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#I think you're the first person to ask about my thought process ever
luimagines · 2 years
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Oooh what inspired you to do wars as winds dad xo
Well! The request included Warrior as one of the parents, so that helps. XD
I'm also a huge fan of Older Brother! Warrior in literally everything. But just tweak it a little bit. (I think that Warrior would have been projecting from Young Link from the war- even if Wind was there too- but Time is a grown man now. So Wind gets the brunt of it- two fold- hence Dad tm.)
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wolviensabes · 1 month
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Logan and pregnancy.
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RQ: 'Logan taking care of his pregnant girlfriend perchance 🤔' -@wheezyth3dem0n
Warnings: F!reader, pregnancy themes, written in HC style.
A/N: I just wrote pregnancy hcs on my main blog so let's keep the theme going. Ignore grammar mistakes, not edited.
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Logan knows you're pregnant instantly when the scent of your hormones change.
He looks to you and he isn't sure how to feel just yet. He hadn't planned on getting you pregnant, it wasn't something that he ever thought about. But it was his reality now, and he wasn't too sure on how to feel.
He was just a little wary jumping into something so permeant, considering your lifestyles. The dangers that are involved, all he thought about was how the baby would be in constant danger. Especially knowing it would most likely be mutant.
You were a little hurt, knowing he was a bit standoffish since the discovery, but after some thinking he had come around and explained what he was thinking about, and how he was just worried about its upbringing. It was reassuring that he comforted you in this sense, even if it initially hurt when he backed off.
"M'sorry, this is all...new to me. I never thought I'd be a dad...of all people." Logan grumbled to you, rubbing your back to try to reassure you that he was happy, it was just...a lot for him to take in.
When you begin to show, Logan's presence starts to become more and more. His missions are spread out a bit more, and he spends more time around you. At first, your pregnancy is mostly independent, besides him being around in the evening. You figure it's because he's still processing that you are carrying his kin, but as he starts to come around more often, you're surprised but decide not to mention it.
Logan starts to observe you closer, his hands often find your belly and rub it. He can hear the heartbeat, and he leans closer so he can rest by your belly. Most nights are like this when he's not holding you. He pays close attention to your habits, as well as schedule, memorizing everything you do day to day. When you get a little bigger, he notices daily tasks are a bit more difficult for you.
"Let me help," Logan insisted gruffly, watching you try to pick up clothes for laundry. He worded it more like a demand than offer, he didn't like how you were bending over so often.
"I got it, Logan, really," your stubbornness insisted you could handle it, but he had his doubts. He could see your clear struggle, he could sense you were tired but you were so stubborn.
"Enough." he demanded and gently pulled you away from the laundry, his arms strong around you and easily maneuvering you around. He sat you down and pointed at you. "Stay." he ordered.
Logan brings you food, he doesn't cook a lot but he still tries. He gets help from Jean or Storm. But he's always the one to bring it to you. He displays a lot of instinctual habits by now, especially since you're showing more now. Something inside him just...triggers when he sees your swollen belly. When you walk around the mansion for some exercise, he is right there with you, his eyes scanning the halls and every single person around you.
He growls at people who come close, he is so insanely protective over you now. It shocks you the first time he about lunges at Scott when he asked you how far along you were. "Logan!" you watched your feral boyfriend literally snarling at Scott.
"Get your eye off her, slim." he hissed, his voice was venomous and mean. Scott was just as surprised, even for Logan he was acting much more aggressive. You pulled Logan along, muttering an apology to Scott along the way.
"Logan what the hell! He was just asking how far I was," you muttered, your bristled boyfriend still had an irritated expression. His nostrils flared as he looked down at you. "Easy...it's fine. He's gone, just relax..." you rubbed your hands over his chest, soothing him from his protective mode.
He piles you into the shared room you have, he gets you all settled on the bed and cozy, there are so many blankets and pillows there and they act as excellent support for your large belly. He makes sure you're as comfy as possible, he fusses a lot by grumbling and making sure you have enough blankets. "Keep the baby warm." he grunts at you, covering you with a blanket as if your baby will get cold.
Logan likes to lay close to your belly, he can hear the baby and smell the change you emit because of all the hormones. He hears the baby moving around too, he enjoys listening to his little one in there.
You end up bound to the bed for a while, your ankles were so swollen and you were weak as the pregnancy progressed. You relied on him and he was more than happy to comply. He rubs your swollen ankles and feet, leaning forward and letting his facial hair tickle your belly.
When you feel your hormones flare, you get emotional and worried about labor and birth, all the normal worries for a mother to be. Logan sits with you and lets you vent your worries, but he is also the voice of reason during your emotional episodes. He always reassured you, telling you it would be alright, he was here with you, and he'd never let anything happen to you.
When your little one does arrive, it will be the most protected baby on the planet, not only the baby, but you too. Like hell anyone will get the chance to harm you with Logan by your side.
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Thanks for reading.
Dividers by @/strangergraphics
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sweetnans · 3 months
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"You know, for the past few days, I expected to see you sooner than later but It never came to my mind seeing you sitting here in the couch of my vacation home wearing flip flops and swimsuit briefs"
Katsuki was no fool when it came to you.
"What are you doing?" He asked, leaning with his arms into his knees.
"Washing my clothes?" You were dumbfounded by his question when he was watching you closely.
"Uh-uh no, you know what I mean"
You rolled your eyes. There wasn't really a way out of this. Bakugo had known you since you were little toddlers running in the mud and getting bruises and scratches, he knew you like the palm of his hands.
"Fine" You sat in front of him and played with your naked fingers. Yeah, you took off your engagement ring after you ran off your own wedding.
"I'm fucking listening, brat"
A man of patience.
"I didn't want to get married in the first place" you blurted out lifting a heavy weight of your chest. "I solely started to hate him in the process and I thought, hey, that's not cool"
"You sound exactly like Kirishima, disgusting" he rolled his eyes but you knew what he was doing, trying to make everything more bearable for you with his twisted and weird humor.
"I just, I love him really but it's not the quite of love when you see a person and feel all these explosions and you feel that you might be torn apart because of them, breaking down in a meltdown of hearts and flowers and-and confetti" you stuttered. "I know it's lame but, I really think that's what love should feel"
Oh, you just hit the nail. Poor him, he came all the way from Musutafu to Okuto Island to be there for his best friend but instead, he was there watching you describe all his feelings for you.
"Well if you don't feel like that when it comes to that bastard then that's it. You can force it" he shrugged.
Let's face it. He was happy to see you so chill about you splitting something that almost lasted what? four years? but, he was also happy that you didn't get married.
When you told him the news, he felt torn, but he shook the feeling right away to be by your side. When you didn't show up at the church, he couldn't help but feel the happiness rising up in his body.
It wasn't so hard to find you. The first thing that he did was use the spare key you gave him of your apartment and went through your stuff. It was classic you, always leaving tracing marks wherever you go. He found your apartment neat, so he thought that probably the fact that you ran off was something premeditated.
He found the receipts of your plane tickets when he snoop through your mail, and it clicked. He needed to see you.
"I guess you're right." You sighed and clapped your hands in your knees. You stood up to move closer to him and sit by his side. "Anyway, thanks for coming all the way here"
"Of course," he said and felt bold enough to add. "You've always been my girl, and I'll back you up any day of the week, no question asked"
"I'll pack my things so we can go back." You wiggled your toes and caught him staring at your weirdness, you let a laugh.
"Hah? Nah, that won't do. They won't give me back the days I asked to get here, " he said nonchalantly.
"Days? You mean-what? Bakugo Katsuki, are you telling me that you are willingly taking your days off? For me??" You laughed at him, but in a good way, he smirked at you, kicking your feet like a little child.
"Yeah yeah shithead, whatever, let's enjoy this little shack you got." he pressed his big ass hand in your mouth to keep your laughs quiet.
"There's only one bed, tho." You quirked a brow at him, but he just shrugged you off.
"Tch, like we never had shared a bed before," he rolled his eyes. "Now come on, I want to get in the fucking ocean and hopefully get bit by a shark so I can howitzer it to the moon"
"You're joking right now, Have you ever heard of meditation?" you stumbled through his giant feet, and he pushed you. You completely lost your balance but miraculously stayed still. "Oh fuck off you psycho"
"Ha-ha, you think you're funny, don't you?" He followed you, grabbing his suitcase to leave it in your room while you stretched yourself to get the towels.
"I am fucking funny you asshole" you poked your tongue out and threw the towels at his face.
The beach was just perfect. The sun glistening in your face, leaving you with sunkisses marks that would last for a few months, giving you the ideal tan that everyone in your agency will envy. Bakugo was at your side, skin dried after he made a run towards the ocean, trying to catch a fight with any animal or kid that would get on his way. He was resting with a magazine on his face because the sun hurt his eyes.
You took a peek at him, and the memories flooded in your brain. The first time his mom introduced you to play with the only kid that was alone. You remembered thinking how that was possible, well, after he tackled you and put your face in the ground, you knew. After that, and because you punched him in the gut, you were inseparable. You remembered you two walking to school in the morning and then studying together in your house in the afternoon. You remembered when you two got in UA and how excited he was even though he didn't demonstrate it. You remembered graduating by his side and the hangover after you went partying with your shared friends, how he took care of your drunk ass, even though he was drunk too. The nostalgia invaded you, but it felt like it was more than just that.
"You know, I know we don't say this very often," you said while taking off the magazine of his face to make him look at you, "but I love you, Katsuki."
He pretended to gag. He felt things on the pit of his stomach, and it only made it worse the fact that you, for the first time, didn't add the "as a friend" part.
"You are making me sick," he murmured, putting the magazine all over his face again to hide the redness in his cheeks.
"Say it back, you bastard," you screamed at him, tickling his ribs, which was still his weak point.
The gremlin spatted your hand away and then took both of your hands in one of his, locking them behind his head in the sand. The sudden movement made you squeak and land on his perfect and toned abs.
"You damn bastard, let me go!" You tried to release your hands from his grip, but it was useless. "At least tell me you love me too"
He loved you more than anything.
"Over my dead body." he closed his eyes and ignored you, completely zoning off your attempts to get your hands back and to avoid being laid on top of him.
"You're going to pay"
"I wanna see you try," he mocked you pinching your hips.
The thought of having other feelings for your best friend scared the shit out of you, but you knew, deep down, that maybe after seeing him caring so deeply for you, maybe just maybe, the feeling was something mutual.
Do not edit or reupload my works elsewhere! All rights reserved.
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ariestrxsh · 19 days
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🖤 content warning: 🖤 smut, teasing, masturbation, edging, innocence corruption, blowjob, mommy kink, praise, small age gap, pervy!virgin!chris, sub!chris, older!reader, softdom!reader, slow burn
🖤 author' note: 🖤 spoiler - there's a scene in this fic where chris saves the reader's nude without her permission. please don't ever do this irl. it's messed up.
🖤 summary: 🖤 chris might be a virgin, but he's certainly not innocent. while helping chris study for chemistry 101, he admits to you he's never done anything sexual, but the whole time he's undressing you with his eyes. you're both stubborn and waiting for the other person to make the first move. who will cave first?
Thank you to @jakewebberswifee for the pervy!virgin!chris idea. I immediately saw the vision when I saw this one in my asks, and I hope that you think I did it justice. (':
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'chemicals' part one
"Do you understand how I got this answer?" You asked Chris, and his gaze flicked up from your bare thighs to your eyes at the same time that you looked up at him from the page of his chemistry textbook. He was too busy imagining them as earmuffs, dreaming of diving between your legs to get a taste..
You guys sat side-by-side on his bed with the book between the two of you that contained diagrams and big words that Chris didn't really care to understand.
Chris wasn't doing well in his class, and his brother Nick had asked you if you could help him understand some of the concepts, considering you'd taken the same course your Freshman year of college a few years back and aced it.
He stared at you in silence. "Come on, Chris. You've gotta understand ionic bonds if you're gonna pass this class. Focus," you smiled at him, playfully slugging him in the arm while he wondered how that black, leather miniskirt you had on was conducive to him focusing on anything you had to say, much less anything having to do with Chemistry. Unless it was the sexual chemistry between the two of you.
"No, I get it. The elements share electrons and shit," Chris stared at your full lips while he nibbled on his own stuck in a fantasy about how they'd feel wrapped around the tip of his cock.
"But do you understand how many electrons they need to share to become a stable compound?" You intently looked at him, studying his expression while his perverted mind pretended that was some sort of lustful euphemism by some stretch of the imagination.
He had some electrons he wanted to share with you to help stabilize your compound.
"You know, I'm so sorry. I can't learn anything right now. My mind is somewhere else.." Chris shrugged at you. "Where's your mind?" You asked him, narrowing your gaze. In the gutter. "Just on some personal stuff," Chris replied, being as vague as possible to avoid telling you the vile thoughts about you that were clouding his focus.
"You know, you can talk to me about anything," You caressed his arm, and the feeling of your fingernails tracing against his flesh made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. He dreamt about how your french tips would feel carressing his back while he plowed you.
Why not use this as an excuse to get a little sympathy out of you?
"You know, I'm just a little nervous about this being my first year of college and being so.. inexperienced," he smirked. This surprised you to hear, considering the sex appeal Chris gave off.
"Weren't you in a long-term relationship in high school?" You inquired. "Yeah, a year and a half. But she was a good little Christian girl. Wouldn't fuck me no matter how much I begged," Chris bit his lip, lowering his voice.
You shifted around uncomfortably on his bed. The thought of Chris begging had you entertaining thoughts you weren't proud of.
"Anyway, we ended things right before summer started," Chris shot you a fake disappointed look. He wasn't lying about what had happened, but he'd had time to process it and wasn't actually affected by it anymore. However, you didn't need to know that.
"Awh, Chris," you said sympathetically, cradling his face and caressing his cheek with your thumb. His cock twitched in his pants at how caring your voice sounded while you consoled him. He imagined how the pad of your thumb would feel grazing his other head.
"Yeah, it's been really hard. And lonely," he told you, glancing down at his lap, secretly referring to his cock. His voice was drenched in lust. Chris might have been a virgin, but he certainly knew what he was doing.
"Let me know if you ever need help with it. I mean, if you ever need someone to talk to," your eyes widened as you tripped over your words, picking up on Chris' signals and pulling your hand back from his face.
You could have sworn he was flirting with you and making you all flustered on purpose, but you couldn't tell if he was the one being a pervert or if you were. A slight smirk came across his face as he relished in your slip up.
"Anyway, we don't have to study this tonight. You clearly have a lot going on right now. When I get back to my dorm, I'll just send you my notes from a few years ago if I still have them," you smiled at him, slinging your bag over your shoulder.
"Thanks, I really appreciate it. I'm sorry if you feel like I'm wasting your time," Chris apologetically looked up at you. He was lying. He loved wasting your time.
You paused, giving him a sympathetic look. "Chris, of course not. I'll see you again tomorrow for another study session," You rubbed his arm and smiled at him. "Text me if you need anything at all," you offered as you got up to walk out.
Chris was sad to see you go, but he loved to watch you leave. He was entranced by your ass, the shape of it in your leather skirt, and the way it slightly jiggled as your hips swayed while you strutted out of his room. Chris couldn't help the effect you had on him.
The second you closed the door to his dorm, he pulled off his shirt and took out his cock. He started fondling it while his mind was flooded by thoughts of you, keeping his strokes long, slow, and steady. Chris loved to tease himself. He almost adored it more than the act of actually getting off.
And after his relationship with his ex ended, Chris discovered the attention and reactions he'd get from women for still being so pure. He could have his way with almost any woman he wanted, but he was also holding out for the right one.
However, not in the same way as his ex. He was holding out because he liked dangling his virginity in front of women, seeing what kind of responses he could get out of them. Especially women who were a little older and a little more experienced. They'd often answer sympathetically and in an almost maternal manner, and nothing got him going more than that.
Some would get uncomfortable, some would flirt back, and some would outright throw themselves at him. He loved that he knew how to elicit their pity and also their desperation. Some of the more shy women would fumble over their words and blush while he taunted them with his innocence.
It was somewhat of a front, but he really hadn't had sex. He hadn't even gotten a blowjob or handjob before. The most he'd ever done was one night on his ex's couch when they'd gotten carried away in a heavy make out session, and she'd let Chris reach under her top and graze her nipples with his fingers. He could still remember how they hardened under his touch and the way she had mewled against his lip when he did this.
But he liked being a tease, and it forced him to empathize with his ex. He knew he probably could have had his way with you in his dorm room that night if he wanted, but he adored the slowburn. He liked the chase, and whether he was doing the chasing or being chased didn't really matter much to him.
He took his nails and ever so gently ran them up his length, biting his lip due to how amazing it felt. He took the pad of his thumb, trying to match the same tempo and pressure you'd used when you rubbed his cheek, and he started running his thumbprint over his tip, smudging the clear fluid that leaked out while he shut his eyes, shuddered, and smiled to himself.
He continued caressing the swollen mushroom-shaped head while he started to gently stroke his shaft, but he kept the pace unhurried and his touch soft, eliciting a wonderful feeling and stimulating all of his favorite nerve endings while he moaned your name.
He wondered what kinds of noises you'd make and how your face would look while you were being pleasured. He pictured you in all kinds of different positions while he pumped his hand back and forth a bit faster. His chest rose and fell at a quicker pace as his breathing pattern sped up.
He felt a familiar sensation in his stomach as he neared sweet release, but he reduced the speed of his strokes to draw it out a bit longer. His cock was already so sensitive, and the way he edged himself increased the sensitivity even more.
Chris did this for the next half hour, bringing himself as close as he could get to orgasm and then slowing down or stopping to savor the sensation a little longer. His mind swirled with images of you while he brought himself to the edge a final time.
He couldn't take it anymore. His cock was so responsive to his touch.. It begged for relief.
While delicately, expertly, and relentlessly teasing his tip, his dick started to pulse, and a rope of his hot, sticky fluid erupted with incredible pressure behind it, and painted his stomach, his chest, and a bead of it landed on his cheek. "Fuuuckkk," he let out in a shaky moan while he finished, draining every last droplet from his member.
His orgasm lasted several glorious seconds, the sensation rhythmically washing over him and leaving a buzzing feeling all over his body and a ringing in his ears once it ended. He slowly came down from it like a feather floating to the ground. He laid there with his eyes closed, wiped the drop of cum from his cheekbone, and smirked while his breath found its way back to him.
Later that night, you were in your own dorm room, reflecting on the study session you'd had with Chris. You couldn't put your finger on what it was about Chris that made you so wet for him, but you'd been thinking about it since you'd left his room.
Maybe it was his innocence. Maybe it was the fact that he wasn't innocent at all. Maybe he knew what he was doing. Maybe he'd found a way to get inside your head, and it was driving you crazy.
You couldn't stop replaying the way he was looking at you earlier with his tempting blue eyes and the way he spoke to you, his inflection coated in a layer of seduction.
Was that how he meant for it to come across? Or were you perverting the situation? When he told you he was a virgin, was he hoping you'd offer to show him how good it feels to fuck? Did he know you wanted to?
Before you could continue to spiral and overthink the interaction, you remembered - the notes! You pulled out an old crate in your closet that had all your assignments in it from every college course you'd taken to date. You knew it'd come in handy one day.
You found your notebook from Chemistry 101 and flipped to the section on ionic bonds and stabilizing chemical compounds, and you took pictures of the pages on your phone. You found Chris' contact and started sending off the pictures when a diabolical idea crossed your mind..
While flipping through your camera roll and selecting pictures to add to the message, your thumb hovered over the last nude you'd taken. It was a subtle but risky way to find out where Chris' head was at, to see if he wanted you as bad as you wanted him. You quickly selected the risqué photo of you and sent it off.
When Chris checked his texts, his jaw dropped when he came across the last one. It was you, sprawled out on your bed, laying on your back. Topless. It was actually an extremely tasteful photo, the kind you'd see in a dirty magazine or a boudoir shoot. He admired the curves of your body, your beautiful breasts, and your seductive expression as you looked into the camera.
Another text from you came in almost immediately. "OMG!! Please ignore that last picture! I didn't mean to send that.."
But Chris knew better. He was familiar with this game. He had triggered your pity, and now your desperation for him. He bit his lip, knowing he'd worked his magic on you, and you were now caught up in his spell. He decided to throw you a bone and flirt back, knowing that's what you secretly wanted.
"I could study that for hours.." he texted back, but followed it up with, "the notes I mean. ;)"
You blushed when you read his response. "Please delete that. I'm so embarrassed!" You replied, trying not to be too obvious about the chokehold Chris had on you.
"Of course. I'd never keep a photo of you like that without your permission.." Chris typed out as he devilishly grinned and saved it to his camera roll. He couldn't let such a beautiful photo go to waste. It was against his moral code.
He slipped his hand into his waistband and took his time rubbing another one out while he savored the picture of you, hoping to burn it into his memory so he could access it whenever he wanted.
The next day, after you attended all your classes, you wandered over to Chris' room again. You hesitated for a moment before knocking on his door. It swung open and the gorgeous boy you couldn't stop thinking about stood in the entrance, and when he saw you, his pupils dilated and he very subtly glanced you up and down, his gaze lingering on your chest for a moment, remembering the photo of you.
Chris noted how snugly your plain white top fit you and how short your denim skirt was, the hem barely hitting your mid thigh. "Hi," he shot you an innocent smile. "Hey, Chris," you responded, nervously biting your lip. You wanted to address the elephant in the room - the nude you'd 'accidentally' sent Chris the night before, but you weren't going to be the one to mention it first.
"Almost didn't recognize you with your clothes on," Chris teased you. That didn't take long.
"I'm so sorry, Chris. I didn't mean for you to see me like that," you blushed, avoiding eye contact with him. "Sure you didn't," Chris whispered, maliciously smiling at you and giving you a look like he wasn't buying it.
"Anyway, let's get into the elements again. I think we need to go over some basics before we start getting into covalent bonds," you said, changing the subject and pushing past Chris to get into his room. He checked out your ass as you walked past him.
"Who do you have for Chemistry again?" You asked out of curiosity. "Mr. Reid," Chris stated. "Oh, I had him," you responded, plopping down onto his bed. "Yeah, did you like him?" He wondered, retrieving his textbook from his desk.
"He was a good enough teacher. But he would always invite me over for dinner and a bottle of wine when I was only 19. He was kind of a pervert," you told him. "A pervert? Damn, don't you hate those," Chris devilishly grinned, basking in the irony. "So, that's how you aced his class," Chris insinuated. "Oh my god, Chris! No. I never went over there!" You laughed.
The two of you sat side-by-side on his bed, and you flipped to the periodic table diagram, and you and Chris started going over the way they were organized on the page. "Show me which ones are the alkaline metals," you told him, glancing up at his plump lips. He gazed up at you and then back at the page, pointing to a group of elements. "Good! That's right," you praised him.
"Thanks, mommy. I mean, teacher. I mean.." Chris nervously giggled, looking back up at you. It wasn't actually a slip-up. He just wanted to see how you reacted to being called mommy.
Your breath hitched in your throat as you raised your eyebrows, and your lips fell open slightly. The way Chris referred to you made your pussy throb. You tried to hide how much you liked it, but Chris could see through you. "You're such a good teacher. I wish you could teach me everything," Chris whispered, his eyes dancing across your expression while he licked his lips.
"Shit," you muttered under your breath as you dropped your pencil, completely caught off guard by how Chris was speaking to you. You were about to bend down to pick it up when Chris stopped you.
"I got it," he smiled as he fell to his knees in front of you. He was at eye level with your crotch, and he couldn't help but gaze up at your red underwear that peeked out from under your tiny jean skirt.
His eyes lingered for a suspicious amount of time before he retrieved your pencil. "Here," his lustful blue eyes met yours while he handed you your pencil, still kneeling on the floor in front of you.
Seeing Chris in such a submissive position had your imagination running wild. You fantasized about grabbing ahold of his luscious hair, tugging on it until he was whimpering, and stuffing his head between your legs. "Good boy. Make mommy cum," you imagined yourself saying to him while he hungrily lapped you up.
He slowly stood up and sat next to you again while you brushed off your disgusting desires. Chris could tell how hot and bothered he had you, and he wanted to see how much further he could take it.
"You know, something I find fascinating about chemicals is the way they react to one another. It's like they can't help it. Some of them reject one another. Some of them explode when they get near each other. Some get along really well. Some can't stay away from each other. Like people," Chris stated, lowering his voice and moving closer and closer to you while he maintained eye contact.
You thought for just a moment that you might kiss.. But Chris wasn't done teasing you. His eyes wandered your face, landing on your lips again, but he pulled his gaze away quickly and brought his stare back to the textbook.
The two of you were playing a game, trying to see who would cave first. You both wanted each other badly, but you were both stubborn and loved the anticipation and fervor that existed between two people right before they kissed or fucked for the first time.
It was like a limbo, a liminal space, a transit between point A and point B. You both liked it, suspended in time in a place that only the two of you could experience. It was where the imagination would run the wildest, shuffling through the possibilities of what could come next.
"I never thought about it like that," you swallowed hard. "What elements would we be? And like what chemical compound would we make?" Chris smirked at you. "I-I don't know," you stammered, not understanding where he was going with it. "Well, what elements can't stop thinking about how badly they really wanna fuck each other?" He softly asked, staring into your eyes.
It wasn't even a clever pick-up line, but the way his voice came through so sensually had your skin crawling with lust. Chris didn't need a clever way to flirt with you. He could have said, "Did you fall from heaven because suck my cock," and it would've worked on you. But you couldn't let him know. You wanted him to directly ask for it, to crave it, to need it, to get down on his knees and beg for it.
"Chris.." you started to say, pulling your eyes away from his. "I'm just saying out loud what we're both thinking," he smiled at you. "Let's get back to the textbook," you said, turning down his advance.
"You telling me you haven't thought about it? You telling me that picture you sent last night was an accident?" He teased you. "It was," you declared, clearing your throat.
"Sure it was. I might believe that if this were the first time this kind of thing happened to me," he rasped, getting closer to you again. "What do you mean?" You looked at him inquisitively.
"I know how women like you are. I tell you I'm a virgin, and you go absolutely feral. My innocence turns you on, doesn't it? You wanna be the one to show me about sex, hmm? You wanna be the first one to make me cum?" He cooed, narrowing his stare and practically reading your mind. You looked at him wide-eyed and speechless. You weren't sure whether to deny his claims or to fall to your knees and beg him to let you suck him off.
"No one's made you cum before? Ever?" You inquired as if that were the only thing you heard out of everything he'd just said. "Nope. No one's ever touched it or put it in their mouth.." His voice trailed off, and he bit his lip, giving you a sweet, innocent look. It was getting impossibly hard to maintain your composure.
"You mind if we take a break from studying? I can't learn anything with my dick this hard," he smirked, starting to unbutton his jeans. "What are you doing, Chris?" You asked, your eyes dropping to his cock as he took it out. "I just need to take care of it really quick. You don't have to stay if you don't want to watch," he peered up at you innocently as he started slowly teasing himself, but you stayed put.
You admired the way it beautifully stood straight up, the one rather intimidating-looking vein that traveled from the base of his shaft all the way to his tip, and the way the head was shiny with a layer of precum. It looked so pretty.
You watched Chris' ritual, the way he softly trailed his fingertips up his length. He began to stimulate the most sensitive spot, running his thumb over the pink, dome-shaped end. He let out a soft whimper and shivered in pleasure while he maintained eye contact with you.
You couldn't take look away. Your clit practically had its own heartbeat at this point. He knew how badly you wanted to put it in your mouth. It was written all over your face.
"Fuck, you're tough to crack," he whispered while he stroked his gorgeous cock. He couldn't take it anymore. He needed to know what it felt like. If you weren't going to make a move, he was.
"Please, mommy. Please put your mouth on it," he softly begged, his eyes and his voice drenched in desire.
Finally. You had him right where you wanted him.
"Good boy. All you had to do was ask nicely," you responded, pushing him back on the bed and crawling between his legs. He looked down at you wide-eyed, full of excitement and anticipation. He released his grip on his member, and you replaced it with your own. You felt his dick twitch against your palm.
"Tell me what you want, baby," you responded, taking your thumb and gently caressing the tip like you'd watched him do earlier. You could tell how much he loved it by the way he gasped and smiled at you while you did this.
"Please suck on it, mommy," he pleaded with you. You hovered just above his cock, nearly drooling at the idea of sucking on it, and you stuck out your tongue, just barely licking the slit where all his precum had pooled up. His eyes widened and he moaned, throwing his head back. So responsive.
The next time you went to kiss it, you wrapped your lips around his sensitive nerves and started gently suckling. "Wow," he whispered. It felt better than he could have ever imagined. His hands found their way to your head, and he started combing through your hair with his fingers while you stimulated him in the most incredible way.
You wrapped your lips around him again, taking the tip all the way into your mouth, and then you slid it down even further. While you bobbed up and down on his length, your tongue grazed that big, juicy vein on the backside of his cock, and he started whimpering even more as you let the tip of his cock tickle the back of your throat.
"Mommy, it feels so much better than when I touch myself," he smirked, biting his lip and furrowing his brow. He took in the sight of you, seductively looking up at him while your full, pink lips swallowed him. You slid back up and started paying attention to the head again while you stroked him. "Good boy," you winked at him. He moaned and shuddered back in response.
You absolutely adored the way Chris' nervous system reacted to every little touch, every caress, and every lick. You could get off just to the way he sounded, looked, and writhed beneath the feeling of your mouth.
He looked at you with a softer expression, one that told you he was nearing the tipping point. You decided to kick it up a notch, pumping back and forth faster while your mouth moved messily, drooling all over Chris' cock, a stark difference from the slow, controlled demeanor Chris had when playing with himself. But he fucking loved it. He was discovering just how much he loved receiving sloppy head.
"I'm getting close," he said urgently, half-expecting you to remove your mouth from his special place, but you only did long enough to mutter, "Good boy. Finish on my tongue." His eyes widened at the realization that you wanted to swallow his seed.
The feeling of your wet, velvet-like tongue dancing and swirling all over his tip had him in shambles. His body began to tremble, and he gripped the sheets beneath him until his knuckles started losing color, his hips bucking up, asking for permission to burrow deeper into your mouth.
"Mommy, you're gonna make me cum," he whined as his cock started twitching in your mouth. The knot in the pit of his stomach snapped while his toe-curling, earth-shattering, mind-blowing orgasm swallowed him whole before spitting him back out.
He could feel every sensation, from the way spurts of his thick, sticky load shot onto your tongue while you swallowed to the way the speed of his blood increased while it rushed through his veins.
Once his soul returned back to body, he was staring at you in a shocked and fully satisfied kind of way, his chest rising and falling as he tried to catch his breath. "That was the best orgasm I've ever had, and I usually edge myself for like, a long time," he whispered, giggling.
"You did so good for me," you praised him, wiping your saliva mixed with his cum from the corner of your lip and imagining how hot Chris looked edging himself all alone in his bed.
"I love blow jobs," he smirked.
part two posted here 💖
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"Defying the Default"- Skin Tones and the Presence of Black Characters
Okay, this one is going to be half lesson and half a thought experiment- it may get a bit frustrating, as conversations like this often do- but remember, discomfort is not always a bad thing! So I ask that you walk with me for this one.
It’s also interesting, because I’m going to direct this towards everyone (readers included!), but specifically towards my fanfic writers of media with no visual medium, as I’ve noticed this pattern there, and it makes up a good amount of creators on this site. Okay? Okay.
Behold! Many shades of brown!
I had to wade through a lot of colorism for this, and even this link is subtly racist in its introduction- the idea that brown is ‘unexciting’ 🙄.
Anyway, you know where I’m going with this:
"Chocolate and Coffee"
Even the link above pulled this! Writers who use this... they’re not ‘wrong’ per se but… often uninspired. It feels... Lazy. When you can tell an author has put no thought into the brown of choice, it makes Black readers feel like you believe these are the only shades of brown- that that’s all we look like. Even chocolate is more diverse (white, milk, dark, marbled, cookies and cream?) Coffee can come in numerous shades as well (light, medium, dark roast? Type of bean?)
My first direction to help with this: make it a point to know what shade that character is (whether canonically, or if you're the original creator, look at a reference and write it down) and find a name! Be consistent! Find similar browns to one another. If the canon Black character's skin color is done poorly, find something similar and use that! (I'll get more into this in the next lesson!)
Our skin colors may modify as we age, it changes over the seasons/presence in the sun, and some people even have vitiligo! But we're not gonna be “dark roast coffee” one morning and “light milk chocolate” suddenly. We're not chameleons lmao.
And you know what? That shade you choose might very well be 'coffee'! But it's not going to be because you didn't look and assumed we're all some random brown! That’s the intent showing! If we can find endless ways to describe the beauty of white/pale skin, we absolutely can for brown! Be willing to unpack why you may not believe brown to be capable of beauty, and work through unlearning that- it will show in your writing! One way is by pausing with yourself, and recognizing when you had a biased thought. Even by this, you’re learning!
Here’s where I want us to get into the thought experiment:
I want you to think about the description of characters in stories (as a whole). Challenge yourself- in the fics and stories you read, how often is anyone blatantly labeled 'White'? Read a story or fic; how long can you imagine them as not-White before it's ever clarified? Because not even 'pale' automatically implies a White person!
You know how I’ve mentioned before that 'Black people are not a monolith'? I can find you at least some examples of Black people fitting some of the common descriptions of white characters.
"Brunette with brown eyes"
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(Fun fact: I actually learned back in my Masters program that genetically no one has ‘black’ hair- our eyes are processing it as black, but it’s really just dark brown due to eumelanin. Regardless, if you stand us in the direct sunlight, you will see that our hair is usually just dark brown!)
"Red hair with pale skin"
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“‘tanned’ skin with hazel/green eyes”
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“blond hair" (period!)
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Now, I’m not saying that blond haired Black people or Black folk with albinism are overly representative of my people. What I AM saying is that it needs to not be taken for granted that a reader is automatically assuming a character is White in your piece of fiction- I can assume your character looks like anything if it's not stated! Especially if the OG source is a book or a podcast! We’re just used to assigning these features- and characters- as white until ‘proven not’! The default!
I am guilty of this too! Even still, I reread many of my works and go ‘ah, I didn’t clarify.’ And I have to work on doing better at it. This is having intent for your Black characters, but really, it’s having intent for all of them!
(This doesn't mean going “the Black man said,” the way sometimes people say “the Chinese said” (which…. Tbh we should all stop doing that anyway, it's weird and racist))
My Next Challenge:
Some people may disagree, but- Ahem:
Say BLACK!
Breathe lmao! Take the time to recognize that it's OKAY to introduce a character as Black, to say Black, it's fine! Obviously be sensitive about it, don't shove it in there to “win your diversity points”, but like… People are Black. It's not a bad word. What matters is the context in which you used it!
You don't even have to say it every single time. Really just the first, introductory sentence will do. For example:
“[Character A], a bright, young, Black girl with knotless braids to her mid back, glittering hair clips matching her bright green t-shirt, and a brilliant smile that shined against her bistre skin.”
I recognize that some might argue that by saying “bistre”, you don't need to say Black. But 1) you don't have to be Black to be brown or dark skinned, and 2) There's a social stigma behind even saying Black- of discussing race in general, because it leads to discomfort. Race (as a sociological construct) exists. When we say nothing about it, allowing Whiteness to be the default, we're still emphasizing race, however silently! If you're already doing it... Why not mention it? 🤷🏾‍♀️🤷🏾‍♀️🤷🏾‍♀️
(here's a good clip of Ijeoma Oluo discussing the difficulty of discussing race; while I highly recommend the whole thing, the relevant clip is 4:25-5:39)
Maybe they're in the Black student organization in a lead position, maybe they're in a Black main cast of a play- it's okay to have those things in the story to help develop the idea that your Black character is actively Black! Just do your research to make sure you’re not leaning into stereotypes!
“There’s no races in my fantasy/future world!”
That’s fair! But I want to give you an example of how people will still project these identities onto your characters anyway:
No one has an explicitly stated 'race' in Avatar: The Last Airbender (afaik); they’re all divided by element culture. YET, many people were offended that a mixed-Korean actress was cast in her role in the live action- they ‘just didn’t see it’, because subconsciously they'd imagined her ‘face claims’ as WHITE, despite it never once being mentioned in the canon! (there’s also a firm sexualization and east Asian fetishization argument to be made about it, but that’s not within the scope of this particular conversation.)
Point is, if you are including humanoid characters in your fantasy stories, fine. You don't need to say ‘Black’ outright. But, that just means that you’re going to have to be even more detailed in your description. Because if I were watching a TV show and a Black actor shows up as an elf… I know what features I’m seeing! Entire protests have occurred over the casting of Black actors in a role ‘meant for a white person’; so... everyone sees it!
Conclusion
This is another reason why intention in character design and writing is important! Context clues and socialization help me understand who your character is. If it works like this for white characters, it can work like that for everyone else! You just have to know enough about me to write it in (and that's where the social and societal bias lie, because how much do you really know about me?)
A way to better understand this is reading books by Black authors (for fantasy, I would highly recommend Raybearer by Jordan Ifueko and Children of Blood and Bone by Tomi Adeyemi) as well as Black literary classics! Finding and reading Black fic authors in fandoms with Black characters! By learning how we describe ourselves and our skin colors, you’ll learn and practice how to appropriately describe us!
Now I can't make you do any of this! But I do want you all- writers especially- to start noticing our bias, how we may default to the experience of whiteness- and how that affects the way we write. When we have Black characters, and really any character of color, we need to start paying attention to how often their features, culture, and activities are emphasized, even for what we may consider to be 'background' details. That’s how we normalize creation and understanding, and become better at writing!
It’s just something to practice; remember, it’s the thought that counts, but the action that delivers!
In addition, if you are interested in a simple read into why approaching race is so uncomfortable as a whole, I've attached Robin DiAngelo's book here! Thank you to the PDF guru @toiletpotato for the link!
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twizzie-lairs · 7 months
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My Darling, My Honey
Alastor X Fem!Reader (Part 12)
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Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 |
Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12
Part 12:
It felt like hours went by, and it looked like your suspicion was correct- as indicated by the deepening red of the skies of Hell, compared to the pale pinkish hue it was when Alastor teleported the two of you up here.
The entire time, Alastor hardly said even a single word- a rare occurrence, knowing his occupation and personal love of hearing himself talk. If anyone ever knew that Alastor just purely listened attentively to you for hours, they'd probably think you're lying.
You told him about how your parents and in-laws treated you like a bargaining chip for their own businesses and social standing to prosper- then for everyone to turn their backs on you as soon as you were married off. You were treated like a circus animal in a cage.
Even after that, he didn't say a word. He just rubbed his thumb across your hands as reassurance before you continued.
When you told him about how your ex-husband used and abused you, but then paraded you around as the trophy wife like nothing was wrong, all Alastor did was tighten his grip on your hands.
As you explain in full detail the emotional and physical distress it all caused you and the impact that meeting Alastor had on your life, which then spurred the meticulously planned murder of your then-husband, you could swear you feel his hands trembling ever so slightly.
Many more tears had fallen from your eyes during this whole process, your throat sore from talking so much at one time.
Then, you looked up at Alastor.
He looked at you with nothing but love and the most gentle smile you had ever seen.
Without saying a word, he stood up and walked over to you, helping you stand up. Then he gave you a warm embrace. You gasped in response. It was very rare for either of you to initiate much physical touch, but it was even less common coming from Alastor.
Not letting this opportunity go by, you wrap your arms around him.
Alastor pulls back from the embrace slowly to gently caress your face and says, "And here I thought I couldn't possibly love you even more, my dear. You're just as perfect to me as the day I first laid eyes on you..."
A chuckle escapes your lips as you lean into his touch.
"My vows still hold true, you know. As I put that ring on your finger that night you left me too early, I said to you...' 'In life and in death, I am forever yours, as you are forever mine. I love you, dear.' with only the moon and stars as my witness."
A huge smile spreads across your face, "Oh Al, honey... Looks like you were right after all, in life and in death, I'm yours". You say as you pull him into a kiss, that he happily obliges to indulge you in.
"My dear, I think we will have to have a proper exchanging of vows soon- one that isn't interrupted by a certain someone- banging on the DOOR!"
You hardly even noticed the muffled yells and banging noises that were present at door that then disappeared with a yelp as Alastor whipped around to unlock and open the door.
"Why Vaggie, to what do I owe the pleasure of a visit from you all the way up here?" He answered the door with a low growl to his voice.
"Alastor! You just up and kidnapped our guest and haven't returned for HOURS! You can't just do that! Especially when you were threatening their life!"
"Ahahaha! Funny thing! Yes, yes I can!"
"Why you... ALAST-"
"Hey, hey! Vaggie, don't worry. I'm okay, we're okay." You quickly shoved yourself between the two of them as you felt the tensions rising.
" (y/n)! What did he do to you?? What's going on here???"
You sheepishly smile as you slink back to Alastor's side and link your arm through his, "Just uh.. reuniting?"
Vaggie took a step back and raised an eyebrow while asking, "Hold on now, what did you just say?"
Alastor clears his throat, "Ahem, why I do believe I owe you and Charlie an apology of sorts! Perhaps a 'thank you' as well for saving the love of my life, my soon-to-be fiancée from when we were still alive!"
"Excuse me- WHAT???"
-> Part 13
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kamiversee · 7 months
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➶-͙˚ ༘✶ 𝙏𝙃𝙀 𝙁*𝘾𝙆 𝙇𝙄𝙎𝙏
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✧.* CHAPTER 11 || The Thorn and The Petal
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[ { SYPNOSIS } ] ➤ A tale in which Gojo Satoru blackmails you into seducing a list of people to clear his debt. Sounds easy enough, right?
[ { CHAPTER CONTENT } ] ➤ language, angst, & fluff.
[ { WORD COUNT } ] ➤ 4k
[ { PAIRINGS } ] ➤ jjk men x f!reader. gojo x f!reader. geto x f!reader. toji x f!reader. choso x f!reader. sukuna x f!reader. nanami x f!reader.
[ [ chapters mlist } ]
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——"WELL, CONSIDERING THE FACT THAT he's my professor, I thought it'd be pretty obvious that he's one of the hardest on the list." Gojo's voice flew through your ear.
You had him on the phone as you lay on your stomach across your bed. Talking to him is something you want to limit as much as possible but you can't try anyone on the list completely blindsided so, sadly, you still need him.
"Then there's Nanami. As far as I know, he's not interested in sleeping with just anyone-- you'll most likely have to get to know him a bit." Gojo explains. You're taking little notes of this in a journal of yours since it's a lot of information to keep up with. "And uh, you said you met Choso already...?" The man over the phone asks.
"Mhm, ran into him in the hallway. He doesn't seem like he'll be hard to win over." You say casually.
Gojo pauses for a second. Then he sighs, "Yeah, the worst-case scenario with him is that he'll catch feelings for you."
A brow rose in suspicion, "What makes you think he'll catch feelings for me?"
"He's not like the other guys on the list. Aside from..." Gojo takes a second to think, "I guess, Nanami, I'm not sure Choso is used to or even understands the concept of a hookup."
"Meaning...?"
"Meaning, he'll grow attached."
"Okay well," You hesitate. "Let's just hope he doesn't."
"Right." Gojo chuckles a little, nearly sounding relieved.
You write some more stuff into the journal, trying to devise a plan for each man. "Okay and, can you just tell me the last two people on the list?"
"Oh. Well, there's Sukuna, who happens to be Choso's older... half-brother? I really don't know how their family works but, yeah." He answers, sounding a little confused on the matter himself.
You're quiet for a long moment, white noise heard through the phone. It takes you a few minutes to really process what that idiot just told you. First a professor and now you're learning that you have to fuck two people who are related...
"Gojo..." You let out a stressed sigh. "Y'know what, never mind."
"Nono, what is it?" He urges, interested in hearing how you feel about it.
He knows it's probably not the most easy thing to accept but, that doesn't make him care any less about how you feel.
Your eyebrows are tensed, "Half-brother?"
"Okay I know how it sounds but, I'm pretty sure they hate each other," Gojo tells you as if it's supposed to make things sound good.
"Oh my god," You reply, voice sarcastic, "That makes it so much better."
"Listen-"
"No Gojo, I really think I'm done listening. Who's the last person?" You divert.
The sound of him taking a deep breath can be heard, "Fuck, you're not gonna like this one either..."
"What is it?"
"It's Naoya... Who happens to be..." Gojo swallows hard, "Well, he's..."
"He's what?!" You huff, "Spit it the fuck out Gojo."
"I'm like fifty percent sure he's Mr. Fushiguro's cousin or something."
You scoff in pure disbelief. "Why am I not fucking surprised?"
"I'm sor-"
"Apologize to me one more time and I promise you, this will be our last conversation ever." You cut off.
You then drop the phone in your hand onto the bed, putting the man on speakerphone and moving your fingertips to massage your temples. A migraine is on the rise within your head and you don't know how much longer you can put up with this shit.
You swear the only good thing about this is the fact that you're getting paid.
Suddenly, as you think harder about the situation you're in, tears well up in your eyes. This shit sucks. It fucking sucks. You don't wanna do this. What if you get caught doing something with Toji? Or, what if one guy finds out about the other and then you experience a spiderweb effect of everyone figuring your little scheme out?
How can you get out of this situation? Why did it have to be you of all people? Why won't Gojo just find someone, anyone else to do this bullshit for you? Yeah, you need the money-- which is another thing for you to cry about because you can't get a proper job to save your life, but you still hate everything about this.
Before you even realize it, you're sniffling and wet spots are forming against the bed below you.
Gojo's still on the line, wondering if he's hearing things correctly. You hear him call out your name softly, almost as if he genuinely cares about you. The sound of his gentle tone alone makes your crying get a little worse.
"F-Fuck off," You choke out.
You then move a hand to hang up on him because you don't want him to hear you crying like this but he starts talking and you start listening before you press that bright red button.
"Wait, shit, listen. I know I'm an asshole, I know this whole thing is fucked up, I know I'm treating you terribly right now but..." Gojo trails off and you think you hear a thud on the other side of the phone. Did he just hit something? "Fuck, I know you don't want to hear this but I am sorry, honestly."
Your voice is a small whisper as you wipe your face off, "Screw you and your sorry."
"I... I-I'll triple it." Gojo suddenly offers.
You swallow and sniffle a bit, "Triple what?"
"The original price. I'm changing it to six thousand." He says.
You can tell he's serious about it too because as you stare at your phone in shock, you see another deposit made to your account to make up for the interactions you had with him and Geto.
"P-Per person??" You ask to clarify.
"Yes, it's... it's the least I can do, right?" Gojo sighs. Even though you want to ignore it, you can hear how disappointed in himself he sounds.
For another long moment, you're quiet. The least he can do? Bullshit. He's the one who put you in this damn situation in the first place.
"...No..." You end up mumbling out.
He scoffs lightly, "No?"
"The least you could do is delete the video and let me go." Your voice is as delicate as ever, gently hitting the man's ears in a way that makes his heart throb.
Gojo grits his teeth and although you can't see it, his head tips back against his bedframe as he stares up at his ceiling. His hands raise to his face and his words are a little muffled, filled with distraught, "...I can't do that, sweetheart. I can't." He breathes.
The man sounds almost pained at the thought of letting you go.
You scowl at the phone, eyes watering all over again, "S-Stop it with the damn nickname, I hate it-, I hate you."
Gojo has a broken little smile on his face and the voice you hear over the phone is full of hurt, "I know but-," He clears his throat a little and you hear him inhale deeply, "Fuck... you don't really mean that do you?" He whispers.
You don't know why you don't respond instantly like you were before. It's like the sound of his voice was getting to you. Why does he sound hurt too? This isn't affecting him the way it is you so, what the hell is his problem?
"...I don't know," You mumble, "I don't even fucking know anymore."
It goes quiet after that.
You couldn't hear much from your phone but the softest sounds of him moving. It was gentle movements though, not like he was doing anything inappropriate but almost like...
You don't want to think about it or even take a guess but it genuinely sounded like the man could've been crying over the phone.
As soon as you think about it, you scoff at yourself and shake your head. Gojo Satoru, crying because you said you hate him? Yeah right.
"I should uh," You sniffle a bit, "I should go-"
"I'll make it up to you." He suddenly sighs. "All of it. I swear, I'll make it all up to you, okay?"
Again, his words and the tone of his voice are yanking at your overworked heartstrings. "...Promise?" You whisper, having no idea why you're giving him this chance in the first place.
Gojo's smiling at his phone, hearing the change in your voice and feeling relieved that you're actually listening to him, "I promise."
With one last quiet okay slipping from your lips, the phone call ends there.
.  . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆ .  . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆
Within minutes after that ridiculously angsty phone call, you receive a text from someone that instantly has you blinking away your tears.
It's Choso.
It had been maybe a little over an hour and a half since you ran into him in the hallway but, here he was texting you already. It was a simple text that read; 'hey ik we just met and all but, can I call you?'. You had to blink a few times to register what you were reading.
After you mentally prepare for it, you go ahead and respond with a simple yeah in response. Seconds later, the male is calling-, no, FaceTiming you.
You think your heart sinks into your fucking toes. Your eyes are slightly reddened and puffy from the crying you just did and you do not want him to see you right now.
Regardless, you answered the call and have the camera directed toward the ceiling. Choso's stupidly handsome face pops up on your screen and you're smiling already.
"Hey uh, ok I know this is kinda awkward but my brother wouldn't answer and I wanted to show this to someone," He tells you, his voice like a calming balm to your ears.
"You could've just sent me a picture y'know..." You say, your tone noticeably light due to the tears you just shed.
Choso pauses for a second, staring at his phone. "Okay, scratch that for a second, are you okay?"
"Uhm, yeah? Why?"
"You sound like you were crying." He points out.
How the actual fuck can he tell?
You chuckle at him, "I wasn't."
"Then you sound upset. Did something happen?"
"Nothing I feel like talking about right now but, thanks for asking. What did you wanna show me?"
"I won't show you unless you tell me something." Choso says in full seriousness, "And plus, you're not even showing your face which further believes me to think you were crying."
Again, you laugh, "I uh, I just look a mess right now. And the only thing I'll tell you is... I dunno, I had an argument with my..." What the hell do you even refer to Gojo as at this point?
"Your boyfriend?" He suddenly fills in for you.
"No!" You huff, giggling at his assumption, "I don't even have a boyfriend."
You see him smiling a little, "Girlfriend, then?"
"No, Choso. I'm single."
"Ohhh." He hums, sounding genuinely surprised. "My bad, did you fight with a friend?"
"Uh, yeah, I guess you could call him that." You say, shrugging a little.
"Damn. It must've been a big argument."
"What makes you say that?"
His shoulders raised, "You don't even wanna call him your friend."
You scoff a little, "He's just... an asshole."
"One that made you cry?" Choso asks, arching a brow in suspicion.
"No," You roll your eyes, "I didn't cry, Choso."
"Show me your face then."
"I don't want to."
He scoffs, "That's how I know you were crying."
You hate the way the man is reading right through you. "I wasn't." You argue.
"Lying to me when the truth is obvious is crazy," Choso says dramatically.
"I'm not lying."
You see him shake his head in disappointment, "Damn, I might need to remember this as a red flag of yours; pathological liar." He tells you with his voice both serious and playful at the same time.
"You really don't believe me, huh?"
"Not until I see your face, no."
"Fine," You lift your phone slightly, only showing your face from the nose up.
Choso stares for a minute before suddenly smiling fully and holy shit is the sight sexy. The phone is quiet as he stares at you, almost dazed like how he was earlier. You feel a little awkward and have the urge to put the phone down but when he blurts something out, you end up freezing.
Choso tilts his head and his gaze is scrutinizing, "Your eyes are so fuckin' pretty, I'm gonna lose my mind." He compliments abruptly.
Your heart definitely stopped for a minute, maybe three. The way you drop your phone and sink your head into your blanket like a blushing and giggling teenager is comical at this point. The man's words made you smile so hard that your cheeks were starting to hurt.
"Don't... Don't say shit like that so suddenly," You say, chuckling through your words.
He shrugs and sits back into whatever chair he's in, "But it's true. Fuck, show me your full face this time."
"G-Gimme a second," You sigh.
"Why?"
Does he not realize how attractive he is right now? You can't even conversate normally.
"Cause' I... I need a minute." You mumble to him.
The corner of his lips is up in a smirk and damn the way he looks at the phone. "Did I just make you nervous?" He asks, his voice suddenly a little lower.
You scoff, "No."
"Liarrr," He taunts.
"I'm not lying."
He clicks his tongue, his eyes low on the phone. "Then show me your face, princess."
Jesus, the nickname caught you off-guard. You can't do this. Why is Choso so... so... hot? Sexy? Attractive? You don't even know what word to use for the man at this point.
"Fuck. Fine." You end up sighing.
Then, you slowly move to lift your phone and prop it up with a nearby pillow. Since you're laying on your stomach and you're wearing a loose tank top, your chest is pressed against the bed below and Choso has a full view of that and everything else from your neck up.
He blinks a few times and you pray that he doesn't say anything that'll fluster you again.
To your surprise, it seems as though you'd flustered the man without saying anything. Choso's head turns to the side as he looks away from his phone and you get a lovely view of his jawline. Damn, he's got quite the side profile.
You watch him inhale deeply and then peek over to his phone from the corner of his eye as if that'll change the sight on his device. You simply blink innocently at him as if you're unaware of the way you look right now.
"You alright over there?" You ask in an almost sultry tone.
Choso clears his throat and nods, turning to face his camera again, "Yeah, I'm fine."
"You sure?"
He stares intently before saying, "You're somethin' else, y'know that?"
A chuckle leaves you as you tilt your head, "Am I?"
"Yeah. But uh, now that I can see you..." His eyes dart past his phone and you watch as he looks back and forth between the device and whatever is in front of him.
Your eyebrow raises in curiosity as you watch him, "What is it?" You ask.
"Oh, it's what I wanted to show you." He says and you watch him stand up and look down at his phone one last time. "Okay, it's not perfect but I hope you like it."
For a second you're still confused but when Choso flips the camera around, sheer surprise takes over your expression and your jaw literally drops. It was by far one of the most beautiful things you'd ever laid your eyes on.
"Don't freak out, I hope this isn't weird," Choso says quickly as he backs up a little and gives you a full view.
The man had painted you.
It was unique too. Not just like a normal portrait but like how you appeared in his eyes which just so happened to be so very beautiful. His art in general includes darker colors and you can see other paintings behind his newest one, all fitting in with his theme.
"Y-You painted me?" You say dumbfoundedly, "I thought you majored in graphic design."
He laughs, "I do but that's just for school. I paint in my free time."
"Choso you just saw my face for the first time a few hours ago, how the hell did you..."
"I honestly can't explain that," He says with a shrug, "When I got home I uh, couldn't get your face out of my head, and well, if I didn't draw or paint you I think I was gonna go crazy."
You study the art a little more. It's you but at a side profile, your gaze is downwards and you think for a second before you realize it's a painting of you as you were looking at his other art on his phone earlier. Choso painted an image of you from his perspective and boy was it beautiful.
There was predominantly black paint and he has this smudgy yet clean art style you don't think you've ever seen before.
"Choso that's beautiful, oh my god," You gasp, eyes wide and a smile prominent on your face.
You're so distracted by the canvas you're being shown that you miss as the man screenshots the reaction you have.
"You want it?" He offers simply.
You don't even know what to say, "Uhm, I dunno, i-it's your art."
"Yeah, but it's you."
"Kinda narcissistic for me to have a portrait of myself, don't you think?"
"Kinda stalkerish for me to have a portrait of a girl I just met, don't you think?" He asks in return, mocking you.
You giggle, "You're the one who decided to paint me."
"True. Alright then lemme ask this," He turns the phone back around to himself and you watch him sit back down, "Can I keep it?"
You blink. "It's your art."
"It's your face." The man fires back.
"I-," You sigh, "Yeah Choso, you can keep it."
He smiles, "Thanks."
"No, thank you. I didn't think I could look that good." You sigh, feeling all bubbly and light inside.
Choso tilts his head as he looks at his phone, "Have you seen yourself?"
"Don't give me that." You roll your eyes playfully, "Have you seen your art? You could make a pile of shit look good."
"I can't make anything look good, I can only work with the beauty that's already there."
Your voice gets caught in your throat for a second. When you swallow down the compliment he's given you, you can't stop yourself from smiling. "Y'know they say beauty is in the eye of the beholder right?"
"I'm aware. And in this case, I'm the beholder and you're someone I find beautiful." He responds.
Damn the way he's quick with all these comebacks. "I think your gaze is filtered." You say with a shrug.
You see him raise a brow, "By what?"
"I dunno, delusion."
Choso laughs wholeheartedly at you. "My gaze is delusional because I think you're beautiful? Wow."
For a long moment, you'd forgotten about everything again. You forgot about your rules, the list, the situation you're in-- all of it. For once, it felt peaceful, blissful even.
"I'm joking," You tell him, watching as he sighs in relief. "But on a serious note, thank you for this."
"For what? The painting?" Choso asks.
"Yeah, that and uh, calling me. You have some interesting timing."
"Oh yeah, no problem. I'm glad I made you feel better."
The way you and him have these little conversations so seamlessly is something you never want to end. He's so sweet and refreshing to talk to that you wish you could forget about the list and just run away with the man.
"Who says I was feeling bad...?" You reply to him.
Choso rolls his eyes, clearly seeing through you, "I don't like liars y'know..."
You pout, "Whatever."
"And I'm being for real, I'm glad I made you feel better. I uh, hope you and your friend fix things."
You scoff, "You wouldn't be saying that if you knew what he did."
"No, I would." Choso protests. He doesn't know the details but he's being genuine, "If whatever you guys were arguing about was enough to make you cry then, clearly you care about him."
Your head shakes slowly, "You don't have enough context on the situation to come to that conclusion."
"You didn't deny it-"
"I don't care about him." You cut off. "Trust me when I say, I hate him."
Choso chuckles at you. He didn't take your words seriously one bit. "Ehh, sounds like an enemies-to-lovers situation..." He comments with an innocent little shrug.
"Oh hell no, this isn't that." You assure the man.
He gives you a skeptical look, "You sure?"
"I'm positive."
"Damn." Choso blinks, "He really fucked up didn't he?"
"You have no idea."
"I wanna ask more buuut I don't wanna be nosy soo, m'kay." Choso results in saying. "Even so, I still hope you and him get through whatever it is you're going through."
You sigh, "I don't but, thanks Choso."
"No problem, princess." He says sweetly.
Fuck, he keeps catching you off-guard with that. It makes your brain get to stuttering and your face gets hot, "Don't call me that..."
"Why? It's fitting."
"No, it's not." You argue.
"Alright," He glances away to think before saying, "How about angel?"
You sigh, "Stop."
"Pretty girl?" He continues.
"Choso." You call.
He doesn't listen, "Doll? Baby?"
"You're still going..."
He pauses for a minute to think before uttering, "Sweetheart?"
Fuck that made you think of Gojo. You think your body freezes for a second at the thought of the man alone.
"Love?" Choso adds on, having no idea of your little history with these damn pet names.
"You can stop now," You say sternly. "Seriously."
"Alright, alright, my bad. I'll stick to the first one." He hums, "Unless you seriously don't like it...?"
The way he holds nothing but consistent care for your feelings toward things is truly endearing, "Nah, the first one's fine."
Choso nods, "Alright then princess, I'll talk to you later."
You're smiling all over again, "Bye Choso."
The two of you give a little wave to each other before the phone call comes to an end.
Oh, you definitely feel like a teenager all over again. The way he painted you the same day he met you, the way he speaks so charmingly to you, the way he... fuck it's everything about him
Scew Gojo and his shitty little promise of making things up to you, based on the one phone call you had with Choso-- there's nothing that white-haired bastard can do to fix the paining fact that your real chances with Choso are slim to none because you'd never be able to tell him about the list.
And god forbid the man finds out about it.
Butterflies are still stirring in your stomach, the feeling being the after-effect of talking to Choso. You don't want to like him but it's already difficult. You actually shouldn't and really can't like him.
You've gotta distance yourself going forward. You have to.
The question now is, will you be able to?
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GOJO SATORU ✔︎
GETO SUGURU ✔︎
TOJI FUSHIGURO ☐
KAMO CHOSO ☐
NANAMI KENTO ☐
??? SUKUNA ☐
??? NAOYA ☐
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mlist || previous chapt || next chpt
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band--psycho · 27 days
Text
Sylus x Reader - No Going Back
Main Masterlist / Sylus Masterlist / Join My Taglist
My first Sylus story...Before anyone asks, yes there will be a part 2 to this!
Please be kind; reblogs are always welcome and greatly appreciated!
Thank you all for the continued support and I hope you all enjoy this! 💛
Requests are open so if you have any ideas/requests, you're more than welcome to send them over
I do not give permission for any of my works to be copied or translated onto this site or other platforms
Warnings: Mature themes, mentions of sex , swearing
Sleeping with Sylus was a mistake; at least that’s what you kept telling yourself whenever you felt your memories drifting to him and the night you had spent together not too long ago. 
Sleeping with him was one of the best mistakes you’d made in a long time, but it was a mistake nonetheless; one that you couldn’t risk making again. 
That’s why you’d been ignoring not only his calls, but also Luke and Kierans. 
You needed to put distance between you and the leader of Onychinus; in your mind this was a simple thing to do, you just needed to talk or see him. 
But in reality, this ended up being much harder than you could’ve ever imagined it being. 
You missed him. 
You wanted to talk to him. 
You wanted to be around him. 
You wanted the ‘mistake’ you kept thinking about so often, to happen again. 
You wanted him and being the one purposefully put the distance between the two of you hurt. 
A small sigh left your lips when you saw your phone light up with another incoming call from his number. 
You knew you should just block his number; it would certainly make trying to ignore him easier, but you could never bring yourself to do it. 
For a few seconds, your finger hovered over the flashing green answer button, your heart just longing to hear his voice again even if it was just to hear him say a few words. 
But then  your mind regained control over your emotions, you couldn’t talk to him 
It would just make everything harder.
So you declined the call and tossed your phone onto the couch, in an attempt to avoid any temptation. 
You were going to go out for a walk, in the hopes that it would potentially help you clear your head, but when you opened your door, you were met with the very person you’d been avoiding.
“We need to talk,” Sylus said simply, slipping past you and into your apartment. 
You stood there for a few moments, trying to process what was happening as well as trying to work out what you were going to do. 
You could run? 
But he’d catch you. 
You could stay.
But that came with its own risks.
“I suggest you shut the door, unless you want people to start asking questions,” he continued, snapping you out of your thoughts. 
Run. 
Stay. 
Run..
Stay…
Your heart won the battle. 
You closed the door, trying to persuade yourself that you were only doing this so that no one found out that he was here and not because you wanted to see him. 
You took a deep breath, before turning to look at Sylus, whose rube eyes were fixed on you. 
“You know it’s very rude to ignore phone calls from people,” he pointed out, using his evol to lift my phone from the couch and into his hands. 
Eventhough he hid it well, you could see the hurt in his eyes…that look, that fleeting look of sadness was enough to make you want to break every single rule you’d been giving yourself. 
“You can’t be here,” Y/n said, holding his gaze. 
What if he got caught? 
What if someone found out you two knew each other? 
It was too dangerous for both of you. 
“You’ve been avoiding me, what else was I meant to do?” he asked, raising an eyebrow inquisitively, taking a few steps closer towards you. 
You didn’t answer his question; you didn’t know how to. 
You didn’t know what to say to him. 
So you just remained silent. 
A sigh fell from his lips as he took a few more steps closer to you, all but destroying the distance you knew you needed to keep between each other. 
You went to take a step back, only for your back to collice the front door of your apartment. 
Almost instantly, Sylus took advantage of this opportunity; placing one hand by your waist and the other next to your hand, essentially trapping you between him and the door. 
“Conversations only work if both people are talking sweetie,”
Fuck that nickname. 
Fuck the way it fell from his lips. 
Fuck the way it made your heart skip a beat whenever he used it. 
Fuck him. 
Oh how you wanted to. 
Yo needed to keep your resolve, but that was slowly dwindling away with every moment that passed
“Why?” he asked, his quiet tone making you wonder if he’d really said anything at all, until he repeated himself, “Why have you been avoiding me?” 
There it was again; that flicker of hurt in his eyes that made you want to do nothing more than just reach out and kiss him. 
As you glanced up at him; the words that you’d been pushing to the back of your mind, were somehow suddenly on the tip of your tongue 
You tried so many times to tell yourself that it wasn’t true, to try and push the feelings that you had for Sylus away. 
But it was all a lie. 
You’d fallen for the leader of Onychinus….
You saw Sylus’ eyes narrow in frustration at your continued silence, as another exasperated sigh came from his lips. 
“I’ve been avoiding you,” you started, the sound of your sudden uneasy voice, catching his attention instantly as he waited intently for you to continue.
“Because I’m falling-”
Your admission was cut short as Sylus moved the hand that had been by your head and put it  over your mouth, silencing you. 
He leaned in close, so close that you could feel his breath tickling your skin. 
“Careful, sweetie,” he warned, slowly removing his hand from your mouth before placing it on your jaw, allowing his thumb to run across your bottom lip. 
This is exactly the type of situation you were trying to avoid. 
But you couldn’t bring yourself to pull away from his touch, instead you felt yourself instinctively melting into it. 
“You can’t take those words back once you say them,” he breathed, glancing down at your lips before meeting your eyes again. 
You didn’t want to take those words back. 
You wanted to say them. 
But then a thought raced through your mind; what happened once you did? 
Your internal battle was cut short when Sylus leaned in closer to you. 
What you didn’t know was that Sylus wanted to say those words as much as you did. 
You were staring at him; with those gorgeous y/e/c eyes, not knowing that these last few days had felt like a living hell. 
He needed you, craved you…and not being able to even so much as talk to you, was enough to drive him to the brink of madness. 
And that’s why he was here; risking everything, just to be with you. 
“Touching you was a bad idea,” he smirked, his lips inches away from yours.
“The worst,” you whispered in agreement, feeling how quick your heart was beating inside your chest. 
You knew what you were doing, knew that if you didn’t stop what had already begun to happen, that there would be no going back. 
“We should stop,” you breathed, feeling the last of your resolve completely disappearing. 
“That would be the logical thing to do,” he answered back; his eyes glancing between your lips and eyes again, silently asking for permission to close what little distance was left between you. 
“Fuck it,” you sighed, throwing your arms around the back of his neck before standing on the tips of your roes and crashing your lips onto his.
Tagging some people who might enjoy this:
@xacatalepsyx @book-dragon03 @hiqhkey @fangirlsfandomsss @albert-moriarty-fan @elegantangelenthusiast @worm-in-a-bug @darkphoenix2332 @deathkat657 @xenasolos @tasha-1994 @randomruff @mrs-masen-cullen @okaydokey @the-slytherin-poet @taronyuhunter @reverbsworld @serenitymaria @babygirl-panda19 @themagicafox
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undyingoracle · 8 months
Note
hai omg can you do alastor reacting to the person he's courting giving him flowers instead of the other way around
Alastor reacting to you giving him flowers.
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warnings: gn!reader. romantic scenario. might be ooc. sorry about that.
A/N: I ABSOLUTELY LOVE THIS IDEA. At first, I wanted to write something like him just getting flattered by it? but I think he would be more upset and disappointed that he wasn't the one who was giving you flowers. after all, "he's a gentleman and should spoil his beloved with that kind of gifts every time he got the chance to." (that's what he thinks, at least). Hope you can enjoy it anon! ;; thanks for your request. ♡
English is not my first language, so I apologize for any mistakes. feel free to correct me as long as you're polite about it.
⠀⠀⠀⠀ 𝅭ㅤ𝅭ㅤ⎯⎯ㅤㅤִㅤㅤ୨ ♡ ୧ㅤㅤִ ⎯⎯ ㅤ𝅭ㅤ𝅭
February 14th. a date everyone knew the meaning of. a date where everyone did their best to show off to their loved ones, to spoil them or even fall into the deepest of the lustful desires.
however, for the radio demon it was a pretty irrelevant date. he didn't really saw the meaning of it, and therefore, he didn't get as excited as other people did, and it wasn't exactly because he didn't got gifts or attention during it, in fact he did get lots of gift, specially from people of the cannibal town (who seemed to like him quite a lot). however, all those gift were meaningless to him, and he even hate most of them, since they're usually some kind of sweets, and he isn't really a fan of them, so they ended up in the trash or someone else's hands. he just didn't cared about it, nor the people who gave it to him.
nevertheless, this time it was a little different. he had someone in mind he wanted to give a gift to, and since a few weeks ago that thought has been running around his mind. but being quite unused to being on the giving end on this dates, he was conflicted on what to get to his special someone. flowers? he already got them flowers before, a lot of times and a lot of different types and colors. chocolates? he couldn't even stand the sweet smell of them. other kind of desserts had the same effect. and just like that, he keep discarding ideas that wasn't good enough for him. he wanted to blow you mind, he couldn't just do the simplest things!
soon enough, he asked for advice to the best person: Rosie, who, after giving some other ideas that were also discarded, ended up suggesting that he invited you to have dinner together, but instead of going out to a fancy restaurant, both of you just stayed at the hotel and HE cooked the most mind blowing meal himself. that way not only was he able to show off his cooking skills, but he also was able to make sure that everything was perfect. to the decoration, to the lighting, to the ambience music, to the flavors. he was simply in control of everything. he agreed to this, he thought it was a perfect idea!
so the next day, he went to ask Charlie for help at having a space for you and him alone. she agreed excitedly, of course, and promised him that absolutely no one was going to interrupt their perfect date. so, with her help, he got the kitchen, dining room, and a balcony all for himself.
when the day itself arrived, he immediately started decorating the dining room and balcony, with just a little magic it was a quick process. the table had a pretty dark red tablecloth, in the middle of it were some light up candles. it was just what you expect to see at a table on a romantic dinner really, kind of the cliché stuff. the balcony, however, had some lights wrapped around the railing, you could find some flower petals from the table leading the way to the entrance of the balcony. he wanted it to be the most unforgivable night of your life! that way, even if you ever (tried to because hes not letting thay happen) leave him, you would remember him whenever this date came around.
he also cooked some fancy dishes, some simpler meals that he knew you liked, and Rosie got him some sweets (against his will) that she knew you would love. everything was made for you to love.
soon enough, the time for the date came around, and you showed up. as you were standing before him, he tilted his head, confused as to why you kept you arms behind your back.
— Darling, are you perhaps hiding something from me?
he asked as you giggled. then, you pulled a bouquet of flowers from behind you back and extended it to him, holding it with both hands as you said "happy valentine's day!" excitedly. he looked at you in shock. you got him flowers. and he didn't. you prepared such a beautiful bouquet for him, and he didn't? he felt disappointed in himself for not getting you something as basic as a bouquet of flowers. how could he not get something like that for you? how could he even think of not getting such a beautiful gift to you? he could have made it the best and biggest bouquet ever and he didn't! how could he-
— Hey, Al? Are you ok?
he came back to his senses when you spoke to him. he looked at your worried expression and just chuckled.
— You just took me by surprise, my dear! I wasn't expecting to get such a beautiful and heartfelt gift from you. I am truly flattered by such a cute gesture!
— You're sure? You seem a little... down.
— Well, I am a bit disappointed in myself. After all, such a beautiful person gave me such beautiful flowers, but I didn't get them flowers! How could a gentlemen forget to bring flowers to his date? For shame.
he replied in a joking tone, making you laugh. your laugh was absolutely worth everything to him, he adored it and he loved seeing you so happy.
— Don't worry silly! you already planned all this, didn't you? that's more than enough for me.
after you were done talking he extended his hand to you, taking the bouquet in his other hand as he lead your way to the table. he wanted that night to be something that you wouldn't forget, but he didn't planned for it to be a night that he also wouldn't forget because of a little surprise. not that he was complaining though.
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llamagoddessofficial · 5 months
Note
hello llama
i have been thinking and headcanoning about vampire bad sanses lately, so i was curious if you have any thoughts about or interest in vampires of the nightmare and crew variety? (人 •͈ᴗ•͈)
"do i have interest in vampires", he asks
ok, i will share my extensive vampire brainrot. but in return..... you have to write that vampire fic.... oooOOooO look into my eyes you know you want to write it ooOoOooo 😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫
I very much like the idea of Nightmare's castle being Castlevania-style. Lots of spooky architecture, lots of ancient magical passages that haven't been seen in centuries.
Horror can be summed up in one word. Bloodlust. There's a constant hunger inside him he can't ever seem to fill, driving him almost to the point of madness. He is more beast than man. When he smells or tastes blood, he loses control of himself, becoming little more than a starving wild animal - his capability for slaughter is limited only by his appetite. So unless Nightmare requires it, he generally abstains from blood. He doesn't like losing himself so entirely.
Something about you makes him forget his hunger. Is it your voice? Your scent? He has no idea, but oh, it feels good to feel whole. When you're around it's as if he'll never be hungry again... he follows you like a dog, grinning intensely every time you look at him. This is one hound that can't be shaken.
Despite his 'condition', he finds a lot of solace in cooking. Nothing will give him the same drug-like rush as blood but human food is nonetheless warm and filling and distracts him momentarily from the emptiness. He enjoys the process of making it, too, doing something with his hands. Let him cook for you, please? Watching you eat brings him vicarious joy.
Dust's backstory is one of legend. Something resembling a story can be spun from the loose whispers. A vampire invaded his peaceful isolated village hundreds of years ago, intending to turn the helpless populace into enslaved vampires. Dust, the first to be bitten, turned and slaughtered them all himself - and despite being a vampire for barely a week, the equivalent of a stumbling newborn, he killed the centuries-old invading vampire in single combat.
No one's quite sure why he's joined Nightmare. Perhaps Nightmare was keen to take this uniquely violent creature under his wing, and Dust just didn't really care where the wind took him. Or perhaps he has some other motive, hidden beneath that silent face. Who knows.
... Dust might be quiet, but it's obvious he's fixated on you. Which is a big deal. This is a creature who hasn't mustered a second thought for anything but blood for decades; but somehow, you've excited him. He's very clearly interested in you, silently watching your every move, listening intently to every word you say. Too bad he's not much for conversation.
Killer's backstory, on the other hand, is shrouded entirely in mystery. No one knows where he came from, who he is, or what he's done. He simply appeared one day - right within the coveted inner circle of Nightmare himself. He's the Night King's most trusted weapon, and the closest thing he has to a friend.
Killer seems very clear about what he wants. He thinks you're adorable, and he says you'd make such a pretty vampire. He talks (at length) about how much he wants to bite you, and how if it were up to him you'd already be one of them. A lot of his flirting involves calling you things like sweet treat and honeyblood. However... despite all the taunting, all the talk of seeing you as food, Killer is the one in the castle who treats you with the most respect. The others seem to see you as an object, a cute toy, something to squish and own. Killer talks to you like you're a real person. You can't help but like him for it.
Nightmare's inferiority complex has driven him to declare himself the king of the vampires. No one contests - Nightmare is royalty by blood, and vampires place a lot of emphasis on blood. But even if he wasn't, Nightmare frequently murders those who won't bend the knee. Plenty of powerful vampires have fallen embarrassingly fast at his hand.
... Nightmare's goal is to make you agree to be his spouse. A pretty little human partner would be excellent for his image. It would not only demonstrate his incredible self control as such an ancient vampire (not to mention his control over his warriors), but it would also show that his power is so great he doesn't need to strike a political marriage with another powerful vampire. It might also convince some of the pesky rebellious human groups to settle down.
His pride means that he won't force you. Not yet, at least. He likes to think he can seduce you. He's a royal vampire, after all, and you're just a simple human - isn't it only a matter of time?
... But it seems like, as time goes on... he's the one falling.
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the pepper thing | l.m.h
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pairing... bf!minho x gn!reader tags... domestic fluff, established relationship, minho loves kisses so so so much
it's a routine, it's a tradition, it's a lifestyle. it's the pepper thing.
wc... 1.4k words a/n... this is inspired by a little something that @astraystayyh and i rambled about 🫠 i hope you enjoy it because i have not stopped thinking about this since it came into my mind!!! also thank you so much for 400 followers! almost halfway to 1k i'm mindblown tbh!
⋆。゚☁︎。⋆。 ゚☾ ゚。⋆
Lee Minho is a morning person. He loves waking up early, making breakfast, playing with his sleepy cats, and watching movies. But most importantly, he loves kissing you awake.
Whenever the sunlight makes its way through the curtains and pries his eyelids open, Minho is more than happy to be greeted by your sleeping figure. It's the greatest way to start his day. He still remembers the first time you woke up next to each other—the day your little tradition began.
It was the morning after Minho had finally moved into your apartment. You had fallen asleep in your now shared bed, his arms embracing your body and pulling you to his chest. When he woke up, he had moved further away from you, not so much that you were no longer cuddling, but just enough so that he could see your face. The side of your face was buried into the pillow, squishing your lips into a slight pucker. Your hair was sticking out in multiple directions and your shirt was twisted. He thought it was the cutest sight in the world. Lord, he's whipped.
He watched your sleeping figure with so much love in his gaze, mapping out your entire face to store in his memory forever. As his eyes trailed over your every feature, they halted at your mouth, taking extra time to admire the curve of your cupid's bow.
Slowly, Minho found himself leaning in, pressing a kiss as light as air onto your soft lips. 'More,' he thought, 'I need more.' He moved his lips to the corner of your mouth, then to your cheek, then to your jaw, smothering your entire face in featherlight kisses.
"Baby, what are you doing?" you asked in a soft, sleepy voice. Minho had been pressing kisses to your collarbones at that point, but upon hearing your voice, he stopped and buried his face in your neck. Embarrassed, he mumbled, "Nothing..."
You giggled as he hid away and you teased him more. "Oh, you're just sooo in love with me aren't you?" Minho groaned. "You just have to kiss me 24/7, huh? You love me so much you can't keep your lips off me."
"Shut up, shut uppp," he whined into your neck, making you laugh even more.
"How about you make me?" You pulled him away from your neck, staring into his eyes as if challenging him to do something. He took you up on that challenge, crashing his lips into yours, shutting you up like you asked.
Ever since then, Minho has woken you up by peppering kisses all over you every morning with no fail. Sometimes, when you call him out on it, he'll just ignore you and continue kissing your body, too busy to do anything else.
It was a gloomy morning. In contrast to the bright, shining light that usually woke Minho up, the light pitter-patter of the raindrops on the window forced him out of his slumber. He opened his eyes to your back facing him. Your oversized shirt, which was originally his, was hanging off your shoulder, presenting him with a new opportunity. He pressed his lips to your bare shoulder, slowly trailing up to the back of your neck.
"Mmm, that tickles, baby," you whispered as he kissed the sensitive spot on your nape, but he wasn't paying attention to you, too preoccupied to process the words coming out of your mouth. Only after he was done pressing kisses to your backside did he greet you a good morning, but could you blame him? He just loves giving you kisses!
Every single day, Minho wakes up before you and peppers your face with several kisses like his life depends on it. At this point, it's become a necessity in your daily routine.
One morning, you miraculously woke up before your boyfriend. His hair was disheveled and his lips were parted ever so slightly. As he lay on his side, facing towards you, you couldn't help but notice his eyes. His long, pretty eyelashes were so perfectly scattered among his closed eyelids. You leaned in, your warm breath gently blowing against his lashes. You softly kissed under his eye, your lips tenderly brushing his face. Slowly, you peppered more kisses around his face, starting around his eyelids, then moving to his nose, then to the corner of his mouth. As you were about to connect your lips with his own, Minho opened his eyes, making contact with yours.
"Honey?" Your mouths were mere centimeters apart. "This is usually my job." You closed the gap and kissed him. Minho sighed sleepily into the kiss and you could feel a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips.
Pulling away, you returned his smile. "I thought I'd mix things up," you kissed him again. "Why, do you not like it?"
Minho laughed a bit as you continued kissing around his face. "No, I don't like it," he said as he wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you closer to him. "I love it, and I love you."
This became your little tradition. Every morning, whoever woke up first would pepper kisses all over the other, starting the day with giddy smiles fixed on your faces. Even if you had fought the night before, it was all forgotten the moment you felt Minho's lips on your forehead, or the moment he felt your lips on his cheek.
Today, however, Minho woke up to your side of the bed empty. He furrowed his brows, disappointed at the unusual absence of the featherlight kisses all over his face. He dragged himself out of your shared bedroom, plodded around the apartment to look for you, and let himself fall back on the couch when he couldn't find you.
After about a half-hour, the front door opened and you entered your home, holding grocery bags in both hands. You set them down on the kitchen counter, peeking into the living room to see Minho watching something on the TV.
"Hi baby, did you sleep well?" You shouted from the kitchen, putting away the groceries. No response.
"Babe? Are you okay?" Nothing.
You walked over to where your boyfriend was sitting. His eyes were glued to the TV, not even sparing you a glance.
"Lee Minho," you said in a half-joking, half-serious voice, "did I do something wrong?"
Finally, he looked at you, lips contracting to a pout. He mumbled something so softly, you couldn't understand what he said. You sat next to him, taking one of his hands in your own. "Could you repeat that, baby? I can't hear you."
Pouting even harder, he repeated louder for you. "You didn't do the pepper thing."
You shot him a confused look, making him roll his eyes playfully. "The pepper my face with kisses thing! I woke up and you were gone, and you didn't give me any kisses at all."
You laughed incredulously. "Seriously, that's all you're sulking about?"
Unimpressed, Minho pulled his hand away from yours and crossed his arms. "It's a very serious matter, actually. You broke our morning tradition! You betrayed me!"
"I'm sorry for leaving without honoring our tradition," you smiled as he continued to pout at you, "but I went out to buy some ingredients so I could make breakfast for you. And, I even bought more of the new pudding you really like."
Though his eyes lit up at the mention of his favorite snack, a pout was still plastered on his face. "Okay, then. But you still have to make it up to me."
"Yeah? And how do you propose I do that?"
Minho looked you dead in the eye. "Do the pepper thing."
Still giggling, you placed your hands on either side of Minho's face, squeezing his cheeks and forcing his lips from a pout to a pucker. You kissed his forehead, then under each of his eyelids, then on the tip of his nose. "Feel better now?"
Shaking his head, Minho replied, "Not quite yet." He leaned forward and pressed his lips to yours. He pulled you by your waist, bringing you to his lap. You combed your fingers through his hair, tugging it slightly to tilt his head and deepen the kiss. When he pulled away from you, Minho had a lovesick expression written all over his face. "Now I feel better than ever."
⋆。゚☁︎。⋆。 ゚☾ ゚。⋆
comments, reblogs, and feedback are appreciated! © like-a-diamondinthesky 2023
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letbludcook · 1 month
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warning. explicit sexual content,
tags. masturbation, mirror sex, cum swallowing, healing from SA (not explicitly mentioned), wholesome sex, your f/o being the most understanding person to ever exist in this cruel world
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whenever you are striken with nightmares of your past, way before you were blessed with his gentle love and presence, you wake up in cold sweat, with sheer repulsion over being touched.
fortunately, your man never took it personally. in fact he's the one to remind you that it's okay, it's valid, and his girl is so strong for being able to survive everything she's been through. sometimes it takes you months without having sex; most of the time you pity him as physical intimacy is his love language, but his encouragement makes you survive the hell of it. gradually, with time and love, you manage come back to your usual self.
"what a strong lady you are," he assures you all the time.
however, you're not the only one being strong here—you affirmed that much when you woke up in the middle of the night and noticed him breathing heavily.
his hands are clasped to yours, and you can hear him moan your name repeatedly. you thought he was sick at first, but quickly noticed the synchronized up and down movements marking the blanket. 
he is touching himself.
you're not even hugging each other—it seems like he scooted you away from him before starting the act—all he settles for while pleasuring himself is holding your hand.
that consideration, toppled with your yearning to be touched again, is more than enough to rekindle your arousal and initiative.
you immediately scoot on top of him; he squirms in surprise, but your quick command comes to him, "continue touching yourself, my love."
he takes a while to process the situation, with a shy ask he averts his gaze away, "are you sure?"
"please?" you whisper, then pepper his face with wet kisses. your lips then slide to his ear; you give it a smooth lick before begging yet again, "let me hear you, darling."
it doesn't help him hold back, not at all, because you know his ears are pretty sensitive. in fact you only take advantage of it when you really want him to do something.
"y-yes—hah—yes, my love," he babbles, the jerking of his hand starts to produce a slick noise; perhaps his pre-lubricated dick helped on that. you continue kissing him while on it; moans escape as you feel him sucking on your lower lip.
"you'd let me taste, wouldn't you?" you whisper after sucking on his ear.
"d-do you—ah—do you want to—"
"i wouldn't ask if i don't."
and so, as languid as ever, you slide your hands down below and join his hand in bobbing up and down his dick. he whimpers, and somehow, the sight of your composed, level-headed man whimpering helplessly underneath you exudes blissful shudders. oh, to be loved by him. to be foolishly and utterly loved by someone like him.
"just want—oh fuck—just want to make sure," indeed, because after your assurance, he grips a fistful of your hair and then guides you down to his slick erection. the gentleness of his hold says a lot about how your moment below him would go. it is, after all, the least that he could do to compensate for how hard he's about claim your mouth. he couldn't control himself anymore. and he knows you want him to lose control. he, who has always been the epitome of control, could not embody such pride when faced with matters concerning your desires. if you'd ask him to die he'd be willing to do so then and there.
his girth filled your mouth; your eyes widen, and tears build up on the tip of your eyes as soon as he arches his back. he doesn't last long, much to your pleasure, because after five hard thrusts he immediately spurts his cum deep down your throat. even after he let it all out, he did not let go of your head. he trapped your mouth in his confines, ensuring you wouldn't waste a single drop because that's what you want. he would feel a bit shy if not for your persistence and enthusiasm. anyone would think that pampering him like this, drinking all of him so lovingly without wasting any drop, and more would be because you're under him, serving him with all you have.
but, as a matter of fact, he is the one serving you. he likes everything you want to do, everything you want to explore. hell, once you ask him for a child, he'd spend the whole night cumming inside you until you couldn't anymore and he's all spent and dry—messed up to his very core because that's what you want.
he almost laughs at his thoughts, and doesn't let go of your mouth even after his dick has softened. in fact, he even bobs your head up and down his now limp cock, pumping every last of his fluid that might be left of him. you deserve it, after all. earn your hard work. swallow every drop. have him by your mouth as earnestly as he would offer his life for you.
the next time you did it, he ensured there'd be a mirror right in front of you two. he takes you from behind, awkwardly at first, because you're not used to seeing yourself all pleasured and worked up while he pistons his hips inside. but then, whenever you stray your eyes away, he would adjust your head back to facing the mirror again as if to say; 'no, no, don't turn away. look at me doing you. i am the one making you feel this way, see that?'
and then he asks question he's been repeating since earlier, “am I hurting you, darling?”
“n-no,”
“yeah? come on, then. look at that pretty face," he punctuates the sweet whisper with a thrust, “see how well you’re taking me?”
“i do! hah, love, i—i'm 'bout to—"
"mhm," he closes his eyes and pulls you closer so he could nuzzle his lips on your back, “you’re clenching harder on me now, baby. are you close?”
"i am!" you lift your body up to see both of your features well—from how your breast bounces with every thrust and how his hands grip your waist to support himself. you savored the feeling—intense and rattling to your very core. his fingers flick your nipple, then he instructs you to lick your fingers too and play with the other nib.
oh, you want to close your eyes. you feel like you don't need the mirror for assurance anymore. he's the only one who could do you like this, the only one who could love you like this. you could finally relush the pleasure in without your past haunting you. and so you do—five seconds, ten seconds, until you hear his pants escalate to moans, ‘til his thrusts go rapid and unrestrained, 'til he’s blabbering how all of this affects him the way you do.
you reach your peak with a moan so loud neighbors might've heard it, and he follows suit not long after, loudly as well, because he's so aroused to see both of you lovingly doing each other in front of the mirror, all spent and sweaty.
you plop down the bed, but his hold doesn't falter. you feel his weight against your back, then he whispers sweet nothings while kissing your ear. “’s okay, it’s okay. open your eyes now and see me.”
you'll never know how delightful he is when you didn't flutter it open again; he feels your breathing slow down instead, and not long after, you drift to sleep with a smile.
indeed, it’s okay for you to close your eyes now. it's okay for you to be touched, for he is the only one who could do you this way.
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WOLFGANG grimmer, KENZO tenma, TOJI fushiguro, NANAMI kento, KAGAYA ubuyashiki, REINER braun, LEVI ackerman
soooo this is an excerpt from my fave smut work way back :3 originally an erwin smith fanfic but when i reread it i realized i could also see the vision for my other fave characters:P
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vicocaaisha · 6 months
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The Arrangement
Baek Harin x Reader Fic.
Sypnosis: Because of your father's social status, you were forced to marry the one and only Baek Harin. What happens if Harin caught you meeting up in secret with her archenemy?
Warnings: SMUT, mature scenes, stalking, choking. If you're a minor, stay away!
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Your father laughed at Harin’s offer while you scoffed at her antics. What a ridiculous offer you thought to yourself.
“I’ll give you my blessing to marry my only daughter, heiress of all my running business” You stared at your father with a look of disbelief on your eyes.
“What?!” was all the word that you could say that time as you process this crazy mess you’re ending up with.
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Baek Harin, the princess of your class. You didn’t like her because of the game she created during your first year. Although you are in grade A, you still didn’t like the fact that your other classmates were being bullied because of their status in the class. But what can you do? You didn’t have the guts to protest that her game is crazy. Especially since your father is good friends and in partnership with her family.
“I was looking for you, why aren’t you eating?” Doah snapped you out of your thoughts. Doah is your bestfriend out of the fake friend group you have with Harin and Dayeon. You’re only in a friend group with them because of your dad being close friends with their parents also. You didn’t want to disappoint your dad; who’s always out of town or in abroad attending some business meeting.
“I’m just finishing reading this.” You answered in a quiet manner even though she knows that you’re just avoiding the bullying commotion during lunch.
“You know, you won’t ever beat me in a quiz bee so stop studying and eat with me.” Doah tried to joke, which made you laugh because her being a nonchalant and posed person sucked at delivering jokes.
“Nice hearing you making a joke, Doah. But I don’t have an appetite to eat.” You replied.
“I brought you an onigiri; I made it. Please eat it, you haven’t eaten today.” Doah gave you the onigiri and a chocolate drink before leaving the library room.
You were seated in silence as you opened the wrapped onigiri. You looked at your watch. 40 more minutes. You really hate that your classmates are getting bullied, and you just watch or sit in silence while they are suffering. You hated being a bystander.
“Y/N.” a voice came out of nowhere that shocked you. As you look towards the door, you see Harin standing wearing her designer cardigan or whatever, but she looks pretty– no– wait. Why are you thinking this way, even though she looks good her attitude is something else.
“What?” Honestly, you had a crush on her when you first met her through your dad attending some party of his friends. She was there, she was the one who offered you to transfer school so that you two can get closer but things have changed. You despise her for this hierarchy game.
“Come to my penthouse tonight. I’m hosting a dinner party tonight since Mr. Seo wanted us to gather..” Harin said in her usual monotone voice.
“Yeah, yeah, whatever.” You rolled your eyes and just continued reading.
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It was a mistake coming here.
Your father is such a social climber. You didn’t even want to partake in any of their conversation because as usual, Baek Harin is the star of night. They are always asking her how’s our friendship or whatever.
“If only I had a son, I would definitely ask him to marry you, but sadly all of us only have daughters.” Your father said with a disappointment evident in his voice. You’re aware that your father didn’t like you at all, that's why he’s always leaving you on your own. It’s because of you being open about not wanting to inherit all of the business he has all over the world.
“Y/N is pretty and kind. I like her and I think there’s nothing wrong with me marrying a girl, right dad?” Harin said, looking directly at her dad as if she’s staring right through his soul, which her dad only nodded to and you noticed his discomfort.
“Y/N and I are already close. Plus, this will benefit our company if I marry Y/N.” Harin said with a glint of mischief in her voice. You just scoffed, disliking the topic. You can’t do much anyway, you’re the only child of your father.
Your father laughed at Harin’s offer while you scoffed at her antics. What a ridiculous offer you thought to yourself.
“I’ll give you my blessing to marry my only daughter, heiress of all my running business” You stared at your father with a look of disbelief on your eyes.
“What?!” was all the word that you could say that time as you process this crazy mess you’re ending up with.
“That’s a good arrangement then. We’ll further discuss this when both of you finish high school.” Your father said happily and while you can’t even comprehend what’s happening. You can’t oppose your father's wishes because he might disown you; Harin knows that, and she’s pushing you to your limits.
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It has been a week since that dinner happened. You haven’t talked to your father since, and you’ve been avoiding all three of your so-called friends. During that week, there was a transfer student in your class who also has been bothering you to help her since she’s in grade F. She must have sensed your guilt about all this crappy game.
Lately, you have been meeting her too. Outside of the school and during night time. You learned from Suji that she wants to take down the game and you liked that, but the thought of Harin learning that you’re backstabbing her, especially now that you’re “engaged” with her might cost you your father’s trust and his business.
Little did you know all of those secret meetings, someone has been eyeing you.
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You had just finished talking to Suji about her plan on taking down the game. You were now walking towards your house, listening to music. You're living on your own because your father was out of town again. Since you’re hidden from the media that you are a famous business man’s daughter, your house doesn’t have a security guard at all.
“Y/N” someone called you from afar as you were unlocking the door of your house.
Your heart dropped when you saw Harin walking towards you. What is she doing here? Does she know what you have been doing behind her back? Is she stalking you? So many questions flooded your mind and all you could do was stare at her.
“What have you been doing these past few nights, my fiancee?” She asked, still walking towards you and taking a puff from her cigar.
You tried to gain your composure and crossed your arms, “Are you stalking me?” you asked bravely.
“Do you think I’m playing some dumb games with you, Y/N?” she laughed maniacally and she is now in front of you.
“Whatever you're saying, Harin. Go home and leave me alone.” You said before trying to get into your house but suddenly you got yanked out by Harin.
“Have you been cheating on me? With that school trash?” Her gripped on you tighten. Here’s the problem, Harin never treated you this way. Even if she’s getting Dayeon get beat up on purpose by her dad or Doah getting eliminated from her competitions because they are getting on her nerves. Harin has always tolerated your angsty behaviour towards her, but tonight she’s different.
She got you pinned against the wall, “Harin– No! It’s not what it looks like.” you said as you struggled against her hold.
You felt Harin blow a breath on your neck, which tickled you but aroused you the most.
“Y/N, do you think I’m some dumb mouse you can use for your father’s gain?” She whispered through your ears.
“H-harin, I’m sorry. Please let me go, I swear I’m g-going to stop meeting with Suji.” You said as you were trembling.
“Will your father be happy once he learned what you were doing behind my back, my dear fiancee?” God, you are now regretting everything you’ve done. You should have stayed quiet, maybe, just maybe, your father’s hard work isn’t on the line.
“No– I swear, Harin! I’ll do everything, please!” You pleaded.
“Everything?” Harin was now eyeing you up and down, but you didn’t notice as your eyes were shut because of fear.
“Yes! Please, H-harin, forgive me.” That was all it took for Harin to kiss you. You can’t process what’s happening and all you could do was to moan, a loud one, when she kneed your core.
All of the pleasure you were feeling from riding her thigh were soon to be gone when she let go of you. You were out of breath, head feeling dizzy from what’s happening. You hated her guts and yet you’re here yearning for her touch? What has gone into your mind, you wondered.
“Your room. Now.” A demanding tone was all you heard that made you run into your room.
Anticipation and the ache at your core were all you felt while she was undressing you on your bed. You can’t contain your whimpers anymore every time she kissed a part of your skin, you were very sensitive.
“H-harin, I haven’t done this before…” You confessed with a sheepish smile as if she could see you in your room having the moonlight as your source of light.
“Even better.” was all she said before diving right to your buzzing core. Soft whimpers were coming right out of you, you’re trying to suppress your moans because of not being sure whether your maids are sleeping in or not.
She was marking you all over your neck, she might have felt the sense of owning you when you’re all marked up. She was thinking when you’re coming to class and Suji sees you with all of the hickeys she has given you, her jealousy is long gone now. She is your first and she wanted it to be your last.
Suddenly, without a warning Harin inserts a knuckle deep inside you. You gasp in pain, it definitely is your first time, and it doesn’t help that she has long fingers. All of this sensation is new to you because, hell, you didn’t even touch yourself before. You just ignored the feeling of arousal whenever you felt it.
“Feeling good?” You heard her say, but you only wince as she added another digit into your pussy. You can’t contain your moans anymore, which you tried to block by putting your left hand over your mouth.
She noticed it, she removed your hand and pinned both of your hands swiftly, “Let me hear it, baby.” was all you heard before moaning her name loud. The pain subsided and all you feel is pleasure.
“You’re so tight, love.” Harin is now staring at your fucked up face.
“A-hh! Mommy! R–ooh, right there!” You didn’t even notice that you let that word out of your mouth, either way, Harin liked it.
She held your waist tightly as she added another finger on your pussy. She is now getting rougher with you, with lust and jealousy she felt when she saw you secretly meeting up with that Suji girl.
“Were you asking Suji to fuck you like this? Do you think she can fuck you like this?” God, you didn’t even see Suji that way, you were just busy taking revenge on your so-called fiancee. You were so busy losing your mind with pleasure that you forgot to answer her question, and instead, she squeezed your throat and with that you were gasping for air.
“Answer me, Y/N-ah,” She was now fingering you faster and you felt like you’re going to pee or something.
“No! I only want you, m-mommy!” Satisfied with your answer, she rubbed your pussy as she felt you clenching on her fingers. She knew, you’re near from finishing.
“A–ah! Stop, please! I feel like I’m going to pee! Oooh!” But she didn’t stop and whispered, “That’s okay, love. Just let it go.”
Harin hits a spot that makes you climax. You held onto her clothes tight as you were cumming on her fingers. You can’t control the sounds you’re making anymore and you just sound incoherent. Harin hushes you and kisses you as she removes her fingers after your body relaxes.
Harin opened the night lamp beside your bed. You were almost knocked out. Your face being puffy and red, your messy hair, and hickeys all around your neck, Harin felt like she owns you now.
“I love you, Y/N. You’re mine and mine only.”
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Hope you guys liked it!! First time writing a smut, lol. Please request! I'd like to practice my writing for school. I'll also do other characters from pyramid game!
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racetowrite · 14 days
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Miami, baby
Support a disabled creator
Pairing : Lando Norris x f!reader
Tags : slight edging, uprotected piv (fuck them kids)
Word Count : 3.2k
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After years of painstakingly saving every penny, you finally had the chance to attend an F1 race. Today was the big day, your first-ever experience at an event filled with adrenaline and excitement. You wandered around, searching for some indication of where to go, when suddenly you accidentally bumped into someone.
He was moving with purpose, clearly rushing to get somewhere, and the impact was so significant that you stumbled and fell to the ground with a gasp.
You looked up, disoriented and a little dazed, to find yourself staring into a pair of intense green eyes. The man who had accidentally knocked you over appeared before you. He was tall, strong, and exuded an air of dominance and control. For a moment, the world seemed to move in slow motion as you gazed at him, your heart beating wildly in your chest.
He looked at you with a mixture of surprise and concern, perhaps realizing that he had knocked you off balance. You weren't sure how to react, your body still feeling the impact of your fall. But then, he spoke, his voice deep and commanding yet gentle.
“Are you alright?” he asked, offering you a hand to help you stand up. His voice sent a shiver down your spine, the concern in his tone contrasting sharply with the authoritative quality he exuded.
Despite the confusion caused by the collision, you quickly realize that the person who helped you up is none other than Lando Norris, one of the most popular Formula One drivers on the grid.
Your eyes widen in recognition, but unlike other fans, you don't immediately erupt into a fit of screaming or gushing. Instead, your reaction is more subdued, a mixture of shock and reverence.
"Oh, I'm so sorry. I wasn't looking where I was going," you apologize, your voice a little shaky. You're still feeling the aftershocks of bumping into such a famous figure, but you manage to maintain your composure.
"I'm glad I didn't hurt you badly," Lando replies, his tone still gentle despite the accident. He seems relieved that you aren't hurt, his gaze sweeping over you to make sure you're alright.
You offer him a grateful smile, still trying to process the fact that you're actually face-to-face with Lando Norris. "Thank you for helping me up," you say, your voice a little hoarse.
Lando is struck by how unlike other fans you are. You're not screaming, begging for a picture, or losing your composure. Instead, you're standing there, calm and collected, even after the unexpected collision. This catches his attention and intrigues him.
As he looks at you, he can't help but notice how beautiful you are. There's an innocence and purity in your expression that draws him in, making it difficult for him to look away.
His gaze becomes almost predatory, drinking in every detail of your features. He's captivated by your lack of hysterics and the way you're handling yourself in his presence. Lando is used to fans becoming tongue-tied and overwhelmed in front of him, but you seem completely unfazed.
You realize that the clock is ticking, and the qualifying session is about to start. You hesitate for a moment, knowing that it's time to part ways. You offer Lando a smile and say, "Well, it was nice meeting you, and good luck in the qualifying."
Lando's expression changes slightly. He doesn't want this encounter to end just yet, and the thought of you leaving his side gives him an unpleasant feeling. Without thinking, he finds himself saying, "Wait, why don't you come watch from my box?"
"You could have a better view from there," he adds, hoping that you'll agree to his invitation. Lando doesn't want to admit it out loud, but the idea of having you near him, cheering him on, is strangely appealing.
You feel a pang of guilt as Lando invites you to the McLaren box. You're aware of how expensive those tickets can be, and you don't want to impose or be a burden. But at the same time, you're oddly touched by his invitation, and you can't bring yourself to outright refuse.
Instead, you try to brush off his concern, saying, "Oh, you really don't owe me anything. You didn't knock me that badly, I'm fine."
Lando is taken aback by your response. He’s used to people jumping at the chance to be nearby, especially women who usually throw themselves at him. But you're different. You're not flustered or falling over yourself to accept his invitation. Instead, you brush it off, telling him he doesn’t owe you anything.
For Lando, it's a novel, exhilarating feeling. He finds himself strangely captivated, more intrigued by this unexpected exchange than by any race he’s ever competed in.
Your indifference piques his interest even more. He's suddenly feeling challenged, like he's faced with a puzzle he needs to solve. No one has ever rejected his offer, let alone so nonchalantly. It's frustrating, but in a strangely addictive way. Lando can't help but find himself fascinated by this interaction, his mind more focused on you than on the impending race.
Lando's mind is racing, trying to find a way to keep the interaction going. He doesn't want to let you walk away, not yet. Thinking quickly, he comes up with an excuse.
"Hey, listen," he says, his tone slightly casual, "You should give me your number. Just in case, you know, if you need anything or... something like that."
You can't help but let out a soft laugh at Lando's insistence. You find yourself touched by his concern, but also amused by his persistence.
"Seriously, I'm fine," you assure him again, your voice filled with a hint of humor. "You didn't knock me down that badly. I'm not some damsel in distress, you know."
Lando can't help but chuckle a little at your playful response. He's never met someone so unfazed by his presence, someone who actually has a sense of humor.
“Yeah, I guess you’re not,” he replies, his tone becoming more relaxed. "But still, I'd feel better if I had a way to check up on you. Just in case."
Despite your earlier protests, you can't argue with Lando's insistence. There's something earnest in his tone, a genuine concern for your well-being that’s hard to ignore. Reluctantly, you find yourself agreeing.
"Alright, fine," you say, a small smile tugging at the corners of your lips. "You can have my number if it'll make you feel better."
Lando's face lights up at your words. He hadn't expected you to give in so easily, but he can't deny the feeling of victory that floods through him. With a satisfied grin, he pulls out his phone and hands it to you.
"Great, beautiful. Put your number in here."
As you hand back his phone, your fingers briefly touch, and Lando feels an unexpected spark of electricity shoot through him at the contact. Just before you say goodbye, Lando suddenly hesitates, looking at your tousled hair. With a sly grin, he takes off his signature cap and places it on top of your head, adjusting it slightly so it sits comfortably on you.
"Wear this. Maybe it'll bring me luck," he grins. "And make sure you're cheering for me, okay?"
You can't help but feel a sudden rush of warmth at the gesture. The cap feels oddly comfortable on your head, like a piece of Lando is somehow with you now. You offer him a small smile, your fingers gently touching the cap.
"I'll be your biggest cheerleader," you promise, a hint of amusement in your voice. "Good luck, Lando."
Lando heads off to the McLaren garage, his thoughts whirling in his mind. Although he should be focused solely on the upcoming qualification, he can't keep his thoughts off you. Your nonchalant attitude, your lack of fangirling, and the way you've agreed to give him your number - it all leaves him slightly off-kilter.
He tries to shake off the distraction, to concentrate on his car and his performance. But the image of your smile, and the feeling of your touch, linger in his mind, making it difficult for him to fully immerse himself in the usual pre-qualification anticipation.
Lando quickly snaps out of his thoughts, though. He knows he needs to get in the zone. He puts on his driving gear, his mind focusing on the qualifying ahead, pushing you out of his mind. But even as he does so, his heart beats a little faster than usual, eager to impress you, the mysterious girl who captured his attention from a simple accident.
After placing p1 in qualifying, Lando's heart is still racing with adrenaline. He's thrilled with his performance, but there's something else he's excited about. He remembers the promise you made, that you would be there cheering him on.
As soon as he has a moment, Lando pulls out his phone and types out a quick message to you: "Hey, I placed p1. See you tomorrow at the race, yeah?"
Lando hits send on the message, but a moment later, he realises he's forgotten something crucial. He doesn't know your name. This thought sends a pang of frustration through him. How could he have forgotten to ask for your name?
With a small sigh, Lando types another message, this time asking, "By the way, I never got your name."
Lando's attention is now fully focused on his phone, waiting anxiously for your response. When your text comes through, he's slightly surprised.
"Y/N," he repeats to himself, testing out the name in his mind. "I like it."
He's about to reply when he sees you mention that you'll be watching him tomorrow. A sense of satisfaction and anticipation fills him, knowing you'll be there in the stands, cheering him on.
Lando sends a quick reply: "Can't wait. See you tomorrow, Y/N."
“I promise to be there.”
He can't help but feel a flutter of excitement at the thought of seeing you again, in the stands, cheering just for him. The thought of impressing you with his race only fuels his determination to win even more.
The day of the Miami Grand Prix arrives, and Lando is filled with a mix of excitement and determination. As he steps into his car, he can't help but think of you, a silent motivator in his mind. The race is intense, a chaotic whirlwind of speed and strategy. But Lando's focus is unwavering, thanks to the thought of you in the stands, watching him, cheering him on.
As he crosses the finish line, first place, Lando feels a rush of triumph. He's won his first Grand Prix, right in front of you.
Lando's heart is pounding as he climbs out of the car, the sounds of the crowd and the congratulations of his team a blur around him. All he can think of is finding you in the stands, seeing your reaction to his win. Lando quickly finds his way to the stands, searching for you amidst the sea of fans. And when he spots you, his heart stutters for a moment. You're standing there, a wide smile on your face, and the sight of you makes his victory even sweeter.
Lando is floating on a cloud of triumph.
The whole time, from the interviews to the celebration, Lando's gaze keeps flicking to the crowd, looking for you. Every time he locks eyes with you, a wave of excitement washes over him, making his victory even more meaningful.
Land of has to go through the usual routine after the race - interviews, press conferences, team debriefs. By the time he's finally free, it feels like hours have passed.
He hurries to the McLaren garage, his heart racing with anticipation. When he spots you outside, he feels a mix of relief and excitement. He quickly walks over to you, a wide smile on his face.
"You waited," Lando says, a hint of surprise and gratitude in his voice. He's still in his race suit, dusted with champagne and the exhaustion of the race. But he's too excited to see you to care about how he looks. You smile back at him, the sight of his boyish grin warming your heart.
"I promised, didn't I?" You reply, your tone light.
He takes a breath, trying to calm his racing heart. "That you did," he nods, his eyes dancing with a mixture of adrenaline and amusement. He looks around, suddenly aware of the curious glances from the crew and other drivers. He grabs your hand and leads you away from the crowd, to a more secluded spot.
Lando's hand encloses around yours, and a small shock of electricity shoots through you at the sudden contact. You're surprised at how warm his hand is, how firm his grip is. It's a simple touch, a brief moment of skin against skin, but it leaves you feeling a bit flushed.
You look up at Lando, who's still leading you along, and see a hint of a smirk on his lips. He's aware of the effect his touch has on you, but you're unaware that he's equally affected.
The night progresses, and somehow, you end up in Lando's hotel room, the adrenaline from the race still coursing through his veins. As the door closes behind you, the atmosphere shifts, a charged tension filling the air.
Lando looks at you, his eyes dark and intense. He steps closer, his proximity making your heart race in your chest. The space between you feels electric, the air between you taut with desire.
Lando doesn’t wait any longer. He moves closer, his hand cupping your cheek, his gaze burning into yours. "I’ve been wanting to do this since I first saw you," he murmurs, his voice low, sending shivers down your spine.
A couple of hours later, Lando feels like he’s in heaven.
Your head has been between his thighs for what has to be an hour now, his hand buried in your pretty hair, dragging your lips up and down his dripping cock. From the position, you on your knees beside your shared bed while he sits atop it, Lando fucking your face, it seems like he has all the power. But he knows better. He knows you’re letting him do this; that you, even with your bruised knees and puffy lips, have control over him. Over his mind, his body, his fucking soul.
“Baby, baby, please let me cum,” he whimpers into the quiet of the room, the only sounds echoing in his ears are his little grunts and moans and your obscene slurping around the length of him. “Can’t hold it anymore, y’feel so good, sweetheart.”
But you pull off his cock as soon as the words leave his lips, leaving him aching again. The whine he lets out is demeaning, embarrassing, but you wrap your hand around his cock, jacking him slowly while Lando hears you giggle softly.
“Are you gonna cum before you’ve even gotten my pussy?” You’re teasing him, you’ve been teasing him for the past few hours since you’ve been in his hotel room “Come on baby, you want to be inside me? You’ve been so good.”
Lando nods frantically, unthinking and delirious. “Please, please let me have you baby? I need it so bad. Please sweetheart, ple-”
“lay back for me?” And Lando shoves himself backward, laying himself onto the soft silk sheets. He barely has a chance to prepare himself before you’re standing and straddling him, working the tip of his cock into your dripping cunt.
And Lando knows, he knows, that this is the closest he’ll get to heaven. You moan as you sink down onto him, tight pussy clenching as you work your hips, and Lando almost rips a hole into the sheets with the effort not to thrust up into you, not to fucking cum inside you, right then and there. He’s mumbling nearly incoherently, little praises of “Baby, your pussy feels so good, you’re so tight, so fucking warm, god.”
And you can’t help but think how pretty Lando looks, all flushed and red, nipples still puffy from how you played with them hours earlier, chest heaving with his labored breaths. You rock your hips against him, running your nails down his chest as Lando chokes on a moan.
“You’re so good, baby,” you say, and Lando keens under the praise. “Your cock is so big. Fills me up so good. You stuff me so full, Lan.”
“Please” Lando groans, lips red and puffy from his biting.
“What, baby,” you ask, leaning down to nuzzle under his jaw, leaving soft kisses on his sensitive neck. You’re still grinding your hips, his balls and thighs all sticky from your sopping pussy.
“What do you need, Lan?”
“I need, I need-” Lando stutters, struggling to take a breath. “I need to fuck you baby. Oh god, please, please let me fuck you? Need it so bad.”
Lando knows that it's a long shot, that you could easily refuse him, and he’d let you, just as he’s been letting you refuse him for hours. But you grin between the kisses you’re leaving on his neck, your hips finally coming to a stop. “You’ve been so good. You’ve won the race. Come on, baby, you can fuck me.”
Lando doesn’t need to be told twice.
He tries not to mourn the loss of you around his cock as he slips out of you, quickly rolling you over. He slots himself between your spread thighs, shoving himself back into your gaping cunt, relishing in the pretty moan you let out. Lando’s eyes roll into the back of his head, a sharp gasp escaping his throat at the overwhelming heat of you.
He bucks into you uncontrollably, slamming into your pretty cunt with reckless abandon. He tucks his head into the crook of your neck, hips working endlessly into you, balls slapping against your ass as he mouths at your soft skin.
Your nails are digging into his back as he ruts into your pussy, punching little ah, ah, ahs, out of your chest with every thrust.
You clench so fucking tight around his cock when you cum, a garbled “Lan, fuck, oh god-” leaving your lips as your hips shake and your vision goes white.
Lando is just babbling feverishly into your neck, a long string of “Thank you, thank you, oh god. Love your pussy, thank you for giving me your pussy, you make me feel so good, shit-” and he’s cumming, thick cum shooting deep into your pussy, all while he thanks you.
He doesn’t let you go for a long time, his strong arms wrapped around you as he twitches with the aftershock of his orgasm. You run a calming hand down his back, lightly tracing his scars while you wait for him to breathe normally again. You praise him softly, whispering into his hair, “You did so good, Lando. Made me feel so good baby, you’re so perfect.”
After a few minutes, Lando pulls you closer, his arms encircling you, his body warm and solid against yours. He buries his face in your hair, breathing in your scent.
"You're the real win this weekend," he murmurs, his voice filled with a quiet intensity. "I might have won the race, but finding you, this moment with you...that's what really matters. And I'm not letting you go now that I've found you."
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roosterforme · 18 days
Note
Does Jake ever have nightmares about a mission or his air-to-air kills in the Mr. Right Now Universe? If so, how do you think it goes the first time he has them when Darlin' is around?
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Jake keeps his job pretty well separated from his personal life, but there definitely comes a time when the two can't help but overlap. Naval fighter pilots have it rough when it comes to having a career that is relatable to their partner, but Darlin' always pays attention to what he says. She also knows his moods. I can imagine him returning from a mission where he has a hard time disengaging... (long and angsty ahead)
He was going through the motions. Ever since you picked him up four days ago, Jake was with you, but he still seemed so far away. You thought having him back home again would make everything better, but you found yourself constantly swallowing down a lump of apprehension when you were with him.
"Do you want more pizza?" you asked, watching the way his green eyes shifted from a faraway gaze to focus on your face.
"Yeah," he grunted, accepting the slice without another word.
He wasn't making fun of your pizza. He barely commented on the movie that he insisted he wanted to watch. Even the way he treated you in bed felt off. It was confusing, and you hated the way you were doubting yourself. Originally you thought he just needed some sleep and good food, but he was barely saying a word to you right now.
Tears burned your eyelids as you got to your feet. "Are you not happy to see me?" you asked, voice harsh and raspy.
"What?" he asked, looking up at you, finally focusing on what you were saying.
You held your arms out at your sides. "I missed you, Jake. I missed you for weeks and weeks. I poured my heart out in love letters that I sent to you, but now that you're back, it's like you're still on the aircraft carrier."
He rubbed his hands over his face, a weariness falling into place that made him seem older somehow. "Darlin'," he started, but then he went silent again.
As much as you didn't want to say it, you had to. "Did you meet someone else?"
Images of an older, more sophisticated woman filled your brain even as Jake jumped to his feet. "No! Of course not!"
His arms were around you as you started to cry in confusion. "Then why are you so quiet? Why won't you talk to me?"
"Fuck," he muttered under his breath. "Darlin', there's nobody else. I swear. I'm just having a hard time processing things."
"What things?" you asked softly, looking up at him. When he hesitated again, you led him to the living room couch and got him snuggled beneath the fleece blanket with you. Then you turned off the lamp and ran your fingers through his hair until he was ready to talk.
"You know, I guess I'm supposed to be thrilled that I have five air-to-air kills now," he whispered, voice low and filled with sadness. "It's supposed to mean something when you're an ace. But I haven't really slept in two weeks, because I can't stop thinking about it."
"Jake," you murmured, kissing his forehead even as his arm tightened around you. "That's a lot to process. We can talk about it if you want to."
You could already feel some of the tension easing away as he whispered, "I already feel a lot better just saying it outloud to you." He let you kiss him slowly all over his face as he said, "There's nobody else. There's not going to be anybody else. I promise I'm here, Darlin'. I'm just so tired, and I can't seem to shut down and just sleep."
Without another word, you rubbed circles along his shoulder with your thumb. Soon his breathing evened out, and he was asleep. You would let him sleep as long as he could.
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dawndelion-winery · 7 months
Text
Thanks for the Flowers
You send them a little prank thank you text with flowers they never sent
Ft: Alhaitham, Arlechinno, Childe, Scaramouche, Wriothesley
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Alhaitham:
You thought it would be a funny prank to send him a stock image of flowers and a small thank you
"Glad you like them."
He smiles to himself, but then immediately deleted his message when he sees the attached image
That wasn't the bouquet he sent
His smile drops so fast because who exactly is sending you flowers apart from him?
"Throw those out, they aren't from me. Don't you like the one I sent more? I got your favourites, my love."
He gives the house a cursory scan the moment he steps in through the front door
It's only after you've given him his welcome home kiss and a hug that he starts looking for the bouquet for some trace of who the sender might be
At first he doesn't believe you when you say it's a prank because he wouldn't put it past you to just want to allay his worries
He'll come around though, and then he's annoyed
"That's childish and you know it, you can have my attention if you just ask for it."
Arlechinno:
This is her sign to publicly announce that you're with her because this sort of idiocy wouldn't be an issue if people knew you were spoken for
Initially chuckles to herself as she glares at the offending image
"Do you like them?"
Of course she's not telling you the weren't from her if you like them
The poor sucker who sent them to you deserves no credit anyway
If anything, they deserve her personal thanks for helping her gift you something!
Of course she needs to know their name and face to express her gratitude in person <33
In a totally genuine and non-threatening way (lie)
She ends up coming home late that day, having scared off any of your potential suitors just to be safe
"Had some unsavoury business come up, dearest, sorry to keep you waiting. Have you had dinner yet? No? Shall we dine together?"
She never brings it up though, so you sorta forget to ever tell her it was a joke
Childe:
At first he doesn't process that he didn't send you the flowers
It's not like he doesn't pay attention, but he has his subordinates send you so much stuff as he comes across it that it's really hard to keep track
For all he knows it might have been something he came across and spontaneously thought of you liking it
And your likes were pretty much needs to him
"Love you, my pookie <33"
And then he stows his phone away
Only to remember he hasn't gotten you any flowers that day
"My honey drumlet darling-kins, there doesn't happen to be a note attached to the flowers, is there?"
When you insist that no, there isn't, and you've checked thoroughly, he makes a mental note to look into anyone who's ever had a crush on you
For a friendly spar, of course!
He just needs to make sure his competition is even worth noting (they aren't)
He comes home, thoroughly disappointed that none of them could even hold their own against him - few even dared to try, scared shitless by the sudden appearance of a harbinger demanding they fight
Sweaty and tired, he's all over you, whining about his day and how everyone wants you and can't take a hint that you're so happy with him ("You are, aren't you? I'm your favourite.")
Of course you cave and tell him it was only a prank
He scowls at first, but then breaks out giggling as he buried his face in the crook of your neck
"It doesn't really matter because I think they're all scared of me anyway. Some of them took one look at me and blanched. Unlike you, of course; the sight of me excites you, doesn't it?"
Ah. There's your bastard ginger.
Scaramouche:
"Wrong number, I think you meant to text your side hoe."
Sends you the most unbothered replies
Is actually overthinking
He knows logically this is most likely a joke because he swears he has seen that bouquet somewhere on the internet when looking for flower arrangement inspiration
But what if it's just a really similar layout and someone actually did send it to you?
Horrible. He doesn't want to think about it
But of course he does anyway
Brings you flowers because he planned to sneakily replace the stranger's bouquet
Wriothesley:
"Honey, please tell me this is a joke."
Seething inside
Who in their right mind dared to covet you while you were happily dating him??
Don't even try evade his interrogation, he needs to know every detail
From the exact time the flowers were sent to the arrangement and paper quality
Don't mind him, it's just a small investigation he'll carry out in his free time
The sooner you come clean the better
Not that you'll go unpunished...but hey, confessing to your crimes must at least lighten the sentence, yeah?
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Taglist: @ryuryuryuyurboat @yinyinggie @mx-kamisato @chaosinanutshell @haliyarobin @irethepotato @boundedbyfate @favonius-captain @aqui-soba @tiredsleep @sadlonelybagel @mastering-procrastinating @lemeowade
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