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fartcloudfartcloud · 2 days

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What about Logan meeting a reader with more dominance than him? Like what would he do, what would he want to do to them?

*giggles and wrings hands together* You've found my achilles heel mr.69

i dont know if this is what you wanted but im using this as my excuse to write FREAKY SUBMISSIVE LOGAN PORN!!!

warnings: Edging, Logan being mean and then begging on his knees a second later, i do say reader is "5 foot whatever" but if that doesnt apply just ignore it lmao, I do describe him as almost crying every now and then so if that turns u off this might be a skip

This is short (1.5k) but I love submissive men so do NOT be afraid to lmk if you want more :)

Personally, I was raised by a woman way too strong headed to ever be the stereotype of submission, and I'm sure a lot of you share the same sentiment in some way or another. I was always told to never let a man tell me what to do, and I can picture a reader being the exact same way.

Not mean, not bullheaded or rude, but strong. Tough. Logan had expected to blow through you like he had the rest of his team (or at least how he thought he did, though he was a lot tougher in his head than in action). But when he stood up to you, all 5 foot whatever of you, it felt like you were standing eye to eye.

You did exactly as you were taught, chin up and shoulders back as you spoke with confidence, and it easily had you slipping into positions of power in the mansion with ease. He admired you from afar for a while, watched as you seamlessly commanded a room, effortlessly organizing missions and handling insubordinate children like it was nothing.

Logan couldn't describe where the attraction came from. Originally, he thought it was his manly man urges to take a dominant woman and make her pine for him, but you and I both know that's not why you got him going.

If you were to ask him right now in his current scenario, he wouldn't be able to tell you which was his favorite part. Not sure if it's you under him in between his knees, looking up and fluttering your pretty eyelashes at him like has something to behold; or if it's your firm grip around his cock, effortlessly bringing him so close to the edge before you manhandle him back down to earth.

It had only been once so far, but you had gotten him bad. Your hands all sloppy and wet working up and down his length with vigor, your filthy loudmouth a never-ending record of come on baby, let me see it, let go for me.

All that build up, just for you to -right as he whimpers out a breathless "going to fucking cum"- halt all action and grip your flingers tightly around his base.

It ripped a deep growl from his chest, the feeling almost painful as his finish line is so rudely ripped from him.

He should've known, he knows you too well too have assumed he could get you all pretty on your knees without some anterior motive.

"You want something?" You ask him innocently, that stupid pretty smile still spread across your face. He grinds his teeth as the pressure in his stomach slowly simmers down, not enough air in his lungs to formulate a response.

You slowly start stroking him again, an agonizing pace that has his cock flushed a deep red and practically throbbing in your hand. The sound is pornographic and it's all too much for him.

He's whining now, head thrown back and noises getting increasingly high pitched as you keep his release just barely out of his reach. If he could focus enough to use his ears, he’d hear you laughing at him.

He so rudely tries to interrupt you, tries to bring his own hands down to just get himself there, but you wouldn't allow it. You'd make him sit on his hands if you had to, and when you grabbed each wrist and planted them next to his thighs and told him to "stay," he knew better than to disobey.

"Gotta ask for the things you want, Wolvie." You remind him. It's just basic manners, really, frankly he should be thanking you for still touching him after being so rude.

"Don't gotta ask for shit," He spits out through clenched teeth.

See, that was Logans problem. He had too much fucking pride, needed someone to teach him a lesson. Guess today he needs it to be you.

"Mm you're right, Logan," you've got a smile on your face as you speak that Logan can't read. Either way, he's scared.

None of it matters though as your hand picks up speed and pressure, resuming your prior ministrations as your fingers suddenly massage every spot with precision. His breath is gone as his head hangs limp on his shoulders, his fingers gripping the comforter like it would save him from your attack.

"You don't gotta do shit," You're talking but he's not listening. It's all too good, he's being hurdled towards his orgasm faster than ever, he couldn't hear your jests even if he wanted to over the pressure in his ears. He’s gonna cum, he's so fucking close, and your hands feel so fucking good so perfect and it's all so much and-

"But neither do I," and just like that you're off him. Not like before, this time you stand up and physically take a step back from him, watching his form head to toe as he's forced to cope with his second lost orgasm.

The groan he lets out is primal, you expect to see him start ripping the pillows and sheets with how his writhing on your bed. He’s on his back twitching, practically crying from the ache pulsing through the center of his body. It hurts, he's so desperate it physically hurts, his hips rutting into the air in search of anything.

He has no sense anymore, no control over any of his limbs as he falls to the floor and crawls to you, the only thing he can make out in his fogged-up mind is need.

"Please baby," He begs mindlessly, "You're so fucking mean to me," He's kissing your thighs and pulling at your hands, buttering you up and wallowing in any contact you'll give him.

Neither of you know how it happened, know at what point in the night he broke and became a whimpering messy puppy, but God did it feel good to watch, to see him yearn for you so desperately.

His eyes are teary eyed and hazy as he speaks, "I'll do anything princess I'm sorry," He kisses you palm and knuckles and up your wrists, "Please baby I'm sorry I'm sorry just fucking-" His hips involuntarily grind down, his thighs twitching and his hard cock bobbing between his legs. "Please touch me baby I can't fucking take it,"

He’s a mess, his cock is leaking all over his thighs and the floor, and his lips won't leave your body, lathing kisses anywhere he can, worshipping your body as you stand still and look down at him.

"Why can't you just behave the first time?" You ask, wrapping your fingers in his hair and gently tugging his hair back, making him look at you as he speaks.

"Was just playin baby," He kisses the wrist of the hand in his hair, "shouldn't have teased you baby I'm sorry, please baby please," his arms are wrapped around your thighs as he nuzzles into you. It's pathetic, and if anyone else ever saw him like this he's sure he could just explode on the spot.

"Get back on the bed." You order, taking pleasure in the way he scrambles back to his spot, his legs spread for you and his hands pressed back into their spot next to his hips. He’s disheveled, his hair falling over his face and sticking to his forehead, a thin layer of sweat covering him head to toe. Youd keep him like this forever if you could.

You decide to take mercy on him though, the sight of him on his knees begging like a dog more than enough to satisfy your cravings. Now, all you wanted was to do was so how pretty he looked once he actually finished for you.

You find your spot between his legs again, looking up at him all pretty just like before. God you were going to ruin him.

"Go on. Tell me what you want," you give him one last instruction before giving in. His breath is shaky, his words coming out in a whole different tone than before. He sounds small, on the brink of tears as he whimpers out one last desperate, "please," before you spit in your hand and wrap it back around his cock.

Instantly he's gone. He doesn't even have the energy to moan or cry, he's just paralyzed. His eyes roll back and his hand clamps over his mouth, no air left in his lungs as the most mind-numbing wave of pleasure works up from his core. He wasn't even cumming yet and it already was making him shake.

He should've just trusted you, should've known that you'd make him feel so fucking good if he just listened. Never again, he'll never say no to you ever again.

By the time his orgasm actually hit him, he's laid out flat on his back on the mattress, his mouth dropped open, and his eyes squeezed shut. Both his hands are wrapped in the sheets, stuck in place by his claws that slowly inch out with every rope of cum that comes from him. There's no sound until it's all out of him, your hands not stopping till he's whining and pushing you away from him.

You watch as he recovers, his chest rapidly rising and falling as he desperately tries to get air back into his lungs, aftershocks still tumbling through him. His eyes flutter back open, not enough energy to focus on anything else though as his claws start sheathing back into his knuckles.

He sits up as you return from the bathroom with a washcloth, gently cleaning off his stomach and anything that was coated in a thin layer of his finish. He’s sensitive, hissing and gasping as you gently clean his slowly softening length and thighs.

Once all evidence is taken care of, you look up at him with soft eyes. He looks so amazing like this, his eyes can't focus on anything while his lips slowly pull into a big dopey grin. You let him take you in for a moment, just staying like this with him till he has the strength to speak.

"Jesus Christ," Is all he says before he presses a chaste kiss to your lips before falling back onto the bed.

"Are you going to make it?" You tease, cuddling up under his arm where he lay and resting your head on his bicep.

"I don't think so," He giggles, enough oxygen in his system now, enough strength in him to wrap himself around you and kiss your head. "You were a lot closer to killing me then you think,"

You giggle and smack his chest, "keep being mean like that and next time I actually will,"

#logan howlet x reader #logan howlett #wolverine x reader #writing #logan howlet smut #logan wolverine #wolverine smut #hugh jackman #hugh jackman x reader #logan x reader #Submissive!Logan #ask

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aritsukemo · 3 days

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I don’t know if your requests are open, but I simply love your writing! May I have a Zhongli/Venti/Xiao Prompt with a reader who’s secretly a god from another world?

Finding out you're secretly a god | Genshin Impact

( @scar8o )

Summary: After your powers are revealed in a heat of the moment decision, you and your partner have a much needed conversation..

Characters: Xiao, Zhongli, and Venti

Warnings: Nothing much. Mentions of reader facing discrimination in Xiao's and slight tears towards the end of Xiao's as well.

A/N: AGHHHH this took months to finally write, but I'm glad I finally got the push I needed to finish this! I'm sorry you had to wait so long and I hope you enjoy this little collection of drabbles I put together! :D

A yellowish-orange shade was cast over Teyvat just like it would any other evening. Nothing had changed; the wind was still blowing, wildlife was as and as wild as ever, and the grass was still the same old greenish tinge.

Well, today, Xiao supposes that something has changed. For the first time in years, there was complete silence between you two. Being the chatterbox that you were, it was never like this since you're always rambling on about whatever popped into your head—whether that'd be how your day went, what you should do tommorow, or even the most trivial things like which colored cloth you should use to wipe off your weapons.

But that particular evening, you didn't utter a word. You simply sat there, knees to your chest as you gazed at the sun slowly setting upon the horizon. It felt odd for Xiao—awkward if he were to be so mundane. At the same time, he had no way of relieving this odd, awkward tension from the air. He had so many question stirring in his head that could at least fill the air with something of substance, and yet, he felt hesitant to voice any of them.

But he has to say something. If he doesn't, he fears that he'll never get his questions answered. So, without looking your way, he asks, "Who..are you really?"

You don't answer immediately and for a moment, Xiao thought you didn't hear him at all. Before he can repeat himself, however, he hears your voice, low and uncharacteristically sullen as you tell him, "Someone who doesn't belong here.."

He doesn't realize it, but upon hearing your response and looking over at you, his eyes softened—and just like the snow he used to munch down to prevent himself from starving to death, his golden hues glistened in the light of the setting sun. He didn't know what to say to that. Or rather, he couldn't think of anything to say that would be comforting to your ears.

That's one the things about you that he's fond of, but is also envious of. You always knew the right thing to say even when he thought you didn't. It's one of his favorite things about you..

"Look, I'm sorry for lying to you for so long.." You said before heaving a long, tired sigh. One that sounded as if you've been holding it for ages, "In my own world, people despised me and this power so much so that they tried everything they could to make my life miserable.."

"Adults, kids, girls, boys, women, and men.. Even when they were more different than the glaxies above, the one thing that was always the same was the way they looked at me.. That deep swirl of hatred in their eyes as they stared at me..like I was some kind of monster.. No matter what I did for them, it never changed," Xiao chooses to ignore the way your voice cracks midway through your sentence—the signal that the glass dam inside you was beginning to crack..

"When I got here, I saw this as my brethren relieving me of that pain..like a fresh start. I was so happy..and so, so scared. I was terrified of the past happening again so I swore to do everything in my power to keep that part of me hidden for as long as I was able.."

At this point, he could see those crystal tears rolling down your face, the translucent trail they left glimmering in the sun's glow. He's never seen them before. You never allowed him to and now, he's grateful that you never did because the sight of you crying made his chest feel heavy and empty, causing it to ache. The sight was painful. It felt wrong associating this feeling with something so..human, but it's the only thing to describe this black hole forming where his heart's supposed to be..

And in attempt to fill that feeling, he finally asks, "Do you think this power of yours will bring harm to the people of Liyue?" You finally glance at him, confusion written all over that tear-stricken face of yours. He merely looks at you with expectancy, so you eventually croak out a small, "No.."

"Do you ever think that you'll try to take over Liyue and force it's people under your thumb?" He threw another question at you, and this time, you answered quickly, blurting out an offended sounding, "Of course not! Do you think I would?"

"No," He answered immediately, "But as the protector of this land, I had to make sure we were on the same page before I said anything else," And he gets up. Your crystalized eyes follow after him, confusion beginning to swirl along with a headache—the result caused by your near-breakdown just now.

"Wha.." You begin, but your voice dies in your throat as he offers you a hand and looks you in the eyes like he would any other day—as if everything was normal.

"You said before that after all of this was over, you'd drag me off somewhere to 'wind down', didn't you? Well, I'm allowing you this once to do so without having any resistance on my end," He clarifies, and that's when it finally clicks in your mind; nothing has changed. The world is still spinning, the once clear, orange sky has turned blue and starry. Xiao is still willing to reach out to you, still willing to stare at you with adoration and love, and be around you. He still sees you as simply Y/n.

And you find yourself brought to tears all over again. Yet this time, it's due to sheer relief instead of anxiety and agony. It's because of the happiness you feel as you reach out your hand and let yourself be helped up like some damsel..

..And it's all becase of Xiao, who's kind enough to see you as something other than a monster. Something lesser than a divine god or goddess, but as simply another person of the land who he should protect.

"So when did you figure it out?" You asked to the man who sat across from you at the table—although to others it seemed as though you were talking to your tea from how your eyes were trained on it the entire time you spoke, pupils following every ripple it made with every slight of your hand.

The man across from you—who you've called many endearments over the years of knowing him—simply hummed at your question, taking the time to grab his own tea cup before answering just as casually, "Some time ago. I've had some theories of my own for a while now, but..outside assistance helped to point me in the right direction."

"So the traveler told you," You stated, your tone leaving no room for him to lie or say otherwise—a silent testament that it was futile to try and deny something you already seen as a fact, but he attempted anyways.

"Not exactly," He said, "It was a slip of the tongue on Paimon's part, a small one at that, I barely noticed it myself." And this time, you hum, closing your eyes as you at last take a sip of your tea—which has long since gotten cold since it arrived at your table.

You take a long, slow sip, as if you were buying time, or maybe, simply trying to collect all the thoughts swirling in your head and condense them in a coherent, civil sentence. Whatever it is, Zhongli allows you that time and patiently waits for you to finally set your cup down again..

"So? What do you plan to do with me now that you know?" The question comes off blunt—slightly threatening to the unintelligent ears, but it doesn't phase Zhongli. After all, he knows that you weren't threatening him, but more rather felt threatened. Similar to a cornered bunny who's only defense weapons are its fluffy, dull nubs.

"Nothing at all," He says, and at last your eyes cross the table to look him in the eyes. He does the same, granting you the same favor.

There's a moment of silence between you two in that moment. You silently demand an answer to his previous answer and the light thrumming of your fingers against the smooth, expensive wood gave away your impatience, your growing anxiety, and most importantly your fear. It's a discomforting sight to see of his usually calm lover, and so, he's quicker to respond to you in hopes of relieving your tension.

"You hold me in such high regard, dear. And while I'm flatter, may I remind you that I'm simply a consultant. I have no power to do anything other than grant you a comfortable resting place to lay your head when you pass," He closes his eyes, breaking eye contact with you to bless you with a small, polite smile, "A question like that would be more fit for the Tianquan, would it not?"

"In my humble opinion, though, I think it best if you didn't stir a pot that has already settled. Going to Lady Ningguang over something she knows nothing about is not needed, don't you agree?"

He opens his eyes again to look at you, only having the luxury to catch the tail end of your reaction to him deciding to sweep this under the rug before your expression smoothens out and a smile eases onto your face and your fingers move to lace around your cup once again..

"I suppose you're right. Forget I said anything then."

"Who knew my windblume could be even more extraordinary than I once thought?" He told you under that massive oak tree—The Symbol of Mondstadt's Hero—after sneaking away with you, who was just praised the entire evening for your heroic deeds.

"You flatter me," You said before letting out a chuckle. Venti chose not to comment on how it sounded drier than how the fruits up in Celestia look, "Really, I don't deserve such praise.."

"On the contrary! You were Mondstadt's savior today! Not to mention mines!" He said cheerily, "If it weren't for you, Mondstadt would've been robbed of this bard's melodious melodies!"

You found yourself huffing at the absurdity of his words before you can stop yourself. Making up for the slip-up with a half-hearted, agreeing hum.

"You're a fool.. Having a dangerous being such as myself leisurely lay on you like this.." You whisper into his thigh as you turn on your side, your voice muffling due to half of your face being smothered by the puff of his shorts. Your comment was heard nonetheless and earned a chuckle from the bard.

"Love makes one do foolish things," He simply replies, before you feel something cold and smooth against your cheek. Your eyes flutter open and out of the corner of your eyes you see the familar red hue that you would only see plastered on one of the delicious treats the Cuihua Trees so graciously gift Teyvat.

You take the apple from his grasp, once again laying flat on your back as you hold the apple above you as if to tantalize yourself.

"I'm serious. You shouldn't be this nice to me anymore, Barbatos," Another slip of the tongue—one promptly ignored and immediately pushed to back of both of your minds, "I'm nothing but a weapon of destruction."

"That you may have been in the past, but as of now, you're simply a bartender at Angel's Share who's fallen head over heels for a skillful bard; me," He replies after swallowing the chewed, sweet chunks in his mouth that came from his apple—which has already been half-eaten at this point.

And you find yourself huffing again. This time at the realization that he was right—at least the part about being hopelessly in love with him anyways..

"You had a long day, so why not you rest after you eat? I'll strum you a gentle tune that'll carry you away to pleasant dreams, ehehe~!" He suddenly suggest—an obvious attempt at deading the conversation where it stands before you say something too depressing to brush off easily. You pretend to not notice, deciding to accept your defeat for now, as you nod, finally bringing the apple down to your lips and taking a bite, being careful to chew the bite thoroughly before swallowing..

"That sounds nice.. Maybe resting my eyes wouldn't be so bad."

Dividers were made by me, pictures used are from Pinterest, post formatting is inspired by @xxsabitoxx

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ctghost · 3 days

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okokok i can't stop thinking about @yan-randomfandom 's godling fic so here's some drabbles on ford's thoughts.. this can be some sort of continuation of this! (P.s i hope i'm not bothering by tagging you jdkdkrjk 😭😭)

part 1 part 2

visualization that inspired me

"Well i'll see you later, pines, until then!"

Ford wakes up.

You really aren't just a piece of his dream. But he can't just believe fact that you aren't bill. Second dimensional, wearing a bowtie, and all that. Who would know if he could just be wearing some sort of bizarre skin?

But then he starts thinking what you just called him. Pines. Bill never called him that. All his years studying and time with bill, he had never heard anything about a deity like you. Could you possibly be from the same dimension as bill? If so, wouldn't that mean you're bill's ally? That's got to be the only logical reason here. You're likely trying to trick him to be able to make a deal with you. Well that sure isn't gonna work now.

But he had to be sure.. maybe this night he'll try to get some answers out of you.

"You're not here to make a deal, are you?"

"Deals aren't my forte,"

"I do wishes."

"Is that so? Well then, how many wishes?"

"One." His eyebrows furrowed at that. "Bill-"

"I am not Bill Cipher."

"You could use your wish to help me gain my memories back, or you could use it for yourself, it's your choice, really."

After a little more talk, he knows now that you are likely not lying, and that really don't have any recollections of your own past, and even your name. Still, he couldn't just trust you. Everyone knows what happened the last time that happens. He still needs to fish out as many answers as he could get.

But you probably even don't have much to give anyway, since all your replies are just "i don't know" or "i don't remember". He became slightly frustrated at your lack of vary answers, but guess he should appreciate you not trying to twist any truth there is.

Back in the mindscape, Ford's deep in his thoughts as he observes you moving around almost boredly. There's just so many questions.

If he really used his wish to get your memories back, would you be indebt to him? Or would you try to burn the world down just like bill?

He let out a small sigh, but soon a realization hit him, You can read his mind. If bill has that power, you could do the same-

He suddenly jumped, alarmed. You paused what you were doing and looked at him. "You alright there, pines?"

He was about to retaliate- but seeing your almost sincere and confused look on just a singular eye, he calms down abit from his overthinking. Just because you have similiar physical traits, you're not bill. Atleast not as far as he knows now with your memory loss.

You can't hurt him. Not in the mindscape anyway.

"I'm fine." He finally replied, after seeing that you were still staring at him.

He should probably start investigating to see if there's anything out there that could tell him more about you.

Aka, ford keeps comparing you to his ex muse after first few meetings

#gravity falls #gravity falls x reader #stanford pines #yandere ford pines #ford pines x reader #yandere stanford pines #stanford pines x reader #ford pines #yandere gravity falls #txt #my art #writing

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throneofsapphics · 3 days

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against the contract, chapter one

poly!Feysandriel x f!Reader

summary: If they were genuinely bad people, it would be so much easier to kill them. Signing a special contract to work with Azriel, Feyre, and Rhysand turns out nowhere near expected. You were a bit of fun that became their solace and escape, they were supposed to be an easy assignment that turned into your living nightmare

warnings: d/s dynamics seen, bondage, bdsm, piercing kink, needles, blood, toys

word count: 2022

a/n: here we go!! let me know if you'd like to be added to the taglist, next chapter comes 10/1 :) series masterlist

There's a type of power in entering a room and having everyone stop to look at you. Rhysand, the devil of Velaris, knew that all too well, and loved every second of it. A man like him was made for the dark and night, but that didn't mean he couldn't shine in it. Tonight, however, someone else was capturing everyone's attention, and he intended to figure out who and what made them so enticing. You’d slowly gained notoriety, and he made it his job to know all players in his city.

A single question to the right person, someone who recognized him, got him directions to a back room, he entered with his right hand wrapped around Feyre's waist, keeping her flush against his side. Azriel kept pace beside him on the left, a hairsbreadth too close to be just friendly, his shoulder brushing against his every few steps.

The room they found was bathed in red light, throwing a ... sexual energy over everything. Intentional, he was sure of it. A leather topped platform stood on top of another platform at the front of the room, elevated perhaps two feet or so off the ground.

Right there, kneeling on the leather, that’s where he got his first glance at you. With your eyes cast downward, hair braided back, hands behind your back, you made the picture-perfect submissive. He couldn't see behind you, but he could imagine you had perfect positioning from that angle as well, either your fingers interlocked, or opposite forearms grasped. He imagined there wasn't much about you that wasn't perfect.

A dark haired, tanned woman stood before you, circling. You kept perfectly still. He spotted the tray on a small stool to the left. Needles, jewelry, swabs, alcohol wipes, and everything else needed for a piercing. His interest rose more, especially as he noticed Feyre’s head tilt up, her body pushed lightly against his arm as she straightened for a better view.

You’d never see the three of them, cloaked in darkness as they were but you shone under that spotlight.

There was no announcement, no grand words as it began, but the quiet clink of a needle caught everyone’s attention. Each bit of this was intentional, he knew it, to wrap someone deep into a web and for once he found himself wanting to let go, to heed resistance, to be swarmed and brought into the fold.

Rhysand thought he caught the briefest hint of nerves, but the woman’s hand cupped your cheek and you melted. The woman stood behind you, one hand tilting your chin up, leaning down to whisper something in your ear.

“Yes,” you replied breathily, voice carrying across the room. No honorific, if this woman was your Dominant you would’ve used the title. Rhysand couldn’t help hoping you weren’t claimed.

She pinched your nipple, her mouth caressing the side of your neck, and he wished it was his hands and mouth on you. Another female came on stage and he watched as the two worked you, twisting the platform to show the elegant double column ties down your arms, tied off to a metal ring on the floor. Your legs were tied individually, your calves flush against the backs of your thighs, tied off to the floor as well. Pinned in place. The separate ties made sense as you spread your legs, revealing a fucking beautiful cunt, folds already glistening. He didn’t bother shifting to hide his hardening cock, especially as Feyre squirmed next to him. He knew Azriel wouldn’t move an inch, just as well as he knew there was no way the male was entirely unaffected by you.

As the second woman brought out a vibrator and crouched slightly off to the side not to block your view, before clicking a button and pressing it deep against your clit, your teeth dug into your bottom lip, fighting to stay still. The buzzing filled the room, along with your panted breaths.

The first woman ripped open an alcohol swab, and Rhysand shoved his free hand into his pocket to hide how his fingers curled. Azriel shot him an amused yet still aloof look, and he fought the impulse to roll his eyes like a child might.

“Stop distracting me,” Feyre hissed and elbowed him. He hadn’t realized he was gripping her so tightly, he loosened his fingers a tad, a brush of guilt creeping in. “Oh stop that,” Feyre placed her hand on top of his. His darling was a sight, as always, clad in a sheer gossamer dress, resting just at her mid-thighs with a plunging neckline.

He hadn’t realized he’d been stuck staring at her until she spoke again. “You’re about to miss it.”

Rhysand’s head snapped forward fast enough his vision blurred for a second, clearing just in time to see pure ecstasy crossing your face as the needle pierced your skin.

“I want her,” Feyre breathed after the second piercing. What or in this case who his Feyre darling wanted, he did his best to be sure she got.

Needles still in both of your breasts, you came with your head thrown back, a silent scream leaving your lips, and his newest obsession was born.

You changed into comfortable clothes, leaving the jewelry in for now. You liked having it in for a few hours after each performance. There was something to be said about solidifying the experience and memory in your mind.

The door flew open, your lips parted to give a greeting to whoever it might be, but your words froze in your mouth. It was unusual for anyone to re-enter the locker rooms, especially at this time. Comically slowly, you turned around to face the intruder, hand reaching for the knife in your bag. You relaxed as the smell of expensive but not very tastefully applied perfume hit you.

“Morrigan wants to work with you again next time,” Francine, the club owner, said brusquely, striding into the changing room. You pause. It was strange for her to be in here, stranger to come for something that could’ve been a text.

“She told me,” you said slowly. The blonde hadn’t said that directly, but she’d said something close enough earlier.

“One of these days,” Mor tapped your shoulder, “I’ll convince Emerie to scene with both of us.”

“Poor me,” you groaned over-dramatically, but in reality that sounded quite nice.

“Excuse me, more like lucky you,” ruby red lips smiled at you over the edge of a wine glass. A sensuous and promising smile.

A promise you’d quickly take her up on another day, but right now. “I’m out tonight,” you waved a hand over your chest. “Open wounds and all.”

“Pity,” something, perhaps someone - probably Emerie, distracted the blonde and she pressed a kiss to your cheek before darting off behind you. Figuring that was a good time as any to leave, you tipped the bartender and left.

Francine rubbed at her nose, shoving her red framed glasses up. Her matching red lips pursed into a frown. “Well. Since you’re here, I told them – all three of them,” she emphasized, “ that you don’t take contracts, but they insisted on offering to you.” You tried not to show your offense at her scoff. “And that it remained sealed,” she sighed as if it was a massive inconvenience, waving the letter in the air. That caught your attention. It wouldn’t be the first time someone offered you a contract, but it would be the first time it made it to you. Usually Francine refused on your behalf, per your instructions, of course. But ... the look on her face. There was a mixture of expectation, and perhaps a hint of fear. You’d never known anything or anyone to scare that overbearing woman before. She ran a sex club for Gods sake.

Her look implied she expected you to open it there and share. You remembered her scoff, the mocking way she said ‘you.’ No way. The nosy bird didn’t need these particular details. You enjoyed your privacy, and suspected these clients did too. Maybe a contract was just what you needed to take your mind off things, but you knew that would be very different from the ‘performances,’ you usually did a few times a week for the club. Francine liked to call you her ‘greatest discovery.’ You had choicer words for the woman, and generally kept them to yourself.

You took the sealed envelope from her hand and tucked it into your bag. “I’ll look it over tonight and get back to you tomorrow.”

A mix of disappointment and relief followed by a tight lipped smile and short nod as she pivoted, stalking from the room. You gave an overly cheery wave behind her back. Better than flipping her off. Too many mirrors.

You went through your entire getting-home routine first. The Domme or Dom from your scenes always provided excellent aftercare, but it never hurt to love on yourself a little. After a shower, removing the jewelry from earlier and cleaning out the small wounds, a meal, and a couple glasses of water you finally felt ready.

Flipping through it, it looked pretty standard - nothing too crazy or out of the ordinary. Not that you had much knowledge or experience with them, but nothing crazier than what you expected.

L.1 The Submissive will live with the Dominants for the duration of the contract.

You frowned at the line. Vague. You'd expected perhaps a bit more detail on that, but maybe it would be discussed when you met them. Gods, you really were thinking about taking this contract. Your very first one.

Your mind wandered as you gazed over the words. If they were ugly, would you back out? You didn't think Francine would offer you a contract with someone especially hideous, but she had hinted they were very much VIP clients. Three of them, too.

Spine straightening as you made it to the “Rules” section, you bent your head a bit closer to the paper.

The Submissive will obey any instructions given by the Dominants immediately without hesitation or reservation and in an expeditious manner. The Submissive will agree to any sexual activity deemed fit and pleasurable by the Dominants excepting those activities which are outlined in hard limits (Appendix 2). They will do so eagerly and without hesitation.

Reading through the paper, seeing the official language, sent heat to your stomach. Part of you was turned on by this, the idea of having a semi-legal contract entitling individuals to your submission and you to their dominance. You bounced one leg, there was so much to think about, but it seemed so simple. A voice, one who’d gotten you into both good and bad situations, whispered at you to ‘just take it.’

The Submissive will not enter into any sexual relations with anyone other than the Dominants. The Submissive will conduct themself in a respectful manner at all times, unless otherwise requested.

Unless otherwise requested ... you frowned and highlighted that section. What the hell did that mean? Perhaps some kind of roleplay. You put a question mark next to it.

There was a section for you to fill in your hard limits, easy enough considering you’d had those memorized for years, having been asked the question frequently enough.

You flipped back up through, double checking for the section on safewords. Satisfied with “Green, Yellow, and Red,” you didn’t mark anything on that page.

All of this was thrilling. Invigorating. Lighting an energy you hadn’t felt at this intensity in so, so long. Not since him.

Ashamedly, what really caught your attention, in the end, was just how much they were willing to pay for your time. You could live comfortably for years off of that sum without having to work. Perhaps this is what would send you straight to hell, but in that moment you didn’t particularly care what they looked like, as long as they obeyed the rules set on paper, so could you.

Azriel, crouched in the shadows on a neighboring roof, watched through your parted blinds as you highlighted and noted the contract. Good girl.

series taglist: @rowaelinsdaughter @bookishbroadwaybish @lilah-asteria @nestaismommy @yeonalie @daycourtofficial @emidpsandia @thelov3lybookworm @justasillylittlegoofyguy @aactuaaltraash @hannzoaks @angelbunny222 @littlest-w01f @pandabiiissh

acotar taglist: @rowaelinsdaughter @bookishbroadwaybish @nestaismommy @erencvlt @book-obsessed124 @callsigns-haze

general taglist: @lilah-asteria @yeonalie @I-am-a-lost-girl16

#feysandriel x reader #poly!feysandriel x reader #rhysand x reader #azriel x reader #feyre archeron x reader #acotar fic #acotar smut #acotar x reader

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tamas-love · 3 days

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（ 제목 ）THIS WAY.

PRESENT.⠀⟡⠀in which, sunghoon, your boyfriend, gets jealous when he found out you hung out with one of his friends instead of himself.

（ 박성훈 ） — pairing = fem!reader x possessivebf!sunghoon ୨୧ warning = jealousy, possessive, threatening ୨୧ wc = 1,301 (??)

a/n : sadly.. unfinished. i didn't know how to carry it on !! i'm such a bad writer LMAO but, writers, if you see this and you think you want to finish it please ask me and i'll definitely let you !! for now, it's unfinished!!

click me! ↓

ㅤ𝐈𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐒 a random Saturday, and Jay had offered to take you out to a Korean BBQ for lunch on him. The food was delicious, and being the foodie you are, you took a picture and uploaded it to your Instagram story. Sunghoon, your boyfriend, happened to see it and immediately texted you.

Hoon What is this? [one attachment]

Hoon Why didn't you tell me you met with him?

Hoon Y/n answer me now.

ㅤYou could practically feel his jealousy and possessiveness through the phone, as if he was right in front of you. But, at the moment, you were sitting at the bar while it was 11pm--sipping on the drink Jay bought you. You quickly texted Sunghoon back upon seeing his message,

Y/n Sunghoon we just got lunch together. It wasn't anything too important, so I didn't tell you about it.

ㅤSunghoon quickly read your reply, and that only made him even more upset. He lout a frustrated growl and began typing his response back.

Hoon 'Just lunch'? You shouldn't be alone with him. He shouldn't be paying for your food, I do that. You're my girlfriend, not his.

Hoon Don't let him touch you, or even get close to you.

ㅤHe sent back in a very firm manner. As Sunghoon waited for your reply after sending that text, he started becoming more and more agitated. His mind was racing with jealousy and possessive thoughts, and he couldn't stand the idea of another guy spending time with you, let alone buying you stuff.

ㅤ"I swear if she doesn't answer soon.." He muttered to himself as he continued waiting for your response.

ㅤHe wanted to know why you didn't tell him about the lunch and why you let Jay pay for your meal. He gripped his phone tightly, as if he was trying to break it.

Hoon And, you should've told me about it. Don't give me 'it's just lunch'. Like I said, you're my girlfriend Y/n.

Hoon You're not just some girl, and you're definitely not Jay's girl.

ㅤHe couldn't stand the idea of you being with another man, the thought alone filled him with jealousy. You sighed, shaking your head in disbelief,

Y/n Sunghoon, you're being dramatic. Far too dramatic. I'm at the bar right now, I just want a drink so leave me alone.

ㅤBefore you could see his reply, you quickly powered off your phone so he wouldn't bother you. Sunghoon's eyebrow twitched in irritation as he read your text, he couldn't believe your attitude, and the fact that you had the audacity to shut off your phone and tell him to leave you alone.

ㅤHe clenched his firsts, feeling a mixture of frustration and anger. He couldn't let this slide. Not when he knew guys would be eyeing you. He couldn't let them get near you. You were his.

Hoon Dramatic, huh? You're out with another man alone, drinking and shutting me out?

Hoon I don't think so.

ㅤHe put his phone in his pocket and got up to get his keys, starting up his car and driving over to the bar he usually could find you at. Once Sunghoon arrived at the bar, he quickly ran in as his eyes scanned the area for you. He was on a mission to find and confront you, to make you understand that he was in charge.

ㅤAs he walked deeper into the bar, casually sipping a drink. He made his way over to you, his footsteps firm and steady as the music of the bar filled his ears and yours. "What are you doing? Drinking and ignoring your boyfriend, aren't you?" He said sternly, eyes fixated on you as he stood directly behind you at the bar.

ㅤHe slowly took a seat on the stool behind you, leaning against the counter and staring hard into your eyes. "Explain." He growled, wrapping his arm around your waist and pulling you onto his lap.

ㅤYou looked at him in surprise, furrowing your eyebrows and whining at him. "Hoon!" You exclaimed, confused with how fast he got here. "You were fucking speeding weren't you?" You huffed at him, immediately going to hit his chest. Sunghoon chuckled at you,

ㅤHis grip on your waist firm, keeping you on his lap. He smirked slightly as he looked into your eyes, completely unfazed by your attempt at hurting him. "So what if I was? I care more about you than some stupid speeding ticket."

ㅤHe said confidently, not even batting an eye as he continued to stare at you. His eyes dropped down to the glass in your hand, his thick brows furrowing. "And who bought you that drink?"

ㅤSunghoon asked, his voice dropped to a low inquiry. His grip on your waist tightened a bit as he spoke, as if trying to keep you from even moving. [unfinished]

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blingblong55 · 2 days

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Sacred Sin- Simon Riley and John Price NSFW

---- F!Reader, MDNI, 18+, priest!au, priest!Ghost, priest!Price, sinner!reader, hierophilia, threesome, oral!sex, unprotected!sex, P-in-V ----

A/N: a preview of how hot kinktober could be ;)

The heavy oak door of the confessional creaks as you push it open, stepping into the dimly lit, narrow booth. Your heart pounds against your ribcage, the weight of your sins dragging every footstep like chains tethered to your ankles. A thick veil of incense hangs in the air, mixing with the faint scent of polished wood and stone, wrapping you in an oppressive warmth.

You sit, your hands trembling in your lap, staring at the thin lattice screen that separates you from Father Price on the other side. His voice––deep, gravelly, commanding––pierces through the silence, stirring something primal within you. "What brings you here, child?" His words echo, each syllable dripping with both judgment and expectation.

You hesitate. Your mind is a whirlwind of thoughts, none of them pure, none of them righteous. You've been here before, seeking redemption, hoping that maybe one more confession will wipe your slate clean. But it never does. You keep coming back, drawn to the church and them–– Father Price and Father Riley–– like a moth to a flame. The desire to repent was always overshadowed by a deeper, darker hunger you couldn't quite put into words.

The screen casts a shadow over his face, leaving just a glimpse of his stern eyes,k watching. Waiting. You know Simon is somewhere nearby, always looming, always watching. His presence lingers in the back of your mind–– silent, unyielding, like the cross he bears across his broad back.

"Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned." The words spill from your lips, as familiar as a prayer. Your throat tightens, heat rising to your cheeks as your thoughts betray you, lingering on their hands––rough, capable, strong, fuck this is so wrong. You've never seen Simon's face fully, but you imagined it—many times.

John shifts in his seat, the rustling of fabric against wood unnerving you. You wonder if he can hear the unspoken guilt in your voice, the way your body betrays you just by being near them. His gaze feels like a weight, pressing down on your chest, making breathing harder.

"How long has it been since your last confession?" Father Price's tone is sharp, almost scolding, but underneath it, there's something else––a tension, a strain you can't ignore. You wonder if it's you that brings it out of him. You hope it is.

You feel Simon's eyes on you now, too. Even though you can't see him, his presence wraps around you, invisible yet undeniable, like the judgment of the heavens themselves. You've always been weaker when they're together, their combined power enough to make you feel vulnerable, exposed..and horny. And you hate it. You love it.

The silence stretches, thick like the incense clouding the air, and you feel their eyes on you––two pairs of eyes hidden by cloth and shadow, yet searing into your skin. Your fingers fidget in your lap, brushing against the rosary hanging from your wrist, its cold beads a stark contrast to the warmth pooling in your core.

Father Price speaks again, his voice laced with something darker, heavier than before. "Do you understand the weight of your sins, Y/N? Each one is like a stain upon your soul. To truly repent..." He pauses, letting the silence gnaw at you. You hear a shift behind the screen, the rustle of his cassock, and then, almost like a whisper, "It'll take more than words."

You swallow hard, feeling the intensity of his gaze even without seeing it. You've never felt guilt and desire mix like this before––never felt your body betray you so completely in the face of righteousness. There's a tightness in your chest, a pull as if every fibre of your being yearns for something forbidden.

"Are you willing to be cleansed?" His voice is deeper now, almost a growl, and it sends a shiver down your spine. You nod before you can stop yourself, your breath hitching, because you know what he means. This was never just about confession.

Father Riley steps forward, his presence is undeniable as he emerges from the shadows. You didn't even realise he'd entered the room, but now his towering figure looms over you, silent and foreboding. His black cassock brushes against your legs as he stands there, hands clasped in front of him, his fingers curled around the rosary beads. His face remains unreadable, but there's an unspoken understanding between them––an unholy partnership bound by something far more sinful than you've ever imagined.

"On your knees," Father Price orders, his voice a command that cuts through the stillness like a blade. The rosary clinks against wood as you lower yourself, your heart pounding in your throat. You feel the weight of your sin pressing down on you, but there's another weight too––your desire, twisting inside you, feeding on the tension.

You kneel before them, hands clasped as if in prayer, though it feels anything but holy. Sweet sinner. Father Riley steps closer, his hand reaching out, tracing the line of your jaw with a single, calloused finger. There's something cruel in his touch, yet it ignites a fire within you, one that burns hotter with every second.

From the corner of your eye, you see the glint of holy water in Father Price's hand. The bottle is small and delicate, but in his grip, it looks dangerous––like a weapon. He steps forward, his eyes never leaving yours, and tips the bottle just slightly, letting a few droplets fall onto your forehead. The water is cold against your skin, but the heat inside you only grows stronger.

"Holy water to cleanse the impure," Father Price murmurs, his fingers brushing over the wet trail left behind, trailing it down, down until they hover just above the swell of your chest. You hold your breath, your body strung tight like a bow. "But your penance..." He pauses, looking to Simon, who remains unmoving, his dark eyes fixed on you, "...will take more." Father Riley's hand tightens in your hair, pulling your head back ever so slightly, exposing the curve of your neck to them both. The rosary in his other hand swings lightly, the black beads clicking together in rhythm with your heartbeat. His breath is warm against your ear when he speaks, low and commanding. "Sins can only absolved through punishment."

There's a moment––a fleeting second where you can feel the tension shift, a balance tipping into something far more dangerous, far more sinful. The two men of the cloth stand over you, their eyes dark with a desire they refuse to name but it's there. You can feel it. You know they're holding back, barely.

Father Price circles you slowly, his hand brushing along the curve of your shoulder, down the length of your arm, until his fingers catch the edge of your sleeve. "This flesh is weak," he murmurs, and there's a darkness to his words that sends a thrill down your spine. His hand lifts, holding the rosary before you, the crucifix dangling just inches from your lips. "Kiss it."

You hesitate, not out of reluctance, but from the sheer weight of the moment. The tension between the three of you is palpable, a forbidden current of electricity humming through the air. You part your lips, leaning forward, brushing a reverent kiss against the cold metal. The act feels twisted and wrong, but there's no denying the rush that comes with it–the way it sets your blood aflame, the way it makes you want them both even more.

Father Price steps back, his eyes locked on yours, a silent promise of what's to come. Father Riley's grip tightens in your hair, pulling your head back further until you're staring up at him, exposed and vulnerable beneath his gaze. "Your punishment begins now." Father Riley's voice is a low growl, and you know there's no going back. The air is thick with unspoken desire, with the weight of sin and salvation. You are at their mercy, and though your body trembles with fear, it's laced with a dark thrill you can't deny.

Father Price with a knife, soaked in holy water, cuts your shirt, revealing your sweet breasts. The holy men look at each other and smirk. Father Riley helps you up and guides you over to the altar. "Prayers are better when said to God on the altar," Father Riley says as his voice becomes deeper, his rosary touching your skin. Your head is pulled back, andFather Price holds the consecrated Host between his fingers, his eyes locking onto yours as he leans closer. "This is His body," he murmurs, voice low and commanding. Slowly, deliberately, he presses the Host against your trembling lips. "Take it and be cleansed." You open your mouth, and the wafer rests on your tongue, the taste of it bitter with the weight of your sins.

"You'll repent here," Father Price murmurs, the promise of what's to come heavy in his words, "with both of us watching."

Both men get you on your knees and hands. Behind you, Simon's hands skim over your body, slow, deliberate, as though he's marking you again. His fingers trace down your spine, over your hips, a slow burn that leaves you breathless. Every touch is filled with unspoken intent–one that promises anything but mercy. Price moves in closer, his lips brushing against your ear, hot breath fanning your skin. "This altar is sacred," he growls, "but tonight, it will witness something far more sinful."

"You'll find your absolution here," Price murmurs, his voice thick with authority. His hand trails down your cheek, his touch almost gentle despite the darkness behind his gaze. It's an unholy communion.

Father Riley lifts your skirt, pushing your panties aside. Holy water coats his fingers, "God forgive me, I'm only helping the sinner," he murmurs and his fingers slowly tease your folds. It feels satanic the way he touches you, the way he breaks celibacy for you. Father Price kisses his fingers and lets his cock peak past his holy clothes. Father Price's grip tightens around the back of your neck, firm and unyielding as he pulls you closer. His eyes are dark with something unholy, his thumb brushing slowly over your lips, teasing, testing your submission. "Open," he growls, his voice rough, filled with the weight of control. You hesitate for only a second before parting your lips, your breath catching as you feel the heat of his skin so close to yours.

Father Riley holds onto your waist. His fingers flick over your sensitive bud. Father Price has his fingers lubricated with your saliva slipped from your sweet lips to his cock. You take him into your mouth and for a second, all you could think about was how holy this tastes.

"How many fingers can this pretty hole take?" Father Riley says as he pushes another finger into you. One hand worked on his throbbing cock while the other teased your soaked hole. "Such a good little sinner," he praises as he pushes his cock deep into you. He adds another finger into your hole.

Your moans are muffled and that makes them smirk. Father Riles pulls onto your hair, the force of the tug makes you gag, which makes Father Price pleased. "How does that feel?" he asked, his voice smooth and full of lust. He started pumping in and out, stretching you in a way that made you whimper around his cock.

"Such a little slut," Father Riley mutters and his hips started to move in sync with Simons. His cock pushed deeper into your throat, making you gag more, but also making your pussy clench around Simon's cock. What a fucking sin this is. "You love this don't you?" Simon grinned, his eyes glinting with the promise of more pain and pleasure, "Beg for it" he commanded, his fingers curling inside of you, hitting your sweet spot.

The combination of both sensations was too much to bear, your body trembling, your eyes tearing up, and your voice hoarse from the cock in your mouth you managed to mumble, "Pleaaase... more..."

"we'll give you more, little sinner," Price growled, his thrusts becoming more aggressive, his cock swelling in your mouth. Simon's fingers curled deeper, his thumb rubbing against your clit. The sensations became too much to bear. Your body rocked between them, your throat constructing around Price's cock, your pussy clenching around Simon's cock. You couldn't hold back any longer, your body trembled each time they pounded themselves deeper into you. "What a dirty sinner, begging for our holy cocks to cleanse your filthy body." Father Price grunts the closer he gets.

"Open up for your priest, my child." Father Riley says as he runs his rosary through your back. Your hole stretched around him with a pop, as he started to push inside of you. Father Price pulls back from your throat, leaving you gasping for air. He then rammed his cock back in, throat fucking you with renewed vigour. The contrast between the two cocks, one in your mouth and one in your pussy, was overwhelming.

Simon started to thrust in earnest his hips slapping against your ass, while Price's cock filled your sweet throat, and you were caught between the two priests, being fucked in a way that would make even the most devout sinner lose their faith. Your body was on fire, the sensations building to a crescendo. You could feel your orgasm approaching, close enough to touch. You begged for more.

They continued to pound into you, their cocks filling you. Stretching you, taking you to places never thought you'd go. The room echoed with the sounds of flesh slapping against flesh, the smell of sex, sweat and musk filling the air. And just like that, the dam broke, and you came hard, your body convulsing around the cocks that had claimed you. The pleasure was so intense, that you couldn't even scream, your voice lost in ecstasy. Their cum covered your body, sealing the deal with the devil.

The room is quiet now, save for the sound of your ragged breathing. Your body trembles in the aftermath, the weight of what's just transpired pressing heavily upon your mind. The sacred space, one solemn and austere, feels tainted–like every inch of it has been made by the sin you've just committed. You should feel shame, and yet, all you can think about is the way their hands felt on you.

Father stand over you, his chest rising and falling slowly. His gaze is sharp as if he’s weighing you down with it. He doesn’t speak, not at first, just watches, allowing the silence to smother you. When he does finally speak, his voice is quiet, but it carries the same command that made uni in the first place. “you’ve defiled the sacred space, Y/N.” His words sliced through the air, and though his tone is harsh, there’s no denying the warmth pulling into your belly. The power he holds over you is intoxicating. “There’s only one way to cleanse yourself now.”

Father Riley approaches, the beads of his rosary still swinging slightly, a haunting reminder of what just transpired. You can feel the strength in his touch, not gentle, but not harsh either– just enough to keep you in line, to remind you of your place.

John steps forward, his fingers lifting your chin so your eyes meet his. “You’ll pray for forgiveness, right here,” he orders, his thumb brushing over your lips, a small gesture that feels far too intimate for the weight of the sin hanging between you. He moves closer, his breath hot against your ear, “and we’ll make sure you’re clean.”

Simon pours the holy water slowly, methodically, letting it drip down your skin like a baptism, but this is no ordinary ritual. Each drop feels charged, sanctified and profane all at once. You close your eyes as the cool water trails down your body, washing over the marks they’ve left on you– reminders of everything you’ve done, of everything they’ve made you feel.

“Say the words,” Father Price demands, his voice a low growl, sending shivers down your spine. “Repent. Beg for His mercy.”

Your lips tremble as you begin, your voice soft at first, each word of the prayer spilling from you, but the weight of it all makes your words falter. The rosary beads are pressed into your hands, the rough texture digging into your palms as you clutch them, seeking some kind of absolution.

Simon’s fingers trail down your spine, slow, deliberate, as if he’s mapping every inch of your body, marking you again. The sensation is sinful, but you can’t resist. His touch, the cool water, the heat from John's gaze–it’s overwhelming. “You’re still soiled,” Simon murmurs, his voice a low rumble, barely audible, but you hear it like a command. “ will make you pure again.”

Their hands cleanse you, not with tenderness, but with precision, as though each touch is part of a ritual– something darker than what the church intended, but no less powerful. Simon’s finger slipped through your hair, pulling it back as the water poured over you again, slow and steady, like a benediction.

“bless me, Father, for I have sinned…” you whisper, the prayer breaking into nothing more than a breathless plea as they both stand over you. John's eyes burn into yours, his hand cupping your cheek, his thumb brushing your lips again as if testing you.

“You’re forgiven,” he murmurs, the weight of his words wrapping around you like the chains of your sins. But you know, deep down, that the absolution they offer isn’t holy. It’s twisted, dark, and yet… you crave it. And as you kneel before them, soaked in holy water, bound by their unspoken promises, you realise–repentance was never really the goal.

A/N: so...are we liking this new thing i'm trying?

Tags: @liyanahelena @goldenmclaren @ghostslillady @moonsua1 @frizzseaberries @frazie99 @idklols @katybaby00 @saoirse06 @vampsquerade @alxexhearts @juneonhoth @tiredmetalenthusiast @jinxxangel13 @strangepuppynightmare @enarien @Simonssweetgirl @luvecarson @nellsbobells @saoirse06 @ikohniik @nobodys-coffee @strawberrychita @sae1kie @queen-ilmaree @Llelannie @Macnches2 @avidreadee123 @talooolaaloolla @skelletonwitch @bittermajesties @1234beeandpuppycat @sparky--bunny @honestlyhiswife @who-can-appease-me @ghostwifeyy @konigssultwithghost @pinkblossomsworld @lovelyvqer @the_royal_bee @beansproutmafia @soapybutt17 @asianbutnotjapanese @a-goose-with-a-knife @foxface013 @born4biriyani @mychemichalimalance @marshiely @iruzias @sleepyycatt @noodlezz-bedo @trinthealternate @azkza @VampyTheGoth

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just-dreaming-marvel · 2 days

Text

Love That Burns ~ 1

LOVE THAT BURNS MASTERLIST

Word Count: 1,235ish

Summary: You discover your mutation. You get recruited for a team.

Warnings: death, gun shots, fire, homelessness, nakedness

Notes: Surprise! I couldn't wait until Saturday. Besides, this is more of a prologue chapter than anything. Reminder: I DO NOT do taglists. Please don't ask. Please follow and interact! I appreciate any reblogs, likes, comments, and asks! Also, help me decide the endings!

It was snowing, but that didn’t matter. Your insides were burning up to the point that you couldn’t stop sweating, soaking through your clothes. There was practically a puddle of sweat beneath you as you pushed yourself further into the corner of your closet.

Your parents were downstairs, having a screaming match. It was their fifth one today. They had been too occupied with their own drama to even notice what was going on with you. A tremor had started in your hands as your fingertips began faintly glowing orange. You placed your hand against the wooden door as you heard the fighting die down. The silence was eery and before you knew it, a gun was going off. You rushed down the stairs, failing to notice the trail of fire being left behind.

Your father was standing above your mother, gun still pointed at her. Your mother was lying on the ground with a bullet in her forehead.

“Go back upstairs, Y/N,” your father demanded, not sparing you a single glance.

“What did you do?” You frantically cried.

“What she had coming,” your father responded. “She wasn’t like us, Y/N. She was— is that smoke?” Your father looked over to see the stairs in flames. “We’ve got to get out of here.” When your father grabbed your arm, only to quickly let it go when his skin burned. “You… You did this!” He pointed the gun at you. “You’re a monster just like her!”

“I— I’m sorry, Dad! I don’t know what’s happening!”

“I do, monster.”

Your father pulled the trigger and your arm came up to try to protect you. Fire shot out of your hand, landing on your father. He screamed out as the fire quickly spread over him. You cried as you watched your father stumble back into the fire engulfing the stairs.

Yells and screams began cutting through the growing flames as the neighbors gathered outside. Realizing how this could look, you hurried out the back and continued running. What had you done?

~~~

It didn’t take you long to figure out that you had powers of some kind in the form of fire. Now living on the streets, you used your power to keep alive. You discovered your second ability when another homeless person went after you with a knife, cutting your arm. It healed, simply leaving a scar, after a few hours. It was 1965 and you had just turned 35 when you realized that you had stopped aging years ago. This forced you to move around more to keep from being caught.

Coming back from a heist with your bag full, you entered the alley that you were currently calling home. With a slight twitch of your fingers, you lit the trash in the nearby barrel to warm up the alley and provide some light.

“Some power you got there.”

You jumped at the voice, immediately forming flames in your hands. A man stepped out of the shadows, a mischievous glint in his eye.

“Who are you?” You asked.

“Major William Stryker and you are Y/N L/N.”

“How do you know that?”

“I’ve been following you for quite some time.” He sat on a cart next to the barrel. “Tell me, did you mean to start that fire? Or was it a product of what happened to your mother?”

You grit your teeth. “How could you possibly know that?”

“I know things. Like what you are.”

“And?”

“You’re a mutant and someone special. I would like you to come with me. You’ll get training in your abilities and other skills. We could use you on the team I’m putting together.” He could tell you were considering it. “I know that you’ve been on your own and homeless for far too long. You would never have to worry about food, clothes, or a bed again. Not if you’re with me.”

“How do I know I can trust you?”

“You don’t. You’ll just have to come and see.”

You thought about it. This could be your chance to do something more. To learn about your powers and grow them in ways you didn’t think possible. The promise of the basic necessities was also night.

But there was also a chance that the man in front of you was trying to trick you. Taking a breath, you made a decision.

“I’ll go with you.”

~~~

Though the training was hard and the tests they constantly ran on your powers were draining, you never complained. Stryker had held up his end of the promise, providing you with food, clothes, and a place to sleep. He kept talking about his dreams for the team he was putting together and other mutants soon joined.

First, there was Fred Dukes, who possessed super strength and invulnerability. Next, John Wraith, a teleporter, and Chris Bradley or Bolt, who could control electricity. Agent Zero was next as an expert marksman with Wade Wilson, a swordsman who could never shut up, quickly following.

The six of you made an odd bunch and went out on regular missions for Stryker. You never fully understood what the point of these missions where, but you went on them anyway.

“Wade, I will melt those blades if you poke me one more time.”

The team had a day off, meaning that you were stuck in Stryker’s facility for the team until you were needed. The others had decided to plan a game of poker while you decided to read, with Wade choosing to annoy you.

“Where does the fire live?” Wade asked. “Like, is there an ember constantly lit inside of you? And why isn’t your skin hot?”

“Wade…”

“I’m just curious!” He threw his hands up. “Like how does the fire work? Do you— Hey!” Wade’s clothes burned off of him, leaving him naked. “If you wanted to fuck, you could have just asked.”

“Ew,” you cringed, moving away from him.

“Wilson!” John shouted. “Get some clothes on!”

“Why? You jealous?” Wade retorted with a smirk. He stood up and walked over to where the others were sitting. “Take a good look, boys. Take a look and wish you had this body.”

“Wilson!” Stryker exclaimed as he entered the room, with two other men trailing behind him. “Get your clothes on! We have new recruits.”

“Yes, sir,” Wade mock saluted before walking off.

You peeked over your book to get a look at them. Both of the men were muscular and clearly had their walls up. The one with shorter hair seemed more menacing than the man next to him. The man next to him caught your attention more. More emotions were swirling in his eyes. His hair was long, dark, and thick with mutton chops covering his cheeks.

“Sorry, gentlemen,” Stryker apologized. “That was Wade Wilson.” You stood up as Stryker introduced the other members of the team before ending with you. “And this is Y/N L/N.”

“A woman is on this team?” The menacing one scoffed. “No wonder you brought us in.”

“Don’t doubt, Y/N. Her ability to control fire can do more damage than your claws.”

“And you two are?” You questioned, getting annoyed again.

“This is my brother Victor Creed,” the other man introduced. He held out his hand to you. “I’m James. James Logan Howlett.”

You shook his hand briefly. “Nice to meet you, James. Welcome to the team.”

next chapter >

#marvel fanfiction #marvel fanfic #marvel x reader #logan howlett x you #logan howlett x mutant reader #james logan howlett x reader #logan howlett x reader #logan howlett imagine #logan howlett x y/n #the wolverine x reader #wolverine x you #wolverine fanfiction #wolverine x reader #logan howlett x female!reader #logan howlett x f!reader #logan howlett x fem!reader

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soulfarer23 · 3 days

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The truth about the Void-State is starting to sink in

so yea, I've been 'over'consuming loa/shifting/void-state Tumblr a bit, but I feel like, after reading very similar things in many different ways, It's starting to actually sink in.

By that I mean, I don't just know it, I genuinely understand it and its implications. ( I think lol )

I used to see the Void-State just as the 'instant manifestation' state, but It's so much more. It's me. Literally. I am LITERALLY the 'Void-State'. It's me in my purest, unfiltered form. It's my pure consciousness. And it exists unattached to any vessel or reality. It just is.

Now the affirmation 'I am' makes sense to me. I don't know if it's because I am not a native speaker, but I never fully got it. It always felt like there was something missing, like, I am what?

But that's literally it, I am. I exist. And that's what I am.

Not a body, not a human, not a person, not any DNA information. Not even someone from reality XYZ. I just am.

I am naturally omni-everything and eternal. My power is as infinite as infinite gets. The only thing to ever appear to diminish that power is the reality I choose to be aware of and the vessel I choose to experience that reality with. And that's always my choice, and my choice alone.

One question I often ask myself when I see posts like these from people who seem to 'know it all' is. Why. are. you. still. here.

And well, I am still here too. Have I woken up in the Void-State after 21 days of affirming? no, at least not in the 3d, but I won't go on one of these 'only the 4d matters' rants.

Well, why am I so convinced in the Void-State then? Well I was there once, years ago before I had a damn clue about anything. I just dreamed and suddenly my mind was sharply aware and awake, but there was nothing. No sound, no sensations and pure darkness. I wondered if I was dead, genuinely, yet I couldn't panic, I was content. I just existed. (thinking back, having these thoughts while being pure consciousness seems kinda dangerous)

So years later, I still clearly remembered this event vividly until I had a big 'OH' moment when I found out about the 'Void-State', and I finally understand what I felt back then. It was pure freedom and peace of mind.

Let it sink in. Mine and your most natural state is that of pure omnipotence, freedom and peace. Infinitely. Eternally. Literally.

All that keeps us away from that state is our assumption, some people (younger me for example) even still getting in without having a clue it exists. We can even guarantee it by assuming it, which ties back into loa. We are always in control, we really just have to realize and accept it. It's there, it's always been there, you just couldn't see it. Now you can. Take it and don't let anything in this reality stop you. NOW.

#reality shifting #shifting motivation #shiftblr #shiftingblr #void state #voidstate #loassumption #law of assumption #shifting antis dni

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piromina · 9 hours

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OVERANALYSIS OF THE BURNING SPICE UPDATE TRAILER BECAUSE YOU KNOW I HAVE TO

we open up like this. pretty ominous words ... and you wonder which one is the demon and which is the god. burning spice and golden cheese seem to be very similar, possibly the most parallels that one could draw from the ancients and their respective beasts.

And then we get this shot. Obviously it's showing the soul jam, but there are also some things behind it. One resembles a snake ... APOPHIS ANYONE? this has THE most Egyptian mythology symbolism ever. if golden cheese represents ra, which makes one hundred percent sense considering her kingdom and wealth and radiance and all that, and the fact that she resembles a falcon, then the snake on this wall HAS to represent apophis. it can't not. heck, in some versions of the story apophis was A FORMER SUN GOD. like crk def knows what they're doing.

there's also this tiger character ... nutmeg tiger I'm pretty sure? something like that. they seem to be under the influence of burning spice, as well as all the creatures around them. they seem to be at a higher "position" than all these other guys, though. maybe a willing host?

and there is this. this is really interesting. the fact that Golden Cheese is the one to say this is very intriguing. as far as we knew, the ancients had no knowledge that the beasts even existed until pure vanilla's trip. he wrote the letter to dark cacao, and it was all "you won't believe this - but the place called BEAST-yeast has BEASTS in it!!!" and dark cacao was equally surprised. they didn't know. they thought they were the first ever wielders of the soul jam. but golden cheese ... seems to know a bit more than she lets on to the rest of the group. and a bit more than us. what the heck is the spice swarm?

also, the return (and release) of smoked cheese!! man I missed this guy. he seems to be working with golden cheese in this shot, but then what was his little deal at the end of the first teaser about? it does make sense, though, that he would try to at least be against burning spice - his entire goal is to get the soul jam because he thinks the current wielders aren't worthy - but to me it seems like he might have his own third side in this battle. he'll probably convince both sides he's working with them, knowing this dude. he wants the power of abundance and destruction, a second half he knew nothing about, the ability to make a change in the kingdoms and the lives of everyone in them.

and these two images are probably the most interesting of them all. they seem to be part of some sort of ancient papyrus or prophecy or something like that. golden cheese is yelling about the "great destroyer." could it be possible he was some sort of legend in their kingdom, a prophecy just waiting to unfold? could golden cheese have known about this threat since the beginning? could the beasts' corruption have been inevitable from the start, written in the stars ... and could the witches have known about it?

#im way too hyped for this update actually #if you couldn't tell #burning spice's ability to bring others under his influence is a CRAZY power tho. I thought that would be more of shadow milk's thing #but its kinda unclear HOW burning spice's power works.#and that nutmeg tiger or whatever their name is ... what's THEIR role in all this?#and this isn't even the entire trailer!!! I covered like four frames!!! THERE'S SO MUCH!!!#anyways super excited to pull burning spice first try as an f2p #hey look. I did it w/ wind archer. twice. I got mystic flour on my first 50. it's POSSIBLE.#buuuut if there's anything I want it's shadow milk.#anyways SUPER EXCITED FOR OCTOBER!!#“THE GREAT DESTROYER!!” whaaaat does that mean?#also one more thing: this doesn't seem to be taking place IN beast-yeast? it looks like we're just at the fallen gc kingdom #do we go there eventually? what's goin' on?#the fanartists will be going craaazy (including myself)#crk #cookie run #cookie run kingdom #beast yeast #burning spice cookie #smoked cheese cookie #golden cheese cookie #also that whole Egyptian mythology thing is INSANE. I love mythology it drives me nuts about everything when im able to make a connection.

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dark-and-kawaii · 17 hours

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✧˖° Never Broken °˖✧

⊹ ࣪ ˖ Summary: He had failed to perform, a man, who should be strong and powerful, couldn't even get an erection anymore. It felt like his heart was shattering, he was a mess, and the thought of you leaving him over this had his hand clenched into a fist. Zevlor should know by now that you’re creative enough to find new ways to pleasure one another~ And you have no problem reminding him ♡

⊹ ࣪ ˖ Pairing: Zevlor x F!Tav/Reader

⊹ ࣪ ˖ Content: NSFW - Soft Cock Zevlor - Tongue Kissing - Angst - Hurt/Comfort - Tail Penetrating Your Tight Cunt - Nipple Sucking

Notes: This idea stemmed because of @daisyofwaterdeep ♡ ♡ ♡ Thank you ♡ ♡ ♡

He always feared this day would come, that he’d wake up and find himself broken, a disgrace, a lover that is of no use anymore…

Yet it still stung like nothing before.

As the years with you passed, he got older, he could feel it, he was slowing down, getting weaker, getting tired more often and having less energy every morning… Though he did his best to hide it from you.

But now, here he was.

Lying in bed, his usual hardness completely absent.

He had tried for what felt like hours to make something happen, to feel some semblance of pleasure as he touched himself.

But it was all fruitless.

No matter how hard he touched himself, or thought of you, there was no blood flowing down below.

It was all gone.

And now here he was, tears pricking at his eyes and his pride crumbling.

He had failed to perform, a man, who should be strong and powerful, couldn't even get an erection anymore. It felt like his heart was shattering, he was a mess, and the thought of you leaving him over this had his hand clenched into a fist.

He couldn't take it, the thought of losing you, the love of his life.

His eyes shut and it felt like his chest was collapsing…

Then again, was this not a fair punishment for him?

For what he had done, this was probably just his penance. He had betrayed his people, turned against them, swayed by the absolute… The very reason so many of them had fallen, the reason his comrades, his friends, were gone... Then there was you, his other half, his light… His whole world whom he had turned against that day as well, whom he had nearly killed with his own hands...

He was a failure, and this was his punishment.

He was going to lose you and have no one to blame but himself.

The tears had fallen now, staining the bed sheets beneath him.

He had no clue how long he had been laying there, crying like a lost child.

But it seemed that he would have to move eventually, since a soft knock could be heard on the door.

He quickly sat up, rubbing his eyes furiously.

He didn't want you to see him like this, you had enough of your own problems to deal with.

You didn't need to have the burden of taking care of a broken old man.

“A-Ah... I'm sorry, did I wake you, love?” You softly spoke, the door opening slowly as your head poked through the crack.

The sight made his heart flutter, your hair was styled neatly, your cheeks rosy, and you still wore your revealing night clothes. The swell of your breasts, the dip in your waist, and the curve of your hips... Gods, you were the most beautiful being he'd ever laid eyes on.

You smiled, walking into the room as he watched, “I woke up a little bit ago and was wondering if you wanted me to make you breakfast today? You always seem to be the one doing it, and well, you don't always have to do it all by yourself... Besides, I wanted to make you feel special today, my love.” You wrapped your arms around him, kissing his cheek gently.

He felt his throat close, his voice refusing to work, his heart was screaming at him to just tell you, to let you know everything, that he needed you, that he loved you so much.

“I- …” he sighed and smiled best he could, “That’s very kind of you, dear.” He whispered, his hand coming up to gently caress your cheek, the touch of your skin sending warmth throughout his entire body.

You grinned, hugging him tight and kissing his lips, a smile on your face, and a glint of mischief in your eyes. He didn’t have much time to question what you were planning before you pushed him down on the bed and straddled his hips, a soft giggle leaving you.

“Today is all about you, my love~ let me take care of you, please~ you can let me take control, just for a bit~ please?”

Zevlor’s breath caught in his throat, his eyes widening as you began to rub your barely covered core against him. He could feel his heart sink, a sharp pain running through his chest, you looked so happy, and here he was, about to destroy it.

He had never denied you before, not once, always willing to let you have your way with him and vice versa, to show him your love, to take him.

Yet, when you began to kiss his neck and your hands traveled lower, his own hands found their way to your wrists.

He couldn’t let you continue…

Your head cocked to the side, confusion and hurt crossing your face… Zevlor could swear that his heart had cracked even further, he could hear it.

“Wh-what’s wrong? Did I do something?”

You were already blaming yourself, it was all too much for him, he had to tell you.

He took a shaky breath, closing his eyes, then looked at you.

His beautiful, wonderful, perfect, and kind hearted love. Despite his betrayal with the others you still showed him love, you had shown him forgiveness, fought at his side countless of times, and you had taken him into your home treating him with nothing but respect and affection.

He didn’t deserve you, not at all. He accepted the reality of his fate now, he had no right to you, not when you deserved a man that could give you everything, and a cock that worked properly…

He sat up, his hands still holding your wrists as you stared at him, waiting, “what is it, Zevlor?” The fear in your voice was palpable, and his heart screamed for him to just comfort you and reassure you, tell you it was all alright.

“I-I… I am sorry, but-“

You cut him off, pulling away and sitting back on his thighs, your arms coming up to hug yourself.

His face sunk as tears began to creep in your eyes… He wanted to curse. With a deep breath he continued, “I cannot go on… My body- It will not- I- I can no longer perform- no longer function as a proper man should, I cannot satisfy you-“

Your arms released themselves from your body as your mouth hung open releasing a shaky breath, “That’s-“ You smiled and ran your fingers through your hair, “that’s a relief.” You laughed, a small sob mixed in with the sound.

Zevlor blinked, his brow furrowing as his head tilted, his heart feeling as though it had stopped, he was so confused, why would this be a relief?

He felt the heat of your hands as they came up to his face, cradling his cheeks, wiping the tears that threatened to fall, and he could see that tears had begun to fall from your own eyes.

“Zevlor, I- i was so scared… I thought- I thought that you were going to leave me… ha~” You smiled laughing quietly as your thumb traced his cheekbone.

“Tav…” He whispered, his eyes closing, his mind beginning to race.

You thought he would leave you.

You were worried he was leaving.

You feared his loss.

You wanted him.

You didn't think of him as a broken, old man.

“Zevlor, listen to me-“ you whispered, and his eyes opened, a soft sigh escaping him.

Your hands moved from his face, and he was about to reach for them again, only he stopped himself as your hands found their way to the hem of your night dress.

With a small nod, and a smile, you pull the material up and off, leaving yourself bare from the waist up, “I told you during the netherbrain war, didn’t I?” You began to grind into him ever so slowly, “That I loved you no matter what happens.”

Zevlor was speechless, his eyes roaming your figure, the sight of you always took his breath away, but now… Now he truly was at a loss for words.

The way you smiled at him, the look of pure love in your eyes, the softness of your touch, the way your voice sounded as you whispered his name, it was all too much… You- you-

“Tav…” His voice cracked, his hands shaking as he brought it up, his fingers ghosting along your cheek, his mind and heart a mess, “You deserve so much better than me, you deserve a man that can provi-“

He was cut off by the warmth of your lips pressing to his. The man melted instantly, his arms wrapping around you and pulling you close… He was drowning in your touch, the taste of your lips, the sweet scent of your skin. He didn’t want it to end, he wanted to be selfish for once…

The way you trembled in his hold, and the way your tongue prodded at his lips, begging for access, like you wanted him, needed him, it had him reeling.

His hand found the back of your head, pulling you closer, his lips parting, the softest moan leaving him… It felt so good, just kissing you, his tongue running along yours, the taste of you.

He wanted to take it further, wanted to feel you against him, but… That was the problem.

You wanted him, and he-

Pulling away, his hand still on the back of your head, keeping you close as he kissed the corner of your mouth, “I’m sorry, Tav… I just can’t pleasure-”

“There are plenty of ways you can still pleasure me, my love. You don't have to be hard in order to make me scream your name,” Your tongue swirled around his neck, biting at his ear, whispering softly, "I still need you, Zevlor, I still want you… Besides, just the sight of you is enough to make me wet-“

Zevlor shuddered, his grip tightening, a dark blush forming on his cheeks, he couldn't help it.

Your hand reached for his tail, “and I’m sure we can get creative~ I still need my hellrider~ and you are the only one that can make me beg~ even if it’s soft and leaking with precum~” You brought the tip of his tail to your lips, sucking and nibbling lightly, “And who else would know how to use their tongue better than my Zevy~"

Zevlor moaned, his eyes glazing over as he watched. Your mouth felt amazing, and the way your tongue rolled against his sensitive tail… Hells, he could already feel his body heating up.

You were always a master with words, knowing exactly what to say and do to make him submit to your whims, to make him feel whole even when he felt broken...

By the end of the night you were both naked, the blanket kicked to the floor, and the bed rocking against the wall.

You were straddling him, his tail buried in your cunt carefully as his mouth was latched onto your breast. His beautiful soft cock drooling cum, pressed between the two of you.

He had come multiple times, and his mind was blissfully numb as his fingers played with your clit, his tongue rolling over your nipple.

“Ze-Zevlor~ Mnnnhaa~ T-Tails s’deep~ L-Love y-you! Love y-ou! S’much! I-I love y-you so-o~ m-much~” You panted, moaning loudly, his tail- by the gods, was it wonderful. It hurt at first, the stretch and the sharp pain, but his careful ministrations made the pain melt away into nothing but pleasure.

He could never be broken in your eyes. It was a simple truth, and there was no way you’d ever let him slip through your fingers. Not ever. Zevlor would always be perfect to you

#bg3 #baldur’s gate 3 #baldurs gate 3 #baldurs gate #tav #zevlor #zevlor bg3 #bg3 Zevlor #monster smut #monster fucker #bg3 smut

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septimusmoonlight · 2 days

Note

You doing ok?

#i'm alive. simply being chewed upon by multiple things #work is more stressful than i'd like it to be. for instance i'm hoping that i submitted my time off notification for tomorrow correctly #because otherwise it might read as a no call no show and i would . like to continue having a job #now to be fair. i do have it on the system that i requested it at the beginning of the month and i emailed my supervisor about it last week #so even if i didn't submit it correctly i'm likely in the clear #but nonetheless. i also got a firm talking-to the other day and now i am on ✨thin ice✨ for dicking around too much #because they track ur idle time at my work (computer) and mine was Quite High so my supervisor was like man what the hell is this #but even though she was kind of baffled at me spending so much time dicking around #she couldn't even really be all that mad in the end because i'm still doing good numbers and have made no (zero) mistakes #so she was just like. it's kind of impressive that your numbers look this good when you literally have 50% idle time #so she goes imagine what you could do if you weren't wasting so much time #and yeah i can whip out some Really Good Numbrers when i put the effort in.#so the problem is not my numbers it's just that i'm not spending long enough doing my tasks for the day #but i don't want to drag out those tasks intentionally so i've just been upping my own standards/goals #as much as i hate giving any more of my brain power than is necessary to giant corporations #it's still easy to feel smug after you get Talked To and then immediately turn around and show off #like yeah i coulda been doing this good the whole time. literally pulling up by 20 points. i just didn't want to.#trying to keep everyone's expectations low but accidentally toed the line of um. not working enough to keep my job #...anyway. EAS national weather system issued a . hi #i haven't forgotten about all of you i'm just having trouble tracking all my shit that i got going on ✨ yaaaaaaay #im gonna post things on AO3 soon. i promise. my weakness is that i get sidetracked trying to unwind from work #...i know i said 'soon' last time. but this time for real #asks #not sexy #anonymous

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drdemonprince · 3 days

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hey, so this is super random and I’m not sure if you have thought about this but figured I’d ask: (came to my mind after reading your story in *unmasking* about intervening in street harassment)

I’m audhd and it really affects my sensory processing, social/ situational awareness etc since it’s hard for me to discern which stimuli are important in any given situation. I’m also realizing that I never really feel unsafe as a single woman in a dense city environment, even when my friends feel unsafe. Makes it hard to trust my own intuition about that kinda stuff since everyone I know apart from myself has that experience.

Question is, do you happen to have any info/ best practices about situational awareness and judging the danger of potentially sketchy situations? Walking around the city at night, creepy rural gas station, online hookup, greyhound bus alone etc.

Everything online says “trust your intuition” but my intuition always says “ehh it’ll be fine” lol.

The truth is, it usually WILL be fine. Most people's *~magical crime and danger intuition~* is a combination of true crime slop, inaccurate media coverage of the crime rate inflating their anxieties, and classism and racism. The vast majority of crimes are not committed by random strangers lurking in the dark, but between individuals who know one another and in circumstances that are at least somewhat explicable, and so you do not need magic empath powers to determine if you will be safe somewhere or not.

The way you keep relatively safe is by informing yourself of the facts, not the hype -- look up the actual crime statistics for your area, for example, though be highly skeptical of them. These figures are collected by the police state and we cannot trust them to define what safety or unsafety even IS, as they are the source of the danger for the majority of us. What they classify as crime and where they bother to enforce crime is highly skewed, and itself can create massive misapprehensions. So make sure to also speak with people in the communities you are visiting about what happens to them and the general vibe. Also spend a lot of time out in your community yourself, observing things, talking to people, hanging out, maybe volunteering, and learning the lay of the land. You'll have more people around to help you if you ever need it, and you'll find more occasions where your help is needed, too!

Follow some basic, common sense advice to avoid making oneself especially vulnerable, but don't over-isolate yourself. Things like keeping one earbud out of your ear when walking home alone at night and not keeping a purse open on the train are always sensible maneuvers; carrying pepper spray or a gun that will more likely be used to harm you is not. Learn how to de-escalate people if you don't already know -- acting calm, making your posture non-threatening but confident, moving slowly and predictably, avoiding provocative eye contact, changing the subject of conversation, engaging a victim of harassment and pretending to know them in order to drag them away from a bad situation, etc. These things will be helpful to you if a situation arises, and the more prepared you feel, the less anxious you ever have to be.

Honestly, moving through the world with a "this feels fine / seems fine" energy is ITSELF massively protective. I have ALWAYS walked around alone at night, even when I was a small 18 year old "girl," including in areas where the majority of women of my then-demographic would have not felt "safe" going out on their own. By and large, I was completely fine. People really don't want to mess with you if you seem like you have a handle on your shit and are not afraid of them.

The worst that ever happened to me was a guy grabbing my tit -- in broad daylight on a sunday on a train packed full of people. It really couldn't have been avoided. And a guy flashing me -- again in midday in a family oriented neighborhood many would deem safe. I survived these things, and I defended myself by getting aggressive with the guys who did them, and physically attacking them, which scared them off. I'm glad I did what I did, and I'm glad I wasn't so intimidated by the possibility of scary stranger danger that I kept myself sequestered away.

The few other times anyone made me uncomfortable, it was things like leering comments or walking alongside me for a block, hitting on me (sometimes, yes, late at night), but because I was able to be assertive, unbothered, and stand my ground, the guys always gave up or were scared off (by me). And this reaction from me is one I largely credit to having no instinctual "stranger danger" crime intuition of the sort most white women are conditioned to have.

In short, I think your instincts might be more accurate to reality than your friends' are. It's good to look around and pay attention to things, to learn to recognize patterns, to study one's area, to speak to people in your community and know what's going on, and to prepare oneself for hard situations, which WILL happen to you sometimes no matter what you do. but the world is rarely as scary as it's made out to be.

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lo1k-diamonds · 2 days

Text

Stellar Behavior 💜 Part 3

“It's not the price of anything or a deal. Just let me eat you out again.”

PAIRING: Officer!Yoongi x Mafia (f)reader

SUMMARY: Yoongi needs you again, and you strike a deal. This time, you don't ask for any favors, though. Now what?

WORD COUNT: 5.9k

GENRE: Gangster AU, Law AU, enemies to lovers, smut

RATING: R (explicit)

WARNINGS: corruption, power dynamics, mentions of crimes, guns, knifes, semi-public sex, fingering, oral (f rec), masturbation (both), caught having sex, unprotected sex, switching, bratty, hate sex...

A.N. Ignore the excuse for steamy hot sex... Again, infinite thank yous to @moonleeai and @downbad4yoongi for working through my crazy and being incredible! Enjoy 🔥🔥

Yoongi threw the package of gum across the desk, ignoring it when it fell to the floor of his office. It was empty, again, and his fingers were twitching with how much he needed a fix. He huffed; as if quitting smoking fucking mattered.

His last promotion so many months back had not come without its challenges. His bosses knew how difficult his cases were, but after he saved Officer Jimin, they chose him for the job. He heaved a deep breath and pressed his eyes beneath his eyeglasses; the problem was that he wasn't the one who actually fixed it then, and he didn't have a way to fix things now.

He thought about you more often than he'd care to admit. Initially, he thought you had infected him. How else was it that he thought of you for no reason, got boners at random times just remembering something about you, or couldn't jerk off without thinking of you?

It was all because he was lust-crazed the last time you were together. He shouldn't have succumbed to it and given you what you wanted, but he was thinking with his dick. That was it. He didn't know he could act like that, but he guessed you did that to him. So he shouldn’t have been intimate with you or let it get to his fucking head, let alone have your name written across his cock for months for no reason. He was an idiot, but no one else got him going. And so he had given you everything you wanted.

He held his end of the deal once he checked the address you gave him. It was easy to get a warrant since witnesses were placing key directors of the conglomerate in that area, and in a second, everything had gone down. Like wildfire spreading, the amount of incriminating evidence found in that gambling house was still turning heads months later. It was a win for the department, a success with the public, and it affected a long chain of people in power, from managers to politicians. Once again, Yoongi was seen as the face of justice, and he was left uneasy about it.

He had used the flash drive well, but first, he asked his team to investigate its contents. He was done with being your puppet; you were as bad as the people you were helping put away. How the hell had you gotten that info? You had a reputation regarding information, but still. What did you know? And how did you know it?

Unfortunately, he couldn't find anything. All he had were suspicions and gut feelings, but that wasn't much of a case. Still, he'd get to the bottom of it. He'd find your dirty little secrets, and not because he wanted to have something on you like you had on him. Not because he wanted to blackmail you, but to level the playing field.

The problem was that he needed you again. He handled his cases fairly well, but a drug operation had just gone south. The undercover agent who infiltrated to bust the biggest net of distribution in Seoul had just died in a shootout, and they couldn't even recover the body because the dealers took him with them. The family needed to be informed, and without their son to bury, it was bound to be a huge problem. It didn't matter that Yoongi took over the operation a couple of months ago; his head would roll, and he wouldn't be able to bring peace to the lost agent or his family. He sighed and pressed his eyes; his failure he could handle, but not leaving the grieving family like this.

So he got up, left his office, and crossed the parking lot to his car. He worked at a more prominent building now, but the road was the same one as he drove to Aether. He couldn't think of anyone else who could help, and you had always come through. Maybe you knew where his body was or how to get to him, or any other information that could help. It didn't hurt to try, even for a price.

The sly smiles you gave him popped into his mind, but he stayed focused. That wouldn't happen again, and this was bigger than him. This was about doing the right thing again, and you'd surely understand.

He was surprised when the security at the Aether recognized him and instantly let him in without checking him. As he followed a member of the club's staff down a familiar path, he considered that he had only been there once, so that had to be your doing.

Before he could think further about it, he was stepping into your office with the door closing behind him. You were wearing a white shirt with a couple of buttons open and had your hair up in a messy bun, sitting at your desk working at your computer as if you had a simple office job. You stayed focused, typing whatever you needed before waving for him to take a seat. His eyes traced every detail of your focused expression. You looked healthy and glowing, focused on your work, and he wondered if things were working out for you.

“My, you look stiff, Chief,” you commented, taking a glance at him before wrapping up whatever was taking your full attention from him. Your smile had a hint of mischief, and it was a relief. “In need of a drink? Must be, after the whole drug mess and agent down ordeal.”

His shoulders softened, “I need your help.”

You straightened your shoulders, “Why would I help you?”

“Because there must be something you want.”

Silence stretched between you as you both just eyed each other. Neither one gave away what was running through your minds, and he decided to wait quietly. He could overthink this — excuse himself for calling you greedy and/or letting you think he meant it sexually — or wait for your spirited self to run the show.

He was certain about waiting, thus having time to adjust to you, and yet you scrunched your nose slightly and looked away when a notification popped up on the screen. It made him feel uneasy in your presence for the first time, and he decided to change his approach. He was coming to you for help; the least he could do was make it interesting for you, too.

“I thought it could be in your interest as well,” he restarted, sitting comfortably. “They're stepping into your territory, no?”

“I'm not in the drug market.”

“But you want to be.”

His heart started racing, and he cursed you in his mind. Did you want him to chase you? To plead and beg like before? Did you have to look so effortlessly breathtaking doing it?

The corners of your lips twitched, and it was the only hint of the familiar mischievousness he was used to. You stayed quiet as you considered things, even eying the paperwork on your desk in front of you for a moment.

He wondered if he should say something else when you finally said, “If I help you bust their network and get your agent, you'll let me take some of their product.”

He pursed his lips, “If I bust them, I'll already be helping you with a competitor.”

“But without immediate product, I won't be able to control the market and distribute it safely,” you shrugged, and he was mesmerized. You were doing business, and he shouldn't be that entranced, but he was. “Trust me, that's the only right way of doing it. Otherwise, the small fries will start selling bad products and have people sick and overdosing on your streets.”

He knew his answer but insisted anyway, “And my agent?”

“He's been moved to one of their warehouses where coincidentally they have their ‘clinic’,” you used your fingers to quote, then pressed your lips. “They'll dump him somewhere soon.”

He nodded. That was one of his fears. They needed to get rid of the body so as not to be incriminated, and he needed to get to him before they did something irreversible.

“What can you do?”

You hummed, “Addresses and names. But we'll need to coordinate when you raid them so some products can slip through the cracks. Except for that particular warehouse, you should go there as soon as possible.”

“We have a deal.”

You reached for a sticky note and scribbled before giving it to him. “I can arrange for people to support your operation quietly in a couple of hours.”

He caught the sticky note, rolling it in his fingers. “I can't do it that quickly.”

You nodded and asked for the paper again, then added something under it before returning it. “My private number. Use a burner and let me know.”

He took the note and looked at it nonchalantly, but his teeth still nipped his bottom lip. Why was he getting that excited? It wasn't a date. It meant absolutely nothing. And yet, he felt giddy when he looked at you getting back to your paperwork. He wanted to jump from the chair and—

“Was there anything else?”

You asked, looking up from the documents as though you were surprised he was still there.

He pressed his lips, “Just… We made a deal.”

“Yes.”

“And I guess I didn't leave you wanting like last time.”

You sat back and gave him your full attention again, though your typical mischief was nowhere to be found.

“Are you trying to say you expected a sexual favor?”

“Yes.”

You scoffed, “Well then, shouldn't you be happy there isn't one?”

He didn't respond and just evaluated your reaction. Were you upset with him? Why weren't you teasing him relentlessly for even bringing it up? Were you no longer interested? But then, why did you sound just a little bit annoyed? Was he reading into it too much, or could he just already read you?

He got up and put the paper inside his jacket pocket before taking it off and leaving it on the chair. You observed him and straightened even more against your office chair when he circled the desk to get to you.

“I didn't request anything,” you reiterated.

“I know,” he answered calmly, turning your chair to him.

“I'm not threatening you either,” you added, your eyebrows furrowing slightly in confusion.

He looked down at where he knew your knife would be and nodded, “You're not.”

You looked up at him, almost flabbergasted, “So what is it? Or do you just want to hear praise or something—”

“Thought you'd tease me about it,” he admitted, then moved to his knees because standing and forcing you to look up didn't seem natural.

You pressed your lips, “There's nothing to tease. You gave me exactly what I asked for.”

From that angle, you looked even more powerful, almost majestic. His brain was really wired wrong because instead of happily leaving through the door, he wanted to touch you.

But he wouldn't until he understood, “And there's nothing else you want?”

“There is,” you didn't hesitate, almost making him smile. But he didn't because you didn't seem at ease.

“Then ask.”

“There's no need.”

“And if I want you to?”

“Why would you want that?”

Your suspicion was plain in your light frown, and he took a moment to think it over, “Because we should celebrate. We're doing something good.”

You tilted your head, “We're saving your ass.”

He rolled his eyes; it wasn't just that, and you knew it. “And that's also a good thing. So let's enjoy it.”

“You’re already going to pay me for—”

“It's not the price of anything or a deal. Just let me eat you out again.”

Your eyes widened, “What?”

Your stupefied look wasn’t enough for him to back down nor to think closely about what he was doing. He looked down at your legs, covered above the knee by a raised skirt with golden floral patterns. Every ticking second increased his eagerness, no matter how patient and composed he seemed. He could already see his long fingers indenting the flesh of your thighs, and he could almost remember the exact scent between them, too; it made him dizzy with want.

“You just…” You started, tilting your head slightly again, drawing his eyes up. “Want to give me head… to celebrate?”

He hummed, licking his lips subconsciously, and you blinked. It took you a second, but a crooked smile pulled your lips, and you spread your legs. You exuded a snobbish nonchalance that almost annoyed him. Still, there was a clear invitation in your actions that he prioritized over anything that could stop him from getting what he wanted.

His fingers gripped your outer thighs gently as he moved in, nuzzling your soft skin with a deep breath. He could have forgotten why he wanted to be that close in the months that passed, but taking in your sweet scent, he chose to forget everything else instead. The fact that he shouldn’t do this, that he didn’t have to, the cameras, the time and place; none of it mattered. There was no use in letting the disgust or frustration disrupt the moment he’d finally attained what he had fantasized about for so long. His teeth and tongue teased you gently, earning your hand in his hair, and he sighed, relaxed. Just for a little while, he’d admit he wanted it and grasp it all.

Still, he moved slowly, or as slowly as he could in his urge. His deft fingers dragged the hem of your skirt slowly back while he feasted on the sight being revealed, an inch at a time. His tongue kept circling over your sensitive skin, yearning for what he knew would soon be unveiled, and your deepening breath only made his hunger stronger. Your nails were grazing the back of his head, massaging his scalp in waves as if you wanted to pull him closer and urge him to move faster. He could only agree with you, but there was a sweet torture in making you both long for it.

“Is it the humiliation, Chief?”

Your voice was a wanton breath that had him sinking his teeth just a little more while he finally revealed what was under your skirt.

“No,” he murmured back, voice taken.

Why were you not wearing any underwear? He could have asked, but the question slipped from his mind. One second he was taking in the view of your glistening slit, juicy just for him with barely a touch; the next, he was jumping forward, springing on his heels to press his face to your core as hard as he could to taste you.

His tongue darted out, spreading over your lips to open them, tasting and collecting as much of your wetness as possible, and you moaned. He heard it; you didn’t mean to, but you wiggled on your chair to give him better access and intensify those sensations, melting you, releasing even more of you for him to taste.

He could have made you work for it, but he was thirsty and, like a junkie, addicted. Every drop made him forget himself and crave the next, and when it came, it reminded him why he wanted it all to begin with. You were a force of nature, reacting to him like the perfect storm — quaking above him, breathing heavily with your voice etched quietly to the little wheezes, trembling with your legs firm around his head. He sighed, nuzzling your clit greedily. After longing for you for months, your taste had finally invaded his mouth, and along with your scent, he was drowning. A sigh of contentment escaped his lips — he had reached paradise.

Your thighs clenched around his head, and he tried to prevent you from pushing him away by holding onto you tighter, but the arms of your office chair were making things difficult.

He was displeased but had to move away and breathe, “Stay still.”

“Yoongi…”

Your voice was broken, and your flushed, desperate expression twisted his guts unexpectedly. In a second, he rose to his feet and grabbed your arms, yanking you to stand up before dragging you with him. You didn’t offer resistance, pliable to him, just like last time.

He placed you in front of the smoked glass overseeing the dance floor of Aether just below, and you extended your arms to support yourself on it. Instantly, his lips latched onto the back of your neck, right under your messy bun. Your moan gave him goosebumps, and he didn’t stop, tracing your curves with big, open hands while suckling your skin.

You drove him crazy. Last time, you were sitting above him, pleasuring yourself on his face like you owned him, and now, you were letting him position you and touch you to his heart’s content. He wanted to get on his knees so you’d grind on his face, but he also craved leading you to the state you were in right now, at your utmost vulnerability, letting him do as he pleased.

But all he wanted to do was get more. Like an alcoholic downing a drink after a long drought, he craved more of you with every inch he touched, whiff he took, and flavor he swallowed. Even with you vulnerable in his arms like that, he didn’t want to subdue you or take advantage — quite the opposite.

He kneeled and moved to slot himself between your parted legs and the glass. He yanked the skirt back up to have unrestrained access before licking and biting your mound while his fingers traced a slow, maddening trail up your legs. You groaned above him, and he was lost again, needing more of your voice just like that.

He gripped your ass, pulling you flush to his face with his lips brushing your clit. You jolted, searching for something more than a fleeting touch, and he groaned. The more you gave him, the more he wanted; there was no holding back.

“Look,” he whispered, looking up at you. Your open lips, graciously letting your quiet whimpers out, trembled, and he nuzzled your bikini line. Your scent intensified his crazed desire, but he insisted, “Look at them.”

You did, as one hand of his kept you in place, grabbing your ass cheek, and the other disappeared between your legs. He observed you, taking in how you gasped when his digits sunk inside, widening your eyes at the unsuspecting crowd. It set his nerve endings on fire the way you whimpered softly above him while your slick slid down his fingers as he pressed inside your velvet flesh. It was why he needed more, coaxing you with his hooked fingers to see where he could take you.

Your whimpers became inconsistent, and not even a thumb rubbing your clit made you fall into the rhythm. On the contrary, you kept tightening, moaning, and yet he could sense the note of annoyance in your tone. His eyes and mouth were on you, licking the soft spot where your leg met your mound, and he wondered what more could you possibly want.

He knew you were close; he had obsessed over the little signs of your peak, and he was seeing them now: your lip tucked between your teeth as you fought rolling your head back while moans slipped from your throat. And yet, you weren’t letting it happen. Why?

The answer came when you grasped his hair between your fingers and pulled him to the right spot. You forced him there while you humped his face, pressing his head to the glass, and a smile crept on his face. Your moans became desperate as you viciously chased your climax on his mouth, and the euphoria lit his head like fireworks. He didn’t know why, but you taking what you wanted from him was so fucking hot, his hard cock was aching inside his pants.

It didn’t take long for you to find the perfect friction, and he helped by suckling. The moment your clit slotted between his lips and he sucked hard, you tried to move but it was too late. He heard it in the pitch of your moan, the way you cowered over him against the glass, and the faint grind as you trembled against his mouth. You were heavenly— like a godsent delicacy, your orgasm only accentuated your taste, your divinity, and like a fool, he couldn’t resist.

You pulled away. He knew that moment would come, and perhaps that was why his tongue had been restless. Even during your aftershocks, he still searched for more, licking your cum off your swollen lips like an opportunistic slob. Yet, he relented when you moved back and stayed kneeling to give you space, removing only his head from the glass.

His dick was throbbing in his pants, crying for attention and relief, but his mind was somewhere else. His hungry eyes stayed on you as he wiped his chin, and you composed yourself. He had what he wanted. Of course, he’d have more if he could, but a part of him expected you to tell him to leave now that you were satiated. It would both anger him and amuse him if it were the case, so he was anticipating what would happen next.

“Sit down.”

He almost jolted, confused. He was already kneeling—

“Sit,” you insisted more firmly, pointing at your office chair.

You walked over and perched yourself on the desk, facing the chair between you two, and suddenly, he thought that maybe it wasn’t over yet. He got up and did as you asked, spreading his legs to accommodate his hard dick. It wasn’t a hint. He wasn’t able to think that far. All he could do was look at you, already so tranquil, when he wanted to mess you up all over again.

“Pull your dick out.”

He burned from the inside out, taking seconds to comply with a muted eagerness. He remembered you saying that last time all too well, and the thought of you using him again got him so excited his fingers were shaking.

“Grab it,” you said, and he did, fighting to keep his eyes open to look at you.

You were observing every move of his long fingers, and you surely didn’t miss how his cock was weeping. Your tongue peeked out between your lips as he spread it over the tip, and the sight was enough for him to release more. His balls tensed, still tucked tight inside his pants as his whole body screamed for release. Wouldn’t you put him out of his misery?

“Show me,” you demanded, licking your lips, and he almost groaned. His plea must have been clear in his eyes because you bit your lip. “Show me how you work your cock.”

His palm moved down his length, and he shook his head. He needed to feel you, to touch you, to have you on his lap, moaning with every plunge of his hard cock inside you, and yet you changed everything. You just had to ask for something, and he instantly did it, like a puppet entranced by your charms. Not even the principles he upheld withstood; there was only them or you, and you were undeniable.

Doing what you asked had its dangers, but having your full attention was worth it. Your dark eyes were boring into his, drinking the sight of him fisting himself on your chair like you were equally hypnotized. Fortunately for Yoongi, jerking off meant controlling how soon he’d blow, and he could edge himself all night if it meant having the chance of you riding him.

He didn’t count on you opening your shirt slowly, pushing each button through its eyelet, working your way from top to bottom as though the fabric bothered you. But the more you revealed, the harder it was to stay put. Your unblemished skin looked appetizing, smooth, begging to be licked, bitten, shown the meaning of want. Your breasts, tucked inside your bra, looked too constrained for his taste. He knew what your round breasts looked and tasted like, and he was on the verge of begging for the chance to touch them. He could drive you crazy, he wanted to, and—

He held his breath and slowed his hand, taking you in like a mirage. You squeezed your tits over the bra, moaning under your breath before those same hands moved lower to pull your skirt up. Your legs spread, and he almost jumped, the sight of your slick dripping ever so slightly a pure taunt that he wanted to follow through. But your hand moved down to rub your clit, and he groaned.

You were driving him fucking insane. He could have pumped his cock a bit harder and come, but why the fuck would he when your wet heat was right there? He wanted it, and you, and your tantalizing scent and sensual moans, and—

It was so subtle he almost missed it. While one hand worked your clit and another had fun gripping your chest, your head fell back to breathe heavily, and your feet dangled in his direction before settling. It might have been nothing, but he didn’t need much; he rolled the chair forward slowly, almost imperceptibly. When he was close, he reached his free hand to brush your shin, and you let him. You raised your foot to his lap, and it was all he needed to hold onto you.

He grabbed your leg, tracing it up to settle it, and soon did the same to the other. Then, he didn’t know what happened, only that he was hungry. He touched up your leg, feeling your outer thigh and leaning forward in doing so. This prompted you to breathe heavily and lean into him too, reaching for his head in a familiar motion that had him jumping at the opportunity to finally lick your chest.

You supported the back of his head as he buried his face between your tits, licking and nibbling your flesh mindlessly. Your bra was in the way, so he pulled it down bluntly to access your nipples, and you whimpered. Your breathing was ragged as he suckled, refusing to stop his bites even when you pulled on his hair.

His hand was hitting yours with each pump around his cock, but it only riled him up more. You weren’t stopping, as crazed as him with all that lust. This certainty relaxed him, and when you pulled his head again, he let you guide it.

He found your neck and sucked viciously, groaning into it and trying not to come. You had a scent to you, which mixed with every sweet whimper, made it hard to not find a way to shove himself deep into your embrace. Instead, he focused on kissing and nuzzling up your jaw, and you whimpered, grabbing the hair at the back of his head, but not to turn him away.

You pulled him closer, and his lips grazed the corner of your mouth. He slowed, tentatively leaning to reach the same spot, and you left him despite your hold on him. He nuzzled your cheek and tried again, and you almost met his mouth, and it was the breaking point. You lost your patience and pulled him in to crash your mouths together, pushing your tongue between his lips to create a wild struggle.

Kissing you was everything he thought it was — feral, spicy, dangerous, and sweet. Your tongue was aggressive, mapping his mouth like you owned him, and fighting you back was addictive. He matched you with savage licks, pressing himself hard to you until you needed both hands to grab him close, and so did he.

He grabbed your hair between his fingers, keeping you locked in his kiss, while the other pulled you flush to him. You were breathless but unrelenting, and he shared in that hunger, licking and nipping your lip at the slightest chance.

Your legs wrapped around him, and his cock brushed your core, reminding you there was a way to make it all derail, and you took it. You felt the gun on his shoulder holster pressing to your inner thigh, but it only made you throb and want it harder. He had felt the knife on your garter and had left it there, too. You could use it, and that was part of the thrill. He could use it too, or his gun, or his beautiful long fingers around your neck, and you gushed between your legs.

You scrambled between savage kisses to grab his cock and aim it straight at your core, and he tried getting rid of his pants. Yoongi could do all that, but he wouldn’t, and the power it gave you was inebriating. He was also an agent of the law, someone you despised on principle, which made the way he fucked you so much sweeter. Like two polar opposites, you were drawn to be filled by his cock and use your nails on the back of his neck and shoulders to press him to you.

He groaned into your mouth, opening his eyes to see the way your face scrunched up in pleasure. He’d never admit it, but it was enough to drive him to his knees. You were beautiful but looked preciously delicate when the pleasure he gave you loosened all the control you had.

He snapped his hips to push himself further, and you groaned, grabbing his ass cheeks. You were lost as he moved, letting your mouth hang open as he kissed you all over your face and jaw. He also needed to get used to your tight walls challenging his control.

But once he did, he grabbed your hair and pulled it, forcing your chin to raise and your eyes to meet. You clenched around him, and it was the last straw.

“I’ll show you,” he grunted before supporting a hand on your lower back.

It was all he needed to start fucking you without a preamble, and you closed your eyes and let him take over. His grip on you as he pounded into you gave you the liberty to let go and just feel him. He groaned near your ear as he buried his face in the crook of your neck and it was enough to melt you, reveling in the way he used you so well. You didn’t know how a cop could fuck this fucking good, but—

“Boss! You need to—”

“Out!” You shouted, trying to look back at whoever dared to enter your office without fucking knocking, so you knew who to mess up after this. Yoongi hid further in your neck, but he didn’t stop, thank fuck. “Get the fuck out!”

Whoever it was slammed the door closed quickly, and you almost lost your shit. The fucking audacity—

“Nuh-uh,” the grip in your hair forced you to meet his eyes, your fire facing the cool in his dark eyes. “I’m fucking you right now.”

You clenched around him, and a squeeze of his hand around the back of your neck pulled you down to earth. He felt good, too good. Maybe that was why you were on edge, ready to explode in every direction.

He wanted your focus completely on him, and you melting into him wasn’t enough. He released your neck and slid his hand between your bodies, leaning back to change his angle so he could rub your clit, and you jolted. You peered at him between hooded eyes, only to let your head fall back with a deep groan.

He chuckled as you leaned back to take him deeper, trembling with how good it felt. He loved that look on your face.

“Look at you,” he rasped, his grip on your hip so hard, his fingers dug divots into your skin. “So fucked out.”

You looked down and moaned breathlessly, and he could relate. His shaft was glistening, disappearing inside you in a blur as he pistoned into you, and he almost lost composure.

“You’re creaming my cock,” he taunted, slowing down and seeing how you bit your lip and wishing it was him instead. “So fucking greedy.”

“Shut up, you’re one to talk,” your voice wavered, and he laughed. You were upset because his hips slowed, but his fingers circling your clit didn’t. He could see the way you breathed was ragged, an inch away from your climax, and it was the power trip he was looking for.

He smirked, “You’re right, I’m greedy.”

He reached your arms to pull them around his neck, then held your waist down before jump-starting things again. Your legs wrapped around him, and the moans instantly poured from your lips when he began rutting into you again. You could feel it in all the right spots, especially when your clit ground on him with every thrust. The speed was intoxicating, but it wasn’t the most important. Yoongi deserved a medal for managing to stuff you with his cock while humping your clit consistently. At the lack of one, you tried to kiss him, and he bit you. You whimpered, licking your lip to check for blood while he effectively crushed you to him so he could fuck you senseless.

You couldn’t explain it, but it was all you needed — consistency, an anchor, and the fucking duality of that cop drilling you to oblivion. Finally, when your orgasm sparked, you sank your nails into his shoulders and screamed, and he only embraced you tighter, as if holding onto you. Him grounding you only accelerated your climax; you were like the fuse of a firework, consumed in a split second.

You writhed in his arms as the height of pleasure shook you, but he pressed you down on his cock as if to feel every throb around him. His groan followed closely after, adding a second pulse deep inside you to your clenching. You stopped breathing so you could feel it and hear him, hooked on everything. His damp skin under your lips, his chest heaving against yours, his fingers indenting the flesh of your ass — every sensation contributed to an afterglow that was more sparkly.

So when he pulled back to look at you, with flushed cheeks, disgruntled hair, and the absolutely most exquisite face you had ever seen, you laughed.

He wasn’t bothered and stayed still while you threw your head back and let the laughter shake your shoulders, “We probably fucked up all my paperwork.”

He looked down and noticed the papers under your ass. Considering how wet you were and how he had just pumped you full of cum, it was safe to say you were right.

“I’ll help you,” he said before he could think, pulling away.

You groaned quietly, then jumped to your feet, unbothered by the way you were so close, there was barely any air between you two. “Don’t worry, take your time.”

You walked away and composed your clothes and hair casually as he tucked his dick back inside his pants with his eyes trained on you.

“I need to handle whatever that was,” you said, pointing at the door. Then, with a crooked smile, you tapped his jacket on the chair and said, “Don’t forget your jacket.”

You left without as much as a wave, and he heaved a deep breath. There you went again—

He glanced down and recognized a name on one of your papers. He made sure you weren’t at the door, then took a closer look, and his breath caught.

75 notes · View notes

mikashisus · 2 days

Text

PRIDE OF THE SUN

SYNOPSIS: being a child of apollo was a great honor... until you have a vision about a certain ginger that flips your entire world on its head.

PAIRING: ares kid!tartaglia x apollo kid!fem!reader

warnings: blood, angst

wc: 5.9k

notes: if u couldn't tell, this is a percy jackson au... anyw this whole fic took me the entire day yesterday to write- like no joke i spent 12 hrs on this shit... NEVER AGAIN *looks at drafts* nvm i might have to do this again in the future... u guys will see why soon enough. wink wink.

You hated this. Hated him.

There you sat, on your ass on the hard ground with Ajax’s spear pointed to your throat. You sneered up at him.

One wrong move and that spear would go straight through your neck. You glanced down at the sharp tip and the way it gleamed under the light of the afternoon sun. That only made it all the more menacing.

Truthfully, you were a bit scared he might finish the job and shove the spear right through you. He didn’t… for obvious reasons.

But you swore you saw him move just a tiny bit closer. You swallowed the fear you harbored in your heart, ignoring the way the organ thumped impossibly fast against your ribcage. You would never show weakness in front of him. You would never let him know you were scared.

Revealing your weakness to him was like a rabbit leaping right into a wolf’s jaws.

You refused to be the rabbit.

As he was busy gloating over his victory, you sought an opening. With one swift kick, you knocked him down onto the ground. His spear struck your cheek, leaving a clean cut through the flesh. You barely felt it happen until a stinging rose from the area.

Touching your cheek, you frowned. Blood coated your fingers. Eh, you’d live. It was just a scratch.

You stood up and grabbed his spear, smirking at him as he looked up at you with a fire burning in his eyes. You loved beating down the Ares kids. They were nothing but arrogant bastards, and here you had the best one in camp on the ground with his own weapon pointed at his face.

“Looks like I win, brute.”

Your little distasteful nickname for him made a scowl appear on his face as he slowly stood up and spit blood out of his mouth. He stared at you, brows furrowed and eyes devoid of any life. That was what you hated most about him: his ability to look so fucking terrifying when he wanted to. Or maybe it was without even trying.

He wiped the blood from his lip, the trail staining the side of his chin and his cheek. The earring that hung from his ear sparkled in the light of the sun, and you had the urge to ask where he had gotten it from. It certainly wasn’t from his father… or was it?

You knew his double-edged spear came from his father, but you were skeptical on where he had gotten the earring. Did he even have that a few days ago?

The scary look on his face made you falter for just a second when you whisked yourself back to reality. His breathing was hard, his chest heaving as if he was angry. Suddenly, you felt small and weak under his gaze.

He wasn’t called the strongest child of Ares for nothing.

“That was a dirty trick…” for a second, you thought he was serious, until, “I like your style, sunshine!”

You scoffed, throwing his spear onto the ground and shoving past him. He quickly reached for it and scrambled after you, yapping in your ear all the way. You were beginning to get a headache from his voice.

This wasn’t the first time he chased you around camp while you ignored him, and it definitely wasn’t the first time you two fought. According to the other campers, you “had a history” with each other. That made it sound as if you were once in a relationship, which couldn’t be further from the truth.

You’d never date someone like him– someone so bloodthirsty for power and warfare that it drove them to the brink of insanity.

Okay… so maybe he wasn’t insane (though, you firmly believed he was from that crazed look in his eyes) but he was certainly a warmonger.

Like father, like son.

It was true you had a history, but it wasn’t in the relationship type of way. It was the “I’ll kill you because you insulted me when we were kids” type of way.

When you first arrived at camp, you were eleven years old. Back then, you wanted absolutely nothing to do with anyone or anything. Your own mother casted you out of the house, calling you spawn of the devil for being a half-blood, even though you knew she gloated when it came to the fact that she had a child with a god. You never understood her hatred for you when all she did was brag to her friends about your father.

Out on the streets, with nowhere to go, you learned how to fend for yourself. With nothing on your person but the necklace your father had supposedly given your mother, you did what you could to survive. Your ballads and ugly crying garnered the attention of passerby, and with the little kindness they had in their hearts, they gave you money. You used that money for necessities, like food and water. But you also used it for things you wanted; like, that shiny guitar you saw in the downtown area’s music store.

You saved up enough money to buy it within half a year, luring in passerby with your gift of song. Like a siren’s call, you drew them in, and you quickly learned how to utilize your demigod abilities to get what you wanted. When you bought the guitar and strummed the first chords to a song your mother always absentmindedly sang, that’s when your father appeared before you for the very first time.

And that was how you wound up in camp a few days later. You were guided to the Apollo cabin by your own father, who was way more flamboyant than you expected, and after that, you were left to settle in.

You watched your father disappear into a flurry of golden flames and a soft hum of a heavenly choir. When you turned to your bed, a drawing of a sun was etched into the fine wood of your guitar. Over time, there would grow to be more and more drawings left on your guitar, one for each time your father visited you.

Settling into camp was hard. You were shy, and quiet, and the other kids in your cabin were a bit too outgoing for your liking, a true testament to your father’s personality. At first, it seemed as if you were the black sheep among your siblings. That was quickly proven wrong when a boy who was a year younger than you showed up at your cabin one day, staring at you with a menacing fire burning in his eyes as you played your guitar.

You didn’t notice him right away, as you were too lost in the music and the homey atmosphere of the cabin to even pay attention to what was going on around you. That’s what it was like for you with music: you lost all sense of the material world as you plucked at the strings of your guitar, mentally transporting yourself to a different plane of existence. This was how you– most of the time, connected yourself with your father.

Unbeknownst to you, you were also plucking at Ajax’s heartstrings. Ajax, the boy who was standing in the doorway, completely enraptured by your performance. His eyes lit up with an excitement no one had ever seen in him before. Then, he spoke, his words tumbling fast and loud out of his mouth like a roaring lion.

You jumped, and you were forcefully pulled out of your meditation. The more he rambled on, the more you grew annoyed. You put the pieces together. He was loud; boisterous, bellicose, arrogant, and every step he took made the earth rumble beneath his feet. There was a fire that burned brightly in his eyes, one that screamed ‘Come at me if you dare, I’ll show you what I’m made of.’

There was no doubt in your mind: he was a child of Ares.

Was every child of Ares this full of themselves? He even claimed he was better at the arts than you! How dare he!

That was the first time you cursed him to speak in rhyming couplets for a week straight. You didn’t even know you could do that. When you asked your cabin leader about it, all they said was that you had a lot to learn about what it meant to be a child of Apollo.

And ever since that day, you swore you’d knock Ajax off of his high horse. And boy were you determined to do so.

There were quite a few things you could do that he couldn’t, and one of them was wielding a bow.

You were the most skilled archer at camp. The first time you picked up a bow, you felt the wind rush past you and caress your form. You felt relaxed, at ease, as if you’ve been wielding a bow your whole life– as if you came out of the womb with it clutched tightly in your hands.

Wielding a bow was Ajax’s weakness. It was the one weapon he could never master. You held it over his head like a vice.

All your insults never deterred his advances, and you found your hatred for him growing with each passing day. But you never once gave up trying to prove him wrong. You would prove to him that you were more than what his siblings called you: a siren. You’d prove you were a worthy opponent, and that your skills were worth it in not only his eyes, but the entire camp’s.

It was not just because you hated him, but because he utterly humiliated you on more occasions than you could count on both hands.

As soon as you managed to get out of his reach for today, you let out a sigh of relief and decided to take a nice, warm bath. It was very much needed after a long day of combat training.

You bid hello to your half siblings and made a beeline for the bath as soon as you set your bow down on your bed. When you sunk into the hot water of the bath, you felt as if you were ascending to the heavens. The water felt heavenly against your muscles that were previously screaming. Now, they ached as you gently massaged your calves. Your nose scrunched up from the soreness.

You were on your feet for almost the entire day. It was no wonder your feet felt a little numb from all of the exercise.

Leaning back against the tub, you allowed your whole body to breathe and relax. A knock sounded on the door, and your eye twitched. Just when you thought you had some alone time…

The voice of your half brother, Kaeya, sounded from the other side of the door.

“Hey, sis, you in there? I heard there’s gonna be fireworks tomorrow to celebrate Diluc’s return.”

Diluc was Kaeya’s adoptive brother and a son of Athena. They weren’t on the best terms, but they still considered each other brothers. At least, that’s what you assumed. They’d probably drop dead before ever admitting it out loud.

Regardless of how well they got along, you were also dragged into their little family. Kaeya was a few months older than you, and although that wasn’t much of an age gap, he still liked to call you his little sister.

The first time he introduced you to Diluc, you were scared out of your mind. Diluc was intimidating and he towered over you. It took quite a while for you to be able to talk to him without being terrified of him. Once you saw how much of a big softie he was, the fear was quickly replaced with admiration.

You admired how strong he was and how much he cared for his family.

You jumped up at Kaeya’s words. “What!? That’s tomorrow?”

You heard him chuckle. “Yes, dummy. His pet arrived today with news of his homecoming, so Jean decided to hold a party. There’ll be fireworks!”

Your love of fireworks was well known throughout camp. Although you weren’t a fan of loud noises, you had a deep love for fireworks and their ability to light up the night sky with their beauty.

You wished you could shine as bright as they did. They shone like the sun, and you were a lover of the sun.

Scrambling out of the tub and leaving your warm bath behind, you dried yourself off and threw on a new pair of clothes before exiting the bathroom. Kaeya stood outside, a knowing smirk on his face. Suddenly, you had a bad feeling about going to that party.

Kaeya and that look was never a good omen. It always led to something bad.

“What’s with the face?” He asked, following you to your bed. His was right below yours.

“What face?”

He crossed his arms over his chest. “That one. The one you’re making right now.”

“You have something hidden up your sleeve, don’t you?” You squinted. “Whatever it is, I want no part of it!”

He only snickered, which did nothing to help your suspicions. He climbed onto your bed, ignoring your protests to get off. You threw one of your stuffed animals in his face.

“Get away from me!” You laughed, attempting to fend him off but it was no use.

“I just want a hug from my baby sister!”

You kicked him in the ribs, causing him to double over in pain. He slapped your foot, resulting in a loud ‘OW’ from you.

The next day was the day Diluc was coming home. You asked Jean if you could help prepare, but upon seeing how much she already had done, you realized that she probably didn’t even need your help. Or anyone’s, with the way she was yelling at people to let her do all the work.

“So, your brother’s coming back today, huh?”

You sighed heavily. Of course, Ajax was here to bother you yet again. When would you ever be able to catch a break?

“Yes,” you replied curtly.

He frowned at your cold response. It wasn’t too out of the ordinary for you, but just once he wished you’d talk to him like you talked to your friends.

He tried again. “I never asked how the two of you are related. Or do the two of you just refer to yourselves as siblings because you’re close?”

“It’s none of your business.”

A sigh left your lips, and you grabbed your bow from beside you. Instead of answering his question, you walked off to go practice shooting. Ajax stared after you longingly, the pout on his lips resembling that of a kicked puppy.

He wouldn’t give up in his pursuit.

You couldn’t count how many arrows you ripped through targets in the last hour, but you sure were more aggravated today than you were the day before. Ajax continued to push your buttons, and you were running out of ways to calm yourself down each time.

Meditation with music no longer worked unless you were completely alone, and now you couldn’t even focus entirely on the targets without thinking of his annoying face. One thing that helped was imagining the target was him and that your fire arrows were ripping right through his head.

Kaeya asked you about your hatred for him once, and to his question, you replied, “All he ever does is humiliate me. All he does is shove his skills in my face and boast when I can’t do things that he can. I feel powerless when I’m standing next to him.”

You pulled your arm back again, ready to fire another arrow, when suddenly your vision went white. Not now! You thought, cursing out your own precognition as you watched future events play out.

You assumed it would be the same old, same old of someone getting hurt and needing to be healed by one of your siblings, or a mellow talk between you and Kaeya, but it was nothing of the sort. You even assumed it would be a vision of Diluc returning home, or something that would happen at the party tonight, but it was neither. It wasn’t anything dangerous, either.

Instead, what you saw was Ajax sitting down in front of you on the training grounds. It was dark outside, and the only light sources came from the lanterns hanging in the trees. You were staring up at him with the same scowl you always gave him, but the smile he always wore was nowhere to be seen. In its place was a frown, and in his eyes, the fire that always made itself home there has completely fizzled out.

He reached a hand out to you, the side of his face dripping with crimson red blood. He looked about ready to pass out right then and there. Hesitantly, you took hold of his hand. He pulled you closer to him, wrapping an arm around your form.

You weakly fought against his hold, grabbing onto his shirt tightly. Instead of pushing him away like you thought you’d do, you pulled him closer, until your lips were mere inches apart. He muttered something then, something that was indecipherable to you.

After that, you looked into his eyes with a look you never thought you’d give anyone. Then, his lips met yours, and the vision faded into nothing. You gasped for air, clutching tightly to your chest as a figure in front of you held you by the shoulders. Their voice was frantic, distorted, as the ringing in your ears blocked out everything.

When your vision cleared, you looked up, expecting to see the comfort of Kaeya’s periwinkle colored fluffy jacket, only to see the red of a certain someone’s scarf. The ringing stopped, and you were finally able to hear the voice you loathed.

“Are you okay, sunshine!?” He asked, his eyes filled with worry. “I found you on the ground and you weren’t responding, so I called Chiron. He’ll be here soo–”

You shoved him away from you. “Just stop!” You yelled, overwhelmed from the vision you just witnessed. Your body felt warm and sweat trickled down the back of your neck. You were shaking uncontrollably.

He frowned. “I was just trying to help! You looked–”

“I don’t need your help!” you retorted, your chest heaving as you finally let all your anger loose. “I never have and I never will! Why would I ever need help from the likes of you, anyway? All you do is belittle me!”

His brows furrowed. “What? No, I never meant to–”

“Just go away!” You shoved past him, leaving your broken bow on the ground.

Diluc was happy to be back, but as he scanned the crowd of people at the party, he couldn’t find you anywhere. He could’ve sworn Kaeya said you were here.

He tossed a glare in his brother’s direction, only to see Kaeya just as disappointed at your absence as he was. That was when Mona, one of your half siblings, approached them with a panicked expression on her face. She was breathless from running, and judging by her urgency, there was something wrong.

Kaeya, already having a feeling it was something to do with you, stepped forward. “What happened?”

“It’s (Name)!” Mona panted, taking a moment to wipe the sweat from her brow before continuing. “She had a vision. Ajax said he found her passed out on the ground after leaving the target area. She’s in the infirmary now–”

Kaeya pushed her aside, setting off into a sprint towards the infirmary. Without a second thought, Diluc followed, leaving the party behind.

When you came to, you were in the infirmary. You didn’t know how you got here, but all you could remember was the vision you had hours prior. Your head was pounding– a side effect of precognition, and your whole body felt hot. Did you have a fever?

You sat up, wincing as the sunlight filtering through the curtains hit you right in the face. It did nothing but add to your awful migraine. Where were you? You took a look around, your vision a little blurry from just waking up.

“Well good morning, sleepy head,” a smooth voice said, placing a hand to your forehead, “I was starting to get a little worried you wouldn’t wake up!”

As soon as your vision cleared, you saw none other than your father sitting next to you, a wide smile on his face as he stared down at you. He retracted his hand and placed it in his lap.

“Dad!? What are you doing here?” You questioned, your voice hoarse.

You reached for the cup of water on the table next to the infirmary bed. You gulped it all down in seconds flat and let out a sigh of relief.

Apollo crossed one leg over the other and placed his chin in his palm. “Why do you think I’m here, sunshine?”

That nickname– that dreadful nickname. You used to like when he called you that, but not after Ajax started using it too. It sounded like he was mocking you whenever he addressed you as such.

“I don’t wanna talk about it,” you threw the blanket over your head and curled into a ball, “so go back to Olympus, or whatever.”

Your father chuckled. “You have to tell me everything you saw, sunshine. Otherwise, I won’t leave. And I think we both know that I am a very patient man.”

A tense silence passed. You could still feel his presence in the room even though it was completely silent, devoid of a sound. For a few minutes, you were silent, biting your lip out of nervousness.

Truthfully, you were embarrassed to tell him what you saw. It wasn’t something you wanted to share with your father of all people. And knowing him, he’d tease you to hell and back for it. You wouldn’t say anything, you decided.

“Fine. If you’re going to be stubborn like that boyfriend of yours, then why don’t I tell him what you saw?”

You jumped up, a terrified look in your eyes as your father laughed raucously. You glared at him. He was so vexing sometimes. You never understood a thing he said or did. Then again, you never understood a single thing any of the gods did. You probably never would.

With a heavy sigh, you sat against the wall and explained your vision to him, avoiding his gaze the entire time. It was embarrassing enough you had to tell him, but it would’ve been worse if you were looking at him when you did so.

After you finished, he hummed thoughtfully. “I see,” he muttered, “well, if I had to guess, my dear beloved daughter has a crush on this child of Ares.”

“I do not! And I never will!” You immediately sputtered, feeling your cheeks heat up.

He snickered. “I think you do. After all, that vision spoke for itself.”

You shook your head, adamant that you didn’t harbor any sort of feelings for the ginger you claimed to hate all these years. There was no way you liked that crazed, warmongering lunatic. Your father was off his rocker. Officially.

“It’s false. There’s no way I like that wackjob.” You crossed your arms over your chest. “All he does is fight people. He never stops. It’s so annoying. And don’t get me started on the way he smiles when he gets hurt, like he enjoys it! Who in their right mind is happy when they’re practically bleeding out!?”

Your rambling took your father by surprise, but he was amused nonetheless. This was the first time you got so riled up like this, and all because of a boy. He couldn’t help but find teenage love so, so amusing– especially when you were the one experiencing it.

“I think someone has a crush!” He said again, only for it to be shot down by you once again.

“As if! I’d rather take a swan dive into the bottomless pit where Kronos resides than fall for that warmongering brute!”

He sighed. “The prophecy always comes true, sunshine.”

You shook your head. “Not this time.”

Apollo stood up, placing his sunglasses back over his eyes before handing you something. He ruffled your hair. “You can’t escape fate, my dear. I think you’ll be in for a rude awakening.”

With that, he disappeared into a flurry of golden flames, leaving you alone in the infirmary. On your lap sat a golden lyre, another gift that you would add to your collection of instruments and weapons. This one seemed particularly special, though you couldn’t place your finger on why. But your father’s words echoed in your head, even weeks after his visit.

You avoided Ajax like the plague, ignoring him on most occasions, and making sure you didn’t have to interact with him on others. Until one night, you found yourself training with Kaeya. You excelled with bows, but you were also a swordmaster. Reestablishing a firm grip on your sun blade (gifted to you by your father), you swung your sword at your brother once more, clicking your tongue when you just barely grazed his arm.

Your swords clashed, and with one final push, you knocked him onto his ass. His sword flung out of his hands, landing somewhere in the distance. You let out a small laugh, standing over him with your hand outstretched. He took it without a second thought, and you pulled him to his feet.

“You’ve gotten stronger,” he told you, pride evident in his voice, “how much have you been practicing on your own?”

“A hell of a lot,” you answered, giving him a lopsided smile, “Jean’s been sparring with me. She’s a formidable foe.”

Kaeya laughed, retrieving his sword. “Indeed, she is. Though, it’s rare for you to take her on. Have you been missing your usual victim?” Of course he threw in a tease. He always did.

You sighed. “I’ll admit it’s been a bit boring.”

He raised a brow. “That’s it?”

“What do you mean? What else am I supposed to say? You know I hate his guts.”

He shrugged, though you knew he was hiding something. “I just thought, after your talk with father, you had a change of heart.”

Your heart dropped to your stomach and you froze. “Dad talked to you?”

“Briefly. He told me about your vision. I must say, that vision sure is revealing the desires hidden in your heart–”

“Dad told you!?” You screeched, fear bubbling up inside of you.

If your father told Kaeya, there was a chance he might’ve spilled the beans to Ajax as well. You didn’t know how you could ever face him again. If he knew, you’d have to launch yourself into the nearest pit of vipers and hope you never come back out alive.

Your pride– and your dignity, were ruined.

Kaeya patted your head. “Not the specifics,” he reassured, “just that it included a certain someone. And no, before you ask, he didn’t say anything to said individual. He only told me… and maybe Diluc.”

You groaned before you let out a whine. The next time you saw your father, you were going to kill him. Well, you’d try to.

“I better get back to the cabin,” Kaeya sighed, “I’d like to shower before bed. You coming back with me?”

He hoped you’d say no, but only because he had a little plan hidden up his sleeve.

You shook your head, much to his relief. “I’m gonna stay out here a bit longer. I wanna practice with more dummies.”

He smiled at you, genuinely this time, and pulled you into a tight hug. “Alright. Just don’t wear yourself out. If you aren’t back in an hour, I’ll come and drag you back to the cabin myself.”

You laughed and pushed him away from you playfully. “Yes, mom.”

He laughed softly in return, messing up your hair again as you protested and swatted his hand away, before he set off back to the cabins.

Your smile slowly faded as he got farther away, and you looked down at your sun blade. In the darkness, it looked like just any old scrap of metal, but in the sunlight, it glowed a magnificent gold. It was a sword many children of Apollo had used before you. That’s what your father told you when he had given it to you.

Only the best warriors born from your father were given this sword. And upon their death, it would stop glowing and your father would take it back into his possession before giving it to the next child. When the sword was given to a new owner after the former owner’s death, it would glow brightly again, filled with the life force of whoever wielded it.

You gripped the sword tightly in your hands. You could feel a small thrum run through your fingers. That was the sword. It was talking to you, bonding with your life force. Although it lost many wielders in its life, the sword always glowed again. Just like the sun, it always came back.

The sound of footsteps drew you out of your stupor, and you saw the figure of your arch nemesis approaching you. You let out a sigh. What did he want? And at this time of night, too.

He raised his spear wordlessly. A small, almost invisible smile pulled at his lips. He wanted a fight… again. But this time felt different, as if he had come to some sort of realization. It wouldn’t hurt to allow him this one fight, especially when he wasn’t opening his mouth.

So, you raised your sword and positioned yourself into a fighting stance. A few seconds passed. The air was silent. Then, in a flash, the two of you dashed forward. The sound of clashing metal was loud in your ears, but you were focused– more focused and attuned to your opponent’s attacks than you’ve ever been.

He grazed your arm, you hissed. You slashed his side, he let out a small sound of pain. Back and forth you went, minimally hurting each other and side-stepping and clashing. Finally, you let out a frustrated yell and swung your sword. You didn’t care where it landed, as long as you beat him at his own game.

It happened too fast for you to notice. One moment, you were filled to the brim with adrenaline, and the next, you watched as he collapsed onto the ground, holding the side of his head. It all happened so fast…

You panted breathlessly, your chest heaving as you stared at him in complete and utter shock. The adrenaline was wearing off, and you could finally move your body. You rushed forward, throwing your sword to the ground to kneel beside him, pulling his hand away from the deep gash on the side of his face.

Did you do that?

“Let me see.” You said worriedly. You were experienced with wounds, as most of your siblings were healers.

Before you could get a closer look, he knocked you back. The wind got knocked out of your lungs, and you could feel your head throbbing. You raised a shaky hand to your head and slowly sat up, groaning at the pain.

Ajax stood in front of you, his face devoid of the smile he always wore, and the side of his head covered in crimson blood. Your vision cleared, and when you looked up, your eyes widened. You knew how the next events played out, you saw them for yourself. You gulped, your shock turning into anger as you glared at him.

“I win.” He said flatly.

You huffed, looking away from him. He knelt down in front of you, and you squeezed your eyes shut. You wouldn’t let this play out like it did in your vision.

You wouldn’t.

“There. We’re even,” Ajax muttered, “You pulled a dirty trick on me. I returned the favor.”

You shoved him away, though he barely budged. “That’s just like you. Selfish, prideful. You always have to have the last say, the last laugh.” You spat.

Ajax was quiet for a moment, studying you. You began to feel anxious under his scrutinizing gaze. You fiddled with the grass beneath your fingers.

He held his hand out, and you stared at it. The fire in his eyes was gone, and he looked just about ready to pass out, but you could tell that he was fighting off the urge to close his eyes. You had the chance to get up and leave. You didn’t have to take his hand.

Yet, you found yourself drawn to him. Like a moth to a flame. And so, you grabbed his hand. He held tightly onto yours, pulling you closer to him and wrapping his other arm around the small of your back. You still had the chance to push him away. To let him pass out here on the grass.

But you couldn’t. You couldn’t move a single muscle. You gripped tightly to his shirt as he pulled you closer. Your brows furrowed as he opened his mouth.

“Sunshine, I.. I’m sorry.”

You certainly weren’t expecting that. “For what?”

“For making you feel weak. Your brother told me…”

You were 100% going to punch Kaeya in the face when you got back.

“You’re not weak,” he told you, his voice firm, “I don’t have weak opponents. I have strong ones. Ones who I want to test my strength against because I know they’re gonna send me packing, but I still come back anyways. Because the only way I can get stronger is if I fight those who are stronger than me.”

“I don’t need your–”

“Would you just shut up and listen for once!?” He snapped, holding you tighter.

That made you shut up instantly.

He sighed heavily. “I’m not pitying you. I’m being sincere. I only ever fight against you because you’re strong, and I want to learn from you. My master taught me that every battle is worth it, that every person I fight is someone I can learn from. You’re one of those people. So shut up and realize your own strength. Your own worth.”

You stared at him with wonder in your eyes. He held your gaze.

“You’re the pride of Apollo’s children. Even your father has recognized your strength. Please, just see it yourself. See yourself the way I do.”

“I…” You couldn’t say anything. You didn’t know how to respond, so you did the only way you knew how.

You pulled him closer, pressing his lips to yours in a slow, gentle kiss. His lips were chapped, and you could taste the metal of the blood from the cut on his upper lip. His kisses were messy but gentle, as if you were fragile and he was handling you with the utmost care.

When you pulled away, he leaned his forehead against yours. A smile erupted onto his face, so dazzling you felt as if Cupid had struck an arrow through your heart at that very moment. He let out a content sigh.

“Do you see now?”

“I don’t know…” you trailed off, “maybe if you kiss me again, I will.”

He chuckled, his warm breath hitting your face. You smiled, caressing his face with your thumb. “And I thought I was slick.”

You hugged him tightly, scared of letting him go now that you had him in your embrace.

“(Name)... I feel dizzy…”

“Oh shit!”

You spent that night in the infirmary, nursing his wounds.

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