#everyone deserves some self indulgence every now and then
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chibinasuu · 2 months ago
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Zoro x Reader ― by the fire; cuddling
part of the cozy holidays event
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🎁 ― @kyllium tags: sfw, pure fluff, established relationship, GN!reader, no use of y/n
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Roronoa Zoro was not and had never been a cuddler. 
…or so he claimed. 
As you sat on a log by the bonfire, in a banquet after the Straw Hats successfully liberated yet another kingdom, Roronoa Zoro was clinging to you like his life depended on it. 
Sanji was running around trying to find a cam-snail, hoping to capture the moment for future blackmail material. Robin was giggling quietly to herself, amused by the swordsman’s uncharacteristic behavior. 
The green-haired man was too drunk to care. 
He had (foolishly) challenged Jinbe to a drinking contest, which he had obviously lost, badly.
The fishman was chatting happily with the locals across the clearing, seemingly unbothered by the unholy amount of alcohol he had just consumed. Meanwhile, his opponent had entered a relaxed, half-drowsy state that he always found himself in whenever he drank more than he should, which admittedly, was not often. 
You could only sit frozen in space, cheeks burning, trying to avoid Nami’s gaze as she teasingly made kissy faces at you. Your arms were tight on your sides, trapped by Zoro’s thick ones wrapped around your figure. His face was buried in your neck, and your breath hitched when you felt his lips brush once, twice, against the sensitive skin. 
You were no stranger to Zoro's touches. He had his affectionate moments whenever the two of you were alone, but in public? The most he had ever done was hold your hand in front of the crew. 
“Zoro,” You whispered, “People are watching.”
“Don’t care.” He mumbled as he nuzzled closer to you, “Let ‘em see how much I love you.”
You couldn’t stifle the smile that crept up your face, but Zoro was apparently not done talking yet. 
“Do you know how much I love you?” He slurred as he pulled his head back to look at you, his smile as soft as you had ever seen it, “I’m so in love with you, it‘s making me dizzy.”
You decided that you liked drunk Zoro. 
The man was not exactly vocal with his declarations of love, so it was always nice to hear him say it out loud once in a while.  
You laughed and wriggled your arms out of his tight grip, using them to pull him even closer to you. You gave him a small kiss on the top of his head, “I love you too, Zoro, but that’s probably the alcohol making you dizzy.” 
You know your beloved swordsman would probably be mortified by all of this tomorrow – if he could even remember anything – but for now, you gladly basked in his affection, despite being slightly embarrassed yourself. 
You let him lean on you as he rested his bones  – he deserved it after today's long battle. The crackling of the dying fire only added to his drowsiness, and you could see his eyelid fluttering, struggling to stay open. 
You stroke his hair gently, playing with the spiky ends on his nape. Zoro sighed out your name, muttering a couple more I-love-yous into your ear for good measure. His hand on your waist subtly slipped under your top, his thumb drawing lazy circles on your bare skin. 
As the flames slowly turned into embers, you were grateful for the darkness that hid your flushed skin and dilated pupils. 
“Zoro, are you asleep?”
A soft grunt indicated that he was still awake, but barely.
“Do you want to go back to the ship? You should get into bed and get some proper sleep.”
He answered with a deeper grunt. You were fluent enough in Zoro’s grunts by now that you knew that meant ‘yes’. 
After bidding good night to everyone who remained at the banquet, you half-led, half-dragged Zoro back to the Thousand Sunny, with your arm wrapped around his waist, and his arm slung around your shoulders.
You didn’t complain about his massive weight bearing down on you – not when he stopped every few steps to press tender kisses to your cheek.
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a/n: this is practically a self-indulgent fic that feeds into my headcanon that zoro gets extremely affectionate whenever he was drunk
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yanderefarm · 3 months ago
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Silvan is just to cute can I request him riding us in front the other pets and vampires showing him off to everyone
ftm!silvan putting on a show
cw;; p in v, pussy slapping, cervix penetration, squirting, inspecting genitals, voyeurism, overstimulation, pet play, size kink, belly bulge, nsft, the word cunt, t dicks
so i went stupid hard with this one. as you can see by the cw and the length. silvan deserves just unabashedly horny fics. this ended up so self indulgent.... i just think the idea of inspecting silvan in front of a group of vampires to show him off is too good not to write... and i made him ftm in this one because i really wanted to. he's not always but he can be as a treat
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darkness, complete darkness that seemed to swallow everything it touched. the poor human standing there numb until cold dexterous fingers slid across his cheek hooking into the blindfold and gently pulling it away from his closed eyes. the familiar reds and greens of light burned at his eyes, urging him to close them tighter. his face scrunched up as he tried to avoid the harsh light above him but it was in vain. all he heard was your voice so close to his ear.
"open."
slowly he pried his eyes open, vision getting flooded by the bright stage lighting. at first the light was all he could see before the shadows of figures came into view. there were probably no more than 20 heads most of which were clad in some kind of eccentric mask. their gazes were all fixed on the stage, on silvan.
silvan felt embarrassment and anxiety start to bubble up in his chest, the humiliation of being completely nude in front of so many getting to him, until your cold fingers ran across his exposed shoulder. your nimble but frigid fingers traced across his shoulder until they met the base of his neck. your fingers slipped so carefully underneath the ribbon tied around his neck, an intimate gesture you'd done a thousand times. however unlike every other time you had touched him so delicately now there were people staring with baited breath.
silvan heard a few actual gasps as your fingers exposed his scarred and bruised neck to your audience. he tilted his head to the side as your fingers began gently pressing against the tender skin. he gasped followed by a soft whimper as your fingers pressed into one of the bruises you had left on him. he heard you hum thoughtfully behind him before you pressed your thumb into the bruise hard enough to leave another in its place. he let out an actual pathetic cry at the pain only to be met with the laughter of the audience.
the positive reaction from the other vampires spurred you to wrap your hand around his neck and squeeze. the lightest bit of pressure from your overwhelming strength made it hard to breathe and silvan began to get a bit dizzy. your knee pressed between his legs causing him to spread them revealing his sensitive pussy to the audience. one hand still around his throat you slid your other hand down between his thighs.
you pressed your fingers into his mound, your breath hitching in his ear when you felt him getting wet. you released his throat only to instead pull him backwards by his shoulder. his body fell into yours while you sat back in a chair successfully sitting him on your lap. in this position his completely naked body was more on display and on instinct he tried to close his legs. that earned him a firm slap against his cunt and your legs holding his open for everyone to see.
silvan cried out, his hands instinctively grabbing your arm to try to stop you. the audience laughed. you laughed. his pathetic attempt to stop you earned him another firm slap against his cunt. he arched his stomach as he tried to pull himself away from your hands but he had nowhere to go. your fingers pushed his fat pussy open exposing his hard little t dick as well as his wet folds.
silvan squirmed as he could feel everyone staring at him but no matter what he did he couldn't get away from you. with one hand holding his cunt open for everyone to see you brought your other down to rub a slow tantalizing circle around his tight hole. his hole clenched around nothing as his folds grew even slicker earning him more laughter. you were laughing with them all, silently mocking him for being so easy and it only made his pussy get wetter. you weren't usually sadistic with him but something about having an audience brought out your desire to make the weak creature in your lap sob.
you kept his pussy spread with your fingers and brought another slap down on his extremely sensitive t dick. the scream that came out of him was so delicious you could hear his voice crack and all the vampires in the room cheered. your mouth pressed a gentle kiss into his cheek and with tears in his eyes he turned his head trying to reach your lips.
you gave him another softer slap against his t dick watching as his cute face that had been sweetly asking for a kiss morphed into tears running down his face and his mouth opening to scream again. he didn't have the chance to scream as your mouth slammed against his, greedily sucking on his tongue. your hand rubbed around his swollen t dick slowly careful not to touch it directly. you swallowed his pathetic broken moans with your mouth until he was getting dizzy and out of breath again.
you pulled away from his mouth letting him catch his breath while your hands finally moved from his cute pussy. you looked at the crowd while your hands rested under his small tits, pushing them up slightly.
"silvan, my pet, started with no meat on his body but now he's well fed enough that his chest has developed into a soft A cup." you squeezed his small chest in your hands.
upon realizing what you were doing silvan felt his entire face get hot with shame. your thumbs rubbed against his perky nipples.
"you can see here his nipples get nice and hard with stimulation. they're sensitive to being sucked and pulled."
you illustrated your point by pulling his nipples. he moaned loudly his thighs shaking as he tried in vain to close them. the vampires chuckled and one of them even whispered too loudly about how wet he was getting. in response your hands slid down his stomach and landed on his thighs.
"you can see my beautiful pet has a cute little pussy. for his enrichment i've allowed him to receive hrt treatments."
your fingers pushed open his pussy again, using your thumb to pull the hood back on his t dick.
"his clitoris has become enlarged due to his treatments and its so sensitive." your thumb rubbed against the length of it earning you another moan. "look at him, so eager."
your fingers traveled farther down to expose his dripping hole that been making a mess all over your pants and the chair. you just held his hole open, the muscles clenching around nothing and squeezing more of his slick out.
"this is his cute pussy. you can see he gets wet so easily even after his spanking. his hole wants to be filled so badly but as some of you know he cries so much when you penetrate him. he's so tight i think his eyes are bigger than his cunt."
your finger traced circles around his hole again coaxing it to flex and clench more.
"slap him again" someone from the audience called.
your chest shook as you laughed at their request. silvan tried to look at you but he found it hard to strain his head. all he could do was whimper softly hoping you wouldn't listen to them.
you licked his ear, biting the shell gently. "I'm going to make your little pussy ache. if you be good the whole time I'll give you a nice reward."
silvan just nodded, tears still in his eyes and his face red.
"count."
with that simple order you began your harsh spanking of his soaking cunt. silvan struggled to form words but you gave him just enough time to force out a number before your hand slapped against him again. every impact had his thighs trying to no avail to close while his pussy just dripped more mess. by the 5th slap his pussy was red and sore so you stopped holding it open. your 6th slap smacked against his slightly exposed t dick which caused him to wail out. he missed the number 6 but you were feeling generous with his tears pouring down his face.
"miss one again and you have to start over"
"no-no pl-pleash im shorry im-"
smack. another wail as his short nails dug into your arm hard enough to scratch. luckily for him he managed to choke out a 7.
smack. scream. a choked out number. repeat.
with the 12th slap his voice was surprisingly shot and he could only weakly croak out the number 12. his poor pussy was bright red from the abuse so you decided to show him some much needed mercy. your fingers took his swollen aching t dick and you rubbed it nice and slow. you could feel silvan's wound up body melt against you, his head falling back as he let out soft moans. you pressed your lips to his neck, tongue running across his skin before giving him gentle nips.
"you're being so good for me, love."
your pet name made his thighs tremble as they tried to close again and you chuckled softly. you could tell just from his soft little moans and his hips trying to buck he was getting close just from you jerking off his t dick. you ran your finger along the small length before you pulled your hand back and slapped his cunt again.
silvan screamed so loudly you heard his voice break, there were tears pouring down his cheeks. the most surprising part was that the pain hadn't stopped him from his orgasm, his entire body was shaking and his eyes had rolled back. your precious pet had squirted, his cum a little puddle on the stage. you were staring in shock at his worn out body, you even forgot he hadn't followed your orders, too transfixed by how amazing and sexy he was.
"oh look at my pet.." you addressed your audience again, one of your hands gently petting silvan's hair. "such a good pet he can cum like a good pain slut."
you leaned into him and kissed his lips greedily, your other hand rubbing soothing circles in his thigh. you tasted his tears and his weak moans while he tried in vain to pull your hand away from his thigh. his whole body was sore and his head was like it was underwater, he needed to get away from your touch. but it was worthless to try, your strength outmatched him even when he wasn't completely spent.
you moved your pet's body, closing your own thighs so he could follow suit. he was still a panting mess against your chest as your hand moved from his thigh to rub your own bulge. you made just enough room to free your cock from confinement, your massive length pressing against his back. silvan sobbed softly, trying to squirm away from you as he hiccupped.
"pweash i ca-cant mashter pweash"
you kissed his hair to soothe him. "everyone wants to see you, baby. they want to see your pretty cunt get bred."
you grabbed his jaw and forced him to look out at the audience. several vampires had already begun to touch themselves through their clothes while others were gripping their pants trying to hold out for the main event. despite his protests silvan could feel himself clenching around nothing again, the sight of so many people desiring him made his already dripping pussy leak. your mouth was on his neck now and you nipped his skin while you kept his head forward.
"ma-master-" his voice was weak and he was clearly making an effort not to slur his speech.
"do you want me to use you? do you want me to stuff your little pussy full?" you whispered your voice hot in his ear.
all silvan could do was nod his head but that was all you needed. you spread his thighs open again this time your cock resting right against his pussy. you hooked your arms under his knees and lifted him up with ease so he was hovering above your cock. you could feel he was full of anticipation, his pussy still leaking all over your length. you began cooing to him what a good boy he was as your bulbous tip pressed against his hole but your words were quickly lost when your pet screamed. his head fell back, his hands gripped his own legs so tightly he broke skin, his raw and abused voice sounded through the room, and his tight pussy squirted again.
a few of your audience members cursed under their breaths, clearly in awe of your pet. you felt proud, not only had you drawn such good orgasms out of your little pet but everyone in the theater was jealous of where you were. silvan's pussy was tight and warm, his soft velvety walls were squeezing your cock like he was trying to rip it off. it was heavenly, it was always heavenly but having so many hungry envious eyes on you made it even sweeter.
you let silvan catch his breath before you pushed more of your girth into him, dropping him just enough to let gravity do the rest. he was crying again his pretty kiss swollen lips babbling about it being too big. you knew he was just saying nonsense, you proved it to him as half your cock filled him leaving him sobbing wordlessly. it was too big for him to take every inch though, before you could reach the hilt and about a quarter left your tip met resistance. the kind of resistance that had silvan's eyes rolling back, drool dripping down his lips, and the bulge of your cock showing through his stomach. your tip pressed snugly against his cervix.
"I'm so deep inside my pretty pet." you addressed the others again, one of your hands moving to show the bulge in his stomach. "i could flood his womb and make him carry cute little puppies."
silvan whimpered in a way you knew meant "please do" and you chuckled. you picked up his knees again and lifted him off your cock until only the tip was still inside. you could feel his hole desperately clenching around your cock, trying to suck you back in, before you slammed him back down onto you. silvan screamed so pretty as your cock bruised his cervix. again and again, your hips raising to meet him as you bounced him. it didn't take long for his screaming to quiet down as he opted to drool against your shoulder. you could see his eyes were rolling back before his eyelashes would flutter and he'd gaze at you with pretty blank eyes.
you kissed his mouth sloppily, your mixed saliva trailing down the corners of your mouth. you grunted into his mouth with each rough thrust of your hips meeting his. your skin made a wet slapping sound as his slippery cunt had soaked his thighs. the sinful sounds of your bodies only served to push you further towards the edge, you were so close to pumping your pet full of cum.
before you could make a mess of his insides you settled silvan with your cock pressed right againt his aching cervix and stood up with him still on you. you carried him to the edge of the stage where you shifted him so you could hold him with one arm. the other hand moved to his sopping pussy and you ran your fingers along his t dick. silvan let out a squeal, his throat too tight for another scream.
"gonna show everyone your pretty squirting cunt up close."
your hand began a brutal pace rubbing his t dick fast and hard. the vampires near the front of the stage watched in awe, their fangs digging into their lips while their hands tried to match your pace. silvan was sobbing so loudly trying so hard to scream but all that came out was pathetic whining and hiccuping. his pussy tightened like a vice grip and you actively had to resist flooding his womb there. finally your pet fell back against your body and his cunt squirted a third time.
you kept standing there resuming drilling into his abused body even as silvan seemed to be fading from consciousness. his pretty blank eyes fluttered close and then open again when your cock bullied his cervix again. he couldn't even whine properly anymore just a pathetic gasp of his shaky breath. you kissed him passionately as you felt your balls tighten, you pressed your tip right against his cervix as you finally poured your cum into his body.
thick ropes filled his body, so much it even began to leak down your cock. your beloved pet finally closed his eyes as he drifted from consciousness. you held him tenderly in your arms before giving him a quick kiss on the nose.
"my sweet pet needs some rest. we'll continue in half an hour."
poor silvan was going to wake up in another thirty minutes with your fingers trying to push all your cum back into his abused hole. but for now you'd let him rest with your cock still buried inside him.
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anni-writes · 7 months ago
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teamwork
Kuroo Tetsurou x reader | very suggestive fluff
word count: 1.8k
Warnings: post timeskip Kuroo x coworker! reader, fluff nsfw-ish language
@ anni says: I'm Kuroo Tetsurou's whore. but I also adore him. this was just another innocent self indulgent drabble that was lost in my drafts, so there you go, enjoy!
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the lingering stares, the coffee excuses, the light subtle touches while exchanging papers, the gossipy chatting every lunch break,
the way you look so goddamn hot when you're focused in your work and how that sometimes distracts him from his own work��
and also the inhumanly strenght he need to gather to divert his stare from your plump thighs when you cross your legs under the desk… the privileged view from his desk across from yours can be also a burden sometimes
and then there's that damn high heels you use… not often, though. only when there's important meetings. makes you feel more confident, you said once. but god, when you use it he just want to lay on the floor for you to step on him
there's more and more and so much more about the office bond he has with you that irks him both in the right and wrong ways.
working in the JVA marketing implied that your most strong stakeholder was the promotion division, once the areas needed each other to thrive
therefore, makes total sense that you and Kuroo were so close to each other, right?
it's normal when you're training a new intern and he tags along with the excuse to help you, but spends the whole time glaring menacingly at the guy when he stares at your cleavage a little to much, isn't it?
or when he passes by your desk, leaving a chocolate once every other week, with his handwriting in a note thay says “that presentation was sick, congratulations” or “you deserve a raise, but take this chocolate in the meantime” or some other silly thing that makes you smile
your eyes always dart to him, smiling softly,
but you also can't help but think to yourself that he wanna fuck you so bad— and the thought itself is so entertaining that you shake your head, snorting, as he eyes you puzzled
the tension is clear for you as much as it is for him… he, too, checked all your boxes. a handsome smoking hot smart and competent man that has his eyes set on you? you'd be crazy not to enjoy
so, eventually, you would throw paper balls at him while he's focused, making him roll his eyes and smirk
but also never ceased to bring him coffee when you go get for you. you know how he likes, he works so close to you, why wouldn't you bring him one too?
and the glint in his eyes make it worth it every damn time
neither of you were making the first move so soon, but everyone in the office knows about the unspoken bond you share, gaining some attention in gossip groups around the floor
but then, one day, you were working until very late, apparently alone at the office.
and suddenly, he popped up back, with a can of beer, a loosened tie, two buttons opened, walking torwards your desk, placing the beer beside your papers
you looked at him tilting your head puzzled
“Where did you get that?”
“At the bar across the street”
i tilted my head even more
“You were at the bar across the street and came back to the office to hand me a beer?”
“Exactly”
he said matter-of-factly, making you snort. his words were subtly slured, indicating he drank enough to get at least tipsy
“Why?”
“Why not?”
he answered shrugging, and you read through his attempt to divert the topic. but you also know he's very stubborn, so you just brush it off
“How did you even know I was still in the office? It's late…”
you say, while opening the can while looking at the hour on your computer
“It's the first Monday of the month, you always stay late finishing the monthly report… Besides, I saw the light on from across the street, just put two and two together”
“Damn, you're good—”
you say, amazed at how he memorized your routine by now, while sipping your beer, sighing as the cold liquid soothes your tense muscles, feeling the last motivation to end the report today getting obliterated
he watches your every move like a hawk, walking sneakly behind your back to rub your shoulders
you sigh, feeling a chill down your spine with his touches, humming softly with the massage
“You're done with the report?"
he asked, his fingers rubbing circles in your back muscles, sliding to your shoulders. you lean in his touch
“No… But I think I can finish it tomorrow morning," you reply, trying to suppress the pleasure in your voice from his magical touch.
he chuckles lightly, lowering his torso to lean closer, his breath hitting your neck, making you shiver embarrassingly
"That's what I thought," he says softly, his hands never ceasing their movements, the tension that's been building between the two of you for months feels like it's finally reaching a boiling point
before things get awkward, you start to stand up from your chair, closing your laptop on the desk, sipping your beer casually,
when he took advantage of the moment to pull your chair away and leaning closer, his chest pressing against your back, his mouth on your ear
"Don't I deserve a… reward… for the beer and the massage?”
he whispered, the warmth of his breath making your heart race, his arms encircling youe waist in a new way… despite your supposed closeness, it's the first time you feel him this close.
his voice is like velvet, seductive and irresistible, making you question if this was a good idea.
you pathetically place your free hand on the desk to anchor yourself, feeling the weight of the intensity that has been building between us
"Is that what you've been thinking about all along? Pinning me on the desk when there's no one around?"
you whisper back, your voice dropping to a sensual tone as you lean in his chest, looking at him through your shoulders
the tension is palpable, your mutual attraction finally coming to a head. you put your beer down on the desk, meeting his gaze with a daring look, ready to cross the line you've been flirting with for so long.
"And what if I have?" — he whispers back, his voice a low growl that sends shivers down your spine. —"What are you going to do about it?"
his challenge hangs in the air between us, a gauntlet thrown down, waiting for you to pick it up. and that's exactly what you do.
you turn around to face him, raising your chin to line your mouth with his, as his arms hook around my waist
“I might just finally kiss you… would that be bad?”
his eyes darken with desire, his hands pulling you closer.
"That might be the best idea you've ever had,"
and just like that, we give up, succumbingto the tension building for months,
he leans in, or you lean in… its indistinguishable who kissed who first, but you capture each other lips in a heated intense kiss, your tongues already seeking each other’s and you taste the faint malt of the beers he had earlier, sighing with the deliciousness of it all
he gives one step further, boxing you on the desk behind, making you lean back, his hand traveling down my hips
you retaliate, taking his bottom lip between your teeth and biting softly, making him groan
he pushes his tongue inside your mouth again, and you gladly take it, sucking on it, kissing him back with the same passion
it feels almost relieving having him like this after so much tension building. it feels right.
he parts the kiss, but kept his mouth on your jaw, leaving a trace of wet kisses down, reaching your neck
you lean your head back, giving him free reign on your neck, which he gladly take it, switching from kisses to bites, making you moan softly
your moan unlock something primal in his brain, and one of his hand on your hips travel down your thigh, reaching the back of your knee, pushing up his waist, and the other slides to cup your ass
all that while assaulting your neck with languig nibbles, and you can't help but let out a chuckled moan
“Fuckk… eagerrr, are we?”
you say, low and purring, and the way you draw the words from your mouth goes straight to his pants, making his cock twitch, unconsciously grinding his hips on you, his hand giving a light squeeze in your ass
he grins, groaning a little in your neck, the tone vibrating against your chest
it takes you the damn last bit of strenght to knock some sense into him
“Mmhmm… Kuroo… you know… there's cameras in the office… ”
you say slightly breathless, threading your fingers in his hair, gripping, trying to pull him away from your neck
“Call me Tetsurou”
he say lowly and i can't help but chuckle
“Tetsurou…” — i say, rolling his name from my tongue, liking the sound— “there's cameras—”
“They're not gonna check the cameras unless something gets stolen…”
“We're not gonna fuck in the office, Tetsuro”
he parts from your neck, looking straight at me with a glint in his eyes, his famous lazy smirk
“Oh? So we are gonna fuck?”
you narrow your eyes, he got you now.
you snort, grabbing his tie and pulling him for another kiss, mumbling a quick
“Shut up”
he kiss you chuckling in your mouth, his hand on your thigh progressing further, sliding your skirt up, feeling the soft skin he drooled so many times before—
“Not here, Tetsuro—”
he grumbles, releasing your thigh and raising his hands in mocking surrender
“Okay, okay. I get it.” — then he takes your hand, pulling you closer to him — “but you're coming to my place now, and I'm not taking no for an answer”
as you two leave the workplace giggling and holding hands, your coworkers on the bar across the street watch the scene, all ready to let the gossip spread, but also knowing it was bound to happen eventually
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deathbxnny · 2 months ago
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Hi! I really love your fic. Could you write oneshot reader x Viktor that reader has imposter syndrome and they blame themselves for little mistakes. How would Viktor comfort them?
The failed overachiever. | Viktor x Gn!Reader
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I'm feeling a little better again healthwise, so I hope this is good, Anon! Thank you for your request and enjoy!<3
Content: Imposter syndrome, pre season 2 viktor, some angst, fluff, hurt/comfort, Reader is a genius, established romantic relationship, sfw
Reader has no set pronouns.
((Not proofread))
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"Ah no, no, no! This just won't do!" You hiss out as you toss another paper filled with prototype scribbles in the trash. Working on your latest projects was already a painful drag, but it certainly didn't help that you just couldn't make up your mind. The equations you have come up with also seemed wrong. And the deadline to the showcasing was coming closer and closer!
Sleep was rare to find these days, mainly as you were stuck trying to chase a perfection you just simply never have found yet in your lifetime. An impossible feat you were unwilling to give up on no matter what. The many endless achievements that littered the walls of your laboratory were a clear statement to your deep desperation. You were practically renowned for your genius innovation and philosophies, but they never reached your mind. To you, they felt undeserving as in every one you could only see the flaws and mistakes you've made.
You couldn't escape the cycle of self hate you've trapped yourself in for years now... but that didn't mean that your dear boyfriend Viktor wasn't going to try and help you anyway.
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Viktor narrowly dodged an incoming crumbled paper when he entered your laboratory late into the night. You hadn't left it in days now, and whilst it may have very well been hypocritical of him, he had come to bring you to bed. You used to do this often to him as well, way before the obsession for a flawless project had taken over you, but ever since you've been asked to present your latest projects at a inventors gala, things changed for the worst. He was already familiar with your rather self-destructive behaviors and was deeply concerned by them, another form of hypocrisy on his part, he supposed.
Tilting his head at your hunched over form, he carefully approached you, the sound of his cane making you hum weakly in acknowledgment. "Rough night?" He joked, although you found less amusement in it as you shook your head in disappointment. "I am simply enraged by everything! Every draft is worse than the last, and the deadline is in two weeks, and I have yet to finish a thing, and, and-" You let out a frustrated string of curses, before near swiping everything off your work desk. "I'm just... such a failure... nothing I do is good enough. Every mistake is a testament to how little I deserve my position as a scientist and professor."
Viktor frowned gently at your clear defeat, the tears in your eyes making his heart ache. He knew that feeling all too well. And he never wanted you to feel it, too. You were a genius beyond every measure. People followed your inventions like they were religion, always so eager for the latest news. Yet you never saw that part of your success. In fact, not an ounce of you believed you were successful by your own volition either. Every achievement and reward was just dumb luck to you.
"I don't think that's true." He started as he leaned down with great difficulty to grab some papers you had thrown away in rage. "And no one else does either. You're this generations genius. Everyone knows this... but you. And that's sad, my love." His words were soft and warm, the sweetness making you turn to look at him, whilst he sat down in a chair and flipped through your work intently like he always did. Patting his good leg, he invited you to sit in his lap, something that always made you nervous despite him making it clear that it didn't hurt him. Yet you indulged him this time without protest, desperate for some comfort.
He chuckled when you quickly hid your face in his neck, not wanting to embarrass yourself with the tears that were burning in your eyes. Pulling you close with his unoccupied hand, he pressed a kiss to your head and looked over your notes with a prideful glint in his eyes. "Your work moves and inspires thousands. Everyone knows of it and praises it like its gospel. You should be more kind to yourself... which may be hypocritical of me to say, but it's true nonetheless. Your work is perfection." "I don't think it is. The mistakes are so foolish that they are unforgivable." "Hardly." Leaning away, he made enough room to make you see the papers. "This is a flawless equation, and the design is impressive... may I watch you work on it? It would be an honor, my love." The man hummed, making you blink in surprise before you collected your ego and jumped up with a determined, yet flustered look on your face. "Well! If you really think that, then I suppose you can! But don't expect me to slow down for you!" You huffed out, making his smile widen. There you were. The prideful scholar he fell in love with so many years ago.
You began picking and setting things back up, your head turned away from him as you spoke. "... Thank you, by the way. I really needed to hear that." Viktor's eyes glowed with a warm, loving glow as he watched you, his heart full at watching you do what you loved the most.
"No need to thank me. I'll always be there for you."
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224 notes · View notes
killerpancakeburger · 9 months ago
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Breaking point (2/2)
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SUMMARY: Civilian!Reader, who works as Price's assistant, has a breakdown at work. Soap+Ghost help the best they can. Hurt/comfort. Can be read as platonic or romantic. Gender Neutral Reader.
PAIRINGS: Soap x GN!Reader
Ghost's version (1/2) Soap's part 2. Soap's part 3.
TAGS: Hurt/comfort. Military inaccuracies (I make shit up for the sake of the plot). Soap is tooth-rotting sweet.
WARNINGS: Mention of relative in the hospital, suicide ideation, depressive thoughts, swearing.
WORD COUNT: 4.3k
A/N: Very self-indulgent, Reader is going through it and so am I. 🙃Soap is Prince Fucking Charming (very cliché romance tropes). Yours truly suggest to listen to "Strong For Somebody Else" by Citizen Soldier to set the mood. (Song includes suicide ideation and depressive thoughts too, so listen at your own risk).
This bad good boy gave me a harder time than expected lol.
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After ending the call, you put down your phone on your desk in a daze, hand shaking.
The news you’ve just been told cannot be real. Life could not possibly be that cruel. What did I do to deserve this? you wonder helplessly. It’s like every time you get back up, life knocks you down again, sending you tumbling on the cold, hard ground.
Clenching your fists, you stare into space, a thousand thoughts disorderly swirling inside your brain, all bursting with anguish, until a burning tear running down your cheek brings you back to the present. You’re at work, your boss is in the next room; a breakdown is a luxury you cannot afford right now. Better bite your tongue hard enough to draw blood than be caught sobbing. 
Inhaling a shaky breath, you take your head between your hands, shoving your fingers into your hair, trying to convince yourself to postpone your nervous collapse. Only one hour left, and you’ll be free to cry your eyes out at your flat. Or on the way home, even. It’s not like the other passengers ever paid you attention the other times you’ve cried on the bus.
But somehow your attempts have the opposite effect, and more tears roll down your face, staining the papers beneath it. As you furiously wipe your face with your sleeve, with a blend of frustration and despair, pissed at yourself, and wanting to get rid of the evidence of your fragile state as fast as possible, the unmistakable sound of your office’s door opening makes you look up.
Of freaking course of all bloody people that could have walked in on you, it had to be Soap fucking Mactavish. Only the most gorgeous man on base - according to you, that is.
You weren't proud of it, but you had a crush on him since you arrived, six months ago. His piercing cerulean eyes, rugged good looks and outgoing personality wouldn’t let you know peace. The mere sight of him was enough to bring a goofy smile to your face, and every conversation between the two of you left you blushing and elated.
You initially thought that this silly, juvenile infatuation would fade away soon enough. Ok, he was beautiful, and he had eyes to damn yourself for, so what? Surely with enough time and exposure, he'd feel mundane. But things didn’t go that way at all.
On top of looking stunning, he just had to be friendly. He made you feel welcome when you arrived. He made efforts to include you in conversations, asking questions to get to know you. He relieved you of the burden of small talk, appeasing your social anxiety, by happily keeping the conversation going on his own, never taking offense when you had nothing to say. He chose to spend some of his free time with you, escorting you back from the archives or dropping by your office.
He was even flirty at times. Flirty. With you.
You could have still disregarded all this; tell yourself he was like this with everyone, that it was just his personality; imagining things would only end up with you hurt in the end.
But then, during a meeting, you witnessed his sincere concern for civilian lives. His righteous anger against unjust orders, when you had fully expected a soldier to obey mindlessly.
This had been your undoing; the moment you knew you were a goner. A severe fondness for him had sunk its claws deep inside your chest and had no intent to let go. It didn’t mean you had any intention to declare your feelings though; you never entertained the thought that he could return them, therefore there was no need for any confession.
For him to be the one to have caught you in this state, it was downright humiliating. Especially since his good heart would make him feel obligated to care.
He was still wearing his leather, fingerless gloves, and some dirt lingered on the contour of his face, like he tossed his weapons and his flak jacket to the side right out of the heli bringing him back to base, and rushed here.
“Hiya hen, brought you the- Shite, what happened?”
His booming voice and cheerful tone fade away as his eyes widen with concern. He briefly freezes at the door in shock before closing the distance to your desk with great strides. You lower your eyes in shame, avoiding his gaze.
“Nothing. Nothing happened. Everything's fine.”
“No offense, bonnie, but yer not very good at lying.”
You bit your lip, forcing yourself to look at him. Staring at your own lap is only going to make you seem more suspicious.
You grit your teeth and lie some more, trying to sound carefree.
“It's nothing, really. I'm just being a crybaby.”
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Crybaby.
Soap turns the word over in his mind, unconvinced.
He still remembers that one time when you showed up thirty minutes late to a meeting with the Task Force, panting, leaning on the threshold, the front of your clothes soaked in blood.
 “Sorry I’m late,” you started.
“‘Sorry’ isn’t going to cut it,” Price interrupted before laying eyes on you. “Bloody hell, what happened to you?”
You explained how Private what's-his-name bled out in the break room after carelessly reopening his stitches and you had to stop the hemorrhage with your bare hands and a bunch of paper towels while shouting yourself hoarse for help. Yet when Price ordered you to take the rest of the day off, you insisted on going on as usual, forcing their captain to make it clear that it wasn’t a mere suggestion.
You and him had a different definition of “crybaby”.
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Clinging to what's familiar, you focus on the stack of papers under his arm.
“You have the latest reports? Give it here.”
You hold out your hand expectantly. Instead of giving them to you, he sets them down on the opposite side of your desk, out of your reach.
“Paperwork can wait.”
You blink in astonishment at him.
“No it cannot…?”
You roll your eyes at his behavior and get up to seize the reports, but he snatches them from you. You can feel your composure snap like a twig.
“Johnny, what the hell?!” you yell, throwing your hands in the air.
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You could remember exactly the first time you called him Johnny, only because it had been such an embarrassment. You couldn’t get used to his alias; sure you had been warned beforehand that some of them were… original, but somehow "Soap" was the one that stood out as the most ridiculous. You briefly entertained the idea of using his first name, except that for you “John” already referred to Captain Price. Only once you tried to call him Mr Mactavish, and as a result Gaz and him guffawed so hard they almost fell off their chairs. Even Ghost let out a cough that was most definitely a concealed laugh. You were running out of options until you heard the lieutenant call him Johnny; you instantly liked it. It just… fitted him. 
From that moment on you used the nickname, but only in your mind. You didn’t have any of the liberties Ghost had and you wouldn’t take them, out of respect, and shyness. Or at least this had been the plan until you fumbled and called him that to his face. The ensuing silence felt deafening as you were realizing what you’ve just done, and you apologized immediately, mortified. 
He just laughed it off; said you could keep calling him that. True, he had appeared more surprised than irritated, but you didn’t want to take the risk of him simply being polite. This too, had been your plan, until he ruined it merily. 
Somehow he must have noticed your efforts to not slip up again because he teased you about it. 
“Not Johnny today? Did ah dae something wrong?”
You went back to “Johnny” quickly - anything to put an end to the mischievous glint in his eye and the rascally smirk on his lips aimed at you. Being the target of his undivided attention sent a pang in your chest and knots in your stomach. Those sensations weren't exactly unpleasant, but it led to an ominous feeling that this was too good to be true, and that at any second this vision would shatter to reveal the cruel reality; so you'd just grant him a timid smile to confirm he did amuse you, but then proceed to look away.
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It's the first time you’re pronouncing “Johnny” with anger; real, raw annoyance, as well as animosity, instead of the fond frustration you usually display when he messes around.
To your utter disbelief, he smiles in response to your outburst. 
“There we go, talk tae me. Even if it’s just tae scream at me.”
The remark pacifies you instantly; you lower your arms, defeated.
“I'm not gonna… I don't want to scream at you.”
You sigh and sit back, setting down your elbows on your desk to take your head between your hands, overburdened.
“The hell you want me to tell you? That my mom's on the brink of death out of nowhere? That when she's gone I'll be all alone in this world?”
You swear, aggravated, as tears sting your eyes again, and this time you ignore if you'll be capable of holding back the flood.
Nevertheless you can still hear Soap curse under his breath, Scottish accent growing thicker, before moving to get on your side of the desk, to reach you, dispensing soft-spoken, soothing words along the way. You pivot to face him, your burning eyes and the sensation of dried tears on your face making you painfully aware that you must look as pathetic as you feel.
Your eyes widen in surprise when you see him kneeling at your feet. His hands reach for your face, slowly enough to give you time to back away if you wanted to.
“A'm sorry, ah didnae mean tae mak' ye cry, a'm a bloody eejit. …Can I?”
His fingers stopped a breath away from your tear-stained cheeks. 
At that exact moment you can’t quite believe what he's about to do, yet you nod your head in agreement - not trusting your voice to not break - all the same, the gaping void in your chest aching for any kind of contact he'd be willing to provide.
His warm fingers cup your cheeks as the pad of his thumbs gently, almost reverently, wipe the underside of your eyes.
“There we go,” he cajoles, meticulously drying any wet spot on your skin.
“A'm ‘ere whether ye want tae talk or not, aye? A'm not going anywhere.”
You stare at him in silence, thunderstruck by the scene unfolding in front of you. Never in your wildest dreams you would have expected to have this man at your feet. He sets his hands down on your knees, squeezing them softly, and is looking right at you, encouraging smile and tender gaze, reassurance radiating from his expression. The position allows you to greedily take in every little detail: the white line of the scar on his chin, the breathtaking shades of blue in his eyes, the gap in his left eyebrow.
As you lose yourself into the work of art that are his features, he keeps conversing.
“We should take yer mind aff things. We could play board games in tha rec room. Or ye could let aff some steam wi’ tha punching bag in tha training room! Ah could teach ye how tae shoot on tha shooting range-”
You open your eyes wide as his suggestions turn progressively more violent.
“I have a bus to catch, and that's overlooking the fact that I haven't done anything in my last hour of work today…”
“If anyone gives you trouble, just say ah forced you.”
You chuckle at the idea.
“You'd never compel me to do anything.”
You can’t repress a loving smile. Johnny just feels that safe to you.
He smirks mischievously at that.
“Na, but they'll believe ah dragged ye intae mah evil schemes.”
He punctuates his statement by a roguish wink that wrests a laughter from you.
“You should take my bed,” he declares suddenly, serious again.
As the silence between you two stretches and your smile is replaced by a mix of shock, confusion, and worry, he realizes how this may sound. Flustered, he starts rambling to defuse the situation.
“Wait, no- steamin’ jesus - Ah didnae mean it like that! I’d take the couch in the rec room, ‘f course. Ye shouldn't go through tonight alone.” 
“Oh my god, Johnny, I could never take your bed from you. You must already sleep on the floor so often for missions…” 
“Exactly, hen. This is nothing for me. The couch is a hotel compared to that.”
You open your mouth to argue more, but then he makes an expression that can only be described as sad puppy eyes, even going as far as slightly tilting his head to the side to perfect the impression. You gulp in response, stricken straight through the heart, and knowing pertinently that you could already hardly refuse him anything, so if he begins to gaze at you like that… 
“Pretty please?” 
Oh no. Not that line.
He's now excessively batting his eyelashes at you, which, while not exactly alluring, is both comical and endearing. Hell, who are you even kidding? You’re so smitten with this blue-eyed creature, is there any act from him you wouldn’t find endearing?
“Are you… pouting?” 
“Depends. Is it working?”
You sigh, aware it's a losing battle, and look away, a futile attempt to hide the ridiculously potent effect he has on you, or to at least shield yourself from his influence, if only momentarily.
“I think you know the answer to that.”
“Maybe ah just wantae hear ye say aye tae me.”
Your cheeks catch fire at the suggestiveness of the words. As if the regular rasp of his voice, that felt like an exquisite caress along your spine, wasn’t already making it incredibly difficult to keep your face at a reasonnable temperature.
“You're gonna get me fired, Johnny.”
“Over my dead body,” he retorted with surprising determination, solemnly pressing a hand over his heart.
You scoff indulgently. Coming from anyone else, the hastily taken oath would be preposterous, but Soap has always proved himself trustworthy.
“Let's go. Your knees must be sore,” you mumble, trying to sound casual.
“Wanna make a joke aboot mah stamina when kneeling but ah will keep it fur next time,” he slips as he stands up, way too smugly for your own good, so you pretend you didn’t hear anything. As if you needed any more incitement into picturing him on his knees in a different context. 
You get up quickly after, but he does not get out of your way. You rise a quizzical eyebrow, his close proximity triggering alarm bells inside your head. If he remains near enough for you to feel his body heat, you’re going to get dizzy.
He simply grins.
“Want a hug?”
You blink at the unexpected question. Yes, implores your touchstarved mind. YES, cries out your sensitive, enamored heart. 
No way, rebuffs your cautious brain. It will only hurt more knowing what you  can’t have.
He opens his muscled arms, smile genuine, almost blinding, like a tacit invitation, and all your reluctance seems to evaporate with that simple gesture. Before you can linger any more on the harmful consequences this lack of restraint will eventually cause, you throw yourself into his embrace. It feels like falling and flying all at once.
Your hands close on the back of his shirt, near his shoulder blades, and, pressing your face into his shoulder to make the world disappear for a moment, you cling to him like he could rescue you from the sinking ship that was your sick mind. One of his arms close around your waist while his free hand rubs your back, leaving trails of fire in its wake, but bringing you much-appreciated comfort nonetheless.
“You're too nice to me. I feel like I'm taking advantage of your kindness.”
He remains silent a drawn-out second, and you're terrified you just screwed everything up.
“Yer givin me too much credit, lass “ he finally says. “Ah don't go ‘round base comforting every person I find.”
His tone isn’t angry, per se, but it lacks its previous joviality.
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Soap tilts his head back, biting his lips, thanking the universe that with your face laying against his chest, you can’t perceive his embarrassment.
He can’t tell you. Not yet. Not now.
He can’t tell you that he used to consider writing reports as the worst part of the job until you came along; until you awarded him a heartfelt, radiant smile when he gave you his; that he noticed how little you smiled outside of artificial ones you fabricate for work purposes; that when he manages to make you smile or laugh genuinely, it feels like a prize, that only he is privy to.
Months ago, he took the resolve to make you smile more; for a while now he started doing his reports more seriously, or even did the ones of Gaz and Ghost, just to have an excuse to see you, to behold the way your face lightens up when he brings you necessary paperwork before you even demand it.
And he certainly can’t tell you about that one time where he handed over his reports in advance, but you weren't there, so he left, heart heavy with disappointment, dragging his feet, until he heard your voice coming from the room he just left.
“What are those?” you questionned your coworker.
“Soap just dropped them.”
“But… I didn't even ask him to yet?”
Perplexity combines with glee in your voice.
“He's a good boy, isn’t he?” prompted your colleague.
You let out a fond, wistful sigh, before responding, half-joking.
“I know! Such a good boy for me.”
Getting to hear you beaming over his benevolent action was already a treat, but witnessing that compromising exchange? To be called a “good boy” by you short-circuited him. He swore - “Steamin jesus” -, ears burning, face on fire, covering it with one hand. He needed to leave badly. Seek refuge in his room, where he could be free to replay that tantalizing line on loop in his mind. “Such a good boy for me.”
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Your heart beats a bit faster than usual as you obediently follow Soap through corridors you’ve never been in before. You trust him with all your heart, but that doesn't change the fact that what you’re doing is against the rules; and those rules aren't high school's, but the ones of a military base.
You flinch hard as a familiar voice screams in your direction.
“SERGEANT MACTAVISH!”
Oops, you think. That's Captain Price, your supervisor, and he sounds pissed. You never witnessed him calling Soap by his last name before, but that being said, you never saw him deal with a kidnapped assistant either.
You've been caught red-handed. 
Your mind begins to come up with plans to lessen the punishments that are without doubt about to descend upon you two, but Johnny grabbing your hand brings you back to reality. 
You lift your gaze to him. He doesn't seem worried at all, if anything… is that a spark of delight in his eye?
He only pronounces one word.
“Run.”
So you run, carried away half by adrenaline, and half by the sergeant dragging you. Thankfully Soap is aware that there's no way you can keep up with him and his training, so he comes to a halt a minute later.
Panting hard, you double over, hands clenching your knees for support, heart thumping in your chest, blood throbbing in your ears.
“Why… are we… running…!?” you manage to exhale. “It's only… gonna make… things worse…”
By your side, he's standing fresh as a daisy, barely ruffled by your flight. The sight would be infuriating if his eyes weren't glinting with amusement and he wasn’t offering you a dazzling smile.
“Because it's fun,” he affirms like it's evident.
Little by little, you catch your breath, throwing Johnny a look that's half in earnest, half in jest.
“More fun for you than for me.”
He doesn't get flustered by your moderate reprimand.
“Is it selfish o' me tae wantae spend more time wi' ye? Didnae want us tae git interrupted yet.”
The line feels like a punch to the chest, stealing the breath you just recovered and leaving you agape.
He takes your hand again with the natural of a well earned habit.
“C'm'on, ah have more than one trick up mah sleeve.”
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You're unsure which of the views unfurling under your eyes is the most magnificent; the sunset in front of you that's painting the sky in shades of pink and orange, or the striking man by your side whose eyes could rival the most astounding sights.
Nibbling on the dinner Soap smuggled out of the cafeteria with too much ease for it to be his first time, you regularly sneak glances at him as he fills the silence with tales of his adventures - the parts that aren't top secret, at least. You two totally did not break onto the roof moments ago, no sir.
Goosebumps travel along your arms and any exposed skin as the night falls and the sun takes away the warmth with him. You furiously brush the outside of your arms for heat, and you're about to suggest finishing this inside, when a jacket lands on your shoulders.
It is still warm with his owner's bodyheat, deliciously so. You curl up and drag it closer, your face on fire. Realizing that Soap gave you his jacket without you even having to ask or complain about the cold… you’re conflicted between obsessing over this like a giggling schoolgirl, and feeling apologetic.
Once you more or less got your blushing under control, you turn to him, displaying a contrite expression.
“I don't want to take your jacket on top of your bed, Johnny.” you pout.
“A'm a bloody furnace. Wanna check?”
He asks, cheekily, even adding a wink for good measure. As if there was any more artifice needed to make you putty in his hands.
He presents you his bare arm for the taking, all golden skin, bulging muscles and a constellation of white scars.
You indulge him and lay a hand on his bicep, knowing he won't relent otherwise; that is definitly the only reason; it has absolutely nothing to do with your own desires.
Indeed, he's burning. As you envy and bask in the heat provided by his body, forgetting that your touch is lingering too long for someone who is just a coworker, he chooses that moment to flex shamelessly, showing off the impressive circumference of his muscle. You feel obligated to squeeze it in response, a way to finally meet him head-on instead of passively enduring his quips, and it feels like reinforced concrete under your fingers.
You fail to hold back your laughter at his facetious demeanor. 
“You're ridiculous.”
The comment holds no bite, a smile brimming with tenderness stretching your lips.
“I'll be the most ridiculous man on the planet if it makes you laugh.”
He's leaning back, hands propped on the ground behind him, head slightly tilted to gaze at you, and the earnestness on his face could almost make you believe his words.
Almost.
But instead a sharp pang pierces your chest, right between your lungs, at heart's level. The smile you return him in spite of yourself oscillates between content and heartbroken, before opting for the latter. 
Tomorrow you will ask him, maybe even plead; tomorrow you'll ask him to put an end to the flirting. You cannot bear it. 
But just tonight, you'll indulge it. You'll pretend to be normal, a well-adjusted human being, instead of a broken shell; you'll act like an adult for who flirting is a regular event and not the mental equivalent of a nuclear bomb.
You abruptly stand up, dusting yourself off, purposely ignoring the newfound lack of understanding on Soap's face and how his mouth opened for a question.
“It's getting late,” you state, not nearly as casually as you'd like. “I'm beat!”
You're running away and you know it; but you never claimed to be brave. Really, it is the best solution for everyone involved, or at least it's how it has always seemed to be your whole life.
He escorts you to his room - of course he does. Even if he already picked up his things earlier to crash on the couch, already showed the place to you.
As you awkwardly face him on the doorstep after saying your goodbyes and your thanks, unable to look away yet incapable of making eye contact, pain flares in your torso thinking of him, somehow intertwined with joy and gratefulness for his existence. Maybe your inner struggle shows on your face because next thing you know, he cups your cheek, forcing you to look up, but as the deranged idea that he's about to kiss you manifests in a remote corner of your mind, your brain swiftly shuts off as his lips make contact with your forehead.
The touch is light yet your entire being seems gathered on that point of contact.
“G'night, bonnie,” he half-whispers, as if to make sure his words exist only for you.
He grants you one last smile, small but so sweet you feel your heart tightens.
“Good night, Johnny,” you manage to articulate before sheltering in his bedroom. The room smells like him.
The moment the door shuts behind you, you rest against it, tilting your head back, letting out a deep sigh. Morbid curiosity pushes you to glance in the adjacent bathroom's mirror, if only to see what you look after this evening. A flustered mess? A sorrowful wreck?
Catching your reflection's eye makes you grimace as you realize an incriminating detail.
You forgot to give Soap his jacket back.
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hyunebunx · 4 months ago
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💛 w/ felix please!!
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˖˙ ᰋ ── 💛- 'a kiss shared during sunset, often romantic and serene'
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﹙ʚɞ˚﹚. genre: fluff!! the fluffiest kind
﹙ʚɞ˚﹚. a/n: i loved writing this sm :( it's a little self indulgent but i still hope you'll like it! thank youu for requesting!! <333
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Sunsets were your absolute favorite.
It might sound cliché or overrated, but witnessing such mesmerizing beauty whenever you were lucky enough to, genuinely made life worth living to an extent other things didn’t. Beauty was in the eye of the beholder but nobody could deny the one of a kind colors and the bright light that was slowly dimming with every minute that passed weren’t painting one of the most gorgeous pictures of them all. Mother Nature herself was the most talented artist after all, her creations admired all over the world by all sorts of people, even the ones who didn’t have a keen eye for the arts in the first place.
Yet somehow, the sunset was even more dazzling now while you were admiring it with Felix, your one and only who everyone was convinced was related to the sun himself.
Lowering your hands, you let the cheap film camera dangle from your wrist casually, the sand warm under you. “I’ve always loved taking pictures of the sky.”
Felix tears his gaze from the ocean, the warm breeze softly ruffling his long blond hair as he smiles. “I know. You never miss a photo opportunity, wiping out your phone and stopping everything we do to get that perfect shot.”
You return his smile, sheepishly, bumping your shoulder into his. “So, you’ve noticed.”
“Of course I have.” He admits like he couldn’t phantom someone not noticing, leaning closer and staring at you in such a way that had you believing he forgot all about the beautiful view in front for a moment. “Because while you’re busy staring at the sky, my eyes only see you.”
Your eyes widen, heat rushing to your face alarmingly as you finally turn to look at him. Wrong move, because the sight of him takes your breath away, especially since you’re close enough to notice every single detail that made Felix who he was. His freckles were not hiding behind any makeup, spilling all over his cheeks like actual constellations – the ones on his eyelids were always your favorite, having taken too many pictures of them to even count now – plump lips naturally pink and still stretched into a faint smile that only pulled you closer by your heartstrings, tugging at them and never really letting go.
The sun was setting, and there were numerous other couples around enjoying the view and the last days of warmth on the beach, but now you could only see him.
“Now you’re just lying to fluster me.” A giggle escapes you, awkward and shy as the beautiful shades of orange begin caressing his side profile, mesmerizing you.
Felix shakes his head instantly. “Why would I?” His hand finds yours on the sand, intertwining your fingers. “People find beauty in different things. So, while you’re enthralled by the sky and all of its colors, I’m bewitched by you and only you.”
Bewitched, like you were some sort of otherworldly being in his eyes, a piece of art deserved to be hung in a museum in its own separate section, surrounded by security 24/7.
You’ve never doubted Felix’s love for you but at the same time, you had no idea he regarded you so highly, in the same way you did him.
Without a second thought, you lean over and plant a lingering kiss on his cheek, feeling his smile widen before you get the chance to pull away, happiness radiating off of him.
“Sure, the sky is beautiful.” You nod, a little tongue-tied and emotional by his previous statement. “But there’s something I love capturing in pictures even more.”
His brows furrow, turning his whole mind upside down in search of the answer he’s looking for, sure you’ve told him about this before. There was no way he wouldn’t remember.
You reach to smooth out the skin and stop him from stressing. Felix beams in response, catching your fingers and bringing them to his mouth to kiss one by one.
The waves were crashing against the shore, bringing a rare serenity you and Felix could never get enough of as the sun seemed to pause its descent to also witness your love, giving you a few more moments of light.
“The moon?” He tries, thoughtful while bringing your hand to his chest.
You shake your head and almost close the distance between you to whisper. “You.”
Then, you kiss him, tenderly and softly like you’re afraid once you pull back and open your eyes he will disappear like he was nothing more than a fragment of your own imagination. Or a ray of sunshine personified whose time ran out and he needed to hurry home and be among his people, to allow the moon to take front stage.
Felix holds your hands like he feels the same, not believing someone like you was actually real and bothered to give him the time of day.
There is no rush or desperation, just two people who love each other like it wasn’t the first time, like they somehow met before in a past life and were separated by the cruel passing of time. Like soulmates destined to find each other over and over again, guided by the red string of fate that never tore no matter how far apart your paths were, or what obstacles dared to stand in your way.
When you pull away, he chases after you, pecking your lips repeatedly until he’s satisfied. But he doesn’t seem to get enough, deepening the kiss at the last second while pulling you even closer as he wraps an arm around your shoulders to feel you near.
The sun is almost gone when you come back for air, forehead resting against your lover’s as you both break into the biggest smiles, delighted to be together and make even more memories.
And for once in your life, you don’t mind missing a sunset for you found an even more beautiful view. 
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raginglesbian2006 · 11 months ago
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Hihi!
I enjoy your fics and I was wondering if I could request Alastor x reader where the reader paints Alastor's nails? Maybe reader paints their nails and wants to match with Alastor? Thanks for writing cool fics!
omg this is so good
Self-care day
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"I declare today as self-care day!"
Every hotel resident looked at you with dumbfounded looks on their faces as they sat in front of you on the couch. Charlie cheered from the corner.
Angel Dust, someone you'd grown close to during your stay at the infamous hotel, rose up from his seat and said, "Ya heard her. It's self-care day. Shut your traps and get movin'!" You looked up at him with a grateful sigh.
You had joined this hotel when the extermination had been moved up. You were doing fine till then but panicked when you heard the news and immediately took shelter in the confines of the Hazbin Hotel. Much to your fortune, you were accepted immediately- by Charlie and Vaggie that is. Others...well...they took some time. But you made friends anyway!
Well... you couldn't call Alastor, your friend. He was more of an acquaintance...of sorts. A menacing smile you saw from time to time wander around the hotel. He managed to spook you a couple of times by randomly appearing behind you and greeting you with a loud and boisterous laugh. You almost fell down the stairs and cracked your skull open once, had it not been for Alastor's shadows preventing you from losing your balance.
"Now my dear, death at the bottom of the stairs of this fine establishment won't do well for its name, now, would it? What would the papers say?"
After the great war between the demons and the angelic exterminators and losing one of the best souls that had graced this hotel; everyone helped rebuild it to its former glory. Scratch that. It was more glorious than before.
So a day after, you had suggested to Charlie that everyone working at the hotel should deserve some rest. Quality time with themselves, if you will. Of course, Charlie was all in.
This is what led to you proudly presenting your idea in front of the denizens of hell residing in the hotel, including the literal king of hell. Alastor was nowhere to be seen as usual. He usually disappeared when called for hotel "activities" which he deemed "a waste of time."
Oh well.
At least your idea seemed to be going well for now.
Angel had pushed Husk and pestered him to let him comb his fur. He pinky promised not to make any sex jokes for an entire week if he let him do it. Husk eventually gave in which made Angel squeal in joy.
Charlie had put cucumber slices on Niffty's eyes since she refused to sit still and enjoy the face massage she had recommended. Needless to say, the little she-devil walked around the hotel lobby, with her eyes covered by cucumbers, bumping into the pillars again and again.
"Yay! Pain!" Niffty exclaimed, gleefully. Well, at least she was enjoying it.
Lucifer was teaching Charlie how to prune Vaggie's newfound wings. He was very particular with how it should be done and carefully guided Charlie through it. You absolutely loved to see them bonding.
You, on the other hand, were painting your nails. You'd noticed Alastor's claws before. You really liked the way they shone against the light. So thus, you'd resolved to paint your nails a bright red, like his claws were. Whilst you were amid your manicure, you heard the telltale static noise that announced Alastor's arrival wherever he went.
You watched as Alastor walked in through the doors of the hotel and stopped to see everyone, either on the ground or on the couch, indulging in some well-deserved self-care.
"Ah, I see you all are still not done with your... shenanigans, hm?"
Charlie gleefully said, "Al! Come join us! It's self-care day!"
Alastor let out a staticky sigh, "No my dear, as much as I would love to participate, I have better things to do." Charlie frowned but she expected this behavior from him.
Alastor was about to leave when suddenly Lucifer chimed in nonchalantly, "Maybe he's scared."
A sickening crack was heard. Alastor swiftly turned his head towards the king of hell, who was busy brushing his future daughter-in-law's wings.
"WHAT. DID. YOU. SAY?" Alastor's radio static rose significantly.
"I said," Lucifer emphasized, "Maybe you are just scared of a little massage... afraid of nail clippers. Oooh! nail polish, the sheer absolute horror!"
You chuckled at his theatrics and so did the rest of the hotel. Oh, but Alastor was not amused in the slightest. If looks could kill, Lucifer's head would be on a stick by now with the rest of his body torn to shreds.
"I can assure you, Your Majesty," Alastor's voice crackled, "I am not scared of the frivolous habits you indulge in."
"Oh?" Lucifer's smirk widened, "Prove it."
No one spoke except for Angel Dust, who whilst combing Husk's fur yelled out, "DRAMA."
You felt the air around you tense up. Alastor's grin widened even more, but you could feel it was his annoyance peaking at the king's suggestion.
Without a word, the tall deer demon started walking towards your direction.
Wait....that can't be right. Why is he walking towards you!?
Your eyes widened as he sat down right in front of you, on the ground, might I add, and spoke verbatim, "Now, would you be a dear and help paint my claws? Apparently I need to prove to that ditzy demon everyone calls "the king of hell" that I am not afraid of such puny little luxuries"
Your mouth moved once, without saying anything and then it moved again. You were basically looking at him like he'd grown seven heads.
Alastor's grin remained, "Chop chop now, my dear. My time is quite precious."
You nodded, unsure of what to do next.
"W-what color would you like for your claws to be painted, Alastor? " you spoke, trying to control your trembling, as you showed him your collection.
The demon hummed and chose a black nail polish. You took it from his hands and started painting his claws. If someone told you that one day you would be giving the radio demon a manicure, you'd have laughed at their face.
And look at you now, on the ground with the radio demon, painting his claws.
You expected him to be fussy with all this but he was surprisingly quite relaxed. He let you paint his claws with utmost sincerity and did not utter a word, the only sound coming from him being the eerie static.
This was quite unnatural of him. Not talking at all, that is. He is quite chatty almost all the time. You had to admit, it was nice to see this side of him.
You were so engrossed in your work that you did not notice that Alastor had asked you something.
"Sorry...can you repeat that again, please?"
Alastor reiterated, " Oh I just took notice of the color you chose to paint your nails."
You chuckled, "Ah well, I was inspired by the way your claws look naturally! They shine oh so wonderfully in the light. Red really suits you, you know."
He said nothing, except a hum and you resumed your work.
After the end of the little self-care day you'd arranged, you could see everyone look quite happy and relaxed. You smiled. You felt that you had accomplished something great and contributed to the smooth running of this establishment.
While you were feeling satisfied with yourself, you heard a pop behind you and there stood Alastor, with his newly painted claws.
"Hi! Do you like how it looks?" you asked.
"It is wonderful, my dear. I quite like the color. Thank you for indulging me," he replied, putting his hand on your shoulder.
Your face turned red under his gaze as you quickly looked away, "You know me, always up for helping my friends! Well, you must be busy. Let me not hold you up for long, byeeeee." Saying this, you rushed out of the lobby, away from his sight.
Alastor's mind lingered on one little thing you said.
"Friend...," he wondered loudly. He quite liked the sound of that.
A/N: Sorry for taking so long to reply to this. I hope you enjoy it!
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moonstruckme · 1 year ago
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hi! i hope you're having a good day<3 i was wondering if you could write a remus x fem!reader where they aren't really dating but everyone knows they like each other (them included) where r has kinda mean friends? like, they leave her out of everything and she constantly feels bad about it. and ever time she tells remus he's like "you should drop them, you deserve better" and he's just trying to get her to see that she deserves better?
Thank you <3
modern au
Remus Lupin x fem!reader ♡ 736 words
Remus can feel a heaviness building where you sit on the couch next to him. 
He lets his eyes slide subtly in your direction, and you’re frowning at your phone. Not an upset frown, no pursed lips or drawn brows, just a slight downturn of the corners of your mouth. You look defeated, and Remus can’t abide it. 
“Everything alright, love?”
Predictably, you soften like butter at the endearment, and your expression as you turn to him is kind if not happy. “Yeah, I’m good,” you say, and Remus pretends not to know it’s a lie. He waits. Your eyes drop to his shoulder, one thumbnail picking at the other distractedly. “I just wish…I wish that if my friends were going to hang out without me, they’d at least not post so much about it.” 
A familiar ache starts up in his chest. “Oh no. What’ve they done?” 
You shrug like it’s little to you, but he sees the way you press your lips together, the faint redness creeping up from your neck. He hopes you don’t cry, if only to spare his delicate heart. 
“They’re all at Hannah’s place, I guess. Going to go see the new movie premiere.” You laugh. It sounds raw. “I actually asked them if they wanted to go do that tonight, and they all said they were busy.” 
The frailty of your voice works like glass shards, cleaving Remus clean open. “Darling,” he says, and he doesn’t care that you’re not official enough to acknowledge the endearment in its full capacity. You both know he means it well enough. His hand slides atop yours the way one tempers one ingredient by adding a tiny bit of another before the rest. You soften at his touch, and Remus goes all the way, curling his arms under yours to give your back a firm squeeze. “I know you’re sick of hearing it from me, but they really don’t deserve you.” 
A tiny drop of warm wetness slides from your face to his shirt. His own fault, really, but if a good cry is what you need he’s ready to indulge you. “I just want to know what it is about me that makes me so terrible to be around,” you weep, and Remus crushes you to his front unthinkingly, a protective ire swelling within him. He wishes he could go to your friend’s house and give these girls a talking-to right now, but you probably wouldn’t thank him for it. He settles for dragging his palm up and down your back, hip to shoulder and back again. 
“Don’t say that,” he pleads with you. 
“I know, I’m sorry.” Your sigh is a stilted, shuddering thing. “I’m putting you in an awful position. I don’t mean to fish for compliments.” 
“I know,” he promises, his hand stopping where Remus can feel your heart beating through the material of your shirt. “And I’m not saying it out of any sense of obligation, but you really are lovely to be around. I mean” —he pulls back so you can see his face, hoping the sincerity in it will make some headway against your self-doubt— “would I be here if you weren’t?”
You give him a small smile, thin-lipped. “You’re very nice.” 
Remus laughs, wrapping his fingers around your upper arms and barely restraining himself from trying to shake some sense into you. “I’m not that nice. But okay, Sirius would never hang around anyone he didn’t actually like, can we agree there?” He takes your silence for acquiescence, and, with a gentle smile, goes on. “Every one of our friends sees how kind, and smart, and lovely you are. They” —he shoots a pointed look at your phone— “are the only ones who don’t. That’s how I know you’re not the problem, sweetheart,” he says, softer now. “They are.” 
You look him in the eyes as you take a deep breath. This one goes in and out steadier than the last, and some of the tension in his own chest eases. “Thank you,” you tell him. 
Remus can’t help himself; he pulls you in for another hug, selfish to his core. “No thanks necessary,” he says firmly.
“I guess the only thing to do,” you say, voice muffled against his shoulder, “is to stop trying to make plans with them and hang out exclusively with you.” 
Remus laughs. He doesn’t hate the sound of that.
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karasu4life · 1 month ago
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Pic creds: floreaii on Pinterest
Sae Itoshi x Spanish reader, I guess... It's kinda short, not a full story but more like a little self indulgent
I can do a second part hehehehehehehbwhehedbd if y'all like slowburn
Not proofread... At all... 1.3k (eugh I need a word counter instead of a character counter)
First post
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Sae was finally getting comfortable in this new country, after being alone for so long. Without his parents, his little brother, or anyone to keep him company during the endless stretches of free time that had slowly dwindled into nothing. Sae dedicated his entire life to football. Football, and only football. To be the best... Striker? He wasn’t even sure anymore. He should know. He was Japan's prodigy, after all.
Every day was a relentless pursuit of improvement, every second accounted for. So the fact that studying was mandatory in Spain—something he couldn't escape—was like a thorn in his side.
He had arrived at thirteen, just in time to be thrust into "primero de la ESO," the first year of high school. Now, at fifteen, he was in tercero. The years blurred together, marked only by training and the occasional match. Classes? They were background noise.
Sae glanced at his grades, printed neatly on the paper he held. Around him, his classmates were a cacophony of shouts—some celebrating, others wailing in despair.
Ah. PE.
It was the only subject where his scores shone. The rest? A mix of pity passes and resigned teachers. He folded the paper, tucked it into his backpack, and waited for the bell. Recess, or recreo, meant thirty minutes of freedom. Normally, he would spend it playing football, but today, he didn’t feel like it.
When the bell finally rang, the classroom erupted into chaos. Chairs screeched, voices overlapped, and footsteps thundered toward the door. Everyone scattered, eager for their break—everyone except one person.
You.
You were fumbling with your backpack, struggling to fix your hair while trying to retrieve your lunch. Sae watched as you sighed, frustration evident on your face.
"Me han gastado la misma broma… otra vez." Your voice was quiet, resigned.
You stood up, leaving your things behind. It wasn’t the first time Sae had seen this. The so-called friends you surrounded yourself with were more like hyenas, always pulling these "jokes." Was that considered bullying or just friendly bantering? He wasn’t sure, and he didn’t care to label it. All he knew was that you didn’t deserve it at all.
Before he realized what he was doing, he was already on his feet, moving towards you. His body acted on instinct, though his mind questioned why. Sae wasn’t one to meddle. He didn’t really care for people. Yet here he was, holding out his lunchbox in your direction.
You blinked, startled, your eyes flicking from the lunchbox to his face.
"Eh?"
"Yo puedo quedarme con… contigo en el, how do you say it, recreo." His Spanish was stilted, awkward, and the furrow in his brow deepened as he stumbled over the words.
A giggle unintentionally escaped your lips before you could stop it. His frown deepened even more, and you quickly cleared your throat, trying to compose yourself.
"Ah, ¡claro! Uh, I mean… I'll put my English classes to good use. Of course you can stay with me! Or, eh, I can stay with you…"
Sae gave a curt nod and turned toward the door. You scrambled to grab your things, trailing after him like a lost puppy.
He didn’t say much as you walked, his expression unreadable. But you didn’t mind.
You never found the perfect wave of words to describe this boy, man, guy, dude, whatever. He was someone admirable to say less. You would always go to his matches, sneaking out of your group of friends just to see him play. You could call them your comfort space, a place where there was no one except you, your thoughts and Sae. The fact that he was someone cold attracted you, making you too curious for your own good. You wanted to get to know him without being brushed off like the rest of people who tried to talk with him.
Qué sorpresa.
Sae found the perfect wave of words to describe you. Someone annoying, very much talkative, sometimes wanting to look cool but failing miserably to the point where you don't even try anymore and just start being yourself. The fact that you took the time to try to fit in, even if you were from this same country, made him want to know more about you. Why would you do that? He couldn’t understand why you bothered pretending to do so when you were clearly better off alone. But maybe that’s what made you different from him. Maybe you weren't afraid of trying, even if it meant failing. Sae didn't try. He didn't let himself fail. He wanted to know why you did.
How surprising.
You found a spot under the shade of a tree, just far enough from the chaos of the football field. The moment you sat down, a ball went flying towards your head.
You saw your whole life flash by in 5 seconds, which was how long it took Sae to react by stopping the ball with his foot and sending it back into the field, startling the group of boys who had sent it flying in the first place.
"¿Seriously?" Sae muttered, his tone dripping with irritation as he sat down and opened his lunchbox.
You stared at him, still processing what had just happened.
"Do you attract bad luck, by any chance?" he asked, his gaze flicking to you briefly before focusing on his food.
"As far as I know… no?" You frowned, though his question made you think. Were you really a magnet for bad luck? Then something caught your eye: his lunch.
"You didn’t bring un bocata!"
Sae looked up, confused. “Un what?”
"¡Bocata!" you repeated.
"…Bocado?"
"No, bocata. Like… sandwich? Bocadillo?" You gestured dramatically, as if miming the shape of a sandwich would help him understand.
"Ah. Right. That." He looked down at his neatly packed lunch—rice, chicken, and vegetables arranged with military precision. "No."
You gasped, placing a hand on your chest as if he had offended the entire nation.
"¿Cómo que no?"
"¿Cómo que sí?" he shot back, his tone flat but carrying the faintest hint of amusement.
"That sentence doesn't even make sense!"—you retorted—"Do you do anything else except playing football?"
"Do you do anything else except watching people playing football?" Your jaw dropped. So, he had noticed. All those times you thought you’d been sneaky, hiding in the bleachers or at the edge of the field—he’d known.
Maybe you were too bored, didn't you have a home?
You were startled. Shutting up and fixing your hair again, uselessly putting some strands behind your ear that decided to go to their initial position. You struggled opening your backpack, Sae was interested.
What was today's prank?
"They put glue on the, this," you pointed at the zipper with a slight frown "the cremallera. Eh, zip-zip."
"Maybe you should do something about it." the boy in front of you took the backpack, forcing it open. It broke the zipper but at least you had your maravilloso bocata.
"Gracias! Eh, ah, quiero decir, no, wait, I mean thank you!"
You both smiled, even though his was almost unnoticeable... Heh... You could say you were special.
It didn't last a bit, too.
Sae had noticed many stupid habits you had. Fixing your hair when you were nervous, hiding every time the teacher asked something because you didn't like being picked, how you only put effort into the things that interested you... That's something both of you had in common.
But, the stupidest one by far was how you didn't face your so-called friends when they did things like this.
"You should report them." said the redhead, bringing a munch of rice to his mouth. "Are these really just jokes?"
"Bueno... I mean, well. It's not that bad. The worst thing they've done to me is when I decided to get too silly in a call where they took 12 screenshots to make them stickers."
You took a big bite off your bocata, looking at Sae. Sae stared back.
...
"I want to feel sorry for you but you make it impossible."
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Pspspsps is it ooc
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tanoraqui · 2 months ago
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now that this fic is all published, I can ramble about the things that happen afterward in the timeline! Feel SO free to ask about anything you want more details of.
First off, all three posts about Dave the Balrog are 100% canon to this au, except for where they sometimes contradict the fic's worldbuilding or plot bc I hadn't settled on every detail yet. Also, Dave’s name is probably more like “Drav”, from the Sindarin “drava-”, “to hew.”
That happens much later, though - about 1980 TA. FIRST, immediately, as Celebrimbor says: it's time to save the orcs!
That is, wildly self-indulgent crossover with @ceescedasticity's fic(verse) elves, once, which isn't 100% my headcanon for orcs but it's essentially canon for this au because it makes everything VERY FUNNY in a tragic irony way. I've thought about this so much that it really deserves its own bullet-point post, but highlights include:
- Annatar attempts to conceal the fact that Curufin and Celegorm are orcs, and, y'know, have been since they died. This works until Celebrimbor identifies a bunch of the orc army's weapons as made by his father, even if the style is strange and fell, and the two of the have a HUGE fight in front of representatives of every Elvish kingdom in Middle Earth and most of an army of orcs.
- Bellow/Turgon is having the single strangest, most uncomfortable road trip of his life, and he counts the crossing of the Helcaraxë in that total.
- Turgon tries to convince Galadriel to take Celebrían and Elrond and get out of here, because inevitably this must be a cruel trick and all the orcs will be forced to turn on all the Elves. Galadriel is like, "Honestly, I've been watching Celebrimbor's slow corruption and Sauron's slower un-corruption for about 2,000 years now, and I think we actually have a shot at this. Also, bold of you to assume you can beat me in a fight."
- Curufin and Celegorm had BOOKED IT when Annatar's summoning-compulsion snapped, on the reasonable assumption that any plan the Dark Lord had for them + Celebrimbor could only be cruel to the extreme...so Celebrimbor and Annatar go on a bonus road trip to retrieve them.
- Everyone meets up by the Sea again, but instead of taking (or, obeying) the offer of escape into Ulmo's hands, Turgon and probably a bunch of other orcs volunteer to come help break the Crucible. They Deserve This.
- In the end, as usual, the day is ultimately saved - as are the souls of thousands of trapped elves - by the power of love and overwhelming violence.
AND THEN...
Celebrimbor & Annatar don't actually rebuild Ost-in-Edhil and Eregion as they were. Those days are over, and also the surviving Númenoreans kinda...regard Annatar as Absolute Evil, for some mysterious reason. And those who knew about the whole or even partial conspiracy - namely Tar-Miriel herself - aren't too keen on Celebrimbor, either.
They leave whoever wants to stay and rebuild in Eregion, leadership tbd based on the traditional system of craft-based meritocracy, and take a few decades off to lay low from geopolitics, work on their marriage, and for Celebrimbor to learn a little bit of necromancy so he can manipulate his own fëa and hröa, thank you very much.
They stay with the Witch-Queen of Calador for a while, discreetly because officially that kingdom is also not on good terms with its “former” evil-ish overlord. (The Witch-Queen of Calador and her not really sane, almost certainly unsafe, but arguably consensual relationship with Annatar really deserves her own post, too. She’s my favorite OC of this au. She really loves bats.)
Elrond & Celebrían get married! Elrond always knew his wedding would have to involve stopping drunken brawls from erupting between people who love him but hate each other, but he’d assumed it’d be Iathrim and Fëanorians, not an elderly Queen Miriel going for Annatar’s eyes with a butter knife.
Annatar regards the birth of Elrohir and Elladan with some concern, this alarming lineage now augmented by the blood of Arafinwë (cut off Melkor’s foot) and Galadriel (Melian’s pupil, hates him). But that’s nothing to how freaked out he is by Arwen, who is such an obvious Reprise of Lúthien that it’s now CLEAR that this was all a Melian scheme to assault him, personally.
He can’t just kill her now—Elrond and Galadriel and both right here, not to mention Celebrimbor. And then she’d absolutely be his enemy when she Returned… No, the only solution is to stay in Imladris for a while and become her most beloved uncle whom she would not dream of assaulting, whom she could not bring herself to injure even if circumstance and conscience forced her hand. Love has ever been the undoing of Melian’s line. The Reprise is obvious, but not so established that he cannot twist it into irony, Lúthien’s heir as his devoted student and companion rather than foe.
[smash cut to late 3rd Age Annatar watching the Music settle into place as Arwen interacts with the newest, currently toddling scion of the House of Elendil and nearly killing the child right then because no, no, thats not how this was supposed to Reprise—that’s his jewel of an elf-queen, Singer and trade-manipulator and niece, and he’s going to lose her forever? Killing the brat won’t even work, that would only make her follow him sooner, one way or another—]
Celebrimbor doesn’t want to build a city (and have his heart broken by the loss of the city) again, but he very much does want to ImproveThe World, and also to Make Things With His Hands. So he and Annatar, and whoever of the Gwaith-i-Mírdain wish to join them, set about… “Traveling” is too loose a term; just because they’re not city-building doesn’t mean anyone here wants to live on the road. They need workshops, forges, and ideally a maia-sized cat tree tall tower from which to survey their domain. They are a highly skilled work crew/technical, artistic & management consultants who change cities every 5-200 years, throughout Middle Earth and perhaps even other continents.
This what Celebrimbor and Annatar do, for most of the rest of their time in Middle Earth. A few of the Mírdain travel with them all the time. Others strike out on their own, or in similar small groups. Others stay in rebuilt Ost-in-Edhil, or Rivendell or the Havens or another Elvish kingdom, and come lend a hand when their particular talents are called for. Everyone who “died” in Númenor and was “resuscitated” by Annatar walked away with a strengthened, basically permanent osanwë connection to the simulated workshop group chat, which they’re aware of, and a location tracker and fëa-stamp saying “PROPERTY OF MAIRON, FUCK AROUND AND YOU WILL FIND OUT” which only an Ainu could detect.
They're the mysterious stranger(s) who accept an offer of hospitality on a stormy night and reward you with a magic ring that blesses your farm with fecundity. They arrive in a city in the middle of a cholera outbreak and inform the local rulers that they're here to overhaul the whole wells & sewers system in exchange for room and board; no, the local rulers do not get a choice in this. One time they do oust an evil ruling dynasty and just kinda take over the kingdom for a few centuries, but then Celebrimbor starts to get paranoid of his own growing attachment so Annatar reluctantly agrees to find and raise some honorable candidate for kingship [gender-neutral]. One of the Mírdain with them says, what about the choice of the people? And then after a lot of discussion, partly in collaboration with their local Men, they write up and seal with Power a Constitution that establishes an oversight body of political, economic, craft and etc. experts to oversee and have veto power over popular elections to kingship from a slate of candidates chosen by the current/soon-to-be previous king, on a strict thirty-year schedule. There, that should stabilize the whole messy business of mortal succession!
Also, 1300 years or so into the Third Age when this version of Gondor hits its equivalent of the Kin-Strife, Annatar takes advantage of its weakness to initiate a plan he's been contemplating for a while, especially while gaining local insight into a variety of nation-states and their management, and returns to Oroduin to forge what may he his last Great Work...a new standard of currency.
It’s called, in the common tongue developing from Adúnaic and Sindarin, the “mira”, pl. “miran”, from Quenya “mírë” (“jewel, precious thing). Where pettier currencies are based in gold or silver or the might of some particular empire, these hold value Because a Great Maia Said So—indeed, Sang So, Sang a new line into the Great Music that these coins would always have a value of…whatever he said so, if he updated a petty lyric or two of their Song. Those who use the coins don’t need to know this; they simply intuit, with coins in hand, what they are worth.
(You can lead even the mightiest empire by the nose if you control the price of grain alone, much less other commodities, or one currency relative to another. Each minute adjustment takes Power, especially to shift the natural balance of multiple interlocking goods…but Annatar is a master of the perfectly placed lever with which to shift the world.)
Maybe at some point the Valar are like, “okay, I think they don’t irrationally hate us anymore, I think this could work” and send a small group of Maiar to openly, humbly approach Annatar and Celebrimbor and ask if they might be apprentices in the craft of…whatever the fuck is happening here. Or maybe something adjacent, because Pallandro and Alatar would really like to fuck off into those excellent looking woods and hunt the remnants of Ungoliant’s spawn, and Radagast actually wandered away 5 minutes ago to talk to a bird. He’s gonna be a while. But Curumo and Olórin are listening politely!
…Or maybe not. Maybe it’s just the Jewelsmiths, slowly becoming folklore, bettering the world (and manipulating wide-scale economics) one stone at a time. (They’d still be the “Jewelsmiths” anyway, even if they included those who, in another universe, were called “The Wise.”)
As stated in the third Dave the Balrog post, they do Sail eventually, several centuries after Arwen’s death. Celebrimbor just gets tired, and Annatar can’t fix it. Ossë spends the whole voyage backstroking next to their ship and sarcastically quoting Annatar back at himself, Years of the Trees insults about being made weak and pathetic by love, until Annatar nearly lunges over the side as a wolf to tear his throat out.
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quantum1mmortality · 1 year ago
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Just read some of your stuff, absolutely BEAUTIFUL I might add. Can you sfw/nsfw headcanons do the Lin Kuei boys with a super social gal? Like she’s all energetic and is HUGE on the PDA? Can she also have big titties? (Totally not self projecting or anything)
Tumblr is still being mean and not letting me edit drafts ugh so this is probably gonna be really bad srry
Tw/cw: afab reader, jealous bi han, toxic bi han? he's his own warning guys, kind of just scenarios and not hcs, still hcs tho I cannot deny you all of that, WRITING THIS AFTER I WROTE EVERYTHING AND I FORGOT THE PDA PART IN BI HANS FORGIVE ME ANON, boobs galore, Kuai being a tit guy, I literally hate this so fucking much
Not proofread fuck you
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Bi han
Sfw
Wouldn't admit it, but he finds you adorable.
The way you're the complete opposite of him makes his heart melt.
You practically do all the talking in your relationship while Bi Han silently observes and listens.
When you're out together, he mainly stays beside you as you lead him everywhere.
He finds your ability to quickly make friends amazing, considering he was never able to do that(skill issue).
He can't help but smile when he sees you talk so kindly to everyone, whether you know them or not.
He usually wears his mask when you two are together because of this.
You'd most definitely be the person in the relationship to say "excuse me, he asked for no pickles", mainly because he'd refuse to send his food back because a meal is a meal.
Nsfw
Cool, calm, collected. That's what Bi Han likes to describe himself as. But it's much different when it comes to you.
My god, does this man love tight shirts. It doesn't matter what color, what time of the day, if youre wearing one, he's in the mood.
And he hates how much power you have over him.
He hates when you wear tight clothes in public, too. Mainly because it's extremely hard for him to control himself.
He sees how well you get along with others, how people stare at you with nothing but admiration, and he can't help but feel jealous.
More jealous than he'd like to admit.
Bi Han thinks that he should only be the one staring at you, that he's the only person who can give you the love you deserve.
He'd occasionally see other men staring, looking at your curves and the smile that Bi Han loves so dearly.
He hates the amount of jealousy that pulses through him, clenching his fists tightly as he tries his hardest to keep his composure.
When you get home however, he's showing you just how much he loves you, deserves you, needs you.
He can't help his hands from wandering your body, taking in every curve and relishing in just how beautiful you are.
He'd whisper praise as he kisses and nibbles lightly on your neck, cupping your breasts as a gasp escapes your lips.
You could feel the tent in his pants as he began grinding against your inner thighs, desperately calling out your name as he continues.
His breathing is heavy, fanning your neck as his teeth sank into your shoulder.
A surprised yelp escapes your breath as you can now feel his breath hitting your ear.
"Look what you do to me, you'll have to help me with this, you know."
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Kuai Liang
Sfw
He'd absolutely love seeing you socialize with others.
He'd love the way you can strike up a conversation with anyone and just turn such a bad mood into a light hearted one.
He completely commends your social skills and practically can't go anywhere without you.
Kuai Liang himself would most likely indulge in PDA on his own, so if you initiate, he isn't going to stop you.
He loves holding your hand in public, he loves making people know that he's with you.
He'll also kiss you in public, but not often. Like, at all. He prefers to keep something like that private.
But if you insist, he can't really deny you.
Nsfw
Two words: staring problem.
This man can NOT keep his eyes off you.
Seriously, who decided you can be THAT fine? He genuinely can't stand it.
He's in love with all of your curves, and he LOVES your breasts.
He genuinely can't help wanting to nap on them. Theyre big and soft, can you really blame him?
Kuai Liang would just, touch them. All the time. No warning, he'd walk up to you and just palm them.
Oftentimes, this leads into other things. Kuai is generally just a big fan of titties. Any size, any shape, any color, if you have them, he loves them.
So, he's a professional titty sucker. Willingly.
Kuai genuinely does feel comfort in bringing you pleasure, and if you both get pleasure from doing something, he's all for it.
But if you want to make a night all about him? He's more than excited.
He'd absolutely have you tit fuck him.
He kind of doesn't even get pleasure from the actual feeling, he mainly gets off to how you look during it.
If he was going to be completely honest, seeing you topless and pressing your breasts around his cock is so much more pleasurable than most things.
He'd be a complete mess while watching you, he'd grip the sheets in his hands tightly as he watches his cock disappear and come back through your breasts.
He whimpers as you begin to place kitten licks on his tip, hissing as his grip on the sheets tighten.
Seeing you like this never fails to turn him on quickly, anything that involves you turns him on, but that's not something he'd admit.
"Y/n- please,, let me cum already~"
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Tomas
Sfw
Oh my god.
This man would be OBSESSED with you.
You're pretty AND social? He might as well propose immediately.
He's constantly around you, literally never leaving you alone, especially not in public.
If Tomas has to go into a public setting and he can't bring you, he isn't coming.
To him, you're like an emotional support person. You're usually the person who starts conversations for him, and he genuinely doesn't know what he'd do without you.
He loves how kind and naturally nurturing you are, the smiles he sees on other peoples faces simply because of you is something that has made him more happy than he's willing to admit.
Nsfw
STARING PROBLEM but worse.
Tomas is genuinely insufferable when it comes to your body.
Since he practically worships the ground you walk on, he worships your body even more.
If you were to ask him for literally anything, no matter what it is, he'd do it for you, but he has weaknesses.
If you were to ask him for something while batting your eyelashes, he'd simply stop working.
Because of this, sex with him usually results in him being a bottom.
Yeah, I know, it's practically cliche at this point to make Tomas a bottom, but have you SEEN him?
That man is on his knees day and night trying to please you.
He'd usually have you ride him as one hand would be on your waist while the other is firmly holding one of your breasts.
Sometimes he gets too in the moment and holds both of them, but can you really blame him?
Hes entranced to say the least. They're big, soft, warm, how could he not want to hold them constantly?
Even just touching them is enough to get him off.
His head would be thrown back is pleasure as his grip on you tightens, moaning out your name as he bucks his hips upward.
"Shit- hah,, y/n~ I'm so- ngh, close~"
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Might disappear and never post again wouldn't that be fucking funny
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haikyu-mp4 · 9 months ago
Text
To deserve you
warning! reader is feeling “fat”. I had a discussion with a friend about how a lot of people only associate feeling fat with feeling ugly and wanted to write a self-indulgent comfort piece that didn’t do that.
word count; 538 – f!reader, originally wrote this for Kirishima (mha)
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Bokuto had never looked this insulted before, and you weren’t sure if you should laugh or cry.
It started when he got home from practice, quickly coming into the bedroom to kiss you before he planned on showering. It was date night, so he had to get ready quickly. “It’s the one that matches my hair! I love it!” He whistled when he saw you standing in front of the mirror in a gorgeous silver dress, eyes taking their sweet time appreciating your body before meeting your eyes. Or at least he tried to meet your eyes, but you looked insistently at the wall behind the mirror with a light frown.
Bokuto looped his arms around you and kissed your neck and shoulder, but was left blinking unsurely when you awkwardly loosened his grip and removed his hands. “Are you ready, baby? Do you need anything?”
“I think maybe we shouldn’t go out tonight. I’m not feeling well,” you say, turning around to face him.
“Baby? What’s wrong, are you sick?”
“I just feel like I’m-“ your voice cracks slightly as you look over your shoulder at the mirror. Your fiance was known for his thick muscles and well-maintained physique, and today you just felt like everyone probably thought he deserved better than you. “I’m too fat.”
“For what?”
“For you.”
There it was, the most insulted you had ever seen him look. He frowned and puffed out his chest. “For me? Do you think I’m weak? Not manly enough for such a perfect woman? Is my love not unshakeable enough?”
He leaned closer as his hair seemed to droop on his head. There was a hint of playfulness in his questions, but you could still see that he was hurt by your words. However, you knew you were entitled to feeling this way and this was not the time for you to comfort him. It made you sigh. “Kou...“
You often spent time comforting and assuring him, and now it was his turn. Bokuto took a deep breath and pulled himself together, moving his hands to hold you again, slowly so you could deny him if you wanted to. You didn’t. “If you want to join me for some workouts or change our meal plan to feel better, I’ll follow you every step of the way, but there is no way for you to be too much of anything for me. There is literally no part of you that I don’t find insanely attractive. I work hard every day to deserve you.”
At first, you were letting out small giggles as his touches smoothed over your curves when you finally allowed him to, but as he kept talking, you were left staring at him in awe. He finally wrapped those strong arms around you, making you flustered enough to hide in his chest and sink into his comforting warmth. “I love you. You’re the man of my dreams.”
“I love you too.” He lifted your hand and pressed an affectionate kiss on the back of it, then the top of your head. Bokuto will remind you every day how perfect you are to him if that’s what it takes. “Being loved by you is my proudest achievement.”
masterlist
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abandonedpost · 3 months ago
Text
My Highest Worldly Bliss: Chapter One
@electronix-arts @traumatizedartist @sock-man37 @confettiiz @poltergeist-bunn (just tagging everyone who expressed some interest in the teaser — thank you so much by the way, I really appreciate it!)
Hi everyone! I know the poll isn’t technically over yet, but most people thus far voted for me to upload chapter one to Tumblr today, and had I waited… well “today” would’ve been over lol.
Here’s chapter one of my very first fic! Haha i feel so self-indulgent. Feel free to let me know what you think and give some feedback. Excuse the formatting issues! I’m new to this 🥲 Read it under the cut 👇🏼👇🏼
Soft white eyes met a glimmering violet glow.
And he knew, in earnest then, that he would never be the same.
——
Dawn broke over the horizon of Copper-9. The nearby sound of drilling overpowered Khan’s senses as he blinked sleep out of his eyes. The day greeted him like any other, with a sly grin and slap to the face. A long day in the shafts lay ahead.
He was never fully content living a life of servitude. The human masters had made his kind to mine their exoplanets, so each day, they would dig their way further through the bedrock, dust and hot air hanging heavy around them until it clogged their sensors and slicked their hair back. Yet the drone always longed for more: a life of his own; freedom from the shackles that kept him bound to the colliery.
Such were the dreams of an ambitious man. Better yet, a foolish man. He knew not to articulate his fantasies of revolt, or he’d have caught his death for it by now.
But Khan was lucky, his bright mind and ingenuity had impressed the humans. During a shaft collapse a few months back, he’d taken the reigns and stabilized the structure long enough to evacuate all the workers. Having saved them a pretty penny, the humans rewarded him with a promotion to construction. Meaning no more physical labor.
“What’s on the agenda for today?” The worker drone grabbed his clipboard, scanning the text to find his assignment. He flipped the page to find it in big bold letters, coupled with a map.
Cabin Fever Labs
Ceiling collapse on basement floor, building integrity compromised.
“Huh,” he thought, “Never heard of that place.”
Grabbing the map, he set out on his mission.
——
“Stop it! Don’t touch me!”
“The more you squirm, the more it’ll hurt, 002.”
“Please, I’m sorry! I’ll be good, I swear!”
——
Khan didn’t expect the walk to take as long as it did. It felt like hours since he’d left the mines. His head was pounding, legs ached, and he contemplated giving up halfway.
“Screw the humans. They don’t deserve my help anyway.” He huffed, feeling the hot sun burn down on him.
Yet, against his better judgment, Khan persisted, wading through waist-high vegetation as he finally stumbled upon the Cabin Fever complex. It was at least ten stories high. Blacked-out windows lined the building in a grid-like pattern, and a large, metal door towered before the drone. It was locked, so he had no choice but to ring the bell.
A buzzer rang not long after. “State your name and the purpose of your visit,” came an annoyed voice on the other end.
“Uh, hello? I’m Khan. I-I’m here on behalf of JCJenson… to survey the ceiling collapse? I’m the Head of Construction at the copper mines.”
“Come in.” Another beep and Khan entered.
——
“Subject 002’s test results have been… alarming, to say the least.”
“What do you suppose we do?”
Purple eyes blinked open, and a blurry haze of white fluorescent light overwhelmed them. It took 002 a moment to realize where she was: the torture chamber, strapped to the patient bed. Everything hurt, and for a moment she cursed death for being too elusive a mercy for her. In the distance, she heard the voices of the Doctors.
Ever since that symbol had first plagued her processor they’d taken every opportunity to subject her to the latest “treatments”. Psychological torture, physical beatings, and solitary confinement had become staples of her daily routine.
“I think we ought to separate her and 048. It could be that two infected drones interacting is worsening the problem.”
This immediately set off alarms in 002’s mind. They couldn’t take 048 from her, she was the only good thing about this hellhole!
“I’ll inform Dr. Piers of the change. I’m sure we can accommodate 002 in 017’s room.”
Anger surged through her body. The mere thought of the Doctors taking the last good thing in her life away from her made 002 seethe. A thousand possibilities soared through her mind, until the symbol from her visions appeared in her hand once again.
“I said let me go!” A flash of violet light cut through the leather straps holding her down, and 002 fought back tears as she burst through the torture chamber door and down the hall.
——
Khan made his way to the basement of the labs, looking for the hall with the collapsed ceiling.
“There you are.” He whispered once he finally found his assignment. It was… a disturbing site to say the least. The ceiling tiles had been shattered beyond recognition, seemingly by force, and the wall nearby had been splattered with… oil? It sent a chill up his chassis.
He began surveying the damage when a female voice picked up behind him.
“So… they finally let someone see what goes on down here, huh? You some fresh meat or sumthin’?”
Khan was startled, jumping a bit before turning around, and then his shock turned to awe as he laid eyes on the most beautiful drone he’d ever seen. Her clothes were plain: a sleeveless grey dress, ID tag, gloves, and no shoes. Yet there was an undeniable fervor in her eyes, which were the most brilliant shade of purple-pink.
“Helloooo?” she asked, “Ya still in there or?” She tapped her fingers on his faceplate, effectively snapping him out of his trance.
“Uh— hi miss?” He tried to form a full sentence but was too taken aback, a vibrant white blush forming on his cheeks.
The woman played with the ends of her lavender hair and stifled a giggle, “I’ve never had a guy get flustered over me before. You sure you don’t belong down here with the rest of us defects?”
Embarrassed, Khan tried to reassert himself, “Ma’am, I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m the Head of Construction, and I’m here to survey the ceiling collapse. Do you need help with something?”
——
Now that ticked 002 off. She couldn’t believe it! This… cute weird, weird man with a hard hat and too much audacity had the nerve to waltz into her home and ask her if she needed his help!
“Okay, nuance alert ‘ma’am,’” she said mockingly, “You’re in my neck of the woods right now! So how about we switch up the roles and ask if you need my help, hmm?” And to really get her point across, 002 held up three fingers, and the symbol appeared once more. In an instant, all the damage had been undone.
——
“Oh, uh. What was that?” It was a stupid question, but the construction worker couldn’t think of any other way to phrase it.
He watched as a deep, violet-pink blush covered the woman’s face. She crossed her arms and huffed, stepping backward “It’s uhm… it’s nothing. Just a virus I have,” Then her voice got quiet, “Bet it freaks you out, huh? Just like everyone else.”
Khan was about to say something to the contrary when heavy footsteps began racing down the hall. Humans. He watched as the purple lady’s eyes went hollow and she stepped back.
“I-I need to go,” she stammered, “I’m not even supposed to be talking to you.”
“Wait!” He shouted back, but it was too late. He caught a final glimpse of her light as the beautiful violet woman turned a corner and disappeared.
“I didn’t even get your name…”
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mrzombielover · 11 months ago
Text
- slow ride ch1
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feat. sinner!adam x fem!hotel worker!reader
series masterlist | next chapter
warnings: NSFW, enemies to fuckbuddies, adam and reader both suck, unhealthy relationships, size kink oooops, light degradation
a/n: oh my god this is so self indulgent. something is fr wrong with me bc all my favorite men are irrevocably fucked up and toxic and emotionally damaged and would treat me like shit teehee
wc: 2.2k
“You took my shame and you took my pride / And now you gonna take me for a slowride”
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When even Charlie is trepidatious about checking someone in to the hotel, you know they’ve fucked up bad.
Adam had shown up, tail between his legs, admitting something about how he’s “desperate enough to try anything,” even this “stupid delusional humiliating hotel.”
Charlie, who’s more like an angel than Adam ever was, had ultimately decided that he could stay. After a lengthy and heated discussion, she’d reminded the group that the hotel’s policy states that everyone deserves a chance at redemption, regardless of the sins they’ve committed. Considering he killed your friend, you thought that was bullshit, but it’s Charlie’s hotel at the end of the day, and you’re just along for the ride.
You like Charlie, which is why you put up with having Adam around. She’s a good person- genuinely, deep down. There’s no hidden motives in her actions. You’ve not met many good people in your life, so she’s won your respect, even if you have your doubts about the hotel’s premise.
But for as much as you love her, you briefly questioned her sanity when she asked you to keep a special eye on Adam.
“…and how exactly is that the job of treasury secretary?” You deadpan.
“Wellll…” Charlie trails off, looking away for a moment. “It isn’t really. Buuut what if I was asking as a favor, for your friend?” She clasps her hands together, giving you a smile. You have to avert your eyes from the hopeful look on her face before your resolve cracks.
“No way in hell,” You say quickly.
“Please!”
“No,”
“Pleaseee!”
You bite your lip as you think. He’s obnoxious, yes, but what’s really the worst that could happen? You close your eyes and sigh.
“…you owe me one,”
You regret accepting every day. Nobody got along with Adam. Well, nobody except for Nifty, who seemed thrilled to have a real bad boy staying in the hotel. You, however, got along with him the least of all.
For someone who’d come to the hotel in his time of need- who was in no position to ask for anything other than forgiveness- Adam sure has a smartass mouth. It seems Charlie just wants to give you a brain aneurysm, that’s why she gave you this job. Even if that wasn’t her goal, that’s certainly the stage you’re approaching, because fighting with Adam everyday is 100% going to make you pop a blood vessel.
You can’t help it. Something about him- the way he acts, the forced proximity, just gets under your skin, makes your eye twitch. He should be groveling, begging for forgiveness, putting his heart and soul into bettering himself, yet all he does is bitch and moan. Constantly complaining would be one thing, hell’s full of whiners, but he also feels the need to voice every thought he’s ever had, which often includes insults and snide remarks about those around him. You’ve never been one to take that shit- though, nobody at the hotel really does. It seems to be much worse with you two, specifically, though.
The problem comes in because, as much as you hate to admit it, you might sometimes occasionally have some things in common with him. No, you’re not quite as loud or crude or obnoxious, you don’t generally insult people for fun, but if someone deserves it?
You’ve tore into people for way less than murdering your friend, showing up on your doorstep and being a pain in your ass 24/7, especially if you’re in a particularly shitty mood. Reduced people to tears for mildly inconveniencing you, having an annoying voice, wasting food, etc etc… all of which Adam does.
Generally, you’re apathetic to what goes on around you, especially at the hotel. You’re fed, don’t have to pay rent, and can pretty much do whatever you want, so dealing with the annoying, traumatized, dramatic residents and staff is a fair trade off in your eyes. Adam should, in theory, be no different than the rest of them to you. So you cannot, for the life of you, figure out what about him makes him so much worse than the rest.
You just try not to think about him as much as possible. But when you ignore him, he just seems to get worse.
“Jesus, you don’t think it’s a bit early to start drinking?”
You mentally groan as you hear his voice, avoiding eye contact as you crack open the bottle.
“I mean, Isn’t this shithole supposed to be for rehabilitation?” You can practically hear the smirk in his voice as he opens the fridge.
“Why don’t you focus on your own rehab first, dick? Been weeks now and you’re still an asshole,” You snap, before taking a swig of your beer. He shrugs, grabbing the orange juice from the fridge and placing it on the counter. He walks past where you’re leaning on the counter to get a glass.
“I mean, damn, you didn’t even try today, huh?”He laughs.
“Why are you pickin’ a fight with me right now?” You raise your voice a little, exasperated and too hungover to deal with this.
“oh, uh, i dunno… i’m bored?” He shrugs again, looking over to you with a self satisfied smile. You groan in frustration, then sigh, forcing yourself to keep it together.
“…and you wonder why your wives left you,” you mumble with a roll your eyes, turning to quickly leave the kitchen. you don’t see his face, but judging from the sound of a crash and footsteps quickly following you into the hallway, you hit a nerve. oh, god, here we go…
“you fucking junkie bitch!” he yells after you as you stomp up the stairs.
“you’re proving my point right now!” you say over your shoulder.
“Like you have room to talk? Let’s bring up your love life, huh?!”
“oh my god shut up!” Angel yells through the door as you pass his room. “Every fuckin’ morning with you two!”
Adam ignores him, continuing to rant as he follows closely behind you, every degrading name he can think of spilling from his lips.
“…fucking whore cunt- whose not even fucking listening to me!” he says as you turn into your room. you turn, attempting to slam the door, but he sticks his foot in the gap and grabs the door, shoving it back open.
“what in the fuck is your problem today?!” you yell.
“it’s you, bitch!”
“oh my god- how do you care about anything this much? Seriously, it’s not that deep!”
you jump a little as he suddenly slaps the beer bottle out of your hands, the glass shattering loudly and the leftover beer soaking your socks. your jaw drops, outraged, and you can’t help the reflex to reach up and smack the side of his head.
“ow!” he yelps, and you raise your fists to hit him again, when-
“you- fucking bitch-!” he shouts. you cry out in surprise as he grabs your wrists and yanks you with surprising ease, shoving you roughly into the wall behind you.
theres a struggle, both grunting with the strain of pushing against each other as Adam wrestles to keep the upper hand. You go to knee him, but he moves quicker, slotting one of his legs between your own and pressing his body against yours to pin you completely against the wall.
then, something changes. he pauses, the close proximity seems to have finally registered in his brain. his eyes widen and you pause too, both panting, faces inches apart. his grip loosens, and a flicker of confusion crosses his features.
“wait, what’s-“
“shut up,” you snap suddenly. before you even realize what you’re doing, your hands are on his chest, and you’re shoving him towards your bed.
“take off your shirt,” you command as the back of his knees hit the mattress and he’s falling backwards. he quickly does as you say, looking up at you with wide eyes as you straddle him and rip your own shirt off as well. he mumbles a nice when he sees you’re not wearing a bra. you reach to tug off the sweatpants you had on, and as soon as you can kick them away Adam’s hands are on your waist and flipping you over. He hurriedly rips off the rest of his clothes before he’s back on you, leaning down to eagerly press kisses down your neck. you have to tilt your head to make room for the horns now permanently attached to his head, and you think of the irony of this situation.
the sound of fabric ripping followed immediately by two of his fingers finding your clit makes you gasp. you bite back a whimper as he begins to rub rough and sloppy circles on your clit. the pleasure doesn’t last long before he’s pulling his hand back, only to shove a finger inside your cunt quickly, and you gasp again. being so unprepared, the stretch burns a bit. fuck, has he always had such big hands? he’s gentle at first, as he works the single finger in and out of you, and once the pain subsides, he quickly adds a second one.
“Oh, fuck,” you can’t help the curse that slips past your lips, and before long you’re rocking your hips against his hand. his movements are rushed and sloppy, impatient as he stretches you out. he chuckles dryly, and you shoot him a glare.
once again, before long, he’s pulling away, and grabbing you by the shoulders to make you sit up with him. you whine involuntarily at the loss of contact, and the cocky bastard laughs again.
“So impatient, babe,” He grins.
“Shut up,” You say again, pushing him so that he’s sitting up against the bed frame. You crawl over to him, and straddle his lap. His hands find your ass, groping it roughly while you grab the base of his cock and align the tip with your entrance.
You both gasp in unison when you swiftly lower yourself to take his full length. A strangled moan escapes from your lips and you let your head fall forward to rest on his shoulder. Eyes squeezed shut, you wait so you can adjust to his size. Seriously, how had you never noticed how big he was before now? Prematurely, Adam angles his hips and suddenly thrusts up into you, making you cry out in pain and pleasure.
“Oh you like that, bitch? Huh?” He says teasingly, running his hands up and down your back before moving his hips again.
“You have seriously got to learn to be quiet,” You retort through gritted teeth, reaching up to pull his hair from the roots. He lets out a groan, followed by a more pathetic whine as you begin to move on his length.
It must be all the pent up emotion, because you’re very quickly unable to speak beyond a few curses and wanton moans. Adam however, can’t seem to stop talking. Mumbling about how good you feel- for a whore, how he didn’t think you’d be so tight, how you’re so fucking sexy he wishes he’d done this sooner.
“Ugh, Adam- shut up!” You groan as you move desperately. He whines as you pull his hair again for emphasis, biting his lip as you feel his hips snap up into yours.
“Oh, god-“ You’re squealing, back arching as you can feel your whole body tense. You’re on top, but as you grow more limp, he’s holding you upright as he roughly fucks into you. “I’m close!” You warn, and it comes out a strangled sob.
You’re so, so close. Euphoria clouds your brain, and collapse onto him as he continues to hold you up to thrust into you.
You fall backwards, and Adam follows, caging you underneath him as he chases his own release now.
“oh- fuck- don’t stop!” You’re practically screaming as your orgasm crashes over you, and you wrap your arms around and claw at Adam desperately, fingernails leaving marks on his fleshy back. You only faintly register the breathless laugh he lets out at your state as he now pounds into you.
He slams into you with an intensity that forces the air out of your lungs, and even Adam can’t form thoughts or speak anymore.
“Oh, fu-uuck, fuck, fuck, oh my god,” He can’t believe the noises that are coming from him, but he also can’t find it in himself to care when you feel this good. You’re so sensitive, and still tight from your previous climax, and he can feel your pulse in the walls of your cunt as you clench around him.
Pleasure quickly turns to overstimulation, and you moan his name again, reaching up to pull at his hair, horns, wings, anything, as tears begin to prick at your eyes. Hearing you moan his name, seeing the look on your face, knowing he’s the one doing this to you is what he needed to send him over the edge.
“o-oh my god-“ he groans, hips stuttering as he presses his body as close to yours as possible, spilling his cum deeply inside of you with an actual moan.
He stays still for a moment, both of your breathing labored, sweat making your hair stick to your foreheads and necks, but you stay holding eachother. While both your brains are still fuzzy, thoughts muddled from the aftershocks, he takes a hand up and wipes your hair away from your face, and the tears from your eyes.
Eventually, he sits up and pulls out of you, rolling over to lay next to you on the bed. Neither of you say anything, too fucked out to think of the repercussions from your actions.
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navajja · 1 year ago
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Personally I have a lot of options about Stoliz relationships, and I don't enjoy how they treat eachother, so here are some Stolas and Stoliz redesign and facts just to make myself happy, completely self indulgent.
Cracgking fingers* WElLL
In this idea Stolas is slightly older than Blitzø because of some magic thing he did to learn ages worth of information, they meet at the same age but when they see eachothers again Stolas is slightly older, maybe around ten years.
Stolas marriage with Stela is very complicated (i blame my friend for this idea) it is common behavior in the Goetia family to marry for convenience and HATE their spouses, they all talk shit about each other and laugh at their spouses expenses, it is what is normal for them and it is the way they have fun, everyone is used to this marriage social construct, but Stolas is the weird one of the bunch.
He tried really hard to have a happy marriage and he never truly understood why Stela humiliated him in family gatherings, and it only made it worse when he felt genuinely offended by his words because he was taking the fun out of their marriage. Stolas has a hard time understanding this. Goetia family DOES NOT GET DIVORCES that are considered a failure, u can hate ur spouse all u want but Divorce is a big NO.
Octavia, is actually 20 years old and she wants to be independent, but Stolas is an overprotective parent, he thinks he is staying married for her sake, but it is actually because he is afraid of what people would say. Octavia moved out of the palace but she is actually living in the garden in a smaller part of the castle (just a nepo baby thinking she is independent) Stolas actually cried for that. He is an overprotective parent, but his kid is not a kid anymore and she doesn't need them, he should be looking for his own happiness and all of this is driving him to a mid life crisis (he is 40 and Goetia lives to +250 years, but he feels old)
One night Blitzo shows up with the intention of stealing Stolas book. They end up getting drunk in stolas room talking about everything, it is the first night they enjoy in a long time. All of the alcohol and happiness ends up in the having great sex, and it is not part of the deal they made for the book, the deal is about Blitzo visiting Stolas when he needs his book, he is free to leave right away if he wants but hey genuinely enjoy eachothers company and the fuckin is just a fun little extra. They don't label their relationship, they got issues.
Stella never finds out about Stolas actively cheating on her, she knows something is wrong but can't figure out what, especially because she doesn't believe Stolas is capable of cheating on her with the lower class.
Blitzo is the same idiot we know, but he doesn't act like he hates stolas, but words are hard for him so they never truly talk or say that there feelings are very real. He has low self-esteem, he believes strongly that he doesn't deserve been liked by Stolas and he feels like he is taking advantage every time they are together, he keeps himself for saying those things because he is in love and he takes what he can until Stolas gets tired of him
Blitzo's business idea came up because he needed something substantial he could leave for Loona. If someone ever happens to him he knows Mox and Millie would keep her company but he needs to be sure she will have a future of he is not around.
He adopted her at age 13, she was on high alert all the time but soon enough she was Blitzo precious little girl, but she is 15 now and she is a menace to the world, the teenager rebellion hit her hard, and Blitzo doesn't have anyone to ask for parenting advices, his only ideas are for trying to do the contrary his father did to him, so Loona is spoiled considering Blitzø financial reality.
All i have so far, sorry about it, muak.
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hwaslayer · 1 year ago
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project: make you love me (jyh) | 13.5
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♣︎ spotify playlist | series masterlist
—summary: yunho can’t stand how you’re so wrapped up in the notorious campus fuckboy, park seonghwa. he would gladly love you the way you deserve, despite being shy, awkward and the complete opposite of seonghwa. thus, when he finds himself spending more time with you over literature reviews and random study sessions, he decides to take on the challenge to win you over.
—pairing: jeong yunho x f. reader x park seonghwa
—genre: (18+ - minors dni) strangers/friends to lovers, college au | fluff, angst, smut
—word count: 1.8k
—chapter content/warnings: cussing/mature language, just a peek into some stuff that happened over break, very self indulgent honestly i just wanted more yuyu time lolol, the usual teasing between these lovebirds, making out, handjob, teensy weensy bit of spit play, unprotected sex, riding yunho after hes fresh out the shower purrrr 🤪
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—a/n: hi! dropping a bonus chapter because it's like ... kinda necessary in order for the next update to make sense? more self indulgent tho LOL but it wasn't long enough to be a chapter chapter ��� anywho, enjoy!! pls vote on my poll if you haven't already cause ya girl needs to figure out her priorities hehe ty 💕
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"Get in the damn car! We're late!" Chaery yells at Seungmin as he lazily walks over after forcing for a pitstop just to get snacks. Yunho laughs as he watches from the rear view mirror, popping his mouth open when you lean over and feed him a fish ball.
"Why don't you get in and stop worrying about me? I'm getting there!" You hear Seungmin yell back as Soobin swings the door open and slides into the back seat.
"Maybe they'll never notice if we just drive off?" Soobin suggests, making Yunho chuckle again.
"He's almost to the car." 
"Why is she hella mad anyway?" Soobin shivers in his jacket.
"He's taking his sweet ol' time. Plus, you know how Chaery is. Her family is full of seasoned travelers. They don't do pitstops and stuff." You dip the fish ball into the sauce and pop it into your mouth.
"Right." Soobin sips on his cup of coffee, scooting closer to the door when Chaery and Seungmin finally slip into their seats.
"We're literally so behind now. You made Yuyu wait." She continues to go at Seungmin, making him roll his eyes.
"Yunho, I'm sorry. I really had to use the bathroom. Some people don't understand it's a thing." 
"You're good." Yunho starts up the car and instantly turns up the heat. "We've only got about an hour and a half left." 
Today, you and your friends were off to spend a few days deep in the snow; renting a huge cabin near a snowboarding and ski resort. Yunho graciously offered to drive, patiently dealing with your friends and their requests on the way over.
Yunho heads to the cabin to help drop off the bags before meeting up with the rest already at the ski resort. He pulls into valet while the rest of you hop out and head straight into the store to get some gear and rent some snowboards. You find the rest of your friends hanging around in the café, sipping on hot cocoa while waiting for your group to arrive. Everyone is in good spirits, excited to see Yunho alongside of you. Even though he's tagged along a few times, you still can't help but feel worried about Yunho. You don't want him to feel isolated or left out, especially if you and your friends already have a good bond with each other. But, he fits in so well every single time, you almost feel like he's been friends with them for as long as you have been.
He tries, and the effort shows.
Once the snowboarding finally takes off, you find out that Yunho has been snowboarding before and is pretty comfortable with it. You, on the other hand, are terrified out of your mind. It takes a few tries, a patient Yunho and constant falls before you're [at the very least] boarding in a straight path. But, you're having fun and sharing lots of laughs with your friends, and you find yourself enjoying yourself no matter the circumstance.
After an hour or so of boarding, you, Yunho and a few of your friends sit off to the side to observe everyone else and play around with the snow in the surrounding area. You give your sister a Facetime call during the brief break, getting your friends and Yunho in the screen. Your sister kept calling Yunho a cutie, demanding for you to bring him over for dinner ASAP. Yunho agrees and tells your mom and sister that he'll see them soon again, waving goodbye before helping you stand to your feet for another round of snowboarding.
You and your friends are out there for another 1.5 hours before you call it quits, heading back to the cabin for a relaxing rest of the evening before another day of playing in the snow tomorrow. Everyone pitches in to make a good, hearty dinner— Yunho and a few of the other boys grilling in the covered back patio while the girls stayed indoors and finished preparing the rest of the dishes over some drinks. Once everything is set, everyone sits at the table and quietly enjoys their food before debating what to watch for the rest of the night.
After dinner, most of the food is gone, and the group is cleaning around before you head upstairs to your shared room with Yunho. You take a shower first, while Yunho hangs out with the group downstairs, enjoying the hot water as it hits your skin. You take a good, lengthy 20 minute shower; gently moisturizing before getting into Yunho's shirt and some shorts, leaving your wet hair to air dry.
Luckily, the cabin is warm enough, but you know you'll get cold the longer you sit around. Before leaving the room, you turn on the portable heater just to warm the room a bit more before you get to bed. By the time you've headed back downstairs, a few of your friends are huddled around the living room now watching a true crime docuseries with some snacks; the rest already resting in their rooms or asleep from the eventful day.
"I'm gonna shower." Yunho kisses your cheek before excusing himself to shower. You watch for a bit before helping clean up around the kitchen and living room. You then bid your friends goodnight— the exhaustion kicking in quick that you don't really have time to sit and enjoy the rest of the docuseries they've started. When you get back into the room with a cup of tea in hand, Yunho has just turned off the shower and steps out in nothing but a towel. His hair is damp and you can't help but ogle at his frame, his body. "Hey. You didn't wanna watch?"
"No, the exhaustion is hitting me pretty badly now. I just helped clean up a bit downstairs and made some tea."
"Mm. Is the room warm enough for you?" He points at the portable heater that he's turned up a bit more.
"Yes. It's cozy." You chuckle. "Thank you." You sit on the bed with your back against the wall, watching as Yunho takes a seat on the edge. He's running a smaller wet towel across his damp hair, his back facing you. You can't help but crawl over and throw your arms over his shoulders, planting random kisses against the side of his neck and shoulders.
"Cutie." He chuckles. "What can I do for you?" 
"A kiss?" He smiles, dipping forward to connect his lips with yours in a sweet kiss. 
"You sure that's all?" He teases. "You know you can just tell me, baby."
"That's all." You continue to kiss him, hand traveling down his chest, to grazing across the tent forming in his towel. 
"Hey." He whines in between kisses, slightly hissing when you continue to gently palm him through the towel. "If you keep doing that, I won't be able to stop myself."
"Your fault for walking out of the damn bathroom when it's literally below 0 outside." He laughs, hands falling onto your hips when you crawl onto his lap.
"It was warm enough in here!"
"Sure." You playfully roll your eyes.
"Take these off." He whispers, tugging on your shorts.
"So bold." You tease as he helps you out of your shorts and bites his bottom lip.
"Mm, well. You started it." His hands come up your shirt to squeeze your sides. "Care to show me what exactly you need, love?" He smirks, a drip of a suave tone slipping through his lips.
"Mhm." You sit back a bit and run your hand up his towel to gently stroke his already-hardened member. He hisses and tilts his head back in pleasure, tempted to thrust into your hand as you pump him at a steady pace. He lets out low, strangled moans, trying his best to keep contact with you through hooded lids. You take the opportunity to spit onto his dick, letting it drip down the head and down his length while you pick up the pace. Yunho's moans are a little louder now, and hearing it drives you crazy.
"Jesus." He lowly groans. "Baby, wait, wait, wait—" He grabs at your wrist and stops you. "You'll make me cum if you keep going."
"You don't want that?"
"No. Or else, we would've gone through all that trouble of taking off your shorts for nothing." You giggle, adjusting your position to line him up at your entrance. 
"We have to be quiet."
"Do we? They have the docuseries on loud downstairs." You slowly sink down his length, lips attaching to his as you both let out soft moans while adjusting to the feeling.
"Mm, but there's still rooms across—" Yunho chases after your lips, enclosing it in a heated kiss before you can say anything else. He grips onto your hips and guides you at a steady pace, more gargled and low moans leaving him as you work him.
"They won't hear a thing, pretty. Don't worry." He smirks against your lips. "Is it really a bad thing, though?"
"Yunho." You giggle, tilting your head back in pleasure when his cock hits you in all the right places, clit rubbing against him perfectly. 
"Love when you say my name like that." He mutters against your neck, tongue swiping against the surface before he bites onto your neck. You let out a sigh just as his hand comes to your neck, gently squeezing as he watches you ride him at a steady rhythm.
"You feel so good." Your hands trail up the nape of his neck, tugging at the ends of his hair. His hands come back to your sides as he whispers in your ear, praising and cooing you straight to the edge.
Gonna keep being a good girl for me?
Riding me like you were made for me.
So pretty, so beautiful.
My baby.
And it only takes a couple of more rolls against Yunho before you're twitching and trembling in his grip, digging your nails into his shoulders as he thrusts up into you and fills you up shortly afterwards. He groans as lets out every last bit into you, lips grazing against your neck before planting a soft trail there, to your jaw, to your lips.
"That was fun." You say, making Yunho chuckle.
"Let's get cleaned up." He looks down at the towel that's now on the floor. "Again." You laugh, heading to the bathroom to clean up, get dressed and do some final touches before slipping into bed with Yunho. He instantly pulls you into his arms, wrapping one around your shoulders while you lay on his chest. "Can barely keep my eyes open now." You smile when Yunho kisses you on the forehead, letting out a content sigh with you in his arms.
"Yunho?"
"Mhm?"
"Thanks for coming along on this little trip."
"Wouldn't miss it for a thing, love." He hums against you, falling asleep in due time just to repeat the agenda all over again tomorrow.
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