#fear is not how you should rule yourself or others
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doromoni · 3 hours ago
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I’m your what? | CL16
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Ships : Charles Leclerc x University student! Reader
Genre : Fluff
Summary : Last thing you remember was you were studying for your finals, but now you find yourself face to face with Charles Leclerc and he’s claiming that you’re his girlfriend!
Masterlist
Your eyes fluttered open as you felt a headache forming in your temple. Clicking your tongue in annoyance, you massaged your head trying to smooth the throbbing sensation. You swore that someone was pummeling a sledgehammer to your head at this point. Your hands once again lifted from the soft silk sheets as you tried to soothe your aching head.
Wait… Silk sheets?? since when could you afford silk?? Last you’ve checked you were broke and on the verge of financial abandonment. In the middle of your confusion, your eyes focused on the wall in front of you. When did your room transform into something so fancy? Your eyes started to dart all across the room.
A piano, a dog bed, and racing helmets? Just where the fuck are you?!! You started to panic, thinking you were kidnapped in your sleep or something. You felt your breath quicken and your sweat falling onto your neck
You tried sitting up, but you groan at the sharp pain that went straight through your spine and your head landed back on the softest pillow you have ever experienced— it felt like a cloud and a million bucks.
Slowly, with regulated inhales and exhales, you tried to calm yourself down and open your eyes once again. But nope, you were still panicking. Your mind started to swirl in different directions. Still clouded with confusion, you moved your head to the side and you stared at the grand piano sitting spotless and shining on the side of the room.
Who the hell is rich enough to have a grand piano inside their room?! Did you get kidnapped by a billionaire or something? No, that’s stupid! … who’d even kidnap you and shower you with all this luxury? You could rule out kidnapping, right?
No, it’s better to keep your guard up, so until you make sure you're safe and whoever house this is is not a serial killer — you’d refer to them as your kidnapper, even if they dressed you head to toe in Prada. Yes, you checked the tag and you were wearing Prada to sleep… crazy.
Surveying the other side of the ginormous room. The wall was decorated with racing helmets and priceless racing memorabilia. Some old and most of them new— and the collection went from floor to ceiling. Your eyes shone in amazement as you realized that the majority of the helmets belonged to Ferrari.
Wow, whoever this belongs to is obsessed. You were a fan yourself, the helmets belonged to your favorite driver after all. But wow your kidnapper’s support is something else, the collection was just that extensive.
Damn. Well if you were honest if you had money, you’d be doing the same. You’d tour around the world and follow every race in every country on the schedule. Oh, how money works… and you’re getting distracted! You should be fearing for your life here but no, you daydream about attending races! Girl get your head straight.
You tried to remember the events that happened last night. Ok. It was an uneventful Thursday and you just got out from a shitty late-night lecture. Your professor was in a sour mood and he made it his job to make your lives a living hell. He held a pop quiz for the 3rd time in a row, you’re not worried … you studied for it because you knew he’d have another quiz. What’s even the point of calling it a POP quiz
Feeling entirely drained out of your life, you went to grab a snack from the McDonald’s near your campus. Fries and a Mcflurry was what you needed for a pick me up but just your luck, the machine was broken again and the fries were soggy and it’s as salty as the Red Sea.
With disappointment after disappointment, you begrudgingly dragged your feet back to your dorm room. And because things could get even messier, your keys kept falling to the floor as you tried to slot it in the keyhole— and you’re embarrassed to admit it but on your 5th time of trying, you finally entered your room.
With what’s left of your will, you gathered yourself and pushed on. You were a big girl in your last semester of Uni and a few more weeks will be your finals then it's graduation! Then it's sleeping in, watching F1 races, stalking the drivers through social media and daydreaming about waltzing into the paddock and somehow catching a driver's attention… yeah you are delusional, you admit it. Nevertheless! in a few weeks you will be a free woman.
But of course, before that, you need to do some studying and a lot of it. Your course in mechanical engineering was demanding to say the least. Truth be told you just wanted to drop out rather than die trying to understand differential equations for your AP calculus class. But to reach your dream and be employed by one of the teams in Formula 1– you knew you needed to be one of the best and you needed a degree for it.
And so even after a can of diet Red Bull in your system, while trying so hard to focus and not fall asleep. Your head slumped down on your notes… with the position you were in was asking for a stiff neck. With the thought of “Screw studying! I just want to be a wag or something” you snoozed off.
That was the last thing you remember and the next thing you knew you’re awake in an unknown bed, in an unknown location that looked like a Ferrari museum in the best way possible.
Noise from outside the room suddenly caught your ear. You pushed yourself off the thousand-dollar bed tossed the silk sheets aside, dashed your way to the door and listened to the other side. While you press your ear to the door you could hear footsteps and a jiggling sound approaching the room, drawing nearer by the second.
In your panic, you pushed yourself away from the door to grab something, anything, for self-defense. Not thinking of the fact that you should’ve locked the door first.
Realization fell on you as your eyes saw the door open. You readied your weapon and raised it above your head — then you locked eyes with the most beautiful set of green eyes.
Your arms froze above your head, as your eyes widened and your jaw fell at the realization of who the person was. It’s Charles freaking Leclerc.
“Y/N?? What are you doing? why are you holding my Monza trophy?” He said with a confused look plastered all over his place as he started to go near you.
It’s Charles Leclerc! How the hell are you in his house?!
“Y/N? Are you ok?” He asked once more, knowing the trophy was in his possession and he placed it back from where you found it.
“ Is everything alright?” Charles was now in front of you again yet you remain unresponsive. His green eyes now held concern, as he lifted his hand to cradle your jaw.
“Mon Bebe, you’re making me worry” Charles uttered now both his hands on your face as his thumb moved to soothe you.
WHAT THE HELL IS HAPPENING? Did He just call you with a pet name??
You tried to move your mouth, but nothing came out but jumbled words. You could only look up at Charles with unspoken words.
Unspoken words such as “What the fuck is happening here? Because I’m so confused!”
“ Hey, hey. Do you want some water?” He asked as he tried to let go, but you clutched his forearm before he walked farther.
You swallowed back the block in your throat and coughed out “Wait”
“I- uh. Where the hell am I? How did I get here, and what the fuck is happening here?” You blurted out all at once.
Charle’s beautiful face scrunched with confusion then it suddenly turned into him laughing.
“Oh, Mi Amore! You know how to start the day huh? Now, come we need to be early to the motorhome today!” He continued to chuckle as he suddenly kissed you on the cheek, ignoring your questions.
“ Glad that I’m amusing to you. Charles what the fuck?? how am I here and how the hell do you even know me??” You exclaimed, not knowing what to feel or even think.
“Uh… you’re here because you slept over and I know you because you’re my girlfriend?”
“WHAT?? GIRLFRIEND” You shrieked with disbelief at his joke
“Ok, I’ll play this game with you. Yes, Y/N L/N you have been my girlfriend for 4 years now. We met during Spa when you were interning as an engineer for Ferrari “ Charles smirked thinking that you were acting— not that you were spiraling from everything.
“I’m your what?? 4 years?? What happened to Alex??” You chided in, earning an eye roll from your “boyfriend” from Ferrari
“Very Funny, Mon Bebe. Who’s Alex?” Charles asked with an eyebrow raised. Now it was your turn to roll your eyes.
“Alexandra Saint Mleux? Your girlfriend! Y’know the one after Charlotte?” You tried to explain to the Monegasque in front of you as if it wasn’t his own life
“Ok~ I don’t know any Alexandra and why are you bringing up my past relationship? Are perhaps jealous, hmm?”
“Huh?? Come on you know Alex! Your girlfriend after Charlotte … the one you dated after only 3 months of breaking up with Charlotte”
“Now you’re just being crazy, Mi amore! You’re the only girl I’ve dated after Charlotte. And it wasn’t 3 months Amore, remember you made me wait for a year before saying yes to a date?” Charles was now using his hands to prove his point across. How Italian of him— well he is in Ferrari after all.
This was a dream… yeah definitely a dream! That’s the only explanation. Yup!
“You need to move your cute butt or we will be late! You wouldn’t want Horner up your ass for being late, you’re already dating the enemy. “ Charles pushed you towards the bathroom door.
“I work at RedBull??” You gasped with surprise
“Don’t act coy with me, you traitor. Now get ready!” Charles fully pushed you inside the massive bathroom and closed the door behind him.
You gaze at yourself in the mirror… Holy freaking hell. You were in Alexandra Saint Mleux’s Body! Just what the hell is going on?!
~~~
a/n : I’ve been obsessing over some chinese novels about transmigration and I thought what the hell I’ll make one about F1! Lmao this is my own version/twist on the genre so don’t come for me if i’m wrong. Oh! if this is your first time hearing about this sort of genre …. i suggest you read some from wattpad, i recommend “ Pick the Second Male Lead” by Harui30.
Maintaglist : @myescapefromthislife @peterholland04 @charlottef1 @fangirl125reader @mel164 @gnarlycore @chloelovesln4 @vickykazuya @merchelsea @ln4author @qzmef @nxk1309 @styl1shl1v @lottalove4evelyn @gr3yhues : open for request!
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cosmerelists · 2 days ago
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Should You Invite These Cosmere Characters to Boardgame Night?
As requested by anon. :)
I've done two boardgame-related posts before this (I love boardgames): Favorite Boardgames of Each Knights Radiant Order and Should You Invite the Shards to Boardgame Knight?
In this list, allow me to provide some advice about whether or not you should invite these Cosmere characters to your next boardgame night!
1. Adolin: Yes
Adolin is a delight at every social gathering. He brings wine that somebody at the store told him was good. He has fun with every game whether he wins or loses. By the end of the night, he is somehow the best friend of each individual guest.
2. Shallan: Yes
Is she cheating? Maybe. But she makes a lot of puns and you know that if she tries to cheat TOO much, Radiant will stop her.
3. Kaladin: No
He wins everything. It's annoying. He joined Settlers of Katan twenty minutes late and STILL won. How does he do it???
4. Kelsier: Yes
At first you were admittedly intimidated, as Kelsier kept smiling to himself and saying things like "Just wait until I reveal my Master Plan!" But actually, he kinda loses games...a lot. Keeps smiling, though, so you assume he's having a good time! What a good sport!
5. Vin: Only if you like losing
Like Kaladin, Vin wins all. the. time. But unlike Kaladin, she doesn't come late & then win in a blaze of sudden glory, no. She simply...destroys you. Continuously and brutally for the entire night.
6. Harmony: No
No offense to Harmony, who's a good dude 'n' all, but man, he takes FOREVER to make his next move. It's like--we're playing Sorry. You either move forward 10 or back 1. It's just two choices! How is he thinking for like 10 billion years??
7. Lopen: Maybe
Lopen likes to play around and tease people. He MAY mock you a little too much when your attempt to "Draw 2" him backfires and you find yourself drawing 8 cards in Uno... but other than that, he's a good time.
8. Blushweaver: Maybe
You didn't realize checkers even COULD be played as "Strip Checkers."
9. Tien: Yes
Tien is mostly concerned with making sure that everyone else is having a good time. Even after he gets killed during a round of "Werewolves," he continues to grin and encourage the rest of you to have a good time. W-Wait, why do you suddenly feel like crying?
10. Skar: Yes
Like Tien, Skar also seems chiefly concerned with making sure everyone else has a good time. Bonus: he's GREAT at explaining the rules!
11. Lightsong: Depends on how competitive you are
Ask yourself this: if there's a guy there who wins every game despite clearly and loudly not understanding the rules, would that be fun? If yes, then go for it. If no, then don't invite Lightsong--he doesn't understand how to play Hearts and he doesn't care to, yet he has shot the moon TWICE.
12. Nale: No
No one likes a rules lawyer.
13. Shai: Yes
Shai knows all of these obscure, complicated games that actually turn out to be really fun!
14. Hoid: No
Hoid knows all of these obscure, complicated games and while he does explain the rules, you can't shake the feeling that he's actually playing by an entirely different set of rules that he's not being totally honest about...
15. Elend: Yes
Elend was born to participate in board game nights weekly.
16. Telsin: No
She cheats 100% of the time. You didn't even know it was POSSIBLE to cheat in Connect 4, but she somehow found a way...
17. Raboniel: Well...
Raboniel is ENORMOUSLY competitive and cares very deeply about winning...but she also respects the game. She is surprisingly gracious about losing despite her eyes blazing with the heat of ten million suns as she slapped down that 7-letter word in Scrabble. Yet when you responded with your own, better 7-letter word, clinching the victory, you could tell that she respected you for it.
...But on the other hand, you've been clammy with fear sweats for 45 minutes now.
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jaydude1992 · 1 day ago
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"If your thoughts looking at a nine year old kid who has done NOTHING Dark Side yet and go "Yup. He's a monster because he didn't forget his mom on command...""
I personally wouldn't say they went that far; I see it more as the Jedi fearing that Anakin had been raised outside of the Order for too long to be able to learn how to love others without the destructive possessiveness that ultimately led to him becoming Darth Vader. Admittedly, that's not much better if you take it to indicate a narrative that only magical monks can teach kids to love in the "right" way, but I feel that's way more a fault of Lucas than the Jedi.
"Oh, they can wear costumes and go on theme park adventures to "experience and keep" their native culture so long as they come back home to Coruscant and get on with the business of killing Sith and propping up the Republic ruling class."
Again, Jedi are free to quit the Order if they like, Phantom Menace is largely about two Jedi helping to save an innocent planet's population from a corrupt member of the Republic ruling class, and the Prequel films are not a complete picture of the Jedi Order and how it operates.
If you want to see the Jedi aiding everyday folk, maybe check out Light of the Jedi.
"However, sending a heavily armed sorcerer with full government backing to bang on the door of some otherwise perfectly loving family who didn't plan to give up their child to this agent, never to see or hear from them again...Technically, "no" is a valid answer - the reality is that he has the laser sword, mind altering sorcery, and government backing. You're gonna do as he says and tell yourself it's an honor so you can sleep at night."
I've probably said something to this effect before, but if we're going solely by Lucas canon, your argument here seems based on the assumption that A) Anakin was forbidden from ever contacting Shmi again, and B) the Jedi WILL abuse/take advantage of the power advantage they have over such families. My problem there is that that assumption isn't exactly supported by Lucas/the narrative of the Prequel films.
MAYBE Lucas could've done a better job at conveying his intended narrative in his work. But at the end of the day, you're still filling in the blanks with nothing but your own opinions, which aren't necessarily going to turn out to be true.
I should probably also point out that the "mind altering sorcery" you speak of is stated in Attack of the Clones to not work on the strong-minded. I like to think that by that definition, it wouldn't work on a parent who wanted to raise their child themselves rather than hand them over to the Jedi. Especially if you believe - like I do - that the Jedi would never forcibly separate a child from parents unwilling to give them up.
OK, I may have said this before, but I’m going to reiterate this point. Attachments aren’t what people seem to think they are.
Let me explain. In Star Wars, when the Jedi referred to attachment, they are referring to what Buddhism would refer to as in a literal translation an obsession. Attachments is the most closest western equivalent to the direct translation. And these attachments are basically the cause of suffering. Why? Because they prevent you from spiritual enlightenment. These aren’t things like family and friends. These are unhealthy obsessions that crippled you and make you unable to progress spiritually.
And the other inspiration for the Jedi Christianity has a similar explanation, although with a different theological implication, but the general principle is the same. In Christianity there is the idea that this world is transient. It’s not permanent nor are Christians supposed to get attached to it. The idea is is that they live in this world, but they are not of this world. That is not to say you can’t enjoy the things of this world like going out to the movies or having a good meal or spending time with friends and family. But it’s being aware that at any time it can go away. Either through misfortune, such as poverty or even death. Clinging onto the attachment of this world leads to spiritual ruin because you cease to focus on the supernatural such their relationship with God and how it affects their relationships with others and focusing on the superficial and harmful things. Again, it’s similar to Buddhism, but their solution is slightly different than Buddhism.
And that’s where Jedi get the principle of non-attachment. From the Buddhist idea of unhealthy obsessions lead to not spiritual enlightenment. And the Christian sense of focusing on the material world interferes with the relationship with the Creator. That’s why I don’t get why certain people seem to think that “attachments are good.” They’re basically saying, unnatural obsessions that lead you away from spiritual enlightenment, or a relationship with the creator of the universe, and the terms of the Jedi is somehow good. It’s not see Anakin Skywalker for how well that works out.
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wittyworm · 1 year ago
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taino teachings are realigning my entire mindset. everything is. making more and more sense the more i read. Yoka hu (the father) and Ata Bey ( the mother) are both inside me . spiritually and physically. i have always said, for many years that i did not understand the concept of gender how this society is teaching it, because i am both my father and mother in body and spirit, but also wholly myself, and i need to respect myself, and how i've been feeling for so so long. it's all making so much sense.
#there are many beautiful things that come from the origins of the abrahamic religions but they are not part of me or for me to follow or be#forced to follow#fear is not how you should rule yourself or others#everyone should look into how their ancestors lived and truly truly consider their teachings and incorporate them into your lives#you might find yourself healing in ways you never even thought you needed#i am not religious#but i believe in the spirits that guided my ancestors to guide me#and for my ancestors to guide me#i need to look into the teachings of my african ancestors and incorporate both into me#to learn and to grow and to teach and to pass on#ohhhh i have so much to learn and so much more life to live#thank you ancestors#and fuck you to the ancestors that failed this mission. at least the lesson ive learned from you is to never be like you#i met an amazing Thai woman the other day and had a long conversation with her about life and business and things#and it was because#i saw a doll in front of her food truck and it drew me in#she said it was gifted to her by a vendor#because she went up and was like oh! that doll is from my culture!#i showed her the dolls i had just bought that day! they were two little black children dressed up like cute clowns they are my favorite😭💚#and she asked what i was. i told her i was Black Boricua and White and she was like oh wow you are truly of the Americas#or truly american#and i was like i guess so huh but i suppose we all are since this is where we have been made to live#huge advocate for bringing back culture shock and making people respect the culture of THIS land while also maintaining#a healthy relationship with their own#the the only way we can move forward and thrive like a true melting pot that will become something new and beautiful
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bacchuschucklefuck · 6 months ago
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Can you expand on what you mean by Baron being "too cool" to really fit a horror monster? It's a very interesting concept and I'd love to hear your thoughts. Is it that they're too active/involved/tangible and it detracts from their scariness?
I feel like I should preface this with a wall of disclaimers lmao 1/I am a hardcore, down-to-the-marrow, avid, deeply sincere horror enthusiast, esp. horror creatures. this usually means my mileage is vastly different from the average populace's, and my scaredy bone has been disintegrated by longterm exposure. most things in a piece of horror media won't scare me! so I practically never use that on its own as the scale to talk abt horror experiences, but when something does scare me it's always a special occasion to be treasured. 2/canon d20 is never really meant to be horror horror, and for good reasons: it doesn't fit the company's output, it takes a kind of carelessness in production estimation that is always a huge risk, it's often vulnerable in a way that kinda goes against how TTRPGs usually facilitates vulnerability, and for most people it's just! stressful! d20, even with the "horror-themed" seasons, generally just plays with horror tropes and stays focused in its goal of being a comedy improv tabletop theater show. 3/fantasy high's chosen system is DnD, which as I've mentioned before is before all a combat-based game system, which means the magic circle of play is drawn based on stats that facilitate and prioritize combat. want or not this affects every interaction you have in the game, and given fantasy high's concept from the ground up (everyone's going to school of DnD stuff to get better at DnD) it's doubly relevant. 4/This Is Fine I have no quarrel with this. my meters are internal, I do not ask this show to be anything it doesn't advertise itself to be, and what it is is fucking great! I like it! when I expand on this ask's question it will be like a physicist going insane in a lab. that's the mindset we're going in with.
disclaimers done. my stance on horror as a genre is that it's a utility genre rather than a content genre or a demographic genre; it is the discard of narratives. it's the trash pile. horror, above being scary, is about being ugly and messy, it's the cracks on the ground any story inevitably steps over to stay a genre that isn't horror. the genre's been around long enough to develop a codex and a general language that medias and makers and enthusiasts of the genre can use to talk about and build onto, but if you go into individual pieces there's really no unifying Horror Story. one person's beautiful life can be another's horror story, it's just how it is.
this makes The Monster a deeply intriguing piece of the genre. thing is a monster is in a decent percentage of any story - it's just when the antagonist force steps into something past a certain line traced out in the story's world. monstrousness is in pretty much every western fantasy story, it's in any story with a hero and something to vanquish or win; more than anything it's a proxy of that thing up there. the line in a narrative's world. the monster is the guard of the unknown lands, where heroic, civilized people don't tread.
what does this mean in the context of horror? the genre is about that perceived lawlessness, that "unknown land" so to say. we're in the monster's home. that's the literary context that we often walk into a horror piece with; the monster knows more than you about where you are. it may not understand you, but it holds more information than you, and with that it moves swifter than you, has more covered than you, and is more assured in its existence in this context than you. it's a struggle to catch up to it, it's nigh impossible to get one over it, and you're never sure it'll 100% work, because you just don't have the information necessary to.
with that framing you can kinda see where I'm coming from here: horror's often about the breaking of rules. I always think a monster's most effective when it breaks well-established rules of both existence and visual storytelling. think Possum (2018) or Undertale's Omega Flowey or the Xenomorph Queen - unique change in medium, unique change in graphic, unique change in design language, etc. in that sense I actually really like how canon baron plays out: they don't really function like anything else in the fantasy high universe, the bad kids have not managed to kill them when they've felled literal gods, their domain in fhjy literally introduces new mechanics to encompass their existence! from an experience design standpoint they slap mad shit. BUT! I can't help finding their character, like as a character riz (and the other bad kids, eventually) interact with, to be very... coherent? in design. this is kinda hard for me to articulate in words, it's more often a sense you get once you've looked at enough of these scrumptious fuckers, their general design and the way they show up is just kinda too clean, so to say. always kinda newly made? fresh unboxed. it, once again, makes sense for their lore - they are looking for more about themself from riz - and their function - they're an antagonist in a game experience, they're meant to be interacted with in a way that produces results and meshes with the existing magic circle - but that shininess takes away from the implied history they should have dominion over and the person they're haunting doesn't.
from another angle there is kinda something there about how put-together canon baron is as a concept; the domain they call home is riz's deep-seeded fears, extremely vulnerable things he's drawn borders around to quarantine and refused to walk into. things that from his perspective would irreversibly shatter certain pleasant fictions his world is built on top of. canon baron, While Extremely Cool, I feel is kinda too neat to connect with and signify the apocalyticized mess that'd result from this paradigm shift. the part where they're in riz's briefcase and looking through every mirror is Very Cool And Fucked Up! but ultimately the show draws a line around them as well, by making game-physical, tangible spaces they're in (the mirrors and the haunted mordred manor) and put riz and the bad kids there only when they need to confront stuff. riz is meaningfully narratively away from baron's unknown land for most of fantasy high.
with that and all of my disclaimers in mind my conclusion here is if canon baron wants to be a Horror Monster they'd have to cross way more lines. be a Lot more invasive. hence (holds up my class swap baron like a long cat)
#ask#not art#tldr a lot of fantasy high's and d20's nature plays against having a Horror horror piece in it. there's no space for emptiness or dread#that's one of the most attractive things to me about horror. the monster signifying a new world you don't understand#you see something on the deserted streets and you realize: oh. the world doesn't work how I've been thinking it does#if u've noticed how much this has in common with queer experiences haha. yeag#man. actually I should also put the I Am Not White disclaimer in there too lmao a lot of the notion of The Monstrous is! traditionally#about maintaining and upkeeping a ''social order'' (read: the powers that be)#and a Lot of Wilderness Fiction is deeply and maliciously colonialist#so when I say ''the unknown land'' and ''the monster'' I am pretty much speaking From one of those unknown lands#and from the position of one of those monsters#the fear of the monstrous is so very often the fear of being consumed by - or becoming - the monstrous yourself#and well. when you're already there in the eye of the zeitgeist. You Can Do What You Want Forever#all that to say it Is important to me that baron is made of riz's lies. even more so in this funny class swap thing I make for fun#like as a horror protag he makes me insane. he loves lines! he loves lines he drew himself. he replicates these borders in himself#that mirror the world he lives in that's so hostile to him. that kid Loves rules. he bows to even the ones that hurt him#like. u get where I'm getting to right I did make a whole comic kinda near this subject he's Already The Other#baron is a monster's monster. baron is a mirror image. GODs I cant help but wish they were messier#it's kinda why I make class swap baron to be like. an ever nearing realization. like I warble abt all this but I genuinely do also find#canon baron to be just as visually coherent and thematically perfect as riz if not more. it's hard to beat how cool the mirror stuff is#it's hard to beat that doll face in iconic visuals! I have to strike according to my strength rather than trying to beat canon#so instead of reflection it's captured moments. instead of a blank face it's the lack of one. mmm. maybe I'm just kinda breaking things#for fun also but that's My prerogative in my house awooga <3#well. thats kinda my thoughts on the general subject. thank u for listening. I will bake something soon dyou want some
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yanderenightmare · 7 months ago
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TW: noncon, yandere, omegaverse, subjugation, some type of sexism, angsty, also a little fluffy?
fem reader
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Discussions about superiority and inferiority between Alphas, Betas, and Omegas have become more popular lately. It’s always been many people’s opinion that the weak should cater to those stronger than them—but a debate with that as its topic is unsavory. Unfortunately, they’ve found new ways to phrase it. 
A resonating “Unmated Omegas are a danger to themselves!” garners much more sympathy…
And with the rise of people talking about it in the media, it was only natural to move the conversation into school as well.
You keep your head bowed in class as the chill runs down your spine. You feel the glare of thirty fellow students—the points of their teeth, too, and how they snicker under their breath. It’s always been rather scary being an omega, but you can’t say you’ve ever felt quite so alone.  
The teacher’s an alpha, so why should he care how what he says impacts you? He’s preaching to the choir, and you’ve never had the right to sing. The three other Omegas in your class have all chosen to stay home. They probably have the right idea—wait it out until it all blows over.
But you don’t know when that might be… You don’t know if that will be.
Society is on the precipice of critical change—new politics, new laws, new systems, new rights that separate you from them. You wallow in fear of the outcome, lying awake at night and scrolling through the news under the safety of your duvet. The statements seem endless. You wonder, why are all politicians Alphas?
You don’t want any of the things they’re suggesting—mating homes to help you find the perfect Alpha to bond with, systematic pairings done from birth, auctions. Is no one going to suggest they put shock collars on all Alphas and Betas to keep them in check? They’re the ones who need to—
“Your scent is distracting the whole class—don’t you feel ashamed?” 
It’s too easy for him to have you bent over the desk, your wrist on your back in his big fist as he wraps his tie around them. He and his goons stand around, all smiles—watching—enjoying it. It’s as if they’ve planned the whole thing, the way two of them peel away from the crowd to grab each their pick of your feet. Parting them, they use your own shoelaces to tie them to the desk legs.
The ringleader laughs. There’s an awful smell coming off him in waves—it makes you quiver. He flips your skirt up and whistles at the sight, showing everyone your ass and cotton undies. The bulge he presses against you is enough to make your tears spill despite how hard you’d fought to keep them at bay, knowing it only arouses them further.
“Aww, don’t cry, little bitch. You should be happy,” he coos, leaning over your trapped form to whisper right at your ear. “Don’t you know? You’ll never feel happier than you will bouncing on my big Alpha dick. It’s all your little Omega cunt dreams about, isn’t it?” He snickers, fiddling with his belt buckle—you flinch at every sharp clink as he jostles the metal. “Well, salvation is here—���
“Keep it to yourself.” Another voice breaks through the sounds of hollers and cheers.
Your eyes open to see him. You despise how your heart jumps in relief.
“Oi, you—” the guy at your back challenges, stepping away from you and toward the interruption.
“Yeah, me,” he states blankly, jaded. He eyes the rest of the guys with disinterest—five betas, zero threat—before telling them, “All of you. Scram.”
They all take a step to walk out as if his voice alone had compelled them, but then the previous guy interjects, making them stop in their tracks again. “Tch—you know what they’re saying. All unmated Omegas are free game, and I won this one. So back off.”
It was like watching a match of tug-of-war.
“Heh,” the intruder laughs. “That rule only counts for Alphas.”
You spot your aggressor's fists curl—there’s a growl rumbling in the back of his throat. “I am an Alpha, asshole.”
“Really?” he feigns, sizing him up with a cocky tilt of his head. “Couldn’t tell.” He doesn’t seem fazed in light of the aggression—actually, it seems to amuse him if anything. “To me, you smell no different from all these other Beta losers.” 
He takes a casual step forward, hands in his pockets and a smile on his face—baring canines with grace.
“But if you wanna prove it, I’m ready when you are.”
It’s quiet after the declaration. The betas are unsure who’s side to pick, none of them eager to get caught in the middle. It becomes a competition purely between the two Alphas.
Without backup, your aggressor backs down and leaves.
“Thought so,” your savior jeers, showing the crowd out, closing and locking the door behind them.
It’s quiet after they’ve left.
You hide your face. Listening to his footsteps approach—he sighs when taking the place of the former guy. He doesn’t touch you, though.
“Y’know…” he starts. “That guy might be trash, but he isn’t wrong…” He picks up your skirt and drapes it back in place. “None of this would ever happen if you weren’t unmated.”
You speak through grit teeth. “Untie me.”
He chuckles familiarly at that, clicking his tongue at you. “What? Aren’t you gonna say please?” But he does what you say anyway. Squatting down, he starts with your ankles.
The scent of your fear still lingers in the air despite your tough act. You’ve always been so steadfast, ever since you were kids, even when it does you no good. He frees your feet—one, then the other, slowly—he even reties your laces into pretty bows before he’s done. 
He remembers it being so obvious. The sun rose in the morning and the moon at night, and you were supposed to be an Alpha while he a Beta at best. You promised you’d be by his side to keep him safe forever, and he wanted nothing more.
But then puberty hit, and nothing was as you’d imagined.
He stands and unknots the tie keeping your wrists restrained.
You immediately push him off—already storming away.
“Do I get no thank you, no nothing? Always so stubborn—” He grabs your arm.
You spin around, an unnatural snarl on your face. “Let go!”
You’d have been a terrifying Alpha. But as fate has it, you’re not. And you shouldn’t act like it. It only lands you in trouble.
But he doesn’t say that. 
“You been watchin’ the news?” he says instead, ignoring your cry and keeping a firm grip on your arm. “Seems like auctions are winning the voters. You know what that means?”
He feels you flinch, followed by a quiver. He can tell. No matter how good you are at hiding it. He can see—the way you’re fraying at the edges, barely holding it together. Always acting so strong. He can’t tell whether you enjoy torturing yourself or if you’re just that good at convincing yourself you’re fine.
“Pretty soon, new authorities are gonna come storming in here, roundin’ up every sorry unmated Omega they find, and put ‘em all on a farm where pompous Alphas can have their pick of the litter.”
He can never tell what you’re thinking, but he knows he doesn’t need to tell you any of this. You’re not stupid, you never have been. He knows you already know. But…
“You should decide now while it’s still your choice.” 
You must be terrified. He understands. But truly… it’s obvious what you have to do, isn’t it?
“It’s not like you have many options.”
It’s obvious. It always has been.
You don’t meet his eyes. You haven’t for a long while. Actually, you haven't since both of you got your test results. He understands this wasn’t what you had in mind, but you can’t afford to mope about it forever—
“How am I supposed to choose any Alpha when you’re all such assholes…”
Your mutter stunts him. It wasn’t what he expected. Or, the words were more or less exactly something he’d expect from you, but that voice—quiet and soft, dangling on the brink of sweet. If you’d said anything else, he’d have taken it as a confession.
“Can't argue with that,” he ends up chuckling again.
You hate how easy this is for him. He would cry at every turn when you were kids. It’s unfair. 
“But you can’t keep doing this, either,” he states. His voice is soft, paired with that ugly authority they all have when talking to you—talking down to you. “Just look where it gets you—scared and exhausted because of it. At least have the brains to stay home.” He says it as if it’s a joke, but you both know it isn’t. His chuckles are light—far from fullhearted.
He bends down, trying to find your eyes. He still holds onto your arm, knowing you’d sooner stomp away than listen to him. His other hand brushes your cheek gently, tucking your hair behind your ear.
“You hear the call from the rafters—it’s not about what you want anymore. It’s about what you need.”
That’s what they say, isn’t it? What you need. You want to slap him. Scratch him with claws, bite his throat out—make him choke on his own words. Need? What you need is for them all to fuck off.
You mean to say it with the same sentiment, but something hard and rough in your throat makes all your words come out wobbly. “Mate an Alpha to stay safe from other Alphas. What a joke.”
You bow your head further. The tears return. They burn as they trail down the sore streaks from before.
He’s never seen you like this. He won’t lie, it makes his pants tight—feeling the urge to suck your cheeks, hold you close and comfort you. But knowing you right, you’d probably never let him. Your face would probably scrunch up in disgust, punch his gut, knee his groin, then turn on your heel and leave him on the floor wheezing.
You really would have made the most terrifying Alpha. 
“The world isn’t fair,” he agrees. “But you get nowhere cryin’ about it—do it my way, and you’ll never—”
“Have any freedom,” you cut him off with a sniffle. 
It’s about the most adorable thing he’s seen in his life.
He gets why you don’t like Alphas—they’re all gross. He makes himself sick sometimes. He can’t believe he’s getting off on watching you have a mental breakdown. There’s something seriously wrong with his side of the species. His throat’s tight, mouth watery with the urge to reap your vulnerability. 
Suppressing it only makes his inner beast furious. Some of that aggression comes out in his next words.
“I’m sorry, but the world doesn’t give a shit about your freedom.” 
The grip around your arm tightens, and you look up in shock—watching his narrowed eyes through your watery ones. 
“What you need is safety—now more than ever. Or do you like being preyed on by every Alpha around the corner?” 
Your bottom lip trembles at the reality of it—a little while ago, you were almost— 
“One of these days, I'm not gonna be here in time, and you’ll be a slave to some fucking—” 
He huffs and hangs his head. His hand loosens up—it trembles where he holds you in place.
“In all honesty, I think I’m more scared than you,” he whispers under his breath. “I think I might kill—”
He stops himself again. You don’t know if it’s in an effort not to frighten you or himself.
“Speak about needs…” he begins anew, now softer. “I need to know you’re safe. I need to—” He looks up. His eyes are back to being round. “I need you more than you need me, probably.”
There’s a desperation on his face. It almost looks like he’s on the verge of tears himself.
“So… please?” he begs. “Will you keep me safe like you promised and stay by my side?”
Your tears dry and prickle. Looking into his eyes now, you see the same boy you knew back in your childhood—that one who’d chase you all over even when you’d call him a sniveling crybaby. You realize, Alpha or not, he hadn’t changed all that much at all. 
“It’s not like you need my permission,” you end up saying.
You’ve always been so hard-headed. He has to smile. “No, but I want it.”
You nibble your lip. You can’t believe you’re at the mercy of this big dumb hunk of… you don’t have the words to describe him. He wasn’t exactly a crybaby anymore. 
“Okay. You win.” 
His eyes widen as you bear your neck with a stretch. Head high and shoulders slack. 
You swallow thickly. “Get it over with.”
He shudders at the sight. He didn’t know what he’d been expecting, but now it almost seemed too soon. 
“We should be supervised by a professional—you know how wrong things can go—”
“Hurry up before I change my mind.” Your eyes remain shut, and your lips pursed.
His tongue grows thick in his mouth at your bark. A sudden stroke of performance anxiety makes his palms sweaty, hands heavy and shaking. But then the sight of your soft neck has his mood shift, becoming drowsy.
He has no control over the growl that begins rumbling from his gut.
But he doesn’t apologize for it either.
He bends forward—breaths on your chest before he licks your throat. You can’t help but whimper at the warmth. He watches you through hooded eyes—your usually angry face is now all cute, riddled with anxiety you try hiding paired with the grim anticipation of pain.
“Shh,” he soothes, kissing the spot softly. He sways you against him, then lifts you up on the desk for you to sit. Grazing your neck with teeth when feeling your hands tangle two fistfuls of his shirt. He expects you to push him away, but you don’t—you tug him closer instead as if silently telling him to hurry up.
But he doesn’t want to rush, doesn’t want to lose himself—that’s how accidents happen. So he sticks to sucking gently, only tiny nibbles that leave your skin hot and lightly bruised in their wake.
You give a moan once he finds the spot, and he growls in restraint upon the pretty sound—feeling you relax despite being threatened with his teeth right at your artery. He almost humps your leg in return, feeling the boil of blood pump him hot and heavy in his pants—breaths turning equally hot and heavy, each one laced with rust.
Drool coated your neck in a cool sheen, soothing the marks made beneath it, while his lips and fangs aroused pleasure in the spot that now ached for the sting of his bite.
“Please,” slipped from your mouth while tugging him closer. 
His eyes, completely drunk on the pretty prayer, had only a slim rim of color left surrounding the hungering bottomless pits, blown full and black with opium.
No one could come and take you away from him now. Not with his print so pretty on your neck. You were his—just as you were always supposed to be.
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♡ BNHA – Deku, Kirishima, Natsuo, Amajiki, Mirio ♡ JJK – Yuji, Yuuta ♡ HQ – Kuro, Miya twins ♡ DS – Tanjiro, Zenitsu
♡ FEM x M INSERT masterlist ♡ GN x M INSERT masterlist
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sargeant-bxrnes · 2 months ago
Text
you’re how i pray.
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summary: reluctantly, you found yourself reaching out to the church for guidance, to better your “wrongs.” only to meet father charlie and realize there was a whole world of sins you’ve yet to indulge in. [REQUESTED.]
pairings: charlie mayhew x fem!reader
warnings: conversations about religion and moral, blasphemy (?), charlie is a manipulative freak!. SMUT: this is DIRTYYYY, fingering (fem), oral (fem), unprotected sex, manhandling, dirty talk.
WC: 3.6K (sorry, i got into it)
my masterlist!                     requests are OPEN!
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Your steps echoed against the cold stone floors of the church. The towering figure of your aunt walked ahead, moving with self-righteous purpose. You rolled your eyes, biting the inside of your cheek to stifle the irritation that boiled beneath your skin.
Of course, therapy had been a good start. You had actually been making progress, learning to manage your anger, to quiet the voice inside you that urged you to rebel against every rule, every boundary. But your family… they believed therapy wasn’t enough. They had another solution.
Father Charlie. You had heard of him. A young priest, charismatic and well-liked by the community.
Your aunt wasted no time, walking straight up to the office where Father Charlie stood. His presence was larger than life, draped in his priestly robes, and yet his eyes—those piercing brown eyes—held a spark that didn’t quite match the image of a humble servant of God.
“Father Charlie, thank you for meeting with us,” your aunt began, already launching into a tirade about you. Words like rebellious, problematic, and sinful spilled out as though they had been rehearsed. You stood there, arms crossed, glaring at the rows of candles flickering on the altar.
Father Charlie nodded sympathetically but his gaze never left you. He didn’t interrupt your aunt’s sermon, though, and once the woman was satisfied that she had delivered enough holy condemnation, she patted you on the shoulder.
“Father Charlie will talk to you, sweetie. He’ll help you.”
With that, your aunt left, leaving behind a cloud of forced piety. The silence settled in as Father Charlie waited until the doors shut behind her.
“Guessing by your expression, I’m sure this wasn’t your first option, coming to me.” he said, his voice unexpectedly soft.
You shrugged, leaning back against one of the wooden furnitures of his office. “Yeah. My family has unfortunately convinced themselves that I’m a lost cause, and that only God can save me. Or so.”
Father Charlie smiled, and something about it made you feel more cautious than comforted. “Why do you think people see you that way?”
The question took you by surprise. Not the usual condescending lecture, not yet, anyway. “Because I don’t see the point in all these rules they’re obsessed with. I do whatever I want, and that annoys people. We’re born into this world, and instead of living the lives we want, we’re told what to do from the moment we can speak. Doesn’t that sound a little… cruel to you?”
“Rules are there to keep the community together. Without them, society would fall apart.”
You narrowed your eyes. “Maybe. But what’s the point if those rules only help some people? The rich keep getting richer, while the rest of us… we’re always at the bottom. And that’s okay as long as we obey, right?”
“So, you think life is about doing whatever you want? No restrictions at all?”
“Not exactly,” you said. “I just think people should be free to make their own choices. To live without constant guilt and fear hanging over them. This whole idea that we’re supposed to follow blindly or be damned… it doesn’t sit right with me.”
The priest studied you for a moment, and you could feel the intensity of his gaze. “Do you believe in God?”
Your lips pressed together in a thin line. “I don’t know. Maybe there’s something out there, something bigger than us. But the people in this community? The hypocrisy. The way they use their faith to control others. It’s toxic.”
Father Charlie nodded slowly. “You’re not the first to feel that way. But you’re not as alone as you think, either.”
“What do you mean?”
His smile was back, but this time, it held something else. Something darker. “Let’s just say… not everyone in this church follows the rules as strictly as you might think.”
A shiver crept down your spine, but you couldn’t tell if it was fear or something else. His words, his tone—they didn’t match the image of the holy man you had been expecting. You sat down on the couch, to keep some distance.
“Let’s talk more,” he said, his voice dropping an octave. “I’m curious about your thoughts on freedom. On life… on sin.”
Your pulse quickened as he took a seat next to you, far too close for comfort, but you didn’t move. There was something magnetic about him. Dangerous, but magnetic.
“You know,” Charlie began, his fingers lightly tracing the soft edge of the couch beneath both, “a lot of people in your position feel trapped by expectations. You said it yourself: you don’t like the way rules seem to be designed to keep some people down.”
You nodded slowly, unsure where this was leading, but already feeling a shift in the atmosphere.
He tilted his head, his gaze holding yours, and there was a glimmer of amusement—something almost wicked—in his eyes. “You’re not wrong to want freedom. To want more. But what you have to understand is that most people… they’re too afraid to admit it.”
“Too afraid?”
“Yes. They bury their desires under obedience, hoping it will make them feel whole. But deep down, they crave… more. They want to push against those boundaries.” He leaned in closer, his tone growing silkier. “Don’t you?”
“I don’t know,” you said, though you did know. It just didn’t feel safe to admit it—not to yourself, and definitely not to him. “I mean, I get frustrated, but… it’s not like I’m going to rebel against everything.”
“What if you did? What if, just for a moment, you allowed yourself to explore that side of you? The one that questions. The one that craves freedom… and maybe, other things?” Charlie’s eyes sparkled with something that felt far more dangerous than faith.
Other things. The way he said it, as if it were an invitation, hung heavily between both. You could feel the tension building, the heat.
“I think…” you started, your voice shaky, “I think people would lose their minds if I did something like that.”
His lips curled into a slow, knowing grin. “Maybe that’s exactly what they need.”
He let the words sink in before continuing, his voice dipping into something darker, more seductive. “You don’t need to live your life based on what others expect of you. There’s power in choosing for yourself.“
This conversation wasn’t going the way you’d imagined. You had expected judgment, correction—but instead, he was… encouraging you.
“What do you want?” he asked, his voice almost a whisper now.
You looked away, feeling a flush creep up your neck. “I don’t know.”
“You’re lying,” Charlie said softly, his voice dipping even lower. “I think you know exactly what you want. You just haven’t allowed yourself to feel it fully.”
Your heart pounded against your ribs, and you couldn’t ignore the way his words wrapped around you like a dark temptation. There was a part of you that did want something—something wild, something free, something dangerous. But this? Here? With him?
“It’s okay to admit it,” Charlie said, leaning closer, his lips dangerously close to your ear now. “Sometimes… surrendering to what you really desire is more powerful than fighting it.”
Your breath caught, and for a second, you leaned into him, drawn by the magnetism of his words. It was intoxicating—the way he seemed to know exactly what to say. But you pulled back, confusion warring with the strange attraction that was blooming inside you.
“You’re a priest,” you said, as though reminding him—and yourself—would somehow break the spell.
Charlie chuckled, the sound low and smooth. “I am. But that doesn’t mean I don’t understand temptation. Sin is… fascinating, isn’t it? Especially the kind that makes you question everything you thought you knew about yourself.”
There was something so wrong about this conversation, and yet, you couldn’t deny the pull. The way he was making you feel—seen, understood, even desired—was something you hadn’t expected to find in this place.
He held your gaze, his confidence palpable. “You crave connection. An escape from the chains of expectation. You want to live life on your terms, even if that means stepping outside the lines drawn by those who think they know better. I admire that.”
“You really don’t know what you’re getting into,” you said, trying to regain some control.
“Perhaps,” he said, the corner of his mouth quirking up in that infuriatingly charming way. “But what if I’m willing to take that risk? To explore those uncharted waters with you?”
“Is that what you do with all the girls who come in here, Father?” you shot back, trying to mask the way your pulse quickened at the thought.
“Most don’t provoke me the way you do,” he said, his voice low and velvety. “They’re afraid to stray too far from the righteous path. But you… you have a light about you that beckons me closer. It’s intoxicating.”
Your cheeks warmed under his intense scrutiny, but you quickly shook your head, refusing to be swayed. “You shouldn’t say things like that. You’re a priest.”
“Ah, but that’s the thing, isn’t it?” he replied smoothly, his gaze unflinching. “What does that really mean? I wear the collar, sure, but I’m also a man—one who understands the darker desires that lie beneath the surface. You’re drawn to them, aren’t you?”
“Maybe I’m just curious,” you replied, attempting to sound nonchalant.
“Curiosity is a dangerous game,” he said, his voice a seductive whisper. “Especially when it leads you to someone like me. You could explore all the answers to your questions, and perhaps even find the absolution you didn’t know you were seeking—if you dare to take that step.”
“And what’s the price for that?” you challenged, not ready to give in but undeniably intrigued.
“Just your trust,” he said, his gaze piercing through your defenses. “Let me guide you. Allow me to show you that the rules can bend, that the lines can blur. And in return, you’ll discover a side of yourself you never knew existed. It’s a fair exchange, don’t you think?”
“Maybe,” you finally replied, your voice barely above a whisper, “but I’m not so easily led.”
He leaned in closer, their faces mere inches apart. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
He ran his thumb delicately along your lower lip. “Lose yourself in me. Let me be your forbidden pleasure, your dark indulgence. Together, we can create a sin so divine, it will set your soul free.”
You feel his thumb diving inside your mouth. He pressed his thumb deeper, exploring the warm, wet cavern of your mouth as if mapping your innermost terrain.
“Mmmm, so eager to please," he purred, his other hand sliding down your side to grip your hip, holding you steady. "Your mouth was made for sin." With a subtle twist, he coaxed your tongue to swirl around the intrusion, a sinful game of give-and-take that left you breathless and wanting more. "Such a willing little temptress,"
And before you can process, he’s kissing you. And things gets heated, fast. It doesn’t seem to matter that you both were sitting on the couch from his office, inside the church. He claimed your mouth in a bruising kiss, his tongue plunging in to dance with yours in a primal, urgent rhythm. The scent of your arousal mingled with the musky undertones of his cologne, fogging the air with a heady, addictive haze. His hands roamed your body, possessive and demanding, as he pulled you closer, his own arousal throbbing against the confines of his trousers.
“So sweet," he growled against your lips, breaking the kiss only to nip and suck his way down your neck, leaving a trail of heated, open-mouthed kisses. "Such a delicious little sin."
His fingers deftly unfastened the buttons of your blouse, revealing the lacy bra beneath and the creamy swells of your breasts. You gasped, feeling his lips on your skin. Desperate and wanton, hungry.
He kissed and licked a path downward, pausing to toy with the lacy edge of your bra before tugging the delicate fabric aside with his teeth. His hot mouth closed over the swell of your breast, his tongue swirling to coax forth a responsive moan. His lips slid lower, fixating on your nipple. He suckled, the rhythmic pull of his lips and the scrape of his teeth sending jolts of pleasure-pain shooting through your sensitive flesh.
“Mmmm, you taste so divine," he purred, his free hand sliding up your thigh to brush against the damp fabric of your panties. "Every inch of you is made for sin."
You could foresee his intentions even before he started to move. His lips went lower down your chest, over your stomach, to the waistband of your skirt. With practiced ease, he slid his hands down your curves, peeling away the last of your garments with a hunger that bordered on reverence.
Your skirt and panties joined the discarded heap of your blouse and bra on the floor, leaving you bare and vulnerable beneath his intense scrutiny. His eyes raked over you, drinking in every inch of exposed flesh as if committing it to memory. The sight of you, spread out before him, was a feast for his sinful appetites.
“Exquisite," he breathed, his voice thick with desire. "You're a vision of decadence. I'm going to indulge in every moment of our encounter, savoring every morsel of pleasure you offer me."
With that, he sank to his knees before you, his fingers brushing against your inner thighs as he gazed up at you with a wicked promise in his eyes. He leaned in, his breath a hot whisper against your most intimate flesh.
And he went at it, eager to devour. He started off with a long, languid lick with the flat of his tongue, licking from the edge of your slit all the way to the clit. It was utterly sinful, erotic.
He lapped at you, his long, dexterous tongue swirling and delving with a sinful expertise that made you gasp and squirm. The flat of his tongue glided along your slit, gathering your sweet essence before he darted the tip to tease the sensitive bump of your clit. He licked and suckled, alternating between long, languid strokes and fast, frantic jabs of his tongue, each one designed to drive you a little crazier with need.
“You taste so good,," he purred, his words muffled against your pulsing flesh. "I could eat this sweet cunt all day and never tire of it."
Two fingers slipped inside you, stretching and filling you as his tongue continued its relentless assault. He pumped them in and out, matching the rhythm of his tongue's movements as he brought you closer to the edge. His fingers curled, seeking that special spot that would send you plummeting into ecstasy. With each pass, his touch grew firmer, more insistent, as if trying to coax the very essence of your being from your depths. His lips and tongue never ceased their worship of your clit, suckling and flicking against the throbbing nub in a maddening dance of pleasure and desperation.
He could feel you teetering on the brink, your sweet cum flooding his fingers as your hips bucked and writhed in mindless need. His tongue worked frantically against your clit, a dizzying whirl of licks and suckles that left you breathless and begging for more. One last, long lick, and you were sent hurtling over the edge, your orgasm ripping through like a thunderclap.
“Yes," he hummed, his voice a reverent whisper. "Let it happen. Let me feel you cum for me." And as the waves of your climax crashed over you, he remained, drinking in every last drop of your release like a man dying of thirst.
And you thought that would be it, but no. He rearranged you, laying you down as he stripped off his cassock in a hurried tug. The garment joined the pile of your clothes, and he wasted no time unfastening his belt and shucking off his trousers. His massive cock sprang free, the thick, pulsing length already flushed and throbbing with need.
He loomed over you, his thick, throbbing cock jutting out before him like a red-hot brand, burning with the need for release. With a knee, he pushed your legs apart, spreading you in blatant invitation, before positioning himself between your thighs. One hand tipped your chin up, forcing you to meet his burning gaze as he lined himself up with your most intimate entrance.
“Last chance to turn back," he growled, the tip of his cock notched against your aching flesh. "Once I sink into you, there's no going back. You'll be mine, body and soul." He paused, his expression almost wistful. "But I know you won't refuse me. You want this, as much as I do."
With that, he surged forward, burying himself in your warmth with a groan of pure, unadulterated pleasure.
He filled you slowly, deliberately, each inch a decadent slide into heaven as he stretched you impossibly wide around his girth. The sensation was overwhelming, the burn of his intrusion mixing with the sweet, tingling pleasure that only he could evoke. When he finally bottomed out, he paused, savoring the feeling of being completely sheathed within you. He was huge, and you could feel every throbbing inch of him as he pulsed and twitched inside you.
“So perfect," he breathed, his voice low and husky with satisfaction. He took a deep breath, his forehead coming to rest against yours as he fought to regain his composure. "You were made for me. Every curve, every hollow, every inch of your sweet cunt is tailor-made to take my cock."
He began to move, slow and deep at first, withdrawing until only the thick head remained before plunging back in, his strokes growing firmer, more insistent as he lost himself in the mindless pleasure of the joining. — He took you like a man possessed, his pace growing faster, more erratic as he chased his release. The couch creaked in protest beneath both, the sound mingling with the ragged breathing and the obscene squelch of his cock sliding in and out of your soaked pussy. Your back arched, pushing your pert breasts toward his devouring mouth as he feasted on one while still pounding into you. He growled against your skin, the vibrations adding another layer of sensation to the maelstrom of pleasure wracking your body.
Your eyes rolled back, feeling him pounding deep into your cunt as he suckled your tit. Wary, you used a hand to cover your mouth, trying to muffle the sound.
His mouth left your breast with a wet pop, and he sealed his lips over yours in a fierce, dominating kiss. His tongue invaded, claiming yours in a sensual dance that left both breathless. All the while, he continued his relentless pace, his cock pistoning in and out of you with brutal efficiency. He could feel your walls fluttering around him, your sweet cream coating his shaft as you teetered on the brink of another orgasm. With a groan, he broke the kiss, his eyes blazing with a primal intensity as he prepared to unleash his own release.
“Cum for me," he commanded, his voice a raw, desperate snarl. "Take my cock, just like that. Fuck- come for me. Come on my cock.”
The mix of the sensations and the sheer desperation on his voice, how needy it suddenly sounded did it for you. As your orgasm crashed over you like a tidal wave, your inner walls clamped down around him like a vice, cum gushing out to coat his cock and balls. The sensation was enough to tip him over the edge, and with a hoarse bellow, he buried himself to the hilt and came, his thick seed pulsing deep inside you as his body shuddered and spasmed.
“Fuck!" he gasped, his hands gripping your hips like an anchor as he rode out the waves of his climax. "Yes... oh, god... yes..." He collapsed on top of you, his weight pressing you into the couch as he struggled to catch his breath.
As you recovered, you started to process. Thinking to yourself. Did you- did you just fuck a priest? Maybe you ARE as troublesome as people claim.
He slowly pulled out of you, his softening cock slipping free with a wet plop. He leaned down, capturing your lips in a tender, lingering kiss, his eyes never leaving yours. "Don't overthink it, my sweet," he murmured against your mouth. "Just enjoy the afterglow."
He leaned on his elbow, his free hand gently brushing the hair from your face as he took in your flushed, sated features.
"We've both crossed lines. Lines we can't simply erase. But perhaps that's for the best. Perhaps this is the key to setting you free." A sly smile played on his lips as he stood, his naked form glistening with sweat in the dim light. "Now, how about we continue this little sin of ours in the bed, hmm?"
And as that idea enticed you… you realized that perhaps you ARE a lost cause.
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yuujispinkhair · 4 months ago
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I WANNA BE YOUR ENDGAME – Chapter 02
🏒❤️ A Hockey Romance feat. modern!Sukuna
Pairing: HockeyPlayer!Sukuna x Reader (female) Genre: College AU, Hockey AU, fluff + smut Playlist: I wanna be your Endgame Word Count: 4k Warnings: 18+, smut in later chapters, fuckbuddies to lovers. Mentions of cigarettes in this chapter. Reader is a creative writing student. Sukuna is an ice hockey player + history student. This story will have approximately 10 chapters. Minors don't interact. Header by me. Divider @/benkeibear
MASTERLIST
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"Will you come to my game this Saturday?"
Sukuna smirks that charming smirk at you again, and his voice is so velvety that it sounds as if he is asking you to come to his bedroom instead of coming to one of his ice hockey games.
You have no idea why you seem to keep running into him lately. Maybe you never were aware of how many times your paths crossed. Or maybe fate decided to play some funny little game with you and the resident hockey star, and now you keep meeting over and over again.
You shrug helplessly and smile at him,
"I don't know. I've never been to a game. I don't even know the rules."
"That doesn't matter. You'll understand it once you watch a game. And if not, you can always ask me to teach you. So, will you come and watch me play?"
Sukuna looks expectantly at you with those pretty eyes. They are a shade of brown you have never seen on anyone else before, that rich maroon color that reminds you of red wine and autumn. Those eyes and that damn boyish grin make it hard for you to say no to Sukuna.
You laugh to cover up how nervous he makes you when he is standing so close to you. Attack is the best form of defence, so you cross your arms in front of your chest, look up at Sukuna, and ask with a raised eyebrow,
"You really want me to watch you play, huh?"
Any other guy would probably get flustered and backpedal or act indifferent. But not Sukuna. His smirk grows even wider, and he nods confidently,
"Yes. Can you even say you went to college if you never saw a hockey game?"
And then he adds with a wink,
"If you come, I will score a goal just for you."
He flashes you another cocky smirk and doesn't wait for your answer but just walks away toward the gym. You stare after him, shaking your head. He is impossible! That confidence is insane! Almost infuriating.
Maybe you should watch Sukuna's game just to see him not deliver what he promised. Sure, he is the resident starboy, but how good can he be? It's not like he is a professional hockey player. Low-key, you want to see Sukuna fuck up just so you can confirm to yourself that he is just another of those arrogant guys who are all talk and no action.
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That Saturday, you watch the game. Your first hockey game since you started college. The first game of the Tigers you see. The first time you see Sukuna play.
And you must admit that the stupid title they gave him is accurate.
Sukuna really is The King of the Ice. He is the King of this whole arena!
His playstyle is fast and brutal, which doesn't come as a surprise. But even as a hockey noob, you can tell that Sukuna's mind plays just as much a part as his strength and is just as dangerous as his physical attacks. Strong, ambitious, and intelligent. It's a deadly combination that makes Sukuna unstoppable.
He skates across the ice at breakneck speed, elbowing his way through his opponents and making the rival goalie yell in fear at his teammates in a desperate attempt for them to stop the devil that is speeding towards him. But nothing the other team does seems to work against Sukuna. He is always a step ahead, sidestepping them before they can reach him as if he can predict their moves. You recall him telling you that he does all the analytics and works out the tactics, and you can see now that he didn't just brag but truly seems to know what he is doing.
No wonder the whole team is built around Sukuna. He is the most important player of the Red Tigers. The center of the first line, which to your amusement, is called The Curses because they make their opponents curse their names for being so damn strong. And Sukuna is the King of Curses, which seems a very fitting title. His brother Yuuji is on his right, and Todo is on his left, and both of them are ready to beat up everyone who dares touch their star player.
That's something that seems to happen pretty often. Sukuna keeps getting into fights, but many of them aren't initiated by the rival team. Even without knowing how ice hockey works, you can see that Sukuna provokes fights. You can see his lips move behind the face cage of his helmet while smirking devilishly at a player of the rival team, taunting him until the other guy snaps and drops his hockey stick and pushes Sukuna angrily.
At first, you flinch when you see the fight that erupts from that scene. Yuuji yells something and yanks that guy off a still-smirking Sukuna, dragging him away while Todo brutally bodychecks another rival player who comes over to join the rumble.
But both Yuuji and Todo stop immediately when Sukuna casually skates over and says something to them.
You watch incredulously as Sukuna pulls his gloves and helmet off, revealing his usually slicked-back pink hair, ruffled and out of place. He cocks his head and jerks his chin challengingly at the guy who pushed him, saying something to him, and you frown in confusion as the other guy takes off his helmet and gloves too.
What happens afterward is more of a boxing match than ice hockey. The whole arena is yelling and cheering Sukuna on, singing the team's song anytime their King lands a punch on the other player. Sukuna is a dirty fighter. You can see that. He uses any means he has to win. But he is also smart enough to only do as much as he can get away with without the referee intervening. Though it is a riddle to you, why a fight like that is even allowed in the first place.
You look at Nobara, who is sitting next to you.
"Why are they having a boxing match? Why does the referee not give them a penalty?"
Nobara shrugs,
"I don't know! That's just how hockey works, I guess!"
Right at that moment, Sukuna's fist connects with his opponent's cheek, and the other guy tumbles onto the ice. Sukuna joins him immediately, pressing him down for a moment as if to show his dominance before he lets go of him, pats his cheek tauntingly, and gets up again, smirking broadly.
You only realize now that you held your breath the whole time during the fight, letting it out now and laughing as adrenaline flows through your veins.
You didn't expect to enjoy this game so much, but it's definitely an experience you wouldn't want to miss!
The crowd is cheering loudly, celebrating their King's victory in this weird, inofficial fight that somehow is part of the actual game.
Sukuna skates back to his position, his helmet under one arm and one glove between his teeth, while he puts the other back on. He casually glides over the ice while smirking around the glove in his mouth like a beautiful devil. His eyes wander over the stands, soaking in the admiring gazes and the loud cheers coming from his fans.
And suddenly, Sukuna's gaze brushes over you.
You draw in a sharp breath at the same time as Sukuna digs the metal blades of his ice skates into the ice, coming to a sudden stop. He turns his head to scan the crowd again, and your heart jumps to your throat.
What is he doing? Is he looking for me?
Your heart is hammering in your chest when his gaze finds you again in the crowd, and his grin grows bigger, causing the glove to drop from the hold his teeth had on it, but he catches it casually with his left hand.
For a seemingly endless moment, you stare back at Sukuna, involuntarily feeling your lips lift in a matching broad grin. Your pulse flutters nervously. And then Sukuna winks at you.
Yuuji skates up to his brother and claps him on the back, and Sukuna averts his gaze from you and says something to his brother, pointing at another player, and they both skate over to him. You still look at the spot where Sukuna stood a moment ago, feeling a bit dizzy.
Nobara's voice pulls you out of your daze,
"Did he just wink at you?"
And you shrug helplessly and chuckle to hide how flustered Sukuna's wink made you,
"I don't know. Maybe he was looking at someone else."
But you know he wasn't.
The players on the ice get into position again, and the game continues. But Sukuna's line leaves the ice to sit on the bench while the other players get their turn. You hate to admit it, but you catch your gaze drifting away from the actual game and over to the bench, where Sukuna is sitting, discussing something with Yuuji and Todo.
You watch Sukuna run a hand through his ruffled pink hair, slicking it back again while he takes a sip from his water bottle, which makes his Adam's apple bop in a very enticing way.
Occasionally, Sukuna yells something at his teammates who skate past him. There's an angry fire burning in his eyes. You can see how invested he is in the game. How he watches every move meticulously, probably so he can use it later when he thinks of tactics for the next game. You can see how passionate Sukuna is about ice hockey, and if you are honest, it fills you with respect for him.
Sukuna is back on the ice a while later, just as graceful as before with smooth, fast moves and brutal bodychecks, clearing a path through the rival team's defense, skating so impossibly fast that no one can stop him.
Your fingernails dig painfully into your palms as you watch in complete fascination how Sukuna hits the puck so hard that it almost tears the net when he scores the next goal. The whole arena screams, and you are one of them. So caught up in the thrill of the highspeed game that you jump up from your seat.
On the ice, Sukuna gets buried under a pile of his teammates as they celebrate his insane goal, but once he emerges again with a fist lifted in victory into the air, his gaze instantly lands on you again. And to your shock, Sukuna is smiling. A dazzling, beautiful smile that lights up his whole face. He looks happy and proud and so damn beautiful.
You remember what he said when he asked you to come see his game. If you come to my game, I will score a goal just for you.
Well, he delivered what he promised. And what a goal it was!
Somehow, it makes you giggle like a schoolgirl, and you feel your face growing hot, even as you grin at Sukuna like an idiot. He seems to have only eyes for you, locked in this intense gaze with you while he still smiles that smile that makes your pulse flutter excitedly.
The eye contact becomes too intense for you, and you avert your gaze, too shy suddenly to keep looking at Sukuna.
The game continues, and you lean back in your seat, sipping on your water bottle to calm yourself down.
You wonder why no one ever cared to inform you how exciting ice hockey is! The Tigers are really good. Sukuna is good. No, not just good. He is fucking amazing!
It's fun to watch him play. Watching him skate across the ice like some super-human. Watching him bodycheck his opponents with ease. Watching him score goals with so much speed and precision that it leaves your mouth hanging open as you stare at him completely in awe.
The game is over much faster than you expected. Time flew by any time Sukuna was on the ice. You still have no clue about ice hockey, but you know that you had a damn good time!
On the ice, you see the Tigers high-fiving each other and giving each other back claps, congratulating each other on the win. You watch Sukuna pull off his helmet and laugh at something his coach says to him.
The team takes a victory lap around the rink, waving at the crowd in the stands. But your gaze only follows one specific player with pink hair and face tattoos.
Sukuna is chatting with his brother, reaching out to ruffle Yuuji's hair while they casually skate over the ice. His left hand stays on top of his brother's head even as Sukuna lifts the other hand and smirks up at the stands, letting the crowd celebrate him one last time.
Nobara taps your arm and points to the stairs, and you quickly grab your bag and follow her, still feeling light-headed from the euphoric atmosphere in the arena.
You walk past the plexiglass separating the stands from the ice when you see a flash of pink from the corners of your eyes.
You turn your head, and your gaze instantly lands on Sukuna. He is skating casually next to you, slow enough so he matches your walking pace. There's a smug grin on his tattooed face as he lifts his chin in greeting.
You smile back at him and yell, "Great game!" and his smirk grows even bigger before he yells back,
"Did you like the goal I scored for you?"
You trip over your own feet, making a funny little dance to catch yourself, feeling embarrassment wash over you while you think you hear Sukuna's amused laughter.
You look at him sheepishly, nodding and giving him a thumbs up,
"It was very impressive!"
Sukuna grins proudly at you, flashing his white teeth with the slightly pointy canines at you,
"Oh, everything I do is impressive, princess, I can guarantee."
And you roll your eyes and groan at his arrogance, but at the same time you can't help but snicker in amusement.
Sukuna chooses that moment to grab the front of his jersey and lift it to wipe the sweat off his tattooed face, revealing his stomach with firm abs and more tattoos.
Your eyelashes flutter, and you quickly turn your head away, feeling strangely flustered at the sight of Sukuna's naked skin with the sexy tattoos and all those hard muscles.
Luckily, Nobara grabs your arm at that moment and tells you to hurry up because she wants to meet up with Maki. You let yourself get pulled along, lifting your hand to wave at Sukuna and yell a "Bye!" in his direction, which he answers with a broad, knowing grin.
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"So, could I convince you that ice hockey is the best sport?"
You're on your way to class when you see Sukuna almost at the same spot where you crashed into him two weeks ago. But this time, he doesn't wear his white team hoodie but a black sleeveless shirt, which accentuates his broad shoulders and shows off his muscular arms. His red backpack is casually slung over one shoulder, and his maroon eyes sparkle expectantly at you.
You shrug.
"I had a great time. I still know nothing about hockey, though, so I'm not sure about it being the best sport. It was a bit confusing because you practically beat each other up, but the referee didn't do anything about it."
Sukuna laughs. He shoves his hands into the pockets of his black jeans and leans closer to you.
"Yeah, we have official rules and other rules. I'll explain it to you over lunch. Meet me here in four hours."
He makes it sound as if it is set in stone that the two of you will have lunch together. As if the option of you turning him down, is so crazy, that he doesn't even consider it.
You are suddenly very aware of how Sukuna is towering over you with his tall, broad hockey player figure. Imposing as hell. And his dominant personality only adds to the effect.
Maybe two weeks ago, you would have run, too intimidated by Sukuna's overpowering presence. But right now, he doesn't make you feel anxious. Instead, you catch yourself leaning even closer, looking up at him, barely resisting the urge to reach out and touch his bulging biceps with those sexy black bands tattooed on them.
Your lips lift in a smile, and you give him a nod and a soft,
"Ok, see you for lunch, Sukuna."
You quickly walk toward your classroom before you can do something embarrassing like really feeling him up or drooling on his stupid, too-tight shirt.
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Sukuna is already waiting for you at the agreed spot, and he grins so smugly at you that, for a moment, you contemplate just walking past him to see that smirk wiped off his face. But you behave and stop in front of him, cocking your head and asking him if he is ready.
Walking next to Sukuna feels strange, but not exactly in a bad way. Your height difference is even more prominent when you walk side by side, and it does weird things to your stomach anytime you sneak a glance at him.
But the strangest thing about the whole situation is the way Sukuna walks through the hallways as if he owns the place, and everyone seems to play along. You notice that people step aside to let him pass. Some even lower their heads, like peasants bowing to their King. It's insane to see how much authority he holds and how much people respect or even fear him.
And now you got pulled into this whole thing, too, by walking next to the hockey star!
You can see curious glances getting thrown your way. Guys are checking you out as if you are suddenly interesting now that Sukuna has graced you with his company. And girls watch you through narrowed eyes as if they ask themselves why you are allowed to walk next to Sukuna, and they aren't.
The only thing that's missing is people snapping pictures like some paparazzi.
The thought makes your lips twitch, trying to hold back a laugh as you imagine pictures of you and Sukuna walking into the dining hall together getting posted on some shady Instagram account with a caption asking who the mysterious woman by Sukuna's side is. Spotted: The resident hockey heartthrob and an unknown girl. As if you are in an episode of Gossip Girl.
A soft grunt escapes your lips, and you sway slightly to the right, making Sukuna bump into you. He reaches around you reflexively, and you feel his large, warm hand land on your upper arm, steadying you.
"Careful, princess. Or do you have a thing for crashing into me?"
You huff at his cocky comment, muttering an apology as you shake his arm off, at the same time as he pulls it away again, before you fall into step beside Sukuna again.
The dining hall is bustling at this time, but you and Sukuna make it surprisingly quickly to the counter because several people make space in the waiting line after taking one glance at Sukuna. You aren't sure whether it's his status as the hockey star or the glare he sends their way.
You get your meal and follow Sukuna, who leads you to a part of the dining hall you have never been to. Technically, this is not a private section, but everyone knows this part of the dining hall is reserved for the athletes, so you never bothered trying to find a table here.
Sukuna gestures to a table at the far end, beside the window. It is surrounded by lush decorative plants and even has a comfy-looking bench.
"This is my table. Come on, princess."
You frown at him,
"You have your own table? Is this some hockey player thing?"
Sukuna huffs and a low laugh escapes his lips,
"No, it's a Sukuna thing."
He strides over to his table and sits down on one of the chairs, graciously leaving the comfy bench to you. You smile at him and sit down across from him, placing your tray on the table.
Your gaze lands on Sukuna's tray, and you raise an eyebrow at the huge plate in front of him, filled with cooked chicken breasts, rice, and a whole mountain of broccoli. Sukuna catches your gaze and smirks at you,
"What? I have to take care of my body. I'm an athlete."
"Yeah, sure, an athlete who only eats cooked chicken and rice but smokes cigarettes. Makes a lot of sense."
"It's all about the balance. Now stop being a brat, and let me explain things to you."
Sukuna grins teasingly at you, and you can't help but grin back while rolling your eyes playfully.
Sukuna opens his backpack to grab a pen and a surprisingly neat folder from which he pulls a blank sheet of paper. He slams it on the table next to his plate and writes Hockey rules – A guide for curious brats by Sukuna on the top, making you complain in mock annoyance.
You spend the next thirty minutes eating your lunch while watching Sukuna fill the sheet with his unexpectedly graceful handwriting as he explains the rules to you. He even draws a small rink and some funny little hockey players. You laugh softly when you see him add face tattoos to the figure in the center of the first line.
Occasionally, Sukuna looks at you, maroon eyes framed by beautiful, long black lashes, gazing at you with amusement and so much intensity that it makes you feel like you are the only person in this room.
You gulp, feeling flustered at having Sukuna's undivided attention. And it doesn't help that his cologne smells really sexy when he leans across the table to point at the small drawings on the paper, explaining in that sexy, low voice how hockey works.
He is a good teacher, even though his pretty eyes and the sexy tattoos on his arms and face are distracting as hell.
But the official hockey rules are pretty easy to understand. What's more complex are the unofficial rules that Sukuna refers to as The Code, which explains why the players can beat each other up without the referee interfering. It leads to an animated discussion during which you have a ton of incredulous questions, and Sukuna answers all of them with an amused grin on his tattooed face but with surprising patience.
As your lunch break is drawing to an end, you are pretty well informed about the official and unofficial rules of the beautiful sport called ice hockey.
"Thank you, Sukuna. Now I finally understand what you are doing on the ice."
He cocks his head, laughing softly before he smirks that sexy, teasing smirk at you,
"You mean apart from looking handsome as hell?"
You groan at his arrogant remark but laugh, too, before you shove the sheet of paper across the table again. But Sukuna shakes his head.
"No, keep it, princess. So you can look at it again in case you forget something. Who knows... there might be some surprise tests. Better be prepared!"
He winks at you, and you laugh, but you take the note from his large hand.
The two of you walk side by side towards the exit, where your ways part. You thank Sukuna once again for the hockey lesson, and he grins at you. One of his large hands lands on your head and ruffles your hair, making you exclaim loudly. You reach up and try to smooth your hair down again while Sukuna walks away with his hand lifted in a casual wave.
When you return to your dorm later that afternoon, Nobara is instantly at your side, as if she manifested out of thin air.
"Why didn't you tell me you were going on a date with Sukuna?"
"That wasn't a date! We just had lunch together because he wanted to explain the ice hockey rules to me..."
You trail off, shrugging helplessly, while a triumphant grin spreads over Nobara's face,
"What do you need the rules for? To go to all his games?"
"It wasn't a date, Nobara!"
You quickly leave for your room, but you can't help but grin from ear to ear, clutching the note with the hockey rules even tighter to your chest. You know it wasn't a date, but you must admit that spending your lunch break with Sukuna was surprisingly nice, and you think you can still feel the warmth of his large hand on your arm.
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HE IS SO SEXY ON THE ICE AND OFF IT, TOO 😭😭 I had so much fun imagining Sukuna playing hockey! I hope you enjoyed watching him play, too, and that you enjoyed spending your lunch break with him ❤️
Thank you so much for reading Chapter 2! Comments and reblogs would be very sweet!
In Chapter 3 Reader gets to learn a bit more about our hockey star, and they have a little scene that is filled with sexual tension ;)
1K notes · View notes
minimomoe · 6 months ago
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How to Train your Demon
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Pairing: trueform! Sukuna x Fem Reader
Summary: Life has all kinds of wins and losses. You don't know which category to put your new demon husband in though.
Tags: MDNI!, red string of fate trope, true form sukuna, librarian reader, soul mates, reincarnation, accidental summoning, love at first sight (buti it's one-sided (until it's not)), Sukuna is demon, but he's v much in love, smut and stuff eventually i guess....
Song inspo: E.V.O.L- MARINA
Part I. II. III. IV. V. VI. VII. VIII. IX. X. XI. XII. XIII. (completed!)
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Rule no. 1: Don't show fear
It was a mistake. A comical, nonsensical, monumental mistake, but a mistake nonetheless. You didn’t mean to create a soul tie with a demon . All you did was read a torn up book from the library. Was it an occult book about spiritual practices in the Japanese Heian era? Yes… but it doesn’t warrant an eldritch horror being your life partner. 
Actually, according to the demon, you didn’t create the soul tie, he has been waiting for you all his life. Cute, but it didn’t make the situation any better. Damn your natural inclination to catch the old and withered items thrown into the donation boxes of the library you worked at. It just pained your heart to see pages falling out of books, and the ominous leather bound grimoire was no exception. 
Restoration was one of your favorite things to do. Knowledge is always worth saving, no matter how old it may be. Books were your life. You found yourself lost in them, enchanted, terrified, taught. You had no genre as your favorite. Everything was welcomed, nothing was off limits. You knew a little bit of every culture, every study, every block buster fantasy. If you could, you’d build a machine that would let you live inside of a book and experience the scene yourself. 
Technically you could ask your all powerful demon to do that, but you didn’t want to deal with him right now.
You still weren’t all too sure on how it happened. First you were glueing the pages back to the spine of the book, running your fingers over the deckled edges when you opened a page that was stuck together. You carefully peeled it apart, a task that took ten minutes to do to avoid any additional tears, and opened up to a page that was different from the rest. The words were written in a rush, the strokes of the characters dragging much longer than it should. You only knew a tiny bit of Japanese (but much more of Latin, Russian, Yoruba, and French from having just an abundance of time on your hands), but this time you could make out some of the words. 
You muttered the ones you knew for sure, used context clues for the ones that were beyond reading. It didn’t make a lick of sense to you. You closed the book with a clamp so that the glue would set and decided to come back to it tomorrow since it was closing time. There was no rush of wind, flash of lightning, or eerie sounds. Just you and the screech of a thousand cicadas as soon as you stepped outside to walk to your car. A normal Thursday night.
Until it wasn’t. 
You shuffled around your house with a new arc from your favorite novelist in one hand, a glass of wine in the other, and the largest frame of glasses known to man perched on your nose. Jazz music quietly spilled out from your hidden speakers, preventing the house from getting a little too quiet as you lived alone with your cat. It was a total boring cliche, you were well aware, but you were happy with your life. You had friends who you trusted, a great relationship with your parents, and just recently got out of a relationship with someone who you didn’t hate, you just grew apart. There was no chaotic, negative energy to feast on in your household and you liked it that way. 
You thought you heard your cat clawing on the door when you were snuggled away in your bed. You flipped the covers over and went to let her in to snuggle with you. 
“I’m so sorry, Cleo. I thought you were already in here with me,” you said, scooping her up from the floor. The ragdoll cat begrudgingly accepted your kisses of apology. You set her down on the bed, watching her find a good spot to curl up in and smiled. You went to reach for your wine glass you knew that you set on your nightstand, but there was nothing in the glass. You were sure that you didn’t finish it. You paced yourself well enough for it to last until at least chapter five, but there wasn’t a drop of alcohol left. 
“The quality of sake has diminished over the years, I see.” 
The voice came from all around the room but also deep in your chest. Cleo hissed, making a run for it out of your door, leaving you wildly spinning around for the intruder. You lunged for the heavy duty taser you kept in your nightstand, but when you turned around there was nobody there.
“What is that?” 
The bone chilling voice spoke again. Was it one person or many, you couldn’t tell. 
“I— I have a weapon!” You tried to steady your voice but it was hopeless. You were terrified. There was nobody there but you could feel a heavy presence in the room. 
“You call that a weapon?” The voice laughed. “The only weapon my wife needs is me.”
The statement made you falter. “Wife? Who are you?”
You turned around once again and nearly jumped out of your skin. A man, or a close approximation of one, sat on your bed flicking through your book. It was impossible, but he had twice as many limbs on his top half than he should, and double the amount of eyes. They were bright and red when scanning through your novel. “What language is this?” 
“F-french,” you whispered. You were dreaming. You had to be. That was the only way this could be happening. Still, dream or not, you had to protect yourself. You pressed your taser and watched the prongs leap out and touch his bare skin. He looked unbothered, merely looking down at his stomach where the taser landed and moved his arm to reveal a mouth on his abdomen. A tongue flopped out and licked the prongs, dragging it back to the mouth and the taser was slowly dragged out of your hands and into the mouth. You watched in horror as the hard plastic was crushed to pieces in front of your very eyes. 
“Useless weapon,” he reiterated, this time looking directly at you. “Don’t insult me again.” 
“Pl—please don’t hurt me.” There was nothing left to do but beg. You already punched yourself till blood was drawn. This was not a dream, you were looking at a real, evil monster who didn’t know French and ate high voltage tasers. 
He rose from your bed. You crawled away as much as you could until you bumped into a wall and still you wanted to move through it. He stood before you, looking over your trembling frame and called out for you. 
“Rise.” 
You rose, unsure if you really had a choice in the matter. One of his many hands cupped the side of your face. A clawed thumb brushed away the tear that fell on your cheek.
“Why do you weep?”
“Um… well… I don’t really know who you are,” you said honestly. You were still pinned to the wall, unable to flee and he took up your entire frame of sight. He nodded, removing his hand from your face and raising it in the air. You thought he was going to strike you and you flinched. When you opened your eyes again he was multiple steps away from you, still raising his palm.
“Time has faded your memory of me. You are my wife, and I am your husband. The string of fate proves that we are mates.” 
He stated it so matter of factly. You are my wife, and I am your husband. My wife, your husband. Mates. Forget dreaming, you have officially lost your mind. 
“I don’t… remember agreeing to that,” you said carefully. The words “husband” and “wife” bounced in your head in a crazy echo. You slumped to the floor, your body suddenly very tired. A laugh bubbled up your throat and escaped your mouth. So much for your boring life.
“Do you not feel the connection? The string is tied from my last finger to yours.” You looked at your hand, not seeing any supposed string and shook your head. 
He frowned. “You do not agree to it. It has been decided.” He crouched in front of you, inspecting your face earnestly. One side of his face was strange, not normal skin, instead inhuman, bumpy and shades darker. 
“You look the same after all this time,” he murmured. “I will make you remember.” 
“Let’s not do that,” you said quickly. “I don’t even know your name and I am not married. I’m a librarian and I have a cat. And I have never, ever met you before.”
“I am known as Sukuna, among other names,” he responded to one of your distresses. “What title is a librarian?”
This time you laughed. An deranged laugh, loud and unbecoming. Sukuna waited as impatiently as he could for you to be finished, but you kept on cackling. Once out of breath, you wiped the tears out of your eyes and leaned against the wall. It finally dawned on you how this happened. The drying grimoire that was locked up in the library was responsible for this strange turn of events.
“It’s not a title, at least, not in the way you’re thinking. It’s my job, one that I love very much. Was I ever a common worker before?”
Sukuna bristled at the thought. Even his tummy mouth frowned. “You were a queen. You wanted nothing because you had everything.”
“Interesting,” you mused. “I’m so not your girl.”
“I’m not interested in little girls.”
“Kudos to you. I think I’m going to sleep now. I’m clearly much more tired than I think I am.”
“We have things to discuss,” Sukuna protested, but you already slipped under the sheets. If I force myself to sleep he will go away, you thought. 
Instead you felt the dip of the other side of your bed and flung your eyes open. Sukuna was in bed, with you, staring your down with his four eyes. He was much too close for your liking. 
You looked at him wildly. “What are you doing?” 
“Resting with you.” 
“Get out of my bed!”
“Are you no longer tired?” 
“I am tired. Extremely tired, but that doesn’t mean I want you on my bed! Stay on the floor or something!”
Sukuna rolled his eyes at you and turned on his back, his arms crossed in two sets on his chest. 
“You were always particular with your sleeping habits. I see that hasn’t changed either.”
“Stop acting like you know me!”
Sukuna got off the bed to sit on the floor like you asked. The only problem is that you could feel his gaze prickling your skin, making it impossible to ignore him. You didn’t feel bad about kicking him out, he certainly didn’t have a pout on his face because of it, but something needed to be done. 
“Face the door instead of me,” you mumbled. 
His eyes twitched. “Commanding me like footmen,” he grumbled, yet he still turned away. You wondered if his obedience had something to do with the book. Sukuna had the aura of someone who doesn’t listen to anyone, yet he’s been more than understanding with you. Maybe you really were his wife. Maybe you were having a very elaborate and maladaptive daydream. You thought of “maybe’s” until the sun came up, still staring at the back of his pink, spiky hair. 
Your alarm chirped for you to get ready for work. You groaned. You didn’t get a second of sleep. You were too afraid of being eaten by the demon you accidentally summoned. You reached out to shut off the ringing clock as quietly as you could, but Sukuna touched it first. 
“How strange,” he said, turning the clock around in his hand. He brought it up to his ear, shook his head, tapped the glass. Then he crushed it. It was made of plastic, but the shards bent and broke to the floor left his hand unscratched. You gaped at the mess he made as he let the remains fall to the floor. “It was making a wretched sound.”
“Yeah…” you sighed. “It was pretty noisy.”
You had to find out how to get rid of him. Fast. 
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Thanks for reading loves!! lemme know what ya think xx
Part: I. II. III. IV. V. VI. VII. VIII. IX. X. XI. XII. XIII.
M.list || Twitter || Ao3
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thehighladywrites · 6 months ago
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ACOTAR MEN X READER, SITTING ON THEIR LAP
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✩ summary: different scenarios where you find yourself sitting on them
✩ warnings: nsfw, 18+, mentions of sex, mentions of self-doubt, kissing, begging, gossiping, fluff, smut, crack, fun times and soft Eris😭💗
✩ amara’s note: the original cassian hc was so long that i had to stop myself bc i was thirsting and it turned into a regular oneshot lmaooo😭 anyways enjoy babes!!!!💗💗💗
reblogs are really appreciated! :D
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RHYSAND
No matter how angry you and Rhys get or how petty the fight is, you two always end up holding hands, even while yelling at each other.
Sitting in his lap while you two argue about random, non important stuff is a standard
You guys just don’t do the whole “no touching” thing
Today, the argument was over who cooks better, both of you bickering pettily.
“Listen, I love you a lot, but the kitchen isn’t your best friend. It's crazy how you can burn an empty pot.”
“Maybe you’re crazy,” you retort, arms crossed over your chest as you step closer to him, leaning against his desk in his office.
He keeps arguing with you, going back and forth, while pushing his chair back from the desk to make room for you.
“Whatever, Rhys. I don’t even need to cook when I can summon anything. It’s stupid, and you’re being unfair,” you mutter as you put your hands on his shoulders and plop down in his lap, subconsciously warming at the way he holds your waist and places one hand on your back to keep you steady.
He suppresses a smile, scratching the back of his head as he looks up at your pouting self. “You’re absolutely right, sweetheart. I don’t know what I was thinking. Of course, you’re an amazing chef,” he concedes, his tone laced with affection.
“Awww, come with me while I make you something,” you say, flashing him an oblivious smile.
“Oh! Um, you sure we shouldn't order something or..?” he asks nervously, his voice getting higher as he kisses you.
You slip out of his lap and hurry downstairs to plan his meal, assuring him not to worry about ordering anything and to just come down for his favorite meal.
“Dear Gods,” he whispers as he gets up, a mix of worry and fear in his voice.
ERIS
Eris had been stressed out for a few weeks now. Nothing you said seemed to make a difference.
He was dealing with his father’s death, ruling a new court as the heir, and inheriting the High Lord powers. Your heart ached for him. You wanted to be there for him, giving him hugs and words of encouragement, but you were not on that level yet
Today had been the most stressful day yet, resulting in him shutting down and locking himself up in his bedroom.
“Eris, are you okay? Can I please come in?” you knock gently on the wooden door, voice hushed and gentle.
After a few moments of silence, you hear him shuffling behind the door until he opens it very slightly.
He is shirtless, only in a pair of pants. You manage to catch a glimpse of his tired, amber eyes before he turns around to lie in his bed.
The room looks clinically clean, the only disturbance being Eris’s rugged appearance.
Without saying a word, you walk over to him and give him a hug. It’s a long, warm hug that tells him everything he doesn’t allow himself to hear: you’re there for him.
It takes a few moments for him to hug you back, but when he does, he wraps his arms tightly around your waist, bringing you into his lap.
Only after an hour of silence does he speak
“I feel like i’m stuck. These powers are killing me, the board is fucking annoying, the folk believe i’m wicked and cruel and i have no idea what to do about anything.”
He looks up at you with desperate eyes, “Do you believe I’m truly wicked?”
You shake your head in honesty. “No, honey. I have not met anyone as smart, kindhearted and brave as you. Others do not know you like I do but they should,” you whisper, hands going through his tussled hair. “You’ve been hiding behind your mask for too long, Eris. Let people see the real you.”
The room goes quiet, the only sound being the beating of your hearts.
Slowly his lips meet yours in a new and experimental kiss. He stares up at you with his pupils blown but before you can apologize and get off his lap, he kisses you again and locks his arm around you
“Thank you,” he whispers between heating kisses, “Thank you, beautiful.”
CASSIAN
“Hi there sugar, what can I do for you?” Cassian asks sweetly as he flicks your nose with his finger, happy that you ran into his office and immediately plopped down on his lap
“Can you fuck me?” you ask, frustrated with the lack of dick lately.
His eyes widen slightly at your words, then he slowly cracks a handsome smile. “Gods. How inappropriate of you,” he teases, the amusement clear in his voice.
His teasing almost makes you sob. This was totally NOT the time. You almost roll your eyes before realizing he will so not give in if you give him that
“Cassian, i’m begging you. I want, no- need to be fucked. Please, i’m losing hearing in my left ear,” you beg as you get closer and sit in his lap, rubbing your hands all over his chest
He looked incredibly good, almost unfairly so. Cassian’s jaw and chin had grown scruffy in a ruggedly masculine way that made him look older and even more attractive.
A week without seeing him had only heightened your weakness for his body, making you throb.
“Losing hearing? You must be really dying for me, huh? Alright then. I’ll let you ride,” he smirks at you while unbuckling his belt.
He finally fucking let’s you fuck, hitting spots that makes you go fuzzy brained.
You make him promise to never be gone again before going for another ride, satisfied when he breathlessly promises.
LUCIEN
There is not a bigger shit-talking couple in Prythian than you two
One look between you two is enough.
Someone’s being annoying? You share an annoyed glance. Someone’s being rude? You share a baffled glance. Something’s juicy’s happening? You share a glance that says you will so talk about it when you get home.
“— and he has the audacity to two-time her? He’s lucky to find even one person willing to date him,” you gossip, lounging in Lucien’s lap, your voice dripping with disbelief.
“You’re not going to believe this, but this isn’t his first time. He did that to Tamlin’s cousin too,” Lucien adds, his tone filled with incredulity.
“No way,” you gasp in disbelief, shaking your head as the gossip sinks in.
“Yeah, apparently this guy fucks around in all courts and cheats on anyone willing to stomach. What a fucking loser, honestly,” Lucien nods in agreement, disdain evident in his voice. “The sick bastard gets off on it.”
“That reminds me, guess what I heard about Rhys in Rita’s yeaterday,” Lucien prompts, leaning in with a sly grin, clearly ready to share some gossip.
“Some males and females were talking about Rhys, saying he's replaced Feyre with a clone,” Lucien whispers, his tone laced with disdain. “And get this— they think her transformation from human to fae is fake and that there is no way she could possibly be the mother of Nyx.”
“A clone? They’ll say anything these days,” you exclaim, raising an eyebrow incredulously.
“That's exactly what I'm saying! They're probably just making shit up out of thin air,” Lucien replies, nodding in agreement.
“I wouldn't put it past them,” you say, shaking your head as you reach for a biscuit, happy to be sitting and gossiping with your love.
AZRIEL
Azriel loves when you sit on his lap.
It makes him feel safe and relaxed knowing you're close to him.
It's something he does every day when he comes home - having you in his lap. Sometimes you both sit quietly, other times you talk or fuck or cuddle, depending on how you’re feeling.
Azriel especially likes the fuck part.
He loves the part where you sit on his lap while he works. If you’re good, he’ll bend you over his desk and fuck you. If not, he still fucks you but he does it with no mercy
He makes you sit on his dick and tells you not to move and inch or you will be edged for hours, not being allowed to cum once
Fucking torture is what it is honestly
“Stop moving around so much, i can’t focus.”
“Do you blame me? You’ve buried your dick in me, of course i’m moving. Maybe do something about that.”
He raises his eyebrows at your snarky comment. If it’s something he didn’t need today it was sass.
His day was quite shitty and all he needed was his sweet mate who would kiss away his problems and take his dick perfectly
Azriel smiled slightly as he put his pen down. He would take out his frustrations on you today.
“You want to be fucked? Let’s fuck,” he says in a low tone
In the end, all his papers are scattered, all pens on the floor.
He is relaxed and all smiley while you’re on death’s door💗
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deesseshesca · 3 months ago
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PAC :How will your future lover explore your body ? (18+)
I found a little name for all of y'all ... Bébé d'Amour. Vous etes maintenant mes bébé d'amour (Y'all are now my Bébé d'Amour).
Good morning pretty souls, I'm not a lovey dovey human but for y'all I am ready to do almost anything.
SALE 
Until October 31 all readings on my ko-fi is 30$, only
Choose the image that’s speak to you and allow yourself to soak ONLY what’s reasoning with YOUR SITUATION.
Rules and Disclaimer 
I am the type of tarot reader to say as it is. Nothing is sugar coated but everything is sent with good intention. If you are not ready to face some truth, you should vagabond somewhere else.
MINOR DON'T INTERACT WITH THIS POST 
MINOR DON’T READ THIS POST 
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PILE 1 
Page pentacles, 2 swords (reverse), magician (reverse), page wands (reverse)
Their touch is going to make u reminisce about all the time u let someone else touch your body in ways u settle for. Like u never really wanted them to touch but you were to fucking lonely to refuse the act knowing damm well they were using u. Also they were not treating you correctly. They touch is going to make all the monster go away. All the time you were touch with little cares all forgiven to make place with memories of they’re caring touch. Some of y’all have self harm scars, suicide attempt scaring, they will caress it with so much love and thank u everytime for the fact that u stay even thought it was hard. They are grateful upon every stars that u’re self sabotaging behavior never got the best of u otherwise they would have never met u. Some of u don’t think you have a pretty pussy. Maybe u feel like u’re lips of too big or that they are not the same color as the rest of your cooch. Hey, they will to touch your pussy. Always munching with happiness. Others u are not circumcised, don’t matter they bumping their month on your dick with happiness in their eyes. Some of y’all have religious trauma, like your ex-environment made you think that sex is forbidden. Y’all don’t even like touching yourself. Even though u left a long time ago, u can’t seem to shake those fears off. They are going to take their time with u and respect which one  of your boundaries. At the end, you might still not like getting head but u are not going to feel as uncomfortable with the concept of it after their healing touch. Some of y’all have some vaginismus, I see them learning about it. So they can help u heal and respect the boundaries set by your body. I see them introducing the first toys before even going in themself. Until they are not sure u are ok, there’s no jumping the big boy. If you have endometriosis/PCOS, they will stop penetration sex and alter to fingering to make sure not to disturb the peace of the uterus before the big week. For all my pillow prince/princess today is your big day, they love leading. They don’t care if you spend the whole relationship on a pink/blue pillow. They love it for you. Their touch will still be playful. They will love to tickle u. Also they will love placing a hand on your stomach, even slepping on it. Especially my masculine energy, your pump stomach is literally their safe place. They will love giving you a good handjob while staring into your eyes (y’all probably have deep brown eyes) and caressing your stomach. 
💌 : Honestly Pile one, they are not going to be able to let go of you. Might be clingy, also they love language is physical touch. Will love updating you throughout the day. If you want to know more about that future love, you can always purchase my SOUL TRIBE membership unlocking all the extra content and extended PAC reading + the audio one.
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PILE 2 
4 wands (reverse), King cups (reverse), Hanged man, 6 swords 
They love to have their hands on your private parts on all times, not in a creepy way. They would be driving and suddenly here u go, being a finger fucked passager princess. If you are an owner of a dick, u better drive with both hands on the wheel because at any moment, they may start giving u a blowjob . If you have boobs, they will have they hand on them all the time. Not even in a sexual way but because it becomes their habit. Y’all might not give a fuck at some point, until somebody stare at u in public. U end up apologizing while glaring at u’re partner making sure to get they hands the fuck out your top. They are very sensitive to your reaction. Let’s say they wanna give u a hug and u move slightly away … here comes the overthinking. If they try a new move on u in bed but u don’t moan as good as usual. They don’t reproduce it. If u give an excellent reactions, they will put that move on rotation. Also if you have painful period cramps, they will message you stomach. If you have to go regularly to the doc, they will always try their best to be there and hold your hand. Touch = love regarding your future lover. They will caress your face when u speak. Tie your hair when your hand is busy. To my burn out babe that are trying their best or my type B babe who is always so damn clumsy, they will always be behind u giving u a hand. Even when u give them head, they still worry about your well being. I’m hearing : ‘’ Baby I don’t care, if u care or not. I love when (moan) u are giving (whimper) head and are comfortable’’ before attempting to tie your hair. After a week of bad depressive episodes they will run you a bath. When they sense that u are starting to distance yourself, they will always have an hand on your waist, on your leg, shoulder any fucking where. Just to keep u from leaving with your bad thoughts. All this stand for my man in the audience, your next babe don’t play about you. Their touch heal making u realize how much you DO matter. 
💌: If you want to know more about that future love, you can always purchase my SOUL TRIBE membership unlocking all the extra content and extended PAC reading + the audio one.
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PILE 3 
King wands (reverse), page wands (reverse), page cups, ace pentacles 
Straight from the beginning I’m getting a bad girl/boy from your person. They push everyone away but you. Actually they only see you. They don’t see any other women/men. They don’t even care about their own parents, the way they care about you. Your future person may have experienced deep trauma from age 8 - 10 years old, every night. Since is not the reading for and I did not ask for permission, I will not dive deeper into their lore. They touch = fire, when they lay their fingerprints on u, it is like your whole body is in heat. They enjoy mixing pain and pleasure. A fan of breathing plays because they get to squeeze your neck safely to give you pleasure. Loves squeezing you in general. If you have boobs, will love to squeeze them until it hurts. If you are a man, love to pinch your nipple until they see a little bit of blood even. They will also enjoy putting pressure on your balls while giving you a handjob. They are very experience lover. Probably have 15+ body. They love to play game with y’all. I’m hearing: ‘’ Let’s see how many times I can make u cum in a minute, princess…’’. If you are a man, they will love to eat your ass. If they lose you, they lose everything. They will probably haunt until they find you back again. They will NEVER raise their hand on u and  NEVER yell at you.  I see a vision of a text conversation. 
U : jhabwdbcaw
Them : hey babe, is everything ok …
U: auijdxja party hbduiAHBNDIL
Them: Can u give the phone (one of your friend).
U: But I wannnnnna takcfjawo to u 
Them: I know but I wanna see you. Can you please give the phone ? 
U: abxda yes hnqcfu
Them: Give the phone, love. 
Their touch is very gentle but very practical. Gently take your makeup off when u come back drunk. Gently draw into your tattoo if you are a man. Will casually lift up bridal style when they see dozing off while studying. If you are a guy, will softly wake you up and guide u to the bedroom. 
💌: If you want to know more about that future love, you can always purchase my SOUL TRIBE membership unlocking all the extra content and extended PAC reading + the audio one.
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PILE 4
Knight wands (reverse), Lovers (reverse), Emperor (reverse), Strength (reverse)
Touch = understanding, will give u a tap on the shoulder to encourage you. Will caress your arm while y’all are arguing. There’s a use of: ‘’ Good girl/boy’’ in y’all relationships. When they see you grabbing the sheet, while they are down to town, that’s when they know you are on cloud 9. The only time they will stop munching even if you have already orgasm. They will love to caress your inner thighs. Pass a sneaky hand on your tits. Loves making you want more, like I see y’all making out and they are barely touching your tits while you are caressing their body. Have a very brat energy. Love to get on your last nerve because they know you will punish them. That’s what gets them going.  Has a high sex drive can go round and round in the same day but it will always start with some kind of teasing.
💌 : Y'all are going to have an amazing communication. I sense that both of y'all are yappers. Y'all are messy, you love to call each other at the end of the day and share the tea on what's going on. They will never let you go to sleep angry. I see a vision of you mad even at them but y'all still cuddling. You guy are in silence, they know they mess up but they refuse to leave on your own. Better they let you gather your thoughts with them. They may have a trauma about somebody that die on them in a middle on text con versation. That's why they can't let u go when u are mad. Don't get them wrong, they won't force u to hug them or talk. If you can't handle looking at them, they will tare at the wall, while u are in the bed thinking. If you want to know more about that future love, you can always purchase my SOUL TRIBE membership unlocking all the extra content and extended PAC reading + the audio one.
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multific · 24 days ago
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A Goddess' Love
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Emperor Geta x Goddess!Reader
Warnings: mention of blood, spoilers for Gladiator II. 
Summary: As the Goddess of Chaos and war, you took a liking to the new Emperors especially the younger one.
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You loved violence.
You adored blood and bloodshed.
It brought you such joy when the Colosseum was built. Truly a place of wonder. You often sat amongst the crowd, enjoying the games.
When the new Emperors stepped up to rule, you smiled.
You knew you were going to like them.
Especially Geta.
His thirst for blood and his mind particularly interested you.
You wanted to get to know him, not just watch him from afar. You knew Gods weren't supposed to interact with mortals.
But you also didn't care.
You decided to head to one of their parties and enjoy yourself.
With a glass of wine in one hand you sat further from the crowd of people. 
"And what does a Dove like yourself do all alone?" the voice came as no surprise, you sensed his presence.
You looked at Emperor Geta and bowed your head.
"I apologise, my Emperor, I am not a big fan of crowds."
"Why decide to attend a party then?"
"I wished to see my Emperors and the wine is good," you said as you lifted the glass to your lips.
You watched him as his eyes scanned you.
"Do you wish to bed your Emperor?"
"I'm no whore."
"Never said you were."
"My desire goes beyond a bed I'm afraid."
"You intrigue me, what's your name?"
"Y/N."
"Beautiful name to a beautiful creature." he lifted his hand as if expecting you to kiss his ring. "You already know me then."
But you did not do such a thing. You only offered him a smile as you stood up and walked away from him.
---
The next time you met the Emperor was when his soldiers brought you in front of him.
"Finding you was a pain! You just walked away. Women would kill to get such an opportunity."
"I'm not like other women." you replied as he walked up and down with a frown on his face, clearly offended by your behaviour last week. 
"I should have your head for that!"
"Killing me wouldn't satisfy you." all guards left as he turned and put his hand on your neck, squeezing, you didn't even flinch.
"Do you not fear death?"
"A God doesn't fear such things." he chuckled.
"So, you are a Goddess now? How pathetic." just as he said that a loud thunder rang through, shaking the city of Rome.
Geta watched as your eyes darkened and suddenly let go of you, backing away from you as you let out a long breath.
"Emperor Geta, I have a proposition for you. You have always interested me as a man. Take me as your wife and you will be the first emperor to have a Goddess as his. But I wish to keep you all for myself as well. I'm quite selfish."
Geta watched you in disbelief.
"What kind of a God are you?"
"Chaos." your answer was short and simple. "Do you not desire me?"
"I do." his reply was immediate, it surprised even him. "I just cannot believe it."
Then suddenly a smile broke on his face, his mind filled with wicked ideas. They excited you, you reached out and touched his cheek with your fingers.
"You have ideas. Tell me." he looked into your eyes.
"Oh, how perfect you are. Not like other women, they are dull and all they want is gold. But you! You my Darling. You are a Goddess."
You smiled at his words.
You knew he was praising you for a reason. He was manipulative.
But he was also handsome.
You liked him.
"The things we will achieve." he smiled at you.
"Rome is on the brink of collapse, the people hate the Emperors, but I can change that. People know fear. People listen to it. And while they are afraid of you now, with me, they will be terrified." you spoke up.
"I will take you as my wife! The Roman Emperor with a Goddess as his wife! I like that." his pride was talking, you knew it. But you also knew that he would be perfect. 
Your first husband was a boring politician who you had to kill he got on your nerves too much. 
But Geta was different.
---
Caracalla walked with a knife in his hands.
You knew his intentions, you knew how he was manipulated by Macrinus. 
If you were honest, you might have grown too fond of Geta. But his death you didn't want.
You stood in front of Caracalla and looked at the knife in his hand. 
"You are being manipulated and you don't even notice. Do you truly think Macrinus is helpful for no reason? Do you truly not see what he wants?"
"Move woman!" but you didn't. 
"I cannot watch you kill the man I love."
"The man you love is a traitor!"
"Says the man holding a knife ready to kill his brother whom he grew up in the same womb with." you blinked at let out a sigh. "Caracalla, give me the knife."
"NO! I WILL KILL HIM AND THEN KILL YOU!" his yelling got Geta's attention as he opened the door behind you. Seeing his brother with a knife now pointed at you.
"What's going on here?"
"Macrinus sent him to kill you." you replied. 
"Brother, put the knife down."
"NO! I'm done with being your shadow." Caracalla moved to stab Geta but you stepped in the way, the blade cut into your stomach and both of them froze. 
You were bleeding as you looked up at Caracalla. 
"Get yourself together." and slapped him across the face. The sound of the slap echoed down the halls.
You grabbed the knife and pulled it out when Macrinus arrived.
"My Empress, are you okay?" he asked and you decided, you had enough.
Just as he intended for Geta, you cut Macrinus' head off.
"Brother, what is she?" asked Caracalla.
"A God." Geta replied. 
And that is exactly what you were, a God. With the head of the true traitor in your hand, you turned to both.
"I wish for a bath. My blood ruined my clothes. And you, better start using your brain!" you pointed at Caracalla before throwing Macrinus' head at him. 
He quickly nodded as you walked away, you could hear him apologising to Geta.
Geta of course felt offended as he stormed after you.
You were already in the bath, the water, red, from your blood.
"Will you be fine, Dear Wife?" he had a worried tone. It was strange to hear.
"Of course. I have survived worse. Men tried to poison me before. Making me eat and drink poison, but they are fools." you closed your eyes and relaxed in the warm water.
"Fools indeed." you heard the water move, indicating Geta getting in. "They cannot kill My Goddess. No one can." you felt his hands on your sides and you opened your eyes.
He was so close to you only a breath between your bodies and lips.
"Thank you." he whispered to you and you moved your hand on his shoulder, pulling yourself up and making your lips connect in a sweet and lustful kiss.
With you by his side, he will live a long life, possibly longer than any mortal man. Possibly it wasn't fair or right.
But you loved him.
And a Goddess' love is the strongest power.
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Gladiator II Collection
Taglist: 
@castellandiangelo @imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl @manduse @jacalineiscomingforyou 
@mandoloriancookie @deliciousfestsalad @lilliumrorum @asgards-princess-of-mischief 
@fallout-girl219 @dracaryxzs @snowtargaryen 
~Masterlist~
ˇAO3ˇ
/YOU DO NOT HAVE PERMISSION TO TRANSLATE, TO STEAL OR TO REUPLOAD ANY OF MY WORKS TO THIS OR OTHER PLATFORMS/
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criibibi · 3 months ago
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Synopsis: After losing so much, Spider-woman learns to just keep moving. Only for her to end up somewhere far from home. Her first agenda is figuring out where she is, and how to get back. The only problem is that she ended up somewhere fictional (to her). Playing hero with Batman was not in her bingo cards this year. Hopefully she will be able to make it back home before she catches unwanted attention.
Masterlist: Prev; Next;
Chapter 2 - Spider Luck
Morning came quickly despite the shitty sleep you received that night. The constant tossing and turning, the constant fear and anxiety of getting caught or broken into, really you couldn’t catch a break. 
Despite that, you did get some sleep, even if the sum total was like three hours. Still, it’s not like the nightmares would have let you sleep regardless. All your failures would consume your thoughts and drown you, reminding you of your losses. 
Sure you moved on, but it’s not like you had forgotten. Uncle Ben’s wisdom, Aunt May’s lessons, and Peter Parker’s kindness. You vowed to honor and cherish those memories, but here you are, in another fucking world, with a high possibility of you breaking some laws just to get out.
Desperate people do crazy shit, and you aren’t that sane to begin with.
Luckily this motel has a shower and you plan to use it. Making sure to clean yourself with what you have (unfortunate) and pick up the necessities that you desperately need. 
Taking your time (since you paid for it) you get yourself ready, making sure your mask, gloves and (stolen) wallet are secured inside the hoodie’s pockets. Suite nice and tucked underneath the turtleneck and leggings. First order of business is shoes. Maybe that should have been your first mission yesterday- oops. 
You definitely should have followed the young spiderlings example and fight crime with shoes. Well if you ever meet them again, you will…
When you meet them again. You will. You have to. No matter the cost.
And then your stomach rumbled. “Great! Time for cheap food. Wonder if that knockoff Wack-Donld place is open. 
Oh that’s a nice plan. But you forgot one thing, genius. Where is it? How would you know where it is? You can’t even map it since you also don’t have a phone. 
About to unlock the door, you realized something. It already was unlocked… “Hmm…” Well, it was good that you webbed the door then.
“Fuck.” Leaving the motel keys at the front, you skedaddled your way back into the streets, looking for either a bodega or a shoe store. In order to keep yourself somewhat sane, you start softly humming music you recall Miles shared with you.
After some time of walking around aimlessly (you avoided asking others for directions, gods know gothamites unwritten rule is to mind your fucking business), you found a thrift store.
Guess what you realized while browsing for shoes. If you buy and fight crime with shoes, and (as of right now) are your only pair, you will get found out. So crocs it is!
Black ones, because white gets dirty too damn easily.
Finding your size and other clothing necessities, face-mask, a backpack and a portable sewing kit, you were good to go and all for a cheap price! God you love thrift stores. You used to go to as many and as often as you could with Peter. Ya had a bad spending habit and Peter certainly never discouraged you. He was your terrible financial buddy.
Not now! You can’t reminisce right now, not until you found a way home. Asking the cashier for directions while also subtly declining their phone number (your excuse is that your phone got stolen) you made it to a corner store. Hurray!
Making sure to stock up on snacks, since- let’s be real, this will be your food source for a while, (no income, remember, silly) you stand in line to pay before your spider sense goes off.
Behind you. There’s a man, hoodie on, looking down, covering their face, hands buried inside their pockets. You’re betting it’s either a gun or a knife. 
“Don’t move or I’ll shoot.” Oh, it’s a gun. How original.
The cashier seemed to clock in to what is occurring and subtly reaches under his counter. Not subtle enough because the man behind you yelled, pulling out his gun and pointing at the back of your head.
What the fuck spider luck.
You quickly assess your surroundings, making note that there is only one exit, two normal people not including you but including the gunman, and the room feels tight and too small to do anything.
Conclusion? You’re fucked. 
“I said don’t move, hands up! Give me the money, all of it!” From the corner of your eyes you can see just how fidgety this man was. Probably trigger happy if you do something stupid.
“He-hey man, I don’t got much in here.” The cashier had his hands in the air, trembling and freaking out. 
“I don’t care, give me the money! Yours too, bitch. Now!”
How rude. “Alright, I’m going to get my wallet. Don’t shoot.” You made slow movements of reaching into your pocket for the wallet.
“Hurry up! Both of you!” The thug yelled impatiently. You could practically feel how sweaty and anxious this guy is.
You watched the employee open up the cashier and take the money out. The assailant motioned for you to place your wallet on the counter, which you do and step to the side, getting out of his way. Just as he goes to grab the money you quickly grab the wrist with the gun and twist it, making sure he dropped it before smashing his head onto said counter, money flying everywhere. 
Both you and the cashier watched the assailant fall to the ground, nose bleeding and out cold. “Um,” The cashier looked at you, spooked. “I panicked.”
Hey look at that, no shots fired baby! Ya still got it! You are a pro-fess-io-nal~!
“Hey man, no-um no sweat. You saved me.” He replies with a tremble in his voice.
“Cool, cool, I also didn’t want to get shot. How much for my stuff?” You asked, picking up the money on the floor, handing it back while placing your snacks on the counter..
“What stuff? I see nothing. Just go. I already called the cops.” Oh, so he wasn’t reaching for a gun (corner stores usually have one under the counters) but a buzzer or something? Nice, cool, great.
“Thanks buddy!” Hey man, free food is a blessing. Picking up your wallet and bag of snacks, you step over the knocked out guy, (pick pocketing any cash he had on him,) picking up the gun with your sweater sleeve and placing it at the counter. “Here, for the cops.”
“Thanks so much, again for everything. Hey, can I get a name? For the next time you come and…buy stuff.” He shot his shot.
“I appreciate it man, but I don’t give out my name like that. You know?”
And he missed.
“Ye-yeah…” He looked like a kicked puppy.
Just as you stepped out you heard the sound of a motorcycle nearby and your senses went off again.
“Stop right there, not another step.” A third party voice joins the fray.
What the fuck, spider luck?!
Instantly you recognize the vigilante in front of you but regardless you are not taking any chances today. 
Taking a step back inside the store, making sure to close the door on the guy. “Um, hey not to alarm you or anything but there is a guy with a mask standing outside.” Bringing your hands up (again) you back away from the entrance, snack bag swinging around with your movements. 
The employee nods pulled out the pistol from the counter (what the fuck, why would you grab that with your fingers my dude?) and aimed.
Well at least he doesn’t hold grudges for being rejected.
The door swung open and there stood a masked vigilante, but a familiar bat symbol on his chest caught the employee’s attention.
“Oh thank god it’s not another one.” Putting the pistol again he sighed in relief.
“Ah!” The yellow vigilante turned his focus onto you, (who backed up so much you tripped over the k.o.ed dude, fucking embarrassing) hands still in the air and snacks littering the floor.
Some professional you are. Fuck you spider luck.
“I didn’t steal anything, I swear.” God, you're embarrassed and stressed.
The vigilante ponders for a few seconds, taking in the scenario, glancing at the employee who nods and turns his attention back. “Sorry about that. Here.” He extends a hand out towards you and to not be suspicious you hesitantly take it, your body tenses on instinct, pulling away immediately.
“Thank you.” you mumbled silently cringing at your embarrassment over spilled snacks.
“What happened?” He still faced you but you knew that question was for the other party member. And even if it was for you, you’re silent.
“That dude tried to rob us and they knocked him out. Oh,” The cashier looked at his hands. “This is his.” And placed the pistol on the counter.
This looks like the perfect time to poof away so you do. Right after you pick up your snacks. Signal sees this and silently aids you. “You both aren’t hurt, right? Need medical assistance?”
No you fucking don’t.
Holding out the bag as Signal placed the last snack in you as you shook your head. “I’m a-okay. Thank you though.” And you walk out for the second time. You could still feel his eyes on you until the door closes.
And guess who shows up.
The men in blue.
“Hold it right there.” Bro, you just want to be left alone, is that so much to ask? This time instead of bringing your hands up (for a third time), you instead clutch your bag to your chest, mask down and point inside, making sure your voice matches your facial expression.
“In there, he stopped him there.” meek, timid, nervous.
It seems to have worked as the pair of policemen entered the store and you didn’t think twice and booked it (in a non suspicious manner- if you run, they might chase). Passing by a yellow motorcycle you take a glance back and see the vigilante stepping outside the store, looking somewhat bothered in the presence of the authorities. 
Sucks to suck, bud, you know that feeling very well, not your problem anymore.
As if feeling your eyes on him he turns his face towards you, your eyes meeting a mask. Oh fuck! You felt your hair stand up. Holding his gaze for a few seconds before turning away (any other abrupt movement would definitely make you look suspicious) you continue on your way.
Forcing yourself to not tense up and fight the urge to shiver at his cold gaze you round the corner and you feel somewhat safer again. But it’s a false sense of security, because you know you’re slowly losing your mind.
Hopefully you won’t run into him or any of the other bats.
-
Duke Thomas was patrolling his territory, the Narrows, when he got a notification.
“Signal, there’s a robbing occurring five blocks from your location. The corner store Convenience. Know it?” Oracle’s voice spoke through the comms.
“I know my way. I’m checking it out now.”
“Checking the cameras- there are only three people inside. The assailant, a civilian, and an employee.”
“Got it-”
“Oh wait. Huh, well look at that.” Disbelief could be heard through the comms.
“What is it?” Did things escalate too fast?
“The civi knocked the guy out. Basically one move.” Color Oracle impressed.
“I’m here, anything else I should know about?”
“I’m scanning what I can see of their face, but I’m coming up blank. I’ll let you know if anything.”
Duke didn’t reply, instead as he pulled up he saw someone coming out of the store. “Stop right there, not another step.”
He watched the figure (gender unidentifiable with the oversized hoodie) freeze before making eye contact with him-er his visor. Despite the hood being down, he could not see their face completely with their mask, only their eyes and hair. Just a normal civilian, who apparently knocked out a guy with a gun.
Then silence and no movement.
Until the civilian backed away, closing the store door.
Stunned for a moment, Duke could hear Oracles snort through the comms. “Think they’re scared?”
“From what, me? They took down a guy with a guy and I scared them?” 
“Careful, gun pointed straight at you inside.” warned Oracle.
He moves towards the front door, pushing it open to see the civilian from earlier backing away still, hands up before turning his attention to the employee with a gun. “Oh thank god it’s not another one.”
“Ah!” A yelp caught his attention and it seems the civi tripped on the knocked out guy he just noticed. They immediately spoke, catching his eyes,“I didn’t steal anything, I swear.” 
Duke holds in a snort before glancing at the employee who nods in confirmation before he focuses on the fallen person. He calmly walks towards them, taking note of their discomfort and reaches his hand out. “Sorry about that. Here.” 
Despite his covered eyes somewhat obscuring his vision, he couldn’t will them away from this stranger’s visible face. 
Duke watched their hesitation but placed their hands in his, and he swore he felt a spark that sent shivers down his spine. How curious. He pulled them up, noting just how light they felt in his hold.
“Thank you.” Their voice was soft, but audible.
They quickly pulled their hand away, the warmth gone. His hand held its place for a couple of seconds before he let it fall to his side. “What happened?” He still faced the civilian, both unmoving. He already knew what occurred, Oracle told him everything, but he wanted to hear them talk more.
Only the employee replied. He took note of their lack of eye contact. 
“That dude tried to rob us and they knocked him out. Oh,” Duke glanced as the cashier placed the gun on the counter. He’ll leave that for the cops to pick up if they don’t get here before he leaves. “This is his.”
His attention is once again stolen as the civilian in front of him kneels to pick up their half empty bag. Standing above them, he notes the tips of their ears are red, how cute.
“You good there, romeo? You kinda have a staring problem.” Oracle’s voice snapped him out of his trance.
Duke cleared his mind (he hoped he didn’t look weird or creepy, yikes) before leaning down as well and helped pick up the tossed chip bags.
Though he did take his time, just to squeeze a bit more time with this civilian that he has yet to identify. “You both aren’t hurt, right? Need medical assistance?” He mostly directed this question to them than the cashier behind him. He wonders if Oracle figured out this civilian's name. 
Placing the last snack inside the plastic bag he watches them straighten up before shaking their head. “I’m a-okay. Thank you though.” His eyes couldn’t seem to leave their figure as he watched them walk out the door.
“Cops outside, Signal.” Oracle once again breaks his attention. 
“Got it.” Duke turns his attention to the guy on the floor, sitting him up as two officers enter the store. One takes the guy off his hands while the other questions the employee, taking the gun.
A slight restless feeling took over him and he made his way outside, the one carrying the passed out guy following. Duke quickly takes notice of eyes watching him and he turns to see the complete unmasked civilian from earlier. 
This time, he really felt like he had a staring problem. He drinks up their appearance like water. Their nose, lips, face shape, everything. He didn’t know how to explain it, but he really couldn’t look away this time. Everything around him suddenly felt silent. He felt his body shiver.
Such a pretty face, this civilian caught his breath regardless. He’s not one to lose himself by a pretty face but it seems this one was an exception. He felt mesmerized, entranced, and tongue-tied. Something about this person had a strong lock on him, and he couldn’t help but feel somewhat excited then put off. It felt like a very tight leash, and he doesn’t mind one bit.
Three seconds. Ever since he caught their gaze, they made eye-contact (despite him wearing a mask) before she looked away and left, turning the corner. (Their features look pretty feminine so he’s going with her). 
“Anything Oracle?” He mumbled, still a bit lost.
“No dice. How strange…”
Bummer. He mounts his ride and drives off to finish the rest of his patrol. He’s tempted to drive in the direction the civilian went to, but he wills himself to not do that. God it’s like he’s down bad. Really bad.
Hopefully he gets to see you soon, it seems you’re staying in the Narrows which increases his chances to see you. As much as he curses himself internally, he hopes he can save you next time something dangerous happens again.
Something formed in the pit of his stomach, and he doesn’t know if it’s desire or obsession.
Regardless, he embraces this feeling whole heartedly.
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Prev; Next;
I struggled really hard, like REALLY hard. Duke is new to me (i only learned of him because of the webtoon) Now I'm reading issues he has been in and I don't know his character well but there is a SEVERE lack of Duke fics and I made it everyone's problem. So now he's down bad.
Updates are random and spars, no update schedule and don't plan to make one. This is my hobby not my obligation.
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softbeej · 11 months ago
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Rule Number One (You Gotta Have Fun)
Alastor x Reader Smut. U break his only rule and bother him while hes tryna work. Enjoy. :} Requests open btw.
Alastor had locked himself up in his radio tower for what felt like days. He was truly a workaholic, and loved to be busy. This was fine, except you found yourself actually sort of... missing him?
No sight of him creeping down the hallway or the impending feeling that he was about to catch you doing something prohibited at the hotel. It all felt too empty all of a sudden, and you wished he’d be back down soon, even if just to make you uneasy with that eerie smile.
So, you decided to break the number one rule set by him.
“Under no circumstances is anyone to ever enter the radio tower without my express permission.”
Well, what are rules if not to be broken, right? And that’s where you found yourself, climbing up into the prohibited area.
Ears pressed back, he turned to face you. There was no other way to put it, Alastor was fucking pissed.
You shouldn’t of come up here. You should of listened to his stupid rule, and busied yourself with something else. Maybe you had time to turn around, and pretend you made a wrong turn.
“I trust you have something important for me? Something that would be worth you coming all the way up here without my say so, hm?”
His voice was even more staticky than usual, his tone dripping with sarcasm. You were thinking up a response when he stood up and strode over to you. He jabbed his microphone stand under your jaw, albeit gently, and forced you to look at him.
“Well, deary?”
You only shook your head, hair bouncing on your shoulders.
“Then why, pray tell, are you up here? And use your words this time, yes?”
Within those few words, you suddenly understood why he was so feared. Just from the way he spoke, he could make you feel tiny and stupid.
“I, um, was just wondering where you were, is all...”
“Oh?” He released the microphone stand and you faced the floor again, feeling like a child about to get scolded. “You did know where I was though, didn’t you? So, I’ll ask once more. What brought you up here?”
He had retired back to his chair, and was watching you intently as you squirmed at his questioning. His smile never once left his face.
“You know what, I should go-“
Slam. His shadow had closed the door.
“Has no one ever told you it’s rude to ignore someone, darling? I’m just asking you a simple question, what’s the need for all this attitude? Why are you here?”
Blush rising to your face, you picked at skin around your nails still not wanting to look at his shit eating grin.
“I was bored. Missed you.”
“Ah, there we go! You see how easy that was?”
You nodded, “Can I go now? Sorry for interrupting...”
“Nonsense! You missed me, did you not? You came all the way up here for me, desperate for my attention. Well, dear, my attention you have got. Come, sit, sit.” He patted his thigh.
Oh, how you wished the world would swallow you up right now. But the worst part of this was how turned on you were at his lecturing. You think your reaction was doing the same to him, given the way his ears were perked up and pupils blown.
You walked over to him, gently perching on his knee, before he pulled you down by your waist so you were properly sitting in his lap. He continued working, tapping buttons and twisting dials, as you could only sit there and pray your heart rate would soon go back to normal.
"If I did not know any better, I'd say this encounter has you quite excited, darling! The way your pulse is rising, and not to mention the fact I can smell the arousal on you!" He laughed. "You'd tell me, wouldn't you? If I had brought out such emotions in you."
Your blood drew hot in shame, he knew.
You nodded and tried to save face, "Yes, Alastor. I'm fine, just- my pulse is high from the walk up here, that's all."
"And if you were to stand up, your answer would be the same, I presume?"
Confused, you cocked your head. He didn't say anything, just wrapped his hands around your waist and stood you up.
There it was, the evidence he was looking for. A wet patch on his thigh. Right from where you were sitting. Your wetness had leaked through your panties, leaving a spot on his dress pants.
“Well, look at this mess. And my best pants, no less! Do you have anything to say for yourself, dear?”
You shook your head, never so embarrassed in your life.
He tutted, "First, you lie about why you came up here. Then you lie about this? Darling, have you no manners? Or am I to teach you them myself, hm?"
His eyes were half lidded now, ears twitching.
"I- uh. I think you need to teach me, Alastor..." You admitted, not able to take your eyes off him.
“Finally! The right answer! You’re getting the hang of this now, eh?” He laughed, and patted his thigh - the one you’d dirtied, “Back up here. May as well see how much more you can ruin them.”
Legs shaking, you stood up and straddled his thigh. He leaned in close, “Now get yourself off. You can do that, yes? If your mewls at night are anything to go by, I’d say you’re to be a natural at this!”
The thought of Alastor hearing you play with yourself through your bedroom door sent shivers down your spine, in a good way. He grabbed your chin, angling your head to face him.
“I said you can do that, yes, dear?”
You nodded, hands reaching up to his shoulders to steady yourself as you started grinding down on his thigh like your life depended on it, maybe it did. You could feel his cock hardening. His hands trailed down your body to your hips where they stayed, helping you slowly ride his thigh.
“Theres a good girl, hm? See what happens when you behave?”
You nodded, breathing heavy, “Uh-huh.”
Alastor nodded, his hips gently bucking up for friction. Your hand went to zipper to help, but he brushed it away.
“This is your lesson. Not mine.” He winked.
So you kept riding his thigh, until your own thighs were weak, and you were close. And he knew it.
“If this were a proper lesson, I wouldn’t allow you to cum. But you’ve been so good, so good for me... You may cum.”
You nodded into the nook of his neck, letting out a pathetic whiny mewl as you came, soddening his pants. From the sound of it, he came too, letting out a staticky grunt that would of hurt your ears if you were paying attention, but you were too busy grinding your way through your climax, as he shushed you gently.
He helped you stand up, your thighs shaking and almost giving out under you. A sharp finger pressed into the stain on his pants, before he collected some of the wetness and licked it off.
“Head off to my bedroom, now, love. Get yourself cleaned up. I’m nowhere near done with you yet.”
The walk to his bedroom was strange to say the least. Your knees shaking and panties wet, of course Angel was going to say something.
“Christ, you look like you been fucked good, sweets.”
“I have, I think...?”
“Oh yeah? And whose the lucky son of a bitch, huh? He knows not to fuck with you, right?” He winked, ever protective of you.
As if on cue, Alastor appeared, strolling carelessly toward you both. A hand on your shoulder.
“Sorry to interrupt, Angel, my dear, but I’m afraid we have something to take care of. If you’ll excuse us...” He guided you away, towards his room.
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parkitrighthere · 3 months ago
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ASHES OF A PROMISE
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• TITLE: ASHES OF A PROMISE
• PAIRING: Lycan king!Jungkook x Werewolf!Reader
•WORD COUNT: 4.2k
• GENRE: Paranormal Romance, Dark Fantasy, Smut, Slow burn, Fluff (?), Tragic Romance, werewolf au, Royal au
• TRIGGER WARNING: This story contains mention of abuse, with themes of intense physical desire, possessive (dom-sub) dynamics, and primal, instinct-driven encounters. It also explores deep emotional conflict, grief, loss, and difficult decisions surrounding love and sacrifice. Reader discretion is strongly advised.
• SUMMARY: You were a hopeless romantic, dreaming of a mate who would love you as fiercely as you loved him. But when you finally meet your mate, you discover he’s no ordinary wolf — he’s the Lycan king, the alpha of all alphas. Worse, he neither wants you nor is willing to reject you, leaving you trapped in a loveless bond in his kingdom. As queen to a king who resents you, the mate bond grows stronger, making you more vulnerable with each passing day. Now, you must break through the walls around his heart and make him love you, because staying in this bond without love is unbearable, yet leaving isn’t an option he’ll allow.
• a/n: This story is entirely a work of fiction and is the sole property of @parkitrighthere. The characters, events, and scenarios depicted are products of the imagination and are not intended to represent or reflect real-life situations, nor do I wish for anything portrayed here to occur in reality. I kindly ask that my work not be copied, translated, or reposted as your own on this or any other platform, including YouTube. Please respect the effort and originality behind this piece. Thank you for your understanding and support.
MASTERLIST 01
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PROLOGUE: bound by fate forsaken by love
"Careful," Alpha Sebastian growled, his fingers clamping down around your arm like a vice. His nostrils flared, the sound of his shallow breaths prickling your skin as he yanked you upright. You winced, pain flaring in your arm, but he didn’t let go, his grip ironclad. "I didn't bring you here to humiliate me."
Your pulse raced, eyes wide with a mix of fear and confusion, but you nodded quickly. His gaze burned into you, his jaw clenched, as if daring you to do anything out of line. His fingers tightened, and for a moment, you thought your bones might snap under the pressure.
Abruptly, he shoved you back. “Behave.” The force sent you stumbling, your feet struggling to find balance. You caught yourself just before falling, your hand instinctively reaching up to cradle your arm, your fingers brushing over the dark bruises already forming in the shape of his fingers.
He turned, striding forward as if nothing had happened, but you stayed a step behind, the sight of the looming Lycan Palace making your stomach twist. The Lycan King, Jeon Jungkook, ruled from there. The heir to the Moon Goddess herself. But even his power felt distant and untouchable compared to the suffocating presence of Alpha Sebastian beside you.
Each step you took felt heavier, dragging you closer to something you didn’t want to face. You’d dreaded this moment—being forced to make a public appearance with Sebastian, to let the world assume you were his. People would talk. They would say you'd given yourself to your Alpha, that you were bound to him. But you weren't. Not yet. You were still waiting for your mate. But how long could you hold on when Sebastian hovered over you like a predator, desperate to make you his?
"Look," he spat, spinning around so suddenly that you collided with his chest. The bitter stench of sweat and something rotten made you flinch, and you recoiled instinctively, your nose wrinkling in disgust. His lip curled as he grabbed your shoulders roughly, his fingers digging in. "You stupid woman. I should never have brought you here."
You trembled, your breath hitching as his hand shot up. You flinched hard, instinctively bracing for a blow. But it didn’t come. He sneered at your reaction, his eyes darting around, scanning for witnesses. "Don’t you dare make a scene. Do you hear me?" His voice dropped to a low hiss, filled with threat. "If you embarrass me, you'll pay for it later."
You swallowed hard, your eyes fixed on the ground, trying to steady your shaking hands. “Yes, Alpha.”
“Call me Seb, my love.” His voice softened mockingly as his rough fingers trailed along your arm, leaving a sickening trail of goosebumps. "We'll be mated soon." His laugh was low and smug, and you fought the urge to shudder as he brushed his lips against your ear.
His hand closed around yours without warning, pulling you roughly beside him. As you crossed through the grand golden gates, your breath caught. The palace was magnificent, towering and glittering in the golden light, its beauty almost blinding. It was like stepping into a dream, something so beautiful, so overwhelming, it felt unreal. But all you could feel was the suffocating grip of Sebastian’s hand, his presence a chain, dragging you deeper into a world you wanted no part of.
But the moment you crossed the threshold, something else took hold of you—a scent, one you couldn’t place but that sank into your senses like fire and silk. It was sweet, yet left a trace of salt on your tongue, like a tease of something forbidden. Your wolf stirred violently, clawing at you, demanding you follow it, to find the source. Instinctively, your feet moved in the same direction the scent was coming from, pulling you toward it, but then, Sebastian’s grip tightened.
“Where do you think you’re going?” His voice was low, cold. He yanked you back, his eyes locking on yours, hard and blazing with fury. You whimpered, trying to suppress the surge of your wolf's presence, but it clawed beneath your skin, making you tremble.
You weren’t scared. Not of him. But the loss of that intoxicating scent stung like a fresh wound, an aching emptiness you couldn't explain. You glanced down, guilt swirling in your chest, and muttered an apology, though you weren’t sure why.
Alpha Sebastian’s jaw clenched, the muscles in his neck straining as he glared at you. His nostrils flared as if he was holding himself back. You knew he wanted to lash out, to punish you for daring to act on impulse, but here, at Lycan palace, surrounded by other powerful alphas, his hands were tied. He couldn't do anything here. Not openly, at least. He was smart enough to understand the consequences of disrupting the highly anticipated celebration of the Lycan king.
His grip was bruising as he yanked you close again, his fingers digging into your skin, and without another word, he dragged you forward, his movements sharp and impatient. You stumbled, trying to keep up, your chest tight, the air thick with the scent you couldn't chase. Every step away from it felt like losing a piece of yourself.
The grand hall you were pulled into was nothing short of magnificent—gleaming chandeliers hung like jewels from the high ceilings, casting a golden light across the polished marble floors. The walls were draped in rich, dark silks, with delicate gold accents that made the entire space feel otherworldly. Tables were laid out with decadent feasts, plates filled with dishes you couldn’t name, though their smells mingled together in an overwhelming haze of spices and sweetness.
Wolves of every rank were scattered around the room, their conversations buzzing in the air, their clothes elegant and fashionable. Alphas stood tall, their chests puffed out as if to assert their dominance even here. Lunas, the mates of the alphas, swirled in flowing gowns, their laughter light but their eyes sharp. You could see them dancing together—pairs spinning in perfect harmony, their movements fluid and powerful, exuding grace and strength. For a moment, you let yourself imagine being in that position. How it would feel to be in your mate's arms, not dragged around like a possession, but held close, cherished.
Your heart ached at the sight. You wanted that too—a mate, someone who would look at you the way these alphas gazed at their lunas, with love and pride. The longing inside you twisted, pulling at the raw edges of your soul. The scent that had driven you mad earlier lingered in the back of your mind, making it impossible to forget. It was as if your wolf was howling inside you, desperate for something you couldn’t reach.
As you and Alpha Sebastian made your way deeper into the hall, Royal Beta Kane approached, his posture stiff but polite. His eyes flicked to you, then quickly back to Sebastian. "Alpha Sebastian," he greeted with a slight nod, his voice steady though his expression barely hid the distaste he had for the man beside you. Kane was well respected, a figure of calm authority, but here, in front of Sebastian, there was something uneasy about the way his jaw clenched, his eyes narrowing ever so slightly.
Alpha Sebastian barely acknowledged him, his fingers still digging into your arm. “Bee, this man has some serious issues,” your wolf whispered in your head, and you couldn’t help but agree. Alpha Sebastian was undeniably disrespectful. Beta Kane could easily take him down, but you trusted that he wouldn’t; he was strong yet kind. Kane's gaze slid to you again, softer this time, but still cautious. "Welcome," he added, though it was clear the welcome was more for you than the alpha at your side. There was something in his tone that hinted at a shared understanding, like he knew more than he was letting on. "The night’s just begun."
Before you could respond, a woman appeared at Kane’s side, her posture relaxed but her smile sharp. Beta female Shina, Kane’s mate. She greeted you with warmth that almost made you drop your guard, her hand gently touching your arm. "You look stunning tonight," she said kindly, but there was a flicker of something deeper in her eyes. Curiosity, maybe even suspicion. Her words seemed genuine, yet you could feel the weight behind them, like she was searching for something in you.
“Thank you!” you replied, a subtle smile touching your lips. “You look lovely as well.”
Shina’s gaze lingered a little too long before she asked, almost too casually, "Have you found your mate yet?" The question came like a dagger wrapped in silk. Her tone was light, but you could feel the intensity of her interest, the way her eyes seemed to pierce through you, trying to extract some hidden truth.
You opened your mouth.
Then closed it again.
You hesitated, but before you could say anything, Sebastian’s grip tightened, pulling you closer to him. "That’s not a concern right now," he interjected smoothly, his voice cold but controlled, a smirk playing at the corner of his lips. He didn’t even look at Shina, his eyes staring straight ahead, but his tone was enough to shut the conversation down. "We’re here for the gathering, not to entertain idle gossip."
Shina’s smile didn’t falter, but you could see the flicker of disapproval in her eyes, though she quickly masked it. Kane, on the other hand, openly glared at Alpha Sebastian for a split second before offering a strained smile. "Of course, Alpha." His voice was clipped, and you could sense how much he loathed the man dragging you around like a trophy.
As you continued through the hall, your eyes wandered again. The space was filled with grandeur, but it all felt suffocating, like you were on display for everyone to judge. The music, the laughter, the mingling wolves—it all felt distant, like you were watching from behind a glass, detached from the joy around you. Your focus kept drifting back to that scent, tugging at your mind like a beacon, and every step Sebastian pulled you further from it, the more hollow you felt.
Then, as you glanced back at the couples dancing together, something inside you snapped. Your wolf stirred, restless, a growl rumbling in the back of your throat as you watched their perfect harmony. You wanted that too, but not with Alpha Sebastian. Never with him. The frustration, the longing, everything was becoming unbearable. You could feel your wolf pushing at the edges of your control, wanting to break free, to find the source of that scent that had consumed you.
Alpha Sebastian suddenly pulled you closer, his face hard as he whispered into your ear, his breath hot and cruel. "Keep your eyes forward," he growled. "You’re making a spectacle of yourself." His grip on you tightened again, and this time, you felt your resolve harden.
The night was only beginning, but you were already suffocating.
The night stretched on painfully. Eyes followed you everywhere, and not just because you stood beside an alpha. You could feel the weight of their scrutiny—the whispers, the stares from the other wolves, especially the women. The kind of attention that crawled under your skin, making your body tense and your heart race. But you knew why they looked at you like that.
Alpha Sebastian had lost his mate. Your luna, beautiful, kind, beloved by the pack, was gone. And yet here he was, parading you around like a replacement. It didn’t sit right with the other alphas. Their glances spoke volumes—curiosity, disdain, disbelief. Even the lunas looked at you like you had somehow betrayed your mate’s memory, as if you had willingly stepped into this twisted role.
But they didn’t know the truth. None of them did.
You forced yourself to stand tall, even though their whispers buzzed like wasps in your ears, stinging with every word. They thought you wanted this—power, position. They thought you were trying to become the next luna. But that couldn’t be further from the truth. Power meant nothing to you. All you wanted was freedom. To be loved, to be safe, to find your mate and escape this nightmare.
Alpha Sebastian’s hand was still a vise around your arm, his anger barely contained. You could feel it radiating off him in waves, his frustration at being unable to act, his fury at the alphas who dared question him. His eyes burned with it every time someone looked at you for too long, his grip tightening as if to remind them that you were his.
But suddenly, it hit you again—the scent. That same intoxicating smell that had nearly pulled you under earlier. Sweet, but with that strange, salty edge. Your wolf surged to life inside you, snarling, pushing, desperate to follow it, to find its source. You tensed, fighting the urge to tear away from Sebastian’s hold, to run toward it. Your breath quickened, heart pounding as the scent grew stronger, pulling at you like an invisible thread.
Your wolf howled in your chest, clawing to get free. You couldn’t stop it this time. Your body trembled, muscles twitching with the need to move, to find the one who carried that scent.
Alpha Sebastian must have felt the shift in you because he suddenly jerked you closer, his face twisted in rage as he leaned down, hissing in your ear. “Don’t even think about it.”
But, it was too late. The worst was already done. You were the one who had done it.
Your hands were trembling, outstretched before you, eyes glazed over with a wild yellow glow as your wolf surged to the surface. You didn’t even realize what you’d done until you saw him—Sebastian—your alpha, sprawled on the floor. His face twisted in shock, a groan escaping his lips, the pain evident in his expression. But it wasn’t the pain that held his features for long. It was humiliation. His eyes, wide with disbelief, met yours, and then that disbelief turned into something worse.
Rage.
A cold shiver ran down your spine as his eyes burned into you, glowing with that fierce, golden fury only an alpha possessed. You knew you had crossed a line. A line no one crossed and lived to tell about. Panic bloomed in your chest, a voice screaming inside your head, This is it. You’re going to die. Today’s your last day on this earth.
"Really, Bee? You're telling yourself that crap? He won’t kill you." Your wolf's voice broke through, but her words didn’t settle the fear. Not when you saw Alpha Sebastian’s jaw clench, the muscles ticking as his eyes flared even brighter.
He stood, his movements quick and deadly, not even brushing off the dirt on his clothes as he advanced. In a heartbeat, his hand was on you again, tighter than before, pulling you forward with a bruising grip. You stumbled, your feet barely keeping up as he dragged you through a maze of dark hallways. The walls seemed to close in, the darkness swallowing you both, but none of it mattered. The scent—the one that had your wolf clawing to the surface—grew stronger, pulling you closer to it with each step.
But then, he stopped.
Before you could even catch your breath, Alpha Sebastian slammed you against the cold stone wall, his hand wrapping around your throat, cutting off your air. Your back hit the wall hard, knocking the wind out of you, and you gasped, clawing at his hand. His grip only tightened. You could feel your wolf shrinking, her presence slipping away, retreating like a coward.
“How dare you,” he snarled, his face inches from yours, his breath hot and bitter on your skin. His eyes blazed with raw fury, and you could almost feel the heat of it searing into you. “You fucking slut!” The words were venom, dripping with hate as his grip tightened even more. The edges of your vision blurred, your chest heaving as you tried to suck in what little air you could.
"Yuck," your wolf muttered from the far corners of your mind, disgusted. But you couldn’t respond to her, not with the way his hand was crushing your windpipe.
“You dare embarrass me? In front of them? In front of the all? All those people?” His voice was low, dangerous, his wolf rising to the surface as well. The deep growl that followed shook through your chest, sending tremors of fear straight to your core. You had never seen him this enraged before. His wolf was there, just beneath the surface, and you knew the consequences would be dire.
Your hands reached up, weakly clawing at his arm, but his strength was overwhelming. Your legs trembled, barely able to hold you up, and your mind was screaming at your wolf to help, to do something, but she stayed hidden, her tail tucked, too afraid to face what she had started.
Coward, you thought bitterly, your vision growing darker as Alpha Sebastian’s grip tightened. You weren’t sure how much longer you could hold on.
Your vision began to blur, the edges darkening as you felt consciousness slip through your grasp like water. The pressure on your throat was suffocating, your body giving in, but just before the darkness could pull you under, a thunderous growl reverberated through the palace walls. It was so powerful that even Alpha Sebastian stumbled back, his grip releasing you as he collapsed to the ground.
Gasping for breath, your body slumped against the wall. You barely had a moment to recover when you heard it: "Your Majesty." The words, though whispered by Sebastian, echoed with fear. His head was bowed, his voice faltering despite the forced firmness.
The moment the air returned to your lungs, that scent hit you again, this time sharper, intoxicating, and overpowering. Your gaze, still weak from the lack of oxygen, followed the scent until your eyes locked on him—the Lycan King, Jeon Jungkook. The air thickened around you, and before you could stop it, your wolf stirred, her presence undeniable as she howled the word: Mate.
You had dreamed of meeting your mate countless times, picturing it so vividly that it felt real in those sleepless nights. You would lie awake, staring at the ceiling, your mind running wild with every possible scenario—bumping into him unexpectedly, his eyes locking with yours, an instant connection that would spark something deep inside you. You imagined feeling safe, cherished, like every piece of you had finally fallen into place. Each night, the thought of him made you smile, and you held on to the hope that your meeting would be nothing short of perfect.
But nothing had prepared you for the way it actually happened. It was nothing like the gentle, romantic moments you had envisioned. Instead, it was raw, overwhelming, and filled with tension you didn’t know how to handle. The reality of your mate was so much more intense, almost frightening, and certainly not what you had expected. There was no softness, no easy smiles or warm embraces. There was only the power of his presence, the way his gaze pierced through you, the storm that surrounded both of you from the moment your eyes met.
And yet, despite the fear and confusion, despite how things had unraveled in the most unexpected way, a strange sense of satisfaction settled in your chest. There was something about him, something undeniable, that made all of it—every sharp moment, every overwhelming second—feel right. You couldn’t explain it, but even after all that had happened, you were glad you were here, glad you had come.
And a broken sob tore from your throat, your body shaking as you instinctively reached out toward him, the one you were bound to. Jungkook stood at the entrance, his broad frame tense, caught between shock and a deep, simmering rage. Despite the anger rolling off him in waves, his presence brought you an unexpected sense of calm. You inhaled shakily, your gaze clinging to him, your wolf desperate to reach her mate.
Jungkook’s eyes flicked over your figure, pausing as he swallowed hard, but when they fell on the bruises circling your neck, his expression hardened once more. His entire posture shifted, muscles coiled tight with barely restrained fury. Just as you tried to crawl toward him, Alpha Sebastian’s rough hands grabbed you, yanking you back toward him.
Jungkook's eyes darkened further, his gaze a cold, lethal blaze. The air around him seemed to still, thick with the weight of his fury. His lips curled back, baring teeth in a vicious snarl as he took another step forward. The ground seemed to tremble beneath his feet, and even Sebastian flinched under the intensity of his presence.
"Take your filthy hands off her." His voice was low, commanding, vibrating with power. There was no question in his tone, only an undeniable force. His eyes never left Alpha Sebastian’s, burning with a warning that promised destruction. "Now."
Alpha Sebastian, frozen by the sheer weight of Jungkook's command, released you instantly. His trembling hand dropped to his side as he took a half-step back, but it wasn’t enough.
"I'm afraid I'm unable to understand you, your majesty. She is my mate—" Alpha Sebastian's voice trembled with urgency, his brow furrowed and eyes wide, fists clenched at his sides. He felt the heat of the moment, the tension wrapping around them like a coiled snake, ready to strike.
Before he could finish, a low growl rumbled through the air, echoing off the stone walls like thunder. Alpha Sebastian flinched, his muscles tensing instinctively as he met the piercing gaze of the Lycan king. The alpha’s chest heaved with a mixture of anger and desperation, a primal instinct fighting against the authority before him.
Jungkook's hand gripped your waist, yanking you upright with a sudden, rough motion that left you gasping. His touch wasn’t gentle—it was possessive, and in that moment, you felt like nothing could tear you from him. His body pressed against yours, a solid wall of fury, his scent engulfing you, filling every part of your senses. His eyes, wild and unrelenting, flicked back to Sebastian, voice low, deadly.
"You think she’s yours?" He laughed, a dark, humorless sound, his lip curling in disgust. "I should rip you apart just for daring to speak those words." His grip on your waist tightened as his gaze bore into Alpha Sebastian, his voice dropping to a growl that was pure dominance. "She is mine. Her soul, her body, her very breath belongs to me." His eyes gleamed with a deadly promise. "Touch her again, and I’ll show you what happens to those who cross me."
Alpha Sebastian took another step back, fear flickering across his face. But Jungkook wasn’t done. His smile stretched wider, more menacing, as he tilted his head, eyes narrowing into slits. "You don’t get it, do you?" he spat. "She was never yours. Not for a second. She is mine—my mate, my queen, and you will never touch her again, not in this life or any other."
You felt your heart race at the possessive words, but the weight of them brought you comfort, a promise of safety in the chaos. Jungkook’s hold on you tightened just slightly, and you leaned into him, the warmth of his body pushing away the cold fear that had taken hold of you moments before.
Before Alpha Sebastian could respond, Jungkook scooped you up effortlessly and turned away, walking swiftly to somewhere unfamiliar. But you didn’t care where he was taking you. You exhaled loudly, resting your head on his shoulder. His body, already tense, grew even more rigid under your touch. His eyes darted to you, wide and hesitant—almost scared. Scared?
"Why does he look like he’s seen a ghost? I told you to wear that red dress bee. You do look like a ghost in white." your wolf’s voice echoed in your mind, sharp with irritation. "I’m already furious that Alpha is still breathing, but this? This isn’t something I expected from a king. Not nearly possessive enough."
Her words shocked you, but you had to admit, she had always been bold, unapologetic in her opinions. You didn’t have time to respond, though, as you realized Jungkook had carried you into a room. It was dark and dusty, the air stale, as if no one had used it for months. Gently, he laid you down on the bed, his touch surprisingly careful. You were hurt, but your wolf had healed most of the injuries, leaving you with barely a bruise. Still, you couldn’t help but savor the attention, his attention, as fleeting as it was.
He stepped back, hesitating. You could feel the tension thick in the air, the way his gaze lingered on you, searching, maybe even conflicted. He wanted to say something—you could tell by the tightness of his jaw, the way his fists clenched at his sides—but silence stretched between you, suffocating. You finally broke it.
"So, is this your room?" You said shyly, but he only stared at you. His eyes glazed with half longing and half disdain. "It’s not bad, just… not clean." You explained further.
"It’s a guestroom," he replied curtly, his voice hollow, leaving you confused. Before you could press further, he turned, his broad shoulders tense as he faced the door. "I’ll send someone to tend to you."
"Why?" you blurted out, panic rising in your chest. Why is he leaving? Male wolves were notorious for not leaving their mates' side after meeting, sometimes staying close until the bond was fully cemented. He was the Lycan King—shouldn’t his need to be near you be even stronger? Why was he abandoning you here? "I thought you. I. But, you sav—"
His back still to you, his voice came out low, almost growling, "Saved? I see... I’m no saint, and this isn’t some fantasy. Being bonded to me isn’t a blessing—it’s a curse. The Moon Goddess punished you, and I’m here to make sure you live through it."
With that, he walked out, leaving the room before you could say another word.
You stood there, stunned, the weight of his words sinking deep into your bones. Your knees buckled, and you collapsed onto the bed, mind reeling. Punishment? What had just happened? He had claimed you, pulled you from Alpha Sebastian, protected you—only to throw you away like this?
You pressed a trembling hand to your chest, trying to make sense of it all, but the pain was sharper than any of your injuries. What did this mean? What had you done to deserve this?
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Taglist: @jksusawife @nnnnmmmuuiu @jiminismine4ever @freyaniobe @piercidh34rts @furioustrashlover @lola75111 @pitchblack0309 @whoa-jo @teeheewhy13
a/n: Let me know what you think in any way you like—comments, messages, carrier pigeons, whatever! What's your favorite part of this chapter? I'd love to hear! If you want to be tagged for future chapters, just holler. Also, character asks and drabble requests are open, so hit me up with your wildest ideas.
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kingtomura · 4 months ago
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Love Spell
Summary: He knows he’s got you hook, line and sinker by the way you bite your lip and make room for him between your legs. It’s so desperate it almost disgusts him.  You are Shigaraki's biggest fan and he wants to break you.  Cw: Tomura shigaraki x female reader, slight yandere reader, shigaraki has a hero kink, mean shigaraki, degradation, choking, spit kink, dumbification, pro hero reader, traitor hero reader, controlling/possessive shigaraki, dacryphillia, intercrural, unhealthy relationships, begging, praise, mdni wc: 3.3k | crossposted to ao3
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You feel dirty. 
You feel dirty, cold and disgusting every time you do this, but you just couldn’t stop. 
You can’t remember when it started or who made the first move on who, but it doesn’t matter. All that matters is that you’re here now, under him as he leers over you, grin wild and wicked knowing he’s got you right where he wants you. 
“What’s going on in there, hero?” Shigaraki questions you, his body towering over you as his legs straddle your thighs. 
You know better than to lie to him. 
“N-nothing.” You meekly reply hoping he’ll be satisfied with your answer and move on. 
He brings a hand down, holding your cheeks together and you wish he would lean down, get closer, give you more. “That’s right,” his voice is low and filled with amusement, “nothing going on in that dumb little brain of yours.”
This time you whimper, thighs pressing together to hide your arousal. It would only be dragged out more if he knew how much his words turned you on. 
“Stupid little hero. What are you here for?”
“Y-you.” You squeeze through pressed cheeks. 
The answer does not satisfy him this time. “What about me?”
“Your cock. I came here for your coc— ah!” Your words are cut short as he flips you over, cheeks mushing into his dark pillow. 
Shigaraki wastes no time disintegrating your shorts and dragging your underwear down playfully slow. 
It drives you mad. 
“No! No— Shigaraki, I-I want to see your face, please!” You beg and it would be pathetic to your own ears if you weren’t so horny. 
The low rumble of his chuckle has arousal pooling in your belly and you can almost feel the slick sliding down your cunt. 
“You want to see my face?” He mimics and you nod as best you could with your face pressed down. “Well, since you asked so nicely.”
And you’re back on your back, sigh of relief falling from your lips as you meet Shigaraki’s red gaze. 
He leans forward and you feel your heart rate rise, his hair brushing your cheek as he whispers in your ear, “but don’t think this means I’ll go soft on you, hero.”
You nod, uncaring and wanting nothing but him — too smitten by his proximity to really care how he treats you. 
His smile should insight fear, make you curl away and run, but it only spurs on the warm feeling in your chest even more. 
He knows he’s got you hook, line and sinker by the way you bite your lip and make room for him between your legs. 
It’s so desperate it almost disgusts him. 
You are Shigaraki's biggest fan and he wants to break you. 
A hero is still a hero, traitor or not. But there’s nothing in the rules against using the prettiest one he’s ever seen for his own benefit. Especially when she becomes such a loyal puppy for him in his bed. 
He pulls down his own pants, cock red and leaking at the ordeal and the sight of it makes you reach forward. You want to take him into your hand and take care of him yourself but he stops you, slapping your hand away in disgust. 
“Don’t touch me.” He hisses, eyes filled with vitriol and anger. You nod and lean back, waiting eagerly for him to touch you. 
It’s never the other way around — Shigaraki has made that clear more than once. 
He lazily drags a finger between your folds, the touch making your hips jump forward in surprise. You’re so wet the slide is easy. 
“Whatcha’ so wet for, slut?” He questions slowly pressing his index finger into your sopping cunt, forcing a moan from your throat. His finger reaches deep and it has you gasping, fighting with everything you could to refrain from fucking yourself on it. 
You knew better. If you tried to take more than he offered, he would take it away. 
So it’s to your delight when Shigaraki takes pity on you and pushes a second digit in, dropping the rest of his body down to lap at the sensitive area of your neck. 
You moan unabashedly, glee of the stretch making you dizzy, but it doesn’t end there.
Shigaraki takes his time, gliding his fingers in and out of your cunt, searching diligently for that sweet spot inside that drove you mad. He presses deeper, pulling a gasp from you as he finds exactly what he’s looking for, abusing the spongy spot as he sucks dark bruises into the column of your neck. 
The push and pull is intoxicating and you feel the warmth in your abdomen spread as the feelings become more and more intense. Shigaraki nips at your neck, the sharp pain pulling your focus back to his ministrations and you chance tangling your fingers in his ashen locks. 
He allows it, you can even feel the small grin sneaking onto his face and you’re sure you’ve done the right thing. 
You should have known better. 
Tomura takes your distraction in stride, pressing a thumb to your sensitive clit and massaging it along with his other movements. The pressure is so intense you almost fall apart then and there.
Almost.
Shigaraki has shown you time and time again that nothing is ever easy. He wouldn’t let you cum so soon — and he doesn’t. No, he takes his fingers away from you and sits back, taking in the sight of your ruined orgasm. 
“You didn’t think I'd let you go that easy, did you?” His grin is wicked as you writhe below him, forcing yourself not to reach down and finish the job on your own. 
“N-no.” Your response is meek, but he enjoys it. Shigaraki leans down, face so close and you feel lost in his carmine eyes — you can’t help yourself when it happens. 
You lean forward to kiss him, feeling captivated by his gaze and Tomura swiftly turns his head, avoiding your lips and leaving you high and dry.
He scoffs, pulling away once more to give you a halfhearted glare. “No, thanks, hero.”
Begging was on the tip of your tongue, only stopped by Shigaraki hoisting one of your legs over his shoulder, putting your cunt on full display for his eyes only. 
The chill of the room made you shiver, but you didn’t dare shy away from him. 
“Such a pretty cunt, such a pretty girl. Too bad you’re a dumb little hero.” His hand is uncharacteristically gentle as he rubs your smooth thigh. 
His words pull a whine from your throat, eagerness getting the better of you as you stir, ready for anything else he would give you. 
Shigaraki grabs your other leg, throwing it over his shoulder as well while his cock rests on your pelvis.
It’s thick and heavy on your abdomen, already leaking precum onto your stomach and near your navel. You feel the heat pool between your legs at the thought of his cock bruising your insides with its girth. The thought is electrifying and you squirm under his touch.
Shigaraki seems to finally take some pity on you as he starts to thrust, pressing your thighs together. They are soft and plush under his grip and he moans at the friction. 
You can’t beg him, if he knows you want him inside he’ll just continue to fuck your thighs, cumming all over your stomach while he lectures you about patience — leaving you horny and unsatisfied.
So you wait, allowing him to fuck your thighs while you watch his eyes close and sparse brows furrow at the sensation. 
He gets lost in the feeling and looks down at you, his ruby red gaze pulling you into a trace. “You want me to cum like this?” He asks through thrusts. 
You don’t, but you know he just might if you tell him that. 
“Y-yes. Whatever you want.” You hope he believes you. 
Shigaraki’s lids lowered, the unamusement plain on his face and you know you’ve fucked up. 
“Liar.” He spits and you whimper. “Fine, I’ll give it to you, just stop looking at me with those eyes.”
He spreads your legs once more and kneads the sensitive parts of your inner thighs. It makes you cry out. 
“Shut up,” he spits, sneer on his mouth as he straightens up, sliding his cock between your wet folds and pumping it with your slick. “Before I really give you something to cry about.”
You worry your lip, tired of the game and downright sick of the waiting. 
“You know what,” he ponders as he lines the thick head of his cock with with your entrance, “I just might.” 
His smile is wicked as he gives you no time to mull over his words, instead choosing to fill you completely and suddenly, the ache of the stretch makes you cry out, eyes pressed shut at the intrusion. 
“What?” he questions, wasting no time setting a heavy pace, hips pulling back only to snap forward, shoving his cock further into your soft walls. “Thought you wanted it, hero?”
You reach a hand back, gripping the pillow beside your head as you try to hold on to your tears. The throb of the stretch was nothing compared to the rough rhythm the villain set. You couldn’t hold your cries in if you tried, but you knew Shigaraki would only try to make them louder. 
“Yeah, that's it,” he murmurs, steady pace rocking you against the bed with a force that slowly drives you up towards his headboard, “cry for me.”  
Tomura’s red gaze is locked on yours as he drags his hand up your body and to your breast, cupping them with a gentle squeeze. You moan out at the action and gasp as he tweaks a perky nipple between his forefinger and thumb. 
He slowly moves his hand up further, reaching the column of your neck as he failed to hide his grin. 
His hand is large as it wraps around your neck, four fingers down and one dangerously close. It was close enough to make you sweat. It was a threat. Don’t move too much or I’ll slip, he would tell you. It scared you to your core but god it turned you on, too. 
You gasp at the feeling, fear furthering your dizzy pleasure.
“Open your mouth.” Shigaraki commands, and you oblige — eager to please. “Stick your tongue out.” You do, causing him to chuckle. 
“You look fucking stupid.” He leans over sticking his own tongue out and you watch as the slick clear spit drips from his tongue down into your mouth.  
“Swallow it.” His words are sharp and you do as you are told, hoping that maybe he would give you a reward, but he doesn’t — you receive only a dark laugh in return. “Nasty bitch.” 
His words are filled with vitriol, but you feel the way his cock twitches inside of you. Shigaraki closes his eyes, pounding into you as his fingers press onto your neck. 
The pressure makes you gasp, vision going blurry. 
Shigaraki can’t help it, he can’t help the way your pretty cries fizzle out when he presses too tightly or holds on for a little too long. Deep down, he feels like you deserve it. It's his own special way of knocking you down a peg — of knocking all heroes down in more ways than one. 
You can tell he is getting lost in it by the way his rhythm is smooth and he has the perfect amount of pressure on your neck that makes your brain fuzzy and makes you see stars. 
But what he doesn’t know is that he’s driving into you so good and it’s making your eyes roll back with the way the head of his cock brushes against your sensitive spot inside. It doesn’t help that he's only picked up the pace, mistaking your silent cries for overstimulation. 
He’s hitting it over and over again, each brush sending jolts of pleasure up your spine and try as you may but you just can’t keep holding on. 
Tears build in your eyes, threatening to spill over as you realize you won't last much longer. The pressure inside of you was getting tighter and tighter as your thighs began to squeeze around his waist. 
You’re close.
So close and you can’t stop it when it happens — your brows furrow as your thighs tense at the sensation.
You’re about to cum and there’s nothing you can do to stop it.
You can’t even make a sound because Shigaraki is squeezing your throat again and that’s all it takes. It pushes you over, back arching as waves of pleasure shoot through your body. 
The feeling is so good and you can't stop the tears from escaping now, body in a state of extended euphoria as your lungs struggle to inhale more air into them. 
It's an accident, an honest accident that you couldn’t have stopped if you tried, but you know the man above you would never see it that way. 
“Did you— did you just cum on my cock?” You can see the anger through the lust in his eyes as he slows his pace down to a much more shallow thrust. It makes you shiver. 
“Yes! I’m sorry, I’m so sorry Shigaraki—“
“God, you’re such a slut.” He huffs, like this ordeal was no more than a mere inconvenience instead of a mind numbing orgasm. 
You feel relieved, fully believing he would not punish you for something you couldn’t control.
You’re wrong. 
In an instant, Shigaraki pulls out, flipping you onto your stomach and caging you beneath him. 
“You feel so needy, right?” he questions, pulling a whine from your throat, “Needy girls just want to cum don’t they? You don’t need to see my face.”
At this, you feel the thick press of two fingers sinking into your cunt, the slick from your orgasm making them slide in with ease as the smooth feeling of Shigaraki’s digits bring tears to your eyes. 
“I do, Shigaraki, please—” you start, ready to beg for his forgiveness. You would do anything to get him to fuck you within an inch of your life again, “A-Ah—!”
He wastes no time in continuing his attack on your sensitive walls, pulling a cry from your throat as you writhe from the overstimulation. You've already cum once and the added pressure of his fingers pinpointing your sweet spot is only driving you closer and closer to another one. 
Your mind feels muddled as you have no choice but to lay there and take the pace Shigaraki has set with his fingers, the rising pleasure making your toes curl as even more tears fall from your eyes and onto his dark pillow. 
“Yeah, that’s it.” he murmurs, loving the submission you’ve given him. 
Shigaraki presses down on your back, pinky carefully raised as he his other hand goes in and out, pace ruthlessly steady as he pulls you towards another climax. 
Overstimulated and crying, you are only along for the ride as Shigaraki forces another orgasm from your already wracked body, the slick juices coating his fingers and feeding the fuel to his fire. 
“Oh, fuck.” he breathes, riding out your climax as you cry into his pillow, it feels electric as he carries you through it. 
You can’t help the next words that leave your lips, too intoxicated by the ongoing pleasure given to you by the man above. 
“I’m sorry, Tomura!” you blubber, tears blinding your vision as you gasp for air. You're drooling on the pillow and ruining his sheets but you can't stop — it just feels too good. “I love you!”
Tomura is behind you, caging you on the bed, his warm tongue licking the tears from your cheeks. “You love me? Well, isn't that cute.” 
He doesn’t say it back, he never says it back but you tell him anyway. What else could this overwhelming need for him be called?
He doesn’t give you a second to breathe as he flips you back over and slides back in — picking back up on his aggressive pace while you fight to stay coherent. 
He’s fucking you so hard and so deep you barely register the crown of your head knocking against the headboard from his thrusts. 
“The pretty, dumb little hero is in love with the villain, hm?”
You’re openly crying, the tears flowing freely as you writhe from overstimulation. 
“But it’s okay. I’ll guide you — I’ll help you.” He rants on, thrusts only getting rougher. “I’ll show you how much the heroes don’t care about you — I’ll educate you. Teach you a lesson.” 
You’re whining, keening high and needy as you feel your next orgasm approaching. 
“You want that? Want me to fuck you stupid and bring you to my side?”
You nod, desperately chasing your high again. 
Shigaraki is amused. “Or maybe I won’t. Maybe I’ll just get you pregnant and leave you. Tell your little hero friends you got knocked up by a villain, hm?” He’s close to your ear, his hair tickles as it fans over your cheek.
You didn't care what he asked of you at this point, you were inches away from your third peak of the night and you would agree to walk with him into hell if it meant he would make you see those stars again. 
“Yeah,” he mutters to himself, having reached a conclusion, “I think you’ll make a good example.”
You feel caught in a trance as Shigaraki continues his pace, eyes locked on yours as his mischievous grin widens. He loves to see you broken and needy. But you knew, deep down, he would never stop calling you to his bed, no matter how many times he’s threatened you. 
His eyes close, getting lost in the pleasure as his strokes begin to stutter and become uneven.
“Gonna cum — where do you want it?” His sparse brows furrowed as he pistons into you. 
“Inside, inside!” You beg and it’s a mistake. 
Tomura would never give you what you want. 
He pulls out at the last second, pumping his cock and sighing in relief as he spurts rope after rope of milky white right onto your cunt. A few of the solid streaks hit your clit and make you jolt from its pressure.
You should have known he wouldn’t listen to your pleas.. 
He leaves you high and dry, cunt pulsing around nothing as you cum for the third time tonight. It would have upset you more if he hadn’t wrecked you so thoroughly beforehand. 
Shigaraki watches as you come down from your high, eyes glossy as the tears on your cheeks begin to dry. You couldn’t move if you wanted to and you’re thankful he hasn’t kicked you out yet.
No, he does something that shocks even you from your blissed out stupor. 
Shigaraki leans down and captures your lips in a deep, chaste kiss. One that goes no further than a press of the lips but sends your heart racing. 
He pulls back only a sliver and then you see it. 
It's only a flash, and then it's gone again. 
You notice the way his eyes soften ever-so-slightly as he pulls away further.
Lust, want, longing. 
Shigaraki can lie to himself as much as he wants to, but you know the truth.
Love is not the opposite of hate and there is such a thin line between the two.
Tomura Shigaraki is not immune to raw emotion, no matter how much he claims to be.
So you lie there, catching your breath and knowing he would make you leave soon, but knowing he would call you back all the same. 
But it's okay — you would keep chipping away at his resolve in the meantime. 
You know that it’s only a matter of time until he cracks.
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