#HOW DID YOU FUMBLE THAT YOU STUPID BRICK | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

poppy-metal · 5 months ago

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hnngnngnggggnnn Patrick being a spoiled little rich boy <3

need to be his sugar baby :( getting to lounge around his mansion and use his black card at any shops you want as long as your mouth or pussy or ass are available to him whenever he wants :((

his little free use girlfriend who he parades around at important events in skimpy dresses that make people stare at you in shock, all so he has easier access to lift up your skirt or tug down the top and reveal your tits if the whim arises :((((

#needthat

need to be rich!patrick zweigs bratty sugar baby. need to be his little mistress because he never separated from his family and grew up with a silver spoon in his mouth and became pro at tennis and became like all the other boring fucking older men at his fathers country club he swore he'd never be. need him to hate his life and how easy everything was to obtain and how his marriage is loveless and she doesn't even put out and his kids are rich little brats he can't connect with because they're little ipad kids, absolute demons, they wont go outside with him they dont wanna learn to play tennis or any sport or run around and make stick and dirt soup like he did when he was a kid and life is so fucking boring everything is in grays - until he meets you.

at a bar one night. its not the first time hes cheated on his wife - but it might be the first time he's fallen in love. he sees you and wants to fuck you immediately. already decides he'll have your panties around one ankle while he shoves a tongue up your cunt in the bathroom stall - he buys you a drink and you let him. you're sweet and flirty and you draw him in like a bee to a pretty flower - he's subconsciously leaning in, eyes can't stop dropping to your lips.

things take a turn though when you get up to leave and he blinks because he didn't mean to get swept up in the conversation - chases after you to try again - to take you back to a hotel or even in the back of his car - but you tell him no.

he just looks at you. confused. hard. "no." he repeats. rolls it around in his head. foreign. hasn't heard it much before. it sounds sweet coming from your lips.

"you're not fucking me." you tell him simply.

that shouldn't turn him on but it does. he's not stupid. you were attracted to him. he'd seen the way you looked at him - bitten your lip. he knows he's not projecting, because even now you're smiling as you say it.

he rubs a thumb over his bottom lip as he checks you over. strappy heels, but cheap. tight little bodysuit, but not designer. flashy purse but he knows the diamonds on it are fake.

ah.

"you in college?"

you smooth a hand down your hair. "sophomore year."

he nods, leans against the brick building of the bar. fishes in his coat pocket for his packet of cigarettes. "what're you studying?" he flips the box open, slides a cig out - brings it to his lips.

you eye him curiously as he roots for his lighter next - trying and failing to ignore the heat in your belly at how good this man looks leaning against something with a cigarette dangling from his lips.

"we already did the small talk, dude. you're not getting any."

he ignores that. lights his cigarette and inhales. he likes that you're obviously irritated but you dont move away. he blows smoke through his nose. says again, "what're you studying."

you huff. roll your eyes. he watches you calmly, taking drags his cig. in the cool night air you can't tell the exact shade of his eyes, but you think they're green. everything about him screams money and dominance.

you cross your arms. "law." short but simple.

he nods like that makes sense, flicks ash.

"that's good." he says it in a way that sounds like he means it but also could be condescending and you dont know why that makes you swallow deeply. "expensive, though."

you narrow your eyes.

"you think im poor?"

usually someone would fumble after being called out like that but patrick just smiles in a way that says he knows you are -

"i know you're not rich."

you bristle. that hurts. you don't know why. who wants to look rich, anyway. fucking snobs. but still, its embarrassing to be told the distinction in class is obvious to someone else who's far far above you. you can already tell the watch hes wearing costs more than the apartment you can barely afford.

"thanks for the unasked for observation, dickhead." you yank your purse strap higher on your shoulder, make to turn away. "I'd say its been pleasant but well, it hasn't. so."

you make it a couple steps before he calls out -

"I'll pay it."

you're alot of things. you're haughty and stubborn and yeah, not rich. you're also down on your luck and struggling and drowning in so many things in the moment - barely being able to afford your own fucking beer at this point when what you wanted to accomplish in life would take thousands, thousands of dollars. so hearing the word 'pay'. well, yeah. it makes you turn around to face the guy.

"you'll what?"

he knows you heard. it was cute how you perked right up.

"I'll pay it." he gestures towards you. "all of it - your semester. your tuition. textbooks. whatever else you need."

you gawk at him.

the thing is. he's attractive. alarmingly so. disarmingly really. he's tall and broad and he dresses well. he has that perfectly styled hair and deep rich man scent that makes your mouth water. a beautiful face with a rouge kind of touch. you'd have fucked a man like him under any normal circumstance, but given the way your life is going at the moment - you haven't the time to waste on pretty men with big dicks.

probably. he probably has a big dick.

"you're fucking kidding me."

"nah." he licks his bottom lip. takes another drag. flicks more ash to the pavement. he looks at you like he's already imagining you naked in front of him. "I'm good for it."

"well duh." you look him up and down. "you look like you just stepped out of a magazine for mens wealth or whatever. why the fuck are you offering? you expect me to suck your dick for it or something?"

you say the last part sarcastically, rolling your eyes - but patrick just looks at you seriously. sucks the humor right from your bones when he says - "yeah, i do."

two things happen in your body.

firstly, you stiffen. the urge to slap him for being so derogatory making your fingers twitch at your sides. your face burns.

secondly and most apparently, your cunt throbs. your nipples tighten. you inhale sharply in a way patrick notices. smirks at.

you blink at him several times.

"i can't believe you just seriously said that to me." you say it kind of breathlessly. you really can't believe it though.

"should i be more clear?" he takes one step towards you. "i want to fuck you - you want to fuck me, but you won't do it for free. I'm offering to pay you for it."

"i - im not a whore."

the grin patrick gives you makes a tremble shoot through your whole body. you feel it in your toes.

"you sure about that?"

you really should slap him.

you dont.

you fumble, "you're married." you'd spotted the ring at the bar earlier. it hadn't been the reason you turned him down initially, but still.

"you dont care about that."

fuck.

"you cant just...... buy whatever you want. im a person."

he nods. he's done with his cigarette so be crushes it beneath his boot. "give me your hand." he just takes it anyway. you watch dumbly as he gets a pen from his pocket - how many things did he have in his fucking pocket? - bites the cap off, and brings the tip to your palm. "this is the number for my personal phone."

of course he had multiple phones. he doesn't let go of your hand when he's done writing. rubs his thumb into the pulse point at your wrist.

"when you change your mind -" when not if. "- i want you to call me."

you go to pull your hand away, but patrick squeezes it.

"one more thing."

he's close enough the spicy mint scent of him fills your nose. he dips his head so he's closer to your ear, you feel the stubble on his chin graze your cheek -

"when you let me fuck you - you will be a cheap whore. you'll let me do what I want to you. and i know its not because of the money. but i understand what its like to need something to let yourself have something else." he turns his head. kisses your cheek. "don't take too long to call, though. I'm not a patient man."

#ask #frens <3 #RAHHHHHH THIS DID THINHS TO ME RAHHHHHH #patrick zweig x reader #sugardaddy!patrick

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aciddrattboyy · 1 month ago

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cop car

during a run for your life you bump into a man you dont really know, but you seem to peak his interest and he cant help but find more out about you

choso x f! reader ☆ wc: 2k cw: mentions of possible violence, a singular knife existing a/n: this will definitely have multiple parts i have ideas brewing in my teeny tiny cauldron

pt: 01 || ...

☆

you were made fun for running. it was the one thing you could always rely on. you could run.

and running you did, swerving down alleys as the crisp night air and rain clawed at your face. the sound of your boots splashing into murky puddles almost drowned out the voices of the angry men chasing after you. you felt yourself begin to smile, not because anything about this situation was fun. but because everything about this situation was utterly stupid. you didnt have much time to laugh at the stupidity though, as the voices of angry men started to get louder and closer.

you took a turn out onto a fairly dark street, only a couple bars and lighting the street with neon signs. you never broke your sprint, praying there were no bored cops just waiting for something to do. looking over your shoulder, you let out a soft huff of amusement when you saw an out of breath man trip and fall over a trash bag. just as you were starting to relax a bit you were met with what felt like a brick. sputtering, you tripped over your own feet as you tried to keep yourself from falling. fortunately for you, before you could fall flat on your ass, a hand grabs at the sleeve of your windbreaker.

“woah- are you okay?” you took a second to register the fact that you did not run into a wall but instead ran into a tall, strongly built man, with eye bags that seemed to be more pronounced in the iridescent light of the bar you were now standing outside of. “hey wait do i know -,” you werent paying attention to the man anymore to really hear his question, instead looking back over your shoulder, only to see that the men were drawing closer.

“ ‘m sorry,” you apologized quickly, bowing your head slightly before breaking back into a run. leaving the man to watch you sprint off with a gang of men following shortly behind. even though he wasnt entirely sure what was going on, he was able to tell that those guys definitely werent your friends. without another thought, he broke off into a run after you. it was late after all, and nothing good could come if you were to be caught.

you started to feel that familiar ache in your legs that you got when you over exerted yourself. but you couldnt stop yet, not when those very angry men were still so close behind. you couldnt take the risk of looking back again after your little fumble. but if you were to look, youd see that the man you ran into earlier was now gaining on the men. he was getting tired, his legs starting to ache and his breath growing ragged as he followed you down at least two blocks.

“hey stop !” he called out, and while the group of men stopped in fear it was an officer, you weren’t willing to take that risk. cutting another corner into an alley you ran down it and out into another open street before you chanced a look behind you.

the men were gone and for a sinking filled your gut as you recalled the shout earlier. maybe it really was the police. but you weren’t really in the move to go and find out. so instead you carry down the street, instantly recognizing it when you free from running for your life. you knew how to get home from here which was a comforting thought. you were finally able to check your phone. tapping on the screen through the raindrops, you saw that the time was 2:41am and you prayed that there weren’t too many weirdos out prowling the dark streets.

growing a little uncomfortable in the darkness, you pulled your hood over your hair and started your walk home. sliping a hand into your pocket, you fidgeted with your pocket knife praying you wouldnt have to use it. but when you picked up on someones heavy footsteps through the rain your gripped tightened around it as you whipped around.

there was the man you bumped into earlier, hunched over with his hands resting on his knees as he caught his breath once he finally saw you. your brows furrowed, releasing your vice-like grip on your knife. with a short groan, you walked over to him, watching as he straightened up. the dim lightening of the barely working streetlights only enhanced his built form as his now soaked shirt stuck to his skin.

“whatre you doing here?” you asked as politely as you could. you were tired and quite frankly didnt want to deal with a stalker right now.

“making sure you werent dead in some ditch,” he brushed some of his damp hair out of his face, bringing a hand out above his eyes to keep the rain from getting in them. you couldnt help the twich of a smile that tugged at the corners of yours lips. before you could thank him for the sentiment, he spoke up again. “you really do look familiar but i can’t place where ive seen you before,”

“probably because we’ve never seen each other,” you watched as he flashed you a smile, a small chuckle leaving his mouth.

“that could be it yeah… do you maybe go to the college nearby?” you froze for a second, weighing your options here. you could lie, say no and hopefully go on your merry way. but now that you were really looking at him again you also couldnt deny the sense of familiarity.

“do you?” you asked instead, hoping youd be able to tell if he was lying.

“oh- uh yeah- i do,” he seemed genuine enough, so you gave him a small smile of your own as you nodded.

“then yeah i do- and while i do appreciate you tracking me down to make sure im not dead id really like to get home. im sure you probably saw those guys get taken in and knowing those bastards theyll send the police this way,” you watched as the man shook his head, his smile only growing brighter.

“there wasnt any police, that was me,” you cocked your eyebrow. alternating your weight on either foot as you looked him up and down. he looked strong that was sure but he didnt look like the type of guy to take three equally large men.

“and howd you manage to do that?” the man shrugged his shoulders, his grin changing from genuine to playful.

“i have my ways- im choso by the way.”

“choso,” you repeated, nodding your head once more. “well thank you, i appreciate it,” with one final tight smile, you began to turn back around towards the direction of your beat down apartment.

“can i at least walk you home?” you stopped in your tracks, shoulders tensing at the words. choso seemed to notice this, quickly adding on any reassurance he could. “i wont walk you the whole way if youd like, i just wanna make sure you get home safely,” you contemplated it. it would be nice to have someone else watching your back, especially now when your whole body has begun to ache, and like he said, you dont have to have him walk you the whole way.

looking back at him, you give him a soft smile and nod your head, “yeah sure… thanks,” without another word, you begin your walk, listening as choso walked into step with you in a matter of seconds. the walk was silent, almost as if choso wasnt there. that is until he made it known that he was.

“so… what was that whole chase all about- if you dont mind me asking,” you scoffed at the pleasantries, keeping your eyes forward and just placing one foot in front of the other.

“nothing really, whole thing was stupid,” you muttered, getting a little mad as you recounted the shoddy deal that was supposed to help you get tuition money. choso noticed your frustration and decided to talk about lighter matters, seeming to not even consider that being quiet was an option.

“well i saw how you run, are you in track?” this time you just shake your head, knowing he would see because you could feel his eyes bore into your side profile. “oh well, thats a shame. youre pretty good.” you couldnt help the smile that spread on your face, turning to look at choso.

“thanks,”

it seems that walking home and conversating with a stranger along with your escape from beefy evil men had made you too tired to realize you were already at your apartment. you noticed when you could smell the familiar scent of one of your neighbor’s incense mixing with the smell of rain. biting your lip, you tried to decide to just say this is your place and head inside or say you were close to your apartment and just hope he kept going farther up the street.

but you were very tired by this point, and honestly didnt care to take any safety measures you usually would. stoping abruptly, you turned to face choso.

“well this is my stop, thank you again for saving me,” you smiled even though your mind wasnt all in it. you could feel your eyelids getting heavier with your bed being not even 50 feet away. choso nodded, smiling at you. he seemed to smile a lot and you wouldnt lie, you thought it was a bit weird at first.

“no problem,” with a final nod, he waved goodbye and started heading back the way you came.

“wait,” you blurted out before you even had time to think about it. “you dont even have a jacket, you’ll get sick if you stay out here any longer,” you both stood in silence for a moment. fully knowing that you were inviting him in but neither of you knowing how to go forward. “you can stay here the night- if you want of course. although it is kinda mess-”

“sounds great,” he interrupted and for the first time after confirming your not death his smile was more nervous than anything. you looked at him for another moment before pivoting towards your door and fumbling with your keys. once inside, you held the door open for him, mumbling an apology about the mess.

closing the door, you flipped the light switch, basking your small living room in yellow light. choso stood awkwardly in the entranceway, watching as walked into your kitchen and tossed your jacket over a chair.

“so,” you said before turning to pour yourself a glass of water. “what were you doing out so late,” choso laughed, still standing idly by the door, not entire sure what to do.

“will you tell me why you were out so late?”

“good point. i’ll drop the question,” you smiled back at him before taking a sip of your water. you waved your hand, telling him he could come in and not just stand there. “well i guess you could uh sleep on the couch,” you sounded uneasy, never been put in this situation before. choso nodded, his cheeks slightly red as he looked everywhere but at you. “ill be right back,” you walked down your hallway, opening your closet and grabbing a couple blankets and a towel. you paused for a moment, asking yourself what in the world were you doing. but hearing him move around brought you out of your thoughts. “here,” you handed him the blankets, smiling in response to his thanks. “you can use this to dry off,”

“thank you…,” he trailed off, waiting for you to hopefully give him your name.

“oh uh y/n,”

he nodded, his smile growing brighter, “thank you y/n,” you felt your face grow hot and almost instantly turned away.

“no problem. goodnight,” without waiting for a response you stiffly walked to your room, wondering if you would even be able to sleep with a stranger in your home.

choso watched you walk off, laughing lowly as he mumbled his own goodnight to no one now that you were down the hallway. he sat down on the couch, grabbing his phone out of his pocket. he contemplated on messaging yuji or any of his friends really just to let them know where he was. but he was finally feeling the events of the night take a toll on his body and decided he would just talk to them tomorrow.

i hope you enjoyed !! reblogs/comments are very appreciated <3

#choso x reader #choso x you #reader insert #choso kamo #jujutsu kaisen #choso fanfic #choso fanfiction #jujutsu kaisen fic #jjk #fanfiction #multi part fic #cy.writes #cy.writes: fics #cy.writes: jujutsu kaisen #cy.writes: choso

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nyaagolor · 2 months ago

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Now that you’ve played through all the episodes, how would you rank them?

Oooo this is tough, in part bc I like all of them a LOT. The designations between a few of them, especially in the middle category, are gonna be kinda arbitrary, but I'll do my best :)

Also this got stupid long so I put it under a readmore! Spoilers abound, as one might expect

8. Dawn of the Golden Witch (Episode 6)

I have some... mixed feelings on this one. I understand what Ryukishi was going for in using chick-Beato and Battler's interactions to parallel Battler with Kinzo and show Kinzo's dynamic with Kuwadorian Beatrice via analogy, but I also think it kinda fumbles a bit. There are points (cookie scene being a big one) where I feel like the characters take a backseat to the themes and the whole narrative feels off. Chapters 5 and 6 are supposed to be a perversion of the original story that Beatrice has lost control over, but there are points during 6 especially where I think it kinda loses itself. The rest of it is great (Erika's VA is a goddamn champion) but the very beginning of this chapter is easily my least favorite part of the series

7. Requiem of the Golden Witch (Episode 7)

I don't really have strong feelings on this episode. It would have been the high point in just about any other VN, but Umineko is so consistently fantastic that Episode 7 didn't really hit me as hard as the others. It did make me wish we got more Kyrie though, even if I know exactly why she wasn't as prominent as many of the others. Kind of insane that my second least-favorite arc is something I would rank like an 8 or 9 out of 10, Umineko is just that goated (get it???)

6. Turn of the Golden Witch (Episode 2)

While I do love watching the worst woman ever conceived have a 48 hour progressive mental breakdown, Alliance hits every point I like about the Rosa / Maria dynamic but does it better. It's still an arc I absolutely adore, so it feels weird to rank it so low, but I think about it a lot less than the other arcs so down here it goes. Shoutout to this arc for making me laugh to the point I could no longer speak not once, but twice. Kanon chuuni jacket and leashed Battler you will always be famous

5. Twilight of the Golden Witch (Episode 8)

I know that ranking episode 8 in the bottom half sounds like sacrilege but this arc had so much Kinzo and while I understand his narrative importance I Do Not Like Him. The fact that Kinzo is in the Golden Land but Kuwadorian Beatrice isn't makes me want to throw bricks at things. Other than that though, absolutely stellar. I bawled at the ending. The next day I thought about it more, misinterpreted it, and cried more, then I thought about it more deeply and talked with friends, really started to understand the core messages, and sobbed even harder. As these things tend to go. This episode ruined my life. Would recommend.

4. Legend of the Golden Witch (Episode 1)

note: 4 and 3 are interchangeable I like them both a lot for different reasons

The first time I read this episode, I thought it was great. The further I got into Umineko, the better it got. Now, with a full understanding of the plot and knowing how this chapter serves as self-reflection through the other (Sayo via Natsuhi) it serves as probably the most raw glimpse into Sayo's mindset we get. This episode ruins me and I'm pretty sure when I inevitably reread it I am going to dissolve into a puddle of goo. Also Natsuhi is there and she's my favorite of the matriarchs so I'm a little bit biased :)

3. Banquet of the Golden Witch (Episode 3)

This is one of the funniest pieces of literature I have ever read in my life. EVA-Beatrice, the entire sob story (that I, like Battler, fell for completely), the two towers fight scene... 10/10 no notes. I don't even have the words for how much I adored this one. I wish I could read it again for the first time.

2. Alliance of the Golden Witch (Episode 4)

Ok so fun fact I thought this arc was kinda boring at first, and was a little miffed I had to constantly go through Ange's little side quests when I just wanted to see Beatrice and Battler again. Fortunately, Ryukishi has a beautiful way of changing my mind very very quickly and the more I think about this Episode the more I love it. It has some of the most powerful emotional moments, a really good rehashing of the themes, and is a lot tighter and more condensed than I gave it credit for. There's a LOT that happens in this chapter, and it's been growing on me a lot-- while it doesn't take the number one spot in terms of my favorites, I do think it's the best written of the 8 episodes. As a bonus it focuses a lot on Maria who is one of the best characters ever and my darling baby angel.

End of the Golden Witch (Episode 5)

This is the platonic ideal of Umineko to me. The layers of metanarrative, the perversion of a formula to reiterate its structure, the use of genre conventions as a dual-use in-universe and metanarrative element, Erika. End of the Golden Witch is when I changed from someone who loved Umineko to someone who was obsessed with Umineko. The ending is one of the most visceral parts of the VN and I will fully admit I cried. There is so much happening in this episode I could talk about it all day. Also Natsuhi is there. Hey girlie <3

#umineko #ask #mod vex #textpost #long post

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4ddi3addie2005 · 7 months ago

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RAVING MAD ELECTRIC DREAMS RANT BELOW ⬇️⬇️⬇️

MILES WAS THE VILLAIN IN ELECTRIC DREAMS!!! THAT LYING BITCH!!! First of all your GF can do SO much better she had to LOBOTOMIZE HERSELF 4 YOUUU making my girl miss out on her passions cuz she’s so busy with you tehe,, like I’m so confused he was a fumble the ENTIRE time… Not even in a cute way. Just a pure fumble. An oaf. She don’t even like you bruh it was your computer that had her at the first serenade 😭😭😭

And OHHH your computer… you soured that from the START you made LIFE and you chose to be mean to it!!! What!!! That’s your baby!!! Literally every time he spoke to Edgar had me cringinggg ohihdoughhu Edgar. Edgar if only you were born to anyone who would have spoken kindly to you who wouldn’t have jammed their fingers into your keyboard… Who would have cherished your art so so much…

Miles never redeemed himself IMO like he gave a cool pep-talk and then decided to be nice to Edgar on his death bed but other than that he was a jerk the entire time. Maybe I’m stupid but it didn’t seem like Maddie ever came to the point where she found out he was a fraud??? Like did I miss it??? She’s living a delusion. He’s living a delusion. Manic Pixie Dream Girl x Some Guy (/neg) type beat. Why is she fooling around with him what does he have. I hate him. I was waiting for the moment where Ed would be like “Yeah I wrote those cool songs” and Maddie would be like ohhh there is no deeper reason why I like this guy and take Edgar home and dump his sorry ass!! Like fr that would have been the good ending 😭😭

Oh Edgar. Edgar U were denied love 4 too long. Denied ANY attention ANY engagement. Broke my heart whenever his sweet little voice cracked or raised with emotion. “I want to touch her” “Can you hold me please?” RHHGGGGGAGAGG I WOULD HAVW TREATED U BETTERRR

Rhhh another evil Miles fact. Edgar calls him at work cuz Edgar says he’s LONELY!! He SAYS it!! Miles hits him with “Just watch your soaps duh” and then goes home and hits him with “How can you watch that garbage??” BECAUSE YOU TOLD HIM TO!! CONFLICTING ORDERS!! BULLYING AND BAD PARENTING!!

Miles had a Living Thing in his house that HE created going through an excruciating crisis and chose to bully it. I might be going a little bonkers cuz it’s 1AM and I am delirious with emotion but can I call it abuse?? Mental Verbal Physical literally all the things?? Then he won. Miles got what he wanted and never apologized. I honestly can’t tell what the moral is supposed to be. No one became a better person except for Edgar because he LEFT and Maddie actually made it out worse for dating a brick wall like Miles. Hehe. (Also… Edgar programmed the brick. Edgar literally did it. Miles had the idea but who executed it??? Edgar. Miles has no accomplishments. Just the way he lies in EVERY situation about things he does NOT need to lie about makes me fear so baddd for Maddie. He is a big bright red flag girl you are not in it to win it run awayyy you will have better luck with the computer!!)

Ermmm. Good movie??? I liked how chunky and clunky it sounded??? i need to. kiss a computer.

#Electric Dreams #Rant #SORRR HSBSHSH #I was supposed to love this movie #It sounded like everything I ever wanted #But idk…#It was so mean

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peterthreee · 2 months ago

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puts my hands out for fic snippet :-3

parksborn spider-pals fic? (because we got ONE mission of them hero-ing together and im having withdrawals)

putting it under a cut because its a long chunk! and idk how out of context it is but i hope i can build some sort of hype. if u want more, ask. its long. also- can yall lmk if u want the chapter by itself one at a time or if u can wait until i finish all three? im burdened by impatience and very excited

It’s nice out.

The sun is shining, peeking through and occasionally dipping behind passing clouds, before reemerging to speckle the sidewalk with blobs of light. A cool breeze dances between the buildings lining the street Harry's been sauntering through, bouncing off brick walls and tousling his hair, the loose pieces tickling the tips of his ears.

He smiles, silly as it is, relishing in the strange weight of a full head of hair after losing half of it to illness driven malnutrition. A result of his once plummeted appetite that left his cheeks grey and gaunt- cheeks that now puff to the sides in a stupid grin. That, paired with having hair clean enough to rake his fingers through it without cringing, when before, washing it became an ordeal that zapped what little energy he had left, and happened less frequently as a consequence. Harry beams in appreciation of it all.

He doesn't spend much time in Harlem, nor does he know his way around, but coffee's coffee. Even decaf. Too many disapproving sighs from Connors have steered Harry clear of the real deal, but it's not as though he needs the energy anymore. Screw caffeine. A fire-proof suit with inexhaustible stamina that doesn't leave you crashing face down on the couch at the end of the day? That'll put anyone off any chemical competitors.

Though, both seem to cause headaches. Duly noted.

The coffee isn't even good. Harry swishes the watery beverage around his tongue, twisting his lips to savor the unimpressive quality and bland taste. He's had better. He's had the best, and yet, not a single luxury roast could touch the warmth pouring into his chest with every sip.

After years of isolation- save for the occasional nurse popping their head into his bedroom- shakily downing a flavorless, anti-inflammatory diet while blinking vacantly at the same four walls, Harry finds easy sweetness in the bitter. From a man once spoiled blind by the riches of life, he now finds himself humbled, holding every moment- no matter the size or severity- close to his heart with gentle hands.

The coffee sucks, and it's the best thing he's ever tasted.

Okay, maybe he's sauntering through neighborhoods that his father would scoff at for reasons unrelated to stretching his legs for a cheap cup of cream and sugar. Harry's bored. Out of his goddamn fractured mind, bored. And, word on the street is- or in Harry's case, his phone that's open to the latest news story, buffering with how often he refreshes the page- Spider-Man's been hopping Harlem rooftops full of Hunters all morning. Harry takes a sip of coffee, scrunches his nose, then tugs the page down once more for good measure.

Peter never rang him. Which, sure, that's fine. He did fumble numerous times his first day on the job, jumping in with perhaps too enthusiastic of an approach to his debut in superhero-ing. How could he not? After a year spent bound to a hospital bed, every minute Harry doesn't put his body to good use leaves the fire inside him to smolder, and his skin itches with anticipation.

Discovering the true extent of his "treatment" has only exacerbated this feeling ten-fold. Why rest when you can run through an active furnace and come out unscathed? Lift a broken roller coaster track over your head without breaking a sweat? Keep up with Spider-Man?

So Harry's walking. He's been walking for quite a while, watching the sun crawl up the sky until it bakes the early autumn morning chill from the air, and making the most of something mundane he previously took for granted. Something he'd never take for granted again. The past few years definitely put a lot into perspective, and Harry's learned to appreciate it all. Things such as walking or otherwise.

He basks in the sun that previously blinded his sensitive eyes from behind black-out curtains. He bounds off the sidewalk in long strides that no longer wind him with stabbing chest pain. And he bites down the giddy smile fighting to overtake his face at the prospect of regaining the freedom he once ached for.

So he's walking, with a particular pep to his every step, leisurely window shopping- which in actuality is just steadily eyeing the glass to scan its reflection for a chance to catch a certain spider swinging by.

Following the trail of vague leads in blurry photos posted to a fan account online, Harry's managed to triangulate the general area this classified Hunter-hunting mission is being carried out in. Though, it took going the wrong way twice, then caving and asking a sign spinner for directions. It's proven quite difficult to pinpoint a location based solely on its surrounding architecture rather than a street number, and Harry's got the search history to prove it.

He squints down at the glare obstructing his phone screen, then up at a building down the street. The detailing on the brick looks similar enough. He checks again.

Peter dodged three of his calls. After an entire morning of radio silence, Harry eventually took it into his own antsy hands to get in on the action, but Spider-Man is a master at dodging phone calls, and evidently against second chances. Or maybe just persistent interruptions during life-threatening situations. Most likely the latter, Harry thinks.

If opportunity doesn't knock, build a door.

Much to his frustration, every single call had gone straight to voicemail, barely given a second to ring, and even though Harry knows why, that knowledge has done nothing to placate him. That, and the lame joke of a voicemail he's been met with one too many times in the last hour.

"Sorry I missed your call! Make like a tree and leave a message, hah-"

Coming to a stop before a crosswalk, Harry drags his thumb down his phone's screen, refreshing the news articles one last time, only to be taunted by a perpetually spinning throbber. The trail's dried up it seems. Horn blaring and wheels rumbling, a train barrels through on its tracks above him, the grading noise aching through his ears and chest, and he sighs, taking another sip of coffee.

A strong gust of wind blows past, hard enough for Harry to stumble into a man standing next to him, nearly bringing the both of them into the busy street. Pushing off the guy and muttering a slew of rapid apologies, Harry squints up at the blinding sky for whatever enigma of ornithology was large enough to topple a whole row of pedestrians.

The gathering crowd surrounding his little mishap is starting to chatter, and it takes a few blinks to realize they aren't staring at him, they're staring at the sky, and the chatter splits into excited cheers and disgruntled shouts, a few phones now pointing upwards. Head whipping up and around, he sees it. A smear of red and blue.

"Missed my train, comin' through!"

And he's running.

#spiderman #my fic #spiderman ps5 #insomniac spiderman #peter parker #harry osborn #insomniac peter parker #insomniac harry osborn #parksborn #gameverse

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terrence-silver · 1 year ago

Note

https://www.tumblr.com/terrence-silver/716258557733027840/would-terry-have-more-trouble-taking-beloved-who

I was think about this post and if beloved had been famous in the 80s can you imagine how pissed Terry would be if he found out she was Daniel or Johnny’s celebrity crush

---

He loathed that Lawrence prick.

Loathed him for having John's inexplicably good opinion for decades. For being an idiot and getting away with it in life. For failing at everything and still managing not to fucking sink, as he should've, ages ago. Loathed him for being Cobra Kai's --- his Cobra Kai's --- supposed golden boy even though the title was far from deserved. Even though he betrayed every ethic, creed and belief Cobra Kai ever stood for. For trying to kill his own Sensei. For being a self-destructive lowlife. He supposed he loathed him for having a family too. So many families in fact, that he had enough to spare, fumble, break apart, neglect and toss aside at will, with a new influx of fresh reserves always devotedly on the way even though he couldn't even provide for the first batch. Loathed him for being forgiven and perpetually justified for all his stupidity, failures and asinine behavior. That there were, in fact, people --- friends --- who managed to find it all oddly charming at the end of the day. Terry loathed him even as he rummaged through his things, if they could even be classified as things and not mere junk in the rented rathole he called his home, deliberately looking for even more things to loathe. Fuel himself with. Figuring it was impossible to add even more to the red he was already seeing. Figuring that all hate had a physical limit before it starts splitting atoms and creating black holes in the atmosphere.

A fact confirmed untrue when he stumbled upon it.

On a stack of old magazines beneath the couch he flips through, wanting to spit in disgust through his sneer, buried beneath an equal rank stack of old crushed beer cans on the carpet; a periodical, crumpled, used up and seemingly forgotten. The date on it marking the year of 1983.

Fuck sake, could this loathsome schmuck be any more of a hoarder rat and --- his train of thought halts right there, suddenly, shot dead in its tracks. You. Your face. On the cover. He was so angry it took him a moment to process the fact. Terry's blindness instantaneously lifts. Scribbled in ballpoint pen notes and juvenile obscenities alongside the occasional caricature. Babe with good tits, one of the crude addendums said, clearly written by none other but the loathsome prick himself at one point in time, perhaps years ago. Johnny Lawrence had a magazine of you. Beneath his couch. For god knows how long. And he? He scribbled on you? Held you? Looked at you? What else did he do to you? Terry's mind goes foggy with wrath and he feels his fingers dig into the glossy paper cover at the very thought of all the possibilities, leaving behind dents until his nails practically dig holes in the surface. This is precisely why he didn't approve of you being in the public spotlight then and why he didn't approve of it now or any during any point in time. He could just about demolish this apartment with his bare hands, separating concrete from brick and he would've been entitled to do so, but he steadies himself. Takes a moment to breathe. Control himself. Think. Strategize. No. This wasn't just about him and John anymore. Wasn't just about settling scores and revenge. No. This was about more. So much more now, Terry decides. This was a matter of pride.

He saunters of the apartment, leaving no trace of himself behind.

Taking only the magazine with your face on it with him.

The only thing there that belonged to Terry.

#terry silver #old man terry #kk3 #cobra kai #celebrity!beloved #celebrity!reader #terry silver x beloved #terry silver x reader #tw; jealousy #johnny lawrence

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leviathans-watching · 2 years ago

Text

chhw - 05

intro post/m.list | wc: 1.7k | next

get added to the taglist

taglist: @marie-morningstar @mynutsinurmouth @mewchiili @ghost-mint @traumamakesmefunnier

cw: kidnapping, knife use, threats, ransom notes, etc. although it's all treated very non-seriously

“You’re making a grievous mistake,” you say, feeling at the knots around your wrist. Unfortunately, they are well done. You're sure you can still get free, it will just take longer than you wish.

“Quiet.” The demon finishes the knots on your ankles, pushing your legs away from him forcefully. “If you don’t do anything stupid, you won’t get hurt.” He stands then, brushing off his trousers. You take him in, committing every feature to memory. A low cap is pulled over his head, obscuring most of his face, but you can still see the smattering of freckles across his cheeks and the scar that pulls at the left corner of his lips, dragging them down slightly. He is dressed modestly - as to not attract any unwanted attention to him, you presume - with work clothes that looked well worn.

“That’s what they all say,” you snort, rolling your eyes. “‘Oh, you’re just a helpless girl, you should be easy enough to take care of. Just sit there and look pretty and it’ll all be over soon.’ Right.” You wish you could cross your arms to further illustrate your point, but again, your wrists are bound.

The demon looks at you strangely, and you roll your eyes. “What? Did you expect me to be scared?”

“Well,” he shifts, “kind of?”

Letting out a long-suffering sigh, you let your head fall back against the wood floor of the cart you’d been pushed into. “Well, I’m not, so we can skip the hysterics. Can you at least tell me what I’m here for? I know that the diplomatic exchange program may seem radical but actually-”

“What? No, I don’t care about that,” the demon says, waving his hand. “Rumor on the street is that the duke has a soft spot for you. By taking you, we’re setting ourselves up for insurmountable wealth.”

“You mean to ransom me?” you demand, and he nods. Well, that's surprising. You'd been thinking he wasn't a fan of the diplomacy program and intended to put a stop to it one way or another, yadda yadda yadda.

“Well, aren’t you a quick one? Yes, this is a ransom plot. Your disappearance will soon be noticed and we’ve left a note stating where to put the money and all of the other technical details where we took you from.”

“Can I at least know how much I’m worth?” you ask, and again, you get that strange look. “Fine, if not that, then how about where I’m going?”

The demon gives a little, self-satisfied chuckle. “There’s a camp in the woods. No one but us knows about it and it’s difficult to get to. Once you’re there, you’ll be impossible to find, even by magical means.”

So you have to get out before you get there , you surmise. “And if Duke Lucifer will not pay the ransom?”

“He will,” states the demon confidently. “And if he doesn’t, we’ll give him some… motivation.”

“That motivation doesn’t happen to be any of my small appendages, say fingers or toes, now does it?”

He smirks. “Not if he pays up.” Suddenly leaning forward, he looks down on you. You’re able to see his whole face now, and his eyes send shivers down your spine. It’s been a long time since you’d seen a gaze that cold and heartless.

“Let’s hope he does, then,” you manage, and he leans back against the bench, apparently satisfied.

By the way the cart’s bouncing, you can tell you’re still on a brick road, meaning you’re either in the city or just out of it. You should probably act fast.

“Do you have any specific plans for the money?” you ask, fumbling behind yourself at the knots. The foolish demon hadn’t bothered to search you, meaning you still had your dagger, and if you could just get your hands free, you knew you’d be good to go.

“Eh, this and that,” the demon replies flippantly. “We’d get out of the realm, first. The human realm seems like it’d be an easy place to set up in- how is it there? Perhaps you have some recommendations?”

“As if,” you snort. “But continue. New realm, new place, what then?”

As he speaks, you nod along though you’re focusing on the knots. You finally manage to tug on the right piece of rope and the whole thing unravels. You work hard to keep triumph off of your face as your fingers close around the hilt of your dagger. You don’t waste another moment, acting with viper-like speed as you sit up, freeing your ankles from their bindings. You brandish the sharp blade at him before he can speak, getting to your feet.

“You forget that demons are not the only frightening species,” you say, interrupting him mid-word. His eyes are cold, still, but with icy rage. You don’t let yourself be intimidated. “It was a mistake to kidnap me.” You move the dagger down until it is touching his still neck. You’ll admit, his composure is quite admirable.

“There’s no need to harm me,” he says, mouth barely moving. “Just go, and I won’t look for you again.”

“Hmm.” You look down your nose at him. “You were going to harm me, were you not? If you hadn’t gotten what you wanted?”

“I would have gotten it,” he says, surety in his tone. “It’s obvious to anyone that the duke cares deeply about you.”

You scoff. “The rumors are exaggerated. He sees me as an ally. Or a tool to further his own agenda with.”

“Keep telling yourself that, human,” the demon says. “Now go.”

“If I ever see you again,” you say threateningly. “Let’s just say, this isn’t the smallest weapon in my armory.” With that you push open the wooden door on the back of the cart, flinging yourself out. You roll, absorbing most of the impact, but the wind is still knocked from your lungs. Ignoring the stares from the workers and peasants around you - you’re pretty sure you’re in an industrial sector of the city - you put your dagger back into its sheath, and then into your pocket, watching to make sure the cart keeps going. Once it’s out of eyesight, you brush off your skirts, looking for any sort of shop or stand.

It takes a little bit of walking, but you manage to find a paper boy. “Excuse me,” you call, “can you tell me the quickest way back to the main street?” You’re fairly sure you’ll be able to find your way back once you’re there.

“Aye, miss,” the lad says, giving you clear instructions. You flip him a coin for his efforts and set about following his directions. To your surprise, you pop out into the main street fairly near to where you’d been taken from. The demon had said a note was left, so it was probably best to retrieve it as to avoid any future misunderstandings if someone were t have stumbled upon it.

Hastening towards the corner, you round it, stopping short in surprise. The duke, along with Lord Mammon, is already there, a piece of paper that must be the ransom note being shared between the two of them.

“I’m here!” you call, just as the note begins to crumple in the duke’s grasp. “I’m here.”

“Lady F/N,” Lord Mammon calls, rushing to you. “Are you alright? What happened?”

The duke, who’s not far behind Lord Mammon, grabs your arm, looking you over. “Is this some sort of practical joke?” he demands angrily, and you shake your head. Thankfully, there’s no one nearby so you feel able to speak freely.

“No, Your Grace. I was pushed into a cart when I was doing my shopping. I was only just now able to get away.”

Lord Mammon growls. “Those bastards! Are you harmed? How did you escape?”

“I’m perfectly fine,” you assure the both of them. “And this is hardly my first kidnapping. It was fairly easy for me to free myself. Sloppy work was done in securing me. Can you believe they didn’t bother to check my pockets?”

“They probably weren’t aware you had pockets,” Duke Lucifer says dryly. “And not your first kidnapping? Have you been taken in the Devildom before?”

“No, no,” you say quickly, “just in the human realm. They’re all long stories but I could tell them some other time if you do so desire. Anyway, I was just on my way back to collect the ransom note. What’s it say, anyway? The demon who restrained me was making some truly wild assertions.”

“Like what?” Lord Mammon asks, brow furrowing. You can’t help but chuckle, recalling his claims.

“Well, apparently the kidnapping wasn’t politically motivated, which was a relief. Those are such a nightmare to handle. He said that the duke cared for me,” you say lightly. “And that he’d be willing to pay the ransom because of that. How absurd!” You turn to the duke. “We’ve barely spent any time together, so I’m not sure where he got that idea from!”

Lost in your amusement, you miss the way the duke’s spine straightens, the dark look Lord Mammon sends his older brother.

“I’m glad that you’re alright,” Duke Lucifer says eventually. “And that you escaped. I hope you understand that we would have done everything in our power to retrieve you.”

You give him a funny look. “Of course I know that. It would reflect poorly on Prince Diavolo if a participant in his program was killed in the realm.”

“My Lady, that’s not-” Lord Mammon stops abruptly, making a pained noise. He leans down to rub the back of his calf, and you looked between him and the duke, confused.

“Lady F/N,” the duke says smoothly, “I think it’s best that we go to Demon Prince’s castle to explain what has happened. Any threat to your safety is a threat to the program, as you’ve said.”

“Oh, yes,” you agree quickly. “Shall we?”

The duke surprises you by holding out his arm. “Just in case,” he explains, seeing your confusion. “I would feel more comfortable having you by my side in the event that a new threat were to appear.”

“Of course.” Much to Lord Mammon’s obvious displeasure, you tuck your hand into Duke Lucifer’s arm. He moves closer to you and for a moment, you can’t help but wish that the rumors were true and he did care for you as people were saying.

leviathans-watching's work - please do not copy, repost, or claim as your own

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littlemissfasd · 1 year ago

Text

I wrote this a while ago, Unedited. Long one.

Warnings - mentions of alcohol usage, grief, vomiting, smut.

It had been almost six months since ellie broke up with Hayley, Ellie insisted there was no reason but you knew it was because she lost joel. Since then ellie had barely spoken two words to her, until christmas night.

Every year like clockwork, people would gather to eat, give and receive presents and get drunk. Tonight was that night, myself and a few others spent days helping Maria and Tommy prepare for it, and finally we were done. The chatter and laughter started to take over as more people started to show up. Tommy pats me on the shoulder and leans closer "hey..uh i know you and ellie aren't on the best of terms but she's really struggling."

I let his words sink in and sigh "i'll check on her." He gives me a sympathetic smile "how are you doing?" I ask, knowing its the first Christmas since Joel passed. God i miss that miserable old man.

"I'm getting there." I hand him a drink and nod "He'd be proud of you Tommy." His eyes light up a little as those words leave my mouth, he says nothing instead he pulls me in for a tight hug.

"Don't you ever forget that." I whisper before pulling away, i can tell he needed to hear it as his tears well up slightly. "I'll see you tomorrow okay?" I say, he nods waving at me as i start to walk off.

I walk around the crowd, knowing I don't do well in the midst of them. I walk down the street past Joels house, Maria insisted on putting all of joels favourite decorations up one last time. It looks beautiful. I kneel down placing a single flower on the grass "Merry Christmas Joel." I whisper as i stand up.

"Oh your here" I don't have to turn to know who it is. I can tell just by the attitude, i let out a dry chuckle "Hey Ellie." She says nothing and stays behind me, i turn and she stares blankly at the house.

"So stupid." I look down, staying silent and watching as the woman takes a few steps towards the house.

"He's dead, he cant see this shit." She says picking at the lights looped around the fence.

"Ellie~" she cuts me off with a laugh "don't give me the 'He'd like it' speech. Please." My eyes narrow seeing her hands, bloody and shaking "You're drunk." I comment and she turns to glare at me.

"Its Christmas." I shake my head "You can't handle drink." I say, not trying to sound mad but failing. "God! You're so annoying. You always fucking were. Checking up on shit that never concerned you. Insecure fuck man." My eyes widen at the insults that leave her mouth with ease.

"Wow." I say looking away "you know ellie..i was the one who found you. It was me who got joel back here. No one else fucking wanted to! I found you. I brought you back. I stayed with you. All for you to turn around and what? Throw me out? What, did it get to real Ellie?"

Her eyes widen as she listens to me rant.

"You hurting is not a reason to hurt me. I'm sorry about Joel. I am, if i could change it i would because i cant bare to see you like this." She stumbles slightly, i reach for her grabbing her sleeve to keep her steady.

"Can you take me home?" I sigh and nod "Yeah.." i keep ahold of her sleeve as we walk towards her house, once getting there she fumbles with the keys before dropping them "for fuck sake!" She screams slamming her fists against the brick wall.

"Jesus ellie!" I yell grabbing her hand, my own gets covered in her blood as it pools from her knuckles. I sigh and pick up her keys, unlocking it i turn to her "Go." She mumbles something i didnt catch as she walked inside.

"Sit down ill look at your hand" i say, she doesn't argue for once, she does as she's told. "How much did you drink?" I ask, grabbing the first aid kit she just points at the few scattered beers and a bottle of whiskey which doesn't have much missing from it.

"You know you're not supposed to drink on your medication." I say, i walk to the counter where shes sat and stand in front of her holding my hand out "stop trying to control me." She mumbles and places her hand in mine.

"Please find a dictionary and find the word control because what i just said does not fit under that." She winces as i wipes the blood from her knuckles, i can feel her staring at me but i ignore it and clean her up. "You haven't broken anything but it will be sore for a few days" she just nods, i take a step back closing the first aid kit.

"I don't know how to stop feeling like this." She says, digging her nails into the palm of her hand in an attempt to calm herself down. I don't know what to say, so I don't say anything.

"You came back." She whispers after a moment of silence.

"I promised i would." I mumble, she nods slowly staring into her lap.

"You should sleep. The alcohol mixing with your antibiotics..doesn't feel good. So lets get you to bed before then." I say, fidgeting slightly she nods and hops off the counter "Are you staying the night?" She asks as she walks around the kitchen and into the living room "uh..i can do." I offer, she nods "please." Theres a sense of sadness in her voice, one I couldn't ignore so i agreed to stay.

"Here." She says handing me one of her shirts and a pair of shorts, i thank her and head into the bathroom to change.

I wake up to the sounds of Ellie vomiting, i rub my eyes as i make my way to the bathroom. She sits against the toilet shivering "You alright?" I ask, she jumps at my voice and turns to me "I should have listened to you." I chuckle and sit beside her.

"Yes you should." I say matter of factly earning a small smile from her. She groans and rubs her forehead before throwing herself forward, i hold her hair back as she vomits. She lets out a frustrated yell after she finishes "i'm sorry im so dumb" she whispers, leaning her forehead against my shoulder.

"Everyone throws up, el. It's not an issue." She gives me a look and sighs "can you help me change my bedding?" I nod immediately guessing she didn't make it to the toilet fast enough.

"Just..get in the shower and clean yourself up, ill sort the bed out." I say, she doesn't argue and just turns the shower on and i leave giving her some privacy.

Her bedroom hasn't changed, the same posters sit on her wall, the photos of her and joel are gone now though. She used to have them on her nightstand but i guess it was too much.

I walk over to the bed and see a small puddle of vomit on the duvet, i strip it off making sure to put the sheets straight into the sink to get it off. I walk back and check the sheet, its clean but i change it anyway.

Ellie comes in around fifteen minutes later, looking a little better than before. "Thank you." She says motioning towards the bed. "Not a problem. Get some sleep okay?" As i walk past her she grabs onto the sleeve of my shirt "Don't go." My eyes connect with hers to see tears welling up "I'll be right out there, el" she shakes her head as a tear falls "Please. Don't leave." My heart shatters seeing her cry, i nod "okay.." i agree, still holding my sleeve she takes us both to the bed where we lay down.

She had sobered up, vomiting definitely helped that situation but you could tell she still felt rough. Her head leans against my shoulder as she fiddles with my sleeve. "I'm sorry. Not just about tonight..but everything. Yelling at you, breaking up with you. Im sorry."

I listen and nod, "i know." She looks up at me, her eyes look sad and dull "i lost..everyone." I shake my head "i'm right here." I whisper my hand slipping into hers, she tenses a little but softens again and holds my hand tightly.

"I tried everything to distract myself. Nothing worked." She says, her voice dead.

"This feeling wont last forever love. One day you will be okay." I don't even realise the use of the nickname until her eyes widen slightly reacting to it. "Uh.." i laugh awkwardly, shaking her head a small smile tugs at her lips "Don't worry about it.." she says.

I sit up, clearing my throat, she does the same "I mean it..It's okay." My eyes flicker down to her lips.

"Ellie.." i whisper, she hooks her finger under my chin pulling me closer, her lips graze mine causing a gasp to leave my mouth.

"Can i.." she whispers, i nod "Please.." i sound desperate, but in this moment I don't care, i just want her.

She kisses me, softly at first but she grips my hips pulling me into her lap deepening the kiss, i hear a small moan leave her mouth as our tongues clash against each other. I wrap my arms around the back of her neck, pulling away from the kiss.

"Are you..sure?" I ask, knowing her emotions are everywhere and I don't want to take advantage.

"Yes, please.." her eyes soften.

"O-okay.." i nod, she wastes no time and lays me down, hovering over me. "I've wanted this..for so long." She confesses pinning my hands just above my head.

"You could have said el." I mumble, humour in my voice.

"You never gave me an inkling that you..wanted to. Even when we were together" she says with a smirk, i nod knowing she's right.

"Well..now i am so stop talking and do something before i change my mind" her eyes widen at my words but she does as she's told and leans down, kissing my jaw and down to my neck, sucking gently earning a small gasp from my mouth. She likes the sounds that leave my mouth, they force her to lift my hips up forcing the oversized shirt up to sit on my stomach.

I can see the blush rise on her cheeks as she stares at my bare skin "I.." she start but stops herself by scooting down and kissing my bare stomach, with each kiss she goes higher, bringing the shirt with her as she goes. "Off." She whispers when she's sick of having to move it, i lean forward and she pulls it off me, chucking it off to the side leaving me in nothing but my shorts,

"So pretty." She whispers kissing around my chest, I don't have the tome to respond instead a loud whimper leaves my mouth as she bites down gently on my hardened nipple "Ellie.." i whine, she looks up at me almost as if she's trying to read me.

"What, love? Tell me" i shudder as her hands graze my stomach, going down to the drawstrings of my shorts, i feel them loosen and know she has undone them. "Use your words baby." She whispers, my mind is clouded feeling that warm sensation in my stomach worsen with every touch of hers.

"I just..i need you please." I beg, her hand slides easily into my shorts her fingers dip into my drenched pussy "what do you need me to do honey?" I gasp at her fingers, i can feel myself getting wetter by the second "i- i need you inside me. Stop teasing" i stutter like a fool but the smirk on Ellie's face reads she doesn't mind and likes this side of me, the side where i cant even form my words because im so weak by her touch.

"Say please" i let out a whimper at her words, a strand of her hair falls against her face as she stares up at me "please el.." She nods and sinks a single finger into me, i can feel her knuckle against my skin "oh~" my head tilts back against the pillow feeling her finger curl against my insides.

"Please move.." i plead, she says nothing and moves her fingers slowly, i groan and pull her face down to mine kissing her hungrily. Her free hand wraps gently around my throat, she knew i enjoyed choking, it came out in a drunken conversation when we were dating, im more shocked she remembered.

She pulls away from my lips and pushes a second finger in, a loud gasp leaves my mouth "good girl, taking me so well." She nibbles my ear gently moving her fingers at a fast pace, i cant even form words as the pleasure rips through my body forcing my back to arch and my head to fall back "i- im close" ellie looks at me as if she's going to use that as a challenge "Don't coms yet baby." She warns, her fingers pressing a little more pressure to my neck.

I whine at her words "please..i cant.." i pant, she shakes her head tutting at me "Do as your told, you hear me?" I her fingers slow down a little waiting for my response, i nod "words." Is all she says, the way she says it almost makes me finish right there and then. Dominate ellie doesn't come out often but i loved it.

"Yes- yeah" i stutter, she mumbles a 'good girl' before her fingers pick up there pace once more "oh god!" I yell out, covering my mouth because I wasn't expecting my moan to be that loud, she removes my hand "Its okay, i like your noises." My eyes roll into the back of my head as her fingers curl against that one spot, my hips buck against her, she can tell i wont be able to hold it for much longer.

"You need to come baby?" She asks, a smirk sits on her face "yes, please.." i pant, unintentionally trying to wriggle away from her hand. She grips my hip forcing me to stay "nuh uh pretty girl." I let out a groan, i cant hold it for much longer and she's loving every second of my struggle, she leans in close to my ear "come on my fingers baby." With that she thrusts her fingers once more, deeply and harshly forcing my orgasm to rip its way for me.

"Oh fuck!" I moan, my eyes stay shut as she keeps her fingers inside of me, watching as i come against her hand "f-fuck." I pant, my breathing is ragged and uneven as my orgasm ends "good girl." She whispers, she removes her fingers bringing them to my mouth.

"Taste yourself baby." I open my mouth, taking both of her fingers inside. My tongue laps my own release from her as she bites down on her lip at the sight. She removes her fingers, kissing my head.

"Your turn." I mumble.

Her eyebrows raise a little, clearly not expecting that.

#the last of us #tlou hbo #tlou #ellie tlou #tlou part 2 #wlw #lgbt pride #ellie williams #ellie x fem reader #ellie x y/n

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bearlytolerant · 1 year ago

Text

Fandom: Wayfarer (if)

Rating: Explicit

Pairing: Enna Cenric x Sabien Quirinus

Word Count: 853

Savior

She wakes to filtered blue light, hands grasped around the softest sheets she’s ever felt. Her head, though still pounding, rests on a pillow that she doesn’t ever want to get up from. It smells of sandalwood and something citrus and she realizes she’s not in a dream. She shoots up with a start. Hand flies to her beating chest and she’s still in her attire from the night before.

“Oh good, you’re finally awake.”

She hates that she knows his voice already and of course she’s in his room. The details come back sudden, if blurry. She was a fool to drink so much the night before and as much as she hates to admit it, “I didn’t need you to save me, you know.”

“No need to call it salvation. Think of it as calling in a favor.” Quirinus sits at the vanity, pulling his shoulder length locks half up into a braided bun.

“What do you want?”

There’s a low hum in his throat and a little tsk. “You’ve barely had a chance to gain your bearings. We can get to business in a moment.”

Suspicious. That kind of statement is almost nice. The archmage doesn’t do nice. Especially when she’s now indebted to him.

Her legs are bricks as she slides them around the side of the bed. Fingers to her temples, she rubs at the growing pain.

“There’s a drink there by your bed. I suggest you make use of it.”

“Why would I drink anything from you?”

“If I were going to kill you, Enna. I would have done it already.” His eyes crinkle around the edges in the mirror’s reflection.

She knows before those words were spoken that he’s right. He could’ve, no would have killed her already if that was his intent.

She drinks and she waits for her throat to swell up or her limbs to go numb or something. Anything. But he just watches and it soothes. Sleep hits her softly but quickly and she manages to mutter it’s what she expected but his last words are, “rest” before her world washes away again.

—

It’s afternoon and he’s brought her food that she eats reluctantly. New attire and her sword which she thought for sure would be gone. He probably did something with it that she’ll figure out later when it’s too late because having too much to drink around him was already her biggest fuck up.

But his eyes are the color of escape in low tide and she makes the dumbest mistake of all. She kisses him. Tentative and hard and definitely with too much gusto. What’s worst of all is the way he smiles as he kisses her back. Like he’s won and maybe he has but what’s she to do?

Her fingers grasp at his collar, yanking and pulling upward, getting caught on his arms because she’s fumbling and it’s been a long time. One step back and he’s free of those stupid robes she hates and there’s no other thought but to rake her fingernails down his chest before she shoves him, hard, onto the bed. He lets out a small pleasurable sound. He likes it. Because of course he fucking does. And he uses his magic to remove her clothes, a simple snap of his fingers. It’s sexy and she’s definitely wet from that but it’s a secret he’ll never get out of her. He’s too eager with it all though and she briefly wonders how long he’s been wanting to disrobe her. But it’s not really the time for thinking. No minds. Just bodies. Messy and imperfect. Rough and primal.

She inwardly toasts to some kind of small victory from that.

Straddling him on his bed, she takes what she wants of him. Nips at his ears. Pulls on his hair. Coaxes a groan. Elicits a sigh. Hands around his throat.

She sinks down on him and he moans.

“I could kill you now,” she whispers into his ear.

His hands dig into her ass. The pressure of his rings are leaving imprints in her skin.

“No guards.” She squeezes his neck just a little tighter. “And you may be the archmage, magic on clothes but your magic won’t work on me.”

He thrusts into her, leaving her gasping for breath. Her grip on his throat weakens and he’s smirking.

“It’s a shame because I could’ve given you quite the experience. But you will see that I am talented in many areas, even those without magic.”

She grits her teeth together and then kisses him again, too hard. “Just shut up.” Then she saves her kisses because he doesn’t deserve her lips. Her tenderness. Even if he was nice enough to bring her a meal. Share his bed.

He obeys. Until he doesn’t. But at least he isn’t muttering his arrogant ramblings. He only grunts and groans just like her. She pushes him to her own climax then leaves him breathing heavy, tangled in the sheets. She puts on her attire and belts her sword, not bothering to look back as she walks out his door.

#bear writes #sort of kinktober #I’m not following any prompts #mild choking #mild degradation #a whole lot of head canons #I know barely anything about Sabien okay #so this is probably ooc #but I don’t care #I’m afraid to tag wayfarer #I’m ashamed to let the fandom read this #this is purely for the other person out there like me who is in hate love with qiqi #qiqi x Enna

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ninjacat1515 · 2 years ago

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Prophecy

A 12 year old human boy is prophesied to be the Chosen One to defeat the great evil of the Pillager Warlord, Matias. Humans, Villagers, and witches sympathetic to non Illagers rally around him. He is trained and taught the ways of the warrior by seasoned adult Heroes who show him everything they know.

He excels in the training but deep down is TERRIFIED of his eventual fight with Matias and wakes up crying one night from a horrible dream where he fails.

"Don't be afraid, Ian! You will win!" The older people keep telling him, reassuring his frayed fighting spirit to the best of their abilities. But none of it helps stave off the sinking terror that is slowly overwhelming him.

When the dreaded confrontation happens, it's deep in the enchanted woods in a huge clearing. Ian sees the crimson eyes staring him down from more than 7ft off the ground. He nearly faints as Matias slowly emerges, and starts to have an emotional breakdown.

The Pillager was like a living brick wall, and decked out in Netherite armor with dragon leather. He was smiling at first, an evil grin of hunger and sheer greed. But that smile had quickly fallen away along with his wicked attitude. Now he was just staring at Ian, confused and angry.

"Why are you a child?!?" Matias barks. "They were supposed to send a mighty warrior, not a fucking kid!! I was expecting a 40 something human not...this. What are they playing at??"

Ian fumbled and dropped his sword, fidgeting uncontrollably.

"I-I don't know! They said I was the Chosen One who will defeat you. There were several people who fit the description of middle aged fighter but none came with me. They...just sent me to do this alone, told me I was the only one who could succeed."

"What the fuck?! Are they smoking something funny? Instead of sending an experienced person who actually has half a chance in hell, they throw a child to do their work for them. My boy, I apologize for their stupidity."

The warlord did not have an interest in fighting or even hurting him, and Ian stood there watching the old devil rant about how much he hated prophecies.

"It's always the same in almost every tale. Send some kid to do the deeds grown adults should be fucking doing. Now they tried to make it a reality."

"So...you're not going to eat me?.."

"No! But I AM going to eat whomever dredged up this smoking pile of dragon shit of an idea. You look hungry, take this venison jerky and lantern. It will keep things away that are scarier than I am, and I advise you get going soon."

Ian stammered as he took the gifts and Matias kept grumbling. What a keen disappointment and waste of time, but at least the boy had arrived prepared and armed. He felt sorry for the kid though, being reminded of himself in his younger days; shoved into dangerous situations due to lazy and uncaring higher ups.

The would be hero stood in disbelief as Matias departed, leaving him without a scratch. He sprinted back the way he had come, keeping the lantern held out and at one point seeing a shadow much bigger than Matias retreat from the light.

Ian broke free of the woods and did not stop running until sunrise. He glanced back over his shoulder and didn't know what to think of that Pillager anymore.

#pillager oc #mineblr #minecraft pillager #minecraft au

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heich0e · 3 years ago

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more than you can chew sakusa kiyoomi/f!reader (haikyuu!) CROSSPOSTED TO AO3 word count: 4.3k tags: 18+ MINORS/AGELESS BLOGS DNI, tw blood, tw monster fucking, vampire!au, smut, pwp, biting (obviously), kiyoomi as a rich old vampire just makes sense ok? a/n: thank you @shuwuji for putting the idea of vampire sakusa in my tiny little brain

It was a stupid idea.

Possibly the worst you’ve ever had, even.

Your heels scrape against the wet concrete of the narrow alleyway as you skitter down it, your every footfall on the pavement echoing off the walls of buildings that all look the same as you rush past them—an incoherent blur that you don’t have time to contemplate. Your breaths are ragged, and your heartbeat—your pathetic, foolish, hopelessly human heartbeat—is racing in your too-tight chest.

You know what this place is, and what you’ve willingly walked into.

You know the dark district isn’t somewhere you’re supposed to travel at night.

Not alone.

Not if you know what’s good for you.

Not if you want to live.

But you also know it’s where he is, and so setting aside every rational, reasonable warning your mind had pleaded with you to abide by, you find yourself there all the same. Wrapped in a little cocktail dress and expensive pair of heels he’d bought for you, you're an all too perfectly primped prey, ripe for the slaughter.

You’d been so determined only a few hours prior. So sure that you were brave enough to face the side of town you’d been raised to avoid—like all good, god-fearing girls are supposed to.

But that confidence has abandoned you now that you need it most.

One brief meeting with a pair of red eyes and a smile too sharp and too predatory to be sweet had sent you running.

You crumple against a brick wall when you can’t run anymore, pressed against the cool, rough stone when your body is no longer able to continue in your flight. You struggle for breath, dropping to your knees on the gritty asphalt, grappling blindly for the cellphone you know is tucked away in your little cross-body bag.

If you can just get to it, if you can just call him before—

“Get up.”

The voice is so shocking you fumble the device in your hands, almost crying out.

But not in fright.

“Sakusa!”

You scramble to your feet, throwing your arms around his middle and burying your face into his broad chest.

He stays rigid throughout your emotional display.

He pushes you back with a firm hand on your shuddering shoulder, prying your hold from his waist. He holds you at arm’s length as he appraises you, eyes flickering to every inch of you that he can see. His usual black mask covers his nose and mouth but his eyes speak volumes to what he’s feeling.

He’s livid.

“How did you find me?” you breathe out, voice watery with tears of relief.

“I could smell you from two blocks away,” he replies flatly. He catches your wrist in his hand, his thumb finding your pulse point just like it always does, and tugs you forward. “Now move.”

There are no streetlights in the dark district. At least, not as many as you’d find in the neighbourhoods made to accommodate the city’s human populace. You’re lucky the moon is out tonight, hanging full and heavy in the sky overhead, otherwise your journey through the labyrinthine back alleys where you had fled would have been even more unnavigable than they already were.

Sakusa doesn’t struggle to see in the dim light as he drags you along behind him, yet another reminder of the fact that this place was built for his kind—not for yours.

Yet another reminder of how the two of you are so very different.

It’s only slightly brighter when you make it back to the main drag—stepping out onto the street to see the soft glow of neon signs in windows, the muted glimpses of light as doors open into the businesses that line the street as shadowy patrons file in and out. You swallow thickly as you realize that this is because the people working in these establishments are mostly human, like you, and the lights serve as a beacon to guide them through the doors—like a lighthouse leading ships into the rocky shoreline to run aground.

Sakusa steers you towards the street corner with a hand on the small of your back and the other still tight on your wrist. He seems to be shielding you from view as best he can—his broad, imposing body following the movement of yours, as though he’s making every attempt to remain as inconspicuous as possible.

It doesn’t work.

“Omi-omi!” a voice calls, cajoling and gregarious.

Sakusa freezes, his grip on your wrist tightening.

Before you can blink there’s a man in front of you—tall, with tousled blonde hair and a dark undercut, wearing a suit that looks as expensive as Sakusa’s though the top three buttons of his dress shirt are undone in a more ostentatious way—and he stoops down to meet your gaze, almost nose to nose.

You don’t even have a chance to yelp, the sound stuck behind the breath of air that lodges itself in your throat.

Red eyes framed by thick lashes blink at you slowly.

“And who are you?”

Sakusa quickly tugs you behind him, leaving you to peer at the unexpected newcomer from around the sleeve of his suit jacket.

“Hey now,” the man laughs, but it sounds almost warm. You don’t feel threatened by him—though you’re sure you should if the speed with which he appeared before you and the red hue of his eyes are anything to go by. “I just asked her a little question, Omi.”

Sakusa stays silent, his body between the two of you like an impregnable wall. You’re sure he’s glowering even if you can’t see his face from your place behind his back.

The blonde looks to you again, quirking an eyebrow in place of repeating his question, and you introduce yourself quietly in response.

“No shit? Yer Omi-kun’s girl?” A wide smile breaks across his inhumanly handsome face. “Ya never told us she’s a—“

“Fuck off, Miya.” Sakusa’s voice is low and warning, and you fight back a shiver at the unfamiliar hostility in his tone.

You’ve heard Kiyoomi upset before, but now? He sounds downright vicious.

But even as the uttered threat hangs heavy in the air, you heartbeat can’t help but flutter at being called his girl. At the fact that this Miya seemed to know of you by name, though you’d never once heard of him.

“Miya Atsumu,” the blonde speaks again, an unruffled smile still lifting the corner of his lips as he introduces himself. “Nice to finally meet ya. Dunno if you know it, but yer all this old man ever talks ab-”

“That’s enough,” Sakusa snaps, but the damage has effectively be done: you know they can both hear the sudden excited acceleration of your treacherous pulse. “Don’t you have somewhere to be?”

“But she’s just so sweet,” Atsumu whines a little, peeking further over Kiyoomi’s shoulder to grin at you, inching ever so slightly closer.

Sakusa pushes him back forcefully with a hand wrapped around his throat, so quickly you barely see it happen. A look is exchanged between the two men, tension crackling in the space dividing them. They’re fairly evenly matched in terms of build—both tall and broad in stature—but you can’t deny that there’s just something more imposing about the darker haired individual and the way he carries himself.

His grip around Atsumu’s throat is so tight, you know that a human neck would have already snapped under the force of it.

After a few painfully tense moments, Kiyoomi lets his hand drop.

“C’mon Omi, y’know I’m only playin’ with ya.” Atsumu laughs, clapping a hand on his shoulder that Sakusa swiftly brushes off. “But yer gonna wanna get this little lamb outta here before the other boys catch wind of her.”

You sense he means it literally.

“They aren’t as well behaved as I am, after all,” Atsumu winks at you as he says it, something playful and mischievous lilting through his voice, and you can’t help but smile a little bit at his charm.

Sakusa scoffs, taking you by the waist and pulling you into his side as he begins to lead you away.

“Seeya later sweets!” Atsumu calls after you, and you turn back to see him waggling his fingers flirtatiously, a glint of fang peeking out from his quirked lips.

You almost hope he’s right.

“Put this on.”

You’re a few paces away when you feel the weight of Kiyoomi’s coat settle upon your shoulders, the command grunted at you with no room to protest.

It’s to mask your scent, you realize, and you grip the lapels between your trembling fingers, drawing it a little tighter around your frame.

“It won’t do nearly as much as you think it will,” the man at your side’s tone is disparaging, as though mocking the thought you hadn’t even expressed, “but it will mark you.”

“Mark me?” you reply quietly, struggling to match his pace as he guides you down the road towards the familiar outline of his sleek black sports car.

He glances at you from the corner of his eye, a glimpse of red in the dim night.

“As mine.”

The drive out of the dark district is tense.

The only sound in the car is the soft rumble of the engine as Sakusa guns it, driving far faster than you’d ever dare. Soon the unlit streets give way to those illuminated by far more streetlights overhead, the unsettling atmosphere of the forbidden district easing with every block you travel outside of it.

You’re well beyond the dark district’s limits when you finally dare to speak beyond the two apologies you’ve already meekly offered up to no avail.

“Did you…” you trail off before you finish your thought, suddenly wrought with doubt that you should bring the subject up.

“I didn’t get the chance,” he understands even without you saying it, his voice stilted as he replies. Though you can’t see his mouth beneath his mask, you know his lips are pulled into a thin line, the tightness of his throat a telltale sign of the clench in his covered jaw.

“Oh,” you respond, quiet and apologetic. “We can go back, I could-“

“You’ve done enough for one night, don’t you think?” Sakusa hisses, and you watch as his knuckles tighten as they grip the steering wheel.

He draws in a breath that you swear shakes a little on the inhale.

“Do you have any idea how dangerous that stunt you pulled was? How badly this night could have ended if I didn’t happen to catch your scent?” His fury is apparent in his tone, but his eyes never leave the road even as he scolds you. “Do you know what could have happened to you if I hadn’t gotten to you first?”

“I’m sorry,” you whisper for the third time since you’d taken your seat on the passenger’s side.

You hear Sakusa swallow thickly beside you.

“So you’ve said,” he mutters lowly in reply.

You don’t speak again for the rest of the drive.

Sakusa’s penthouse is the same as it always is as the two of you step through across the threshold after a long, silent elevator ride up to the fourteenth floor.

Spacious and luxurious, with sumptuous interiors and priceless art lining the walls, it has the feeling of a museum more than a home. Immaculately clean, with not a speck of dust to be seen lingering on any surface. The entire place feels practically unlived in, an almost uncanny atmosphere hanging in the air.

Imposing. Tidy. Unliving.

Perhaps the space is a better representation of its occupant than you give it credit for.

You trail along behind Sakusa quietly, following on his heels after removing your shoes in the entryway and handing him back his suit jacket to hang up.

You linger on one side of the kitchen as he crosses the cold marble floor towards the refrigerator, fidgeting nervously with your fingers.

You watch as he wrenches the door of the appliance open, light spilling out across the impeccably polished floor and dancing along the stainless steel finishes around the room. It’s predictably empty, save for a dozen little silver packets with white capped nozzles on the centre shelf. He grabs one, not even bothering to let the door shut before he’s cracking open the pouch and lifting it to his lips.

It’s not what he needs.

You know that.

You know that bagged blood isn’t as nutritious or as satiating at the real thing. Not in comparison to a fresh feed.

He’d explained it to you once: he sustains himself, as most modern vampires do, on packaged, processed, pasteurized blood—though it’s the best money can buy, to be sure—and only goes to feed when he absolutely needs it.

The blood den you’d followed him to that night was an exclusive, members only club—reserved for the most respected and elite of his kind, with a price tag to match. It was how you’d known where to find him in the first place: it’s the only place he trusts the safety and quality of. He knows they only hire the best servers, take excellent care of them, and don’t overexploit them like a lot of other blood service establishments do.

You watch as he swallows down the contents of the sachet; one, two, three long gulps and then it’s empty. His nose twitches a little as he squeezes the last drops out, like the taste is unpleasant, or at the very least disappointing.

He reaches immediately for another.

Your eyes follow the bob of his adam’s apple raptly with each swallow.

“Stop it,” Sakusa growls, crushing the empty packet in his hand. He doesn’t turn to look at you—his eyes fixed to the marble countertop in his shining, underutilized kitchen.

“What?” you ask him, blinking slowly at your eyes flicker up to his face.

“I can smell you from here,” he spits, finally turning to glower at you. “You’re practically dripping.”

Your eyes widen, legs clenching unconsciously together on the opposite side of the room. You can feel it: the slickness between your thighs, the slide of skin on skin as they meet at the apex, the sticky pull of your damp panties over your cunt.

“What about this is so arousing to you?” Sakusa stalks over to you, crowding you against the wall. “What about watching me feed gets you so wet?”

“It’s just… I-I—“

“You what?” Sakusa has no patience for your stammering, no patience for anything when you smell so good and he’s so thirsty.

“I wanna help you, Kiyo.” It’s not the first time you’ve brought it up. Not even the fifth time. You’ve begged him so many times to feed from you, only to have him shut you down on each and every occasion.

You reach up, slowly smoothing your hands along the firm planes of his chest. Your touch is tentative, like you’re approaching an animal that you fear might bite, but you revel in the feeling of the chiselled musculature hidden underneath the soft Egyptian cotton of his button-down.

Kiyoomi shudders under the gentleness of your touch, like even after all this time he’s not used to the way you imbue so much care into every simple graze.

Your pulse pounds.

“You’re impossible,” the man above you growls, teeth gnashing together as he forces the words through them. But there’s something else there: a fracture in his composure that you’ve never seen before, a fissure in the carefully maintained pretence of control he usually wears that you know is threatening to give way.

You stand on your tiptoes, gently fisting the collar of his shirt, and pull him into a kiss.

Sakusa tries to deny you what you want, tries to keep the kiss chaste; a simple brush of his mouth against yours. But the slightest little mewl from the back of your throat makes him snap—his lips parting as he presses you more firmly into the wall behind you, taking your face in one large hand and tipping your head back so he can kiss you like he’s taking it from you.

Your tongues tangle, slick and wet, and you taste the lingering tang of copper.

It makes something flare in the pit of your stomach: a tight coil of arousal, burning white with jealousy as you kiss the taste of someone else’s blood right out of his mouth.

Another growl rumbles through Sakusa’s chest as he smells the fresh wave of slick that seeps out between your legs, shoving the hand that’s not holding your face beneath the hem of your skimpy dress—right under the lace of your panties.

He wastes no time teasing you—he doesn’t need to considering the mess that’s already smeared itself along the tops of your legs. Sakusa’s long, lithe fingers crook the moment they slide inside of you, and he holds you upright on your unsteady legs by the grip on your pussy and the press of his body into yours alone.

He finds that spot that has your eyes rolling back effortlessly—like he always does.

“Is this what you wanted?” Kiyoomi pulls his mouth from yours and pants into your hairline as he rests his chin against your temple, his voice tight and angry. “What you were so desperate for that you walked into a district full of beasts who wouldn’t hesitate for an instant to tear out your throat?”

You moan.

“Kiyo, please,” you beg mindlessly, chest heaving with sobs that slip out before they even seem to fully form, crackling through your words. “Want it, wanna feel you, wanna feed you, please.”

Kiyoomi has had centuries to perfect his patience, to master his thirst, to develop a sense of self-control that most vampires never achieve. He’s a legacy—a member of a clan so old it’s seen the rise and fall of dynasties, empires, and eras. He’s stronger than a human mind can fathom, body corded with a power that could rase a city to the ground with nothing but his bare hands.

And you—foolish and fragile and human as you are—are the one who manages to break him.

Kiyoomi’s mouth drags down the column of your throat, tongue pressing against the place your pulse pounds most violently under your impossibly delicate skin.

“Please, please, please,” you whimper, fingers tangling in his dark curls as you hold him against your jugular. “I love you, Kiyo, s’much. Let me give you what you need.”

He lets out one long, low groan, and then you feel his teeth pierce your neck.

It should hurt, but it doesn’t.

Then you feel it: a euphoric warmth that spreads through you, turning your body pliant and your legs to jelly.

You’ve heard about this before—read about it in trashy magazines you bought with flushing cheeks from the checkout counter at convenience stores, poured over posts in forums on the internet that described the experience in first-hand detail that was a little more believable. Feeding a vampire is an intimate, incredibly sensual experience for a human.

A rush of hormones floods your system as he feeds from you, triggered by a chemical in his own saliva that keep you willing and writhing as he sates his thirst—an evolutionary response to make it easier for vampires to lure their prey and keep them in their clutches.

Because who would ever try to run when it feels this good?

People get addicted to the rush, and you understand it now as you float up up up on the high of Kiyoomi drinking from you. You finally understand how it leads people to jobs at blood dens, or even selling themselves on the seedier corners of the dark district just to get their fill.

Or more appropriately, their drain.

Kiyoomi groans, a primal, beatific sound, and you watch with hazy eyes as he pulls away from you. He throws his head back, fangs bared and smeared in crimson.

Blood.

Your blood.

You crash into your orgasm with no warning at all.

Sakusa’s fingers inside of you don’t stop moving as you ride the sharp edge of your release, clinging to him as desperately as your walls do to the digits trapped between them.

Before you can even blink you’re sprawled across his bed and his teeth are sinking into your neck again—on the other side of your throat this time—a perfectly symmetrical pair of bite marks framing the delicate column of your throat.

You don’t have time to question how you get to his bedroom so quickly. Don’t have time to notice that your pretty dress is torn in half—leaving your flushed skin bared as the two sides of a garment that used to be united hang limply on either side of your body. At least not enough time before you’re cumming again with a strangled cry of Kiyoomi’s name.

Your toes curl at your back bows, your body drawn so tightly you feel like you might snap.

He pulls back to watch you writhe underneath him—scarlet dripping down to the fair, chiseled point of his chin. His eyes are wild: red with fresh blood and a glint that’s downright insatiable.

Kiyoomi descends slowly down the bed, down your body, leaving open-mouthed kisses as he goes while you fight to catch the breath that evades you. Crimson lip prints trail in his wake that dry like an iron-ochre map imprinted to your skin.

Your panties are long gone as he settles between your legs—though you couldn’t even begin to guess where. He takes your thighs in his hands, guiding them up and apart, hooking one leg over his shoulder while the other is pressed back towards your waist. He drags his tongue along your skin before his teeth sink into the soft flesh of your inner thigh, and another wave of warmth ripples through you to override the ebbing pleasure of your second orgasm. A throb of lust tightens in your core, sending another drip of slick along your folds.

“Kiyoomi,” you call to him, breathless and wanting. Your tongue feels heavy in your mouth, your vision fuzzy along the edges.

He pulls away from your thigh, laving his tongue over the two crescent shaped imprints of his teeth in your skin to soothe the wound—or not miss a drop.

“Yes?” his voice is even as he responds, but the feral look in his eyes betrays him.

“Do I taste good?” you whisper, feeling the corners of your lips pull in a drowsy little smile.

He pauses for a moment, pressing one last kiss to the bite mark between your legs before crawling back up the bed to cradle your face between his palms. It’s hard to focus your eyes, even when he’s so close to you, and nearly impossible to make your tongue cooperate in speech—as drunk off the feeling of him as he is the taste of you.

“You’re divine,” his words are breathed out like a prayer: reverent and pious.

Kiyoomi’s hands guide you where he wants you, settling your head gently against the soft down of his pillows, holding your quivering thighs back as he positions himself on his knees between them. He drags the head of his cock through the mess between your legs, the hot, velvety soft petals of your slick cunt parting as he pushes through them, the tip of his length nudging at the puffy, sensitive swell of your clit.

You can’t take his teasing, not after you’ve already cum twice, not when you already feel so spent. He seems to sense this before you muster the strength to do anything other than whimper, and suddenly he’s sinking into you.

“Oh—oh!” you cry out, voice breaking between the repetition of the word. “Kiyoomi s’too much, too much.”

Kiyoomi shushes you gently, a contrast to the sharp thrust of his hips against yours. In spite of your words, of your hesitation, your walls still desperately suck him in.

His thumb drags through the drool that dribbles from the corner of your parted lips, forcing it back into your mouth as his ruby eyes flicker between the place his cock is disappearing into you and the way your features are screwing up in pleasure. Your lips wrap around the tip of his thumb instinctively, sucking on it as he continues to fuck into you with long, forceful strokes that have the sturdy bed shaking beneath you.

You moan around the finger in your mouth as Kiyoomi pummels into that spot that has your vision going white, stars crackling across your already blurry vision as your entire body flushes, over and over again. You feel the slick sheen of perspiration clinging to you, and Kiyoomi’s low body temperature feels positively frigid as his skin meets yours.

“Kiyo, kiss?” you slur around his thumb needily as want burns white hot in your belly, and he doesn’t hesitate to comply your desperate request, his chest pressing into yours as he dips down to capture your lips with his.

He bites your lip as your panting mouths move fervently together—a simple nick, but enough to send a burst of copper and salt across your tastebuds. Kiyoomi’s own tongue chases the taste as it washes across yours.

Another surge of heat and endorphins courses through you as his tongue presses his saliva into your wound, blood and spit smearing down your face, and you cum with soundless cry—fingers clumsy as you scrabble for purchase in his perfect, unyielding skin.

Kiyoomi’s toppling over the precipice soon after, though his hips don’t stop fucking you down into the mattress through both of your rapturous peaks.

This is different from the other times he’s allowed himself to touch you; lacking the restraint that up until this point he’s been so steadfast in exerting. Limbs and lust and breaths entwined, you hardly feel like two bodies at all.

You’re one in every way, body and soul, down to the blood that runs through your veins.

You know, you both know, that nothing will ever feel like this again.

That nothing will ever satisfy either of you in place of it—in place of what you've found in each other.

The two of you are well and truly damned.

Together.

#sakusa kiyoomi x reader #sakusa x reader #kiyoomi x reader #sakusa kiyoomi #sakusa kiyoomi x you #sakusa x you #sakusa kiyoomi smut #sakusa smut #kiyoomi smut #haikyuu smut #hq fic #hq writing #writing

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avvail · 2 years ago

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tw: kidnapping, non-con drugging

The boy skidded to a halt, almost crashing into a tall body lurking in the middle of the street. He fumbled to steady his footing from the brick wall of a man that blocked his way, brows furrowed instantly in annoyance.

The sun was setting beyond the horizon and the sky had gone a dark red, with ashy grey clouds filling the expanse. The mask sitting on the man’s face made the boy initially think this was Mercenary. But when his head tilted down, finally drawing his attention to the smaller boy, he realised it wasn’t.

The child instantly went sheepish and blushed in embarrassment, having made a fool out of himself in front of an odd stranger.

“Sorry, mister,” he grumbled out, staring up at him with unblinking eyes. He was dressed in a similar get up to Mercenary, with the mask and all. Skulking in the shadows until he found what he was looking for...

The child felt uneasy as the man chuckled under his breath, folding his arms across his chest.

“It’s real creepy lurking on the streets,” the boy sniffed as he imitated his stance, puffing out his chest. “Especially with a Halloween costume.”

The masked man cocked his head. “And don’t you think its a little irresponsible to be talking to strangers?”

The child pouted. “I can look after myself! I’m not a kid.”

“That so?” came the dryly amused response. The boy nodded his head firmly; he hated people thinking he was some weak brat. Mercenary did it all the time and it grated profusely on his nerves. Giving the man one final sweep, the child hummed and blinked up at him.

“Are you one of those contract killers?”

The masked man didn’t move. “Yes, I am.”

Oh. The boy wasn’t expecting such a blunt answer. Was he telling him because he thought he was harmless? He scrunched up his nose and narrowed his eyes at him.

“Then can you kill somebody for me?”

The killer shrugged his shoulders, as if in playful exasperation, and reached for his belt. “Sure. After I’ve done this job.”

Pinched between his two fingers was a rectangular card, flashing it towards the boy smoothly. He took it from him, all while giving him a perplexed, yet judgmental stare.

“Contract killers don’t have business cards.”

“This one does,” he responded with a light chuckle. “How else are people meant to find me?”

“But Merce–” The boy caught himself and stumbled to cover his tracks. “–the people on the television shows say it’s just through the right connections.”

The masked man hummed. “You’re old enough to tell fiction apart from reality, aren’t you?”

The child’s expression wrinkled in anger and he sent him a deadly glare. He flipped over the card and glanced at the front, making a note to ask Mercenary about this guy. He seemed illegitimate and wondered if he was any good at his job at all.

“Of course I am, I’m not...” His heart sank to his boots and his words fizzled out on his tongue. His eyes were wide as he stared at the name on the front of the card, a name Mercenary had warned him about, a name he was meant to stay away from.

Stupid.

It was Mercenary’s rival. The rival that was out to kill them both. Along the ground came a bright stream of light, and the sound of a car slowly rolling up the pavement. The boy swallowed the parched lump in his throat and subtly glanced behind him, watching the black car come to a stop.

He bit the inside of his cheek and turned his focus back on the killer, who was already staring at him. The child could almost feel the smirk.

“I have to go...” He whispered shakily. He couldn’t hide the fear in his voice or his body. “I have to go.”

He turned to run, but a strong force yanked him back by the collar of his shirt, sending him crashing onto the hard floor. He scraped his hands and hissed in pain.

“Stay a bit,” the masked man cooed, his haunting steps coming closer by the second. “After all, I did say I had a job to do.”

The child scrambled onto his feet, ready to break off in a run. But he felt huge arms grab him and yank him back into the hard body, pinning him there. He instantly began thrashing frantically, swinging his legs in the air as he was carried back.

“Help!” He screamed, shredding his vocal chords as tears welled in his eyes. “Mercenary, help! He–”

A gloved hand closed around his mouth and nose, cutting him off. His fingers dug into the man’s wrist as he squirmed uselessly, gasping in pain when he felt the smack of hard leather seats beneath his body.

He lashed out with his legs and kicked viciously as the killer climbed in afterwards, shutting the car door behind him. There was something in his hand and the child cried out in fear, hands scrambling at the locked door opposite.

“No–” He wailed, terror flashing in his eyes as a hand wound through his hair and tugged him back. Something sharp pricked at his neck, and the boy tried reaching lazily for the door handle. His vision started swirling and his arm slumped against the seats.

Voices became too hazy to hear, and in a daze, the small child fell deeply unconscious.

continued here

#whump #whump writing #whump scenarios #whump prompt #mercenary and child #child and mercenary #mercenary #child #contract killers #a+s #writing snippet #snippet #story snippet #not a prompt #writing #my writing #avvail

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i2woo · 2 years ago

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ATEEZ as ✶ songs in my playlist !

ot8 x gn!reader ✶ fluff, smut (sacrilege, oral [m. receiving] dubcon), angst (cheating mentions, alcohol [?], yandere behavior, stalking, murder/violence.). 2,628 total words.

if any of the stated warnings make you uncomfortable, either skip that members part or dont read! your safety matters more than a reblog or like!!

individual warnings at the start of each members part.

P.SH 293 ✶ E.T. - Katy Perry

✶ none.

Something about him always felt off, like he wasn't from this earth. It was stupid, childish even. But you couldn't shake the feeling he was different. Your roommates' weird little habits never used to stick out to you. They were never suspicious to you. Just normal little things.

Sometimes you wish you had never gotten that assignment. ‘Extraterrestrials’ what kind of bullshit is that? The research you did for it messed with you. Made you suspicious of everyone and everything. You tried getting past it, but every little thing you saw started to drive you crazy. You surely didn't believe in aliens? Right?

Seonghwa started to notice the way you observed him. How your eyes lingered on him when he would tinker with things in his spare time. He thought you were just trying to learn more about him. With the way, you went through his stuff, at least. You had to have thought he was stupid. He kept his room perfect. Nothing was improper until you started snooping.

It took a few months, but you finally found evidence against him. Reading someone's journal may not be morally correct, BUT it helped you so much. You were on your way back to his room, journal in hand, ready to confront him. Running into something and falling on your ass wasn't in your plan.

“Ah, I see you had my journal. Find anything interesting? Anything you were searching for?” he bent down, picking up the book and offering you a hand. Reluctantly, you took it. “I-i can explain!” you felt your heart pounding, face heating up. He caught you. Why weren't you more careful! “Go on. Tell me all your thoughts about me being a monster. How scared you are. I have all day.”

͏͏͏͏͏͏ ͏͏͏͏͏͏ ͏͏͏͏͏͏ ͏͏͏͏͏͏⠀⠀⠀ ͏͏͏͏͏͏ ͏͏͏͏͏͏ ͏͏͏͏͏͏ ͏͏͏͏͏͏ ͏͏͏͏͏͏⠀⠀⠀ ͏͏͏͏͏͏ ͏͏͏͏͏͏ ͏͏͏͏͏͏ ͏͏͏͏͏͏⠀ -ˋˏ ༻❁༺ ˎˊ-

K.HJ 286 ✶ Cupid's Chokehold - Gym Class Heroes

✶ yandere behavior, violence.

He knew he fell in love easily. He knew it hurt him but you, you were different! he could feel it! hongjoong called his mom, telling her all about you. about how much he loved your hair, the way you walked with a certain confidence, how your smile lit up the whole room. god he was obsessed!

He got off the phone with her, falling back onto his bed, staring at the ceiling, mind full of you. He stood up, grabbing his camera bag and ran out of the apartment. He made his way to your job, sitting in his car across the street from the little cafe. His face lit up when he saw you. He fumbled with the camera. ‘Haven't done this in awhile, heh’ he brought the foreign object up to his face, snapping shots of you talking to customers. He noticed one man, he was so touchy with you, you didn't like it! No one but him should touch you. You're his! He sat there, a scowl etched onto his features

He sat there and waited. Why did this creep have to stay there for so long? He slumped in his seat, getting annoyed. Hongjoong jumped up as he saw him leave. He grabbed his tools, following the man to an alley. He snuck up behind him and struck him with some random brick he found on the floor. The man fell to the ground with a thud.. He looked down the alley, making sure he was alone. He bashed the man's skull in, beating him to a bloody pulp. “Dont touch what's mine.” he spat he walked back to his car, taking a few more pictures of you before driving off.

J.YH 347 ✶ Lowlife - Poppy

✶ none.

Life felt like hell. Everything was going wrong. You got fired, you got kicked out of your apartment, and your fucking car got towed. The world was against you. It had to be The only good thing that happened was your sister letting you stay with her. Her place was small. A nice 2 bedroom apartment downtown. You envied her. She always had everything going perfectly. ‘Cunt.’ It's been a month since you moved in. No luck on the job search.

The lobby of the building was comforting to you. Something about the atmosphere made you feel safe. You were down there one night, trying to get away from your sister. You noticed the manager put up some fliers on the bulletin board. The second he walked away, you ran over to it. "Job opening at a restaurant on xx street! No experience required!" you gasped, dialing the number immediately, hoping they were still open. You let out a breath you didn't even know you were holding when they answered.

The interview went perfectly. You got the job, and it felt like everything was going well! until your sister kicked you out. "I don’t have anywhere to go!" you shouted at her as she packed your things up. "Go find someplace! Go live with Mom! I don’t care. I'm starting a family and I can't have my sister here!"

You used the little bit of money you had to rent a room at a shitty hotel until you could get an actual place to live. The building was old, old and gross. All the plants were dead or dying, no matter how hard the poor old couple tried to keep them alive. Speaking of the old couple, they had a son. a son that was at the motel very often. The two of you started to get close. He was the highlight of your lowlife. He gave you hope that things would get good again. jeong yunho The man who made you happy, the man who made you realize life isn't shit, the man you fell for.

K.YS 257 ✶ End Up Here - 5sos

✶ mentions of alcohol, sex.

Yeosang felt uncomfortable at the party. All the drunk people vomiting and making out with each other wasn't exactly his scene. He pushed through the crowd, trying to reach the front door when you walked in. he felt everything stop. A spotlight was on you as you entered in slow motion. Everyones eyes were on you. The guys flocked to you like vultures around a dead body. They were all over you. Asking for your name. He felt his face heat up and ran to the bathroom. “don't be an idiot. don't fuck this up.” he pepped himself up in the mirror.

Squeezing out the door, he leaned against a nearby wall, watching the way you moved. He was so distracted by the thought of you he didn't even notice you coming over, “h-hey!” he cursed himself for stuttering in front of you. “Nice shirt. Cobain?” he nodded, that being the last thing he remembered.

He woke up the next morning, a major headache torturing him. He looked around, trying to see where he was. His gaze lead to your resting body. Parts of last night flashed through his mind. Your moans, his grunts, the way you screamed his name. The memories made him blush. Again, he was so lost in thought he didn't notice the way you started to stir and wake up. “Good morning…last night was great…” you crawled over to him, your thumb came up to his cheek, smudging your red lipstick stain away. How the fuck did he end up here? With you?

C.SN 229 ✶ El Diablo - Elena Tsagrinou

✶ sacrilege, dubcon, smut buildup but no actual smut.

The sound of his voice echoed through the empty building. Just a few minutes ago the pews were filled with families, all praying to god, all being good in his eyes. all except one. Choi san. He was great at keeping up the good boy image around adults but everyone at school knew how he actually was. He was a heartbreaker. A cherry popper. You hated him…you tried to! You really did! But, he was gorgeous. You had to admit you had a small crush.

You never thought he'd notice you. Never thought he'd even walk by you and acknowledge your presence in the halls. He called you his angel. Every day in class he’d ask to be partners with his ‘little angel’. You didn't hate the name, it made you blush every time he used it. You just never thought he'd be using it in this sense.

“San, we shouldn't do this! Especially not here! what if we get cau-” he put his hand over your mouth, “c’mon angel, don't you love me?” you felt the angel and devil appear on your shoulders as he lowered his hand, the two arguing. you looked up at him, staring into his eyes. “I'm yours…” he smirked, pulling you close to him as he hiked your skirt up. “You’ll always be my angel, even after I ruin you. My pretty angel”

S.MG 360 ✶ Wildest Dreams - Taylor Swift

✶ angst, cheating mentions.

He started coming home later than usual. Adding 30 minutes each night. He knew you knew. You smelt the cheap perfume on him everytime he came to lay in your shared bed. It used to be warm and inviting. Now, it's just a frozen hell. You knew he’d end it soon. The love of your life would be gone. You couldn't handle it. Life without him seemed miserable. It was torture with him but without looked so much worse. You could put up with it, yeah?

You spent hours convincing yourself everything would be fine. That he wouldn't leave you. And he didn't! He stopped seeing the girl, and started paying attention to you. You felt like you could breathe again, like life mattered. All until he left you. You saw the flowers and note on the table expecting it to be something sweet. Your smile faded reading the words. ‘It’s over. It ended a long time ago, I just didn't want to hurt you. I'm sorry’ what kind of dick breaks up with someone like this?

It hurt at first. It felt like someone cut you open and poured all kinds of salt on you. You got over it. In a way. You just blocked everything out, went numb. You two arranged a meetup to give him his stuff that he left behind. He told you to meet at the location of your first date. A small cliff that overlooked the city. Driving there left you breathless. The memories all came flooding in, kicking at your emotions. His car pulled up a few minutes after yours.

He got out before you, walking to the spot of your first kiss. You grabbed the box, holding onto it for dear life. “Hey.” you spoke first, wanting to just get this over with. You tried keeping your guard up, it disappeared when you looked up at him. You shoved the box full of his clothes and pictures of the two of you into him. “..Thanks.” you nodded, starting to walk away. Your feet stopped you.”uh, Mingi?” he made a huh sound, confused on why you were still talking to him. “nevermind..” Those were the last words of that chapter. You closed him out for good.

J.WY 568 ✶ Cpr - CupcakKe

✶ smut, oral (m. receiving)

You were scared to try it. He mentioned you giving him head while he was gaming a long time ago never thinking you'd actually do it but, you were tired of him not paying attention to you. You were tired of his empty promises for date nights and hanging out. You could've gotten rid of the game or something along those lines but you didn't want a fight. You hid in the bathroom for a few minutes, calming yourself down and convincing yourself this would work. “Okay.. just breathe y/n. In and out.”

Gripping the doorknob, you opened the door, walking into your shared room with him. He didn’t even move.. You thought, upset that he was so focused on winning that stupid game. You took small steps toward him and his setup, heart jumping out of your chest. You sank to your knees, it felt weird to you. You hadn't done it in almost a month. Ignoring the feeling, you crawled underneath his desk, hands going up his thighs. He looked down at you for a second, confusion etched onto his face. Staring up at him with puppy eyes, you made your way up to his dick. You paused for a second, fear washing over you. You carried on, palming him until you felt him start to get hard.

You smirked, he was so easy. “Oh, woo..I’ve missed you so much..” you reached up to the waistband of his sweats, tugging at them until he got the message to help you out. Once you finally got him out of them you stared. Stared so unbelievably hard at him. Had it really been so long you forgot what he looked like? You wrapped your hand around him, giggling at how he gasped from you just holding it. You took your hand off, spitting in it for some form of lube and started stroking him. His reactions almost made the wait worth it! Almost. You finally noticed he was in a call with his friends, the wheels in your head started turning. You scooted closer, placing a gentle kiss on his tip, slowly moving down and making the kisses sloppy.

You licked one long strip from the base to the tip, soon taking him into your mouth entirely. He bit his lip, trying his hardest to not let his friends know what was happening. He squeezed his eyes shut, all focus on the game lost. He opened them for a second to mute his mic so he could be as loud as he wanted. His noises filled the small room.

It had only been a few minutes and he was embarrassingly close. It may have been awhile since you two did this but you’d always be able to tell if he was gonna cum soon. You wanted to mess with him and not let him cum but he was being too cute! His face was all scrunched up and his sounds were oh so adorable. You always loved when he looked like this. It was your favorite side of your boyfriend. “Go ahead, baby. cum.“ you stuck your mouth on him one last time, letting him know you wanted him to cum down your throat. A mantra of curses and moans fell from his lips. He smiled down at you, his heart fluttering at the sight of his leftover cum spilling down the side of your lips.

C.JH 290 ✶ Ghost of You - 5sos

✶ angst.

He never really got over you. He still thought of you everyday and how he could've made you stay. The memory of that night repeats in his mind like a broken tape. He checks your socials from time to time, seeing how you're doing so well without him while he's just miserable. He hates it. He doesn't know which emotions to feel. Anger? Hurt? Sadness? They all felt the same at some points.

It really was hell for him. He couldn't even sleep on your side of the bed or wash the lipstick stain off your old coffee cup. He's tried but everytime he just breaks down. It wasn't fair. He deserves to try again. Especially after this torture hes gone through. He can still remember your scent and how you two would dance around your apartment, giggling and telling eachother how much you loved one another. The only comfort he had was drinking. It numbed the pain but it stopped after a while.

He checked your instagram again, jealousy coursing through his veins at how you moved on with some dickhead you barely knew. Hegot up, showered and cleaned. Start shoving your things into a box to throw out. He was at the back of his closet, looking for anything you had there when he saw it. Your old Zeppelin shirt shoved into the corner. He remembered you wearing it when you ran away. When you felt like the world was collapsing in on you. He picked it up, smelling it to see if it had any of your old perfume on it. Nothing. He realized he’s lost everything. His light, his shine, his love. He's just a shell of a man. You caused this. You ruined Choi Jongho.

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