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thef1diary · 12 days ago

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Language Of Leaves | F. Colapinto

Summary: Franco begrudgingly agrees to watch your plants, but caring for them leads him to realize he’s growing just as attached to you.

warnings: fluff, a few spanish sentences - w translation (correct me if it’s wrong!)

wc: 3k

masterlist

Franco had been wholly reluctant from the moment you asked him to take care of your plants. The request hadn’t even fully left your lips before he shook his head, immediately retreating a step, his hands raised as though warding off some ludicrous proposal.

“¿Estás loca?” (are you crazy?) he’d exclaimed, his brows furrowing in exaggerated disbelief. “You’re asking the wrong person here, I would kill your plants without even realizing. They don’t want me around, trust me.” He looked at the leafy green oasis you had so carefully tended to with a mix of apprehension and resignation, like the plants themselves were quietly mocking him from their pots.

But you knew Franco well, you knew that if you pressed just a little, his tough facade would soften. So, you laid it on thick, giving him that soft, pleading expression that he could never quite resist when it came to you. You looked at him with those big, hopeful eyes, layering in just a hint of sadness. “Franco, please. My plants will wither without someone to care for them. Leaving them alone for two whole weeks… it’d be like abandoning children.”

Your words seemed to strike a nerve. He hesitated, his gaze flicking back to the plants and then to you, a faint crack appearing in his armor. You could practically see the thought unfolding in his mind—imagining you returning home to drooping, lifeless plants, the beautiful greenery reduced to a shadow of what it had been. His resistance wavered.

And then you delivered the final blow: a tiny, almost-mournful pout. You knew it was his Achilles’ heel, the expression that always seemed to make him relent, no matter how absurd the request.

Franco sighed—a long, dramatic sigh, muttering under his breath as he glanced away, pretending as if he hadn’t already lost this battle. Finally, he held out his hand for the paper in yours, grumbling all the while, “fine. Solo por dos semanas.” (only for two weeks)

Franco took the paper with a resigned sigh, eyeing it skeptically as he skimmed the instructions. You had done your best to make it as straightforward as possible, keeping the notes to simple instructions for sunlight and water. Still, he seemed to regard even this minimal guidance as a daunting task, his brows furrowing with each line he read. You could practically see his mind racing, piecing together the responsibility you were trusting him with, and how high the stakes suddenly felt.

But since he had already agreed—thanks to that soft pout of yours he couldn’t resist—he knew it was too late to back out now. He folded the paper carefully and gave you a look, one last attempt to salvage his pride. “I’ll try my best, okay? But if you come back and a plant or two doesn’t make it, that’s not my fault.”

There was a slight smirk on his face, though, as if he was secretly determined to prove himself wrong, to come through for you.

You lean in and press a quick, warm kiss to his cheek, murmuring a soft, “thank you, Franco.” The gesture is small, but the effect is immediate. A flush rises to his cheeks, painting them a rosy pink that he tries to hide by looking away. He clears his throat, obviously flustered, and rubs the back of his neck as though the warmth spreading there might somehow disappear if he just ignores it.

He lets out a low cough, shifting his stance uncomfortably, and mutters, “Yeah, yeah… don’t mention it,” his voice gruff, but betrayed by the hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. Before you can say anything else, he gives a quick nod and ends the conversation right there, stuffing the paper in his pocket as though ready to make his escape before you see just how much your kiss affected him.

When you finally left for your trip, Franco lingered in the doorway of your apartment, taking in the quiet space that was now his responsibility. He moved to the middle of the room, staring down at the list you’d left him. The handwriting was familiar, your looping letters filling the space with gentle reminders and careful instructions, but it was the little doodles that captured his attention.

You’d sketched a happy monstera leaf next to its name, a tiny sun with a smiling face by the plants that needed more light, and even raindrops beside those that liked extra water. He found his fingers drifting over the paper, tracing each drawing, a small smile creeping onto his face. “Qué linda…” (how cute) he murmured before catching himself and pulling his hand back with a quick cough.

“They’re just plants, Franco,” he told himself under his breath, trying to brush off the warmth in his chest. Still, he couldn’t deny that the thought of you sitting down to make this list—carefully, as if you were entrusting him with a life-or-death mission—made him feel… something.

The first day was straightforward enough. He followed each instruction you’d left to the letter, checking off each plant on your list and measuring out water carefully. Some plants didn’t need watering every day, so he noted the days with reminders on his phone. He’d warned you he wasn’t the best plant sitter, after all, and the last thing he wanted was to accidentally prove himself right.

As each day passed, he found himself coming over more often than necessary. Even on days when only one or two plants needed watering, Franco would still make the trip, convincing himself it was “just in case.” What if something went wrong overnight? What if he’d missed something? He checked each plant like they were little patients, leaning close to inspect the soil.

By the fourth day, he was getting into a rhythm. He began with the smaller plants, crouching down to check the moisture in their soil. If it felt too dry, he gave them a splash of water; if it seemed damp, he left them alone.

But then he reached your monstera, the plant you considered your prized possession. He stilled, a strange sensation of dread creeping over him as he noticed the edges of the leaves starting to turn yellow, a slight droop to the usually vibrant foliage. His heart dropped.

“¡Mierda!” (shit) he muttered, kneeling down to inspect the damage. “No, no, no…” Panic crept into his chest as he pictured you coming home to find a mess of dying plants. He knew how much these plants meant to you; you tended to them with such devotion, treating each one like it was a beloved pet.

“No me hagas esto, por favor. ¿Qué te hice?” (Don’t do this to me, please. What did I do to you?) His fingers brushed over one of the yellowed edges, his brow furrowing as he searched for any clue. “I swear, I followed everything she wrote down,” he muttered, almost like he was trying to reassure the plant—and himself. He took out the list and reread the instructions for the monstera, scanning the page as if a hidden solution would suddenly appear.

The room fell silent, save for his own low muttering as he kept inspecting the monstera, turning the pot gently and studying each leaf like a doctor checking a patient’s pulse. “Okay, maybe it needs a little less water? Or more light?” He tried everything he could think of, even nudging the pot slightly closer to the window. “Dios mío,” (my god) he breathed, wiping a hand over his face. “She’s going to kill me if it wilts.”

But then he paused, remembering something else.

Franco looked around at your cozy, plant-filled home, feeling a mix of anxiety and determination. He remembered how you’re always doting on these plants, cradling each one gently as you water or trim leaves. He’d always found it amusing, the way you’d coo at it as if it were a pet, fingers lightly brushing over its leaves, calling it mi bebé, whispering reassurances in a soft voice, and he’s never missed the way your face lights up whenever one of them sprouts a new leaf or a flower bud.

Franco never understood it, thought it was just some odd habit. But now, facing the wilting monstera, he wondered if maybe it wasn’t as silly as he’d thought.

He cleared his throat, feeling utterly ridiculous. “Alright, monstruo,” he muttered, using a nickname he’d given the big, leafy plant.

“We’re gonna make this work, ¿sí? No más hojas amarillas, ¿entendido?” (Yes? No more yellow leaves, understood?) He felt silly, but if talking to them helped even a little, he was willing to try.

“She really loves you, ¿sabes? She’d hate to see you like this.” (you know) He reached out and gently touched one of the yellowing leaves, his hand lingering there, almost as if he were holding its hand.

He could picture you now, laughing at him for talking to a plant—to your plant—but he kept going anyway. “I’ll do better, okay? Whatever you need. More sun, less water, whatever it takes. Just… hang in there. Don’t make me break her heart.”

He sat back on his heels, staring at the monstera for a moment longer. He felt strangely connected to it, like he’d made a pact, a silent agreement between them.

In the days that followed, Franco grew more and more attached, unconsciously mimicking the little rituals he’d seen you do. He hummed softly under his breath as he watered, sometimes even pausing to glance at the list you’d left, your handwriting now familiar and endearing to him.

He no longer approached your plants like a checklist to get through. Instead, he slowed down, taking the time to touch each leaf and test the soil carefully with his fingers, just like he’d seen you do a hundred times.

When he came across your spider plant, a small and slightly finicky one that he’d once jokingly called “the diva” because of its stubborn leaves, he paused, lightly brushing his thumb over the thin, arching fronds. “You’re giving me more trouble than all the others combined, you know that?” he said, his voice softer than before, almost like he was confiding in it. “But I get it… you’re probably used to her touch, not mine.”

Each day, he began to greet them with a quiet “hola,” as if entering a room full of familiar faces. He knew the way you did it, how you’d walk in and give each plant a little greeting or a compliment. And now he found himself doing the same thing. “Looking good,” he’d mutter as he checked the moisture of your jade plant, nodding approvingly, even though it was just a plant in silence.

The last thing Franco expected was to miss you. But somewhere between fussing over your plants and memorizing every instruction you’d left behind, he started to notice the silence. Your laughter, your endless chatter about plant care, the way you’d smile as you talked about each one like it had a personality—all of it lingered in the empty spaces of your home, making it feel strangely hollow.

He never said it out loud, but as much as he protested, he enjoyed coming over, having coffee with you as you arranged your plants, rambling about which ones needed more light, which were delicate, and which were “just a little dramatic.” You’d look at him with that soft, knowing smile as he pretended not to care, and though he’d grumble about “too many plants,” he never left without sneaking one last look at your little green haven.

He wondered how you’d react if he managed to keep them all alive. A small part of him—a part he tried not to examine too closely—wanted to see your face light up when you saw the plants, thriving and green, as if he’d managed to preserve something precious to you.

Sitting there on your living room carpet, surrounded by all these green, leafy “babies” you’d entrusted to him, he realized he wasn’t just daydreaming about your reaction to the plants. He found himself wondering what it would be like to be here with you, to share these quiet mornings side by side, maybe with a cup of coffee and your gentle teasing. He imagined your hand on his arm, laughing at his sudden “attachment” to your beloved green haven, and he felt a pang of longing he couldn’t ignore.

Franco had always admired you, but these past two weeks had somehow made him feel closer to you, made him wonder what it would be like if he weren’t just a friend.

He wasn’t sure when it happened, but somewhere along the way, he stopped seeing these plants as “yours” and started treating them like they were his responsibility too.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, your two-week trip came to an end. It was well past midnight when you let yourself in, leaving your suitcase by the door as you spotted a lit lamp in the otherwise dark apartment. You padded softly down the hall, stifling a yawn, but stopped in your tracks at the sight that awaited you.

There, in the middle of your living room, was Franco, sound asleep on the floor. His back was against the sofa, his head lolling to one side, and in his hands were two of your plants—your small, temperamental spider plant and your “drama queen” fern. Even in his sleep, he cradled them carefully, as if afraid one wrong move might damage them.

You couldn’t help but smile, taking in the sight of him nestled between your plants, his face softened in sleep, looking far more at peace than you’d ever seen him. You stepped a little closer, crouching down and noticed the smudges of soil on his hands and the slight disarray of the room, as if he’d gone through a nightly ritual of checking on each plant before dozing off right there on the floor.

As you reached out, your fingers barely grazing a stray curl from his forehead, he stirred, eyes fluttering open, his gaze meeting yours. His sleepy, unfocused eyes sharpened as he realized you were there, inches away, and a hint of surprise flickered in them.

“Ah… estás aquí,” (you’re here) he muttered as he realized he was still holding onto your plants.

A faint blush colored his cheeks as he placed them gently beside him, his fingers lingering on the leaves as if reluctant to let go.

You both remained close, his sleepy eyes meeting yours, and suddenly the room felt charged, every inch between you alive with an unspoken electricity. He didn’t move away, and neither did you. The silence was warm, thick with all the things you hadn’t yet said, every shared glance and lingering touch from before echoing in this small, tender space between you.

“I didn’t expect to find you like this,” you whispered, the words coming out softer than you intended.

He laughed lightly, the sound rumbling low in his chest as he leaned back, eyes not leaving yours. “I didn’t expect to get so… attached,” he admitted, his voice dropping, a hint of something more in his tone.

A small smile tugged at your lips, and you raised an eyebrow, teasing. “To the plants or…?”

His gaze flickered down to the fern beside him for a moment, and then back to you, as if he could no longer resist the pull drawing you closer. “They were good company,” he murmured, his voice softer now, like he was confessing something he’d been holding back, “but… I meant you.”

Your smile softened, and before you could second-guess yourself, you had leaned in, bridging the last inches between you until your head was nestled gently against his chest. He shifted to hold you, his arms wrapping around you naturally, as if they’d been waiting for this moment. You could feel his heartbeat beneath your cheek, steady but just a bit faster than usual, mirroring your own.

He tightened his hold around you, one hand settling at the small of your back while the other drifted upward, his fingers trailing gently along your spine. The touch was unhurried, almost reverent, as if he were savoring the simple act of holding you close.

You let yourself relax fully into his embrace, feeling the way his fingers seemed to map out a quiet symphony along your spine. There was a tenderness in his touch, a kind of reverence that made you feel like this moment was as meaningful to him as it was to you.

“Franco…” you whispered, the word barely leaving your lips as his gaze flicked to your lips, lingering in a way that made the room feel smaller, more intimate. His thumb brushed against your side, an almost absent-minded gesture, yet one that spoke volumes, as if he was trying to memorize every inch of you with the tips of his fingers.

He leaned in, his forehead resting gently against yours, and for a heartbeat, the world outside faded, leaving only the soft rise and fall of his breath mingling with yours. His eyes closed briefly, like he was savoring the closeness, and when they opened, his gaze was deeper, his voice barely more than a whisper.

“I missed you,” he murmured, his tone laced with a sincerity that sent a thrill through you, making you forget everything but the warmth of his presence.

A faint smile tugged at the corners of your mouth. “I missed you too,” you whispered, your thumb gently grazing his cheek.

Franco’s hand slid to the back of your neck, his fingers threading through your hair as he tilted his head slightly, his lips brushing against your forehead in a soft, lingering kiss. The moment hung between you, suspended in time, gentle and full of unspoken promises.

When he pulled back just enough to look at you, his smile was warm, content. There was no rush, no need for words anymore. Just the quiet understanding between you, as if the silence said everything that needed to be said.

And in that silence, you both stayed, savoring the peace of finally being close in a way you hadn’t been before.

taglist: @blakebearsblog @arieslost @lilorose25 @jamieeboulos @cinderellawithashoe @spreadyourwings-my-smiling-angel

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niqhtlord01 · 9 months ago

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Humans are weird: They sing going to war

( Please come see me on my new patreon and support me for early access to stories and personal story requests :D https://www.patreon.com/NiqhtLord Every bit helps)

While serving alongside the human forces during the Torus Campaign I learned much of their strange culture.

Their need to stack foods in elaborate combinations which they call a “Sandwich”, their constant need to play “The Game” without ever explaining what it is unless to tell you that you have lost it, and even their obsession with petting anything within arm’s reach with an almost religious like dedication; but the strangest custom I only witnessed during the final stages of the war.

We had just deployed over the world of Obidon III and were launching a joint ground assault with the human forces. Enemy resistance was expected to be heavy and many would not survive the drop, but command believed that if enough forces reached the surface of the planet they could establish a beachhead and allow the rest of the contingent to be brought in.

During the decent to the planet all I could do was keep my eyes closed and hope beyond hope that we would survive. I was so lost in this trance like state that my friend Septem had to physically smack me on the helmet to get my attention and tell me to turn my radio channel to frequency 13.

I was confused at first since that frequency was being used for our human allies but he insisted that I would not believe what they were doing. So I reset my radio in my helmet to frequency and what I heard was something I had never expected on a battlefield.

They were singing.

The frequency was chalk full of voices in such volume that I had to turn down the volume but it seemed like every single human that was part of the attach was joining in the song. My translator unit was trying to keep up but the sheer intensity of the humans singing was causing it to drop in and out, picking up every other word.

I wanted to listen closer to them but the enemy flak began pounding the outside of our dropship. Each detonation sent the ship rattling side to side violently. I had just retightened my straps when a shell burst just beneath us sending a shockwave through the ship so strong it sent several of my comrades flying from their seats into the opposite wall. They hit the wall hard and did not get back up when their bodies collapsed to the ground.

All I could think about was how this was the moment I was going to die. This was the moment my existence in this universe comes to its conclusion and I return to the dust and atoms of the cosmos. And as I tuned myself to this reality all I could hear were the humans still singing over the radio.

They must have been going through the same amount of enemy fire as he was and yet still they somehow were still able to sing as if nothing was wrong with the world. I got so focused on their singing that I forgot about my worries for such a time that I was startled when the dropship landed with a loud thud against the planet’s surface and the boarding ramp lowered.

The following battle was a grueling six hour run and gun with the enemy as we tried to carve out a safe LZ for reinforcements. I got separated from my unit on more than one occasion and wandered into the human designated areas in the confusion.

To my utter surprise the humans were still singing.

Clad in their blue and gold armor, they broadcasted their voices from their helmet speakers as they advanced street by bloody street. One of them took shelter with me for a time as we prepared to rush a fortified courtyard which housed heavy anti air emplacement. I nodded a greeting to the human who replied in kind, yet their voice never ceased in song. I saw them rush around the corner and take several heavy rounds to their chest, but the shells ricocheted off the armor leaving only scratches on the paint.

I watched in disbelief as this wild singing human leaped over the barricade and slapped a detonation charge on the anti-air weapon before leaping back as it exploded the weapon. They stood in the smoldering flames to take a moment to catch their breath when a sniper’s round from down the street struck them in the head and blew out a large portion of their cranium. It was the first time during the entire battle I had seen a human die but I did not have long to contemplate it as the rest of the humans charged past, still singing, in the direction of the snipers shot.

Another hour of combat and the landing site was finally secured and reinforcements were brought in to take our positions. What was left of the initial landing force were sent back to orbit and recover and regroup from their losses. Out of my people’s forces I was one of twenty soldiers to have survived. I imagined the humans had lost equally as many until the pilot remarked that additional shuttles had been dispatched to carry their force back up. It seemed that despite the intensity of the fighting only three of their warriors had fallen in battle; one of them including the warrior I had watched fall.

I was beyond myself.

These reckless warriors had somehow survived one of the most intense battles the campaign had seen and only lost three of their number.

Once back on the ship the first chance I could I sought them out for an explanation. They were quartered in the lower reaches of the ship, isolated from the other contingents onboard.

Outside their area were two guards still in full armor that initially would not let me through until one of them recognized me from the fighting in the city. I was then led inside and found many of the humans feasting and laughing. Two long rows of tables had been setup facing each other; between them were several fires each with a different animal being roasted over them. At the end of the rows stood three large pyres of wood which held three bodies atop each of them.

As I passed through the humans many ceased their laughter and looked at me, their clouded eyes with suspicion. We made it half way through the throngs when a giant of a human stepped forward and blocked our path. They demanded to know why I had been let it in; going even further to say they will throw me out personally if the answer was not good. The guard who had recognized me said I had witnessed the last moments of one of the fallen and would speak of their deeds. There was a long pause as the large human glared at me, his eyes as cold as the crescent moon of my homeworld.

The human finally relented and let out a loud boastful laugh, clapping me on my shoulders and welcoming me to the feast. Those gathered around cheered and similarly welcomed me now as the ceremony proceeded once more. I could barely say anything as I was seemingly pulled into the celebration. I drank, I ate, I laughed, I even boasted of my own achievements during the battle.

At the height of the feast I was called forward to speak of the final moments of the human soldier I watched die. I learned their name had been Moris Yu, and had served in the human contingent since the beginning of the campaign. I spoke of his final moments, of how he charged the enemy alone and had single handedly destroyed their war machine. I spoke of the snipers bullet laying him low to which all the gathered humans spoke as one “To Odin’s hall he flies.”

With that pyres were set on fire and the bodies slowly turned to ash. I imagine it had some significant ritualistic meaning in human culture but it was beyond me.

After the funeral I asked one of the soldiers the question I had come to them with.

“Why do you sing in battle?”

The human took a long huff from a wooden pipe and blew a cloud of smoke before answering.

“Long ago, my people were raiders and conquerors of the sea.” They began, “Our gods watched over us and should we prove worthy we would be sent to them to join them in their halls and fight alongside them for eternity.”

“There was one warband led by a giant of a man called Osmond Frig. He loved song just as much as he loved fighting, so he made his warriors sing during every fight as it made him happy.”

“They agreed to such silliness?” I asked, to which the human grinned.

“They did after he felled the first three men who laughed at him with a single blow from his axe.” They finished before continuing with their story.

“What was truly surprising was not the sight of these warriors singing, but rather the fact that they were rather good at it. It was said they could make the Valkyries themselves shed a single tear with their songs.”

“Eventually one of the gods, Bragi, noticed Osmond’s warband and took a liking to them. Much like the Valkyries he too was moved by their song and decided to reward them with his patronage. He used ancient magic and made it so as long as the warriors sung they would be impervious to harm of all kinds.”

“So the warband grew in fame and glory as they went conquest to conquest, emerging from battles against impossible odds with nay a scratch on them. First across the northern seas, then across the continent of Europe, and then soon the entire world knew of Osmond; which is when they finally drew the attention of the king of the gods, Odin.”

“Odin watched these powerful warriors and wanted them in his hall for the eternal battle, yet despite every challenge they faced they emerged victorious. No matter what enemy Odin placed in their path or scheme he unleashed on them they refused to fall. Odin knew of Bragi’s patronage and tortured the god to reveal his secret and after seven days and seven nights Bragi told Odin of the spell he had cast and how it could not be undone.”

“But that was all Odin needed to secure his warriors.” The human said with a devil’s grin.

“During the midst of the most recent battle Odin took the form of a mighty warrior and stalked the fields for his prey. He waited for each warrior to catch their breath and cease their song before striking and slaying them, one by one. By day’s end only Osmond remained to fight Odin and though he sang long into the night he too eventually gasped for air and was slain.”

“So that is why you sing?” I asked the human. ‘Because you believe your gods will protect you?”

The human chuckled and nodded to the three pyres. “Did you not say that Moris was only slain after he ceased singing?”

I wanted to counter him with some logic, some reason grounded in reality, but I could not. I left that human area with a profound new perspective of myself in the grand scheme of the universe.

The next time I was in a combat drop my comrades laughed when I began singing. I wasn’t sure if it was good or not, but I hoped that in some way the human god would at least find me amusing and let me live another day.

#humans are insane #humans are weird #humans are space oddities #humans are space orcs #scifi #story #writing #original writing #niqhtlord01 #odin #bragi #norse mythology

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pastabaguette · 2 months ago

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sorry for all the posts today, but this one is very important: alternian video game edits.

i actually have reasonings for all of their blood types, and a few classpects, so i'll dive into them here:

monika: i'm thinking that early in the game, during acts 1 and 2, she maybe masqueraded as a jadeblood or higher. only during act 3 does she reveal herself as a fuchsia to the protagonist.

gordon and alyx: gordon is probably a tealblood, or somewhere around there. fairly high, but not too high, i think. alyx is an olive, and eli is an indigo. azian was probably a gold. (or lime?) i did have to keep gordon’s orange HEV suit, though. surely you understand. okay, troll half life lore: i think on alternia, all the main characters in the half life franchise are like, olive or above. the rebels in follow freeman and the guards are all lowbloods, so that the player doesn't feel too bad about sacrificing them, or something like that. i think this would be something that would happen in an alternian video game, at least.

agent 47: 47 is actually a mutant, due to being manufactured in a lab. he's a weird ice-blue color. he's still got that piercing stare. i felt a little sad changing his iconic red tie, but i do have some thoughts on that as well. obviously, red in human culture tends to symbolize passion, among other things, and in this case, violence and aggression, because it's the color of blood. however, because trolls all have different blood colors, i think they might have different meanings attached to colors than humans typically do. i think that typically, the colors that would most commonly represent aggression in alternian culture would be blue (cobalt and indigo) and purple. now, i know that the sea dwellers exist, but since the vast majority of trolls are lowbloods, they would have a lot more contact with the land-dwelling highbloods, rather than the fish. so, 47’s tie is blue. (i also just think it looks cool matching his eyes)

chell: I made chell a bronzeblood. she’s a test subject, but not one of the special ones (astronauts, olympians, etc). she’s just another lab rat. (also, a lot of her outfit is orange…)

now for classpects! i only have two i’m sure of as of now:

gordon freeman is an heir of hope. this one is fairly obvious to me. a common belief is that heirs have the ability to become their aspect, in a way. in half life 2, gordon quickly becomes the main symbol of the resistance on earth. for the rebels, he himself IS hope.

agent 47 is a prince of life. again, it’s a common interpretation that princes are themselves void of their aspect, and they destroy that aspect in others. this is really literal, obviously, but as a hitman, 47 kills people. literally destroying life. as for his own lack of life in himself, it’s pretty simple as well. 47 is almost always described as entirely void of emotion and empathy. others often remark on his soulless stare, a lack of life behind his eyes. so, as a prince, he fulfills both criteria there.

holy hell, that was a lot of words. i didn’t intend to talk this much. feel free to add your own thoughts; i’d like to hear what others think. these descriptions were a bit rushed, and i don’t really consider myself to be very good at communicating my thoughts, so a lot of things may have been lost in translation. i’d be happy to try and elaborate on my reasonings for any of them.

(oh, also, please no alyx spoilers. i haven’t played it yet!)

#ddlc monika #monika #gordon freeman #alyx vance #half life 2 #hitman #agent 47 #chell portal #chell #rambling #homestuck #i’m so sorry

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cokou · 4 months ago

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What OP Men Post About you on Reddit PT2

OP 男性があなたについて Reddit に投稿するもの。

𝑴𝒖𝒍𝒕𝒊 𝑪𝒉𝒂𝒓𝒂𝒄𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝑭𝒊𝒄

sum. Your boyfriend posted about you on reddit. 𝑹𝑬𝑫𝑫𝑰𝑻 PT1 ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ tw. Fluff & Crack! Slight nsfw on shanks part😭 ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ a/n. Im using my free time to upload my works, i hope its okay to have late uploads😭😭 // Do not translate or transfer any of my works, this is my only account (exp. AO3) will not be cross posted anywhere else. // Masterlist♥

r/AITA Swrdsmn.Zoro ⬆︎ 11.7k ⬇︎ 309

Am I the asshole for refusing to take my girlfriends map route?

My girlfriend loves to take me on a different of adventures throughout the world, her main favorites were taking simple walks that would eventually end up at the other side of the city. She drags me along with her always even if i had told her multiple times that it's too early to go for a walk. My girl, sets her alarm at 3am and wakes me up to go outside and walk with her.

About a week ago, she broke the news to ME, that she booked us a hiking trip. Me being myself, i usually laze around the house and get some sleep, so hiking isn't definitely my thing. But either way she bought us 2 hiking tickets up a snowy mountain.

When we had 4 days prior before setting out for hiking, she immediately drew a map from the place we were going. I admit that she is definitely good at drawing maps, but i studied them and absolutely got confused. I gave up on doing so.

We arrived to our destination and she immediately grabbed her map out of the bag, she tried pulling me to the right side of the mountain but there was a map hanging by the wall of the cabin shop saying that the left side is where the mountain hiking is located. I talked to her about it and she told me that the map they made is probably fake.

We got into a small argument and i parted ways with her towards the left side and i fot lost, I was reported as missing and a group of search party was launched to get me back, Now I'm back with my girlfriend's hold and she's mad at me for not taking her word. We talked to the cabin shop for the map route and found out that there was no such thing as a cabin back on the mountain.

Comments:

Chef_Sanji: yta, obvi your gf deserves someone better. ➣Swrdsmn.Zoro replied: I wasn't asking you ➣Chef_Sanji replied: Obviously you were, you posted this so you're asking everyone. (COMMENT WARNING)

—

r/meat Straw_Luffy ⬆︎ 12.7k ⬇︎ 103

My girlfriend cooked me this today :D !

I'm absolutely thinking that she's better than @chef_sanji! Her cooking is so yummy i could eat all of this in just one bite🤤 THANK YOU SO MUCH @Your.Name !!

Comments:

Chef_Sanjii: IT LOOKS SO GOOD, GIVE ME SOME TOO YN-CHAN❤️❤️ ➣Straw_Luffy replied: No way it's mine! ➣Chef_Sanjii replied: I WASN'T TALKING TO YOU ➣Your.Name replied to Chef_Sanjii: I will when we meet again! :D (Liked by Chef_Sanjii)

—

r/wifey ItsmeShanks ⬆︎ 47k ⬇︎ 1.7k

—Attach photo of you

All night, all day, with clothes, naked, doggy style, missionary, full nelson, in public, in private, in bed, on the sofa, with toys, vanilla, piv, anal, boob job, hand job, fingering, masturbation, in the ship, on the floor, top to bottom, on sea, on land, on my face, on your tits, helicopter style, pegging, on camera, in front of everyone, in an alleyway, in the shower, standing up, sitting, laying down, bent over, no stopping, finishing inside, finishing outside.

@Your.Name

Comments:

Your.Name: WHAT THE FUCK SHANKS (Liked by ItsmeShanks)

—

r/girlfriends Com.Acee ⬆︎ 113k ⬇︎ 12.3k

My girlfriend is so beautiful, she absolutely deserves the world.

Literally shes the best, I don't know what i even did to desrve her presence besides me, but im sos so thankful for it. Everyday i wake up next to her it feels like im blessed eith yet another peaceful and loving day knowing that everything is complete with her by my side.

She smells so good that it stays on my sense of smell, the way her fragrance litter her room and immediately smells like her once i enter is so peaceful and sweet. I absolutely love her perfume, i bought one of them to keep on my room and i spray tiny bits of it on me whenever she's not with me now.

I seldom carry her little gifts in my small bag whenever im away from her to remind me of her presence, her perfume never leave my hands. My shelves are filled to the brim with her godly scented perfumes, her perfume is wuite expensive yet it doesn't matter. Her little girts are kept in a glass covered shelf to ensure protection and will never be broken.

I love gifting her her favorite items and seeing the cutest smiles on her face, i really really wish to spend my eternity with her forever. @Your.Name i love you so much😭😭

Comments:

Your.Name: THIS IS SO CUTE AHHH ➣Com.Acee replied: ILYYYY❤️❤️ (Liked by Your.Name)

—

r/Girlfriends MetalPipeLover_Sabo ⬆︎ 46.1k ⬇︎ 429

I need advice on where to take my girl on a date! D:

Any recommendations for places that's suitable for a date? I'm planning to propose to my dear girlfriend, we've been together for a solid 6 years and a half. We've talked about getting married and i think today is the day i propose to her. I can't think of any place thats perfect enough to do so.

Anything that would have a good view or maybe a little cute cat cafe beside it would be fine, I'm thinking of a little elegant theme..or maybe a little cute one? I really cant decide, i contacted my brothera but they couldn't take a single thing serious. Please actually take me seriously😭

My girl isn't that picky, but i myself think that what ever crosses my mind is simply not enough and that she deserves much better than what im thinking of, but of course i still need to atleast make the proposal romantic right?? 😭😭 Please give me recommendations, im absolutely desperate...

Comments:

Com.Acee: The grand canyon idk🤷🏻‍♀️🤷🏻‍♀️ ➣MetalPipeLover_Sabo replied: ACE GET OFF MY COMMENT SECTION😞😞😞 Straw_Luffy: Take her where there's meat! :D ➣MetalPipeLover_Sabo replied: No that's not good enough. Unknown: A flower field maybe lol? (Liked by MetalPipeLover_Sabo)

©Cokou 2024, all works belong to me.

722 notes · View notes

blairxbear · 4 months ago

Text

Stranger Things Preferences

Their Pet Name for you.

(Featuring: Steve Harrington, Eddie Munson, Billy Hargrove, Jonathan Byers, Dmitri Antonov, Jim Hopper, Alexei, Murray Bauman, Robin Buckley, Argyle, Henry/001)

Warnings: Mentions of sex. This blog is 18+ Minors do not interact.

A/N: My first preference! There will be quite a few of these across quite a few fandoms so if you'd like to be tagged in future preferences or future stranger things posts please let me know in the comments! :) Also any Russian is taken straight from google translate so pre-apologies if I have butchered it! Enjoy!

Steve Harrington

Steve keeps his pet names quite generic, baby, babe, sweetheart. It's not so much the names he uses but how he says them. Most of the time he's most comfortable using the shortened version of your name or nickname he has for you, but the amount of affection he would put into it would make you melt. If he's being especially flirtatious you'd even occasionally get doll. He doesn't miss the effect it has on you when he calls you that.

Eddie Munson

Eddie is as theatrical with his pet names as he is with anything else in life. He loves to call you princess, especially during Hellfire meetings when he can incorporate you into his campaign. I think Eddie would switch between a few pet names to try to keep it interesting, baby, sunshine, sweetheart. It doesn't matter what he calls you it never fails to give you butterflies. Let's not pretend that if you two are hanging out in his trailer while you joke around and play air guitar together that he doesn't call you his little Rockstar.

Billy Hargrove

Billy's pet names for you depend on two things; his mood, and who you are around. In public you're only getting the less heartfelt pet names, he refers to you as his girl a lot in front of other people. Not only does he love the small smile it brings to your face but it also feeds into his possessive side, knowing that everyone knows you are his. When you two are alone and have been together for a while, Billy finally shoes a softer side of himself. He will compliment you a lot and attach all sort of pet names to those compliments, baby, sugar, sweet thing, still loving to resort to calling you his girl. You're mad at him and he's trying to make it up to you? Get ready for him to bargain his way back into your arms, wrapping his arms around you as he whispers in your ear, "Come on sweetheart, you know you can't stay mad at me."

Jonathan Byers

This soft, shy, adorable baby will probably be hesitant to use pet names for a long time. I honestly doubt you would hear them until you two begin to get intimate and he's too lost in the moment to think about what he's saying. He's pussy drunk and rambling into your neck, pet names would all be soft and sweet while he's chasing his high, beautiful and sweetheart would be at the top of his list. Getting high in his room? This sweet man would be telling you how you're his sunshine, rambling on in his delirium about how you light up his life.

Dmitri Antonov

While this man's English is very good, he still prefers to use pet names in Russian. There's something about the way he looks at you with his intense gaze as he slips back into his native tongue that just turns you into an absolute puddle. His favourites include котенок (kitten) and моя любовь (my love). The thought of this man holding you while you curl up in bed for the night, arms wrapped around you while he whispers endearing words in Russian into your ear is enough to bring butterflies to your stomach.

Jim Hopper

Let's not pretend like for a goooooooood while this man affectionately refers to you as kid even if you are barely a few years younger than him. He's a tough shell of a man that will refuse to open up or show his feelings for a long time, but when he does you realise its worth the wait. He doesn't throw around pet names and words of endearment a lot as he prefers to save them for moments when he feels it's right. When it's just the two of you and you're sharing a soft moment, sometimes referring to you as darling in his softer moments. Occasionally you might even get a cheeky baby.

Alexei

Another Russian baby, this adorable man will always call you pet names in Russian, it doesn't matter how much his English has improved. It just means more to him coming from his native tongue. His regular go to include голубь (Dove) and милый (Darling). Although, Murray taught him how Americans us Pumpkin as a term of endearment as a way to screw with you both and now it's one of Alexei's favourite things to call you. Jokes on Murray because seeing Alexei's face light up as he reaches for you and calls you pumpkin is enough to fall even more in love with him.

Murray Bauman

I feel like Murray cannot find it in himself to call you soft names to start off with. He's still confused by the fact that you even want to be with him, he's not going to possibly embarrass himself further using some pet names that might cross some invisible line he's set up for himself. He refers to as lady a lot, or another unique name that fits your looks of personality. Once this man is comfortable and more secure in your relationship I think the names would still stay light and not too sensitive. You would definitely get honey a lot, I don't think Murray would be able to resist yelling through the house when he gets home, "Honey, I'm home!"

Robin Buckley

Robin would also keep her pet names generic just like her bestie Steve, but less out of originality and more just to play it safe. Robin would have some insecurities going into a relationship after all the careful steps she took just to get to where you two are now. She is hesitant at first to say the wrong thing so she sticks to a lot of sweetheart and babe. One day you were spending time together and she slipped up and called you buttercup. She panicked for a second worrying what you would think of the nickname, but seeing your smile wiped all of those worries away and it became one of her favourite pet names so far.

Argyle

Okay so we all know this cutie is not going to call you any conventional pet names unless he's sober which is not very often. You're going to get a lot of my dude and bro but he does really mean it affectionately with you. Other than that you're definitely going to get a lot of made up names that mean absolutely nothing but to him they mean a lot; wicked lady, cream puff, anything. He would totally refer to you as "my queen" when he lets you into the van which he refers to as your chariot. Your favourite pet name would be the time he said, "My pretty girl is gonna get all the pizza she wants" he couldn't understand your reaction as you couldn't think of what to say next after hearing Argyle call you his pretty girl.

Henry/001

I whole heartedly believe this man would refer to you as pet. He does mean it endearingly but he also can't resist how you scrunch your nose up at hearing the teasing term. He also uses a lot of "My little..." whether it be bird, bunny, dove. He constantly feels the need to protect you and he shows that in his terms of endearment by referring to you as small and innocent. I know this man would call you his good girl, and you will have to pry that thought out of my cold dead hands.

A/N: Hope you guys like this! Reminder that if you want to be tagged in future Stranger things posts or other preferences to let me know in the comments and ill create a tags list :)

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dorabellingham · 21 days ago

Text

First day of school

warning: none

characters: jude x mom!reader x baby boy

summary: when it's your child's first day of school but you're very attached

request: yes

may contain spelling and translation errors!

It was a day of mixed emotions at the Bellingham house. Benjamin's first day of school had arrived, and you were ready to accompany the little boy to school in Madrid. Ben, only five years old, had a look of doubt and fear on his face. He understood a few words in spanish, since he had contact with the language on a daily basis, but his natural language was English, and this barrier only made him more apprehensive.

The morning began with careful preparation. You chose Benji's favorite backpack, with dinosaur characters, and Jude prepared a special snack with your son's favorite snacks. However, the expression on the little boy's face remained the same: he was not at all excited.

When you finally left the house, with the little boy holding the hand of each of his parents, Ben looked at you with a pleading look, as if trying to say without words: "Why are you doing this to me?". On the way, you and Jude exchanged encouraging glances, knowing you were making the right decision, but also feeling your hearts ache.

As soon as you arrived at the preschool, Jude got down to Benji's level and explained.

—Benji, you're going to make lots of little friends here. Mommy and daddy will be waiting for you at the end of the day, and I promise that if you're a brave boy, we'll go to the Bernabéu on Saturday. How about that?

He tried to sound as enthusiastic as possible, hoping that would cheer up the little boy, but he just looked at his father with those big, sad brown eyes, clutching his backpack tightly.

You also got down next to your husband and caressed your son's little face.

—It'll only be a few hours, my love. Mommy will be here before you know it. And look, you'll get to play and learn new things! Remember how you always ask about things? Here you'll get lots of answers.

You gave him an encouraging smile, but your little boy didn't seem convinced.

—I don't want to stay, mommy. I don't want to.

He repeated softly, while holding his parents' hands tightly.

The teacher, who was watching patiently, approached, smiling warmly.

—Hola, Ben! Mi nombre es Carlos. ¿Te gustan los dinosaurios?

He asked, pointing to the boy's backpack.

Benjamin looked at him suspiciously, but nodded slowly. He understood a little of what the teacher was saying, but he still felt lost.

—¡Genial! Tenemos juguetes de dinosaurios aquí adentro. ¿Quieres ver?

The teacher continued in spanish, trying to gain his trust.

You gave your son a gentle push to encourage him, but Benji was still hesitant. Jude, noticing his son's anguish, gave him an understanding smile.

—You'll do great, champ. Just a few hours, and then you can tell us everything you did, okay?

After a few more attempts at convincing, Benjamin slowly let go of your hand and followed the teacher with small, uncertain steps. You felt a lump in your throat as you watched your son enter the preschool for the first time without you or Jude around, while your husband lightly squeezed your shoulder in support. It was a big step, both for Benji and for you.

However, as you began to walk away from the entrance, you could hear Benji calling.

—Mommy! Daddy!

He had tears in his eyes, holding a toy dinosaur that the teacher had given him. Your heart broke when you heard your son’s call, and you looked at Bellingham with a look of despair.

Jude took a step towards the entrance, but then turned to you and spoke softly:

—We have to trust that he’ll be okay. It’s the first step, remember?

You nodded, your eyes full of tears, but took a deep breath and waved to your son, smiling and blowing kisses from afar. Benji looked at them, confused and sad, before being taken back by the teacher, who was distracting him with the toys.

——

At home, you tried to distract yourselves, but you both found yourselves looking at your cell phones, waiting for any updates from school. For you, every minute felt like an eternity.

—Babe, I can’t take it anymore...

You murmured sadly as you rested your chin on his shoulder.

—Can we pick you up earlier, sweetheart? —Jude said, his large hands caressing your back. —I feel like they took a part of me.

Bored, you walked around the house, tidying up your son's toys and checking to see if his room was in order, as if that would help you feel more connected. Jude, on the other hand, kept himself busy with training videos, but with each notification, he quickly checked his phone.

Finally, after hours that seemed like days, the phone rang, and the school informed him that Ben was fine, although he had cried a little at first, which was normal for the first day. He had gradually fit in with the other children and was starting to feel more comfortable. You looked at each other, both sighing in relief.

—He's my son, it would be very difficult not to become popular on the first day.

The man gave an almost correct wink, he was finally learning.

—It doesn't even seem like you were crying half an hour ago, Jude Victor.

You said, laughing softly, but the feeling of relief was so gratifying.

When they went to pick up Benji, he ran into your arms, and Jude immediately picked him up, hugging him tightly.

—How was it, champ?

Jude asked with a smile, while Benji snuggled into his father’s chest.

—It was… weird. —Benji replied, still confused, but he seemed less sad. —The kids spoke differently.

You stroked your son’s curly hair and smiled.

—But you’re learning to understand what they say in spanish, aren’t you, my love?

Ben nodded slowly, looking a little more confident.

—The teacher gave me a dinosaur.

Jude laughed and looked at you.

—See? You even got a new dinosaur! You know, we’re going to the Bernabéu this weekend, like I promised. How about it?

The mini copy of Jude smiled a small but genuine smile when he heard that. He loved the stadium and the idea of going there with his father always excited him. You crouched down next to Jude and looked into your son’s eyes.

—We’re so proud of you, Benji. You were so brave today.

You kissed his forehead, and he smiled back, finally relaxing.

As you walked to the car, Ben held his parents’ hands tightly, and you and Jude exchanged knowing, happy looks. You knew there would still be challenges, but that first day was the beginning of a new phase for your family.

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cillivnz · 7 months ago

Text

RUNAWAY BRIDE [Lord Dimitrescu]

pairing. Lord Alcides Dimitrescu x Ex!Wife Reader

genre. angst, smut.

warnings. nsfw (18+). infidelity, abandonment, cannibalism, gore descriptions, murder, separation, hunter-prey-chase dynamics, manipulation, pregnancy, cursing, pet-names, mention of cults, cunnilingus, vaginal fingering, squirting, overstimulation, clit-play, breast/nipple-play, multiple orgasms, unprotected vaginal sex, creampie, doggystyle, crying.

word count. 3.7k+

a/n. idk how i feel about this :,) sweet anon, thank you so much for requesting this! i apologise for not getting to work sooner, but i hope it was worth the time! feedback is always appreciated <3 NOT PROOFREAD. EXCUSE INACCURATE TRANSLATIONS (I USE GOOGLE)

translations. “Mireasa fugară” - The Runaway Bride. “draga mea sotie” - my darling wife. “mireasa mea fugitivă” - my runaway bride. “Comoara mea” - My precious. “căprița mea mică” - my little doe. “iubițel” - darling/sweetheart. “Draga mea” - My darling.

listening to. HIM — Lose You Tonight - Thulsa Doom Extended Dub

TEARING HELL FOR LEATHER, you were cursing Fate and her knack for irony, because as you galloped like a doe from one forest Spruce to another, you were sure you were being compared to one by your tiger hunters; a dumb doe, too.

For thinking you could outrun them.

Vampiric barbarians that chased prey like you for sport, and devoured your meaty, lifeless bodies for dinner.

‘None of it seemed to be a problem to you then, so why now, my darling?’

You could hear his voice ring in the eye of your mind, a taunt, perhaps a warning, that you had no choice now but to suffer the consequences of a lustful love that once became the root of your existence.

You had been the talk of the town, rather, every town coming under The Four Houses; firstly, for your damn-near blasphemous marriage to him, and then when you ran away from him, leaving him to be a bastard widow of sorts.

Lord Alcides Dimitrescu and his Runaway Bride.

“Mireasa fugară”

Of all titles given to you, from ‘his little doe’, to Lady Dimitrescu, or even ‘Mother Dearest’ by your adoptive children, the one that stuck was this.

As you tear through the verdure of the outskirts of your renounced Castle, you hope the now-grown men chasing you remember how you were their “Mother Dearest” as boys.

“Mother, that’s enough,” grunted Boian, your oldest, ever the most obedient and faithful, but his loyalties will remain to his father, and so he’ll hunt you down for his validation, if he must.

“Yeah, Mommy, aren’t you getting tired of the cats-and-mouse chase?” Cătălin intervened, a snarky comment always on the brat’s lips, but his mischief and naughtiness had always warmed your heart.

“Just come back to father— to us,” begged Dorin, your youngest. He had always been the most attached to the idea of you as his mother, clutching onto your dress and hiding behind you when his father would scold him for blinding the messenger raven by throwing rocks at it, and would always consider you to be the epitome of the ideal woman.

Your eyes well up at their cries for you, but you must do this. You mustn’t ever return to Castle Dimitrescu, the hellish abode of Satan himself.

Not after his cannibalistic tendencies were shamelessly rubbed in your face, a mortal noblewomen who lost the people of her kingdom to her husband’s appetite.

The night was cold, the frost blanketing over the foliage like a cruel lover’s intoxicating embrace.

Speaking of a noxious love, you were preparing in your chambers, to let go and breathe the air of freedom and quit living in a necromantic land ruled by tyranny.

“‘Ya almost done?” A thick transatlantic accent broke the eerie silence of your quarters.

Where the only sound heard was that of your beating heart, now, the planting of wet kisses along your spine was sounded, too.

“Karl…” you whimpered in hesitation,

“I know, bub, we’re leaving as soon as ‘ya finish packing.” He planted one final kiss on your shoulder before leaving you alone; once again the silence fell.

Your heart palpitated, sinking into the pit of your stomach with guilt, making you sigh as you second-guess your decision. It’s ironic how you spent your entire life in the belief of infidelity being the biggest sin— the ultimate blasphemy to betray whom you’re betrothed to, and now you’re forsaking your husband to live a “normal” life with his friend.

“Fuck me,” you groan. You were never one to use profanities so casually, but the given circumstances had you cursing like a sailor. Clutching your bag of belongings, you make your way outside of the chambers. You see your chamberlain bustling about the halls, eagerly preparing for dinner for the five of you— Lord, Lady, and children. She nods curtly at you, “Pasha, where must the Lord be,” you inquire. She immediately stops tending to the kitchen staff and pays full heed to you. “He is still at the Tower of Worship, m’ Lady,” Pasha replies.

Right, so he’s still where he’d said he’d be; where he requested you to accompany him, but you refused, feigning a faux headache that your stress soon turned genuine.

“I am going to accompany him there, don’t wait for me for supper,” you dismiss her and her ‘but’s’ of concern for your health.

As you walk towards the Tower, your steps felt faltered, meek. The damp, chilly air only constricted your breathing and the large ruby on your ring finger that once fit you like a glove, back when he proposed to you on one knee, levelling your height then, felt like needles pricking into your soft flesh— a beautiful but bitter reminder of your imprisonment.

The ruby glowed when you walked past the Tower, as if telling you that the object of your desires— your demise— is in there.

You ignore all omens screeching at you, and disappear into the night; Karl Heisenberg waiting for you on the outskirts of the town in a chariot.

“What happens now,” you inquire, breathless from kissing Karl. “We’ll live off of regular means. I’ll look for a job in welding, and you— well, bub, with a face like yours you could start your own cult,” he smirks, nuzzling his bearded face into your neck.

You try to laugh but your conscious was grim.

“HE KNOWS, IT’LL ONLY A MATTER OF TIME!” Cătălin had a possessed look on his face, his raven hair wild in the wind, yellow eyes fluorescent in the dark.

Tears stream down your face, the wind carrying them to your storming children.

You were tired, wanting the nightmare to be over. Never having anticipated these to be the consequences— hell, had you known, you would’ve never accepted either man’s proposal— neither Alcides nor Karl.

Alas, a woman’s beauty is to blame for bad luck.

When the sound of thunderous strides tearing through foliage is no longer heard behind, you stop dead in your tracks, hidding behind the largest tree of the forest, a century old banyan.

Your haggard breath created a veil of fog around you, your eyes dart in every nook and corner for a sign of your predators, not knowing they’re circling you from each direction, until the leap in front of you.

“Mamă,” Dorin cooed, his voice soft. Cătălin pushed past him, cornering you further in. He wipes the sweat on his lip with the back of his hand, his eyes flick from a pale beige colour to an electric yellow.

“Say you want us to take you back to Dad,” he grabs you by the shoulders, forcing you to look into his eyes. Your pupils dilate, your subconscious felt manipulated into a trance.

“No!” You intended to slap away his grip, but what surprised the three was that there was no need for you to. Your own eyes glimmered a fluorescent amber, hypnotising him to back off.

“That’s enough,” Dorin intervened, his voice gruff, depicting maturity you didn’t know he was capable of possessing.

Boian stood closest to you know, your eyes watering with heavy tears, like the reflection of the sun in a stream.

“Rest, mother.” His eyes shined the brightest, compelling you to comply, and your tired mind just wanted it for the sufferance to end.

THE FIRST SIGHT YOU SEE when you awoke was of the gothic ridges adorning the ceiling of your— Alcides’ bedroom.

Wait, what—

You shoot up from your grave of silk bedding, eyes landing directly on the man you were dreading, the man you abandoned, the man you married.

His kept stubble grew into a full beard, tiny specks of grey were illuminating in his roots, and he was seemingly taller, with the pride of having stolen you from the world once again.

“Good morning, draga mea sotie,” he spoke with a nonchalant face, but you of all people knew when you heard amusement in his tone. “I take it you slept well, thanks to our oldest—”

“Keep my boy off of your necromantic ways,” you cut him off.

“Dare you suggest I cut off his diet? Starve my boy? Rob him off of his luxuries—”

“I’m suggesting you raise normal nobles, not cannibals in a cult,” your voice came out weaker than you expected, and the faux offense feigned on the tyrant Lord’s face turned into a smug grin, “There’s nothing normal about nobility, and you’re one to talk,”

“They told me what happened.”

Your eyes widen— the same eyes he’s referring to right now. “No. Th-that was an accident—”

“‘That so? How come you have the symptoms of a plague that never infected you, hm?” He moves closer, from the edge of the bed to right beside your bare knees. “Unless you’ve had it embedded in you, or you’ve resorted to our diet, the odds are not in your favour, mireasa mea fugitivă.”

“How dare you call me that,” you sneered.

“How dare you hide my unborn child from me.”

“How dare you leave me.”

You dare not look at him now, face turned away from him, clenching your jaw while your eyes well up with fury.

“Comoara mea, look at me,” his large hands grab a hold of your chin, and the gentleness took you by surprise. He makes you face him, and when you look into his amber eyes your expression softens.

He stares into your glassy doe eyes, parted plump lips quivering, “There’s căprița mea mică,” he smiled— not smirked in his usual conceit, but smiled— the smile you received when you stood in the chapel of the Tower of Worship, and swore yourself to him.

His lips find yours in a yearning kiss— gentle, longing, and passionate. You clutch his half-unbuttoned shirt, remembering how you’d have to stand on your tiptoes to button them for them, not that the trimmed chest hair ever bothered you, if anything, it got you hot and bothered, which is why you buttoned him up. The fabric crinkles under your grip, and whether you were holding onto him to push him away or pull him closer was something you couldn’t figure out.

His hands tear open your blouse, and you couldn’t help but compare the act with the way you’ve caught him ripping through human flesh.

You pull away.

“You know why I left, and why I’ll leave again,” your chest heaved, breathless.

“Because I’m cruel? A cannibal?”

“Like your little paramour was any better.” He spat, and your eyes widened.

He knew about Karl, “What?”

“Please, ‘y really think he left you in a tavern full of drunken hunters every night and day to weld weapons? He’d deal in his work for a pound of flesh from the very hunters whose tables you’d been scrubbing,” he revealed, running a hand through his onyx locs.

He knew everything.

“Karl couldn’t— where is he?!” The realisation of his a sense dawned on you.

“Being served— as dinner.” He smirked.

The metal man was dead.

“Come on, don’t tell me you felt for that bastard. He was your exit ticket, I know, but other than that what’s he got,” says your ex-husband, meaning to say, “What’s he got that I don’t— that I didn’t?”

You couldn’t meet his eyes, so the tantalising question hangs over the cold tension of the room.

This time his hand grabs ahold of your nape, tugging the hair towards him.

“Don’t go all quiet on me now, my darling,” he cooed, voice husky and soft despite the harsh pain he was inflicting on your scalp.

“What do you want, Alcides?” You spat, and he smiled at his little spitfire.

“Another chance,” he spoke almost instantly, a request lingering in the air.

“—To do better for you, and my unborn child.” He’s patient, oh so careful with you, like this doe’s made of glass.

He grips your calf, causing you to wince. Immediately he searches for the reason of your pain, noting it to be a laceration.

“Lie back, relax, and let me take care of you,” he cooed, making his way to catch your lips, “Let me worship you the way I should’ve.”

You couldn’t help but lean into the kiss. He had a way with words, a way so profound that he had you wrapped around his abnormally large finger the minute he set eyes on you.

You succumb. And fuck, do you succumb?

“Mireasa fugară”, her Tyrant Lord— a cruel tale men would recite at the tavern table, laugh at Fate and her knack for irony. Perhaps, they’d compare her beauty to their distraught wives’, curse their luck for not making her theirs, they’d surely have treated her better than the Cannibal, and the barkeep ladies yearn for the sight of a mammoth hulking in their pub, offering a penny to anyone who’d tell him with whom his wife ran away with. He who hunts hunters for sport, lost all wits and appetite for destruction over a woman.

The men laugh, their ale clinks, the barkeeps scrub the tables with a satiated sigh. Such is life, a beautiful ending to a tragic tale.

His kisses follow the trail from the corner of your lips to your jawline, your prominent collarbones. He takes a minute to observe the glass flesh which was earlier always adorned in tyrian purple like a leash of love; now the slate was clean, the collar, erased— a cruel reminder of the last time you made love— so casually that night, and had he known it would’ve been the last for a very long time, he’d have given you a night to remember— not that you ever forgot.

Alcides got to work, gently suckling on your pulse points. His beard pricked your soft flesh, sending jolts of arousal through you. You bit your lip, holding back moans, but the minute his mouth landed on your breasts, you were a goner. He kneaded them, caressed and fondled them. He noticed how your breasts had swell up, your body preparing for sustaining the child that hadn’t even developed into a bump yet. His serpentine tongue peaked out, encircling your hard nipple. Wet kisses trailed along the valley of your breasts, every inch of your body was covered in his essence.

When he reached your belly, he peered at you. Amber yellow eyes were blown out in lust, staring into the crests of your soul as his lips pressed into your flesh in a chaste kiss.

“It’s happy,” he began, causing your trance to break momentarily, “To have its parents back together,” he continued. A swell of overwhelm gathered in your heart, but that was every moment in a relationship with Alcides.

All thoughts and sense left your mind when his face was between your thighs. His broad shoulders were enough to have you fully spread out for him, even more than you’d like. He observed your body, the flutter of your walls, the blood rush to your clit, all were odes to his heed, and with immediate urgency.

The first lick to your cunt sent you spiralling back to doomsday. What every fibre of your being tried to prevent was unravelling right before your eyes, and the worst part? You wanted it to happen, you craved it, needed it like he needed human flesh. Maybe you two weren’t so different in your desires, you gnaw at his being alive and he eats corpses.

“Prettiest pussy,” he spoke, smothered in your thighs. His gentle licks were putting pressure on your sensitive spots, the texture of his abnormal tongue had always coaxed your soul to ooze through your orgasmic tides. Your clit was constantly taunted by the tip of his tongue, flicking and sucking on the bundle of nerves, relishing in the sight of you writhing and pulsating.

Soon enough, his tongue slipped into your velvety walls, the wet muscle stretching your constricting walls in a manner so painfully good.

Sex with Alcides had always been excruciatingly good, and tonight this artist put on his finest performance for his favourite audience of one.

You were squirming in his grasp, trying to get away before coming undone, but he wouldn’t budge, if anything, his tongue dove in deeper into your clenching pussy.

With fervent rubs of your clit, he had you coming in his mouth, a celestial maiden quenching the thirst of a mortal with ichor.

You struggled in overstimulation, but Alcides only lapped further at the juices dripping down his chin.

“One,” he rose, parting your legs further. He positioned his fingers on your mound, pressing down firmly. The feel of your cunt convulsing with need sent him tremors down his spine. He eased a finger in, and you gasped at the sudden intrusion. The sharp digit sat fat and deep inside you, slowly curling to the rhythm of its master’s drum.

Your clit throbbed, and with senses as heightened as yours, it ached. Alcides was quick to soothe or intensify the pain, leaning in to lick leisurely at the bud, while his finger teased your sweet spot.

Another digit in had tears welling up in your eyes, and soon the stream flowed down your cheeks as his rhythm picked up pace.

“Hurts, iubițel,” you whined, and Alcides froze.

‘iubițel’, was something he hadn’t been addressed as for years. A genuine smile flashed on his handsome face, you’re accepting it— accepting him.

“I know, Draga mea, but you can take it,” he got back to sucking your clit while scissoring your cunt open with his thick digits. “Alcides, fuck!” You moaned wantonly, gushing all over him. He grinned from ear to ear, eager to coax more of that squirt out. His movements tripled in velocity, and soon enough, he pulled out only to replace his digits with his mouth, drinking every spurt of your juices.

“Two,” he groaned, licking his glistening lips.

He pulled you closer by the neck, crashing his lips onto yours in a passionate tango of tongue. He was quick to turn you around, manhandling you on your fours came naturally to him; too easily did you comply.

The feeling of his fat cockhead rubbing against your tender entrance was nostalgic to say the least, but fear of not being able to take him soon crept it. Even when he’d fuck you day and night, you could barely, just barely accommodate the mammoth’s monster cock, and now that it’s been years without practise, you could only pray to Gods you wouldn’t rip in half.

As the tip slide in, you felt a wave of euphoria crash your shores of uncertainty. Concealing in lust was the love you had now opened yourself up for.

Alcides spread your ass, relishing in the feel of the plump fat of your curves in his large palms. He gave your hips a squeeze before letting his palm fall on the swell of your ass.

You gasped at the smack, looking back at him through wet eyelashes. “My little doe, my beautiful, beautiful wife,” he gave you a chaste kiss on the forehead.

He pushed in further and further until no inch was left, until your thighs were clad together and your bodies conjoined.

Feeling merciful, Alcides decided to let you adjust to his intrusion. As you clenched and cried on his cock, Alcides took a minute to close his eyes and smile on cloud nine. The feel of your warm, tight, wet cunt choking his cock to death was a feeling he longed for, and it was then he knew no other desire of his could amount to you. He would leave it all for you. He will.

“Alcides, fuck,” your pornographic moans were sound in the whole chambers. He set out a slow pace, yet every thrust was felt in your cervix. “Good G-God, darling,” Alcides moaned, his breath hitched as your tight channel gripped him like a vice.

He snaked a hand to settle between your thighs, pinching your clit.

You were in tears, beads of sweat pearlescent on your body, brows furrowed in pleasure and pain, a beautiful symphony.

“Slow down—” you managed to shriek, but Alcides was too far gone to act on it, he could only bring you solace to endure what his desires have in store for you. He kisses your spine, bathing your silk skin in wet kisses.

He pounded into your cunt, the whole room rumbling with the thrusts of the titan above you. He had an ironclad grip on your hips, slamming them back on his cock as he pistons into you. “Fuck, I couldn’t live without you,” he croaked.

“Don’t leave me again, please,” he beseeched, causing you to nod rapidly, face buried into the sheets.

“Alcides, I’m going to—” your tears and slick stained the sheets, you broke down on his cock, the sensation, the memories too much for your precious and fragile little heart to endure.

He pulled out.

He glared at your gaping hole, your flustered face crying in frustration at the painful denial.

Alcides slams inside of you, “I need— need to look at you while I cum,” he groaned, resuming his animalistic thrusts.

Your legs wrapped around his narrow waist, nails ripping through the flesh of his broad back.

Rutting into your cunt, he bent forwards to catch your bouncing breasts into his mouth, squeezing the two together.

He left your hip to abuse your clit, tormenting the swollen bud with overstimulation.

“Cum with me. Cum with your husband,” he was lost inside of you. Rambling sweet nothings like never before, making every cell inside of you swell up with love and lust.

“Alcides!” You moaned, feeling his warm seed shoot into you.

“Oh my god!” You saw stars.

It finally came to you, in bits and pieces of your being, Fate isn’t cruel, but comic.

“Three,” he groaned, crashing beside you.

Three earth-shattering orgasms for the three years you abandoned him.

“I love you, I’ll do anything for you,” he caressed the side of your face.

“I love you, too,” you sighed, feeling exhaustion embrace you.

You spent so long running, only for your strides to lead you back to bed with him, to home.

Fate isn’t cruel but comic, because the bones you were so against finding devoured in your house became your daughter’s favourite toys.

Just like her father, Alcides, Alcina Dimitrescu loves the grotesque, but her doe of a mother even more.

main masterlist. more of Lord Dimitrescu. SEE ALSO. important clarification in rgds to this fic.

#lord dimitrescu #lord dimitrescu x reader smut #lord dimitrescu smut #lord dimitrescu sons #lord dimitrescu x reader #lady dimitrescu genderbent #resident evil village #resident evil #lady dimitrescu #size difference #resident evil dimitrescu #monsterfuck #monster smut #vampire smut #divorce #ex wife #makeup sex #🧚‍♀️ anon

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minolikeswords · 19 days ago

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Perhaps it is the greater grief, after all, to be left on earth when another is gone- Jing Yuan x GN! Reader

cw: death, sad Jing Yuan, Jing Yuan is a sweetie, mention of pet death, angst, marriage, hurt/mild comfort???? Lmk if I missed anything <3

wc: 873 words

Mino’s notes: willed this into existence while staring at my own worn rings in the shower lmao. I hope you like it <3

Jing Yuan was not a sentimental man. Throughout his very long life, he’d learned to let go of small attachments. He lived in the moment. The present and the present only, his past had haunted him for long and his future was in his palms. So there was just the present.

Besides, the general was often too tired to even pay mind to most matters of his past. Yet it slipped out sometimes, in small, barely noticeable items he had around him. Snowmoon’s red collar placed on a shelf by his desk, he’d rub the golden bell hanging from it every morning. A silent greeting to a pet (family) long gone. Pictures thrown deep within his closet he’d find maybe once a month while cleaning, letters and mementos from friends he’d lost and friends he rarely saw anymore.

But his favourite keepsake?

A shiny, golden, nearly perfect (though he’d agree it was already) ring that he kept around his neck. One he kissed many times while working. Polished every week. It lay directly over his heart most times. A reminder of who he once had and loved with all his being.

Jing Yuan liked you since you started working with him. Witty, smart, easy going, fun and always eager to learn. He found himself smitten in a few months alone, finding any excuse to keep you near him. You gave him hope.

It was great, you were both happy. He doesn’t know when it started, maybe he’d realized how fragile humans were? Maybe he’d realized how easy it was to hurt you, how easily you got sick. He didn’t know what to do, and it tore him apart.

“I already know I won’t live as long as you, ‘Yuan,” you murmured, your fingers rubbing his scalp as he sat between your legs in the shower. Jing Yuan let out a soft and irritated noise at that.

“It doesn’t bother you? You aren’t frightened?” Bright yellow eyes stared up at you and you smiled at him. He’s never seen a smile like yours since. Even then it made his chest tighten and his heart stutter. You lean down and kiss his forehead.

“It scares me every day, my love. But right now, I am here, and we are together. Is that not what matters?” You whisper against his hair, taking in his smell. Truth be told it terrified you. Jing Yuan knew it as well as you did, someone who lived as long as him was not ignorant to how death loomed over all.

But now, you were here, in his arms, where he could hold you and love you.

“I’ll love you always, you know that right?” He said suddenly, gazing at you as you read. Your head resting on his chest and his hands brushing through it. You smile amusedly, turning to look at your lover.

“I could never ask that of you. It is selfish.”

He hummed, the corners of his mouth turned upwards, “you’re the only one I get to be selfish with, so allow me to indulge, my dove.”

Jing yuan now rests against his chair in his office. Hands idly fidgeting with his own ring, the gold worn from the decades of use. He rarely ever took it off, a fear of losing it. He missed you, he couldn’t wait to visit you today.

It was your birthday. Normally he’d decorate your whole house to surprise you when you returned, set up candles, rose petals, set up a table for dinner and cook a meal for you both. Today? He was going to drop by the bakery and pick up your favourite sweets.

He didn’t like them very much, and you always insisted that you didn’t either. Yet, without fail, he’d get them for you every week, and yet, without fail, you’d wake up at night, slip out from besides him and eat as many as you could without getting sick. Never questioning where they kept coming from even when you both knew.

The bakery stood the same all the years you were together. The lady behind the counter smiling as he picked up a box, a flower taped to the top, “for the spouse, general?” She asked politely, and Jing Yuan nodded, “no one but.”

He walked to the cemetery that day. It was chilly out and you would’ve enjoyed the weather, grabbed his hand and laughed and pulled him along with you. Looking up at the sky and wondering if it would’ve rained. Oh how you loved the rain and how he loved watching you.

Your gravestone greeted him the same as it did everyday. Some people would say it was overkill to visit everyday, but it wasn’t. Not for Jing Yuan. He couldn’t get enough of you. He placed the box on your grave, fingers brushing against the cold stone, over your name. Eyes stinging with tears that your hands couldn’t wipe away. He smiled all the same and sat down on the dirt, opening the box and pulling a sweet out and taking a bite as he began to tell you about his day.

“I will see you soon, someday, Dove. Until then, allow me to be a little selfish for a while longer.”

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victoria-grimesss · 1 year ago

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tear you apart - part II

masterlist

-> Pairing: König x fem!reader

-> Words: 3.5k

-> Warning: MDNI! nfsw, fem!reader, dominant!könig, size difference, over the desk, blindfold, unprotected sex, rough sex but there’s aftercare, google translate German.

~> A/N: first time writing smut please go easy on me I beg of thee.

It’s been a couple days since the training session with König. You've built up a nice routine around the new base and made some friendly conversations with some other new recruits both bonding over the complexities of your new home away from home.

Would it be weird to say you miss the presence of the colonel?

Is it strange that you’ve already become so attached to having him near those few times. Having his eyes gaze into you as though you’re all that exists?

No right?

Right.

He haunts your dreams, appears to you when you’re most restless to smooth your hair under his touch and whisper sweet things to you, how he wants to be your eternal love, to live a life filled with passion and fire. Your veins run with lava as his hand in your hair traces down to your neck, so small in my grasp, he tells you, how easy it would be to wrap my hand around and squeeze, he says it so sweetly to you. You hum listlessly, lost in his gaze and willing for his touch. You are mine and mine only you understand? You always wake before he even takes off a glove, you're drenched in sweat and the blankets stick to you. But these dreams are common since you’ve met him. You wonder if he dreams the same; if he’s coming to you in these dreams and expressing his deepest desires.

Silly girl you think, he wouldn’t.

Sometimes you think you see him, the corner of your eyes play tricks on you. He’s too big to move that fast, but you feel the burn of his eyes on the back of your head when you’re in the kitchen making your morning drink at times. It feels the same as it did when he laid eyes on you in the meeting room, electric.

“L/N!” You turn, it’s your captain.

“Sir.”

“Look honey I’m runnin late and these papers need to go to the big guy you mind handing them over? Thanks a lot.” He basically shoved them into your arms and you have to gather them up quickly as to not let them end up as a heap on the cold floor. This whole interaction lasts the better of 30 second.

Your eyes roll at the pet name and how this work could have been shoved on anyone else but no, gotta be the new girl.

A new girl who most definitely totally doesn’t have a crush *ehem* ~ creepy infatuation with the boss. ~

You vaguely remember the way to his office; the captain shot some directions at you as he walked away from handing off his task to you.

To the left then the right then the door second to last one on the right. You repeat these as you readjust your grip on the papers.

As you approach you grow more and more nervous, it’s just your super-hot boss who you’re giving papers to nothing more nothing less. But your hand stays still at your side, your other full of papers.

Just knock.

Your hand is in front of the door, and you knock loudly making your presence known.

“Enter.” He sounds just as he did last time. Domineering.

You open the door slowly, the light in the hall behind you flickers and your heart beats in time with the moth's wings that fly directly towards that light. You feel like that moth drawn to the light.

He sits at his desk, papers in his hand, he’s shed his utility helmet and usual mask for a plain black baklava which is fitting all the same for him. The whole room smells like him, it envelopes you and swallows you whole as you close the door.

His eyes stay on the papers but his concentration isn’t on them anymore, it’s on you.

You’ve come to him, as he thought you would. His mind has been on nothing but you, your file is always on his desk, he’s memorized every word on it.

His favorite colors are now those of your eyes, hair, lips and skin. You’ve become his very own Medusa and he can’t help but become stone when he sees you. If only you knew the grasp you had on him. If only you would grasp him and hold him tight.

“You have something for me yes?” The lamp behind him casts him as a shadow and illuminates his figure but his eyes are bright.

You walk closer, the room is quiet besides some soft music on the record player on the far side of the room next to another door.

“The captain requested I bring you these papers, important intel I suppose.”

“Shame. And here I was thinking you’ve just come to visit me.” There’s that teasing tone again.

Your cheeks heat up despite your best effort to maintain a cool façade. You’re upset you don’t have a mask to hide your expression.

You hand him the papers, neatly organized now. He reaches with one hand and takes them from you, his gloved hand brushes yours and you lock eyes, goosebumps race up your arm from the point of contact.

You grin and look down.

“I would think you’d have more interesting visitors than me colonel.”

He grows stiff at your mention of rank, calling him by his title.

His eyes scan the papers noting the important parts.

“Schatz, you are the most important visitor I’ve had the honor of having.” His gaze is heavy on you.

You are still at his words, is he insinuating what you think he is?

He’s holding bait right in front of your face.

“I highly doubt that sir, a guy like you must have many visitors….I’m sure you have many beautiful suitors.”

You bite.

He chuckles, it’s low and deep and he groans at the end.

“I have my eyes on one Ja. She has become the object of my attraction.”

Your heart skips a beat wondering if he means another woman besides you. You bite your lip wearing at the skin. You open your mouth to start and then close it.

He watches your mouth as you do so and wishes to feel it upon him, as you take him wholly.

“Speak, do not hold your tongue.”

“I-I um I suppose I’m just curious as to what woman could gain your attraction. To be honest sir I thought you were married.”

His attention is most definitely no longer on the papers, or anything job related. His mind wholly encompassed by you and your words.

He hums lowly and you imagine that it vibrates his chest.

“Come to this side of my desk Schatz.”

You obey, walking to the other side of his desk and standing next to him, facing the door you entered in.

“My desk, do you see any family portraits?”

“No sir.”

He takes off his gloves and you feel like a Victorian man seeing an ankle.

“Do you see a wedding band?”

“No sir.”

After this he stands, his full height towering above you combined with the soft music, dim lighting, and the way he looks down at you makes your knees weak and your lower stomach burn. He walks over to the door you entered and stands for a moment. You wonder if you’ve asked too much, dug yourself a hole and he’s about to ask you to leave.

“I’m sorry if I stepped over the line I didn’t mean it, I can leave if you want.” He locks the door. Your heart locks up all the same at the sound.

“No, Schatz I’d rather you stay, and I think you'd rather stay too. Am I right?” He turns his head to look at you and the way he’s standing you can see all the muscles in his back defined from the lighting and you yearn to rake your nails over them and leave a well-deserved mark.

“I would.” Your words are breathy, and you hardly know if you spoke at all but his response confirms you did.

He walks back over to you and your feet are stuck in cement. He stops when he's behind you. You can hear his breathing behind you so you know he’s actually there, he's real and this is real.

“You know I watch you right? Does it frighten you?”

“No colonel.”

“None of that here, not anymore. Just König ok Süßes Mädchen

Your knees actually nearly do give out this time, God he’s too much. Your breathing is quick now and you feel feverish he’s not even touching you yet but standing there and you don’t know what will kill you first your rapid heart rate or the anticipation.

“You want me, Ja?

“God yes.” You nearly whine and he lets out a deep laugh. He readjusts his stance.

“Do you usually get this worked up before you’re even touched?” His voice is lighter now, he’s teasing.

“Only for you.” You say almost immediately.

“Say that again.” His voice is dark again and it makes your stomach twirl.

“Only for you König.” You’ve stepped headfirst into the lion’s den and you know there's no going back from this, you thought it was just a silly crush but this is so much more, for the both of you.

He inhales deeply and lets it out, even with his mask you can feel it lightly on the back of your head.

His head is spinning with thoughts of what he wants to do to you, you were making him crazy.

“Ich schwöre bei Gott, Liebling, du wirst mein Tod sein.” [I swear to God darling, you will be my death.] You're not sure what he said but you hear his groan at the end so it must be erotic.

“Konig, please.”

“Shhh quiet Schätzchen.”

There's a beat of silence and you think your heart stops then you feel his hand on your back. It travels up until he gets to your hair, he grabs a handful of it but doesn't pull or tug, just holds. You’re growing wetter by the minute and you ache deeply. You rub your thighs together and that’s when he pulls.

He tugs you back into him and your head is pointed up now so he's looking directly down at you. You whimper and his eyes are nearly pitch black as he stares at you, he drinks you in as if you’re the last bit of water on earth.

“Scheisse you know if we do this there is not going back, I will not let you lay with another and I will never lay with anyone besides you.” His words echo in your head and you weigh your options,

Option A: sleep with König, your superior and maybe face some very serious consequences.

or…

Options B: go back to your room and absolutely resort you what’s in your bedside drawer to relieve yourself…..

Survey says, option A all the way.

“I wouldn't want it any other way sir.” You make sure to say it extra breathily as to draw him into the spiral he's sent you into.

His grip tightens ever so before he releases and you stumble a bit but a hand on your waist catches you and the coals within you are stoked even more to where they rage into an inferno.

“I would like to share more of myself with you eventually but for now... This will have to do.”

He says no more before fabric is enclosed around your eyes and your vision darkens. It must be his regular mask because it smells so strongly of him it makes you dizzy, his scent all encompassing.

“König.”

“My name sounds so sweet when it comes from your lips, I beg to hear more of it.”

His hands, both of them, are on your middle now he holds you steady and moves them upwards and cups your breasts above your uniform you let out a soft breath.

He closes his eyes and inhales deep against your crown.

“I knew you would smell wonderful Mein Schatz. You feel like heaven in my hands you know that?”

His hands move to the buttons of your uniform and he wastes no time in discarding it to the ground along with your undershirt.

“Turn around.”

You turn around and he once again grabs tight on your hair pulling your head back and exposing your neck.

He pulls up his baklava knowing he won’t be seen.

He bites.

Hard.

You let out a shameless moan and quickly slap a hand over your mouth, but he grabs your wrist and holds it behind you back your other hand is grabbing onto his hair.

“You’ll express your pleasure. I want everyone to hear so they know I’m occupied.”

He’s sucking dark bruises into your neck and leaving teeth marks in his wake. He lavishes in the way your skin tastes. He knows you sweat at some point today and your perfume is on his tongue.

“König please, I need more.”

“Gladly.” You feel him smile on your skin.

Next thing you know you’re spun around again and you’re pushed down over the desk his hand heavy on your neck.

“Stay.” He commands.

His hand is removed and he works at your pants pulling them down and to your ankles, he slides his hands all around the newly exposed skin and you hear his drop to his knees.

“Mein Gott, you are something to behold, you are beautiful you know that?”

You blush the heat growing hotter between your thighs.

There’s no time to respond before he’s diving into your heat tongue hot and wet upon you as he sucks and licks like his life depends on it.

“You taste divine, I could die here and die a happy man Liebling, scheiße”

You moan and your cheek touches the cold wood of the desk as he continues his ravaging.

“König please, I need-need more.”

He hears your pleas and it spurs him on, he’s desperately hard in his pants and palms at it a few times before collecting your wetness and entering one then two fingers.

“Is this enough for you? Or do you need more? So bedürftig.” He teases as he pumps them in the out in a come-hither motion getting quicker and quicker.

Your breathing picks up. It’s in short pants now as you get close and closer to the edge. He can feel you squeezing his fingers tighter and he latches his mouth back on as his fingers works faster.

“Come on Schatz give me a show.” He smiles and teases and he just can’t get enough even as you try to thrash and tense on his fingers reaching your high you chant his name and he’s heard nothing sweeter.

“You make such beautiful noises Meine Liebe .” He bites at the inside of your thighs as he stands.

You hear a belt buckle and a zipper undone, mouthwatering in anticipation as you’re still coming down from your previous high.

He takes himself out and strokes it slowly a few times placing a hard harshly on your hip as he lines himself up and teases the tip at your entrance.

He’s massive compared to you and he’s burning up looking and predicting the way you’ll feel around him.

“Schatz, one last chance to change your mind.” He grits through his teeth.

“Please König, I need you badly.”

He takes not a second longer after you answer to sink fully into you and to say you’re surprised is an understatement. He’s huge, incredible deliciously huge and the stretch of him knocks the breath from your lungs and he bends over you, his whole body laying just above you so his mouth is right next to your ear.

“You feel even more incredible than I could ever dream, you wrap around me so sweetly.”

He pulls back and braces both of his hands on your hips with a bruising grip and starts moving, he’s deliberate and calculated with his movements thrusting deep and harsh.

You moan loudly with the blindfold all your other senses are heightened. You grasp and scratch behind you trying to slow his movements you mind hazy with only thought of how good he’s making you feel.

“P-please, god König.” You can hardly make out your own thoughts, he groans and continues his onslaught of torture on you.

You try to slow him again but this time he takes a hold of your wrists and slams them down onto the desk. You continue to moan with abandonment.

“You’ll take what given to you, understand?” He leans down and kisses your cheek, panting you can feel the sweat on his face combining with yours.

Leaning back, he watches the way he enters you and the noises are unholy, seeing you bent over his desk so willing and drunk off of him nearly makes him cum right then and there.

Suddenly a knock at the door.

He doesn’t stop and you clamp both hands over your mouth now. He growls deep in his chest.

“Busy.” He grits out.

They knock again but he doesn’t stop.

“Are you fucking kidding me? c’mon be a good girl and let them know I’m busy.” His accent is heavy and laced with need.

You can hardly think straight and his words sound underwater. You only become semi-conscious again when he picks you by your shoulder, up holding you up to his chest by your neck as he continues his onslaught.

“Take your hands off your mouth unless you want me to tie those up too, I told you to tell them I’m busy.” He growls right by your ear and he thrust particularly hard and deep you choke on your sobs and a moan rips from your throat. It’s so erotic you hardly recognize yourself, the last knock was cut short, and you hear quick shuffling down the hallway.

“Braves Mädchen, so good for me. Fuck, need you to cum with me I won’t last much longer.”

“F-fuuck don’t stop.”

The coil within you is growing and winding and you feel you’re heading headfirst into a spiral panting and calling his name with no care for the outside world you reach up and claw at what you can reach of his expansive shoulders certainly leaving marks and he groans and grinds to show his appreciation.

“Cmon, give it to me, give it to me.” He says, each thrust his hand on your hips growing even tighter and his thrusts getting sloppy as he nears his high. He grips your jaw now slipping a finger into your mouth and you taste yourself on them and the coil snaps.

Your ears are ringing, white blinds your vision, and you’re overcome with oxytocin unlike no other.

König fills you deeply grinding to the hilt so none of him is left exposed.

You feel boneless and limp in his arms but completely and utterly satisfied.

The blindfold is removed and he’s tapping your cheek, the finger that was in your mouth leaving spit in its wake but you have no care.

“Y/N, Y/N, come in back to me Schatz.” You open your eyes and hum.

“So good.” You hiccup and you see he has his baklava fully on but his eyes are crescent shape, his eyes look lovely when he’s smiling.

“I take it you enjoyed yourself?” He’s pulling out and you wince but he’s quickly pulling his desk chair out for you to sit and gain you sanity back.

“That’s putting it lightly...” you can’t seem to wipe the dumb smile plastered on your face.

He’s pulling up his pants and re-buckling his belt, you get butterflies watching him do it.

He then walks to what looks like a bathroom connected to the office, coming back with a washcloth and cleans you gently kissing the top of your head.

“Cmon let’s get you dressed then yeah. As much as I love seeing you in my chair like that, we’ll play that scenario out another day.” He picks up your panties and stuffs them into his pocket and helps you put on your pants.

“I need those König.”

“I’ll buy you some more, these are for my personal collection.” You huff, legs feeling like jelly, and he rubs your back as you’re buttoning your jacket.

“Very well, I won’t fight a losing battle for those, at least they’re not my favorite pair-

“I’d like those as well.”

“Stop it!” You both laugh and he sounds so wonderful worry free.

He gives you some water and sits back at his desk. You stand in the same spot you were in before everything happened.

“That was a great pleasure and I hope it brought you the same.” God he’s so formal after just rearranging your guts, you laugh like a schoolgirl.

“I did, I um, would love to do this again, or just spend more time with you.”

His heart lights up and he knows he’s got you for good,

“Schatz, my door is always open to you, granted both my office and bedroom door.” He winks at you and you blush.

You walk to the door and look back at him before you leave.

“Don’t forget about those papers I brought you.” You fake authority.

“Yes ma’am.” He laughs and watches you until the door is closed.

He takes your panties out of his pocket already missing your presence next to him, next time can’t come soon enough.

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judesmoonbeauty · 3 months ago

Text

Miss Fairytale Keeper, Come Have Fun With Us: Jude Jazza END

Translations will not include screenshots or CGs as mentioned here. Fan translation only. Not 100% accurate. Please expect grammatical errors. Cybird owns everything. Feel free to re-blog, but please do not post my translations elsewhere. Thank you, for you support! ☾.

When I reached out, it was Jude’s hand I took.

Jude: If ya let go of me, I won’t letcha off.

Kate: Okay!

He makes me stand up, and kicks away all those attacking me, one after the other.

Jude: Tch, what kind of management do they have to be so hated like this?

Kate: Should YOU be the one to say that about other people?!

Jude: Don’t say unnecessary things!

The ones who attacked me were thin, and looked very poor.

They’re people who’ve lost something very important to them through gambling.

Even if I do sympathize with them a little, it’s never an excuse to draw deadly weapons.

Jude: Run!

Punching and kicking, he defeats his enemies one after the other, pulling me along strongly, and as we head for the door, we dodge bullets in the thick black smoke.

As we left the casino, explosions sounded behind us.

We kept running until we reached a nearby port.

Jude: I’m havin’ a real shitty day.

Kate: Is it okay now?

Our fastened hands were easily released, and the warmth of my right hand cooled quickly.

Feeling a bit lonely, I opened my mouth to gloss it over.

Kate: In the end, we didn’t collect any evidence.

Jude: There’s evidence.

Kate: What?

I’m not sure where he got it from, but holding a thick ledger in his hands, he handed it to me.

When I looked inside, I saw things other than money that had been wagered in the casino so far, and a list of customers who received them alongside Viscount Smith’s signature.

Kate: When did you get this?!

Jude: Took it from that damned Viscount when the explosion happened.

(I couldn’t see because of the smoke, but I guess that’s what happened.)

Based on the overwhelming evidence, the casino will be brought to justice before her Majesty the Queen.

Just as I was feeling relieved over completing the mission, I suddenly remembered something.

Kate: If I had known that I was being used for collateral, I would’ve bet….

(I knew that Jude would win…..)

Then he made a disgusted expression…..

Jude: Our princess doesn’t seemta understand why she was prohibited.

As we stood facing each other, the sea breeze blew through his hair.

Jude: Ain’t no way someone who shows their emotions so easily could win.

Jude: Imagine how much a young woman without much money would hafta pay if she lost?

(Ah…..)

I recall the words of Viscount Smith and realize.

(Selling my body, experiencing atrocious things, the worst case scenario….)

A chill ran down my spine as I realized how naive I’d been.

The client list had records of women and children being sold, and I finally understood those repeated words had been for my sake.

(Jude said that he’d protect me.)

Feeling mixed emotions of his kindness and my own naivete, i bit my lip and looked down, but when his shoes came into view, I looked up.

Jude: Really, cantcha say thanks to the person who saved ya?

Kate: …! Thank you.

When I expressed my gratitude to him, who is foul-mouthed but kind,

Jude: Seems like Crown’s Fairytale Keeper has grown attached to the admirable Vogel.

Jude: Kissin’ the winner. I think ya wanted that bad personality.

Kate: That’s something Nica said on his own,

Jude: Such good friends that yer on a first name basis. (Jude’s angy face.)

His raised voice and pouty expression, seemed to indicate he was in a bad mood.

Jude: I mean, is the princess even bold ‘nuff to kiss a man herself.

Upset with his making fun of me, I confronted him.

Kate: It’s just a kiss, I can do it.

Jude: If so, then I’ll betcha won’t.

Kate: If I can kiss you?

Jude: I’ll do anythin’ ya say. Probably impossible anyway.

He’s so confident I can’t do it despite my enthusiasm.

We faced and stared at each other for a while,

(Where should I kiss him……) T-T on the lips.

I looked at his lips, but didn’t have the courage, so I felt conflicted,

Jude: ….Ridiculous. (I’m with him on this one.)

He turned on heel and walked away.

Kate: W-wait a minute!

I quickly grabbed his arm and stood on my tip toes as he looked back at me,

Jude: Huh?

I kissed his forehead.

Kate: ….I kissed you.

Kate: Now, please listen to what I have to say.

He put his hand to his forehead, his eyes slightly open,

Kate: I’m Crown’s Fairytale Keeper, not Vogel’s Fairytale Keeper!

Starting to feel embarrassed, I ran past him.

Kate: That’s why I’m going home!

A few seconds later, with the sound of him turning around, only one word was heard.

Jude: Kid.

(He’s making fun of me again…..!)

When I turned to say something back, I saw the softest expression on his face.

Kate: Huh……

It was as warm as sunlight, and it was the first time I’d seen it.

It felt like time had stopped for a moment,

Jude: What kinda dumb look are ya makin’?

His grumpy face returned immediately.

Jude: Hurry ‘n go home.

He started walking and I followed him quickly.

Kate: Please wait!

Perhaps the reason why I didn’t stand next to the swinging jacket that was a step ahead of me, was because the excitement I felt still hadn’t gone away.

[Master List] [Jude Epilogue]

Heh, jelly Jude. Pouty Jude. More of that please.

Dividers: @.adornedwithlight

Tags List: @sh0jun @theimaginativelyreticent @sapphire-323 @letter-from-afar @nateko @cosmowgyrall. @lunaaka

#jude jazza #ikevil jude #jude jazza translations #cybird translations #ikevil translations

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slu7 · 2 years ago

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ᶻz﹒ dragon!zhongli & afab!reader ﹐

– cw﹕ zl having heat cycles · breeding kink · feral zl · jealousy becoming a sex drive or smt · non-con if you squint (not my intention) · overstim · creampies · use of the terms ‘cunt’ & ‘cock’ · etc. ✶

– an﹕ this has been rotting in my brain and i have no idea whether someone already wrote this or not,

B Ü T I M A G I N E ⁺ ☆

okay but imagine you being born and growing up in mondstadt but travelling to liyue only to end up marrying the geo archon himself. imagine if zhongli has heat cycles and you being his lovely little wife, you help him throughout every cycle he goes through. imagine him whispering how much he wants to fill you to the brim, fill you ‘til you're full of him and overflowing whenever that time comes. imagine zhongli not stopping even for a moment to give you a break after your nth orgasm because he's too lost in pleasure. him rutting into you as if he has been holding back his desire for the longest time.

all your pleas for him to go slower falls through deaf ears, your body shaking and walls continuously clenching as zhongli continues to pound into your sopping cunt. the combination of pain and pleasure leaves you babbling incoherent words, whilst deep grunts and curses leaves his swollen lips; words muffled as his lips are still attached to the nape of your neck. kissing, licking, sucking, marking you as his.

hours pass by but it seems that he's not even halfway done with you. you could always use your safe word, but the pleasure you're feeling is replacing your words with moans and whines. oh, how he loved how you're singing for him. zhongli fucked you with precision and it only made you see stars. his lips never leaving you as his hands fondles with you softly.

you're approaching, yet again, another climax, you writhed and squirmed in his hold. he held your hips and continued to fuck you with fervor. “fuck– oh lord barbatos,” you whined as you approach your high. his movements suddenly halting. you realized what you said and it was like digging your own grave. it took him only a few seconds before he continued to rut into you, with greater eagerness and passion. and it went on for hours and hours, he fucked you with vigor as if he was molding his cock into your walls, coming undone inside you like your heart constantly pumping blood. he wanted to show you that it was morax who was making you feel this good, not barbatos, not anyone else.

strictly do not repost, translate, or plagiarize my blog. reblogs, feedback, and hearts are highly appreciated!

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thef1diary · 7 months ago

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Baby Jr | Three

— Salacious Daydreaming

Series Masterlist

pairing: carlos sainz x reader

warnings: 18+ smut, bj, allusions to unprotected sex (don’t do that)

wc: 3.1k

You were the only one remaining in the meeting room, taking down last-minute notes, when you heard someone step in and close the door, drawing your attention to them. It was Carlos.

With a swift stride, he approached you, yanking your chair away from the table. He tilted your chin upwards, and placed his lips on yours. You didn't have time to say anything; only a gasp escaped your lips before your eyes closed and you instinctively wrapped your arms around him. While you remained seated in the chair, his own palms moved down your sides and he tightened his hold around your waist before lifting you up.

Carlos' lips remained on yours, claiming each gasp and moan that left your mouth, muffling the sounds for any potential listeners outside. Briefly losing yourself amidst his kisses, you were startled by the clattering sounds of the items falling to the ground that were once on the table. Carlos cleared your belongings to make room on the table before setting you down on it.

He pecked your lips again and then began to back away, causing a whine to escape your mouth. Your palms immediately clasped his cheeks, luring him in for another kiss. He chuckled at your antics, but still followed along. Attaching your lips together until you lost your breath to the point of potential dizziness, yet you would gladly give it up again and again just to become intoxicated by his kisses.

Carlos kneeled down in front of you, causing you to instantly spread your legs, placing one foot on the table's edge while your palm tangled in his hair.

You wrinkled your brows, unable to hear a word that came out of his mouth as he gazed up at you and said something. Then, you heard your name, but it wasn't spoken by Carlos.

You quickly blinked a few times after feeling a palm shake you by your shoulder and you realized that you weren't in a conference room with Carlos but rather with your regular media team amidst a meeting. You were thinking about Carlos even though he wasn't physically there.

"Sorry, can you repeat that?" you asked and scanned over everyone for a brief moment, not knowing who actually spoke.

"Are you feeling alright?" One of your closest colleagues, Ava, asked instead.

You nodded, refraining from responding verbally while clenching your thighs together. Your cheeks had heated up in shame over having zoned out in the middle of the conference for the first time ever, but also due to the specific scenario you were envisioning in your daydream.

The meeting resumed as normal, with another member repeating her words from earlier.

"As I was saying..."

You tried to focus on her words, but your gaze focused on Carlos who was walking alongside Charles just outside of the room.

You believed that he could feel your gaze because he stopped walking and looked through the glass doors, easily spotting you inside. You were no longer paying attention to the meeting as soon as he made direct eye contact with you.

He raised his brows in question, wanting to know the thoughts running through your mind while sitting in a meeting, especially since your gaze on him remained unwavering. The corner of his lips turned up in a smirk, a little egotistical once he realized that all your attention was for him and only him.

Charles' didn't notice the little staring contest going on between you and Carlos since he was still sharing the latest piece of gossip he had heard earlier from Pierre. Similar to you, nothing that left his mouth was heard by Carlos.

His attention remained on you, disregarding his teammate completely. Carlos winked after he gently jerked his head in the direction of the corridor from which he had come, trying to communicate nonverbally.

In response, you furrowed your eyebrows briefly before raising them in confusion. He playfully rolled his eyes, and glanced at Charles to check if he was paying attention but saw him smiling while texting on his phone.

Again, rolling his eyes at his teammates' antics, Carlos looked at you. This time, he pointed his finger at you, then beckoned you to come closer.

Your eyes widened and you began shaking your head before stopping and thinking about the possible consequences of leaving a meeting in the middle, something you had never done before.

Fortunately, no one was sitting across from you which meant you had a clear view of Carlos. However, Ava was sitting next to you, which meant that she also had a clear view of Carlos.

She watched the silent conversation you attempted to have with him but she didn't understand a single thing. Instead, she nudged you again, quickly gaining your attention this time.

"What's going on?" She asked, her gaze moving between you and Carlos.

"Nothing, why?" You were tempted to shift your sight back towards Carlos, but didn't want to bring unwanted attention from anyone else.

"You don't look well, are you sure you're fine?" Ava muttered quietly enough, leaning closer towards you.

Resting your head against her shoulder, you sighed. This was the perfect moment to leave considering you also had a proper excuse, and you were beginning to contemplate it.

Your decision was made once you saw Carlos, in your peripheral vision, leaning against the wall outside the door by himself, waiting for you.

"Maybe I don't feel too well," you whispered. Lifting your head, you looked at Ava, "do you think I could leave?"

"Maybe she'll let it go, since you never left abruptly like this," she shrugged. You turned to look at Silvia, your supervisor, who was in charge of the meeting. You didn't even pay attention to when the slideshow presentation she was delivering began, so as you saw it, your eyes widened.

You realized Ava wasn't incorrect after giving her words some thought. She was unaware, though, that you were merely lying to her about your health and that Carlos was the true reason you wanted to leave. The fact that the conference was boring didn't make matters any better.

"Any questions before we continue?" Silvia's voice cut through your thoughts. She gazed at everyone one by one. Once her gaze landed on you, you fanned yourself exaggeratedly and pointed at the door.

Although she furrowed her brows for a moment since she couldn't see out the door from her standpoint, she nodded, allowing you to leave.

Nodding your head in acknowledgement, you began gathering your items to leave. "I'll come check on you later and give you the rundown of the entire meeting," Ava stated.

"The entire meeting? I was here for at least half of it," you muttered back a response, trying to remain quiet since the meeting continued.

"You were barely focused, now go before you distract me too."

However, as soon as you left the conference room, Carlos was nowhere to be seen. Shaking your head at his antics, you began walking down the hallway he pointed at earlier.

Once you reached the end of the hallway, a hand pulled you over to the right; Carlos. He pressed you against the wall, caging you in between as his hands rested flat beside your head.

"Hi," he muttered, his gaze always watchful, but a tad bit softer this time as he admired you.

With your lips turning up in a smile, you pressed your hands against his chest but without any intent to push him away. "You're crazy," you responded, watching how his eyes twinkled with delight.

"Me? You're the one who left in the middle of the meeting," he shot back, making you drop your jaw with a gasp.

"And who's fault is that?"

He pressed his lips together to prevent a smile, tilting his head to the side. "Are you saying that you left because of me?"

"Not at all, it was boring anyways," you replied, biting your tongue at the brief exposure of your thoughts that your words revealed.

He nodded, "no." You knew he didn't believe you at all, but you still smiled, not really wanting him to believe you either.

"You were standing outside like a freak, how could I not be distracted?" You reasoned, earing raised eyebrows from him.

"I don't blame you, I'm quite the view to look at," he spoke with a chuckle.

You slapped his shoulder playfully, "why'd you call me out anyways?"

He smirked, "as if you don't know why." Dropping one hand from the wall, he wrapped it around your waist, pulling you closer. "I want you," he added.

"You had me a few hours ago."

He dropped his head against your shoulder, sighing. You chuckled, knowing that you wouldn't deny him, especially as you were the one dreaming about him midday, but you simply wanted to spark a reaction out of him.

Ever since that one night you spent together in your hotel room, those daydreams of yours came more often. And, as it turned out, that one night spent together didn't remain as only one night. A lot of the following nights—even days—were spent in each other's hotel rooms, or his driver's room.

Once the restraint between you snapped that night, you began craving him constantly, and it didn't help that the chemistry you shared with him continued blooming. Neither of you planned on slowing down, avariciously relishing each intimate minute spent together. However, the more time you spent together, the excitement of ignoring the repercussions started to seep into your skin and only continued to fuel your desire.

You felt his lips graze your neck, lightly at first but then with more prominent kisses. You lightly gasped when he kissed and sucked at the spot behind your ear.

Before your mind filtered out all thoughts except of him and only him, you patted his shoulder. "Carlos."

He hummed to acknowledge you but didn't relent.

"Not here," you mumbled.

Even if you were in one of the enclosed hallways where people rarely passed, you would be visible if someone were to go by.

He lifted his head, looking at you with a fond smile, "then where?"

You rolled your eyes in annoyance, but the smile on your face told a different story. "As if you don't know where," you imitated his words from earlier.

Stepping away from you, he exaggerated a bow, "well then lead the way, cariño."

Heading to his driver's room together, you chuckled and moved ahead of him. When you turned to look behind you and saw his eyes fixed on your ass, your suspicions about why he had asked you to walk in front of him were confirmed.

You were compelled to walk quickly because of the heat in his eyes, wanting to hide from potential bystanders and enjoy each other in private.

He followed you inside the room, closing the door behind. You stopped once you were standing in the middle of the room, glancing back and waiting for him to approach you.

Moments later you felt the heat of his body radiating towards you. His fingers skimmed over your sides, following your natural curves.

"I was wondering," he began, earning a hum from you, urging him to continue. "Did you miss me? Is that why you agreed so easily when I called you out?"

For a brief moment, you stopped, and Carlos sensed the tension entering your body. You turned to face him as he put his palms against your hips.

He moved his palm to your cheek, cradling it with such utmost care that all the tension dissipated into thin air. You scoffed at his question, a teasing smile making its way to your face.

"I didn't miss you." You trailed your fingers down his chest with your gaze following your movements.

Teasing the hem of his shirt, your fingers slipped underneath for a moment before hooking onto the waistband of his trousers. With your hands still moving lower, your eyes focused on his face. The corner of your lips turned up in a smirk once you saw his gaze unwavering from your hand.

The mere feeling of your fingers sliding up his clothed length already had him throbbing for the feel of your warm mouth wrapped around him.

The hand that had been on your cheek shifted to the back of your neck, drawing you in. By applying more pressure to his bulge and trying to wrap your hand as much as possible with the fabric in between, Carlos' jaw fell open.

"If you missed it that much, get down on your knees and suck it then," he muttered against your lips, grazing them but not kissing you just yet.

He dropped his hands from your body, but as soon as he did, he itched to touch you again.

You hummed, pretending to contemplate it for a moment even though you had already made your decision. "Say please."

He licked his lips, immediately drawing your attention to the motion. Your hand remained still on his crotch, and he knew you could feel his cock pulsing beneath the heat of your palm, longing for a satisfactory touch.

You would give him everything he wanted, all he had to do was ask.

Carlos whispered your name, hanging on to each syllable with such longing, and you almost gave in. When you didn't budge, he spoke your name with more assurance, then added, "please."

You pressed a peck to his cheek, "as you wish, darling."

You tugged his trousers down by hooking your fingers into the waistband. You were as eager as he was, but he lacked the restraint to hide how much he desired you.

You locked your gaze with his, unwavering even as you lowered yourself to your knees in front of him. You couldn't help but tease him a little more as you pressed open mouthed kisses over his clothed cock, now only his boxers remaining as a barrier.

He groaned, "c'mon baby, you look so pretty on your knees for me."

You chuckled, finally giving in because if you continued teasing him, it would be torture for you too considering you've already soaked through your panties while sitting in the meeting earlier. You've missed the weight of his cock in your hands, even if the last time you held it was only a few hours ago in this very room.

Discarding the last piece of clothing, you held his hardened length in your hand. Gathering a bit of saliva in your mouth, you stuck your tongue out and drooled over the tip, spreading it with your palm.

He attempted to keep his gaze fixed on you, watching as you lavished much-needed attention on him, but he failed and closed his eyes as you licked his cock from the base to the tip. In a steady manner, you ran your hand up and down the length while swirling your tongue around the tip.

You placed the weight of his cock flat on your tongue before hollowing your cheeks out and sealing your lips around him. Taking him as deep as you could, you quickly felt his tip hit the back of your throat.

Your eyes quickly watered as you felt Carlos rest his hand on the back of your head, threading his fingers through your hair before holding it up in a ponytail.

"I know you can take more than that, cariño." He didn't urge you forward, but you placed your free hand on top of his that was resting in your hair, silently allowing him to do it.

Once you slid your hand away, his other hand rested on your jaw, stilling you as he began to thrust his hips, moving his cock in and out of the warmth of your mouth.

The obscene sounds of you gagging on his cock were joined by his groans and praises. His sweet words made you place your palm between your legs, over your clothed pussy, slowly grinding down on it to relieve some pressure.

With a few warnings from him and a couple thrusts later, his hot cum filled your mouth, seeping down your throat and dripping down your chin as he pulled back. You were still on your knees, and that's when he noticed your hand between your own legs.

He trapped his bottom lip between his teeth, watching as you frustratingly continued grinding down on your hand, while you used your other hand and swiped your fingers through his cum dribbling down your chin before licking it off with your tongue.

"Let me make you feel good," Carlos said, reaching his hand out to lift you up as you stood up.

Briefly scanning the room, he decided to sit on the couch with you in his lap. His gaze passed over the massage table in the back of the room, and he made the mental note to remember it for the next time you found yourself in his driver's room.

Amongst giggles, praises, and kisses, you used Carlos' skillful hands and cock to bring yourself over the edge twice.

The day turned to evening by the time you stood with him just by the door before leaving. This time of day, there weren't many team members in the motorhome, but you should have guessed that Carlos' teammate would be close by.

Charles spotted you as he left his own driver's room on the opposite side, greeting you and Carlos.

"You're here? Ava was looking for you earlier, and said you weren't feeling well." You glanced at Carlos, who was attempting to hide a teasing smile behind his palm and if Charles wasn't standing right there, you would've smacked the Spaniard.

"Oh, was she? I didn't know." You remembered that she promised to visit you after the meeting was over, but you had forgotten that fact when you were on your knees for Carlos.

"Are you feeling better now?" Charles questioned, and you were relieved that he remained oblivious to the predicament that was right in front of him. Particularly when you and Carlos gradually started to undervalue the significance of maintaining the secrecy of your newfound situationship.

You nodded, but before you could verbally respond, Carlos replied, "trust me, mate, she's feeling much better."

"I think I should go find Ava," you stated, muttering goodbyes before parting away from the Ferrari drivers. You looked back at Carlos with widened eyes, shaking your head at his antics. He simply chuckled, then immersed himself in a conversation with Charles.

He wasn't wrong, however, you were in fact feeling much better than before. As you walked away, you could feel his cum leaking out of your pussy, staining your work trousers since Carlos had ripped your panties to shreds.

Taglist OPEN: @xoscar03 @pierregazly @rowena-ravenclaws-diadem @lilymurphy03 @the-ghost-lovwr @ilovethefruits @lewlew44 @luvvtrent @hc-dutch @khaylin27 @lillyssh-tposts @thatgirlmj @ladyoflynx @tcfanmania @customsbyjcg-blog @sltwins @nonstopbookworm @glitterquadricorn @charizznorizz @mrs-bunny @moonliightbabes @likedbygaslyy @booksandflowrs @teamnovalak @formula1mount @gaviymarcsbride @gotthemilk-69 @bwormie @llando4norris @ellesssssxzxz @arian-directioner @lou-bean28 @depressedgiftedburnout @halleest @amberpanda99 @borapsycho @cosmoscoffeee @mycenterfold @67-angelofthelordme-67 @sugarvibez @mehrmonga @aadu2173 @bokutos-babyowl @teenwolf01 @presidentdangdang @mrswolffs-blog @amyfelix14 @seasonswinter @amalialeclerc @amandadesantasworld @ystrolllll @xisab @doofenshmirtzevil-inc @pedrohoe04 @yagirlhayes @jadaaasworld @mmack23 @shimmermotorsport @darleneslane @mderby03 @jinimon-tr @landoslutmeout

#babyjr fic #carlos sainz x you #carlos sainz fic #carlos sainz x reader #carlos sainz smut #carlos sainz fanfic #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #thef1diary fic #f1 smut #f1 imagines #x reader #smut #f1 series

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ne-videl · 11 months ago

Text

𝐚𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐡

♡

yandere archon Zhongli x mean fem reader

Morax turned your new life into hell and you despise him for that.

MDNI, sub then dom then sub Zhongli, yandere, unhealthy relationship, forced marriage, kidnapping, just very very unhappy and abused reader, sexual violence, slight violence from reader, nsfw?? or just heavily suggestive, poor english!!! please tell me if I forgot anything ><

word count: ~2k

a/n: hiii everyone! welcome to my first post!! as a fellow yandere x reader enjoyer I decided to share some of my own stuff here. (it took a while bc translating any of my work is hell)

I hate violent and domineering yanderes so at the end geo grandpa gets what he deserved for being toxic ^^

I think Zhongli was a menace in his youth and you can't change my mind.

basically we just turn mean and cruel yandere morax into pathetic yandere morax

bon appètit.

you push your fingers deeper, harder, making his knees tremble and his back arch.

Zhongli exhales noisily, pressing his heated face against the cold wall.

you squeezed his throat with your long, musical fingers: the lack of oxygen made his heart beat even faster.

"why...?" he whispered with a hoarse moan, turning an intoxicated, misty gaze on you.

"for you being alive."

____*:･ﾟ✧

your new life was good, even better than the previous one – you thought. kind and affectionate parents, friends, little shop in a little village. little people doing their little things.

when you realized you were in the game, your new body was about three years old. "Liyue" fell from your mother's lips, and that was enough for you to understand.

"what a strange Liyue they have here... still in it's cradle, perhaps." – little you thought, concentrated on sorting out bright and shiny stones, sitting on the porch of your modest house.

over the years, little girls turn into beautiful women: with pink cheeks, delicate skin and lips with the color of fresh peach tree fruits.

when you, bright and beautiful you, working in the shop of your dear parents, met a man with amber eyes, you were sixteen.

even at the first glance you recognized your deity. beaming, you greeted him from behind the counter. the only answer for you was silence and his heavy gaze.

chrysanthemums silently looked at you with their curious heads, standing in a vase on an old table top.

when Morax came for the second time, you realized that he was here for you. all that remained was to silently say goodbye to mom and dad, cheerful girls at the neighborhood and to kind elders of your tiny village: you will never see them all again. while he was leading you through the corridors of his cold palace, clutching your little hand until it hurt, you were saying goodbye to your old life. It was impossible to even think about who you were before: it was as if she didn't exist anymore at all.

you wanted to cry.

from that day on, you began to hate chrysanthemums.

____*:･ﾟ✧

day 345765. your 948th anniversary is approaching.

life is akin to hell.

warrior god knew nothing about love. you've already lost count of the nights you've had to perform "marital duty", waking up with back pain and counting bloody red hickeys on your delicate skin.

your husband's stamina could only be matched by his insatiability.

you examine your neck, covered with bitemarks, with the gaze of a pathologist looking at a corpse before vivisection.

what a vile, gut-wretching sight.

over the years, the personality of geo archon's spouse has suppressed the personality of the one you used to be. and the attachment of a girl who spends the night playing videogame towards her favorite character no longer existed at all.

only hatred remained. blind, caustic, it alone forced you to get up in the morning, waiting for never coming end of this nightmare.

someday you will make him regret that he was even born into the world.

he wasn't the character you loved: not Zhongli, not the funeral parlor consultant. only person you knew now was Rex Lapis, lord of geo.

he alone was capable of destroying your pride: tearing off all the sparkling jewels from you, depriving you of the shine of false power with which you methodically surrounded yourself with decades.

it was making you angry, irritated to the point of trembling in your hands: it made the inferiority complex tear your chest with it's disgusting little claws and wail plaintively. he is the master, and you are the property.

you aren't trembling under your husband's steady gaze. you didn't like being alone with him, but on every night you spent together, your posture was stiff, like an unbending bamboo shoot. haughtily raised chin and burning eyes. burning not with passion, no. with disgust.

"I..."

I belong to you. the words you've said at least hundreds of times by now.

"I hate you. I despise you with every little piece of my soul."

Morax greedily bites into your lips, and you feel your skin cracking under his sharp fangs, while hot hands painfully squeeze your shoulder under the silk hanfu.

painful. disgusting.

he takes you, as he did on many nights before: cruelly and vulgarly.

and you scream, you grin at his impassive face: you promise your husband that someday you will kill him, will wring his neck. that you will hate him for the rest of your endless life. you desperately tear the skin of his broad back with your blunt nails, growling and whining like a hunted, beaten dog.

Rex Lapis licked the blood off a fresh bite on your skin.

pulling the maid by the hair, who dared to chatter right in your ear early in the morning about how romantic it all was, was quite in the spirit of the "noble spouse", known for her more than bad, bilious temper.

"nights and nights long, oh, what a passion! what a burning, beautiful love!"

you are so lucky, madam.

girl is sobbing, with her head pressed against the wall. you hiss, venomously and viciously, tightening your grip on strands of her hair with tenacious, elegant fingers.

"stupid bitch. romantic, huh? you think I enjoy it? what, want to take my place?" – frightened maid runs out of her mistress's luxurious bedroom in tears.

you were jealous of that innocent girl. a girl who was able to cry when after being raped. who could see something beautiful in trivial things. who probably had a loving husband and family. that pathetic maid was better than you, an icy cold shell of a human driven only by hatred and a thirst for revenge.

you pursed your lips in disgust.

you developed a habit of despising everything that was better than you.

____*:･ﾟ✧

you always loved music, and over time you became very fond of playing it on your own. it helped to keep your mind in order.

whether it's a guqin with silk strings or an elegant erhu, or, a more exotic one, a lacquered piano brought especially for you from Fontaine – over time you have mastered every available musical instrument perfectly.

it was a good way to keep yourself busy, to not think of useless things. you've had more than enough time in a couple thousand years to master all this.

thin fingers drum on the keys: furiously, with malice, while the piano obediently gives out note after note.

Morax loved listening to you play, especially erhu. his delicate dragon hearing gravitated towards graceful, gentle melodies. even in this matter, your opinions did not agree: you, his spouse, loved to play music so that the maids, shuddering, thought why their mistress was furious once again.

you had beautiful hands, as befits a great musician; and with those beautiful hands you were concentrated on running your fingers through your husband's long hair.

the tips of the strands shimmer with amber in your delicate hands.

you never took the initiative or showed affection, and Morax, although genuinely surprised by such a sudden request, gladly complied. it was nice to feel the gentle touch of your thin fingers, occasionally touching the scalp and sending shivers down his back. low, guttural rumble came from his chest as he closed his eyes in euphoric bliss.

you put the jade comb aside.

"indeed, what a beautiful hair." – you drawled indifferently, noticing the hot blush on his neck, which burned even more after you pulled harder.

indeed, beautiful. how nice it would be to hit his head on an expensive countertop, wrapping it around your fist. how he would react? you would really like to see tears and fear in his bright eyes.

"beauuutiful..." – you hissed with a caustic sneer at the very ear of the lord of geo, pulling especially hard.

your husband's uncharacteristically high-pitched moan was your answer.

____*:･ﾟ✧

with each millennium spent together, your spouse has become softer. calmer, more respectful towards you. and even if you still noticed the possessive twinkle in his amber eyes, it was incomparable to the fire of poisonous passion that burned in them once.

at least now you were allowed to manage your own time. how generous of him, to end your imprisonment within the walls of the palace – you thought with caustic sarcasm, picking up another glaze lily for a bouquet.

now you even had friends – if that's what you could call the adepti and other loyal companions of Morax. all of them, of course, sympathized with your situation, but never made any attempts to help. they didn't interfere – no one ever did.

the sunset was blazing bright orange – or scarlet, or pink – didn't matter. you frowned, looking into nowhere.

Guizhong plopped a large bouquet of glaze lilies into your hands, snatching you out of your gloomy thoughts, but immediately running away in embarrassment.

"and why?" – you felt the urge to roll your eyes, but pulled yourself out of the annoying habit. goddess of dust, although considered you friends and did not hide the fact that she liked you, the wife of Morax, alone with you trembled like an autumn leaf in the wind.

piercing, cold eyes slid to embarrassed goddess, and you tried to give her a smile: the best you were still capable of, if were capable at all. so that it doesn't look like a facial muscle spasm.

"thank you. they're pretty." – goddess of dust smiled back: bright and sunny. in your gaze, for a second, shifted a non malicious envy, with which elders who have lived a long, harsh lives look at children. you yourself forgot how to smile like that a long time ago.

yes, perhaps you were really a little jealous of Guizhong. of the fact that she did not meet Morax as a young and cruel deity. the lady of the Guili Assembly knew him as wise and merciful, her faithful ally and reliable support. you didn't blame her for that, but you still couldn't help a slight tremor in your hands at the sight of your husband having a pleasant conversation with his friends.

well, after another millennia, Rex Lapis has come to love having pleasant conversations with you too.

"lovely flowers." – Morax patted you on your shoulder, smiling tenderly, but you, however, did not consider it necessary to respond in kind.

"Guizhong gave it to me." – you mumbled dryly.

"I see. do you like her?" – geo archon leaned closer to you, affection shining in his amber eyes.

"I don't know." – you closed your cold eyes, without taking your tired gaze from the bouquet.

Morax kissed the top of your head, and you twisted your face in disgust.

____*:･ﾟ✧

war of the archons died down with great noise, bringing destruction and devastation. having lost many, Morax took his place among the Seven.

and even Guizhong, sweet and kind Guizhong, fell victim to this massacre. although, of course, for the wife of the geo archon her death and the deaths of many others were not as much a blow as for himself.

slender fingers pluck the strings of the erhu, playing an elegant, long-drawn melody.

"[name]. I know you hate me, but still-" Rex Lapis looked at his wife with deep, sick affection and sadness in his amber eyes, like a beaten puppy, – "but still, please..."

you lift your eyelids, giving him a cold, indifferent look, and put down the instrument.

"you do not worth pity." – you say dryly, pursing your lips, – "at least not mine."

Morax rests his head on your shoulder, desperately inhaling your scent, as if afraid that you will disappear.

"please. just this once. help me just once, I beg you." – you feel the hot moisture staining the silk of your hanfu.

your beautiful hand rests on the top of his head, and you hear a noisy intake of breath, and his fingers tightly grip your forearm in a desperate embrace.

your little god is so pathetic. how disgusting.

see, how simple everything turns out to be? beg, even better if you cry, and maybe I'll feel a little sorry for you.

but you both knew that you would never allow him the luxury of your pity.

your tenacious fingers grabbed his hair in a firm grip, and you lift his head so that your husband looks into your eyes. into your cold, mocking eyes.

the only thing you desired to see in your former tormentor's gaze was fear, but even in that matter he disappointed you. Morax was looking at you with the same sick love that you had never been able to get used to over the last millennium.

you were waiting for fear, hatred, anything, but not this.

you huffed, relaxing your grip. your husband's arms wrapped around your waist, and he rested his head on your shoulder once again.

"you can be cruel. you can shout at me or hate me. you can do whatever you want with me, just please, please... don't go away."

there was no answer for him.

____*:･ﾟ✧

warm midday sun illuminated the domain in the Aocang mountain. fluffy clouds floated overhead while you sipped fragrant herbal tea, entertaining yourself with conversations with the Guardian of the Clouds.

"Zhongli, huh? how sweet. well, why don't you invite him to have tea with us?" – you giggled venomously, enjoying the intense gaze of the adepti. – "I will be more than glad to see him once again."

guilt will always follow geo archon, you will make sure of this.

you will be glad to see his sadness again, to hear the regret in his voice, and maybe, maybe even laugh a little when you'll see the same pathetic obsession in his eyes.

because it doesn't matter if it's Morax or Zhongli, he will always come back to you.

geo archon will always desire, and you will always despise.

always. forever.

thanks to everyone who (for strange reason 🤨🤨) finished reading this!!! honestly I was so scared to post it and my english is probably awful uuuh

maybe I'll post something else but it'll sure take a while bc as a said before, translating any of my stuff takes a shit ton of time

bye!!

#yandere genshin impact #yandere genshin x reader #sub yandere #yandere genshin x you #yandere zhongli #sub zhongli #yandere morax #yandere x you #yandere x reader #genshin impact #genshin x reader #genshin smut #yandere genshin smut #yandere #misha.writes

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monayen · 7 months ago

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huge fan !!!

i made an ao3 account just to give you more kudos lol

if its okay, can i request for some headcanons for Luther? dating him/being his pet specifically, but i go so feral for how you write him that im sure anything you write will be amazing

have an amazing day 😭🙏💞

Pet/Girlfriend headcannons | Luther Von Ivory

➷ Paring - Luther Von Ivory x Fem!Reader [Randal's Friends / Ranfren]

➷ CWs - master/pet play, use of 'sir', unsafe sex, clothed sex, fingering, possessive/controlling tendencies, praise, overstimulation, isolation as a form of punishment, domestication kink (?), breeding kink, use of German words (translations provided) he is ur boyfinrd

a/n - AH cheesing that you like my work, thank you for supporting me :3 !! Luther is definitely my sweetheart... so cute... i love writing for him... as always requests are open friends !

Luther Von Ivory… such a nice guy!

Whether you consider yourself his pet or girlfriend, (why not both?) he will always make sure to take care of you

✽ Trust that he will spoil you.

New clothes, new gifts, new everything!

Makes really good use of his everything catalog subscription

He won't willingly say that you are spoiled, that's favoritism! He cares for all his family, you're just a very good pet/girlfriend! (despite everybody knowing it)

✽ Every morning, he chooses your outfit

He makes sure to lay it all out for you out on his vintage dresser, showing multiple options before he ultimately decides on one

Luther’s favorite thing to dress you in?

Skirts, skirts, skirts! A couple cute dresses here and there – but wow does he go crazy for skirts!

There's just something so lovely about them; how the waistband perfectly hugs the curve of your waist, how it exposes your sweet thighs for him whenever you do chores around the house, how easy it is to slide his large hands under…

Luther also really likes clothed sex. He appreciates skin to skin but scheiße (language!) is it a sight to see you all messy in the clothes he got just for you

✽ Tracks EVERYTHING

Have you eaten? Brushed your teeth? Did you do your chores? What room are you going to? What did Sebastian just say to you?

He wants to know it ALL

Your business is basically his business. When you're a couple, it's important there are no secrets!

Even has a little notebook consisting of your daily doings and schedule

Trust that it's to keep you safe and healthy, he truly does care about you a lot. More than you’ll ever think

✽ He's very big on discipline

He expects you to behave and listen… like a good pet!

It’s easy to imagine Luther as a brat tamer, which he can be, though the novelty wears off for him if you continue to be difficult

So, it's much preferred if you just listen to him

✽ It goes hand in hand with domestication

Girlfriend or pet, he still holds you to that standard of taking care of yourself and the house

Wifey behavior – if you must

Luther just loves to see you on your hands and knees… scrubbing the floor, of course!

✽ Adores using pet names and honorifics.

He likes to call you pet, but he finds calling you dear and geliebte (beloved) much more endearing

Call him Sir or Master and he loses it! It's so cute coming from you, he’ll make you say it hundreds of times and cause you to lose your voice

Don’t worry, he always has tea ready to soothe you with later :)

✽ You guys are attached at the hip

Moreso, he keeps you there

You both share his room, sleep in the same bed, wake up at the same times, do everything together!

It's impossible to do anything without him hovering around you

Isn't sneaky at all... it's easy to spot him staring at you through a tiny sliver of an opened door

"Don't worry, dear. Just checking up on you. Keep doing what you're doing."

It’s exactly how he wants it. Bonding is very important, don't go thinking otherwise

✽ It's safe to say that he gets very possessive

He knows you won't ever leave, he's made sure of it by convincing you of how lost you’d be without him

He’s had Randal tell you terrible stories of monsters and freaks, just so you can run into his arms

“Outside pets don't last long,” he tells you. “You're much safer staying by my side, okay?”

Luther makes you nod and promise that you won't ever leave him

He gives you everything a good little human pet needs, so why would you?

So unlike his catmen or even Randal, he rarely ever lets you outside the house

The world can be dangerous, and he’d much prefer to keep you in the “controlled” environment that is the Ivory house

Right where he can keep his eyes on you.

✽ Dates tend to consistently be on the Ivory property

Again, he loves spending time with you!

Luther totally does make that effort to plan dates with you, he'll dress up in his nicest dress shirt and help you pick out a cute dress and do your hair<3

Then, he'll hold your hand and give you your favorite flowers, complimenting you like he didn't help you get ready

He plans out nice activities for you two, something you can spend hours doing... he wants you by his side for all of it

Favorites are: reading books in the study room, cooking dinner together, watching tv for hours as you lay your head in his lap (with petting, obviously), and gardening

Can anything be considered a date if you are constantly together in the same space?

On the rare occasions Luther lets you out with him, he likes to take you shopping! Just don't be greedy and ask for too much…

Either that or drive in movie theaters. Simpler the better.

He has you home by 10 pm (what a gentleman!)

✽ Like I said in my last post about Luther, he is very intimate

Everything is a process when it comes to sex with him

He usually prefers to lie you down on his king bed, thin lips trailing down your collarbone

Let him hold you just a little closer, hands slipping underneath the cute panties he bought you

His long fingers always tease – even if he doesn't intend to

Luther just wants to hear your soft moans, urging him to do more

He’ll shush you, but he doesn't actually want you to be quiet. It's more to comfort you – to say that it's okay, Luther will take care of you now, dear<3

He likes to tell you what to do, as if you don't already know

Luther tends to almost treat you like a lost baby animal, petting at your hair and whispering sweet nothings as he unbuckles his dress pants above you

Once you envelop his lengthy cock, he always makes sure to kiss at your forehead as he pushes in inch by inch. You poor thing, he is quite big… you take it so well for him

Luther doesn't tend to moan or grunt, but he makes sure to let you know how great it is with praises of good girl and so perfect, meine süße (my sweet)

His pace stays slow and deep, hips thrusting rhythmically as he listens to your pleasure and reactions

It's maybe a little crazy how he knows exactly all the spots to have you blushing and squirming under him

Luther isn’t a fan of mess, considering how neat of a person he is

So expect him coming inside a lot, totally not because he has a breeding kink…

Either way, It always ends with him matching your orgasm with his, how cute is it to finish together!

There's purpose and intention behind his every movement, it shows just how much he loves and cares about you. How you are his<3

✽ Though, he could always be a lot rougher if he deems it necessary… i.e, you misbehaving

He's trained you properly that it rarely happens but when it does…

His strong grip will pin your shoulders back, Luther then wedges between your spread legs as his (surprisingly) skilled fingers rub at your clit

You writhe, gasps loudly escape you as he soon ten folds the overwhelming sensation by filling you with his cock.

He purposely tries to overstimulate you, hips snapping roughly against your soft thighs as his thumb rubs at your swollen clit, drawing out shaky moans from you

“It’s too much… isn't it, pet?” Luther says lowly, the contrast is clear as day to his typical sensual doings

“Ah– please, slow down! I can't–!” He hums at your cries, shaking his head and choosing to angle himself to hit your g-spot

“You know better, haustiere (pet). Will you behave for me?”

He’ll make certain that you understand that there is no disobeying him, if it takes plowing you into his silky bed sheets over and over again… so be it

“Yes, sir! I’m sorry– I’ll behave. I promise!”

Ah, such music to his ears to hear you proclaim your compliance.

He’ll lead you to repeat yourself a few more times, each time going faster and faster as the words draw shaker and shaker from your mouth. Just so you really understand :)

✽ A good thing is that he won't ever harm you

Unless… you actually try to escape. You’d never do that to him though! You guys love each other too much!

Besides overstimulating you until you cry and pass out, his other punishments can include isolation

He’ll lock you in his room for days to a couple weeks (depending on the crime), making sure you get no contact with anyone else. Not even the rest of the family

If you don't lose your mind like that, you are sure to when he takes away your privileges of using the internet/watching tv, reading books, drawing.... basically anything that could take your mind off of what you have done

By the end of it, he wants you on your knees begging for forgiveness

And the ever kind humanoid he is, he’ll wipe the cute tears off your red face and pet your hair to comfort you

“It’s okay, geliebte. I hope you have learned your lesson.”

He knows it's harsh, but training is important for pets. How else do you learn?

If you're going to be the future bearer of his children… he needs you to be on your best behavior :)

#luther von ivory x reader #luther ranfren #luther von ivory #x reader #ranfren #dark blog #tw possessive behavior

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