#and they freak out how much they look alike
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bluerosefox · 2 years ago
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Comes in Twos
........You know if we play around with the timeline we could have Danny and Jason die at the same age. Sure Danny half died at 14 and Jason at 15 (according to sources) BUT what if they died at the same age... on the same day...
And what if we make them twins.
Only instead of Danny being the one adopted it was Jason... only he wasn't adopted but stolen the night he and Danny were born (funnily enough they were both born in Gotham because Maddie refused to miss out on a Ghost convention happening, believed she had a few more months to go before their birth but twins are notorious to be born early). He was stolen by Sheila to pass off as Willis son (the one she had either never was real or the baby didn't live long) in order to get money from him and she ran off the moment the cash was in her hands. Willis, never thinking different due to a very convincing fake birth certificate or had the cash to do an DNA test, took Jason in believing he was his son.
The adult Fentons tried everything to find their missing son but due to Gotham corruption and dead ends had to leave the dark city and grieved over him. It's why Jazz took over taking care of Danny when he was a baby/toddler for a while, their parents sometimes felt to heartbroken when they would look at him and know they're was supposed to be an identical one with Danny. It got easier over the years though.
It would also explain how Jason would come back after dying, he was exposed to high levels of ectoplasm along with Danny when Maddie and Jack would experiment with the stuff, and unlike Danny who was immediately brought back by the portal zap its why Jason took longer to come back.
Basically a twins AU where Danny isn't adopted, it was Jason (he totally has Jack's strong build and height btw after he takes a dip in the pit, and Maddie's smarts has always been there) and I felt like wouldn’t it be something if they both were born and later died on the same day because they’re twins.
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youchangedmedestiel · 6 months ago
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Another The French Mistake type of episode but we see how unwell Jensen is about Dean and that fucking scares Dean. And oh boy, I'm sure it would be a hilarious episode.
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fushitoru · 1 month ago
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so i know who i'm looking at! a sukuna ryomen oneshot
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pairing ⸺ ghostface!sukuna x reader
summary ⸺ on halloween night, you get a strange phone call from a man with a distorted voice right as you're chilling while babysitting yuuji. you get an ultimatum: perform for him, or risk your and yuuji's lives.
warnings ⸺ smut, fluff (at the end), pre established consent but dub con just in case, cream pie, lots of degradation and praise, “good girl,” oral sex (m!recieving), recording and pictures, suggested infidelity (but it’s not actually infidelity), exhibitionism, reader gives him a show in exchange for her life, rough sex, semi-public sex, established relationship, mdni, pls help me find artist for credit :(
next. week two
kinktober masterlist | general masterlist
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you stretch, yawning as you adjust the blanket you had on you to cover you and give you warmth on the chilly october evening. gazing forlornly at the balcony window outside, you see kids and college students alike in their halloween costumes visiting homes for treats and bars for booze, respectively. tonight was a night you were supposed to get dicked down by your boyfriend in the bathroom of a frat, but you’re stuck instead with a last minute call to babysit yuji because he’s sick. 
you love the kid too much, like he’s your own baby. which is why you couldn’t refuse playing babysitter, even if that meant forgoing pictures for your instagram with the slutty angel costume you had bought a month who in anticipation of halloweekend. instead, you’re tucked in and cozy, watching scream for the nth time just to fangirl over how hot ghostface is. 
so you’re in your tank top and boy shorts, relaxing and chilling (that is, as much as you can while locked in on your movie). and, as if on cue, the moment the phone rings in the movie, the itadori household’s phone number gets a call.
you jump at the noise, a bit on edge because of the movie and definitely regretting the idea of setting the living room pitch back in spirit of mood lighting. groaning (albeit a bit freaked out), you get up to answer the call, as yuji babysitting protocol required that you answer any call in case it may be an emergency.  
picking up—but a bit on edge—you drone, “itadori household, how can i help you?”
there’s heavy breathing on the other end and you hate your scaredy cat tendencies because your heart is picking up at the distorted and low pants. “h—hello?”
“hey.” the voice is low, just like the breathing, and for a moment, you hate your brain for immediately recalling the nsfw audios you watch to masturbate because the guy on the phone sounds exactly like them. it’s a little freaky that you’re getting such a weird fuckin call at this time, but regardless you persist, in case this was relevant. you kind of need this job.
feigning cheerfulness, you ask, "what can i get ya?" as your fingers absently toy with the thin strap of your tank top. the cool air from the nearby vent sends a shiver across your skin, but the silence on the other end of the line is more unnerving. you're met with nothing but heavy breathing, and each exhale seems to scrape against your eardrums.
shifting uncomfortably, you feel the sweat beading at the nape of your neck as impatience builds. your fingers tighten around the receiver. "are you gonna talk or should i hang up?" you finally snap, agitation bleeding into your voice.
but before you can slam the phone down, he speaks.
“what’s your favorite scary movie?”
a groan escapes you, the kind that rises from deep in your chest, exasperation overtaking any lingering nervousness. "look, buddy, this is soooo corny. like, i was literally just watching scream, so you’re not doing shit. if you wanna prank call a girl, try somewhere else because—"
“you got a boyfriend?”
“i do,” you quip back quickly, a hand on your hip as you stand straighter, eyes flicking to the doorway of the kitchen. shadows dance in the dim light, your heartbeat subtly picking up pace. you move to hang up the phone, more irritated than frightened now. “so you better not try anything funny and waste more of your time, you fu—”
“but he’s not sleeping upstairs with the kid?”
the world freezes. you pause, the phone hovering mid-air. what did he just say? your pulse quickens, each thud louder than the last as dread claws at your chest. "what?"
a laugh, deep and guttural, slithers through the receiver. it’s the kind of laugh that makes your stomach drop and your legs feel weak. his voice is smooth, velvety even, and it curls around your ear like smoke. despite the creeping fear, something primal makes your thighs clench involuntarily. “okay, now that i’ve finally got your attention, let’s try this again. what’s your name, baby?”
that word—baby—the way he drags it out, rich and slow, makes your heart stutter, even as fear wraps tighter around your ribs. you grip the edge of the counter, nails digging into the cool surface. “why do you wanna know?”
“so i know who i’m looking at.”
the room spins. your breath falters, shallow, barely there. it’s like the walls are closing in, and your throat feels thick with fear. you lick your dry lips, throat tightening painfully. “wha—what do you mean?”
a soft coo hums through the phone, mockingly sweet. “no need to be afraid, pretty baby. you don’t want the kid upstairs to die, do you?”
your blood turns to ice. the words don’t make sense at first, but when they do, it feels like the floor’s been yanked out from beneath you. your mind races, every nerve in your body screaming. “what the fuck? is this some kind of prank call? this isn’t funny.”
but the man just continues, as if he didn’t just say something so horrifying that your stomach churns. his voice remains steady, eerily calm. “the kid, how old is he? five, six? he’s dozin’ off in those stupid iron man pj’s of his.” you swear you can hear his smile through the phone, a wicked curl of satisfaction. “and i love those shorts on you. parading your ass around like the slut you are. how’d your boyfriend leave you alone tonight?”
the walls feel like they’re closing in. a cold sweat breaks out across your skin, and suddenly the room feels too small. your eyes dart toward the darkened stairs. every creak of the house becomes louder, sharper. the hairs on the back of your neck stand on end as you swallow, mouth dry as cotton. it feels like someone is watching—someone who shouldn’t be there.
for a second, you digest the information he’d bestowed upon you—information about yourself. not-so-subtly freaking out, you get out a “please, please don’t do this.” 
 “then gimme a show. follow what i say.”
“o—okay. what do you want me to do?” you’re trembling, your realize, in your fear. or was it arousal?
“come closer to the window,” the voice purrs. you tentatively walk up to the balcony window facing the itadori garden, awaiting instructions as you stand shivering with the chill of the air.
“now,” the voice instructs, “take your top off. gimme a show, alright? better see that fucking back arch when you’re talking it off like filthy stripper slut you are.”
you whimper in humiliation but follow his instructions anyways, slowly becoming more and more of a slave to your arousal, caused by his assured and suave voice. when you take your tank top off, back arched just like he asked, the man groans and you hear distant squelches on the other side of the line.
“good girl. now when you take that bra off, pull up your cups, but don’t take it off, leave it bunched. those tits better bounce for me.” pulling up the cups of your bra, your tits recoil and bounce and the squelching gets even louder as you feel eyes rove over your tits. “fuck, i love those tits. get on your knees and bounce em for me like you’re riding cock.” 
you clench so hard as you move to do as he says. part of you is soooo aroused to be forced around like this, so you’re easily giving him the show that he wants, getting on your knees and moving your chest so that they start rhythmically bouncing, synced up with the squelches you hear in the other side of the phone.
“stick your tongue out. drool on your tits.” you moan, your tongue lolling out as a glob of spit starts trailing down your body.
 “fuck!” he exclaims, aroused by the sight. “you like being bossed around this baby? like my little bitch?”
“no!” you sob, tears springing out at the utter humiliation you were experiencing. “please let me go, please don’t do anything to yuji!” 
the voice chuckles. “really? i think you’re lying, baby. i know that pussy is wet while you’re giving me a show. matter of fact, why don’t you show me? make sure i get a really good look at that cunt, okay?”
slipping your shorts off, you turn so that your backside is facing the lawn and uncover your traitorous pussy—glistening wet—to him. taking a few steps back, you breathe heavily—like the person on the other side of the phone—as you press your pussy against the glass, the heat and humidity originating from your inner walls fogging the area on the glass. you hear a snap! on the other side, indicated that he had taken a photo. eyes widening in panic, you ask, “what are you doing? please, i’m doing whatever you wa—”
“i can’t let everyone think you’re some innocent virgin, can i? parading your ass and pussy for me, when anyone in the neighborhood can see? matter of fact,” and you start panicking at his next words, “i’ll post this online if you don’t grind that ass back for me.”
you swallow and start to do as he says. the glass is cool as you rub your folds along it, your slick dirtying the glass as you move your folds on the glass door. of course, the glide isn’t smooth—your clit keeps catching on the glass, but the fact that you’re bare to the world, any stray eyes being able to see you on display arouses you to no extent. you’re ashamed of being aroused at having to perform for a stranger, but you continue regardless and clutch the phone in your hand as he speaks to you again.
“the fuck you so wet for?” the voice mocks you. “you get off on this shit?”
“fuck you,” you moan, continuing to rub yourself. “i hate you.” 
the man laughs meanly. “for someone you hate, you’re getting pretty wet for me, baby.” the sounds of him stroking his dick are even louder as you grind against the door at the same tempo that he moves his hand at, grunting as you continue moaning into the mic. “look at how you’re clenching—good girl. want me to come in and make you cum?”
“real fucking cocky,” you hiss into the phone, “really fuckin cocky of you to think you can make me cum. with the way you had to threaten me, i just know you have a micro.”
as soon as you say that, the call hangs up and you look at your screen in confusion. that is, until you feel hands on your bare hips, knees–covered in black fabric—pressing against the junction between your thighs. “say that again,” the voice whispers.
you turn, eyes wide and heart speeding up as you turn to see the very figure that showed up in your movie. reminiscent of the killer, a tall man in a mask is hunched over you, now moving his hands to grip at your hands. “let’s take this to the bed, shall we?”
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“oh shit,” ghostface curses, continuously snapping photos of your lips, the flash going off in the dark room. “look at this,” and he brings the camera closer and closer to your pussy, using his other hand to spread your lips as you helplessly lie on the bed, forced to spread your legs for him. “this pussy clenches everytime the flash goes off!” and he’s laughing, mocking you as slick leaves your hole in drops as the utter way you’re being humiliated. he grabs your cheeks roughly with the hand that was spreading your nether regions, squeezing them together and focusing the camera on your face. “this is the slut i’m going to fuck. gonna suck my cock, right?”
“mhm,” you whimper, resigned to your fate. making quick work of his robe, he takes them off completely, still leaving his mask in place. as he uncovers his pelvis, your eyes immediately rove over the hardened muscles on his abdomen. there’s a pink happy trail leading down to his dick, which is furiously red and standing. he grabs it, pumping the length as he moves closer and closer to your face until his precum is smearing against your face.
 “fuck,” he curses, as he takes in the sight of your teary eyes looking up at him dumbly, lips puckered as he slaps his cock against your cheeks until your cheeks are turning red. you’re giving kitten licks to his tip every time he alternates between slapping your two cheeks, not knowing what do to with yourself except focus on your oral fixation telling you instinctively to suck his cock. he then uses his fingers to pull your mouth open and slowly feeds his cock inside, eyes rolling back as soon as he feels your warm breath and hot tongue encompass him. 
you’re sucking at his tip and alternating between licking the rest of his dick, and he’s lost in the tight, wet heat of your mouth hollowing around him. you then prop yourself on your knees, using your hands to grab and play with his balls, stimulating him even more and causing him to rip out of your mouth and growls, “on your hands and knees. now.”
he doesn’t give you sufficient time to turn around and fully adjust in your position as he’s slamming into your roughly, the wet plush of your pussy too enticing. because you didn’t see it coming, your face is smushed against the pillow, and he grabs at your hands, using his free hand to hold them together at the small of your back. 
“you like my cock, baby?”  he pants, sweat beginning to run down his torso. when you don’t respond, he lets go of your hands to smack you consecutive times on your ass. “answer me.”
“i love it sooo much,” you babble, too lost in the pleasure to form more coherent thoughts as you ramble. “it’s splitting me—oh my god.” your eyes roll back—in pain or pleasure, you can’t decide—as his cock kisses your cervix. the masked man keeps thrusting in you, the sounds of his hips smacking into yours echoing throughout your room in a series of plap plap plap’s. 
“yea? fuck, i’m so close. you wanna live baby?” he grabs your hair and pulls, giving you a sloppy wet kiss on your cheek. “let me come inside. you’ll let me dump my cum in you, right?”
you only clenched tighter at his words. “please,” you sobbed. “please come inside. please paint my walls. i want your cum so bad.” 
you were so close, staving off your orgasm until he filled you up. at your words, the intruder laughed mockingly and kept thrusting into you, but the telltale sloppiness of his hips indicated that he was close. “god, what a slut—” he was interrupted by his own climax, and as soon as the thick ropes of cum filled you, you came with a squeal, your back arching impossibly further as your thrashed on his dick because of the intensity of your orgasm. both of you rid it together, panting as you came down. 
he pulls out of you, and before you can catch your breath, the man flops his entire weight on top of you, making you laugh as you let out a startled exclamation, “ryo!”
you squirm beneath him, trying to push him off, but it’s futile. he’s far too big and heavy, and he knows it. with a low, lazy chuckle, your boyfriend, sukuna ryomen, removes his mask—tossing it carelessly onto the floor—before nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck. his breath is warm against your skin, and you can feel the heat radiating off him as his chest rises and falls in rhythm with your own.
“did you enjoy that stupid thing you wanted, brat?” he mumbles, slightly panting in exhaustion.
his words are snarky, but you can hear the affection laced beneath them. your heart swells with a sudden rush of warmth, the fondness you feel for him almost overwhelming. it’s moments like this—where he does something ridiculous just because you asked, despite all his grumbling—that remind you why you love him so much.
you wrap your arms around his broad back, fingers trailing lazily up and down his spine as you press a soft kiss to the top of his head. “you didn’t have to go all out, you know,” you whisper, smiling into his hair. “but i really appreciate it. you’re kind of the best, even when you pretend you’re not.”
ryomen grunts, but there’s no bite to it. he tightens his hold around you, his large frame practically cocooning you in warmth. you feel his lips brush softly against the skin of your neck, a tender gesture that contrasts with his usual roughness.
“yeah, well... you’re lucky i love you, freak,” he murmurs, voice low and husky. despite his usual bravado, there’s something undeniably soft in the way he says it, as if the words are meant just for you.
you hum contentedly, feeling the weight of his body press you into the mattress. it’s comforting, like being wrapped in a warm blanket. you trace circles on his back with your fingertips, savoring the quiet intimacy of the moment, where it’s just you and him—no roleplay, no teasing—just the quiet aftermath of love.
“lucky, huh?” you tease back softly. “i’d say we’re both pretty lucky.”
ryomen huffs a quiet laugh against your skin before lifting his head slightly to look at you, his dark eyes soft in the dim light. then, he gets up and makes a move to walk out the door. at first, you thought he was heading towards the bathroom door to give you a towel to clean you up, but he’s heading towards the door—soft cock swinging, butt naked—and you’re only left in confusion as to what he’s doing.
“ryo, where are you going?”
“fixin myself a sandwich, i’m hungry,” he grumbles over his shoulder, leaving you dumbfounded. you’re left sitting on the bed as he continues the trek down the stairs to satiate his post sex hungries. 
“hey!” you shriek, “your balls are out! what if yuji sees?” 
later, when yuji walks deliriously into the kitchen to see his uncle’s cock and balls, he almost wishes he could fully succumb to his fever.
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next. week two
kinktober masterlist | general masterlist
a/n hehe i love fluffy sukuna. consider joining my kinktober taglist if you'd like!
taglist:
@sugoroo @ryutotsukai0824 @sharkubi @lisvanrouge @mxlktae
@samisfunky @achbbys000 @xd3pr3ss3dx @jottositto
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muntitled · 1 year ago
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𝘽𝙧𝙖𝙞𝙣 & 𝙃𝙚𝙖𝙧𝙩
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: ̗̀➛ Mattheo Riddle x Fem!reader | Brief!Harry Potter x fem!reader
: ̗̀➛ Summary: Jealousy makes the heart grow fonder.
: ̗̀➛ Warnings: Alcoholism, Dark!fic, Ravenclaw!reader, Bullying, Unrequited Love, Shy!reader, Toxic Relationship, Jealousy, Narcissism, Weaponizing!Harry (sorry boo), Fluff, A bit of Angst, Smut +18 (Minors DNI), DubCon, Semi Public sex, Unprotected Sex, Oral Sex, Masturbation, Dom/Sub, CNC, humping, Spitting, Degradation, Dacryphillia, Choking, Gagging, Subspace, Slapping, Sadism, Breeding Kink
5k words
A/N: Hell truly is empty. I apologise in advance.
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You have made peace with the incomparable fact, long ago, that if the muggle God existed - if he is known to shepard Muggles and Wizards alike, then he was far too busy to attend to you. There is just too much going on all at once. The wizarding world is caught in its archaic intolerance of Half-Bloods. On the mortal side, you were informed from your private tutoring with Professor McGonagall that their smartphones are threatening devolution.
“It’s the closest thing they’ve got to a wand, Lovie, so we can’t really fault them on that, can we?” 6 years into your schooling at Hogwarts and you would continue to shadow Professor McGonagall, hoping you might one day soar to her heights of academic prestige in the wizarding world. You needed to be a Professor as much as a mortal needs to breathe….
You cannot let him, of all people, ruin things. Your reputation is a fragile, flammable thing - and he is freaking Kerosene.
It's difficult to pinpoint when it started or how your sensibilities rushed away from you so swiftly. One moment you’re planting your textbook on the face of a wooden desk - the sound reaching the rafters in the highest peak of the deserted classroom…
“A Guide To Advanced Transfiguration.” Mattheo read the title aloud with a tedious uninterested drawl. “Seems a bit presumptuous to shove this down my throat so early on. Shouldn't we be starting from the beginning?"
You ignored him promptly, using the silence to arrange your colour coordinated stationery on your desk beside Riddle's,
“I had no idea," You began, brushing off your blue lined robes and flattening the invisible creases on your skirt, "-That the person residing under my tutelage would be a first year."
Riddle stabbed the inside of his mouth with his tongue, while his eyes rolled to the back of his head. Your face remained passive as you continued, "You are a sixth year, correct?” You asked with a snide tilt of the head before planting yourself on the desk beside him.
“You are a big boy capable of understanding big boy books,” Unbeknownst to you, your words managed to stir something foreign within Mattheo but he conceals it with his usual veneer of arrogance as he swings his head lazily in your direction.
"May we begin?" You asked, with your back straightened - inches away from his hand now hanging on your chair.
"In a bit…" he says, "Just..." his voice trails off as his eyes scan over your visage, likely assessing it like an unseen tapestry. The truth is, Riddle did not know you prior to being forced under your tutelage. His droopy brown eyes appeared even more so as he broke the distance between you two and studied you closer. A tense silence grew pregnant in the ancient classroom, and your resolve was beginning to slip. Only one thought inflated a puddle of anxiety in your stomach:
Could this be your first kiss? Is this what first kisses looked like? Could this be your very first brush of intimacy overall?
Your brain failed to rationalise and compartmentalise his attraction, but your heart pushed your head closer.
"Call me a big boy again..." He had whispered… which evidently led you here.
Your lesson had ended with your hand covered in his release and a breathless smirk painted across his face. "This goes without saying," he breathed out with a satisfied smirk, "But tell anyone about this, and you're dead."
Ever since that day, your tutoring has been but a veneer of something much more sinister. When you were thrusted into the light of day, Mattheo overlooked you as did lots of his Slytherin friends. Besides the occasional threat and vague insult, you mean nothing to him.
When you two are alone, however, as you are right now, he would enchant you into servitude, lightly pushing your head down while he kissed you silly until your knees were planted on the hardwood floor.
Mattheo briefly opens his eyes to peer down at you. It is then when you notice the fresh bruise dotting the side of his face, and his pillowy lips split by a small incursion. He had very clearly gotten into another fight..
“Your mouth feels so fucking good when you're not using it to be a smart ass,” His words illicit a bubble of heat inside you.
Despite all this, you are clearly aware of the fact that you should not be enjoying this at all. Not one bit. For starters, you can feel the old wooden floors digging into the meat of your knees and the crisp winter chill is unkind to your scantily dressed state. Your shirt is unbuttoned because Mattheo was like a moth to a fucking flame when it came to your ample breasts and his hand is buried tightly in your kinky curls, forcing his cock even further down your throat. The very bones of Hogwarts seem to be in vehement protest of your blatant whorishness.
3 silver chains hang from his neck as he plants his other hand against the wall behind you, blocking your kneeling frame between both him and cold, hard stone. You crane your neck back, keeping a half lidded gaze on the jewelry that drives you feral with lust. You are content imagining that perhaps, when he is getting ready in the slytherin common rooms, he wears the silver for you. A fanciful thought but one that consistently has your intestines weaving themselves into knots.
That, paired with his striking, jet black blazer, which is discarded somewhere in the abandoned classroom, has you keening and fighting to take even more of him into your mouth. Perhaps you were peacocking a little - flatting your tongue so his cock slid seamlessly to the back of your throat while you fought to ignore the pain blossoming on your scalp. He had turned you from an inexperienced nun to something you're not quite ready to examine yet.
"You're finally putting this head of yours to good use…" Despite his feigned arrogance you're utterly delighted knowing that only you can bring Mattheo to such an utterly restless state. He does not really know what to do with himself.
Not when you took so much of him, so well.
You clench your toes.
Feeling himself get too close, Mattheo eases his cock fully out of your mouth, languidly stroking himself but still assuming a firm grip on your scalp. He is operating on that very specific plain of narcissism that was special to Mattheo. He is aware of your presence, physically, but his words are spoken into the open air, like you are an inanimate object. A glorified toy.
"Are all Ravenclaws as compliant as you are?”
You bring a crisp white sleeve up to your lips, wiping away the excess drool as you remain kneeled in front of him, knowing he has yet to finish.
"If you ever think of finding out," your voice is hoarse, "this will be the last time I offer you any free study sessions."
"Is money all you seek?" He attempts to feign composure, continuing to languidly stroke his cock. "How utterly greedy. I thought- fuck… - I thought you were far more philosophical than that"
You watch hungrily as Mattheo bites on his pillowy bottom lip. He is prolonging the release, taking his time as he usually did... "If you plan on edging yourself in my mouth instead of actually finishing the job, I do have other commitments to attend to-"
He ignores you... his brows furrowing and smoothening at odd intervals as he continues to touch himself while studying you.
"We may not be studying… but I still intend to pass Transfiguration, hope you're aware." He punctuates his sentence with an breathless laugh- it blossoms across his usually stoic visage, raising his buttercup cheekbones towards his smiling eyes.
As he talks, you examine his scars and feel the slow essence of admiration seep into the pit of your stomach. An arguably pathetic feat, given that your feelings will not ever be reciprocated.
Brewing inside you is the need to take care of him. You knew the rest of the student body viewed Mattheo as a glorified parasite. Something that is only capable of thinking within the capacity of its own means. Something that takes, and takes, and occasionally jokes around, and takes. But how could he know anything different? You suspected that his home life was built on the foundation of survival, on needing to be the loudest, and proudest, and worst of them all.
"What the fuck are you doing?" The sharpness of his words slice through your thoughts, bringing you back to yourself. Mattheo's gaze is placed firmly on something down below. Throughout his mindless tirade, your hand had taken to rubbing soft, comforting circles against the leg of his pants, quite literally on its own accord. Mattheo is bent over, head tilted as he watches you questioningly. Seconds stretch to a minute, and your stomach sinks as time passes.
Eventually, he dismisses you. He shakes his head. "Whatever," He says, tilting your head back and lining your mouth with the head of his cock once more. His visage darkens into a cruel sadistic grin. "Tell me you want me to come in your mouth."
Almost instinctively, you do as he orders and like clockwork, you swallow his cum, wondering if he knew how deeply and truly your words actually were. There was a moment, perhaps imagined, in which his fingers gripping your hair, melted to the side of your soft, supple cheek. It stays there for longer than necessary, leaving bits and pieces of your composure scattered in its wake.
Mattheo soon straightens his posture, stuffing his flaccid cock back into his pants before making himself as presentable to the student body as they know him to be (which admittedly is not a lot) And before he turns to walk away, he leaves you stranded on a glacier with his ice cold words cutting deep into your beating heart.
"Tell anyone about this-"
"And I'm dead," You interject, "I know."
And with that, you pull your ruffled collar over your lint-free school jersey and check your reflection to assess the damage Mattheo and his iron grip might have left. You needn't wait for an extension on the conversation because your job here was done, (pun so malevolently intended).
As far as Mattheo is concerned, you are an easy conduit to release his frustrations through because your unpopularity makes you so incredibly inconspicuous. You blend into any given crowd at any given moment, your name seldom reaching the heights of ridicule among his group because you are so unforgettable… There had been no reason to point out your flaws, not because you did not have any, but because you were simply invisible.
It is particularly strange to have any social interaction beyond the bounds of group projects and class discussions… so Harry Potter gifting you even a sliver of attention had been violently unorthodox. So unorthodox, in fact, you failed to look up from the weathered pages of your novel when his gentle voice wafted in your direction during a rare free period in Study of Ancient Runes. Your professor has been summoned quite promptly by the headmaster and has yet to return. The class has been in a state of havoc ever since.
"I don't know if you're aware of this but…" A deep shadow over the pages alerted you to his presence, "They both die at the end."
It was incredibly rare that Potter, who sat at the desk directly in front of you, ever felt the need to strike up conversation that was not purely academic. Gryffindors made use of Ravenclaws as often as Slytherins.
So naturally, you peer curiously up at him…
"Sorry?"
"Y-Your book. It's a muggle book, isn't it? I haven't seen anything with a cover like that around here. It's refreshing. Everything in the wizarding world is ancient and leatherbound." He mumbles as his index finger slides into the collar of his red quidditch jersey. He finds himself suddenly overcome by a wave of embarrassment even though there was nothing at all to be embarrassed about… he turns his chair slightly in your direction, his eyes darting to the door and the empty teacher's seat before meeting yours once more.
"'They Both Die At The End." He says, pointing towards the title.
"Oh…" You affirm, rocking your head back and forth, "You were making a joke?"
"No," Harry snickers before waving a large hand in dismissal, "Evidently, the only thing I 'made' was a complete and utter fool of myself."
You're not sure when it happens but you feel the lower half of your face melting into what you suspect is a smile. You can feel your shoulders relaxing and your novel lowering imperceptibly.
"Work on your delivery next time and maybe we'll be getting somewhere."
"Is that how it is!?" Harry asked, pleasantly surprised by your banter, "- I could've sworn I had a shred of dignity before the start of this conversation. Now I'm not quite sure where that went."
Mattheo's feet pass over the threshold as soon as the sound of your laughter rushes past him. It is almost charming in its familiarity but incredibly curious in its rarity. He can't recall ever seeing you with your head thrown back while the instinctive sound of amusement races through your throat. He does not know he's staring until Draco shoves past him, to get to their own seats in the front of the class.
His eyes remain on you as he makes his way to his desk, hoping, perhaps, that you would turn your head infinitesimally, in acknowledgment of his presence.
You do nothing of the sort, and it not only fills him with a weird sort of dissatisfaction but it bubbles into full blown vexation when he realises who is capturing your attention so viscerally.
Mattheo has never prided himself on his patience or tolerance.
Overthinking is something he consistently lives without.
Most of his actions were spurred from things he felt in the now, and he was really fucking uncomfortable with what was happening now.
His glances at the front of the class before finding you once more in the very back corner of the class. He notices that Harry is stationed in front of you but the seat beside you is completely deserted.
Did you not have friends?
And more importantly; how did he never notice until now?
What if…
Perhaps if he…
"You didn't let me know we were having a picnic," The sound of a chair scraping against the tiles had both you and Harry rallying into silence. Mattheo appears at your side, pushing the chair against yours so he, too, sits facing Potter - who suddenly appears incredibly uneasy. Gone is the comfortable atmosphere cooked by easy and amicable conversation. Mattheo injecting himself into your little bubble created a suddenly charged and suffocating atmosphere. You cannot keep your wide eyes off Mattheo as he lowers himself to his chair beside you with his legs spread as he slouches down, like he always does.
"Don't stop on my accord," He exclaims, completely oblivious to the fact that your professor might walk in at any minute. "What were we talking about?" Your heart wrestles in your chest as you see him turn to address you. His slouching puts him a level lower than you, but it does nothing to lessen his intimidation.
"Maybe I should ask, Potter?" Mattheo turns his attention to the front, "What were you lot talking about?" There is not a trace of friendliness present in Riddle's tone. In fact, it's the very opposite. Your nerves, swelling with anxiety, only escalate into full-on panic when you feel him place a large hand on your skirt under the table.
Harry's voice is low and his eyes are trained on the floor, "Books-"
"Books!" Mattheo cuts him off with sarcastic fervour, "How utterly fascinating!" The hyperbolic wonder in his tone is utterly rude and unbecoming, but you look down at your desk in blatant anger. Refusing to be a part of whatever this is.
"And tell me, Potter, how many books have you read so far?"
It is then that Riddle's once stationary hand begins the faintest trace of movement. He begins slow and tame, his callouses barely registering on the soft fabric until his fingers prod the lining of your skirt…
Your breath hitches in your throat.
Never had Mattheo ever displayed a desire to touch you. Not in the way he made you touch him. It was made explicitly clear that only he would benefit from your secret rendezvous' and so you were left to deal with your aching cunt alone, with the image of the face he made when he came, still burned into your mind. It had never been about you.
"A couple,'' says Harry, fighting to show this bully that he was unaffected by his intimidation. If only he knew that with every advance Mattheo's palm made, you were slipping farther and farther away.
"A couple books?" Asks Riddle for clarity. He remains lax and languid on the inside, but the nature of his wandering hand underneath the desk tells a new story.
He finally slips under your skirt.
His palm connects with the softness of your thighs and he seems utterly pleased by it. His hand is immediately restless to explore how far you would let him go. Which isn't very far.
Not at all.
If he thought he could suddenly touch you after myriad occasions of using you like a discarded toy… he had another thing coming.
The tips of Mattheo's fingers make gradually increasing strokes along your thigh until his fingers prod the stretch marks on your inner thigh. It is there when you stop him, clenching your legs together, blocking his hand from any further movement.
Mattheo's voice is strained as he says, "And you like reading, Potter?"
Sensing something brewing between the two of you - your withdrawn, hazy gaze, staring directly through the desk and Mattheo's overabundance in questions, has Harry reeling backwards.
"I asked you a question, Harry."
"I like reading."
"Good! That's really good!" Quite suddenly, Riddle tilts the ends of his half-moon nails into your thigh. His nails bite into your skin, forcing them to weaken and unclamp. Before you're even able to think, his palm is cupping your cunt through your panties- forcing an indecent yelp from your throat which you quickly (and very badly) disguise as a cough.
Mattheo is utterly pleased while he continues mindlessly stroking your cunt. Not for the purpose of any glorious stimulation. His hand is just there to show you (and perhaps maybe himself) that he has access to the most private part of you.
That thought alone has an unforeseen and sudden wave of lust coursing through his veins and surging straight to his hardened cock. He thinks of all the things he could have done to you but failed to do. He thinks about how, up until this point, he had ever been satisfied with using your mouth alone, not when he was denying himself the softness of your pussy all along.
He felt angry with himself, for being so fucking stupid, he is angry at Potter for seeing whatever it is he saw in you, way before he did and, possibly most harrowing of all is the fact that he is angry with you. And he can't help but be angry at you. How easily you whore yourself out to any and every man. If this thing with Potter had gone far enough, would you replace him? Had you even fucked Potter before?
You bite down on your lower lip as your head bows even further into your book. The words blend into one another, and all you can feel is a rise in temperature and Mattheo's suddenly restless fingers, pressing rudely against your clit - for the sole purpose of ripping an orgasm out of you right then and there, at the very back of an unsupervised classroom, with Harry Potter still very much a part of the conversation.
"You've got so many books to read in your lifetime," Says Mattheo. He sits up slowly, likely spurred on by the dampness seeping through your panties. "Don't cut your long life short by trying to entertain other people's girlfriends, yeah?" Gone are any traces of feigned friendliness. "Fucking Mudblood,"
Your skin feels like you are bathing in magma and you hope Potter could not see the slight tremor in your hand as you gripped the sides of your book with more force than necessary.
Mattheo's words… they have you shifting forward and widening your legs minutely. You crave for nothing more than to roll your hips in tandem with the circles he's pressing against your clit.
"Understood?"
Your orgasm is dangerously close, with the promise of sheer, disgusting shame and embarrassment if he continues. You feel Harry give you one final curious look, perhaps pleading for an interjection of denial at some point but you've taken to bouncing your knee under the table, hoping the vibrations might create enough friction to aid Mattheo's hands. He is keeping you trapped in a space of wanting. So much so, that this almost feels like a punishment.
Once Harry is turned back around and facing the front of the class, Mattheo lowers his lips to your ears. The damp smell of firewhiskey floods your nostril and you realise that he is completely drunk. In the second lesson of the day.
However, you're so completely stimulated, even the warmth of his breath as you fight the urge to hump into his hand like a lost little puppy until you make a mess all over his hand.
"You're such a fucking slut, you know that?" Your book drops to your desk - muffled by the sounds of the classroom cacophony. "You like being humiliated like this?" He asks, almost in complete awe. It takes everything in you not to moan outright.
"Fuck," You whisper to yourself, blinking your eyes shut, warding off the need but to no avail. His fingers are long and limber, and they have you nearly cumming right there, in front of your entire fucking class. Had it not been for your Professor's haphazard arrival into the class, and the swift removal of Mattheo's fingers from between your legs… you might truly have become the slut he labelled you as.
Instead of moving to his designated seat, Riddle raises his hand for the professor… the very same hand that has previously been in between your legs.
"Yes, Mr Riddle?" Asks the Professor, his voice as lacklustre as his appearance.
"May we be excused? We were excused by Professor Slughorn to assist him in-"
"Fine, fine," Says the professor with a wave of dismissal before turning his attention to the rest of the class. "The rest of you, open your textbooks to page 56."
Riddle's hand is clamped around your forearm, already leading you swiftly out the door in a long and wide stride. Had it been any other teacher at all, they might have recognized this for what it so clearly was.
"Here," you have barely made it fully into the boy's bathroom before Mattheo is stuffing his fingers down your throat, making you gag and yelp at the sudden intrusion. "Tell me how good you taste." He doesn't even bother to make sure you're truly left alone in the bathroom before pushing your front against the bathroom sink.
"Is that good?" His voice is as sweet as honey as he forces his fingers deeper down your throat, causing you to cough and gag around them.
Mattheo has half his sense to pull his wand from his back pocket, and without turning around, whispers "Colloportus," and the heavy doors snap shut.
You're supposed to be afraid because you've never seen him like this. Mattheo is always a ball of sarcastic energy between trysts, but it's usually an energy he can somewhat contain.
You don't know what to do with him, not when he's watching you choke on his fingers through the mirror, while his other hand fondles at your breasts and rips your bra down until your nipples are poking through your school shirt.
The figure in the mirror distorts as your eyes begin to water. Thick beads of tears grow pregnant at the ends of your eyes before rolling down the side of your face.
"My girl," Mattheo presses his face into your hair, breathing you in, pressing his body into your side. His hard cock in unmistakable through his school pants, "My messy little girl,"
You finally moan candidly while your fingers grip the countertops and your hips buck into nothingness. Your eyes plead with him in the mirror, hoping they relay how utterly useless with lust you have become. It would not take hard work to make you cum, you're sure one more flick against your material-clad nipples might send you over the edge.
"Fuck, why didn't I think of this sooner,"
This is all new, even for the two of you.
"Spread your legs." He commands, even though his feet are already kicking them apart.
"Come here," you break eye contact in the mirror to face the boy behind you. Mattheo removes his fingers sitting in your mouth, leaving a trail of sticky saliva in its wake before replacing it with a long and messy kiss- one that has his tongue forcing itself inside.
Mattheo weaponizes your distraction to reach around and slide your panties to the side with one hand while he rubs your soft nub with his other, spit-coated hand.
You break away from the kiss, neck craning back and mouth hanging open while your eyebrows dissolve into crescents. You cannot look away from him, as you hump his hand.
"You wanna cum?" You nod enthusiastically. "And what if I told you, you can't cum until I've fucked that little pussy of yours? Hm? What then?" His words have you mewling from the sheer pleasure they bring and your orgasm threatens to snap once more.
"Fuck," He hisses, feeling unable to remove his hand from your wet cunt but needing to, in order to undo his belt and pull his aching cock out. "Don't you dare fucking touch yourself," He says in a deadly quiet voice before bringing his hand up to your mouth. "Spit." You don't ever think of disobeying him, not when you're swimming so deeply in your subspace, not when he's the one to bring you here.
Mattheo collects every bit of saliva you offer him before coating his cock in the stuff.
Deciding not to waste anymore time, he does what his body is screaming for him to do: he bends you over the bathroom sink and pushes cock right through your slippery folds. It's tense and painful and your voice is hoarse from doing all that screaming but the sudden contact strokes a deeply sated part inside yourself. His curved and pretty cock rams your insides with reckless abandon, all while he delivers small slaps against your cheek. Riddle keeps a firm grip on your throat. His mouth is inches away from you while his hips rut into yours. His words are being delivered through clenched teeth.
"You think you're so fucking smart but you're just my little whore, arent you? A little whore thst fucks anything that gives her the slightest bit of attention?" It doesn't even register that Mattheo wrongfully suspects that there had been something between you and Harry but you keep your mouth shut. For all his indifference in the past, this is how you would make him pay.
"Oh~ fuck." His cock bruises your cervix, leaving him balls deep and feral inside you. "Fucking Potter?! You wanna give what's mine, to fucking Potter?!" His voice is utterly depraved and animalistic and it has your orgasm cresting.
He is panting, while he mumbles into your ear.
"What would Potter think? If he saw you like this? What would he think? Would he still want your slutty pussy knowing I've been inside it? Knowing that I've cum so deep inside you? Completely ruining you for anyone else, huh?"
"You…" The tears threaten to spill, "It's only ever been you, Mattheo -oh my god! I'm so fucking close!" You fight down tears as the lava begins to bubble at the pit of your stomach.
"S-Say it again. Tell me you want me!" He exclaims, "Tell me you fucking need me."
"Oh my God, Mattheo, I fucking need you." You push your hips back to meet his thrusts.
His voice wavers after your confession. His strokes became sloppy. His mind is flooded with the tightest of your cunt around his cock- how someone so smart could possibly ever say they need him. It has a flood of heat pooling at the base of his cock. "You're so fucking pretty… my pretty girl - my pretty whore," He nods to himself while his heavy cock finds purchase in a specific clump of sensitive tissue inside your cunt. It has you clamping your own mouth shut, your arms wavering while your back arches towards him, only allowing him better excess.
"I need you," You say once more, swallowing a ball of saliva as you nod towards him through the mirror, "I need you to cum inside me."
"Oh my fucking god," Mattheo's eyes soften in their desperstion, "M'gonna fucking breed pussy right here- fuck!" His grip on your throat grows tighter until you're wholeheartedly cut off from your air supply. You hump his cock until you feel it twitch inside you.
"Y-Youre making me cum, baby- fuck-" You feel his hot cum spurting inside your walls, triggering your own orgasm that has you gripping his cock like a vice.
"So… so pretty" His hips stutter against yours until you've completely drained him of his cum. A sharp tremor settles over your bones and you gasp in vague increments, waiting for the overwhelming state of euphoria to subside… but it never does.
The weight of what you had done comes crashing back down but you are unable to feel anything besides an immense wave of satisfaction at having your deepest need satiated.
"I think I nearly killed Potter today." His voice is a hoarse echo within the school bathrooms.
"There is no Harry Potter," You say, watching him through the mirror, "In my whole world, there is only ever you, Mattheo."
And a part of him believes you, but he refuses to affirm something as emotionally stifling as that. Instead, Mattheo's eyes flutter shut as his nose finds your hair once more. His cock is still buried inside you, and you hiss as he moves his hips slowly, almost insitinvely. He loves being so wholly enveloped by you. He loves feeling you everywhere.
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flamingpudding · 11 months ago
Text
Substitute City Ghost
Clockwork had a plan. Their young king needed to learn how to take care of people without the kind of hero like fighting he did in Amity Park. There was a lot to learn for the young halfa and his king classes could only cover so much. Thus he had found a plan that would give his king the perfect learning expirence while also helping out his recently new friend. Well not that new since his friend was quite an old ghost of their own. But he had only recently made direct contact with her.
Lady Gotham was an old and powerful ghost. Born from the beliefs of her city and strengthened by the once living and protecting it. But she was stretching herself thin. Managing her city, helping the dead find their way, looking out for the shades, and protecting the weaker entities, was already a lot of responsibilities for a city ghost. But Lady Gotham has added more to her plate, supporting those that protect her city. Mortals that she called her knights. Aiding them by controlling the shadows, guiding those that need help toward them, or the other way around, guiding her knights to those that needed help. She was strong, but even a ghost like her could grow exhausted. His friend needed rest and recharge. Surely Lady Gotham wouldn't say no if he invited her to a vacation to the Realms, and in that same invitation, he would direct his king to his new hands on training.
The bats and birds knew something was different about Gotham lately. It was strange and slightly unsettling. The change felt like it had just happened overnight. They were suspicious, wondering if they were sensing one of their rogues planning something big. Jason and Duke appeared to sense it the most.
At first, it didn't appear to be too big of a problem, but then strange things started to happen. Their rogues started tripping over, seemingly nothing. And if that wasn't enough it appeared like their rogues were a whole lot more inattentive to their surroundings. Now the Bats and birds were good at sneaking, but they had human limits. Yet there were times they snuck up on them like they weren't even seen.
Dick swore that one of the goons had stared at him and didn't see him, even though he had tried to pull the tap their shoulder and greet them before punching them act. The guy had turned around and stared at him before looking around like no one was even there until he punched the guy anyway.
And that wasn't even the weirdest part. Bullets, throwing knives or anything aimed and thrown at them never hit their marks. Not for the lag of them dodging but for the things they were sure they shouldn't have been able to react in time for. Tim espacially had pointed out that a bullet should have hit him once but it never even graced him. Yet when he checked the place after the arrest. There had been a clear bullet hole in the wall where he had been.
They weren't sure if it was a blessing or a curse. They had even tried to get a member of the Justice League Dark to look into it. But strangely enough Constantine had refused to even set foot into Gotham for once, and even insisted that the other do not either.
To say that Batman was not amused would have been a very big understatement. The man was brooding. And of course Dick had to jinx them too. The eldest bat kid had to mention that it at least wasn't getting worse.
And don't you know it. It got worse. Like weirdly alarming strangely worse.
Because, how else would you define it when you're in the middle of a briefing with your patrol partner for the night when suddenly a Lazarus Pit look alike portal opens below your feed swallowed you up and the freaking drops you into the middle of a crime scene or mugging.
It was only thanks to their training that they were able to react quickly enough after a bound of disorientation. But fuck did that gave them all a good damn heart attacks when that happened the first time to Damian of all people.
Something was definitely wrong with their city. Thankfully they had some sort of hint, because the first time the Pit portal happened to Duke, he claimed that he saw a white haired figure right before it had swallowed him hole and spit him out at a bank robbery.
Danny was honestly believing he was doing a good job as substitute city spirit while Lady Gotham was enjoying her vacation. Sure , he still had trouble with some things, but he was sure he was getting the hang of the whole supporting the cities vigilantes gig Lady Gotham had going on. The whole managing the shades and the dead spirits was still up in the air, though. But at least he had figured out a way easier way to guide the vigilantes towards the once that needed help.
Now he just needed to figure out what was wrong with that one guy in the red helmet and he was sure that both Clockwork and Lady Gotham would be proud of him and how he had managed her city during her vacation.
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exhaslo · 1 year ago
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CAN YOU MAKE LIKE A SUB SHY READER X NERD DOM MIGUEL? LIKE READER IS LIKE QUEEN BEE BUT LIKE IS THE SHY AND QUIET POPULAR GIRL AND MIGUEL IS THE HOT NERD AND LIKE THEY ARE HANGING OUT AND THEY START TO GET ALL TOUCHY AND READER HETS ALL SHY AND FLUSTERED AND STARTS GRINDING HER PRINCESS PART ON HIS THIGHS AND LIKE SHE IS A SQUIRTER NOT LIKE CUMMING AND SHE GETS EMBARRASSED BY THAT AND MIGUEL BABIES HER AND STARTS FUCKING HER ROUGH BUT NOT TELLING HER DEGRADING NAMES LIKE SLUT OR NONE OF THAT, HE CALLS HER HIS BABY AND ALL THOSE CUTE NAMES AND HE STARTS GIVING HER AFTERCARE AND BEING ALL FLUFFY AND SFW AND SHE REVEALS TO HIM THAT SHE IS A LITTLE<333?
Sorry I took so long! I was in New Orleans for the weekend! I'm all fueled up for writing now! Haha!
Summary: Your casual study group turns into something a little out of hand~
Warning: Minors DNI, fluff, smut, dry humping, p in v, unprotected sex (wrap it up ya'll), aftercare, squirting
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You were the life of the party. Everyone loved you and everyone wanted you to come to their party, gathering, anything. As long as you were there, there was life. You were practically the Queen Bee of the campus. Your beauty and personality shined bright. Everyone wanted to be you and everyone wanted to be with you.
Including Miguel.
Miguel was not shy himself from being popular. He was a hunk at the college and the smartest person there. Everyone wanted a chance with him. Everyone wanted him to help with their homework. The sexiest nerd whom everyone wanted a taste of.
Including you.
So, when word got out that a neutral friend had the two of you coming to their study group, everyone wanted in. This was no longer a study group, this had turned into a full fledge party. You could feel the sweat roll down your neck as you smiled towards your friends and strangers alike. Everyone trying to talk to you. Everyone trying to get your attention.
"Oh! Of course, um...Would you excuse me?" You laughed softly before escaping through the back door, "Jeez,"
"Escaped?" Miguel said with a soft chuckle. You jumped slightly,
"Y-Yes. I got cornered the moment I blinked."
"Awe, poor baby," Miguel teased as he drew closer to you, "Don't like being hovered over?"
You felt your cheeks burn as Miguel stood beside you. He was a freaking giant. You tried to say something, but only a stutter came out. Miguel smelled so good. Whatever cologne he was wearing was making you get closer to him. You squeaked lowly as Miguel fixed your hair, his fingers grazing your cheek,
"Hm? What's this? The most popular girl on campus is shy around men?" Miguel said almost cruelly.
"S-So...So what if I am?"
"Well, can't have that. Those vultures will eat you alive,"
"T-Then...Then help me practice," You muttered ever so lowly, believing that he could not hear you. Miguel's ears perked up as a casual smirk formed against his lips,
"How bold."
You gasped lowly as Miguel pulled your by the wrist. He looked around and took you inside the shed that was in the backyard. You could only feel your heart race as he cleared a space and sat down, patting his lap so casually. You were nervous, but excited. Miguel was the man of your dreams and he here was hiding with you.
"C'mon, can't be shy now." He hummed. You followed his order, sitting on his lap, "Good girl."
A shiver ran down your spine as he complemented you. You weren't sure if it was the liquor in your hand, but you drew closer to him. Miguel took notice and placed his finger against your lip,
"If my baby girl wants a kiss, you gotta earn it."
"E-Earn it?" You stuttered. Miguel played with the rim of your skirt,
"It's okay, baby. We're finally alone." Miguel stroked your cheek, watching you tremble from his touch, "I've been wanting this as much as you have. Who would have thought that you would be this shy?"
"I-It's not a...problem, right?" You asked.
"Course not, baby."
You couldn't help but smile. You wanted to kiss him, but he repeated once more about earning that kiss. You gave a small pout, wondering what he wanted. You bit your lower lip as Miguel started to rub circles around your waist. Subconsciously, you started to grind your hips against his thigh. Miguel's smirk only grew as you started to get into it,
"That's my baby girl," He cooed softly, "Keep going."
You whimpered low moans as the fabric of your panties and his jeans kept rubbing against your clit. Miguel hummed lowly as he finally kissed you, his fingers aiding your efforts. You gasped into the kiss, moaning lowly as he laid you down. You skirt was lifted upwards as his fingers rubbed circles around your clit.
"M-Mig-Miguel~!" You cried out.
Miguel licked his lips as you squirted against his hand and your panties. His eyes sparkled as you kept apologizing. You tried to cover your face from embarrassment, but Miguel moved your hands. He captured your lips again as he undid his pants,
"How cute. Don't be sorry, baby," He groaned as he removed your panties, "This just means that your body wants me."
"Mig-"
"Shhh, it's going to be okay, bunny. You just lemme know when to stop and I'll stop. Can't have my sweet girl cry on me,"
You felt your hear flutter towards his words. Agreeing, you spread your legs for him, awaiting for him to sweep you away. Miguel kissed your neck as he pressed his tip against your entrance. He whispered sweet nothingness in your ear,
"I'll take good care of you, baby."
--------
"How does my dick feel inside your tight hole? Does my little shy girl like being fucked like a bunny in heat?"
Miguel had you on your knees, face pressed against the floorboards of the shed as he pounded your pussy roughly. He had been ravishing your throbbing hole for only five minutes and you were on the verge of losing your mind. You were a moaning mess as Miguel slapped your ass while his thick cock bruised your cervix with each thrust.
"What happened to my shy little bunny? You're being so loud now, everyone is going to hear you. Want them to know that this pussy belongs to me, baby? Huh? Is that what you want?" Miguel asked.
"Mhm~ Y-Yes!" You cried out, gasping as he slapped himself inside you rougher, "M-Miguel!"
"That's right, cum for me, baby."
Miguel groaned lowly as your pussy sucked him in more as you squirted around his cock. That beautiful white ring that formed around his dick was a sight to see. Not giving you a chance to rest, Miguel went to chase his own high. With a low, rumbling grunt, Miguel shoved himself deep, filling your womb.
You whimpered, shaking from the feeling. Miguel took a moment to catch his breathe before pulling out and fixing his clothes. He grabbed your panties, stuffing them in his pocket before fixing your skirt and picking you up. He checked outside the side, sighing in relief since everyone was still inside.
"Let me take you home. Can't leave my girl like this, can I?" He hummed.
You nuzzled your head against his chest, quietly agreeing with him. Once Miguel arrived at his apartment, he took you into the shower with him. He made sure to carefully wash each part of your body, enjoying your reaction and expressions. You were putty in the palm of his hands.
"Miguel?" You hummed lowly as he dried you.
"Yes?"
"I think we should have more...private lessons together...Y-You know...T-To help me..." You stuttered, ignoring his smirk. Miguel pecked your lips, moving your hands away,
"You didn't have to ask."
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Waaaaaaaa, I hope you liked it! Sorry I was so late with this response again!!!
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sutorus · 1 year ago
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imagine having a sleep over at megumis and toji decides to steal you away once he finally passes out 😮‍💨 his shirts and sweats probably have cigarettes burns in them
you gave me sm toji brain rot
-🫧 anon
we gave each other toji brainrot anon 🤝 kind of a part 2 to the kinktober toji fic
WARNINGS: 18+ MDNI. f! reader, unprotected, mild daddy kink, some anal play, degradation, toji being toji
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you’re shifting on your feet, lips trapped between your teeth as you ring the doorbell. you’re early to the sleepover by a full hour.
you don’t know what you want to expect. if it’s toji, sitting on the couch, glass of some cheap shit on the armrest and hand tucked into his sweats.
or if it’s megumi, waiting at the door, bowl of popcorn by his hip and tv blasting because his dad isn’t home to scowl about the noise.
megumi does open the door. and toji does sit there.
and somehow, that’s the least likely, worst case scenario.
“hey,” megumi greets you, stepping aside to let you in.
toji doesn’t spare you a glance, so you let your eyes travel all over him. his bare feet propped up on the center table, his arm behind his head and fingers scratching his hair.
megumi notices you looking and — thankfully — only clicks his tongue, believing you’re just as irritated at his father’s presence as he is.
and are you? you’re unsure.
you don’t know how to face toji. you don’t know how to interact with him anymore, if you even should.
you sleep over at megumi’s house all the time, but right now you suddenly forgot how it even goes. do you take your shoes off at the genkan? do you leave your bag by the door?
you decide to just walk to megumi’s room wordlessly, taking the long way behind the couch as to not block toji’s view from the tv.
this doesn’t go unnoticed by either men.
megumi follows you inside, closing the door behind him and plopping down on his bed.
“so are we starting with the first movie?” he flips his laptop open. “it’s the best one, anyway.”
“uh, yeah, sure,” you sit down beside him hesitantly.
you’re just now noticing how much megumi and toji look alike and it’s freaking you out.
“what the fuck is wrong with you today?” blunt as always. blunt as toji.
“huh? dude, chill,” you lie down, placing the laptop on your lap. megumi eyes you suspiciously before lying down beside you. “i just didn’t sleep much last night.”
“right,” he says, skeptical but disinterested, and presses play.
every minute of the movie is torture — on the screen and in your head.
around the beginning of saw iii, megumi orders pizza. him, you and toji eat in silence.
complete silence. he doesn’t even look at you.
why isn’t he looking at you? you’re in your pajamas already. no bra. short shorts. you thought you’d both established that that worked on him.
toji wipes his mouth with the back of his hand and gets up, with a grunted clean up when you’re done.
it’s so frustrating, the total lack of attention, and you’re starting to get pent up. settling back down next to megumi to watch fucking saw iv and hear him question the viability of each trap drives you crazier by the minute.
when you finally tuck in for the night, you’re anything but relaxed.
what happened to “you have one more hole for me to wreck don’t you”? toji’s so full of shit, probably too drunk to even get it up tonight anyway.
it’s those angry thoughts that lull you to slumber, regret settling deep in your gut for having ever let that horrible man inside you.
not long after you fall asleep, however, you’re stirred awake, a soft, sake-soaked breeze blowing over your face.
you crack one eye open, no surprise in your gaze because who else could it be.
toji’s smirking, crouched down, eyes searching all over your sleeping form. it sends a chill down your spine.
what do you want, you mouth to him, anger persisting against the arousal already starting to build within you.
his grin grows wider, wilder. he gets up slowly and beckons with two fingers, and like the silly fucking slut you are, you follow.
you — not toji — make sure to gingerly close the door to megumi’s room before you turn around to face him. or rather, face his chest, the flimsy cloth littered with cigarette burns that covers those muscles you finally got to know so well.
“hello?” is all you can manage to say.
he loves your indignation, loves the brattiness, will love to fuck it out of you tonight, too.
“what, don’t want it?”
you roll your eyes.
“you had to wait until megumi’s right there to say you wanna do it?” your focus wavers as he runs his hands up and down your waist. “you couldn’t have pulled me aside before?”
toji presses his leer to the side of your throat, caging you in against the wall right by the door. you let out a soft moan, hands already reaching for his arms.
“had to make sure you two weren’t gettin’ it on,” he growls into the crock of your neck, making you grimace in disgust. “i don’t like to share my toys, y’know.”
“ew, he’s your son,” the irony in your statement isn’t lost on you, the person you should actually be ewing at.
you push him away and the feeling of his abs under your palms is enough to break any rest of resolve you had in you.
toji lets out a low, satisfied laugh, throwing his head back. “exactly why i worry.”
soon enough, and unsusprisingly, he has you bent over the kitchen island, pussy stretched out and dripping on his thick cock.
“shut the fuck up,” he keeps saying when you moan, only to fuck you harder and faster and deeper.
the furniture is digging into your belly, your forearms skidding on the top. you whine softly, angling your hips so he can hit that one spot inside you that makes you see stars.
“ohhh yeah, fuck back into me,” he grabs your hair and you let out a yelp, punished with a blow to your ass. still, you do as you’re told, the sounds of your skin slapping against his growing louder, quicker.
“t-touch me, touch me, make me cum,” you beg in a desperate whisper, head straining in his grip.
toji laughs, dragging his cock out of you slowly before plunging all the way back in.
“shut up, slut,” and god, why is that so hot to you, “last i checked you weren’t in a position to make demands.”
you whimper, trying to snake a hand down your clit to do it yourself.
suddenly, toji stops.
“ah, that reminds me,” he slowly, torturously slowly to make you feel every inch of him, pulls out of you completely. then he pokes your asshole with the head of his cock.
“no,” you say in a panicked breath, trying to turn around in his grip. “no, no, not today, definitely not right now no—“
“shhh, fuck, be quiet,” he wraps his entire forearm around your throat and brings your body into his chest, nibbling at your jaw. “you’re gonna like it.”
“i don’t want to,” it’s one last attempt, the most honest one you have. toji likes fucking with you, flustering you, that much is obvious.
but is he seriously— and without any prep, too?—
he chuckles low in his throat, right into your ear.
“then ask me not to.”
he slides the tip back into your cunt and you relax a little, even moving your hips back and forth like hey! look how good my pussy is! can you just stay in it and not ruin my ass please!
“please don’t fuck my ass,” you try.
“hmm,” he hums, sliding his cockhead out. then back in. then back out.
“please, toji, don’t fuck my asshole tonight,” you clench around him, trying to take more of his length inside.
“not good enough, whore,” he slams all way back in, shoving your body into the sharp wood and making you wail. toji starts moving, fucking little noises out of you with every thrust. “say, ‘no please daddy not there, not my little asshole!’”
you let out a long, pitchy whine, clawing at the arm around your neck.
“do it or else,” toji gathers up some wetness at your entrance with your thumb and presses it to your asshole, rubbing little wet circles.
“fuck you, toj—ahh,” his finger slips inside and you clench down hard. “please! please daddy not there, not my—“
toji cackles, fucking you in earnest now, plowing every word and thought out of your brain. you’re grunting with the force of his thrusts, finding purchase in the edges of the kitchen island, knuckles turning white.
“such a good little girl, aren’t ya,” he says into the shell of your ear, snaking a hand around your hip to rub your puffy clit.
you throw your head back onto his shoulder, legs shaking in between his. “ahhh, fuck, d-daddy—“
your orgasm washes over you so forcefully that you feel like folding in two, going limp in toji’s grip as he chases his own.
he buries a few low, animalistic grunts into your hair before he’s filling up your cunt, aborted little thrusts pushing out staccato breaths from his lips.
he releases his grip on you, cock still spurting out the rest of his load.
once he pulls out, toji keeps feeding his cum into your pussy over and over, telling you to watch the floors before you have to limp your way to the bathroom to clean up.
you do the best you can without taking a shower, body so thoroughly exhausted that you don’t even know if you’d have the energy for one.
right now, all you want is to plop down on a soft surface and get some much needed sleep, feeling actually satisfied.
when you leave the bathroom, you’re faced with a groggy, disheveled megumi standing by his bedroom door.
your eyes quickly scan your surroundings.
toji is nowhere to be seen.
megumi’s eyes reveal nothing, none of the thoughts that might be going through his head right now.
as for you, there’s only one word bouncing around inside your skull:
fuck.
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a/n sorry again
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cillianhead · 1 year ago
Note
Your Thomas Shelby's younger inexperienced wife and you are both experimenting in the bedroom and he lets you choke him 🥵
Oh absolutely...!
God I can't wait to write this. Thank you for your request! I hope you like it :-)
Show Me How Much You Need Me || Thomas Shelby x Reader
Part One!
Warnings: SMUT, unprotected P in V, choking, light spanking i guess??, face slapping, age gap, degrading language, swearing / vulgar language, kinda mild breeding kink, daddy kink, squirting, mild overstimulation sort of, oral sex (f receiving), arranged marriage, very very very very vague implications of dubcon sort of but like not really but just be warned! adult content. (sorry if I missed any warnings)
18+ Minors DNI
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To your parents, being unmarried at the age of twenty was absolutely unacceptable. So on your birthday, they had men lining up around the block, both old and young alike, hoping to be your husband. Now there were some good candidates, not that you had a choice in who you were going to marry. Your parents were control freaks, deciding they were going to decide for you. But as soon as Thomas Shelby walked into the room, cigarette hanging loosely out of his lips, a trail of smoke following him and a huge wad of cash in hand and then tossing it down in front of my parents, acting like he owned the place... You knew no one else stood a chance.
Now you'd been married for a month, Tommy was an insatiable man. He got what he wanted when he wanted. You remember the look in his eyes on your wedding night when you told him you were a virgin, he nearly came in his trousers at the thought of your tight pussy. You've had sex pretty much twice a day or more ever since, he couldn't keep his hands off of you. Tommy showed you how to fuck, how to suck his cock, showed you how to please a man. Of course, the only man you would ever be allowed to please would be Tommy himself. You were hesitant to marry him, you were also slightly afraid of him but as you got to know each other, got to spend more time together as husband and wife, you appreciated his company, and you could even see yourself beginning to love him. But lately the sex between you had started to die down, Tommy being busy dealing with the peaky blinders and all their drama, you'd only have sex every other day or so. Which for you guys, wasn't a lot. But you knew he was tired, it wasn't cause he wasn't attracted to you anymore.
It was pouring rain outside as you both quietly sat in bed, Tommy read his novel quietly, glasses sitting on the edge of his nose while you brushed through your hair, topless and only in some thin white panties for him. There was a visible wet patch from your arousal, you were always wet when you were near Tommy, he just had that affect over you. He thought it was cute how easily excitable you are. You were incredibly needy, now that you'd had a taste of what it was like to have sex, you were constantly asking for it, constantly trying to get his attention. Poor little inexperienced thing you were.
"Tommy," You whined, placing your hairbrush on the bedside table and then leaning over, pressing your face into his neck. "Pay attention to me..."
Tommy let out an amused huff, turning another page of his book, not bothering to even spare one glance at you. "What do y'need, love?" He asked gruffly, reaching his spare arm and wrapping it around you, pulling you into him. He knew exactly what you needed, he just wanted to hear you say it. The way you got embarrassed and shy was incredibly sexy to him.
"Need you..." You whispered, placing kisses along the column of his throat.
"Gotta be more specific than that," He closed his book, finally setting it aside along with his glasses. "What do you need from me?"
"I need... you..." You were flustered, burying your face in his bare chest but he grabbed you by the nape of the neck like you were a kitten and pulled your head up, forcing you to look at him. "I need you to fuck me... Tommy..."
"Is that so?" He chuckled, running a thumb over your bottom lip which you innocently popped into your mouth, swirling your tongue around the digit. You weren't doing intentionally to turn him on, you just liked the way it felt to suck on something, especially if that something was Tommy's thumb. But the sight was suggestive, Tommy wished it was his cock in your mouth instead. "Fuckin' hell, alright, sit in me lap, I'll give you what ye need."
You continued sucking on his thumb, keeping eye contact with him as he pulled down his sleep shorts and pulled down your underwear. "Go on then, take what ya came here for." Tommy pulled his wet thumb away, shoving it between your folds and rubbing your clit, making you weak in the knees. He had so much power over you. So you grabbed onto his shoulders before holding the head of his dick before lining up with the leaky tip and sinking down on him. You watched his eyes roll into the back of his head as you squeezed around him. "Easy, girl." He warned, his cock twitching inside you, he could cum from just how tight you were. God he fucking loved that his cock was the only one you'd ever taken, loved the way you stretched around him.
"Fuck... so deep..." You sat on him for just a moment, adjusting to the feeling. Even though you'd taken him plenty of times, your cunt just hadn't gotten use to the sheer size and girth of him. It made you feel like you were being torn open in the most beautiful way possible. "T-Tommy..."
"Ride me, slut, go on... show me how much you need me." He slapped your ass harshly before grabbing a handful of it and encouraging your hips to start grinding against him. "Such a pretty girl."
You moved your hips back and forth, a bit shy at first as you did so but as more and more pleasure began to build in your stomach, your dignity went out the window as you began desperately bouncing on his cock. Tommy had never seen you so hungry for it before, he just leaned back against the bed, his hands gripping your waist as you took what you wanted.
Your tits bounced right in front of his face and Tommy thought to himself this was the greatest view in the world. His pretty little wife fucking herself and her perfect tits moving in sync with her movements. He let out gravelly groans as you sunk back down on him, sweaty, you froze for a moment to catch your breath. This was still all so new to you, still such an innocent little thing. You still need Tommy's help to get off sometimes, not quite strong enough yet to ride him all on your own.
"Tommy..." You whispered with a small whine. "Need your help..." Your flushed cheeks and blown out pupils were a sign of how lost in the moment you were. He just smiled as he pushed you down onto your back and threw your legs over his shoulders. His cock pressing even deeper into your pussy, somehow. You could feel him in your stomach.
"This what you want, little girl?" He hummed as he started to fuck in and out of you, impaling you on his dick. "Want me to fuck you like the slut you are?"
You moaned, nodding dumbly as your mind went blank. "Yes! Tommy! Fuck me!" You were incredibly loud and you were lucky no one else was in the house because otherwise they'd hear how loud you were being, when usually you were quite reserved around other people. "Pl-Please put a baby in me Tommy... let me make you a daddy..."
"Fuck..." Tommy could cum at your words, "Yeah?" He panted continuing to piston in and out of you, one of his hands grabbed roughly at your tits, playing with your hard nipple. "Gonna breed you like the bitch that you are." You moaned at his words, arching your back further into him as he gave you another harsh spank to your asscheeks.
"Tommy... gonna cum... please... don't stop!" You sounded like a pornstar, Tommy leaned down and kissed you.
"My pretty little wife," His voice was vibrating through you, the gravel of it making you even wetter. The sound of his cock slipping in and out of your sopping little cunt echoed throughout the room as he leaned down even further and connected his lips to yours once again. He felt your fingers curl around his neck, both hands wrapped around his throat, Tommy was never one to get flustered but the idea of you choking him made his hips stutter as you squeezed around him a bit. "Fuck..." He moaned lowly as you held onto his neck. You looked so sweet in that moment. "Such a stupid little girl, when you're full of cock, don't even know what ye doin, eh?" He fucked into you more, feeling you squeeze around him. Your hands held onto his throat as if you were holding him on a leash.
You were a writhing mess, shaking underneath him, only choking him further. You looked at how pretty he looked with your hands wrapped around his throat and how flushed his face was, hair sticking to his sweaty forehead as his hips bruised your pelvis. "Daddy...!" You moaned out, experimentally, waiting to see his reaction. You had always fantasized about calling him it but you were always too nervous to do so. But right now you were drunk on the pleasure, too fucked out to care.
"Fuck... say that again... gonna fuckin' fill you up, love." Tommy was just as desperate as you now, chasing his own high as you started to convulse around him, your orgasm unraveling, he lightly slapped you across the face, hard enough to break you out of your daze but not enough to actually do any damage. "Fuckin' do what I say!" You clenched tighter around him, cumming even harder at the sound of him yelling at you. Him being angry at you shouldn't be so hot but it was.
"Sorry... s-sorry... daddy!" You sobbed out as you gushed around his cock that began leaking cum. "Please... cum in me, please daddy..."
"That's right, baby..." He was rutting into you now, hips moving into you hard yet slow. "I'm yer daddy." He let out a deep mewl as he came inside you, making you moan even louder, your voice hoarse and your throat sore as you let go of his throat, collapsing your arms back. Tommy fucked his cum deep into you despite the sensitivity of his cock. Slowly pulling out of you, he pushed your legs against your chest to look down at the slick between your legs. A little bit of cum dripped out of your stretched out hole, earning you two fingers pushing it back into you, you just whimpered, a bit overstimulated.
"Think I gotta get a taste of your pussy now, love," He hummed getting down on his tummy, face aligned perfectly as he moved his fingers in a 'come hither' movement. You gasped, he was hitting your g-spot each time.
"Fuck, tommy!"
"Eh, that's not me name right now." He looked at you warningly before unhinging his jaw and attaching his hot mouth to your sensitive clit again.
"Oh daddy! 'S too much, too much... please..." You couldn't tell if you wanted him to stop or to keep going, it was all too much for your brain to comprehend. You were seeing hot flashes of white, your body going completely limp as another orgasm washed over you, rendering you helpless to the pleasure that was consuming you from the inside out. "D-Daddy..." You dumbly moaned.
"Tastes so fuckin good, keep cummin' on my face." His nose brushed your clit as he licked up your juices and you came again and again and again. Extremely overstimulated. "Just gimme one more, baby then I'll leave you alone." You were unresponsive, nodding your head weakly, wanting to be good for him. "Such a good girl for daddy, aren't ya?" He made out with your gushing sex, adding a third finger.
And suddenly you felt it burst out of you, drenching his hair, face, and the sheets underneath you. Squirting all over his face and just as you thought it was over, it just kept on coming. Your mouth agape in a silent scream of pleasure, he drank it all up, continuing to slurp at your pussy until it finally ended. He pulled away, leaning back on his ankles, Tommy had a very pleased look on his face, your squirt dripping down his chin and his chest sticky with your cum and the sheets soaking wet. "That was the best bloody thing to ever happen to me." He huffed, licking his wet fingers. You laid there, tears streaming down your face and twitching gently, still coming down. He laid down beside you. "You did so good f'me, so good, you're alright, I'm here."
He held you as you continued to shake, waiting for you to calm down a bit. "I've never done that before..." You whimpered, pussy throbbing, full of cum, and sopping wet.
He gave you a loud genuine laugh, still sticky with your juices as he kissed you. "I'm gonna make you squirt over and over and over again every time we fuck now, just so you know."
You giggled at his words, he was gonna be the death of you.
-
I know there wasn't a whole lot of 'experimenting' or choking so i'm sorry! But I hope you enjoyed anyway!!
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seventhemaverick · 1 year ago
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Astro Observations 🌱
Disclaimer: This is my first Astrology post! I tried to do this earlier this year but tumblr lagged and it deleted all of my hard work lol. But now I’ve gained the courage to give it another go! I’m not a professional astrologer. I just study it in depth when I have time. Still very much a beginner. Please be kind and if I’m misinformed let me know! If you want to repost my work please credit me. This also has personal opinions in here don’t take it too seriously babes!
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🌾 I don’t typically think Leo’s and Scorpios go together romantically BUT any other relationship outside of that exudes power team. For ex: Kylie and Kris Jenner. Scorpios are known to love power and Leo’s love the spotlight! Kylie was bound to be a favorite after her « ugly duckling » phase. Kylie rolls in the dough and Kris keeps that empire going. I’ve seen many Scorpio parents with Leo kids and they really seem to love them the most lol
Let’s talk about underdeveloped placements real quick!
🌿 Having a parent that is toxic or underdeveloped and has placements that fall into your second house can obliterate your self worth. ESPECIALLY if you have planets in that house and their placements are exactly conjunct 0° or 1-3°.
🌾 If your mars sign is exactly square one of your parents mars or 1-5° orb… 🌚 take the steps to move out if you haven’t already it’s for the best.
🌿 Capricorn moons I wish I could hug all of you. You had to grow up so fast and got handed some of the worst cards. But nevertheless resilience is your middle name. As you age things will get easier if you stand on business! Integrity is key.
🌾 I know libras are known to be superficial or whatever and I’m kinda one of them lol. I literally live off of aesthetics and I typically have nice skin but when I have a massive break out? I literally want to hide until they’re gone. My stress is next level when I don’t look my best.. I’m also a Leo Venus 😅 in the tenth house at that and have cancelled plans when I look and feel shitty.
🌿 All of the air signs almost always value intellectual stimulation first from their partner. Someone they can have great rapport, banter with. Someone that’s witty and knows a wide variety of subjects or has many interests is very hot. Sagittarius is the air sign of the fire signs so I’ll loop them in on this too.
If we lost any zodiac element, it would bring chaos to the entire world.
🌾 Air brings logic and reasoning, water brings compassion and empathy, earth brings grounding and patience, fire brings passion and vitality. Life is about interconnectedness.
🌿 I remember reading a blog that the gods put the constellation of Libra in between Virgo and Scorpio because they were too much alike and it’s so true lol. Both signs can be so compulsive and it’s overwhelming from what I’ve heard from Virgo and Scorpio placements. I can also see this easy going equivalence being the case for Sagittarius being in between Scorpio and Capricorn. The benefics happy go luckies in between the malefics drained and over it.
🌾… moon 3rd house overlay is addictive especially combined with 7th/8th/12th overlays in that synastry. I don’t think I can ever do that again unless we both have it overlaying each others charts. Someone’s moon in your 3rd house, their mind fascinates you and it’s easy to communicate with them you feel seen and heard. You dream about them, you think about them all the freaking time. It is the most annoying thing because why are you taking up my brain space like that bro? I had this with someone and I still think about them it’s been over for quite some time now. Another person that’s in love with me, my moon falls into their 3rd house and they tell me how much they think about me and day dream about me. I had said issue of daydreaming with the other guy. 2/10 would not recommend unless moon person is developed.
🌿 When the moon transits your first house you’re more likely to be more emotional and make drastic changes to your physical features! When Doja Cat shaved her head the moon was transiting her first house and I literally did mine the next day when it was transiting my first house.
🌾 Opinion but I love Pisces placements they are so helpful and loving when developed. I think the underdeveloped ones are too but they expect something out of it where the developed ones are just really selfless. I’m a Pisces Stan! I have so many in my life lol I have no Pisces placements. My 5H is in Pisces lol
🌿 Degree theory is that gworl. It helps you relate to the planet and it’s placement more depending on what the degree rules. For example I was dating a Sagittarius Venus in the 9th house at the 9° and he embodied that free spirited nature of Sag Venus fr. Another example, you can be a Pisces Venus but it’s in your first house at the first degree and the way you love embodies a more aries way of loving. Fiery, passionate a bit aggressive but very deep and tender to the core.
🌾 I’ve also heard the theory of when you reach the age of certain degrees of the placements you have you unlock that placements characteristics. Something significant happens to you during that age or you might master that placement regarding the planet and house placement.
🌿 The degree of your rising sign is more than likely the age of something significant happen in your physical life/to you physically. This is tea y’all.
🌾 You most likely share placements or degrees in your chart with your siblings. My sister is a Scorpio sun, Aries rising, Virgo moon and I’m a Libra sun, Scorpio rising, Aries moon. If I was born two days earlier I would’ve been a Virgo sun and if she was born one or two days later she would’ve been a Libra moon. So I think thats pretty cool. We’re also both Venus dominant and she has a Libra stellium 💗. You really choose your family for your next life lol like that’s so crazy to me.
🌿 Ima say dis with my chest. STOP doing wrong by Saturn ruled placements!!! Saturn is ruled by Capricorn, Aquarius in traditional astrology and we cannot forget about its exalted sign in Libra. As a Libra, I receive karma with the quickness but also people that have done wrong by me their quality of life decreases and or whichever house Saturn is in their chart is deeply affected in the worst ways.. daddy Saturn don’t play bout his! Be fair and follow the golden rule. “Do unto others as you would have them do unto you.”
🌾 Having heavy Sagittarius placements in your chart makes you open to learn different languages or different cultures.. just always wanting to learn. Whatever house it’s in you want to master in life.
🌿 The mutables Gemini Virgo Sagittarius Pisces love their niches, they are the teachers and preachers of the zodiac.
🌾 Geminis have the gift of gab more than any other zodiac. Sagittarius could possibly go toe to toe with them
🌿 If anyone ever tries to degrade you for studying astrology and eggs you on to prove this practice to be true, get their birth info and read them their Chiron sign and house placement. Hit ‘em where it hurts!
🌾 Scorpio and Libra placements are usually the generational trauma breakers of their family. Honorable mention- Saturns children, Capricorn and Aquarius
🌿 An undeveloped Capricorn placement that enters your life is literally satan reincarnated to torture you for whatever you did wrong in your past life. And I (if u were raised around Christianity) believe Jesus was a Pisces/Aries! I can argue about this all day! In tarot Capricorn rules the devil! Like hellooooo
🌾 Sixth house/Virgo placements are pretty good at taking care of pets and plants. They feel the most sane around nature and animals.
🌿 Personal planets harmoniously aspected to Neptune make the person seem very angelic like. Very soft souls, earth angels. Hard aspects have people having an even more distorted projection of you.
🌾 Personal planets harmoniously aspected or not to Uranus gives you that shock factor some people will be repelled and some people will be very intrigued.
🌿 Aries placements especially sun and moon are really loyal! I’m talking mostly platonically. Once they see you as their person they are truly ride or die.
🌾 Cancer placements can be one of the most loving and giving when developed. Some spiteful mfs when underdeveloped omg.
🌿 I realize cancer placement women get treated with the cutest romantic gestures. I think they lovers want to do these things for them because they give off ethereal or princess vibes but they’re also real nasty in the sheets lol
🌾 Cancers don’t really get a bad rep even when they do shady things. For example: Selena Gomez when she dated Abel even tho she was cool with Bella was super weird. And I think a lot of people forgot how Kevin hart cheated on his wife like it was nothing lol. Ariana grande with the donuts and now the Ethan thing chileee. It’s like they get a second of backlash and then everyone adores them again lol.
🌿 Having a grand trine in your chart can make you so damn lazy in the houses those planets/figures are in 🥹🥲. It’s crazy cuz that talent(s) will come natural to you and you’ll over look it! Please don’t.
🌾 Grand squares are TOUGH but it pushes you to break cycles and overcome so much in your life. Same with t-squares
🌱 Astrology is really a map. It shows you which path you can take and where you can end up when you include discernment and discipline into your daily life. It’s never an excuse to behave the way you do. Ultimately it helps us reach our most aligned and enlighten self! I hope you all enjoyed. 🌱
Idk why I can’t figure out how to delete this question thing so let’s do a cute lil questionnaire!
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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 5 months ago
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The Quiet Ones 8
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No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.
Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.
This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.
Summary: You live a quiet life, but your peace is fractured by a chaotic man.
Characters: Lloyd Hansen, short!shy!reader
Note: it's hump dayyyy.
As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me <3
Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Asking for more or putting ‘part 2?’ is not feedback.
Love you all. You are appreciated and your are worthy. Treat yourself with care. 💖
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Lloyd drags you away as you hear the disgusted muttering of his parents. You try to tug free but he’s too strong. Even if he did let go, where would you go? Your ankles nearly bend in the heels as he urges you to the stairs and you stumble into his back. 
“Aw, baby,” he faces you, “don’t get ahead of yourself. We’ll get there.” 
Before you can react, he scoops you up. You cry out, the dregs of your bile burn your throat. You make a face at the smell. He’s hardly bothered as he turns to continue up the staircase. 
“Damn, jelly bean,” he snarls as you feel his heart racing, “I knew you were a freak underneath it all. The way you just dug right in. Like an animal. Feral,” he snickers and kisses the top of your head as he gets to even ground, “we’re more alike than you know, aren’t we?” 
You gulp and say nothing. You’re disgusted as much by yourself as him. All that and for what? You’re still stuck with this madman. How on earth did he even notice you? By his parents’ suggestion, you’re far from his type. 
“Urgh, I don’t feel good,” you rub your stomach and wriggle in his grasp. It would be a good excuse to get away, or at least some space.  
“That’s alright, jelly bean, you let me take care of you,” he carries you breezily down the hall, his footsteps jaunty. You put your hand on his shoulder to steady yourself and his blue eyes flick down to the diamond ring, “fuck, that looks amazing on you. I’ll look just as good on you.” 
He laughs at his slimy joke but it only unsettles you. Even with barf on your breath and steak in your teeth, you can’t deter him. You’ve tried everything; ignoring him, waiting him out to the point of starvation, and making a fool of yourself. Your hope dwindles to a single strand, ready to snap. 
He takes you into the bedroom and through to the adjoining bathroom. The shining marble and gleaming golden accoutrements reflect the overhead light in a pristine sheen. He places you down on the counter so your legs dangle over the edge and he puts his hands on your shoulders. 
“Don’t take it to heart, bean, mom and dad are just like that. You’ll always be good enough for me,” he winks and shifts over to the sink.  
You watch him, helpless. You know better than to hop off in those heels and twist your ankle. He fills a clear cup with porcelain and wets a toothbrush before adding minty paste. He holds them out to you and you accept them wordlessly. The sparkle of the ring makes you wince. 
“I’m their son and they don’t really like me. Sometimes I wonder why they even had me...” he sighs and flicks the cup lightly with his finger. 
You put the brush in your mouth and scrub your teeth. It’s a good excuse not to reply. You don’t really get this man. He’ll kidnap a woman then spill his heart out like you care. Still, knowing how his parents are, you can piece together how he got to this point. 
“You get me, jelly bean. I know you got no parents and sometimes, I feel the same--” 
You choke and pull the brush from your mouth. You swig with the cup and lean over to spit into the sink. You sneer at him, a genuine wave of anger rising in you, “how do you know that?” 
Surprise washes over him at your reaction. He shrugs and hooks his thumbs in his pockets, “well, of course, I had to learn everything about you, honey. To take care of you. Tie up any loose ends hanging off of you--” 
“What the... you...” you scrunch your brow up and shake your head. You feel even sicker. “You’re not going to stop, are you?” 
“Stop?” He smirks, “stop what?” 
You sigh and put the brush back in your mouth. You scrape away the taste of vomit and rinse your mouth again. He takes the cup and brush and puts them aside for you. He comes back to stand in front of you. 
“Your special, bean. I gotta keep you safe. I mean, look how easy I just waltzed in, imagine what a really bad guy could do,” he frames your face with his hand, “just look at you...” he squeezes your jaw tightly so you can’t pull away, “so small and cute and... delicious. I bet you taste as sweet as a jelly bean, huh?” 
His other hand tickles your side and he steps closer, wiggling his way between your knees your legs splay wide. The skirt strains around your thighs as he grips your hip more firmly. He purrs and leans in, his nose tickling yours. 
You press on his chest, "your parents." 
"They can see themselves out, they always do," he slithers, "baby, I only need you." 
"Wait, I'm not-- I--" you babble as his hand slips down and his fingers curl under your ass to grope you, "Lloyd, please, we-- we aren't even married yet." 
He pauses, hovering before your lips and draws back. His mouth slants. 
"Are you an old-fashioned girl, huh? I shoulda known," he purrs, "well, I can get with that," he drops his hand from your chin, "we don't gotta go all the way." 
He brings both his hands to your hips and pulls you towards him. You fall back with the suddenness and barely catch yourself on your elbows. You squeal as he keeps your legs wide and yanks at your skirt. 
"Please, I'm not-- I'm not ready," you plead. 
"Don't worry, babe, I'll get you warmed up," he rasps as he shoves his hands up your dress, bending over you as he exposes your panties. 
"Ah, gosh," you sputter dumbly, writhing as he bows down to bury his nose against your underwear. He takes a big whiff and you exclaim, embarrassed. "Ayeee, Lloyd." 
"You smell like heaven," he lowers himself to his knees, "and I'm not a religious man, mind you." 
You clutch the edge of the counter as you slip down, propping one elbow as you fight the slipperiness of the satin. He nuzzles you, dragging his nose along the trim of your panties as his breath dampens your skin. He nips at you playfully and snarls. 
You squeal in surprise once more. The rippling sensation that radiates from his touch has you as off-kilter as your position. He feels along your thigh and hooks his hand around your other leg. He flutters his fingertips against your panties and tugs them to the side, a waft of cool air dancing over your bare lips. You wriggle again. 
"It's okay, baby, I'll be nice, just a little appetizer," he coaxes and swipes his tongue along your cunt. As you gasp, he rears back and does the same, "jelly bean, you lied to me. You are ready," he licks his lips and you look down at him, his lips already glistening. 
As he dives back in, you gulp and shut your eyes. You turn your head away as he spreads his tongue wide and laps you up. He rocks his head, tickling you deliberately with his mustache, humming into you. You whimper and slap a palm onto the marble counter top. 
He flicks up and down, swirling as you squirm and pant helplessly. As in all things, you can’t resist. Your head falls back against the mirror and you whine. How is he doing this to you? Why is he making you like this? You don’t like him, you don’t want him! 
He tilts his head all around, garbling into you hungrily as he smears your wetness all around his face. His shamelessness spikes your arousal, a new flame razing up your spine. You heave and reach down to latch onto his hair, tugging on it as he seals his lips around your clit and sucks. 
You cry out, legs quivering against his face as you try to close them. He growls and snarls eagerly, devouring you as the pressure wells up to the brim. You huff and puff, curling your spine as you try to fight the pulsing in your core. No, no, no. It’s so intense you feel the tingle in your toes. 
Your voice grows louder as your spasm and the spring overflows. You feel yourself spill into your mouth. He hums again, laughing into you as he drinks up your orgasm. You throw your arm over your face, thoroughly ashamed of your desecration. 
You slide limply down, head tilted up against the mirror, as your legs open and hang loosely. Lloyd kisses your cunt before he pulls away, making a slurping sound as your eyes slit open. You can see the wetness in his mustache. He grins proudly and sighs. 
“Fuck, jelly bean, you’re just like candy,” his eyes drift back to your exposed cunt. 
You try to close your legs and he catches your knees. Holding them open. He tuts and pokes his tongue out, once more licking up the slickness around his lips. You cringe and push yourself up on your elbows. 
“You want me to wait for all that?” He growls, “damn, baby, you must be a sadist, making me hurt so much.” 
He traces his fingers up your thighs and pinches until you squeak. He clucks and reaches past you to the counter. He pulls himself to his feet and you see the bulge in his pants. He rubs his hand across the obvious outline and he shudders. 
“You don’t gotta do anything, just let me look at you while I play with it, how about it?” 
He doesn’t wait for your permission. In that moment, you can’t speak. Even if you could, you don’t even know what you would say. He unbuckles his belt and pushes down his zipper. He’s trembling as he frees himself, his swollen top poking out of his fly. He crumples the top of his pants as he shoves them down impatiently. 
“Show me your ass, I just wanna see it,” he grabs himself and groans, “ah, shit, please, jelly bean, I’m begging you. You want me back on my knees?” He kneels again, stroking himself slowly, “please, turn over, baby, promise I won’t touch.” He moans, “can’t you hear how much pain I’m in? For you?” 
You slide down, feet touching the cold tile. You flutter your lashes, legs shaking. You’re weak and senseless. You can’t look at him. You turn and he groans again. He sounds agonized. 
He chuffs out air as you hear him pumping himself. You hang your head, leaning on your arms as he pulls up your skirt. He whines as he reveals your bare ass around the slender string of the thong. You’re roiling in humiliation and something else. 
“Shit, shit, shit, baby, you are... immaculate,” he grits, “where-- where do you want me to come?” 
“Huh?” You utter. 
“Fuck, too late,” he lets out a roar, punctured by deep huffs, petering out to a pathetic panting that leaves him droning. 
You stay as you are, hiding as your heartbeat slows and the coil inside you loosens little by little. You pull your skirt down, skin scoured in shame, and face him. He sits on his knees still, head down as his dick twitch and slowly softens. You try not to look at it. 
He lifts his head to you, his cheeks flush and his hair askew. He looks around with his foggy eyes and chuckles, “well, it’s good we’re in here, huh? We can get cleaned up.” 
You just stare at him. You’re mortified. You can’t believe what he just did. To you. Then after. And you just laid there. You think... you think you had an orgasm. 
“Let me...” he begins and wobbles before he can plant a foot on the floor. He stands stiffly, not bothering to hide his dick. You ignore the way it flops.  
He turns and goes to the tub. The top of his ass peaks out of his crooked pants. He’s absolutely ridiculous. He the last kind of person you would ever associate with. Not that you talk to anyone, but he is not anyone you would dare to speak to. Yet he has made himself your personal pest. 
He bends over the large tub and cranks it on. You peek over at the door. How loud were you? Were his parents still there to hear you? You frown and raise a foot then lower it again. Your instinct to run fights with your logic. You know you won’t get far, not on jelly legs and not from him. 
The water spills out and he stands, backing away as he rubs his lower back. He strips off his jacket and rolls his shoulders. He turns back and lays it across the other end of the counter. He unbuttons his shirt and looks over at you. 
“Come on, jelly bean, unless you like a bit of zest, I don’t mind it,” he pokes his tongue out at you, “extra flavour and all. 
You let your disgust singe through and curl your lip. He laughs. He drops his shirt and nears. He turns you to face him as your skirt drapes back over your legs. He guides the straps down your shoulders. He shimmies the sheath down your body, his fingers grazing your skin cloyingly. You shiver as bumps raise on your skin. 
“You been hiding, jelly bean, well I’m about to bring you right out of that shell,” he smirks, “if there’s one thing to know about Lloyd Hansen, there’s no walls that can keep him out. I’m gonna tear yours right down.” 
245 notes · View notes
r0-boat · 3 months ago
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Can I request a scenario with the WHB kings? (and any noble/s of your choice if you feel like it)
Them and gn!reader in a cramped space but reader is claustrophobic 🤔 it would've been a spicy scenario with them being smooshed together and all that but reader ain't having fun at all (possibly close to tears or already crying or panicking)
dropping by cuz it's been a while since i've shrimped around your ask box
- 🦐
This is like prime Levi shit...
Motherfucker would force you in his coffin to fuck you But this time we're taking a spin
Naga!whbLeviathan
Cw: noncon, MC is not having it, fucking in a tight space, with claustrophobia, breeding, Levi has two dicks, monster fucking, drugging venom aphrodisiac?
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You're so likable... He hates it... And he knows why a pathetic human like you is so irresistible to monsters and your kind alike, as male and females block to you like moths to a bright light.
And here he was, his body aching as you're blissfully unaware of the pain and heat stirring in his belly and loins; he keeps his pain and suffering silent as he watches you laugh and flash your sweet smile at monsters that don't deserve such a privilege.
As his sense of smell heightens, everything that he wants claimed now reeks of tiger, dragon, insect even centaur... The only thing he has left is your closet which he had retreated into your closet,your once neatly fold and hanging clothes in a pile on the floor that is now his nest. Nestling against his coils and your familiar scented clothes rubbing his all over it. Now all he needs is you.
He knew you entered your bedroom He could smell you, as well as a lingering scent of something else something that irritated him. He listened closely as you stepped closer to your closet. Soon as you open that door he pounced grabbing on to you and pulling you into the dark corner rapping himself around you. He was salivating at your soft skin against him.
You for freaking out Your eyes wide as you were dragged into a tight space, having claustrophobia intense fear of small spaces you begged and screamed for Leviathan to let you go. But the Naga only covered your mouth with his hand before peppering your neck with soft kisses.
"I love you human mate with me."He murmured softly ignoring your struggles, another the other night with him This would be a rare moments where he confessed his true feelings of how he felt. But of course you consumed by fear didn't even care as you struggle to fight him struggle to break free which pissed him off.
"smell like animal. And you fight me... Do you not want to be mine? Who else is there that's you have been claimed by? I will claim you, breed you, brand you; make you forever mine."
He snarled his husky words tickling your ear as he begins to rip your clothing to pieces.
You streak and squirm against his coils as he turns you around to laugh up your tears with his tongue.
Even now you fight him... Is it because there's another? Is it one of the other animals stinking up the house? Or is it that human friend that he hates so much. He nuzzles his head into your neck taking in your familiar scent the other scent you have on you so muddled that he can barely recognize who it is. His fangs graze against your neck, gently piercing your skin giving you a dose of his venom. Not much just enough to slow your squirming and make you aroused enough to slide inside you.
"whoever you think your mate is, they do not compare to me."
His fingers play with his sheath as his cocks threaten to come out.
He strokes his cocks in his hand His gray eyes looking at you with love and lust. Every time you struggle he strangles you harder trapping you in tight coils.
"You are squirming more than usual. Do you really hate me that much? No matter, I'll make you mine. It is not your choice to make."
You could feel the venom going through your veins It is cold and makes your skin tingle as your skin becomes more sensitive, despite being trapped in the tight space of the closet and his coils the feeling of smooth scales rubbing against your skin is irresistible. You want to break free to get out but at the same time you want to rub yourself against him more.
With his strong tail he lifts one of your legs up placing it over his shoulder his fingers play with your hole before gently pushing one of his cocks inside.
As much as he wants to, he could not think good conscious rip you apart with his two cocks. He cannot hurt you like that, Even though he is already hurting you, but he does not know of your fear of tight spaces.
He could hear your rapid breathing, You're short rabbit breaths make his shake as the tip of his tail reaches your throat, wrapping it around it to squeeze. That hitch in your breath makes his cock twitch. As he stays inside of you, waiting for you to adjust to his size.
Your tight, squeezing walls make him want to thrust, So he does so, pressing himself deeper inside you. Then, when you moan his name, confirmation that he could go further, that's when he continues, bucking his hips and moving himself deeper his coils constricting and dilating with each thrust but his tail keeping the same pressure around your throat. And his other dick rubbing against you as the other one pounds inside of you deeper and deeper.
Your mind screams at you to get out of his consuming grasp, But your body craves the tight squeeze of his coils.
Leviathan's mind becomes muddled by his consuming heat as he begins to move faster. Grabbing both of your legs folding them over your shoulders too get you in a better position to pound down into you. His breath shakes as he moans a mantra of words
"Mate, mate, mate. Take it, take it, take it, mine, mine, mine, mine."
His cock rubbing against you while his deep inside of you hitting your sensitive spots make you cum, your walls squeezing around him, milking him. The naga's eyes roll back into his head as he cums inside of you with a roar. Yelling and moaning is he grinds himself deeper filling you up to the brim with his seed.
You don't know what happened after that perhaps you passed out, perhaps you fell asleep, and his coils. But when you woke up you were on your bed with him beside you a tail wrapped around your leg. His arms around you nuzzling against your chest, when he noticed you woke up he gave you a sweet smile giving you a small kiss on your skin.
"Morning, my love." He murmured just enough for only you to hear.
The first thing you did when you woke up was beat the shit out of him.
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newkatzkafe2023 · 7 days ago
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Ok so you don't have to do this if you don't want to and you can 100% ignore this but I gotta ask. How would the Wukongs be with a Reader S/O that is a female version of the lamb from The Cult Of The Lamb? Like such an adorable sweet little lamb girl that turns out to basically be a cult leader death god, who can and will beat demons and gods alike to death with that ever innocent smile on her face.
I LOVE THIS GAME🤩🫨🤯
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(Lmk Wukong) Awwwwwww you are so cute and fluffy, he wasted no time fonding over you as you remind him of his nimbus cloud. You both hit it off as you both found each other an object of each other's interests, and you both had fun together. Then so one day when you decided to show him your big secret but then you both were suddenly attacked by another demon and Wukong was about to fight them off. The you suddenly joined in with your crown turned into a sword and switched to an Ax, which shook Wukong but not as much as how you easily. After that fight you bought Wukong to your cult as saw your alter as a lamb with blood coming out of its eyes. Wukong also finds that you being the death goddess is as awesome as it is scary😥
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(MKR Wukong) Ohhhhhhhhhh man, he feels something odd about you, like you're hiding something, and he's gonna find out what it is. You were way too kind, too caring, too innocent looking, and the fact that you were patient with freaking pigsy of ALL PEOPLE. You were also ever so adorable on the outside, but their is something sinister on the inside, That when he found your cult, your well organized cult, and the crazy part is you were not only the leader, but the one they worship. The death goddess that is you!!!! when he found that you are a powerful woman who could slaughter monster with an innocent look on your face. He wonders if he can join you, and if your interested in marriage.
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(HIB Wukong) He's also a bit suspicious of you but you showed nothing but kindness to both him and his children, you even go out your way to protect them and fight off monsters and other demons. Then one day he saw that the children were missing, and he was rightfully pissed knowing that you had something to do with it and was ready to tear you apart. Imagine his shock when he found you preying with Luier to an alter shaped Exactly like you and silly girl was sitting quietly Something She never did before. That's how Wukong found out about your cult to the death goddess AKA you.
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(NR Wukong) Fluffy couples you both so cute together, He met and flirted with you when met you by a hardware store. You blushed a baa at him making him a purr at how cute you are, but it's not like he hasn't seen a cult before. Still imagine his surprise Pikachu face when he saw you running your cult with Corrupted teaching and magic that is not of his world at all. Wukong is not sure if he should be scared or majorly impressed with how you successfully run things, it's not often he meets a woman with authority.
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(Netflix Wukong) OOOOOOOOOkkkkkkkk so he may have had been hit by cute aggression when you both first met, you were just soooooo cute and fluffy sitting on a log looking like a cloud that fell from the sky. He found himself sitting next to you shooting a few pick up lines, and Bragging about himself to you as you sat and smiled at him. You both always met in the same spot everyday sometimes with snacks as you listen to him talk but one day he was going to meet you like usual and got into an altercation with another demon Who was ridiculously strong for some reason. That's when you joined and absolutely destroyed that guy making his jaw drop that's when you finally bought him to your cult which freaked him out but he's also kinda jealous that they worship you as the death goddess.
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(BMW Wukong) Ohhhhhhhhhh yeah love at first sight with him especially when he found out how deadly you actually are. You had such an innocent face looking up at him and he was smirking down thinking you were nervous around him, but oh that was not the case at all you were actually sizing him up to see if he was a good enough cult member. When he did find out you run a cult and you are actually a death goddess, their was no getting rid of him now he loves a deadly woman with authority and Deception🤤🤤🤤
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(Destined one) Oh god two beings staring into each other's souls in silence, it creeps Bajie out to this day. Though the destined one immediately knew something is up with you as you had a dark aura around you despite your innocent smile and face. The Destined one found himself to be right as we demonstrated impeccable combat skills and abilities with an arsenal of weapons to beat monster and demons with. Then it definitely gets crazy when you let him to know that you run your own cult, not to mention your the death goddess which explains alot honestly. One thing's for sure the Destined one is happy to find a girl to creep peopleout with😊.
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FEEL FREE TO REBLOG🐑🐐
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i-smoke-chapstick · 8 months ago
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Hi! Plz may I request smth super smutty and likely weird with the Valeska twins and a dom reader? (Hell, make it poly if you want!😏😉 if not, separate is also fine🥰 ) I just love the thought of those two getting fucked senseless, they'd be so pretty 😘 maybe including but by no means limited to: pegging, slight mommy kink, edging, over stim, bondage... etc... and followed up by some really fluffy aftercare 🥰
As for a song, my brain keeps going back to Mz. Hyde by Halestorm. So that, I guess!
‘MZ. HYDE,
-GOTHAM!VALESKA TWINS X READER-
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⋆ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒 ; The Valeska twins meet their match ;)
⋆ tags/warnings. GOTHAM!valeska twins x female reader. SMUT!!! wrote hcs ahh!! FemDom!reader, readers a brat tamer. THREESOME!! Bondage, pegging, overstimulation, mommy kink, and more!!! some incestous undertones on jerome’s part but not really. I love dom!reader sm <3 ty for this request gave me a random burst of motivation. Fluffy aftercare ofc <3 our boys need love !!! after getting their brains fucked out
♫ “I will gently violate your mind, before I tuck you in / my poison is your remedy.” Mz. Hyde by Halestorm
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⋆ Taming these boys is hard, but boy is it worth it.
⋆ First and foremost, how you ever managed to get them to share you is a miracle. But, reader, you have the both of them wrapped around your finger.
⋆ They are both completely two different types of subs, but both brats in different ways. Jerome especially.
⋆ Starting off with Jerome, he practically feeds off everything you say. He vies for your attention so desperately, and your degradtion; for both him and his brother alike. Every word you say, he’s hanging off of. He’s so desperate to be punished, it’s hard to resist.
⋆ Jerome is definitely a lot more teasing. He’ll stretch out on the kingsized mattress in all his glory, preening like a cat, ready to be taken. His eyes light up in a crazed expectation, excitement filling him. His cock is throbbing at your words. Every single “You’re a sick fucking animal.” You utter to him while he writhes below you, he loves. He gets drunk on being degraded.
⋆ Speaking of which, he wants to be fucked like an animal in heat. If you two are fucking, he’ll want to grab your hips, whining loudly, trying to control your movements. You’ll have to slap his hands away, and he’ll pout and growl. If you’re pegging him, he’s grinning and giggling like a maniac, trying to spew out vague jokes and insults, only for you to shut him up with each thrust. When you hit that sweet spot inside of him, his eyes are rolling back, and he’s pausing in his speech- faltering under your touch.
⋆ He also loves watching you peg his brother; it’s thrilling for him to see his typically always-in-control brother who typically ruins his fun be shut up for once and just take it. He’ll laugh and point as he watches, 100% getting off on the degradation of his brother.
⋆ “How’s it feel, brother?” Jerome is taunting, palming his cock in his hand, making fun of Jeremiah. Jeremiah isn’t pleased in the slightest, but it’s hard to snarl something back when he’s getting his hole fucked deep and senseless.
⋆ I’ve mentioned before, Jerome never shuts up. So you’ll have to make him. Make that ginger CHOKE on your strap-on, shoving it down his throat. Watch him wildly gag and look up at you with big almost innocent eyes. His spit will dribble down onto the make-shift cock, making a sloppy mess of his mouth.
⋆ Jeremiah is much more composed, but also gets a kick out of finally seeing his brother shut the fuck up for once in his life.
⋆ Unlike Jerome, Jeremiah is much more hesitant to be dominated, pegged, or tied up. He’s a bit of a narcotic control freak- he’s spent his whole life trying to be in control, so it’s harder to get him to cave.
⋆ You’ll have to be more methodical in your approach. It will take awhile for him to to want to be pegged, so you start small- with slow and sopping blowjobs, feeling him trying to thread his hands through your hair. Everytime he reaches out for you, you’ll remove your lips from his cock, and his lip will curl with annoyance. At first he’ll be angry, constantly trying to give you commands, but it’s useless unless he wants to cum. By the end of it, you’ll have the man begging for your mouth back on his member, through raw tears from being edged hours on end.
⋆ Jeremiah will beg, and that level of submission will break him. From then on, he’ll trust you more, and realize his brother might be right- it is fun to let go. From then on, the two of them will practically worship you.
⋆ They are both big fans of being overstimulated. Jerome will be whining, rolling his head and eyes back, tongue out his mouth. You’ll watch his chest heave with each stroke, sticky cum staining your hand and sheets. Restraints holding him firmly in place. Jeremiah will be murmuring senseless pleads for you to stop, but when he cums over and over, he can hardly complain. He will thrust up into your hand, trying desperately to pull against the ropes around his wrists and legs.
⋆ Jerome has more of a mommy kink then Jeremiah does; and it’s a sore subject for him. It slips out randomly during one of your sexcapades, and Jeremiah will look at him incredulously before laughing. It’s his turn to taunt Jerome now. THIS will get under Jerome’s skin, and he’ll go red in the face, lip trembling while he struggles not to cum right then and there from the sheer humilation.
⋆ In terms of aftercare, PLEASE take care of these boys. Jerome will be overtly clingy, and Jeremiah overtly embarrassed. Jeremiah will insist he takes a shower first, and Jerome will be glad to have your sole attention in the mean time.
⋆ Both of them aren’t used to being taken care of. And both of them feel infinitely grateful. When I say they would do anything for you, I mean anything. Que Jeremiah watching you clean him up, looking at you like your the only pure thing in the world from lidded eyes. Jerome is equally as intrigued, never being treated with a soft touch before you.
⋆ Expect playful banter by the time you clean them up, mostly from Jerome. You’ll be cuddled up together in the sheets, Jerome’s head laying on your thighs, and Jeremiah’s head laid between your breasts.
⋆ “So…Y/N, which one of us has the bigger dick?”
⋆ “You two are literally identical, Jerome.”
⋆ “She just doesn’t want to hurt your feelings. It’s obviously me.” Jeremiah will snidely chime, small smirk on his face.
⋆ The sibling rivalry continues to persist, Jerome sticking his tongue out at him and blowing a raspberry on your thighs, which tickles.
⋆ Like I said, you have these two boys wrapped around your finger.
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anonymous-dentist · 4 months ago
Text
Bleeding Heart Part One
Or: Somebody is attacking members of the Federation of Heroes, and Cellbit is, for once, not the killer
(TW: Blood, Self Harm [by technicality])
----
Cellbit first hears about the attacks from Bagi while they're getting lunch together for the first time in almost a month.
"I've just been so busy," she sighs. She looks about one insult away from slamming Cellbit's face into the table, and she looks about one wet piece of lettuce away from slamming her own face into her salad.
Cellbit hums in response. He's been busy, too. Not with police work, but photo editing is fucking hard, okay? Especially when your apartment is a fucking war zone thanks to yet another patented Richarlyson Temper Tantrum.
Only a little annoyed, Cellbit pokes at his barbecue hard enough with his fork to scrape it against the plate.
Bagi scowls and kicks Cellbit underneath the table.
Cellbit kicks Bagi back, with purpose.
"Fuck you!" she snaps, stomping down hard on his foot.
Cellbit responds by snatching her glass of water from next to her plate and turning it over above her salad.
"What?" Cellbit casually asks as Bagi starts visibly shaking with rage. "At least I'm not stabbing you this time."
"You-" Bagi cuts herself off with a frustrated groan.
She reaches across the table and steals his plate; he lets her, the meat is a bit too well-done for his tastes.
Cellbit leans back in his seat and watches her stab into the barbecue with the rage of a goddamn beast.
"Aren't you vegan?" he asks her.
"Fuck you," she tensely responds. "I don't have the patience for this today. Between you and those fucking- the Federation, I'm going to lose it."
Cellbit tenses at the mention of the Federation- the Federation of Heroes: Q City's defense against supervillains and petty criminals alike, the unofficial backer of the city's educational system and the police force and the courts, and Cellbit's unrequited worst enemy.
His nose wrinkles in distaste. "What do they want?"
"What don't they want?" Bagi sighs. "I don't see why they need us to solve this if they're in charge of literally every superhero in the city. It's just a couple of assault cases, that's it."
...Ah.
Casually- oh, so casually, Cellbit rolls his eyes and cracks a grin.
"What, is someone going around and beating up Federation guys again?" he asks. "I thought Enigma was dead."
Bagi nods, annoyance written all across her face in big red letters. "He is, I was there when he died! But freaking Foolish-"
"Oh, God, Foolish is on this case?"
"The Federation requested him specifically, but he's like-" (She screws her voice up into something approximating her coworker's.) "'Oh, no, Bagi! It's the dead guy assaulting all these Federation guys!' Like? Enigma is dead, how the hell is he still getting assault charges?"
Cellbit shrugs. "You know how Foolish is. He's probably still pissed about never actually getting to figure out Enigma's secret identity. He's just salty."
"Yeah, well. Whatever."
"Whatever," Cellbit echoes.
Bagi, somehow, looks much closer to death. She looks tired, but that's just what happens when you're stuck dealing with Cucurucho for an extended period of time; Cellbit swears he only gets sleep when Cucurucho is out of the city on official Federation business.
Now, Cellbit should probably be grilling his sister for more information. Any enemy of the Federation of Heroes is a friend of his, and he's got some contacts that he might want to hook this mystery person up with.
But.
Smile softening just slightly, Cellbit asks, "How has Empanada been? Is she doing better at this new school?"
Bagi's entire being brightens up, and she starts talking about her daughter's first day at her new school and how Empanada had the best time and how the school is actually accommodating for her disabilities and how... Well, Cellbit stops listening after a couple of minutes while he starts thinking about his own child.
Oh, Richarlyson.
He's so grounded.
-
But, funnily enough, it's while he's walking Richarlyson to school a week later that Cellbit finds the first official murder victim of Bagi's mystery assaulter.
"Oh," says Cellbit, looking down at the corpse lounging in front of his apartment building surrounded by its own brains and blood.
He blocks Richarlyson from following him out the door, much to Richarlyson's annoyance.
"What is it?" Richarlyson asks, squirming and trying to slip under Cellbit's arm. "I wanna see!"
"I think your other dads would kill me," Cellbit replies. He glances over his shoulder and down. "Can you go get my camera for me? I'll let you carry it to school."
Eyes widening excitedly, Richarlyson turns on his heel and bolts up the stairs.
As soon as he's gone, Cellbit looks back at the corpse.
It isn't a particularly good corpse. It's... messy. Too many wounds, too random. Skull fracture and cave-in seems accidental based off the location of the fracture and the location of the body; the killer probably smashed the victim's head against the building's railing and killed them just like that.
It's early in the morning. Early enough that Cellbit's street is basically empty; the Favela isn't really ever quiet, but people are smart enough to stay off the streets from sundown until sun-up. And the Federation of Heroes isn't dumb enough to try putting cameras up in a place like the Favela; it'd be a waste of money with how many times they'd have to replace them all.
So nobody is there to watch as Cellbit crouches next to the corpse and sticks a finger in the puddle of blood.
(Water holds memories, and blood is ninety-two percent water, so...)
The blood ripples like a lake after a stone was tossed into it, waves moving from Cellbit's finger outwards.
And then-
"Pai! I got it!"
Cellbit swiftly stands and turns and hides his hand in his coat pocket and smiles a thanks at Richarlyson. Damnit.
"Did you remember to lock the door behind you?" Cellbit asks.
He tries to block the view of the corpse again, but Richarlyson just barely manages to squeeze past him and out the door.
Cellbit sighs, "Don't tell your Pai Pac I let you see this. He'll kill me."
Richarlyson stares down at the body, frozen in shock.
Well. At least he isn't screaming?
Cellbit slings his camera bag over his shoulder and pulls his camera out. He's got work to do.
"Why do their brains look like that?" Richarlyson asks, nose wrinkled. "Gross."
"Brains don't look like they do in the movies," Cellbit explains, moving past Richarlyson and turning his camera on. He points it at the corpse's face, and he clicks the button. "They're a lot more... gooey. Not as solid as you'd think. It's mostly just the skull keeping them together."
"Really?"
"No, this is just kind of fucked up."
Richarlyson sits on the steps, arms crossed across his knees. He watches Cellbit work, not as disturbed as Cellbit thought he'd be. But, well, he is Richarlyson. He's seen worse than loose brains and a bit of blood. This is nothing.
"I think I know them," Richarlyson says after a bit.
Cellbit glaces up at him, camera focused on the bloody railing.
Richarlyson thinks some more, and then he nods. "Yeah, okay, so I don't know them, but I know their face! They were on the news last week! Super Hamster!"
Super... oh, right. Super Hamster, one of the Federation's newest recruits. Super low-ranked hero who spends their patrols getting cats out of trees and doing battle with a similarly low-ranked villain named Mongoose Man. Kind of stupid, but in a dumb college student way. Weird interviews. Weirder costume.
Cellbit lowers his camera and looks the corpse in the face. Super Hamster wore a mask over their eyes, but the cheeks and chin look the same...
Oh. Oh no.
God. Damnit.
-
Okay, so.
So.
Once upon a time, there was a supervillain named Enigma. He was a bit of a serial killer, but he only attacked and killed those affiliated with the Federation of Heroes: office workers, doctors, weapons suppliers. Heroes.
He did this for years. He founded the Order of Villains alongside fellow villains: the Demon and Crow Man. He killed dozens upon dozens of people, took down seemingly-endless numbers of rookie and professional heroes alike, made himself a reputation as the worst villain Q City had ever known.
And then he died.
There was an explosion during a chase he and the Federation's Sharkboy were involved in. Sharkboy was sent into early civilian retirement. Enigma was sent to his grave.
But.
Cellbit slinks his way down the alley with his camera bag slung over his shoulder. He's wearing sunglasses and a black surgical mask leftover from the last time Richarlyson was sick, and his hair is mostly hidden under a borrowed baseball cap.
Recently, according to both Bagi and the evening news, people seem to think that Enigma has done the impossible and risen from the grave. Somehow.
The thing is, the new guy doesn't kill the same way that Enigma did. Enigma used weapons the color of fresh blood. All reports from surviving victims of "Enigma" mention someone with a black sword and-slash-or a steel baseball bat.
Honestly? Cellbit wishes this new killer all the luck in the world. Going up against the Federation is risky business; that's why Cellbit retired in the first place: his family was at risk.
But, really, Cellbit can't have the rumors about Enigma's return continue to go around. They're making everyone pay too much attention to everyone else, and Cellbit really doesn't like getting stared at.
He really, really doesn't like getting stared at by Pac of all people.
So. For Pac's sake, and for Pac's sake only, Cellbit is on the prowl tonight. He's been studying up on the assault cases that Bagi has been investigating, and he's determined that nearly all of the assaults happened within a three-block circumference of the Federation's main building downtown. The outlier so far is Super Hamster, who was apparently Cellbit's upstairs neighbor before their death.
So. Downtown.
Cellbit doesn't have much on him. He has his phone and wallet, and he has a pocketknife and a pocket first aid kit. He's wearing gloves to hide his fingerprints, and because he knows better than to make skin-to-skin contact with an unknown super. (Because the new guy is a super, Cellbit can just tell; who else would have the balls to fight other supers hand-to-hand?)
And, of course, he has his camera. He needs to get proof for Pac, and then he'll get Pac to deliver the pictures to the right people.
Enigma might be dead, but "Enigma" would fit right in with the Order of Villains.
Cellbit steps out of the alley and looks up at the imposing Federation building rising above the buildings around him. It's big and white and glowing and shaped like the letter 'F' and it's fucking ugly, but it's also absolutely terrifying.
("Dispose of him.")
A helicopter lands on the Federation building's roof. Cellbit hopes it fucking crashes after takeoff.
With a sigh, Cellbit turns on his heel and starts down the street towards the building. He looks suspicious as hell, but he also has his P.I.'s license in his wallet if he needs to pull it out.
(He may not be an investigator anymore, but the license doesn't expire for another couple of years. Thanks, Federation!)
There's an itch on the back of Cellbit's neck. A mosquito, probably; it's summer, unfortunately.
Cellbit raises his hand to swat the bug away.
He blinks, and there's a figure in front of him standing beneath a streetlight in all black: hoodie, cargo shorts, what are probably athletic leggings beneath them, gas mask, and- for some reason- a medieval-style cloak with the hood pulled up.
Their hand rests on a sword hung on their side.
Cellbit doesn't so much as blink. Interesting outfit; the gas mask is a nice touch. Probably hiding a voice modulator inside it.
The sword almost seems to sing with all the blood coating it. Fresh blood, still dripping.
Slowly, Cellbit lowers his hand.
"Hey," he lamely says. "Nice cloak."
The killer's head slowly tilts to one side.
A deep, gravelly, very artificial-sounding voice drawls out, "You are not one of theirs."
Oh, so the killer is a nerd. That's cool. They'll fit in great with the Order.
Cellbit shakes his head. "No. I'm not. I'm on your side, actually. I'm just-"
The killer laughs, long and drawn out and painful sounding.
They shake their head slowly. "Don't fuck with me. No one is on my side."
Oh, so the killer is a depressed nerd. Who has obviously read a few too many comic books with how they're talking.
"No," Cellbit quickly says, "but I am. I hate those guys!"
The killer is silent. Still.
Cellbit watches them just stand there.
Swallowing a lump of anticipation in his throat, Cellbit continues:
"The Federation sucks. Everyone who works for it, or with it, deserves to die. I agree with you! But you-"
He cuts himself off with a gasp of pain as the killer vanishes in front of him and as a sharp blade stings along his ribcage from behind.
"Shit!" the killer snaps, voice modulator staticking in panic.
Cellbit staggers forward and throws himself onto the ground, careful not to crush his camera back. His sunglasses come flying off, but fuck them, he stole them, anyway.
His hand flies to his side, and it comes away bloody.
He grins. Perfect.
The killer lunges at him with his sword, aiming right for Cellbit's chest, but-
Cellbit raises his hand to catch the sword, hissing as the blade sinks into the palm of his hand. It cuts right through his glove like it was made of butter, but fuck the gloves, he stole them, anyway.
The killer freezes, confused as Cellbit drags his hand up the length of the blade. His blood drips down onto his hoodie, staining it dark.
"I told you," Cellbit growls, clenching his hand down and grinning. "I'm on your side."
And then Cellbit jerks his hand back and rolls to the side, narrowly dodging a stab to the chest. He raises his hand just in time for the blood running down his arm to ripple and start running backwards.
The killer must catch the movement, because they swing their sword towards Cellbit's wrist. Smart thought, but too late.
Steel clashes against iron with sparks and nausea as the killer's blade meets Cellbit's own.
Vaguely, Cellbit can see the killer's eyes widen through the goggles of their mask.
Cellbit swallows down a fever as he pulls the blood off of his hoodie and forms it into a tiny buckler shield. (If this other guy wants to go medieval, so will Cellbit.)
And then he pushes upwards with his blood sword with all his strength, forcing the killer to take a step backwards to keep themselves from falling on their ass.
"The cameras in this part of the city don't work," Cellbit breathes, pushing himself to his feet and desperately trying not to collapse under the weight of his own being. "You know this, but how? Only the Federation knows. They planned it this way. Job security."
"How do you know, culero?" the killer snaps.
They spin their sword once, look Cellbit over, and freeze.
Cellbit frowns. Just like before...
But then what happened before was-
Eyes widening in realization, Cellbit ducks to the side, just barely getting grazed by a sword skimming across the back of his neck.
The killer groans and tries again, this time catching the meat of Cellbit's bicep.
Cellbit groans, but he forces his blood to push the sword out of his body. It does so with a little protest, too weak to do much, but it manages.
"Enigma," the killer breathes. "You're supposed to be dead, man!"
"I am," Cellbit lowly says.
He hunches over slightly, more than a little out of practice. He holds his shield in front of himself, his sword quivering and at the ready.
"This is great!" the killer excitedly says. "Now that I know it's you..."
They lower their sword and sheathe it, practically bouncing on their toes. Their eyes glitter behind their mask, but they betray nothing.
"...we can team up!" they finish.
They reach a hand out.
Cellbit steps back warily. He holds his sword level with the killer's throat; it drips onto the sidewalk, blood splattering everywhere.
"I'm dead," Cellbit snaps. "You weren't supposed to even see me tonight! I just- oh, fuck."
He groans as a wave of heat washes over him. Pre-faint symptoms, he's close. He used to be better at this, fuck.
He staggers, both his sword and shield splashing onto the ground as he loses his hold over their forms. He braces himself against a streetlight, the same one he first saw the killer under, and he tries not to vomit.
The killer rushes towards him, gloved hands hesitating awkwardly next to his shoulders.
"You okay?" the killer asks. Even through their modulator, they sound concerned. Okay.
"I'm fine," Cellbit wheezes. He waves them off with a glare. "You just- I need proof. That it isn't me this time."
The killer stops breathing. They stop breathing for a long time.
And then they're next to Cellbit rather than in front of him holding his camera.
Cellbit's eyes widen. "Hey, no! Put that back!"
"Relax," the killer says, smile evident in their voice. "I'm getting you proof."
Cellbit's head spins. He hears the camera snap, and then he's on the ground. Oooohh, he's out of practice. (But isn't that a good thing?)
Another camera snap, and he's dry heaving. He hasn't eaten enough to be able to actually throw up anything, but his body sure wants him to try.
"Shit, hold on!" the killer exclaims, and then Cellbit knows nothing.
-
He wakes up to the familiar sound of the beeping of a heart monitor. There's a familiar alien sensation in his arm- I.V. drip, okay.
Okay, he's at the hospital.
Eyes flickering open, Cellbit lets out a sigh. Bagi is going to hate this.
"Fuck," he sighs, staring up at the ceiling.
Once upon a time, Enigma was the most feared villain in the city. But then he got a son, and he found his long-lost twin sister, and he realized that dying either from blood loss or from Federation execution wasn't the ending he wanted anymore. He wanted to live, and so Enigma had to die.
Cellbit hasn't passed out from blood loss since he was just starting out as a villain. It's been almost a decade since then, and he's definitely lost his touch. But that's for the better, really. He doesn't need to use his powers for that kind of stuff anymore. He can heal his son's wounds. He can read the lives of the deceased.
...Or, he would if he could.
He's startled out of his thoughts as someone comes into his room with an armload of vending machine snacks.
"Oh!" the new person exclaims, eyes widening. "You're alive!"
Cellbit doesn't know this person, but he thinks that he wants to.
"Who are you?" Cellbit croaks. "What happened?"
He was with the killer... and then he passed out... and...
"Oh, yeah, so I was walking home from work, and I found you all bloody and passed out on the sidewalk," the man explains.
He sits in the chair by Cellbit's bed, and then he dumps his snacks on the bed and lets out a sigh.
"I'm glad you're okay," he continues. "I was seriously worried."
Cellbit blinks. He's tired, God.
"My camera?" he asks.
"Over there," the man replies. He points towards the other side of the room with his head. "That Hombre Misterioso left it behind when he saw me there."
Cellbit frowns. "Hombre...?"
"Hombre Misterioso. The guy killing all those Federation workers? Apparently, he took a bunch of pictures of himself and managed to send them to the police. That's what they're calling him."
Cellbit's brain ticks away. "Doesn't that just mean 'mysterious guy' in Spanish?"
"Ay, you know Spanish?" The man grins. "That's cool!"
"I'm Brazilian," Cellbit murmurs, not really answering.
He gives the man an appraising look: brown hair, soft looking; dark eyes, glittering; red t-shirt, form-fitting; blue bandana, goofy. Biceps.
The man catches his gaze and winks.
"I'm Roier," he says.
Cellbit gives up on his analyzing; he'll get back to it when he isn't still so drained from losing so much blood.
"Cellbit," he replies. "Thank you for saving me."
"Nah, it's nothing."
(Roier's smile is sharp-toothed and positively breathtaking [or maybe that's just the blood loss talking.])
"Thank you for waking up."
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gay-dorito-dust · 1 month ago
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Can you do one where reader is turned into a cat? Mabey reader are scared when first turned runing from the team reader worked with that day roaming the compaund mjaung trying to find someone from the main group and nuada finds reader.
The first one was so good!!
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Somehow, someway you had found yourself having be turned into a cat.
No actually you did know but it didn’t take until after freaking out at the change in well…everything to realise that this was most likely the result of a spell you’ve been hit with on a prior mission. You didn’t think much of it at first, thinking that it was merely a fluke answer that the spell wouldn’t have affect if the witch was dead, one to awaken the next day -after experiencing some sort of side effects- as a fucking cat.
Guess the spell wasn’t a fluke at all and it didn’t matter whether or not the witch was dead either as you found yourself hiding away from the likes of Abe, Nuala, Hellboy, Liz and Nuada, especially Nuada. You didn’t want the elven prince that you found insanely beautiful and attractive to see you in which a state that would be really embarrassing. Besides you were pretty certain you couldn’t communicate to anyone of your condition and decided to clumsily climb your dresser, picking up a picture of yourself with the group just incase someone wonders about the stray kitten that roamed the complex, or worse mistake you for one of Hellboy’s many, many, MANY cats.
Which had leas you to where you were now, hiding behind corners and or on high shelves from agents and Manning alike before scampering off from one room to the next room, all in hopes of finding anyone capable of knowing what to do about your condition. So far you had no luck as it seemed as though all of your friends had left the compound for one reason or another, which was weird because you were certain that there was no mission to attend to, but you carried on by padding down the hallway as your eyes were constantly on the look out.
However it seemed as though you weren’t as vigilant as you believed you were being as a door swung open in your face, causing you to jolt and make a noise of distress as Liz and Hellboy looked down at you in confusion.
‘You didn’t let the cats out again did you red?’ Liz asked.
. ‘No, not since the last time.’ Hellboy scratched the back of his head as he tried to remember whether he did or didn’t.
Liz sighed. ‘If Manning sees them he’ll think it’s your doing- wait is that a picture in its mouth?’ She then noticed as she kneels down to your height to take a closer look, but before she could, you noticed Nuada from afar and immediately ran away but dropped your picture in the process as you heard Liz and Hellboy call after you.
‘Wait!’ -Liz
‘Come back little kitty!’ - Hellboy.
Nuada -having seen the whole thing- picked up the photo and saw it was one of the first mission he has went on since his imprisonment months ago. Something of which he found odd as if his memory served him well, the only person who had taken this picture was you. So why was it in the jaws of a cat because Nuada was certain you didn’t own any pets like Hellboy did, this didn’t add up to the elven prince who decided to confront Liz and Hellboy with it.
‘Oh hey princy, whatcha got there.’ Hellboy said the moment he saw Nuada out of the corner of his eye.
‘A picture, I assume it’s the picture that the cat had in its mouth.’ Nuada passes the photo to Liz who looked at it with furrowed brows. ‘This is y/n’s picture,’ she noted as she looked between Nuada and Hellboy, ‘why did the cat have their picture?’ She adds.
‘They don’t have pets that we’re unaware of.’ Nuada inquirers the pair who shared a look before looking at him.
‘Y/n doesn’t have pets to come of it and if that’s not the case, then I guess it has to do something with the last mission we went on.’ Hellboy says as the memories of how odd you were being afterwards began to surface to the forefront of his mind, and Liz seemed to realise what her partner was going on about but Nuada was feeling an arrange of things.
‘What happened to them.’ The elven prince said with furrowed brows, having become slightly protective of you as of recently, so hearing that something had happened to you while he was away on his own mission had him on edge.
‘Oh yeah. If I remember they got hit by a spell, at first nothing happened so we assumed it’s because the caster was dead, but it seems as though it was only a slow acting spell rather then a fast acting one as later on they began to become sick of sorts and excused themself to go to bed.’ Hellboy recounted to the prince.
‘May I have that picture?’ Nuada asked as he opened his hand towards Liz, who put the photo in his palm without hesitation.
‘What do you plan to do spearhead?’ Hellboy asked with a raised brow.
‘Going after y/n and seeing what we can do to undo the spell.’ Was all Nauda said as he strides down the hall and towards the library where he’d know you’d most likely be when in times of uncertainty or was scared. This was probably because he has told you once that if you were ever in doubt or worried about something, was to go to the library and wait for him there. So what does the elven prince see first when entering the library?
Your cat self resting in front of the fire and ironically it was the same place you were always found by Nuada, which only gave him confidence that you had been turned into a cat and he wasn’t engaging in conversation was a stray feline that somehow got inside.
‘Y/n?’ Nuada asked and your ears perk up, followed by your head as you looked over at the prince and let out a curious meow, almost as though you were trying to say his name in return as he came closer to you. God you hated how it was him who found you first, or rather tracked you down because you always keep forgetting that this man had exceptional tracking skills, which was expected of a man of his abilities and longevity.
‘It’s okay, it’s only me.’ Nuada reassured as he knelt down in front of you, opening his hand out towards for you to sniff freely to asses his character, smiling softly to himself when you pushed your head into his hand and purring gently when he curled his fingers under your chin. This was heaven for you as you practically stretched yourself across Nuada’s lap, closing your eyes as a calming, protective feeling draped over you as you allowed Nuada to hold you in his arms, cradling you to his chest.
‘Nothing will get you while you’re in this form my beloved.’ He promised as he kissed your little furry head, meaning every single bit of his words as he felt this overwhelming need to keep you safe and secure until you return to normal. Nothing and nobody was going to stop him from doing so as he consulted some books about spells in hopes of getting some answers for your condition.
Nuada was more than determined to get you back as much as the next person, something his sister tended to tease him about was his soft spot with you and while he was adamant to accept it, and yet he couldn’t help but accept this as fact he’ll have to live with until he gains the confidence to do something about it.
‘Meow?’ You pawed at the page Nuada was currently on, hoping for answers to be written out before him because you didn’t like the idea of being a cat forever, while it might have some perks, you were still eager to get back to normal however you could.
Nuada smiled as he scratched under your chin again, causing you to purr and push yourself into his touch, liking the way he handles you gently yet firmly it was quite intoxicating. ‘Soon my heart, have patience but until then I shall keep you company, is that okay?’ He asks you and you felt sheepish but decided to show your gratitude towards him by licking his hand. The elven prince the kisses your furry head, lingering there before pulling away. ‘Thank you dearest for putting your trust in me.’ He whispered.
You only meowed in thanks. You’d love to show your thanks when you get back to normal, a date should suffice shouldn’t it?
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darkcircles4lyfe · 4 months ago
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What are your thoughts on the recent chapter?
This is a pretty vague ask but I’m pretty sure I received it yesterday. If not… oops?
I’m actually so excited for the next—that is, the second to last—chapter as someone who was deeply affected by chapters 391-395 and who just loves Toga Himiko in general, so so much. I’ve really grown to love Ochako’s arc too and I’ve come to trust the process here. I didn’t know about everyone freaking out until after I read 428 officials yesterday, and I’m not worried like that. We’ve been in this type of cliffhanger situation multiple times before.
The news that the end of Himiko’s and Ochako’s fight wasn’t recorded hit me hard, just like it hits Ochako, because the world doesn’t get to know who Himiko really is. There’s nothing Ochako could say on her behalf that would compare to actual footage of her pain, anger, joy, love, sorrow, and sacrifice.
…which is to say, Himiko does not serve as a martyr, a tragic, cautionary example. I’ll remind you that that was what the PLF reporter wanted her to be, and she was controlling and patronizing. Let’s think about this as a choice Horikoshi is making, to discard the only ammunition he had to make Himiko into an example and have it be even remotely compelling and satisfying. Boom, gone. There’s no footage. Why?
On the other hand, this is actually an advantageous turn of events if it turns out Himiko survived, because more calculated actions can be taken to keep her safe. I’m starting to see this as a turning point not necessarily for society as a whole, but for the hero profession and its purpose, wherein under Hawks’ leadership the hero commission could become the exact opposite of what it was. It’s no accident that the first half of this chapter is devoted to showing how the next generation and the public were both ~so inspired~ by class A’s actions in a way that mimics the chain of inspiration that motivated class A to begin with. Only this time, Ochako and Izuku are deeply uncomfortable with it! They don’t want this chain reaction to keep going the same way forever. These people look at them and have no idea what they’re actually going through or what they’ve seen. Future heroes who don’t know the real story. That’s very upsetting. Now they are starting to see firsthand how a pattern of collective forgetting is perpetuated. It won’t change until someone like Himiko is actually saved. No bright future without a place for her in it.
I’m excited because this chapter directly confirms Ochako’s awkward, overly cheerful mask for what it is, as it finally starts to crumble. In hindsight, she’s probably done this a lot in the past as well. It casts her whole character in a new light. She and Himiko are so much alike in this way.
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I still have high hopes for this storyline because of how much it resonates with me as a queer allegory. Of course, Himiko is also literally queer, but I mean the symbolic stuff about her quirk and her family’s rejection. As a trans person who spent a long time in the closet convincing everyone around me that I was a normal, happy girl, whose pain and rage only festered and grew stronger, who was perceived as selfish and destructive, who was determined to live for myself but still doubted if I had any future at all… I see Himiko’s story as so perfect, so real, that I can’t imagine it ending poorly. And it doesn’t have shit to do with canonizing that ship, either. I’m not worried.
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