#Three. WHY would you say it like that? Why would you single those out as if they pushed you out of getting your representation faster? | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

lordprettyflackotara · 16 hours

Text

the knowing || matt sturniolo & chris sturniolo

SMUT 18+ MINORS DNI. this is for the twilight girls and the twilight girls only. if you aren’t rockin w dat this fic is not for you. teehee threesome with matt and chris makes me go bark bark (no pun intended). also, YES I HAVE HEARD THE CRIES OF THE PEOPLE. SLIDE PART TWO IS COMING.

You were sick of this shit.

The triplets did this to you every single year. Every single year they’d make plans with you on Halloween. And every single year they’d bail on you with no explanation. You had been family friends with the triplets since you all were wearing pampers. The older you all got, the more annoyed you became. It didn’t always used to be this way. They only started acting strange around puberty. Matt and Nick were the first to bail, Chris joining them around fourteen.

Every single year they’d never explain themselves. They’d smother you in apologies and lame excuses. Ones you’d heard millions of times before. But you adored the boys, your love for them overriding the disrespect they gave you every Halloween. But this year as a fresh twenty one year old, you were over it. All four of you were the legal drinking age, this being the first Halloween any of you could legally consume alcohol.

And again, they ditched you. You clutched your phone in your hand, your thumbs typing away angry and insulting text messages. You were rotating between the three of them, texting and calling away. You sighed as you switched to Chris’s texting thread. Your eyes narrowed as you noticed his location was on and was located in the depths of the forest behind your local park. Was he partying there? Were they partying there? Without you?

You knew it was a bad idea to go there. To potentially show your ass, acting insane in front of a bunch of strangers. But as you glanced over at your unused tinkerbell costume, you shoved all of those thoughts aside. You deserved an answer. To see firsthand what the boys were doing and why they felt like they could treat you like this. Little did you realize the knowing would change the course of your life forever.

You clutched the strap of your backpack as you trampled through the woods. You had to admit the scenery was eerie. The moon was your only source of light, the beams dimly illuminating your path. Owls hooting was the only source of sound you could hear, besides the leafs crunching beneath your boots. The farther you walked the more you began to resent your three best friends. Goosebumps were rising across your skin, the breeze mercilessly sending a chill down your spine.

You shouldn’t even have to do this. Your best friends should’ve been there for you and not ditched you. You pulled out your phone and continued to follow his location, the tracker indicating he was only two minutes away. It was off putting that there was no bonfire in sight or any indication of human life at all. Out of the corner of your eye you saw a large shadow, your head snapping in that direction. Hesitantly you turned on your phones flashlight, pointing it in that direction. Maybe you were becoming paranoid. Then again, you were in a forest full of unaccounted for wild life.

A gush of wind soared behind you, your intuition signaling someone else was here. “Hello? Chris? Nick?” You called out, your voice echoing throughout the trees. That alone was unsettling, your breath becoming shallow. You could feel your heart begin to speed up, your eyes darting in every direction to find the source. “Chris if that’s you this isn’t funny,” You say, silently praying it was Chris. You began to back up slowly, your hand slightly shaking as you clutched onto your phone for dear life. A firm set of hands gripped onto your shoulders, a scream escaping your lips. Your shriek of terror was muffled by the strangers hand, your limbs thrashing out of instinct.

You were quickly turned around, a concerned Matt standing before you. “Hey hey hey look at me, it’s me,” Matt said. He removed his hand from your mouth, your eyes narrowing. “You are such a bitch for ditching me again how could you-” You began, before noticing something that made your cheeks flush pink. Matt was almost completely naked, the only thing concealing him from you being a pair of black boxers. “Why are you naked?” You questioned. It was then you noticed how well defined his muscles had become. Despite his thin frame he was well built underneath the baggy clothes he wore.

“I’m not naked,” Matt argued. You began to giggle, poking his chest. “You are so naked. So tell me, who’s the lucky girl? I never took you for an exhibitionist,” You laughed. You had hoped your cheeks weren’t visibly red, his revealing skin making you flustered. Matt firmly grabbed your shoulders. “Y/n look at me, keep your voice down,” He whispered. Nervously Matt looked over his shoulder, as if he was looking for something. Someone. “Why are you here? You can’t be here,” Matt told you. He began guiding you towards the direction you came, his hands pulling you like you weighed nothing.

You yanked away from his grasp, offended. “Yes I can. It is not fair you all ditch me every single year then expect me to just piss off. I’m a person too and I-” You began arguing, Matt’s hand resuming its place over your mouth. You couldn’t help but feel your heart skip a beat, your stomach swarming with butterflies. Matt’s ear visibly twitched, as if he could hear your heart too. “Listen I promise I will explain everything to you but you need to go right now, it’s for your own good,” Matt urged. He kept his hand on your mouth, his gaze settling on something behind you.

You attempted to turn your head, Matt’s hand firmly keeping your hand in place. “Do you trust me?” He asked you, his eyes never straying from whatever was behind you. You nodded, fear ensuing as Matt’s gaze darkened. “Run in the direction behind me and don’t look back,” He ordered. A low rumbling was forming at the pit of his throat, an audible growl making your eyes widen. Matt released you and gently shoved you behind him.

“Go.”

Your feet didn’t allow you to stay in place, even though your fearful curiosity was nagging you. Running was never your strong suit, but you felt like an unskilled track star as you weaved in between the trees. You couldn’t help but feel terrified, the sounds of faint growls echoing throughout the forest. Your lungs were beginning to burn, your mouth open as you attempted to intake oxygen. Your legs were straining themselves, a gasp screaming your lips as you were roughly shoved to the ground.

Admittedly you panicked, quickly turning yourself around and crawling backwards. Your eyes widened as Chris stood before you, his orbs an unfamiliar shade of crimson red. It matched the blood that stained his chin and lips, his sights centered on you. He inhaled deeply, your heart pounding in your chest. “You have never smelled more delicious,” Chris praised. You felt yourself blinking slowly, your worry replaced with comfort. Your best friend was standing before you covered in blood, yet you felt perfectly at ease. He somehow seemed more cocky than normal, a bold smirk crossing his lips.

Before you could blink a large shadow shoved Chris aside, my eyes attempting to follow. An abnormally large wolf stood in front of you defensively, baring itself teeth at Chris. The brunette was quick to retaliate, baring his own set of fangs.

Hypnotizing her? Really?

Matt’s voice had entered your mind, invading it against your will. You swallowed as your eyes flickered up to the wolves ears, noticing a familiar cross earring Matt wore. “M-Matt?” You whispered. The wolves golden eyes wondered over to you, letting out a small confirming huff with his snout. Boldly you rose to your feet. “What’s wrong with Chris?” You asked. The forest had grown silent, the only audible sounds being the brothers that stood before you. One was in a defensive stance, the other ready to attack. Processing that Matt was some sort of shape shifter was off of the table. But was Chris an actual vampire?

“You know I hate trying to talk to you in wolf form,” Chris said. Matt glanced over at you, your hands nervously clutching the sleeves of your jacket.

Behave yourself Christopher.

Matt’s gaze landed on you once more.

I’d close my eyes if I was you.

His words of advice went in one ear and out of the other. You watched in amazement as he shifted back to the human Matt you knew and loved in seconds. Again he stood in his boxers, heat dashing across your cheeks. “Awe someone likes to see Matt all exposed,” Chris teased. In a flash he was behind you, his hands gripping your waist. Your back pressed against his chest, one of his arms wrapping around your shoulders. “Chris you need to chill the fuck out, she’s our friend, not food,” Matt snarled. Chris brushed some of your hair away from your neck, inhaling deeply as the tip of his nose trailed across your skin.

“If only you could smell her Matthew, you’d understand,” Chris hummed. He flattened out his tongue, dragging it from the bottom of your neck to the top. You let out a tiny whimper, your core beginning to throb with desire. “W-what’s going on here?” You managed to question, ignoring the smirk that had grown across Chris’s face. Protectively Matt tried to pull you closer to him, resulting in you being squished between the two of them. Matt cupped your face in his hands again, his soft touch contrasting to Chris’s.

“When we hit puberty we began changing. All of us, except for Chris. Me, Nate, and Nick began to be able to shift into what you just saw,” Matt explained. You nodded as you searched his eyes for the golden you saw moments before. “Like werewolves?” You questioned. You heard Chris chuckle from behind you. “We call ourselves shifters but yes, just like that,” He said affirmatively. Chris’s hands began to massage your waist, your panties dampening at his actions and the close proximity to an exposed Matt. “A-and Chris?” You stuttered, trying to keep composure.

“We originally thought Chris was a late bloomer, but he doesn’t carry the shifter gene. So to ensure his spot in the monster community he hunted down a vampire to be turned,” Matt said flatly. It was obvious Matt didn’t agree with Chris’s decision. “Shifters stop aging at twenty five, why would I want to be the only one growing old forever?” Chris huffed. Matt’s eyes shot daggers directly at his brother, his patience running thin. “Yeah the hot shot behind you is a newborn, decided tonight was the night he wanted to be turned,” Matt sighed.

You tried to ignore the two of them pressing against you closer, the boys unfazed being so closed to you. “Nice going by the way. Your location is what led her here you dumbass,” Matt spat. Defensively you shoved his hands away from your face. “Hey you guys are the ones that kept that secret away from me all of these years,” You argued. Matt sighed. “It’s complicated okay?” He said. Chris rolled his eyes as he continued to inhale your delicious scent. Your smell was nauseatingly sweet, unlike the deer he had been hunting prior. “She was going to notice at some point anyways,” Chris bickered.

Your breath hitched as Chris began placing slow kisses on your shoulder. “Cut it out,” Matt added, glaring at Chris. You swallowed nervously as Chris grinded himself against you from behind, your mouth running dry. “Take a moment and use that sense of smell of yours. What do you smell?” Chris asked. You gulped as Matt inhaled deeply, his gaze falling to your body. He felt so oblivious, your nipples visibly hardened and your arousal flooding his nostrils. “Fucking hell,” Matt grumbled. He brought his face closer to yours. “You want me?” He asked softly.

Chris began sucking at your neck, a groan escaping your lips. “Both, want you both,” You answered affirmatively. You could feel Chris smirk as he shared a look with Matt. The brunette in front of you brought his lips to yours, passionately kissing you. You whimpered as you wrapped your arms around his neck, attempting to keep up with his rough pace. “Careful Matt, you can’t be too rough with her,” Chris reminded him, his own lips attaching to your neck. He was sucking at your skin, doing everything in his power to control himself from sinking his fangs into your soft flesh.

Matt gently bit at your bottom lip, teasingly pulling on it as one of his hands slithered down to your jeans. He held eye contact with you as he unbuttoned them, shoving the zipper downwards. Chris released your neck with a pop, a hickey already forming against your skin. You bit your bottom lip, attempting to contain your unholy noises.His hands strayed from your waist, sliding under your shirt. “Cmon pretty girl, let me hear those noises you’re hiding,” Chris purred. His cold hands slid under your bra with ease, teasing and twisting at your hardened nipples.

You audibly moaned as Matt’s hand slid down to your panties at the same time, teasingly brushing over the fabric. “Fuck, she’s soaked,” Matt commented. His fingertips were ghosting over your aching cunt. Your core demanded attention, a whine escaping your lips. “Yeah? You all wet for us?” Chris snickered. You licked your swollen lips as he continued squeezing at your mounds of flesh. “Y-yes oh my- please-” You pleaded. Matt smirked as he began rubbing your panties with just the slightest bit of more pressure. He enjoyed seeing you so riled up, your cheeks flushed red and your eyes threatening to flutter closed.

“Please what? Tell me what you want me to do. I’m all yours,” Matt whispered. If Chris wasn’t there Matt would’ve sank to his knees and eaten you out until you cried from overstimulation. Yet Chris was there, so he instead awaited your instructions. “Please finger me. Need something, anything,” You whined. Matt shoved your panties to the side, shoving two fingers inside of your soaked entrance. “Holy fuck, Chris you have got to feel how wet she is,” Matt said, curling his fingers inside of you. Chris grinned mischievously as he twisted one of your nipples.

“I think I will,” He hummed. He wrapped one arm across your chest to keep you in place, his other cold hand slithering down to your aching clit. The coldness of his touch against your throbbing heat made you moan even louder. “So fucking tight,” Matt murmured, pumping his fingers inside of you. Chris’s fingertips began drawing fast circles around your clit, the boy behind you wanting to cum as fast as possible. Curses and mantras of the boys names left your lips, your body feeling like it was on fire.

“Such a dirty little thing. Letting two monsters use you like this,” Chris spat. The temptation to suck your blood was ensuing, his eyes lingering on the previously formed hickies. Matt began finger fucking you faster, his spare hand grabbing the sides of your throat. “No no you’re a good girl aren’t you? Our good little play thing?” Matt huffed. You babbled an agreement, the knot in your stomach tightening profusely. He squeezed the sides of your throat tighter, the brunette taking note of the wall your walls squeezed around his fingers as he did so. “Thats it, go on. Cum for us,” Chris huffed, licking his dry lips.

You forced your eyes to open, Matt holding you in intense eye contact. “Fucking, fuck!” You moaned, your walls spasming around Matt’s fingers as you came. Chris’s assault on your clit had temporarily subsided, your heart racing as you came down. “I need a distraction otherwise i’m not going to be able to stop myself,” Chris admitted. He could hear your blood flowing through your veins, your heart pounding as you came down from your orgasm. Matt’s ears visibly twitched, his head turning over his shoulder.

“Well you got yourself one, here comes Nick,” Matt said. He quickly helped you button up your jeans before gathering your hair and concealing your hickies. Both Matt and Chris stood awkwardly at your side, awaiting for Nicks arrival. A smaller wolf jumped out of the bushes into the clearing, eyeing the three of you suspiciously. The wolves motions were so sassy you could practically see Nick standing in front of you.

Anything you two want to tell me?

Matt brought his fingers to his mouth, nonchalantly licking your juices off of them. “Well we finally told her,” Chris said cheerfully, trying to focus on the wet dog smell instead of the sound of your blood pumping. You could’ve swore Nicks wolf form had an eyebrow, if so the eyebrow was raised.

Right, anything else?

Matt took his fingers out of his mouth, shaking his head. “Nope nothing at all,” He replied. Nick rolled his eyes, cocking his head to the left.

It’s almost morning we’ll discuss this later.

His golden eyes flickered across the three of you suspiciously.

And next time at least try to be subtle and hide your boners, holy fuck.

#matt sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo x reader #sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #chris sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #matt sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo smut #nick sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo x y/n #chris sturniolo smut #chris sturniolo x you #matt sturniolo x you

181 notes · View notes

jordyn14 · 12 hours

Text

It Has Always Been You • Joe Burrow Mini Series

Chapter 1: “Hey, hey, hey. What’s with the staring?”

I'm Maisie, Maisie Moreau. The last name is in fact French. Before my mom and I moved to Athens, Ohio, we lived in Monaco. My dad was well known in Monaco because he was an f1 driver. My dad was amazing. Any chance he got, he was bringing me to the race tracks so I could either watch him, or climb in either him so he could show me what he see's every time he got in that car. Those cars that I grew up around, that I thought could do no wrong and were so cool, killed my dad. While he was coming around a corner, he lost control of the car and skidded off the track. Next thing I know, I was watching the car slowly becoming engulfed in flames. At the time I didn't really know what was going on, but my dad was trapped in his car and the rescue team didn't put the fire out soon enough. My dad died.

After that, my mom couldn't stand to live in that house...or in Monaco for that matter. Anywhere she looked, my dad was there, literally. Not only were there so many memories of him around the house or in their favorite restaurants or coffee shops, but there were pictures of him that people put out in remembrance of him. Don't get me wrong, it was nice to see that people were honoring him and his name after such a horrible accident, but we didn't want to keep seeing his face everywhere, it hurt too much. I was 7 when we left Monaco to come to Ohio. Don't ask me why we came to Athens, Ohio, though. Out of every single state that couldn't been home, she chose Ohio. The quiet, empty, high poverty and crime state. I would soon find out that that was the best decision my mom has ever made for us.

Coming into a new school as a second grader where everybody already knew everyone from first grade was scary-no, terrifying. My friends were all back at home and I expected to never find friends. Plus, even though I was raised around English and French, I kept forgetting how to say things, which just made kids laugh. I would come home crying most days asking my mom if we could go back home. I knew she felt terrible because it was a big change, Monaco...the richest country in the world, to Athen's, Ohio. That was until I met Arthur Burrow. Arthur saw me crying under the slide one day and asked me if I wanted to play with him and his friends, he said it was because I had a cool accent. The rest is pretty much history. We became instant best friends, and when I say best friends, I mean inseparable. Everywhere he went, I went, and everywhere I went, he went. Arthur even helped me with my English, even though I still struggle with it sometimes.

Not only did we become best friends, but my mom became best friends with his parents. I mean they kind of had to, Arthur and I wanted to hang out any chance we got. We spend all of elementary school together and when we finally were about to go into middle school, my mom thought it would be a good idea to take us all down to Monaco for a little vacation, even Arthur's parents and brother. My mom kept the house which led to a private beach because she couldn't part with it and frequently visited, so when we got back home, it was like nothing changed. It felt so good to be around people who talked like me. It was like a breath of fresh air. We spent that entire week pretty much in the water, where Arthur learned that he absolutely loved boats. I of course, only 11, asked my mom if we could take the yacht back home. She obviously told me that that was impossible.

I guess it's time that I should also mention Arthur's older brother of three years, Joe Burrow. When people think of Joe Burrow, their minds probably go to the quarterback from the Cincinnati Bengals, but not me. My mind instantly goes to my best friend's dreamy and charming older brother who always had our backs. When someone would make fun of my accent and the way I would forget some words in English, Joe was always there to put them in their place, girls or not. Joe wouldn't let anyone talk bad about his brother or me. You see? Dreamy. That was a crush that started off very very small, but soon got very very big. The first day I realized that I had a crush on him was when Arthur and I who were in 6th grade, went to watch Joe play in his first ever varsity basketball game. The way he ran up and down that court and shot the ball was like sugar rush to me...at least they felt similar.

While Joe was off at LSU being an amazing quarterback and proving everyone wrong, Arthur and I were figuring out ourselves and what we were passionate about. When I was 16, my mom got a call from a modeling agency, and just like Arthur and I, the rest was history. When I reached the age of 18, my name was getting a little bigger and I was modeling for more places than just local businesses. My first big modeling job was for Nike, yes, it may seem small compared to some, but Justice and Gap were even smaller. From there, I started to travel around a little bit for these modeling photo shoots and when I was 19, I modeled for Prada, which was like a dream come true for me.

When I was 18, though, Arthur and I both went to Ohio State. I went for fashion design and out of high school started up my own clothing business, which has skyrocketed these past few years because I really got my name out there with modeling. Arthur went first engineering and now has a big boy job making a lot of money, but obviously not as much as his brother who always teases him about that.

Also at 18, my mom decided to move back to Monaco. It was the second hardest decision's she ever had to make, second to moving to America after my dad passed away. My mom needed to move back, though. Not only to keep my dad's memory alive, but because she missed it so incredibly much. She missed her friends, going to f1 races, going on boat rides whenever she wanted, living near the ocean, and more. We all could tell that she wanted to go back, she just didn't want to leave me, but I wanted to stay. I couldn't leave my best friend. It was hard without her for a while, but we FaceTimed any chance we got, and I also visited whenever modeling, school, or work wasn't in the way. Lucky, I picked up a few modeling shoots with hermés and Dior in Monaco so I could go there for the shoot and stay for a weekend with my mom.

Another amazing thing that about being best friends with Arthur was not only watching his brother go from cute to hot and see him find himself, but also make it to the NFL. It was hard to watch him at OSU and being the backup to the backup. There were so many times where the three of us would go out to lunch and all Joe could think and talk about was football, and it wasn't positive things, really. It was about how he was always the backup and how he never got the chance to prove himself. It was hard on him and we hated seeing him struggle, especially when he hurt his hand and became the backup to the backup. It literally had been amazing watching Joe live out his dream in the NFL because of that. His football career started off extremely rough and not promising, but now he's doing amazing and is proving everyone wrong.

Not only did I get to watch my friend become amazing at football, but I got to watch him while having the biggest crush on him. It was hard not to. He wasn't just extremely attractive and amazing at football, but he was an amazing person. Time and time again he showed just how amazing he was. Whether it was standing up for me and Arthur, helping me with my English when Arthur couldn't, or literally just being himself, he was amazing. He was nerdy, funny, handsome, kind, intelligent. It was literally impossible not to have a crush on him. But at the end of the day, he was my best friend's brother, which meant I always had to push those feelings aside. It wasn't like I ever thought Joe would start to have feelings for me, because that was extremely impractical, but I didn't want anything to come between Arthur and I, and me having a crush on his brother could do that.

Just like we did in Joe's first year of playing in the NFL, we packed our bags and headed to Monaco for a week vacation where Joe could calm down and destress before the first game. Arthur and I always loved visiting Monaco because the legal drinking age was 18, meaning the day we turned 18, we took a trip over here so we could drink legally. Now, at 22, we didn't have to worry about that stuff. Currently, we were all on our yacht, soaking in the last bit of ocean before we had to leave and go back to Ohio. The new season starting back up meant the stress would eventually creep into Joe and he would be insufferable after the losses, meaning that Arthur and I were really soaking up the last bit of fun and stress free Joe. My mom and the Burrow's were all at the front of the boat relaxing and catching up while the three of us were at the back of the boat.

I let out a deep exhale, the sun shining on me feeling amazing. My eyes were shut and I couldn't help but smile. This life was amazing. From in front of me, I could hear Arthur doing flips off of the boat and into the ocean under us. It was moments like these ones that I wish I could live in Monaco. Not only did I love the ocean and the sun, I also loved being around people who spoke the same language as me. Arthur and Joe tried to learn, but they only know how to out a few sentences together. On this yacht, I could tell Joe could forget about the things he was worried about back at home and put his focus into having fun. "Maisie, come in! The waters great!" Arthur yelled up at me from in the water. With a small laugh, I opened my eyes and sat up on my elbows so I could look down and into the water a little bit. Unable to see Arthur, he swam back a little bit and came into view.

As soon as we made eye contact, I waved down at him and we both started laughing. As you can see, I am suntanning. I have a modeling shoot tomorrow before we leave and I want my skin nice and golden." I said with a little "hmph.' After hearing this, Arthur started swimming over to the ladder on the side of the yacht and started to climb out of the water, water trickling off of his body. Don't you dare. When he made his way over to me, he bent down a little so he was closer to me and started to shake his head and body, water getting all over me. "Stop it, you're like a wet dog!" I screamed in French while laughing and got up from the chair. "One, why are you always tanning, and two, slow down your French because I can't understand you." Arthur said and elbowed me in the side a little bit.

Usually when I talk fast or out of nowhere, I will accidentally speak French, which happens more than I'd like to admit, but Arthur just finds it funny. "One, it's a lifestyle, and two, I called you a wet dog." I said and laughed as I watched Arthur's face drop when he heard me call him a wet dog. Scanning Arthur's face, a small smile started to appear before he nodded to himself. "Don't you dare." I said and backed away from him, putting my hands out in front of me to shield myself. All of a sudden, he lunched forwards and grabbed me in his arms, lifting me up off of the ground. I started to flail and hit his back while we both laughed like crazy. "You let me go right now!" I laughed and flailed some more, but soon just accepted it as he got closer to the edge of the boat.

I let out one last scream as Arthur jumped into the water with me in his arms. As soon as my feet hit the water, I plugged my nose to stop any water from getting in it before I was submerged. Arthur let go of me once we were both in the water. After a few seconds of staying under the water, I started to swim to the top and as soon as I surfaced, I looked over at Arthur who was already fixing his messed up hair. "Now I have to wash my hair." I laughed and dipped my head underwater to get the hair out of my face some more. "Good, it looked bad anyways." He joked with me as he started to swim towards the ladder. All of a sudden, I heard the door on the yacht open up and stopped moving so I was floating in the water. I looked up to see Joe walking out. Damn.

Joe was in nothing but his swimming trunks, and obviously a pair of socks since he always wore socks-except in the water, that is. I couldn't tear my eyes off of him and the way every single muscle was showing right now. My eyes scanned over his thick thighs, his muscular arms, his toned abs with the perfect amount of love handles on the sides. I gulped a little at the sight of his perfectly tanned body as he strutted out to us, his chest a bit red from not putting on enough sunscreen, though his mom kept nagging him about it. I would be lying if I said this wasn't one of my favorite parts about being out on the yacht. I was pulled from my thoughts when Arthur started to climb out of the water. Following his lead, I started to climb out after him and crossed my arms over my chest when I couldn't find my towel.

"Your mom is going to start taking us back since you have a modeling shoot in a few hours. Unless you guys want to get in your workout and swim back." Joe said. Both Charles and Joe started laughing at that last bit, knowing I wasn't the best at swimming long distances. Arthur, still chuckling, looked me up and down a little bit and said, "Maisie would drown. She doesn't have the stamina for that." I rolled my eyes while ringing out my hair a little bit. A bunch of water fell onto my feet and onto the boat. I looked up at Joe and saw that he was carrying two towels. "Sorry, I'm not a football player and I'm not a gym rat like you." I said while shaking my head. Joe chuckled a little bit and said, "maybe you should go to the gym with Arthur...beef up those twig like arms while you're at it." I scoffed a little and looked down at my arms. They definitely weren't twigs, they just weren't as big as theirs.

"Thanks but no thanks. My arms are just fine. Plus, I do work out for your information." I said with a little smile and a shrug. Joe just chuckled and held out his hand which held my beach towel. Arthur already grabbed his and was currently running it over his hair to dry it off. "Here you go, Zie." Joe said. My face instantly flushed a shade of red as I heard him call me Zie. Yes, Joe's nickname for me was Zie. When I was younger, I absolutely hated it. Everyone either called me Maisie, May, or Maise, not Zie. I asked Joe just to pick one of those three, but he insisted on Zie because he wanted to be the only person that called me that. That nickname has been such a constant thing that now I even like hearing it because when I hear it, I know Joe said it since he's the only person that uses it. "Thank you, Joey." I reached out to grab the towel from his hand, but noticed Joes eyes go from my eyes to my breasts.

After I grabbed it from him, Arthur started to talk to me about something that I wasn't even paying attention to. All I could focus on was the fact that Joe was looking directly down at my breasts and not talking, just staring. After a few seconds of him looking down at them, he realized what he was doing and quickly looked away and cleared his throat. I wrapped the towel around myself and quickly grabbed my clothes from the chair I was sun tanning on a little bit ago. "Just make sure you don't fall in on the way back." Joe said and turned on his heal. I couldn't take my eyes off of his back muscles and the way his hair blew in the wind as he walked away from us and towards the front of the boat. I couldn't help but wonder what it would feel like to run my fingers over those muscles and through his hair.

"Hey, hey, hey. What's with the staring?" Arthur elbowed me a little bit, noticing how I was staring at him. I tore my eyes off of Joe and looked over at Arthur who was putting his shirt on. Deep down, he knew I found Joe cute, and I mean...who wouldn't. It's impossible not to be face to face with a tall, handsome man like Joe and not find him cute. But Joe wasn't just cute...he was totally hot. What makes him even more attractive is his personality and the way he respects everyone. He's gently, caring, compassionate, romantic-and I'm rambling. See what he does to me? That stuff shouldn't matter to me because he's off limits. I couldn't do that do Arthur. Still, it's hard to get Joe out of my head.

"Oh as if." I said and punched his arm. Arthur nodded a little bit and smiled. "Yeah, well, don't get any ideas." He said and wrapped an arm around my neck, pulling me towards him and into a head lock as we headed for the door that led inside where we could get dressed. After a little bit, we finally docked the boat and we walked home, which wasn't too far away. When we got to the house, Arthur and I ran inside to see who could get the best shower in the house firsts, which was the guest bedroom that he stayed in. Why did he get the best shower? I have no idea. All I know is that it's the best in the house and I needed a good shower since I have a modeling shoot soon. We both pushed past Joe who was walking in front of us, making him stumble to the side a little bit. "You guys act like children!" He called out after us as we raced each other, though I could hear him laugh after. "It prevents wrinkles, you should try it!" I looked back at him for a split second while running. Luckily I turned around when I did because if I didn't, I would've totally ran into an end table.

Before I knew it, I was jumping over the couch to get in front of Arthur and then he followed after me up the stairs. Finally, I made it to the bathroom before him and turned around to face him, looking victorious. "Haha, I win, loser. Now shoo. I need to shower quick so I can get to my photo shoot." I said, shooing him away so I could shower. Arthur glared at me for a few seconds before accepting that he lost and walking out of the room and probably another shower. I grabbed everything I needed for my shower including my clothes and then locked the bathroom door behind me and started to strip away my clothes.

Instead of my normal everything shower that took an hour, I showered in 15 minutes since I was in a little bit of a rush. Turning the water off, I stepped out of the shower and wrapped a towel around me as I shivered a little. Reaching over to grab my clothes which were in my usual spot, my heart dropped a little bit. "Damn it." I said to myself with a sigh, realizing that I forgot them on Arthur's bed. Now I was going to have to open the door and let all of the cool air in. Great. With another sigh, I swung open the door. "Arthur, I think Maisie left you without saying goodbye." Joe chuckles with his back facing me, expecting me to be Arthur. "Oh my gosh!" I said quickly, not expecting Joe to be in Arthur's room while I was showering. Joe looked behind him after hearing someone scream and looked just as shocked as me when he saw that I was in fact not Arthur and I was wrapped in a towel.

Just as soon as he faced me, he was turning around quickly and said, "I am so sorry, I thought you were Arthur." I gripped onto the towel around me so it didn't fall and backed up into the bathroom. I started to shut the door but made sure there was a big enough crack so I could reach my hand out. Just as Joe was about to walk out of the room and give me privacy, I said, "wait," quickly. Joe stopped in his tracks and turned his head to the side so his ear was facing me, but his eyes weren't. Part of me wanted him to look at me and never take his eyes off of me. "Can you hand me my clothes real quick? They're on the bed." I said nervously, feeling stupid for forgetting my clothes and making Joe look at me with nothing but a towel on.

Joe glanced towards the bed and when he saw my clothes, nodded and walked over to them. "Of course." He said and grabbed them, making sure not to unfold them. When he started walking my way, I quickly leaned back from the door so he didn't catch me staring at him and so he didn't see me. I heard his footsteps getting closer to the door and then he said, "alright, reach your hand out." I reached my hand out of the small crack in the door and felt him place the clothes in my hand. "Thank you so much, Joey." I said. "It's no problem, Zie." With that, I heard his footsteps again but this time they disappeared out of the room. I shut the door quickly and leaned my back on it after hearing Arthur's bedroom door shut. "Shit." I said to myself, slapping my forehead.

Once I got dressed, I walked downstairs to see everyone sitting down at the huge table eating a post yacht snack. I always call it a post yacht snack since every time we get off of the boat, we all snack so much. "Alright, shower is free Arthur. I'm going to head out soon. I'll see you all tomorrow." I said with a smile and towards the table. Once I got to the table, I hugged Jimmy and Robin from behind and told them bye and then made my way over to my mom. "Drive safe, sweetheart. I love you." My mom said once I wrapped my arms around her from behind. "I love you more momma." I said and kissed her cheek when she tilted her head near me and patted my arm. Once I pulled away from her, I walked over to Arthur who stood up from his chair.

I wrapped my arms around Arthur and hugged him tightly before we pulled away. When I walked away, Arthur flicked me in the shoulder. "You're a bitch. No wonder why you're still single." I said in French as I continued to walk. My mom started cracking up laughing while everyone else looked at me and then my mom, wondering what I said. "What did you say? What did she say?" Arthur asked me and then my mom from the table, Joe laughed and then said, "she probably called you a jackass, jackass, which is why nobody likes you." I looked over while laughing a nodded a little bit. "Honestly that was pretty close." I told Joe while laughing. I grabbed my Keys from the key bowl on the counter and headed for the door. Before I reached the door, though, I turned around and said, "I'll see you tomorrow. Bye guys!" I said and opened up the door, hearing everyone say bye as I walked out.

A/n: I know this one is short and pretty boring, but the next one is going to be way better, I promise! I hope you enjoyed the first chapter! 🫶🏼🫶🏼

42 notes · View notes

leahnardo-da-veggie · 2 days

Text

Hygiene, Health and Hieroglyphs

Welcome, ladies, gents, and genderless horrors, to the 6 month anniversary of my blog! It is time to bore you all, so roll your sleeves up and get ready for the worst world building you've ever heard! (Yes, I had to expand the topic of discussion to these three because I found them to be extremely interlinked. And yes, when I say hieroglyphs, I mean runes. Yes, I just wanted my title to rhyme.)

Now, I will be referring to all diseases/meds in Triworld by relating them to the closest real-world equivalent. This is because you don't have the time to hear me explain the names of each disease and their history, and I don't have the brainpower to come up with names for everything.

With that, we start off on diseases! Because a world with magic is a whole world of additional agony to experience. Water from wells, rivers, or any form of unprocessed water body may be cursed, even if it doesn't seem to be off. Certain kinds of bacteria have evolved to target blossoming young mages, resulting in various unfortunate side effects (After all, we just love watching magic go wild). Don't even get me started on mana-suckers.

So: How do they deal with this? Firstly: Magic. Affinities for healing and warding are rare, but (in pre-modern times) almost every person with a scrap of magic in their veins will have a spell on hand to clear water of any virus or toxin. In every village, there would always be a person to bless any water on hand, especially if they resided near a cursed region.

What exactly are cursed regions, however? Below, you see the map with various areas highlighted.

These are areas where the water itself (be it from wells, rivers, or lakes) holds magical properties. In some regions, like the glade the Ko clan resides in, the water can restore and heal. However, other areas, such as Ceredell, you will find water can bring about hallucinations and psychosis.

That is why most, if not all, travellers in those times pulled water from the moisture in the air. It was, at the time, one of the greatest drains on travellers, because it meant only those who had the magical capacity to perform that spell regularly could afford to wander, or be forced to risk cursed water. That was also why the great desert, Losaras, was an unexplored haven for species that did not need to drink water, like ghouls and vampires.

However, that all changed with the invention of runes and enchantment magic by the elves. It meant that any person, even a non-mage, could stock up on water-clearing enchantments and go travel. It meant that a village could stake out a single well and enrune it, to clean it permanently. It saved millions of lives that would have otherwise been lost to cholera, mana-sucking viruses or curses.

Not long after, these runes further revolutionised society by enabling teleportation of resources. A city could build a teleportation rune obelisk beneath a lake, and receive an endless flow of water coming out of the obelisk's twin. It meant that even in the heart of the desert, a determined crew could populate a town. And much to the inhumans' disgust, they did.

Now, runic magic at that time (aka around 2600), was almost entirely controlled by elves. They had invented the technomancy, and they were the distributors of it. What little human-made runes existed belonged to Ceredell, who had, out of pure necessity, come up with their own simple versions of the cleansing rune. The result was that the populations of Losaras and Ceredell burgeoned. (Of course, as those who have read Lich-Queen will know, this will turn out to be a mistake.)

Understanding of runic magic only truly came to the humans after the Runic wars began in 2800, when the elves were forced to share their enchanted weaponry or be complicit in the genocide of humanity. The origins of almost all modern runes was from war enchantments, but it has been quite a while since they performed such functions.

Now, understand that healing magic is an excruciating and difficult medium. Even in a world proliferated with magic, healers are often only available to the richest of the rich or the lucky few who happen to know a healing mage personally. Anyone without an affinity for it has no hope of learning the simplest of healing spells, and often can only brew up the mildest of ointments. The popularisation of healing runes meant that hedge witches, who previously had no ability to truly cure anything more serious than a wart, could stand a chance at saving a life.

I hear you ask: Why not use technology? Our world has medicine, why doesn't theirs? The thing you must understand about ancient Triworld is that it was almost completely ruled by the gods, many of whom used their incredible amounts of magic to control their subjects. Technology was a threat to them, and so they made an effort to extinguish it. The only species who could and would research magicless technology were the elves, whose goddess, Renise, could not care less for what her people did.

So it was that penicillin was only ever created in the year 5000, long after Ina had murdered the last goddess. So it was that the people of Triworld struggled by, with the not-help of great prayers to their gods, endless half-baked potions, and all the preventative care they could think of. And so it was that the Runic Wars were the first step to the freedom of Triworld from its godly shackles.

Surgeons took the red-hot fireswords and turned them to self-sterilising blades and cauterisers. Doctors fashioned basic microscopes and endoscopes out of reconnaissance enchantments. Nightsoil carriers turned their mass battle-porters into refuse-porters. The gods received less desperate prayers as people turned their futile efforts towards obtaining healing glyphs.

With that, we drag Triworld kicking and screaming into the era of the Godhuntress. Runes are increasingly commonplace, most people have access to potable water, and healing magic is no longer limited to the realm of high nobility. The gods fall, one by one. People, disillusioned, begin to carve out their own futures, abandoning the rites and faiths of their forefathers.

When Ina massacres the elves for not aiding her people, forcing the few living elves to go into hiding, she inadvertently opens up another niche for humanity to carve out: Technology. In the ruins of Sylvandor, humans discover the concept of vaccines, of antibiotics, of magic that needs no magic. Why the elves, whom all possessed some form of mana-using capacity, were working on such things, they did not know. They did not care either, taking it as a windfall.

Further advances in teleportation runes meant plumbing and heating. Further advances in enchantment meant spellbooks could be made, with each page containing a simple spell to be used at a later date. Further advances in magical theory enabled lesser mages to pick up warding spells and scraps of healing. Magic became commercialised, available in workshops, books, and even encased within houses.

Of course, in some remote areas of the world, people are still relying on the same old cleansing spell they used 4000 years ago. But that's a tiny minority in the great world of sigils, sanitation and sanation.

I could go on further, but I do believe you get the gist of the story. If you want to know anything, anything at all about Triworld, just ask. I have spent embarrassing amounts of time (think every night and at least 3h of my day everyday for 15 years) on this world, and I know it just as well as I know Earth's history.

Thank you all for reading, and happy worldbuilding!

Taglist:

@coffeeangelinabox, @dorky-pals, @calliecwrites, @kaylinalexanderbooks, @shukei-jiwa

@thewingedbaron, @pluppsauthor, @cowboybrunch, @wylloblr, @possiblyeldritch @ramwritblr, @urnumber1star, @fortunatetragedy, @bigwipscholar, @ratedn

@vampirelover890, @possiblylisle, @illarian-rambling, @the-ellia-west

@finicky-felix, @evilgabe29, @glitched-dawn, @rivenantiqnerd, @dragonhoardesfandoms

@drchenquill, @everythingismadeofchaos, @owldwagitoutofyou (Anyone else who wants to get added can tell me in the comments, pm me, or send me an ask about it!)

#writeblr #writing #my writing #creative writing #writerscommunity #fantasy #writing community #spilled ink #worldbuilding #fantasy world #fantasy fiction #fantasy worldbuilding

23 notes · View notes

chartreuxcatz · 8 months

Text

You ever see something that makes you go “I’m sure you mean well and your feelings are valid, but you really need a bit of perspective here.”

#Meow.#Or just patience really #‘It kinda bums me out that you made plushies focused on aspec and woman-aligned people and none specifically for gay men in particular.’#like oh my god.#One. Those designs are going to be part of series 2. Two. Youre talking to an independent artist with a lot of sapphic fans.#Three. WHY would you say it like that? Why would you single those out as if they pushed you out of getting your representation faster?#God knows those gosh darn aroaces get too much attention. Especially compared to those poor invisible gay men. /sarcasm #You can be disappointed that you have to wait for your specific identity. You can be disappointed the plush you wanted didnt win the poll.#But an artist can only do so much at one time!#This isnt a company with infinite resources who just chose to ignore men #Its an independent plushie designer who has every intention to make what you want eventually.

3 notes · View notes

fmhobeus · 2 months

Text

so, nerdy loser college boy choso *sighs* *opens legs*

a/n: just so you know, this man is gonna make you do all the hard work for a piece of that loser boy dick 😮‍💨 so... um so at some point around 2000 words in i realised this is way more than a hc post :3 eat it up if you will!

nerdy!choso who borderline has no friends except his gaming buddies who doesnt meet irl like ever. he doesnt like going to classes, especially this one. he doesnt need it but it's a requirement for all first years. and boy is glad it is when he sees you come in.

nerdy!choso who only listens to discussions when you're talking. suddenly he needs to put down his headphones and nod at every word you're saying. his eyes follow every gesture of your hand, every sway of your ass, every single time you fix your hair.

nerdy!choso who is starting to get a bit enamored with you, your style, your way of speaking. he loses track of time gawking at you in class from the last benches as you prettily do all the work in the class. he hates how beautifully your hair falls on your face, how nicely your clothes fit you despite being pretty modest for college. he hates how he can see the silhouette of your tits when you turn to the side. but he's too much of a gentleman to keep looking.

nerdy!choso who ends a game early when he remembers you, lying and saying that he had promised someone to meet them somewhere. the place is his bathroom and the person was you. god, you really shouldn't wear those tight jeans to class y'know? how will he continue to be a gentleman if you do?

nerdy!choso who despises groupwork but prays to dear god this class has some reason to pair you two together. he's getting so desperate to talk to you knowing damn well he too pussy to do it on his own. and the lord answers his prayers, the teacher assigns groups of three for a presentation. it's you, him and some slacking trust fund baby.

nerdy!choso who is about to combust and have a full blown panic attack when he sees you approach him after class with that smile on your face that would make the angels swoon. you're going on about distributing the work equally and what not while he is trying his fucking hardest to not accidently make eye contact with you and piss his pants : (

nerdy!choso who now has your name, your number and your email and he feels like the happiest man on earth. his hands are literally shaking as he responds to your request to call. he's overthinking every word he types.

choso: yeah i can do wednesday. choso: i'll be okay with whatever day you want.

nerdy!choso who hops on video call and short circuits with a view of you in an oversized band tee and a brief view of your room. why did you have to be this pretty? why did you have to video call him when you couldve done the work on text? why did you have to put your hair up like that? why oh why did you have you say "choso? hey, you there?" so seductively to bring him back to the present?

nerdy!choso who gets like no work done in a 30 minute call which felt like three hours. he knew he would hardly be paying attention so decided to record the call with your consent, saying he'd need the notes you were typing out on screen only to play it back and stroke his dick to you for what might've have been the twentieth time this week. his strokes only getting faster as you say his name in that voice he imagines sounds way better moaning and screaming it instead.

nerdy!choso who, after the presentation, is on greeting terms with you when he sees you studying in the library. he sits as far away from you as he can while still being able to see you. occupying the coziest corner of the library to stare at you study right when you come up to him.

"can i join you, choso? i'm all alone and your space seems comfy" you say with a smile, "of course, i dont mean to disturb you, is saw you were on your own too, so..."

uh oh, uh oh, uh oh. god no. please no. please dont say yes. please dont be staring at her like some dumb idiot (too late) please.

"uh... yeah sure why not?" he awkwardly says as he makes room for you to keep your things. he was such an idiot for thinking he could say no to your pretty face in the first place.

nerdy!choso who is absolutely drunk on your scent. it feels way better than any alcohol he's ever had. he feels like an animal in heat when he smells your sugary perfume mixed with the styrofoam-y air conditioned smell of the library. you're gonna kill him, yknow? how is he supposed to respond to this? what is one to do when their stupid college crush sits next to them? he gives you a half smile before furiously typing away on reddit, the only place with answers for losers like him.

nerdy!choso whose hands. oh his hands. (can be i a big whore for a second?) his long hands that feel like they're the size of your face. his kempt, beautiful and trimmed nails. his lengthy fingers that seem to yearn for something more to foddle with than just the keyboard or controller. he typed as such an insane pace it made your pussy ache. he was going so fast, jesus. those hands were meant to do more than just ask "how to talk to girls" on reddit.

nerdy!choso who (on the advice of reddit) asks if you would want him to order something for you. you tell you had a frappuccino not too long ago and that it was quite sweet and filling. and he hates himself for thinking that he could give you something much sweeter and filling than that like a horny fourteen year old.

nerdy!choso who is now determined to not come off as a creep so he does his work with the focus of four adderalls. he is typing as fast as his heartbeat, not realising he got two classes worth of work done in just an hour. he looks over at you, blissfully unaware of the absolute war in his mind.

nerdy!choso who feels as though if he doesn't muster up the courage to ask you out right then and there, he'll probably be the biggest loser on the planet. (as if he wasn't already)

nerdy! pathetic! choso who stutters a million times and barely gets the job done then too. his eyes are scanning your entire being (trying his best to not gawk at your tits) for any sign of discomfort.

"so- uhh so ummm... wo-would you, like, uh... like to do this again? sometime?... i got a.. a lot of work done today, so.."

oh heavens, the sheer nervousness in his tone makes you want to pull his pants down and show him how to really get work done.

you agree with a smile, even suggesting a better, more ambient (more romantic) cafe to study in. choso's heart is about to burst and flood the fucking library with his blood the way it is beating at an alarming rate.

"umm yeah uh 5 sounds... awesome... i hope it isn't a-a bother to you?" "no way, choso. i loved today," you offer him a smile as you gather your things, "i really like your hair, by the way" "i like your hair too, y-y-you smell very nice", he gulps.

fuck. why did he say that? what? you smell nice? who says that? is he like ten? you can't help but giggle at the sheer embarassment on his face.

he feels as though he's gonna melt into a puddle and turn to stone and throw up all at the same time.

nerdy!choso who is the most stupidly hot guy you've ever met, you think as you go giggling back to your dorm. mental note: pick a skimpy outfit for 5pm ;)

9K notes · View notes

kingkaizen · 1 month

Text

𝓻𝓸𝓾𝓰𝓱𝓮𝓻

∘ desc: although things are going great with your boyfriend nanami, sometimes you think he's too nice in bed. who better to ask for some pointers than from nanami's opposite, gojo satoru <3

∘ ft: nanami & gojo

∘ word count: 2.7k

∘ includes: voyeurism, threesome, pussy slaps, spanking, face fucking, edging, dacryphilia, dirty talk

Nanami is the best boyfriend that you’ve ever had.

No matter everything that you’ve been through together in the last three years, nothing has ever made you doubt the amount of love you had for each other. You absolutely adored everything about him. After being friends for years before getting together, it wasn’t hard to fall so deeply in love with the man that he’s become. Being able to come home to him is everything that you’ve ever wanted and more.

But, of course, all relationships come with their issues.

When Nanami received a message from you saying that you had to talk, his heart immediately dropped. What could he have done wrong? Was today a special day that he forgot about? Did he accidentally leave the toilet seat up? What could possibly be it? He rushed home from work, unlocking the front door to see you sitting on the couch.

“Is everything okay?” Nanami questioned, slipping his shoes off and placing them neatly on the floor along with pinning his coat on the rack. “Your text worried me.”

“No, Kento. Everything is fine, I promise, come sit with me.” You gestured to the cushion next to yours, trying to keep him calm. You knew that texting him like that would elicit this concerned reaction, but what you’re about to say could not be said through a simple text message.

“Kento, when I say this to you, I need you to know that I love you so much and you are an amazing boyfriend okay?” Nanami nods his head slightly, eyebrows slowly coming together in complete anticipation of what’s about to come out of your mouth.

“I want you to start being rougher with me in bed.”

Finally coming out and saying it, you felt like a weight being lifted off of your chest. Nanami always treats you like glass, in and out of the bedroom. Although you love how gentle and loving he is with you, you need something more. You can’t help but think back to all of the times that he would come back home from work, irritated about something that happened. How good it would feel for him to take out those emotions on you. But, knowing your sweet boyfriend, that thought would never cross his mind.

“Am I not satisfying you enough? I thought you enjoyed our intimate moments together…” Nanami responds, his brain thinking back to every single night you’ve spent together in the past. Why hasn’t he seen this before? Knowing that he hasn’t been satisfying you in the way that he thought hurt him much more than he was willing to admit right away.

“No, that’s not it at all. You know that you always make me feel good. I just want to change things up a bit, that’s all.” You placed an encouraging hand on his thigh, prompting him to look up at you. “I know you, Kento, don’t think too much into it. I love every moment that we have together, I just want us to try something different, that’s all.”

Nanami took in all of your words, making a pact to himself that he will change things for the better. He understands what you want, he’s just not sure how to fully give that to you. How he is in bed is exactly the way he is outside of that: sweet, loving, and overall just concerned. He would never forgive himself for hurting you in any capacity, so living up to your request will be a challenge for him. Who better to ask than his complete opposite in every single way?

“She wants you, Nanami Kento, to be rough?” Gojo almost can’t help but laugh at the thought. It’s not laughable because Nanami doesn’t have a rough side to him, Gojo of all people would know how it feels to be on the opposite end of that. The funny part is that he can’t imagine him being rough towards you. Even from an outsider looking into your relationship, anyone could see how he treats you.

“I didn’t tell you this so that you could laugh at me, Satoru, I’m asking for your help.” This request from Nanami also humored Gojo. Finally, after all of these years, Nanami is actually voluntarily asking for his help.

“How exactly do you expect me to help you? Do you need me to demonstrate?” Gojo laughed as he said this, waiting for Nanami to show some sort of disagreement in his face.

That look never came.

“That is actually exactly what I want you to do. I know the type of history that you two have, I’m not an idiot. All of these years since we’ve all been friends before we started dating, I would see the way you would look at each other. I know that there is chemistry there and I wouldn’t be surprised if you have been intimate before.” Nanami looked at Gojo, seriousness etched across his face. “I want you to show me how to treat her the way that she wants to be, I only want her to be happy.” As much as Nanami hates to admit when Gojo is better than him in any sort of way, he knows the truth when it comes to this. He sees how other women have fawned over him, and it must be for good reason.

“I’ll teach you how to fuck her like a slut.”

The sight of two shirtless men is enough to excite anyone. After telling Nanami what was on your mind, this is the last thing that you expected him to do. Of course he brought this up to you before this moment, always wanting to ensure your comfort. It was hard to disagree, you’ve been with Gojo years prior but it was never anything serious. Always flings, Gojo was never the “relationship type”.

“So gorgeous, my love.” Nanami always admired how ethereal you looked, both in and out the bedroom. He caressed your face, planting soft yet firm kisses on your lips, growing more and more passionate by the second. Gojo was sitting on the chair in the corner of the room, watching with an intense gaze. You would think that having another man watching the two of you would freak you out, but it weirdly turned you on. Gently, as always, Nanami laid you down on the mattress, fingers finding their way to your covered breasts, exposing them to his hungry mouth. After moving the fabric, his lips puckered around your nipple, tongue pushing on the hardened nub as you ran your fingers through his hair.

“Kento, I need you so bad.” You whimpered, the impatient side of you coming out already. You know Nanami, you know that it doesn’t take much begging to get what you want. You know how bad he wants you too, he can’t help but fully oblige to every word you say.

“I know honey, I’m going to give it to you.” Nanami had no self control when it came to you. Gojo rolls his eyes in the corner, finally making his presence known.

“Nanami, you can’t let her talk to you like that.” Gojo slowly began to touch his growing bulge through his pants. “It’s like you already forgot everything I told you.” He stood up and walked towards the two of you, Nanami moving to the side. Gojo gently gripped your chin, turning your head to look him dead in his eyes.

“If you want something from him, you’re going to have to earn it.”

You nodded your head, his authoritative tone sending a wave of pleasure throughout your body. Following his discrete directions, you kneeled in front of your boyfriend, fingers playfully toying with the zipper in his pants as you pulled it down along with the rest of it. You kissed his hard length through the last piece of fabric still left on his body, looking up at him through your lashes.

“D-Don’t tease me like that, (y/n)”. Nanami loved this obedient side of you, even if he wasn’t the reason you were acting this way. Before he could even process, Gojo lightly tapped the side of your ass, sending a slight sting throughout your body.

“Tease him like that again and you’re gonna have to make yourself cum. Now say sorry.” Gojo threatened, backing away once again to see how this unfolds. By now, he has fully released himself from the confines of his pants, fingers wrapping around his girth as he slowly began to pleasure himself at the sight.

“I’m sorry.” You looked up at Nanami once more, pulling away the last piece of clothing separating your awaiting mouth from his leaking tip.

“I’m sorry what?” Gojo sneered.

“I’m sorry sir.” Your pleading voice made Nanami groan, watching as you finally began to wrap your lips around the tip of his cock. You began to put your tongue to work, swirling it around his head while keeping your lips firmly around the top, sucking in. Nanami could tell that you were still in a teasing mood, refusing to go any lower than that. Suddenly, you could feel his hand find its way to the back of your head, forcing you to let more of him in. Nanami would never do something like this normally, his forcefulness with you turning you on tremendously. Gojo laughed, approving of Nanami’s sudden confidence boost. It’s arousing to him too, watching you take all of him so deep in your mouth, gagging on his length as he throws his head back.

“That’s it, take it all.” Nanami grunts, “I love how messy you look, choking on me like that.” He could feel you moan around his length at his words, thighs rubbing together in anticipation of what’s to come. “I know how wet you are already, if you want some help you have to ask for it okay?”

No matter what, Nanami is still always keeping your needs in mind, noticing how soaked you're starting to become. He removes himself from inside your mouth, allowing you to fully breathe. You look so beautiful, tears threatening to spill from your lash line and saliva coating around your mouth. He helps you back up to your feet, leading your body to lay backwards onto the bed, callused fingers catching any tears that manage to slip. “Tell me what you want.”

Your gaze moved from his eyes over to Gojo. “I want you both. Please sir, just touch me.” You felt pathetic as you begged, your core pulsing with need. You’ve never felt this sensitive before, everything feeling that much more intense given how hungry the two men in your presence are.

“Aww, what a little slut you are.” Gojo grinned, making his way closer to you. “What do you think Nanami, has she been a good girl for us? Should we give her what she wants?” Gojo’s fingers began to rub on the outside of your panties. “Look at how wet she is for us.” Gojo showed Nanami your slick on his fingers, watching it glisten underneath the lowlight.

“I think she has been a good girl.” Nanami smiles at you, so proud of how well you’ve been doing for them. “Go ahead, Gojo, you can touch her.”

“Finally.” Gojo quickly moved your panties to the side, the coolness of his touch catching you off guard as he teased the inside of your folds. “You don’t understand how torturous it was watching you without being able to touch you yet.” He makes quick work of finding your clit, slowly rubbing his thumb on your pearl as he watches you begin to writhe underneath. “Don’t forget why you’re here slut. You wanted to be treated like this so bad and now you got it. Beg for it.”

“P-Please Satoru, please touch me. I can’t take it anymore, I need it so bad.” You pleaded, beginning to feel helpless underneath him. Gojo smirked, plunging his slender fingers inside of you unexpectedly. You felt your body arch up in surprise, a gasp leaving your mouth as pleasure began to consume your body.

“So fucking greedy.” Gojo began slowly at first, catching a rhythm. “Look at how she’s drenching my fingers.” Nanami rubs himself at the sight, growing impatient. You’re too far gone to notice, feeling your own orgasm already beginning to slowly creep up in intensity. Before you know it, you're cumming all around his fingers, eyes rolling to the back of your head. Gojo quickly pulls his fingers out, not doing anything to help you ride it out. “Who told you that you could cum?” He taps his hand against your pussy repeatedly, watching you moan in a mix of pleasure and pain and you slowly come down from your high. “What a fucking whore.”

“I’m sorry sir, I couldn’t -fuck- I couldn’t help it.” You sob, looking at Nanami. You’ve never seen him look so angry. He didn’t say anything to you, only twirling his finger around, motioning for you to flip over. You quickly follow his que, not wanting to do anything to tick him off further. You can’t fully process that this is happening, your Nanami actually treating you this way.

You fucking loved it.

You felt his familiar touch rub over your ass as you got on all fours, arching your back slightly. He groaned at the sight of your wetness, glistening core almost calling out to him. He rubbed his tip against your folds, feeling your hole try to suck him in. Meanwhile, Gojo is sucking your juice off of his fingers, loving the taste of you.

“Get on with it Nanami, if she wants to be punished so badly then so be it.” Gojo made his way in front of you, rubbing the tip of his cock against your plush lips. “We told you what would happen if you didn’t listen, right? You have to be a bit smarter than that sweetheart.” The syrupy tone of his voice didn’t match his actions as he parted your lips with his head, feeling you wrap your lips against his girth. With that, Nanami finally pushed himself all the way in, moaning in unison along with you. Gojo could feel the vibrations of your moans against him.

Nanami gave you no time to adjust, pounding his entire length into you with such force that caused your mouth to hang open in shock. You felt so good, brain completely fogged over with no thoughts other than the complete monster that Nanami has become. He’s never fucked you like this, usually preferring soft thrusts over the hard pounding that he’s subjecting yourself to now. You suddenly felt a sharp slap on your ass, his large hand rubbing the sting away almost just as quickly as he placed it.

“Don’t ignore Gojo now, honey. I thought a slut like you would love to have two thick cocks filling you up this way?” Nanami questioned, picking up the pace which made it so much harder for you to focus. Gojo wasn’t having that. He placed one hand on each side of your face, holding it in place for him to thrust his hips against you. His cock filled your mouth, spit sloshing everywhere as your face got messier and messier.

“Fuck (y/n), you’re doing so fucking good for us princess.” Gojo moaned, the sounds coming from the room overwhelmed his senses. The bed creaking, you struggling to take Nanami while also pleasuring Gojo, and the sound of Nanami’s balls slapping against your ass sounded like music to his ears. Nanami couldn’t believe how hot this all was, feeling as your walls began to quiver around him.

“You’re gonna cum again baby?” Nanami asked, gripping your hips tighter as he felt himself get even closer. Gojo was already almost there, hips beginning to stutter as he watched you cry out. All you could do is whimper in response, the knot in your stomach growing tighter and tighter. Nanami made it there first, his thrusts becoming more erratic as he spilled himself inside of you. Ropes of cum flooded in as he fully pressed himself against you, beads of sweat threatening to drip off his nose. Gojo soon followed, shooting his load into your mouth as you took it all.

“Such a good girl.” Gojo mused, wiping the side of your mouth when he finished. He proceeded to kiss you, tasting himself on your tongue. Nanami pulled himself out slowly, watching in delight as his seed slowly dripped out of you. You whimpered at the now empty feeling, your orgasm slowly starting to retreat.

“You’re not going to finish me off?” You angrily turned to Nanami, watching the smirk begin to creep up his face.

“Not unless you beg for it.”

#jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk x reader #jjk smut #jjk x reader smut #nanami x reader #nanami smut #nanami x reader smut #nanami kento #gojo x reader smut #gojo x reader #gojo smut #gojo satoru

3K notes · View notes

mellowwillowy · 4 months

Text

𝐓𝐖𝐒𝐓 𝐒𝐞𝐥𝐟-𝐀𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐂𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐢𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬

Feat: Riddle, Leona, Azul, Kalim, Vil, Idia, Lilia Bonus: Floyd, Jade, Jamil, Rook, Epel, Malleus

Riddle Rosehearts

Riddle’s face was almost as red as his hair, not out of anger but rather…

[Oh my gooodddd, stomp those tiny feet again, Riddle! Give me that pout~]

Really… should he do it again? Out of nowhere? Well, let’s take a walk to where you clicked then…

[Yaahhh!! So cuteeee!!!]

Well at least you didn’t think him badly for being angry out of nowhere… whoops, he wasn’t supposed to idle like that.

Ahh, why are you moving on to another character? Cater? That good for nothing? The naughty ADeuce duo? He's almost turning from red to green in envy!

Leona Kingscholar

Leona was supposed to be ticked to the brim but definitely not with you. His ears are red from your nonstop rambling while you keep on poking his avatar right on his ear.

[I wonder how it feels like to play with his ears, ah, maybe I should help you clean it too?]

Don’t. Twitch. Ears. Else the player might notice this and question this one new idle.

[Thinking back, I kinda wanna try stepping on his tail like Yuu too~]

Don’t. Swish. Tail. What? Is he a masochist or what? Well, if it’s for you then he wouldn’t mind it.

Wait wait, why are you checking out Ruggie and Jack now? Hey, what do you mean Ruggie has cuter ears and Jack has a fluffier tail? Why do they look so proud? Are they asking to be minced?

Azul Ashengrotto

Azul might break out of the avatar restraint now. You’ve been talking about how you want to squeeze the kid him, round and plump, you quoted.

Why did you find his past appearance adorable?

[Honestly, I kinda want to lift him and his hiding spot and boil him as a takoyaki filling]

Now that made Floyd and Jade snickered. Azul was internally panicking but his avatar did not show him breaking a single sweat.

[Or maybe gather all his ink whenever he cries]

For your pen?

[But I do think squeezing his plump octomer form is the best~ Oh well, he had lost all those baby fats]

And back to how you ramble about his round self again. This was supposed to be disheartening but why was he blushing?

Wait wait, don't look away from him, no! Why are you going to Floyd? And Jade too? He knew Floyd won your heart but allow him to worm into your heart at the very least. Please let one of his three hearts rest in you!

Kalim Al-Asim

Kalim was nodding non-stop at your ramblings, or should he say, wishes. He was really happy that you were taking him as your magic lamp!

[And then, I want you to lace my body with lots of glitters, made of gold!]

No hard task, he just had to grind all that gold into some sort of fairy dust for you!

[Oh! And I want to try swimming in a pool of golden coins like Uncle Scrooge! I wonder if it'll hurt and uncomfortable as I think...]

He was in the same boat with you. You'd have to be careful when diving into the pool! But you can try sleeping on it though you should be careful, just in case the coins swallow you whole!

[And a carpet ride every night~]

Roger that! Tell him more of your wish, will you?

Eh? Why do you stop wishing? No! He will guarantee you that he will make it all come true! Please do not doubt him! Ah... it's because you two are in a different dimension? Screw this barrier that separates you two then.

Vil Schoenheit

Yes, he knew he was unworthy of your praises but he couldn't help but enjoy bathing in it!

[Look at your hair... and that make-up! Wow... truly is the fairest one of all!]

Oh please, no matter how much you compliment him, he could never compete with you beauty-wise! You would always be the true fairest one of all!

[Aha! Look at those heels too, contribute a lot to your height, and make you look so pretty!]

Even a prominent actor like him can't cover his natural reaction which was the growing blush on his face!

Eh? Rook? What does he have to do with him? Too in love with his words more than the beauty in front of you right now? No no no, you must look at him only and no one else!

Idia Shroud

If anything, he was glad his hair did not turn pink! From the way you kept on poking his avatar and patting his head, it made his heart tickled. He was no longer stuttering because the system wanted him to, but because he himself was nervous!

[Oh, show me that one illustration... Kyaaa! Why must you be so cute biting on your sleeve??? It's so inviting!!!]

Ah? That one? He couldn't help but feel embarrassed as you zoomed into his face and examined his hair. Truly, this was too much for his heart!

[Oh oh, and your masquerade costume is so pretty! It makes you look so pretty ffs!]

Ah, it was pretty uncomfortable to wear but he's glad he didn't take it off, not like he can do that anyway. The system won't allow that after all.

Everything feels nice so why are you changing character now? Wait wait! Have you checked his other card? No no no, why is that little shortie fae here? Don't close on him, please! He might want to try hacking your phone soon!

Lilia Vanrouge

Oya? You'd like to dress him up? Kukuku, looks like green and pink would work well on him~

[And... I think we can try curling his long hair, can we change the hue from red to pink like a color wheel?]

...Curling his hair didn't sound bad. Maybe he should try it sometimes and see if it suited him.

[Oh! And I'm gonna hang him upside down like the bat he is! My cute little bat, let's fist-fight!]

You really are an enigma huh? One moment is a sweet and docile lamb then the next moment you are a bull. Hm? Malleus? Why talk about him so sudden? Didn't you say he is your number-one favorite from Diasomnia? So why are you looking at someone else now?

𝐁𝐎𝐍𝐔𝐒:

Floyd Leech

God of Shrimpy~ Keep on poking him, he loves it! Ah, you love his teeth? And his droopy eyes? And his laugh? Hehe, you really love everything about him huh?

So why do you even bother looking at the others? He's going to hug you tight for this silly!

Jade Leech

Ah, he is quite the gentleman, no? Hm? You'd like to keep him as your butler? Why that is quite the generous idea that you allow him to manage your daily life~

With a small dose of love potion in your daily tea every day, he's bound to have you in his arms soon, well, if he ever finds a way to pull you into this twisted wonderland.

Jamil Viper

It truly is an honor to be considered as someone reliable (from babysitting Kalim) and acknowledged as an attendant who could shield you from any danger, truly. He is ready to put his life in line for you so why?

Why are you saying that there's someone else who might fit the position as your attendant more than him? And that person being that slimy eel no less!

Rook Hunt

Ah! This is amazing! To be able to charm you with his words and let him worm into your heart is truly a blessing! Would you like him to write you a poem detailing your beauty?

No no, mon chèri, you shouldn't grace those who are unbefitting of it, don't you think it's a waste to spare the other your grace? Allow this hunter to save you from that trouble.

Epel Felmier

H-huh? You want to dress him up? Naturally, he hates being treated as a doll, a girl no less! But... the idea of you helping him dress and helping him with makeup... he can do this. It is your way of gracing him after all...

Huh? You want to dress Lilia up too? Why? Because he's cuter? Oh no, there's no way there's someone who is prettier than him, look at him, look at how pretty he is in this dress!

Malleus Draconia

If anything, he will always hear you compare him and Riddle to the 'Queen of Heart' and 'Maleficient' from your world. You will praise him for being able to stand on the same level as the actress' beauty which makes him feel giddy.

But boy is he sulking when you start rambling about Riddle and the big-headed Queen. You will dote on him and Riddle back and forth.

Can't you just dote on him?

2K notes · View notes

fratboykate · 1 year

Note

I'm totally in support of the writers in theory but I'm trying to understand more of what you're fighting for because I've seen some people on twitter claim writers make more money a week than most of us make in a month so I'm trying to understand what the issue is. Also if that info is accurate. This is a genuine question. Not trying to have a "gotcha moment". I really want to hear from a writer.

people have always had wild misconceptions about how much a writer earns because of their lack of understanding of how the industry actually works. there's so many posts about how "you guys make 5k a week. what more do you want?!" yeah...let's do some math on that.

5k a week for 14 weeks (and that's a long room. a lot of rooms these days are 8-10 weeks. those are the dreaded mini-rooms we're trying to kill) is $70,000. for roughly three months of work. you'd think we're cooking with gas...BUT HOLD UP. that's gross! let's see everything that has to come out of that check:

10% to our agent

10% to our manager

5% to our entertainment attorney

5% to our business manager (not everyone has one but a lot of us do. i do, so that's literally 30% immediately off the top of every check)

most of these breakdowns ive seen downplay taxes severely. someone made one that says writers pay 5% in taxes and i would like to ask them "in what universe?". that doesn't even cover state taxes. the way taxes work in the industry is really complicated, but the short of it is most of us have companies for tax reasons so we aren't taxed like people on w2s/1099. if we did we'd be even more fucked. basically every production hires a writer's company instead of the writer as an individual. so they engage our companies for our services and then at the end of the year we (the company) pay taxes as corporations or llcs (depending on what the writer chose to go with). my company is registered as a "corporation" so let's go with those rates. california's corporate rate is 9% and the federal corporate tax rate is 21%. there's other expenses with running a business like fees and other shit so my business managers/accountants/bookkeepers have recommended i save between 35-40% of everything i make for when tax season comes.

you see where the math is at already??? 25-30% in commissions and then 35-40% in taxes. on the lower end you're at THE VERY LEAST looking at 60% of that check gone. 70% worst case scenario. suddenly those $70,000 people claim we make are actually down to $28,000 as the take home pay. and that's if you're only losing 60%. it goes down to $21,000 if it's 70%.

lets pretend you worked a long 14 week room (that's the longest room ive ever worked btw) and let's also be generous and say you only have 60% in expenses so the take home is $28,000. average rent in los angeles is around $2,800-$3,000. if you're paying $2,800 in rent that means you need AT LEAST $4,000 a month to have a semi decent life since you need to also cover groceries, gas, medical expenses, toiletries, phone, internet, utilities, rental and car insurances, car payments, student loan payments, etc etc etc. and again, this is los angeles. everything is more expensive so you're living BARE BONES on 4k. and these are numbers as a single person. im not even taking having children into account. so those $28,000 you take home might cover your life for 6-7 months. 3 of which you're in the room working. the reality is that once that room ends, you might not work in a room again for 6-9-12 months (i have friends whose last jobs were over 18 months ago) and you now only have about 3 months left of savings to hold you over. we have to make that money stretch while we do all the endless free development we do for studios and until we get our next paying job. so...3 months left of enough money to cover your expenses -> possible 9 months of not having a job. this is how writers end up on food stamps or applying to work at target.

this is why we're fighting for better rates and better residuals. residuals were a thing writers used to rely on to get them through the unemployment periods. residual checks have gone down from 20k to $0.03 cents. im not joking.

they've decimated our regular pay and then destroyed residuals. we have nothing left. so don't believe it when they tell you writers are being greedy. writers are simply fighting to be able to make a middle class living. we're not asking them to become poor for our sake. we're asking for raises that amount to 2% of their profit. TWO PERCENT. this is a fight for writing even being a career in five years instead of something you do on the side while you work retail to pay your bills. if you think shows are bad now imagine when your writer has to do it as a hobby because they need a real job to pay their bills and support a family. (which none of us can currently afford to have btw)

support writers. stop being bootlickers for billion dollar corporations. stop caring about fictional people more than you care about the real people that write them. if we don't win this fight it truly is game over. the industry as you know it is gone.

#wga strike #writer's strike #hollywood #anonymous #answers #myposts

7K notes · View notes

zriasstuff · 2 months

Text

Them watching you get ready <3

Slytherin boys x reader fluff headcanons (warning:delulu asf)

the collage isn’t the best, but at least you have all 6 faces now

It’s date-night, but you seem to be taking quite some time to get ready…

Tom Riddle:

Let’s be honest for a second and admit that if you were taking your sweet sweet time, he’d curse at you because everything has to go according to his schedule (i even doubt that he’d do the whole “date-night” thing, but that’s a separate issue)

He’d turn more impatient by the second and barge into your dorm/bathroom without knocking

Tom would rush you so badly and keep telling you to hurry up while rolling his eyes

While you’re doing your makeup he’d pick up each product with disgust and tell you that you look just fine

When you tell him that you need more time, he tells you that there wouldn’t be a date anymore if you didn’t follow him, besides he’d lecture you on your poor time management

Eventually he drags you out with him and dryly compliments you like “see, i told you you look good” (but innerly he enjoyed that you put in effort and wanted to look good for him, even if it took some time)

Mattheo Riddle:

He wouldn’t rush you when you tell him you need more time, instead he’d take advantage of watching you get ready

When you choose your clothes, he’d encourage you to do a little fashion show for him and he would tell you that you looked perfect in every single one

He would tell you to choose a short and tight dress though, we all know why ;)

During make-up he is totally one of those guys who say “it’s all the same shade”, and in reality it’s like maroon and bright red

As a joke he’d also apply some of the products, but wipe them off immediately because he feels too emasculated

When you ask him if you could do make-up on him some day he’d simply reply “sure, but then i would get to do whatever i want with you”

Draco Malfoy:

When you offer him to watch you get ready, since you still aren’t done, he immediately accepts

Draco totally loves seeing you get ready too because during your relationship he has spoiled you so much that half your closet/vanity is basically from him

Since he grew up close to his mother, he has actually spent a lot of time in his childhood going to barbers/salons/boutiques with her

So from that he has gained excellent taste, even helps you with styling your hair, and helps you pick out accessories

He knows how long this stuff can take, so he just takes the time to make you feel beautiful and confident, showering you with compliments and pecks “you look so good in the things i buy you darling”/“you are always so gorgeous and sexy”

Theodore Nott:

He wouldn’t mind that you were not on time, the date started the second he saw you, so you getting ready was just time that you could spend together too

You are afraid it takes away the surprise factor at first, but it’s not a big deal to him

When you start to change into different outfits, he’s always there to help you undress/unzip the dresses, taking the opportunity to smoothly move his hands down your body

That would just eventually turn into a makeout session though, you just couldn’t resist when he was being that touchy and ravishing too

It takes quite some time for you to actually get ready in the end because he always distracts you in the process, but in the end you would both have had a fun time

Blaise Zabini:

He’d be quite chill and sit on your bed when you tell him to wait, just watching you get ready at your vanity

He would maybe be a little bit annoying—asking you every three seconds if you were ready to go, and he would say “you literally look the same as always, what’s the point of all this”

Eventually he liked watching you more and more though, notice the difference, and carefully pay attention to everything you did

He’d learn to appreciate both your natural and “full-glam” beauty and just observe you with interest

As soon as you were done he’d immediately kiss you (ruining your lip-combo sadly) and his lips would be stained, and he’d be smiling, fascinated by your beauty

Lorenzo Berkshire:

When you tell him to wait outside, he’d respect that at first, but would grow impatient eventually

So, he goes up to you and tells you that he would like to be a part of the process

Opposite to Mattheo, he’d actually be down to you putting make-up on his face for fun (he’s fully convinced that he could pull anyone with or without makeup)

To be honest, he didn’t care much about what you put on because you looked hot in his eyes either way, but he knew the more interested he acted the more appreciative you’d be

Looking at you with puppy-eyes at all times is his specialty, and when you’re finally done he looks at you like you’re an angel fallen from heaven

1K notes · View notes

mochinomnoms · 3 months

Note

So uhhhh...... what other kinks would octavinnle have 😗

🦩

I already went into one I think Jade would have, so I'll list three new ones for each and a brief thing as to why, though it's not their only ones I would say it's some of their top ones.

Azul

Oral fixation: Azul has a refined palate, he can note each ingredient used in dishes with just his tongue! He's learned to put that tongue to good use, so it's logical to assume that he'd like to taste you as well. And Azul does love it so. There is no treat taster than you and your cum on his tongue, and while he's not one to indulge in his meals, for you he'd make an exception. I do hope that you are willing to keep your legs open for a quite some time, after all you wouldn't want to deny him of a treat, would you?

Praise kink: Let's be real, because of his childhood, Azul thrives on recognition and praise for his hard work. When he decides to go into something, it's never half-hearted, especially regarding his love and affection to you. So, praise him! Tell him what a good job he's doing, tell him to keep hitting that spot right there, oh god, Azul, you make me feel so goood~ It makes him feel so so good knowing that only he gets to make you feel like this, that only he gets to hear your voice praising him. It gets him off, so keep doing it at all times, whisper in his ear about how smart and wonderful he is in all aspects, the sweet tone in your voice gets him hot and heavy, turning into a need to keep hearing those honeyed words and show you just how deserving he is of your praise.

Breeding: Out of the trio, he is technically the only one with a mating season (two actually). And while he can usually get over those seasons on his own, with you at his side he instinctually develops a need to breed you silly! Who knew he had such a desire to become a daddy, you'll help him won't you? As his mate? Regardless of whether or not you can actually get pregnant, when the late spring and early fall come, he needs to fill your tummy with so much cum that it hurts! You'll spend at least two months out of the year with bent over or in a mating press until you're shuddering and twitching as milky white fluids are dripping from your hole. Now now, Azul can't have that, so won't you let him fill you just one more time? (It's never just one more time.)

Jade

Shibari: Jade thinks it's fascinating how humans don't have long, winding limbs to wrap their mates and make due with soft, pretty colored ropes. It's even more fascinating seeing the fat of your skin bulge against the ropes. Your chest, thighs, hips, all straining the ropes as your hands are tied against your back, helpless to his poking and prodding. Call him sadistic, but he loves seeing you so helpless underneath him, pretty eyes begging for him to use you and make you feel good. It makes him feel a sort of way to hear you beg to free your hands so you can hold him, dig your nails into his skin as your orgasm inches closer and closer. Jade does love having you be so helpless under him, free for him to use as he sees fit.

Service kink: Jade likes taking care of things, to be depended on. After all, he's so good at being a dependable partner, so why not place all your pleasure into his very capable hands? Be warned, though, Jade can be quite sadistic, and once you place your pleasure into his hands, it belongs to him and only him. There's no need to touch yourself when he hands long, nimble fingers to use, a long furling long to sink into your heat, and attentive eyes that watch and study every single moan, twitch, and breath you take. Jade will make sure that your lust filled brain will be drawn to him, immersed with the mind-blowing rapture he provides. All to the point that you'll only be able to cum through him, whether it be his mouth, hands, or dick. It's fine, Jade does love depend on, especially if it ruins you for anyone else after him. That's if you can bring yourself to leave, after all you'll never find another quite as attentive and caring as he. Jade's made sure of that.

Roleplaying: This plays a bit into Jade's service kink, but he does love dressing you up in cute outfits and making you play a bit. Perhaps he is a butler, and you're his master, bringing yourself down to ruin by a lowly servant as he fucks you into oblivion. Perhaps he's come to collect collateral from you for a deal, and you can only offer yourself. Maybe he's a big bad sea monster, and you're a sweet little human that drifted too far off into the sea. In any case, he loves playing into any of his roles, teasing you as you start of shy like an actor with stage fright. It's wonderful when Jade finally gets to see you lose yourself into your role, all for him. Though, don't be surprised if he decides to turn the table a bit, and dresses you up in a maid costume with a leash and collar. As much as he loves playing his usual role, Jade does also love seeing you coo and tend to him (and his dick) like the pretty, sweet spouse he knows you will be. Go on love, get on your knees and make him feel good. It's your responsibility to clean up the mess of slick you've left on his dick after all.

Floyd

Overstimulation: To no one's surprise, Floyd has plenty of energy to go around once he's interested in something, and you are very interesting to him. He wants to see just how much you can take of him and what he gives you until your crying and begging him to give you a break. But unless you give him your safe word, that delicious orgasm he just gave you is blending into the next as he seeks his own euphoria. But don't think that he won't just ignore his own overstimulation, because he will. Just feels so good for both of you that it almost hurts. And yet, Floyd just can't help and keep going. That yummy high on cloud 9 is gonna keep going, even through your shrieks and cries for a break, the rhythmic slap of skin, the shuddering breaths. He just can't stop, even if he wanted to, oh please Floyd! It's too much! It feels too good-AAAAH~ He'll keep going until you both pass out from sheer sensory overload and exhaustion, his dick still in you and ready to go when you wake back up.

Dumbification: This is a bit surprising, or maybe not, but Floyd loves fucking you until you're so sex-brained that all you can think about his him and his dick. He wants you to love his cock so much that you're bending over and spreading yourself open for him with hearts in your eyes. No thoughts, head empty except for Floyd and his cum. He wants a pretty smile with your tongue lolling out. He wants you to see him taking pictures of him fucking you with your hands forming a heart. He wants you to ignore anything and everything else except for him, because you're his little dummy that can only think about him and his pretty dick that's bruising your insides and shaping you for him. And only him.

Dacryphilia: This should actually come as no surprise, but Floyd gets really horny at seeing your tears streaming down your face. But not from being upset, no, he loves the tears that come from him overstimulating you. They're just so pretty! You're so cute, and he's so big, too big for you, but you try so hard! So forgive him if he's a bit mean, a little rough, and dragging out orgasm after orgasm from you so that you're whimpering and sobbing. Such a sweet sight reserved just for him, as only he can guarantee that these tears come from feeling good and not from something more sinister. Plus, Floyd really likes how you pout at him. It's just so cute!! And he just looooves cute things.

#mochi asks #twst #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #twst smut #twisted wonderland smut #jade leech #floyd leech #azul ashengrotto #jade leech x reader #floyd leech x reader #azul ashengrotto x reader #jade leech smut #floyd leech smut #azul ashengrotto smut #!nsfw #!breeding kink #🦩 anon

1K notes · View notes

slvttyplum · 4 months

Text

suguru talks you through it every single time.

his deep but soft voice ruffling through your ears as you do something all on his command? making your stomach tingle.

it was a different kind of pleasure, getting instructions to do something from a sexy ass man who has the voice of an angel.

telling you how fast to go, slow down, roll your hips, keep your eyes open, every command you could think of, suguru was saying it.

his voice had a pur to it, like a cat who is relaxing into your ears, he’ll say certain words or your name with a little roll in it.

making your things clench with pleasure, he knew how to use his voice for good and knew how to use it.

you’ll be on top of him and your legs would be almost about to give out and he’ll be below you gripping your thighs whispering to “take your time, breathe.”

his soft commanding voice made you want to go faster just so he could finish, it gave you a boost of confidence.

when he was far away he’ll send you voice messages with his voice low and deep like his mouth was directly up to the mic.

shivers ran down through you as you registered what he had said, having to repeat the voice message 2 or three times.

he knew how to really get you to do things, siting behind you, whispering in your ear how nasty you were touching yourself.

or fucking you and degrading you with that soft voice of his, almost sounding like sweet nothings instead of him calling you a nasty slut.

using every word he spoke to you as advantage knowing how much you loved it when he was deep in your ear telling you how to feel good.

his soft breath hitting your ear every-time he said anything really heightened your pleasure, it felt so good, like a coat in 20 degree weather.

“you like touching yourself to me, hm?”

“you like this nasty shit.”

“using me for your pleasure, i’m hurt.”

“shhh baby breathe, you can take me.”

“right there. it feels good doesn’t it?”

“just shut up… please just be a good girl.”

those phrases he said would come flowing through your ears in random moments of the day like he was there in that moment.

it made your cheeks heat up with embarrassment knowing it was wrong thinking about it, but he sounded so good.

your phone filled up with all the voice messages and videos he would send telling you the nastiest shit.

there was no shame, and you will never have any, if a man has something that makes you feel good, why not use it?

1K notes · View notes

lvlyghost · 1 year

Text

Cold Nights

Pairings: Simon "Ghost" Riley x F!Reader

Summary: Reader doesn't show up for morning training. Ghost doesn't know what to think.

Word Count: 794

Tw: fluff, angst, mentions of being sick, soldiers being scared of simon lol, ooc simon probably, he calls reader kid, i think that's it🤭

A/N: I'm sick and this came to my mind, I just want simon to take care of me okay???🥹🤧 this is super bad as usual. still hope you like it. pls remember english isn't my first language, corrections are welcome ✨💖

Masterlist✨

Ghost doesn't see her at the cafeteria, nor the training room. He's disgruntled. His eyes keep drifting apart from the soldiers in front of him, waiting for the next round of endless push ups he's gonna make them go through.

Why isn't she here?

His body feels restless, pacing back and forth.

Soap doesn't say anything, just shifts his weight from one foot to another.

"Johnny," he calls him. "You're in charge."

"Lt.?" He quirks a brow, not understanding. That's so unlike him.

"Got things to do."

He storms out of the room, the walls rattle when he closes the doors.

It's a cold day. Just like the day before.

Days used to mean nothing to him.

Time.

Until she came along. Three years ago.

That woman... he sighs.

Was it something he said? Didn't they talk about it last night?

Everything was fine.

Or so he thought.

"We shouldn't be out here, kid." He mutters. It's freezing, he can see her trembling even beneath her hoodie. Well it was actually his. The hoodie completely swallowing her small form.

"I know, I know!" She laughs. Her cheeks a beautiful shade of pink. "I just... it was too loud inside." That he can agree on. "Is it true?" She asks a few seconds later.

Simon stills. Choosing his next words carefully.

"What?"

"What Soap said." A heartbeat. "About us."

There's a silence that falls between them.

"Those were the words of a drunk man."

"Were they?" her smile is contagious. Damn her and her beautiful soul. "Would you come with me if I asked you to?"

He stares directly at her, trying to find any sign of doubt. He's always mesmerized by her gentle nature. That's something he never knew. Perhaps that's why he was so drawn to her. Longed to be wherever she was. Breathe the same air.

"I'd say that's highly inappropriate." He states. "And that you've had too many shots of whatever poor excuse of a whiskey Johnny made you drink."

"Price called it piss water." She shooks her head. "You're changing the subject!"

Simon chuckles. He really does.

"You've got such power over me no one else could ever have, kid."

And he's doomed.

He's trying so hard, going through the events of the night, trying to remember. What happened? Nothing out of line was said. She seemed content when they parted ways, right after he had kissed her good night outside her room. Simon saw the way her eyes lit up with a spark he never saw before. The longing stare. Remembers vividly how she had stopped him, grabbing him by the collar of his shirt pulling him down for another heated kiss.

He walks down the corridor with long strides. Hands balled into fists. He shouldn't be this mad. But that was the effect she had in him.

He tries to cool down. Ghost was scared too. What if she had changed her mind and didn't want anything to do with him? He was messing up his head at the mere thought.

He finally makes it to the room, knocking twice before her soft voice tells him he can come in.

Inside the room, all the curtains were closed, not a single ray of light made it inside apart from the lamp casting shadows around. Furrowing his brows he closes the door behind him with a low click.

"Kid?" He calls her. Immediately rolling on her side she welcomes him, red eyes, stuffy nose and looking disheveled.

"Sorry I missed training." She apologizes. Changing to a sitting position and waits for him to sit next to her.

"What's wrong?" He demands with a soft voice. She's still wearing his hoodie from last night. Rubbing her eyes she gives Simon a tired smile.

"I'm just really sick Simon." She answers, he can hear her hoarse voice now.

"Bloody hell, love." His hand goes straight to her face, caressing her cheek. "Did you go to the infirmary?" Closing her eyes, she rest her head against his hand.

"Mhm. Got some painkillers prescribed. Still feel horrible."

"Good, it'll take some time for you to feel better. You need to rest, okay?". The look he gave her leaves no room for discussion.

"Wasn't planning on leaving my bed you know?" He smiles ever so slightly. "Would you stay with me?" When he doesn't answer right away she adds: "never mind you'll catch whatever this bug is and i don't ..."

"Sweetheart," he interrupts her rambling. "Scoot over."

She looks at him wide-eyed.

"You... you don't," she stutters.

"No, I don't mind at all. If there's anything you need just tell me, copy?" She nods, staring at his blue eyes. "Told you we shouldn't have been outside last night."

"Even if it meant catching a cold, I'm glad we did, Simon."

#call of duty modern warfare 2 #cod mwii #cod #cod mw2 #cod x reader #cod ghost #ghost x reader #call of duty ghost simon riley #simon riley imagine #simon riley x reader #john price #john price x reader #cod konig #cod mw22

5K notes · View notes

seananmcguire · 11 months

Note

That Xiran Jay Zhao video about the amount of time it takes to get paid by the publisher, a couple of time she says "that's just the way it is." Are there actual, legitimate business reasons for holding off paying someone 6 or 8 or more months what they've earned for their book? Or is it the publisher basically going "We'll pay you when we pay you. What are you gonna do about it?" because they're essentially the one in charge?

And is it the same for all authors? Or is there an unofficial "tier" system based on your name? Are they telling people like Stephen King or James Patterson or Neil Gaiman "you'll see your money in 8 months" or are they more likely to be getting monthly checks just because of who they are?

There are some legitimate business reasons, yes.

Okay, so let's look at the way a book is sold to a publisher. I'm going to use very round numbers, because I don't want to do a lot of math right now. So say I sell a book for $15,000 under the traditional three installment contract--signing, delivery/acceptance, and publication. What this means is I sign the contract, I get a $5,000 check! Yay! I will also get checks when the book is turned in and accepted, emphasis because it means I can't just give them a word jumble and claim I turned the book in, and then again when the book comes out. We're ignoring side situations like "book is never turned in" and "book is never published."

But wait! My agent gets 15% off the top of each of those checks, which isn't a whole lot at $5,000--$750--but means I'm receiving effectively a $4,250 check, and then waiting maybe a year for the next one.

In the US, 1/3rd of that check goes automatically to taxes, and I cannot math that very well, but it's about $1,416. So I'm left with $2,834 as my payment for the year. This is why most authors will have day jobs.

This structure makes sense. They pay you to call dibs on your book: they pay you when the dibs pan out: they pay you when they can start making money. Now, recently, some publishers have started going to a four stage advance payment, and I can't see any real justification for that. Maybe someone will give me one. I'd be fascinated to know what it is.

So here's the thing: until the book is out, there is no more money. You've been paid for the book, but it's not making money for the publisher yet, and so of course you're not getting more money. It used to be the expectation that your advance would pay your bills while you wrote the next book; that is clearly no longer the case. I live in Seattle. A single check from a three-stage advance isn't paying my mortgage for a month. But.

Once the book is out, it can start making money, and that's when things get complicated. Say a bookstore places an order for 10 copies of AWESOME NEW BESTSELLER. Yay! That should be ten sales, and ten units of whatever your royalty is, right? Only these are physical items, and bookstores can return them, so your publisher marks it down as "ten sales, five reserve against returns," meaning you're only getting credit for five sales until the return window (usually a year) runs out. Where it gets a little hinky is when the bookstore sells all ten and orders ten more, and the publisher still has it marked as "five (now ten) reserve against returns." Basically, you're only getting credit for half your sales until that reserve window closes.

Sadly, thanks to certain retailer policies, this has been grandfathered into applying to electronic sales as well.

TL,DR: The delay in royalty payments is to give bookstores time to sell the books, and mean that your publisher doesn't pay you for a hundred sales, only to ask for the money from fifty to be given back when books are returned. This could happen faster in the modern world, but that would involve publishers paying us faster, and they like to keep the money in their hands as long as possible.

To the best of my knowledge, no one is A Big Enough Author that they can demand their money now, right now. And this is why trad publishing continues to self-select for the wealthy and the young.

3K notes · View notes

porcelainseashore · 3 months

Text

Heavenly Creatures

Pairing: Altar Boy! Leon Kennedy x Catholic School Girl! Reader

Summary: Growing up in a conservative, Catholic community, you and Leon were kept apart as kids for your own good. However, a fateful encounter at church many years later causes you to question those boundaries.

Content & Warnings: 18+ Smut, porn with plot, unprotected p in v, oral (m & f receiving), rimming (f receiving), semi-public sex (church), Catholicism, religious imagery & symbolism, temptation, guilt, shaming, name-calling, growing up, smoking, swearing, romance, fluff, secret relationship.

Authors' Note: Leon and Reader are in senior high and 18 when smut happens. No guarantee that you won’t burn in hell after reading this 🔥😂

Special thanks to AliBelleRosetta for being my sounding board + shadesoflsk & Cameron for your helpful feedback.

AO3 Link

Snake. Devil. Satan’s spawn.

Those were the names you had grown accustomed to as a child. You didn’t know why you were called them, instead of the one your parents had given you. You were too little to understand. All you knew was that you were made to feel different. Maybe you were really an anomaly from the rest after all.

Instead of being quiet and shy, you were loud and boisterous. It was natural for you, seeing as you were going through your tomboy phase, which was the exact reason your parents had stuck to when they received complaints about your behavior. They laughed it off, while others reigned their daughters in, forcing them into perfect Sunday dresses, braided hair adorned with pastel ribbons and clean, black Mary Jane shoes. Good enough to fit into a pretty gift box with wrapping paper. But you would tear it all down, before anyone could lay a finger on you.

Growing up in a place where other children were told to shun you was difficult at first. But then, you learnt to play by yourself and relish in the power of make believe. You climbed trees, rolled in the mud and ran through the forest fending off imaginary monsters. Sometimes, when you bumped into other groups of boys who threw stones and made fun of you, you fought back, further earning the title of crazy witch! Who needed these idiots anyway? You were your own best company.

One day, you sat in your disheveled, cream cotton dress, swinging your legs from a tree in your front lawn as usual. It overlooked the suburban neighborhood street, giving you a bird’s eye view of your surroundings. You noticed a family of three strolling along the sidewalk, though the couple gave you a disapproving look as they walked past, and whispered to their little, adolescent boy. They thought they were being so discreet, but you could hear every single word they were saying.

“Don’t pay attention to her. She’s bad news.”

Regardless of this remark, the boy gave in to his curiosity and as he peered up, you held his wide-eyed gaze. His irises were azure in color, glowing as it caught the early dusk light from different angles, shifting across a stunning spectrum of bluish, iridescent hues. You were captivated by them, and as you continued staring, his cheeks turned rosy red, though it seemed like he could not break away from you either. That moment was abruptly cut short, as his father smacked the back of his head, chiding his son for disobeying him.

“Come along now, Leon.” The older man wrapped an arm around the boy’s shoulders, turning him away from your direction.

Leon. So, that was his name. As you watched them turn the corner at the end of the street and head off, you wondered if and when you’d see him again.

━━━━━━━━━━━

Leon had heard the stories passed around about you. His parents had often commented about your family as being one of those ‘weird, hippy types’. Frankly, this didn’t scare him, but rather, it fascinated him. They made you appear like something he had read in a book about myths and legends, and he wanted to see if it was real.

The next time he went out to play in the field, he walked by your place again on purpose, even though it would have been the longer route. As he had predicted, you were up in the tree again, lounging across its branches with your eyes closed, like a slithery snake basking in the sun. Your dress was stained with grass and dirt, and your feet were soiled and filthy. Twigs poked out haphazardly from your knotted, messy hair.

You looked like a creature of sorts, alright, he thought.

He inched towards the base of the tree trunk gingerly, trying not to stir the sleeping beast. But as he got closer, he accidentally stepped into a pile of dead leaves, which crunched underfoot.

You roused from your slumber then, rubbing your eyes as you stretched your arms out with a lazy yawn. He flinched when you looked downwards at him, as if you might strike out, but you just smiled and said, “Hi.”

He was confused then. From the descriptions of you, he had expected you to breathe fire and gnash your teeth at him fiercely, but you were just a normal girl. He gave you a puzzled look, nodding as he greeted you with a stutter, “Hi… I-I’m, uh, Leon.”

“I know.” You grinned.

“You do?” He looked astounded, as if you’d conducted some dark ritual to find out.

You picked up on this and teased him, wiggling your fingers as you mouthed, “Magic…”

He laughed, relaxing his stiff shoulders and asking you for your name. He’d only known you until now as that girl, or one of those nicknames people gave you out of spite.

You introduced yourself and offered him a half-eaten apple you had munched on before napping on the tree. He hesitated at first, regarding it as if it were a forbidden fruit, but eventually he reached out for it. Gratefully, he bit in, savoring the flavorful burst of its juicy flesh.

“Do you go to church?” He asked suddenly, out of the blue.

Shielding your eyes from the afternoon sun with your hand, you squinted at him. “Yeah, why?”

“Oh.” He paused, considering his next words, though he blurted out with unfiltered honesty, “Well, my dad said that demons can’t enter hallowed ground.”

“I’m not a demon,” you huffed indignantly.

“No, you aren’t,” he agreed, waving his hands in the air apologetically, trying to salvage the situation. “I think you’re nice, actually.” His face was warm and pink again.

“I think you’re nice too.”

And it continued on like this. Some days, he’d pop over to visit and speak with you from below the tree, when he was sure no one was watching. Until a day came where he wasn’t as careful, and was spotted by a concerned neighbor, who ratted him out to his parents.

You were sad that he wasn’t allowed to see you again, but you’d grown used to being alone for most of your childhood, so you tried to put it behind you and move on, unaware that he’d often look out for you at each week’s Sunday Mass.

━━━━━━━━━━━

A number of years passed, and you filled out into your own body. You were in your senior year of an all-girls Catholic high school, and had recently turned 18. Reaching womanhood also meant that you became acutely aware of the changes in the way society treated you now, as compared to the opposite sex. Heads turned as you stalked around with one of the more unruly cliques in your school. Instead of being name-called after otherworldly creatures, you were reduced to bitch, slut, or whore.

People hated what they couldn’t understand or control. You’d been giving the nuns a hard time by asking controversial questions about the biblical text you were meant to study and recite blindly. Detention was nothing new to you and your friends, whom you’d been caught smoking cigarettes together with on school grounds. You were a rebel at heart, and the rest of the law-abiding community wanted to crush that and make you conform.

Leon, on the other hand, had been going to the all-boys school next door, which shared a brother school relationship with yours. He was in the same year and age as you, though being a man meant he had the privilege of getting away with certain things you couldn’t. Even there, your name wasn’t safe from being circulated around the rumor mill. You were the subject of boys’ locker room talk. They associated you with the ‘bad girl’ crowd, highlighting your love for reading banned books and boasting about supposed sexual escapades with you.

“She’ll do favors,” they said, making vulgar gestures by moving their fist back and forth in front of their mouth, while poking their tongue against their cheek.

Leon slammed his locker door shut and stormed off. It made him uncomfortable that they gossiped about you that way, but he was even more ashamed of the fact that he made no effort to stand up for you. He hardly knew you, but it didn’t take a genius to figure out that what they were doing was finding a scapegoat to blame. That, unfortunately, time and time again, happened to be you.

Most of the students there were sexually active anyway, but no one had complained about them. As long as one kept things on the down-low and upheld a certain moralistic façade, they were considered as ‘innocent’, ‘pure’, or ‘normal’ even. For one, he was pretty sure that his father was having an affair with the church choir mistress, but that seemed to go overlooked.

Everyone’s such hypocrites, he pondered, frowning in distaste. Including himself. Although he liked to think that he was brave and courageous, in actuality, he was afraid of rocking the boat. Fitting in was more important, just as his parents had taught him from a young age. It was the side of him that he hated the most, but could not get rid of.

Gathering his belongings, he left school and hurried off. He’d been requested last-minute to serve at Mass that evening, as one of the other altar boys had fallen ill. At church, he exchanged his school uniform for the standard black cassock and white surplice, before starting with the Introductory Rites.

You, on the other hand, had been singled out along with a bunch of other troublesome girls to attend Evening Mass with the Mother Superior that day. It was just your luck that you had to devote an hour of your time to a set of outdated rituals and prayers, with the aim of reflecting upon your sins. The most frustrating part of this exercise was that all of you were placed in the front row pews, so there was no chance of daydreaming or dozing off in front of the priest. You’d never been much of a believer, but sometimes you did speculate if God was watching your every move from above.

As you stood up for the entrance procession, which signaled the start of Mass, a familiar mop of dirty blonde hair and dazzling blue eyes passed by. You’d recognize that anywhere, but it was a wonder how you hadn’t realized that he was serving as an altar boy all this while. Maybe your Mass timings hadn’t aligned? Or maybe you just never paid much attention in church. You’d only seen him here and there when he attended Mass with his family as part of the congregation, but you ignored him back then, because you didn’t want to remember the feeling of losing the closest thing you had to a friend in your pre-teen days.

When Leon turned around to face the congregation for the greeting, he gulped as he saw you, standing almost directly in front of him as both of you made the Sign of the Cross. Speak of the devil, he muttered internally, before chastising himself for unintentionally insulting you and shook that thought away.

You gave him a coy smile as he scampered off to where he was meant to be stationed. For the first time in a while, you took the chance to admire his chiseled features and how much he had grown. He had always been attractive, but he was no longer the little boy you used to know, and instead now a fine, young man, in an even finer religious attire. Puberty did him good, you mused.

All at once, a mischievous plan flashed across your mind as you plotted how to win his attention. It would be an entertaining way to pass the time in this mundane institution. Viewing the school uniform as yet another means for the authorities to curb people’s freedom and creative expression, you had a habit of violating the dress code by making minor adjustments to it. Whether it was shortening the hem of your skirt or wearing below the ankle socks, you went for it. And today was no exception.

You waited until it was time to be seated before attempting to catch his gaze. Within a few minutes, he sneaked a peek your way and you stifled a laugh. Bingo. As you continued looking straight at him, you stretched your legs out cautiously, so as not to alert the Mother Superior, who sat beside you, to your antics. His eyes widened and flickered, as you showed off their length, rotating your ankles in small circles languidly. The other altar boys started to take note and whispered in hushed tones amongst themselves. But you only had eyes for Leon, scrutinizing him like a hawk, as you bared your teeth with a sly grin plastered across your face.

It was only a matter of time before the Mother Superior rapped you on the legs with a thin, wooden cane she carried around for doling out such punishments. The other girls in your row giggled as you returned your legs to a respectable position, disregarding the smarting pain that had accompanied the blow.

It was worth it, you reasoned, spotting Leon’s lopsided smile, as he turned away to hide his blush.

This soon carried on like an unspoken game between you and Leon. You’d attend Mass whenever he was serving as an altar boy, and he’d look out for you, exchanging glances like a secret code shared between the two of you. A sense of thrill arose within him each time, as to what you’d try next. If only he knew what you were capable of.

At some point, you grew bolder. During the Holy Communion, where Leon had been helping the priest to hold the patina under the chins of those who received the Sacred host, you made sure once again to make eye contact with him the whole way through. Your mouth was slightly agape, as you extended your tongue, clasping your hands together in a pious prayer position. When the priest placed the host in your mouth, you swallowed it suggestively, licking your upper lip for a finishing touch. Leon nearly stumbled over backwards as his face turned bright red like a tomato. The last thing he heard was your silvery laughter, and you returned to your seat as if nothing had happened. You had ensnared him now.

When Mass ended, you slipped him a note, asking him to meet you at the confessional when everyone else had been ushered out. You knelt in the penitent compartment, waiting for him to arrive, confident that he would show up. A few minutes later, you heard someone enter the booth where the priest usually sat.

“Bless me, Father, for I have sinned,” you began. Through the latticed screen, you could just about make out Leon’s face as he chuckled.

“What are you playing at?”

“You tell me,” you challenged, testing the waters. “I haven’t received any complaints.”

“Well, I have a question,” he mentioned quietly. “Do you still remember when we hung out back then? At the tree.”

There was pang in your heart, as you recalled your childhood memories. “Of course, you were the only one who bothered to speak to me.”

You pursed your lips before taking the plunge. “I really appreciated that.”

There was a momentary pause, as he took your words in. “I wish they didn’t separate us.”

“It isn’t too late to start over.” It was humiliating how eager you sounded. No matter how much you tried to repress it, you yearned to rekindle that connection you had with him once.

“Listen, I like you,” he admitted, sighing heavily. “But, I can’t go public with this. My parents-”

“Who says it has to be public?” You retorted defensively.

His heartfelt confession emboldened you, yet a part of you felt dejected that this was the best option he could offer. However, you didn’t want to concede without giving it a shot.

He made a noise which sounded like he was in disbelief. “You mean-”

“Shall I come over and show you?” You interrupted, already getting up before he could answer.

“Y-yeah,” he stammered. “I-I’d like that, I guess.”

Exiting your compartment, you stepped out and swiftly went over to where he was, closing the door behind you. It was crammed and stuffy in this tiny box with two people, but beggars couldn’t be choosers. Giving him a once-over, it struck you that he was still in his altar boy attire and perhaps what you were about to do was wrong on so many levels, but you brushed those thoughts aside.

“Um-”

Before he could speak any further, you ran your hands up along his chest and planted your lips onto his, soft and pillowy in texture. He let out a low moan, easing into your embrace as he kissed back, holding onto the back of your head for better leverage. His tongue grazed across your lips and you parted them in response, allowing it to slip inside as you tasted each other. Grabbing the collar of his cassock, you pressed your bodies together heatedly. You sucked on his tongue, eliciting another moan from his throat, as you shuffled him around, pushing his back against the wooden wall with a loud thud. Both of you had lost yourselves in a whirlwind of kisses, oblivious to the outside world and the ruckus you were making.

However, it was hard to ignore the hymn that was being sung when the next Mass started. Leon froze, before pulling away hastily. His mouth was red and swollen, and a pearly string of saliva connected it with yours.

“Shit, we lost track of time,” he panted.

If you didn’t want to be seen, you’d need to remain where you were until the Mass ended. In other words, both of you were trapped here for at least another hour.

Not being one to let such matters ruin the vibe, you responded, “That’s not a problem for me.” Trailing a lone finger down Leon’s body seductively, you let it come to rest above the growing bulge in his cassock.

“Are you serious?” He breathed, as you cupped your hand around it, palming him through his clothes.

“You got a better idea?” You murmured in his ear, squeezing his erection a little as you continued rubbing against it.

“Don’t get me wrong, it feels amazing.” His voice was strained as he spoke. “But, it’s just…”

“Catholic guilt?” You teased.

“Yeah, probably.” He nodded sheepishly.

“Well, maybe if we get you out of this thing.” You gestured to his attire. “You might relax into it more.”

“Makes sense,” he agreed, tugging the surplice over his head and discarding it to the ground. “Though it never really goes away, does it?”

You shrugged, shaking your head. “I still get it, but it’s less of an issue now.” It made you follow up with a question of your own. “Does that mean I’m a bad person?”

His eyes crinkled as he grinned. “You're doing it again.”

“Hm?”

“Guilt,” he indicated. “But to answer your question, no, I don’t think you’re a bad person.”

“Doesn’t matter anyway.” You tried to deflect the topic, knowing the rumors that people spread about you. Leon had probably heard it all. “At least there’s still hope for you.”

“Thanks?”

“Don’t thank me yet.” You winked, removing the sash from his cassock as he unbuttoned the rest of it, revealing a plain white shirt and a pair of shorts underneath.

He snickered as you clucked your tongue at the sight. “What did you expect me to do? Go Commando?”

“Would’ve been hot,” you pointed out.

Leon had always been perceptive. From your interactions, he began to suspect that sometimes you relied on lighthearted banter as a way to mask your nervousness and other underlying emotions.

Nestling his fingers under your chin, he turned you towards him. “You sure about this?”

“Mm hm.” It was sweet of him to check in. Most guys never offered you the same courtesy. “Been thinking about it since Communion,” you added brazenly.

He snorted as you gave him a quick peck on the lips. Working your way down, you kissed his clothed body, pulling the waistband of his underwear and shorts to his ankles. Kneeling before him, you reached for his cock, smearing beads of his precum carelessly along his velvety skin, while you pumped his hot shaft slowly.

He inhaled sharply, snapping his eyes shut, as he tilted his head back in pleasure. In the background, you could hear the priest’s sermon droning on.

With a smug smile, you warned, “Do me a favor and try to keep it down, will you?”

Before he had a chance to react, you filled your mouth with his cock, sliding all the way down its hardened length.

“Jesus,” he groaned.

Instantly, you released it with a pop and tutted in mock disappointment, “Taking the Lord’s name in vain?”

“We’re so going to hell for this,” he laughed faintly, tangling his hands in your hair.

“Ah-” He gasped again, as you held onto the base of his cock, lifting it to flatten your tongue on its underside. Slathering it with saliva, you took his balls into your wet mouth, one at a time, sucking on them delectably. “Fuck!”

“Don’t you ever shut up?” You joked.

“Not if you keep doing what you’re doing, angel.”

Angel. That was a new one. You’d never been called that before, but you liked the sound of it.

Wrapping your lips around his cock, you started a steady rhythm, bobbing your head up and down his shaft. Each time you came up, you flicked your tongue at the tip, licking it as you stared up at him. His eyes flew open, gazing at you with lust and arousal while you sucked him off more vigorously.

Sliding his cock in deeper, you allowed it to hit the back of your throat, causing you to make a guttural noise. Clenching his fist, he bit down hard on his knuckles to stop himself from crying out. If this was hell, he’d stay right here with you. He couldn’t think straight anymore, as he bucked his hips forward in response.

Grabbing his ass, your fingernails left crescent shaped indents on his skin, as you let him fuck your mouth to chase his high. Tears lined your eyelashes and sweat poured down your brow. It had gotten incredibly hot and humid in this enclosed space. But his muted moans only served to turn you on even more. You wondered how perverse and trashy you looked in this position, though Leon could only mumble the opposite in his feverish state.

Soon, he tensed and quivered while hissing through gritted teeth, “God, I’m gonna cum.”

Lady Luck appeared to be on your side, as the congregation were in the middle of singing another hymn, which inadvertently muffled whatever sounds were coming from the confessional. He struggled to hold in his groans as you felt a thick, salty load of his cum wash up against your throat. You choked a bit before swallowing it whole.

Collapsing backwards, you leaned against the cool surface of the seat behind you, wiping the edges of your mouth. Tucking his spent dick back under his clothes, he sank down beside you, kissing you gently and tasting himself on your lips.

“You ok?” He brushed his thumb along your cheek.

You nodded silently and smiled, contemplating if there would be a future to what you had with him now.

“I ruined you,” he jested, showering you with kisses along your jawline.

“As if.” You rolled your eyes, but deep down, you knew it was the truth.

And, just like he had read your mind, he uttered the magic words, “So, when will I see you again?”

━━━━━━━━━━━

Since the encounter at the confessional, you continued your clandestine meetings with Leon, just like back in the old days, except both of you were now wiser in covering your tracks. In public, you pretended not to know each other, yet shared furtive, longing glances when you were in the same vicinity. Sometimes, he would make an excuse to brush past you, his touch ghosting across the curve of your spine, your shoulders, the back of your hand to the tip of your pinkie finger. Away from prying eyes, you hooked up passionately, damning each other further to hell. How many levels were there again? You’d lost count.

You enjoyed the moments spent with him. The aftercare and cuddling. The long talks into the night. You understood each other somehow, it wasn’t like this with other people. So, if the Day of Judgment arrived, why would God not sympathize with you both?

Despite that, neither of you had put a label on where you stood with each other. How did this secret relationship work? If you were found out, would he ditch you like before? Would you be thrown under the bus, so that he could be purified again? It wasn’t long until insecurity reared its ugly head, gnawing at you from within.

Leon sensed something was off as you lay in his arms, naked while he spooned you in the back seat of his car, parked along a desolate dirt path near the forest. You had that pensive look on your face, like you were in a world of your own, one where he couldn’t enter.

Pulling you close to him, he kissed the top of your shoulder, coaxing you out of your reverie. “Wanna talk about it?”

You hummed noncommittally. After a long pause, you asked, “Are you embarrassed by me?”

He was caught off-guard by the question and his breathing stilled. “No,” he argued. “Why would you think that?”

“I’m just tired of hiding,” you sighed. “It’s like I’m making you do something bad.”

There was a brief ache in his chest, as guilt swelled up like a wave. Coward, an inner voice spat.

Carding his fingers through your hair, he pressed his lips against the temple of your head. “You make me feel like the best version of myself.”

“Hm.” You pinched your lips together, wanting to believe him, but you weren’t convinced.

He observed this, but decided not to press the issue any further, knowing that you needed action, not words.

She’ll be your downfall. A surly voice piped up within him, like fire and brimstone. He shook it off, ignoring the moral tug-of-war that had occurred once he made that statement, as he vowed to prove himself to you in the coming days.

━━━━━━━━━━━

The next time you’d agreed to meet was in church, after the very last Mass of the day. He was serving as an altar boy again, and you were intrigued as to whether he had planned to reenact the entire confessional scene or switch it up with something new, like making you go through the Stations of the Cross while fucking you. You giggled at the idea, only to be shushed by a fellow parishioner, whom you had disturbed in meditative prayer.

When Mass ended and everyone except yourself had left the nave, you waited patiently for him in the pews. After a while, you felt a tap on your shoulder and turned around to face Leon, who had changed into his casual clothes. As you got to your feet, he cupped the sides of your face in his hands, closing the distance, and bringing your lips to meet his in a fervent kiss. You were slightly taken aback by his initiation, since he was usually the shyer one out of the two of you.

Claiming your hand in his, he led you to the front, where the altar stood before the austere crucifix that hung from the wall. He smirked, noticing the look of shock and incredulity on your face, as it gradually began to dawn on you what he had in mind. However, he was anxious too, you could tell from the way his hand was trembling. He was sealing his fate, and you were both going down together. Nothing could bring you back after this ultimate act of blasphemy.

At the foot of the altar, he caressed his lips against yours. “I guess God is our witness now.”

Leaning in, you found yourselves consumed in a lip lock, which deepened with each passing second as you helped each other out of your clothes, kicking them off unceremoniously to the side. He spun you around, bending you forward against the smooth, marble top of the altar. The cold surface caused your nipples to harden and goosebumps to form on your skin. You shivered as he spread your legs wider apart and knelt down, holding your thighs as he licked a firm stripe along your silken folds.

As he continued to lap at the sensitive flesh, he brought a hand towards your clit, stroking it softly with his middle finger. You jerked from the sensation, whimpering as he alternated between thrusting his tongue into your heat and suckling it with his lips. There was a slight pressure as you felt one of his fingers sliding into your pussy, already soaked with arousal. At the same time, his tongue trailed up towards your rim, teasing it with long, flat licks.

“Oh my god!” You gasped, gripping the edge of the altar, as an electrifying tingle coursed through your veins.

There was a playful smack on your ass. “Forgotten the Third Commandment already?” Leon scolded.

“Huh?”

“Taking the Lord’s name in vain,” he mimicked your tone from when you had teased him at the confessional.

“Ugh,” you whined. “I’m sure this is the least of our concerns.”

You felt his hot breath against your asshole before he dipped his tongue in lightly. Simultaneously, he pumped your pussy, pushing in another finger and stretching you out, before his tongue went back to circling around your rim, inciting a string of moans from your mouth.

“Feeling good?”

“Mm, yes,” you replied hoarsely. “But when are you going to fuck me?”

He coughed out a laugh at your bluntness, before imparting a piece of unsolicited advice. “Patience is a virtue.”

You groaned at his quip. “Really, Leon? Are you-”

He interrupted rudely, pressing his hand on your back as he entered you, burying his cock deep into your cunt. You nearly screamed in ecstasy as he pounded his hips against your ass repeatedly, already setting a brutal pace from the beginning. Maybe you should’ve been careful of what you wished for.

“What was that again?” He taunted.

You growled, clenching your jaw as you felt his dick dragging against your sensitive walls. The lewd sound of skin slapping against skin echoed across the space. Your mind fogged up in an insatiable haze as you pushed back rhythmically against his thrusting, allowing him to penetrate you further, and taking pleasure in how his head brushed against your cervix with each stroke.

“So close,” you rasped, your core tightening as if it was about to burst.

At this, he pulled away briefly, flipping you over as he lifted you onto the altar top. He had a bruising grip around your thighs, which you wrapped around his waist instinctively, interlocking your ankles behind his back to draw him closer. Bewitched, he took a moment to drink in the divine sight of your flushed, moist body, supple and wanting in his arms, before kissing you sloppily on the mouth. Pressing his forehead against yours, he asserted, “You don’t know what you do to me, angel.”

With that, he rutted into you relentlessly, your breasts bouncing as you clung to the back of his neck, crying out in rapture. When you finally snapped, a glimmer from the gold cross necklace he wore daily flashed before your eyes. You looped your index finger around it, tugging at it as you peered up at the bleeding face of Christ looking down at you ominously from the crucifix. The last remains of the day’s light filtered through the stained glass behind him, casting a kaleidoscope of mottled colors across your bodies, the altar and the stone floor, like a disease.

You realized you had tempted Leon beyond salvation. But in spite of it, he had followed you willingly. This was the proof he had wanted to show you. You were the angel he would desecrate everything for. He’d cut your wings off so you’d be his and stay.

His cock throbbed with desire as he rode you through your orgasm. As he neared the edge, he pulled out, finishing himself off. Nuzzling his face into your neck, he murmured a mixture of curses and professions against your skin, while spurting hot white cum over the mound of your pussy. Holding onto the marbled structure for support, he bent over you, placing tender kisses on your eyes and your lips.

It seemed as if he had turned his back on God and worshiped you now. But instead of a guilty conscience, you felt nothing but love. Silently, both of you cleaned up and got dressed. He delicately reattached the butterfly clip that had come loose in your hair, while you wiped away the lipstick that had smudged onto his face. There would be no signs of what had transpired, except he had another surprise lined up for you.

Upon exiting the church doors, Leon took your hand, lacing his fingers through yours, as you walked out onto the street together. You were his - he’d show you off to the whole damn world without shame.

#leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy #leon kennedy smut #leon kennedy fluff #religious au #church au #resident evil #porcelainscribbles

1K notes · View notes

ellecdc · 3 months

Note

hi lovie !

I ADORE your writing and get so excited everytime you post 😭

I wanted to ask if you’re okay with writing a poly!marauders x reader fic where r is an overthinker and over analyzes small things. It brings r to think the boys are mad at reader so r begins to close off— happy ending w/ healthy communication, just them reassuring r

🤍you can absolutely ignore this!!

thank you baby! I'm so glad to have you here with me 😭 thanks for your request 🫶

poly!marauders x fem!reader

CW: insecurities, overthinking, belief of conflict, eventual healthy communication skills, men behaving rationally (that's how you know it's fiction) jkjkjkjkjk 👀

You knew you were overthinking; you could actually hear yourself spiraling as you chewed aggressively on your cuticles. You ran through every single interaction you and the boys had throughout the past few days and couldn’t help but come to the same conclusion every time.

They were mad at you.

And even saying it aloud made you feel silly because, really, what could you have possibly done that would have managed to upset all three of them without knowing about it?

There had been a few disagreements between the four of you since the beginning of the relationship; more specifically since you had joined the relationship.

The boys, it seemed, went through most of their more volatile fights prior to you meeting them.

But that didn’t mean there weren’t arguments. There were always differences of opinions, some hurt feelings, and learning everyone’s sensitivities and love languages etc. didn’t happen overnight; it took time.

One thing you were particularly thankful for was that you had yet to ever feel like the boys were ‘ganging up’ on you. Your argument always stayed between you and the participant of the conversation and everyone else opted to stay out of it unless they felt they could provide some helpful insight.

But for all of them to be mad at you without some big blow up happening? You couldn't imagine what would have caused it.

It wouldn’t have been anything you said or done to Sirius, as he was a very head strong person who preferred to face things upfront and head on. If you had done something wrong to Sirius, you would have heard about it.

James was a wild card since he usually wore his feelings on his sleeve, but he also had a tendency to paint a smile on his face and smile through the pain in order to keep the peace.

Remus was often stoic and the voice of reason, but you also knew he could be incredibly sensitive.

Oh god... had you done something to upset Remus? You must have...it’s the only rational explanation. He’d likely be telling Sirius not to say anything to you, and since Sirius struggled in biting his tongue, it would make sense that he opt for the “if you have nothing nice to say, don’t say anything at all” route.

And though James did tend to smile through the pain in order to keep the peace, he was also fiercely protective of his people – particularly when those people don’t seem inclined to stand up for themselves.

Oh god. Is this why they asked you to come over tonight? They wanted to talk to you...no, they wanted to break up with you.

By the time James opened the door, you had forgotten you even knocked. He was all bright smiles until he took in your form – he was disappointed to see you.

“Hello, honey. Come on in.” He said, though his words were stilted, sounding oddly scripted and rehearsed.

“Hey sweets!” Sirius called from somewhere in their flat, “have you eaten yet?”

“Yeah.” You called back, having to clear your throat when your voice came out gravelly. You could feel James’ eyes burning a hole into the side of your face.

“Moony’s running late from work, but he’ll be home soon.” James announced as he ushered you into the living room.

You scanned your surroundings, cataloguing everything like it might be your last time in here.

You found signs of Remus’ love of trinkets and the oddities everywhere you looked, as well as signs of James and Sirius feeding into that by bringing him home things they’ve found as well. There’s a small pewter fox you bought on your trip to the coast sitting on one of the shelves of his bookcase.

Picture frames lined the walls; evidence of Sirius’ love for photography, his camera, and his favourite people.

And the god-awful pillow James found at an estate sale and insisted it have a place on the couch. It was ugly, it was lumpy, it didn’t match with anything else in the space, but it was James’ and he loved it.

Sirius came bounding into the room and rubbed at James’ shoulder affectionately, pecking a quick kiss to the crown of your head in hello before breezing by to head to the kitchen.

“He just got a home a few moments ago, he’s gonna heat up some leftovers for him and for Remus when he gets home.” James explained.

“Do you want any, doll?” Sirius called.

“No, I’m okay. Thank you!” You tried your best to sound upbeat while a horrid feeling settled in your stomach.

James seemed to feel just as awkward as you did; keeping his eyes dutifully on you whilst trying to appear that he wasn’t. His leg bounced anxiously underneath him as he leaned onto the arm of the grandfather chair he sat in – across the room from you.

It may as well have been an ocean worth of distance with the way it left you feeling.

Sirius returned to the living room a few moments later and made himself comfortable on the other end of the couch from you, kicking his feet up onto the coffee table after placing a glass of water directly on the coffee table. You wanted to chide him, knowing Remus would have him by the bollocks if he saw, but you didn’t know if it was your place anymore.

Sirius asked you how your day at work was and you offered him a vague “oh it was alright. Long. How about yours?” which started him on a long tangent about some of his more colourful customers today and how tiresome he found people in general. He and James shared some quips and anecdotes about worst moments in their various retail experiences, and you thought about how much you were going to miss this.

“Okay, what is going on?” Sirius snapped abruptly, causing your head to shoot up so quickly that you heard it crack.

“Huh?” You asked sheepishly.

Sirius’ brows furrowed as he stole a glance at James before turning back to you. “You’re being weird...what’s going on with you?”

But you didn’t get a chance to answer when the sound of the front door alerted everyone to Remus’ arrival. You hated that you visibly tensed at the sound of him moving down the hall.

“Hey bubs. Is she here?” You heard him ask James, since you and Sirius couldn’t yet see him nor he you from his position in the hall way.

You felt your face scrunch up miserably and quickly brought your hands up to shield your face, choking out a silent sob.

“Yeah.” James responded, though his voice was but a whisper as Sirius added a “whoa” at the same time.

“What did you guys do?” Remus cooed and made his way towards you having spotted your distress.

“I’m sorry.” You muttered miserably, both for whatever you’d done to cause this conflict between the four of you and also for your embarrassing display of emotions.

“What are you sorry for, dovey?” Remus asked softly as he knelt in front of you, gently taking your wrists and coaxing them away from your face.

“For upsetting you all.”

Remus’ brows furrowed beyond their worried state and into a more confused state as he turned to look at the other two boys in bemusement.

“Well, I don’t think any of us are happy that you’re so upset, love, but we’re not upset. You don’t have to apologize.” He pressed.

“I don’t think that’s what this is.” James input from his place across the room.

“I’m sorry. I’m not quite sure why you’re mad at me, but I’d like to talk about it with you and I promise not to do it again.” You cried, sounding disturbingly and embarrassingly close to begging.

“Mad at you? Is that why you’ve been such a weirdo tonight? You thought we were mad at you?” Sirius asked incredulously.

“Don’t call her a weirdo, Pads!” James chided, standing from his chair.

“Why’d you think everyone was mad at you, dove?” Remus asked, ignoring the squawking of his boyfriends behind him as he forced you to hold eye contact with him.

“I... I don’t know, I guess things just felt kind of off this week and then...I don’t know.” You admitted dumbly. “And then I got here and, it just felt weird.”

“I’m sorry, angel.” James apologized, suddenly beside you having taken to sitting directly on top of (a very petulant) Sirius. “You seemed distressed and... I got nervous. Usually, Rem is the better one at handling these things, I wanted to wait until he got here to broach the subject. Sirius, though, has the tact of a bull.”

“So, you were just going to let all of us sit here awkwardly until Remus got here to save the day, huh? Not on my fucking watch.” Sirius groaned as he positioned himself to kick James not only off of him, but off the couch completely. This caused Sirius’ glass of water to topple off the coffee table and onto the rug below it.

“Nice going, Prongs,” Sirius spat victoriously from his place on the couch, “look at the mess you’ve made.”

“It wasn’t even my cup!” James defended.

“Don’t think I didn’t notice that wasn’t on a fuckin' coaster, Sirius.” Remus reproached darkly, tossing the dark-haired boy a glare over his shoulder.

Sirius just smirked and then winked at you. “There you go, dollface, now everyone’s mad at me instead.”

“Awe, Pads!” James cooed from the ground before launching himself back onto Sirius. “Look at you, taking the heat off our pretty girl.”

Remus shook his head in exhaustion, but you could see a fond smile ghosting his lips from his place before you.

“Trust me, dove. You’re the least of our problems.”

You chuckled wetly and wiped the tears (and more embarrassingly, the snot) from your face. “I’m sorry. I feel rather silly now.”

Sirius, having given up on his instance to be the little spoon between he and James, looked around James’ broad frame in his lap to face you. “How about this; if we’re ever upset with you, we promise to tell you. If we haven’t said anything; it’s safe to assume we’re not mad. Okay?”

You nodded in agreement.

“And...” James continued. “Next time you find yourself feeling like this, maybe you can tell us, too?”

You nodded emphatically. “Yes, I promise. I’m sorry.”

Remus kissed the backs of both of your hands and stood from his knelt position in front of you.

“No more sorry’s, dove. We’re all good.”

James stood from Sirius’ lap to place a warm kiss to the space between your cheek and ear and whispered another apology for your being upset.

“Hey, Moons?” Sirius called.

“Yeah?”

“Are you heading to the kitchen?” He called with the sort of smirk that caused you and James to exchange a suspicious look.

“Yeah.”

“Can you grab me a glass of water, please?”

“Fuckin’ hell Sirius get off your arse. And use a sodding coaster.” Remus bellowed from the bedroom.

“See? You’re the least of our problems.” James repeated, stamping another kiss to your cheek.

1K notes · View notes

dcxdpdabbles · 1 month

Note

Could you write something where Danny is a teen dad to de aged Ellie? Bonus points if he lives in Crimr Alley and beats the Joker to a pulp for hurting his kid

Danny is trying his best.

It's not easy being a father at age sixteen. It's not easy having to leave his home in fear of what his parents will do to his clone-turned-daughter.

It's not easy watching her every day, wondering if her core will break down further, and instead of just de-aging this time, she'll end up dead. It's not easy worrying about her health in the most crime-infested city with a terrible job and relying on his pitiful check or the funds his sister can sneak to him.

But nothing good in this world is easy, and he wouldn't trade Dani for anything. Yes, she had lost her memories and acted like a real two-year-old, but he adored watching her eyes light up as she relearned the world.

Danny loved her to bits, and even buying her those cheap coloring books and crayons from the dollar store made Dani smile brighter than any star. They may struggle to pay rent and bills or buy food, but Danny can always scrape by, keeping her warm, fed, and house.

He worked at three different dinners, each part-time, since none of them were legally allowed to hire him full-time because of his age. Danny didn't have a single day off, but he had a few hours every day with Dani, which was enough.

While he worked, he asked his next-door neighbor to watch Dani. Now, it may not be the best thing to trust a stranger with his daughter but said neighbor is a ghost and one of the friendly kind.

Danny met her when he first moved in. Apparently, her haunting was one of the reasons the rent was so cheap. She never gave him her real name, but she stayed with Dani all day and had enough ectoplasm to physically touch things. Danny could sense her intentions with his core and knew her motherly adoration for Dani was authentic.

Privately, Danny called her Three since she haunted apartment three, and she sort of looked like she stepped out of the nineteen-thirties, complete with an attractive Transatlantic accent. She was an up-and-coming radio co-host, taking a segment to read stories to housewives before being murdered in her home.

Three never said why or how it happened, but she had been haunting the apparent complex for so long; her lore was well documented among the locals.

They say one of the Waynes had killed her after learning that his wife had fancied Three. But it was never proven and it became another theory that the rich would laugh at every once in a while.

(Three's face always twisted whenever she heard the name Wayne. Her hand would always reach up for a heart-shaped locket she refused to take off even in death.)

Since most people couldn't see ghosts unless exposed to ectoplasm for enough time, the stories of her attacks on anyone trying to get close to her apartment snowballed out of control. Danny thought it was unfair how evil they made her sound. Though it's true she had a strong distaste for men, she had a soft spot for children.

Danny had just been through the wringer; he had double shifts, one stacked right after the other. One of the dinners had let two people go after they had been arrested for moving illegal substances, and Danny had to cover until they found a replacement.

A woman had yelled at him for almost thirty minutes straight about a wait time for her surprise party of fifteen. A man threw up on their counter, and to top it all off, a kid had run into him while he was carrying a tray of food, causing him to spill everything.

Thankfully, the mother was horrified and apologized profoundly, but it had been almost too much for him. So when he was sweeping up broken plates and saw Three franticly flying at him screaming about some clown, well, Danny was doing his best.

And his best was fighting things far stronger than he.

____________________________________________________________

Jim Gordon's early afternoon gets interrupted by the Joker only three minutes after he is supposed to head home for the day. After escaping from Arkham a few months ago, the clown went to the ground, and everyone was nervous about what he was planning.

Jim's team hadn't heard any whispers or had any idea what the Joker was up to, which made everything worse. Usually, when something big and wrong was going to happen, they would catch at least one thing beforehand.

That's why the sudden broadcast of the lunatic had everyone jumping out of their skins.

"Good evening, Gotham. I want to welcome you to tonight's show. It's going to be killer." Joker cackles. He has somehow hacked into almost every screen in the city, his white devilish face appearing on TVs, phones, tablets, and even roadside advertising.

His voice echoes through the city as Jim barks at his employees to trace the signal.

"Recently, I felt it necessary to remind everyone that one is never too young to have a funny bone." The Joker continues, holding up a plush toy to the camera. He waves it a little, pressing the ginning bunny as close as possible so people can see its mouth has been sewed into a sickly wide smile. "I'm sure a few of you have noticed that certain school buses never arrived home."

The blood in his veins goes cold. How many buses? Which school? What kids were they? How old? Why had they not heard of the kids not arriving until now?

There are too many questions and nowhere near enough answers. Jim hates how useless he feels playing this sick man's game.

"But not to worry! You'll see your little ones again! After being guests on my very own game show! Every thirty minutes, one lucky child will get to compete for your amusement, and if they survive, they get an extraordinary prize-!"

His words are cut short by a dark figure flinging itself at the Joker and punching him to the ground. Thank every dark cloud in the sky that the Bat was on the case.

"Basty! Have you come to play- wait. You aren't Batsy." Joker's delighted tone melts into anger as the figure straightens to a young teenage boy.

"You have my daughter. Give her back." The teen tells the clown, voice flat and cold. "Three said your goons took her from her balcony."

"My boys take a lot of people." Joker laughs hoping up a flower. With a press of his finger, the teenager is covered in Joker Vemon. Jim's heart falls as the boy stumbles back, rubbing at his eyes. Joker laughs harder until the kid picks up a chair and slams it onto his head.

There wasn't even a chuckle from the boy. Huh.

"You have my daughter. Give. Her. Back."

"Or what?" The Joker taunts, snapping his fingers. There are sounds of people moving, likely the goons. "Kill him."

The boy doesn't seem to react to the men rushing at him. Someone knocks the camera stand over, and the view of the fight is taken away as it rolls on the ground. Thankfully, it ends up pointed at a wall, where they watch the shadows of the teenager and the Joker's goons fight.

It's hard to tell who's winning, with all the shadows blending together whenever they get close, but the fact that he hasn't heard the kid drop yet means he's holding his own. Jim's eyes narrow at the wallpaper, trying to figure out why it looks so familiar.

It hits him just as a little girl phases through the wall. Yes, phases, as if walking through it like a ghost. This would make sense since -

"That's Nightowl Apparemtents!" Ricky, the new cop from Crime Alley, cries, echoing Jim's thoughts.

"It's what?" Asks Sara

"Nightowl apparements. It's the oldest place in Crime Alley and one of the most haunted. They said a lover of a Wayne was killed there. She kills anyone who tries to rent the place. They do ghost tours occasionally, but no one dares to her hallway. That wallpaper is famous because it's the only one in Gotham with the original founding families' symbols." Ricky explains, watching the little girl tilt her head and then start to flout. Everyone shivers as a second figure bleeds out of the wall behind her.

This one is much more blurry, but the faith outline of a beautiful woman covered in blood hovers behind the girl staring at the fight. She's dressed in clothes that Jim is sure was decades ago, and unlike the little girl, she makes him feel very unsafe.

The ghost of Apparement three. Barbara had gone through a paranormal phase when she was fifteen and dragged Jim to all the haunted places in Gotham. Nowhere had made him feel as uneased as Gotham's cemetery- the most haunted place- but those apartments were a close second.

The ghost spots the camera, sneering at it and Jim actually jumps back.

"Oh, gods!" Ricky shouts, turning his head away. "I'm so sorry for looking into your eyes without permission!"

"It's not a telephone! It can't hear you, Ricky!"

"That's not the point, Sara!"

"Daddy!" the little girl cries, holding up her finger. "I got an ow-ow."

At once, the sounds of combat stopped, and then the screams began. It's nothing like Jim has ever heard. He's been on the force long enough to know what a human in pain sounds like, and those sounds—well, he prays that the Joker had decided to bring in animals.

If it makes him sick to his stomach he is worried about the regular people watching.

The little girl doesn't look away, tilting her head to the side like a curious child of two would and still holding her tiny up. After a moment, Jim realizes the screaming has stopped. There is silence before Joker falls beside the girl, beaten beyond recognition.

If it weren't for his purple sit, Jim would have thought him a goon.

The little girl doesn't blink an eye as the teenager rushes to her, kicking the Joker.

"Let me the ow-ow." The teenager demands, taking her hand in his. There is a moment of tense silence as the woman's ghost louts around him with a sneer. "A papercut! You gave my daughter a papercut!"

The ghost woman screeches, rage in every part of her cry. Jim feels his heart beating out of his chest, frozen in absolute terror as she reaches down for the Joker and drags him through the floor.

The man's screams are heard even through the muffled flooring.

"Holy shit," Sara breathes, voice trembling.

"This is why no one with a brain messes with Nightowl's ghost," Ricky hisses, rubbing at his cross. "How that kid go it to attack the Joker and not him and his daughter-"

The teenager gathers the toddler into his arms, his image fading with a hiss.

"-That was a ghost. The teenager that beat the Joker to near death was a ghost." Ricky swallows. "I am never stepping foot down that street again."

Somewhere in Gotham, a woman is sweating bullets after the feed is cut by Batman, who arrives with the rest of the Bats minutes afterward.

"Say, Mom, wasn't that the boy you were yelling at today in Teddy's Diner for Uncle Ron's birthday."

The woman's eyes swing back to the TV, where the waiter's face is frozen on the screen, his green glowing eyes almost staring into her soul. "Yes.....yes it was."

"Oh crud. I think we're cursed now, Mom. Way to go."

#dcxdpdabbles #dcxdp crossover #Teen parent Danny #De-age Dani #Nightowl Apartment #Three was a Wayne lover but it was a throuple #The Waynes enemies killed her #Danny chilled her murderous rage out with his powers #Gotham is scared of ghosts now #The random Karen thinks the paranormal is coming for her and her kin #Part 1

992 notes · View notes