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#I would pay any price for this on God
wachi-delectrico · 1 year
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BRUH i swear the filters on character.ai are getting worse and worse. The AI will just obliterate messages with the tamest little kiss, or a hug with romantic undertones. I've also had completely unrelated responses get censored cos the character wrote in a trigger word even though it's not NSFW in-context. Fucking hell man.
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pierogi-png · 2 months
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anyone kno how i can make all my body pain disappear immediately i have a 9 hr opening shift to work tomorrow nd i feel like i am crumbling rn
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captainchokchok · 8 months
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Literally can not stand my fucking apartment complex I can't wait to fucking move out
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eloquent-music · 11 months
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Of course he will never get his servos fixed but damn are they just not working properly a little more lately.
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enigmaris · 12 days
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All Father Thor, King of Asgard,
A new ruler of Hel has been chosen, the fearsome King Phantom, defeater of Pariah Dark. It is time for Asgard to prepare to pay the dues required to keep peace between the realms of the gods and of the dead. Bring the terms of your surrender to King’s Phantom’s representative on earth, Daniel James Fenton of Amity Park.
The Noble Scribe of King Phantom,
Ghost Writer
*****
“Okay so let me get this straight,” Tony Stark, Iron Man and Avenger said. “Ghosts are real.”
“Yes.” King Thor Odinson, Asgardian and god of thunder agreed.
“And they’re evil.”
“A bit of an oversimplification, but yes.” Prince Loki Odinson, sometimes villain and would be planet invader, answered.
“And the ghosts have had one ruler, the most powerful ghost in existence. And that new rulers are chosen by combat, meaning that every new ruler is more powerful than the last.”
“Yes, you’ve got the idea.” Thor said looking down at his knees for a moment.
“And since ghosts are so evil and so powerful, that means that their ruler is practically an unstoppable force of destruction.”
“Doesn’t it sound delightful?” Loki asked, to which he received a glare.
“So, for the past 10,000 years, at least, Asgard and plenty of other realms have been paying taxes to the ghost king to avoid a war. A racketeering scheme.”
“I don’t know what a racketeering scheme is but yes, the ghost peace treaty does require that Asgard pay the ghost king gold and magical weapons every century and if we fail to pay that price, then the peace treaty will be broken and Asgard will likely be forfeit.”
“That’s a racketeering scheme!”
“Well then yes.”
Tony pinched the bridge of his nose. It was clear the man’s headache was only growing stronger as he walked through the information the two gods had dumped into his lap this morning. Thor and Loki both had rushed into his lab and started babbling about world ending threats and how they might possibly be absolutely screwed.
“So, now there’s a new king. Which means a new peace treaty has to be signed.” Tony said the words ‘peace treaty’ in the same way he’d say ‘nuclear bomb’ or ‘Steve Rogers’.
“I thought you said it was a racketeering scheme?” Loki asked.
“Shut it.” Tony hissed.
“A new treaty must be signed.” Thor repeated, trying to keep the three of them on track.
“And since the last king Pariah Dark was so powerful that he made the entirety of Asgard tremble, you’re pretty sure this new king, Phantom, is probably worse.”
“Pariah Dark had the power to suck entire planets into the afterlife, destroying them,” Loki said looking at his nails. “Stands to reason that a ghost powerful enough to defeat him could do much, much worse.”
“Right. Fantastic!” Tony practically shouted.
“I don’t think anything about this is fantastic.” Thor admitted, he was ignored.
“And according to you Asgard has been paying the ghost tax for both their realm and ours since we were under Odin’s protection. And since Hela and Sutur destroyed your entire planet and your entire people are refugees, now we have to figure out how to keep an ultrapowerful ghost from wiping out our home without any way of paying him.”
“Technically we don’t know if Phantom is a ‘he’.” Loki pointed out unhelpfully.
“The letter literally says he’s a king!”
“Could be a title. What do the dead have need for gender?”
“This is not the point of this discussion,” Thor cut in before an argument about the usefulness of gender and the concept of a female king burst forth. “We’re here to figure out how to make peace with King Phantom without resulting in a war that would destroy our world and our peoples.”
“We don’t even have Earth’s mightiest heroes anymore.” Loki said, referencing the painful results of the civil war and the Accords.
“We’re fucked.” Tony decided.
“Yes,” Thor agreed. “We probably are.”
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awniie · 4 months
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AT LEAST LOOK AT ME WHEN YOU LIE
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ᣞ ⊹ ݁ summary: your boyfriend suguru finds the best way to punish you !!
꒰ content: mean!sugu, fem!reader, pussyslapping, praise/degradiation, cum denial, feel like this whole thing is kinda a niche kink
ㅤㅤㅤ⭑ notes: my ‘mean suguru’ drabble was based on this so if some stuff sounds familiar it’s cus i took this n drabble-fied it; also this is for the anon who asked for it <33 ALSO @d0nk3y-k0ng my new-found geto fixation is your fault <33
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“Suguru, can you help me?…this thing is too heavy!” you called out, voice straining as you struggled to bring the giant cardboard box through the door. It was way too heavy for you, and of course the delivery people had quickly set it outside the door, escaping the potential work of having to bring it inside. Your boyfriend quickly rushed to your aid, grabbing the opposite side of the box. “I got it baby, where did you wanna put it again?” Suguru asked, setting the box against the wall and looking at you.
“I wanted to put it in the living room. That way it’ll be the most accessible.” You told him. You two hand just moved into your new place and decorating was the sole thing on your mind. You spent hours on pinterest, trying to find the perfect aesthetic for your new home. You valued your home,so much so that you started repeating all those cringey aphorisms whenever you were questioned about your new-found obsession.
“Home is where the heart is, sugu.” You told him. He scoffed and rolled his eyes. “Okay, but what does that anything to do with spending $100 on a house plant?” You let out a sheepish laugh. “Well…I can take care of the plant. Which takes heart…?” You murmured. It was an inane suggestion, which was appropriate for the circumstance of spending $100 on a plant. “Sounds a bunch of bullshit to me.” Your boyfriend told you. He was necessarily happy with all the money being spent on what seemed like superficial things, he seemed to be happy with the results of your decorating.
It took about 30 minutes to situate this new mirror, but for good reasons. It was big, like really big. Leaning, it was taller than you and almost as tall as your 6’3 boyfriend. It was wide as well, providing a perfect view of anyone who looked into it. It was a gorgeous peice of furniture. The frame was a creamy white, with ornate molding. There were carefully crafted swirls and curves on it, with tiny clay embellishment. It had looked like something out of a fairytale, like a mirror that could reveal the deepest desires of whoever dared look inside. It was perfect for your new house, the only thing that wasn’t so perfect was the extravagant price. Your jaw almost dropped when you saw the cost. No way in hell would Suguru let you buy it, no matter how much you beg or how many tears you spill.
So you searched for alternatives. Any sort of duplicate or listing on another site would be scouted out and search throughly before you succumb your wallet to $2,500. You must’ve been god-kissed that day, as the only cheaper listing was $1,700. Still, it wasn’t something you felt 100% sure about buying, but what other options were there? Suguru would be proud of you for finding a cheaper offering and thinking about a budget. So, you went ahead and bought it, feeling pretty proud of yourself for doing so. Did you tell Suguru about the purchase? no way. You’d only tell him if he asked, and you prayed with all your heart that he wouldn’t.
“Sooo…do you like it?” you asked him hopefully. Maybe he would say yes and then move on to something else, and not ask that dreadful question. Maybe, when you told him about the bargain you made, he’d be proud of you for your efforts. “Mhmmm, t’s real pretty.” He put his hand on his chin, as if thinking. “How much did we pay for this again?” Suguru asks, stepping back and giving it an appraisal.
Shit. It was silent for a good 10 seconds. You could feel the way your words dried up on your tongue and died, as if they were too scared to come up. He raised an eyebrow and asks again, looking at you through the reflection of the mirror. “How much did we pay for this thing?” Stil not answer. He came up behind you, snaking one arm around your waist, while his open hand went to your chin. “Baby, you gon’ answer me?” His ghostly purple eyes searing yours through that cursed mirror.
“I-I just forgot to tell you-…!” you whined, legs buckling as you felt another sharp stinging sensation land on puffy clit.
“Oh, you did?” Suguru asked facetiously. You nod and cry as you feel another slap land on your clit. He then grabs your face with his hands, holding your cheeks between his slick-coated fingers. “At least look at me when you lie, baby.” He said as he guided your face in the mirror.
This was humiliating. He had you spread out on the floor, pussy glistening and your back pressed up against his chest. He had took upon himself to punish you, which subsequently turned into something lewd and twisted. Hence the being sprawled out, leggings and panties long discarded and receiving countless slaps on your cunt. It was painfully obvious that he was hard, feeling his length that was being squashed up against your ass. Your hair was messy and out of place, your skin sticky while drool and tears coated your chin. The worst part? He was doing this right infront of the new mirror and he wouldn’t even let you look away, so you were forced to fully embrace your current state.
“Please sugu. I didn’t mean too…just lemme cum please? You begged, your voice shaky and full of hiccups.
“Noo, only good girls get to cum .” He cooed, his finger playing with your little bundle of nerves. You’d been at this for about an hour now. He’d start to finger your cunt, and then he’d hit it as punishment. The closest you’ve been to finishing was the half-broken orgasm you’d stolen from his fingering, which in return you got another slap.
“Could’ve been done a long time ago. You’re making this so difficult for me baby.” He whispered in your ear, as if this hurt him more than it did you. “So now, are you gonna tell me the truth, or are you gonna keep lying to me? Cus’ trust me, I won’t hesitate to hit this pussy again” He threatened, the hand on your sticky clit moving even more slowly as an incentive.
You meant to shake your head, but when he swiftly plunged his fingers into your weeping cunt, the sloppy sounds of your slick, must’ve drowned out whatever of your senses was left. “y-yes…!”
You saw the gleam of that dangerous smile in the mirrors reflection. “I knew you would. Such a smart girl, yeah?”
Then your boyfriend laughed, a soft and smooth laugh that should not have gone down to your lower stomach with molten delicious heat. Could you blame yourself though? His fingers were pumping in-and-out of you with tantalizing proficiency, making your insides do somersaults. The way that syrupy-sweet praises dripped off his tongue alongside bitter jeers. Your brain was too far fucked out for so many conflicting emotions. “Go on now..say what you needa say to me.”
“m’ sorry for spending your money sugu! I shouldn’t have bought it, should’ve a-asked!” You confessed, buckling you hips in tandem with his fingers. “Ah ah…no moving.” He reprimanded, taking those fingers out and slapping your hole again. Your body jolted at the sudden sting and then slumped back against his chest.
“Look at you, all teary eyed and wet-pussied. You like this shit, don’t yeah?” He catchesized, with that stupid-stupid smirk on his face. “I bet you’re not sorry at all.”
“No-yes-no m’ sorry..! M’ really really sorry! ” You could barely understand what he was saying. Your pleasure was the only thing that mattered right now, all other senses finger-fucking out of you a long time ago. Geto loved you like this though. Fucked dumb and too far down the abyss of your own pleasure to think properly, all inhibitions lost. It was the easiest way to get an answer out of you.
“I think you bought this mirror just for yourself. Just so you could watch yourself get fucked? He guessed, dragging his hands across your quivering thighs. You hated how soft his voice sounded, especially when accusing you. whimpered as he did, wishing he’d just hurry and put you out of your misery. “N-no”
he frowned, stopping his hand in its tracks. He brought his lips close to shell of you ear, sending shivers down your spine and more wetness to your cunt. “Look at me, and don’t lie.”
You looked at him, straight through the mirror. “I promise, i didn't sugu. I just wanted our home to look nice!” you confessed, sniffling and squeezing your thighs together to create some sort of friction for your achey pussy.
Suguru felt his heart melt a little. You were so pitiful with your shaky mewls and whines . He couldn't help but feel a little bad for being so mean to his precious girl. He shouldn't punish you too hard, obviously you didn't know much better. “Aww..look at that face. How could I be so mean?” He told you, trailing that finger up on down your slit. He smiled at how you hips yet again bucked at his wandering digits. “So needy. Poor baby, drooling n’ crying just like this pussy. Guess I should give you what you want, yeah?”
“Mh! Yes sugu, please lemme cum now! I’m so sorry, won’t do this ever again.” You begged. At this point you were full on crying, all other senses overrides by your need to cum. His thick fingertip teased your sopping entrance, re-coating the fingers in cum.
He simply laughed, diving those fingers back into your pulsing heat. “Oh, I know baby. I know. Now watch me as I give this pussy just what she needs.”
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andersonfilms · 5 months
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❝ TATTOO ARTIST!ELLIE ❞ ✶ ELLIE WILLIAMS !
★⠀warning y disclaimers — eighteen+, fem!reader, wlw sex, poc!friendly, switch!reader, switch!ellie, tbh loser!coded ellie, scissoring, ellie being soft and cute and love struck, tattoo artist!ellie, mentions of oral.
RAY RAMBLES ✶ i'm still feeling out writing for ellie, so be nice to me pls, this is the first thing i've posted for her. if not, i won't write for her again jk but seriously dont be mean to me
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tattoo artist!ellie who you meet due to her forgetfulness. her black, leathered notebook gets left behind when she meets a friend at a local coffee shop. there’s a business card of a tattoo shop and you decide to take your chances with it and call the number. thankfully, it pans out to be the owner’s notebook. she, ellie, has apparently been tearing apart her apartment trying to find it. her voice floods all over as she whispers thank you just shy of a thousand times, her grateful pleas drip like honey all over you, sweetening you right through your core.
tattoo artist!ellie who is stunned from the first sight of you. the outfit you have on isn’t anything special, out of the ordinary, not it really isn’t but she can’t help the way her eyes wonder over. you have some tattoos which are visible, adding to the draw she feels towards you. soft shoulders are exposed in the strapless top you’re wearing, but your pants are bagging, hanging lowly at your hips, exposing a sliver of your lower stomach to her green, greedy eyes. a new, sultry and velvet, voice speaks her name and ellie knows she’ll do anything and everything to hear it again.
tattoo artist!ellie who gladly walks up to you, accepting the her notebook, desperately attempting not to fixate on the tingle spreading in her heart when she feels your soft finger slightly rub against the tip of her thumb. your sharp, gorgeous eyes look ellie once over before you offer her a smile, blinding ellie to any logical sensibility. do you like her? are you pleased? do you think she’s pretty too? is your heart beating or your fucking chest? are you having trouble breathing like she is?
tattoo artist!ellie who begins to blush profusely as you compliment her tattoos on her exposed bicep with the muscle tank she’s wearing. ellie doesn’t think it’s anything more than you being nice, returning the compliment you gave her, but then you’re touching her. nails painted with black nail polish, shiny but chipped, accentuate the line work. ellie wants to faint. jesse is sitting at the stool on the front counter and lets out a small chirp of a giggle, ellie thinks about punching him in the gut, but it means she would have to walk away from you so she opts out.
tattoo artist!ellie who does something out of the ordinary for her, offers for you to come by next week, saying you’ll tattoo her for a discounted price, something she would never agree to if you weren’t so hot, god if you don’t like her she thinks she’ll puke. but you agree, with your touch still on her slim, but defined bicep. the smirk you’re sporting makes the auburn haired girl nearly faint. evidently, you know just how to pull on her strings. you step in closer to her frame, kissing her sweetly on the cheek and she’s just as soft as you imagined. i’ll definitely take you up on your offer, els. see you next week.
tattoo artist!ellie who is paying close attention as she starts the line work. you came in wanting it down on your back, so ellie focused her attention on preparing the ink when while you situated yourself. by the time ellie had turned around, you were shirtless the side of your breasts exposed as she began. mentally, trying to convince herself she capable of being professional and not thinking about your tits in her mouth. the longer it went on, the more you talked, and the bigger ellie’s crush became.
tattoo artist!ellie who sports a sheepish smile when you start asking her about her life, how she became a tattoo artist, how long she’d be doing it, what were her least favorite designs to do. you ask about twenty question before the one you really want to ask.
“so, no girlfriend?” you wished you could see her, try to gage her reaction, her facial expressions, a smile or a grime? was she looking at you like she wants to eat you alive?
“no, but why not ask me if you have a boyfriend?”
“you’re not the type. am i wrong?”
all ellie does is smirk, shaking her head and clicking her tongue against the roof of her mouth obnoxiously, yeah she’s not the type.
tattoo artist!ellie who finished but not without difficulty. you love to talk, usually ellie would find it irritating when she’s trying to focus but on you it’s cute. she asks if you want to see it, and you simply agree. you turn your back to the mirror, your chest fully exposed and ellie looks anywhere but or tries to. she focuses on your angel sent smile and the look of glee as you admit how much you love it to ellie. or els, she tries not be too excited about how happy you are about it.
tattoo artist!ellie who isn’t sure how it happened, how you’re even into her, but she says enough of the right things to get you into her car and back to her apartment. you’re pushing her against the door pressed against her sinfully, peppering playful bites as ellie fishes for her keys. you follow her into her home, her tongue pleading for dominance over hers and she really doesn’t put much of fight.
tattoo artist!ellie who moans as you sit your cunt on top of hers. it’s delicious the way you have her putty in your hand from the initial grind. your clit catching with hers, her strong hands finding your hips, thumb with a bruising pressure, as pause. ellie is going to ask what’s wrong but before she can, you’re spitting on her cunt, a string of saliva, your perfectly wet concoction, halts as it travels down her labia and your sinking slick first, moaning out a soft oh, fuck, els you feel perfect.
tattoo artist!ellie who loves to watching your tits bounce for her as you slowly pick up the pace, the tattoo on your sternum perfectly placed between them only fuels the stickiness between ellie’s thighs. she lets you create the pace, control her to your liking.
“do you like to be, uh oh- fuck, choked?” you ask as feel yourself lost it, the smacking of your slick combined with her spurring you on.
ellie grabs your hand, placing your delicate fingers along her delightful throat, “what do you think, babygirl?”
tattoo artist!ellie who is quite literally getting off on getting choked by you. the light pressure on her neck, combined with you rubbing against her pussy hips falling over her again and against has her clit throbbing. you’re so painfully hot it, claiming her, riding her pussy, whimpering out els els els, make me cum, please baby, i’m right there. yeah? are you there with me, baby?
tattoo artist!ellie who comes right along with you. she swears she sees the creator from above for a moment, flashes of white cloud her vision as you continue to fuck her, pulling every last drop until it’s spilling over your cunt, it’s not until then are you satisfied. you collapse on her, your breasts softly smashed against her own, a whine leaving your lips, hot breath on ellie’s ear nearly makes her buck up back into you.
“c’mon, get this pretty ass up and arched. have to taste this pretty pussy before it kills me not to.” ellie whispers but the two of you know it’s not a request, it’s a command. happily, you obey.
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luveline · 5 months
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Hi Jade! I absolutely love your writing, especially when you write for Eddie or Steve. Love these two. I was wondering if you could write about an insucure reader who has been rejected a lot and doesn't believe it when someone actually starts loving her for who she is. I'd love this with either Eddie or Steve . You can choose who you want to write for. If you don't wanna write something like this, that's fine too. Just know that I love your writing!
ty for requesting!! —you have a hard time believing eddie loves you, but he does. fem, 1.1k
“Oh my god.” 
Eddie freaks you out when he talks like that. His voice turns hoarse, almost grainy, like he’s in shock, or he can’t get a grip. 
“That’s what you’re wearing?” he asks. 
“It’s not alright?” you ask, looking down at your outfit. It’s just jeans and a chunky cardigan. He sounds like he loves it, but your brain goes straight to worry anyhow. 
“No, not alright.” He leans back against your pillows, his arms behind his head and his biceps doing something cruel against his shirt sleeves. “Not alright at all. Do a spin?” 
You shake your head severely. 
“Doll,” he says, pouting gently. “Please?” 
“No, if it looks bad, I’ll change,” you say. 
“It doesn’t look bad! I’m kidding. You look the opposite of bad, so do a spin!” 
You love his voice and the way he talks, and you love him —though of course he doesn’t know it— so you end up doing a slow spin for him in your bedroom. You’ve buttoned the top button of your cardigan and it’s a very static movement, but he oohs, ahs, and sits up quickly. 
“Yeah, you look fucking beautiful.” 
“Boo,” you mumble. 
“Just as I suspected you would.” He gestures you forward. “Wait, come over here a second.” 
Eddie says wait as an act of persuasion, or a white lie; he makes it sound as though there’s something urgent afoot, but there never is. He grabs your arm when you’re close enough, then your back, looking up into your face imploringly. “I just wanted to look at you.” Being held like this warms you from the inside out. His hand scrunches your cardigan and shirt, the other bringing your arm to his chest. “But you guessed that.” 
“No, I…” You smile in a flat line. “You’re sure I look good?” 
“Of course I am. I was kidding,” he says, softer now. “You know? I was being sarcastic, because you look that good it’s crazy to imply you look bad. I promise.” 
You sit down on the bed beside him. 
“You look so pretty,” he says. 
You nod as a strange ache blossoms in your throat. “Sorry,” you say, wishing you could explain it to him. You weren’t always scared of what people are thinking, but past dismissal has left you off kilter, and now he’s paying the price. 
“For what, angel?” he asks, though he’s not waiting for an answer. “You’re…you do look beautiful, you do, I’m not messing around. Well, I was. But I’m not now, so don’t be sorry, and don’t worry. I love this stuff, I fucking love the jeans, you have nice thighs,” —he laughs at your tired sigh— “and I love buttons. These buttons are great.” 
You let your cheek rest gently on his arm, still laughing. He’s such a sweetheart when he wants to be, but he’s not half as cool as he thinks he is. He’s too earnest to be a bad boy. “Thank you.” 
“I love you.” 
You shake your head. Eddie’s wrapping his arms around you, pulling you closer, face encouraged into his neck. “I do,” he says gently. “I’ve told you before, haven’t I?” 
“Yes.” 
He brings his hand to the back of your neck. “Mm. And have I given you any reason to think I’m lying?” 
“I don’t think you’re lying, I just think that… that I… you know.”
“I know. Doesn’t make it true.” He sounds a peculiar mixture of sad and happy at once. Find concern, perhaps, or loving derision. “I love you, and I’d love it if you walked around in bobbly sweaters and clogs. I don’t care what you wear, ‘cos it’s you.” 
“There’s nothing even that good about me to feel that way for.” 
“You don’t think so, but I do.” He turns his face down to you and presses the bridge of his nose to your temple. 
His t-shirt smells like clary soap. You curl your hand into the front of it, the soft wall of his abdomen underneath a familiar comfort. He hugs you tighter still. Eddie’s told you he loves you a few times, and you’d thought that when a guy finally felt the same way about you, everything would be fixed, you could say it back and live happily ever after, but it hasn’t worked out that way so far. Every time he tells you he loves you, you’re paralysed by the idea that he can’t. But then he holds you like this and you start to wonder if he’s telling the truth. 
He kisses the side of your face. “You okay?” he asks, kissing you again to punctuate. 
“Yes. Yeah.” You work your arms behind his back and squeeze him. 
Eddie encourages your head back carefully. He meets your eyes; all you can see is his irises, deeply brown, and his long lashes where they tent together. You’re too close to see his lips, but you can sense that he’s smiling from the warmth in his eyes and the slight droop of his eyelids. 
“Kiss?” he murmurs. 
You hum a yes. Eddie nudges your nose with his until there’s space to kiss you, your lips pressed tight and then less so, a dance of sweet kisses. You relax under his touch, the physical evidence of his affection, so totally that your back clicks. He smiles into your mouth but pulls away, too tempted by the opportunity to make a joke. 
“You need a masseuse,” he says, bringing his hand to your cheek. 
“No, I don’t.” You can practically see the steam radiating off of your cheeks. 
“You totally do. I could give you a massage, babe. I’m really good.” 
“No… we’re going to the movies.” 
“See, that sounds like you do want one. I can give you one later.” 
You look at him for too long, his brows pulling together in concern, but it’s nothing he has to worry about. “Love you,” you say quickly, wrapping your arms around his neck to pull him in for another hug. 
His arm stutters at your side. “I love you,” you correct. The ‘I’ is important, especially when he’s never heard it from you before. It’s easy to love someone so patient, and so funny. 
He hugs you tight and sudden. “Yeah,” he says, “I love you too.” His watch digs into your spine. You don’t tell him. It’ll probably bruise, but you just don’t care. It’s nice to be loved fiercely. 
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kamaluhkhan · 4 months
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pov: you're the daughter of nemesis. you play it safe around camp, say you prefer balance over revenge, even though you're hungry for something else, something more. enter luke castellan, the boy who was never the saint he pretended to be. and, sure, eventually you become enemies on opposite sides of a divine war; sure, you swore luke would pay the price for everything he'd done. but...part of you wanted luke to dig his fingers into the wounds he left — just to feel him again. even if it went against the gods; even if it bled you dry.
(because the truth was: you were never much of a saint, either.)
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ACT I. SPILL UR GUTS
i. THE GRUDGE (or: the 7 things luke castellan hated about you)
ii. GET HIM BACK! (or: the 7 reasons you wanted revenge on luke castellan)
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ACT II. WE'LL WRITE SINS NOT TRAGEDIES
i. sloth (IDLE WORSHIP) *: you and luke, on the roof of the hermes cabin after curfew, getting high and fooling around ;)
ii. envy (I BET ON LOSING DOGS)*:  luke is getting tired of keeping your relationship a secret, you get a new sparring partner, and silena beauregard wins a bet.
iii. pride (BAD REPUTATION)*: luke will do just about anything to keep his title as truth or dare champion.
iv. lust (COMPLICATED)*: the lives of demigods are never simple. why would your relationship with luke be any different? four moments of tension + one moment of release. featuring a trip to montauk with percy, grover, and annabeth.
v. wrath (FUCK U IF I CAN’T HAVE US)**:  luke starts leading an army from a luxury cruise ship, chris is tired of hearing him whine about your unofficial break-up, and clarisse convinces you that the best way to channel your anger is to join her in the sea of monsters.
vi. gluttony (GUILTY AS SIN?)**:  after a mission gone wrong, you unknowingly take the fall for a friend; you get drunk with the enemy; and you start to think that, if they’re going to crucify you anyway, you might as well indulge in a few fatal fantasies.
vii. greed (A DEAL WITH GOD)**: artemis offers a solution to your existential crisis while hermes makes it worse, luke meets his would-be-mother-in-law, and you challenge the olympians to finally do the right thing.
*set during the lightning thief/season 1 of pjo
**set post-the lightning thief/season 1 of pjo
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fuzzyunicorn · 3 days
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God has told me he’s going 2 make an example out of all u girls in this group n their families n friends, and this includes the people who gleefully participated all the way to those who listened to these girl’s life-ruining bullshit lies about me n my soulmate, and said nothing or failed to stop the blatant lies in anyway— they will also receive severe karma for their parts & their failures & sins to god of harming his chosen prophets. He meant it when he said every single person who had a hand in harming his two chosen prophets will face the utmost severe consequences n punishments. This is exactly why god sends his Angels to earth in disguise bc he wants to see how u all would treat us if you knew our identities vs. how you’ll treat us when u have no clue who we are and Boss Man said his point was more than proven from what he saw which was more than enough. To the ones saying their daughters/girlfriends/friends etc deserve to be Earth Angels over me n my soulmate, god tested each of u (this includes all the people in your families n friends n associates— any1 who said it) & u all failed the tests miserably. He gave u girls n ur families n friends power like u all wanted & promised him god himself you’d only use it for good and when power was bestowed upon u, u all chose to use it exclusively for harm n ur own selfish needs & nothing else even when terminally ill people are in your families who desperately need to be healed. You all could’ve used that power to save their lives but u all used n abused it to take lives especially the lives of god’s chosen ones. God is angry and fuming girls. You girls n ur friends n families more than incurred his terrible wrath, & there will be vengeance and remember girls & ur families n friends this is just the warm up to the actual warm up. The karmic repercussions u all r facing rn is just the very beginning and remember all the black magical spells u girls casted are only hitting u girls n ur loved ones. That evil energy has to land somewhere and it’s not on me or him🖤 & last terrifying bit of info for each of u: back in early February god told me in light of all these people in this group (the girls & their families & their friends & all associated w this group that includes ur paid witches to cast black magick upon me & him🖤) he told me u all have broken the spiritual laws that land ur asses in my section of Heaven’s torture sector sentenced to sway & u should all know by now exactly what the fuck that means. That is the ultimate price u all will pay for the simple act of harming his chosen prophets ONE TIME & u all r repeat offenders and are all guilty of upping the ante when it spells didn’t harm me, so u all made ur sentences in my forest longer & more severe— u all were supposed to be on the outer edge but that’s not the case anymore given everything u girls have done & some that continue the shenanigans. I have no problem if u all want to continue the bullshit bc I love breaking my toys in my super awesome playroom (my forest). & remember girls u all were told in great detail what would happen to u all n ur loved ones if u harmed me & him🖤 just one time but god knows it’s been way more than just one time lol. U girls really fucked around and are really finding out where fucking around gets u (swaying from dead Gods in my wonderful wood)….
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euthymiya · 24 days
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the fontainian weather forecast ft. neuvillette
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in which your boyfriend is excited to share his newest hobby with you—but it doesn’t go according to plan. unfortunately, the poor people of fontaine must pay the price through the treacherously rainy weather until you do something about it
contains: gender neutral reader ; takes place during lantern rite after neuvillette visits qiaoying village ; ceramics master neuvi bc he’s a cutie ; sad neuvi :( and mentions of his status as hydro dragon and influence over the rain ; fluff ; established relationship ; reader is a bit of tease but it’s cute i swear
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in fontaine, there is no such thing as a light drizzle. when it rains, it pours.
like the gods almighty during the war, the rains pelts down in harsh blows angrily, fiercely, so unforgiving. but unlike the gods during the war, the reason behind the rain is a much gentler source. one you know exceedingly well, like the back of your hand and the lines of your palm.
neuvillette is sad again—you sigh fondly at the thought as you approach his door, knocking once, twice, then a final time before you call, “neuvillette? may i come in?”
“of course,” comes a quiet, croaked out reply. his voice is much too evidently strained. enough so, that you cautiously open the door just enough to slip in, but not enough to allow any possible wandering eyes outside his office to catch a glimpse of his potentially crestfallen face.
and, sure enough, he looks undoubtedly devastated.
“it’s pouring, my love,” you hum, closing the distance between the two of you as you walk across the room, instantly reaching to cup his face with both hands, “look at me, i’m drenched. is that anyway to welcome me when i’ve come looking my best to see you?”
you inspect his face, noting the downturned lips that present the most heartbreaking frown, and the helplessly miserable eyes that look up at you as he lets out a soft breath and leans into your touch.
“i’m sorry, my dear,” he mumbles, his own hands curling around your hips as he pulls you forward. not many people would imagine the iudex as one to be so emotional, let alone pull you close enough to slump against your figure and press his cheek into your shirt.
your fingers smooth through his hair, stroking the locks gently as he inhales your scent and sighs. “and what would the cause be of my little hydro dragon’s woes? surely, the sunny day just moments ago wasn’t my mind deceiving me of your good spirits.”
“well, i was quite looking forward to seeing you,” he says quietly, arms wrapped around your waist as he hugs your form against him, “your visit has been much anticipated all day.”
“i see,” you nod, “so then you must’ve changed your mind, hm? dreading seeing me, is that it?”
“of course not,” he pulls away, frowning as he looks up at you with a troubled look on his face, “there is not one moment i don’t desire to be in your presence. i mean it.”
you giggle, pinching his cheek as he looks at you slightly confused. sometimes, you think the most endearing quality that he possesses is his lack of awareness regarding human customs. affection is new territory, as is the practice of courting—but your favorite part is his frequent ability to miss every bantering joke you make. his innocence makes your heart sweet double the size.
you look at him with an amused grin as you tease, “i’m most relieved to hear that, monsieur. now tell me what’s on your mind.”
he relaxes a bit at the title. as bad as he might be with the ever complicated social cues that humans seem to endlessly create, neuvillette has mastered the art of understanding you. by now, he’s very familiar with the fact that monsieur is only a title you use when you’re being playful.
“i’m afraid a rather…unexpected turn of events has declined my mood for the day,” he mumbles, staring up at you with a slight curl to his lips. you fight the urge to poke them with your finger as you hum and gently trace along the horns on his head with a delicate touch, encouraging him to continue.
“and what might that be, darling?”
“i made a gift for you,” he explains, letting out a sad, disappointed sigh before he continues, “it was during my trip to qiaoying village.”
“you mean your trip that lasted half a day? honestly, neuvillette, surely you must be out of your mind. who takes a trip for less than a full day?”
“i still have many responsibilities for the day,” he insists, “but i had the time to stop at a stall that offered tourists the chance to try their hand at the ceramic arts.”
“well,” you raise a brow, “did you give it a go?”
“i did. it was most enjoyable—i intended to gift you my creation.”
“well, what’s stopping you, silly? i’m sure it’s lovely.”
for a moment, you wonder if his spirits have been dampened by lingering doubts of whether or not you’ll like his gift. you think it’s absurd—you’ll love anything from him, but your question seems to add to his low mood when the rain hits the glass of his window harder, making you quickly glance outside at the worsening weather.
for a fleeting moment, you heart goes out to the poor, unsuspecting victims that walk the streets of fontaine without an umbrella—they must be soaked to the bone with the intensity of the current rain.
“i thought so too,” he says woefully, looking up at you with such dejected eyes, you pout at him and lean down, kissing his lips softly in reassurance.
“then what seems to be the issue? with your mood, you’ll wash the streets empty of any people left at this rate, sweetheart.”
he pulls away from you, slowly opening the drawer of his desk and taking out what looks like two ceramic pieces. you catch a glance of a few different hues of blue, smiling to yourself as you note how the colors will certainly remind you of a certain man you happen to love any time you use his gift.
that is, until you realize the pressing issue.
the gift, which you realize is now a ladle, is broken into two pieces, cracked down the middle of what would have been a very precious dragon shaped ceramic.
neuvillette stares down at the pieces in sorrow as he murmurs, “i’ve regretfully had a moment of clumsiness and knocked it off my desk with my elbow. it’s broken now.”
“oh, honey,” you huff out a quiet chuckle, hands cradling the sides of his face as you turn him to meet your gaze, “is that what’s made you upset? this unfortunate little accident?”
“yes,” he averts his gaze back to the pieces in his hands, pressing them together to fit where they’ve cracked so you can both see what it once was. “i was rather eager to present it to you.”
“such precious sentiments,” you smile, leaning down and peppering kisses along his cheeks, trailing down and focusing extra attention to the corners of his mouth until they seem to uncurl just a little and lift. “i’m flattered you’d think of me during your trip to bring me back something.”
“i always think of you,” he whispers against your mouth, smiling slightly when you peck his lips with a sweet grin of your own. you’re not sure if you’re imagining it, but the rain pounding against the window almost seems to ease a little.
“do you now? then i must be the luckiest citizen in all of fontaine.”
“i only wish you could’ve seen it in its proper glory. i quite enjoyed the art of making it.”
“then perhaps we can visit the stall together when you next have the time. you can show me your new hobby while you make me another—we’ll be extra careful bringing it back.”
“really?” he pulls back slightly, looking up at you with significantly brighter eyes as you stifle a chuckle and nod, “you’d like to try it with me?”
“of course, you silly thing,” you trace his cheek with your thumb, smoothing the pad of your finger against the soft, warm swell of his skin as he relaxes into your touch. “although, this time, perhaps you’ll grant yourself at least a full day of your time to spend properly with me.”
“i will prepare to work my duties ahead of time to account for such a trip immediately,” he nods, a charming, dazzling little smile tugging at his lips as his hand clasps the back of yours, keeping your palm in place against his cheek.
the rain has stopped, you note—and really, you think the people of this nation owe you their sincerest gratitude. you’re almost certain your ability to keep a happy dragon has saved them from a number of devastating floods.
it’s not hard work, though. neuvillette is far too easy to keep happy and content in your presence.
“you really don’t need to,” you sigh wearily, “a break is certainly not the end of the world. but regardless, i look forward to it.”
you lean close once more, pressing a tender kiss to his forehead—the rays of sun through the window are bright and warm almost as soon as your lips meet his skin, earning a light snort from you as you eye the glass in amusement.
“feeling better?” you tease.
this time, he isn’t so ignorant to your playfulness as he flushes, looking away while he clears his throat and chuckling as he replies, “ah…yes, i suppose i am feeling much better indeed.”
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bonus:
you can feel the rhythmic rise and fall of neuvillette’s chest under your cheek, counting his breaths in your head as you lightly trace shapes into his skin. it’s quiet, in your shared bedroom, the slow beginnings of tiredness pulling you into a sleepy, half conscious state.
he breaks the silence before you can fully make the transition to slumber, however.
“while we’re on our trip,” he murmurs, voice clear with excitement as he continues, “i’ll have to take you to taste the local spring water. it’s much purer in flavor when fresh from the source.”
you blink, registering his words for a moment before huffing out an amused, breathy laugh.
“i take it you tried it during your stop?”
“of course,” he confirms, arms pulling your closer as he relaxes deeper into the sheets, “it was a lovely experience.”
“wonderful. i simply cannot wait to be a water connoisseur with you, my love.”
he hums happily, entirely missing the playful bite behind your words as he presses a kiss to the crown of your head.
you think fontaine is due for quite a few sunny days back to back, thanks to your valiant and tireless efforts.
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this is so silly and random lols i just thought neuvi was so cute during that ladle exchange and i think about it often but of course i had to taint it with some reverse comfort because thats what i do best LOL
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bubblebbg · 7 months
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❝𝐨𝐧𝐜𝐞: 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫, 𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐚𝐠𝐚𝐢𝐧❞
Mizu x Reader
- Reader in this fic is of some sort of mixed or foreign descent, but this can also be interpreted as having any trait that would make them a pariah of sorts. Warning, not proofread lol. All spur of the moment.
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When you found the blue eyed stranger laying bloody on a lonely street, you took her in. You keep her warm, fed, and with mends on her wounds. Mizu knows well that there are sacrifices to be made on her path. She doesn't know just how much they can sting.
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Mizu can't quite pinpoint the most irritating part of the pain. The ache of broken bones, the sting of stabs and slices, the consistent ringing in her head; everything hurts, and she supposes that like every other injury, it's all par for the course. Small price to pay for revenge. She knew she'd have to rest at some point, but she didn't expect to be incapacitated, edging on consciousness for days. Every now and then there's a sensation like coolness on her forehead, or water at her lips.
It's on day three that she becomes lucid enough to realize someone's taking care of her. Her distrustful brain is immediately sounding alarms, but her body can do little to react in such a broken state. Mizu can do nothing but lie silent and weak on this futon, sipping medicines and soups when it's brought to her mouth and being patched, cut for cut, wound for wound.
The first thing she notices about you, her caretaker, is your eyes - eyes brimming with concern and care, eyes that catch every weakness of her flesh and seek to heal. She hears your whispers of "poor thing" and "I'll get you healed up in no time". And being Mizu, her first thought is...
"Why?"
She hadn't meant to say it out loud, but she doesn't rush to take it back. Why are you, a stranger, so willing to take care of her? Why are you expending your resources on a broken thing, a mistake that any other sane person would let rot in the street where they found it?
You only smile at her, and in such a way that makes her heart race. Gentle, patient, tentative. She doesn't like it one bit, the way it pulls at doors she's kept locked for years. Her eyes focus, taking in what you look like as you stand and ready yourself to leave the room.
"I don't need your pity!" She manages to choke out. It has you stopping in your tracks.
"It's," she coughs, sputtering on words, "It's because you're just like me, isn't it? You're different. A monster."
The look on your face is one of mild amusement, an eyebrow raised and the corners of your lips upturned. She's not sure if it's that or the confidence in your next words that makes her cheeks heat up.
"I am not a monster. Neither are you."
And you're gone, leaving her to deal with the weight you've left in her chest.
𓆩… . … . … . … . … . … . … . … . … . … . … . … . …𓆪
The days turn into weeks, the weeks into months. With so many parts impaired, it'd only make sense that healing would take this long. Most of all, it's your endless patience that surprises Mizu. When she reopens a wound by carelessly trying to train despite your cautions, you're there patching it up. When she expresses her frustration with not being able to take up the sword yet, you're there reassuring her that it'll all be fine in time. You're kind when she's haughty and sarcastic (which makes her feel guilty, and thus even more indignant), and this extends to others as well. She often sees you helping children or neighbors, anyone in need. You're loved in this town.
It makes her a bit irritated, seeing your kindness bestowed on others. At first she thinks it's because she sees weakness in your actions. Then she thinks it's jealousy - why are you, someone who would otherwise be an outcast like herself, so beloved by your town? How come it didn't turn out this way for her? But when she sees you cooking enough for the both of you and the family next door, stirring slowly as the food steams, she thinks to herself, god, they're even patient when they're cooking. And then it hits her.
She is jealous, but not in the way she thought. In the way that yearns for your priority, that seeks to be the only recipient of your sweet manners and loving nature.
It doesn't help that you've grown close, too close for her liking. There have been nights spent in each other's company, saying nothing but gazing at stars. There have been conversations in which you've both laughed, some in which you cried. Mizu's mind can't help but remind her that this isn't safe; the last time she opened her heart up, it returned battered.
But this - you - feel safe. You dedicated nearly three months to healing her body, all the while you had been patching up wounds the eye can't see.
"I'm leaving," she says meekly on a warm evening, the two of you sat in a field of grass overlooking your village. You look to her and she only stares forward. You suppose it's better than her leaving without telling you, but the pain is no lesser because of the thought.
You take a deep breath and exhale before answering, "I had a feeling."
There's a long silence between the two of you. It's your turn to watch the sun setting over the trees as Mizu looks at your expression, the hints of sadness in her eyes.
"Do you... do you really have to? You are welcome here, you know. You'll always have a home here with me."
The words have Mizu choking up and suppressing the sudden and unnerving urge to cry. What you've done to her in three months still astounds her.
"I do. You know I do. I was always going to have to leave."
Mizu is caught by another urge, the urge to take those words back when she sees streams on your cheeks. You sniffle and hiccup, and it's so much less pleasant than your usual smiling disposition. It hurts in the way no blade ever could.
The sun is disappearing, and she wills herself to stand. If she doesn't, she might never go. She turns to leave and you stand as well. She stops in her tracks when you tug on her sleeve. She faces you and you slowly, carefully bring a hand to the side of her cheek. When she doesn't flinch away, you lean in close. Your lips meet in a kiss that conveys words that neither of you have the power to say.
You pull back after a moment, your forehead pressed to hers and your eyes closed. Your voice is quiet, almost inaudible when you say your goodbye.
"Break my heart once by leaving. Do not break it again by dying."
She turns and leaves while your eyes are still closed. You open them to an empty field, your palm still wet with her tears.
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sadomas0chist · 8 days
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room 609
────── nanami kento
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⤷ general.manager!nanami who can’t help but be seduced by your little receptionist fit and wit.
tw: age gap (20s ; 40s), kind of a slow burn to porn, masturbation (male), seductive touching,mating press, dirty talk, praise, doggy, slight riding, minor daddy kink, oral (fem) , fingering, creampie, unprotected sex, not read proof MDNI
pssst!! i missed you guys so much <3 i hope you enjoy this piece i’ve prepared for you. i’ll get to my inbox asks as soon as i can. love and kisses xoxo
“sir you booked your room b&b, which means your breakfast is included in the pricing of your room regardless if you have it or not. i can’t reimburse you.” you explained for the tenth time to the stubborn guest on the other side of the desk. you’ve already had a long day and were close to ending your shift until he came and disrupted your plans.
“is there a problem here?” he uttered, making both of your heads turn at him. nanami was standing by the reception, probably aware of the silly conflict thanks to the cameras he installed. it was a good thing that not only they showed him what was happening but he could also hear the entire discussion.
you looked down at your french nails, not saying a word as the client went out on his rant. haven’t you done that, you would’ve noticed how your superiors would casually gaze at you, unfazed by the ongoing monologue.
“how about that sir,” nanami spoke up, his eyes now fully fixated on the man. “let’s say i rented a room at your place, bed, and breakfast included, and you end up preparing one of the most exquisite breakfast only for me to reject your hospitality and ask you to pay me back that breakfast, disregarding all the care and effort you put to make me feel at home. how would that make you feel?”
silence. utter and complete awkward silence.
you were so stunned and yet nothing could match the man’s face. this was the first time you heard nanami use that tone, or even speak that much for that matter. you thought he was done until he proceeded: “you booked your room fully aware that you were paying for both the room and the breakfast. i hope there won’t be any further issues.” he adjusted the glasses on his face before stoically watching him pay his stay then check out. “hm if you can’t handle silly conflicts call me. i don’t need to be babysitting you 24/7.”
you couldn’t even reply or apologize as he turned around and left. it took you a minute to realize he undermined your skills and humiliated you. you clenched your teeth and furiously grabbed your bag. you were stomping so hard on the marble floor you were sure that the guests could hear you. “babysitting my ass,” you grunted.
you’ve been working as a receptionist for almost a year. you knew what you were doing but he always had to butt in and comment on everything you did. just to tick you. he clearly didn’t seem to care when your colleague answered a call in front of a guest and began cussing at her sister loudly. but you, whatever you'd do, there was always an aftermath about it with nanami. it wasn't like you were particularly fond of your job, it was only temporary.
you couldn’t say anything to him or complain to anyone about him since he was the general manager of the hotel but your patience was wearing thin and you were seriously considering quitting. nanami was an arrogant man. an attractive one, unfortunately. he could capture the attention of a room in seconds. always composed and well-groomed. god he smelled heavenly too. you could try to deny your tiny crush all you wanted but it was there. his praise meant a lot to you. when you first began working here, his compliments happened often, almost daily. whether it's how much of a 'fast learner you are', or how you're doing 'a good job'. you'd get high on them. having a general manager like nanami praise you was everything you needed to boost your self-esteem. however, the moment you got comfortable around him, throwing a few hand waves whenever you saw him passing by the lobby or even knocking on his door without calling his office first to check if he had time to see you, it was all gone and soon replaced with constant scolding.
you knew that nanami was a serious man. a workaholic. albeit he’d always find ways to slightly touch you, brush up against you, squeeze you into your desk to pass behind you with his hands on your hips to ‘grab some papers’ although he had copies. sometimes he’d even go as far as to reprimand you for unbuttoning the very first two buttons of your dress shirt, scolding you for showing a bad image of his hotel.
“so unprofessional,” he tutted. “this isn’t a brothel. you’re not supposed to seduce the guests.” he murmured as he fixed them for you. you were looking at him with doe eyes, your crush undeniable at that moment, your chest heavily moving as he was unbelievably close to you, his fingers lightly brushing your exposed skin. “i didn’t know that a few buttons could seduce someone.” you lowly replied, your tone lining with slyness and quip. nanami looked down at your chest one last time before humming, his phone ringing in his pocket.
nanami treatment for you was paradoxical. he got off teasing you. especially when you first came into his office to present yourself after your interview. you were wearing your black pencil skirt and loose tucked-in white shirt. as respectful as he was, he was still a man. he couldn't help his eyes that lingered on your exposed legs, up to your tight skirt and beautiful curves. he'd be lying if he didn't think about you spread on his desk, his cock buried inside you with his tie wrapped around your wrists, holding your tits together.
she is so receptive, he’d think. watching you work and obey. you were so obedient to his commands and wishes. made him wonder if you were receptive in bed too.
he saw you the next day going into the hr's office, nobara's, to receive your paycheck. his office wasn’t far and he always passed by each department to check if everything was intact. “thank you so much, oh also could i have tomorrow off?” you inquired as you got up, not sensing the presence of the tall blond man behind you.
“sure but i’d have to double check with mr- oh! there you are!” she shrieked as she saw nanami. you turned your head to catch him looking down at you. he was wearing a black shirt with black chinos. fuck me, you thought. if he didn’t call you out of your daze you’d probably have trailed too far down his body and gawked at his print.
“what do you need your off for? it’s the first of the month.” he deadpanned. truth be told it didn’t matter when you wanted to have your day off as long as your colleagues could cover your shift. moreover, he had no right to ask you why you needed your day off. it was personal and he was breaching your privacy.
“well, mr nanami,” a glimpse sparkled in his eyes at the pronunciation of his name. “i need to have a breath of fresh air. a change of environment.“ you said tilting your head a little to the side. you were holding the envelope between your fingers, waiting for his reply. “i guess if nabora granted you a day off then you should be good to go. have a nice day.”
nanami left to his office, nobara snickering behind you. you got pretty close with her throughout the year. you shared the same interests and often hung out together and tomorrow was going to be one of those days.
you’d go out to blow off some steam — get black-out drunk — and dance around like idiots. your team was amazing and you were so grateful nobara was so fun to be around. everyone was generally nice, well, almost everyone.
you’d go out every once a week. it was your thing. sometimes you’d go to each other's places and have a small gossip about some of your colleagues, sometimes you’d do both.
“god that was so nice,” nobara slurred out as you got to her apartment. your day off paid well. fresh salary got you pretty nails and a pretty meal before you went to the club and had a few shots. it was packed to the brim but you didn’t mind. it was a different atmosphere and you've been dying for some nightlife. you took off your short dress, and a few flashbacks of how you were grinding against the handsome man went through your mind.
if it weren’t for nobara pulling you away to do more shots, you’d probably have gone home with him. both of you were slurring your words, drunkenly spilling the hot gossip about every employee in the hotel.
“— and i told him that! he is just sooooo,” she trailed before proceeding, her hand on your thigh. “dumb!” she laughed, throwing her entire body back and collapsing on her bed. man, you loved work gossip. you were fully entertaining nobara, both of you in your silk pajamas.
you were slowly drifting away, your eyelids getting heavier until she dropped his name in the conversation, your body uncontrollably shooting up. “my my, don’t be so alarmed.” she snickered. “i thought you saw him at the club. i was calling you to come say hi but you were so busy grinding against that hot mess.” she nudged you with her elbow before falling back on her back.
pause. press pause now.
“nanami was there?” you could only mutter out. while you failed to spot him, he, on the other hand, most definitely saw you. your blood ran cold and you began overthinking. you knew he wasn’t your boss outside of your work environment, he couldn’t scold you. yet you kept on worrying.
“hey you good?” she asked worriedly, your face scrunching up. “god you act so weird every time i bring him up. almost as if you like him.” nobara giggled. your eyes widened. “i do not!” you almost yelled defensively.
she was quiet for a second, remembering your interactions with him. how he treated you differently than others. harsher and almost too controlling. as fun as nobara was, she was still one of the smartest people you ever worked with. she could smell it a mile away. you liked him.
“you’re drunk and making things up.” your voice softened up. “he’s so mean. i don’t get why he’s so harsh with me. and all the touching…” you trailed, the alcohol not helping you think clearly. you looked beside you to find nobara asleep, her snores gradually becoming stronger. you scoffed at your friend before grabbing your phone from your purse and rewatching the stories you posted.
you noticed a new name amongst your usual views, your brows furrowing in confusion.
nanamikento
nanami was on social media? and how did he find your account? you used a fake name. knowing you won't be hearing the end of it, you decided to sleep it off and gather all the energy you could need for tomorrow.
you didn't even have time to salute the night audit as the phone rang the second you stepped into the reception area. nanami. you internally sighed and mentally prepared yourself for what you might tell him as you made your way to his office. you knocked on his door and he lowly asked you to come in and have a seat on his leather couches. you take a seat in front of him and before he even has the chance to glance at you, your tongue lets loose. "mr. nanami i know you saw my Instagram stories last night however this is none of your concern and i don’t feel like i should be called in here to be scolded for doing something that isn’t hurtful to my work environment. i'm a highly professional and punctual employee and i strongly believe that i don't need to be hearing any more scolding coming from you."
while you felt empowered by your monologue, nanami didn't seem fazed at all. he glanced up at you when you started talking, not blinking once before deadpanning: "i frankly couldn't bother to care about what you do outside this hotel therefore your personal life is no bother to me. however what does bother me indeed," he said standing up before walking around his desk and towering over you, "is the way you just spoke to me."
god, he was so close you could feel his breath lingering on your lips. it was only natural for you to feel more embarrassed and humiliated about what happened. you gulped before looking up at him, your lips hesitant to move. "mr. nanami i apologize for my rude behavior. i sincerely do. i- i just, you always seem to want to scold me whatever i do and i thought that this time-"
"are you saying i have a poor sense of judgment and scold you because i want to?" his hands were now on each side of the couch, caging you in as he leaned further down. you leaned back, breath labored. he didn't look like it but he was enjoying every second.
she's so beautiful when she's all flustered and red. squeezing her thighs together and fiddling with her pretty nails from embarrassment and i haven't touched her yet. he didn't expect you to answer his question. he was just trying to get you all worked up.
he couldn't help but be mean to you. at first, you were just another e, employee to him. needy of his praise to rise through the ranks and become better and more efficient at their job. needing and thriving for motivational words to get the job done. but the more he spoke to you and watched you get warm around him, the less control he had over himself.
"mr. nanami i printed out all the vouchers you asked for and contacted the travel agency to confirm all the guests for tomorrow's wedding. oh, and i thought i'd ask room service to bring you your lunch here. i couldn't help but notice you didn't have time to sit with us at lunch today." you smiled at him, your hands interlocked as you stood in front of his desk. he grinned at you, grabbing the papers you gently put on his desk with your soft hands. "that's very kind of you y/n. i would've asked you to join me but as you can see i'm busy."
"oh yes, definitely mr. nanami i wouldn't want to bother you anyway. if you'll excuse me i need to go back to the lobby. goodbye." you turned on your heels and exited his office leaving him and his print that was clear as day.
"fhuck," he groaned as he stroked his throbbing cock, his hand leaning against his bathroom in a fist with his head down, eyes shut as he imagined you were sucking him instead. he'd always get worked up because of you. how small and innocent you looked. so kind, so mesmerizing. so fragile compared to him. "fucking hell y/n, mhm," his hand going faster, squeezing his swollen tip. "just like that pretty," he whimpered thinking about your lips wrapped around his tip kissing and teasing his slit before he came all over his hand. nanami breathed out, ashamed that a small interaction turned him into a raging teenage boy fucking his fist secretly in the bathroom. he knew he needed more, touch you, scold you, anything to get a reaction out of you.
"mr. nanami please don't fire me. you're right i poorly acted." your voice snapped him out of his thoughts and he was glad it did or else you'd start by noticing the growing bulge in his dress pants.
he leaned back up and went back to his chair, discreetly fixing himself. "there's a group of guests coming at two in the afternoon, approximately sixty to seventy people. i need you to start working on the rooming list before they arrive to have a smooth check-in and make sure all the rooms are well cleaned." he fixed his glasses and looked at his laptop.
"but, wasn't the rooming list supposed to be done two weeks ago i don't understand." doing this on your own is suicide. it wasn't a small group. he's talking about sixty to seventy people. it's impossible.
"i called you hear for this reason. i need you to do it because unfortunately we just were recently notified due to lack of expertise and this group is going to stay over a few months, losing them would be idiotic." he muttered the last bit and kept on typing on his laptop. "you are dismissed. i trust you can get the work done."
your eyebrows arched up as your mind wondered if your ears were playing tricks on you or if he just said something nice. you decided to ignore it and go back to work. you had no time to waste and to your bad luck, today you were alone at the front desk.
"i’m actually so tired i cannot feel my fingers. i’ve been typing all day nonstop only to be rewarded with a small good job from nanami. like i literally cannot take his shit anymore, i told you what happened earlier in his office." you huffed. "i don’t understand why he acts this way with me! he’s so indifferent and i genuinely can't stand him." you dropped onto her bed lying back and looked up at the ceiling. she snickered and laughed next to you. she knows you're annoyed because of your silly crush. parts of you wanted him to be jealous of that guy you were rubbing yourself on. god knows he was.
"well," she paused as she sat next to you. "you’re gonna have to tolerate him tonight babes because we are seeing him outside of work. now before you start talking again," she exclaimed silencing you with a finger against your lips and making you pout. "we all had a tiring day today and we know we’re going to be quite busy and overwhelmed for the next few months to come so the owner decided to give some of us, well the hard workers, access to one of his private members' club to blow off some steam and award us for the general good job we’ve been doing. anyway, nanami is gonna be there so i want you to get over the crush you have on him and no don't deny it because the sooner we can get ready the better."
you glare at her. nobara was right but you were a stubborn person. "absolutely not". you interject as you stand up and throw your phone on the bed. "i am not going out to party with a man who constantly insults me. i refuse to go out with a man who looks down on me for no reason and have to pretend to enjoy my time tonight around him just so he doesn’t have any smart retort to say to me. i want to dress up however i want, i want to dance, i want to drink and I want to get black-out drunk and not have anyone reprimand me or scold me for my behavior and i’m not going to be able to do that if he’s going to be there." you put your hands on your waist and sighed when you caught nobara holding her laughter with pursed lips.
"nobara i can see that you’re going to burst." she starts laughing and falls back on her back. "oh man, i didn't know you cared about nanami kento that much. lord," she kept on laughing, her mouth wide open and arms holding her stomach. "girl fuck you." you blushed. "i'm not going and that's final." you rolled your eyes, and sat on her couch.
this was starting to become very frustrating.
"this place is amazing!" nobara yelled in your ear as you walked into the club. you ended up caving in. although you had your stand on the situation, you still wanted to see him. you wanted to look at him. you were curious to know if he dressed differently outside of work or if he acted differently. you were feeling pretty confident. you looked stunning. a black dress that wrapped beautifully around your body and matching black, red bottom heels.
his eyes landed on you the second you stepped through the door. he was sitting on one of the couches where the other invitees were, swirling his bourbon in his hand. once he noticed nobara spotting him, he stood up, downing his drink in one swing, and adjusted his clothes.
you locked eyes with him, your heart dropping instantly. he was wearing a black shirt with its sleeves rolled up to his elbows, and casual pants that fit him just perfectly and tonight he wasn't wearing his glasses. he is so handsome, you thought to yourself. nobara walked up to him first, hugging him casually as if he wasn't her superior.
you, on the other hand, were too shy to do so as well. instead, you extended your hand, only for him to catch it and pull you to his chest, arm wrapping around your waist tightly while his other arm was wrapped around your shoulders to rest his hand on your head, keeping you in place. your heart was beating so fast you could hear it beat louder than the music around you.
you closed your eyes, taking into his smell as your arms unconsciously found their way around his back, the pads of your fingers lingering on the muscles. "you smell good," he whispered in your ear, your skin burning at his compliment. "you look stunning as well," he added before letting you go of his embrace, your heart sinking at the loss of his touch. "thank you, you look good yourself." you said, the tips of your ears red. you were going to explode.
and just when you thought it couldn't get any better, you saw him smile at you. a genuine ass smile. did he have too much to drink? you couldn't6 think about anything else to say as your hand was abruptly taken by nobara to drag you to the bar to do shots.
you glanced at him one last time before your view was hidden by the people in the crowd.
"i'm so fucking hammered!" nobara exclaimed while the others cheered with her, doing more shots. everyone looked so drunk. you didn't let yourself drink too much. you couldn't afford to be drunk and forget about what happened with nanami or worse, act like a drunk in front of him. that couldn't happen. you had to stay composed.
"let's dance! come on y/n show them!" nobara cheered while you shook your head, everyone else encouraging you. "come on we're all gonna dance." another coworker said.
you were dragged to the dancefloor and decided to just enjoy it. at the end of the day, you were here to blow off some steam and this is what you were about to do. you danced and swayed your hips to the music, laughing at nobara's weird dance moves. it's the first time you realize how ridiculous she looks drunk dancing.
hands on your waist made you jump, your hands over them, eager to get them off you. "it's me," nanami reassured you in your ear. you looked around only to find out that it was really him, hands on your waist, moving with you to the music, your back pressed firmly against him. your ass rubbed against him while you moved, only making him hold you tighter. "mr nanami, i don't think this is appropriate." you try to say, not wanting anyone to get the wrong idea.
"they're all drunk," he turned you around, his hands dropping to your hips. "you don't mind dancing with a stranger but you do so with me?" he cocked his eyebrow, his face turning as he looked down at you.
part of you was giddy about it. so it did bother him.
"i thought you didn't care mr nanami-"
"kento." he deadpanned. "call me kento."
"kento..." you muttered, your eyes softening at him as you wrapped your arms around his neck only to drop them at his shoulders. you wanted to touch him all over.
"i lied. it enraged me. i felt jealous, i wanted to be the one to touch you like he did, better than he did." you felt dizzy. you were a smart girl though. it slowly started making sense to you. the bullying, the accidental touching. all of it.
"you want to touch me kento?" you reached to his ear to whisper, kissing his ear before tugging at his lobe. you dragged his hand down your ass, urging him to touch you. you could hear him hiss, his hand now gripping your ass. "hm." he hummed feeling the plump of your ass.
the music was so loud and everyone was acting promiscuously drunk around you. no one seemed to notice how gentle nanami’s touch was on you despite the atmosphere that would invite to a harsher and more sexual kind of touching. he was allowing his hand to go over your curves, giving himself permission to drag his fingers underneath the curve of your ass, up your hips and waist to finally caress your cleavage.
as much as he’s been dreaming about ripping off your clothes and taking you on his desk, he couldn’t bring himself to be rough with you.
you looked so beautiful so gentle. “kento?” your voice drove his eyes back to yours. “so gorgeous,” he put his hand on your cheek. “so soft,” your skin was on fire. you felt your goosebumps rise as his thumb worked his way to separate your lips.
“take me to your place.” your boldness taking him by surprise. you wrapped your hand around his bicep, pressing yourself further into him.
“i can’t, it’s not appropriate.” nanami coughed, still holding you against him, not truly convinced by his own statement.
you looked at the blond male with doe eyes, tilting your head. pushing yourself up on the tip of your toes you gave his neck a small kiss, feeling his body tense up as you did so. “please,” you begged against his skin. “please kento,” you kept on giving his skin kitten kisses, his fingers almost digging into your skin.
he looked down at your pleading eyes, then down to your cleavage that was pressing against him. “the things you do to me,”
“what things?” you whisper, your lips almost touching his. you were feeling a bit more courageous now that you’ve discovered that your crush was clearly reciprocated. “don’t you wanna show me?” you finger trailed down his chest to his pants before poking his print. he choked in some air, quickly having a sense of alert as he skimmed his surroundings, not wanting anybody to start any gossip.
“they’re all drunk nanami, it’s just you and me,” you reached out to his face, turning him so he could face you again.
without any second thought, he wrapped his big hand around yours and dragged you out of the crowded dance floor towards the exit. you couldn’t help but bite down on your smile, watching how his back muscles flexed as he made his way through the dancing bodies, carefully ever checking that you were still following him although he had your hand secured in his.
once you were outside, he asked the valet to bring up his car. his hand on your thigh the whole ride, giving you small caresses of reassurance. you couldn’t help but take notice of his tenderness, how handsome his looked while driving. you wondered if he looked that good being on top of you as well.
and he was.
“kento~” you whimpered, your legs resting on his shoulders as he bullied his fat cock inside you. you’d try to move around, get more, feel more.
“be my good girl and let daddy take care of you.” he rolled his hips into you, your warmth and wetness coating him. the nickname he had given himself already making you all wobbly.
you nodded, your eyebrows furrowed as he thrusted at an unbelievably slow aching pace, giving you long and deep stroke against your walls. “if only you knew,” he grunted, pulling back before pushing back in all that once, earning a small yelp from your beautifully parted lips. “how much i’ve been wanting to fold you like this.” nanami rested his forehead against yours, his lips capturing yours.
you moaned against his lips, your fingernails tracing shapes on his muscled back as he picked his pace up. nanami’s kisses were hungry, a real evidence of his earlier statement. he’s been wanting this for so long. “kento, you feel so good inside me,” you murmured through his lips, grabbing the back of his neck to pull him closer.
your words made him tremble, his hips slamming faster against your thighs. “i never want to get out, god i want to fill you up so badly,” he stated almost in a weak whimper. you rocked your hips with him, trying to meet him at each move. but he was unpredictable.
flipping you around and arching your back, getting a full view of your ass and swollen cunt. “so messy,” he dragged his finger across your folds making you shiver, before pushing his finger in. you moaned out, your hand reaching to hold onto the headboard.
he was having fun with you now, pushing his finger at first then adding another, before removing them both to rub on your abused clit only to stop before your climax to finger you again.
“kento please,” you whimpered trying to move yourself back and get some friction from his dick but he tutted, removing your hand away. “you’re my good girl remember? my good girl always does what she’s told isn’t that right?” he inquired, rubbing his swollen tip against your entrance.
you nodded against his scented pillow, submissively putting both hands behing your back, showing your surrender to him. “that’s it, such a good fucking girl,” he muttered, his length pushing against your folds again, this time a tad harsher accompanied with a spank on your cheeks. “so good darling, so good,”
his nicknames got you high. his praise got you high. your hips were thrown back, almost as if you were managing his thrusts. he let you, watching how you would roll your hips and guide yourself through your orgasm.
“kento…” you whimpered, tears filling your eyes as you creamed over his girth. “come for daddy sweetheart that’s it,” he encouraged you, wrapping his hand around you to toy with your clit, sending you over the edge.
“so messy,” he chuckled watching you lose control over him. nanami pulled out and before you could complain he was down on his knees and eating your cum that was leaking from your abused hole. “oh my god, fhuck yes daddy,” you rode his face, enjoying the feeling of his tongue scooping your cum, his hands firmly gripping your ass to pull your cheeks apart.
you felt yourself overstimulated, ready for another orgasm. he could feel it too by the way your thighs were jiggling.
using his middle and ring finger, nanami spread you again, curling them inside your walls to rub your spot. you were such a mess. creaming on his fingers and blabbering on his pillow.
“you’re so sensitive, i love it,” he smirked, giving your ass a small bite before licking off your cum from his fingers.
you felt his weight lie next to you, rolling your body over. “are you okay?” he carefully pushed the hair away from your face. you nodded with a smile. once you realized he was done it quickly faded.
“you haven’t came yet.” you held his arm. he chuckled. “but you did. plus you seem tired i don’t want to push myself.” he sheepishly said.
you shook your head refusing. “no,” you got up and straddled him, lining his dick to your entrance before fully sitting on him.
“holy fuck what are you doing?” nanami asked you, watching you wrap your arms around him. “gonna make you come inside me,” you sultry answered, to which he held your hips with his hands, guiding your bouncing body. his lips parted to the way your eyes rolled back. you looked so fucked out it was mesmerizing.
you tits bouncing up and down with the motions of your body followed by yelps of his name.
“come inside me daddy,” you mewled in his ear, holding onto his shoulders. you could feel him groan as he began to fuck himself up into you, soon unloading his balls inside you.
you felt dizzy to the feeling of his warm seed, grinding yourself on him to make sure to receive it all.
you rested your face in the crook of his neck before letting out a small laughter. “never thought you’d be such a dirty man mr. nanami,”
he only laughed in return. “and you haven’t even seen the beginning of it.”
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moonlightndaydreams · 30 days
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Part 2: horny!jisung x fem!reader // Hyunjin // Minho
a/n: after leaving this quickie on a cliffhanger, I’ve had various requests to write a follow up… so here it is 🤗
Where we left off in Part 1:
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Jisung wants a quickie with you in the backseat of Minho’s van at the gas station while Hyunjin and Minho finish paying for fuel and snacks. You’re both about to come when they are back at the car and are reaching for the door handle.
CW: unprotected p in v, exhibitionism, cream pie, oral sex (m. rec.), fingerfucking, blow jobs, cum swallowing, sharing y/n, pet names (kitten, baby, beautiful), alluding to future partner sharing.
You both halt your movements, quieting your breaths as best you can as the two front doors open and Minho and Hyunjin climb in.
“Fuckin’ expensive.” Minho comments on the fuel price as he pulls out of the gas station.
“So’s the snacks. Hey do you guys want so—” Hyunjin turns to look into the backseat. “Oh my fucking God!” He wails.
“What?” Minho glances back. “Oh you’re fucking kidding me. Can’t you two wait ten minutes?”
“We’re not doing anything! It’s innocent. I swear.” Whines Jisung. “Ngh.” A little whimper slips out of him when you clench around him as Minho turns a corner a little too sharp.
“Come on. You’ve both got your pants down around your legs.” Minho sneers. “Go on…You might as well keep going.”
“Really?!” Jisung says excitedly. “Baby, grind on me.” He starts you rock you back and forth on his cock.
“Sungie? I’m not sure. They might not really want to hear how loud we get, or how…wet… I sound.” You peer out from hooded eyes towards Minho.
Hyunjin turns around again wide eyed. “I wanna hear all of it.” He smirks.
————
You find yourself bouncing hard on Jisung’s cock. His hands up the front of your hoodie, groping at your tits, while your cunt makes the most obscene sounds as it slaps against his body.
Your pornographic moans are bound to be making every cock in the car throb with need.
Jisung isn’t any quieter, his sounds ranging from deep grunts to high pitched whines fill the car too.
Minho adjusts the rear view mirror so he can watch the show, and Hyunjin is munching on crisps and letting out a moan of his own every so often.
“Sungie, come inside me baby. You know you wanna fill me up.” You encourage, your voice full of desperation.
“Fuck… I do… I do baby.” He pants and fucks you harder.
“Sungie… oh…ngh…I’m coming baby.” You close your eyes and throw your head back. “Fuck Sungie…feels s’good….that’s it fuck me through it…yeah…like that.”
As you ride out your high, you feel Jisung get even harder inside you. He’s close.
“Please…please…fill this pussy up. That’s it, Sungie..fill me up...” You purr as hits his climax, emptying himself with the cutest whimper on his lips.
There is a collective moan throughout the car. Then silence, except your yours and Jisung’s laboured breathing.
“Oh my god.” You drawl as you roll yourself off of Jisung and close your eyes blissfully.
You’re caught off guard when suddenly the back doors open and Minho is pulling Jisung out of the car, and he and Hyunjin clamber into the backseat with you.
“You’re driving the rest of the way, Ji.” Minho states. You look around to see Minho has pulled over at the side of the road.
“Just drive. There’s something Hyunjin and I need to do.”
Jisung looks at you and you see the excitement in his eyes. You bite your lip and nod.
He slips into the drivers seat and turns to you between the two front seats. “Baby. Our wish is coming true.” He whispers.
You lean forward and kiss him deeply.
“Make sure you’re really loud for me.” He strokes your cheek tenderly. “I don’t want to miss a single choking sound, or a pretty whimper. Can you do that for me?” He leans his forehead in yours.
“Yes, Sungie.” You whisper.
“It’ll get me so hard that when we get home, you’d better be ready, ‘cos I’m gonna fuck you so good. Would you like that, baby?”
You nod quickly. “You’d fuckin’ better, Sungie.”
“Come on, y/n. let us play with you.” Hyunjin leaves your sweatpants dangling around your thighs, but pulls up your pretty thong so he can admire your ass against the red lace. “Stunning.” He massages a cheek and licks his lips. "Look at all that cum sticking to your panties, gorgeous. Ji really gave you a bucket load, didn’t he?”
“Kitten.” Minho squeezes your other ass cheek and gives it a light slap. “Show me what your pretty mouth can do.” He gently pulls you towards him. “You made me so hard fucking Ji like that. Now I need you to finish what you started.” he nods towards his crotch.
He was so hard underneath his sweats, the outline of his erection clear as day. You swallow hard as you reach for the waistband and tug them down to free his cock. Mouthwatering.
Your carefully wrap your hand around him and lick his shaft, getting it nice and wet for your hand to slide up and down. You work his length with your hand as you lick around the head, finishing by gliding the flat of your tongue over the slit. Minho sucks in a breath. “Stop teasing. I need to be in your mouth. I have to feel your lips around me.”
You look up at him coyly, then smirk, before sinking over him. He releases a low groan.
Hyunjin caresses and squeezes your ass, then slips a finger under your underwear, pulling it to the side to run a finger along your slit. “Gotta put all this cum back in you. Ji would want you to keep it safe.” He scoops some cum that had spilled from you and pushes it back inside. “There you go. Back where it belongs.”
You whimper as Hyunjin’s fingers reach deep inside you.
Jisung groans in response. “She likes that. She likes to be finger fucked." he says hoarsely from the driver's seat.
Hyunjin sucks in a breathe between his teeth. "Is that so?" he withdraws his finger and pushes it back in. "Pretty." he cooes and adds a second digit your cunt.
"Our kitten knows what she's doing. Sucking cock like this. Fuck you can take a lot can't you. Ji, you're a lucky shit, you know that right?" he calls to Jisung.
"I am lucky. But I can't hear any choking sounds. Aren't you gonna fuck her face?"
You moan around Minho's cock as Hyunjin manages to add a third finger.
"But, she's doing so well on her own." Minho chuckles and wraps his fingers around your ponytail. "But if you wanna hear her choke, okay." He holds your head still and thrusts his hips up so his cock hits the back of your throat.
You automatically gag, making a strained choking sound. You know Jisung gets off on hearing you struggle, so you try as hard as you can to be noisy for him.
The car jerks to the side, clearly Jisung is affected. You smile internally.
Minho picks up his pace, steadily becoming rougher with each thrust. You no loner need to exaggerate the struggle, Minho is truly assaulting your throat now. The tears are real, there is so much saliva. You're writhing and grinding your hips back on Hyunjin's fingers as he scissors and stretches you.
"So wet, pretty girl. I can't tell what's you and what's Ji anymore. Fuck. So noisy too." your cunt squelches loudly every time he thrusts his fingers into you.
You're on the brink of your second orgasm when you feel Minho release his load deep into your throat. "Swallow it, kitten. I need to know it's in your belly." He pulls your head off his cock. "Show me." he demands, his voice strained. You open your mouth wide and stick your tongue out.
"Good girl." he growls and crashed his lips on yours. This is the first time you and Minho have kissed, well all of this is a first, but there's something so intimate about the way his tongue seeks yours, that has you melting against him. He swallows your moans then peels away. "Now," he says breathlessly. "You need to fix Hyunjin."
You do as you're instructed and turn yourself around to take care of Hyunjin. His cock is already out and leaking pre-cum, ready for you. You take him in your hand, ensuring you give him as much attention as you did Minho. Licking along the shaft, giving the tip a chaste kitten lick. Then you take him as deep as you can in your mouth. "Your lips look so pretty around my cock. Swallow me up. Be a good girl for me." He sighs.
As you bob up and down over his long cock, you feel Minho's fingers spreading you open. "So fucking wet." he growls squeezing three fingers into your needy hole. "Now let's make this pussy come."
He starts to fuck you fast with his fingers, aiming every single thrust directly into your sweet spot. You want to cry out, but your sounds are muffled. Your legs start to quiver.
“Feels good doesn’t it, kitten? Look at you trembling.” He keeps digging at that spot relentlessly. “Gonna cum for us? Make a mess on my fingers.”
Your legs almost give out entirely as your body can take no more of this agonising pleasure, and you come hard all over Minho’s hand.
“Fuck, baby!” Jisung cries from the driver’s seat. “So fucking good for them.”
Hyunjin growls, finally fucking into your mouth. He is longer than Minho and you gag pathetically around him. “Drain me, beautiful. Ngh.” With a small whimper you feel ropes of cum hit your throat. There is so much, you’re not sure how you’re going to swallow everything. But you’re a good girl, so you make sure you don’t waste a drop.
Minho yanks your sweats back up and taps you affectionately on the ass.
“Baby, that was so hot. I’m so hard again, just from hearing all that.” Jisung hums approvingly from the front.
“You know, Ji? Next time you’ll have to let us fuck her while you watch.” Minho says.
“Yeah, you’ll probably cum untouched.” Adds Hyunjin.
You meet Jisung’s eyes in the rear view mirror and he winks at you slyly as he pulls up in your driveway.
A/n: always wear a seatbelt in a moving vehicle.
Also… I hope you enjoyed this little scenario. I seem to be accumulating car related sex and might make a masterlist dedicated to car rendezvous.
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@channieandhisgoonsquad @noellllslut @itsseohannbin @chansbabyg @kangnina @weareapackofstrays @xxkissesforchanniexx @enjaken @queen-in-the-shadows @bethanysnow @newhope8 @chuuchuu1224 @vanillacupcakefrosting @3rachasdomesticbanana @fun-fanfics @palindrome969 @wolfennracha @rhonnie23 @jisunglyricist @strayywayy @yaorzu-blog @rixenluv @livzposts @jehhskz @aalexyuuuhm
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thebibliosphere · 9 months
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I love how transparent you are about what its like to be a self published author in this day and age, and i was just wondering if there was a difference on your side between amazon ebook/paperback and audible - and also if Scribd is any better, because i use it as an alternative to amazon whenever possible (and whenever the library doesnt own a copy of whatever im looking for) is it functionally all the same? What is best for you?
Thank you!
I actually did a huge long post a while back when I got the audiobooks produced and uploaded to various platforms. I included Scribd in the breakdown after people falsely claim that Scrib is better for authors than Amazon/Libraries.
A lot of people were not happy when I burst that particular bubble by showing that Scribd paid me 97 cents out of the 19.99 price tag. Which is less than what Audible paid me.
Now, obviously, Scribd is different because it's a subscription service, and you’re paying for access to multiple things with that subscription. But saying it is better than libraries is just false because I also showed the numbers for that, and my income from libraries was several times higher than both Scribd and Amazon combined (for audio), which is why authors are always begging people to request their work in libraries.
Libraries pay us better and are usually free. Not always. I know it depends heavily on the country, but for most of my English-speaking audience, that is the case.
Now, this is not to say people shouldn’t use services like Scribd. If Scribd is what you can afford and it gives you access to things your library can’t fantastic. Please continue to access our work through that legal option. I would much rather earn 97 cents than zero.
But uh, yeah, Amazon pays me more than Scrib for digital stuff and I really don’t like when people who aren’t on the author side spread misinformation and frame it as some more “gotcha.”
The sad truth is Most retailers pay us the same or within the same royalty range. The difference I earn between Kobo vs Kindle is literal pennies with Amazon coming out on top. I make my work available on multiple platforms to give people options, but unless you’re buying directly from my personal storefront, it's all roughly the same.
I do actually earn more from Amazon paperbacks than I do any other retailers (for self-pub, paperbacks are a flat rate regardless of how much a retailer is charging), but the difference is about ten cents, so I always tell people to buy from wherever is best for them.
I like bookshop.org because they give some of the profit on their end to indie bookstores. Same with libro.fm for audio.
Audiobooks are just a whole fucking nightmare. Audible sets your price point for you and takes 80% of your royalties. And because Audible does that, I have to then use that price tag on all other platforms or risk being fucked by the algorithm gods. Other audio retailers take about 60-70% in royalties, most of them veering toward 70%.
As we say in radical acceptance therapy, it is what it is—fucking end-stage monopoly driven capitalism.
Now, speaking personally, when it comes to digital media, I earn the most royalties from my Payhip store where I keep 90% of my income.
That's the best place for me.
It's also why it's worth looking up an author you like to see if they have their own storefront. It doesn't help our sales rankings or put us on any bestseller lists, but frankly after launch week, who cares. I’ll take being able to feed me and my dog.
I hope that helps!
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unholyhelbig · 2 months
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fuck yes wandanat!!!
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Center picture Cred: Jadiakallisti
Title: The Beast You've Made of Me [Part 1/7]
Ship: Female!Reader x Natasha Romanoff x Wanda Maximoff
Wordcount: 3977
Summary: When reader wakes up in her own grave, she's suddenly aware of a past that spans lifetimes, but she's not the only one. Two Avengers are tasked with keeping readers past a secret, or at the very least, controlled.
Warnings: Being buried alive, claustrophobia, guns, general violence, cold leftovers and horrible grammar.
[a/n: Let me know if anyone wants to join the taglist! I should be able to post every week to bi-weekly depending on some travel! This is setting some things up, but I promise it gets better.]
[ Part one | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five | Part Six | Part Seven ]
Main Masterlist | Read my stuff on AO3 | Leave Requests
The weight of dirt was beginning to make the lid of the state provided casket buckle. It wasn’t very sturdy despite its drastic price that the government contemplated paying. It would have been easier to cremate, send you into the afterlife with the kiss of fire white-hot enough to melt bone. But your will had been specific, not necessarily written by you, but detailing that you must be buried, nonetheless.
No state representative wanted to have the ghost of a twenty-something paralegal on their hands. Though most were Roman Catholic and believed whole-heartedly that once a candle was lit in recognition a spirit couldn’t possibly seek vengeance. Still, they respected your wishes.
No, not your wishes. You were too young to even think of a will, or any specifications that would result in your burial. You still swallowed two cans of candle-flavored alcoholic seltzer with your sad dinner of microwaveable lasagna. You hadn’t made a habit of signing legal documents between sloppy bites and buzzed naps in the sun.
Which begged the question of why you were in a casket in the first place, and why dirt was starting to sprinkle down from the creaking wood above. Doctors made mistakes, but burying you alive? Well- shit, that was less of a mistake and more of a deliberate ignorance.
Your body was stiff, cold and unwelcoming to the life that suddenly thrummed through you. Maybe you had been dead. Nothing two full bottles of Advil couldn’t ebb out of you. Your fingertips pushed against the fabric lining, testing the validity of the box you were in.
This was all somehow extremely familiar; the darkness that swam around you, the putrid scent of your own breath after being beneath the earth for God knows how long. You could taste the film on your teeth and almost craved a toothbrush more than you did freedom. Almost.
Despite the pain in your calves, you situated yourself to where your feet pressed against the lid. With just a little leverage maybe you could push hard enough to free yourself. There was a rhythmic shoveling above; so you weren’t completely packed in yet.
Suddenly, very thankful for the yoga classes Jennifer was making you take, you maneuvered until you got enough strength to push. For a few agonizing moments, nothing budged except your spine. Fuck, fuck, fuck. A few more breaths and a harder push and the latches on the outside of the casket seemed to give way to the pressure with a small pop. You could taste dirt, feel it in your eyes.
Another brisk shove and the lid flung off it’s hinges, crashing loudly against the meticulously carved grave. You winced at the cold soil that suddenly surrounded you. Worms squirmed against your skin and that was enough for you to sit up with gusto, holding back a stomach full of vomit. Formaldehyde? It tasted terrible, either way.
You shivered and dusted yourself off. It was either early morning or just before dusk. You couldn’t tell but the electric blue sky had just started to fade to orange. You wouldn’t have been able to handle the sun being in full force, barely blinking away the color of the world, much brighter than the dark box you’d dismantled.
And boy, did you dismantle it. You’d only intended to push it up, free yourself, but the cheap wood had splintered and crumbled under just a little force. You stood in the wreckage and peered up at the company you had obtained.
“What the fuck?!”
It was a man who looked younger than you in his fear. He held a shovel in his hands, hugging it close to his chest. His mouth was slightly opened and his deep brown eyes were widened in fear and shock. The knees of his dark blue jumpsuit were stained with dirt and water.
“Can you give me a boost?” You croaked.
“A boost… I, fuck, I shouldn’t’ have taken this job.”
“You can quit after you help me out of this hole.” You shivered, looking down at the dirt below your feet. You swore you saw it pulse like a heartbeat. Too many worms, maybe even a few spiders. You’d never been too fond of bugs. You reached your caked hand up. “Please.”
He made a small noise in the back of his throat. “I don’t want to be patient zero.”
“Do I look like a zombie to you?”
“A little,”
“Now I’m offended and freezing my ass off.”  
He regarded you, probably checking for a nasty festering bite, yellowing skin and any general signs of reanimation. When he didn’t find any, he reached a shaking hand down to you. Both of you struggled and strained until you found the perfect hold on the side of the grave. God- you were never so happy to touch grass.
You panted and stared up at the sky, stars were starting to pockmark the navy blue. It was, in fact, night. The metal tip of a shovel was pointed towards your neck. “Aw, come on, I thought we bonded there.”
“I’m talking to a corpse, we are not bonding.”
“Where are we?” You ignored his pointed stare and tilted yourself up on your elbows. A cemetery was the easy answer. But you wanted to know which one. There were at least 1,700 in the state of New York alone, and they all looked deceivingly the same. “Do I have to take a cab to Manhattan?”
“Uh, you’re in White Plains. Mount Calvary cemetery. I’m- I’m sorry, is this not freaking you out at all?”
You frowned, patting the pockets of a pair of jeans (why the hell would they bury you in jeans, they were the worst). In a long exhale you said. “Shit. I think worms ate my cash.”
It was a longshot to even think that your phone would be in your pocket. It wasn’t. But that left you stranded almost an hour, by car, outside of the city. It would be morning by the time you made it back and that was if no-one pulled up to the side of the road and tried their luck.
You did the only thing you can think of and peered up at this stranger with watery, wide eyes. It wasn’t a move you pulled often, meaning it still worked on Jennifer, on your mother and your father. This was a last resort and you were certainly willing to use it to your advantage.
“What? No.” He shook his head “No! No! Absolutely not. You just dug yourself out of a grave I fucking refuse-“
His name was Austin and he drove a 2002 Ford that needed to warm up for a few minutes before he even considered pulling out of the gravel drive. He was pressed as far as possible away from you and that didn’t exactly boost your confidence, but honestly, truthfully, you would take what you could get at this point.
Austin asked if you were freaking out, and you were. Everything was patchy and black in some places. You couldn’t remember how you’d ended up in a casket. It was clearly a situation that irked you for more than one reason. The forefront of which; no one had attended your funeral.
You weren’t even from White Plains. You’d known from your day job that this place had more than one government funded cemetery. So, most likely, you were given a half-rate priest with liquor on his breath and a funeral director that may have taken the twenty from your pocket, not the worms.
Your stomach clenched as Austin began to drive. He was tapping his fingers against the steering wheel nervously, and could you blame him? A corpse was in his passenger seat. Though, you felt alive enough.
“What’s your name?” He eventually asked, flicking on his high beams. You were on a long and deserted road flanked by oak trees. The occasional field passed by, the reflective quarter-sized eyes of cows blinking at the truck. “Frankenstein?”
You snorted, “Ha-ha. Frankenstein was the doctor, not the monster, you know? And I don’t remember my pitiful grave being struck by lightning.”
“You’re deflecting.”
“Perhaps.”
“Pitiful? Really? I work hard to maintain those graves.”
“I’m sure they’re lovely.” There was a rolling beat of silence. He glanced at you twice before shrugging his shoulders and leaning his chest closer to the wheel to see better. “It’s y/n. Wasn’t it written on the stone?”
Austin shook his head softly, “No, they don’t put the stone in until later. I’m supposed to spray paint a neon ‘x’ on the packed dirt, so they know what to make.”
How humiliating. You’d supposedly died, no one came to your funeral, and you were reduced to less than a quarter of spray paint. There was a system to everything, but this one made your self-importance fizzle out like a covered candle. There one moment and gone the next.
“Do you have a plan?” Austin changed the subject.
“A plan?”
“Yeah, like, are you just going to show up and say surprise, I’m alive? I’ve seen a lot of horror movies and that never goes well.”
Well, that was your plan. It was a damned good one too. There was nowhere else for you to go. While this near stranger was nice enough, you couldn’t impose on him for more than a single ride. His kind chocolate stare was telling enough. He would let you stay with him as long as it took to figure all of… this, out.
“Yeah,” You sighed out, leaning your head against the cool glass “That’s all I’ve got.”
Jennifer’s apartment building had a small box that required a code for entry. You knew the right numbers to press in the right order, they had faded away from regular use, but the door was always propped open by a cinderblock to let in the cool summer air.
If it rained hard enough, New Yorkers would take partial shelter under the awnings, and sometimes going as far as to loiter in the front lobby by the large set of mailboxes. They were the oldest and most fascinating part of the building, large and wrought iron. Allegedly, they’d survived three building fires.
Thankfully, no one but you stood in the lobby as you watched Austin’s taillights flicker out of existence. You’d have to thank him later- of course, you hadn’t gotten his number, but you knew where her work. At least where he worked up until now.
Escorting someone who had kicked their way out of their own grave back into the city was grounds for quitting, in your book.
The elevator was the second oldest thing in the building, but you somehow felt a wave of relief wash over you when the familiar warmth pressed against your skin. The mechanics jolted and hummed like an old lawn mower. All of these were comfortable.
Hunger tinged at your stomach in one fail swoop of feeling. You steadied yourself against the reflective interior of the elevator as it rose to the highest floor. Each number was signified in a loud and crude beep. You were tempted to hit the emergency stop; gaging the feeling in your abdomen.
Brains?
Yeah, the thought of them was absolutely unappetizing. Austin had gotten into your head. There was no innate need to dig your teeth into flesh and devour. In fact, you became more nauseous at the idea than before it popped into your head.
Zombies were chained to shitty horror movies you and Jennifer curled up to watch every Friday night, making fun of the gelatin that was used for wiggly guts and the cooked rice substituted for maggots. You could go for rice right now.
Knowing your best friend, she would have some sort of left-over cuisine in her fridge and you didn’t hesitate to run your fingers over the top of the doorframe to procure her hidden key, taped with a single strip of adhesive to the surrounding paneling.
Her apartment was dark save for the small tank with a one-finned goldfish named Gus. He barely regarded you, the dull buzz of his home and the pale blue light gave you all the vision you needed. Again, the familiarity of Jennifer’s apartment warmed you, comforted you. If you stopped for too long, you’d think about it all too much.
Waking up in a grave, not remember how you got there in the first place. When was the last time you’d had a meal? You’d purposefully avoided the side mirrors in Austin’s car, even the rearview was gently nudged by your dirt-caked hand. One thing at a time.
The fridge swung open with a satisfying pop and you were never more thankful for the red and white takeout containers that rested on the top shelf next to a box of wine. Neither of you ever claimed to be fancy.
You knew Jennifer’s order like the back of your hand. Sweet and sour chicken with a side of fried rice and no matter what, you would eat it cold. When the scent hit you, you even considered going forkless. If not for the slick dirt under your nails, you would have.
There was instant satisfaction in shoveling a mouthful of rice into your mouth, you barely chewed before swallowing. The neon light from the open fridge illuminated your shame and you swore that Gus, the one-finned fish, was judging you. He ate flakes for fucks sake, watching you spoon cold leftovers was the least of his worries.
You’d moved on from the rice and to the chicken before you noticed that you had company. It was a shift in the air, the feeling of being watched. But there was something more too, something like an itch on the back of your neck.
In a split second you turned from your cold meal and lifted your hand up with enough time to grip a wedge golf club that Jennifer had gotten from her father for her twenty-first birthday. They collected dust next to her coatrack, and right now, the metal edge was less than an inch away from slamming into the side of your temple.
You’d never been necessarily graceful, nor good at picking up on your surroundings. You never had to be, not with your work as a paralegal. The worst thing you had to look out for was a bad reaction to burnt office coffee.
Jenn was in an oversized Pink Floyd t-shirt and a pair of boxers, her eyes were wild, hair even wilder. A bloom of fondness wash over you despite her attempt at assault. You couldn’t blame her either, your mind so one-track on getting a meal that you hadn’t warned your best friend, not in the slightest.
“Fuck! What the fuck!” she wrenched the club away from you and moved to swing again, holding it behind her head like a baseball bat.
“Jesus Christ! Oh my God, put the wedge down!”
“You’re not-“She gulped in a cold breath of air “you died!”
“Don’t hit me with that thing and kill me again!”
Her chest was heaving up and down, fingers tightening against the rubber grip handle. Her eyes were frantic. “Did you eat my leftovers?”
You blinked at her, not sure what to say. She didn’t give you a chance to answer either, instead she sprung forward and wrapped you in a bone-crushing hug. You breathed her in, her scent of summer rain and freshly cleaned laundry. Her hair tickled your nose but you held her back, held her as if it were the last time you ever would.
Something softly broke within you, and you felt tears well up in your eyes. They slid silently down your cheeks. The fridge closed with a padded thump and plunged you both into the neon blue glow. Eventually, the club fell to the floor with a clank and her fingers fisted your shirt. You were thankful that she didn’t use her full strength.
“How is this happening?”
“I don’t know,” You rasped.
And you didn’t. Everything was so fuzzy and each time you attempted to press the subject in your mind, you felt the start of a headache at the base of your skull. For now, you were perfectly content holding your friend flush against you.
“You smell so bad,” She sobbed.
“Yeah, well, I was dead.”
Jenn pulled back and squeezed both of your shoulders, studying you longer than you had studied yourself, her breath shuddered “Maybe this is one of those Halloween things, like… like you have one night back on earth.”
You gave her a weak smile “It’s June, Jenn.”
She frowned at you, fingers pressing against your goosebump covered skin. “Sweetie, it’s October. You’ve been… gone, four months.”
But you hadn’t been buried since June. You were barely buried this evening. Your body ached from how stiff the casket had been, fingers numbed from the cold. You figured you were jarred, not in a different season altogether.
“I don’t… I don’t remember anything.”  
She swallowed hard, linking her hands behind your, they rested at the base of your spine. You could tell that she was afraid to release her hold on you. Her breath was warm against your collarbone.
“You were hit by a car that blew through a redlight.”
Okay- anticlimactic. You worked alongside Jennifer at Goodman, Lieber, Kurzberg and Holliway on cases that were focused on Inhumans, superheroes and supernatural beings that had gotten themselves into legal trouble. Being taken out by a car accident wasn’t on your top-five ways to go.
“It was all very… weird. They wouldn’t’ let me see you, and at first, I thought it was because we’re not family, but they didn’t let them in either. I even pulled the attorney card, which I’m not proud of, but they refused to let us even identify you.”
She withdrew her touch and started to pace around the kitchen. It was her way of thinking, and now that she was sure that you were a solid being, she was free to move around. “Even when I got six feet tall, mean and green, they wouldn’t let me in. I was two seconds from calling Bruce.”
Jenn stopped and lifted both eyebrows at you “You look remarkable for someone who has been under the earth for months.”
“I was being buried today in White Plains. I’m assuming there was no funeral, then?”
“No… no. They had said that private arrangements had been made and it’s my guess that those were keeping you on ice until now.”
You winced at the phrasing. You were never too fond of hospitals and the blocks in your memory scared you more than anything. If what Jennifer was saying was right, then, you may not have died in that intersection. You may have been through something much, much worse.
“Sorry,” She sighed out, desensitized just as you were. “Y/n, you can’t remember anything?”
“No,” The word came out as a broken whisper.
The two of you stood in a quiet moment. You could feel your heart pounding in your chest, and you held onto that feeling. It was there, you were there, pockmarked memory and all. You felt the urge to reach out and hold Jennifer again, suddenly so exhausted you didn’t’ imagine your legs holding you up much longer.
Her eyes flickered down to the center of your chest and then back up to your stare with an immeasurable amount of fear. When you gazed down at the dirt-stained shirt, you saw a red dot, quivering as if a hand was behind it’s direction. Your shoulders slumped.
“aw, fuck.”
Jennifer let out a scream as her front door was splintered open and flung with great force across the room. The two windows that overlooked the view of the city shattered as heels broke against the panes. The one singular dot had changed to seven, long-range rifles aimed at you, and you were suddenly very sad that your last meal would be cold leftover rice.
Even in the dark, you knew that they had knocked over the fishtank holding Gus, multicolored rocks and glass slid across the wooden floor. There were light gray circles against the breasts of these intruders, a bird with outstretched wings in it’s center.
Your hands went up reflexively, both you ducked behind the breakfast nook, you were close to plugging your ears, the red dots trained on the fridge now, “Oh my god, did you call SHIELD?”
“No! No, I didn’t even know you were alive three minutes ago, I was going to hit you with a golf club and call the cops, not SHIELD.”
They were assholes and tight-lipped about everything, always. It was hard to get a phone call back from them divulging information about ongoing lawsuits, but now they were in front of you, guns raised and depriving Jennifer’s fish of life.
“Gus is going to drown,” You whispered harshly back.
“He’s a fish, he can’t drown.”
“In air.”
There was obvious shifting of firearms. The Agents were all calculated and still with their movements, there wasn’t subtle noise without intent. A gruff, raspy female voice called out to you. “Come out with your hands up, y/n.”
You peaked over the breakfast bar and squinted into the darkness. Your body was not equipped for this. It was already protesting from kicking open the casket with a bought of strength. It certainly wasn’t prepared for this.
Most of the agents were in swat gear, bullet-proof vests and helmets, their faces were covered with balaclava’s, leaving only small strips of exposed skin and eyes trained on you. You hadn’t had this much attention directed at you since your fifth-grade talent show, and you figured the last time would be your funeral, but that hadn’t gone exactly to plan.
The woman who was speaking was in a tactical suit. She didn’t’ bother to cover her identity, she didn’t have to. This was the Black Widow. Natasha Romanoff. Jennifer had gotten drunk one night after a losing case and told you about her cousin having a bit of a fling with her. You’d met Bruce, and that was… unbelievable in the nicest way possible.
Her emerald eyes were trained on you, serious and hard. A tingle ripped up your spine and your stomach squirmed at her scrutiny. Maybe it was the rice and the chicken, but you felt the urge to vomit. You wanted her to say your name again, despite not understanding why she knew it in the first place.
Jennifer gripped your ankle, shaking her head ‘no’ vigorously. Really, you should trust your lawyer friend.
The Black widow let out a sigh, the tip of her handgun pointed to the ground. “You can either come out, or I’ll blow a hole through your chest. Your choice.”
Your gaze flashed down to Jenn and she seemed to have changed her mind within a second, nodding with caution. “Okay, okay.”
Once you were at full height, the room bustled in movement. Your eyes remained on the Black Widow, and hers on yours. Your mouth felt dry, the tip of her gun pushing against your ribs before she flipped you and bent you over the granite counter. Jennifer was using her heels to scoot back to the fridge, trying to avoid the agents swarming around.
Metal cuffs were slapped against your wrists. The Black Widow was pressed flush against you, her warmth dominating. She grasped the back of your shirt and pulled you up. You were, for a fleeting moment, at her mercy. Her fingers searched your pockets, padded down your sides. Once she figured you clean, she holstered her weapon. “Y/n Y/l/n,” she husked in your ear. You suppressed a shiver, knowing she’d feel any move you made right now. “You’re supposed to be dead.”
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