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toxicanonymity · 5 months

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You can totally say no if your not comfy doing it but maybe you can suggest another writer who you may think might? But if yoir request are open is there anyway I can convince you to write on the topic of reader being Sara's best friend and has tried to come onto Joel multiple times (ie sneaking into his room etc) and then escalating to slipping a roofie into his drink one night while her and Sara are home on winter break from college? If you're not comfortable i totally understand and im sorry if I made you uncomfortable its just your writing for the darker stuff is so amazing 💖

locket.

2k, joel miller x dark f!reader | master list A/N: here's your 🕊️ in a pear tree 🖤 in a way, it's kinda the inverse of night talks 😅 didn't overthink this one, so FIWB. this is my 3000th tumblr post! WARNINGS: I8+ big girthy age gap (44/21), drugs, dosing, f masturbation, dubcon unsafe p in v, somnophilia-ish, choking adjacent move, degradation (both), cum, dead dove december ig (idk if i'll do a deader one this month).

You're tired of her hot Dad playing hard-to-get, and you're going to put an end to it tonight. You've come home with your college roommate, as you often do since your family lives far. Once again, her dad is dressed like a piece of meat. Tight, white, ride-me t-shirt. Cock bulging in his slutty joggers. He’s walking around double cheeked up on a Friday night in front of his daughter’s best friend. His daughter’s best friend who thinks about him every time she touches herself.

Sarah falls asleep fast, and you can still hear the TV downstairs. You put on your locket, take off your underwear, and adjust your oversized, wide neck t-shirt to make a wardrobe malfunction inevitable with the slightest movement. You creep down the stairs and pause at the landing, where you lightly caress your nipples, bringing them to full attention. You’re already tingling downstairs. You creep up to the edge of the living room with your arms straight down, pushing your boobs together, hands clasped together near your crotch as if you're cold. And to be fair, the air is a little cool on your bare cunt. You’re dripping for him, and the shirt barely covers your asscheeks. Joel barely glances, then does a double take.

His eyes fall on your breasts before reaching your face. His jaw clenches. After a few seconds, he asks, "What?"

"Sorry to bother you. I couldn't sleep."

"What am I s'posed to do about that," he grumbles, looking away from you, resuming his focus on the television.

You shiver and briskly rub your arms, feeling the air hit your exposed nipple for a moment, and you ask about changing the thermostat. He sighs, braces his hands on his knees, and gets up. You shamelessly ogle the bulge in his gray joggers. While he's on his way to adjust the thermostat, you open your locket and drop a little medicine into his can of beer: half a sleeping pill and half a Viagra.

In the corner of your eye, Joel is lingering in the hall. He rubs his beard, looking at you while you pretend to look at the TV. He slowly walks forward. "Goddamn slut," he mutters under his breath, and you force away a smile as you sit down.

When Joel returns to the sofa, you're sitting next to his seat. You bring your knee up to rest on the sofa and feel your pussy exposed. He picks up a blanket off the other end and sets it in your lap.

"Take this with ya." He picks up his beer, and moves to the easy chair. You don't miss the way he adjusts himself as he settles into the chair.

You make yourself comfortable, and when you just sit there, he says, "thought ya said ya were cold.”

“I'm comfy now.”

You sit there in silence watching TV. He finishes his beer and gets another. You keep an eye on him. The sleeping pill seems to hit him first. His eyelids get heavy and he rests his head back on the chair. His breathing is steady. You think you see him getting hard. Yeah, something definitely moves in his joggers. He’s nodding off and jolts awake. He grabs his crotch and mutters, “fuck,” before he remembers you're there. You shift positions to lie on your stomach, facing him, with your ass exposed so he can see your butt cheeks.

“Go to sleep, darlin’. God damn.” Your heart flutters. Oh, now he’s done for.

“You sure?” You ask and go into a cat pose with your ass higher in the air.

“Yeah.” His eyes are half shut. He tries to be subtle about slowly rubbing himself for relief, but you can see just fine. “Fuck-” he interrupts himself with a yawn. He shakes his head at you. “gave me somethin’, didn't ya?”

You wet your lips and look down. “What makes you say that? Do you feel funny?”

“Like you don't know.”

In for a penny, in for a pound. You shift onto your side, then swing your legs around in front of you as you sit up on the sofa. “Well. . .I feel funny, Mr. Miller,” you purr as you spread your legs for him. “Yeah, I feel funny right here.” You slowly, lightly caress your mound near your clit with two fingers, then spread them to trace down your outer lips.

“Somethin’ wrong with you,” he shakes his head. His brow furrows and he swallows. But he doesn’t leave. . .He looks back at the television. Your body is churning out slick, getting ready for him, but right now it’s going to waste on his sofa. You gather some from your hole and bring it up to your clit. You grab a breast and begin to touch yourself. He’s sleepy, but he's hanging in there. The heel of his palm is planted in his lap.

When he begins to nod off again, you get up and approach the chair. He stays seated, awake but sleepy, and his breath deepens as you brace your hand on one arm of the chair. You wedge one knee between his outer thigh and the chair’s arm. Then the other side, so you're straddling him. You both look down at his visible erection. He looks up. His lips form a subtle pout, then part slightly. His brown eyes glaze over as he studies your face.

“Dress like you want it,” you whisper. He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. You reach for his cock and he gently stops your wrist.

“I could be your dad,” he mutters, more to himself than to you.

“Please,” you whisper. Your hand doesn't stop, and he doesn't try to stop it anymore as you reach. You grab the rock hard protrusion and he silently grunts from the back of his throat. He’s throbbing against your palm through the thin cotton. Your breath hitches at the first contact. You twitch and ache for him. His brow furrows.

“‘If you’re gonna do it, do it,” he challenges you in a near whisper. He must be painfully hard. He can't take it. You massage him through the soft fabric.

Your lips part, and you tilt your head as you read his face.

He mumbles, “Gonna pussy out?” He cracks a little smile and adds, “with your pussy out?”

You sigh. “You’re so fucking cute.”

“Such a rotten girl,” he murmurs with half lidded eyes as his hands come to your thighs. You shiver in a bolt of pleasure as his hands wrap around the backs of your thighs and slowly run down to your knees, then up to your ass. He squeezes your cheeks, and his cock throbs in your hand.

“Coward,” he whispers with a snarl and takes his hands away, resting his arms on the chair.

You brace one hand next to his head on the back of the chair, and your heart shaped locket dangles as you take down his waistband with your free hand. His cock slaps against his white t-shirt, making a wet spot.

Good Lord. Your mouth falls open. You tug the joggers down more. He grunts softly when you cup his soft, fuzzy balls. Then you release them, grab his shaft, and hear yourself moan. Never felt anything stiffer. It's angry and now the tip is actively oozing. Your mouth waters and your body opens up for him.

He watches your face, then yawns again. You rub yourself and gather your slick, then wrap your slippery hand around his cock. You scoot your knees forward and hover over it. He inhales through his nose as you lower yourself to make contact. You pause with the tip just inside. It's already a stretch, but deeper inside, your core is begging for more. Your entrance spasms around his tip. He gasps and tenses, gripping the arms of the chair as you begin to sink down. He closes his eyes and winces as his cock divides your walls and you moan as your bodies become flush. You sit on his dick while your body makes space for him and you get even wetter.

“Fu–ohh” he tilts his head back. His neck veins strain. He's so goddamn hot.

You slowly tilt your hips and let out only an inch of him before bottoming out again. His cock takes up so much space inside you. You look down between your bodies. His white shirt has ridden up to expose the happy trail and the slight pudge of his lower belly. His stomach heaves with deep breaths. You begin to move on him, slowly.

“Ahhh, fuhh-uhhhk,” he sighs. His brows knit together and he watches you ride him.

You tilt your hips, seeking the pressure of your clit nudging his body. “Yeah,” you breathe and move a little faster. Your necklace swings, the silver heart getting closer and closer to him. Then his hand flies up to wrap around your neck, trapping the chain. His grip isn’t firm, but the presence of his hand around your throat is enough to freeze you on his cock and give you a surge of need. Your pussy spasms, your slick walls begging for the friction they've earned.

“You’re sick,” he mutters, then his hips punch up and he sighs. He lets go of your throat, then tugs your shirt down under your tits.

“Fuck,” he sighs, the corners of his mouth glistening with saliva. He reaches out and palms your breasts, then hooks his hands under your arms. He watches your tits move with your rhythm.

“How many times have you thought about this,” you ask.

“I don't think about it,” he claims, but his face says constantly. You massage your own breasts as you ride him, and he sighs. Hopefully he can't get enough. Hopefully he comes back for more. You roll your hips with a moan. That's why you didn't use a roofie - He needs to remember this. He needs to need it. “Mmm.” Maybe he’ll be desperate, mad. As he watches you ride him, his eyelids begin to droop again. Maybe he’ll be mad enough to take it.

You gently slap his cheek. “Stay with me,” you command, and begin to ride him harder. You slot your fingers into his hair. “When's the last time you came,” you ask, massaging his scalp as you move on his cock. “Hmm?” You pause with his cock all the way inside, and he twitches inside you. “Hmm?”

“Days,” he whispers. You start rolling your hips again. “Been days, ohhh–fuck.”

“You're gonna come inside,” you nod. His cock twitches again.

“Ohh, fuck. Are you–ohhh,” he sighs, “are you–ugghh.”

“It's okay,” you reassure him, “It's okay.” God, the thought of Mr. Miller nutting in your cunt has gotten you over the edge so many times alone. You're close. You bring your body closer against his and grind your clit into him, your body moving his swollen manhood, subtly rocking it as your clit presses into his pubic hair and your insides swell with the pressure of pent up pleasure. “Ohh, God,” you sigh and feel your body tighten, tighten, almost there. “Ohh, fuck,” you pant.

“Ohh,” he moans and his hips lift under you. The tension snaps and your clit pulses, making you whine. You grind into him as you pulse, release pressure, pulse, release more, losing yourself in waves of release.

“Oh, God,” you moan, fluttering around his stiff cock.

“Ugggh,” he groans and his hands come to your ass. He begins to move you on his cock as your climax wanes. He moves you harder and moans unrestrained. He grits his teeth, and his fingertips dig into the plush of your ass. ”Ohh,” he sighs and fucking erupts.

“Oh shit,” you whine, and keep clenching around him with warm bursts of him flooding your core. “Ohh God.”

“Oh, fuck,” he pants, bursting again and again, filling you with his seed. “Ohhh,” his pulses fade and you come to a rest in his lap. He lays back against the chair breathing heavily. You lean forward and hug him. He doesn't have the energy to push you away. Soon, he's snoring and you're just sitting there enjoying the fullness of his cock and cum.

“Mmm,” you sigh softly and begin to push yourself up. You let his cock out and some of his cum comes with it. You scoop it up from around his tip and draw a heart on his shirt, imagining how cute it'll be when it's dry and hard. Then you get off the chair entirely and draw a few small hearts of cum on his joggers. You pull the waistband up for him, then plant a kiss on his lips before leaving him there. Then you go back upstairs and put on your underwear before you get back in his daughter's bed.

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Thank you so much for reading, ILY 💖 If you really like dark reader, you might wanna try my ghostface series every inch (there is also some power struggle/shift).

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I hear you about notifs not working, i hear you about tags not working (i'm not receiving a lot of my tags either). consider checking my fic notifs blog @toxicfics or the "latest fics" link on my profile header once in a while to see what you might have missed.

: @silkiers @eiviea @evyiione @queerly-anxious @chernayawidow @ambassadortotrilliusprime @fandomsfallnomore @djarinxore @blackvelveteen1339 @manazo @taeslarityy @str84pedro @lokanda @kyloispunk @filthfairy @fieryglutenfreechickennoodles @harriedandharassed @moonlightdivine @worhols @fan-fiction-floozy @cutesyscreenname @weddingfairy @pedropascal-whore @spideysimpossiblegirl @feministfanboi @prettypartyfavor @am-3-thyst @babeincolor @switchbladedreamz @within-the-depths @may-machin @sloanexx @paleidiot @yourmistysecret @bean-is-reading

#bfd!joel miller #joel miller x reader #cw dubcon #tw dubcon #dead dove december 2023 #dead dove #joel miller smut #dark!reader #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x f!reader #best friend's dad!joel miller #toxicanonymity ☠️

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pupcuck · 4 months

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tw - sa mention, noncon mention, dark content discussed briefly but not explicitly

hi okay sorry for the unfathomable amount of bullshit clogging the tags the past few days. i keep seeing it labelled as gilfhub drama which is pissing me off as i haven’t said anything at all, i’ve stayed quiet throughout unless you follow me and read my posts. while i haven’t outwardly inserted myself into the situation im the one being witch hunted ig, i’m making one last statement which sounds way too serious for this corny and unserious situation.

anyway, i'm mostly making this for my own benefit, because i would feel more at peace after posting this lmfao. first of all, I’m being called a pedophile which is a fucking insanely serious claim to make with no concrete evidence! i’ve never written underage characters. if you’ve mistaken my ddlg content as pedophillia i beg you to get your brain checked! your skull must be so thick it couldn’t be caved in with a baseball bat. other than that i mainly write about LEGAL age gaps bc I am 19 and leon is fucking 47 as of now he is the creep actually.

i’m being called a rapist and a paedophile and all sorts of shit. im a victim of sa, it’s happened both at the hands of someone i trusted and at the hands of those i didn’t know well. some of my writing is to cope with this, none of my fics have ever romanticised rape and made it seem like something flowery and cute and fun? i don’t know who pulled that out of their ass but my fics that involve this sort of content are usually about toxic codependent relationships, it’s quite literally about trauma bonding.

this moves me onto my next point - people say this content belongs on ao3 and ao3 only. i don’t know if you’re 11 and new to the internet, to re fandom in fact, as dead dove has been a consistent theme within re fics since forever. since i was a kid i saw fics like that and even as a fucking 10 year old i managed to scroll and mind my business. tumblr has always had dead dove, when it rebranded and the guidelines changed they messed up their tagging system. this means that even if you tag tw incest it’ll remove your fic from the TAGS not from tumblr itself but from the tags as a whole. however, if you tag tw noncon your fic will stay up, it’s glitchy and dumb and shouldn’t be seen as a reliable source on why dead dove isn’t allowed on tumblr. that’s never been the case ever.

people who write dead dove don’t have to be victims and they don’t have to be mentally ill, they are also normal people with jobs who pay taxes and have normal fucking lives. because it’s simply fiction. people who read/watch american psycho are not murderers or rapists. people who watch any form slasher horror are not murderers. people who enjoy resident fucking evil and like wesker don’t fucking believe in eugenics. i could go on and on and on and on about so many different examples in extremely popular franchises.

as aforementioned, tumblr’s tagging system fucking sucks, so to combat this i give a warning even AFTER i explicitly tag my fics correctly that says ‘tumblr has started to remove fics that use tw non-con, tw incest and any nsfw tags in general. for this reason, as i’d like my fic to appear in the tags so i can have the same reach as other authors, please understand that this fic contains dark content under the cut. reading this comes at your own risk.’ for some reason I didn’t specify remove from the TAGS not from TUMBLR because tumblr doesn’t care 😭 that was totally my mistake for not checking if that disclaimer made sense but i guess i hoped the following sentence (‘as i’d like my fic to appear in the tags’) made it clear that i was simply speaking about tags. not tumblr removing my content.

if you are genuinely adults on this app, you should know that on the internet sometimes you will see things you don’t like! because it’s the internet and everyone is on here with their own opinions and their own tastes. it is YOUR responsibility to cater to your own needs by blocking content you don’t enjoy. so what another dark content blog pops up? as soon as you see a content warning you don’t like, BLOCK THE AUTHOR? or ignore it! scrolling is very simple. it’s insanely easy to mind your fucking business.

i'm kind of tired of the endless harassment both in the tags and in my inbox! if you are genuinely doing this in the name of victims and in their best interest just know you’re harming other victims in the process 😭 i am not easily triggered but the shit in my inbox is really gross and i got called a racial slur like… is fictional content that’s easy to block so deep to the point where you have to stoop that low? everyone copes how they cope, it’s not wrong and it never will be, psychologists recommend dark content as an outlet, you can literally google this. therapy is not a fix, it can’t fix mental illness. sometimes it doesn’t help. in my case counselling made everything worse. the ‘get help, get therapy’ comment comes from a place of privilege, not all of us have the money, the support system it takes to get therapy. some of us have had experiences where therapists discriminate against us. in my case that has happened, im a woc in britain they don’t care about us not about our psychical or mental health LMFAO.

im sure im missing a lot of what i originally wanted to say here, but overall i honestly wanted to clear my name of the pedo allegations lmfao because i’ve never written anything like that about underage characters or readers. anyway if any of you have a brain you can block dark content creators in a few easy steps! sorry again for yapping in such a formless, inarticulate way but i'm kind of exhausted by all the stupidity 😭

overall, dark content creators shouldn’t be allocated a little hovel in the corner of the internet in which they should privately discuss matters. we’re allowed to post it freely because CONTENT WARNINGS EXIST. dead dove will always be a thing and always has been. just because i post my content doesn’t mean it’s open for harassment and death threats and rape threats or anything? you can be an adult and get on with your day! and if you really need an outlet go talk to friends with the same opinions as you! i see ooc leon fluff all the time everyday and i don’t give a shit, i move on because leon isn’t real.

i pride myself on characterisation and if you have so obsessively read my fics to point out and circle random words in red that don’t correlate like we’re in a fucking crime show, then you would know that half the time i actually flesh out his character, i hate posting smut alone. i simply like exploring topics that are dark both to cope with my own problems and because i think they’re interesting to write about. however, as soon as something is mildly dark and sexual you guys cry mischaracterisation. leon also isn’t lighting candles and throwing rose petals but I don’t fucking judge what people write because if I don’t like I don’t read!

i promise, posting screenshots of my fics untagged with no warning is more harmful as you’re showing it to people who didn’t ask to fucking see it. i promise that harassing me will do nothing for you, you’re literally just sending vile shit to a real person who has struggled with the things she writes about LMFAO sorry again for yapping. i genuinely want to move on and post my regular shit but this has consumed the entire leon tag and i feel like im partly responsible. if you did get through this thank you! it’s mainly just ramblings and not read over so excuse me once again

#leon kennedy x you #leon s kennedy x you #leon s kennedy x reader #leon kennedy imagine #leon s kennedy smut #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy smut #resident evil x reader #resident evil smut #tw sa mention #tw discourse

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gentlebeardsbarngrill · 2 months

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02/19/2024 Daily OFMD Recap

TLDR; Cast & Crew; Rhys Darby; Con O'Neil; Kristian Nairn; Samba Schutte; Wee John Wondays; LubeAsACrew; Stats/Trends; Fan Spotlight; Engagement Prompts; LoveNotes; Daily Darby/Tonight's Taika

Hey All, today's been an off day for me, so please let me know if I've missed something. Hope you all had fun!

= Cast & Crew Sightings =

== Rhys Darby ==

Well, our goofball of a captain is back with more Red Dead Redemption II, check out Part 2 below:

youtube

Rhys also did comedy at Bourbon Room Hollywood last week, and = tmiddendorfphoto on IG captured quite a lot of photos of his set. Feel free to visit them:

== Con O ' Neill ==

Whoops! I had this prepped for yesterday then completely forgot, sorry Con! Con was out seeing BettyRules in NYC!

== Wee John Wonday ==

Kristian had Samba on WJW Today! Lots of cool stuff they chatted above! If you're unable to watch right now, there's a small breakdown of various high points below:

View this post on Instagram

A post shared by Kristian Nairn (@kristiannairn)

instagram

Highlights/Things We Learned:

Samba baby's name is Ocean

Samba was kind enough to stand in for WJW when someone else had to drop off for work.

Samba loves giving Kristian middle names: Kristian Victoria Nairn / Kristian Alexander Nairn / Kristian Valaria Nairn, Kristian Venereal Disease Nairn / Kristian Damien Nairn / Kristian Nicholas Nairn / Kristian Tabitha Nairn

There were live doves that would shit on you on set, and they shat on Samson

Kristian was a professional Chef

Samba wants to do Cryptic Factor w/Rhys

Samba is big into ufo's and cryptids

Kristian is also into paranormal stuff

Kristian - In New Zealand saw weird things on the lawn of his rental place (weird creatures focused on the balcony of his room)

David Fane - ate all the cheese in Calypso's Birthday

They really appreciate all the fans trying to save OFMD and would LOVE to get a season 3, even if only for 2 hours.

Samba would like ot do a bts/blooper combo but has to get permission first

For the wrap party, the cast members got each other gifts:

Samson got everyone crocs

EDIT: David Fane gave them Samoan necklaces (ty @denizbevan)!

Kristian said his "Gifts got stolen"

Samba gave them pictures / BTS videos

Q: Who was most elusive in regards to BTS?

Joel - also Ewan

Q: Favorite Soup?

Sambas favorite Soup - Chicken Noodle (chicken soup)

Kristian's favorite Soup - Cream of Tomato

Q: Did anything change with Roach in S2?

Yes, he became softer / trusting

Q: Lots of great energy and hanging out between crew members and family, (not something often seen) what do you think led to that?

Casting director Alison Jones - awesome at casting

Energy on set was positive and acceptance from the get go that helped

Sailing training, stunt training, sword fighting together helped bonding

Everyone on the cast was odd, and people moved out together so lots of small found family situations

Long hours together

Note: Stede's story time everyone is actually asleep, cause they've been up for like 18 hrs

Q: What's your favourite dessert, that you could live off forever?

Roach - Chocolate Mousse, really fluffy and airy

Kristian - Black Forest Cake

Q: What was best part of working in New Zealand?

8 hr days instead of 18 hrs days

Nature was gorgeous

Maori Elders did a land blessing

Q: Roach played a lot of roles, what do you think was his main role?

Cook, Doctor, therapist in that order.

Q: Would Aamba release a cookbook?

If enough interest, Yes - OFMD Cast Favorite Cookbook

And Mac and cheese recipe

Cakes and desserts

Q: What's it like being a new dad?

Amazing , no time to catch breath, feeling a lot of protectiveness and excitement and energy to step up and take care of the kiddo So fulfilling, Sambas a great dad.

Original Script / Deleted Scene Stuff:

In original script: Roach was going to end up with the crew of revenge, but then changed the script cause Samba would look like a kid who stole his dads jacket, so Frenchie was cap

Originally Zheng called the crew "beta" instead of "tender" but they changed it.

Innkeeper deleted scenes:

Everyone's eating soup on deck, roach was supposed to be serving people soup, and Fang says "Ah, Leroy, I'm so glad you're alive?" and Lucius goes "I'm sorry do you think my name is Leroy?"

Oluwande was crying, Jim asks if he was, he says no he gets that thing when he's around grass, and Jim says "A yeah lots of grass around here"

Other deleted scene:

Kristian saying "its sizest" doing big guy stuff

And roach says he's stuck doing tall skinnhy guy stuff

Pete asks if he's stuck doing bald guy stuff

More Deleted scenes:

Ewan zip lines over first and yells: "I was born to fly"

Roach zip line screams quietly cause they tell him to be quiet, and then he lands and says, "why its so sticky I wanna go back", and he tries to get back on the rope but Frenchie flys in and knocks him over.

Another Delete scene:

Wee John was going to dress up as cupid, would have encouraged Stede and Ed, who would have danced to "At Last" and then when and boned.

== Samba BTS ==

In honor of Wee John Wonday's, Samba added some more BTS starring Kristian, and shared the video he talked about in WJW regarding Kristian's birthday.

== Lube As A Crew ==

Astroglide sent @Seven_Sugars a carepackage for a lovely review!

== Stats Stats Stats / Trends ==

Thank you @meowzawowza_ as usual for the awesome insight!

Trends! Thank you @merryfinches and @debphotog for catching these!

== Fan Spotlight ==

For those of you not on twitter, you may not have seen @wndrngnomad's collage's she's been doing each day for the cast members! They go back quite a while so I'll add them all to the repo, but they kind enough to give me permission to share them with the everyone outside of twitter!

== Engagement Prompts ==

Over on Instagram @saveofmdcrewmates have some engagement prompts for tomorrow: #CrossoverCruesday. Time to switch it up! What is your fantasy crossover beween another show and OFMD? Crossover AU anyone?

== Articles ==

Special thanks to @heide79728 on Twitter for sharing all these international headlines!

HBO MAX "praised the loyal audience that engaged with the series and contributed to building an interactive community around it." - Article in Arabic

"14 Recommended Series-fans are already deeply engaged in a massive campaign to encourage another network to buy the rights and produce another season to give the story the ending it deserves" - Article in Hebrew

== Love Notes ==

Hey lovelies.

Have you had any water lately? Did you get to go outside and take a walk? Please remember that you need breaks sometimes, even if they're only a few minutes here or there.

You deserve rest-- and when things get rough, your brain needs a couple minutes to reset. Remember to take care of yourself and practice some self-care.

Self care means fun too!

Do something you enjoy that makes you smile. I'm not a fan of sticker/sticky things-- but I know a lot of people who love googly-eyes so I figured this was appropriate.

Anyway, gnight/gday crew, have a lovely one.

== Daily Darby / Tonight's Taika ==

I think I've done this Darby one on these recaps before, but I needed to have a theme tonight, and the them is well, I think you know. Yes that is Taika in the stash, from "Boy".

#Instagram #ofmd daily recap #ofmd daily recaps #daily ofmd recap #daily ofmd recaps #our flag means death #adopt our crew #save ofmd #ofmd #taika waititi #samba schutte #con o'neill #david fane #joel fry #ewen bremner #rhys darby #ofmd bts

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tomssexdoll · 30 days

Note

I HAVE A REQUEST!!

Subby Tom.. BUT!!

Okay so subby Tom but he calls the reader mama..? i’ve seen that in a few bill fics and i js love the idea

Yess!

Pissed off

PAIRINGS: Tom 2009 x Female reader CONTENT: angst at the start, smut and a little bit of fluff at the end SYPNOSIS: You come home from a party, pissed off with Tom for letting a girl openly flirt with him right in front of you. A/N: i cant lie im not the best at doing men as subs but i'll try my best tysm for the request <3 WARNINGS: yelling, arguing, tom!sub, reader!dom, edging ig?, p in v (riding), eating punani

I walked into Tom and I's shared apartment, slamming my keys onto the kitchen bench and storming off into the bedroom, "i can't believe you let that fucking bitch just flirt with you right in front of me!" I screamed.

"Baby I'm sorry..I just didn't know what to do.." He said, lying so obviously. I rolled my eyes at his pathetic excuse and just changed out of my skimpy outfit, going into the shower to wash off all the sweat that had accumilated on my body the whole night.

As I finished my shower, I stepped out and wrapped myself in a towel, nearly forgetting tonights events when I saw Tom walking in, his head slightly down, waiting for me to finish.

"What do you want?" I snapped at him, glaring deeply.

"I-" he hesitated, a look of fear on his face "I'm really sorry Y/N, you know how much I love you, I would never do anything to hurt you" he whimpered softly.

I felt my legs burn up as he whimpered, thinking of all the things I could do to him.

"Get on the bed." I said sternly, staring straight at him.

"W-what..? Mama..I.." he said, acting dumb to piss me off even more, what a brat.

"You heard me, get on the bed, now." I said.

He winced slightly and sat on the edge of the bed, I sat next to him and started to rub his already noticeable erection, his breathing hitched "m-mama..please" he shut his eyes "don't tease me please..i need you.." he begged, pushing my hand down harder on his hard cock.

I slapped his hand away, his eyes opening widely as I stopped my movements. "Only good boys get what they want, and have you been a good boy?" he looked down at me with puppy eyes, "no.." I chuckled "exactly, so don't push it" I snarled.

15 MINS LATER

I had pulled his cock out, rubbing his sensitive tip with my thumb and teasing him to insanity. He moaned loudly as I slowly jerked his cock off. "Please! Let me cum mama..please.." he whimpered, holding onto my arm as it slowly jerked him off.

"Nuh uh, like I said, only good boys get what they want, and you're not allowed to cum, listen to what mama says.." I continued to stroke softly, pre-cum leaking out of his tip.

"Look at that..so eager to cum?" I swiped my thumb over his tip and licked the precum off, smirking as he nodded quickly. "Aww okay then, since you've been a good boy for me for the past 15 minutes I'll let you cum darling.." I whispered sensually in his ear.

He tried to contain his excitement with a huge smile, it was so cute, he was my good boy. I got up and took my clothes off, starting with my pants and panties, gripping onto both of them and managing to take them both off at the same time. I climbed onto his lap and took his cock in my hand, guiding it to my pussy and slowly sliding it in. I moaned softly and started to ride him.

He threw his head back and held onto my hips as I wrapped my arms around his neck, slamming my pussy into his cock. "Mm..s-so good mama, need you so bad.." he moaned, grabbing onto my clothed breasts. I smirked and took my top off for him, "you wanna suck mamas tits..hmm..?" he nodded eagerly and dove his head into my boobs, latching onto one of them and sucking softly, I moaned and continued to ride him harshly.

"Fuck.." I whimpered slightly, feeling a knot begin to form in my stomach, knowing I was close to my orgasm. I continued to slam my hips down, speeding up the pace.

Tom continued to whimper as my pace got brutal, slamming up and down constantly onto his cock, he let go of my boob and a string of saliva followed, I giggled and looked down at him "such a good boy.." I smashed my lips into his as I bounced up and down repetedly.

"F-fuck..mama..gonna cum.." he held onto my hips tightly as my movements began to slow down slightly. "Come f'me..ok baby?" I looked deep into his eyes, he nodded as he rolled his eyes back, shooting his seed deep into me, his thick cum coating my walls completely. As he came in me I moaned loudly and came on his cock "oh you're such a good boy.." I said in between breaths.

After a bit I got off his cock, he seemed to relax a bit and got up to clean himself. "Excuse me, where are you going? Don't think im done with you yet, come here now." I grabbed his arm "sorry mama.." he said shyly.

I climbed on the bed and sat back into the pillows, spreading my legs wide open, motioning for him to come over. "Eat my pussy baby, cmon." I instructed him, he happily obliged and wrapped his arms around my thighs, licking and sucking on my clit.

"Holy fuck you're so good.." I moaned loudly as he flicked his tongue on my sensitive bud. I could feel him smile on my pussy at the praise.

"Mm..so good mama.." he moaned, continuing to eat my pussy so well, his nails digging into my thighs.

The way his tongue felt on my clit was pure ecstacy, I didn't need to take drugs I just needed Tom to eat my pussy. He was so good at it, no one i've ever been with before has been this good. I smiled to myself, knowing I taught him well. Before me he was hopeless at it, the only thing he knew how to do was use his dick, not pleasuring any woman he was in contact with.

He was slightly dominant at the start of our relationship but I could tell it was a facade, once he got comfortable enough he started to sub, even with our major height difference of me being 5'6 and him being 6'2, it still worked perfectly.

"Cmon baby, make mama cum, doing so good..fuck.." I moaned softly, he quickened his pace and collecting all of my sweetness with his tongue.

He continued to flick his tongue on my clit, suck it and kiss it, I felt a familiar feeling in my stomach "so close baby..cmon.." I whined as he pleasured me deeply, grabbing onto his braids and tugging them slightly. He slightly winced at the pain and went even faster, I rolled my eyes to the back of my head and shuddered as my orgasm washed over me.

Tom moaning as I came, instantly licking everything up, not wasting a single drop.

I caught my breath and pulled away, he looked back up at me and i smiled, seeing his chin glistening with my cum. "Lets clean you up baby cmon.." I got a tissue from the nightstand and cleaned his mouth and chin.

"What do we say?" I pulled him closer "thankyou mama..I love you" he smiled warmly, I kissed him softly "good boy."

E/N: HEY Y'ALL HOW WAS IT?? I hope you all enjoyed cause I put a lot of effort into this, keep on sending requests ily all <3

#tokiohotel #tom kaulitz #tom kaulitz x reader #tom kaulitz x y/n #smut #tokio hotel smut #tom kaulitz smut

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mikrotyalm13 · 5 months

Text

finally translated information about my oc gavriil aghhrhhra most of which was done with help of an yandex translate so yeah.

"So desperate for a presence like mine, yet unable to handle it in real life."

Gavriil / The Reverend.

height: 8'2 ft (without the horns).

calls himself a "guardian angel", but he is, in fact, anything but an angel, and does not serve any gods. he himself is something of a small deity.

does NOT like any form of physical pain and violence in bed, only light spanking and biting. given his height (and ego-), his size is only appropriate. when erect is about 36 cm or 14 inches. but he can, of course, change it as he pleases. absolutely adores the scared looks from much smaller in comparison humans. even if human is not fully prepared for such an intrusion, they will not experience much pain. of course it doesn't goes all the way down to the hilt... but they will feel everything else: the stretch, the fullness. oh, they'll feel it alright.

— stalks people for sport and then seduces them. at first he appears in a person's nightmares, giving them a lil bit of time to get "used" to his presence, watching them constantly until he gets bored. and after some mind games makes himself known in reality. preferably when they're alone, in their bed, in the middle of the night; — tends to sound... manipulative and pushy, and is completely unbothered by human's struggling or fear. says things like "i'm just a friend (другъ). i would never hurt my friend :)", "just let me make you feel good", "you deserve all of this love, every attention, every pleasure - don't you?", "i know you. i know how lonely you are. i know everything that's wrong with you. but you know what? i don't hate you for that", "only i can make you feel good", "i'm only giving you what you desire", "just relax and accept it. it'll be all over soon", "let it happen". not prone to degrading humans, but it doesn't stop him from being cruel and taunting. "ah, you're already too far gone, aren't you?", "such a small, helpless little thing you are right now. a little wiggling worm", "you're mine, little dove. you never had a choice", "shame looks so good on you"; — when calm his body gives off coolness, can be almost impalpable, horny = rock hard, hot like a furnace and incredibly heavy, but can control it, so he won't break anything or squish anyone on accident; — smells like a mixture of funeral pyre, wet wood and forest air. yes, all at once; — during sex, the only noise that you will hear coming from him besides dirty talk, teasing and praising, is the most heaviest breathing. which sounds like it's coming from inside your head. which makes it a little... difficult to fully understand what's happening in the moment. he may not look like it, but always makes sure that you both are alone in the room (even if there's someone in the house), and that no one will catch you; — very graceful despite his sizes, but his presence is very heavy, even if doesn't show himself at first. body so pliant and nice to the touch and all. he's like... meaty?? not skinny at all, very soft and defined muscles. probably has the nicest ass tiddies and thighs (the true holy trinity ig); — knows perfectly well the limits of each human with whom he comes into contact (therefore, he likes to push those limits and boundaries. just a little. just a tiny bit :3); — can see through people's flesh down to their internal organs and past them. unknowingly used this power a couple of times during sex. surprisingly, felt guilty afterwards.

<з: when all attention is on him (will look at you with all of his eyes, pressing his forehead against yours, or hold your face in a way where you can't turn or look away); shameless licking (dragging his long, think tongue from your knee up to your chest, leaving you cold and breathless. absolutely knows what he's doing with his tongue); whispering unintelligible things in your ear/from the dark corners of your room when you're least expecting it (especially lewd things in a language you can understand); when in the heat of the moment humans desperately grab onto his horns/shoulders; cockwarming; breeding (humans can't get pregnant from him); overstimulation; corruption kink; fear play.

#microtya's kids

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tokusaatsus · 1 year

Text

FIRST CRUSH

ft. anzu

warnings: cursing

Anzu knows she’s always been off-putting.

People find her too blunt, too straight-forward, too robotic. Because sometimes there are situations that are chock-full of emotions. Where tensions are running high, and tempers are close to fraying. And the thing is, see, that Anzu just doesn’t get it. It’s not all that difficult to understand, sure. Chemicals and reactions and hormones. Normal stuff you’d expect from a bunch of teenagers packed together in an enclosed space.

But what she can’t decipher is how anyone could let those things control their actions. It’s an entirely foreign concept to her. To feel enough for something that it changes the way you think and act…well, for someone who prides herself on her level-headedness, it’s unthinkable.

Trickstar was a start.

Four boys who all felt so much. Four boys who made her feel too. It’s what gave her the strength to push through.

Still, it wasn’t a huge change. It was barely-there, and Anzu can tell that while some people have picked up on it–on her–they tend to be in the minority. Because there’s nothing in the world so far that has made her react outwardly.

Nothing until you.

The first time Anzu lays eyes on you, she drops a stack of papers onto the floor. They explode in a burst of white–not unlike Hibiki-senpai’s dove feathers scattering everywhere. Hokuto-kun looks at her with concern, but she’s too busy gaping in shock. There’s colour rising in her cheeks and her heart is jackrabbiting in her chest and that’s…never happened before.

Your fingers brush, a little, as you both bend down to pick up some fallen sheets, and Anzu swears there are fireworks trapped behind her ribcage that are attempting to be set free.

“Are you okay?”

“I…” Anzu stares at you blankly, captivated by your face. She was supposed to say something, she knows, but she can’t remember what it was. She’s fine, Hokuto-kun answers for her, pushing her aside the way they’d practiced before, a crash course in what to do when she gets overwhelmed. Normally, she’d appreciate it but right now? She feels miffed. Just a little bit…

“Oh, well, I’m glad.” You giggle softly, and Anzu feels her cheeks heat up. What in the…? “We wouldn’t want anything bad to happen to such a cute and hardworking girl, right?”

Unable to properly produce any words, she simply nods, a little shell-shocked.

“Then… I’d best be off! I’ll see you around, okay?”

“Y-yeah…” Anzu attempts a smile. You smile back, brighter then the fucking sun, blowing her a kiss as you jog down the hallway. She flushes as her brain goes in circles as it tries to articulate how to respond, before simply waving at your retreating back, albeit a little weakly.

“What was that about?” Hokuto-kun mutters, a tad confused, but Anzu is too busy pondering. Red cheeks…elevated heart rate…stammering…butterflies in her stomach… All those signs (and more) point to only one thing.

Oh my god, she thinks. I have a crush.

notes!

WC: 500 words

reze txt I LOVE ANZU GRAAAAH SHE IS MY WIFE !! and so this was born. um. i hope u enjoy? sorry for writing content catered entirely to me ig…

taglist: @prpne @gabirii @kazemiya @engurishu @kkomaism @ophanem @mikctp @lilikags @lolthia

#✒️…scribbles!#anzu x reader #enstars x reader #anzu ensemble stars #enstars #esworks

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i-eat-worlds · 3 months

Text

Always Kid, Always

Or: I rewrote Pat’s death scene

This is pretty heavy, so mind the warnings and read at your own risk!

Thanks to @snaillamp for helping with medical things. They’ve got an ask Enjar game going on, go check them out!

cw: major character death, graphic depictions of mortal injuries, blood, brief mentions of other bodily fluids (vomit, urine), medical treatment, institutional indifference to human life, emotional whump, hurt no comfort, grief, guilt, Dead Dove Do Not Eat

Pat has been condemned.

The human capital council voted 3-2 to deploy her, along with the rest of Turquoise. He and Henle had gone up on the stand, two years worth of medical records with him, and told them in no uncertain terms that this will likely kill her. Her powers are tearing her body apart. It’s not just her nerves anymore, it's her blood vessels and internal organs and muscles and bones. Any use of her powers could be her last.

They agree with them. They say it’s dangerous for her. They also say that this villian, whatever the fuck his name is, is more dangerous “For everyone,” they say. It’s bullshit. They have other heroes. Heroes that won’t die. Heroes that can’t die.

The mission is stupid and dangerous and everybody knows that. It doesn’t matter. It’s for the greater good.

Joseph, though he hates it, though he knows it’s selfish, can’t help but think “fuck the greater good.”

He doesn’t hunt down any of the council members. He doesn’t slam them against the wall and yell at them until he’s red in the face because it won’t change anything.

Pat has been condemned.

***

The locker room is utterly depressing

The normal banter is gone, replaced by oppressive silence. Everyone suits up slowly, painfully, speaking only to ask “can you zip me up?” or “can you buckle this for me?” His medic patch feels more obtrusive then normal, like an annoying itch that won’t go away. The already heavy bag feels crushing.

Pat’s hair is done up like it normally is, tightly pulled back in two french braids so it will t under the helmet. As she laces up her boots, he can see the black and orange compression socks she’s wearing underneath.

She catches him looking and smiles, the corners of her green eyes crinkling.

He tries not to puke. It’s awful.

The helipad is worse. They’re up high, the city spread out around them, as they wait for their ride. Pat stands next to him, chewing on her lip. He turns to her.

“If you don’t want to go inside, we’ll find another way. I’ll take the heat. Martin’ll take the heat. Henle’ll take the heat. We will keep this off you.”

She dips her head. “It’s okay. They picked me for a reason. This dude? What he made? It’ll kill you.” Her eyes glimmer with tears. “I can’t let that happen.”

He could say the same.

“We can abort. I will fight for you on this, Pat. All of us will.”

“No.” She shakes her head. “He’s dangerous. For everyone. I signed up for this. I knew what I was getting into.” The helicopter roars overhead. “It’s for the greater good.”

It’s too loud, and they have to stop talking.

***

The villain’s base looms on the horizon. It’s boring looking, like some sort of factory or warehouse, but it's not.

Warehouses don’t have lasers.

The building is mostly empty, because even villains know that you should try to protect your employees from further harm. Per the plan, Pat charges straight into the heart of the compound, hands on fire, eyes glowing, and very tachycardic.

Even though they can’t see her, it’s obvious where she is. Just follow the violent thrum of energy and the rumbles reverberating through the floor. It shakes the whole building, rattling the windows. Pat is busting through door after door after door, but she’s getting there.

For a brief second, there’s a pause. Joseph thinks that maybe she’s made it.

Then, a violent shockwave shakes the building, nearly taking him off his feet.

That’s it. That’s the discharge that will kill her. The clock has started. She’s dying now.

He silences his com, ignoring Martin’s voice ordering them to leave the building, warning that it’s unstable, and goes deeper inside. Running as fast as he can, he traces Pat’s steps, following her path of destruction into the heart of the building.

She’s crumpled on the warehouse’s concrete floor, glass windows blown out around her, lying in a rapidly growing pool of blood. “Pat!” He yells as he approaches, looking her over.

He sees a steady stream of blood oozing out of her leg.

“Hey kid,” He says, kneeling down by her side. “Pat, c’mon.” He quickly ties a tourniquet around her mangled left leg, trying to stem the bleeding. She screams as he tightens the windlass and clips it in. He quickly searches for any more major bleeding, hands patting up and down her body while he calls for help. Helicopter. Here. Now.

He finds a jagged hole in her chest. Her sternum seems to be half gone, replaced by a deep pool of red. Fuck.

“Ex-exhale?” She whimpers, eyes wide with worry. Her face is clammy and her breathing is fast and she looks like she’s about to cry.

“Joseph. Call me Joseph, yeah?” he says, tearing open a package of gauze and jamming the contents into her chest. Her blood is warm as it coats his fingers, and it's awful.

The scream is even worse, loud and piercing and heartbreaking. “I know it hurts, just stay with me, yeah?” he says as he keeps packing, watching the gauze turn pink and then red as it’s saturated completely.

There is one thing in this world that can save her right now, and it’s a healer. If he can get her to the helicopter, then maybe she’ll make it. He digs out his IV kit and seizes her arm.

“I-I think I’m gonna..” She says, her breath catching.

“It’s okay, I gotcha,” he says. Her veins are too sunken back. There's no way he’s going to be able to get an IV in.

“I don’t wanna die," she hiccups. “Please, I don’t wanna die.”

His fingers press into her neck and find her pulse. It’s weak and thready. Her breathing is slowing down. She’s dying.

“I’ve got you,” he says, “I’m going to do everything I can to help you.” It’s a lie, because there's nothing he can do. She’s lost too much blood, and she’s bleeding out internally, and there's not a damn thing he can do about it.

“‘M sorry, Exha-Joseph.” Her voice wavers, and she starts to cry even harder. “Please, I don wanna go,” A gasp escapes her blue tinged lips.

He wraps his hand around hers, bloody blue nitrile intermingling with shaking and cold flesh. “It’s okay Pat, I know it’s scary.” He comfortingly squeezes her hand. “I’ll be here to help.”

She whimpers, and she looks up at Joseph again. Her eyes are pleading, and she looks so desperate to keep living. Another tear rolls down her cheek, and she gasps again. “ ‘m, sorry. ‘M so sorry, ‘oseph.”

“It’s okay, you’re amazing, kid.” Tears well in his eyes, and he lets them fall. They both know what’s about to happen. He takes her in his arms, maneuvering her shaking body onto his lap.

“ ‘m sorry I couldn’t be better.” Her words are barely audible, voice raspy. She heaves another breath in, body almost convulsing with the eort.

“You were great, Pat. I couldn’t have been more proud of you.” He smiles down at her as the tears fall freely.

“Thank you, ‘oseph,” she slurs, blinking very, very slowly.

“Always, kid, always,” he chokes out, watching her eyes slide close. Her pulse is still there, but only barely.

“I love you, Pat.” Her breaths are getting further and further apart.“From the moment I met you, I knew you were going to be amazing.” He squeezes her hand, one last time.

A horrid, horrid silence passes over everything. “I’ve gotcha’”

Her chest rises.

“Always, yeah? Fucking always.”

It falls.

It doesn't rise again.

She’s dead.

She’s fucking dead.

The tears come harder, and he lets them. He yells, loudly and painfully. Anger erupts in his mind.

Why her? Fucking why!

Her skin is gray, muscles too relaxed. She looks so…almost…alive. There's a warm feeling on his thigh, where her legs are resting.

She’s pissed on him.

Carefully, he sets her down, closing her lifeless eyes and bowing his head.

Everything hurts. His mind is screaming.

“Exhale to Guardian, Exhale to Guardian,” he says into his coms, half on fire, half numb.

“Guardian on, location and report,” Martin’s voice responds.

He’s quiet for a very long second. “Surge is dead.” He grits his teeth. “Repeat, Pat is dead.”

The words land like a jetliner plummeting out off the sky

Martin orders him to return. They disregard the helicopter.

Everything is very quiet.

It doesn’t feel real.

It is.

***

The ride back is even quieter than the ride there. Everyone sits together, heads held low.

Even breathing seems wrong.

Halfway there, it hits him. This is why INSUPA uniforms are black. To hide the blood of those they let die.

It’s soaked into the lower half of his uniform from kneeling and sitting in it. The piss stain is still drying too, but its not as noticeable. His gloves were so sopping wet that it got under his fingernails. The smell of iron stills burns his nostrils.

He has to look horrible.

The words play over and over again in his mind.

“Pat is dead.”

By the time they arrive at the centre, everyone is crying. No one tries to hide it. It doesn’t matter.

Pat is dead.

Pat is dead and it was preventable.

Pat is dead, and it is partially their fault.

But mostly, it’s his.

He bypasses the locker rooms and starts to march straight for the council's office. They’ll pay for this, he’ll make them. The patch is heavy on his shoulder.

“Joseph, no!” Henle yells at him.

He keeps walking.

They yank him back, pressing him against the wall. “I can’t let you do this.”

“They let her die, Henle, what you let me to do!” Everyone is looking at them. It doesn’t matter.

They lean in closer. “You’re smarter than this.”

“Henle..”

“You charging into that office and punching the teeth out of them will not change anything. Not for the better, anyway.” Their face is deadly serious, though their eyes are bloodshot from crying.

Joseph is silent for a moment. “She’s dead, Henle.” He breaks, fracturing into a million pieces. The tears are like a waterfall. “I sat there, and she was crying and apologizing.” He wipes his eyes. “She said she was sorry.”

Henle pulls him into a hug, and Joseph lets him, still sobbing violently. “She looked so sad. She begged to live. She thanked me.” His mouth gapes open. “This is my fault. If I hadn’t…If I hadn’t encouraged her to…fuck…if I hadn’t…” He slowly melts to the floor, hyperventilating.

They don’t let go. “Hey, shhh, breathe with me, yeah.”

Joseph tries his best, carefully watching their chest, trying to match its movements. “I’m sorry,” he mumbles.

“You’re okay.” They let go, and Joseph relaxes back into the wall. “How about we go get you cleaned up?”

He’s suddenly hyper aware of the dried blood itching his skin. He wants it off.

“Please, yeah.”

As he walks towards the locker rooms, he finds himself crying once again. The anger flares. It’s going to eat him forever.

She didn’t have to die.

Taglist: @pigeonwhumps @rainydaywhump @painful-pooch @rainbowsandwhumperflies

#worlds babbles #whump #major character death #injury whump #blood #medical whump #guilt tw #tw grief #medic caretaker #hurt no comfort #emotional whump #Joseph oc #Henle oc #Pat oc #yeah I’m sorry #Joseph “what’s scene safety” Schneider #have some pain #I hope it makes you cry in the toilet like I did #😭😭😭

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inkblot22 · 2 months

Note

thank you for your response :D

any thoughts on a reader who kept on getting in trouble with riddle for "breaking the rules" (she didn't but he wanted an excuse for them to be alone in the garden having tea) and in frustration, insults him and tries to escape afterwards but ofc is caught by his loyal dogs (cater and trey) and as punishment she'll be forced to be heartslabyul's fleshlight (forever) u refuse? aww sorry but it seems the tea was spiked w a little smt so ur not even aware ur holes are being abused! :)

for azul...it's more of a mafia boss au ... but it also works for nre bes jade and floyd will be chasing after you and tormenting azul's precious little slut <3 aww u got tricked into a deal by a sleazy octopus? too bad you'll have to deal with the consequences! maybe they'll force you into an embarrassing slutty uniform? or a maid uniform? flipping your skirt (to your horror) any chance they get to tease you and threatening you that if you disobey or act out, they'll offer your pussy to all their loyal customers to sample.,

—

I really love your epel work by the way! he is soo scary and gives me the chills in this story and I love your writing style! can't wait to read more to be honest, despite epel not being in my list of favourites I loveee the mask he puts on and how reader sees him for who he really is I'm so ready for crap to hit the fan in upcoming chapters.. oshi no ko is a good story that explores the idol world and lies so it suites epel so well

I can hardly wait for future epel to breed mc … pregnancy kinks r my favs as well …

Hello hello! Your feedback is giving me life, and also same. When I first started playing the game in 2020 (I don't know what tf I was doing because I can't read Japanese except for literally one character, but go off, younger me,) I made a tier list and then some family gremlins broke the computer that stored that file, but I know Epel was C tier for me. Time to do another tier list, ig. As for the breeding, it is coming sooner rather than later. The story being painted will not end with the breedening, as it takes a few days to be able to be aware of conception and the aftermath is often the best part.

The two ideas that you've shared here: The first one reminded me of a pair of headcanons(?) made by @/sinfullyrosey. There's a Fem!reader one and a Male!reader one. This is not me saying that I won't do something with these thoughts of yours, but the first one at least reminded me of these.

FOR THE OCTAVINELLE ONE: that idea just so happens happens to have a somewhat similar plot to one of my more personal writings that I have been contemplating editing so I can post it here. My personal writings tend to be self-inserts, and I entirely admit to having a rather distinctive appearance, but it wouldn't take long to either adapt the story or change the details to be less specific. If I do so, I'm going to tell you right now that that fic will have blackmail, bullying, and be Dead Dove, Do Not Eat. Yk, contractural obligations and all that.

#anon asks #anon answered #thank you for sending an ask!!#tw: dark content #twisted wonderland #disney twst #tw: dark themes #tw: yandere #the blot talks!#twst #yandere

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enviedear · 1 year

Note

I keep having this thought of where if james and reader were to break up he'd still send her gifts, like on her birthday or their anniversary date.

was wondering if you could write something of the sorts, where the reader confronts ig

thanks xxx

omg yes with the money that man has— yeah his love language would totally be gift giving. like if he sees something and thinks of you he will totally buy it. ahh i love this idea so much !!!

0.8k words | made this fluffy and james is indeed a reader-worshipping whore + use of the petname, dove :)

you stare that the package in front of you, before bringing your attention back to james. he stares back with a barely contained smugness.

"why?" you ask, eyes narrowed.

he hums, "why not? you deserved it."

you want to laugh, beyond accustomed to these gifts from james. the pair of you had been separated for almost six months now, but he was finding himself back into your life in any way he could. be it your birthday, valentines', or presently, your anniversary— or what used to be your anniversary.

he had rung your doorbell just ten minutes prior, a beautifully wrapped present in one hand and a fresh bouquet of assorted flowers. he looked like something out of a romance novel. his usual grin had grown larger at the sight of you, and you couldn't deny the ember it sparked in your chest.

"we're not together anymore, james." you stated, a hint of annoyance mixed in with your casual tone.

if your tone offends him, he doesn't show it. instead, you watch him place his gifts on the credenza beside you, to allow his hands to find yours and he looks at you with an earnest sense of care.

"you were mine once, and you know i'd do anything for you to be mine again." his voice is calm, steady, and low. you focus on the veins of his hands so that you don't have to look him in the eyes.

james continues on, "you know i love you," you feel one of his hands release yours, finding its way to your chin, forcing you to look up at him, "just let me show you."

you shut your eyes, huffing a small laugh, "you're ridiculous." when you look back at him, you don't miss the way his eyes shift from your eyes to your lips.

he pulls away from you, complacent evident on his features, "open your gift— i'll go put these in a vase."

with a quick kiss to your forehead, he walks away from you and into the kitchen. you grab the box, draped in soft lavender wrapping and dainty bows, and run your fingers across the details.

your turn it over and can't help but to fade into yourself when you find james' handwriting. it's large and ununiform but it is intrinsic to him.

'my dove,

for an occasion forever special

yours, james'

you unwrap the box and let the paper fall to the floor. you feel a sense of joy, far removed from the annoyance you previously felt. the feeling is welcomed, you can't help it, you liked this little game james was playing.

because despite the downfall of the relationship, nothing had truly changed. he continues to show you he cares, that you mean something beyond words to him— and that, has a profoundly intense effect on you.

you open the box and scan the array of objects. you find old pictures from the first year you became his, collections of years' old notes dating back to school years, and a cassette tape with the words, 'for you', written atop it.

but beneath it all, wrapped in silk, is a gold ring encrusted with ornate gems. you're in shock as you slip it on, admiring the way the jewels reflect the light. it was utterly perfect.

you feel his presence behind you, arms creeping around your waist. his scent englufs you, a woodsy mix of juniper and faint florals.

he smiles against you, "do you like it?"

you try to hide your awe from your voice, "where did you find this?"

"i had it made, dove." he confesses, voice soft.

you feel yourself melt at his words. he was making this breakup impossible. you turn to him, wordlessly, and wrap your arms around his neck. your movement pulls the two of you closer and you feel your face grow hot.

you can't stop the words from rolling off your tongue, "you're making this difficult."

he seems to think about your words intently before responding, "and is that a good or bad thing?"

humming, you say, "i haven't decided yet."

he pulls you closer, eyes full of mirth. he leans down until lips are brushing against yours, "question?"

you feel lightheaded, eyes now closed as you speak, "yes?"

he laughs lowly, "forget the breakup— and i'm yours."

"you're already mine." you counter, a smirk etching onto your features. because he was, entirely. you had denied him for months now, and here he stood, still intent on you.

james seems to enjoy your comment, because, in seconds his lips find your own. you had missed the taste of his lips, sweet like honey. the kiss is deep, yearning, and all consuming. his hands now rest on your hips and yours tangled in his curls.

he groans into you as you nip at his bottom lip and you grin, pulling away to smile up at him, "fine."

he looks at you, slightly confused, so you add, "i want you to be mine, again."

he hums, smirk on his face, "and all it took was a kiss?"

you laugh, "the presents may have helped."

#james potter blurb #james x reader #james potter x reader fluff #james potter x y/n

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charturnus · 2 years

Text

The warmest bed I've ever known

Ship: Wanda Maximoff x Female Reader

a/n: We're not going to talk about my upload schedule... I will however tell you that this fic is about to take a sharp left turn into smutland now that the groundwork is put down.

Warnings: slight mention of child abuse; terrorism mention; death mention; alcoholism mention; mommy issues (not of the fun variety); light angst; thunderstorms (ig 😭)

Summary: Chapter III; Did you get enough of love, my little dove? AU

Wordcount: 6.1k

Your bed is cold, but her arms are warm. The one where you sleep together, but not like that.

Previous chapter

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I wake to the fast-paced clicking sounds of Wanda’s keyboard and sunlight streaming in through the partially opened curtains.

Through the lids of my closed eyes, I can see the brightness permeating the room, the light shining onto my closed eyes makes the emptiness shine a dull red. For a while I lay completely still, my eyes still resolutely shut. I bask in this little moment of reprieve, enjoying the softness of the sheets, the sounds of Wanda’s breathing and her fingers flying over the keyboard.

I know I cannot stay like this forever, however much I might want to. I must face the events of the previous night, look Wanda in the eyes, and own up to what happened.

When I finally open my eyes, I blink in the harsh sunlight, and I squint up at Wanda. She is sitting with her legs crossed, her laptop propped up between them, her hair clipped messily to the top of her head. This is the first time I have seen her without any makeup, and with the light shining on her face, her freckles are standing out more than ever.

My heart flutters at the sight of her, her delicate fingers with her red painted nails, her teeth biting down on her lower lip, the mess of strawberry red hair. She looks like a painting. I want to take a photograph right this moment, and remember her like this forever. Unbidden, I let out a sigh, a sound of delight, of reverence for this moment.

Wanda’s head turns at the sound, and she looks me square in the eyes. Instantly, my cheeks fill with heat. Caught you, Wanda’s look seems to say. I feel rather like a child caugth with their hand in the cookie jar.

‘’Oh, honey.’’ She chuckles, apparently taking note of the guilty expression on my face. ‘’Is waking up in my bed really so bad?’’ She teases.

My cheeks grow even warmer at this, and suddenly I am very much aware of how my nightdress has ridden up well past my hips. I hug the sheets tight to me. ‘’No of course not!’’ I say rather sheepishly. ‘’It’s just that- you know, last night..’’ I trail off, trying (and failing) to search for the correct words, for the right way to apologize for the mess she had walked in on.

‘’Don’t you worry about that.’’ Wanda says firmly, her eyes are gentle but her tone leaves no room for argument. ‘’It’s done now. Let it go, little dove.’’

Slowly, I nod my head, letting her words sink in. I don’t have to explain myself or ask for her forgiveness. I am allowed to let it be. I wonder if Wanda knows how heavy this burden weighs on me, and how relieving it is to be given permission to let it go. I wonder if she knows that I would have allowed this to hang over me, tormenting me with guilt for days on end.

‘’Thank you.’’ I whisper. ‘’Don’t worry about it.’’ She says again, her nose scrunching up affectionately in that way that makes my heart leap every time. With a playful smile, and a wink, she lets the topic end there.

Moving on, she motions with her head towards her laptop screen. ‘’Guess what?’’

‘’What?’’ I say, grateful for the change of topic.

’’Pepper has put me on house arrest for a week.’’

I’m in the middle of shimmying my nightdress back down to an appropriate length and I halt, with the fabric still bunched in my fingers and my dress still barely covering what ought to be covered.

‘’Of the court-ordered kind?’’

Wanda snorts. ‘’I bet that would give Pepper a good laugh. Unfortunately for her, she doesn’t quite hold that much power.’’ She laughs, unclipping her hair and running a hand absentmindedly through it. Quite suddenly, like the striking of a match in the dark of night, I am struck by how soft she looks. Usually she is all crisp suits, stilettos as sharp as the dagger they are named for, and an even sharper tongue.

Now however, she is gentle, soft and rounded around the edges. With her silk pyjamas, dried toothpaste in the corner of her mouth and locks of her hair falling in front of her eyes.

‘’We’ve decided that it’s best if I stay home for the next week, not work at all.’’

This statement shakes me, quite abruptly, out of my reverie. I stare at her in disbelief. If Wanda Maximoff has ever willingly taken a whole week off work, I’ll eat my shoe.

‘’Why would you want to do that?’’ She narrows her eyes at me. ‘’It seems I suddenly have a life outside of my work, if you can believe it.’’ She shuts her laptop with a snap and leans down to slide it into the compartment of her nightstand.

‘’I think you and I have that in common.’’ She says, her voice slightly muffled as she’s bent double and leaning away from me. ‘’And besides- we have to get to know each other, we’ve got a story to sell, remember?’’

***

‘’So let me get straight. You want to play 20 questions with me?’

’I have to fight the urge to laugh, staring hard into the pan of porridge as I stir, trying not to think about how ridiculous this whole situation is. If you had told me a month ago that today I would be making breakfast for my boss and I, after I spent the night in her bed, and that on top of it all she is begging me to play 20 questions with her, I would have redirected you to the nearest ER to have your head checked out.

‘’It’s a fun game!’’ Wanda protests, dipping her finger into the bowl of mashed bananas that I set aside only moments ago. I swat at her grabbing fingers, but I feel my cheeks grow hot as she lifts the digits up to her mouth to lick them clean. I cough to clear my throat, moving the bowl out of her reach.

'’I suppose it would be a good way to get to know each other.’’

‘’It’s the best way! And we have so much to learn about each other, I don’t even know your favourite colour, your sister’s name, or your favourite food. That’s the sort of thing couples need to know about each other.’’ She says, nodding her head seriously.

I scrape the mashed bananas into the milky porridge, smiling to myself. ‘’Well, my favourite colour is pink. My sister’s called Darcy, and my favourite food is sushi.’’ From the corner of my eye, I spot Wanda lifting herself up to sit on the counter next to the stove.

‘’Are those your first three questions?’’ As I turn to look at her, I notice her scribbling in a little notebook, presumably writing down my answers to her questions. I laugh, shaking my head at her. ‘’You’re taking this very seriously, huh?’’

‘’Excuse you.’’ Wanda says in mock incredulity, her hand clutching imaginary pearls. ‘’This IS very serious. You know, if you’re going to be my faux girlfriend for a year, I’m going to need to know you like I know the back of my own hand.’’

My stomach clenches, a swarm of butterflies rising up, their soft wings tickling my insides. My gaze softens, and I can’t stop myself from smiling up at her. She’s trying so hard to make this whole situation into something nice, something fun.

Offering to drive me to my apartment, singing me to sleep, making a genuine effort to get to know me. It’s the most effort anyone has put into me for God knows how many years. The porridge has come to a boil, thickening up, the steam rising from it steadily. I take it off the heat, grateful for the task at hand. I divide it evenly between the two bowls, glad to be able to turn my back to Wanda, so she won’t notice my over-bright eyes.

‘’Alright.’’ I say, turning to hand Wanda her bowl. ‘’I agree, we should know one another well if we’re going to pull this off.’’

I rummage through the cutlery drawer and I fish out two small spoons, sliding one into my own bowl and handing Wanda the other. She gives me a wicked smile, indicating her head towards the sitting room.

‘’Let’s play then.’’

***

An hour later, our empty porridge bowls sit forgotten on the sitting room table. Wanda has pulled out a blanket for us, and we’re curled up on the sofa together, a respectable distance from one another. She has very graciously procured a notebook and a pen for me to use, so that I too can document every bit of information shared.

So far, I have learned that her favourite book is Condensed Chaos, by an author I’ve never heard of before. Her favourite colour, unsurprisingly, is red. She also tells me that has a few close friends, namely, Pepper, a woman called Agatha, and Maria Hill, the woman who now holds my previous position.

I tell Wanda about meeting Maria and mention how I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone called Agatha. She assures me that I’ll be meeting her soon and that I’m sure to like her.

‘’What about your family?’’ Wanda asks casually, after she finishes telling a wild story involving her and Agatha, a hoard of paparazzi and a carton of eggs.

‘’Hmmm?’’ I say absently, watching Wanda’s fingers as they trace little spirals into the fabric of the sofa.

‘’You said you don’t really have a family, what happened there?’’

‘’Oh.’’ I pull up short, frowning. ‘’It’s complicated.’’

Wanda smiles sympathetically. ‘’Yeah, I know what you mean.’’

I turn to her, a realization hitting me quite suddenly. There are no family photos in this house, and I can’t remember ever hearing anything about the Maximoff family.

‘’What about your family?’’ Wanda’s expression turns sombre, and I instantly regret asking about it. But before I get a chance to apologize and take it back, she begins to talk.

‘’I’m a twin.’’

She stays silent for a few moments and I try to take in this new information, my pen hovers over the notebook paper. I don’t write anything down.

'’His name was Pietro.’’

Was. His name was.

‘’Wanda I- I’m so sorry.’’ I say. I’m horrified by this confession, and I wish I could take my question back. How can I express my sorrow for her, when I can’t even begin to understand what it is like to lose someone so integral to your personal identity.

She shakes her head, covering my hand with her own, warming my icy cold skin. ‘’There was a terror attack back in Sokovia when I was young. My parents died during the first wave of bombings, Pietro was killed saving a child from gunfire.’’ She looks out to the open window, at the sky above.

‘’It’s been a long time.’’ She says softly. ‘’I miss him and my parents every day, but life goes on, little dove.’’ She pats my hand, letting out a sigh. ‘’I think you know something about that.’’

I clear my throat, letting the silence stretch on for a few more moments. I don't like to talk about it, not wanting to tear open the old wound. Still, after Wanda’s confession I feel like she of all people is likely to understand what it feels like to have such a messy past. I hesitate wondering what I should say, how much I should tell her.

‘’My mother drank.’’ I say, opting for the most straightforward version of the truth. ‘’She hurt me and Darcy. It was awful. We were removed from her care when I was 7 and she was 16, our Dad took us in.’’

The old memories float up to the surface of my mind, blurry from the passage of time, like a sheet of paper doused in water, the lines are fuzzy, the memory hazy, but the pain lingers.

‘’Dad passed 5 years ago, stomach cancer.’’ Wanda squeezes my hand tightly, and I feel emboldened by it. ‘’My sister got married shortly after, and she left for Switzerland with her husband.’’

‘’It’s lonely, isn’t it?’’ Wanda says, more than asks. I get the feeling she isn’t asking me if I’m lonely, but rather that she’s stating that this is how we both feel.

"Yeah.’’ I murmur. ‘’It really is.’’

‘’Well-’’ Wanda says, her voice louder, cheerier than before. ‘’I guess we’ll just have to keep each other’s company then.’’ She nudges me with her shoulder, pulling a small smile from me. ‘’I think that’s enough misery for today, hmmm?’’ I nod, covertly wiping a few lone tears trickling from my left eye.

‘’Do you want to see a film?’’ I think back to the little private cinema, hidden in the bowels of the house, and nod excitedly.

‘’Question 18.’’ I say, pulling out my pen and notebook once more. ‘’What’s your favourite film?’'

***

We end up watching a few episodes of The Dick Van Dyke Show instead of a film, but I don’t mind in the slightest when Wanda is clearly so excited about it.

I barely pay attention to the show, losing myself in my own thoughts instead. The seats in the cinema are huge, looking more like sofas than chairs, with plenty of room for the pair of us to sit together. One of Wanda’s hands rests absently on my thigh, almost as though she doesn’t realize she’s touching me.

All throughout our time in the darkened room, I let my mind wander, thinking of the year to come and all it might hold. I wonder how long we have before our ‘relationship’ will become public knowledge and my stomach clenches painfully at the thought of lurking paparazzi and nasty magazine articles.

In an attempt to stop myself from spiraling about a future that hasn’t even come to pass yet, I try to think about all the wonderful things that might happen. Attending galas on Wanda’s arm, wearing gorgeous dresses, dinner parties with nameless and faceless guests, Wanda’s arm slung protectively over my shoulder, staging kisses in the backs of limousines.

A pleasant, warm and tingly feeling fills me at those thoughts. Like a blanket wrapping me up, safe and secure. A strange comfort surrounds me and the safety of the darkness emboldens me. Before I have too much time to overthink it, I let my head sink down on Wanda’s shoulder. She doesn’t hesitate, and lays her own head down onto mine, the hand on my thigh giving me a small squeeze.

We watch the rest of the episode like that, in a comfortable silence, connected by the warmth of each other’s bodies.

***

After we have spent a comfortable three hours in the cinema, Wanda takes me out to the large garden where we while away the time by looking at all the beauty the outdoors has to offer and continue our little game, which has expanded well beyond a mere 20 questions.

‘’What’s your love language?’’

Wanda is clipping some blossoms off a tree, to give to a friend of hers, and I have been watching her work in silence. My thoughts wandering to all the things I’d like to know about her. I try to bring to mind a list of questions you should ask someone you’re on a date with, things which are important to know, or things that might be dealbreakers. Is she allergic to cats? Does she want children? What’s her love language?

‘’Hmmm?’’ she humms absentmindedly, as she climbs down from her little ladder.

‘’Your love language’’ I repeat. ‘’How do you show your love for someone?’’

She furrows her brow, contemplating this for a while as she clips little jagged bits from the branch in her hand. ‘’I haven’t thought of that before, I think I show it in lots of ways.’’

‘’For me it’s physical touch and quality time, it’s how I show others I love them but also how I feel most loved myself.’’ The image of myself wrapped up in Wanda’s arms last night, floats to the top of my mind. ‘’Especially physical touch is such a comfort to me and it’s how I try to comfort my loved ones.’’

Wanda’s smiling now, gathering all of her branches together and wrapping it up in a simple cloth, making two bundles. ‘’I figured you like that, even when you were asleep you kept on holding my hand and rolling to my side.’’

I cringe slightly at the thought of this, wondering what Wanda must have thought of me. I don’t quite know what to say to this, so just stare at her, mortified.

She laughs at my expression, her nose scrunching up. ‘’Oh don’t look at me like that, it’s adorable.’’

‘’Adorableness is in the eye of the beholder, I guess.’’ I grumble. She gives me a wink as she hands me one of the bundles of branches, so I can help her carry them.

‘’I think physical touch is my love language too, but I think caring for others is way I tend to really show I love someone.’’

I swallow dryly, and attempt to keep my voice neutral. ‘’Oh? In what way do you care for your loved ones?’’

‘’Just helping them, I suppose.’’ She says, looking up at the rapidly darkening sky above as we make our way slowly back to the house. ‘’Taking weight from their shoulders, whatever that might be.’’

Curiosity takes the better of me and I can’t help but ask, not now the answer is within arms reach. ‘’Is that why you helped me last night?’’

She holds her hands up in front of her, the bundle swaying gently as it hangs from her closed fist. ‘’You caught me.’’ Her gentle smile quickly turns serious, as her eyebrows knit together, her features sympathetic. ‘’It broke my heart when I heard you cry like that. You looked so forlorn, a little bird with a broken wing, all alone.’’

I swallow hard, unsure of what to say, or how to even begin expressing how touched I am by this confession.

‘’I’ve known something isn’t entirely right for some time now, but it never felt appropriate to reach out, you know?’’ I don’t bother answering her, partly because I know it’s a rhetorical question, and partly because she continues speaking only a few short seconds later.

‘’It still feels like it’s not my place, but I couldn’t just leave you alone like that. I just have this- need, I suppose you could call it, to give care… Like I want to scoop you up and keep you safe from whatever it is that made you so upset. Is that weird?’’ She says with a slighly concerned chuckle.

For a moment I am stunned into silence, before I manage to regain my composure. Quickly, I shake my head, even though she isn’t looking at me. ‘’It’s not weird at all. It’s actually really sweet. Nobody’s gone through that much effort for me… It means a lot more than I could tell you.’’

That doesn’t begin to cover half of it, but how am I supposed to express to her the feelings I can’t even hope to understand myself? All I know is that she filled the aching hollow void inside me, she comforted me when I felt that I would never feel comfort again. To me, that act alone is worth more than anything in the world.

‘’You seemed to enjoy it.’’ Wanda smiles fondly. ‘’You slept so soundly, holding onto my hand all through the night. I’m sorry you were so upset, but it made me happy to be able to soothe some of that pain for you.’’ She says this with such sincerity that I can’t even bring myself to be ashamed at the truth of the statement.

I open my mouth, wanting to tell Wanda how warm she made me feel, how her touch warded off the dull aching pain of loneliness. I mean to tell her how last night was the first good night's rest I’ve had in several years and how this entire day has brought me more joy than I have felt in over a month.

But right as I begin to speak, a fat drop of rain hits me square on the nose, followed in quick succession by several others on the top of my head. Before we know it, we’re caught in a sudden, torrential rainstorm.

Shrieking and laughing madly, we bolt for the backdoor of the house, sprinting as fast as we can to outrun the rain. Our shoes make wet slapping noises as we rush over the damp grass and the slippery cobblestone path.

We arrive soaked to the bone in the entryway to the backside of the house. Our hair plastered to our faces, clothes and shoes heavy with rainwater. But in spite of this we are doubled over with laughter at each other’s appearances. We laugh heartily at one another as we try to dispose of our rain logged clothing items, deciding against trekking through the house in our current state. Once upturned, a heavy splash of water runs out from my shoes, and Wanda has to wring out her braid over the old sink.

Our coats are slung unceremoniously over a stack of plastic garden chairs, and Wanda insists we do away with our soaked trousers and socks too. This suggestion brings some heat back into my cold face, but I have to admit it’s the sensible thing to do. Especially as my wide legged trousers are producing a steady trickle of water, and Wanda’s thick socks are making squelching noises as she walks about the room.

Stripping off said items, turns out to be much simpler for me than it is for Wanda. My trousers and socks come off with no struggle at all. But to our great amusement, Wanda’s jeans get stuck halfway down her thighs and within no time we have collapsed in fits of giggles once more. Shaking with laughter, Wanda’s arms are too weak to pull off the heavy denim. So, with my cheeks considerably redder than before, I help her part from the drenched garment.

As she wrings out some of the water from her jeans, she assures me that the wet clothes will be taken care of by the housekeeper in the morning. I nod along, but I’m only half listening. Gooseprickles cover Wanda’s bare legs and I have to execute every last bit of my willpower not to stare at her openly. So as to not get caught, I make myself useful and bend down to gather our shoes which have been dumped unceremoniously as we took them off, each shoe strewn haphazardly about the room. As I snatch up the last of the four shoes and I turn to place them by our coats, I catch Wanda looking at me from the corner of her eye, her head only turned ever so slightly in my direction. But just as quickly as I have noticed, she turns her attention back to the jeans in her hands and I am left wondering if I merely imagined that she had been looking at me.

***

By the time the both of us have showered, dried and changed, almost an hour has passed and we spend the rest of the evening in the living room. Wanda insists on ordering dinner, and when neither of us can decide on a single restaurant, we end up with a weird mix of Greek and Italian dishes.

We fill our evening with stories of our past, sharing titbits of information about ourselves here and there, taking turns telling the craziest stories we can recall.

When the time comes for us to part, I do so with some reluctance. I’d much rather sleep as I had the night before, with Wanda’s steady presence beside me. Not wanting to seem rude or ungrateful, however, I hold my tongue and close the door of my own bedroom behind me.

Outside, the world appears to have been delved into chaos, the shower we had been caught in earlier has developed into a full blown storm. The rain has become significantly more forceful, beating so harshly against the windows of my bedroom that I become worried they might crack. The trees are swaying dangerously, twisting and bending from the force of the winds. Worst of all, a thunderstorm is rapidly making its way in our direction.

From my bedroom window I watch the lightning crackle in distant clouds, and I wait patiently for the rumble of thunder that follows many seconds later.I know that the storm is still quite some distance away, and I hope against all hope that the winds will blow it off course.

Still, an uneasy feeling settles in my stomach. It’s so close to bedtime. Storms this bad scare me even at the best of times, with the ground shaking rumble of the thunder and the flashes of lightning so bright it can illuminate a dark room. At night, however, storms like this frighten me beyond reason. Rationally, I know I am perfectly safe. However, in my vulnerable and tired state, my brain too thick with sleep to think properly, a storm of this size would have me hiding under my bed.

For 40 long minutes I lay in my bed, stiff as a board, holding onto my sheets for dear life, as I listen to the storm approaching. Every second it creeps closer and closer. I count the seconds between lighting and the clap of thunder, trying to gauge how far off the storm is. Rain hammers on my windows, the impact of the droplets making so much noise that I wonder if it might be hail instead. My shoulders and back ache from my muscles being strained for such an extended amount of time, but I simply cannot relax like this, let alone sleep.

10 more minutes pass and I’m certain that the storm is right above us. I am sitting upright on my bed, sheets piled around me, pulled up over my head and my ears, trying to stave off the worst of the sound. Suddenly, a flash of blinding light permeates the room. My curtains are closed and yet the light illuminates the sparsely furnished room as well as my nightlight could. Before I can even begin to count the seconds, the clap of thunder comes. This is not a rumble, but rather an explosion of sound. A boom reverberates around the room, so loud I am certain the lightning must have struck a target.

I am on my feet in half a second, my heart pounding in my chest, panic taking over. I have half a mind to tear open the door connecting my room to Wanda’s, so I can shelter in the safety of her arms. But I think better of it, and tear out into the hallway instead. As I rush down the stairs and into the main hallway I think about hiding in the living room, making a fort out of the sofa cushions, to give myself some semblance of safety.

Before I can get close to the living room however, I spot the light streaming out from the half closed kitchen door. At first I think we accidentally left it on before retiring for the night, but when I push open the door to reach for the light switch, I see Wanda sitting at the breakfast bar with a little book and a pen.

‘’Did the storm wake you up?’’ She says as she notices me standing in the doorway.

‘’Didn’t get to sleep, actually.’’ The quaver in my voice takes even myself by surprise and Wanda too has taken notice. She lays down her pen and looks at me quizzically. ‘’Are you alright there, honey?’’

‘’Yeah.’’ I say initially, before quickly backtracking. ‘’Well- Not entirely. I just don’t like storms.’’ I shrug. ‘’I thought I could hide out in the living room for a while.’’ I decide against mentioning the pillow fort, because I’m pretty sure that sofa costs more than what my life is worth.

‘’You could hide out in my room if you like.’’ Wanda says casually.

‘’I don’t want to saddle you with having me intrude for two nights in a row.’’

She snorts, rolling her eyes. ‘’It’s hardly intruding when I invite you. Besides, it’s my love language, remember?’’

‘’What? Inviting random girls to spend the night with you?’’

‘’No.’’ Wanda says cheekily, getting up from her barstool. ‘’Keeping little birds safe from the big bad storm outside.’’ She wraps an arm around my waist and nudges me out of the kitchen, turning off the light as she does so.

‘’How do you propose to do that?’’

She smiles, scrunching up her nose, crinkles forming in the outer corners of her eyes.

‘’I’ll huff and puff and blow the storm away.’’

***

That is how I come to spend the second night in Wanda’s bed. The next day, the storm comes back with a vengeance, and when Wanda notices the tremble in my hands at the sound of the incoming thunder, she all but wrestles me into her bed, her arms wrapped tightly around me.

While the first three nights were entirely intentional on Wanda’s part, the fourth is somewhat of an accident. We had settled into her bed to watch some more episodes of the Dick van Dyke Show, as the thick duvet offered more warmth than the blankets in the cinema. Yet, when she stepped out for a mere 20 minutes to take a call, she had returned to find me fast asleep.

By the fifth night, I am so used to the luxury of sleeping wrapped in Wanda’s gentle embrace, that I find myself sulking all day long, knowing that tonight I won’t be able find a convenient excuse to spend another night in Wanda’s bed.

As the sky darkens, I dread the moment Wanda and I will inevitably have to part. It feels so strange to have become so attached to her, but it can’t help it, it feels so natural to be this close to her. Due to her time off work, we’ve been spending almost every second of the day together. Our days are spent talking and laughing, strolling through the garden, watching films, playing games, and cooking together.

Our nights are quiet, gentle even. When the storm raged outside, Wanda wrapped me up in her arms and I fell asleep to the sound of her steady heartbeat. The night where I fell asleep by accident, I woke at the witching hour, Wanda’s alarm clock showing 03:24, the luminous red numbers lighting up in the dark. As if she had sensed me waking, Wanda draped an arm around my waist and opened her eyes blearily. ‘’Stay.’’ She had murmured, her voice heavy with sleep. I couldn’t deny her, and even if she hadn’t asked I would have done anything just to stay until morning.

Wanda can tell that something is wrong, but I shrug her off every time she attempts to get me to open up. I’m embarrassed to feel like this, this sickly sweet neediness makes me cringe. Yet I can’t stop myself from scooting closer to her on the sofa, or accidentally brushing up against her as we’re cooking. I tell myself I mustn’t get too attached, reminding myself that this is technically a job I was hired for. It’s difficult to keep this at the forefront of my mind, especially in those moments where Wanda pulls me close to her as we watch TV, or when she traces patterns on my bare thighs as we are cuddled up in bed.

The dreaded bedtime comes, when the grandfather clock in the hallway chimes eleven times. Right on cue, Wanda yawns, stretching her arms over her head. ‘’I think we should head to bed, we hardly slept these last few days.’’

She’s right of course, what with the storm and the late night pillow talk, we only managed about 4 or 5 hours every night. Still, I try to think of something that might persuade her to stay just a little while longer. Another episode of her favourite show, a round of cards, just a few more minutes. But nothing comes to me. Nothing that would actually get her to stay for a substantial amount of time. Besides, I would only be delaying the inevitable. Even if I got five more minutes, cuddled up with her on the sofa, I would be spending the night alone in my bed anyway.

I didn’t think it possible, but my mood still sours considerably as I trudge up the stairs behind Wanda. I wonder how many days it will take for me to get used to sleeping alone again, and what it would take for Wanda to invite me into her bed once more.

Just as I had the days before, I push open my own bedroom door. Even when I stayed with Wanda I used my own bathroom to shower and change into my nightclothes. It felt altogether a lot more sombre knowing I wasn’t here for just a quick pit stop. The doorknob feels cold in my hand as I watch Wanda brush past me, heading towards her own room.

‘’Goodnight.’’ I try to sound cheery as I say it, but she frowns slightly when I do so, a half smile formed on her lips. ‘’Don’t go falling asleep in the shower.’’ She teases with a sly smile. I assure her I won’t, and with that I let the door close behind me.

I go through the motions of preparing for bedtime, but I’m hardly paying attention. I try to focus my mind on something cheerful, reminding myself that this isn’t a big deal at all. For a while I try to distract myself by writing up a review on my phone for the latest book I have read, but this only takes a mere 10 minutes, and soon I find myself mindlessly staring up at the ceiling. After several long minutes of this, I decide I might as well turn the lights off, reasoning that sleep will take me at some point.

Just as I find a comfortable position, the door connecting my room to Wanda’s swings open and Wanda appears in the doorway, her strawberry red hair glowing copper in the dim light streaming in from her bedroom. She looks at me with amused confusion. ‘’What are you doing?’’

‘’Uhhh…” I say stupidly, sitting upright in bed in order to look at her better. ‘’Sleeping?’’

She gives me a look of feigned annoyance. Rolling her eyes at me, whilst clearly trying to suppress a smile. ‘’If you don’t want to spend the night with me, you could have just told me, honey. I’m a big girl, I can handle it.’’

I know she’s only teasing me, but it still stings a little. ‘’It’s quite rude to get into a lady’s bed without an invitation, you know?’’

‘’I see!’’ She says, a twinkle of amusement in her eyes. ‘’Is that why you were sulking all day? Because you didn’t get an invitation?’’

My scowl utterly betrays me and Wanda laughs heartily. ‘’Oh I’m sorry, honey. I assumed you wanted to stay with me.’’

‘’I didn’t want to butt in.’’

Wanda perches herself on the edge of my bed, the mattress dipping slightly as she does so. ‘’I’m not one to admit this usually.’’ She says, lowering her voice conspiratorially. ‘’But, I enjoy having you snuggled up with me all night. I don’t think I could sleep half as well on my own.’’

I sincerely doubt this. Someone as independent and strong-willed as Wanda doesn’t need the likes of me by her side to sleep well at night. For me however, it’s an entirely different story. I get the feeling that she’s saying this for my benefit, knowing that I’m too stubborn (or rather, too anxious.) to ask her for the comfort I so desperately crave.

‘’Me either.’’ I admit sheepishly, Wanda’s own confession spurring me on. ‘’I like having someone to hug and cuddle with again.’’

‘’Well then.’’ She says, with a grin like a Cheshire cat, leaning into a half-bow and extending her hand to me. ‘’I would like to formally invite you to stay the night in my room, this night, and every night to come."

━━━━━━━━━ ✯¸.•´*¨`*•✿ ✿•*`¨*`•.¸✯ ━━━━━━━━━

Taglist:

@swirlofsnow @emeraldevan @ichala @romeo-the-cactus @lainjupi @messuhp @lissaaaa145 @princessprudy @333hhm @im-my-hope @inluvwithfictionalwomen

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#char writes #c: wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x reader

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astolfofo · 2 years

Text

Hmm so I still have this kurapika fic rotting away in my docs kek

I’m going to finish it but like it really sucks so read this at your own risk

Dead dove do not eat, attempted mindbreak, dark content, murder, blood, NON-CON, nsfw, yk the drill just don’t read it if you’re sensitive to the above cause it’s shittily written dark content also big warning for cringe

Other than that lmao have a good day ig

Typing with one hand rn cause I think I might’ve burnt the other while playing genshin mdni.

The Prince.

He was every bit as bitter and merciless as people would describe him to be. A sadistic bastard, who would stop at nothing... to get what he wanted. And he wanted revenge. He wanted revenge for his dead clan. He desired this revenge so strongly, that he put his own people under many years of suffering.

You were just one of the people foolish enough to try to free yourself and others from the misery you suffered. You hated the power of the upper classes- people who would ignore your suffering. You swore you would never bow your head down to them. They didn't deserve what they had. They were simply born with privilege, not allowing others to be free. They were simply ruthless people who would do anything and everything to get what they want.

As you lived with Kurapika, you realized the more this became true.

Yet ironically, here you were kneeling here before the Prince himself. The person who was wholly responsible for all your misery.

The people wanted change. The people wanted a revolution. They wanted equality.

They just wanted a better live.

After foolishly trying to assainate Kurapika, you were locked up by Kurapika’s orders. You were thrown into a dark dungeon for at least a few weeks. Isolated.

You could consider yourself lucky since you hadn't suffered the death penalty. Kurapika had let you live. Just barely.

"You do remember your part of the deal correct?"

"Wh-what?"

"Don't play stupid with me. I've already done my part of the deal. It's time for you to do yours."

Kurapika's voice was sharp as a knife and cold as ice. It echoed around the marble walls, and it pierced your skull. It was merciless; cold, and cruel.

Your eyes widened.

The reason why you could live with Kurapika...

In that instant when Kurapika had seen you, your nen had been taken away, which made you powerless against his wrath.

You were only allowed to live under the condition... you would help him rebuild his clan. In exchange, you would be able to live without ever having to worry about money ever again. You could live the life you desired, only if you were paid him back with your body.

And surprisingly, he had kept up to his end of the deal.

"I believe I have waited long enough."

He tugged at the chain around your neck, for emphasis, "Unless you would rather die now?"

You don't respond.

Kurapika narrows his eyes and sighs.

He walks shortly past you, closing the gap between you and him. You hear the sound of the chains in his left hand. Then, you feel a knife pointed at your throat. "What. Do. You. Say. (Y/N)?"

The knife pressed into your neck. You saw blood dripping down from your neck.You knew. Kurapika would not hesitate to kill you, given the chance. It was shown over and over again. You claw at his arm trying to pull it away, but he presses harder into your neck. The sharp pain was getting to your head.

"I give your pathetic ass a place to live. I let your filthy being drink, sleep, and live in my castle. You enjoyed this life. And nothing comes for free. You, of all people, should know that the best."

It seemed as if he knew just how to irk you enough. To get what he wanted. Not to mention, being on the verge of death clouded your resistance.

"Okay..."

The knife pressed even harder.

"FUCKING OKAY KURAPIKA. Just... put down the damn knife."

Kurapika stops and tosses aside the knife. It lands on the ground with a loud clatter. The blood smears on the floor.

"Go on."

His voice draws your attention back.

"What the fuck do you want me to do?"

"Strip."

"What?"

Kurapika looks at you again. His eyes are now a deep scarlet colour.

"I'm not very patient right now. (Y/N). Either take off all your clothes right now. Or I'll do it for you. You can choose."

Either way, it wasn’t like you had a choice. You weren’t too keen on Kurapika touching you in general, but what could you do?

He was the reason you were still (although just barely) alive. Kurapika technically saved you. Besides, you did agree to help him in the first place.

You shrugged. “I guess I’ll do it.”

Kurapika narrowed his eyes but didn’t say anything.

Every second felt like an hour, while your face burned from embarrassment, anger, and desperation.

You slowly unbuttoned your shirt and took it off.

You could feel Kurapika’s eyes burning into your bare back now. You swore you would kill him one day for this.

Kurapika sighed, “Must I do everything for you?”

“Don’t drag this out. We never know what I might do if you take forever. Or are you so spoiled, you forgot how to take off your clothes?”

Kurapika’s voice sends shivers down your spine. Anger clouded over your mind. What the hell did he know? He sat on top of a throne, a fucking throne. He didn’t know what it was like to be on the verge of death. He didn’t lose as much as his will to live. He still had the desire for revenge. A goal, an ambition to reach.

While… while the rest of you had nothing. It made you feel extremely angry and annoyed. You would admit that Kurapika was kinder than some previous leaders, although not much better as time passed on.

“Keep your shirt on. It’s better that way.”

Unwillingly, you reach for the waistband of your pants. Slowly, you unbutton your pants and pull the zipper down.

You lookup. Kurapika’s facial expression is completely darkened, and his hair covered most of it. His breathing sounded laboured.

Was he…

He couldn’t be… right?

“Keep going.”

You take off your shoes, then your socks, and you pull your pants to your ankles. You sighed and then pulled them down.

Kurapika took several steps toward you. Each step was very controlled, mechanical as if forced.

“This is not your first time doing this.. correct?”

“Yes… that is correct.”

“Tch. Fucking whore.”

You glared at him.

“There are better ways to make money and get what you need, rather than selling your body, and being a slut.”

Kurapika kicks you in the face, “But I guess you’re not smart enough to figure that out.”

You wince and cover the left side of your face- where he kicked it. Of course, you knew there were other ways to get money. You could’ve just gotten a job like everyone, instead of assassination or prostitution. But… what would he know? The world was cruel. You didn’t have a family, you didn’t have anyone… anyone who would give you a job other than the rebels of this country.

“Well, it doesn’t matter anymore. Look at you now.”

His eyes were now scarlet.

“You’re… so weak. You barely talk anymore and you’re so obedient. It’s almost cute.”

No… no…

“Even though you still harbour so much hate to me, I can sense it from miles away.”

“I’ve broken you well.”

Go… away…

He takes another step towards you.

You feel paralyzed by fear.

“I’ll do what I want to you…”

Your blood turns cold.

“And if I don’t do this now… I might go insane.”

You feel pressure on your throat, from how hard Kurapika is gripping the chains.

You feel tears falling down your cheeks.The reminiscence of your misery. How much you had suffered with him. With every violation he did on you, the emotions began to completely cease. If only… you had chosen the death penalty back then.

This was, in many ways, a fate worse than death itself. You were living the life of a glorified pet. Nothing more, nothing less.

In a single motion, Kurapika pulls off his tie, and then he throws off his jacket.

Against your will, you look up. He is wearing nothing, other than his collared shirt.

He grips your wrists. His facial expression is maniacal- wide-eyed and angry yet, giddy and excited at the same time.

“We’ll rebuild the Kurata Clan together, (Y/N).”

“Kurapika.. stop please…”

Kurapika ignores you. Instead, he closes any remaining distance between you two, by forcing himself inside of you.

You squeak.

Slowly, he drags his cock against your walls.

You sharply inhale, trying your best not to make any noise. It was wrong. This was all wrong. You shouldn’t be making any noise. You shouldn’t be enjoying this.

You should be used to this by now since you had done it so many times before. But, you were always the one who initiated the action.

Kurapika smirked against your ear. “I know you’re enjoying this. No need to stop yourself.”

You snapped, “Why the hell would I be enjoying this?”

Kurapika pushes himself deep into you.

You compress the urge to moan, by biting your tongue.

“If you didn’t enjoy this, why did you almost moan just now?”

“Sh-shut up.”

His expressions looked almost mainical. It made you feel humiliated. He was enjoying this. The sheer of you crying and being humiliated, was enough to make him this.

“Don’t stop yourself (Y/N). I know you didn’t get fucked for a long time. I know I abused you. But for now, just cave into your desires. Like nothing else matters right now.”

“How the hell… am I supposed to do that. If you’re literally raping me.. right now?”

“When you agreed to this, you essentially sold your entire body away. For me. Therefore, I am not raping you.”

“And to be honest, I don’t entirely dislike you.”

Many sensations ran through your body right now. Your neck still hurt from being cut. Your body was sore from being dragged around by Kurapika. And… Kurapika’s dick was making you feel pleasured. More than anyone else.

“You’re kidding right?”

“I’m not. You are still respectable for trying to assinate me. You still have many virtues. People love you, respect you, and you do what you think is right. You’re a good person.”

“I-I’m not though..”

“If you were anyone else, per say, and blunt idiot who only wanted to kill me… I would’ve excuted them right away.”

“What?”

“You are special, (Y/N). You are different from all the others. You didn’t want anyone to die. You just wanted everyone to have a better life.”

#kurapika #kurapika smut #yandere kurapika #hxh x reader smut #hxh x reader #yandere hxh

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