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#regardless just chose what you think is best for you
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Question:
I'm rereading the fablehaven books and I was planning on reading the dragonwatch books afterwards, but now I'm thinking I shouldn't. Are they really that much mess? And if so, is this a get through it so you can get to the fanfiction situation or just reading online summary it's so bad situation?
Hmm, well I wouldn't necessarily say don't read them, but I was extremely disappointed in them, and I know I wasn't the only one. Even those happy about the end relationship were upset at the path to it and how it was handled. Book 4 is extremely packed, and book 5 a wreck.
It's possible to get through it, and I know a few people enjoyed it even if a few admittedly did solely because they refuse to not. But as for me...
Well if you don't put a lot of value in consistent lore/world building/characterization, nor care about the characters getting balanced roles, nor care about the fact that like- at least 12 different major details just get dropped or forgotten (including Kendra's fake death from bk 4 FH). Also don't mind the excessive slavery that's excused quite a few times...
So yeah, if you're willing to work through all of that then go for it. It's up to you.
If you don't want to go through ig I could write up a full summary, and maybe you could read a summary then decide if you want to read it? Idk, up to you!
I personally do think I would read them even knowing how they end, but that's mainly because I want to know what happens in things, and if I'm gonna critique a work I feel I should have full context. In addition, I do enjoy critiquing things... Usually there's more I like and my critiques are more small details or the occasional plot hole and not the entirety of the series/book (*coughs and looks at HOO and TOA*) but... I enjoyed bits of the books, but what I didn't enjoy or made me angry was just a lot more.
I should note, bk 1 is fairly slow in comparison to the others, bk 2 is... Alright? The ending is big. Bk 3 is where my bigger critiques start, but honestly is probably the best of the books despite that. Bk 4 is EXTREMELY packed staring about 1/3 of the way in (before that it's achingly slow), you might have to read it twice to understand everything if you read it. Bk 5 is just... A wreck, packed, overusing some space, under using other space, does not pass the Bechdel test, and takes OP characters to a whole nother level.
That's a fairly no spoilers summary of it all. So yeah, lmk if you want me to do a spoilers summary of it all and I'll maybe do it tonight or tomorrow, it's up to you if you wanna read it or not I'm not gonna say it cause we probably have different things we look for in a book, and while the flaws aren't enough to stop me from reading specifically because I will take delight in tearing them apart, for you it might.
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cwunchi · 2 years
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do you ever have something click in your mind
#gonna talk about hope and multiclass stuff down here so. uh. yeah. no real specific spoilers but it is a hell of a ramble#also thanks nines for the subclass suggestion youve given me something to truly be insane about. anyway#Because. Bards. Especially lore bards to me are something I love because!! it's the magical secrets at level six!! not even for mechanical#reasons. it's just the storytelling. the want to preserve that knowledge and grow new stories from it (it's a cycle. stories are.)#it becomes even more intrinsic to the class. preserving histories and connection. thinking about how hope's songs are folk tales and#lullabies she learned as a kid. and. Bards! high charisma! you have performance! but you're a support caster you're not in the spotlight.#filling in the gaps. helping everyone be better! helping everyone along their story! the rng of binspo. you're trusting the dice to tell it#a bit of luck sure but it's all up to fate and chance and sometimes chance is all you have! but! you! make! the! best! of! it! and then.#clerics. ough. clerics obviously have their connection with the divine but to me it's more about what the cleric themself believes.#you ally yourself with the beliefs of a god. It's your beliefs your hopes your dreams!! that's all you! you chose to believe in that#and your belief is made real! into its purest form as magic but that magic is *you* it's your love. it's her love. and the peace domain too#you're not built for fighting. the social cleric class. Talking to people is literally Your Thing. you gain a people skill 1st level.#because communication is your thing! it's your magic! combine that with a high level bard and ough. emboldening bond too.#you believe in these people so much. you love so much that the connections between you all become that magic. Trust so strong it's tangible#But it's still only fate! Bond isnt a set amount it's a d4 it's still up to the dice It's about being a bard and believing in your craft#and telling the story while you're still in it. it's a story you will never be able to completely control but you love these people#and you're willing to try to get them a happy end regardless. and you know they're trying too.#hope#is this 1am gibberish? yes.#has dnd brainrot got to me? yes
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allsadnshit · 2 months
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Sometimes I think about my best friend in my 20's response to when I told her I was envious of how talented and skilled she was cause she was always the friend that was doing a million new hobbies and just really had it together in my eyes and she seemed so disappointed in me and said how she's always been perceived as "talented" for things she was not a natural at and had actually worked tirelessly hard to learn to do and how it's never a compliment to assume someone has something you don't simply because they got lucky because more often than not they were just as capable as you and just chose to take risks, dedicate time, push through discomforts or doubts that maybe you succumb to, and really earned things that are often nonchalantly disregarded by peers as having walking in with already in hand
And I feel like that conversation really changed me cause I've always been bad at school and been a slow learner so I just sort of decided I wasn't smart and it wasn't my fault I wasn't born with the same advantages of people around me and I think that's something we all do as self protection from the truth that the only thing truly keeping us from what we want is usually ourselves and our decisions about our own narratives that aren't actually in stone even if we see them that way
I realized my friend was actually just not a quitter, and that she also felt not good enough often but decided to keep going in times where I know I would have stopped in her place
And I feel like taking ownership of my life a lot in the last few years has made me understand her better, even with stuff like chronic illness that practically begs us to victimize ourselves and then that way of thinking makes us sicker and more dependent on others when we could be accepting help without considering ourselves so helpless
It's really weird interacting with anyone once I've realized so much of that because I see my old self in people when they talk to me like I have something they don't because I am finally making different choices than I used to and honestly it is very irritating regardless of intention
If you want something someone else has that doesn't give you permission to assume how they got it or what it is even like having it - and I think more and more people have decided it's not their fault how they are choosing to live and that's why they are so stuck
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byoldervine · 1 month
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How To (Realistically) Make A Habit Of Writing
To clarify: Works with my autism. WORKS WITH MY AUTISM!!! I’ve been meeting my goals since I made them my New Year’s resolution! Anyway I’m so sick of all those ‘how to’ guides that don’t actually tell you what the process is they’re just like ‘just do it, but don’t burn yourself out, do what’s best for you!’ because you’re not telling me what I’m not supposed to be burning myself out over but okay, so I made my own. Hope this helps
1. Choose your fighter metric. What works better for you as a measurement of your progress; time spent writing or your word count? Personally I get very motivated and encouraged by seeing my word count go up and making a note of where it should be when I’m done, so I measure by that. At the same time, a lot of people are also very discouraged by their word count and it can negatively impact their motivation to write, and in that case you may be better off working from how much time you spend writing rather than where the word count is
2. Choose your starter Pokémon time frame. How often can you write before it starts to feel like a chore or a burden rather than something fun you look forward to? Many people believe that they have to write daily, but for some people this can do more harm than good. Maybe every two or three days? Weekly? Figure out what fits your schedule and go with it
3. Choose your funny third joke goal. Now that you’ve got your chosen time frame to complete your goal in, what’s a reasonable goal to aim to complete within that time frame based on the metric you chose? If your metric is your word count, how much can you reasonably and consistently write within your chosen time frame? If your metric is time spent writing, how much time can you reasonably and consistently spend writing within that time? Maybe 1000 words per week works, or maybe 10 minutes per day? The goal here is to find something that works for you and your own schedule without burning you out
4. Trial and error. Experiment with your new target and adapt it accordingly. Most people can’t consistently write 1667 words per day like you do in NaNoWriMo, so we want to avoid that and aim somewhere more reasonable. If you feel like it’s too much to do in such a short time frame, either give yourself less to do or more time to do it in. If you find yourself begrudgingly writing so often that it constantly feels more like a chore than something fun, maybe consider adapting things. And if you think that you gave yourself too much wiggle room and you could do more than this consistently, give yourself more of a challenge. Everything needs to suit you and your pace and needs
5. Run your own race. Don’t feel like you’re not accomplishing enough in comparison to others or not working fast enough to satisfy some arbitrary feeling of doubt. Everybody works at their own pace and slower work doesn’t mean worse work. You could be on one word per day and you’ll still see consistent results, which is still one word per day more than you could originally count on. All progress is progress, regardless of its speed
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moondirti · 20 days
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kyle yearns for his captain's approval. you're the perfect medium through which he can secure it.
featuring: gaz x fem!reader x price. very consensual. fondling. inspection. fluff. praise kink. objectification. cucking? anal play. mentions of dp and breeding. 4k words of nonsense.
when price asks gaz if he's got anyone at home, gaz answers.
truthfully. he'd be hesitant to admit that he does to anyone else – soap especially, what with his track record of worming his way into people's pants – but his captain is... his captain. jonathan price. a real force of nature, cursed with an uncanny determinism and a habit of getting what he wants regardless of if those around him are willing. gaz knows that price will find out eventually; when the ring he's been planning to purchase for months finds it's way onto your finger, and he requests a change be made to the dependants section of his paperwork. perhaps before then too, if he really did some digging. but gaz also knows that, if there were anyone to trust with this precious knowledge, it'd be him.
so, he tells him about the little number he's got tucked away in a home in south oxfordshire. it's the lazy afternoon before a big mission, and he shouldn't be drinking but he is, a tumbler cradled between his palms and the burn of rye whiskey loosening his tongue. price doesn't speak, just listens, as the sergeant gradually devolves into more and more detail about your meeting, your courtship, the work you distract yourself with when he's not around. and despite his reverence, he admits it all breathlessly, a sheepishness pervading every word. how is he expected to keep his composure when the air is so heavy? unrelenting scrutiny and the potent waft of cigar-smoke draw a hot flush to his skin, the older man humming every so often as a prompt for him to continue.
he wants to, oddly enough. gaz is a reticent man, second only to ghost when it comes to keeping his life private. but something about this circumstance has him ready to lay it all bare. he wants to tell price about how you kiss his neck, the wicked fucking ways in which you use your mouth to milk him dry. he wants to pull out his phone, scroll through the hidden album full of pictures of your tits, of home-made films that paint you in a cum-covered, dazzling light. he wants price to know that he chose right, wants to hear the praise whispered in his ear as his captain lays a sturdy clap onto his back.
instead, he shrugs.
"not much more to tell, cap."
"damn shame." price taps his cigar to rid of the ashes. "sounds like a proper match, garrick. good for you."
and it's enough. a big enough lump of wood to keep the needy fire in his belly roaring. he shifts in his seat to dissuade the heat, rubbing his jaw in contemplation like he hasn't already thought of a perfect way to reap more.
"tell you what, sir. we survive this next assignment, i'll bring you over to meet 'er."
it's a hairbreadth escape, but they do manage to make it back alive, albeit a bit more scarred than they once were. gaz gets home late at night to find you awake, waiting on him despite the incredibly short notice he'd given you for his arrival. it's there – in the foyer, his nose buried in your neck as you babble on about how much you missed him, and what you'll make for breakfast to celebrate, and questions like hey, are you okay? that cut looks fresh or when was the last time you slept? – that he breaks the news. you'll be having his captain over for dinner in two week's time.
of course you're overjoyed. you've been begging to meet the people he risks his life with ever since he told you what he did for work. the planning is immediate. you're dumping recipes on him the next morning, asking for his opinion on what appetiser, main, and dessert your guest of honour would enjoy best. and what's his poison, anyway? i can get my hands on a nice bottle of scotch if you think it'd be worth it. kyle doesn't have the heart to tell you that nothing you'll do would matter much, that price has already taken a liking to you. besides, if anything, your homemaking ability makes him chub up in his pants. best not to rob himself of that delight.
the night arrives as quick as it had been put forward. gaz has to dodge your attempts to put a tie on him, stifles your complaints with a kiss and insists that it's not that kind of dinner party. you're confused (bless you) but flit around making last minute preparations in your bustier midi-dress anyway, kitten-heels clicking against the polished hardwood floors. at a certain point, he can tell that you're fussing over nothing and pulls you by the hand to stand by the doorway with him.
"there's something i didn't mention earlier." he whispers when you're finally settled, tucking his index finger under your chin. your brows knit anxiously. he pecks the canyons between them, stroking your bottom lip until the frazzled energy bleeds from you.
"why would you wait? there's not enough t–"
"not exactly something you can plan for, doll. s'just gonna happen." when you fail to push him for more context, he sighs. "price is expecting to see you."
"sure... that's the whole point, isn't it?"
"no, sweetheart." gaz's free hand wraps around your waist, lowering until it reaches the plush sweel of your ass. his touch lays breadcrumbs for you to follow, leading you down the very depraved path he's trekked a million times the past few weeks. "i mean all of you."
your lips part in realization. oh. he's scared straight for a second, heart hammering like it always does when he reveals a darker fantasy to you. but you merely smile – anxious, sure, pupils clouded with fresh concern, but a smile nonetheless – and accept his admission gracefully.
"and you want me to let him?"
gaz nods. "if you'd please."
you place a chaste kiss on his cheek, careful not to smear your makeup onto his clean-shaven skin. "okay."
he visibly slackens, an edge of playfulness cutting it's way back into his tone. "what's say we take those panties off, make things easier when the time arrives?"
"can' remember the last time i had a beef welly this good, love. family recipe?"
"yes, actually! but it took me some time to perfect for my own. the original called for sherry in the duxelle, but i always thought wine was better suited."
kyle doesn't know if he's ever been more proud of you.
you're a vision. the paradigm of charm. he half feared things to would be awkward following your conversation at the doorway, but aside from the first few minutes of price's arrival – the time it took everyone to thaw the ice of unfamiliarity – you've been anything but stilted. in fact, he worries that you missed the true implication of his request – of the direction things will take later – given the way you laugh openly. the ease in which you bridge conversation topics. your attentiveness, eyes roving over both your boyfriend and his captain to ensure everyone has everything they need. you certainly don't act like a girl who's going to be nakedly appraised tonight. all the expected clumsiness, the stumbling over your own words, replaced instead by eloquence and quick wit.
sweet girl. bloody... beautiful, darling girl.
price seems to think so too. he chuckles heartily at the stories you offer of kyle failing learning to waterski during your anniversary trip to mauritius (and offers his own insight too, something along the lines of how you'd expect the sergeant to be better balanced, given he's survived hanging off a helicopter before). offers some solid advice on how to deal with the ostentatious coworker whose been bugging you for months. and when you question him about his personal life – a line every good soldier knows not to take with their CO, which has gaz wincing internally – all your guest offers is a genuine, crinkle-eye smile. no doubt appreciative of the non-intrusive manner you ask.
he shoots gaz a look before answering, and it's one full of tacky warmth. a look he's seen several times on the field, molasses sweet and satisfying, one that invades his private thoughts too often to admit. whose effect he knows only comes off in a cold shower, a quick pump to his cock if you're not around to help relieve it. something like approval. unspoken praise.
"wish i could say i've been blessed like the two of ya. married to my work, m'afraid."
"oh." you wave your arms, standing to clear the table of dirty plates. "don't be ridiculous, john. you're a wonderful man. put yourself out there and i'm sure it'll come to you." you say it like it's breathing, and just as easily prance away to the kitchen, your voice losing to the clatter of silverware in the sink. thus, when you yell out something about dessert (price is really only able to decipher i made madeira! over the illegible chorus of cabinets closing) kyle is the one to answer you. well-trained in untangling your voice from any sort of ruckus, poor cell reception and moans and drunk gibberish and the obstructive fabric of his hoodie when you sob into his chest.
"maybe later, doll!" he voices back, scratching the back of his neck as he takes in the food still laid out in front of them. picked apart by hungry forks but still, enough to make up days worth of leftovers.
"mm. the girl stuffed me full, garrick." price stretches from his seat. "if i didnt know any better, i'd reckon you lot were fattening me up to feast on me come winter."
gaz stores the remains of your meal into nearby tupperwares then follows suit, urging his captain to follow him into the lounge. "please," he laughs, nodding when the man pulls a cigar from his pocket and twists it in a silent question. "she thinks they starve us out there. tries to make up for it by feedin' me into oblivion when i'm home."
"speak for yourself. i could do with a home-cooked meal every now 'n' then." the captain takes a puff of the maduro between his fingers, lets the smoke cloud his hindbrain. your house smells so much like you, like kyle and you – warm laundry and anise and jasmine – that he feels a quick lick of guilt at ruining the fragile balance of it. too little too late, too – the scent of leather and oily spice pervades the space.
but you don't mention it once you waltz back in, smoothing your hands across the back of your dress. "if we don't get a chance to try the cake tonight, remind me to send you home with some, john." gaz poorly conceals his laugh with a cough, sinking into the cushion when you shoot him an offended look. "what?"
"nothing," he pouts, then hides his next words behind the back of his hand, whispering to price. "i told you."
"i can hear you, you twat!" you flick his ear, brows furrowed in faux irritation as your boyfriend wraps an arm around your legs.
"i know! hey– i know, gorgeous. was only joking." his forehead nudges your tummy, restless until you comb your hand over his tight curls. "th'captain knows that too. isn't that right, sir?"
"of course."
"you laugh now, but wait until you're halfway through a month long mission. you'll wish you had me around!"
"don't i know it." kyle murmurs, the fingers at the back of your thigh slowly creeping upward. the skirt of your dress slips, climbs up your legs with the motion of his forearm, and all too suddenly he remembers your lack of undergarments.
fuck. he almost forget he pocketed your panties. and you... you've been so natural, such a good hostess despite the cold brush of air constantly on your cunt. it flips a primal switch inside him – that same trigger that'd prompted mention of this night in the first place. blood rushes to his cock so fast it hurts, desperation flooding his lungs until the only thing he can breathe out is your name.
"hmmm." you smile in return. and if price weren't here, he'd bury his nose into the canyon between your legs and take a deep inhale of your natural musk.
but he is, and so all gaz can manage is a quiet: "how about you show the captain our little surprise?"
"oh?" the man in question hums. dangerously relaxed, two legs spread and his posture curved as he watches the little display you put on for him. "what's this about a surprise, then?"
you bite your lip, raking your nails down from your boyfriend's neck to his shoulder and placing a tight, reassuring squeeze there before breaking away. nothing is said as you push an ottoman between price's knees, making sure it's steady before pushing him to rest against the back of the couch.
"do you like my dress?" you practically purr, bending over as to pronounce your tits. kyle's breath stutters, watching for the way superior's eyes take in your form. gratification swells in his belly when he just smiles, patting your hip.
"s'that really a question that needs to be asked, lovie? you know the answer."
an adorable mix between a shrug and giggle is all you give. "kyle says you want to see me."
"aye. i do."
"and i wanna make him happy."
"same for me."
and kyle thinks he could just cum in his pants if this keeps up. he feels filthy, both an observer and the main act in this spectacle. the knowledge that his captain doesn't just want you, the love of his life, but him too works away at him, hollowing him out until he's nothing but a husk of docile yearning.
"so, what'll it be?" you say.
"turn around. elbows on the ottoman, knees on either side of my thighs."
you obey instantly, lamplight catching the heated flush of your skin while you position yourself according to price's wishes. your back arcs so that your ass is prominently within his view, plump even beneath the loose material of your dress.
"kyle."
"sir." he coughs, shifting to conspicuously adjust the aching mass tucked in his waistband.
"on your knees, son. righ' here beside me. when i ask a question, you're expected to answer."
"yes, sir."
"got tha' that, lovie?" he grunts. "respond now, and then it's silence from you."
"okay!" you wiggle your hips, forgetting yourself for a moment. "sir!"
this gaz can do. following orders. grounded pragmatism, however far this is from a professional setting. he figures price has gleaned as much, has given him this task so he doesn't flounder off track throughout the evening and ruin things for everyone. the hard part is over then, all of that hesitant foreplay – of opening up, getting you to agree, of the stretch of time it took for everyone to warm up to one another – wrapped up for something simpler.
all he has to worry about is answering promptly and correctly while he watches his captain–
flip your skirt over your hips.
a low whistle. then, two hands on your backside, kneading the soft flesh there. working either globe apart like dough, the glistening seam of your most private parts spread open to prying eyes. price appraises your cunt for the first time like he would a winning showdog, or the sky on a particularly pleasant day. all utilitarian-like. if it weren't for the bulge in his trousers, your boyfriend would almost be offended.
"no panties, hm?"
"no-" you start, squeaking out an apology when you earn a firm swat to your thigh.
"i asked her to go without them tonight. thought... you'd appreciate it, sir." kyle replies, swallowing the saliva that arises upon seeing your lips flutter.
"good lad." a hot flash of arousal breaks across his chest. the captain lets go of his grip on your ass, watching how the fat jiggles back into place, then returns to squeezing it. "surprised i couldn't smell 'er, way she was dancing around us all night."
it isn't a question, so gaz stays quiet.
the groping continues. sometimes its light – brushes of calloused palms across the area, disturbing the stillness like a rock skipping over water. you ripple when he pokes, shake when he taps. other times, and increasingly once price notes your resilience to pain, it borders on rough. moulding your flesh into compact pinches, jabbing his thumb into the softness so hard it'll bruise. you take it all with grace, a low whine building in your chest that he let's go unpunished.
"she's taking this well. you rough her up often?"
"when she asks, sir." he thinks for a moment, catching your wily smile from the corner of his eye. minx. "likes it more than i do giving it to her."
"need someone to take care of the both of ya." price chuckles, then moves on, oblivious to the way the sergeant's hips buck at his implication. or, maybe he notices – probably does – and stores it away for another time. "looks like a greedy little pussy to me." his thumbs hook onto either side of your labia, pulling it apart like fresh bed to reveal the sloppy mess between. your clit is enflamed, angry for being neglected for so long. if you were allowed to speak, kyle can guarantee with almost a hundred percent certainty that you'd be whining to be touched. "look a' tha'." price's accent grows thicker. "fat little thing just jumping for attention."
he curls a finger, then flicks the swollen bud. a loud moan bursts from you, your face falling between your forearms as you hold yourself back from begging. gaz would've acquiesced by now, would've rubbing the bundle of nerves raw the second you fanned your pretty lashes up at him.
but price snaps it three more times in rapid succession, which apparently is too much for you to handle because you yell. "p-please!"
he remedies your slip up with a slap to the same area. the crack on impact echoes long enough to tell him that one hurt. "shhh. so spoiled, sergeant. how often do you make her cum?"
"a-at least three times a go, sir."
"what's the record?"
"eight."
"and the longest you've held off?"
kyle hesitates, bowing his head for the reprimand he knows is coming. "never... never tried. sir."
"tch."
a precision blow. swift but petrifying. the captain's managed to find both your loose strings in a matter of minutes, tugging to see them come undone on his lap. gaz has got the unwavering urge to rest his chin on his strong thigh, put it on the record that he isn't weak willed, just indulgent. something that can be easily remedied, with his guidance. if he'd let him.
and you...
you're gyrating your hips, begging for some pressure on your aching centre. price gives it to you, though not in the way you expect, pinching your clit and tightening his hold until you're motionless, muscles trembling but otherwise perfectly poised.
so the inspection continues. he fans out your vulva, exposing the hole that clenches around nothing. a laugh wracks his frame at the sight, the aftermath of it husky. amused. "begging to be filled, a'right. how many cocks has she had in 'ere?"
"just mine, sir. and her toys."
"how about at once?"
kyle's never been so bold with you; has always held back that godless part of him, that needy dog he sees his comrades often embrace. pure, unfettered degeneracy. you're soft, and pretty and good and a high-functioning member of society. and he's never once wanted to see you hurt, uncomfortable or bite-mark-bloodied, despite the way his mind screams at him to at least ask. see if you'd be willing to appease that side of him.
yet you visibly shiver at the thought proposed by price, gooseflesh pocking your skin, and he knows he should have thrown caution to the wind.
"one, sir."
he watches the man's finger outline the circumference of your opening, dipping in by the millimetre to test the waters. "shame. could probably stretch her out. get 'er nice and loose for whenever you wan' something to keep you warm without the commitment."
the finger plunges in.
gaz watches you swallow his superior to the last knuckle in what must be a world-record, no time to blink lest he misses it. price goes with the motion, setting his free hand onto your ass to keep you steady as he wiggles his digit to make space amidst the tight embrace of your walls. or, that's what he thinks is happening. the only indication he has of things are the lewd squelches your cunt emits and the face of pure ecstasy you pull. but he's well-versed enough in your bodily functions that he's sure of his estimate.
"scratch wha' i said. nothing beats this." his superior groans, and for the first time that night, adjusts himself in his pants. kyle wishes he would pull it out, allow himself the relief of freeing a raging hard-on from its confines. but kyle also wishes that he could be given something to do, something with his mouth perhaps, to sate the unaddressed thrill in his bones. it wouldn't take a smart man to figure out that both wishes are very much correlated. "fucking suffocating clutch. wouldn' pull out if my life depended on it. pussy like this isn' made for that, garrick."
"sir?"
"you cum inside her, lad?"
"i- yes. i-i do. she's on birth control."
"best to see to that, then." he says, like the contraceptive is an obstacle and not a consolation. you release another, long-winded moan, to which price pulls his finger out to pat your vulva. like taming a wild animal. "though what i said still stands. could always do with a loose hole."
his hand inches up.
this time, it's gaz who groans.
loudly. his eyes fluttering halfway shut, hands tugging at the tight fabric over his groin. you throw a curious look over your shoulder, concern glossing your pupils until you confirm that the source of the sound isn't pain, but pleasure. ecstasy at finally having his wants vocalised, that incessant impulse that nags and nags and nags anytime he's fucking you from behind, tight rim practically leering up at him, tempting him to thrust upwards and 'accidentally' slip in.
"you like that, sergeant? hm? ever use this asshole? it looks unbroken to me."
"y-you're... not wrong, sir. i–"
"but you want to?" he finishes for him, scooping some of the abundant slick from your cunt and slathering it onto your back entrance. it's not enough lubrication to do anything but press one thumb in, but he repeats the process to push the other in alongside it.
"yeah."
you give him a look that can't mean anything except we'll talk about this later and he can bloody kiss price if he was given permission to, if not for anything but helping him open this impossible subject with you.
"we'll see to tha' some other day, then."
his thumbs retreat. your hole winks shut again. gaz is torn between looking at you or his captain, but the latter man robs him of the indecision by bringing his dominant index and middle fingers to his lips. they're shiny with the remnants of your fluids, as if he needed any incitement to wrap his mouth around the digits. he works at them until price's fingers prune, laving his tongue around the knuckles, against the nail beds, all the way through to the fold of skin between them.
so desperate to please, to see to it that 'some other day' is everyday henceforth.
a future with price by your sides. beyond just the field. the bite in your supple existence. spice supporting anise and jasmine, some aphrodisiac blend that'll carry you through to the end of your lives, happy. sated. a mediator. commander. captain. his captain.
"that's a good boy."
he could really get used to this.
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seelestars · 1 month
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thinking about touching the exposed skin on aventurines chest…
the two of you were currently alone, enjoying some much needed peace after a long day. though, you suppose the peace wouldn’t last long since you let your impulsive thoughts take over.
what would happen if you teased the skin beneath aventurine’s chest window?
before you could stop yourself, your hand had already reached out to caress the exposed skin.
his reaction was one you found quite delightful, his body immediately tensing up as he narrows his eyes at you in a playful manner. “oh? I didn’t know we were playing this game tonight.” aventurine smirks—a feeble attempt at covering up the way you had slightly flustered him. it was obvious your touch made his heart throb and his breath quicken, his pupils dilated as his cheeks were coated in a rosy tint. your sudden touch had caught him off guard, his trust and affection for you allowing him to safely lower his guard around you.
“I just wanted to see how you’d react, that’s all.” you quickly respond, hoping to dismiss any ideas of him retaliating and teasing your body back as well. despite how you seemed to want him to forget about it, you only added more fuel to the fire once you decided to teasingly lick his exposed skin.
feeling your warm tongue on his smooth skin, aventurine couldn’t help but bite his lower lip as he looks down at you with half-lidded eyes. to be frank—he enjoyed it when you played these games with him. it gave him chances to amuse himself, as well as chances to enjoy your touch.
though … he considered reciprocation to be the best part in these little games.
which is why there was a mischievous and sly smirk on his lips as he uttered his next words. “mm… you say that, and yet, you’re still choosing to continue. I’m sure you’re aware of what you’re getting yourself into, aren’t you? so… better prepare yourself.” aventurine chuckles lowly at your surprised expression. now, he was sure he implanted many ideas into your head regarding what he would do to you—but he chose to make you anticipate his next actions as he begins to pull his gloves off with his teeth.
…this ended up much more suggestive than i intended for it to be(*゚▽゚*) but regardless, enjoy!
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iamasimperyk · 3 months
Text
Professor's Pet
Warnings: Smut, Cursing, Taboo topic, English is not my first language
Summary: You have a crush on your professor
Pairing: Professor!Rafe x Student!Reader
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You knew it was wrong, however, you couldn't help but fall for your professor.
Rafe Cameron. The hot professor every girl on campus had a crush on. You promised yourself you would not be one of those girls, save to say you failed miserably.
Another thing you promised yourself was to never fall for a married man. Fuck. He even had a child.
All the time you reminded yourself that it was nothing but a silly little crush. He had a family, and you were barely twenty.
Still, every lecture got harder and harder for you. He just looked so fine and the way he had with words—it was just too much for you.
"Alright, students, see you next Monday." Rafe smiled, finishing his lesson.
People slowly started leaving, leaving, and you took a big breath before you approached your professor.
"Mr. Cameron? Could I talk to you for a minute?" You asked, feeling how your knees had already gotten weaker.
His smile fell a little, but he nodded regardless, "Of course, Ms. Y/l/n."
"The essay from a week ago, I think you made a mistake with my mark." You said in the friendliest way possible.
"No, I don't think so. The grammar of your essay was rather weak, and I didn't really appreciate the way you chose to write about the topic. The task was to write nothing but information and nothing about your personal opinion." He told you, packing his stuff in the meantime.
"All my other professors never had something against my grammar or my use of words?" You said in confusion.
"Well, Ms. Y/l/n, I suggest you focus on your writing. I am not quite interested in hearing your little excuses." He said with a strict voice before he walked out of the room
You stood there stunned. He never had something against your writing, and he never acted so annoyed and cold toward his students.
Tears swelled up in your eyes, and you quickly left the room, wanting nothing more than to cry in your bed.
You felt like shit. Rafe Cameron couldn't know about the crush you had on him since you never told anyone, and you also tried your best not to make it too obvious—not like the other girls. Maybe he had just a bad day, or maybe, he was really not fond of your essay.
------
A few weeks later, nothing had changed. You saw how friendly your professor acted toward other students, but when you tried to ask a question, he just acted differently. Fuck, he even ignored you every time you raised your hand in one of his lectures.
At this point, you should have accepted the fact that he hated you. But you couldn't.
You stood in front of his office and knocked on the black wooden door.
After a few seconds, it opened, " Oh, you must be one of my husband's students."
There she was, Rafe Cameron's wife. She was beautiful, and she seemed to be nice.
"Y-yeah, I just wanted to ask something about the lecture today, but I will just send him an e-mail." You mumbled with a small smile before you turned around to leave.
After you heard how the door closed, there was screaming.
------
The next day, after everybody left the room, Rafe Cameron asked to talk to you for a moment.
"Ms. Y/l/n, I am sure you had a good reason for coming to my office yesterday, but I would appreciate it if you don't bother me in my free time." He said in a cold tone.
You couldn't take it anymore. It was not a crime to ask a professor a question outside of lectures.
"Mr. Cameron, I tried my best not to say anything, but I can't take it anymore. I was polite to you and handed in every assignment you gave. And you? You gave me bad marks, and everything I do is bad in your opinion," You raised your voice, but he just stared at you coldly.
"What have I done wrong? Just tell me so I can change-" You went on, before he interrupted you," You are the problem. Everything about you is the problem."
You looked at him confused, "What do you mean, Mr. Cameron?"
"Fuck, I mean look at you. The way you look, the way you dress, the way you swing your hips when you walk out of the room, the way you bite down your lip when you're thinking. I can't think about you this way. I am your professor, and you are my student." He told you, pacing around the room.
Your professor, who was also your secret crush, liked you. He liked you in the same way you liked him. But what now?
"I- I don't know what to say now." You muttered and looked away, biting down your lip.
Rafe looked at you, taking a big step forward, and put his hands on your cheeks, "Just one, please."
You looked at him innocently and gave him a small nod. That was all it took before he leaned down and pressed his lips against yours.
You kissed him back, your tongues dancing around in each other's mouths.
"Please," You let out a desperate moan, and Rafe quickly picked you up before he placed you on his desk.
He took one of his hands away from your butt and brought it down to lift the hem of your black skirt. Slipping it inside your panties and pushing a finger inside your tight, now wet folds.
One of his hands still squeezed your ass as you moaned into his mouth. He broke the kiss, his eyes staring into yours, full of lust, "Who would have thought that you are such a slut for your professor?"
He started to work a second finger inside your tight cunt. Your clit grinding against his palm.
"So desperate, my little whore." He picked up the pace, pumping his fingers in and out of your aching pussy.
All you could do was moan and whimper. You were about to cum before you felt him retract his fingers.
You let out a sound of disappointment, which he returned with one of his famous smirks. He unbuckled his belt and pulled out his cock. He rubbed it against your dripping wet slit before he buried it inside your little cunt.
"Mr. Cameron," You let out a moan that was muffled by another hard kiss.
He started to thrust his hips. Your little pussy clamping around his hard thick cock as he fucked you on his desk.
You wrapped your legs around his waist as your bodies rocked together.
"Is this what you wanted?" He asked, and all you could do was cry out a small 'Yes, sir'.
He kissed you hungrily, and you could feel yourself nearly at the edge. "Cum with me. Show me what a little slut like you looks like when she cums hard all over her professor's cock." He moaned into your mouth.
You threw your head back as your pussy spasmed. Your hips bucked against him as his orgasm washed over him as well, riding out your orgasms together.
He looked into your eyes again, "You did so good for me, princess. Come on, let's clean you up."
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nostradamousse · 2 years
Text
My ex best friend, the one that ghosted me, is now best friends with my ex roommate, the one that treated me like shit for weeks over a d&d dispute. Saying I'm heartbroken is an understatement.
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fxirysforesight · 3 months
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Future Career Pick A Card
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Directions: Take 3 Mindful Breaths and Pick The Work Set-Up That Attracts You The Most!
Disclaimer: This is a general reading. It may not resonate for everyone and that's okay! If you are having trouble choosing a pile, take a minute to relax and then try again.
Pile One:
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What Career Path Is Pile One Looking To Go Into?
Judgment, 9 of Cups, 4 of Swords
I feel like this is my Legal Studies, Politics, and Healthcare Pile. A lot of you are looking to go into Law or careers where you feel as though you are doing the right thing. You may want to go into careers where you are representing people or being a voice of reason for someone. You all seem to be problem solvers or at least interested in conflict-resolution based careers. Those of you who chose this pile are probably all or nothing people. I don't think a lot of you have any Plan B's or C's. You probably decided very early on what you want to be or do and that's what your heart is set on. You are looking for a career that has everything that you want. A career that fits your wants and needs and is a source of fulfillment for you is ideal Pile One.
These Are Some Careers I See You All Looking To Go Into/Be: Lawyers, Judges, Administration, Healthcare (Doctor or Nurse, a Veterinarian as well), Legal Work, Therapist (Mental Health, Massage, Etc.), Yoga or Meditation Instructor? For some of you, I see jobs where you are the Middle Man like for example a Hiring Recruiter.
What Career Path Is Best For Pile One?
8 of Cups Rx, The High Priestess, Strength
Pile One, you need to go into a career path that you know you won't walk away from. A career path that is sustainable for YOU. Regardless of the pay or whatever other constraints there may be, you need to find a job that satisfies your soul and not just your financial or social needs. I said before how I think that you all may enjoy conflict-resolution careers. It would be best for you all to find a career from which you can learn from or solve problems within. You would likely excel in careers that involve caring for someone or something in some way, shape, or form.
These Are Some Careers I Think You Would Excel In: Healthcare (Doctor, Nurse, Vet, Psychiatrist, Psychologist) Detective Work, Professor or Teacher, Guru, Counselor, Medium, Psychic, Astrologer, Tarot Reader.
Significators: French, Frenchie, or French Tips, Aries, Spring Months (March, April, May), 20+, Dyed Hair, "Not Yet", 444, Libra, 7th House Placements (Specifically Mercury and Sun), Strong Pisces, 12th House Sun or Moon, Moon and Neptune Dominant, Leo or 5th House Placements.
Pile Two: (This Pile was very similar to Pile One. If you felt drawn to that Pile go and give it a read and see if it resonates!)
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What Career Path Is Pile Two Looking To Go Into?
5 of Swords Rx, The Star, The Wheel Of Fortune
The first thing I saw and heard was "Giving Back". This is my Humanitarian pile. A lot of you are likely studying or wanting to study Humanitarian Studies. You likely find yourself leaning towards careers or social endeavors that benefit not only yourself but the rest of the world as well. Your ultimate goal in a career is overcoming challenges, compromising or ending a conflict of some sort. You all want to change the world and give the up and coming generations inspiration and hope for a better world to live in. You want renewal. A fresh start.
These Are Some Careers I See You All Looking To Go Into/Be: Public Service, Tech and IT Jobs, Motivational Speakers or Anything To Do With Public Speaking, Freelancers or Non Contract Workers, Nonprofit Organization Workers, Health and Safety Professionals, Human Rights Activists, Scientists, Researchers, Entrepreneurs, Advocates, Social Workers.
What Career Path Is Best For Pile Two?
The Emperor, 4 of Swords Rx, Ace of Wands
Pile Two, you need to go into a career path where you have the opportunity to lead. A career path that offers you stability and structure. A career path that is practical and logical according to your own needs. All jobs will make you feel stress, but I would advise you to enter a career that provides you with the sanctuary you need to rest and recuperate. I feel like those of you who chose this pile get tired or burnt out pretty quick? Extroverts with low social betteries? It would do you well to enter into careers that you see yourself building a future off of. Additionally, for some of you I think jobs that are more hands on and interactive would be better for you. Careers that provide you with passion, action, and excitement!
These Are Some Careers and Career Titles I Think You Would Excel At: Self Employment, CEO's or Bosses, Government Based Careers, Entrepreneurs, Engineers, Military, Managers, Administration, Manual Labor, Tech and IT Jobs, Freelancing, Careers That Allow You To Travel, Sports or Athletics. This Pile has a VERY strong Masculine Energy. A lot of you may find yourselves in Male Dominated Career Paths, and you may have a lot of Masculine Energy in your Natal Charts as well.
Significators: Aries, Leo, Aquarius, Libra, Spanish, 10th House Mercury, 10th House Uranus, Chart Ruler in 11th House, Air and Fire Dominants, Mars in 1st or 10th, Libra Mercury, Sun-Mars and Sun-Saturn Aspects, 555, Aquarius Midheaven and DSC, Uranus Dominant.
Pile Three:
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What Career Path Is Pile Three Looking To Go Into?
Queen of Wands, Queen of Cups, Page of Cups Rx
Creative Workers. A lot of you who chose this pile may have struggles or are currently struggling with finding the career path that suits you. You WANT to do a certain career, but you may think that you NEED to do another career because the career you dream of is unrealistic or out of reach or maybe just doesn't fall into your life plans or budget. You are likely searching for a career that you have an emotional connection to. Although money is important to you, you're not really concerned too much about monetary matters, because you know that you can't be happy in a career that doesn't speak to you. You want a career that you get excited about being able to do, a career that allows you to feel as though you are in control of your own life. A lot of you want to work with kids and young people, I can tell.
These Are Some Careers I See You All Looking To Go Into/Be: Elementary School Teachers, Leaders of Some Kind, Child Counselors, Midwives, Nannies, Children's Book Authors, Music Teachers, Singers, Poets, Interior Design, Home Business (Maybe a Daycare), Family Therapist, Realtor or Real Estate. In contrast to Pile Two, there is a lot of Feminine Energy in this pile. You all may find yourselves in Female Dominated career paths and you may have an abundance of Feminine Energy in your chart.
What Career Path Is Best For Pile Three?
King of Swords, The Chariot, Justice
Pile Three, I would advise you all to go into career paths where you have structure and routine. A lot of you who chose this pile have very strong morals and values with all of this watery energy here. You are kind and empathetic but you are also logical and firm. You would do well in a position of authority, where you are allowed to demonstrate and enforce self-discipline and hardwork. You will likely be known for your candor and integrity in your careers pile three. You value honesty and fairness, and it will show regardless of what path you choose. You would thrive in careers that allow you to teach others about the wonders of the World, whatever that may mean to you.
These Are Some Careers and Career Titles I Think You Would Excel At: Counselors, Networking, Mediators, Influencers, Authors, Motivational Speakers, Auditors, Elementary School Teachers, Family Therapists, Behavior Technicians, Children's' Book Authors, Interior Design, Home Businesses, Real Estate.
Significators: "Soon", Cancer, Sagittarius, Gemini, 20+, Fire, Musician, 10th House Sun or Moon, 1st House Moon, Mercury in 9th House, 4th House Stellium, Water Dominant, Pisces Moon, Cancer Midheaven, Libra, Saturnians.
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hiraya-rawr · 2 years
Text
little star — diluc 。
synopsis!! everyone knows the creator doesn't favor diluc (everyone is wrong).
cw !! gn reader, reader is peak diluc simp 😐 somewhat self-aware characters, mild sagau themes (not too much), reader is recognized as the player, reader is a little shy at first. angst with reverse comfort!
note !! the plot feels a little everywhere but i tried to organize it as best as i can, i think i got carried away eheh honestly doesn't feel up to my standards but it was pretty enjoyable to write
word count !! 2.8k something
"No, it's definitely Outrider Amber, she was the first to ever be favored."
"Are you kidding me? Outrider Amber may be the first, but sir Kaeya was definitely loved. Have you seen the sword he was gifted with?" One growls.
"It's the Acting Grand Master Jean!" Someone slams the table with his beer mug, "Twice was she bestowed with fallen stars of gold."
"I'd say that wolf boy in the woods seem lucky."
"It has to be Bennett. I don't know why but that kid has two crowns! Two!"
"You're all missing out on Miss Lisa!"
"Stop, stop! You rowdy drunks! Every vision holder in Mond has been granted favor, this is just impossible to decide!"
There was a pause. "Well. . . not every." Someone mumbles under their breath.
"Not every? Who's the poor allogene that couldn't even get the Player's favo—" Shushing sounds break his sentence, the men glare at their companion, pointing to the redhead behind the bar.
It's useless, really.
Diluc has been listening in the entire time. He can't really help it when their voices were loud enough to reach where he stood. Still, he was merciful and pretended not to hear. He's not exactly bothered by what they're saying. It was the truth, after all.
For two years, vision holders all around Teyvat were being granted favor.
It often begins with a meteor shower gracing the sky.
A star gently falling into the hands of a vision holder, embracing them in warm light.
They call the ethereal sensation as something akin to "coming home".
The favored would then be given different things; quality weapons, enhanced abilities, beautiful crowns— Some allogenes were even gifted summer apparel (Mondstadt is proud that their Gunnhildr sisters were one of the very first). Even their equipped wings would change into ornamented works of art!
It's been two years, and it seems like every allogene he knows of has received the Player's grace.
He supposed he just wasn't favored. It isn't too difficult to believe that he isn't likable.
He convinces himself it's fine.
It's fine if his summoned weapon is a cheap claymore made of scrap metal. It's still efficient to have the extra blade while he manually carries around another claymore (commissioned from Wagner as the best money could buy). Or that his abilities can only be improved through hardwork, unlike the many who broke the limits of their power through your favor.
It's fine.
As the bar goers leave for the night, as Venti and Kaeya wave around their almost divine-looking five-star weapons to show the crowd, and as he's closing up the tavern and retreating to his upstair quarters for comfort, he convinces himself that the he'll be okay on his own.
The arrival of the Creator was festive and grand; The day the sky parted itself and glowed as the brightest of all stars fell with grace into Mondstadt's very own Windrise.
Teyvat rejoices in the ecstatic ideal of being loved.
A meeting of vision holders was quickly held in the Cathedral, discussing immediate plans as some of the most favored (Venti, Jean, Kaeya, Albedo to name a few) went ahead to fetch the Creator from the large tree.
While Diluc was often the center of any other meeting due to his authority and influence, this was something he chose to step back from. Standing by the windows, away from the meeting, he watched on as Eula and the rest conversed around the circular table.
He isn't even sure why he's invited. Perhaps they felt it was obligatory for vision holders, regardless of favorability? Then again, he could always offer a fraction of his mountain-loads of wealth to help with the festivities.
At least he's competent at being a wallet.
As the others pull out their crowns and stars, weapons and artifacts, eager to thank the one responsible for the gifts, an unknown emotion bubbles in his stomach. It's faint, but it's there.
He tries to look away.
"Everyone, everyone! They're entering the gates!" Fischl announces uncharacteristically to the room as her eye glows brightly, undoubtedly looking through Oz's eyes from the sky.
"We should wait by the statue to welcome them, right?" Barbara chirps in, hands clasped and wavy hair bouncing with every step.
Diluc watches as people steadily leave the room, following last as they walk down the steps to greet the approaching group. Some civilians gathered to see the scene, others didn't really understand what a Player or Creator was to a vision holder, while Diluc—
Diluc stood by the steps to see them crowd around you.
You, surrounded with words of gratitude and cheerful squeals. He sees the smile on your face and feels relief that you don't seem too overwhelmed.
He leaves the area without a second thought.
He doesn't exactly see you around the next few days. With Mondstadt celebrating a new festival, the taverns were always full and busy with customers (both local and foreign). You were probably busy too, spending time with the different allogenes and entertaining those who came from Liyue to meet you. He's heard of a funeral consultant with three crowns (are consultants that admirable of a job to you?) and an adeptus gifted with various five-star polearms (this was understandable for the adepti, unlike the consultant).
He doesn't expect to see you at all until you leave for the next nation, honestly.
That is, until the tavern settles into a more peaceful atmosphere and Jean rushes in with several other allogenes. It's unusual to see his childhood friend in the tavern; still, he greets her amicably and asks what brings her here.
"(Name) will be coming here soon with Kaeya and a few others. It's a little impromptu, but we were hoping for a place to settle in with drinks. Perhaps try some apple cider." She smiles, taking a seat by the bar.
(Name)? Jean was already on a first name basis with the Creator?
Diluc thinks perhaps Jean truly is the favorite, she does have a few golden stars in her home.
Somehow, it's not surprising at all to know that his apple cider was famous enough to drag you in. At least there's something about the Dawn Winery in your favor. He promptly gets his employees to work, clearing a few tables near the bar, rearranging the furniture to give space good enough for a group.
Your entrance into the bar was just as lively; with your favored allogenes chatting away with you, everyone falling into place at different parts of the tavern, ordering drinks and meals.
He's glad you enjoy apple cider.
You're trying to play it cool, really. Trying your best not to get overexcited and glomp everyone and everything.
You're taking things step by step as you converse with Jean, Lisa, and Albedo; as you share meals with Barbara and Sucrose; as you play with Klee and Diona; tour the city with Fischl and Bennett. There's plenty of time to meet everyone and your schedule has been filled to the brim with all the fun your having.
You'll see that glimpse of red hair again— one that was lingering by the Cathedral staircase. Diluc doesn't like crowds, so it's fine that he isn't approaching you. It's also fine that he hasn't visited at least once, unlike the several raging from Liyue to Sumeru who took the journey to meet you early.
Diluc is too busy a person to meet you; whether it's because of the winery or his darknight hero duties, you wouldn't dare take his time.
— but when are you supposed to give him all the gifts you've brought for him???
Your determination to build him up in one go, from Talent levels to Constellations to Artifacts and Weaponry, all came down to this moment — and the man was simply nowhere to be seen!
An unknowingly loud sigh escapes your lips, catching the attention of the Cavalry Captain next to you.
"Now, what's got our (Name) so down in the dumps?" Kaeya hums, glancing at your face as you stutter a response.
"Aah it's not that, it's just. . ."
Your brother is too busy, I just want to meet him!!
"I'm thirsty." You deflect, looking around for a stall. The streets of Mond were nothing like the minimized version you see in the game; with the city being ten times larger than what you remembered it to be.
"Oh! Oh! Klee suggests apple cider!" The little girl giggles, running around your legs in excitement, "Angel's Share is nearby and big brother Albedo alwaaays takes me there for apple cider!"
Angel's Share. Bartender. A great idea has appeared!
At the excited look on your face, Jean walks up ahead of you.
"Why don't I go and inform the tavern to prepare us a space first, it would save us the waiting time."
"That would be great, Jean!"
You hope you aren't being too obvious.
With the way your eyes would linger on him, casting side glances and hoping he would greet you to strike up a conversation, the way most allogenes do. You didn't want to abruptly disturb his work, nor do you want seem desperate, so you waited for his initiative.
Yet, Diluc lingers just a little outside your group's circle. Your food and drinks were refilled by Charles, you've talked with nearly everyone but the person you want to talk to.
"It's getting pretty late, we should head home for the night." Someone suggests.
What?
No!
"Hm? Do you still have something in mind?" Kaeya asks. You realized you said it out loud, catching the attention of nearby patrons.
With a frantic glance around the tavern, your eyes make contact with Diluc's. He pauses as well, wondering what caused your little outburst.
You are definitely not leaving, not when you don't know when you could catch Diluc in his free time again! You'd be leaving for Liyue by then!
Hands slamming the table to stand up and with a small burst of courage, you approach the bartender who turns away from Charles. He raises an eyebrow at your approach. It's odd the way you feel flustered and nervous, finally facing him.
Pausing just in front of him, he looks on curiously.
"Would you like a refill?" He asks.
"A-ah no, I mean, yes but that's not why I'm here. I. . ." You stutter, stumbling over your words as you try not to behave awkwardly. Should you start with a casual topic?
"You seem to be quite busy." You say.
Diluc blinks. He isn't sure what you're implying. Neither is Kaeya or Jean, who stopped to look at the exchange of words.
"I suppose. . . but as a winery, we do thrive in impromptu festivities." He replies curtly before realizing, was it rude that he never visited the Creator?
"Ah, is it my lack of visit? I apologize, I would have visited but it seems that you were quite satisfied with your favorites and-"
"No, no, no," You wave your hand, cutting him off, "I understand you're busy. You don't have to visit at all! How could I take your time��� wait," You pause, recalling his words.
"Favorites?" You tilt your head, "What do you mean I seemed satisfied with my favorites? What do you mean by favorites?"
"Your favorites... allogenes who received your favor. Those you have granted gifts."
Your jaw laxes. Favorites? They decided you play favorites based on how much you've built them?
"You think. . ." You say carefully, not wanting to hurt anyone's feelings, "That I offer gifts to my favorites?"
Diluc nods slowly, unsure of your questioning.
Although it would be a lie to say you didn't have your personal favorites, it would still be inaccurate that it's based on gifts. After all, you built everyone who came home by chance. As an avid player, you did your best to farm and push everyone to their full potential.
Diluc, however, never came home no matter how much you wanted him to. It can't be possible that he doesn't know how much he is loved, right?
"Then what about you?" You blurt out, "How do you think I view you?"
He stares at you oddly. At this point, many around you had stopped to tune in. Everyone knew Master Diluc never received your favor, so why are you conversing with him?
Meanwhile, Diluc wonders if you want him to admit it. Must he say it in front of everyone how he never received gifts?
"I suppose. . . I'm not one of them. It's quite understandable. I don't intend to question your judgement—"
"What?" You exclaim, a look of shock crosses your face, "You think I don't like you?" Voice raised in disbelief, you feel the eyes of many turning to watch the scene.
Diluc mirrors your confusion.
"I can't believe you would– no, that isn't it at all!" You stutter over your words, a frantic need to prove him wrong goes through you, "You— you of all people!"
"Me?" He repeats.
"I've always wanted you!"
A silence settles over the tavern. Did you have to put it so bluntly? You freeze in shock at your own words. Diluc's expression of disbelief turns flustered, face turning as red as his hair.
Explain yourself.
"I- I mean, I've always wanted you to come home. Ever since the start, really! It's just that you never did-"
"Hmm... so it implies that it's out of your control, correct?" Kaeya piqued, looking on curiously. He's been listening in the entire time. You nod your head.
"Yes! It's a game of chance for me as well. It's not to say that favor is an accident, I truly wanted everyone to come home! It's just that—" You turn to Diluc, "You never did, no matter how much I wanted you to. How was I supposed to give you your gifts?"
Diluc snaps out of his shock, blinking at you, "Gifts?"
"Yes, gifts! I've been saving them up for you, ever since the start." You pause, shyly looking away, "When I said I wanted you since the beginning I meant it. I came here for you, after all."
He looks at you in disbelief, and probably half the tavern as well. You can't help the small chuckle from your lips. With an outstretched hand, something materializes between you. It glows a blinding golden light, before settling to reveal–
"Wolf's Gravestone. It's a weapon for you."
You didn't have to say it— anyone with eyes could see how it was practically made for Diluc. With large handles and a color scheme that matches his own, Wolf's gravestone doesn't look as divine or ethereal as the other weapons you've gifted, but it looked just as powerful, if not menacing.
With a gesture, Diluc grips the handle.
"Fits like a glove." Kaeya whistles, impressed. As does the rest of the tavern who stopped to stare.
Suddenly, flames burst forth from the weapon. It sears and glows red. Unlike the common claymore that can't handle the the prowess of Diluc's flames, Wolf's Gravestone embraces it. Like an extension of his own hand.
He breaks his gaze away from the weapon to look at you.
"Thank you. . ." He mutters softly, but it's genuine. You smile.
"That's not the last of it, you know."
"What?"
With another flick of your hand, artifacts and talent books materialize. They flow around him like a dance as more and more begin to appear, lighting up the tavern like the night sky.
"I told you I brought gifts!"
All the days spent farming for him and other pyro characters finally paid off. The glimmering artifacts reflected in his own red eyes as he stares, entranced.
Favor did not come to him in meteor showers like it did to the other allogenes; rather, it came to him in your form. Proof of him being loved. The spectacle continued— after the artifacts and talent levels were the constellation (the crowd ooh'ed and aah'ed at the sight), then came the five star apparel (a nostalgic sight to him, and it changed his flames to a darker red), and the ascension materials you passed off as trinkets.
By the end of it, he had a hand over his lower face, his red bangs hid just the ends of his eyes. "I just thought I wasn't that favorable. . ." He muttered and you leaned in to peek at his covered face, wondering why he was shying away.
But it was evident to the tavern— the pink dusted ears, the flushed cheeks, and the overwhelming emotion in his eyes. Diluc Ragnvindr was flustered, and it's a sight enough to make even the drunks place down their beers for a closer look.
You bit your lip, trying to prevent the widest of smiles, "Do you believe yourself loved now?" You ask and he gives the faintest of nods.
"Thank you," He says, "For favoring me."
m.list 2 || consider supporting me on ko-fi ! || sagau m.list
note !! THIS WAS SUPPOSED TO BE a very short brainrot that became a fic huhuhuhu
I don't often write creator sagau themes but here we are! this is like peak diluc simpery idk ive never been this down for a man. i wrote this immediately after getting his skin i just got so excited 😅 I wanted to spoil him so bad (but i gave all his mats to thoma before he came home :< )
taglist !! @absolut-wildflower @boundedbyfate @sadlonelybagel @eissaaaa @ladycoleigh @nejibot @milkypompon @bloodreaper08 @irethepotato @x-zho @roriver @mich-cola @mxsomn @ackrylik @nicebonescomrade @starforecasts @stygianoir @yuminako @eccedentesiast-sapphic @nebulaera @nuttytani @klutzkat @shizunxie
8K notes · View notes
beelmons · 1 year
Note
44. “I saw you naked once.  And now I can’t stop thinking about it.”
45. “How are you so oblivious?  I’m trying to tell you I’m fucking horny!” with spencer also he would literally memorize your body
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Mini skirts. Tight shirts. Clevage. Accidental falls on his lap. Caresses on the thigh. You had used every move on your book, albeit questionably outdated, to get his attention, and that wasn't even through out the week, it was just this morning.
You couldn't get Spencer Reid to look at you, let alone sleep with you. Regardless of how badly you wanted that. One would think with his ability to read body language he would have already noticed that you were practically oozing pheromones in his direction, like an animal in heat, and yet he continued to drift his sight whenever you bent over to obnoxiously pick up the eleventh pen you had dropped since you got to the office. Everyone else enjoyed the show, everyone but the one person it was directed to.
Needless to say, your mood took a hit. Scratch that, you were straight up sad. You had heard chatter from Penelope and JJ that he liked you, and you decided to go for it only to find out, allegedly, that he didn't have the least interest in you.
You mopped around the rest of the day, and you had changed into more comfortable clothes you carried on your go-bag; what was the point on looking hot if he wasn't even gonna notice? Time flew by and night fell, everyone went home on time, thank god, but you chose to stay behind. The only thing worse than being horny for your uninterested coworker was sitting at home alone masturbating to the thought of him.
"You're not leaving?" his voice startled you a bit, forcing you to look up from the file you were working on.
"No." you answered dryly, uncharacteristic of you "Got a lot of stuff to do."
He stood there with his usual awkward demeanor, the same one you found utterly adorable and annoyingly attractive. His hands fiddled with the strap of his bag, deciding whether to simply let you be or intervene in your clearly bad mood.
"Are you okay?" he asked doubtfully.
"You know what? I'm not." you, somehow, gathered the courage to say, you stood up from your desk and closed the folder annoyedly, your lower body rested against the edge of the surface, your arms folded over your chest "Do you even like me?" you asked.
"What? Of course I like you!" he blurted out desperately, dropping his bag to his side to hurriedly stand in front of you "I consdier us to be very good friends."
"That's not— " you had to stop yourself, there was no point in threading lightly around Spencer, you knew that "I have been trying to get your attention the entire day, and you won't even spare me a glance."
"I can't look at you while we're working! I immediately get—" he also had to force his voice to stop and lower, clearing his throat in the process, it was late but not that late, people could still be around. He took a deep breath in, trying his best not to perish out of embarrassment at his confession "One time, Hotch asked me to go get you for a briefing. You were in the locker rooms, it was an accident, I swear, I didn't expect to see you naked, but I did." his face had tinted a lovely red, and his hands were having a hard time keeping still "I can't stop thinking about it. If I as much as look at you, I will get excited."
You swallowed an anticipated knot in your throat, and a pulsating sensation took over your lower body.
"I'm pretty sure there's a way I could help you with that." you extended your arms to have them laying on his shoulders, promptly wrapping them around his neck.
"There is, actually, you could start buttoning your shirts properly." he said, and you had to roll your eyes.
Instead of saying something else, you tugged him forward to let your lips land on the side of his jawline. He lost his balance for a second, having to press his palm against the desk for support. Soft moans were coming out from his lips at the licks and gentle sucks you would take on his skin trailing down his neck.
"How oblivious can you be?" you muttered against his skin before moving to his mouth, your teeth dragging his bottom in a playful nibble "I'm trying to tell you that I'm fucking horny."
Your words barely had left your mouth before he was attacking it with his own. His hips pressed forward and you could feel the harded bulge rub against your thighs.
It was the rustling of his belt being pulled open what let you know you had finally cracked Spencer Reid, and you were in for a good night of being rewarded for that.
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princessbrunette · 2 months
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okay so hi! i wanted to send in a lil jj and rafe prompt myself for the kook princess.
so i lowkey think that she gets tired of the beefing one day and she’s just all upset because she doesn’t know what to do or who to chose in this whole situation, so she just pulls a “if i can’t have you both i don’t want either of you” which was hard enough for her to do anyway because let’s be so real standing on business with RAFE & JJ is hell in itself. so she like really stands on business doesn’t come around either of them avoiding parties the whole nine until she ends up needing to go to midsommars or something kinda much like kie in season one her parents are making her go, so word gets around fast that she’s going because people haven’t seen her in a while and jj leaps on the opportunity to work with pope & heyward, so he can see her and obviously rafe is gonna be there regardless. she doesn’t come until late which gave rafe and jj enough time to at least come to a certain level of an agreement, she still avoids them all night staying with her parents and drifting to sarah whenever she got the opportunity. so she finally ends up going to the bathroom and they basically corner her (teamwork 🤣) and they talk to her and they both end up fucking her in the stall.
this!!!!! this is perfect. i never brought the two of them together bc i just thought it was too unlikely because they really don’t like eachother — but if they’re kinda forced together by reader giving them no other choice it seems more likely.
˚ ༘ ೀ⋆𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪
jj practically jumps you in the corridor, appearing frantically infront of you in his lil waiter get up and starts dragging you to the bathroom.
“jj, no — i already told you—”
“just five minutes just — just hear me out for five minutes okay — c’mon, in you go, chop chop.” he pushes you into the bathroom before turning round and blinking at passersby who worriedly witnessed the low level kidnap. “nothin’ to see here alright just, carry on…” he excuses awkwardly before closing the door.
upon entering, to your surprise rafe is stood in the centre of the room with his hands in his pockets and lips pursed like he was forced to be there too. he perks up a little on your entry, eyeing you over. he speaks your name and you glance between the two boys nervously.
“damn, you— you look really beautiful i mean—” rafe begins as he edges towards you and you all but nearly stomp your foot, pointing to him with an angry pout.
“don’t!”
the oldest boy holds his hands up, slowing his pace as he approaches you, showing he comes in peace. “alright, alright… look we… just wanted to talk to you. ‘that okay?”
your eyes slide over to jj, who’s gazing at you with this desperate plea that makes you soften a little. you cross your arms and nod, and naturally the boys close in on you, shielding you from the rest of the room.
“trust me, okay— the last thing i wanna do is share you with rafe freaking cameron but,” the blonde runs a hand through his hair frustratedly as the cameron rolls his eyes. “you went goddamn… radio silent on us and i was worried, okay? are you seeing the level of concern you caused right now? ‘cus i’m standing next to rafe and my hands aren’t around his neck—”
“yeah like you could reach, buddy.”
“i’m like three inches shorter than you asshole i’on even wanna hear it right now ‘cus—”
“guys.” you interject sulkily, huffing a sigh out your nose.
“sorry, sorry— yes, so uh— to cut this thing short, maybe until you like, make a decision or whatever… we can alternate weeks with you?”
you gaze up at them from beneath your lashes unsurely. “like… you get me this week rafe gets me next week… and so on?”
“yeah i’m not thrilled about this guy gettin’ you at all but i’ll… i’ll take it.” rafe scuffs his shoe on the floor, uncharacteristically bashfully.
you think, and honestly as it was the best case scenario you nod, gaze flickering between the two of them.
“okay… just… want you both. missed you.” you don’t know who to look at, so you cement your stare to your shoes. there’s some shuffling of feet through the tense silence before you feel a pair of fingers gripping your jaw lightly, tilting your head up to them.
“look… why don’t you uh, why don’t you give maybank here a little kiss. alright? i’m— i’m actively showin’ you i’m cool with it.”
even jj’s brows lift in surprise, licking over his rubied lips as he watches you for permission. you let rafe’s hand drag you closer, before bringing your mouth to jj’s, locking lips. rafe’s hand switches to cup the back of your head, supposedly feeling this was the most control he could have in the situation. his eyes flutter in irritation as he watches jj slip you tongue and after a moment he pulls you back, immediately bringing your mouth to his— to kiss you sloppier and dirtier than the blonde.
jj’s eyes roll, licking over his lips once more. “jesus, dude — okay.”
you let out a pleased moan after a moment, just happy to have your favourite boys back with you, this time together — and rafe tugs you back with a smug smirk. you watch his eyes flutter up to the cubicle behind you, before his gaze moves to jj.
“get the door, yeah busboy?” he slaps jj on the back, and with his tongue in his cheek — he pushes the cubicle door open for the three of you to fit inside.
“watch it, douche.” he glares as rafe leads you in. it’s a squeeze, but it’ll do for now. the competitive nature in them both was flared up to ten, set on using this time as a way to prove themselves to you.
˚ ༘ ೀ⋆𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪
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mykoreanlove · 4 months
Text
whispers of love
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Felix was snuggled in bed with you, hugging you from behind. The smell of his favorite brownies still lingered on him, almost as sweet as his kisses on you. You squirmed in his embrace as his lips tickled the sensitive skin on your neck. “Lixie, stop that”, you laughed warmly. “Hell no”, he retorted and kissed you some more. The sensations were too much to bear, so you wriggled yourself out of his embrace and turned to face him directly.
“Hi”, he said and placed a kiss on the top of your nose. A warmth you had never felt before spread through your whole body. You relaxed, smiled some more and looked at him. This was your first time being with someone who saw all of you and decided to stay. Being with Felix made your heart flutter in the best ways and that was something you were grateful for every single day.
“You look so beautiful right now, baby cakes.” He gazed at you with a mixture of longing and infatuation. Felix grabbed your hand and positioned it to his lips, placing a chest kiss on your knuckles. “There is something I want to say to you, y/n. Actually, I already said it a lot of times, but you were always asleep, so now’s the moment.” He paused for a second, carefully selecting his next words.
“I love you.”
Butterflies were joined by all other animals as well, turning your stomach into a zoo. Your heart raced. Your brain thought a thousand thoughts per second. Your throat was dry.
“Love? You love me?”
Felix chuckled; he had already anticipated that reaction. No matter how much he tried and showed his love for you, you still had trouble accepting it. “Yes, love. I love you.”
“But” your brain instantly presented a myriad of reasons as to why he shouldn’t do that. “But, how? I am just a normal person.”
For a split second you noticed him scrunch his face. He hated it when you talked down on yourself. He hated it when you thought less of yourself because of the dumbest reasons. He hated it when you hated yourself. By now he understood though, that arguing against you was fruitless – this was a journey you had to go on by yourself. Felix chose to stand by your side and hold your hand though.
“Don’t care. I love you.”
“But I’m not in the best shape right now.” He placed another kiss on your knuckles. “I love you.”
“Felix, what do you mean? I am a mess. I have anxiety every other day.” He squeezed your hand. “I still love you.”
You turned on your back and thought about all this while he was still holding your hand. How could he love me when I’m not perfect?
You thought hard, you had to present him with all the facts, so he could make a rational decision. Eagerly, you turned around again.
“Lix, I have health struggles.”
“Don’t care. I love you.”
“But I always assume the worst and get anxious.”
“I love you regardless.”
“But I.. I have debt I need to pay off!”
“Fine by me. I love you.”
Your brain fought hard. Surely, there had to be a reason that would scare him off.
“I got scammed once because I trusted those assholes blindly.”
“I love you.”
“I was bullied when I was younger. I was never a cool kid!”
“I love you.”
“It’s hard for me to control my emotions and I get overwhelmed a lot.”
“Still love you.”
“I got rejected a million of times – I’m really not the one you fall in love with.
Felix took a deep breath, trying to remain calm for the both of you.
“I love you, y/n.”
“But” – he interrupted you this time.
“I love you. You can think of every reason, you could invent any reason – I don’t care. I. LOVE. YOU. All of you. The good, the bad, the ugly. I love you.”
He stopped talking for a second and gave you time to process all of this. The confusion on your face was evident, which irked him but he was sure that someday you’d be able to love yourself like he did.
You took a good look at him – everything he said sounded so sincere. The look on his face was truthful and loving.
“Are you sure?”, you mumbled silently. Felix laughed out happily. “Yes, y/n. I am sure. I love you. I loved you yesterday and I will love you tomorrow. Now turn around and let me cuddle you, so we can fall asleep. Okay?”
Happiness and astonishment were dominant within you right now but you did what he said. You turned around and felt his strong arms around you again, comforting you like they always did. You closed your eyes and took a calming breath, you really needed to sleep. Felix’ lips brushed your ear once more and you fell asleep to him whispering his love for you.
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merakiui · 2 months
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Hello! Could I request flower bouquet from the miscellaneous menu.. And as for the dynamic, I'm quite indecisive on that regard, but I recall you saying it's fine to let you chose? Forgive me if I'm wrong. I'd like to order that with red velvet cupcakes & banana pudding from the midnight menu for Jade Leech, with an AFAB reader. If you are unable to do this, it is completely understandable. I hope your day/night goes well, and may you take care.
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yandere!jade leech x (female) reader cw: yandere, nsfw, non-con, unhealthy behaviors/relationship, kidnapping, slight angst, royalty au (princess!reader x butler!jade) note - thank you for checking in, dearest guest! enjoy your order! [lunar love hotel]
It’s well past midnight when Jade finds you in the garden. He spots you milling about aimlessly beneath a stone archway. Greenery twists up the rough surface; vines spotted with tiny flowers drape like fruit from a bough. Moonlight paints you in strokes of silvery magnificence, a breathtaking sight even the most skillful painter could never hope to replicate on a canvas. Even though it’s the middle of summer, there’s a fierce bite to tonight’s temperature. It’s in his nature to protect, a bodyguard and a butler in one, which is precisely why he frets when he notices you’re dressed in a thin nightgown and a silk robe.
You’re stunning regardless of your attire. He’s always thought so. A hopeless observation, for you have never belonged to him and thus those words will remain a scandal under lock and key.
“My lady?” He approaches with even steps, his voice a gentle whisper. Despite his best efforts, you still flinch at his sudden arrival. He bows respectfully, a hand held over his heart. “Forgive me for startling you. I noticed you weren’t in bed when I came to check on you, and so I thought I might find you here.”
“Am I really so predictable?”
“Quite.” He chuckles at the pout that twists on your lips. “Admittedly, my advantage is rather unfair. I’ve known you long enough to commit all of your habits and haunts to memory.”
“You’re too good. It’s not fair…”
“Is everything all right?” Jade moves to shrug his tailcoat off, aiming to drape it across your shoulders for extra layering, but you stop him. “My lady?”
“I’m not cold. Thank you, though.”
Jade nods slowly and slides his arms back into the sleeves. “May I ask what’s keeping you up? It’s unlike you to visit the garden so late.”
“It’s nothing major. Just thinking too much about too many things. If that makes any sense…”
He hums in acknowledgement. You fidget on your bare feet. Some days Jade thinks you’d wander to your death if it weren’t for him. Having suspected this, he made sure to bring your shoes. Guiding you to the marble bench at the end of the pathway, where the space opens into a clearing enclosed with shaped shrubbery, Jade lowers to his knees.
“A princess shouldn’t dirty her feet so carelessly,” he reminds you, taking hold of your foot and gingerly sliding your shoe on.
You frown at him. “Does it matter?”
“In polite society, yes, very much so.”
“Polite society is the worst. How am I meant to frolic in the flowers as the fairy tales intended if I can’t even take my shoes off for such a thing?”
“You may do so in your dreams.”
“It’s not the same.”
Jade gazes at your legs from where he kneels. Should his gaze climb any higher… He snuffs that thought before it can take root. “Perhaps not, but the world within a dream is lenient and lawless. You’re free to break every rule you desire.”
He offers you his arm and you take it. Lifting you from the bench, he walks with you and admires lush blossoms alongside you. Sweet is the night breeze, bringing recollections of a childhood that has long since fled. Watching you, future heir to the throne, from afar, an unimportant butler-in-training… You’ve always been his world—the center of his vision. The single flower in a garden infested with weeds.
What he’d do to pick you and put you in a pot of his own making. To keep you solely because it is the whim of a selfish heart caught up in foolish, one-sided limerence.
“What would you do? In your dreams, I mean. If you could experience any dream, what would it be?”
Jade peers at you, taken aback. “You’re asking me?”
“No, I’m asking the flowers.” Playfully, you reach up to pat his head. He leans down to meet your hand halfway, a smile gracing his features. How fervently he wishes you would touch him with more purpose. If only your individual stations were not so far apart. If only he could become your equal just for tonight and know rapture under your fingertips. “Yes, Jade, I’m asking you.”
It’s not a calculated risk, for he knows the outcome will never be in his favor, but he acts on impulse anyway. He seizes your hand. You flinch away, surprised by this forthright display, but he holds firm. He’s determined to see this through to the end, even if it lands him a heart more shattered than when he began.
“I would become a prince and marry you.”
Much to his chagrin, you laugh. “That’s quite the lofty dream. A funny one, too.”
He squeezes your hand, insistent. “That is the truth.”
“It’s not.” You meet his mismatched stare. “It… It’s not, right? Surely you jest.”
“I have always admired you, my lady.” Testing his limits, he brings your hand to his lips and kisses your knuckles. “Though you may be forever out of my reach and I may be but a mere servant, that does not stop me from loving you any less.”
Your face falls. There is no reciprocation to be found in your gaze. He suspected this from the beginning, but it does nothing to soothe the sting.
He grasps your other hand, hoping to bestow a kiss to it as well, but you jerk away so quickly that you trip over your feet and land in a heap on the grass. He doesn’t make any move to help you up. Not yet, at least. Lying sprawled on your back, you watch him with uncertain eyes.
“How long?”
“The day your father rescued me and brought me in—you offered your hand to me, and you told me I would never know the dangers of the sea again.” Jade stands over you, observing the many emotions flickering on your face, before lowering to your height. He straddles you with ease. “I had never known such kindness until then.”
“Ah, right… I remember that day. You were injured so severely they put you on bedrest. You had to learn how to walk all over again.”
“In spite of everything they told you about me, you visited me regardless. Every day, at every hour, to bring snacks and toys. To cheer me up. To wish for my swift recovery. To act as my crutch. For that, I am forever grateful.” His hands slide your nightgown up, and he feasts on the sight of your panties—on the way you draw your thighs together to hide from him. “I have always stood dutifully by your side, hoping to repay you for all that you’ve done for me.”
You look delicate in the grass, your robe slipping from your shoulders. Like a pinned butterfly or an angel having just fallen from the sky, you’re a sugared fantasy brought to life.
“Jade.” You grab at his shoulders and push back weakly; he doesn’t budge. “We… We shouldn’t. I can’t. If someone were to see—”
“They won’t.”
“Yes, but I—” you turn away from him, worrying your lip between your teeth— “I can’t, Jade… I’m betrothed. F-Furthermore, it’s not safe without…protection. You can’t.”
He smiles fondly, so sickly, stupidly enchanted. With the moon just behind his head, framing it like a hazy halo, you might mistake him for an angel. His actions suggest he’s anything but.
Lifting his index finger to his lips, he shushes you. “In that case, let’s play pretend for tonight—just as we used to—and trap ourselves in a dream.”
Your refusal falls on deaf ears.
Hands crawl along the expanse of your body, feeling everything within reach. He’s overjoyed to behold you, to press down on the space between your legs and savor your staggered breaths. You plead with him all throughout it, begging him to cease now and he’ll be spared. But Jade can’t. If it kills him, he wants to have died knowing he was on cloud nine.
This has always been his dream.
For tonight, he is neither prince nor butler. For tonight, he is simply a monster—the same monster your maids warned you against when you were little: “That cursed child is no good. He will bring ruin to your father—to you, Your Highness. You must keep away, for a child of the sea is a child of destruction and agony.”
The same monster who looked on with a single golden eye, lying in wait like the perfect predator and wearing the skin of a human to hide his true identity. The same monster who took to training as if it were second nature, honing his skills as a butler and a bodyguard. Hardening a heart that has never had the capacity to care for anything other than himself and the ones who have since departed.
The same monster who loves the human he ought to hate, for it is your kind who hunt the waters he was conceived in. Who spear merfolk with harpoons and feast on their flesh and eggs like it’s a sacred delicacy. Who arrange their skeletons in aureate frames. Who mount their taxidermied tails to the wall.
The same monster who, in some distant fairy tale, could have been a king if not for the devastation of his family tree.
Dewy grass sticks to your skin. The scent of moist earth envelops you in its verdant embrace. Jade sinks in slowly, holding you down by your hips. You squirm and cry, but he persists. He could be cruel and callous, rut into you like an animal instead of a lover, but he refrains. He loves you too much, and that hurts more than any pain he could inflict on you.
You dig your nails into his shoulders. If they were sharper, you might have been able to tear through his uniform. Sweet, soft moans spill from pretty, plush lips. He kisses you, adoring the hold your walls have on him when he rolls his hips to fill you deeper.
“Jade… Jade, please,” you ramble, breathing hot and heavy in his ears. It’s musical, the way you sing for him through your tears. “Oh, please pull out. I—aah—can’t… We can’t. Please, Jade.”
Perhaps it would have been easier to hate you and your father—detest the kingdom who has rendered his home an aquatic graveyard. Surrounded in a garden of exotic blooms, Jade thinks that’s impossible. Love born from hate is thorny, impossible to quell once it’s come to fruition. It’s dug its roots into his heart and given way to the most fearsome flower.
He should have killed you. He should have held that pillow over your face all those years ago when he snuck into your bedroom, silent as a shadow. He should have, but he didn’t—couldn’t. And now he’s here, towering over you without the pillow. His hands stray towards your throat, but instead of an execution he drags you against his chest. He can’t.
Years later and he still can’t fulfill his one and only childhood dream.
“You’re beautiful,” he whispers, his eyes glittering. “How I wish you were as ugly as your heart…”
Raindrops spatter your face, a quiet downpour spilling from heterochromatic hues.
You fall apart beneath him, ruined in ways polite society would deem grossly impure.
Now we’re the same, Jade thinks, bowing his head when he reaches his peak. He groans lowly, his eyes squeezed shut. Monsters without homes.
Come morning, the palace is in a panic. The princess has vanished, seemingly whisked away into the night, and the only one who may have any information on her whereabouts has gone with her. Jade doesn’t worry.
No one will find you at the bottom of the sea, unrecognizable as a mermaid in an abandoned coral kingdom.
On his empty throne, he knows of no better place.
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farfromstrange · 8 months
Text
Just Let Me Love You | Matt Murdock x Reader
Masterlist
Pairing: Matt Murdock x Reader (f!Reader heavily implied)
Summary: You're struggling with your body image and Matt notices
Warnings: Angst, TW: allusions to an ED, self-deprecating talk (Reader has internalized fatphobia toward herself), not proof red (I was too emotional for that)
Word Count: 2.1k
A/n: So, my body is changing and I hate it. As someone who was the Fat Funny Friend growing up, I got inspired by the song. Now I wasn't sure if to tag for a plus-sized reader because when I wrote this, I had myself in mind, and I'm not even sure what "category" I fall into, so this is pretty universal and I think any of you who are struggling with body dysmorphia might appreciate this. Heed the warnings before proceeding and don't forget to eat if you haven't already! (Also, I used my tag list to tag for this, but don't read it if this triggers you, please!)
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Our brains are wired to function in a certain way. But not every brain is balanced in chemistry. 
For the longest time, she thought there was something seriously wrong with her. She never fit in anywhere, so she tried to make herself fit. Change her attitude, change her behavior, change her hobbies, and change the way she looks. She did it so many times, she lost count. 
She relied on humor, telling funny little anecdotes to make whatever friend group she was a part of at the time laugh at her. But that was all she could do. Make them laugh. She lit up the mood, lit up the room, but she seemingly never lit up anyone’s heart the way her friends did. 
They talked about their relationships, talked about their families and friends, and she played along. She listened. When she talked about her likes, they pretended to care, but within minutes, they lost interest. She thought it just wasn’t that important. Not as important as how beautiful they all were, anyway. And they were striking, she thought. That’s why everyone always chose them and never approached her. But she swallowed it to at least be a part of something. 
She always helped everyone but herself. She was there when no one else was, but even when she was a part of something, she never fully fit in. There was an impossible standard looming over her head, and she couldn’t possibly reach it. 
Don’t be too loud. Don’t be too silly. Don’t say no. Don’t talk about your problems, only listen to everyone else’s. Don’t believe that he wants you because he is too good for you, and all he wants is your best friend who is ten times prettier than you. And don’t believe that personality and humor will get you anywhere; you will end up miserably alone the same way people who look like you always will. 
The same voice, over and over again. Word turning into knives. It was exhausting to fight against the demons within her because they just sounded so damn convincing. 
When she met him, the man who stole her heart, she never thought he would ask her out. When he did, she was dumbfounded. In every possible situation, he found himself assuring her that he wouldn’t drop her for the pretty blonde in the office, or his psychotic ex-girlfriend who just happened to have the most beautiful body known to man. To her, at least. Everyone around him was just so beautiful, and he was even more so–he was the prettiest specimen in the world, and everyone desired him. Of course, she grew insecure. She couldn’t help it. It was a reflex.
She fell in love with a man who finally saw her for who she was and he loved her despite—no, he loved her regardless. For who she was. He took her, accepted her, and began seeing her as the most beautiful person in the world. For the first time, she felt appreciated, loved, and not so miserably alone. 
Yet, the fear continued to linger. The fear that one day, he would notice that perhaps, a woman of average looks wouldn’t be enough for him anymore. That she was, indeed, as unconventionally unattractive as everyone said she was from the first day she actually understood what was being said to her. She was just a child then. 
The funny friend. The awkward friend. The weird one. The girl without real friends. The girl with the silly clothes, the silly smile, the slightly crooked teeth, the belly pouch… The girl who lost weight, the girl who gained weight, and the girl who shouldn’t be so proud of herself because she had nothing to be proud of. 
“Sweetheart?” he asked her, yanking her out of the downward spiral that only continued to get worse over time. “Did you have anything to eat yet?”
He stood in the kitchen, the sleeves of his dress shirt bunched around his elbow. It was hot outside, too hot for her liking, and even his clothes were slightly stained with sweat. 
She looked up from the couch, still wrapped up in a blanket despite the high temperatures, a book resting on her thighs. He met her eyes with a smile. 
“I noticed your leftovers are still in the fridge. Could smell them,” he clarified. “I was just wondering whether that was on purpose or not.”
Worrying fit it better, she thought to herself. He always worried too much. 
She closed her book. “I might’ve forgotten,” she said as if it was the most natural thing in the world. 
His eyebrows furrowed. “You forgot?” There was a hint of amusement in his voice, but it never reached his eyes. 
“Yeah. I probably got too caught up reading or something. It’s no big deal. I’ll eat later. Or drink another latte.”
He hummed. “You know, iced coffee is not considered a healthy diet. Your body needs fuel.”
“Jesus Christ, Matt,” she raised her voice, “I’m okay!”
“You don’t look okay,” he stated as a matter of fact. 
“And how would you know?”
“I just do.”
He approached, his muscles straining against his shirt. It wasn’t fair, how good he looked. How well he carried himself. And he still had the audacity to look at her and tell her she had much more going for herself than just her humor. That she was beautiful. Pretty enough. 
“Hey,” Matt lowered himself on the couch beside her, “What’s going on in that pretty little head of yours, huh?”
“I forgot to eat, I told you,” she said.
“I don’t believe you.”
“But it’s the truth.”
“Not if you did it on purpose.”
The book landed on the coffee table and she got up, pacing the small space of their shared apartment in the heart of Hell’s Kitchen. He could hear her heartbeat pounding against her ribcage, the pent-up tears, and the tension, and he wanted nothing more than to reach out. But he waited. He gave her the space she needed to collect her thoughts.
“I forgot,” she repeated. “At first. And then I just happened to pass by a mirror and…and I looked at myself. I mean, really looked at myself.”
“Oh–” He sighed. “Baby…”
“I’m smaller when my stomach is empty, you know. And I thought it wouldn’t hurt me to, uh…cut back a little?”
He was about to respond, but she cut him off. “I don’t mean that I’m starving myself. I just…I forgot to eat, and then, when I remembered, I remembered what I saw and I was just…I’m not hungry anymore. I…I don’t think it’s a big deal. I’m not doing it on purpose, I’m just…”
She stopped pacing. She met his unfocused hazel eyes that held so much pain when he looked at her. He reached out, not saying a word, and she extended her shaky fingers toward the lifeline he was throwing. 
“Oh, God,” she whispered. She realized then why he looked so hurt. “It’s getting bad again, isn’t it?”
The question hung in the room as he pulled her toward himself. 
She didn’t protest when he pulled her back onto the couch, his arms engulfing her and pulling her back against his sturdy chest.
“What makes you think that you need to hurt yourself to fit some unrealistic beauty standard?” he asked softly, his voice merely a breath tickling her ear. 
She whimpered, not wanting to answer. 
“What makes you think that not being healthy is the solution to the way you see yourself? Wouldn’t that just make it worse?”
“I just…” She took a deep breath. “I just… I just want to be enough.”
“But you are enough,” he answered in a heartbeat, placing his hand on her neck and turning her face to him. He missed her face with his gaze, but she could still feel him in every fiber of her being as he sat there and felt her pulse, and she matched her breathing to his. 
A tear rolled down her cheek. “You don’t understand what it’s like,” she whispered back. “You don’t understand what it’s like to be only seen as the comedic relief in every relationship you have ever been in while your friends pulled the guys you wanted. Because they never wanted you, and they never saw competition in you either because you were just never the center of anyone’s attention.”
He was silent for a moment. The taste of her tears reached his tongue, and he visibly recoiled at the pain she held inside of her. Matt pulled her closer, holding her a little tighter. She melted. 
Finally, after what felt like an eternity of leaving her to deal with her thoughts, he placed his lips against her ear again. “You’re the center of my attention,” he said. “Of my world. My universe. And I couldn’t care less about the way you look.”
“That’s because you’re blind,” she shot back, a sob rippling through her body. 
He shook his head. “No. Those who reduce you to your looks are blind, and they don’t even deserve you in the first place. What matters most is this–” his large hand found its way onto the left side of her chest, above her heart. “What’s in here is what makes you beautiful, not what covers the outside.”
“But that’s not enough, is it?”
“To me, it is.”
“Not to me, Matthew. Like I said, you don’t get it.”
She struggled against his grip, but he wouldn’t let her go. “Then let me rephrase it,” he tried again, pressing his hand further against her chest. “I care more about who you are inside because I love you. But I don’t need sight to appreciate your physical beauty along with the sound of your heartbeat. Your breathing. Your touch. You know why?”
She shook her head. “Enlighten me.”
“Because I can feel you, sweetheart, and you are the most breathtaking human being I have ever had the pleasure of laying my hands on.”
If words were enough to make a person pass out, this would surely have been her breaking point. 
“You mean that?” She turned around, her tears now glistening with a taste of hope. 
He brushed them away with his thumb and nodded. “Every last word.”
Her eyes fluttered closed at the ghost of his touch. “I don’t like my body,” the admission came quietly.
In response, Matt nodded. “I know, but you have nothing to be ashamed of. That body deserves to be loved. You deserve to be loved.”
“I feel like…like I don’t deserve you. I don’t want you to leave me for…for Karen.”
The mention of her name caused him to frown. “Karen?” he asked. She nodded. He sighed, forcing her head to his chest, forcing her to listen to his heartbeat the same way he always did to her. “Don’t even think like that,” he told her. “I would never leave you for someone else. For no one, for nothing. I need you to stop assuming that, sweetheart. It’s not true.”
“It feels true,” she cried. 
His lips brushed the crown of her head. “But it isn’t.”
“But–”
“I love you,” he said, a bit more insistent this time. “Only you. I would rather die than never be with you again. And I mean that. Bring me the poison and I’ll prove it to you. I’ll get on my knees and worship the ground you walk on if that’ll make you believe me, but I won’t leave you.”
She clung to him, her nails digging into his shirt. Matt shushed her, his fingers brushing through her hair. The rhythm was soothing. 
She sobbed until she had nothing left to give. She cried because she knew he was right. She knew she was overthinking, but she was powerless to fight it. He was the only one who could open her eyes, and even then, she more often than not slipped away. She hated it. She hated the way her brain was wired, the things she was taught, and the things she continuously and wrongly kept teaching herself. 
Eventually, though, she slacked in his arms. 
“I don’t really like myself right now,” she confessed. “But I don’t know how to stop it.”
Matt chuckled softly, his chest rumbling. He tilted her chin up. “Then let me help you,” he said. 
“How?” she asked. 
He leaned down, his lips brushing against hers in a gentle kiss. “Just let me love you.” 
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Tagging from Matt Murdock Tag List: @acharliecoxedfan @gpenguin666 @linamarr @itwasthereaminuteago @mattkinsella @norestfortheshelbywicked @yarrystyleeza @littlenerdyravenclaw @ravenclaw617 @thychuvaluswife @schneeflocky @imjustcal @pipsqueakkitten
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deonsx · 8 months
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If They Take Care Of You When You Get Sick
Feat: Dazai, Chuuya, Ranpo, Fyodor, Nikolai
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Dazai Osamu
He really is very cautious in taking care of his one and only bella, He will hug you and give you lots of kisses regardless of your sickness, we know how bad he is at cooking but what will he do in a situation where he has to cook right now?
He thought about ordering food but didn't think it would be healthy so he tried making soup on his own from the cooking videos he really gave him full attention just to look at you, he ditched his job
"My beautiful bella, if anything happens to you, I would never be able to live" He's a real drama creator “Osamu I'm fine you're exaggerating"
I can imagine him holding you in his arms and not letting you walk "My love I can walk" You were told to him, His eyes were squinting looking at you "Still I will take care of you in the best of circumstances"
While you were sleeping, the moonlight hit your face and he watched you sleep, his eyes searched everywhere, he couldn't believe that he had found that true love and that she was lying in his bed like an angel right now "My beautiful angel"
Chuuya Nakahara
He's truly a masterpiece and he's a master at these, I can tell you he's the only man with excellent taste. He cooks with show even when You sick, which makes you smile, She takes her temperature every 10 minutes, pays a lot of attention, water bag and many things, pills, injections, serums, they are all here just for you now
He does 2-3 jobs at the same time, when you don't have control at home, things are only balanced by his power. You offered to call a doctor to the house, but he refused, "I'm the one who wants to take care of you, no one else is needed"
Of course he doesn't care if you're sick to kiss you too, he just lays you on his lap and watches you sleep, You rested your head on his orange hair and you fell asleep with his beautiful harmonizing perfume "My princess, I will always take care of you"
Ranpo Edogawa
No matter how cute and frivolous your boyfriend is, everything stops when it comes to you "I'll give you candy if you get better dear" you laughed at what he said "Ranpo I'm not a kid"
"I'm sure you will love it my love"he left kisses on your head, stroked your hair with his hands and tried to tell you a fairy tale "Once upon a time a princess..." He chose a beautiful story to put you to sleep
He can be very distracted while he cooks because you are the reason for making the food here, if you leave the room he is in and try to do anything while he is cooking he will scold you "Where were you s / he while I was cooking" he really asked you with a stupid seriousness on his face
"My love I just went out on the balcony" Ranpo shook his head disapprovingly "My wisdom instinct tells me you stood up for the laundry" He's not really serious at all. "If you try to get up again, I'll have to tie you to the bed in handcuffs, honey, be nice"
Fyodor Dostoyevski
He may indeed be the most normal lover among them, but just because he's normal doesn't mean he doesn't care about you, But of course he was interested in your illness and he wasn't that indifferent. "You still have a high fever, you need to take medicine dear"
He wasn't the best at cooking, he only cooked when it was absolutely necessary, but he wanted the best for you and brought home a chef who never took his money into consideration, yet you know how rich he is "The chef will make you 4-5 different main courses, if you don't like any of them just tell me my love"
He also considered calling a doctor home but didn't want to put you at any risk afterward because he had too many enemies, He left his job halfway just for you and took the best precautions for your recovery He tried every hour to heal you with special pills and serums "I don't know if you have any medical experience?"you asked him with a laugh. "Just for you, my dear”
Nikolai Gogol
"Darling please don't die yet we'll live a long life with you" He said stroking and kissing you "Ohh I'm fine please let me mind my business" "This is not possible, my love, I hired servants for you.." he spoke to you "Servants??" As soon as you asked, the door of the house opened and two women and two men entered. "People here will take care of your food, cleaning and your illness."
Your eyes really opened in surprise, you were expecting something, but you didn't think that he would exaggerate everything so much, He did make you feel like you were a princess in a castle, he was constantly teleporting around the house bringing you a water bag, ice cloth and a lot of things
He told you about his childhood while you were lying on a bed and you memorized everything he said word for word, he was saying it to sleep you, but when he turned his head to you he saw that you were not sleeping "My beautiful love is still listening to me?”
Enjoy!
I want to write them more as a father the time he spends with his children and his wife
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