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rainyvandragon · 4 months

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Oh those precious memories~

See I could tell myself that it's okay that I'm writing this because I am a catholic woman but let's be real those things just aren't true any more. So instead I am going to claim this as an emotional craving because of that time of the month. Definitely nothing along the lines of 10 year revival of my fanfiction writing phase. And it's totally, in no way related to any issues I might have. Totally sane, I tell you.

! 18+ Minors do not interact, I am NOT a fckn daycare!

Yandere! Hazbin Hotel x GN! Reader

Content warning: obsessive behaviour, stalking, slight NSFW (more in some parts then others), just a bunch of red flags and things that I do not condone irl

Charlie:

Honestly Charlie might be the most sane of the bunch in this regard

She isn't to interested in stealing anything from you, that is just not something she would be comfortable with – in general but especially with her Darling

However she doesn't mind keeping things that you let her borrow

It doesn't even matter what

You gave her a hair tie because one of hers broke? She'll cherish it forever

It was raining on a day she had to go out and you suggested she could use your umbrella? Pretty much hers now

Of course the greatest thing for her would be you lending her some of your clothes

She would most likely spend the next nights cuddling up to it in bed

Oh the frustration when the fabric no longer smells like you but rather her!

Yeah sure, she can give you your things back. She just forgot them in her room, oops! Don't worry she'll get them later

Unless she forgets again...

Vaggie:

She would never take anything you truly need or value

In all seriousness, Vaggie could never stand the idea of inconveniencing her Darling

However unlike Charlie she is just not close enough with you (yet) to count on you giving things to her

So instead she uses the position she has in the Hotel

There was a movie night with everybody invited?

Well somehow ever since the clean up the blanket you were cuddled up in is gone. Oh well, Vaggie will just get a new one, they weren't that expensive to begin with anyway (and if she is fast enough with it nobody is even going to notice anything)

Sadly those lucky occasions that allow her to grab some reminders of your shared time don't come around to often

And Vaggie respects you and herself to much to steal from you or go through your garbage bin

Thankfully she has the patience to wait for those windows of opportunity

And hey, since everything went relatively smoothly this week why not suggest another movie night to Charlie? Everyone involved seemed to enjoy it anyway – so there really is no harm done, right?

Angel:

Anybody who immediately thought of Angel stealing his Darling's underwear needs to take a cold shower!

Now don't get me wrong – he has thought about it

He does have a relatively high drive and desire for intimacy and sex

So sure the idea of taking something rather personal from you did cross his mind

But deep down Anthony just is a little sweetheart and he just couldn't take something like your underwear or other intimate items from you without any sort of consent

As for other, less private things

It doesn't matter if Angel and you have the same of different sizes – he WILL steal your clothes and wear them

If you wear make-up or nail polish he will definitely “borrow” things – especially lipstick

Now if his Darling is somebody who likes to keep a lot of pillows or plushies in bed he is definitely not shy about taking things from that pile either. Although, depending on how well Darling keeps track of those things, he might only borrow them for a night or two – maybe rotating between some, making sure to leave them under the bed upon returning so it looks like it just fell off the mattress

Alastor:

Now Alastor is already rather torn apart when he first noticed his desire for your belongings

He never once though about stealing from you...until you forgot something in the lobby – a book, notebook, pen, whatever it was – it was just lying there on the table next to the couches

Ever the gentleman he obviously wanted to return it to you but something inside of him fought against the very idea of it. This might be the closet he gets to having you (at least for now), his Darling

As his obsession towards you continues to grow some of his past life's interests stir awake inside of him

One day whilst helping out you cut yourself on some damaged bit of furniture. Alastor is immediately there to offer you a handkerchief to stop the bleeding – a handkerchief that quickly becomes one of his most prised possessions

If his Darling has a period he might steal some...used goods

However in comparison to some of the others, he is a lot less hungry for souvenirs

Although that is really just because, unlike them, he can use his shadows to be around you whenever and as close as he pleases

Husk:

Husk would never just go into his Darling's room to steal things from them – even if the idea sounds lovely

No instead he just checks for things you leave behind

Now his job at the hotel really helps him with that

You almost exclusively talk at the bar (“Redemption Based Group Exercises” being the only real exception)

At this point he has a rather large collection of napkins that you used or doodled on

Sometimes they disgust him but then he looks at them, the little doodles (even just to test a pen) you left on some of them, all those marks of you (bonus points for lipstick stained napkins) and he just can't

The guilty feelings are even worse with a tissue you once cried it. It's just to close of a reminder of you to throw away!

Anything small that you forget at or close to the bar gets saved by him – pens, small pieces of paper, hair ties, buttons from your clothes, whatever really. If it's small and unimportant enough for you to not really miss it he is going to keep it

Nifty:

Nifty is easily the worst of them all

She is small, fast, obsession driven and the hotel's maid on top of that

What matters most to her is how close to your body her little mementos are (it's pretty much the same way in wish the catholic church determines the value of a saint's relic)

Nifty will most definitely collect hair out of your brush

Or rummage through your garbage bins

Now if somebody is going to steal used period products!

She just really doesn't value her Darling's privacy in the slightest so she has no issues going through every little crevice of your room to look for some “hidden treasures”

Although her favourite thing to do is sleep in your used bedsheets

She is going to wash them – don't worry! Simply just not without first sleeping in them herself for a bit

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Welp this is the first time in a long while that I've actually written fanfiction so I got those emotions to sort through I guess.

English is not my first language however given how arrogant I can be regarding my skills this should be well enough written. Prove reading was done by Open Office's spell checking system and my high ass.

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crescentbelle · 1 year

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Liability

Miguel O’Hara x Fem Reader

Angst

Word Count: 1.2K

Summary: After a failed solo mission, Miguel’s punishment makes you feel as if you’ve become a liability.

finished this at 4am with my botchy Spanish skills so please forgive me.

It had been two weeks since your last fight, and equally two weeks since you had stepped foot out the careful watch of your boss, Miguel O’Hara. You weren’t given the luxury to mistake his hovering. His mindset was clear, you weren’t to be trusted.

One slip of a web was all it took, the anomaly you spent the last month tracking down slipped away, snatching your travel watch on the way out. You let the time pass crying out of frustration and being pushed down by a glitch each time you rose from the cracked pavement.

Maybe it was the amount of time it took for you to muster up the courage to tell Miguel you lost him again, or the fact that he then spent the next two days cleaning up the mess the escapee made. Either way, you had committed your biggest mistake since joining the famous group of vigilantes. Not that you could say their band together was infamous to any universe, but that’s what they were to you, and you had utterly failed.

One of Miguel’s star players had let him down, made a mistake so embarrassing to his reputation, that he couldn’t trust you outside his view. Banished to the filing of any and all reports that came through; that was the dignified job you took on. The only thing keeping you sane was to believe it was all just a humiliation tactic from his end, the more you fought against it, the more he succeeded. At this point you didn’t know what to think. The man barely spoke to you, even on his rarely chipper days.

Sat crossed-legged in a chair; you continued the boredom-striking task. Click drag. Click drag. You missed the moments when Hobie came to visit, the small times where you got genuine interaction and not awkward stares.

“you’re free to go now.”

Silence strung together with tension rose thick in the air. Will that ever fade?

He didn’t turn to look at you, his broad frame still turned to his own screen, eyes cold and cruel as ever. God, he really did find you pathetic after this one.

A beat passed. You always wondered if you should thank him, but that just seemed stupid. Thank you so much Mr. Miguel O’Hara for another silent day stuck at your brooding side. You chose the silent approach, slowly uncurling from your awkward position.

Making your way to the door, you heard him call on Lyla, muttering about a mission he needed to put another man on, one that wasn’t you.

“Just take her name off as an option, I don’t want her out right now.”

The words broke you down, weirdly in a way that no other snide comment from the man had before. Since you arrived all you strived for was the acknowledgment of your skills, to show you could become useful. Now, it feels like the rug had been pulled from under you. How long until you get sent back home? How long until Miguel admits you have become a liability?

Please just say anything else, anything so I know you don’t hate-

Miguel calls your name, sharp and devoid of any readable emotion.

“you’ve forgotten your day pass. That’s the second time this week.”

You gritted your teeth, “Thank you.”

“Try not to do that again, you’re glitching has gotten worse.”

That was it, The final stroke. Storming forward, you swipe the scanner off the desk, cheeks burning red with emotion. “You don’t have to scold me like I’m a child, Miguel.”

“Trust me, I know I don't.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I’m not doing this right now, you can leave.”

Beat.

“It was one mistake! How does that constitute shunning me away?” Your body was hot, a magma bubbling into adrenaline. With a racing heart, you refused to back down. Everyday sitting in his office like a lap dog for all your friends and accomplices to watch, you couldn’t take it.

The man’s shoulders stiffen, his body toughening to a cold, ridged stance. Slowly, his gaze fell onto you. There they were, those piercing eyes.

That silent tension melted into something thicker and harder to hide from, fear. Fear that radiated off you in waves he could sense like a strike to the face.

“You don’t get to make those choices,” His voice spoke as a mutter, like he was hiding a seething tone from slipping out. “You don’t get to tell me how I choose to keep you safe.”

“You don’t get to talk about me like I’m not right here! I’ve always been on top of things- ever since I got here. Why do I slip up once and you get to treat me like I’m in idiot? Am I that humiliating for you?”

Beat. This one is too long, his eyes shift for just a moment, caught between thoughts. It’s a second of weakness that makes you apprehensive.

“I’m not letting you on any more missions.”

No-

“You’re sending me back.”

He shakes his head, dejected. “No, I’m not- just shit. Please don't make this harder than it has to be. For your sake.”

“Are you kidding me? You're asking me to never fight again!”

“Please-”

You take another step forward. “You’re asking me to throw away what I was built for! This is my meaning, why are you doing this to me?”

With the confidence he had left to muster up, Miguel stalked over to your frame. This was the closest you had been since he picked you up out of the alleyway you pathetically collapsed in, and the desperate feeling followed. To beg and kick like a child until he let you back in. It felt horrific and you wondered if he felt it too.

“I cant help it. Por favor, no te quiero lastimar. Please don't make me risk you again.” His hand moved up, close enough to your cheek that it makes your senses tingle, before its dropped down to his side again. “Please.”

“You’re hurting me.”

Beat.

With what feels like an instant, you’re being pulled into his chest. his broad arms caught you in his embrace, a hand coming to rest against your temple. Its simple, but it makes your heart ache. Never have either of you come this close. This is that desperate feeling bubbling up again.

You wonder if you should have pushed away; told him he's pathetic and walked away from this cryptic language you now share. But you cant anymore, not with his touch like this.

“I’m sorry.” The mumble of his words reverberated through your body like a purr.

A single drop of a hot liquid hits your forehead and manages to roll down onto his thumb. You scan up to his face. That stoic stare he managed to always hold stood strong, staring off into a void like there's something better to worry about. But his eyes watered and the trail of a tear glimmered on his pronounced cheek.

He guided your head back down to lay against him again and moved his gaze to the side, anywhere to avoid the way you look at him now.

“Don't leave, okay?”

#miguel o'hara #miguel ohara #miguel o'hara x reader #spiderman 2099 #spider-man: across the spider-verse #across the spider-verse spoilers #spiderman #angst #fanfic #fanfiction

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bby-deerling · 7 months

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IM NEW HERE I LOVE YOUR WRITINGS, AND CONGRATULATIONS FOR 250 FOLLOWERS!!!🪅🪅 Can I request "remember the time" with law!!?$3(+$+$! thank yew!!🐑

thank "ewe" for the request (you are now sheep anon to me)!!! i also combined that other request you sent me about a reader who is clingy while drunk, if that's okay!

this is also part of my lil' counting coins verse, but this can be read standalone as well! [1] [2] [3] (2 and 3 are nsfw, so mdni with those ones!)

law + remember the time (sfw, gn!reader)

wc: 1.0k masterlist

On his way to Dressrosa, Law is becoming increasingly irritated, grumpy, and restless. Secretly, he’s relieved that you don’t have to see him like this, on edge and touchy, constantly torn between running through his plans in his head and being caught up in painful memories. He sighs to himself at the thought of you, knowing you would be able to handle his moodiness effortlessly; however, as much as he craved your presence, having you here was too much of a risk to even consider. Though Law had left you behind with the rest of his crew, that didn’t necessarily mean that you had no role to play in his current plans—in truth, it was quite the opposite.

You were there, albeit only in spirit, to ground him. Memories of simpler times are kept constantly swirling on the backburner in his mind, keeping him sane and giving him something to hold onto when the emotional weight begins to grow too heavy.

When he’s awake late at night, despite knowing he needs rest, as guilt and grief eat him alive, he latches onto the pink flush that dusted your cheeks during the first time he meets you, the countless number of nights the two of you ended up falling asleep on his office couch together after a long night of work, or the thrill at the beginning of your relationship as you both tried to keep things under wraps for as long as possible. However, the memory of your seemingly well-hidden relationship coming to light is the one he ends up reaching for as a comfort tonight.

The others were bound to find out at some point—secrets were impossible to keep for too long when trapped between the walls of a submarine, after all—but he was hoping to keep the rest of the crew in the dark for longer than a few short months. You had been on the same page, not wanting to be the target of teasing jokes from Shachi and Penguin until the heat death of the universe, but Ikkaku had gotten you a bit too tipsy one night, clouding your senses and decision-making. Unceremoniously, you ended up plopping down next to him in the booth he was sitting at, draping your legs over his lap and nuzzling your tired face into his side.

“Knock it off. We’re in public.” he scolded quietly, bristling at your touch.

“Law, ‘m so tired… Can you take me to bed?” you slurred, face still buried in his shirt.

“You’re wasted.” he observed, directing his words more so to Shachi and Penguin sitting across from him, trying to salvage the situation in any way possible. This only sends them both into a laughing fit, making Law let out a deep sigh.

“Pay up! I knew they’d crack this week! Bepo owes me too!” Shachi exclaimed with a big grin, holding his hand out to Penguin as he calls the mink over.

“No way!” Penguin protested, “It doesn’t count unless they kiss!” Bepo made his way over to the booth, nearly knocking over Shachi’s drink, leading him to profusely apologize.

“Shachi’s saying we lost the bet, tell him—”

“The bet was when they would slip up in front of us, not when they’d kiss!”

“But we made the bet when Bepo saw them making out in the hallway!”

Law pulled his hat over his eyes and put his head in his hands in embarrassment; you were still clinging to him, and by the familiar, slow patterns of your breathing, you were fast asleep.

“Sorry Captain…” Bepo apologized, tears forming in the corners of his eyes. Law let out another sigh, unable to resist the urge to forgive Bepo when he gives him those adorable pleading eyes.

“It’s alright, Bepo.” he said, absolving his navigator of any guilt; mentally, he was still running through all of your sneaky trysts on the Polar Tang, trying to figure out when you two could have possibly gotten caught.

“Don’t get too bent out of shape. We knew before that, Captain.” Penguin said, as if he was reading his mind. “You started sitting next to them at dinner.”

“And Ikkaku says they haven’t slept in their bed in months.” Shachi added.

“Plus, you’re always hovering over them in the lab.”

“You’re always with them on island trips! And you bought them that little snow leopard plush.”

“Oh—Shachi, don’t forget the coin thing they do!”

“Especially the coin thing!”

Law flicked up the brim of his hat and shot them a glare. “I get it.” he grumbled, wrapping an arm around your sleeping form, seeing no point in keeping up the façade any longer.

“Aww—” they cooed, much to Law’s chagrin; now that the two of you had been found out, he could only hope that the novelty of teasing him would wear off after a while.

“I think you’re a very cute couple, Captain!” Bepo exclaimed with a smile, eyes sparkling. Law rolled his eyes.

“Sorry Captain—”

“Don’t apologize.” he said, shifting his weight to pull you into his arms and pick you up bridal style. “Besides, I’ve got to get them to bed.”

Law didn’t stick around to hear the uproar he caused, swiftly making his way out of the bar and leaving them to argue about who really won the bet they had made at his expense.

“You’re in trouble, I hope you know that.” he said when you stir in his arms on the way back to the Polar Tang and gaze up at him, eyes still glazed over.

“They already knew. Ikkaku told me tonight. I thought we were being discreet.” you mumbled, letting your eyes drift closed again.

He pressed a kiss to your forehead, grateful for the privacy the night sky cast over the two of you. “So did I.” he said, lips curling into a smile.

Staring up at the stars, laying on his back on the deck of the Sunny, he feels the phantom sensation of his lips on your forehead; the touch from years ago feels fresh, as if you were still curled up in his arms. He lets out a long exhale, finally feeling deserving of some sleep—after all, he needed to be on top of things mentally so he could make it back to you and the others as soon as possible.

He pictures your smiling face once more before a cloud of darkness swallows him whole, finally allowing him to rest.

#one piece x reader #x reader #law x reader #trafalgar law x reader #one piece scenario #250 follower event #some fluff as an olive branch for the angst earlier

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flyingdren · 6 months

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Coping with Sebastian Sallow

Summary: In your seventh year at Hogwarts, the only thing keeping you sane is the comfort of your freckled best friend. After a nightmare, he finds another way to comfort you.

Disclaimer: So this is ending B! Or Sebastian's ending. I want to do a poly ending next so stay tuned for that! If anyone has any suggestions or feedback please let me know!

Rating: E

Pairing: Sebastian Sallow x F!Reader

Sebastian would never admit it, but his favourite time of day was definitely first thing in the morning. Everyone assumed he would be grumpy at first light and want to lay abed until late into the afternoon.

And they’d be right. But Sebastian loved mornings because it was when he got to have you all to himself. He loved waking up with you tucked against his chest with his arms wrapped tightly around your midsection and his face buried in your hair. He loved inhaling your sweet scent and listening to your deep breathing.

He also knew in these moments that you weren’t in any pain, and it made his chest swell with pride at the idea that he could keep you safe.

Of course, his hubris immediately came back to bite him as start to you twitch against him, a small, pained whimper leaving your lips as the muscles in your back begin to spasm. He pulls back and gently rolls you so you’re laying with your head on his chest and begins rubbing soothing circles on your shoulder with one hand while the other reaches over to touch your face. The curtains on his four-poster bed are drawn tight against the morning light and quickly Sebastian grabs his wand from under his pillow and casts a silencing charm around the two of you. He then casts another that causes a soft glow to illuminate the space so that he could see your face. Then he puts his want back under his pillow and returns to petting you.

“Shh. It’s okay. That’s my girl.” He repeats in a soothing tone. After a few minutes you still, and sigh as your eyes flutter open.

For a moment you forget where you are, as if you hadn’t woken in Sebastian’s bed most days in you seventh year, with nightmares wracking your body and mind and the pain being simply too much. Slowly, you become aware of Sebastian’s calming voice and his warm sturdy body pressed against yours. He grounded you gently with comforting words and his large, freckled hands innocently exploring your body.

Finally, when the tremors stop you pull back and gaze up at the man holding you. His eyes are already trained on you, his lips twisted in concern.

“Thank you.” You whisper, dropping your eyes shyly at his intense gaze.

Everything about Sebastian had become intense these last few months. You didn’t know how but he seemed to have become an even bigger fixture in your life, barely leaving your side I he could help it. He’s even become physically larger, taller and broader; towering over most of the student body. Only Ominis was taller than him, but unlike the blonde Slytherin prince Sebastian had filled out to the point where his shirts strained at the shoulders and wrists, especially since he’d started playing Quidditch as a Beater.

One of your few true pleasures in life was watching him fly and seeing him play was no exception. The pure joy he radiated was infectious. But lately watching his intense expression as he concentrated on the game made you feel things you weren’t sure if you should feel about a best friend. His low rumbling voice brought your attention back to earth.

“How are you feeling?” He asked, a warm freckled hand to cup the side of your jaw. You take a moment to collect your scattered thoughts then evaluate the state of your sore body. Your back feels tender and the nightmare had exhausted you. You bury your face in his chest, trying to stop the tears in your eyes from overflowing.

“I’m okay. I had a bad dream.” You explain a little ashamed that a mere nightmare would affect you so badly. He nodded.

“Would it feel better if you told me? Get it out?” For a moment you freeze, terrified he would judge you. Then you remember its Sebastian, you’d seen him fall into the lake from his broomstick and burn his eyebrows off with rogue confringo.

“I keep dreaming that I’m getting married.” You say, still not meeting his eyes. “I feel so happy I could burst and then just as my husband lays me down on our marital bed I explode in pain. Everything goes black and when I come back, he’s staring at me with this horrible, disgusted look.”

You shudder, the image of the faceless man's lips curling in revulsion imprinted on your brain. You sigh.

“I’m so tired.” You say and lay your head back down, eyes already closing.

Sebastian watches as you drift off, his hands continuing to rub your shoulder almost absentmindedly. Anger builds in his stomach at the thought of anyone making you feel lesser. If you were his he would make you feel cherished, he swore to himself, you’d never feel anything but adored.

And he could barely think straight after the idea of you and him on your wedding night entered his thoughts.

His head was a mess of hormones and emotions lately. It felt like he was hyper aware of your every movement, when you played with your hair during class or huffed out a breath. You scent maddens him and his every waking moment seemed to be taken up with thoughts of you. Concern, of course, for your wellbeing but starting this summer it had also been a physical response as well. He admitted secretly to himself that he dreamt about you, dreams that ended with him grinding against his pillows or the mattress, glad you weren’t tucked close to him.

When you were next to him, he had to distance himself in the bed, closing his eyes tightly and flexing his legs; willing his raging erection down. Usually, it worked but there were a few times he’d have to flee to the washroom to work himself to orgasm, nightshirt pulled up and stuffed into his mouth to muffle his moans.

He felt the familiar stirrings now and quickly bit his lip, willing himself to calm down. You were his best friend, you trusted him. He couldn’t ruin this with his lewd thoughts and actions.

Finally, he fell into a sort of trance, counting your soft even breaths to anchor himself. He heard the muffled sound of his dorm mates awakening and shuffling around, preparing for the day. He stayed quiet and close to you, not wanting his movements to wake you from a well needed restful sleep.

The dorm had been silent for almost ten minutes when you shifted, wrapping your arm around his chest and pressing yourself against his ribcage. Bad enough that this position pushed your breasts against the thin cotton of your nightdress, but you also threw one of your legs over his, essentially straddling his thigh. Sebastian was rife with panic and lust as he tried to move away, and he would swear on trial that he was just trying to adjust you as to preserve both of your propriety.

But as his hand went to your hip and he shifted the leg you were pressed against, you moaned so sweetly it was like a drug; he was intoxicated instantly. Then with his hand still on your hip and your arms around him, you began to rock slowly. Your breasts pressed against the hard muscle of his abdomen as you were tucked into him with his arm around your shoulders. If he moved the hand that had been rubbing your shoulder, he could cup your breast and feel if your nipples were as hard to his fingers as they felt digging into his side.

You moan again, your breathing becoming heavier as you press yourself into the cotton of his sleep pants. Sebastian could feel your panting, hot against his throat. Suddenly you thrust harder against him with a whine and your knee hitches up and brushes his hardened cock. He couldn’t stop the groan that reverbs through his chest, vibrating your entire being. Suddenly, you still and he feels you sharply inhale. There’s a moment of silence, heavy with possibilities.

“Sebastian?” Your voice is barely above a whisper, and he can feel the heat radiating from your blushing cheeks. He lets out a shaky breath, trying to relax his tense body.

“I’m here love.” He says and you don’t notice the term of endearment past rushing of blood in your ears.

“I’m so sorry.” You gasp, jerking away. Sebastian quickly sits up, scrambling after you, and catching your shoulders.

“Wait. Please.” He begs.

Your hands fly up to cover your face with a groan and he grasps them to pull them away so that he can clearly see your flushed face. The lighting is soft within the confines of the green velvet curtains, but he can see the colour high on your cheeks and how your chest heaves. You look absolutely mouthwatering as you bite your lip, finally raising your eyes to meet his.

“I’m so, so sorry.” You repeat. Sebastian shakes his head.

“I really don’t think you have anything to apologize for.” He says, hand going to your chin to tilt your face up towards his, heat blooming deep inside him as your eyes flick down to his lips then back up. Feeling bold, Sebastian lowers his lashes, and you mewl softly as his dark eyes rake over your face and he wets his lips.

“What were you dreaming about this time love?” He asks, his voice husky.

You shudder and move closer to him. You’re both knelt facing each other and you press yourself closer so that his right knee is almost between your legs.

“I was dreaming about the wedding night again.” You whisper, unable to take your eyes off his.

“I was on the bed wearing nothing but the lightest chemise and when I looked up-” You raise a hand to trail up with jaw and gently trace his lips. “When I look up, this time it's you that's standing above me.”

Sebastian shivers and puts a hand on your wrist to hold your fingers to his lips. His next words you feel against the pads of your fingertips.

“What was I doing?” He rasps.

“You were staring at me. But you weren’t disgusted. You looked like you wanted, no, needed me.” Your breath stutters to a halt as he slowly sucks your fingers into his mouth, his tongue curling around your index finger.

“Then what?” He asked around your digit.

“Then you start touching me in places that I didn’t know felt so good.” Your hips nudged forward again and now his knee is pressed fully against your center. Sebastian releases your hand and places his hands on your waist and pulls you into his lap, grinding you down into his thigh. He leans forward and presses his lips against the shell of your ear.

“Keep going.” He whispers roughly, rocking you, revelling in the damp spot that was forming on the fabric of his pants. For a moment you lose yourself in the sweet friction, head falling back with your lips parting. It was somehow better than anything you’d ever felt before.

“What have you felt before?” Sebastian inquires and you jolt, unaware you had voiced your last thought. You meet his lust darkened eyes and he rubs sensual circles on your hip bones, then he slips his hands under your nightgown to caress the silky skin there. You just whine and he grips the skin almost painfully.

“Answer me sweetness.” He commands softly and you shudder.

“I’ve touched myself.” You stammer out. Sebastian raises a dark eyebrow. You can't help but grind your hips down on him, the feeling of your slick seeping through your drawers onto him is exhilarating and the scent of him is heavy in the air. He smells like fire and peppermint, and it clings to the fabric of the bed, you feel as if inhaling it alone could make you come.

“Do you use your fingers?” He asks, almost innocently and you blush. But you can’t help but he honest with him, so you nod. In response he twitches against you, his hips jerking up to push his hard clothed length against where he’s pressed against you.

“I-I use my fingers and sometimes my pillow.”

He groans, his head falling forward to your shoulder. He then gently nips the skin there, making you shiver with desire.

“Does it feel like this?” He asks huskily, rubbing his thigh into your cleft, at the same time shoving his hips forward to press his erection into you again. You shake your head and clutch his shoulder.

“You’re much harder. More intense.” He laughs.

“I would certainly hope so.”

He bucks up against once more you to emphasize his point. The heat between your legs is becoming unbearable, your drawers too slick to get the friction you need, and you whimper.

“S-Sebastian. Please I need...” You trail off, head falling back. Sebastian’s face comes up from the crook of your shoulder and he watches you intently.

“What do you need my love.” He says, one hand coming up to caress your face; his thumb swiping over your lower lip.

“Kiss me. Touch me. Anything. Please!” Your words sound needy even to your ears, but you can’t find it in you to care.

Especially not when he dips his head down to press his lips against yours. You gasp against him, tangling your fingers into his sleep mussed brown hair. He pushes you back against the soft pillows and his scent wafts up to you even stronger than before.

He breaks the kiss and you’re both breathing hard, but you can’t help but melt at the soft look in his hazel eyes. His hands begin to wander over your body, down your shoulders, squeezing your thighs and skimming up your ribs before stopping just below your breasts. His thumbs brush the swell just before your breasts begin and he searches your expression.

“Can I?” He asks, sounding just as wrecked as you feel. You nod quickly and he wastes no time cupping your breasts fully. You arch as a wordless plea leaves your lips. You drop your hands to his shirt, pawing at the buttons. He allows you to pull the garment off him, only taking his hands off you for enough time that it takes to slip his shirt down his shoulders; not wanting to lose the feel of you for a second.

You marvel at the taut muscles under your fingers, exploring first his shoulder then his chest. He has a constellation of freckles all over, and you marvel at the flush that stains his skin and make them stand out even darker. When your hands fall to the waistband of his pants though, he quickly grabs them.

“Not yet.” He almost moans. “I won’t last.”

He then, much to your displeasure, pulls back and slides down your body while looking up at you with a filthy expression. He bunches your nightgown around your waist and kisses your stomach just above the band of your drawers. You arch into him again and his hands come up to press your hips into the mattress.

“Relax.” He purrs. “I want to make you feel good.”

You can barely think at this point, your skin is on fire at the barest touch.

“Please.” You beg. “More.”

Despite your pleas he takes his time, gazing at the wet patch you’ve made with awe. Then he slowly leans forwards and kisses your clothed center. You keen at the sensation of his lips against you and you feel the huff of his laugh. He takes your hands and places them on top of his head and gazes up at you as he hooks his fingers into the waist of your drawers.

“You’re in control here.” He promises as he pulls them down. “Tell me if you’re uncomfortable.”

You nod even though you’re sure he’s not looking then almost scream as he licks you from your opening to your clit then back down. His groan reverberates through you and one of your hands fly where it's tangled in his hair to cover your mouth.

He reaches up and tugs your hand back down, not stopping his ministrations for a moment.

“Don’t hold back,” He gasps against your slick lips. “I want to hear you.”

You shake your head frantically, pressing your lips tightly together.

“They’ll hear.” You whisper, eyes darting to the curtains. Sebastian sharply sucks your clit into his lips before dipping his tongue back into your slick.

“They’ve all left. It’s just the two of us.”

With that you let your head fall back and stare up at the canopy above you as he slowly takes you apart. You feel his nimble fingers trail down your thighs and to your opening, gently prodding you open with his index finger. You buck against him and the hand still on your hip pushes you down again then he braces his forearm over your abdomen, pinning you down.

His eyes don’t leave your face as he pumps his finger in time with his tongue, slowly adding another finger as he felt your channel loosen. You can feel the most intense orgasm of your life growing low in your belly and your thighs begin to tremble. His fingers continue to move, stroking your walls, as he lifts his head and nips at your inner thigh.

“Let go.” He whispers and you raise your head to look at him. His lips glisten with your arousal and his tongue darts out to swipe it up, his eyes closing at the taste. When they open you swear, they’re glowing.

“Look at me when you come” he says. “I want to see it.”

You whine, canting your hips, fighting the urge to close your eyes. His eyes stay on yours as he lowers his mouth back to your clit, tongue swirling around it and fingers pressing against that spot you could never reach.

Despite his holding you down you almost buck him off with the intensity of your orgasm. A ragged cry drags itself from your chest and your fingers tighten to an almost painful level in Sebastian’s hair. He groans against you, one arm dropping so he can palm his erection.

Finally, you push him away as overstimulation makes you whimper. He pulls back looking like sin incarnate, licking your essence from his lips. He doesn’t let you breathe as he surges forward to capture your lips gain, his tongue swiping into your mouth messily. You can taste yourself on him and it stokes the fire within you as you gasp and you tongues tangle. Its messy with teeth and lips colliding but it’s the most amazing thing you’ve ever felt.

Sebastian only pulls back to pull you nightgown over your head then he presses his lips back to yours. He finally lets you pull his pants down, freeing his now painfully hard cock. He hisses as your wrap your fingers around his length, and you pull away to and your eyes dart down to it. He doesn’t blush as you look at him with naked want, licking your lips.

He's thick, so thick you can barely close your fingers around him. The head is red, and the rest is dark and veined, he feels like silk wrapped around steel. Curiously you stroke him up and down, fascinated with the way it twitches in your grasp. Suddenly he catches your hand, and your eyes jerk up to meet his

“Not yet.” He says, leaning forwards and kissing you almost sweetly. “I want to feel you.”

The admission takes your breath away, as does the soft way he’s looking up at you from beneath hooded lids. You nod eagerly and he sweeps in to kiss you again before pulling back and gripping your thighs, gently parting and slotting himself between them. He turns so that his back is against the headboard and pulls you onto his lap straddling him. His cock is pressed against your lower stomach, smearing precum on your fevered skin. He takes a moment to get you settled, running his hands up your ribs and brushing against the puckered skin of your scar. You groan at the soothing feel of his hands against you. He then guides you so that the tip of him is pressed against your dripping opening, leaning forward to press his forehead against yours.

“Go at your pace. You can stop at any time if it hurts.”

You nod and take a shuddering breath. Then, with your hands on his shoulders you begin to slowly lower yourself. The unfamiliar feeling of the stretch has you sucking in a breath between your teeth, but you don’t stop. It's different, but not bad you decide.

You don’t stop until you’re fully seated on him, eyes fluttering at the deep pleasure it invokes. Sebastian can barely hold back from thrusting into you as he watches you bite your lip, breasts heaving. Finally, you rock your hips forward and Sebastian feels his eyes roll into the back of his head.

You moan, not bothering to hold back your noises anymore as your fingers dig into his shoulders. His hands were gripping your hips so hard he was sure he would leave bruises, but you don't care. He can't keep his eyes off you as you increased your pace, bouncing desperately up and down on his lap.

Suddenly he leaned forward to press his lips into yours, swallowing the sweet noise you made. Even muffled, you adore the sounds Sebastian made. He was unrepentant in his need for you, growling and moaning right along with you. When he finally lets you breathe, he wraps his arms around your middle, pulling you to his chest and bucking up into your heat. This put his mouth right by your ear and he begins to whisper the filthiest things.

“You feel so fucking good.” He gasps. “Wrapped so tightly around my cock. I’ve wanted you for so long, needed you in my bed. You’re mine, tell me you’re mine.”

The last words came out as a ragged plea and you nodded vigorously.

“I’m yours. Please, I’m yours.” Your voice is hoarse now. “I’m so close Sabastian please.”

You felt him smile against your skin as his pace increases. You are barely able to keep up at this point.

Then he tips you back, bracing his arms so you won’t fall hard on your sensitive back, and increases his tempo. You’re practically sobbing at this point, thrashing your head back and forth against the soft covers. Sebastian’s adjusted his hips, and his pelvis was suddenly pressed right against your aching clit, and you barely have the breath to stutter out his name before you were soaring.

Sebastian barely holds on as your walls clench around him, and a wash of warmth and wetness soak him. Pounding into you as you continue to flutter around him, Sebastian chases his own release. It only takes a few frantic thrusts before he is burying his head in your neck and he bites down, suckling the tender skin there as he exploded within you.

The heat of his bite and the warmth that flooded you trigger another orgasm, and you see stars, legs wrapping around his waist and pulling him as close as possible.

As you both come down, Sebastian lazily thrusts his semi-hard cock within you, basking in the afterglow. After a few shuddering breaths he finally slips out of you and lays next to you, limbs shaking slightly. You tuck yourself against him again, hands slowly exploring his sweat slick body. Your heart feels so full, and you find yourself blinking back tears. At your sniffle Sebastian pulls back and cups your face to tilt it up to him.

“Did I hurt you?” He asks anxiously. You shake your head and lean up to kiss him sweetly on the lips.

“I love you.” You whisper, eyes scanning his face for any reaction.

A grin immediately split his freckled face and he pulls you against his lips. Then he pulls back and kisses your nose, forehead, eyelids and even chin. You giggle helplessly as he settles back on your lips before pulling back and looking at you with adoring hazel eyes.

“I love you too.” He says. “So much it hurts. Please will you be mine?”

He intertwines his fingers with yours, still not taking has eyes off yours. You squeeze his hand.

“I’m already yours. I always have been.”

Somehow he grins even wider.

“Would you like to go to Hogsmeade today? Make it official?”

You roll your eyes. Then you push your face into his bare chest, ignoring the twitch you feel from his lower half.

“After I wake up.” You say, voice muffled by warm skin. He laughs his infectious laugh, and you find yourself smiling in turn.

#fanfic #hogwarts legacy #hogwarts legacy fanfic #sebastian sallow #Sebastian sallow smut #smut #Sebastian sallow x reader

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hypnoneghoul · 3 months

Text

Down To The Ground

WC: 5k

Relationship: Swiss/Mist

Tags: Murder Ghouls, Blood and Gore, Violence, Injury, Intersex Mist, Tentacle Dick, Anal Sex, Dubious Consent, Blood As Lube, Vaginal Sex, Intoxication, Toxic Cum, Gill Play, Come Inflation, Scratching, Multiple Orgasms, Consensual But Not Safe Or Sane, Thigh Humping, Objectification (if you squint), Size Difference, Cock Bulge

Swiss had finally gotten a chance to get fucked by Mist. It's a wild ride.

Notes: Commission for @sexy-sea-basss. Thank you for your support and letting me absolutely run with this heheh

Read under the cut or on AO3.

Swiss has had his eyes on her for ages. From the moment he had met her—about a year after he was summoned, because she had been away with the Ministry’s business—he had immediately known he had to get into her bed. She was beautiful and intimidating and there were so many things he wanted her to do to him. He had thought he would do anything she would ask him of. So he had waited.

Respectfully, of course, he was not an animal, but he had been waiting for a chance for months. During those months, his desire for her had only been fueled by various stories from the ghouls that knew her the longest. With some of them Swiss had no idea if they were real or made up just to scare him. Or to turn him on.

Anyway, he had waited patiently until an opportunity would come up. It was unexpected when it did happen, but it was exciting nonetheless. He had barely even spoken to her properly before that day, but when she stormed into their common room—looking sick and stripped bare of her usual stoic demeanor—Swiss’ eyes lit up and his lips curled into a grin.

“Who’s up for a hunt?” Mist asked, her voice barely above a growl and her eyes wide.

The multi ghoul’s hand shot up, but Dewdrop sitting next to him kept him down with a jab in the ribs with an elbow. “Ow, what!? You hunt all the time. I hunt all the time.”

“She’s not offering a hunt, Swiss. It’s a hunt with her and you are not up for it. Especially unprepared, trust me,” the fire ghoul muttered into his ear, so fast the words were all jumbled together and barely understandable. Mist was waiting, after all.

“Oh, come on. I won’t break. I am up for a little fun,” Swiss shrugged and got up from the couch before Dewdrop could actually stop him. Mountain sitting on the armchair opposite from them was hiding behind a book, staying silent and not drawing any attention to himself. The multi ghoul walked up to Mist and she grabbed his arm, pulling him out of the common room with more strength than she should possess, considering her size.

The moment the two disappeared behind the corner Mountain lowered his book and looked over at Dewdrop, both of them sighing exasperatedly. “It was nice knowing him, I guess.”

In the meantime, Swiss was struggling to keep up with Mist’s pace as she dragged him outside the Abbey, anticipation warming him up from the inside.

“Uh, so…” the multi ghoul started, after clearing his throat, “what exactly does a hunt with you entail?”

“Killing something and fucking in it’s blood,” Mist growled, her sharp claws digging into his arm.

“Color me excited,” Swiss mumbled as pangs of both anxiety and arousal shot through him. Neither of them uttered any more words for a while after that.

Only when they were deep inside the woods did Mist push Swiss down to his knees and spoke, “You’re going to run and find me food. It's out there, they let it out for me. Bring it down, but don’t kill. Wait for me.”

“Yes, m– ma’am,” the multi ghoul muttered, not daring to look up at her. She didn’t really do anything to him—yet—but he was already out of his mind, cock rapidly chubbing up in his pants. Mist grabbed his horn and tugged with a growl, so hard something in his neck cracked.

“Get moving, then. Run.”

And run Swiss did, scrambling up and tripping over his own legs and roots curving up and out of the ground. He started running with no regards to the direction just yet. Mist said something was let out for her. Prey.

When the multi ghoul ran far away enough so that he was sure the ghoulette could not see him anymore—unless she had been following him—he paused, panting. He shucked off his shirt and as soon as he caught his breath again, he focused on all the scents surrounding him. There was so many layers, all the trees, animals, rich ground, the creak, and–

Fear.

The smell of fear reached his flared nostrils, raw human fear. They must have known why they were there and they must have known their fate. The ghouls were a cautionary tale to the siblings, after all. Swiss doubted this one was a sibling, though. It could have been—if they had committed a crime—but such stupid ones didn’t come along often. More likely it was someone smuggled from the city, someone who didn’t deserve a quick or a peaceful death. Usually it was rapists. Sister Imperator was not stupid, she knew that in order for the hellish beasts—quite literally living in her basement—to not turn on her and the Clergy, she had to let them indulge once in a while. A deal with dirty men in power from the cities closest to the Abbey was her way to execute that.

Swiss took off running again, following the now clear trail of the human’s stench. He wasn’t far from them, it would take him mere minutes to bring them down, fly them open and–

And wait for Mist.

The multi ghoul’s cock kicked in his pants —which reminded him he still had them on—at the thought and he slowed down, crouching down by a trunk of a thick tree. He took a deep breath and let it out with a growl on his lips. They were close.

He got out of the fabric prison and let his glamor float away a bit more. He stayed down, reduced to instinct now that the human’s fear was so close and smelled so potent and delicious. Swiss slowly stalked closer and closer to the source. It must have been clueless. It probably stopped, tired of running and already knowing there was no way for it to escape.

Swiss narrowed his eyes as he looked around, peeking from behind a tree in an attempt to gain a visual of his prey. He succeeded.

It was sitting on the trunk of a fallen tree, slumped, shaking and whimpering. The multi ghoul’s fangs throbbed and his mouth watered as he began to approach, staying close to the ground. He was not especially well attuned with his earth part, but it was enough to feel her rumbling, her heart beating, as if encouraging him. She could not wait to feel warm blood soaking into her. After all, she had to get a snack once in a while, too.

The next few moments were a blur, as usual. Instinct and adrenaline taking over, Swiss pounced at the human curled in on itself. It shrieked and the multi ghoul wanted to silence it by ripping its fragile little throat out with his fangs, but Mist had ordered otherwise. He dug his claws into its neck instead, crouched atop it on the ground. Not enough to damage, but more than enough to stop it from squirming as they waited for the water ghoulette.

They did not have to wait long. She appeared out of nowhere, suddenly just there.

Mist growled with her teeth bared, and Swiss backed up before she got the chance to maul him, too. He let out a submissive chatter as he scrambled to the side and knelt, his eyes hung on the other as she started the meal. There was not much thought left in the multi ghoul’s brain by now, but he still hoped he had get to eat some, too.

He was drooling down his chin and onto the ground as Mist sliced open the human’s abdomen with one claw. Its scream was like music to their ears. It did not scream for long, though, because next came its throat, ripped out with one rapid movement of the water ghoulette’s arm. She shoved her hand into the bloody fountain that was the human’s midsection and pulled out its insides, throwing them to the side. Her other side, far away from Swiss. He wasn't a fan of the guts, but he would rather have those than nothing.

Mist threw out all that she deemed not to her taste—all while growling and snarling, seemingly without a shred of humanity left in her—and on the last pull the heart came out. She stared at her price panting with wide eyes as blood trickled down her forearms and dripped down onto the ground from her elbow. Swiss whined like a kicked puppy at the sight, need and hunger twisting inside him nearly painfully.

The water ghoulette’s head snapped to the side and for a moment Swiss thought his heart would end up in her other hand and his throat in her mouth, but instead Mist had ripped off the human's leg and threw it to him. The multi ghoul grabbed it greedily and sank his aching fangs into the meat, moaning as blood flooded his mouth.

After a moment, Mist stood up and walked over to him, the human’s heart still in hand. She put her other hand on Swiss’ head, dying his locs with blood, and pushed down with so much strength the multi ghoul had no chance to not go down with the force. He braced himself on his forearms and continued gnawing at the leg as Mist grabbed his tail next and pulled it up so hard it hurt his spine. Swiss got the hint, though—even with his brain leaking out of his ears—and pushed his ass all the way up, arching his back.

His body started shaking as he waited. Naked, face down in the blood-soaked foliage and ass up in the air, his tail hooked up high over his hip. Presenting and ready for whatever it was Mist wanted from him. He heard her behind him, chewing and growling over the obscene noises of herself devouring a heart. The blood splashing. The muscle ripping.

Out of nowhere something warm and sticky hit Swiss’ ass. He was plenty wet by now, but when he realized Mist had just spat the human’s blood onto his hole, another glob of slick leaked out of it, mixing with the gore.

Fuck in something’s blood, she had said.

Then, the ghoulette was on him, claws raking down his back and settling at the fat on his hips, digging in just as he did earlier to their prey’s neck. Swiss was feeling so empty since it had started, but then there was something cool and slimy wiggling against him and–

Right. Mist was a water ghoul

That was her tentacle.

He moaned at the realization and pushed his own claws deep into the damp and soft ground below him. The tip of the water ghoulette’s tentacle pressed against his asshole and with no more preamble kept on pressing without any regards to his squirming and submissive whining. She held him still with unbelievable strength as her cock reached places inside him not even Mountain had ever reached. Neither had Aether with his quintessence. He felt so full, like she was in his throat and in his veins and between his bones.

One thing about the multi ghoul was that he liked pain. He loved it, even. He also loved being pushed to his limits and tested. Filled so full it hurt with how his insides were stretched was his idea of heaven. It was as close to heaven as any ghoul would ever get.

Swiss could barely breathe, there were tears in his eyes and blood on his tongue and he was out of his mind. He lay there as Mist’s tentacle kept going, curling and unwinding, tensing and loosening, bunching up and lengthening. It stretched his hole impossibly and it stung, even though he was so slick it was a miracle the tentacle did not keep slipping out. Only thanks to how long it was and the suckers that kept catching on his rim.

The multi ghoul barely had any idea on what was happening, panting and letting out debauched noises one after the other as his insides were being thoroughly explored by Mist’s tentacle. His whole body jostled when it thickened even more, as if it had bent in half snd twisted around itself inside him. The tip of it pressed against Swiss’ prostate and he wailed at the feeling of what—he could have only guessed—was the suckers sticking to that little, but magical, bundle of nerves inside him. He had never felt such a thing, not even with Rain.

When the tentacle seemed to have found its purpose, Mist started actually fucking him. She pulled back—the tentacle stretching—only to slam back in and push Swiss forward on the ground with the force of it. It stayed attached to him on the inside so the water ghoulette could thrust as wildly as she wanted and not risk slipping out and pausing Swiss’ torture for even a second. The constant pressure on his prostate provided him with as incessant pleasure that was only being spiked with each slam of Mist’s hips. His hole kept stretching around her cock as it bunched up to reach its maximum—Swiss hoped—thickness and filled him to the brim on every single thrust. It was maddening and there was no way the multi ghoul was coming out of these woods alive.

The water ghoulette was, seemingly, even more gone, overwhelmed by whatever animalistic instinct it was that had taken over her that day. It looked like a rut, but if she was in one, Rain should be too and he was not. It was not important, Swiss supposed, as long as he was getting fucked and, oh, was he getting fucked.

Mist pounded away into the ghoul under her with abandon, snarling and snapping her teeth over him as he moaned and whined like he a bitch in heat being at the very least skinned alive.

Well, there was not much skin left on his back. And he was a bitch.

With another particularily sharp thrust Swiss’ elbows gave out and his face ended up buried even deeper in the dirt, his chest now, too, as his back arched further. It hurt, both his muscles and the mauled skin, but it also felt good. So, so good—all of it—that the multi ghoul would jerk off to the memory of that day for years to come.

He whined and moaned and groaned and whimpered as Mist fucked him like nobody else ever had. He was out in space and deep down in the ground at the same time and the water ghoulette had really just begun. The pressure inside Swiss was pushing his brain out of him and there were no words, nothing coherent, left in his head. All he could do was pray to Lucifer that Mist would take her time, let him enjoy his torture for as long as possible. And maybe fuck him like that again in the future.

The multi ghoul’s cock was abandoned, hanging heavily between his legs and wagging with the power of Mist’s thrusts. He would come untouched and there was no doubt about that, because the tentacle latched directly onto his prostate was more overwhelming than any vibrator he had ever put up there. And he had put a lot of things up his ass.

Mist fucked him like a cheap whore, skin slapping against skin and all the wetness between then creating the lewdest sounds, accompanied by all the debauched noises falling from the wrecked multi ghoul’s mouth.

Soon enough the water ghoulette’s own grunts and moans gained in volume and pitch and she stayed inside for a little bit longer with each thrust. Swiss’ body, more than his mind, recognized it as Mist getting close to cumming, so he—as helpful as ever—clenched down on her dick with all his might, making himself shudder.

But Mist did groan loudly one last time and then Swiss felt himself get filled with something that most definitely was cum, but it felt a lot different. More slimy, thicker. And cold. Not really cold, but it was like… the first thing that came to his mind was menthol. The coolness spread inside him, as if it was absorbed right into his bloodstream. It felt weird—nothing like he had ever felt— but not necessarily bad.

Not bad at all, actually, and the way this strange thing filling him up pushed him to the very edge of an orgasm was proof of that. He felt so full, there was so much pressure inside him and it was maddening. The multi ghoul knew that if he were to look down he would see his belly all distended.

The thought made him whimper and his insides swoop, so look down he did, and sure enough he looked fucking pregnant. Swiss moaned like a true whore at the sight and clenched down like a vice on Mist’s cock again as he started cumming.

His orgasm was soul crushing. His vision went white, his whole body spasmed and debauched noises kept spilling from his lips with no filter whatsoever. The multi ghoul spilled copious amounts of cum down onto the ground and if his eyes would still cooperate with him he would see the pearly liquid mix with the still wet blood under the two of them.

Swiss was shaking. He could barely hold himself up, but he did not dare collapse while Mist’s hands were still gripping his hips tightly. He panted with his tongue lolled out, his eyelids drooping as he swayed, aftershocks rocking his body.

Thankfully, the water ghoulette let go and pulled out soon enough. Swiss felt pitifully empty out of nowhere and another whine left him at that. He also felt that strange cum-like substance slowly leaking out of him, mixed with his own slick and the dead human’s blood. Mist pushed at him and he fell to the side limply, nothing more than a ragdoll. She snarled down at him as she pushed and pulled his body—so much bigger than hers, after all—to her liking, putting her into whatever position it was that she wanted him in.

Swiss sobered up a little bit as his back suddenly hit the trunk of that fallen tree and it must have been completely shredded by now if pain that erupted all over at the impact was any indication. Mist’s unglamored claws were as sharp as knives and they left angry red welts in their wake every single time she touched and manhandled him, so it was no surprise, but he did not worry too much. Mountain would patch him up, as usual.

Everything was spinning, his nerves were on fire, there was lava in his veins and the multi ghoul was so out of it, drowning in sensation, that he barely felt Mist straddling his thigh and drenching him in all the wetness that came with it.

It was obscene, but Swiss never once failed to go insane about the famous water ghoul slick. It was addicting and if he could, it would be all he wouls drink for the rest of his eternal life.

Mist’s tentacle was wiggling around in Swiss’ lap, brushing against his sensitive cock now and then. It seemed to have a mind on its own, not caring about what its owner was up to, as the water ghoulette started humping his leg, grinding down purposefully. Her groans resonated in the relative silence of the woods and the multi ghoul was drinking them down like the finest wine.

For a while—or maybe just a moment—it went on like this, as peaceful as it would get. Mist was taking her pleasure and Swiss was… well, he just was. Laying there, so fucked out there was no brain at all in him.

At some point Mist leaned forward and Swiss went cross eyed looking intently at her tits right in front of his face. They didn’t seem to be the reason for the shift in the water ghoulette’s position, though. She reached out over his shoulder and dug her claws into the tree trunk as she curled over him.

“Gills,” she snarled, “lick ‘em.”

The multi ghoul’s brain short-circuited.

“Y– yes, m– ma’am,” he slurred and surged forward, closing his mouth over Mist’s neck. He sucked lightly, pulling the delicate flesh of her gills in between his teeth and dragging his tongue along the thin, damp slits. Mist moaned and it reverberated through him, making his spent cock kick. It was rapidly filling up again, no time to waste.

Especially with how the water ghoulette’s tentacle kept teasing his dick, slithering up and down its length, flicking the head and going back down to loosely wrap around the base and squeeze. Only to let go, then, and go up again.

Swiss was not worried about that, though, as he was making out with Mist’s neck, licking into the gills and suckling on the little fins along the openings. There was no brain left in him, but gills were his third most favorite meal both Topside and in the Pit and the multi ghoul was not a wasteful person.

Mist seemed to be enjoying it, though, and her noises and near desperate—if Swiss did not know any better—way in which she was humping his thigh were only fueling the multi ghoul’s high.

Swiss did not know if it was seconds or hours later, but at some point there was a gush of liquid over his leg and a high and wrecked moan filled his ears. Mist came again and this time it was not from her tentacle cock, only her cunt. The multi ghoul heard and felt her breathing heavily above him and he paused the ministrations of his mouth, leaving just a few more delicate kisses over the sensitive organ. If the circumstances were any different, it might have even been considered a cute gesture on his part.

The water ghoulette stood up and Swiss was not sure if the string of slick and cum linking his thigh with her sex was real or a hallucination. Both options were possible at that point, but he did not have much time to think about it, because in the next second Mist grabbed his horn again and pulled, throwing him down onto the ground fully, and then pushing his side with her foot to turn him onto his back.

Swiss was very much out of it—dizzy and basically blind and deaf—and he did not realize what the water ghoulette was doing until her wet cunt slid all the way down onto his cock, rock hard again. He sputtered, choking on air as he gasped at the sudden cool tightness and a wrecked sound left him when Mist started moving right away—no time to adjust for either of them—bouncing and grinding for her own pleasure. Her hands were clenched tightly on his thighs and the multi ghoul felt blood trickle down his skin from all ten of the small, but deep, puncture wounds.

He lifted his head clumsily, but it was too much effort to hold it up, so it lolled to one side and then another before he let it thump back against the ground below. The woods were so loud, he had never noticed it before.

Swiss lay there, sprawled out on the blood and cum soiled ground, and stared up at the trees. They were thick, the branches and the leaves, but some sun did shine through the gaps. It was pretty, although the multi ghoul would most definitely enjoy it more in different circumstances. He would have to ask Mountain out for a walk-in-the-woods date night.

Mist was bouncing away and groaning as his cock filled and stretched her out nicely. There must have been a bit of pain to it, Swiss’ cock was not small by any means, and the water ghoulette was truly tiny.

That gave the multi ghoul a thought—a rare thing nowadays, it seemed—and he tried once again to lift his head. It took a while for him to channel enough strength to the suspiciously loose muscles in his neck and even a longer while for his eyelids to go up and his eyes to clear, but once they fixed on Mist—on her stomach as she rode his cock furiously—Swiss’ vision went white again.

Every time the water ghoulette dropped back down, there was a noticeable bulge protruding from her otherwise flat and muscled stomach. Bulge caused by Swiss’ massive dick buried deep inside her cunt.

The multi ghoul gurgled, nowhere close coherent, and whined loudly as he felt another orgasm suddenly hit him like a freight train. Intense pleasure washed over him and he could not do anything about it but lay there and twitch his way through it, as his cum pumped into the water ghoulette.

The water ghoulette who did not care about it in the slightest.

Mist was fucking herself on his dick with his cum leaking out and down his shaft and balls, and Swiss was nothing but means to an end for her. He did not complain and, besides, his body felt too far away from him to have any control over, his hips could not even twitch. He did feel it all, though, and it was pure insanity. It hurt, he was as sensitive as ever, but it was glorious.

Swiss did get a chance to actually take some more active role in their… endeavor when the water ghoulette grabbed his limp hands and brought them up to her ribs, the underside of her tits. Her gills.

The multi ghoul was a little worried that he was too out of it to do anything meaningful and got scared that she would rip his throat out if he did not manage to be of any use. He would certainly try, though. And try he did.

Swiss swiped his thumbs over Mist’s pebbled nipples and squeezing her tits lightly before dragging them down and running his calloused fingertips over the little frills of her gills. He stroked up and down along the openings, focusing all his remaining willpower on steadying his big hands. He doubted that Mist would really mind getting hurt a bit, but he would rather not be the one to tear one of the most delicate parts of her just because he was cumdrunk. Even if she would not kill him for that, then Alpha surely would.

The water ghoulette let out an uncharacteristically soft sound—nearly a pretty, blissful sigh—when the tips of Swiss’ fingers dipped into her gills. They were tighter than the multi ghoul remembered Rain’s to be, but again, the size difference was significant. Mist rolled her hips, clenching down on Swiss’ cock at the added stimulation and his fuzzy brain took it as a sign to go on, press in deeper.

He had had enough practice for his gill fingering skills to be muscle memory already, so the multi ghoul let instinct take over. Not that he had much choice, he felt like he was dying. His arms were sore and tingly, like pins and needles, but he did not care, he tried so hard to focus. It was getting increasingly harder with every movement of the ghoulette on top of him.

Swiss curled his fingers, half of them sunken in to the second knuckle in between Mist’s ribs. The membrane there was leathery, but impossibly soft, and, most importantly, slick. So, so wet and slimy. The multi ghoul felt his throat vibrate as if it was his turn to groan, but he did not hear anything come out from his mouth, nor did he intend to do so.

He fingered her gills slowly, but with precision he did not expect he would be able to muster up at this point, petting inside in gentle back and forth strokes and thrusting softly in and out as Mist was grinding down on him, giving up bouncing in favor of receiving this undisturbed, delicious stimulation from her gills.

“Close,” she growled not much later and the word all but surprised the multi ghoul. They have not been doing much talking lately, after all. He also was not sure what it was that the water ghoulette was expecting him to do with that information, but he willed his throat to let out a noise in acknowledgement.

Swiss noticed something else moving around his legs, touching him. He thought Mist’s tail was doing something to him, he thought he felt it over his thighs and lower at his asscheeks, against his hole. He was not sure about anything, anymore, though.

He thought his head hurt. So did everything, but it was—mostly—a good pain, twisting and dancing with pleasure. He did not feel much else, though, less than half conscious. His control over… anything, really, was gettin even worse, as if he was high on the worst drugs known to man.

He felt his whole body sag, his hand drop from Mist’s gills, his head loll to the side and his tongue fall out of his mouth, suddenly too thick for it. He slowly blinked up at the water ghoulette once more and she looked like she was enjoying herself, so he let his eyelids droop. The last thing he remembered was Mist’s high moan, resonating over that incessant static buzz in his brain.

Hours later, Dewdrop and Mountain were cuddling on an armchair on one of the balconies facing the woods, enjoying a nice, warm and peaceful evening. It was getting dark, but something in the distance caught their eyes.

That something was Mist walking out of the woods and back to the Abbey with Swiss—a ghoul three times her size—thrown over her shoulder. The latter was definitely passed out and the both of them were drenched in blood and covered in dirt and Lucifer knows what else from head to toe.

“We did tell him that the cum from her tentacle is toxic, right?”

“Yup.”

“I should go get him patched up, shouldn’t I?”

“Yup.”

#hypnone writes #the band ghost #nameless ghouls #swiss ghoul #mist ghoulette #gill smut #hypnone's commissions

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theanimeroom · 7 months

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Im curious to hear ur opinion on how long Shidou would last NNN

NSFW UNDER THE CUT | MINORS DNI

NOVEMBER 24TH, 2023 — 5:12PM

NNN CHALLENGE MASTERLIST

the challenge honestly ended up being more for you than it was for him. shidou has a resolve of steel, so when he wants to prove a point, he makes sure to drive it home. so, the moment the man put himself into the challenge, you knew you were screwed.

you were needy. if there was one thing shidou knew, it was that. you were always begging for him, it didn’t matter whether he was working out, taking a business call, or trying to sleep. you were like the energizer bunny, not that he was complaining.

now don’t get him wrong, if definitely wasn’t easy watching you prance around in your skimpy shorts and tight shirts. your curves were one of his favorite things about you, and one thought about you or the pretty dips in yours hips and the man’s cock is rock hard. but when it came to facing a challenge, he couldn’t be seen as weak.

with that being said, he easily could have made it the whole month. you, on the other hand, were a bit of a problem. when your teasing in the form of clothing didn’t work, you upped the ante.

about a week before he lost you’d gone as far as to climb into his lap, not giving him a moment to process what was happening before you smashed your lips against his. a startled grunt left his lips, but it didn’t take long for him to reciprocate, his hand weaving into your hair and taking a tight grip.

he let you have your fun for a while, sliding your tongue against his while your hips rotated circles into his lap. it was only when your fingers started to fiddle with the latch on his belt that he stopped you short, despite the evident tent in his jeans.

it only progressively got worse from there, and ryusei knew that it was only a matter of time before he was going to have to do something about you.

like i said, he definitely would not have lasted until the end of the month, but someone just had to teach you a lesson. it was the only sensible thing to do.

so, he taught you a lesson.

“you better keep it up if you want to come tonight,” his voice was laced with boredom, watching as you bounced on his cock helplessly. ryusei had one hand on your hip, resting while the other is behind his head.

you’re doing all of the work — and by all of it i mean all of it — and ryusei knows that.

your thighs were way past burning, almost numb as you tried to force yourself into orgasm. you’d been teetering on the edge for what felt like hours, but shidou instructed that you either come while riding him or you don’t come at all.

it felt like a cruel prank, the only thing keeping you sane being the way his breath will hitch when you get the tempo just right.

the next time it happened you decided to pull through, bouncing as hard as you could until his previously placid hips were twitching under you.

“feel good, daddy?” you taunted, letting your hands run up his chest and towards his neck. a sadistic grin crossed his face as your hands seemingly started to choke him, an unimpressed eyebrow raising towards you.

before you could react his own hand was wrapping around your neck, dragging your face just centimeters from his own. his piercing eyes locked with yours; a warning, daring you to try something like that again.

clearly, he didn’t know you.

his grin only grew when you squeezed tighter in response, your defiance being enough to make the man crack.

with a swift movement, shidou was flipping you onto your stomach, filling your needy cunt with his cock once more. the moan that escaped you was guttural, coming from deep in your chest as your eyes grew low from the pleasure.

“feel’s real good,” ryusei all but growls into your ear. “why don’t you show me just how good you can make daddy feel, hm?”

don’t plagiarize, it’s not nice <3

©️ theanimeroom 2023

#no nut november challenge!#blues asks 💎#blue lock smut #shidou ryusei #shidou x reader #shidou ryuusei #shidou smut #shidou ryusei smut #blue lock #blue lock shidou #blue lock shidou smut

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thatsdemko · 1 year

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fake it? - p.gavi

mini series masterlist

masterlist

requested: n

pairing: Pablo gavi x fem!reader

warnings: hatred + fake dating(fav trope) + slight age gap

a/n: welcome to the first part of my mini series!!! hope you all enjoy it☺️

you agreed to one night you would put on a fake happy face and pretend to love the Pablo gavi. as much as you despised the young boy, he had came to your flat begging you to help him out and he reminded you that you owed him.

“remember you owe me! I helped you when you were drunk, it’s your turn for pay back!” those words stung your chest and were constantly replaying in your head the whole night you posed next to him. you didn’t even want to read the headlines of tomorrows news, you were helping out a “friend” but you couldn’t help but imagine what your family would have to say to the images.

“just keep smiling, you’re doing amazing.” Pablo said through his teeth. a smile planted on his face, his unbelievably sweaty hand in yours. you could see the end of the carpet, you were dying to reach the finish line. you couldn’t wait to step inside and drink the night away.

men with cameras and women with microphones shouted his name trying to grab his attention for a picture or for an interview. he only promised to do one, and then you could be swept inside to enjoy the evening in your separate ways. you were thankful pedri was there already inside, you couldn’t wait to talk to someone who knew you two weren’t dating.

“who is the lovely lady you brought with you tonight? she looks absolutely stunning!” the interviewer pointed to you off to the side, and the camera panned to you watching the other couples flaunt the red carpet. your eyes were full of shock when you saw Lionel Messi step out with his wife, you spent ages of your school years obsessing over him.

“my girlfriend,” the words felt uncomfortable coming out of his mouth, he turned gesturing for you to join him for a quick second, and your hand instantly cupped his pulling on your fake smile for the camera, “this is y/n.”

you could see it now, he just introduced you as his girlfriend and you could already see the football fan accounts losing their minds over you. you could feel the vibration of your phone against the fabric of your purse, your worst nightmare was happening and you weren’t sure how you could escape it now. because now you were stuck having to pose with Pablo gavi for a couple more months, until you could “break” things off.

“thank you so much for your time! enjoy inside.” the interviewer smiled waving a goodbye to you both, as you were swept away by a carpet attendee. officially making your way inside, you let go of his sweaty palm wiping your hand on the back of his suit coat.

“I cannot believe you had to do that. why didn’t you just ignore her question?” you took the first glass of champagne you saw from one of the servers and immediately downed the sparkling liquid.

“ignore her? she asked it as clear as day, y/n.” he rolled his eyes, he scanned the room looking for the familiar face of his friend, he needed to get away from you so you both could enjoy the night as promised.

“now my name is going to be all over the press. you have no idea what you’ve now done to my life.” your eyes finally found pedri first, and you were off to go talk to him. you needed someone with a sane mind to chat with.

pablo didn’t mean for his mistake to hurt you. the words slipped out of his mouth when he looked over at you, the red dress was complementing your curves and breasts he was so mesmerized by you. he didn’t know the words slipped from his mouth until the interviewer was repeating the words back to him.

“ah future mrs.gavi, everyone is already talking about you two.” pedri’s eyes lit up seeing you storm to him, his friend trailing behind you, pushing through groups of people just to stop you from ratting him out.

“how long do you think I’m going to have to keep this up?” you scoffed, you felt a hand gently brush your lower back sending butterflies through your stomach as your whole body jumped. you moved out of the way to see it was Pablo behind you.

“maybe a couple of months? it keeps his name from bad press,” pedri pointed his index finger at his friend before turning to you, “and it makes you look like you’re helping a troubled teenager. it’s a win win.”

“troubled teenager? please I’m only six months younger than her.” he scoffed noticing pedri’s head tilt towards a man with camera taking pictures for an event, and immediately Pablo’s hand touched your lower back it was only to keep with the bit. or for him, was it? he loved watching you bothered by the fact that you had to “date” him.

but as they always say, fake it until you make it. right?

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apocalypseornaw · 6 months

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Don't Blame Me (Pt 4/5)

Dean Winchester x Reader

Lucifer loyalists find you. What better way to hurt both Crowley and the Winchesters?

Warnings: cursing, violence

The funny thing about Dean knowing you were alive was that you'd allowed yourself that fleeting moment to remember. To remember the way he used to hold you, the way his lips and hands felt on your body, the way it felt the first time he'd ever told you he loved you and how your heart had nearly burst out your chest when he slipped that ring onto your finger.

For years you'd buried those memories. It wasn't easy for a demon to get drunk but you'd managed it a few times just to quiet the echo in your chest that Dean still managed to inhabit no matter how twisted your soul now was.

—-----------

You looked around at the cabin and couldn't help but laugh, a demon hiding out in the woods. Your dresser consisted of jeans, t shirts,henleys and flannels (much to Crowley's dismay but he refused to try to force you to dress the way most of his regime did, it helped to mark you as different anyways, the hunter turned demon that Crowley used to keep them in line)

You had the soul of a demon and the heart of a hunter. You leaned your head back against the wall where you sat on the kitchen floor. Enough liquor bottles to drown an elephant laid empty across the floor but you barely felt a buzz.

Your fingers slipped down under the neck of your shirt, absent-mindedly tracing the anti possession tattoo that adorned your skin. "I just need to know you're safe when I'm not with you" a humorless laugh escaped your lips as you launched a bottle across the room where it shattered when it hit the wall causing a spray of glass to go everywhere. “Lots of good that did”

You looked down at the broken glass and knew if you ran your finger along it the cut would heal faster than the blood could drip to the floor. You wanted to go after Crowley, the thought of the shock that would be on his face if you strolled into the throne room and knocked him off of it had kept you sane. The only thing is that you knew if you went after him, meaning to inflict pain (which you and him both knew you were capable of) that he'd get Sam and Dean there and walking into Crowley's throne room meant walking into his wards as well.

You pushed yourself to your feet with a sigh and walked off to the small bed that sat in the corner of the room. It'd taken you months to figure out how to sleep, you didn't need to but you could and at the moment you needed an escape from consciousness.

You weren't sure what had woke you up at first. That was until you felt it, other demons and they were closing in fast on you. They weren't marked as Crowley's either.

You heard a light whimper and went to the window to see Juliette sitting just under it. She'd been trying to warn you. She was a loyal hound, if you ordered her to she'd fight but there were too many. If they weren't Crowley's it was those still loyal to Lucifer that meant they weren't coming to kill you. They'd try to take you which meant they'd be coming after Crowley, possibly Dean and Sam next.

You shook your head at her “Go to Crowley” she growled then, barely a showing of teeth which you knew was her way of arguing. You let your eyes slip to black and put every bit of power you had into your voice when you spoke “I ORDER YOU. GO TO CROWLEY NOW”

She snarled at you but turned to run off through the woods. You watched her go then rotated your neck in a tight circle. If they wanted a fight they damn sure were gonna get one.

Witches, traffic cams, satellite footage. Dean had exhausted ways to try to find you. He was sitting at the table in the kitchen of the bunker, he felt empty. The knowledge of what you'd endured for him, along with the knowledge that you'd thought he'd prefer you dead then how you were. Hell he'd take black eyes to have you back.

Crowley was right, the look in your eyes when you'd said “Dean, it's me” it was you. No matter what had happened to you, how twisted your insides were, the woman he loved was alive and he wasn't going to stop until he found you. Guilt was gnawing at his stomach, the memories of one night stands flashing through his head while you were still out there in the world.

—----------

He shoved his coffee cup away from him a little too hard and it fell to the floor in a shatter of glass and hot liquid. “Shit” he cursed about the time Sam walked into the room.

Sam didn't ask, he just squatted down and started picking up the broken pieces of the cup. “I'll get it Sammy” He spoke as he got to his feet and walked around the table. Sam shook his head “I got it”

“Let me help” Dean pushed and Sam tossed the pieces of the cup down to glare at him before standing to his full height “I said I got it. Dean believe it or not this is fucking with my head too. Yeah you loved her but she was my best friend. It's killing me not being able to find her, to bring her home. We've got the cure but how many years too late? And if she agrees to it can I really do something that could kill her? I'm trying to be there for you, to help you but don't ask me to be idle either please”

Dean nodded slowly, he hadn't thought about Sam in this. You two had always been close, you'd supported him going to Stanford and had helped him through the grief of losing Jess. “I'm sorry man” “It's fine” before either of them could say anything else Dean's phone rang.

Sam watched him as he snatched the phone off the table and nearly growled when he answered it “What the fuck do you want Crowley?” “Lower the warding on your batcave” “What? Why?” “A few Lucifer loyalist managed to get past the idiots that formerly worked for me and they've went after Y/N”

Dean walked into the cabin behind Crowley and stopped in his tracks. It looked like a damn massacre had happened. Blood splattered the walls and two demons laid dead. “How the fuck did they find her?” He asked, taking in the scene before him.

“She warded herself with the help of a coven she found in New Zealand. Protected her from being summoned but it messed with the integrity of my own wards on her” Crowley explained. “You warded her?” Sam asked and Crowley nodded “Angels? Other demons? Same reason Juliette took a liking to her”

Dean felt his blood boiling as he stared at Crowley “If she matters to you so much why not let me know sooner” he had to give it to Crowley he didn't flinch as he said “Because she made me promise not to. She was terrified you'd hate her. I believe her words were better mourned and loved. Now do you want to shove the masculinity down a notch and get her back or what?”

@starkleila @lacilou @suckitands33 @lyarr24 @decadentstrangernacho @nix-rose @irgendwas122 @deans-baby-momma @deans-spinster-witch @tas898

#dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x female!reader #supernatural fanfiction #spn fanfiction #dean winchester fanfiction #dont blame me mini series

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lillybearrie · 1 month

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Guys- guys! I need to talk about this because omfg arararara

Ok so I was watching sherb's most recent hardcore stream, or more accurately got not even a minute in and ran to Tumblr because I have thoughts, and maybe it's because I just binged Icarus's pov post-centross death but the first like 30 seconds or so of the hardcore stream made me realize the difference between someone like hardcore!Sherbert and Icarus.

Icarus is in a deep state of self loathing and needing to grief so so many things so many people they need to process so so much but their own father has convinced them that it's pointless that it's not worth it that they should just focus on other things like helping him in his endeavors and so they don't and instead they bear the weight of this feeling of guilt and dread that they carry it around all day every day and they use it like armor because they don't have much else anymore. They pour all of the doubt they used to have into blind faith in fable's cause because they will not process and they will not grief over the fact that in only the past 4 months they have either indirectly or directly been at fault for 2 of their friends deaths and that their very existence prompted the destruction of so many peoples lives fable caused the resets for them to save their life fable destroyed reality over and over and over until the universe was delt what is likely irreparable damage all for them and honesty we really don't talk enough about the guilt they must carry for that. Icarus wakes up and even if it's been a few weeks is immediately so so tired the weight of everything going on in their life waking up with them waking up with the voices that constantly tell them what they already know the voices the yell and scream that their wrong that their hurting people again that their acting corrupted The voices that never shut up day in and day out. And they stretch because sometimes keeping a routine in times like this is key to keeping sane and yk stretching is just generally a good habit. Their alone except for the emotionally distant basterd of a previously immortal man that dares call himself a father ( we're not gonna talk about how the stuff he instilled in ick when they were little influenced a large part of how the corruption presented itself in them during season 1 because this is not that post but if it was I would have so many words you don't even know) life right now is one big distraction and when it's not they either have a break down or they're chasing the next distraction and you can see that when they wake up because you get 2 kinds of Icarus in the morning angry Icarus who will take it out on quixis or us because they need that emotional release and we're easy targets or planning Icarus who is only thinking about what they need to do today they do mindless chores or talk with co-workers or are figuring out how to complete task fable asks of them.

Hardcore!Sherbert on the other hand is for better or worse alone completely and utterly aside from the things their's not a single actual person in their life. they farm they build they vibe and weird shit happens around them sometimes and they hear voices, they wake up and look forward to the next day even when they've been asleep for months they look in the bright side "not a bad thing tho it's important to get your sleep" they are so... free in comparison with Icarus and you can hear it in the way they talk its lighter you can see it in they way they move it made me realize how little Icarus actually truly smiles nowadays hardcore!sherbert has their fair share of struggles don't get me wrong but at they end of the day they're happy they enjoy life for the most part.

And Sherb does such a good Job acting out this fundamental difference between these two variations of the same guy. I go ababababa it think it's neattt anyway go appreciate Sherbertquake56's phenomenal acting after this long ass post psychoanalizing they way their minecraft characters wake up which is a total sane and normal thing to make a Tumblr post about at 4 am mhm

#i just think they're neat #thank you for coming to my ted talk #i go abababababa #i hold them #i has so many think thoughts #so many #the psychology of Icarus Morningstar consumes my brain #send halp #icarus morningstar #hardcore minecraft #sherbertquake56 #sherbverse

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whomstress · 7 months

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Keeping the Skies Clear

One shot of Ragatha and Jax! @estro-gem Thank you for finally pushing me over the edge with your amazing fics! to finally start writing for my current hyperfixation. (I was the fan anon this is just my side blog)

Anyway, this about year before the pilot. Zooble's the new kid in town and pushes a dumb bunny just trying to do his "job" keeping a close eye over a devastated Ragatha at another lost friend. I would say poke the bear and find out but Zooble's tough as nails, they can handle anything thrown at them.

Ragatha was the nicest and most stable of them. When Zooble first came, Ragatha was the one to calm her down, as she often did for everyone who allowed it. And, despite how many times it happened, she was always so sad when another one of them abstracted. She was here the longest next to Kinger, yet she was still the most sane one here.

Zooble would like to be in the same mood that Ragatha was always in, but they also knew that behind closed doors she was one of them who was struggling the most. She cared too much about other people before herself. She found this out after Zooble saw their first abstraction. They couldn’t sleep that night, so they wandered the circus until they finally decided to head back to their room in the middle of the night, thinking everyone was asleep by now.

Only when they crossed by Ragatha’s room and heard muffled, sorrowful sobs dulled by a pillow did they figure out the truth. Zooble was never the first person to comfort someone; in fact, they hated being a shoulder to lean on, considering Ragatha had been by their side since they first got there. They felt a kind of guilt for not returning the favor.

As they were about to knock on the door, a gloved hand caught theirs. They nearly jumped in shock, only to realize it was Jax, and the shock was replaced with a glare. “What the-” They said before he gave a hushed “Shut it!” He pointed to the door with his thumb, obviously telling them to be quiet, or Ragatha would hear.

Zooble once again looked at him in shock before he grabbed them by the elbow away from the door a little before Zooble yanked away. “What the @#!$ Jax?” Zooble said, annoyed, but still made sure to keep their voice to a lower volume. His smile seemed to widen at their annoyance.

Even after two months, they still didn’t really care to get to know anyone beyond surface-level things, except Ragatha, who did her best to keep the unwilling newcomer company. Jax was only what they saw on the outside. A mythic A-hole.

So without beating around the bush, they cut to the chase and asked, “Why do you even care?”

His face drops for a nanosecond before he switches back to his regular yellow grin, looking bored at where his finger nails would be. “I actually don’t, for your information.”

Zooble scoffed, rolling their eyes. "It doesn't seem like it. You’re the one stalking her door in the middle of the night to stop anyone from seeing if she’s okay, Jeez. I knew you were a sadist prick picking on the only person who no doubt deserves to be here all the time, but I didn’t think you actually hated her.”

A loud thump on the floor snapped their vision back to the rabbit man. His slightly tinted purple face suddenly filled with a darker purple angry flush, and the rabbit ears that shot up past his hair pulled back. His smile finally turned downward as they glowered over Zooble. “You’ve been here, what? A month, and you think you know me? Get real, @#$%@.” He pointed a gloved hand in their faces.

Despite the slight surprise of seeing him for the first time, seeing him actually pissed off Zooble’s face remained in a glare that matched his slapping his hand out of their face. “You have all of two seconds to get out of my face, or you’ll wish you were the one to go today. Maybe everyone else puts up with your #&^$ but not me %#&*!^.”

He scoffs and backs off, making his face go back into a neutral expression. “*@ off, the only reason I’m not making your life more of a hell than this place is so you don’t wake up. Raggedy dumb@$%.”

Wake up? Zooble only just noticed the sobbing had stopped, replaced with an oddly louder snore. “She’s been crying for like two hours; she thought she’d never stop.” He said it once again, looking bored, but as he listened to her snore a bit more, they could see he was visibly almost completely back to his normal relaxed and annoying nature.

“Why?” They asked.

They knew Jax didn’t need a clarifier but asked, playing dumb anyway. “Why what, Crabby?”

Zooble once again cut straight through his bullshit, “Why do you care? Really.”

He scoffed and placed his hands in his dumb, cartoonish overall pockets. “I told you I don’t.” He looked at Zooble's deadpan face and knew they wouldn’t drop it until they got an answer. He almost told her to buzz off again before they threatened to ask the whole circus if he wasn’t going to give them an answer. “Freaking nark”.

“Fine.” He rolled his eyes until they went almost to the back of his head. “If I tell you, you can’t say jack. If Rags finds out, this will all be for nothing, got it?” Zooble stayed silent but nodded.

“When she gets this way, if anyone says a word to her, she’ll get even more depressed for, like, a week.”

“Why?”

“Some dumb need to never ‘upset’ anyone. The one thing she hates more than anything is thinking she hurt someone. Which is dumb as hell. I get she has this bleeding heart or whatever, but the woman needs to seriously bite the bullet and be an @#$hole one of these days.”

He continued after a moment of silence, “When she’s all depressed, everything and everyone feels like shit. I hate to admit it, but she kind of makes this place bearable for everyone. like the sun through the clouds or whatever that dumb poet said. Anyway, this place gets dark as shit at that point. And doing funny things to people when they have a reaction of a brick wall is boring as hell. Messing with people is the only thing that keeps me from going insane in this place. That’s why.”

Zooble stays quiet for a moment, like they're processing everything he said before they nod, brushing their pink hair out of their face. “Makes sense. Kinda.”

He rolls his eyes again, not caring whether they approve of his reasons or not. Until they broke the silence again, “Like the sun through the clouds, huh?”

His head snaps to theirs, and they let out an amused exhale through their nose before speaking again before he can retort. “Don’t worry, Romeo; the secret's safe with me.” They laughed as they walked away.

He actually almost strangled them at that moment, but was interrupted by a particularly loud, pig-like snort/snore from across the hall, and he rolled his eyes, smirking a bit. Before catching himself and pitching the bridge between his nose trying to stop the oncoming headache. Whatever she’s asleep, she’ll be back to her cheery facade in the morning. He’d done his personal job of keeping the sanity in this place level.

His personal job of keeping the sun out of the clouds.

#jax tadc #the amazing digital circus jax #tadc ragatha #the amazing digital circus ragatha #tadc #tadc zooble #the amazing digital circus #jax x ragatha #ragatha x jax #jagatha #bunnydoll #mia writes

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parkswritessometimes · 1 month

Text

Sunday X Marvin

It’s been almost twelve hours without a text from Marvin. Usually, he’d respond within minutes of a message. A little emoji or acknowledgment that he was alive. But nothing. No response from the good morning text he sent when he woke up. Usually, Marvin was the one who woke up early and Sunday would wake up to a cute morning image of Higgins or a bedheaded, shirtless Marvin, but no message today.

“You good, Kit-Kat?” Sunday types hitting send before his anxieties get the better of him. Marv was probably just too engrossed in a book to even acknowledge their phone. It’s happened before on a handful of occasions, but they always replied within a few hours with an apology or an excuse or something.

But Sunday can’t stop this gut feeling that something was wrong. That something was wrong. He’s been getting that feeling a lot lately. Especially since the twins rose to power in the magic circle. This twisting feeling in his soul, in his magic. But this was so specific to Marvin like a magnetic force pulling him towards his friend.

And it’s not like Marvin was going to ask for help if he needed it. Marvin has always been far too prideful for that. Raised by absent parents and a semi-sane mentor who could never be understood by anyone but Marvin, he was always destined to be an aloof person. It probably didn’t help that they were bullied for several years before Sunday came into the picture.

Sunday was also an outsider always working twice as hard to keep up with the advanced classes he was put in. Magic always seemed to come so easy for everyone else. He’s lucky that he made the cut for the Magic Circle. It would have been so easy to cast him aside and label him a dud, but he was given a single chance. Same with Marvin.

It took a lot of time for Marvin to open up. Lots of shared candy bars, healing magic, repairing uniforms with his more practical sewing skills before Marvin even told Sunday his name. But over time Sunday could feel Marvin slowly opening up. Ivy creeping up his ivory walls until it flooded his heart.

Now they’re 28 and living life, Marvin had a bookstore that never seemed to be open and Sunday worked for the Magic Circle, always one of the first people to be in the loop. And as much as it annoyed the higher-ups, Marvin was always the first one to know what was going on. It was a good thing the two of them had going on.

Late-night phone calls that only ended when one of them fell asleep, cute photos, and inside jokes. Nicknames and practice kisses. And yeah their heart always skipped a beat or two or just flat-out stop when Marvin would lay their head in their lap, or hold his hand. But it was fine. Marvin was always skipping from person to person, never sticking with one partner for more than six months. Bar hookups, tinder profile pictures, bumble notifications, that always broke his heart just a little bit. But what was he going to do? Marvin was having fun and Sunday didn’t want to ruin their fun.

Maybe that’s where Marvin was, on a date or he slept over at a guy’s house and forgot a charger. But still, that didn't feel right.

Sunday looks back down at their phone. No notification. Okay, time for a wellness check.

“I’m coming over if you don’t text me in the next three seconds.”

“3”

“2”

“1”

“On my way. I’ll bring sushi as a peace offering.”

Sunday grabs their favorite green cloak throwing it over their shoulder and goes out into London’s warm Summer night.

—---

Sunday knocks on the door, okay more like pounds, trying to get Marvin’s attention. He wedges his cell phone between his ear and shoulder and listens to the ring over and over again before getting the standard “leave a message”.

“Vin, Kit-Kat, it’s me. Open up. I bring gifts and if you don’t open up I’m gonna portal up to your apartment. So do us both a favor and let me in!” He kicks the door a few more times to send a message before hanging up and shoving his phone into his pocket. Sunday looks up at the flat, the lights are on which is a good sign at the very least. He sighs yanking his bear charm free from his neck letting his mask form on his face. Magic wasn’t exactly allowed in public without a permit but he’s technically on Marvin’s property. He won’t get nicked for that. Hopefully. The portal revealing Marvin’s room appears and he steps through closing the portal behind him.

Higgin’s little merp and rub against his thighs settle some of his nerves but the main problem still remains. His mask swirls back into the necklace on his chest and the golden magic fades from his fingertips as his he pets Marvin’s little familiar.

“Hey, Higgy. Where’s Marvin? You gonna lead me to him?”

Higgins jumps up on the bed ignoring Sunday’s request. Typical little cat. Sunday pushes the door open wandering out into Marvin’s kitchen and living room. Notes, pictures, and drawings line the walls looking like the workings of a madman. And in the middle of it all Marvin, still in his pajamas, pacing around the room.

“Uh, Marv? You there mate?” Sunday asks, but Marvin keeps pacing and muttering to himself. Sunday sets the dinner down on the countertop and walks over the scattered pages of Marvin’s writing. Slowly, carefully with each step Sunday moves forward trying not to mess up any of Marvin’s work. Their hand finally finds their way to Marvin’s shoulder and in an instant, Marvin’s mask is on and lighting in his hands.

“Woah! Hey! Hey! Marvin! It’s me! It’s me.” Sunday says throwing their hands up.

“Sunday. Sunday…Sunny.” Marvin says, almost as if he’s in a trance.

“Yeah, Kit-Kat. It’s me. It’s Sunny.”

“What are you doing here? How did you get in?”

“I used a portal and you weren’t answering your phone. I got worried.”

The fogginess in Marvin’s eyes clear and they flash into so many emotions going from fear to sadness to anger all within seconds.

"I don't need your help, Sunday." Marvin’s green eyes drill into Sundays. And for anyone else, this would probably strike fear into their souls. But not Sunday. Sunday knows that look. It’s not true anger, if it was he’d be on fire. It’s that pride getting in his way. The fear that if he opens up he’ll be left alone on the porch begging for someone, anyone to stay. He has to push everyone so far away that his heart will never bleed like that again.

"Yeah, I know, kit-kat. You don’t need anyone’s help." Sunday whispers in a soothing tone taking a step forward. Marvin may growl and snarl like a feral cat from time to time but Sunday knows him better than anyone, including Marvin himself. He was just tired and clearly scared of something going on. Whatever he found must have truly shaken him to the core.

“Don’t say it in that fucking tone Sunday. Why the fuck are you even here? Did the twins send you? Because you can tell them-"

"I came because I was worried. So can you just sit down for five minutes and let me bring you the dinner I bought before Higgins eats it?” Sunday’s golden glow wraps around their fingertips and rests against Marvin’s face. Their thumb go up and down their beard as they try to soothe Marvin.

“Sunny…”

“It’s sushi, and I know you have some good wine. Let me get us some glasses and you can tell me what's going on.”

“Probably skip the wine.”

“Vinny, did you not eat this morning?”

“I think so? I can’t remember.”

“Okay, let's sit down.” Sunday grabs his friend’s hand and guides him down to the couch. Marvin’s head instantly rests against Sunday’s chest and Sunday finds his hand in his friend's long brown hair. “Do you want to talk first or eat?”

“What did you bring?”

“Sushi.”

“I want to eat first.”

“Okay, kit-kat. Let me grab the food.” Marvin squeezes him closer, refusing to let him get up from his spot. Sunday sighs knowing that he isn’t going anywhere. He opens a small portal allowing the food to fall through and onto the coffee table in front of them.

“I got California rolls, rainbow rolls, and some salmon nigiri.”

“You spoil me, Sunny.”

“I know.” Sunday begins to unpack all the takeout from the plastic bag laying it all out on the table. He hands Marvin a pair of chopsticks and lets him dig in. With Marvin off of him, he gets up and goes back to the kitchen. He grabs a glass from his friend’s cabinet and fills it to the brim with cold water.

“You want me to grab Higgins?”

“No, that’s okay. He’d just get lost in the papers anyway.”

“Yeah, I was gonna ask you about that.”

“It’s all my notes, I’m trying to decipher some of them.”

“Why? Aren’t they your notes?”

“Yes, but I can’t remember writing some of them.”

“Well, you’ve written so many it doesn’t surprise me you’ve forgotten some of them.” Sunday sets the cold glass in front of Marvin and nudges him towards it.

“No that’s not the issue, the issue was they were wiped from my memory.”

Sunday shakes his head and jolts back in surprise. Ras has been wiping Marvin’s memories? Thats-why would he do that? He practically raised Marvin. The Magic Circle has always said that he was dangerous and an outsider. Breaking the rules of magic and not conforming to the laws set in place to keep the world safe, but mental magic? On Marvin? That’s almost too much to bear. No wonder Marvin got so angry. His trust must be shattered on the floor in a million pieces.

“Ras has been using mental magic on you?! We gotta report this! You can stay at my house until the council has him imprisoned.”

“What no! Sunday! Ras hasn’t been tampering with my memories. The Circle has been.”

The Circle? No. They were a bit…shifty but what governmental organization isn’t?! Members of parliament and even the prime minister took bribes and did some shady stuff and they were in charge of the country! Don’t even get him started on the mess that was America's government system. But there's no way that The Magic Circle was doing something like that to its members. To Marvin. To Him.

“Marvin, I think-”

Marvin yanks off his necklace and lets his cat mask form in his hand. The green ethereal glow signaled that some enchantment had been left on it.

“I have it recorded. The twins, they took so much away from us, Sunny. Just look.”

Sunday takes the mask and places it on his face. Green-tinted visions of the past come before his eyes. That’s him in the corner, looking over at Marvin, but he definitely doesn’t remember this. A dead body on a slab with the twins matching fox masks firmly on their faces. Their muffled voices told them to leave the room and like the good peons they were, they left.

“We’ve reached the limits of what direct observation can show us.”

“Even magical observation is insufficient.”

“Necromancy then.”

The twins cast a spell causing the body to rise up. Sunday’s never seen anything like it. He’s always been told something like this was illegal except in the hands of the authorities. People with permits and power. He couldn’t even pay attention to the answers the body was giving, too shocked by the twin's actions to do anything.

The body collapses back on the table and Sunday almost does as well. But just when he thought the worst was over.

“We might use Mind’s Eye.” One of them says. Mind’s Eye was one of the most dangerous spells that could be cast on such a body. The Malia it takes could easily drain that of the corpses and the users, leaving everyone involved just dust on the floor.

“The risk would be enormous.”

“To lesser magicians than we.”

“Very well we do need answers.”

“There remains malia sufficient in the husk to achieve it once.”

The twins touch their fingers to the corpse's skull letting the purple mist swirl around the room chaotically. Sunday can’t make out the images but he knows in his soul it’s bad. The body screams out like it’s dying again before crumbling to ash.

The twins put their masks back on allowing everyone to rejoin them. Sunday and Marvin are the first to come in but still, Sunday can not remember even being in this room.

Sunday is all but helpless to watch as Marvin picks up his mask as the twins talk.

“We learned much from this vessel, but little of substance.”

“The circumstances of its death were byzantine and inconsequential.”

“A matter of science. Nothing with which to trouble ourselves. Whatever happened to this man does not concern the magic circles. We needn’t investigate further.”

“You needn’t even remember what transpired here.”

The twins chat to cast a spell and just like that the memory is gone. The recording stops and Sunday takes the mask off of his face.

They took their memories.

They took his memories.

They took Marvin’s memories.

Over a man who died to science?! Over something so simple and inconsequential?! What did they erase that was important?! Did they erase a full days months or even years from his head?! How could they do something like that?!

“Marv, what the hell are we going to do? Can we get those memories back?! I can’t- What else did they take from us?!” Could they take larger pieces? Could they take whole people out of the memory? Could they take relationships? When was the limit where they couldn’t touch the memories?!

“I don’t know. I have regained a few memories they took but that’s only because Ras drilled it in me to record my notes and journal my days. I’m trying to fill the gaps but I think most of them are gone.”

“Shit Marv. What are we going to do?”

“I honestly don’t know. Start recording with our masks? Compare notes?”

“That’s a start I suppose.”

Marvin takes his spot back in Sunday’s chest and Sunday holds him tight. But it doesn’t stop the intense flood of anxiety coursing through his body. Pumped by the growing beat of his heart.

Forgetting Marvin would be like forgetting his own name, his own being. They were so intertwined there was no way they could make them forget each other. Right? They surely couldn’t rip each other away. They would have done that years ago with Marvin and Ras. The twins never kept it a secret that they hated the man and constantly pushed Marvin to ditch his mentor. But Marvin was too stubborn, too loyal to even consider that an option.

He looks back down at his friend only to find him asleep, all curled up in their lap. Sunday smiles and traces over Marvin’s tattoos with their finger.

“No one will take me from you Marvin. I promise. No matter what.” They plant a little kiss on Marvin’s forehead and shuffle to a more comfortable position on the couch. No use in fighting it, he was gonna spend the night on the couch with Marvin. Not the first time this has happened and certainly not the last. He leans over and grabs a blanket from off the floor and drapes it over the two of them.

Sunday wasn’t quite ready to fall asleep, still processing the huge mind fuck that the Magic Circle was doing this. And Marvin’s notes and research were within arms reach; he might as well catch up on what Marvin found. His fingertips find a large leather-bound book and pull it closer. Colorful tabs dot the pages probably signifying different spells he needed.

Sunday opens it up to the first tab to find Marvin’s handwriting. No mention of spells or anything. Sunday immediately closes it and sets it down on Marvin’s back. Not today. There has to be something else he can read to get caught up on all this a spell book or something. But all of the notes around him seem to be in Marvin’s messy cursive writing.

And then something catches his eye. One of the tabs on Marvin's journal had a little sun and a heart. He rarely lets curiosity get the best of him, that was more Marvin’s department, but he has to know what the little doodle of his nickname was doing there. He opens the book back up and begins to read the tabbed page.

I’m gonna do it. I’m gonna ask Sunny out after this meeting. I know we’re already kinda going out but I’m gonna make it official with him today. I’m in love with him and I’m sure he’s in love with me. Just gotta finish this meeting. I’m pretending to take notes but it's so dreadfully boring. I swear the twins are the stiffest people you’ll ever meet in your lifetime.

Sunday doesn’t even realize he’s crying until the tear hits the page and smudges the ink. Did they take away that moment? Did they even allow them to have it? It’s not like Sunday could remember it. But he can just imagine it. Marvin just blurts out their feelings and he just goes red with embarrassment as Marvin uses sweet words until they kiss.

And Magic Circle just took it away like it was nothing.

Did Marvin know? He had to, he marked it after all. But…fuck. Did they take more moments like that away from them? How many times did they confess only to have the Magic Circle have it erased?

Sunday wipes the tears away and takes another deep breath. He looks back down at Marvin and traces his finger across his jaw. He looks so peaceful right now. And as much as he wants to wake him up and tell him that he’s right, that he’s in love with him, that he wants to spend the rest of their lives together. It can wait. One big revelation at a time.

Sunday gives him one more kiss on the head and pulls the blanket up to Marvin’s shoulders. Both of them are gonna need sleep if they’re gonna figure out how to save their memories from future tampering.

“Goodnight Marvin. I love you.”

-----

I don't usually write shippy stuff but here y'all go!

----

Tag List:

@kalcifers-blog

@the3rddenialist

#jacksepticeye #writers of jack #writersofjack #marvin the magnificent #altrverse

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marvelous-llama · 8 months

Text

BTS recs

<<original book

most of the mentioned works is 18+ NSFW, MINORS DNI

pls don´t hesitate to hmu, if any of mentioned links doesn´t work or you have suggestions for more fics... thank you so much for all the love and comments

one shots

The Stranger (AO3) by @btssmutgalore (deactivated )

Seokjin x fem!reader (wc - 26.7k) strangers to lovers - angst, fluff, smut When your plane hits turbulence, you start panicking and tell some of your biggest secrets to the attractive stranger sitting next to you.

Perfect by @btssmutgalore (deactivated - AO3 works)

Seokjin x fem!reader (wc - 12.4k) roommates to lovers - angst, fluff, smut Your roommate seems to have it all - great grades, amazing friends, good job, beautiful girlfriend. However, after a bad breakup and a long recovery, you realize there’s one thing he’s missing.

Knocked by @sailoryooons

Seokjin x fem!reader (wc - 10.7k) roommates to lovers - smut, humour Living with people is difficult, but all things considered, your new roommate isn’t terrible. He cooks, he cleans, and if you had to be honest - incredibly attractive. But his habit of streaming until the early hours of the morning while yelling and making other questionable noises has pushed you to the limit. You’ve finally decided to risk your sanity and put it all on the line with a reckless bet in hopes of getting some peace and quiet at night.

warm this winter by @jamaisjoons

Seokjin x fem!reader (wc - 51.6k) vacation AU, ons to lovers, exboyfriend Jungkook - angst, fluff, smut spending the winter vacation with an ex-boyfriend and his new girlfriend was not something anyone would ever consider doing. spending the winter vacation with both an ex-boyfriend, his new girlfriend, and the one night stand you’d used to try to get over him, well that was a whole other situation that anyone sane would have fled from. and yet, here you are. caught between your best friend (and consequently your ex-boyfriend), and the very same man who you’d fallen into bed with after a night of wallowing in self pity. all while stuck in the picturesquely beautiful - and cruelly romantic - austrian alps. well. at least you can say you had an interesting christmas.

meet me at the bar by @eoieopda

Seokjin x fem!reader (wc - 7.5k) best friends to lovers, law school AU - fluff, smut You're supposed to be staring down the barrel of the last — and most important — examination of your life, but you only have eyes for your study buddy.

caught in waves by @aseaofyoongi

Seokjin x fem!reader (wc - 13.1k) strangers to lovers, chef!reader - fluff, smut after graduating culinary school you are fired from your very first job as a sous chef — so you move to a small town for the summer only to meet the very cute nephew of the restaurant and airbnb owner.

series

Amalthea by @daechwitatamic

Seokjin x fem!reader (wc - 40k)best friend´s brother trope- angst, smut, fluffYou can count on two things in life. One: that your lifelong best friend Minji will always be there for you, in your corner, your brightest star. Two: that you'll never be free from her older brother Seokjin's orbit - the gravitational pull is just too strong.

To Kill a King by @foxymoxynoona

Seokjin x fem!reader fantasy, historical, enemies to lovers - angst, smut What's more charming than Prince Seokjin? Nothing, obviously. Except maybe the rotating palace guests who each smile and bow and charm in an attempt to hide their true motives. Fortunately Seokjin has a close circle of friends (well, servants) who watch his back and endure his humor and help him navigate the tumultuous seas of heartbreak, love, and an arranged marriage, not necessarily in that order. If only they had helped him keep a closer eye on his bride-to-be's handmaiden, who arrives with her own agenda... or maybe it would have been better if he had noticed her less? One thing is certain as this royal drama of the heart plays out: there are many people competing to kill a king.

9 months to fall in love by @floralseokjin

Seokjin x fem!reader strangers to lovers, slowburn, dual PoV, pregnancy trope - angst, smut,fluff, romance It seems like everyone around you is either already in love, or in the process of falling, and while normally you couldn’t give a damn, finding out the co-worker you’ve had a teensy crush on is dating someone else at the office seems to sucker punch you right in the gut. It’s stupid, and you’re irritated at yourself, but you can’t seem to shake out of the funk you’ve fallen face first in.Feeling lonely and heartsore, and mad for no reason, during drinks with your best friend you spot a man at the bar. Tequila confident, you make your way over to the stranger, and successfully one thing leads to another. The next morning you leave before he’s woken up, feeling satisfied in one way, but still as discontented as ever. Telling yourself it was an inebriated mistake, you quickly try to forget about it.Only, three weeks later that night comes back to haunt you – in a very unescapable way…

#bts #bts x reader #bts recs #jin #kim seokjin #seokjin #jin x reader #seokjin x reader #kim seokjin x reader

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cassiopeiasdaughter · 3 months

Text

labyrinth

Theodore Nott x fem!reader

part of the midnights collection

February 22nd 1999

Dear Diary,

Everything is fucked.

Notice how I only write when somethings terribly wrong? Well, try not to be too surprised with this entry.

Up until a few days ago everything seemed to go fine- well as fine as it could, given everything going on.

We’ve been making progress, rescuing muggles and muggleborns, shutting down attacks, even the horcrux hunt seemed to be going well, it felt like we had reached the beginning of the end.

But we were so fucking wrong.

There was an attack last week, well two of them. One was a distraction and the other one…well two safe houses were compromised, most of the order members got out on time, but two died. A Hufflepuff and a Ravenclaw, a year older than me. I never talked to them at school, but I knew them, I remember seeing them during breakfast and at hallways. And now…

I kept thinking how it could have been me, and I hate myself for being this selfish, for not being the bigger picture. It’s survival instinct, I know, but I wish I could overcome it, ever since the war started I keep finding myself, wishing I was someone I’m not.

The only thing worse than dying in an attack, like that, would be, being the only one left. What if I survive and everyone I love dies, what’s the point of winning this- if there is nothing left, after. If the world ends up destroyed beyond repair, why keep fighting? For Harry, who claims the Light- Good will win?

Harry who could be a Horcrux? Yes, I know. Its unthinkable but Hermione and Moody think it’s true, it could be a possibility we shouldn’t ignore. It could explain so much that, almost everything that has happened all the years. His ability to speak with snakes, the nightmares, the visions. They could be tied to that. And if it is true, what then?

I had

I slept with Theo on New Years, I… don’t know how to feel about it. It feels stupid even writing about it with the direction our world has taken.

It was weird at first, the next day, things felt different. It felt as if…the safety I feel when he is in my room, when we sleep next to eachother at night, it felt like that safety had spread everywhere, like it followed me around the next day.

I thought I would feel self-conscious around him, but I don’t, it feels as if he is the only thing left that makes sense. Maybe, it our way to cope, getting drunk isn’t practical and getting high…well I can’t do that everyday. Maybe having sex is our way to get through this war, sane?

Although, it doesn’t feel like it’s that simple to me, it’s not just a coping mechanism, for me at least. But I won’t get into that, it’s selfish and wrong to think about that when there are bigger problems out there, tearing my sleeve as they beg for my attention.

Hermione has been doing a lot of research into Horxcruxes, Malfoy helps her a lot, he tells her everything he’d heard that summer- before 6th year. He, told Moody about his aunts vault, at Gringotts, how she had it checked every month, she was paranoid about it, that’s what he said. They think there is something important there. Bellatrix and her family, they have been nothing but loyal to Voldemort, all these years, it would make sense for her to be trusted with something as important as this.

The Order, planned a mission tonight, a run-in at Gringotts, to at least inspect the vault, or find a way inside, and if they are lucky, find the Horxcrux.

They

You stare at the page in front of you, you can’t bare to continue writing, because what you are about to write, is the thing that’s been eating you alive all afternoon. You can’t explain how Theo was sent on this mission, how he could be recognized and then-

You don’t want to think about what could happen next, not if you want your breathing to remain even and your stomach settled. Instead, you charm your diary and conceal everything you’ve written, from the outside world, and then head downstairs, wait with the rest of the house.

“Any news?” You ask worried

“No, not even a Patronus.” Hermione shrugs and hands you a cup of tea

You grip the hot mug with both hands, savoring the warmth in your skin, taking in the smell and focusing on the feeling it wakes inside of your chest. Ginger, lemon and honey.

It reminds you of your childhood and the drinks your mother made you every time you got sick. Then, your family and summers with them, flash before your eyes. You would always miss Hogwarts in the summertime, all your friends would be either at the Burrow or at their homes, far away from your summer house. You’d complain about how isolated you felt then. It is almost ridiculous to think now. You would give anything for one more summer, taking walks at the beach- savoring the orange sky and the way it kissed the sea, how the color got lost in the water and danced on the waves. And then, as you think of the waves- you imagine the house Theo had told you about, that night. And how you would go there, once the war is over. And perhaps, this is the first time you’ve felt nostalgic about a place you’ve never visited before.

You’ve clung to the hope of an after so hard, that this house- the one by the sea, with the perfect library and velvet loveseats, almost feels like home. You’ve painted a new picture of safety in your brain and the walls and colors of the house fit the drawing perfectly.

Then again, maybe, it isn’t the house that plants this hope inside you, but it’s the person that would join you. The one who would fill the house with laughter and stories, the one whose smell would float through each room and the one who’d make it a home.

But that person isn’t here, and the frailty of his return shatters you.

“They’ll come back. Moody is with them. They’ll be fine”

Your friend offers knowingly. As if your fears have spilled out of you and have turned into a cloud around the two of you, turning everything darker and colder.

You can only nod in response and ask about her progress and the boys, in hopes that her words will distract you.

“You went flying yesterday.” She says with a smile “I haven’t seen you fly, since… Hogwarts.” Since Dumbledore died

“You’ve seen me fly on missions.”

“Yeah but that’s different, you looked free yesterday- it took me back to quidditch practice. Remember how I’d watch you three practice?”

“Yeah; I remember you had a different book every single time. Ron always joked about that”

“I miss it” she says tear-eyed “And I miss the boys and-and” my parents you think to yourself and grab her hand tightly- anchoring her to you.

“I am so tired.” She finishes; and it hits you then how much this war has changed her. From the color of her face- to the spark in her eyes, everything now seems washed out.

Voldemort and his followers have taken pieces of her, of Theo, Ron, Harry, one at a time, stealing memories and feelings, taking away their safety and friends, leaving behind nearly empty shells; that fight- fight back and desperately try to reverse everything. And you can’t help but think of why they-why you keep fighting back. You can’t possibly undo everything that’s has been done so far. You can’t bring people back to life, you can’t reverse stolen memories or forget new ones. You can’t chase away the demons that will hunt you at night. With or without Voldemort in this world, you struggle to decide if it is worth saving in the end.

Defeat one evil just for the next one to appear? To bring more nightmares and fights? More death?

At last, it may be that you keep fighting- because if you stop now, after everything that’s happened, everything you’ve had to face, and do, ultimately it will all have been for nothing. And that; is a fate worse than Voldemort winning, worse than death.

“I know you are.” You reply and open your arms for her to hide in. Hide and then let everything out- every disappointment and regret. Cry and hide from the world just for a few minutes, because that’s the only thing you or anyone can give her, right now.

They haven’t returned yet.

You finish writing a few hours later, with the weight of the night sky settling on your shoulders; the constant thought of “they should have come back by now.”, sitting at the pit of your stomach.

You notice a few of Theo’s things around the room, a sweater on your chair, a couple of books on the floor by his side of the bed. You realize then, the pattern you two have fallen into, a life inside the one you already live in. Intimacy; the kind that scared you once, is now your only shelter: your refuge from reality. It’s because of that newfound intimacy, that your room now feels lived in, and isn’t a gray space for you to sleep in. Its because of another person, that you feel protection at night and warmth despite the blistering cold.

The chance of never feeling his warmth again- paralyzes you. And it shouldn’t, because the chance of him not making it back tonight- or after a mission- the possibility of him dying, is a reality you must come to terms with, if you want to keep fighting this war sane And you almost laugh at the irony of that thought

And it is a cliche, its something you’d normally condemn stupid and immature- but there is nothing normal about this, so you must act accordingly.

I shouldn’t have gotten this close you begin writing but you hear voices all of a sudden and the familiar creak of the floor outside your room.

The door opens and its him, no blood, no limping- a darkens under his eyes- sharper than the one you’ve seen before.

“Hi.” He whispers and his eyebrows soften almost instantly.

You shouldn’t have gotten this close you remember, but you can’t control your legs as they move towards him- and you can’t help the way your body molds to his.

“You’re back.” You breathe in his scent as you bury your face in his chest, your hands gripping his jacket tightly- keeping him as close as you can.

He doesn’t say anything back, he just lowers his head to your hear- breathing you in in return.

You’ll stay like that for a few seconds, before you ask how the mission went, if everyones alright… You’ll stay frozen for a little while, before you have to force yourself to stay away from him, before you reprogram your brain to learn to cope without the comfort of his touch, or the whispered words he speaks into your hair at night.

I have to get away, remind yourself as you kiss him goodnight.

I need to get away, you think again, as you watch him fast asleep in your bed.

How will I get away? you ask hopeless as you hear the beat of his heart and let his arms trap you.

a/n: am I happy with this chapter? no. Was it necessary for me to finish it so this story could get moving? yes

taglist: @avalynlestrange @spacecadet16 @lucywritess @aleviia @marina468 @annaisabookworm @liarajoah @notasadgirlipromise @pariseffer @unlikelysadgirl @ktz-bb @lizisthecoolest

btw free Palestine!

#theodore nott #theodore nott x reader #theodore nott imagine #theo nott #theo nott x reader #hogwarts #theodore nott angst #theodore nott fic

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verfound · 1 month

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FICLET: Plans (MLB, Lukanette)

Characters/Pairings: Luka Couffaine, Marinette Dupain-Cheng; Luka Couffaine/Marinette Dupain-Cheng

Rating: General Audiences

Summary: Marinette gets sick and has to miss Luka’s show.

Author’s Notes/Warnings: …I’m supposed to be in DC tonight for a concert, but covid said no, so I’m moping.

Read on Ao3

“Plans”

Glassy blue eyes stared out at him from the blanket cocoon. Not even the distance and crappy wifi could cover that up, but he wasn’t sure if it was the illness or the tears she was barely suppressing. He wasn’t sure he wanted to know.

“There will be other shows, darning,” he said, brushing his thumb across the screen like it was her forehead.

“…shut up,” she mumbled.

“You know it’s for the best,” he said. Like something as silly as logic would make up for the fact that she was too sick to travel today.

“Luka,” she whined, dropping her face against the bed and pulling the blanket closer.

He settled back against the bench with a sigh, dropping his head against the cool glass window behind him as he let her cry it out. He hated it, too. He wanted to be there with her – he should be there with her. Making her crappy canned soup and holding her hair back while she threw up and clapping her back when she got too congested. You know, the sick stuff you did when your better half was too ill to be much more than a bed burrito.

…but he’d been travelling for about a month now. Working on the new album. Prepping for the next tour. Bouncing between studios to collaborate with old friends. He had a few shows lined up over the next two weeks, and then he’d be home for about a month before the summer tour started.

She’d been busy, too. With a few needy high-demand clients and a charity event that all meant she hadn’t been able to travel much with him. He was only two hours away tonight, but she had diligently been keeping that night clear on her calendar so she could meet up with him. Grab some dinner before the show. Grab some time after before the bus had to roll out the next day.

They’d both been looking forward to it. It was the only thing that had kept him sane at some points over the past month.

…but she’d been pushing herself too hard. Like she always did. And Jocelyn’s allergies had been acting up, until Jocelyn had texted her about five days back saying it wasn’t allergies. And then Marinette’s cold wasn’t just a cold, and she was fine. She honestly was. They’d been lucky.

…but it still wasn’t safe for her to travel. She didn’t want to risk getting others sick, but more than that she wasn’t strong enough yet. He wouldn’t let her. As much as he wanted to see her, he didn’t want her to stress herself making the trip just to relapse.

“I’ll see you in two weeks,” he said, rubbing the screen again. “It’ll go by in a flash. And you’ll be feeling worlds better, and I can play you whatever you want –”

“You know it’s not the concert I’m upset about,” she moaned, raising her head to glare at him. “I miss you, you idiot.”

It would have been more effective if she hadn’t started coughing in the middle of it.

“It’s a little bit the concert,” he teased, smiling softly. Hoping to make her smile. It wavered when she just glared balefully at him. “Admit it: you needed the night out.”

“What I needed was a night in,” she whined. She looked away as she started coughing again, and when she turned back the blanket was bunched up so only her weary eyes were visible. “With my husband. The past week in doesn’t count.”

“I know, darning,” he said. “I need a night in, too. But I need you to be safe more.”

“I was safe,” she grumped. “Stupid Joce and her stupid not-allergies.”

“You love her, too,” he said. She hummed, and he knew she didn’t mean it. Besides, Jocelyn was already beating herself up enough over this. “You look ready to drop, Mari. Go back to bed for me?”

“I am in bed,” she mumbled.

“Sleep,” he insisted. “I’ll check in before the show. And after. No encores tonight, I promise.”

“I love your encores,” she sighed. She giggled, and it would have made him feel better if it hadn’t turned into another coughing fit. “Remember…remember Jay’s face when you did My Marinette Is My Only Family?”

He did. His dad hadn’t been able to finish the song, he’d been laughing so hard.

Good times.

“I’ll save them for when I’m home, then,” he chuckled. He brought his phone up to his mouth and kissed the camera. “Please, darning. Take care of yourself.”

“I hate this,” she whined. He swallowed.

“Me, too,” he said. Her hand slipped, until she was barely in the screen and most of what he was seeing was their ceiling.

“Play my song for me?” she asked. He nodded, though he wasn’t sure she saw it.

“Every night,” he said, chuckling. He’d been touring long enough that she knew it was his closing number in every set. “Get some rest. I’ll be home before you know it.”

It was for the best. They both knew that.

It didn’t make it hurt any less when he took the stage that night and she wasn’t waiting for him in the wings.

#miraculous ladybug #luka couffaine #marinette dupain-cheng #lukanette #endgame lukanette #lukanette endgame #ml fic #ver fic #therapy fic #ver's moping #mope with me #established relationship #marinette is sick #luka's on the road #i got insurance on my tickets just in case #but submitting that claim hurt so much #don't mind me crying over maps and pigeons

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lostinlewis · 1 year

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Old Flame ~ Part Two

Rating: M

Words: 3442

Character: Lewis Hamilton x F!Reader

Description: You learnt so much from your first love but the most important lesson he taught you was how to deal with heartbreak, even if it takes you six years. You were almost there, you almost made it days at a time without thinking about him…that was until he turned up in the most unexpected of places.

Seven hundred and thirty hours, it had been seven hundred and thirty hours, one whole month to be more precise, since your encounter with Lewis, and you were pretty sure you had spent at least seven hundred of those hours thinking about him.

You had cycled through all of the coping mechanisms you knew to distract yourself from thoughts of him but it was fruitless, nothing and no one could stop you from finding yourself staring into space as you ran through memories you shared with the only person you had ever really loved, except for that one thing you knew always brought you back down to reality; you Googled him.

If Lewis was just some guy, Googling him would have provided a page of results if you were lucky, however Lewis was not just some guy, he never really had been. Articles upon articles discussing his every move filled the pages. Think pieces on his outfits, on his cars, and of course his dating life appeared. There were pictures too, so very many pictures of him and others, mostly female, papped in streets and events across the globe.

As you looked at each one, and of course you looked, you felt the pinprick pain cover your skin, anxiety and grief, a fine mixture. You studied every inch of every woman that stood beside him. Each looked like a model, they were everything you didn’t feel you were yourself. They were all young, beautiful and slim, they wore clothes you would never dare to wear, and most importantly they looked as if they belonged next to him; something you had never truly felt you did.

You had known forever that you were not the kind of girl he would settle down with, Lewis was never meant for normal, Lewis was meant for remarkable, he was meant for success, he was meant for a relationship that would only ever be the envy of others, one that was labelled a ‘Power Couple’, he was meant for everything you could never be, you were normal and Lewis was not, he was remarkable and he deserved someone remarkable too.

The drive to your mum's house was narrated by the sounds of Sza’s album, each song was relatable, her lyrics spoke to your soul.

‘I try to keep from losin' the rest of me/I worry that I wasted the best of me on you, baby’

You cared not for who could see you singing along to every word as if you were Sza herself, nor did you worry about the tears streaming down your face as you let emotions out that you had suffocated for so long, emotions that now tested the strength of your waterproof mascara, as well as they tested your sanity.

Before you switched off your engine you knew there was one more thing you had to do, you turned your music up to loudest possible volume, clutching the steering wheel with a herculean grip you let out a scream, a long deep scream to bring and end to the breakdown you had scheduled for that morning.

“Are you okay? You are awfully quiet today.”

Your mum had always been intune to your feelings, it had never mattered how much you persisted that you were fine when you were not, she knew, she always knew.

“I’m going to tell you something but please be sane about it.” You knew that request was pointless, your mum could be sane about nothing involving him. “I saw Lewis.”

“Oh, you did?”

Her response was normal, unemotive, had she finally grown to hate the man as you had requested for so many years?

“Is that it? You don’t want to tell me how this was fate intervening? How it was time to give him another chance? How beautiful our babies would be? Wow mum, you really have grown.”

“Well, darling you know-”

“Oh my god, you already know don’t you? How do you know, mum?”

The realisation hit you hard as you read the expression that she barely tried to hide on her face.

“Darling, calm down…”

“No mum, what the actual…explain, everything, now!”

You could feel your face flush with a burning anger, the betrayal hit as hard as his had all those years ago. She was your mum, not his. She was supposed to be on your side, not his.

“I’m sorry, I knew this was how you would react, that’s why I didn’t tell you-”

“Tell me what, mum?”

Your leg bounced up and down as your body desperately tried to release the anger that was boiling over within you.

“You know that Lewis and I were always very close, I thought of him as a son. When you broke up, when you left him…he called me first to find out if you were still alive and then to apologise.” She hadn’t made eye contact with you once, she knew she’d betrayed you. “It started as innocently as that, then he’d call once a week…always on a Sunday evening after his race to keep me updated, he knew I enjoyed hearing how he did. He’s won so many races, did you know?”

“Are you actually serious right now?”

“Sorry, I’m just proud of him.”

“You’re proud of the guy who destroyed me, mum? You know what, fine.”

“No sweetie, it’s just-”

You were not prepared to wait around to hear more of her pathetic excuses. You had always known she was fond of him, you just didn’t ever realise she was more fond of him than she was of you.

“Since you care so much about him, more than your own daughter's feelings clearly, I’ll just leave.”

You heard your mum attempt to chase after you but it was pointless, the anger and betrayal had powered you out of the door and into your car before she had even had the chance to get near.

The tears flooded your cheeks once more, the betrayal, so much betrayal, how could the two people who swore to love you unconditionally hurt you in unimaginable ways?

Your fingers found his name in your phone and pressed the call button before you even had a chance to think about what you were doing.

“Hello?”

“How fucking dare you still speak to my mum?”

The words fell out of you in a vicious scream, a hiss of spite as you wanted answers from the one man you swore you would never speak to again.

“Baby, I-”

“No, don’t baby me! I can’t believe you would…I can’t believe she would betray me like that.”

Your voice broke as you cried uncontrollably, if you had an ounce of rationale within you in the moment you would have kept strong with your anger but instead you were powerless to the upset that engulfed the fire of anger.

“She didn’t betray you, it’s my fault. I love your mum, she’s been a mum to me too at times. I shouldn’t have kept in contact with her, I just needed to know you were okay, you disappeared and I couldn’t contact you. I needed to know you were alive, at least.”

His voice was quiet, a stark contrast to your screams.

“Maybe it would have been easier if I wasn’t.”

“No. Do not say that. Do not even play with that.” His voice rose an octave. “Are you driving right now?”

“So what if I am?”

“Pull over, please. You’re too riled up to drive safely.”

“No, you don’t get to-”

“Pull over. If you don’t, I will call the police and tell them there’s a crazy drunk woman that needs to be stopped.”

“But I haven’t been drinking.”

“Yes and they will realise that when they pull you over, but at least they would have made you stop.”

“Fine.” You said through gritted teeth. “Happy now? I’ve stopped.”

“Very. Now you’re going to breathe, I will talk to you until you calm down.”

“And if I don’t calm down?”

“Then you’ll be stuck talking to me for eternity, you don’t want to do that now do you?”

You could hear his smug smirk through the phone. He spoke to you for a whole hour, about racing, about fashion, about anything he could think of just to distract you from your thoughts. He made you smile, he made you laugh but most importantly, he made you forget you hated him, if only for that brief moment.

Your evening was a mix of dancing around the house to your favourite Spotify and drinking wine, lots and lots of wine. Your music was so loud you almost didn’t hear the knock at your door.

You opened it so casually, without checking through the peephole first, figuring that it was just your neighbour coming by to ask you to turn the music down, again.

“Hi.”

Fuck.

Clad in an oversized lilac sweater, matching cargo trousers and ridiculously big boots, clutching the prettiest bouquet of flowers you had ever seen.

“What are you-how did you even find me?” You wanted to slam the door shut, escape this absolute nightmare of a situation as fast as you could but you didn’t. “Mum…I’m going to kill her!”

You left the door open as you rushed to find your phone, ready to tear into your mum, not even considering that you had just invited him inside your home unintentionally.

“Wait…Stop.” He grabbed the phone from your hand. “She was worried about you, so she begged me to come and check on you.”

Your face was still a scowl, how many times were they both going to conspire against you?

“I can go if you want?”

“You’re here now.” You inched away from him, you needed another drink. “Would you like one?”

You wanted to scream at him, at her, at the both of them. How did you end up in this situation? How was Lewis now sitting on your sofa, still clutching the bouquet of flowers like a nervous sixteen year old waiting to take his date to prom?

“These are for you.” He handed you the bunch. “Is red still your favourite colour?”

“Yes, thank you.” You smelt them before putting them to the side.

Lewis accepted your offer of a drink, even though he didn’t normally drink anything, he was clearly just as nervous as you in this situation.

“Please ignore the…well the whole place, really.”

Suddenly you were very aware that you had this mega rich super famous guy on the sofa of your very modest, somewhat untidy apartment.

“I like it, it’s cute…very you.” He looked around the room, taking in every detail much to your annoyance. “Are you feeling better now?”

“Yes…well I mean, no. I’m too tipsy and too tired to scream at you, if that’s what you are asking?” You sipped at your wine, the harsh taste masked your anxious thoughts.

“That’s good, I don’t think my ears could handle much more of that.” You both smiled as he feigned ear pain. “But, I mean, about everything? About me being here?”

You looked at him, his locs sitting loosely on his head, his nose piercing glistened every now and then as the light from a candle reflected off of it. His soft smile, his kind eyes, everything about him was so beautiful. You weren't sure if it was the alcohol freeing you of your inhibitions but you could see the man you fell in love with once more, rather than the man you hated.

“That’s a loaded question, Lewis. But, I’m okay with you being here…for now”

“You look absolutely beautiful, by the way.”

“Shut up, no I don’t!”

You laughed at his absurdity. You were wearing what you called your comfy clothes, a tracksuit about five times too big for you and your makeup was still smudged around your face from the endless stream of tears that ruined it earlier in the day.

“You don’t get to decide that.” He took your hand, you didn’t pull it away. “You look beautiful, to me. You were always the most beautiful woman in every room.”

You allowed yourself to fall into his gaze, to get lost in the rhythm of his thumb stroking circles on your hand until you caught yourself losing control.

“That changed fast, it’s a different supermodel every week now, isn’t it?”

He screwed his face up at you, looking almost offended at the suggestion he was superficial enough to only find beauty in the obvious.

“How do you even know that? Have you been Googling me?”

“I think everyone’s seen the pictures, Lewis. You’re constantly pictured, all over the world, a new girl on your arm in every picture.”

You hoped your teasing hid your jealousy but that was pitiful, both of you could feel the aura of envy that laced every word.

He locked his fingers in yours, so intimate yet innocent the contact he made was. He was always such a touch focused partner, his hands constantly had to be on you in some form, a hand on your thigh as he drove, a hand on the small of your back as you socialised. You missed it, you missed always being the focus of his attention, even in a crowded room.

“Did you notice something in all of those pictures?”

“What? That everyone in it was ridiculously beautiful?”

His eye roll felt so exaggerated yet you could tell he meant it.

“No, just how many different women there were.”

“Are you bragging now? Ew.”

“I don’t need to brag, baby.” There was his smug smirk once more. “What I meant was, look how many different women I have met, spent time with, tried to make it work with, yet none of them stayed for very long. Do you know why that is?”

“They got bored of your in depth analysis of every move you made on the track the previous weekend?”

“Can you be serious for five minutes, please?” Lewis was getting frustrated with your making light of his words. “And if you must know, they all found my company fantastic, thank you very much!”

“Whatever. Tell me then, why did none last?”

“Because none of them were you. Supermodels, actresses, singers…none of them filled even half the hole you left in my heart when you disappeared.”

“Lewis…”

You felt him pull your hand just enough to move you closer to him on the sofa. Butterflies engulfed your stomach, you felt an unwanted tingle down below as he pulled you until your face was just inches away from his.

“Lewis…please…”

You could feel the warmth of his breath on your skin, you could smell his signature scent, you could feel his heart racing as you leant up against his torso, staring deep into his eyes.

“Tell me you don’t still love me, tell me that I don’t give you butterflies in the pit of your stomach anymore.” He brushed your lips with his, the tip of his nose grazing your own. “Tell me to go and I’ll go.”

He took your silence as permission and kissed you. In that moment, you melted into him. He was gentle with his kisses, such tender movements, you could feel how nervous he was to scare you away as he kissed you.

Your tongues danced together like they were long lost lovers, his hands brushed up your sides, so careful he was of moving too quickly with you, he settled for the feel of your waist, for now.

He gently laid you back on the sofa without breaking your kiss, worried that if he let you think in that moment you might shy away from him, he purred into your lips as he climbed on top of you.

Taking all of his weight on his forearms, he allowed only his hardness to press against you, as if he wanted to remind you of all that he offered, as if it was possible for you to ever forget.

His lips traced from your kiss, across your jawline, never once lifting the pressure on your middle as he nibbled at your neck. You let out a little moan as he sucked at the skin, leaving his mark on what had been forbidden to him for so long now. His hand roamed up your sweatshirt, gently rolling your nipple between the pads of his finger and thumb, not settling until he heard the yelp you let out.

Your breathing was shallow now as he brought his lips over to suck the teat. His other hand slipped under the waistband of your sweatpants. He groaned, your nipple still between his lips, as he drew his middle finger through your wet folds before resting on your nub.

He caught the moan that escaped your lips with his own, burying his tongue in your mouth before sucking on yours, his finger drawing soft circles on your clit.

“I need to taste you.”

He trailed your body with kisses before pulling off your sweatpants. He kissed up the inside of your thighs, your core was pulsating now, so much so you were sure he would be able to feel it the closer his face got. He brought one hand up to yours, locking his fingers in between to steady you as his tongue pressed hard against your clit.

Your whole body shook as he began to work you, you moaned into the air, he was still an expert at pleasing you and he was determined to do just that. He lapped at your middle like you were the only thing that would satisfy his hunger. You could feel him bringing you closer and closer, your high building with every pressured motion of his tongue. He could feel it building too, he squeezed your hand tighter to encourage you. He wanted it, he wanted to taste every last drop of you, he wanted you to give him your essence, he wanted to devour every part of you.

“Oh my-Lewis.”

You cried out at him, your body arching, you held your breath as he increased the speed now, desperate to push you over the edge. You squeezed his hand tightly at your peak. You came undone all over his tongue so quickly, your orgasm sitting so fiercely that all you could do was shake as you desperately tried to regain breath.

He lapped it all up, moaning himself as the juices flowed from you. He didn’t stop once, only decreasing the pressure slowly, making your high last as long as possible until you were so sensitive you whimpered at every touch.

He brought his face back up to level with yours, his fingers still locked in yours, he brought your legs to a close and wrapped them across his lap. You stared at him for a moment, his smile decorated with the glistening evidence of your undoing. You kissed him this time, tasting yourself on his tongue. You moved your free hand down to his waistband but he brushed it away, quickly.

“But-”

“No baby, tonight was all about making you feel good.” He mumbled. “There’s plenty of time for that.”

He brought your head down to his shoulder, one of his hands stroked the outside of your thigh, the other locked in your hand as you both fell asleep right where you sat.

The sunlight broke through your curtains, it took you a moment to remember who it was you were laying with but when you did, when you saw that he was still holding you as if he was scared you were going to disappear, you felt warm. You felt home, for the first time in six years, you felt like you were home.

You gently wriggled out from under him, he stirred but didn’t wake. You were grateful for the moment alone to gather your thoughts, before being faced with the next steps. You didn’t know what you wanted to do. Every sensible part of you screamed for you to stay away from him but your heart didn’t. The beautiful man that lay on your sofa, so soft he looked in that moment, innocent if it wasn’t for what you knew he was capable of. He was all you had ever wanted since the age of seventeen, he was your first and last love.

You noticed the flowers he bought still laid on the side, you picked them up to put them in some water. It was then that you noticed the card that was strapped to the side.

‘We are so much bigger than what we’ve been through.’

PART THREE

#lewis #ex #Old Flame

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