#though i will admit pathetic men are attractive
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Lucifer + Alastor - [ NSFW 3 ]
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A/N: Had this song on repeat since its release and it reminded me of these two so much…
WARNINGS: [ NSFW ] + [ MDNI ] + [ FEM READER ] + [ SLIGHT DUB CON ]
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Sharing is caring, but when it comes to being between the King of Hell himself and his newly established opponent - the all too cocky Radio Demon- you don’t have much say in who gets fair claim of your existence.
Sharing is caring, but only in the ways that matter to the men wrapped around your little finger. Lucifer needs your physical touch; he can’t go one moment without it, and god help you if you’re around other flirtatious sinners -he’ll be all over you for no reason at all. Hand on your hip, lower back, even on your ass if he’s feeling possessive. His height doesn’t matter, not when he can back hug you just fine, plant kisses on your head or temple, and sit you down on his lap without a second thought. Lucifer is a sucker for praising you, every word out of his mouth is sweeter than honey, and the knowing smile on his lips when you get all soft and shy from his gentle admiration swells his already massive sense of pride.
“You’re a sweet little sinner, aren’t you, baby doll?”
“I’m so proud of you, my love.”
“Oh, aren’t you just the cutest thing!”
“I’ll do anything you ask of me, sweetheart..”
“Atta girl…keep going…just like that…”
The King of Hell never runs out of patience for you, spending his free time in your presence without a care for his rival's foreboding aura. Though at times they blatantly argue, the drop of your sweet smile into a solemn frown has them both rushing out an apology. However, Lucifer is quicker than Alastor to admit his faults. He makes up for mistakes with sincere gestures, visiting you in the dead of night with the promise of pleasure radiating off him in tangible waves. By the following day, you can’t even begin remembering what you were angry about.
Sharing is caring, but Alastor has a hard time with both concepts. He’s not one for physical affection, preferring acts of service and gift-giving as alternatives. You don’t seem to mind, always at his side when he calls, a pretty little thing on his arm while he struts about hell running conspicuous errands, and a genuinely engaging sinner he doesn’t mind having deep conversations with. You contrast him in all the right ways: expressive but gentle, lethal but only when provoked. Unlike most demons, you hold value to Alastor, drawing out a softer, more honest version of the stag that most will never see. In private, you’re allowed to babble off his ear while he works, cuddle up in his lap when he’s feeling ‘vulnerable,’ and sometimes you’re lucky enough to get a few somewhat kind words from the overlord amid lingering kisses.
“What a pretty little thing you are,”
“I’m tempted to keep you all to myself, ma chere… Would you like that, hm?”
“I know you can’t help being a greedy girl, darling, but I’ll always be better than that pompous excuse for a king.”
“You love to provoke me, don’t you, little one? Prancing around the hotel like you do, smiling at every little thing, and showing off for attention..”
“It’s rather pathetic, but lovely things can’t control what they attract..”
He’s possessive, outright toxic in some instances, but you’re quick to manipulate the stag into an agreeable state with the threat of seeking out Lucifer’s company over his. This tactic occasionally works, but sometimes it enrages Alastor to bloodlust. His semi-polite exterior falters, causing the overlord to be on edge with everyone -especially Lucifer- and the king won’t let a chance to irritate him further slip by.
“Something bothering you, Rudolph?”
Lucifer snickers as Alastor enters the parlor through its shadows, automatically glaring at the sight of you straddling the blonde fallen angel with his hat lazily set on your head, and you giggle at his obvious disdain for the scene. “Oh, don’t look so upset, Al. I just wanted to play with Luci for a bit.. “ you flash him a cheeky grin, purposely shifting on the devil's lap to feel his growing erection and show more skin hidden underneath your fluffy oversized jumper. Lucifer chuckled, ducking his head to give you a quick kiss as the crackle of static resonated around the room, but you were far from scared of Alastor’s fury in the presence of his rival.
Sharing is caring, but later that night, when you snuggled under your bedsheets with Lucifer, lying on his bare chest, only wearing his dress shirt, soundly asleep, and listening to his undead heartbeat, you’re jolted awake by the distinctive coolness of shadows lurking over your skin.
“What made you think I wouldn’t put you in your place, my dear? That I wouldn’t remind you he’s not the only one who can lay claim to your very existence?..”
Alastor’s voice echoes through your head, coaxing you awake as his specters entangle around you. They tug, pull, squeeze, and ravish your small frame with his every word. Your cunt starts to pulse with need, leaking arousal in steady drops as a shadowy tentacle prods your entrance before sheathing itself in your warm walls with one sharp thrust.
“Ahm!” You yelp, eyes shooting open as a satisfied whine leaps from your lips; quiet moans soon follow as the bulk of shadows touches your womb with tender strokes. Two more snake up the borrowed dress shirt, swirling under the white silk with precise menstruations, encircling your fragile body ruthlessly until you’re forced to sit up in hopes of gaining more fleeting touches. “Alastor, you’re being mean…” you groan into the darkness, hips rutting down in timid circles, a reflexive action you try to maintain to avoid waking the man lying under you. Alastor’s low laughter shifts from your mind to the confines of the room, signaling his physical appearance in the space, and you’re tempted to search for him but aren’t given a chance to as the scrape of his sharp claws manifests along your sides. He’s close, so close you can feel him leering behind you, breathing in your ear as if he needed your scent to survive.
You lean backward, humming at the familiar firmness of his chest meeting your back,” Just wanted you to be a little nicer, that’s all…” Your explanation for earlier does nothing to quell Alastor’s jealousy; his hands hovering over your sides clamp down harshly, and his claws shred through Lucifer’s shirt to prick your skin. Your heart thuds wildly as a scream threatens to fall from your chest from the pain he causes, but your cunt clenches with excitement from his aggressive treatment. “Reasoning won’t help you now, darling. It seems you only understand one thing..” he purrs into your ear, red eyes glowing as they trace your flushed form, “A-and what’s that?..” you mumble fearfully, feeling a coil build in your core, but a pang of shame in your chest overrides it as Lucifer begins to stir below you. He’ll awake any second, and though you weren’t afraid of him seeing you in a whorish state, very used to being intimate with him, the unpredictable reaction he’d have to Alastor taking advantage of you right in front of his eyes was still nerve-wracking.
Sharing is caring, and Alastor’s response to your feverish question makes more sense than you care to admit. “Attention, my dear. You’re shamelessly addicted to it,” he drawls, smile widening when you whine helplessly, back arching as his shadows wrap around your breasts before swiping over your pert nipples while your cunt no longer resists forceful strokes of his shadows. Your vision blurs as the sensations blend, erasing mannerable actions from your thoughts the closer to cumming you got, and the riveting shivers vibrating your body were evidence enough. The subtle tremble of your thighs mixed with the combined noise of your soft moans and Alastor’s hushed taunting drew the King of Hell awake with a gentle start. Lucifer ruts his hips upwards on instinct before groaning tiredly, mildly aware of the familiar stickiness your arousal causes on his pale skin but unsure as to why it’s there. “Baby, what’s the matter-“He’s at a loss for words for a long moment, almost panting at the sight above him, confused at first but gradually intrigued as sleep waned from his consciousness. Alastor smirks, lips against your neck as he stares down at the fallen angel, daring him to instigate a fight. “Ah, looks like you awoke your preferred lover, ma chere. How rude…” the deer demon taunts you, clearly unbothered by your disagreements and conflicted writhing. “N-no, that’s not ah- ah- mmm fuck Al, please d-don’t!” A bright blush coats your cheeks, tears brimming your waterline as the demon nips at your bare shoulder before lapping up the blood that trickles from the wound. His gaze never leaves Lucifer’s as his tongue collects the red liquid, humming triumphantly as a prominent red color floods the ladders’ cheeks and eyes. “How fucking dare you..” the blonde hisses, voice thick with an indecipherable emotion, and you whine anxiously as embarrassment rushes your veins. It wasn’t your fault Alastor was taking his anger out on you this way, disregarding his aversion for touch in the hopes of getting back at you both, but it’d be a lie if you said you weren’t enjoying the intense situation brewing.
Sharing is caring, and you're afraid neither entity will consider doing so as a heavy beat of silence engulfs the room. The only sound is your rushed breaths, growing heavier with every thrust and twist of Alastor’s shadows in and around your body. You try to break free from the overlord, gazing down at Lucifer pleadingly for a better chance at forgiveness. Unexpectedly, his displeased expression morphs dramatically seeing the desperation in your eyes. He’d never been the type for sadism, let alone encouraging it, but your need for his help stirred a primal desire in his chest that he’d only felt sparks of recently. It was no help to him that Alastor, a demon with no remorse or pity for your plight, was the one indicting pleasure on you. He’d seen the stag agitated, irritated, and maybe even flustered but never lustful. It was new and undeniably attractive. Why waste an opportunity to use it against him?
Lucifer took a slow breath, stamping out his rage in seconds as his eyes shifted from your lidded ones to Alastor’s, “How dare you have fun without me, hm?… that’s a little unfair,” he pouts, stifling a groan as his cock twitches to life. The radio demon scoffs, forgetting his grudge against Lucifer for the mutual benefit of desire, “If you wished for fairness, you shouldn’t have fallen from heaven …” he taunts back.
Sharing is caring, but the instant sting of Alastor’s insult doesn’t anger Lucifer like usual. It eggs on the blonde, prompting him to reach for you, and you welcome the gentle coolness of his fingers trailing up front. Unlike Alastor, his claws do you no harm, never breaking skin even as he cups your jaw firmly. “C’mere, little one. M’ not going to hurt you…” he coos quietly, eyes glowing as brightly as Alastor’s as you leer into his touch like a wounded lamb. “Yes sir…” you whisper compliantly, surprised that Alastor relents his hold just enough to let you follow Lucifer’s lead. He’s relatively calm watching you, admiring how your hair falls like a curtain over your flushed face, skin glistening with a thin sheen of sweat, and the dress shirt slipping off your shoulders but sticking to your skin at every curve you had. There were reasons he wanted you to himself but dealt with sharing you with another, and this sight was one of them. You could be so good to them both, on all fours, cunt creaming from his actions and Lucifer’s words, and your loyalty to them both on a whole show no matter the implications.
Sharing is caring, and to some degree, you believe it’s a possibility for your relationship with a prideful fallen angel and an egotistical demon. Lucifer lay beneath your trembling form, muttering encouraging praises against your lips when he wasn’t connecting them with his own in heated kisses.
“Mhm, good girl…go on, come for him like you do for me.”
“Feels good, doesn’t it, baby doll..”
“Fuck, you like that hm? Want more? Ask him nicely, sweetheart…”
“Cum for us, my love…”
“You’re doing so well….taking us so well. There you go, baby, all of it just like that…”
Alastor loses track of himself within moments of watching you come undone in his shadows for the first time, hungry to feel the warmth of your cunt for himself as puddles of your cum form on Lucifer’s crotch. You don’t fight him when he replaces his specter's task of fucking you, welcoming the length of his cock with a grateful smile and melodic moan of his name. “Alastor!… nghh yess, please r-right there!..” you yelp into Lucifer’s neck, letting him cradle your head as he talks you through the rise of your next high, “You sound so precious like this, baby. Give em’ what he wants.” His tone is strained, leaning towards a moan as he watches your expressions switch between pleasure and pure wonder. Alastor is fixated on the both of you, ears twitching at the top of his head with every satiated moan you let out and sinful word Lucifer says. His hands find purchase on your hips, gripping them harshly as he snaps his roughly, plowing his cock into your cunt with so much pent aggression your legs refuse to stop shaking. “Oh, fuck…” he groans in the air, tearing his gaze away from your arched back and leaking entrance to try and slow the impending peak of his high. Self-control was something Alastor prided himself in, but it was spiraling from his grasp the longer he fucked you.
Was this what the King of Hell had been enjoying with you?
Milking you of every drop of lust in your body?
Filling you with his overrated seed in the hopes of one-upping him?
If so, Alastor could never blame him. You felt divine, after all, and had no complaints about being used for pleasure.
Sharing is caring, but you forget all about it when Alastor yanks you away from Lucifer, a hand tangled in your head so tight you’re sure he might rip into your scalp if he holds you any tighter. Luckily, the overlord refrains from doing so, opting to groan into your ear as he buries his length to the hilt in your fluttering cunt, spilling ropes of warm cum into your abused womb with no remorse. “Don’t waste a single drop, ma chere. See it as a gift for being so well-behaved,” the radio overlay in his voice is gone, giving way to an accent you couldn’t resist mewling at. Lucifer chuckled, eyes fixed on where Alastor and you were connected, smirking at the mess you’d both made on top of him. “Need a taste of that…” he mumbles more to himself, tone hungry, demanding. You’ve yet to catch your breath before Alastor lets out a short laugh, flinging you forward into Lucifer’s chest without much care as to how weak you still are, “Greedy bastard,” he snickers, slowly pulling out of you with a satisfied grin at your attempt to keep him in. “Now, now, dear. I’ll have another turn with you soon. No need to be selfish..”
Sharing is caring, and oh, how wonderful it is when you’re sat in Alastor’s lap, facing away from him, one leg bent over his while the other rests on Lucifer’s shoulder. The King of Hell kneels before you both, inhaling the scent of your cunt, and smiling at the steady stream of cum drizzling past your folds. He’d done this many times before, a being addicted to the taste of women, of you specifically, but you still shied away from his vulgar eagerness. Your coy reactions only worsened when the notion of Alastor’s cum mixed with your own eventually settling on Lucifer’s tongue came to mind. They hated each other after all, and despite getting along most of the time in your presence, you never imagined this to happen, but neither backed down from the ordeal.
“W-wait Luci, you don’t h-have-“ you start to protest quietly, squirming in Alastor’s hold to avoid Lucifer, but your refusals don’t hold any weight to them.
“Mm, but I want to, love…I can’t help it,” the blonde whined as if he’d die without getting the task done, hands cupping your inner thighs tenderly as he flicked his tongue over your slit and swollen clit. You jolted in Alastor’s grip, biting back a whimper as he mumbled into the crook of your shoulder, “It’s impolite to refuse royalty, so let him have his fill …”
Sharing is caring, and you’re sure Lucifer could survive off eating your pussy alone just fine for the rest of his immortal life. He makes a show of it, diving his tongue in and out of your stretched entrance, moving to suck on your clit every so often before putting both actions into tedious repetition. You couldn’t remain coherent as he explored your insides with expert focus, letting his tongue linger in the spongiest and sweetest spots in your cunt just to draw back and generously spit on your clit. He’d learned your body, when to hit nerves, or when to overwhelm them. As of now, every sense you had was heightened, intensifying when Alastor’s eyes studied your facial expressions, your smile growing an inch more expansive when you rushed out a warning to Lucifer.
“Gonna cum m’ gonna cum…!”
The devil perks up, delving two fingers into you, red irises dilating completely as they hit a tender spot in your cunt immediately, curling against it at a languid pace. He met your gaze with a proud smile on his face, tongue lapping at your clit leisurely, begging you to come undone without hesitation. Alastor curses under his breath, agitated by the fact that your moans are turning him on again, and you feel his cock twitch under your weight.
Sharing is caring, and the euphoric bliss of releasing in Lucifer’s mouth felt divine, bringing small tears to your eyes as he buried his face in your mound, moaning at the taste of you drenching his tongue. Alastor grunts as your hips rock to meet Lucifer's pace, hands creeping up to cup your breasts, kneading the plush flesh mindlessly to avoid bucking his hips against your backside for better friction. He couldn't give his rival the triumph of seeing him worked up at the sight of you cumming so reverently under his touch. You felt powerless between them, shaking in Alastor's arms and pleading for Lucifer to join. One look is all it takes for the two to agree, giving into your minuscule wishes and thoroughly enjoying themselves the remainder of the evening.
Sharing is caring, but if you dare to utter a word of what transpired that night in the presence of others, both will deny the implication of tolerating one another. Although, you find yourself being used by both more often, stuffed full of their cum night after night, and keenly aware of the mutual trust growing between them when you finally collapse into sleep by their sides. They're capable of fair behavior with you, but only in private. Away from the eyes of others who’ll never witness how obsessed The Radio Demon & The King of Hell are with you and you alone.
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It's just a filler post cause I'm getting burnt out with requests! ❤️ I love your ideas, so I'm trying to write them all in my style but as concisely as possible. It's tiring but fun…
[ BONUS CONTENT + ]
They may not be able to stand each other but I’ll gladly take them both (not in a fight) ❤️ credits to creator
#hazbin hotel#alastor#hazbin hotel alastor#alastor hazbin hotel#human alastor#alastor hartfelt#alastor headcanons#hazbin hotel headcanon#alastor fluff#alastor smut#hazbin alastor#alastor x oc#alastor x reader#alastor the radio demon#alastor fanfiction#alastor x lucifer#alastor x you#lucifer hazbin x reader#hazbin lucifer#lucifer hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel lucifer#lucifer x y/n#lucifer x reader#lucifer x you#lucifer smut#the radio demon#radioapple#radioapplexyou lucifersmut luciferhazbinhotelsmut luciferfanfiction
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John Lennon x Reader - Calendar
Summary: As their PA, you need to know what they're doing over a free weekend. The only one proving difficult is John — who has a surprise.
A/N: a longer one! Enjoy! Requested by @kuroihinawari!
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Your job was simple. You filled in paperwork, made sure paperwork made it to the band, was signed, and returned promptly. You got them drinks and food when they were recording or waiting for an interview. You even, on the odd occasion, did their laundry. But that wasn't strictly part of your job description.
So, you wondered, why John Lennon had to make your workday as difficult as possible.
If you needed him to sign something, he was nowhere to be found, or he'd argue that he'd already signed it. When he denied a drink or food and you got everyone else something, he'd suddenly ask for some, causing you to have to go back and forth. You had realised that if he wasn't so attractive, you'd have gone mad by now.
It's not like he was never nice to you, though. In fact, you found him to be so incredibly charming and funny that he regularly had your cheeks aching from smiling. Sometimes, when you'd walk in to the room, he'd compliment you and your face would flush. You even received a few small gifts from him, usually for your birthday or after an event of some kind.
But that didn't stop John being... John.
A rare weekend off was coming up, and you had been asked to find out their plans. Ringo had very happily told you that he was staying home, George the same, and Paul said he was going to visit family with the wife. All of these interactions were pleasant, and you left them with a smile on your face.
But John? Not so much. When you asked the first time, he'd told you he was too busy. So, you left and told him you'd ask again later. Which is what you did, scouring the halls to find the elusive man. Ultimately, you found him tucked away in an office space.
You knocked on the door, waiting until he looked up and acknowledged you to enter.
"Hello, Mr. Lennon," You greeted, chirpy as ever in his eyes. For you, it was rather strained. It wasn't because of fear, but rather nerves. He just made youa little nervous.
"Hello," He greeted, cigarette meeting his lips so that he could take a drag. "You've found me, then."
"You didn't make it easy," You lightly joked, and you eased at the smirk tugging at his lips. "I'm just wondering what you're doing over the weekend?"
John peered at you through the circular lenses of his glasses, brows ever so slightly knitted together. It was the beginnings of John's annoyance, you figured. His lingering smile said otherwise.
"What are you doing this weekend?" He challenged, eyeing you expectantly.
That caught you off guard. Nobody had asked you yet, and the thought of the depressing weekend coming up was almost soul crushing. It was your birthday. You had no plans, and nobody to spend it with. Honestly, it embarrassed you greatly to have to admit to one of the most famous men in the world that you were alone on such a day.
"It's my birthday," You answered simply.
"Party then?"
"No. I'll be on... on my own, Mr. Lennon," You spoke so quietly, you wondered if he'd heard you.
But he did, and his brows arched and eyes briefly grew wide. His eyes lapped you up from head to toe, as if deciphering if you were being genuine. Upon realising that, yes, you were, his head tilted. And you swore you wanted to sink into the carpet the moment a hint of pity filled his gaze.
"How come?"
"I think it's pretty self explanatory," You gave a pathetic laugh, trying to play it off. "I don't have anyone to celebrate with."
John grew quiet then, eyes fixating onto the cigarette in his hand. The air grew thick with something other than pity, borderline suffocating. It was heavy, weighed you down like you were wearing metal shoes. You felt unable to move, unsure if whatever the silence was filled with was worth ruining.
But you had to. It was your job, after all.
"So, what's your plans, Mr. Lennon?"
"Come back to me," He dismissed once again, offering a smile unlike the last time he'd dismissed you earlier that day. "I promise I'll have it then."
"Okay. I'll see you later then, Mr. Lennon—"
"—John. You can call me John, love."
Your cheeks grew warm, the telltale sign of your blush as your lips tried to part into a grin. But you willed your body to calm down, that you should be used to this by now.
"I'll speak to you later, John."
"I'll be seeing you later," He nodded, watching as you left.
The rest of the day was uneventful; Ringo lost his sunglasses, so you scoured the dressing room to find them, Paul couldn't find his spare guitar strings, and George... George was fine, actually. Polite as always. But John was quieter than usual, a fact commented on by his bandmates and noticed in the lack of voices.
You thought very little of it, popping in and out to do your duties. You were passing time, watching the clock until the end of the day.
The moment the clock struck, you were on the prowl for John. Nobody knew where he was, and you were very quickly at your wit's end. Eventually, after your fifth circle of the building, you decided to just ask tomorrow. It was cutting it fine, really, but better then than never, right?
You collected your things, bid farewell to your colleagues (the boys included), and headed out to your car. You searched for your pack of cigarettes as you walked out of the main door, retrieving one to slip between your lips. As you looked up, your brows furrowed at the mass leaning against your car.
As you came nearer, you recognised the shadow as John. With a cigarette on the go and smile wide, he offered a flame out to you before you could question him. Offering a thankful smile of your own, you allowed him to light you up.
"I was looking for you, you know," You announced finally, hesitantly meeting his gaze.
And when you did, you swore your heart stopped. He was piercing into you, swallowing you whole. If not for your denial of anything happening between you two, you would've swore there was desire in his eyes.
He gasped at your words, a hand raising to cover his mouth. "Have I been a bad boy?"
"No," You giggled. You swore you never giggled until you met John. "It's about your plans for the weekend."
"Well, (Y/N), that depends," John said it so casually that you almost missed what he said. You watched with furrowed brows as he took a final drag of his cigarette and dropped it to the floor.
"On?" You felt stupid to ask, thinking you were walking into another mischievous John joke.
"If I can join you for your birthday."
He flashed teeth as he watched your expression cycle through many; surprised, confused, happy, and ending with cautious.
"Excuse me, John?" You managed without stuttering, heart pounding loud in your ears and making you struggle for breath.
"Well, I was wondering if I'd be able t' join you for your birthday," He reiterated, speaking a little clearer to gently make fun.
"...why? I'm sure you've got better things to be doing," You dropped your cigarette, not wanting it anymore, and instead began playing with your fingers. A nervous habit that John noticed right away.
"To be honest with you, I have no plans for the weekend. And seeing as it's your birthday, I thought I'd make a plan with you," His smile turned a little bit softer, more genuine. "Two attractive people, some tea, and a nice evening to finish it off."
All you got from that was the fact he had called you attractive. John Lennon thought that you were attractive. A part of you wanted to dance, or scream, or do something. But all you could do was stand there, blushing, eyes wide.
"You think I'm attractive?"
Why did you ask that? Your entire internal self was cringing into itself. You watched as he gave a short laugh and a nod, reaching out to take your hand in his.
"I think you're stunnin'," He bought your hand to his lips, leaving a kiss on the back. "And I'd love to spend your birthday with you."
"Yeah... yeah, okay," You nodded, cradling your hand to your chest when he let go. You gave him a warming smile, one that had his heart stopping this time. "I'll give you my address tomorrow, if you'd like?"
"Sounds good t' me!" He pushed off of your car, approaching you with a smirk. He leaned in, and your heart skipped a beat as you thought he'd kiss you, but instead his lips found your ear, "I've been waiting to spend some time with you."
And with that, he bid you farewell and began walking over to his car. It was only after a cool breeze hit you did you spin on your heels to face him again.
"John!" You called out, making him turn to you as well. "I think you're attractive, too!"
John offered a wave, walking backwards, "I know!"
#the beatles x reader#John Lennon x Reader#Here it is!! 🥰#ringo starr x reader#george harrison x reader#paul mccartney x reader
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(for my john simps + johngela audience) what if i told you guys…i was writing a fic where john finds out through andrew that angela has her own blog where she admits she finds john attractive…which leads him to try and flirt with (and failing) her in class…cue john being terrible at trying to be confident!!
like for starters this pessimistic queen has to get stuff off her chest SOMEHOW 😒😒
and imagine him trying to impress her and failing and she tells her blog about how embarrassing he is and how attractive she finds it 😭😭 angela (though she wouldn’t want to admit it) loves pathetic men and she is SO real for that
#dark pictures anthology#little hope#supermassive games#angela little hope#dark pictures little hope#john little hope#dark pictures#johngela#john/angela
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Do you have any Rize headcanons? :>
certainly i do!!
• she has nightmares about the washuus finding her, even to this day. back when she was young and living with shachi, she would frequently awake screaming from these nightmares. she'd shake and sob, and shachi would hold onto her until she cried herself into an exhaustive state and fell back asleep. i think he would frequently have to sit with her as a child as she fell asleep, holding her hand, just to assure her everything was okay. the nightmares have become less like night terrors but they still have her waking up drenched in sweat.
• she loves scented candles, and prefers to light those instead of having the lights in her apartment on. rize only gets floral scents, of course. any food scented ones would be entirely too nauseating. her favorite scent is jasmine. she wears a specific jasmine perfume everyday too. she's been using the same kind for years now, jasmine is her signature scent.
• i see rize as a cis woman, who typically uses she/her pronouns but wouldn't be offended by any usage of they/them. she's also a femme lesbian to me. it's never been any question to her that she was a lesbian, i think that she's literally never felt any semblance of true attraction to men. she loves leading them on to psychologically hurt them though, when she's not doing so to kill and eat them. it's like a game for her- how pathetic she can make a man act to try and impress her, knowing she'll never ever reciprocate.
• i've had this headcanon for a long time, but i really don't think she kills women. now, she's no human sympathizer, but there's something about killing or hurting women that just is distasteful to her. rize would NEVER admit to this but i think that she avoids killing women because she understands what it's like to be a woman who is being hunted, and it's just not something she'd be willing to inflict on another woman, human or ghoul. though, i think she has fought with fellow ghoul women before, as she knows they're more durable, but she's never killed them.
• there was a period of her life in which she kept her fingernails very long and very sharp. this was because she found it pleasurable to reach out and suddenly slash men's throats when they least expected it. i think that she ditched this style of nail though because she got tired of having to clean out the dried up blood underneath them! rize misses them at times but wouldn't ever try to get them back.
• she is a very popular book reviewer online! i think she has this whole anonymous blog dedicated to it lol. it's grown quite a fanbase over the course of a few years. everyone eagerly awaits her next review, and gives her suggestions for new books to read and review too. it's something that keeps her sane. she does Q&As on her blog too! her fans are always more than happy to participate.
• rize has a very well-loved stuffed rabbit that shachi gave to her as a girl. she's had to replace the bow around its neck since she got it, but it's still in good shape. it sits on a special shelf in her bedroom, along with a semi-weathered picture of her and shachi and a dried rose. the rabbit is white and named yuki. the ribbon around its neck is baby pink with white lace on the ends.
• rize a very good dancer in my eyes. it's like she has a really natural sense of rhythm. her moves are so lithe. her hips sway smoothly, as smooth as water in a stream. it's utterly entrancing to watch her dance, i believe. she's just so good at it. mayu in particular could watch her for hours.
• it is a rare occasion in which you will see rize in pants. the flowiness of a skirt or a dress is just what makes her most comfortable. i don't even think she really owns pants, minus a pair of sweatpants or two. you'll only see her in these sweatpants if she's feeling under the weather and having a sick day at home. otherwise, to lounge around, she prefers to wear a silk nightgown or a big t-shirt and a pair of panties.
• she's very crafty with the ways in which she styles her hair sometimes. i think she taught herself all sorts of braiding techniques, and she loves to do her hair in different updos and braids. most of the time it's just down, but she likes to spice it up with an updo/braid at times! at least three or four times a month.
hope these will suffice <3 i love my girl rize so much
#tokyo ghoul#tokyo ghoul re#tokyo ghoul:re#rize kamishiro#kamishiro rize#rize headcanons#tokyo ghoul headcanon#tokyo ghoul headcanons#ghoulsbian.headcanons
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Keeping Secrets
Just something quick with our favorite walking disaster. Still miss this guy :’(
Pairing: ARC Trooper Fives x Terran!reader
Warnings: Quickie, established secret relationship, smut, intimacy, Krell’s a bitch.
rated: 18+
Words: 1.6k+
It had been a routine patrol, nothing special, no surprises. The shift had actually been blissfully uneventful. All you wanted was sleep as you trudged back towards your barracks, even as lonely as it was. Krell had ordered for you to be separated from the others just because you were female. "Pathetic as she is, she can cause trouble and distraction with the men. Put her somewhere else." He'd snarled at Rex. You could feel the anger and reluctance radiating from under his helmet, but you didn't argue. You couldn't make things harder on the poor Captain. Even with how badly the room echoed, you were still looking forward to your bunk.
A hand snapped out of the shadows of an alcove, clamping around your mouth and dragging you in before you could even utter a peep, your eyes wide with panic. As soon as you were caged against a chest you were fighting back, elbows shoving back as hard as you could, your head snapping back to try and break their nose "Mesh'la! Mesh'la it's me!" Fives's voice was the barest whisper over the thunder of your beating heart, your breaths ragged under his palm as you stood still and processed what’d just happened. You weren't still for long though, stomping down on his foot to make him let you go "Ow! Ow ow ow!" He hissed as loudly as he dared, hopping on one foot as he held the affected one.
You crossed your arms as you scowled at him, completely displeased with his behavior "What the fuck were your thinking, Fives?" You hissed at him exasperatedly. You had expected him to seek out time with you, like he always did, but you hadn't expected him to simulate just how easy it would be to kidnap you during a hostile occupation.
You could practically feel the blush on his face, could imagine the blinding heat of it as he straightened up and rubbed the back of his neck "I... I just wanted to see you, cyare. It's been a while since I last kissed you. I missed you." He explained, hitting you with his best puppy eyes in the dim light, hope shining in his eyes like search lights.
You had to admit, as crazy as the ARC Trooper drove you, you absolutely loved him. And you absolutely could not resist him, or stay mad at that face for long "Come here, you big dork!" You groaned, pressing yourself back against him, one hand tangling in the short hair at the nape of his neck while the other clung to his chest plate. He was smiling as your lips met, savoring the taste of each other as his hands gripped desperately to your waist, like he was afraid you'd suddenly disappear if he was too happy.
The kiss quickly became hungry, his mouth gladly swallowing every encouraging sound you gave him as he spun the both of you around and pressed you into the wall, your backplate clacking softly against the duracrete, his hands wondering everywhere your armor wasn't. "Need you, pretty girl." He groaned as the two of you pulled back ever so slightly, lips still ghosting across each other, noses caressing each other.
His words made you moan softly, your core clenching in anticipation "You can have me, big boy." You spoke low and soft, moving so that every word was uttered directly into his ear, just how he liked. He felt like he'd died and gone to heaven every time you said those words, wondered how he got so lucky. He wanted to throw you over his shoulder and run all the way to your barracks, but you both knew that that would attract too much attention, and maybe even Kix's ire because people would think you were hurt. You picked up your helmets were they'd both been dropped before slipping them on, sinking into professionalism as you walked side by side.
None of the Troopers you passed questioned the sight of their mascot walking beside the ARC Trooper, the two had been, publicly anyway, good friends for over a year, practically since the anomaly had spat you out in the middle of a GAR barracks on Coruscant. They all just saluted and waited for you both to pass before continuing about their business. When you finally managed to reach your barracks, the door was locked tight behind you and his helmet was lying on the floor before you had time to blink, your helmet quickly joining his as you threw it off with as much careless abandon as he had. His hands were quick and clumsy as they began undoing your armor, his lips hurried and demanding against yours as your fingers worked at his own buckles. There were pieces of armor strewn everywhere, his kama hanging off of an empty bunk, his belt in a corner, your pauldron by the door, but neither of you cared about the mess. His touch made you both moan, his flesh warm compared to the chilled air of the room, gliding over your skin until you had gooseflesh. "So beautiful." He praised in a whisper, his pupils so dilated you were almost worried he couldn't see.
"Just for you." You promised him as you pressed your palms against his pectorals, his heart beating wildly in his chest. You pressed a gentle kiss just under his collarbone, taking your time to even nip and lick at the spot, teasing what was left of his resolve.
He groaned and lifted you in one swift motion, your legs wrapping around his waist on instinct as his hands gripped your ass so sinfully. Before you could even think about it, your lips teasing his, he thrust up into you, very nearly hilting on the first go, the familiar burn of the stretch exciting you further until you were practically gushing around him. He didn't give you time to adjust to his girth, rocking you on his cock as he held you, creating the perfect pace. "Feel so fucking good, cyare." He groaned through clenched teeth.
You eyes clenched shut involuntarily as he began teasing that one spot inside of you, barely brushing against it with every thrust, your fingers pulling at his hair as gently as you could manage "Fuckkkk, Fives!" You breathed as you threw your head back, your throat on full display. He didn't miss a beat as he walked to your bunk, laying you on it while staying inside of you, his hands gripping your thighs and holding your legs down as he shifted himself how he wanted. He leaned forward over you, pressing his shoulders into your legs and letting them go as he began thrusting again, the angle setting your nerves aflame with electricity as you cried his name like a prayer, your pussy squelching loudly around his cock as he thrust deeper and deeper into you. That coil in your belly tightened with every thrust until he hit your cervix, bursting the dam in one motion. "Fives!" You cried as he quickly covered your mouth with a hand again, the man's breathes stuttered and raspy as your walls clenched around him in waves.
"You feel so good, baby." He groaned, leaning forward more, deepening his angle, allowing him to get even deeper with every thrust. Your eyes rolled back in your head as you came again without warning, your walls sucking him in further, tightening and milking him for all he was worth. He hadn't wanted to cum so soon, he'd wanted to savor you, but sometimes things didn't work out like you wanted them to. He tried to stay as silent as possible as he came, his cock pulsing inside of you as he painted your walls. You both stayed there, his cock still twitching teasingly as you regained your breath, holding him close as he helped you move your legs off his shoulders. He loved it when you held him after sex, how you hugged him with your whole being, legs around his waist as he relaxed into you. It was something he'd never even think of trading for all the credits in the galaxy. You stayed like that as long as you dared, enjoying each other's presence on painfully borrowed time "I need to go now, sweetheart." He frowned against your neck before pulling away, already missing your embrace as you waited for him to fully pull away.
"Will I at least see you in the morning?" You asked softly as you sat up, watching him collect his gear and slowly get dressed again.
He came back after he had his underwear and his blacks bottoms on, sitting on the bed beside you, warm hand cupping your cheek tenderly "Of course, bright and early like always." He promised with a gentle smile.
You couldn't help but smile back, his smiles always so contagious "Good. Seeing you in your armor is better than the strongest cup of caf." You giggled as he blushed, grinning like a happy Nexu before he pulled you into a quick kiss. "Better get dressed, big boy. Don't want Rex wonderin' where you are." You pulled back with a wink, leaving the man to chase after you slightly for another kiss before he abandoned the idea in favor of dressing quickly. Rex had been the only one so far to even have an inkling that you two were more than friends, having nearly caught you several times, and you having to lie in place of Fives so that the secret could remain. The entire GAR knew Fives couldn't lie to save his life, after all. Fives stole one last kiss before he left, you locking the door behind him and making your way to the fresher, wanting to wash the day away before you caught some sleep.
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Blue? Came across the general idea on another blog (but there was no story) of Simon and Ghost being two separate entities, like one is “human” and the other is decidedly *not* human. Reader OR Soap is the only one available to wrangle them. *whispers* monsterfucker…. Who said that?!
*RUNS AND HIDES*
I'm lowkey bad at xreader, so I'm gonna do xsoap. Anyway, this is for Horror Night!
--
Soap sighed when he saw Ghost just... disappear into the warehouse. He'd seemed almost... feral.
Price looked at him, gesturing. Great.
Soap had become well known as the only one to be able to wrangle Ghost when he got into a mood. Soap sighed. "Just go out to the truck, guys. I'll get him."
Soap straightened up and went into the warehouse, holding his gun, carefully. Lately, Ghost's "episodes" had been more and more frequent. Soap had caught him arguing with himself, the last time.
Soap tried not to cringe as he walked into the warehouse. It was dark and cold and Soap hated it. He almost missed the warmth of Mexico, even at night.
Fuck, it was damp, too. He cringed at the squelching noise of his boot stepping in a mudpie and gagged a little, unable to help it. He hated this. "Ghost! Damnit, just come out! I don't have the patience for this tonight."
"Funny, I do." Soap whipped around, hearing Ghost's voice behind him. It was a little distant, but he didn't see him.
"Real funny, you bastard." Soap narrowed his eyes at the corner. Vaguely, he started to be able to make out the shape of a person.
Soap jumped back when red eyes suddenly shined in the corner, slipping on the mud and falling.
Ghost laughed, loud. It filled the warehouse more than it should. Soap was quickly on his feet. "Real fucking funny." He was tired of this. Ghost had been so fucking weird, lately.
Ghost slowly came out of the shadows. "Poor, Johnny. Did I frighten you?"
"No." Soap lied. "Come on, let's go. It's cold and wet and I want to get back."
Ghost crossed the warehouse to Soap. "I've wanted to play with you for a very very long time. He keeps me so tightly locked away." His fingers trailed down Soap's face.
Soap frowned. "What the fuck are you on about, Simon??" He moved his head away from Ghost.
"Don't call me that." Ghost snapped, grabbing Soap's throat.
Soap's eyes widened and he tensed, now very confused and a little afraid. "It's your name, isn't it?"
"Not mine. His." Ghost used his hand to tilt Soap's head back, looking down in his eyes. Soap shivered, realizing Ghost's were blood red.
That was not natural.
"His?" He decided to ask, hoping if he kept Ghost talking, he could get him away.
"That pathetic bastard." Ghost half snarled, though it sounded bored. Lazy. "He trapped me in his body. He keeps me locked away. Fuck, all I wanted was to touch you. To play with you. And he didn't want to hurt you."
Soap shivered at his words, frowning more. "Simon?" This wasn't making any sense.
"Who else?" Ghost pulled up his mask and half grinned, letting it rest on his nose. Soap had seen his face many times before, but even still, he was shocked at the scarring. A permanent almost purple smile, acid and venom scarring.
Even still, Soap would admit he found him horribly attractive.
Ghost watched Soap's eyes trace every scar. "You like your men fucked up, don't you? It's what draws you to him. You like that he's broken. You think you can fix him."
Soap flushed. "No-"
"Don't lie." The hand squeezed. Ghost half grinned and Soap tensed again, his breath catching at the sight of sharp fangs. Those had not been there, before.
Ghost laughed again and then he shoved Soap down. Soap looked up at Ghost, half horrified, but half curious. He wanted to know what Ghost planned to do to him.
"He'll have my head if I don't ask, though I don't think I need to but..." Ghost's tone turned mocking, "you want this, right?"
Soap paused. Did he? "Yes." So fucking bad.
Ghost grinned again and crouched down, resting his arms on his knees. "Be a good boy and undress for me, then."
Soap didn't waste time. He didn't even care about the mud or the cold at this point. He barely even got up. Ghost's eyes followed every movement and when he was done, his eyes flicked over Soap's body.
Soap had never considered himself shy. He had no shame. But even still, those blood red eyes had him turning a similar shade.
Ghost noticed and leaned his head back, laughing again. It once again filled the warehouse and sent a shiver down Soap's back. "So eager... so sweet..."
Soap looked up at Ghost, waiting. For once, he found himself with nothing to say.
Ghost stood and put his arms out, slightly. His body started to change. Soap's eyes widened as Ghost... grew. His shoulders widened and a sickening bone cracking noise sounded. The cloth on his body shredded at certain spots to make room for the still growing body.
Ghost ran his hands up his face, pulling the mask off fully and long curled mangled horns grew in the process.
Any skin Soap could see had turned a shade of grey that was almost sickening. Black veins spread across his skin and mangled wings that were missing feathers sprouted from his back and stretched out.
Soap wanted him so fucking bad. Despite the unimagineable happening right in front of him, he wanted it so bad. He was desperate for Ghost.
Ghost crouched down and pulled Soap up. Soap fell into his lap when Ghost sat back. Ghost positioned him, carefully, on his knees, though he was still straddling Ghost, and Soap could have laughed at the irony of his carefulness. But he didn't.
Soap braced himself on Ghost's shoulders the best he could, shivering as he watch Ghost run his long tongue up his own fingers. They then were positioned against Soap's hole, Ghost's free hand holding his hip.
Soap huffed when Ghost seemed to pause. "I'm not fucking fragile, just do it!"
Ghost laughed again and then was shoving his fingers in, two of them. Soap almost regretted yelling at him, because that may have been a little too much too fast, but Ghost kissed him deeply, shoving his tongue down his throat.
Then the warmth spread through his body. It was euphoric and Soap almost fell back from it, but Ghost's hand kept him upright, firm on his body, as he pulled away.
"It's like a drug..." Ghost purred and leaned down, biting Soap's neck.
Soap moaned as he broke the skin, Ghost's fingers starting to pump in and out. "Fuck..." He moaned and arched into Ghost.
Ghost pulled his fingers out way too soon and Soap almost whimpered, though he was still aware enough to not let himself do that.
However, Ghost didn't leave him hanging for too long. He moved Soap's hips and pulled him down, pushing in as Soap sank down. Soap moaned loudly, the warmth in his body intensifying with the deep pleasure.
"He wanted to keep you from this..." Ghost murmured before biting Soap's collarbone. Soap arched into Ghost, crying out with pleasure. "Wouldn't let me play with you. Isn't that awful??"
Soap immediately nodded. He wanted this so bad. "Play with me, Ghost, please..."
"You're on top, Johnny. Move if you want it."
Soap didn't even hesitate. He lifted up, almost trembling from the pleasure it caused, before sliding back down. He could feel Ghost's cock, every inch, stretching him out.
Soap's head fell back and he dug his nails into Ghost's shoulders. He started to lift up and then go back down at a faster pace, though it was still hard to do it himself. Ghost guided him a little but it was clear he enjoyed to watch Soap struggle.
"Fuck yourself on my cock, Johnny. You can do it..." Ghost purred, biting his other collarbone. Soap bounced faster on his cock, arching with each lift up.
It became easier, but only just so. But Soap would do anything Ghost told him to.
Eventually Ghost's hand wrapped around his cock, so Soap would lift up, and his hips would move right into Ghost's hand. The pleasure doubled and Soap almost couldn't keep going. "Fuck, it's too much-"
"No it's not." Ghost smiled. "You can handle it, I believe in you."
Soap nodded. He could. He kept going, gripping Ghost's shoulders tighter. He jerked his hips when his movement accidentally stuttered and he almost fell back in shock when Ghost moaned softly.
Soap couldn't contain himself after that. He rolled his hips with each bounce and Ghost's eyes shut, soft moans occasionally falling from his mouth.
Pride flooded Soap's chest from the sounds. He was causing that. Him.
Ghost's hand tightened around his cock and Soap did let out a whimper that time, his hips stuttering a bit. He kept going, though, not wanting to disappoint him.
Soap could feel his stomach clench and the need to cum arose in his mind, but he felt almost disappointed at the idea of it ending so soon. He wanted it to keep going, he almost needed it to keep going.
But sadly, all good things come to an end. Soap screamed as he came, Ghost sinking his teeth deep into his neck, right under where the first one was.
Ghost used his hands to slam Soap down on his cock, making his scream louder, groaning as he came in time with him. Soap fell into Ghost, barely conscious.
"I'm going to be back to play with you more." Ghost promised, half petting his hair. "Don't you worry, Johnny."
Oh thank god, was all Soap could think.
#bunnie's horror night#blue#ghost is the same in this as he was in the ghostxrudy#though it's still an AU#like different ghosts same creature#Johnny Soap Mactavish#Simon Ghost Riley#Soap Cod#Ghost COD#Soapghost#Ghostsoap#Soap x Ghost#Ghost x Soap#Macriley#Call of Duty#Call Of Duty Modern Warfare 2
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Weathering the Storm (Ororo Munroe x Reader)
Summary: The boys never learn.
Words: 1081
Warnings: Language?
A/N: My first time with her but at the request of my girlfriend, I am nothing if not willing to try. Also, the original Storm is absolutely the best so Ms. Berry is who I imagine. Also... so pretty.
Taglist: @natasharomanoffswife @natasha-danvers @aaron-despair @username23345 @xjiasx @nowthisisliving27 @higherfurther-romanova @summergeezburr @marvels-writings @imnotasuperhero @miscmarvelwritings @captain-josslett @onlyafewfindtheway @hayleyokami @b-5by5 @lostandsearching @evilcr0ne
-X-
Leaning against the wall, watching Storm chew out Logan and Scott for yet another petty fight over Jean, you considered the weather goddess with curious eyes. Always a champion for her friend, if you didn’t know her the way you did, you’d almost be concerned she’d electrocute both men until they managed to retract their heads from their asses.
“She has been with you for years, Scott, why are you so insecure about this? Do you think Jean looks at either of you and thinks this is attractive? For God’s sake, I’m sure cavemen would have better manners!” she scolded, throwing her hands up in the air exasperatedly.
As your hair began to rise on its own, you huffed, kicking off the wall and strolling casually over to the irate woman, wrapping a calming arm around her waist.
“C’mon, Munroe, breathe. One-Eye and Beast Boy over there aren’t worth a tornado,” you joked, glancing out the window at the darkening sky.
Feeling her sag into your hold, she gripped your arm tightly and glared at them. “This needs to stop. Jean despises this rivalry of yours and is starting to feel like a prize to be won instead of a person. It doesn’t matter who wins an argument or gets the last word. She makes her choice.”
“And I highly doubt, if you keep acting like macho morons, she’s going to want to stay with either of you,” you added with a smirk. “This whole ‘whose dick is bigger’ contest is getting to be kind of pathetic all the way around. No one here thinks y’all are cool doing this; we honestly kind of pity you both.”
Logan’s hackles visibly raised as his dark gaze fell upon you but you shrugged it off. Even if they didn’t want to admit it, everyone knew you were right. It was up to them to decide where to go from here.
“Why do either of you get to decide how Jean feels?” Scott questioned, shrinking under the proverbial – or maybe literal, you couldn’t be sure from this angle – lightning glistening in Storm’s eyes.
“Because you two don’t listen when Jean says how she’s feeling, so maybe you’ll listen to us. Or don’t, and watch Jean leave both of you for someone else. I’m sure there’s plenty of guys –”
“- or ladies,” you chimed in helpfully.
“Or ladies here that would be more than happy to earn Jean’s affection.”
Chuckling, you pressed your chin to Storm’s shoulder as you studied the crestfallen expression painted across Scott’s cheeks. “I know Emma is pretty fond of her. And her diamonds make her pretty much immune to whatever Jean can do so she’d be a great fit. Plus Rogue’s always had a crush on her – once she finally got tired of Bobby being Bobby – and she’s not a kid anymore. Hell, she can drink now. I’m sure she’d have no qualms about stealing Jean’s heart away.”
The redness blossoming across their faces filled you with glee. You liked Logan – he whined less than Scott, which automatically made him better than Laser-Face in your eyes – but he was acting no better.
Pressing her back into your chest, Storm peered at the silent men. “Any other questions you’d like to voice now?”
Growling quietly to himself, Logan stalked out of the room without a glance at anyone, fishing a cigar from his pocket as he went. Scott did the same, though he went in a different direction, probably off to lick his wounds in peace.
“They didn’t hear a word we said, did they?” Storm mumbled, closing her eyes as the familiar tightness of an impending headache made itself known.
Humming softly, you swayed to a beat only you could hear, ignoring the way your heart thumped painfully loud at the position you were in. It’d been instinctual, but now she wasn’t trying to inch away and you weren’t ready to let go. “I think Logan was listening, even if it wasn’t what he was hoping to hear. Scott on the other hand? Probably not. He’s always seemed to view Jean as a prize instead of a person. He’s tried controlling her from day one, she just doesn’t listen.”
Silence filled the living room, a nervousness overtaking you as you wondered what came next. Should you let her go? Surely Ororo didn’t want to be kept hostage in your arms…
Right?
“You know, I don’t know if I should be thanking you for what you said to the boys or if I should be teasing you right now.”
Jean’s amusement was palpable as she sauntered into the room, her brow arched and lips upturned. If you were anyone else, she’d probably be skeptical of your motives – of the way you were cuddling with her best friend so openly, like it was a completely normal occurrence for Storm to let anyone hold her in such an intimate manner – but it was plain to see how much you cared for her. The fact you two weren’t dating was more confusing than any position she could catch you in.
“Jean…”
“Since they had no questions to ask, I’ll ask one instead. When are you going to finally admit you have feelings for each other? This game of ‘will they or won’t they’ is exhausting.” The look in her eyes was expectant, but gentle, quietly urging you to force the step you’d never managed to take before. “I will leave you to discuss. Thank you for talking to them for me, though. I think everyone in this awful game of tug-of-war needed to hear what you said.”
She was gone before you could say a word, gone just as quickly as she’d arrived. Gentle like a leaf in the breeze but far more powerful than a hurricane, she was truly exceptional at making an impact in a short amount of time.
Damn you, Jean Grey.
Hush eclipsed you once more. Finding the right words seemed impossible; what could you say to a woman like Ororo Munroe without sounding like an utterly love struck teenager?
“…wanna get coffee sometime?” you mumbled when all else failed, thankful she couldn’t see the awkward grin on your lips or feel the way your cheeks were burning with embarrassment.
For a moment, all was still and you considered letting her go so you could retreat in mortified shame. Why did you have to ask such a stupid, silly question?
You idiot, why did you…
“…I’d really like that.”
#ororo munroe imagine#ororo munroe x reader#x-men imagine#storm imagine#storm x reader#storm xmen#marvel imagine#mcu imagine#MCU fic#x-men x reader
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Someone liked my “do you want Vegeta HC” post so NOW YOU ALL GET TO DEAL WITH IT !!!! It’s my selfship ones soooooooo yeah.
🍓 BEANGETA LIST !!! 🍓
(Chibi art by @snaelrz )
-He doesn’t really like sweet stuff in regards to food. He likes strawberries but only because he associates them with a certain someone (ME !!!!!).
-He says heavy metal is his favorite music genre to be all tough. He’s a liar, his favorite band is ABBA.
-He still has his tail and a lot of times it shows his true emotions and he gets annoyed with it; It’s very expressive.
-He has scars. Why they got rid of his scars after Namek I have no idea I love them ❤️
-He has fangs! I love da chompers!!!!
-He likes to be little spoon (will never admit it).
-He likes Raditz, Goku, and Nappa’s company (he will never admit it).
-He likes everything to be neat and tidy, even when he isn’t. He’ll clean around the house but only when he’s alone. Folds his clothes nicely and everything has its proper spot in his room. Doesn’t care if he isn’t showered though because “I’ll just get dirty again anyway” until I force him to wash up.
-He’s incredibly competitive. Reverse psychology really works on him. If you say he can’t do something, he’ll go out of his way to prove you wrong. The “Goku button” is definitely a thing, don’t press it.
-Gets flustered easily and usually just pretends to be mad so people leave him be.
-Doesn’t really like PDA, holding hands is pushing it for him; he gets shy and over thinks it. He’ll place a hand on the small of my back, rub his tail against mine briefly, bump shoulders with me, etc
-When alone with him, he has a thing for physical touch. Likes running his hands through my hair, down my arms and shoulders, especially loves petting my tail or holding it in his hands *gently* so it doesn’t cause discomfort. He loves being babied after training sessions. Around the full moon he gets REALLY touchy.
-Loves compliments (ego boost 100) especially about how strong he is or handsome or simply how much better he is than Goku.
-He gets jealous of other men pretty easily, especially if he doesn’t know them. He will worm his way between me and someone else if he feels we’re too close. Shows more affection when he’s jealous to get others to back off. A quick kiss will knock me out and he’ll sit there smirking at whoever was talking to me (the only time he’s okay with PDA) (it’s super effective)
-He loves being called “my prince,” “prince Vegeta,” or “your majesty.” Different tones can set the mood for him very quickly. Usually if someone else other than me calls him any of these he gets agitated because he thinks he’s being mocked. My teasing nickname for him is “Veggie.” He says he hates it but he’s a liar, and gets really pissed if someone else calls him it (it’s our thing).
-He never uses people’s real names, usually goes with nicknames he comes up with to spite them. If he uses your real name, you’re either Yamcha (he thinks it’s funny), in a dire situation, dying (or close to), or being intimate. Calls me “princess” sometimes 🥺. In public though I’m always referred to as “woman.”
-He usually trains alone or with Goku but on certain occasions he’ll ask me to go with him. It’s usually really intense and he can get pretty degrading but knows when to stop. “Pathetic. Try it again.” “What the hell are you doing? Was that supposed to hurt?” He knows what I can and can’t handle. Sometimes I impress him and he gets…. Yeah.
-He likes seeing me goof around with Trunks and finds the motherly aspect attractive. Sometimes refers to me as Trunk’s mom.
He makes me all silly and happy !!!!!!!!
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That poor woman getting attacked with the brick by that scrote while other scrotes just watched reminded of this reddit story where a man and his wife was attacked at the park with a rock because he was asian and the attacker was racist and didn’t want to hear another language being spoken. The man was teaching his wife how to speak his native language so their kid could be bilingual. His wife protected this loser man and got scars on her face from the attack. She was then coerced into getting pregnant by him when she wasn’t sure about having kids. So this woman is pregnant when she wasn’t sure about kids, protected her husband when attacked and yet HE said that he loved her less now because of it. He felt less like a man and with the scars she had, he wasn’t attracted to her. He tried to push her to surgery but she refused to save money for the baby. And I remember that he was wondering how to ask her for permission to cheat because he has “needs” yet felt “bad about it”
The brick situation also reminded me of the video of this man who tried to sexually coerce a girl in the Philippines or Indonesia (I can’t remember) and all the grown men just stood around to watch this girl try to yell at this man to go away. Then a group of women just attacked this man and kept kicking him and throwing him around so he could leave.
Women will protect each other. I’ve protected other girls from creepy men before. It’s been proven that women on average feel safer around women than men. A woman will literally protect a man from being attacked. Yet men see us doing this for them as an attack ON THEM. They will repay this act with cheating or blaming us for even being attacked at all. I believe men who watch this happen subconsciously believe we deserve the attack for no reason.
Oh I think I already read that story of the Asian man and his girlfriend who got assaulted😶🌫️
Women should NEVER try to defend men. PERIOD. We're literally the weaker ones, we have no business trying to protect men.
I really hope that's fake story though, but I remember it was too peculiar to be made up...
And the video of the philippina women kicking an abusive man also tells me something. Strength in numbers lol OF COURSE women will feel safer around each other. Women aren't out there raping and assaulting each other like male do. Men love being like "women hate each other" as if they weren't the ones shooting each other down, beating each other to death over petty thief or a simple stare, and so on...🙄 I've dealt with terrible/abusive/harassing women and they never made me feel unsafe for my physical integrity. Men love projecting their terrible treatment of each other onto women to make us look like the meanest ones, but then turn around and whine about how they have it harder and stuff. Is it only women bullying them? or are they gonna finally admit that they are actually unsupportive of each other to the point there's an endemic of male suicide?
like- men flip flopping between "women hate each other" and "women have a better support system therefore we are the oppressed ones" is so weird....Who do they think supports other women? ...men? Those who are stastically more prone to leave their wife once she gets sick...? 🤡 LMAO it's so obvious they have some sort of deep seated jealousy towards the actual female fellowship but are too prideful to admit bc it would mean their narrative is full of crap and a pathetic cope lmao
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Wow. Larries are really dropping like flies huh? At this point who is really a larrie? They’re all here for harry and whatever man will come his way. I see how they always post hateful anons about louis, but thousands of asks about harry, how much they love him, how he’s the love of their life. - he makes me so happy. He’s my joy- where were these words when he was with Olivia? Ah, now he makes them happy because he waves pride flags, trans flags and performs medicine while licking his fingers pretending it’s come? While louis is a chav, with a son and a 22 year old girlfriend? Ok. “I’m a larrie but I don’t like Louis. I won’t watch his documentary I like him but harry is my fave” LMAO. They don’t admit they’re not larries because the followers count is too important!! 🥴
it's because harry queerbaits and that's basically all they want in a white man they find attractive. the idea he isn't into women so they don't have to be jealous, and can instead fantasize some type of oppression for him. and of course, fetishize the idea of mlm relationships.
the others like louis don't do that, because that's homophobic and pathetic, so the fanbase hates them. they're into cartoon character men they can project upon and perpetually see as innocent quirky baby teenagers, who aren't too sexual or too unsexual. they want a type of ken doll they can fantasize into certain sexual displays or fantasies, but if someone else or another woman starts talking about him as though he's a sexual being, they'll turn into weird evangelical nationalist american christian mothers who think it's disgusting we'd talk about sex in front of this little uwu baby.
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No pressure at all to answer this, buuuut your answers about Rhiannon and Mason made me very curious, so if you feel like it, 13 and 14 for them? Though she may not be happy about it, there has to be a reason she's attracted to him, right?
Rhiannon stomped into this world very recently so I'm still learning all her secrets
13. Did your detective save M or Sanja? Why do you think they do so? And how are they feeling about the aftermath? (Sanja dying, M getting hurt, both being fine in the end) Do they regret their decision?
Rhi ended up saving Mason and Sanja died. Afterwards, thinking over what was fundamentally an instinctive response, she tries to rationalise it: Mason was closer, they needed to deal with the threat of the Trappers first, there was no way of knowing she would even get to Sanja, no way of knowing when Adam would show up, etc. She's never had training for situations like this, so while she can argue rationally that it wasn't her fault, she can't shake the truth that she did it because she didn't want to lose him. Which is ridiculous and pathetic because he doesn't even care about her, right?
14. What do you think drew your detective to M? And when exactly was the moment, where it was “yes, I like them” (If they’ve admitted that to themselves, of course) And if not, what’s stopping them at this point?
If you asked her she'd just scoff and say she obviously has shit taste in men. Physically, he's attractive and confident, but he mostly just annoyed her during the Murphy case with the constant come-ons. Once that's over and the Agency basically withdraws and leaves her to deal with the nightmares on her own, she starts to think about how relieved he seemed when they found her, and that's when she starts to suspect she caught feelings. It means she spends most of B2 fighting it because every time he flirts it's a painful reminder that he doesn't actually want her and every time he does something mildly nice it's lik the witch looking at the new hat in the shop window. And he can probably tell everything she's thinking with his hypersenses and it's embarrassing as hell.
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Wayhaven route questions
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bar
Bunny is used to being approached in bars. Not a thing of ego to admit, just a fact. She tends to attract women more often than not, and prefers it that way. Most of the time.
So, in a shitty little pub in Boston, at the end of a boring conference with the usual dry-coughed, gray-haired crowd, she’s pleasantly surprised when a man sidles up to her. Annoyed too, because it’s a man.
She can feel him at her left and continues watching the hockey game on the television — but lets her eyes slip along the bottom lash line to catch a peek.
He’s young, clearly, and that has her mouth scowling up towards her nose in distaste. Far from her type. She can accept the aesthetic pull; his prettiness is the softly arrogant boy sort of attractive. Like he’s been plucked off a Manhattan street in 1998, like someone had put a twinks wanted sign outside an American Apparel. This, Bunny thinks as she turns to eye him up and down, is what you’d get if you reached in and plucked one of them at random.
He’s not the way Bunny usually likes men. Or likes people, rather. There’s a certain untrustworthiness about somebody that beautiful. They always think they can get away with whatever they’d like.
Maybe that’s just her own issues though.
Anyway, he’s not her type. But he is the alcohol’s, and that is goddamn unfortunate. Otherwise she would be able to ignore him as he moves closer. The totally unsubtle crawl of a man at a bar about to make a move. It’s almost endearing.
“Hey,” he says, and flashes a smile. The way he does it tells her that this is all it usually takes for him to be successful.
Bunny is sure that, if he’s asked, he’d tack on a charming to that smile. She has been around her fair share of those — men and grins alike. And, to be fair to him, it is a decent one; toothy and wide, a bit wild at the edges to betray that there’s something else going on under the surface. But she knows, just from looking at him, that he thinks this lopsided smirk is more effective than it actually is. That alone makes her want to swat him aside, bruise his ego.
“Are you even old enough to be in here?” Bunny glances left-right over his shoulders, as if she might find a parent standing behind him.
He pouts, pink lips twisting nice and pretty, and she thinks for just a second what he might look like under her, doing that. Rolls her eyes to clear the image, because — Christ, he really does look young. She’s three tonics in and that’s enough to bubble her stomach in distant disgust.
“Yes,” he says a bit petulantly. If she weren’t tipsy, she might just get up and walk away. The only time a man should sound that pathetic is in bed, as far as she’s concerned.
But just as the morose shade falls across his face it lifts, everything loose and bright and joyful. Like he’s just fucking happy to be right where he is.
“More importantly, I’m old enough to buy you a drink.” He leans against the bar, propping himself with an elbow by her glass on its napkin. He’s holding his head up with a big hand pressed to his temple, mop of red hair nearly falling in his face.
This close, Bunny can see how absolutely massive his pupils are blown. They’re big, black voids swallowing up each of his green irises. Oh, she thinks, mouth twitching, that’s why he looks as if he’s fucking happy to be here.
“What sort of issues are you trying to work through?” She asks, peering over the rim of her glass as she drinks from it. Gestures, when he only shakes his head, at the length of her body in the barstool.
His smile falters a degree. “I just think you’re hot.” He’s got a local accent.
“Yeah, I get that. It’s why I asked.” Bunny says, edging very close to bored the longer the interaction drags.
He only blinks at her, and the fidgety energy of him as he tries to stand calm and normal before he overrides some of the disgust. He seems nervous, not just high. That’s blood in the water for Bunny.
Regretfully exhausted with herself, she says: “All right. Follow me.”
She stands from the bar, gathers her coat from the seat next to her, and heads towards the door. She’s already closed her tab, and she does not need to look over her shoulder to know that the man is following her. Right at her heels, maybe his hands shoved in the pockets of his tellingly military pants.
She doesn’t look back until she’s rounded the edge of the building, stood under one of the streetlights. They’re near the mouth of an alley and it’s a nice autumn night, cool and crisp but still early enough in the evening that some of the warmth lingers.
Bunny turns briskly to face him. And yes, he’s there. His eyes snap up, having been staring somewhere near the direction of her ass, and it’s flattering enough for her to smirk. Then his cheeks go pink, and her fuzzy, alcohol-sodden brain goes: oh, why not?
“What’s your name?” He breathes as she takes several steps towards him, that grin on his face again. Like he thinks he can charm personal information out of her, like she’s not been around this block and it's new territory. “Mine is —“
“Nope.” Bunny says, slapping a hand over his mouth. Those big eyes go wider for a split second and then flutter half-shut, heavy lidded. Beneath her palm, the grin twists a little filthy. “I don’t have a name and neither do you.”
She drops her hand to his chest, shoves very firmly until he has to retreat backwards or fall on his ass. He whines a little when he hits the brick wall, but it doesn’t sound pained. Just excited. More fucking catnip, more blood in the water.
In the center of his chest, Bunny fists her hand and drags him forward. He’s only a few inches taller than her, but he still bends eagerly at the waist like he has to accommodate a larger height difference.
He’s not a bad kisser, she thinks when their mouths meet. Too enthusiastic, too wet, but his hand comes up to rest on her shoulder and he makes a tiny, content noise so it’s fine. It’s good.
Until she pulls back for a breath and looks at him, anyway.
Young, the remaining sober inch of her mind screams. Abort abort abort.
“How old are you?” She asks, despite her better judgement, dreading the answer. His eyes flutter open.
“Huh? Oh,” that grin as he reaches for his back pocket. Fishes out an ID from a beat to hell leather wallet with duct tape wrapped around the outside, and holds it up for her to examine.
The ID is vertical. Bunny’s eyebrows pull tightly diagonal in dismay, her mouth curling.
“Jesus fucking Christ —“ she starts, and takes a step back from him.
“No, no! Don’t worry,” he tucks it away, holding both hands up. “We can keep going! I just haven’t gotten it renewed in a few years. I’m twent—“
“Eugh.” Bunny interrupts with a revolted huff, feeling her stomach give a little. There’s a deep grimace on her face. “Oh, shut up. Shut up. Ew.”
She turns away, face warming with a mortified flush, and begins to walk down the street. Behind her, the heavy patter of long-limbed feet.
“Do not follow me. Go home, kid.” Bunny calls without turning back, slinging her coat over a shoulder and fixing the suspender back into place. He’d brushed it aside during the kiss, and she thinks very seriously about throwing the pair away when she gets back to her hotel room.
Alone.
“Fuck, Sullivan,” she mutters to herself. “Get it together.”
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LEA
Lea POV
I look across the room and see a cute girl waiting by the chocolate fountain. I’m at a party and I am bored because there is no one here that I know. I came with my friend, but she abandoned me for a cute boy. But damn, I was more interested in this girl now. She gave off this vibe that said “Come over here”. I was definitely going to listen, because I had nothing better to do. “Hey, girl,” I said, slowly strutting over to her. She smirks at me. “Oh, aren’t you Hueningkai’s big sis?” she wonders.
I smirk back. “Um, yeah. I’m Lea. Do you wanna maybe get out of here, go outside?” I ask.
Y/N POV
What the hell, this girl Lea, who was Hueningkai’s brother, was talking to my pathetic ass. I wasn’t gonna say no, though. I had come to the party with my boyfriend, but he had disappeared on me anyway. We sat outside, sipping our drinks casually, watching people inside dance or make out through the window. “Um, so what brings you here?” she wonders casually. “My boyfriend’s best friend is hosting it,” I murmur. I glance over to see her whole face cringe, but she quickly hides it. “Oh, um, I’m single,” she mutters. I laugh. “Really? An attractive woman like you?”
Lea POV
“I’m attractive?” I ask her, wanting to hear it again from her lips. She’s very intriguing and beautiful. “Oh yeah. Not that I’m lesbian or anything. Also I have a man,” she says too quickly. I laugh at her response. “Okay. Well, you’re hot”, I say confidently. She shivers. “Oh…” she says breathily. That does it. I lean over and peck her lips. “Oh fuck, was that okay?” I ask. She grins. “I have a man, and I’m not gay, but fuck that was hot,” she admits.
I grin. “Well, here’s more then,” I whisper in her ear, grabbing her shoulders and throwing myself on her lap. I bite down on her bottom lip, and grind my pussy slowly against her. These stupid jeans need to come off. I don’t even care that we’re outside. “W-what if my boyfriend comes out here and sees?” she worries. I laugh. “That’s his problem,” I reply, grinding harder. I lick her bare shoulder and rub her clothed clit with my fingers, eliciting a moan that’s sending me over the edge. Neither of us have experience with other women, but now I don’t want to go back to men.
Y/N POV
This woman, what the fuck. I didn’t know I could feel this good. My boyfriend never pleases me like this, he only fucks me to please himself. So, this woman is making me come undone. I might break up with my man after this, because how can I go back to men now? Let him come out here and see, I don’t care anymore. He doesn’t treat me the best anyway. Lea bites my lips hungrily and I moan in response.
“Lea~” I whine. “Mmm”, she hums against my lips, rubbing her pussy against mine. “We need to fuck. Take your clothes off,” I moan. She does, easily unsnapping her bra and whipping it off after her shirt. She lets me undo her jeans and panties, causing me to moan at how soft and tasty she looks. She then helps me with my own clothes, and we’re bare, in public, in someone’s backyard, about to fuck. Specifically my boyfriend’s best friend’s backyard. The fuck am I doing? Eh, who cares. I need Lea Huening to fuck me and that’s all that matters.
Lea POV
I grin at her, slowly moving my eyes down her body, visually fucking her. She shivers. “Lea…” she murmurs. I grab her delectable titties and squeeze them softly, circling her nipples with my fingers. She throws her head back and whines. “Oh my fucking god, yesssss mommy!” she yelps. I smirk. She’s just encouraging me to go further. I hope she knows what she is signing up for. I can’t handle being called mommy. It makes me go feral. I keep squeezing her left boob, and move my mouth onto the nipple on her right. She tastes so soft and good. I suck harder until she is screaming with delight. I swipe my tongue all over that thing.
I’m surprised no one has come out here yet. She pushes me off suddenly. “It’s my turn to make you feel good,” she says. I shiver. “Okay, Mommy,” I reply. She puts her fingers in my mouth and then squeezes my nipples. She bends down to taste them, and then swipes her fingers up my pussy without warning. “Uhhhhh~” I moan or something. I don’t know how to make noise, it just feels so good. “Fingering leaves you speechless?” she murmurs. “Mmm.” I squirm around so she can hit my sweet spot. “You’re so needy,” she says. I am. But so is she.
Y/N POV
Lea’s cunt feels amazing on my fingers. It’s making my own pussy wet with desire and need. Lea notices this and bends down. “Can I taste you?” she asks. I nod, shaking with need. “Please, Lea. Eat me out. My boyfriend sucks at it.” She puts her lips near my pussy, sliding her tongue up my thighs to tease me. My moans and sighs push her over the edge until she is licking my clit and my folds, using her fingers to tease it open. “You taste like heaven. There are no other words for how good you taste,” she moans. I am living for her reactions. “Ohhhhhhhhhh~~~~~~” she whimpers. She keeps going until I cum in her mouth. That tongue keeps swirling, making my pussy tingle with desire. I have to grab the sheets for balance, and I drool a little.
Lea POV
This woman tastes so salty and delicious. She certainly tastes better than any man I’ve given head to. But I also want her to taste me, so I stop eating her out and make out with her instead. “Taste your own cum,” I murmur. She does, our tongues intertwining, and then looks at my pussy. “Wanna taste yours, too,” she moans. I lay back, arching my vagina up towards her face. It’s at this moment that someone comes outside. “Oh my god,” she yelps before her lips make contact with my aching, throbbing, needy pussy.
I look up, annoyed, at whoever interrupted my turn at pleasure. “Nathan,” she says. “The fuck is this? Your man is right inside and you’re fucking Hueningkai’s sister? Seriously?” “Yeah, Nathan. I’m sorry, I know he’s your best friend and this is your house, but hey, we got horny, okay. Besides, I need to break up with him anyway, we are better as friends,” she explains quickly. He sighs, running a hand through his hair. “Can’t say I understand, but at least go get a room. Or go in your car. I don’t want him to see this,” he groans. “Yea, Y/N,” I say. “We can go in my car.”
She nods, and Nathan heads back inside, shaking his head. We run to my car and fall into the backseat, me on the bottom so she can eat me out. We’re such switches. She slides her tongue around my thighs, making me shake and whimper with desire and pleasure. “MMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM!” I yelp. Her tongue then dives into my folds, going up and down my clit and sending me to heaven. This lady can use her tongue for fucking sure. She manages to reach up and play with my boobs while doing so, and I grab onto her hair and scream with joy.
Y/N POV
Apparently I know how to pleasure a woman really well, judging by Lea’s reactions. I smirk and keep tasting her until she keens and cums all over my mouth. I grin and lap every drop up, and then swallow. Damn. She tastes like joy. I don’t know, just better than my man ever tasted.
“Do you wanna try scissoring?” she asks shyly, blushing and hiding her face. I nod. “Yes, Lea. Let’s do it.” We then get into position, her on top this time. Our pussies are so hairy and it feels so rough and hot as we thrust and scissor and move in rhythm with each other. Our skin is slapping and our wetness is mixing as our cunts slide and grind against each other. Who knew that two pussies together could feel so exciting, so hot, so new? My stomach explodes with pleasure and soon we’re both cumming everywhere. I lie in her arms, cuddling after the passion ends. She smiles and together we get up, staring into each other’s eyes. “That was hot. Let’s do that again some time,” I say. She smirks. “Hell yea!”
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albinnaux is like a failed griffith from berserk. both of them committed hard to childhood dreams beyond the reasonable point where everyone else would have given up and albinnaux did eventually give up but not before costing him almost all that he'd worked for. and like asogi kazuma, determination made things worse but continuing past the point where they should have tried another approach and its only after he gave up that things got better.
I was talking about how shipping does not come naturally to me. i don't see any character in a romantic or sexual light until im externally exposed to it, its just not the default. long term exposure or the work works hard to convince me, thats usually what it takes. The only ffxiv ocs that are in relationships are the ones where the core concept im exploring is the relationship itself like noyu and lau or cynng and maud, otherwise while i conceptually know most of them have dated in the past like mathilde or cookie or yvontel i can only really think about it in the vaguest sense unless i put a lot of effort into it.
at which point reversalsun said "I think you should ship alby with Jannequinard" and that caused me so much psychic damage that my brain went into overdrive for like 20 minutes. i love janne he's one of my favorites, what a pathetic man, but he's... yeah.
albinnaux likes competence and janne is ... the exact sort of useless noble brat albinnaux thinks is the scourge of ishgard. also you know they know each other right? its like seeing that idiot you knew in middle school and he's still an idiot. oof yeah im struggling you picked pretty good opposites the one similarity is that neither are traditionalists although albinnaux pretended or at least gave plausible deniability while in ishgard. does he even like men??? i can say that pre arr albi would hesitate being seen with janne because of the possible reputation hit by associating with an eccentric slut. reputation would also be why he never befriended haurchefant. stephanivien's high status makes it less risky. he'd probably like laniaitte actually if privately thinking her not ambitious enough. also in my first draft janne and albi are first cousins. i like half ditched the house durendaire idea though so idk where that stands. this fact i only remembered because i thought about how funny it would be for albinnaux and carvellain to meet in limsa. i originally made albinnaux a durendaire because i thought it would be funny and also for the family drama. but as i build his story i realized i would make more sense for him not to be from the big 4.
of the npcs albinnaux would most likely date minfilia. she's someone who believed in him at his lowest (patch 2.5?) so it was the right time and place. and i think their personalities are pretty compatible. with albinnaux you need someone who can bend and give to meet him but will also hold their ground when its important. albinnaux is cold on the surface and runs hot deep underneath. minfilia has a mild demeanor and strong convictions so i think she'd be able to meet him where he is. like when albinnaux isnt playing nice to cosy up to someone in power his natural demeanor is a little prickly and not a lot of people can handle it which is why he often hides it. as much as he's been burned and embittered albinnaux has also had a strong moral core so he attracted to people with strong morals and ideals who care about things like justice and the greater good. more generally because of his repeated failures he admires people with strong convictions and high competency. he would never admit any of this. and then on a personal note j just dont really like age gap romances so unless its for a specific purpose i'll usually chose people in the same age range. oh yeah and narratively i wanted albinnaux to get that little spark of hope before crushing it hahahahaha
i also think discussions of spirituality and religion would be interesting between them. albinnaux was raised orthodox halonic but came to disavow church and religion seeing them as tools to oppress the people and keep the highborn in power. minfilia though is very spiritual and religious she's basically head priest to the hydaelyn cult. and him getting crystal mommy visions and powers is uh an experience. so its the first time he sees faith as a non negative though he isnt about to worship anyone ever. cant remember if i told you but in arr albinnaux sees himself as only the warrior of light and worthless on his own. i find albinnaux and minfilia to have compatible personalities but faith and religion just might be the driving wedge between them. idk how it'd turn out. in arr albinnaux would probably find that devoutness off-putting and is generally wary of any overtly religious person being so used to the inquisitors. that its hydaelyn adds another layer to it since albinnaux all at once feels grateful, jealous/power hungry, and resentful towards hydaelyn. and also the twelve are well known but hydaelyn worship is like that weird side cult thing right?
but there's also the fact that personally i don't find minfilia interesting so im not like excited to think about her. im pretty good at taking my biases into account when evaluating things impartially. which is how i came up with minfilia for an answer but that doesn't mean i like it. i also considered haurchfant who i personally like much better. haurchefant's ... a LOT when the player first meets him and i wonder if that might be different if albinnaux is the wol since they know of each other by reputation if nothing else. "the fortemps bastard" and albinnaux had all sorts of gossip trailing him in ishgard (part of why he snapped) and now he's also a deserter. albinnaux also definitely snubbed/avoided haurchefant as a kid so while albi never directly bullied haurchefant i can see him walking away without helping. of course both are professional enough to work together. if haurchefant had acted like he does in game albinnaux would have wanted to run for the hills but would have grit his teeth because he has a job to do.
rocky starts aside hauchefant like minfilia is also that mix of bending and unbending. he's more easy going than albinnaux but will also hold his ground. he has strong convictions and is someone actively moving towards his goals which albinnaux would be similarly drawn too. i also think there's an interesting mix of albinnaux who's been repressing himself in a lot of ways for years and hauchefant who's one of the least repressed ishgardian we meet (stephanivien is probably the other). i think the biggest stumbling block here is that they are fundamentally oriented towards different things. both acknowledge the injustices of ishgard but with minfilia and albinnaux its ideals first and everything else is to back those up, while haurchefant seems more physically grounded in reality with a keen eye for the here and now.
stephanivien was another consideration. he's such a freak i love him. it helps that he and albinnaux are already good friends. they just get along very well. he's his little funny rabbit. they believe in a lot of the same things too though albinnaux rarely said those things out loud. steph said: guns will make knights obsolete and undermine the power of nobility and albinnaux thought hell yeah finally youre so right bestie. i can see them chatting through the night talking about the future. one thing they'd have to overcome is when albinnaux confronts him about something i can see stephanivien dodging and deflecting where albi would have preferred to be met head on. i can also see steph being a little too much to deal with if albinnaux is feeling tired or grumpy. whether he says it or not is another thing but albinnaux really admires stephanivien for being unabashedly himself and wholeheartedly pursuing his own interests and ignoring the expectations for high house sons. albinnaux tried to have both and ended up not achieving either which is something that pains him so seeing steph is like looking into the sun.
this was very challenging since by default i mostly think of these as platonic, but i guess they could work as romantic. oh and there's no conclusion to this or anything its just a thought experiments. shame that i think about 100 faster than i type. and writing things out is such a pain so it usually doesn't happen.
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If I’m being honest I think a lot about doing things with men, especially lonely or pathetic men that I find cute. When they’re lonely they just eat you up. Even if it’s for your body, when you don’t have an amazing body that could be described as the Pillsbury doughboy you feel even better, like “oh I can be found attractive even when I’m not taking care of myself they must all love me!” Which isn’t the case, I’m mid and a better than their hand. This is so embarrassing to admit because i have a boyfriend who loves me beyond compare and he isn’t awful in bed but how would I compare have been dating somebody for years and they’re the first and only person you’ve ever had sex with and even though you’re fine with the sex you want more. I want to be praised by many handsome men, I wanna be worshipped and loved. I’m rarely ever horny but when I am it’s so stupidly aggressive. It clouds my mind and all I can think of is men who crave me and smell lovely and treat me with a firm grip. I want to be talked to when I have sex, I want to be told what I am to them. I need it it’s all I want. I want a man who can take me places and whisper sweet nothings and get me flustered from almost nothing.
I love my boyfriend but I want more!!
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wine: ingredient 44 + sugar 7 + spice 12 for gojo satoru *slams table* thank you for feeding us kind maam
for sukirichi’s milestone event:
the meal order : 🍷 + 44 (hate sex au) + 7 (forbidden relationship) + 12 (praising kink) your dinner has been served! also bruh LOL you’re a choso simp this is hilarious spspsps
— who are you to deny him when he only wants to worship you?
gojo satoru x fem! reader
contents/warnings: nsfw, slight angst, reader is hot girl shit, gojo long schlong, hate sex, car sex, spanking, riding gojo, slight angst, praising kink taken to a DIFFERENT LEVEL (i want to make people question the extent of their praising kink), body marking, rough sex lol it’s always rough in my stories, unedited
Your friends pushed you out of the club, all of you laughing, hands clutched around your waists as loud, drunken giggles fill in the night air. It was a wild night; your friends invited you to the club to take your mind off your stupid boyfriend. You thought you’d end up moping around, too much of a buzzkill to ever let loose because it wasn’t that easy to stop thinking about him, but even you were surprised when you started grinding with people on the dance floor just three drinks later.
The gals were more than delighted to see you enjoying your night, only dragging you out the club when you nearly shoved your tongue down another man’s throat.
Scratch that – your friends called you to hang out because you lied about having a shitty day at work. You’ve had your fair share of shitty days, but you were one of the most prominent lawyers in your firm, no one dared gave you a bad day. Your subordinates knew that if they even looked your way without your permission, you wouldn’t hesitate to dump paperwork on them, or assign them to the nastiest cases just to piss them off.
Yeah, you were sort of a bitch, but you didn’t care.
It took a lot to get where you were now. It wasn’t easy to be a woman in a male-dominated workplace and you were forced to strip your softness off, replacing it with hard armor and sharp tongue concealed under bold red lips, a tight pencil skirt that accentuated your curves, and a pair of black suede pumps.
You deserved all your success. You were smart, stunning, confident, powerful – so then why did you feel like shit around your shitty boyfriend?
The answer was loud and clear. It bothered you to no end that he wanted to keep your relationship a secret because his family was too different from yours, coming up with a shitty excuse that you were just “too different.” He never bothered explaining, and every time you confronted him about, he’d only wave his hand, distract you with those delicious and soft lips of his until you forget it over and over again.
You were okay with it at first. It wasn’t a really serious relationship; you only started dating him because you saw yourself a lot in him – confident, self-assured, maybe even a little cocky – plus, he was extremely attractive.
But the longer you spent time with him, you were beginning to fall in love.
Yes, you, the ice princess of one of the most respected law firms all over the city was beginning to soften up at a certain blue-eyed man who had magical hands.
But tonight – tonight you’d forget about him.
Your stomach was heavy with expensive liquor and you were nearly staggering on your knees, the only thing preventing you from falling were your more sober friends. The others were holding you close to keep you upright, while one of your friends moved to a quieter part of the block to call an Uber for you. Your friends were all happily married, some with children, so they couldn’t really stay out too late at night and chaperone you all the way back home.
You were well-aware you were being a bother, but fuck, couldn’t you lean on someone for just once? Sighing, you leaned closer to your warm friend, mumbling something about wanting to forget about everything you’ve been through.
“There, there,” she patted your head comfortingly, “You’ll be fine, babe, you’re a strong woman. I know you’ll get through this.”
“But I hate it,” you drunkenly admitted, lips trembling the more you thought about him, every stupid little thing about him – his soft white hair, those pretty blue eyes he always hid under shades even at night, his large, calloused hands that always felt so rough when keeping your legs open for him and you couldn’t even start talking about his cock, he was just so blessed and perfect in every little thing that you hated it. You hated him. “I don’t like this feeling,” you sniffled, “I feel like I’m being looked down on, that I’m being pushed to the side. I feel unimportant, like I’m not good enough.”
“Who said you aren’t?”
You froze in your friend’s arms, eyes meeting with those blue ones you could never get enough of. As if noticing your silence, your friend immediately covers you with her arm, glaring at your boyfriend. “Do we know you or something?”
“No,” Satoru replies coolly, brows furrowed in the state you were in. You turned away from him with a scoff, arms crossed on your chest. Why did he have to be here out of all places? Wasn’t he busy with work or whatever family shit he apparently couldn’t tell you about even though you’ve both been dating for a year and a half now? He just wasn’t giving you a break, and the hairs on your arm stood up when he said, “Not that you have to, but may I please drive Y/N home?”
“She’s not going anywhere—”
“She’s a friend of mine,” he insisted, turning to you with a pleading look in his eyes. You almost melted. Almost. “I need to talk to her about something.”
You rolled your eyes and stepped forward, your friend’s arm latching onto yours. You could tell she was worried from the way her gaze darted back and forth between you two. Satoru was, after all, clearly uninvited, and he didn’t seem like your type either. You always insisted you preferred refined man, men like his friend Nanami Kento, but alas, you were stuck dating this one instead.
“It’s fine,” you told her with a fake smile, “I’ll call you later when I get home.”
You never got to call her – simply because you didn’t make it home. The moment Satoru closed the car doors behind you, you both got into a heated argument. Satoru hated silences and always made sure the car was filled with music, but this time, he didn’t notice there weren’t any songs when you opened your mouth.
Maybe it was the alcohol, or maybe it was the anger and pent-up tension of not being able to hold him and kiss him in public like normal couples did, in addition to the fact Satoru never explained why he insisted on keeping you a secret – whatever it was, you just snapped.
“I don’t even understand why I’m still dating you!” you huffed, legs crossed on top of the other as you gazed out the window. Lips trembling, you tried so hard to not cry, especially not in front of the man who was breaking your heart. “This is hardly a relationship when I’m not free to call or text you as you please, when I can’t go out with you on dates and we’re always hanging in my apartment. I’m your girlfriend, Satoru, we’ve been together for a long time but I honestly don’t even feel like it. What the hell are we dating for then?”
Satoru clenched his teeth, his grip on the steering wheel tightening. “How many times do I have to tell you that I love you,” he said coolly, acting unbothered and unaffected as ever, but the clench in his jaw said otherwise. “If that’s not enough—”
“Of course it’s not enough!”
“I’m trying here too, okay?” Satoru slammed on the brakes and parked on a desolated spot, hands running through his hair while he breathed heavily. Once he’d calmed down, he shook his head, refusing to look you in the eye like a man. “I’m trying my best. It’s just hard. It isn’t as easy as it looks.”
“What isn’t easy as it looks? Dating me? Letting the whole world know I’m yours?” when Satoru didn’t respond, you scoffed, patience running low and thin. “You’re pathetic, Satoru. Dating you was the stupidest thing I’ve ever done, and I thought I was a smart woman.”
With a shake of your head, you slung your purse over your shoulder and reached for the car door. You were about to leave when Satoru suddenly pulled you towards him, his lips slamming into yours. Like always, you fell into his trap, into the blissful pleasure that was his lips and his hands, and you hated it, hated him, hated him so fucking much because you were so tired of his entire existence.
You wanted to let him know he was insufferable.
You wanted him to feel the pain and misery he put you through.
“I fucking hate you,” you snarled as Satoru kept fucking into you, the entire car windows fogged and the vehicle shaking. “I wish I never met you, you asshole,” Satoru, displeased, only buries himself deeper into you, as if they would erase his mistakes and shortcomings.
Satoru’s large hands snake to your waist and onto your breasts, expertly tweaking them between his fingers. Your head fell back to the crook of his shoulder, your back pressed against his hard chest as Satoru trapped you in his strong arms, impaling you on his cock over and over again. “You’re lying,” he whispered into your neck, tongue and teeth playfully sucking at the tender flesh. His grip on your hip was bruising and possessive, and your breasts bounced fervently at how he snapped his hips upwards to feel your walls coat him and hug him tightly and warmly. “Why would you hate me, sweet girl? Don’t I always make you feel good? Don’t I remind you enough that you’re the best fucking thing ever?”
You didn’t respond right away, your breath taken away with how you could never get enough of this, of him. He was right no matter how much you denied it. Despite being terrible in everything else, Satoru knew and respected you, even admired your dominance and intelligence when other men were intimidated by it.
No, he worshipped you. He made you feel like you were a divine goddess when he tugged at your hair to tilt your cheek to him, his tongue slithering to your lips to taste himself on his tongue from when you previously busted his nut with just your mouth.
Lipsticks smeared on his cheeks and crescent moons on his pale thigh from your nails, Satoru looked wonderful beneath you like this.
He was beautiful, so damn beautiful, but it didn’t change the fact he’d put you through hell these past few weeks.
No, it wasn’t just the past few weeks. Things were always complicated with him. He was perfect in everything else but when it came to you, he made it a mission to hide you and your relationship, changing your contact name to a totally random one “just in case.”
Your mind was confuzzled and you felt like you were on the urge of breaking apart from both his ministrations and his confusing treatment over you. Before you knew it, you were kissing him back fervently with the intensity of your hatred over this man.
Your hand reached his to guide it to rub at your clit, and Satoru, eager to make you feel good as always, happily obliged. Satoru kept bouncing you on his cock until you were too overwhelmed to speak, crying and mumbling incomprehensible words.
Him, only him, would ever have the ability to let the sharp-tongued and intelligent woman who never bat an eye in court lose her wide vocabulary, falling apart in his arms while his long length abused your puffy lips.
“You made me feel like shit,” you finally admitted, tugging at his hair until Satoru is lowly groaning at the slight sting. But did you care? Of course you didn’t. You wanted to hurt him too.
“How so, sweet girl?”
“I can never have you the way I want,” you answered through gritted teeth, moaning out when Satoru suddenly thrusted too deep, hitting your most sensitive spot that had you quivering in his hold. “You don’t—” you gasped, “You don’t understand what I feel, how you make me feel like I’m never good enough for you. That’s the reason why you don’t want anyone else knowing, right? ‘Cause I’m not good enough for you, never gonna be good—”
Satoru didn’t let you finish your words, shutting you up with his cock instead. The vehicle shook uncontrollably with your mating sessions, and Satoru silences you by pulling at your leg to press it on his chest instead.
The sudden switch in positions had your muscles tensing and stretching, adding only to both your pleasures with the new thrown in factor of slight pain. You felt Satoru kiss your neck down to your shoulders, scraping his canines until you were absolutely lost. You gave in, you gave up, head lolling back next to his loving lips that murmured sweet nothings.
“Not true, sweet girl,” he reminded you, flattening you on his cock and making you roll your hips while you slid up and down his pole sensually. Unlike the previous pace, the slow sensation of your pussy hugging his cock with your arousal letting him slide in easily allowed you to feel every part of him, almost mind-wrecking at how good he’s able to make you feel even after such a long time of having him already.
“You’re the sexiest and most intelligent woman I’ve ever met, the best, the absolute blessing of my life, and I just want to protect you, sweet girl. You’re too precious for me to lose,” Satoru kept mumbling over and over again.
You could no longer process his words functionally, not when he’s slamming you down his length like that and burying himself in you as if he didn’t want to be anywhere else.
Satoru’s hands were still curious, appreciative and gentle as he runs his hands, dipping into all your curves and pressing into your most sensitive spots the way you liked it.
“You’re always so good for me so no, sweet girl, never gonna let you go, not when you’re so perfect for me,” Satoru eased your worries – temporarily – with his words, and you’d believe his lie, you’d fall into the same mistakes over and over again because you were just that weak and powerless when it came to him. “You’re made just for me, sweet girl, you’re the prettiest and your pussy is the prettiest – I worship you, I adore you. You’re so divine.”
You blamed it all on your ego.
He praised you so well, made you feel so good and always placed you on top of the world when he’s inside you like this. Even if you knew he’d knock you down the pedestal just hours later, you opened your doors for him all over again.
Satoru knew this too, because he rammed inside your walls and ruined everything that you held firm beliefs in, his large hands smacking your ass to urge you to bounce on him like you weren’t made for any other purpose than to be the woman he adored.
You lied to yourself – you always did – but did you care? So what if you couldn’t be the one he really loved? What did it all matter when you were the one he worshipped?
For the sake of the praise and the compliments, you’d let him fuck you and play with your heart over and over again. It was a toxic routine you’d never get tired of, and you no longer complained, forgetting about everything he’d done and every heartbreak he caused you because he was there, whispering into your ears how good you made him feel and how you were the only one made to take him, and you didn’t care. Not anymore – not when you were worshipped.
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