#spotted so many bears i wish i could pet them
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jasper, canada- 2023
#spotted so many bears i wish i could pet them#photography#nature#paletmblr#palesources#userpastel#sansaes#35mm#mine
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─── Need You
彡 Gojo takes your teasing a little personally and decides to remind you that you really do need him after all.
tw / cw : no thoughts only smut ,, edging, fingering, one clit slap, a little mutual masturbation, a lil dacryphilia ? ,, pet names (baby, princess) ,, lmk if i missed anything
pairing : Gojo x afab! reader
no detailed physical descriptions of reader aside from them having a kitty
a/n : My laptop broke so it’s been a little tricky to write so bear with me. I also didn’t proofread this so shhshhh
w/c : 1k
Minors dni - 18+
Looking back on it now, maybe poking at Satoru today wasn’t a good idea — he was already being grumpy. All you did was make a few jokes about how you don’t need a man; and how you especially didn’t need one to make you cum. How were you supposed to know he was going to take your teasing as a challenge?
Which is how you ended up in this situation. Though you couldn’t remember when your clothes came off, or even how the events up to this point transpired. And every curl of Satoru’s fingers is no help. It only brought you closer to your peak, but of course, he wouldn’t let you have your way that easily.
“What’s that, baby?” He grinned as he slowed his pace. His digits rolled into you in such a languid manner, it made forming any sentences hard.
“Satoru…” you whine, “please.”
You weren’t sure if you wanted him to stop or keep moving. All you did was paw at him and attempt to focus on him. But your mind was in shambles, and it seemed impossible to even decide what to zero in on. Satoru consumed your entire body.
“What were you saying?” He leans down to you, gripping your face in his hand. “You don’t need a man, right? Go on then. Get yourself off.”
He laid a small pat on your cheek as he let his digits slide out of you, leaning back to grip his cock; giving it a few strokes. The view alone has your eyes rolling and your thighs clenching together, crying out for him to ‘please, give you more’.
Lascivious fingers make their way to your bud, rubbing circles on it with every stroke you see from Satoru. Mesmerized by the sight of him. The way his light locks clung to the sweat on his forehead, and how his eyes looked down on you. How his muscles seemed to tense with each movement he made. Oh, and his dick is truly something to drool over, and the smug bastard knew.
But these little menstruations weren’t enough for you; you needed more. So, your hand moved down to your hole, sliding in with ease. Trying your hardest to put on a show for Satoru — hoping he’d take pity on you. But your digits aren’t big enough to prod at that spongy spot inside you, and it made you become a bewildered wreck. Of course, they couldn’t reach it the way Satoru managed to — another thing that he knew.
And as he watched, he only grinned wider. His blue orbs cascaded at you. He wished he could save this image of you and tuck it in the back of his mind. With you so fucked out — by his fingers alone. Drool coming out of the sides of your mouth, tears staining your cheeks. Oh, how your legs continue to twitch, and how your hole keeps clamping around nothing; an attempt to entice him in.
But he’s the strongest for a reason, and it probably has to do with his need to be the best. And you being in front of him looking like an absolute mess gave him a power trip he definitely did not need.
“What is it, huh? You want me to fuck you?” He starts, “Come on, princess, use your words.” he licks his lips, offering your clit a slap, “you were running your mouth earlier.”
You only moaned, stuttering out, ‘’please, 'toru!”
His fingers maneuvered into your heat, and you could hear how wet you were. It’s embarrassing. You pull your legs up to your chest to try ground yourself, your nails digging into the skin. You can’t suppress the flood of moans that pour out.
And it was futile trying to remember how many times he had denied your orgasm. What you knew, though, was that whatever sorcery Satoru is using is working. It was addictive and brought you so close to the edge, time and time again. Yet, your mean boyfriend never let you have your fervent release.
His digits curling inside you made you sob, “S'toru!”
To which he let out a boisterous laugh, "Yeah, keep saying my name like that.”
It would be an understatement to say he was enjoying this, taking all his frustrations out on your poor pussy. He gives your thigh a firm slap, feeling the way you clench around him. And when he slides his fingers out of you; you almost wail.
You watch between tears as he brings them up to his mouth, licking them clean with a moan. And he holds your gaze while he moves to loom over you. Having his tongue poke out to lick up your salty streams.
“Why you cryin’, baby?” he coos with faux sympathy, “You wanna cum?”
You nod your head, your vocabulary dumbed down to Satoru’s favourite words, “yes, please.”
He instructs you to get on your hands and knees, which you hastily fall into. It gave him the perfect view of your hole, watching as your slick drizzles out. His thumb rubbed teasing circles on your clit while giving himself a few more strokes before he lined himself up at your entrance, allowing his cock to sink into you with little effort — and warning.
You cry out, gripping the bed sheets, because of course no matter how many times you’ve done this, you can never seem to fully prepare yourself for his length. And Satoru is unphased by how your walls grip so tightly around him, in fact it seems to just edge him on even more.
His hands tighten, and the hold he has on your hips keeps you right where he wants you, with no room for you to crawl away. The sound of skin colliding echoed throughout your bedroom, paired with his grunts from behind; it made your eyes roll. Not a single thought enters your head as he thrusts into you.
Over and over, he plunged into the spot that needed him most. And already being so worked up from his teasing, you couldn’t help how the coil in your stomach tightened so quickly. Everything felt so good.
“’toru, ‘toru! please, please.”
“Please, what?”
You whimper out a barely eligible, “let me cum.“
Unfortunately for you, Satoru thinks you look best like this. Drunk on him, with nothing but moans and his name coming out of your mouth; your face pressed so prettily into the pillows. Yeah, you look perfect like this, and he thinks he’ll bask in this side of you a little longer.
“No, I don’t think I will.”
#𓂃 ⋆｡°﹆ ⁞ spirit writes#𓂃 ₊‧⁺˖⋆ deep blue#gojo satoru x reader#gojo satoru x you#gojo x reader#gojo x you#satoru gojo x reader#gojo smut#jjk x reader#jjk x you#jjk x reader smut#gojou satoru x reader#gojo x reader smut
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Hello my friend!! My stinky cheese!
Do you think Raphael would bond at all with a Tav who also hates their father (cough cough kinda like Durge cough cough)?
If so, could I request a prompt where Raph reacts to Tav (female) just getting really angry/upset about that familial void that he can so relate to.
I know this isn't gonna be easy, but I wish you luck wrangling the beast 🫡
A/N: I opted for mother vs. father. Since you vetoed me from using Durge, it’s a Tav. A Lolth-Sworn Drow. This….is not quite the prompt. I’m sorry, love.
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In nearly two thousand years of living, Raphael has welcomed all sorts of souls to his door. Spurned lovers, vengeful rulers, petulant children; he is all things to all people, as any devil worth their salt could attest. And for all those souls and all those years, he can say he has felt true camaraderie only a handful of times.
He counts the drow among them.
Tav regards him with interest from the start. No fear, only a culturally conditioned lust. He is power and ambition made flesh; he is a steppingstone and tool, or so she imagines. Bless her little heart. She will use him and expects to be used in turn; it is a charmingly simplistic exchange.
Tit for tat, love. Information for the Orthon. A hammer for a crown. He comes to her in the aftermath of the invasion, surprised to find her languishing in the Elfsong. She has talked of naught but her return to the Underdark.
“You linger, little mouse. Have we grown fond of the surface-dwellers?”
She smiles, teeth too white in the elegant darkness of her face. A curtain of platinum hair falls over her shoulder. Tav is a stunning representation of the breed. She steps aside to grant him entry to her suite. “Don’t be foolish. My delay is purely practical.” Tav settles in one of the rich wingbacks, looking for all the world a queen. “I wanted to make certain you’d find me.”
“Oh, always, sweetling. Wherever you go, rest assured I will find you.” He plucks her hand from the armrest, kissing the back of her knuckles. “That lovely little soul of yours bears my mark.”
“Lolth will not be pleased.”
“The Spider Bitch was long since defanged. Her dissatisfaction means nothing to me. ” Tav’s expression softens. Her eyes remain the rest of those sworn to the mistress of the Demonweb pits, but her loyalties have shifted. “But your satisfaction, my little treat, means everything. Tell us what you need.”
“I’ve been absent from Menzoberranzan too long. Before the,” she hesitates a moment, “incident. I had intended to wrest my House from the Matron Mother’s control.”
“Matricide, is it? How delightful.”
“You know how parents can be.”
“Don’t I just.” Raphael chuckles. He seats himself beside her. The proximity of the chairs and his size leaves his knee fetching up against hers. Tav shifts, hooking her foot behind his ankle. Brave girl. “And you are lucky, pet. I have a soft spot for rebellious princes and princesses.”
She rests her chin in the palm of her hand. Lovely and so willing to treat with him. He’s struck again by how odd it is to see yourself reflected in a mortal vessel. There are scars across the pretty things back, left by lash and more inventive forms of torture typical to the species. And he sees the same hate in her eyes. A burning desire for more, to take what she's owed. “Let us discuss terms, love of mine.” The endearment makes him laugh; there is no love, not even an echo of it, in her voice. Only hunger. “Passage to Menzoberranzan.”
“Only passage? I might offer you power. And more.”
“And more?” She arches a brow, stroking his calf with her foot. “And the cost?”
“Negotiable, pet. We might even defer it…a Matron Mother will not lack resources. Power today for payment tomorrow. A generous offer, no?”
Tav chews at her lower lip. “And if I proposed an alliance? To swear myself to you for this power, to pledge my House to your service…what would you offer?” And it is odd, so odd, to feel a pang of lust after so many centuries. “I would see my mother consumed by her damned spiders. After that…” she shrugs. “I’ll admit to having a fondness for rebel princes, myself.”
“How convenient.”
And she enjoys his words from so many months prior. “Isn’t it just?”
#bg3 raphael#raphael bg3#raphael x tav#asks#my writing#he was originally gonna give her a smooch and change her eye color#but i still have a case study to write lol#please know that he shows up at her house in the Underdark after she's conquered#and they throw down
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How you meet them outside the Cafe
A series of shorts of you meeting the yan hybrids from my owner cafe series outside of the shop
Clyde/Spot [Rabbit Boy]
"Delivery for... Master?"
The word dies in the delivery boy's throat as the front door opens. You stand in the hall of your appartment, groggy from being woken up on your day off. Your barely conscious mind struggles to find the connection between the familiar face at first. Clyde choses to feign innocence as the pieces finally click; nearly dropping the package in hand as your lips form to his name.
"Sp-" You pause. "Clyde?"
He keeps his disappointment at bay with a shy smile. "Y-yea.. it's me. I thought the name on the order was familiar, but I didn't think it would really be you."
You prop against the doorframe, joining him in jollity as more memories cross your mind. "Oh, right- I remember you saying you did delivery work once."
Clyde wishes he could hide completely behind the box's small frame. He was prone to being bashful, but standing here, seeing you in your casual, comfortable environment was too much. If he tinted his head far enough, he could even see into your living room.
He scratches behind his ear to hide its tick. "Yea, I do bigger stuff on weekends, but on weekends I do food service if I need the extra cash. Um, this was from the bakery about a block over. I think it's a cake - not that I saw being noisy.
You take the box as he hands it over. Bit strange considering you didn't order anything, but free is free. Must be from a coworker. "'Sweet! Thank you so much for delivering this to me, Clyde. I'll be sure to thank you properly the next time you stop by the store."
He blushes. "It was my pleasure."
"Well, see you later!"
"S-see you soon, master." The word sits on his tongue as you shut the door, tainting it with the weight of his crime. Clyde slumps against your door. He's terrible - a horrible pet for lying to you like that; but it was the easiest way to confirm your location with looking directly through your window. He prays the bear along with the dessert will provide you with comfort at night - and that you don't squeeze it too hard.
Pauline/Belle [Cowwoman]
"We're here!"
You wake with a jolt as a large hand crashes around your shoulder. The woman to your left chuckles at your fright, offering you a hand to help you out of her truck. Leaning in to take it, she scoops you up by your arms and pulls you out herself. The bright sunlight warms your skin; cattle roaming freely in the distance.
"A beaut, ain't she?"
You nod in agreement as you look around her farm. As the head chef who quit a few months into your few year, Pauline often huffed about how she'd get this place fixed up and never look back when she was upset. Eventually that day would come, but there was one thing she couldn't leave behind.
Pauline sighs. "Yup, she's gorgeous, but nowhere near a knockout like you." She clears her throat as she glances your way. "Uh- anyway. Thanks for stopping by, Y/n. It gets real lonely round here without ya... And other folks, of course.
Saber [Catboy]
"Get the fuck out before they get here!"
A sharp hiss comes from behind a makeup room door, followed by a body shoved from its space. The figure in the doorframe sweeps the dust off their shirt and goes to sit back down; rushing to fix their hair and makeup as they spot you through the mirror.
"Y/n - Hello! What a wonderful surprise." The feline purrs, twisting in his chair to face you. His eyeshadow is uneven due to him booting his entire team before you came, but he still smiles at you like there wasn't a care in the world.
"Afternoon, Saber." You walk up to the table and set the bags you brought on it. His stomach grows as the scent of the food wafts through the air, but he plays it and his embarrassment off with a stretch.
Saber leans against the back of his chair. "Ah, I'm so glad the cafe started doing deliveries. With how many shoots there's been lately, I haven't had an hour to myself - or my needs."
The greedy cat strikes his claws up to the string of your apron, but you don't seem to notice as you pull the containers from the bag.
"I know. Management is still discussing renting us outside the cafe, but for now it's just the food." You turn and pat his head. "Sorry, kitty. I have other orders to take care of."
The calm in Saber's gaze turns frantic as he grabs onto your sleeve. "Wait! Before you go - feed me the first bite?"
Shanna/Bo [Sheep Girl]
After a long week of work, a small group of friends decided to take you out for the night to let off some steam. Standing in line for some club, the last thing you expect to see was a familiar face and a more recognizable pair of horns.
"Name?"
"Shanna?"
"That's not on the list... huh?" Trailing off, the slightly irritated look on the woman's face turns to shock and bashful. "Y-y/n?! What are you doing here?"
"I could ask you the same thing."
"My dad has me outside some nights for extra cash. Gosh - this is so embarrassing... D-do you wanna come in? Normally you'd need a reservation, but I can get you in no problem. I'll pay for whatever you want too."
"Shane! We need your help!"
Shanna flinches at the booming voice from within the bar. "Coming!" She looks back at you; the stress of whatever bothered her melting as she gazes into your eyes. She stammers. "Ah- I'll be right back. Please don't tell anyone I work here... or leave."
Prince [Hyena Boy]
Stepping off your final bus, you instinctively groan at the noise from the adjacent street. Your apartment was housed right across the street from a local college. Not quite upperclass, but definitely a name that was other here. Things normally weren't that loud, but with the end of the semester came chaos. You really needed to look for a new place to live.
"Boss? That you?"
You pay no mind to the person waving their arms in your direction - till they're running your way through busy traffic.
"Boss!"
As you finally turn to look, you're tackled by a body with the physique of an athlete; kept from falling by his swift movements as he twists on his heels and hugs you to his chest. You're damn near ready to toss him back into the streets when he starts to kiss all over your face, until his dog tags start to smack you in the chin.
"Ashur?"
The hyena whines as he lets you go. "Ah, man, don't call me that. Prince is way cooler - since it's the name ya gave me and all."
You look him up and down. He's wearing the colors of that school; and has a broken nose. "What are you doing here?"
Prince grins. "To fucking party, obviously! That and I got kicked outta my last school. Some bitch was dissing my collar and therefore you since your name's on it, so I had to beat his ass."
He points to his nose. "Trust me when I say this is nothin compared to him."
"Your collar has what now?"
Prince rubs his shoulders. "So what's going on? You live there?"
You nod as his gestures towards the building behind you. "Yeah. Been here for a couple years."
"Sweet! Let's head in! Maybe I'll look in to living here too!"
Prince follows behind you as you head up to your floor. He feels a little bad for lying to the fraternities that came to him in greeting - but he didn't come here for them.
Wisteria [Floral Monster]
"Hello, my dears. Have you missed me much?"
Visiting a museum on your day off, you're alerted to a familiar voice as you head out to the garden. A frequent ccustomerm and acquaintance of yours stands by a few rose bushes. With a wave of her hand, the drooping petals ripen to full glory.
"Wisteria?"
A new collection of flower buds spread across the entire field, and the woman's crown as she looks at you. The petals of the large rose in place of her upper face bleed from pure white to pink.
"Y/n? Is that you, darling? What a lovely surpise."
You join her side. "What are you up to?"
"Tending to my little sprouts. I was in charge of designing this garden when the museum was first built."
"Wasn't it built in the early 1900's?"
"They are like my children." Wisteria continues. "I've worked on countless projects, but they are the ones I find myself drawn to the most. I am happy you've finally met."
You wave at the flowers for some reason. Wisteria muffles a laugh.
"I don't mean to sound rude, but could you leave us for a while? I'd like to be alone with them a little while long."
"Oh - sure."
The second you're out of sight, the newly formered blossoms bloom. Wisteria plucks one, bringing it to their face.
"Yes, my loves. They are the one I've been speaking of. What do you think?"
Scout/Bear [Wolfman]
"Come on, little guy. Outta the cage."
Bus broken down on the road, you glance out the window only to find someone you'd seen countless times before. After hounding the bus driver to let you off, you sneak up on the man till your suspensions where confirmed.
"Scout?"
The cigarette held in his teeth falls from his lips from the fright. He stamps it out; aiming to avoid further scaring the racoon in the cagehe held. He hushes the creature as it chitters, setting the cage on the floor and waiting for it to scamper off before facing you. He takes off his coat and tosses in the the boot of his truck so the smell of ash won't reach you; looking down at you like he was in the middle of a dream he didn't want to wake from.
"Y/n. Thought my ears were playing a trick on me. What are you doing out here? It isn't safe to be out on your own."
You point at the bus. " Broke down. What were you doing?"
"Family called out a rodent infestation. It was just their son letting some poor raccoon into their home and feeding it chips. Wanted me to kill him, but they didn't care what I did long as it was gone."
"Oh.. That's sweet of you."
Bear leans against the bumper of his car; hiding the wag of his tail against its metal. He looks at you expectantly, before glancing away; hoping you'll ask for help first. It'll ease his conscious when he finally gets you on board; and remind him that eventually he'll have to begrudgingly let you leave.
"So.." He begins. "Need a ride?'
#Cafe tag#yandere#yandere oc#yandere x reader#yandere headcanons#yandere x you#yandere scenarios#yandere imagines#male yandere#yandere blurb#yandere insert#female yandere#yandere drabble#yandere x y/n#yandere hybrid#yandere teratophilia#yandere oneshot
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James's Forbidden Desires (NSFW)
Summary: He didn't know why he did it, maybe it was anger, maybe it was curiosity, but, impulsively, James leaned in closer to Barty’s face, his lips grazing the shell of his ear as he whispered soft, teasing words, all the while keeping eye contact with Remus. Barty's breath hitched at the sudden lick at his ear and groaned at the following rough bite at his earlobe. Without wasting a second, Crouch, still unknowing of Remus’ presence, pushed James into the wall, pulling the boy’s ankles close to his ears and pounded away, directly into James’ sweet spot.
Or
James’ two best friends/crushes (more like the loves of his life, you can only like someone for so many years until you have to admit it’s more than just a crush) were dating each other, leaving him lonely and with way too much free time. He had to find his way of coping, and it just so happened that Crouch was in need of coping too.
Ship: James Potter x Sirius Black x Remus Lupin
Tags: Not Actually Unrequited Love, Unrequited Love, Angst, Established Sirius Black/Remus Lupin, Barty Crouch Jr. & James Potter Friendship, Everyone Needs A Hug, James Potter Needs a Hug, Face-Fucking, Blow Jobs, Hand Jobs, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Being Walked In On, Friends With Benefits, Jealous Remus Lupin, Marauders Era (Harry Potter), Marauders, Marauders Friendship (Harry Potter)
As the soft moonlight filtered through the windows of the astronomy tower, James Potter’s hands wrapped around Barty Crouch Jr. with familiar ease. Barty let out a contented sigh, his head falling back in relaxation.
“Merlin James, you get better at this by the day,” Barty murmured, leaning into the touch.
A smirk made its way to James’ lips. “I have a very thorough instructor.”
At that, Barty let out a breathy chuckle. “That so, huh? I’ll have to send him my thanks… It’s like you have magic in those hands,” Barty murmured, head falling back.
James chuckled softly, a playful glint dancing in his eyes. "Well, I've been known to work wonders."
Barty's smirk grew wider as he moved more into James's touch. "I'm intrigued. Care to show me a few tricks?"
James leaned in closer, the warmth of his breath on him sending a shiver down Barty's spine.
But clearly, Barty was done with the dirty talk, because as soon as James’ mouth was close enough, he thrust into it, his own mouth opening in a silent moan.
The thrusts were rough and strong, no sweet talking or gentle pets of affection, even Crouch’s kisses were rough, the taste of blood still lingered on his lips. The force of his thrusts didn't allow his brain to make any coherent thought besides how good it felt. Just like James wanted, and needed. Anything to get his mind off of the reason why he’s here in the first place.
“We’re together, James… Me and Pads.” No! Merlin no, get those beautiful emerald eyes out of his mind, looking at him with what he could’ve sworn was pity. Remus deserved to be happy. Sirius deserved to be happy. They were perfect together, like the stars and the moon. You can’t think of one without thinking of the other. They made each other happy. Believe him, James knows this.
He’s seen the looks and smiles they share, so much love and so much longing. There was a time when he could make them smile that way too, but lately, it felt so distant. Part of that was his fault, he didn't stick around them long enough to make them smile.
He feels guilty for distancing himself, but he can't bear the pain when he sees them being passionate with each other. The forehead kisses, the hand holding, the hickeys and the scratch marks that he wished littered his body too, he’d show them off to everyone to see. Show everyone he belonged to them .
It wasn’t jealousy, he wished it was, at least he’d be able to feel angry about it. He felt longing, to be on the receiving end of the love they shared so openly, to fit right in with them. But in between all of that love, there was no space for James, he knew that for a fact.
Late nights unable to sleep, James spends long hours in the Gryffindor common room, burying himself in books or practicing spells to distract himself from the ache in his heart. He was too scared to go up there and see Sirius and Remus cuddled up in the same bed, looking so peaceful.
Flying through the air, James throws himself into Quidditch practice with reckless abandon, pushing his body to the limit to drown out the voice in his head that tells him he's not good enough for Sirius and Remus. He pretends not to notice their concerned glances from the sidelines, afraid to let them see his vulnerability.
Meals in the Great Hall, sitting at the Gryffindor table, James picks at his food, his appetite diminished by the knot of loneliness in his stomach. He joins in the laughter and chatter of his friends, but his mind is elsewhere, consumed by thoughts of Sirius and Remus and the love he can never have.
Walking through the streets of Hogsmeade, James keeps his distance from Sirius and Remus, convinced they're happier without him. He puts on a brave face, but inside, he's crumbling, desperate for a connection that seems just out of reach.
At parties, James dances with Peter, his movements stiff and mechanical as he tries to block out the memory of seeing Sirius and Remus lost in each other's arms. He avoids looking at them, afraid that if he does, they'll see the longing in his eyes.
Writing letters to his parents, James paints a picture of happiness and success, concealing the loneliness and heartache that gnaws at his soul. He avoids mentioning Sirius and Remus, afraid that if he does, the truth will come spilling out.
His friends don't deserve that, but every time he saw the passion and love in their eyes it was just a reminder that he didn't do that, that he wasn't a part of that love, and that it would never be directed at him.
He remembers the night after they told him they were together, how only after having no more tears to cry he went searching for Crouch. Begged him to make him forget them. Wouldn’t be the first time, Crouch and him had hooked up a handful of times before. Sirius would’ve killed him if he found out he was fraternizing with Crouch.
Crouch, by a divine coincidence, was too going through some romantic issues of his own, and fucking the pain away definitely sounded like a plan. Just like right now, James’ brain had been empty, the only thing he could process was the feeling of Crouch’s cock down his throat, and of his own fingers stretching him open, ready to take Crouch.
“Ngh, almost there… off. Off!” Crouch had to pry the brunette off his cock or he would’ve cummed right down his throat. But as good as that sounded, he had other plans for tonight. He pulled James up and switched places with him, slamming him into the wall and attacking his neck with bites.
Soon enough, James had to hold onto Crouch’s shoulders for dear life, his only support being the arms under his knees. Barty was pounding him like he was being paid to do it. How Crouch looked so skinny but could still bounce James’ body weight like a flesh-light was beyond him.
As the thrusts settled into a rhythm his mind got lost in the pleasure, however, when he noticed movement out of the corner of his eye, his pleasure-filled expression (he hadn’t even realised he was making) faltered, and he turned to see Remus entering the tower, his expression dark and intense.
James froze, his hands stilling on Barty's shoulders as he registered the presence of his best friend. His heart raced, and a mixture of guilt and anticipation flooded his senses. He couldn't believe Remus had walked in on this intimate moment between him and Barty.
The taller boy’s expression was a mix of shock and… anger. Remus's eyes flickered between James and Barty, his jaw clenched. Remus's eyes narrowed, something simmering beneath the surface, but he said nothing, his gaze locked on James with such intensity that it sent a jolt of electricity down James's spine. He felt exposed under Remus's piercing gaze, the air thick with unspoken tension. Despite the shock of being caught, a part of James couldn't deny the rush of excitement at Remus's unwavering gaze.
James couldn't tear his gaze away from Remus, his mind racing with a mixture of emotions. There was surprise at being caught like this, guilt for betraying the unspoken trust between them, and an undeniable flicker of something else – a longing that James had buried deep within himself over the past 2 months… Why should James feel guilty? What unspoken trust is he even talking about? Remus has Sirius, and Sirius has Remus. And they had no compromise with James, so what was with this reaction? What in the world made Remus think that he had any right to look at James like he’s just caught someone else playing with something that belongs to him? Why should James feel guilty about fucking someone else?!
He didn't know why he did it, maybe it was anger, maybe it was curiosity, but, impulsively, James leaned in closer to Barty’s face, his lips grazing the shell of his ear as he whispered soft, teasing words, all the while keeping eye contact with Remus. Barty's breath hitched at the sudden lick at his ear and groaned at the following rough bite at his earlobe. Without wasting a second, Crouch, still unknowing of Remus’ presence, pushed James into the wall, pulling the boy’s ankles close to his ears and pounded away, directly into James’ sweet spot.
James’ voice became a chorus of sweet meowls and “Ah, ah, ah”s but he never once took his gaze off of Remus. Kept glaring at him, over Barty’s shoulder, challenging him, a clear expression of ‘What?!’
But Remus did nothing, said nothing. In fact, he turned to leave. But not before he caught James’ lips forming the word:
“Coward.”
He froze for a moment, just like James had when he first walked in. James could see the frustration on the other boy’s face. An internal battle, over what he should do, over how he should respond, but James didn’t want to hear it, see it. He was so done with this, all of it. The emotions were too much, so he sought shelter in Crouch’s shoulder, trying to focus back on the pleasure. And if he flinched at the click of the door closing behind Remus, that was his own business.
If you'd like to read it on AO3:
(Still debating if I should continue or not, either way hope you enjoyed it! ^^)
#marauders#wolfstarbucks#sunkiller#unrequited love#not actually unrequited love#fanfic#starbucks#jealousy#angst#everyone needs a hug#james potter#remus lupin#sirius black#remus x sirius#james x remus#james x sirius#james x barty#barty crouch jr#barty crouch junior
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Exploring the dofus-la-serie.com website - Part 1
The website is kind of broken, which makes me quite sad. Though that's life for you.
Character Profiles:
I am not translating this because as fans of this franchise, you probably know all of these words. (Well, except gouvernante. That can mean "housekeeper". He isn't calling her their governor. Though she should be.)
I am not even going to mention that Kerubim is here twice. Sometimes, a second Kerubim appears in a random spot among the characters while going to this page or refreshing it. Just another one fun thing about this being an eleven-year-old website for a series that has been over for years.
I wonder if, in-universe, he's the one who drew on their portraits, or if it was Joris's doing, influenced by Kerubim's stories?
Love how Atcham isn't mentioned, but his pandawa drinking buddy is. Also, that neither of them have commentary by him.
The character pages themselves have unique character art:
As well as short descriptions of the characters.
Because the entire site is saved on web archive, and probably won't go down anytime soon, (despite its buggy state,) and these not offering any new, groundbreaking information — I will not be posting most of them here, save for the main ones:
Joris:
Kerubim:
Also, a note: this calls him a "papa poule", which I decided to google, to hilarious results:
Thank you, dofus-la-serie.com... for everything. I already noticed, in the past posts, that it's actually weird and off-putting that Joris has no friends, and that it might be Kerubim's fault, but we never really see him make parenting decisions (COUGH-COUGH-COUGH besides the decision to constantly endanger and neglect Joris but EHHH I spent 50+ posts talking about that in the show liveblogs) in the series due to its slice of life format.
I'm glad to know that at least one canonical source describes him as overprotective, bearing, and anxious parent, (but not to a helicopter-parent level). That's actually quite valuable!
Simone:
Pupuce:
Multiple notes here:
The description does not seem to use explicitly masculine pronouns for Pupuce, who, as we know from Joris, is a girl. This is just an error on the Google Translate's part.
PUPUCE IS A CAT KIN/CAT FURRY????????????
You know what, actually considering Joris himself is a cat furry, but in a much more subtle, subdued way, her being his pet is a match made in heaven. Two creatures who wish they could be cats, breaking bread and drinking tea together. Love wins.
The broken "find the object" minigame:
One can only be thankful that it's not more broken — because 2013 was prime time for flash games, and yet, this game does not seem to use flash technologies.
When you click anywhere on the screen itself, instead of the UI, the game, and the page itself freezes. It's a shame — I bet the game was fun, back when it worked.
I had taken it upon myself to download and archive the music from the minigame, so, here it is:
Using archive.org I was able to get to the next page, the link to which is usually invisible and also unclickable in the minigame:
Kerubim's Collection (link included so you don't have to suffer like I did)
It's quite a long list, with many items, but I am not Ronik, this show's biggest, and probably, by now, only fan, if I don't read all of this and bring the most interesting parts to you.
Firstly, thankfully, all of these are, for the most part lore-less. Just little blurbs of the episodes those appear in, whether you can find them in-game, and a hint as to where to find this in the broken minigame. But there are some gems:
Kerubim doesn't like Joris's photography hobby (...I sure do wonder why!)
HE'S A SORE LOSER ABOUT WHAT HAPPENED IN THE NOFFOUB EPISODE. LMAO. "Deceitful Osamodas"....
"I'm cautious" "Simone whyyy did you put it here??" How these two people hadn't killed Joris fr is still beyond me.
He's genuinely insane.
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Happy Friday! I've been lucky enough to have a lazy, rainy Friday where I get to cuddle on the sofa with my pets and relax while reading fic, specifically, the lovely fic that's been recced by @candybarrnerd, also known as icarusinflight on AO3. I had read their fics before, but was very lucky to have the chance to get to know them better through their contribution to the Pride in the Library series. My favorite thing about having guests join in the library is that it gives me the opportunity to make new fandom friends. It's been so lovely to get to know Le better, and I know that you'll love the recommendation they have for you!
Hello! I would like to thank thedrarrylibrarian for giving me the chance to do one of these! When they asked me I was so delighted to say yes, and when I looked through my bookmarks to see if there was anything that I wanted to rec, I knew I had the fic. Something that just hit all the spots for me. Something that really just, it's a me fic. I hope there are some other people out there that will find it enjoyable too!
The Words that Pass Between Us by Overwatched (10,049 words, rated T)
Sometimes, Draco draws pictures of what could have been, had he made all the right choices: Draco in the Slug Club; Draco holding the Quidditch World Cup; Draco holding hands with some nameless, faceless person whose become some sick, secret sort of friend. He’s on every page Draco has touched. He flies with him, sleeps with him, laughs with him. And sometimes, if he pretends hard enough, Draco swears he can feel this person’s breath against his neck; a whispered I love you that has him pressing into the mattress every night, only to wake up alone, wishing it were real.
This is a fic that was made for the HP Consent Fest - if you're what probably passes for fandom old you might remember this fest. It came out of a discussion about how many common tropes (and commonly in hp) have dub-con or non-con aspects and then it morphed into HP Consent fest. The fest gave us some absolutely wonderful fics, and I treasure many of them.
This fic is… it has a feel. It has that feeling of being alone, that feeling of knowing you messed up and are facing the consequences. But also of being mad about that - and also the resentment when you feel like you are being pitied (whether you are or not). It's about being a mess of a person, of being messy as a person. It's a complex mix of a fic, and one that sits deep in the feelings, something that if you read my fics you probably know to associate with me.
The Draco in this fic is not redeemed - he is still hanging onto resentments.
But this fic is one that doesn't shy away from that. It deals with Draco's shittiness, it deals with his pain, and in that actually deals with Draco working on becoming a better person, sits with that and lets you watch who this person really is.
The fic deals with recovery a lot, and finding comforts, and the pain when that is challenged
They don’t see him tugging at his hair, angry he will bear this Mark forever, wondering if his father will ever come home, and wondering how anyone – let alone himself – could find forgiveness in their heart for everything he’s done.
This fic is a character study, or a love letter, or both. To Draco but also every character in Harry Potter, every character who was a person too, with their own hopes and loves and desires. In reading this fic again for this I was reminded of just how much and all the reasons why I love this fic, and made tender all over again over it.
I hope if you read it, you find some of that love in it.
Thank you so much, icarusinflight, for the joining me in the Library today, and providing an excellent rainy day read! I know the library patrons will enjoy your recommendation as much as I did!
❤️ As always, if you find a fic you enjoy, please remember to leave the author a kudos or a comment! ❤️
Lots of Love and Happy Friday!
#fic rec#drarry fic rec#icarusinflight#candybarrnerd#friends of the library#drarry#harry potter#draco malfoy#harry x draco#friday fic rec#friday fanfic recommendation#happy hour#friday happy hour#lots of love and happy friday#lots of love and happy reading
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Tears
Originally written April 2022
Masterlist
Genre: angst, comfort
Ship(s): Satan X MC
(genderless MC)
Trigger/content warnings: mental breakdown, self-blame, lesson 16 spoilers
Headcanons/notes from the author: The spoilers for lesson 16 are immediate so no before-the-cut paragraph and the blurb is more vague than usual sorry lol
Brief Blurb: Satan and MC cry.
A few days had passed since the incident with Belphegor, and you had not left bed. You had been given death, and somehow came back despite how much you wished you hadn’t. The only company you had liked the past few days was from Satan. He was very quiet, only sitting on the edge of the bed and running his fingers through your hair whenever he came in. You didn’t have to speak, and he didn’t either. It was a connection that the two of you shared after being a couple so long.
Your bedroom door very quietly squeaked, then squeaked again. Satan’s familiar footfalls sounded, then the creak from your mattress as he sat in his usual spot. The two of you sat there in silence for a while, and for a moment you thought he might say something… but he didn’t. He simply played with your hair like always. Your body relaxed at his touch, and you listened to his breaths as they got more unstable with the passage of time. This wasn’t how it had been the last few days…
Slowly, you rolled over to look at him. Fat tears raced down his cheeks, and he had a black eye, a bloody nose… “Satan…? What happened?”
He stared at the wall, sniffled, then glanced at you. “G-Got in a fight with Belphegor.”
“Why…?” you questioned, genuinely confused. Nobody else seemed to care about what the avatar of sloth had done to you, so this had to be unrelated.
“He killed you…” mumbled Satan, voice shaking. “I… hate him…”
Attempting to smile, you told him, “I’m still here, Satan…”
“You’re… in pain…”
“Satan…”
“Why else would you be bedridden…?” Satan began to suffocate on sobs that were sneaking up on him. “I did nothing to stop it…” He violently wiped his face, crying and wheezing. “Y-You… Y-You must be in s-so m-much mental a-anguish…”
You couldn’t bear how heartbroken he sounded, but couldn’t lie to him as comfort. Satan would see through your lies, and it would only upset him more. “It’s not your fault, Satan…”
“I-It is…” he insisted, crying quickly becoming hysterical the more he attempted to calm himself. “I-I am s-s-so sorry… I-I’m s-sorry you got d-dragged d-down h-here…”
“Satan, it’s fine—”
“N-No it’s n-not!” he wailed, rubbing his fists into his eyes. “Y-You’re s-s-so uns-safe h-here! Y-Y-You haven’t ev-ven been a-allowed to s-stay with the o-other h-h-hum-man!” He sniffled and wiped his face, but he couldn’t stop crying after letting out the built up frustration. “Y-Y-You should be th-the one who’s c-crying, b-but y-you d-didn’t e-even b-bat an e-eye at th-them letting B-Belph-phie off the h-hook!”
“I didn’t want you to worry,” you told him gently, feeling tears well up in your eyes. “That’s all…”
“H-How could I n-n-not w-worry!?” he sobbed, burying his face in his hands. “Y-You j-just… I-I l-love you! I l-love you s-so m-much…”
“I love you so much too, Satan.” Carefully, you pulled him down to lay with you. He cooperated without any struggle, quickly burrowing into your shoulder. “I’ll be fine, kitten…” you cooed, petting his hair.
“N-Now you’re c-c-comf-forting me… I-I’m s-sorry…” he muttered. “I-I w-wanted t-to comf-fort you… N-Not the o-other w-w-way around…”
“I know, Satan…” you assured him quietly. “I know you didn’t mean to cry, but you keep so many emotions in; it was bound to happen.” You pulled him close to yourself, and he snuggled into the crook of your neck. Blinking out a few tears, you gave him a soft squeeze. “I’ll be okay… I’ve got you, after all.”
“P-Please… nev-ver go a-away a-ag-gain…”
#satan x mc#mc x satan#satan#mc#gn mc#obey me! one master to rule them all#obey me! shall we date?#obey me!#obey me#omomtrta#omswd#om#fanfiction#fanfic#darlingficsbycinna#iwannawritelots
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Thank you for the tag Fray @bg3!! I did my skrunklies for this one...
Name:
Fafern. It’s a name she and Odret came up with, and they've forgotten the name her parents had given them, but it’s alright with them, she much prefers Fafern.
Odret isn't quite sure where he got his name from, but just between you and I, when he was but a small wyrmling, he overheard a traveler say “Oh drat” and took a liking to the word and still goes by that name.
Nickname(s):
Fee or Faa both do, or maybe even Fee-fi-fo-fum
Odret has a few nicknames, though usually only Fafern calls him any of them. The Orchid is a title he was given while he still lived, and Fafern often calls him Den, occasionally she referring to him as ‘home’
Gender:
Fafern doesn’t really identify with anything in particular, to her gender is a potion being mixed in a pot. Is okay with she/they
As for Odret, I don’t know if dragons do gender the same way we do honestly. Uses he/him pronouns.
Star sign:
Fafern is a boar and Odret is wolf
Height:
Both are tall in their own right, Fafern is 6’2 and Odret is 7’9
Orientation:
Fafern is demisexual/romantic
Odret is pansexual/romantic
Nationality/Ethnicity:
Fafern grew up in a village in the forest in a little known spot in Faerun. They remember a calm river near her home, but that’s about all they can and want to remember of that place.
Odret on the other hand lived in the forest surrounding the village. He on the other hand remembers well how to get back to his home forest.
Favourite fruit:
Lemons. She fucking loves lemons. They can’t eat many in a row but she does love them.
Odret on the other hand likes grapes. Honestly, if he could, he’d eat nothing but grapes. He fuckin hates wine because he thinks its a waste of grapes
Favourite season:
Fafern loves winter, the snow, the cold, the snuggling, they love it all.
Odret likes autumn, it’s usually not too hot, not too cold, it rains often and while the mud is a little annoying, he enjoys the rain nonetheless. It’s also the harvest season which means there’s grapes galore-
Favourite flower:
Dude they love dandelions SO much. If you see her in a field of dandelions, watch out; you will get a flower crown.
Odret doesn’t really have a favorite, but if he had to choose he’d pick belladonna
Favourite scent:
Fafern really likes the scent of wood smoke.
Odret on the other hand likes pine smell.
Coffee, tea, or hot chocolate:
Fafern would pick hot chocolate and Odret would pick tea. Both hate coffee
Average hours of sleep:
Around 9. The whole “travel with a group” experience hasn’t been fun, considering they're pretty much nocturnal at this point
Odret doesn't sleep on the account of being a skeleton. When he did sleep he usually slept around 7-8 hours
Dog or cat person:
In all honestly Fafern likes bears the most.
Odret likes birds. They don't try to steal his bones.
Dream trip:
A barn. Not even joking, she just wants to pet the animals. Please take them to a zoo.
Odret wants to go to a small cabin by the waterfront. He really wants to go to a small cabin by the waterfront.
Favourite fictional character:
Whatever the Faerun’s equivalent of Winnie the Pooh is
Faerun’s Winnie the Pooh also.
Number of blankets they sleep with:
If she has more than 1 she will die.
When he lived he didn’t need any, as he slept in owlbear form, and now as he’s dead he doesn’t need any, but sleeps with one as Fafern keeps giving him one
Random fact:
They like to paint on fallen tree barks and rocks, and then leaves them behind for others to find, or gifts it to a friend.
One time he slept for a whole year. Wish that were me.
#ough my babies my children born to suffer. they would give up everything for one another. they would die for each other#they would live for each other they would refuse to let the other die they would defy the will of gods#they will always choose each other. they r besties#fafern#odret#ougf I could talk about them for hours
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plagas; leon.
a/n: in the midst of some writer’s block i stumbled upon an old concept i never finished. enjoy some good ol’ plaga leon <3
warnings: parasitic possession, yandere leon, female reader, violence, blood, groping, leon’s teasing is just straight up bullying, pet names, almost noncon, slight boot kink, chasing.
word count: 1.9k
“Leon..?”
The sun had set on your terrifying journey, and cast a shadow over the room you'd found yourself trapped inside. Not by locks this time, or villagers, or Saddler himself...but by the person you had trusted throughout this entire nightmare. The man that had saved your life stood between you and your only way out, and even then, you doubted that you'd be able to escape if you managed to slip past him. The road home was so long and the stifling, smothering Spanish heat had made way for a chilling cold that breezed through your body in the night and froze you to your spot.
And Leon was gone. His mind and body had succumbed to the disease he'd been injected with, the parasite that he'd protected you from...but instead of saving you, now all you felt was panic, fear, and dread when you looked into his eyes.
“You can’t suck the poison out of this wound, sweetheart...but I won’t stop you if you wanna give it a try.”
Leon took slow steps around you, his footsteps echoing in the marble hall of the castle as he eyed you up like you were his prey, while his fingers spasmed and twitched at his sides, like they were itching to either grab you or wrap themselves tightly around your throat. So much had happened since he'd rescued you from the farmhouse, and reassured you with infectious confidence that everything would be okay. It felt like a lifetime that you'd known him, even if in reality you'd only spent less than a day together--but running and hiding and waiting for Leon to dispatch any threats made the hours seem so long and torturous. You prayed for his safety at every turn, and felt terror grip your heart as you waited for him to come back and retrieve you from hiding…
And now you were here.
"Saddler wants me to kill you, you're not worth the hassle to him. But to me...you're my treasure. Mine."
The way that word rolled off his tongue sounded like an echo in your brain. He said it once before, and it stuck with you awhile--but hearing him say it now was like having it permanently seared into your head.
It wasn’t a secret anymore. You’d fallen in love with Leon, as so many had before. You fell for his confidence, his strength, his effortless teasing and sincere concern for your safety, and maybe it was all just backed by your appreciation for him saving your life and playing the hero so well. But even if it was temporary, you were in love and you wanted him to survive just as much as he wanted to save you, and even if he succeeded and brought you home just for you to never see each other again, there would always be a part of you that loved him, and you had accepted that fact.
But things had changed. Seeing Leon no longer filled you with relief and happiness, that smug grin on his lips as he greeted you after fighting off monsters you could only imagine in nightmares. He took a step towards you, and this time you took a huge one back--and he chuckled, his tone dark and biting, before continuing on and piercing through you with blood-coloured irises.
"I found you, I get to keep you. Finders keepers, huh sweetheart? That's fair, isn't it?"
His gaze held nothing less than a deep, ravenous hunger within him, the unsettling smirk on his face in no way easing that tension that weighed heavily on your mind.
“Maybe I’m just a monster, now...if I am, then so be it. If being a monster means seeing that look on your face forever, then I gotta say, it feels pretty damn good!”
"Y-You're not Leon!"
His shoulders suddenly tensed like he was about to lunge for you, but letting him have the upper hand would mean the end for you. You knew that fact so well that you acted on instinct, and unsheathed the knife whose handle you'd been stealthily gripping this whole time, to stab it into the eye of the man you wished you could have a life with. And you missed, the realization both relieving and terrifying, as the blade clanged and stuck into the wall behind him and barely clipped a few strands of his light-coloured hair.
"Is this my knife? Now that's pretty cute,"
A shudder violently wracked your body as Leon's tongue slipped past his lips, and he turned his head to lick a slow stripe up the gleaming, bloodstained blade. He'd ended plenty of lives with that thing, but it seemed as though his own had yet to be one of them.
"I've played the hero long enough. I want a reward for all my hard work...I want you."
His hand crept up your waist before you could react to it, rough fingers spreading warmth through your stomach as they grazed the exposed skin of your hip. But once you tried to break away from the touch you wished you didn't crave more of, his other hand shot out to grab you by the waist and keep you pressed uncomfortably close to his body, so close that your lips were mere centimeters from his neck and breathing in gave you a good whiff of that faint scent of cologne that still lingered on his skin.
"Don't fight me, pet. I can already hear you crying for me to use you...you know, you're so cute when you're scared."
You squirmed even still, thrashing and shoving against his chest to try and find some way to twist out of his hold--but moving him was like trying to push a brick wall, and his grip on you got tighter and tighter until you whimpered with pain. The things he was saying just didn't make any sense, and you never wanted the real Leon more than you did in this moment. Knowing what it felt like to have his strength used against you instead of to protect you...it was becoming too much to bear, and in your terror you found comfort in Leon's touch again even if it was brief, his thumbs rubbing circles into your skin and working to relax you enough that you weren't so tense.
"You're gonna forget all about that fear when I'm balls deep inside you."
What little comfort you found was gone once he whispered that into your ear. You felt your eyes widen and Leon's fingers worked their way under the waist of your shorts in a moment, the danger so imminent that your reaction ripped itself from your throat in a scream, and you returned to struggling against the unmistakable stiffness that dug into your inner thigh through his tight pants.
"Leon, stop!"
You wailed, beating your fist against his chest and even catching him in the jaw, not that you really noticed in your frenzy nor did he react save for his brow furrowing in fury. It didn't last forever though, it was easy for him to use his leverage to shove you off, your back hitting the ground hard enough to sting while he loomed over you and watched with sick glee as you trembled too hard to get up.
"You don't want me to stop. Be honest, doll."
You weren't expecting this kind of violence from him, especially not when he brought his foot down right between your legs, as was evident by the way you shrieked and tears pricked at your eyes at once. Somehow he managed to aim the heel of his boot right at your clit, and you were certain now that it was by no way an accident by the way he ground into it in slow circles, and watched with a smirk as your hips shakily followed his rhythm of their own volition.
"You want me to take everything from you, and I swear to you I will. I'll strip you of every inch of your pathetic life and make you mine."
The pressure was starting to hurt, and your arms shot out to grab his calf and try in vain to wrench him off of your sensitive areas. It seemed to just entertain him, however, and his taunts were starting to sting your broken heart even more than any physical pain he had inflicted. Even worse was watching him lick his lips as he reveled in your suffering, and one of his hands descended beneath the belt of his trousers to stroke himself under the tent that was so clearly obvious. He loved watching you in pain, and nothing but rage bubbled up in your chest from the humiliation of loving somebody so depraved, even if he wasn't really Leon anymore.
"I hate you,"
You muttered through gritted teeth, trying so hard to hold back your tears that your whole body was shaking. He let slip a soft moan as he twisted his grip on his cock, and didn't stop even as he focused those bloodred eyes on yours and growled in time with an especially rough tug.
"Liar."
Leon's grip fastened on your shoulder, but instead of pushing you back down to the filthy ground, he yanked you forwards and crushed your lips against his. Nothing but heat and the scent of blood overwhelmed your senses, your eyes fluttering closed when he started sucking on your lower lip and grazing it with his teeth. You wanted to hate the shivers that snaked up and down your spine from his kiss, but when it was from the man you still loved, it was difficult to brush those feelings aside. It wasn't impossible, however, because when he prodded past your lips with his tongue and moved in close enough for you to feel his cock twitching through his pants, panic flared up in your throat and you bit down on instinct, the coppery tang of his blood flooding your mouth at once. Leon shoved you off him much harder this time, but with the pain causing him to stagger you managed to scramble to your feet and back away a few steps to get some distance. But the fear of turning your back to him kept you frozen in place.
"You wanna be a brat, huh?"
Despite inflicting some much deserved pain, his glare barely wavered as he pulled his hand from his pants and wiped the blood that dribbled from his mouth, eyes gleaming with a lust for violence that you feared right now more than ever.
"I'll let you have a ten second head start then, sweetheart. Better hurry."
You hesitated, his offer confusing you for a moment, but once the realization dawned on you your feet moved on their own. Sore and stained with tears and blood, you tore off down the castle corridors to search for an escape, and if not, then just a place for you to hide until Leon gave up on you, which would never happen. The thought of monsters barely dwelled in your mind when the most dangerous one was Leon himself, but little did you know that it would only take a short while for you to realize how fragile you really were when he wasn't protecting you, and that escaping without him was just simply not possible.
"...Cheeky little slut. Let's just see how far you get before you come crawling back to me."
#yandere leon kennedy#yandere leon kennedy x reader#yandere leon x reader#leon kennedy x reader#yandere lemon#yandere resident evil#resident evil#resident evil 4#love-toxin#1k
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deserved // Zhongli x Reader (NSFW)
Word Count: ~2k
Notes: female reader, Zhongli/Reader, established relationship, just two people who love each other exploring what the other enjoys, NSFW (see below)
nsfw mentions: spanking/humiliation, brat!reader, dom!zhongli, dom/sub dynamics, implied afab, penetration, kink exploration!!
Summary: "There are certainly many things I am not knowledgeable on, and this is one of them." Zhongli says (modestly, in your opinion), "But human pleasure and pain have... always been complexly intertwined, and if this is something that will provide you that joy, then I would like to try-- for you."
So you want him to wield a harder hand-- he can do that.
.
.
.
"You would like me to... hit you?" Zhongli asks hesitantly, his furrowed brows and hesitance a clear sign of his confusion.
"Well, yes, but in a very specific way," you explain very clinically. He has always liked that about you, being able to keep a level head and being upfront about topics of importance or about things that would have normally been embarrassing for other people. It makes your points clear, which is ever so helpful with the many human things he has yet to comprehend. "Spanking over the knee as punishment, more specifically."
"Punishment?" Zhongli echoes. He is familiar with the term but he would have never associated its need when it comes to you. "Why would I punish you?"
At this, you give him a playfully withering look. "Zhongli, you can't possibly say I don't mess up sometimes and show up late or forget to do something." You tease, "There's plenty to punish me for."
"But... I do not wish to punish you for those," Zhongli protests, and you feel yourself soften when he holds onto your hand, insistent. "Bound to contracts as I am, I would never cause harm upon you, regardless of mistakes such as those."
"I know," you say softly. "Sorry, I guess that wasn't very clear. But I meant... you would 'punish' me for... 'misbehaving.'" At his increasingly concerned look, you laugh. "I think it makes sense if you view it in a more sexual way, babe." (Zhongli feels himself flush at the way one of the pet names you have given to him rolls off your tongue so naturally.)
"You're not really mad at me," you continue, "but you can act like you are mildly displeased in order to punish me for something I did- or I guess, in this case, for what I didn't do. Like, listen to you, or something."
"I see." Zhongli pauses thoughtfully. "And this would be enjoyable to you? I will not be causing you harm by doing this?"
"Well, if it did, I agreed to try it, and I could always let you know to stop," you say, reminding him. "Our safe word and all." You crack a smile. "And I think the physical harm is part of the pleasure. As well as the emotional. But since I know you aren't really hitting me because you, I don't know, hate me or something, it should be fine."
"I don't hate you," Zhongli replies immediately. "I love you."
You feel your heart clench at the easy admission of his feelings for you and squeeze his hands. "I know. I love you too." You clear your throat. "Which is exactly why I trust you to do this with me and be able to enjoy it."
"We can always try again if it doesn't work out," you say. "But are you okay with doing this?"
"There are certainly many things I am not knowledgeable on, and this is one of them." Zhongli says (modestly, in your opinion), "But human pleasure and pain have... always been complexly intertwined, and if this is something that will provide you that joy, then I would like to try-- for you." You beam at his response and Zhongli feels comforted by the fact that you have always been patient and have proven to be so even now.
"We'll work it out," you tell him. "But you have verbal consent to do it whenever you think is appropriate... though I think I can probably act in a way that'll make it easy for you."
Zhongli blinks. "What do you mean, my dear?"
Your eyes twinkle.
.
.
.
You are a playful person at heart, and Zhongli thinks that has been one of the (many) reasons why he is in love with you the way he is. You bring levity into his life, a sense of appreciation for the world around you that is simple in its beauty, finding joy wherever it can be found. He is not surprised to find himself faced with a very similar attitude in the bedroom where you tease and coax, making him feel the need to hold you down and claim you as his (much to your delight).
("You are a minx," he mutters into the crook of your neck that he had, not a moment ago, ravaged with lovebites. You only laugh, hugging his head and pulling him closer, the marks on your body the spoils of victory.)
Zhongli understands now what you meant how it would be a natural progression to introduce your latest kink when you decide to rock yourself onto him with a mischievous gleam in your eyes. Pay attention to me, your hands say, trailing over his shoulders seductively. Notice me.
The book in his hand will always pale in comparison when it comes to you; you need not have tried to demand his attention at all when you could simply ask for it. But as a result, he had requested a few minutes to read, to which you would have normally acquiesced to quite easily. But today, he finds that you are impatient, almost impudent in the way you demand his attention.
A brat.
His heart beats steadily faster than usual (but it always is when it comes to you) when he says your name firmly, a hard tone in his voice that has not been there before. You notice immediately. Zhongli almost wants to look at your reaction if the way you freeze is any indication of how his tone affected you.
So you want him to wield a harder hand-- he can do that.
"Will you not listen to me?" He asks, hand curling around the small of your back. His hands have always been much bigger than yours, but at the moment it seems ever more expansive with the way he commands the room. "Do you need my attention that badly?"
Your retort is quick and sharp in a futile attempt to gain the upper hand, despite the way your cheeks redden. "No," you say immediately, eyes trailing down his unbuttoned shirt collar. "I was... just bored is all."
You gasp when he grabs hold of your wandering hands, his eyes flashing dangerously when he speaks. "How unfortunate. For you to disturb my peace and to lie to me..." Zhongli says calmly, "I believe we need a reminder for you on how to behave properly."
"Get on my lap, since you want to be on it so much, and I'll make sure you remember clearly." You open your mouth to protest and he shoots you a sharp look. "I will not say it a second time."
You glare at him, but that is all you do in protest. Quietly, you swing your leg off of him and delicately place yourself onto his lap, your head hanging down from one end and your legs on the other. Zhongli watches, mesmerized, as you 'reluctantly' submit to his words and display yourself for him with pressed lips, a heated face, and a subtly hidden look of anticipation.
Zhongli takes your consent in mind and does not ask before he sweeps your skirt up to your hip, making you jerk in surprise. He temporarily admires the round of your ass, the fullness of your cheeks, and thinks for the first time that he may enjoy watching how it bounces from the impact of his hand. His rubbing on the curve of your right buttock is the only warning you get before he raises his hand and spanks your ass.
The involuntary sound you make from impact is obscene.
Judging from the way you clamp your mouth with both hands, Zhongli thinks you hadn't anticipated doing such a thing either, and if anything, that makes it all the more attractive for him to have heard it. He looks back at your ass and decides you can take another hit if not a few more. (For both yours and his sake, it is a good thing indeed.)
Zhongli hits the same spot for good measure, and you gasp, back curling slightly as a response. He smacks your other side soundly, earning him another sound; grabbing your ass into his hands before spanking it again consecutively makes you cry out again in a way that makes it evident that it's from pleasure rather than pain.
It goes straight into his cock, and Zhongli has to resist the thought of it hardening for now.
You are covering your mouth from embarrassment, however, and that won't do.
"Put your hands by your sides," Zhongli commands, making you freeze. "This is your punishment; I intend to hear every sound that comes from your mouth."
You place your hands to the side, your fingers digging into his leg to resist the urge to move it back. "Z-Zhongli," you stammer out, wiggling your lower half.
Zhongli takes a gander and slips his hand into your panties and comes out with his fingers wet.
"You're dripping," Zhongli says bluntly. He glances at you as you reflexively hide your face in embarrassment, only to quickly place it down in memory of his command. "How long have you been aroused, dearest? How long did you go wanting me until it was too much to bear?"
You whimper in response, your ass wriggling in his firm hold. "Hold still," he tells you, and when you plant your feet firmly onto the ground stubbornly, he slaps your ass again. A few times, for good measure-- a symphony of gasps falling from your lips, and you stop moving immediately.
The power over you, and the enjoyment you take from being controlled, is intoxicating.
"Good girl," he says instead, trailing a hand down your thigh in praise. Your hand grip into his leg in response, ass rising ever so slightly as though to urge him to continue-- though it has long stopped being a 'punishment' for you anyways.
Zhongli takes care to spank mainly on the convex of your ass, lovingly swatting below and upon your thigh to shock a lovely gasp from your lips. He watches as you rub your legs together in an attempt to abate the sting of the spank and relieve the tension below. When you become muted, he takes a peek at your expression and feels his breath leave him at how your lips are slightly parted, panting, and your eyes glazed over with pleasure.
Utterly submissive, he thinks, watching as you choke out another sound in between a gasp and whine. You may be enjoying yourself thoroughly, but he thinks he enjoys this kink of yours (and his, too now) if you end up looking irresistible like this, in a different way from the way you can dominate him, fucked out and completely pliant for him.
"Did you learn your lesson at all, I wonder," he says, gently tracing his fingers on your tender cheeks. When you nod your head furiously at his question, sniffling, he smiles, rubbing soothing circles onto your back. "You were very good for me, darling, taking all that for me.” He allows you to maneuver yourself until you are delicately straddling him again. He kisses at the plump of your cheeks, holding out his hand so you may sit comfortably on him without rubbing yourself raw with your already sensitive skin. In response, you melt into him, burying your face into the crook of his neck as you wrap your arms around him, and his heart feels full to bursting with affection for you and the vulnerability you have allowed him to see.
"I'll take care of you, my love," he says. "I have a soothing balm that will surely be of great use; I'll pull up a bath for you and make you comfortable."
Zhongli is surprised when you pull yourself away from him to see your pout, adorably petulant, your hand roaming down to where his cock has been hard for the past session.
"My darling is greedy today, aren't you?" He teases and chuckles when you make a disgruntled noise even as you unbutton his shirt and unzip his pants. "No? You aren't greedy?" He helps you pull his pants down as he lifts himself up, grinding himself onto you. "You can be if you so wish," he says, as you look at him pleadingly.
He could have demanded you to speak to him and tell you what you wanted, but he decides against it. He aids you when you line yourself up for him and carries you down gently when you sink yourself onto him. The look on your face is pure bliss, and you have never looked more like a temptation.
Zhongli bites onto your exposed collarbone and lets you ride out your high for as long as you desire. It is, after all, what you deserve.
#zhongli x reader#zhongli smut#genshin impact x reader#genshin smut#female reader#oh to have an adult conversation about consensual sex
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In the dark mirror au, have their been instances were kittypet queens kinda just expect their kits to be taken and make sure that they're ready? Like, Thunderclan breaks into a Twoleg nest and instead of fighting the queen, she's just like "I've got two mollies and a tom, one of the mollies is a little small, though I think she's big enough to still go with you. I gave them forest-y names; Pebble, Fern, and Sparrow, please let them keep their names as a final gift from their mother."
Has something like that ever happened?
Wow, that's depressing...
So, I must put it in:
Story below the cut:
Paprika was a fool.
She had known of the raids the forest cats sometimes launched on the neighborhood cats. She had known of the kits that had been stolen and of mothers and fathers who had been injured when they tried to protect them.
Yet, she had also known that the raids were rare, more often done on loners, rogues, and city cats. The forest cats didn't want to draw the ire of the humans by attacking their pets too often. Rather, their attacks on the neighborhood were more often made at those who had strayed too close to their beloved trees.
So, Paprika had dismissed the concerns of her friend Trixie when she'd told her of her plans to have kits. The last raid the forest cats had been just about a month ago. Often, they only happened two or three times a year. Paprika had seen a number of kittens born, grow, and be given their own housefolk.
Paprika had always wanted kits, little ones running around under her paws. She'd daydreamed of the things she would teach them. Like, the best places to sharpen your claws, the names of types of birds that came around the feeder, how to get your housefolk to scratch the itch you couldn't reach, and so much more. And, like the idiot she was, she'd decided that it was safe to finally have her own.
She'd been given birth to three precious kittens three months later. Two mollies and a tom. Two weeks went by without issue. Parenting was a little harder than she anticipated, but with the help of her housefolk, she took to it rather easily. The kittens had opened their eyes and ears and explored the world that was the basket in the kitchen.
A week later, a forest cat had been spotted four houses from her own. It had simply walked along the fence, looking into houses, and disappeared about an hour later. Paprika kept a closer eye on her kittens. They had begun to babble, weakly attempting to mimic her own words.
Two nights after that, the cat was seen again. Two houses from her own. It had done the same thing, watching the houses, before going off once again. Paprika decided to stay in the house instead of spending her mornings and evenings outside chatting with the neighborhood cats and dogs. Her kits had started mewing their first word. "Mama"
Two nights later, Paprika was awoken by nothing. Her kittens lay sound asleep next to her. She gave each of them a lick on the head, heart warming as they purred contently. Her housefolk had gone to bed a little earlier than usual. She could hear him snoring away. With a yawn, she turned her head towards the window. She froze.
Wide, orange eyes locked onto narrowed, green ones. Paprika had never seen a forest cat before. It was big, far bigger than her. She couldn't see much of its details as it had its back turned to the light of the moon. But she could see its eyes slide over to where her kittens were nestled against her, and the glint of fangs as its mouth parted into a wide, wicked grin.
Paprika bristled, alarm shooting through her body. She turned in the direction of her housefolk's room, wondering if she could wake him up before the forest cat could try anything. But when she turned back to the window, it was gone. Paprika didn't go back to sleep.
Rage hit first, then indignance, then helplessness. There was nothing she could do to protect her kittens. She'd personally seen the wounds on cat who had fought back. The forest cats never killed them, but they left some wishing they had. She plead for help, but no one would. Many cats turned their noses, sneering that she deserved it for making such a idiotic decision. Others simply gave her a pitying look, unwilling to risk their lives for a pawful of kits. They told her to accept her fate. Some of the dogs had wanted to help, but were unable to escape their backyards. Deep down she'd known better than to bother asking.
So, she did the one thing she could think of. She prepared her kittens for the inevitable. She made up stories of strong, noble cats who fought monsters in the woods. She taught them a hunting a crouch as best as she could. They began to speak in full sentences. They played games like "Hunter" where one of them was a mouse and the others had to catch them, or "Battle" where their made up groups fought off monsters.
It took longer than she thought, about a month later. But, she wasn't surprised when one night when her housefolk had gone out they appeared in the kitchen , eyes gleaming, claws flexing. No doubt prepared for a fight. They were big, and their pelts were unnaturally glossy and sleek. Paprika eyed each one, a spotted molly, a light gray tom, and the cat she'd seen in the window. His jaw was scarred and crooked.
She sighed quietly, numbness overtaking her body. She nudged her kittens to the strange cats, ignoring the confused squeaks of protest. The foresters blinked at her in surprise, expecting her to fight back or at least run.
"These are my kits," she began quietly, "there are two mollies and a tom."
She nudged the first kit, a dark tabby molly. "This one is Sparrow, she's the eldest." The bold kit swatted at the spotted she-cat when she bent to pick her up. The wild cat withdrew, hissing slightly, before snatching her up roughly.
"Ow!" Sparrow cried, "Mama! She's hurting me!"
Paprika flinched, but nosed her second kit, "He is Fern, the second oldest." Fern, took a slight step back, glancing back warily.
"Mama?"
He didn't fight when the gray tom picked him up, gentler than the spotted one had been with Sparrow.
A lump had begun to form in her throat by the time she turned to her youngest, the runt. "This is Pebble, she's the youngest. She's a little small but-" she paused to choke back sob, "but, I think she's strong enough to make the journey."
None of the cats moved. The crooked jawed tom stared at the kitten for a long moment. Finally, he sneered, speaking for the first time, "Scrap couldn't even survive a stiff wind." He flicked his tail, and the other two cats moved towards the door.
A strange mix of relief and guilt made Paprika's legs quiver. She quickly took her littlest one back to the basket, almost afraid he'd change his mind if she took too long. Her other kittens cried for her as they were taken away from the basket, away from their home, away from her. She curled her paws around her littlest one, not daring to face the foresters again, unable to face the looks of betrayal her kittens were surely throwing her.
She heard a scoff from behind her, the spotted molly, "I told you kittypets were cowardly, they won't even defend their own kits."
"She'll just have more later." The crooked jawed tom answered breezily, "Probably won't even remember these ones."
Another voice, the gray tom, "Next time she should mate with a stronger tom. These tiny things are hardly worth the effort."
Their voices grew muffled as they left through the cat flap.
She looked to the little kitten they had left her. Pebble. Paprika's lips curled back at the name. Never would this little one be taken from her. She would not touch the land beyond the fence or fight over a pile of bones. Paprika wanted her to never have any association with the wild cats. This little kit would never know hunger, or bloodshed, or anything outside of the housefolk's protection. And she certainly wouldn't bear the name of anything from that wretched forest.
She clutched her littlest one close, her rage giving way to grief. She finally allowed her tears to fall, for sobs to shake her shoulders. How could she have been so stupid?
"Mama?" her kitten mewed, pawing at her face in concern, "Are you okay? Mama?"
"Next time" the gray tom had said.
Next time?
There wouldn't be a next time.
#dark mirror au#story#anon ask#warrior cats au#warrior cats#crookedstar#leopardstar#warriors#wc#myart
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Cornerstone (Yeah, that Arctic Monkeys song) - Fic with Damiano David.
prompt: Damiano used to date your sister, but now that she's dead you're the only thing that can keep her alive for him, making him not worried that he might forget her face.
warnings: none, just pure sadness. Oh, and tysm Evie for the lovely help on this one!!
You remembered well the first time you saw Damiano. It was on the first of many parties you would go in your life, it was the night of your 18th birthday and considering how introverted and reserved you were, your sister, who although looks a lot like you, appearance wise, your personalities were complete opposites, decided that you needed to celebrate in a dignified way. Well, you were two years apart, but her behavior at parties made her seem older than her age, she appeared more experienced, she tolerated drinks well and her charisma was perfect, just right for the party. As much as you always imagined she would be like that, given you were used to seeing her come home late at night on weekends, it was fascinating, even a little intimidating to see for yourself. Basically, Parrot’s Beak was made for her. After 45 minutes of partying, your eyes had noticed Damiano drinking with some friends, his cheekbones were prominent cute, his eyes were striking, and the drink was starting to take effect on his cheeks making them become a lovely, flushed pink - almost like his skin was begging to be kissed. You could replay that moment in your head whenever you wanted, you didn’t even have to close your eyes. Over time, you’ve forced yourself to smile at him, pull your hair out of your eyes between shy glances, trying your hardest to make yourself good-looking for him. It didn’t take long for him to walk towards you, making your nervous and hopeful smile in the process turn into disappointment. You soon realized his glances in between swigs of beer were not for you, but for your sister. He hadn’t even noticed you there, and the sensation that filled your body was painful. That night you accepted you were left out as they walked to the bathroom, and the best to do was to keep your first impressions of Damiano to yourself. It would be the best thing to do; even after the 4-year anniversary of them being together, and of you still finding Damiano stunning.
“You need to stop callin’ me,” you sighed, brushing the back of your hand over your eyes. It was dawn, if she had been there, she would have already made you get up, would have taken the phone from your hands and lay on top of you, making you laugh until you’d fall asleep together. “It’s been almost a year now; you need to stop calling me.”
“But you always make it better,” his drunk voice echoed in your ear. Strange, but you liked listening to him, he spent so many years making her happy that listening to him was like feeling her smiling widely at you after buying chocolate cake at the coffee bar around the corner that you now worked for.
“What do I make better, Damiano?” You asked, prolonging something that didn’t feel right.
“Me,” he sighed deeply, making you do the same. “I like your voice, even more after you’ve woken up, it’s so calm and crystal clear,” He kept talking until your voice broke into a sharp sob as you tried to bite your lip to contain yourself, if she was there she would’ve calmed him down with just a word; but she wasn’t, and he was like that because he didn’t have her anymore.
“I like you Dami, I truly wish you nothing but the best, but I can’t do this anymore,” you verbalized, knowing there were chances of him being oblivious to the fact that he was looking for you because you reminded him of her. “I miss her too, and it’s being too painful.”
With that being said you hung up the phone, pressing it against your chest knowing he would call again next night and then you would pick up, exchange a few words with him, feeling miserable right after for letting him do it again; but the truth was, on the next day you would feel good, not in a healthy way, but in a nostalgic way that would leave you trapped in a cheery image of your sister; whenever she had the opportunity to describe how amazing a date with Damiano was would make you bear through the day.
As you soaked your pillow, the loud music from The Rusty Room along with dancing people made Damiano wet his lips in a dirty smile, his night would be like any other since she was gone, he would get drunk enough to see her face on someone else and would be able to snuggle between the legs of his new salvation or get kicked out for being too much and have no choice but to call you. On nights when his feelings are stronger than before, he would do both. He would call you in hopes that when you answered, you would miraculously become her, then he would tell you about his day and how no one in the band seems to put up with him anymore, and then would wait until you told him it would be okay. Clearly, nothing worked like that in your mind, you were as tough as she was, which was good for him to feel in her presence, but not what he needed at the moment; not least because you had never spoken for more than 5 minutes. That way, he had no choice but to keep looking for her.
Still digesting your dry words, he caught sight of her golden hair and pale skin being bathed in the strong red light, she smiled at him, huddled up in a wicker chair, her eyes was in the same level with his as he wandered up for a closer look, and it felt like it was for the first time, so he came close and kissed her, taking all the air out of her lungs to himself; the random girl wouldn’t mind having another name tonight.
Damiano returned home the next morning in his car, swearing he could still smell her scent on his coat, transmitting it to his seatbelt while he lengthened his trip to the next coffee bar just to be able to feel her presence for longer.
“He’s all yours today!” Your manager said in mock animation.
His eyes were lazy, his lips rosier than usual trapped in a perfect pout, stubble on his face and yet he looked like an angel; but smelling of booze and sleep deprived.
“What do you want?” You asked, observing him up and down; putting on your best character to try to fool him, or yourself. “You need to stop killin’ yourself like that, Dami.” You let your eyes dip into his, and what a regret, now your whole body tingled.
“I just wanna a nice coffee, I need to be alive to work,” he raised his hands in redemption, giving you a cute half smile. His voice as melody and sweet as on the phone. “I just need to calm my mind down, buttercup.”
His whisper ran down your spine, making drops of coffee from the machine splash onto your hand instead of into the cup, your body knew it was wrong, but your mind had liked being called that.
“How’s life?! How’s things goin’, huh, after all that, y’know…” He went on while you gave him his usual hot coffee.
In response, you shook your head, looking around you, cursing the place for not being so busy so that you could have more customers.
“Fine, no more talk, buttercup.” He sounded low and careful this time. You had to take your eyes off him because you felt like you were going to cry.
No more smiles on his tired face, he straightened his clothing, handing you a crumpled currency. Avoiding his eyes, you took it in your hand, taking his change and writing it out in Letraset for him.
“Thank you,” he said, this time without repeating the pet name, since both you and him were now being watched by your manager. Even in front of others, his eyes filled with tears as he looked at your writing; so similar to hers in form, yet so cruel.
“You shouldn’t let him call you the same way he sweet called her.” The manager warned you when he saw the boy leave. Your sister was always around with Damiano, they were completely in love with each other and never hid it from anyone, it was obvious he had noticed.
“He just needs to heal.”
“So do you.”
‘No, you can’t call me the way you used to call her’ were marked on his change.
Battleship, next night.
Rum was already a necessary substance to oxygenate his blood, it was the 4th shot, he had a dizzy mind with you on it, from the tip of your nose that seemed to follow him when he was speaking, to your contradictory voice that sounds just like hers when you say that you don’t want him around. He needed you.
He glanced around the room, searching for his daily fix of sex for the night but soon changed his mind, taking his cell phone in his hands and punching in your number that he already knew by heart.
“I’m sorry, you’re by yourself?” A serene voice awakened him from his trance, the blond hair and lips drawn in a perfect heart shape similar to hers made him forget about his cell phone.
“Yes, I am.” He confirmed, his throat going dry. Every night the same thing, but he still got carried away by a vision trick; given that the reality was way too difficult to face. “All by myself and free for the night.”
She laughed at his despair, and even though the sound wasn’t similar to hers, he decided he could play pretend in his mind. The girl’s laugh fell silent, feeding his head with the image of her as he closed his eyes tight, for a second he swore not to feel his feet anymore, wondering if it might be the effect of being close to be her ghost but when he said it out loud, calling the random girl by her name, all he felt was a pair of hands pushing him back while cursing him in as many ways as possible. Had the girl said her name to him? He couldn’t tell, it wasn’t like he cared.
“I need you,” you had tears running down your chin, your voice was nothing but sobs.
His smile widened, scratching the affected spot, feeling his body becoming more relaxed as he heard your voice filling the phone call. You needed him, so you called him. Just like in every other night.
“A nightmare again?” He asked cautiously, not even needing to ask what it had been about; he already knew.
“Yes,” you looked tired, as much as he did. “I need you, Dami, I can’t stop thinking about her.”
“I’m on my way, buttercup.”
The shared room still smelled of her, he knew it was because of you spreading the rest of her perfume across the bed she slept in. The atmosphere was different without her there, you both felt it, but somehow it felt good to be there and feel a bit of her false presence.
“You’re drunk again,” you sighed as he brought his fingers to your cheekbone, pulling some tears away. “She wouldn’t like that.”
He nodded, “she really wouldn’t.” Damiano smiled, seeing a shy smile spread across your lips.
Your movements were quick as silence filled the room, your arms went around his waist, making him have no choice but to snuggle you into his grip, a relieved sigh left his lips and he felt good knowing you no longer cried. The lack of voices made everything more comfortable, it cleared his mind, making his muscles relax. And when he felt you dig your face deeper into his shirt, he let his chin rest on your head as you found comfort in the scent that had often been used to be on her clothes.
The weather was grey, sad. Similar with your mood. Staying motivated to work was not what you wanted today, or any other day.
“What are you doing outside? You weren’t supposed to be working?” Damiano said, tucking you under his umbrella, his eyebrow puckered into a cute pout.
“I can’t work, I’m very sad and sleepless.” You imitated your manager’s voice, showing pure irritation.
“Not a good day, I see,” he remained in high spirits, even seeing your angry face as your request for Uber was denied on the screen in your hands.
“Wouldn’t you go get a coffee?” You deposited your disappointment in him. His face still in a smile, he was never one to be shaken by so little; just like her, in fact so alike to her that it was quite annoying at times. She wouldn’t be giving the hate for her bad day to anyone.
“There’s no point, I only come here for you.” Your mind knew well, it was already used to his tricks, but you still couldn’t help but smile.
His words softened your body and you allowed yourself to look at him, he didn’t seem to have had a rough night, his eyes were still as intense as she had described the night she met him. “Cornerstone doesn’t make any sense without me, I agree with you.” His lips spread; you were happy to make him smile.
The comfortable silence seemed to wrap you around each other, he brushed your hair back from your eyes, getting so close he thought you would might understand. “Can I get much closer?”
You nodded, feeling the tears blurring your vision. You knew he saw in you a way not to forget her face, but letting him go would hurt more. “Look, I’m really not supposed to — but yes, you can call me anything you want.”
--
Tagging: @pingpongchamps @oro-e-diamanti @marriedwithmarktuan @user0126 @its-afucking-mess @dont-let-me-drown-in-you
#måneskin#damiano david#damiano david x reader#damiano david smut#arctic monkeys#damiano david fanfic#damiano david imagines#damiano david angst#damiano david imagine#maneskin#one shot#fanfic#fiction#writing#cornerstone#song#fanfic song
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Vogue morning routine
Y/N Y/N/L’s guide to effortless natural makeup
Summary: you are asked to do the Vogue Beauty Secrets video and your two boys decide to join the party
Word count: around 2000
Warning: none, just pure floof!
I apologize in advance if there are any spelling and/or grammar mistakes, English is not my first language (+ this is my very first fic)
HEADLINE
Henry Cavill’s new girlfriend, designer Y/N Y/L/N reveals her everyday morning routine in recent Vogue video: Y/N Y/L/N shows off her secrets to the perfect fusion of European and Asian beauty.
You stood in the spacious bathroom of the hotel room, only wearing a big, fluffy, white robe, that was actually Henry’s. But since the man was in the gym, you took the opportunity to lend it and bathe yourself in his musky smell, that calmed your nerves. Last night you started panicking, thinking you would probably look stupid for the entire world to see, luckily Henry and Kal tried to calm you down with cuddles and kisses.
This was the first ‘interview’ you would do, being such a young, successful entrepreneur really caught the attention of the media. When you first started your small online shop, you never would have thought you would end up here. Five years later, with a steady income, the job you always wished for and the man you had a crush on since the first time you laid eyes on him. Being a creative, it really made your heart soar with happiness, seeing all your products, your babies, in new homes where they would make others happy.
You were really proud of yourself. Henry was as well, and he made sure you and everybody around you knew. You were apprehensive at first, being with such a well known actor, who was also much older than you, it made you nervous of what people would say, what the media would say. You didn’t want to tarnish Henry’s image. You knew there were people with a much bigger age gap, but still, people were ruthless. So you both decided to take it slow, being careful with going out in public and social media posts.
You stand in front of the large mirror, which had a camera attached to it and open up your makeup bag. Right before you went into the bathroom, you made yourself a nice cup of tea, trying to stay calm. “Hi! I’m Y/N and today I am going to show you my everyday makeup routine,” you say with a smile, “I am not a dermatologist so please don’t take what I say too seriously.”
You grab a small white washcloth and hold it up, so it was in the frame, “First, I am going to wash my face and put on a few drops of serum,” You dampen the cloth and wipe it over your face and neck. You put a few drops in the palm of your hand and pat them into your skin. “Now I going to use my jade roller to massage the serum into my skin. It’s quite funny seeing so many people use these nowadays. In ancient China they were mostly used by the elite to keep there skin ageless. They would call jade the Stone of Heaven. It’s really helpful for the people who wake up with a puffy face like me,” you chuckle.
Somethimes you’d wake up with puffy cheeks, which led to Henry calling you his chubby bunny in the morning.
“Just a quick tip, and this is for everybody, make sure you always use SPF. I personally use SPF 30 and this one is shine control, since I tend to get an oily skin, but you can also use a regular one or a foundation with SPF in it. Believe me when I say your skin will be thankful.”
You grab the small tube of sun cream and show the amount you’ll use. You even convinced Henry to wear SPF everyday. At first he said he didn’t think it would make such a big difference, but when he realised you were going to be the one to put it on him, he was convinced about its benefits and adamant to wear it everyday. After working the thick cream into your skin, you put on some lipbalm and rummage through the pouch in front of you. When you find the product you’re looking for, you hold it up. “Now, I am going to put on a bit of concealer, this one is from Maybelline. After this, I will use a lighter shade under my eyes and on my acne scars that I have here,” you point and circle around the small cluster of scars on the sides of your cheeks.
Before blending out the concealer, you smile at the lens and put in two bright yellow hairclips, to keep your dark locks from falling into your face. “I probably should have done this at the start,” you laugh. The nerves creeping up a little. It wasn’t that you where a shy person, but knowing thousands of people will watch this, did something to you. You were always a very easygoing person, who could talk with pretty much everybody. But knowing people were going to watch you do something so intimate in a way, and would probably comment on it, scared you a little. While you would be 100% yourself, doing something as mundane as getting ready. If they didn’t like you now, then they probably won’t like you later. And that was what made you so afraid.
The bathrobe falls a bit down your shoulder, but you ignore it, since your hair fell down your shoulders in big waves. “Okay, brows. I used to block them in really dark when I was younger, but now I try to keep a light hand. I’ll use this Got 2B Glued as a brow gel afterwards. The tails of my eyebrows tend to move if I don’t use a strong enough gel. If you’re Asian you will understand the struggle.”
You quickly finish your brows, put some bronzer on your face and eyelids and take out your liquid eyeliner. “Am I the only one that acts like I’m a beauty guru whenever I do my makeup? Like, I’m just acting as if I’m used to this, right now, but to be honest, I was really nervous to do this video for Vogue,” you admit, “they will probably regret asking me,” you chuckle. You finish your eyemakeup with curling your long lashes, thanks to your mother’s genes, and add a coat of mascara.
You take in a deep breath, excited to show everyone the product you had been waiting for. “The next thing I am really proud to show you guys, because I designed the packaging. This is the new limited edition blush and highlighter palette from Dior, which they created for Lunar New Year!” You beam with pride, holding up the elegant looking palette. It had a darker toned glossy finish and the borders were the traditional Chinese looking frames, which were 3D and were surrounded by a wild variety of peonies. In the middle of the lid was your Chinese calligraphy in big golden brush stokes that said ‘year of the Ox’, the clasp was designed so it resembled an antique Chinese coin and on the side hung a jade charm.
“You can pre-order this palette now, I think they will put a link-thingy in de description. I wish you all a happy and blessed Lunar New Year, 祝农历年新年快乐牛年大吉!”
Just as you’re about to add some blush to your cheeks, the bathroom door creaks open and a curly-headed, sweaty Henry pops his head in. Fresh from the gym, and were you thankful for his new intense workout, because he was truely a sight to behold. A cheeky smile graces his handsome face when he spots you in front of the mirror, only wearing his robe, which made his grin widen.
“what are you doing in here? Are you hiding from me? Playing hide and seek is it?” he teases and rakes his large hand through the tousled curls, but just as he’s done speaking, he sees the camera behind you, and blushes. “Oh, I didn’t know you were filming, I’m sorry darling,” he smiles and gives a small wave in the direction of the camera. You led out a giggle, cheeks turning red already, if he’d keep this up, you wouldn’t need to add blush. You couldn’t focus anymore, he looked so attractive, only wearing his black gym shorts and a tight dark blue tank top. Damn that camera, otherwise you would have jumped him. Henry, thought the exact same thing. Seeing you, only wearing his robe and your hair still a bit wild from this morning’s cardio, made him hold back a moan. Those two cute, yellow clips in your hair could have fooled him, because you were anything but innocent.
Before he’s about to close the door again, he blows you a kiss. But his actions are stopped when a big bear makes his appearance. Bolting past his dad’s legs, Kal comes into the bathroom. Henry tries to catch him but misses. The black and white akita excitedly sniffs his head around the sink, trying to see what you were up to with all the stuff lying on the marble counter.
“Kal!” Henry whisper-yelled, trying to stay hidden behind the door. But you could still see his massive body crouched down behind the wood. It was rather funny, seeing the large man so panicked about getting his dog to listen. It kind of reminded you of that one video from BBC were a professor was being interviewed and his baby and nanny showed up in the background. While Henry tried to get Kal’s attention, the dog just sat next to your legs, and smiled when you pet him behind his ear. He was your good boy.
You both knew there was no other option but to keep Kal here, once he saw you do your makeup, he wanted to watch and get his ‘makeup’ done as well.
Henry also saw the look in Kal’s eyes and let out a sigh. Might as well stay with his two loves. He stood up from his position and walked to you, wrapping his sweaty but oh so save body around your figure, and placed a prolonged kiss on the exposed skin just by your shoulder. So far for taking it slow… He pressed himself thighter against your back, hiding his face in the crook of your neck and intertwined your hands, slowly rocking you two back en forth. “You look beautiful, my love,” he whispered, so only you could hear it, at least you hoped the camera wouldn’t pick that up. You let out a little giggle, like the inner schoolgirl you were whenever he was around you.
“Kal loves when Y/N does his makeup as well, don’t you boy,” Henry explains with a smile and looks down at the bear by your bare feet. Kal gives a small ruff and sweeps his tail eagerly. “Did you show them what you made,” he asked you with a wide smile, and looked straight in to the camera, “she worked really hard on that design, so I hope you all like it,” he declared proudly.
You ended up doing your makeup routine with your two boys in the background. Henry left for a few minutes to shower in the second bathroom your hotelroom had, and came back clad in a pair of light jogging trousers and a sweater. Even though you were inside, it was still a bit too chilly to walk around in short sleeves, being mid-winter and all. He just sat on the small wooden bench by the door, still in frame for everybody to enjoy and behold. His hair now damp. He was reading in a book and patiently waiting for you to get ready, occasionally looking up and laughing when you would wet your hands or Kal’s special makeup brush in the sink and pretend to do his makeup. The dog would bark excitedly and give you kisses. “Wow Kal, you look so pretty,” Henry told the big floof with the chuckle.
“Okay, this was my -somewhat- everyday makeup routine! Thank you guys for watching this chaotic mess, hope you laughed a bit, bye-bye, 再见!” How do those vlogger end their videos? Smash like and subscribe?
Behind you Henry looked up from the pages of his fantasy book and arched his brow, “Hey! No shout-out for your special guests? See you all next time!”
WOOHOO!! This is my very first fanfic, I really hope you enjoyed it. Liking, reposting and commenting would mean a lot to me! If you do repost this, please do not edit or copy my work. I worked really hard on this.
Much love, Nahmi xxx
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A Beautiful Night Indeed
So I did a thing...
I wrote a Penelope and Colin fic! I haven't written anything in so long that I seriously surprised myself. I just couldn't help it, I've become so obsessed with them. I wanted to post it here for anyone interested in reading. It's an extended scene I guess, a wish fulfillment if you will, of what I wanted to happen after their dance at the Vauxhall Ball in episode 01 "Diamond of the first water."
Pairing: Colin Bridgerton/Penelope Featherington
Summary: Colin is protective of Penelope after Cressida spills her drink on her. Colin doesn't want to let go of Penelope's hand after their dance. Colin is confused about his feelings and Anthony calls him out on it. Colin wants more than anything for Penelope to trust him
A Beautiful Night Indeed
It was a beautiful night. Penelope had arrived to the Vauxhall ball a half an hour early with her Father and sisters. They were just in time to see the lighting of all the torches surrounding the expansive gardens right as the Sun began to hang low in the ever darkening sky…
Standing near the orchestra dining area, watching the dancing begin, Penelope looked around avoiding being spotted by one of her sisters. She was surprised when she heard Colin say her pet name.
“Pen…” Colin approached Penelope. He never had trouble finding her in a crowd. He was constantly captivated by her stunning red hair. Her hair beckoned him like a glowing fire, his eyes always drawn to the beauty of the permanent sunset. She was standing alone expectantly, he surmised she was looking for someone.
“Colin…” Penelope sighed adorably which made him smile to himself. She had the cutest voice, he had always thought so.
“I did not know you would be here.” Penelope was pleasantly surprised to see him. His height towering as he walked closer, making her feel small and delicate by comparison.
“Sorry to disappoint.” Colin teased, causing her to smile. She was never able to resist this pull he had on her.
“Have you seen Miss Thompson?” He inquired. Miss Thompson had many suitors and Colin supposed he should try to get to know Penelope’s cousin a bit more, lest his interest wane.
“She is ill.” Penelope informed him, a bit dispassionately, her smile faltering. “My mamá had to stay home with her.” She continued. “Papá had to chaperone.”
Colin looked over his shoulder to see Mr. Featherington enjoying a refreshment and in an animated discussion, completely unobservant of his youngest daughter.
Colin turned back to Penelope giving her his complete attention, the inquiry into her cousin’s whereabouts fleeting. He did not like that she was vulnerable without her Father’s gaze on her.
“I’m quite enjoying the fact that he is here.” Penelope’s smile picked back up and Colin recalled that she enjoyed spending time with her father… away from her neglectful mother.
Mrs. Featherington should be there as well, Colin thought to himself. This was Penelope’s debut season. What mother, wouldn’t accompany a daughter as sweet and innocent as Penelope everywhere?
“Mamá would never allow me to wear a dress like this.” Penelope’s smile brightened the darkened garden even more. “Not yellow enough, I think.” She giggled self-deprecatingly.
Colin had taken note of how especially lovely Penelope looked that night. Although it was hard for Penelope to look bad, given her cute face and enchanting hair, her mother seemed to be trying to detract from her looks with every yellow frock she forced on her. He would acknowledge that according to Eloise having a nice face and pleasant hair should not be considered an accomplishment. But given the lack of genteel stock in Penelope’s lineage, it was indeed a glowing accomplishment in contrast to her older sisters, at least according to Colin’s preferences.
Before Colin could genuinely compliment Penelope’s dress, Cressida Cowper appeared and interrupted their conversation. Accompanied by her entourage of ninnies, they pushed between he and Penelope.
“Mr. Bridgerton...” Cressida’s voice really grated on Colin’s nerves. “I believe you owe me a dance this evening. And I only have one more space remaining on my card at present.”
“How convenient.” Penelope observed, her words so softly spoken that Colin almost… almost didn’t hear her. But her tremulous voice carried over to Colin. It was like a melody… a song only for him in contrast to Cressida’s.
Cressida thrust her dance card out to her side and simultaneously spilled her drink on the front of Penelope’s dress. “Penelope, I did not see you there!” Cressida feigned shock.
Penelope gasped in sheer mortification, turning away from them as the blast of cold liquid slid down her chest. She looked down to check her dress, thanking heaven that the drink was clear and would not stain. Penelope felt heat color her cheeks and her eyes began to water. She was so proud of the way she looked that night and to have this happen to her at Cressida’s hands and in the presence of Colin no less, she thought she would pass out from the humiliation.
Colin glared at Cressida. How dare she attempt to injure Penelope’s person with that drink and right in front of him. He thought to himself, if Cressida was not a Lady and barely one at that… His anger peaked at the mental image of what he would do. His nostrils flared at her before he turned his attention back to Penelope.
“I’m afraid I cannot offer you that dance, Miss Cowper.” Colin’s voice barely remained courteous. “I am to escort Miss Featherington, to the floor.” His decided rejection of Cressida caused Penelope to turn around, astonished.
Penelope’s blue eyes, glossy with embarrassment, met his. Colin had a fierce look on his face. Determined he was, not to allow anyone to mistreat her in his presence. He reached for Penelope's gloved hand, slipping her tiny feminine satin-clad fingers through his larger masculine ones, as he glared once again at Cressida before escorting Penelope away and onto the dance floor.
Colin spun Penelope into position just as the spirited dance started. His fingers glided across the brocade material along her upper back. Her soft tresses skimmed across the back of his hand… This was one of Colin’s favorite dances and he smiled down at her excitedly. Penelope was an amazing partner. The embarrassment caused by Cressida eased from her eyes and she matched his enthusiam for the dance. The eager smile on her face as he spun her around caused an ache to invade inside his chest. The protectiveness he felt moments ago seemed to increase ten fold and everything inside of him wanted that smile to remain on her face for the rest of her life.
When the dance ended, Colin found himself irrationally thinking of a reason to keep Penelope's hand in his. An illogical impulse, given it would be improper since he was not officially courting her. The reminder to himself, that he was not in fact courting Penelope Featherington, but had expressed an interest in her distant cousin caused him to be inexplicably confused and annoyed with himself. The annoyance he felt was upsetting to him and he clenched his jaw in vexation. Just as he was about to convince himself to let her go, the announcement began…
“Ladies and Gentleman, a most extraordinary event is about to take place.
Right this way!
Come! Come!”
Colin looked down at Penelope just as she gazed her startled blue eyes up at him. Just looking in her eyes soothed away his baffling aggravation. He smiled at her mischievously as he pulled her along side him continuing to hold her hand. Definitely not letting go of her now.
Penelope was delighted that Colin wanted to continue their time together at the ball. The way he looked at her during their dance… she knew it was just a result of his protective nature. She believed he was genuinely outraged by Cressida’s behavior toward her. But his continued attention made her heart soar, even more than usual, just from being around him. A sort of magic seemed to envelop them, almost as if Colin was finally seeing her as a woman and not like a little sister. Penelope worried that the let down from reality settling around her again would break her heart irreparably.
“Come along, Pen. We must not miss this most extraordinary event!” Colin continued to grin at her as he pulled Penelope along.
Colin spotted an open section near the edge of the crowd and stopped there. It was a bit darker there, secluded away from the torches, and he couldn’t make out everyone around them. He tugged Penelope a bit closer in front of him as more people surrounded them.
He noticed that she trembled a bit, so he leaned down near her ear. “Are you ok, Pen?”
Penelope was looking forward to the show, whatever this would be, but she had never been quite comfortable with the dark or with surprises.
Penelope felt Colin squeeze her hand and she looked up at him. His blue eyes warm with concern. “Yes, I’m ok. It is just a bit scary is all.”
Colin smiled at her then and her heart skipped a beat. “Everything will be ok. I’m right here. I would not let anything bad happen to you.” And she knew, she could feel that Colin meant it.
“Do you trust me, Pen?” He asked, holding her gaze fervently.
Looking into his eyes so close to hers was intoxicating and Penelope began to feel a little unsteady on her feet. She swayed a little as she answered him. “Y- Yes, o-of course I trust you, Colin.”
Colin noticed that she stuttered a bit, but she seemed to get her bearings.
“Good.” Penelope’s assurance that she trusted him, did something to his insides and Colin felt unbalanced.
The announcement picked up again…
“It is with great privilege I present Vauxhall’s newest spectacle of illumination. Feast your eyes above and allow all that is radiant to overwhelm you!”
Penelope squeezed Colin’s hand just as the lights illuminated all at once above them. They were surrounded by the glass bulbs! The brilliance was magnificent. The sudden amazement caused Penelope to step back into Colin. His chest cradled her head and his other hand, that wasn’t holding hers, grabbed her waist to steady her.
The MC continued,
“Wonderful Light! Thank you!”
“Its alright.” Colin murmured softly into her hair. She smelled like orange blossoms. Colin could not keep himself from breathing her in. He wondered if it was just her hair or if she smelled of the fragrant flower all over her body. The hand holding her waist moved unconsciously to the ends of her rosy hair, his fingers delicately caressed the softness of her strawberry locks. Colin’s mind was muddled, he closed his eyes in contentment, memorizing the texture of her hair. He couldn’t think straight. He had to stop himself from dropping a kiss to the top of her head, the need to be a comfort to her began to outweigh his reason.
Penelope thought she imagined Colin’s fingers in her hair. The closeness of his body to hers was heady… She closed her eyes briefly, relishing in the warmth of him behind her. She inhaled at the pleasure of her current situation. She’d never been this close to Colin. The electrifying heat of his body pressed against hers was causing her to be incoherent. She began to breathe in shallow pants, her breaths coming quickly. Unsettled by her reaction to him, she moved away from him, letting go of his hand.
Colin felt the immediate loss of the warmth radiating from Penelope’s body pressed along his front. When she dropped his hand and moved away from him, he felt the grimace on his face and heard the growl in his throat. Desperate to have Penelope near again, he grabbed her hand and turned her to face him.
“Pen…” Colin spoke her name, not knowing what else to say, but also needing to stop her retreat from him.
Penelope looked down at her hand grasped in Colin’s, realizing that her glove had slipped off. “Oh…” was all she could say. The moment felt unmistakably intimate, him holding her hand again, this time bare.
“I’m sorry.” Colin apologized when he realized he’d unintentionally removed Penelope’s satin glove. “Allow me…” He bent down and retrieved her glove from the grass, her bare hand remained cradled in his the entire time.
His expression mischievous again, as he rose to his full height. “I guess I’m to keep it as a favour now.” Colin teased Penelope. He needed to take away the self-consciousness he saw in her eyes.
“Are you going off to battle then?” Penelope teased Colin back, unable to resist his ever present charm. She could think of no other time a lady’s favour was given.
“Well, there seems to be a fight for refreshments. And as a Gentleman, I will gladly enter the fray to procure something to drink for you, Pen.” Colin folded Penelope’s glove and slipped it into his inside jacket pocket finally letting her hand go reluctantly.
Colin looked down at Penelope adoringly. He couldn’t help himself, stepping closer to her, he whispered. “Wish me luck in battle?”
Penelope knew Colin was teasing her again, but he made her breathless. “Good luck.” She smiled and then she bit her bottom lip. “Promise me that you will return it me?” She looked pointedly to his chest where her glove rested inside his pocket.
Colin could only focus on the lushness of her mouth as she bit her full bottom lip, he was beginning to feel dizzy like he was spinning… spinning out of control. “You trust me, don’t you, Penelope?”
“Of course, Colin.” Penelope didn’t recognize her own voice. The huskiness of it, she couldn’t control as Colin inched even closer to her.
Colin bent down, next to her ear and whispered. “Good girl. Stay right here for me. I’ll be back.” He leaned in close enough that he smelled her intoxicating hair once more before he pulled himself away from Penelope and then walked toward the refreshments.
As Penelope watched as Colin walked away, his tall regal form a feast for her eyes, she noticed his brother Anthony walk up to him.
Colin was taking deep breaths to regain his composure as he walked away from Penelope. He felt a hand on his arm and turned to find Anthony with a stern expression on his face. He followed Anthony’s gaze to Penelope.
“She’s so young Colin… you need to try harder to conceal your… baser interests. Stop touching her so much. Don’t forget yourself. Penelope is a proper lady.” Anthony scolded Colin.
“I was not… I did not… for you to imply…” Colin couldn’t even form a sentence in his defense as twisted as his insides felt by his brother’s insinuations.
“Imply?” Anthony continued. “I saw. Your hand on her waist, apart from dancing. Your hand in her hair. The caress of her bare hand… and this could have been in the view of half the Ton. It is a wonder her father did not come looking for her and witness these improprieties or I would be making arrangements for you to court Penelope Featherington properly!" Anthony’s eyebrows raised in admonishment. “… and not expressing interest in her distant cousin.” The distorted expression on Anthony’s face spoke to how he felt about Colin’s fleeting interest in Miss Thompson.
“It will be a miracle if this is not in Whistledown tomorrow and I am not forced to have to make an offer on your behalf myself.” Anthony continued to reprimand Colin.
“Anthony, I would never do anything to scandalize Penelope!” Colin declared passionately. He could not even conceive of hurting her that way. He found that the thought of Anthony having to make an offer for Penelope’s hand on his behalf did not scare him and that lack of apprehension caused him uncertainty.
“I know that you would not, Colin. And I am not suggesting that you are. I am saying that your feelings... unacknowledged... for Penelope are maybe getting in the way of your… sensibilities where she is concerned.” Anthony pointed out.
“My feelings… for Penelope?” Colin was so confused. Penelope was his friend. He had not meant to be improper with her in any way. But he had begun to acknowledge in his mind and body that Penelope was becoming a woman… in every way. His reactions to her may very well be putting her in danger from him.
“Yes, Colin. I have eyes. I see you clear as day. You may not be ready to admit to or are even aware of how you feel about her. You do have feelings for her, not just emotionally, but now physically as well and you need to think about what you really want long term. Penelope has… developed a lush womanly form. Her curves are tempting to you, I see. Miss Thompson may be more mature and more able to handle your… physical interests right now, where as you would have to wait a while for Penelope to be ready for that.”
“Stop! Stop right now, Anthony. Speaking about Penelope in this way is improper and I will not engage with you any further on this.” Colin found his fists were balled up and his anger, at his brother was a tangible thing in his mouth… a vileness that he could taste. Anthony’s criticism of how he had handled Penelope and even more his comments on how her body had developed the curves of a woman, the kind of woman that Colin realized he was irresistibly drawn to, would be his undoing.
“See, you did not even mention Miss Thompson. Your irascible temper with regard to any perceived slight of Penelope…” Anthony spoke to Colin’s unexpressed feelings for Penelope, again. “All of that emotion… that is about Penelope Featherington.”
Colin clenched his jaw tightly and rolled his eyes at the truth of his brother’s perceptions. He balled his fists against his side as well.
“I am not telling you what to do, so do not look at me like that. I am merely pointing out that if you keep carrying on like this over Penelope and you keep finding yourself behaving in the manner in which you have tonight, you will not be in a position to make a decision. It will have been made for you. Does she not deserve for you to truly choose her? And loathe that I am of a match between you and Miss Thompson, I do not want you to have to contend with hurting her either.”
Colin took a deep breath before addressing his brother again. “Penelope is dear to me… so dear that I - I treasure her and our friendship. I would never hurt her intentionally, brother. That is all I’m willing to say on the matter. I do not wish to discuss Penelope with you any further here like she is the topic of some common gossip. I shall escort her back to her father, after the fireworks are over. Colin declared and then walked off, feeling immensely frustrated.
“See that you do, Colin.” Anthony called after him as Colin disappeared.
Colin turned from the refreshment table and spotted Penelope immediately again. His eyes seeking her siren hair. She had remained just as he had asked her to. A good girl for him she was indeed.
When Colin finally returned to her with refreshments, Penelope’s bright expectant blue eyes found his troubled ones.
“Is everything ok, Colin?” Penelope asked softly. “I saw you speaking with your brother…”
Colin smiled at her slightly as she drank her lemonade. He could not help it. She was so sweet, the most kind-hearted person he had ever known aside from his mother. Her concern mollified him. His anxiousness over his conversation with Anthony slipped away easily in her presence.
“Penelope, your dress is lovely tonight. I wanted to tell you that before Cressida showed up.” Colin could not help it, even after being cautioned by Anthony of being improper with her, he inched closer to her and took her bare hand in his again.
“Thank you, Colin.” Penelope sighed. The warmth of his hand surrounding hers made her breathless again. It felt almost as if Colin did not realize what he was doing.
“May I ask, how it came to be this rather fetching shade of pink and not yellow?” Colin teased her again. His eyes sparkling at her. They now looked the exact opposite of when he arrived with their drinks.
“Well, I was allowed to choose the color for myself, rather than mamá.” Penelope admitted. Her cheeks brightened to a beautiful shade of pink.
“You did well, Pen. It looks exquisite against your sun-fire hair and makes your porcelain skin look like the finest silk…” Colin looked down at her feeling inebriated, his voice betraying his ardor. His stomach flipped when he noticed her licking her pink lips before she spoke his name on a melodic sigh, again.
“Colin…” Penelope couldn’t believe he had actually described her that way… passionately… his voice filled with longing.
Colin raised Penelope’s hand to his lips, just as the music started for the next dance. He kissed the back of her fingers of her bare hand and Penelope was startled at the softness of his lips on her. She did not know what to say… She could not form words. All the breath had left her.
“One more dance, Pen? Before the night is over.” Colin requested. His eyes never leaving hers and her hand securely grasped in his. He didn’t have an excuse for his continued behavior with her and he found he didn’t care to continue to contemplate.
“I’ve never danced this one… in public.” Penelope admitted. She was so unnerved by Colin’s continued attention she would have agreed to anything at that point.
Colin smiled down at her, playfully. “Do you trust me, Pen?”
“Of course, Colin.” She assured him again on a sigh. “But this one is… what if I miss a step?” She was doubting herself and her ability to actually move after Colin’s kiss on her fingers.
“Penelope Featherington, you are an amazing dancer. You will be fine. He pulled her closer to the dance floor, but waited for her acquiescence. Colin looked her over as if he couldn’t bear for her to refuse him. "Please do me the honor?”
“Yes, Colin.” She smiled brightly at him. Her smile more luminescent than the globes of artificial light, her eyes sparkled more than the fireworks display. She even rivaled the stars that night as he spun her around and around on the dance floor.
It was a beautiful night indeed.
#Colin Bridgerton#Penelope Featherington#Bridgerton TV Show#romancing mister bridgerton#colin x penelope#Colin Bridgerton X Penelope Featherington#bridgerton fanfiction#bridgerton fandom#bridgerton netflix#polin#polin fanfiction#polin fic#polinweek#Colin and Penelope fanfiction#Colin x Penelope Fanfiction#Fanfiction#fanfic#Polin fanfic#Colin Bridgerton and Penelope Featherington fanfiction#This was for polin week but I didn't get to post it#polinweek2021#bridgerton fic
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Bad Influence
summary: You love Bad more than anything else; well, maybe not as much as The Egg, but he’s up there.
Unbeknownst to you, he hides his true nature with the kindest human eyes you’d ever seen.
word count: 2.8k
A/N: this was once a drabble 👍 👍 (no beta we die like wilbur)
warnings: unprotected sex, somewhat exhibitionism (if you count the egg as a voyeur), overstimulation, breeding kink if you squint, too many pet names.
anatomy: gender neutral
“Bit higher," You raise your hands along with your words, guiding the two men holding the decorative banner. “Perfect.“
“Where do these chairs go?” Turning your head at the new voice, you frown at the state of the furniture.
“What are these?”
“Dinner chairs.”
“They sure don’t like the ones I ordered.”
“What? They’re exactly as you requested, black dining chairs with red cushioning.”
“Red?!” You scoff, “I ordered black iron with crimson cushions! This is cherry! What are we? A picnic?!” You roll your eyes.
“C’mon, no one will notice the difference, just take these we have a lot of work to do.”
Your neck snaps at the sound, raised eyebrows as you hum, expecting him to say something else, but alas, he doubled down.
"I said: Just take em', we have five other deliveries today."
"What?!" There's this little pang of annoyance that sets on your nape, leaving your muscles sore at the thought of having to deal with lazy workers. "I have paid upfront."
He rolls his eyes.
"You insolent little thing..." Gritting your teeth, you look around before stepping forward, "Take these back or you and your bosses will hear from me. I will not let this pass. How dare you?!"
"Man... Why do you have to complicate, it's already paid for, just fuckin' take it."
"Language...!"
You hear a chime from behind and your shoulders relax, turning around there's this heat that creeps up your body when your eyes meet his.
"What's wrong, my little muffin?" His hands wrap around your waist, pulling you into his chest and letting his warmth envelop your body. He never failed to surprise you with how warm he was; constantly.
"Oh, sugar bear," You whine, tangling your fingers into his. "This is the end of the world! I asked for black iron with crimson cushioning and look at this disaster!"
He nods, a bit confused, trying to differentiate between the shades, but feeling your upsetness. "Cupcake, why don't you go manage the catering samples while I sort this out? I'm sure you will love the red velvet cake, I sure did!"
A wide smile breaks out on your lips, you give him a kiss on the cheek before running off to the kitchen, nothing but sweet red velvet cake and cherry pies on your mind. Welcomed by the scent of whipped cream and lemonade you're carried by your stomach to the caterer holding the delicacies.
Your tasting is interrupted by the loud banging of metal outside and you consider scolding your lazy workers, but give your attention to the cake samples instead.
You're sampling the chocolate red velvet with cherry frosting when Bad bursts through the doors, wiping his face with the crimson handkerchief you'd gifted him last anniversary. A sweet smile fills your face, "Honeypie, try this one!"
When his eyes meet yours, your heart fills with a sugary coating that seeps through your veins and directly into your brain, "I've had my filling, which one is your favourite?"
Humming, you let your body rest against his, "Mhm... Chocolate is the best, by far... But lemon is so good!"
"You've got a little bit of whipped cream..." His whispers are hot against your lips before he captures them, tongue flicking across the corners and to your cheek.
The heat in your body is noticeable.
"Thanks..."
"Mhm... This one is the best."
You giggle, slapping his chest, "You're so corny–"
"Only for you, my little blueberry muffin."
When the workers leave, the hall is a dazzling ruby tone all over, the vines seem to almost glow in pride, cascading from the ceiling like a blood waterfall. You wade through the floor they carefully polished, carpet over the dining room muffling your steps.
"Oh, it's perfect, honey bun!"
Bad gleams in joy, rushing to your side, admiring you almost as much as he adores the vines. "I was worried they wouldn't make it in time, but it's perfect."
"What about the mechanisms?"
"Ah, yes, Ant did a great job, come, look..." He holds your hand, pulling you through the hallway leading to the the egg. "We'll have them step right here," pointing to a large tile on the ground, he pulls a lever, which quickly raises it about two feet above your head. "And then it's just, wack!" His hands swing around in an attack motion and you smile.
Your heart palpitates at the thoughts of watching the sacrifice, having the best seat. From the raised position, the blood would splatter all over the watchers, a cloud of beautiful crimson falling at their heads.
"Oh...my almond cookie, this is beautiful! The Egg will be so proud!"
Bad chuckles at your praise, letting himself blush. He pulls the lever to lower back the platform as to leave everything in place.
You take a step forward, the heels of your shoes announce your movement. Standing at the centre, you face the egg, an unnatural warmth fills your chest. You pull at your blouse to appease your brain, though you know it wouldn't help. When your eyes meet Bad's, you can see his breath hitch, he makes it out as a cough.
"Join me, sugar bear!" You reach out your arms, eyes reflecting the red of everything around you.
Bad doesn't hesitate to follow your orders, pulling the lever and running across to catch the platform as it rises above the ground. You catch him in your arms, hands gliding across his chest and nape, he shivers under your touch.
"Do you want to give The Egg a show, muffin?'
Your pulse is so fast you believe anyone would be able to hear it, human or not. "Yes..." You nod, voice too breathless for the lack of action. The smile that catches his lips is almost demonic, and your chest craves him. His hands tease at your chest and you melt into his touch, "Please..."
"If you ask so nicely..." His whispers fall deaf in your ears but cut deep into your skin, burrowing in goosebumps along your body. "...Then I can't refuse."
When your lips meet his, it's sweet.
Sweeter than anything else you could ever wish for and you want to get lost in his kisses.
He holds you gently, but below the delicate fingers, there's this firmness that makes your heart stop. You know no one else could ever pry you off his arms and you're not opposed to the idea of being with him, on him 24/7.
Tongue exploring your mouth, you moan, hands occupied with fistfuls of his white dress shirt. You tug at the golden buttons, wanting nothing but to feel his chest on yours, let his body heat consume you and lull you into comfort.
"Do you trust me, muffin?"
You nod, your eyes glazed in lust can barely focus on his at this point. Bad smiles, placing a kiss on your forehead, he inhales your taste, your scent, your everything.
And then, he pushes you off the platform.
You feel the way your heart immediately jumps at the sight of danger, there's this cold that pools in your stomach and runs through your body, lowering your body temperature.
And before you know, you... fall?
But you don't meet the ground.
When you open your eyes, you're met with the under view of Bad's prideful grin. The vines around your arms feel hot, too hot. But they lift you up until you're in his reach again.
"Hi..." You breathe out, your heart still too unsettled to spot pounding in your chest.
You thought you'd die, or at least, get badly injured. Not that you didn't trust him, but maybe he made some errors in his calculations.
But then, again, if he wished for you to fall without the vines this time, you probably would.
And Bad pulls you in his arms, nose brushing against yours and you wonder how would ever doubt your little muffin?
"Did I scare you too much?" He caresses your cheeks, brushing your hair away from your face with so much adoration in his eyes you feel like a deity.
"No... just a little jumpscare."
He chuckles, kissing your nose softly, "Good."
You smile, wrapping your arms around his neck, letting his body flush against yours and fit you so perfectly. But you know you wish for a little bit more; after so much adrenaline, you feel some little... cravings.
And as if he read your mind, his hands wander your body, reaching for your waist with a little bit more force than usual. His fingers have no difficulty taking care of your belt or pants, he picked them out, anyway.
You let yourself loose in his kisses, your own fingers lost in his hair, pulling around the corners you know he likes a bit too much just so you get to hear his sugary moans. You devour each and every noise that escapes his throat.
Before you know, he’s got you in just your underwear. His lips leave yours for a second to take your hand and spin you around.
You don’t let go of the glisten in his eyes as he looks you up and down, tongue grazing over his lips hungrily. He could eat you up and it’d never be enough. No time with you would ever be enough.
Bad spins you just enough so now you’re facing the egg once again, back pressed tightly to his chest. His breathing bounces off your neck, making you swallow dry, hands nervous down your sides, wanting to touch him and feel him up—
“Look at how pretty you are, my little peanut,” His tongue glides along your cheek to reach your earlobe. “The Egg is so pleased with how beautiful you are... Let’s show your even prettier faces, should we?”
You nod, melting into his arms as his hands graze along your body; from your chest to your waist to your hips. His long fingers play with the band of your underwear, torturing you just so he can have the little whines that escape your throat unconsciously. When you reach behind your shoulder to pull and tangle his hair he chuckles along your skin.
His fingers are on you, skilfully reaching for the most sensitives places of your body. And you arch into his touch, leaving your neck fully exposed for him to nibble and suckle.
Your skin, otherwise perfect, is blemished with the traces of him.
Your lips crash against his, this time, more passionate than ever, all while his fingers don't lose their pace.
You're near your climax, your stomach churning around his fingers but it's worthless coming if it's not on him.
"Bad... Pudding, I need you..." It's a needy half-moan.
"Tell me the magic word, bombon..." His lips graze along your shoulder and you know, you feel it in your back how much he needs you, too. His face is completely flushed, the heat spread across his cheeks only rival your own heat, throbbing and needy.
"Please, baby, please... Give me–.... Please, I need you. Fuck me–"
The lustful smirk that takes over is by far not of his nature but you were his little bad influence.
"Mhmm..." Bad sings along your skin, one hand placed over your stomach and another on your shoulder blades.
He bends you over, the vines quickly tightening their grip over your arms; letting you hang as if you were laying down. While busy with his buckle and pants, he let his eyes fuck you over and over, the way your back looks to him, the faint red glow that touches your skin; You turn your head around and there's this lust, this yearning that grows on your belly.
Because Bad's otherwise kind, honey-brown eyes have now turned a devilish crimson.
His hands are rough when they pull off his pants, soon, coming around his cock, rock-solid and bright red. You wrongly assumed it might have been the redness of the room bouncing off his pale skin. There's a part of your brain that believes he's even bigger than you remembered though you chuck it to the amount of time it has been since your last.
You watch the inhuman amount of precum that drips from his glande and over his fingers, your mouth watering, tongue unconsciously running over your lips. Your reaction makes him chuckle.
Positioning himself at your entrance, his other hand leaves marks across your hips, holding you more firmly than he'd ever had. Not that you were complaining.
The tip goes in effortlessly, leaving behind this stretch that fills every particle of your being and clouds your thoughts with the ache of his cock. You hear him hiss, hands curling around your skin, leaving fingerprints all over. You're sure you will be admiring them tomorrow.
"So tight–" He hisses once again, "So, so tight– Just for me..."
Your eyes are rolling around in their sockets when he finally bottoms out, seemingly infinite in your canal. His fingers drag along your spine, ever so kindly letting you adjust before moving, even if his instincts are begging him otherwise.
When the expansion settles, you're unknowingly rolling your hips toward his, the grip of the vines making it harder to take control. But he lets ouch a soft chuckle, an adoring look sweeps his eyes for a second, so proud of your boldness. You were always a go-getter.
He is painfully slow, taking in every second of it, hitting your walls with a determination that makes you moan out incoherent strings of what you believed were words.
The sounds that erupt from his throat are feral and inhuman by nature, settling in every inch of your bones and activating your flight or flee instincts. You wondered if the third instinct was fuck.
Your chest dips down, the vines now holding your arms above your head while Bad's grip on your hips don't falter, instead, the new angle allowing him to speed up his thrusts; not losing any of the strength. Your brain is filled only by him and how amazing he feels in you.
He moans your name along with praises of how well you're taking him and you wonder just how in the world could he make such a sinful sequence of words sound so heavenly. Alas, you don't give much thought, your brain once again being quickly clouded with his cock and only his cock.
Bad pulls your waist, letting your back meet his chest. This position only heightens every touch of his, you’re so close, so warm, so good...
"The Egg isn't liking how quiet you are, sugar plum..."
You smile, stuck between watching the hypnotic crimson and the eyes of your adoring lover that swallows your moans.
His name leaves your lips like a prayer,
You will show The Egg how good Bad is to you.
"Bad, honey– Uh– I'm–"
"I know, muffin," His whispers are a caress along your ears, lulling you into your release.
You scream his name, the moans bouncing off the spongy walls of the cave and returning to your ears, you feel the way his grip tightens around your hips, the way you're milking him doesn't help how hard he's trying to hold back, prolong his time with you as much as he can.
"You're so good for me, just one more, babycakes..."
Every inch of your skin feels hot to the touch, even more than before. It's like you're on fire and freezing cold at the same time, each part that touches his body is a million times more sensitive. You feel each and every millimetre of his moves, the pleasure echoing around your body in waves.
"I don't know if I can." You shake your head, barely being able to think at this point, overwhelmed by the pleasure.
"Shh... You can, you're so good for me... So tight... You take me so well."
"Fill me up, pumpkin... Please, fill me up to the brim, let me feel you–", you moan, "–Fill me up so much I'm dripppin'!"
Oh, your Bad was too good for you.
His words are what tip you over the edge, getting him to catch his own climax. His hands don't leave your body, his lips coming to kiss all over your neck and jaw.
You melt into his touch, the vines releasing your arms and legs so you can collapse into him. He catches your body, coming to a sit and letting you sprawl over his chest, your hands reaching out to caress his hair.
"My little naughty cookie, if you spill one drop I'll have to fill you all over again..."
You giggle into his kisses, "Oh, no!" you exclaim sarcastically, giggling in between your words. He laughs, kissing your cheeks and forehead and everywhere he can get his lips on. Because you deserve so much, heavens, you're just perfect and you take him so well and you were made for him–
You feel loved.
You watch the glow of the vines brighten for a second and you both hum knowingly.
The Egg has been fed.
After all, there is a reason why orgasms were called "The little death."
#c: badboyhalo#mcyt smut#k: breeding#k: exhibitionism#k: overstimulation#the egg is packing#canonically besties its packing
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