#991 words for SOME REASON

[mercenarymage]

A Dance of Ice and Snow

[Dancer Mastery Drabble]

It was a legend passed down from village to village, from fisherman to mercenary. A myth that defied the long-standing history of human and dragon - a proof that a world with kindness once was achievable. 

He remembers the tale when he was young, when he scaled the snowy path towards the mountaintop. When snow was met with joy, with a wonder and curiosity he hardly believes he was once able to express.

In the clearing, he recalls the offerings were provided by the village. By his family, by the elders, even him, he's sure, in his own way. It was a show of trust to the one who once lived here. A humble request for them to return to the mountain it once called home.

Apparently, the villages neighboring the mountain continued this tradition, year by year. But, as Hugh aged, he grew upset about the yearly tradition. He kicked and yelled and told his grandmother that he wouldn't go. He didn't want to climb that chilly mountain anymore.

He didn't want to get caught in the snow.

The years would continue by, kept afar from that looming mountain. Yet, no matter where Hugh traveled, no matter how much he fled, the story managed to follow him. It travels by word of mouth. It follows the sails guided by the ocean breeze, as sailors speak of the legend. He finds the tale among the chatter at the town's local tavern. He hears it whispered among the travelers during a ride across the countryside. 

"That dragon was kind to humans."

That's what they say, that's what they know.

"But that dragon left the mountain."

Because of the Scouring, the war that drove them away from home. 

Today, Hugh knows now that it's possible for humans and dragons to exist. He knows that there is kindness hidden behind the violence of war, and thanks to the help of the fiery haired employer of his, a lonely girl is saved from being destroyed altogether.

It should have been left at that. He should have moved on to other work, found someone else to line his pockets with gold. He should never returned to that mountain.

Yet, he finds himself there, shivering from the cold.

It's nearing summer at the least. He doesn't need to fear that a sudden snowstorm will block his path back - even if his racing mind warns otherwise. The setting sun makes for a beautiful sight, too. In the distance, he can spot the several villages that reside around the mountain.

There are still remnants of the offerings placed last year. Charms and trinkets offered to appease the one who once resided in the cavern nearby. Flowers and food once were placed here as well, but with time, most had eroded away from the icy cold and snow.

He's stupid for being here. He tells himself so. There's nothing that this dragon has ever done for him. They were gone long before he was born, maybe even before his parents were.

And yet, Hugh wonders how these lands would have fared with the dragon around. Stories tell that the dragon was a protector. Someone who helped the villages through the harshest of winters.

If that was the case, then could the dragon have...?

Hugh shakes his head. There was no fairness in imagining what-ifs. It was humanity's fault that this dragon had to flee. That these lands no longer were safe enough to be called home. That the dragon was forced to hide in a land afar.

Even so, he's reminded of them. Of the bits and pieces he can recall, it's the ones him scaling this mountaintop long ago that shine through. About the gentle nip the cold air brings, that sort that's met with irritation, not fear. About the smile of those he no longer can complete the faces of. Who took his hands, and gently brought him to this clearing to witness the tradition firsthand.

...and, that's right. There were more than just physical offerings. When the whole village had put their heart into showing they cared, performers spoke of their longing of the dragon through song. The stage was set so everyone and anyone could follow the along, their footsteps searching to bring comfort to the dragon left to flee on their own.

Subconsciously, he takes a couple of steps of his own. It was a lonely walk that this dragon made. The songs that illustrated that were far from happy, weren't they? His younger self never quite caught on. Back then, it was all fun and games for him. A joy shared with those he cared about.

Another thing lost, in that buried mass of snow.

A few more steps are taken. He's been to plenty of bars and taverns that have entertainment. Plenty where he can watch someone dance, or was even encouraged to dance along. But here, it was very different. It was dark, cold, with little signs of life. He was alone, but...

But as his steps slow, it reminds him of a journey taken long ago. Away from comforts, away from a place once called home-

-something that, although under very different circumstances, he took some time ago.

Hugh doesn't speak of the time that he travelled to this mountain. He doesn't speak of the snowy lands that was once his home. Conversations about his parents are few - he avoids taking about his grandmother, unless he's in a serious need of convincing someone to support his grandma's so called 'ailing health'.

But on days when the town's festivals bring the monastery and the grounds surrounding it to life, or when a local establishment encourages their patrons to take the floor, it's there in his footsteps. A childlike wonder. A wish to be with family, to see their faces once more.

A yearning to find his way back to the home he knew, even when he knows that it's out of his reach.

[im-ovulating]

(A/n: I have no excuse or reason for this, but here ya go! lmao)

Word Count: 991

Summary: Even in death, Tate can't seem to shake his mother's insults. He DOES know how to make your legs shake, though.

Warnings: Praise Kink, Mommy Issues, Use of 'good boy" and 'pretty boy', Both Tate and Reader are a switch, Tate's a pretty crier

Age Rating: 18+ Minors DNI

(yes he gets 2 gifs, what about it?)

Tate Langdon x Fem! Reader: Shake

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

"-fuck!"

You spread your legs a bit more to take him deeper, both of you gasping out at the new sensation.

"I'm good, right? I'm good for you?" Tate is in shambles beneath you. A run-in with the ever-deprecating Constance left him in desperate need of some positive female praise and you couldn't just say 'no' to the tear-stained, brown eyes that begged for your comfort.

"Ah~" A smile breaks across your face as you lean down to pepper kisses along Tate's jaw. "You wanna be good for me? Wanna be my good boy, Tate, hmm?"

His cock twitches in you as you make it to his lips, lightly biting down on his bottom lip before lifting up just enough to make eye contact.

His hips jerk up to meet yours at a particularly hard thrust of your hips. "God- Yes! Wanna be so good for you! Wan' you t' use me. Use me any way you want; I'm yours! Mmh, hah."

You slide your hands up his chest to tug at his shaggy, blonde hair. "Just lay there and look pretty for me, then, hm? Can you do that for me, my sweet, pretty boy?"

He takes a second to answer, focused on how ethereal you look straddling him; using his body as you please, knowing how to bring both of you over the edge.

That's one of his favorite things about you: When he needs you to take the lead, he knows that you'll only take what you both need. That you'll command without controlling. That you understand his vulnerability and will only push him as far as he needs you to.

A groan is punched out of Tate as you clench around him, effectively snapping him out of it. "I can- ohh..."

Satisfied with his answer, you press a searing kiss to his waiting mouth. It's all tongue and teeth but neither of you care, too wrapped up in each other to mind. You slide your hands from his hair to caress his cheek.

"Such a good boy~" You singsong as you sit back, moving your arms behind you to support your weight on his thighs as you slam your hips against his with more vigor. His moans sending shock waves down your spine, settling in your already soaked core.

His hands move to grip your hips hard enough to bruise, but all it does is spur you on.

"Fuck, fuck- Please~" He shifts underneath you, causing his pelvis to rub deliciously against your clit.

"Oh god~ Tate!" Your head drops forward at the spike of pleasure.

You grab one of his hands to bring to your clit, desperate for the stimulation again.

Determined to be the best he can be for you, his finger works in tandem with every gyrate of your hips to tighten the coil forming in your core.

Ever the expert of your body, Tate helps you spiral towards your climax faster than you anticipated. You're gasping for breath as your walls start to clamp down on his cock impossibly tighter.

Tate lets out a groan at the feeling, his head pushes back against the pillow, thumb still rubbing firm circles on your clit. His eyes glisten with unshed tears as he tries not to cum.

"Don't stop baby... oh fuck, please," His plea is hoarse and gravelly as he starts to properly slam him hips up to meet yours.

"Wasn't- AH- planning on it." You let out a breathy moan as you fight the forming burn in your thighs, trying to focus on the heat curling inside you like an inferno instead.

"Oh- Fu- I'm so close baby. Please tell me you're close too." You can hear the strain in his voice. "Wanna cum with you~"

You're tensed like a rubber band being stretched to its limits as you try to keep pace. Your legs are shaking with the exertion, and you can barely lift yourself up.

"Tate- Tate, oh god, Tate!" His name is spilling from your lips like a Hail Mary in a mixture of content and desperation.

"What do you need, beautiful?" Tate pants. "Just tell me- tell me what you need from me and it's yours."

It's now that your legs decide to give out with one last quiver, dropping you against his torso. Without missing a beat, Tate flips you on your back, resting on his forearms as he takes over.

The sound of your heavy breathing fills the room along with the obscene squelching of Tate's cock as it pistons in and out of you and it's all you can do to not scream his name for the whole neighborhood to hear.

Almost instantly, Tate's boxing you in - arms flexing beside your head as he pounds into you. Your hands pull at his hair, dragging him closer to press his searing lips to yours once more.

"Good boy," you mumble into the kiss, broken moans leave the both of you just to get swallowed by the others mouth. "So good for me~"

Tate moves to bury his face into your neck, small cries mixed in with his groans and whimpers. "I'm good? Your good boy? Only yours?"

His questions start to get more frantic as his hips start to jackrabbit; his fingers digging even further into your skin as you both near your climax.

"Pleasepleaseplease-" he whines, begging you to cum with him.

And who are you to deny him such a simple request? Especially when he asks oh so politely.

"Cum, Tate -" you gasp. "Be a good, sweet boy and cum for me?"

And he does; a wet sob rips its way from his throat as he buries himself inside you, coating your insides with the pretty pearl of his spend. The heat flooding you is just enough to tip you over the edge as well - your nails scratch down his back as your head tilts against the pillow and your thighs tighten around his waist.

[astracora]

A Mandated Holiday Break - Chapter 4

Characters: Sylus x gn!mc (poly lads)

Warnings: None

Word Count: 991

Written: 21st December 2024

Notes: Post-relationship Sylus/MC-centric but poly LADs, with my personal pov of the game and lil headcanons littered in.

Chapters: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10

Masterlist

Sylus doesn't care about holiday movies, and while he knows you're inclined towards Halloween more than Hallmark, he's heard you talking to the fish very energetically about the art style and storytelling for 'A Nightmare Before Christmas'. When he'd asked, you'd gotten that look in your eyes.

Glittering, excitable, ready to show him something new.

He can't say he particularly cares for the film, though right now it sits paused, but he does like seeing you happy, sharing something with him. He especially appreciates his head in your lap, smelling the scent of you wrapped in his sweater. Your hands drifting through his hair and over his skin. Tracing patterns on his cheek without realising, he thinks.

Your phone is pressed to your ear, and you're listening to Tara rattle off plans about a holiday party.

He's listening intently, not for any real reason, just because he always listens. If there ever comes a day where he doesn't perk up his ears to hear you, he thinks he'll have gone mad.

You give him an apologetic look for the disturbance, for pausing your plans. Though they're not real plans, nor is it necessary. He reaches a hand up to flick your forehead, gaining a yelped response that Tara questions. He chuckles as you grumble about 'Skye'. But your indignation is short lived, leaning down, moving the phone away so you can press a kiss to his forehead.

He thrills, and he wants to take you into his arms and kiss you, throw the phone across the room. Bite and devour.

Before he gets the chance, fingers flexing and evol flaring at the tips, you're sat back up right and affirming. Yes, you'll go. Yes, you'll help decorate. Yes, you're excited.

For once, he actually believes the latter. You smile, ever since he's sat down with you with the funeral arrangements he's started to see where you're fraying. Closing off, and reopening up.

He's glad the world around you is stubborn, determined. He's glad your friends don't stop, keep pulling, tugging you along, even when you worry you are pulling them too far back.

You begin twisting his hair around a finger, thinking, and he reaches up to entwine your fingers together, grounding you. Thumb brushing over your knuckles. "Feel free to invite anyone." He hears, and he has to bite back the chuckle. You fret over his presence around your colleagues, even though he promises it won't be that bad. He knows where the threats are, he's not a fool. If he ever is caught, it will be because he has been caught by you. Not some unimportant pawn to your organisation. Certainly not the people you trust.

"Alright, see you soon. Take care, alright?"

"I will." (You'll try, you mean.)

Finished, you shoot off texts, responding to messages you'd slept through. He sees the doctor's concern, the prince's confirmation that he'll be there later with your things, and the fish's updates, photos of paintings mid-progress.

You promise you'll be ok, you'll get sleep, you'll rest. They promise to see you as soon as things calm down.

He feels your grip tighten on his, placing the device down and leaning back. "Kitten?" His concern leaks through at your silence, wrist at his lips so he can place a kiss there; turning your hand to kiss the back, manoeuvring so he can kiss your palm. The silence turns to a tickle, as you smile.

"Ready?"

You don't explain the look in your eyes, but he sees your soul settle. Like you've found an answer for a question you didn't want to ask out loud.

If you don't want to talk, he won't force you. He's told you before, to come to him when you're ready. Always a space at his table, room in his bed, on the back of his bike.

If the time isn't now, he'll wait. He's grown good at waiting, even when impatience bites at his heels.

When all he wants to do is wrap himself around you and bury himself into your heart.

He looks up at you, the tired eyes, messy hair and he can't help reaching up with his free hand. Tentative fingers at your skin, smoothing your brow.

Sylus remembers when touching you like this could hurt, something you wouldn't shy away from, but the dissatisfaction lay in his chest like a brand. He remembers you wearing his brand with pride, fiery and passionate. Full of anger at the world.

You wear his marks still, flushed and embarrassed but touching bite marks in marvel. You think he doesn't notice, you also don't realise when he's watching you stand in front of the mirror. You're not subtle, offering your neck to him easily. He burns at your trust, and he thrills at your song when he does bite down.

Still... he loves the feeling of your skin against his. No scales to dull the heat of you, and he yearns for it the second he cannot touch you. Irritated too easily, even though he is not a child.

What dragon is not greedy? What dragon would not want his greatest treasure at his side always?

He only breaks from his thoughts when he hears your humming, the vibrations in your chest, rumbling through his head. As you bob your head, just about singing along to the movie, he files away in his head that he wishes to watch every musical with you.

If only to hear you hum and sing for hours.

What better use of his time, though, than to curl up with his Soul and let them show him more things he's never seen?

Placing your hand in his hair again and turning his head to watch the television, as you wish to share something with him, (even though he would rather watch you). He keeps your other hand in his and lets his heart settle into a peace he only knows through you.

[lulublack90]

Prompt 18 Neighbour AU

@wolfstarmicrofic April 18, word count 991

Remus Lupin had one asset, and that was his parent’s house. It was in the middle of the Welsh countryside. It was a mile walk to the little village, and the only thing it had going for it was the barn. It was light and airy and smelled of wood. 

Remus had spent a lot of time and effort converting it into a liveable space. The idea had been to sell it, but no one was interested in living so far away from the major cities. So, under the advice of his estate agent, he rented it out for short holidays. 

So far, it had been quite lucrative. With the money he made from that and his own job, he could afford chocolate whenever he wanted. 

The holiday season was coming, and he already had two weeks booked out. He tended to get a lot of city dwellers looking to get away from it all or families trying to get back to their roots. 

He checked his emails one morning with a fresh cup of tea and a plate of crumpets. HE filtered out the junk and found an inquiry email in his barn folder. He opened it.

A man was looking to hire the barn for the full summer and all of September as well. He was looking at three months of solid booking. It was a shame he couldn’t offer it, having already booked those two weeks. And he refused to let down his other guests. He typed a reply stating as much. He got a reply back almost instantly, asking if there was somewhere he could pitch a small tent. Mr Black said he would gladly still pay full price while his other guests used the barn. Remus couldn’t believe what he was reading. It seemed too good to be true. He sent a couple of pictures of his personal garden. The views weren’t as good, but it would be sheltered from the worst of the wind, and he could use Remus’s garden furniture. Again, the reply was quick. The man agreed and said he hoped he wouldn’t be any bother. 

Remus sent an invoice and got Mr Black to confirm he agreed to the price, and with the confirmation, he booked out the three months. He sat back with a pleased look on his face as he finished his crumpets. He just hoped that Mr Black would be a good neighbour as it was a long time to deal with a terrible guest. 

July arrived, and with it, a sleek black motorbike and an equally sleek owner. Sirius, as he demanded to be called, settled in instantly. He played his music a little loudly, but as it was to Remus’s taste, he decided to enjoy it. 

Remus found he quite enjoyed Sirius’s company, and they spent nearly every night in Remus’s garden drinking beers. Remus had even started making enough dinner for Sirius, though Sirius had told him he didn’t expect it but did appreciate it as he was useless at cooking.

It turned out that Sirius needed a break from his high-pressure job, which was why he’d come to Remus’s. 

“I hate it. It’s been my life since my mother found out she was pregnant with me. They own the company now, but my brother and I run it. He’s so much better at it than I am, and I swear he’d have such an easier time at it if I quit.” Sirius had admitted to him one August afternoon.

“Then why don’t you quit?” Remus asked as though it were an obvious solution. 

“Everything I own is tied up in the company. If I leave, I lose everything.” He shrugged. “My parents made sure it was that way after I went through a rebellious streak in my teenage years.”

“That’s terrible, Sirius. I wish I could help.” And Remus found he meant it. 

“Don’t fret about it. I’ll muddle through.” Sirius beamed at him as he patted Remus’s leg. “Right, enough feeling sorry for myself. I’m off for a walk. Care to join me?” Remus couldn’t think of any reason not to, so he took the proffered hand, and they strolled towards the village. 

Remus showed Sirius some of his favourite childhood haunts just off the beaten track, and they spent a wonderful afternoon in the thick foliage. 

Soon, the first week came around when Sirius would have to sleep in his tent. And, of course, the worst storm to hit Wales in over a hundred years decided to arrive that night. 

The trees were whipping back and forth, creaking and groaning. The fence surrounding Remus’s garden swayed dangerously. Remus refused to let Sirius stay out in this. He flung open the back door and yelled into the downpour. 

“Sirius! Sirius!” A face popped out of the zippered entrance of the tent. “Get in here!” Sirius shook his head. 

“I’m all good. Don’t fret.” 

Lightning cut across the sky, lighting the dark ground with its answering thunder not far behind. 

“Sirius, please! I won’t be able to sleep knowing you’re out here!” 

Suddenly, Sirius was streaking across the lawn and ran straight into Remus’s arms, knocking the lanky man back a few steps. Lighting flashed across the sky again and then another and another. The last bolt hit the cherry blossom tree in Remus’s garden, and a huge branch fell off and crushed the tent Sirius had been in moments before. 

“Yeah, probably a good call that Remus,” He joked. “Shall I put the kettle on?” Remus decided, not that he had much choice, that Sirius would be staying in his spare bedroom for the remainder of the two weeks. Maybe longer if the look Sirius was giving him meant what Remus thought it did. That night, they sat, snuggled up together on Remus’s tiny sofa in front of a roaring fire, sipping mugs of hot chocolate and listening to the storm wailing around them.  

[becholeforever]

Forbidden Fruit

Pairing: Milf!/Neighbor Wanda Maximoff x CollegeFemReader

Word Count: 991

Warnings: Kind of smut? Dirty thoughts, undressing, forbidden love, getting caught, older neighbor, both characters are of age (reader is 19 and Wanda is in her late 30s) not proofread

Summary: You're just trying to get through college but cannot stop thinking about you're Milf neighbor. What happens when she finally decides to make the first move?

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

You let out a sigh of relief as Wanda’s hand slowly descends from your chest to your clothed center 

Waiting for the sensation of her soft fingers rubbing your bundle of nerves you close your eyes in satisfaction as she makes the connection while sucking on your neck 

“Mommy’s gonna make you feel so good” she says against your neck 

“Please do” you moan out and she smirks against your neck

Your eyes snap open when the bell rings and you notice everyone packing up and leaving the classroom 

You notice your professor staring at you with an upset look on her face, which is odd because professor Romanoff is one of the nicest professors you’ve ever had. Sure she’s strict but she has a soft spot for you, she cares for you in a motherly way. 

You start to feel guilty as you descend towards her, feeling like you are the reason she looks so upset. 

“Are you alright y/n?” She asks as you approach her desk

“Of course, why do you ask?”

“Well I’ve noticed you’ve been out of it for the past few days.” She says concerned 

“Yeah” You say sheepishly rubbing the back of your neck “I’ve had some things on my mind but I’m ok” You state with a small smile 

“Well I just want you to know that I care about you and if you need anything let me know” 

“I will professor” You say smiling 

“now go enjoy your weekend” she states smiling 

“I will” you say as you grab your stuff and walk out the door.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

As you turn onto your street you feel your heart leap when you notice your neighbor Wanda out on her front lawn watering her plants.

You’ve had a crush on your neighbor ever since you and your mother moved next door to her after your parents divorce three years ago.

She’s a smart and independent woman that you just could not take your eyes off of ever since you saw her. 

You pull into the driveway and step out of the car when you look over and see Wanda smiling at you. You give her a smile back and start making your way towards the front door 

“Have a good day at school today y/n?” She asks making you stop and turn towards her

“I guess you could say that Mrs. Maximoff.” 

There was only one thing you hated about Wanda Maximoff and that was her husband Vision.

You loathed the man and you knew he wasn’t good enough for the goddess he calls his wife.

But there wasn’t much you could do about it. They have been married for 10 years and while you believe that he cheats on her you have no actual proof to back it up.  

“Well, I hope you enjoy your weekend sweetheart.” 

“I’ll try” You say sheepishly as your eyes cascade down the women's physique 

You only notice that you’re staring too long when you look back up and see her staring at you smirking.

“I should probably go inside now.” you say rubbing your neck and staring down at the ground. Suddenly finding the concrete very interesting.

“Okay, enjoy the rest of your day darling.” She smiles as she continues to water her plants.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You enter your home swiftly and say hi to your mom as you make your way upstairs to your room. As you pass by the front hallway window you stop to stare at the woman you admire so much as she starts to put her equipment away. 

You watch as she bends down away from you almost on purpose giving you the chance to admire the curve of her ass. Imaging the way it would feel in your hands, the way you could smack it so easily and imagine the moan the older woman would release. You break from the image when you look back up and notice Wanda’s eyes boring into yours, eyes widening as you bolt from the window to your room. Not noticing the smirk on the older woman's face as she makes her way inside. 

Inside your room, you try to take your mind off of the recent events by drawing in your journal. It doesn’t help though as your mind continues to drift to your milf neighbor. Just then you look up from your journal and see Wanda facing away from you  in her window removing her dirty clothing from the day's hard work. You know it's wrong, you know you shouldn’t but you move closer to your window, eyes slowly cascading down her porcelain skin. 

You almost get whiplash as you're thrown back into those dirty images of the older woman on top of you moaning your name, looking back to see Wanda staring at you, you start to blush. Your legs going to run away from the woman but something in your brain tells you not to. You both stand there staring into each other's eyes in a comfortable silence before Wanda slowly lifts her hand over her half naked body and moves it around to her back to unclip her bra. Your eyes widen as her bra drops to the floor and you are confronted with the perfect image of her wide full breasts. 

You look back up at her with a blush as she smirks at you and lifts her eyebrow up at you in a challenge. You take the bait as you slowly lift your shirt up over your head and reach behind your back to unclip your bra. You watch as her eyes drift down your body and her bottom lip gets caught between teeth. You start to unbutton your pants and pull them down as you watch her hand descend underneath her waistband wondering if you should do the same. 

“Hey y/n have you seen my phone?” Your mom asks as she bursts the door open and walks in. 

Part 2 ??

[i-am-hungry-24-7]

Unexpected Encounter - Simon “Ghost” Riley*Fem!Reader

Summary: Simon wants to leave the meetup as soon as possible, until he sees you, the pianist of the bistro.

Word Count: 991

Simon wasn’t willing to attend this meetup.

He came just because Johnny insisted that he needed some “fun” besides just staying at home, drinking his vodka, and maybe lit some cigarette until he passed out on his sofa.

Of course, he had rejected him, telling him he didn’t have any interest in sitting with a bunch of strangers, and maybe getting importuned by someone who kept asking him some private questions.

But he refused Johnny’s invitation too many times, and he couldn’t find a convincible reason to decline him this time, so now he sat in a bistro, staring at the steak in front of him, totally no appetite, and simply grunts when the woman sitting next to him continues her never-ending rambling even though he didn’t reply anything besides some absentminded nods.

He watched Johnny sitting across him, busy having conversations with others, he sighed imperceptibly, maybe he should just tell him he had some urgent things to fix and leave right now.

but then, he saw you.

Wearing an elegant black evening gown that hugged your curves well, you walked passed him, and he couldn’t help but stare at you stopped by the piano not far from him.

He took a quick glimpse at his watch, 8 p.m., so you must be the pianist playing for the bistro.

Simon took in every detail he saw, the way your hands caressed the keys softly, how you adjusted your hips on the chair, and the foot engulfed in black heels stepped on the pedal.

When you started your performance, he was unable to pay any mind to what the woman beside him was talking about, he was fascinated by your delicate hands dancing across the key, the graceful smile you have when you indulged in playing, and his eyes widened a bit when you tilted your head during your performance, accidentally meeting his gaze.

The smile you gave him before going back to concentrate on playing made his heart pound fast against his chest, his hands balled into fists, the world felt like there was only you and him, and the music floated in the background softly.

He snapped out of a trance when he saw you stopped playing, stood up from the chair, and noticed that you were walking towards his side.

“Hello.” oh, your voice was just as euphonious as your music, ringing in his ears while all he could do was give you a nod as acknowledgment.

“You seemed like enjoying the music very much, you haven’t eaten your food since I started playing.” He heard you say, and he wanted to tell you that it was because of you, not the piano itself.

but of course, there’s no way he would say this to you, he didn’t want to scare you off, so he just said something more decent.

“You played quite well.” He mumbled.

“Thank you.” you chuckled, and he wondered how he could make you entertained, just to hear the beautiful laughter again. “You got any song you want me to play?”

“I’m not familiar with these things,” he admitted.

“Well, there’s only ten minutes left before I'm off for today, but I still have time to play a song after I drink some water.” He watched you narrow your eyes, and a glint in your eyes made him swallow unconsciously.

“I think there’s a song that suits you and tonight a lot, so please listen to it, yeah?”

You didn’t give him a chance to answer, turned around, and headed to take a glass of water, the only thing left for him was the sweet scent of your perfume.

He waited at his seat for you to return, picking up the fork and knife to finish his steak, the woman who was speaking before seeing no chance to approach him, already stopped minutes ago and chatted with another man instead.

The light click when your heels met the floor attracted his attention again, and there you are, passing beside him and returning to the seat.

Taking a deep breath, your hands began to move once again.

Simon listened attentively to the song you played, he wasn’t familiar with music, nor was he a romantic person, but even he could sense the vibes in your music.

Slow, mysterious, like a wine with several layers, unable to know what it would taste like when it comes next, tempting others to discover more.

Tempting him to discover you more.

He never moved his eyes from your figure until the song ended, and you took your purse from the table, walking with a spring in your step, and left the bistro.

Simon didn’t think another second before he chased behind you, and called out at you when he came outside and saw you just a few steps from him.

“Hey.” He greeted.

“Hey.” The charming smile returned to your face. “You heard the song I played?”

“Yeah, it’s-“ Simon opened his mouth, he wanted to say it’s beautiful, it made him want to get close to you even though you two just met today, but those words stuck at his throat when he was contemplating if they were appropriate.

but then, you step closer to him, close enough for him to smell your perfume.

“It’s called ‘unexpected encounter’, suits the night pretty well, doesn’t it?” He didn’t miss the mischievous sparks in your eyes.

He kept repeating your name in his mind when you told him, chewing every letter in case he would forget, but he knew your name was already engraved in his mind.

“I'm Simon.” He told you, and your smile deepened to his response.

“Simon, nice to meet you.” You tilted your head, and he watched you reach out your hand. “I’m going to a quiet and nice bar before I go home, wanna come with me?”

Well, he guessed he didn’t need to fake a reason to Johnny for leaving early now.

[projectbluearcadia]

NSFW | Minors DNI Wordcount - 991

Les lèvres blanches

Sometimes I really wish Lucifer was real for no other reason than to A) slap me hard in the face (non-sexually) and B) actually confiscate my laptop and my phone. CW: Cumshots (face, mouth); humiliation/degradation; body worship; rough treatment. It's pronounced "Lay LEV-ruh blAUNsh." You're welcome for the free and unnecessary French lesson.

"...what the hell is this?" is Lucifer's first remark, disheveled in his human-world clothes as he leans on my bedroom door, flashing his D.D.D. screen at me. It's currently fixed on his chat with me, and although I can't read it, I feel some relief that he just wanted to to talk in person rather than being annoyed and leaving me on seen.

"Was it too much?" I ask shyly. "I'm sorry for making you uncomfortable-"

"Uncomfortable?!" Lucifer cuts me off, his D.D.D. shaking in his hand as he makes quick strides towards me. "Do you have any idea how fucking turned on I am right now?" I feel my face warm as a jolt of arousal seeps into my loins.

"...sorry?" I apologize, and Lucifer groans, taking his spectacles off and pinching the bridge of his nose. "Were you still in public? I didn't mean to embarrass you."

"No, I was in my hotel room," he grumbles. "Have you been holding back on me?"

"...I think I've just gotten a lot more perverted since we started having sex." Lucifer groans at my words, covering his face.

"Really?" he asks sarcastically. "Because the timid woman who blushed at the slightest provocative comment directed at her certainly told me that she wanted to eat my sperm as part of her well-balanced breakfast Oh, and she definitely described in excruciating detail about how badly she wanted me to cockwarm her mouth as a reward."

I shuffle, embarrassed, but Lucifer isn't finished as he pulls closer to me, setting his hands on either side of my thighs.

"And let's not forget how she absolutely demanded that I cum on her face, along with the rest of the body if she's naked."

I clear my throat, pulling at my collar before I shyly reply, "Well, maybe I've been feeling really submissive lately, since you've been gone..."

"Well, I'm here now," he growls, leaning forward to nip my ear. "So you'd better take responsibility and suck me off until I'm satisfied." My stomach jumps, and I swallow nervously.

"Now?" I ask stupidly, and Lucifer grabs my hand and lays it over his pants. I nearly mewl as his length twitches against my hand.

"Yes, now. I want you on your knees right now." And I can do nothing else but stumble off my bed to lean up towards him on my knees as he practically throws his belt against the wall. "Stick out your tongue." Zip. I barely have the time to register the precum stain on his underwear before he's pushing his cock into my mouth, gripping my hair to control me better.

Lucifer normally lets me go at my own pace, but not this time. This time, he's much closer to face-fucking me, simply using me for his pleasure. His expression breaks in what must be less than a minute, his hot, bitter semen coats my mouth as his cock leaves, still trickling as he presses his tip against my lips. I can feel small beads of it dripping off my lip.

"Don't swallow until I tell you to," he rumbles, pulling my hair harder as he prods my mouth back open with the head of his length. "Savor it, since you love that taste so much." He grins at me, and I whimper, squeezing my legs closed as arousal pools in my underwear. "You like it rough, don't you, slut?"

"Nmnngg," I groaned in half-pleasure, half-pain as he shoved the rest of his dick back inside my mouth, letting me have only a moment of calm before he went back to using my mouth as his toy. Tears formed at the corner of my eyes, but I was moaning a little too hard onto him for them to be solely out of discomfort.

"Does it feel that good, horny girl?" he rumbles. "Is this what you wanted while I was gone? Just wanted to be used for my pleasure? Moan if your answer is 'yes'." I moaned, as loud as I could, and that nearly sent Lucifer straight over the edge. "What was it you texted me? 'I want to wear your cum on my face in the house?' Does that sound right, honey?" Word for word.

Of course, I can't reply, so I just moan onto him again, sending him trembling and tensing up. Ready to fulfill my lewd fantasy.

"Close your eyes right now," he says shakily, and no sooner have I done it than do I feel the scalding strings of his seed over the skin of my face. I feel his thumb tenderly brush some off my eyebrow before he smears it onto my cheek. "Open your mouth wide."

The moment I do, he pulls on my tongue, dragging it out of my mouth before he softly chuckles.

"You didn't swallow any. Since you've been such a good girl, I'll let you enjoy your treat. Look at me and lick it clean before you swallow everything."

"L-Lucifer..." I whisper finally, and he soothes my scalp where he pulled with his iron grip. Faintly, I realize the door is open, and my shame mounts as I see flickers of different colored hair getting in close to the gap. At that angle, they'd be able to get a great look at me.

"Oh, I know... you don't even know how to express how grateful you are to taste my seed," he purrs, and I twitch uncomfortably; I just know my arousal is starting to leak through my underwear. "I imagine you can't even express how thankful you are that you're even allowed to suck my cock. It's okay; I can be generous, even to dirty sluts like you."

"Fuck," I whisper.

"Come on, honey. Clean me up and take your clothes off. There's still plenty of places I need to cover." He tapped my cheek with his cock. "Because that's what you wanted. I hope you're prepared."

[shion-yu]

Day 10: The Sniffles

991 words, no TWs. @sicktember 2024 drabble ft. the whole cast: Ryo, Alex, Cliff and Elliot, ft Elliot being the grump for once.

Four people sharing several hours in a sound proof, poorly ventilated garage was a recipe for contagion. For this exact reason, Elliot, Alex and their associated boyfriends tried to be good about letting the others know as soon as they came down with something. But the thing about a cold was sometimes it came on suddenly, or it just felt like allergies or a tickle from dry autumn air until suddenly it wasn’t. This was the case today, as Elliot sneezed for the fifth time while they attempted to finish rehearsal. 

It was a bit under a month before he and Alex went on their first big tour together, and so their respective partners were unsurprisingly a little clingy at the moment. Cliff came to most of the rehearsals if he was feeling up to it and would help out working on any PR or editing stuff they needed done; Ryo came to hang out when he wasn’t in class. Their practice space was Shu’s garage turned studio, expertly sound proofed by Elliot’s father. For now, practice still felt like a family affair. But they all knew things were changing quickly, and excitement throbbed in the air.

Practice was running long today. It was cold, their space still just a garage in the end. Elliot sneezed a sixth time that afternoon, ducking away from the microphone to avoid causing a very loud noise. 

“Bless you,” Cliff said.

“Thanks,” Elliot sniffled. He cleared his throat. “Alex, let’s-“

“-Go home,” Alex interrupted. 

Elliot blinked in confusion. “What?” 

“You’re sick,” Alex said, looking uncomfortable. “And you’re gonna get everyone else sick. Go home.”

“I’mb not sick,” Elliot said, the stuffy voice and loud sniffle he did to clear it not helping his case any. “It’s just the weather, Alex, I feel fine.”

“You don't look that fine,” Ryo piped in from his usual spot, a bean bag on the floor.

Elliot rolled his eyes. “Thanks, Ryo,” he said. “Like I said. I feel fine.”

So they finished practice, because what Elliot said pretty much always went. The next day, though? The next day was worse to the point that denying it would be stupid. 

Elliot truly had felt fine. He still felt fine. But he couldn’t deny he had some kind of head cold that was making his nose run like crazy by the next day’s practice. And unfortunately, so did Alex and Ryo. Cliff had it too, but because he was Cliff, it meant he was also coughing and sleeping it off. 

“No Cliff?” Ryo asked when he showed up that afternoon, his nose pink and his eyes rheumy. He sniffled loudly. “We figured he’d get hit if we did.”

“Yes, thank you for pointing out that I gave my immune suppressed boyfriend a cold,” Elliot said irritably. He already felt guilty enough about it. Apparently the only symptoms Alex, Ryo and Elliot had were the congestion of a minor cold and increased bitchiness though. All three of them sniffled and sneezed through practice, and Elliot and Alex were soon at each other's throats. The two almost never fought, which was part of the reason their partnership did so well, but Elliot was snippy and Alex was making stupid mistakes.

“I told you, if you don't play this part by itself really well there's no point in it being different from the rest of the beat,” Elliot said in frustration.

Alex scowled at him. “Maybe if you didn't make it so unnecessarily complex,” he muttered. “It sounds fine either way.”

“I don't want it to sound fine, I want it to sound unique,” Elliot snapped back. “Try again.”

“I don't want to,” Alex grumped. “I don't feel good. Can't we do this tomorrow?”

Elliot pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration, the headache that had been only worsening for the past hour not improving his patience. “We already said that yesterday,” he said. He didn't feel good either, and he was very aware that none of them did because of him. 

Ryo could clearly sense the rising tension and stood up, holding his hands up as a sign of peace. “Okay, guys, c'mon. Elliot, it's only half an hour earlier than we planned to end anyways and neither of you are doing your best work. Sometimes you just have to stop today so you can do better tomorrow, that’s what my coach used to tell me. I don't think any of us really feel good, so let's just call it a day.”

Elliot was still annoyed, but he knew Ryo was right. He took a deep breath, which turned into a cough, and then conceded. “Okay, fine. But let's meet early tomorrow.” Alex nodded, and Elliot felt a little worse knowing he wanted this to be perfect as much as Elliot did. Today just wasn't the right day for it.

Ryo drove himself and Alex to their apartment, and Elliot trudged inside of Shu’s house where it was much warmer than the garage. Cliff was waiting for him in bed, pale but not feverish. “You’re done early,” he said sleepily, coughing and holding his arms out to Elliot. Elliot quickly got in bed with him and hid his face in Cliff's chest.

“Yeah, we all felt like crap and I was being a jerk,” he mumbled. “Alex probably hates me.”

“Alex loves you,” Cliff said. “And it's just an off day. It's just an annoying head cold.”

“For us,” Elliot said. “What about you?”

“It’s just a cold for me too,” Cliff reassured him, rubbing Elliot’s back. “Your skin is so cold, that garage wasn't doing you any good. Take a nap and you’ll feel better.”

Elliot laughed tiredly. Cliff's solution was usually a nap, and it also usually worked. “Just a little while,” he said, sniffling pathetically. “I don't want to ruin my sleep tonight.”

Cliff just rubbed his back until he fell asleep, and Elliot slept until the next morning.

[gravehags]

i must confess to you (i want to possess you)

Pairing: Cumulus x f!Reader

Rating: Explicit

18+ ONLY MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Tags: sinister Cumulus, stalking, brief description of fingering, possessive ghoulettes

Words: 991

Summary: She knows immediately upon seeing you that you're meant to be hers.

a/n: Listen I can have a little sinister Cumulus action, as a treat. Prequel to my previous fic fever for the fire, so I def recommend giving that a read first.

divider by @ghuleh-recs

It starts in the garden.

Cumulus sees you on your knees, cheeks flushed and glistening in the sun as you dig your fingers in the damp soil and help Papa Primo plant his dahlias. She watches you from behind a pillar, eyes tracing over what is exposed of your form in your habit. The way your chest heaves with effort, the way you rest back on your haunches and wipe the sweat from your face with a smile.

She knows then she must have you.

Your main duties lie within the confines of the library, so she begins to hang around there more often, making sure to don her mask for relative anonymity. So diligent in your work, brows knitted as you help other siblings find the books they seek, the skirt of your habit hiking up your legs when you reach for a text. Cumulus adores the way you grin at yourself while reshelving books, so often flipping through pages to sate your own curiosity. I want to be the reason for that smile, she thinks hungrily, fingers flexing at her sides, ever-longing to touch you. She knows you’ve spotted her every once in a while, and she revels in the way your gaze lingers on the curve of her breasts and backside. You blush at the slightest provocation and late at night in her room, Cumulus thinks of that blush as she slips her fingers inside of herself. 

You prefer to take your lunch breaks in one specific courtyard, one that is quiet and more intimate than the others at the abbey. Often you can be found curled up on the grass under the willow tree, snacking happily on whatever you’ve brought for yourself that day. You are such a lonely thing - you don’t have admirers flocking to you nor do you really spend your time with anyone else. It simultaneously makes Cumulus ache for the need in your heart, while also feeling relieved that no one else but her shows an interest in you. You are, after all, hers.

Soon, though, the observations from afar are simply not enough. She needs to be closer, to watch you unencumbered by the threat of other eyes. The growing desire to have you all to herself spreads like wildfire in her heart. So, one night, she transforms herself into mist and floats through your open bedroom window. When she manifests in her body she gasps upon seeing you. You’re fast asleep on your back, arms lying outside the covers. In an instant she’s at your side, ghosting her hand along your form while never really touching you. She admires the way your hair spills on the pillow as your snore softly, illuminated by moonlight. You are the most beautiful creature she has ever seen and it takes all her willpower not to place her lips on you.

Soon enough.

She watches you for an hour, maybe two, delighting in the little noises you make in your sleep. How desperately she wishes to slip into bed beside you, pull you close until she can smell your shampoo, then slide her hand in between your legs to wake you with a delicious surprise. 

Soon enough.

The next day, when talk begins to spread of a little party for the library staff happening later in the week, Cumulus sees an opportunity. She has a plan. She confides in Dewdrop about her desire for you and, with a sharp grin, he agrees to assist her. Cumulus suggests to one of your coworkers that they should invite you and then, perhaps, at some point in the evening, abandon you. The sibling is perplexed but when Cumulus brings the threat of speaking to Papa about the matter, they are more than eager to comply. 

The plan is set, all she needs to do is wait.

Cumulus delights in the warm evening air from her spot on the lounge, patiently waiting for your arrival. When she hears heels on the stone floor coming her way, she is filled with excitement and arousal. This is it. You step into the courtyard and remove your shoes, sighing heavily but not noticing her. Not until she speaks up, causing you to jump in fright. You’re irritated but pliable as you join her on the lounge, and Cumulus has to restrain herself from laughing triumphantly when your gaze lingers on the exposed swell of her breasts. You’re so filled with emotion and barely contained lust, it’s all she can do not to grab you and have her way with you on the spot.

But it turns out, that’s not necessary.

You give yourself to her willingly.

The first time your lips touch hers she feels as if she’s hovering ten feet over her body. So long she’s wanted this, and now here you are, so desperate for her. When she slides her fingers inside of you she delights in the abundance of your slick and the way you clench around her. You’re glorious like this, fucking yourself on her hand, and she cannot wait to see you come completely undone. Your thighs shake with the effort of holding yourself up, so Cumulus decides to finish the job for you, desperate to see you come. When it happens, she feels such an exaltant rush watching you keen and arch on top of her that it’s almost as if she's climaxed herself. You collapse on her, panting and when Cumulus slips her fingers into her mouth to taste you her eyes roll back in her head. You’re everything she’s dreamed of and more. When you tell her that the two of you should take this somewhere else, somewhere more intimate, Cumulus’ heart is filled to bursting. 

“I know a place,” she says as the two of you stand, taking you by the hand and leading you towards the ghoul den.

Pretty, sweet, thing.

She has no intention of letting you go.

[crimetimesteadicam]

ok @morporkian-cryptid tagged me to do this fic author interview so here we go...

if you would like to do this, i am officially tagging you, yes you, right now. tag me back so i can see your answers

1 How many works do you have on AO3?

i got 40

2. What’s your total AO3 word count?

1,044,749

3. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

sorry like none of these are lupin iii. a blight on my lupin iii blog

Wabisabi (991 kudos) - Spirited Away. idk it's short and cute, read it

BONES OF BLACK MARROW (952 kudos) - Homestuck. the infamous cyoa cannibalism sex fic. scrolling through the things people say about it in the bookmarks is always so funny

Cum mortuis in lingua mortua (925 kudos) - Homestuck. no clue why it has so many kudos lol it was like the first long thing i've ever wrote (a whole decade ago??? jesus). it's a d&d/discworld joke

Vanitas vanitatum (914 kudos) - Homestuck. the same d&d/discworld joke except the LI is turbo depressed. notable for being the only fic i ever outlined and edited and that's why it whips

Supermassive Retinol Overdose! (677 kudos) - hey look, a lupin fic made it on here!

4. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

i do when i have something meaningful to say besides "thank you!" i don't have a lot of thoughts about my own work so therefore i tend to not respond if there's not a direct question :( my head is empty. i always respond to every single comment on the last chapter of longfics though because i'm always impressed people read that far lol. genuinely, from the bottom of my heart, thank you for reading all that

5. What’s the fic you’ve written with the angstiest ending?

idk uhhhh i wrote a series once where two of the main couples break up at the end, but it wasn't really angsty

6. What’s the fic you’ve written with the happiest ending?

they all end pretty happily

7. Do you write crossovers?

if i did it was so long ago i don't remember it

8. Have you ever received hate on a fic?

no but people used to send passive aggressive hate about my art in fics once in a while. hasn't happened in like 2+ years

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

yes. every kind. EVERY KIND

10. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

a bot will sometimes scrape my high kudos homestuck fics and plant them on a junk ebook site

11. Have you ever had a fic translated?

yeah i think like 7 of them got translated into russian and do numbers on ficbook.net

12. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

in the past me and my friend would sit around a laptop and scream laugh write our way through crack fics

13. What’s your all-time favorite ship?

right now it's jiglup and fujilup

14. What’s a WIP that you want to finish but don’t think you ever will?

i finish almost all my WIPs because i'm a freak. if i don't finish a WIP it's because some dramatic life event happened. this has only occurred two times

15. What are your writing strengths?

im a funny binch

16. What are your writing weaknesses?

i don't outline or edit or re-read any of my fanfic. i just type it and then eyeball it for typos and then post it. i COULD outline and such to really make the narrative nice and tight, but i don't find it very fun to do (for fanfic) and this is like, my relaxing wind down hobby. i just wanna have fun haha. the only reason my fics like, make sense, is because i write at least one ending scene first thing and always aim for that, and also i write out of order so i kinda know the route of the story

17. What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?

it's fine if it makes sense to do it there as a narrative device

18. What was the first fandom you wrote for?

h-hetalia crack fic.....

19. What’s a fandom/ship you haven’t written for yet but want to?

once i figure out how to draw zenigata it's over for you bitches. luzeni hours on da clock

20. What’s your favorite fic you’ve written?

for lupin iii fic, i like Lightkeepers the best

[acradelius]

Sorry if asks aren't open but could I get moira with a sub male s/o seducing her back into bed

"Come Back To Bed~"

Fandom: Overwatch / Overwatch 2

Pairing: Moira O'Deorain x Submissive!M!Reader

Rating: Lemon [🟡] (NSFW!)

Warnings/Mention Ofs: Male x Female Established Relationship, Vaginal Sex, Unprotected Sex, Breast Stimulation, Clit Stimulation, Humping, Biting, Begging, Praise, Teasing / Open Ending

Word Count: 991 Words

Author's Note: imagine teasing moira, lol

“Moira,” Questioning where the absentee scientist had gone considering that no matter how many times that (Y/N) patted down Moira’s spot in the bed, she was yet to make an appearance back into the bed. As a soft yawn proceeded to escape past (Y/N)’s lips he had turned his head to glance up at the digital clock, squinting at the clock to focus upon the numbers seeing that there was still sleep within his eyes, scoffing softly as the time was a quarter past two, being just four hours past since they had both initially went to bed. “Can’t believe she’d just leave me all alone in bed like this.” Pushing himself up from the mattress into a sitting position (Y/N) had begun to rub his eyes as he also stretched out his legs, letting out a soft groan. Leaving the bedroom and following the artificial light led (Y/N) to the kitchen, Moira standing at the counter pouring herself a cup of coffee, black per usual for that woman, and holding paperwork from her laboratory in her free hand. Taking advantage of her being sidetracked by coffee and paperwork, he took the moment to silently observe her, smiling to himself and muttering to himself about how beautiful she was. It was then he walked up to be standing behind her, pressing his own body against her own and grumbled into her ear. “It’s almost three in the morning, why are you doing paperwork? WE should be sleeping~” 

Moira doesn’t necessarily give a verbal response, just the gesture of her pressing her ass against his cock as she drinks from her cup despite that there’s still much steam wafting from it. (Y/N), despite still being mostly tired, acknowledges what she wants him to do by lightly thrusting himself against her bare behind. Moira wants him to seduce her back to bed, to give her a reason to step away from her paperwork and punish him. Squeezing at her hips (Y/N) continues to thrust himself against her ass, whining and pleading with her to come back to bed with him. “Please, Moira,” He begins, leaning his head down to kiss at her shoulder and let his lips wander to her neck and earlobe, leaving gentle kisses or biting just hard enough to faintly leave marks. “How about you come to bed and I’ll let you try that double ended dildo on the both of us?~ That one that’s been hiding in the back of the closet that you bought on our trip back from Italy?~” That must be the way to get her back to bed, she had only mentioned wanting to use it almost every day since then. Gripping the cup was a sign that she was contemplating the offer, setting it down momentarily to glance back at him. 

It doesn’t take long for him humping Moira from behind to have his cock erect, precum spreading across her lower back and ass cheeks as (Y/N) proceeds to use them as some sort of fleshlight. “Touch me, and we’ll see if that can draw me back to bed~” Happens to be the only words that come from Moira before taking another drink for her coffee cup. Couldn’t even be a couple seconds after that (Y/N) proceeds to slip his throbbing cock between Moira’s folds, starting to slowly thrust all while one hand transitions from her hip to her clit and the other to her breasts. Gently, but with enough pressure for stimulation, rubbing circles against her clit all while cupping, groping her breasts, and pinching and pulling at her nipples. “P-Please, Moira~ I’m being such a good boy, touching you like you have commanded me to~ Is it enough?~ Is it enough to bring you back to bed?~” He begs, he pleads, his touch becoming more frantic. “M-More!~” Happens to be the only response he receives from Moira, who’s back was now arched and with one hand gripping at his hair. How much more is there to do, he questions himself. (Y/N) does the only thing that he can think of, which happens to be him slipping his cock into Moira’s soaked cunt, both of them letting out pleasured moans of relief. 

(Y/N)’s moans become muffled as he proceeds to bite down at Moira’s shoulder, pushing her to bend down slightly against the counter to reach further into her cunt with his cock. “M-Moira, please!~” (Y/N) attempts to plead to her one last time, holding her close to himself as his thrusts are becoming frantic, becoming sloppy. God, was he about to bust his nut right then and there as well. He could feel that Moira was close to reaching her orgasm as well, with the way her body jolted against his own when he pressed down onto her clit, thrusting deeply into her cunt whenever feeling her clenched tightly around him. At that point, despite being almost overwhelmed with pleasure, (Y/N)’s mind had then sprung an idea on him. He had proceeded to remove all contact from Moira, despite that he just oh so wanted to become one with her once again and be praised about how well of a good boy he happened to be, following Moira’s commands to please her like they both knew that he would. He was in no way to deny her, but this time he decided it would be okay to do so. Making way out of the kitchen he only stops whenever Moira calls out to him, visibly trembling. “W-Why did you stop? That wasn’t what I had commanded you to do.” He gave a grin, reaching a hand down to begin stroking his cock all while then continuing the head back to the bedroom. “How about we make our way back to the bedroom to finish what we started?~ Last one there has to be in the fluffy handcuffs!~”

[countlessrealities]

For this meme!

🥰 - I’m following you because I love your writing and content and I just want to read your stuff

My personal favorite is catching up on the shenanigans, antics and various musing your silly (and dangerous) muses get up to tbh 👀✨ always a good time!

⌛️ -  You seem really busy

And there ain’t nothin wrong with that!!! I just don’t want to throw things at you when you already have a full plate of drafts and threads! I ain’t goin anywhere tho we stay vibing B)

➕ - Other reason(s) -sender specifies-

My brain has admittedly been dry on heavier plotting vs winging it via vibes/memes so apologies for the crickets on my end :0 (plus i keep meaning to write up that lil somethin goofy for A-991 and drop it in your inbox but i keep losing track of both time and reality 🫡)

Why aren't we interacting? || Always accepting !

The firs part of this ask is SO flattering and I suck at accepting compliments, so I honestly don't know what to say >.< "Thank you" seems a little reductive when such kind words come from someone who has built such compelling OCs!! I truly admire your creativity, so it means a lot to know that you enjoy my chaotic idiots in spite of everything >.<

That said, I appreciate you not wanting to overwhelm =.=" Tbh, it's kind of my fault, because I know that work doesn't leave me much energy and time to write, but somehow I keep seeking out more stuff...mostly to avoid working on the old one, but that just results in me owing even more things...To sum it up, I'm a clown digging their own grave >.>

Tho, please, when you find enough brain to decide what to send for AR & Ophelia, please do! I might take some time to answer it, but I'd love to see what you cooked up >:D (also yeah, my ask box will stay closed for a little while, but if you come up with something you wanna send before I re-open it, feel free to shove the prompt in my IMs or on Discord, I move IC asks on new posts anyway!)

In any case, I appreciate all of this and I appreciate you, and I'm SO looking forward for us to start interacting, also because the plots we're discussing frigging rock!! x33

[summerwritesfics]

🌎For As Long As You Rule

Pairing: Raiden/Kuai Liang Length: 991 Words Rating: Teen Warnings: Royalty AU, Prince!Raiden, Bodyguard!Kuai Liang, Fluff, Nervousness, Exclamations of undying loyalty, Kuai Liang: Raiden I will follow you to the ends of the Earth, Raiden: … Okay, Raiden is very new to the royalty thing and very flutersturd by his handsome bodyguard’s loyalty

Meanwhile In Another Universe Masterlist

Notes: Liu Kang: And Scorpion and Raiden are training together…

Me: Oh my god… they’re training together…

Hey, I can ship Kuai Liang with people who aren’t complete and utter bastards, how about that? :) I honestly don’t know how I should be tagging Kuai Liang on this site anymore (or Bi-Han for that matter), but I think how I’m gonna do it is for things that are specifically based off MK1 (like this fic, given Kuai is called Scorpion by Raiden in it) I’m gonna include both the Sub Zero and Scorpion tags on them, just so people know which timeline I’m drawing from.

Raiden gave a frustrated sigh. He just could not figure out how the pearls on this stupid headdress were supposed to fall. He was sure they were supposed to cascade down in layers but they kept getting tangled every time he tried to put it on. I need to get this right. In a few hours, he was due to make his first public appearance as a royal, he didn’t want to go out before his kingdom’s inhabitants and look like he had no idea what he was doing.

Granted, he genuinely didn’t know what he was doing, but he didn’t want anyone to know that.

There was a gentle knock on the door, before a voice called “Prince Raiden?”

“Come in Scorpion- Kuai Liang- Scop- Dammit-” he stumbled on his own words, wincing as the other man entered the room. “Sorry. What exactly would you prefer I call you?”

“Just Kuai Liang is fine, your majesty,” Kuai replied as he closed the door behind him. He had a trey in his hands with a teapot and a cup. “I thought you may enjoy some green tea to calm your nerves.”

“That’s… really appreciated. Thank you Kuai Liang.” Raiden took the headdress off his head, deciding he could deal with it later. Right now, he wanted tea. “And you don’t have to call me your majesty, just Raiden is fine.”

“My pleasure, your- ah. Raiden.” Kuai bowed slightly and put the tray of tea down. “I apologise, I should have realised this must be very strange for you, and done better to accommodate.”

“What? No, no, you’ve been fine.” He shook his head rapidly, feeling terrible that he’d made Kuai feel his efforts were in any way inadequate. “Believe me, you have been the only thing keeping me grounded this last week.” He sighed and looked at that stupid headdress again. “I mean, on Monday I was just some orphan farm kid named Raiden, and today I’m Lei Gong, missing Prince of Earthrealm.” His eyes flicked up to the mirror. The person looking back was him, but at this point he wasn’t sure if he was Raiden or Lei Gong. “It’s uh… been a bit to take in, if I’m being honest.”

“I understand, if it makes you feel better, I think you’ve handled everything extremely gracefully so far.” Kuai reached forward to the teapot, pouring the brown liquid out into the cup. Once done, he offered the cup to Raiden. “I doubt many people could handle such news.”

“I don’t know, I keep feeling like I’m doing everything wrong somehow,” he admitted, taking a sip of the tea. He blinked a few times. Wow, this is really good tea. As if being his voice of reason wasn’t enough, Kuai was also a wizard of the brewing arts, apparently. “Every time I open my mouth around the castle nobles, I feel like they’re judging me.”

Kuai clicked his tongue, “unfortunately, the nobles are…” He paused for a long time, eyes squinting like he was trying to think of a suitable word. Raiden didn’t push him, just sipped his tea and waited patiently. Kuai’s face finally dropped, seemingly admitting defeat with himself before deadpan stating “they’re snobs, Raiden.”

Raiden almost spat his tea out from laughter. Partially because it had taken Kuai so long to land on the word “snob”, and partially because of how matter of fact he’d been about it. I mean, he isn’t wrong, they do seem to be snobs. 

“Well, I’m glad that’s an opinion we share,” he replied with as cheeky a grin as he could manage. Triumph welled in his chest when Kuai gave him a wry smile in return. “Still, I need to figure out how to win them over soon, otherwise Lord Liu Kang’s plans for me to take the throne are going to fall flat before they even start.”

“I can help you with the nobles,” Kuai offered, “I may not be one myself, but I’ve been around enough of them to know how they speak.”

“In that case could you take a look at my speech for later?” Raiden asked, trying to not sound too desperate or feel like he was taking advantage of the offer. “I think it’s okay, but an extra pair of eyes would be appreciated.”

“I would be more than happy to.” Kuai gave a little bow as he spoke, before straightening up and placing a hand on Raiden’s bicep. Raiden tried to suppress the high pitched whine from the back of his throat. “Even if the nobles are not sure about you currently, I have no doubt they will come around. Even in this short time we have known each other, I can tell your heart is pure. For as long as you rule, I will follow you, Prince Raiden.”

Raiden’s mind was overloaded. He was certain his entire face had to be red at this point given how hot it felt, and tears welling in his eyes. On one hand, he was genuinely touched, that was one of the nicest things anyone had ever said to him. Kuai had such earnest belief in him, it made him want to do his best, even if it was just for him. On the other hand? His heart was racing and it was very hard to deny why it was doing that.

He was developing a crush on his new bodyguard.

He had no idea what to do with that realisation.

“Thank you,” he just about managed to croak out. If Kuai realised what was going on with him, he didn’t say anything. Raiden was thankful for that.

Silently, he reached across for the piece of paper he had written his speech on, and passed it to Kuai Liang. He took it without question, and began scanning the document. Raiden watched him, feeling nervous but excited for this new partnership between them.

I won’t let you down, Kuai Liang.

[memurfevur-archive]

The Snake Bit More Than He Could Swallow

Character(s): Omnius Dioxal, Athens Uyilst, mentions of Kulsot Amrida and Soliel Laambe (contrastparadoxx)

About: Tension between Kulsot and Omnius finally broke, and Omnius is left to reflect and make some big decisions. Fortunately, a friend comes to comfort him.

Word Count: 991

Omnius stared into the glass of golden whiskey in his hand. He wasn't appearing himself, rather his hair was disheveled and shirt was wrinkled, his collar uneven and his tie undone. He felt just as he had the day Kulsot died: empty, and overcome.

His greed and hubris finally got the best of him. Not the whole of him, no, he wasn't dead yet, though he felt like he was. Both Kulsot and his baby girl Soliel? The hive was too quiet, the bed too cold, and he already missed the sound of Soliel's pencils scratching at a sketchbook. They could be anywhere by now, somewhere on the road, far away from here.

The shards of a mask that Kulsot left behind mocked Omnius. The Teal didn't even get a choice between the mask and his love. The string tied around Kulsot's throat has finally been pulled taught.

This is what you get, he told himself, for loving someone. For being weak and vulnerable.

This was my own damn fault and I know it, he tried to reason back.

It all felt hopeless.

He pulled out his phone, tempted to text Masuni, but what would that do? Therapy won't bring the Mutant back. No matter the progress.

Then he scrolled to Athens' number. Kulsot had loved him, too, had he not? Omnius wondered how their undoing went, if Athens was faring any better than he was. He pressed the phone to his ear.

"Hey 0mni." There was the slightest quiver in the Purple's voice. Omnius sighed, guilty for the relief.

"Athens."

Several moments of silence were shared. The Teal had no energy to keep up his normally charismatic facade, and Athens was ever patient even in his own sorrow. The Purple knew it was Omnius' fault for both of their failed relationships, and he was allowing the other to grieve.

"...Are you available tonight?" Omnius finally spoke after what felt like an eternity.

"I Am."

"Could you please," Omnius had to swallow a lump in his throat. This was not the man he wanted to spend the evening with. He'd much rather it be Kulsot, but it would go without saying that would be near impossible now. "Could you please come... come over?" He paused, hesitated, but then it spilled out from him-- croaked voice and tears and all: "I don't want to be alone." It's dark without his family.

"I'm 0n My Way 0ut The D00r."

"Thank you."

He hung up then and fished in his pocket for something else: a wallet. He opened it, gazed on the pictures of his former matesprit and daughter, and tugged at another photo behind them. It was old and worn, slightly torn, captured in black and white. It was a group photo himself, Rutaci, Liahne, Stygia, and a few others. His eyes lingered on Rutaci, especially.

"Is this how you feel, ole friend?"

A part of him wanted to reach out to the Pyrite, to hold him as he used to hold Kulsot. Maybe, just maybe, there was some possibility for forgiveness, and they could all start again....

No.

He crumpled the photo in his hand, brought it to his lips, and sobbed. The wedding ring in his pocket weighed a little too heavy for his comfort, and the picture felt like he was holding a fist full of needles. Painful items. Painful memories. Painful realizations.

He would have to let Novalx go, get Rutaci's attention and leave them to him. Then leave. Leave Rutaci. Stop chasing his own tail. Let the prey be free. Just leave. Leave. Leave. LEAVE.

Omnius didn't know how long he was sitting there, photo clenched in his hand, his whiskey growing warm. He didn't move until he felt hands on his shoulders, and he quickly jerked out of the way, eyes wide.

"S0rry T0 Startle. Y0u Left The D00r Unl0cked."

Omnius blinked, then looked to the ground, "I did, just in case they--"

"They're N0t C0ming Back. I Kn0w Y0u Have A Hard Time Getting 0ver Things, But Trust Me 0mnius I've Been D0wn This R0ad With My 0wn Sister."

"Th-they're not coming back...?" His eyes shone; wet, pathetic, not at all the man Omnius usually is.

His gaze seemed distant then, as if he was drifting off into a world of his own. You don't need them, said the cold voice in his head. They're taking away your control.

But he didn't want control. He wanted his daughter in his arms. He wanted his man on his lips.

"How did you move on, from your sister?"

Athens eyed him thoughtfully, "I All0wed Myself T0 Feel Hurt. Then I Th0ught 0ver Why She Left. And I Tried S0mething New In My Life."

"Did you ever make peace with the man you used to be?"

"N0," Athens answered, "But I Can Rec0gnize My Willingness T0 Change And C0mpare It T0 What Has Changed, And Kn0w That It Is G00d En0ugh. N0t Perfect. But G00d En0ugh. And Then I D0 It S0me M0re."

He tilted his head in a bird like manner, a motion that had always amused Omnius, "What D0 Y0u Want T0 Change Ab0ut Y0urself?"

"...I want to be a man that Kulsot could want again."

"Mm. Y0u Are Already. But Wanting And Being Are Sadly Tw0 Different Things.

"So what do I do? You've always been better at this... emotion thing, than I have."

"Let Him G0."

This was said in such a way that Omnius was taken aback, as if the 'him' in question were a number of people. Well, perhaps it was; Kulsot, Initiate, Rutaci.... but surely Athens couldn't know the latter two? The Teal looked up at the Lilacblood, startled, but Athens gave no further answer to his question than that.

[planetkiimchi]

bend to my will | d.sc

featuring: guard!winwin x royal!reader

word count: 991

summary — when sicheng tries to stop you from executing an assassin that made an attempt on your life, something in you snaps, and you say some words harsher than you mean to.

author's note: uhh this is related to moonlight dancing but i haven't really come up with a plot for it. just think of it as a series of oneshots in the same universe. it would help to read them in order, though.

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“Stand back.”

The assassin glared back at you, the heat in her eyes boring into your skull. Her muscles tensed, as if she was trying to move, but your magic kept her frozen to her spot. She struggled against your will, gritting her teeth, but your power was too strong for her to overcome.

She made no move to step away, and you met her stare with a disinterested expression. With a lazy roll of your eyes, you forced her to stand with her legs together, hands falling limp by her side. The dagger in her fist dangled precariously, and she slowly removed one finger at a time, and her eyes widened as she lost grip of the hilt.

The dagger should have dug into the smooth leather of her boot, sharp enough to cut through the material but not to penetrate all the way to her skin. It would have been a final warning, and she wouldn’t be given extra reason to hate you because you had mutilated her.

Instead, the dagger’s course was slightly skewed, and it landed at her feet, the point of the blade clattering against the ground, missing her boot by a hair’s breadth. No one else would notice; they would think it was her luck that it had not injured her, but you knew better.

Without shifting your gaze or turning your body, you heard a choked sound escape the lips of your most trusted guard, Sicheng.

You knew he was aware that the dagger should have fallen onto her boot, and both of you knew that he had shifted the course of it just enough for only the two of you to know. You couldn’t believe that he didn’t trust you, that he had dared go against your will.

You forced his throat muscles to seize, blocking his airways for long enough that he would get the message. He handled it remarkably well, allowing only the faintest sound to be heard, and not moving the rest of his body.

He stood still, metres away from you, just outside of your peripheral vision. The cuff of your sleeve fluttered, just barely, in his direction. A plea for you to show mercy.

The disinterest in your gaze faded, replaced by irritation. How could you possibly be expected to deal with threats, when the threat was struggling against your command, and your guard was begging you to be merciful?

Seeing the muted fury in your eyes, the assassin’s determination dimmed, the fiery hatred fizzling to a wavering flame, fear clouding her vision. But her jaw remained tightly set, unwilling to give up.

Your eyes rolled up, revealing the white of your eyeballs in a rare display of your annoyance. With a wave of your hand, you dismissed the assassin from your sight. Your guards rushed up to bind her wrists together, tugging her along as the metal chains weighed her down.

She glared at you once more as she was dragged away.

Sicheng was by your side in two large steps. He lowered his head to your ear, asking, “What will you do with her?”

“She will be tried. And if she is found guilty, her crime is punishable by death.”

“But she didn’t even hurt you–” Before he could raise his voice, you stared him down.

“Watch your tone, Sicheng. I am your ruler, and my word is law.” Your tone was warning, dangerously laced with threats, and Sicheng wasn’t an idiot. He held your gaze for one second before wrenching his eyes from your magnetic ones, stepping back and bowing with his right hand over his heart.

“I apologise, Your Highness. I stepped out of line.”

Good that he knows it. You waved your hand once more, “Dismissed.” The rest of the guards took their leave, leaving you and Sicheng alone.

As soon as they had left, Sicheng moved towards you subconsciously, as if he was physically drawn to your body. He grasped a fistful of the flowy garb draped over your back, pulling you closer to him.

“Why would you…” He couldn’t even speak the words aloud.

“How could you be my highest-ranking guard, when you can’t even say the word ‘kill’ aloud?” You asked in distaste.

“You’re different,” he said, unflinchingly. He pulled away to look down at your face, stony with resignation. “You’re never like this when we’re alone, you said you hated the bloodshed, you–”

“Stop pretending to know me.” You shook him off, righting your crumpled clothes. “You will never understand what it’s like to be in my position, to have to make a choice for the better of your kingdom even if it goes against whatever your heart is screaming at you to do. You will never, ever know what it is like to see your brother hold a blade to your lover’s heart because he believed that was what was right for his people.

“You will never know what it is like to watch the life drain from a friend’s eyes, someone so dear to you, who had only tried to get close to you to kill you. Never. So don’t try to tell me I’m ‘different’. You try living in my shoes, and you’ll understand.” Your voice was soft, but there was harshness and pain in your words, and you willed yourself not to show any emotions apart from the raw hurt he could probably hear in your voice.

Heart beating impossibly fast, you walked away, pausing only to snatch the dagger from the floor where it had been left, and tossing it in the air, catching it and flinging it backwards carelessly at Sicheng’s heart.

You didn’t need to turn around to know your aim had rung true, much less to know that he had stopped it just before it had a chance to graze his clothes, hovering in the air like a constant reminder of how unsuited the two of you were for each other.

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[tealeafgrimm]

Promises

Remus Lupin x Reader Words: 991 Summary: The Order's efforts are intensifying. Remus is to leave and recruit the werewolves for Dumbledore. You all know that these efforts will be all but fruitless, so you try to persuade Remus not to go.

"This whole thing is just a suicide mission! We know whose side most werewolves are on, especially those who live far away from the rest of the magical world!" Your voice quivered and you struggled not to slam your fist on the table.

You didn't understand why the option was even still on the table. You wouldn't have your boyfriend sacrificed just like that. Remus had done enough for the Order, he didn't need to risk his life unnecessarily.

"Y/N, it's alright. I wouldn't be here if I didn't..." began Remus beside you, but you held up your hand to stop him.

"It's not about whether you would do it or not Remus. It's about the fact that it's unnecessary. We know enough about the werewolves. We've already gathered information. Severus himself has already told us that Greyback is in the process of recruiting and is having great success with it. So why should we waste our time and risk your life instead of focusing on other groups where our chances of success in recruiting them for our side are much greater?"

"If we can win over even one werewolf, the mission will not be in vain Y/N. Trust me, I'm not interested in sacrificing Remus," Dumbledore replied calmly. You had great respect for the man, you really did, but right now you wanted to strangle him. How could he sit so calmly in front of you and defend his proposal.

"You don't want to sacrifice him? One werewolf for another, that's what it sounds like to me right now!"

Remus put a hand on your shoulder to calm you down. Angrily, you turned to your boyfriend.

"Why aren't you saying anything! Why are you letting your life be wasted like this!" You knew it wasn't fair of you to snap at him like that, but your emotions were getting the better of you.

"I...I think...Albus is right Y/N. We have to try," he tried to reason with you calmly.

In disbelief, you threw your hands over your head and looked around.

"I don't understand you guys! There are so many other options and ways and you're focusing on the one that won't get us anywhere."

"I think you're wrong Y/N. I understand your concerns, I really do. But if Remus is willing, I want him to try to win the werewolves over to our side. We still have some time. I don't expect a decision tonight. I think we should end our meeting for today. I thank you for your time."

One by one, all the members departed on their way home. You and Remus stayed in Grimmauld Place. It was the easiest and to be honest the more comfortable life for both of you. Besides, you could keep Sirius company.

When Sirius had left too, it was just you and Remus. You busied yourself with the dishes so you wouldn't have to look at him.

"Can we talk about this peacefully again?" asked Remus as he stepped behind you at the sink and put his hands on your hips.

"I have nothing to talk about, you know my opinion and it won't change. There's no point in going on the mission and you know it yourself Remus!"

With a sigh and one last look at you, he left the kitchen.

For the next few days, you didn't talk about the mission. Neither of you had any interest in starting another argument and so the potential departure of Remus hovered over your heads like a dark storm cloud. But you carried on as before and after a few days, the mission was forgotten.

At least, that's what you thought.

"Remus?"

The bedroom was dark, only the glow of a streetlight, illuminating the room a little. You had woken up, thinking you had heard something downstairs in the house. You turned around, only to see that the space next to you was empty. Remus' blanket was thrown back and there was no sign of your boyfriend.

On tiptoes and with your wand lit in front of you, you crept out into the hallway and down the stairs.

"Remus?" you whispered again. A rumble from the kitchen told you he was probably there. You had no idea how late or early it actually was.

The light in the kitchen was on and when you opened the door, you saw Remus standing by the sideboard with a large rucksack.

"Y/N?" His face and voice revealed that he hadn't expected you to find him here in the middle of the night.

"You're not going on the mission, are you?" You were suddenly wide awake as everything around you suddenly made sense.

"I...have to." He stared at the dirty kitchen floor, trying not to look at you. He didn't want to see the disappointment in your eyes.

"Have to? For whom Remus? For the Order? For Dumbledore?" He didn't answer you.

"Why now? In the middle of the night? How do you think I would have felt if I had woken up in the morning and you weren't anywhere to be found?" Your words were barely louder than a whisper, but you struggled to hide your anger and disappointment as hot tears welled up in your eyes.

"I thought it would be easier that way. I see now that I was wrong."

"Remus, please. Stay here, don't go." You grabbed the sleeves of his jacket and pulled him to you, your face buried against his shoulder.

"I have to go. Nothing will happen to me, I promise." With his hand, he gently lifted your head up and pressed a kiss against your forehead.

"Don't make promises you can't keep," you replied, looking at him pleadingly one last time.

With an apologetic look, Remus released your hands from his jacket, shouldered his backpack and turned towards the door.

"I'll be back." With that, he left the room and you heard the front door shut behind him.