and for you too.
"Don't forget to speak to me, my dear," he cooed, no annoyance present in his voice though he was hardly happy he had to remind you as he exercised a bit of patience at your current state. "I simply adore hearing the desperation in your words."
"Please, I need…"
Though he'd requested them your words were cut off as he pulled you against him rougher, pressing his throbbing length up into her core as he does. Your sentence quickly turned into a moan, your hands grabbing at his shoulders so you could cling to him in every sense of the word.
"Do go on."
You hated that his taunting tone sent a shiver down your spine and a hot wave of arousal straight to your core. Your desperation flooded every word that came from your mouth. "I need more," you were begging without having to be asked for it, something he would thank you for at a later time. "Something…a-anything you'll give me."
"Anything I'll give you?"
Was that particular choice of words a mistake? You found you couldn't come to a rational answer as you became lost in the embers of his eyes. You nodded, grinding against him to further your consent and ensure the point was driven home - you wanted him in whatever capacity he'd provide, in any way that would earn you more of his favor.
You hadn't realized your lip was quivering and your eyes were slightly watering out of the desperation but he had, soaking in the sight of you so wanton and lustful for him. It was his favorite look on you by far, and he couldn't resist the opportunity to see how truly indecent he could make you behave.
And all for him.
"Then prove to me you deserve it. Prove to me you're worth the effort from me and then I will prove to you that you are mine."
You only leaned closer to entice him the rest of the distance between you. You reached between your bodies with one hand to grasp his cock and rub it through your folds again, lining it up with your entrance and teasing down onto the tip slightly to test what he'd allow. He raised an eyebrow and opened his mouth to express a thought that disappeared as you began to sink onto him, maintaining the eye contact you knew he loved as you moaned out his name quietly. He forgave you when your eyes fluttered closed to focus on taking his length and girth, your forehead falling down against his shoulder as a heavy breath fell from your lips.
"That's it," he was quick to compliment your efforts to ensure you knew how much he appreciated it, hoping the praise would keep you from giving up. "You can take me. Do not get discouraged…"
Your head nodded as another steady breath left your chest, shifting your hips to find the right angle to take him in. Though his words were honied you knew he was hardly the patient type and to avoid a temper change you pushed yourself onto as much of his length as you could take, finally earning a groan from him that was worth the quick shot of pain that being stretched like this brought. One of his arms reached to wrap around your waist and his other hand found the back of your head, cradling you against his form. His wings soon joined, wrapping both of you in privacy and what felt like the ultimate safety.
Within his wings it would be impossible for anyone who entered to see how well you began to ride him after a long adjustment period, how after several minutes of grinding and shifting and allowing him to pump into you you began to take him perfectly. Though he maintained his hold on your head your lips were finding their way to any place they could reach on his neck, chest, and jaw, eagerly nibbling and licking and sucking - testing if you could mark him like he'd undoubtedly mark you.
He decided you were testing him when you bit into him hard, his surprise announced by a grunt and a squeeze from his hand holding your hip. He gave your hair a tug to pull you upward into a hungry kiss, your moans joining together in the room as your hands grabbed his horns to hold him against you.
This is how he wanted you for him forever.
As your tongues danced your movements slowed, his hands meeting on your upper back to press your chest closer to his. Allowing you a partial breath he pulled away from the kiss to watch your face twist in pleasure as his claws dragged slowly down your back, pressing harder the lower they reached as he experimented with what you'd allow. You were eager to prove exactly what he'd requested - you could take what he would give.
His own head dropped to claim one of your breasts in his mouth, his tongue circling your nipple and flicking the nub several times before he changed his efforts to suck hard enough to bruise, glad he could stay here without a real breath for longer than what you may have previously experienced. He only pulled away to bite a mark into the soft flesh that immediately spilled some blood - as you continued to ride him exactly how you liked you either didn't notice or you didn't mind, either of which were fine by him.
"Very good," he purred, remembering how well you normally responded to his praise. He was thanked by a quiet moan and your walls tightening, fluttering around his length as he struck just the right cord in you. "Should I allow you release before I have my way with you?"
You were nodding before his sentence was fully complete and begging incoherently as your face buried into his neck again, continuing to lavish the skin with kisses. Your thighs began to shake at the mere thought of release, at how it would feel to gush around his length and how he would moan feeling you constrict him.
Whatever words he chose to give you permission were not fully understood, only their intent mattered. Though he wanted to pump into you at his own pace he allowed you to find release in this position yourself, happy it didn't take much longer for your walls to clamp around him and your head to throw back in ecstasy, your screams undoubtedly filling every wall in the house despite the closed door.
He held you down on his length as you spasmed through the high, enjoying the feeling of your body against his and focusing on how you felt held in his arms. He was always going to take what he wanted from you after you'd found this release but the longer he soaked in how small you were against his frame the more his own carnal desire began to take over his thoughts, a feral need building that wouldn't be long ignored.
"You have hold of me like an addiction," he breathed out heavy, shifting his hips beneath you - earning a whimper - wondering how much you'd truly be able to take. "So…unh…tight…"
Before you had fully returned to your senses he was pushing you onto your back, staying inside you with little effort and pinning you down with one hand on your stomach. His other hand rested at the base of your throat with his forearm beside your head, and just as your mind began to fathom how dangerous the position you were in was he kissed you slowly, silencing reason once again.
You could feel how sensitive you were as he pumped his length into you a few times - slowly to test your reaction. He pulled away from the kiss to examine your face, finding it filled with pleasure and overstimulation - traces of pain were there but you gave no indication he needed to stop.
"Do you think you can take what I will give you?"
His lips moved against yours sensually as he spoke, and you opened your mouth to answer for only a sob to be released. Instead you just nodded, hoping it would be enough in the circumstances and looking into his eyes with a pleading expression. He pressed a kiss to your bottom lip and pushed every inch you could take into you roughly, earning another sob that was muffled as he bit into your bottom lip enough to cause it to swell. He pulled away from the action with a wicked grin and savored your expression for a moment longer before this position came to an end.
He pulled out of you slowly, moving to stand next to the bed. In your haze you listened to him give you instructions to get on your knees and elbows, instructions you followed hastily on shaky limbs as he stroked his length watching you obey. When you were finally presenting yourself to him exactly how he wanted he mounted behind you, still grasping his length in one hand as his other reached forward to circle your dripping hole with two fingers.
"Precious. I will try not to break you."
His fingers were gone and replaced with his cock swiftly, his restraint gone as he thrusted in as far as he could, still trying to press further when he reached the end and smiling when the most beautiful cry filled the room from you. He groaned out deep as his hand found your stomach, pressing against it to hold you upward, reaching his other hand to slip the fingers that were coated in your slick into your mouth.
"So small beneath me," he breathed out, leaning forward to press a kiss over one of the red welts he'd created on your back. He engulfed you in this position, you were at his complete mercy - all hope of being anything but his ever again gone. He would never give you up. "On your knees for me. Just where you should be."
He forgot to be somewhat gentle with you as he thrust into you at a feral pace - or perhaps he just didn't care how little you were able to move when he was through. He continued to kiss your neck, shoulders, and back in any place he could reach, his teeth marking your skin anywhere he could manage. His claws were just as helpful in regard to marking you, reaching to scratch at your thighs and back - until he focused his hand's attention on your ass, spanking and scratching and grabbing roughly as proved to give him additional leverage as he pounded into you.
He was already obsessed with the way you took him with moans and cries while ensuring you stayed in the position he'd molded you into, eyes transfixed on how your tight hole took his length. When this whole Absolute ordeal was taken care of at your hands, he'd happily take this sight every day.
"Look at you just taking me," his voice was shaking now, matching your legs once again. His hand left your stomach to squeeze your throat, accentuating the fact that you were truly just taking whatever he would give. "And you do it so well, you sweet thing."
Content with how marked you were for him his hands instead grasped your waist in the gentlest grasp he'd offered yet, not quite matching the ferocity at which he pounded into you. Through blurred vision you were half aware of the familiar figure that slipped into the room through the shadows, the incubus unable to keep away witnessing what was filling the House with the irresistible sounds of flesh smacking against flesh.
You didn't know if Raphael noticed - you didn't care. You doubted a complaint would be heard if you offered one, and they would leave after you'd reached your release and they'd heard your euphoria anyway.
(Though you did momentarily hope that sinful tongue they'd offered earlier could be put to a better use, though you knew your body would be spent by then).
"Give me another," he ordered, feeling how your body was tensing up again at the threat of release, eager to feel you snap again. "And I want to hear it…"
He reached to rub your clit again at a speed that matched his thrusts, eager to feel how tight you'd squeeze him when you came undone, already intoxicated by the way your velvet walls were fluttering around his length. He was taking what he wanted from your body at a roughness that would no doubt leave bruises for you to feel on the road to Baldur's Gate - he certainly wouldn't heal marks that were a gift from him covering your back and neck and causing you to walk with a limp that so clearly displayed you had coupled with him.
He let you fall to the bed fully, only finding he was able to pound into you harder as you laid flat on your stomach. Unwilling to have you pass out he grabbed your hair on the back of your head and pulled hard enough to force it back so you could continue to breathe, leaning his torso over yours until he could twist your head and claim your lips in a rough kiss. He was hungry - feral - fully lost in himself as he chased his own pleasure, releasing all inhibition as he found his release. The only warning it was coming was the sloppiness that overtook his thrusts as the end neared, a growl rumbling in his chest as he pulled away from your lips to instead bite into your shoulder.
His seed was molten as it filled you, overflowing past his length. As his release filled your womb his teeth broke your skin and he tasted your blood as he was lost in his pleasure. He'd crave its flavor that was entirely you just as often as he'd crave claiming your womb now, knowing the mark would show you were his.
He continued to pump into you slowly several more times, holding you still as you squirmed and whimpered from the overstimulation, hearing the shake in your breaths and sweet sounds that proved to him you were crying. When he decided to pull out completely his chest shook with a quiet, dark laugh, finding a comfortable position straddling over your ass. His hands were loving in the way a curator's were with art, running over your scratched and bitten back adoringly for several moments, fingertips tracing the marks that would last the longest. He leaned down to press a kiss to a particularly possessive bite mark before removing his weight from you, rolling you to your side to to check that you were still capable of coherency.
You blinked up at him with glassy eyes, tear-stained cheeks proving he had been right about your tears. He leaned to press a single gentle kiss to your forehead as he pulled the blanket over your weak body. Selfish of a creature as he was, he was still capable of some semblance of aftercare - though that was it, it was enough from someone like him to someone like you.
"Well done, my dear. A wonderful demonstration of your devotion to me."
This praise - this tone. The very reason you'd do anything he asked, become anything he needed you to become. Anything he asked of you in a moment like this you'd provide. Part of you wondered how long it would take for him to exploit that fact.
"Next time you've behaved for me I will have Haarlep join us. They can lick my seed clean from you as I watch how you look beneath me."
(You'd think more on that particular promise later, when your mind was capable of wrapping around anything other than Raphael's finger again).
His new tone was undeniable and impossible to ignore, the reverence steeping every syllable enough to drown in them. Appreciation, worship. It was difficult to decide if being beneath him or hearing this newfound depth of praise was more fulfilling. You nuzzled closer to him still just barely conscious, physically submitting to the exhaustion that overtook every inch of yourself.
You nodded your head lazily in agreement before burrowing your face in his neck, enjoying the familiar scent of cherries, musk and sulphur that had come to mean power and protection to you. If you were lucky those sinful notes would linger in your senses in the coming day.
Though he was far from one to cuddle, he wasn't one to complain when presented with any show of mutual adoration from you, and he allowed his tail to drape across your legs in a subtle concession to your own desires.
Beyond that, he was still, but he was content.
"Rest," you were intoxicated with this voice, one you couldn't help but wonder how few beings had heard it, one free of any performance - honest, soft. "You will need it before you continue your journey. When you wake you'll be in camp with your cohorts, and when you reach the city again you will return to me."
In your last moments of consciousness, you remained his eager little pup.
masterlist. baldur's gate III masterlist.
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theostrophywife · 10 months
Note
Hey! I love your work! I was wondering if you could do a Azriel x reader fic where reader doesn’t know a lot about males and so az (maybe he already has a thing for reader) offers to give her lessons? The more NSFW the better 😉
innocence.
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author's note: sorry for being m.i.a. please accept this as my apology gift. largely inspired by this song. you can't tell me that az doesn't have the biggest corrpution kink 😏
it started out innocently enough.
one winter evening after a particularly rowdy wine night, you and azriel laid in a heap at the house of wind, giggling at nothing as the warmth of the alcohol lowered your inhibitions and loosened your lips.
"never?" azriel asked incredulously, his brows creasing in the most adorable way. "you've truly never kissed anyone?"
you pouted, crossing your arms. thanks to cassian and his big mouth, the shadowsinger now knew the true extent of your naivete. growing up in the high priestess's temple in the dawn court, you had devoted much of your life to duty and training, which left little to no room for encounters with the opposite sex.
it never bothered you before. until you moved to the night court and met the shadowsinger. azriel was beyond gorgeous and smart and funny and probably well-versed in the art of seduction, which is more than you could say for your inexperienced self.
"don't tease, az." you groaned, covering your face behind your hands. as if that would hide the flush spreading through your cheeks. "i'm already mortified enough as it is."
"hey," azriel said softly as he gently grabbed your wrists. "it's nothing to be embarrassed about, love."
"you're just saying that to be nice."
the shadowsinger shook his head. "i torture people for a living," he deadpanned. "i am not nice."
you chuckled, which brought a smile to azriel's handsome face. "besides, practice makes perfect. i've seen you go from not knowing how to hold a sword to perfecting the eight point attack in a matter of weeks. kissing should be a piece of cake compared to that."
"kissing and fighting aren't the same thing."
azriel smirked. "it is, if you're doing it right. all it takes is a good teacher." the tips of your ears reddened. “and we all know how fast of a learner you are.”
you snorted. "somehow i doubt that nesta would be into the idea of letting me borrow her mate for lessons." a little frown formed on your face. "or maybe she would. you never know with those two."
the idea formed in azriel's mind before he could think better of it. the shadowsinger hated that he thought of it in the first place, but fuck. you were both a little tipsy and a tiny bit reckless and he'd been crushing on you for far too long and maybe tonight was the night he finally did something about it.
"i could teach you."
you stilled. “what?”
azriel shrugged and put on his most nonchalant expression even though his inner monologue was currently pure turmoil. “i could teach you how to kiss.” he cleared his throat, lowering his gaze to yours. “it might help to practice with someone you’re comfortable with.”
you cocked your head, weighing his words. “you’re…actually serious about this.”
“why wouldn’t i be?”
“well, wouldn’t it make things weird? you’re my best friend. best friends don’t just kiss.”
you had him there. azriel certainly had never offered this unique service to any of his friends before. “i don’t think it’s weird. i think it makes perfect sense. in fact, it’s weird that we’re not kissing right now. best friends kiss all the time,” the shadowsinger deadpanned.
you snorted. “so you and cassian are just having heated little makeout sessions behind me and nesta’s back?”
azriel winked. “i won’t tell if you don’t.”
that earned an earnest little giggle out of you. then you were quiet again, lost in the pros and cons.
pro: you really wanted to kiss azriel.
con: you really wanted to kiss azriel.
what if you were horrible at it? what if you had bad breath? what if you accidentally bit him? what if azriel figured out that you had a pathetic little crush on him and he doesn’t return the feelings and your friendship implodes then you’d have to move back to the dawn court and adopt a bunch of cats just like thesan always teased you about when you were children—
“you’re spiraling.”
you crossed your arms. “am not.”
azriel rolled his eyes fondly. “i can practically see the steam coming out of your ears.” his expression softened as he turned over on the couch, his chin perched in one hand. “you don’t have to if you don’t want to. i just…” the bob of an adam’s apple. “i just wanted your first kiss to be with someone who genuinely cares about you.”
that turned your insides into mush. “oh.”
the shadowsinger’s cheeks reddened. “never mind, it sounds silly now that i’ve said it out loud.”
“it’s not,” you said, sitting cross legged on the sofa. “it’s not stupid, az. it’s really sweet, actually.”
your heart hammered inside of your chest as you faced azriel. his hazel eyes glowed golden under the faelights and a warm flush colored his cheeks a rosy tone. from this close, you could make out the constellations of freckles that kissed his nose and cheeks, its traitorous little trail stopping just above his cupid’s bow. you couldn’t help it. your gaze went straight to his lips. they looked soft, sensual, and perfectly kissable. you wondered if he’d taste like sweet wine.
“y/n?” azriel murmured softly.
“hmm?”
“you’re staring.”
your cheeks reddened and a slight smirk tugged at the corner of azriel’s mouth. “you’re the one who brought up kissing,” you countered, raising a brow. “now i can’t stop staring at your stupid lips.”
the shadowsinger’s smirk grew wider. “my stupid lips,” he repeated. “that you want to kiss.”
“no,” you blurted. azriel raised a knowing brow. “yes. maybe.” you shifted awkwardly. “what if i’m terrible at it? what if i accidentally miss? what if i don’t know where to put my hands? oh my gods, what if i accidentally bite you?”
to his credit, there wasn’t an ounce of judgement on azriel’s face. he’d witnessed your outbursts enough times that he wasn’t even fazed by it. the shadowsinger grabbed your hand and traced soothing circles over your knuckles. “one, no one’s first kiss is great. at best, it’s weird and awkward because you’re just trying to figure it out. that’s kind of the point. two, you won’t miss. just follow my lead. three, the neck or waist are generally safe spots to place your hands.” azriel demonstrated by wrapping your arms around his neck. “lastly, i don’t mind if you bite me. in fact, i might enjoy it.” he gave you a cheeky wink that helped dissipate the rest of your anxious worries.
you chuckled softly. leave it to azriel to make you laugh mid freak out. the shadowsinger smiled and cauldron fucking boil you, the sight of it pretty much sealed your fate.
“so,” you murmured, toying with the loose curls at the nape of azriel’s neck. “what now?”
“that’s entirely up to you, love.”
you blinked. once, twice. the smell of cedar and starkissed night. freckles and rosy cheeks. warm, golden eyes that melted your insides like honey. scarred hands that caressed the side of your face with heartbreaking gentleness.
“kiss me, azriel.”
the shadowsinger did not need to be told twice. he tilted your chin, brushing his nose against yours for a brief moment. azriel took a deep breath like he was savoring the moment, like his entire life had been leading up to this. then he kissed you.
his lips were as soft as freshly plucked rose petals and as sweet as the wine that still coated your tongue. they pressed against yours, gentle and exploring as azriel cupped your cheek. you leaned into him and your fingers found purchase in his silky, dark locks as azriel deepened the kiss. his arm snaked across your back as he pulled you into his lap, his mouth never once leaving yours. the sweet innocent pecks did not stay innocent for long.
the shadowsinger groaned as you nestled into him. there wasn’t an inch of your body that wasn’t pressed against him, but still you wanted more. your hands moves of their own accord and slipped underneath azriel’s cream sweater. his skin felt like a warm summer day despite the fact that it was currently the dead of winter.
“fuck,” azriel growled into your neck.
you pulled away, startled. it didn’t even occur to you that your fingers were as cold as icicles. “shit. sorry, az i didn’t think—“
you slipped your hands out of his sweater, but azriel caught you by the wrist. “no,” he grunted, his voice dark and low and dangerous. “no, don’t stop.”
it was the hottest thing you’ve ever heard in your entire life. even hotter still with the way azriel tugged you to him as though he’d rather die than have you stop touching him. you greedily obliged, taking the lead this time. azriel cursed under his breath as you kissed him again, tangling his curls between your fingers. there was something intoxicating about him—his taste, his touch, his kiss. you couldn’t get enough.
when you finally came up for breath, the shadowsinger looked at you as though he’d been starving for centuries and you’d only really begun to scratch the surface of his hunger. azriel wanted to devour you.
but tonight, he’d settle for a kiss. except, it was anything but.
azriel was fucked.
he blinked, drinking in your lust added gaze and flushed cheeks. you brought your bottom lip between your teeth and it was all he could do to reel himself in. “are…are all first kisses like that?” your voice was hoarse from disuse and utterly sexy.
“no,” azriel answered honestly. “i’ve never had a kiss like that.”
your grin brought out a set of dimples that azriel had long ago deemed as his greatest weaknesses. “and i’ve never had a first kiss, period.”
and you never will again, azriel thought. not if he could help it.
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“does that feel good, love?” azriel asked as he pressed a kiss against your collar bone.
you whimpered as his lips trailed between the valley of your breasts. since that first kiss, you and azriel hadn’t been able to keep your hands off of each other. over the last few weeks, the apprehension you felt about your inexperience slowly started to feel like a blessing in disguise. azriel said you were a fast learner, but only because he was such a great teacher.
“gods,” you breathed, clutching the sheets as azriel continued his descent.
“you can just call me az, you know.”
you rolled your eyes at the cheeky male below you. from this angle, he certainly looked like a god. his hair was a tousled mess, dark curls tangled from where you ran your fingers through it. sweat dripped down his shirtless torso, his golden brown skin glowing in the afternoon light. you were vaguely aware that the sun as setting over the horizon, which meant that the rest of your friends would be arriving for dinner, but neither one of you seemed to care.
during the past few weeks, you and azriel continued your lessons. first base was easy enough to master. the two of you put in plenty of hours sneaking off to make out in azriel’s room, the wine cellar, the training pits, and even in feyre’s art studio at the river house once when things really got desperate. it was a wonder that your friends hadn’t caught you yet. there had been several close calls with cassian. mostly because the male was a nosy busybody.
second base took a little more work. you were terrified at first. you and azriel had been making out in your bed for what seemed like hours before you finally mustered up the courage to slip your hand into his trousers. the shadowsinger made a sound that was half growl and half purr and for a split second you were afraid that you’d hurt him. when you voiced your fears, azriel was quick to reassure you.
“i’m not in pain, love.” azriel said, his voice strained and breathy. “trust me, i feel the complete opposite.”
“tell me how to make you feel good, az.”
the string of curse words that fell from his lips were so filthy that it made you blush. the shadowsinger guided your hand over his cock and you nearly gasped at the impressive length. azriel was hot and hard beneath your touch, his wings flexing as you grasped him in your hand.
“loosen your grip, love.” azriel adjusted your hand, motioning for your fingers to relax and mold against him. you mimicked his movement, eliciting a low rumble out of the shadowsinger. the competitive part of you awakened, eager to make azriel groan like that again. you gazed up at azriel through your lashes with determination. “gods, don’t look at me like that y/n or this lesson will be over before it’s even started.”
heat erupted in your core, but you shook the desire away. this was about azriel. you wanted to make him come undone for once instead of the other way around. “show me, az.” you said. “i want to see how you touch yourself.”
“cauldron boil me,” azriel muttered under his breath. “you’re going to be the death of me, y/n.”
you watched as he gripped himself and pumped at a steady pace. he slowed down the movements for you and you studied each flick of his wrist as though you’d be tested on it later. as sinful as it was, there was something heavenly about watching azriel stroke himself. your hands itched to touch him. once you felt confident enough, azriel let you take over.
azriel’s eyes rolled back as you pumped his shaft, carefully watching the rise and fall of his chest. his heavy breathing filled the room and it quickly became your favorite sound in the world.
you felt a strange rush of power witnessing azriel in such a vulnerable state. his lids were heavy with lust, golden eyes barely visible from the ring of onyx swallowing up his irises. you thought he looked pretty like this, his head tilted back against your headboard while his lips parted to release a shallow breath every now and then.
"you have no idea how good that feels, love." azriel grunted. you tightened your grip, spreading the bead of precum over his tip. your little improvisation was met with a moan that seeped into your bones.
"how good, az?" you teased.
those long lashes of his kissed the tops of his cheeks as his eyes fluttered close. "fucking amazing," azriel declared. "keep going, love. don't stop, please. gods—"
"you can just call me y/n, you know."
azriel growled in response before pulling you in for a heated kiss. his hips thrust up to match your pace as his tongue parted your lips. he swallowed your moans, devouring you like his life depended on it.
“just like that, love.” azriel said in appreciation. “you’re doing such a good job, y/n.”
the praise affected you more than you thought it would. you were always seeking positive feedback when it came to your work, especially in training, but this was something else. it only encouraged you to keep going at a faster pace until azriel was coming undone in your hands. the sight of him losing control would forever be etched in your mind.
the more azriel gave, the more you craved. not just physically, but mentally and emotionally as well. the whole thing may have started as a practical way to tackle sex, but as time went on, it started to evolve into something else entirely.
until the lessons weren’t really just lessons anymore.
if you had to pinpoint the moment when everything changed, it would have been a few days after winter solstice. azriel had been away for a mission and was unable to make it home for the festivities. throughout the night, you kept finding yourself fidgeting and glancing at the empty seat beside you. at one point during dinner, cassian squeezed your hand and smiled sadly.
“i’m sure he misses you too, y/n.”
the gravity of those words hit you full force when you found azriel standing in the doorway of your flat. he was still dressed in his combat leathers and dark circles formed underneath his eyes as though he’d flown nonstop from wherever he was to get back home. before you could stop yourself, you rushed at him and nearly knocked him into the street from the force of your hug.
“i know, love.” azriel murmured softly into your hair. “i missed you, too.”
one bath and two cups of hot chocolate later, you found yourself curled up on the sofa as snow fell softly against the windowpane. you set your drink down on the table and turned to face azriel.
“so, i was thinking…”
the corner of azriel’s mouth quirked. “that’s never good.”
you tossed a pillow at him and rolled your eyes. “i was thinking that maybe it’s my turn to teach you a lesson, for once.”
the shadowsinger looked intrigued by that. “oh yeah? and what do you want to teach me, love?”
“i’m going to teach you how to sleep, az.” you pointedly stared at his bruised eyes, which only made him chuckle in amusement. “because judging from those bags underneath your eyes, you’re no expert in the matter.”
“i don’t get a say in this, do i?” shadows peered over his shoulders as though they too yearned for rest.
“nope,” you said cheerfully, dragging him off the couch and into your bedroom.
azriel let you bully him into getting underneath the covers. he tucked his wings to the side as he faced you. “what’s so great about this thing you call sleep, then? seems pretty boring to me.”
“well if you’d let me demonstrate,” you said impatiently before tugging him towards you. azriel chuckled and scooted closer. “i’ll have you know i’m a world class cuddler.”
“yeah? prove it then, love.” azriel teased.
the shadowsinger watched in amusement as you bossed him around. first you made him lie on his stomach and then pulled him to your chest. as much as he enjoyed teasing the absolute hell out of you, he couldn’t help but murmur in satisfaction as he rested his head in the crook of your neck. even his shadows seemed to enjoy bathing in your warmth and breathing in your jasmine shampoo.
“mmm,” az mumbled sleepily. for the first time in gods knew how long, he felt warm and safe and content. “you’re bossy as hell, but comfy too.”
“i know, you stubborn giant bat baby.”
the shadowsinger snorted. “giant bat baby?”
you rolled your eyes fondly. “shut up and cuddle, az.”
azriel burrowed himself further until his body heat warmed every inch of your skin. “that’s the good stuff,” he declared, brushing a soft kiss against your collarbone.
“told you i was good,” you said with a smile. azriel couldn’t even argue. with your hands massaging his scalp and your legs intertwined with his, the shadowsinger would’ve agree to anything you said.
“the best,” he hummed against your skin.
this was dangerous territory. with your other lessons, it was easy to shove aside your feelings because pleasure made it hard to think about anything else. but with azriel laying on your chest and clinging onto you like this meant something more…you could no longer avoid that pesky voice of doubt.
you were in love with azriel.
you had been for a long time.
shit.
“y/n?” azriel asked, cutting through the turmoil of your thoughts. his wings draped over the sides of your bed, relaxed and at ease.
“yeah?”
his golden eyes found yours in the dark. for a second, he stared at you like he was trying to commit every detail to memory. the shadowsinger opened his mouth like he was going to say something important, but he gave a tiny shake of his head and smiled.
“good night, love.”
in that moment, you knew azriel had your heart in the palm of his hand. “good night, az.”
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azriel knew it was only a matter of time before these lessons came back to bite him on the ass.
he had been so eager that first night. mostly because he'd had a crush on you for so long and it was finally time to do something about it. the shadowsinger knew that he probably should've just told you how he felt, but he didn't want to shatter this delicate thing between you.
after all, these were just lessons. for all he knew, he was just your practice partner. it wasn't really all that different from sparring. except your weapons where your lips and your hands and your fucking smile that made his heart skip a beat every time you so much as grinned at him from across the room.
gods, he was so fucked.
the reality of it didn't fully hit him until that disastrous spring night.
the two of you had perfected third base eons ago. azriel knew how to make you cum with his mouth using a combination of expert tongue flicks and help from his shadows. nothing brought him joy like your shaking legs greedily wrapping around him as he ate your pussy like a man starved.
azriel thought he found the key to happiness until you returned the favor and went down on him.
finding restraint was hard. reeling his desire in while you knelt before him with your lips wrapped around his cock was nearly impossible.
"like this?" you asked, licking a stripe along the underside of his cock. azriel thought he was going to come right then and there when you looked up at him through your lashes, determination burning in your gaze.
you had always been intense. azriel knew that much from months of training together, but he didn't expect you to approach sex with the same competitiveness. you put your all into everything you did, which is what made azriel fall for you in the first place. he just didn't think you'd take the same approach when it came to sucking his dick. not that he was complaining.
in fact, all he could really do was moan.
the shadowsinger attempted to pull it together long enough to utter a coherent sentence. he had to at least attempt to say something helpful. you were putting your trust in him. he liked knowing that he'd been your first everything. now he just had to muster up the courage to tell you that he also intended to be the last.
he tried. he really did.
that night in his room. laying in bed with your legs tangled together. the soft spring breeze billowing through your curtains. azriel watched as you propped yourself up on your elbows and turned towards him.
"so, what now?" you asked.
azriel's brows furrowed with confusion. "what do you mean, love?"
you tilted your head, biting down on your bottom lip as you mulled over what to say next. it was one of your many little quirks that azriel adored. "i mean, what happens now? we've pretty much covered all the bases. except for one."
sex. you hadn't had sex yet. azriel knew this would come up sooner or later, but he had hoped it would be the latter. while it was easy to pretend that the lessons were just lessons to him, azriel couldn't do that with sex. it had always been hard for him to separate his feelings from the physical act and as much as he wanted to make sure that your first experience would be with someone who loved you, it wouldn't be fair to have sex without telling you the truth.
"i don't think that would be a good idea." as soon as the words left his mouth, azriel knew it was the wrong thing to say. he could tell that much from the look on your face. "i just mean, we shouldn't rush into anything."
"rush?" you asked incredulously. "azriel, we've spent the last three months doing anything and everything under the sun except sex."
"and it's been great," azriel said, trying to reel the conversation back in. "the lessons. trusting each other. but i just think you should take a step back and consider if you're truly ready."
that intense gaze he loved so much suddenly felt like the sweltering sun that azriel couldn't wait to shy away from. "you were my first kiss, az. my first everything. i think i've made it pretty clear on where i stand." you paused for a second, scanning his face. "oh my gods. i didn't even think to ask if you wanted this."
you were up before the absurdity of that statement could sink into azriel. if he wanted this? he'd never wanted anything more in his entire life.
"they were just lessons," you murmured to yourself while gathering your clothes. “how could i be so stupid?”
"y/n, please." azriel pleaded, not entirely believing what he was hearing. he nearly tripped over his own bedsheets as he followed you across the room.
“no, az. i’m sorry, i thought—“ your eyes brimmed with tears. the sight broke his fucking heart. “it’s not your fault. i just assumed—“
“that i’m in love with you?” azriel asked, gently gripping your wrists. you froze, wide eyes pinning azriel in place. “because i am, you know. i’ve been in love with you since the moment we met. this past few months, it’s killed me to pretend that whatever this is between us is just lessons.”
your gaze softened. “why didn’t you ever say anything?”
azriel chuckled bitterly. “because i’m a coward. i was scared that you might not feel the same way, so i settled for whatever scraps you were willing to give me.”
tears filled your eyes again and azriel was scared he’d fucked it up again, but you wiped your cheeks and cupped his face. “you deserve more than that, azriel.”
“i know, love.” he bowed his head. “and you deserve more than just lessons. that’s why i don’t want to have sex. not unless you know what this means to me. if we do this, there will be no one else. not today, not ever. i may be your first, but i also intend to be your last. if you’ll let me.”
a stray tear fell down your cheek, but it was a happy one this time. “if you haven’t noticed, i’m totally crazy about you, az. i think i’ve been in love with you longer than i wanted to admit.”
“can’t blame you,” the shadowsinger said. “i’m totally lovable.”
you smacked him in the chest, but azriel only laughed before he kissed you. really kissed you. it felt like you were floating on air.
gods, you loved him. you really did.
you smiled into the kiss. “i love you, az.”
the shadowsinger kissed the tip of your nose. “i love you too, y/n.”
“so…no more lessons, right?”
azriel shook his head and scooped you into his arms. “no more lessons. i want the real thing this time.”
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ferrstappen · 1 year
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loving him is red l Charles Leclerc Imagine
a/n: it’s been YEARS since I've written something but I have too many ideas and time so I'll give it a try again <3 any feedback is appreciated and than you for reading <3
also, of course the only song I could think of is Red by Taylor Swift (taylor’s version ofc)... I mean... how could I not?
genre: fluff.
Pairing: Charles Leclerc x female singer!reader.
summary: Charles’ girlfriend receives her first Grammy for Song of the Year, sadly enough the inspiration behind the song isn’t able to make it to the ceremony.
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“This feels so wrong, I should be there to support you... You’re always here for races and shit” Charles said while watching her get ready on a fancy hotel room, meanwhile he was stuck in Maranello. 
“Please don’t, it’s pre-season and all that, you know they needed you there today. Plus, I'll be home by tomorrow so we can celebrate... or you can console me since I'm probably losing anyway.” (Y/N) quietly said the last part while sipping some expensive sparkling wine her assistant brought to the room. 
“You are not losing! Babe, how many times do I need to tell you that?” Charles sounded truly exasperated with his girlfriend, like he truly had told her many many times. 
Truth be told, she never thought she would be considerate at all. Yes, her label had submitted her second album and the first single of the record, but they were almost obligated to do so, it was an unspoken rule in the music industry that you just had to do the entire “for your Grammy consideration” portfolio if you wanted to be taken seriously, but (Y/N) never really thought the song she first released from her album would be such a hit. 
Honestly, they just were words her heart could think of whenever she saw Charles, because he truly was red... In the way he wore the color so proudly, from the way his car was always a shiny red even when he was driving it in the driest of the deserts, to the way he loved her so passionately, fearlessly and undoubtedly... He was red. 
It never made sense to her that millions around the world would mix her lyrics on Ferrari t-shirts or that fans would wait for Charles on the stands with bright red lyrics of the song. 
He loved it, by the way. He would flush a bright red whenever someone on the grid teased him about it, pretended he was shy about everyone knowing those words were for him, but his heart would sing a little every single time he listened or read the verses meant for him, just as he would make sure the camera would capture your cute face over FaceTime when he got a podium and you couldn’t be here, or how he made sure to tell you his best joke when you’d arrive to the paddock holding hands, loving the way the photographers captured your laugh and the glint in his eyes just by being the reason of your smile. 
He had the superior relationship and he just knew it, and he made sure the rest of the word knew it as well. 
“So, are you finally going to show me the dress?” Charles said while putting his headphones on to ignore the world outside of his driver’s room.
She cheekily smiled. “No, not really” She told him, earning a dissatisfied groan from him.
“Then when do you want me to see it? On TV like the rest of the world?” He argued, his accent getting thicker.
“Actually yes, that’s exactly what I was thinking.” (Y/N) was going to keep talking, but her assistant let her know the dress had just arrived and they needed her full attention. 
“No, I heard that! You can mute me and I’ll just watch over here!” Charles pleaded, earning a heartily laugh from her girlfriend. 
“I’m so sorry, bebé. I have to go, but you can watch me on TV though!”
Charles sighed, unable to hide his grin. “You know I'll be glued, I don’t care about the time or anything,” even through his noise-cancelling headphones he could hear a big commotion outside his room, meaning someone would come knocking on his door soon. He took a deep breath before focusing his eyes on his muse again. “I love you so much, chérie. I’m so proud of you and whatever happens tonight doesn’t change that. Please whatever you need I'll have my phone at all times, I’m capable of stoping the car in the middle of nowhere and you know it,” they both laughed. “I’m right there with you, I love you.”
She repeated the same words over and over again, feeling a bit numb as several people helped her fitting the red Maison Valentino dress to perfection. It was a whirlwind from there, the last glance she took of herself in the mirror was to make sure the small prancing horse shaped stud earrings, a nod to her man watching on tv.
As if writing a Grammy nominated song and almost an entire album about him wasn’t enough...
Her hands couldn’t help the tingling on the palm of her hands, her body knowing she was missing her other half; he always needed to fix his tie or style a stubborn strand of hair, and it always calmed her nerves to take care of him. 
Back in Italy, Charles was anxiously watching the TV in front of him, some friends, including Carlos, were sitting around the living room, mindlessly chatting about some of the artists performing on the Grammys, what were the plans for the night, the next Real Madrid game...
But Charles eyes were trained on his girl smiling in front of the TV, feeling giddy as she gracefully walked down the carpet on her silky red dress, eyes shining and smile intoxicating. 
The night flew by and Charles swore he could feel your hand squeezing his as they announced the category he had been waiting for. Harry Styles was on the stage with the envelope.
Everything went by so quickly, Charles didn’t notice his friends had shut up and were with their eyes trained on the TV. They all collectively gasped when the brit announced Red by (Y/N) as the song of the year. 
Then it was just noise; from the TV, from people cheering on the theatre as she hid her face on the palm on her hands, to the living room where Charles had rose to his feet hugging everyone around him.
To anyone on the outside it would’ve seemed like their country had won the World Cup. 
“God, I don’t know how to begin,” She shakily said while holding the gramophone. “I know I’m supposed to say that this is for my fans and my label and everyone who believed in me, and it is but...” She smiled to herself. “This is for you, the inspiration behind every word, every verse, every note. My incredible boyfriend who makes my heart sing and my life happy. They haven’t invented the words to tell you how much I love you,” She could feel tears building on the corner of her eyes, until she saw a stage producer informing she only had ten seconds left to wrap up her speech. “God, just ten seconds? Thank you so much to everyone, Char I love you with my entire heart, and thank you to everyone for this I’ll always have this moment in my heart, even after I’m gone I’m sure this is gonna be engraved. Thank you!”
The camera captured her glistening eyes as she smiled through the lens. Charles had unshed tears as his heart was beating loudly. Only seconds passed until his phone was vibrating with an incoming FaceTime call. 
“So... Did you like the red dress?” She joked and he laughed through the unshed proud tears. He never knew he could feel so much pride and love for another person. 
He chuckled. “I loved it, and I love you so much words cannot explain. Fuck, how come I wasn’t there?”
Their love was red.
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absolutebl · 1 month
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This Week in BL - The Industry is Having Issues But the Spice Spicy Must Flow
Organized, in each category, with ones I'm enjoying most at the top.
March 2024 Wk 4
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Ongoing Series - Thai
Two Worlds (Thurs IQIYI) eps 1-2 of 10 - One of those "he's dead Jim so time travel" thingames starring MaxNat. I'm over this concept but I do enjoy MaxNat. Phupha (Gun) and Khram (Nat) love each other but Phupha is murdered. Then Khram is pulled to a parallel world where, years ago, Khram and Tai (Max) were in love. However, Khram was killed by Tai’s dad. Now Tai finds alter-Khram. But then there is ALSO an alter-Phupha to deal with. (Phupha is played by Gun Thanawat who was Khom, the repressed butler bodyguard from Unforgotten Night. We like this, but we scared of the love triangle aspect.) Did that make sense? Yeah, okay, see what I mean?
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Initial thoughts?
The subs are troubling but I’m enjoying this show a lot. It’s nice to see MaxNat get something meaty to sink their teeth into - that’s not just each other. Also it’s so smart of them to give us a fully fleshed out entire episode developing the alter romance rather than just a separation + death. It makes Khram’s grief and motivation that much more believable. Also it’s really nice to see Nat have good chemistry with other actors. 
Deep Night (Thurs iQiyi) ep 3 of 8 (10?) - I'm still enjoying it. But Two Worlds is objectively better. So this one has lost ranking. Also, unexpectedly chili (the name of my heavy metal Thai cover band).
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Lovey switchy and verse main couple too.
This is all quite pleasing.
The bit where the hosts pretend to be a BL couple actor ship was epic on so many levels.
Also unsettling.
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All sex work is performative, and in a way there is something more honest about this depiction, in this setting, than what BL actors are made to do on the promo circuit. Which then begs the question, how different is BL from sex work? That's the unsettling bit, for me anyway. Not to slam on sex work AT ALL, we pro-the-true-pros on this damn blog, but actors have been shaded by association with True Professionals for a very long time and BL has already had one epic shut down in this regard. (See the PerthSaint scandal around Love By Chance, no I will not explain.) Where was I? Oh yes, so anyway, see the Gossip section for the part where they better be paid either way!
Also, since I'm a warped fucker, I found this scene funny.
And then hilarious when all of those BL tropes were just trotted out. Like a greatest hits reel.
Truly beyond meta. (How Absolute BL of them.)
Note he’s even standing in yaoi's patented "hands in pocket with the shoulders back"? 
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Meanwhile, the gayest bridge in Thailand made its quarterly appearance:
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And lip serviced was paid to the most touristy romantic things you can do in Bangkok.
And I mean lip service literally. 
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To Be Continued (Thai C3 Thailand grey) ep 5 of 8 - I’m still enjoying it but getting more and more nervous. We getting too close to Promise territory for comfort. EXPLAIN Ji’s reticence well and do it now or risk audience mistrust. We have to be given a GOOD reason for Ji's behavior, or he'll be irredeemable.
City of Stars (Fri iQIYI) ep 8 of 12 - NO SINGING. Yes smiley kisses and good communication and a nice healthy relationship. But no singing!
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1000 Years Old ep 6 of 12 - Dropping in the ranks. I’m sorry it’s just gotten boring. It has, however, inspired me to invest in my own ridiculous cream fuzzy sweater. Which I plan to wear with leather trousers and huge stumpy boots, like the Kpop queer I truly am. Or do I mean vampire? 
Kiseki Chapter 2 (Sun iQIYI) ep 1 of 6 - Seems to be an excuse for a small posse of Thai actors to wander around Tokyo playing tourist and sing in public . Someone stop them?
“Most people think this kind of thing is bad manners .”
Anyway, it’s v boring. I’ll give it one more ep but I suspect I’ll DNF.
Close Friend Season 3: Soju Bomb! (Weds iQIYI) eps 1-2 of 6 - Meh. This is also looking suspiciously DNF-a-licious.  
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Ongoing Series - Not Thai
Unknown (Taiwan Tues Youku YouTube & Viki) ep 5 of 11 - It's brilliant. I love it. I'm ready to hurt. Let’s do this thing. 
Distribution note: This one has been picked up and is also airing on Viki now, so it may lose YT distribution in soem territories. I like Youku's hard subs better than Viki's subs, but that's a matter of preference not information since I don't speak Mandarin.
Love is Better the Second Time Around AKA Koi wo Suru nara Nidome ga Joto (Japan Weds Gaga) ep 3 of 6 - It is good. Every week I like this show a little more. I'm enjoying a reunion romance explored in Japan's quintessentially contemplative yet slightly surreal way. The juxtaposition of the tenderness of the sex scene with this Japanese brand of authenticity was oddly elegant - for lack of a better way of putting it. All in all, this is a good show. Thought provoking. Stylish.
AntiReset (Taiwan Fri Viki/Gaga) ep 9 of 10 - It remains lovely but they sure are reusing a lot of footage. Also, this was a classic penultimate doom episode. I do wonder how they are going to resolve this show ethically.
My Strawberry Film (Japan Thurs Gaga) ep 6 of 8 - It is what it is, and it isn’t my style of show no matter what country of origin. Oddly that's one of the reasons I don't like it. Anyone could have made this, it's not as Japanese as I want it to be, it's just indie film club high school angst. Yawn.
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I watched it, finally
The Servant and the Young Master (Vietnam YouTube) 7 eps - I dislike vertical filming, but I kind of enjoyed this show as a BL. I like class conflict romances. For me the rich kid is a bit too dictatorial (edges into bulling), but it’s kinda works. It’s sparse and underdeveloped and a bit plotless, but mildly entertaining. If you're missing Vietnamese BL you might give it a try. 6/10 
Began Beginning (Myanmar YouTube) 8eps - A Burmese BL that I had thoughts about but actually ended up recommending. Read the saga here:
It's done, ready to binge, but I suck
What Did You Eat Yesterday Season 2 AKA Kinou Nani Tabeta? Season 2 (Japan Gaga) 10 eps
It's airing but...
Graduation Countdown (Taiwan YouTube) ep 1 of ? - on one hand it's micro-installment vertical, on the other it's adorable and from Taiwan. I blame @heretherebedork entirely for my conundrum. As indeed, I did for My Type back in the day. (That was Nat Chen's first BL, yes of Kiseki: Dear To Me fame.) So I think I will also simply lean on Here to let me know when it's done and binge all at once. It's just too much to ask me to keep up with 2 minute pieces, I don't have that kind of endurance training, not even for BL.
Time the series (Tue Gaga/YT) 10 eps - it's finished now, I dropped it at ep 4. Should I bother?
A Secretly Love (Thai Sat WeTV grey) 10 eps - I watched the first ep but grey is too much work for this inferior of a show. I may pick up and binge if it gets distribution but for now, it gets a DNF from me. KimCop might have held this crap together but Kim without Cop? No thank you.
Lady Boy Friends (Thai WeTV grey) 16 eps - reminds me a bit too much of Diary of Tootsies only high school. Not my thing. DNF unless it turns a corner and is truly amazing for some reason.
Man Suang that MileApo vehicle from last year is coming to Netflix in the USA. I haven't heard much about it and since the KP stans would have lost their tiny minds if it was any good at all, I'm assuming it's not good at all.
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Gossip
Thai BL actor Yoon breaks with his former company and talks about some very very VERY shady goings on in the Thai BL industry. Including not being paid.
And whacha know, same thing happening in Korean BL.
Have I mentioned recently how much I hate the film industry?
Next Week Looks Like This:
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Starting Soon
3/31 Only Boo! (Thai GMMTV YouTube) 12 eps - New main couple for GMMTV in an idol romance about a boy who dances good and a food stand vendor. Other side of the tracks grumpy/sunshine pair who fall deeply in love but, of course, baby boy idol can't date. Boyband but from GMMTV? Control your singing and I'm game.
4/1 Love is like a Cat (Korea ????) 12 eps - This completed filming Aug 2022(!) which means there have been serious problems with post-production. This is another of Silkwood's Korean+Thai colab projects. Mew Suppasit plays a rookie film star, called the Cat Prince (for his cold arrogance) who goes up against a charismatic puppyish animal daycare director (JM of JUST B). There is also a side romance (love triangle?) with a veterinarian. Geonu of JUST B is also in the cast.
I wonder if this was part of the hold up, with Geonu on Build Up right now, they might have tried to muffle this one. Or maybe it's just that bad...
4/3 We Are (Thai GMMTV YouTube) 12 eps - University ensemble BL featuring PondPhuwin, WinnySatang, AouBoom, MarcPawinPoon - basically the good kind of messy gay friendship group (so more My Engineer and less Only Friends). Looks a bit like the Kiss series but everyone is queer. I'm IN!
Knock-Knock Boys (Thai WeTV?) - 4 college friends conspire to help their friend lose his virginity. Familiar faces like Seng (yes, Billy's previous partner), Best and frest face, news here.
Upcoming BLs for 2024 are listed here. This list is not kept updated, so please leave a comment if you know something new or RP with additions.
NOTE: It looks like one of my personal favorites of last year Unintentional Love Story is getting a spin off!
THIS WEEK’S BEST MOMENTS
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Without ghost girl.
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With ghost girl.
I think she may be my favorite part of 1000 Years.
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CLASSIC tsundere seme description of a sunshine uke. Like classic'est of classic. (Two Worlds)
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Is there such a thing as a tired trope in a BL? Since it is a genre that is made up entirely of tropes quilted together? Your philosophical question for today brought to you by Deep Night's kabedon (Japanese trope) + punishment threat (Thai trope).
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Love me a lap sit moment. (City of Stars)
(Last week)
Streaming services are listed by how I (usually) watch, which is with a USA based IP, and often offset by a day because time zones are too much work.
The tag BLigade: @doorajar @solitaryandwandering @my-rose-tinted-glasses @babymbbatinygirl @babymbbatinygirl @isisanna-blog @mmastertheone
If ya wanna be tagged each week leave a comment and I will add you to the template. Easy peesy.
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controld3vil · 2 days
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invisible strings
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pairing(s): dune 2 cast x actor!reader (platonic)
synopsis: requested/inspired by this ask!
⤷ alt: coincidences are strange. however, what's more strange was not knowing you were in previous works with your costars.
notes: this one is pretty short. reader is gender neutral. set in the same verse as popcorn bucket (♡´౪`♡)
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Ding!
"Ah I don't think you guys are going to get this one," you puffed, eyes trailing down to the question on the Vanity Fair card. The cast and you were playing the Vanity Fair Game Show for a fun video. You all eventually filmed with one another at some time during production. Though your schedules were all over the place/locations, everyone got along with each other. That is to say, some like yourself had been in the first film and kept in contact for the sequel. "What was my first show audition?"
Mumbles in unison scurried. Some hums and thought-provoking nods were seen as you hurriedly scribbled down your answer in black ink.
"Oo Shake It Up!" Zendaya points out, eyes wide with her quick response.
Austin Butler who sat beside Florence Pugh raised his head, almost surprised. "Wait, really?" While the blonde actress knowingly glances back to you for confirmation. The rest of the cast was all too eager to know because clearly they had no idea.
"Yes, correct!" You raised your arms, doing jazz hands. In a burst of energy, the mixed actress scores a bright grin, raising her fist in the air in victory. Only for you to pump her fist back, smiling back.
"How were we supposed to know that?" Timothee Chalamet says, snickering accusatively at the camera as if they had an answer. His gaze moves towards you, "You never told us that!"
You shrugged your shoulders, looking half guilty. "You're lost, pal!"
"At least I got the point!" Zendaya puffs up her chest, swiping the invisible dust off her shoulders while Florence giggles. However Timothee looked almost offended even.
"Wait you were in Shake It Up?" Austin shakes his head in pure astonishment. You gave him a slow nod, as his expression grew wider, eyes staring at you in awe. "That's crazy! I didn't know that!"
"Was it a show?" Josh Brolin's comment seemingly pops in and all four of the younger cast including yourself snickered shortly. His cluelessness only substituted for better curiosity to you. As really, you never really told them about your previous works.
"It was a Disney show," Flipping the Vanity Fair card over, only to reveal your messy handwriting, you stated fondly. Timothee then hastily pointed at the small drawing you drew next to your answer. It breaks your concentration for a second as he only stares at it in confusion while Zendaya covers her mouth from giggling. "Like a sitcom really. And I played one of the background dancers." Even you couldn't stop yourself from giggling further, taking a look at your draw.
Truly it was one of those topics that are never mentioned around you. The only reason Zendaya had known was that you had told her once about it when discussing your dance careers. The both of you were young actors and did not expect to know each other back then and even now. Though it was a cute recollection to look back upon.
"Is that a stick figure waving his arms?" Florence cocks her head sideways, having a concentrated face.
"He's supposed to be dancing!" You plead, pointing at the way you drew his arms in the air.
"That is not dancing!" Timothee's smile only grew wider from laughing too much, having to lean forward to look at the little drawing closer. "He just looks- like he's discombobulated!"
"PFFTT!"
"I mean it's a cute drawing!"
"You know what- you don't appreciate my art," You gently placed the card on the floor, giving your costar the stink eye. "I thought this was a fun game, you guys! People are being bullied for no reason!"
"No- I'm not saying your drawings are bad!" The French actor stumbles, in beats of laughter, clenching his cards to his chest. You only swat his presence away before grabbing another question.
In another instance, Austin takes his turn. For a few rounds, he asked about his hobbies, such as what instruments he knew to play. It was quick flashed answers, one by one you managed to pass through flying colors.
"Guitar and piano," Austin bobs his head, as the rest of cast suddenly became enamored at his musical skills.
"Hey!"
"Alright!"
"But also violin," He says sheerly, scratching the back of his neck.
"Oh okay!" Florence drags out an amused hum, in a teasing manner.
"Is that true?" Timothee quirks his brow, having one leg over another, looking all composed.
"Yeah."
"Okay, let's go Disney Channel kids!" You chanted, with the mixed actress a seat away from you joined with as well. You both raised your hands in victory while Austin looked away and blushed.
"We got all the talent!"
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At the CCXP Panel in Brazil, fans from all over came to attend to fantastic event. Hosted by Collider Interview, it was a massive event with an enormous stadium, fit for a band performance. There were arrays of lights, standing from the alleyways and above the ceiling. You felt extremely fortunate to have attended and made it to Brazil, for being such a joyful experience.
This time you alongside your young cast members and director, Denise Villeneuve, posed happily with all of you. The panel followed with many turns and twists, with questions coming from the crowd and host alike. One moment fans caught on was your reaction to something that Florence at said.
The Collider host mentioned Florence's history of working with Timothee on Little Women which made both of them cackle, reminiscing those dotting moments.
"Oh you know what," the British actress starts, holding her hand up. The audience was silenced, wondering what she going to mention next. She slowly turns in your direction and points. "I just remembered this, but you were in Midsommar yes?"
"Yes..." You mumbled, ending your answer on a high note, unsure really what she meant. Until it came flashing back to you, much prevalent to your shocked expression. "Oh yes yes!" And seemingly the rest of the cast and fans were roaring in surprise and in cheer.
Though you weren't present in most of the film's production, Florence had fond memories of Midsommar. You were one of the minor characters doomed to death in the first half. Both of your characters had a brief meeting together and that was all. However, it surprised you how Florence was able to recall it all. You had only filmed for a few days and vaguely met her casually.
"This is so weird but I don't know- I just kept forgetting to bring it up," She scrambles to find the right words, throwing gestures back and forth. "But for some reason, I just remembered you being there and then I was like- huh! We were in Midsommar together!"
"Right!" You lowered your tone, the weight on your heels slowly shifting to one side. As you licked your lips at the revelation. "I can't believe we just realized this now!" And you could discern the pure chaos the rest of your costars were feeling. Timothee was wheezing, desperately holding his mic for support. While Zendaya crossed her arms in a mixture of sarcasm and odd mischievousness. As if saying, Really? You guys never realized?! Austin on the other hand, solely was observing from the sidelines, with an amused smile. And all for Denny to be panned to the right with a funny disapproving look on his face.
"This is what I have to deal with," Your director somberly states and the crowd cries out in cackles.
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"I don't think we were in anything together before."
No interview or video was being shot. Surprisingly it was lunchtime and a grace period for cast and production alike to go back to their trailers to rest. You did not want to go back to your own trailer so instead followed your costar to his. Knowing he had a better air conditioner and wanted to catch up on anything new you guys enjoyed talking about.
But more importantly, his air conditioner.
"Yeah, I don't think we did," Arms securely behind your head as you leaned back on the couch. You still were in full costume, in Fremen wear however it did not stop you from lounging around in every corner of the set sites. "Does Dune count?"
A light-hearted scoff escapes from Timothee, who is on his phone on the other side of the couch, in costume as well. The air conditioner was blasting heavily on all sides of the trailer yet you two did not mind the loud background noise. "No, it doesn't!"
"That's crazy right?" Lifting yourself up to look at him. His eyes don't leave his phone screen yet you know he is focused on your words. "I'm genuinely surprised we haven't played siblings,"
"We look nothing alike!" He shouts, finally lifting his gaze to your playful one. Suddenly you see his phone flash turned on as it faces you. "So, what do you think of Dune Part Two so far?"
You get up swiftly, stretching out of your tired limbs in the process. "Like a walk on the sand!"
"Aye!" He fist-bumps you as he turns the camera on him, face not covered in any gear. The audience can notice his messy locks and smudged face.
"Directors, sign us up to play something!" You waved before adjusting to put on your mask. The camera swerves to find you clipping on the clasps. A couple clicks can be heard as you move the gear up and down from your face. "Literally anything! I could play his serial killer and I would be happy."
"What-" Timothee almost choked on air, prominent to how shaky the camera view became. Though he quickly recovered, "Why do you always want to kill me in these scenarios?"
"Because it's much more fun!" You whine, shoulders deflating, as you can feel him zooming in on your expression.
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crepesuzette2023 · 5 months
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Hi! Because someone just asked me, I'd love you hear your Top 5 favourite McLennon fics!
You made my day! Nothing could have made me happier than this ask.
I'm not going to evade your question. I will post my top-five, even though it hurts to choose. But you inspired me to finally write a longer (okay: very long) post about some (not nearly all!) of my favorites, which will be under the cut.
(Sorry for not knowing every writer's tumblr, by the way. Please feel free to let me know, so I can tag authors where appropriate. Thank you!)
My Top 5:
MIRACLE WORKER by @scurator. What can I say. Every time I need my heart broken and to feel an inkling of what grace truly means, I go to this masterpiece about Paul and Robert Fraser finding each other again at Cavendish in 1981.
COAST STARLIGHT by bookofapril is "Miracle Worker's" cosmic twin. The sun to its night. Paul and Robert Fraser on Fire Island in 1974. Nothing I can say will do it justice, so I won't try. This is the "other world" conjured in "Tug of War," so powerfully and joyfully imagined, it's real. (I'm always thinking of this story, but I did so extra hard when I came across a prompt recently: 'They aren't each other's first love, but they're each other's true love'.)
SAME AS IT EVER WAS by RedheadAmongWolves. My favorite Outsider's POV. An ageing newsstand owner from Liverpool remembers John and Paul as boys and young men. There's something magical about the relationship coming alive in these glimpses. A story filled with tenderness that reminds me to always look closely.
AN ORGASM OF SOUND by @pauls1967moustache. The insanity of John and Paul in 1967 got the tribute it deserves. I sleep easier since I read this story. It feels cosmically right that it exists.
PLANT A SEED by @eveepe. Paul in his slutty sailor outfit in Miami. He and John are into each other, and happy, and fuck slowly. Afterwards, Paul has an idea for a new song. That's it. Tender, glorious, hot perfection. Apply at least once a week for best results.
For more thoughts about some of my favorite stories, sorted into very much defined-ad-hoc categories, read under the cut.
Young Love:
I love the myth of their first meeting, and stories that speculate about the sexually loaded creative fireworks/gritty jealousies/tentative hand-holding/topping and tailing during the first years. Here are some faves:
Paul finds music, and John, and his life is changing. In STREETS OF OUR TOWN (@with-eyes-closed) you can taste the upheaval and promise of first love and growing up. Deeply sensual, even without on-page sex. The shaky, sweet, and all-consuming fire of John and Paul’s first kiss is immortalized in ALL I KNOW SINCE YESTERDAY (RedheadAmongWolves). In NON NOBIS SOLUM (@downtothe-lastdrop), art student John simply has to know how far grammar school boy Paul will go to please him. But Paul matches him play-by-play. In THE CAST IRON SHORE (@m1ssunderstanding) Paul earns extra money through music and sex. John finds out. They fall in love, and hide their mutual pining behind transactions—but in the end, they man up to pair up, and get their band back on track. (The first part is finished; I can’t wait for part 2.) John and Paul’s ’61 trip to Paris has been honored in fiction many times; WHEN YOU ARE YOUNG THEY ASSUME YOU KNOW NOTHING (@lilypadd23) is a slow-burning, blessedly long story that blossoms sweetly. DON’T THINK ABOUT IT is the concept by which Paul measures both his pining for John and their deeply satisfying (but surely not really queer?!) sex life. Perfectly realized Paul POV by @merseydreams. Finally: I NEED YOU DARLIN’ (verse) (by @beatlessideblog) would have fit many categories, but I put it here, because in the end, it’s about young John and Paul becoming friends, making music, having sex, and falling in love. No more, no less. Embedded in a late 50’s/early 60's Liverpool omegaverse in which there's a place for their bond. But, surprise (?!): It’s still complicated. I can’t overstate how charming and satisfying and funny and hot this work is.
Old John and Paul:
Is there anything as lovely as imagining John and Paul growing old together?
In HERE TODAY (@herspecialagent), John and Paul found happiness with each other in Scotland. On 8th December 1980, they invite friends for a party, and fight an inexplicable sense of doom. A reminder that our other lives can be closer than we think, and to keep our loved ones even closer.
GROW OLD WITH ME (@inherownwr1te): Old farmers and husbands John and Paul enjoy domestic bliss, deal with a broken arm, and make sweet love.
HAVING COFFEE (@feathersandblue): John Lennon and Paul McCartney, “one of the most iconic gay couples in history,” look back on their early love, the Beatles, and being outed in the 80’s, in this oh-so-glamourous, well-written 2020 portrait…
Magical re-tellings of J/P and/or the Beatles Story:
No matter where you come down on the blessed vs. cursed continuum—they were living through something magical.
In KISSING THE BLARNEY (@zilabee) the Beatles draw love and music from kissing Paul, and each other, until the stupid world interferes. But fear not, all ends well. How to tell the truth through whimsy: this story demonstrates it.
In WE ARE ALL TOGETHER (also by @zilabee), John and Paul switch bodies. It helps.
I WAS A YOUNGER MAN NOW (THEN) (POST HOC) BY @fingersfallingupwards: Paul is a time traveler and braids his life together with John’s, out of order, through the years. And yes, they do grow old together—but not without losing each other first. I’m in awe of this story.
A darker time-traveling story is A MATTER OF TIME (D12Fan), in which John and Paul love each other, over and over, and never manage to make it work—but Paul won’t give up.
FOR THOUGH THEY MAY BE PARTED (@downtothe-lastdrop): The misery of the 'Get Back' sessions and memory-stunting technology imported from “Severance” are not enough to kill off John and Paul’s attraction and longing for each other. Again, this is basically what happened, so.
John and Paul without the Beatles?
Yes, please! Sometimes, the best way to dissect and celebrate (and fix?) this mesmerizing and exasperating partnership is to lift it from its context and drop it elsewhere. Anything goes.
WHATEVER FATE DECREES by @dailyhowl: A gorgeous, finely spun, securely handled, self-contained vision of how John and Paul could have worked as artists in love, without a band to 'legitimize' and constrain their bond. I love this homage to their deep and complicated love that needed trust and breathing room.
1967 by @walkuntilthedaylight: What if John and Paul had gone to Spain together and not come back? This story not only explores their relationship layer by layer, it also dives into the the feelings of those who knew them 'before' and who now meet them again, as a couple. A fascinating alternate history. Not a fluffy one.
TOMORROW I'LL MISS YOU (@pauls1967moustache): Paul abandons John in Hamburg—or John stays behind without bothering to write, depending on who you ask. This "Before Sunset"—AU reunites them, years later. They ride a bus and write a song, and the love and tension are sweet and painful.
DOUBLE FANTASY (by @javelinbk): Modern AU in which John and Paul meet at John's flower shop and manage to ignore and creatively re-interpret their feelings for one another for a surprising amount of time, before fate has mercy. I love how their sweet, well-matched eccentricity makes the world a warmer place for both of them.
WE ARE STARDUST (Unchained_Daisychain): AU. John and Paul meet at Woodstock, fall hard and fast for each other, and have to decide what to do with it: Paul's life is back home in England...except...
Angst, darkness, and courage:
Pain, fear, grief, and other dark emotions are part of the real J/P story, so it makes sense to honor and harvest them in fiction. One of my favorite brands of McLennon angst is the one triggered by their feelings for each other, and the thing they become once they're together™. When they're scared of how much they need each other, and of what will happen next.
ONE AND ONE AND ONE IS THREE and MANAGING EXPECTATIONS (both by @pauls1967moustache), for instance. The first is a terrifying threesome with Yoko (at John's instigation, of course), in which trust is never rewarded and sex resolves nothing. The second is Paul wondering, in thoughts both messy and crystal clear, whether he exists independently of John. He turns to Brian for answers. They fuck. It feels like a human thing compared to what is going on in Paul's mind. Just astounding.
SUNDAY DRIVER (@boshemians) dives into the theme of Paul and John being afraid of themselves in the aftermath of Paul's accident (moped, sexual) with Tara Browne. This one, like "Managing Expectations," ends on a lovely grace note.
MACABRE (@dovetailjoints). Lennon and McCartney go too far.
OPEN HEART (@paisanas). Paul drinks John's blood. John lets him. But Paul starts to hate himself for how much he needs John, which John feels as rejection. I love how this story ends on Paul embracing his need. You can see the painful, bare bones of their malnourished love under the lush sensuality of the vampire sex. Raw and rich.
SILENCE (@ohjohnnysblog). Short and piercing. If there is someone you love—tell them. Don't wait.
THE LATE, GREAT JOHNNY ACE (@midchelle). Reeling with grief, Paul is recording an album in 1981. George and Ringo are there. John is not. But in the end—he is. And they touch. I've always admired Paul's resilience in the face of having to perform or "prove" his love of John in public, and this story showed me, without sugar-coating, where this resilience comes from.
Light, hope, and fixing things:
There is also much lightness and brightness in McLennon, because John and Paul were ridiculous, and horny, and weird. And also: they deserve a laugh. They deserve the fluffiest of happy endings. They deserve high-quality, life-affirming smut. They deserve silly, because silly is what they were. You know their names, look up their number.
1980. John is in BERMUDA (@scurator), Paul visits. Paul comes prepared, John just comes. Sometimes, it can be this simple. This story always leaves me in such a good mood. Paul is the (more) experienced one, and it...really works for me.
GOT TO GET DOWN (@eveepe): In praise of John's obsession with Paul's...precious. His small and perfect prick.
ADVENTURES IN TOTAL HONESTY (@merseydreams). Pithy and sexy, and, I quote from the tags: #Excessive Margarita Mixing.
ANINUT (@pauls1967moustache): The Beatles heal, together and separately, after Brian's death. Once more, I quote the writer: "The Beatles did not follow any of the Jewish mourning traditions, and frankly, they should have."
The unhinged weirdness of the Mad Day Out, with John and Paul escaping and Francie, Yoko and Mal not missing them...much, is rightfully celebrated in one of the insaner stories I read: JOHN, I'M ONLY DANCING (@skylikeaflame)
FAIR'S FAIR (@javelinbk): John and Paul are being silly during a press conference, resulting in acute arousal requiring John's skilled intervention. I love the unexpected care and tenderness in this one!
WHERE THE POETS WENT (RedheadAmongWolves): Tender and enchanted story in which Paul and John go to a bookstore, where they're not as famous as everywhere else. As delicate as the chiming doorbells and the pages murmuring around them.
TAKEN AWAY (@crumblingcookies) Extraterrestrial Intelligence intervenes to reunite John and Paul.
CAN I TAKE MY FRIEND TO BED? (manhattanvalleys). Paul fucks the band in sequence and gets off in the end, as is his due. This is a story like Prince's KISS. No filler, all effect.
THEY SAY IT'S YOUR BIRTHDAY (@ohjohnnysblog). Warm and nostalgic phone sex in the 70's.
KEEP THE LIGHT WE'RE GIVEN (@backbenttulips). Amidst the rise of Beatlemania, Paul and John expect their first child. This is Paul's 1962 diary.
More Outsider POV's:
STILL MATES (@pauls1967moustache): in 1968, Peter Asher takes the leap to act on his feelings for his sister's spiraling ex fiancé. This isn't about Paul as much as about Peter, and who he wants to be. Gutting character study. It made me love Peter.
ANOTHER GIRL (@boshemians): Astrid reunites with the Beatles during the making of AHDN and registers their words and deeds with the same stark objectivity as her camera. I love how she seeks the shelter of obscurity while they are being dragged into the limelight. But she sees them, wherever they are. J/P in this story feels incredibly real to me.
WHY BUY THE COW (RedheadAmongWolves). The milkman sees everything on his early morning rounds: the arrival of a nice new family, the McCartneys, the mother's illness, the sadness after her death...and the arrival of a new love in the older son's life. He shouldn't approve—should say something, in fact. But a small inner voice holds him back.
SLEEPLESS IN WALES (thinkpink20). Mike overhears Paul and John whisper in bed. He doesn't understand everything they say. I do. Adorable.
Not each other's first love, but each other's true love
THIS YEAR'S FOR ME AND YOU (@skylikeaflame): After a long life, after deep and loving partnerships with other people, John and Paul, encouraged by their grown-up children, finally meet their mutual love head on. A festive story about waiting the perfect amount of time.
THERE ARE ALWAYS FLOWERS (tarenas): The Beatles are in the past; John and Paul's love is in ashes. Paul, who is fragile and bereft, lives with George, who is content. The four ex-Beatles unite for the second wedding of Mike McCartney. At times, the aching grief in this story is almost unbearable. But the love between George and Paul is unusual and real. This is unfinished. I'll keep waiting for the final chapter.
Beyond J/P
WANT ME WHEN I'M NOT THERE (@backbenttulips): Linda catches Paul cheating on her with John. She divorces him. Finally: a story that puts her most likely reaction front and center, with no mercy for the messed-up geniuses.
In the Rebecca-AU LOVE LIKE GHOSTS (@backbenttulips), Yoko becomes Mrs. Lennon. Soon, she discovers that her husband is haunted by the ghost of his first love. It's pleasing how well this re-telling matches the events as they (alas) (almost) happened. The ending is chilling. Genuinely horrifying. I love seeing Yoko as the sensible one and as the focus of empathy.
THE BASS LESSON (@aquarianshift). Paul and Stu fool around without letting go of their mutual resentment for even a moment. And it works. "Let's never do this again." I don't think so.
TELL ME ALL MY LOVE'S IN VAIN (@midchelle). Forget about quote unquote platonically obsessed male rock stars: This about about Maureen and Patti through the years. The web weaving continues.
SPOTLIGHT ON JOHN AND STU (@dailyhowl) A love story in letters—too brief, like Stu's life, but sounding as if the writer transcribed their dictation. Some of the best descriptions of what it must have been like to play on stage with the Beatles during the mania are in NO I IN THREESOME (@with-eyes-closed). George finds himself in the beam of attention between John and Paul, and nearly loses his mind. But he's determined to stay and become part of them. Paul is daddy and "fucks like music" as seen through George's eyes. The whole story is vicious and hot and uncomfortable—until there's the love and quiet at the eye of the storm.
Not for the faint of heart! WHAT THE CIGGIE CARTON SAW (@waveofhand): Paul McCartney having his way with cigarettes.
This is getting out of hand...but I'll stop here. There are so many more stories I love. And I can think of many other categories that would deserve their own post.
So, who knows: To be continued?
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