#expelled-from-heaven
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weirdlookindog · 6 months ago
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John Martin (1789-1854) - Satan expelled from Heaven, 1825
from 'The Paradise Lost of John Milton with illustrations by John Martin', 1846
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guzhufuren · 27 days ago
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Nagumo Shoma
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lycanwlf · 7 months ago
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why didnt i get the good autism and instead got the "nearly vomited because my teeth grazed pass a single diced onion (didnt even bite into it) and now my entire room smells like someone cut an onion and my mouth is on fire" autism
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glubbydied · 2 years ago
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i have died. badly
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lastparty · 2 years ago
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leatherdyketerror · 2 years ago
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i dont really watch bcs, only occasionally when im over at arson's and he's watching it but good god. kim wexler's voice.
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charhounds · 4 months ago
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lord help me its happening again
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halloweeninabottle · 1 year ago
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pookie bojci
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samo mi se spava (x)
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rose-morose · 10 months ago
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I didn't even notice this holy shit that is fucking hilarious
on a somewhat more serious note I see a lot of people complaining about Vaggie's unhealthy perspective of her relationship with Charlie and how her whole existence is devoted to supporting her partner but I think the flashback to her losing her wings helps explain it
like of course it's unhealthy, but she has room to grow and that's what storytelling is all about, and it makes sense that she is so single-mindedly devoted to Charlie because she lost absolutely everything and Charlie was the first and only new thing to enter her life since
she doesn't have other interests or reasons for living because she lost all of that when she was expelled from heaven, but I look forward to seeing her develop as a person and the evolution of Chaggie to a much healthier place
relationships in media don't have to be perfect, it's realistic that many of these relationships have unhealthy aspects but that's what makes us root for them is that they can improve
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theostrophywife · 1 year ago
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heaven and back.
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pairing: mattheo riddle x reader x theodore nott.
song inspiration: heaven and back by chase atlantic.
author's note: poly! matty and theo just hits different. the teamwork that these two would put in. whew baby that's a one way ticket to st. mungo's. these men break backs, not hearts 😏
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You were good at playing games. 
As a matter of fact, Mattheo and Theodore would argue that you were a little too good. 
After all, you met your boyfriends during one of Malfoy’s infamous game nights in which you swindled Mattheo and Theodore out of a few hundred galleons during a tense round of magical poker. Ever since that fateful night in fourth year, the three of you became inseparable. Thanks to your slyness, the first Saturday of every month was deemed sacred to your fellow Slytherins. Game nights were reserved for drinking and debauchery, which just so happened to be your specialty.
Though the entirety of Hogwarts coveted an invitation to the longstanding tradition, very few were allowed a glimpse into the inner workings of the serpent’s nest. Tonight, the guest of honor was none other than the Gryffindor golden girl—Hermione Granger. She and Draco only started dating a month ago, but anyone with eyes could see that Malfoy was quite smitten. Before Hermione, Draco had never invited a significant other to game night. 
You were determined to give Hermione a warm Slytherin welcome. Hence the special potion you brewed just for the occasion. 
With a smirk, you produced the potion from your back pocket. The liquid sloshed around in the glass vial, the iridescent purple mixture flecked with specks of glitter. 
“I know that look.” Theo remarked, pulling you into his lap. “What sort of trouble are you brewing, dolcezza?” 
Mattheo chuckled and nestled against his shoulder. “Don’t act like you don’t like it, Teddy. You know we both benefit from her mischief. Isn’t that right, princess?” 
You smiled, ruffling Mattheo’s curls. “You’re absolutely right, Matty. Tonight, everyone will reap the rewards of my tricks. I concocted a special little potion that’ll make game night a little more interesting.”
Pansy raised a perfectly groomed brow. “What exactly does this little concoction of yours do, Y/N? The last time I drank something you brewed, I ended up streaking through the quidditch pitch.” 
“As I recall, I was right beside you, Pans.” Your friend chuckled, nodding in confirmation. “Consider this a social lubricant. It takes the edge off, makes you feel a little warm and fuzzy inside. It’s the perfect balance between feeling tipsy and high. Lowers those pesky inhibitions.” 
Draco scoffed. “If this group lowers their inhibitions any further, we’d all be expelled.” 
“That’s why we have you, Dray. What good is the Malfoy fortune if it can’t bail us out of sticky situations?”
“Need I remind you that the last sticky situation almost ended with Enzo in the infirmary after Mattheo and Theo convinced him to race backwards on their brooms.”
Hermione watched the back and forth exchange, absorbing the interaction with a small smile. 
“Draco’s exaggerating, of course. Anyone would’ve missed the whomping willow in the dark.” The Golden Girl chuckled as you sent her a conspiratory wink, causing Draco to sigh in exasperation. “Besides, Berkshire had fun. Didn’t you, Enz?”
“Oh, loads. I had a blast pulling twigs from my arse for two hours straight afterwards.” 
“See? You’re not talking us into taking another one of your poisons, Y/N.”
Enzo shook his head. “Speak for yourself, cousin. I’m definitely in.”
The rest of your friends expressed their agreement. Even Blaise, who would never dream of drinking anything besides the finest vintage, was eager to participate. Mostly to see the others make a fool of themselves, which was perfectly fine by you.
Draco rolled his silver eyes. “Fine. You lot are going to end up talking me into it, anyways.”
“What about you, Hermione? Would you like a sip as well?”
Her warm, honey brown eyes darted around the room. Draco clasped her hand in his, squeezing gently. “You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to, love. I’m only agreeing because I don't want to have to take care of these heathens.”
You nodded empathically. “No pressure, Hermione. You can say no if you’d like, but I am rather proud of my little concoction and it would be an absolute honor if the golden girl partook in our debauchery. After all, you’re dating Draco. You might as well get used to it now.”
A mischievous grin pulled at Hermione’s lips. She shrugged nonchalantly, her curls cascading over her shoulder. “Why the bloody hell not?” 
“That’s the spirit, Granger!” cheered Pansy. 
You smirked in response and slithered out of your boyfriend’s lap. Both Mattheo and Theo watched intently as you crawled across the plush ornate rug, slowly making your way towards the Gryffindor. Hermione sucked in a breath, her cheeks blossoming into a pretty blush. Her hands, which were laid in her lap in the most prim and proper way, twitched when you knelt before her on the sofa. 
Behind you, Mattheo mumbled something into Theo’s ear. When you glanced over your shoulder, your boyfriends were staring directly at you, anticipating your next move. You responded with an innocent smile before turning back to Hermione. 
With  a sly smile, you held her honey eyed gaze and tapped her bottom lip. “Open up, love.” 
Hermione swallowed thickly before parting her lips. You gently cradled her jaw before tipping the vial into her mouth, pouring a generous amount of potion for the golden girl. She looked up at you expectantly, her lashes fluttering ever so slightly. 
You rewarded her with a cheeky wink. “Good girl, Granger. That wasn’t so bad, was it?” 
She shook her head, the flush on her cheeks mimicking her house colors as you wiped a droplet of liquid off of her lips with your thumb. Beside her, Draco sighed. “For Salazar’s sake, stop putting the moves on my girlfriend.” 
“What’s the matter, Dray? Are you scared I’ll steal Hermione away from you?” 
“You can hardly blame me. You’re a shameless flirt, Y/N.” 
You placed a hand over your heart, feigning offense. “Why, I’d never dream of flirting with your lady. You know how jealous my boys get.” 
Your boyfriends shook their heads, clearly amused at your attempt to rile Draco up. Truly, your friend made it too easy. You chuckled as the blonde glared at you. “Come on, Malfoy. It’s your turn. Maybe the potion will loosen you up, yeah?” 
Draco rolled his eyes, but allowed you to pour the potion into his mouth. You moved down the line, doing the same for Pansy, Blaise, and Enzo. The latter grinned as you ruffled his hair. After Enzo, the only ones remaining were Theo and Mattheo. 
“Come here, cara mia.” Theo said, beckoning you with two fingers. “Mattheo and I are waiting.” 
“I saved the best for last, boys.” 
Mattheo smirked as he pulled you into his lap. You settled against him, making yourself right at home. He kissed the side of your neck, smiling against your skin. “Go on, then. Don’t leave Theo hanging.” 
You nodded, body heating as Mattheo rubbed your thighs. Theo raised a brow, his watercolor eyes settling over you. Licking your lips, you couldn’t help but let your gaze wander. Your boyfriend looked rather casual in his emerald jumper and dark jeans, but there was something about the way that Theo carried himself that exuded sex appeal. The cocky smirk on his handsome face told you that he was well aware of the effect he had on you.
Theo cocked his head towards you and opened his mouth. You tipped the vial past his lips, admiring how plush and pouty they looked. Lust darkened your boyfriend’s watercolor eyes as he watched you through hooded lids. The potion dribbled off his chin, making you giggle. 
“Oops, I spilled.” You licked the remnants off, lapping up the liquid all the way to the corner of his lips. Mattheo’s fingers dug into your hips as you finished off your little show with a kiss. 
Theo grabbed the back of your head and deepened the kiss. He didn’t take kindly to being teased. Never one to shy away from public displays of affection, Theo groaned softly and slid his tongue into your mouth, giving you a filthy open-mouthed kiss before pulling away and winking. 
Across the room, Hermione flushed, her lips parting ever so slightly. “Oh,” she whispered softly. 
Mattheo chuckled, his laughter caressing your skin as he nuzzled into the crook of your neck. He turned you over in his lap and tapped his lips. “Me next, princess.” 
“Open wide, Matty.” 
“Funny. Usually I’m the one saying that to you.” 
Your friends groaned at the suggestive comment, but you only grinned in response. Mattheo parted his lips eagerly, not once breaking eye contact as he swallowed the potion. The intensity of his big, brown eyes made your hands shake, causing you to spill a few drops on your fingers. Your boyfriend took your middle and pointer finger into his mouth and sucked them clean. 
You gasped in surprise. Mattheo chuckled darkly, catching the vial before it slipped out of your fingers. Behind you, Theo tugged at your hair and titled your head back. 
“Your turn now, mi amor.” Mattheo drawled, his voice a seductive song in your ears. He lowered his voice, so only you could hear his next statement. “Be a good girl and swallow.” 
The eager nod made both of your boyfriends smirk. Theo gathered your hair in one hand, fisting your locks into a makeshift ponytail while Mattheo poured the last of the potion into your mouth. The liquid was strong and sweet, trailing down your throat and warming your body with a pleasant heat. 
“That’s my girl,” Mattheo said. Theo raised a brow, which made the curly headed boy laugh. “That’s our girl.” 
“Better,” Theo remarked before pulling you against him. 
You settled into his lap, watching the rest of your friends start a game of poker. As always, Draco was way too competitive. Blaise was hustling the hell out of him, but the blonde didn’t seem to notice. Pansy wrapped her arms around her boyfriend’s shoulders, leaning in every so often to whisper things in his ear that made him smile. 
Enzo reclined back on the couch, an endearing smile pulling at his lips as he took small sips of his firewhiskey. From his glazed eyes, you could tell that the potion was hitting him the hardest. 
Mattheo rested his head on your lap, tugging at your hand in a silent request to play with his curls. You obliged happily, scratching at his scalp and twirling his bouncy locks between your fingers. Every so often, he’d lean in and show you his cards, asking for advice. 
As the night progressed, the potion took its effects, loosening both lips and limbs. Theo’s long legs bracketed you from either side, the intoxicating scent of petrichor and cigarette smoke clinging onto him like your own personal drug. Mattheo stared lovingly up at you as you continued playing with his hair. 
When you looked up, you met Hermione’s inquiring gaze. She was leaned up against Draco, who kept an arm around her waist, absentmindedly drawing circles underneath her sweater. 
She cocked her head, a question forming in her brilliant mind. “So, how exactly does it work?” 
You leaned back against Theo’s chest, a playful smirk curving against your lips. “How does what work, love?” 
“Having…two boyfriends.” 
“You mean, being poly?” 
“Poly,” Hermione said, testing out the word. There wasn’t a hint of judgment in her expression, just plain curiosity. Apparently, the Gryffindor girl’s innate hunger for knowledge extended to the intricacies of your relationship. “If you don’t mind me asking. How exactly does a poly relationship work?” 
You shrugged nonchalantly. “It’s like every other relationship,” you started, glancing at your two favorite people in the world. Mattheo and Theo smiled back. “We go on dates, we argue about stupid things, then we kiss and make up. Except sometimes the boys like to gang up on me.” 
Theo chuckled. “I reckon ganging up against you is the most fun that we have, dolcezza.” 
“I’d have to agree with Teddy,” Mattheo interjected as he grinned up at you. “We give teamwork a whole new meaning. Don’t we, princess?” 
“See,” you said, waving your arms between your boyfriends. “These sassy men will be the death of me.” 
Theo wrapped his arms around you, nuzzling against your neck. “You love us though.” 
“That I do,” you replied with a smile. 
“Do any of you ever get jealous?” asked Hermione. 
Theo nodded. “Of course, it’s a natural part of every relationship, but we have ways of working it out.” Your boyfriend smiled and kissed your cheek. “We just make sure no one feels left out.” He leaned down to place a kiss on Mattheo’s forehead too.
Hermione hummed. “That sounds rather nice, actually.” 
“I wouldn’t call it nice,” Mattheo countered with a sly smile. “Y/N can get a little feisty sometimes. You should’ve seen what she did to Lavender for touching my shoulder last week.” 
Theo nodded in agreement. “It’s nothing compared to the fight she had with Cho after she tried asking me out. Poor girl thought that polyamory equates to having an open relationship. As if I’d ever need anyone else besides Y/N and Mattheo.” 
“So polyamory doesn’t translate to opening your relationship to others,” Hermione said thoughtfully. “I’m learning so much.” 
Mattheo confirmed her statement with a nod. “Yes, we’re all very committed to one another. It’s only Y/N and Theo for me.” 
“While we all adore your wonderful little trio,” Draco cut in. You could tell by the tension in his shoulders that he would definitely not be open to sharing the golden girl with anyone else. “I think it’s time to call it a night.” 
You chuckled. “Such a party pooper, Malfoy. Don’t worry, Granger’s just asking for education purposes. Aren’t you, Mione?” 
“I know what you’re doing, Y/N. You’re devious, you know that?” 
Theo smirked at his oldest friend. “Don’t be jealous cause she has more game than you, Dray.” 
“After all, that’s how she got us. Right, princess?” 
Draco sighed exasperatedly. You rolled your eyes fondly before saying goodbye to everyone. Pulling Hermione into a hug, you winked behind her back as Draco glared at you. 
“Thank you for indulging me,” Hermione said softly. “I feel thoroughly educated now.” 
“No problem, Mione.” 
You kissed her cheek before wrapping Draco into a hug as well. “Stay sharp, Dray. You’ll have to work harder to keep up with this one. Granger’s way out of your league.” 
Draco smiled. “I’m well aware.” 
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Later that night as you laid in bed sandwiched between Mattheo and Theo, you felt the potion reach its peak. You giggled into Theo’s neck, squealing as Mattheo pressed his cold feet against your legs. The three of you were chatting about your day like you usually did, but thanks to the potion, one of you always got sidetracked, leading into cuddles and kisses mid sentence.
Matty spooned you from behind, his possessive grip snaked around your waist like a vice. “I’m not going to lie, watching you crawl towards Granger tonight did something to me.” 
“That’s her game, mio amato. You know she loves to tease.” 
You turned over to face him, an amused smirk toying at your lips. “I thought you liked my little games, Teddy. At least your lower half did. I could feel you pressing against me all night.” 
Theo smirked, grinding his erection against your thigh. “Can you blame me? You knew exactly what you were doing. Admit it, cara mia. You weren’t cozying up to Hermione just to get under Draco’s skin. You were doing it to rile us up too.” 
“It worked. I’ve been hard as fuck all night. The way you teased Granger had me thinking vile thoughts.” 
“So I’m not enough for you, Matty?” You jested, pouting your bottom lip at your boyfriend. “You want Draco’s girl too?” 
Within the blink of an eye, you were pinned underneath Mattheo with your arms raised above your head as your boyfriend glared down at you. “No. If anything, you’re the one flirting with Granger like Theo and I aren’t enough to handle already. Maybe we should remind you who you belong to.” 
You hummed in agreement, biting back a smile. “Hmm, maybe you’re right, querido. I’m not opposed to a little refresher.” 
Theo shook his head in disbelief. “Fucking hell, bella. You just want to be railed until you cry, don’t you? Such a little brat. You could’ve just asked for what you wanted.”
You batted your lashes in response. “But it’s so much more fun this way.” 
As retaliation, Mattheo flipped you over on all fours. With a smirk, he leaned back on the headboard and pushed down his gray heathered sweatpants as Theo crawled behind you. He gave no warning as he bunched up your nightdress, pressing a filthy kiss against your clothed sex. You were dripping for him, coating his lips with your taste as he pushed your head down on Mattheo’s lap. You groaned as Mattheo pumped himself between slender fingers, tapping the tip of his cock against your lips. He bucked into your mouth just as Theo plunged his tongue between your folds. 
“What was that, principessa?” Theo hummed against your aching cunt. “Matty and I can’t hear you over all that moaning.” 
Mattheo laughed meanly as he gathered your hair in his fist, thrusting down your throat with a choked moan. “Put that smart mouth to work, sweetheart.” He thrust in lazily, barely giving you his tip. “Spit on it.” 
Glancing up at him through your lashes, you spit on Mattheo’s cock and watched as his head lolled against the headboard. “Teddy? Wanna give me a hand, pretty boy?”
With wide eyes, you gasped as Theo leaned over and pumped Mattheo in his hand before lining up his length against your lips. Theo kissed your cheek before shoving your head down to take inch after inch. Once Mattheo slid all the way in, he pulled out just to slam back in forcefully. You could feel Mattheo hitting the back of your throat, activating your gag reflex while he smirked in satisfaction. 
“Gonna shut the fuck up and take my cock like a good little slut, aren’t you?” 
You nodded, tears forming in your eyes as Mattheo continued to fuck your throat. As if that weren’t enough, Theo flicked his tongue on your clit and feasted on you from behind like a starved man. He took his sweet time, sloppily making out with your pussy and lapping up your arousal before slipping a finger inside, pumping you as you gagged on Mattheo’s cock. You groaned as Theo pried your legs apart, his intense gaze never leaving your face as he kissed the inside of your thighs. Hooking your right leg over his shoulder, Theo began licking and teasing, his tongue flicking through your folds with expert precision. He sucked hard, lapping your juices up with fervent devotion. 
The potion increased the sensations tenfold, intensifying your pleasure as you bucked against Theo’s face. It seems that your less than innocent academic pursuit had truly paid off because both Theo and Mattheo seemed to be affected just as much. The current of the concoction surged through all three of you, slamming you with wave after wave of heady desire. It felt better than drunk sex or fucking while you were high. This was just unbridled lust and want, flooding you with the need to be nothing but an obedient fuck toy for your favorite boys. 
Mascara streaked down your cheeks as you cried out for more, fisting the sheets as your boyfriends occupied both of your needy holes. The cries of pleasure were muffled around Mattheo’s cock. Your boyfriend’s breathing grew ragged and his grip grew tighter, his abs rippling as he shot hot ribbons down your throat. 
“Good girl. So fucking beautiful, swallowing every drop of my cum like a perfect little whore. You’re flawless, Y/N.”
Theo made quick work of you afterwards. Warmth spread from your core, hot tendrils snaking all over your body as he pushed you to your first orgasm of the night. When Theo crooked his middle and pointer finger inside your gummy walls, you squirted into his mouth with a cry. Despite your cries of pleasure, Theo showed no signs of stopping. His cool breath fanned over your sensitive sex and you whimpered at his ravenous appetite, squirming away from Theo’s tongue. Displeased, Theo flipped you onto your back and dragged you towards him by the ankles. 
“I’m not done with you, tesoro.” 
Your boyfriend growled and glanced at Mattheo. “Hold her down,” Theo commanded, his pretty eyes sparkling with mischief. “You’re done when I say you’re done. Sit back, look pretty, and let me eat your pussy until you’re sobbing. I’ll make you feel so good, bella. Surely you have another one in you, don’t you, Y/N?” 
You nodded, still reeling from the aftershock of your orgasm. Mattheo placed you on his lap, prying your lips open with his fingers. “Theo asked you a question, princess. Use your words.” 
Theo smirked. “Give her a minute. I think I’ve fucked her so dumb with my mouth and fingers that she can’t even form a sentence.” 
“Wouldn’t be the first time,” Mattheo said with a chuckle. He caressed your jaw, pressing kisses against your shoulder. “Don’t you want to cum again, sweetheart? Either way, you don’t really have a choice. Theo’s going to feast on you no matter what you say. You know he hates being teased.”
“I can take it,” you said in a shaky voice. “I’ll be good, I promise. I just want to make you both proud.” 
Theo smiled, revealing the dimples you loved so much. “I know you do, Y/N. We’re not stopping until you’ve soaked the sheets. Now come on, be a good girl and sit on my face.”
You swallowed thickly as Theo switched places with you, laying back on Mattheo’s lap while bringing your hips forward. Steadying yourself on Mattheo’s shoulder, you slowly lowered onto Theo’s face. You grinded against him slowly at first, minding your sensitive sex, but it wasn’t long before you were bucking into his mouth, riding his face like you’d ride his cock.
There was no other word to describe Theo but feral. He gorged himself on you, poking and prodding your wet cunt with his tongue and fingers until your head fell onto Mattheo’s neck, gasping against his skin while Theo’s fingers dug into your hips. You groaned as Mattheo kissed you roughly, whimpering at the overwhelming pressure already building in your core. 
As your moans and screams grew louder and louder, Mattheo gagged your mouth with his fingers, shoving his middle and pointer finger past your lips in an attempt to muffle the noise. 
“Are you trying to wake the whole castle up, princess?” 
“Let her,” Theo said, chuckling darkly as he wrapped his lips around your clit. “Let the whole castle hear what a desperate little slut she is for us.” 
You groaned as Theo picked up the pace, fucking you with his tongue until you were coming undone in his mouth. The second orgasm was an out of body experience. Stars exploded behind your eyes as you came with a cry. You could’ve sworn that you went to heaven and back.
As you collapsed backwards into Theo’s arms, your boyfriend grabbed you by the throat and kissed you. The taste of you lingered on his tongue and your eyes rolled back as Theo’s lips claimed yours. He chuckled when you chased his kisses. 
“Don’t be greedy, pretty girl. Matty wants a taste too.” 
Your lips parted in surprise as Theo grabbed the back of Mattheo’s head and kissed him hard, his tongue flicking over his bottom lip and they both groaned. Theo smiled into the kiss, savoring the taste. He patted Mattheo’s cheek before pulling you into his lap. 
“Such a good girl for us, aren’t you?” Theo cooed, caressing your cheek and rewarding you with neck kisses. “I love when you ride my face. You’re fucking perfect. I’m so proud of you, pretty girl.” 
“Don’t go all soft now, cariño.” Mattheo teased, licking away the remnants of you from the corner of his mouth. “We’re only getting started. We haven’t even fucked her yet.” 
Theo smiled down at you, wiping away the mascara streaks clinging to your cheeks. “Then by all means. Finish the job you started, Matty.”
“I intend to,” Mattheo replied as he loomed over you.
With a wink, Theo spread your legs apart and presented your sopping wet cunt to Mattheo like a present. He reached down and rubbed his middle and pointer finger against your clit, holding your hips in place as you arched off the bed. 
“Look at that. Pretty little pussy’s all nice and wet for us,” Theo said with a chuckle. “You’re so eager, aren’t you? So insatiable, dolcezza. Maybe Mattheo and I should give you a double dose. Fuck you at the same time.” 
“Yes,” you breathed, mewling as Theo continued rubbing lazy circles against your clit. “Please, please, I need it.” 
“Just a cockhungry little slut. You’re fucking greedy, mi amor. Begging for both of our cocks. Don’t worry, baby. We’ll give you what you want. Fill you up like you need.” 
You whimpered in response as Mattheo manhandled you, pushing your face into the pillows while he lifted your perky arse in the air. He kneaded your ass, rubbing his cock along your folds. When you grinded against him for more, Mattheo’s palm landed on your right cheek with a hard smack. As you looked behind you, Theo winked before slapping your left cheek. The sting of his palm burned against your skin, making your eyes water. 
“What’s the matter, bella? I thought you wanted to play.”
“I do,” you breathed, gripping the sheets. “Please, Teddy. I need more. Spank me harder.” 
“Dirty girl,” Theo said fondly. “Ask and you shall receive.” 
As his palm came down on your ass over and over again, you gasped for breath, chasing air while Mattheo lined himself up at your entrance. Theo leaned down to kiss the handprints on your arse, biting softly and embedding his mark onto your skin before mirroring Mattheo’s actions. Theo teased against your puckering hole and nodded at the curly headed boy beside him. 
He placed a soft kiss on Mattheo’s lips. “Ready?” 
“As I’ll ever be,” Mattheo responded with a grin. 
You braced yourself to take both of them, gripping the sheets while they filled you simultaneously. It was a tight fit and you could feel both of your boyfriends stretching your walls.
“Such a good girl,” Theo groaned, moving slowly so you could adjust to his girth. “Letting Matty and I stretch you wide open. Fuck, I love being inside of you. It feels like fucking heaven, tesoro.”
Mattheo groaned in agreement. “Your pussy’s so wet. Does it turn you on to be ruined like this?” You cried in pleasure, mewling as Mattheo took Theo’s hand and placed it on your lower abdomen. “Feel that, mi corazón. Can you feel me fuck her deep, rearranging her insides?” 
“Merda, you two are going to be the death of me.” Theo said, his dead eyes rolling back. “Fuck me, I could cum just watching Matty move inside of you, Y/N.” 
As the two of them moved in sync, you gasped and panted, tears streaming down your cheeks from the overstimulation. There were so many sensations all at once, overloading your senses, making you writhe and whimper while your boyfriends ruined you. Mattheo tilted your chin, praises dripping from his lips, sweat slicked skin glimmering a pretty golden shade in the dim light. 
The hard planes of his abdominal muscles rippled while he fucked you from behind, grasping at the base of your throat until you were gasping for air. “Who’s pussy is this?” Mattheo growled into your ear, his curls tickling your cheek while he released a ragged breath. “Who do you belong to, Y/N?” 
“You and Theo,” you breathed. “Only you and Theo.” 
Theo smiled at your answer, lacing your fingers together. “That’s right, principessa. You’re ours to love, to fuck, to worship. Don’t forget that.” 
“Oh gods,” you moaned, gripping Theo’s hand while wrapping your fingers around the hand that Mattheo had around your neck. “I’m yours and you’re both mine.” 
“Damn fucking right,” Mattheo said with a sharp thrust. 
As Mattheo’s breathing grew more ragged, you and Theo both knew that he would succumb first. Theo fisted Mattheo’s curls in one hand and pulled him in for a filthy kiss, swallowing the cry that left his lips as he came inside of you. The sensation of him filling you up was too much to handle and the orgasm rocked your body, making your limbs seize as that familiar white hot heat blinded your senses. 
Theo was the last to cum, pulling out of your sensitive hole so that Mattheo could wrap his lips around his cock. His endurance was rewarded with vulgar noises as Mattheo gripped his hips in place and sucked him dry.
When your third and final orgasm ran its course, you found yourself laying flat on your back, blinking back up at the ceiling as you regained control of your senses. Through the haze, you blinked and found Theo and Mattheo fussing over you, casting a cleansing spell and wiping your damp forehead with a clean cloth. With a smile, they both leaned in and kissed your cheeks before tucking you safely between them. You hummed, placing a gentle kiss on both of their foreheads. 
“You know you two are all I need, right?” 
Your boyfriends both nodded, curling against you. “Of course, mi corazón.” 
“You’re all we need too, cuore mio.”
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rivertigo · 2 years ago
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lalunanymph · 2 years ago
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— “𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐒”
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˚ ༘♡ ⋆。˚ when you ignite their raging breeding kinks with the bllk men ! ft. itoshi rin, isagi yoichi, barou shouei, nagi seishiro, mikage reo
┊͙ ˘͈ᵕ˘͈ the boys are all pro-players, everyone is 21+ here, fem!reader, breeding kinks, creampies, dirty talk, pet names (baby, angel, love, pretty, princess), nipple play in nagi’s, implied dumbification in barou’s, isagi spanks us once, slight baby-trapping tendencies in reo's, daddy kink, use of the word 'daddy' a lot, everyone has baby fever here bc i said so
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⌖ 𝐈𝐓𝐎𝐒𝐇𝐈 𝐑𝐈𝐍
a soft grunt leaves his lips from your nails stabbing into his shoulders.
rin expels a short huff, burying his face into the crook of your neck, the feel of your velvet walls around him driving him quietly insane. he’s been at this for what seems like hours now—holding your hips down, drilling his cock over and over into the sloppy heat of your pussy, getting drunk off your little whines and mewls.
your thighs tremble around his slim waist, a silent plea for more.
more of this searing pleasure he was gifting you. more of his kisses. more of him.
in every single way you could have him.
"rinny," you hiccup, drowning in the pools of his teal irises. "n-need you."
he presses a soft kiss to your collarbone, achingly tender with his ministrations as he lifts your hand to his mouth, lips on your engagement band. "you have me."
you shook your head from side to side, hair bleeding out on the plush pillows. "n-no. i need more of you." the meaning of your words hammer in from your next squeak, "need you to cum in me."
for a split second, rin malfunctions. his thrusts grow sloppier, his breathing more ragged as the image of his cum spilling out your pretty pussy gets him fucking throbbing.
"want me so bad, hmm, pretty?" his voice warbles and his hips stutter, the pleasure burning in the back of his mind, going off like a set of fireworks. "want me to give you a baby, love?"
the question sets off sparks of heat down your spine, and you cry out when his thrusts grow more vigorous—literally aching to fuck you into the mattress. "yes!" you wail. "w-wanna give you a baby so badly—nghh."
rin rewards you for your honesty with one of his rare grins, touched with a hint of feral possession at the mental image of you so soft—so round—from carrying his precious seed. his warm cheeks rub against your neck, nuzzling you as the band in his lower belly coils harder.
it breaks when you tighten your arms around his neck, your feverish lips pressed to his ear and you whisper,
"wanna make the world's best striker the world's best daddy."
⌖ 𝐈𝐒𝐀𝐆𝐈 𝐘𝐎𝐈𝐂𝐇𝐈
isagi feels like a great beast has overtaken him.
he's no longer gentle with you, holding your hips to keep you wide open as his cock draws out the most ecstatic sounds from your mouth.
"mhmm—'ichi... yoichi... p-please..."
"what's that?" he mocks, using his large frame to his advantage to bear down on you, a touch of lunacy in his wide grin when you cry out at his sudden palm colliding with your plush ass cheek. "what do you want, princess?"
you shudder at the bite of sarcasm in his tone, because as much as he's the sweetest outside the sheets, this isagi was tainted by the enormous ego of having his girlfriend crying out with every bruising slam of his cock against her sensitive spots.
his kisses smudge the back of your neck with hot insistency, and you feel your belly clenching at the overwhelming sensation of isagi everywhere.
his scent of musk and skin stung your nostrils, the rasp of his warm and rough palms down your hips were second to heaven.
"i want you, baby."
isagi grunts, manoeuvring you onto your back, and the look in his eyes could've dropped you down to your knees if you weren't already pliantly taking his cock underneath him. his dark blue eyes were tinted with shades of obsession, his nostrils flaring and mouth pulled back on a pleasured snarl. "m'yours, princess."
his breathing shudders when you rake your nails down his back, hard enough to draw red welts to the surface. "gimme all of you, yoichi," you start to babble, your orgasm so close to drawing you down into the pits of ecstasy. "wanna feel you filling me up, baby."
isagi groans, pitching his forehead close and gently knocking it with yours. "baby... you drive me crazy..."
your thighs hook around his waist, heels digging into his back. literally restraining him in your embrace. your lips brush his cheek, his ear, and you whisper, "give me all of you, 'ichi. want you to make me a mommy."
isagi was a goner the moment those words left your lips; has no choice but to spill his entire load and soul into you, a rough groan ripping from his lips. "ga-fuck... fuck... baby..."
it's lewd, how his seed is spilling out of you. it's even more lewd when you start to rub your clit, drawing your release crashing down and reverberating with a loud, lusty cry of his name.
yoichi doesn't stop pumping his seed into you, even as his cock turns a raw shade of red and a whimper of overstimulation slips out of his lax mouth. he has to keep his promise; has to make you a mommy.
it's what his princess deserves for taking him so nicely ♡
⌖ 𝐁𝐀𝐑𝐎𝐔 𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐄𝐈
everything about barou screams strength.
from his broad shoulders to his defined muscles, the king of the field makes you his conquest with endless pleasure that has you screaming out his name in the middle of the night.
"shouei... mhmm... right there," you pant, one shaky hand brushing back his long locks from his sweaty forehead. "s-so good."
your whines draw his low, throaty chuckle, and despite how deliciously he's wrecking you, barou makes sure to savour your fucked out expressions while he's at it.
"going dumb on my cock already, baby? got you feeling so g-good, huh?"
his baritone rumbles against your throat, and your back arches when he pins you down, deepening his thrusts and languid strokes.
"p-please, give me—" your voice falters when the blunt head of his cock hits your sweet spots, leaving you starry-eyed and keening.
barou smirks, the action lost in your haze of pleasure as you draw him deeper into your body; letting him sink into your plush embrace of pure, unadultered desire for him. as he deserved, as a king deserved.
"what is it, angel?" he's teasing you, having pushed you on your hands and knees to take his cock better. "what do you want me to give you?"
"cum," you manage to gasp out from the haze settling on your bones, around your lucidity. "please give me your cum, daddy."
look, barou is not someone who has given much thought to his future beyond holding the world cup trophy high over his head. but something about your breathy gasp of that word, that term which makes his head spin... has barou going absolutely feral.
he lifts you up onto your knees, one hand caging around your neck and the other reaching forward to rub your clit, pulling dulcet mewls from your parted mouth. "say it again," he demands, unrelenting in this punishment you fully deserve after making your king lose his composure. "call me that again."
you twist your head from side to side, soft mewls slurring together with your pleas for him to fuck you harder, make you cum, make you a mama...
"daddy!" you choke out. "shouei, w-wanna make you a daddy!"
this time, barou's chuckle is laced with painful incredulity, his cock a throbbing hot steel rod deep inside of you, ready to go off.
"that's what i thought you said," his gruff voice stirs the sticky strands of hair on the nape of your neck. "now make your promise to me come true, baby. make me a daddy tonight."
⌖ 𝐍𝐀𝐆𝐈 𝐒𝐄𝐈𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐑𝐎
the thing about nagi is that he frankly couldn't be bothered to exert enough energy when he doesn't feel like it.
but, something about the way how you're clutching his shoulders, breathy moans hitting the shell of his ear along with your sweet little yeahs, more—please, please, has him wanting to give you everything.
nagi's cock throbs where its nestled inside you to the hilt, so deep he swears he's almost hitting your cervix. the look on your face is ecstatic; brows drawn, lower lip caught between your teeth and a film of sweat coating your entire sweet body.
his sharp senses tell him something was different about tonight. from your eagerness to your responses, your entire body was much too sensitive for him.
your sweet reactions only drives out his rationale when he mouths at your nipples, suckling them into tight little points that make you mewl out in pleasure.
"sei... more, please," you beg, threading your fingers through his frosty locks. "m'want you... more of you."
"yeah?" he mutters, the wet sounds of both your sexes meeting so fucking lewd in this wide bedroom. with the lights of the city beyond the windows shining on your body, you start to unravel, your back arching. "how much do you want me, baby?"
"so much," you start to breath heavier, lifting his face from where it was resting in the crook of your neck to line your forehead with his. "i want you forever. want your babies."
something thuds heavily in his chest, and nagi swears his thoughts are broken when he recalls you carrying your niece in your arms, all happy and radiant. the possibility of it being his baby, his little one in that image itself, makes both his cock and heart swell.
before he knows it, nagi has you bouncing up and down his cock, his heels digging into the bed, every bit of his energy directed towards making sure he shoots his load far enough so that it scores in your womb, turning your words into reality.
nagi may be lackadaisical in more ways than one, but when fired up enough, he had enough determination to make sure he would never lose the fight to get you all pretty and swollen with his babies.
⌖ 𝐌𝐈𝐊𝐀𝐆𝐄 𝐑𝐄𝐎
reo has to fight off the smile that threatens to spill from his lips.
just an hour ago, you were cooing at his director’s newborn son, and now, he has you on his lap, mewling his name so prettily as his mind fills up with endless images of you—naked, belly rounded with pregnancy, positively glowing from carrying his baby.
he snorts inwardly at how hard that mental image makes him throb. it's about damn time you take him up on his marriage proposal.
reo wasn't getting anymore patient and he had to do something—make sure you were glued to his side forever. and what better way to do that than to make you a mommy to his babies?
yes, babies, because in the thrill of knocking you up, reo finds himself wanting to do this again and again and again.
"so good for me," he mumbles, kneading handfuls of your ass until you start to tremble. tears bead your lash line, but reo doesn’t care to go easy on you.
after all, he has to make sure his seed will take tonight.
"r-reo, what's gotten into you?" despite your breathless confusion, your thighs tighten around his waist, and his frantic thrusting turns even more erratic.
he expels one lusty moan into the crook of your neck, and you whimper when the rough strip of his tongue glides across your pulse point and jaw, tangling with your own appendage when he kisses you deeply.
you were so sweet for him, and reo wishes for nothing more than to have you forever.
"gonna have to make you mine," he whispers, as if the promise ring on your finger, his initials on a delicate chain around your neck and his cock stirring your guts were not indicative that you were his in every sense of the word.
but, reo has always been a greedy man and he wants more than that. he always wants more when it comes to you.
you mewl his name, and his smile threatens to spill into a feral grin.
"wanna give you my babies, y/n. wanna make you mine forever."
in the fog of your lust, you don't hear the chiming bells in your head, swept away by his ardour. "mhm, reo, please. give me your babies."
it was enough of a permission for him to snap his hips up, spilling into you with hot spurts of cum, leaving you light-headed and sated. your breathless laugh tickles his ear and you ease out from his tight embrace, his cock softening deep in you. gently pushing aside his lilac bangs from his face, you cup his cheek, rubbing your nose with his.
"you're so silly, reo. m'yours forever, don't you know?"
his grip on your hip tightens, and he tosses you back another one of his signature smirks. "i know, baby, but after tonight, i want more, hmm. can you give me more?"
despite staining you with seed just a few seconds ago, reo's hard again, his veins and determination heated with the idea of completely filling you to the brim with his cum until it takes. until you're finally pregnant and fully reliant on him.
he gently cups your cheek, moving his hand down to your neck where his grip becomes harder. more possessive.
"can you make me a daddy tonight, angel?"
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© all work belongs to lalunanymph. do not copy, repost or claim as your own.
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angelsforthenight · 10 months ago
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BEYOND SALVAGE — ellie williams x fem!reader.
a catholic boarding school AU pt 1 🍓
pt 2 here!
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you’re somebody that’s virtuous, staying in an all girls catholic boarding school. fallen victim to the vast fear of god, you try your hardest not to sin. however what happens when an embarrassing incident catches a certain rogue girl’s attention — who absolutely reeks of sin?
content: heavy religious talk, catholic, holy! reader, rebel!ellie, quiet!reader, player!ellie, ellie has piercings, ‘lil raunchy but no smut (yet heheh), v brief mention of drugs, v brief mention of porn.
a/n: this is a rewrite of a fic i did back in the summer! i had accidentally (and stupidly) deleted my account :,) let’s pray people see this.
having lived in a catholic boarding school for half of your life, it’s only natural you were heavily religious. the fear of god plagued you like a disease. you were nailed on following the Word, and earning a seat in heaven — not it’s roaring, fiery counterpart.
you were a good girl: always following the rules the sisters bestowed upon you. always deemed as pure, and untainted. you prayed every night without fail: knelt beside your bed, elbows against the mattress, hands clasped together.
you had always tried your hardest to stray away from sin. however, there’d be temptations, of course. for instance, that one time you caught a bunch of girls in your dorm giggling and squealing at a porno-magazine they had randomly found somewhere. you had accidentally caught a very brief glimpse at a woman flaunting her tits and you couldn’t quite put your finger on it, but it made you feel something. a needy little throb between your thighs. that night, consumed with guilt, you had prayed so hard that your head hurt.
oh, and if we’re talking about temptations? ELLIE WILLIAMS had to be the hardest one yet.
take the word sinful and ellie would come to mind. she was someone you had always tried your best to avoid. rebellious, brash and cocky. it was said she was forced here as punishment from her parents. she had always been hard to discipline: had piercings (spider bites and one on her right brow), always snuck out and was notorious for smuggling in drugs.
even though ellie was a pain, there was no way the nuns could expel her since her parents sponsored the school a generous amount. they had to resort to seeing ellie as someone they could “save.”
whenever she roamed the hallways, every girl would scramble to move out of her way. she was incredibly intimidating and got into fights whenever she wanted to — both with students AND the sisters. of course you wouldn’t want to mess with her.
there were also numerous rumours circling around about her. too many to count, but one stuck with you the most: that she gets it on with girls. hearing from your gossip-gripped friends that ellie had fucked a handful of girls in your school had surprised you. you were brutally naive, so preoccupied with seeming good in the eyes of the Lord that you weren’t aware that something like that could happen. this had only made you want to stay away from ellie even more.
you were quiet, so timid and meek that you believed yourself lucky to actually have friends. your quietness allowed ellie not to notice you, not even be aware of your existence despite you two being in a lot of the same classes. you didn’t mind — in fact, you were glad. relieved, even.
that is, until the school’s annual sports day.
it was a scorching hot day in the middle of june and many of the girls were excited. not particularly because of the sports but because every time, the neighbouring all boys school would join yours. a classic boys versus girls. you didn’t really care whether the boys were here or not, as opposed to your friends who were all bashful and red-faced. you found it understandable considering they’re sheltered away from them most of the time. bless them.
you and your friends were leaning against the fence of the tennis court. you were so hot that your t-shirt stuck to the small of your back, little baby hairs glued to your forehead. bored from all the boy-talk, your eyes decided to drift to a certain auburn-haired girl: manspreading on the bench right across from you. you wondered how a woman could sit so unladylike.
ellie was out of breath, probably from doing a running activity. there was visible sweat gleaming on the corner of her forehead and her cheeks were pink. god knows why, but you allowed yourself to prolong your stare. you watched as ellie grabbed her water bottle, gulping down desperate sips; some of the water spilling and dripping down her slender neck. you watched as the skin on her neck bobbed as she sipped, heard as she panted breathlessly like a dog. you felt the skin on your cheeks begin to prickle, and you suddenly found it hard to breathe. when her pale green eyes caught yours, you immediately looked away, turning your attention back to your friends. that was the first time you two had ever made eye contact.
a moment later, it was your group’s turn to play tennis. ellie remained perched on the bench, and as you waited in the queue to have a go on batting the ball, you happened to be quite near her. you tried your very best to play it cool. ellie paid no attention, spaced-out and obviously too lazy to participate in the activities.
there were also boys in the queue, right behind you, which had got your girls in a frenzy. one of your friends decided to push you against them. “oops” she would say before purposely bumping you towards them again and again. you were awkward and uncomfortable, but you had played it off and giggled, acting as if it was funny. at a point, she accidentally pushed you too hard which made you lose your balance; stumbling on your heel and falling backwards. right onto ellie’s lap. yep! her lap.
“woah?” ellie said, caught off guard. “oh shit. go. go!” your so-called friends murmured as they scrambled off, leaving you completely and utterly humiliated. you immediately bolted off her lap as you turned around to look at her.
“i’m really sorry. that was— i mean, my f-friends were…” you began to ramble, feeling your whole body turn hot. ellie’s lips cracked up into an amused grin.
“it’s chill. not very often you get a cute girl sitting on your lap for less than a second.” she chuckled. you blushed immensely, before rapidly nodding and speeding away.
if only your little innocent self knew how quick things would change…
a/n: hooked? read pt 2 here!
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fangswbenefits · 1 year ago
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For Science
𓂅 𓄹 Summary: There has been a rumour circulating in regards to Miguel’s venom. It has to be too far-fetched, right?
𓂅 𓄹 Pairing: Miguel O’Hara x spider-woman!reader
𓂅 𓄹 Warnings: 18+. Fangs. Biting. Venom!play (is that a thing?).
You eyed Jessica Drew with utmost interest as she worked her way around Miguel’s surveillance station, easily dragging files in and out of the multiple screens.
“Why do you get access to his stuff and I don’t?” you asked as sudden jealousy crept in.
“We go way back,” she started, pulling some information to her watch. “You’ll get there in time…”
Your ego soared.
“… if you don’t keep annoying him.”
It immediately plummeted.
“He’s easy to piss off,” you beamed. “And I’m easily entertained. What can I say? Match made in heaven.”
She chuckled at your antics. “Just don’t get yourself expelled.”
You nodded and waved your hand dismissively. “Yeah, yeah. So have you heard that rumour about him?”
Jessica finished setting up her watch and mission logs and threw you a suspicious look.
“Well… the one that says his venom does more than causing paralysis,” you wiggled your eyebrows, letting the not so subtle implication dangle.
“You know what? One day Miguel is going to kick you out and I won’t do anything about it.”
“What? I didn’t come up with this!”
It was absolutely true. You hard heard it from some spiders one night while strolling throught the lobby. Rumours came and went. No one thought much of them and these were just harmless fun.
“Well, I’m not commenting on this.”
“Fine! But it’s fascinating.”
Jessica sighed, rotated on her feet and went down the stairs. “You can go ask Miguel, then.”
“Ask Miguel what?”
You froze in place as spider-man 2099 entered the dark room, eying both of you.
“Oh, I’m out,” Jessica snorted, heading towards the exit. “You two have fun.”
Miguel kept his gaze on your and you waved a hand at him.
He frowned.
“Lyla, reroute all the main sectors to earth-1610,” he said, pressing on his dimensional travel watch. “Any possibility of a canon event being disrupted must be reported to Jessica.”
The AI appeared next to him and adjusted her heart-shaped glassed up the bridge of her nose. “Is she tagging along, too?” she pointed at you.
He shook his head. “Not a chance. She’s more useful here.”
“Hey!” you were about to protest, but decided against it.
You knew there was a compliment in there somewhere. Your past missions had not gone without some minor bumps, which was why it had been decided the previous day that you’d tag along Miguel for a couple of weeks to hone your off-field abilities.
“Anything major must be reported to me.”
Jessica nodded but Lyla was not so easily dismissed. “I didn’t hear you say iiit.”
Miguel rolled his eyes. “Thank you for your services as always, Lyla.”
She took a dramatic bow and vanished.
He took large steps towards the platform, greeting you with a curt nod.
How would you describe your relationship with Miguel O’Hara? Tense? On the verse of collapse each time you teased him? Friendly? But only when you didn’t have to spend more than one hour together.
“Morning to you, too, boss,” you saluted.
He let out an exasperated sigh as he checked the screens in front of him.
Maybe you should go easy on him. You were already on thin ice, but just adored pushing him. There was something about teasing him that just did wonders to you.
“Did you sleep well? Did you get some food?”
“Don’t start getting on my nerves.”
You raised both hands, feigning a look of innocence. “I did nothing. You’re paranoid.”
His head turned to you.
“You do have an issue obeying the chain of command. Your last mission was a disaster, because you got into an argument with Peter instead of focusing on the anomaly — don’t interrupt me!” he said pinching the bridge of his nose as you were about to defend yourself. “You have much to offer, but you’re also all over the place and lack discipline. I don’t think you—”
You gave him a jaw-popping yawn which effectively cut him off.
“Oh, I’m sorry. Am I boring you?” he asked, voice dripping with sarcasm. “You do know that I was pressured by others to let go of you.”
A long pause stretched out.
“Then why didn’t you?”
In your mind, you had hoped your growing friendship with him had played a part, but…
“You have potential,” he said with a sigh. “One day you might even be better than me.”
Well, that was a high praise and your spine snapped straight instantly. “Really?”
“Maybe… probably not,” he concluded. “But if you keep your focus and work hard, you will be a very skilled spider.”
You rolled your eyes. “Woah, thanks a bunch!”
In truth, you knew Miguel was trying his best to smooth over your bruised ego, but your pride got the best of you.
“Any questions you have, just let me know,” he said reassuringly while glancing at the screens in front of him.
“I can ask anything?”
“Yes.”
“Sooo… have you heard that rumour about your venom?”
It was too early in the day to be so serious, so you genuinely saw no harm in lightening the mood.
He threw you a side glance. “Be specific.”
“Well… that it can cause extreme pleasure,” you blurted out. “Oh, besides the paralysis thingy,” you quickly added.
Miguel turned to fully face you. “I don’t even want to know where that came from.”
Deep down, you felt a pang of disappointment. It would be such an interesting finding.
“Ah, so it’s not true.”
“Probably not.”
That piqued your interest. “Probably? So there’s a chance? It’s just so fascinating, because you’re already so different from the rest of us,” you started rambling not able to hold back your enthusiasm. “Now this is just an added layer!”
You were a scientist at heart and Miguel was pretty much an outlier when it came to being a spider-man. For months you had been trying to let him agree to you running some tests, but to no avail.
In all honesty, Miguel knew his way around science and the inner workings of biology better than you could ever, so he had no reason to indulge your curiosity.
“How do you do it? Is it the same venom or a different one?”
“Why do you want to know?”
“Science, remember?”
It was a half truth, though. Yes, this would be mind-blowing science-wise, but this was also about Miguel O’Hara. The very man who had been guiding you through spider society for months. The same men who whose genius and dedication had built the foundations of the spider society.
He now had both hands on his hips and you figured you were already pushing it too far, but enjoyed doing it too much to stop now.
“Can you just tell me how it works? Please?” You clasped your hands together into a beg, hoping it would be enough to bait him for information.
But Miguel remained unfazed.
“No.”
“I won’t tell anyone,” you offered expectantly.
He didn’t budge.
“Please, pretty please?” you tried once again.
Nothing.
“I’ll bring you empanadas every single day from now on,” you enthused. “On demand! Whenever you have those cravings. Two in the morning? Check! Canon event disrupted and universes imploding? Check!”
Miguel quirked an eyebrow. “Do you ever shut up?”
“Is that a yes?”
“No.”
“Just show me how it works,” you sounded desperate by now. Arguing with Miguel ranked high up with the likes of trying to move a boulder with a wooden fork. “How did you get it to work?”
His eyes to widened slightly. “Show you?” he started out. “Are you asking me to pleasure you?”
Now that was probably on your top three of ‘Things you never expect Miguel O’Hara to say’.
“Oh — I mean… well… what?” you stammered, caught by surprise. “I didn’t — you know… huh…”
He only glared at your babbling self.
“Are you… offering?”
Miguel extended his arm to you. “Give me your hand.”
You panicked. “What? Now?”
“For science, right?”
Point taken.
You hesitated momentarily. “You’re not going to paralyse me, right?”
“Do you want me to?”
You offered your hand for him to grip, flipping it palm up. “No.”
“Then I won’t.”
Miguel’s voice was so flat he could just be reading items off a grocery list.
His gloved fingers traced the heel of your palm and his eyes darted down. You held your breath at the sight of him lowering his head. “This might sting.”
And just like that, you watched in complete awe as Miguel O’hara bared his fangs, slowly raking them across your skin before digging into the flesh.
“Ouch!”
Your stomach turned and your heart fluttered as his warm lips grazed the spot he had just bitten. Two circular and symmetrical openings pooled with a tiny amount if blood.
“So? Do you feel a wave of intense carnal bliss?” Miguel asked, straightening up and brushing the droplets away with his thumb.
You merely stood there, waiting for something — anything — to kick in. But as tense seconds ticked by, it was evident nothing was happening.
“No…”
He shrugged, letting go of your hand to tap his watch. “Ah, well. My pleasuring abilities must be below par this morning.”
You scowled at him and considered smashing his arm with a fist. “You could have just said it was all a lie!” you grunted in sheer annoyance, feeling like an idiot. “Now I’m bleeding to death.”
“You’re not going to die.”
“You’re annoying,” you huffed as you checked the bite marks.
“It’s not a lie. I can indeed inject an innocuous version of my venom that can be quite pleasurable,” he said.
“Then do it!” you said, your temper flaring.
Miguel wasn’t one to take orders. He was much more into being the one to call the shots, but your curiosity was eating you alive now that he had revealed that this rumour had some truth to it.
He was now looming over you, his impressive height adding to the tension. “It depends on where I inject the venom. Certain places are more effective,” his voice was uncharacteristicly low as his eyes landed on your neck. “This is just scientific curiosity, right?”
Your mouth had gone too dry to reply, so you just shrugged. Miguel had you taking a few steps back until your lower back hit the railing that lined the platform, causing your hands to clasp around it reflexively.
“Tilt your head.”
You did as you were told and felt his fingers tracing along your jaw, angling you just the way he wanted.
“Hold on tight,” he said, breath now fanning the prickling skin of your neck. “Tell me to stop if it’s too much.”
Feeling your face heat up from the sudden close proximity, you closed your eyes as if embracing for impact. He pressed his lips to your pulse point before digging his fangs slowly into you.
Your mouth dropped open, aghast, and you finally felt it. His venom poured from the fangs and into your bloodstream, spreading through your veins like wildfire. At first, it was just merely a pleasant sensation, like the one you’d get as you finally drank water after a hot day in the sun.
But it soon turned into something else, and unlike water, the new overwhelming feeling was leaving you thirstier with each thump of your racing heart.
Miguel had his hand on the back of your neck, keeping you in place. He moaned first — no, he grunted —, and you felt a jolt of almost painful pleasure shot down your spine and spread between your thighs.
Your grip on the metal surface wavered momentarily and you feared you might fall, but were firmly grounded by his other hand on your waist. It didn’t take long until your clit started throbbing in unison with your heartbeat.
“Miguel… this… this…”
Suddenly, your suit felt too tight and in the way, especially once he pressed lightly into you.
The venom was no longer being injected, but the remnants of it were enough to wreak havoc throughout your body.
“It’s just for science…” he growled, pulling his fangs away from you. “Does it feel good?”
You didn’t dare open your eyes and could only gasp when you felt him push his erection into you.
“Yeah… science… or whatever…” you gasped, feeling yourself being pushed over the edge with each second that passed.
Just when you thought your orgasm would hit you slowly, Miguel tilted your head to the side, exposing the intact skin.
You gripped his wrist as if holding on for dear life, fearing you’d explode. “Again?”
“Your body is neutralising my venom too fast,” he rumbled, lips hovering a sensitive spot. “I need to inject more.”
“Miguel…” you nearly cried out at the thought of your heart no being able to handle the intense pleasure.
“Look at me.”
Your breathing evened briefly as you did as commanded, his red eyes fixed on yours, pupils fully blown.
“Think you can do this?”
You blinked.
“I know you can take more.”
Your clit was now throbbing at an alarming rate at the promise of more of him.
Miguel flashed you his blood-tipped fangs before sinking them into you once again.
The liquid traveled through your body so fast, you felt like someone had punched the air out of your lungs. You vaguely wondered if you would die from this, and concluded that there were worse ways to go.
Being on the receiving end of Miguel’ dry humps would be enough to make anyone tip over the edge, let alone with the added layer of venom engulfing you into an explosive orgasm.
Your vision blurred in an instant as spams and contractions swept through your body. The friction of his clothed cock rubbing against your clit had you arch your back into him, feeling the bittersweet realisation that you were clamping around nothing. You weren’t sure if this was his venom’s doing, but you felt an overwhelming part of you wishing he had been inside you.
It hurt.
It hurt so good and lasted for so long, you like crying from the overwhelming tide of pleasure.
Miguel gave you time to ride out your orgasm, pressing a bloodied kiss to your lips, swallowing your cries.
Metallic taste filled your mouth and you broke away from him, gasping for air.
Your eyes landed on his crotch.
He was hard. Painfully hard. A faint stain of precum seeping through the material of his suit.
“You okay?”
You bent over, hands on your knees and laboured breaths.
“Are you?” you managed in between gasps.
Miguel crouched to eye-level with you. “I think you owe me one.”
“Yeah…” you nodded, swallowing hard. “Thanks for the… scientific… huh… demonstration.”
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writingwithcolor · 11 months ago
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How can non-Jewish writers include Jewish characters in supernatural stories without erasing their religion in the process?
Anonymous asked:
I have a short story planned revolving around the supernatural with a Jewish character named Danielle (who uses they/them pronouns). Danielle will be one of a trio who will be solving the mystery of two brides' deaths on the day of their wedding. My concern with this is the possibility of accidentally invalidating Danielle's religion by focusing on a secular view of the afterlife. At the same time, I don't want to assume that Jewish people can't exist in paranormal stories, nor do I want to use cultural elements that don't belong to me. So, how do I make sure that Danielle is included in the plot without erasing their Jewishness?
Okay so to start with I think we need to ask a question about the premise: what is a secular afterlife? I’m not asking this to nitpick or be petty, but to offer you expanded ways of thinking through this issue and maybe others as well.
A Secular Afterlife
What is a secular afterlife? To begin with, I get what you mean. The idea of an afterlife we see in pop culture entities like ghost media owes more to a mixture of 19th-century spiritualist tropes drawn from titillating gothic novels than to anything preached from the pulpit of an organized house of worship. Yet those tropes--the ominous knocking noises from beyond, the spectral presences on daguerrotype prints, the sudden chill and the eerie glow, all of those rely on the idea of there being something beyond this life, some continuation of the spirit when the body has ceased to breathe. For that, you need to discount the ideas that the consciousness has moved on to another physical body and is currently living elsewhere, and that it was never separate from the body and has now ceased to exist. Can we say that this is secular?
More so: Gothic literature, as the name suggests, draws heavily on Catholic imagery, even when it avoids explicit references to Catholicism. Aside from the architectural imagery, Catholic religious symbols permeate the genre, as well as the larger horror and supernatural media genres that grew from it: Dracula flinches from a crucifix, priests expel demons from human bodies, Marley’s Ghost haunts Ebenezer Scrooge in chains. The concepts of heaven and hell, and nonhuman beings who dwell in those places, are critical to making the narratives work. 
The basis also draws from a biblical story, that of the Witch of Endor. The main tropes of Victorian spiritualism are present: Saul never sees the ghost of Samuel, only the Witch of Endor is able to see “A divine being rising” from wherever he rises from, and her vague description, “I see an old man rising, wearing a robe,” evokes the cold readings of charlatan mediums into the present (Indeed, some rabbinic sources commenting on this assert that this is exactly what was going on).
While neither of these views of its origin define the genre as the sole property of Catholicism--or of Judaism for that matter--it would be hard exactly to categorize them as secular.
A Jewish Perspective on ghosts
However, it’s not the case that ghost media is incompatible with Jewishness, assuming that it doesn’t commit to a view of heaven and hell duality that specifically embraces a Christian spiritual framework. 
Jewish theology is noncommittal on the subject of the afterlife. The idea of a division between body and soul in the first place is found in ancient Egypt, for instance, earlier than the earliest Jewish texts. In Jewish text it’s present in narratives like the creation story, in which God crafts a human body out of earth and then breathes life into it once it’s complete. It also appears in our liturgy: the blessings prescribed to be recited at the beginning of the day juxtapose Elohai Neshama, a blessing for the soul, with Asher Yatzar, expressing gratitude for the body, recited by many after successfully using the bathroom. 
Yet it’s not clear that this life-force is something separate than the body that lives beyond it, until the apparition of the Witch of Endor. The words we use to describe it, whatever it is, evoke the process of breathing rather than that of eternal life: either ruach (spirit, or wind) or neshama (soul, or breath): neither is a commitment to the idea that it does--or that it doesn’t--go somewhere else when the body returns to the earth. 
Jewish folklore, however, leans into the idea of ghosts and other spiritual beings inhabiting the earthly plane (and others). Perhaps most famous is the 1937 movie The Dybbuk, in which a young scholar engaging in kabbalistic practices calls upon dark forces to unite him and his fated love, only to find himself possessing her body as a dybbuk. It appears that he is about to be successfully exorcized, but ultimately when his soul leaves her body, hers does as well. 
More relevantly to your story, a Jewish folktale inspired the movie The Corpse Bride. In the folktale version, a newly-engaged man jokingly recites the legal formula he will soon recite at his wedding, and places his ring on the finger of a nearby corpse--a reference to a time when antisemitic violence is said to have gotten worse not only at Jewish and Christian holidays as it does still to this day, but around Jewish weddings as well. The murdered bride stands up, a corpse reanimated complete with consciousness, and demands that the bridegroom honor his legal obligation. 
In the movie, the bride gives up her demand willingly: her claim on him is emotional rather than legal, and she finally accepts that he has an emotional connection with another person, that he doesn’t love her. In the folk tale, the dead woman takes him to court to decide whether their marriage is legal, since he spoke the legal words to her in front of witnesses as is required, and the court rules that the dead do not have the right to make legal demands on the living. In this version, the moral of the story is that a legal formula is an obligation; that when he jokingly bound himself to the corpse, he not only disrespected the dead but also the legal framework that structures society, and by so doing risked being obligated to keep his side of a contract he never intended to enact. 
This speaks to the ways that a Jewish outlook can differ from a Christian-influenced “secular” one. Christian-influenced cultural ideas can often focus around feeling the right thing, while Jewish stories will often center on doing the right thing. Does the Corpse Bride leave because she realizes she is not the one he loves? Because she--or he--learned a valuable lesson? Or because she loses her court case? It’s not that the boy’s emotions are irrelevant to the story--the tension, the suspense, the horror of the story takes place primarily within the boy’s emotional landscape--but emotions on their own are not a solution. The question “should he marry her” can be answered emotionally, but “has he married her” can only be answered by a legal expert, and once it has been the deceased bride may not have changed her emotional attachment to him, but she no longer has legal standing to pursue her claim. 
Centering legal rectitude over emotional catharsis isn’t a requirement for having Jewish characters in your story, but it’s worth thinking about what is and isn’t universal, what is and isn’t actually all that secular. 
Meanwhile, back at the topic:
Where does any of this place Danielle?
Well, unless you’re positing a universe in which Christian or other deities or cosmologies are confirmed to exist (See Jewish characters in a universe with author-created fictional pantheons for more on that topic), there’s no reason why they shouldn’t be perfectly fine interacting with whatever the setting you’re building throws at them. 
My wishlist for this character and setting runs more to the general things to consider when writing fantasy settings with Jewish characters: 
Don’t confirm or imply that Jesus is a divine being. That means no supernatural items like splinters of the cross, grails, nails, veils, etc. There’s nothing particularly powerful or empowering about this one guy who lived and died like so many others.
Don’t show God’s body and especially not God’s face, or confirm that any other gods or deities exist, whether that’s Jesus, Aphrodite, or Anubis, or someone you made up for the context. 
Don’t put Danielle in a position where they’re going to play into an antisemitic trope like child murder, blood drinking, world domination, or financial greed. If you have to, name it and let Danielle express discomfort with or distaste for those actions both because Jewish values explicitly oppose all of those things but also because Danielle as a Jewish character would be painfully aware of these stereotypes as present and historical excuses for antisemitic violence. 
Do consider what Danielle’s personal practice might look like. What does Danielle do on Shabbat? What do they eat or refrain from eating? What are their memories of Jewish holidays and how is their current holiday observance different than their childhood? I know I say “Jewishness is diverse” on every ask, but it is, and these questions--which also underscore how very much Judaism is rooted in one’s actions during this life--will help you develop how Judaism actually functions to inform Danielle’s character, even if you don’t spell out the answers to each of these questions in text. 
Do let Danielle find joy, comfort, and identity in their Jewishness not just in contrast with Christianity but simply because it’s part of the wholeness of their character. I know the primary representation of Jewishness is a snappy one-liner in a Christmas episode followed by the Jewish character joining in the Christmas spirit, blue edition, but make room for Jewishness to inform how Danielle approaches the events of your story, or why they decide to get or stay involved.  
-Meir
Hi it’s Shira with some Jewish ghost story recs written from inside–
When The Angels Left the Old Country by Sacha Lamb (deliriously good queer YA Jewish paranormal, mainstream enough that it’s got a good chance of being at your local library and won all kinds of awards)
The Dyke and the Dybbuk by Ellen Galford (sorry for the slur, warning for a paragraph of biphobia in the book but it’s an older book. I read this right before my divorce so my memories are super fuzzy but it’s about this modern day lesbian who gets possessed by the ghost of a different lesbian from hundreds of years earlier in Jewish history.) Nine of Swords Reversed by Xan West z’L of blessed memory - another queer Jewish paranormal.
The general plot is that two partners are struggling with how to be honest with each other about the effect disability is having on them. It’s got a very warm and fuzzy cozy vibe but kink culture is central to the worldbuilding so if that isn’t your vibe I didn’t want you to go in unaware.
The Dybbuk in Love by Sonya Taaffe. I don’t remember the details but I remember loving it, it’s m/f and romance between possessor and possessed.
I wrote a really short one called A Man of Taste where a gentile vampire woman and a Jewish ghost/dybbuk get together.
~S
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connorsui · 18 days ago
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Safe Heaven
• Zayne x fem! reader
Genre/warnings: fluff, hints of angst (feelings of guilt), childbirth, comfort end , mild vurnability, feelings of helplessness, mentions of heart problems, slight mentions of anxiety and stress, we are not having a good time here..but that's okay!
Synopsis: zayne reassures you of his love as you cover from childbirth
Note: my lawwwdddd it's been such a long time without seeing any of you inside of my house..it feels so foreign ..breaks my heart into little pieces ..howeverrr this moment of silence didn't mean I was left with nothing inside of these neurons of mine-- ur beloved consui has thoughts ..and thoughts she must expel in the form of zayne 🩶
wc: 1.3K
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“Every passing day…” you began, your voice almost a whisper, “I feel as though I am becoming more of a burden to you.”
The words hung in the stillness of the room as you lay upon the bed, your gaze fixed upon Zayne, who tenderly cradled the slumbering form of your newborn. The night had settled in with a serene quiet, broken only by the soft, rhythmic sound of the baby’s gentle feeding. Moonlight streamed through the curtains, bathing the room in a silvery glow that softened the edges of everything, lending an air of tranquility to the tender scene before you.
Zayne’s eyes flickered to yours, his brow furrowing ever so slightly in quiet confusion, as though he were searching for the meaning behind your words. “Mmh?” he murmured, his voice a soft note that seemed to vibrate through the still air.
"What do you mean?"
Your heart stirred beneath his gaze, and though you tried to muster a smile, it faltered, laden with the weight of the self-doubt that had quietly gnawed at you. You averted your eyes, feeling the warmth of a slight flush creeping upon your cheeks. “I mean… it has been two weeks since they released me, and I have done nothing to aid since I returned,” you continued, your voice growing softer, almost apologetic. “I cannot help but feel as though I'm—”
Before you could continue, Zayne’s hand, warm and gentle, reached toward your face. His fingertips grazed your cheek with a softness that seemed to still your very breath, his touch lingering just enough to still the torrent of your words. He guided your face to meet his, his expression tender and unwavering, his gaze soft with something unspoken. With a faint smile that reached the depths of his eyes, he whispered a quiet, soothing shush, the sound more comforting than any words you had ever heard.
“Dont say it..." he said gently, his gaze never leaving yours.
“Your only concern should be your own rest, your own recovery… and holding our child with me...” He paused as if steadying himself, his eyes shadowed by memories of a time he wished never to revisit. “You know...when they told me your heart wasn’t faring well during the birth… I can not explain it. It felt as though my very world was fracturing before me. All I could think—” his voice broke, but he steadied it with a soft, trembling breath— “was that I needed you to stay with me with our child in your arms... I suppose at that giving moment I just wanted to see you safe ..in one place..not having to stress over anything ... even now"
The words struck your heart, stirring a depth of emotion you hadn’t anticipated. You sat up, your gaze fixed on him, your breath caught between disbelief and sorrow as you absorbed his admission. Your eyes grew cloudy, softening with tears as you looked from Zayne’s face to the child resting peacefully in his arms, blissfully unaware of the turmoil their entrance into the world had caused.
A tear slipped down your cheek, followed by another, and you looked to your lap, your shoulders trembling. “Zayne, I'm - … I didn’t mean…” you began, but your voice faltered, words catching in your throat. You hadn’t meant to burden him, hadn’t meant to leave him with the fear that your heart might fail you. The mere thought that your own weakness had caused him such distress made you feel small, vulnerable—a helplessness you had seldom allowed yourself to feel.
But before you could stumble further, Zayne’s hand reached out, his fingers warm and reassuring as he placed them under your chin and lifted your face to his. “No,” he whispered, his voice as tender as the night itself. “Stop. Do not apologize for anything” he continued, his gaze so steady, so filled with love that it was nearly overwhelming. " I may worry for your health—and you know that I will— it comes straight from my heart. You are everything to me, and nothing will change that, not even fear."
In that moment, you felt the warmth of his hand, the strength of his embrace, drawing you closer to his chest, with your child nestled gently between you. His heart beat steadily beneath your ear, a reminder of his constancy, his unyielding devotion. You raised your face, your eyes shining as you met his gaze, and you leaned in, pressing a kiss to his lips that held every ounce of your gratitude, your love, your devotion—a silent promise that only he could understand.
When you drew back, you looked at him with all the tenderness in your heart. “You have given me more love than I ever thought possible,” you murmured, your voice a quiet reverence. “You have shown me, again and again, that I am cherished. I have no words to tell you how much that means… but I am yours, Zayne. Yours alone.”
A soft, awed smile touched his lips as he took in your words, and with gentle care, he rose, instructing you to lie back down. “Rest now,” he whispered, his tone one of loving insistence as he cradled your child close, “I’ll settle our son to sleep.” You watched as he moved to the crib, his steps tender, his every movement imbued with a quiet grace. You thought of all he had done for you in these recent days—how he had bathed you with gentle hands, had held you as you struggled to regain your strength, had prepared every meal and tended to every need without question or complaint.
And as you lay curled on the bed, a warmth settled within your chest, a happiness so profound it was almost a reverence. This man, who loved you so dearly, who had stood by you through every hardship, was yours, and you could wish for no greater gift.
When Zayne returned, slipping beneath the covers, you felt the bed dip beside you, and soon his arms encircled you once more, drawing you close until your cheek rested against his chest, where you could hear the steady thrum of his heart. His scent, warm and familiar, enveloped you, and you felt your cheeks grow warm beneath his touch.
Zayne leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead, his voice a murmur of quiet devotion. “I love you,” he whispered, the words laced with a depth that only the most profound affections could contain.
A long, comfortable silence fell between you, a silence filled with the unspoken promises of a love that could never be shaken. At last, you whispered back, your voice barely more than a breath. “I love you too.”
In that moment, wrapped in his embrace, you felt truly, indescribably at peace.
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If zayne was my doctor I would find ways to get myself in the ER just to see him
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