#and every slight change to my body is noticeable apparently

[leclercstars]

save a horse.

dodge mason x reader

Summary: You're annoyed about getting paired with Dodge for a group project. He's quiet, cold, and you find nothing about him appealing (at least, that's what you're telling yourself.) Things start to take a turn when you end up having to work on the project in his bedroom, and suddenly, Dodge becomes the teacher.

Warnings: SMUT! 18+! protected sex, slight daddy kink, dom!dodge, nipple play

author's note: you all asked and you shall receive! god i love dodge mason (and you should too.)

“And you’ll be with Dodge Mason” the professor said when she got to your name on the class list. You thought you would be able to avoid group projects in community college, but apparently not. Dodge didn’t even shoot you a glance when the professor announced you as partners, so things were surely off to a great start.

He always sat in the very back, head low, kept to himself. He never raised his hand to answer a question or chime in on a discussion, and he always hurried out as soon as the professor dismissed class. You had seen him out at parties on occasion, chatting to one or two other guys in the corner. He looked good at parties, blue jeans and a tight t-shirt was a good uniform for him, especially when he added a cowboy hat. But his mysteriousness was unappealing, you found the whole “brooding cowboy” thing to be more cold and standoffish than sexy.

“Dodge! Dodge!” you chased him out of the classroom. You caught up with him and his expression hardly changed when he saw you. “What time should we meet to work on this?”

“8pm tonight sound fine?” he scrawled his address out on a piece of notebook paper and handed it to you.

“Sure! See ya then!” your cheeriness did not impact his mood, and you scoffed as you headed back to your car.

You did not find Dodge Mason appealing at all, but you found yourself standing in front of your mirror at 7:30 p.m. making sure that your outfit looked good. Your skirt was short, your shirt was tight. Why were you doing this? You kept trying to convince yourself you saw nothing in him, but your mind kept flashing back to the way his arms looked in those t-shirts that fit him so right. You threw on a hoodie so you at least seemed a little more casual.

He answered the door as soon as you knocked, and you walked in to quite a few folks in the dining room.

“Sorry, my sister has friends over. We’ll have to work in my room,” Dodge said as he led you down the hallway.

Why was your heart beating faster? You were just going in there to work, and it's only because you can’t go anywhere else.

His room was just as you expected it to be. Gray walls, navy bed sheets, decorated with rodeo trophies and a couple vintage cigarette ads.

“Neat room,” you said, even though it was boring as hell.

“Thanks.” he sat on one edge of the bed and you sat on the other, it felt like there was miles of distance between you- both physically and mentally at this point. Your legs were crossed tight, as you realized maybe wearing a skirt was not the best outfit choice for doing homework on a bed. The two of you got to work, talking about nothing except the work at hand. You were getting so bored, and your mind started to wander. His concentrated face was unfortunately very attractive, as he bit his lip looking down at the paper. His hands were huge, made evident by how small the pencil looked in them. His t-shirt was once again, tight. Hugging every muscle in his arm. You couldn’t stand it anymore. You took off your hoodie, revealing the crop-top you had on.

“Sorry, all this writing and concentrating is making me hot,” you laughed sheepishly.

“No problem.” Dodge replied plainly, although you couldn’t help but notice the way his eyes suddenly scanned your body. He wasn’t even trying to hide it, as they lingered on the curve of your hips and the peaks of your tits, visible over the neckline of your shirt. Your face was getting warmer than the sun.

“I need a break, why don’t you tell me about these trophies?” you shot up and stood by his dresser, desperate to form some sort of connection with this man.

“Alright,” he stayed on the bed. He began explaining each one in pretty great detail. If you couldn’t physically get close to him, at least this was helping you get to know him better. There was a big one from when he was kid that had a particularly funny story to go along with it, and you held the shiny gold cup, facing away from the bed. You didn’t notice the way he slowly got up, coming up behind you and sneaking his hands around your waist. Your breath hitched, the smell of his musky cologne apparent as his neck was mere inches from your face. He turned you around to face him, fingertips never leaving the exposed skin between your shirt and skirt.

You stared up at him, eyes dark and low. It wasn’t his usual uninterested stare. No, this was lust, a throbbing, aching lust. God, he was so tall. You nearly had to tilt your head all the way back to even make eye contact. He cupped your face with both hands and pulled you in, kissing you in a way that you had never been kissed before. It was as if his lips were a key and yours were the lock, they fit perfectly together. His tongue found its way down your throat as his hands started to gently roam, tracing every curve and pausing as he found your ass under the skirt. He cupped your ass and squeezed, hard, earning a moan from you into his mouth. You could feel him smile against your lips as he squeezed again, making you press your body into his. Fuck, his abs were so tight and so defined you could feel them through the fabric. You looked up at him again with pleading eyes and he smirked before leaning right next to your ear.

“You wanna learn how to ride?” he whispered. You knew he was cracking a joke but god it felt so serious in that moment.

“Yes daddy.” you groaned back. Woah. He had never asked you to call him that, and you were not the type to just bust that word out usually.

“Fucking christ I need you so bad,” he hoisted you up and you instinctively wrapped your legs around him as he carried you to the bed. So “daddy” was well received. He flung all the notebooks and paper to the ground with one swipe of his arm. He was holding you up with one arm, giving you a chance to realize how strong he truly was. He tossed you down on the bed, rough but making sure he didn’t hurt you. His shirt came off almost immediately, and you happily helped him undo his belt buckle so you could see more of him. His cock was already throbbing through his boxers, just coaxing you to sit on it. He had already pulled your shirt and skirt off, and expertly unhooked your bra, tossing it to the side and taking a moment as you laid there in nothing but a lacy thong.

“Goddamn,” he sighed, grazing his thumbs over your nipples, teasing you and only making you want his cock more. He started applying more pressure, doing gentle circles with his thumbs and pressing his erection between your legs. Your moans were soft as you bucked your hips into him with progressively more force.

“Easy,” he firmly placed his hands on your hips, steadying them and pressing them back down into the mattress. “That’s no way for a good girl like you to behave.”

Suddenly it was Niagara Falls between your thighs.

He kept playing with your nipples, pinching and twisting and flicking, seeing how good it clearly made you feel. He wrapped his hands around your back and flipped you on top of him, quickly pulling down his boxers and exposing his cock, already slick with pre-cum. He reached into his bedside drawer and pulled out a condom, looking at you as you straddled him.

“You ready baby?” he nearly cooed. You nodded and started to lift yourself up over him, but he decided to take control. His rough hands were planted firmly on the sides of your supple hips, guiding you onto his length. You were soaking wet, but he was so fucking big you could still only take half at once without flinching. He held you steady, waiting for you to get used to the feeling of him inside you. You both had locked eyes the moment he grabbed your hips, and neither had dared to look away, drinking in, being intoxicated by every emotion that crossed the other’s face. He slowly moved you down until you were fully sitting on his cock, gasping as the last inch pushed into your walls. Your hands were on his chest as you leaned forward, eyes now shut as you felt how close the two of you had become. Two hours ago he would barely say a word to you, now he was literally inside of you. He started rocking you back and forth, controlling your hips and making you feel so fucking good. Your clit rubbed against his abs as you rode, sparks zapping across your body every time he moved you in just the right way.

You were on top, but Dodge was fully in control. You were completely submitting to his touch, letting his hands do all the work. His body was doing all the talking he hadn’t done earlier, as he purposely thrust his abs up, knowing that was getting you closer and closer to the finish. You were starting to lose it, made completely stupid by how good his cock felt inside you.

“Fuck Dodge-daddy, fuck,” you were so so close, you could feel the orgasm starting to bubble up in your stomach.

Right as you were about to climax, Dodge sat up and leaned in.

“Cum for me good girl,” the thickness of his voice was enough to send you over the edge as you cried out, breaking free of his hands and grinding on him.

“Oh fuck me,” his head rolled back and the feeling of your pussy clenching around his dick was enough to finish him off, pulsating against your walls.

You slid yourself off him and collapsed onto his pillows, resting your head in the crook of his arm.

He started playing with your hair and the two of you just laid in silence, basking in the bliss of the sex you just had.

That was certainly one ride you never wanted to get off.

dividers by @.cafekitsune

[writtenbymoonflower]

Stumble

James is drunk and you are easily flustered. James Potter x kinda shy!reader

cw: mentions of drinking, being drunk, swearing, slight mention of smut

806 words

You would’ve been scared of the sudden sound of your front door opening if you hadn’t heard your boyfriend's erratic giggles echoing from behind the entrance, along with someone fervently shushing him. 

“Fuck Prongs, are you trying to wake up the whole bleedin’ city?” You heard Sirius’ irritated voice. 

You rushed to the front door to see all the commotion, you knew that James had gone out with Remus and Sirius tonight, but you didn’t expect them to be home so early. 

“Oh thank fuck you’re awake.” Sirius sighed in relief, nudging your bumbling boyfriend towards you. 

“Angel! Oh Merlin, I missed you.” He flung himself towards you, nearly sending you both tumbling to the carpeted floor. You giggled despite yourself. 

“Someone had fun tonight.” You stroked the hair at the nape of his neck, feeling the light amount of sweat coating the tendrils. 

“Oh believe me, he did." Sirius said, his eyes rolling to the back of his head. "He got slightly drunk within thirty minutes and started sharing way too much information about the two of you.” Your face heated and scrunched at that, thankful Sirius chose not to share specifics. “Then he tried to order a lemonade to slow down, but the bartender thought he meant a vodka lemonade. Dumbass didn’t notice until his fourth.” Sirius cracked up, clearly finding humor at his friend's expense. 

“Oh baby,” You laughed in pity. “Thanks for getting him home, Siri.” You waved at your friend before he left, while he muttered something about can’t take him anywhere as he shut the door. 

“Y/N…” James slurred, still not letting you go. “My girl, my sweet baby girl, I missed you so much.” 

“You saw me not three hours ago, Jamie.” You said gently, trying to urge him towards your shared bedroom. He finally relented, wrapping an arm around your shoulders and side-hugging you as you both walked down the hall (you walked at least, he stumbled). 

“I know! A whole three hours without seeing this pretty face.” He tried to boop your nose but ended up just pawing at your face. “How am I supposed to thrive under these conditions? I felt myself dying, I was being drained. You’re too cute to be kept from me.” You thanked your lucky stars he was probably too wasted to notice how his words affected you. 

You were always easily flustered by James, anytime he was his usual sickly sweet self your whole body heated and you couldn’t look him in the eye. He made you feel all too exposed and all too small at the same time. Thankfully, he was a kind boyfriend and rarely used his powers to torment you (despite how much he wanted to declare his love for you every second of every day). But apparently, in his impaired state he either didn’t remember how he made you suffer or didn’t care. 

You walked through the bedroom (having to tug James away from the bed, which was very difficult considering he was both strong and dead weight), into the ensuite. 

“You’ve gotta brush your teeth, Jamie.” He whined but complied, grabbing his toothbrush and jumping onto the counter like a little kid. "Thank you." You said, being extra gentle with him in this state.

“How am I supposed to disobey when you sound so cute bossing me around?” You rolled your eyes, trying to keep from getting dizzy with affection. You put some paste onto his brush and he got to cleaning his teeth, keeping his doe-eyes on you the whole time. He brushed for about 20 seconds before jumping from the counter, spitting and rinsing his mouth. He didn’t waste any time grabbing for you. 

“Jamie, c’mon, let’s get you changed.”

“Yeah? You gonna strip me down, baby?” You stifled a pained laugh, turning to ash on the spot. “If you wanted me naked you just had to say so, you didn’t have to pretend there was another reason. Sneaky girl.” He grabbed your face in his hands and squished your cheeks, kissing your pushed-out lips. You shook him off and he quickly started undressing down to his boxers. Once he was done with that he grabbed you again. 

“Let’s get to bed.” You tried to gently lead him over but he flung you both onto the mattress. You every so gently pulled his glasses form his face, folding them and setting them on the nightstand.

“Never stop touching me, I can’t handle it.” He whined, looking deep into your eyes with enough love to make your chest burn. “You’re too pretty to let go. Way too pretty. You’re like, glowing. You always are. It’s no fair, Angel.” He grabbed your face in his hands and started kissing all over your face. 

You had a feeling the night was nowhere close to being over. 

[ghoulishhx]

16 from that smut prompt list (accidental i love yous) is just too perfect for some frank angst 👀

16.) accidental i love you’s during sex

my first angst fic omg love love love, thank you for the rec mwah!!

part 2 - acceptance ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ part 3 - babygirl, i love you

18+ MDNI !!

My Masterlist!

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Pairing: Frank Castle x Fem!Reader

Content Warning: MDNI, slight smut, angst, (characters thoughts are in italics)

Wordcount: 1.5k

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✦ please don't go

“Oh fuck Frank rightthererightthere oh my GOD.. I-I’m so close..”

You’ve been hooking up with Frank Castle for almost 6 months now, pretty much the entire time you’ve known him. You met when you noticed him sprawled out across the roof of your apartment complex, injured and bleeding. You took him in, being a nurse yourself you couldn’t allow yourself to leave him so close to death alone. You knew who he was, after seeing him on TV his face was unmistakable. Those eyes, dark and brooding, that nose. After patching him up, you offered him a drink and got to talking. The next thing you know, you were being bent over your dining room table as he fucked you so intensely you thought the wood beneath you would cave in on itself.

During this time with him, he barely opened up to you, only in little bits. He discussed his late wife and children in small amounts. You never wanted to pry so you listened whenever he divulged his past, offering your understanding in the form of sex. You knew he appreciated his time with you, there was no doubt in your mind about that. He needed someone, but the concept of a relationship to him was far too much too soon. His heart still 100% belonged to Maria, and it always would, you knew this and that's why the feelings you began to feel made you feel evil. You began falling for him, hard, after a few months. 

The way he made you feel, so attentive to your needs and wants, the way he would hold you after ruining you, all the back rubs and kisses on the top of your head filled your heart with love and more so guilt. You knew he wouldn’t handle your feelings well, he’s still in the thick of grief. But you couldn’t help it, you knew your confession would cause him to leave and selfishly the thought of this killed you. You told yourself you were okay with the yearning for him, if it means you can keep seeing him, feeling him, in a way that was within his boundaries. You told yourself you were okay with this, it didn’t bother you.. But oh boy you were wrong.

Every visit from him just added to the pain in your heart, you wanted him so bad. You wanted to be his. The way he made you feel was nothing you had experienced from anyone else before. Yet you kept gaslighting yourself into believing you were okay with your situationship.

“You feel so fucking good baby, fuck.. Cum for me, cum all over my cock.”

He reaches down and starts roughly stroking your clit, making your orgasm approach even quicker. It’s not long until you’re seeing stars.. He’s always so attuned with your body, knowing what you need when you need it, touching you the way that makes you come undone.

You whine and the sounds you make are unintelligible to your mind, you think you said something but you don’t know what as you were so cockdrunk, probably some nonsensical babbling as you have never orgasmed as hard as you did right then.

His pace froze for a minute, you look up to him above you and all the colour from his face has left, his look in his eyes changing from lust to something unintelligible. 

Oh fuck. You fucked up royally.

He climbs off of you, not having finished himself, his cock softened a little however his arousal was still apparent. You cover your mouth instinctively, having realised what just happened. 

You told him you loved him.

He looks away from you, refusing to match your eye contact. He sighs as he goes to the bathroom to clear himself up. You turn to your side and you can’t stop the tears from flowing anymore so you just let them, holding a hand to your mouth to stifle the noise.

He stays in the bathroom for around 5 minutes, looking at himself in the mirror. "How could I be so stupid?", he whispers to himself. He could tell you were catching feelings, the lingering looks you gave him, the more touchy you became he could sense you had changed. But he was selfish, practically exploiting your situationship because he didn’t want to lose you either. You were good for him, too good. He believed he didn’t deserve you. You and your perfect smile, doe-like innocence compared to his rugged traumatised self. He let it go too far, and he should’ve left months ago. But he was addicted to you. 

He looks at himself in the sink, as his eyes trail down to the chain around his neck holding the wedding band signifying his union with Maria. How could he do this? He felt so disgusted in himself, he just had to leave and never look back. He was catching feelings for you too but he never allowed himself to think about it. He wasn’t ready in the slightest, he didn’t want to hurt you. You didn’t deserve this.

He gets dressed in the bathroom, pulling his clothes over him. Fuck, they smell like you as well. This is torture.

He leaves the bathroom reluctantly, knowing he would have to face you. You had gotten yourself dressed, the evidence of your upset written across your face with mascara stains. Part of him wanted to throw all of his thoughts to the side, grab you in his arms and tell you he loves you too. But you deserve better.

Someone that isn’t him.

“I think it’s best I go.”

He turns to leave, stopping at the door knob in your room. You grab his arm,

“No, please. I’m so sorry, Frank. I-I dunno what came over me..” you begin to plead as he turns his frame to face you, refusing to meet your eyes because if he did, he knew he would lose all self control.

“This isn’t right. You deserve better than me, fuck I should never have let you so close.” his breath increases pace, his chest heaving.

“But I don’t want better, I want you.”

He meets your eyes now, your words strike him in his core.

“Fuck, you don’ know what you want,” he spits at you, “Imma fucking monster. There’s no good fucking ending for me. I need to do what I need to do and I’m not making the mistake of lettin’ anyone else get close to me. Not again.” he looks down at his chest, eyes welling at the sight of the gold ring. The last time he felt like this for anyone it cost him his happy ending, submerging him in this cold, dark tunnel with no sign of light.

You’re stunned by his cold words. His demeanor never changed drastically so fast, he had never been like this with you. But despite all this, he is still the only person in your heart. You go to touch his face, grabbing his cheeks and meeting his gaze.

“You don’t get to decide what I want, only I can. And there's no one else for me Frank, please just let me in...”

He grabs your wrists and forcefully pushes you off him, lifting his eyes to look at you. You can practically see the anger rush over them.

“I don’t want that. I don’t want you.”

Fuck.

I don’t want you.

His words hang in the air, you’re left speechless at how cold he’s being, pushing you away so easily. Tears well in your eyes, "if only I had kept my fucking mouth shut he would be holding me in my bed right now, cuddling me after we made eachother feel so good", you think to yourself.

His anger takes over at him, anger directed towards no one but himself. However he chooses to take it out on you.

“Don’ fucking give me that look. Don’t fuckin’ cry over someone like me. You know better than that. I’m not a good person. Once you get that through your skull you’ll get over it. Now let me fuckin’ go.”

His words cut through you like knives, tearing through your heart and bleeding you out dry.

You can’t help the tears streaming down your face, you can’t believe this is happening. Your chest tightens up and you can barely breathe, you know you’ve lost him, the one good thing in your life is gone and you’re watching it happen.

“Please don’t leave. Please.” you whisper so quietly you don’t know if he heard, your whole body trembling with anxiety.

He looks at you one last time, for a second his face changes, looking like he was going to take you up on your offer. Yet he still turns away from you, fighting that urge, believing it was for the best.

"I don't need this, you don't need this.." he spits at you, facing the door, glancing at you over his shoulder. "This was a mistake, you should'a just let me die on that roof. Would'a been easier for the both of us."

He storms through the apartment towards the front door yet you stay paralysed in your bedroom. Unable to move your feet and allowing him to slip through your fingers. You know he’s gone by the slam from the front door.

And just as quickly he came into your life, changing it in everway, he’s gone.

And you’re left alone.

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a/n: thank you for the prompt! i'd be happy to turn this into a little series if that's something you guys would like :3, let me know your thoughts!

my inbox is open!

[renren-006]

being geta’s betrothed and catching lucius’ eye!

Amor Fati | Lucius Verus Aurelius

plot: high status fem reader (betrothed to Geta) x Lucius the boy who saw who she truly was

use of roman lingo/historical terms, angst, not entirely canon accurate, death and violence

translation of amor fati: love of fate

Word Count: 3923 Other Stories: Familer Eyes, Emporor Lucious, Doctors Magic

a/n: thank you so much for the request i was so excited to write this!! I did my best to also write a bit more "Roman"! Enjoy!

The sun beat down on the emperor's box. Only so much the velarium could do to prevent the sun's rays from entering the little room. You leaned forward in your seat, and closer and closer, you crept to the railing. You wanted to feel more of the sun; it was the only time of the day you were allowed outside the palace, and you wanted to enjoy every bit of it. 

Once the sun hit your face, a sigh escaped your lips, and the tension in your body fell. The warmth and heat of the sun made everything feel better. You knew Geta would scold you any minute for the act, but you could care less. 

Your imprisonment in the palace started a year ago when your father, an elite senate member, said you were to be married to the emperor. Apparently, the emperor was looking to the senate members for marriage offers; your father was the first and only one to stand with one. Your face fell at the memory of him coming home and telling you to pack your things and leave for the palace. You screamed yourself that night, fought every way to that place, and didn't even spare a glance at the emperor before you were shoved in your room with the door locked behind you. 

You sat back at the memory, wanting to leave it in the past. You couldn't change your fate, the one you were forced into. You had always hoped you wouldn't be one of the women thrown into an arranged marriage by their fathers, but here you were. While you and Emperor Geta were not married, you knew it was coming soon. A shaky breath left you at the thought. Geta was not a terrible man, but he wasn't a good one either. You could see his rage and ambition, and it scared you the way he ruled with it. 

You looked to your left and saw Geta sitting on his throne with a plastered smile. It was a wicked one. You shrunk away at the sight. You wished for nothing more than to be rid of him and this role. The more you ponder, the more you lose track of the world. It wasn't until Getas's voice spoke up next to you that you blinked back to reality.

“Why is that gladiator looking at…you” Geta said, casting an aggravated look down towards the pits. You turned your head towards the gladiator in question. You felt as if lightning struck you when you locked eyes with him. For that tiny moment, you felt as if all that mattered in the world was him. This brown-haired blue-eyed gladiator smirked at you, making your heart beat even faster. A slight blush crept up your cheeks. You looked away before anyone noticed and before the heat in your stomach could intensify. Geta eyed you suspiciously before returning to the games and seemingly forgetting about everything. You let out a slow breath that you didn't realize you had been holding. You often wondered how many times a day you forget to breathe when around Geta, always worried about being anything other than perfect. 

That night was filled with another lavish party, and you tried to keep a smile and content look on your face. You glanced towards the arches on the far side of the room that led out onto the streets of Rome. People passed through them as they entered the party, coming and going. You wished you were one of those people, able to come and go as pleased. You knew you had to wait till night when the empire slept before you could creep out onto the streets. The furthest you had made it in one night was past the gates, watching the sunrise over the hills towards the countryside. You were back in your room by sun up and complained of feeling ill to get out of leaving your room for the day. Those days when you could be yourself at night and explore were all you looked forward to.

As the night grew late and their parties died, you bid farewell and went to your room. You were overlooked as you left; the emperors were occupied with their own girls. Thoughts swarmed your mind. ‘this would not be how your night ended’, you wanted to see the gladiator that caught your eye. You stopped momentarily before a smile crept onto your face, another perfect outing. You slipped your way out of the palace and onto the streets of Rome. 

The Colosseum loomed ahead of you, drawing you in. You walked through its halls, which were quiet now in the late night hours. The only noise could be heard from the Ludus, where the gladiators lived. You walked inside, the cloak around your neck and head protecting you slightly. The men eyed you curiously, some recognizing you from the emperor's box. Ravi, the gladiator's doctor, walked over to you. 

“I see your adventures have taken you here,” he said lightly. Ravi was one of the few men you had come across on your nightly walks that were kind and enjoyable to converse with. You nodded your head at the man.

“After much pleading from you and the electrifying eyes of a gladiator, I was drawn here,” you told him honestly. Your voice steady as you spoke to him

“Someone catch your eye,” Ravi said, laughing a little. He motioned you to follow him as he showed you towards their dining area. “Not much longer will they be here.” Many gladiators were still enjoying the company of others while eating the rest of their final meals of the day. You glanced around the room, waiting for him to catch your eye. You glanced out twords the training grounds in search of him. There he was, training for his next day in the arena. You walked over to the walkway's edge, carefully watching from afar. When he heard your feet as they drew closer, he glanced behind him. His eyes met yours, and the same electrifying feeling was sent through your body. The man dropped his sword and marched over to you.

“Noble women should not be down here,” he told you, eyeing you up and down. His hands reached out and threaded through some of the fabric of your dress. “Or did you come here to boast about your position”

“I am not one to boast,” you told him. His eyes were finally brought back up to meet yours. “I am only here to…meet you.” The sweetness in your voice dripped like honey, drawing him in like a bee. The man before you could practically taste the sweetness of your voice. 

“Hmm,” he hummed. “I am not interesting, my lady,” he said with a deep accent. It made your knees feel weak hearing it from his lips. You both stood in each other's presence, neither wanting to move or break the moment. 

“What is your prenomen?” you asked the gladiator before you. He glanced down before returning his gaze to your face. 

“Hanno,” he said, “my lady”

“I do not need the formality,” you told him, “y/n will do.”

“y/n.” It rolled off his lips with ease and sensuality that you almost felt yourself lose composure. Hanno was nothing like the man you had known or knew; he was something else entirely. “The guards call for me now, I must leave you.”

“I will pray for you tomorrow.” Eagerness filled your voice with the promise. 

“I do not need your god's help,” Hanno's words hung in the air, “your presents is enough.” with a sweet smile, he left twords his cell. You could tell he held a lot on his shoulders. 

As the night turned to day, golden rays warmed the earth. You rose from your bed, the night's events playing in your head still. A smile played on your lips at the thought of seeing your gladiator fight. You waited for your gladiator to file into the arena. As he did, a small smile played on your lips. 

“Minerva, let his sword be true,” you whispered. The wind picked up momentarily, brushing past Hanno; they heard your prayer. He fought true and won his battle, Rome was pleased by his winning. Hanno looked up at the emperor's box and smiled at you before showing his sword. He was showing you his praise, the rest of the box saw this as an act of respect for the emporos. You knew it was only for you.

You simply watched Hanno behind shadows as he trained for the next few days. He knew you were there, but no words could leave your lips around him. Your heart hammed in your chest as you watched him train, or fight.  Your growing infatuation was making your life complicated. 

Geta strolled into the palace library, seeking to find you. You sat in the far corner, immersed in a book.

“My beloved,” he said, a smile on his face. “Why have you abandoned your duties��� “Geta… ”you signed; this was a conversation you did not know how to have. “I…” “Answer me,” the emperor before you commanded you, not the man you knew he shielded himself from. 

“I had a moment of weakness not fulfilling those duties.” you told him smoothly, “I shall resume them.” “Good. As the woman I am to marry, you must show me you are loyal.” “As you wish. My Geta,” you told him. He smiled before he kissed your cheek and left the library. The breath you held was released, and you let the book in your hands fall to the floor. Tears fell from your eyes again. Geta was never cruel, but his words cut deep to you like a knife. Those words of duty and obligation stung like a bee. You were haunted by the duty and life that was forced upon you, something inside you wished to flee. Your maid rushed to your side, plying your hands from your face to wipe the tears that fell.

“Shhh, mistress,” she whispered, “you must not cry in these halls, ears and eyes everywhere.” You wanted only to be held but knew the status between you and the older woman before you forbade it. She held your hand at the sad and pleading look in your eyes for some motherly support. 

“I…do not want this role,” you whispered.

“I know, miss. I know. You must please the emperor, or he will punish you,” she told you, “I see him punished. Cruel man.” A small cry fell from your lips; the idea of seeing who he is beyond the Geta you have seen scared you. 

Those next few days, you did as asked and never left Geta’s side. You made your smile look like jewels to Geta and the others in his company. You did everything right, making Geta lose his interest in seeing your complacency. As the days turned to weeks he slowly lost his interest in you, your complacency, no signs of love, he turned back to his women he had hanging off his throne. 

It was not until a few days later that you visited Hanno in Ludus. You slipped into his cell. He turned from the wall he faced to find you lifting your head to meet his eyes. 

“You are back,” he said, walking over. 

“Yes,” you were firm in your answer before you deflated. “I needed to escape.” 

“Escape? From where?” he asked, motioning for you to sit in the small bed he had been given. You shook your head, not ready to tell him of the life you know others would grab for. 

“Why did you look at me that way in the arena?” You asked him. He glanced up at you. 

“You should not ask that,” he said softly. 

“I will ask. Hanno, I need to know,” you told him, almost pleading with the man before you to tell you why he had a slight look of love and familiarity in his eyes. 

“Your eyes. Your smile. Reminded me of my wife who passed,” he told you, interrupting your voice. “I felt a connection, and I wanted to…I wanted to be with you, see what it was”

“I am sorry about your wife” you said in response. “I too...wanted to be with you”

“You have the emperor.” his voice was still tired as he spoke. Reminding the both of you of the obligations you were given. 

“I do not love him. I do not wish to be with him,” you told him 

“Then why are you?” he asked, curious about your life. 

“Not my wish. My father sold me to him…I fought that night to not go,” you told him, words turning from anger to sadness. Hanno's hand landed on your knee. The callouses felt good against your soft skin. Your eyes met his. 

“We are both here not of our own will,” he told you, filling your soul with understanding. You sat with Hanno for a while before bidding on your goodbyes. You looked back at him when you left; love looked back. 

The next time you visit was when Hanno sat outside on the training grounds. You watched the sun sink lower and lower into the horizon.

 “Why do you keep visiting me?” you glanced back twords the man beside you. Those tired eyes filled with more life as the moments passed. 

“You see me,” you told him, “no…obligations are required when i am with yo.u”

“What else?” he asked, knowing there was more behind your words. 

“You are the only one to see me, truly see me,” you told him, “not as some senator's daughter or the emperor betrothed…I do not have to be perfect when I am with you, I can just be”

“You are simply y/n,” he told you, “you are yourself; you are not defined by your father or your position.” “I wish that to be so,” you said sadly. The weight of your life and position felt like the most significant challenge you had. You knew he understood; you could feel your souls connecting more and more. 

“I escaped my position long ago,” he said quietly, “I fear after returning to Rome, I must soon take that position again.”

“May I ask what position?”

“In time,” he told you, smiling sadly. You nodded, understanding the desire to hide parts of himself. To be seen was intimate, and he was not yet there. You placed a hand on top of his, causing his eyes to lift to yours.

“I am here whenever you wish to tell me more…But I must go before I am looked for” you told him. You stood, still holding his hand, he turned it to grasp yours. He smiled a sad tired smile. You nodded your head as a bid goodbye and left his side. The walk back to your prison had never felt so cold and lonely before. 

It was days beofre you went back, knowing your visits were drawing more eyes on you than you intended to. This may have to be your last one for quite some time. As you walked to meet with Hanno, he grasped your hand. 

“What is wrong,” you asked him. Tired, scared, and anxious eyes looked at you.

“You should not have come.” “What? Why?” you asked worried

“There is…a plan happening, and your being here will put you in danger.” “Hanno. What plan?” you glanced behind you twords the other cells and guards.

“Remember I told you I left my position here in Rome,” he said, causing your eyes to lock back in with his. He has his hands on your arms, keeping your attention on him. “I do.” In your response, you looked into his blue eyes hesitantly.

“This position…was the prince of Rome. My name, my true name is Lucious Verus Aurelius.” “You…Lucious?” you asked he smiled something unique. Recognition with his name when it came from your lips, like that name was meant to be spoken by you. 

“Yes. Y/n” “I cannot believe it”

The night was spent with him retelling his history to you and the stories he lobed in the colonies across the Mediterranean. He spoke of the people, their beliefs, and the difference between there and Rome. The world beyond Rome's white marble sounded divine.  You were swept up in his stories, his eyes, and the lips that kissed you before you left the cell.

“Lucious” “Promise you will keep yourself safe,” he asked of you, forehead on yours. Red lips speaking to you.

“As safe as I can be,” you told him, knowing that the gods would only decide your fate. Another kiss from the man-made your world spin again. As you left, a smile played on your lips back to your gloomy home.  

“Where have you been my betrothed?” Geta asked you as he came walking down twords you. He plucked the book from your hand, causing you to face Geta. 

“I have been here,” you told him. His eyes track your every move. He kept looking at you, disappointment was evident.

“You lie to me. Your emperor,” he told you, a scrolling voice filled the library. Your maid backed away further into the room. 

“I…” you stuttered, unable to find your voice for a reason. 

“You think it does not know about the escapades you partake in?” Geta asked you gesturing to the world outside of the palace. Your head hung low. Worry filled your head, scared he may be the man everyone fears he is. Cruel and unkind. 

“I shall show you why you do not mess with me,” he said. He took your arm in his hands and dragged you away. You looked back as you were pulled away from the library; your maid wept at your leaving. As you looked forward, tears slowly fell from your eyes. That moment you knew would come of your desire to be outside the palace had come. 

You walked out onto the emperor's box landing. There you stood, chained and beaten. Tiny droplets of blood had dried in the corner of your mouth, your cheeks were bruised, and your hair had seen better days. There were minor cuts and bruises along your arms that were not covered by the dress you were strapped in. Once in the stands, the people around you could see. You glanced down at the pits, knowing that when Lucious came out of those wooden gates and saw you, he may try to do something he shouldn't. The crowd grew loud in the stands, many not knowing why they stood in chains.  As those mighty doors opened and Lucious stepped out you wished to scream to him to run. A whimper escaped you when he faced you, the other gladiators entering faded into the background. You watched his face contort with anger; your eyes pleaded with him not to do anything.

“Is this what Roman emperors do? Is this how they treat their women?” he yelled out. 

“It is what we do with women who are unfaithful,” Geta responded, a coolness about his tone and words. You were pulled towards him, crashing into his body. He held your arms and chains tight in his hands. You wanted to cry, scream, and beg someone to set you free. “We must show them that whoever they choose to be with instead of their betrothed…must be killed”.

“No…no, please,” you whispered, begging around the cuff of your neck. You tried to turn to Geta to beg him to not hurt Lucious, but when you looked, your throat closed. He was looking at Lucious, already figuring out what man you had been seeing. The viscous nature of Geta, which you had heard so much about, was finally presented to you. You looked back twords Lucious, those tears you tried your best to hide slowly fell down your cheeks. 

If only you could know how Lucious felt in that moment, watching you be made a villain by the emperor, watching you chained and without freedom. He felt what you felt, every last emotion.

Geta pulled at the chains around your neck to take your eyes off Lucious. Tears now streamed down your face. “You would rather a gladiator, a slave, than me”, he screamed. His face is red with anger, and he looked at you. 

“Yes,” you responded, eyes moving to try and look twords your gladiator. There, Lucious stood proudly watching you as you told the man who had taken you from your home and told you were to marry him without any freedom that you had your freedom to love. Lucious moved closer to the box.

“You should let her go,” Lucious said, “You do not own her.” Many in the crowd started cheering for him, their favorite gladiator. Geta looked stunned by the words leaving Lucious mouth. He looked at the crowd, which was turning into a mob of people yelling twords the emperor to let you go free. The archers around the walls turned onto the people, unsure what to do. Geta himself looked clueless. 

“I am your emperor,” he shouted, “my words and actions are permitted by the gods.” “Maybe your gods, but not mine,” Lucious yelled, angling his sword to be thrown twords the box. As he looked into your eyes, you saw the sea's calm. You released all tension in your limbs and focused just on him. 

Everything changed, however, when General Acacious stormed into the Colosseum with his army. It was as Lucious had said; his family had planned something. The entire might of General Acacius' army stood in the Coliseum, and the emperors looked down in horror. Geta was now lost more, and it looked like he wanted to run. That's when the gladiators in the arena charged twords the emperor's army. No one was allowed to choose a side or talk before fighting erupted. Geta let your chains go; the weight pulled you down a little. You picked them up, allowing you to see the chaos around you. With all the men and swords, you lost sight of Lucious. Before long, one of the guards aimed a sword at you, and you looked at him wide-eyed. Before he could do anything to you, a sword burst from his chest; the guard looked down in shock before he collapsed. Lucious stood behind the man, proud and angry. The day's emotions caught up to you, and you collapsed into his arms. 

“It's alright now,” he spoke to you. The clashing of swords and loud voices filled the space around you. “I am here now.” You looked up into his eyes; a small smile danced on his face.“What has got you so happy?” “You. Saving you and being able to do that…”You could tell that he was finally able to save someone, someone special, and healed something inside of himself. He smiled at you, bright and happy. Freedom never looked so good, especially since freedom meant being with Lucious. As the fight continued in the arena, neither of you were concerned.

[sparklykat-hideoutenthusiast]

I've seen people doing an intro post so I suppose I should do the same right? I have no idea how to do this, I'm just winging it :3

INTRO POST TIME WOOO!!

[last updated: sat dec 7th at 7:18 PM 2024]

(I update this often, a reread of it every now and then would be greatly appreciated!)

Maybe every week/month depending on your time scale? ↑

Follow my other blog where I reblog a bunch of stuff and things for the full experience of my personality and interests! @eckos-reblogs :3

@everytime-i-reach-the-postlimit ←Exactly as the name entails

@nature-is-mystical ←is my other random blog that you can follow as well if you want.

that blog is just for reblogging nature stuff and posting nature stuff. (Occasionally rhymes come with it ig)

side blog for fanart!: @sonar-fanart-hall

I'm always working on making reference sheets for OCs ^^

Chill dude side blog: @cool-dudes-official

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I will continue to edit this, probably for the rest of time to get it right since I'm a slight perfectionist lol

Hello! I've been an artist for around 5 to 6 years, and I still kinda suck at it! I do traditional art normally but I've been branching out to digital art as well. I mostly draw animals, anthropomorphic creatures, creatures in general, whatever beautifully ugly faces I can come up with, and sometimes human faces!

I classify as a furry but do not reblog a ton of furry stuff nor do I have a fursuit. I just like drawing and seeing anthropomorphic animals :3

Furries, Therians, anyone of lgbtq+ community (including ace people cuz apparently there's a debate about that), weirdos (but NOT in the gross way), and more are welcome on my blog! :3 ❤️ (you're kinda automatically welcome if you're kind anyway lol but whatevs :3)

Tags and stuff! To help you find stuff in my blog better through search :)

#Ecko draws -exactly as is obvious, it will be for when I make art, digital or traditional.

#Echo Rambles -For posts of mine that include mainly me talking about random stuff

#Echo rants - for when I rant. Similar to #Echo rambles but different..

#Echo answers - For when I answer asks!! :D

#The Clowder seeks - For when you guys ask me stuff!

#Mama Change - For when I mention my mom. (Her name is change..or it's more of a nickname but no one calls her by her actual name except for professional/job people like a dentist or something)

#Echo asks - For when I ask questions :3 lol

#Eckos moots <3 - for interactions with moots, obviously 🙄 (I love y'all sm)

#Ecko irl - me irl

My main Media for traditional art is, pens, pencil, gel pens, paint markers (posca) and normal markers! I hope to soon branch out to ink! (Maybe one day you'll get to see some watercolor stuff from me. It's not that good of watercolor art and I don't enjoy painting too much tbh)

Anatomy You say? Don't know her 😔

If you are interested, I do art requests! It's not guaranteed to be good or to be done quickly but I will try my very best every time. You can even request multiple times if you'd like! Like a ton of times! I really don't mind!

You can also request art of fandoms I'm not in but make sure to give me a good reference or the drawing will look off :3

Art requests open until further notice.

If there's something I don't mention here that you're wondering if I can draw or not, give me an ask in my inbox and I'll let you know! (Pls, I'm friendly I swear)

You can also dm me if you'd like but I'd prefer the askbox instead (⁠´⁠-⁠﹏⁠-⁠`⁠；⁠)

I can't draw/don't want to draw: items, anatomy, bodies (unless you want the equivalent of a boxy stick figure), rendering, lighting, dragons (without a reference), romance/NSFW (no, just no.), hands, human legs (for the life of me 😭), +more

I can draw/like to draw: faces, animals (mostly cat related ones but you can request any animal and I'll at least try to draw it.), different hair styles (only with a reference), eye bags (I think they're pretty lol), dragons (only with a good reference), gore (not the best at it but I'll will try my best to make something nice and bloody for ya!), +more!

My name is Ecko and it's my preferred name but you can refer to me as Melleona (my OC) or by a nickname as well if you'd like! (just please ask me first if you want to use a nickname as I'm bad with setting boundaries.)

My pronouns are She/Her but feel free to refer to me as it/it's! :3

Speaking of which! This is my OC, Melleona:

She is 14 years old, she is introverted and blunt but also shy and insecure. She has anxiety, dealt with a bit of depression, and she's very casual as well as lazy (like me lol)

She's half Cat, she has greyish blue eyes (not visible in the drawing), slightly blueish black hair that's long enough to reach her ankles, she has a mushroom themed party hat, and some wicked whiskers!

If there's anything you'd like to ask me about her or ask her, go ahead and ask away! I love anons and normal asks! ❤️❤️❤️ (There is a slight filter on the drawing. I'll edit this later and put her color palette below ❤️)

I'm a minor! Mind your words, don't send me gross/weird asks or messages. (I've already had a few people message me asking for my age, a picture of me, and my sexuality. No, I will not be sharing my real appearance on here. my age? Minor, that's all you need to know. My sexuality? I don't know and you don't need to know either, respectfully ^^❤️)

IDC if I post something slightly suggestive or that says I know about 18+ themes. I posted it, not someone saying something to me of those themes. Sure, I understand the stuff but It really doesn't matter now does it? It just means I understand enough to know you shouldn't be saying that stuff to me. (Boundaries ✨)

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I do half-curse in posts from time to time. I do censor it a bit tho, like "f7ck" for example. Hope ya don't mind (⁠；⁠^⁠ω⁠^⁠）

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I'd appreciate it if people reblogged my art!

I don't appreciate reposting it however.

Just in case you don't know what the difference between reposting rather than reblogging: it's when you (typically) take a screenshot of the art, and then repost it on either Tumblr or a different app rather than hitting the reblog button!

While this has never happened to me personally, I do feel like it's worth mentioning.

Oh, and, don't under a circumstance feed my art to AI. I can forgive reposting my art. I put out there for people to see not to get fame from it but under no circumstances EVER will I allow feeding my art to AI. It is not human. It does not make art.

AI artists don't exist unless it's used ONLY to assist with a process that is still mostly YOUR OWN SKILLS THAT YOU'VE CULTIVATED OVER TIME. AI is NOT art but it can HELP with art.

ミ⁠��⁠﹏⁠☉⁠ミ-ミ⁠●⁠﹏⁠☉⁠ミ-ミ⁠●⁠﹏⁠☉⁠ミ-ミ⁠●⁠﹏⁠☉⁠ミ-ミ⁠●⁠﹏⁠☉⁠ミ

don't dm asking me to commission from you. like said before, I don't have money bc I'm a minor + I don't like being pestered for me commission you. talk to me like a person, not an ATM.

If I want to commission someone, I will dm them and even then, I'm most likely to commission art from a friend to support them.

I support the lgbtq+ community! And I don't discriminate against race. I really shouldn't have to say this. (˘⁠･⁠_⁠･⁠˘)

I will respond to money asks with "!!" And that's it. I don't have money and even if I did I don't got any money to spare. I'm broke and struggling too. Not to mention, I'm a minor and can't just go out and get the stuff. I hope you understand and I wish you all the best!❤️❤️❤️

Some games and shows and stuff I like:

Shows and stuff: Rick and Morty, adventure time, lost in space, bsd (never watched it but I've seen enough of it on the Internet to know a bit about it. Very interesting :3), Some of the Life Minecraft series, httyd, doctor who, and more!

Games/fandoms: Yonder(Yonder Cloud Catcher Chronicles.), Minecraft, the Stanley parable, tiny bit of South Park, cotl, MLP(childish I know but I don't care. I love them), creepypasta, SCPs, Trevor Henderson's creatures (mostly cartoon cat), plants vs zombies, fran bow, little misfortune, and more!

Stuff and things (hobbies?): Art, apparently I make rhymes now too??, rollerblading, climbing, Hiking (iffy), sleeping, being annoying+lazy, doom scrolling, interacting with people, and more!

(I'm not really in any fandoms really..kinda like on the edge of being in each and every fandom I come across..)

General facts about me! Yippee!

I think eye bags and wrinkles are pretty (odd, I know lol), I live in a bus (not decked out like you see on social media though. We just live in a bus lol), I live with my ma (my dad is my step dad and he and my mom just broke up psooo ye), I blank out a lot and just stare at people for no reason (which freaks them out), I have greyish blue eyes (a long with some, I'm pretty sure permanent eye bags lol), I get energy right before nighttime mostly (and then it disappears as soon as it reaches around 11 pm to 12 am), My favorite color is maroon (and any type of blue along with orange and yellow and forest green..mostly just comfy vibe colors tbh but maroon is a fixed piece), my favorite animal is a cat (although I have a dog. Muffin doesn't count as a dog, she's practically human. Apart of the family.), and more!

(I'll update this as I go)

[I will block as I see fit]

Do not interact with my blog if: You're racist, you only or mostly have sexual themes on your own blog (I apologize but it makes me uncomfortable. Have some other interests and it might make me less uncomfortable ^^), if you in general just enjoy hating on people for no reason (I like to make my area a safe space for people) if you're a Zoophile (No explanation really needed but animals can't consent.) (more will be added later when I think of what to add)

Don't dm me unless you're a moot or you say your intentions within the first 1-3 messages. (moots that I've interacted with can send me a dm unprompted with stated intentions anytime they'd like. Special privileges ✨)

(Added a specific part of that bc a moot felt they were making me uncomfortable by having such themes on their blog. I didn't really realize at first but yes that does make slightly uncomfortable but I don't really care as long as you have other interests. If s3x is your only interest, it weirds me out to have those types of people interact with me. Just know you're all good moot, you're not the type of person I was aiming it at. There are other people that just don't think about anything else but $ex and relationships that creep me out and you are not one of them. ^^❤️)

Things about me, (random stuff): I am cringe from time to time, my fav colors are maroon and any kind of blue, orange is nice too though,

I appreciate any and all constructive criticism. IDC if it sounds rude and might hurt my feelings, TELL ME so I can help better myself and my blog! I'm dum and will most likely not notice I'm doing something weird or anything :P <3

•Send me asks! Wanna to hug one of my OCs, Want to slap the sh1t out of one of em, Want to introduce me to a new (or old) fandom I don't know of but you think I might be interested in, Want to say hi, Want to give a music suggestion, send an ask!

I LOVE interaction and if possible, I want to be busy with asks at all times so send a ton!

•Moots:

@theachskid @voidsweirdthoughts @burningbutter @rafrfr @rateater2000

@footlongdingledong @ender-the-insomniac @thistlebriar @rspoetry @virtualcroissantflapcolor

@jawdoesstuff @storythesilly @yourfavoritecuntist @chamber-of-voices @i-draw-things

@2oo7xddd @catsreblogging @silli-billy15 @totally-not-a-commie @khloethecatsworld

@1nd13gh0st @cur1os1tyk1lledme @nonbinaryriverclan @ilove-fanart-and-lore405 @hermitchild

@my-mom-named-me-duck @hermitchild

@williamsart12345 @lilytheaxoltollover @twobraincellsremaining @nn-the-doodle @emmajasonartz

@bugba-bugbee @railway323 @xho-the-scribble @asqadia-banthen @nasthesilly @ceaselessbackflips

@the-anxious-acrobat @justuravghazbin @callmekiyo24 @maybeyoullfindthissomeday

@sensehumor ♥️

+any future moots/one's I might have forgotten (I hope I wouldn't forget anyone 🥲)

If you don't like being tagged in tag games, let me know and I'll move your name over here cuz I copy paste the ones above for tagging in stuff: (nothing here yet!)

Moot side blogs: @thistlebriar-tags @my-dad-named-me-goose @mysterious-other-being @

Btw, moot/friend privileges: tagging me in whatever the heck you want, sending nonstop and possibly annoying asks, dming me and having a convo at random, +more! I love all y'all and am more than happy to interact ❤️

My art ↑

Yippee!! That's all for now folks! ❤️

I'll update this whole thing as I go, any questions, just send an ask and I'll update this with the answer as well as you know- replying in general lol :3

I seem incredibly childish in this intro post and my general posts but do know, I am over 12 years of age lmao 🤣

I'mma keep some notes here as well... mostly for tone stuffs cuz I can't remember these 😭

/lh = lighthearted

/j = joking

/hj = half joking

[trippinsorrows]

trials of love + two

authors note: friendly, gentle reminder that while drunk hookups are popular in today's culture, inebriation prohibits consent as someone cannot legally consent when intoxicated.

also.....this shit about to be messy as hell.

one

warnings: angst, inebriation, slight spice, and intoxication impairing judgment/consent

words: 3.7k

****gif credit goes to my chica @dejameflorecer

song inspo: evermore by josh groban

“She’s missing.” 

It’s the first thing Roman hears when he walks into the sanctuary. Nervous, frantic, rapid voices exchanging dialogue in hushed tones, some not so hushed. And because he’s him, it’s not difficult for Roman to catch onto what has everyone so worked up, his mother looking irritated and his father pissed. 

Not that he gives a shit about that.

He partially, however, gives a shit that she is, in fact, missing.

Solana.

His wife-to-be.

Apparently, she’s nowhere to be found on the property, an unfortunate and stressful thing for almost everyone it seems, sans one person.

She sits calmly in one of the pews, a crossword puzzle across her lap, the most relaxed expression on her face. It’s a stark contrast to the pandemonium surrounding them, which also includes Jey and Nicki on the other side of the church arguing, and Jimmy trying to get the caterers to let him “sample” the food. 

Roman shakes his head. 

Some things never change.

Strolling over to the older woman, Roman moves to sit in front of her, angling her body so he’s facing her, forearm across the top of the pew. 

She looks up, and it’s only then he realizes Solana inherited her eyes from her grandmother. 

“Roman,” she says it so formally, so casually, an introduction of sorts that’s followed by her refocusing back on the task at hand.

He chuckles. She reminds him a lot of Fetu.

They’ll either get along great, or it’s going to be clash of the fucking titans. 

“You know where she is, don’t you?” It’s not a question. Just a statement he’s waiting for her to confirm or deny.

Light brown eyes briefly dart up only to return back down under. “I know my granddaughter has always loved the ocean and often goes to the beach when she needs to think or clear her head.”

Roman offers a small smile. 

Yeah, a lot like Fetu.

“Thank you,” he says with a small nod.

She lifts her brow and shrugs once more. “I didn’t say anything.”

Roman doesn’t say anything either and manages to walk out of the chaos without anyone stopping him, not that he really cares. 

He just needs to find his bride, or rather, he’d prefer to be the one to find her for reasons he can’t quite explain or provide.

Just knows that it would make him feel better, or something, to bring her back.

Whatever that means.

He locates her exactly where her grandma “told” him she would be. On the beach, standing close enough to the tide where the water brushes against her bare feet. Her back toward him, arms crossed over her body, Roman approaches her, only inches away when she finally notices him.

Gasping, she jumps back a bit, eyes focused on him. It’s only then Roman can see it. See that she’s crying.

He frowns.

There’s something….something off about that that he doesn’t like. 

That doesn’t sit well with him.

“Roman….” Her voice is so soft and soothing, but there’s a sadness about it that also bothers him. “I’m—I’m sorry.” She wipes at her eyes and shakes her head. “I just—I wasn’t leaving. I just—”

“Solana,” he interrupts in an uncharacteristically gentle voice. “It’s fine.” Because if he wasn’t in a foreign country, he’d have probably done the same. Her…..dissatisfaction with this union is a mutually shared thing. “I know you weren’t.”

She nods, something like appreciation flashing across her pretty face. He’s briefly taken back. While marriage is the last thing Roman wants, to be married to someone like Solana isn’t a hard sell. Not only does she have the kind of body he could spend an eternity studying and worshipping, she’s absolutely breathtaking in every sense of the word.

Has a kind, caring spirit about her that's unlike anything he's used to.

But, it's something he feels like he could most definitely get used to.

Feeling himself staring, Roman motions to the ocean. He needs a distraction. “It’s beautiful.”

She follows his line of vision, smile growing. “It is.” Solana sighs, obviously taking it all in. “I’m—I’m gonna miss it.”

Roman’s expression shifts into something almost regretful.

Like, he regrets even putting her in this situation.

"Solana...." He strokes his beard, navigating how to explain himself. “For you to return back home so soon after the wedding would…..it wouldn’t be a good look.” He’s careful in the way he approaches this, a caution that’s a bit unfamiliar. Roman has never been one to choose his words carefully, unless in life or death situations. “But, after a few months pass, you can visit whenever you want.”

She turns toward him, eyes wide and hopeful. “R—really?”

Roman nods. “Yes.” 

Because while Roman can count on one hand how many family members he’d miss if separated from them for some reason, he can see that’s not the case for her. Solana seems deeply attached and close with all of her family, especially her sisters, Isabella and Zuri, connected with her home. 

And it’s that separation that she’s clearly struggling with the most, so the least he can do is provide her some assurance that being apart isn’t a forever thing.

He’d probably prefer for her to come visit more often than not. Gives him some much needed alone time. Roman has never lived with another person before as an adult. Let alone a woman. Let alone a woman who’s his wife, so that might take….an adjustment, to say the least.

He'd bet the watering of her eyes is for an entirely different reason now. “Thank you.” She sounds so grateful, so appreciative, so relieved. 

It’s hard for him to not be moved by it, even if it is completely unlike him to be move.

To feel. 

It’s uncomfortable as shit too, prompting him to clear his throat and gesture toward the opposite side of the ocean. “You ready?”

She nods, taking one last look at the water before turning to walk, clearly tripping over something in the sand. One minute, she’s about to fall, the next, Roman is in front of her, shielding said fall.

They stare at each other, her head lifted, gaze on him, hands on his chest, his on her waist, holding her up.

“S–sorry,” she apologizes in that same small voice, but for some reason, he can only focus on the aroma of her sweet perfume, the feel of her body so close to his, the alluring hue of her pretty brown eyes.

“It’s fine,” he says, distractedly. He’s still staring at her the same way she’s staring at him. One of them, he doesn't know who, finally breaks it, moving so that they can walk off.  He’s also unsure just who reaches for whose hand. Just knows that their hands are interlocked as they walk away from the present and prepare to head into the future.

Their future. 

-----------

Solana has always been a dreamer. Always lived with her “head in the clouds.” Something told to her from practically every family member, starting with her abuela, all the way to her adorable five year-old niece, Sophia. 

It’s something she’s never really denied, either. She knows she’s always been one to hope and aspire for the most, the best, even when told it might never happen. But, it’s never bothered her. Not really. Not when her life has always been filled with so much love, happiness, and fulfillment.

A wonderful family. Great friends. The honor of taking over her abuela’s bakery. An establishment that’s been in her family for generations.

The only thing missing has been love. 

Not familial. Not platonic. Romantic.

She’s dated, had relationships, and all of the above. And nothing ever moved her, ever left her feel the beautiful love she’s always witnessed with her parents. And her oldest sister, Zuri, has always advised her that her expectations are too high, too aligned with “Disney shit." Isabella has always told her to never settle. Her parents have always said she’ll know when she’s found the one. And Solana has always taken a bit of all of their advice, never once giving up her dream of finding “true love.” Of finding the man who would, maybe even literally, swipe her off her feet. 

The dreamlike courting, romantic proposal, perfect wedding, intimate wedding night where she’d finally lose her virginity to the man who’d one day be the father of her children. The perfect ending to a wonderful life.

A fucking lie.

Solana stares at her reflection in the bathroom mirror, a reflection she once appreciated, maybe not always loved, but liked well enough. Now though, now, she doesn’t even recognize what she sees. Who she sees.

She’s always been happy and joyful, but there’s nothing happy about the puffiness and redness around her eyes. The way her lips are in a permanent frown that’s been present for the past few days. She looks every bit as sad and miserable as she feels.

And, it’s all because of one man. 

Roman Reigns.

Her husband.

The man she hates more than she’s ever hated anyone before in her life.

She’d never heard anything nice about him, heard that he was a heartless bastard. But, in meeting him shortly before their wedding, in interacting with him on a few occasions, he’d been…..okay. Not overtly nice but nothing like the asshole he’s been since….since that night.

The night…..

Solana sniffles, feeling and seeing the watering of her eyes. That’s got her more fucked up than anything else. She always dreamed her wedding night, her first time, would be a beautiful thing. And, it was. Roman was…...he was kind to her, gentle with her, good to her.

And, then she woke up.

Because everything since that night has been nothing short of a nightmare.

Roman isn’t her knight in shining armor. 

He’s the demon in her dreams.

A demon she can’t escape.

Dulce’s quiet snoring in her room, a random room she’s commandeered and made her own, moving all of her stuff into it from Roman’s the second day of his MIA episode. Solana smiles. Seeing and having her sweet dog with her was definitely something she could have never guessed happening.

Could have never anticipated waking up and finding her baby girl in a crate being held by Roman's Wise Man, Dulce nearly losing her shit, same with Solana, in seeing her mother for the first time in too long.

Solana can still recall the physical pain she felt when she was informed Roman doesn't like pets, and that she had to leave Dulce home in Mexico with her family. It practically killed her. Made this whole thing so much worse. 

Dulce, a tiny little thing, is hands down Solana’s best friend. They’ve been connected since the moment Solana held the Pomeranian four years prior. She’s been there for her during the best and worst of times, so not having her for, inarguably, the worst thing she’s ever been through in life has been torture. 

Truth be told, Solana hasn’t the slightest clue why Roman changed his mind, what made him make arrangements to have Dulce brought to her, and while she’s beyond grateful to have at least someone in that house, she couldn’t bring herself to thank him.

For what?

What has he done to deserve thanks? Letting her have her pet is only a common decency. The latter word being something foreign to him, clearly.

Because Roman is every bit the bastard she heard about. She only wishes she wasn’t stupid enough before to believe he could be anything different. 

But, she’s learned her lesson.

Learned to heed to his words.

This isn’t a real marriage. It doesn't mean anything to him. She doesn’t mean anything to him. 

So, he doesn't mean anything to her.

And, he never will. 

He isn’t home, but that’s not surprising. He’s never home. Her now preference.

As much space away from him that she can manage is for the best. 

Not to mention, it allows her to prepare for her night without his intrusions or thoughts of how he’d respond or even feel. A stupid thing, really. Especially considering he made it painfully clear that he doesn’t care what or who she does. 

Bet.

Solana takes the red lipstick, applying it to her lips, the last and final step of a makeup routine that took much longer than what was probably necessary. But, the end product seems worth it. Dark, sultry eyes, highlighted and blushed cheeks, with blood red lipstick to match her red dress that shows more of her breast than most of her bikini tops. Her ass is only one bend away from being exposed, the body of it nice and tight, hugging all her generous curves.. It’s a look she’d not even wear in her dreams, far too risque and revealing, but it’s exactly what she’s wearing tonight. 

Because she just doesn’t care anymore. 

If Roman can do whatever he wants, then so can she. 

Spraying perfume on her pulse points and on her dress, Solana takes a final look at herself in the mirror before hitting the lights and grabbing her small Gucci bag off the counter. 

Walking in heels has always been a bit difficult for her, but the heels complete the look, so it’s one of many sacrifices she’s willing to make tonight. 

Solana cuddles with Dulce for a few minutes, making sure she’s straight and instructing the security that patrol the house to check on her baby every so often.

She’s not certain she’ll make it home tonight.

And speaking of home, Solana turns the hall and meets Dre’s always watchful gaze. She doesn’t miss the way he gives her a double take. The same way she gives him one.

Her head of security isn’t ugly by any means. Tall with a nice, lean but muscular build, pretty light eyes and almost model-like facial features. He looks more like the type to be in Vogue versus being assigned the head of her security detail. On the quiet side, too, only having only said a few words to her.

But, the way he’s looking at her now suggests she might be able to evoke a couple more words out of him. At least, for tonight.

“I want to go out,” she informs, crossing her arms over her body.  “A nightclub. Whatever is most popular in this town.”

Dre lifts a brow. “Mrs. Reigns—”

“Solana,” she corrects. “My name is Solana.” 

“Solana.” There’s almost something suggestive about the way he says it. A way she both likes and dislikes. “I’m not sure if that’s a good idea.” Solana scowls, already knowing she’s not going to like what he says. “With The Tribal Chief being out of town—”

“I said—” Solana steps forward, head tilted, again not missing how Dre’s eyes drop to her chest. “I want to go out.” Mustering a small smile and batted eyelashes, she tilts her head and innocently places her hands on his chest. “Now, let’s go.”

—--------

It’s all so loud and borderline suffocating. The music booms, the people move and grind together with a familiarity that contrasts the fact that most of them only met just this night. A situation she too, ironically, finds herself in, because Solana hasn’t the slightest clue who she’s dancing with. Just knows that he’s only a couple inches taller than her, even in her heels, and he can’t seem to keep his hands off her ass.

And if not for the liquor coursing through her body, it’s something she’d be uncomfortable with. She partially is but not enough to stop, to tell him to leave her alone. This is what she needs. To let loose, to not give a fuck. 

To be less like herself and more like him.

Because being Solana, being kind and sweet and understanding, got her nowhere but broken heart city, and she’s tired of feeling so hurt and broken. She needs to feel something, anything else, and this is the perfect way. 

The song comes to an end, random man whispering something in her ear about being right back. She jumps when he squeezes her ass and slithers away. Solana feels a bit silly just standing there, so she makes her way back over to the bar.

A small, inebriated smile on her face, she’s pleased to see the same bartender. 

“Another shot, p–please.”

The woman, tall and dark in every aspect outside of her almost pale complexion, with tattoos covering her body gives her an almost hesitant look. “You sure about that, babe? You’ve had quite a bit to drink already.”

Solana rolls her eyes. “I’m not a child." Gesturing to her outfit, her nipples milliseconds from popping out, prompting her to adjust her top, she repeats her request. “A shot, please.”

Striking blue eyes gleam with continued reticence as the tall woman turns away to fulfil the order. 

Solana leans back against the bar, closing her eyes and taking in the environment. She feels so free, so liberated from the shackles of hurt, pain, and betrayal that have consumed her since she was ripped away from her home and life and everything she loves only to be dumped into this shitshow of a storm.

It’s unfair. All of it, but she’s done letting it drown her.

She can’t.

“Well damn.” Her head snaps up to the sound of the voice that’s much closer than what’s necessary. “You sure look like you know how to have a good time.”

Solana studies the man before her, his complexion a few shades darker than her own. His brown eyes are warm but intense and contrast his short, onyx hair and thick brows that have cutouts on the end. His build is more on the stocky side but still muscular.

A small smile falls on her face. “Something like that.” Taking him in one time, she offers her name. “I’m Solana.”

“Zilla,” he answers with a confident smirk. “You not from around here.”

She nods, recognizing it’s more of a statement than anything. “I’m….new to town.”

Unfortunately.

He makes a sound, eyes focusing on her breast. “Lucky us, huh?”

Giggling, she teases, largely fueled by the liquor, “maybe.”

“Zilla.” Another voice sounds, not as deep, but still smooth. Accented. Solana turns to see another man with a similar complexion, lithe yet muscular build and almost angular features. He's older than the shorter man, clearly. Not that that really matters to her.

His gaze quickly settles on her, revealing a gleam of lust. “Who is this?”

“S–solana,” she answers matter-of-factly. “W–who are you?”

He smirks. “Tama.”

Solana snorts and rolls her eyes. “I—interesting.” It’s not missed on her how the both of them continue to focus on everything but her face, namely her chest. “Let’s just s–skip to the good part boys, why don’t we?” They both look curious as she asks with batted eyelashes. “Let’s get out of here.”

It’s a statement that, in actuality, surprises all three of them. Solana knows what she’s saying, knows what she’s asking, but there’s still something about it that feels….non-autonomous. Like she’s in control, but she’s not actually in control. 

Something she should probably think more about, but thinking and feeling have done her no good these past few weeks, so fuck it.

“Which one of us?” Zilla is the one to ask, licking his lips, hand reaching out and brushing his fingers over her forearm. Tama remains watchful and attentive but keeping his hands to himself.

For now.

And with a wry smile, glazed eyes, and fiery, drunken determination, she answers boldly, “both.”

—--------

Solana moans at the set of lips that suck on her neck and the set of hands—she’s not sure whose—that squeeze at her breast.

Lips parted, eyes closed, she’s fully immersed in this moment, solely focused on the hands that touch and grab all over her body.

“Shit,” she hisses when someone moves their hand in between her thighs, nudging them open and feeling at her thong.

Zilla smirks and teases his finger in a circle against the inside of her thigh. “That pussy nice and wet for us already, man.”

Tama makes a sound, moving his hand to Solana’s hair, yanking her head back and forcing her eyes open. “You’re a good,submissive little bitch, aren’t you?”

There’s something both erotic and disrespectful about it, about his statement, about his delivery, about the way he tightens his grip in her hair. But, she doesn’t care, she’s too caught in the moment, too consumed by the alcohol. 

“Take that shit off her,” Zilla directs Tama, the older man easily guiding her onto her knees on the bed. His hands go to the bottom of her dress, pulling it up and off her, leaving her in just a thong.

Something strange washes over her, Solana naturally moving her hands across her chest, suddenly feeling a sense of unease and discomfort. Like something is…..off. 

Like she shouldn’t have told Dre to mind his business and wait outside in the SUV as she prepares to engage in the unthinkable. 

“Wait…..” She murmurs, maybe to them, maybe to herself. She’s not entirely sure. 

Tama, however, ushers her arms down and guides her to lay down. Solana readies to protest again when he latches his mouth onto her nipple, evoking a moan from her, the pleasure easily overpowering the logic. 

Her hand moves to the back of his short hair, her body writhing underneath him as he slides his hand down her belly and slips it into her thong. She whimpers when he teases his fingers against her wet, velvety opening.

“Goddamn, you got some big ass titties,” Zilla makes a sound from where he stands at the foot of the bed, Solana briefly opening her eyes to see he’s messing with something, something she can’t seem to make out, just that he’s situating it on the dresser in front of the bed. A perfect view of what’s about to transpire. 

For a second, the slightest second, she’s reluctant.

“What—what are you doing?” Furrowed brows as Tama sits up and also goes to remove his shirt, Solana leaning up on her elbows. 

“Nothing, baby,” Zilla answers, standing directly in front of her. He goes to undo his belt when he pauses to look at her, asking, “you sure you wanna do this?”

Solana stills, noticing how Tama is also looking at her with an expectant expression.

No. She’s not sure, but yet she is. She wants to, but she’s also nervous. She’s only had sex once, but it’s that one time, albeit amazing and wonderful, that led to this emotional spiral she’s been on. It’s what led her to stepping away from the good, innocent path she’s always been on and entered her onto whatever this is. 

So, not, she’s absolutely not sure.

But, what she is sure of is that she’s tired of crying all the time, tired of thinking of Roman, of trying to figure out how he went from being almost kind to her to basically telling her she means nothing to him. That the night they spent together, her first time, him taking her virginity, something she always imagined giving to the one, meant nothing. 

Roman can’t be her one and only anymore. 

Especially when she was never and will never be his. 

Solana moves her fingers to her thong, sliding them down and off her body, laying on the bed and giggling while throwing them toward the two men.

“Let’s do it.”

[sunflowersteves]

i'm not cute || m.o.

pairing || miguel o'hara x fem!reader

summary || Miguel always loved when you played with his hair.

author's notes || this is my first miguel fic and im v excited!! there will be much more to come <3 also, my spanish is v v v limited and i tried following what ppl were saying in the miguel tag but please let me know if I need to fix anything!!

warnings || none, fluff, it's tooth-rotting

“Did you just braid my hair?”

You paused—froze even. Your hands stilled in between his luscious, soft hair, and it took every ounce inside of you to not continue to feel through each strand of his. 

“Uh, no?” It was bashful. 

You inwardly winced at the extremely unconvincing tone of your voice. You couldn’t see, but his lips curled into the smallest of smiles. His spidey-DNA, as you liked to call it, sensed the heat that radiated off of your body. 

After an unsuccessful mission, Miguel came home in a state of ire. His eyebrows were furrowed, anger rolling off of his body in waves as his chest heaved up and down. But as soon as your hand placed itself across the plains of his chest and soothed the fabric of his suit, everything started to dissipate. 

The anger, the grief, the guilt—everything. 

You gently pulled his wrist, and he blindly followed you into the living room of your makeshift apartment he built in Nueva York. You sat right above him on the couch, brush in your hand as you stroked through each strand of hair. His frame practically barrelled over you, despite him sitting on the ground with his back to the legs of the couch.

 In return, he wanted to desperately turn around and press light kisses into your skin, but he refrained. He knew that all you wanted to do was comfort his tense muscles. 

“That didn’t sound very convincing.”

You bite your lip, sheepishly, as you ignored his comment and started to braid another part of his hair. You very carefully twisted the fluffy soft hair between one another and grinned at the What he didn’t have to know wouldn’t hurt him, right? Well, apparently, you were wrong because once you tugged on his hair, yet again, and he practically jumps. 

“¡Ay!” He yelps and turns his head to look at you, “¿Qué mierda haces?” 

Your eyes widened, “Miggy! Oh—I’m so sorry!” You go to reach for his head again in an attempt to soothe the pain that you caused, but he caught your wrist. 

If you weren’t too concerned about tugging on his hair, you would have noticed the slight change in his lips that turned into a sly smirk. “Cariño,” He warned. His voice was gravelly and rough—the sound sending shivers down your spine. “¿Qué voy a hacer contigo?” 

In one motion, he’s hovering over you. “Hmm?”

Your mouth opens in surprise—the spark in your heartbeat not going unnoticed by the man before you. “I–I just, Miguel—” You were starting to get nervous under his gaze—just like you always do.

Pure adoration flashed between his ruby eyes, and his finger gently rubbed against the side of your cheek. It was so gentle and affectionate that it almost created tears against your waterline. He loved when you got nervous and playful—it always struck against his chest and seized him whole. He wanted to see the effect that he had on you in every waking moment, it seemed. 

He smiled. “You’re cute.”

You gasped, attempting to turn the tables around and flip him over. “I am not cute!” Alas, you were unsuccessful. 

He laughed. It was hearty and pretty against your ears. “You’re right. You’re the cutest.”

You grumbled under your breath, and it took every ounce of control not to kiss the puffing of your cheeks. “Whatever, you’re the cutest. Not me.” 

Miguel smiled—teeth showing and entirely genuine as he took in your playful expression and fingers that twisted the short hair against the base of his neck. 

“I’ll eventually make you admit it, mi alma. Don't you worry."

~~

¿Qué mierda haces? - What the fuck are you doing?

Cariño - Honey

¿Qué voy a hacer contigo? - What am i going to do with you?

Mi alma - my soul

[starkspondwater]

Wanted- Kenny McCormick x Reader

Summary: It's Kenny's turn to play 7 minutes in heaven...though it doesn't pan out the way it normally would. Something tells you that you could easily turn the night around for him, you just might have to be bold.

Warnings: Smut, giving and (kind of) receiving head

a/n: I'm trying to get more into writing smut- still makes me feel silly every time I write but practice makes perfect! Kenny might be OOC but I kind of wanted kicked puppy Ken to make an appearance!

Spanish translation by @glitterycollectivestudent here on wattpad

A semester away from South Park was…odd, you decided. You had been desperate for the opportunity to grow and stretch your legs from the confines of home but a part of your heart ached for your small and humble town. One big aspect you missed was how social you could be there, how you knew everyone and what was going on. In a bigger place it was just a little difficult to make friends, social calendars never lined up, and homework kept you inside.

When you received a text invitation for a party at Tolkien's over break, you happily accepted.

Being away for even a short time had you missing the familiar streets and views. Apparently, you were missed as well if the tight hug Heidi trapped you in was any indication.

“Oh my god, I’m so happy you’re back!” She let go to look at you, showing off those dimples you suddenly realized you had dearly missed. “I told everyone you were coming and let’s just say you’re practically the guest of honor!”

“I don’t need anyone making a huge fuss! I wasn’t even the only one that went away for school.”

“Psh, you’re the only one out of state! We still see Wendy and Kyle since they're only in Denver. You basically dropped off the face of the planet, Y/N.” Heidi quirked an eyebrow at you.

“Huh…hadn’t thought of it like that…” shaking off the guilt that began to rise, you changed the subject. “So how is everyone?”

If there was one thing to know about Heidi, it is that she never left any details out. As she went in on what everyone had been doing, the two of you got ready for the evening.

“...and Kenny is still at the autoshop with Kevin. Of course he’ll be there tonight too.”

At the mention of Kenny you felt excited. In highschool he was no doubt the biggest flirt, and a fun one at that. You lost count of how many times he had made you laugh out loud in class, much to the teacher’s irritation. It also didn’t hurt that you had the smallest of crushes on the boy. Well…maybe you were a little obsessed with him back then.

He was cute with those baby blues of his, it was a shame he didn’t have much success with all that flirting he did. Being one of the poorest in town, many of the girls thought being with him would be a downgrade, something you always thought was such bullshit. While he never had seriously asked you out, it still made your blood boil to see how the other girls in class had talked about him. Thankfully though, it never seemed to bother him. He kept his easy going grin and kept on being himself, all while you always sat not so far away hoping he’d notice just how into him you were instead.

You couldn’t help the slight flutter you felt at the possibility of seeing him tonight.

The party was in full swing as you pulled up, music pumping and practically rattling the windows. Inside was much louder and you quickly found yourself lost in the groove of things, warm bodies surrounding you on all sides.

Every old face you saw brought you surprise and joy, friendly hugs coming fairly often as you danced your way around the room. It was surprising how much everyone seemed to change, how good everyone looked. Part of you hoped that they saw you the same way too.

“Y/N! They have games!” Heidi slurred, pulling you along the throngs of people. You hadn’t been here long and already the poor girl was sloshed.

In another room sat a number of old friends and new faces, all organized in a mess of a circle around a bottle. Carefully placing yourself down, you made eye contact with the one person you really wanted to see tonight.

Kenny McCormick had grown even cuter in the time you had been away. His hair, always shaggy, had grown into a bit of mullet that somehow worked for him. A flash of metal told you he had also acquired a new lip ring, drawing special attention to that mouth of his. Who were you kidding- he wasn’t cute, he was hot.

There was one thing that seemed to remain completely the same- those mischief filled blue eyes.

It had been his turn to spin the bottle, a small flick sending it round and round. In no time at all it landed on a pretty blonde girl off to your left, a girl you hadn’t seen before. Something in you ached as you watched a large grin grow on Kenny’s face, showing off the missing canine he lost back in junior year. To your surprise, the girl looked disappointed, pouting at her friend next to her.

“Can we re-spin?” Her voice whined, causing a few around them to laugh.

“See Kinny! I told you no one wanted your poor ass to play!” Cartman snickered. You hadn’t yet noticed the rotund boy off to the side, a few empty beer cans littering the table next to him.

You expected Kenny to flip the bird and laugh, maybe give another dig back to Cartman as he had always done. Instead, you felt your heart sink as you watched him pick himself off the floor and walk off.

Without thinking you hopped up as well to follow, only a few beats behind him. He had only just made his way up the stairs when you caught his sleeve, the touch making him jump a bit.

“Hey…” you breathed, finally face to face with him after months away. You weren’t really sure what you planned on doing or saying, but the look on his face when he turned broke you. This was not the Kenny you remembered.

“Hey uh…long time no see,” the smirk Kenny gave came out more like a grimace. “I just…didn’t feel like playing anymore, y’know?”

“Yeah…I just thought what she said was kind of rude. Same with Cartman though he’s always been an ass.”

“But nothing said was untrue.” Shoving his hands into his pockets Kenny shifted a little, curling in on himself slightly. “I mean, I’m poor. That’s kind of a fact around here or didja forget?”

“Okay? Most of those assholes are poor now too. We all have student loans.” Crossing your arms you gave the blond in front of you a look. He hesitated a bit, like he was trying to figure out what exactly you were trying to do.

“...I smell bad. I have missing teeth, my hair is greasy, I can’t even afford to take anyone on an actual date and-” As Kenny started listing things off rapid fire, you pulled him into a nearby closet. Fumbling, you found the light switch, now covering you both in a dim light.

“W-what are you doing?” Kenny, for the first time since you’ve known him, looked nervous.

“Showing you that everything you just said was bullshit.” You had always wondered what it would be like to have his full attention, not just the small amount of flirting he’d do in school. Now that you had it, you weren’t going to blow it.

Gently, you placed your hands on his shoulders, bringing him closer. At this distance you could feel the body heat radiating off of him in waves along with something else.

“As far as I can tell, you don’t smell,” Kenny had a bit of a natural scent to him, not really ‘clean’ but something more manly…something you felt was actually quite intoxicating. “The missing tooth, for your information, actually looks pretty fucking attractive when you smile.”

Reaching up one hand you ran it though his shaggy locks, bringing his head incrementally closer to yours. “Your hair does not feel greasy, and honestly Kenny…I don’t give a shit about what you can and can’t afford.”

Hungry lips met your own, lip ring sliding deliciously along your mouth. Those hands that you had once fantasized about were now gripping your hips hard. You recalled Heidi mentioning his line of work and had the thought how strong those hands must really be.

Kenny’s lips moved to your neck, open mouthed kisses peppered in such a way that every spot he found was a sensitive one. You couldn’t help the sounds you made as he left marks along your jaw. 

“You have no idea how much I’ve wanted this. I had it so fucking bad for you in school.” his voice rumbled against your throat.

“Are you fucking kidding me? “ You barked a laugh, making him momentarily stop. “You mean we could’ve been doing this all along?” 

With a wicked grin Kenny sunk down to his knees, hands quickly working at bunching up your skirt.

“Could’ve been doing more than just kissin’, doll.” The vibration of his mouth on your clothed cunt made you jolt. 

You felt dizzy with your hands gripping his hair, your mind going pleasantly blank due to the heat of his mouth. You were definitely soaked, and even through the panties you had on he seemed to love the taste, humming in pleasure with every kiss. Suddenly, a thought occurred to you- Didn’t you follow him up here to make him feel better?

“Kenny…Ken, stop a second,” your voice felt far away to your own ears as you spoke, gaining Kenny's attention. He hesitantly stopped, giving you a look of confusion and hurt. 

“As much as I really want to continue this,” and oh god how you wanted to with his pretty face looking up at you like that. “I was hoping to make you feel good…Can I?”

Kenny seemed to take a minute to understand what you were actually saying, but when it clicked his eyes went wide.

“Really? Like, you’re sure you want to do that? With me?” He sounded surprised. As you slowly dragged him back to his feet, he appeared anxious.

Popping open the front button of his jeans, you lowered yourself down to the floor. Kenny, thinking quick, pulled down one of the coats hanging up and gave it to you. You felt yourself flush with how thoughtful he was as you placed the coat under your knees. Sliding down the zipper, you tugged his pants down leaving Kenny in his boxers, now tight front he bulge he was sporting.

Hooking a finger into the waistband, you freed it, his cock bouncing up and nearly smacking you in the face. You weren’t sure what you expected, but it was fairly impressive and long with a leaky pink tip.

Stroking a few times, Kenny’s knees buckled and a low moan dropped from his lips. Giving a sly smile, you took a couple long licks down his length before taking him into your mouth.

“Ah-shit. Ungh!” you could feel the slight buck of his hips as you bobbed your head, the velvet of his skin sliding between your lips. The sounds he made went straight to your belly, making you feel impossibly warm.

Kenny did not want to take his eyes off of you. Seeing you gazing up at him with those eyes, soft lips wrapped around him so prettily, made him feel like he was coming undone.

“God, you feel s-so good,” he tried to keep from thrusting forward, not wanting to make you uncomfortable. He only hoped you hadn’t noticed how he was holding back, how much he really wanted to touch you.

You did notice, and wanted to change that.

Backing out with ‘pop’ you grabbed both of Kenny’s hands, tangling them into your hair. Taking the head of his cock back into your mouth you peered up at the blond and waited.

I-uh…are you sure?” his voice was ragged as he stared down. With a glint in your eyes and the smallest of nods, he got the permission he so desperately needed.

Thrusting in he heard a gag, your throat squeezing him in just the right way that he couldn’t stop. He couldn’t stop pumping into you and he couldn’t stop the sounds that were leaving him. 

“Fuck! Take it all, yeah- oh goddamn~” He was losing himself in the sensation of fucking your face, something he had only dreamed about in his younger years when all he had was extra time and his fist.

Looking down he nearly came at the sight. Your tear filled eyes stayed trained on him, but had drooped a little, saliva and precum messily covering your chin and around your mouth.

What really got to him was the small amount of movement going on under you. While he had been blissed out of his mind you had slid your hand under your skirt and was rubbing yourself.

The picture in front of him had him thrusting faster, no longer consistent as he got closer and closer. After a few more thrusts he felt his balls begin to tighten.

“Babe, I’m- fuck!- I’m gonna cum.” He slowed, not wanting to assume anything you might’ve wanted. Feeling the change, you brought an encouraging hand up to his thigh, urging him to keep his pace.

Three more pumps and he spilled into your mouth and down your throat. As you felt the warm spurts leave him you swallowed, making him groan.

Gradually, his grip on your hair loosened as he caught his breath. Tucking himself back into his pants he kneeled to your level, looking tired and apprehensive.

“Was that alright?” The question had you laughing.

“Of course? I dragged you in here for this, why wouldn’t it be alright?” Your laughter stopped at the look on his face, so similar to the one he had before all this happened. Sighing, but still smiling at him, you said “I’ll have you know I wanted this, Ken. I wanted you.”

At that statement Kenny couldn’t help but grin, gingerly taking your hands in his. Huffing out an awkward chuckle, he gave your hands a squeeze. 

“Hell of a way to kick things off, huh?”

“Yeah, but not in a bad way…” After a moment you started to rise, bringing Kenny up with you.

It was apparent to anyone there that something had transpired between the two of you. Rumpled clothing and mussed up hair telling enough of the story, but there was something in the way Kenny looked at you with such an easy smile, or how you kept linking fingers, never straying too far to even talk to others. It was a shift anyone could see, Heidi even giving you a wink when she met your gaze later that night.

It was as the two of you walked out that you felt you had to ask him.

“Was that like your first blowjob or something?” Kenny laughed, knocking his arm into yours.

“Shut up! I’ve had one before, it’s just never been…like that.” Bursting into giggles yourself, Kenny looked at you in befuddlement.

“I forgot all about Tammy Warner!” Wheezing, you clutched his arm and gave a teasing smile. “Was it better than that at least.”

….

“Jesus Christ, much better.”

[theurgists]

⋆｡‧₊°♱༺ SINNED SOIL ༻♱༉‧₊˚.

astarion ancunin x gn!reader

summary: after a restless night, astarion finds himself seeking comfort. your tent is where he finds it.

warnings: some angst?? a little fluff, not proof-read

a/n: this is my first one-shot for bg3, and i'm lowkey excited?? not as familiar with the game as i'd like to be ( on my first unfinished playthrough ) so bare with me

There’s a nagging in the crevices of the fluid that occupies Astarion’s skull; aside from the tadpole wriggling about - making home directly in his frontal lobe. He tightens his jaw, grinding his teeth together so harshly that he could feel his spine reverberate in the process; a small pinch near his salivary gland. 

This is a recurrence- something he hates dearly with his non-existent soul; thinking. Even though his heart no longer thrummed in his chest, the air was long gone from his lungs, and cold permanently tainting his body, he still had his thoughts.

More often than not, that bothered him severely. No, it tortured him as he lay mindlessly blinking in the darkness of his tent, arms pin-straight by his side, lips pressed together to keep from wobbling slightly. 

He supposes he could cry, albeit having to be silent about it. Astarion’s done it before; in the musky abyss in one of Cazador’s many dungeons underneath his luxurious castle of torment, but it’s difficult tonight. Clenching his left fist, he felt the blood drain from his knuckles as the even ridges of his fingernails indent his frigid palm, the muscle of his tongue darting out between his teeth to graze over chapped lips.

Through the silence that seemed to suffocate him slowly, his pointy ears perked at the constant chirping of crickets and the crackling of the firewood a few feet away from his bedroll. Astarion was coming to realize that those sounds sounded oddly serene; nature. The grass, the moon, the sun. Oh, how warm it had felt on his marble skin. A nice low heat to the teeth-chattering ice that sat dormant in his veins. He could practically bathe in it, arms outstretched toward the big ball of fire in the sky, trickles of light seeping through his pores, heating every fiber of his being.

It basked his figure in a glow so bright and fuzzy that Astarion swore his dead heart actually skipped quite a few beats, a low buzz in his sternum. He cherished it.

It was something he would never utter aloud, his sharp tongue suddenly dulling when he felt his gaze soften during interactions, a subtle but noticeable change in his mood he always tries to mask with his cracking facade. Vulnerability did not look good on him as much as his prized tunics did.

Letting a sigh seep out into the chilled night air through glossy, spit-covered teeth, Astarion shuffled within the comfort of his bedroll, his bones cracking slightly as he rose to his knees slowly. Blinking back the burn developing in his sockets, he lifted an index finger to wipe at his hooded lids, sharp canines puncturing a pillowed bottom lip. 

Secretly, he hoped that no one would be able to tell how stressful he’s been lately, especially you. You could always read people like an open book; a story laid bare before you - cut and dry and easy to decipher. It didn’t take much for you to come to simple conclusions in dire situations of need. Everyone else in your small group could attest to that with blind faith.

That was something that made the pale elf roll his eyes in slight distaste, as if your actions were something that inconvenienced him severely, as if everything you said was something he was supposed to agree with. But, you weren’t like that.

Astarion figured that out under the glow of the moonlight, hidden by thick tree branches and surrounded by the overwhelming smell of dewed grass merely a month ago, back when his attempts to bed you were more than apparent. His brows had furrowed in confusion then, a small pang in his chest as if the knife lodged within the tissue of his heart was dipped in poison. He was confused. For the first time in a while the elf was confused as to why you didn’t take him as you saw fit that night. 

Closing his eyes, Astarion took a wasteful breath, feeling as if it was needed in the moment as his lashes brushed against the blotches of watercolor black, blue and purple that adorned his under eyes, hand reached out to swat away the flap of his tent soon after.

Crimson eyes darted to look through the treelines, a sense of alert flooding through his body as leaves rubbed together, sounding like crumpled parchment as he averted his gaze to Karlach’s back, her nightwear frumpled as she hunched over, sharpening one of the many weapons laid out on the soil next to her; dirty and dull. 

Shuffling past her as quietly as he could, Astarion blew air from between his lips in hopes of adjusting the snowy white coil of hair that blocked his vision, making his way to your tent. A certain hunger arose in him when his pointed ears picked up the sound of your blood flowing through thick veins, sweet like the rolls you’d occasionally bring to the camp from a nearby trader if they had a few.

His throat is dry, the thirst for your blood creeping up on him just like the soft spot for you had after you had confided in him after accidentally bearing witness to the angry scars that littered the expanse of his back, a constant itch to follow the raised skin. He knew you wouldn’t refuse his request to drink from you, having let him sink his teeth into the pulse point of your neck multiple times to keep his hunger at bay. 

Nocturnal animals didn’t satiate his cravings as much as your essence did. It was a pull stronger than he ever thought possible, even if his belly was full - he was not, not until he had your sweet, sweet blood pooling at the tip of his tongue. Instinctively, his upper lip curled, teeth bared before he swiped the muscle of his tongue over them, swallowing the sandpaper that covered his esophagus. 

“‘Starion?” Your small whisper carried in the wind, straight to his ears. 

Within the thin fabric of your tent, he could hear you shuffling about before your head peaked out from the open flap, eyes still ridden with sleep looking up at his towering frame through long lashes. “What are you doing?”

“Restless night.” 

At that, your brows furrowed, warm, clammy palm cupping his; an invitation inside your private space which he accepted without another word.

In the darkness, he could make out the array of worn out pillows covering every inch of the small space, alongside a couple of different items from past journeys and small trinkets that reminded you of your childhood; innocence lost. He figured it was something you were trying to gain back - a sense of control over your dysfunctional life.

Crouching down, his knees ached slightly, palms flat against the ground before making himself as comfortable as he possibly could given thoughts plaguing his mind. With narrowed eyes, he watched as you spun on your bottom to face him, knees knocking with his as you pressed your lips together thinly. 

“I must admit I'm struggling to find peace tonight as well.” Mumbling, your hand raised to smooth over the goosebumps that had found their way to the surface of your arms, raising every individual hair. “Dreams become much too vivid to me now.”

Leaning as far back into the pile of pillows as he could, he could see your eyes, glossy and wide as they locked onto his. “Do tell, darling.” 

His tone is slightly playful, a small inch of concern weaved between his words as his spine stiffened from his position. 

Huffing, your shoulders lifted in a small shrug before falling back into place, ears growing hot from the embarrassment oozing through your pores. You weren’t one to confide in others about your state of distress, especially to those who you deem untrustworthy. 

This was merely a Freudian slip, a loose tongue, but you continued despite everything in you telling you to sew your lips closed with thick thread. 

“There was this… looming sense of dread in my dreams. I was in a field of tall grass, it reminded me of this meadow my father used to take me to when I was ten and one.” Your voice trailed, the scenery of a multitude of flowers and lucious, bright green grass appearing in the forefront of your mind. “I can still smell the manure of the nearby pigpens, but everything was just so bleak. I’m sure I was alone, and even though I somehow knew it wasn’t real, everything else felt like it was. There was a red rose sitting in a bed of white ones, almost as if it was being cushioned just for me.” He could hear the smile in your words, although from the tone of your voice, he could tell that it wasn’t a genuine one. 

“I reached out toward it, and then felt a slight pinch almost as if something poked me.” rubbing the pads of your thumb and index finger together, you stared at them, expecting a trickle of dotted blood to seep from the barely visible wound you had received in the meadow in the crevices of your mind. “It was a thorn, a big one at that. That’s when I woke up, and then I saw your shadow outside…”

The pause that followed was one of comfort, a way for you to know that the vampire before you was listening, grasping onto each word uttered through chapped lips, your warm breath on his face.

Astarion gnawed on his bottom lip gently, careful of his two sharper teeth as his gaze never left your troubled face, a twinge of empathy. “I have those dreams sometimes too. When I let my eyes drift shut, there’s a sort of vulnerability that follows; renders me defenseless.” 

You nodded in the darkness, grasping onto the words that he forced out of his throat like bile, unwanted and already digested. Astarion was a secretive person, for many reasons that were acceptable, drenched in endless pain and suffering. “My skin still burns. It’s all so fresh.” 

Scooting beside him, you cautiously took notice of the way he curled into himself, knees now tucked into his chest as he raised a hand toward his back, sliding it under his shirt to let his fingers ghost over the scars on his back. The muscles in his face contort, a pained expression painting his face, no developing laughter lines, no crows feet at the corners of his eyes. He was forever a little star; his name a memory of a past he can’t recall.

“He can no longer touch you.” You stated firmly, each word spat with venom. It was true as far as you were concerned. You’d never lie to Astarion. You’d never lie to any of your friends about the impending death that loomed over them, the blood that would be on their hands in the following weeks as you continue your trek to Baldur’s Gate. 

“You’d think after being a slave for nearly three centuries that I'd bask in the glory that freedom has to offer me.” A curt, bitter laugh escapes his lips as he throws his hands in the air, “But I-I can’t, and I have no idea why.” 

Twisting your neck just a couple of inches, you stared at the side of his face, bottom lip tucked between your teeth. 

Astarion could hear how loudly your heart thumped in the solace of your ribcage, the blood flowing through your veins, the quiet hum of your throat as you swallowed. And for once - he wills himself to think about life without his affliction, even if just for a second before he could no longer stand to see himself so meek and small, so… helpless.

“It’s the fear he instilled within you. He tormented you your entire existence and it’s not something you can let go of so easily, I un-”

“Please don’t tell me you understand.” His words were nothing above a whisper as he leaned closer, the material of his sleep shirt rubbing against yours before you felt the chill of his skin on your upper arm. 

In those rare moments of genuine words exchanged between the both of you in the safety of each other's company, you had never seen him so fearful. Fearful of becoming a slave for the desires and sexual needs of others  once more, hands forever touching bodies he’d force himself to forget, washing the dirt and grime off of every crevice of himself with tears in his eyes and silent sobs. “I’ll never return to that, to him.”

“I won’t let that happen. You’re more than what he created you to be.”

Hesitantly, you wrapped an arm around his shoulder, causing his spine to grow rigid for the third time it seemed, before he melted under your touch, soft curls tickling the skin under your jaw before he buried his head in the crook of your neck, inhaling the scent of lavender and pine wood that always seemed to be glued to you. It wasn’t the first time you’ve touched Astarion like this, in an intimate way, without the premise of sex in the foreground, but this time felt different. 

It was different.

You were more soft than he realized, weren’t you? Astarion thought himself to be nothing concerning a warm-hearted, selfless individual. He was anything but. Bred for destruction and submission, bloodletted countless times through frantic and harsh whips, lashes - anything that could make the smell of his coppery perfume permeate the air.

However, for once in his eternal existence Astarion realized he felt something that had grown foreign to him; love.

Love for you. 

Love for himself. 

And he’d be damned if the sinned soil of this earth took any of that away from him.

[sulumuns-dootah]

28. 10. Body worship - Lucifer

    ༺☆༻

⟡ Masterlist ⟡ 

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽Helltober '24☾₊‧⁺˖⋆

A/N: If priest kink is a crime, just send me to Abaddon :D

Warnings: Religius themes (Lucifer is wearing a priest robe thingy and they're in a church-like structure), and as always when it comes to me writing for Lucifer: I do not own any Lucifer cards so he might be ooc

    ༺☆༻

Something you'd never expected is that even in Hell were chapel-like structures. One – and possibly the most grandiose – was attached to the Paradise Lost hospital. You've been a somewhat frequent visitor and yet, you've never even noticed its entrance. You even doubt that some of the hospital staff even know about it. Lucifer must've probably had it created in case his father appeared again.

From what he's told you, nobody's allowed to enter or let alone even look and yet, here you are. Sprawled on the altar with the tall demon exploring all the curves of your body with his hands, like you're some extremely priceless piece of art.

The whole situation feels like some sort of ritual and you're not sure if that's a good or a bad thing. There are about hundreds lit candles scattered around the sanctuary, illuminating the space around you.

Above Lucifer travels a cloud of lavender incense smoke. It's scent helping you relax in such situation. Being this exposed in such a holy-seeming place felt very wrong. But then again, you were lying underneath the first fallen angel himself.

“My, how divine you are. Truly created masterfully.” Lucifer muses as his eyes scan over every feature accentuated by the distorted shadows from the moody lighting.

“L-Luci~” you try to reach out for the demon to ground yourself back to reality. The smoke, low light and soft touches combined make you feel like you're in a dream.

Your hands manage to catch his biceps and without thinking they travel further, to his back. The muscles under your touch seem to tense, but you don't notice until your fingertips feel the much hotter skin around the base of his sensitive wing stumps.

All the wounds from his previous wings have healed almost perfectly, save for those two which he didn't already have the strength to fully rip off. Somehow, the remaining reminder of his past always found a way to keep bleeding despite the attempts of all the medical demons of his country.

“Y/N! N-no...” Lucifer's strong hands tear yours off his back and pin them on both sides of your head to the altar below you. The angry change in his voice tells you all that you need to know, and you're pretty sure that if there might be some blood left on your fingertips.

“Aw, I'm sorry. Are you still sensitive a lot?”

“Y-yes...” his voice is soft again, more sad this time. You can't even imagine the pain he's still in, after all those centuries, “But apparently my pain is mostly psychological. Or so I have been told by Buer.”

This hurts you even more. Him still mourning the disappearance of God and the loss of his brother must be still weighing him down. You wish you could make him feel better in some way. You wihs you could make him feel in some way better...

“Luci? Could you lie down instead of me?” you smooth your hands over his chest, now that he released them again.

“W-what do you mean, child of Adam?” a slight blush creeps onto his cheeks.

“Well, you always envelop me in all this love and attention and I want to finally give some back.” you impatiently sit up and start pulling him down, onto the marble surface.

“I-I..” he's unsure, but obeys and slowly lowers himself on the cold stone.

His body is still fully clothed in a fully black chasuble, adorned with his sigil down the front part, making him look like a Luciferian priest. The inside is lined with a steel blue satin, reminiscent of the likes that Papa Emeritus IV. wears during sermons.

As your hands separate the regal cloth and uncover Lucifer's bare skin, the cold fabric makes your hands tingle in parts where it touches. Just as expected, the fallen angel is fully naked and already half-hard.

Once he's as bare before you as you are, you straddle his hips and inspect his body just like he did minutes prior. His pale skin looks so soft, inviting you to lick, kiss and bite.

Up close, after leaning down to his heaving chest, resting against his elbows due to his painful wings, you're able to smell more of the lavender incense mixed with something that makes you feel immensely proud to be able to give Lucifer something no other demon, angel or human can.

The demon can sense this pride and smiles at you, feeding off of it despite him being the original source of it.

A quiet grunt leaves the man underneath you once your lips finally make contact with the skin of his chest. Your warm lips on his cold body send shock-waves throughout his whole being and make him feel tingly like rarely before. Is this what genuine affection feels like?

Kissing your way down, you arrive to one of his nipples and bite around it a few times before sucking the pink nub into your mouth. Just this bit of stimulation alone has Lucifer squirming underneath you and so you smooth your hands over his stomach to help keep him still.

“Nngh~! Y-Y/N!” he moans out, almost making it sound like a beginning of a prayer.

Making your way down the demon's torso, you try to leave as much bitemarks and hickeys as you can to serve as a reminder of your affection for the next few days to come. Once they fade you'll have to create new ones, but you don't mind that fact one bit.

The more kisses and marks you leave, the more prominent Lucifer's huge boner makes itself known underneath you and you can tell each slight move of your hips to lean further down his body only makes it harder for him to keep his composure.

“C-child o-of Adam... Do you not feel the arousal I feel at your advances?”

“I do, but there's so much more of you I want to adore!”

“Y-you've given me plenty of attention, so please, allow me to return that now as well.”

    ༺☆༻

Shhh... The prompt for tomorrow is Tentacles ^^

[ahgasegotarmy116]

hello 👋🏽 I wanted to ask if you could make a Drabble from bang-able where the oc and jungkook are both watching a movie and she fan girls over one of the male leads. I feel like it would be so cute to see Jungkook jealous. I understand if you can’t but I would love to see this, thank you!! :))

Haha sure! Let me know what you think 🤭

P.s. I read through this to edit it once so please ignore any mistakes 😅 ~~~~~~~~

"Okay what's wrong?" I ask, pausing Island right as a perfect frame of Cha Eunwoo pops on screen that it's almost difficult for me to take my eyes off of when I turn to address a very pouty Jungkook.

"Nothing" he grumbles and I sigh, tossing the remote on the coffee table and turning my body to face him. "If it was nothing you wouldn't be grunting and groaning and the other various array of sounds that you've no doubt been making just to get my attention"

"It's nothing alright" he denies again and I roll my eyes and grab the remote, giving up on talking it out when he's clearly not going to tell me unless I order him to.

"Suit yourself" I mumble and press play again, watching as Cha Eunwoo's character Johan gets out his sword while it illuminates his feature with a blue glow, leaving me biting down on my lip to stop the smile that's threatening to show.

I hear another scoff at that and notice that all of these reactions have been perfectly timed with when he's on the screen and so I chuckle.

"What's so funny?" he asks, no doubt frowning at me. "Oh nothing" I say, giving him the same answer he's given me and slouch back against the couch, amused with finding out the real truth.

"No what is it?" he asks again, acting completely hypocritical but I'll give in this time. "Your programming is showing" I tease and he scoffs again. "Yeah? And what of it?" he asks, crossing his arms over his chest leaving me smiling, the jealousy so apparent it’s laughable.

"It's just funny when that jealous side of you comes out to play" I say and he rolls his eyes, throwing the blanket off of him that we had been sharing, he doesn't need it for warmth or comfort but he knows that it makes me happy when we do it but it's always cute seeing these little signs of protest every once in a while.

"The amount of jealousy Ava added to your programing was perfect" I say while tossing the blanket to the side as well since I'm warm enough. "Well I'm glad you're having fun" he says under his breath leaving me turning to face him again and placing a hand on his cheek to bring his gaze back to me.

"He's just an actor in a drama Jungkook don't worry, it's not like I'm in love with him or anything" I reassure him but he's clearly not convinced. "Then why have you subjected me to watching it not once, not twice, but three times all the way through? Sounds like obsession to me" he argues, a slight pout on his lips very evident.

"I can watch this on my own you know. You don't have to watch it with me every time" I chuckle and he looks at me rather confused. "But you like it when we watch stuff together" he says, thinking he might've input that data incorrectly.

"I do but I don't want you to have to suffer through it" I say and he sighs and turns his face away from me. "It's just my programing. You can change it so you can watch in peace. You could even make it so I would tell you that you guys would be a perfect couple if you'd like" he says sarcastically.

I love the jealousy feature so much.

"No no that's okay, I don't mind watching it with you like this" I say and turn back to do so leaving him sighing and getting up to walk away. I pause the drama and I follow after the pouty baby, finding him way more enticing than the show right now.

"Where are you going?" I laugh when I see him flop down on the bed, watching the ceiling fan go round and round. "Figured I'd let you fangirl in peace" he says with a big sigh again. I chuckle and climb on top of him, straddling his lap with him immediately grabbing my hips to keep me steady.

"Come on don't be like that" I say, leaning down and kissing him to which he responds and I sigh into it, feeling even more attracted to him when he gets like this. It makes me feel wanted and that's something I won't ever take for granted.

"Like I said" he mumbles against my lips between kisses, "You can reprogram me" he finishes off and let's his hands wander up and down my torso but I sit back and look down at him again. "I like you just as you are" I say while running my fingers through his hair and he sighs.

"Good, because that's a feature that would take a long time to uninstall" he chuckles and I frown at him. "Some reprograming takes longer than others?" I ask, this being new information to me.

"Well it's a personality trait so those ones take a little bit longer to change compared to something like you begging me to fuck you harder" he teases and bucks his hips up into mine making me gasp a bit, the motion catching me off guard.

"Noted" I say after clearing my throat to break that tension he had tried to build. I try to get off his lap but he uses it as a change to put me on my back and hover over me.

"Speaking of fucking you harder you haven't touched me all day. Did you wanna play for a bit?" he asks, giving me a soft kiss and trailing his lips down my jaw and neck, sucking on that spot that gets me going.

"You still jealous?" I chuckle and he growls and bites down on me, "I don't want to talk about Father Johan when I'm trying to spend time with you" he growls and I giggle, leaving him scoffing and getting off of me, choosing to sit on the foot of the bed.

"Fine I won't talk about him anymore" I say, sitting up and taking up the space next to him. "You sure?" he asks and I nod but he rolls his eyes, clearly not believing me. "I won't talk about him anymore tonight. Promise" I say, holding up my pinky and he wraps his around mine and we press our thumbs together to seal it.

"Right after I finish up this episode" I say, slipping my hand out of his and trying to book it out of the room but he grabs me by my waist and throws me back down onto the bed, not letting me get away after that little stunt I pulled.

"No more" he growls again, hovering over me and giving me a glare that gives me a fluttering feeling in my stomach. "Okay fine no more" I say and run my finger along his jaw.

"You wanna take charge tonight?" I ask, the current mood he's been worked up into being a perfect transition for that and he smirks at me before giving me a reply that couldn't have been more perfect.

"It's cute that you think you had a choice tonight"

BANG-ABLE Masterlist

[layviyu]

PJSK CHARACTERS WATCHING THEIR S/O DIE OVER AND OVER

short desc: kinda like the madoka magica plot where homura becomes a traumatized war veteran because madoka always dies

type: bulleted hcs

characters: hinomori shizuku, mochizuki honami, kamishiro rui, shinonome ena, aoyagi toya

genre: slight angst

note: i wrote this on january 2023 and i dont remember anything so it probably sucks

@ hinomori shizuku

shizuku was completely exhausted, to say the least.

she couldn’t bear the feeling of losing you and having to start over every time. having to turn the both of you into strangers again. her loving you with all her heart, and you not even knowing who she is.

even shiho, who’s not the closest to her sister, notices her sudden mood drop, yet, uncertain of what could be troubling her, she decides not to ask.

whenever shizuku sees you for the ‘first time’ again, she wishes she could tell you what to do to avoid your death, but she couldn’t — that would only make things worse, and she’s very well aware of that.

as much as it pains her, she can only do small things to try to change the future, for now.

“I promise you, one day, it’ll be over. And when that day comes, I can finally spend my so-desired time with you.”

@ mochizuki honami

what was honami doing wrong?

she did everything, everything, to avoid that terrible fate. but it couldn’t be helped — it would still happen, no matter how much she tried.

she gave her all, she devoted herself to saving you. she was trying her best, her all, to keep you safe and alive. apparently, it wasn’t good enough. it was never good enough. every time, you’d end up dying in her arms. over and over.

whenever she sees you for the ‘first time’, she feels her heart ache. knowing that she’ll have to go through everything again and again, only for a false image of hope that maybe, maybe she could save you.

she never had the chance to tell you the words she was dying to say. even in your last moments, she couldn’t bring herself to say it. ever since the first tragedy, you’ve never heard the words ‘I love you’ from her ever again.

“Once I can finally let my guard down, then I’ll allow myself to soften at your touch. I love you. Evsen if I’m not ready to say it, I hope you know that.”

@ kamishiro rui

as much as he wanted to, rui couldn’t give up. not yet. not until he saved you.

why him? why you? why did you both have to be disturbed in such a manner?

in the beginning, he thought himself to be really lucky, to have the opportunity of being with you one more time. but as more time passed, he started to believe this was not a blessing — but instead a curse.

waking up, knowing that he’d try his all to save you but being aware that it all would go to waste, was extremely exhausting.

whenever he saw you for the ‘first time’, he could feel himself relaxing at the thought of being together with you again. having your hands run through his hair, having you laugh at his cringey pick-up lines... he yearned for that, even if he knew he couldn’t have it, at least not at that time.

he watched you die over and over. eventually, death was not a new concept to him. but every time, even knowing it wasn’t the first time and it wouldn’t be the last, watching your lifeless body always gave him a feeling of despair.s

you always called him a genius, then, why? why couldn’t he come up with a brilliant plan, as you’d say, to save you? why couldn’t he save the one person who stood by him at all times?

“I want to be with you so bad, but still, I’m not able to keep you here long enough. What am I doing wrong, my love?”

@ shinonome ena

this wasn’t fair. this wasn’t fair at all. why did they have to take you — ena’s favorite person?

she’d give 110% of her to keep you, even knowing that she couldn’t be with you, knowing that you’d die again, she still chased after your life as if it’d be the last thing she’ll ever do.

sometimes, she couldn’t help but being irritated. if only she didn’t love you, this wouldn’t be happening to her. she was very well-aware that this was one selfish thought, but she thought about it every now and then. despite being mad, she could never say that she regretted loving you.

whenever she saw you for the ‘first time’, she knew it was important to keep her distance, for your safety. despite that, she glanced at you quite often, fighting the urge to go after you.

having to be emotionally distant from you frustrated her. she watched you talk to a lot of people throughout the day, knowing that she wouldn’t be one of them. after all, you were still her significant other, even if you didn’t know it.

“Why won’t you simply stay?! Damn it... I want you to be safe, be alive, be mine! And I’ll make sure it happens, even if it takes a hundred... no, a thousand times.”

@ aoyagi toya

the only thing toya wished for was for it to be over.

it was extremely tiring. he’d never do something that pains him, but he couldn’t give up on you just yet. even if he has to go through the same feeling of emptiness every time, he’s willing to do it, if it means saving you.

not only that, but even his bandmates notice his sudden lack of motivation. every time, akito confronted him about that, but he never answered. he couldn’t tell him the truth, he’d never believe it. it was awful to avoid his best friend, but he couldn’t help it, rescuing you was his top priority.

whenever he saw you for the ‘first time’, you merely looking at him already made his heart flutter, as if it were before the tragedy. he loved to see you so... lively. yet, he knew he shouldn’t let his guard down, as he was already aware of what would happen.

he tried his best to keep you away from danger, directly or indirectly, but none of his actions seemed to help. in the end, he always held your lifeless body, never having the chance to confess his undying love for you once more.

“I’ll do everything for things to go back as they used to be. Even if it takes thousands of times, I won’t give up, not until I make sure you’re safe.”

layviyu — do not repost my work on any other social media

posted on: 01/03/2024 — last edited on: 01/14/2024

[batemansluvrr]

— 𝑪𝑯𝑬𝑹𝑹𝒀 𝑳𝑰𝑷𝑺𝑻𝑰𝑪𝑲

A/N: Thank you for the 100+ followers! Here’s another fluff one-shot! Since two days ago I was at one of the Lana del Rey concerts (Italy) I absolutely got inspired. Her voice is just so magical. Also, sorry about my english!

Contains: Patrick Bateman x gn/fem/male!reader, fluff.

Synopsis: You two argued. You actually felt so guilty about it, so in the evening you simply decided to visit him at his apartment but at first, Bateman didn’t seem really happy to see you.

Word count: 1.3k+

Patrick was laying back on his bed, working from home and sipping from a glass of wine when the doorbell rang. Your expression was confused and worried, but you still managed to pronunce some words. "Patrick, It’s me! Y/n!" You didn’t even let him respond that you had already opened the door. It was strange, since it was open. When you found him in his bedroom, you couldn’t do nothing but notice that his shirt was slightly unbuttoned, leaving a slight view of his chest. You blushed at the embarrassing situation. "We.. We need to talk." You managed to say, your cheeks still red. "Can’t it wait?" Patrick immediately asked, his eyes still on the computer. He had no intention of actually talking with you, he thought that you only wanted to argue about something. It was always the same thing. He grabbed the glass of wine and took another sip.

"You don’t care, do you?" Your eyes widened as he wasn’t even looking at you. "About you getting mad over every little thing? No." Patrick shrugged nonchalantly, he knew that you would have hated his response and well, he’ll never change. He really did care, but he would never admit that. Suddenly you noticed the dark circles that were becoming even more apparent under his majestic, hazel eyes. "Are you even sleeping? God Patrick, you definitely need rest!" You grabbed his arm, trying to soften him a bit, but that seemed to not work.

"Stop mothering me. This is my job and it takes sacrifices. People think it's all a fun game but it has real consequences." Patrick immediately blurted out, while his long fingers kept typing something. You sighed and came closer to him, afraid to lose your own patience. Once you sat on the bed beside him, your hands moved to his neck, hugging him. "What about me preparing you an hot tea, hm?" You asked smiling softly. "Why the hell would I want you to make me tea? I’m working." He spoke annoyed as he grabbed your arm and removed it from his body. You couldn’t see the frustration that filled him, but the gasp that was released by your lips was a dead giveaway, even though that wasn’t going to stop you. "Please Patrick, I know we argued but we can’t do this anymore." You begged, you even wondered if he heard you, since you practically murmured those words.

Patrick finally looked up from his computer screen and glanced at you in the eyes, taking a moment to collect himself. His face softened a little and his eyebrows furrowed together, clearly he was trying to hold back his frustrations and focus. Bateman didn’t want to admit it but he felt bad, he didn’t want to be so harsh on you. “I know, I understand you’re trying to help. I’m just so fucking pissed off because of this damn job, I can’t have anyone here getting in the way.” You pecked him softly on the lips, making him close his eyes and enjoy every single second about it. "I admire your determination, really, but I want you to be happy and right now, I can tell that you’re not." You admitted, touching his shoulder. "I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have yelled at you like that yesterday." You added, looking at the blanket that was covering your knees. "It’s nothing." Patrick dismissed the apology, he was honestly not that bothered by your yelling anymore, though he did appreciate the attempt. He didn’t see it as worth making an issue out of. "You just get upset easily, don’t worry about it." He added, his tone is a bit softer than before. Patrick wasn’t exactly great at making up with others, but he could try. "I know what I’m doing is crazy but I need this. I need to do this." While his low-hot voice tried to reassure you his glance returned at that computer again. You literally wanted to grab it and throw it away. After almost ten seconds your lips were connected one more time, Patrick was shocked at first but he seemed to be more than okay with that. "You need rest Patrick, that’s what you need." You admitted, caressing his cheek while a smile had formed on your angelic face. He sighed. You were right. He was exhausted but he was determined and he didn’t want to give up. It’ll take time but he wanted to work on this and make things work. "Fine, but you’re going to sleep with me tonight. It’s the least you can do after all." He smirked then embraced you, pulling you close. Your heart was officially full of joy even though you tried to not show it, falling miserably of course.

"Here, let me prepare you a tea."

┈┈┈┈┈┈ · ౨ৎ · ┈┈┈┈┈┈

Bateman took the cup, sighing before taking a sip. The warm liquid felt great and he took a moment to relax. The tea did ease his tense muscles after all. "Thanks." He gave a simple smile before taking another sip. "You’re welcome." You smiled back. He took one last sip and set the cup to the side before standing and walking towards you, wrapping his arms around you neck and pulling you into a hug, again. He stood in silence for a moment, enjoying the contact with the person he loved. "I know things are hard right now, but I love you. That alone makes it worth it." He whispered, leaning back to look down at you. You were beautiful, his beautiful fiancée.

"You’re doing your best and I admire that." You told him, hypnotised by his mesmerising irises. "Then I guess I’m doing something right, at least in your eyes." Bateman chuckled, brushing the hair from your face and caressing your cheek. "I love you. I’m just trying my best to make us work. It’s hard for me."

"I know it is Patrick, I know. Just don’t worry, okay?" Your pure smile definitely reassured him, as he was staring in your eyes, observing your soul.

"You even wore my favorite, that shade of red is perfect." He leaned down and kissed your lips, lingering for a moment before inspecting your lipstick again. It was a deep red, almost bloody in color. It was a color that could easily be seen as intimidating or even repulsive on someone else yet on your face, on your skin tone it intrigued Patrick’s eyes. He was drawn to it and has been since he first saw you wear it, not being able to look away. You looked so beautiful to Patrick. Your smile was pure and inviting like an innocent school girl yet on your lips there was the seductive, devilish red which just highlighted your natural beauty. The color was bold, drawing attention to your lips and to the shade that couldn’t easily be ignored. Yet despite it was drawing Patrick’s attention, he wasn’t intimidated by it nor disgusted. Instead, he was lured in by the color, wanting to kiss those red lips a million times again and see how they felt.

The color lured him even more closer, almost like a seductress who has the man by her finger tips. A voice filled his head as Patrick looked at you, it was a voice demanding him to kiss you. The color was the devil in yourself, drawing him in but not scaring him. He craved to taste the red color, to see if it was like blood or something else.

After a moment he leaned in another time, pressing his lips against yours in a slow, passionate kiss. It was a kiss that would have made some swoon. The man's tongue found your lower lip, his hand gently caressed your neck while the other one held you tightly. His face was flushed and he was breathing deeply, enjoying every second of it. "I couldn't resist." He spoke breathlessly after pulling away, looking into your eyes once again.

"You're just too beautiful, Y/n."

[songmingisthighs]

High End

group : ateez

pairing : hongjoong × model!reader

genre : smut

wc : 2.8 k

warning : explicit smut; oral (m receiving), alcohol consumption, degradation (??), unprotected sex (just no), hongjoong being cocky, mc being a filthy sub, bathroom sex ?, cum eating, idek man it's confusing like there's slight spit play ig? and like some pussy slapping, unrealistic depiction of sex. if your sex after this sucks pls don't come at me. not my fault your partner is not kim hongjoong.

a/n : it's ass oclock. literally the witching hour like 3.33 am. if i don't make sense, i am not sorry. you are reading the horny thoughts of a delirious woman who just saw kim hongjoong dressed in balmain and suddenly she got inspired to write about this genre of hongjoong. it's hongjoong. how can i not? any complaints should be addressed to my chinese lawyer. sue mi.

buy me coffee?

Kim Hongjoong is a powerful man and you know it.

You saw him when he was invited by Olivier Rousteing himself to get a sneak peek of the newest line. It was obvious to everyone there that Kim Hongjoong was a new face, he had never been seen in the fashion scene before and yet he suddenly appeared next to Olivier himself like they were old racquetball buddies. Honestly, it kind of seemed like Hongjoong was simply Olivier's newest pet, a fascination of his worldly inspiration.

Or so you thought.

Kim Hongjoong easily commands any room he's in no matter what he was doing. The first time you laid eyes on him was when he was being introduced to the venue owner. 'Soft' was the first thing you thought of him followed by 'delicate'. You have never seen a man with such stature to seem inviting yet absolutely forbidden. There was this aura building simply by him smiling at people and making small talk. There was a moment where your eyes met and you swore you saw a glint in his eyes that seemed... possessive. Your model friends told you to pay him no mind but even as you were called to disrobe and do final touches backstage, your eyes didn't leave him. Neither did he on you.

Throughout the show, through wardrobe changes, you notice that Hongjoong too experienced some changes of his own. He was eyeing you in a way that was rather different than when you both first laid eyes on each other. The outfit the stylists put on you felt almost like nothing under Hongjoong's gaze. You convinced yourself that he was eyeing the material and the styling or even the makeup but no, he was practically undressing you. Your assumption was further supported when you saw how his gaze shifted from the model who went before you to you. His rounded orbs that peeked from his sunglasses slanted, his bottom lip sucked between his teeth, his crisp suit showed a noticeable rise of his chest that remained until you turned around, and when you reached the end to strike one last post, you saw him ducking his head to watch you as he let his sunglasses slid down his sharp nose and licked his bottom lip.

So obviously when Olivier brought him over to introduce him to you, you couldn't help but be intimidated. But when Olivier said that Hongjoong was intrigued with you, you felt your toes curl and your breath hitch. It was even worse when he took your hand gently and planted a soft kiss on the back. The motion was slow and steady as if he was appreciating every minuscule welcome of his gesture from you. Electric shocks coursed through your body from the spot where his lips lingered just a tad bit too long. Not that you were complaining though, you liked the feeling when he made contact. For some reason, the littlest touch felt addicting, it left the spot he touched with a warm sensation that you craved even seconds after it was over. Not only that, but the way he spoke was alluring. Of course, he tried speaking English to you and Olivier, and while it was good enough for you to understand, his manager took over and helped translate. All this time you thought French was the sexiest language but apparently you were wrong because suddenly Hongjoong's aura changed once he was in his element. That room was his element and you couldn't peel your eyes off of him, it was as if you were in a trance. You hadn't even realized that Olivier excused himself and Hongjoong to attend to the guests, wanting Hongjoong to meet some of the people from Balmain itself. While Olivier simply turned and walked away, Hongjoong took a step towards you, tucked your hair behind your ear and smiled a devilishly gentle smile.

"I hope to see you soon."

Though it was phrased like a request, you realized that it was very much a demand. With eyes that dropped to the hand he kissed, he looked back up to you and left with a not-so-subtle wink.

Had anyone else seen the both of you interacting, they would've immediately tried to cut the sexual tension with a sword and they would've done it so easily. Kim Hongjoong is a powerful, influential man who knows a lot of things that are in his element. But what he knows most is what he wants and moreover, he knows how to get what he wants. You hadn't even realized that he slipped something into your hand until you looked at it.

A room key.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

It wasn't clear how it happened, it wasn't clear when exactly it happened. But you found yourself between Hongjoong's manspreading legs in the bathtub, sucking his cock as he took sips of his Moet messily. Droplets of the bittersweet liquid fell from the corners of his lips down to your face and into your busy mouth. The taste of his precum mixed with expensive alcohol somehow made your head swirl as if you were experiencing a drug-induced high. You were never one to analyze the taste of cum, but you had a sneaking sensation that rather than the alcohol, it was Hongjoong's cum that made the alcohol taste better. Maybe it was some sort of a drug, Kim Hongjoong that is, he was your drug. Through your heavy lids, you could see Hongjoong smirking down at you with maniacal ease playing on his lips, taunting your presence and your work. The golden liquid in the tall glass was swirled around to further emphasize the power he had between you. While it seemed like he wasn't affected much by your greedy mouth trying to coax an orgasm out of him, the way his cock twitch inside your mouth said otherwise. You knew that having him was a good idea ever since you first laid eyes on it when Hongjoong oh-so-casually pulled the tie of his bathrobe to reveal his boner. Never have you been so attracted to someone's genitals but you knew you just had to have that pretty thing in your mouth.

"You like this, don't you? You're enjoying yourself much more than I'm enjoying my cock between your lips," he mocked. Usually, you wouldn't appreciate being degraded like that, a sexual act in its own nature is explicit and dirty but somehow he made it sinfully pleasing. You couldn't help but clench at how he was talking down at you, mocking you for being desperate for him. His chuckle sent a wave of vibration that reached your tongue, "I can see your cunt clenching at nothing. Do you really want me that bad? Do you like my cock that much?" he taunted. The fact that the bathtub was facing a window alluded you momentarily, you were so focused on sucking off Hongjoong that the whole world almost literally blurred away.

For Kim Hongjoong and Kim Hongjoong only, you were nothing but a toy that he could collect and play with however he wanted. But you had no issue with it as upon realization, Hongjoong is a man who appreciates art. Whatever he does has a meaning and the meaning is more often than not uniquely beautiful. To be the art that he possesses to appreciate, was like the highest honour you could ever reach.

The more you tasted him, the hungrier you were. As your head bobbed to take more of him, wanting to get him to cum on your tongue so you could selfishly guzzle his juice for yourself. "Greedy, greedy girl," he said almost in a disappointed manner as he ran his hand down your hunched back down as far as he could reach, "How can something so beautiful be so sinful?" he sighed. Your mouth detached from his cock when you felt him drag his fingers from just above your ass and up. The feeling of his nails marking you ever so slowly was thrilling; your pussy dripped with arousal, mixing into the warm, soapy water, and your spine arched as goosebumps rose in the path that Hongjoong made. Had you not been kneeling on the tub, you would've definitely slipped and possibly injured yourself.

Hongjoong watched in awe as your face contorted in pleasure. He watched as your bottom lip trembled and eyebrows furrowed while your eyes shone with the help of the accumulating tears that gathered from the pleasurable sting. The only thing Hongjoong regret at that moment was how he couldn't make a baroque painting out of your erotic expression. The lines forming on your face told all the emotions that you were feeling as if it was telling its own story and explaining the harmony. Looking south, your trembling breasts made your state somehow more precious; the stiff peaks looked so inviting but the fleshy mounds warned him to treat you delicately. In contrast to the night sky that served as a backdrop, you looked like a star in his eyes.

Without wasting time, Hongjoong slid into the tub, joining you in a kneeling position as he turned your body to face the window. The gleaming lights of Paris in the night framed the reflection of you with Hongjoong pressing his body tightly to your back. For a moment, you could feel the smooth head of his cock prodding around your pussy, collecting your arousal as if he wanted to collect them so as to not go to waste. Slowly and carefully, you felt Hongjoong's arms making their way up your arms. Your face heated up when you felt him lift them and lock them behind his neck. "Keep them there. Can you do that for me?" Your eyes fluttered at the feeling of his hot breath and lips on your ear. This man truly knew what he was doing. Which was why he slapped your cunt when you didn't give him an answer. "I was asking you," he growled which made his chest vibrate on your back. With a nervous lick to your bottom lip, you meekly nodded, "Yes, sir, I can," though you tried, you couldn't hold the crack of your voice which thankfully Hongjoong found adorable so he didn't even comment on it. "Good," the hand that slapped your cunt stayed in its place with two of his fingers nestled between your nether lips comfortably. His other hand soon found purchase between your breasts to rest on your sternum. He must've felt how quick your heart was beating because he began grinding his cock on your cunt accompanied by his fingers tapping on your clit into the rhythm of your heartbeat. Even if you willed yourself, and you did, you couldn't help it when your hips jolted into the taps, wanting more stimulation from his fingers as your hole clenched, forcing some of your arousal to drip more to Hongjoong's cock.

In one swift move, Hongjoong impaled you with his length. The sudden impact almost sent you reeling forward, hurtling even, had it not for Hongjoong's surprisingly strong grip on your body. Each thrust from his hips sent your thighs trembling in pleasure and it was only intensified when his fingers decided to toy with your clit. Melodious grunts and moans on top of sensuous huff and puff of air should not be as erotic but Hongjoong managed to fill your head with his verbal affirmation of pleasure. Your senses were sent to overdrive while your perseverance was put to the test. Through each slip of your fingers or how your knees buckle, you tried to not falter. "God, Hongjoong," you moaned, nearly squealing when Hongjoong pinched your clit rather harshly. The sudden treatment caused your body to shiver and it was to Hongjoong's delight to see your breasts bouncing and legs trying to close.

If you think you were in a state of absolute bliss, Hongjoong was in a whole new plane of existence. He loved how responsive you were to his moves, the way your body sought more of him whenever he touched a new place. He loved how your skin felt against his. But nothing beats the feeling of staking a claim over a pussy, your pussy. Though you both just met, his ego managed to convince him that your pussy was made for him, it was melded to accommodate him and only him. He wondered how he could feel so amazing being in someone's cunt. Obviously, there is pleasure, but anyone can feel pleasure from anything. Not everyone had the privilege of experiencing heavenly sinful bliss. It felt so right but so wrong at the same time because how was he supposed to live without being inside of you all the time after this? He never wanted to leave. Even if he does, he wanted to make sure to truly make you his.

"I'm going to make your pussy mine. I'll make sure to leave part of me inside you," he announced. Your heart skipped a beat, anticipating the absolute recklessness Hongjoong was about to do to you. Words never had such an effect on you but you love it, you love what Hongjoong was doing to you where he wanted to do it with you. The sound of sloshing water and also the feeling of being swayed by the movement of the water due to your activity felt organic, it felt natural. Droplets of water that splashed on your entangled bodies served to remind you of the reality that the rest of the world still existed. But it didn't seem to matter. Not when you and he were so close to cumming.

Knowing that he didn't want your hands to wander, you decided that your release was more important. Your right hand left its post to grab the Hongjoong's hand that was nestled on your cunt. Before Hongjoong could protest, your now vacant left hand grabbed a handful of Hongjoong's hair on the back of his head, instantly causing Hongjoong to gasp and roll his eyes into their socket. Meanwhile, you worked his hand on your clit, rubbing harsh circles on the abused bundle of nerve frantically. Your hips ground to chase the pleasure on your clit and to meet Hongjoong's thrusts continuously until you were squealing, releasing your cum. As you rode the high or orgasm, your body tried to curl up on its own, your cunt had a vice grip on Hongjoong's cock as your legs tried to snap shut. The pleasure was almost too much for you to handle that it started becoming painful. But the pain was too good, so addicting, you wanted more of it and you didn't want it to stop. So through the pain, with Hongjoong's other arm keeping you close, you enjoyed every bit of sadistic release.

Hongjoong tried to pump his cock as best he could despite the firm grip your cunt had on him. Thankfully, he managed to unload his seed in time, just as your hole began fluttering. The knowledge that he was making you his along with the sweet sensation of release were the two things Hongjoong could think about. On top of that, he also believed that he couldn't get enough of it, especially the sight of your body twitching in front of him, decorated by the Parisian lights. It was a boost to his ego. Moreover, when you finally collapsed into the tub with your head resting on Hongjoong's hip next to his softening cock, Hongjoong never felt more powerful.

In contrast to the activity you both just went through, Hongjoong softly carded his fingers through your hair, gently so as to not cause tangles. The comforting gesture allowed you to close your eyes and enjoy the moment, though your lips decided to show some appreciation to the man by peppering kisses around his hips. "You did such a good job," Hongjoong cooed affectionately, genuinely satisfied with what just happened. So much so that he took his glass that he abandoned on the tray by the tub to finish off his Moet.

You thought he just wanted to finish off the glass but you were wrong. Because the next thing you know, Hongjoong maneuvered your body to lean back on the tub as he leaned close to you. With his thumb, he gently coaxed your chin open and spit some of the alcohol into your mouth. Your eyes widened in surprise initially but the stern yet hopeful look in Hongjoong's eyes made you swallow the liquid. The slight burn of alcohol was no match to the fire that burned in Hongjoong's eyes when he saw how obedient you were. Once you opened your mouth to show that you had indeed swallowed the mixture of his spit and alcohol, Hongjoong wasted no time in pressing his lips wholly on yours. The rest of the alcohol in his mouth dripped down to yours, some you welcome down your throat and some dribbled down the sides of your mouth down to your chin and further down, creating a trail to your cleavage. With a last pat to your spent cunt that was leaking his cum underwater, Hongjoong smirked to your lips, "Such a good job indeed."

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@chloepurpy

[aladaylessecondblog]

"Shoulder Angel"

Why me?

Sadara thought it as she watched the door open, and Dagoth Ur step through it and onto the tile floor. Once more he was given a towel, and she was able to question the situation. The only change was the deep red robe he was wearing, that had some fancy embroidery about the hem, and the same belt he'd worn before.

Just...why?

Well - she knew why this was happening, he thought she was somebody else, some Nerevar guy reincarnated. And Vivec apparently thought so too, if his bribe was any indication. It was all this Nerevar's fault in the first place, but in the second it was hers, for taking Vivec's money and indulging whatever in Oblivion THIS was.

Pffff...Vivec knows what he likes and knows how to use it. It's not my fault if it works.

Sadara gulped slightly.

Please tell me you're not Nerevar, she thought, And if you are please leave me alone, I don't need more people telling me what to do.

And so what if I am? Huh?

Sadara gave a sigh, and approached Dagoth Ur's table.

He crossed his legs. I hope you noticed.

She ignored Nerevar's input, brought up her notepad, and tried to speak in her best Customer Service voice, "And what will it be?"

There was a pause, and a feeling in the back of her mind like a dog bouncing on its feet in anticipation of a bone.

"Coffee to warm me up, for one." Dagoth Ur's voice was a bit slower, more deliberate. He shifted slightly in his seat, and the eyes of the mask were turned up to her own. "And a plain kwama egg omelette."

"Coming right up. Jiub?" Sadara looked over her shoulder, "Y'get that?"

"Yeah, I got it, won't take long." Jiub took a long inhale from his cigarette, and got to work.

Sadara moved to get the coffee, thankful to get away from that mask and the empty stare it was giving her. Even with her back turned she could feel that stony gaze. But, she told herself, there was nothing to be afraid of. If she was Nerevar reborn (and that was a BIG if, she put zero stock in prophecy nonsense like that), then the man wouldn't harm her. He liked Nerevar too well for that...

He DID care for me?

...so there was nothing to worry about, so long as he didn't make things strange.

"I didn't see any buoyant armigers on my way here," Dagoth Ur said suddenly, "And it makes me wonder why. They usually prefer this place to the imperial pancake restaurant on the other side of the Ghostfence."

"Well..." Sadara, who still hadn't forgotten getting that hand in the mail, said, "Well, after the last time, I can't imagine they're enthusiastic about...patronizing this place."

"The last time? What happened, hmm?"

He already knows what happened, the minx! I can practically hear the smile!

Shut up, Nerevar. Not that that's who you are.

Who the oblivion ELSE would I be? Do you hear voices often?

"Well," Sadara started, "Ah, one of them slapped me, you see..."

"And?"

Jiub finished the eggs and Sadara brought them over.

"And I got...a hand in the mail later. It was frightening," she said, "I mean--it must have been from one of them, maybe even the same one to do it. But...I was worried it was a threat."

"A threat? Why would you think--"

Well that confirms THAT!

Nerevar echoed Dagoth Ur's words, questioning why she would think it was a threat.

Why, I'd have loved getting a body part from my enemies! Tells me that they've been taken care of!

"Generally when body parts come in the mail, one takes it as a threat...regardless of how it was labeled."

A pause. She couldn't see his face, but his suddenly tense posture gave off every indication of surprise.

"I'm sure it wasn't meant that way," he said a moment later. Then, after another pause, and a slight tilt back of his mask so he could eat, he set to eating.

Sadara was relieved. Nerevar was anything but.

What are you doing? Say something to him! Tell him you appreciated the gesture!

I DIDN'T appreciate it! Sadara thought back, I don't know how they did shit back in the First Era but that's not how things work now!

Say something nice. Anything. You've hurt his feelings...

His feelings aren't my responsibility!

Look, be nice and you'll get good tips. Keep him happy and you'll get something out of it. Is that enough incentive?

Nerevar was somewhere between furious and desperate, and Sadara honest-to-gods could not have said which of them better suited his tone. The dog metaphor was ever more appropriate - it was as if he were scratching at a door, begging to get through.

Fine, she thought, Fine, I will.

She looked back to Dagoth Ur.

"Should I be worried about retribution from the buoyant armigers?" she asked, on noting he was done with his eggs. "I assume the gesture was meant to threaten them, now I'm...aware of what it wasn't supposed to do."

"I can ensure nothing happens," he replied easily, "If it's a concern."

"I'm able to defend myself against one or two of them, but several..." She took the plate, and on noting his empty cup took it to give him a refill. "Well. I suppose in that case I would need help. But I've always had Jiub around for that."

"The cook?"

The mask looked in Jiub's direction.

"We're not fucking if that's what you're thinking," Jiub called back, "I like about five things in life and fucking's not one of them. We just watch each other's back."

"JIUB!" Sadara snapped.

"What? We're not."

Now she WAS sorry, and she turned around to say as much. She was still half afraid of being the object of Dagoth Ur's anger. But on looking back at him saw the faintest line of a smile from what she could see of his lower face.

The bell above the door rang. In walked a couple ordinators, followed shortly by a somewhat stooped older lady Sadara didn't get a good view of, occupied with the coffee pot as she was. The cup was soon filled, and then pressed back into Dagoth Ur's hands, allowing the barest hint of skin contact as her fingers brushed absently against his.

Gods, it's been AGES...

Not NOW, Nerevar!

Isn't he wonderful? Nerevar questioned her.

In a semi-adorable wet cat kind of a way, maybe.

You are probably the first person to touch him that wasn't trying to kill him in literal centuries. I'd be like that too, if I still had a body! Well. I mean I felt it through YOU, but...it's just not the same.

Sadara moved away from the table quickly, and down to that of the older lady's. Only once she was up close did she realize who the woman was.

"Queen Mother Barenziah," she said, giving a bow and praying her tone was polite enough, "I trust your journey was...ah...not too irksome. Travel behind the Ghostfence is unpleasant at the best of times."

"Yes, well, we all make do...I can't imagine why anyone would want to live back here, unless they're a masochist, or don't have much of a choice in the matter."

"To what do we owe the honor of the visit?"

"Because the Waffle House in Mournhold is full of people who wouldn't know good food if it was spit in their face. I've not seen a good once since I left Riften and I'm hoping this one will be different."

"There's an IHOP--"

A scoff.

"--but we're pleased to have you here. Now what would you like to eat?"

Barenziah had rather a large order, considering her two guards - three All-Star specials; six capped, topped, and diced hashbrowns; three waffles; and four sides of ham.

"That'll take a little while," Sadara said, "I hope the wait won't irk you."

"I've got nothing but time, child." The woman smiled, briefly, and then asked for coffee for all three of her party.

The rain went on outside. Inside, the atmosphere was almost peaceful--certainly it was quieter than its usual. Sadara retrieved the coffee, and brought the three cups on a tray.

"I forgot to ask if you wanted anything with it, but there's a few packs of cream and sugar, and we have a few flavored syrups if you--"

"We prefer it black anyway," said both the ordinators at once.

"As do I. It makes things much easier, that," Barenziah said. She glanced over Sadara's shoulder. "But it looks as though you might be having trouble. Isn't that Dagoth Ur?"

"Yes, but he's...he's rather quiet. In a way," Sadara replied, and noting the presence of the ordinators once again, carefully adjusted her words, "He may be under the impression that I'm someone important to him."

One of the ordinators lifted his head. "Nerevarine?"

Instantly Sadara tensed.

"No, no, I want none of that here," Barenziah scolded her guard, "Really, does this woman look like she's about to claim she's that old Chimeri warlord? No? I thought so. Sit down, I want to have a nice breakfast, not spill blood on coffee."

Old warlord? I WAS KING--

Sadara ignored Nerevar's outburst, and nodded along as she listened, then said, "He's somewhat of a...regular, in a way. Seems to be interested in me, though I can't..."

"And what about you?" the question was asked almost in a whisper.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, what do you think of HIM?"

"Well--he's obsessive, and pushy, but has the aura of a sad little man, and that's...honestly not as threatening as I've been told. He's almost adora--"

Barenziah reached up suddenly, and grabbed Sadara by the collar, yanking her down slowly to whisper, "Don't do it."

"Don't--do what?"

"Do not. Do it. Do not get friendly with the egomaniac who thinks he's a god. I'm warning you - that story doesn't end any way but with you figuring out you're less important than the gods-forsaken cause. It's not worth it. Whatever you're thinking about him - the posture, the glory, the body, just remember what I tell you."

"My queen, really, this isn't necessary," Sadara whispered back, "I think the worst he's done is make me laugh."

"You think that's harmless, eh? Just you wait. You laugh, and laugh, and then all your clothes fall off. Look at me, child. Look. At. Me."

Sadara, not having much of a choice, looked.

"Repeat after me. I will not let crazy put its cock in me."

"I will not let crazy put its cock in me," Sadara repeated, "It's never going to happen, alright? He does weird shit. It'd never work."

The fuck it won't! We'll find a way!

NOT NOW, NEREVAR!

The squeak of the bathroom door sounded off, and she was let go.

Dagoth Ur left after settling his bill and giving quite a good tip - and that same slight smile she'd seen earlier, when he finished the last of his coffee.

[monster-rinds]

Chapter 54: Cassiopeia’s Boast

Paws and hooves too numb to feel the ground anymore, weight too slight to find traction, and hide and body barely substantial enough to be bitten, I wafted past Cassy on inertia that I was swiftly losing.

I stumbled, and would have tumbled if I hadn’t lost my connection to gravity from being so thin and on the verge of oblivion. Instead I spun in the air on three axes, like a party balloon low on helium that’s been kicked. But my view of the world around me was still spherical. I had not altered my ability to see in every direction. It was just upside down and sideways and topsy turvy in quick succession.

Cassy simply stood there, feet apart, arms at her sides. And I couldn’t see her face, as I was now behind her.

I metaphysically sensed rather than felt several new bites sink into my rapidly evaporating substance, and felt an emotion from myself I can only describe as not again.

This time it would be permanent.

But they drew no more substance from me. 

They had no time to do so, yanked free of me along with all the others that had remained from my gauntlet.

And that’s when I realized that I had lost all sense of emotions around me before. During my marathon, the consumption of my being had drowned out all that I’d been eating for myself. So many of my senses had begun to dim, but that was the first to go. And now it returned in a burning flash.

The Swarm was panicked.

Cassy was a rich mix of determination, fury, horror, victory, fear, and quickly satiating hunger. As always, despite being an emanant, her emotions were complex and heady, slamming into my body and being like a storm.

The Overlords of Portland who were near enough for me to feed upon and sense them were aghast with trepidatious curiosity.

And the liminal teratovores that had been brought to bear against me, who were following in my wake, were pulling up short in surprise and terror.

As my spin slowed, I was able to focus on the side of Cassy’s face that I could see, and it looked like her mouth was wide open. She had the stance of someone pantomiming a huge cinematic superhuman inhale, but air was not what was moving.

The Swarm was.

It may have been projecting a manifestation of countless oversized insects, but it was still one being. And a part of it had come too close. And apparently, everyone could sense and maybe even see it being pulled past them from all corners of the property.

Cassy’s feeding, and the Swarm’s demise, took longer than I expected. 

Perhaps that was my sense of time being dilated by crisis, but I also noticed a few nearby teratovores become bored with it and look at me. Hungry eyes began to consider whether they could make it around this new threat to get to the wispy, melt-in-your-mouth morsel on the other side of her. Me.

I was still so tiny, but from the emotion thrown my way, particularly from Cassy, I gained enough weight to root my feet on the ground again and stop my spin. It didn’t matter, but I found myself facing the way I’d come. Perhaps I’d managed to land that way on purpose.

And then, against old instincts, I sidled over to my half human teratovore friend and hid behind her legs, now barely reaching her knees I’d shrunk so much.

I still looked like nothing that had ever walked the Earth before, and I wasn’t paying any mind to my form. There was too much to keep track of now, but it was also a moment of relative rest. I was too busy taking breaths of ambient emotion to care.

And then the last of the Swarm was drawn into Cassy’s mouth and I saw her stance change. Taking a real breath, she turned her head to sweep a gaze across all the monsters before her, to settle on the gigantic sea monster looming above her from the river. Maybe simply because of its size, she chose to address it as the leader of our adversaries.

I felt her smooth, breathy voice as a honeyed hum throughout my physicality as she said, “You can be next, if you like. There’s enough room in here for all of you.”

Words I had never expected to come from her, but unmistakably in her voice.

The Mesozoic sea monster blinked.

I could sense the other Overlords, the ones who were further away, crowding forward, pushing the liminals up against us or out of the way, to get in on the conversation. And Cassy waited for them to stop moving, appearing to me from my diminished vantage to cast a meaningful glance at anyone who got too close, halting them in their tracks.

The national guard were an afterthought by then. The helicopter still circled, but at a safe distance since the oversized plesiosaurid beast had emerged from the river. And with the change in demeanor of the monsters around them, with a gap surreptitiously provided up the main drive of the property, the troops retreated without retrieving their vehicles. It was clear that their weaponry had no appreciable effect.

Notably, the personnel in the surveillance van remained where they were, as far as I could tell.

When all the movement settled down and stopped, Cassy explained things further, “Chord is gone. Gresham is now mine. I will honor the old pact as if I made it with you, better than Chord was planning to do. I now know the full extent of his plans, and what you expected of him. I will happily answer any of your questions, but even after that meal I’m pretty sure I’m still hungry.” She looked around at them, and then crooned through what sounded like a tight lipped smile, “So, maybe think twice before crossing the streets in my city. And. Oh.” She turned her torso to point down at me. “This one? She’s under my protection now.”

I was perhaps too discombobulated with relief and confusion to pay much attention to the short conversation that occurred after that.

I felt a little more than disconcerted that my entire world seemed to be dominated and shaped entirely by monsters that ate other monsters. To the point that I’d had to become one to survive what had just happened.

I still wasn’t actually a teratovore, though. I don’t think I’ll ever be one.

I don’t have the reflexes.

Nor the audacity.

---

Walking unmolested through the Willamette Greenway toward the intersection where we’d meet Greg and Ayden, once they untangled themselves from the worst of the traffic, we remained in silence for a while.

To avoid alarming any people we encountered, I was slowly transforming my projection into the form of a German shepherd. Something that could be a little threatening, but normal, a dog a woman might have for protection. But that we were walking calmly away from that up north was itself something that would have unsettled some people. Should have unsettled them. Given them pause, at least.

But I couldn’t feel those emotions yet. Not from humans. It would take me some time and energy to switch back to that. I was using Cassy’s roiling emotions to fuel my current modest transformation, which still took longer than I was accustomed to. I’d need to settle myself into a power station and utilize Milk’s trick to get back up to a tiny fraction of my former speed and power.

I was just beginning to feel the air and ground again, when Cassy looked down at me and asked, “Are you OK?”

It was such an absurd question, I missed a step and had to skip to keep my pace.

Of course, she meant, was I OK aside from all the obvious. Did I have a kernel of OK inside me?

“No,” I said, in monster speak to avoid confusing the absent onlookers. Then I realized I had the wherewithal to explain. “I don’t like what the world has become while I was busy playing with my favorite humans. And I don’t like what I’ve become in order to deal with it.”

“Yeah, that’s a mood,” she muttered, looking back up to the darkened trail ahead of us.

It was lit by street lights, but it wasn’t like daylight. There were plenty of shadows. It didn’t bother me, but I could feel a hint of caution from Cassy. A human reflex.

It was kind of weird to feel that. And, specifically, to feel that while our positions were reversed from the last time we’d walked together.

Now she was protecting me. And while I highly doubted she’d gained enough experience from consuming Felicity, the Swarm, and apparently Chord, to match my own, she’d held her own in a way I don’t think I ever could.

She clearly now knew more about local emanant politics than I did. Or, she carried herself like she did, and maybe that’s all that was needed.

Well, and a powerful vortex of consumption for a gullet.

“How about you?” I asked, glancing unnecessarily up at her.

“We’re…” she paused and corrected herself. “I’m still making sense of things.” She remained quiet for several steps and then sighed. “I don’t like eating, you know? Not really even before, all this. But this kind of eating feels wrong. I’m a killer now. A murderer. Even though they’re monsters, they’re people. And I know just how much of a person each one is after I eat them. And I think I’m dissociating about it. But, uh. There are side effects, too. They kind of make up for that, but in a weird way.”

“You sort of become them,” I offered, though I’d caught that slip and thought I knew what was actually going on. “You get their memories, and also their behaviors and ways of thinking. It’s what happens to me. It’s hard to stay yourself, but they don’t exactly end. I get it.”

It was both an offer for her to accept an explanation she could use as cover if she needed to and a prompt. It worked more as a prompt.

“Yeah, that’s the first part of it,” she said. “But, uh… OK, so I get their memories and motives and all that, but not their abilities. When Felicity fed herself to me, I couldn’t jump into other people’s minds, and I still can’t. And now I can’t change other emanants like Chord could.” She looked over at me meaningfully, but I’d caught the meaning from her words before she did so. “But I don’t think my brain makes sense of the new memories and identities very well. It doesn’t accept them. But they also don’t die. I know more faster, but I’m still me.”

“I guess that makes sense,” I said, somewhat distracted by the emanant activity around us. I absently thought my suspicions were correct, but I wasn’t thinking about the ramifications. Our immediate safety felt more important.

Although the Overlords of Portland were not following us, and were making way for our retreat to Gresham, we had escorts. This organization amongst emanants was more orderly and regimented than I was used to seeing, or even contemplating. And it unsettled me.

Humanity had really influenced us.

And I knew from Fate Vine’s memories that our kind were more deeply entangled in humanity’s destiny than I’d known. Far more deeply.

And what had been here, with Chord’s little fiefdom, and what still was, with the Overlords of Portland, was so tiny. Just a sample of the political structure of the world.

Tomorrow would be the inaugural address of the President of the United States, a man who was reviled and feared by my friends and so many others. An obvious figurehead of a sweeping social movement built on a cultish long game of bigotry, exploitation, and highly questionable theology. And normally, I’d ignore that sort of thing. Such movements in human history have been frequent and fleeting to me (and an unfortunate source of sustenance, to be honest). But now I knew that everyone around me who was aware of things suspected that even his supporters and organization had emanant influences.

And, yep, that sparked an uncomfortable memory that hadn’t been mine before. Fate Vine had been one of them. And, so had Chord by partnership.

And this shift in politics would probably affect me personally. And certainly my human friends, of course. I was actually more worried about them, and how I could protect them, this time around.

The whole thing felt like the beginning of a new extinction level event, even if it might not be quite that.

Oh.

Oh, shit.

There was that thought again.

That surveillance van, if it had been part of Fate Vine’s machinations, had been equipped with new technology to detect and measure emanant presence.

What could that lead to?

I found myself looking back the way we had come.

“You seem really jittery,” Cassy said.

“It’s sort of my natural state,” I said, only half aware of my reaction. “I usually hide it better, though, I guess.”

“You’re so small.”

“Yeah,” I agreed. “I’ve lost so much of myself. I’m hardly here anymore. I need to find a source of energy so I can at least run when I need to.”

“Mm,” she acknowledged.

“One of those power stations that make a lot of buzzing noise would be a good source for me,” I told her. “There’s a lot of waste in those things. And it turns out that since Milk, uh, reconstituted me, I’m an enthalpiphage now. I’m still an affectivore, too. And a teratovore now, as well. But, uh, I’m basically Milk but with my memories instead.”

“I remember you explaining that earlier today. When we were still planning.”

“Right.”

She reached down and scratched behind my ears as if I was a real dog. It felt annoyingly good. “We can get you there. We can do that. Maybe we can even hunt down Chord’s livestock and feed them to you, if you’re comfortable with that. They’re mostly you, after all.”

I cringed, and looked up at her, “You’re okay with that idea?”

Cassy shrugged, “No. But we could still do it. Maybe you could just eat them partially, get your energy back, but leave them free to be themselves.”

“Maybe,” I reluctantly agreed.

Then I heard another voice come from her. A familiar one. And she was looking down at me with a raised eyebrow and a smirk I’d seen before.

“There is another option,” Felicity said. “A way that Cassy could protect you more securely while we hunt down your lost energy. It’d be an even bigger change for you, though.”

---

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