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enwoso · 5 months ago

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Cute lil blurb idea we know alessia is one of the faces of adidas. Alessia getting gifted a pair of her own boots as well as a Lovie sized pair and Lovie wants to wear them all the time and wear her hair up like alessias because she says she’s dressed as mummy

MIRRORED — alessia russo x child!reader

grumpy universe

it was an average wednesday, alessia was carrying you into the arsenal training ground her hands filled with her bag and your bag. you still being half asleep after falling back asleep on the car journey there as alessia made her way through the long corridors and towards the changing room.

not before being stopped by a memeber of staff, "alessia there's a box that's got your new boots in" he smiled as he passed the blonde in the corridor. alessia calling out a thank you as she headed still towards the changing room.

"right lovie are you just going to sit and watch your ipad?" your mummy asked as you hummed pulling your blanket further up to your face. alessia pushing the door to the changing room with her foot as she headed inside, most of the girls being there already and starting to change into their training gear.

alessia placed you down on the bench near her locker as you got yourself comfy, your mummy quickly propping your ipad up and putting something on for you to watch knowing you'd be content until you came around and woke up properly.

alessia sat down and took a breathe, it being the first one she'd properly been able to take this morning after having to rush around after pressing snooze one too many times this morning.

"this yours, less?" alessia turned to where the voice was coming from, it was lotte pointing to a big brown box that was sat next to alessia.

the blonde nodding, "yeah it's new boots for the rest of the season."

"you not gonna open them? looks like they've sent enough for the next season too" lotte joked looking at the size of the box, it definitely not being the smallest box. alessia humming as she too was wondering why the box was so abnormally large. there was only supposed to be three pairs of boots in there.

"they said they were only sending three pairs-" alessia paused as she lifted the box onto her lap, ripping open the seal on the cardboard box, a loud noise echoing the room as she did so.

"oo they aren't they nice" alessia mumbled under her breath as she looked at the boots, a smile creeping on her face. it was always fun getting new kit, the excitement of unboxing them.

"what's in that one?" lotte pointed to the small adidas box which definitely didn't have boots in as it was too small. the blonde shrugged picking them up from inside the large brown box they'd been shipped in.

opening the box, there was a greeting card on top. 'toughness in tiny packages!'

a little quirk of the eyebrow as alessia looked towards lotte who just shrugged urging the blonde to just open the box.

moving the white tissue paper covering the item was a small pair of boots, just like the ones they'd sent alessia but in a size that would fit you.

"oh my god, she's gonna love these" alessia pouted taking in the small boots as she turned them around getting a full feel of the pair of green fusion with the three stripes being a purple colour.

they were almost identical to the ones alessia had just been given to use for the remainder of the season, they had even put your name on the side in small white letters.

a small pout on alessia face as her heart was melting at the cuteness of them, "there class them" lotte complimented as alessia showed her best friend where they'd even put your name on them.

alessia gushed over the small boots along with the other sets of clothes adidas had sent you to wear that matched your mummy. alessia decided to wait until you were in a better mood to show you them. knowing it would get a better reaction than the tired reaction she would get if she showed them to you now.

morning training had finished and the team was ready to go to lunch, you'd been waiting inside. playing with winnie for the morning, you even getting to take the club dog for a walk around the inside of the training ground.

"lovie, c'mere" your mummy called you over as you were laid out on the floor with win, as you watched your ipad. winnie guarding over you protectively.

you perking up at the sound of her voice, pushing yourself off the floor and toward your mum. leaving win to watch your ipad.

you walked over you to your mummy as had a big smile on her face, lifting you up when you got closer. "i've got something to show you"

your eyebrows knitted together, "what is it" you asked curiously. as you began to guess things as your mummy carried you to wherever this thing was that she had to show you.

"no lovie it unfortunately isn't a unicorn but i think it's just as good!" your mummy let out a chuckle at your strange suggestions as you got lost in thought — what was better than a unicorn?

alessia took you back into the locker room where she’d left the packages, placing you to sit on the bench as she grabbed the brown boxes from her locker before handing them to you.

you looked at the box that was now on your lap it easy being nearly the size of you, as you hesitantly looked up towards your mum. one thing you did know is that there definitely wasn’t a unicorn in there..

“open it lovie” your mummy encouraged as you opened the box, discarding the wrapping to one side as you rummaged around before finally lifting up the boot.

a gasp escaping you as you looked at the football boots, a big grin plastered across your face as you jumped up to hug your mummy’s leg. maybe matching boots were cooler than a unicorn.

“mummy there exactly like yours!” your called out holding the boot in the air as if it was a trophy a giggle coming from your mummy’s leg at your excitement.

“i can be like you now!” you continued, as you looked at the two boots as your mummy sat down next to you showing that they had your name on the side, you being in utter awe and for once lost for words, for a short amount of time.

“i wear them now!” you asked as alessia nodded knowing it would put a damper on your mood if she hadn’t let you. “you put my hair like yours too!” you asked pointing to the thick plait that was in your mummy’s pony tail — you wanting the exact same.

your mummy did as you asked plaiting your pony tail that your hair had been scraped back into this morning, alessia putting your little fly aways back in place as you put your boots on. trying your best to lace them but you hadn’t mastered that yet so you left it for your mummy to do.

“all done lovie!” your mummy patted your feet as she finished lacing your boot up, a grin not leaving your face. “gosh it’s like looking in the mirror-“

you were stood looking in the mirror that was built into the wall in the locker room, your mummy stood behind you and if anyone had of walked in it would ah e looked like alessia had duplicated a smaller version of herself.

“should we show the girls?” your mummy asked as you nodded rushing off back to the canteen where most of the girls would be, alessia following suit.

"woah, less is that you?" beth joked as she knelt down to your height as you came in the room just before your mummy, you dressed exactly like her.

"no bethy! it's me!" you squealed correcting beth as she let out a loud laugh. alessia coming through the double doors.

"silly me, i just couldn't tell you apart you look just like your mum!"

#alessia russo x y/n #alessia russo x reader #alessia russo #woso community #woso x reader #woso #woso imagine #woso blurbs #awfc #arsenal women #arsenal wfc #arsenal #lotte wubben moy #beth mead #england wnt #england women #engwnt #grumpy universe #enwoso

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violant-apologia · 22 days ago

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the FL MtG cards are here!

this is like my fourth batch, but i haven't posted any of the previous ones, so let me show off some of the cards from all the batches!

briar and his three mr stoneses! these are the face commanders of the deck. there are alternate commanders that you'll see later, but this is the pair that i like using the most often.

more masters! (and bazaar-aligned entities). all the masters in the deck are vampires, and they also all have the seal of the bazaar as a watermark. just a neat bit of visual clarity, i think!

ocs! incuding mine. not all of them will be able to make it into the deck proper (for deck size and colour identity reasons) but i'm still so happy to have them all.

basic lands: seven of each. these gave me so much hassle back when i made them, but i think they turned out well!!! apart from the edge mountains which are like 70% black.

more lands! a triplet of creatureland which i feel work very well. the rest of them are neat too. whenever i say i have an underground sea proxy in the deck, people give me a Look, but how could i not! it's a perfect fit.

dfcs! the frames of these all had to be done by hand, which always took a while. i still think they turned out incredibly well, all things considered.

more creatures!! some legendary, some not. i made the decision pretty early that if i represent a named character with a nonlegendary card, i'd just cut the "the" from the name (see sallow spirifer and voracious diplomat). i think it works!

and noncreatures!! there's a vague treasure theme in the deck (as can be seen in the fall of london, revel in riches and spirifage (as well as a lot of the creatures)) but honestly most of the cards are flavour picks. still, artificial evolution has gotten me out of some jams. fun card!

aaaand tokens! which is everything. i reckon when i play this deck properly, i'll report back any fun scrapes that anyone's characters get into. like getting turned into a bug, or killing the god of death.

again, thank everyone who contributed OCs or art to this project. i'm very happy to have so many flumblr characters appear in the deck. all of the cards have art credits on them, but some probably aren't visible in the photos. so for proper credits (and as a ping list) i've included a list below the cut:

@alexis-royce: The Ex-Disgraced Academic; Mr Pages; Mr Stones (x2); New Blood. @anomalouscorvid: Darcy, the Appalling Artist; Furnace Ancona; Mr Transport; May, the Merry Gentleman; The Seventh Coil. @capn-twitchery: Captain Twitchery Lazaret. @ciriparipa: Mr Sacks. @dualclock: Oswald, the Decadent Parvenu. elena-illustration: M. Melchor. @esteemed-excellency: Haunted One; Hiram Hargrave. @feivelynart: Black Ribbon Duellist; The Carnelian Exile; The Grand Geode; London Ascends to the Stars; Thopter Token; Voracious Diplomat. u/Galvatyr: Poor Edward. @hells-dear-heart: Isidore Carter. @letters-of-fire: Boots the Cat; Giorgione, Crooked-Cross. @madame-butterfly-knife: Inessa Fonseca, Lyon. @milleart: Snuffer. @mledoesart: Mr Eaten. @oneirotecture: Warden, Scarred Silverer. @pinchbees: Merry Darthfellow. Sarah Warrington: Orsino Elderwood. @shazzbaa: Griz, the Efficient Commissioner; Mr Fires; Stargaze; Tragic Slip; Virginia, Lord Mayor of London. @sorrow2art: Cardiac Echoes, Spymaster. StagyTryout: The Avid Horizon @sunlessveils: Parabolan Kitten. @tears-n-tarot: Charlie and Artemis Burnet-Lin. @the-insouciant-scientist: Briar Hathaway, the Apologist; Mr Stones; Noman. @the-masterless-press: Betty Horvat, Pugilist. @the-noted-collector: Endemannus Korabl'nikov. @thedeafprophet: Harper Faraday. @thegreatyin: The Bandaged Scoundrel. @thunder-threnodies: Captain Francis Morgan Dargor. @torturingpeople: Edison, the Sybaritic Laureate; The Tender Pathologist. @velvetlinedbox: Doe, Waterlogged Detective. @viric-dreams: The Boil of Calamities; Drown in Dreams; Horiatio Digby; The Six Finger'd Scrimshander. @waterlogged-detective: Brett Heroux, Dandy Detective; Marian, Prickly Bluejacket; Namkuzu, Avaricious Meddler. @yuuuyang: Sigil-Ridden Navigator; Storm, God of the Roof; The Woods in Winter. @zeebreezin: August Shaw, the Black Rook.

and @failbettergames: Arcane Signet; Artificial Evolution; Beseech the Queen; Betty Horvat, Pugilist (bg); Black Market; Blood Token; The Cave of the Nadir; Censor; The Chapel of Lights; Clothes-Colony; Clue Token; Copy Token; Darkness; The Dawn Machine; Dreamscape Artist; The Echo Bazaar; The Fall of London; Flood of Tears; Food Token; Hecuba, Doomed Obliterator; Hideaway; Hillchanger Tower; The Horticultural Show; The House of Chimes; The Implacable Detective; Inessa Fonseca, Lyon (bg); The Irrepressible Heiress; Island (x7); Jack-of-Smiles; Khan's Heart; Laughable Reconstruction; Miniature Hellworm; Mountain (x7); The Mountain of Light; Mr Chimes; Perigee of Silver; The Prismatic Dowager; Probably a Coincidence; Revel in Riches; Rise and Shine; Road // Ruin; Sallow Spirifer; Salt, God of the East; The Scuttering Company; Shapeshifter Token; Spider-Council; Spirifage; Stone, God of the South; Swamp (x7); Treasure Token (x2); Underground Sea; Venderbight.

#aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa it's done!!#now i actually have to. make the deck.#anyway it should be fine #very very very very excited to finish this up #and having the cards physically here is super satisfying by itself #fallen london #FLN

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authorhjk1 · 10 days ago

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could you do a how does KIOF roleplay?

Julie

At first you found Julie's roleplaying a little off putting. You're fine with a lot of stuff, but you didn't expect her to one day randomly suggest something this taboo. Julie doesn't have a brother or sister, but you're not sure if that makes it better or not. She herself told you that she knows it is weird at the beginning, but you can see how much it turns her on. How wet she gets when you call her your sister while you nail her naked body into the living room window. How her eyes glisten with lust while she strokes your cock, admiring it as if she saw it for the first time.

"Oh my god, little brother. I didn't know you had such a nice cock."

Julie liked a lot of foreplay as well, which makes the sex itself even more real. By now you can't count the times when you were just watching TV in the living room and suddenly Julie came in, only wearing the tightest crop top that showed off her naked nipples through the fabric and her lace panties, and just kneeled in front of the TV, then took something out of the drawer underneath it and walked away again. And everytime she said something, which made it clear what she's expecting you to do next.

"By the way, mom and dad are gonna be home late today."

On the weekends, Julie even roleplays early in the morning. When you're preparing breakfast she walks into the kitchen, only wearing a shirt of yours, which ends halfway down her thighs. Then, she opens the fridge and bends down, the hem of your shirt riding up her ass so you can have a good view of her wet pussy.

"Why do you always eat my stuff? You better make it up to your sister, sweetie."

Natty

Natty always had a thing for giving you head at random times since the beginning of your relationship. Sh just loved how you always looked so surprised when she either just dropped to her knees in front of you when the two of you were alone, or when she took your hand without a word in public, just giving you a wink, before leading you to a more private space.

And since she found the succubus hairband and wings while looking for a Halloween costume last year, Natty constantly roleplays as succubus. She keeps changing her outfit, but always includes the wings and horns.

When you wake up in the morning, you're greeted by her in nothing but sexy lingerie, her lips already tightly sealed around your cock. After a long day at work, you sometimes come home to Natty roleplaying different roles, while still roleplaying as succubus. A succubus school girl, a succubus teacher, a succubus cheerleader, a succubus bride who's husband is lying in the next room, already completely drained of his cum.

But for some reason, today's outfit might be your favorite. The nun outfit is obviously a sexier version of an actual thing a nun would wear, but you still catch the wings on her back and the two balck horns, which peak out from underneath her veil. Natty even put in red contact lenses, making her look even more like a succubus in disguise.

"Do you want to know what sinning feels like?"

Belle

Belle is a princess. I think that's pretty obvious. That's how she likes to be treated during sex all the time anyway. Throughout your time with her, she's tried out very different forms of princesses. Obviously Disney princesses came first. Cinderella, Belle, Jasmine and so on. But once Belle tried out all of these often enough, she moved on.

Last week you came home to her lying on your bed, the only thing she was wearing was princess Leia's custome from Jabba's palace. She offered you her leash and asked you to be the roughest you've ever been with her. Which still doesn't mean that much since getting fucked from behind while getting her face pressed into the sheets is already extreme for her. She's just a soft princess most of the time.

Yesterday you were greeted by a Chinese princess. Belle wore a silk hanfu, which showed all kinds of light colours, making her look like a spring goddess. Flowers in her hair and a big golden hairpin completed her outfit. It was authentic, so she barely showed any skin at all, but that was completely fine with you, since it made the experience even more real.

And today another princess waited for you on your bed after you stepped out of the shower. Belle as a Pharaoh's daughter, wearing a black wig a golden hairband in form of a snake and golden bracelets on her arms and ankles. Her white silk dress was incredible thin, almost counting as see through. It showed off her body's curves perfectly and you could even see a fake bellybutton piercing through the dress.

Haneul

Haneul wasn't a fan of roleplay, until she wore something more formal once. Not a dress, but a suit. She felt somewhat powerful and strong in it and to her own surprise she made you feel that during sex that night.

She still doesn't roleplay often, but occasionally, you now find yourself face to face with your strict boss who threatens to fire you if you don't eat her out, or your school's principal who threatens to call your parents if you don't show her your cock, or once even your superior officer who tells you to fuck her hard if you don't want to get dishonorably discharged.

You usually enjoy fucking and using Haneul however you want with her being a good girl, but once in a while you do like to be the one who has to do what she says.

"And now the other one."

Right now Haneul roleplays as the hot and successful neighbor, who caught you looking at her through the window. She told you she'd call the police if you didn't do what she said. So now you place her naked foot on the floor, before your reach for the other one, still in one of her heels.

#ask #kpop #kpop smut #kpop girls #kpop gg #male reader #julie kiss of life #haneul kiss of life #natty kiss of life #belle kiss of life #kiss of life smut #kiss of life

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painted-bees · 4 months ago

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“It isn't for you, it's because of you.

Because of you, I can finally do this for myself.

Because I want to.

Because I trust you with it.

It's all because of you,

and I'm so fucking thankful.”

-- [Jan 28th, 2014] The weather had conspired against him.

Or perhaps it was trying to protect him. Either way, the cold snap that washed over Vancouver on this sunny January afternoon was perfectly timed to ruin the months of careful planning, frivolous spending, and emotional safeguarding Raf had done in preparation for the performance today. It was as though the sky had opened up to release every breath of warm air that the previous weeks of relentless overcast had, until now, valiantly sealed in.

To make matters worse, Raf couldn’t turn to Margie for consolation about it. She didn’t know anything about a performance happening today, and it needed to stay that way until at least 6 pm. Her distractible nature had been a huge blessing for him during the past long months of preparation and rehearsals, and this was the last day he'd have to work behind her back. He was thankful for that. Tess had whisked her out into town this morning under the pretence of finding a suitable birthday present to ‘surprise’ him with. It was an effective ruse to keep Margie busy and secreted away from him while he fulfilled the final preparations for the day’s event.

He was half expecting to arrive at Jack Poole Plaza only to be met by an unfortunate orchestra representative tasked with dispensing the bad news of postponement due to the unusual cold. Instead, the venue was abuzz with activity, warmed by the familiar din of pre-performance energy. Or rather–it was the arrangement of outdoor heaters that kept the temperature surprisingly manageable in key locations across the venue. That was one of the expenditures Raf had considered “a frivolous necessity” when he committed to it, and it was certainly paying dividends today.

“Raf!” The sound of Nels’ voice as he approached was every bit as warm as the heaters. “Boy, you sure picked a day, didn’t you?” As the older man closed the distance, one of his large hands clapped down on Raf’s shoulder with an amicable jostle.

“Well," Raf said, "no one called to postpone.” Genuine disbelief coloured his tone in a manner that wholly undermined his attempt at a half-joke.

Nels barked a laugh, “Bah! Over a little cold? No chance. But snow?” He held up a finger, “One snowflake hits that pavement and the whole city' in shut down” He looked up at the sky, wincing against the sunlight. “Thankfully not a problem today!”

Raf offered a small smirk that bordered on a grimace. “It’s not great for the instruments, though.”

“Cold feet?”

“Cold everything.”

Nels held him with a gentle but uncompromising gaze. “Train’s already moving, kiddo. Can’t stop now.”

Turning his eyes towards the stage with a relenting sigh, Raf began making strides across the vast concrete venue towards it. “Outdoor concert in the middle of winter was a terrible idea. Why didn’t anyone stop me?”

“I recall there was an attempt,” Nels said, “But, ah…You had a clear vision, a convincing argument, and a lot of money.”

“Yeah, I’m also insane. Nels, I hate crowds, I hate public events. Why am I hosting one?”

“You love the audience and,” Nels’ hand found Raf’s shoulder again, halting him before the stairs leading up to the left side of the temporary stage set-up. “You love Margie. That’s the kind of insanity that drove all this. She adores this sort of thing. She’s gonna be beside herself. Inconsolable, even. And you know that. That’s why you’re doing this.”

“Mmh.” That was a swing and a miss, but Raf had no desire to engage in the pedantry dissecting his own mercurial motivations, and so, he was content to leave it there.

Recognizing the full stop in Raf’s voice, Nels clapped his hands together and led the way onto the stage. “Well-! Things here are looking and sounding well on our end. Security’s all set. It’s not going to be a flood of people all at once but, as you can see,” he gestured out towards the plaza, “We’ve already got a population of curious loiterers. We’re wrapping up the last of the sound tests. Speaking of–!”

Nels turned his attention to the microphone set up at the front, centre of the stage. Raf intended to follow, but paused at the sight of Naomi making her way over from the other side. She made he way in brisk strides, holding out her open palms in a gesture both of greeting and surprise.

“Ooh, you showed up!”

Raf regarded her with a lopsided smirk and a curt, upward nod of his chin. “Was I not supposed to?”

She rubbed her hands together and squeezed the fingertips of one hand in the palm of her other. “Dunno, Ephrem. How you feelin' about it?”

“Trying not to,” Raf admitted. “But it’s mostly fine. I’ve got Kill Bill sirens going off in my head a bit. First time I’ve ever managed something like this myself, but I am managing, so–” With a Super Mario-pitched voice, and a weak upward pump of his fist, he concluded, “Wahoo.” An aptly appropriated Margie-ism.

“Man, shut the fuck up. You ain’t managing nothin’ yourself this time, either.” She scoffed loudly. “C’mon I ain’t out here at bitch o’clock in balls degree weather doin’ this shit just so you can tell me you ain’t got no help. Be for real.”

“That’s not what I–”

“I know,” she gave him a playful scowl before throwing her hands up in an exaggerated gesture of arrest, “I’m playin’! Jeez, Eph, control your temper, chill. Damn, why you always gotta be yellin’?”

“Boy, I’m going tah rip your face off.” His stiff posture, quirked eyebrow, and uncharacteristic transatlantic accent delivered his threat with all the seriousness he intended.

“And ruin your manicure? Girl, you’ll cry.”

Their short drama play ended with a defusing snort of laughter shared between the two of them.

Thumbing her nose with a sniff, Naomi attempted some honest reassurance. “I think you did a pretty good job, all things considered. Hired the right folks for certain.” She grinned at the compliment as she paid it to herself.

From their place in the corner of the stage, they both looked out over the set-up and across the venue. The stage itself was populated mostly with venue staff and Hi-Note technicians working in collaboration with each other to make sure things sounded great, looked great, and that no one would kill themselves on any of the countless cables that snaked across the floor.

Beyond the stage, the last of the temporary barriers and crowd management measures were being organised and installed. Raf himself didn’t know what to expect in that regard, and had no option but to trust that the venue staff knew what they were doing. At the very least, a free admission orchestral event wasn’t new to them. One such concert had been hosted here in the summer, and just like that one, this event was advertised months in advance to draw out as large a crowd as possible. But he hadn’t been the one to advertise it. In fact, he had explicitly forbidden any mention of him or of a vocal performance at all. No, this was advertised in a manner similar to the summer’s concert. And indeed, the programme would be much the same–but it would end with his performance.

Even as the staff set about their tasks, a budding population of curious doddlers seemed content to wander and wait around for something exciting to begin. It was a lot to hold in his head, and there were countless variables he had no control over–many of which relied on the cooperation of other people. Complete strangers. An overwhelming number of things could and likely would go wrong, and anything that went right would only do so thanks to luck. At least–that’s what his gut told him.

It would be the first concert he’d perform, without Margie, in almost a decade. It would be the first performance without her that centred him since…

Since Ephrem Records. A chill unrelated to the cold forced him to shudder visibly, and he steadied himself with an automatic, curtly huffed sigh. This was not that. He had stared that beast directly in the eyes, he had walked into its horrifying, revenous maw and–

He came back home. Safe. Sound. Completely unscathed.

It–that–Ephrem Records and the nightmares within it had no control over him anymore. Though it had tried, it couldn’t keep him. That cage door had fallen off its hinges and would no longer close on him. It was a freedom he had had never in his life known before.

Beside him, Naomi had turned her gaze to watch him. “Remember after Lacey ditched? How you said you weren’t never gonna get on stage for anyone anymore?”

“Mmhm.”

“You been cancellin’ shit all the time because you just ain’t gonna perform if you don’t wanna.”

“Mmhm.”

“But you’re here. Today. Like--your birthday’s tomorrow. You didn't wanna take it easy for that?”

Raf turned his head to cast a very slight, wry smile down towards her. “Mmh, nah.”

Her eyes lit up under the validating glow of his expression. “Nooo, see! I was gonna ask who you doin’ this for, really? But that shit eating grin–” a cackle punctuated her sentence. “This ain't for Margie. Is it?”

Naomi’s laugh infected him well enough to let out a small snort of laughter all his own. “She'd hate it if it was. No, I just--wanted to see for myself if...Uh. This wouldn't kill me."

"I've been sayin', too, Margie ain't about seeing you freak out for her!" Naomi clasped her hands together and dipped forward in an elated gesture. "Well, you don't look like you're dying."

"Yeah--I don' think I will. "

–

“Raf’s impossible to shop for. I don’t know what we were expecting to find.” Margie's conclusion arrived at the end of a long day spent following Tess around the whole, wide city in search of a gift for a man who placed very little value on material wealth. “There’s nothing we could buy that he couldn't afford himself. And it’s hard to put proper thought into it when it’s so last minute.” There was tired frustration in her voice.

Savouring a strawberry frappe through a bent straw, Cortes remained wholly unbothered by the state of affairs. With a shrug, her free hand gestured to sign a sloppily composed, “Raf’s birthday gift can be all the friends we met along the way.”

Margie let out one of her conversationally reflexive little giggles. “Yeah, yeah! All none of them.”

The sun had already begun to sink beneath the city skyline, and in its wake the clear sky was turning a shade of deep indigo. An already frigid day was turning into an even colder night. Too cold to be out walking along the seawall. Tess’s choice of a blended iced beverage was nothing short of absurd but, just like the failure of their gift-hunting quest, the freezing cold seemed to have no ill effect on Cortes whatsoever. While Margie’s breath hung like a ghost in the air and caused an uncomfortable moisture to collect on the fraying filaments of her scarf, Tess suffered no such inconvenience. Margie was bundled for warmth, but Tess wore her winter layers only for the aesthetic of it.

Without looking at her, Tess signed with languid gestures, “We should probably head home, now. I’m getting bored.”

Margie might have agreed, but something else tugged her attention. She grabbed Tess's arm to halt her. “Hang on, shh!”

A pause.

A swell of string and brass carried itself on the chill ocean breeze. It wasn’t uncommon to hear music playing from the various shops and storefronts that lined the city streets, especially during the holiday months. But…

“Does that sound live to you?”

Tess appeared to listen for a moment longer before shrugging.

“It’s coming from the plaza.”

Another shrug from Tess preceded an inquiring forefinger flopped with mild indifference towards the stairs leading out of the park, up towards the convention centre.

Margie nodded and shook Tess’s arm in her grip. “Yeah, I just wanna looksee!”

With one last resigned shrug, Cortes allowed Margie to lead the way forward.

As they crested the wide staircase, the plaza greeted them with an array of bright, warm lights and a buzz of activity. Margie immediately b-lined to read one of the standing signs that named the event to her.

“Wait, no! What? This was today?” She turned a baleful gaze up at Tess. “We missed the summer one, so I was gonna tell Raf about this one. But I thought it was like–next month!” She gestured with both arms towards the banner sign. “Free concert! VMO! Tess! I’m so upset!” Dropping her arms to her side, Margie slouched under the weight of her disappointment. “This woulda been a perfect birthday gift for him. Why did I think it was in February?”

Tess’s hand came down gently upon the top of Margie’s head in a placating pat-pat. At the same time, an unfamiliar man’s voice addressed them from the side.

“Excuse me, Ma’am?”

Glancing up, Margie watched the man approach, well dressed for the weather with a bright yellow and black jacket. “Genesis Security” was emblazoned in bold, white letters across the breast and shoulder. He wasn’t addressing her. The man’s gaze was locked firmly onto Tess.

“Ma’am,” he repeated, “I've been instructed to show you to your seat, if you’ll please follow me.”

“Woah...” Margie watched the guy's back as he began to lead the way forward through the plaza. "How does this keep happening to you?" It seemed that no matter where Tess went, there was always something special waiting for her. People treated her like a rock star, honored by her mere presence. Apparently, this was just another such instance.

Shrug. Tess tapped on the shoulder of the security guard and locked eyes with him before pointing to Margie, then to herself, and then back to Margie again.

With a nod, the guard responded, “I don't see why not. But let's hurry. Show's half done by now.”

The guard made haste, Tess kept in stride, and Margie was forced to shuffle quite swiftly in order to keep up. As she did so, her hands fumbled around in her pockets until they found her phone.

“I should call Raf, maybe he can make it in time if he’s still at Hi-Note!” Neither Tess nor the guard in front of her said anything to discourage the thought, and so Margie hit his name in on quick-dial and waited for him to pick up.

Instead, she was immediately met with the robotic voice of his service provider.

With a small groan of disappointment, Margie lowered her phone to send a text message, muttering under her breath, “Why is your phone turned off, you wiener?”

The two of them were led through the well populated venue towards the very frontmost row of seating, where Tess was presented with two vacant seats.

“Oh,” Margie took her seat next to Tess, “Raf wouldn’t have been able to sit with us, anyways.”

Perhaps sensing the tinge of melancholy in her voice, Tess reached over to wrap an arm around Margie’s shoulders and pulled her in close. With a sigh, Margie nestled herself cozily against Tess and made the conscious effort to shift her attitude and appreciate the free show with her ever patient girlfriend. It was thanks to Tess that she got to see this performance at all–and with that thought, Margie was able to replace her disappointment for failing their day’s objective with thankfulness towards the present moment.

The orchestra played an enjoyable, eclectic selection of compositions, most of which Margie couldn’t name. Perhaps the only one she properly recognized was the Star Wars theme, which stood out somewhat comedically against the others–all of which she had assumed to be classical pieces.

The final piece–or rather, what was presented as the final piece–was no doubt Tchaikovsky. She knew Tchaikovsky. Just…not well enough to name his compositions. But this was definitely him! To her ears, everything sounded beautiful. Had Raf been there, he might have identified nuances in the performance, both good and bad, highlighting them to her so that she might be able to notice them, too. There was a shared enjoyment between them for that kind of thing. In contrast, Tess was a remarkably stoic and quiet person to sit with when it came to anything involving live music. Her enormous, dark eyes stared unblinking as she listened; transfixed by the intricate braiding of sounds. Her long, lithe fingers twirled themselves repeatedly into the stray curls of Margie’s hair. It was a tiny, thoughtless, but comfortingly intimate gesture. Despite the best efforts of the late January weather, Magritte felt remarkably warmed.

Tchaikovsky came to an end, and both she and Tess contributed to the roar of applause that persisted even as the musicians stood to leave, abandoning their instruments on the stage.

Keeping with the applause, Margie leaned towards Tess’s ear. “Sit tight, there’s prolly gonna be a–oop, yep!”

Her statement was confirmed before she even had time to finish saying it, as the musicians quickly emerged to retake their seats on the stage. As they did, Margie stopped clapping, waiting to hear if their encore was a song she could identify. As the rest of the applause died down, two additional figures took position onto the stage; a trio of previously absent musicians took positions on the stage. Or, at least–if they had been present previously, they were on entirely different instruments, now. Three electric guitars, one of which was a bass.

Margie squinted at the rightmost guitarist and her bumblebee-yellow Kramer. “Oh, woah–is that Naomi? Tess, you see her!?” She couldn’t help but pick up an applause with an exhilarated whoop at seeing a friendly face among the cast of talented strangers.

It worked to catch Naomi’s attention, and Margie was rewarded with an acknowledging little wave, bright smile, and a thumbs up.

Clasping her hands together, Margie leaned back in her seat with a delighted giggle. “That’s so cool, this is gonna be so good!”

A blanket of quiet settled upon the venue, and after a moment's pause, the orchestra’s instruments sprang to life once more. The number opened with a swelling whirl of notes that immediately swept Margie’s imagination into the realm of Broadway romance. And then–

She heard his voice.

A pleasing falsetto that wove itself beautifully into the airy strings, Margie knew who she was hearing before he had even walked onto the stage. One note was all it took.

youtube

I got inspired to post cringe, I hope you like it lmaooo About a year prior to these events, Margie and Tess had accompanied Raf to a very emotionally turbulent trip to Monaco. It wasn't a vacation, and it wasn't what any of them would describe as particularly enjoyable...Perhaps some day, we'll learn more about what happened there and why he went. One thing that did happen, on a very desperate whim, is that Raf had asked Margie to marry him. No real proposal--something asserted on the spot, motivated more by fear than anything else. Margie said yes, of course--but only on the condition that he ask her again once they were settled back home in Vancouver. She said--promised--she wasn't going to bring it up again unless he brought it up first; that there was no pressure for him to repeat the question once he was feeling comfortable and secure again. It's just--he seemed too emotionally compromised for Margie to really accept the proposal as one that was offered to her with soundness of mind. And so--to ensure that it was something he actually meant--she would forget it was asked at all, until he brought it up again on his own accord upon their return to Canada. No need to any special occasion, now jewelry, none of that--just ask the same way he did in Monaco...but without the undercurrent of panic coloring his judgement. They returned from Monaco safe and sound, and neither Margie nor Raf breathed a word about the Monaco proposal. Margie assumed Raf forgot--or perhaps he had come to his better senses and no longer felt like his well being and safety relied on lawfully locking down their relationship together. As she had expected would be the case. On the other hand, Raf had waited two months to see if Margie would bring it up at all, or if she'd stick to her promise and release him from the obligation of following through. To him, it seemed like she had completely forgotten; ss though he had never asked her to marry him at all. Unbeknownst to her, he hadn't changed his mind. The fact that she wouldn't so much as even allude to it for his sake only imbued further confidence in his decision. She had been with him through hell and high water, she was there in all the ways she promised to be, she gave him the space and the grace he needed, carried him through some of his lowest days, and kept him safe when he was certain no one in the world ever could. She loved him during his worst days, and shouldered his worst behaviors only because she loved being with him. She never asked him for anything spectacular. She never wished to see him spend the limit of his resources on her. She only ever wished to enjoy things with him--and his enjoyment was a critical part of that desire. Over the several years they had been together, one thing became abundantly clear; Margie deserved every good thing he could grant her. Margie could be trusted to receive his best efforts and his greatest gifts without ruin. And for the first time in his life, he wanted to give those to someone--to her. Because it felt right. Because he'd love doing so. Because she fucking deserved it. Performances had become pretty comfortable for Raf by this point. He, Margie, and Tess had been doing them on the semi-regular before certain events dragged him back to Monaco. Even his post performance PTSD episodes--while still present--were far more manageable than they had ever been. He no longer plagued with week-long emotional lows that greatly overshadowed the euphoria of a great performance. Things just felt...more balanced.

Enough so that Raf decided his proposal to Magritte would, itself, be a performance. Planned and organized by him, with the help of Hi-Note. If he could organize an perform a concert as a gift for someone he loved--without succumbing to abject terror and paranoia at any point during the months of preparation--well... That kind of freedom over himself would be the best gift he's ever received. And so--he planned the performance/proposal for his birthday. Margie watched the last half of the orchestra concert with Tess, having no idea that Raf would be the encore act. Tess, of course, had been in on it as a collaborator. She knew the guard would address her for the seating--they had met prior as part of the preparations. She and Raf both knew that Margie wouldn't find anything suspect in the fact that Tess would be spontaneously offered some kind of V.I.P seating. Tess's ridiculous, ambiguous "celebrity status" had basically become a meme between them at this point. It wasn't unusual... It was all planned. And everything played out pretty well according to that plan. Once Raf too the stage, Tess pulled Margie out of her seat and led her to the stage (exchanging a thumbs-up with Nels along the way). Margie followed along in good fun. By this point, she knew shenanigans were afoot--and slipped into her role very agreeably once Nels confirmed that, yes, she's expected on the stage. She was happy to play along.

The dance she and Raf "perform" wasn't any choreographed thing. Rather, it's the same kind of lackadaisical dancing they'd often do in their livingroom at home haha. And then...there was no more performance...just overwhelm and joy and a lot of love...and Kirby rings lmaooo which made her even MORE overwhelmed. And then the rest of the night was just one big overjoyed, emotional blur. Okay, I've typed too much...this is all very silly, but I made it so you can have the whole bunch of it! Bonus: The next morning, they woke up with a terrible cold...and spent the entire day recovering in bed lmao

(happy birthday, Raf lmao).

#Hi-Note #Rafael #Magritte #Tess #I'M CRINGE BUT I AM SO FREEEE #Youtube

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beiibeiii · 22 days ago

Text

do you think i have forgotten?

arlecchino x f!reader angst

how its like falling out of love with arlecchino

cw: angst, slight fluff at start, slight miscommunication??, reader crying, arlecchino changes drastically after marriage, reader is unaware of arlecchino's real name, implied cheating??

art creds: ahriii7 on X

not proofread, u can tell i got lazy halfway through, its also been a while since i last posted, sorry, tsw is getting bad again + i've had a bit of a heartbreak ahaha </3

she told you it was 'love at first sight.'

all her life, arlecchino had thought she was walking this hellish place called earth. that she was born a curse, another devil of this world, only to cause destruction and sorrow. arlecchino had always isolated herself, telling herself, over and over again, that emotions are weak, absolutely pointless. and for the longest time, she believed it all, until you shone a light into her life of misfortune. you was an angel in her eyes. despite her unapproachable self, no matter how many times she tried to push you away, you still smiled sweetly at her, your soft, carefree personality stood out to her so much. effortlessly piercing each wall of fire enclosed around her heart.

you might not of known it, but you saved her unfortunate soul from desolation. you opened her eyes and showed her that, 'maybe this world wasn't so bad'.

and so, from that day onwards she had always devoted herself fully to you. allowing you to break down her walls and see her vulnerable side, her true self. arlecchino thought something was wrong with her. these sick-ish loving feelings all stirred in her heart. she would feel her gaze soften when her eyes laid upon you. her ears constantly heating up around you as her heart started thumping louder against her chest. for once, she would struggle and be at a loss of words. you were such a contradiction to her, you made her feel such repulsive symptoms, but made her feel at ease, relaxed and.. understood.

arlecchino felt like a fool for believing in something as stupid as 'love at first sight', but god, she had completely fallen for you. she treated you with respect and gave you everything you wanted. you still remember when she first asked you out with a love letter. it was the sweetest thing she had ever given you.

'for this heart has been stolen and sealed only for you, my dearest.'

reads the last line. you still remember it fondly, always cherishing it close to your heart. you immediately said yes.

you just remember getting home from your first date and just rolling around you bed, squealing like a kid at a candy shop, feeling your cheeks heat up, blushing furiously at how just beautiful and gentle arlecchino was - despite her harsh resting face. she never complained, she was such a gentlewoman, always understanding you and just.. loved you for who you were. she always would always make the effort to write poems in her letters to you whenever she was busy. they were always the most beautiful poems thats captured your eyes, glancing over each word over and over again, mesmerising you with her words. it was just to show that you were always, running through the messy labyrinths of her mind, constantly.

and so, after so many years of being together arlecchino made the first move. the atmosphere was perfect. you were just watching the sunset with her standing shoulder to shoulder. she turned to you before getting down on her knees at a beautiful beach and proposed to you on the pier. you felt your breath hitch in surprise. you heart swelling with so much love as you watched her present a stunning diamond ring in front of you. you felt tears well up in your eyes. she.. was proposing to you.

the orange hues of the skies coloured your face beautifully. god you looked ethereal in her eyes. she had always had nothing in this life, nor has she ever wanted anything. but she so desperately wanted this one thing. to have you say yes to be hers for ever, and for her to be yours. she wanted so badly to show her devotion for you.

"will you marry me, my love?"

the words left her mouth. you felt as if time slowed down as she looks up at you, her loving gaze meeting your surprised, teary ones. your eyes lit up as you repeatedly said 'yes' like a mantra. you had the biggest smiled stretched across your face, your eyes were curled in happiness as tears ran down your face. arlecchino smiled softly. she let out a breath she didn't know she was holding. she felt so relieved, that she had something in her life.

arlecchino pulled you into a soft, tender kissed, your lips meeting hers as the tears trickled down your face. you didn't even have to think twice about accepting her. you knew she loved you and you loved her. you both pull away as arlecchino slips the engagement ring onto your slim, soft fingers.

"i love you so much." she mumbles softly under her breath, gently bringing your hand to her lips, kissing your fingers with your new engagement ring on it tenderly.

before you knew it, it had already been 4 years. as time went on, everything felt like it was only going up. arlecchino had kept her promise, she was always softer to you, treating you with respect, treating you as her wife. you both had gotten married and was living fulfilled, comfortable lives.

not until she started to change. you can barely remember when you starting noticing her newfound, avoidant tendencies. it was only small things at first like how she stopped updating you about her whereabouts, stopped any unnecessary conversations with you and stopped staying in bed a little bit longer in the mornings with you.

"arle, whats going on with you?" you ask her firmly. finally mustering the courage to ask her after a week. your fed up of it now, fed up with her. you know she wasn't one to wear her heart on her sleeve, but why wouldn't she just talk to you!? she used to always listen and take any worries off your chest, and you wanted to do that for her too. you were her spouse for crying out loud. she casts her unwavering gaze down to you. you feel the silence thickening between you two. her breath no longer paused for a second. her eyes didn't soften this time.

"nothing is going on. i have places to be, farewell." arlecchino dismisses you apathetically.

what the fuck? is that all she had to say after a week of avoiding you? your lips part, your mind racking up something to say to get her to listen. before you can even get a word out, she walks right past you. her gaze shot through you, as if you were just a ghost to her. you frown, turning around in exasperation at her, she had left the front door already.

you softly pinch your nose bridge with your fingers, letting out a small irritated breath. you tried to not think much of it, it was probably just another one of those days where she was busy and stressed. you told yourself that she was just clearing her mind, thats she would talk to you after her mind wasn't working 24/7. she always avoided as much conflict as possible with you, even if that meant distancing herself. right?

it wasn't until her avoidance got more frequent, her schedule was less busy but she still didn't spend any quality time with you.

"are you free today..?" you voice mellow. you somehow managed to catch her while she was sat at on the couch reading a book. you had sat yourself down, leaning your head on her shoulder. she doesn't move from her spot or push your head away thankfully. your eyebrows furrowed lightly, trying a softer approach this time.

"busy.." she mumbles lowly, clearly uninterested. she doesn't even spare a glance at you. why was she being so difficult?

she stopped picking up your calls, came home after you slept and left before you would wake up. she stopped complimenting you and stopped physical touch with you, she stopped everything regarding you.

she had gone completely cold. you didn't feel like you stood next to her anymore, you felt your self worth plummet to the ground right beside her. her gaze was as colder than it was when you first met her. her words were always laced with annoyance, you felt like such an inconvenience in her life.

she had changed so much, she promised to be good for you, to love you forever, to always be with you throughout the thick and thin. you don't even recognise her anymore. she used to be so good to you, always prioritising you over everything, no matter how hard work was. she used to always try her best to comfort you and constantly reassured you with hugs and kisses, even if she wasn't the most positive person you know.

you knew that the arlecchino from back then would never of dared to even think about treating you like how she was now.

it all clicked when you had woken up in the middle of the night one day while she was still getting ready. it was probably 4am, you didn't move or anything, just laying there with heavy eyelids. you were exhausted. you can feel the moonlight as you see her figure swiping her wedding ring off her finger and pocketing it.

your heart dropped, shattering into thousands of pieces. you shift a little in the bed from surprise. you hear as arlecchino hums in curiosity. her sharp gaze turning to the bed. you immediately regret it, squeezing your eyelids shut in hopes she doesn't notice you're awake. but apart of you wanted her to notice. what would she say? would she be apologetic? would she be mad at you perhaps?

it didn't matter what she reacted with, that wasn't what concerned you. you just wanted to hear her voice, to talk to her again. even if she was shouting at you. you didn't care if she was angry with you, at least it was still about you. you were astonished by the fact she was still sleeping in the same bed as you, as long as she was just around.. nothing mattered right?

thankfully, you were saved by her phone ringing quietly on the bedside table. she walks away from the mirror and picks up her phone. answering the call as she sits on the side of the bed, right next to you. her hand lowers, resting it on the bed as her other hand brings her phone to her ear.

her pointer finger idly taps on the mattress as she crosses her legs. her expression aloof as usual. the mumbles of the person on the other side of the phone could be heard, but you could make out some parts of their speech.

at first it was just usual work related things, they were just talking about things you didnt even know of. until suddenly..

"is your spouse home arlecchino?" the voice on the other side of the phone asks.

arlecchino pauses for a while. turning to face you. she could see the exhaustion on your face despite being 'asleep'. it must've been hard for you these past few weeks. she thinks to herself.

"i don't know what you're talking about. i don't have a spouse." she lowly mutters.

she was lying.. you felt like everything she once told you was lies, every word that dripped like venom from her mouth. every word she uttered haunted you in every living moment of your life. how could she pretend you didn't exist..

arlecchinos hand absentmindedly makes her way to your hair, twirling your hair between her fingers. despite her cold demeanour, her touch was somewhat gentle. it brought back memories of when arlecchino used to play with your hair any chance she got. it left a deep hole of painful nostalgia through your chest. you wanted to just cry at her familiar yet so foreign touch.

unfortunately, old habits die hard.

"really? don't lie to me peruere." the voice laughs.

your feel her grip on your hair tighten a little, you try your best to hold back yelping at the sudden pain. her eyes narrowed as her gaze. she watched as your eyebrows furrowed a little. she still hadn't you were awake, right?

"i told you not to call me by my real name, peruere, you understand?" she lowly growls back, averting her gaze from you to her hand in your hair.

peruere? you had never heard that name before.. was that really her real name? how did this person on the phone know about it when you didn't? you were married to her, surely she would've of told you.

even her name was another fucking lie..

eventually arlecchino hangs up with a sigh, pulling her hand away from your hair to rub your cheek with the back of her finger for a second, gazing at you. the call perhaps giving her second thoughts, you hoped. her touch was light before quickly pulling away again. she stood up from the mattress, turning away. her gaze narrowing.

"what a fool.." she mumbles to herself as she leaves the room, shutting the door behind her.

you now find yourself alone, by the balcony. tears running down your face as you hold back from sobbing your heart out. your blurry vision gazes at arlecchino's car disappearing in the distance. you chew your lip hard, fuck your chest feels so tight. you now glance down at the diamond ring wrapped around your finger. the very same one from all those years ago. the diamond still lightly glimmers in the moonlight. it was as if it too was grasping onto the last specks, the last glimmer of hope. what love did to you back then, love did now. it gnaws through you, decaying your bones.

her words coming back to your mind, echoing and taking over you. what do you with all this grief, with all the love you had left to give her? your lips purse, recalling how she thinks tears are the product of emotion and weakness. god you really were just weak weren't you? what made you think you deserved someone so high ranking as arlecchino, no.. peruere..? god you missed who she used to be so bad.. how can you be haunted by the words of someone who is still alive?

'find what you love and let it kill you, because it is much better to be killed by a lover.'

arlecchino once write to you.

perhaps she was writing about her old self. the one that didn't believe in love. not until you killed took her old heart and replaced it with one that showed she was capable of love.

but now, maybe your the one getting 'killed' by her now. she was taking your heart and ripping it to shreds, right in front of you.

so you should just give in, let her 'kill' you, because you really do love her.

#bei works #bei randoms #arlecchino x reader #arlecchino angst #arlecchino x reader angst #super sad face #sobs i wish ppl didnt change #arlecchino x female reader #arlecchino x you #arlecchino #genshin x reader #genshin x you #arlecchino genshin impact #arlecchino fluff #genshin impact x you #genshin wlw #wlw #genshin impact #genshin angst

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iplayghoul · 8 months ago

Text

𝐦𝐨𝐨𝐧 𝐦𝐚𝐝𝐞

pairing:: onyankopon x reader

wc:: 2.6k

warnings:: umm starts off as soft sex, they get a lil crazy (my fault), tongue sucking, squirting, cunnilingus all that. nothing too crazy. using 'mama' and 'ma', reader has braids and acrylics.

note:: heyy.. how yall doin 😅 work below the cut.. dont beat my ass

“You remind me of the sun, ony’,” you mumble, cheek pressed against his bare bicep with your head resting soft against the picnic blanket as you look up at the night sky. He's like the sun to you. “mm, yeah What– does that mean, pretty?” His voice is deep… just above a whisper and in your peripheral vision you see him looking at you but your eyes are fixated on the stars above. “I dunno, your skin is always so warm when I feel cold but– I gravitate towards you all the time. Like all the other stars do. You exude something… mmph, what m’ I saying rightnow.” You fumble, chuckling lightly at your lack of words.

“do you believe in destiny? like ‘written in the stars’ n’ shit? Hm?” Onyankopon speaks up, you feel an emotion behind his tone you can't quite describe. It sounded like… uncertainty, insecurity. “Well, you know how my exes were… I'd like to think those were just unfortunate circumstances that I'm tryna grow from, baby. I don't wanna think the universe puts us through that on purpose… y'know?” You sit up, pretty little night dress falling down to cover your thighs. Your hands holding you up as you look around the night sky. The full moon tonight facilitated an impromptu shoving of a picnic blanket onto the balcony, warm glasses of chai tea emptied and hot in your bellies as you laid together to watch the moon.

Onyankopon rests his head with his hands behind his head, admiring you. He clears his throat, “I love you. Y'know that?”, “I do know that, you know I love you too?” You look at him over your shoulder before turning over and pressing your palms onto his stomach, he groans in faux pain. “Mhm,” He purrs, sitting up to clasp your hands in his own, tugging you onto his lap. “I know that, mama,” the moon was so bright. It illuminated the darkness around you both on the balcony and glimmered in his eyes. You stare. His moistened lips glistening in the light, you scoot closer to him. Chest pressed against your breasts and he sits handsomely, basking in your gaze and touch. Pretty white french tip acrylic nails with bow decor caresses his neck, scratching the back his neck and playing with his ears. Ony’ shivers lightly.

“Why you touchin’ on me like that, hm?” He bites back a smile when u tug at his earlobe. “Gimme a kiss,” You murmur, lips sealed by the clasp of his against yours. He pecks your lips several more times, Onyankopon really liked the texture of your lip gloss on his lips. Hands drag down his chest, following the tiny lines of his wife-beater: twirling the drawstring of his sweats.

“Do you wanna–”

“No,” Your eyes meet his, and Ony’ watches you as kind as ever, with his stupid handsome face. “No, baby,” He kisses his teeth, “Not g'na fuck you out here. Not on the balcony,” his cheeks deepen with dimples as he offers you a low chuckle.

“‘M not asking you to fuck me.” You roll your eyes teasingly,”And what's wrong with out here . . . we got blankets and pillows, s'comfy baby,” He's offered a sweet smile, the lavender rubber bands on your braces reminded him of the colours of the night, so he looks up at the sky.

The moon colours dusted blue and purple hues onto the clouds that bordered it. Reflecting and sparkling in your eyes and your face. Shit . . .

“What I'm asking, is that you make love to me, Ony’,” You whisper, resting your head in his neck. Onyankopon sucks a deep breath in between his teeth. “Grab some f'them pillows.” He uttered.

Ony’ scoots forward, shamelessly staring at your ass as you bunched up the pillows scattered across the balcony and stuffing them behind where he previously sat, blankets included and teacups pushed far aside. “Lay back right there,” , “Mkay . . . ,” You whisper, eyes flickering to his position while he only eyes you, fixing your braids behind your ears and tucking yourself comfortably back into the mound of pillows and blankets. “Mhm, pull it up,” Onyankopon turned to you and gave your night dress a light tug, eyes still focused everywhere else but your own.

You shuffled, clutching the little thing up above your hips, pretty panties scrunched up between your legs . . . you wore some random ones with rainbows on it. “Take it off, ma’,” Onyankopon ordered, his mouth muffled by the hand on his chin, finger pressing into his lips while he watched you. Gingerly, you hook your acrylics beneath the band slipping the panties off. Flustered, your legs remained snapped shut, though your puffy cunt still pushed itself out, feeling tickled and tingly at the touch of the cold air. It was the type of wind that blew before a cozy storm. And you nibble on your bottom lip. Ony’ grabs your knees, prying them apart. He watched how the moonshine glistened against your pussy.

He pushed your legs back ‘till your knees brushed the blankets behind you, “Ony’ don't stare,” a grumble escaped you, body warm. He hummed. Leaning down, Ony’ spread your pussy further with his thumbs before offering your clit a kiss. You gasp softly, expecting the upcoming stimulation anxiously, wishing he could just skip this part n’ pull his dick out. You drop your head back into the pillows, eyes to the stars and moon when you feel Onyankopon's tongue swirl over your hole before dipping in gently. He likes to take his time. He does this a few more times and you whine, eyes falling shut when you feel him drag his tongue over your clit. Then, he's going in; he's licking up n’ down your cunt, sucking your clit into his mouth n’ tugging it to let it snap back into your pussy. You moan freely, thick into the air. The clouds above moved with the wind and suddenly the moon sent glows onto your face, so much so that you opened your teary eyes to see what was so bright on your face.

Onyankopon groans vibrations into your pussy when he sees your face, overcome with pleasure under the moonshine. He dips his face into you, licking circles about your cunt, kissing and suckling, and spitting, and slipping his tongue deep in you. “Ony’, Ony’ c'mon,” You whine, hands dancing behind his neck, pushing his face deeper into your cunt when you feel your clit throb hard. He makes circles around your clit, kissing it and once sucking it into his mouth. “Right there, right there,” You ache when he tilts his head and tongues a spot of your clit and you start grinding your body into his face. He thinks he might suffocate in the best way possible. Little glossy pearls of tears glide down the sides of your cheeks and tickle your ear. Head pressing back into the pillows when the rest of your body arches forward to Ony's mouth. You spread your legs so wide and they stiffened, all you feel is his tongue around your clit now pushing out undisturbed by your folds and you grab your braids tight. He stuffs two fingers inside you while maintaining his motions on your clit, sloppily fucking them into you, twisting them with each stroke and you think your ears are actually ringing. With it, you let out a sob and squeal, “Fuck! Fuck, oh-my-god, Ony–,” then it was silence, “Breath, mama, breathe,” Ony groaned, and suddenly you were gasping for air, cumming hard.

Your lips were quivering, feeling somewhat numb while Ony’ offered you some slow calming strokes with his fingers as you mellowed down. “Shit, you still want s’m cock after that?” He gave your clit a final kiss, seeing your bleary eyes as you sniffle and sigh. Your legs ached when you tried to move, closing them slowly. “Gimme a minute,” you pout and flop your head back down into the pillows, collecting yourself a bit, eyes blinking wearily. “S’ sensitive, m’ sorry,” Ony’ only re-fluffs some of the blankets and pillows that were now pushed askew, lifting your lower body by your legs while he pushed them back beneath you.

“Chill out,” He whispered, shifting to lay beside you and look at the sky. “S’ finna rain soon,” He announced,”Mhm, yeah,” You push your legs out, throwing your arms above you for a big stretch, squeezing your thighs tight to block your exposed pussy from the cold air. “Want head?” you peep at Ony’ who rests his hands behind his head. He shakes his head ‘no’ and stretches. You observe him and openly stare at his hard dick printing out of his sweats. Leaning forward, you rub, ever so gently, along the shaft while he watched you.

“‘Kay, get over right here,” Ony’ sat up moving from his spot, gesturing for you to situate yourself there with a quickness and brushing your hand off him. You huff, teasing, and pull your night dress back down as you crawl on your hands and knees to the pillows. Lay on your back and braids adjusted, Ony grabs your night dress, tugging it back up your body and kissing his teeth. “Keep playin’,” He gives your ass a playful smack and you giggle.

Grabbing your ankles, Onyankopon pushes your legs all the way back. What you'd like to call, ‘knee headphones’ the way they were in line with your ears. Some traces of creamy white release cooled under the air, clit puffing out and hole aching to be stimulated again. Ony’ adjusts himself above you, leaning close and tugging his sweats down, letting his pretty, dark dick fall out and slap your thigh. Fuck, you might cry. Little beads of pre-cum dripped from the tip, he was already girthy, yet his cock got thicker and meatier towards the center of the shaft. “Y'gonna go slow?” Ony lines up, pressing his tip into you and smiles,”Yea, mama, i’mma go slow,” He sinks and drawls out a long, ”Fuck.”

His heavy hand grips your thighs, pressing you down into the pillows. Onyankopon adjusts himself over you, letting his weight hold you down while he all but throbs in you. Legs now thrown over his shoulders and dark brown eyes staring deep into your own, fighting your weighted eyelids. “Bet’ not run, ma',” Onyankopon observes your face, licking his lips and giving you a quick peck, he resists indulging you when you pout and instead kisses about your damp cheeks and neck. “Oh-my-god,” you squeal when he begins to lift his hips out of you.

Onyankopon's hands cage your head, and the closeness leaves you nowhere to grab; thus your hands are left to mindlessly flop back onto the pillows. Nice and easy . . . proper n’ slow, he begins to rock his hips into you, “Why you suckin’ me in like that, mama?” He groans low. Ony’ let's his forehead rest on yours while the tip of his dick nudges the spongy mound inside you. “Ony’ your fuckin’ dick,” you whimper, “W’ssup wit’ it, huh?”, Onyankopon pressed his lips to yours in a wet kiss, grinning when he sees your pretty little eyes welling with tears. “Deeper–,” a sniffle, “Want it– deeper, shiiiit,” And he gives you just that, digging his fat dick deeper with each antagonizing stroke. Your cleavage bounces beneath your chin with each thwack of his hips into yours, tits having been firmly mushed into Ony's chest and you feel like you're gaping. Thighs burning n’ cunt stretching as he slowly builds the well in your tummy to milk you. “Mhm, watchu’ wanted?” You only groan and bite your lips, eyes screwed shut as you lay limp on the pillows getting fucked. Onyankopon gives your cheek a few slaps, “Answer me ‘fore I stop, don't play,” You force your eyes open and see Ony's eyes locked on yours. Brows furrowed and mouth ajar, that pussy felt fuckin’ good. “Yea, s’ what I wanted– daddy, fuck,” You let out a bratty sob when sloppily fucks into you faster before slowing again.

“Stick y'tongue out,” Onyankopon hums lowly, and you're not sure if you can focus on anything besides the smack of his hips and the squelching coming from his cock. You still comply, tongue lolling out from your mouth with heavy breathes. Ony’s dick throbs inside you, and he slurps your tongue into his mouth, suckling on it before locking your lips to his, tongue massaging yours. “Takin’ that fuckin’ dick, mhm,” His lips glide over your cheeks, fucking into you with fervor. He mumbles a chant of, “Shit, shit, shit,” pummeling you with his cock, reaching depths in your cunt you hadn't even discovered before. Ony’ seemed determined on knocking the fucking wind out of you and stuffing your swollen, little pussy full of dick. “Oh–,” wails escaping your lips, “Ohmygod unh, f– daddy, fuck,” you continue to mewl.

Your hands frantically grasp any and everything, your braids, Onyankopon's back, your ankles, the pillows; entire body gyrating as he fucks you. Onyankopon tongues your neck, licking about your ear, kissing your cheek. Your cunt feels sticky, s’ sloppy and warm and your entire body feels hot all over. Your eyes roll back and he's got you so trapped under him getting pounded that you can't even arch up into him. Cunt remaining spread at just the right angle and makes your legs quiver. Onyankopon let's out a tight groan and you feel the curve of his cock digging you hard. “G'nna make me fuckin’ cum. Squeezin’ on me like that, mama.” His sharp words muttered right into the shell of your ear making you clench hard. “Mu'fuckin’, sloppy pussy,” He lifts off you and pushes your legs above your head, crossing your ankles as he holds them together for leverage.

“N– Oh, no,no,no, Onya–!” you uttered out with gasps at the new angle. “Take it, take it, take it,” Ony’ murmured. Just like that, warmth squirted out of your cunt, dripping down his abdominals and pooling right between you where the hilt of his cock slapped into your folds as he kept drilling himself into you. “Mmmmph,” You can't help but cry and moan, cheeks feeling a bit warm with embarrassment yet it's overcome by the exponential throbbing of your clit. Your hand started tapping the pillows, shaking as you tried to tap out of whatever Ony’ was serving you right now. “C'mon,” He whispered, “I gotchu’.” It's like he senses it, thumbing your clit lightly.

“Need it! Need– it, daddy, shit,” You peer up at him.

“I know you do, baby, give it to me,” His commands echoes in your head, over and over. You're gasping, body jiggling off the pillows and slapping back up into his, “‘M . . . fuck, daddy,” sobbing and failing at formulating your words.

“‘M cumming, I'm cumming, oh my god.”

Your hips stiffen up and with each pelting thrust Ony’ cussed above you; a harsh wind blows and you think the coldness against your hot body makes you gush all over his cock while he cums alot. You blink the tears out of your eyes when Onyankopon fucks your cum mixture back into you a couple more times, before pulling out quick to avoid you being too sore and pained for him to move then plopping beside you on the pillows. Your legs fall carelessly below and all you hear besides silence are his harsh breaths and his deep voice asking you something you can't yet register, your clits throbbing too hard.

The moon really did look pretty tonight. Onyankopon does remind you of the sun. Shit, you felt like you were sitting among the fuckin’ stars.

#﹒﹒﹒💗 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦: 𝘭𝘪𝘮𝘦𝘭𝘭𝘢 💌 𓂃 !#onyankopon x reader #attack on titan smut #aot smut #onyankopon #ony x reader #onyankopon smut #aot onyankopon #onyankopon snk #onyankopon x black y/n #onyankapon #onyankopon x you #attack on titan

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ageingfangirl2 · 4 months ago

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A Hell Of A Promotion - Manjiro 'Mikey' Sano (Tokyo Revengers)

When you bump into the big boss, his attitude annoys you. Until he offers you a promotion, you can't turn it down. What exactly did you sign up for? Manjiro 'Mikey' Sano x Female Reader (SMUT) Bonten timeline.

*SMUT, Fingering, Oral, Blow Jobs, Degrading Names, Office Sex*

Word Count: 4603

It had been a long day and it was only 1 pm. You were walking down the sidewalk not looking where you were going, annoyed that your lunch break had been cut short. When you didn’t notice the dislodged slab until it was too late and you tripped. The coffee in your hand flies out in front of you, and your eyes widen in shock as it spills down the suit of the man directly in front of you.

This wasn’t any ordinary man, no, you recognised the white hair and menacing black eyes anywhere.

‘What. The. Fuck!,’ he growls, his voice deep.

You had just spilt coffee on the dangerous boss of Bonten Manjiro Sano.

‘I’m…so…sorry…’ you stutter, knowing your fate was sealed.

He looks at you with a glare that could cut through steel. His eyes narrow as he takes in your appearance, from your now dishevelled hair to your slightly coffee-stained blouse. He steps closer, invading your personal space as he towers over you.

‘You clumsy little fool. Do you have any idea how much this suit cost? It's worth more than anything you own, I bet. And now its ruined because of your carelessness,’ he grabs your chin roughly, forcing you to look up at him, ‘what are you going to do about it, hmmm?’

His grip tightens slightly as he waits for your response, clearly expecting more than a simple apology. There’s a dangerous glint in his eyes, a predatory gleam that sends shivers down your spine, even as your heart pounds in your chest.

‘Err let me get it cleaned for you,’ you offer, voice shaking.

He scoffs, releasing your chin and steps back. His haze rakes over you dismissively, ‘cleaned? Are you kidding me? This suit is beyond repair. The stain is too deep and the fabric is delicate. No amount of ‘cleaning’ will fix it.’

He reaches into his suit pocket and the breath catches in your throat thinking he’d pull out a gun and shoot you, but instead, he pulls out a business card and extends it towards you with a knowing smirk.

‘Here. Take this. It’s the number of my tailor. But don’t expect any favours, you owe me big for this.’

Mikey turns on his heel. Over his shoulder he adds, ‘And maybe next time, watch where you’re going before you ruin someone else's day.’

‘You don’t have to be such a jerk,’ you mutter.

He stops abruptly, whirling around to face you once more. His expression darkens as he stalks towards you, all the colour leaving your face realising you’d fucked up royally. He leans in close, his breath hot against your ear as he speaks in a low menacing growl.

‘A jerk? Oh, sweetheart, you have no idea. I’ve been called worse things than that,’ his hand shoots out, gripping your wrist tightly as he yanks you flush against his body. You can feel the hard planes of his muscles through his shirt, the heat radiating off him in waves when you expect him to be cold.

‘But let me tell you something. When someone spills their drink on me, they damn well better show some respect. And right now, you’re not nearly showing me enough.’

You can’t help but look away from his intense eyes, not aware of your thighs clenching involuntarily. But Mikey notices your reaction and smirks wider, pleased by your obvious attraction despite your attitude.

‘Looks like someone is enjoying the view,’ he chuckles darkly, the sound sending another shiver down your spine, ‘well go ahead and indulge. I won’t judge…much…’

He leans in again, his warm breath ghosting your ear as he murmurs, ‘In fact, why don’t we take this somewhere more private? My office isn’t too far away, we can discuss repayment options for my suit…and perhaps explore other ways you could make amends.’

He tilts his head to the side waiting for a response. You usually weren’t this daring, but the air crackles with tension, heavy with unspoken possibilities.

You bite your lip, ‘I know where the office is, do you not bother to learn the faces and names of those beneath you? I’m the secretary at the main desk.’

He raises an eyebrow. A slow, wicked grin spreads across his face as understanding dawns, ‘The secretary, huh? Well, well, well. How delightfully...convenient.’

He takes a step closer, backing you up against the nearest wall. His hands come to rest on either side of your head, caging you in as he looms over you.

‘I must admit, I hadn't pegged you for the type to play hard to get. But I suppose that's part of your charm,’ his lips grazing the shell of your ear as he whispers, ‘Tell me, little secretary...are you going to make me work extra hard to get what I want from you? Or will you give in easily, like the good little toy you seem to be?’

You shuffle nervously on the spot, knowing there is no way out of your current situation other than to comply, ‘I guess I did ruin your suit, and technically you are my boss and I do like my job…’

His eyes light up with a predatory gleam at your words, a knowing smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. He leans in closer, his lips brushing against your ear as he murmurs in a low, seductive tone, ‘Is that so? Well then, I think we can come to a mutually beneficial arrangement,’ One hand slides down your side, coming to rest on your hip possessively, ‘You'll help me out of this predicament...and I'll ensure your position remains secure. Everyone wins.’

He nips at your earlobe teasingly before pulling back slightly, his gaze boring into yours with an intensity that steals your breath, ‘So what do you say, my dear secretary? Ready to seal the deal?’

You nod your head and utter a single word, ‘Yes.’

A triumphant grin splits his face as he hears your agreement. Without wasting another second, he grabs your hand and starts leading you swiftly down the street towards the towering skyscraper housing his company headquarters.

‘Excellent choice. You won't regret it, I promise.’ His voice drips with sensual promise as he guides you inside the lobby and towards the elevator bank. Once the doors slide closed behind you, trapping you alone together in the small space, he pins you against the wall with his body, one hand sliding up to cup your cheek while the other grips your hip firmly.

‘Now then, where were we? Ah yes...discussing terms,’ He leans in, capturing your lips in a searing kiss that leaves you breathless and wanting more. As the elevator pings its arrival at the top floor, he breaks away with a smirk.

You pout, ‘how have you not noticed me? My desk is the first thing you see when you walk out of the elevator.’

Mikey chuckles low in his throat, the sound vibrating against your lips as he holds you close, ‘Perhaps I've been too focused on running the empire to pay attention to every little detail...like the woman who's been sitting right under my nose all along.’

He presses a lingering kiss to your forehead, his hand trailing down to weave into your hair as he gazes into your eyes with a newfound appreciation, ‘But now that I have, I intend to make the most of it.’

The elevator doors open, revealing the sleek, modern interior of his office. With a final squeeze, Kenny releases you and steps back, gesturing grandly for you to precede him inside, ‘After you, my dear secretary. Let's discuss those...repayment terms in private.’

You notice that his assistant isn’t at her desk and frown, ‘Where’s Mia, she likes good gossip.’

He laughs, a rich, velvety sound that sends a shiver down your spine, ‘Ah, poor Mia. She's been transferred. Thought it would be good for her to spread her wings, so to speak,’ he winks suggestively, though you weren’t sure if she was dead or alive.

‘Besides, I prefer my interactions with you to be...unfiltered,’ he steps closer, his presence dominating the space between you, ‘Now, about that repayment…’

He closes the distance, claiming your mouth in a hungry kiss that leaves you gasping for air. When he finally pulls back, his eyes burn with a fierce, carnal hunger, ‘I believe a demonstration of your dedication would be in order. On my desk. Now.’

He takes your hand, guiding it to the bulge straining against his trousers, ‘Feel that, sweetheart? That's what happens when a man gets excited. And trust me, you're the cause of it,’ he grins wickedly, ‘Now, are you going to continue stalling, or are you ready to prove your worth?’

Without waiting for a response, he spins you around and pushes you onto his desk, the cool surface a stark contrast to the heat of his body as he looms over you, ‘Let's start with a little exploration, shall we?’ His hands roam over your curves, mapping out the contours of your body with a possessive touch.

You gasp against each touch, ‘How exactly is this repayment?’

Mikey leans in, his hot breath fanning over your ear as he speaks in a low, husky tone, ‘This, my dear, is merely the beginning. A taste of what's to come,’ His hands slide lower, deftly unbuttoning your blouse and slipping inside to caress the soft skin beneath,

‘Consider this an investment in your future. By satisfying my desires, you're securing your place here...and maybe even earning a promotion,’ he laughs, nipping at your earlobe, ‘Of course, there may be certain...tasks assigned to you in exchange for your loyalty.’

He pushes your blouse off your shoulders, letting it pool on the floor. His fingers dance across the lace of your bra, toying with the delicate fabric, ‘Now, let's see what other secrets you're hiding under that prim and proper exterior.’

‘What kind of promotion, I’m not complaining sir, I’m just a little confused,’ you say honestly.

He smiles, a cold, calculating expression that belies the heat simmering in his eyes, ‘Oh, but you should be proud. Proud to serve such a powerful man as myself,’ he trails a finger down your cleavage, tracing the curve of your breasts, ‘As for your promotion...let's just say you'll have access to more...exclusive areas of the company. Areas where only a select few are privy to the inner workings,’ his hand slips beneath your bra, palming your breast with a firm grasp, ‘You'll be handling sensitive information, making crucial decisions that could shape the future of our empire,’ he

leans in, his lips brushing against your neck as he whispers, ‘And of course, there will be certain...personal duties required of you. Ones that demand your complete devotion and obedience.’

You gasp loudly and arch your back against his touch, ‘you mean the other executives? I heard a rumour that you’re all psychopaths.’

Mikey laughs, a deep, mocking sound that echoes through the room, ‘Psychopaths, hmm? Well, perhaps that's a bit dramatic. We're simply men who understand the true nature of power and aren't afraid to wield it.’ His hand slides down your stomach, fingers dipping below the waistband of your skirt.

‘And yes, you'll be working closely with them. They'll expect the same level of...dedication from you that I do,’ he grinds his hips against yours, the evidence of his arousal pressing insistently against your thigh, ‘But don't worry, I'll be keeping a close eye on you. Ensuring you meet their expectations.’

He pulls back slightly, his gaze intense as he studies your reaction, ‘Now, are you prepared to take on these new responsibilities? To become an integral part of our inner circle?’

Through the warm haze enveloping your body you manage to get out one last bit of attitude, ‘Do I get a pay rise, sir?’

Mikey grunts, amused by your boldness, ‘A pay rise? My, my, aren't you a greedy little thing?’ he Slides his hand further down, cupping your mound possessively, ‘But I suppose if you perform well enough, I might consider sweetening the deal.’

He presses two fingers against your clothed sex, rubbing slow circles that send jolts of pleasure through your core, ‘However, I expect complete discretion. No one can know about our arrangement. Your loyalty belongs solely to me.’

You hum, ‘So will I be servicing the other executives sexually or simply running tasks?’

He smirks, his fingers still teasing your sensitive flesh, ‘Ah, the naivety is endearing. In this world, lines blur easily. Your services will be demanded by all of us, in whatever form we desire,’ he leans in, his breath hot against your ear as he murmurs, ‘You'll learn to adapt, to satisfy each of our unique tastes.’

He pinches your clit gently, sending a spark of pleasure-pain through you, ‘As for me...well, let's just say I have very specific needs. Needs that require constant attention and gratification,’ he grinds his erection against you harder, the friction sending a wave of heat through your veins, ‘You'll be servicing me frequently. Very frequently indeed.’

You nod feverishly, ‘I look forward to finding out your specific needs sir.’

Mijey hums, pleased by your eagerness, ‘Good girl. I have a feeling you'll fit in nicely here,’ he slips a finger beneath the elastic of your panties, delving into your slick folds, ‘Now, let's explore these needs of mine, shall we?’

He thumbs your clit in time with the thrust of his finger, pumping in and out of your hole, ‘I want you dripping wet for me at all times. Ready to fulfil my desires on a moment's notice,’ he curves his finger to stroke your G-spot, applying just the right pressure to make your toes curl, ‘Can you handle that? Being my plaything, always available to sate my cravings?’

You grip the front of his shirt and throw your head back panting, ‘I can try.’

He groans approvingly, his need spiking at your eager response, ‘That's it. Show me how much you want this,’ his fingers move faster, plunging deeper as he pinches your clit harder, drawing a sharp cry from your lips.

‘I'll teach you to crave my touch as much as I crave yours. To beg for it, plead for release,’ he captures your mouth in a brutal kiss, tongue invading, claiming every inch as his own, ‘You'll be addicted to me, body and soul. And I'll make sure you never forget whose cock is filling you, whose fingers are stroking your pussy.’

He breaks the kiss, panting heavily as he stares down at you with a predatory gleam in his eyes, ‘Now, let's see how quickly you can learn to please me. Strip for me, Slowly and get on your knees.’

You get off the desk, your legs feeling like jelly, but do as you’re told, removing each item one by one until you’re down to your birthday suit. This whole situation wasn’t normal, but there was no denying how much you were enjoying this. You get down on your knees and chew your lip keeping your head bowed, ‘I’ve never actually sucked anyone off before sir, I’ve only seen it in videos.’

He eyes you hungrily, drinking in the sight of your naked form, ‘Don't worry about doing it 'right' there's no script, no rules here. Just follow your instincts, and surrender to the moment.’

He steps closer, towering over you as you kneel on the plush carpet, ‘Look at me, keep eye contact,’ he reaches down, wrapping a hand around your throat in a gentle yet assertive grip, ‘Breathe for me. In and out, nice and slow.’

He leans in, his breath ghosting over your cheek as he whispers, ‘You're so fucking beautiful like this. A pretty little toy, just begging to be played with,’ he squeezes your throat slightly, watching your pulse flutter, ‘Now, open your mouth. Wide.’

He guides your trembling hands to his belt buckle, helping you undo it with impatient fingers. Steps out of his pants, freeing his massive erection. It throbs in the cool air, already leaking precum, ‘See what you do to me? How hard you make me?’ he wraps a hand around the base, giving himself a few strokes.

‘Now, put that pretty mouth to use. Suck my cock like you mean it,’ he tangles his fingers in your hair, guiding you closer until the head of his dick brushes your lips, ‘Take it deep, choke on it if you can.’

You lick the precum before taking him slowly into your mouth, not used to being filled this way.

Mikey groans as your warm mouth envelops him, head falling back in bliss, ‘Fuck, that's it. Just like that,’ his hands tighten in your hair, holding you steady as he starts to rock his hips, pushing himself deeper into your throat.

‘Take it all, baby. Relax your jaw, breathe through your nose,’ he pumps faster, relishing the way your throat constricts around him, ‘Goddamn, you were made for this. Made to choke on my cock.’

He looks down at you, eyes dark with lust, ‘You love this, don't you? Love being used, degraded, treated like a set of holes for me to fuck,’ he yanks your head back suddenly, saliva connecting your lips to his dick.

‘Tell me how much you love it, Beg for more,’ he demands.

You look up with tear-filled eyes, ‘I love it…I need more…please use me…I’m nothing without you using me.’

He smirks wickedly, loving the desperation in your voice, ‘Nothing, huh? Just a set of holes for me to ruin?’ He shoves his cock back into your mouth, hitting the back of your throat harshly, ‘Then take it, whore. Take every fucking inch.’

He holds your head still, slamming into you relentlessly, grunting with each thrust, ‘Such a good little cocksucker. Milk me dry with that slutty mouth,’ he angles his hips, grinding against your face, smearing precum across your cheeks.

‘Fuck, I'm getting close. Swallow it all, every last drop,’ he ruts into you wildly, chasing his impending orgasm, ‘Here it comes, bitch. Fuck!’ he bursts down your throat with a guttural moan, flooding your mouth with his seed.

You try your best to swallow every last drop and continue sucking slower waiting for him to come down from his high. He exhales shakily, chest heaving, ‘now you clean me up,’ he gently pulls out of your mouth, letting his cock slip from between your lips with a pop, ‘use your tongue and lap up every drop you left.’

He watches intently as you obediently start cleaning him, a satisfied smirk playing on his lips, ‘That's it, be thorough. Make sure you get every bit of my essence off your face.’

He steps back, allowing you to stand and finish the task.

‘Once you're done, get on the desk. Spread your legs for me and present yourself like a good little slut,’ he walks away and around his desk to take his seat, leaning back in his chair as he waits for you to comply.

You quickly clean yourself and get up with shaky legs, using the desk behind you as some support. Of course, Mikey wasn’t going to help you. You walk around the desk and manage to sit on it directly in front of where he sits, you spread your thighs and use your hands to support yourself. Mikey rolls the chair forward and runs a finger down your inner thigh causing your legs to tremble, ‘beautiful’ he murmurs.

He dips his head, dragging his tongue across your slit teasingly, ‘I’m going to feast on your sweet cunt.’

He laps at your folds, circling your clit with the tip of his tongue, ‘Let me hear those pretty moans as I devour your pussy,’ he seals his lips around your clit, sucking hard as he slides two fingers inside you.

‘Ahhh... oh god... yessss... please don't stop…’ you arch your back, pushing your hips against his face as he eats you out intensely. Your hand's fist in the desk as pleasure crashes through you, ‘More...Mikey...please...I'm so close…’

He growls against your slick flesh, the vibrations sending shockwaves through you, ‘Come for me then. Drench me in your juices as I finger-fuck this greedy cunt,’ he pumps faster, curling his digits to hit your G-spot with ruthless precision.

‘Shout louder, let everyone hear what a shameless slut you are for me,’ he scissors his fingers, stretching you deliciously as he continues his assault on your sensitive bud, ‘Come on, give it to me. Scream my name as you fall apart,’ He nips at your clit sharply, sending you hurtling towards oblivion, ‘Now, Cum NOW!’

‘AHHHH!!! MIKEY!!!! OH MY GODDD!!!’ Your entire body convulses as an earth-shattering orgasm rips through you. Your pussy clamps down on his fingers as you squirt all over his hand and face. You collapse onto the desk, gasping for air, your skin flushed and tingling all over, ‘Holy shit... that was... incredible…’

He licks his lips, savouring your sweet nectar as he slowly withdraws his fingers from your fluttering hole. Sits back on his heels, admiring the sight of you sprawled out before him, thoroughly debauched, ‘Look at you, utterly spent and satisfied. All because of me.’

He wipes his face with a handkerchief before tucking it away, ‘But we're far from finished, pet,’ he grabs your ankles, pulling you roughly to the edge of the desk, ‘I'm nowhere near done with you yet,’ he lines himself up with your entrance, rubbing the head of his cock through your soaked folds, ‘Ready for round two?’ he asks with a wicked grin, knowing full well you have no choice but to submit to him again and again.

‘Yes... I'm ready... I'll always be ready for you…’ You pant out, your body already aching for more despite the mind-blowing orgasm you just had. You spread your legs wider in an invitation, completely surrendered to your will, ‘Take me, Mikey. Ruin me’

Mikey smirks triumphantly at your complete submission, revelling in the power he holds over you, ‘Good girl,’ he grips your hips bruisingly tight, positioning himself at your entrance, ‘Brace yourself, I'm going to fuck you so hard, you won't be able to walk straight for days,’ he slams into you with one brutal thrust, burying himself to the hilt in your tight heat.

‘FUCK! Still so fucking tight after all that,’ he growls and sets a punishing pace, pounding into you mercilessly, ‘This is what you wanted, isn't it? To be claimed, owned, used for my pleasure alone,’ he reaches down, rubbing your clit roughly as he rails you, ‘Scream for me, let me hear that pretty voice as I split you open on my cock.’

‘AHHHHH!!! YES!!! JUST LIKE THAT!!! HARDER!!! USE ME MORE!!!’ you scream out in ecstasy, your nails raking down his back as he ravages you. Your legs wrap tightly around his waist, urging him deeper as your pussy clenches greedily around his pistoning shaft, ‘OH GOD...YOU FEEL SO GOOD...I LOVE YOUR COCK...I'M YOURS...PLEASE DON'T STOP!!!’ You babble incoherently, lost in a haze of pleasure and pain, completely consumed by the primal act of being taken so forcefully.

Mikey groans loudly, feeling your walls flutter and spasm around him as he drives into you with reckless abandon, ‘That's right, take it all, you filthy whore,’ he crashes his mouth against yours in a rough, dominating kiss, swallowing your screams as he fucks you senseless.

‘You were made for this, for being used as my cum dump,’ he breaks the kiss, panting heavily as he gazes down at you with a sadistic gleam in his eyes, ‘I can feel you getting closer, can't you? Your cunt is squeezing me so tightly, begging for release.’

He slaps your ass hard, leaving a bright red mark, ‘Well, beggars can't be choosers. When I fill you up with my seed, you'd better milk it for all it's worth. Every last drop belongs inside this greedy little hole.’

‘YES!! FILL ME UP!! I WANT IT ALL!!!’ you wail, your body shaking uncontrollably as another massive orgasm builds within you. The intensity of his words, the sting of his slap, the relentless pounding of his cock - it all pushes you over the edge, ‘OH FUCK... I'M COMING AGAIN!!! MIKEY!!!’ your pussy spasms wildly, gushing around him as you come undone once more under his brutal domination.

Mikey snarls in satisfaction as he feels your climax crash over you, milking his cock for every ounce of pleasure, ‘That's it, squeeze me dry, you insatiable slut,’ he pounds into you furiously, chasing his own release as your velvety walls rip through him.

‘Fuck, here it comes…’ With a guttural roar, he slams deep one final time, erupting inside you in a torrent of hot, thick cum, ‘TAKE IT! EVERY LAST DROP!’ he grinds against you, ensuring his seed coats your insides thoroughly as he rides out the waves of his orgasm.

‘Thank god for birth control. If this is what you're like, what about the other executives?’ You somehow manage to speak, panting and voice hoarse.

Mikey smirks, a dark glint in his eyes, ‘Oh, they're nothing compared to me. They might think they're powerful and in charge, but they don't have the same...drive. The hunger. The thirst for absolute control. They can never match up to what I am capable of. And you, my dear, are going to see that firsthand.’

You shudder slightly, both aroused and unnerved by the intensity of his words. There's something deeply unsettling about the way he talks, like there's a darkness lurking beneath the surface that could consume you entirely if you let it. Yet, the thought only makes you wetter, your core throbbing with need.

‘What do you mean? What exactly are you capable of?’ you ask breathlessly, your heart racing as you await his response, simultaneously dreading and craving whatever twisted desires he may unleash upon you.

Mikey leans in close, his breath hot against your ear as he whispers, ‘I'm capable of things that would make even the most depraved minds recoil in horror. Dark pleasures, forbidden desires, the kind that can only be satiated by those who dare to embrace their inner demons.’

He trails a finger down your cheek, his touch chilling despite the heat of our bodies entwined, ‘With you, I can indulge in these vices without restraint, safe in the knowledge that you crave them just as much as I do. Together, we'll descend into the depths of depravity, lost in a world where pleasure and pain are indistinguishable.’

He pulls back, his gaze piercing and intense, ‘So, are you prepared to surrender yourself fully to me, to become my willing plaything in the pursuit of these twisted delights?’

‘As long as I still have a job, I think I can adjust,’ you answer, not sure if it was out of honesty, fear or lust.

Mikey chuckles darkly, a sound that sends shivers down your spine, ‘Oh, you'll have a job alright. One that suits your...unique talents. And if you ever think of leaving, well, let's just say I have ways of making sure you stay put.’

He leans in, capturing your lips in a searing kiss that leaves you breathless, ‘Now, let's get cleaned up and ready for round three, shall we? I've got a few toys I want to introduce you to,’ he winks, a sinister promise in his eyes.

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abbyandersnsgf · 3 months ago

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ivy towers | abby anderson

— still surprised by the acceptance letter months prior, you begin to navigate life within the ivy league. between socializing, attending lectures, studying, and the otherwise bustling life of your college town, you find yourself caught off guard by the increasingly persistent thoughts that have clouded your mind ever since you met abby anderson

tags: strangers to lovers, enemies to lovers, slow burn, college/university au, competitive flirting, banter, mutual secret pining, reader & abby are college age (18-20), reader afab, eventual smut, sexual themes implied. mentions of drugs, alcohol, and mental health matters

💌 there are no reader specific descriptions/mentions of a particular skin colour, hair colour, texture or length. any mention of skin/hair/nails etc, are vague, and non descriptive as i encourage the reader to imagine them as they see fit. this is a safe and inclusive space. if you feel something is not poc friendly, please reach out and correct me. 💌

Large, dark, aged wood doors squeak as you push your way into the lecture hall. The stadium seating was an overwhelming site, mixed with the adrenaline that was consuming your body and mind, causing physical anxiety like you'd never felt before. It was a site. The large chalkboard that stretched across the back wall, the stair-step tiered seats, and the all-consuming quiet emptiness that was held inside. The building had to be at least 200 years old you thought, as you made your way to the second to bottom row of seats, opting for the middle of the three large sections. The classroom filled with the warm smell of old pine wood, out-of-date textbooks, and classic literature that made you feel so at home and fluttery you almost felt nauseous.

A few months prior, you were sat back at home, decision letter in hand, feeling physically ill at the thought of being rejected from the school you had worked exhaustingly towards for the better part of five years. Trembling hands worked at the envelope seal as you laboriously tear the thing apart, not being able to wait another second. As you read the words "Congratulations!" you still remember audibly yelling, then collapsing, filled with pure joy, relief, excitement, and fear, you couldn't bear the task of remaining upright.

Thinking back to now, your eyes welled with tears at how proud you were of your hardworking attitude, and how far it'd brought you.

The groan of tired door hinges interrupting your thoughts, and composing yourself, you turn expecting to see a mature, middle-aged man but instead saunters a cocky, muscular blonde. She looks around your age. Her trousers and black t-shirt fitting so snugly around her muscular physique you can't help but gawk. Her long, blonde hair is messily braided down her back, with thin glasses adoring her nose. Freckles dance across the same area, stretching down and around her forehead and cheeks. Noticing the presence of someone typically not there, she glances up at you, a surprised look on her face.

You knew why, because it was the same reason you had the same expression, why was there someone else also here an entire 45 minutes early? Dread filling your body as you realize that this is probably the normal for Ivy League students, and an overachieving attitude was simply what was expected here.

"Why are you here so early?" the girl asks in a voice that's almost too feminine and soft to belong to such a intimidating presence.

Caught off guard you respond, "I could ask you the same thing, class doesn't start until 8."

The blonde takes a seat in the row in beside you, just across the isle. Both occupying the outer seats, you were maybe less than 2ft apart.

Noticing your bag, notebooks, colorful pens and highlighters, and textbook (Which she totally didn't forget to get), she clears her throat and responds, "I like getting here early. Its stressful like–rushing in and being late y'know?" nodding along, replying "Yeah, me too."

You feel her eyes burning into you, like she's trying to melt you, or set you on fire. Either way, its working. You feel flustered, and nervous. She's easily one of the most beautiful women you've ever seen, and she's sitting here, looking at you like you're some sort of Sunday crossword clue she's spent an hour trying to figure out.

"M'names Abby, this your second year?"

Smiling and introducing yourself you respond, "No, first."

Her eyebrows shoot up, "Wait, so how are you in a 200 level?" she asks, a hint of shock, possibly disbelief, in her tone. "I took the intro course in high school. Like a duel credit program thing–". Your voice cutoff by the sound of shuffling voices filing into the lecture hall, making small-talk-quiet conversation impossible. Turning in your seat, you couldn't help but feel an overwhelming nervous presence around her. Was it jealousy? Attraction? Competitiveness? You tried to place where you'd felt this emotion before, but it was coming up blank. You felt a fire ignite inside of you every time you felt her looking at you.

Over the next few weeks, the tension had grown into a living, breathing, palpable competitiveness that was noticed among even the most clueless of students. It began the first week, when you noticed her only raising your hand if you would, glancing to see if you'd noticed. At first you thought maybe she was flirting, maybe she's just teasing you–but after two more classes, the whole thing grew old and irritating, causing you to audibly huff in frustration once, eliciting a smirk and stifled laugh from the blonde sitting across from you. Ever since that first day, she's always shown up before you. Always had an answer, always knew what to say. Always had a comment, a point, a argument to make off of your answers. “Yeah, to piggyback off that–" she would start, immediately following it with a critique or insight that infuriatingly made sense. Every discussion board was met with "Constructive Criticism" as she put it, making sure to patronize you as much as the possibly could. She knew exactly how to get under your skin, to get you all worked up, and she seemed to almost...enjoy the fight. Like there's no other place she'd rather be than arguing with you during a lecture.

Legs burning and anxiety coursing through you, you rushed past the green lawns, large oaks, and students fraternizing within as ice coffee rattled around the plastic cup with every step. It was 7:30–following a late night study session which resulted in falling asleep without setting an alarm, at your desk, overtop an ethics textbook.

You fumble with your hands full, trying to open the heavy classroom door, as you see a large hand appear on the handle, pulling it open, and another large, warm hand on your lower back. Chills electrify you, the hair on the back of your neck standing straight up as you feel a warm familiar voice whisper into you, "Running late, are we? Thought I would miss having to see you get all, hot and bothered" Your voice caught inside your throat, the blonde smirks and lowers her hand towards your hips, spinning you to face her, your noses almost touching, "Y'know, I think I'd miss seeing how worked up I get you". Her voice low, sultry, and soft, she sounds seductive and you can feel yourself becoming red, the thought of Abby Anderson actually getting you worked up being enough to cause a damp spot to form in-between your legs. You decided to play along though, you know, for the hell of it. “Oh, you would like that, wouldn’t you?” you said just as sweetly, head cocked to the side, staring back into her eyes, now practically boring holes into your own. A pink tint arising on her cheeks as she shook her head and laughed. “Okay, you got me. First time for everything I guess, especially for you.” She slid between yourself and the door, your back pressed up against the back of the harsh oak, leaving you scoffing and rather flustered, again, the effect she had infuriatingly effective.

A/N: hiiiiiiii i wrote this months ago in my drafts and decided to post it bc why not!!! lmk if u want a part two🫶🏻🫶🏻🫶🏻

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mychlapci · 5 months ago

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Devastator needs to fuck Prowl too After the Constructicons get Scrapper back, Devastator would be torn between having all of their original components together, as well as wanting to pull their new component back in, somehow. Coupled with the Structies' own lust, this winds up translating into a collective desire to fuck that slutty policebot.

So the next time they meet on the battlefield, instead of devastating like they should, Devastator would snatch up Prowl and run off with him, spending the rest of the battle undisturbed as they test out various ways to "combine" with their quarry. Using the memories the gestalt have of their former head component, they tease the tiny mech in all of the well known erogenous zones that their fingertips could reach, drawing out whines and moans until his panels snap open on instinct. Revealing a moist little valve and sweet little spike, adorned with blinking biolights still coloured green from their past linkage. A sight that deeply pleases the gestalt.

They first try fingering Prowl open with their pinky, licking the little mech all over with that massive glossa, slathering oral lubricant all over those sensitive doorwings to make him relax. When he's loose enough, Devastator would try to fingerfuck Prowl with a different digit, only to find that they're all too big to fit inside effectively, pussy so tight that they can't even really move inside. They then settle on using their pinky to pound that quivering valve until Prowl squirts helplessly in their grip.

Intrigued by the trail of fluids dripping from that twitching cunt, Devastator retracts their digit and tastes it, rediscovering the wonder that is Prowl's delicious pussy juice. Which is how Prowl finds himself impaled on that girthy, flexible glossa next, licking and filling him up until he's stuffed to the brim with that squishy appendage.

The way it moves, and the fact that the tongue is so much more flexible compared to the digit making the experience a hundredfold more intense than the fingerfucking. Prowl cums again, spilling uncontrollably into Devastator's mouth as the big guy holds him above their intake, lips sealed around that snatched waist to grip the squirming bot. Rounded teeth gently but firmly restraining those kicking legs as they lap at that puffy valve.

When Prowl goes limp again, Devastator lifts him to eye level, noting those curious white streaks leaking from beneath that plump bumper. They lick a large stripe across Prowl's entire front, and starts teasing his chest for more when they register the heavenly milk flavour that their components appear so very fond of in their memories. But this time, Prowl resists.

He might've not been able to prevent his interface panels from popping open, but his chest panels are nowhere near as sensitive as those were. He remains stoutly resolute, until Devastator changes strategies after they drew on another memory from their components. They turned the little bot around to tease at his doorwings with the tip of their glossa again. This not only angled Prowl's line of sight away from Devastator, but also rendered his motion sensors useless with the physical distractions, preventing the tactician from figuring out the big bot's next move.

As Prowl is being bombarded by the pleasurable touches, Devastator is actually bringing him closer to their own chest panel, which has parted and has data cables snaking out. Reaching for Prowl's closed ports. If the Constructicons can't combine with their policebot in frame, they will so in code. They all remember how much that neat little mind enjoyed being linked to their mental presences, and clearly, so does Devastator. In fact, Devastator very clearly remembers just how to make that thirsty little dataslut submit to their wills.

When each cable is in place, simultaneously, their pronged ends wedge themselves into those coverings, prying open each jack in one go. Shocked by the sudden burst of pain, Prowl has no time to react when each cable plugged themselves into his sparking connectors, charge flowing and overwhelming him in an instant from the sheer potential difference between their frames.

Old, dormant protocols slipping back into place. Seldom trodden but intact neural circuits flaring to life. Psychologically conditioned stupor settling over conscious thought like a fog. Weakened and exhausted from the orgasms, Prowl lets himself slip back into that old, nearly forgotten haze of being a part of Devastator again. When his struggles stop altogether, Prowl gets turned around again.

Pleased that their wayward component was no longer resisting, Devastator pinged the little mech's systems to open his chest plates, revealing a pair of leaky refineries at last. Savouring their victory, Devastator took their time licking over Prowl's front, reacquainting themelves with the flavour of that wonderful milk, transfluid and lubricants, all freely flowing from the cascade of continuous orgasms wrecking his mind and body. There's just too much charge being pumped into that little Praxian frame through their hardline.

It's as if he's been reduced to a puppet. A little pleasure doll for the combiner to lick and suck at. Prowl knows that he should be fighting it, but it feels too damn good to have those hanging threads soothed at last. The bond may have been shorn off from his end, but something inside him still craves this. It feels right to be connected to his gestalt again. It feels incredible to let himself be swept away into that mind meld, and lose his sense of self once more.

His choked and aborted gasps morph into a prolonged whine when those massive, plush lips seal over both of his tits at once, sucking hard and drinking in their fill of his creamy milk. Though Devastator pulls back when they note that Prowl's fuel levels had dropped to 40%. Which wouldn't do, of course. They scour the gestalt's memories again, and recall a visage of the little tactician on his knees, begging to be filled with transfluid.

The data is coming so much faster now that they're connected to that overpowered processor. As they lower the little bot's panting mouth onto the slit of their spike head, absentmindedly stroking their pressurized spike, they ponder on what to do with this newfound information. Seven minds linked in one, Devastator realises that they've never been this cognizant before. That's when it clicks. This is what they've been missing the whole time: a dedicated processor component.

They groan as their first, light overload washes through their core, cock spurting glugs of transfluid into that waiting mouth, the veritable excess running down the sides of that black and white frame. Through their linked processor, they command Prowl to swallow his sustenance like a good bot. Unable to disobey, Prowl swallows, feeling the intense charge of the rich, energised nanites sweeping through him. His fuel gauge climbs a little. Unacceptable. Clearly more is needed.

They lean back against the angular incline of the cliffside, spreading their legs wider and braced their left arm against a knee, continuing to hold their precious seventh to the tip of their pulsing cock. Their little dataslut is still far from full. Continuing to pump their spike as they ponder the best way to reintegrate the policebot to their fold. Devastator already has a head, but surely there is space for another inside them? Perhaps- he could be their backup processor. Like how Prowl has that experimental battle computer integrated into his cerebral hardware.

As Devastator carefully reoriented their internals and began planning out in detail how they would reclaim their perfect dataslut, Prowl is forced to continuously drink in mouthful after mouthful of transfluid. Very quickly rendering him completely cum drunk, and none the wiser to the big mech's increasingly intelligent plotting.

Finally deemed sufficiently fueled, Devastator attaches more cables into the remaining unoccupied jacks, plugging up the bloated Praxian in full this time. No longer aware of what's happening around him, Prowl's head lolls a little to the side before an internal servo gripped his temples and straightens it. He's inside Devastator's chest cavity now, right below the combiner's own massive pouches, where a mech's spark would've been located. More servos clamp onto his limbs, as lines of various widths snake around him, plunging into his twitching pussy, aft pipe and spike duct. Another line with a nozzle, one that's directly connected to both his host's refineries and transfluid stores, inserts itself into his intakes.

Prowl numbly notes the code edits flowing through his firewalls, but he lets them pass unbidden when jolts of pure pleasure washed over him, making his vision swim. The evolved gestalt programming is overwriting his silly little leaky and melting processor, and there's nothing he could do about it. All of that bandwidth siphoned away as Devastator lovingly caressed their beautiful, cum drenched brain component, so very clever, yet so dumb and mindless now. The chest plates close around him, leaving Prowl to marinate in the dark as the gestalt protocols slowly suppress any pesky contrary thoughts in his empty little head.

Their pretty tactician would be kept safe inside them until Devastator returns to base and manages to convince Shockwave to link their sparks together again. With their newfound intellectual prowess in tow, Devastator would have no trouble making their case before the scientist for sure. When Devastator finally disassembles, the Constructicons' wayward seventh would be home at last, whether he likes it or not.-🔌

hrghh no notes, I just think everyone needs to see this honestly. We need more Devastator action.

#valveplug #texty #dubcon #plug'n'play #dataslut prowl #i think it counts #size kink #scheduled

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slytherinshua · 5 months ago

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MY HEART RETURNS

summary. your love is pursuing his dreams as a violinmaker in italy, leaving you to wait for his return. genre. slight angst. fluff. based on whisper of the heart. warnings. some crying. reader feels lost and alone and like she's not good enough :( not proofread. pairing. zhanghao x fem!reader. wc. 1.3k. request. no. a/n. tiánxīn = sweetheart btw. ofc hao is already perfect for the role of seiji cause he plays violin (also he looks like seiji fight me). for all the other writers out there (even tho i don't ever plan to get properly published) we all relate to shizuku so much :') her struggles are so relatable and i just love whisper of the heart so much i think its such a beautiful and underrated ghibli movie. divider by @/aquazero.

The night air nipped at your cheeks as thoughts swirled in your head. Hundreds of worries, feelings, and uncertainties followed you wherever you went, and all you could wish was to be back in high school when everything felt a bit easier. Back with Hao to occupy all your thoughts and in turn take your mind off of everything.

Sometimes you wondered if waiting was really worth it. You were doing your best to pursue your dreams, do well in your final year of university, and throw yourself and your work at different publishers, hoping that one liked you enough to give you a chance. But you felt like a constant failure in comparison to your boyfriend. You’d always thought opportunities were more beneficial than school. Hao only seemed to prove that to you.

He was working in Italy, getting valuable skills from the masters. You were still stuck in your hometown, going to the same university everyone else in your family had gone to, trapped in the same system. You wanted to get out, prove yourself, do something meaningful with your life. But did you even have the talent to? Were you even worth it?

On nights where your thoughts just wouldn’t leave you alone, you grabbed a handful of Hao’s letters and walked up the hill back to the spot where you used to watch the sunrise with him. You missed him more than anything. Without his presence, you felt lost. There was no one to ground you, no one to reassure you, no one to believe in your flimsy dreams.

You hadn’t received a new letter in a while, and you were starting to wonder if it was a post issue, or if Hao was too busy to write. You hoped you would get one soon. It was the start of Winter already, and a breeze blew past you, causing a chill to run up your spine. You hugged Hao’s old jacket closer on your body. It must be even colder in Italy…

You slid one of the old letters out from its envelope. You were always careful to keep everything intact. From the colourful wax seals to the elegantly written address, to the coarse texture of the fancy paper, everything about it was precious to you. Hao was always meticulous, and his presence could be felt from every detail of the card.

Tiánxīn, how are things back at home? Lonely.

How is your writing? Did you finish the last 3 chapters you were struggling to write? I finished the final draft last Saturday. Are you proud of me?

I’m doing well here, although I never stop missing you. At least one feeling is mutual.

It’s the beginning of Spring as I write this, and the flowers are starting to bloom. Every pink bud reminds me of you. How are you always so romantic, Zhang Hao?

I taught some kids how to hold a violin properly the other day— one of them almost dropped it. I swear my life flashed before my eyes. If they had broken it, I could’ve gotten kicked out. They don’t know that they’re handling a piece of wood worth thousands of dollars. As much as it scared me in the moment, spending time with the kids cheered me up. Childhood innocence is an endearing thing, don’t you think? It is. Is it bad that I wished you had gotten kicked out just so I could see you sooner? I want you to tell me everything about Italy with your own voice.

I’m starting to find beauty in things that used to annoy me. It’s a strange feeling, but I think I could get used to it. The flowers used to only make me sneeze, but now they’re a gentle reminder of who I’m living every day for. Children used to get on my nerves, but now I can only think of your baby pictures. I keep working hard every day hoping that I’ll get a break to come visit soon. I’ve been saving up for tickets. Hopefully before Winter, I’ll be back in your arms. It’s Winter now… I miss your arms around me.

Ever yours,

Hao

You could only sigh and blink back the tears that had formed on your waterline. Why did he make you miss him so much? You sniffed, from the emotions and from the cold. It was getting even later in the night, and while you didn’t want to leave your special spot, you also needed sleep.

When you got back to your cheap apartment, you sprayed some of Hao’s perfume on your pillow and changed into pyjamas. It was funny how much time went into hunting for the exact fragrance he wore; but you had been thankful for it every single day since you bought it. Any way you could to bring traces of him back to your home was worth it. You fell asleep hugging the pillow tightly and hoping that he would grace you in your dreams.

A soft puff of air hit your nose making you scrunch it up. It woke you out of your slumber, but not enough to open your eyes yet. You were in a confused bleary state trying to figure out where it came from. You definitely didn’t leave the fan on in the middle of Winter, so why…?

“Tiánxīn, wake up.”

You blinked your eyes open slowly, furrowing your eyebrows as the view came into focus. Light from the morning sun shone through the window, cascading down until it hit the side of a face. Hao’s face.

“Am I still dreaming?” You whispered. A lump formed in your throat at the thought that you were— you must be. How could he be right in front of you? He was still far away in Italy.

He shook his head, a smile splayed on his lips. He moved closer, his weight dipping down on the bed. You could only stare, memorising everything about him. His eyelashes fluttered as his gaze dropped to your hand and he reached to hold it. His hands were warm and the skin of his palm was soft, although his fingertips were roughened by calluses after years of playing strings. He cupped your cheek with his other hand, brushing his thumb against your skin.

“I missed you. I’m sorry it took so long for me to come visit.” He frowned slightly as he saw tears start to build in your eyes. You squeezed his hand, as if still deciphering whether he was actually real. It had truly been years since he had first gone for his apprenticeship and then got accepted full time to make violins and teach. Although you had communicated through letters, it could never compare to being with him like this.

“It’s okay.” You tried to steady your voice, force the lump in your throat down, blink back the tears. But you couldn’t with him right there.

“Don’t cry.” He wiped your tears carefully, his touch soft as always.

“Kiss me. Please?”

And he obliged. He would always do anything within his power to see you happy. If you told him one day to fly to the moon and bring you back a piece of it, he was sure he would find a way, just to see you smile. The feeling of kissing him again was indescribable. You’d forgotten how it felt to be kissed by his soft lips, how they melded with yours like a dream. As if you two were meant to be.

You knew you always were. Your love story, although it sometimes felt tragic, was like something out of a fairytale. You would never forget the lengths Hao went just to get your attention. How ambitious, determined, and caring he was. He was your constant motivation to keep striving to be better.

It was hard to live for your dream while being so far apart from him. Part of you knew that he would have to go back. Maybe in a month, maybe in only a week. Maybe sooner than that. Your heart would break once again saying goodbye to him.

But, for now, as he kissed you in the morning sunlight on your bed, you felt your heart healing from his touch. The long years away from him were a small price to pay for moments as precious as these.

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@kangtaehyunzzz,, @nonononranghaee,, @forever-atiny,, @nicholasluvbot,, @stantxtforabetterlife

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gumbootillustrations · 6 months ago

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UGH I FUCKING FINALLY FINISHED THIS

so yeah, have the divine warriors of the second war of the magi!!

more deets n closeups under the cut :3

aph!! i like to think that although the incarnations of the divine warriors r generally pretty similar, they do have some minor differences. for example, whereas the matron of the first war of the magi (irene) had one of the sets of wings on her head covering her eyes, the matron of the second war (mcd!aphmau) has both of them held back. this is bc whereas irene had lost her humanity (and therefore the ability to connect with mortals), aph hasn't - and, therefore, her eyes are open to the struggles of humanity. additionally, i took a lot of inspiration from honkai impact 3rd for these designs - in aph's case, i was inspired by elysia's herrscher of human: ego battlesuit and how it looks like a wedding dress (which a lot of folks have interpreted as an expression of her love for humanity, which is smth i want to convey w aph).

i think my favourite part of aaron's destroyer form is his seal (the thingy behind his head like a halo). i wanted to rlly play into the whole destroyer/devourer aspect of his abilities and domains, and i thought a black hole would fit perfectly! it also sort of (unintentionally) plays into how i see the dynamic between the matron and the destroyer and how they're both mirrors of each other; whereas the destroyer, well, destroys (and his black hole devours everything in sight), the matron creates and nurtures (seen in how aph's seal is almost like a white hole). i also wanted his armour to look a lot like the armour that shadow knights wear, albeit without all the spikes and spines and whatnot given that he isn't a shadow knight himself (shad's destroyer form from the first war probably looks a lot more similar to traditional shadow knight armour).

i'm lowkey suuper proud of how travis's keeper form turned out (even if i had to go back right at the end n fix it bc i forgot to add his tail 😭). i wanted this form to sort of be a mix between a high mage and a rogue: whereas the keeper embodies knowledge and magick, travis himself is a prankster who relies on cunning and trickery to gain the upper hand on his opponents. as a result, he's the only one who doesn't automatically manifest a weapon when he shifts into this form - instead, i feel like he chooses to rely more on magicks and witchcraft during combat.

katelyn's design was lowkey the hardest to pin down. originally, i wanted to go for something that was suuuper inspired by roman armour and had a copper and teal/turquoise colour scheme, but it wound up feeling too magical girl-ish and i scrapped it. i've retained the roman inspirations, but i headcanon that her flames are so hot they burn blue, so i settled on a blue-and-white colour scheme w some purple elements. i think my favourite part is her gauntlets! i feel like she uses them as an extension of herself/another pair of hands to punch with. the blue elements also lean into menphia's association with the moon - in ashes, ashes, tu'la is based on the roman empire and, as a result, is where werewolves originate from, and with werewolves having such close ties to the moon.... yeah. i'll probably do a post on tu'la later on at some point.

my blorbo

garroth's design is probably the one that's changed the least, but i'll still need to update his ref sheet anyway. i don't know if i conveyed it very well but the sort-of wing-things on his back are slabs of earth that can be shaped into a shield - originally i had him holding a shield but i wanted him to look a bit more divine warrior-ish so i retooled his design.

the boy! i was tossing up between having vylad or dante fill the role of the wanderer, but i settled on dante as i feel like vylad fits better as a sort of weird guide sort of figure within the narrative. plus, i have a real soft spot for dante and wanted him to remain in the limelight a little bit - i love his dynamic with garroth and laurance and i wanted to explore that further. i sort of wanted to play into his whole red-and-blue colour scheme that we see in canon diaries, but bc kul'zak is a nature deity (specifically of the wilderness), i wanted to incorporate some greenery into his design. i hope i've done an okay-ish job here - overall i'm pretty happy tho, but i can't promise that there won't be any tweaks in the future.

this is a redhead laurance propaganda spreading blog and i Refuse to apologise for it. i'd like to think that laurance's original colour scheme is similar to his justiciar form - lots of beautiful reds and golds and oranges to match the flames of his father's forge - but after he comes back from the nether with a Severe fear of fire he switches to the greens and browns that he's known for in canon. eventually he slowly begins to reclaim his fire and returns to the golds and oranges that he's introduced with (haha colour symbolism go brrrrrr).

but yeah. the special interest is special interesting. let me know if u have any questions!

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hecallsmegirlieee · 10 months ago

Text

it’s still early in this world, do you hear me ?

m.list ◦ askbox

synopsis: in which timothée wants you to stay

*18+, minors DNI, sexual themes & references, romantic dynamic, established relationship, consent

Orion’s gold sword scattered and spilt aloft dust from your dreams as your senses became conscious of the present.

The slow, steady beats of his heart echoed through your ears, spreading an incomparable sense of warmth and safety to your unsettled mind. You buried your head deep in the crook of his neck, refusing to face the blinding morning sun rays, and sank into the person who consumed your dreams and reality.

White auroral lights swam between tangled bodies, caressing any uncovered parts. You had to flutter at the feeling of your eyes drinking the day. Your cheek nuzzled closer, asking for refuge until your lips slowly found his soft skin.

Timothée was still lost between dreams, his eyes sealed, too tightly to let the light in, and his lips parted, breathing in the day. Sprawled out on his back, he had one arm around you, fingers resting on your shoulder, holding you throughout his sleep, afraid you’d dissolve into the night.

As you watched him sleeping, with his head tilted to your side and his chest rising and falling to the sound of his breathing, you wanted nothing more than to lick the sleep off his eyes. But he looked so serene, so peaceful and unbothered, you couldn’t help but keep staring at him like he was the most beautiful landscape.

The colours of the sun reflected on his face - and you wondered whether or not he could feel the light piercing his skin. A smile curled up on your mouth and you brushed a kiss on his neck before detaching from his body. Balanced on your elbow, with head resting on your shoulder, you observed him as time went by, drinking in every little detail.

You brought your fingers to his forehead, fiddling with a stubborn curl that concealed his eyes. Slowly, your gaze slid lower and you let your finger run gently to the small bump of his nose, tracing all the way down to his Cupid’s bow, and then lined the soft curves of his mouth.

Timothée grinned and his lips tried to catch your finger.

« You’re always doing that, » he rumbled from the deepest parts of his throat, bringing you a small smile.

« Because I know that’s what wakes you up, » you whispered and he peeked his eyes open.

« And you wanted to wake me up ? Cruel. » A wolfish grin appeared on your face as Timothée tilted his head and pressed a kiss on your mouth, the first of the day. « Good morning… », he murmured, voice still groggy and sleep-filled.

« Mornin’… » He turned around on his stomach and hugged you, burring his face close. « Slept well ? »

« Mmm... Better. »

« Better ? »

« Yeah... Because you’re here. » You laughed, truly happy chortle as he covered his smile on your pillow.

Hypnotized by the warmth, you stayed there for a while, feeling the sun gliding and soaking in your skin. Timothée simply gazed at you in silence.

With his breath against your skin, you fell into the heavy air your bodies erected. You held his shoulder tight and rubbed the smooth, glistering skin, fingers tracing the curves of his muscles and the slope of his nape.

« Timmy, » you said softly and tried to catch his cheek with your lips. As if knowing what you were about to say, he snuggled closer, bringing one leg between yours to keep you there. « Tim, I should get going. »

« I think you should stay, » he mumbled, his mouth falling on your neck, leaving wet traces on everything it touched. He idly cupped your cheek and turned your head in his direction to kiss you.

« I can’t. »

« You could… »

« I can’t. »

Timothée looked at you for a moment and then hovered over you, trapping you between his arms. He stared at you under a pair of furrowed brows.

« No ? » You shook your head as Tim pressed his lips on yours. « Come on, stay… »

Your hands sank into his hair and he leaned into your touch, letting his eyes seal in delight when you pulled back curls that were still tangled with the night. You smiled, pressing soft kisses on the edge of his mouth and Timothée bent his head for you, allowing your lips to explore his chin, his jaw, his neck.

« I really can’t... », you whispered. He lowered his head to catch your lips.

« Come on, it’s nice... And snug... And you look pretty in the morning... », he mumbled as mouths merged and blended into one. « Just stay. »

Your fingers held him back for a moment. Maybe it was the way the sun lit his face at that partucular moment causing his eyes to squint, or his skin that felt so warm against yours and softer than usual, but suddenly he was very convincing.

A smile stretched on your face at his attempts to catch your lips and he chuckled, his breath coming out heavy, once you let him reach your mouth.

Still having you in a mock wrestling position, Timothée leaned down and bit the side of your lips, slowly following the tilt of your neck and your collarbones. His mouth dropped lower and lower on your sternum giving it soft-mouth bites.

« I want you so bad. »

He breathed in your aroma, tongue swirling over your chest, overwhelmed by your scent. Your neck stretched back by his kisses and you closed your eyes as Tim brought his lips to yours again, this time deeper with fevered, blazing desire.

« You want me ? », your tongue lolled out on a salacious kiss. « At 7h ? »

« Yes... Want me to prove it ? », Timothée murmured softly, a small grin hanging from his mouth as you stared at him.

His fingers moved to the crook of your neck and tipped your head on the mattress. He kneeled lower on your body, hot breath panting against your skin. His hands slid to your sides, as if trying to memorize every inch of you.

A ghostly smile appeared on his lips as he bit your navel and placed wet kisses over your stomach, letting them one by one vanish in the air. He held your hips tightly, squeezing every part of you helplessly while his fingers slowly wandered between your thighs making your whole body tense and your breath hitch in anticipation.

« Stay ? » You pulled his hair back, chest rising and falling heavily.

« Okay. »

« ‘Okay,’ you’ll stay ? », he bit his lips and lightly raised his brows. You nodded.

Timothée grinned at you all flushed, diabolically angelic looking, as he settled between your legs, shoulders rubbing your knees.

He kissed the notch of your thighs, lips going higher on the apex and you smiled, stretching your head to the side. Tim let out a sly chuckle, breathlessly bringing his fingers to his mouth. His head lowered to your skin and fingers slid inside you, slowly finding their way. You hushed out a moan, letting your hand fall from his hair to his shoulder, gripping the skin.

His lips trailed lower, following the traces of his fingers. Your mouth agape in a silent scream, feeling his breath so close, his tongue licking and sucking eagerly on everything it touched.

Timothée smiled at the soul-capturing sound of your quiet moans, hearing his name come out as a plea, a prayer, a curse. His hand shaped the path of your lower stomach, fingers dripping silver honey, before his tongue slid inside you, teeth biting softly layers and layers, and brushing soft kisses.

Between the obscene sounds of his tongue, you shut your eyes, too dulled to lift them, giving in to the feeling. Your back arched to the bed and he had to grip your waist to keep you down. You held his shoulder and gasped desperately.

The room suddenly turned too heavy and his groans surged electric bolts through you.

For a moment he stopped and you sucked in a sharp breath. He panted against you, his kisses coming out gentle and slow as he rested his mouth on your stomach.

« Why you stopped ? », you asked breathless. He giggled boyishly, hovering on top of you.

Tim touched the edge of your mouth with his fingers, sketching it, drawing it, and your lips parted with bated breath. He licked his fingers and kissed you. You licked his fingers and kissed him again, barely holding your tongues in your teeth, playing in corners where air comes and goes.

« And you wanted to leave… », his lovely silken murmur echoed through your ears as he rubbed his mouth to yours smearing kisses that made you smile.

« Don’t stop, » you inhaled him, tangling his fingers with yours and dragging them lower to your body.

He chuckled again, bringing his tongue to your lips and you tried to catch it, before he kissed you, softly and tenderly, no pressing further just soaking into each other.

You glided his fingers down as he lingered on your neck and your jaw. One leg wrapped around him, bringing him impossibly close.

Timothée touched the inside of your thigh and you let out a sigh of pleasure, as sun-kissed mouths chased one another. His fingers clenched deep in you, eyes measuring with utter acclaim and pride the way your head bent back and your mouth fell loose. He continued his ministrations with his fingers eliciting soft whimpers from you until he couldn’t breathe.

Timothée pulled out his hand, soaking and glistering, and slid it down to himself desperately. You pressed your mouth on his and he let a small whine as your fingers slithered replacing his hand with yours.

He groaned against your mouth with lips tasting like ripe fruit as you slid lower your fingers. You watched his blissful expression full of longing and pleading, the way his Addam’s apple moved while his hot breath fanned your face with struggle. He tilted his head back and your lips touched his neck, giving it small mouth bites.

A loud gasp abandoned your mouth and Timothée groaned hard when you brought him close, until you sank into each other’s warmth, until all the parts of your bodies were touching. He buried himself deep in you, tender skin brushing against the other.

With jaw clenched and teeth grinding, Tim brought his face to yours. He held your cheek lovingly as you smothered each other under the heavy mist of stimuli.

You merged into one, blending as you breathed, your mouths brushing in gentle struggle. Timothée lunged into you, every move full of reverence, every thrust sinking deeper and deeper with an irresistible momentum.

Your head tipped back on the mattress, face disfigured by the throws of passion as you slid your arms to his back, cradling his shoulder.

Bodies scraped the white sheets as you shifted and pushed at each other, knowledgable in the pleasure of the other, working together in perfect harmony.

Strained moans elicited in the air through lively movements and dark fragrance. Tim held onto you dearly, swallowed by the ambition to drive you off the edge. His fingers clammed your face tighter, lips desperately trying to catch your skin.

Your head fell back and chest expanded, demolished, drunk on pleasure. You revelled in his touch, in the feeling of his naked skin against yours, absorbing him whole as he sank into you.

Until tremors shook your body, until you trembled against him like a moon on water, and he as well reached the peak of his pleasure, the sweet feeling of suffocation wrapping its arm around his throat, and in unison, you climbed and lunged into the climax.

He collapsed on top of you, both still fogged-up, sweaty and in total disarray, sucking in together your breaths with an old perfume and a silence.

Timothée pressed his mouth to the side of your head before rolling off your chest to his back.

Panting heavily, you stared at the sun painting the ceiling, creating shadows that trembled above your heads.

Timothée twisted his neck and looked at you with a grin plastered on his face. You smiled feeling his eyes on you and smoothened your hair back before turning to him.

« Stay now ? » You chuckled breathlessly and streched your head to press a kiss on his swollen lips.

« Can’t. »

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