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slashingdisneypasta · 6 months

Text

Horror Villains x Fem!Reader || Excerpts

Plot: Receiving a message from him specially for you.

Includes: Erik Destler, Inkubus, Jim Bickerman, Mayor Buckman and Stuart Lloyd. Obligatory pattern?? What pattern?

Warnings: Inkubus' is kindof sinister but what for you expect (side note- any guesses to whats inside the box? XD ) and Stuart's, reader is in university (I'm thinking around the 25 mark though). Also I wrote these in the notes app on my phone so I'm sorry if their are typos 😅

Tagging: @marinerainbow , @masqueradeball , @thecourtofgraywaves , and @your-mxnd-is-mxne .

Erik Destler

You felt the note be tucked into the palm of your hand when everyone was panicking because the lights switched off suddenly (of course, you had an inkling who was behind that fiasco immediately. Everyone did) and everyone was plunged into darkness. You breath had hitched, but then the lights turned on and there was no one next you- just your friends asking if you were okay and saying that it was the phantom.

You kept the piece of parchment in your fist hidden until you were able to slip away, say you needed some fresh air, and step out of the theatre to stand under a street light and open Erik's note for you; doing your best to flatten out the paper from its squished state with your hands.

His scrawl is a little smudged, and two of the corners are burnt, but you manage to make out his words. He's got lovely handwriting you think, a giddy smile twinging at your mouth.

_____

My dear,

After the show is over, I wish for you to meet me in my quarters.

There will be candles lit to lead you there, you only need to slip away from your frivolous companions and sneak down into the depths of the Opera house, if you're brave enough. I'm tired of the cat and mouse game you've been playing with me. Every flirtatious wink and pretty smile you send to my loge, every flash of your skin when you know I'm hidden there in your dressing room, every kind word you speak of me when others curse me... If your efforts are coming from a genuine desire to meet, I'll be waiting tonight. If not, I'll desist my watching. My listening. My attention.

That's my promise, and my offer- please consider it.

I hope to see you later, tonight. Enjoy the show.

- The Phantom

_____

A broader grin spreads across your lips as you finish the note and flick through it again, the important bits (the fact that he noticed your attempts to garner his attention at all, his offer, his hope). You've always been intrigued by the Palais de Garnier, and especially by its phantom~ There was truly something irresistibly fascinating about it- almost sexy. You can feel the excitement literally fluttering inside you like the wings of butterflies as you go back into the theatre and eagerly away the end of the show.

Inkubus

When you got home and pressed messages on your answering machine and heard that voice, you remember it clearly because it was so distinctive, and ardent, and sure, and so thick with something equally threatening, and... licentious, you immediately felt your blood run cold. The man at the busy coffee shop. Who sat with you at your table when their were no seats left and smelled like blood and looked at you like prey.

You didn't give him your phone number. You didn't even give him your name.

"Y/N... if you thought you would just brush me off and forget me like a random passerby, a footnote in your little life, you were mistaken. I told you, I have a few tricks up my sleeve~ "

You click to the next message numbly.

"In case you haven't deduced already, I also know where you live. And in case you think that I'm bluffing," the sound of a dark, soft chuckle revibrates from the speaker. "I left a small gift for you in your lovely bedroom. I'll give you a moment to go have a look."

Without a thought, you drop your bag and rush to your room after the click, stopping when you get there and cautiously pushing open the door. There you find a small box left in the mess of pillows and unmade blankets that is your bed that definitely wasn't there when you left in the morning, placed perfectly in the middle atop the covers, which you pick up carefully in one hand and take with you back to your answering machine; assessing it warily while you walk. It's wood but painted a terrible charcoal black, the paint coming off like soot on your fingers, and theirs a lock. You try to lift the lid, but without a key you won't be able to open it.

You press next on your answering machine, once again; eyes on the box.

"You'll get the key to what's inside next time we meet- and I promise, we will.

Y/N you have my full attention, and when I want something I generally get it. This is but a warning- by the months end, you'll want me just as deeply as I want you."

Jim Bickerman

He doesn't own a phone (he used to, but the telemarketers drove him up a wall and the old flip phone ended up in a lake somewhere) so when you get to his place, using the spare key tucked away under a little daffy duck figure on the porch, you see a tape recorder with a note taped to the front on the kitchen bench. "Hm," You hum, leaning your forearms on the bench and carefully unrolling the tape off the little beat-up machine and the note that says 'Read me' in thick permanent marker scrawl. Throwing away the tape, you press play and leave the tape recorder on the bench as you open up the freezer and pull out a pack of frozen potato gems. As you practically live here, even when Jim's not there too, you feel perfectly comfortable making yourself up and after work snack.

"Hey there, pumpkin. I'm off on a spontaneous job, got approached by a fella at the bar wantin' a couple protected deer off his property in Massachusetts. So I'll be off for about a week. Wish me luck I dont get in some trouble with fish and wildlife, eh?... " Sighing, you kneel by the oven and preheat according to the instructions on the bag. A week?? Crazy old man doesn't even have an email to contact him at! "but hey, pay-out promises to be good, the kid's got that new money look in his eye, so if all goes well when I get back I'll take ya out somewhere without a funky smell hm? You can wear something real pretty, and I'll pay. Course, you know the dress I like best." A grin quirks at the corners of your mouth, shaking your head. You do, you got it while shopping with him one day. "House-sit for me while I'm gone, won't ya?" Is that even a question?? He knows you love this place, it's off the beaten track and the lake's a quick walk from here. Not the lake he grew up next to, thank goodness; a really pretty one you love to read by while he fishes. Or just sit next to alone. "I tried to tidy up a bit but as we speak I'm in a rush, here. There's chocolate in the fridge and it's all yours. I'll miss ya, pumpkin, love ya. See you in a week."

After putting the potato gems away in the freezer to wait for the oven to preheat you pick up the tape recorder and take it with you to the livingroom, opening up a window to let in the fresh woodsy air before getting comfy on the couch and rewinding the tape.

Mayor Buckman

The note with your name on it folded neatly and left on your make up table beside a perfect sunflower when you got to your dressingroom after a show wasn't a surprise. There was always a note. Buckman never missed an opportunity to remind you that you're on his mind.

Pulling one side of your shawl over one of your bare shoulders, you take a seat in your dressing room chair with all other beautiful shawls and dresses and skirts of myriad materials and styles and colours strewn and hanging over the back, fold on leg over the other and lift up the flower, first; smiling and holding it delicately to your nose, feeling the soft petals on your cheeks.

You're approached plenty gentlemen in your line of work, being an actress on the stage. They find you beautiful, they love your voice, they think you're sweet. They want to add you to their collection of lovely things they've touched, or had.

But none of them were like Buckman, which is why you chose him.

He didn't look at you like you were a thing to have had. Not something to charm once and then never put anymore effort into; he always looks at you the same way with the same cheer and interest. He genuinely likes you, he likes talking to you, and he continues to prove it.

Next you pick up the note and flick it open for to read it slowly, feeling your heart flutter in your chest like no man's ever did before him- or ever have since.

_____

Steller performance as always sweetheart! Lord, I had the worst, most obnoxious boy next to me talking all the way through the show but I swear- I barely heard a word he said when you were on stage. How on earth could a fella notice anything else?

You were just magical, darling.

Anyway, I got a couple of boring mayor things to do get done quickly now while everyone's still milling about the theatre, I just wanted to tell you privately how amazing you were, in case none of the other idiots around here convinced you. I'll see ya at home later tonight. I'll make you something tasty for dinner. I love you.

- George

_____

Taking a deep breath, pause for a moment. You try to retain your graceful, sober togetherness because you're acclaimed actor and you don't get worked up over a silly man's sweet words... and fail; using the note and cover your goofy grin and closing your eyes shut, shaking your head.

Stuart Lloyd:

Finally at the bus stop, you open your phone for the first time and check notifications after a long, long day of work. God, that cinema is driving you up a wall. You can't wait to get that Masters, get a good job and get the hell out. 2 months to go.

Noticing an audio message amongst all the school emails, personal emails, and tumblr notifications, you think how odd that is- who leaves phone messages? Why wouldn't they just text you? A gentle humorous grin spreads across your mouth when you realise that it's from Stuart.

Of course, you think. Stuart's not terrible with technology, not at all, but it still just seems very him to leave a voice message rather then type out a text to you. He would never use emojis, either, you think. He's more likely to spend an hour composing you a short poem then quickly tap a small 'dimwitted' image to express his feelings.

After pressing play, you hold your phone to your ear and look out for the bus; blowing air out of your cheeks in exhaustion.

"Hello, uh, Y/N. I hope you're well, and um... you don't mind, that I uh- that I found your phone number in the employee files. I was unsure how to reach you, and I wasn't sure that our shifts were going to match up at all before um... before you left." You should mind, you think, but you don't. Stuart is always overstepping boundaries in that odd half nervous half holier then thou way and yet you... never mind. It's hysterical and you like him. "Um- for a better job I mean. I remember you saying you were going to leave, because well- because your course is ending, right? Congratulations, by the way. I don't think I said that. You must be... you must be very proud. Um- anyway- the reason for my calling, yes. I- " abruptly the tone beeps and Stuart's voice clips away, having taken way too long and been cut off. Pouting, you take your phone away from your ear and look for another message- and there is.

"Thank goodness, Stuart." Pressing the phone once again to your ear with an exasperated, fond grin, you shake your head. "Good grief."

"Right, um, I was too slow. My bad. What I was saying is I... I was wondering, if b-before you leave and I... miss my chance, if you wanted... " He clears his throat, and you start to feel anxious, heartbeat getting faster in your chest. You chew on the inside of your cheek. Where is he going with this? Why does he sound so nervous? "If you wished to a- accompany me on a... a date? I- look, I'm sorry if you feel that this is coming out of left field but I have not met a more pleasant person to be around for a long time, and I- " Stuart's voice clicks away from you again and you curse, quickly pressing the next audio message. There is 1 more message after this.

"It happened again. I apologise. What I'm saying is I appreciate you. And I'm not looking forward to working without you again in 2 months. And you're a- a very pretty young woman. If this comes off as... creepy... due- due to my age, or something, I apologise. I only thought that I would- that I should, give it a try. Thank you."

You start the final message.

"Oh!! I'll be working the next couple of days eight am to four pm- In case you wish to call me back whilst I'm available. Or not. Um, yes that's all. Have a lovely evening."

... for a few moments you remain holding the phone to your ear, head just rolling.

You never thought about Stuart romantically until this moment, he made your insides flutter but you never dared to go there. You pushed it down, you put the butterflies away in a box as best you could. But now they're out again and the fluttering is hard to ignore.

Before you can think anymore, you're calling him back.

"Yes? Hello?"

"Where do you wanna take me on our date?"

#writing fic is an addiction and i am an a d d i c t #luckily i am feeling better now so i can start writing slowwwwly XD #Horror Villains x Reader Excerpts #Horror Villains x Reader #Excerpts #Horror Villains #Stuart Lloyd #Stuart Lloyd x Reader #Mayor Buckman #Mayor Buckman x Reader #Jim Bickerman #Jim Bickerman x Reader #Inkubus #Inkubus x Reader #Erik Destler #Erik Destler x Reader

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terrence-silver · 2 months

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I'm feeling pretty blue today - what would CK Terry (or any TIG characters you feel like writing about!) to do earnest, sincerely cheer up someone they love?

I wish you lots of elation and happiness. Hope these help. ❤️

---

― When Jan Valek met beloved he already knew it'll be a moment he'll memorize and cherish for the rest of eternity. He already knew beloved will be something or someone that'll bring only true goodness into his life. He equates them to the light of the sun he and his kind were bereft of for centuries. He equates them with everything that's still noble, genuine, warm and sweet about humanity at large even though he doesn't view other mortals in the most of favorable light exactly. He has this incredibly exalted and romantic opinion of them, so, oh, the idea they'd ever feel blue about anything when he puts them all the way up there with the stars --- well, it strikes him. It is like witnessing a beautiful flower being sad about something; it cannot be conceivable because it isn't the flower's intended purpose in the grand scheme of creation. He's all affection and worship, collecting every tear from beloved's face with his lips and fingers, hugging them to himself with both hands and hiding them in his cape. He coos them. Caresses them. Hides them. Reminds them that in his infinite glory, God didn't create them for moments of sorrow. He's created them for joy. In fact, such is the depth of Jan's comfort and consolation of beloved that it telepathically revibrates through the entire coven and all his children feel it too. Beloved's not only loved, they're embraced. He remains with beloved instead of retreating underground when daytime returns, finding some dark, concealed place where he can hold them for as long as needed, time truly being meaningless to him. He could do this for decades if decades was what it took. Centuries, even, if need be. Ultimately, he waits it out with beloved and his arms around them don't unclasp until he literally senses their blood, scent and pheromones sing out with a change of mood before beloved themselves even realizes that they're no longer quite as upset as they were before.

― Terry McCain would downright willingly and tactically make a fool out of himself it meant beloved will simply...oh...you know...crack a smile for him? Why is that? Well, when you're a hardened, hot-headed Chicago Detective who has a tendency of taking things too far, to the point of utilizing excessive force during investigations and arrests, the sensitivity training doesn't really come all that naturally and so he counter-acts this by goofing around, in ways, even if that means getting beloved an adopted fuzzy pet out of the blue, enduring a scolding even when he doesn't give them space to breathe because he wants them to tell him what's wrong or waiting in front of their locked apartment door for hours when they want to be left alone, notwithstanding the fact he's also likely to just, you know, break in. He will be nosy. He will be invasive. He will employ his own professional deformation and investigate to get to the bottom of beloved's bad mood in the off chance they refuse to tell him, but one thing is absolutely certain; He will never, ever, ever leave them alone during this bad time, even risking being ridiculous and possibly overbearing doing so. Which means beloved can expect a takeover of their own life during the period of their depression. They wake up, they find McCain prepping up breakfast, wrapping his oversized coat or scarf around on a cold evening walk, tucking them in next to the fireplace and being fully domestic, threatening to knock some joker's teeth if the cause of their upset came from another person, or hey, he might just jokingly bring up doing so to deliberately appear like some dangerous wiseguy and hopefully amuse beloved through his antics. He'll try so many things that statically, something's very likely to just entertain beloved enough, even if begrudgingly, to have them snort through their nose with laughter at him faced with a funny anecdote from his First Communion.

― Gus Travis is paranoid and he is convinced beloved's current bad mood has something to do with him and taking it a step further than that, he gets this agitated impression that their depression is a prelude to an array of more serious underlining issues that remain yet unspoken; like them wanting to leave him or at least really seriously pondering it just about now. That they're deeply unhappy by his side and if he doesn't do something now to prevent it, history will only repeat itself and he'll lose someone he loves. Again. Would he really survive that crap twice? He doesn't think so. All the signs are there, after all, with his past bad experiences only further exacerbating the issue to the degree that depending of how blue beloved is feeling and for how long, Gus might just take it as far as really seriously telling them they should leave. Run away together. From this life. From his associates. From his gang. His syndicate. Sever all ties to them. Cut loose. Break out on their own. Turn a new page. Start a new life elsewhere. Far, far from here. Head out to sea on a boat if they have to. Not say anything to anyone. Pack up the basics. Hop in their car and go. Just go. Meaning that Gus Travis is genuinely probably willing to quite literally erase everyone and disappear if it could potentially bring contentment to beloved and ensure that they'll stay together. Just the two of them. Man could very well be halfway through the State of Washington on an escape spree before the conclusion might arrive that he did not, in fact, have to practically run away to make beloved happy. A kind word would've sufficed. Maybe a hug. But, Gus is a man of aggressive impulse, with an impassioned, streetwise nature to boot. His dryland mermaid is sad and he's expected to just...handle it in stride without shooting someone in the head? Yeah, no. Before anyone puts two and two together, Gus and beloved are too far gone to ever be found, headed somewhere that is bound to make them happy.

― Terry Silver does anything to cheer up someone he loves. And I do mean anything. Therein lies the danger of someone he cares for being even slightly upset or depressed, because he'd stop at nothing. There's no boundaries. Nothing is too ridiculous. No such thing as 'too far'. And no, I don't just mean throwing excess money and acts of service on a problem until it goes away --- I mean, he'd literally abuse someone to make beloved laugh. He'd hurt someone. He'd hurt whoever hurt them; whoever he feels fucked up their sunny disposition because trust and believe he's ready to have an enemy. Just point at one. If you don't, he's capable of inventing one himself. Throw an expensive car in the mix, sure, as a cherry on top of a cake. Does beloved want real estate? A company? A private island? Do they want him to buy out half of Los Angeles? Do they need a lavish vacation to fix their mood? An encouraging pep talk worthy of a Sensei? Should he knock someone's teeth out while they watch? Should he avenge them to remind them just how adored they are? Should he kill? Drag someone's bruised and beaten body and drop them off at beloved's feet as homage like a devoted blood hound would? Should he fuck beloved? Please, kiss, lick and work their body until their physique registers it as happiness? His mind will be working overtime --- the gears in his brain spinning and spinning and Terry will be likely to cheer himself up at the prospect of all the things he could do. He giggles and snickers as he plans. It is honestly just safer to tell this man what it is likely to make you content so he can go ahead and just do it for you because if his mind wonders too far in its deviousness, he'll do some pretty unhinged things in the hope it'll cheer beloved you up. But, point here is; he'd do just about anything, yes and beloved will probably never be as upset and in need of uplifting that will ever match the distance Terry Silver is willing to go to uplift them.

― Going to go out on a limb and saying Cash doesn't immediately know how to cheer up beloved or anyone as for that matter because this is simply not something he ever frequently does or has to do. His line of work or lifestyle doesn't exactly demand this of him --- in fact, even when he himself's in a gloomy mood, he merely fixes it with a quick beer and just shutting the heck up about it until it goes away. But, just because it is underexplored, new territory for him doesn't mean he doesn't care to the point he's thrown off of balance, pacing back and forth around the room, absolutely exasperated, an annoyed hand in his hair, feverishly thinking of what he should do, his mood sinking to dark depths right alongside beloved. He doesn't sleep. He doesn't talk. Doesn't do anything. He can't think straight. He's capable of spending days in front of beloved's room, just sitting there like a watchful warden in a state of limbo, waiting for a single word from them, a sign, a signal, a hint, anything that could indicate they're doing better now, and until he gets that, he might as well rot into the arm chair he's nestled into for all he's concerned. Cash takes whatever's going on very much to heart even though it isn't outright visible or easy to immediately tell at all times, but one order out of beloved's lips is enough to put him into action there and then without a single bit of protest out of him. If beloved said 'Rob a bank. It'll make me happy.' man outright would do just that entirely wordlessly. He'd be there getting his gun, gloves and mask ready, making the necessary phone calls, gone within the hour and already back home by the time they've woken up from their daily depression nap. He cares immensely. He doesn't always know how to express it or act on it, but even when beloved's in an infinitely better mood it'll be days and even weeks before Cash wholly recovers from whatever it was that bothered them, even if he doesn't really talk about it.

― Jack Blaylock, or rather, Timothy Calloway sits down and genuinely talks to beloved about it. Yes. Talks. Although never doubt this man too would be prepared to go to some truly harrowing lengths to merely see the slightest shadow of a smile on beloved's face, I get this impression he fixes them a warm beverage, makes them a lovely, intimate meal for two and tucks in by their side on a cozy, quiet evening instead, the lights of the city sparkling in the distance through the windows because civilian problems require civilian solutions and beloved's a civilian, first and foremost; so, he approaches their sadness in a way he knows they'll respond to best psychologically, not wishing to frighten them with promises of knives, blades, guns, murder, carnage, gore and all the things he'd do to anyone or anything that would ever make them sad or encroach on their happiness. He tells them anecdotes. Tales from his travels. All the places he's been. Seen. Spirituality. Past lives. How this is all unsolved karmic baggage and in few days time, it'll seem like a distant matter that'll only grow more foggy as time passes but that he's here, interconnected with beloved through countless past lives, feeling every bit of dejectedness they themselves might feel. He's here to face the fray with them because they're soulmates and that's what soulmates do. It is genuinely the most intense and eye-opening conversation beloved's ever had. One of those goddamn near live changing chats that seem a bit dream-like and slightly haunting and strange the next day but beloved truly does feel better afterwards because Jack will literally talk them out of their sour mood. Of course, has to be said that there's a disturbing factor to all of this because it is almost like Jack saw into beloved's soul and just about scraped off whatever was bothering them singlehandedly. Was there something in the coffee he's made them? Something in his general air and manner, how he knows to handle people? The sex they had afterwards? Beloved cannot tell, but they do feel infinitely better.

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lunadarkwoodx · 2 months

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Where: Nornwatch Tower, Troupe 1

A fortnight was nothing in the chasm of time, a frenzy revibrated through her bones and yet she tried to keep the monstrous creature that carried grief in its maw from turning into beast and losing control. Luna had never seen anything but the Ironwood trees, had kept mostly the company of her father and now both were out of reach. Decay is what Luna tastes in her mouth and she knows its from the land, the Earth has always been alive and speaks to those who listen.

Dead trees consume the land and a lump is present in Luna's throat, it wasn't that long ago that she was in her protected and sheltered cabin in the grove of wild and full trees. A Darkspawn lets out a howl and it's not the same as the Wolves that visit her dreams. "What was that?"

#( open )#( troupe 1 )#( troupe 1: nornwatch tower )

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gothicbabydollz · 2 years

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What do we think about riding Rhysand's thigh in his office?

Needy

~~~

Pairings: Rhysand x f!reader

Warnings: smut, thigh riding, daddy!rhys, dom/sub dynamics, praise kink, pet names (darling, little darling, baby), mentions of p in v

Summary: pwp, you find yourself desperate for rhys while he’s working

Word count: around 1.4k

a/n: we think yes. i’ve had quite a few requests for this so it’s good to finally be answering your guy’s wishes and it’s been a while since i’ve written for rhysie so i hope you enjoy :)

~~~

With Rhysand being High Lord, he’s required to work more than you’d like him to. It’s his responsibility, you understand. Yet, you can’t help but miss him when he’s away from you. Today has been more unbearable than the rest. And it’s only been a couple of hours since he left your side this morning. But all you can think about is Rhys. Every time you close your eyes, you see him, smell him, feel him. You’re restless and needy. The only thing able to cure your hunger is him. Rhys. You can’t take it anymore.

And that’s why you’re now standing in the doorway of his office, a small pout on your lips as you watch him scan the paperwork on his desk. He wears a smug smile, as if knowing you’d come and find him. “Darling,” The term of endearment rolls off his tongue like sweet wine.

You bite your lip, stepping closer. Your bare feet pad across the cold floor as goosebump scatter along your skin in the chill, morning air. “Daddy…” Rhys’s gaze flicks to you, a dark glimmer shining there. You watch the slow roll of his throat as he swallows thickly. You’re playing a cruel game, knowing how that one little word causes Rhys to break so easily. Paired with the pretty nightgown hugging your body, leaving little to the imagination. He’ll be giving into your needs in no time. Rhys never takes his eyes off you as he leans back in his chair with a sigh. He pats a thick thigh, beckoning you over.

You go happily. Sliding into his lap and pressing your face into his shoulder, nuzzling softly. “Missed you,” You mumble, humming when you feel his warm palm cupping your cheek. Rhys tilts your chin up, a small smirk on his mouth, “You poor thing,” He coos, “I left you aching this morning, didn’t I?” His smirk only widens when you pout up at him, nodding your head and settling yourself on his thigh. “But it’s only me who can fix this.” Rhys empathises his words by pressing his thigh against your core. You’ve been wet and throbbing all morning. The sudden friction drags a pained whimper from your throat. You clutch the lapels of Rhys’s jacket tight in your fists, scared that if you let go, the relief will vanish.

“You’re mean,” You whine, grinding yourself down on Rhys’s muscled thigh, moaning softly when he makes no move to stop you. Rhys chuckles, the sound revibrating in your bones. “I’m being mean, huh?” Rhys shifts, the shuffling of paper confirming that he’s returning to work. “You’re getting what you want, little darling. Daddy’s here.” You almost want to groan in frustration, but from the way your clit rocks against his thigh, the only sounds leaving you are desperate whines. Resting your head on his shoulder, you press your lips to his neck. You leave a trail of wet kisses up his throat, trying your best to keep his attention on you. “Need you to help me, daddy…please!”

Rhys allows himself a moment to bask in the feeling of your sweet, soft mouth on his skin. Releasing a deep sigh, his free arm curls around your waist to feel your body as you rock against him. “Be good for me now, darling,” Rhys tells you, hints of a warning tone in his voice, “Use daddy to get yourself off like a big girl and let me finish my work. Then I’ll be all yours. How’s that sound, baby?” You say nothing, simply continuing your assault on his neck, sucking, and nipping. Rhys groans. “By the mothe-, if you can do that for me then daddy’s going to bend you right over this fucking desk and make you scream loud enough for all of Velaris to hear. Don’t you want that, baby?” he sounds strained. You shiver and your cunt clenches at the thought of Rhys taking you on his desk. So, you nod, whimpering into the crook of his neck. “I know you do, darling. That’s my good girl, keep going,” His words are urging you to press your hips down harder and hump his thigh as though you’re in heat. “There you go. Keep rubbing that pretty little pussy on daddy. Get her nice and wet for me.”

“Yes, daddy,” You moan into his neck, submitting so easily to his wishes. You’d to anything to have him close. To feel him against you, inside you. The anticipation is spurring you on. You want to be good girl for him. You want his cock so badly; you couldn’t dare defy him. Nothing compares to the feeling of him sheathed within your tight walls as he makes you see stars.

So, you do as he says. Riding his thigh as that tight feeling begins to wind in your tummy. You’re making a mess of his slacks, arousal seeping through your thin undergarments. The soaked material sticks to your puffy folds, dragging perfectly against your clit with each back and forth roll of your hips over his thigh. Soft whines pass your lips, causing puffs of your shaky, warm breath to fan across his skin. Rhys has to fight back the urge to shiver in pleasure. The High Lord gave up on his work the moment he caught scent of your arousal while you were tiptoeing your way towards his office. The smell went straight to his cock, gods, he is almost as desperate to be inside you as you are. But he can’t let you know that. Rhys wanted to torture you for just a little while long. Get you right where he wants you. So that when he finally thrusts inside your sopping cunt, you’ll be nothing but a pleasure-drunk mess, begging him to fuck you until he physically cannot stand any long. And the gods know, that can take long long time. Rhys lets that image float into your head, breaching the barricades to your mind like it’s the back of his hand. He knows it’s just what you need to push you over the edge.

You shatter in response. Choking out a loud whimper as your climax takes control of every nerve in your body. You shudder in his lap, feeling a new wave of juices leak from your cunt, staining Rhys’s pristine and perfect suit pants with your cum. A dazed smile takes form on your lips as some of the built-up tension from the hours you spent alone finally releases. Yet, you can’t help the growing ache for his cock begin to pulse with excitement. The grinding of your hips slow to pathetic ruts as you ride out those last aftershocks. Your head lifts to look at Rhys when his voice breaks through your heavy breathing, “There you go, darling,” he speaks softly, “Feel better?”

“A little,” You grin happily as Rhys chuckles. He studies your face as his hands slip down to cup the back of your thighs. “What’s that look for?” He squeezes, eliciting a giggle from your throat as it begins to tickle. Your arms slide around his shoulders, hooking at the back of his neck, you can’t help but tangle your fingers in the short hair at his nape. You lean forwards, planting a soft kiss to the tip of his nose before mumbling, “You helped.”

You gasp when Rhys stands, lifting you in his arms. You’re set carefully on his desk before the surprise can really take effect. Rhys retakes his seat with a growl, as if trying to brush off the fact that he gave into your desires. “Well, little darling,” He drawls, slowly dragging the tips of his fingers along and up your thighs until he reaches the waistband of your undergarments. Your breath catches in your throat. “You know I can’t resist this pretty cunt,” he pulls the thin material off your body in a quick motion, teasingly twirling the damp fabric around his finger before he’s stuffing them inside his desk drawer. For later, his smirk tells you.

Large palms returning to your skin, Rhys spreads your thighs apart, strings of your slick thinning between them. He props your feet on the edge of his desk and sits back contently. “Show daddy the mess you’ve made, darling,” He nods towards your hand, guiding you with what to do. You follow his instructions, fingers slipping between your legs…

“Use your fingers. That’s it, baby. Spread those puffy little folds for daddy, good girl. Let me see if you’re wet enough to take daddy’s cock.”

#rhysand x reader smut #rhys #rhysand smut #rhys x reader #rhys x reader smut #rhys acotar #rhysand acotar #rhys smut #a court of thorns and roses smut #rhysand a court of thorns and roses #feyre x rhys #feysand #rhys x feyre #a court of thorns and roses x reader #acotar smut #acotar x reader

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arabellatreaty · 5 months

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Inumaki Toge: I Don't Need To

Content: Boyfriend AU, Fluff, Dominant Reader

Warnings: NSFW, Smut, Thigh Riding, Fingering

Synopsis: Reader gets curious if Inumaki can used his cursed technique to make her cum and he gives her a fairly unexpected answer and then proves his point.

Word count: 0.6K

"Toge~!", your voice revibrates around the living room of your shared apartment with said sorcerer. You rush to hug him and smother him in affection. A kiss to the jaw, your hands intertwined and the most merry smile on your face which he reciprocated, although it wasn't very visible due to his signature mouth-covering turtleneck.

He placed his free hand on your back and rubbed his forehead against yours. You longed to hear his voice but you both knew it wasn't possible unless all he said was an onigiri ingredient. Nevertheless, it brought you peace that no words needed to be exchanged to feel each other's love because the bond between you two was just that strong.

A moment passed and the warm embrace was broken. He ruffled your hair and you tried to slap his hand off but in your mind, you adored the little ways in which your pretty boyfriend showed you how much he doted you.

He walked past you and into his bedroom, leaving the door open a crack rhetorically. You followed him into his room and watched as he stripped out of his uniform until he was wearing only his boxers. Then his glance fell to you, not suggestively but rather as a silent question, 'What's on your mind?'

It took him no more than a playful smile to acquire your thoughts. He sat down on his bed leisurely, with his elbow propped on his thigh and his head on his elbow, looking up at you intently. You walk up to him, taking your time and then trapping him under you, placing your knee beside his thigh and gently climbing on top of him with your hand on his shoulder for support.

You pull your sweater over your head and your panties to the side, leaving you in your skirt, bra and thigh-high socks. You sit on the protruding bulge in his boxers and grind against it, when suddenly, a question strikes you and the glint in your eyes indicates it to him.

He tilts his head to the side in question as you regain your composure and place your hand on his chest. "Toge... Can you make me cum just by telling me to?", you halt your activity as you look at him expectantly. Inumaki immediately has an answer and looks to the side shyly and then at you with only his eyes, a mischievous smirk accompanying the action. He mouths 'I can... But I don't need to', punctuating it with a hand grabbing your hair and pulling you closer, diving his head below your jaw and biting your neck.

Your head falls back and your eyes droop to a half-lidded state, your mouth simultaneously parting and a heavy exhale escaping it. His free hand pushes your body closer to him by the small of your back and forces you to be fully seated on his lap again.

He helps you get off by holding your hips and rolling them on his erection. Just when you feel your climax nearing, he makes the bold move. He stops, completely. He palms his erection while maintaining eye-contact with a perplexed and whiny you. Just when your panting figure paws at his chest for answers, he plunges his fingers deep into your throbbing cunt easily because of how wet you were, filling you up and letting you adjust for only a full of two seconds before continuing his in-and-out movement, concurrently rubbing circles on your clit. Before long, you feel your body stiffen and your walls clench around his long fingers. He helps you ride your orgasm, which comes like a blinding wave making you unable to think or move for a few seconds while and after it passes.

He had proved his point, he truly did not need to.

#anime #jjk smut #jjk x reader #inumaki toge

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anna-h-ofeliya · 2 months

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Two days late but ⭐star⭐

The ask is from Director's cut challenge.

send in a ⭐star⭐ to have the author select a section they’ve been dying to talk about!

---

Mata! Thanks for the ask!

Ooof I feel like my favorite scene so far (hehe) is from my fic All the flowers we gathered in May - Chapter 9.

---

For context:

This fic is post war, Draco is unredeemed and very close to this canon self, and it's a Draco redemption arc.

---

The whole chapter is my favorite to be honest.

The short plot is: Draco has to make a speech before Wizengamot to convince them to let Lucius go.

His solicitor prepared a speech for him.

And throughout the whole chapter he practices the speech.

Once with Narcissa.

Once one on one with the mirror.

And once with Lucius.

The point of this chapter was to show a few things:

give some idea how Lucius might've trained Draco in his childhood

give some idea what Lucius thinks "motivating" means

show how desperate Draco is for Lucius's approval

So the emotional peak of the chapter is Lucius asking Draco to read the speech over and over again. Commenting on every single minuscule thing he finds unsatisfactory.

Partially to break him, partially to reassert his control over Draco, and partially to get a result he wants.

"'My father— made choices during the second wizarding war that were undoubtedly flawed." Lucius's grip tightens again. Draco pressed his lips together. A shimmer of sweat quickly crawls over his skin, together with the growing buzz as the words revibrate in his throat. "'They were guided, like everything in his life, by the concern for me and my mother. Our safety and wellbeing." A breath that is more like a shudder, "In the same vein we made decisions that proved instrumental in toppling the darkest wizard of our era—'" "You're speaking dully. Again. Where is your voice? Did you swallow it?" Draco shakes his head. He is right. "Again," Lucius insists. "'I address you today on a matter close to my heart—" Lucius's hand drops on the table with a sharp thud, making Draco's heart jump. "Don't be a ninny. Again. Make me believe it," Lucius interjects again, and Draco launches into the speech with a vigour that rushes the words out of him. "'I address you today on a matter close to my heart—the plea for the early release of my father, Lucius Malfoy, from Azkaban. My father made choices during the second wizarding war that were undoubtedly flawed," Draco straightens his shoulders. "'They were guided, like everything in his life, by the concern for me and my mother. Our safety and wellbeing—'" Draco quickly moistens his dried lips, "'In the same vein we made decisions that proved instrumental in toppling the darkest wizard of our era. I recognize their complexity—'" "Stop," Lucius commands, letting go of his wrist. "I can do it again. I can—" words immediately spill out of Draco.

It's like a spiral that Draco goes down. A push and pull.

Lucius clearly abuses him emotionally, but Draco is only happy to oblige because at this point in his mind Lucius knows better.

---

He'll be better though!

Again thank you for the ask Mata <3

#dramione #draco malfoy #draco lucius malfoy #dhr fanfiction #all the flowers we gathered in may #asks

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fandomscompilation · 1 year

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The story of two broken souls (Kaz Brekker x Reader) Part 3

Fandom: Six of Crows

Pairing: eventual Kaz Brekker x Reader

Warnings: hints of kidnapping, death, threats, guns, mentions of abuse and rape

A/N: I'm trying to post as quick as possible. I'm so happy to see people enjoy my works. I'll do my best to keep this series going for all of you. Enjoy this part that will lead into the main storyline.

Taglist: @d34drapunzel @coldheartedmar

Gif is not mine.

Muffled noises reached my ears in the darkness. I tried concentrating my hazy mind on the shuffled steps and mumbled words. They bled into one to revibrate in my mind twice as loud as before. My temples pulsed indicating the beginning of a headache.

I steadied my breathing and focused on my body. The pulsing in my head, the way a tight rope was digging into my wrists and the pain around my ribs, probably a bruise forming.

Last thing I remember was patrolling the streets and noticing a young woman pestered by two drunken men. Obviously I went to help her, but I only managed to enter the alleyway before everything went dark.

"So you killed five of my man. Again." I blinked my eyes open to see Pekka in front of me. I kept my eyes on him noticing we were in some kind of room. They left my mask on but I could feel punches were delivered while I was unconscious.

"That little?" I chuckled enjoying his anger. He stepped closer and pressed his gun over my heart.

"You've been pissing me off for the last few years, Blade. And I'm getting impatient with you declining all my offers." He seethed few centimetres from my face. "Tell me one reason why I shouldn't kill you."

"We both know you won't. It would be too much of a loss for each one of you. Where you little thugs can't get I can. Which means this city needs me and you'd be a fool to kill me." I said glaring into his eyes. He hovered over me for a second longer before stepping away.

"You're right. You're right." Pekka nodded pacing in front of me. Then he stopped and looked at me with a smile that made my insides turn. "I can't hurt you, physically. But I can still leave a scar for you to remember what happens to those that cross me." He waved to one of the man at the door and soon few girls were pushed in.

I kept my stare blank, body relaxed. I knew what he was doing, but I still couldn't give him the satisfaction. Pekka figured out a way to get to me, to weaken me.

"You know them don't you?" He asked happily. "You saved them. From rape, from menagerie, from gangs and drunken man. But guess what, I found them." His smirked made me want to slit his throat open. He stopped infront of the girl that had her blouse ripped open. "This one is the one you didn't manage to save. I wonder how she must've felt when she watched you fall before she could ran away."

"Must've been hard work to find them. Cost some money, huh?" I asked through my anger and he came over to ran his finger over my masked jaw.

"Oh, Blade. I'll gladly spend most of my money just to know you'll be mine." He said before walking to the doors. "Make sure she sees it."

I watched how the doors behind him closed. His man pushed all of the girls to their knees each one of them sobbing and pleading. I watched with unblinking eyes how every bullet landed in their skulls. Eyes going blank, bodies turning pale. Their blood pooled on the floor, drowning me in it. With each shot I made a new promise of bringing down Pekka Rollins and his Lions. I thought of all the ways I would make them bleed, make them scream and beg for death. I'll show them what pain means.

When the last girl fell, the only one that I couldn't save, I was submerged in the darkness again.

#fanfiction #writing #fanfic #kaz brekker x reader #six of crows #grishaverse #kaz brekker series #the story of two broken souls #requests are open

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aristonsilvester · 10 months

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who: @senatusstarters where: Parco Savello

Ariston had stumbled out of a Roman afterclub, glitter dusting his shoulders and he was still riding out the drugs in his system -- the sunlight burned and he wasn’t ready to return to the Pyramid just yet so he found a park bench to ride his comedown out. Flower petals drifted on the wind and tangled with the leaves that ghosted through the air, he felt the sun on his face and an ache within his heart began because the World was telling him that things were not as they were meant to be -- he still felt the call of Old Magic but giving in to his druidic ways always reminded him of how much he disappointed those he loved. He lit a cigarette and coughed because it felt like his lungs were being strangled, the roots of old trees revibrated through his chest. His gaze met the treeline of New Rome and he was saved by the skin of his wolf pelt but the rest of Rome had been shut off, it was a miracle that the city driven people still had this park to be in touch with the Earth that held them. “Gorgeous day, isn’t it? Do you hear that music too?”

#senatus.chat

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saekkas · 1 year

Note

. I'm embarassed now so take some Mikka fluff as an apology for the earlier TT ( haven't written anything concrete in so long... Sorry for it being rushed, cringy and unpolished as fuck)

Michael is lurking around your apartment with an intent, you decide.

A loud thump of an object falling to the floor from the other room confirms your suspicions.

Yes, he is definitely up to something.

The confirmation does nothing to calm your mind. You actually are torn between curiosity and anxiety because Kaiser having an /idea/ is as bad as waking up and realising your day will be awful because your hair is not behaving the way it is supposed to do, something about your face is off and your usual breakfast doesn't taste as good as always.

It is actually worse, you decide as you hear your best friend cursing loudly after another loud noise revibrates in the apartment.

You are becoming suspicious of Michael. It is not that you do not trust him to behave like a normal, decent human being while being alone in your room but... You snort lightly as you determine that it is precisly what you described.

Kaiser is anything but ordinary and you cannot expect anything but conspicuous behaviour from him.

You silently tip-toe to your bedroom and try to spy on Michael through the small crack he left by not closing the doors properly.

He is rummaging through your small cabinet next to the full body mirror, which he actually gave you as a present for your promotion at work (he said you should join him in his weird morning routine but you rejected him promptly). You focus your eyesight on his sweet, goofy little sound he lets out as a small satisfied smile creeps up on his face. He found what he was looking for, apparently.

You steal a glance at the object in his hands – a wooden jewelry case.

"You can come in, you know? It is not polite to scramble around like a bug."

You startle at his voice and your line of sight travels from his hands to those piercing eyes of his.

You scoff offended.

"Bold words for someone who scurries around like a rat in my room, you bastard."

Your tone lacks any bite as you venture further into the bedroom and sit in the hanging chair in the corner.

"What are you doing with that old thing anyways?" you ask with a tilt of your head.

You are about to say something more but you stop dead in your tracks as Michael's ears tint a lovely shade of vibrant red.

You cannot believe it.

Michael Kaiser is /flustered/.

You are scared (and bashful) - when did a peaceful afternoon turn into a freaking horror movie? This feels like the first sign of an apocalypse coming or a dangerous virus spreading and Michael, of all people, being the patient 0.

"W-what the hell is up with you today?" you stutter with a horrified expression. "Do you have a fever? God, was I right and you have rabies? I knew I was right telling everyone you are feral!"

"Shut up!"

He stares you down and perhaps you would take him more seriously if not for the red hue spreading to his neck like a wildfire.

Kaiser tilts his head up as he pinches his nose with furrowed brows and closed eyes. He sighs deeply beford he is in front of you in an instant. Sometimes you forget how agile he can be.

Michael opens the jewelry case in his hands you forgot about in this whole ordeal. You lean forward to look at what he is doing and soon Kaiser proudly holds up a pair of earrings, which you know very well.

You look at him like he grew a second head.

"You are acting more stupid than usual and, if I am being honest, I did not think that was possible," you say and watch as his grin falls into a scowl. "You are once again outdoing yourself. I guess you are a prodigy at more things than football."

You were prepared for Michael throwing you a snarky comeback or straight up going for getting you into a headlock as a revenge for acting like a brat but nothing of that sorts came.

You are actually getting a little concerned he really has rabies.

Michael gently puts the dangly earrings on both of your ears while murmuring something about how stupid you look and sound.

"I bought you the pair as a gift when we graduated," he said as if you did not remember the story behind the favourite piece of jewellery you own. "Why have you stopped wearing them daily since last week, idiot?" he continues and you blink owlishly at him.

He pats your cheek gently when he is done after a few seconds.

"That's better," he murmurs as he stares at you and studies you features, or rather admires because he knows them too well, with something you are scared to name.

You wonder if his eyes were always as blue as the skies you watched on your trips to the mountains, if his eyelashes always fluttered the same way grass in the mornings do and if you only now notice how ripe cherries probably taste more bitter than his lips must do.

Michael Kaiser is up to something, you decide, and it is /dangerous/.

- 🗿

i wasn't going to post this bcz ive been waiting to use it for inspo but ive decided that the people need to see this masterpiece.

#no need for me to add anything to it #already chefs kiss #uve outdone urself again anon #— ; messages to rin #— ; 🗿 anon

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darxpatel · 7 months

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Benefits of Reciting the Hanuman Chalisa

Hanumanji is a revered God in Hinduism yet the prime example and promoter of Bhakti Marg as he is depicted as a staunch devotee of Prabh Shri Ram. He is known by many names primarily as Shivansh as he is said to be the Avatar of Lord Shiva. Bajrangbali was the Vanar King who devoted his life to Shri Ram, he was the prime character in Ramayana having unsurmountable power who helped his Aradhya in fighting Demon King Ravana and reuniting with his abducted wife Sita.

There are many devotional hymns and songs generated in praise of Lord Hanuman by his devotees and one such is Shri Hanuman Chalisa. It was composed by the renowned Devotional Poet Tulasidas in the 16th century, as a part of the Epic Poem ‘Ramcharitramanas’ and the Lyrics of Hanuman Chalisa are in Avadhi language. Hanuman Chalisa consists of 40 verses in the praise of dedicated God hence the name Chalisa.

Benefits of Hanuman Chalisa Path

The recital of Shree Hanuman Chalisa is said to be beneficial as the writer of it is said to have composed it to gain the praise of the lord to overcome difficulties in his life and succeed in the same. So let's look at the predominent benefits as said to be obtained by reciting Chalisa in praise of Bajrangbali.

Hanuman Chalisa Path is the story of the praisable lord Hanumanji, beliefs are that if recited to growing kids it can imprint the same spirit as the lord. Hence it develops a strong character among the listeners, willing them to fight for destiny, achieve success, and develop a positive upbringing being courageous, and humble at the same time.

As Shree Hanuman Chalisa's Path says ‘Sankat Te Hanuman Chudave, Man, Karma Bachan Dhyan Jo Laave’, meaning that praying to the lord in your mind, actions, and words the lord will help you with problems.

Astrological beliefs state reciting Hanuman Chalisa would rid one of ‘Sate Sati’ the term for the heavy effect of Saturn planet that is said to be the punisher for your bad karma, it is believed that the path of Chalisa would help cancel the negative effect on your life

Recounting Shree Hanuman Chalisa is considered to have a resounding effect on the human body and mind, helping them achieve peace, relieve stress and physical ailments, etc. as sound and words are said to revibrate in the universe

Devotees believe that the Hanuman Chalisa Path helps ward off evil energies, gain the lord's protection, experience calm and strength, have a positive effect on the mind, learn the art of living, and develop courage for the Mahabali Hanuman himself is your protector.

Practice and Rituals to Praise Shri Hanumanji

Legends mention Bajarangbali to be Brahmachari following the path of asceticism so most of his followers follow Brahmacharya walking the path of their revered God. There are no other strict rules and practices followed while reciting the Shree Hanuman Chalisa Path. Yet it is advised to recite the chant on Tuesday and Saturday, noting the dedicated days to the devotion of Lord Hanumanji.

It is widely believed that visiting Hanuman Mandir on Tuesday and Saturday offering sindoor and oil to Lord Hanuman and chanting the Hanuman Chalisa Mantra would be beneficial to ward off all evil and gain success in life. Many temples have an offering, aarti, and devotional path organized for the devotees, if one wishes to enjoy the glory they can join.

#Hanuman Chalisa #Shree Hanuman Chalisa #Benefits of Hanuman Chalisa #Hinduism #lord hanuman #Shree Hanuman

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