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ramp-it-up · 5 months ago

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Cassandra’s Muse

Summary: Your job is to distract and read all who dare to go against Cassandra. And you take pride in your work

Word count: 2.5 K

Pairing: Deadpool x Reader; Wolverine x Reader; Johnny Storm x Reader; Deadpool x Wolverine x Johnny Storm x Empath Reader

Warnings: 18+ Only, Minors DNI. S MUT Not Beta’d. DEADPOOL X WOLVERINE SPOILERS AHEAD of this line!Read at your own risk. S MUT! Morally Grey reader, sex worker reader, reader is an empath, lots of dark emotions, group sex, oral (m & f receiving) pansexual touch and intentions (it's Deadpool, folks) explicit sex acts, raw p in v (wrap it up), anal sex (f receiving) rough sex, dvp, squirting, copius amounts of cum, bukakke, after care. Reader has pet names from each hero: Sweets, Sweetie, Sweetheart.

A/N: Ok. I had to do it. If you inspired this, you know who you are, you menace. 😘 This occurs within an imagined scene between the scene where Pyro captures Johnny, Wade and Logan and when they were delivered to Cassandra Nova. This is pure filth. Let me know you like it by liking, commenting and reblogging!

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I Do NOT Consent to my work being reposted, translated or presented on any other blog or site other than by myself.

————

“Let me put your hair up for you. So pretty.”

Wade Wilson cooed down at you to the music of his shackles clinking as he gently pulled your cloud of hair up and out of the way.

“Need to have a clear view of you hoovering that anaconda.”

Your lips were stretched around Johnny Storm’s thick, tan cock as his blue eyes stared down at you and a steam of eloquent pornography flowed from his lips.

“Mm. That throat is so gatdamn tight Sweetheart. Can’t wait to fuck that tight little wet gash of yours. Holy shit, that’s good. I know you can take it deeper. I know you can. Such a sweet little innocent slut for us.”

He had no idea. You were in service to Cassandra. She called you her muse, a tool to service her future victims so that when she felt their minds up, she had something more to get off on. You were her little slut, her psychic empath who fed off of other’s joy and you loved your job.

Giving others joy got you off something fierce. The fact that Cassandra loved it and that kept you alive was an added bonus.

Johnny’s hand snaked around the back of your neck to encourage you to take more of him. You looked up at him, eyes wide with tears streaming down your cheeks, while saliva escaped from your stretched-out lips.

“So pretty for us like this, Sweetie.”

Wade’s mask almost seemed to be emotive as he looked down on you, his long fingers fisting his cock with increasing speed as he watched you take Johnny down. It was disconcerting that he was completely naked except for his mask, but that was none of your business. He was sincere, despite the sarcastic monologue.

“I’ve always wanted to say that in real life and not just in my 1D/Destial crossover fanfics on Tumblr. Username is MrsLarryDestiel (no spaces) if you want to follow.”

Wade was leaning over to Johnny, who had steam rising from his head as he gazed down at you with devotion. You felt his amusement at this entire scenario. You tried to smile back around him, even though you knew his affection was only due to your skill.

After all, you’d just met him less than an hour earlier.

“Get your hand off my ass before I burn it off, Wade.”

“Was just trying to help you push it in her tiny little mouth. Wasn’t trying to cop a feel of what looks a lot like America’s Ass, not really,” quipped Wade who was stroking and looking down at Johnny’s derriere.

Before anyone got injured, you pulled off of the hot one’s dick and licked Wade’s thick plum shaped tip.

“Sssss. Ahhhh, yes!”

Wade groaned and threw his head back.

“Suck that dick like your life depends on it, Sweetie. It may be our very last night on earth. I mean, in the void.”

You sensed no fear in Wade, only irreverence.

You followed his direction and opened wide as he slid his long, thick, Deadpool dick along your outstretched tongue. Wade was still talking, of course, even as he made eyes at Logan, who was lurking on the edges of the light, pulling on his dick with two hands and making low, almost indiscernible grunts.

Now there were about a thousand different emotions coming off him, irritation, rage, despair, grief, a deep sadness, and foremost right now, need and frustration. You tried to watch him through your tear-filled eyes.

Wade and Johnny took turns with your mouth as Logan just moved nearer, his large, impressive cock raging against those impossible abs. His stare, and his body, made you drip even more in the dirt floor of the cave they were captive in for the night.

You needed him inside you, to at least extinguish his need. But yours was growing too.

“Why don’t you relax over there while we get her ready, Mr. Grumpy Pants. Little Miss Triple Threat looks like she’s almost ready to take three cocks at once in all of her holes.”

The Wolverine grunted, but went to a spot just a few feet away and reclined against a cave wall as he continued to handle himself.

Wade looked down at you and stroked your hair again, stage whispering to you as you deep throated Johnny’s cock down your throat.

“I know he seems like a party pooper and not down for this at all, but the fact that his beautiful meat is hard and leaking precum, which is delicious, bee tee dubs, oh, AND HE'S NAKED, means he definitely is.”

You smiled around the dick in your mouth and nodded as you pulled off Johnny, a string of saliva connecting you three as Wade grabbed you by the hair and plunged down your throat, barely giving you time to take a breath.

As you choked, you could see Logan jacking off faster from the corner of your eye as you swallowed Wade whole. Even with the mask, you could tell when his eyes rolled back into his head as you took every single inch.

“Get over here and sit on my dick.”

You were surprised at Logan’s voice, not having heard much of it during his ride in the cage, except to tell Wade and Johnny to shut up. Currently, his tone was more intense and raspy with desire.

You did as you were told and the action moved from the fireside to where Logan was reclining.

“Move the fuck around, asshole.”

Wade stomped his foot.

“That’s what I’m trying to give you, Wolvie, baby.”

But he moved from in front of you so that you could take your throne.

“C’mere.”

Logan reached up for you, the tender gesture a contrast for the crude situation you are in: fucking these men because it was the last night of their lives, which it almost surely was. You knew when Pyro let you into the cave halfway to her lair where they stopped for the night that no one escaped Cassandra.

You almost felt sorry for them. But when you read their emotions, you sensed no fear in these heroes. Only a myriad of other things including pent up tension, stress and desire for you. And for freedom. Or at least the sensation of being free.

Fucking all three of them would free your own soul, if only for the short time you would spend with them. They were all fine, and they looked like they would be a good time. If they only knew that your purpose was distraction, to keep them busy and not trying to escape.

If you searched their emotions hard enough you might find that they knew what you were about, and that they didn't care.

You accepted the offer of Logan’s hands and settled on his muscular thighs, glancing at the other men stroking themselves by firelight to the sight of you stretching yourself around the thick head of Logan Howlett, the Wolverine’s, cock.

Their attention only made you wetter and you slid further down Logan’s thick staff than you thought you could. When Johnny and Wade each grabbed a nipple as you whined and got even slicker the sensations allowed you to encase that extra inch at the base of him.

You were so full, not having been stretched like this in a while with a human, visually pleasing partner in a long time. You moaned in pleasure and closed your eyes, biting your lip at the delicious sting of taking him.

Logan looked up into your eyes and then commanded you with that deep, sexy voice.

“Open your eyes, look at us, and bounce on this cock Sweets.”

The smack on your ass spurred you on as Johnny leaned against the wall, watching your tits bounce as he jacked himself, and Wade got behind you, straddling Logan's thighs and rubbing them. You thought you knew what was coming next as you felt Wade’s hot breath on your shoulder as his hard length slid through your slick folds. But you were surprised as he entered you, although not in the hole you expected.

Within a few seconds, Wade was nestled deep within your cunt, cock alongside Logan’s in your snug sleeve, making you mad with pleasure. An obscene groan from you accompanied Logan’s warning to Deadpool.

“Watch it fuck face.”

Loan’s voice was husky, and there was a glimmer of a smirk as he grasped your breasts, roughly pulling on your nipples. Fear of his claws coming out and injuring you caused the contractions of pleasure in your belly to quicken, even as Wade sassed him back.

“You can fuck my face later buddy. Right now, let’s both concentrate on fucking this beautiful, nice, accommodating lady’s beautiful, nice accommodating cunt..”

The two men fell into an oddly synchronistic, sinful rhythm, both of them filling you to the brim in the best way possible, sexy groans finally replacing the smart words coming from Wade and literal grunts and groans coming from Logan.

Johnny moved, filling your mouth and causing your moans to vibrate around his shaft as Logan and Wade fucked you stupid.

“Holy fuck!”

Johnny rasped as you started sucking his balls, your legs shaking as Logan and Wade pounded you into oblivion. You feel a tremendous pressure and you tried to run from what was coming, but Wade’s fingers were circling your clit and Logan’s hands are around your waist, his mouth latched onto your left nipple. That and the feeling of Johnny’s fingers massaging your scalp collided to make your impending doom come much more quickly.

You pulled off of Johnny's unit to scream.

“Oh shit, oh shit, ohhhhhh shitttttt, I- I- I- I’m cummingggg!”

“Holy shit, she's gushing like Old Faithful all around us!”

You soaked Logan as you squirted, seemingly never endingly, all over. everywhere. Wade slipped out of you and so did Logan, but instead of giving someone else a turn with your pussy, Logan growled in your hair and pitched you forward onto his chest with his hands underneath your thighs.

“Want that ass.”

You clenched around nothing as Logan lifted you up and squeezed your ass cheek in order to give his hard, thick cock access to your puckered hole. You were so wet that he kept slipping around until you felt Wade reach in and grab Logan’s dick, pumping it a couple of times before guiding it home inside your tight ass.

You saw the sneer, and you heard the ‘schnick’ of Logan’s claws coming out and Wade’s giggle as he explained.

“Just trying to help with the mission, Boss.”

You didn’t care about any of it as your head lolled back on your shoulders because Logan was filling you up deliciously.

Wade retreated and pulled his mask up to lick his fingers. He and Johnny resumed stroking as they watched Logan pounding you mercilessly from below, your cum making it embarrassingly easy. You locked eyes with him, and grabbed the tufts on top of his hair for purchase as you screamed and came again, just from his cock in your ass.

"Ahhhhh! Shittttt!"

“Mmmmnhhh! Incoming, Sweets”

Logan’s cum spurted inside you and began to leak out around his cock, making you even messier than before.

“Ugh. Fuck. So good.”

He kissed your forehead as he softened inside you, then lifted your thigh to slide out from underneath you. You braced yourself on the wall as you tried to catch your breath and savored the feeling of him dripping down your legs and the peace, if only momentary, emanating from his soul. You didn’t realize that your eyes were closed until you felt a new desperation accompanied by a hand on your arm and two hands on your ass.

“Don’t usually go for sloppy seconds, but I’ll take it tonight.”

Johnny’s sparkling blue eyes and sincerity held you captive. His tender kiss on your lips distracted you as you felt Wade’s hands on your ass and you lowered yourself down around Johnny’s long cock.

Johnny slipped easily inside you because Wade and Logan had stretched you out, but he was so hot, literally, that you quickly clenched down on him. Your hands caressed his shoulders and trailed down his sternum and his happy trail to where you were connected.

The way he looked at you from under his long eyelashes made you want to give him a show. You bit your lip and circled your clit, earning a groan and an appreciative stare from him as you started to ride.

You sensed a sudden a wave of mischievousness from Wade and felt his tongue in our ass. He moaned, sending vibrations up your spine as he caused you to clench around his wet muscle and Johnny’s cock. He slurped you up, and pulled away momentarily to come up and whisper in your ear.

“Mmmm. You and Logan taste so good. You’re doing amazing, Sweetie.

He was down again and licking you clean, causing irritation to emanate from Johnny.

“I’m tryna cum, here, Wilson. Stop licking my balls, you jerkoff.”

Wade came up and wiped his mouth.

“So sorry, that was a total mistake. Didn’t mean to touch your huge, full, sexy balls with my velvet tongue. Not at all, Johnny.”

“Shut the fuck up, I’m trying to concentrate on this Sweetheart right. Here.”

Johnny kicked Wade away, stroked upward to make you moan, and then grabbed you by the neck as he flipped you over onto your back, grasping your thighs and folded you in half like a pretzel.

“You ready to take this hot cock?”

You nodded enthusiastically as Johnny Storm began to fuck you relentlessly, his long cock reaching that magic spot inside you as you tightened around him, much to your chagrin.

It was going to be over too soon. You wanted him to use you longer.

“Mmmmph, Darlin’ I feel you, still so tight around me even after these two knuckle heads fucked your cunt silly. Should be loose, but damn, girl. C’mon. Cum for me like you did for Wolverine and Wade. Gimme that shit.”

Johnny reached down and strummed your clit, as Wade came and held your legs in place, his oddly beautiful cock hard against his abdomen. You stretched your neck and teabagged him, earning a choked, garbled moan, and no words from him.

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Logan standing over you and stroking his hard-for-you-again dick.

“Shit, shit, sheeeeiiittttttttt this pussy is so good. Fuck!”

Johnny pulled out and stood over your body as you scrambled up on your knees to open your mouth for your reward. The men gathered around you as first Johnny spurted white, hot cum all over your face, then Logan jerked on your tits, rubbing his bulbous tip all over your nipples, and Wade just sprayed everywhere as he watched the show.

You collapsed on your knees, wiping your face as strong arms lifted you up and took you to the other side of the cave and started washing you off with a bucket of water that had been warming by the fire. You looked up into Logan’s eyes and he avoided your gaze, concentrating on getting the cum out of your hair.

“You can rest now. We’ll cook up this bird that Pyro threw in here for food and you can sleep for a while.”

You sensed genuine tenderness, and another spark of a future need within him. You knew that they would wake you up for more than food later.

And you were more than okay with that.

So you just smiled at him as his hand trailed the water down your body, this moment a respite for all of you, in the chaos of Cassandra’s world.

——

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kingkat12 · 5 months ago

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seven minutes in heaven (roman godfrey x reader)

WARNINGS: foul language, alcohol, book-accurate Roman lol, (and he is such a brat???)

summary: you really, really hate Roman Godfrey. but what you hate most, is that he doesn't notice you at all.

word count: 4,502

PART 1, PART 2, PART 3, PART 4, PART 5, PART 6, PART 7, PART 8, PART 9, PART 10

I didn't like Roman Godfrey— not one bit.

Everything about that spoiled brat was infuriating. All from the way he walked around as though he owned the town, to the way that he'd get a kick out of throwing tater tots at people. Fucking child. The amount of times I'd sat at the bleachers and watched him throw it at the cheerleaders, specifically aiming right down their shirts, made my blood boil.

Roman Godfrey believed that the world was his, including the people living in it. That's exactly why he dared to take such liberties.

I specifically hated the way he'd move his hair out of his green, green eyes, the look he'd give me after he tugged my hair in the hallway with a sneer, and his sadistic need to claim his conquests in the absolute weirdest ways known to man. If we are to believe Brooke Bluebell from the cheerleading team, he also had an affinity for poking girls with needles in public just for the sheer thrill of watching them squeal. Because who would tell him off, right? I wondered if he was familiar with the word 'no' at all.

After the needle-rumour spread, I made sure to keep a few meters between us at all times. There was no way in hell that he would get away with doing that to me, anyway.

And I would've stayed as far away from Roman as possible, had it been up to me. Sadly, my best friend at school was his cousin— just my luck. Letha, like the rest of the girls at school, was quite fond of Roman; since she was the oldest of the two, she somehow couldn't see that he had grown past the age of five, treating him as though he could do no wrong.

And this was why Roman was always invited whenever we would have study sessions at Letha's place. He would splay himself out on the bed, stretching out his long limbs, watching us as we worked and he lazed away.

God, how I hated him. I hated the way his hair was kissing his forehead when he laid like this in Letha's bed, the way he'd grin whenever he watched me erase a wrong answer, and the way his cologne would linger in my system several hours after he'd left.

Currently, we were supposed to be working on the half-year assignment everyone in our year had to do. Letha was sitting at her desk with her back turned to us as Roman and I sat on the bed, each with our own computer. My meter-rule to protect myself from any incoming needles was impossible to implement on Letha's tiny bed, and I let out a huff as Roman's knee touched mine. I prayed to every God in the universe that he didn't have a needle in his pockets somewhere— I was quite fond of my knees, and would very much like to keep them intact.

"Five hundred bucks," Roman tried, nudging me. "Do this assignment for me and it's yours."

I rolled my eyes, shifting further away from him on the bed. "Do your own shit,"

He proceeded to sneer, watching me with his big, green eyes. "Six hundred,"

"No,"

"Seven?"

"Suck it, Roman," I cracked my knuckles, doing my best to get back into the flow of writing the assignment. It was so damn hard to focus when Roman's incessant sighing continued, almost as though he was being forced to take his own life.

"Help me, then," he mumbled, moving closer to me. His leg was almost on top of mine, now. "How did you answer question b?" Roman leaned over me, his head now obstructing my view of my screen. In a flash of pure instincts, I closed my eyes, inhaling the scent of his hair that was tickling my nose. I couldn't quite put my finger on exactly what it was that smelled so good— him or the shampoo?

I got yanked out of my state when Roman pulled away, typing away on his own laptop, finally inspired.

I couldn't help but sigh; I hated Roman. And I hated that he didn't notice me in the way I wanted him to. I hated the way he smiled, the way he'd so blatantly flirt with girls at any opportunity he'd get, and how my heart fluttered when he flirted with me once in a blue moon.

It only got worse when we were in chemistry class the next day, and Roman had caught me sitting all alone in the back. I wasn't sure what came over me and why I had allowed him to sit down next to me again— the last time had been an absolute catastrophe where he got the both of us kicked out for bickering too loudly, so I hoped it wouldn't be a repeat-situation. I really needed to make sure I was getting every drop of information out of class today, as we had a test coming up soon.

However, Roman was the absolute biggest distraction on earth. I knew this. He kept leaning over to draw crude drawings in my book, making me have to swat his hand away over and over; "Stop it!"

Roman huffed, leaning back against his chair with a bored expression on his face. "You're no fun," he whispered back.

And this was when it hit me— maybe I wasn't fun? Did he really think that of me?

... Maybe it was time to show him how fun I could be?

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

When Letha mentioned a party happening this weekend and the fact that Roman would be joining, I couldn't help but feel a certain sense of dread— I knew what that would entail for him. He'd either disappear with a girl upstairs and/or get absolutely shitfaced, as always. And was I really going to put myself through seeing him disappear with someone else again just to prove I wasn't boring?

Yes— Yes, I was.

As I sipped my drink, I couldn't help but feel my hatred for Roman simmer and come to a boil— I hated how he had me doing the most ridiculous things known to man just to get a sliver of his attention. Why was a question I couldn't bring myself to answer.

As I stood in the kitchen with Letha, I spotted Roman passing by the door, laughing with a friend of his. My heart thumped hard as I let out a shaky breath; "Letha, I have to tell you something,"

She turned to me, a beer in her hand. "Don't tell me you've killed someone again? I don't have the energy to drag another body out of my car today,"

"Ha-ha," I mumbled; had this been any other instance, I would've thought it was funny... but not right before I was about to tell her why I had come tonight. I dreaded it; I knew she'd disapprove. But just as I opened my mouth, ready to put my friendship on the line, I caught Roman backtracking and appearing in the door again.

"Girls!" He walked over, looking tipsy as ever. Up close like this, Roman towered over the both of us, and I had to look up an unusual amount to meet his eyes. "I've been looking for you all over! They're playing seven minutes in heaven downstairs, wanna join?"

Had this been any other night, I would've given him an immediate no— but tonight was different. Tonight, I was fun. Shrugging, I glanced over at Letha to check her reaction.

"That's so childish," Letha mumbled, sipping her beer. "I don't know, and I'm sure grumpy over here isn't too keen on that either—"

"No, I'm in!" My words came out like a panicked squeal which immediately made my cheeks burn.

Roman seemed caught off guard by my reaction, but he eventually reached out to pat my shoulder, looking smug as ever. "There you go," he cooed, clearly teasing me. "Maybe you'll finally get laid or something!"

I was abruptly reminded of why I hated him so much in the first place. Swatting his hand off of me, I brushed my fingers over my shoulder where he had touched me, feeling a lingering burn. "If you think seven minutes is enough for everything that goes into sex, I think you need to lower that ego of yours,"

Letha bit back a smirk as Roman's lips parted in shock. Maybe the spoiled rich kid hadn't gotten a reality-check from his long list of women before? He eventually recovered from the diss, rolling his eyes; "Well, seven minutes with me can be more than enough. Need me to show you?"

Letha let out a loud snort, shuddering; "Ew, Roman! I've told you not to talk to my friends like that!"

As they turned to each other, bickering like siblings, I gripped the counter behind me with all my strength. I was almost compelled to agree, to say yes to letting him have a go, and I had to bite down on my tongue to stop myself. After a few drinks, I knew I could get a little loose-lipped.

It didn't take long before we all made it downstairs, everyone spreading out on the couches and chairs scattered in the basement. Letha and I sat down on a few pillows on the floor, far away from Roman and his rumoured needles.

I felt my throat go dry every time the bottle spun around, landing on random people from school who later went into the empty closet nearby. But my attention was elsewhere; I watched as Roman put his arm around the girl next to him, whispering something into her ear which made her laugh. It made me want to slam my head into the wall behind me— I would rather pass out and bleed out than witness him picking up another girl again.

I swallowed hard as the people in the closet came back out and the bottle got spun again. The first person was picked; a girl with long, brown hair whom I remembered from history class; huge bitch. Holding my breath, I watched as the bottle got spun again— it eventually slowed down and pointed to Roman, which made the girl's friend group cheer as though they had won a million dollars. It felt like my heart was getting ripped out of my chest as Roman got up from the couch, grinning from ear to ear. The girl he had just had his arm around wasn't as happy, to say the least.

This whole display was making me sick. I bit the inside of my cheek as Roman closed the door to the closet and the previous drinks in my system threatened to come up. Everything about this was making me sick. I got up, taking hurried steps to the nearest bathroom, planting myself on my knees in front of the toilet just in case.

I heard a few knocks on the door before Letha stepped in, looking worried. "I told you not to drink that vodka crap," she mumbled, locking the door before she sat down next to me on the floor.

I felt my tears press on as I grew further nauseous. "Don't mind me," I breathed. "I just need a minute."

This only solidified my absolute and utter hate for Roman. Spoiled fucking brat— why did he have to make me feel this way? Why was my jealousy making me so sick and bitter?

Letha put her hand on my back in an attempt to soothe me; "Maybe I should drive you home?"

"No!" I said, fighting my gag reflex. "I need— I need to get out there again."

This only made Letha sigh, her hand now reaching for my hair to be ready. "You have a crush out there or something...? You know that you don't need this stupid game to get whichever guy you want, right?"

I did my best to get up from the floor without immediately falling back down. Of course she didn't understand.

"Seriously, hold on—" Letha grabbed my hand, holding me back from leaving the bathroom. Her eyes were just as green as Roman's, and up close like this, I could see all their similarities; the upward curve of their nose, the same full lips, and the exact same way of weaving their brows together in worry. "You don't need to do anything just because you want to prove Roman wrong," she said, squeezing my hand. "I know you came down here to make a point, but... do what's best for you, okay?"

"Okay," I mumbled, tugging at her hand. The seven minutes were almost up, and I wanted to see the look on that girl's face after she left the closet with Roman. I wanted to see the look of bliss in her eyes, the hint of red in her cheeks, and watch her inhale with soft, sharp breaths just like the rest of his girls always did. The best part of watching this, was imagining that the girl was me instead— that I was the one feeling euphoric, and not her. And on the other hand, the masochistic part of me wanted to feel my heart burn with jealousy and my chest tighten with the ache I had gotten so familiar with. "Let's go. Please."

My nausea dulled down as I sat back down on the floor, realizing Roman was back. Maybe it was good that I missed the moment they came out— maybe it was good for me to spare my psyche, just this once? As my eyes met Roman's across the room, I couldn't help but notice the dark satisfaction on display across his lips. It was almost as though he knew— or maybe it was the fact that I probably looked a little sick? Did he like the look of pain in my eyes? I was reminded of Brooke Bluebell and her needle story... how he liked imposing pain on girls he found to be vulnerable. The fucking needle thing would haunt me forever.

I barely noticed that the bottle had been spun again, and I was yanked out of my mind-storm when Letha nudged me. "You don't have to," she tried, nodding towards the bottle that was now pointing at me.

My eyes immediately moved from the bottle and straight to Roman, who seemed to grow further amused. There was no way in hell I would back down now— maybe this would change his outlook on me? I had to prove I was fun, after all. Shrugging, acting as though it was no big deal, I reached for the bottle, spinning it.

I couldn't help but ponder if someone up there in the sky was playing games with me when the bottle pointed at the one person I had hoped it would be.

The girl Roman had just been with protested; "What? That's against the rules! He can't go in two times in a row!—"

"Sure can," Roman shot in, watching my every movement like a hawk— something told me he was a little excited about this as well. He got up from the couch once more, walking up to me with confident strides, reaching out for my hand.

As I looked up at him, breath short and choppy, I couldn't pry my eyes away from his. I had always imagined what it would be like to look up at Roman from this angle, to see the sheer look of satisfaction on his face as I— Oh no, my mind was wandering again, wasn't it? I did my best not to shiver as I accepted his hand, feeling our fingers intertwine as he smoothly got me up from the floor.

I didn't even dare to look at Letha in this moment, knowing how she probably felt about it, but I really didn't have time to dwell on it— and it didn't take long before Roman closed the closet door behind us, pulling me back into the moment.

We were quiet for a few seconds, the sounds of our breathing filling the closet— I didn't know what to say or do. The beating of my heart was so loud that I could barely hear my own thoughts, and the light in the small room was dim and warm, making it a rather disorienting experience. It didn't take long before I felt my back hit the wall, letting out a little wince; the alcohol was definitely doing wonders for my balance.

Roman snorted at the sight, emitting a soft laugh; "Careful, there,"

I let out the breath I had been holding, happy that he had been the first one to say something. "It's the vodka," I mumbled, rubbing the part of my head that had hit the wall.

Roman hummed; "Typical,"

"What is?"

"That you can't handle your drinks,"

I wanted to smack him— that was allowed in seven minutes of heaven, right? "So what if I can't? It's not a big deal,"

"Sure," Roman said, nodding to himself. "You just need to be broken in or something."

I wasn't the biggest fan of his choice of words— I was also not a fan of the thought of Roman breaking me more than he had already done, all whilst being completely unaware of it. Choosing not to comment on it further, I switched the subject; "So when was the last time you didn't do anything with a girl in this game?"

He needed a few seconds to scour his brain; "Never, I think,"

Typical. "Even back in middle school?"

"... Definitely,"

I held back a rather large groan— I should've predicted this.

Roman caught onto my eventual silence; "And I reckon this is your first time playing?"

"... Yeah,"

"Okay, I see," Roman ran his fingers through his hair, the usual smirk returning. "You know what usually happens in here, or...?"

I rolled my eyes; "I'm not an idiot,"

"I know," Roman's voice got lower, breathier, as he took a step closer. There wasn't much room for more steps, actually— it was getting rather cramped up at this point. "But if there's anything you've always wanted to try out and haven't dared to, now's the time."

My breath hitched as I hoped the thumping of my heart wasn't loud enough for him to hear. There were many things I wanted to try out, sure, but not here.

It was almost as though Roman could sense how nervous I was; he bent down a little, getting on my level before he whispered; "I won't tell Letha,"

... Oh? Feeling his hot breath against my skin, how dangerously close he was, was almost too much for me. The way he said it made me even more conscious of what was happening; I hadn't even told Letha how crazy I was about Roman yet, and I knew she'd be against it.

However, I was being served my biggest dream on a silver platter. Maybe if I got this bit over with, my feelings would subside and go back to being purely hateful again?

"Okay..." I mustered up the courage, letting out a shaky breath before I opened my mouth to speak; "Could you maybe... kiss me, then?" My words came out barely louder than a whisper. "I've just had a really shitty night."

Roman's expression remained unchanged. "I'm sorry to hear that,"

"... No, you're not,"

"Okay, you might be right," He let out a soft laugh against my lips, and my eyes quickly darted down to his hands to check if he was holding a needle or not. One could never be sure... and this was how I knew my anxiety was through the roof.

"So... you want a kiss? That's all?" Roman asked, looking rather pleased with himself and the situation.

This was too nerve-wracking. I kept imagining that he would switch up and tell me no, that he would reject me somehow and make me the only girl at school he didn't want to do anything with— that would definitely make me hate him even more. In a flash moment of weakness (which I later blamed the alcohol for), I sighed; "Just... could you? Or am I asking for too much?"

Something about Roman's expression changed— he seemed to realize what I was actually asking for before I fully understood it myself. Not to make out, not to drown in one another, but the simplest of all things romance; affection. Something gentle, something sweet, just to check if he had a sliver of anything resembling that in his system.

"You like me, don't you?" Roman whispered, nudging his nose against mine, eyes rounding out as he heard my breath hitch at the simple gesture. "This is what all of this has been about?"

Doing my best to still my breathing and not faint, I closed my eyes, revelling in the feeling. It was the smallest thing, yet it was a comfort in the midst of the conversation. "All of what?"

"Your anger," Roman let out a sigh, connecting our foreheads, closing his eyes as well. "You can't stand that you like me, can you?"

For some reason, I felt the urge to cry— I spent a few seconds pressing down the stream of tears that threatened to surface. Having someone say it out loud felt like a desperately needed release. "It's been a nightmare,"

Roman stilled, eventually letting out a hum which sent a shiver down my spine. "You know nothing about nightmares," he breathed against my lips. "If I tell Letha we fucked in here, you'll be living through your worst one."

For fuck's sake. I mumbled a curse as Roman laughed, clearly amused by the terrified look on my face. "No, I wouldn't do that," he teased, pulling away just a bit. "I'm not that bad, you know that, right?"

I huffed, not meeting his gaze anymore. Confessing to liking him had given him all the power over me in the world. "I don't know... You tend to be quite horrible,"

"And what horrible things do I do, may I ask?"

Oh, I was ready for this question— I had been ready for a while. "First of all, the fucking tater tots," I grumbled, meeting his amused eyes. "The fact that you pull my hair like you're five years old, you've drawn about a hundred dicks in my chemistry book, and the whole needle thing!"

"Needle thing?" Roman furrowed his brows— damn, he and Letha really had the same face, didn't they?

"Yeah, the needle thing! Brooke told us!" Something about the confusion on his face felt rather satisfactory; your turn. "You pricked her and her friend Rachel and just... laughed, or something!"

Remembering the incident, Roman burst out laughing. "Oh, that!" he said, putting a hand on my shoulder. "Yeah, that was fun, I can't lie. So, okay, maybe I'm a bit bad, but... you still like me." His eyes were sparkling with mischief, and I knew it could lead to no good. "You still want to kiss me, so you can't be too scared? Or maybe..." Roman's hand travelled up to my hair, tucking a strand behind my ear as he smirked. "Maybe you're just a massive masochist?"

"What? No!" My protests were quick and loud— I wondered what the people outside this closet thought we were doing. "Roman, just... Ugh, fuck this, I'm leaving."

As I reached for the door, Roman grabbed my hand with force I hadn't expected of him, pinning it above my head against the wall. Like this, he was even closer to me than he had been just under a minute ago, and my eyes went wide with the realization that I could physically feel his bottom lip against mine, not yet coming together in the kiss I so desperately craved.

"I'm not going to make this easy for you," he whispered, words slow and low. Something about this whole situation was so intense, I nearly gave in to a shiver. "Whatever this will be, you and I... won't be easy."

"There is no you and I," I mumbled, feeling my heart beat up against his chest. "We do this once, and then we forget it." Please.

Roman hummed, a cocky grin spreading across his plush, pink lips. "You think you'll be able to? I have a feeling you've wanted me for a while,"

Fuck's sake. I hated him even more when he was right. My gaze hardened as it met his, and I wondered how much time we had left. No matter how mad I was at him, I still wanted to kiss him, just once. This might be the only chance I'd ever get, and I was going to take it.

"Okay, then," Roman accepted my silence as an answer. Nudging my nose with his, he finally pressed his lips against mine with a softness I didn't know he had in him.

This was not what I had expected. Something about this kiss was shaking up my whole view of the world, along with my view of Roman. The most obnoxious guy with an unmatched arrogance could... kiss like this? Like he actually had a soul?

His lips moved against mine as though I was made of glass, and I felt his fingers intertwine with mine in the hand he was holding above my head. It sent shivers down my spine as my mind went haywire, wondering why he was being so careful with me. I brought my free hand up to cup his face, feeling how soft he was against my palm. I had expected him to be rough, aggressive... so what on earth was this?

Roman's arm snaked around my waist as he pulled me closer, and I let out a shaky breath against his lips— heat swirled in the pit of my stomach, feeling as though I was burning up from inside.

But just as it started to get heated, two knocks were heard at the door; Roman pulled away, a victorious smirk in place as though he had successfully proved his point. "Thirty seconds left," he said. "Now, convince me why I shouldn't tell Letha."

What? Still trying to catch my breath, I felt myself freeze up. How was I supposed to think clearly when I was in this state? Roman's hand slid out of mine, waiting for my answer; "So?"

"Just don't," I breathed, putting a hand on my chest to feel my heart— did all of this just happen? "Don't tell her."

"That's not good enough," His green eyes were drilling into mine, and it was clear that he wished to corner me. Sadist.

"I'll do your stupid assignment,"

"Nope,"

"I'll... fuck, Roman, I don't know!"

Roman snickered at my panic, fixing his hair, checking his clock; ten seconds left. "Fine, I'll be nice," he said, reaching out to swipe his thumb along the edge of my lip, wiping away some lipstick. "But you owe me."

Owe him? I wasn't the biggest fan of making a deal with the devil reincarnate in front of me. However, did I have any other choice? I let out a sigh of defeat; "... Fine,"

And this was when it truly hit me; I hated Roman Godfrey with all my heart— I hated the fact that he could make my heart flutter with the smallest gesture, that he could practically walk all over me with no remorse, and that he always looked so fucking good.

However, at the end of the day, what I hated most... was how much I wanted him.

(a/n: click to read PART 2, PART 3, PART 4, PART 5, PART 6, PART 7, PART 8, PART 9, PART 10 here!! thank you for reading!<333)

#roman godfrey #hemlock grove #roman godfrey x reader #bill skarsgård #fanfic #x reader #fanfiction #oneshot #bill skarsgard

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ashwhowrites · 5 months ago

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So I watched Hoard and had to write a little something with it. But of course, Eddie Munson style. More importantly, perv! Eddie Munson style.

Inspired by Hoard, but not a play-by-play of the film. I'll leave the surprises to you. I didn't want to wait a week to post it so here's a bonus read for the day! I hope you give it a read, thank you🫶🏻

Hoard Blurb

Eddie laughed as Y/N lunged at him, easily dodging her as he jumped to the other couch. The sound of Y/N's giggles traveled as she jumped after him.

He groaned when she tackled him, sending both of them to the hard floor. She landed on his back, his stomach flat against the ground. He could hear her laughter dying out, and the slight feeling of her hips shifting. He stayed still when she moved her hips again, and a shuttered moan left her lips.

Y/N was his best friend, a very innocent and pure girl. Her parents kept her closeted to everything, and they'd flip their shit if they ever met Eddie. She was new to everything, fresh meat in high school and Eddie clung to her. Her confused and scared eyes lit a fire inside of him. He could smell the chastity on her and craved to be the one to ruin it.

He felt his pants getting tighter as her hips moved faster and she began moaning. That same fire lit inside his stomach as she moaned louder.

"Angel? What are you doing there?" Eddie asked, a shit-eating grin on his face. He felt her body go still.

"I don't-don't know," she said in heavy pants. Eddie could already picture her naive eyes.

He easily shifted, now on his back as he looked at her. He softly grabbed her hips.

"Did it feel good?" he asked, slowly moving her hips for her.

"Yes," she sighed, feeling that amazing feeling again. She followed his movements and moved her hips the way she was before. It felt better than the other position.

"Yeah? Go a tiny bit faster and it'll feel even better," he edged her on. His eyes rolled back when she planted her hands on his chest and moved her body faster.

He bit his lip as her body really started to get into it. He could tell she was feeling something good from how loud her moans were getting and how much faster her hips moved. She didn't know what she was doing yet she knew what to do.

She was rubbing right against his covered cock, and her hands gripped his shirt. She was making Eddie go crazy, he wanted to tear off her clothes and push his cock inside of her. Not stopping until she was crying and begging him to stop. But he'd never do something so cruel to his soft girl.

He watched with heavy eyes as she trembled. The way her chest heaved as she panted, her mouth wide open as she let out every sound her body forcefully made.

"Eddie I-I" she choked out

"Just keep going, baby. Keep moving," he moaned. Selfishly trapping her hips down and moving her against him. He thought about doing nasty things with her all the time, and this was the closest he ever got. And he was not going to waste a second of it.

He fought with everything in him to keep his eyes open. He didn't want to miss a second of how she looked while she had her first-ever orgasm on top of him.

His eyes glued to her as hers rolled into the back of her head. Her body fell forward, trembling as she gasped for air in his ear. He couldn't help but buck his hips forward. He could feel the wetness from her shorts soaking down on him. He whined as he felt himself cumming with her, a few seconds behind.

He felt nothing but a body as he bucked his hips up and moved her hips. Forcing her poor raw clit to rub against her shorts, making her body get him off, with consent of course. The way she screamed but whimpered for more.

He felt his cock twitch and he came. His warm cum filled his boxers and he flinched at the feeling. He shivered when she landed an unpracticed and wet kiss on his neck, his hands still on her body.

He watched as she moved her hand down to her clit, softly pressing it and hissing.

"Ouch, it hurts, Eddie," she cried, her eyes full of fear

"It's okay. We just don't touch it for a while," he said, leaning in to press soft kisses to her face. "Let's clean up and go to bed, yeah? You were so good for me, I bet that can make you real tired."

She melted into his words, letting him stand back up and pulling her with him. She landed on her soft feet and reached for Eddie's hand. He smiled and pressed a soft kiss to her lips.

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson fanfic #eddie stranger things #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson fluff x reader #ashwhowrites #eddie munson smut #eddie munson smut x female reader #eddie munson smut x reader #innocent reader! x perv! eddie #original idea ashwhowrites

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elysiaheaven · 6 months ago

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𝐂𝐮𝐩𝐢𝐝 𝐟𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝 𝐢𝐧 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐬- 𝐒𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝐱 𝐅.𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 (𝐬𝐦𝐮𝐭)

Words:10000 Contains Sunday leaks of joining.

Genre: Smut

Summary: The new astral member joins, Sunday, The man who tried to kill you all, He doesn't try to get along yet closes himself in his room, You decided to 'educate' him locking himself up is a shit. He began to change and tries to befriend you. He tries to help you with a experiment and sadly aphrodisiac is spilled

( Reader is a female) Reader's clothing is inspired from Mobius. Reader is a scientist!

CW: Mentions of Hickey, Aphrodisiac usage (Accident), Use of nickname (Sunday calls y/n as Angel), Switch Sunday, Vanilla, Slight use of Collar .

Reader is slightly cruel to Sunday at first. Because he was being alone all the time

Sunday was once the revered leader of Penacony. Now, he's just another member of the Astral Express, exiled and alone, thanks to a deal his sister made with Lady Bonajade. In exchange for his freedom, Sunday lost his home and the chance to return to his sister. This left him a quiet, withdrawn man.

The Astral Express crew wasn't thrilled about his presence. March and Dan Heng were constantly on edge around him, although he never caused trouble. He mostly kept to himself, a figure of quiet pain. Only Himeko, Welt, and Stelle were friendly, but you kept your distance. After all, he once tried to kill all of you. Talking to him was out of the question.

You, a scientist with a distinct appearance, wore a sleeveless tight black dress adorned with green and gold. A loose semi-transparent sleeve covered your left arm, complemented by a black glove, while your right arm sported a long black glove with three green claws on your thumb, index, and middle fingers. A gold earring dangled from your right ear.

March and Dan Heng had their opinions about you, describing you as a pure being, a seeker of truth, yet tinged with an air of malevolence. This was more a reflection of your creator than yourself. You wanted to be different but struggled with how to achieve that, often feeling like a mere extension of someone else's design, much like Sunday.

Despite the kindness from Himeko and Stelle, and Welt's occasional different yet kind glances, you remained detached. Dan Heng warmed up to you after you helped him in Luofu, while March tried to act strong but was clearly unsettled by your appearance. In truth, you were simply sleep-deprived, not the malevolent figure they imagined.

Sunday's solitude mirrored your own. You often noticed his sadness but never approached him. One day, you decided to confront him, unable to bear his passive suffering. Cruelly, you told him that sitting in his room and crying wouldn't change anything. His cleanliness and meticulousness only fueled your frustration. Yet, instead of anger, he seemed to find hope in your harsh words.

Sunday started spending more time outside his room, often in the archives, studying. Dan Heng began to bond with him, and it was heartening to see them grow closer. Meanwhile, you locked yourself away, working tirelessly on a liquid to control enemies, hoping to make life easier and reduce the need for constant fighting.

Despite your cold demeanor, Sunday persisted in trying to reach out to you. He would bring you coffee, offer help, and ask to spend time with you. His respectful, orderly nature clashed with your chaotic and isolated existence. You feared that getting close to him might lead to using him as a lab rat, a fate you wished to avoid for him.

You confronted Sunday with cruel words, calling him pathetic for isolating himself, yet it was in these moments that he found a glimmer of hope. He began emerging from his solitude, engaging more with others and spending time in the archive, studying and bonding with Dan Heng. Watching them grow close was heartening, even as you buried yourself in your work, seeking a way to control your enemies without constant battle.

Sunday, however, was undeterred. He continued trying to connect with you, offering coffee, help, and companionship. His respectful persistence and talk of order and harmony were at odds with your chaotic existence. Your fear of dragging him into your world of experiments kept you distant, but his genuine attempts to reach out began to wear down your defenses.

One quiet evening, you found yourself alone with Sunday in the archive. The room was dimly lit, filled with the soft hum of machinery and the rustle of old documents. Sunday was engrossed in a book, but you could see the weight of his exile still pressing down on him. His eyes, once sharp and commanding, now held a distant sadness.

Taking a deep breath, you decided to break the silence. "Sunday," you called out, your voice unexpectedly soft. He looked up, surprised to hear you speak. "I know it's not easy for you, being here, away from your sister and everything you've known."

Sunday's expression softened, a mixture of surprise and gratitude flickering in his golden eyes. He nodded silently, unable to find the words to respond.

"You may not be able to talk to her, but..." You hesitated, unsure of how to proceed. This was uncharted territory for you, showing kindness to someone who once posed a threat. "But I can show you how she's doing," you continued, your tone firmer now. "I have ways to access information, even from afar."

Sunday's eyes widened slightly, a glimmer of hope breaking through his usual stoic demeanor. "You would do that?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

You nodded, pulling out a small device from your pocket. "Just this once," you warned, your voice tinged with a hint of your usual coolness. You tapped a few buttons, and a holographic image appeared, displaying his sister engaged in her media life She looked well, strong, and composed, a stark contrast to Sunday's current state. Tho, he could tell it might be a facade.

Sunday watched the image in silence, his eyes glistening with unspoken emotions. After a few moments, he turned to you, his voice thick with gratitude. "Thank you," he whispered, his voice barely holding together.

You quickly deactivated the device and stepped back, your expression hardening. "Don't get the wrong idea," you snapped, trying to maintain your distance. "This doesn't change anything between us. I'm not your friend, and I'm not doing this out of kindness."

Sunday's face fell slightly, but he nodded, understanding your boundaries. "I know," he said, his voice steady despite the rejection. "But still, thank you. It means more than you know."

You looked away, unable to meet his gaze. "Just... don't make it a habit," you muttered, turning to leave. But before you walked out, you paused at the door, glancing back at him. "And don't let this make you soft. You still have a long way to go."

Sunday nodded, a small, sad smile playing on his lips. "Understood," he replied, watching as you disappeared into the corridor, leaving him alone with the lingering warmth of your unexpected kindness.

Several days had passed since the night in the archive, and you continued your work in isolation. You avoided Sunday, keeping yourself busy with your research and experiments. However, the memory of his grateful eyes lingered in your mind, making it difficult to maintain your usual distance.

He was standing by a window, gazing out at the stars. The soft glow of the celestial bodies illuminated his face, highlighting the sadness in his golden eyes. Seeing him like that, a pang of frustration and concern hit you.

You took a deep breath, steeling yourself before approaching him. "Sunday," you called out, your voice sharper than intended. He turned to look at you, a hint of surprise in his eyes.

"Why do you always look so lost?" you demanded, your frustration spilling over. "You can't just stand around, wallowing in your own misery."

Sunday blinked, taken aback by your sudden outburst. He stepped closer, his expression softening. "I know," he said quietly. "But... it's hard. Being here, away from everything I knew, from my sister..."

Before you could respond, Sunday reached out and gently cupped your face in his hands. His touch was surprisingly warm, and you felt a strange mix of emotions—anger, confusion, and something else you couldn't quite place.

"You've been there for me," Sunday said, his voice steady and sincere. "Even if it's only been a few weeks, even if it was just tough love... you've shown me more kindness than I deserve. And for that, you're now one of my dear people."

His words caught you off guard, and for a moment, you were speechless. The sincerity in his eyes, the way he looked at you—it was disarming. You felt your resolve wavering, but you couldn't let your guard down.

With a soft sigh, you reached up and gently removed his hands from your face. "Don't be ridiculous," you muttered, trying to sound indifferent. "I only did what anyone would do. Besides, seeing you all sad and moping around just makes me angry. It's not like I care or anything."

Sunday chuckled softly, a warm, gentle sound that made your heart skip a beat. "I understand," he said, smiling softly. "But still, thank you. Your words, even if harsh, pushed me to try and move forward."

You looked away, feeling a mix of emotions. It was strange, being thanked for something you hadn't meant as a kindness. But there was a part of you that was glad—glad that he was starting to find his way, glad that your harshness had somehow helped him.

"Just... don't make it a habit to get all sentimental," you said, trying to sound stern. "I'm not good with that kind of stuff."

Sunday nodded, a small smile still on his lips. "I won't," he promised. "But know that I appreciate it, even if you don't want to admit you care."

You huffed, rolling your eyes. "Whatever. Just... try to keep your chin up, okay? It's annoying when you're all downcast."

He nodded again, the smile on his face growing. "I'll do my best," he said, his voice warm and genuine. "And... thank you, again. For everything."

With that, you turned on your heel and walked away, your heart racing. You didn't know what to make of these new feelings, this strange connection that was forming between you and Sunday. All you knew was that, despite your best efforts to keep your distance, something had shifted. And you weren't sure how to handle it.

You threw yourself even deeper into your work, trying to drown out the confusing feelings that had begun to stir inside you. The project you were working on—a chemical solution to control enemies—became an obsession. You worked tirelessly, barely stopping to eat or sleep, driven by an intense need to prove something to yourself, though you weren't entirely sure what that was.

One night, as you were in the lab, your hands trembled from exhaustion and stress. You had been working for hours, your mind a blur of formulas and calculations. The rows of bottles filled with iodine solutions on the lab bench seemed to dance in front of your eyes, the chemicals inside them catching the light in a mesmerizing, yet nauseating, display.

You reached for a beaker, but your vision swam, and your hand slipped. The beaker tipped over, sending a cascade of glass and liquid toward the carefully arranged bottles of iodine. Instinctively, you lunged to catch the falling bottles, but your tired body wasn't fast enough. The sound of shattering glass filled the room, the sharp smell of iodine stinging your nostrils.

Panic surged through you. The thought of losing all your work, of having to start over, was too much to bear. You screamed, a raw, frustrated sound that echoed off the sterile walls of the lab. The noise seemed to vibrate in your bones, shaking loose the tears you had been holding back for what felt like forever.

As the adrenaline faded, you slumped to the floor, the chaos around you a stark contrast to the cold, clinical order you usually maintained. The crash had knocked over more than just bottles—it had broken through the walls you'd built around yourself, leaving you exposed and vulnerable.

You stayed on the floor for what felt like an eternity, the coolness of the tiles seeping through your clothes, grounding you. Eventually, the exhaustion became too much, and you closed your eyes, unable to fight the overwhelming need for sleep any longer. But even in sleep, you found no peace. Your dreams were plagued by the image of Sunday, his sad eyes and gentle hands haunting you, mingling with the guilt of pushing him away and the fear of losing control.

You woke up several times that night, each time more exhausted than before, your body aching from the uncomfortable position and the relentless stress. When morning finally came, you felt like a shadow of yourself, the weight of your own expectations crushing down on you.

As you slowly cleaned up the broken glass and iodine, you couldn't help but think about how fragile everything seemed—your work, your emotions, your relationships. The image of Sunday holding your face, his words about you being one of his dear people, replayed in your mind. It felt like a paradox: how could you be dear to anyone when you couldn't even keep yourself together?

Sunday, noticing your increasingly frazzled state, couldn't shake the concern he felt. He remembered the few moments when you'd shown a glimpse of vulnerability, and he knew you were pushing yourself too hard. Determined to do something for you, he sought advice from Himeko, one of the few people on the Astral Express who seemed to understand you.

One quiet morning, while most of the crew was occupied with their own tasks, Sunday found Himeko in the lounge, sipping her morning coffee. He approached her hesitantly, unsure of how to start the conversation.

"Himeko," he began, catching her attention. She looked up, smiling warmly.

"Sunday, " she greeted him. "What brings you here so early?"

He shifted nervously, glancing around to make sure no one else was within earshot. "I wanted to ask you something... about her," he said, referring to you. "I want to do something nice, but I'm not sure what she'd appreciate."

Himeko raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "That's very thoughtful of you," she said, setting her coffee down. "She doesn't often show what she likes, but from what I've seen, she has a soft spot for cute things. Especially sweets, like strawberry cake."

Sunday nodded, absorbing the information. "Strawberry cake," he repeated, as if committing it to memory. "Any other tips?"

Himeko chuckled. "Just be genuine. She might not show it, but small gestures can mean a lot to her. And knowing you, I'm sure whatever you do will be perfectly in order."

"Order-"

"It's a habit you couldn't control, Don't worry You are perfectly fine the way you are."

With a grateful smile, Sunday thanked Himeko and set off to prepare his plan. He wasn't particularly skilled in the kitchen, but he was determined to make something special for you. He meticulously researched recipes for strawberry cake, wanting to ensure everything was perfect.

The next day, Sunday took over the small kitchen area of the Astral Express. He donned an apron and got to work, his movements precise and careful. He measured each ingredient with exacting precision, making sure everything was just right. The way he handled everything was almost surgical—clean, orderly, and deliberate.

He prepared the batter, mixing it until it was smooth and lump-free. Then he carefully poured it into a baking pan, making sure it was evenly spread. As the cake baked, he prepared the frosting, whipping cream until it was light and fluffy, then adding a touch of pink coloring and fresh strawberries for that perfect touch of sweetness.

When the cake was ready, he let it cool before applying the frosting. He decorated it with a neat arrangement of strawberry slices on top, the vibrant red standing out against the soft pink frosting. The final product was immaculate, each detail carefully considered and executed.

Sunday stood back, admiring his work. He felt a sense of pride and anticipation, hoping that this small gesture would bring a smile to your face, or at the very least, a moment of peace amidst your chaotic life. He carefully packed the cake, making sure it would remain perfect until he presented it to you.

Later, he found you in your lab, still surrounded by your experiments. You looked exhausted, dark circles under your eyes, but there was a determined set to your jaw that Sunday couldn't help but admire.

"Hey," he called softly, catching your attention. You looked up, surprised to see him standing there with a box in his hands.

"What is it?" you asked, trying to mask your curiosity with indifference.

Sunday smiled gently, holding out the box. "I noticed you've been working hard, and I thought you could use a break. So... I made something for you."

You hesitated, then took the box, opening it to reveal the beautifully decorated strawberry cake. Your eyes widened in surprise, a flicker of something softening your usually guarded expression.

"You made this?" you asked, looking up at him with a mix of disbelief and curiosity.

He nodded, a hint of a blush coloring his cheeks. "Yeah. I hope you like it. I know it's not much, but... I wanted to do something nice for you."

You stared at the cake, the neatness and care evident in every detail. It was unlike anything you'd expected, and it stirred something inside you—a warmth you hadn't felt in a long time.

"It's... really nice," you admitted, your voice softer than usual. "Thank you, Sunday."

He smiled, relief and happiness clear in his eyes. "I'm glad you like it. Just... take a break, okay? You can't keep going like this."

As the initial surprise wore off, you felt a surge of conflicting emotions. You weren't used to people doing things like this for you, and the vulnerability it stirred made you uncomfortable. Trying to regain your composure, you quickly bowed your head in a gesture of thanks.

"Thank you, Sunday," you said, your voice steady but with an edge of formality. "I'll... enjoy this."

Without waiting for his response, you turned on your heel and quickly made your way to your room, shutting the door behind you with more force than you intended. The sound echoed down the corridor, and Sunday flinched slightly, concern etching his features. He stood there, staring at the closed door, a pang of worry gnawing at him. Had he overstepped? Misread the situation? The abruptness of your exit made him think he might have upset you.

However, just as he was about to turn away, he heard a muffled sound coming from behind your door. He paused, straining to listen. The walls were surprisingly thin, and after a moment, he clearly heard your voice, raised in an uncharacteristic shout.

"Oh my god, this is amazing!" you exclaimed, your voice filled with genuine excitement and delight. "It's so good! I can't believe he made this!"

Sunday's eyes widened in surprise, and then a slow, relieved smile spread across his face. The tension in his shoulders eased as he realized that your abrupt departure wasn't out of anger but rather a reaction to your own overwhelming emotions. The smile deepened into one of genuine happiness as he listened to your enthusiastic exclamations.

He couldn't help but chuckle softly, shaking his head. It was a rare sight, hearing you so openly expressive, and it filled him with a quiet joy. For once, he'd managed to do something right, to bring a bit of happiness into your world.

As he walked away from your door, Sunday's heart felt lighter. He knew you weren't the type to openly express gratitude or affection, but your reaction told him everything he needed to know. It was enough to hear your joy, even if it was through the walls. He was pleased—more than pleased, actually—knowing that his gesture had been well-received and that, even if just for a moment, he'd managed to make you happy.

Inside your room, you sat down with the cake Sunday had made, a fork in hand. The first bite melted in your mouth, the sweetness of the strawberries and the light, fluffy texture of the cake taking you by surprise. It was perfect—so much so that tears welled up in your eyes, a mix of joy and overwhelming emotion.

"This is so good," you murmured between bites, unable to stop yourself. "How did he even do this? It's amazing..."

Unbeknownst to you, March had been passing by your door when she overheard your exclamations. Curious, she stopped to listen, her eyes widening in surprise as she realized what you were saying. A wide grin spread across her face, and she immediately ran off to find Sunday, eager to share the news.

She found him in the common area, quietly reading a book. "Sunday!" she called out, her voice filled with excitement. He looked up, startled by her enthusiasm.

"What's going on?" he asked, closing his book.

March practically bounced on her feet. "I just heard her in her room! She was saying how amazing the cake was! You really made her day, you know that?" She then clasped her hands together, her eyes wide and pleading. "Could you make something for me too? Please? Pretty please? I promise I'll be your best friend forever!"

Sunday chuckled, genuinely amused by her excitement. "Sure, March," he agreed easily. "I'd be happy to make something for you. What would you like?"

March's eyes sparkled with delight. "Surprise me! I trust your cooking skills completely after hearing how much she liked the cake."

As they talked, Dan Heng and Stelle happened to walk by. Catching the conversation, Stelle grinned and leaned in. "Did I hear something about food?" she asked, her tone playful. "If there's a chance for some free food, count me in!"

Dan Heng, standing beside her, was quieter but curious. He glanced at Sunday, then nodded slightly. "I'm interested too," he admitted, though more reservedly. "It's not every day we get to try something special."

Sunday smiled warmly at the group. "Alright, then," he said. "I'll make something special for everyone. How about a small dinner? It'll be a good chance for us all to sit down and enjoy a meal together."

The idea was met with enthusiastic approval, especially from March and Stelle. Dan Heng, though more subdued, seemed pleased by the prospect as well. They all agreed to meet later that evening in the dining area.

As they left to prepare for the impromptu gathering, Sunday felt a deep sense of contentment. He was grateful for the chance to bring a bit of joy to the team, especially to you. The thought of you enjoying the cake, even crying over it, brought a warm feeling to his heart. It was a simple act, but it seemed to have bridged a small gap between him and the rest of the crew, making him feel more at home on the Astral Express.

That evening, as Sunday worked in the kitchen, preparing a meal with the same care and precision he had put into the cake, he couldn't help but look forward to the dinner. It wasn't just about the food

The dinner Sunday prepared was a quiet but pleasant affair. The crew gathered around the table, enjoying the food he'd painstakingly made. March, in particular, was ecstatic as she dug into the strawberry cake he had baked again, savoring every bite. Her eyes sparkled with delight, and she couldn't help but express her joy aloud.

"Sunday, this cake is amazing!" she exclaimed, grinning from ear to ear. "I think I can forgive you for everything—even for trying to kill us all." She laughed, though there was a hint of seriousness behind her words.

Sunday's expression grew more somber as he set down his fork. He looked around the table, meeting the eyes of each of his companions. There was a moment of silence, a quiet acknowledgment of the weight of the past. He knew he couldn't ignore it or brush it aside with a few kind gestures.

He took a deep breath, steeling himself. "I need to say something," he began, his voice steady but laced with a deep sincerity. "I know I haven't been the most welcomed presence on the Astral Express. And I understand why. My actions before... they were inexcusable. I was following a path that I believed was right, a path guided by my devotion to the Aeon of Order."

Sunday paused, choosing his words carefully. "All my life, I was made to follow that path, to uphold order and protect those who couldn't protect themselves. It was my purpose, my reason for existing. But in doing so, I lost sight of what was truly important. I caused harm, and for that, I am deeply, terribly sorry."

He looked directly at March, then at the others, his eyes earnest. "I know an apology can't erase the past, but I want you all to know that I'm trying to find a new path. My conversation with her"—he glanced toward your direction—"made me realize that I can't cling to my old beliefs if they're causing harm. I need to search for my own meaning, beyond what I was made to believe."

Sunday's voice softened, a note of vulnerability creeping in. "I'm committed to moving forward, to finding a way to live that doesn't hurt others. I want to be better, to be someone you can trust. I understand if forgiveness takes time, or if it's something you can't give. But I want to try, to be a friend, and to support all of you as best I can."

The room was silent for a moment, the weight of his words settling over everyone. March, who had been listening intently, set her fork down and leaned forward, her expression softening. "Sunday," she said gently, "we all make mistakes. It's part of being human—or whatever we are." She smiled wryly. "The fact that you're trying to change, that you're aware of the impact you've had, it means a lot."

She glanced at Dan Heng and Stelle, who both nodded in agreement. Dan Heng spoke up next, his tone calm and measured. "We appreciate your honesty. It's not easy to confront one's past, especially when it involves such difficult choices. But the fact that you're willing to take responsibility and seek a new path... it's a good start."

The next day.

You brewed yourself a cup of coffee and made your way to the common seating area, seeking a moment of quiet. As you entered, you noticed Sunday sitting by the window, seemingly lost in thought. The early morning light cast a gentle glow around him, highlighting his contemplative expression.

When he spotted you, his face brightened with a slight smile. "Good morning, sleepyhead," he greeted you, his tone warm and teasing.

Caught off guard by the unexpected familiarity, you felt a flutter of flustered embarrassment but quickly masked it with a composed expression. "Good morning," you replied, keeping your voice steady as you settled into a nearby seat.

As you sipped your coffee and began to settle into your seat, Sunday glanced over with genuine curiosity. "How's the work going?" he asked, his tone casual but attentive.

You sighed, the fatigue and stress of your ongoing projects bubbling up despite your best efforts to stay composed. "It's been a lot," you admitted, rubbing your eyes. "There's so much to manage, and I feel like I'm barely keeping it together. The more I try to get ahead, the more it seems like everything's falling apart."

Sunday's gaze softened with concern. "That sounds really tough. If you don't mind me asking, what's been the biggest challenge?"

You leaned back, your frustration giving way to a need to vent. "It's the constant pressure to get everything perfect. The experiments, the calculations, everything has to be precise. But when something goes wrong, it feels like it's the end of the world. And it's just me—no one to really help or share the load."

Sunday nodded, absorbing your words with empathy. "I understand. It sounds overwhelming. But, if you'd like, I could help you out. I'm not exactly a scientist, but I can assist with the tasks and take on some of the less critical parts of the work. I've been told I'm good at keeping things organized."

You looked at him, surprised but appreciative. "Are you sure? I wouldn't want to impose on you."

He smiled reassuringly. "Not at all. I'd actually like to help. I've been trying to find ways to contribute more and be useful. And if I can ease some of your stress, that would be worth it."

You hesitated for a moment, considering the offer. The idea of having someone to share the workload with was tempting, and Sunday's genuine offer seemed sincere. Finally, you nodded, a hint of relief in your eyes. "Alright, if you're sure you don't mind, I'd really appreciate it."

"Great," Sunday said, standing up and heading toward a nearby workbench. "I'll get started by organizing your workspace and sorting through some of the data. That should free you up to focus on the more critical tasks. And don't worry about feeling stressed—I'm here to help you, not add to the pressure."

You watched as he began to sort through the scattered papers and equipment, his movements methodical and precise. A sense of calm began to settle over you, knowing that you had support. The thought of someone taking care of the more mundane aspects of your work was a welcome relief.

As Sunday worked alongside you, helping to organize your cluttered workspace, he noticed a peculiar object among the scattered papers and equipment. It was a collar-like item, adorned with intricate designs but clearly out of place amidst the scientific apparatus.

He picked it up, examining it with curiosity. "What's this?" he asked, holding the collar up for you to see.

You glanced over, momentarily distracted from your tasks. A small frown crossed your face as you recognized the collar. "Oh, that. It's something I picked up a while ago. A scammer in Belobog, a planet we traveled to, sold it to me. He claimed it was an ancient artifact with special properties."

Sunday raised an eyebrow, skeptical. "And did it turn out to be...?"

You let out a small, incredulous laugh. "A scam. It's basically a dog collar—probably for some sort of pet or even a decorative piece. Definitely not the ancient relic he made it out to be. It's just an overpriced piece of junk."

Sunday examined it more closely, still skeptical. "It looks pretty elaborate for a simple dog collar. Did the scammer give any other details about its supposed origins?"

You shook your head, shrugging. "Not really. Just that it was from some ancient civilization, but it was clear he was just trying to make a quick buck. We were too eager to find something interesting at the time and didn't question it enough."

He placed the collar back on the desk, his expression thoughtful. "It's impressive how convincing some people can be. But it's good you realized it in time. At least it didn't cost you more than it's worth."

You nodded, appreciating his understanding. "Yeah, it was a lesson learned. I guess sometimes it's easy to get caught up in the excitement of something that seems unique or valuable."

As Sunday continued to help you with your tasks, you couldn't resist teasing him a bit about the collar. You picked it up again, examining it with a mischievous glint in your eye.

"You know," you said, holding the collar up with a smirk, "if you ever want to use this on me, you should let me know. It might be... interesting."

Sunday's eyes widened in surprise, and a deep blush spread across his face. His wings, which were normally relaxed, flared out slightly as he turned his head, clearly trying to hide his embarrassment. "W-What? No, that's not... I mean, I wouldn't..."

You laughed, finding his reaction both endearing and amusing. "Oh, come on, Sunday. You do know what I mean. You're not fooling anyone with that blush."

He stammered, struggling to find the right words. "I-I didn't mean—It's just a collar, and I—"

Your laughter grew, light and genuine. "Relax, Sunday. I'm just teasing. But seeing you so flustered is pretty entertaining."

He finally managed to compose himself, though a faint red hue still lingered on his cheeks. He shook his head, trying to regain his usual calm demeanor. "I guess you got me there," he said, his voice a bit steadier now but still tinged with embarrassment. "I didn't expect that kind of joke."

You continued to chuckle, appreciating the lighter moment amidst the stress. "Well, you did make my day a bit brighter with that reaction. Thanks for being such a good sport."

Sunday managed a sheepish smile, the tension easing. "Glad to hear that. I suppose I should be prepared for all kinds of teasing now."

You grinned, enjoying the playful banter. "Just a fair warning—don't be surprised if I find more ways to make you blush."

Sunday took his new role as your assistant seriously, diligently organizing and tidying your workspace. His meticulous nature ensured that everything was in its place, which was a welcome change from the clutter that had previously overwhelmed you.

However, his relentless focus on maintaining order did come with a downside. He frequently interrupted your work to adjust things or make small improvements. At first, you appreciated the help, but after a while, his constant presence became a bit of a distraction.

You sighed, pausing your work as he appeared once again to rearrange a stack of papers. "Sunday, you're doing a great job with the cleaning, but you're kind of interrupting my flow. Can you just... give me a few minutes to focus? I'll call you if I need anything."

Sunday looked momentarily taken aback, but he nodded. "Oh, right. I didn't mean to be a distraction. I'll just—"

Before he could finish, you playfully cut him off. "Here, take a seat for a moment. I need you to be a good boy and let me work without constantly hovering."

With a mix of amusement and mild exasperation, you guided him to a nearby chair and gently but firmly encouraged him to sit down. He complied, though the weight of his wings made him look slightly awkward as he settled into the chair.

"Just sit here for a bit," you said, giving him a reassuring smile. "Be a good boy and stay put. I'll let you know if I need any more help."

Sunday, still slightly flustered from earlier, couldn't help but smile at your playful tone. He adjusted himself in the chair, trying to look comfortable despite his slightly heavy frame. "Alright, I'll stay here. I promise to behave."

You nodded and turned back to your work, finding it easier to concentrate now that he was no longer hovering over you. After a few minutes of quiet focus, you heard him shift in the chair behind you.

"You know," he said, trying to keep his voice casual, "if there's anything specific you need help with later, just let me know. I'm here to help, but I also don't want to be a bother."

You glanced over your shoulder and saw his sincere expression. "Thanks, Sunday. I appreciate it. I'll definitely let you know if there's anything I need."

As you worked on your experiments, you asked Sunday to bring over a specific mixture you had prepared. He promptly handed it to you, his hands steady despite his earlier embarrassment.

"Here you go," he said, carefully passing you the container.

"Thanks, Sunday," you replied, taking the mixture with a smile. You began to carefully mix the substances, excited to see the final result. The process had been challenging, but you were hopeful that this batch would be a breakthrough.

However, as you stirred the mixture, something seemed off. The concoction started to bubble and emit a strange, intense aroma. You frowned, recognizing the signs of an imminent reaction. Before you could react, the mixture began to froth and hiss ominously.

"Uh-oh," you said, your eyes widening. "I think something's wrong—"

In a split second, the mixture erupted in a small explosion of vapor and liquid. Sunday, who had been standing close by, reacted instinctively. He grabbed you and pushed you down onto the floor to protect you from the spray, his wings flaring out to shield you both.

The two of you landed in a tangled heap, Sunday ending up on top of you. The explosion released a potent, unfamiliar scent that filled the air—a fragrance that seemed to be unusually intoxicating. The smell was faintly sweet and seductive, carrying an almost aphrodisiac-like quality.

As the aroma enveloped the room, Sunday's breathing grew heavier. He seemed disoriented by the combination of the explosion and the overpowering scent. His face was flushed, and he collapsed forward, his head resting against your neck.

You were taken aback by the sudden turn of events, but you instinctively wrapped your arms around him, trying to offer comfort and reassurance. The closeness of his body against yours was intense, and you could feel the rapid rise and fall of his chest.

"Sunday," you said softly, trying to steady him. "Are you alright? Just breathe—"

He mumbled something incoherent, his breaths coming in ragged gasps. His face was pressed against your neck, and you could feel his warm breath against your skin. Despite the situation, there was a tender, vulnerable quality to the moment.

You held him closer, your heart racing as you tried to keep calm. The mixture's aroma had created an unexpected intimacy, amplifying the closeness between you. You felt a mix of concern and something more intense as you cradled him in your arms.

"Hang in there," you murmured, gently stroking his hair. "We'll get through this. Just focus on calming down."

As Sunday's hot breath tickled your neck, you felt his lips pressing against your sensitive skin. The sensation sent a shiver down your spine, making you acutely aware of how close he was to you. You could hear his labored breathing, the sound growing louder and more erratic with each passing second.

His hands moved instinctively, gripping your waist tightly. His fingers dug into your flesh, a sign of his mounting arousal. It wasn't just the explosion that had left him disoriented—it was the powerful aroma that seemed to have clouded his senses.

Despite the chaos surrounding them, you found yourself being drawn deeper into the moment. Your own breathing became shallower, matching the rhythm of his. You could feel his heartbeat thumping against your chest, a wild drumbeat that echoed the throbbing pulse between your thighs.

With a soft moan, you turned your head slightly, allowing Sunday's lips to find their way to yours. The kiss was hungry, desperate, as if he was starving for your taste. His mouth moved over yours with a fervor that left you breathless, his tongue delving deep to claim every inch of your mouth.

The aphrodisiac in the air amplified the intensity of the moment, making every touch, every kiss, feel like it was infused with pure, unadulterated lust. You could feel the heat building between your legs, a burning need that threatened to consume you whole.

Sunday's hands roamed your body, sliding under your shirt to caress your bare skin. His touch was electric, sending jolts of pleasure straight to your core. You arched into his touch, craving more of the sensations he was evoking within you.

Sunday looked deeply into your eyes, apology written all over his features. But before he could speak, you silenced him with another passionate kiss. You pulled him even closer, wrapping your legs around his waist to anchor yourself to him.

"I've got you," he whispered against your lips, a promise that resonated with sincerity. His words soothed the fluttering butterflies in your stomach, filling you with a warmth that spread from your chest down to your very core.

His hands wandered lower, exploring the curves of your hips and the swell of your buttocks. Each stroke of his fingers against your skin made you gasp into his mouth, the sensation driving you further into madness.

Sunday broke away from the kiss only to trail a path of fiery kisses down your neck, his tongue laving at the sensitive skin beneath your earlobe.

With a soft growl, Sunday's hand dipped lower, slipping underneath your panties to tease the damp curls at the apex of your thighs. His fingers traced the outline of your slit, causing you to arch into his touch with a low whimper.

"You're so wet," he groaned against your ear, his voice thick with desire. His thumb grazed over your clit, circling the swollen nub with tantalizing slowness. The pleasure was almost unbearable, making your entire body tremble with anticipation.

Sunday continued to tease you mercilessly, his fingers dipping into your folds before pulling back again. Each time he touched you, he coaxed a gasp from your lips, your body writhing beneath him in search of more contact.

Feeling your pleas for more, Sunday obliged without hesitation. His fingers plunged deeper into your slick heat, curling upward to stroke the spot that made stars burst behind your eyelids. The sensation was overwhelming, pushing you closer and closer to the edge.

"You like that?" he purred, his voice dripping with satisfaction. Without waiting for an answer, he increased the pressure on your clit, rubbing it in tight circles that had your hips bucking against his hand.

"Please," you begged, your voice barely above a whisper. "Don't stop."

Sunday chuckled darkly, his grip tightening around your waist as he pinned you beneath him. His movements became rougher, more urgent, each thrust of his fingers designed to bring you to climax.

With a soft sigh, you leaned up, capturing Sunday's lips in another searing kiss. This time, however, it was you who initiated the contact, taking control of the situation. You tasted yourself on his lips, the combination of your combined arousal making your head spin.

Your hands roamed across his chest, feeling the hard muscles beneath his shirt. You tugged at the fabric, eager to get to his skin. Breaking away from the kiss, you trailed your lips down his neck, leaving a trail of heated kisses in your wake.

As you teased him mercilessly, you felt something large and warm cupping your face. Startled, you glanced up to see Sunday's wings enveloping you, creating a private sanctuary amidst the chaos of the room. The feathers were soft against your skin, providing a stark contrast to the hardness of his body pressed against yours.

With a sudden movement, Sunday lifted you off your feet, carrying you effortlessly to the nearby table. He laid you down gently, his eyes never leaving yours as he towered over you. His hands reached out, grasping the edges of your shirt to pull it over your head, exposing your breasts to his hungry gaze.

He wasted no time in claiming your lips once again, his kiss demanding and possessive. His hands explored your body, tracing the curves of your breasts before pinching your nipples, coaxing a sharp cry from your throat.

As Sunday began to work the collar around your neck, you made a lewd face, your cheeks flushed with embarrassment and excitement. The sight of you squirming beneath him only fueled his desire, making his member twitch with anticipation.

As Sunday worked the collar into place, you couldn't help but tease him, running your hands over his chest and abdomen, avoiding his aching erection. Your touch was maddening, driving him to the brink of insanity as you toyed with him.

"Please, just a little more," Sunday pleaded, his voice strained with desperation. His hands gripped your wrists, trying to guide them where he needed them most. But you held firm, continuing to deny him the relief he craved.

Finally, unable to take anymore, Sunday tried to assert his dominance. He pushed you down onto the table, his body covering yours as he pinned your arms above your head. His hips ground against yours, the friction sending sparks of pleasure through both of you.

"I'm going to make you cum," he growled, his hot breath fanning over your face.

Feeling your tug on his sensitive wings, Sunday let out a deep moan, pressing himself harder against you. The sensation was intoxicating, sending waves of pleasure coursing through his veins. His hips gyrated against yours, seeking friction while his member throbbed with need.

Sunday leaned down, planting a series of kisses along your neck. Each press of his lips sent shockwaves of delight through your body, making you writhe beneath him. His teeth grazed over your skin, marking you as his own.

The pleasure built within you, coiling tighter and tighter until it threatened to explode. And then, suddenly, it did. A loud cry escaped your lips as your orgasm washed over you, your inner walls clenching around nothing.

With a soft chuckle, Sunday allowed himself to indulge in the pleasure of your touch on his wings. The sensation was unlike anything else, adding a new layer of delight to their already intense encounter.

His hands moved between your legs, resuming their teasing of your clit. His fingers danced over the sensitive bud, coaxing another wave of pleasure from your trembling body. Your cries filled the room, echoing off the walls and spurring him on.

Sunday's member throbbed with need, desperate for release. But he refused to give in just yet, determined to draw out every last bit of pleasure from this moment. His hips rocked against yours, grinding his length against your slick folds, coating himself in your arousal.

Both of you moaned loudly, lost in the throes of lust. The sound of your combined pleasure was music to his ears, fueling his desire even further.

Feeling your teasing words, Sunday couldn't help but smirk. Despite his gruff exterior, he was indeed quite sensitive - especially when it came to you. He loved the way you called him 'cute birdy guy', finding it endearing rather than insulting.

But as much as he wanted to stay with you, he knew it wouldn't be easy. After all, he was a demon, born and bred to live a solitary life. But something about you made him want to defy his nature, to take responsibility for someone other than himself.

With a gentle caress, he traced his fingers along your cheek, gazing deeply into your eyes. "I do want to try," he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. "To be with you...as lovers."

Surprised by Sunday's declaration, you stared at him, your heart racing with a mix of emotions. Could it really be true?

Before you could respond, Sunday closed the distance between you, capturing your lips in a passionate kiss. His mouth moved against yours with a fervor that left you breathless, conveying the depth of his feelings without needing words.

Breaking away, he looked at you intently, his eyes burning with a fire that mirrored the passion in your own soul. "I'll show you just how serious I am," he vowed, his voice low and husky with promise. "We'll explore every inch of each other, and you'll know beyond a doubt that I'm committed to this."

Sunday's eyes glowed with an intensity that matched the heat radiating from his body. He slid his hands down your sides, his fingertips grazing over the curves of your waist and hips before traveling lower still. His touch was electrifying, sending jolts of pleasure straight to your core.

He leaned in closer, his warm breath tickling your earlobe as he whispered, "Let me taste you." Without waiting for your response, he dipped his head down, his tongue tracing a path along your collarbone before settling between your breasts.

His mouth latched onto one nipple, sucking and nibbling on it with an eagerness that had you writhing beneath him. Every flick of his tongue sent shockwaves of pleasure coursing through your body, building towards an inevitable climax.

Feeling Sunday's hand venture lower, you gasped as his fingers found your swollen clit. His touch was deft and deliberate, applying just the right amount of pressure to send ripples of pleasure through your entire being.

As he played with you, his thumb circled your clit in slow, tantalizing motions. The sensation was overwhelming, causing your body to arch up towards him in search of more contact. His fingers continued their ministrations, coaxing moans and whimpers from your lips as they grew louder and more frequent.

Sunday's member twitched in anticipation, throbbing with need. But for now, he focused solely on pleasuring you, wanting to ensure that you reached your peak first.

With a deep groan, Sunday positioned himself between your thighs, aligning his rigid member with your entrance. He paused for a moment, savoring the feeling of your warmth so close to him, before slowly pushing inside.

Your tightness enveloped him, gripping his shaft like a velvet vice. Sunday's eyes rolled back in his head as he savored the sensation, his pace slow and deliberate as he gave your body time to adjust to his size.

Once he was fully sheathed, he began to move, withdrawing almost completely before thrusting back in. The motion was deep and powerful, hitting spots within you that made your vision blur and your mind go blank.

Sunday set a relentless pace, his hips snapping forward with each stroke. The sound of flesh slapping against flesh filled the air, punctuated by your moans and his grunts of effort.

Sunday's movements were a perfect blend of tenderness and ferocity, his strokes designed to elicit the most pleasure possible from your body. Each thrust hit deeper than the last, driving you closer to the edge of blissful obliviation.

Despite his rough exterior, Sunday took care not to make things too messy. His hands steadied your hips, guiding them to meet his every thrust perfectly. His member slid in and out of you with ease, thanks to his skilled maneuverings.

Between thrusts, he would lean down to capture your lips in a searing kiss, silencing your loud moans with his own. His mouth traveled down your neck, planting hot kisses along the sensitive skin there. He whispered sweet nothings into your ear, encouraging you to let go and surrender yourself to the waves of pleasure washing over you.

Feeling your gaze fixed on him, Sunday pulled your collar aside, blocking your view of him. It was a strange gesture, but it only served to heighten your arousal further. The lack of visual stimulation pushed you even deeper into the throes of pleasure, leaving you utterly defenseless against the onslaught of sensations coursing through your body.

With your attention focused solely on him, Sunday increased his tempo, his thrusts becoming more erratic and forceful. He buried himself deeper within you, seeking out those hidden places that seemed to trigger the most intense reactions from your body.

Each stroke brought forth new waves of pleasure, threatening to overwhelm you entirely. Your breathing became ragged, your moans growing louder and less controlled. Sunday's own breathing echoed yours, punctuated by guttural growls of satisfaction as he felt your walls clench around his member.

The mounting pleasure finally became too much to bear, and you felt your climax approaching rapidly. As if sensing your impending release, Sunday's movements became even more urgent, his thrusts becoming shorter and more shallow as he sought to reach his own climax simultaneously.

With a few final, deep thrusts, Sunday felt his control slipping. A low growl escaped his throat as he came, his seed spilling into you in hot, pulsing jets. The feeling of him filling you up was overwhelming, triggering your orgasm instantly.

As your bodies trembled with the aftershocks of pleasure, Sunday held you tightly against him, murmuring words of affection and praise. "You're my angel," he breathed, pressing soft kisses to your forehead and cheeks. "I'll take care of you...always."

Feeling your weight shift atop him, Sunday allowed himself to be pushed down onto the ground. As you straddled him, he looked up at you with lust-filled eyes, his member still throbbing inside you.

The change in position allowed you to take control, and you wasted no time in starting to ride him. Your hips moved in a slow, sensual rhythm, grinding down onto his length as you adjusted to his girth.

Sunday's hands found your hips, guiding you with a firm yet gentle grip. He assisted your movements, helping to set a steady pace that had both of you panting with desire.

Each downward movement of your hips elicited a low groan from Sunday, his pleasure evident in the way his eyes fluttered shut and his lips parted.

Feeling your movements become more erratic, Sunday knew that another climax was imminent. His hands tightened on your hips, urging you to continue riding him as he fought to maintain his composure.

He continued to murmur endearments, his voice a soothing lullaby that helped calm your racing thoughts. His kisses peppered your scalp, each press of his lips sending a jolt of pleasure straight to your core.

But it was a losing battle. With a final, powerful thrust upward, Sunday succumbed to the pleasure, his body tensing beneath you as he came. His seed spilled into you once again, this time in a series of smaller pulses that seemed to go on forever.

Your inner walls clenched around his member, milking him for all he was worth. The intensity of your orgasm left you breathless and spent, collapsing onto his chest as you rode out the waves of pleasure.Sunday held you close, his hands gently stroking your back as he whispered sweet nothings into your ear.

Waking up in the comfort of a familiar bed, you stretched lazily, the sheets sliding off your bare skin. You noticed immediately that you weren't sticky, and realized Sunday must have taken care of everything while you slept.

Glancing around, you spotted Sunday standing by the window, his silhouette outlined against the morning sunlight. You stood up, your muscles protesting softly at the sudden movement. You felt flustered but smiled nonetheless, drawn to the man who'd given you such pleasure the night before.

As you approached him, the cool air kissed your heated skin, causing goosebumps to rise on your flesh. You reached out, placing a hand on his arm. "Hello," you said, your voice soft and husky from sleep.

Sunday nodded, his gaze drifting down to where your hand rested on his arm. "Hey," he replied quietly. After a brief pause, he continued, "I, uh, took care of everything while you slept. The room's cleaned up, and... well, I didn't want you to wake up to any mess."

You glanced around, noticing that everything was indeed spotless. The remnants of the previous night had been carefully tidied away, leaving no trace of the chaos that had ensued. It was clear that Sunday had gone to great lengths to ensure everything was in order.

"Thank you," you said, touched by his thoughtfulness. "You didn't have to do all this."

He shrugged, looking a little embarrassed. "I just wanted to help. After everything that happened, it seemed like the least I could do."

There was a brief, charged silence between you. Sunday's expression grew more serious as he hesitated, then gently took your hand in his. His touch was warm, yet there was a nervous energy to it.

"I'm... sorry," he began, his voice tinged with guilt. "About last night. I didn't mean for things to go that far. It was my responsibility to protect you, not... not let things happen like that."

You felt a pang of emotion at his words, recognizing the weight he placed on himself. Stepping closer, you wrapped your arms around him, pulling him into a comforting hug. Sunday stiffened for a moment, then slowly relaxed, leaning into the embrace.

"You don't have to apologize," you murmured against his shoulder. "We were both caught off guard. And... well, I don't regret it. But I understand if you're feeling conflicted."

His wings covered up his face.

"Hm? Don't get all shy on me....Also thank you for..taking care...I'm too lazy for bathing anyway.."

You turned to Sunday, resting your head on his chest, and decided to share more about your work.

"So," you began, your voice soft, "my research... it's about finding a way to control our enemies. Not in a harmful way, but to influence their actions, maybe even change their minds or make them more cooperative. It's about creating order, really."

Sunday's eyes widened in surprise, his eyebrows raising. He looked at you with a mixture of intrigue and concern. "Control your enemies?" he echoed, clearly processing the information. "That's... ambitious. And a bit scary, if I'm being honest."

You smiled, appreciating his honesty. "Yeah, Wait! Aren't you a follower of !!!!"

He chuckled softly, a playful glint in his eyes. "It's useless trick, After that incident I know even using that I could be fooled easily. In fact I'm not a know it all. But you don't have to overwork yourself on that...I think I can use it for you. " he teased, giving you a gentle squeeze as he hugged you closer.

You laughed, the sound light and genuine. "You don't have to-" you said, feeling a warmth spread through you at his touch. "Besides, I like you just the way you are."

Sunday's expression softened, and he looked at you with a deep affection. "I'm glad to hear that," he murmured. He hesitated for a moment, as if weighing his words, before continuing. "You know, if you ever need someone to support you or help you figure things out, I'm here. And... if it's okay, I'd like to be with you. More than just friends, I mean."

His words hung in the air, and you felt your heart skip a beat. You looked into his eyes, seeing the sincerity and hope in them. Without a word, you nodded, a soft smile playing on your lips.

"It's more than okay," you whispered, leaning in to rest your forehead against his. "I'd like that too."

Sunday's face lit up with a joyful smile, and he pulled you into a tender embrace. The two of you stayed like that, holding each other close, feeling the connection that had deepened between you. It was a moment of quiet understanding and mutual affection, a promise of what was to come.

you lay there, wrapped in each other's arms.

"It's okay if you don't love me as much as I love you," Sunday said softly, a hint of sadness in his voice.

You reached out, touching his cheek gently. "I want us to fall in love together," you replied, your voice filled with warmth and sincerity.

He looked at you, surprise and hope mingling in his eyes. "Wait, are you really choosing me?" he asked, his tone incredulous. "I'll be with you forever. I won't leave you, even if I'm ordered to. Maybe... maybe for a new purpose, I'll make you happier than anyone else in the world."

You couldn't help but laugh softly at his earnest declaration. "Haha, considering you just unconsciously removed my clothing, what? Want another round?" you teased, a playful glint in your eyes.

Sunday's face flushed a deep red, and he quickly ducked under the sheets, his wings wrapping around him as if to hide his embarrassment.

"Huh? Why are you hiding under the sheets?" you asked, amused by his sudden shyness.

"...Because I'm embarrassed," he mumbled from under the covers. "That was my first time. I'm sure I did something wrong..."

You couldn't help but smile, touched by his vulnerability. You gently patted his head, comforting him. "You were fine. I don't have any experience in that department either, so you did great!" you assured him, your voice full of encouragement.

He peeked out from under the sheets, looking a bit more reassured. "I can only hope... Tell me if there's anything I can do better. I'll work hard to improve," he said, his voice firm with determination.

You chuckled, finding his earnestness endearing. "You're so earnest," you said affectionately, leaning down to kiss his forehead. "And that's one of the things I like about you."

Sunday smiled, his wings slowly unfolding as he relaxed.

"It's okay if you don't love me as much as I love you," Sunday said softly, a hint of sadness in his voice.

You reached out, touching his cheek gently. "I want us to fall in love together," you replied, your voice filled with warmth and sincerity.

He looked at you, surprise and hope mingling in his eyes. "Wait, are you really choosing me?" he asked, his tone incredulous. "I'll be with you forever. I won't leave you, even if I'm ordered to. Maybe… maybe for a new purpose, I'll make you happier than anyone else in the world."

You couldn't help but laugh softly at his earnest declaration. "Haha, considering you just unconsciously removed my clothing, what? Want another round?" you teased, a playful glint in your eyes.

Sunday's face flushed a deep red, and he quickly ducked under the sheets, his wings wrapping around him as if to hide his embarrassment.

"Huh? Why are you hiding under the sheets?" you asked, amused by his sudden shyness.

"…Because I'm embarrassed," he mumbled from under the covers. "That was my first time. I'm sure I did something wrong…"

He peeked out from under the sheets, looking a bit more reassured. "I can only hope… Tell me if there's anything I can do better. I'll work hard to improve," he said, his voice firm with determination.

You chuckled, finding his earnestness endearing. "You're so earnest," you said affectionately, leaning down to kiss his forehead. "And that's one of the things I like about you."

Sunday smiled, his wings slowly unfolding as he relaxed

You snuggled closer to him, feeling his warmth and the soft texture of his wings against your skin. The comfort of his presence, combined with the lingering sense of safety and peace, lulled you into a state of deep relaxation. You felt your eyelids grow heavy, the weight of the morning's emotions and the previous night's events pulling you towards sleep.

"Thank you," you whispered, your voice barely audible as you drifted off. "For existing.."

Sunday gently wrapped his arms around you, holding you close. "Thank you too." he murmured back, his voice a soft promise.

With that reassurance, you let yourself sink into the comforting darkness of sleep. The last thing you felt was the steady rhythm of Sunday's heartbeat and the gentle rise and fall of his chest as he breathed. It was a peaceful, comforting sensation, and it carried you away into a restful slumber.

#honkai star rail #hsr sunday x reader #sunday x reader #sunday hsr #sunday x y/n #sunday x you #sunday x reader smut #hsr smut #honkai star rail smut #honkai star rail x you #honkai star rail x reader #hsr x reader #sunday x female reader #sunday smut #hsr oneshot #honkai x reader

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lustytears · 11 months ago

Text

i wanna turn you on.

loser!luke castellan x f!reader

summary: (title is inspired by the smashing pumpkins - today) luke castellan basically watches you from your cabin window and mutually (but not mutually) masturbates with you.

warnings: smut, luke is a bit weird. luke is giving virgin but that’s up to the reader honestly, reader gets sexualized by luke, written in mainly luke’s perspective but it does switch to the readers, masturbation, bathroom breaks (if you catch my drift from the previous tag), luke is a manipulative piece of shit but it’s very hard to know at first read.

You weren’t kidding when you had the sneaking suspicion that one had always been watching you. All of your darkest moments felt violated, invaded, or even threatened.

Maybe you thought wrong. That’s what everyone else thought when you confessed to your friends, saying that “Nobody would bother to try and watch you” or, “You’ll be fine. Camp’s safe.”

What you were unaware of was that Luke Castellan, the brave and noble leader who aspired many at camp for his dedicated devotion to his people and the gods.

Were you wrong to think otherwise?

•————————————————————————•

He was desperate. Desperate to understand you, feel you, and even taste you. His heart (as conveyed by those personal to him) was kind, logical, and even charming. He welcomed everyone who was unclaimed, and those who were claimed. The sweet little “heys” and the “hellos” are what people paid attention to. His demeanor and morality were nothing but pure.

You knew that for some reason, Luke had the right intentions. But for some part inside of you, something twisted his image into something so much more darker and malevolent.

He wasn’t dark, neither any of the things you thought. Contradicting, yes—but he couldn’t help but stare at you whenever you walked past, staring at the back of your body and sometimes your ass. He tried to snap out of it, tried so hard to keep his control, but he couldn’t help it.

He realized that you were his new obsession. Occasionally, Luke would sometimes go to the bathroom stalls to stroke his painfully rock-hard cock that leaked small beads of pre-cum, wiping onto his hand and leaking all over the base of his cock. His mind would drift to how your voice was maternally caring, sweet and dripping almost like nectar. Your lips and the way they would part open and close, rubbing them together against your pink-glossed lip gloss. The thought of the sticky consistency and shiny glow of your lips wrapped around the base of his cock as he steadily thrusted his cock hard and fast into your mouth like it was nothing but made for him would make him grip the top of the stall door.

Luke would try to feel disdained by these thoughts, try so desperately to think of other problems he had. But you were his only problem.

One day around Camp, he noticed how one of the Ares boys were sticking around you like you were some kind of fly trap. The boy would try and lift you up, slinging you over his shoulder like you were some prized possession.

“Put me down!” You laughed as you nudged your body, particularly your hips noticeable to both the boy that was carrying you and to Luke.

The Ares boy took notice of the sudden tension and put you down, before accidentally (but obviously, not totally) pushing your ass into his pelvic region when he grabbed your arms and pulled you back. You’d laugh, the impact of your ass in those little black shorts bouncing against his center drove Luke fucking insane.

Luke ended up getting one of the hardest boners ever to pain him, and he would occasionally watch your body move around, your hips swaying and the way your ass was barely fit into your outfit made him palm his cock, pretending to adjust his jeans.

On a dark night, Luke realized that you had the same routine. Specifically, it was your night routine. He didn’t expect to remember it, but he remembered one specific incident where he followed you to your cabin.

He watched as you opened the door and closed it, slamming it behind you in what may have been frustration. Then, he got the idea to get a closer look.

Luke inched near your window, crouching below the window pane just to see perfectly into the dimly visible light that instantly let him see into your own world. It was so wrong, but it was so worth knowing that the blinds were pulled up all the way, almost as if you personally wanted somebody to watch you like you were a product on display.

You walked around the room, his eyes following your every step, even when you sat down on the bed and looked through your dresser, going through the top drawer that contained your underwear and nightwear. Pulling out a black mesh nightgown, you got up and started to strip down to your bare and naked body. He carefully focused on how the t-shirt you wore hiked up above your amazingly flawless breasts. The way you pulled it off and threw it down to the bed caused the two of you to moan, unknowingly so. You seemed frustrated with something, but he was high as fuck on this moment.

His cock rubbed against the barriers holding him back, and it wasn’t getting better. When your thumb tucked underneath the waistband of your underwear and shorts, you pulled them down and off your legs. Your ass was visible for him to see, and he dared to peak his head up a little more to see how it motioned as you walked to your bed.

He expected you to put back on your nightgown, but he thought so, so fucking wrong. You flopped down your bed and pulled your legs up to show him how your pussy looked dripping wet. His mouth dropped, his hands going down to his pants and subconsciously unbuttoning them so he could stick his dick out through his boxers and thrust his half-erect cock into his fist.

But he didn’t want to touch himself just yet. He needed to see more. What more could you give? It didn’t make any sense, but it finally did when your long and slender fingers tucked under your weight, where you parted your cunt apart with two fingers in a ‘V’ shape. You moaned as the cold air hit your hot and wet pussy. Luke’s hands fumbled to pull his cock out, his eyes glued to the way you were now dipping your middle finger into your sopping wet hole. You pressed a finger into your gummy walls and started to create a rhythm along with your hips and your hand.

He rubbed the leaking pre-cum all over the tip of his cock, pretending like your thumb was doing so. He wrapped his palm around his dick and jerked himself up and down in a slow and deliberately painful manner. Your fingers moved to your clit and began to rub it in a circular motion, your lips all puffy and your eyes closed from the pleasure you were giving yourself. So much was going on for you that your back arched off the bed, and Luke’s cock was being fucked even faster from his own hand. He whined a bit louder, involuntarily thrusting into his own hand. The both of you could sense your own respective releases, and it wasn’t slowing down anytime sooner.

Luke would whisper his name to his own self, pretending like it was you who was calling it out through the muffled sounds of your moans inside of your cabin. Your legs twitched and two fingers were now deep and invasive inside of your tight cunt.

He hoarsely whispered to himself. “Fuck, I’m gonna cum so hard all for you,” softly swearing as he could feel his own semen dripping out of his cock and lubricating his fist.

Your fingers worked harder, and your clit was getting rubbed to the point where it felt like it was numb for pleasure. You let out a steady and sharp moan, lifting your ass off of the mattress and pumping now three digits into your pretty and pink pussy. He watched you, all goggly and eyes wide like he’d miss one second of you. He couldn’t waste the opportunity to miss you cum.

Luke was now practically moaning and hyperventilating as he let out a sigh and came all over the place. Webs of white and hot cum coated his overstimulated cock and the fist of his hand. You followed along, cumming and tightening all around your fingers as you vocally expressed one of the best moans one could ever experience in an orgasm.

All tired and weak, your legs fell down against the bed as your swollen clit pulsated from such intensity.

With realization, Luke snapped his eyes down to see the mess he made just crouching below your window. He groaned, shaking his hand to get rid of some of the cum that was on his hand. His cock was now soft and finally pleased, so he tucked his cock right back into his boxers and pulled up his jeans, remaining low and among the bushes before he know it was safe to walk alone.

When Luke was approached by a wandering cabin mate, he’d just make an excuse.

“Couldn’t sleep. Had to kill time,” knowing damn well with a smile that you just solved his nightly frustrations.

#UGH THIS IS SO BAD #FEELS SOO RUSHED #luke castellan smut #luke castellan #smut #stalker #pjo tv show #percy jackson #percy jackson smut #fanfic

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timeforaneclipse · 2 months ago

Note

I'd give you my soul for some Avis Amberg fic, I swear!!! If you're up for a request, could we see Avis flirting with you the entire time out at an event, riling you up, up, up. Ik you did some light smutty stuff for Falling Apart (I loved it sm), and if you're up for it, you drag her off for quick dirty bathroom sex, but if not, just her teasing the ever loving shit out of you "Wait till we get home, you'll see just what mamma has in store for you. ;)" I have so many feelings 🫠 about this woman, and your writing is amazing! Anyway, ily have a good day 🫶

Tease. (Avis Amberg x reader)

Warnings? - Filth. Pure filth.

Tracing your finger tips over the green fabrics that hugged your figure, you took a minute to admire the dress. It was soft. Never before had you worn something so.. expensive looking. You almost felt out of place despite of the small fond smile that you had on your face. Avis had gifted you the dress for your birthday one evening. You were quick to tell her that it was too much but the older woman was quick to hush your protests. In truth, you never would've thought that you had the need for such a magnificent piece of clothing. Giving your circumstances but Avis was insistent. And like always, The older woman was proved right. However, just seeing it on for the first time? It made your heart race in ways you couldn't explain. You could barely believe that it was you in the mirror. It was perfect. A sigh escaped your lips as you tidied up your hair and thought of the older woman. The situation... between the two of you was nothing with but a... favour. At least that's what you convinced yourself it was. But as time continued on the two of you got closer, you began to question.

A knock came from the bathroom door and you glanced over to it like it had said something utterly horrific. "You haven't fallen down the loo, have you?" Ellen's voice rang from the other side of the door. You softened, chuckling as you remembered you were in fact not alone. You unlocked the door for the older woman and her smile became one of admiration. "My..." The blonde inspected you over. "You look.... beautiful." She hummed, a hint of pride in her voice. "Avis will love it." She hummed deep in thought. Your heart fluttered at the thought of Avis. "Are you ready to go? This celebration won't wait for us." The older woman urged. Right, of course! The party... The whole reason you were in this stunning dress in the first place.

You nodded with a smile. "Avis will meet us there?" You asked, curious to how the evening was to go. You knew that Ace would most likely be accompanying her tonight but for some god unknown reason, Avis wanted you there too. Ellen was quick to lead you to her car. Arriving at Vivian Leigh's mansion, you couldn't help but look for Avis' car. Nothing your wondering gaze, Ellen smirked to herself and shook her head.

Once inside, You turned your head in the direction of the voices a head. Unsure if you could handle the massive crowd you gave a nervous look to Ellen who had returned with a supportive look in her usual soft eyes. "This is important." She hummed. "If you want to be an actress you need to network." She urged like a mother encouraging a child to do their homework. Your lips became thin. You understood her reasonings but most people here were pricks. Or rather snakes as Avis called them. So against your better judgement, You heeded the older woman's advice and began to socialize. You had spoken to a few other inspiring actors and a couple of Ellen's friends but your eyes were always drifting off to find Mrs Amberg. Wherever she was.

It wasn't long until you felt a hand on your lower back. The soft lingering touch made your stomach flutter as you turned your head to the slightly smaller woman beside you. A wide grin appeared on your face. "Avis." You smiled like a fool. Avis looked floored as she got a full look at your dress. Her eyes darkened as she eyed your cleavage. A smirk on her red lips. "It's good to see you." your honesty hung in the air for a moment. It had been a while since you had actually last seen the older woman. Avis' husband, Ace, began to grow suspicious of her outings and the older woman had wanted to keep things on the low for the time being.

"I always did say green was your colour." She hummed, deep in thought. "The dress looks divine on you, baby...." She whispered, her grip on the verge of becoming possessive. Your cheeks began to glow as you held the older woman's intense gaze, heat pooling through you. "Mamma's been so lonely without you." She whispered thickly into your ear. Her other hand run down your side as she watched your reaction, entirely gleeful with the effect she was having on you. She then walked away, leaving you utterly speechless. You shook your head and cleared your throat as she gave you a snarky cheeky smirk, putting an extra sway in her hips as she walked away. Your throat became bone dry. Oh god...

During dinner, You manage to snatch a seat in-between Ellen and Avis. You raised an eyebrow at the talk at the table. You couldn't help but be completely lost... They were using this terminology that you had never heard of before, it was as if it were all a different language. As you ate, you suddenly felt a shoe trace up and down your calf. You swallowed and gave a light warning glare to Avis but the older woman just looked at you innocently with a small smile. Not heeding your pathetic warning, her hand began to rest on your thigh, gently tracing her feather-light touch over your upper leg. Your grip on your fork tightened. Curse her. Leaning close, the older woman scanned your flustered state. "You always look your best like this, baby." She purred and took a sip of wine. You followed suit. Also taking a drink. "Needy and unable to do anything about it.... Just a desperate-" Without warning and without much thought, you had purposely splashed some of your wine wine onto her chest. The older woman stared, utterly baffled by the change in events. By the audacity you had to splash her. Her dark brown eyes narrowed in annoyance and she stood. "I'll be back." Her lips were tight and became as thin as a line.

Sighing, you stood and followed her as she stormed towards the bathroom. Once inside, you locked the door as she turned on her heel to look at you. Her eyes piercing. "Don't you think that was a bit immature." She glared heavily. "I mean what are you? Five?" Avis rolled her eyes but before she could continue to tell you off, Your lips crashed against hers. Her eyes twinkled for a moment, widening before closing. Melting into the kiss. Avis' whimpered and deepened the kiss. Desperate for more. One of her hands cupped your face while the other curved around the back of your neck. She hadn't had you in weeks. And now? Now you were finally in her arms once more. Her brows furrowed and her grips tightened. Afraid that you'd disappear. As your arms snaked around her waist, you pulled back from the kiss and began to lick and nibble at her neck. A rumble left the older woman's throat and she leaned her head back slightly, Allowing you more access. Her finger began to weave their way into your locks and she gasped as your kisses became more rough. As you bit and sucked at her pale flesh, you were cautious of leaving visible marks. Despite how much you yearned to. You wouldn't dare. Not without her permission and certainly not while Ace was circling like a vulture.

You travelled down her neck and Licked away the alcohol that you had spilt on her. Pulling back, your eyes softened as you took a moment to admire the goddess in front of you. She raised an eyebrow at your pause but smirked like the devil when she saw that look in your eyes. She pulled you into an embrace and stroked your hair. She adored your hair. "I really did miss you..." She admitted quietly in a whisper. Her perfume invaded your senses and you hid your face into her neck... "Now come on... show Mamma how much you've missed her, Baby." She chuckled and pulled your chin so that you'd look her in the eye. It was her turn for her lips to attack yours. Her lipstick smeared all over your face as the desperation she was truly feeling became more clear.

Continuing from where you had left off, You kissed her neck. Your hand messaging her breast. A moan nearly escaped the older woman's mouth but she was quick to bite down on her lip, eyeing you as you worked on her. Your hands found the zipper to her dress and you gave her a look. Silently asking for permission to continue. When Avis gave you an encouraging nod, you pulled on the zip. Unclipping her bra, you began to suck and above her breast a little, trying to catch her reaction. You lowered, licking over her nipple. The older woman gasped and her grip on you tightened. One of your hands went to her waist, holding onto her as the other messaged her other breast. You began to kiss her stomach. Worshipping each section of her body. Leaving nothing untouched. Avis watched you and softened. She moved some of your, now untidy, hair out of your face. "You look so beautiful, Avis..." You whispered so quietly that she almost missed it. Her breath hitched as you continued as if it was nothing. A second nature. Your words shook her to the core, despite the innocence of them. She nearly teared up. Since she had to distance herself, she hadn't those words from anyone. Especially not from Ace. It meant the world to her. To hear your praise once more. Even after so many weeks.

Avis yelped in surprise as you lifted her onto the counter, her eyes widening almost comedically. You opened her legs and stood in between them and placed a few kisses along her jaw. Her legs pulled you closer. Your hands gripped onto her hips as you knelt down. Avis' hands went to the counter's edge, gripping onto it for dear life. You raised an eyebrow as you looked at her lace black underwear. "God, Avis your soaked." You smirked, eager to get some revenge for earlier. Her eyes sharpened like a hawk. "Here you are doing all your teasing and yet your the one whose wreck." You giggled.

"Just you wait, baby..." She hissed, annoyed by your cockiness. You laughed and took off her underwear and spread her legs a little wider. You kissed the inside of her thighs. She hummed in pleasure. "You can leave marks, darling." She whispered. You paused for a moment as you processed her words. Your heart leaping at them. Wasting now time, You bit down and began to suck. leaving a few red marks over her inner thighs. She whimpered and leaned back. Needing more. So, You gave her your tongue. A loud slut worthy moan escaped her when your warm wet tongue go up her soaked entrance as her back arched. Needy for more. Your eyes widened at her noises. You paused and glanced to the door. She seemed to share you thoughts because her panicked eyes were also staring at the door. You shook your head in relief. Nothing seemed wrong. You turned your attention back to her and ran your tongue up her again. Trying to aim deeper as you did. Your hands gripped her onto her thighs as her hips bucked into your face. Your fingers teased over her clit causing her to gasp. You continued to eat her out. Your teeth scraping against her as you circled your tongue.

You let one finger enter the older woman. Curling it. Her breath hitched as she breathed out your name, her head rolling before you knew it. You kept your eyes on her reactions. One of her hands left the counter and she reached down and grabbed you free hand. You stared for a moment as your fingers locked with the older woman's. She squeezed your hand as you added another two fingers. She squirmed. Rolling her hips in you hand to meet your movements fast paced. Suddenly, You stilled. Her eyes snapped open, Panting she looked to you. "Do not be a bitch." she growled as she watched your smirk. You felt her inner wall contract and removed your fingers. Gobsmacked, the brown eyed woman looked like she was seconds away from slapping you. You licked her juice's off your fingers. Breathing heavily, Avis licked her lips.

You leaned foreword with innocent eyes. Your nails scratched the back of her thighs making the older woman tremble. "Beg, Avis." Your eyes looked her over. She was.... So perfect in the moment. Despite her obvious anger but that just kept up the thrill. The older woman bit the inside of her cheeks. You raised an eyebrow and licked her clit. "Beg, Avis." You repeated, Looking Avis in the eyes. The older woman's eyes rolled back slightly she was already soaked enough.

Swallowing her pride, She clutched your hand tighter. "Please, darling..." She whispered and pulled you towards her. "I need you... My gorgeous girl.... Come on... help mamma out?" She continued as you gave her gentle kitten licks. You settled perfectly between her legs, using your fingers, teeth and tongue to bring her closer to the edge. The older woman was a mess. Like putty in your palms. "Yes, baby..." She moaned and her gripped the counter with her spare hand. Trying to keep herself steady. Weak moans echoed in the bathroom. You continued to rub your thumb over her clit. You didn't dare to focus on breathing. Giving your all to Avis. Her walls clenched around your fingers and tongue. Her noises drove you on. Then, without warning, Everything came crashing down. She cried your name went still above you. You let her ride out her release . You licked her clean and looked to her hand. Softening when you realised her hand was still in yours. Locked together.

You stood and held her for a moment. Keeping her close. "You did so well, baby." The older woman smirked dazed as she stroked your cheek. "Just wait until we get home." She chuckled and traced her finger over your lips. Wiping away her juices. "then you'll see just what mamma has in store for you." You went a deep shade of red and leaned into her touch. Your heart raced as her gorgeous deep eyes sucked you in. She kissed you, tasting herself on your tongue. She smiled into the kiss. Wanting to hold you for longer. It wasn't long before you helped her get changed. You had already been missing from the party for too long and you both knew it. Your heart felt like it was being torn in two when you watched her return to her husband. And leave you behind.

Ellen frowned and eyed you. "What's wrong?" She asked softly, stroking your arm. You sighed and crossed your arms. Hugging yourself, missing Avis' presence. But then you needed to remind yourself what exactly was between you both...

"I'm afraid I've fallen in love, Ellen."

。·:*:·ﾟ★,。·:*:·ﾟ☆。·:*:·ﾟ★,。·:*:·ﾟ☆。·:*:·ﾟ★,。·:*:·ﾟ☆。·:*:·ﾟ★,。·:*:·ﾟ☆。·:*:·ﾟ★

Hello darlings! I hope you enjoyed reading!

I would like to point out that I'm dyslexic so I'm sorry for any mistakes.

Is it good? How are we feeling? Tell me everything!! I'm always reading the comments and looking for your thoughts and taking them into account and they help a lot with motivation.

Lot's of love and I hope to see you in the future! 💜

(Remember to continue to thank and praise Patti Lupone in our prayers)

#avis amberg #ellen kincaid #hollywood netflix #avis amberg x reader #patti lupone #ao3 fanfic #ao3 writer #fanfiction

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simonisferal · 8 months ago

Text

you said you liked it — scaramouche x gn! reader

synopsis: he doesn't even like you that much. wait...he does. fuck.

warnings: just pure fluff, scara being scara, mutual pinning / not an established relationship, inspired by apple cider by beabodoobee (⁠ ⁠◜⁠‿⁠◝⁠ ⁠)⁠♡

notes: a little shorter than I wanted it to be but i was sleepy / i started playing my sleep playlist and i woke up instantly to write this 🫡 / not proofread but then again none of my works are so

you said you liked chocolates. scaramouche was never a sweets person anyways!

whatever you liked, whether it was plain chocolates or some fancy, expensive ones, he managed to bring them to your hands every few occasions. they were always wrapped in a soft lace, delicately delivered straight to you (he tried to ignore every other person that attempted to speak to him) just so they don't melt, he says.

if you're not picky, he even lets you eat the chocolates others gift him. why? he's not sure but food is food. he notices which sweets you ignore, eat, practically chow down on for future references. you know, in case he needs a human garbage disposal!

scaramouche doesn't stop there; he should've, but he doesn't.

"y/n. i'll leave you to it." he's vague as shit as he sets down a bag of sweets—not just any sweets, flavors and consistencies he knows you'll like—on your lap.

you eye them suspiciously. "what's the occasion? or is it another request for my talent of eating?" you somewhat joke. scara does not find you humorous.

he crosses his arms, already walking away and waving you off, dismissing the question. "you like those, don't you? go on and eat then before i change my mind."

you said you liked handmade gifts. scaramouche was gifted with craftsmanship, fortunately.

he held a sewing needle, slipping the thread in through the small hole and tied it. he ignored your attentive gaze at his hands. he skillfully worked, fixing up a patch on a shirt you had ripped. why was a piece of clothing so important? you had plenty of other things to wear (more than you'd like to admit but he can basically see your closet from his room).

your eyes never left the male's work while he finished. he snaps the thread and places the needle somewhere on his table. "there. you happy?" he lifts up the shirt and you quickly take it in your arms.

"thank you, thank you, thank you!!" you hold the simple clothing item close to your chest and scaramouche can't help but wonder why.

he scoffs, standing up and beginning to clean up after his simple task. "i don't know why you're so stuck up on a shirt; you have plenty of others."

you laugh. folding the shirt and setting it on your lap, you look at scara. "well i don't expect you to remember but this one's actually yours."

"and why do you have one of my shirts?" he refutes.

"because i like it." such a bold sentence coming from a person who ripped the fabric a few minutes ago but scaramouche accepts it. he sighs after a while—and after cleaning up his mess, he waves you off again.

he can't seem to say no to you, it's infuriating. "just don't stain it. i might need it later."

you said you liked nice guys. too bad scaramouche is not that. but hey, a personality change never hurt anybody. besides you deserve it—not many people can tolerate him at his highest.

he, besides giving you simple gifts, gave you words of encouragement. if you ever wanted to pursue anything (as stupid as it may be), he'll support you... even if that said support consists of constant berating and complaints, he's not going to stop your idiotic yet passionate mind.

"go on." he mutters, his eyes only on you as you attempt to do something stupid again. holding a brush up to a canvas, you merely scribble the page with a terrible artistic view. a red sky, a pink tree, a rose ocean—just what was your idea?

"you can't be colorblind, can you? if you aren't, this is just plain embarrassing for us both." you pout, not turning to see his assumed look of 'i told you so'.

you attempt painting again, just adding a few more splashes of color onto the 'ruined' canvas. "you wouldn't get it, scara. it's simply an artistic thing!"

he scoffs, like he always does, before sitting up from his chair and looking over your shoulder. not too many details were added but the pink tree had blossomed quite well and the rose ocean finally looked like a simple mirage rather than an actual pink-colored ocean. "not bad," he mutters.

"could be a whole ton better but who's judging?" scaramouche teases. you narrow your eyes at him with a pout,

"you are!"

you said you liked cheesy, romantic dates. it was a stupid request to fulfill, honestly. you practically bored him on the way there. but like always, he can't say no to such a pretty face.

it wasn't at all what he was expecting. he expected (with someone as terrible taste as you) to be lead towards a fast food chain or a crowded, elegant place.

it was a small picnic at the beach.

you two sat under a tree for a while, just conversing with each other. "what are you planning, y/n?" scaramouche raises an eyebrow and looks at you. you just looked back at him with a smile, a smile he wish didn't make his heart burn by just looking at it. "it's a surprise." so vague. too vague for the male.

he scoffs. it's obvious he wants to ask more questions but he doesn't have the heart to interrupt such a peaceful moment between the two of you. he just sits quietly beside you, watching the sun fade, the chocolates melts, the petals from the tree—a cherry blossom tree, he noted, fall down, and the breeze grow sweeter.

the sun hit scaramouche like an angel. his violet eyes looked like they were glowing like stars. he looked heavenly. his lips look soft, his hair was well-volumed, his presence was so fulfilling. he was so... perfect. "y/n, you can stop staring."

"i know," you whisper back. when did you suddenly become so sentimental? the jig was up.

the chocolates you loved so much, the 'date' you wanted so badly was there. what else did you want, what else did you like? "what is it?"

"you're nice. you're a nice guy."

scaramouche scoffs, "so?"

"i like nice guys." you both stayed quiet for a while. your eyes wandered everywhere, to his eyes to his subtle frown to his outfit while scaramouche didn't dare to look away from your eyes. they had a sense of longing he never knew they could have. did he have the same look? a look of longing? longing for someone who'd be with him forever?

did he have a look of yearning? yearning for someone who'd stay and love him, like all those who promised so distantly in the past? would you stay with him if he asked? would you promise to keep your promises to him, to allow him to trust you as you do him?

so many questions and so little answers, lesser time now as he thinks all these overwhelming thoughts.

"scara?" you call out.

scaramouche didn't dare speak louder than a whisper. "yeah?"

you said you liked him.

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clairoscharm · 1 month ago

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falling fast, falling hard

pairing : ellie williams x fem!reader

warnings : blurb? drabble? idek… highschool au, hallway crush! reader, uhmmmm nothing much lol

credits : to pinterest for all the pictures & @anitalenia

✉️ : fun fact, this was inspired by a story from my moots back then! i write this thinking of them. yk who you are, ditto!

DAILY CLICK

DON’T BUY TLOU

WAYS TO HELP PALESTINE

It was only Monday, and Ellie was already having one of those mornings that felt like a personal attack from the universe. She stormed through the school’s front doors, the rubber soles of her sneakers squeaking loudly on the polished floor, drawing a few amused glances from nearby students. Ignoring them, she focused on her target: her locker.

She wrenched it open with more force than necessary, muttering curses under her breath as she grabbed her chemistry books. They’d been sitting there since last week—a deliberate decision to avoid carrying extra weight in her already overloaded backpack. Brilliant plan, Ellie. Now she was out of time and scrambling.

Staying up until 2 a.m. playing the new Nintendo game Joel had bought her for her birthday had been pure bliss last night. The adrenaline, the triumph of leveling up—it had all felt worth it. Until now.

Now, every second felt like a reminder of her own terrible life choices. She shoved the books into her bag, slammed the locker shut, and bolted toward the staircase, determined to make it to class before the bell but the clock ticking down to a certain tardiness.

That was when disaster struck.

Ellie rounded the corner and charged up the stairs, her mind too preoccupied with excuses for her teacher to notice you coming down in the opposite direction.

The collision was immediate and catastrophic. Ellie barely registered the impact before her grip slipped, her books and files flying out of her arms in a chaotic explosion.

She barely had time to react before her own foot slipped on a stray sheet of paper. With a startled yelp, Ellie lost her balance and went down, her back hitting the stairs as she slid a few steps before coming to a stop.

Pain radiated through her shoulder and hip as she groaned, staring at the mess of papers littering the stairwell like confetti.

"Fuck..." she muttered, her face burning with embarrassment as she tried to sit up, rubbing her sore shoulder.

"Shit! I’m so, so sorry!" a panicked voice exclaimed. Ellie looked up and froze.

Can this day get any worse? She thought bitterly.

Of course, it had to be you—her hallway crush. Or, let’s be real, her crush in general. Denying it was pointless, but she’d try anyway.

Ellie blinked and there you were, crouching a few steps above her, your wide eyes filled with concern. Her breath hitched for a moment.

"You’ve got to be kidding me," Ellie groaned, her frustration now aimed at the universe itself. “Seriously?”

"Yeah, I know, I'm sorry, but—wait, don’t move! Are you hurt?" your voice was laced with guilt as you crouched beside her, reaching out like you wanted to help up or give her space.

Ellie glanced at you, about to brush you off, when she noticed your hand frozen midair, hesitating. Your expression was so genuinely concerned that it softened her irritation just a little. "I’ll live," she muttered, finally sitting upright.

"Here—let me—uhh, get your stuff," you said quickly, darting to collect her scattered papers and textbook.

Ellie watched you as she stood up carefully, her irritation softening just a fraction as she took in the way you moved—quick but careful, your hair falling slightly into your face as you worked. There was something undeniably endearing about it.

“Thanks,” Ellie said grudgingly when you handed her the slightly crumpled stack.

You gave her a sheepish smile, your hand brushing hers for the briefest moment. “Maybe you should watch where you’re going,” Ellie said, her tone sharp but not entirely serious, her lips twitching despite herself.

“Could’ve avoided all this.”

You let out a nervous laugh, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “Fair. But maybe you shouldn’t sprint up the stairs like it’s the Olympics.”

Ellie’s reluctant smile broke through. “Touché.”

She adjusted her bag, glancing down at the mess you’d managed to somewhat clean up. "Guess we’re both disasters," she said, her tone lighter now.

"Speak for yourself," you shot back with a grin, stepping back. “Try not to fall again, yeah?” you teased before walking away, leaving Ellie stunned.

Ellie blinked, caught off guard by the sudden surge of confidence in your voice. She opened her mouth to retort, but you were already turning to leave, your steps light and unbothered.

As Ellie stared after you, heat crept up her neck and into her cheeks. "Try not to fall again," she muttered under her breath, a weak attempt to mimic your tone. "Yeah, right."

Falling on the ground? Sure, she’d work on that. But not falling for you? Too late for that.

That ship had sailed before she even hit the stairs.

#dyn’s | writings ᝰ.ᐟ #dyn’s | moodboards ˖⋆࿐໋#ellie williams #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams fluff #ellie williams drabble #ellie williams x female reader #ellie williams x y/n #ellie williams x you #ellie williams fanfic #ellie williams blurb #moodboards #messy moodboard #moodboard

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medullamindset · 1 month ago

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SOME HC'S ABT THIS FUGLY MAN 💗

Uhh no tw's i dont think? Also this is my opinion so if u dont agree w smth.. Ok ^^ idc!! :)

(Also some of these hc's (like 3) are inspired by sunlit6279 on here, their Loris hc's were like the only popular ones when i read them so i injected those into my veins and ran with it yay)

SFW AND NSFW!

• Hes so tall.. Taller than Steb, whom is taller than caitlyn, whom is 6'0 (1'88 cm's) AND wearing heels. I'll say hes around 200 cm's, which is like 6'6.. yeah...

• I feel like hes kinda clingy but not in a "Pissing all by yourself, handsome?" Way but more so that he just follows you around silently and subconsiously, hes always gotta be in the same room as you, no matter what ur doing. Exept maybe pissing.

• adding to that i think he'd love showering together, as previously stated hes like huge so unless ur shower is magic only one of u is getting wet at a time lol.

but hes perfectly fine with shivering in the corner, as long as he gets to just admire you and lather you up himself, he'll gladly wash ur hair for you 💗💗

• But PLEASE RETURN THE FAVOUR OMG. Scratch at his scalp with a fruity shampoo and hes a goner, zooked, in pure bliss, ascending. Sighing contently with his eyes closed.

• saw someone else on here (sunlit6279) mention that he probably has a bit of a kink for scents. As a homeless drinker himself i doubt he smells that nice often, and booze sure as shit doesnt. But then you come into his life, lingering in his nostrils, and he just cant get enough. I feel like its the sweet smells that get him.. Marschmellow, sugary pastries, flowers, wild berries and chocolaty scents, that kinda stuff got him weak.

• He'll nudge his nose right against the pulse point of your neck and just inhale, wherever you are, whatever you're doing. Or your wrist right before kissing your palm tenderly.

• Physical touch and acts of service!! LOVE LOVE LOVES CUDDLING. ANY POSITION. ITS THE BEST TO HIM. please just cradle his head and scratch his hair n beard. Please.

He'll do practically anything you ask him to. Feet hurting? Massage. Need tampons/pads? What size pussy, babes?😽 ur hungry? Sandwich :3 wanna take over the world? Whatever you say beautiful. ☺️

...Want him to cum inside? Oh thank god.. He was close to doing that already..

• Hes def really sensitive when it comes to intimacy, everywhere. Hes a grunter, grunts and heavy pants. In the crook of your neck, behind your shoulder, into your hair, forehead touching forehead, depends on the position. God i want him so bad.

• he a munch. Loves eating you out no matter what ur sex is. He gets so sloppy with it, licking up and down ur hole like a thirsty mutt, shaking his head side to side as you cum, teasing ur nipples with his thick fingers.

Speaking of, have y'all SEEN how big his hands are compared to Vi's? Whom is like an 'average sized' person. His hands would swallow yours whole, hold his pinkie or something its probably easier.

•Hes FIT too, broad shoulders, lean back, biceps and thighs bigger than ur head.. Slutty lil waist. after a nice shower he'll wrap u up burrito style in a towel and carry you bridal style to your bedroom to get dressed (⁎˃ᴗ˂⁎)

• On a more domestic note he loves your cooking, even if you kinda suck he still appreciates it so much. And if your great at it hes grabbing seconds.. And thirds.

He would love to help you around in the kitchen aswell, hes a terrible cook himself, but he knows how to chop an onion ok? He'd much rather do it himself than see you cry from it. He knows ur not actually sad, but he doesnt want his babys eyes to sting :((

• Loves petnames so much!!!!!!!! He'll call you things like beautiful/handsome or gorgeous at the end of a sentence. But also uses hun or honey regularily.. Sometimes he will let a 'mama' slip, but not in a weird way. Especially if you have kids already or are pregnant you're his pretty mama, okay? OKAY?.

• i love his SINGULAR mattlock dangling over his forehead. I think its a mattlock anyway, it doesnt look like a regular braid at all.

Lol i just know he'd let u use him as ur personal fidget toy, i'd flick that thing all day, watch it dangle around and smack him in the eye LMAO

--------------------------------------------

(HI!! Im probably gonna make a part 2 cuz i most likely have ALOT more to say abt him but uh i just brainfarted so have this 🤲 also hihi my askbox is open so go ahead and yap if u wanna. Fic ideas, headcanons, literally anything. Im probably gonna toot out some Steb hc's aswell cuz i have a few and i need that fishstick bad.)

#loris x reader #arcane loris #loris arcane #loris headcanons #arcane lol #arcane #arcane league of legends #arcane headcanons #i love him #i'll be his controversially young wife (◕‿◕)

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pinkmirth · 10 months ago

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❤︎ ⋆ ࣪ ˖ 𝒞𝐻ℰ𝑅𝑅𝒴-𝒫𝐼𝒞𝒦𝐼𝒩𝒢!

𝒮𝑌𝒩𝒪𝒫𝒮𝐼𝒮 ⨾ a little looksie into the castlevania men and their particular preferences . . . aka, the unavoidable “ass or tits” question!

𝒞𝒪𝒩𝒯𝒜𝐼𝒩𝒮 ⨾ ( 800+ words of . . . ) multi!castlevania men x fem!reader (black coded); adrian ‘alucard’ tepes, trevor belmont, richter belmont, isaac laforeze, hector forgemaster, count olrox, mizrak, & vlad ‘dracula’ tepes; missionary, doggy, mutual masturbation, thigh-fucking, bdsm (spanking), explicit language, lowercase intended, minors shoo!

𝑀𝒴 𝐿𝒪𝒱𝐸 𝐿𝐸𝒯𝒯𝐸ℛ! ⨾ yes, i am being trivial and shallow because it’s fun & that’s a good enough reason! inspired by this post here; i just had to whip up something for our favorite wallachian men >.< please enjoy, and thanks for reading! 🎀

𝒜𝐿𝑈𝒞𝒜𝑅𝒟!

it’s far too obvious, i think; but he loves. him. some. boobies! adrian’s a tits man through and through, even if he’s got too much decorum to admit it. his actions say it all, though— he loves to lick them, knead them, tease your nipples with his teeth, rest his head between them, gently cup either one whenever he’s embracing you from behind . . . he’ll even motorboat them if he’s feeling naughtier than usual. now, that’s all out of pure habit. intimately, though? slotting his twitchy cock between your boobs is surely his favorite; and then there’s those times when he’s got you laid upon your back while he's situated between your spread legs, fucking into you from above. his cold palms lie at your waist, grip going tight whenever you squeeze around his pulsing dick, and his golden eyes are glued to your breasts like it’s all they’re good for. the way they bounce and jiggle with his pace is nothing short of mesmerizing. coming all over them in the end will make him lose his fucking head. whether it’s an unaddressed mommy kink or otherwise, he just can’t get enough of you (and the girls!) let him suck your titties and his entire day is made.

𝒯𝑅𝐸𝒱𝑂𝑅!

ass. completely, absolutely, undeniably, ass. he’ll smack it, eat it, grope it, anything. trevor pinches your butt whenever he wants a rise out of you, just to see how much you’ll blow up at him. (so what he finds it cute, sue him!) and, smacks at it whenever you’re feeding him an attitude. if he starts grabbing at it with rough palms, you already know what he wants; to fuck your shit up. unexpectedly, doggy’s the first position he’ll think to fold you into once you reach that bed. trevor curves over your arched frame, grinning at the ripple of your asscheeks against his pelvis. he’ll spit pure fucking venom into your ear while you take him. seals it off with coating your plump, pretty ass with his seed. the happiest man alive, he now is.

𝑅𝐼𝒞𝐻𝒯𝐸𝑅!

both! there are men out there who simply can’t bring themselves to choose, because both are far too precious; and richie’s one of them. how could you even expect him to pick? both parts of you are so soft, round, and feminine . . . if you allow him to get his hands on either, he wouldn’t mind in the slightest. this belmont’s skilled with his hands, might i add; his breast massages make you slump into him whine for more, and spankings don’t even feel like a punishment with him. as long as he can kiss down your body, mark the canvas of your flesh, and caress anything you’ve got in a pair of two, rich’s all yours.

𝐼𝒮𝒜𝒜𝒞!

thighs! it isn’t exactly a given option, but then again, this man isn't like the others. he loves the fullness of them, how warm to the touch they are whenever he rests a hand at your lap, and finds them to be the greatest pillow the entire world could offer. you stroking at his smooth scalp while he nudges his face into your thighs is his idea of paradise. speaking of, this man is king of thigh-fucking!!!! slots his cock in between the warmth of your inner thighs, urges you to keep them closed tight, and makes a mess of them by the time he’s done. his cum releases in streams, and spurts out to drip down your lap. but don’t worry, his tongue’s already out; as a gentleman, isaac always makes sure to clean up his messes.

𝐻𝐸𝒞𝒯𝒪ℛ!

tits! they’re perfectly squishy, which helps considering that he’s got loads of stress to rid himself of. one-finger less isn’t stopping him from giving the girls their much deserved attention! he’s slipping under your bra, brushing past your nipples, and kneading the mounds like he’s got nothing better to do. you know what’s his favorite thing to do with you and the girls? having you on your back with him kneeling above you, desperately tugging at his cock right before your face. you bring a hand down to swipe at your clit and match his pace; god, he swears you’re drooling. you suckle at his tip, and it’s enough stimulation to bring him to his peak. he’s then cumming all over your chest, some reaching your spit-streaked lips. has he ever mentioned how beautiful you look this way?

𝐵𝒪𝒩𝒰𝒮!

dracula simply adores thighs! a man of culture, this one is. as for olrox, he loves him some (man) titties. a nice, broad and firm chest is enough to put a smile on his face and a tent in his pants. then there’s mizrak, the ass-lover. grabbing it is his favorite past-time >.<

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storiesfromafan · 3 months ago

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Chaos - Draco x Reader

A/N: so I am finally posting a Draco one shot. Thank the lovely Sabrina Carpenter for this, as Taste inspired me 😂

I am feeling really inspired by both Sabrina and Taylor Swift. I have an idea for imgonnagetyouback for Mattheo, which will have a choose happy or f' you ending haha.

If anyone has any songs that could inspire me, or have you coming up with an idea, please share them and I'll give writing them a go 😊

Warning: use of the word shag, not really language but bitchiness. Mean spirit. Sass is real.

Slytherin's are known for being territorial. And if you so much as touch, speak to or glance to long at a Slytherin's partner, you better get out of Hogwarts asap. Or deal with the consequences. The worst being the females. They are never to be trifled with, because those girls aren’t afraid to use their fangs. Either you will be physically dealt with, or your reputation would become null avoided. You will be the low of the low, a blimp on a social map. Moaning Myrtle will have more social standing then you.

But put female Slytherin vs female Slytherin, and it is pure chaos. And you like chaos. Live and breath to deliver it. Which brings us to current events. Draco and Pansy had broken up a few months ago. Of course being one to despise the annoying leach, that Pansy is, you were there for Draco. And in the process got to have your fun with him. Which in fact was fun for him too, as I quote ‘Pansy was always clingy and annoying. She barely did anything for me, I hardly wanted to touch her' end quote.

You obliged poor Draco. Sneaking off to snog in empty classrooms or halls. Light and heavy petting. Not to mention some interesting places to shag. He might not have been number one in that department – cough Mattheo Riddle cough – but Draco was top three. And you just know there were rumours flying around – maybe partially from your own mouth – and dear, dreary Pansy had to have heard about them. In fact you hoped she did. You welcome the chaos that will bring. She needed to be brought down a peg.

You woke up this morning, showered, done your hair and make up, like usual. And you chose today to drop the shit storm that you had been scheming. The day before Pansy had been a royal c you next Tuesday. The tipping point being making you fall from your broom, thankfully you hadn’t been too high off the ground. Prior to that it had been a lot of passive aggressive comments. So, you knew you had to finally give it to her.

Moving to your uniform on the bed, you smiled sweetly as you imagined how this was going to go down. One of your room mates called out you would be late for breakfast if you don’t hurry. Without missing a beat you up on the skirt and button up shirt, followed by your tie, socks and shoes. Choosing to for go your cardigan, you needed your choices to have full effect. With one last look at yourself, you grabbed your bag and headed to the Great Hall.

You noticed the looks you got from those in passing. And when you made it to breakfast, the looks you got only intensified. Yet no one said anything. Your room mates looked to you, then each other and then back to you. But remained quiet. They knew there was a reason for your uniform today. But decided to not ask questions, this way they wouldn’t be implemented in your scheme.

You knew people were whispering to each other, but never addressed you about it. Not even from your walk from the Great Hall to your first class; Transfiguration. By the time you arrived to class everyone was there except for a couple of late shows. You walked into the room, eyes looking to you as you walked closer to the front were Professor McGonagall stood.

The older woman cast a glance to you, eyes moving on till they flew back to you. She took a couple steps forward, gaze analysing you. The way her face went from blank to slight annoyance seemed to go noticed by you. But you were about to be addressed.

“Miss (L/N)” McGonagall began, making you look to the woman just before you took your seat, and all attention on you. “What in Devils are you wearing!? Where is your uniform!?”

You faked embarrassment. “I’m so sorry Professor. I was in a rush this morning and looked to have put on the wrong shirt". Such a lair you are. But it was part of your plan.

She tsked. “Not good enough Miss (L/N). After morning classes you best change into the correct shirt".

With that the Professor turned and went to the front of the room. By now all students were present. You took your seat, feeling curious eyes upon you. Along with the whispers around you at the elephant finally being addressed.

Transfiguration was lack lustre. McGonagall just rambling on, and the persistent whispers about you. Finally free, you exited the classroom with your room mates. Unfortunately, yet perfectly planned, just down the hall was your target: Pansy. She was with both Draco and Blaise. As you approached, about to pass, did she make her presence known.

Turning to her two companions, yet gaze on you, Pansy spoke rather loudly. “How scandalous to be wearing a males shirt. I wouldn’t dare advertise my escapades".

Perfect. She took the bait. You smiled, stopping to turn to the three. “What escapades would you have to advertise? From my knowledge you weren’t one for really that much".

The students who just happened to be around for the interaction snickered. Pansy's face flushing in embarrassment. Ah, how you felt some satisfaction. But wanted – needed more, hoping she would fire up. And you got your wish.

Turning to glare at you, hands on her hips. Pansy relied, “what I get up to is no ones business!”

“Hmmm" you mused. “Really? Again, I know first hand you don’t get up to much dear".

If smoke could have come out of ears, Pansy's would be going off. She sputtered with words before finally getting out, “well at least I don’t wear some random guy’s shirt!”

Ah, the magic words you had been hoping for. Leaning in, biggest grin on your face, you said; “oh it’s no random guy’s. I know exactly who's shirt this is...”

Pansy looked to you with baited breath. So you went on.

“Maybe you should check Draco's closet sometime. Either he’ll be missing a shirt, or he may have one of mine. I don’t know, I haven’t counted my shirts lately". Your tone was sickeningly sweet, like honey.

If looks could kill, you’d be dead. Pansy looked like she wanted blood. Draco stood behind her, having watched and heard it all, looking fearful of the two of you. For you see, it had been almost two weeks since they’d gotten back together. Though you didn’t believe for long.

“Why you-" Pansy began before you hushed her.

“Now, now Pansy" you slightly sang, leaning in so she could hear you. “Every time you close your eyes, and feel his lips, you’re feeling mine. And every time you breathe his air just know I was already there”.

Pansy watched you, taking in your words. It was simple truth you were spilling. And she hated it.

You stepped back, wicked smile on your lips. “You can have him if you like. I’ve been there, done that once or twice" you shrugged. “I know I’ve been known to share". Finally sealing it all with a cheeky wink.

With that you turned around and began to move on to your next class. Letting your words sink into the retched girl. And when you reached the end of the hall did you hear her shrill, angry cry. Ah, music to your ears. The sheer joy you felt right now. Knowing how you burst Pansy’s bubble was the perfect chaos for the day.

You know she would come for you. Physically or verbally. Either way, you were here for it. Ready to go to battle. Only downfall was poor Draco, being collateral damage. But you know he would get over it, or you’d let him get over you to make up for it.

Unbuttoning the collar button to Draco's shirt and loosening your tie, you kept making your way to class. A shit eating grin on your face, and pep in your step. Chaos really was one of your best past times.

#Draco malfoy x reader #draco x reader #Draco x reader #draco one shot #Draco x Fem!reader

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gaypleasantview · 3 months ago

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⋆˖⁺‧₊☆ shake the disease. // Autumn Drop Day 5 ☆₊‧⁺˖⋆

⋆ 2 mesh add-ons for Ladysimplayer8's 4t2 City Living Keyboard

⋆ floor version (60 poly) and wall version (68 poly), originally created by PixlMonster

⋆ 43 recolors in 512x512 textures

⋆ all files have been compressed and clearly labeled

Link, swatch, detailed credits and more info under the cut ♡

Hi people! Welcome to yet another thing I've made, and this one was a real pain in the ass sometimes but also an actually fun and rewarding experience! Just like my last upload, this one was inspired by @gothoffspring's very pretty pictures. I wanted to have whatever they're having, and it caused me to get into the intricacies of repositorying stuff, and damn was it hard, but it was all worth it in the end! The last few times I checked, this thing worked with absolutely no problems, but please do let me know if it starts pulling shit again.

Okay, let's get to the details now. I clearly got intrigued by the keyboard, and thanks to the absolutely priceless 4t2 conversion database, I found out that it has already been converted by Ladysimplayer8 on MTS, as was tons of other 4t2 stuff. It's a fully functional keyboard, too! To be honest, I first edited the mesh a bit to fit my preferred game style (separated the recolors + added a shadow), but the first time I thought to check the original creator's TOU was literally just now, and I realized too late they don't allow their meshes to be edited and posted, so I'll have to keep it to myself. However, all the other stuff I did was actually converted directly from TS4, so of course I'm sharing it!

The wall and floor add-ons are purely decorative, having been cloned from wall objects, but I find them to be super cute. You can find them in Hobbies.../Creative right next to the actual thing. They share the original's room rating and cost a little less, but still a reasonable amount of §700 because it is a keyboard, dammit.

As both of the add-ons are repositoried to the original, they will share whatever recolors the playable keyboard has. I decided to recolor them in options by gothoffspring and MsFrankenstein because they were all very pretty. I tried to clearly label every swatch but sometimes it's brain breaking (some of them turned out to look a little different in-game, too) so I sincerely hope the names all make sense!

Credits: base object by Ladysimplayer8 on MTS, mesh add-ons by @pixlmonster, recolors by @gothoffspring and @msfrankenstein910, this source for the graphics in the post

♡ Download ♡

As per creator's TOU, mesh (LSP8DigiRADKeyboardMesh) is not included, you will have to get it here. The add-ons won't work without it.

SFS | Mediafire

♡ Swatch ♡

⋆ 19 recolors by gothoffspring (original)

⋆ 24 recolors by MsFrankenstein910 (original)

#s2cc #my cc #sims 2 cc #ts2cc #4t2 conversion #4t2 #im actually a little pissed right now but im not gonna explicitly say why. but it's fine i really love this one tbh #the creators did an amazing job i just wish i wasnt jared 19

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victoria-grimesss · 1 year ago

Text

tear you apart - part I

masterlist

->Pairing: König x fem!reader

->Words: 2.2k

->Warning: sexual thoughts, use of Y/N, close proximity, and tension, eventual smut

->Summary: König is kinda mean, dark and a little possessive but it’s all in good fun! A new girl catches the colonel's eyes, and he won’t let her go. Inspired by my favorite song Tear you Apart by She Wants Revenge.

->A/N: please let me know what ya’ll think, this is my first time writing anything spicy so im open to feedback. Also my requests are always open :)

The base is cold as it should be at this time of year, you transferred from the states to the Austrian KorTac base against your own wishes, you are a specialized stealth agent that the higher ups thought could be a valued member to the KorTac team. Wishing to be back in the sun but alas your new skies are clouded and mean.

It is what it is, you thought to yourself, lacing your boots, and emerging from your room. It’s always a weird adjustment process when you transfer to a new base, learning the way around like learning a new maze each time. The people were friendly enough although you didn’t know if it was because you were a new soldier or just because you were a new pretty face around that hadn’t heard any rumors about the seedy guys and their proclivities.

Altogether you have heard one rumor,

One big, tall, menacing rumor.

König

“The king”

Curiosity killed the cat and God help you, all you wanted was to know if what they said was true. Before you left for transfer you heard whispers when they found out where you were going.

“She’ll be miserable under his watch.”

“He’ll have her running laps and doing reps the first day for sure.”

“He’ll eat her alive.”

Did these whispers make her shiver? Yes

Did these whispers make her restless? Yes

Did these whispers make her ache in anticipation? Absolutely.

It’s been a long while since the last body occupied her bed, a touch a century ago, a kiss eons ago. All these fairy tales about this big, tall strong man that could throw her two football fields didn’t help her desperation at all.

She knew these thoughts weren’t appropriate, sleeping with a superior was frowned upon. He was probably married and happy, men like that don’t stay on the market for long. And from the stories she heard she obviously has no shot with him.

She rounded a corner from the barracks and exited to the outside courtyard, the air nipping at her skin. Dark clouds looms and the trees are barren of leaves ready for life anew. Approaching the main building the smell of sweat and metal entered her nose making way to the meeting room.

——

The debriefing was the same as all the others, the captain explaining what to do and who goes where. She nearly fell asleep until the doorknob turned, that’s weird, usually people don’t barge into these things halfway through… unless they’re king of the castle.

He enters the room, his aura dominating those around him. His stature is something to behold, well over six feet of pure muscle. He could break me over his knee like a glowstick and I wouldn’t be able to do anything about it…

He stalks into the room greeting the captain, his voice it deep and dark and you want to hear more of it.

His gear makes him all that bulkier, his mask concealing his face and yea, if I were the enemy and I saw him running towards me I would definitely shit my pants.

He stands at the front of the room observing everyone in it and maintaining concentration on the presentation the captain is giving for the next mission. You try your hardest to maintain the same concentration but he’s just so tall and all the rumors are true he’s an enigma. You find your eyes drinking him in, from his shoes to the metal plates on his shins, to his..oh god… his broad broad shoulders. You imagine taking your hands and tracing over them feeling the thick muscles underneath his war-torn skin as you bring your hands lower-

He shifts in place.

Your eyes quickly dart away then to his eyes, his eyes locked on yours like a predator watching his prey.

You immediately break into a sweat, his eyes like a spotlight and they don’t move from you.

You look again to see if he’s still looking, he tilts his head a bit to the side and raises an eyebrow teasingly. Shit. oh no he’s hot. Like really hot.

Shifting in your seat, nervous beads of sweat dripping down your neck, the meeting is coming to a close and people start tucking in their chairs. König is still standing by the door, his eyes still locked on yours, I wonder what he’s thinking. I mean, surely if he’s a married man he wouldn’t be looking at me so hard….right? Maybe no one told him you were transferring so he’s just confused on who the fuck is this new girl in here I didn’t approve this. By now most of everyone has left the room, the projector is turned off, the map put away, the captain gone. You move your gaze to the floor and get up and tuck in your chair, clearing your throat, now realizing how eerily quiet the room is and you haven’t heard König make a noise since he greeted the captain. You make your way to the door, preparing to walk by him and out of the room.

An arm shoots out to block the doorway and you are forced to stop dead in your tracks keeping your eyes dead set on the long dark hallway in front of you.

“Your name soldier.” He barks, his voice smooth and dark like black coffee. The sweat beads up again and you know for a fact your face is growing hot.

“Y/N, sir.” You straighten your back and maintain my straight state.

He leans down. You can tell he’s looking at you and you raise your eyes to meet his and your heart is racing a million miles an hour and nerves are on fire you breath is uneven and you know he knows, I mean who wouldn’t be uneasy this close to him.

“I-I’m the transfer from the states sir, from the stealth unit.”

“I know who you are hübsches Mädchen, read your file. Approved your transfer myself.”

He replied, his eyes never leaving mine. He’s even more intimidating this close but something deep within you wants to reach out to him and quell this thirst for his touch.

“I appreciate you thinking me worthy to serve on this team, I won’t let you down.” You affirm with the little strength you have left. His gaze is piercing but intoxicating all the same.

He removes his hand slowly from the doorframe and straightens his back standing at his full height again. His begins again,

“Training at 0700 tomorrow morning be there, I’d like to see you demonstrate some maneuvers see if you need any additional training. I will be watching closely, do not disappoint me.” His arms are crossed now and he’s even larger than before.

“Yes, of course sir, I’ll be there.”

“I look forward to it.” His tone is light now, maybe even teasing.

You swear you saw him wink but maybe it was just the lighting and how it hit his mask.

“Well run along kleiner Hase; you need your beauty sleep after all.” He motions to the hallway and you take quick steps back to your room, cheeks still hot and breath still quick. It was going to be difficult to have him as your commanding officer.

——

Sleep didn’t come easy, tossing and turning and thinking about the way König devoured you with his eyes made you sweat and frankly being that close to him and replaying that moment over and over again didn’t help with your insomnia. You thought of him a lot that night, more than once, enough to make your hand cramp up. By the time it was daylight you were running off 4 hours of sleep and a large coffee you picked up from the mess hall. You trudged your way over to the main building again where the gym and training room was, once again passing through the courtyard.

The trees are still barren, and you almost slip on the sleet left on the pathway cursing to yourself and hoping to god no one saw.

The gym smells musty, the air vents clearly working overtime since the gym has some activity. A couple groups of pairs work on sparing on the far side and others work out alone. You walk over to the mats and stand to the side watching the two pairs fight for the upper hand, takedown training great, you knew how to do it most of the time on missions you were equipped with a silenced pistol and other quieter tools. Stealth takedowns are your forte but it can’t hurts to get more practice with face to face takedowns.

The fight with the two are done and you were too busy thinking to hear your voice being called.”

“Sergeant L/N!, to the mat.” König barked, his authority shaking the ground, not the best first impression on training day.

You apologize quickly and step onto the mat, your opponent being someone a bit taller than you but not by much, a weight to weight equal, should be easy enough.

König’s eyes watch you as you grapple with the opponent twisting his arm and throwing him over your shoulder onto the mat, you brace your knee on his neck and apply a small amount of pressure, the opponent taps out. He won’t lie, König felt his pants get tight from seeing you work so effectively. Your work is certainly good, he won’t lie, taking down someone so easily.

“Again, another.” He barks once more, his accent thick.

You take down another three opponents, you clearly are growing restless from the muscle exertion and signal to take a break. König watches with amusement.

“A break? What if this was real combat kleiner Hase, will you beg your advisories to adjourn their dissatisfaction for you? Beg them for a time out?” By now he’s stepped onto the mat with you, today he’s shed the outer layer of his gear just wearing his mask and usual military uniform, he still looks just as hot.

“There’s no time for breaks out there as you know, and when you come up with a larger enemy you must be able to take them down as well.”

Fuck.

He wants you to take HIM down, your muscles are already weak from the last three fights he surly knows you’ve exerted yourself right? Right?!

“Go on schatz, I’ll let you make the first move.” His voice has an edge of teasing to it and you want to rip off his mask and see the smirk you know he’s displaying.

You huff

“Very well sir.”

You move to grapple his middle trying to take out his legs, he’s sturdy like a tree and you think if you can take out his legs he’ll go down like one. He budges only slightly when you hit on a pressure point and just when he’s moving and you think you’ve gain the upper hand he sweeps your legs from underneath you and has you pinned. Your wrists are bound by one of his hands above you head and he’s got both of his very thick thighs straddling you.

Your face grows hot at your defeat, especially all your other coworkers seeing it too. But it burns even hotter when he comes down close to your ear and whispers to you,

“You look very pretty underneath me schatz, so pretty when you are short of breath.” He laughs, that bastard.

You can’t admit it but your panties grow damp at his words and your body is on fire, although to those around you it just looks like you’ve over exerted yourself with a tad too much training.

König stand, his height from down here is astonishing. He reaches a hand down and lifts you to your feet but he’s so strong you accidentally collide with his chest before taking a quick step back. You mumble an apology.

“You fight well L/N, no doubt you will be a fine addition to this team. Although you will need to know how to take down large adversaries so I can help you with additional training of course.”

He holds his hand for you to shake it and you meet him halfway, his large hand grips yours and you get a flashback to feeling it wrapped tightly around your wrists, you shiver.

König’s gaze casts down upon you, no woman has yet to capture his attention the way you have. Many have tried. Thrown themselves at him in an unsavory manner, but you, oh you’re different. He admires the way you speak to him, although not many words have been exchanged between the two of you he prays there are more.

Your hair, your eyes, your body, all of it has entranced him and the moment he laid eyes on you, the others know. The way his gaze is steady and dark on you the others know you’re off limits. He yearns to learn more of you, to hear of your history as he strips your clothes off one article at a time under the dim lights of his office. He must be patient though. You are like a deer, scared in the spotlight and he must not spook you, he stands still until you come to him. For now he stares.

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