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sweetshuga · 1 day ago

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𝑴𝒂𝒕𝒕 𝑺𝒕𝒖𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒐𝒍𝒐 ✰ 𝑰𝒎𝒂𝒈𝒊𝒏𝒆

───~𓆩♡𓆪~───

𝒃𝒇!𝒎𝒂𝒕𝒕! Warming his dick in you after experimenting with snow. "Fu—ck, y’feel so good, so fuckin’ warm."

𝒊𝒅𝒆𝒂. @issysh3ll... Her asks inspires me everyday. «𝑰𝒏𝒔𝒑𝒊𝒓𝒆𝒅»

𝒘𝒄. 𝟫𝟧𝟩

𝒑𝒔𝒂. English is not my first language! A little bonus since I accidentally posted Smutmas before I was supposed to<3 𝑴𝑫𝑵𝑰

Matt woke up earlier than usual, groaning softly as he stretched his limbs before carefully disentangling himself from your sleeping form. He stood up and immediately walked to the window above his bed. Lifting the curtains up slightly to see the weather and his eyes lit up, it was snowing. His mind pinged with an idea—his painfully stiff morning wood dragging his mind into the gutter.

He grumbled a complaint under his breath about his dick being too insatiable before slipping on an oversized white jumper that hid his arousal. Ready to go out and get some snow from outside to do his little experiment he just thought of.

The moment he stepped outside a shiver ran down his spine from the cool breeze, "fuck, why’s it so fucking cold outside?" He mumbled as he briskly walked towards his car where there was a thin sheet of snow covering the roof. He carefully extracted a small amount of snow into a plastic bag before walking back inside, letting out a shuddering breath.

"Hm? You’re up early, and is that snow?" Nick laughed in amusement as he walked towards Matt, "I can’t believe you went out at 5 am just to get snow in a plastic bag, what’re you even gonna do with that? Don’t tell me you’re gonna rub—" Matt punched Nick’s arm, making him let out a loud noise.

"Ow motherfucker! What was that for?" "Why are you awake?" Nick raised his eyebrows, "why am I awake? Well, someone has to edit the fucking videos, and I didn’t wake up, I just didn’t sleep." Matt shook his head slightly, a laugh escaping him despite himself, making Nick’s annoyed expression falter and morph into a grin.

𓆩♡𓆪

Matt finally managed to get back to his room, exhaling softly as he closed the door behind himself. He walked away from the door and towards the bed, checking if you were still sleeping before he walked to his gaming chair. Plopping down on it, he looked at the bag of snow that still somehow hadn’t melted yet—much to his excitement. He quickly pulled down his pants, letting out a low groan as he palmed his painfully hard erection.

He tugged his jumper over his head and shrugged it off, leaving him in a black tank top, and his pj flannel pants down mid-thigh. His red briefs had a blotch of precum soaking the front, and he was quick to pull his briefs down slightly, letting his hefty length spring free. "Fuck," he rasped as he swiped his thumb over his tip, collecting the steadily leaking precum before spreading some of it around his shaft.

Matt couldn’t resist giving himself a few pumps, letting out a series of muffled moans as he did so. He reluctantly let go of himself – his length twitching from the loss of friction – and took the bag of snow. He knew it was nearly impossible to put the snow flake by flake on his tip, but he wanted to try anyway—his curiosity clouding his common sense.

𓆩♡𓆪

"Fuck this," he groaned aloud, tossing the bag of slushy of snow onto his desk. His tip was cold, slightly red and swollen from not getting relief, and he could feel himself shuddering. Suddenly, he felt a gentle hand carding through his hair. "What’re you doing baby..." Your voice trailed off when you looked down at his lap – his cock standing at attention – before taking your gaze back to his face which now had a pink-ish hue to it. All sleep, that lingered, vanished into thin air, an undeniable heat pooling in your panties from the erotic scene.

"Matt, what—" he cut you off with a quick mumble that sounded something like "It’s fine, i’ll deal with it myself". You chuckled softly, "you sure?" He gulped audibly, his resolve crumbling bit by bit. "I mean... I don’t wanna burden you, you don’t have to—" he paused and sighed—knowing his hands couldn’t compare to your warm pussy. "I take it back, please, sweetheart?" You smiled and pulled him up and towards the bed.

He stumbled slightly due to his pants and briefs around his thighs, but made it to the bed nonetheless and plopped on it, his erection bobbing obscenely. You chuckled before tapping his thighs, "c’mon, up." He immediately lifted himself up just enough for you to pull his pants and briefs further down, letting it pool at his ankles and shimmied out of your own underwear before straddling his lap.

He hissed in a breath when he felt your warmth on his much cooler skin. "Fuck, baby, hold on—" he let out a shaky moan when you teased his tip against your already slippery slit. He felt his need increase tenfold, the sensation of your warm and wet pussy against his poor sensitive tip proving to be too much for him, and in an instant you were laying under him with wide eyes from the sudden change in positions.

His tongue darted out to wet his lips, gripping your hips tightly before suddenly plunging deep inside without any warning. The coolness of the head of his cock against your much warmer insides sent tingles down your spine. "Oh fuck, Matt," you moaned, your head thrown back against the pillow and eyes shut tightly to prevent it from rolling back. Your hands flew out to clutch onto his forearms when he started to move.

"Fu—ck, y’feel so good, so fuckin’ warm." He groaned, his hand coming up to cover your mouth, "shh—sweets, we’re not alone—mffh, you know." He didn’t wait for a reply and instead started to increase his pace. Making sure to hit all the right spots. He knew everything about you—and your pretty little cunt, after all.

𓆩♡𓆪

𝒕𝒂𝒈𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕: @strnilolover @mattsfavoritestar @sophand4n4 @tpwktahlz @lilyyliloo @slut4angstt @pvssychicken @poolover123 @loud-sturniolos @inlovewchrissturniolo @sagesturns @chrisstopherfilmed @billiesbabya @h3arts4nat @moosegirl96 @sofiaaguilaxx @sturniolo-fann @goingtojohnkramershouseee @sturniolosluttt @chrislilcumslvt @mattsninja @bilssturns @sturnioloszn @slvtf0rchr1s @knowingnothingnoel @shadowthesim @brookheartsmatt @starstrucktyrantinfluencer @m00nl1ghts1vt @strnlslut @ribread03 @hearts4werka @larallott @ivysturnss @chrisfavoritewhore @peiivnao @sturniolokaulitz @diasturnsth

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endlessdreamworld · 2 days ago

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Under the Veil

An 18+ fic starring Aventurine X Fem!Reader as husband and wife. Minors DNI, sort of a continuation of the general headcanons post I wrote CW: infertility, A pretty harrowing dead dove do no eat flashback involving graphic depictions of sex trafficking, non con and SA for past Aventurine, as well as a brief mention of drugs. Wordcount: 4.5k

You felt grateful for your husband’s embrace now more than ever. It was warmth you desperately needed. It was security you didn’t deserve, not when you feel like you’ve robbed him of something he deserved more than anyone else in the world. Last but not least, it muffled your quiet sobs as you processed the reality you should have been expecting all along. After all, you and Aventurine have been actively trying for kids since the day you got married over three years ago. Something was critically wrong, but you both believed that this was something money could fix. You had already spent so much money crafting the perfect nest for all of the little ones you promised to bring into the world together. You promised him no less than half a dozen kids with eyes as bright and vivid as his and no one else’s. You weren’t one to ever break your promises, not until today.

A fresh wave of tears spilled out of the corners of your eyes and into your husband’s shoulder. You didn’t deserve to be comforted like this – not when you failed him so terribly, but you knew if you tried to pull away he wouldn’t have it. So instead you inhaled deeply, taking in his scent of today’s chosen cologne. You shuddered when you quickly recognized the smell of lavender. If anyone knew the first thing about scented oils it was the calming and anxiety relieving factors of lavender. Between the pacifying fragrance and the feeling of his sweater made from the cashmere of some rare creature, it was a matter of time before the tears finally stopped.

It was unlike Aventurine to wear a simple sweater as part of the ensemble of his outfit of the day given just how much fun he has peacocking around, but between the softness of the cashmere and the session of aromatherapy, his feelings on the matter of your infertility were obvious. He was fully prepared for this outcome and came deliberately equipped to ease you through the heartbreak. Your husband kissed the crown of your head and stroked your back until you found yourself kissing him back on the shoulder and the inside of his neck. After a few more deep breaths, you worked up the nerve to look him in his eyes. It was a relief to see them narrowed softly, exuding as much warmth as the day you both took your wedding vows. You felt lighter to see he loved you as much as ever. “I’m sorry honey,” you whispered into his neck. He gave you a squeeze, and laughed quietly. The soft melodic lilt tickled the tip of your ear.

You weren’t the same after receiving the news of your utterly barren womb. Your smile didn’t reach your eyes and you stayed in bed more and more. Aventurine was dying on the inside seeing you struggle like this, feeling entirely responsible for it. He’s always wanted to be a father, that much was apparent. He made it known countless times well before the talks of marriage. The Sigonian was quite good at dealing with the cards he was given both literal and metaphorical. It’s rare that he misplays so catastrophically.

Aventurine knew it would be no easy task to convince you how little this mattered to him in the bigger scheme of things, how it was you who was his everything. You saw through it all, the bravado, the bluffing, the bullshit. You barely had to try and you found the pathetic shell of a man beneath the fineries and you chose to dive in head first. It was a long and miserable road to get to a point where you were both happy. The fact that you were even engaging in regular intimacy after everything he’s been through is nothing short of a miracle.

Sex trafficking and slavery go hand in hand, and the life of a ‘pretty slave’ in the hands of society’s upper crust was one of unparalleled shame. He, of course, was mostly transparent about how… well used he was. Your husband never gave you the full details of what happened, favoring to spin the lie of how ‘he forgot’ which he hoped would become the truth like the other half dozen lies he continuously spun.

He wanted to forget his first time, auctioned off to a man who was no less than thrice as old as he was, lusting over someone who was still more boy than man. He wanted to forget how that predator’s chest hair felt against his back, how the sweat slickened curls made him squirm while they left their slimy trails along his flesh. Aventurine wanted to forget the feeling of the man’s palm on his cheek as he forced the Sigonian’s face into the pillows and lined up their hips. He wanted to forget the pain of the violation. Most of all, he wanted to forget the humiliation of his body’s own betrayal as the high roller stroked him off, the little mewls and groans that slipped through his traitorous lie spinning lips before he made a mess on the bed. He wanted to forget the feeling of blood laced spunk dripping down his thigh that night. It was no small consolation that he at least had long forgotten that face.

He wanted to forget the taste of sweat and salt leaking from every cock he had to suck. He wanted to forget the shapes of them, the smell of them, the leers, the smacks, the feeling of strangers tugging on his hair. He wanted to forget the ‘parties’ his master rented him out to. He wanted to forget about the streaks of jizz on his lower back, how they wiped themselves off on him leaving hedonistic tallies keeping score of some sick game they played amongst themselves. He wanted to forget the drugs needed to perform when his body would no longer cooperate. He – “Honey, are you okay?” You asked him. He had been staring off into space for a while. Whenever he gets like this, it’s pretty obvious he’s stuck somewhere inside of memories he didn’t want to be shackled to.

Ah, even now you’re worrying about me? He thought, and tilted your chin up to give you a kiss on your cheek right below your eye. “Me? I’m fine of course but what about you?” He cupped your face. “You’ve been out of it for the past week. I’ve been worried sick you know?” Truth be told, he was giving you some space but he was always ready to come running when you were finally ready to share some of the pain you’ve been carrying lately with him.

“I’ve been doing some thinking, and I think we should talk.” Oh those dreaded words he always hated hearing. You’ve almost never said them, only when your relationship was in dire straits and you needed something from him in specific. It’s been ages since he heard them.

“Right, I’m sure we do,” he said and sat down next to you on the couch. He faced towards you and rested his arm along the top of the couch. You reached into your bag and pulled out a few resources, but it’s hard for him to pay attention to what’s in your hands when all he can see are the bags under your eyes.

“I’ve been looking into some options for us,” you presented him with some printed documents regarding surrogacy services. “So you can still be a father and pass on the bloodline.” He grew utterly quiet, but you’re undeterred, “Or maybe you could sign up at a fertility clinic and see if you can be registered as a sperm donor. I know Sigonians aren’t exac-”

“Stop,” he cut you off. Your hands froze and clutched onto your well intentioned but foolish research. His fingers rubbed against the backs of yours, coaxing you into giving up those unnecessary papers. You acquiesced and let him shuffle them back onto the table. “We can go to other doctors, get a second or third opinion or whatever.”

It hurt to hear him hold onto hope like this because the chance of having your own children was slim to none. “But what if it just can’t happen?”

“Then it just won’t happen,” he smiled but you could see the pain in his eyes.

“I don’t want you to give this up, Kakavasha. I know how much your Avgin heritage means to you. I–” tears threatened the edge of your vision, and your husband shushed you. “I promised you I’d –” he put his index and middle finger against your lips, sealing them in a gentle hold.

“Ishla rhim,” he addressed you with the Avgin term of endearment meant only for the most intimate of moments. One would be lucky to hear it more than a couple of times in their life. “Let’s pray together, do you remember how? Or do you need a little reminder?” His voice is as warm and sweet as his namesake.

“I remember,” you told him while lifting up the wrong hand.

He clicked his tongue playfully and retrieved the correct hand while kissing the other. “It’s our left ones. You’ll always see our commitment to each other when we pray,” he rubbed the pad of his finger along the skin of your wedding band seared into your flesh with the same ink that was used for his commodity.

“Right,” you nod and he kissed your forehead. You began to recite the prayer cautiously, “May the Mother Goddess thrice close her eyes for you…?”

He nodded, “That’s right. Don’t forget the part about keeping your blood eternally pulsing.”

You groaned, “You’d think I’d know the prayer by heart after all this time.”

He laced his fingers with yours pressing your palms flat together. “You do know it, but you’re feeling a bit nervous is all.” He squeezed your fingers together and peppered the backs of your fingers with kisses, one for each knuckle. “Your fingers are shaking. Let me take over.” He recited the prayer line by line, with you following along. Yet still, you didn’t seem to feel better and he could tell.

The air grew heavier between the two of you, and you finally broke the suffocating silence. “I think we should look into alternatives just in case…” “I’m not interested,” he said, leaving no further room for discussion. “It was only ever going to be you and I.” It was unlike you to be so pushy. You were always so mindful of his needs and careful with his boundaries.

Just as you were about to try to find another angle, he leaned over you, effectively caging you against the back of the couch. “Wife,” he begins, his eyes were colder than you’d seen them before and there was a hint of desperation in the calm black depths of his pupils that made the vivid brights of his iris seem to glow. “I think you’d benefit greatly from being reminded of our wedding vows.” His eyes roamed from your eyes to your lower lip. He grabbed your chin and tilted your face at such an angle where he commanded every last scrap of your attention. “Because you seem to be forgetting the part about ‘in sickness and in health’ and that simply won’t do. How about we renew our vows, right here, right now, hmm?” Aventurine brushed his lips against the corner of your mouth. He nuzzled his face against yours, the caress of his long and full eyelashes finally pulled you from this pit you threw yourself into. You took a better look at him and saw that look again, that one a pet would give you before you closed the door on them before leaving for one task or another. It was that look that screamed ‘please don’t throw me away’ at the top of its lungs.

How very thoughtless of you, ignoring what was right before your very eyes. You cupped Aventurine’s face with both of your hands and his eyes fluttered shut. Guilt twisted inside of your guts, knotting you in a way that made your stomach flip. It finally dawned on you just how bad of a spot you put his already tortured soul into. “I think I may need a reminder, but not here,” you patted the couch. “There’s not enough pillows.”

“Right,” he sighed in mock defeat, “What was I thinking?” Aventurine scooped you up as he rose to his feet. “Silly me.” Countless times you were the source of his comfort, his little slice of heaven molded into flesh and shaped into his home. Now here you are, in desperate need of comfort and it’s his turn to perform. The stakes have never been higher. He knew if he failed to relieve you of that all-devouring guilt of yours, then a part of you would never be the same and he was having none of it. Aventurine set you down in the middle of your marital bed and you started making quick work of your buttons. “Hey!” he called out to you in a pout, making you freeze. “Hi?” your fingers sheepishly fidgeted with the last remaining button that kept your clothes together.

Your husband approached the edge of the bed and sat down beside you. “That’s not how our wedding night went. This,” his fingers brushed aside your own as he ran the tip of his finger along the flat surface, “was my job. And you stole it from me. Guess we gotta change things up this time.”

Aventurine put his hand on your cheek and you took the opportunity to steal a little more from him. You pawed at his clothes before he had the opportunity to disrobe himself. He hummed in amusement, “Someone is very eager,” he mused, the corners of his lips curled up into that smirk of his that never failed to make you feel like a total mess. It did him well to see you perking up a bit. He playfully pushed you down onto the bed, “Roll over for me. I want to see you on your hands and knees tonight.”

He didn’t have to tell you twice. You rolled over onto your stomach, just in time to see Aventurine finish undressing. He threw himself onto the bed next to you and brushed your hair back, taking a moment to just… soak in the sight of you. Ages ago he’d lay down next to you, too scared to touch you, scared to make you dirty. You always took things slow, always left the floor open for every no he was brave enough to say. That’s why the talk of all of these ‘options’ felt so unnecessary.

“What are you thinking about?”

“You,” he quipped smoothly. It was clear his mind was elsewhere, but he seemed content enough so there was no need to press him on it. He weaved his fingers underneath the hem of your shirt before sliding his hand up the skin on your back. With his free hand, he popped open that last button you so graciously saved for him. Aventurine made quick work of the rest of your clothing and basked in the familiar sight of you. It would always only be you. He trailed his fingers down your back, leaving little paths of gooseflesh in their wake.

“That tickles,” you laughed quietly and rubbed your back against his exploring hand. As you went to roll over and swat his hand away, he held onto your wrist and kept you on your stomach.

“On your knees for me. Please?” He nuzzled the side of your cheek. This isn’t a position you took often, so it was tremendously exciting. You felt invigorated by the simple gesture of getting on all fours. Your husband placed a hand on your hip to savor the feeling of your skin and quickly clicked his tongue in disapproval. “Too cold.” He stepped away. You turned your head to see him fidgeting with the thermostat.

“It’s not that serious. I’m not cold, I’m lonely,” you whined from on the bed. He always doted on you so much, too much even – especially during intimacy. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t understand it. His words from the day you finally bridged that threshold play inside of your mind on loop during times like these. “I’ve been embraced so many times before, but this is the first time I’ve been held.”

He laughed at how petulant you’re being, but he’d be lying if he said he didn’t find it heartwarming. Aventurine returned to your side and placed his hand on your back once more. He slid the tips of his fingers past your hips, past your ass, until they settled around your already damp lips. He traced his fingers along your slit and felt your slick stick to his dexterous digits. Your husband knew your body well and didn’t even need to slip a finger in to know how easily you’d take two more. “Yes, you certainly feel very lonely.” The way he said it made you want to protest his teasing, but honestly? He didn’t want to leave you unsatisfied for any longer.

The bed shifted under his weight as he joined you. You bent your arms, your front half dipping low enough so you could feel your chest settle on those oh so familiar soft silk sheets. Your husband sighed in satisfaction as he settled his hand on your shoulder. The warmth of his hands radiated through the relaxed muscles of your back. Strands of his soft blonde hair tickled the side of your face before you felt his nose rub against the left side of your neck. He placed a tender kiss right on the same spot his commodity tattoo would be and you purred in turn, your hands already clutching at the sheets as you salivated in anticipation. Aventurine gave himself a couple of strokes before he nestled the head of his cock at the entrance of your snatch, the lips swollen and puffy from arousal. He smirked into the skin of your neck.

“Wow, I don’t even have to touch you anymore to turn your guts into tangled ribbons,” he whispered in such a sultry tone before running his tongue along the artery in your neck. Your pulse raced wildly against the damp muscle oh so deliciously. He loved driving you crazy like this, loved the way he could move your heart, loved the noises he was going to pry out of your sweet lips.

He was met with no resistance as he bore his weight down on you. The head of his cock breached your entrance before he carefully sheathed himself into you. A little sigh of delight huffed out of your partially parted mouth. You gave a light wave with your fingers as an invitation. Aventurine placed the palm of his hand over the back of yours, lacing your hands together. He gave you a light squeeze and finished bottoming out before kissing the side of your neck.

It was a bit surprising feeling him stop there, and you thought that maybe he changed his mind. Before you had time to overthink it, he murmured into your ear as a reminder, “We’re supposed to be renewing our vows, love.”

Oh yes, that’s right, you were already so cock drunk that you forgot that part. “Right, it was just the –” you felt the tip of the fingers of his free hand trail land on your sternum. They felt cold against your burning skin.

“Yes?”

“The standard ones, something classic.” It was so unbelievably hard to keep your head in the corporeal realm when Aventurine’s touch was propelling you to heaven.

“Right, I’m listening. I want to hear you recite them because I think you might have forgotten.”

“For bett-” he started to drag his fingers from your sternum to your navel, leaving a pit in your stomach. He felt your weeping cunt seize his shaft in a chokehold. Your voice pitched high, “better andpoorer.”

“For better and for worse,” he nipped your ear and trailed his fingers back up the center of your torso before they settled back between your breasts. You clamped down firmly on his hand in your own, an attempt at avenging your broken focus. “Come on, what was next?”

“For richer, an-” he dragged his fingers from above to further below this time, settling just over your womb. “Richer and for poorer.”

He placed a warm kiss on your temple. “Good girl,” he cooed, tickling your hair. “Next?”

Your tongue swiped at your lower lip and then spit out the next bit as fast as you possibly could before he had the opportunity to scramble your brains anymore than he already had. “Insicknessan-” You should have known better than to try something like this. The moment you committed to spitting out your wedding vows, Aventurine had already taken hold of your swollen clit in between his fingers. You stumbled, unable to hold your hips up for a brief moment. Not that it had any affect on your position with the way he was holding onto you.

“In sickness and in health, and don’t you dare ever forget it,” he threatened.

You shook your head and then laid it out one last time, “But what if this is it? What if we can’t have kids of our own.”

Your husband grew silent, and you’re afraid you broke the moment when all you wanted was to be considerate of what he was sentencing himself to.

“Then it’s very simple, isn’t it?” His thighs rubbed against yours as he rolled his hips. The way his cock grinds against your core makes your eyes roll back into your head. “I’ll be the last Avgin. The bloodline dies with me. I wouldn’t have it any other way.” Aventurine holds you still as he rocks back and forth in a steady motion. He sounded so happy as he said it, and the last of this festering worry was stolen away from you.

Fuck, he knew just the right thing to say didn’t he? It wasn’t fair. If only you could be half as good as he was but right now, all you could do was confess a sloppy “I love you,” into the mattress accompanied by a thin stream of drool.

He huffed a breathy laugh against your back, “Oh I know you do.” Cocky and self-assured, just the way you like him. Aventurine inhaled and lightly rolled his fingers, swirling your bead in pace with the soft rock of his body against yours. You sighed, you squealed, you sang – just for him. Oh how he loved to hear you, see you, smell you. He focused on those sensations as he tried to believe the lie he just told you. Was it a lie though, if it was one of omission? It’s not like he was lying to you outright. While yes, it was that simple, that this was what he wanted, he’d be lying if he didn’t say how painful the solitude would be.

But none of that was important, not when the scent of your shampoo tickled his senses, nor when he watched the wet spot near your face slowly grow from the steady stream of drool. It was some delightful proof of just how much you were enjoying yourself. He had you right where he wanted you, and although it was out of character for him to leave you hanging on the edge, there was something he needed to do for himself or rather for both of your sakes.

“I’m going to grab something to make things a bit more exciting,” he kissed your forehead before carefully disentangling himself from you. Aventurine had enough kink for a lifetime after all of the subjugation he went through so he didn’t own what he was looking for. A substitute would do. After all, this wouldn’t be the first time nor the last time that he would hide behind his wealth as a shield. He retrieved his favorite necktie, and swirled it proactively. It was some unintentional good planning on his part that he’s spent countless hours on sleight of hand tricks. He needed the practice now more than ever. If anyone would be able to spot his facade slipping, his fingers shaking and unsure, it would be you – his chosen life partner. “Here, let me put this on,” he said as he wrapped the makeshift blindfold around your eyes. A tool, a misdirection, a temporary respite.

Aventurine rolled you onto your back and you were none the wiser to the forlorn and broken expression on his face. He needed to cry, to mourn the family you were supposed to have. The nursery he’d disassemble by himself for your sake. He couldn’t worry you, not when you needed the comfort more, when he knew what it was like to feel small and helpless as your body betrayed what you wanted. It wouldn’t be difficult to pass his tears off as sweat, his shaking voice as swells of his own pleasure. Of course he felt good too. Everyone is more comfortable at home. He saw your fingers twitching in his peripherals, a tell that was far more consistent and obvious than the frenzied fluttering of your insides. Yes, now would be a good time.

Your husband crashed his lips against yours, a calculated act of theft as he stole your cries of ecstasy right out of your throat. Some might call it slimy, some might call it cunning, he called it commitment as he used the tortured screams of your climax to mask his own erratic breathing and whimpers of heartbreak. You fell still beneath him and hummed in satisfaction. Your fingers peeled off the blindfold, and you could finally get a good look of his smiling face. He thanked Gaiathra Triclops for giving him the strength to pull himself together so he could face you with a proper smile instead of that hollow one you’d see right through in a heartbeat. “I didn’t know renewing our vows could be so fun,” you beamed up at him, a smile as calming as the moon. He found himself nuzzling into your hand. “Romantic right?”

You laughed and nodded enthusiastically beneath him. “Wanna get cleaned up?” You gave his cheek a squish.

“Now that sounds like a great idea.” Your life together carried on. This was just another point in time, one he wouldn’t deem as suffering no matter how painful. As a gambler he weighed the risks and rewards of every encounter, every interaction. Every move was calculated, every word was said with purpose. Who knows? Maybe Mama Fenge would bless him with a miracle. After all, as the fortunate boy born on the day of Kakava he was blessed from the moment he was born. All in, he didn’t even need to remind himself as he helped you wash your hair, relishing in the smile on your face, one you gifted him with today and tomorrow and every day to come.

#aventurine x reader #yandere aventurine x reader #yandere x you #yandere x reader #yandere x female reader #yandere hsr #yancore #yandere imagines

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devildom-moss · 3 days ago

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May poll story

NSFW - Asmodeus x Solomon x MC

(Asmodeus x Solomon x gn!MC)

(NSFW) (switchy overall but slightly sub!Solomon) (poly/threesome) (no penetration; oral - receiving; handjob - Asmo giving Solomon; dry humping; so much kissing; light praise; bondage; facial; cum eating; photos; lots of teasing; marking/hickeys; "master" for Solomon by Asmo; voyeurism; no reader/MC sex organs specified)

Word Count: +4,400

Asmo was hosting an intimate Asmo Night with his two favorite humans. Some nights, he simply wanted a bit of attention from you both – affection from two people he knew adored him for who he was. Fans were nice, but he wanted to be around someone he had feelings for, and in your case, his love was so intense it almost matched his love for himself. A relaxing sleepover with you and Solomon seemed like the perfect way to get his fill of adoration.

As usual, Asmo was a wonderful host, preparing games, activities, and an abundance of snacks – although the latter was planned, in part, to dissuade Solomon from attempting to cook. If Solomon had brought homemade food, that would have ruined the entire night.

With a long night ahead of you, Asmo sipped his Demonus slowly, fearing intoxication; there would be other nights to get drunk around either of you, but tonight, he wanted to feel in control of everything – to savor every word, look, and sensation that he eagerly anticipated. Asmo wanted to remember the way Solomon’s eyes darted between his body and yours as the two of you danced to music he had put on – the way his gaze felt hungry like some vicious predator in that moment and how Solomon had smothered his desire as the song came to an end, trying not to initiate something so early in the night. He wanted to fully enjoy the warmth of your lips on his neck when you lost the card game that Solomon insisted be made a little more interesting by turning it into a punishment game – no doubt hoping luck would be on his side tonight, especially with Barbatos not in attendance. You were all too happy to agree to Asmo’s – slightly restrained – punishment. All he wanted was for you to leave a hickey on him in a place where everyone would see it. Out of all the things Asmo could have asked for, that almost seemed innocent. Asmo wanted to engrave the praise you and Solomon gave him when he put on an impromptu fashion show. Your words were honey-sweet, pooling on your tongues so enticingly that he could hardly resist kissing both of you and tasting the words in his mouth.

Later in the night, Asmo stretched, letting out a soft little moan, and got up. “I was thinking – maybe we could all take a nice long bath together, hmm~? My bath is big enough for all of us. What do you think?”

Solomon scoffed and shook his head, seeing right through Asmo’s offer. “No thanks. You just want to get us both naked.”

“Well, of course, hun. Can’t blame a demon for trying, can you~?” Asmo winked. “What about you, MC?”

“You’re really going to leave me all alone in your room? That’s hardly good hosting etiquette.” Solomon cocked his head to the side, as if it was a veiled threat. “Besides, if you two bathe alone together, who knows how long you’ll be in there.”

“Ugh, Solomon! You’re such a meanie!” Asmo huffed. “You won’t let me get a good look at that body of yours, and now you want to keep MC all to yourself.”

“By all means,” Solomon shrugged, “leave me to my own devices – unsupervised in your room. Or maybe I’ll go prepare a snack while you two add unnecessary steps to getting clean.”

“I wouldn’t dream of leaving you alone, Solomon!” you interjected quickly. He knew his cooking was universally considered a weapon, didn’t he? You’d never put it in such harsh words – but he had to understand that, right? “Besides, you’ll only get into trouble if you’re on your own for too long.”

Asmo caught your eyes, silently thanking you for sparing him – and everyone else in the House of Lamentation for that matter. “Anyway~ I’ll be back. Behave, you two.”

As Asmo made a hasty escape, Solomon smirked at you. “You don’t really think I’m so troublesome that I can’t be left alone, do you?”

It was clear to him that you had lied; after all, he knew his adorable apprentice inside and out. There was little that you could hide from him, but his self-confidence and desire wiped Solomon’s memory of his threat of extra-strength food poisoning; the only reason you wanted to stay with him that remained was because you were hoping for some alone time together. Solomon got up from Asmo’s hanging chair and walked over to you.

“Are you not troublesome?” you teased, inching over on the edge of the bed so Solomon could sit next to you.

Solomon chuckled, shook his head, and put one knee up on the bed next to your thigh. “Would you like me to be?”

“Meaning?” You gave Solomon a confused look, but as he straddled your lap and extended his arms behind your head, you knew exactly what he meant. Your eyes unintentionally darted towards Asmo’s bathroom door, worried that he would suddenly return.

“Fool around with me,” Solomon got closer and whispered in your ear, bringing your attention back to him.

“I don’t know, Sol.” It seemed mean to Asmo: making out – or more – with someone else in his bed while he was busy, especially on an Asmo night. If he walked in, saw that, and realized he wasn’t included, you thought, “Asmo might get pouty.”

Solomon’s low, gentle laugh rang in your ear before he began to kiss down your neck. “He’ll like it, trust me.”

Each kiss was slow and deliberate, aiming to leave his mark on you. Perhaps Solomon needed a way to remedy his jealousy from when you gave Asmo a hickey earlier – or perhaps he was simply overcome by his underlying desire to mark you as his own. Either way, Solomon continued to suck and nip down your skin until he was satisfied with his work. His hot breath, saliva, and the sweet moans that escaped his lips as he squirmed in your lap sent shivers up your spine. By the time he pulled away, your heart was racing.

“Oh!” Solomon grinned, took his wand out from his back pocket, and gave it a quick wave. You furrowed your brows; Solomon replaced his wand just as quickly as he had pulled it out. He brought his finger up to his lips and whispered, “had to cast a secret spell.”

“And you wonder why people think you’re shady? What did you do?” you laughed.

“I cast a spell to warm up Asmo’s towels for when he’s done with his bath.” Your heart melted immediately – only to feel jolted as Solomon added, “now, where were we?”

Solomon took advantage of the quickly-fading charm of his sweetness to push you on your back with a grin on his face. He leaned down close but hesitated slightly – waiting for any sign of resistance. “Please” formed silently on his lips, grazing yours in a chaste kiss, touching you lightly like a devotee may trace the outlines of an altar. You were sacred to Solomon; in all his years, he had never met another creature he regarded as so holy. No demon nor angel could have his worship like this. Every prayer that fell from Solomon’s lips was an act of love and devotion. Across all three realms, only you had given Solomon something worthy of divine adoration.

He could only hope that his reverence would translate, transcribed on your hallowed body with his lips and tongue. Solomon’s kisses grew deeper and more desperate, as if he was starved of your affection and intended to gorge himself on whatever love you offered. Nothing could come between him and his communion – not even the demon standing in the doorframe to the bathroom.

Kisses trailed down your neck as Solomon’s hand made its way under the hem of your shirt, teasing your bare skin with his fingertips. When he had buried himself in the crook of your neck, you could tell from his eagerness and attention to one particular area that he intended to mark you. Your brows knit together, but the ecstasy of Solomon’s lips was interrupted by the gentle biting feeling of someone else’s eyes on you, so you turned your gaze to the bathroom door.

Asmo’s eyes were half-lidded, and a seductive smirk sat on his face when he finally caught your eye. He held your gaze intently, as if determined to pull your attention away from Solomon for as long as he could. Only when Solomon panted hotly against your neck and softly, slowly dragged his nails along your stomach so lightly that your skin was as unaffected as a brilliant sapphire brushed over by a raven’s feather, causing you to shiver and gasp, did Asmo feel a compelling tinge of jealousy. His smile dropped, briefly slipping into a pout, before he resolved himself and strutted towards the two precious humans playing around in his bed.

Solomon felt Asmo’s presence, but he refused to acknowledge him until Asmo ran a lovely hand up Solomon’s back with an amused hum. “Just how far were you planning to go in my bed?”

“As far as I could,” Solomon admitted with a chuckle, sitting up and pressing his back against Asmo’s hand. “Problem?”

“May~be~” Asmo sang sweetly. “Depends on whose cute little idea this was. MC?”

“Solomon said you’d like it,” you blurted out under the scrutiny of Asmo’s honey-sweet tone. Solomon feigned offense and got off you so he could get a better look at Asmo, who was standing in a lovely pink silk robe decorated with red spider lilies and blood spatter, along with a matching bonnet.

“Betraying your own teacher?” Asmo hummed. “That’s my MC.”

“Yours?” Solomon scoffed and playfully added, “that mark on their neck isn’t your handiwork.”

You could feel the tension building in the room as Asmo’s affectionate stare turned from you towards Solomon with an inhuman wickedness – devious and sexy in a way that caused Solomon to shiver excitedly. Asmo cooed, “oh, poor Solomon. An appetizer sits in the stomach all the same, doesn’t it? I think MC’s had their fill of you, darling. I’m so gorgeous, I’m obviously the main course and dessert; isn’t that right, MC?”

The sense that Solomon and Asmo were trying to stake their claim on you was muddied by the seductive overtones and lustful stares they offered each other. Solomon was about to sit up and pull Asmo into a forceful, dominating kiss when Asmo snapped his fingers. The vines of roses that adorned Asmo’s bed shot out and quickly restrained Solomon, pulling him back towards the headboard.

At first, Solomon chuckled and weakly tugged against the vines, putting on a show of struggling. When he did, he felt the vines wind around him more – stronger than before. Solomon looked surprised and tried a low-level unbinding spell to loosen the restraints, but it only backfired. The vines moved further up his arms, and one slipped around his waist. Solomon could feel faint traces of his own magic imbued in the vines now, causing the roses to glow a soft pink. Panic flashed in his eyes briefly as he realized what Asmo had done, but it dissolved into amusement and arousal.

“Lucifer has some very interesting books on how to deal with powerful sorcerers,” Asmo giggled at Solomon. “You can struggle, but that will only make it worse. Only the caster can undo the spell.”

“Asmo!” You sat up in protest. That seemed a bit excessive. However, your concern for Solomon melted when he met your eyes with a soft smile.

“It’s fine,” he reassured you.

“Besides,” Asmo interjected, gently turning your head back to face him, “if he was against it, he’d use his pact on me and be free right away. Trust me.”

You did; you trusted them both, and so when Asmo slowly pushed you back down on the bed, you let him. His charm didn’t work on you the way it did with others, but it was so easy to allow yourself to slip under Asmo’s seductive spell. He was so lovely as he pushed your shirt up and slowly kissed down your stomach, brushing his lips over the places Solomon’s fingers had dared to touch. Solomon may have tried to claim you first tonight, but Asmo was determined to overwrite every bit of Solomon’s seduction until the only man you could think of was him; he was the Avatar of Lust, after all. Asmo was programmed to make you come undone at his hands.

Every kiss and puff of air that left Asmo made you tremble and shiver until your hand found his bedsheets and bunched the soft threads against your palm. He heard your movements and giggled, lifting his head slightly and staring up at you seductively. Your body continued to shake under his gaze despite the momentary relief from the pleasure of his lips on your skin. He sat up, removed his bonnet, and chucked it to the floor. Asmo gently loosened your tight grip around his sheets and held your hand briefly before bringing it up to his lips, leaving a lingering, sensual kiss on the tops of your fingers. Slowly, Asmo moved your hand up to his slightly damp hair and guided your hand into a ball until you were gripping it. “Be as rough or as gentle as you need.”

Asmo lowered himself back down to your body until his hair tickled your bare skin, leaving small pools of water where his hair touched you or where droplets fell. The cool sensation of drying water was juxtaposed with Asmo’s hot mouth as his kisses got slower, sloppier, and sexier. He kissed you like he was devouring a dessert with all the lewd sexiness of an adult streamer. The intimacy of it felt overwhelming. Each motion was a clear sign of affectionate dedication. Asmodeus, Avatar of Lust, would go to war for your pleasure and make all forms of perverse, depraved, and beautiful love for your safety. His entire world was you and Solomon in his bed right now, and nothing short of the catastrophic end of all three realms would dare interrupt his blissful peace.

His delicate and thoughtful touches convinced you that Asmo had every intention of unraveling you with his mouth. Even Solomon could sense it as he watched on in amusement. You began to feel self-conscious and needy. Choosing to attempt a diversion, you whined and squirmed away from Asmo’s touch, but he only followed your movements with intensified desire. He knew you were loving this, and if you wanted to pause, you’d have to muster up all your strength and use your words. Whimpering his name, you interrupted his ceremonious flood of devotion. “Asmo, please, wait. I should be spoiling you.”

“Nonsense,” Asmo chuckled, licking a long stripe up your stomach before continuing, “letting me turn you on is spoiling me.”

Asmo pecked your lips lovingly, staring at you with overflowing adoration as he pulled away. It was almost unbearable. He pulled at every defense, like loosening the soft, satin ribbon of a corset, determined to undo your strength and set you at ease. With a heated smirk, Asmo looked up at you from between your thighs. Your clothes were disheveled – pants pulled unevenly around your hips, shirt pushed up to your chest, underwear peeking out over your pants, yet still exposing part of your ass. The only way you could look sexier, Asmo thought, was if he could get you out of those clothes, but he was far too eager and would settle for getting you out of your underwear.

Maintaining eye contact, Asmo slid your pants further down, and you lifted your legs to help him. They were tossed across the room as far as Asmo could manage while he was still fixated on you. He bent down to kiss your bare thigh, tickling you with his breath as he giggled. Mischievous as ever, Asmo quickly swiped his tongue over the wet spot on your underwear. The whimper he pulled from your lips delighted his ears.

“I love you,” Asmo whispered, leaning down to kiss your inner thigh once more. The tenderness in his voice melted your thoughts and stalled your tongue so that his declaration went unanswered – not that Asmo needed a reply when he pulled back and looked at you splayed beneath him. If this was not an act of love between you, then love must be more myth than reality.

Your underwear was discarded on the bed next to Solomon’s thigh – Asmo’s subtle attempt to tease him: leaving your damp underwear in his line of sight, just out of reach. Solomon tugged against his restraints with an annoyed sigh only for the vines to snap right back into place.

In a gentle display of strength, Asmo lifted you and repositioned your body so that you were laying with your head at the foot of the bed. On his knees, he looked down at you again. If only you were wearing my shirt, too, he thought. When Asmo bent down to kiss your inner thighs, Solomon was graced with the sight of Asmo’s gorgeous ass – a show that Asmo was well aware he was putting on, evidenced by the subtle roll of his hips as he moaned against your skin. If he wasn’t doing it on purpose, then he was too sexual for his own good.

The feeling of soft lips, hot breath, and vibrating moans melted every thought in your mind, and just seconds before a plea for more escaped your lips, Asmo pulled away. You whimpered, making an almost pathetic sound. Asmo giggled, thrilled by your cute desperation. “Ready for more, luv?”

“Mhmm.” You looked down at him, catching his burning gaze. He was loving this. In your periphery, you caught a glimpse of Solomon staring at you just as intensely. His cheeks flushed bright pink from the sound of your voice alone, but even the obscured sight of you on your back, waiting for Asmo’s next move so eagerly and obediently, had him throbbing in his pants.

“Good,” Asmo sighed in relief. “I can’t wait anymore.”

Asmo sunk down further than before, kissing you quickly before giving you a gentle lick. You gasped, and he rewarded you by sticking out his tongue, wet with saliva, and leaving it against you for a few seconds as he giggled, allowing you to simply feel the warm slick of his mouth.

Lust – as a pure essence – seeped from Asmo’s tongue. How else could you explain the aphrodisiacal effects he had on your body? It appeared effortless for him to leave you squirming and rolling your hips up against his mouth. Those lovely lips made a mess of you. Loud, needy moans that humiliated all who heard them served as proof of the sexual expertise of the demon between your legs. Your mind clouded. Your breath shortened. Your head lolled back.

You were being so perfect and pretty for Asmo that he couldn’t hold his own need back. His hips lowered just enough so he could leisurely grind against his bed, compounding his pleasure as he continued to taste and tease you. Asmo’s own moans reverberated against you and played as a beautiful accompaniment to your own that drove Solomon wild. Sexually intoxicating you was Asmo’s sole focus – entirely undisturbed until a soft groan from Solomon caught his ear – the sort that indicated a shameful degree of frustration that only made Asmo pull away from you slightly with a giggle. You whined.

“Poor thing,” Asmo cooed quietly, and, for a second, you weren’t sure whether he was talking about you or Solomon. “Should we give Solomon a bit of attention, too, MC?”

As much as you wanted Asmo to keep going, the opportunity to expand your circle of unearthly pleasure excited you – and you knew Asmo would never leave you unsatisfied. Head still hazy, you offered a slow nod as you shakily sat up. Asmo saw your unsteadiness and rose to meet you; a stabilizing hand found the back of your neck as he leaned in to kiss you affectionately. Your taste lingered on his tongue, shared with you through a deepening kiss that was cut cruelly short, the ache of which was only soothed by the adoration in Asmo’s eyes as he stared back at your bliss-stained face.

“My love is too beautiful.” Asmo cupped your cheek and ran his thumb along your lips before prompting your mouth open with it, “and so good, too.”

You bit down on him gently, earning a delighted laugh.

“Fuck,” Solomon sighed, growing impatient and eager for attention. The sight of you and Asmo flirting and being romantic was riling him up, stirring up this dark, predatory aura that dimmed the glow of the roses from a soft pink to a mysterious lavender. Even in the lowered lights, you saw his need and desperation cleanly – compressed and carefully restrained, ready to be made a mess of.

“My poor master,” Asmo giggled teasingly, turning and crawling over to Solomon, leisurely and wordlessly requiring for the release of his thumb – as if he was reluctant to let the appendage leave your mouth without proper attention. Perhaps another time, but at this moment, Solomon’s body called to him. Asmo leaned down, getting a closer look at the twitching tent in Solomon’s pants and running a single finger up it. “Should I give you a hand?”

“Just a hand?” Solomon scoffed. All that teasing and waiting, and the only thing you’ll give me is a hand, Solomon thought, pretty little brat.

“Trust me,” Asmo spoke sweetly enough to appease the great sorcerer, “you’ll like it.”

You and Solomon watched on in anticipation as Asmo undid Solomon’s pants and slid them slowly down his hips. To your surprise, Solomon’s cock sprang up.

“You naughty boy~” Asmo teased, “no underwear~? You weren’t expecting this, were you?”

“You really are a slutty old man,” you chuckled and approached him. Before Solomon could protest, you caught his lips in a heated kiss so intense that his embarrassment leaked from the tip of his cock. Asmo used it to lube up his hand in slow, circular motions around the head before he started stroking Solomon in equally slow motions. A rumbling sigh fed you and died in the back of your throat as Solomon eagerly accepted your kiss. That deep, debauched sound contrasted with the soft, submissive whimper that left his lips as you pulled away and attempted to cling to you.

“Grind on my ass, MC,” Asmo instructed, interrupting your kiss-induced haze.

“What?” you asked, playfully amused.

“Hump me, silly,” Asmo giggled and shook his ass for you slightly – still focusing on pleasuring Solomon. “Let me make you both feel good.”

You pet Asmo’s head gently before you positioned yourself behind him. With a firm grip, you pulled him flush against your hips and started to grind against his soft ass, earning an aroused “oh.” Solomon’s eyes met yours, and despite being bound by vines, he smirked at you, as if he could read your mind. Maybe it was the eroticism of the situation, but as you rolled your hips into Asmo’s, all you could think was fuck, this shouldn’t feel so good. Or maybe Solomon knew what you were thinking because the same thought crossed his mind.

“Do my soft, pretty hands feel good, master~?” Asmo asked, looking up a Solomon with the loveliest eyes – a look that unfortunately went ignored as Solomon watched your face contort in pleasure. Asmo’s only response was Solomon’s desperate attempt to thrust his hips up into Asmo’s hand at the same pace as you were humping his ass; it said enough, and the demon was all melodic giggles.

Was it Asmo’s warm, soft skin, or Solomon’s burning gaze holding you, or the moans of both men that filled the room? Maybe Asmo was using a spell on you? Something intensified the pleasure, and before you could figure out what was getting you so worked up, you were cumming against Asmo’s ass.

Asmo could feel you pulsing as your grinding slowed but refused to stop; a part of you still wanted more – couldn’t bear to separate your body from his. Asmo took advantage of Solomon’s evident excitement at getting to watch you cum and sped up his movements, pulling more lewd noises from Solomon.

“Fuck, please?” Solomon whined mindlessly, “I’m gonna cum.”

“I know~” Asmo cooed. “Be a good master and cum on my face, ‘kay?”

Solomon was so focused on biting back his moans that he couldn’t even manage a nod. Instead, he replied by following orders and spurting cum all over Asmo’s pretty face. Asmo looked up at Solomon; that lovely face that he had made a mess of made Solomon’s cock twitch. Asmo leaned in to kiss Solomon and stretched his arm over to the nightstand, grabbing his D.D.D. and opening the camera app. He pulled away with a seductive smile, turned, and handed you the device.

“Take a flattering picture, luv,” Asmo grinned. He wasn’t going to upload this moment; some things were too intimate to share – but not so intimate that proof of it should stay confined in memories. You snapped a few pictures – some lovelier than others, but one in particular caught your attention as you scrolled back. You showed it to Asmo for his nod of approval. He took his phone from your hand and gently tossed it on the bed so he could caress your face with both hands. “Beautiful.”

You weren’t sure if he meant you or the photo – or maybe you were, but you were too embarrassed to admit that the Avatar of Lust looked at a photo of himself and still turned to you in admiration, in worship. Yet, you, like a disciple, leaned in and began to clean his face with your tongue. Asmo was giddy at your touch, but with each slow trail your tongue traced, fervent arousal grew in him. Even Solomon, confined to watching, felt himself getting hard once more. He was enamored – so much so that he waited until you had cleaned every drop of cum off Asmo’s face before he dared interrupt by clearing his throat.

Asmo laughed and snapped his fingers, freeing Solomon from his binds.

Solomon chuckled, “you sure know how to show a few humans a good time.”

“It’s not over yet, is it?” You glanced down at Solomon’s crotch quickly.

“Of course not,” Solomon got to his knees and kissed Asmo’s forehead sweetly, placing his hand on the base of Asmo’s neck, as he stared at you lovingly, propositioning you. “Let’s give you a fun Asmo night.”

Once again, you weren’t sure who was at the receiving end, but you were certain night would bleed into morning. If the Devildom had a sun, your lovemaking would greet the sunrise in equal beauty.

(A/N: please ignore that this is half a year late and please enjoy the content. Turns out Obey me is almost done, but I'll keep giving you content to make you feel stuff for a while.)

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atangledfate · 2 days ago

Text

Lanolin's eyes were locked on the floor as everyone spoke there minds, among them perhaps only Blaze fully understood there situation. For what it was worth there world had rarely relied on the Federation, but it had always been a ruling body. They made the laws, they controlled the military, they had all the capital. If there was one organization that held all the cards in this world it was them. Trying to bully there way to victory felt like a sure fire way to piss them off. Sure they could threaten them with Sol's military, but then what? They come some kind of new military power? Who then do they answer to? As much as she HATED it! and she did, she didn't see a path to victory.

" It doesn't matter if they knew about Clutch or, Surge and Kitsunami, or even Belle and did nothing. The fact is when presented to the public how do you think it would reflect on us? Harboring Criminals who destroyed half a city. Hiding a Badnik within the base, and consorting with a knowing crime boss... GUN doesn't even need to fabricate a story--- They could tell the truth and it would still look bad for us. "

She spoke in a softer tone as she tensed up and seemed to feel the weight of her position for the first time. This was what it meant to be a leader--- saying what no one wanted to hear.

" Having leverage is good, But we can't just throw it in there face either. One miss step, one wrong sentence, and they declare restoration went rogue... cease our assets, cut off our fending, and declare its members criminals... They don't need to attack us today, to win tomorrow, and expecting Sol to step in with military force--- that looks like Blaze is planning an invasion... "

Her eyes went to Belle as she looked tired all of a sudden, like the day was wearing on her. The weight of what they faced had already dawned on her and she could not find a victory condition. No She had a feeling that the Federation had them dead to rights.

" I don't disagree belle but how do you think GUN would spin that? We both know Omega is like a dog to them, they send him in to clean house, and keep him under constant observation. "

Miles had been listening for awhile now without speaking a word to anyone. He just looked to have been thinking long and hard. It was a complicated mess, and Lanolin was right that going at this with a club was going to be messy. Confronting them with what little information they had, was going to backfire and it would make it all worse he figured.

Yet there was another option and Lanolin had already hinted at it.

" If we confront them now we lose, its just that simple. Showing our cards at this juncture... We'd tip our hand to early. As much as i hate to admit it... I think here today we have ot concede... let them have there little investigation really no other course that doesn't lead to conflict between us and the federation... "

" However, what we need is evidence that this was a big plot on there end. If we can prove that then in court we might have a chance... with enough capital and the right lawyers we can argue our case. But trying to argue it with this president here and now? it's like yelling at cop because he's gonna give you a ticket... or worse trying to bribe the cop. "

" that's my play, we let them think they've won and act behind the scenes--- Convert operations. It's our best play...we can use mimic as a bargaining chip to show our good will. Once we know more we can make a plan to counter GUN and the Federation but right now... if we act rashly we end up terrorists on a watch list... that's my idea, and i think our best shot of saving restoration "

Sonic didn't respond as he was staring at the wall grinding his teeth. He didn't get angry often but, this was one of those moments he felt like he was being dicked over. Yea Tails might be right but, he didn't have to like it! He knew the kid was smart, and maybe a conflict would be bad! but letting these guys use shitty political tactics on them sucked!

" So that's it? Just roll over and play dead? I'm still for butt kickin' let them call me a terrorist if they want... they can do it while choking on there teeth--- But what ever the plan i'll do my part. But this kinda stuff ain't my style... "

"I can't say we don't have any options. After all, I'm sure even GUN wouldn't wish to make an enemy of me or the Sol Empire. It may not be much of an advantage given I'm in their world, though it's at least something to push back with." Blaze was never one to use her status for threats or warnings, and today was the first time she's done it so much. Though the feline wouldn't sit by and let her friends be pushed around or threatened.

"Not to mention the fact they never even attempted to reach out to anyone about the fact Clutch is a criminal, or how they also knew Mimic was here in the base. I'm can only guess you guys had Mimic as a high priority of catching, so they should've known too. Easy to send a message if they have a spy in. Gives off the impression they set you guys up to fail. I only wish I had more solid proof on the rumors about the commander." Rowan was sure having solid intel on that guy would make them clear out in an instant.

"We also got Mimic in the Shadow Void to turn over. Can't say I trust GUN with someone like Mimic, if only because I wouldn't put it past them to put him to work, though it's something." Rowan wanted to just throw him in a hole and leave it at that, though he'd never hear the end of it from Tangle.

"If Surge is staying then so am I. They can try to take me, though they'll regret it in the end. All it takes is four to six minutes for someone to drown, and I can speed that up much faster with how smart I am." Kitsunami wasn't going to let anyone take Surge, or let anyone take him away from Surge. If GUN wanted to see how dangerous the fennec was then that was the fastest way to do it.

"It's okay Kitsunami. I doubt they'll try anything that'll tick you and Surge off." Belle wasn't surprised Kitsunami would go through such lengths, though gears and starters she didn't need to see him start racking up a body count of GUN soldiers. The tinkerer herself was thinking about what she should do. Tails and Lanolin had a point, yet so did Vector. Not to mention she was sure they'd only be interested in dismantling her. She was sure they could consider her as safe eggtech to copy.

"I won't go with GUN because I don't trust them. And if they want to take me just because of who my creator is then I'd be more than happy to bring up how they let Omega work for them." Belle knew Eggman created Omega, though as far as she knew they never tried to punish or arrest him. Hopefully that'd be of help to get them to leave her alone.

"So, we got Blaze backing us up, the fact they withheld the fact Clutch was a criminal, also not telling use Mimic was here, my unconfirmed dirt on the commander, and the fact they let Omega work for them. I guess we could also count them coming off as overly hostile." Rowan found all this excessive, at least without any warning.

"Is this a bad time to mention I also stole Clean Sweep's money? Maybe we should had that over, since I'm sure a lot of it must have been earned illegally." Belle could easily find out what was Restoration donations and what was Clean Sweep profit.

#Unit Commander #Lanolin #Gears and Starters #Belle #Blue Streak speeds By #Sonic #All Grown Up and Ready to Fly #Tails #Guest Muses #The Chaotix #Vector and Espio

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elizabethsnuts · 8 hours ago

Note

Would you okay to write a little something with baby!Reid wanting to wear matching bows/hair clips with Spencer? 🎀💕

Christmas Bows

Spencer Reid x Daughter!Reader

Summary: Spencer lets the two of you wear matching bows for your daycare Christmas party.

———

Your daycare was having a little Christmas party before the Christmas break, parents could come along as well and Spencer wasn’t going to pass up that opportunity to spend more time with you. He had taken a day off, apparently, it was just a day of paperwork and case files so he wasn’t missing much.

Spencer was getting you ready, the theme was, of course, Christmas, so you had to wear something festive. He had put you in a green and red dress, the only cute Christmas dress in the baby aisle, the rest were an eye-sore. He carefully tied your tuff of hair up with a red bow, making sure not to pull out your baby hairs.

Your tiny face lit up as you saw yourself in the mirror, wondering who the pretty baby was that was staring back at you. You pointed to the reflection and giggled. “Pretty!”

Spencer chuckled, holding your tiny torso so you were standing on the bathroom counter and getting to see your reflection in the mirror better. “That’s you! You're the pretty baby! You are a very pretty girl.”

You just babbled in response, bobbing down to rummage your tiny hands through the box filled with your hair clips and bows. Spencer was still holding you steady, making sure you weren’t going to fall. You picked up a hair clip with a red bow attached to it, just like the one you were wearing. You held it up to Spencer, showing it to him before sliding it into his hair loosely. “Dada.”

Spencer smiled and looked at you, clearly understanding the want for him to match with you. “Oh, I see! Okay, we’ll match. Daddy has to get festive too.” He fixed the clip in his hair, making sure it clipped to his hair properly and stayed in place.

You smiled at the sight, reaching back into the box and pulling out another bow, this one now green. You slipped it through his hair just like you did the other one, giving your tiny hands a gentle clap.

Spencer was a bit impressed that you were able to know and pick out Christmas-themed hair clips, though he wasn’t surprised, you were his mini-genius after all, just like him. “Oh, a green one with the red! Good job, we’re looking very festive.”

Spencer had got the two of you to your daycare on time for the Christmas party, of course he did, he was never late. One of your daycare teachers had come over to greet both of you. “Hello, Y/N! And hello to you too Mr Reid. Don’t you guys look very Christmasy?” She said with a smile, gesturing to the two of you.

You just gave your teacher a cute little wave, giggling as you saw the bows in Spencer’s hair again. You of course just wanted to show everyone you were matching with your daddy. “Daddy match.”

The teacher chuckled softly, running her hand over your hair, making sure to keep it neat and not move the bows. “I see! You guys are matching! You two look amazing, we love seeing all the Christmas colours don’t we, Y/N?”

You nodded eagerly, touching the red bow in Spencer’s hair. You got very excited about Christmas colours because your class had been learning about them these past couple of weeks. “Daddy, ‘Christmas…”

Spencer smiled, hoisting you a bit higher on his hip so you could touch the clips in his hair. He looked at you softly. “It is Christmas soon! 14 days to be exact, how exciting!” He turned to your teacher. “She picked the colours out herself.”

The teacher's smile widened as she heard that, she knew you were quite an intelligent little girl. “You did? You’re so smart! They definitely go with the festive Christmas theme!”

You had a blast at your Christmas party, mainly because you had your daddy there with you. The two of you made Christmas cookies together, cards and hats as well as Christmas ornaments. Of course, you always kept your matching bows on and showed them off to your little friends, saying that you and Spencer were ‘matchy-matchy’. You loved your dad more than anything in the world, and you were the light of his life. The idea of wearing matching bows didn’t seem awkward but instead was filled with his love for you, and how proud he was that you were his daughter.

#daughter!reader #spencer reid x daughter!reader #toddler!reader #spencer reid x toddler!reader #baby!reader #spencer reid x baby!reader #spencer reid criminal minds #criminal minds #criminal minds spencer reid #spencer reid fluff #fluff

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cal-daisies-and-briars · 1 day ago

Note

Chris dragging Eddie out of the closet by his ankles is something I didn't realize I wanted to read until now hahaha

⛅⛅⛅⛅⛅⛅⛅⛅⛅⛅⛅⛅⛅⛅⛅⛅⛅⛅⛅⛅⛅

He's very determined!

63 for ⛅:

---

“You’re ridiculous,” Chris sighs. “Look, just being totally real with you… I never felt like you were really happy until you and Buck were together, okay?”

Eddie goes a bit rigid. He thinks about Father Brian. His advice to Eddie.

“You always made me happy, Chris,” Eddie says.

“I know,” Chris says. “But it’s different now. I wish you could see yourself.”

Stop punishing yourself, Father Brian had said. Why is that the phrase that Eddie zeros in on now?

“I’ll think about it,” Eddie mumbles.

Chris smiles. “Good.”

🌤️

Buck is losing badly at a convoluted card game about animals. Nico is trouncing him. Though, to be fair, he’s not convinced Nico isn’t cheating. Just like his big brother… Which means he can probably blame it on Eddie. Well, whatever. Buck doesn’t actually care. He’s having way too much fun to care.

“Now you have to pick up eight more reptile cards,” Nico says, mischievous glint to his eyes.

This is a considerable amount of cards, given that the goal is to rid yourself of all cards first, and Nico only has two.

“Eight?” Buck asks. “Are you sure?”

Nico nods triumphantly. “Yes, those are the rules.”

If Buck read the rulebook, would that be true? Maybe Buck should have done that instead of trusting a five year-old to explain truthfully and without giving himself an advantage.

“I must just be really bad at this game, huh?” Buck asks.

“It’s okay, Daddy,” Nico placates him. “You’re just new at it.”

Buck’s chest feels warm. He’s so enchanted by this kid. How has this happened so quickly? It’s not even been a full day.

A few seconds later, Eddie and Christopher re-enter the house through the back door. Buck stands to see them. Eddie looks sort of emotionally wrecked. Eyes red and puffy. He looks a little zoned out, like he’s thinking hard about whatever the result of their conversation was. Buck wonders if he should ask, or leave it be. He doesn’t know what’s better for Eddie. Chris also looks a little red-eyed, but overall, much more at ease. Hmm.

“Everyone good?” Buck asks.

Eddie nods.

Chris walks up to Buck, pats his shoulder somewhat sagely, and smiles.

“You’re welcome,” he whispers.

Eddie, clearly having heard him anyway, coughs.

Buck blinks. “Uh, for what?”

“You’ll figure it out,” Chris says. Then he looks at Nico. “You kicking his butt?”

“Yes!” Nico declares.

#daisies and briars writes #promising light fic

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phone4pills · 2 hours ago

Text

DEAR SANTA DAY 1

𝜗𝜚⋆₊˚ slow’s advent calendar! no warnings apart from some venting, don’t try this btw, stranger danger

You felt so stupid when you dropped your letter in the postbox. Your friends had dared you to write a Christmas wish list and mail it to a random address in a random state. You’d spun a wheel and landed on Massachusetts. So you’d written your letter to a random home there, in Boston specifically. And you’d drawn pretty pink and red bows on the envelope, hoping whoever received it would like them. At first it didn’t seem like a huge deal but now that you were actually stood in front of the crimson post box, no way to turn back time and get your letter out of the pile, your nerves were spiking off the chart.

You took a deep breath, shoving your hand a back into the pockets of your coat and walked away, deciding that you wouldn’t look back at that darned post box, only following the snowy trail ahead of your feet.

Four days later - Sturniolo’s Home

Matt hurried downstairs towards the sound of the doorbell. The rest of his family had left the house to buy Christmas secret santa gifts for each other. He’d already ordered his online for Chris. A cameo from one of his favourite celebrities and a chain with his name on it. He also had a Lego set in his room that he’d been meaning to give his brother, so he would add that in too.

When he opened the door, he was surprised to find a postman with an envelope addressed to their house but nobody specifically. It was nicely decorated with some bows on the back so it wasn’t something serious like bills or anything to do with a business. And there was no parcel with it. Only the envelope. He thanked the postman and closed the door, almost scared to unveil what was inside.

The envelope sat on his desk for a few hours. And he stared at it. Longer and longer. Until the corners began to curve and he was seeing multiple shades in the plain white folded paper. He wanted to wait for Chris and Nick to get home so they could open it together. But the temptation was eating away at him. And he couldn’t resist anymore, reaching across the room to grab it and settling down on the end of his bed.

His fingers played with the opening for a bit until he eventually tore the envelope open and pulled out a folded bit or cream card. A deep breath racked through Matt’s throat as he unfolded the piece and read the note.

Dear Santa,

Whoever you may be, I hope you’re having a great time these holidays. I’ve never been the biggest fan of this time of year but I promised myself I’d be more outgoing so I’m writing this to you, Santa Stranger, hoping you’ll read it someday, preferably before Christmas.

I really wish for good grades in college this year and success in the future so the job I work to pay off my student loans is all worth it. I hope that I can finally buy the camera I’ve had my eye on for a while and take capture loads of memories with my friends, and my grandma because she’s getting older and I always want her with me.

But most of all, I hope that Christmas this year feels as magical as it was when I was a kid. The lead up to the holidays is always so exciting but I feel like I keep getting let down now that I’m older. I hope that this Christmas can be different, enchanting.

I admit, I have yet to buy presents for a lot of people. Especially the boys and men in my life. I swear it’s so hard to shop for the male population. If by any chance you might have some ideas, I’d appreciate them. That’s in the scenario that this reaches you in time and you can get it back to me before the 24th, which I kind of really hope it does.

That’s all for now. Until next time, Santa.

- Signed, Elf

A grin spread across Matt’s face and his eyebrows, that were previously knitted together, softened. He was ultimately in awe, unable to deny how genius he thought the whole scheme was. And he wondered what the chances were that this ended up at his house, of all the houses in America. He found your address on the back of the slip and made a start writing his letter back as quickly as he could.

He’d been meaning to talk to someone about Christmas in more depth. He’d talked about it a little bit with his brothers on their YouTube channel during the lead up to the winter season, but he’d never truly gotten to express how he felt about the time of year. And now he was given a perfect opportunity. There were no ties to it. No judgment. Only honesty, and he liked that.

Three days later - Your Home

You’d received a green envelope in your postbox with smiley faces drawn all over it. Instantly, you knew what it was. You’d almost completely forgotten about the message you’d shipped off previously and had your doubts about it being returned.

Hurriedly, you ran across the hallway and threw yourself down on the couch, giving your cat a few head rubs before peeling open the casing around a piece of white card.

Dear Elf,

I wish you’d seen my face when I opened your letter. I won’t lie and say I wasn’t frightful when I was handed the envelope. The bows are really pretty by the way, you must be a good doodler. I doodle a lot too, especially when I’m feeling particularly anxious about things.

Speaking of relations and similarities, I’m glad I’m not the only one who’s had a good few thoughts on Christmas this year, and the last few. Maybe some magical force directed your message to me so I’d have somewhere to write down all of my thoughts. I’d have someone to tell without the weight of being judged in person.

I’m not that good at writing if you couldn’t tell already but I’m trying my best. I hope this year’s holiday season is like a breath of fresh air from all of the stress that’s polluting my life. I feel like I just need to feel free to feel Christmas. And I’m grateful for all I have of course, but it’d be nice to get away from all of the hate and negativity that comes with it.

About college, I never actually went but I wish the best for you. You should tell me about it. And be honest, I want to know all the details. I don’t have much time before my parents and my brother get home but before I forget, women are ten times harder to shop for than men!

Anyway, I got my brother a silver chain with his name on it and a cameo for secret Santa this year. I’m also throwing a Lego set in there. I don’t know if that’s helpful in any way, but it’s all the knowledge I have to offer. At the end of the day, any gift is a gift in the end. And it will be appreciated.

I wish you a Merry Christmas and I hope that all of your wishes come true. I think everybody needs a little bit of holiday magic this winter. Please do keep writing back to me if it’s possible. I’ve been needing something like this without even knowing.

Can’t wait to hear back. Until next time, my Elf.

- Signed, Santa

Thanks for reading ! There will be a Chris fic to come on the 3rd. Meanwhile, I have something else planned for tomorrow my lovelies. And a warm welcome to Slow’s Advent Calendar everyone.

- ©phone4pills

#phone4pills #sturniolo triplets #chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #chris sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo fluff #chris sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo #nick sturniolo #matt sturniolo smut #chris sturniolo angst #matt sturniolo fluff #matt sturniolo angst #matt sturniolo x reader #christmas #ᥫ᭡ 𝒔𝒍𝒐𝒘’𝒔 𝒂𝒅𝒗𝒆𝒏𝒕 𝒄𝒂𝒍𝒆𝒏𝒅𝒂𝒓 #matt sturniolo fanfic #chris sturniolo fanfic

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wisecura · 2 days ago

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Shine

Yan-yuji x fem-idol reader

An:just a concept I was thinking about writing for soon. Let me know what you think. I prefer golden retriever type yanderes so here we go.

Warning: obsessive behavior, unhealthy behavior, stalking, please read at your own discretion

You met Yuji while on tour about a year ago.

You’ve met plenty of people. Hundreds if not thousands. From all walks of life. But that pink headed ball of pure admiration was definitely one that stood out. You could say with utmost certainty that Yuji Itadori was your most devout fan.

He showed up at every concert, purchased tons of your merch, went to almost every fan meet and greet. He was so consistent, you knew him my name at that point.

It was cute at first. That sparkling energy, those lovestruck puppy dog eyes, and that dopey smile he always gave you. Always energetic and happy to see you. Begging you to flash you killer pose he’d seen so often on stage.

It was like—from the second he met you—he was hooked. He just seemed to absolutely adore you. Knew all of your songs, followed every possible social media, and even led a few fan clubs.

After that year, he became much bolder. During your meet and greets he’d often ask for a picture, where he’d shyly pull you into a side hug—flashing a peace sign and bright smile. Now this wasn’t strange, it was something that was always offered in the meet n greet bundle.

Only now his hand seemed to cling on a little more tightly, not willing to let go quite as fast. You’d noticed his breathing picked up and his face flushing. And by the time he actually let go, you were almost a little red.

You’d shrugged it off—something you normally wouldn’t have done if it had been anyone else. Normally baring them from the next meet and greet just for safety sake. But you let it slide. After all, Yuji was a consistent face. Someone you were somewhat familiar with.

But you’d noticed you also started getting pages from the front desk of your pent house apartment more often. There’d been multiple visits from a hooded figure, loitering at the elevators. Trying—but failing to jam the button that lead straight to your floor. Thank fuck for key card access.

You’d been concerned, obviously. And what made it even scarier was the frequency of visits coupled with the lack of any actual resolution. They weren’t caught. Always slipping away just quick enough to miss the security guards.

And then the night came. First it was the knocks. Heavy. Loud. And frantic. You’d been too scared to open the door, immediately searching for your phone to call the police should you need to. Then making your way over to the intercom.

Before you could reach it, the knocks stopped.

This freaked you out enough to grab a kitchen knife—maybe dial the front desk. You’d barely reached the kitchen before you heard it.

Bam! Bam! BAM!

Your head spun around only to find someone’s foot through your front door. You, like any sane person, fucking panic—running to grab that knife before you didn’t have a chance.

You get there just in time to see that hooded figure standing at your kitchen entryway.

And who would you fucking guess, other than Yuji Itadori.

“Y-yuji?”

A huge grin spread across his face at your words. You’d remembered his name. A small pink blush crossed his cheeks. His eyes devoid of much else other than glassiness that reflected you. Damn near cold and dead.

That same lovesick grin he’d worn at every one of your meet and greets.

You couldn’t gauge his next moves, but you knew it wouldn’t be good. You kept your knife firmly in from of you, the only protection saving you from this lunatics psychotic break.

He looked ready to tackle you. And you weren’t sure you’d be able to take him. Something you normally wouldn’t pay attention to—wouldn’t have much reason to.

The dude was fucking built. At least twice as wide and a head whole taller than you.

And he started walking, slow—long strides.

“S-stay back!—“ you swing your knife—albeit a little clumsily. You definitely weren’t a fighter.

He stopped just out of your swinging distance, those same dead eyes staring down at you. His grin somewhat fading, an expression of worry—maybe confusion crossing his face.

“You don’t need to do that.” He makes a grab for your knife tats still latched in your trembling grip. “You’re gonna hurt yourself, cut it out—“

“Stay back!!”

“Hey cut it out—“ his grin falling completely, his expression growing more and more impatient by the second.

His hand shoots out grabbing your wrist with surprising strength. The knife falling between you two. And before you could think of even attempting to reach for it—he’d kicked it away.

“See? What were you thinking?” he muttered, tugging you into a crushing hug, his arms wrapping around you like a vice. His grip was desperate, clinging to you as if letting go would kill him. “Please, please don’t hate me,” he whispered, his voice breaking. “Let’s just go home. I’ll make everything better, I promise.”

You were trembling, frozen in his embrace, the weight of his words sinking into your chest like stones. You didn’t know what to say, what to do—every instinct screamed to run, but his arms refused to let you move.

All you could think was how much you wished you’d never met Yuji Itadori.

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all-skedaddle-and-no-bop · 13 hours ago

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felt cute might delete later >.< (guys please be nice im not good at this stuff)

◃─────────────────────────────────────────▹

the strongest has never felt so powerless before.

satoru gojo has always been prided on his title as the strongest. he took it in full stride, resigned to the fact that all he is and will ever be, is the strongest; all people will see is a weapon, when those brilliant blue eyes held so much more.

you were one of the ones to know that, to see past the layers of strength, to yearn for the real man underneath all the heavy medals of praises and accomplishments, of suffocating expectations. it wasn't easy, that was for certain, but it sure was rewarding. your relationship with satoru has been one of the best things to happen to you, and to him, too, whether he admitted it or not.

you loved his charm and confidence; while he was rather cocky and immature at times, which you still found endearing to an extent, you've also witnessed his gentle and wholesome side. from the quiet nights together after his long missions, where he listens to you talk about your day while laying on your chest, your fingers carding through his soft hair, to the messy mornings in the kitchen, filled with giggles and light banter as he gets flour all over the two of you while making pancakes for breakfast. these were memories the two of you would hold close to yourselves, the ones you would cherish and look forward to more.

but the certainty of more to come was quickly diminishing.

it started with a cough you brushed off, saying it was a simple cold. but one cough turned into two, turned into three, and before the two of you knew it you were having coughing fits that left you unable to speak, dizzy spells and weakening limbs that kept you bedridden, and more and more that led to satoru rushing you over to the hospital.

◃─────────────────────────────────────────▹

laughter no longer sounds through your shared home (it is a foreign sound now, one that echoes through satoru's mind, haunting him, taunting him). the house is quiet, nearly untouched (it is starved of a couple dancing through the halls, of a spouse greeting the other after a long day away).

the beeping from one of the many machines in your hospital room keeps satoru awake, his eyes trained on the screen. how ironic, the strongest desperately searching for something, anything to hold onto, to rely on. how pathetic, the strongest slumped over your bed, his head against the side of the one he loves, just to feel your faint breath; his hand holding yours, just to know that there is some life in you.

he was the top jujutsu sorcerer, he could defeat any curse, any opponent with ease. but here he was now, watching the person he loves most suffering in a battle he couldn't fight. he would do anything in a heartbeat to ease your pain; he wishes to take it upon himself. he would give up his title of the strongest for you, he would give you all his strength to get through it, if he could. how he had thrashed out on himself, cursing his title, himself, his weakness, that is, his overwhelming love for you.

"i love you," comes your quiet, raspy voice.

"i love you too, more than anything," comes his soft, yet firm voice, coupled with a gentle squeeze.

he noticed you'd been saying it more often. of course, he already knew that you enjoyed saying it straight out of the blue; but since you've been hospitalized, you've been saying it more often. as if you don't know whether it'll be your last "i love you" or not. as if you wish to comfort him when you're the one losing your health.

it scares him.

the strongest has never found himself so afraid. the strongest has never found himself so weak. the strongest has never found himself so helpless, so powerless in this moment, and he hated it.

love really is the most twisted curse.

#angst #jjk x reader #jjk gojo #satoru gojo #gojo satoru #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu gojo #jujustsu kaisen x reader #gojo x reader #jjk satoru #satoru gojo x reader #jujutsu satoru #gojo saturo #x reader #jjk #jjk angst #jjk fanfic

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bunnwich · 2 days ago

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RENNN HOW YA DOING????

I’m here to be silly so I’m here to disturb ya!!!

If Yuuta was a mystic beast, what would they be? Also goes for Leona as well!!! Hehehe

AAAAAAA I'M GOOD. Soso idk if this is what you were looking for but I did take part in a Yokai Au with Yuuta once and I picked gyokuto (or a moon rabbit) for them.

Yokai!Yuuta Midori: The Jade Rabbit

🐇🍡🌙

Lives on the moon so if you need them you have to be looking up at the moon at night to call for them or for them to hear you.

Visits insomniacs and those who have trouble sleeping. ( if you stay up too late they will come down to give a sleepytime mochi and tell you to go the fuck to sleep) Sometimes if the circumstances are dire enough they will bonk you with their hammer to knock you unconscious.

Has rabbit assistants made of clouds that deliver mochi for Yuuta when they are busy. These small buns can float in the air and understand human languages. Careful they bite!

Will leave treats on your door when you are hungry and have been neglecting your health (dumplings and mochi if you are good) If you are sick or injured and call on them they will leave food filled with herbs and medicine you need to feel better and keep you company. You can vent to them or play card games.

To start a friendship you can leave Yuuta offerings of green and shiny things. They like human baubles and homemade foods. Just leave them on your window sill and this will entice them to come to visit. They are fond of matcha milk tea and cloud bread as treats.

Likes to play pranks on those who call them frivolously or when they don't actually need the food or help.

Is mostly a "peaceful" yokai but has a BAD temper and will hold grudges if you cross them or disrespect them. Watch your head! They will bonk you with their mochi hammer if you don't behave.

Are not fond of the daytime and when they are seen during the day they are extremely sleepy and prone to nap. You may find them sleeping under the shade of a tree in the gardens sometimes. Occasionally, they will steal some protective "sunglasses" from a human's face as they explore Night Raven College.

Yuuta is not the first or only lunarian to live on the moon, they were born after the previous gyokuto passed on.

Powers:

Yuuta has a slight glow to their form so they also function as a nightlight to those scared of the dark.

Gravity does not affect them, they can float, and they can jump really high. When they walk it has a weightless appearance as if they are walking on clouds.

Semi-Omniscient (limited), they can hear the calls of those who are hungry or awake past the witching hour.

Healing food. Their food is crafted with special properties that restore vitality and encourage rapid healing in the body.

Interactions:

Once Azul Ashengrotto tried to take advantage of Yuuta's gifts and sell their mochi and dumplings for profit. The next batch he got from them was super spicy and gave everyone the runs.

When they were a baby Yokai they were not as good at making mochi or dumplings. Often their batches were messy and falling apart. Ruggie Bucchi became one of their favorites after he found them crying by a dumpster after a failed delivery. But, the young hyena didn't care if they were "ugly looking" or fell on the ground, he ate them all anyway and they have been friends ever since.

After this night, they would come down to play with Ruggie and the kids in his neighborhood, exchanging food for playtime. Because of this, they have a soft spot for those in poverty and those who are hungry.

Yuuta once had a run-in with Leona Kingscholar as kids. And since he was just a spoiled rich kid asking for treats Yuuta has held that grudge ever since. Now enrolled at Night Raven College like their friend Ruggie, the man now is known to ask them to come down for no reason just to irritate them.

Yuuta takes pity on the Ramshackle inhabitants because they remind them so much of their friend. So they try to leave them food on nights when they are hungry or keep them company when they can not sleep. Aside from that, they try to stay out of any feuds between other Yokai and typically keep to their own petty business.

For Leona...because I am fond of them now for my original story and my OC I think a Shishi or stone lion dog would fit him! (I believe I saw you write something for him before as one!

Anyway, I love the idea for him

Something something, his main purpose being protection but instead he is this begrudgingly moody beast. hehe

#twst #twst oc #yuuta midori #twst yokai #ask #Sorry for yapping but I had so many thoughts for this au

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lovehotelreservation · 2 days ago

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chapter two: used to burn cds full of songs i didn't know summary: worldwide fame and a political tie or two has you--one of the biggest pop stars around--in dire need of reliable protection. thankfully you have four ex-military retirees to entrust your wellbeing to. but what happens when that protection turns possessive? rating: pg-13 (rating will increase across certain chapters) story pairing: f!reader/task force 141 | chapter pairing: f!reader/price previous chapter | next chapter

would u believe me if i said part of the reason this fic exists in the first place is because i was listening to the mean girls remix and i placed price in the perspective of julian casablancas divorcedly singing about his failed relationships while thinking of the reader frolicking in the back as charli goin "THIS ONE'S FOR ALL MY MEAN GIRLSSSSSSSSSS" 😭😭

-----------------

Price was old.

He was well aware of this.

Whether it was the lumbering and lingering ache of a strained muscle from a campaign that greeted him upon waking up in the morning, or Johnny and Kyle snickering together of his first job being the lad who told Scrooge that it was Christmas Day, Price was well aware of the crows feet by his eyes.

And the refined and honed strength of his backhand across the back of Johnny’s and Kyle’s heads that only decades of experience could provide.

He wasn’t one to keep up with trends, but he was at least aware that buying music wasn’t the same either.

Instead of having his choice of Virgin Records or HMV to stroll up to on a Saturday morning, there was now Spotify or Apple Music on his phone.

It was a curious and nice thing however, to see that you–as a current artist–were still keeping the lost art of physical releases alive with your music.

While standard for you as a pop star, there was something kind and nostalgic to be able to pop open a CD case and pluck a thin shiny disc from within.

Though, here he was with a celebratory cigar in hand at a local pub not too far from the Shangri-La with the others–one that aligned more with their average shared tax bracket–, befuddled at the album that was handed to him, one that looked to be more the size of a Bible than the thin plastic cases of before.

Your first solo album.

A gift from you to him, Kyle, Johnny, and Simon that was given by your manager–Pearl, a woman whose knife-like acrylic nails, insistence on wearing sunglasses indoors, and an air of Dior perfume and cigarette smoke served as a quick snapshot of a no-nonsense industry veteran–on their way out from the hotel. The introductions and pleasantries were short and curt, her handshake firm and cold before she departed to return to her room upstairs.

Inside the ornate packaging of your album included a lyric booklet that looked to be a mini-photo book instead, pictures of your album’s photoshoot within–so unlike the thin booklets of before.

What did stand out most to him was the small card that featured a photo of yourself on the front and a signature printed on the back.

“Ahh got yerself gold right there, Captain! Her fans would kill ya for that,” Johnny chuckled, brandishing the card he received: the outfit was the same but your pose was different and he wasn’t as fortunate to receive a signature on his.

Neither did Kyle and Simon apparently, the former curiously checking your wiki page on his phone while the latter gleamed through your lyric booklet with nary a word.

Price brought his cigar to his lips for a puff, his eyes trained on your photocard, taking in every detail presented.

From having previously seen you so meek, quiet and shy to now holding a card of you dressed in full glamour, doe eyes gazing up to the camera and–

He glanced further down.

–your dress cut nice and low.

His lips pursed slightly in thought.

Perhaps it wasn’t the most professionally appropriate to be ogling his client or morally appropriate to be ogling the young woman who one of his good friends entrusted her safety to.

But hey–Price simply liked what he saw.

“You wanna trade, boss?”

Price’s gaze flickered over to Johnny, who held out his photocard: it was you with your back turned towards the camera, your eyes fixed in a wink and your fingers fixed in a peace sign. While his question was posed in a light tone, the look on his face was more like that of a puppy.

He returned his gaze to his card.

That look on your face, that revealing dress of yours.

Cigar smoke was held in his mouth a second more before he carefully released it from his lips to keep the heady clouds from floating over your card.

Shifting his eyes back to Johnny’s pleading features, he proceeded to flicker some cigar ash over a nearby tray. “It’s a tough economy out in the world, Johnny.” Practically hearing the Scot’s heart break from across the table, he held up your card once more, tapping on the front a few times–right on your cleavage at that–as he affirmed with a nod and his tone light. “I’ll be keeping this should I need to start bartering at Sainsbury’s.”

Johnny was left to seek comfort from Kyle and Simon for a trade.

“Let me save you some time, mate–I’m keeping mine.”

“Kyle, I didn’t even–Fine, fine. Simon let me see what ya got, yeah? Not like yer actually gonna do anything with it.”

“A picture’s worth a thousand words, Johnny. Hers is 10,000–start tellin’ me why I should give mine to you.”

“Dinnae gimme any of that cheek, ya bastard!”

As this went on, Price tucked your photocard away into the pocket of his bomber jacket, letting his hand linger over the printed rectangle for a moment longer.

Your beauty was worth more than gold, that was for certain.

-----------------

thank you for reading!!! for the warm reception upon debut!!! working on this piece has really reinvigorated a passion and drive for writing and i hope you all enjoy what's in store!!! 🙇‍♀️🙇‍♀️

and just as a little something something, here's the title of the next chapter:

sweat marks all on my clothes

i wonder who shall be the focus next time !!! 🙆‍♀️🙆‍♀️

#call of duty x reader #cod x reader #task force 141 x reader #task force 141 x you #captain john price x reader #price x reader #reader insert #bodyguard by lovehotelreservation #Fic

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ladyazurith · 2 days ago

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More thoughts on Cater's Dream.

So I wanted to post some of my thoughts on the preview we got for Cater’s card. First off, I’m excited, I thought it would probably be January at the earliest before we saw Heartslabyul’s arc. Cater’s dream is one I’ve been looking forward to the most but also held some anxiety. I’ve taken a lot of time to analyze his character from the pieces sprinkled in the main story, various events, and personal stories we have. I’ve probably looked at every scrap of information and interaction we have for him. He’s a character near and dear to my heart, likely not a surprise for anyone who’s seen my writing.

For the actual Analysis:

Firstly, I do personally think it’s pointing to him being in charge of *something* the title of King is pretty straightforward, along with the crown on his cheek in place of his diamond. While I can agree it is possible and likely pointing toward him being Heartslabyul’s Dorm Leader/Housewarden in his dream. I think this is an odd choice for his character. The only way I see this being a way that leads to ‘happiness’ for him, is because he’s the type of person that likes to help other people. This has been demonstrated over and over. And by taking on the role of dorm leader, he’s taking that pressure off of Riddle and Trey, which is what leads to Riddle’s overblot. In this position, he can make their lives better/happier.

I also think the presence of his skateboard indicates that his version of the dorm will be very laid back, where people aren’t afraid like they were under RIddle’s rule pre-overblot.

There is also the idea that this is all misleading, and it has nothing to do with Heartslabyul and his “King of Tricks” title is because he’s overseeing some kind of Skateboarding tournament. But that’s not a ‘real’ prediction just a bit of a joke I thought might be funny.

What I don’t think this indicates is that he was the *former* house warden/dorm leader as I see many people speculate. It’s an old theory but had been going around more now that this card has been revealed. To me, that theory never made sense, for two main reasons. One is very blatant. Riddle respects Cater, a lot. He sees him as a friend and even looks up to him in certain areas (he makes comments about not embarrassing Cater in flight class etc). And it’s very clear he doesn’t respect the former dorm leader *at all*. And Secondly, it doesn’t fit Cater’s personality to pursue that position. He doesn’t want the responsibility. If it turns out I’m wrong, I’ll accept it, but I’ll be looking for a really good explanation for the things I’ve mentioned here. There are other problems I have with the theory but honestly, they’d take their own post.

One of the things I hope to see in Cater’s dream because it would fit in with Malleus’s own struggle and what we do know of Cater and his struggles, is that he’s surrounded by people he’s truly friends with in his dream, who he doesn’t have to worry about saying goodbye to. It’s referenced more than once that Cater has moved around so much and struggles to be remembered by those he meets and has a hard time forming bonds with other people. If they don’t leverage that angle here I will be unbelievably disappointed.

#twisted wonderland #twst #cater diamond #heartslabyul #twst thoughts #twst chapter 7 spoilers #twst spoilers #twst chapter 7 #housewarden cater

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23fallencomets · 14 hours ago

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this shit genuinely has me soooo heated

so fran’s car is apparently now 2.5kg heavier which makes sense because of all the crashes and something i’m noticing is that some fans aren’t grasping the fact that Williams has been building around Alex, that is his team.

He’s the one signed on until 2027, and yes, there’s always a chance of them dropping him, but out of the combined point of the 2022, 2023 and 2024 season, which is 53 points, Alex scored 43 of them!!he has always been their top scorer in these last three seasons! In one season alone (2023) Alex scored more points (27 points) than George and Latifi (23 points in 2021).

through the season we saw them prioritize Alex over Logan, which as much as we can hate on it, made sense. we saw it so vividly in australia and with Alex getting the upgrades before Logan in the following races. if i’m remembering correctly, there was one race where they had the same upgrades and guess what, they failed so bad that they had to remove them!

anyway, getting off topic, franco joined williams when both cars were equal and we can see that, but ultimately, williams is back at where they started: with an overweight car.

so yes, we can always circle back to logan not being able to drive that tractor of a car (i think it was like 8kg heavier at the beginning of the season) and williams *cough james cough* attempt to blame the driver

i honestly don’t even know where i was going with this anymore i genuinely lost the plot, but i have a very heavy dislike for james vowels and how he, in a way, changed the perception of logan to the media and in the same vein, his team.

bottom line is, Alex will always be prioritized within the team even when James can’t seem to manage to drivers with potential because it was easier to manage one driver when you let the other sink, but since both current williams drivers are good he’s struggling

this isn’t like, a hate thing i love the williams drivers and franco is doing an amazing job with the cards he was dealt with and i wish him nothing but the best, but this is just how williams has been for the entire season

ps. i’m not looking to argue or debate with anyone, this is solely my personal thoughts and opinion, the last time i did something like this i went at it with an anon about checo and danny so ill close my asks if i have to

#idk how to tag this #comets rants #this shit has had me sooo fucking heated #anyway alex albon defender first and foremost #that man has been trying to drag that fuck ass team from the trenches year after year #literally nervous for next year #had me doing math and shit like if i didn’t nearly fail every single math course #i’m gonna tag alex and hope i don’t get jumped #alex albon #alex albon they can never make me hate you #also nothing but love for franco #he’s going his best #it’s that team that gets me sooo 😤😤#i love the williams drivers SO DONT GET IT TWISTED #adding on: it might’ve been logan but it was NEVER just logan

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kathlare · 2 days ago

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taking the leap

Lando Norris x Amelie Dayman

Summary: Amelie faces a pivotal moment as she opens up to her family about her relationship with Lando. Navigating a mix of reactions, from skepticism to cautious support, she stands her ground with vulnerability and determination.

Wordcount: 1.1 k

Warnings: just fluff

request over here!

February 12th, 2024 - Mérida, México

The air in Mérida felt heavy that evening, as if it could sense the tension Amelie carried in her chest. She stood in the kitchen of her family’s sprawling home, her hands clutching her phone as she nervously reread the text she’d sent Lando earlier.

Ames💛: About to tell them. Wish me luck. Lan🧡: Good luck, love. You’ll be fine. And if not, I’ll fly over and charm them myself. Ames💛: You’re not that charming. Lan🧡: You fell for it.

She bit back a smile, her nerves easing slightly at his confidence. But then her father’s voice boomed from the dining room, calling everyone to gather, and the knot in her stomach tightened again.

Her mum already knew, of course. Julie, Amelie’s meddling but endearing grandmother, had spilled the beans over the holidays when Victoria visited London. While her mum had been understanding and even a little amused, her dad, Stella, and Callum were wild cards. They weren’t hostile to Lando—they’d liked him well enough when he and Amelie were just friends—but this was different.

It wasn’t just “Lando, the friend.” It was “Lando, the boyfriend.” And Amelie wasn’t sure how they’d take it.

As she walked into the dining room, the voices of her siblings filled the air. Callum was recounting some work story, Stella was wrangling Carlota into a seat, and Jack was trying to outpace Elysia in finishing a slice of pan dulce.

—What’s with the serious face, Ames?— Jack teased as she walked in, plopping herself down beside her dad. —You look like you’re about to deliver bad news.—

—Depends on how you take it,— Amelie quipped, her voice steady but her hands fidgeting with the edge of her shirt.

Elysia looked up, sensing the shift in energy. —What’s going on? Did something happen?—

Victoria, seated at the head of the table, gave Amelie an encouraging nod. Amelie swallowed hard, willing her voice to stay firm.

—I have something to tell you all,— she began, glancing around the table. Her dad’s eyebrows knit together in mild concern, while Callum tilted his head curiously.

—Spit it out already,— Stella said, though her tone wasn’t unkind.

—Lando and I are dating,— Amelie blurted out, the words tumbling out in a rush.

The room fell silent, save for the faint clink of Emilio dropping his spoon on his plate.

—You’re what?— Elias finally said, his tone a mix of disbelief and something harder to place.

—We’re dating,— Amelie repeated, her voice quieter but firm. —It’s serious. And it’s been serious for a few months now.—

Callum leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms. —Since when?—

—November,— she admitted, feeling the weight of their stares.

—So, this whole time you’ve been sneaking around?— Stella asked, raising an eyebrow. —When we thought you were just friends again?—

—We weren’t sneaking around,— Amelie said, though her voice faltered slightly. —We just... wanted to be sure before telling everyone.—

—And you’re sure now?— her dad asked, his tone sharper than usual.

Amelie met his gaze head-on. —Yes, I am.—

—Why now?— Callum asked, his skepticism evident.

—Because it’s serious, and because Lando’s important to me,— she said, her voice gaining strength. —I didn’t want to hide it anymore.—

Her dad leaned forward, his elbows resting on the table. —Amelie, I know you think this is serious, but relationships like this... they’re complicated. Lando’s life is...—

—Busy? Chaotic?— Amelie interjected, her frustration bubbling to the surface. —So is mine. But we’re making it work.—

Victoria finally spoke up, her voice calm but firm. —Elias, don’t make this harder than it needs to be. Amelie’s an adult. She knows what she’s doing.—

—Does she?— Elias countered, his gaze still fixed on Amelie. —Because the last time you two were involved, it didn’t end well.—

Amelie flinched at the reminder, but she didn’t back down. —We’re different now. We’ve talked about everything, about what went wrong before, about what we want now. This isn’t the same.—

—And if it ends the same?— Stella asked, her tone not unkind but cautious.

—Then it does,— Amelie said simply. —But that’s a risk I’m willing to take.—

The room was silent for a moment, the weight of her words hanging in the air. Finally, Jack broke the tension with a low whistle. —Damn, Ames. Didn’t think you had that kind of speech in you.—

—Me neither,— Elysia added with a small smile.

Elias sighed, leaning back in his chair. —I just want you to be happy. But more than that, I want you to be sure. You’ve got a lot going on, Amelie. Don’t let this distract you.—

—I’m happy, Dad,— she said softly. —And I’m sure.—

Victoria reached over, squeezing her husband’s hand. —Then that’s what matters.—

Stella still looked skeptical, but she didn’t press further. Callum, however, leaned over to Amelie, his voice low. —If he screws up again, I’ll kill him.—

Amelie couldn’t help but laugh, the tension finally breaking. —Noted.—

As the conversation shifted back to lighter topics, Amelie’s phone buzzed in her pocket. She glanced at the screen, a small smile tugging at her lips.

Lan🧡: Still alive? Ames💛: Barely. But I think they’ll come around. Lan🧡: Told you. I’ll charm them if I have to. Ames💛: Might take more than charm. Lan🧡: Good thing I’m persistent.

She slipped her phone back into her pocket, her heart feeling lighter. Whatever challenges lay ahead, she was ready. And for the first time, she felt like her family might be, too.

Dinner wrapped up more smoothly than Amelie had anticipated. The initial shock had given way to a semblance of normalcy, though she could tell her dad was still processing. Callum had gone back to discussing his latest architectural project, Stella was busy trying to convince Chequito to eat his vegetables, and Jack and Elysia were now bickering over who got the last piece of dessert.

But when her dad stood and quietly motioned for her to join him on the patio, Amelie knew the conversation wasn’t quite over.

She followed him outside, the humid Yucatán air wrapping around her as they stepped into the dimly lit garden. Her dad leaned against the railing, his face unreadable in the soft glow of the patio lights.

—You know I’m not against this, right?— Elias said after a long silence, his voice quieter than before.

—I know,— Amelie replied, crossing her arms as she stood next to him. —But you’re worried.—

He glanced at her, a small, wry smile tugging at his lips. —You’ve always been able to read me too well.—

—It’s because you make it so obvious,— she teased lightly, though her smile quickly faded. —But I get it, Dad. You’ve seen me mess up before.—

—It’s not about messing up,— he said, shaking his head. —It’s about the fact that I’ve watched you work so hard for everything you’ve achieved. You’ve fought for your place in this world, Ames. And I don’t want you to lose focus.—

Amelie sighed, leaning her elbows on the railing. —I won’t. Lando doesn’t take away from that. If anything, he... he reminds me why I love what I do. He gets it, the crazy schedules, the pressure. He supports me. He makes me happy.—

Elias looked at her for a long moment before speaking. —He makes you happy now. But what about later? When things get harder? You’ve both got lives that pull you in opposite directions. How do you make that work?—

—We figure it out as we go,— Amelie said, meeting his gaze. —That’s all we can do. I know it’s not going to be easy, but nothing worth having ever is.—

Her dad sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. —You’re stubborn. Just like your mother.—

—You married her anyway,— Amelie pointed out with a grin.

—And look where that got me,— he said with a dramatic groan, though his smile betrayed him.

Amelie laughed, the tension between them finally easing. She reached over, wrapping her arms around him in a tight hug. —Thank you, Dad. For worrying. For caring. But you don’t have to anymore. I’ve got this.—

Elias hugged her back, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. —I’ll always worry, Amelie. That’s my job. But if you’re happy, then that’s all that matters to me.—

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