#i love the way the dark worlds are layered under the light world
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“I need you” isn’t “I love you,” and it isn’t “Yes, let’s go off together,” but the thing is, it might as well be. And it might be one of the more honest things Aziraphale has ever said.
He has never said it aloud before now. Not like this, with eons worth of raucous indignant feeling crawling up into his throat. He had not wanted, not expected to say it like this, mocked by his own stricken reflection in Crowley's sunglasses, each lens a dark mirror.
"I—I need you," says Aziraphale, and his voice breaks down the middle. It might as well, for he's confessed too late. Crowley is shut to him, recedes from him like a wave broken on the terrible bedrock of Aziraphale's futile stubbornness.
And still, even like this, Aziraphale needs him.
His presence, his constancy. His unfailing, tenacious friendship.
Crowley’s kindness, his softness, his solicitousness under the prickly façade Aziraphale sees is just that—a layer that can be so easily peeled away to reveal the deep core of caring beneath, too entrenched to be deserved by any world they could live in. He needs Crowley’s unguarded gaze, needs the way Crowley’s forever looking at him across distances when he thinks Aziraphale doesn’t notice: chin tilted up, eyes soft as marigold petals.
A phone call away whenever anything or nothing at all happens is Crowley’s dear voice; his lovely dry humor; his sauntering, slithering, improbable walk despite which he somehow flawlessly falls into step alongside Aziraphale anywhere and all the time. His hip knocking against Aziraphale’s, casual as anything and yet so much more than. Flashes of black and wisps of red flitting in and out of Aziraphale’s periphery for thousands of years.
He needs their circuitous arguments, their winding ethical debates—after most of which they somehow end up on the same side, that is, their own side, terrifying and exhilarating in its Promethean familiarity—and Crowley’s chaotically-sure moral compass. The times Crowley is braver than Aziraphale could ever be; and the times Crowley reminds him of how brave he actually always has been.
And Aziraphale needs even the great big awful rows, the ones that end in their standing on opposite verges of another chasm of their own making. Because the culmination of such a fight is always the meeting again in the middle. It’s the low sweeping bow of their apology, a ritual not half earnest for all its facetiousness, which says so much without either of them having to utter a word. Crowley holds a whole conversation in the dip of his fiery head and the exaggerated flutter of his elegant wrists, when it’s his turn; and, when it’s Aziraphale’s, the hashing-out of differences is there in the way he executes each familiar movement with the practiced ease of a faithful courtier, though it’s been ages since he stood in any king’s court.
He needs the knowledge that they always forgive each other. Because, well, they do. They must. They will. What’s a spat or a quarrel or even a proper falling-out to two beings like them, to him and Crowley?
Aziraphale needs Crowley’s happiness. His truest happiness. If that isn't the crux of it all, what is?
He remembers the ancient light of Crowley's joy, how it had shone once about both of them like an aura through the blackness of undeveloped space. It never left, all that bright, barely reined-in giddiness, all that frenetic energy, but he's transmuted it, magpie-like, into something else. Aziraphale can sense it whenever Crowley brings him a new vintage record to add to his collection. Whenever Crowley pulls out Aziraphale’s chair for him outside Marguerite's, or orders just what he likes for him at the Ritz. Whenever he drops into the shop unannounced with a little box tucked under his arm, full of gorgeous petits fours from the new bakery Aziraphale hasn’t yet tried, and says, gleeful, Ohhh, you wouldn’t believe all the wiling I had to do to get my hands on these, angel. You’ll have to thwart me for this, I know. But first—no, no, no, first! The only sensible thing for you to do would be to try them… you’ll like the pear macaron...
And of course Crowley is right. He's right about most things, isn't he, after all? Because Crowley knows him, and he needs to be known, but it simply wouldn't do for anyone else to be the one doing the knowing.
Aziraphale likes the pear macaron, just as Crowley knew he would.
He likes all the things that come along with Crowley, really. The fast car, oh yes, sleek and stylishly classic and so very Crowley through and through, though Aziraphale has committed staunchly to grousing about it. The way no companionable silence held in Crowley's company is ever truly silent. The jaunts to the park on seasonable days: Crowley's touch lingering where he pours frozen peas for the ducks into Aziraphale's cupped palm; the fondness in Crowley's tone poorly disguised as he points out his favorite mated pair trawling placidly across the pond. The drinking together long past the small hours of the morning in the back room of the bookshop, where the walls are the same warm ochre shade as Crowley’s eyes.
It isn't ever so much about the drinking as it is about the together bit. How the space between them dwindles with the syrupy passage of time. How Crowley softens and melts into the settee. How he becomes Aziraphale's to watch, for once. How he grows so wondrously relaxed and gloriously at home there in Aziraphale's space that Aziraphale begins to wonder if this will at last be the night Crowley does not, eventually, get up and retreat back to his Bentley to take himself away again...
There is always that fragile little moment, right after sobering up, when everything in their universe seems at the same time to be entirely too set in stone and entirely too much as though it all hangs by one delicate, dissembling thread. Always the split second in which Aziraphale looks into Crowley's guileless face and remembers he could unravel everything with a single tug.
Yes, one sharp tug on the lapels of Crowley's jacket would do it, he knows. How easily it could be done... Tumble the two of them into one another, just then, and they would never be parted again. And his deft-tongued Crowley would lick the heat and the aftertaste of Talisker into Aziraphale's mouth, then, before it had the chance to dissipate completely.
He could. He could.
It's in those stretched milliseconds, brimming with a tender longing so acute it tips right over into an agony, that Aziraphale realizes: I do need all of you, darling, don't I? So terribly much it might unmake me one day. Never mind Aziraphale's most fickle and blustering attempts at denial, he knows this to be true as he knows the truth of little else in the cosmos.
And perhaps today is that day—the day Aziraphale will dissolve and be remade in the permanent shape of lack.
#good omens#ineffable husbands#aziracrow#don't mind me just thinking about aziraphale all alone up in heaven without any distractions missing crowley
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blankets and kisses
pairing : chan x gn!reader
summary : the bitter iciness of winter wore you down, yet your boyfriend knew how to melt away your sorrows
wc : 913
cw : alludes to seasonal depression, established relationship, comforting bf chan, fluffy, not proof read
a/n : this was entirely self indulgent LMAO sorry if formatting is bad though, im on my phone and wrote this kinda quickly bc i felt inspired hehe . also im floridian so i know nothing abt snow or winter so i did my best
in the hushed whispers of the night, you found yourself yearning his comforting embrace, a closeness you always craved and yearned for. the chilling zephyrs brushing against your skin, your hair bellowing in response as you shiver under the icy winds the harsh winter always brought in its company.
you couldn’t bear this season alone, it was taxing to repeat the same mundanity and solitude adulthood had introduced you to. daylight was always so fleeting and witnessing it had become a luxury during these cold months.
it was always the same deep blue morning sky that greeted you as you made your way to work, and after eight grueling hours, the same sky would be waiting to be welcome you once more, except this time with the sun rays barely peeking out from the edge of the sky. you hated this time of year, and you could never understand the holiday joy and excitement everyone seemed to buzzing with around you. what was there to enjoy?
the weather was unpleasant, the low temperatures of the world pricking the tip of your nose as you briskly made your way home, trudging your way through the light sheets of snow that covered the sidewalks. the glacial breeze never relented its attacks on you, always piercing through the layers of warmth you adorned yourself with.
the lack of sunlight allowed dreary, dark clouds take over your mind as you surrendered yourself to exhaustion. how much longer would your days be like this? how much longer would the wintry season plague your mind with somber thoughts?
you crack for the door open to your shared apartment, basking in its inviting warmth that provided you refuge from the world you had just shut behind you. the comforting smell of fresh linen making its presence known as a grateful smile graces your features. you gently place your bag on the small side table, shedding the layers of coats you had worn to endure freezing winds, not caring that they’d remain on the floor.
your mind was too focused on finding solace and reprieve to worry about your belongings as your feet dragged you to your living room. your own personal source sunshine that kept your afloat during these difficult times was waiting for you on the sofa, his head turning to your direction once he heard the pitter patter of your steps.
a smile stretches across his face, his eyes becoming crescents as he lifts himself off the couch to meet you half way.
“hi baby,” chan whispers as his arms envelope you, a chaste kiss landing on your forehead, melting away the restricting stiffness the icy winds had diseased you with. the tension in your muscles loosen under his summery touch, your mind relaxing knowing you had found safety in his arms once again.
“hi,” was all you could muster out, your sleepiness catching up to you as your heavy eyelids flutter shut, snuggling your head into his chest, taking in the comforting thumping of his heartbeat.
chan’s hand found itself resting atop your head, his other drawing gentle circles on your back, “i warmed up some blankets for us to cuddle up in,” he spoke, “i think you deserve some rest.” he knew this time of year was suffocating for you and without fail, he found ways to bring light and warmth into your gloomy world, whether it was through gentle words or acts of love, he was the healing your ailing mind needed.
his words were soothing to your worn-down soul, a small smile appearing on your face as you peer into his eyes, chin resting on his chest. “that sounds so nice, thank you, chan,” you feebly mutter.
without skipping a beat, chan swiftly lifts you up, carrying you to your bedroom as a hearty giggle escapes him, you squealing at the unexpected action. he softly drops you atop the bed, the sheets rippling under the sudden weight as you lost yourself to a fit a giggles, blood rushing to your face as you succumbed to the bustling butterflies that made themselves home in your stomach. chan lays himself next to you, hastily pulling a toasty blanket over your bodies. his arms pull you into him, your body fitting snuggly into his as his leg rests over yours. he cups your face with one hand as his lovingly gazes into your eyes, his eyes sparkling with adoration as he drank in every detail before peppering your face with kisses.
airy laughs continue to leave both of you, overwhelming you as each kiss tickles your flustered skin, leaving burning warmth and desire behind each kiss as your eyes squeeze shut. after bearing his feverish affection, he then places one last, languid kiss on your lips, lingering for a few moments before pulling away, beaming at your dazed state.
“i love you, y/n.”
“i love you too, chan.”
despite the brutal winter season that sapped the happiness out of you, as long as you had chan by your side, you knew you’d be able to uncover the joyful glee everyone else seemed to have. his very presence shooed away the heavy snow clouds that darkened your thoughts, rays of sunshine peaking out to thaw out the icy shell that encased your heart, reminding you that this too shall pass. somehow, in the midst of harsh snowstorms, he was a blooming flower that emanated infectious jubilation, and you were blessed to be able to bask underneath it.
#cinnamostar writes#stray kids fanfic#stray kids x reader#skz fanfic#skz fluff#bang chan x reader#chan x reader#chan x you#bang chan x you#bang chan#skz chan fluff#stray kids fluff#stray kids chan#stray kids scenarios#stray kids imagines
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Wildest dreams (V)
ACOTAR The Batboys x Plus size reader
Where the reader finds herself gaining the attention of the most notorious males in Prythian and it seems that even her wildest dreams couldn’t prepare her for the night they would share.
Notes: This has Rhys, Cassian and Azriel with a plus-size reader since I literally couldn’t decide who it should be and thought that the best fantasy in the world would be all three :) Here’s to all my thick, fat, plus-size girlies who want some bat-boy love too xo
Warning: mature themes (18 +) swearing, body-image issues, smut and the bat boys being utterly infatuated with their thick, beautiful lady (FINAL PART)
Part I
Part II
Part III
Part IV
MASTERLIST - 1 and 2
"Like what you see, Darling?"
My body shivered at the smooth purr of Rhysand's voice through my mind, caressing over me like a lover's touch, igniting my skin and blood with fire. But I couldn't reply, couldn't speak as I took in the males before me.
Who were currently shedding off their layers, one by one.
I sat on the edge of the large bed, the satin grating against my bare skin as I clenched my thighs together to stifle the ache forming between them. It was hypnotic, the three of them stood smirking and arrogant before me, the room silent as they began unbuttoning their shirts, lifting them with ease over their heads to reveal the corded muscle and ripples of strong endless skin covered with dark whorls.
My gaze didn't linger on one male for long, moving from the slender leanness of Rhysand to the hard ridged abs of Azriel and finally, the solid corded muscle of Cassian. They were ethereal, the kind of beauty that seemed unreal, and yet as they watched me, it was as if I was the most beautiful thing in the room right now.
Rhysand stalked forward on silent feet toward me, his ties loosened allowing his breeches to hang dangerously low around his hips, revealing the sharp V of his torso. I couldn't stop myself from following down the expanse of his tan chest, my eyes grazing the trail of hair that began at his navel and dipped under his breeches.
I felt the heat inch onto my cheeks, my breasts heavy and the wetness between my thighs aching with need and want. My eyes fluttered up, meeting Rhysand's star-flecked eyes and pretty tilted smile as he beheld me, still sitting on the bed, my erratic heart beating with impatience in my chest.
"How would you like us, darling?" Rhysand murmured, his voice hoarse as he dipped his head down, his hand trailing over my bottom lip and settling to cup my cheek. My mind turned blissfully blank as his lips met mine, and I didn't conceal the whimper that escaped me as his lips moved against me, his tongue delving and exploring against mine.
I thought of nothing but the feeling of him one second and then the next, images flashed through my mind.
I saw myself on top of one of these fine males, my head thrown back, my eyes closed, riding and taking every last inch of pleasure that I could get.
Then there was a flash, and I was sprawled on the bed on my hands and knees, a firm, veined grip tugging on my loose hair and sinking deep into me from behind, an unfamiliar kind of pleasure.
And then there is the final image, where I kissed down the strong expanse of muscle and skin, closer to the place where I craved to taste and explore as I was explored.
I blinked as reality came fading back in and Rhysand's violet eyes twinkled before me, amused and needy, waiting for an answer, waiting for which choice I made. That was clear- it was my choice, to be taken and treated and pleasured in whichever way I saw fit.
I wanted it all. I wanted every fantasy. All at once.
Rhysand's brow rose, a glimmer of surprise shining on his face but then he smirked, turning feral as he heard my proclamation, and saw exactly what I had decided.
'Beautiful, wicked little thing," Rhys purred, and my body prickled as Cassian and Azriel came over, blocking out any light from the moonshine, just as they had all those hours ago at Rita's. My wide eyes looked between them all, and I knew I was out of my depth, lost in how I could even begin to explore my own desires.
Cassian smiled, the face that could harden with violence and death now looked as sweet as honey and sugar, and my body melted with a sigh as he sat beside me and with the gentlest of hands, ran his rough fingers over my soft body and lifted me onto his lap, as if I weighed nothing.
I gasped against his chest, my eyes fluttering as my core rubbed against his breeches as I settled each thigh to straddle him. I bit my lip as Cassian's hands settled on my bare thighs, his hardness digging into me and I moaned into the kiss he gave me, moving down with him as he laid on his back.
"Is this alright, angel?" He questioned softly, looking up at me from the bed and my body pulsed and roared at the feeling of him under me, taking every last bit of my weight and not even noticing. I dragged my soaked, exposed core down his breeches and the groan that escaped him made me weak.
I smiled coyly as my fingers moved down, brushing across Cassian's torso and I felt his breathing hitch as I unlaced his breeches, slowly pushing them down and my heart stilled as his hard erection broke free, slapping back against his stomach.
"Shit," I muttered and the quiet laughter of the three males around me made me blush, my head ducking low in embarrassment, though the size of Cassian made my heart hammer- the idea of him trying to fit that inside me.
"Don't be scared, sweetheart," Azriel murmured, sitting on the bed beside us, his hand coming to tuck my hair behind my ears so I could see his warm eyes. "This is all at your pace, we're following you."
I gnaw on my lip and with the gentlest touch, I reach forward, gripping Cassian's length in my hand and shivering at the feel of it in my palm, at the weight and size and hardness.
"Fuck," Cassian grunted, and I grew braver, my eyes transfixed upon him as I palmed his length, my hands so small in comparison to him, enjoying every breathless moan that escaped the General beneath me.
"Cassian, may I-?" My cheeks grew hot as I looked down, the question shining in my eyes, but my tongue tied and embarrassed to say the words. He grinned, feral delight on his face, and shifted onto his elbows, pulling me into a deep kiss and lifting my hips to help me.
The first brush of Cassian's length against me made me whimper, and I didn't realise how desperate and ready I was until I lined him up to my entrance and sunk down, deliberately, and slowly. My mouth opened in a soundless 'o' as Cassian stretched me, his body rippling under my palms at the feeling of us joined.
"Cauldron," I cursed, my head dropping to Cassian's chest as he fully seated himself inside me, and the burn was so strong and yet it felt so good.
"Shit, you're squeezing me so tight," Cassian gasped, his warm minty breath brushing my cheek and I fluttered my eyes open as his hand came to my cheek, lifting my head to meet his eyes, "Are you all right, angel?"
"Yes, yes," I whispered, and my body grew unbearably hot by the attention on me, Cassian under me, Azriel at my side, Rhysand behind me- just watching. I shifted my hips and Cassian, and I moaned in unison at the movement.
I placed my hands on Cassian's chest and with a deep inhale and exhale, I rose myself up to the tip of him, before slowly sinking back down, deeper than before. He swore, and my lips messily met his as he glided his hands down the rolls at my back, his hands curving around my ass, moving me in against him.
I rocked back and forth, again and again, and beside me, Azriel growled roughly, his scarred hand tracing up my body to cup and fondle my sore breasts and his hazel eyes burned as he suckled and bit across my jaw and neck.
Cassian's eyes pinched shut, and I knew he was holding himself back, restraining himself for my sake and I adored him for it.
"Rhys," I pleaded his name, glancing over my shoulder to where he stood watching, the violet in his eyes deepening to a midnight sky, transfixed as he watched Cassian's length disappear inside me, my ass rippling gently with every move.
"Are you sure, darling?" He asked quietly as he stepped forward, his ring-clad hand running down my back and resting on my ass, his touch so bare. I nodded at him desperately, knowing he could hear and feel the desire running through me.
Cassian paused under me, his length stopping inside me, giving me the time, I needed as Rhys prepped himself. I heard the sound of a vial opening and my heart raced with anticipation as the smell of lavender filled my senses.
I tensed at the feeling of Rhysand's fingers behind me, slippery with oil as he traced uncharted territory.
"I need you to relax, darling, otherwise this will hurt," Rhys said softly, and I swallowed down the dryness in my throat, letting his calm tone sooth me. I leaned forward, grabbing Azriel's hands for support- and as he began kissing against my cheek and Cassian rolled my nipples between his fingers, I melted into the distraction.
"That's it," Rhys praised, and I gasped as his finger dipped into me, ever so slowly, stretching me out. The feeling was unfamiliar and just barely uncomfortable but as he continued, going deeper and faster, it soon eased enough that when he slipped in a second finger, I whimpered loudly.
"You're doing so well," Azriel smiled against my jaw, and the arousal that spiked through me made my head spin, Rhysand's fingers crooked inside me, knowing exactly what spot to hit. "Taking it so well."
"Rhys," My voice broke, utterly ruined, and I arched my back enough that Cassian's eyes rolled, his hard length still seated patiently inside me, my walls clenching and unclenching. "Please, I need you."
A deep, rumbling growl emitted from Rhys and I felt empty the second his fingers slipped out from me, leaving me bare and aching for that feeling again. But as that vial clinked open again, and as Rhysand pulled down his breeches, I knew I didn't need to wait long.
I arched my back as Rhys came to stand behind me, his fingers sprawled over my ass spreading me wide and as his hard, slippery cock brushed against me, I braced myself. I inhaled and exhaled slowly, and as he guided his hips forward, I found myself burying my head into Azriel's chest.
No touch or kiss was enough to distract me from this intrusion.
"Oh-oh," I scratched my nails down Cassian's stomach, my fingers moving over every ridge and muscle for leverage as Rhys sunk into me, inch by inch, the feeling so fucking full I didn't know how much more I could take. "Don't- shit- please, don't stop."
"Cauldron, Y/N," Rhys panted, and the sound made my skin ignite with fire- the sound of my name, pleading and breathless on my High Lord's lips, was one of the best things I'd ever heard. "You're going to fucking kill me clenching around me like this, darling."
The ache of them both inside me soon settled and it wasn't long before I was shifting my core, the feeling of them both within me making me gasp and the pleasure bubbling under the surface.
"Please, please," I gasped when Cassian and Rhys both rolled their hips, moving in tandem inside me.
"Tell them what you want, sweetheart," Azriel murmured against my cheek, kissing teasingly along my jaw, "Tell them how badly you need it."
"So bad, so, so, so fucking bad-" I whimpered, my body shaking now, "Please, Rhys, Cass- Please move."
They didn't need to be told twice.
I bit my cheek hard enough to taste metal as they both drew out from me and then rocked back in, their paces agonisingly slow and with them stretching both holes, hitting two spots far and deep in me, I couldn't catch my breath.
"There you go, Angel, there you fucking go," Cassian grumbled under me, his eyes wild as he watched me, tits bouncing and his hands digging into the flesh of my hips as he fucked his hips up into me, his pace getting faster.
I gasped, Rhysand’s hands curving around my waist and tugging against my breasts, his harsh breath at my ear, every push of his hips, hard and fast behind me, making me jolt and shake.
“Fuck, Gods above-“ My stomach clenched at the fire fanning in me, and all I could do was hold on as they stroked into me, the lewd sounds filling the room, our moans, and curses in tandem as they ruined me.
“Az,” I mewled, my heavy eyes turning to the Shadowsinger beside me, contently watching and enjoying the sight of me being fucked stupid by his brothers, and I draw him into a messy, bruising kiss.
He grumbled into the kiss, and I felt his scarred hands lift and wrap around my throat, the pressure on each side making my head spin and the breath catch in my lungs. His tongue moves against mine with so much indulgence and my eyes blanketed over with shadows and stars.
I sank against Azriel, my hands running over his hard and chiselled chest, scratching, and clawing as I move down his stomach and the sound that rips from him when I draw his cock, hard and slippery with pre-cum, free from his breeches, is a sound I’ll remember for years to come.
‘Your body is perfection, darling,” Rhys hummed through my mind and even through our mental connection, I could feel his arousal, his pleasure as his rings dug into me, his hips shifting and something new and intoxicating consuming me.
I stroke Azriel furiously, curses and moans falling from his lips endlessly and it melodies into the air with the sounds of our bodies moving in the room, and Rhys and Cass seem to feed off of every whimper and cry that comes from me, fucking me harder, as if imprinting themselves inside me.
“I can’t- too much-“ I cry out, too many hands, too many sensations all driving that cord within me tauter and tauter until that feeling is close enough to break.
“That’s it, Angel, so close now,” Cassian coaxes, and my body has no strength left, all I can do is plant my hands on his chest and let him fuck up into me, Rhys guiding me forward and the angle shifts, shifts so that their brushing parts of me I never even knew existed.
“Oh- oh-shit-“ I hadn’t ever experienced pleasure like this, had never been stretched and fucked and touched so thoroughly.
“Let go, sweetheart,” Azriel grits his teeth, his body trembling as my hand moves up and down, again and again, up his veined, red cock and when a hand brushes between my thighs, rubbing messily against my puffy, aching clit, it’s all too much. “Come all over my brother’s cocks now-“
There’s a spark and I’m powerless as it explodes, fanning and roaring as it burns into a full-blown fire, and it shatters every single part of me.
My back arches and my mind goes blank as every nerve in my body ignites, that pool within me draining and draining and draining until there’s nothing left, until I can’t keep up. Azriel holds me, whispering sweet nothing in my ears and my release lasts so long, edged further as Rhys and Cass chase their own highs.
"Fuck, fuck-" Cassian swore, and I felt his hips start to falter, feeling me clenching around him like a vice. It didn't take long for him to start to shake, the muscles at his stomach clenching and hardening and as his eyes clamped shut, he bucked up, swearing as he found his release within me.
The roar he released shook the bed, shook the ground and I felt his warm seed leak out of me, filling me up as his pace slowed, twitching as he came to a breathless halt.
“Rhys,” I begged, for what I didn’t know, but the pressure of him behind me was making me dizzy, that intensity too much and when I leaned back, cementing my back to Rhysand’s chest, he hissed, his arm wrapping around my body to keep me close.
My head lolled back against his chest, unable to hold myself any longer and yet, despite that fog that covered me, my hand still drew to Azriel, still wrapped around his cock, still stroked, and fisted and rubbed him, knowing he was so close.
“Rhys,” I cried his name, and the broken sound that strangled from me when his hand slipped between my thighs and rubbed at my clit, made Azriel shudder, his control wavering. “Rhys, please- can’t- it’s too much-“
“One more, darling,” He whispered against my neck, nibbling, and sucking and biting against the skin as his cock drove into me from behind, skin slapping skin and so brutal that it hurt so good until tears leaked down my face and my hand clenched around Az like a vice.
“Sweetheart, shit-“ Azriel’s voice slipped into something wholly dark, and my eyes fluttered, desperate to watch him as his entire body went hard, his hazel eyes rolling and the filthiest, lowest moan emitting from his lips as his hips jolted- and pearly white cum leaked and leaked and leaked all over my thigh and hand.
“Ruining my brother’s so good, huh?” Rhysand ran his canines over the sweet spot at my neck, hips starting to falter as I squeezed his cock painfully tight, his fingers at my clit slippery with my arousal and Cassian’s release. “Just give your High Lord one more, just one more.”
It’s like his word became a command and my body had no choice but to obey, but to submit and something dark and devastating cracked through me, an orgasm that hit me so hard and fast I couldn’t breathe.
Rhysand’s name was a prayer on my lips, a chant I said again and again, crying tears, and shaking as release razed through me. He bit down on the junction of my throat, canines puncturing flesh and white dots filled my vision as his cock jolted, and he came with a deafening groan.
Rhysand’s body and mine melted together, exhausted, breathless, and sweating and I didn’t have the strength to open my eyes much less keep my body straight, and I was glad for the numerous hands that held me up.
The room was spinning, and I winced as soreness overtook my whole body, bright and furious as I was lifted, Cassian and Rhys both slipping out from me so softly before guiding me down to the bed and pillows as if I were as breakable as porcelain.
I sighed at the feeling of the cloud-like softness under me, my heavy eyes fluttering open, and I gasped softly at the sight of all three males above me, smiling down at me with adoration on their lovely faces.
My face and body heated at the attention, and I released a heavy exhale as I shifted onto my elbow, trying to lift myself to sit- trying and failing.
“Lay down, sweetheart,” Azriel coaxed, his hands guiding me back down and brushing the damp strands of hair from my face, his touch so tender.
I flinched, a pained whimper coming from me at the feeling of something wet brushing my core, and when I looked down, Rhysand shot me an apologetic smile, a wet cloth between his nimble fingers.
“Rhys, I can do that-“
His eyes shot to me, the violet flashing brightly and the command in them, the authority, was enough for me to sigh, rolling my eyes as I dropped my head back to the fluffy pillow. I gnawed on my lip, my face twisting as Rhysand cleaned the mess dripping down my thighs and over my core, his touch so unbelievably gentle as he cleaned me.
Cassian grinned at me, praise shining in his eyes as he ran his calloused, large hands up and down my thighs, soothing every small wince that escaped me or jagged inhale of breath.
I sighed in relief when Rhysand rose from between my parted thighs, the cloth magicked away from his hand and the ache in my core slowly dwindling. My eyes flickered between the three of them, suddenly feeling far too exposed, lying here utterly naked before them.
Stupid really, considering all the very inappropriate things we had just done.
Rhys snorted a loud sound that echoed through the silent room and my face burned at the knowing smile he gave me, hearing my silly thoughts and adoring the shyness that had come back with a vengeance in me again.
“How are you feeling, darling?” Rhys asked quietly, his strong gaze trailing over every inch of me, concerned, as he took in my still trembling and sore form.
“I’m okay,” I whispered back, barely enough energy in me to speak, “Just tired, but a good tired.”
“Then it seems we did our job,” Cassian smirked, and I giggled when he slipped into the spot beside me, his large frame nestling into me as he laid down, his wings draped back and going slack as he sighed into my neck. “Sleep, angel, you need it.”
“Are-are you sure?” I muttered, gnawing on the inside of my cheek nervously, looking from Rhys and Cassian and then to Azriel, who raised their brows at me “I can leave-“
“You’re not going anywhere,” Azriel shook his head, his lips curling into a frown as he took up the spot beside me, and like Cassian, his body melted against mine, the two of them pressed against my body contently.
I giggled at the smirk Rhys threw me, the sound getting louder as Cassian and Azriel kissed against my cheek and neck, sweet, tender kisses that tickled and throbbed and felt so good.
My thighs parted as Rhysand came between them, his body relaxing as I ran my hands over his tense shoulders, running my fingers along the whorls tattooed there as he settled his body between my thighs, his head dropping to my stomach and resting there.
He groaned, a purely blissful sound, his face sinking against the flesh of my stomach, and I laughed at him, the way his eyes began to flutter as if I were the best pillow he’d ever had.
Cassian draped the biggest duvet I’d ever seen over the three of us, and I smiled as they cocooned against me, nestling into me for comfort and warmth and holding my body like it was theirs. I ran my fingers through Rhysand’s hair, his fingers digging into my thighs, keeping them hooked to his waist.
“Who would’ve thought,” I mutter, hearing their amused laughs brush against my skin, “You big bad Illyrian males like cuddling after sex.”
“Only with you, darling.”
--------
@satellitesunshine @queenofangrymoths @highlady-ofillyria @ladespedidas @magical-mischief-makers @lyracarvahall @ummmmmwat @eerievixen @bitchyinternetinfluencer @meritxellao @rachelnicolee @fanfictioniseverything @queen-of-arda @magdalenka @bunnymallowo @azzydaddy @fanboyluvr @maddithefangirl @jeannineee @fakelust @whatthefuckshappeningrn @honeycriess @cheneyq @brujitafantomatico
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Geology and the Economy/Trade in Your Fictional World: Explained
Hi, I'm Bird. I am a geology Ph.D. student and I love reading fiction and playing videogames, however something that can really pull me out of a fictional universe is a lack of understanding of basic geology, and how that would influence your fictional world. Today I will cover geology that can effect trade, some landscape features, and construction!
Things that are typically necessary/desired in a fictional world are building materials, gemstones/precious metals, and fossil fuels/ sources of energy. However, a lot of these things are not found together, and they typically have some features to make them more distinct in terms of landscape, so lets talk about it!
Gemstones/ Precious metals and landscape features
Typically, gemstones can be found in two different rock types. The first is intrusive igneous rocks (magma that slowly cooled underground to form course-grained rocks like granite) and high grade metamorphic rocks (rocks that got put under intense heat and pressure under the earth's surface). Some minerals are more likely to form in particular conditions than others, but for the most part these minerals can be found interchangeably within both of these places. *Note: this is a gross oversimplification but we are starting small
(Yes it is a shitty chart better pictures will come further in the post)
If you are writing these minerals based off and igneous deposit, good descriptions for the rocks would be speckled, with mineral grains of about the same size and varying in color. They should NOT be striated, and they will often form bald (unforested) cliffs that are typically rounded and not jagged.
If you are writing with metamorphic rocks, you would expect these rocks to be layered, typically having light and dark layers with some minerals possibly being much larger than the others surrounding it. These textures can definitely (sometimes) be observed from a distance.
*Final notes about minerals* Quartz varieties are difficult, quartz can be found in volcanic, metamorphic, sedimentary, and intrusive igneous settings. If you are writing about agate specifically it is almost always volcanic in nature.
Diamonds are found in volcanic ash deposits called kimberlites, these deposits can occur in any rock type, so while they are igneous, they can be found anywhere. They have zero connection to the surrounding rocks.
2. Fossil Fuels
If a region is producing oil or coal, it is going to be from a sedimentary environment that is very rich in ancient plant material (like millions of years old). A unique feature of these locations would be finding lots of plant fossils, and rocks that can be found in association with these would be sandstone, shale, conglomerates/breccias, and limestones. Sedimentary rocks form in layers, so if exposed the layers will be very visible from a distance. You can also get unique features due to preferential weathering (fancy way of saying some rocks are harder than others, so when exposed to the same weather some rocks will break down faster than others). Also, natural oil seeps are a thing in places where natural oil is prevalent, but I couldn't find a good picture sorry.
3. Building Resources
based on the rocks found in each region, the buildings will be made out of different materials, so lets breakdown what building materials would be used based off what rocks are present in the location.
Sedimentary rocks- lots of options here, so I will just info dump. If the region is drier, limestone is a good choice, historically may desert areas use limestone, it is soft and easy to carve, but it will dissolve slowly with rain. Sandstone is a durable rock that can be used, but it is very hard as it is made of quartz. Clay! shale breaks down in humid environments and will often make clay, this is a great, amazing building resource that could drive economy.
Metamorphic rocks- Marble.... if you want to make luxurious marble temples, metamorphic rocks are a must! Other comments, metamorphic rocks will often have layers of weaker minerals and stronger minerals, that means they will break along a defined surface. A lot of older houses in the Italian Alps (Aosta Valley) use these rocks for roofing. Slate roofing is also common in a lot of places, slate is formed from really low grade metamorphism, so this resource can be available in both sedimentary and metamorphic locations within reason.
Igneous- Granite (light) and Gabbro (dark) is very hard and therefore it is used frequently in countertops today. This is also important because these rocks will take a high shine from polishing. Igneous rocks are also perfect for making cement! Volcanic ash mixed with quicklime and salt water is the recipe for roman concrete which is arguable much better than current day concrete but otherwise doesn't offer much more benefit.
Thank you if you made it this far, I want to make more guides in the future to hopefully cover more geology topics that can influence a story (possibly natural disasters and associated landscape features for subtle foreshadowinggggg)
This guide is very simplified! It is supposed to cover a lot of information for people who may not know a lot about geology, but are interesting in creating fictional universes! If you know a lot about geology already, please avert your eyes, or comment something additional!
#geology#rocks#science#creative writing#dnd#worldbuilding#writeblr#fictional world#dnd worldbuilding#writerscommunity#writing resources#writing tips#writing prompt#stem#worldbuilding stuff
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can u write dark g!p nat x fem reader pls pls hehe ty
LOVE POTION
PAIRINGS: Natasha Romanoff x maximoff!reader
WORD COUNT: 1,919
WARNINGS: smut, dark!Nat, kinda dark!Wanda, manipulation, delusional!Nat, cheating, use of magic, mind games, small smut, pining, small angst, think that’s all :)
NO ONE IS PERMITTED TO STEAL, COPY, OR REBLOG MY WORK AS THEIR OWN!!
“Wanda, please!” Nat begged, feeling more hopeless as the witch tried to ignore her.
“I told you, Nat, I’m not letting you drug my own sibling!” She countered, setting her food down on the counter as she grabbed a fork to stab into the chicken. It was a new recipe she had been wanting to try out for months now and finally got to, if only Nat wasn’t bothering her only sense of peace.
“I’m not drugging them, I’m simply guiding them in the right direction.” Wanda rolled her eyes, chugging down the glass of water in front of her. She didn’t know how she got stuck in this mess, but she wished she never did. Everyone knew Nat was in love with you, except you. You seemed clueless to her obvious signs sent your way, or maybe you chose to ignore it.
She didn’t believe your girlfriend deserved you, she wasn’t right. She knew how you should be treated and loved, and she knew she’d have to be the one to show you.
“C’mon, you know they deserve better, and you know I can show them that.” Wanda sighed, forcing herself to rid the thoughts that she could be right away. Your partner wasn’t the best person in the world, and she definitely wasn’t the best to you. She tried putting it in your head what she knew, but you were oblivious to Sharon’s acts. Maybe you had noticed a few out-of-place acts, but you still loved her, you couldn’t just change that instantly.
“You know deep down they need to be saved or else they’ll never leave her-“
“Who they choose to love is not my business-“
“Who they choose to love is not who they should love, Wanda!” She started. “You can’t deny it, you know I’m right but you refuse to admit it.” There was a long beat of silence, neither of them deciding to fill it. Wanda looked down when she felt a hand on top of hers, caressing the skin soothingly.
“Please, I want to help them. It’ll only get worse if I don’t.” She remained quiet.
“Do you remember the first time you saw a bruise on their skin? You asked what it was from and you told me you could tell they were lying. Or when you found Y/N crying alone in their bed, you asked them what was wrong and they said they found a hickey on Sharon’s neck. Please, Wanda, you need to let me do this or they’ll never be safe. Don’t you want to save your little sibling?” She was manipulating her, she knew that, but she did it oh-so well. Wanda felt tears threatening to pool in her eyes as they layered a gloss.
“They can’t know about this. If they find out, I was never a part of it-“
“Of course, of course. I will never let them find out, and if they do, you didn’t have a single clue.” Wanda nodded slowly, putting her head in her hands while a sniffle left her.
“Well, when it’s done, let me know.”
The party was loud, creating a tense stimulation in your mind. You clawed at your fingers, playing with the promise ring your girlfriend had gotten you months ago. It didn’t shine like before, now it only held a dullness under the light.
“You want some company?” You heard a low voice come from behind you, turning around only to see your best friend, Nat. She had been with you through thick and thin, you loved her more than anything possible.
“Yeah, that would be nice.” A conversation struck between the two of you, and it felt like everything and everyone else disappeared. It was like sitting on clouds, it was just pure peace.
“I’m gonna get a drink, you want one?”
“Oh, I really shouldn’t.” You chuckled, pulling down the side of your dress that chose to ride up. She eyed you teasingly, leaning in to give a small smirk while your gaze fell to her lips. Suddenly, you remembered Sharon who was just across the room. Instantly, you pulled back, blinking a few times before clearing your throat.
“Uh, you know what, maybe I will take one.” She nodded and left, returning moments later with your drinks. You didn’t notice or question the slight glow surrounding your glass, only chugging down the liquid until your throat burned.
“Fuck, this is strong. What is this?”
“It’s a surprise, sweetheart.” You rolled your eyes before she rested her hand on your thigh, rubbing soft and gentle circles that brought you ease.
“Alright, I think me and Y/N should be heading out right about now.” Came your girlfriend's voice. You could sense the jealousy and fury roaming in her tone, she never was one to like your friends. She assumed they took advantage of your kindness and innocence, but in Nat’s mind, so did she.
“Oh, yeah, sure.” Nat decided to let you go without argument, knowing that her plan had worked. The drink should only take a few hours to start working, and then, you’ll be all hers.
“See you soon, Y/N.” You waved in return with a small smile, clutching onto your girlfriend's forceful hold. Her fingers were interlaced with yours, creating redness the harder she squeezed.
“Sharon, you’re hurting me.” She stopped, turning to look at you with flared nostrils, her mouth slightly agape before a hand came up to your neck.
“You’re mine, you got that? Not Nat’s; mine.”
The month flew by quickly, most of your time being spent working or entertaining your girlfriend in your shared apartment. But something was different, something felt odd but you couldn’t quite explain it.
You didn’t know why you felt this way, but it felt as though a pit was formed at the bottom of your stomach, and every time Nat would be nearby, butterflies surrounded that cluster. Your brain would turn foggy and your pupils would dilate, these were all signs that you knew all too well. This is what you felt for Sharon; felt. Past context. Of course, you still cared for and loved her, but it wasn’t the same as before. Any time you’d share an intimate moment, you imagined your best friend. It only got worse the more you saw her, and the less you saw the blonde.
She had been on a mission for a week now and, you hated to admit it, but it felt almost relieving to have her gone. You loved her company, but you felt so guilty in her presence. Her absence also gave you time to think, but the only thing that would come to your mind is Nat. It’s gotten so bad that one night you awoke from a lustful dream where Nat was the star.
“Hey, babes.” The voice brought you out of your trance, causing you to jump before you saw who it was.
“Jesus, Nat, you scared me.” She chuckled with a small apology when you slapped her arm lightly, nearly shuddering as you felt the biceps bulging beneath her shirt.
“Did you just finish working out?” You asked curiously, although you already knew the answer.
“Yeah, Steve gave me a new schedule for once. Why, you need a training partner?” She hoped you’d say yes, that way she could be as close to you as possible.
“Uh, I was actually hoping you could help spot me. I want to hit a new PR.” She nodded while taking a sip of her water, her jawline seeming to shine perfectly under the light. You gulped, suddenly finding the floor much more important.
“Of course, you know I love helping my favorite Maximoff.”
“I’ll tell Wanda you said that.”
“Go ahead, I think we all know I’m not her favorite person either.”
The weights were heavy against you, but you continued to pull through with the help of the redhead. You couldn’t help but notice the proximity between you two, the thought sending you into waves of arousal. Her crotch was pressed against your ass, her arms hovering over your waist as her face was so close to your neck, you imagined her lips painting the skin with purple hickeys.
“C’mon, you can do more!” You whimpered as your legs struggled to lift you, Nat quickly stepping in to pull you up when realizing you couldn’t do it.
“I don’t know what’s wrong with me today, I can usually get at least six reps on that.” You sighed, biting your lip as your chest heaved for hope of oxygen.
“You’re distracted. What’s going on in that pretty little head of yours that has you so out of it?” She leaned down to become level with you as you crouched, lowering your head in annoyance.
“Nothing, alright? I’m just having an off day.” She huffed, clearly not believing your lie.
“You don’t need to lie to me, Y/N. Seriously, I’m your best friend, you can tell me anything.” Her hand came to your shoulder in what seemed a comforting gesture, but it only caused you to pull away.
“Maybe that’s the problem.” Her eyes widened slightly, her mouth parting as her eyebrows furrowed. You couldn’t bear to look at her face without being tempted to pull her in and kiss her then and there, confessing everything that had been brewing in your mind for what felt like years.
“What?”
“Maybe you’re my problem, Nat.”
“H-how? What did I do?” You didn’t give a response, causing her to ask again. She was worried her plan went to failure, maybe Wanda went behind her back to protect her sibling. No, she couldn’t have, Nat knew her well enough to know she fell for her manipulation so easily.
“Nothing, that’s the problem! You sit there, looking so fucking perfect all the damn time and I hate it! I hate how much I just want to hold you, and kiss you, and care for you, but I can’t have that. I can’t have you, Nat.” Her heart swelled in delight; it worked. The magic worked and now it was all in her hands, she wasn’t going to mess this up.
She quickly strutted forward, grasping the sides of your face as she pulled you in for a deep kiss, one that you melted into instantly. Sharon was completely ridden from your mind, all you cared about was this. Nat was here, you were her, everything else could come later.
“You don’t know how long I’ve been waiting to do this.” She pressed her lips to the side of your neck, inhaling the scent you radiated. You felt amazing in her arms, she never wanted to let go.
“Fuck, I need you so bad, Natty.” Your breath was short, your smile sending Nat into a trance. She wasn’t going to let you go, you were safe with her.
Wanda walked into the gym, noticing two bottles of water that had been knocked over. She furrowed her brows in confusion before a small sound came from the showers. She could sense it was you, but Sharon was still gone. That’s when it hit her, Nat’s bottle was right next to yours. It worked, the drink she created worked.
She felt so guilty, she never wanted to hurt you, but she knew your girlfriend would only cause harm. She didn’t know what to do, she could only hope you’d never find out. And if you did, she didn’t have a single clue about any of this.
#natasha romanoff imagine#natasha romanoff fanfiction#natasha romanoff au#natasha romanoff#natasha romanoff fanfic#natasha romanoff fanart#natasha romanoff smut#mcu natasha romanoff#natasha romanoff x reader#natasha romanoff mcu#natasha romanoff x you#natasha romanoff x female#natasha romanoff x reader fluff#natasha romanoff x fem!reader#natasha romanoff x gender neutral reader#natasha romanoff x reader angst#natasha romanoff x reader smut#natasha romanoff x female reader#black widow smut#black widow fluff#black widow angst#black widow x y/n#black widow x you#black widow#black widow x reader
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Rubber Ducky, You're the One
LUCIFER X READER
Summary: Lucifer has had a hell of a week, no pun intended. But you know just what he needs to relax.
Warnings: Implied nakedness, cussing. Rating: PG-13
For the wonderful @anon-of-the-void
REQUESTS OPEN
In the depths of Hell, amidst the chaos and cacophony of damned souls, Lucifer Morningstar, the charismatic and somewhat prideful King of Hell, found himself buried under the weight of his responsibilities. Yes, the King did actually work despite his duck inventing hyper focus. From managing the unruly demons to negotiating with powerful overlords and complaints from citizens, his days were consumed by the ceaseless demands of ruling the underworld. And as if that wasn't enough, the relentless manifestations of the seven deadly sins only added to his burdens(Mammon is a right pain in the arse)
Each day seemed to blend into the next, the weight of his crown growing heavier with every passing moment. Despite his unparalleled charm and wit, even Lucifer had his limits.
One particularly exhausting day, Lucifer trudged back to his imposing castle, his shoulders slumped with weariness. His mind buzzed with the endless tasks that awaited him, and his steps echoed with the weight of his concerns. The grand halls of his fortress felt suffocating, the shadows whispering reminders of his never-ending duties. His shoulders slumped with exhaustion, his usually vibrant demeanor dulled by the weight of his burdens.
As he entered his private chambers, he took off his top hat and sat his cane to prop against the adjacent wall. Walking to his desk and plopping down on the plush office chair, he groaned into his hands and buried his head in them.
Only when the small creak of his door sounded did he look up after what felt like hours. He was met with a sight that momentarily lifted the heavy veil of stress from his soul. There, amidst the dim glow of flickering candles, stood his beloved Y/N, radiant and serene, a gentle smile gracing her lips. They had been together for quite some time - the Hellish monarch getting a second chance at love despite thinking that the time for him was long passed.
"Welcome home, ducky," she greeted him, her voice like a soothing melody amidst the chaos of Hell.
Lucifer's heart swelled with warmth at the sight of her. Despite the darkness that surrounded them, Y/N was his beacon of light, his solace in the storm.
"Y/N," he murmured, his voice softened by the tenderness that enveloped him in her presence despite his tiredness still coming through.
"What are you doing here?"
Y/N stepped forward, her gaze unwavering as she reached out to take his hand. "I could tell you needed a break," she replied, her touch gentle yet reassuring. "And so, I thought I might help if you’ll allow me?"
“No, no darling. I’m alright.”
“Bullshit Luci.”
“You don’t have to take care of me.”
“I know but I choose to. Nothing in return is needed - I just want to dote on you.”
With a gentle tug, to which he did not fight against due to his weakened state, she led him to the grand marble bath that awaited them; its waters shimmering invitingly in the soft glow of candlelight. The sight of it stirred a sense of longing within Lucifer, a longing for respite, for a moment of peace amidst the chaos.
Wordlessly, Y/N began to undress him, her movements tender and deliberate. She stripped away the layers of his regal attire, each garment a symbol of the responsibilities he bore. And with each piece that fell away, Lucifer felt a weight lift from his soul, leaving him feeling vulnerable yet liberated in her presence. Y/N never failed to make the prideful demon shiver. Despite being the harbinger of sin himself, Lucifer always faltered under to gaze - making him feel so small in the best way. Like she could envelop him in her warm embrace and the world would all be alright; that he could be taken care of without fault or repayment(something he never felt with Lillith)
Once he was disrobed, Y/N guided him into the warm embrace of the bubbling waters, the scent of lavender and jasmine enveloping them both. With a soft sigh of contentment, Lucifer sank into the soothing depths, his muscles relaxing beneath the gentle caress of the water.
There, amidst the flickering candlelight, she began to test the water of the luxurious bubble bath with her finger, the scents filling the air with soothing lavender. And as he slipped into the steaming bath, surrounded by a frothy sea of bubbles, he felt the tension in his muscles melt away.
Y/N knelt beside the bath, a soft cloth in hand as she began to wash away the grime and tension that clung to his weary form. Her touch was firm, her hands moving with practiced care as she tended to him with unwavering devotion.
As she worked, Lucifer felt the knots of tension begin to unravel, his mind drifting into a state of blissful tranquility. In that moment, there was only the soothing warmth of the water, the gentle ministrations of Y/N, and the overwhelming sense of peace that washed over him like a cleansing tide. As Lucifer sank deeper into the soothing bubbles, he couldn't help but notice a playful glint in Y/N's eyes as she reached for something hidden behind her back.
"Darling," she said with a mischievous grin, "I have a surprise for you."
Intrigued, Lucifer raised an eyebrow as Y/N produced a bright yellow rubber ducky from behind her back, its cheery expression contrasting with the dark ambiance of the bath.
"A rubber ducky?" Lucifer chuckled, his exhaustion momentarily forgotten. "You never cease to amaze me, my dear."
Y/N giggled as she plopped the rubber ducky into the bathwater, its buoyant figure bobbing amidst the bubbles. "I thought it might lighten the mood," she said, her eyes sparkling with amusement.
Lucifer couldn't help but laugh as he reached out to retrieve the rubber ducky, holding it aloft with a sense of childlike wonder. "Well, I must say, it's a rather dashing addition to our bath time routine."
With a playful grin, Y/N leaned forward to gently boop the rubber ducky on the nose, causing it to squeak in protest. The sound echoed off the marble walls of the bathroom, filling the room with a sense of whimsy.
As the evening wore on and the bathwater cooled, Lucifer and Y/N reluctantly emerged from the luxurious depths of their tub. Wrapped in plush towels, they made their way to the cozy confines of their living room, where a crackling fire danced merrily in the hearth.
With a contented sigh, Lucifer settled onto the plush couch, pulling Y/N into his arms as they nestled together beneath a soft blanket. The warmth of the fire enveloped them, casting a soft glow upon their entwined forms.
"Tonight was exactly what I needed," Lucifer murmured, pressing a tender kiss to Y/N's forehead. "Thank you, my love."
Y/N smiled sleepily, her eyes drifting closed as she snuggled closer to him. "Anytime, darling. I'm always here for you."
#romance#hazbin hotel fandom#answered#vizziepop#radio killed the video star#request#lucifer hazbin hotel#lucifer morningstar x reader#lucifer imagine#lucifer x reader#lucifer x you#fluff#lucifer fluff#helluva boss mammon#helluva boss ozzie#overlords hazbin hotel#take that depression#rubber duck#duckies#lucifer duck#lucifer demon form#call me mommy#tooth rotting fluff#hazbin hotel lucifer
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Friends in the dark | m.r
In the shadowed halls of hogwarts, Mattheo Riddle, the enigmatic son of the feared Dark Lord, found himself grappling with conflicting emotions. The weight of his lineage bore heavily upon him, as did the burden of his own destiny. He was surrounded by whispers of power and conquest, yet a gnawing sense of emptiness gnawed at his heart.
Amidst the darkness, a glimmer of light emerged in the form of Y/N Potter, a witch who possessed a fiery spirit that matched her famous surname. Though they hailed from different worlds, their paths crossed one fateful evening during a clandestine encounter deep within the Forbidden Forest.
"I never thought I'd find anyone else wandering these woods at night." she said.
"Likewise. It's a place of solace for me." he replied
Their first meeting was marked by a sense of curiosity and wariness, an unspoken recognition of each other's struggles. Mattheo, accustomed to manipulation and deceit, found himself surprised by Y/N's genuine concern.
"You're Mattheo Riddle, aren't you?" she asked
“Yes, that's me."
She saw past the name he bore and glimpsed the boy within, trapped between loyalty and the longing for something more.
"You know… you don't have to be defined by your family. You have a choice."
As the moon cast its silvery glow upon the forest floor, Mattheo shared his fears and desires, confessing the internal conflict that tormented him.
"I'm torn between the path I've been born for and the one I secretly yearn for."
y/n in turn then voiced her worries
"Living up to the Potter name isn't easy. Everyone expects greatness from me because of harry."
Their conversations continued in secret, each encounter revealing more layers of their shared vulnerability. Mattheo discovered Y/N's passion for reading as well as poetry.
"You have bravery in you, Y/N. a certain type bravery I wish I could find within myself."
“maybe you just haven’t looked hard enough” the girl said giving him something to think about
Their bond deepened, and they found comfort in each other's presence.
"With you, I feel understood. I've never had that before." the boy voiced
"We're not as different as it seems. We both want something more." she replied
But their connection did not go unnoticed.
"Interesting company you keep, y/n." her friends would often say to her
hogwarts corridors became fraught with danger, and the choices they made could alter everything about their lives.
"We must be careful. Our friendship could have consequences." mattheo said one night before they sat and talked till the sun set.
In the heart of the forest, under the same moon that had witnessed their first meeting, Mattheo and Y/N vowed to support each other, and be each others lifeline.
"No matter what happens, we'll face it together." y/n made him promise one night
"Y/N, you've given me hope. Something I thought I'd lost."
the girl, in turn, found a confidante who understood the complexities of her world.
In the midst of a world torn between light and darkness, Mattheo Riddle and Y/N Potter discovered a rare and precious connection. United by their shared struggles and a shared desire for a different path, they forged a bond that would shape their destinies in ways neither could have anticipated. The love they shared couldn’t be described on paper
#harry potter#hogwarts#fanfic#slytherin#x reader#mattheo x you#mattheo riddle x reader#mattheo riddle
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— BLEED FOR ME | part iii
[masterlist]
mand’alor!vampire!din djarin x f!reader
rated e - 2.4k
haunted hoedown prompts: vampire!au + “i would burn the world for you.” + vampire has a taste for specific blood + revenge + (one-sided) enemies to lovers (+ 1 to be revealed!)
tags: vampire!au, drinking blood, reader has scar on shoulder, mentions of death, shared memories, light angst, references to seduction, sexual innuendo and thoughts, references to violence
The days until the winter solstice tick down. Early Autumn days start to cool at night.
You sleep under the last warmth of the sun, with windows drawn open after he leaves. The canopy is wrapped around your bed, letting in the afternoon breeze but mimicking the darkness.
And still, you feel adrift. That funny feeling is still settling in your stomach. Rolling with the sway of your step as you follow at the Mand'alor's - Din's - heels.
No longer seating across the room in the throne room. Now next to him, in a golden seat that matches his silver one.
Listening as he conducts his business. Trades and agreements, settled firmly and carefully. A disagreement, broken up without violence.
It’s fascinating.
But it feels... wrong. Your own task seeps into the honor of being at his side, polluting it. You're expected to enjoy it, to look happy, and it's become all too easy to forget what happened - why you were here.
Too wrapped up in the quiet questions he asks, in those moments of dusk and dawn. Half truths becoming whole as you guard slowly lowers. As you begin to learn about him, as well.
Things he tells you. Things you pick up, absorbing greedily without thought.
It feels like a betrayal, later.
How could you forget what happened? How could you forget your promise?
His kindness only extends because you are physically keeping him alive. You should have ended things by now.
But, you haven't.
The guilt gnaws at you. Seeping into your dreams, into those moments of connection, when your eyes can't help but close.
The images so much more vivid, now. Almost a tangibility to them - the quick, blurred edges coming into focus. Repeating, growing longer.
So much seems to focus on that night. You think it's because it still haunts you. Replaying how the shouts had awoken you. That startled feeling as you crawled out of bed.
The shadows on the walls, the weak and watery grey sky. Soon turning red, and then black - with flame and smoke.
A glint of gold. Your grandmother's necklace, lying on the bedside table. A photo of their wedding day inside, painted with such care.
Something you wish you could have saved - one of the few relics from your family, a gift from when you had left them to find your purpose.
You had always wished for a love like theirs. A fated connection.
There’s a throb as you remember the collision - something solid that knocked you to the ground. Fingers coming back sticky, your mouth tasting of copper. The visions always swim, then.
Parts you've never been able to remember, before. Always growing dim, until you'd been woken up under the tree, and it was over.
But lately, there's more. As if you're outside your own body. The limp sway of your arm, dangling as you were carried. The murmur of a low voice, though you can’t make out the words. Dark eyes looking down at you, almost brown in the morning light.
There's a sharp edge of a knife that you always walk.
Torn between pressing, nudging - trying to get get a glimpse of the vampires, the destruction. A way to remind yourself what has happened, why you are here.
And then, not wanting to see.
What if it's something you can't take back? What if it disgusts you so much that you can't help but act in that exact moment - ruining your chance?
So, you don't.
You let the images pass - carefully collecting them. Pressing them lkke flowers between a book, something to come back to layer. Not even realizing that deep, deep down...
You’re really just hoping that you don't see him.
You really shouldn’t have gone down to the kitchens.
A heat still burns in your cheeks at the thought, when you finally made your way back to your room. Your treasure procured - a freshly baked pastry with homemade jam clutched in your fingers.
The food here is the best you’ve ever had. You can admit that, at least. All the Companions are well-fed, with treats and delicacies always left out downstairs.
It’s here, that you had found a few others.
Beautiful men and women, all gathered around a smoldering fire as the sun had begun to rise. Their other halves flitting off to hole up until nightfall.
But just like you - there was a desire to see the sun, at least.
You had joined them, half out of loneliness and half intrigue. They had accepted you quickly, stifled laugher and glances over their shoulder as they had whispered questions.
“So how is the Mand’alor? I’ve always wondered.”
“You don’t have any marks. Does he drink from your-”
An elbow then to her side, her words had cut off with a giggle. A head turned- an aside to her friend.
“Lady Kryze is always so thorough. I haven’t slept in days.”
Someone else had sighed.
“What I wouldn’t give to be Lord Fett’s Companion.”
You had realized there’s desire in their words. That none of them were afraid, that there was a sense of private camaraderie and knowing amongst them.
That unsettling, confused feeling comes back. They were human, like you. Did they not know what the vampires did? Were they so shallow that coin and finery had bought their loyalty?
Their eyes were on you, expectant. You had no choice but to shrug with embarrassment.
“I don’t know what you mean.”
They were quick to set you straight.
“It’s like, a feeling, you know?”
“You have to lean into it. That connection.”
“The first time I tried it, I had marks up and down my thighs by morning.”
There was an eagerness that laced with jealousy, leaving you even more bemused than before. Faking a prior engagement as you had left them, promising to give it a try.
Privately, you told yourself you wouldn’t.
You couldn’t.
Looking back, you can’t even remember the taste of the jam, what fruit it was. All you could think about is this new facet of their relationships.
Wondering if that will be expected of you. Wondering why you weren’t warned.
Wondering if you cared.
Wouldn’t that be a good way to get closer?
The thought makes you uneasy.
You’d put an end to this. But you weren’t so cold-hearted to stoop to seduction. That wouldn’t be fair, to Din.
But as the sun rises, when he comes back.
When his mouth is pressing against your wrist, when you’re looking at the bow of his lips and the wide breadth of his armor, that wondering comes again.
The thoughts creep in.
For he is handsome… the parts of him you have seen. A rich voice and the breadth of his shoulders in his armor. The little upward tick of his lips in a rare smile.
And you are human, after all.
You find yourself imagining marks on yours thighs, on the soft curve of your neck.
How your blood would throb, rushing down to pool beneath heated skin - wet and swollen. The thud of your heartbeat kicks up a notch, as your thighs press together. As you squirm in your seat.
You don’t know his face but you do know his mouth. It’s his teeth you picture sinking into your skin, your mind nudging curiously at the thought.
It sends a jolt down your spine. Pricking at your skin, heat licking at your chest and down to your belly. Then slipping lower. Your breath catches in your throat-
His grip on you tightens, then. It’s almost painful - startling you. A hushed cry rattles from your lungs as he pulls back with a rough gasp.
“Ulyc, cyar’ika.” Din’s voice is ragged, as his hips shift upward - letting go, as you pull your wrist back to your chest, “I’m sorry. But you can’t-”
He doesn’t get the chance to finish his thought. A knock at the open doorway, Boba’s face grave as it turns your way.
“Mand’alor.” His voice is low, his brows drawn together. “The city, it calls for you.”
Din’s chest still heaves, his hand dragging across his mouth as he composes himself. The helmet sliding back into place as he stands, but still keeping himself close to you.
“Wolves?” He asks.
Boba shakes his head, “Raiders, from the looks of it. Like before. I can send someone, or go myself.”
You forget about the pain, about everything, for just a second. The thought of the town below in ruins sends you back to a year ago, sorrow twisting through your chest.
It has you half-standing, but Din’s hand is pressing against your shoulder, carefully easing you back down.
“I’ll go.” His voice is firm, “This has gone on long enough.”
A second, as he turns to you, “I need to take care of this. Boba will look out for you while I’m gone.”
Something like worry creeps in. Aware of the weak light that slips through the cracks of your curtains, how soon it will be morning.
“The sun…” You begin hesitantly, and he’s stepping closer.
“I’ll be fine.” His fingertips touch your jaw and that has you looking up - wishing once again that you could see his eyes.
Giving him just a small nod, instead.
From your window you watch him leave. The glint of his silver armor in the morning sun, now - his movements practiced as he swings a leg over the slate-grey horse.
Drawing his sword - the metal dark and gleaming and looking almost alive, even as far away as you are.
Watching as he gallops down the path, racing off to ward away the threat.
Leaving you inside the castle, to wait.
You worry turns into something else, as the hours pass.
Anger, at the thought of him rushing off to save this town, when he had launched an attack on yours. Did human life mean so little?
Did he even think about the bodies that had lied littering the streets, the memories that has been torn down?
Was it only because these humans were complicit, that they were spared?
You had awoken to screams. You don’t know if your town had even been asked.
The mark on your wrist stays red, unhealed. A reminder while he is gone. That you’ve slipped too far, that you need to get over the tender feelings you’ve pretended not to notice.
They fester inside your chest. You dream about him while he’s gone, as the day bleeds into another.
His face bare, features blurry above the lips and nose you know so well. Leaving you to wonder if his eyes are red, like the glimpses you’ve gotten of Lady Kryze? Are they burgundy, like Boba’s?
Replaying the sound he had made, the morning that he left. The edge his voice takes just after he feeds, lasting through the few moments he stays afterwards. That pulsing, thudding beat that leaves you squirming, when you’re alone again.
Leaving you with the urge to sink your own teeth into something.
Those thoughts are ruled by your heart, not your mind, not your logic. Another betrayal, your eyes unable to help flicking towards the window, again and again.
Looking to the others throughout the day, checking for any news or weakness.
A sign that he’s fallen.
None come.
You try not to think about the relief that follows. Or why you feel listless, your eyes dragging over the same words in the books you pick up, in an attempt to pass the time.
Your enthusiasm for the food waning - more in tune than ever with the hours that pass.
Still wondering about the town, below.
You had spoken to some, in your journey here. They had been good people, honest folk.
Maybe along the way, there had been a mistake. An itch in your brain that you haven’t been able to scratch, irritating you since you arrived.
You’ve decided to ask Fennec about it.
Not about anything that would raise suspicion.
Just why the Mand’alor himself would feel the need to go alone. What sort of promise he had made, to go rushing off with such intensity?
Maybe then, you could understand.
You find her by accident - in a large ballroom that you often cut through.
The ceiling painted in a wash of colors, accented in gold. Seraphs lying on clouds and sprawling gardens and somehow always feeling bright, even in the dim room.
Liking the way your feet echo, in the empty room. A swing in your step as if you were dancing too, even if just pretend.
But you’re not alone today - she sits in one of the plush alcoves. Arms bared where her shirt pushes up, a dark jerkin slung over one of the marble statues that line the walls.
"I'm sorry-" You manage, attempting to back out of the room. The moment looked private - your question could wait.
Her eyebrow lifts, looking unbothered, "You can come in, I'm just preparing."
The way she lounges is casual, as if she does this regularly. Propped up against a nest of pillows, a book opened against her bent knees. An arm draped to the side, an ooze of red that drips down to a half-full goblet below.
A jar of that same salve Din had given to you sits in the open windowsill, for after. A means to wipe the mark from her skin, to knit it neatly together again.
The sight makes your stomach turn, even after all this time.
"Are you leaving, too?" Your head nods towards the cup, as you linger in the doorway - thinking about what Boba had said about her ferocity.
Her brows pinch in question, as you gesture to her arm.
"No," Fennec's head shakes, as she understands. "This is our arrangement."
"I didn't know you could do it another way." You say this without thought - wondering if this had been what Din was offering, that first night. An alternative to biting - another small attempt at adjusting to your comfort.
"I tried the usual way." She shrugs, eyes dropping down at the text, "This is better, for us. It's tedious, for certain. But I've never enjoyed the connection. Boba's memories are..."
Fennec searches for the word, as you go still, "...Unpleasant. And I am sure mine are worse."
His memories.
Is that what you've been seeing? Those flashes of thought that blend with your own, when his teeth sink into your skin?
But how can they be, when you are in them?
"But, I am sure that's different for you." Her expression is sly, lips curving in a small smirk. A sharp glimmer replacing the far-away look in her eyes, coming back from her own evocation.
"What do you mean?" You ask, your voice sounding far away.
Dazed, as if the words are taking their time on their trip from your thoughts to your tongue.
That look comes back. As if you're on two different brainwaves, as if she isn't understanding what you're asking.
"Well, I thought that would be obvious. We’re not like you…" Fennec frowns, her head tilting. A breath, as she clarifies.
"Boba isn't my mate."
Ahh and the last Secret Prompt from the list is soulmates / fated mates! 💕 thank you so much for reading! If you’d like a tag for the last 2 parts, please let me know!
Ulyc, cyar’ika - “careful, beloved”
(Tags: @dameron-grant-spector, @sugadolly, @writingsofestella, @spaceydragons, @-ohsolovely-, @survivingandenduring, @queenquazar, @alitaar, @dindjarinsslut, @avarkriss)
#din djarin x reader#din djarin x you#din djarin x female reader#din djarin x f!reader#din djarin imagine#haunted hoedown#hauntedhoedown
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Marry a Venus in 8h or Scorpio
While Scorpio and 8th House have some similarities: need for transformation, interest in deep and dark matters, intensity of emotions; they are still different as in 8th house deals with other people's money, a secretive life, lots of secrets, dealing with partnership, death and rebirth.
What is seen with these natives, especially ladies, is that their relationship or marriage is never "stable". You see how ladies like to flaunt their husbands, post pictures and how much they love their partner to social media and be in public eye? But these natives are the kind to hide their relationship. As if it is not true love if it needs public approval. Also, we see how couples stay the same way 5+ or 15+ years later as if nothing has changed; but for these 8th houser couples, they reborn so many times that they don't even know who they were 5 months back. Two different types of lives!
Here, the wife and husband/girlfriend and boyfriend are both cynical type, suspicious, reading people, their intentions, behaviour, motivations, emotions. They never relax until they get to the root of any matter and then pick another matter and question, question, question everything. Trust is important to them, even more than euphoria of love.
Why Trust?
Their life theme is usually that their childhood and relationship history are such that it is twisted, confusing, as if they were sleepwalking through a relationship and never really there. For this reason, when the relationship finally breaks down, they begin to realize how it was all just a delusion! Here, a relationship or situationship is the catalyst to bring all childhood memories to the surface and healing is a prerequisite to a better improved relationship. But all this is not easy! When they awaken from the state of "sleepiness" then their reality is shifted! Oh, I missed that red flag! Oh-he was keeping secrets from me! Oh, that was manipulation tactic! Oh, he was just like my father!! Their reality is shattered and results in cognitive dissonance, chaos, breakdown, obsessive rumination, ego dissolves, problems with self concept come to surface. "Healing" for them means to work on their Self Concept, that is, identity, confidence, self respect, boundaries, getting rid of emotional brain fog, learning what a relationship is supposed to look like, learning individuation.
8th house Venus is natural shadow worker. She intuitively knows the traits, flaws, faults, motivations, darkness and morbidity in other people. But her tendency is to integrate those dark parts in herself which is why 8H dissolves the boundary between right and wrong, bad and good, moral and immoral. To understand herself, she understands other humans. Not just the light and positive parts but the psychopathic, criminal, morbid, terrifying, scary human psychology. It is like food to her soul, to know the suffering and pain in the world. A sadist or a spiritually awakened being?
Since cognitive dissonance is a big thing for her, her no 1 priority in relationship is someone whom she can trust. Someone who will maintain her reality, will be honest, give her emotional security and keep her mentally stable. A dishonest or deceptive lover is her nightmare because the chaos of "figuring out my boyfriend" will drain her. She needs someone who is transparent and self aware so that her emotions are stablized and fears under control.
Husband
Like attracts like. Boyfriend/husband himself is mirror to these ladies. He is also suspicious, cynical, peeling layers of emotions, craving depth, has unstable self concept unless he is actively working on it, jealousy and possessive are not cute things, they are symptoms of weak Self concept. Since both parties are similar in nature, they understand each other. But not every marriage is that fulfilling! Sometimes partners are really incompatible or the awakening never happens, 8th house never activates. So, just 8th placement is not enough but the timing and dasha will determine how spiritual, healer, psychic they are.
Partner may have this past history, all or any of them:
Man with trauma, dark childhood
Loving a man with dark past
Scapegoat of his family
Fragile masculinity, emasculated by society
Emotionally neglected by his parents
Her man needs healing, security and understanding
He is a hunter type, fears abandonment, controlling
Mommy issues, his mom was a dragon, devours him, he is afraid of his femininity
Man is psychically penetrating, hyperalert, always reading the room, sensitive to energy, psychic types
Most Important
If Venus is in 8th house, this marriage is life changing. Transformative. Significant status difference between maiden life and married life. "Woah! She married that gentleman! He is so rich." Like in Pride and Prejudice, Elizabeth Bennett marries Mr. Darcy who is high class, wealthy and royalty type. There is something luxurious, old money, typical about this marriage. A typical politically connected or socially prestigious family. Sometimes people say 8th house is Karmic, fated, to let go control, money owed to them. I wonder if it is their husband who is paying back her debts to her? Is that why marriage transforms her life? Is marriage a karmic contract to pay back her loan given to husband? Perhaps it is.
Forced to Inner World
At some point in her life, she realized that her life was not quite same as others. She got aware of "psyche" something which has no evidence and is not scientific or physically seen. But for these natives, they are intuitively aware of psyche and how it surrounds us everywhere. In Man and His Symbols, Dr. Carl Jung says how the primitive people were so unconscious that they simply acted on their impulses and the images they saw in their head. They even thought that the animals and trees were their soul/spirit and were deeply submerged in the unconscious. 8th house is like that state of unconsciousness and then you come to awareness with a shock and again go back to unconsciousness. We are living in a flow state and only when something crisis, emergency or catastrophic happens that we awaken and soon go back to the flow state. That "awakening" is the hallmark of this house.
Another thing to be seen here is that these natives are forced to live in the inner world. They do not choose spirituality but have no choice - are forced to choose it. Since their emotions and conscience are quite sharp, they "feel" their way through life. (Trigger warning death) Let's say you killed your parents' dog accidentally and hid it in their own backyard and then lied about it to your parents when they asked where dog is. As the days go by, you feel that regret growing larger and larger. It creeps on you, eats you from inside, feels heavy in your body. That "I did something wrong" feeling never goes away. Imagine living with that feeling 24x7, that is your conscience.
For these natives, their conscience is just hyperactive. It is their guide through life. If they dismiss their conscience, they are faced with external consequences in physical life. There is a saying "As above, so below" which fits to these natives, which means that the inner life and outer life are just the reflection of each other. If we sit back to think about the past, we realize how everything is connected to everything else. That nothing was random. Self-reflection and pattern seeking are highlighted in this house. Any planet that is placed in 8th or 12th house is partially submerged in the underworld and the only way to maintain a life is to dig that "hidden" something. Occult tools, psychoanalysis, reading people, meditation are really helpful to make the unconscious comprehensible. This way they can even avoid the unnecessary unpreditable sufferings of this house.
I have seen how native if lives absent mindedly, without thinking of their actions, they always face instant karma in physical life or the psychic life. In psychic world, they feel guilt, unexplainable regret, negative emotions, shame, depression, etc. If they ignore these symptoms for too long, it will all explode with a blast BUT the healing will finally begin. For the sake of your mental stability, keep doing self reflection and avoid unnecessarily events and suffering.
It takes some time and understanding to realize what Self awareness means. The society we live in, cultural and social behaviours are contrary to self awareness. We live in an extraverted, materialistic, narcissistic society; you have to just be opposite of that -- introverted, spiritual and empathetic. These natives are not born healers, they are wounded healers. They may even feel external locus of control and surrender to psychic forces because their life is just so stormy.
My only advice is: To keep your eyes open! Just because your friends or some celebrities can indulge in behaviours and get away with it, it does not mean that you can too. Instant Karma is something that happens in 8th housers life a lot. Once you identify it, you can then change your behaviour and language to avoid these suffering.
#astro community#astro notes#astro placements#astro tumblr#astroblr#astro observations#astrology#astrology blog#astro#astrology community#astrology notes#astrology observations#astrology tumblr#astronotes#sidereal astrology#vedic astro notes#vedic astrology#Venus in 8th house
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Your Cult Leader
18+ Explicit Smut 🚫minors DNI🚫
Cult leader! music producer! Geto x AFAB! popstar! reader loosely inspired by The Idol (just the dynamic between the two, but in this AU Suguru’s not a psycho POS like the guy is in the show, so no gross themes) where they have sex in the studio.
Relevant tags: light dirty talk, oral sex (AFAB! reader receiving) penetrative sex, missionary/mating press, established relationship of sorts (not together but not not together either…you have a situationship with a hot, rich, talented producer/cult leader Suguru so), he uses the term of endearment “love” once, addresses you without the use of “y/n”
Recommended music while reading: One Of The Girls (The Weeknd, Jennie, Lily Rose Depp), A Lesser Man (The Weeknd), and Double Fantasy (The Weeknd, Future)
Read below cut:
“Ugh,” you groan in frustration, hitting the spacebar on the keyboard in front of you to pause the track. Beside you, Suguru shifts to lean on his knuckles, looking at you curiously.
“Hmm? What’s the matter?”
“It’s not sounding right,” you answer, “Something’s off but I can’t quite place it.”
“Mmm,” he hums, sucking in a breath. “Well, you have been at it like this since after lunch. It’s almost midnight now. You haven’t even eaten yet. Maybe you should take a break.”
“No,” you shake your head, “It’s right there, I just…”
Suguru’s hand slides over yours, thumb gently running over your knuckles. “We talked about you overworking yourself. It isn’t good for you or your creativity.”
You look at him and frown. “Suguru, I know you want me to take better care of myself, but—”
“Your body is your temple,” he interrupts you, pushing his chair closer to yours so that they touch. “Didn’t I teach you that? You need to treat it as if it was sacred. It is sacred. Starving yourself and working off of fumes is only going to drive you to burnout.”
His dark eyes hold yours, and that familiar flutter inside your stomach starts up again—Suguru is a beautiful man, and you thought so the minute you met him at that party for your friend’s album release a few months ago. Right now, under the dim, warm lighting of the studio’s LED lights, he looks just as mesmerizing.
His long, dark hair falls in layered tendrils down his shoulders, beside his gauges, framing his face perfectly, making for the perfect precursor for his gentle eyes, perfectly centered nose, and soft lips. His black shirt lays over his muscular chest unbuttoned at the top to show off his collarbones, sleeves rolled up to his elbows, tucked into his black slacks, held up by an expensive belt. As always, he just exudes power. It drives a thrill through you that only he is capable of producing.
“Did I lose you in there?” He asks with an amused smile, bringing you back to yourself. You avert your eyes, shaking your head.
“Sorry. Got distracted.”
He’s silent for a moment. “I think I have a way to solve all of your problems.”
You return your gaze to his face just as he moves his touch down to your thigh, bare due to the shorts you elected to wear this morning. His hand is hot, spreading tingles up your spine like he’s firing off every single one of your nerves on purpose.
“What is it?”
“I’ve talked about it before,” he begins, “But creativity comes from the Sacral chakra. You know where it is, right?”
You draw in a breath, starting to realize where he’s going with this. You two have talked about Suguru’s unique beliefs before. He draws from many different religions and philosophies to create what he calls ‘the one true religion’, one he insists would solve all world conflict if everyone just subscribed to it. So far, everything he’s said makes sense to you.
The human body is, as he said, a temple for the soul, a special sort of energy taken from a piece of the Universe so that it can experience itself. There’s a lot of things he’s said, but right now, the important thing is that he believes bodies have energy points where different types of energy can interact with a human and either take away or give to their soul if activated. These energy points are chakra points, taken from Hinduism and Buddhism, the latter being one of Suguru’s favorite philosophies due to how ‘true’ it is.
You remember he said there are seven chakra points. The one for creativity is…
He moves his hand up your thigh slowly, causing you to breathe deeply, palm slinking up your hip to your abdomen just below your navel.
“Right here,” he tells you. “The sacral chakra is the energy point for both creativity and sexual pleasure. Do you know why that is?”
You blink. He had just explained what they are, but not why or how they’re connected. “No. Not exactly.”
“This is where your womb is,” he explains. “You create there, don’t you? If you were to accept someone’s seed, you’d create life. That’s why it’s both.”
You breathe out, starting to feel a little warm. “That…that makes sense.”
“Doesn’t it?” He agrees with a smile. “Now. You’re having trouble figuring out how to create this song, right? What we need to do is stimulate it.”
Ah, you think. That’s his point. You look at him, taking in the relaxed glint of lust in his eyes, and decide to play along. “How do we stimulate the womb?”
“Well, sacral chakra is all things pertaining to sexual pleasure. So if I make you feel good, I’m activating it.”
You nod, biting on the nail of your thumb. “Well…I have no creativity right now. So do your worst.”
A grin spreads across his lips. “My worst? Are you sure?”
Sex with Suguru is always a wild card. You never know what you’re going to get with him. Sometimes he’s sweet and slow, praising you like you’re his personal divine deity, and sometimes he’s railing you within an inch of your life, bent over the nearest surface, filth spilling from his lips.
“Or your best. Whichever you prefer,” you reply, subtly challenging him to take his pick, to chose how to make you fall apart. The control is his to have.
“Mmm,” he smirks. “I like the sound of that.”
Faster than you can comprehend, he’s out of his seat and grabbing you by the hips, hoisting you up and onto the coffee table where your manager and other producers sit during the day, right behind the mixing table.
He has your shorts off in record time, tossed to the floor unimportantly, and his right hand goes right for the apex of your thighs, rubbing his thumb over your underwear-clad sensitive center in teasingly gentle strokes.
You feel every time his nail grazes that spot, the pearl he seems to know how to work as if only he was given the manual to it.
“Suguru,” you breathe, leaning up on your elbows to see him. He smiles softly at you, lazy gaze fixed on your face.
“Relax,” He tells you, “Just focus on my touches.”
You listen, letting yourself lay back all the way. You even close your eyes, hearing him shuffle, keeping his hand on you. It only moves when it hooks at the fabric and pushes it out of the way.
Exposed to the air abruptly, you gasp quietly, but that gets replaced by an even louder gasp as a hot, wet tongue slides right over the neediest part of you.
“Suguru,” you exhale, biting your lip as he does it again, hands bracing your hips to keep you still.
“You’re so beautiful,” he says, hot breath fanning over your pelvis. “And you taste good, too.”
Your face gets hot. “Don’t stare. It’s embarrassing.”
“Like I said,” he replies, wetly kissing your mound. “Your body is a temple. And I intend to worship it.”
His face is buried in you in the next instance, licking a fat stripe over you before flicking his tongue rapidly, stimulating all of your nerves at once.
“Suguru,” you gasp. “Oh fuck…”
He slurps lewdly, groaning, swirling his tongue in the way he knows drives you insane.
“Suguru,” you mewl again, arching up. He sucks intently, right hand moving down the inside of your thigh to where wetness has been pooling since he started touching you.
When his finger prods at your folds, you flinch, sensitive to the touch, and he becomes more bold, slipping two inside at once.
“Ah,” you moan loudly, pushing your hips down on his hand. His fingers are long and thick inside of you, curling up and fucking at a focused, teasing pace.
“We should record your sounds,” he states, “I’d use them in a track. Hmm…but then I’d get jealous when other people hear them.”
He adds a third finger, wrapping his lips around your pearl and running his tongue up and down, pulling another ragged moan from your throat.
“You’re mine,” He continues in a pant, coming up for air. “All mine. Aren’t you?”
“Yes,” you reply without hesitation. This man is all you could ever need. No one else could satisfy you like he can.
“Beautiful,” he breathes, rewarding your loyalty by flicking his tongue again, causing you to tighten around him. He fucks his fingers harder, getting excess slick on the table. You grind down, feeling that coil wind tighter and tighter in your core.
When he flattens his tongue and flutters it over your mound at the same time he curls his fingers up, you’re done for, orgasm hitting you in a dizzying wave of pleasure.
“Suguru, Suguru,” you drawl out, hands threading in his hair as he kisses your puffy apex through the bliss. When he lifts his head, his mouth is covered in your essence, and he looks impossibly fucking hot.
“How do you feel?” He asks, “Feeling inspired yet?”
You blink. Inspired? Who the hell knows. You’re horny as hell and you want this gorgeous man to fuck you so hard you see stars, being one be damned.
“I still feel stuck.”
He feigns a pout of sympathy, raising himself up on his knees.
“We can't have that, now can we?” He asks you, and now that he’s kneeling on his knees, you can see his body clearly. Your eyes draw onto the obvious, big bulge under his belt buckle, and heat surges through you. You want that. Now.
“I need more inspiration.”
He grins, standing up and scooping you up into his arms, stepping around the coffee table to lay you out on the leather sofa behind it. He pulls the waistband of your underwear down your legs, letting them fall to the floor.
You then watch as he undoes his belt, hands working at the buckle expertly to unlatch it. He then pulls it open, not bothering to take it off before he undoes his buttons and zipper, pushing his boxers down far enough to let himself spring free.
The sight of his red, hard cock never ceases to fan the flames of your fire for him, no reservations in your heart as he kneels on the cushion, getting between your willingly spread legs.
He smiles down at you and grabs his member, guiding it to rub against your dripping folds.
“Mmh,” you breathe, grinding against him needily.
“This way, I can transfer some of my creativity to you,” He says, “How does that sound?”
Anything to make him enter you.
You nod, reaching up and grabbing his firm biceps through his shirt.
“Please, Suguru,” you say, “Need it.”
And you don’t mean the creativity.
The man above you grins, letting his tip catch on your entrance and pushing in without hesitation.
He sinks in slowly, letting you feel the stretch of his thick girth, the heat of his bare cock inside of you.
“Fuck,” you curse, and he leans down, pressing a kiss to your temple.
“So tight,” he murmurs, pulling back and thrusting back in languidly, doing it again a few times to get you used to him, a dull ache seating inside you at the sensation. The fact that it hurts a little bit makes your heart beat faster, and you angle your hips up, desperate to give him better access.
He huffs an amused laugh, putting more energy into his movements and speeding up.
“Ah,” you gasp, nails digging into his arms. “Yes, Suguru…”
“Does that feel good?” He asks, slightly winded, and you nod, swallowing thickly.
“So good,” is your response, one of your hands running up the expanse of his shoulder to his neck, up to cup his jaw. He leans into the touch, even turning his head to kiss your palm. It causes you to flutter around him, and he groans at the feeling, picking up his pace even more.
You pull your knees back more towards your chest as best as you can without your hands to help, making room for him to go deeper. It causes his tip to push against your cervix, and it pulls a high-pitched gasp from you.
“That’s it,” he pants, leaning down over you, sliding his hands underneath your arms to grip your shoulders, balancing on his elbows to drive harder into you, hitting that spot every single time he pushes in. “Oh, fuck yes…”
It’s breathy, and the knowledge that you are the one making him lose his composure heightens your euphoria. You look up into his eyes, which are only a few inches from yours now.
He gives you a loose smile. “Getting inspiration?”
You laugh despite yourself. “Yeah…fuck yeah I am…”
“Good,” he grins, “Never hurts to give more, does it?”
You wonder what he means for a mere moment before he stops thrusting for a moment to hike your legs up, hooking your knees on his shoulders and then leaning back down to grab your waist, effectively bending you in half.
“Shit,” you hiss, eyes widening when he starts a grueling pace up. “Suguru!”
“Fuck,” he curses, the slap of your wet skin meeting over and over again bouncing off the sound-treated walls along with your mixed pants to make a song only the two of you can create together.
His dark hair hangs down over your face, hot breaths hitting your skin rhythmically, and he lowers himself fully to kiss you, tongue sliding into your mouth to claim you in yet another way. Your eyes shut to enjoy the sensation of two parts of him inside you, kissing back greedily, fisting your hands in his hair.
He groans lowly when you pull, knowing he likes it, putting more vigor into the way he kisses you, almost like he’s trying to devour your soul.
His hips keep slamming against yours, walls sore with the exertion of having been pushed to the limits. He’s relentless and you think about how you’ll feel him there even tomorrow, and what a welcome thought that is.
You pull harder on his hair and he responds by biting your bottom lip, feeding you a winded groan. The primal scent of your kiss buzzes around in your senses, melding with his heady jasmine cologne, concocting your own personal brand of heroin. You feel him everywhere, and the weight of his firm body covering yours is something you could never recreate without him.
You’re so lost in your own pleasure that you don’t notice his thrusts starting to turn erratic until he breaks the kiss to gasp for air.
“You feel so good,” he pants, “Now I’m inspired.”
That does something to you. This man, who is always at the top of the charts, collaborating with A-list artist after A-list artist is inspired by you, by the sex that you’re giving him. It inflates your ego to a staggering point and you brush his bangs from his eyes, looking deeply into them. A warm feeling spreads through your chest, that familiar danger zone when you’re around Suguru for too long coming into sight once again.
You know he’s off-limits. Between balancing the group he’s leading and his full-time job as a producer, he’s busier than any other man you know, and you aren’t naive enough to delude yourself into thinking he reserves himself solely for you.
He’s a gorgeous man. He’s talented, charismatic, and as a result he has people worshiping the ground he walks on. He can have anyone and everyone he wants, and as a man as powerful as he is, who would he be not to indulge himself? He’s a god among men, and you’ve resigned yourself to being one of his earthly concubines with the self-assurance that you’re among his favorites.
He spends a majority of his free time with you, and when he’s busy he calls when he can. He texts you to ask how you are, makes sure that you stay out of trouble, and he protects you from slimy industry heads ready to take advantage of you. You go to his penthouse so much you’ve started leaving clothes and belongings there, but you know he could switch up at any moment, so you refuse to acknowledge what is trying to burrow its way into your heart when you look at him.
Except, when he smiles so charmingly at you like he is, pupils blown and lips kissed swollen, it’s so hard not to fall for him.
His eyes slide shut and his brows furrow, sucking his lip between his teeth as he concentrates his thrusts to hit that one spot inside of you that has you seeing the cosmos.
“Ah!” You cry, “Suguru, Suguru…”
The pleasure undulates up your body like electric currents, making you over-sensitive. You can feel his big hands holding your waist so tightly you know it’ll bruise, yet another future reminder he was on top of you.
“That’s it,” he praises, “Come on, I know you’re close, love.”
Love.
Your eyes snap open again and he’s back to watching your face with a gentle expression. You want to say something but find your words robbed, an intensifying heat building and building deep at your center.
“Suguru,” you gasp, hands grappling at his shoulders, nails digging into the flesh there for purchase. It won’t stop, your climax approaching faster and faster, and he doubles down on his thrusts, aiming his cock so precisely you think for a moment you might die of pleasure. “Suguru…”
“You’re right there,” he urges, warm baritones lighting you up from the inside, “Come on, come on, show me how good it is…”
It hits you more abruptly than you’re prepared for. Your entire body tenses up and you throw your head back, arching up as you shout his name desperately, “Suguru! Oh my god, Suguru, Suguru…”
You tighten on him and gush around his length, the sensations faltering his pace, and he moans loudly above you, hips stuttering. Then you feel it. A ticklish, warm sensation inside of you, his release spilling right against your cervix as he presses as far as he can go.
“Fuck,” he groans brokenly, rolling his hips languid against yours, burying his nose in your neck and leaving sloppy kisses there. You wrap your arms around his neck and hold him close, relishing in the sensation of him in and all around you. He’s never finished inside you before—you’ve always had protection. Blearily, you wonder what it means that he has, but you don’t want to bring it up right now. It would just break through the veil of bliss you’re in, and you don’t want to leave it yet.
The two of you stay locked like that until the stiffness of your muscles starts making itself known, and he pushes himself off of you, pulling out carefully. You wince in sensitivity, and he rubs your thigh soothingly. His eyes fix on your entrance, thoroughly used and dripping with your mixed releases.
“Shit,” he breathes, “You look good like this…”
You feel your face heat up, legs closing now that he’s not between them anymore. “We need to clean up.”
He laughs softly, leaning over and grabbing some tissues from the coffee table.
“You’re right. I’ll get to it.”
He painstakingly takes care of you first, wiping up all of the fluids you two exchanged from your body and then the leather couch before taking care of himself, tossing the tissues into the trash can by the door. He bends down and grabs the underwear you had on from the floor, fixing them in his hold to slide you back into them.
“How do you feel?” He asks, sitting beside you as you slowly get to a seated position.
“Thoroughly fucked,” you reply bluntly, and he laughs, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you into his lap. You curl into the crook of his neck, closing your eyes. “But also…very inspired.”
“Yeah?” He asks, rubbing the outside of your leg gently. “Good.”
You want to stay in his arms for the rest of the night, but you are in the studio to work. So, you summon the willpower to get off of the couch, moving to go back to the desk when he pulls you back down.
“Where do you think you’re going?” He asks, a playful lilt to his voice.
“To work,” you answer, heart racing as he smiles at you.
“So soon? Let me hold you for a little while.”
You want to ask what it means that he wants to do that with you, but a larger, more prominent part of you wins out, and you don’t say a thing. Like this, you can imagine it means what you want it to, even if it doesn’t.
You settle back in his arms, burying your face into his neck and closing your eyes, content to let him cradle you in his big arms. His scent wraps around you like a blanket, and your heart settles down as you relax.
He presses a kiss to your hair, and you decide that as long as you get to keep having this with him, whatever it is, you are content.
_ _ _
a/n: what's funny is that Suguru isn't even my main jjk guy, I just had a demon come over me and wrote this out.
edit: after I re-read i think i’m gonna make this a series bc i can see drama going down and i want to write it 😈
please do not repost or copy my work, but feel free to reblog and share. hope you enjoyed!
#geto x reader#suguru x reader#getou x reader#getou suguru#jjk getou#getou smut#suguru#getou suguru x reader#geto x you#geto suguru x you#suguru geto x reader#jjk x reader#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jjk smut#jjk x reader smut#jujutsu kaisen smut#suguru imagine#geto imagines#geto smut#geto suguru smut#geto suguru x reader
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Yandere! Kalim x reader, but yandere but they're bad at their jobs au. Like one minute Kalim act all sadistic and dark then the next thing when reader asked if he wants some pets he went to his usual happy sunshine puppy that demands pets
yes~~ presious baby boi just wants love but he so spoil x3
what i also like to think about with yandere kalim is that he knows right and wrong but its so water down for him that "he just cant help it ^^
For fun, im making this into a modern mafia au ^^
~Just trying to help~
Yan!Boss!Kalim x Worker!mc
Warnings: power dymanmic, mafia mention, violence mention, nsfw hints, death?, manipulation
~~~~~
The Asim, they are known for their wealth and their trades. They're a super big powerful family with a lot of people (both loyal and not loyal) under them. They kind of give "untouchable kings" vibes. Theyre still really nice to their "people", you just don't see them a lot, or at all really. The only way to really "talk to them" is by talking to someone in their circle but there are layers into that circle. some people thinks that their family is shady, like the rich people act is a persona to hide something but no one really has proof.
But you really don't have to worry about that. You have your own stuff to worry about, like living expenses. You were basically living on the streets, barely living. You did side jobs to get by. maybe you'll clean or maybe you'll babysit. when you were a kid, you always wanted to help people. But with your home life, money, you couldn't really get to your dreams even if you tried. you stopped school pretty early and its a little too late for you to get back into it. plus what school will accept you. you lived in a community where rich gets richer and medium class becomes poor... I guess that's where you are, what your luck...
you were heading to your next "job" place. you had to clean for a really sweet old couple, the Wrights. They couldn't afford much either but they try to help you whenever they can. Example, you clean places that they cant reach, in exchange they give you dinner, as much as they can. you always wish them good health. they are too sweet for this unfair world.
you were lost in your head, enjoying the memories and conversation you had with them. But when you to their place, you see 3 grown men towering over Mr. Wright.
"please understand.. we aren't here for trouble but your son does owe us some money. were just here to collect."
"please.. we havent seen our son in months. hes not here."
"come on, blue carb! i wanna go home! if you dont tell us-"
"Floyd, we aren't here for threats."
"hmm..? oh my... what do we have here?"
the light hair man turn to you with a very scary smile. You didnt have time to take even a step when one of the men grabs you by the arm. he had teal hair with a black stirp. he had awful smile that showed off his sharp teeth.. the smile looked every threatening..
"were just here to talk about business, why dont you scram shrimpy."
you started to tremble and turned to Mr. Wright. he gave you a weak smile and moved his hand like to shoo you away.
"go on dear. it'll be okay."
you gulped in terror but you dug your heels into the ground. if you didn't, who knew what these shady guys would do to this kind old couple.
"h-he.. said he hasn't seen his son! n-ow get out of here before i call the police!!"
"..."
".."
"..."
everyone got quiet.. no one moved.. the men seem stun by your outburst. the man, that was holding you, didn't seem to like your outburst and gripped your arm, harder. it hurts..!
"tck.. im getting really annoyed, shrimpy... Should break your arm to show you-"
"actually Floyd, i have a better idea."
the light hair man walks up to you and hands you a card.
"i am Azul Ashengrotto. i run a cafe called the Mostro Lounge and Mr. Wright's son has owe us a pretty penny~"
The way he spoke gave you chills. You hated it. it was too sweet when you knew that the words he spoke are laced with poison.
"What if-..."
You had to take a long deep breath, you're risking a lot for even thinking this... but you had to. you were the only able person to protected these people who gave you more than you've asked.
"what if... i worked for you..? i'll work for you, pay off the owe money and you'll have to leave Mr. and Mrs. Wright alone! Deal..?"
the light hair man pauses.. then smiled. he put his hand out for a handshake.
"Its a Deal."
when you took his hand, that was it. you had to say goodbye to your home away from home. you gave mr.wright a smile and left with the strange men...
~~~
the next few weeks you learned what they did, kind of, and what they needed of you. they didn't tell you 100% of everything but you were supposed to be their servant, or an errand boy, or something like that?
the job wasn't bad at all. you cleaned, get anything they need, run things for them. sometimes they call you for... personal reasons. In exchange you get 3 meals a day and a comfortable room. which honestly, you weren't complaining. before, you would have one meal a day and even sleep on either a hard floor or a gross mattress. At this rate, after you finish paying off the Wright's debt, you might just stay here.
sometimes the job brings pretty scary people that show up out of nowhere. they often had big weapons to their side, some would have the weapons ready and loaded. Jade, Floyd, or Azul often gets you out of the way and most times tell you to cover your ears and close your eyes. sometimes they have you clean up their messes after these scary men... "leave." you knew better but you cant really say or do anything about it so.. you just don't question it.
after a month, you thought you get used to your new home life now but- you accidentally ran into someone or someone ran into you.
"oh my-! are you okay? im so sorry!! i-"
"no no! its okay. i should have been more careful."
the mysterious man helped you up. he had bright red eyes and white white that complement his dark skin every nicely. he had a black dress shirt and a red suit with gold accents, red dress pants to match. when he helped you up, you notice he's hands are really soft. big contrast to your hands.
"I'm sorry again."
he was about to run away but stopped and sheepishly turn and smile at you. it kind of reminded you of a happy teenage.
"actually... do you know where the Mostro lounge is? i... i think im lost. hehe." he scratched the back of his head. the embrassement on his face was slowly growing on you because he kept smiling.
it was kinda weird to see someone around here with such a bright smile..? like an genuine smile or maybe hes just a good actor or something..? you cant say.
"oh.. its a left then a right." you poked.
"kk! thank you~"
he turned and ran away again. you were about to leave but he stopped you again.
"can you actually walk with me there..? i asked directions before and got lost.. hehe~ pretty please?"
with his charming smile, you couldnt help but smile back.
"okay, follow me."
during your walk there, he asked a few question. they were harmless questions, enough. favorite colors? favorite food? favorite animals? where have you been? favorite places to go? etc.
when you got there a tall man with dark skin and long beautiful black hair rushed to your side, well more like to the other man.
He had the same outfit as the white hair man but they both wore it differently. which wasnt a bad thing. it compliment their personalities. Like jade, floyd, and azul do with their suits too.
"Kalim! where have you been?! we just left the elavoter and you were gone from my sights?! why did you-?"
"oh ya! i saw this pretty ocean theme pillows and i wanted to get some but you had my wallet hehe~ so... can i get them? they be perfect for-!"
"no. ugh..."
you felt really uncomfortable... it was like a mother scolding her kid... the black hair man looked at you. you shifted your feet uncomfortably.
"who are you? i dont remember you from our last visit?"
you raise your hands up and backed up slightly. people here are either very suspicious, they often come to see azul for his deals, or naive soul, that came for the ocean-like atmosphere.
"im just a-"
two arms snaked around you. you started to freak out. this is how you die--!!!
"shrimpy!! where's my drink~~? ive asked it for about... like 10 minutes ago~~~"
Oh! its just Floyd. he practicely moaned in your ear. it was a lot to get used to Floyd's mood swings. but you learn to avoid him when hes upset or just do want he says and not say too much. if he tries to tease you, he often gets bored and wonders to do who knows what.
"oh! hi sea snake! hi sea otter!"
"Floyd.. for the last time, stop calling us-
"hi Floyd!! haha!"
the white hair man jumped up and join the hug! you were getting crushed between these two... you were patting their backs in a way to say "okay thank you but-- that enough..!!! im dying! let me go!"
"jamil! Kalim! its great that you made it! a bit late but- i cant say im suprised."
"tsk.. hello jade... azul..."
the dark hair man, pulled the white hair man off you. it helped but Floyd is still squeezing you like he was trying to kill you, not literally... hopefully.
"ah.. its seems that you met our new hire. Jamil, Kalim, this is (mc)."
you, trying your best with the situation youre in with floyd right now, bowed your head as jade introduced you.
"hehe. we found shrimpy when we were at the Wright's place."
"did you get the money..?"
"no~ they were being stubborn but (mc) offer to pay off the money that was owed so i cant complain too much."
azul spoke and rubbed your head like a kid. you didnt like how they were talking about you like you werent there. or rather, talking about the Wrights like they were bad.. but you held your tongue. you didnt want to get them mad... especially when floyd is still holding you.
"ohh.. poor (mc). dont worry, well protect you from those mean people. im kalim, Kalim al-asim!"
"Kalim!"
"and thats jamil, Jamil Viper."
"Kalim! dont give our names to strangers! you dont even know them-"
"Well then~ we'll just have to just spend time with them!"
Kalim.. Kalim al-asim.... an Al-Asim.. Al-Asim! This smiling ray of sunlight is an Asim??
apparently your face paled because Kalim reached for your face and held your face into his hands. he gave you a giggle and smiled as he massage your cheeks in his hands.
"hehe youre so cute. after our meeting with Azul, i want to hangout with you on your break. when is it? hmm?"
you turned to Azul, he nodded his head in approval.
"i-its.. its in 2 hours from now.. sir.."
"hehe.. no need to talk so formal. just call me Kalim. And okay, on your break, meet me by the front door of the Mostro lounge, kk?
"y-yes.. kalim.."
he gave you a smile and all the 5 men started to head to Azul VIP room..
what did you get yourself into....
~~~
You've been spending a lot of your time with kalim as of late. To the point where you felt guilty for leaving work.. but you'd feel more guilty for saying no to kalim. You tried once. It was one too many.
You initially wanted to keep some distance. But with kalim's smile and charisma, you couldn't say no. Kalim always found a way to have lots of fun and he will always include you too.
Every time you came back to the Mostro lounge, floyd gives you a stink eye and a "why wasn't i invited~?" whine. Jade gives you his creepy smile and does a weird thing by leaning in and asking "did anything exciting happened~?", whatever that means. Azul doesn't seem upset at all. It made you anxious. Is he marking down your pay when you're out with kalim..? You checked your accounts and you were still getting payed for your work but.. you didn't do any work..?
You decide to talk to azul about it. You didn't want something like this be in the air, with someone as slimy as azul.. and with money no least!!
You knocked.
"Um.. azul..? Are you busy?"
You peeked through the door of Azul's office, and they vip room.
"... no. What do you need..?
he was working on some papers and he looked.. unpleased.
"I.. ill ask later."
You tried to take your leave befor-
"You wanted to ask about your pay..?"
You slowly turn to him. His face hasn't changed from that unpleased expression.
"Y-yes sir.."
Azul sighed, lend back into his chair, took off his glasses and rubbed his face as he let's out another sigh.
"Kalim is... renting you."
What..?
"And he also requested for you to still get payed because, his words.. 'they're still working.'"
He started to stare at you. You didn't think he meant it to look intimidating, because he can't see you, he doesnt have his glasses on. But it still was very unpleasant.
You were at lost of words. Kalim al-asim... is renting you..? You weren't mad but you weren't happy too. Spending time with kalim is really fun and his personality is really refreshing. But being told you were 'rented out' feels.. dehumanizing. But with your life, you can really feel anything else..
"Is that all..?"
"Yes sir.."
"Good, you may leave."
You bowed your head and left, making sure to close the door softly behind you.
What do you do now..?
~~~
Now after every visit from kalim, the moment becomes a little sour. He's paying azul to spent time with you, but why? He's an al-asim. He could get anything he wants right? Why would he spend time with a common rat like you..?
What are you to him?
"(Mc)? You okay?"
You looked up and kalim was really close to you! You jolted and lean back
"I-im okay! Its just.. work. Heh.. work just be exhausting and im just.. I'm okay!"
You smiles, you didn't notice that kalim stopped smiling.. he was still looking at you but just not smiles. it would have scared you to your core if it wasnt for you trying to change the topic by looking at the scenery. A minute past and his smile came back, brighter.
"Why don't you come with me then?"
"huh..?"
"You could live in the al-asim estate and you don't have to lift the finger! Serverts will come to your every beckon call and you get to live.. like an Asim."
As you were staring at him, lost of words, he gently took your hand. You didnt even noticed it until he pulled your hands to his lips and kissed it.
"K-kalim! I-"
Before you could finish your sentence, he stood in front of you and got on one knee.
You felt sick
"(Mc)... "
You felt dizzy
"Will you-"
This has to be a dream!!!
"Be mine?"
He sweet innocent smile made you feel sick. How can can someone so dangerous be so naive?!? You bearly knew him! He bears knew you!!
"I.. i-i have to go!!"
You ran off, back to Mostro Lounge, back to your room, leaving a sad otter left on one knee..
~~~
You were in your room for 3 days..
You weren't payed for those days but you didnt care..
You felt sick and a little guilty. Kalim looked so sad when you left him. Maybe when you see him again... you could apologize and explain yourself..? By the seven! Would he still be mad at you? Will he order for you to be erased??
You felt nausea.
You needed to get some water.
Luckily it was night time, you wouldn't likely run into floyd, jade, or azul.. maybe?
You walked through the dark halls, only using your memories and the walls to guide you.
You were lost in thought and didn't realize a figure coming up behind you. By the time you did noticed, the figure quickly over powered you and you were imbraced into darkness.
~~~~
[Before the proposal]
"Azul!!? how much does the Wrights owe!?"
Kalim bursted into Azul's office, with a tired Jamil following behind.
"ah! K-Kalim! you know you have to make an ap-"
"i know i know! this is important though!!"
Kalim rushes up to Azul's desk, slamming his hands down on to the desk and leaned over to Azul. he was like a jumping dog..
"i want to ask (mc) to marry me!!"
everyone froze and even jade and Floyd, they were walking by, looked at Kalim like he was crazy.
"Kalim! I know your father has told you about being an Al-Asim and your responsibility to your family and making an hair but not like this!!"
"come on, Jamil~ they're perfect~ they're sweet and kind. they're responsible and hard working, like father wanted. they're just... perfect!"
Kalim goes through his phone and looks at pictures of you he took when you hanging out with him and even ones he requested from Jade and Floyd, secret cameras. They vary between you working and you when you think youre alone...
Azul rubs his face and gives a long sigh.
"look kalim. Even if your display of affection is definitely... something... (mc) is still working the Wrights' debt off. if they're not here then-"
"oh! that's another amazing thing about them! they were willing to help the Wrights without even knowing what they were getting themselves into. with the amount of debt the Wrights have, (mc) would be working until they're in their 70s. Thats why i need to protect them, do they even know about the Wrights 'situation'?"
Floyd lays on the couch in the VIP room, with candy in his mouth.
"nope! Jade thought it would help (mc) stay motivated to work. you saw how upset they got whenever we talk about the Wrights. they're so cute but so obedient that they don't even asked what they did to get in their situation, HAHA! silly shrimpy~!"
Floyd laughs and Jade chimes in.
"To be fair, we did get them out of a 'dangerous situation'. what the Wrights were doing to them was shameful.. Saying their debt was all because of their son, who has been dead for 10 years, and saying they dont have money but is found actively going to clubs spending more. the fact that they're living in the poorest town, and looking like weak old people. they're fooling everyone with the act. Everyone, including (mc)~"
Jamil turned and glared at Azul.
"wait-.. you didn't even tell them..? and you kept them working here?"
"think whatever Jamil, someone has to pay the debt off."
"i can pay it!"
Kalim looks at Azul, he was giving a determined look. Azul sighs again, why is everyone in his office. He has too much work to do.
"i know you can but you know-"
"in exchange, give me (mc)."
Jamil was about to stop Kalim but-
"(mc), yes, they work here under false pretenses but they have became a big asset to us. if you were to take them, it will take a long time to replace them."
Kalim walks closer to azul. with his serious expression, to say left everyone on edge was an understatement.
"i will pay 3x the Wrights' debt... as long as i get (mc)."
Azul looks at Kalim and a sick smile appears. He held out his hand.
"Its a Deal."
~~~~
This took so long! but i did it! i hope you guys enjoy it. if you guys like me to draw something for this, just ask, until then, back into my wips qwq
#twst fanart#twst#twst headcanons#twst wonderland#disney twst#yandere twst#disney twisted wonderland#art#digital art#twst x reader#twst kalim x reader#twst kalim al asim x reader#kalim al asim#twst kalim#kalim x reader#twisted wonderland kalim#kalim twisted wonderland#kalim twst#twst mafia au#twisted wonderland mafia#twst yandere kalim#twst kalim al asim#twst yandere
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creature of the night
Summary: You're just a toy in Tom's world, yet love has found its way into your heart
Warnings: Explicit content (18+), manipulative Tom
Word Count: 2,500
Author's Note: The irony is, I detest guys like this in the real world, but there's a strange satisfaction in writing stories about Tom’s character. There’s a hate-love relationship between us, well… enjoy the ride
also! you can read this on ao3 if you prefer it that way ♡
(gif originally posted by voldemrt)
meet me tonight
The note said, with its neatly arranged letters. It held a promise that made your heart feel heavy and light at the same time as you were both excited and scared of what was to come. With Tom you could never be certain. Sometimes he made you feel like you belong, he made you feel seen. Other times he made you feel lonely, despite holding you in his arms.
As if he wasn't there, not truly present, and it hurt, but you didn’t tell a word.
You stared at the note blankly for a moment, finding it delicately placed on top of your pillow. The ritual was familiar – Tom's passion for leaving these little messages. They surfaced under the weight of your books, nestled in the pocket of your mantle, or discreetly positioned on your favourite desk in the library. His proficiency in crafting subtle messages left you perpetually anticipating the next one, creating a secret language between you two. Each note, a whispered promise, held significance beyond its written words.You carefully stored each note in a small wooden box, coming back to them when you feel particularly romantic or in the quiet moments, after yet another day where Tom treated you as if you didn't exist. The paradox of his presence and absence, the silent yearning and the allure of his elusive messages painted a complex portrait of your twisted relationship.
The daylight stretches endlessly, but the promise of our night brings a spark to the hours
In the quiet secrecy of the night, you found solace in the secret meetings with Tom. His warm embrace, soft smiles, and gentle touches became familiar, creating an intimate haven that seemed to belong to just the two of you. In those stolen moments, you felt as if you had unraveled the layers of his complex persona, knowing him in a way that no one else did.
Yet, the illusion shattered in the harsh light of day. As the sun illuminated the hallways of Hogwarts, revealing its secrets and concealing its mysteries, Tom transformed. The tender moments you shared in the hidden corners of the castle were replaced by a cold indifference. It was as if the encounters of the night had never happened, as if he were a stranger passing you by in the endless corridors.
In the common room, amidst the chatter of fellow students, he glanced through you as though you wasn’t there. His eyes, once filled with warmth, now held an unpleasant distance, leaving you to question whether the tender exchanges between you had been nothing more than fragments of a dream.
It was a paradoxical, the dichotomy between the intimacy of the night and the detachment of the day. Tom's dual nature left you grappling with the unsettling reality that the person who whispered sweet promises under the moonlight seemed oblivious to your existence in the harsh light of day. The dissonance between these two versions of him became a puzzle, and you found yourself entangled in the endless shifts of his demeanour.
The secrecy of your relationship took a toll, and the contrast between the Tom who held you in the darkness and the one who ignored you in the light became a source of inner mayhem. The warmth of his touch lingered in your memory, but the chill of his indifference left you yearning for consistency. You couldn't help but wonder which version of Tom was the real one, and whether the night held the truth or the day.
The Hogwarts walls stood as silent sentinels, enveloped in an air of mystery, as if holding the secrets of centuries within their stone embrace. The night, full of shadows and cold whispers. The path, winding and labyrinthine, demanded caution, the necessity to watch your back a constant reminder of the precarious nature of your secret escapades.
Yet, every step, every twist and turn, seemed a worthwhile investment, for at the end of this nocturnal journey awaited Tom. He sat there, perched on the couch in the Room of Requirements, immersed in the ethereal glow of dim light. His brows were furrowed as he was bending over the book. It was late, but Tom, a creature of the night, was indifferent to the demands of sleep, his insatiable curiosity fuelling his restless mind.
In the play of shadows, his jawline emerged as if sculpted from marble, each contour a testament to the divine craftsmanship of otherworldly hands. Cheekbones, sharp and pronounced, echoed the elegance of classical statuary. His hair, a cascade of raven black, seemed to absorb the darkness of the night. Divine. Surely, he didn’t belong to this world.
As you approached, the air crackled with an otherworldly energy. The Room of Requirement seemed to come alive in his presence. In this nocturnal realm, Tom beckoned like a magnetic force, drawing you into a world where magic intertwined with mystery, and the boundaries between reality and enchantment blurred.
When he noticed you, time seemed to pause. His gaze made your insides clenched, a strange monster clawing at your stomach, reaping you apart.
“You came,” he said, the corners of his lips curling into smile.
“Yes, yes… of course I came.”
“Good,” he murmured, standing up and reaching for you. His lips met the soft skin of your wrist, sending shivers down your spine. The warmth of his touch left you breathless. Lifting you effortlessly, he held you close, your legs entwining above his hips. Your heads were now on the same level, and he kissed you passionately, each touch leaving a lingering sensation. His lips trailed along your neck, his hair and tongue teasing your delicate skin. Tom guided you to a secluded corner, settling on the leather couch with you still in his arms. The shadows flickered and danced on the walls, a silent play of darkness and light in the dimly lit room. You nestled your face in the crook of his neck, embracing him tightly. It felt like where you were meant to be. It felt right.
“I thought of you all this time, couldn’t wait for you to come, you know that, darling?” Tom inquired, his voice smooth, yet calculated. His eyes bore into yours once again, attempting to unravel the thoughts hidden behind your gaze. Not much could escape him; he could see right through you. You looked away, a bashful smile playing on your lips.
“I couldn't wait either,” you admitted, your voice carrying a mix of anticipation and excitement. He chuckled softly, the sound sending shivers down your spine.
“You’re too sweet. What am I going to do with you?” he asked, his hands gently resting on your thighs, a subtle pressure against your skin.
“And what do you want to do with me?” Your mind was starting to get hazy. All you could think about was the anticipation building with his eager hands.
“Everything, I want everything,” he whispered in your ear, his voice low and seductive, carrying a hint of desire and... possession. The room seemed to shrink, and your head started to fill with dreams. He wanted you.
The warmth of the fire, the gentle caress of Tom's fingers on your skin, and the intoxicating scent of the room created a heady atmosphere. You were captivated, caught in the web of his allure. As Tom's hands continued their exploration, a tingling warmth spread through your body. The flickering flames cast playful shadows, dancing across the walls. The rhythmic crackling of the fire was the only melody in this secret meetings in the middle of the deepest of night.
His fingers, cool yet masterful, traced patterns on your skin, leaving a trail of anticipation in their wake. The touch, possessive and tender, spoke a language only the two of you understood. Time lost its meaning. You closed your eyes, losing yourself in the symphony of sensations.
Tom's lips brushed against your ear, sending shivers down your spine. "You're mine," he whispered, his voice like a seductive melody, weaving a spell around you. The possessiveness in his tone ignited a flame within, a dangerous thrill that both scared and excited you. As he held you close, you felt a magnetic pull, binding you to him in a dance of forbidden longing. As stolen moments unfolded, a haunting question lingered: Why couldn't he be wholly yours? The wish to unravel his secrets, to see him in the unfiltered light swept through your every emotion.
As his lips fervently sought yours, a surge of unrestrained need flowed between you, each kiss a profound declaration of a passion that defied reason. Tom, with an intensity that bordered on desperation, cradled your face in his hands. The kiss that ensued was all-consuming. His eyes were hungry, a desire for more.
In that suspended moment, the world outside ceased to exist. You found yourself entangled in the harmony of interwoven tongues and intertwined breaths, a magnetic force pulling you deeper into the forbidden. The air around you crackled with the electricity of shared longing, and every kiss became a vow, a binding promise of the undiscovered intensity yet to unfold.
As the urgency of the moment heightened, so did your willingness to surrender to him.
Tom’s hands traveled to your shirt. His movements were deliberate as he was yielding each button to his touch as if surrendering to his command. You felt the fabric parts, revealing the vulnerability beneath. Tom’s expression remaining composed. As the last button succumbed to his fingers, a rush of cold air met your exposed skin. His hands traced a path along the newly revealed expanse, leaving a trail of heat in their wake. The room seemed to pulse with a quiet intensity.
“You’re exquisite,” he whispered, his voice low and laden. Time seemed to stretch, and you found yourself suspended in a space where only two of you existed.
When Tom started sucking on your nipple, a soft whimper came out of your lips. He smiled softly at your response and showed no intention of stopping. His actions continued with
unyielding determination, his tongue hot and wet on your willing breasts. His hands all over your exposed body, tracing patterns on your soft skin, making you lose your mind, making you forget yourself and forget all these bright days spent without him. With skilled fingers Tom unbuttoned your skirt, taking it off in one swift movement, leaving you almost naked, while he remained fully clothed, a stoic figure in his unchanging black attire, a stark contrast to the vulnerability he teased from you with every touch. You wanted to touch him too, make him feel as good as you felt yet your yearning to caress Tom was met with a playful denial, as he savoured the moments of teasing, drawing out the anticipation.
His fingers exploring the thin material of your underwear, the gentle touches felt as light as a feather, igniting a trail of sensations. Relentlessly, he continued as his hands grew bolder and bolder. Silver rings on his fingers warm on your skin. Oh, how you wanted him inside you already. To feel him in the most intimate way possible. “Please, Tom,” you moaned, and started to grind on the bulge in his pants, desperate for more, fire running through your veins. At this point it was a pure torture, not to have Tom inside you.
With surprising ease, Tom flipped you onto your back, unbuttoned his unpleasantly tight pants and guided the head of his penis into your hot entrance. As you merged into one, a profound sense of belonging washed over you, a feeling you had yearned for so long. A solitary tear trailed down your cheek, carrying the weight of unspoken emotions. He penetrated you with raw force, driving you to the edge of ecstasy with every continuous stroke. It was raw, characterised by the relentless pursuit of desire, teeth digging into tender flesh, and unyielding grips that promised bruises by dawn. Despite the roughness, every moment was a symphony of pleasure you couldn't get enough of. When you both came, your back arched, the sound of a soft moan escaped your lips, but it dissolved into the heated intensity as Tom claimed your mouth once more
The room was saturated with the lingering echoes of passion as you lay on his chest, feeling the rise and fall of his laboured breaths. His skin glistened with a sheen of sweat, an aftermath of the intense encounter. Tom's hand traced soothing patterns on your back with rhythmic strokes, creating a sense of comfort.
"I love you," you whispered, the words escaping your lips like a confession, an unfiltered truth that hung in the air. The vulnerability of the moment lay bare in the quiet aftermath.
A beat passed before Tom’s lips curved into a mocking smile as he listened to your heartfelt declaration. With a calculated nonchalance, he leaned down and pressed a cold, indifferent kiss to your lips. It was a kiss that tasted of detachment, a bitter irony wrapped in the guise of a tender moment. Breaking away, he looked into your eyes, the amusement evident in his gaze. "Silly little girl," he said with a dismissive chuckle. Tom's words, delivered with a cold detachment, lingered in the air, settling like a heavy curtain that draped the room in a somber reality. The silence that followed carried the weight of your shattered expectations, and in that moment, the intimacy you had shared seemed like a fleeting illusion. You felt stupid. The vulnerability you had exposed, the love you had confessed—all reduced to insignificance by the stark revelation of his indifference.
In the aftermath of Tom's callous dismissal, a bitter truth settled upon you like an indelible stain. The daylight hours were not meant for you. The warmth shared in the night, the whispered confessions, and stolen kisses were facets of a reality carefully curated by him—a reality where you were permitted only under the cloak of darkness.
In the wake of this revelation, the weight of your unrequited emotions became palpable, each heartbeat a reminder of the divide between the two worlds you inhabited with Tom. The nights were yours, a realm where he seemed to embrace you, but the days belonged to a version of him that eluded your understanding. Regrettably, you accepted the truth that, in Tom's realm, you were fated to be merely a passing shadow; you were his, but he wasn't yours, and he never would be. He belonged to no one else but himself.
In the symphony of darkness, your presence is my favourite note. Until the night claims us again, know that you exist, a cherished memory in the sanctuary of my thoughts. Yours in the shadows,
T.M.R.
︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵
you can find more of my works about tom ♡here♡
#lord voldemort#tom marvolo riddle#tom riddle#tom riddle smut#tom riddle scenario#tom riddle x reader#tom riddle romance#tom riddle imagine#tom riddle x y/n#tom riddle x you#tom riddle headcanon#tom riddle story#toxic tom riddle#hp imagine
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hello, how are you? first of all i have to say god how i love every single one of your stories, i literally gasp every time i see the notification of you uploading something new. i read all your fics and everyone is original and very well-written.
i was just wondering, have you thought of writing something about “needy toto” since he’s done surgery? i mean either soft toto who needs attention or not that soft toto who needs some other kind of attention 👀 if not never mind, it was just a doubt i had🫶🏻
hey, im good! and im super glad you enjoy my stories!
about your request, i guess i can do something for you, just check under the cut
feverdream
You breathed a heavy sigh when you pressed the button for the top floor.
That was a difficult day, to say the least.
Being a fashion designer and entrepreneur had good and bad times. Some days were really good, and other days you didn't want to go back to your studio near the Prince of Monaco's palace. But you believed that, one day, it would all be worth it. One day, you would be invited to show your collections in the fashion capitals of the world.
It was just a matter of time.
When the elevator door opened, you headed down the hallway towards the door of the penthouse where you lived with your husband, who was finally home after two weeks in Asia for work. And you couldn't wait to give him all the kisses you couldn't give during those long 15 days.
When you unlocked the door and opened it, you definitely expected him to be in the kitchen, preparing something or even in the living room, watching something on television while he waited for you to arrive. However, the house was silent, the lights were on, but there was no sign of him.
— Darling? — you called, while leaving your bag and keys on the sideboard at the entrance. On top of it was your husband's wallet and keys, which indicated that he was also at home.
But where?
After finding out that he wasn't in the kitchen or in his office, all that was left was your suite to investigate. And when you entered the room, you found him lying on the bed, curled up under a double layer of blankets.
— Toto? — you said softly, unsure if he was awake or not. A positive grunt coming from somewhere in the middle of the pile of fabric made you come closer, sitting on the edge of the bed — What happened?
— Y/N — he stammered in a hoarse voice. Pulling the blanket down, you found his messy hair and pale, dry lips. The dark circles under his eyes and the way he was shaking even though he was covered made you press your lips into a thin line. He was definitely not well.
— Yes, darling, it's me. What are you feeling?
Toto didn't seem to be processing your words at typical speed. In fact, he spent long seconds with his eyes lost on your face, seeming to realize you were there. Until he finally answered you.
— Cold.
Placing a hand on your husband's forehead, you saw the reason for all those blankets.
— You're burning with fever — you said, while pressing your fingers against other points on his face and neck — Why didn't you told me before, my love? I could have left the studio earlier to take care of you.
— Cold, very cold — Toto limited himself to saying with a trembling voice.
Getting up from bed, you started thinking about what your mother did when you had a fever to bring your temperature down. The first thing you remembered was the medication, which was stored in a small box along with the other first aid materials in the bathroom. Checking if it was the right medicine, you got a glass of water in the kitchen and went back to your room.
— Sit down, darling — you said softly — I brought you some medicine.
With difficulty, Toto managed to lift his head, swallowing the pill with a grimace before letting himself fall onto the pillow. Leaving the glass on the bedside table, you went to the most complicated part. Pulling the mountain of blankets he had placed over his own body to reduce the cold he was feeling, even though they only made the situation worse, was a big challenge, especially with your husband's protests.
— No, Y/N — he groaned — It's cold...
— I know, Toto, but your cold will only go away if your fever breaks. And for that I need to take off these blankets.
He whimpered, trying to hold on to the duvet without success. After discovering him, you tried to take off the clothes he was still wearing, completely sweaty due to the fever and the layers of blankets he had placed over himself.
— No — Toto grumbled, trying to free himself from the gray t-shirt — Stop...
— My dear, I need to…
— No, I'm married — he said, trying to keep your hands away from his jeans, without success. The statement made you laugh, as you pulled the fabric down his legs.
— I know you're married, my love — you said, throwing your pants in the corner, while he curled up in the middle of the bed, in just his underwear — I was at your wedding.
— It was so beautiful — Toto said softly — Y/N was so beautiful... I love her so much…
— And she loves you too, I'm sure — you replied, holding back a giggle as you went to the closet in search of a washcloth that you could use as a cold compress.
With the fabric already wet, you approached the bed again, asking him to lie down on his back. As she placed the towel on his forehead, Toto hissed in protest.
— It's cold — he murmured, trying to remove the compress from his forehead. However, you gently pushed his hand away.
— I know, my love, but I need to do this for you to get better.
Toto fidgeted some more, while you stroked his face to calm him down. He was a terrible patient, and that was a fact. But at the same time, there was a certain sweetness in being able to care for him at that moment, when he needed you most.
— I hate being sick — he mumbled, eyes closed.
— I know that — you replied, taking the compress to his forehead again, his hair already damp at that point. After a few more seconds, Toto opened his eyes slightly.
— Sorry about that.
— It's not your fault.
— I should have been more careful.
You slid your fingers to his lips, asking him to be silent.
— In sickness and in health, remember? I will always be with you, Toto. Always — you replied, leaning in to press a kiss to his warm forehead before continuing to press the compress against his skin.
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I’ve been thinking a lot of what’s said about Terzo in The Devil’s Hands documentary… a different Terzo from what we think to know. The tale of an impenetrable man.
Terzo,
five letters which makes you question everything you have always hated.
His overflowing brazenness, the first time you talked to him.
His discouraging bitterness, so hard for you to bear, having always loved to laugh.
His face, scowled as if it has never softened through the joy of a smile.
Once a concept, a fantasy in your mind, now a man who retreats into the shadows, seeking solace in seclusion, finding a quiet refuge in his self-imposed exile.
Maybe I’m not what you expected, I’m sorry for that, he told you once, and you couldn’t find any other way to reply than meeting his lips.
Sometimes you see him sitting still at his desk, enveloped in his own cloak like a bat protecting from the sun, appearing like someone who in life simply awaits. It’s always a risk you are willing to take, to try to part those rigid arms, penetrate that wall and crawl your way through his soul, buried under layer after layer that he fears one day will imprison you too.
You see a man whose days are filled with too much work, for someone who claims to never deny himself the joy of transgression, and his nights are too silent, for someone who claims to thrive in the chaos of a crowded celebration.
You know it is the papal dress code, yet seeing how his face gets buried by brushstrokes of black and white tugs at your heartstrings, as you watch how his pale skin disappears behind the dark fabric he stubbornly covers himself with, on or off the stage, down to the last button of his shirt, down to the tips of his fingers.
“How are people supposed to love you if they don’t even know you?”
“They don’t have to.”
“Well, I do-“
“You don’t have to.”
You are so used to the feel of leather that when he touches you with bare hands it feels unnatural.
When you’re lucky, he lets you spy through the cracks of that impassable wall only in the half-light of a closed room, when one after another you see his weary features re-emerge from the darkness. The shape of his eyes, his nose that never lets you touch, his lips… the center of your thoughts when he is not with you.
Just as a mirror, you reflect back the beauty and worth that the Papa himself so often fails to see, embracing the light that beckons him forward through you; his skin the same color as yours, he’s nothing more than a man in your arms. In exchange his hands, unnaturally bare, glide softly on your skin, always gentle, never forceful, unless you ask for it, until, with a last breath left in your lungs, you can feel it under your palm, or pressed against your chest, that his heart is unburdened now, his spirit alleviated, finally safe.
And so, as he takes his place once more in the spotlight with newfound courage, he does so not as a recluse, but as a man reborn, his chest full of the force of the Morning Star, ready to share his light with the world.
#papa emeritus iii#ghost band#the band ghost fanfiction#OsirisBC-Ramblings#terzo x reader#terzo emeritus
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hiii!! I was wondering if I could request a Fyodor x male reader who has heterochromia eyes?
𝗪𝗮𝗹𝗸𝘀 - Fyodor Dostoevsky
Oneshot: Just the two of you spending time
Genre: fluff, open
A/N: Such a cute idea ngl ty for the request! Don't be afraid to ask for more req!
→Masterlist
Fyodor Dostoevsky sat alone at his desk, surrounded by the dim glow of candlelight in his sparsely furnished room. His mind was consumed by the weight of his thoughts, the darkness that often clouded his soul. As an important figure within the decay of angels, he seldom allowed himself moments of vulnerability. However, there was one person who had managed to pierce through the layers of his icy exterior, the person who now stood before him.
You, entered the room with a soft knock on the door. Your presence alone had a calming effect on Fyodor, a phenomenon he couldn't quite explain but had grown accustomed to. With heterochromia eyes, one blue and the other a shade of (H/C), you were a rare sight, much like him.
"May I come in?" you asked, your voice a soothing melody in the otherwise silent room.
Fyodor's gaze shifted from staring at his own hands to you, and a faint, almost imperceptible smile played on his lips. "Of course," he replied, his voice carrying a warmth that he reserved solely for you.
You entered, closing the door behind you, and crossed the room to stand beside Fyodor's desk. Your mismatched eyes met his, and a gentle sense of understanding passed between you, transcending words. It was a connection that defied logic and reason, a connection that Fyodor couldn't deny even if he tried.
Without a word, you reached out and placed a hand on his, your touch gentle and reassuring. Fyodor's fingers trembled ever so slightly under your touch, and he couldn't help but lean into it, seeking comfort in your presence.
"You work too hard, Fyodor," you murmured, your voice filled with genuine concern. "You need to take a break every now and then."
He studied you for a moment, "And what would you suggest I do for a break?" he asked, his tone softening. At the moment he could only think about your hands were on his, 'His hands on his'.
You smiled, and it was a sight that never failed to make his heart flutter. "How about a walk?" you suggested. "The night air is crisp, and the stars are beautiful. It might help clear your mind."
Fyodor considered your proposal for a moment before nodding. With you by his side, he felt a sense of calm and tranquillity that he couldn't find anywhere else. As you walked together through the darkened streets, you found yourself in the dimly lit streets of Yokohama, a city teeming with supernatural abilities and mysterious organizations. It was a place where chaos and intrigue coexisted, something you loved, something you rather eradicate.
"Your eyes are quite unique," Fyodor remarked, his voice as smooth as velvet.
You chuckled softly, your heart pounding in your chest. "So are yours."
your heterochromia eyes reflected the city's lights, and Fyodor couldn't help but marvel at the beauty that surrounded him, as he could only think about, 'His eyes are beautiful'
In that moment, he realized that how much you meant to him. Perhaps there was something worth cherishing in the simple act of walking with someone who understood him, someone who saw beyond the darkness that shrouded his soul. He would do anything to give you happiness you deserve.
"The world looks beautiful doesn't it?" You said, humming the tune of your favourite song in between as you hook your arms, swing your arms along with his, walking together.
"Yeah, it does"
"Wouldn't it be utterly delightful to watch it all burn tomorrow?" you whispered, your words dripping with a hint of evilness, as a wicked gleam danced in your eyes.
Fyodor couldn't say anything but hum as a response, a sadistic smile on his face.
As you continued your walk, Fyodor's hand found its way into yours, and your fingers intertwined. In that simple gesture, the two of you found silence and a sense of belonging that neither of you had ever known before.
★Taglist★
#bsd x male reader#bsd x reader#bsd#bsd fluff#bungou stray dogs#bsd headcanons#bungou stray dogs x reader#bungo stray dogs#bungou sd#bsd drabbles#drabbles#bsd manga#fyodor dostoevsky#fyodor x reader#fyodor dostoevsky x reader#bungo stray dogs x reader#fyodor dostoyevsky x reader#fyodor x y/n#fyodor x you#fyodor fluff#fyodor imagines#bsd fyodor#requests to sbd#sbd fyodor asks
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shout! | daniel ricciardo
-> summary: daniel goes to his first bills game with the reader
-> pairings: daniel ricciardo x bills fan (fem)!reader
-> request: Can I request that the reader and Danny are dating and she's a bills fan and takes him to a bills game bc he's also a fan??
-> a/n: as a bills fan, I literally love this idea and most definitely will do it! Also this is a shorter one but it's really cute or at least I think so. The second half is rushed and really bad because I did more detail into the first part 😭
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"Does this look good?" Y/n said, pulling the jersey over her head and her hoodie. Daniel looked at her and laughed at her struggle.
It's "off" season for Daniel, even though there's always off-track training to do. His last race was a few weeks ago and he was now enjoying his time with his girlfriend at a football game.
"It looks fine, honey."
He helped her pull the jersey over her head as she was struggling. It was a bit big on her but it kept her warm. Daniel had a wide smile on his face.
"You enjoy your surprise?"
"Is that even a question?"
She let out a laugh as she looked at him smiling. There was no doubt that he wasn't enjoying his time. Y/n and Daniel were at their first Buffalo Bills game together. Daniel was so excited when she surprised him with tickets. Now here they were, in a very crowded parking lot with thousands of strangers and people who call themselves the 'Bills Mafia'. Most of them were drinking alcohol, playing games, or simply just having fun.
It's very cold in the small town of New York. Both of them were bundled up with layers of clothing. Under both of their jerseys was a sweatshirt and additional shirts underneath. She adjusted the hat on his head and kissed him on the cheek. He softly smiled at her.
"You know, this was a great idea, I love you so much," Daniel smiled widely.
"And I love you so much," she replied. Seeing his smile she couldn't help but smile too.
After getting to experience pre-game tailgating with locals, they both decided to head into the stadium. It was beautiful weather, the sun was about to set and it was cold. Exactly how it should be in New York in November.
They navigated their way through the crowd swerving and dodging bumping into people trying to get to their seats.
"Wow..." they both said as they looked around the stadium and up into the sky. Y/n and Daniel were shocked at the moment.
Both of them pulled out their phones and took pictures of their surroundings and of each other too. Y/n recorded a video and panned the camera to Daniel, "You enjoying the surprise, Danny?"
She knew it was a dumb question but it was quite funny to see his wide smile looking at her camera. "Very much!" He exclaimed as he laughed himself.
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The game was 23-15 in the fourth quarter with five minutes remaining, the Bills were winning and the stadium was full of cheers and clapping. Daniel and Y/n were both screaming and laughing along with all of the thousands of people that were surrounding them. This whole experience felt like a fever dream to them.
It was visibly dark now and the only lighting was the bright lights above their heads. With the end nearing, it only started to get louder and louder.
Daniel and Y/n were next to each other yelling, clapping, screaming, and shouting for their team.
"Touchdown!!!!"
Those words were being projected onto the jumbo tron as the famous 'shout' song. The crowd filled with ayy ayy ayy. It was such a fun experience to be in right now. Neither of them would trade it for the world.
With 1 minute remaining, everyone started celebrating and cheering. Daniel turned towards y/n and gently grabbed her face, turning it towards him. He crashed his lips against hers and they kissed. A celebratory kiss.
"I love you so much for this, thank you," he said as he smiled at her.
"I love you too," she replied to him as she smiled.
The Bills won the game and everyone was happy. Y/n and Daniel were holding hands and cheering with the other thousands of people in the stadium. Neither of them will ever forget this experience.
#ryeriy#ryeriys blog#f1#f1 x reader#f1 fanfic#ryleespage#daniel riccardo x reader#daniel ricciardo#buffalo bills
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