#but every time i see this scene i cannot stop thinking about it | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

sttoru · 22 days

Note

sukunas fav concubine being bullied by the other concubines?? maybe they push her into the fountain 👀👀👀

·.⌇ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒. being bullied because you’re sukuna’s favorite concubine is nothing out of the ordinary. when sukuna finally notices the harassment you’re going through, he doesn’t hold back.

wc. 2.2k-ish

tags. true form!sukuna x concubine! female reader. fluff, angst (hurt to comfort). heian era. bullying. one mention of d.ecapitation. vile language. reader gets called ‘brat’. beta reading? what’s that

“she’s got nothing going on for her,” “right? i don’t get what he sees in her,” “tch—he’s only using her for her body anyway,” “duhh. he can’t be pleased by her looks. i mean, she’s really ugly. i bet he thinks of her as just ‘nother hole to use. . .”

and the shushed gossips continue. the concubines hanging around the garden have noticed your arrival, though do nothing to stop badmouthing you. they couldn’t care less if you hear what they say.

you’re used to it by now. you’ve adjusted to this life of yours as one of sukuna’s concubines. his favourite at that—which automatically makes you a victim of verbal (and sometimes physical) harassment. the other women in the ruthless sorcerer’s harem can’t stand you.

your eyes are glued to the path you’re walking on. your lady-in-waiting doesn’t utter a single word as well, holding her head low as she follows behind you. you know that the concubines will immediately pick on you if you make eye contact with one of them.

it’s moments like these where you actually miss sukuna. his intimidating presence and (in)direct threats would immediately make the others fall silent. you wouldn’t have to hear them call you nasty names.

though, unlucky you, sukuna’s out on business. uraume is left as a temporary supervisor of the entire estate. to make sure nothing goes wrong. despite all of that, you still find yourself in an unfortunate predicament.

“hey. we’re talking to you,” a female voice rings from behind you. it isn’t your lady-in-waiting, but the brown-haired woman whom you recognise as one of sukuna’s concubines. her name. . . you can’t recall.

she forcefully pushes your shoulder with two fingers. you stumble backwards, nearly tripping over the material of your kimono. you look down at the hem and notice a subtle muddy stain on the cloth now that you’ve accidentally stepped on it.

you curse the woman out under your breath. the kimono is one of your favorites since sukuna had it made and tailored to suit your taste.

“my apologies,” you mumble politely. you do not wish to make a scene as much as you want to defend yourself. not in front of those poor servants who are simply minding their business and tending to the garden.

the lady scoffs. another one joins. soon, four of them surround you, leaving you no place to escape the situation. with every step you take back, they take one forward. it’s intimidating, though you try to make it seem like you’re not afraid of their words.

“tell me,” the blonde one speaks up and her hand trails up your arm. she twirls a strand of your hair around her index finger before harshly tugging at it. you wince, but she doesn’t budge, “tell me what sukuna sees in a worthless slut like you.”

it’s about sukuna every time. you’re getting sick of the way they treat you because of something you can’t control. you don’t know why he favors you out of all the other women at his service. the way you’re treated because of something that you cannot change is getting frustrating.

the brown-haired woman follows the other lady. she pushes you until the back of your shoe bumps against the edge of a fountain. the grande fountain in the yard that you always love to admire.

the tugs at your hair get stronger. your patience is wearing thin. you take some time to reply to the other concubines, hoping to silence them for now.

you look up at the group surrounding you—a grin tugging at your lips as you decide to taunt them. you scoff, “hah. you cannot blame me for satisfying my lord better than all of you could do together.”

audible gasps sound from the group of concubines. they can’t believe you had the audacity to talk back and be disrespectful about it. the comment you made clearly struck a nerve. or in this case multiple.

“oh, you slut!” the blonde one shrieks, clearly more than upset by your doubts about her services as a concubine. in a flash of rage, she gives you a firm push, sending you backwards until you fall into the fountain with a loud splash.

your lady-in-waiting is the one gasping this time. she looks at you with great worry in her eyes, not knowing if she needs to go fetch uraume or not. she doesn’t have much say in the matter either way.

you’re humiliated by this. you can feel the water seep into the robes of your kimono, staining the beloved material. your hair is wet as well, the water droplets falling off the ends of your locks.

“pah, you look pathetic,” one of the lower ranking concubines chimes in—giggling at the unfortunate situation you got yourself in. the others follow with their own high pitched laughs, “serves you right.”

you don’t even know what you should do. your body feels heavy because of the water wetting your clothes. your nails drag along the fountain’s surface, trying to compose yourself before you do anything irrational.

you grit your teeth and take a deep breath. you’re shaking, both because of the cold settling over your body as well as the anger simmering inside of you. you open your mouth to say something, only to be interrupted.

by someone you didn’t expect to see any time soon.

“enough.”

the deep tone sends chills down your spine. the volume of the male voice nearly shakes the ground. it’s powerful, dominant and quite aggressive. as if the owner of the voice is pissed. no, more than that.

the group of concubines freeze, not even daring to turn around and face the unexpected visitor. you notice your lady-in-waiting immediately falling to her knees, bowing at the man whom you know very well.

“my lord,” you stammer out, being the first to speak up and address him. you’re surprised to see sukuna back this early from his business trip. he normally stays away from the estate for days on end.

sukuna’s footsteps are heavy. his strides are menacingly slow. the aura surrounding him makes the others shake—one concubine being smart enough to bow to him. the king of curses is not one to be messed with, especially when he’s angry.

“tsk. have you lost all your respect while i was gone?” sukuna growls, seeing how the group of concubines are frozen in place with fearful expressions on their faces. the fact that they’re not bowing before him worsens his temper, “kneel.”

he raises one hand and they all knew what was going to happen. you squeal and shut your eyes, hearing that familiar and dooming sound of slashes around you. it doesn’t sound like they’ve hit anything, so you peek through your eyelashes.

you see how the group of women have dropped to their knees the instant sukuna raised his hand in that specific manner. everyone knew just what that meant; death to anyone who’s got their head held high in his presence.

you’ve all seen enough people get decapitated by that same action to know that the sorcerer was not playing around.

sukuna scoffs. he walks up towards you, ignoring the pleas of the other concubines that are begging for his forgiveness. his bottom set of eyes look down at them with disdain before focusing on your figure again.

he silently stands still at the edge of the fountain. his large frame looms over you and you find yourself struggling to get up from the water to bow at him as well. you keep your eyes on your lap, “i’m sorry, my lord.”

sukuna hisses at your apology. a warning for you to shut your mouth. you’re apologising when it’s not your fault and that irritates him more than anything. two of his strong arms reach down to pick you up from your vulnerable position.

the king of curses hoists you over his shoulder like you weigh nothing. he’s not bothered by the fact that you’re dripping wet. in fact, both of his left arms wrap around your torso in attempt to warm you up.

“stay. you’ll all be dealt with accordingly when i return,” sukuna harshly orders your aggressors as he turns around and walks away from the group. he carries you in his arms, not sparing a single glance at his concubines.

he doesn’t even care that he stepped on one of the women’s hands as he passed by. the high pitched shriek only serves to annoy him, which you notice by the way he squeezes your waist in response.

it’s silent between you two for a bit. sukuna steps inside of the estate, his ominous aura making you hesistant to speak. you decide to stay quiet for the sake of keeping the peace. for now.

sukuna’s breathing is a little heavy. he’s trying not to lash out or say anything hurtful. he doesn’t like raising his voice at you—but sometimes he feels like he needs to. especially when you land in situations like those.

“how long has this been going on?” sukuna asks through a heavy sigh. his red eyes are focused on the end of the hallway, where his chambers lay. the veins in his neck look like they could pop out any second now, “and don’t you dare fuckin’ lie to me, y’hear?”

you gulp. you’ve never been so nervous to answer him, ever. you attempt to respond, “uhm, for quite a while, my lord.”

sukuna breathes in sharply at the revelation. the fact that you did not specify your answer only made him think that it’s worse than you’re making it out to be. he stops in his tracks, two hands on your waist as he forces you to face him.

your body dangles in the air as sukuna makes you look at him from up close, showing you that dangerous look in his eyes. you do not dare to avert your gaze from his as he speaks.

“you should’ve told me the moment they started disrespecting you like that,” sukuna grunts. another big hand grabs your jaw firmly, squeezing your cheeks together. you whine as it hurt a little. he scoffs and releases your jaw with a light push, “pathetic.”

you feel your body get thrown into your original position once more. your head is upside down and your legs hang limply over his shoulder. you try to defend yourself in a quiet tone, “i thought you were too busy. i didn’t want to bother you with such unimportant matters.”

it’s true. as much as you wanted to tell sukuna about the mistreatment you were receiving, you knew how busy he was attending to more urgent business. you didn’t want to annoy him with your own problems that you could easily solve.

if only you could stand up for yourself.

“nonsense,” sukuna raises his voice in a moment of weakness, though remembers that you’ve probably been through enough for the day. he doesn’t need to add to that by treating you like shit as well.

he simply sighs it off, “unimportant, huh? ‘s that how you think i view you?”

you raise an eyebrow at sukuna’s last sentence. you’re at a loss for words. you know sukuna values you more than any of his other concubines—it’s the main reason you’re getting bullied for—yet you never heard him speak to you in such a surprisingly soft way.

almost like he’s disappointed that you don’t realise the extent of his favoritsm. he cares about you more than you actually think he does.

“i-i’m sorry, my lord,” you stutter. you really do not have a clue about what to say. all you can do is apologise as you’re left overthinking that one little sentence he said.

“what a brat,” sukuna quickly regains his usual stoic and stern composure. he reaches his chambers and enters his personal bathroom before putting you down on your feet. he looks down at your short stature, feeling the warmth of your body leave his skin once you’re separated.

sukuna watches you shiver. he wants to get angry at you for not telling him about anything that’s been going on while he’s not present, though he simply cannot at the moment.

he’ll let you off the hook for now. but, he’s surely going to give you your own special scolding after he’s taken care of the other concubines. the man grabs a large towel from nearby and messily wraps it around your upper body.

sukuna turns around to walk out of his bathroom, looking over his shoulder once more, “get dressed into something else before you catch a cold.”

he calls for a couple servants to tend to you while he’s away to take care of those deviant concubines. sukuna watches the three maids rush to your service, preparing you a new set of clothes as well as trying to dry you off.

his gaze lingers on you for more than is necessary, his jaw clenching at the sight of you trembling from the low temperatures you’re experiencing. sukuna’s going to make sure those other women pay for what they’ve done to you.

he leaves the bathroom after that, though not without leaving you an order to follow;

“you’re staying in my chambers tonight.”

#sttoru writes.#jjk x reader #sukuna x reader #jjk x you #sukuna x you #jjk x y/n #sukuna x y/n #jjk fluff #jjk angst #sukuna fluff #sukuna angst

12K notes · View notes

burntoutdaydreamer · 5 months

Text

To Write Better Antagonists, Have Them Embody the Protagonist's Struggles

(Spoilers for The Devil Wears Prada, Avatar the Last Airbender, Kung Fu Panda 2, and The Hunger Games triology).

Writing antagonists and villains can be hard, especially if you don't know how to do so.

I think a lot of writers' first impulse is to start off with a placeholder antagonist, only to find that this character ends up falling flat. They finish their story only for readers to find the antagonist is not scary or threatening at all.

Often the default reaction to this is to focus on making the antagonist meaner, badder, or scarier in whatever way they can- or alternatively they introduce a Tragic Backstory to make them seem broken and sympathetic. Often, this ends up having the exact opposite effect. Instead of a compelling and genuinely terrifying villain, the writer ends up with a Big Bad Edge Lord who the reader just straight up does not care about, or actively rolls their eyes at (I'm looking at you, Marvel).

What makes an antagonist or villain intimidating is not the sheer power they hold, but the personal or existential threat they pose to the protagonist. Meaning, their strength as a character comes from how they tie into the themes of the story.

To show what I mean, here's four examples of the thematic roles an antagonist can serve:

1. A Dark Reflection of the Protagonist

The Devil Wears Prada

Miranda Priestly is initially presented as a terrible boss- which she is- but as the movie goes on, we get to see her in a new light. We see her as an bonafide expert in her field, and a professional woman who’s incredible at what she does. We even begin to see her personal struggles behind the scenes, where it’s clear her success has come at a huge personal cost. Her marriages fall apart, she spends every waking moment working, and because she’s a woman in the corporate world, people are constantly trying to tear her down.

The climax of the movie, and the moment that leaves the viewer most disturbed, does not feature Miranda abusing Andy worse than ever before, but praising her. Specifically, she praises her by saying “I see a great deal of myself in you.” Here, we realize that, like Miranda, Andy has put her job and her career before everything else that she cares about, and has been slowly sacrificing everything about herself just to keep it. While Andy's actions are still a far cry from Miranda's sadistic and abusive managerial style, it's similar enough to recognize that if she continues down her path, she will likely end up turning into Miranda.

In the movie's resolution, Andy does not defeat Miranda by impressing her or proving her wrong (she already did that around the half way mark). Instead, she rejects the values and ideals that her toxic workplace has been forcing on her, and chooses to leave it all behind.

2. An Obstacle to the Protagonist's Ideals

Avatar: The Last Airbender

Fire Lord Ozai is a Big Bad Baddie without much depth or redemptive qualities. Normally this makes for a bad antagonist (and it's probably the reason Ozai has very little screen time compared to his children), but in Avatar: The Last Airbender, it works.

Why?

Because his very existence is a threat to Aang's values of nonviolence and forgiveness.

Fire Lord Ozai cannot be reasoned with. He plans to conquer and burn down the world, and for most of the story, it seems that the only way to stop him is to kill him, which goes against everything Aang stands for. Whether or not Aang could beat the Fire Lord was never really in question, at least for any adults watching the show. The real tension of the final season came from whether Aang could defeat the Fire Lord without sacrificing the ideals he inherited from the nomads; i.e. whether he could fulfill the role of the Avatar while remaining true to himself and his culture.

In the end, he manages to find a way: he defeats the Fire Lord not by killing him, but by stripping him of his powers.

3. A Symbol of the Protagonist's Inner Struggle

Kung Fu Panda 2

Kung Fu Panda 2 is about Po's quest for inner peace, and the villain, Lord Shen, symbolizes everything that's standing in his way.

Po and Lord Shen have very different stories that share one thing in common: they both cannot let go of the past. Lord Shen is obsessed with proving his parents wrong and getting vengeance by conquering all of China. Po is struggling to come to terms with the fact that he is adopted and is desperate to figure out who he is and why he ended up left in a box of radishes as a baby.

Lord Shen symbolizes Po's inner struggle in two main ways: one, he was the source of the tragedy that separated him from his parents, and two, he reinforces Po's negative assumptions about himself. When Po realizes that Lord Shen knows about his past and confronts him, Lord Shen immediately tells Po exactly what he's afraid of hearing: that his parents abandoned him because they didn't love him. Po and the Furious Five struggle to beat Shen not because he's powerful, but because Po can't let go of the past, and this causes him to repeatedly freeze up in battle, which Shen uses to his advantage.

Po overcomes Shen when he does the one thing Shen is incapable of: he lets go of the past and finds inner peace. Po comes to terms with his tragic past and recognizes that it does not define him, while Shen holds on to his obsession of defying his fate, which ultimately leads to his downfall.

4. A Representative of a Harsh Reality or a Bigger System

The Hunger Games

We don't really see President Snow do all that much on his own. Most of the direct conflict that Katniss faces is not against him, but against his underlings and the larger Capitol government. The few interactions we see between her and President Snow are mainly the two of them talking, and this is where we see the kind of threat he poses.

President Snow never lies to Katniss, not even once, and this is the true genius behind his character. He doesn't have to lie to or deceive Katniss, because the truth is enough to keep her complicit.

Katniss knows that fighting Snow and the Capital will lead to total war and destruction- the kind where there are survivors, but no winners. Snow tells her to imagine thousands upon thousands of her people dead, and that's exactly what happens. The entirety of District 12 gets bombed to ashes, Peeta gets brainwashed and turned into a human weapon, and her sister Prim, the very person she set out to protect at the beginning of the story, dies just before the Capitol's surrender. The districts won, but at a devastating cost.

Even after President Snow is captured and put up for execution, he continues to hurt Katniss by telling her the truth. He tells her that the bombs that killed her sister Prim were not sent by him, but by the people on her side. He brings to her attention that the rebellion she's been fighting for might just implement a regime just as oppressive and brutal as the one they overthrew and he's right.

In the end, Katniss is not the one to kill President Snow. She passes up her one chance to kill him to take down President Coin instead.

3K notes · View notes

lundenloves · 11 months

Text

fatherhood II

*Standing on a soap box, pointing at every one of you.* I will not be responsible for the tears passed in this piece of written emotional catastrophe. It simply had to be done. Simon meeting his daughter for the first time. It's canon. Leave me alone! *Runs away*

↳ no warnings | f!reader | 1.2k

part one | dad!simon masterlist

i may as well be running from lions at this rate, i cannot believe this. yes i can. no one talk to me or ask me the colour of anything for at least twelve days. sigh.

Having a baby sleeping on his chest was not on Simon Riley’s bingo cards for this year. His own baby at that.

Ironically, it was like learning to walk all over again. Having a little person who was completely dependent on you was something he couldn’t fathom at all until the time came. And boy, did it come, straight to the deep end he was.

It started when he was stood on the doorstep to his own home, two days late, taking deep breaths and roughing his hair in attempts to alleviate the bubbling anxiety. He was mentally beating himself up for the fucking career he’d chosen, and the hardships that came with time. Time he wouldn’t get back.

“Fuck sake, Simon.” Came a mutter to himself, slapping one hand of motivation to his cheek before reaching to turn the handle. Baby cries were audible from outside, his jaw tightening at the sound. He hadn’t been home in two weeks. Many an argument had passed to get time off although it just simply wasn’t an option. Forcing his wife to give birth alone bar her family. Christ.

He stepped into the house quietly, as if subconsciously on a fucking stakeout. A shaky sigh came when he’d leant against the wall, dropping his bag and shutting the door behind him.

It was a lot and he hadn’t even met her yet.

His daughter.

A rush of guilt panged in his chest and forced the steps he took toward the living-room. His broad shoulders filled the doorframe, in complete contrast to the tiny baby who lay in your arms.

His cold heart attempted to ignite a spark at the sight, kickstarting a warmth that didn’t quite come. Not until you had caught sight of him and instantaneously teared up. It was like all hell had broken loose in his chest, experiencing emotions he hadn’t felt in years. Still, he couldn’t speak, nor move.

You brought her to him, standing up and pressing your forehead against his chest. “You don’t need to say anything.” He nodded quietly, looking down at the baby in your arms. The inner corners of his eyebrows had raised, jaw tensing and loosening between seconds.

You could practically see the thoughts race through his mind. Good and bad.

“Stop worrying, you’re home now.” His shirt had a central wet patch from your silent tears.

You weren’t going to tell him how it was hell, how awful it was that he wasn’t around, and just how much you cried the night you got home with her. Welcomed by an empty house and darkness.

“Simon.” You said weakly, looking up at him and catching the gloss of his dark eyes. He was just as devastated about the whole thing. “Don’t think about it. It’s over. We have her, she’s safe, I'm safe.”

He nodded slowly, eyes unmoved from the baby below him. “Do you want to hold her?” Your voice came as a whisper, aware of his anxieties.

“I don’t know how.” He cleared his throat, looking back up to you. The hardness in his eyes was still there, although exposed by the sheen of upset that threatened to spill. You’d never seen him cry. Not once in the seven years of being together.

You smiled a little at him, a quivering one at best. “You just have to support her head.” Your arms lifted toward his, lightly adjusting his positions before handing your daughter toward her father.

And fuck, did it hit you then.

Stepping back, you made an effort to mentally photograph the scene in front of you. His eyes cast down to the baby in his arms, holding her as if she could break any second. The large palm of his hand was bigger than her whole body, supporting her with his arm although she barely used a forearm's worth of space. Her little hands raised upward, entirely relaxed in his arms as opposed to the crying he had walked in on.

His energy had entirely calmed her down.

“How do you feel?” You sucked your lips inward, both hands on your head to calm the maddening amount of emotion running through your stomach.

His eyes remained fixed on his daughter, still frozen in the position you had put him in. “I don’t know.” He admitted, voice as deep as ever although it had a strain to it.

You nodded. “That’s okay.”

The two of you shared a silence for a minute or two, just entirely in the moment for your daughter and the small babbles she made every now and then. The only consistent sound was her breathing, only audible for the dead silence in the house.

He shifted, “Are you alright?”

You rubbed your arm, looking up at him to find his eyes already on yours. “Mhm.” It was the truth, although he was evidently searching for a different answer. “Just glad you’re home.”

“Have you slept much?”

“Not really. But that’s okay.” The sweet tone of your voice made his shoulders drop, arms relax and his eyes soften. Well, until the baby began to cry and he tensed up all over again, silently panicking while looking to you. “Relax, Si.”

He screwed his face, letting her small hand curl weakly around his finger in hopes she would stop crying. “She’s fine. You’re fine.” A warm laugh escapes you and a slight smile plays on his lips at the sound. “She’s just tired.”

He pushed his arms toward you, gesturing you take her back. He was tired. You could see it in his eyes, “She’s still crying.”

“I couldn’t hear that.” You quip and he tsks, holding his arms out a little further. “Sit with her, it’ll be easier on your arms.” It was a thing for you, wanting him to have her in his arms as often as he could and not scare himself away.

He gave you a predictably unsure look before moving to the sofa. Each step he took was cautious to not stir her even further, sitting down slowly. You leant against the dining table, looking at him from across the room as he mumbled words you couldn’t hear to the baby in his arms.

When he had relaxed, she too calmed down. The steady breathing of his chest created a rise and fall that drifted her to sleep, small fingers still wrapped around his the best they could.

“Are you alright if I shower?”

He looked up in your direction, a flash of a panic appeared across his features. “What do I do if she wakes up?” His glance directed back down to the unthreatening baby in his arms.

“Just talk to her, like you just did.” You walked over, leaning down over the back of the sofa to press a kiss to his cheek. “I know it’s hard, but don’t think about it too much.” Hands placed on his shoulders, massaging into his collarbones.

He hummed in response.

“I’ll be ten minutes.”

Simon only lasted three. Three minutes of staring down at his daughter, alone and full of emotion for her but it wasn’t willing to come out just yet. Fatigue had taken over and by the time you had gotten back, ready to put her down for the night, she was already deep in sleep along with her father.

She was on his chest, arm raised upward to his neck where her tiny fingers touched his skin. His head tilted to the back of the sofa, two hands supporting her while soft snores left him.

Fatherhood.

reblogs and comments are very much appreciated! i’ll sit in a hole if no one pats me on the head every now and then.

taglist? fill out this form.

#simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #simon riley #ghost x reader #ghost x female reader #ghost x f!reader #ghost mw2 #mw2 fanfic #mw2 x reader #call of duty mwii #cod mwii #cod mw2 x reader #cod mw fanfiction #cod mw2 #cod imagine

3K notes · View notes

anantaru · 6 months

Text

DAY 30 — hate sex

kinktober 2023. — masterlist | ao3

𖧡 — including — wriothesley, ayato, scaramouche, alhaitham

𖧡 — warnings — fem! reader, hate fucking, mild choking, they're assholes, exhibitionism, fingering, lots of teasing & they're meanies

𖧡 — WRIOTHESLEY

"i don't, fuck— even know if i told you this," you whine out through a clenched jaw, your trembling frame luxuriating in the feeling of wriothesley's thick cock rubbing against your spongy spots as the spreading warmth of his body fuses inside of your own.

nevertheless, you continue your taunting— truthfully, there was nothing better other than uttering out words that you knew, would drive him absolutely crazy, "but i really fucking hate you."

amusement swiftly settles on the duke's face when he notices something happening in front of his eyes, in spite of himself, he can see it plain as day.

that your sweet, angel face, combined with those lewd sounds and your pain in the ass, as well as bratty attitude, would ultimately make him lose his mind beyond salivation— right now, his face reminded of someone who was on the brink of leaning into this, the thought of stepping your relationship up and breaking free of this, occasional hook up scene between two people clearly harboring distaste for each other.

yet, instead of melting into those hidden emotions, wriothesley then, leaves one hand to fall against the headboard before jerking his hips back into you, this time much harder and in attempt to conceal the fact that you've evidently turned him on with your attitude, fuck, he'd never get tired of hearing you.

"oh, don't worry sweetheart," wriothesley grins, your body trembling when you hear him, and as always, he senses how you shiver under his large weight, your chest rising and falling when he wraps one hand around your throat, lightly, while the other remained on the headboard to steady himself and to not suddenly suffocate you with his figure.

"the feeling is very mutual," he winks, the only thing that seemed appropriate to you personally in this situation, was to punch him, especially due to that stupid, handsome, dumb smirk on his face. (you didn't punch him)

"oh fuck you," you spat angrily before feeling how he softly draws his fingers into your throat, mesmerized when you swallow the assembled saliva down and make him sense your pulse underneath his palm, ugh, it's so hot— and you're impossibly sensitive, constantly fluttering your hole around his girth, always so cutely reactive and moaning when his cock twitches through your walls.

your mess of a body was shaking, quivering and jerking up when he teases you once more, proudly showcasing his strength on your throat while never stopping the aching drags of his erection that was making your face twist in pleasure.

𖧡 — AYATO

ayato thinks you owe him, in fact, he believes you owe him a lot more than you're currently giving him— aside from that, the most unfortunate fact was that he secretly liked having you close to him, pretending that it's a way of paying him back for whatever reason, more so share your sweet company and yes, of course, it's a bit of a predicament taking into consideration that he literally cannot stand your guts and neither can you force yourself to like his.

it's a bit embarrassing and you're barely being able to grasp on how much you you were capable to hate another person, yet the second you hear his voice, it's a horrible sound, one that you eagerly wanted to choke right out of him.

well, if only ayato wouldn't be so adapt with your body— remembering every part of you, didn't matter to him if it's been a week or a month, he remembers and targets the spots he knew had to be taken care of.

because the yashiro commissioner knows how to fuck you, please you and make you sob out uncontrollably— you have clearly had the opportunity to experience it yourself and even now, while pressed down against his work desk, with both legs tightly shut around his waist, you almost forget about all the deep-rooted hatred that was growing inside of your heart.

every dip and curve, his hand would find when he drags his cock through your walls with each whimper of his name littering across his ear shells, his sensitive tip repeatedly pushing in and out of your soaked walls that the constant pressure of penetration was making your head spin, your shaking frame twitching under him as he curves ever so wonderfully into your warm cunt.

it's too good, too delicious to pass up on when you forget all circumstances and focus on the hate induced thrusts of his pelvis rutting against yours— both minds being drunk of lust and that sensual taste of sex and euphoria lingering across the room, your pussy convulsing as his lips melt against your own, shushing all your worries.

𖧡 — SCARAMOUCHE

"look at that," scaramouche grinned down on you, excited from head to toe, his ego downright overflowing when his tip pushes and presses into your warm, pulsing spots as he stares down on where your bodies connected.

his cock was slipping in an embarrassingly easy pace that it's quite shameful now that you think back on it, well, almost— at least scaramouche knew what places to target in order to make your spine curve and quiver when he leans his weight over your body to split your cunt a little better as he bucks backward, driving the intruding force of his length deeper with one hand steady on your shoulder.

you wrap your hands around his neck and pull him into a warm, passionate kiss before he sloppily groans into your mouth, his tongue lapping across your own when repeated thrusts power through the tight ring of your hole, his pelvis continuously kicking against you and forcing your spine to bend into his chest, "hah, i can barely move," he smirks, "you're too tight— embarrassing," he drawls, your walls fluttering as he leans his sweaty forehead over your own.

"seems like you missed me," scaramouche urges, hovering on top of you with a toothy smile, despite that leaning in for more, his fastened breathing close to your flustered cheeks as he grinds his cock deeper, finer and better— a small, little shade of pink manifesting across his face, everything about it was so sensual, so exposed.

without a doubt, whenever you would cross paths it would always end in the same story playing on repeat, almost like a broken record— and despite the fact that you weren't fond of him, or, scrap that, despite the fact that you hated him, a lot, you did like it, like him, kind of— most definitely when he fucks you like he hates you, because he does, but kisses you like you're in possession of the most delicious and softest lips.

or, digging a little deeper, when he, sometimes, wraps his arm around your waist when he accidentally falls asleep right beside you, hiding his fatigued face against your neck, leaning into your touch as he intertwines one hand with yours to stroke his thumb over your knuckles.

𖧡 — ALHAITHAM

it's a hard punch in your gut when alhaitham first stated that he didn't like you, nope, wasn't a fan of yours at all— and the way he phrased it infuriated you the most, it was so arrogant, detached and almost like he wanted you to know and feel bad.

it's not like you were forcing him to like you or anything, but the fact that he thought it was appropriate to tell you out of the blue while disregarding any negative emotions such confession could cause— to say it made you loathe him, detest his being with every vein in your body, was an understatement, truly.

but now, suddenly it's anomalous, like the first bite out of a warm home-made pastry you have never tried before.

then, a sudden wave of pleasure hits you, strong enough that you whimper when he first places both hands on your figure, when you find yourself pressed against a cold wall, a new sensation that was laced in thrill and excitement lusting up from deep inside, aflame and alive through your flesh like liquid fire in your veins.

your bodies were moving while concealed beneath the darkness with the scribe's hand long since stored under your panties and rubbing slow, precise circles on your clit— and the thought of doing something so sinful in the midst of the night, not to mention outside, was almost enough to turn you on entirely, drench his palm with your slick when the boiling heat inside of you changes its shape, manifesting into something exceptional.

"that— that doesn't change anything!" you argue, scowling as you lean your head against his chest, "you're still a snob."

"huh, what?" alhaitham huffs in between a relatively normal breathing, as if he didn't just fuck two fingers into your hole and was the single reason for your legs turning to jelly, wantonly destroying your stability, "i think you don't know what that word means," he mutters before rolling his eyes at you.

archons, you're so annoying, alhaitham could honestly tell you those exact words over and over again until he'd get a headache— and it fucks him up, you do, you never fail to irritate him but also make him intrigued. ugh, it fucks him up so dearly and you destroy his rational thoughts, he wanted to do nothing more other than distance himself from you if only you wouldn't be so damn addicting, and soft, or reactive when he prods one finger against your hole.

awakening at the touch, your desire for him flares anew as you buck your hips forward, driving his finger deeper, his digit spilling right into you when you greet him with a broken cry, your hips rolling and needful for more— alhaitham's eyes never averting their gaze from you, your hips searching and clinging on his body, a slight tremble reaching your spine when you hold your gaze on him, all now feeling in different way.

#genshin impact x reader #genshin smut #genshin impact smut #genshin x reader #wriothesley x reader #wriothesley smut #ayato smut #ayato x reader #scaramouche smut #scaramouche x reader #alhaitham x reader #alhaitham smut #genshin x you #kinktober #genshin impact x you #genshin drabbles

3K notes · View notes

moongreenlight · 2 months

Text

More childhood best friend!Gaz headcanons because I cannot stop thinking about him

He’s your valentine every single year. Started as his dad trying to teach him proper etiquette when he was young and just never stopped. A bouquet of flowers on your stoop and a cheap card he scratches a note into. Never signs his name. Just ends ‘xx.’

He chaperoned your first real date in high school because your dad paid for his tank of gas. The guy you were keen on never called you back after. It took you until you were seventeen to realize that it was probably because Kyle was sitting on the same side of the booth as you and spoon feeding you bites of dinner.

He also ruined your first real relationship when he beat your boyfriend to asking you to formal (a full two months early). You tried to explain that it didn’t mean anything, but he just couldn’t understand. Kyle said it was for the better while you sobbed into his shoulder. “Tosser can’t cope with the fact he’ll always be second place. Better not to waste your time.”

His basic training was 26 weeks away from home. He went immediately after picking up his diploma. It was the most miserable summer of your entire life. Spent primarily waiting by the mailbox for the postman to deliver your daily letters back and forth. He’s started signing off “Garrick. x.”

Both of your families went to his graduation, but his mother insisted you were the one to tap him out. You barely recognized him, like the summer where his family took a month long vacation and he came back a full four inches taller. He’s bigger now, his shoulders permanently rolled back, but he still carries himself with that same cool ease.

He barely stays long enough to say his hello’s to everyone until he takes you back to the car and lays you out in the backseat. Griping the whole way about how “you’d be in a hurry, too. Couldn’t even get away with a wank in the shower.” And “s’your duty to the country. You wanna thank me for my service, don’t you?” You swear the two of you fit easier six months ago, but now he’s cramped between the seats. Caged in tight. His head bumps the window each time he snaps his hips into you.

You seriously considered moving close to base when you found out he was being permanently relocated after joining the task force, but he wouldn’t hear a word about it.

So you settle on sending each other disposable cameras back and forth. You’ve got a picture of him on a mission in Amsterdam framed up in your hall. He’s got a cigarette hanging out of his big, toothy smile, posing like an overexcited tourist in front of a lingerie shop with a display window that made your ears hot when you first saw it.

He called you a few days after his incident with the helo in Urzikstan. Boasted his adventure with only a whispering tremble on the soft underside of his tough facade. Carried on until you wretched dryly into the receiver. Working yourself up into sick with worry even though he promised he was fine, just sticking to the ground for a bit.

Even though you’re seeing him less nowadays, he’s still somehow coming between you and any romantic pursuits you make. You chalk it up to coincidence most of the time, but a blind eye can only be turned so far.

He seems to have a sixth sense for when you’re on a date or a one night stand. Sending texts and pictures that could be misconstrued as flirty to someone who didn’t know the dynamic at just the wrong moment every time. And there was the one time where he sent flowers to your desk at work just a few days after you’d said something about a coworker getting sweet on you.

It happened so often that you eventually decided that the dating scene just wasn’t for you. Resigned to focus on work and friends. Adopting a new mantra of “if it’s meant to be, it’ll be.”

You’ve got no idea why Kyle is so pleased to hear about the conclusion you’ve come to. Or why he’s suddenly coming back home for a few weeks.

#he is rotting my brain from the inside out I need him carnally #moongreenlight #moongreenlightwrites #cod mw2 #call of duty #cod x reader #141 headcanons #drabble #kyle gaz garrick x reader #gaz x reader #kyle gaz smut #gaz smut #gaz mw2 #gaz cod #kyle gaz garrick #gaz call of duty #kyle garrick #kyle gaz garrick smut #cbf!gaz

927 notes · View notes

lacollectionneuse1967 · 5 months

Text

slip of the tongue part 2 - jealous

Theseus Scamander x Reader

“He was all over you,” he hisses. “I am not a possessive man, but I could’ve killed him then and there. He doesn’t know what’s mine.”

summary: after confessing your feelings for (and sleeping with) your boss, theseus, you join his brother newt's team of wizards attempting to thwart the notorious gellert grindelwald. when you're tasked with distracting and seducing a powerful dark wizard on your first mission, theseus gets uncharacteristically and fiercely jealous.

fem!reader. theseus scamander x reader.

category: smut with plot

warnings: 18+ smut, (light) mdom/femsub elements, unprotected penetration, semi-public sex, jealousy/possessive behavior, also the reader suffers brief unwanted sexual advances in a scene

part one / part two

Your dreams are uninventive. Your nightmares are even less so.

Often you are hounded by dogs: drooling, snapping canines, bloodthirsty past the point of cognizance, they’re more open mouths than animals. Or, you’re standing on the hill where your old orphanage used to sit in North London, barefoot on the roof while the rest of London floods below, water rising, you know you’re going to drown. Or some other tired, boring allegory for your past catching up with you, at last, your blessings, your wand, crumbling to ash—you know what the dreams mean and they don’t scare you anymore.

But tonight you are perfectly dreamless. The dream dogs, the wintry world outside, the sound of the wind whistling through the empty London streets, it cannot touch you now. The fireplace is crackling and warm orange light spills in beneath the door from the living room.

Theseus’s arm is draped over your body, your head is on his chest. Every part of your body where your bare skin meets his buzzes with contentment. His room is like a sanctuary, his arms a house that holds you.

You don’t think you’ve slept for even a full hour. It’s still dark outside when you feel Theseus jostling your shoulder.

“Y/N. Wake up, darling.”

You sigh in response and are about to put up a fight, but when you meet his eyes they’re full of sore regret, apologetic. He wouldn’t ask you to leave his bed unless it was important.

You emerge from the covers and start to stretch.

“What time is it?”

“I’m sorry, love, but it’s nearly four in the morning. We have to be going, it’s urgent.”

You turn to look at him, he’s raking a hand through his hair, sitting up in bed.

“Did you sleep at all, Theseus?” You ask incredulously.

“No, too much to think about. And besides, I knew if I slept I wouldn’t be likely to wake. Better you sleep��”

Your heart wrenched. In a swell of affection, you went to him, crawling back over his body on the bed.

“No,” he groans, but his hands come around you, sliding down to your hips, anyway. You kiss his neck, raking your teeth over the skin there.

“Don’t do this to me,” he anguishes. His grip tightens on your hip, it’s meant to be chastising but it makes you want him more. “Please. We need to leave, Y/N.”

It wasn’t easy letting go of him. You know he would’ve given you what you wanted with enough persistence.

“Okay, okay!” You relent, kissing his mouth with a smile. “I’ll stop terrorizing you now.” You leap out of bed again without complaint.

When he stands he’s serious-Theseus again, your boss. And you love him still.

For his sake, you pretend not to notice his erection in his boxer shorts. It looks painfully hard.

“Get dressed,” he says to you before turning to the bathroom. “We need to get to Hogsmeade.”

It was wonderfully strange to see him like this—hair in wavy disarray, looking soft and subdued, barefoot and in his t-shirt. You want to appreciate the sight, you want to talk about what had happened between you and all that had been said. But his mind is elsewhere, preoccupied, and it seems you are both running late.

At your insistence, he lets you apparate to your apartment for a change of clothes, but then the two of you are off, running down the stairs of his building into the dark world below.

—————

Hogsmeade is more of a detour. There is an incognito meet-up organized with none other than Professor Albus Dumbledore. You’d, mercifully, taken a train--the Hogwarts Express. Theseus mentioned that Dumbledore was being watched by the Ministry, and that there were anti-apparition charms put up around the village and the castle.

You were just grateful to see him sleeping, at last, on the way there.

It was barely daylight when the two of you arrived, the sun bleak and pink over the Highlands, providing no warmth. You were grateful for the coffee you'd nursed on the train, as you were grateful to relieve yourself of the confidential documents from the Ministry. Their weight was an invisible one for you, evidence of your betrayal.

"Some aspiring Auror you are," you thought to yourself, bitterly.

“I tried to organize them for you. I started to, actually,” You supplied sheepishly when Dumbledore regarded the haphazard stacks of parchment, laid out on one of the tables in what you assumed was his brother's inn.

Dumbledore smiled warmly at you regardless and thanked you sincerely.

When you step out of the inn, you look to Theseus just as he looks over his shoulder at you. You're both more or less sleepless, and cold, and it seems the both of you have betrayed the Ministry and embarked on a hopeless mission, without many allies in the world.

But you were a united front.

It surprises you when he says, so earnestly that the tension in his shoulders seems to deflate, “God, I missed you. I can’t tell you how much I’ve missed you.”

You blush, but don’t break his gaze. You’re not afraid to let him see you anymore.

“Where to, Mr. Scamander?”

He flexes his jaw like he’s not thinking about the plan at all, like he’s thinking about last night. But then, with a sigh, the moment is broken.

“Germany,” he says. “It’s time you meet my younger brother and the rest of the resistance.”

He says ‘resistance’ like it's some inside joke, some funny jab. You don't understand it until you arrive at the hotel room in Berlin.

-----------

Other than the hair, that uncommon shade of reddish, honey brown, and the apparent kindness and sense of humanity, Newt is nothing like Theseus. In fact, when he comes over to greet you he can hardly meet your eye, his head is half bowed in the other direction, his mouth a nervous, flat line.

"Pleasure to meet you, Y/N. I was sure that you'd do the right thing when Theseus sent you his letter. It was... very brave of you."

You look to Theseus in sharp amusement, eyes sparkling.

"Was there ever a question of whether or not I'd betray you? Did you really think there was a chance I'd turn you over to the authorities?"

Theseus places a reassuring hand on your shoulder.

"Come now, Y/N," he says. "You know if I were to die I'd prefer it to be at your hand anyway."

You want to roll your eyes, but you're not sure to what extent he's joking.

You shake Newt's hand. You're soon after introduced to a muggle baker named Jacob and an astute, somewhat brash Auror from America named Tina. You're not much of a people-person, but you find that you like them both, immensely. They feel genuine, the sort of strong, singular characters that couldn't deceive anyone if they tried. That is why Newt's explanation of your task for the night sends a bolt of dread down your spine.

"We need to need to retrieve a magical object from a German Minister's office. I-I can't say much, it's better you don't know, but it's safe to assume that a large portion of the German Ministry of Magic has already fallen. Helmut, Vogel--and who knows how many others are under the influence of Grindelwald."

"Which German Minister's office?" Theseus says. His hands are in his pockets, he's leaning against the windowsill, the picture of nonchalance, his hair swept back. He's so handsome you could cry.

Newt ignores him. "Now, tonight may be our only chance. There's a diplomatic gala at the ministry itself. I can get us all in, Pickett and I can handle sneaking into the office itself, but there are five people who know about the object being at the ministry, who will be on the lookout and who need to be distracted until we're out."

He doled out assignments swiftly. Theseus was to distract the head of security. Jacob, the two waitstaff who served as the Minister's private informants. For Tina, the German Auror, Helmut. And for you? The Minister himself.

"Which Minister, Newt?" Theseus asks again, the edge in his voice unmistakable, though you don't understand it.

"Baron Dietrich, the Minister of Finance," Newt says at last.

Dietrich. Most of your work for Theseus was domestic, but you try to remember what you can. Dietrich was some Bavarian-born descendent of the aristocracy. Hedonistic, high society. He fought in the war, but gained his reputation in the drinking clubs of Berlin. Even you knew he was ruthless, notorious. A brute of a man without much respect for the law. That was the extent of what you knew.

Newt is rushing to explain before you or Theseus can speak.

“Please, Y/N, Theseus." He looks between the two of you, trying to appeal to both. "Dietrich, h-he likes…he likes beautiful women and he-"

Theseus crosses the room to his brother in a single stride. "Yes, and do you have any idea what he likes to do to those beautiful women, Newt?” He's seething. “Even everyone at the British Ministry knows he brutalizes them."

“I-I wouldn’t ask her if it weren’t absolutely necessary. So long as she’s able to distract him at the party, keep him interested there, at the party, nothing will happen to her—to you!” Newt turns to you now, addressing you directly. “I’m sure of it…”

Theseus sucks his teeth and turns away from his brother, still fuming. “Absolutely not. You will not send her away from my side, that’s final. Not to that man.”

“Theseus, please-"

“She’s muggleborn, Newt! Do you know what men like Baron Dietrich do to wizards like her? If he found out, if any one of Grindelwald's followers did, she'd be killed.” Theseus is speaking with such firm authority, but you know him well enough to detect the barely concealed panic in his eyes, the fracture just beneath the fortress. “Send Tina instead, she’s an Auror.”

“But Y/N is exactly the sort of girl that Dietrich would be-"

“I want to be an Auror too,” your voice sounds strange to your ears when you find it. It has a clear, confident quality, musical and lucid.

Theseus looks to you in shock. You wonder if he knew about the promotion you’d been offered at all, if he knew all you’d sacrificed to stay close to him—your very dreams dashed to pieces. From his expression, naked and open as day, he did not.

“I can do it,” you make an effort to sound settled. Unshaken.

Being a young, vulnerable girl in the streets of East London, at the orphanage after, and then being a woman at the British Ministry as an adult, you’d dealt with plenty of over-friendly and entitled men. Boorish men were everywhere and were not uniquely monstrous. You hoped Baron Dietrich wasn’t either.

"It's settled then," Jacob claps his hands together, seeming relieved that the tension between the two brothers has evaporated. Theseus is slumped over, leaning back on the nightstand in apparent defeat. "We're going to a party!"

Tina places her hand on your arm, leading you towards the closet. She doesn't seem to be terribly affectionate, so you're grateful to her for extending you this small kindness now.

"Here, Y/N," She says. "Let's get you dressed. We have plenty of time to go over the plan. It'll be okay."

------------------

Your outfit, "disguise" you suppose, is nothing like the subdued robes of your companions. You don't know why you're surprised when they ask you to enter the ministry ten minutes after them, alone.

The skirt of your dress is flowy and short, like a dancer's, ending just above your knee, something that might've been acceptable a decade prior, given the fashion trends. It's made of delicate petals of off-white fabric, adorn with tiny silver and pearlescent beads, glittering. Meant to draw attention. It's sleeveless and the top is breathtakingly form-fitting, pinching in your waist and hugging every curve of your body, but you are gratefully afforded an elegant high neckline. Silk, ivory-colored, wrist-length gloves that do nothing for the cold cover your hands and a fur half-coat is draped over your shoulders. Your lipstick is a deep red.

You understand what it means, these luxury items, your styling, the fact that you were instructed to enter alone. By no design of your own, the implication was that you were an escort, a madame of the night. No wonder Newt had Theseus leave the hotel first, before he could catch a glimpse of you. You didn't dare imagine his reaction.

As you enter the gala, handing the doorman your fabricated invitation without a glance, every head turns to you. Chatter stills as you pass, the women gawk and the men look stricken, hungry as the pack dogs in your dreams. Plates and trays sail overhead and the instruments play on, unattended. The German Ministry of Magic has spared no expense.

Patrons lean in close and speak hushed and anxiously. You assume the upcoming election for the highest office of the International Confederation of Wizards is on everyone's mind.

You head for the bar with your head held high, hoping it doesn't show on your face, your discomfort at being so seen. You were told Baron Dietrich would be at the bar with some of his men. With a trembling, gloved hand you motion the barman over and order a drink.

You don’t dare look for your friends. You assume things are going swimmingly for them, but for you? You are drowning in your finery.

You’re not even alone for a moment before the wolves descend. You should've known a man like Dietrich would come find you.

"Mädchen!" He approaches you partially, but expects you to come the rest of the way, waves you over with a meaty hand. When you raise an eyebrow, haughtily, he switches to English.

"Girl, come here." The timber of his voice is low, gravelly. He has a heavy brow, his hair is thick and peppered with gray. The gray does nothing to diminish the impression of his strength. In a fight without your wand, he could have your neck snapped, broken and rolling around its stem, in a heartbeat.

You walk over, leaving your drink at the bar, untouched.

The gala is housed in a mammoth, marble room, twenty foot ceilings held up by smooth columns, something that reminds you of Gringott's. But around the massive bar at the room's center are half-circle booths and tables, spiraling out like lily pads. You slide into Dietrich's booth and his arm goes around you immeditely.

He smells chokingly of cigars, a perfumey, sickly sweet smell. He is a bloated, thick-limbed man. No, you couldn't have fought him off. There are so many uniformed men at his table that some of the younger ones have to stand. With a sting of shock, you don't see how you could be of any influence on these men at all, they hardly see you as a person, aren't speaking to you. You hope Newt and Pickett work quickly.

Another young man, dressed in what looks like a soldier's uniform, slides into the booth after you, sandwiching you in next to Dietrich. You let out of noise of shock and begin to push him off you when Dietrich grabs both your wrists.

"Don't be fussy. This is my young friend, newly recruited. I plan to make him my protégé."

The other men slap the boy over the shoulder, jostling him in congratulations. He smiles meekly. You could hate him for that meekness. That pathetic deference to power.

"We'll share you tonight, of course." Dietrich is looking at the boy, not you. "In my office."

Dietrich's hand clamps over your exposed thigh and his fingernails jab into the fat of your thigh. You don't react to the bright bite of pain. The other boy begins to lean into you, breath hot over your neck.

Whatever small bird lives in your ribs begins to beat itself against that cage, flailing and thrashing.

"No!" You can't help the edge of panic in your voice. Dietrich is too strong, so you don't bother, but you shove the boy off of you and out of the booth without much effort. The boy stumbles out, dumbfounded.

Dietrich snatches your wrist with real fury, bruisingly.

"What?! You're for sale, aren't you?" He won't hurt you in front of his men, not at the gala, but his face is so colored with anger that it's nearly purple.

"Please," there's a real plea in your voice when you say it, you try to cover it up with a hurried smile, you try to look charming. "Dance with me, sir?"

That seems to sedate him. He looks irritated, but pleased by your attention. At least he won't be able to molest you in front of all his colleagues and superiors.

He leads you to the dance floor and the entire way your mind is racing, scrambling for purchase, trying to figure out how you're going to keep him out of his office. He made it clear he had plans to go there later tonight with his men. With you.

And he was an even cruder man than you'd thought, he'd made no attempt to even flirt with or seduce you. His interest in you was moreso entitlement, the same interest a predator has for a slab of meat.

Your wand, concealed on your person, gave you little comfort. Newt had asked that you did not reveal yourself, didn't make a scene. But if it came down to it, you would fight Dietrich rather than submit to him. He was more than repulsive. He wanted to hurt you.

"Please," you think to yourself. "Please, God, don't make me-"

You startle at the large hand that grips your waist and spins you away, just before you reach the dance floor.

Dietrich, abandoned, turns in flustered outrage and is swallowed by the crowd. You're being whisked away before he can fully react, Theseus guiding you deftly out of the overfull room of diplomats.

You sob with relief. "Theseus-" you start, but he's leading you deeper, still, away from the gala.

It's not until you're in some pitch-dark, gaping mausoleum of a hallway that Theseus finally stops, pressing you delicately against the wall, holding your face in his hands like water, like something precious. He examines your body.

"Are you okay?" He asks, pressingly.

You could cry out in joy, the sight of his face is balm-like, giving you a familiar relief.

"Yes, yes!" You reassure him. "Is it done? Did we do it?"

Theseus nods in confirmation, still looking over you for injuries, turning over your wrists in his hands.

"The others are already out. It was quick. No one noticed a thing, we probably took too many precautions this time around..." He finally meets your eyes. The look in his is dark and indecipherable. When he swallows, it's raggedly. "You're really okay, Y/N?"

"Yes," you answer, hesitant at the intensity of his look. "Why?"

Theseus presses his body against yours harshly, you don't even have time to moan before he's swallowing it with his mouth. Your hands are all over him, but he gives you no room to move, it's as if he doesn't notice, the way he's pushing you up against the wall, kissing you like he wants to consume you.

"You're so damn beautiful," he mutters. "When you walked in I almost blew my cover just to go to you."

"Theseus," you pant. You're needy, you want him to keep kissing you but he's leaning his neck back, pinning you against the wall but holding himself away so he can look at you when he runs his warm hands from the backs of your thighs up to your ass. He hooks his fingers around the waistline of your panties and pulls them down so they're only hanging onto you by one of your ankles.

He leans in for another kiss, just as deep and wretched as the last, just as maddening.

He pulls away again with a pant.

"Your dress is too damn short," he curses under his breath.

"Are you angry at me?" You ask quietly, still writhing against him, desperate for friction, but suddenly self-conscious.

"No, no sweetheart," he soothes. "Not at you. You did so good. Such a good job." His praise has you leaning into his palm, which is cupping the side of your face.

You whimper, "I want you." You realize it's true as you're saying it. You can't ever lie to him. "I want you," you repeat, more insistently.

“He was all over you,” he hisses against your ear. “I am not a possessive man, but I could’ve killed him then and there. He doesn’t know what’s mine.” He punctuates the last word with a squeeze to your backside.

"Theseus," you breathe out, helplessly. You can't believe this is happening. The wing of the German Ministry that you're in is completely dark, you can barely make out the tapestries and curtains hanging loose from the walls. But there's distant light at the end of the hall, and dim voices and music filter in and out from the gala a few rooms over.

But you want him to keep touching you more than you know better, know you should stop. More than anything.

He starts to hike your dress up, his movements urgent, when he stops abruptly. The spot where Dietrich's nails dug into your upper thigh is small, but he drew blood.

Theseus pauses, loosens his grip and lets you slide down the wall. With a slow-thudding heart you briefly fear he'll be so furious he'll run back to the gala, to find Dietrich, but he only bends down and kisses the wound, just barely, lips ghosting over skin, so gently you could cry. Kneeling before you, he looks like a prince, a knight. He's careful to avoid the wound when he lifts you back up against the wall.

You can't help but stare down at it, in awe, when he takes his dick out. Your body still thrills at the sight of it, there, huge, resting at your entrance. Theseus grinds a slow circle, sliding it against your wet folds, against your clit. You just stare.

He flashes you a lazy smile.

“What? You want me to help you put it in?”

You moan, audibly. You're not doing a very good job at being discreet, but how can you when he says things like that to you and expects you to answer?

"Yes, please," you close your eyes, too flustered to meet his burning gaze when you say the words.

He grips the base of his cock and guides it into your pussy. Clamps a hand over your mouth to muffle the noises you're making, you whimper dumbly against his palm. Only releases his hand from your mouth once he's fully seated inside of you. The stretch is so big you know it would hardly take any movement at all for him to break that tension and make you come, drive you mad, unravel you completely. Just a few rocks against the wall, a few rolls of his hips and you'd be brainless and spent, crying out his name. You're already dripping around him. But you want to last longer for him this time.

He's looking directly into your eyes.

“You’re taking it, Y/N. You can choose where—in your mouth, on your face, inside. But you’re taking it all.”

You nod. Then once again he's fucking you dumb, you don't even care that anyone could walk by, you're just thinking about how big he is, how good it feels. He's fucking your body slack now, you don't even have to do anything, he’s holding you up, lifting you onto and off of his cock roughly, debasingly.

His hands nearly circle your waist completely, they’re so large. Your mouth is stuck open, making stupid, feeble noises and he’s grunting small words of encouragement.

"Say my name," he says.

When you don't respond immediately, too blissed out to think, he slams your body down harder onto him and you nearly yelp.

"Hngh, Theseus. Theseus, please-"

You can feel him get almost unbearably hard inside of you, then he’s heaving you up and flipping you around, manhandling you, so your back is his against his torso, his right arm a bar across your chest, still inside. He brings a hand down roughly to your clit to touch you through it, and then you're both coming hard, your loud, jagged breaths echoing through the empty hall.

Your head spins, you're seeing stars.

"Baby," he says, when you don't come back to yourself immediately. "Was I too rough? Are you okay?"

You nod, breathlessly, but stumble when he finally stops supporting your weight. Your body is still juddering with pleasure, your fingertips quiver and feel numb as you smooth down your dress.

He's right, you think with a laugh. My dress is too damn short.

Theseus has the decency to look around the hall to make sure no one was watching, and to help you fix your hair and what's left of your lipstick. Your lips are pink and bitten now, swollen.

"They're probably wondering where we are. We should go." His voice is serious, unemotive, but there's something like devotion in the way he looks over you from head to toe, just one last time, to make sure you're beyond reproach. He hands you his jacket, which is huge on you, and slings your fur cape over his arm, bearing the cold himself like a gentleman.

A flurry of snow has begun to spiral down in the streets of Berlin, white particles curling and dancing in the wind. You've always found this type of snowfall to be so fanciful, the closest thing to magic in the muggle world. You walk back to the meeting point in comfortable silence, Theseus's hand clasped firmly around yours.

"He doesn't know what's mine," he'd said about Dietrich, about you. And last night, not that long ago, he'd said, "I love you."

Albeit, after you said it first. You look over to his oblivious face, checking both sides for cars before leading you across the busy street. His kind eyes, the line of his jaw..

You wonder how he could mean it... You'd so meticulously tried to conceal from him all the ugly parts of your life, your past, your fears, even your wants when they seemed to inconvenience him.

Could he love me? Could I let him?

"I want you," you'd said to him in the hall of the German Ministry. You realize now that you meant more than his body. For so long even just a look from him, just a word, was enough to sustain you.

But now you wanted more. Maybe it was selfish, undeserved, that the magical world was giving way to crisis, the dark forces were closing in around hope, and yet here you were, wanting to ask him for more...

part three here

author's note: hiiiiii! YES i switched to present tense from past tense in the last part, and no i'm not sorry... please let me know if you'd like me to continue this fic! i have a third & final chapter in mind. or i can take other theseus requests. the theseus brainrot is real... some AUs would be fun too! as always, feedback is welcome <3 taglist: @mystic-mara

#theseus smut #theseus x reader #theseus scamander #theseus scamander x reader #hp fic #fantastic beasts

804 notes · View notes

beauspot · 9 months

Text

Good Omens Is a Big Deal

With everything going on I haven’t acknowledged how grateful I am for what Neil (and John) did this season. I always saw Good Omens as a romantic story and everyone involved seemed to be super supportive of that. To actually see a follow through on those themes was wonderful though. To see Aziraphale continue to look at Crowley like he’s the earth, the moon, and the stars. To see Crowley continue to save his angel not because he needs them to, but because they love him.

To see them have their dinners, and give the other access to their prized possessions. To see them dance. They love each other. They are in love with each other and it’s not implied or a throwaway line that can be edited out.

It’s the beating heart at the center of the story.

And they weren’t meant to be. Neil himself will tell you when he and Terry wrote the book Aziraphale and Crowley were meant to be friends and that’s it. Over time their relationship evolved and where a lot of writers would simply ignore that and keep pushing forward Neil pivoted and said “you know what? let’s see where this goes.” The last time I can remember something like this happening was with Hannibal years ago, it’s so rare with queer pairings.

I know everyone was excited about the kiss and it is refreshing to see queer people actually get to kiss, it’s still not something that happens all the time, but that’s not what made them canonically queer to me. If they remained completely asexual and never kissed or showed interest in kissing one another I’d feel the same. While I always felt they were queer what sealed it for me were 3 things:

1. Nina and Maggie, a romantic pairing that parallel our angel and demon break down to Crowley how she and Aziraphale are partners (and it’s clear they don’t mean business partners, does Crowley look like he runs a bookshop?) but they never say what they’re really thinking. They go on to state how that’s all they needed, the obvious implication here being that Nina and Maggie shared their romantic feelings with one another and that Crowley and Aziraphale need to do the same. Upon hearing this Crowley takes that as a sign to confess his feelings.

2. Gabriel and Beelzebub, another pairing that parallels Crowley and Aziraphale who are also clearly in love with one another is something Crowley references while he is confessing his feelings. “If those two lovestruck idiots can go off together, so can we. Because I love you.”

3. Crowley and Aziraphale express plainly to each other that they need the other. Crowley says to Aziraphale he wants to stop pretending they aren’t a team, a group, a them.

Aziraphale says verbatim “We can be together.” and “I need you.” He doesn’t say “We can work together” or “I need you to help me” or some other cop out that a lot of other shows or movies might come up with to continue to bait their fans, while having plausible deniability.

They love each other and it’s not platonic.

To me, the kiss serves as a way to seal the deal for people who only understand queer love when it’s punching them in the face. That’s not to say queer people can’t like the kiss, it’s one of my favorite scenes in the show simply because of how heartbreaking it is, but they were a couple to me long before that. And to add onto that by making every other important pairing in the show queer as well? Nina and Maggie being happy sapphics who don’t die at the end. They’re not together, but the implication is that one day they will be. Two non-binary beings—Gabriel and Beelzebub—falling in love and choosing to be with one another forever. The angels and demons are all genderless and no one misgenders them and no one gives a FUCK.

That means so much to me and I genuinely cannot express how thankful I am that this show and this season were made. The only thing I can say is thank you for standing for something, because not everyone does.

1K notes · View notes

k-hotchoisan · 7 months

Text

toothbrush (Seonghwa x fem!reader)

Baby, you don’t have to rush, you can leave your toothbrush at my place.

We don’t have to keep it hush, you can leave your toothbrush at my place.

He’s in love with you, but he doesn’t know how to tell you, so he asks you to leave your toothbrush at his place.

Genre/Warnings: friends to lovers, confessions, fluff, unprotected sex, night before sex, morning sex, cream pies

Word count: 5.5k

A/n: this mf song has been stuck in my head so I gotta write this to get it out of my system.

A little something for ✨ 200 followers ✨

2 SEX SCENES IN 1??? YALL EATING SO GOOD OK 🌶️💯🥵🔥

thank you for the support 🩷 words cannot express how grateful I am for every like, reblog and reply!

You didn’t mean to but there you were again, being irritated and crying from another heartbreak from a relationship that wasn’t even a relationship. It sucked because he seemed like a really nice guy, good even, well, if you squinted hard enough I guess. But still, it didn’t change the fact that it gutted you.

You lie on your friend’s lap, wiping your wet eyes while she snatches your phone to block that scum’s contact number.

“You need to stop doing this to yourself”, she scolds, and you’ve heard it many times from her but love makes you an absolute dumbass.

Seonghwa walks over, his arms folded, evident he heard your sniffling from across the room. You glance at him, tears still watering your eyes because you know he’s about to give you another earful. But the moment he sees you vulnerable like that, he can’t bring himself to do it, and he’s sure you’ve heard a million times, especially from him. He simply sighs and puts an outstretched arm to get you to sit up.

You remain silent as you take his hand gingerly and he pulls you up. He kneels down to your eye level. “I’ll bring you to supper okay? Forget about that son of a bitch.”

You still wear a pout on your face as you sigh and lean forward a little. For a spilt second, Seonghwa is taken aback and pulls back immediately, thinking you were about to kiss him, and his ears grow red very quickly, unnoticed by you, but definitely caught by your friend, who turns away and snickers at the ridiculousness of it all.

Seonghwa immediately stands up and looks away, walking back to whatever he was doing. You slap your cheeks gently before leaving to wash your face in Seonghwa’s bathroom.

The three of you spend the evening playing horrible matches of Super Smash Bros, before your friend decides to leave early, only leaving you and Seonghwa with each other. You excuse yourself to the washroom to freshen up before your supper appointment with Seonghwa and he nods as he attempts to switch off the console.

Just then, your phone lights up and that catches Seonghwa’s attention. He at first decides to merely glance over to check if it was your friend who messaged you, but irritation and annoyance bleeds into his system the moment he sees the Instagram direct message notification, from that exact guy who ghosted you, asking you if you had him blocked on the app the both of you were messaging on.

The fucking audacity of him. Seonghwa could only furrow his eyebrows in complete frustration as he doesn’t want to invade your privacy, even though you gave him your password in case of drinking emergencies. Instead, he simply opts to swipe the notification away, as if it never existed. That barely keeps him satisfied, because he wishes he could just send a “go fuck yourself” to him before blocking him on Instagram as well.

You come back and Seonghwa is standing up, taking his essentials in his pretty hands as he hands you your phone.

You thank him as you receive your phone from him. “Remember to block him”, Seonghwa reminds you out of the blue, only leaving you confused since you did block him already. You don’t question it nonetheless, and go to grab your wallet from your bag.

By then it was almost 11pm, and the both of you settle on a local Vietnamese restaurant for some nice Pho. Seonghwa helps you order the food before you could even iterate yours. You scrunch your eyebrows in curiosity at him.

“Didn’t know you were so nice,” you tease as you receive the utensils from him on instinct. He rolls his eyes. “I’m always nice. You’ve just been accustomed to it.”

“Of course you are. My Park Seonghwa is always the nicest”, you hum, and Seonghwa freezes in his place, his noodles in midair, hanging by the chopsticks he’s suddenly grasping so hard. There it is again, the slow tinting of his ears, that you thought you missed for a spilt second.

Seonghwa obviously opts not to say anything back, letting the words sink as he slurps the noodles. He notices your mood had significantly lightened up the moment you indulged yourself in the meal, and he internally sighs in relief. He lets you run your mouth as he listens intently, just wanting to hear your voice and opinions, at the same getting lost in the gaze of your twinkling eyes. He loved that part of you so much for some reason. It was so addictive to indulge in, and Seonghwa knows, it’s never gonna be enough for him. He hasn’t gotten to a certain point yet, and he’s sort of afraid to because;

One, he doesn’t want to get caught;

Two, he knows if he starts, he’s never going back. A fucking rabbit hole that constantly coos him to step into.

“No dates recently? You ask, as you munch on the meat.”

Seonghwa shakes his head. “Not interested.”

You pull your lips thin, offhandedly thinking his standards must be high.

“Oh right. I need to head to the convenience store to grab some stuff”, you say, reminding yourself aloud. “Shall we?”

Seonghwa nods as you stand up quickly, shocking Seonghwa as you block him from leaving first, as you tunnel to the cashier to pay for the meal. He barely registers what’s going on and the second he does, it’s already too late and he rushes over to you, frustrated that you paid the bill when it was him who suggested the meal.

You roll your eyes playfully at him. “It’s fine Seonghwa. Take it as thanks for making me feel better”, you say patting his cheeks lightly before sliding your card back into your wallet. You and Seonghwa thank the staff before heading to your next destination.

The door rings as he pushes the door open for you and lets you go in first. You immediately head for the toiletries section and Seonghwa spilts to the snacks section.

He’s done picking out his snacks, arms full of chips and cup ramen, as he dumps the small load into the basket. He picks it up and decides to look for you.

And you were there, at the same section. Seonghwa’s curious at what you’re so intently looking at and why you were at the toiletries section to begin with. He assumes at first that you needed sanitary items but as he nears you, he sees that you’re looking at—

“Toothbrushes?” He asks as he leans in closer to take a look.

You nod. “Yeah. About time I get a new one.”

“Get the pair one.” Seonghwa suggests, his hands overlapping and covering yours as he reaches out for the twin pair beside the one you were looking at.

“For what? You need one too?” You ask, turning to face him.

“No”, was all he replies. You raise an eyebrow in confusion, waiting for him to continue.

“Soooo, why should I get the twin pack?” You ask again, tilting your head at him. Seonghwa can’t seem to meet your gaze.

And you realise, once again, his ears are slowly turning into a pretty shade of red. But it still doesn’t make sense. The blush creeps to his cheeks slightly, barely noticeable if it wasn’t for the fluorescent lights beating down on the both of you, and the silence only grows more heavier. You hear a small inhales taken by Seonghwa.

“So you can leave one at my place”, he finally responds, his eyes darting from the toothbrushes to your eyes.

Your words are stuck in your throat, completely taken aback. You blink at him.

“Your place?” You reiterate, already slowly tugging the pack.

Seonghwa cuts the eye contact, and he hastily pulls the pack from under your hands and dumps it into the basket. It’s fucking evident—he’s fucking blushing even though he’s keeping a straight face. Nothing is still adding up in your head—like where that even came from, what that even meant.

“Hwa”, you sounded, your hands curling around his arm to get his attention. He flinches slightly at your contact. “What do you mean by that? I don’t stay over-“

“You should stay over tonight since you don’t have anything on tomorrow. It’s late”, he cuts. He’s barely calm as his back is facing you, and he feels himself shaking from the ballsy words that left his mouth. He was so fucking relieved that the only people in store was the both of you. But what made him vocalise those thoughts? He doesn’t know as well. But since he already pushed the suggestion to even leave a fucking toothbrush at his place, he may as well go all out.

A hell lot of thoughts were running through your mind. The reason of asking you to stay over solely because “it’s late”, you both knew it was a fucking lie. But the question still stands—since when?

Then he suddenly backtracks. “I can sleep on the couch. You don’t have to if you don’t want to.” That only strengthens your resolve for some reason, only wondering how this impromptu conversation will evolve from here.

“Sure, I’ll crash at your place.”

And Seonghwa doesn’t reply, because he’s struggling to cover his red ass face as he quickens his pace to the cashier, leaving you still stumped behind him. But being the guy Park Seonghwa is, he turns behind and ushers you to follow him, causing a small smile to dance on your lips as you almost skip to his side.

Thank fuck the route back was like a five minutes walk because the both of you don’t say a word—just Seonghwa holding the plastic bag as you tail him, sneaking glances at him as he covers his lips with the back of his palm.

“You’re blushing a hell lot, Park Seonghwa”, you point out, intentionally nearing his face. His palm flattens on his cheek, and then lowers to his neck and he sighs. “I know”, he replies, finally able to crack a small smile the moment his eyes meet yours. He can’t help it. Deep inside, he’s still bewildered that you agreed to stay over.

Seonghwa dumps his stuff on the dining table and starts digging for your toothbrush, knowing you are gonna ask for it the moment you remove your shoes. Before you could even ask, he whips the toiletry out right into your hands.

“Thanks bro”, you say, taking the item from him. And from the corner of your eye, you see a pout form on his face, and that only elicits a small chuckle from you as you tear open the packaging to take one out.

“Do you have spare towels?” You ask.

“I’ll grab some for you, and a shirt too”, Seonghwa replies as he leaves the vicinity, a little too quickly, as he snatches one of the toothbrushes already in your hand.

A few minutes pass and Seonghwa emerges from the bathroom and gestures for you to go in when you’re ready. “It’s on the sink. Be careful okay? Call out my name if you need anything.”

You nod as you disappear into the bathroom.

And then Seonghwa’s composure completely dissipates the moment you close the door. Red flushes his neck and ears again as he sits on the couch, covering his face with both palms. Fuck, he can’t believe this is happening. He’s not expecting anything obviously because he doesn’t know how you feel about him, and he doesn’t want to push it. But undoubtedly, the thought of you being in the same vicinity as him, is sending him into a spiral.

“Fuck me”, he sighs, leaning back into the couch, his face under his arm, feeling his blush not going away.

You leave the bathroom after fifteen, agonising minutes, and Seonghwa is relieved he lent you his boxers because he wouldn’t know what he would have done if you came out just in his shirt and your underwear.

“I’m done. I’m going into the room first. You don’t have to sleep on the couch. I’m fine with sharing a bed with you”, you tell him before disappearing with your phone. Seonghwa’s thoughts grow hazy because the situation is just escalating and his mind is slowly creeping into areas where he had promised not to seep into. Maybe it was the comfort he gave you because he always looked out for you ever since the both of you grew close and that you knew he would never hurt you, but it’s reaching a fever pitch at this point and he doesn’t know how much more he can take because his crush on you is that fucking bad.

He emerges from the bathroom, his hair wet and dripping, in the cutest matching silk grey pyjamas you finally see him wear in real life since you’ve only seen once through discord. Fuck he’s so adorable, like he’s totally prepared for bed already. He climbs into bed, his gaze never leaving yours as he drinks the look of you in his clothes. It was almost dream-like in his eyes.

“I finally get to see you in those cute pjs”, you tease. “Maybe I should get a set too.”

Seonghwa snuggles to a comfortable position, since the bed isn’t too big, and you feel his knee bump onto yours. You turn to face him, and he feels himself melt under your gaze.

“Park Seonghwa,” you call out, snapping him out of his little day dream, and he straightens his back in attention. “What’s up with you?”

Seonghwa doesn’t answer, and it’s evident he’s getting nervous. His hand reaches out to caress your cheek and you shut your eyes as you feel the tips of his fingers brush against your skin.

“It’s you. It’s always been you”, Seonghwa suddenly confesses, removing his hands from your face.

Your heart bursts into thousands of butterflies at his response. You don’t know how you never noticed it, but now that he’s mentioned it, you realise the soft spots he seemed to have for you, which you brushed off his actions as how he’s always been with other people, now more evident as it floats to the surface.

For a moment, you don’t know how to feel because it was all so sudden. But the more Seonghwa’s sinks into your brain, the more you feel yourself falling—fast. And now the both of you are staring at each other in the dark, on the same bed, sharing the silence between the both of you.

“I think it would devastate me if you didn’t like me back”, Seonghwa breaks the silence, as a small laugh escapes his lips. “But it’s fine. I don’t-“

Your hands cup the male’s lips, and his eyes widen in surprise, wondering if he said anything wrong.

“Seonghwa. Stop talking.”

His heart races, bracing for a rejection, only to feel a pair of hands cup his cheek as you lean in and press your lips against his.

Seonghwa feels himself falling apart as his hands snake to the side of your head, his lips parting, desperate to taste all of you as he closes the distance between the both of you. He becomes more aggressive as every second passed, craving for every part of you. The smell of his body soap on you engulfs him entirely and can’t help but turn into mush against your lips.

As he pulls back and drinks the sight of you heaving softly and eyes hooded, he moves above you, his hands trailing up and down your body as he dives in for another hungry kiss. He’s still not processing it—the fact that he confessed to you at the heat of the moment, the fact that you kissed him and the fact that he’s above you right now.

His thumb brushes against the corner of your lips and you part your lips—something he doesn’t expect—as his thumb slides down past your lips as you stick your tongue out shyly and he’s aroused by the whole scene.

“Could I-?” He asks, trying to keep his cool. You take his hand and lick his thumb, sending electricity right to Seonghwa’s dick, which is hardening very quickly above you.

“Please do. Anything, if it’s with you”, you sigh, your arousal burning you up. Seonghwa’s heart skips a beat as he pulls his shirt off and your breathe quickens at how scrumptious his body looks. Fuck, his tits look amazing. You absentmindedly reach out to feel them and boy, did they feel so good. Seonghwa’s face contorts into one of pleasure as a whimper escapes his lips. Your eyes flicker to meet his and a small smile appears on your lips. You don’t realise what he’s doing until his hands snake under your oversized tee and he cups your tits in return, causing you to squeal in pleasure as he pinches your nipples tenderly. “That feels good, Hwa”, you whimper, trying to hide your shyness. He takes it as a signal to lift the shirt up and over your head, your bare chest fully exposed to him now. His breath hitches because never in a million years would he have thought it would be right before him like that. He still cannot fathom it.

He cups your tits as he goes down and sucks on your nipple, causing you to arch your back in reaction as a cry leaves your body. Your fingers tug on his hair gently and this time, he whimpers. His eyes slowly open as he soaks in the view of you, face contorted with pleasure as he sucks and kisses your tits. He can’t get enough.

His hands soon leave your chest, giving you a moment to catch your breath, but you realise it’s because he’s palming his crotch—his dick just erected and pushing against his silk pants, which were starting to get stained from his precum.

“Come here”, you gesture, and he moves in closer, his gaze never leaving yours, wanting to immerse himself with you. You have him leaning against the pillows that were propped up, and you move in for another gentle, open mouthed kiss. He immediately reciprocates, sighing into your mouth lovingly as he cups your cheek while he palms his clothed erection.

You straddle him, and your pussy is just above his erection. A little bit of teasing wouldn’t hurt, you think as you grind up his clothed dick. Seonghwa stares down at your pussy as the wetness continues to pool and leak through your clothes with heavy breaths. The friction from the layers is making him whine. It’s not enough. Seonghwa wants more. But oh gods, did it feel so good. He stops you when he can’t take it anymore.

“Please, y/n. Need to be in you”, he begs, squeezing your thighs. “It’s not enough.”

You pull back and tug on his waistbands, pulling off both his pants and his boxers, staring at the string of wetness between his cockhead and his undergarment. His cock twitches at the contact and more precum oozes from his tip.

Seonghwa is definitely feeling shy but the horniness is just overpowering him at this point.

And you were not gonna let it go just yet.

You give him small strokes and he fucks into your hand, and whines. You never knew Seonghwa to be the greedy type but from the way he’s begging—twitching and whining to be fucked—it definitely gave you a new perspective.

“Are you ready?” You ask, stroking his jaw.

He nods a little too quickly, his gaze locking onto yours as you position his cockhead to your entrance and sink down.

It was a fucking treat—watching Seonghwa’s face contort into absolute euphoria, eyebrows scrunching together, more whimpers and whines escaping his lips alongside your name.

Your cunt finally swallows his cock whole and Seonghwa’s hand trembles slightly as he lets himself soak in the warmth of your pussy.

Your fingers go around his jaw as you lift his chin up to face you.

“You’re not gonna cum yet right?”

His eyes look so glazed as he shakes his head frantically. You lean in and kiss his jaw. “I’m gonna start moving”, you mutter, loud enough so that he could hear, and he nods.

You lift your hips off and slam down, the pleasure buzzing through the both of you as you begin bouncing on his cock. Seonghwa fights the urge to shut his eyes as his fingers grip your thighs.

“Mm, so good. So fucking good, y/n. Fuck. More, please.” He begs. “You feel so fucking amazing.”

On the other hand, you felt as euphoric as well, his cock hitting you in all right places. You lean in to rest your head on Seonghwa’s shoulders as you do your best to fuck into Seonghwa’s cock. The sounds were so pornographic—squelching and wet skin slapping non stop—only keeping the momentum going.

You were starting to lose grip on reality as well, the only thing that settled in your mind was the feeling of Seonghwa’s cock just being shoved deep in you. Soon enough, his hands move to your ass, lifting it before pushing it down, loving how your cunt just devours his cock whole like that. He doesn’t forget to pull you in and stick soft kisses against your neck and temples every time you lower yourself on his dick, exacerbating the tickling that flushed in your cunt. Your mind slowly melts into mush every time Seonghwa’s melodic moans burn straight into your ear.

Your hands cup both sides of his face as you tilt his head to face you. His eyes were half-lidded, and his lips parted, and he’s trying to regulate his breathing as his eyes focus on yours. You hear your heart hammer in your ears. You never realised how fucking gorgeous he actually looks.

“You put Aphrodite to shame, you know?” You suddenly break the silence. Seonghwa grows red again. He attempts to look away but your hands aren’t letting him. “You’re so fucking pretty.” And he hardens right beneath you, his neck fully flushing red now.

You turn to nip and kiss his neck this time, and his breath gets caught in his throat, now small sobs leaving him. The orgasmic feeling begins chasing you as you feel yourself squeeze around him, and undoubtedly, Seonghwa feels it too, judging by how erratically he’s rutting into you.

“Fuck, Hwa, I’m cumming”, you crack, as you sink so fucking deep into his cock, feeling his cockhead just dragging along your cunt, that his fingers are leaving light imprints on your thighs.

“So fucking deep-“ he pants, just before his face seeps into another realm of pleasure when your orgasm bursts in waves and you are clawing his arms, barely keeping it together as the pleasure washes over you. Your eyes are rolled back, eyebrows scrunched as only Seonghwa’s name leaves your lips over and over.

Seonghwa’s hands curl around your jaw as he brings your lips to his, kissing you hard through your orgasm, and your mouth hangs open, still fucked out from the pleasure. You’re pretty sure you creamed so much on his cock at this point, but you were too much in euphoria to care.

In between wet kisses, he winces, “I’m cumming too”. Without much of a warning, his cock twitches in you, and he shoots ropes of hot cum right into your hole as he groans into your neck, right at your fucking ear. His grip moves to your hair as he tugs gently as he empties himself in you.

As the high dies down, the only sounds in the room were you and Seonghwa’s pants. You were the first to break the tension with a soft laugh.

“Oh god Seonghwa, I think I’m in love with you.”

Seonghwa blinks, not expecting those words to leave your mouth. He wants to grab you and kiss you so hard till you fight for air but he holds back, kissing the shell of your ear before whispering, “you don’t know how long I’ve been in love with you.” You pull back, covering your ear, your turn to blush.

You lift yourself off him, feeling his cum leak out of you as you wince. Seonghwa is fighting every nerve in his body to look away but his gaze stays glued onto the way his cum oozes out of you, his heartbeat turning up a notch.

You head to the bathroom to clean up and so does Seonghwa. He washes his hands and combs through your hair with a hairbrush delicately, and you realise you’re falling way too fucking hard for him.

He takes your hand and leads you back to the bed, where he pulls the covers open for you to climb in as you snuggle into his warmth.

The warmth of the sun kisses against your skin as you stir awake. Seonghwa faces you, his hair tussled against the pillow and his lashes splay prettily on his face. You can’t help but stroke his face gently, smiling to yourself.

Seonghwa’s eyes flutter open and he soaks the figure of you looking at him fondly. He definitely blushes but you could tell he was more confident and it shows at the way he presses a soft kiss onto your palm.

“Morning, Angel”, he greets. Your heart flutters at the pet name.

“Good morning Hwa”, you reply, this time it was you feeling shy.

“So, have I upgraded from a “bro” already?”he asks, poking your cheek.

You roll your eyes, wondering how he even remembered that. “Yeah, yeah. I don’t think I could be with anyone else but you.”

Seonghwa’s grin spread wide as he covers his face with the covers. You separate yourself from him and he follows your movements as you leave the bed to wash up.

Seonghwa stares at you speechless as you pull your panties from your ass with your thumbs right in front of you as you leave for the bathroom, and his breath is knocked out of him when he remembers that that you left his boxers somewhere on the bed, and that you slept in with his shirt and your panties. He wets his lips as he decides to get out and follow you.

He enters the small bathroom and admires the way his shirt hangs off your shoulders and the way you’re just leaning into the mirror as you brush your teeth. He walks over and intentionally bumps into you playfully, and you frown at him, mouth still covered in foamed toothpaste. He takes his toothbrush from the holder, presses a small amount of toothpaste onto his toothbrush.

There was something strangely calming about just standing together, side by side, brushing teeth. The cute moment definitely did last, until Seonghwa’s gaze wanders down to your ass.

And suddenly his dick is hard against his pyjama pants, and you were too caught up on washing your face and checking the mirror to notice it.

Seonghwa continues to stare at you as you wash the toothbrush and fit it in the holder, and the thought of you and your toothbrush being a permanent part of his household, sent his brain into a frenzy. You were his, undoubtedly.

He finishes up his teeth brushing duties, letting his toothbrush sit opposite yours. You don’t realise he’s behind you until you a feel a pair of strong arms snake around your waist, causing you to squeal.

“Babe, what-“ and your question is cut short when begins pepper kisses on the nape of your neck, sending electricity down your spine as you shiver.

In between hungry kisses, his gaze pins you from the reflection in the mirror and you freeze. “I’m sorry Angel, but seeing you look that first thing in the morning… I can’t help myself.”

And you feel his erection just pressing between your legs. You turn your face to side, your lips pressed to his ear as you whisper softly, “then help yourself, Seonghwa.” It sends goosebumps down Seonghwa, and for a spilt second, his eyes look crazed at your invitation.

He doesn’t even bother to pull your panties off, he only pulls it to the side, and the cold air hits your exposed cunt as you wince. Seonghwa pushes his fingers past your lips and then plunges it into your heat as your grip on the sink tightens, feeling the pressure of his fingers digging into you so well.

Seonghwa doesn’t wait—he can’t wait. He fucking needs you, and he needs you now. He pulls quickly after determining that your pussy stretched enough (no thanks to yesterday’s session) he lets his pants and boxers drop to his ankles, exposing his thick and heated cock, which was sleeked with precum as he pumps himself.

Seonghwa then drags you slightly backwards and positions himself his cock dives into you, and your back arches as you gasp. Fuck, you don’t remember his cock was this thick even though the both of you just fucked the night before. You feel so fucking full just by Seonghwa’s dick pressing against every area of your nerves. He doesn’t give you any more time to adjust as he starts fucking you, making sure each slap against your cunt was heard loud and fucking clear within the constraints of the bathroom. Your moans are choked in your throat as Seonghwa’s hand pushes your chin up to look right at the mirror before the both of you. Your hair is a in mess from the bed hair, your lips coated in your spit from the arousal and your eyes are half-lidded from the endless amount of pleasure Seonghwa was fucking into you.

“Look at you, so fucked out, yet so beautiful. All mine. All fucking mine”, he hums into your ears and you can’t help but squeeze his cock in response to how he’s making you feel. You don’t know where the sudden possessiveness came from, but it’s not like you didn’t mind. You would submit yourself perfectly to him.

“So good, babe. Fuuuuck”, you draw out your moans. You don’t know how much longer you could hold yourself up when he’s fucking into you so hard like that. Every time he pushes in, it was a dopamine rush in your cunt. He was about to fuck you dumb and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

“Such a good Angel, creaming for me like this”, he praises as he looks at his cock when he pulls out, full of your arousal just leaking off his cock, before shoving his cock in again, pushing more moans and cries out of you.

“Hwa, please, I’m close. Gonna cum”, you pant, feeling your cunt spazzing around his dick. He definitely feels it too because he grabs your chin to face him as he devours you in a hungry kiss, trying to keep the momentum.

“You can let go, Angel. You can do it for me”, he says, stroking the sides of your face, and by some kind of miracle of timing, your orgasm washes over you, your cunt fluttering, which makes Seonghwa groan in bliss as he feels his cock being squeezed perfectly.

He leans into you, pushing you further down against the sink, as he begins to rut into you. “Cumming. Fuck”, he barely responds, engulfed in his own realm of pleasure as he ruts in a couple more times before his cock empties out in you, so much that some seeps out of your sore cunt, trickling down your thighs and some straight up dripping onto the bathroom floor.

Seonghwa takes a minute to gather himself as he pulls out gingerly, wincing at the sensitivity. He straightens you up, and pulls you into his arms as he presses another kiss onto your forehead. He steps out of his soiled clothing and helps you out of yours, as the both of you go on to shower together.

“What the heck got into you?” You ask, as you help him lather the soap on his broad back which you forced yourself not to excessively gawk at.

“You just looked too good. Like I said, I couldn’t help it.” And he’s so glad that he’s not facing you right now.

You laugh, pressing against his sides playfully, making him squeal as he faces you in surprise.

“I get that you’re embarrassed but you know it’s okay to look at me right?” You say, poking his chest—also definitely something you wanted to explore. Seonghwa pouts at you, and then his face relaxes.

“Y/n. I like you. No, I’m actually fucking in love with you”, he suddenly says, which only makes you cock an eyebrow.

“About fucking time you said it”, you reply, rubbing your arms up with more body wash. You look up at him with mischievous expression. “My toothbrush isn’t going anywhere, babe”, you tease, giving him a small peck on his lips before blasting him with the shower head.

#Spotify #ateez scenarios #ateez #ateez smut #ateez x reader #ateez fanfic #ateez imagines #smut #ateez fic #ateez seonghwa #y/n x seonghwa #seonghwa #park Seonghwa #Seonghwa smut #ateez fluff #kpop smut

844 notes · View notes

heliza24 · 2 months

Text

I want to talk a little bit about Daniel in the Interview with the Vampire show, because the new trailer material has me stuck thinking about him, and also I’ve never written about how meaningful he is as disabled character to me before.

I don’t see many people thinking about show!Daniel in these terms, but he’s a canon disabled character. And I think the way he is written is just SO good. The acerbic wit, his relationship to doctors and his medication, his rueful acceptance of the way his disability has changed him. It is all so correct!! It’s really incredibly rare to have not only a disabled character written this well but specifically a chronically ill character written this well. His illness is always present; it doesn’t get forgotten about by the story. It gives Daniel insight into the vampires (more on this in a min), but it also gives Louis and Armand leverage over him. When Louis triggers his Parkinson’s symptoms? Deeply not ok. But that’s what made it such a great scene, and really made Louis feel dangerous and threateningin that moment. Armand and Louis arranging Daniel’s meds is a sign of great care and also great power over Daniel. It’s the perfect way to communicate the complicated power dynamic in their relationship.

I also just fucking love that this show takes place in 2022 and doesn’t erase the pandemic. Covid is a very present concern for Daniel and I cannot describe how validating that is for me as someone who is clinically vulnerable to Covid and who has had to really limit my life and take a lot of precautions because everyone else has decided to stop caring whether they pass on Covid or not. The fact that Daniel gets on a plane to Dubai is a BIG DEAL. He’s risking his life to talk to Louis and Armand before he’s even in the room with them. He really wants to be there. I have to make a similar calculation every time I travel, and trust me, getting on that plane knowing getting sick could spiral you into even worse health or kill you is really hard.

I think making Daniel disabled and including the pandemic is kind of a genius level decision on a thematic level. Of course Daniel is now facing down his mortality, which gives him a whole new lens on the vampires and the fact that he once asked them to turn him. And the pandemic further highlights his fragility, and is also possibly being used as a cover for drama that’s happening in the vampire world. But I think it also really sets Daniel up as a foil to Louis.

There’s a lot of analysis of the vampire chronicles that reads vampirism as a metaphor for queerness. But I would actually propose that it’s a much neater parallel for disability and illness in a lot of ways. So many of Louis’s initial experiences after being turned resonated with me, as someone who became chronically ill in my 20s. My appetite and relationship to food completely changed, much like Louis. My relationship with the outdoors and the sun changed, because of dysautonomia and allergy reasons. I was very mad, and very depressed, and I too have missed out on birthday parties and big life events like Louis did because I was too sick to go. Hell, you can even say that the way that Louis is treated as evil by his family, that the way vampires literally can’t be a part of society during the day, is reminiscent of ableist exclusion and ugly laws. (Ugly laws were laws that forbid disabled people, especially those with visible differences, from being out in public, and they were on the books in many American municipalities until the 1970s.) You can look at Lestat being an out and proud vampire in the first few episodes on the season and imploring Louis to leave his shame behind as a queer thing, but you can also view it as a disabled thing. Disabled people are portrayed as monstrous so often (and in a way that has gone relatively unexamined compared to say, the queer coded villain trope) that sometimes it’s just easier to embrace that label: I’m the monstrous Crip, but at least I’m not ashamed of or disgusted by who I am anymore.

I do think the real strength of this adaptation is that while you can find parallels between queerness or disability or other forms of marginalization with vampirism, ultimately it’s not a one-to-one parallel. It speaks to the real world but ultimately it is a gothic horror story about supernatural monsters. So I don’t mean to say that vampirism directly equals disability, because it does not. But I do think that making Daniel disabled was an intentional choice to help draw out some of those parallels, and I think the text is richer for it.

So Louis and Daniel have had these kind of parallel experiences of uncontrollable and difficult things happening to their bodies. It sets them up perfectly as foils, and even, I would argue, as the A plot and B Plot protagonists. This is one of my favorite ways of kind of examining the structure of a TV show (or maybe it’s that most of my favorite shows seem to be structured this way?). When TV was all episodic, it would be common to refer to the A plot (mystery of the week), B plot (interpersonal drama happening as the mystery gets solved) and C plot (any overarching plot tying the season together) in an episode. Now that stuff is serialized, there’s often a main protagonist, who has the main dramatic question and the most agency, and then there is often a secondary B plot that explores similar themes and mirrors the A plot, or presents a second main character who is the ldifferent side of the same coin” to the main protagonist. (My favorite example of this is Flint and Max in Black Sails, and I’ve also made the argument that Wilhelm and Sara fit this pattern in Young Royals.) In IwtV, Louis is obviously the main protagonist of the show, especially in the A Plot, which is the stuff taking place in New Orleans/Paris. But I would argue that Daniel is the protagonist of the B Plot set in Dubai. At the very least they’re intentionally set up as mirrors of each other:

They are both unreliable narrators, who are struggling with the way memory contorts (through memory erasure, illness, deliberate obfuscations, and just the passage of time). The most recent teaser trailer, where we hear Louis saying “I don’t remember that”, with panic in his voice, further underlined this similarity between Louis and Daniel to me. I don’t know if it means that Louis has also had his memory tampered with, as I’m assuming Daniel has, but I do think it means that Louis is going to be struggling with feeling out of control of his own narrative more in season 2, a thing that was already starting for Daniel in season 1.

They are also both locked into power struggles with people more powerful than they are. The fact that Louis is under Lestat in the flashbacks and above Daniel in the Dubai scenes in terms of power/status makes it all the more interesting. And, if we want to go ahead and assume that the Devils Minion’s years have happened in the past by the time we get to Dubai— it’s possible that both Daniel and Louis are united in being the less powerful partner in their own respective fucked up gothic romances.

They’re also both the audience’s entry point into their respective stories. Louis’s narration guides us into the world of vampires. Daniel’s questioning satisfies our human curiosity in Dubai.

I think one of the things that makes the show so special is the way that these two protagonists interact. In a lot of shows the a plot and the b plot stay pretty separate. I love talking about Black Sails for this because I think it’s such a good example; Flint and Max never exchange dialogue the entire show, even though they’re so clearly affecting each other the whole time. But the way that Louis and Daniel clash in Dubai is so exciting. We see them both wrestling for control of the narrative. It’s thrilling to watch and it just hammers home the theme of how complicated and changeable stories can be.

I am SO excited to see how the Dubai scenes play out in season 2 because of it. I really can’t wait. I’m really hoping we’ll see Daniel and Louis’s relationship evolve in surprising ways, and I’m holding my breath that we’ll get a lot of Armandaniel material to work with. (I have a whole other post drafted that’s much less smart than this one and is just me waxing poetic about Devil Minion’s theories which I may post at some point. You have been warned.)

I do have two wishes for Daniel in the new season, and they’re 1: that he gets to have romance/sex, because disabled (and older!) characters are so often seen as unworthy of being desired, and I would like to see that challenged and 2: that he continues to refuse to be turned/is not offered a vampiric cure for Parkinson’s. The magic cure for a disability or chronic illness is probably my least favorite disability trope, because it serves to erase disabled characters and representation from the narrative, and I want to see my experiences continue to be reflected in Daniel’s. That means that whatever ending Daniel’s story has will probably have at least a bit of tragedy baked into it, but I’m ok with that.

#interview with the vampire amc #interview with the vampire #iwtv #daniel molloy #armandaniel #devils minion #louis de pointe du lac #armand #my meta #my crip media reviews

298 notes · View notes

octopiys · 9 months

Text

Some incorrect quotes and scenes for the pies

Roach: *Screams*

Ghost: *Screams louder to establish dominance*

Capt. MacTavish: Should we do something?

Capt. Price: No, I want to see who wins.

Alejandro: You lying, cheating, piece of shit!

Valeria: Oh yeah? You’re the idiot who thinks you can get away with everything you do. WELCOME TO THE REAL WORLD

Alejandro: I’m leaving you, and I’M TAKING RODOLFO WITH ME

Rodolfo, picking up the monopoly board: I think we’re gonna stop playing now.

Price: You know, not every problem can be solved with a knife.

Ghost: That's why I carry two knives.

Soap: I made tea.

Ghost: I don’t want tea.

Soap: ....I did not make tea for you. This is my tea.

Ghost: Then why are you telling me?

Soap: It is a conversation starter.

Ghost: That’s a lousy conversation starter.

Soap: Oh, is it? We are conversing. Checkmate.

Gaz: Is letting someone win at chess sapiosexual bottoming

Price, putting his head in his hands: Does anyone in this goddamn team ever think before they speak-

Graves: Must be hard not being able to laugh

Alejandro: I do have a sense of humor you know

Graves: I’ve never heard you laugh before

Alejandro: I’ve never heard you say anything funny

Graves:

Graves: fuck you

Alejandro: fuck you

Soap, motioning to a Halloween display: All these ghosts! All these ghosts! I still can’t find a boo.

Ghost:

Ghost: is it because I said I didn't want your tea-

Soap: YES ITS BECAUSE YOU SAID YOU DIDNT WANT MY TEA

Ghost: Schrödinger’s cat is overrated. If you wanna see something that’s both dead and alive you can talk to me any time of the day.

Gaz, just finding out that Ghost is legally dead:

Gaz: Why isn’t the statue smirking at me?

Price: It isn’t smirking at anyone, they’re all just imagining it.

Soap: Three of us saw it, Cap. How do you explain that?

Price: *points at Soap* Sleep deprivation. *points at König* Paranoia. *points at Ghost* Delusional personality disorder.

Gaz:

Gaz: damn.

Roze: What’s something you guys are better than Horangi at?

Hutch: Mario Kart.

O'Conor: Yeah, video games.

König: Emotional vulnerability

Graves: *Gets down on one knee*

Alejandro: Oh my god, it’s finally happening.

Graves: *Falls over*

Alejandro: The poison is kicking in.

Gaz, after falling out of a heli for the third time: Do you take constructive criticism?

Nikolai: I only take cash or credit.

Soap: Can you keep a secret?

Ghost: Do you know anything about my life?

Soap: No I do not. Good point.

Gaz: Hey heads up if you try to make a candle with food coloring, the food coloring will just sink to the bottom of the glass, and when the flame eventually reaches the bottom all the food coloring will catch fire and become one giant tall flame that you cannot possibly blow out and the glass will start to crack and then you'll throw your tea on it in a panic and then the extremely hot food coloring will boil and sizzle horribly and then the glass will shatter. Please take my word on this haha-

Roach: What did you-?

Gaz: A MISTAKE WAS MADE

I just wanna say thank you all sm for 300 followers! You all r loved and I'm not good with responses but I appreciate them all so muck, thank u again :DDDDD

#call of duty #cod mw2 #modern warfare 2 #john soap mactavish #simon ghost riley #ghostsoap #incorrect quotes #captain john price #alejandro vargas #alerudy #rodolfo parra #kyle gaz garrick #gary roach sanderson #könig modern warfare #horangi #nikolai cod #phillip graves #valeria garza

1K notes · View notes

kiophen · 6 months

Note

genuine question, do you think callout posts are inherently evil? like if someone's doing some weird shit and hiding it i think people would want to be warned about that at least. just try to discourage harassment as much as possible

The existence of a callout posts means that the targeted person will be harassed if enough people see it. There is no amount of "don't harass anyone mentioned in this doc/video" disclaimers that will prevent that. The post is now potentially a permanent record that anyone can cite for years into the future. You are now at the whims of unknown strangers to be banned from communities, kicked out of creative projects, or be blocked by friends, at any time with no warning. I would consider this to be harassment, but to people who don't know about how these things usually go down they would be seen as righteous whistle blowers.

No matter what you actually did, if your awkward interaction with someone was too sexual, or if you stated a shitty opinion about a complex topic, or if you misjudged someone's boundaries, or if you engaged with kink in a way that made someone outside the scene uncomfortable, you are now a predator. I have seen firsthand the game of telephone starting from "this person did/said something sexualized on an online platform where teenagers could have been present," to "acted creepy around teenagers," to "regularly sexually assaulted children," to "pedophile".

Callout posts do not actually stop the person from "doing weird shit". It depends on what you mean by "weird shit", but if you mean "secretly draws/engages with Bad Porn", which is what a lot of callout posts are about, I implore you to recognize that it is truly not your business to know every private action someone takes just because you follow them on social media. This applies to awkward interactions people have in private too. Sometimes it's patterns of abuse, but a lot of the time it's interpersonal drama that is not anyone else's business.

If by "weird shit" you mean that someone has demonstrated ongoing patterns of real emotional/financial/sexual/etc abuse, and it's something that cannot be handled by any other means (either privately or with legal action if relevant), then in those cases a callout post can potentially do more good than harm if it reaches the people that need to know about it.

The level of long-term mental anguish that a target can go through is absolutely no fucking joke. A callout post has the potential to be a gun to someone's head, especially if they're socially/mentally/physically disadvantaged to begin with, which conveniently describes the most likely people to be targeted with high profile callout posts. [This is because: 1.) Our communities are wayy more likely to self-police than the rest of the internet and 2.) there are groups such as kiwifarms that love when a trans girl does something they can suicide bait her with and they also love it when we infight, isolate, and attack each other.]

I don't think callout posts are inherently evil, but they do nothing to make the target not continue their unwanted behavior. The only good function a callout post can serve is to warn potential future victims. If there are no victims, no behavior that will DIRECTLY lead to someone being victimized, no scam being uncovered, no patterns of abuse being shared, then the only victim is the target of the callout post. Everyone else involved is just gawking at gossip and/or contributing to suicidal levels of anxiety to a stranger.

#ask #callout #call out #ive pretty much only been using tumblr for talking about abusive internet behavior #i use mastodon for my normal posting #it feels like everyone on fedi is already aware of all of this.. peaceful #*wearing a button that says Ask Me About The False 4lung Child Kidnapping Accusations!*#miles junk

525 notes · View notes

spiderfunkz · 2 months

Text

✦ RING, RING, RING!

"i think i can really fall in love with him."

word count : 0,9k

warnings : fluff, fem!reader, gwen is mentioned to be readers best friend, harry is mentioned as well, cutesy first dates, peter being just so madly in love & so are you. not proofread!

a/n : inspired by that one scene from 'before sunrise' where celine and jesse pretend to call their friends and tell them about each other :)) also i know i'm late to valentines but it's still february sooooo

if you told yourself a few days ago that you'd be spending valentines day with peter parker, you would laugh at the thought of it.

but right now you couldn't laugh at anything but peter's stupidly unfunny jokes and his cheesy, dry, pickup lines.

you couldn't imagine what valentines would be like with peter parker, but you don't have to. you're experiencing it right now.

he had asked you in a way you've only seen in rom-coms from the 90s. he knocked on your door with a ridiculously large bouquet of flowers, a heart shaped box full of chocolate, and a nervous nerdy smile.

and you accepted it obviously. peter's nice. really nice. out of all the boys in your class, he's a gentleman compared to them.

he's got those big brown doe eyes that make you blush if you make eye contact. that weirdly fluffy hair, that makes you wonder what his hair care routine is like sometimes. the sweetest smile you could ever imagine. and a heart bigger than a size of a lake.

and my gosh, you love him.

he made a reservation at this restaurant. one that you've passed by many times but never seem to stop by. you've always thought it was too fancy for a normal hangout with friends or family, it was always crowded with couples too. it always had a jazz band playing, roses on each table, and you could smell the scent of love from outside.

it was everything you've ever dreamed of. you didn't want it to end but unfortunately, the day got darker and the sun began to set.

"i really enjoyed today, peter." you smile.

"yeah of course. i really enjoyed today too." he replied, there was still a splotch of spaghetti sauce near his mouth.

"unfortunate that the hours went by so quickly, i think i have to go home soon." you pout, peter was still smiling, that spaghetti splotch is not going anywhere.

"or maybe we could still talk, for a bit." he paused for a second before making a hand gesture resembling a phone.

"ring, ring, ring!" he mimicked. you furrow your brows.

"pick it up." he stays smiley.

"okay, beep." you laugh, following his gestures.

peter mouths a 'thank you' before continuing, "oh yeah uh, harry? harry are you there?" he asks.

you knew harry, he's peter's closest friend. they're like two peas in a pod and you could never separate them, not even when harry moved away for years.

you join in his little joke. "uh yeah dude, this is harry. dude." you try to mimic his voice.

"yeah, hey harry! do you remember that girl i was gonna ask out for valentines? the really pretty girl from bio class?" his face became pink.

"oh yeah! the really pretty girl. i know her."

"yeah so, she's with me right now and i am just so happy."

"really? how happy?"

"extremely. she's so fun to talk to. she's so incredibly wonderful and i cannot put it into words how beautiful she is. really harry, you were right. she's an angel."

you smile. "really what else? how did the date go?" your voice rasps, clearly you couldn't really perfect the accent harry has. but peter seemed to like it.

"amazing. the food was great, this restaurant is good, i uh- got the reservation in time so everything has been going perfectly.

she's such a ray of sunshine. i can't stop stealing a glance every time, harry. i dunno what's about it, she's just so- perfect."

peter continues. he's doing it on purpose. well, not really, he was going to call harry and say all of those things. but he thinks it's better to tell you face to face. besides, he loves seeing you smile.

you try your best to blurt out a reply without stuttering. "that's um, that's amazing, dude. i bet she feels the same way about you." you could feel the butterflies in your stomach.

"you really think so?" peter tilts his head.

"i'm sure."

"well, thanks harry. i'll see you later, bye bye." he hangs up, mimicking a beep on the table.

you laugh.

"okay now it's your turn."

"my turn? oh, okay." you gesture your hand.

"dring, dring, dring!" you say, "ugh she's probably studying right now." you explain.

peter picks up, in a voice that will haunt you for years. "hey, girl! what is up!" peter laughs.

it took every cell in your body to not burst out laughing in front of everyone in that restaurant. "hi, gwen. is uh- is your voice okay?" you ask.

"better than ever!" — "oh, okay." you hold your laughter. "um, you know peter? peter parker from biology. the one with fluffy hair and pretty eyes?"

peter smiles, he blushes from his nose.

"yeah so, i'm on a date with him right now. and it feels like a dream. he's prettier up close. he styled his hair, yeah, it's pretty. and he's got spaghetti sauce smeared near his lips." you smile.

peter immediately fixes the splotch, finally.

"he's kind of tall. and he's kinda nerdy too. just my type." you cover your smile, "i like to feel his eyes on me when i look away." you continued.

peter smiles, "what a nice guy."

"he really is. as the date goes on i start to like him even more. i feel like i can really open up to him."

"really?"

"mhm. he got me flowers and some chocolate too. he's funny too, he's got a voice i can listen to for hours. he's like a shot of espresso, you know?"

peter couldn't hide his blush anymore. "a shot of espresso?"

"he makes me feel energized in a way, and he also makes my heart beat really fast." you laugh, "i think i can really fall in love with him."

204 notes · View notes

wannabespacesmuggler · 8 months

Text

D.D. | Shane's Girl

Part Two | Masterlist | Buy me a coffee

Summary: Daryl Dixon knows he shouldn’t be thinking about you when he’s alone at night in his tent. Hell, he shouldn’t even be looking at you throughout the day. You’re not his. You’re Shane’s girl. But Daryl doesn’t like the way Shane treats you. And he certainly doesn’t like how you’re forced to play ‘loving girlfriend’ to a man with eyes for another woman at the camp.

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader

Warnings: Merle Dixon being Merle Dixon, Shane Walsh isn’t great either tbh

Word Count: 1K

Author’s Note: So it's been a hot second (writer's block is a bitch), but I really love this idea and apparently a lot of you guys do too! Thanks for all the love on the first part, all the comments and reblogs have meant the world to me. I really cannot believe how well the first part of this fic was received lol. Let me know what you guys think of this one, if you want to be added to the taglist, or just want to ask me a question.

Extras: Playlist

Daryl is, if anything, a man of his word. He agreed that he’d stay the hell away from Shane’s girl, so that’s exactly what he did. It wasn’t difficult; he is almost always on a hunting trip to keep the ragtag group of survivors fed and when he isn’t, Daryl can be found in his tent taking care of his crossbow and bolts. And since Merle hasn’t spoken a word to you since the little incident in camp, your path just hasn’t crossed his.

That is until his crossbow bolts go missing one morning.

Daryl rips his tent apart in an attempt to find his missing arrows. A steady stream of expletives escape his mouth as he shuffles through Merle’s belongings, hoping that his older brother just so happened to take his bolts and stash them with his possessions -- it certainly wouldn’t be the first time that Merle took something of his and claimed it as his own.

After about thirty minutes, Daryl lets out a frustrated sigh. If his bolts aren’t in here, that means someone in camp took them and that could lead to some issues. After the incident with you and Merle, Daryl hasn’t just kept his distance from you -- Daryl has isolated himself further from everyone at the makeshift camp.

He’s not an idiot and he picked up on everyone’s apprehension in respect to the Dixon brothers since the first few days in camp. That seems to have only gotten worse after Merle’s decision to make a scene in the middle of camp. It doesn’t seem to bother the older Dixon brother; however, Daryl cannot stand how many eyes seem to focus on him whenever he makes an appearance in camp nowadays. Because of this, Daryl has made his trips to camp scarce -- only making his way there to drop off more provisions and supplies. He keeps his head down, he doesn’t speak to anyone, and he doesn’t cause problems.

However, Daryl does take the time to observe the camp and its occupants whenever he’s there. He takes mental notes of who casts him concerned looks. Lori and Carol will stop scrubbing laundry and round up their children every time they see him make his way to the RV. He notices Dale’s eyes narrow every time he enters the RV and how he races to check all of their supplies as soon as he’s stepped foot out of the vehicle. As opposed to popular belief, Daryl has never taken anything from the RV; however, he has left his fair share of scavenged nuts and berries and a handful of animal carcasses in order to keep the camp fed. He’s painfully aware of Shane glaring at him from atop Dale’s RV. He tries to ignore it, but he can’t help the way that it makes his skin crawl. And, against his better judgment, he finds himself keeping tabs on you. It wasn’t a conscious decision at first, but, as time has passed, he’s found his curiosity towards you shifting into what Daryl can only describe as protectiveness.

And that’s how Daryl finds himself awkwardly walking up to you as you scrub laundry against a washboard. You don’t seem to notice his presence as he approaches. He shifts on feet before clearing his throat, in an attempt to grab your attention. Your head shoots up and your eyes widen as they spot him standing in front of you. Daryl is prepared to turn heel and run in the other direction based on your reaction until a smile spreads across your face. You push your hair out of your eyes and drop the laundry in your hands into the basin in front of you before speaking.

“Hey, Daryl. What’s up?”

“Ya know if Shane’s around?”

You move your head to look left, then right. Your eyes scan the camp before they land back on Daryl. You shrug your shoulders.

“Don’t know. I’m not his keeper.”

Daryl releases a breath through his nose at your words. It’s the closest anyone in camp has come to making Daryl Dixon laugh as far as you know and it fills you with pride. You wipe your hands on your jeans and stand up from your position over the basin.

“I may not be Shane, but I might be able to help you.”

“Somebody took my crossbow bolts. Couldn’t find ‘em this mornin’.”

You immediately turn and start walking toward the RV. Shane had told you he was busy this morning with ‘inventory’ this morning. He already took your knife and pistol this morning, so you wouldn’t be surprised if you also found Daryl’s arrows. You explain this to Daryl as he walks behind you. If Merle was here, he’d be laughing at the younger Dixon brother.

‘I leave you alone and you’re already following ‘er around like a lost puppy dog, little brother?’

Daryl tries to shake off Merle’s voice echoing in his mind. He watches as you enter the RV and waits as he hears you rustling through the supplies. A few moments later you emerge with a handful of crossbow bolts.

“I take it these are yours?”

Daryl nods and mumbles a quick thank you as he takes the arrows from you. He quickly counts them, ensuring that he’s gotten all of his property back.

“Do you make them yourself?”

He nods his head again, eyes still focused on the bolts in his hands.

“Could you show me sometime?”

Daryl looks up at you, his head cocked to the side slightly. He’s a little dumbfounded. He wasn’t expecting you to take an interest in his craftsmanship. Hell, he wasn’t expecting you to continue speaking to him after you found his arrows. Thrown off by your actions, Daryl simply says that first thing that crosses his mind as you look at him with an expectant expression.

“Sure.”

Taglist: @darylsl0ver @minervadashwood @hotgirlsshareaccounts @taterbbbug @dreamtofus @youcantstandit @ajlovesdilfs @prettywhenibleed @luvsvnlqt-things @evie-beanie @strnqer @marina-isabella @lissanovak @elissanatok @1tsk1tty @moejoeflow @ceoofdisappointment @jewellthebooknerd

#twd #The Walking Dead #walking dead #daryl dixon #twd daryl #daryl dixon imagine #daryl dixon x reader #daryl x reader #Rick Grimes #shane walsh #merle dixon #glenn rhee #lori grimes #the walking dead imagine #walking dead imagine #Norman Reedus #norman reedus imagine #norman reedus x reader

499 notes · View notes

kingconia · 8 months

Note

hello! could I request something along the lines of the housewardens watching a scary movie or playing a horror game and how they would react<33

TWISTED WONDERLAND'S HOUSEWARDENS AND HOW THEY ARE REACTING ON HORRORS

Riddle Rosehearts. ❤️

— As you put a random horror movie on the screen, Riddle assures you that he, in fact, doesn't find anything exciting or scary in such things. If you do, that's fine! He is going to protect you;

— ...Yet, one thing you don't know about Riddle is that he had never seen a horror movie in his life;

— Watching movies or shows, in general, wasn't something he did often, since his mother thought that it were a mere distraction. But horrors were completely prohibited due to his mother's belief that it negatively affects on heart rate and mental state, and blah-blah-blah;

— So, Riddle has not a single idea what horror movies should be like, and therefore, each jumpscare, even the most stupid one, makes him scream, and throw a caramel popcorn all over the floor. He is so embarrassed by the end of it.

•

”Oh, come on,” you coo, gently hugging Riddle as he hides in the crane of your neck. ”It is okay to be scared of horror movies. It is why people watch them, after all, Riddle.”

”That is stupid,” his voice comes out muffled. ”I hate it.”

You smile, placing a kiss on the top of his head. How cute. You definitely should watch horrors more often, if he is going to react like that every time.

Leona Kingscholar. 💛

— He is the worst person to watch movie with. Not just horrors, but every single genre to ever exist;

— The way movies are so slow, always puts him in sleep. And you know how absolutely boring the beginnings of horror movies can be, right?

— But if Leona puts effort in staying awake for a while, he doesn't get scared at all. More to say, he simply rolls his eyes at every single plot or scene;

— If both of you are not impressed, then, he would rather have a discussion about how awful this movie was. But if you got scared, Leona is absolutely pleased to see you snuggling close to him.

•

”So, how was the movie?” You ask, turning to face Leona as you sit on his lap.

”Characters are dumb, the plot is stupid, and it was not scary at all,” he yawns. ”But I liked it.”

You blink in confusion.

”Why would you like something you just called stupid, Leona?”

”Well, if this stupid thing makes you squirm and cling to me, then, I can deal with that.”

You sigh.

You cannot fix this man.

Azul Ashengrotto. 🩵

— Oh, yes, another ”i-am-not-scared-of-these-movies” type of person. He absolutely brags about how unserious this films are. Like, is anyone really considers them to be scary? Couldn't be him!

— He very benevolently allows you to squeeze his hand or to hide in his embrace during the movie, though;

— ...A-and, then, the movie starts, and both of you shivering in fear, clinging at each other desperately, and closing your eyes as soon as intense music starts;

— Jade and Floyd drop in your room from time to time, just to scare you even more by screaming out of nowhere, or touching your shoulder behind the couch. The chaos ensues...

”Just as I expected, that wasn't that fearsome,” Azul says with a very concentrated expression on his face.

You glare at him, hair in disarray and face still pale after all the terror you experienced in two hours. This man has no rights to act as if didn't almost broke your hand and left you deaf from his screams!

”Azul?”

”Yes, angelfish?”

”You either come to the bed and stop bragging about how absolutely not scared you were, or I am turning lights off, leaving you in the darkness, in the middle of corridor.”

They way he scrambles to your side is just hilarious.

Kalim Al-Asim. 🧡

— Perhaps a controversial opinion, but he genuinely is not scared of horrors? He likes watching them, especially since—I think—Jamil looks like a hardcore horror fan, but he is chill about it;

— I actually think that he laughs through the movie... Like, you know, some horrors have these cliche stupid scenes? He considers it to be comedic, if anything;

— He is very happy that you suggested him to watch the movie together, of course! He genuinely says that if you feel scared, or disgusted by some scenes, you can easily take his hand in yours! Or, you could just switch movies in general, he doesn't mind it;

— If the movie wasn't really interesting, Kalim allows to nap on his shoulder, while he watches it till the end. Either way, he will never tease you!

•

”So, how was the...” Kalim blinks, noticing only now that you accidentally fell asleep on his lap.

When you put your head on his lap, he first thought was that you merely wanted to rest for a while like this. But it seemed, you just fall asleep eventually. How cute!

Of course, he is not planning to wake you up. Sleep as much as you want, treasure. Kalim is going to be here, when you wake up anyway.

Vil Schoenheit. 💜

— Oh no, another man, who brags about how stupid horror movies are... Well, at least, he genuinely considers them to be boring most of the time, and doesn't get scared at all;

— I feel like Vil mostly watches these movies to criticise their writing style, speak about how bad the acting was, and how poorly character's line were written... He works in this industry, he knows what to do;

— If you manage to choose a proper film, that Vil will approve, he will be absolutely invested in it! He will watch it closely! He is not going to be scared, but his excitement will be absolutely sincere;

— If you are easily scared, Vil will find it mildly amusing. He likes seeing you experiencing emotions over movies. And, he is not going to be a prick about it. He will coax you softly, and that's it.

•

”I am sorry,” you mumble, slightly embarrassed for yelping so loudly during the movie. ”I don't get scared easily, you know...”

Vil chuckles, pushing bangs out of your face, pressing a chaste kiss to your forehead.

”Now, now, don't be. That is very sweet,” he smiles. ”And, I must say, I am very satisfied by the choice of the movie. Thank you, potato.”

Idia Shroud. 💙

— He invites you to play some horror games, much like Phasmaphobia, where a few players required! Idia assures you, that he is a pro, and there is nothing scary;

— Of course, half of the evening he spends on explaining the lore of the game, monsters, and rules. You listen to him attentively, and both of you are very determined to play it seriously!

— But, of course, in the end both of you are just idiots. As the game becomes more or less intense, you both begin screaming loudly in each other's ears all the time;

— You still think it was fun. Sadly, others would disagree...

•

”...I just got the message from Leona,” you murmur as Idia turns off the computer, while you check your phone for the first time in the evening. ”He says that our screams is the reason he missed his sleeping schedule.”

Idia rolls his eyes.

”It is not like he heard us from here, right...?”

You scroll unread messages, seeing more and more aggressive remarks from your schoolmates: Azul, saying that you just bother his customers, Malleus asking if anybody died, Ace spamming with repetitive 'shut the fuck up'...

”Right?”

”I am not so sure, Idia...”

Malleus Draconia. 💚

— Oh! Malleus is very excited! He wonders if anything could be more scary than rageful Lilia! Spoiler: no;

— I feel like he has a lot of expectations about all of these movies, but in the end it is not as thrilling as he wanted it to be? But it is not necessarily movie's fault... I mean, it is Malleus we speak about;

— Interrupts movie all the time just to ask questions, like: ”Why would they go separately in this situation?” or ”Why did she went here alone?”, and a constant ”I don't understand”;

— If you get scared in the middle of it, Malleus is more flinching from your reaction than from the movie itself... Like, the only reason of his fear is your own, lmao.

•

”It probably wasn't as interesting as you thought it will be,” you laugh awkwardly, rubbing your neck. ”I am sorry.”

Malleus blinks in surprise, tearing his eyes away from the title screen to you again.

”Oh, no. It was very entertaining, child of men,” he offers you a soft smile. ”And... I am grateful for being invited. I would love to see more of them.”

You smile, nodding instantly.

”Then, we will.”

#twisted wonderland #twst wonderland #malleus draconia #leona kingscholar #leona kingscholar x reader #malleus draconia x reader #vil schoenheit #vil schoenheit x reader #riddle rosehearts #riddle rosehearts x reader #azul ashengrotto #azul ashengrotto x reader #kalim al asim x reader #kalim al asim #idia shroud x reader #idia shroud

624 notes · View notes