#and the fact that I am white and very well-spoken

[naamahdarling]

If you look into antipsychiatry as a movement you will find a lot of suggested alternatives. I don't subscribe wholeheartedly to every part of the movement, and it has meant different things at different times, but as an angle of activism, I do agree with most of the points made by the people who define themselves as part of it. In its current form, psychiatry exists primarily to oppress. (see: the purpose of a system is what it does.) It was founded on the oppression and suffering of stigmatized human beings.

To begin with, the abolition of psychiatric imprisonment is absolutely required, and destigmatization of suicidality and most other behaviors that psychiatry currently deems worth imprisoning people over. The acknowledgment that the current system creates suicidality and trauma, and that way, way more people emerge further damaged from inpatient treatment than healed. Reparations to those who have been harmed, or their surviving loved ones.

Crisis prevention in the form of resources including UBI, health care, and housing for all.

Holding medical professionals and therapists heavily accountable for their behavior, with patient-led enquiries into abuse (i.e. review boards are not solely or primarily medical professionals, but patients, including those with trauma).

Community-based support such as drop-in centers staffed by peers and peer counselors, short-term lodging for those who want observation. The establishment of hotlines and warmlines staffed by peers and which do not funnel into the 911 system (in the USA).

Making psych meds (ALL meds) available without contracts that demand patients comply with restrictions, on an informed consent model. (Specialists in these meds and in mental health should exist! Just like we have specialists for heart or skin conditions. They should not have the power they do. They should not wield more legal power over a person than a cardiologist. The psychiatric profession as it currently exists will never give up that power willingly, which is one of the reasons it needs to be completely reimagined from the patient's perspective.)

Abandoning the DSM as a primary diagnostic tool. Abandoning the idea of discrete diagnoses as definite and certain things, and of the idea of a specific diagnosis being required for treatment. A priority placed on patient experience, not medical control of the patient. Redefining things from an inside perspective and not an outside perspective (people with ADHD often dislike the term, for example, because they see it as defined by what others observe and are inconvenienced by).

Destigmatization of addiction, decriminalization, harm reduction, the rejection of the 12-step model as THE model for recovery (or even a particularly effective one), the abandonment of recovery as the primary goal of treatment for addiction or ANY mental health condition.

Making meds equitably available to those who want them, neither forcing patients into them nor withholding them entirely.

There are valid questions about how to handle certain kinds of crisis. What if someone is a threat to others? Well, in a less horrible system, the following would be true: the person would ideally have supportive people around them that knew they had these issues and could intervene sooner and provide information to responders, the person would have a home and food and health care they could not lose (people who don't have these unsurprisingly wind up in crisis waaaay more often), the person would not have been provoked by law enforcement or psych staff (a VERY common reason for psych patients to lose their shit), the person would have a safe place to self-isolate in advance if necessary, the person would have time to recover and STOP being a risk, the person would be able to access help afterwards to debrief and develop helpful strategies to avoid or manage another such event, the person would have access to an environment that felt safe to them in which to be helped, any round the clock care situation they entered into would be by consent only and hopefully part of a preestablished protocol....

A person in this kind of environment would be far less likely ever to BE a danger to others in the way we imagine (and what we typically imagine is already inaccurate and heavily biased). MOST crises could be avoided entirely, leaving the subset that could not be avoided by these means to be evaluated separately as a group, and better strategies developed for them.

There are few easy answers, and the easy answers we do have (stop abducting and imprisoning people) do not possess easy solutions. But any of the things I have described would reduce crisis. Many of them are goals of social justice anyway.

Anyway, I encourage people to look into these issues and into criticism of and alternatives for every aspect of the psychiatric field, because most are broken or at the very least inadequate. If you can't quite bring yourself to abandon the idea of locking suicidal people up, fine. But look into alternatives to inpatient facilities as they currently exist to see what else is out there. If you can't bring yourself to abandon the idea that people should be forced into addiction treatment, look into the effectiveness of coerced treatment, and look into the effectiveness of traditional models of addiction treatment, look into harm reduction. If you can't abandon the idea of mental illnesses as being definite entities as opposed to useful generalizations, look into the origin of each diagnosis, and how people with it were treated 20 or 50 or 100 years ago.

You don't have to agree with everything to change your thinking about something, and I highly encourage every single one of you to do so.

It would help reduce great social harms, and you'll meet some pretty cool people on the way!

One major factor that makes the nature of psychiatric treatment intrinsically violent is the fact that the boundaries of the patient is considered an obstacle to treatment. The lack of consent of the patient is considered an obstacle to treatment. These obstacles are abhorred by psychiatry and considered things that much be broken down. If the patient has a disagreement with the treatment, or objects to it, this is considered a symptom and therefore is seen as something not to be validated or respected. Thoughts, behaviors, beliefs; these are all considered symptoms if they are in opposition to treatment and must be broken down. However, compliance with treatment is almost never seen as disordered or symptomatic, even if the patient is fawning or similarly complying to avoid more harm done to them. The fact that only extreme compliance is accepted by psychiatry is inherently violent and conditions people to accept abuse. Isolation and violence are not vectors of healing.

[larcenywrites]

For Love, We Sin the Most

Nightcrawler x Reader

Technically spoilers if you read any x-men anthology and haven't made it through second coming/ haven't read quest for nightcrawler. I don't get into many details or stay very canon anyway lol

Warnings: 18+ | no pronouns or assignments used for reader | unprotected sex | sex in a church | kinda public sex? | an established relationship of some kind ;) | sad | but happy ending! sort of | lots of plot with some porn | comfort/fluff | a little foreplay, a little aftercare | light bondage? sorry I really love his tail

Word count: 2,650

Summary: The resident catholic is having a hard time settling with the terms of his resurrection and just trying to feel again.

When Rachel frantically called on you to find Nightcrawler, you probably preferred to find him in battle, fighting demons. Luckily, on a Sunday morning, you knew exactly where to look first, creaking open the large wooden door just enough to pass through into the small lobby. The lights were off, but there was low singing from further inside. You would have proceeded to peek past that second set of doors, but the quick flick of blue that curled out from the sunlight and into the shadows nearby finished your investigation for you. 

Well, you did, in fact, find him fighting demons.

This would normally be the part where you'd tease him about being terrible at hiding, but you didn't need to see his face to hold your tongue. Instead, you found a nearby panel of switches, flooding his side of the room in low light. Without the darkness, he could no longer blend and hide, but he didn't recoil. Hunched over, his hands were clasped together on his knees, and his tail tightly curled over his feet. You approached him wordlessly. You could tell he was focused but not on you, proven when he crossed himself right on cue. A cue you hardly heard yourself. 

He continued to sit still for a few minutes. Obviously, he knew who stood before him. Otherwise he would have hid. Taking a deep breath, you placed a hand on his shoulder. "Shouldn't you be attending the service?" You asked softly. 

"I," he finally choked out after several moments. "I'm not sure I am allowed to anymore." His words, although quiet, dripped with despair. For him, this welcoming foyer was his ancient narthex, created for those who weren't allowed into the sanctuary but still wished to listen to its sermon. 

"Have you spoken to a Father about it?" Without further knowledge, you can only suggest a priest. 

"And what would I say?" Kurt raised his voice in his anguish and grimaced at his own volume. "What would he say?" He tagged on, much quieter this time. He practically curled into himself as if he were cold. You sighed sadly at the sight, looking away. A small staircase in the corner caught your interest and gave you another idea. Reaching your hands down to his, you unfurled his hands from one another and took them into yours. At the gesture, he finally lifted his head to look at you. It took all you could not to take his sad face in your hands instead. 

"I think he would tell you to come in," you reply in a gentle whisper. You smile down at him as you barely tug him towards you, convincing him to stand. When he finally does, you study him. His black blazer and black slacks, his white button-up shirt. A few top buttons were messily undone, but it only made him more handsome. Silently, with a hand in his, you led him up those wooden steps. Your intuition was right when they opened into a high balcony overlooking the inner room. That narrow gallery stretched against the wall was mostly dark, with only the tops of stained glass windows bleeding in light over the single row of benches. There was a reason someone like him chose such a dark, unpopulated church. 

As you began to leave the doorway, deadweight stopped you in your tracks. Looking back, a pair of downcast yellow eyes glowed under the wooden arch. Naturally, he blended into the shadow. You came back to him, taking his other hand and settling between him and the wall. At the very least, maybe it would help for him to see this place again, you figured. You let him listen, watching him closely as he watched the floor. 

And what a horrible day for a sermon about heaven. 

"I saw it, you know," he barely spoke up, accent whispering like a snake. "Paradise." He said the word hauntingly, not with any grandeur nor remorse. He turned his head as he spoke, looking down at the alter, but he seemed distant. Perhaps in memory. The light of the window caught his eye and reflected brilliant pale yellow. In the darkness, the other was like fire. 

"And yet you came back," you whispered back. Even you weren't quite sure what you meant by it, but he knew it wasn't merely an observation. Contemplating, he stared down into the room. The priest below continued, but you only wanted to hear whatever else Kurt had to say. 

"There were many reasons I did what I did," he soon continued, still not looking at you. "Did it the way I did." He never told you the full story, not even Logan knew. You waited for more, but he didn't respond. He probably didn't want to talk about it—at least, not for another few minutes.

"I never thought that love would be my greatest sin," he finally said. "I wanted so badly to come back," he nearly sobbed, quickly putting his hand over his mouth to keep from interrupting the service below. He gathered himself for a few moments. 

"To this place," he continued, "to my friends," he sighs before turning towards you, his fiery orbs still refusing to meet your gaze, "to you." Even when you cupped his cheek in your hand, his hand you left behind followed, fingers wrapping around your wrist. "That it would be greater than my love for God," he started but didn't finish when his voice began to rise again. By now he was rambling about things you hardly understood, but you hung on to every word. 

"You said it yourself," you gently tease, more loving than lighthearted. "There is no love without sin." With a soft smile, your touch on his cheek stroked over the fur on his neck and drifted over what bare upper chest those undone buttons revealed. You knew you shouldn't, not here, but as his expression only grew more somber, you found yourself sliding your hand further, reaching the space above his heart for only a second before frantic yet gentle fingers pulled you away, afraid of what you'd find.

Or the lack thereof. 

You couldn't stand to see him so sad, not even willing to look at you. As the preaching continued somewhere down below, something about fulfillment, there was really only one thing on your mind as you continued to watch his pained eyes. "Do you miss it?" You didn't mean to let your emotion ring in your tone as you whispered— doubt, disappointment, sadness. He picked up on it, raising his face once more to meet your gaze. Solemn eyes panicked, realizing his mistake. With a change of posture, he stepped closer, grasping your arm and placing your palm over his chest again. "Not in the same way I missed here," he reassured you. His eyes were still sad, but so earnest. You could feel the metal cross hanging from his pendant with how hard he pressed your palm into his chest. You both stared at one another in silence, but understanding. 

Something about the word doom was quietly uttered through the archway.  

"I realize now that I had already found Paradise," he proclaimed longingly, leaning in slightly. Though flattered, you only half-smiled. 

"You shouldn't talk like that here," you whispered, cupping his jaw. "Surely it's a sin." 

And he'd already cut his path of redemption short enough. 

"And yet it would be a sin not to." His tone was almost desperate. He leaned in closer, head tilted dangerously close to a kiss. You began to protest, but his grip on your arm tightened in defiance. "My soul is already adrift elsewhere," he hissed in a hurried whisper, "and He has no use for my body." He shook his head in defeat, tilting his chin to kiss the hand that held him before looking back up. "So if it's all I have left, I will use it to worship who does." His voice cracked against your lips, and he practically fell into you. 

Your back hit the wall with a thud that made you panic, but any protest of his name was muffled and lost between his lips. He could only follow what made him feel at the moment, and he'd come to his senses later, but right now, he was desperate to atone for his sins in a different way. It was a long, suffocating kiss that was touch-starved, hardly focused on any particular pleasure other than the need for your warmth. Despite knowing your current circumstances, you relaxed into him, taking your hand from his face and gripping the soft, indigo curls on the back of his head. He took that as his cue to press into you impossibly more, knees knocking with yours as you both nearly buckled from his weight. 

Finally, he pulled back just enough to catch his breath, warm breath fanning against your cheek a few times before eagerly diving back in. This time, he moved with you. Your noses knocked each time he rolled his head to find his favorite angle, and, in annoyance, you tried to hold him still with your hand on his neck and your grip on his hair. In response, his lips parted, tongue lapping at your top lip and tentatively touching yours when you let him in. 

His grip on your waist was harsh, almost as if he was scared that if he let go even a little, he might lose this moment forever. As if he couldn't hold you enough, his tail joined in, wrapping itself beneath your ass and tightly snaking around your waist. You felt him smile into the kiss when you pet over the peach fuzz of his tail before he abruptly pulled away from your lips, tongue sliding over your bottom lip as he withdrew into your neck. Sweetly, he kisses your pulse. And you know where he's going. 

"We should 'port somewhere else," you suggest softly. The light kisses on your neck become open-mouthed and wet, showing you just what he thinks about your suggestion. You catch the words reunion with God bouncing off the wall, and you weren't sure if the devil himself said it or the clergyman was sermonizing below. You tilted your head back for him at the prickling feeling of his fangs. 

With a mind of their own, your hands worked down the rest of the button on his shirt, splaying your fingers through the velvety fluff of his chest, barely able to feel the warm beating of his heart. At least you knew that he was alive, in some way or another. 

Making sure you could feel all of him, you pushed his blazer and shirt off his shoulders, feeling him down and scratching over his abs just the way he used to like it, and he tensed them just the way you remember. 

When his hands left your hips to slide off his clothes, they came back to do the same to you, sliding under your top and over your bare skin. You let him undress you, and eventually, you both stood nude. 

Even after being… gone for so long, he remembered just where to touch you. He held your hips flush with his while licked over your nipple, pawed between your legs, and tickled your inner thigh with the curling of his fuzzy tail. Feeling boneless, the wall helped him to hold you up while you focused on covering your mouth to muffle your pleasured moans and sighs. 

You were suddenly spun around, strong arms wrapped tightly around you as they swiftly lowered you to the wooden floor. Kurt's lithe form settled between your legs, back bowed as he bent down to mouth over your stomach. On his knees, he worshiped you carnally, hands gripping over-excitedly at your thighs and waist. 

Fingers around your wrist pulled your hand from your mouth, quickly replaced with that crushing pair of full lips again. Some would say he was desecrating holy ground, but Kurt would say quite the opposite. In a nest of clothes, right there in the dark loft of his place of faith, he took you. Whether it was because he was most comforted here or because he was angry at the circumstances, his hips pumped into you with a fervor that had you clawing into his back and biting his shoulder to muffle your whines. 

The floor was cold and hard and uncomfortable as he rocked you back and forth, but he was the opposite— warm and soft and lovingly fucking you into the ground. Luckily, the pious music drifting through the doorway covered up the sound of his cock slapping into you and his hissing moans as you bit and carved the punishment of love into his skin. 

You were ripped from his shoulder when he sat up, not even bothering to cover your gasping moan at the change in angle. Blunt nails dug into your skin as he held your hips, making your legs squirm and draw up behind him with the overstimulated pleasure. 

It was like a perverse religious painting, with his cross pendant wildly swinging above you and fangs gleaming along with his eyes; his tail, pointed like a devil's, bound your legs around his waist. This was heaven to him right now, watching you arch your back off the ground and eyes fluttering heavily as you both found that perfect sweet spot. 

It was when you came on him that his glowing eyes beheld the glorious sight he was searching for. He kept going, desperate to keep the image of your moaning, parted lips in his mind, and keep the feeling of your warm cream that dripped over his cock. "Oh~ mein gott," he growled at the way you tightened around him. You could almost laugh at the way he said it if you weren't busy trying to recover. "(Y/N)," he panted and spoke your name like gospel. "My dearest."

Your only response could be a meek whimper of his name, but it was enough when you weakly rolled your head to look up at him. If you couldn't tell by the way his brows raised and furrowed, you knew that he was right on the edge by the constriction of his tail around your ankles, keeping you bound around him while he came, throbbing, deep inside you. 

It was quiet now, aside from panting and the sounds of the congregation conversing and slowly departing that same creaking door that got you here in the first place. You felt you could finally relax and close your eyes when the last of the noise was shut out with the door, and you could finally stretch out your legs again as you felt his tail unravel. He had the same idea, stretching out his legs when he fell into your side. He let you have your space, but that sneaky tail laid loosely over your thigh. 

You felt a sort of regret for him as you turned to take in the proper view of his nude form lying elegantly in your bed of disheveled clothes, wishing to know what this meant for him… but you weren't going to ask, letting him bask in release— whatever kind it was. You reached for his pendant, twirling the chain between your fingers and observing the discoloration of the metal cross. Without even opening an eye, he took your attention away from it with a touch, making you hold his hand against his chest instead. 

"I-" You eventually break the silence but pause, unsure what excerpt you should say. It gets his attention, eyes lifting to look into yours. You muster a smile. "I'm glad you're back," you say softly, simply. Despite the circumstances, despite what it meant, despite what it's already done to you, you wanted to add, but his own bittersweet smile already knew what you meant. 

"Me too," he whispered and brought your hand up from his chest to kiss your knuckles. "Me too, my dear." 

[formulawolff]

xiv. the aftermath - t.w.

pairing: female driver!reader x toto wolff

word count: 3.3k

warnings: ANGST, lots of angst, mentions of sexual relationships, slight mentions of misogyny, cursing, slut-shaming, mentions of divorce, toto is lowkey yearning through this messiness, yadayadayada

prev. | next.

“do you have any idea how serious this is?”

you huff, rolling your eyes slightly, “i am quite aware.”

“you are actively engaging in a sexual relationship with the team principal of another–”

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“james,” a voice interjects, “do not make assumptions. we are not quite aware of the details or nature of their relationship.”

james scoffs, folding his arms across his chest, “i think i have a pretty good idea of the nature of their relationship. she fucking kissed him. in front of the entire world, nonetheless. it was not just a small peck either it–”

“james,” the voice’s tone shifts, hardened with a sternness, “she’s a twenty-two year old woman. she can speak for herself. i am aware that you are very passionate about the current reputation of the team, but i think we need to let her speak for herself, hmm? would you like to make a comment regarding the incident in monaco?”

your gaze falls on sir patrick head, co-founder of williams racing. surrounding you were members of the board, along with members of the management committee. all around, the paper white walls of the board room were blank, reminiscent of an interrogation room. the lack of notebooks, tablets, and laptops on the table were no help either, as you felt the entire focus of the room was lasered in on you. to your left was james, alex on your right. 

marcus prosser, one of the heads of commercial and marketing sat across from you, his phone lying on the table, recording every single second of the ongoing conversation. you swallow the lump in your throat, shifting uneasily in your chair. 

“do you want me to start from the beginning again or?”

“if you would like,” patrick shrugs, “you are not inclined to share every detail regarding your relationship with the mercedes team principal. we would like to know the gist of it, that’s all. is it strictly personal? borderline business? has he spoken of any future contract deals? that sort of thing.”

“well,” there was no reason to lie anymore, “after the first grand prix, in bahrain, he approached me. that was the beginning of our personal relationship.”

“did he mention any sort of thing about a future contract with mercedes?” marcus inquires, jotting down a few notes, “look, to put it plainly, the fia wants to ensure that your contract was not breached. that is the main thing that everyone is buzzing about. if he approached you with a contract deal and then began a personal relationship with you, then that’s textbook manipulation. mostly due to the fact that he was using the deal as leverage to kindle that relationship. and he deserves to be punished for that.”

“but what about me?” you raise a brow, “i consensually agreed to the personal relationship. i wanted–”

“you have to remember that you are thirty years younger than this man,” marcus’ voice is quiet, “he took advantage of you. he knew your age, and he began a relationship with you.”

“what happened to me being an adult?” you counter, “i am so sick of this bullshit that everyone is spreading around. i wanted a relationship with him. it wasn’t like he cornered me and demanded that we start seeing one another. it developed over time–”

“developed over time?” patrick’s brow furrow, “elaborate on that.”

“oh my god. i feel like we’ve been over this about a million times,” you exhale, “the relationship started in bahrain after the grand prix. we have been seeing one another in private since that night. i made things public in monaco. are we forgetting that here? that i was the person who initiated that kiss?” 

“so in summary,” marcus clears his throat, his eyes honed in over the plethora of notes before him, “you placed eighth in bahrain. toto wolff approached you later that evening, stating that he wanted a personal relationship with you. in these last few weeks, the two of you have been engaged in a romantic relationship. is that correct?”

“let’s not forget that in that time, he did approach me inquiring about her contract,” james interrupts, “that was around jeddah or miami, i don’t really recall the details.”

“while i appreciate the statement,” marcus’ eyes narrow, glaring over at the team principal, “i was speaking to your driver.”

sucking in a breath, you nod, “everything we have discussed thus far has been answered to the best of my ability.” 

“i see no further need for questioning,” marcus leans forward, pressing the stop icon on his screen, “if no parts of her contract have been breached, then i see no issue with their relationship. additionally, i trust that she has a good head on her shoulders and would not betray the team in any fashion. however, if there are future contract talks or negotiations, then you must facilitate a meeting with not only us and mercedes, but with the fia. they will want to ensure that you are not treated differently than any of the drivers or given perks that most drivers are not.” 

“that’s it?” james coughs, “what about—“

“you can speak with her on your own accord,” patrick leans back in his chair, folding his hands behind his head, “you have to remember james, she has won us a significant number of grand prixes. she is currently in first place for the title. and with her current trajectory, i do envision her standing on that podium, showered in champagne.” 

“you see,” marcus taps his pen against the table, “if anyone’s reputation is suffering, it’s toto’s. he is the one who has a family. he is the one with an established career at mercedes. our american girl here, sponsors, investors, and the general public can forgive and forget. especially when there are world titles at stake.” 

“but what about our team?” james retaliates, his voice growing louder with each and every word, “what about our reputation?” 

“to be quite honest,” james, the other marketing head chips in, “we haven’t seen much talk regarding our reputation. most of the focus is on toto, like marcus said. additionally, imagine the publicity that are going to come out of this. drive to survive has already sent usa number of inquiries regarding an episode about our american girl. the fans are raving. in their words, they’re excited for the drama that will unfold in the coming season.” 

“so to clarify,” you pipe up, “i’m not in trouble?” 

“no, you’re not in any sort of trouble,” patrick’s voice was gentle as he spoke, “this is something that has never happened before in the history of formula one. there is sort of a grey area. at least, right now. per your contract, we cannot dictate who you can or cannot date. however, if you end up deciding that you would like to join toto at mercedes, please be as transparent with us as possible. additionally, be forewarned that the fia may not allow it due to conflict of interest.” 

“right,” you nod, fiddling with your thumbs, “i thought i was going to lose my seat, if we’re being honest.”

“as long as you do not leak confidential team information with mr. wolff, then i do not see an issue with it,” patrick affirms, “we can’t afford to lose you. you’re our little shining star.” 

at his tenderness in his words, tears brim your eyelids, threatening to spill over. your lower lip trembles, alex wrapping an arm around your shoulders as your voice shakes, “i-i can’t th-thank you guys enough. for everything. thank you for sticking by my side as we figure this mess out.”

“it’s not the worst we’ve seen,” a chuckle bubbles up in patrick’s throat, “sure, we may appear to have a no-nonsense policy, but we consider ourselves to be pretty flexible. also, this isn’t a mess. honey, it’s your personal life. of course we’re going to make sure that your well-being is prioritized. if you want to pursue a relationship with this man, we just want you to be happy.”

“besides,” marcus shoots you a wink, “it’s our job to keep the press at bay. if you would like, we can release a statement that we have thoroughly investigated the matter and will not make any further comments. that will keep the media satisfied until mercedes releases their own statement.”

“that would be nice,” you sniffle, wiping away a tear, “again, thank you so much. you guys have no idea how much this means to me.”

“we’re not going to force you to end things with someone just because you’re on different teams,” patrick rises to his feet, crossing over to you. patting your shoulder, he continues, the corners of lips curled into a sympathetic smile. 

“besides, susie wolff worked with us for quite some time. although the circumstances are a little bit different this time around, this wouldn’t be the first time we’ve had a williams driver and a mercedes team principal involved in a romantic relationship.”

in the wake of monaco, it almost felt as if your little secret was completely exposed, for the entire world to pick apart and ridicule. 

well, it was your fault, after all. 

to make things worse, you could no longer seek out your escape, as he was thirty-nine miles away. 

in the moments following the kiss, the wave of realization came crashing over the two of you, the cameras flashing, gasps arising from the crowd. you were whisked away by james, the image of toto almost disappearing as more and more journalists swarmed him, their phones and mics poised, eager for any sort of information regarding what just occurred. 

it didn’t take long for the headlines to be blasted all across social media, tabloids, and any sort of press associated with the world of formula one. 

toto wolff, team principal of mercedes-amg petronas, was deeply involved in an affair with the twenty-two year old williams driver.

to put it lightly, you spent the following hours sobbing in your motorhome, the guilt filling you to the brim, pouring out as the tears splattered all over your pillow. 

alex was the first one to offer solace, reaching out hours after the monaco grand prix. 

when you didn’t answer the phone after about sixty-seven calls, he showed up, flowers and snacks in hand, a mix of emotions painted across his features. 

yet, the second he noticed the tears, he set the items down at the door, scooping you up in his arms, rubbing your back as the sobs rang out, filling the space with your wails. 

“are you okay?”

“d-does it look i’m okay?”

“can i come in?” 

“if you even want to talk to me right now. the entire world hates me.”

“even if the world hates you, i love you. let me in.”

so, you allowed him in, your walls crumbling completely as you started from the very beginning, recalling every possible detail. you began with bahrain, filling in the spaces through monaco, including the spat with daniel, as well as your time in brackley. at first, alex was stone-faced, taking it all in. however, once you were finished, wiping away your tears once again, he leaned over the couch, offering you a tissue. 

“you’ve been wiping away your own tears the last few hours. let someone else do it for you this time.”

the only aspect you did not include was the offer to sign with mercedes. as much as you wanted to tell someone, to get that crushing weight off your chest, you knew you couldn’t. that was far too risky. well, not like there were many risks left. your biggest secret had been spilled to the entire world, no thanks to you. 

so much for keeping things between the two of you. 

as much as you wanted to believe that the other drivers despised you after monaco, that was far from the truth. 

lando, charles, lewis, george, and oscar had reached out, mostly voicing their support. lando was shocked, but he was more concerned about your well-being. same with oscar and charles. 

lewis and george on the other hand, had somehow gotten ahold of your number, leaving a series of voicemails. 

hey, hey, hey. it’s lewis. george and i want to come over and talk for a little bit, if that’s okay? i promise we just want to comfort you. toto is not doing too well either. if you want, we can sneak him over here somehow. it may be kind of hard, but we’ll try our best to make it happen. 

hello, it’s george. we know that you’re really in the chatting mood right now, but we want to come over and bring toto. we know you need him. we would just make sure that no one comes by or bothers the two of you. just let us know what’s the best option. i hope you’re okay. 

however, you never called the british drivers back. 

it wasn’t like you didn’t want them to bring toto or comfort you, it was just the matter at hand. 

they didn’t deserve to be whisked into this. 

and fuck, they sure as hell did not deserve any negative press if they were spotted around your motorhome or speaking with you.

sure, you were really fucking scared of was what to follow in terms of your future career following the kiss of monaco, but you were more apprehensive of the press. the fia was vicious at times, but nowhere near as ruthless as the headlines, articles, and videos the press created. if the fia was a storm, the press was a hurricane.

and sure enough, it seemed as if the media was never going to let this go. even though the entire grid was prepping for canada, here the press was, pestering you for comments or tidbits on your little “affair” with the team principal. they nearly salivated over it, the slightest morsel or crumb of information dramatized into a lengthy article or used for clickbait, generating thousands upon thousands of views. 

you were called a slut. you were called a whore. you were referred to as a homewrecker. it was stated over and over again that you should never set foot in a garage or sit behind the wheel of a car ever again. 

this is why women should not be in formula one. they fuck everyone and everything in sight. even married men. 

god, what a fucking slimy slut. fucking a married man? breaking up a family? the fia should ban her from competing for the foreseeable future. 

yet, the general public was unaware of one crucial piece of information. 

toto wolff was a single man. 

a very single man. 

˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖

“i cannot believe you. i cannot fucking believe you.”

toto wolff sat in his office chair as a figure paced back and forth, shaking her head, her tone laced with a venomous barb. 

before him stood susie wolff, her neatly cut hair bobbing as she moved, “toto, you have fucked up before, and i have happily stood behind you, supporting you with everything i have. but this? oh my god. oh my fucking god. this is absolutely atrocious.”

yet, the team principal’s mind was focused on other matters. 

his mind wandered, relishing the way your plush lips felt in that moment in monaco. the way your arms were around his neck, pulling him closer and closer to you as your mouths molded together, his tongue slipping in as your head rolled back, granting him more access. the way your beautiful lashes fluttered. the way you marched up to him, determination deeply embedded across your gorgeous face. the way the entire world around slowed, the team principal completely lost in you as the cameras recorded, taking in every second of the kiss. 

fuck, he missed you. 

too much. 

so much that he took every blow from susie’s frustration with ease, still as a statue as she continued on, the words drowning in his ears. 

“are you even fucking listening to me right now?” the question snaps him out of his trance, the team principal blinking.

“sure.”

“what the fuck is wrong with you?” she growls, pointing a finger at him, “do you have any idea how much this has diminished our reputation? our marriage?”

“what marriage? we’ve been divorced for some time, susie.”

“the marriage we’ve been putting on for the cameras!” the blonde exhales, bringing a hand to her temple, “we’re supposed to be happily married, toto. or was that something that slipped your mind as you were fucking that little american driver? in our home, nonetheless.”

at the sheer spite in her tone, the team principal’s jaw clenches, “you have no idea what you’re talking–”

“i know you toto,” fingers massage her temple, “it’s pretty obvious that you’re screwing her. if you weren’t, you would have dropped her like a fucking hat the moment she pulled that little stunt in monaco.” 

since monaco, the days blurred together. 

how was he supposed to rebuild his broken reputation, his shattered world when you were thirty-nine miles away? 

well, not like there was much to repair. 

after the incident, the team principal was thoroughly investigated by mercedes, as well as the fia. he answered every single one of their questions with his full capabilities, ensuring to include every detail that would grant him some grace. well, there were a few things he left out. 

one, your visit to brackley. 

two, the numerous conversations involving his offer to sign you with mercedes. 

three, the fact that you were joining him at mercedes for the 2025 season, driving alongside george russell. 

there were no recorded conversations, messages, or evidence proving that he was planning to sign you. so, there were no repercussions. the only incident found was the time he spoke with james, inquiring about the details of your current contract. 

sure, toto was a little careless when it came to keeping things private. 

but he was not an idiot. 

he was not going to lose his job over this, that was for sure. if the fia was to discover about his offer to make you a world champion at mercedes, he would be terminated immediately. so, that part was to remain in the dark. 

at least, for the time being. 

after speaking with the board members of williams racing, mercedes made it very clear that if there were to be talks of signing the american driver, or even hints of wanting her to join the team, then it needed to be officiated among both teams, in a space where the conversation could be recorded. there were to be no special perks, exceptions, or favoritism towards the driver. each and every aspect of a future contract would be detailed in a manner to ensure fairness and equality. 

additionally, since this was one of the first few times that a team principal was involved in a romantic relationship with a driver, there were not a lot of rules or regulations regarding the subject. the fia made it clear that they truly had no direction or idea of how to go about the matter. and since it was not a prominent issue in the world of racing, they were going to leave it up to the teams to deal with the matter. 

thank god for the gray areas. 

yet, there were repercussions. consequences of his actions. 

and one of those repercussions was standing before him, her eyes narrowed, her brows knit together, foot tapping against the floor.

“toto, just tell me this one thing.”

“and that is?” toto presses, leaning back in his chair. 

susie inhales a sharp breath, her fiery gaze breaking away from the team principal as she stares at the floor, eyes glossy from the promise of tears. 

“are you in love with her?”

taglist: @k3ira13 @prettiest-at-the-party @martwll @annewithaneofthegreengable @zoeyjadetice2010  @sinners-98-world @laura-naruto-fan1998 @nebarious @joalslibrary @swifth0lic @statuewoman @strangegirl974 @thatgirlthatreadswattpad @m-1234 @whoisss @msbyjackal @annaaepf1 @paigelouise @bborra @bblouifford @upsteadsstuff @omgsuperstarg @younxii @toldyouitwasamelodrama @kravitzwhore @persona1lies @pucksandpower

as always, if i forgot to include you, or if you would like to be added, please let me know! i'll try to get you added asap! thank you all for the continuous support! i love y'all so much! <3

[heart-of-the-morningstar]

✨ Behind (Not So) Closed Doors✨

As promised, here’s a little story of the one prompt I got a little bit ago! Literally no one voted ‘no’ on the poll for this story and I think that’s hysterical, bunch of thirsty mfs (affectionate 💖)

Lucifer x f!sinner reader

Summary: You catch Lucifer acting out on his most carnal desires…

Warnings: 18+, smut, masturbation, voyeurism, fingering, hand job, (oral m & f receiving), p in v

You remember first meeting the King of Hell on the day you checked yourself into the Hazbin Hotel. And you remember thinking that Lucifer looked nothing like you had pictured. Of course he was beautiful, that wasn’t shocking, but he was so…unimposing. Not only that, but he was also kind, albeit a bit dorky as well. Not that it was off putting to you, it was endearing if anything!

Although, you hadn’t spoken to him all that much since the time you’d moved in. Lucifer seemed so nonchalant and relaxed with everyone else in the hotel, save for Alastor, who you noticed always managed to get under the fallen angel’s skin one way or another. Even you knew the radio demon was playing with fire; probably wasn’t the smartest idea to piss off the most powerful being in Hell. Regardless, how he acted around you was a little odd to say the least. It seemed like Lucifer was always trying to avoid you for some unknown reason. Did he not like you?

When you had first spoken to him all those months ago, you could tell he was tense. He rambled, a lot. And he somehow managed to fumble every other word that left his mouth. He quickly left after your initial meeting, and ever since then it had been nearly impossible to get in more than five words at a time. He had an impossibly perfect disappearing act, what with his portaging abilities. One time you greeted him from across the lobby and his only response was “O-Oh! H-Hey you! Uhh, I just, umm…welp, gotta run!” and took off before you could even say goodbye. Truly bizarre.

You eventually went to Charlie, telling her that her dad was seemingly very distant towards you. “Oh, don’t worry about that!” Charlie explained. “He’s a pretty busy guy, so he’s usually popping in and out of here pretty frequently. And he’s told me on multiple occasions that he’s glad you joined the hotel! He can come off as a bit scatterbrained, but rest assured he’s more than happy to have you here! And so am I!”

You smiled and thanked her. From the few months that you’ve known her, Charlie was never one to lie, so you decided to take her words at face value. For now, at least. For some reason, you still couldn’t shake the feeling that something was up with Lucifer. You needed to find out.

A few nights had passed and you found yourself wandering through the lobby. The black nightgown you typically wore to bed didn't provide nearly enough heat, but you didn't want to change back into your normal day clothes either. So, you threw on your favorite pink robe before you left your room, it was more than enough to keep you comfortable. It was late, way later than you should have been awake. Even Husk was asleep, the bar sat devoid of any life. It was difficult to sleep most nights, you were still grappling with the fact that you were, in fact, in Hell. You thought you were a decent person in life. Never religious but you tried your best to while you were alive. But that didn’t seem to matter. Perhaps you should have attended church with your family more often, or donated to more charities, or not cut that one person off at that traffic light. Lying awake in your bed didn’t help these thoughts but getting up and walking around usually helped just a tad.

You glanced over to the fireplace, noticing the flames dancing against the walls. That was strange, considering no one ever used the fireplace, or at least not that you’ve seen. But then you noticed one of the large chairs in front of it wasn’t empty. A white sleeve laid across the arm rest. You walked over out of pure curiosity, just to see who was awake at this ungodly hour like you. You craned your neck to see Lucifer sitting there frozen, his head down and eyes closed with his free hand pinching the bridge of his nose. He looked troubled. Before you could speak up, you heard him mumble under his breath.

“What the hell am I going to do…”

Worried, you outstretched your hand, but stopped short of touching his arm. “Sir?”

Lucifer’s eyes shot open instantly, turning his head to see you towering over him. He leapt from his chair completely startled and began stumbling backwards towards the fire pit.

“Watch out!” you warned, gripping his hand, and pulling him towards you. Lucifer held his breath, trying to process what had just happened. His head ended up flush against your chest, your face now feeling as hot as the flames in the pit. You let go of his hand and stepped away from him as fast as you could. Lucifer remained motionless. “I-I’m so sorry, your majesty! I didn’t mean for you to…I’m sorry!”

You finally heard Lucifer exhale. He stood up straight and fixed his wrinkled jacket, making every effort to not look you in the eyes.

“It’s alright, m-my dear,” he spoke softly, “no harm done. A-And please, call me Lucifer.”

“Okay. Lucifer,” you started, “I didn’t mean to startle you. I saw you over here and I heard what you said and…is everything alright?”

Lucifer was tense again. You noticed him clench his fists. “How much did you hear?”

“Not much,” you admitted. “you just sounded worried about something.”

The king let out a sigh, letting his hands relax. “Thank you for your concern, I-I appreciate it. It’s nothing…nothing that you need to trouble yourself with. It’ll be fine.” Lucifer waved his hand, a portal now swirling open behind him, leading to his bedroom. “I think we should both get some sleep now. And t-thank you for catching me. Although, fire can’t harm me…b-but I appreciate the rescue nonetheless!” He was about to step through the portal when you caught his hand once more.

“Wait,” you said quietly. Lucifer looked down at the ground, still refusing to meet your gaze. You frowned. “Sir-I mean Lucifer…I wanted to ask you something. I need to know.” You felt his hand squeeze yours; he was tense again. “I-I’ve been feeling like I’m not welcome here by you.” Lucifer finally lifted his head, his eyes almost piercing your soul. He looked distraught at your words. You never noticed how beautiful his eyes truly were, the soft yellow complimented his pure white skin nicely. You blushed slightly but shook your head and tried to remember what you were saying. “I-I just mean, you seem to avoid me every time I’m near. If I’ve done something to upset you, I’m very sorry. And if you’d rather I’d not stay here, then…”

“NO!” he shouted, now gripping your hand with both of his. “I-I mean, no. You haven’t done anything wrong! Please…Please don’t leave. I should be the one apologizing if that’s truly how you’ve been feeling. I never want you to feel unwelcome here, especially not from me. It…It’s just that…I…” Before he could finish his explanation, his eyes dropped for just a split second before returning to yours. His gaze had somehow shifted into a more panicked expression. He let go of your hands immediately and stepped through his portal in a hurry. “I-I have to go, I’m sorry!” You couldn’t get another word out before his portal disappeared from view.

You stood alone in the parlor, alone and confused. The fire had died out, and you felt a shiver down your spine at the realization of how cold it had gotten without it. But you couldn’t let the conversation end there. You needed to know what was going on with him. You wouldn’t sleep until you did. Luckily, Lucifer’s room at the hotel was very easy to find.

You made your way up to his tower, replaying the scene in the lobby over and over in your head. Things were going well, weren’t they? He seemed so apologetic when you told him how you felt. And then he just…disappeared like he always does. You really didn’t mean to push the issue, but maybe you came on a little strong. Plus, your rescue of him was a little more than awkward. Not that you minded the closeness, even if it was fleeting. The picture of his head resting against your chest flashed in your mind repeatedly. You could feel the heat rise to your cheeks once more now that you were now mere steps from Lucifer’s door.

Focus, you mentally scolded yourself, can’t think about that. It was an accident! It won’t happen again so just…focus. No wonder he ran!

You stood in front of his door now, your knees somehow weaker than they were a moment ago. Those mental images really didn’t help at all. With a deep inhale, you went to knock, but you stopped short when you heard something from beyond the door. You heard your name.

What?, you thought, How…How did he know I was here? Lucifer didn’t sound angry fortunately, but the inflection in his voice made him sound almost sad. And…breathless? You cracked open the door slowly, a little embarrassed at being caught. You went to open your mouth to apologize for the intrusion, but not even a whisper left your lips. Because what you saw in that room left you completely and utterly frozen where you stood.

Lucifer, the great ruler of Hell, was propped up against the obscene amount of pillows on his bed with his pants pooled at his ankles, his very much erect dick in his hand. His eyes were shut, he hadn’t seen you catch him in this extremely vulnerable state.

Run, run, run, RUN! your mind screamed. Everything in your brain was telling you to shut that door and get out of there as fast as you could. But your body refused to react, you remained motionless. You were completely entranced by the scene before you. You watched as Lucifer stroked his cock, mumbling a number of curse words with your name leaving his lips like a prayer.

“Hnng, G-God damn it-ffffuuuccckk….” Lucifer mumbled, his hand gradually picking up the pace as he stroked his shaft.

You tried to wrap your head around what you were seeing, but you were coming up blank. You couldn't believe this. He’s…He’s touching himself…to me?!? How is this…? Why would he…? Your brain was a jumbled mess at this point. It was really beyond your comprehension. You felt tension pool in your stomach at the sight of him becoming undone at the mere thought of you. The sinful sounds he was making went straight between your thighs, to the point where it became uncomfortable that you weren’t giving yourself any attention. The tiniest bit of you wanted to push open that door and give him what he really desired. But before you even begin to think about acting on your carnal instincts, you watched Lucifer's hips bucked up as he came all over his hand. It took every fiber of your being to hold in a whimper that threatened to escape your throat.

Lucifer’s breathing was labored, you watched him toss his arm over his eyes and throw his head back on the pillows. "What the hell is wrong with me?!" you heard him ask. "Why am I doing this?! It’s been months now and I’ve barely had a normal conversation with her! And of course, the only time I’ve really talked to her was after my damn head was forced against her…her…s-shit.” He waved his hand, a tissue appearing between his fingers. You watched as he cleaned himself up, thankful that he still hadn’t looked towards his door. Lucifer kicked himself out of his pant and swung his legs over the side of the bed, his head hanging low. “And what an absolutely fantastic exit I made! “Sorry, gotta go! My dick is hard as a rock right now because of you!” Great job, Lucifer! No wonder she thinks I don’t want her here!” He sighed heavily. “I can’t do this anymore. This isn’t right. I need to stop being a coward and just tell her how she makes me feel…”

A small gasp escaped your lips.

Fuck.

Lucifer's head shot up immediately, his panicked eyes fixating on the door. You didn't even close it behind you as you took off sprinting down the hall, praying to anyone who could hear you that he didn't see you. You didn’t stop running until you made it back to your room, slamming the door behind you. Your knees gave out from under you as you dropped to the floor. In that second, it all clicked for you. Why Lucifer avoided you at every turn, why he tripped over his words when he spoke to you, and why he practically begged you not to leave the hotel.

Lucifer liked you. Lucifer really liked you. That thought alone could have made you scream if you weren’t trying desperately to hold yourself together. And it’s not like you didn’t have passing thoughts about him. He was gorgeous after all. But not only that, you saw how he acted with the others at the hotel. He was sweet, and silly, and fun, even though you never got to experience it firsthand. Now you knew where Charlie had gotten it from.

But of course, those thoughts never stayed. He didn’t like you, right? So instead of wallowing in what could never be, you thought it best not to dwell. But now…now those thoughts were coming back in full force. The aching between your legs only grew as the very fresh images of Lucifer naked and moaning in his bed flooded your mind.

There was a knock at the door.

“H-Hey,” you heard Lucifer’s voice on the other side, “it’s me. Can we talk?”

You didn’t dare move. You hid your head in your lap, pleading silently that he would give up and go away.

You heard him sigh. “I can see your shadow, you know.”

God damn it…

Slowly you rose from the floor, your trembling hand latching onto the doorknob. But your brain wouldn’t let you turn it no matter how hard you tried. How could you possibly face him after what you saw?

“Please?…”

The way he sounded so desperate; it was impossible not to give in. With a heavy sigh, the doorknob turned and you cracked open the door just enough to see Lucifer standing just outside, his glassy eyes looking into yours. You looked away immediately.

“Hi…” you whispered staring down at the ground.

He lowered himself in an attempt to get you to look at him again. “Can I come in?”

You nodded, opening the door inch by inch until he was able to step inside. You shut the door behind him, folding your arms over your body. You still hadn’t looked at him. The silence between you two was deafening, but you knew he wasn’t going to leave until you talked.

“I’m so sorry!” you both shouted simultaneously. “Wait, what?”

"Hold on now!" Lucifer interjected, "You have nothing to apologize for!"

"Of course I do!" you retorted. "I invaded your privacy when I watched...uhh, n-never mind." When you glanced in his direction, his entire face almost matched the pink circles on his cheeks. You couldn't bring yourself to look at him any longer. "I-It was an accident! I came up to apologize for scaring you off again. But...I heard you call my name a-and I just assumed you already knew I was outside, so I opened the door and...I'm so sorry, I should have knocked, and I should have left immediately…I-"

You didn't notice Lucifer make his way towards you, throwing his hands onto your shoulders and snapping you out of your spiral. "Hey, no more of that," he soothed. "I'm not angry, and I didn't come here to scold you. This is all on me."

You felt tears begin to well up in your eyes. "B-But..."

"My dear, this is my fault, not yours," Lucifer cut you off, bringing his thumb up to cheek to wipe a tear that had fallen. He realized how close he'd gotten to you in his attempt to calm you down. Flustered, he stepped back, folding his arms over his chest. You already missed the closeness. "If you'd let me, I'd like to apologize and, you know, at least attempt to explain myself. Not that what happened was excusable. But if you'd rather I leave now, I'd more than understand. And I don't expect your forgiveness. I...just thought it best to apologize to you directly instead of continuing to avoid you and pretending like nothing happened. I'm deeply and truly sorry for everything."

You felt the sincerity in his words, and you saw the pain in his face thinking he had hurt you. You couldn't let him leave. Not yet.

"Stay...please..." you managed to respond. You made your way over to your bed and gestured for him to follow. You sat down crossed legged near the edge of the bed, Lucifer mirroring your actions. You took a deep breath before speaking once more. "I'm not angry with you either, you know."

A strange mixture shock and confusion flashed across Lucifer's face. "Y-You're not?"

You smiled wearily. "No, I promise. I mean, I'm a little taken aback..." Lucifer winced. "...but not in a bad way! If anything, I feel...flattered, you know?" Your face burned at your own candor. A quick glance at him showed he felt the same heat in his own cheeks.

"R-Regardless," Lucifer cleared his throat, "it was still wrong of me. I could try to give excuses about...my ex-wife being gone for more than 7 years now, or tell you that watching you from afar just sparked something in me that I hadn't felt in God know how long, or..."

"You've been watching me?" you teased, flashing him a small grin.

"Shhhhit, well, I uhh...only sometimes!" Lucifer tried to reason. "A-And not for very long! I just, umm, I just noticed how kind you are with everyone you come into contact with, and you're extremely helpful when it comes to the hotel! And your smile...I MEAN, uhh, C-Charlie absolutely adores you with the way she goes on and on about your progress! We both wonder how you even ended up down here in the first place. And well, you...you're," he gulped, "you're the most beautiful creature I've ever laid my eyes on..."

You sat there frozen, your body trembling slightly. Your mind raced a million miles a minute. You tried to get your mouth so form any sort of words, but nothing. Lucifer started to panic.

"I-I'm sorry! That was really forward of me! I shouldn't have-I uhh...God, this is the worst fucking apology imaginable!" Lucifer brought his hands to his face, covering his eyes and lowering his head. "Maybe it would be best if I just g-MMPH!"

You don't know what came over you, but somehow your lips crashed into Lucifer's. His hands flew from his face, now gripping the bed sheets beneath him. He sat perfectly still, but only for a moment. He couldn't help but give into you, letting his eyelids flutter closed and melting under the kiss. You pulled away after only a few seconds, Lucifer leaning his head forward slightly, still needing more. His crimson irises had grown into saucers, his face hot as the sun. Having the literal King of Hell flustered beyond belief from a single kiss was a sight you absolutely wanted to see more of.

"If you think I'm beautiful, then you are someone who is beyond beauty, your majesty," you cooed. You weren't completely sure where this sudden burst of boldness had sprung from, but you liked it. And from what you were witnessing, all signs pointed to Lucifer being completely enamored with it as well.

You went back to your seated position, but now Lucifer was on all fours, crawling ever so slowly towards you. "P-Please..." he begged, "I-I need more..." His face was now mere inches away. He rested his forehead on yours, waiting for your lips to touch his again. The faint smell of apples that hugged his skin was intoxicating.

"You want me to kiss you again?" you asked playfully. "Then you need to tell me something, darling."

Lucifer's breathing had picked up at the sound the pet name you'd given him, his eyes screwed shut. "A-Anything!"

"Tell me then," you said as you began to stroke his soft blond hair, "what were you thinking about when you were touching yourself to me?"

Lucifer whimpered against you. "Anything but that! Please! I-I can't..."

You pulled your forehead away from his, still patting his hair. "I think it's a little too late to be shy now, my king."

A low moan escaped Lucifer's throat as he inched towards you once again. "I...I was thinking...about how wonderful you would taste on my tongue...." He pressed a kiss to your forehead. "I was thinking about how...how pretty your lips would look around my cock." A kiss to your left cheek. "I was thinking about watching you...fuck...watching you ride my cock until I have nothing left in me." A kiss to your right cheek. "But mostly...I was thinking about how badly I want you to be mine..."

Your lips met once more, and with even more vigor than before. His devilish tongue swiped against your bottom lip, begging to delve in further. When your lips parted, your tongues had clashed with such voracity that it had knocked you down onto you bed, Lucifer now completely overtaking you. His hand found the back of your head and pulled you closer into the kiss which you didn't even think possible. With his body completely flat on top of you and even through your robe, it didn't take long for you to notice a certain bulge pressing against your stomach. You chuckled lightly, causing Lucifer to pull away, knowing exactly what you had felt.

"Ha...sorry...my uhh, my body has a mind of its own," he laughed nervously. "If this is too much for you, w-we can slow down. Or just stop completely! It's...It's been a while for me a-and I don't want you to be uncomfortable..."

You placed your hand on his shoulder and gently guided him off of you, putting him on his knees. In an instant, you tossed your robe to the side, revealing your cute black nightgown that left very little to the imagination. Lucifer sucked in a breath as he frantically started shedding his own clothes as well, removing his jacket and dress shirt in a manner that really emphasized his desperation for you. You couldn't help but stare at his bare chest and how it almost glistened in the faint lighting of your room.

"Do you think you're the only one who's body is reacting to this?" You shoved him down gently onto his back, his head now resting against your pillows. "But instead of just telling you, why don't you see for yourself?" You crawled up his body, dragging yourself against home until you straddled his chest.

"Oh, fuck me..." Lucifer almost inaudibly. He snaked his hands up the skirt of your nightgown until his hands reached them hem of your panties. He looked up at you expectantly, and with a final nod from you, you felt him tug your underwear down your legs. He pulled them down slowly, lifting one leg out first and kicking them off with the other. You gazed at him seductively, your glistening entrance now mere inches away from waiting lips. Lucifer's hands grazed up your thighs before stopping just before where you needed him most. Lucifer's breath hitched.

"It's alright," you reassured him. "Touch me. Please, Lucifer..."

"Ahh, wait!" Lucifer stopped his movements entirely. With a quick snap of his fingers, you heard your door lock itself. "We don't want another incident now, do we?"

You couldn't help but roll your eyes at his theatrics, but it made you giggle, nonetheless. "If I didn't know any better, I'd say you're stalling!"

Lucifer laughed. "My sweet angel, if you've learned anything about me in last few minutes, it's that I couldn't wait another second longer for you even if I tried."

With those words, you felt his fingers finally find their way to your folds. It was like an electric shock had coursed through your entire body when he touched you. He'd barely begun and you were already soaking wet. His thumb found your clit instantly as he began to rub small circles around it, sending wave after wave of pleasure. You lifted your hips slightly so his figures could push their way inside of you. Words couldn't begin to describe how good he felt. He told you himself that it had been some time since he'd been with anyone, but there was no indication of this being the case as his two digits pumped in and out of you at a steady pace. He knew exactly what he was doing. You whimpered when you felt him pull his fingers out of you, only to watch him dip them into his mouth, cleaning off your slick entirely. "God, you're more delectable than I could have ever imagined! Please, let me taste you, all of you..."You blushed hard and nodded. You scooted yourself up further, hovering directly over his lips. "Still too far..." you heard him say before his hands latched onto your hips and forced you down so you were seated firmly on his face.

"L-Lucifer!" you cried weakly, trying to pull yourself up. You knew it was futile though. Damn him and his angelic strength.

"You won't hurt me, darling, I promise," he said with a wink. "Besides, breathing is overrated..." You felt his forked tongue immediately dart in and out of your drenched pussy. Your broken moans filled the room as he ate you out like it was his last meal. Lucifer switched between tongue fucking you and sucking on your sensitive nub at a relentless pace. That coil in your stomach was tightening with each movement he made.

"Lu-Luci-fer, o-oh my God, f-fuck, I-I can't." You tripped over every other word that left your lips. Your body started to tremble and your thighs shook violently as you felt your impending orgasm. "I-I'm gonna c-cum, gonna cum, oh SSHHHIIIIITTT-FUCKFUCKFUCK C-CUMMING!" You cried out helplessly as you felt your walls clench around nothing, your juices spilling out onto Lucifer's more than eager tongue. He rode you through your orgasm, lapping you up and not wanting to waste a single drop. You felt him release his hold on your hips so you could at last move back down to his chest. You stared at him wide eyed as he looked back at you with the biggest smile you've ever seen. You felt the heat rise up your neck and cheeks as you watched him lick up the rest of your release that hung on his chin.

"W-Wow, that was...fuck, that was amazing," Lucifer sighed. "Are you alright?"

"I-I'm fine," you breathed, "more than fine. You...really know how to use that tongue of yours." Lucifer flashed you a toothy grin like he had just told you the worst joke imaginable. You wanted to hide your face but damn it, he was too adorable when he looked at you like that!

"Well, you got your first wish. Allow me to grant your next one..." You shimmied down his body until your face lingered above the very obvious strain in his pants. "Let's make you more comfortable shall we?" You unhooked his belt in mere seconds, his pants following soon behind, leaving him in nothing but his briefs that already had a large wet spot in the front.

Lucifer managed to prop himself up on his forearms, his blush spreading to his entire face. "Sweetheart, y-you don't have to do that, I'm fiii-iiiiii-oooh fffffuck..." Lucifer's protest were cut short when you had brought your hand up to palm his very apparent erection through his shorts.

"Now that's hardly fair, Luci," you scolded him, "I think I deserve my fill too, don't you?" Before Lucifer could choke out an answer, you hooked your fingers along his waistband and pulled his briefs all the way down his legs, freeing his painfully hard cock at last. You stopped for a moment to marvel at his length, having to stop yourself from drooling. "O-oh wow, that's umm...that's big..."

Lucifer chuckled nervously above you. "Y-Yeah, sorry about that. I think? Like I said, y-you don't have to-GAAHHH!" Without warning, you delicately gripped Lucifer's shaft, stroking it lethargically. Even though you were moving as slow as possible, the king was already a moaning mess. "S-Shit, you-fuck...feels so good..."

"Is this what you imagined, your highness?" you cooed, now rubbing your cheek against his cock in tandem with your hand. "I wanted to help you out earlier, you know that? When I saw you stroking yourself, I almost pushed opened that door so I could give you what you really wanted. But hey, better late than never!" You chuckled lightly as you licked up his shaft to the very sensitive head of his cock. The taste of his precum was addicting, you craved more. Lucifer writhed under your touch as his whimpers became music to your ears. You circled your tongue around the tip, earning a guttural moan from the man beneath you. You glanced up and noticed Lucifer's eyes were squeezed tight, with his claws digging into your sheets.

"Look at me," you ordered him while you continued to pump his cock. His chest rose and fell faster and faster as he forced his eyes open. "Good boy. I want you to keep your eyes on me." You smiled at him wickedly as you parted your lips and sunk down on his shaft.

"A-AHHH, OOOH FUCK!," Lucifer yelped as he fought against throwing his head back in pure bliss. Your warm mouth enveloped him, the taste of him was nothing short of divine. Your head continue you bob up and down, taking as much of him as you could. Lucifer was a blabbering mess, only able to make incoherent noises. His ability to think had all but disappeared. All he could focus on was the immense pleasure your sinful tongue was providing. His breaths became shallow as your mouth lingered on his cock, refusing to move.

"I-I ca-FUCK...H-HOLY SHIT," Lucifer nearly screamed, his hips now bucking up uncontrollably, forcing you to take more and more of him. "CU-CUMMING, CUMMING...MMPH OHFUCKME!" With one final thrust, you felt his cock twitch, his hot seed filling your mouth. You sucked him off through his orgasm, taking in and swallowing every bit of cum he had. Once he'd finished, you finally let go with a small *pop*. You made your way up his body once more and hovered over his face with a giant grin. You opened your mouth to show him some cum you still had on your tongue before swallowing it down gleefully.

Lucifer's hands flew to his face immediately upon watching you. "I can't believe you just did that! How am I ever going to recover?!"

You laughed as you pulled his hands away from his face, leaning down to kiss him tenderly. He happily returned your kiss, his thumbs rubbing circles on your hips under your nightgown. Lucifer leaned his head back on the pillows and tugged at the hem. "May I?"

"Of course," you nodded. He helped raise your nightgown, lifting it up and easily tossing it over your head and onto the floor. You sat up straight, straddling his stomach and giving him a very nice view of your breasts. "I know you've already felt them once tonight, but I'll let you touch them again if you ask nicely."

"Oh, ha ha," Lucifer mocked playfully, "very funny. That was technically your fault! I didn't just lay on your chest for fun, you forced me there when you pulled me away from the fire!"

You smirked and took ahold of his wrists. "Do you want to touch my tits or not?"

"...Yes, please..."

Smiling, you brought his hands to your breasts. A soft hum emitted from both of you as Lucifer began to knead at your soft mounds, his thumbs running over your sensitive nipples. Suddenly, he started to roll them between his thumb and index fingers, causing you to squeak in surprise. He sat up quickly, pushing you back so that you were now kneeling on the bed and hovering over his thighs. He took one nipple into his mouth as he continued his ministrations on the other. You moaned at the sensation, taking your hand and holding the back of his head for support. He switched sides, making sure your other nipple got the same amount of attention. The feeling of his teeth grazing you nipple sent shivers down your spine.

"Luci," you whispered into his ear. "you had one more fantasy you told me about, did you not?" Lucifer pulled away from your breasts, his eyes wide and full of anxiety. You could feel his heartbeat racing as he buried his face in the crook of your neck.

"O-Only if you want to," his muffled voice reverberated off your skin.

"Yes, I do." You pushed Lucifer back down gently, noticing his cock was already hard again even without any further stimulation. "My, my, eager are we?"

"Very much so, yes," Lucifer whined.

"You're adorable, you know that?" you praised. Lucifer blushed hard and tried to cover his face once more before you pinned his hands above his head. "Don't you dare hide that pretty face from me, sweetheart. I want to see every single little cute expression you make once you're inside me." A small whimper left his mouth as you released your grip on his hands. You shifted yourself in order to line up your entrance with the tip of his cock, slowly rubbing it between your slick folds. "Are you ready?"

Lucifer gasped and threw his head back in response. "Y-Yes, please...need you...need to feel you..."

You began to sink down on his length, feeling him stretch you out beyond what you ever felt before. A beautiful mix of pain and pleasure coursed through you as you finally bottomed out on his cock, both of your moans echoing off the walls. Tears pricked your eyes as he filled you completely, as if you felt whole, now connected as one. You shifted your hips ever so slightly, but it was enough for Lucifer sit himself upwards and wrap his arms around you in a tight embrace.

"You really f-feel like heaven," Lucifer breathed. "P-Please...please say you'll be mine..."

A single tear drifted down your face, and your heart was threatening to burst out of your chest at any moment. You eagerly returned his embrace, wrapping your arms around him and bringing him as close to you as you possibly could. “I’m yours, Lucifer.” You cupped his face in your hands and brough your lips to his, sealing your promise. Feeling him twitch inside of you, you lifted your body off of him and gently sank back down. You swallowed Lucifer's moans as you continued your pace, bucking your hips and taking all of him with each sharp thrust. Lucifer's hands flew to your hips as he helped you up and down his aching cock.

"F-Fuck, y-you're killing me here, darling, I-HNNG...I'm close..." Lucifer sobbed was your pace became relentless. His hips were now rutting into you as he slammed you down onto him. Your eyes had crossed and drool began to pour down the side of your lips. You were absolutely and unashamedly cock drunk. The tightening in your stomach became almost unbearable, your release was fast approaching and so was his. "FFFFUUUUCCKK, g-gonna cum, g-gonna-ACK, c-can I?..."

"Inside L-Luci," you pleaded, "inside...fill me n-now-GAH F-FUCK, C-CUMMING!" Your walls clenched around his thick cock, pulsating relentlessly as Lucifer continued to pound into you making your vision blur. Your cries mixed with his as you felt him empty inside of you. The grip you had on him loosened as his wings suddenly sprouted out from behind him, catching you by surprise. Lucifer didn't seem to notice, too overtaken by his orgasm. He bit down on your shoulder harshly to keep himself from screaming while his hot seed continued to pour into you. Your muscles finally relaxed as you both came down from your highs. Lucifer's tongue lapped at the mark he had left on you, soothing the sore spot. But now that he'd given you your first mark, all you wanted to do was beg for more.

"S-Sorry about that," he smiled sheepishly. "I didn't mean to bite you so hard." He turned his head, finally noticing his ruffled wings. "O-Oh! Well...that's new."

You chuckled. "Your wings are beautiful, Lucifer." You ran your fingers over a few of his scarlet feathers; they were the softest things you've ever felt. His wing folded towards your touch, now almost fully engulfing the two of you. "Wait, are you apologizing for marking me? I'm yours, am I not? Now I have proof!"

Lucifer buried his face in your chest. "L-Love, you can't say things like that! You're gonna drive me insane!"

"Love?" you repeated.

He shot his head up in a panic. "I-uhh...is that okay?"

You kissed his lips tenderly. "It's more than okay, love."

You watched his wings puff up at your words, his smile wider than you've ever seen before. You then carefully pulled yourself from his lap and laid down ever so gently on his one set of wings while the other set wrapped around your body. Lucifer wrapped his arms around you once again, now feeling a double layer of protection and comfort.

"Thank you," he murmured against your ear.

"No, thank you," you whispered back. "It was wonderful, truly. And at least now I can stop worrying about whether or not you hate me!"

You heard a small hum leave Lucifer's lips. "That couldn't be further from the truth, my dearest." A placed a small peck to your forehead. "Do you...mind if I stay here tonight?"

You shook your head. "I wouldn't let you leave even if you wanted to," you teased. "You're mine now too." Fatigue flooded your body as you yawned and felt your eyelids fall. You snuggled your head against Lucifer's chest before unconsciousness had taken over.

"Forever," was the last thing you heard before drifting off to sleep in Lucifer's arms.

~~~

WHY THIS ENDED UP BEING SO LONG IS BEYOND ME, HOPE YOU LIKE IT ANYWAYS!

Taglist: @ask-theradio-demon @kermitdafroggy @thonethatflies620 @luc1fersducky @a-okay-rj @bat-boness @myhornybrainonlyknowsthis @misfitgirlwrites @animationmovieshipps @orbitinglumps @ramenkitten @blaackbiird @bigfatbimbo @lucisaspen @bvnnyangel @seulace9 @fluffypinkpillows @starlightdreaming @k-n0-x @rosen-und-mondlicht @raindropsfromheaven @slutforlucifermorningstar @lola576 @ag-cookiebat800 @victoriousvic @rand0m-1diot @lonelynmisunderstood @cosmic-lavender @yourmom132 @liveontelevision @luci-lover-forever @lolalovesmorningstar @moonlight-readings @mel-windle @la-undercover-latina @yve-barr @certified-cry-babyyy

[serverusslaype]

The Yule Ball, pt. 1

Severus Snape x professor!reader

omg wow two posts in one day? who am i?

i also wanted to post this because i asked about it a while ago lmao, but i'm going to split it into two parts and finish the end of the second part tomorrow after work, it's mostly done, i just need to tidy it up hehe. this isn't very long, however, in part two, it gets good of course. pls don't hate me :( </3

i hope you are all doing well!! :)

warnings: slight harassment? ew, karkaroff

The atmosphere in the Great Hall was sparkling and lively as loud laughter and chatter filled the wintry and festively decorated room. Several large round tables were dotted around the sides of it, laden with beautiful white centrepieces and matching silver cutlery and glittering glassware. Long, blue-grey curtains adorned with artifical snow hung from the walls between the majestic and mythical stone statues, as if imitating frozen waterfalls. A warm and fuzzy feeling settled in your body as you glanced around the gorgeously decorated Hall, a small smile finding your cherry-red painted lips. 

You sat alone at a table in a silky, backless, long-sleeved dress with only a goblet of wine for company as you watched students and teachers alike dance joyously on the floor to a melodious tune. You had to bite back an amused grin as your eyes caught sight of Hagrid's hand slipping down to Madame Maxine's rear. She quickly swatted it away, and you couldn't help but chuckle quietly to yourself. Ever since the international schools arrived at Hogwarts, Hagrid seemed to be smitten with the enormous witch, and you could see why. Madame Maxine was stunning and classy; always dressed in the finest attire you could ever imagine - and of course, always carried herself with elegance. You envied her slightly as you watched the pair sway sweetly together.

Speaking of the international schools, a certain Headmaster had taken a liking to you during their stay and Hogwarts, and it didn't please you at all. In fact, it made you rather uncomfortable. Well, he made you uncomfortable. You shivered slightly at the thought of Igor Karkaroff and lifted your goblet of wine to your lips, downing the rest of it carelessly. You'd been avoiding him all night, and you hoped you wouldn't have to speak to him for the rest of it. 

As you placed the goblet back down, you glanced around, catching sight of Minerva stood to the right of Dumbledore and Snape who were currently observing the dancing students. Though you were looking at the older witch, your eyes were magnetically pulled to the wizard dressed in all black - surprisingly without his signature cloak.

Professor Snape.

You'd spoken to him a few times, but not many - he wasn't the most welcoming man you'd met. In fact, he was rather cold and short with you, which wasn't too unsurprising since he'd taught you back in the day when you attended Hogwarts as a student. So, you knew exactly what he was like. In those days, despite his harsh and cruel attitude towards you and your classmates, you developed a silly little crush on him. You weren't exactly sure why - perhaps it was the mysterious aura that he possessed, or his deep, sultry and silky voice he spoke with, or maybe it was just the plain simple fact that he was... attractive to you. Gods, your classmates would have disowned you, had you admitted such a thing.

Regardless of your history here, being the youngest professor here was a little intimidating to say the least, and the need to prove yourself was overwhelming. At times, you felt as if you didn't deserve your post as the professor of Astronomy - how could a twenty-something-year-old be qualified enough to teach students less than ten years their junior? Doubting yourself was bound to happen, especially in the presence of such talented, wise wizards like Dumbledore, Flitwick and McGonagall - Flitwick was a duelling champion, for goodness sake. And what were you? Merely infatuated with the nightsky and everything that possibly dwells beyond it? Merlin.

A deflated sigh swiftly fell from your lips as you quickly stood up from your seat, beginning to reluctantly head over in the direction of your fellow colleagues. It's not like you didn't want to stand with them, you just felt awfully out of place, and you didn't want to look weird by sitting all by your lonesome all night. Being the new person at the new job was never fun.

As you neared them, your eyes were drawn to the gloomy Potions Master again. As if he could sense someone watching him, his deep black eyes flicked to you, and you quickly glanced away with burning cheeks, walking forwards to stop beside Minerva. Maybe your crush never went away, and you winced slightly at the thought.

Turning to Minerva, she looked at you with happy eyes, a smile gracing her lips. "Y/N," Minerva beamed, her shoulders relaxing in a cheerful manner, "we'd wondered where you'd disappeared off to."

You hummed happily at her words, your stiff body relaxing slightly. McGonagall had been your favourite professor when you'd studied at Hogwarts, even though you didn't exactly excel in her class of Transfiguration. She never berated you for your lack of skill in the subject and that was probably what solidified your preference.

You looked at the witch beside you, though a silhouette of a prominent nose and a mop of black hair clouded your vision. "Just needed a sit down, really." You replied with a soft voice, smiling as you linked your fingers together in front of your waist. "Also, I fancied some more wine, it's rather moreish." Minerva and Dumbledore chuckled at your light-hearted joke, but Snape did not. You swallowed awkwardly.

"Perhaps it isn't wise to be drinking in the presence of students, Professor L/N." Snape drawled in a demeaning tone from beside Dumbledore, side-eyeing you.

"What makes you think I'm going to get drunk?" You frowned, his subtle dig at you twisting your insides. Crush or not, he was getting under your skin.

Snape snorted slightly, "A history of misbehaviour at Hogwarts doesn't bode well." He said, turning his head to face you. You fought the itching urge to roll your eyes at his words, remembering that one time you had pranked his class.

"That was one time, Snape." You sighed, fighting hard not to groan. Apparently, he wasn't going to let this go. "And it was years ago now."

"I wouldn't want to take any chances." He sneered at you, and your stomach twisted horribly. Did he really despise you that much? It hurt to say the least, you thought he would've put that in the past and moved on, but apparently grudges are the next best thing.

"Right." You huffed quietly, and Minerva cast an awkward glance to Dumbledore who also looked rather uncomfortable. Yes, this was a terrible idea coming to stand with your colleagues. A fucking terrible idea. Snape always had to make you look childish. Suddenly, you pathetically wished that Karkaroff would suddenly appear and bother you so you wouldn't have to deal with this awful interaction. Anything would be better than this right now.

As if on cue, someone called your name. "Would you excuse me?" You sighed, casting an apologetic smile towards Dumbledore and McGonagall, purposefully ignoring Snape. Dumbledore also excused himself, leaving only the Heads of Slythering and Gryffindor together.

As you and Dumbledore walked off, Minerva turned to Snape with scornful eyes. "You shouldn't be so harsh on her, Severus," she huffed, "she's not a child anymore. Y/N is an adult, capable of making adult decisions. There's no need for such hostility." 

Snape didn't reply, he only sighed heavily at Minerva's comment, prompting the older witch to roll her eyes at his petty behaviour. Though, underneath his cold and dismissive attitude towards you, there was something else. Something he did not want to unfold, nor understand. It wasn't a familiar feeling, and that was what worried him. And so, each time you spoke to him or looked at him, he had chosen to push that feeling away by being malicious to you. Snape wasn't fond of it, and he did resent himself slightly by acting so horribly towards you. Something inside of him tugged at his heart each time your face fell due to his sharp words, or the way he'd glare at you whenever you looked at him. It was the only thing he knew. Snape wasn't familiar with nor welcoming to feelings other than hatred or disdain.

The Potions Master cast his eyes over the crowds of students, absent-mindedly looking for your small figure. It's not like he wanted to check on you, he just wanted to see who had called for you, out of... curiosity. And there you were, chatting with the Weasley twins. Snape couldn't remember your exact age, but he was sure you were mid-twenties, perhaps early-twenties. Your youthful face and essence said so. As he observed you, his chest burned unusually as you laughed at something the twins had said, and it burned even hotter when he saw them hand you something. What were they doing?

"It's just a little something," Fred grinned goofily in his tuxedo as you held a small, neatly-wrapped box in your hands. It was a pale red, with a shining green bow. You looked up at them and smiled gratefully.

"Yeah, we just wanted to say thanks for being a brilliant teacher," George added after his brother, making you grin amused. The two of them always made you laugh in your classes, it was like they were the same person from how well they bounced off of each other.

"Oh, thank you, boys," you grinned, a little shocked at their kindness, "you didn't need to get me anything." Both Fred and George grinned together, their fluffy ginger hair bouncing a tad as they glanced at each other.

"You're our favourite, you know," George said, and Fred nodded with him, beaming. You chuckled at their silly smiles.

"Yeah, you're a thousand times better than any of the other professors," Fred agreed cheerfully, folding his arms against his chest.

"Especially Snape-" George interjected. Your heart skipped a beat at the sound of his name.

"Yeah, he's a right old miserable git, he is." Fred grumbled, nodding behind you. "He's staring right at us, too." Your stomach dropped the second Fred said those words, and you quickly whipped your head around, your eyes meeting with Snape's own fierce ones. As quickly as you looked at him, you turned back around, your face becoming hot and pink.

"Are you blushing, professor?" George grinned wickedly, glancing at his brother who also shared that same expression.

 "No!" You answered quickly, gasping.

"Don't tell me you like that horrible arse," Fred laughed, his eyebrows shooting upwards.

"I wouldn't have expected you to fancy a Slytherin like him." George frowned, his nose turning up in slight disgust. "I mean, he hates everything and everyone, why would you-"

"I never even said I liked him! You two just assumed so!" You scoffed, folding your arms against your chest. The twins laughed at your reaction, glancing at each other. "Anyway, boys, thank you for the gift, but this conversation is over." Another hefty sigh fell from your lips as you looked between the two of them, smiling politely.

"Professor L/N," A raspy, deep voice came from behind you, and instantly, your blood went cold. You knew that thick accent very well. Fred and George Weasley looked like they were on the verge of busting out laughing. They knew of your dislike for the Durmstrang Headmaster, and you were sure that the majority of the school knew of his weird, little thing for you.

"Headmaster Karkaroff." You turned around hesitantly, fighting back a scream of utter frustration. He looked a little more groomed than usual - his messy, dark brown hair with specks of gray in it was brushed through, and his long goatee had been neatly manipulated into a sharp point. You were also surprised to see him dressed in such expensive looking clothing. The dress coat he sported was a creamy-beige, adorned with a shining black leather belt around his middle, accentuating his lanky figure.

"You look like you need a dance," The corners of his lips turned upwards into a mischievous smirk, and an uncomfortable shiver ran down your spine. "May I help with that?" Karkaroff held out his hand, and your eyes shot down towards it.

"Erm," you stuttered, "well-" You couldn't find the words at all, and it wasn't helping that you could hear the twins behind you snickering to themselves. Before you could even answer, Karkaroff had his hand grasping yours and tugging you to the dancefloor. You stumbled slightly at how fast he had pulled you, and with your other hand, you reached down to grab your skirt to hike it up so you wouldn't trip over.

As the pair of you reached the floor after winding through hoards of dancing students, Karkaroff spun you around a little too quickly, and you ungracefully fell into his chest with a squeak. "Sorry," you mumbled, using a hand to push yourself away from him, "I wasn't really expecting you to do... that."

"You know," Igor chuckled, ignoring your previous comments, "I've been waiting for this moment ever since I arrived here at Hogwarts." He admitted with a wicked smirk, allowing his rough, bony fingers to slide down your bare back, gripping you a little too tightly for your liking.

"...To dance?" You frowned, using your free hand to fidget with his hand that laid flat against your bare back, silently telling him to ease off a little. "Don't be silly." You chuckled awkwardly, casting a glance over to where you had previously stood with the other teachers as you and Karkaroff swayed. Only Snape remained, and your face grew as hot as a firepit as you noticed his eyes were already stuck on you. His face was the usual unhappy, scornful, sour frown.

"Oh, but I am not being silly, little bird." Igor murmured, pushing his face closer to yours. Instinctively, you pulled your head away from his, scrunching your nose up at the awful pet name.

"Little bird?" You repeated, almost choking the words out. You squirmed within his uncomfy grip, casting another glance to Snape, hoping that he'd have just an ounce of human decency to realise that you were asking for help. Surely, he wouldn't be that much of an arsehole to ignore the sign of a colleague in trouble.

"Yes," Igor smiled, making your skin crawl. "You remind me of a little bird - tiny, beautiful..." Your eyes widened at his words, and again, you glanced to where you had seen Snape. Your heart dropped like a rock as you noticed the empty space where he had previously stood. You knew he was a dick, but not so much of a dick to let you get taken hostage by a man you hardly knew - and didn't want to know. "So beautiful... why don't we ditch this party and head back to my quarters? I could show you around." Karkaroff muttered and pulled you even closer, grinning lecherously as he brushed his nose against the crook of your neck. Your breath hitched - but not in a good way.

"Igor..." Your voice was shaky, yet low, indicating that you weren't comfortable at all.

"How about we go somewhere more private?" Karkaroff's hands tightened even more as they slipped down to your hips, pulling your body flush against his. A quiet gasp left your lips as you pressed your palms flat against his chest, attempting to push him off of you. Your eyes flicked to where Snape once stood again, but he was no-where to be seen.

"Something caught your eye, pilentse?" Karkaroff hummed lowly, his eyes narrowing, evidently upset that your attention is busied with something or someone else.

"No." You quickly replied - almost too quickly. "I just need a refreshment, do you mind?" You forced yourself to glance up at Karkaroff's intense, wrinkled eyes.

"Oh, no, that can wait. I've waited almost the whole night for this moment..." Igor grumbled with a sneer as his grip on you became deeper and a little tighter, as if to say you weren't leaving until he deemed it so. That was until you saw that same sneer fall from his face, replaced with what looked like fear. Instantly, your brows furrowed together into a confused frown as you noticed his eyes dart from yours to something behind you, and so you turned around, curious to see why Karkaroff looked like he was about to flee.

"Karkaroff." Snape's deep, almost threatening voice reached your ears, and immediately, your mouth went dry as your heart leaped up into it. So... he did notice you? A rush of relief filled your body and your shoulders relaxed a tad. Snape glanced down at you, his thick mop of black hair framing his pale face. The blue-white light from above highlighted his prominent, handsome features perfectly, and you felt a sense of warmth prickle your skin, pooling in your stomach. You looked away, certain that if you kept staring, he'd assume you were weird or something along those lines.

Igor swallowed thickly, his bony fingers digging into the skin of your back in fear. You winced slightly at the sharp prod, catching Snape's attention. His eyes darted down to where Karkaroff had an iron-grip on you, and his lip twitched into the beginning of a sneer as he looked back to Igor's worried eyes. "Snape," The Durmstrang Headmaster greeted the gloomy Potions Master, clearly a little afraid of him. Apparently everyone was fearful of Snape, except for a select few, you realised. "What can I help you with?" Karkaroff's thick accent had slipped slightly, his voice wavering. You had to stifle a laugh at that - how was a man like Igor Karkaroff afraid of Snape? There was definitely something that you were missing here.

"Professor L/N," Snape ignored Karkaroff and shifted his bored expression to you, though you didn't miss the venomous look that he'd shot at the Bulgarian. You were still in disbelief that Snape had answered your silent cries for help, let alone actually come to save you from Karkaroff's slimy grasp. "I believe we have some important matters to tend to." Snape said matter-of-factly, arching a brow at you expectantly. 

"Wait, what?-" You choked out with wide eyes. You'd been staring a little too hard at Snape, and so you stumbled over your words, unprepared. "Oh, right, yeah- the, erm, the... valerian root." You finished, turning a bright shade of red as Snape's brows furrowed at you in a judgemental fashion, as if to say 'seriously?'.

"Yes," Snape drawled, dragging his disappointed eyes from you to Karkaroff. You huffed quietly, embarrassed. "The valerian root." The Potion Master repeated, shooting you a glare. He held out his hand for you to take, and you reached out to grasp a hold of it, when you were suddenly tugged backwards by Karkaroff. Snape's narrowed eyes darted to the Headmaster's hand wrapped securely around your waist, his nostrils flaring in slight anger. This old, despicable man had no business holding a young witch like you in such a manner.

"That can wait, surely?" Karkaroff said, his voice low as he tucked you closer to his side. You shot a desperate glance to Snape, begging him to help you again. A frustrated breath shot out of his nostrils.

"Tragically, no." Snape quipped sarcastically, his dark eyes piercing a burning hole through Karkaroff. Snape looked furious - his body was rigid. He hadn't moved a muscle apart from his eyes to look at either you or Igor. "Professor?" He glanced to you, stretching his hand to you once more, and you took it happily, allowing him to pull you out of Karkaroff's slimy hands and to his safe side. Your cheeks flushed pink at the closeness between you two, and you kept your eyes on the ground as Snape shifted his hand to sit on the small of your back, guiding you away from Karkaroff.

Part 2! (wip) Masterpost

there is part 1, i hope you enjoyed it, and i hope it was sort of what you expected! i can't remember what i said i was going to do but this is what i came up with hehe. i'm always a sucker for jealousy.

let me know if you liked it/what you thought, i do apologise that it was kinda short, but it'll be finished tomorrow! <3

i hope you're all well! :)

[yuesya]

Seriously, what kind of introduction is that?!

This is Zenin Shiki, my murderous clan head.

Sumire gives Toji a look. Has he finally lost his mind?!

… Except… the thick-headed man clearly doesn’t seem to think there’s anything wrong at all with what he just said. Which only feeds into Sumire’s exasperation with him. Yes, she’d known that Toji’s family situation was rather complicated, but he’d spoken fondly of his young clan head, hadn’t he? So why would he go and say something like this?

“Your kill count is higher than mine,” Zenin Shiki’s voice is cool and measured. Factual, and with no particular inflection in her tone.

Sumire blinks. The young clan head doesn’t… seem to be offended…?

“Yeah, ‘cuz I’m older than you,” Toji responds, with a note of something akin to amusement in his tone. “Oh, I’m planning to take Sumire’s surname, too. She’s not marrying into the Zenin Clan.”

“Okay.”

Sumire’s jaw drops open. The girl just– just like that–?!

“Shiki-sama!” Unlike the white-haired girl who remains completely unmoved, the other man in the room with them sounds appalled. “Even despite his– his… brashness, Zenin Toji is a member of the main family. Something like this is ridiculous, you cannot possibly allow–”

“I can allow what I want.”

“This isn’t proper,” the man insists. “The Zenin Clan would be ruined if all its members marry out like this! And to a woman? You need to reconsider this.”

“I don’t care for keeping sorcerers who don’t want to be here,” Shiki states boredly. “And if none of the Zenin Clan’s members wish to remain with the clan, then it’s better off disbanded anyways.”

“But–!”

“If you have a problem with any of my decisions,” the girl continues, “Then issue an official challenge to replace me.”

The man’s face turns red, then white. Eventually, he lowers his head. “… Surely you jest, Shiki-sama.”

“It’s not a joke. You’re welcome to try if you think you can kill me.” Despite the chilling contents of those words, the girl sounds utterly unconcerned. But is it confidence, or apathy? “… Or if you don’t mind dying, I suppose.”

The man splutters incoherently.

Sumire, on the other hand, can only gape at the young girl. Even though Toji had mentioned a bit of what his young clan head was like to her before, she still finds herself dumbstruck by what’s playing out in front of her eyes.

“See? Told you that you didn’t need to worry about anything,” Toji nudges her gently, then turns towards the white-haired girl again. “You don’t mind that I’m discarding the Zenin name and marrying a civilian, right?”

“Your romantic pursuits are not my concern,” Shiki responds blandly as she returns to her paperwork. There is a brief moment as she writes down a few lines on the paper in front of her, and then sets the document aside. “… Congratulations, Toji.”

“Thanks,” Toji grins. “So, can I expect an expensive wedding gift?”

“Toji, what in the world do you think you’re saying–”

The girl lifts her gaze again, ignoring the other man entirely. “Am I getting a wedding invitation?”

“Well, duh?” Toji gives the girl a look that’s usually only reserved for idiots. “‘Course you are.”

“… Then yes.” Shiki reaches out for a different pen, and starts writing on another document. “I’ll bring a very expensive wedding gift.”

“Nice.”

Sumire looks between her smug-looking cousin, his calm-faced clan head… and the sole person who appears to have many protests, who wears an expression that makes it seem as if he wants to turn around and bash his head against the wall.

… Despite the fact that the other man is clearly against Toji marrying her like this, somehow Sumire can’t help but feel pity for him in this moment.

[bones4thecats]

Hello 👋🏻

Could I request Heracles, Buddha and Hades finding out their s/o is cursed with immortality because she managed to kill several gods as a mortal? In her defense, she was being hunted down by the gods.

What If Their Immortal! S/O Was Cursed?

Type of Writing: Request Name: What If Their Immortal! S/O Was Cursed? Characters: Heracles, Buddha, and Hades Requester: Anonymous

A/N: The God that I used for the story to fit together for my writing is completely fake. He does not exist (that I am aware of) in any kind of mythology or religion.

✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅

✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅

💪 Heracles has heard many stories from his fellow Gods about a 'God-Killing Human' and how dangerous they were that even they had taken down a former high-ranking God by the name of Merikh, who was the God of Death

💪 When you had killed said God, you were brought to the peak of a nearby mountain and offered by the humans as a sacrifice for your crimes against the Gods

💪 Zeus and a few others saw potential in you, so, instead of torturing you in many ways, like how they did Tantalus for trying to feed his son to them, they had gifted you with immortality, though you were not considered a God in their books

💪 You had been alive for a few centuries when Heracles became a God, but when you had first met him, you didn't confirm that you were the Immortal Killer of Gods, instead you said you were an average human with no value to him

💪 Heracles had bonded with you through many years, and the only reason he discovered you were immortal was when Ares had come with him and he had come across you after their training

" Oh! Ares, this is my- " " You know the Immortal Killer of Gods?! Heracles, you know what Dad'll say! " " Wait... you're the- WHAT?! "

💪 Despite trusting many despite their flaws, Heracles was very scared that you had lied to him about loving him and everything else. But, when he had spoken to his uncle Hades about it, he gained the knowledge that instead of immortality being a gift to you, it was more like curse for thinning their divine-numbers

💪 All of his concern about if you were lying had faded away, well, more like moved to the category of are you okay and what could you possibly be going through whenever coming across a divine being such as Heracles?

💪 But his biggest question was; why didn't you hate him?

💪 When you replied with how he had nothing to do with your sentencing and how it was your actions that led you to this, not his and how he didn't need to blame himself, he felt his heart melt and tears pocket in his eyes

💪 Despite living with such an everlasting and probably torturous life, you still do not hate those who punished you, you knew from the centuries you spent alone that this was what you should have expected. Though, Heracles still scolds you if you go into a depressive state of blaming yourself

" Dear, don't blame yourself. All humans makes mistakes! Myself included! Oh no, please don't cry anymore! Wait, no- "

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🍭 As a human-turned-God, Buddha did not really see any issue with being this. In fact, he found it nice to round about and spend the rest of his 'afterlife' relaxing and keeping up with his path of enlightenment, and he loved to help others get on that path as well

🍭 While he was alive, he had heard stories of a human that killed many Gods, including one by the name of Merikh, a Death God who had tried killing many children just because he could

🍭 Buddha could sense something was wrong with you when he first met you on his path to enlightenment, you were just sitting beside a random river while your long white and gold robes flowed in the air, while a thick line of face-paint laid on your eyes from one side to the other

🍭 He just felt that you were far to quiet for your own good. But, since you didn't get up and join his group, Buddha just smiled, waved, and went on his merry way, not expecting to see you ever again

🍭 But, when he had awoke as a God and took a small walk a few hundred years after, he had noticed a familiar form at the edge of the river; you.

🍭 Before your relationship even began, he knew you were a form of divine being. But, he had no idea how you had gained the power of immortality, but as far as he guess, you could have been born with it

🍭 So, when Brunhilde had come to him to ask if she could have you fight in the next round of Ragnarok against a new and dangerous God, he declined, saying he didn't want his delicate immortal S/O to die

🍭 Brunhilde had spilled the beans. Telling your story of killing God after God until you made it to Merikh centuries before Buddha's birth. But, unlike Heracles, Buddha doesn't view you differently, you were his S/O. Plain and simple.

" Brunhilde, I understand why you would want 'em to fight. They're strong, and that's plain to see when they glare at anyone. But, I am not letting them risk their life against some new douche from the Norse Pantheon. They're my S/O to protect and cherish, and I plan on doin' that for a long time, longer than these last few centuries. Do they're not doing it, got it? "

🍭 He also loves to just stand there and flip of Zeus with you, since he had cursed you in the first place and Buddha just didn't like the old geezer

✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅

✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅

💀 Hades had known about you for centuries, as he was one of the Gods who was against torturing you, and instead just giving you a sentence of immortality to satisfy the lives lost of their allies

💀 This guy is very distant, even to most of his own Pantheon, so he always has had rumors floating around that he may be doing something behind everyone's back. Well, technically he was, but still- you get the point!

💀 Whenever Hades would go up to the surface and relax in the rare sunlight he ever gets, he would always try visiting you in your small home located deep within the forest

💀 He had noticed you had gotten used to being an immortal quite quick, and that shocked him. It had taken Heracles a little while to accept the fact that he was immortal himself, but you accepted it within a couple years while his was nearly double your time!

💀 Hades had asked you to be his one and only a few hundred years of knowing one another, and when you said yes, he just smiled and spun you around, thanking his fellow Gods for you being immortal like him

💀 But, Hades didn't understand how this had been affecting you internally...

💀 While you seemed to accept outliving everyone you cared about, on the inside, you were the complete opposite. You had had many panic attacks and nightmares of the Gods you had killed, especially the Death God, Merikh, in which you would wake up in a cold sweat

💀 The only reason that he found out was because of your small friendship with Hermes, who was a well-known gossiper. He had found out about your nightmares getting worse and had confronted his uncle about it, not sparing a detail, much to your annoyance

💀 Hades had come to you directly and, while you were away, had his servants move your things from your home to his. He didn't do this to observe you more- well, he kinda did, I guess- BUT. He mainly did it because you were married and married couples live together!

💀 Yeah right

💀 It only took a couple nights together for your nightmares to calm down, as feeling the lovingly-tight grip your husband had on your midsection made you feel protected and adored instead of hunted and hated for your actions of the past

" Sweet-Skull, you have no need to cry over such an event happening to you. As long as I am here, nobody, and I mean nobody, will ever come close to harming you again. "

[clarisse0o]

Camp Wiegman-Part 58

Lucy Bronze x Ona Batlle

Alternative Universe : Military School

Words: 5k

Masterlist

———————————————————————

Tuesday, February 23rd; 9:00 AM - Manchester

I finish getting ready, adjusting the suit Lucy kindly lent me as I look at myself in the mirror. The beautiful days in the snow feel like a distant memory since our return to the city. We’re back to our responsibilities after a relaxing weekend. I smile when I see Lucy approaching me in the reflection, wrapping her hands around my waist.

- "This outfit looks amazing on you."

I blush at her open compliment. I was just about to ask her how I looked, but I forgot that Lucy no longer hesitates to say what she used to keep to herself. It’s a pleasant change, considering she used to only play the serious, emotionless role.

- "Thank you... But it’s your outfit, remember?"

Not having anything suitable in my suitcase for a professional meeting, Lucy had to lend me some clothes. The only things I’m wearing that are mine are my underwear and black pants. Lucy let me borrow her little black boots, a white shirt, and her suit jacket. Fortunately, we’re the same size. I love borrowing her clothes, and the best part is, she doesn’t mind. In fact, I get the impression that she likes it.

- "Well, if it means seeing you look this stunning every time, I’ll keep lending you my clothes."

I smile shyly before leaning back slightly to find her lips. It’s almost time to leave, and it’s making me increasingly anxious. Waking up wasn’t difficult, surprisingly. I’ve been sleeping like a baby since I’ve been back in Lucy’s arms. I can’t say the same for breakfast, though. I could barely eat anything after my shower. Since we spent the last couple of days lazing around, I had plenty of time to think and prepare for my interview. I worked on it so much that Lucy had to force me to take a break, saying I was overdoing it. The problem is, I have no idea who I’m dealing with or what the outcome will be. For all I know, it could be nothing. I’m afraid of being disappointed. Lucy is very optimistic about it. She seems to expect a lot, which only adds to the pressure. I’m terrified of messing it all up with my usual clumsiness. She tried to reassure me, but it didn’t help much. She then added that I should just be myself and everything would go well. However, I rarely manage to be myself in situations like this. Panic always takes over. I wanted to know what the gallery director looks like, but Lucy told me she’s only spoken to him on the phone, though he sounded very friendly. She thinks he’s young. The fact that she simply believes in me makes my stomach turn. When I noticed she was getting frustrated with my behavior because it was affecting her, I thought back to the amazing week we just had. It was so enlightening and at the same time very soothing. I felt like I found myself again, and for the first time in a long time, I opened up. Not just to Lucy in our relationship, but also to her friends and mine. I can’t even remember the last time I so easily let people into my private circle. It was really a good idea. It even improved Lucy’s relationship with Mapi and Alexia. Thinking about all that gave me the courage I needed for what’s coming in a few hours. I’ve made progress, and there’s reason to believe in myself.

- "Are you ready?"

- "Panicked," I murmured.

- "Everything will be fine," she replies, kissing my cheek. "I’ll be waiting for you."

- "You’re going to see the girls in town, then?" I asked.

She told me she’d be meeting up with Ingrid and Mapi after exchanging messages with Ingrid yesterday. I would have loved to join them, but duty calls elsewhere.

- "Yeah, but don’t worry. Just send me a message when you’re done, and I’ll be there. And, if something positive comes out of this interview, I’ll let you celebrate tonight with no limits."

- "That’s a very dangerous comment, Miss Bronze."

- "And I’ll take responsibility for it," she smiles playfully.

- "I’ll make sure to remind you of that."

- "You’ve proven that you can be responsible, so I can make an effort too."

I smile, thinking back to Saturday night. The girls were really feeling it the next day. We haven’t seen each other since, but we’ve been texting a lot. I’m glad I stayed sober. I’ve earned some trust points with Lucy. It’s crazy how we’re all swimming in an ocean of happiness. I’m very happy, just like my best friend who’s staying with Ingrid, and Alexia with Jenni. I hope things continue this way for a long time. By the way, we’re all meeting at The United tonight. I love that place, so I was immediately up for going. I hope I’ll get a chance to let loose, especially since Lucy is allowing it. In any case, I have no choice but to ace this interview. I’m fully aware that I’m playing for an important career. I take a deep breath as I look at myself one last time.

- "Let’s go. I’ll be late otherwise."

- "You’re perfect, no matter what he says. Don’t forget that."

I return her smile timidly, nodding. I don’t quite believe her words, but they give me courage. She kisses the back of my head one last time before stepping back. I know exactly what that means. It’s really time to go. Without a word, we both leave the bedroom and head to the living room. I feel at home with the ease I feel in this environment. Lucy makes me feel at home, and that’s all I needed. We put on our jackets and shoes from the wardrobe by the front door, then finally step outside. The accumulated stress doesn’t help me stay calm. I need to touch or occupy myself with anything I can as we drive. Noticing this, Lucy eventually places her hand on my thigh.

- "Hey, it’s just an interview, OK?"

- "You don’t understand. This is the chance of a lifetime."

- "If it doesn’t work out, we’ll look elsewhere," she says with determination.

I smile timidly, trying to convince myself of the best outcome. Lucy has always been more optimistic than me. That’s partly why I love her. She’s always been my light in the darkness. The ride feels endless in the silence I’ve caused. Her hand never stops caressing my thigh, though. She’s forced to remove it when we arrive so she can park. I’m relieved to see we’re much earlier than I feared. It must have taken us barely ten minutes. I expected the gallery to be in the heart of downtown and that it would take us longer to get there. I frown, looking around. This neighborhood doesn’t seem like it could host a gallery. It’s just an ordinary street with lots of houses. I glance at Lucy, who’s smiling.

- "Was this a joke?"

I ask hesitantly, dreading the answer. Disappointment already starts to grow within me, along with a hint of annoyance as her grin widens.

- "I’d never play such a bad joke on you."

- "Then where are we?"

- "At an annex of the gallery. This is the address I received for the interview," she says, pointing ahead.

I look straight ahead and see a renovated warehouse with a garage door as an entrance. I bite my lip, not sure what to think. It’s certainly an unusual place. I’m an artist at heart, so I love unusual things, but it’s unsettling for a major gallery to work in a place like this. My confidence only continues to fade. Noticing this, Lucy makes me look at her by grabbing my face between her hands.

- "Take a deep breath, baby."

I do as she asks, inhaling deeply while closing my eyes. It’s amazing the trust I have in her. She believes in me, and that’s all that matters. I smile slightly, feeling her lips against mine. I can’t afford to disappoint her after everything she’s done for me. It’s the least I can do for her. When I open my eyes, she greets me with her usual smile.

- Will you come pick me up?

- Of course, I’ve already told you. Just send me a text, and I’ll be there in a minute, she says, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. I’ll never be far away.

I nod, returning her smile softly. I can do this. For her. I give her one last kiss before unbuckling my seatbelt and opening the door.

- See you later.

- See you later, my love.

I close the door on those final words. That nickname still makes my stomach flutter. I’m not bold enough to call her that yet. I’ve done it over text, but that’s different. I hope it will come naturally in time. Although she doesn’t complain about my hesitancy, I know that it could become an issue in the long run if I don’t change. I take a deep breath and check the time as I stand in front of the garage door. I’m early, but punctuality is always a good thing at work, right? I force myself not to look back where Lucy is still sitting in the car. Even though this place scares me, I need to prove I can handle things on my own. With a surge of courage, I knock on the metal door, which echoes loudly in the deserted street. Shortly after, a door I hadn’t noticed next to the garage opens. I blush at my mistake as a man with graying hair appears. He doesn’t seem to notice, smiling warmly at me. Despite his gray hair, he looks like he’s in his forties. He has a rather neat appearance, dressed in a suit without a tie or bow tie, and wearing loafers. His hair is shorter on the sides and barely styled on top, as if he just ran his hand through it with some gel. That’s probably what happened.

- Good morning, he says, cutting through my daze with his deep voice. You must be Ona Batlle?

- P-pardon... Good morning... That’s me.

I awkwardly shake his extended hand. He chuckles softly and opens the door wider, inviting me inside. Before stepping in, I glance back one last time at Lucy’s car. Unfortunately, it’s too far away to see her inside, though I’m sure she hasn’t missed a moment of this first encounter. Reluctantly, I turn back and step into this unfamiliar place. I feel uneasy, even more so with a stranger.

- Don’t be nervous, he says, closing the door behind us. My name is Bennett Fields. May I speak informally with you?

I stop myself from frowning. He started talking informally right from the beginning, so it’s odd that he’s asking now. It’s not like I would refuse.

- Of course, I say without thinking.

I glance around. From here, the place looks much less intimidating than it did outside. It’s warmer and much brighter than I expected. I understand why when I see a large glass window at the back of the room that opens onto a courtyard. The room isn’t very deep, but I notice an opening on the right. As I imagined, this isn’t a gallery but a studio. A studio well-stocked with supplies. It’s a paradise for an enthusiast like me.

- Glad to see you like the place.

I smile awkwardly and focus my attention back on him. The idea of being alone with a man I don’t know makes me nervous.

- I’ve never seen so many supplies in one place, I admit with admiration.

- I appreciate the spark of passion in your eyes. I must confess, this is the first time I’ve welcomed someone so young into my space, he says as he walks deeper into the room.

I quickly follow, trying to keep from daydreaming any further. I tend to get lost in thought when it comes to art, making it difficult to stay focused. We take the opening at the back. It leads to a hallway where the glass windows continue on our left. On the other side, there are also windows set in a black steel frame. It gives the place a true industrial feel, which I love.

- So why did you agree to meet with me?

The words slip out before I can stop them. Even though he turns to smile at me again, I feel foolish.

- Initially, I was very impressed with the talent displayed in your portfolio. When I tried to contact you directly, I was surprised to learn that I had to go through someone else first.

I bite my lip, knowing full well he’s talking about Lucy. He stops in front of another glass panel on our right. The doors have been carelessly left open. I see a much larger space than the entrance. This is where the artists work. Numerous easels with canvases on them stand in every corner of the room. In the middle, there’s a huge table with supplies already laid out. I can tell people have been here by the still-wet paint on one of the canvases. This discovery reassures me slightly. At least I’m not alone with him. The glass windows bring in a lot of light. Anyone who appreciates art knows that daylight is the best source.

- I learned that this person shared your portfolio without your knowledge, he continues as we walk down the hallway. We had a long conversation about you and the reasons that prompted her to do so, he says, finally stopping in front of a door.

When he opens it, I see it’s an office. He enters first, so I follow. With a wave of his hand, he invites me to sit in a chair in front of his desk, which I do without hesitation. I’m relieved not to have brought my bag or anything else cumbersome. He sits across from me, resting his chin on his hands, which he’s clasped together, and looks straight into my eyes.

- This person spoke very highly of you. She seems to care a great deal about you and believes in your abilities. She made me even more curious about you. I was slightly hesitant because of your school’s reputation, but she assured me that everyone has different struggles, and that unlike others, you’re a very decent person.

He pauses to take a deep breath.

- In short, if I invited you here, it’s because I wanted to meet you in person and form my own opinion. While I trust her words, I like to know who I’m dealing with.

I swallow hard and nod. I should have expected this. I did expect everything he just said. I even told Lucy that it was strange for him to welcome someone from our school, but she didn’t want to believe me. It seems she managed to sell me well. He keeps smiling at me. So far, I can’t quite figure him out. He’s warmer than I anticipated. I pictured him much older, more wrinkled, and less well-groomed.

- So, Ona Batlle... I’m not expecting you to talk about your life or professional background. I already know you graduated from high school and that you’ve been at Camp Wiegman since this year.

- Then what do you want me to talk about?

- The answer seems rather obvious... If I brought you here, it’s to talk about art. So, how did you develop your talents?

I shrug, not really knowing how to answer that question. There’s not much to say, really.

"I've always enjoyed drawing. I've been doing it constantly since childhood. I suppose it's an activity that has always helped clear my mind."

The man in front of me leans back in his chair, scratching the small beard growing on his chin. He seems to be absorbing my words with interest.

"So, if I understand correctly, you've never taken any classes or had an art teacher?"

I shake my head. My father wanted to enroll me in classes when he noticed that it was all I did, but my mother found it impossible. No one could take me when my father wasn't around, which was half the year. There were my grandparents, but they were still working at the time. They had a small shop they kept until they managed to sell it, since my father wasn't going to take it over given his job.

"Interesting," he murmurs. "Where do you find your inspiration, then?"

I tense up at this question, though I was expecting it. Every artist draws inspiration from somewhere. Mine was dark for many years. However, I'm not sure if that's still the case since Lucy came into my life. Based on my sketchbooks, it seems like she's managed to chase away all the negative thoughts from my mind. He hasn't even had the chance to see my worst works.

"My family, my friends," I reply vaguely. "Most of the time, I just recreate what I see around me."

"The sketchbook I saw had landscapes. Did they mean something to you?"

"Yes... I was in conflict with the person I saw them with. I needed to release my frustration and their absence."

He gives a small, mischievous smile that quickly disappears as he regains his seriousness.

"Have you ever tried doing anything other than reproductions?"

"No... Well, very rarely. I've tried, but I always felt like it didn’t look right. However, I do draw portraits sometimes, and though I haven't done much, I've always wanted to learn abstract and contemporary art."

He nods without giving away what he's thinking. As I say this, I feel like I'm admitting I can't do much. Nowadays, reproductions don't impress people anymore. Yet that's what I do. I'm just an amateur, and that’s exactly what makes me doubt my abilities.

"Good," he smiles. "All of this is very interesting. Your mentor wasn’t wrong about you."

I bite my tongue at the term he uses for Lucy. I would have preferred that he didn't know that kind of thing. Especially since she's my girlfriend now.

"I have one last question for you. I promised your mentor I wouldn't push you too hard, so I'll understand if you don't want to answer."

I nod, frowning slightly. Lucy must have talked to him at length for him to know so much about me.

"I know you have a painful past, according to your mentor. I'd like to know if it's still your source of inspiration?"

"No," I answer without hesitation. "I had dark paintings for a long time, but I recently met someone who helped me move out of that phase. It's when I think of that person that I now draw my inspiration."

A new smile appears on his face. It feels like he knows exactly who I'm talking about. I hope I'm wrong. To my surprise, he doesn't say anything else and gets up from his chair.

"What do you think about giving me a little demonstration? I'm intrigued by what you can actually do, and I'd like to see for myself how you handle a brush."

"Really?" I ask, surprised.

"Of course. I'd like to see how you work in your element. Then, if the results are satisfying, we can talk about what's next. What do you think?"

I nod enthusiastically. Talking about what’s next. Oh my God, I can’t believe it! Although everything isn’t settled yet, he's giving me hope that it might happen. I hope I can make a good impression with my technique now. Lucy was right about one thing when she tried to reassure me—I’m in my element here. I have nothing to be afraid of. If nothing works out here, then I'll be motivated to try elsewhere. Lucy was right; here, I’m in my element. I shouldn’t be afraid to be in my element, or else I’ll never feel comfortable anywhere.

"Alright," he smiles. "Let's get to it. I'm eager to see what you can do."

I expected the interview to be much longer and more personal. Yet, he stayed very focused on questions related to art, and that motivates me to show him what I'm capable of. He also managed to make me feel comfortable around him. Without any hesitation, I follow him to the workshop we passed earlier. As we exit, I notice he didn't even close the door behind him. Who doesn’t close the door during an interview? A small smile spreads across my lips at the thought that Lucy might have ordered him to do such a thing, though I could be wrong. As I focus on the room from earlier, I notice it’s no longer empty. A woman in her thirties has appeared. She’s continuing the painting I noticed when I first arrived. I greet her timidly as I continue to follow Mr. Fields. He stops in front of an easel at the back of the room, surrounded by various materials. It looks like he planned all this. I don't even know where to look. Seeing this, he smiles again.

"Go ahead, have fun, and above all, don’t hold back your imagination. That’s where your inspiration comes from, after all."

For the first time since I got here, I genuinely smile. The thought of having all this to myself, even for just one painting, excites me like a three-year-old child who just got a present. Without hesitation, I grab a brush to start my painting, with my only inspiration being the emerald eyes of my girlfriend.

Tuesday, February 23; 2:15 PM - Manchester

With a heavy heart full of hope, we're back at the warehouse. I think the interview went well. Mr. Fields insisted that I eat with him and a few of the artists who were there today. I couldn't really refuse, so I accepted after informing Lucy. I loved being with them. They made me feel comfortable, and they talked a lot about how they ended up here. Now that we’re back, I realize it’s the end of the meeting when Mr. Fields shakes my hand.

"Thank you for your warm welcome."

"It was my pleasure. I'll contact you once I've made my decision. In the meantime, I wish you good luck with your final exams, and maybe I'll see you soon."

I watch him return to the warehouse before breaking into a big smile. I hope this works out! I was about to send a message to Lucy so she could come pick me up, but I see that she’s already there when I turn toward the spot where she was this morning. I quickly cross the street and get into the car. I don’t give her time to speak before I kiss her without restraint. None of this would have been possible without her. Lucy giggles against my lips, gently pushing me back.

"Hey," she says with a hint of amusement. "I take it everything went well?"

"It was amazing! I think I have a chance. I mean, he was really cool with me. We talked a bit, and then he let me draw. A lot, actually! He even helped me improve on some things. Obviously, I still have a lot to learn, but I think he’s really interested in my profile, and—"

- "Wow, breathe, Ona," she laughs.

I stop to actually catch my breath. Without warning, I cradle her face and kiss her again. I’m feeling so emotional right now, and it makes me want to be as close to her as possible. She gently places her hands on my wrists to calm me down again. I pull away, blushing with embarrassment.

- "Just thank you. Thank you for everything. This is all thanks to you."

- "I didn't do much. You should thank yourself for your obvious talent."

- "I'm not thanking you for that. Well, yes, of course, but mostly I’m thanking you for all the support you’ve given me. Because of you, I might finally have the future I’ve always wanted. I needed someone who believed in me more than I believed in myself, so thank you."

Lucy's expression softens at my words. She smiles tenderly and kisses my cheek.

- "The pleasure is all mine, my love. And now, how about you tell me what he said, hmm?"

It seems her curiosity is suddenly piqued. So, I start recounting everything from the beginning as she starts driving. I begin with the interview, which felt too short in my opinion. Then, I tell her about when I started painting. For the first time in my life, I tried painting something abstract. Mr. Fields was rather amused, knowing that I had never done it before, but he appreciated my boldness in trying to impress him. However, he eventually stopped me, preferring that I paint something I was more comfortable with. He then suggested that one of his employees pose for me. I had no trouble doing that, and that’s when he started giving me pointers on some of my techniques. After that, I couldn’t stop. I kept painting, over and over, in my element.

- "You must have really enjoyed the interview if you agreed to have lunch with them."

I blush and nod. Coming here, I never imagined I would stay so long or feel so comfortable in the end. If I wasn’t sure before, I now know that I want to make art my career.

- "Yeah, it was really cool."

- "What did he say about what happens next?"

- "He was surprised by what I can do without taking a single class. Before we left for the restaurant, he told me that if he takes me under his wing, I’ll have to take classes to improve and expand my knowledge. I hope my skills and motivation will convince him to keep me."

- "I have no doubt about that, baby. I’m sure you managed to impress him."

I smile as she places her hand on my knee. I love that she does that every time we’re driving somewhere. It makes me feel like I belong to her.

- "Now you just have to keep your promise for tonight," I tease.

A genuine laugh escapes her lips.

- "I suppose so, yes. I never doubted that everything would go well, you know."

- "Then why did you say that?"

- "Because you’ve become much more reasonable than you were a few months ago. The fact that you were drinking didn’t bother me. It was the fact that you were overdoing it and had no limits."

I bite my lip, fully understanding what she means. I’m not that reckless girl anymore, and now she trusts me. Even if I drink to the point of not remembering, she won’t hold it against me like she used to. Especially now that she’ll always be by my side. I’ve realized why she refused to let me go to parties for so long. She wanted me to learn the lesson, not punish me forever.

- "And by the way... How are the girls doing?"

Her deep groan makes it clear that she must have had a terrible morning.

- "Full of energy, if you ask me. Instead of helping with my stress, they spent their time making fun of me."

- "You should have expected that," I giggle. "Who would have thought they’d end up together," I say thoughtfully. "I still can’t quite wrap my head around it."

- "I’m happy they did," she admits to me. "They’re perfect for each other. And at least we know they’re both doing well."

- "You never told me much about Ingrid. I mean, I knew you were close, but I never knew how."

- "She was a great support to me when Keira died. She started off as just my manager, then became an instructor, but she quickly became a great friend. She helped me get out and introduced me to her friends who became mine... And Jenni became hers."

- "You’re a solid group."

- "We are," she smiles softly. "We each have our own stories."

- "Does Ingrid have one?"

- "You could say that. She was estranged from her parents, so she left home early to strike out on her own."

- "Is that why you think they’re made for each other?"

- "In a way... You see, they didn’t have anyone else besides their friends... So yes, I think they’re meant to be together, if only for that reason. They’ll have the chance to form a new family if things last between them."

I nod in agreement. She’s right. The one thing Mapi was missing was a family. Of course, she always said I was her family, but I could tell something was missing. I could have been that for her if we had been together, but that wasn’t the case. Ingrid is her new family, and that thought warms my heart for my best friend. At least this time, I really like her new girlfriend. I take a deep breath, thinking about a second thing Lucy mentioned. She rarely talks about Keira, so I gently prompt her to continue.

- "So Keira brought you closer... Her death affected your work too, didn’t it?"

- "A lot, yes," she replies without hesitation. "Keira loved that I took this job when I started. She always said I would save many people like her. I was supposed to start right after her death, so my work became very personal. I became cold but deeply involved in every case I had to handle."

- "That’s how you earned your nickname, Commander," I murmur. "Is that why you don’t like it when I call you that?"

Her hand tightens on my thigh for a moment, but she nods.

- "Yeah... I’m sorry, baby."

- "Don’t apologize. I’m glad you’re talking to me about it. Was I the only one with a drug problem?"

- "No, but you were the only one I had to personally take care of. Honestly, your addiction surprised me. Wiegman had promised not to give me such cases, especially after Keira. So, I expected many things from you, but not that."

- "Why did he do it then...?"

- "I’m still asking myself that question today. He knew your mother. He wanted to resolve your case in a year, and I think deep down, he knew I was the only one who would understand you."

- "And he wasn’t wrong," I affirm.

- "He wasn’t wrong," she confirms. "I defended you on things he didn’t expect. That’s why he trusts me so much with you. It’s a good compromise given our relationship."

We’ve arrived back at her building. This conversation was enlightening and more unsettling than I expected. I turn to her when we’re parked.

- "Lucy," I start hesitantly.

- "Don’t say anything."

- "You don’t even know what I was going to say."

- "Yes, I do," she says with amusement. "And now is not the time to tell me you love me."

My open mouth closes immediately. How did she know? The words have been on the tip of my tongue for some time now, but I haven’t been able to say them yet.

- "Your eyes tell me enough, Ona, but please, say it when you’re really ready. You’re too emotional right now, and I don’t want you to say it impulsively."

I hate it when she’s right. I feel so foolish that I blush stupidly. She unbuckles her seatbelt while looking me straight in the eyes.

- "Well, how about we bake some cookies before we get ready for tonight? I did some shopping, and I think Joan will be delighted to have some when she comes over tomorrow."

- "Oh yes, that’s a great idea. He loves them."

- "I have no doubt he does, if he loves them as much as you do," she giggles.

[siriusblackslut]

One where Sejanus realises Coryo is not such a great friend after all

Coryo may not be Sejanus’ best friend, but he sure is best at something else involving Sejanus’ girlfriend.

Pairing: Coriolanus/Reader

Word: 3667

Warnings: mildly dubious consent, infidelity?, cuckholding

It had been spoken in confidence.

Whether in a moment of drunkenness or a lapse in judgement, Sejanus had divulged his greatest insecurity to someone he had thought he could trust.    

Coriolanus would have thanked his lucky stars, but he was a cautious man and had to see for himself first.

And see he did. He watches with hungry eyes, your silhouette at the head of the bed and the tops of your knees spread flushed against the headboard that Sejanus grips till his knuckles turn white as he ruts uncontrollably like a district animal into you.

“Sej,” he can make out his friend’s name between your laboured moans and figures from the staccato of your breaths that you must be close.

So it was with even greater delight when he watches Sejanus’ hips slow and stutter, grunting as he pulls back away from you.

As if Coryo needed yet another reason to think Sejanus incompetent.

He hears you whine in response, and the frustration is evident in your throat.

“Fuck, I’m sorry.”

Your fingers glisten in the lamplight, your own arousal from the futile efforts at your clit, Coryo thinks, as you draw your boyfriend tight into your chest. “It’s okay, it’s fine Sej.”

“Tomorrow, I promise.”

There is a pause, then a restrained sigh. “Sure.”

Coryo thinks that this intimate interaction is cute in a pitiful way, and he has had enough been its voyeur, letting the clicks of his shoes make his presence known.

Clearly, it takes you by surprise and you shriek, arms wrapping tighter to clutch at your boyfriend and blinking in sheer astonishment as you watch his friend make his leisurely way through your bedroom floor, grabbing at the dresser chair and pulling it to face the bed before making himself too comfortable in it.

All whilst no one spoke in a perplexing silence.

You had to elbow Sejanus for him to finally speak, and even then, the confrontation felt reluctant. “What are you doing here, Coryo?” Sejanus sighs.

God, he was so pathetic.

“What am I doing here?” Coryo repeats in mock surprise, “You were the one who asked for help, remember?”

Now that gets your attention. “Help?” you ask sharply, “help with what?”, and then in a disapproving tone you add, “And really is this the best time for it?”

Your cluelessness almost endears him, but Coryo doesn’t acknowledge you just yet, giving Sejanus a pointed look instead, “You haven’t told her?”

“Tell me what?”

“Come on now Sejanus.” Coryo tuts.

“I just— it’s silly really.”

Sejanus doesn’t offer any more than that and Coryo is more than happy to comply now.

“Just that he couldn’t satisfy you with his little prick.” Coryo doesn’t love a lot of things, but he sure does love stirring up trouble.

It has the intended effect, and you shove Sejanus from you in a moment of disgust, shuffling towards the edge of the bed. The hurt and betrayal in your voice makes Coryo giddy, “You told him that? That’s private!” and he also notes that you have not denied the very fact. “And besides, what did you expect him to do about it?” Your gaze follows your accusatory finger through to Sejanus’ friend, only to be met with greedy eyes raking over your now bare tits, and only then did you cross your arms.

It's disappointing, but Coryo considers it a little teaser as to what more there is to come. He shrugs, “A demonstration.”

“A demonstration?” you scoff, “That’s ludri-“

“What do you say Sej?”

It irks you that he discusses you like you were not in the very same room, but at least you have your boyfriend to count on, right?

It is a soft mutter and Sejanus cannot meet your eyes. “I guess.”

Coryo thinks Sejanus is so so stupid, but it works so well in his favour.

“You heard him,” and he is already making quick work at the buttons of his fly, sliding his trousers down just below his hips so that from the clothed bulge springs up a pretty cock, proud and slit already weeping. The room is dim, but you can see the shadows snaking their way around the bulging veins at his thick shaft in a way that looked simply irresistible.

The protest in your throat feels stuck.

Coryo knows you were already especially susceptible, having just had an orgasm snatched out of your wanting hands moments earlier, and now with you upset at Sejanus? He knows you only needed the sight of his sweet cock to nudge you in the right direction that is a little closer to him.

But then you glance back at your boyfriend for approval and the loyalty dripping in the air is sickening.

Coryo raps his palm on his clothed thigh, and it gets your attention, snapping you out of your trance. “On here,” he instructs.

You peer through your lashes shyly once more at him. 

“I won’t ask twice.”

But then your gaze moves back to Sejanus and whatever for? It makes Coryo nauseous.

He puts you out of your misery and kindly makes up your irresolute mind for you. Lunging to drag you back from the edge of the bed and onto his lap back at the chair, he hooks your left thigh behind his own. You topple over losing your balance in surprise, and Coryo works fast to tuck your other leg behind his right knee, spreading you out into a lovely position onto his lap with your bare back pressing against his clothed chest.

He laments the fact that he would miss watching your tits bounce as he fucks you on his cock, but the way you are now bound with your helpless thighs secured behind his makes up for that very fact and besides, he likes having that to look forward to next time.

Skimming his fingers up the curve of your waist making you shiver, he pulls you down against his lap. The friction of the scratchy wool of his trousers against your naked thigh feels unpleasant, but your pussy, oh it glides across his hard shaft smearing your arousal across it in a way that you can feel every pulsating bump of vein across your delicate folds.

A soft whimper breaks through your lips.  

“I think she’s warming up to it now, Sej.” Coryo loves being cruel and to be cruel now, was to remind you that you were letting yourself be ravaged by another whilst your boyfriend watches meekly on.  

It has the intended effect and Coryo expects no less from you. Your hands scrambling for his clad thigh, just yet another reminder of how bare you are, to push yourself up and your core prepares to tense, but Coryo is sick of this game and he digs his fingers painfully into your waist pushing you down once more and this time, the head of his cock bumps against your clit.

The sudden friction makes you slack against his arms and Coryo makes out the beginning of a moan before you swallow it down your throat.

Coryo isn’t an idiot, he knows his ministrations affects you; he can feel the hitch of your breath against his chest, the hammering of your heart against his forearm, but still, you maintain a poor attempt of indifference. Perhaps it is out of respect for Sejanus, but it only serves as a challenge for Coryo because whilst it was fun to have you struggle against him and for him to take whatever he wants that is more than you were willing to give, he finds greater thrill to have you begging for him despite whatever silly feelings you have for your boyfriend. He wants to take you, then your mind, then Sejanus’ pride, confidence and dignity.

With his free hand that isn’t leaving bruises at your waist, he reaches over your thighs tangled with his own to fist at his cock. He starts slowly, teasing it up your delicate folds before stopping to swirl at your clit. His spongy flesh rubbing against your sensitive core draws another gasp out of you, but it is short and muffled.

So, he rinses and repeat, continuing his incessant teasing until he gets exactly what he wants. Dragging his angry cock-head down your silky pussy lips and then up again to kiss at that swollen nub. Once, he has you squirming on his lap, then twice and thrice until you are shamelessly bucking your hips.

But Coryo still doesn’t miss the way your eyes continue to skitter towards Sejanus’ for his continuing approval, and he decides he mustn’t have broken you enough yet.

Leaving your achy clit, Coryo tugs his cock down and just barely dips the tip of his cock into your dripping slit, and oh yes, that seemed to do it.

Your hips snap up, desperate for him to stretch you wide and split you open in half, but Coryo is smart and has already pulled his cock away, just enough for your pussy to smear against his shaft. “Fuck, please,” your voice is gravelly and laced with a mixture of frustration and arousal.

Coryo almost feels sorry for you, but he has one more to go after.

Pressing his cock at your slit once more, he feels the gentle parting of your pussy lips dripping with your nectar just for him and he savours the moment of your hot wet envelope around him even if it is just the tip, before he pulls away once more.

You gasp your strangled gasp, “I need— please,” and he knows it must have taken every single ounce of your pride to even muster one up in front of Sejanus, “please, Coryo.”

His name rolling off your tongue was intoxicating and he nearly loses his resolve. Nearly.

You roll your hips weakly, but it is to no avail.

A choked sob escapes your throat, and he feels the tears trickling down your cheek, dripping onto his shirt.

His cock is impossibly hard now, but Coryo is adamant still, guiding his throbbing tip just between your lips. He can feel the twitching of your folds, their inviting stretch just for him.

“Please, I need--” you hiccup between your desperate sobs, “Please, please Cory—"

“Just fuck her alright!”

Poor Sejanus. Sejanus with that encouraging expression now wavering, seemingly regretting allowing this lewd and filthy sight, but who also appears to have had enough of his girlfriend tortured, quivering and spilling full of unresolved tension.

Coryo smirks crookedly.

One more shallow and controlled thrust, the tip of his angry cockhead skimming the petals of your swollen pussy just for a moment before he pulls your pliant body up by the waist and—

He lets you sink onto him.

It is met with a little resistance initially as he buries his throbbing tip into you, and then with another forceful thrust and his bruising fingers by your waist pulling you further down onto him, the girth of his shaft soon follows, swallowed within your wet walls.

Judging from your faint whimpers, it is a tight fit, tight and snug in a way he is sure you can feel every bump that is a pulsating vein as he sheaths more of himself into you.

“Am I doing okay, Sej?”

Coryo rolls his eyes.

It seems he had not been the only one who had noticed Sejanus’ smile growing strained.

And he had really thought he had you broken enough too, but he is more than happy to remedy his oversight.

He snaps his hips, forcefully burying himself into you in retaliation and the room reverberates that obscene squelch of your pussy.

“I’m sorry,” he drawls, bored as if his whole cock wasn’t throbbing inside you, “Did you forget who’s cock you’re currently impaled on?”

You maintain your silence but that only serves to irritate Coryo even more.

“The cock that you begged for!”

God, Coryo is so unimpressed with you. If only you had played nice, he would have eased you in with some languid thrusts, but he is severely irritated now and decides that an unforgiving pace of his pistoning hips into yours may set right your aching heart, if not pussy.

You cry out as he fucks into you violently, but Coryo is ruthless and he pushes you further into a territory of pain with his fingernails digging into the hollows of your cheek as he jolts your limp head upright. It makes your eyes water.

“Look at him.”

Blinking your tears away, you see Sejanus with a watery expression. Coryo thinks Sejanus couldn’t look anymore pitiful.

He snarls and it is threatening, “Tell me, is he fucking you right now?”

The drive of his hips is unrelentless now, and from the pain rises a familiar yearning and it is the fear of losing it, you don’t think you could go through another stolen-near-almost orgasm, that replies him.

“No,” you murmur hazily, shaking your head as if to prove your point further and Coryo thinks that this is the point of no return, “just you Coryo.”

He likes you like this, obedient like a puppy, and he rewards you by bringing his free hand to your pussy engorged with his cock, his calloused fingers twirling at your clit.

It is clearly the right decision as not a moment after, you are bucking your hips, grinding yourself deeper onto him, and Coryo understands why Sejanus had so much trouble holding himself back when he is inside you because you were just so warm and hot and wet and all-encompassing.  

Coryo doesn’t mind sitting back for a little while. He slows his thrusts, all the better to savour the spectacle that is Sejanus broken down and hacked into pieces with a front row seat of his girlfriend’s pretty pink pussy glistening stretched obscenely around Coryo’s thick shaft as she bounces away happily, completely cock-drunk and chasing her own release that he couldn’t not supply.  

And to rub salt into the wound, Coryo grips a fistful of your hair, pushing your head down towards his to capture your lips in a painful kiss with his tongue swirling in your mouth.  

When he pulls back, there is a strand of spit glimmering between his mouth and your lips that hung agape.

He smears it onto the crook of your neck, “I think Sej likes this different view.” Coryo’s murmurs are soft enough to be covered by your breathy pants, but he pulls back a little so that Sejanus has an eyeful of his lips brushing at your ear as they moved in speech because how better than to stir up his insecurities? “You better give him a show.”

Stupid with your eyes half-lidded barely making out the silhouette of your boyfriend at the edge of the bed, you believe him, giving another sensual roll of your hips, your chest thrusting forward in the same motion.

“Tell Sejanus whose cock is making you feel so good.”

You let your boyfriend, and the neighbours for that matter, know, a string of Coryo’s name tumbling out of your mouth until they reform back to unintelligible pants.

And when Coryo removes his face nuzzling into your neck to commit to memory Sejanus’ broken expression whilst you chant his name over and over like a fervent prayer, Coryo is even more amused when he realises Sejanus is half hard and to what? The sick sight of his girlfriend enjoying herself on his best friend’s fat dick?

“Let your boyfriend know just how much you love this.”

You are a docile little thing, complying with a dizzy sigh, “God, I love this Sej.”

“Tell him what I’m doing to make you love this.” This is a demonstration after all and Sejanus needs to learn, although the lesson Coryo is teaching had more to do with Sejanus’ place.

“He’s—" Your scrambled brain cannot keep up with all the sensations inflicted on you, so you settle with pointing out the obvious, “He’s fucking me Sej.”

Hardly, you seem to be doing most of the work anyways.

“Am I better than him?”

“I--” you swallow thickly, “I love this.”

Coryo senses your hesitation, and he acts swiftly and decisively, lips latching towards your limp neck to lick a bead of your salty sweat up behind your ear. “He’s hard” he whispers.  

You blink the happy tears out of your eyes and sure enough, you pan down your boyfriend’s guilty expression to find him fisting his erection.

Coryo asks you once more. “Tell your boyfriend who makes you feel better. Tell him!” he snarls.

And sure as hell being the dumb little girl you are, you’re convinced. Or maybe it is Coryo resuming his powerful and painful drive of his hips meeting the downward jut of hips, his angry cockhead licking some sensitive spongy spot within your pulsating wall. Regardless, you answer his question.

“You Coryo!” you wailed, and he is happy with your answer, slowing his thrusts to a lazy pace. He can feel the beginnings of your orgasm, the involuntary twitching of your pussy walls hugging his cock as you continue to grind onto him and he helps you out, the rough pads of his fingers now drawing tight circles at your sensitive clit.

He feels you when the tension finally snaps, when you tumble over the edge. Your walls hug him impossibly tight and he feels your warmth trickling down his cock lodged inside you as you drench him in all your sweet nectar. It feels good, but it feels even better knowing that Sejanus has never had your pretty walls squeeze his cock like this.

It is hidden amongst your strings of gasps when Coryo hears an unmistakable grunt. He looks up to see Sejanus spent once again with globs of white scattered on his thighs and stomach. And to the sight of his own girlfriend coming undone on his best friend’s cock, Coryo wants to laugh.

“She even tighter when she cums,” he tells Sejanus with no sordid detail spared, “Twitching around me and so fucking warm too.”

Your moan in response, whether in agreement or in protest is irrelevant, but along with your trembling thighs still mindlessly bucking as you ride out your orgasm on his still hard cock, it adds to Coryo’s point.  

“All you have to do,” Coryo instructs between his own groans, “is you just fuck her stupid like this.”

A demonstration after all, and with his free hand that isn’t flicking at your sensitive clit, Coryo digs his fingers into your waist to hold your quivering hips in place before he speeds up to an unrelentless pace now chasing his own release.

It seems to prolong your own too, or maybe gets you to another high judging by the wracked gasp escaping your throat and the way your walls seem to massage his cock even further as if urging him to spill into you.

Twice, he muses condescendingly.  

The thought of Sejanus utterly humiliated, Sejanus who has all the wealth in the world but who cannot even get his gorgeous girlfriend to come undone not once but twice on his cock, is exhilarating.

And then the knowledge that tonight’s memory, you grinding on Coryo’s cock with your walls clamping down tight on his pulsating member that was spurting and tainting your walls with seed white as snow, is now forever seared into Sejanus’ little district brain, seared in a way that makes his cuckhold prick hard, brings Coryo over the edge.

He gives one final thrust, burying his whole hard length into you so that his cockhead spilling his creamy essence just kissed your cervix. His teeth sink into your shoulder as he tips over the edge because Coryo is sick, wanting a permanent mark for Sejanus to remember this night by, but maybe you are sick like him too because he knows it must have been painful, the taste of iron evident on his tongue, and yet he is blessed with another one of your shaky gasp coupled with another unmistakable wave of your walls just clenching around his spurting cock.  

It is all nearly too much for you bear.

Overstimulating really. Coryo who is still drawing languid circles at your clit whilst rutting, shallowly albeit, into you, the sudden spread of warmth in your belly as he empties himself into you, the viscous trickle of blood down your collarbone, the clammy sweat mix with the sweet metallic smell of blood lingering thick in the air and the pain at your shoulder radiating like electricity to your core, has you reduced to a string of whimpers and moans squirming weakly on Coryo’s lap.

It isn’t long before his softening cock breaks the seal of your spent pussy, and with every weak clench of your pussy from the overstimulation that is Coryo’s digit still at your clit, his cum begins to drip out of you.

It is messy, and Coryo decides he has enough; he doesn’t want his trousers dirtied. Moving his clad thighs out of the way, you instinctively squeeze your strained legs together in a poor attempt to mask the trickle of his creamy seed now trailing down your inner thigh, stumbling your way back onto the bed next to Sejanus.

The sight in front of him, the debauchery that is the cuckhold heir of the Plinth fortune and then you, his regal little girlfriend wearing a dizzy drunk expression with Coryo’s own seed sticky sandwiched between your thighs, all whilst he is fully dressed after tucking himself back into his slacks, though with unpolished shoes and faded cufflinks and a tad more w`rinkled, makes Coryo feel immensely powerful and does wonders for his ego.

And just for the final blow, Coryo gives Sejanus’ shoulder a squeeze on his way out. “Might just demonstrate a different position next time,” he says smugly and then his lip curls up into a smirk that he hopes looked cruel, “I like it much better when Snow’s on top.”

[shotgunbunny]

Like real people do

Dark!Lumberjack! Ari x Airhead! Reader

WC:3k+. GIF by lilacevans

Warnings: [smut! Breeding kink! olderman and younger woman! dubcon! noncon! manipulation! toxic! this is a dark oneshot!]

You were always labelled as naive and very trusting ever since you were young. But now you were older that tag never left in fact it was now accompanied with the word dumb. So to the entire town you were the pretty young thing who never held a thought in her head but always had a smile on her glossed lips.

Some of those beliefs that you were an airhead evolved from the numerous times you defended the mysterious man that lives in the forest. Everyone claimed he was evil and rude, truly someone who would never find love unless he had to force it. Yet throughout all that talk all you could think about is a lonely lumberjack, patiently waiting for the love of his life to step foot in the forest for him to sweep her away and cherish her. Just like Hades and Persephone.

So because you believed so heavily that the people misjudged this man, you defended him. You made sure that any slander that was spoken about Ari was silenced. You admired him despite never meeting him. He was so strong to deal with all the rumours and still stay in this town.

You never understood where the mean ideas stemmed from. After all how could a man be so cruel?

It was a fresh new morning and it was your job to open the bakery. You took a lot of pride in your baking. For everything you baked was utter perfection, at least that's what the customers told you.

Today you were adorned in you uniform with a long fluffy cardigan keeping your bare arms and legs warm. Your uniform consisted of a cute white top that had a pink collar and a small pink skirt. You adored it purely because of how cute it was.

As you were about to unlock the bakery you heard a grunt to your side and turned to observe, you wish you'd have taken a breath as the gasp you let out was audible to both you and the gentleman that you were facing.

You don't know if you could even call him a gentleman he looked more like a mountain man. He towered over you at 6'7 and his large frame drowned you. He truly was a giant and you were left in shock that men could truly be built like Greek gods and not remain as fairytales.

You looked at him more closely and saw how pretty his blue eyes were, they showed amusement in them. His hair brown was long and his beard was so full. You wondered if he was covered in hair, maybe he was more bear than he was man. It would explain his height and stature. As intimidating as his build was you were utterly enchanted by his gorgeous face. The way his face was made so beautiful and how his muscles were crafted to bulge against his flannel shirt as he held logs of wood.

At the realisation he was holding logs you snapped out of your stupor and offered a small apologetic smile for observing the beautiful man.

"You done ogling me, little one?"

His voice was deep and it caused your thighs to push together and your folds to wetten. Your cheeks flushed at being caught.

"I'm sorry sir! It's just you seem to be out of one those fantasy books!"

"Well angel I can ensure 'm not. Though it's cute you think so. But if I'm from a fantasy book you must be from a fairytale book. Look at ya'. All pink n shit, look like a go'damn little princess."

You giggled making the large man smile down at you.

"Well if I'm a princess you can be my knight! You can protect me from mean people!"

"Is that right little one? How are you sure I'm not a mean man?"

You smiled up at him, completely oblivious to the fact that he could be. You trusted this man for simply calling you a princess.

"You wouldn't hurt me sir! You're my knight after all, you'd save me whenever I'm in trouble."

To which he let out a hearty chuckle and your smile turned into a grin, Happy to have coaxed musical happiness from the mountain of a man.

"You're right princess. I am here to save you from trouble. That's why I brought some wood."

Then it dawned on you. There was only one lumberjack in town and he delivered all his wood himself. This was the one and only Ari Levinson. The man the town hated on. Yet here he was laughing with you. He was no villain he was a simple man, and it warmed your heart knowing you were right about him the entire time.

"You're here to help with the oven! I forgot all about it! It's such an honour to meet you Mr. Levinson. Everyone around here says mean stuff but I didn't believe them and I was right! Take that Billy!"

Ari looked down at you and smiled softly, having heard murmurs about a gullible girl holding your name and how she defended the cruel man in the forest despite never meeting him. He felt a tinge of anger though the second you mentioned another's name. How dare you bring another person's name in the presence of the man you've been defending. Every time you preserved his name, the more he saw you as a potential for carrying his name. He assumed that you were trying to court him and now he was here, he was going to claim you.

"So you're my little champion, protecting me from the mean folk. It's an honour to meet you angel. Truly ,"

You couldn't help but blush about how he'd heard you guarding who he was and defending his honour. You smiled and opened the bakery door fully and you both stepped in. You then checked the sign was still flipped so that it said closed to ensure that then you can start everything and open in an hour.

"Umm Ari, can you put the wood in the oven for me, I don't know how and Margaret said she didn't want me hurting myself."

Ari looked at you and smiled, he didn't want you hurting yourself either. You were far too perfect to get any injury and if you ever did have a scratch on your smooth skin, he'd ensure that anyone who caused it would end up being cut up just like he does with his wood. No one would harm you, not his little angel. But he knew he could squeeze something out of you due to how much you trusted him. It was almost comedic how gullible you were for him. But he knew you were just an airhead, but he was gonna change that so your head was filled with him.

"I'll do it angel, for a kiss. How does that sound?"

You pondered for a moment, and then agreed. It was only gonna be a mere pec on the cheek and it was an absolute win to kiss your handsome knights cheek. Though he was going to have to bend a little for you to meet his cheek.

After the deal had been made you both got on with your tasks. You put your cute pink frilly apron on and began making dough for the pies you were going to make today. As you began mixing and beating you drowned the noise out of Ari throwing the wood into the oven where the fire hissed and ate it up grateful for the fuel.

As you were about to start kneeding the dough you felt two strong hands take place on your waist and pull towards a hard front. Your pert ass was against a bulge yet you blissfully ignored it and carried on kneeding. Ari let out a delightful hum imagining you in his cabin where you would make him dinner after his hard day at work and he would hold just as he is now.

The feeling of domestic bliss washed over him and he began picturing you as his perfect wife, making him his pies and seeing you baking cookies for your children in the future. God he was rock hard over you being his. And he made it known by grinding against you letting out a breath groan. Yet you were still humming so caught up in your baking until his large hand grabbed your chin and forced you to look up at him.

"I think it's time for my kiss angel."

You smiled bashfully and stood on your tippy toes, your ass brushing against his huge bulge before you pressed your glossy full lips to his bearded cheek and smiled. Yet that smile was quickly wiped from your face when he let out a tutting noise.

"No angel, I didn't mean that kinda kiss, I meant this kinda kiss."

Before you could even ask what he meant, he lips were on yours, his broad frame was draped over you. He kept your lips together before his hunger became more. He poked his tongue out and stroked your bottom lip to which you opened your mouth for Ari's tongue to explore. You were almost out of breath so you pulled away, a strong of salvia connected you both and you couldn't help the pathetic whimper that left you mouth.

And that was all it took for Ari to snap. He wasn't just hungry anymore no, he was a man starved for you. And he was tired of waiting in his lonely cabin for you to join him. So he quickly unbuckled his belt and pulled his fly down and pulled his pants down so they hung at his knees and then he brought his boxers down.

The tip of his cock was leaking precum and you could feel it on your inner thigh making you wetter. He just couldn't wait any longer. He pulled your panties down and bent you over the counter. Destroying your hard work but before you could utter a single complaint, you felt the fat tip of his cock stroking your pussy. All before he pushed all the way in and wrapped his big hand around your mouth to silence your squeal of pain from how big he really was.

He let out a gutteral moan over how tight you were, you felt like heaven on his cock. You wrapped around him so perfectly, further solidifying the fact that you were gonna be his little wife. He pulled out a little before pushing back in, thrusting against your tight pussy and he couldn't help the filth spewing from his mouth at the feeling of your cunt on his cock.

"Fucking perfect baby. This little cunt is fucking perfect. You were saving it for me huh? Saving it for the big nasty man in the forest? Yeah? Well now he's fucking here and God I'm gonna fucking ruin your little baby pussy. Fuck what's left in your head out. Like a good fucking husband."

All the while his thrusts were speeding up and his hands had moved so that he could here you let out every gasp and whine over his cock pounding your pussy. His left hand was now under your shirt playing with your nipples all while he condemned you and called you a whore for not wearing a bra. And his other hand was down where the two of you were connected. He was playing with your little clit, pushing you further and further to cumming on his cock.

"You gonna be a good girl and coat daddy's cock? I know you will because you've been waiting for today. Fucking little slut knew I'd bury my cock in this tight little fuckin pussy till you could feel my balls against your needy cunt."

At his words your eyes rolled because you truly could feel his balls bouncing against you with every thrust he did, the sounds of his heavy balls hitting your wet little pussy was driving you further into sin and you arched your back begging him for more without even knowing.

"Fucking good little whore for daddy. Didn't even wear a bra, you knew I was coming for you didn't ya'. Gonna fucking cum for you baby, you're gonna be fucking filled."

With his promise of breeding you, your mind turned off and you let go. Pleasure wrapped around you and you felt it pulse all the way down to your cunt before you coated Ari's cock with your sweet cum. You tightened around him, making him let out a breath groan before his thrusts stuttered and he pushed himself deep inside you so that you could feel him against your cervix before he let his cum spill into you with his shallow thrusts.

You stayed bent over that counter with Ari covering you for a few minutes, catching your breath and trying to gather whatever thoughts you had left. You could hear Ari though it felt like he was far away. Words of you being his good little wife floated in the air and after a few minutes you realised not only had Ari pulled his cock from you, but he had also pulled your panties up and had gotten you a drink of water which you were gulping.

When you blinked you looked up at him, and he looked down at you before he let out a sigh and pulled you against his huge body into a hug.

"I'm sorry baby but it's time. You're gonna be my little wife and I know you're confused but trust me you'll love the life I can gift you. You just need to be mine and love me. Have our children and love the life I give you. I know it's a lot angel but think of us like Hades and Persephone. It's so romantic right angel? I knew I loved you the second I saw you."

All those words floated around your head but Hades and Persephone stuck. You adored that story, merely for the very fact that he fell in love with her at first sight yet you never got further than that as someone would always interrupt your reading, so you were clueless to the fact he kidnapped her and made her his wife. You're eyes gleamed over the romantic aspect, of how he would charm you. You let out a small smile at the fantasy and Ari took it hastily as a good sign.

"Yeah baby I thought you'd love that. I'm gonna pick you up after work okay baby, I'll take you home."

After that was said he leaned down and gave you a soft long kiss, to which you put your small hands on his hairy cheeks and stroked. So happy to have love that truly was from fairytales and myth. When he pulled away he leaned his forehead against yours and softly whispered your name along with a gentle

"I'll be waiting for you angel. I love you my beautiful little wife."

You smiled and he smiled back before he kissed your forehead and slowly began to leave the bakery never once taking his eyes off you until you were out of his line of sight. You were absolutely starstruck over the man. So starstruck that you forgot about his cum buried deep inside you and the fact he fucked you so hard on the counter minutes ago.

Your shift had finished and the thought of Ari picking you up had dissipated quickly as you were going to go berry picking for the pies you were to bake later that week. As you began down the path to the forest where you hand picked the berries you forgot about everything that had happened and hummed sweetly.

All the while Ari pulled up in his Chevy and was expecting you to run out to him and hug him. Yet there was nothing. Ari held back his feeling of doubt and decided that maybe you were still inside baking and forgot time. Yet there was only the old woman there Margaret and she was about to close the bakery. Ari bit his tongue and swallowed his pride before approaching the old woman.

"Where's my angel? I thought she was closing"

To which the old woman replied with a look of confusion and Ari sighed and said your name. The woman told Ari that you had gone berry picking, far too scared to disobey him as he was practically the ruler of this town. Ari turned and slapped the roof of his car in anger. Ofcourse you'd forget, he'd make sure you didn't ever again. He grabbed his rag and began driving down the forest lanes to where he could easily retrieve you.

You were so caught up in your humming and picking of the berries that you didn't hear any twigs snap behind you, and you didn't notice the large shadow that was casted behind you. All you knew is that one moment you found the perfect cluster of berries and the next a rag was placed over your mouth making the world go black.

When you awoke, you were in a large bed. It was warm and cozy and white sheets protected you, as well as a big beefy arm. You turned and saw Ari. Yet he looked a lot softer than ever. His hair was messy and his eyes was half open and a sleepy smile was painted on his face.

His arm pulled you against him, dragging you across the bed so that he could hold you against his chest. You smiled at him and brushed hair out of his face before panic seized you and he held you tighter.

"What's wrong little wife talk to me."

"I was- there was a rag on my mouth and the world went black and-"

Ari had prepared for this, he knew you were dumb but you weren't dumb enough to forget getting kidnapped which is why he had his story ready to protect you from the truth that he stole you from you world.

"Oh my pretty baby I know, I was in the forest doing my work and I heard you squeak and there was a man trying to take you, but you know I'd never let him. I scared him off baby, I saved you."

You stared at him and slowly smiled, you leaned up to softly kiss his lips to which he eagerly returned. You pulled back and caressed his cheek staring into his beautiful blue eyes which shined with love. You giggled quietly to which he raised a brow and you responded;

"You really did become my knight! You saved me."

"Ofcourse princess, I'd never let anyone take you."

You smiled and snuggled into him slowly drifting off to your fantasy land while Ari spoke softly to you,

"My good little wife. Gonna take such good care of you baby. And you're gonna take care of our babies. My little Persephone hmm? Don't worry I won't let you go wander around every 8 months. No, you'll be mine, forever."

[ivystoryweaver]

Deeper - Orestes

Orestes + Edgeplay/love bites/teratophilia

Kinktober Masterlist || Misc. Masterlist || Main Masterlist

"...his lips were the first of many beautiful pieces of his body and soul you sought to devour."

Notes: Reader is El Naddaha (If you’re not familiar, it’s kind of like a Nile River Siren/Djinn). I’m definitely no expert, but I am aware that this legend/myth came long after Orestes’ time. This is just for fun! Edgeplay-ish, reader is not human, p in v, oral -f. rec., danger, orgasm denial

Word Count: 1.8k

The first time you saw him, he stood as regal as a statue, with the beauty of a god. You were familiar with the gods - he wasn’t one, but they must have chiseled him from something precious. The cut of his jaw alone would make the most brilliant sculptor envious.

Wild wind whipped through inky curls as the setting sun glistened, dancing over his bronzed skin. The smooth tenor of his voice danced across the water as he shared a laugh with his companion.

He turned to gaze out over the River Nile, strong arms gripping the side of the boat. With eyes deep and brown as basin mud and a bright, self-assured smile, you wondered who was luring whom.

The sun finally set and Orestes disembarked, dismissing his council so he could take an evening stroll along the river’s shore.

Seizing your opportunity, you emerged from the water, eyes fixed on your prey. A song, intoxicating and wistful bellowed alluringly from your throat. You sang a haunting melody, your voice turning and flowing like the waters of the Nile itself.

You watched him pause, turning his head, listening to the song of his doom. “Hello?”

Your song continued, note after note spinning in the air, weaving your spell to ensnare this beautiful mortal. His eyes drifted closed as he leaned in to the allure, muscled body swaying gently to the tune.

Gliding toward him, you concluded your song, waiting patiently as he opened his eyes.

His breath hitched as he beheld you. “You frightened me.”

“Surely not the mighty Orestes.” Even words spoken gripped his soul and sent a mildly terrifying thrill through his body.

Wetting plush lips, his gaze raked over the shimmering, white dress draped over your beautiful, nearly glowing skin. Raven hair flowed down over both shoulders, a midnight waterfall cascading to your thighs. Your eyes were bottomless wells, deep, dark and unknowable.

“I’m afraid I do not know your name.” Boldly easing forward, he extended his hand. “I very much wish to.”

You smiled charmingly, offering your hand and your name in return.

Lifting your fingers to his lips, he laid a gentle kiss there, lingering as if your very touch intoxicated him.

“Do you walk here often?” You asked him sweetly, holding onto his hand as you slipped into the slight space separating your bodies.

“I do, but I’ve never seen you here. In fact, I’ve never seen anyone so beautiful in all my days.”

Tangling your fingers with his, you pressed your breasts against his chest. “But I’ve seen you. I’ve been waiting for you, Orestes.”

“For me?” He choked, shuddering breath ghosting your lips.

“Only for you.” Brushing your lips over his, you swallowed his gasp of surprise at a young lady’s boldness. But you were no lady. And his lips were the first of many beautiful pieces of his body and soul you sought to devour.

Nibbling down the side of his neck, you reveled in his sigh as you littered his salty skin with wet sucks dark enough to mark but not wound.

Strong hands gripped your hips, intent on manipulating your body, but you were too quick.

Nimble fingers flicked aside linen garments, until you could feel the hot, fleshy weight of him in your palm. Pushing your thumb over his leaking tip, you, twisted your wrist, working up and down his length while sucking wet marks all over his neck and collarbone.

His beautiful gasps and moans were your drug. Cheeks flushed, his breath caught, full lips parted and panting as you slid your hand over and over his shaft. Broad hips stuttered as he neared his pleasure, but you did not let him come, instead withdrawing your heated touch.

A pathetic beg chased after your hand - the appeal of it as powerful as the songs you spun on strings of air.

"Undress for me," you commanded.

His obedience was instant and eager. The exposure and neediness brimming in his earthen eyes, firing the pulse in his corded neck, kept his thick, long cock erect as you pulled your shimmering dress free of your shoulders, allowing it to spill down over your breasts. It pooled at the swell of your hips long enough for him to lose his breath, before cascading to the ground below.

Surging forward, he dropped to his knees, hastily pressing a kiss to your mound before gazing up into your haunting, limitless orbs.

"Allow me to taste you - to treasure you as the goddess you must be."

This pleased you.

You granted him the illusion of control as he laid your naked body down on the muddy bank and tasted the nectar of your core.

Few men were so bold - at least not in any kind of enticing way. But his tongue was an offering, lavishing worship, gliding through your wet folds.

Countless nights passed since you'd felt this good with a mortal. As he sank his tongue deep inside you, pushing at your human-like anatomy with his prominent nose, you realized you desired to come in his mouth.

Your hips eagerly rose to meet the thrust and wet pulse of his tongue. Threading fingers through his locks, you pushed his face hard against your cunt, fucking yourself with more delight than you remembered feeling in many a mortal lifetime.

Your back arched in rapture as you gushed all over his tongue and lips and chin, even down onto his neck.

Releasing him, you heard him desperately gasp for air, choking, "I...can't breathe..." Just the thought of this beautiful mortal drowning and suffocating in your core left you yearning for me.

Soaked and blissed out, you rolled on top of him and sank down on his length, the desperate little noises pouring out of him your new addiction. You moaned in satisfaction as he stretched and filled you. For a mere mortal, he fucked like a god. You'd lain with plenty enough to know.

Rolling your hips slow and deep, you gripped his chin, forcing him to peer into your eyes. Moonlight kissed your naked skin as you vigorously rode him - your bodies wet with mud and slick.

He incoherently mumbled how beautiful you were, how good you felt, how you must be something out of a dream.

The stretch of him inside you became so delicious, a second, harder orgasm washed over you, sending your back arching wildly and your cunt fluttering and gripping the hard, heavy cock buried so deep up in you.

Orestes' jaw fell open, his sculpted yet soft body tense and ready to burst like ripe fruit, but you abruptly pulled yourself off him, so quickly and violently that he sobbed out a plea, tears falling as you stopped him cold once again.

You granted him the explanation that no man had ever come inside you and no man ever would.

“I will,” he told you with fierce determination.

“Only if you follow me.” You coyly wet your lips.

Practically crawling toward you, half covered in mud - the rest in sweat and your slick - he offered, “Anywhere. I will do anything.”

You waded into the cool and refreshing water - your home - your domain. Orestes willingly and desperately followed, clinging to you as you led him close to his doom.

His lips fused with yours, hands reaching to hoist your thighs around the broadness of his hips. Your legs encircled his waist, and his hands roamed the curves of your body as he pushed his way deep inside you again.

Your powers calmed the water and infused it with the faintest glow so you could see your naked bodies bobbing and fucking, twisting and writhing.

He felt so good, you almost hated to end his life. Almost.

But there would be others you could lure to their doom, as there always had been.

Hungry hands pulled at your shoulders, pressing your lower back, lifting your thigh. He manipulated your body and fucked you harder and harder, with deep, agonizingly powerful thrusts.

"You'll take all of me now," he declared.

But you would not.

He ached with the need to come, to release, to not be denied.

"Soon, Orestes. You have delighted me more than any other man. Come with me once more and I'll let you plant your seed deep in my womb."

"Promise me," he whimpered, then kissed you fiercely. "Swear that I may come inside you."

"I swear it shall be the pinnacle of your lifetime."

You instructed him to breathe deeply before pulling him under, down further than humans normally swam. And deeper still.

You could tell when he jerked against you, desperate for air. You kept going, kicking your powerful legs down to the bottom of the river, where cold darkness awaited.

Just when he really started to panic, you breathed life saving breath into his mouth and lungs while creating a bubble under the water, holding it at bay to create a space for him to breathe.

Terrified, he wanted to swim away, but you sang a couple of melodious lines to soothe him as you touched his naked body again.

He was easily taken back under your spell and responded to your touch, cock stirred to desperate yearning, despite the river's cold depths.

You spoke, and somehow, he could hear you, asking him if he would like to come.

He nodded dumbly, body suspended in your home, drunk on worship of your touch, your voice.

How many had you lured to this depth?

He was special though.

"Orestes, answer me this: would you like to come inside me, even if I allow these waters to take all the air from your lungs?"

You craved his ultimate devotion, though you'd never asked a mortal his wishes before this night.

He nodded stupidly, a wet mess of want and twisted desire. A victorious pulse fluttered in your cunt as you guided his cock inside you, your bodies twisting into a delicious rhythm together - a beautiful tempo to match the enticing spell of your melodies.

You let him have his way. He gripped your hips and fucked you furiously, so desperate to finally come, to claim you. You traced over all the dark bites you left on his perfect, bronzed skin, visible only to your eyes at this depth.

As he erupted inside you, he kissed you wildly, filling you hot and deep, crying out in relief and thanking you profusely.

Satisfied and victorious, you let the water crash back over the two of you, keeping him inside you, gripping him tight with your cunt as he gulped in water, choking and struggling until he breathed his last.

Witnessing the life fade away from his sparkling eyes sent power and possession surging through you. The thrill of your victory hurled you to orgasm once more, squeezing the remaining life out of his cock.

Your lifeless conquest floated in front of you, and you thought, for a moment, that the cold, dark depths, perhaps, did not suit him.

Orestes woke on the banks of the Nile, soaked, naked and coughing, gasping for air. He should have known that you were a vicious creature and not a beautiful woman.

But the next night, your song lured him again.

Kinktober Masterlist || Misc. Masterlist || Main Masterlist

[flippinpancakes64]

I’D LOVEEEE if you could do a cullens x indian s/o ? there’s NOTHING with Indian x Twilight so i’d super appreciate it ! you don’t have to be super educated about the indian culture just mentioning the outfits and food are enough ! TYSM ! also its fine if u can’t do it . I loveee ur work and I ADORE the fact that you don’t like angst like LETS BE HAPPY LOL !

The Cullens with an Indian! SO

I’ve mentioned it before but I am a white woman and I do not know like anything so sorry if this is completely wrong 🙏

And I’m so glad that someone else loves fluff!!! Like just let me be happy if I wanted to be sad I’d go talk to my dad or smthn fr

Thank you for requesting and I hope you enjoy!

Edward:

This man has over 10 degrees

He loves to learn

So he is more than willing and happy to sit down and learn about your culture

He asks so many questions

The last thing he wants is to assume something to be true and then embarrass himself when it’s not

So yes he will ask about literally every single little thing

Does his best to respect your culture as well

He wants to learn about all of your folk tales

He wants to listen to all of the music

Hell, he’ll even fly you out to India if you want to go

And he doesn’t take shit from anyone

If anyone says anything that could be even remotely perceived as racist, he is sending them the hardest glare ever

Also there’s a pretty good chance that he can speak Hindi so at least he’ll impress your family

Alice:

She LOVES your culture

She appreciates fashion of all kinds

But I feel like she would love the intricate designs and patterns of sarees and henna especially

Invite her to a wedding please please please

She doesn’t care whose it is

She just wants to go and admire all of the outfits

She is also very open to learning anything you want to teach her

You have a recipe that has been passed down in your family for generations? She’s ready to learn it

Also your parents definitely love her

How could they not tbh

If you wear henna a lot, look no further than your personal artist

She just has so much love and respect for your culture

And you of course

Jasper:

He’s pretty inexperienced

If you asked him what language is commonly spoken in India he would say Indian

But once he meets you and starts to get more comfortable around you, he does his own research

He doesn’t want to burden you with making you explain everything to him

He’s so worried about screwing something up that he just… doesn’t do anything

Like if he reads something about there being a specific holiday, he doesn’t do anything for it

He just gets in his head about what if you don’t celebrate that, what if he does the wrong thing, what if it’s not a holiday at all

You’re gonna need to help him out a little

Or else he’s just gonna stay stewing in his own self doubt for forever

But he’s got the spirit

Rosalie:

She knows next to nothing about basically every culture that’s not American

Not because she doesn’t want to learn

But because it’s just never been a relevant thing for her

Like no she has no idea about the cultural practices in India because she’s never had to go there or been close to anyone from there

But now you’re here, she loves you, and she wants to learn

She finds that she absolutely loves the clothing styles

Especially at weddings

I mean, she already loves extravagant weddings

So this is right up her alley

She’s a little sad to find out the fact that henna doesn’t do anything to her skin

So she just makes do by doing it on yours ❤️

Emmett:

Ok this is going to sound bad but stick with me

He doesn’t particularly care about your culture

Not in a mean way of like “you want me to celebrate what with you? No not doing it”

But in a way of it’s not what’s most important to him

You as a person is more important to him than your cultural background

That doesn’t mean he isn’t willing to learn

It just means he’s more likely to remember your birthday than a holiday

But again, he is more than willing to learn anything you want to teach him

He will sit down and listen to anything you want to say

And he will remember it perfectly

But he doesn’t go out of his way to seek out the knowledge

But he is the best when it comes to people being racist

He can throw a punch with the force of a semi truck and he’s not afraid to do it

Esme:

We know that she does her homework when it comes to meeting new people

She made Italian food for Bella because she was 90% sure she was Italian

I feel like she carries that same energy

She does her best to cook food or put on movies that she thinks you’ll like

But overall food is definitely her favorite

She loves to cook, it’s one of her favorite hobbies

But she doesn’t have anyone to cook for

So you best believe she is always making something for you to eat

And she does her best to learn traditional dishes and how to make them

Carlisle:

He has traveled all over the world and experienced many cultures

He knows all about the history and culture of your country

So you don’t really need to explain anything to him

He’s just respectful like that

King

He will go with you to all of your parties or family get-togethers

He will help you make any dish at all

And he will fly you anywhere in the world or sightsee any country you want

But your culture isn’t the thing he notices most about you

He just loves you

Vampire! Bella:

She’s super curious

She has been three (3) places in her whole life

Forks, Arizona, and Italy for all of a day

So she knows actually nothing about your culture

Sure she knows what she learned in school, but honestly that’s not a lot

She wants to know everything that you’re willing to tell her

What holidays you celebrate, your favorite foods, the history of your family

And she will definitely try her best for you

You might have to be the one to drape her saree

[sirgogington]

My Word Vomit Response on the Shelby Situation

Main Situation: Last week Wilbur Soot from Lovejoy was accused of having been abusive towards his ex girlfriend Shelby. Shelby is a live streamer and last week she did a livestream about the signs of knowing if you are in an abusive relationship. She never stated his name, but from details given people started assuming it was about Wilbur Soot. A few days later Wilbur confirmed that it was him in an apology tweet on his Twitter account. The abuse had to do with painful biting, and manipulation. 

    I want to start off by saying I do believe Shelby's story. I don't think Wilbur is innocent, but I do believe this situation isn't as black and white as people are claiming it to be. 

    Former fans after hearing the story started unfollowing Wilbur and Lovejoy and saying what a terrible man that Wilbur is, and vowing to never listen to or view any of his content ever again. He's not just a terrible man, he has to be evil too. I may be optimistic but I do think most people can change for the better if they truly want to. There are exceptions, but I truly believe that Wilbur can. The internet wants to just label him as evil and not give him any room to do that. The new thing is "guilty until proven innocent" and that's super harmful as I will go into in a different post. The way people are spreading hate in a us/them mentality is not a mature way of viewing/handling this situation and does more harm than good. Especially when it comes to death threats and doxing which have been received by both sides.

   Wilbur is someone who had a hard upbringing, and has brought up at different times his struggles with mental health. On screen or on stage you would never know this about him, because he has this mask of being confident, well spoken, and joyful. Through these details Wilbur has shared we know that touring took a lot out of him mentally and put him in a bad place, but that he was seeking therapy and is probably currently still seeing a therapist to try and get better. He's shared in the past that when he first blew up on the internet he used alcohol to cope because of how overwhelming it was that so many people were consuming his content. From Shelby's stream we also learned that his living space was dirty and unhygienic and that he would make excuses for it. The details for me paint the picture of a guy struggling badly with mental illness and having a hard time caring for himself and his home. Someone who can hardly take care of themselves should not have been in a relationship. This puts a lot on the other person.  It's different if he were stable and then then his mental health crashed in the middle of a longer relationship, but not if your too mentally ill to begin with. I do deeply feel sorry that Shelby had to experience that, as it truly shouldn't have happened. 

   I went to school for psychology and know quite a bit about different types of mental illnesses. I am by no means diagnosing Wilbur, but I do think he shows signs of someone with Boderline Personality Disorder. Borderline Personality Disorder is an emotional disregulation disorder characterized by unstable mood, behavior, and relationships. People with BPD self sabotage and will frequently end up pushing people away because they don't think they're good enough for them. (In this case maybe he wanted to act so bad so she would leave him, which is very unhealthy). People with BPD also go through depressive episodes and can act impulsively. Without therapy it is extremely hard to cope with this condition but with therapy you can make great strides in changing. I think like most mental illnesses you are aware of the fact you don't like the way you're acting you just have a hard time controlling it. For instance for me growing up with anxiety I knew most of my fears were completely irrational but that didn't stop them from overtaking my life and still feeling anxious. Wilbur has written some really deep lyrics on his new solo album Mammalian Sighing Reflex and I feel like it reflects that he doesn't like the way he is and feels guilty about those he's harmed through it. Maybe I'm giving this man too much credit, but like I said I do believe most people are capable of changing for the better. 

   Shelby stated she did the livestream as a way to help protect other victims of domestic violence and Wilbur Soot himself. He might still be dangerous to the public, it's really hard to know. I know after my own situation with being manipulated I was worried about the guy going after other younger women like he had with me. I didn't want anyone else have to be in that situation so I understand where Shelby is coming from. I also know that if the guy in my life had ever posted an apology, no matter how good it was, that I still wouldn't believe him and have a hard time forgiving him. Bold take but I think his apology was at least decent. Could it have been better, yeah, but could it have been a lot worse, also yes. In his apology he admits to being the person Shelby was talking about. He states that her feelings are valid, and that he wants people to hold him to higher accountability, and that he was sorry for any hurt he caused. Maybe he isnt, but it's hard to know. Wilbur stated in a livestream from last October 2023 that he was going to therapy the next day, because of this we can assume that Wilbur has been going to therapy at minimum since October. In that same livestream he states that he showers once a day when he's in his "big sad", and that he has rented places all over Brighton. He is at least hygienic in this regard, maybe moreso than he was before. It could be a red flag that Wilbur has lived all over Brighton due to possible evictions whether that be negligence or noise complaints from doing livestreams.

   We'll never know how other content creators truly feel about him except for the ones that made it obvious. Of course most content creators are going to jump on the bandwagon and agree that he's an evil man. If they don't then they'll lose their platform because of all the hate they'd get. I do believe some content creators will still hang out with Wilbur secretly or still even remain his friend. But we'll never know. 

   For the people who are posting different video evidences of Wilbur supposedly showing signs of being abusive in the past this is what is called confirmation bias. If you believe someone is abusive suddenly you can find details in the littlest things to confirm your thought process. A lot of the clips I've been seeing have been of normal everyday behavior or confirmed bits. I've seen people say that Wilbur must have bit down really hard to leave bruises. In some cases people bruise more easily than others. I know I have random bruises on my body from nothing. We can tell that what Wilbur did however was pretty painful due to have to use a safe word. Getting bitten usually hurts. I've been bitten by a 5 year old at work and can't imagine how it would feel to be bitten by a grown man who intentionally bit down hard.

This could be confirmation bias as well, but when looking at the lyrics in Mammalian Sighing Reflex and at the album art it seems to tell the story of a man (Wilbur) who really messed up in a relationship and is feeling the pain from that, and has a lot of regret due to knowing he was the cause of her pain. He poured so much of himself into the album it's like he's bleeding out in front of the audience with the amount of vulnerability.

Analyzing lyrics because why not, using lyrics from "Mammalian Sighing Reflex"

"I get so drunk I can barely see." If this album is related to his relationship with Shelby, which I think it probably is, then maybe he tried to cope with the relationship failing by using alcohol, or sabotaged the relationship through drinking.

"A lot of friends have left my life, escaping my tractor beam of woe" Having a mental illness can make it hard to maintain friendships. This could be because it makes you so self-focused on your problems, or that people get tired of hearing about your problems. If you constantly talk about how sad you are, some people are going to have a hard time dealing with that, or get burnt out from having to keep on cheering you up.

"Fuck my life, you cared when I was sick, no one ever gave a shit.....you fought this war one-sided and asked me what am I doing this for." These lyrics seem to speak about how in a past relationship (probably meaning with Shelby), that she cared that he was mentally ill/in a low point and wanted to help him get better. The fight to help him get better was one-sided due to Wilbur not helping to get himself better. If he would have helped her then they "could of stitched my mind together."

"Never been the one for romance, never thought that I'd get married. Never been the kind to give a shared life a second glance, selfish prose." In Shelby's livestream she talked about how her and Wilbur talked about the possibility of getting married and having kids until he backtracked and said that he wasn't that way and changed his mind.

The song "I Don't Think It Will Ever End" is how his mind seems to work in cycles. He'll be sad, because he feels sad he hides away for a bit, but then he feels silly for hiding himself so he forces himself to interact with people. But then when forcing himself to interact again he feels sad, which he says is not a good feeling when you're supposedly in a good phase. He says as self-sabotage he gets silly. Wilbur is known for telling a lot of jokes, and maybe this is a way he masks his true feelings. Also for Mammalian Sighing Reflex it says the songs were written by William Gold (his legal name) and performed by Wilbur Soot (his stage name). Wilbur is who the internet/fans see him as and William Gold is who he really is. Meaning the way we see him online is the extroverted, charismatic, likeable guy we know him as whereas William Gold is introverted, self-sabotaging, nerdy, and a deep thinker.

     The internet gives us way too much information. We're constantly bombarded with more and more information. Before the internet and even in the earlier internet days you did not have this. People were not being as closely viewed and known as they are now. You have to be careful about every little thing you say, because God forbid you say the wrong thing and get canceled. It didn't used to be this way. The only reason you'd ever know anything bad about a celebrity is if they were in the news. I think most of the media we consume whether TV shows, movies, etc. have the potential to have us supporting "bad people". It would be overwhelming to look up every single person we had ever consumed media from and sift through what are lies and what are not about each actor, singer, etc. I get that people don't want to give a platform to people doing bad things, but it's almost impossible to know and to remove every single bad person from the content you consume.  Being a celebrity in general is hard. It's easy to become addicted to drugs, and experience toxicity especially celebrities that live in Los Angeles. Most become people they regret, but some change for the better too. I'm not saying people who do serious crimes should get out of jail because they can become better people. People in jail should remain in jail for serious crimes. Time will tell what becomes of him. If more about him is released or if he's able to actually make strides in his health like he said he would. We will wait and see. I really hope he can heal and get better. Even the most unlikely ones can change their lives. You can both support Shubble and hope that Wilbur gets better.

[jerzwriter]

Our fandom is made up of 30 people, half of whom have the other half blocked, so I'm an idiot for even addressing this. But since this continues to be posted publicly, I'm going to set my record straight—MY RECORD. I'm not speaking for anyone else, and no one else can speak for me. None of us are mind readers, no matter how much some seem to believe they are.

Back in April, a creator posted commissions of Bryce Lahela and Keiki Lahela in which the two AAPI characters were whitewashed. I interacted with this post in two ways: I ❤️-ed and commented on it from my personal blog. Also, I was the mod of CFWC at the time and I reblogged it there as part of the Choices Fics/Art of the Week. When I realized what I had done, I posted an apology here without solicitation.

I was angry at myself for my involvement and distressed that my actions caused pain to others. I know whitewashing is wrong. It is racist. I've spoken out about it in the past. Still, I interacted. But I didn't delete my comments to try to hide my involvement as some did. See, when I'm wrong, I say I'm wrong. I apologize and will make amends when it's the appropriate thing to do. So, criticism and corrections are never a problem for me. In fact, they're welcomed because it allows for reflection and improvement.

I'm sharing information not as an excuse but solely for context. See, the world isn't as black and white (no pun intended) as some like to believe it is.

I interacted with that post at around 1:00 AM after being awake for over 18 hours after working a long day, tending to real-life responsibilities, and seeing real-life friends (something I suggest each of you attain.) I was exhausted and should have gone to sleep. Instead, I logged on to reblog and do my "CFWC-work". Something I did every day (for free...) when I was still the CFWC mod.

When I was reblogging, I noticed it was the OP's birthday post (it was mentioned in bold in the header). I interacted from my personal to be kind, and I reblogged to CFWC as I did with all submissions. Did I really "look" at the art? No, I did not. I was exhausted and working on auto-pilot. I'm sure you've all done it - ever end up home and not remember the walk/drive there? I'm sure you have.

Now, I'm sure our fandom mind readers will scream, "WELL, YOU SHOULD HAVE!" and "HOW COULD YOU NOT HAVE!" And have at it. In fact, that's exactly what I said to myself ... days after ... when I happened to see a post calling it out (days after THAT post was originally shared). I went back to look at the OP again, and that was the first time I truly looked at the art, and I was like, "Dude, what the fuck?" <- That was directed at me for not seeing it before because it was so obvious, and I was super upset over it.

I took action and accountability right away. I deleted the reblog from CFWC and took it off the F/AotW List. I removed my comments from the OP and really reflected. I discussed it privately with the OP - you know —like an adult. Then, I issued a public apology, and, most importantly, I learned from it.

It was a reminder to check my white privilege. Did I not see it instantly because I was exhausted and not paying attention, or was it because I am so used to seeing through the lens of privilege that I overlooked it? Truth is, it was a little of both. So now I know to be more cognizant and do better going forward. It was a reminder that no matter how much you think you've learned, there is always more to learn. Always.

It was also a reminder to be more conscious of the content I interact with. I have always tried to interact with as many creations/posts as I could so people felt appreciated. Most people in our fandom are not very supportive. They will interact with one or two of their friends at most. I know how much people put into their little blorbos, and I won't apologize for trying to make people feel appreciated. But no more. Now, I'm interacting much less and only when I have the chance/time to TRULY look everything over. (To those of you who ❤️ something to go back and look at it later, you may want to reconsider that, too.)

I also posted this, and it was especially offensive to some - though for the life of me - I'll never understand why. It's merely saying stop with the vaguing, stop with the hate anons, just talk constructively. It was not directed solely at this event - but every stupid fucking bit of drama I've seen. Everyone is so quick to assume the worst in everyone. Things would be so much better, and so much needless drama could be avoided if people communicated like the grown-ups they profess to be.

Just be a decent human being, and spare me the "it's not my job" bullshit. Because if you're screaming about it publicly, you've already made it your job. You're just not doing the job very well.

I'm not perfect. I have, do, and will make mistakes - just like every single one of you reading this will - but I'm committed to treating people fairly and learning when I make mistakes, and I will offer grace when others make mistakes and show contrition because I know no one's house is clean.

I ran CFWC for years and tried to make it as inclusive as possible and encouraged diversity. A mistake was made, and it was immediately corrected. That does not make a blog racist, and it's narrow-minded and ignorant to suggest it is. But as is often the case in this fandom, those who criticize the most are those who tend to offer the least. Always have a problem with the way things are done, but god damned if they'll do anything to benefit the fandom as a whole.

I hate seeing all the problems and division this has caused. I hate that three people have come to me and told me that they were told to "choose a side." That they want to interact with me publicly but are afraid to for fear of attack. I'm telling you right now, no one will ever hear that from me. I will never tell anyone to block anyone. In fact, I only block people I consider unsafe or who block me - because you don't get to have it both ways. In real life, if a friend tells me I have to choose between them and another friend? I will ALWAYS choose the friend who did not ask me to choose because the one who did already showed me who they are. Make your own choices, but if you feel you can only interact with me privately, I'd rather you block me and move on. I don't need "friends" like that.

It was very hurtful that someone I considered a friend didn't think enough of me to come to me privately and assumed the worst of me without so much as a word. A conversation could have done wonders. But you know what that tells me? The "friendship" wasn't as much of a friendship as I had believed. It happens, and it stung for a bit, but that's done. After all, we never lose true friends.

I totally broke my rule of not explaining myself to those who were committed to misunderstanding me, but I just had enough. Besides, I don't give a damn about them - consider it a gift to my haters. Have at it - tear it all apart - if that's what you live for and have nothing better to do - go for it. I honestly feel sad for you. I wrote this for me - to put my truth out there. And I wrote it for those who are afraid to say these things themselves, and trust, they are out there. It's really, really, really pathetic that a fandom about stupid pixelated people devolves into this.

[heart-of-the-morningstar]

Brand New One Shot - First Preview

It’s time for a new one shot! I promise I will finish “Dress Up” in the very near future but I wanted to get a jumpstart on this! No active warnings for this preview, but there is a very very subtle hint to something naughty if you squint lol

You remember first meeting the King of Hell on the day you checked yourself into the Hazbin Hotel. And you remember thinking that Lucifer looked nothing like you had pictured. Of course he was beautiful, that wasn’t shocking, but he was so…unimposing. Not only that, he was kind, albeit a bit dorky as well. Not that it was off putting to you, it was endearing if anything!

Although, you hadn’t spoken to him all that much since the time you’d moved in. Lucifer seemed so nonchalant and relaxed with everyone else in the hotel, save for Alastor, who you noticed always managed to get under the fallen angel’s skin one way or another. Even you knew the radio demon was playing with fire; probably wasn’t the smartest idea to piss off the most powerful being in Hell. Regardless, how he acted around you was a little odd to say the least. It seemed like Lucifer was always trying to avoid you for some unknown reason. Did he not like you?

When you had first spoken to him all those month ago, you could tell he was tense. He rambled, a lot. And he somehow managed to fumble every other word that left his mouth. He quickly left after your initial meet, and ever since then it was nearly impossible to get in more than five words at a time. He had an impossibly perfect disappearing act, what with his portaging abilities. One time you greeted him from across the lobby and his only response was “O-Oh! H-Hey you! Uhh, I just, umm…welp, gotta run!” and took off before you could even say goodbye. Truly bizarre.

You eventually went to Charlie, telling her that her dad was seemingly very distant towards you. “Oh, don’t worry about that!” Charlie explained. “He’s a pretty busy guy, so he’s usually popping in and out of here pretty frequently. And he’s told me on multiple occasions that he’s glad you joined the hotel! He can come off as a bit scatterbrained, but rest assured he’s more than happy to have you here! And so am I!”

You smiled and thanked her. From the few months that you’ve known her, Charlie was never one to lie, so you decided to take her words at face value. For now, at least. For some reason, you still couldn’t shake the feeling that something was up with Lucifer. You needed to find out.

A few nights had passed and you found yourself wandering through the lobby. It was late, way later than you should be awake. Even Husk was asleep, the bar sat devoid of any life. It was difficult to sleep most night, you were still grappling with the fact that you were, in fact, in Hell. You thought you were a decent person in life. Never religious but you tried your best to while you were alive. But that didn’t seem to matter. Perhaps you should have attended church with your family more often, or donated to more charities, or not cut that one person off at that traffic light. Laying awake in your bed wasn’t helping these thoughts, but getting up and walking around usually helped just a tad.

You glanced over to the fire place, noticing the flames dancing against the walls. That was strange, considering no one ever used the fire place, or at least not that you’ve seen. But then you noticed one of the large chairs in front of it wasn’t empty. A white sleeve laid across the arm rest. You walked over out of pure curiosity, just to see who was awake at this ungodly hour like you. You craned your neck to see Lucifer sitting there frozen, his head down and eyes closed with his free hand pinching the bridge of his nose. He looked troubled. Before you could speak up, you heard him mumble under his breath.

“What the hell am I going to do…”

Worried, you outstretched your hand, but stopped short of touching his arm. “Sir?”

Lucifer’s eyes shot open instantly, turning his head to see you towering over him. He leapt from his chair completely startled and began stumbling backwards towards the fire pit.

“Watch out!” you warned, gripping his hand and pulling him towards you. Lucifer held his breath, trying to process what just happened. His head ended up flush against your chest, your face now feeling as hot as the flames in the pit. You let go of his hand and stepped away from him as fast as you could. Lucifer remained motionless. “I-I’m so sorry, your majesty! I didn’t mean for you to…I’m sorry!”

You finally heard Lucifer exhale. He stood up straight and fixed his wrinkled jacket, making every effort to not look you in the eyes.

“It’s alright, m-my dear,” he spoke softly, “no harm done. A-And please, call me Lucifer.”

“Okay. Lucifer,” you started, “I didn’t mean to startle you. I saw you over here and I heard what you said and…is everything alright?”

Lucifer was tense again. You noticed him clench his fists. “How much did you hear?”

“Not much,” you admitted. “you just sounded worried about something.”

The king let out a sigh, letting his hands relax. “Thank you for your concern, I-I appreciate it. It’s nothing…nothing that you need to trouble yourself with. It’ll be fine.” Lucifer waved his hand, a portal now swirling open behind him, leading to his bedroom. “I think we should both get some sleep now. And t-thank you for catching me. Although, fire can’t harm me…b-but I appreciate the rescue nonetheless!” He was about to step through the portal when you caught his hand once more.

“Wait,” you said quietly. Lucifer looked down at the ground, still refusing to meet your gaze. You frowned. “Sir-I mean Lucifer…I wanted to ask you something. I need to know.” You felt his hand squeeze yours; he was tense again. “I-I’ve been feeling like I’m not welcome here by you.” Lucifer finally lifted his head, his eyes almost piercing your soul. He looked distraught at your words. You never noticed how beautiful his eyes truly were, the soft yellow complimented his pure white skin nicely. You blushed slightly, but shook your head and tried to remember what you were saying. “I-I just mean, you seem to avoid me every time I’m near. If I’ve done something to upset you, I’m very sorry. And if you’d rather I’d not stay here, then…”

“NO!” he shouted, now gripping your hand with both of his. “I-I mean, no. You haven’t done anything wrong! Please…Please don’t leave. I should be the one apologizing if that’s truly how you’ve been feeling. I never want you to feel unwelcome here, especially not from me. It…It’s just that…I…” Before he could finish his explanation, his eyes dropped for just a split second before returning to yours. His gaze had somehow shifted into a more panicked expression. He let go of your hands immediately and stepped through his portal in a hurry. “I-I have to go, I’m sorry!” You couldn’t get another word out before his portal disappeared from view.

You stood alone in the parlor, alone and confused. The fire had died out, and you felt a shiver down your spine at the realization of how cold it had gotten without it. But you couldn’t let the conversation end there. You needed to know what was going on with him. You wouldn’t sleep until you did. Luckily, Lucifer’s room at the hotel was very easy to find.

[ava-of-shenanigans]

Translating Nyarlathotep’s names, titles, and epithets into Middle Egyptian for funsies

Middle Egyptian is the version of the Ancient Egyptian language that was spoken from about 2000 BCE (4000 years ago) to 1300 BCE (3300 years ago). I’ve been learning it for several months now, but since I am still learning there are many epithets I just do not know how to translate yet (and I could be wrong even about the ones I think I do know how to translate). Also, I’m pretty sure that the lore around Nyarlathotep is that he was in Egypt in the Old Kingdom, when they spoke Old Egyptian not Middle Egyptian, but I don’t know Old Egyptian so fuck it, we ball.

All the hieroglyphs I’m going to show here should be read left to right, top to bottom. If you want to change them to be read right to left (which is how hieroglyphs were usually read), you just have to mirror reverse them so they face the other way. Hieroglyphs can’t be read bottom to top, however, so you can’t change that. Some formatting changes would be required to change the ones that are primarily horizontal to being primarily vertical, and vice versa.

First off: His name.

Originally, I was going to start this post with a punishingly long explanation of exactly what all this means and why I have all these different variations of the name. I think an explanation like that is necessary to put somewhere on this post, but I don’t want to force people who just do not care to read all that, so I’ve put it at the very end beneath a “keep reading.”

Now for (some) epithets and titles:

“Mighty Messenger:”

Transliteration: wpwty wsr. A way to pronounce it: Weputy weser or uputy user.

“Great Messenger:”

Transliteration: wpwty wr. A way to pronounce it: Weputy wer or Uputy ur.

The “Black Pharaoh:”

There are two ways to write this one. The first is this:

Transliteration: nsw km. A way to pronounce it: Nesu kem.

It means “black king” not “black pharaoh,” but I think it might make more sense to say it this way. The way you’d say “black pharaoh” is like this:

Transliteration: pr-ʿȝ km. A way to pronounce it: Per a’a kem.

This literally means “the black Great House,” since the word “pharaoh” literally means “Great House.” This would be sort of like if Nyarlathotep appeared on earth today in the form of a United States president and we called him “the black White House,” or if he appeared as a Russian president and we called him “the black Kremlin.” The problem with this one is that I’m not so clear on if the rules for stacking adjectives would even allow for you to say this.

Also, fun fact, Ancient Egyptians considered black to be a good colour, since they associated it with the fertile soil beside the Nile. So this title would not be sinister to them. Like if Nyarlathotep appeared as a US president and we called him “the cool awesome White House.”

“Soul (of the Other Gods):”

Transliteration: kȝ kywy nṯrw. A way to pronounce it: Ka keywey netcheru.

It’s hard to just translate “soul” directly into Egyptian because the Ancient Egyptians didn’t just believe in “a soul,” they believed in a bunch of different parts of a soul that all did different things. The part I’ve used for this translation is the ka, because I think it’s the closest to what we might think of when we hear the word “soul.” I think you could make an argument that since Nyarlathotep’s job is to go and enact the Other God’s will for them, he could be considered their akh, but the akh is a very distinctly Egyptian concept and has lot to do with being dead and getting to the Egyptian afterlife, so I don’t think it works well here. You might also argue that he could be their heart (ib) since the Egyptians thought that you did your thinking with your heart instead of your brain, and Nyarlathotep seems to be a lot more capable of thought than the rest of the “blind, voiceless, mindless” Other Gods, but hearts don’t go out and do things for you so I don’t think that one works either.

“Soul and messenger (of the Other Gods):”

Transliteration: kȝ wpwty kywy nṯrw. A way to pronounce it: Ka weputy keywey netcheru.

“God of a Thousand Forms:”

Transliteration: nṯr ḫprw ḫȝ. A way to pronounce it: Netcher kheperu kha.

Also, as a bonus, I noticed while I was looking for epithets to translate that Fungi From Yuggoth calls Azathoth the “Lord of All.” That’s an Azathoth epithet, so I don’t really have an excuse to translate it into Egyptian, but “Lord of All” is also a common epithet for the Egyptian god Horus. If I ever write that thing about Egyptian gods fighting Nyarlathotep then I will find a way to exploit this. Anyway, here’s how you can say “Lord of All:”

Transliteration: nb tm. A way to pronounce it: Neb tem.

Nyarlathotep’s name is kind of a nightmare to try and spell with the Ancient Egyptian alphabet (good for him, he’d probably want it that way). Here’s my long ass explanation of why I chose to write it the ways I did in this post:

Why is his name spelled without vowels?:

In Ancient Egyptian writing, the vowels are usually left out and only the consonant sounds in words are written down (it’s a lot like Hebrew in this way). The Egyptians eventually did create a system for writing vowels, and that was used for words that Egyptian readers wouldn’t already know how to pronounce, like foreign names. Nyarlathotep, coming from outer space, would be pretty foreign to them, but the earliest vocalic writing is from the end of the Old Kingdom. I’m going to use that as an excuse to say it didn’t exist when he was around and just not bother with it, because there is no way to spell his name in any vocalic writing system that isn’t incomplete and/or confusing (there are two A’s in there and one of them is right next to an L and that is An Issue). The Is in the spellings of his names with the eye symbol in them do not count as vowels, because they are actually transliteration symbols for a consonant sound.

The L sound:

The L sound in his name is an issue because Ancient Egyptian languages might have had an L sound in them, at some point, but they might’ve not. Basically: If you’ve ever done one of those things that will tell you how to write your name in hieroglyphs, you’ve probably been told that this vulture glyph 𓄿 makes an A sound. That is only true in certain types of vocalic writing. The rest of the time it made a consonant sound. We don’t know what consonant sound, though, because the Egyptians stopped pronouncing it in the New Kingdom. Our best guess (based on it being used to transcribe words from other languages that we know had L and R sounds) is that it made a sound like L or R, which is why I’ve used it here for the L sound.

Why are there all those variations around the TH sound?:

Ancient Egyptian languages did not have a TH sound, and the Egyptian letter T and the Egyptian letter H did not combine to make a new sound like they do in English. They did have an F sound, so you could just spell it Nyarlafotep instead. However, “hotep” (transliteration: ḥtp) is an actual Ancient Egyptian word. It means “peace.” Many Ancient Egyptian names are the name of a god + ḥtp, for example “Amenhotep” which means “Amen is at peace.” That the Ancient Egyptians would have thought Nyarlathotep’s name meant that someone called Nyarlat was at peace is too deliciously ironic to ignore, and that meaning is lost if you spell it NYRLFTP. The two options to preserve that meaning are to make the T the bread loaf glyph 𓏏 (this would change the pronunciation to Nyarlat-hotep) or to try and keep the TH sound somewhat by putting the horned viper glyph 𓆑 in there (this would change the pronunciation to Nyarlaf-hotep).

What do the variations with the eye sign in them mean?:

The eye sign is a hieroglyph that makes two consonant sounds. These sounds are transliterated ir, but that i does not represent an actual I sound (except in vocalic writing). Usually, i made a glottal stop sound, but sometimes it made a Y sound. This means you could use the eye glyph for the consonants YR in his name (and this is cosmic horror, where we like eyeballs and put them on everything wherever we can). However, this might make the name even more confusing to read, because it makes it easy to mistake the Y in the name for a glottal stop.

Why is his name in a cartouche?:

The names of pharaohs (and only pharaohs) were written inside cartouches. And not just any of the pharaoh’s names. Pharaohs had several different types of names, and only the throne name and birth name were written in cartouches. This means it could be debated wether or not it would be proper for his name to be written in a cartouche. However, Nyarlathotep is not actually from Egypt, he’s from space, and at least one of the stories he’s in portrays him as a showman who uses aesthetic connections to Ancient Egypt as a gimmick to get people to come see his brainwashing prophecies of doom, so I feel like he would not care if it was proper or not and would use it anyway because it’s a very recognizable piece of iconography. But if we found hieroglyphic carvings by Ancient Egyptians that warned of the evils of the god Nyarlathotep, his name might not be written in a cartouche and instead be written with the determinative for god 𓀭 after it.