#i eagerly await your reply Anon

[vaperarmand]

you should watch it but do it right

omg okay give me more. what does it mean to watch it right. i do want to do it right so i need all the tips tricks and pointers that you have to offer about that. and do you have faith in me 👉👈

[yandere-wishes]

Hi!! Just wanted to say May I request Yandere Capitano with a reader that’s like “omg you love me? No worries girl I love you too🤭��� and doesnt mind his yandere tencedies? she is like really chill!

̩̩͙❆ Anon I tried to answer your ask as best I could but totally forgot about the reader being chill part and kinda made her a bit crazy. I LOVE it when the reader is also unhinged, There's something so delicious about crazy intercepting crazy.

̩̩͙❆ I wrote something similar here: Ice on Ice

｡ ₊°༺🧊༻°₊ ｡

̩̩͙❆ He's salt in the wound. a delicious itch that slithers beneath the skin and nips tenderly at your veins.  

̩̩͙❆ You try to shy away from his kisses, to fear the metal and frost. But instead, you get lost in his scars, fresh and old, raw and weathered. Your fingers trace his jagged lines, nails picking at the cicatrix pealing away the eschar. He only pulls your hand to his lips laying fervent kisses across the palm.

̩̩͙❆ Capitano runs his lips along your neck, inhaling your scent as you revel in his metallic touch. "You should be scared" he chuckles, "Most damsels fear the knight, fear things that are wartorn." His breath hitches, teeth digging into soft skin leaving kisses and claims. Your only reply is a wanton moan.

̩̩͙❆ Somewhere behind you, a body writhes with a final breath before going limp.

̩̩͙❆ Capitano likes to play the role of the vigilante knight. Fine. You'll play the role of the sweet damsel, the valiant darling. You let him kiss you like he's trying to kill, like he's trying to preserve. Wartorn things are not known to be gentle. You appreciate the fact that at least he tries.

̩̩͙❆ You'll kiss him goodbye at the door while hiding sadak knives behind your back. His lips bruise yours, teeth biting your lips raw marveling at the sweet taste of your crimson essence. He doesn't want to go, doesn't want to spend a moment apart from you. But he must obey his queen, he must follow the frozen path. You wait until his silhouette disappears into the immortal snow before turning away and closing the glacier door.

̩̩͙❆ Knights and spies. Swords and Knives. Killers and killers. All of it just sounds like 'lovers' to your jejune ears. Maybe it's the eternal cold that sets into people's hearts, maybe it's the human nature to kill first and question later. Regardless you've come to learn that your lover has many enemies staggering around Snezhnaya. People who wish to see Capitano's helmet resting by a marble tomb.

̩̩͙❆ You extinguish those who plot against him, those who scheme in shadows against the crown. There are none foolish enough to attack him outright. But they prepare his demise in the dark, a hundred arrows pointed at his back. Posion-laced cocktails served at a mandatory banquet. You've learned to hide amongst the shrouds, to leave nothing behind but fatal wounds that won't stop bleeding. You've learned to protect what's yours...

̩̩͙❆ Oh, sweet darling, protector of the knight.

̩̩͙❆ His returns are becoming all too sweet, you can't remember when you started awaiting him at the door, heart in your hands, dying for a cold kiss from a cold man.

̩̩͙❆ You jump into his arms once he opens the doors, Capitano laughs twirling you as he muses over how much he's missed you. You push up his helmet eagerly devouring his lips as he squeezes your body closer relishing in your sweet scent and the fullness of your fragile body beneath his steel fingers.

̩̩͙❆ "Tell me how you slayed them. Tell me about the gore and the way the sun reflects off your red-marred sword" Capitano spears no details, sweet intimidation tactic to keep you in line. Carnage drips from each word, as you peel away his armor, kissing every new piece of revealed skin. Running your tongue inside his fresh scars. You straddle his lap working nimble fingers under his armor pulling away the iron and letting it clank against the floor.

̩̩͙❆ You push him down roughly onto the bed, enjoying the way he hisses and squirms from his broken bones and wounds pushed open. You love him like this bruised, bones still unmended, scars still gushing out blood. You run your fingers over his biceps as he begins to lay kisses across your neck. Fingers sinking deeper into the plush of your thighs.

̩̩͙❆ You paint scars upon his back as his lips peck and bite your hips and chest. Teeth pulling your flesh as he glides his fingers across your spine, enjoying the view of you writhing and moaning under his icy touch.

̩̩͙❆ "I love you" he whispers, a forbidden prayer. Delineating the shell of your ear with his lips. "I shall burn the world for you, my lady, kill any who try to pry you away from me" You cuddle closer never able to fully repeat his words. 'I love you' you long to say, instead you settle for sinking your teeth into the flesh over his heart, and biting until his blood floods your mouth.

̩̩͙❆ I love you, I love you, I love you...

[astralnymphh]

YES PLEASE. BLOCKBUSTER ELLIE?? 90’s?? SIGN ME UP. WHERE DO I PUT MY NAME??😖😖🙏

- 🩵

a/n + cw; OMGG AN EMOJI ANON i haven't seen you guys in a hot minute, but YESSS BLOCKBUSTER ELLIE!! specifically x customer reader. it's a cute duo! and let me relay why from my very scrambled 3 am jot-down. was going to make this a blurb, but it better translates through something more structured. ++ SFW! kinda mean!reader tbh (but ellie likes that), very fluffy you might squeet, quickly written, awkwardness, ellie being a nerd. [first pic from amoaeIIie on pinterest]

Imagine Ellie, in her blockbuster getup, leaning her butt into the edge of the register counter, jamming to whatever is playing on her hand-me-down walkman; earsbuds in, eyes downcast, head bopping slowing - soundly unaware of you awaiting service on your over-due rental. "Hello?" your volume divides the soft ambiance of the store, but it isn't enough to rope Ellie's mindspace from the clouds. Calling out again, "Hell-looh?" you extend beyond the cash register and wave your hand - nothing, nada.

How the hell has this girl not gotten her ass fired yet?

After numerous roadblocks, a brazen last resort comes into play. You cut around the counter briefly to take things into your own hands (literally) because you have not the time, nor the patience, for her slacking off.

Beryl eyes drop sharply to the walkman in her pants pocket when a single earbud is spooled from her ear, assuming it fell - but to her surprise, it hung low from your finger, and a glance above that finger was your face. Risen of one brow, flat-lined of your lips; impatient.

And her entire focus blanks out when you begin to speak, curtly and satirically, "Hey, I know busting out your Dad's old walkman in public makes you feel cool and whatnot, but you're on the clock." handing the slim cord back over to a stunned girl, flushed behind the pop of her freckles. Maybe your tone of voice sent her higher into the clouds, past a coven of angels, because her lips part narrowly and remain still for a single second - save two or three. Or maybe it's 'cause you specified it as her 'Dad's' which was.. spot on.

And whatever excuse she had quickly cherry-picked for you, hesitated audibly in her throat before it split from it, "O-Oh, right, shit sorry - was about to end my shift n' thought the store was empty. My bad." scrambling to stuff the other earplug in her pocket and avert all attention to you. Very eagerly.

"Looks like you've got a late fee on this one.." her pitch pummeled deeper, and coarser as she concentrates on the clunky screen she hunches slightly to use. Scrunching the freckles of her face together, hogging the blue-lit screen. Poor girl probably forgot her glasses at home. "Annnd are you looking to rent the sequel?" she peeks her auburn head from the screen and holds up the cased movie, tracing her index over the plastic cleft, tapping twice. "To this - it has a second part."

There's no denying it: she is cute - and guilt rolls your guts around for being so snippy and sullen to her earlier. But based on her demeanor growing enthused the second she saw what movie you had in hand - she doesn't seem to care a hoot.

"Out of stock," replied you, indifferent-sounding - and strking; crossed arms, bent knee, stiffly-standing. Comparable to a millpond. "Guess I won't be the only person with late fees." you take a breath to jest, shaking loose strands of hair from your eyes.

"Haha," you're no world-class comedian; that joke wasn't all that funny, but the need to hurl any affirming noise at you, was necessary. Relenting to reflex. What can she say? Love at first sight! "Yeah, that seems like the agenda these days," Ellie sighs out, molding the plump of her lip under her teeth and reshapes it into a dorky smirk. Isn't she just a sweet chocolate-box of adorability?

"Hmm, bummer."

That hum and word trips into her ears, knocking some brain-cog, and an idea limns her features; they glow wide. "Actually - um, I've got a copy of the sequel at my place. Technically it's my Dad's, but.." her pitch fluctuates, mindlessly thumbing the case between two fiddly hands. "Maybe you can - if you want, not pressuring you or anything - come over?" she throws a pointed thumb backwards, motioning a potential future. "Watch it? If you weren't planning on watching it with somebody else."

Slick trick to seeing if you're single; of course you'd watch movies with your boyfriend - or girlfriend.

"Hmmm.." you hummed longer this time, and this time it admitted the mushrooming of an almost aggravating anticipation in her belly. Like you meant to torture her with 'hmms' and nothing but 'hmms' as your answer hung high in cloudy abeyance, until, "What's the name on your tag - ah, Ellie."

"Yeah?"

"Ellie," you confirm her name twice, and speak it to enthrall her full-scale attention. Made it sound fucking sugary sweet, through a swirly whisper and a twist of your head. "If you can give me a discount, or a full wipe on that late fee, then yes. It's a date."

Light panic ensues. "Date?" she croaks and laughs it off, "I mean - pshh, guess that's one way to put it." backtracking to her hunched, elbows-on-the-counter pose.

"You put it that way."

"Yeah, I just.. didn't wanna admit that." immediately, she uncurls her spine again, relaxing her muscles to somewhat peer at you. "Sure. No more fees." Rounded eyes lost - adamant on indirectly staring at you and the space below you, because Goddess forbid a stroke of idiocy flickers through her while gawking at you.

The store runs dead-quiet in the background of your conversation, leading you to one golden question. "Your shift over after this?"

Oh damn, her cheeks are pink. "Uh-huh," bet she's oblivious to that red-hot beam nearly bursting the seams to her face, too. Nasal lines fold as a severe smile tugs, shadowed by her bent thumb poking at it. "Takin' my car?"

And that's how you pick up girls at a video store in the 90s - the Ellie Williams way.

this isn't even the full idea

[clara-a7]

Interview | Joost Klein

Pairing: Joost Klein x Reader

Requested? Yes! By an anon

Word Count: 416

A/N: Sorry, if the fanfic is very short and there are mistakes, english isn't my first language. i'm so sorry for that＞﹏＜

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

The tension was palpable in the interview room. The cameras were in place, the microphones tuned, and you were seated, ready to answer the questions that would shape the public's perception.

As a Eurovision contestant, every word and gesture was scrutinized and analyzed. The journalist sat across from you, a professional smile fixed on his face.

"Welcome, Y/N, it's a pleasure to have you with us today."

"Thank you so much, I'm thrilled to be here," you replied with a little smile.

The interview begin, with questions about your preparation for the competition, your musical inspirations, and your expectations for the Eurovision finale. You responded with enthusiasm, trying to convey the passion you felt for music and for this extraordinary event.

Then come the question you dreaded, the inevitable one. The journalist adjusted his glasses and dove straight into the heart of the matter.

"Many fans have noticed a certain alchemy between you and Joost, on online, there some rumors, with the speculating that you might be a couple. Can you shed some light on this?" Your heart skipped a beat at the question.

The rumors about your relationship with Joost had escalated in recent days, fueled by snapshots and videos of your backstage interactions. You blushed, because during that week with Joost, you had developed feelings for him, even though you knew he didn't feel the same way, it squeezed your heart.

The journalist looked at you with a questioning gaze, awaiting your response. But you can't find the goods words, the journalist seemed bored waiting for your answer, out of nowhere, Joost unexpectedly intervened, surprising both you and the journalist.

"I think I heard my name?" Joost said, coming up behind you and putting his hands on your shoulders

The journalist seized the opportunity to pose the same question to Joost. Joost winked at you before responding,

"I guess our fans will just have to keep guessing, won't they? But I just want to say that Y/N will always have a special place in my heart" he says, blowing you an air kiss.

You blush harder at his answer. "So we'll never know?" laugh the journalist, seeing the clearly visible link between you and Joost.

The interview concluded on a teasing note from the journalist, suggesting that there might be more to your relationship than just friendship, leaving fans eagerly to know what the future holds for you and Joost after Eurovision.

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

!Pictures is not mine. Found on Pinterest. Full credit to the owner! 

[vettelsvee]

YOU'RE JALEOUS | Charles Leclerc

f1 masterlist | wattpad | ao3 | instagram

charles leclerc x reader

summary: charles gets jaleous of lando when he sees him talking with his girlfriend 

wordcount: 1529

a/n: it's been a long time coming but i'm finally here! i've actually had this saved on my drafts for quite a long time BUT never posted it. however, since we got charles pole today, i thought you might like this even tough is a crap (i'm so sorry, you absolutely deserve better works) :)

you can send your one shots requests here or via anon! feedback, as well as comments and reblogs, are truly appreciated!

Charles and you decided to attend a party they had been invited by someone the driver didn’t even know, that took place at one of the most famous venues in Monaco. Although you initially felt intimidated because none of Leclerc's colleagues had appeared yet, as you drank a few drinks, the music seemed interesting enough for you to dance along with the twinkling lights.

To say that Leclerc was happy with his performance on the track that afternoon would be a li. His pride was immense because he had finally achieved the victory: winning not only for the first time in 2024 season, but also winning his very own home race for the first time ever. This had led to great acclaim not only from his fans but also from specialists, the press, the team, and even his colleagues, who were eagerly awaiting il predestinato's return to the victories.

In those moments, with his shiny black suit highlighting his appearance and, especially, his trained body, he felt unique, and even more so with you by his side. You were matching your partner perfectly with the dazzling dress you were wearing and that fit you perfectly.

As you enjoyed a drink in a quiet corner after a long time on the dance floor, Leclerc wrapped his arm around your waist, intending to bring you closer to his side. Your eyes met, somewhat mischievous, leading to a playful smile forming on your lips.

"Charles, you’ve been incredible in today's race," you exclaimed with excitement, proudly praising your boyfriend's talent. "I'm so proud of you."

Charles returned your smile, feeling filled with joy by your unconditional support.

"Thank you, darling. But what I'm proud of, and also lucky for, is having you in my life," he responded tenderly.

You continued chatting animatedly without an apparent topic of conversation, ranging from what would be your next holiday destination to the upcoming race, which would take place in Canada. However, when you started talking about a charity event that Charles would have the opportunity to lead, your gazes turned to a familiar figure approaching you: Lando Norris.

"Hey, Charles! Congratulations on that first place!" Norris exclaimed, excited to see his friend.

"Thanks, Lando!" the mentioned replied enthusiastically, patting the McLaren driver on the back. "You did great too. A sixth place is not what I expected from those cars, but it was truly impressive taking into account the strategy they had for you."

"Stop talking about McLaren when you know we can talk about Ferrari," Norris joked.

You observed the interaction between the two drivers with a mix of pride and curiosity. At first, you decide to give space to both guys, letting them freely discuss the day's events without the attentive gaze of a girl. However, when you finished checking your social media and posted a few Instagram stories with photos you took that morning, you decided to join the conversation.

"Lando, have you forgotten about me?" you teased. "I'm still in shock from today's race. It was a real spectacle."

"Thanks, Y/N!" He stopped looking at you and instead turned to his friend. "What do you think if we celebrate our incredible, but true, achievements together now? No one else is coming, and I talked to Carlos earlier!"

You looked at Charles, seeking his approval. He, a bit tipsy, nodded with a smile.

"I had other plans in mind but I think we can actually postpone them. Right, Y/N?"

With such a declaration, you three headed to the dance floor, not without first ordering something to drink to accompany you in your enjoyment full of laughter, excitement and dance moves that were surely the ones from someone who’s had enough drinks for a day.

As you moved to the rhythm of the music, Charles noticed you stepping away from his side to join some members of the Ferrari team. He decided to follow you, ready to talk to his coworkers. To his surprise, you were chatting animatedly, in the midst of the crowd, with Lando, who had excused himself to go to the bathroom minutes before.

Jealousy and anger coursed through his body in a shiver. The Monegasque felt an urgent need to intervene and mark his territory. As much as he knew you didn't depend on him, and you were both completely independent individuals sometimes, moments like this were the ones where he felt a hint of insecurity about those who, apparently, dared, even minimally, to intrude on your relationship.

Forgetting his discretion and good judgment, Charles rushed towards you and the Brit, his eyes filled with determination and a threatening look on his face, ignoring the insults he had received from those drunkards he had punched.

"What's going on here?" he demanded to know in an authoritative and tense tone.

You and Lando turned, surprised, at Charles's intrusion. You looked at him, confused by the jealousy in your boyfriend's face. You were simply discussing with Norris the idea for a special party in Monaco the following week, just before the next Gran Prix, in honor of Charles’ recent victory.

"Love, you're misinterpreting things," you said, trying to stay calm. "We were just talking as friends," you emphasized the last word.

Leclerc clenched his fists in an attempt to control his anger.

"I don't want you to keep talking to him," he communicated harshly, surprising you greatly.

Lando intervened, trying to alleviate the tension and, especially, to calm his friend's apparent sadness:

"Dude, you have no reason to make a scene in front of everyone over an insignificant bout of jealousy. We're just having a friendly conversation about something for next week, okay?"

Leclerc's expression became even tenser, and his eyes narrowed as he noticed the symbiosis that you, his girlfriend, and Lando, his friend and opponent, seemed to have in hiding something.

"I wouldn't want to ask you again, so... What were you talking about?" Charles inquired in an even sharper tone.

Feeling you boyfriend's murderous gaze, you tried your best not to burst into tears over something as stupid as Charles's insecurity.

"Seriously, believe us," Lando spoke, trying to calm the brunette down. "You have to trust us, we were just talking about something we came up for next week just before Canada!"

The Ferrari driver tried to control his anger, if it was still possible. Meanwhile, he took his time to look at you with, once again, a mix of anger and disappointment, mainly for not answering him.

"And you, why don't you answer me? Are you only interested in him now?"

You looked at him surprised by such a comment, and tried to explain quickly:

"I'll repeat it again, honey: we were just having a friendly conversation! Lando is my friend and your rival, friend, or whatever you want to say it, but there's nothing more to it!"

Out of nowhere, Charles gently took you by the wrist and led you to a place where you could talk quietly. The green-eyed, despite having a bit more alcohol in his system than he should, knew he messed up and needed to fix it somehow.

"Y/N, please be honest: what were you talking about?" Leclerc asked with a concerned expression on his face for the scene he had caused.

"About what we could do in Monaco, here, next week, alright?" you responded, trying to reassure him. "You don't have to worry about anything"

"But why are you talking to him about racing?" the Monegasque insisted again, trying to calm his tone of jealousy. "I don't understand why you have to make plans with other drivers when you're my girlfriend."

"Charles, come on, don't be jealous!" you scolded with a playful smile. "Besides, what we were planning was a surprise party in your honor because, in case you don't remember, you just won your first home race ever. I don't think that's anything bad."

Charles felt really stupid at that moment.

"Are you jealous, my dearest friend?" Lando decided to intervene, who had been attentive the whole time to the intimate scene between the couple.

"What? No!" Leclerc replied as calmly as possible, his attempt in vain.

"Well, it seems quite the opposite to me," Norris said. "You should relax a bit. There's nothing wrong with your girlfriend talking to other drivers, even more so when she's preparing a party for you."

Il predestinato realized Norris was right and decided to calm down.You really didn't deserve the jerk behavior he was displaying at you at the moment.

"I guess you're right, Lando," he turned to you, timidly reaching for her hands. "I'm really sorry, Y/N, I shouldn't have behaved like that."

"It's okay, Charles. I understand that sometimes jealousy can be hard to control, I feel the same way sometimes about your fans, but I manage, not like you just showed me tonight!" you answer with a smile, hitting him in his arm.

Charles felt relieved to see that you had no interest in Lando beyond friendship and planning a failed surprise party in the process. Therefore, he just enjoyed the rest of the night with you, with his friend, and without having to worry about anything else.

[nahoney22]

One Night With Royalty***

🫧 Pairing: Prince Rex X Female Reader

word count: 3.5k

prompt:

“Can you be good for me?”

Summary: When the Prince Rex is admired by your beauty, he takes no time in taking you by your hand, offering you a dance and perhaps offering you a little more.

Warnings: NSFW, 18+ only. AU fic. Cinderella Inspired. Explicit Sexual Content and Language, Dirty Talk, Praises, Face Sitting, Oral Sex ie Cunnilingus, Creampie, P in V Sex, Soft!Dom Rex, Female Reader Wearing a Ball Gown (your choice of colour), Reader Flees at Midnight.

Authors Note: I loved this idea anon! Fitting with the theme of Cinderella I’ve also done it that Reader leaves at midnight same as the film for ✨ drama ✨ i hope this is okay and you enjoy 😊

Entering the palace was like stepping into a realm of enchantment. With each stride you took brought forth a spectacle of grandeur that left you breathless. At first, you thought maybe it was the mountain of stairs you just had to climb in heels that had the wind knocked out of you but it was the crystal chandeliers that illuminated the vast expanse of marble floors with a soft, ethereal glow that had you captivated.

The soft hue casted intricate patterns of light that danced in harmony with the melodies of the orchestra; an unfamiliar sound to you. Not only that, but the air was a symphony of laughter and conversation, carrying with it the mingling scents of exotic flowers from an array of different planets.

The sights of Princesses, Noble men, Senators, and Jedi alike moved gracefully, their elaborate gowns and finely tailored suits exuding an air of regal sophistication. Making you feel like you stood out like a sore thumb as you navigated through the ballroom. Holding onto your dress to avoid tripping over yourself, you couldn't help but marvel at the sight of sparkling tiaras and impeccably polished shoes from the guests.

Despite the overwhelming opulence surrounding you, a nagging doubt lingered in the back of your mind - "I so don’t belong here…"

With a twist of fate and defying your disapproving family who didn’t even want you here tonight, a stroke of luck shined your way. But you couldn’t even think about that right now. You just wanted to take this all in.

Though all eyes were eagerly awaiting the arrival of the Prince Rex - the main reason for the ball - your focus remained captivated by the beauty of your surroundings; caught in a reverie. It hardly felt real.

Overwhelmed by it all, you sought for a moment of calm in the serenity of the outdoors. The far left door beckoned, leading to a spacious balcony offering a panoramic view of the landscape bathed in the stunning glow of a deep purple sunset.

As you stood there, momentarily lost in the beauty before you, a voice shattered the tranquility, causing you to startle. Turning, your eyes widened in astonishment as the Prince himself stood before you.

The tales of his valour in the Clone Wars had preceded him, his attire matching the hues of his armor - a finely embroidered doublet of blue and white. And the praise regarding his looks was indeed warranted, as he was undeniably handsome. It felt like a crime to even look at him.

"Beautiful, isn’t it?" His voice was soft, his gaze kind as he regarded you.

"Yes, it is," you replied, your voice betraying a hint of nervousness as you instinctively dipped into a formal address, feeling suddenly small in his presence.

His smile was warm, his demeanor charming as he took a step closer, one hand casually tucked behind his back. "I hope you don't mind me coming to say hello. I noticed you when you entered and realised you were alone."

You struggled to comprehend how he could have singled you out amidst the bustling crowd, let alone why he would choose to engage with you. "Not at all, Your Majesty," you managed, your words tinged with a mix of surprise and admiration as you offered a quick curtsy.

He chuckles, laughter almost was infectious, his eyes sparkling with amusement as he drew nearer. "The pleasure is mine," he replied, his charm putting you at ease.

Stopping before you, he extended his hand with a gallant gesture. "Will you do me the honor of having the first dance with me?" he asked, his gaze unwavering.

Caught off guard, you stared at his outstretched hand, then back up at him, a mixture of disbelief and elation flickering across your features. "I...I would be honoured," you stammered, finally accepting his offer, your heart racing with excitement as you took his hand.

As the Prince led you back into the ballroom, this time to the dance floor, you couldn't help but notice the hushed gasps and murmurs that followed your entrance. You chew on the inside of your cheek as a sense of unease crept over you, a stark reminder of your perceived insignificance among the sea of nobility and royalty.

Sensing your trepidation, the Prince offered a comforting squeeze of your hand, his reassuring touch momentarily easing your nerves. With a subtle nod, he guided you to the center of the room.

As the orchestra resumed its melody, the Prince's gaze met yours. For a moment, there was a glimmer of something unmistakable flickering in his eyes. There was a hunger there, one that sent a shiver down your spine.

With each step, the Prince's presence enveloped you, his firm yet gentle touch guiding you effortlessly across the ballroom floor. As you stole glances at the onlookers, their reactions ranged from smiles of admiration to expressions of confusion and even disdain. You’re nervous, the weight of their scrutiny threatening to dampen your spirits, but the Prince's reassuring voice cut through the noise.

"Ignore them," he murmured, his breath warm against your ear. "Look at me."

You tore your gaze away from the judgmental stares, focusing instead on the Prince's intense eyes that seemed to hold a world of secrets. Yet, despite his attempt to shield you from the prying eyes of the crowd, you couldn't shake the gnawing feeling of inadequacy that lingered within you.

"I..." You hesitated, the words catching in your throat as you struggled to articulate the turmoil churning within your mind. "I can't help but feel... out of place."

The Prince's brow furrowed with concern, his grip on you tightening ever so slightly as he sought to understand your inner thoughts. "What are you thinking? If you do not wish to dance just say. I will not take offense," he observed, his voice tinged with genuine curiosity.

You swallowed hard, the weight of your insecurities threatening to overwhelm you. "It's just... I know why this ball is happening. You're seeking a companion, marriage. Someone who is worthy of your stature and position. And yet, here I am, dancing with you, unable to offer anything of value."

Your confession hung heavy in the air, the vulnerability of your words laid bare before him.

“So you are not a Princess or a Senator?” The Prince's unwavering gaze held yours, his question hanging in the air with a weight that made your breath catch in your throat. As more guests joined the dance, their attention momentarily diverted.

Summoning your courage, you met his gaze head-on. "No, Your Majesty, you are not mistaken. I am neither of those things."

For a moment, silence hung between you, the weight of your admission settling over the space like a heavy fog. Then, unexpectedly, he chuckles.

"May I tell you a secret?" His voice was low, conspiratorial almost. Anyway, it was enough to draw you in with its intimacy.

Intrigued, you raised an eyebrow, silently urging him to continue. "Of course," you replied, your curiosity piqued.

"I do not wish to marry. Not yet, anyway." His words were like a revelation, catching you off guard and causing your mind to reel with disbelief. "It is simply my duty. I did not want this Ball to take place knowing I had to marry a stranger."

The two of you danced more together, neither of you seeming to want the music to end. But there was something now different in the way he held you.

His touch was possessive, almost afraid that you were going to slip away from him at any point or have another man come and take you from him. His movements deliberate too, each step charged with an unspoken intensity that left you breathless.

The Prince's hold on you was undeniably suggestive, his every movement a tantalising invitation that stirred something primal within you. You felt foolish for getting so heated by him but there was a curious thought in your mind.

“Why have you asked me to dance with you if you’re not looking for something?”

Your question hung in the air, heavy with uncertainty, as you searched the Prince's eyes for answers. His hand, once intertwined with yours, now caressed your cheek with a tenderness that elicited an audible gasp from your lips, your eyes fluttering shut at the unexpected intimacy.

As his fingertips brushed against your skin, a rush of sensations coursed through you, igniting a fire that seemed to burn hotter with each passing moment in the bottom of your stomach. How could a simple touch evoke such a visceral reaction?

"Who says I'm not looking for something?" His words, laced with suggestion, sent a shiver down your spine, your eyes snapping open to meet his gaze once more. You saw the hunger in his eyes, a desire that started to mirror your own.

Heat rose to your cheeks, the feeling of his touch sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body. "I cannot lie and say that's not flattering," you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper as his hands trailed across your body with an intimacy that left you stunned.

Leaning in close, his lips mere inches from your ear, he whispered words that sent a jolt of electricity straight between your legs. "Have you ever been with royalty?"

With a sense of excitement, the Prince guided you through hidden corridors and secret passages, away from prying eyes and into the seclusion of his personal chambers. Each step was imbued with anticipation, yet you were eager to see what was to happen.

As he opened the door, granting you entry into his private domain, you couldn't help but marvel at the sight before you. The tapestries that draped the wall, the size of his bed… all of it. But before you could fully take in your surroundings, the Prince stepped up behind you, his hands finding purchase on your hips, his lips brushing against your ear in a gesture that sent shivers down your spine.

"Do you want to do this?" His voice, soft yet commanding, filled the room with an intoxicating allure that left you breathless.

"Yes, Your Majesty," you replied, your voice barely above a whisper, your desire evident in every trembling breath.

"In here," he murmured, his hands trailing down your back as he began to slowly, deliberately, undress you. Each touch sent shivers of pleasure coursing through your body that has your knees shaking, “you can call me Rex.”

As the fabric of your dress fell away, leaving you exposed in your corset and undergarments, a flush of heat flooded your cheeks at the Prince's appreciative gaze. "You are beautiful," he whispered against your skin, the warmth of his breath making your head roll back and rest in the crook of his shoulder. His lips found your exposed neck, gently kissing along your skin that makes you whimper under his touch.

Your body tingles with anticipation as Rex then led you to his bed. As he sat down, his gaze roamed over your form with a soft smirk, his eyes locking with yours in a silent exchange of desire.

Bringing your hand to his lips, he kissed over your knuckles softly that sent a jolt of electricity straight to your core. "Can you be good for me?" he whispered, his voice thick with lust.

“Yes, Rex,” you replied, your voice husky with longing. “Anything for you.”

"Good girl," he murmured, his words sending a thrill of anticipation coursing through you as he quickly undressed you until you were now fully nude, him following suit before he reclined on the bed, his eyes never leaving yours. The air crackled with tension as you crawled towards him, your movements deliberate and sensual.

As you drew closer, his lips met yours in a passionate kiss, igniting a firestorm of desire that threatened to consume you both. His lips were warm and delicious, tender and precise whilst his hands roamed over your body with an urgency.

But then, with a subtle command, he guided you into position, his gaze smoldering with desire as he whispered, "I wish for you to sit on my face."

A smile of anticipation spread across your lips, your eyes shining with desire as you straddled his face, feeling the heat of his breath against your skin. With a low moan of pleasure, you lowered yourself onto him, the sensation of his tongue exploring your cunt sent waves of ecstasy coursing through you.

"You taste so fucking good," he moans into your heat, his tongue working wonders as it explores every inch of your dripping arousal. Gripping your thighs firmly, he holds you in place, his determination evident in the fervour of his actions.

His hand roams upwards, teasing your sensitive skin until it finds purchase on your breast, kneading and pinching your hardened nipples. “R-Rex,” you whine beautifully, gazing down at him between your legs, his brown eyes staring back at you with desire as he sticks his tongue deep in your hole; the noises lewd, sloppy and messy

Feeling bold, you begin to move your hips, grinding against his face with increasing urgency. "That's it, ride my tongue," he encourages, praises, his words muffled by your slicked cunt that sends vibrations through your core.

You're on the brink of ecstasy after a few minutes, your body trembling. "I'm gonna cum, Rex," you moan, your fingers brushing against his buzzed-blonde hair as he pushes you closer to the edge with his expert ministrations.

"Go ahead, cum for me," he demands, his grip tightening as he doubles his efforts, pushing you over the edge into a euphoric release. With a satisfied groan, he laps up your essence, savouring the taste of your pleasure.

As you catch your breath, he guides you onto his lap, his solid cock pressing against you. "Are you ready for more?" he asks, his lips brushing against yours, his desire evident in the hunger of his kiss. “You’ve got such a beautiful pussy… I just need to bury myself inside you.”

Your mind is reeling from the intense pleasure coursing through your veins as Rex's lips devour yours, leaving you yearning for more. “Yes, yes fuck me please!”

He grins against your lips and flips you over, positioning himself above you, anticipation coils in the pit of your stomach. His cock presses against your slick folds, the size both intimidating and exhilarating. "You're so big, Your Majesty," you purr in desire.

"I told you," he replies softly, his breath hot against your skin as he begins to ease himself inside you, eliciting a hearty groan of satisfaction. "Call me Rex."

With each inch of his length filling you, a symphony of pleasure floods your senses, driving you to new heights of ecstasy. His hands grip the sheets beside you, his movements deliberate and controlled as he savours the sensation of being buried deep within you.

"Stars, you're tight," he murmurs. "It's been so long for me..."

You offer no words of reassurance, only the soft sounds of your moans and the tightening of your legs around him, urging him to delve deeper into each moan you make.

His pace starts slow but then quickens quickens, each thrust sending shockwaves of pleasure through your body. "You've got such a lovely cunt," he coos, his eyes locked on the intimate union between your bodies, his cock glistening with your slick arousal. "You feel so good."

"M-More, I need more, Rex," you whimper, your body arching against his, desperate for the relentless rhythm of his thrusts.

With a deep grunt, he obliges, his movements becoming more urgent and rough as he plunges into you with unrestrained passion. "Beautiful," he praises, his voice thick with desire as he loses himself, gazing into your brown eyes.

The room fills with the sounds of passion, the air heavy with the scent of sweat and lust. Your body is ablaze with desire, every nerve ending ignited by the intoxicating pleasure of Rex's touch. With each thrust, he elicits a chorus of moans and gasps from your lips, driving you to the brink of madness.

"Fuck, you feel incredible," he groans, his voice a husky whisper against your skin as he buries himself deeper inside you, face buried in the crook of your neck as he practically folds you in half. "So tight and wet for me, just begging to be fucked."

Your breath catches in your throat at his words, the sheer intensity of his desire sending shivers down your spine. "Yes, Rex, please," you whimper, your voice a desperate plea for more of him, more of the overwhelming pleasure he brings.

He responds with a sigh, his movements growing more urgent and desperate as he seeks to fill the hunger that consumes you both. "You're driving me crazy," he confesses, his voice raw with need as he loses himself.

You want more. You need more. "Harder, Rex," you beg, your nails digging into his skin as you urge him to push you further, to take you to the edge again.

With a fierce determination, he complies, his thrusts becoming one again rougher and more intense as he drives you towards the pinnacle of release. "You're so fucking beautiful," he growls, kissing your neck before resting his forehead to yours, locking gazes. “You look so cock-hungry.”

It was sudden, your orgasm hitting you like blaster-fire. With a shared cry of release, you surrender to the overwhelming tide of pleasure, your walls contracting on his cock.

You screamed his name, grasping at his body desperately as he gives strained grunt before he spilled deep inside you. He holds you tight, still slowly thrusting in and out, and you kept clawing at his back, murmuring incoherently.

Rex soon stops, staying inside you as you just laid there together, catching your breaths. “You are wonderful.” He murmurs, kissing your lips softly.

You smile lazily, your legs still twitching as you slowly come down from your high, gasping quietly as his softening cock slips out of you.

“May I draw you a bath?” As Rex offers to run you a bath, he covers you with a part of his duvet and you can’t help but feel touched by his consideration for your comfort, and a blush warms your cheeks at his respect for your dignity.

"I feel like I should be asking you," you chuckle softly, meeting his gaze. "After all, you are the Prince. But I'd like that, if you don't mind?"

"I would not have offered otherwise," he assures you, placing a tender kiss on your cheek before retreating into the refresher, the sound of running water filling the silence.

Alone in his room, you allow yourself a moment to reflect on the whirlwind of events that led you here. You had only wanted to have a bit of fun tonight, sneaking into the Ball without your family's knowledge and experiencing just splendor, only to catch the eye of the Prince himself. And what followed was beyond your wildest dreams. He had been kind, sweet, and utterly captivating.

But reality soon creeps back in, reminding you of the inevitable constraints of his royal obligations.

With a heavy sigh, your gaze lingered on a clock and your eyes widened as realisation hit. Time is slipping away and you must leave—fast.

Hastily, you gather your clothes, struggling to dress yourself. The intricate laces of your dress prove to be a challenge, and frustration mounts as the seconds tick by.

The sound of your hurried movements catches Rex's attention, and he emerges from the refresher, a quizzical expression on his face. "Is everything alright?"

"I..." you falter, meeting his gaze, the softness and confusion in his eyes tugging at your heartstrings. He looks almost like a wounded creature, not wanting to see you go. "I have to leave. But I've had the most magical night, Your Majesty."

As you turn to leave, a pang of regret grips you tightly. "Wait! I... I don't even know your name," Rex calls out, his voice laced with a hint of shame at his oversight, mentally cursing at himself for never asking. Supposedly it was because he felt like he did know you.

But time is against you, and you have no choice but to flee his chambers, leaving his question unanswered. With an apologetic glance over your shoulder, you bolt from the room, your heart pounding in your chest as you navigate the labyrinth passageways of the palace, praying you remembered the way he led you in.

Meanwhile, Rex scrambles to dress himself, his mind racing with thoughts of you. He curses his own foolishness for not asking your name sooner, knowing that now, you're gone, slipping through his fingers like sand.

As he races down the stairs of the palace, clothes askew and heart pounding, he scans the darkness of the night, searching for any trace of you.

All he has now are the memories of your eyes, the warmth of your touch, and the lingering scent of your lips to remind him of the moment you shared.

But Rex is determined. He will find you again, no matter the cost.

Masterlist

Tags: @littlefeatherr @kaitou2417 @eyecandyeoz @captxin-rex @jesseeka @theroguesully @ladykatakuri @arctrooper69 @padawancat97 7 @staycalmandhugaclone @ko-neko-san @echos-girlfriend @fiveshelmet @dangraccoon @plushymiku-blog @chrissywakingup @pb-jellybeans @nunanuggets @sleepycreativewriter @erellenora @zippingstars87 @ezras-left-thumb @the-rain-on-kamino @lamiliani @tech-aficionado @grizabellasolo @therealnekomari @tech-depression-inventory @brynhildrmimi @greaser-wolf @tinyreadersmur @kaminocasey @marvel-starwars-nerd @ladytano420 @ladyzirkonia @thesith @raevulsix @cw80831 @knightprincess @crosshairlovebot t @whore4rex @imperialclaw801 @temple-elder @mysticalgalaxysalad @yunggoblin @lulalovez @thiswitchloves9904

[j-ensenackles]

body language

pairing: la knight x fem!reader

summary: you celebrate with la knight after his money in the bank win.

word count: 1.7k

warnings: SMUT - DNI if under 18!

a/n: request from anon — thank you for requesting! i hate that this is lowkey an au since la knight didn't win mitb. happy for damien but knight deserved it! :(

It was his moment. Finally.

He straddled the top of the ladder, breathing heavily and holding the green briefcase high above his head.

LA Knight was the new Mr. Money in the Bank.

You watched him on the monitor, anxiously awaiting his return to backstage.

You were over the moon excited, feeling so proud that finally, his hard work was paying off.

Suddenly, he was there, pushing through the curtains and searching for you.

At the sight of him you ran, jumping into his arms and peppering his face with kisses.

“You did it! God, I’m so proud of you!” You said.

He laughed, spinning you around before kissing you deeply.

He set you down gently as he began to receive congratulations from everyone. A proud smile blossomed on your face as you watched him bask in the glory of a successful night. Your heart was so full of joy, you thought it might burst.

Due to you and Knight’s rigorous schedules, you didn’t get to spend a ton of time together. Especially in the past few weeks, with Money in the Bank overtaking all of yours and his time. But that time away from each other was worth it, you thought now.

Now, you were here with him. Now, you could have him all to yourself.

As the people congratulating Knight grew less and less, you made your way to his side, sliding your arm around his waist.

“Ready to get out of here?”

There must have been something laced in your tone because you noticed his eyes darken a fraction.

“Sure thing, doll,” his signature smile lit up his face.

You both made your way back to the hotel hand in hand.

The walk from the lobby to the room was comfortably silent, although a thrumming energy was building between you and Knight.

He unlocked the door using his keycard, ushering you inside.

The cool air hit you as you entered. You idled by the door, watching Knight place his Money in the Bank briefcase on the bedside table.

His gaze flickered to you, a spark igniting in them. A smirk tugged at his face, a sign he knew how desperate for him you were becoming.

“Got somethin’ on your mind, sweetheart?”

You made your way to him, sliding your arms around his neck.

“Just thinking of how proud of you I am. And thinking of ways we can celebrate,” you added coyly.

His eyebrow cocked, “Oh, yeah?”

You nodded, leaning in for a kiss.

His lips met yours eagerly. There was nothing tentative about the kiss. It was hungry, powerful, electric.

His hands found their way to your hips, pulling you flush against him. You felt his cock twitch, the beginning of an erection straining inside his jeans.

As the kiss deepend, your hands traveled down his chest, reveling in the taught, strong muscles just beneath his thin t-shirt. You needed it off. Now.

You tugged at the hem of his shirt, earning a chuckle from him.

“Eager, huh?”

You didn’t even reply, just continuing to hungrily kiss him.

He stepped back for a moment, pulling his shirt over his head. You felt a bit lightheaded from the sight of his bare chest, muscles still shiny from the oil he applied for his match earlier. The sight of him shirtless always made you dizzy.

He watched as you drank him in, eyes trailing from his broad shoulders to his chiseled biceps. Your eyes skimmed his strong chest, his rippling abs — six, if you counted correctly — and your breath halted as your gaze inched lower.

The light dusting of hair on his lower belly disappeared into his jeans, which were tighter than ever now that he was watching you so openly admire him.

A hungry, desperate sound escaped you as you imagined what was waiting for you.

It seemed Knight was just as impatient as you, for in the next moment he charged towards you, flipping you onto the bed.

Your head sank into the pillows as Knight climbed on top, kissing you with even more fervor than before.

“You drive me crazy when you look at me like that,” he panted, fingers grazing the hem of your shirt.

His light touches drove you crazy, causing you to be a mewling, moaning mess, desperate for more.

“Please,” you whined.

“Please, what? Use your words, beautiful,” he teased.

He was being an ass, teasing you. He knew exactly what you wanted.

“Just - just touch me,” you sounded desperate, but couldn’t care.

He laughed, a sultry sound that traveled straight in between your legs.

“Alright, alright.”

He took your shirt off, gently pulling it over your head. You watched with satisfaction as his pupils dilated at the sight of you in your bra.

“Jesus,” he breathed.

“Not quite,” you joked.

He shook his head, still in a stupor as he reached behind you, unclasping your bra. You arched up, making it easier for him to take it off. Once unclasped, he threw it to the floor without a second thought.

His groan was deep and guttural. He watched your nipples pebble and harden in the cold room.

His fingers lightly traced your nipple, sending the nerves alive. You were pretty sure you were shaking at this point, on the verge of begging for something more than a caress.

Suddenly, Knight lowered his head and his tongue darted out, tracing circles on your nipple. You gasped as he sucked it into his mouth with the perfect amount of pressure.

“Oh God,” you moaned.

Knight released, looking up at you with lidded eyes, “Not quite.”

He echoed you from earlier and if you were in a normal state, you would have rolled your eyes at him. But you were in no normal state.

He continued licking and sucking, moving on to the other nipple, leaving you a puddle of need under his tongue.

You forced his head up to meet yours, kissing him. You allowed his tongue to slip into your mouth as he deepened the kiss.

Your fingers traveled to his jeans, popping the button and sliding the zipper down. He detached from you again, kicking off his jeans to the floor.

You maneuvered his body so he was sitting on the edge of the bed and you kneeled on the floor.

Lust had completely blown out Knight’s pupils, and you felt heat burst under your skin as he looked at you as if you were the most beautiful thing in the world.

You slid his boxers down until his hard cock sprung from the confines. A bead of precum hung like dew on the tip, and you licked it, eliciting a moan from Knight’s lips.

You made eye contact as you licked up his shaft once, twice, three times and finally plunged his cock into your mouth.

“God, baby, that feels-“ he cut himself off with another moan, his words barely intelligible.

You bobbed your head up and down, slowly taking him deeper in your throat with each thrust.

His eyes were squeezed shut, his head thrown back in ecstasy. You’d paint him like this, if you could.

You hollowed your cheeks, keeping an even pace and flattening your tongue on the underside of him.

“Baby, you’re gonna make me-“ he groaned, and with what looked like extreme effort gently guided your mouth off him with a satisfying pop.

At your confusion, he added, “I want to cum inside you.”

New heat pooled in your core as you nodded, words escaping you.

You crawled back on the bed as he fully removed his boxers, digging in the nightstand drawer for a condom. Successful, he rejoined you.

He kissed you again, cradling the back of your head. He undid your jeans and slid them down your legs, your underwear following shortly after.

His thick fingers slid up your folds, gathering the slick that had gathered there.

“So wet for me and I’ve barely touched you,” he tutted, a teasing smirk on his face.

With one more pass through your slick folds, he inserted a finger into your entrance, testing you out. He slid in with ease. You welcomed the stretch, the fullness his finger provided you. But it wasn’t quite enough.

“More. Please,” you gasped, writhing around him.

“What was that? Couldn’t quite hear ya, doll.”

You groaned — out of frustration this time.

“Please, gimme more!”

He smiled at your desperation, easily adding another finger. You moaned as his two thick fingers pumped in and out of you. His fingers created just the right amount of friction.

He curled them slightly, almost hitting where you needed him most.

There was only one thing that could fill you the way you needed.

“Now, please,” you mewled and this time, Knight didn’t tease.

He removed his fingers, picking up the condom and tearing the wrapper. You took it from him, slowly and painstakingly rolling the condom onto his considerable length. When you hit the base you lay back down and he positioned himself at your entrance.

“Look at me, baby,” he cooed.

As you met his eyes, he thrust in, stretching you completely. He didn’t ease his way in like usual, this time bottoming out immediately. 

You moaned, satisfied with the way he filled you so completely.

Your gaze found his face and you watched in bliss as his face contorted, full of ecstasy.

He pulled out and thrust back in again, each thrust hitting the spot deep in your core no one could reach but him.

His hand found your aching clit, rubbing circles with a firm pressure. The bundle of nerves was already sensitive, and it only took a few strokes before the coil of heat in your belly began to tighten.

“Fuck, baby, I’m gonna-“

“I know,” Knight panted, “Cum for me, baby. Let go.”

His words sent you over the edge. That hot coil in your belly snapped, sending stars bursting across your vision. Your loud moans accompanied the sound of slapping skin filling the room.

Knight’s thrusts were becoming more erratic, sloppier. And finally, with a final grunt and thrust, he came. You felt the delicious sensation of his cock twitching, emptying inside of you. You held tightly onto his flexed biceps, watching as he came down from his high.

With a breath, he pulled out and you almost whined at how empty you felt. Getting up on wobbly legs, Knight discarded the condom and rejoined you in bed. He pulled you close under the covers, tucking you into his side.

“I love you, baby,” his words were filled with the feeling of contentment.

“I love you, too,” you sighed.

As he lay there in bed holding you, Knight chuckled to himself. Being Mr. Money in the Bank really does have its perks.

[nocturnalrat]

UuGH IVE BEEN HYPERFIXATING ON MILES MORALES LATELY S O

ITS SMUT B U T

Miles with a reader who wears his clothes often, wearing his shirt with nothing but panties underneath- sitting on his lap and messing with his fingers. And Miles just so desperately struggling to keep a conversation going when he can so clearly feel their warm against him

Hi anon, thanks for the prompt!

I used our OG Miles for this. Also: It’s their first time together, so he’s extra shy and awkward.

Warnings: Explicit content, y’all know the drill  

---

Miles had left a while ago to complete his evening patrol, and you were eagerly awaiting his return. You had started dating recently, and you were head over heels in love with him.

Having just stepped out of the bathroom, you felt refreshed and rejuvenated. The hot shower had relaxed your muscles and lightened your mood.

"Hey! I'm back -" a voice rang out, followed by a crash and a thump. You looked up to see Miles in his Spider-Man suit; he had tripped and fallen through the window.

"For a superhero, you're quite clumsy," you remarked.

He removed his mask, and you noticed his cheeks reddening. It wasn’t from exertion. "You're wearing my hoodie."

"Astute observation," you replied, sitting down on the bed. The oversized hoodie you were wearing reached your thighs. You loved wearing his clothes, even though they were too big for you.

You could feel him staring at your legs.

"You're not as discreet as you think," you said with a grin, and he jumped.

"What?"

"My eyes are up here, Miles." 

He looked like a deer caught in headlights. "Sorry," he muttered. Then he scrambled to the bed and dropped his head onto your lap. Parts of his suit were ripped.

"Did you get hurt?" you asked, your voice filled with concern as you ran your hands over the damaged areas to inspect them.

"Nah. I'm fine."

You cupped his face in your hands and gently pressed your lips against his. "Missed you," you whispered, "How was patrol?"

"Nothing special. Caught a pickpocket and stopped a robbery. The usual." He shrugged. "And how was your evening?"

Your hand roamed over his chest. "I’ve been thinking about you."

He shivered, despite the fact that you weren't even touching him directly due to the fabric of his clothing. He was always so sensitive to your every touch, which is why you loved running your hands over his body.

"I think about you all the time, too,” he said.

"Oh?” You smiled. “Thinking about what, exactly?"

He blushed. "You know - how you're doing, what you're up to... if there's something you need..."

"Mhm. What else?" 

He swallowed. "Um..." It was obvious he was thinking of something he didn't want to vocalize. “That’s it, I think.”

He must have been too embarrassed to say. It was fun to make him a red-faced blushing mess, so you deliberately turned away from him to lie down on the bed.  

As expected, he crawled next to you and rested his head on your chest, listening to your heartbeat.

"That's really all you think about?" you asked casually, intertwining your hands.

You could feel his body tense slightly. "Yup."

A boy his age, without ulterior motives? That wasn't very likely. "Tell me more about your day then.” You wanted to get him out of his shell.

You climbed on top of him so that you were practically straddling his lap. He looked up at you, cheeks flushed, lips slightly parted, uncertain and tentative. "Um..." He searched for the right words. You leaned over him, and his gaze shyly wandered sideways. "What was the question again?"

You gave him a quick kiss on the cheek. "What else did you do today besides capture a pickpocket, stop a robbery, and think of me?"

“I… Um… Physics. “

You couldn’t help but laugh. “Physics?”

“Yeah, uh. Homework.” He frowned, looking like he was struggling to think straight. “Electric current, resistivity, and Ohm’s law.”

“Sounds exciting. Tell me more.” You subtly tried to press your body against his. Since you were only wearing a pair of underpants and his hoodie, and since his suit was relatively thin, you hoped to mess him up enough that any rational thought would leave him.

You gave him another kiss on the cheek, and your lips moved to his neck.

"Um. Ohm's law states that the voltage across a resistor is directly proportional to..." His voice trembled, "to... to the current flowing through resistance..." He fell silent. You had taken his hands and placed them on your waist; you knew he would have been too shy to do it himself.

“Yeah? Is that all you know?” you teased with a grin.

Instead of continuing to talk, he stared at your lips.

"Miles?"

"Hah?"

"I asked you a question."

He blinked. "What question?"

Almost there, you thought.

“When do you use Ohm's law?"  

“You… uh.” He looked like his head was empty. His eyes were glassy, his pupils dilated. “Y-You use it to… to maintain the desired voltage drop across… across the electrical components in a…” The rest of the sentence was lost in a moan because you had started sucking on his neck.

You could feel the warmth that emanated from him. He had to force himself to hold back, you could tell by the desperate look on his face and the way he whimpered under your touch.  

"Take off your suit." He obeyed instantly. His slender torso revealed faint traces of muscles, a testament to the numerous fights he had participated in during the past few months.

Then he looked at you, his gaze lust-veiled, patiently waiting.

It dawned on you that he was waiting for permission, for instructions. 

Even now, in a state of lust and desire, he showed restraint and caution, as if afraid to do something you didn't want.

"What do you want, Miles?"

The question seemed to catch him off guard. "What do you mean?"

"What do you want to do?”

He looked at you questioningly. "Um... Whatever it is you want to do?”

You shook your head. "No." He finally had to learn to express his needs. "I want you to tell me what you want, regardless of what I think."

He hesitated for a moment, then said, "You. I want you."

"And how do you want me?"

Instead of answering, he suddenly grabbed you so fiercely that you landed on your back and he ended up on top of you. His hands wandered under your hoodie, and when you tried to take it off, he said, "No, leave it on. It suits you.” With one hand he squeezed your breast, with the other he grabbed your wrist and pinned it to the mattress.

Fucking finally, you thought. He’s finally doing what he’s been wanting to do for ages.

He was breathing heavily, and you could feel his growing hardness. Would he still be this reserved and self-controlled once you took things further?

"Have you ever imagined it?" you asked between his kisses.

"Fucking you?" He dropped his forehead against yours. "Yes, damn it. It’s the only thing I can think about when I touch myself. I almost lose my mind every time you wear my clothes."

Holy shit. You had never heard him talk so freely, so bluntly before. His excitement and arousal seemed to cloud his thoughts, because you knew he would never confess to these things in a sober state.

"Then why don't you?"

Your words made him groan softly. "You sure?"

"Miles." You tried to sound reproachful. "Do you have any idea how turned on I am right now?”  You took his hand and guided it downwards.

"Oh, wow." He sounded so genuinely surprised that you had to stifle a laugh. "You're wet."

"Duh."

“That’s –“ He blinked. “Wow. I had no idea.”

“Are you going to do something about it or what?”

He carefully fumbled his way forward with one finger, gently, trying not to hurt you. "Is that okay?"

"Miles." Your voice sounded almost like a whine. "More. Please."

He inserted a second finger, and began to move them slowly. But he was still so measured, so tentative, that it was driving you out of your mind.

So you took his hand and started rubbing your clit while simultaneously fucking yourself with his fingers. He watched you with his mouth open, full of awe and lechery.

“That’s how you do it,” you sighed, willing yourself to stop right before your climax because there was something else you wanted to do.

You fumbled around in your nightstand to pull out a condom. Before Miles could react with embarrassment, you ripped open the pack with your teeth and put it on in a quick and guided motion.

"Wha -" He gasped, startled. "You have condoms?"

"Of course. I've been waiting ages for this to happen."

"You serious?" He sounded stunned. "I had no idea!"

“Because you’re a dense idiot.”

He pouted. "Don't call me that."

"Make me.”

He didn't need to be told twice. The kiss that followed was hungry, desperate, lust-filled. He had wanted this for as long as you had.

You couldn't hold back a moan as he entered you.

“You okay?"

"Yes. But I'd feel better if you were a little rougher."

"I don't want to hurt you."

"You're not hurting me," you assured. "Come on, Miles, please. I'll go crazy if you don't."

He began to move faster; his hands found yours and he intertwined them.

"I love you," he said softly, "more than anything in this world." He gasped your name, followed by caresses, kisses, and a look so fond that your heart melted.

You both came at the same time.

His body fell to the side, exhausted.

"That was way better than I had imagined,” he mumbled with half-closed eyes.

"You should really learn to express your needs," you said.

"I don't want to pressure you into anything, though."

You gave him a kiss. "Communicating your needs to someone doesn't mean you're pushing the person to do something they don’t want to.”

He thought about it for a moment. "Okay," he said. "I love you."

"I love you, too."

[ghoultrifle]

I know it’s a bit early but I really hope we get some fan fiction of phantom celebrating Halloween for the first time

Thank you anon! I took this and kinda combined it with @p1nkcanoe's post here because i adore the idea of the abbey descending into chaos for two months a year. Also big credit to @marsohthree for her Phantom Halloween thoughts!

Here's 1.8k words of Phantom's first Halloween! This is somewhat based on unmasked Phantom but that's just because i never celebrated Halloween as a kid so he's all i have to go off asfhajghaldgh. Stick around to the end for a cute photo of Barbie and Ken! (also this is my first non-smut story and i'm a bit rusty, sorry!)

Phantom was practically vibrating with excitement, yes it was only September 1st but he’d heard today was the start of something called ‘Spooky Season’. Some people (Swiss) called it ‘Spoopy Season’ but that was silly because spoopy isn’t a proper word and it doesn’t even mean scary! 

The clock struck midnight, signalling the end of Summer and the start of two months of ghoul-induced chaos, Phantom was loving it. By the time the sun rose on the first of September, the walls of the Abbey were already covered in spray-on cobwebs and the glass panes in the doors stained with a bone-chilling red. Phantom had been the one to source the blood, having recently learned how to hunt with Cumulus; he absolutely was not a natural and the blood covering the walls had sprayed from the new ghoul after he mistook his tail for a rabbit.

All the ghouls from different disciplines of the clergy, including the band ghouls, collaborated on turning the Abbey into a hellfest, literally. They tried to recreate the atmosphere of the pit, only in the ghoul’s quarters of course, they’re not monsters. The mixed quarters, common areas between humans and ghouls, were turned into more of a haunted house with your typical Halloween attractions and scares.

Phantom couldn’t contain his goofy smile as he helped set up the mixed quarters, placing plastic spiders that he animated using his quintessence to occasionally scurry across the fake webs. He was dressed in a slutty devil costume, Rain dressed in the accompanying angel costume. Phantom’s red skirt barely covered his ass and his black mesh top matched his patchy painted nails. Rain was sporting a white miniskirt with thigh highs to match and a halo headband. Of course none of the ghouls needed to dress up, they could simply unglamour themselves, but it was more fun to do it this way.

The first ritual of the day was to carve the ministry’s pumpkins. After the hunting mishap, the pack decided Phantom was not to be trusted with a knife and was instead relegated to design and project management. He chose a bat design, of course, and carefully stood on his tiptoes watching over Aether’s shoulder as he carved out the flying creatures. Once the new ghoul was satisfied with his elder’s work he picked it up like a baby and would not let go, showing it proudly to everyone he met.

It got so bad he almost took it into the shower before Dew whisked it away, “Nuh uh lil guy, I am not cleaning pumpkin seeds out the drain. You can have it back after.” Dew proceeded to accidentally drop the pumpkin as he was walking back to Phantom’s room, startled by the motion-activated skeleton in the hallway. So instead of a pumpkin, the quintessence ghoul was met with a ‘forgive me?’ pair of bat plushies, it was love at first sight. They’re named Barbie and Ken and, yes, they're dressed in pink cowboy costumes.

Time passed as Phantom eagerly awaited The Day. In the meantime he’d often be found wrapped up in toilet roll, launching himself out of the shadows at passers by, trying to scare human members of the clergy and failing miserably, “Why aren’t they scared by my costume, Mounty?” he’d pout. “Well, you do it every morning so I think they know to expect you by now.” Mountain  replies. This only inspires the mischievous ghoul to up his scare game, his dream career being a scarer at a haunted house after the pack took him to Halloween Horror Nights.

The next day Aether and Omega had their work cut out at the infirmary as three clergymen were admitted for various fright-related conditions. Phantom bat-hung from the ceiling, the corpse of a freshly-hunted rabbit in his bloodied mouth, canines poking out as he smiled at the passing humans.

Phantom was forbidden from wearing anything other than normal clothes or slutty costumes from that point onwards.

In the days leading up to Halloween, the pack were sent on a trip to gather themed food for the ministry, Frankenstein crisps, ghost marshmallows, and of course sweets for trick-or-treaters. They thought it would be funny to let Phantom loose in the supermarket with just a list, the poor ghoul only just having learned how to read. “What’s this say?” Phantom asked excitedly, gasping for air as he ran back outside to where his pack was waiting, “Gummy worms, darling, you know the ones?” Cumulus replied the first time. Phantom nodded his head, skipping back into the store, only to jog back out minutes later.

“What ‘bout this one, Aeth?” He questioned, pointing hurriedly at the list. “Can’t see when you’re waving your hand around like that, Bug!” The older ghoul chuckled, moving Phantom’s hand away, “Ah, this is a tricky one. It says choco-late eye-balls.” Aether answers slowly as his hand traces the syllables on the paper. “If you can’t read anything else, just buy something spoopy!” Swiss shouts as Phantom shoots him a death stare from the store entrance.

It took five times as long as it would have taken if the pack joined Phantom, but the little guy enjoyed it too much for them to intervene. The ministry was now fully stocked, ready for the end of October.

Phantom awoke at 3am, the witching hour. His quintessence was tingling with the spirits of those below, rising for their day to shine. Today was the day. He restlessly walked to the kitchen, ready to eat despite the hour, to be met with a very tired Mountain. “Bug, what are you doing up? I thought we taught you how to read clocks?” he asked, still awake from the previous day. “Is Halloween Mounty! I couldn’t sleep any longer, too excited!”

Mountain sighed, clearly Swiss hasn’t been teaching Phantom how to tell the date as well as the time, “Tommy, it’s only the 29th of October, Halloween isn’t for another two days.” He frowned, upset for the eager ghoul. Phantom’s eyes began to water, tears instantly falling at the realisation, embarrassed and dismayed.

“Oh it’s alright, Bug, we can celebrate today if you’d like? Think of it as a practice!” Mountain replied frantically trying to abate the weeping ghoul. He pulled out his phone and texted the groupchat:

Mountain (3:06am): Ok ghouls change of plans… we’re celebrating Halloween today. Be ready :)

Dew (3:07am): huh? halpoween isnt todsy tho

Cumulus (3:07am): Yeah, what? What have you been meddling with Big Boy?

Mountain (3:10am): Phantom thought it was Halloween today and now he’s crying because it isn’t. I can’t bear to look at him like that so I told him we’re doing it today ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Mountain (3:10am): Not my fault btw! Someone (@Swisstopher) didn’t teach new bug how to read the date

Swiss (3:18am): …

Come sunrise, the pack was ready for the rootin-ist tootin-ist Halloween this side of October 31st. Mountain and Aether were dressed up as cowboys, basically an Arthur Morgan cosplay. Aurora wore Phantom’s devil costume with Rain still sporting the angel side. Dew and Cirrus were both zombies, full makeup (and a bit of unglamouring) making them look truly horrifying. Cumulus is wearing a sexy police outfit, because fuck the cops, right? And Swiss is shirtless, wearing a toilet seat cover with ‘Dracula’ written on it in sharpie, “I’m sexy dracula, OK?!”

Phantom was sitting on the edge of his bed, kicking his legs in excitement, ready to start the day. He was adorning a bat costume he made all by himself. It was a black cloth with eye holes cut out and some metal wire to make wings, Aether helped with that part.

They spent the day watching low-budget horror films and eating the Halloween goodies that they’d been saving for trick-or-treaters. Phantom was snuggled on the sofa right in the middle of the large ghoul cuddle pile, chirping happily as he realised how loved he was, his pack did this for him. They sat all day in their uncomfortable costumes just to give him the best not-Halloween ever, and it wasn’t even sundown yet.

Phantom sat by the front door, his tongue poked out as he tied his shoes, ready to go out. The whole pack was coming with him on his first candy hunt, except Dew, he’d gone on a smoke break and was taking so long they left without him.

Dew was, in fact, not on a smoke break. He was carefully knocking on the door of each house the pack was going to visit, “Hi! Yeah I know it’s not Halloween but my friend thinks it is, so could you just play along, please?” he asked, far too many times on behalf of what looked like a fully grown adult. Most of the houses complied, and the few that didn’t, well, Dew gave them a 20 and they quickly got on board. Nothing was going to ruin his Phantom’s night!

And so, one-by-one the occupants of the nearest village were met with a bedraggled Phantom in his homemade bat costume. “Trick or treat?” He’d shout, arms outstretched, holding a comically large bucket for the size of the ghoul offering it.

“Oh sweet thing, happy Halloween! I love your costume, did you make it yourself?” One old lady asked. Phantom nodded as he blushed and twirled to show off the wings. “Very impressive, young man. I think you deserve some chocolate for that, don’t you?” She smiled as she almost emptied a whole tub into Phantom’s bucket, his arms buckling at the weight.

The moon was illuminating the night sky, and the night was winding down. The young ghoul had long abandoned his candy bucket, simply too heavy for him to hold. They walked back to the abbey, Cumulus carrying the night’s haul while Swiss gave Phantom a piggyback, the quintessence ghoul’s legs sore from all the walking.

When they opened the front door, they were met with Copia in bat wings matching Phantom’s. He’d missed the day due to clergy commitments but wanted to show his support for his favourite ghoul. Copia guided them all to the common room where he’d decorated it as grotesquely as he could; bones everywhere, blood dripping from the ceiling, and various speakers playing spooky sounds.

Phantom plopped himself in the middle of the room, taking in the view and soundscape surrounding him as he ate the treats Cirrus left out for tonight, the rest stored safely away from the young ghoul. He couldn’t help but think how lucky he was to be in such a supportive pack. Oh boy was he ready for actual Halloween.

and they were roommates

[conelluwrites]

i reach for you on faith alone

Kokichi x AFAB! Reader

Kinktober Masterlist

Kinktober Playlist

Requested by anon

Song: Love You Want - Sleep Token

You try to respond, both because it's frustrating to hear his voice at such a time and because it's an automatic response to reply to his taunts.  All that comes out is a pitiful gag and the shame that comes from a massive amount of spit sliding down your chin into your awaiting hands.

Warnings: blowjob, facial, submissive!Kokichi at the end, typical shitty dom!Kokichi at the beginning, dubcon, aftercare in final paragraph

Kokichi’s knuckles are harsh white as he tugs your hair eagerly, with extremely limited care for your pain grunt as he fucks himself against your face.  If he was any other person, you’d give him a quick nip or slap his thighs, but you know both of those options will just spur him on to use you further and laugh.

“Oh?” He says, his breathing so heavy that it must be edging on painful as he struggles to keep his eyes open to look at you between his legs, “Are you uncomfortable or something?”

“What a shame…” He says, releasing your head but thrusting his hips upwards against your stinging face.  He opts to pat your head condescendingly, tsking softly and then moaning lowly. “It’s not polite to talk with your mouth full, y’know.”

You try to respond, both because it's frustrating to hear his voice at such a time and because it's an automatic response to reply to his taunts.  All that comes out is a pitiful gag and the shame that comes from a massive amount of spit sliding down your chin into your awaiting hands.

You grunt in response, rolling your eyes the best you can and raising your spit-covered hands to gently caress his balls.  The sooner he’s done, the better- not because you hate giving head but rather because your jaw is hurting, your face is stinging, and if he keeps up his labored breathing he’ll probably end up passing out. He almost whimpers at the sensation, biting his lower lip and gripping your hair again.  You grin around his cock, more saliva sliding down your chin to the floor.  He looks so… perfect like this, his cheeks flushed from arousal and his hair sticking to his face with his teeth biting his bottom lip so hard that it seems like it should be bleeding, his violet eyes trying desperately to stay open to look down at you- at his perfect girlfriend that he simply adores.

“I’m gonna ch-choke you with my cum.” He stammers out, struggling to keep up his persona and failing miserably.  “I want to see you cough it out, my perfect slut.”  You practically choke on his cock from his complimentary degradation, making him groan and his legs tremble.  You have other plans though, of course, than to cough or spit out his cum.  It’s partially payback for his hard domming, partially just because you love the sound of his whimpers and whines.

You blink when he taps your head, giving you a minimal warning before his hot cum floods your mouth and slides down your throat.  You struggle to not cough and gag against his cock as he keeps himself in your mouth as he pants and his hands tremble on your head.

After he lets out a shaking sigh, he attempts to move your head away and that’s your signal to grasp his hips and close your eyes, bobbing your head at a teasingly slow pace while he shudders before tapping your head again so you open your eyes and look up at him.  His lips are parted and if it was possible, you’d shove your fingers in his mouth and give him the same treatment he gave you.

“Hey, what are you doing!” He whisper-shouts at you, swallowing thickly as though he’s about to drool.

You pop his aching cock out of your mouth long enough to respond, “Just having some fun, relax.”  You see your words make his eyebrows furrow as though he’s about to call you out, but before he can you hollow your cheeks as you take him in your mouth once again.  It’s hardly fair, but when is anything fair when it comes to Kokichi?  His whines and whimpers flood your ears as his hips instinctively start to move before stopping from the all too pleasing (and now bordering on painful) sensation of your tongue rolling over the bottom of his cock.  You’re not even sure what exactly you’re hoping for as an end result- maybe just to see how long you can push your boyfriend until he gets fed up and pushes you away?  He tugs your hair desperately, even he’s unsure if it’s to make you stop or let you know to keep going, his teeth digging into his bottom lip like he’s holding in a loud moan (but given the whines escaping, you doubt it’d do much good if that’s the point.)

“I-I seriously can’t with you” He stammers out, his breath desperate and heavy as his hand goes from your hair to pop himself from your mouth and jerk his overstimulated dick like he’s life depends on cumming again.  It doesn’t take long, maybe just his thumb running over his slit twice before he lets out a sharp cry, tears forming in the corners of his eyes as he paints your face with his release.  He’s a sniffling mess by the time he’s even realized he’s spent, as though he’s on the verge of genuinely crying.  

You grimace at the fact you’re going to have to wipe his cum off of your face with your shirt, but you toss it to the side afterwards and stand up, gently pushing him backwards on the bed and wrapping your body around his form.  He’s not upset, if anything he knows it’s some sort of payback for all the times he’s pushed you like this.  You practically coo soft words in his ear, wiping what little tears have fallen past his eyelashes and down his pinkened cheeks, asking him if he’s okay, if you pushed him too far, all things he’s never been too careful to ask you afterwards (but you know he holds care for your own personal enjoyment even when he uses you like a cheap fleshlight).  When he responds that he’s fine and yawns, you can’t help but grin and nuzzle against his cheek.  Looks like neither of you will be getting dinner anytime soon.

[callsign-phoenix]

I wrote this for a lovely anon, I hope you like it!

It is a Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw x female!reader x Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin imagine.

Thank you @footprintsinthesxnd for proofreading!

Warnings: bad pickup lines

“So? Who’s it going to be?” Jake asked while both he and Bradley stared at you expectantly.

Your heart was racing and your mind was running a thousand miles an hour, trying to come up with a decision that you simply couldn’t seem to make.

It had taken months to lead up to this moment and you had more than enough time to think of the fact that both Lieutenant Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin and Lieutenant Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw were competing for your attention.

You spent a lot of time at the hard deck simply because your job demanded it from you, you were a bookkeeper for several businesses around the area, including Penny’s, and your favorite way to finish a day was with a drink in hand to help you relax.

Rooster had noticed you first, just before the evening crowd set in, sitting at the bar and enjoying a beer after your work for Penny.

He had come up to you although the bar was almost empty, putting on his signature grin and giving you his best pickup line.

He leaned against the bar facing you, his eyes roaming your body before they returned to your face.

“I had no idea angels existed at this altitude,” he said and his face fell into a serious expression, with just the hint of a gleam in his eyes.

The moment the words left his lips your head fell back and you let out an amused laugh, one that only made Rooster fall harder.

You allowed him to sit down and the two of you spent the evening talking, much like the ones after that.

While Rooster was flirty and looked at you in a way that made your heart flutter you became friends, just talking and jokingly flirting around.

Jake had approached you just like Bradley had, while you were sitting at the bar and grinning his most confident grin.

The two of them were more similar than either of them realized because he too used his best aviation chat-up line on you.

“Do you want to become a pilot? Because I’ll show you how to control my joystick if you do,” he said with the sleekest grin you had ever seen, sending a rush of heat through you as you spit out some of the beer you had just sipped while laughing.

It wasn’t exactly the most attractive action on your part but the way you laughed and tried to dry the spill of beer off your chin and the counter mesmerized Jake.

You shook your head in playful annoyance but let him sit down beside you.

Over time you saw Bradley and Jake pretty much every day, growing attached to the two of them.

They seemed to alternate between who got to talk to you, seldomly doing so at the same time.

You spent months like this, with both of them vigorously flirting with you, and with you just being kind back.

It was frustrating to watch and for the two of them as well, which was why they approached you.

You couldn’t say you hadn’t thought about being with either of them and you felt giddy at being with them, yet mortified at having to choose.

The moment the question left Jake’s lips an icy shiver ran down your spine, immobilizing you and stopping your brain from working.

“I think you’ve kept us waiting long enough, and we’ve made our intentions clear from the get-go. Which one of us do you want?” He continued, leaving you time enough so the shock could thaw off of you.

The two men stood in front of you, towering over you, their shoulders almost touching as they awaited an answer.

Bradley’s arms bulged below his Hawaiian shirt as he folded them in front of his chest and Jake’s eyes bore into yours, waiting eagerly for your reply.

Your mouth felt dry and your heart was racing as you looked from one aviator to the other.

Your mind short circuited and you landed on an answer you didn’t know if you liked all that much.

“I choose you both,” left your lips before you could stop yourself, and a feeling of anxiety settled in your body.

You didn’t think that they’d be happy about your reply either but you half wanted to see how they reacted, loving the way they both reacted to your joking teasing.

In contrast to what you initially thought they simply turned their heads to exchange looks before similar grins formed on their faces when their eyes returned to your face.

“Right, okay, your place or ours?” Bradley asked, and your eyes went wide.

tagging: @starkleila @mayhem24-7forever @green-socks @letsfvckingdance @shadeds-library @a-reader-and-a-writer @yespolkadotkitty @whateverbagman @neptunes-curse @sweetheartlizzie07 @top-gun-rooster @iloveprettyboysblog @ateliefloresdaprimavera @imjess-themess @littlebadariell @angstyjellybean @marchingicenotes7 @midget713 @supernaturaldawning @gspenc @adorephina @gigisimsonmars @pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy @bespinnn @oliviah-25 @malindacath @aerangi @kassieesworld @kwanimations @18crazybutcutealsopsycho @marvelandotherfandomimagines @luckyladycreator2 @mavericksicybabe @kendra-rose @desert-fern @mavrellover91 @allivingstone01 @rhettabbotts @withakindheartx @trikigirl271 @cherrycola27 @natasharomanoffisbaebby @bonitanightmxres @ratcatcher2world @glowingtree @wingmanvenus @classyunknownlover @kmsryles343 @tipsykeen

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[bastardsblood]

29. “Stop giving me that look! Stop looking at me as if I’m a monster!”

ohohohohehehehe I wonder if Kieran became a yandere, would him being pushed to the edge mean he'd want some 'control' the same way he did when he tortured people? Or if his s/o found out abt what he'd done, perhaps he wouldn't want them to see him in such a way when he's in denial about partially enjoying torture!!!

Hello! I'm sorry for the long wait. I really enjoyed writing for this prompt, but I feel like I still could've done better...! Furthermore, this is unedited, so there may be grammatical mistakes. I hope that you'll enjoy this fic nonetheless, anon.

Character(s): Kieran Scenario: Prompt request Content Warnings: Yandere, mentions of violence

You knew Kieran since you were young. 

A small frame against your taller one, she was a notable presence in your life ever since the news of your engagement arrived. She was quiet, obedient, and pretty; everything a nobleman could ask for, and yet you weren't really sure you liked her. She'd laugh when it was appropriate to do so and always gauged your reaction anytime she spoke. She'd link her arms with yours, walk your pace and listen to you talk about topics you were certain she wasn't interested in. 

Despite being aware of her existence, you didn't know much about her as a person. Her mother always praised her, so your parents did as well, which caused you to hold her in high regard too. It was a chain reaction, but although everyone spoke nicely of the young lady, nobody commented on her peculiarity. She held close to no personality and always looked in her mother's direction for guidance anytime you asked her a personal question. You were rather a mean teenager, and so you'd do these things often just to get a reaction out of her. 

Eventually, small bits of someone who was hidden behind the mask of a demure lady started peeping in. At first, she'd drop subtler signs she liked something, even admitting she was fond of it. Later on, she got courageous enough to talk about things that piqued her interest, so long as you were a distance away from her mother. 

You were starting to like her, you thought. She was innocent, sure, but her curiosity warmed your heart. You wanted to help her flourish and improve, preferably by your side. 

Her mother had no qualms against you wanting to spend more time at their estate. She seemed happy, satisfied. Her eyes scanned her daughter as if she were an art critic appraising their favourite art piece, more so focused on the beauty than what lied underneath. 

Your stay at the estate was fine. You talked to Kieran, had dinner with her and her mother, studied, slept. It was fine, it truly was—save for the strange sounds you'd hear from time to time. You seemed to be the only one to hear them, as both Kieran and her mother denied hearing anything. Asking the servants wasn't an option, as the lady of the estate had banned you from speaking to them. 

Still, they persisted, and so did your growing curiosity and dread. 

—

After your stay was over, you and Kieran hadn't seen one another for a long time. 

You'd send each other letters. Your family was overjoyed, talking about you two as lovebirds, and you hated that you couldn't really deny it. You liked her, maybe even loved her, and writing letters was less of a chore and more an enjoyable pastime. You'd eagerly await her letters, smiling anytime you held one in your hand. While they still stayed respectful, you were less formal with your writing style and wrote even about mundane things. Kieran seemed to enjoy that, and both of you would send a reply to a letter that'd just arrive earlier on that day. 

But, her replies started getting messier. You didn't assume much of it until each letter looked more frantic than the last. It was like talking to a person who was being kept at gunpoint, unsure and desperate. Her handwriting was clawed and not at all elegant as before, but she'd still persist in stating that she was in good health. She'd ask more and more questions about you, but be vague about her own life. 

A part of you thought she was getting sick of you, no longer finding you novel, but her desperation to know about you was strange. It seemed as if she was clinging onto you as if you were her anchor or her only pathway to the outside world. She started asking about recent events or the weather, as if she wasn't able to check herself. 

You started to understand the situation more when you met her again. Your 'fiancé', but definitely not Kieran. 

—

She looked similar, but she was fundamentally different. 

She was stiff and awkward, as if she wasn't used to talking to you. Her appearance changed, her eyelashes were shorter than before, her beauty marks misplaced, her lips thinner. Only someone who hasn't met Kieran before would think that this was Lady Castemont's daughter. 

You missed your Kieran. You condemned her mother. 

—

Lady Castemont's mouth was shut tight at first, until you offered her a couple of your maids. 

You weren't stupid, you knew the rumours surrounding her. A wolf in sheep's clothing that barely kept things hidden, a sadist who liked torturing others, including her daughter. Giving your maids to her finalised their fate, but your selfishness won over your conscience. 

She told you you'd be disappointed if you saw Kieran now, but you begged to differ. She told you you'd come to hate Kieran, but you didn't listen to her. She told you you'd been lied to, but your heart remained unflinching. 

In the end, she was correct. 

—

Kieran was a man. The one who you loved was a man. 

Her—his—build was more defined and muscular than before, his shoulders more broad and his Adam's apple protruding. This was undeniably a man's body, always has been a man's body, and yet you didn't notice after all this time. His long hair was gone, cut down to a boy-ish cut. His hands were bonier and longer, his nails bitten down to the point of blood. His chest was as flat as his stomach, and his reproductive organ was akin to your own.

"Did you think I wouldn't have found out?" 

You asked him, but it was a rhetorical question. "If we actually got married, would I have the pleasure of finding out about it then?" You spat out. 

"I didn't mean to deceive you—I'm so sorry, I—she made me—" His voice hitched in the middle of his sentence. He looked absolutely pitiful and broken, and despite your disgust, you felt nauseous at the fact you were making him feel this way. "I didn't want to lie to you, I promise, I-I, promise." 

"I defied my family for you, I offered that wretched devil my servants for her to toy with—for you." You wanted to scream, to rant, to vent. You weren't even angry at him, but his godforsaken mother. She must've been laughing the entire fucking time you were seen rose-eyed around her son. She made you care for him, and then replaced him the second it started to get harder to cover his secret up. Worst thing is, your affection was not even gone. His body repulsed you, but you desired to touch it nonetheless. It was filthy, disgusting of you to think this way, and yet—

"I still want you." You let out a despairing, shrill laugh. "I still want you! Haha!" 

He looked at you so unsurely yet so hopefully that you wanted to kick him. You were going through all of this anguish because of him, and yet a part of you thought it all to be worth it. "You… You're also a victim, aren't you? The sounds I heard at your estate were your screams, weren't they?" 

Kieran's brow twitched, but he eagerly nodded. He was on his knees, covering his body with only his hands, and you decided that it was enough. You unclipped your cloak and put it around his shoulders. And, although it tasted like venom on your tongue, you whispered an apology to him. 

—

You took him in as your servant, no matter how humiliating it must've been for a man of his station. 

He was surprisingly good at his job, especially when it came to things that required a delicate touch, and you were returning to what you would've called peaceful days. Your family was still at odds with you for sacrificing your family's maids to that devil, but things were calming down. Not one person but you knew that the true Kieran was right under their nose. 

You barely interacted with him during his work, but the man would slip into your chambers after everyone had gone to sleep. It felt like meeting your childhood crush again with how unsure he was acting at first. He grew more bold, just like back then, but this time his personality acquired a cocky and self-assured edge. You'd call him annoying, but if you did, you were sure he'd go back to being a lifeless doll. 

He'd complain about the other servants and other mundane stuff, mentioning everything but anything relating to his mother or home. It was a taboo topic, best to not revisit again, and you both understood that. Still, his eyes would sometimes look into yours and search for something there, often letting out a soft sigh after he'd found it. 

—

Neither of you mentioned your indirect confession again, but Kieran was definitely touchy. 

He'd hold your hand 'just because' and look at you shyly through his eyelashes or be all over your personal space like he couldn't get enough. You felt conflicted, finding it both pleasant and uncomfortable, but if the man noticed the latter, he didn't show it. 

You wanted to see him as a friend rather than… whatever you saw him as before. You were still the family's future heir, and letting previous attachments hinder you would do you no good. The engagement between you and 'Kieran' was still considered as good as done, but the actual Kieran's face would morph into anger anytime he'd hear any mention of it. 

During those days, he'd become a lot more possessive and touchy. He'd be snappy at the other servants during the day, and then look as if he was barely containing himself around you at night. There was some sort of tension when you were alone, and you weren't so ignorant as to not notice what kind it was. 

The first time you did it was the day your family was discussing your trip to the Castemont's estate in the future week. You drank, and so did Kieran, who was hilariously a much weaker drinker than you. You laughed and leaned closer to him, enough to feel his breath, and before you realised what you were doing, you were licking his lower lip and sliding your tongue into his mouth. 

Kieran reciprocated, wildly claiming your body with his hands. He held onto your shirt so tightly it surely wrinkled, pulled at your neck to kiss him deeper so roughly that you got reminded he actually had some strength, and moaned your name like a mantra once you pushed him onto your bed. 

When you awoke the next morning, you strangely didn't regret any of it. 

—

"And so, they expect me to stay at their estate for a couple of weeks. Said that I needed an 'appropriate' amount of time to bond with my fiancé." You sighed. "They make me sick." 

Kieran stayed silent as you were getting ready for the day, but you could feel his disgruntled glare on you. Without turning around, you huffed in amusement. "Don't look at me like that, I've got no say in this." 

"I know, I know, ugh. Are you sure I can't come with you?" As if realising what he just said, Kieran bristled. 

"To your former home? Would you really like that?" You approached him and kissed his forehead, "I frankly doubt it." 

Kieran's cheeks reddened and he sputtered a few incoherent words before just giving you a half-hearted accusatory look. You gave him a cheeky grin, but then schooled your expression into a calmer one. "Furthermore, I'd hate to see you go back to that place… Especially with what your mother did to you." 

There were no visible scars on his body, but you were sure it was simply because his mother had been meticulously prepared to cause as much pain as possible without any lasting evidence. You never asked Kieran about the details and you didn't even want to. Those moans of pain you heard still haunted your memory. 

Clearly, they did Kieran's as well, as he immediately stiffened. "Ah, y-yeah. I don't have the best memories there—" he cringed, "—but! The hell am I supposed to do here for weeks without you? Your annoying sister keeps giving me dirty looks, as if I'm somehow beneath her."

"Well, technically, you are." You reminded him with a laugh. "Plus, for a servant, you don't always act how a servant should. Don't think I haven't heard of how you served her lukewarm tea and then blamed it on her for losing track of her time until it was no longer delicious." Of course, he acted like a gentleman around you and your parents, as if he enjoyed serving you in any way he could. Still, your sister would talk your ear off about how much he irked her. It was funny. 

"I know nothing about it," he innocently batted his eyelashes at you, linking his hands together and hugging them against his cheek. "She should show more restraint as a future lady and her embroidery is simply horrendous. And, her room—what is up with those design choices? Does she intend to torture my eyes? An eye for detail is not an ability she possesses." 

"I don't think her room looks that bad…" 

"Oh, my dearest lord, just because she's your kin, you need not lie." Kieran raised his brows at you, confident in being right. You raised your hands in defeat. 

Still, you were avoiding the main topic at hand, and both of you were aware of it. With how Kieran would occasionally throw you unsure looks and pick at his clothes, you knew he was anxious. "Don't worry, nothing bad will happen. It's just a couple of weeks and then I'm back." You tried to reassure him, but you didn't think it worked. 

"But she's there." His voice sounded so cold it froze you in place. "She's there, and she'll try to win you over. She's going to be near you and touch you. She's going to have long hair and pretty dresses and you'll have dinner with her. She's going to link her arms with yours and make you go on walks around the estate gardens. She's—"

"She's not you." 

You felt disturbed by his increasingly venomous tone, but you knew leaving now would only make him spiral more. In situations like these, you were a bit scared of Kieran, with him acting as if he were a step away from going off at the deep end. 

"She's not the one I like." 

He stopped scratching the skin on his wrist and looked up at you. He blinked away any remains of whatever it was and the fog in his eyes turned into clarity. "You like me," he said, as if he couldn't quite believe those words, "ah, well, it was obvious because of, you know, but—" Kieran stumbled over his words before averting his face away from you, "... I like you too." 

You grinned and ruffled his hair, ignoring the weird pit in your stomach telling you there was something wrong. 

—

'Kieran' wasn't a bad girl. 

She resembled the actual Kieran and although there were certain differences, she still made for a fine copy now that she had grown more. She was demure, somewhat bashful, but also noticeably nervous around him. As if she was feeling guilt for something she had no real control over. 

She reminded you of your first—and, well, current—love with her behaviour. Both seemed lifeless yet had a personality of their own eager to rebel whatever evil the lady of the estate was putting them through. You wanted to ask her for her actual name, but you thought better of it. You had an inkling she'd feel like she failed somehow, as if she wasn't the perfect replacement, even though it wouldn't be the case. 

In a way, you wanted to protect her. She had been dealt a bad hand in life, having been unfortunate enough to be chosen by the devil herself. You couldn't do much, but you at least wanted for her to feel at ease around you. 

It was strange, really. You felt like Kieran made you a better person in the long run. You never truly cared for who one might consider weak before, thinking them to be a hindrance, and yet now you went out of your way to give them your sympathies. Eager to ease them off of their pain, you wanted to be their confidant and a friend. 

And, maybe, you had the intended effect on 'Kieran'. She smiled more often around you, and there was some healthy red to her cheeks rather than her deathly pale disposition. When you brought up the topic of books, she even confessed to having read a couple of them in secret, to which you laughed.   

You started to regret not having brought Kieran with you, despite it being a selfish thought. His vile hatred towards this girl was unwarranted, and a part of you wished he'd come to eventually like her. Just like him, she did nothing wrong. 

Still, as you were around 'Kieran', you started to miss certain parts of the relationship you had with the original before. Sweet like honey on good days, intense like a storm on bad ones; that's how you'd describe the current Kieran. He was… Intense to say the least. You liked him, you were sure—you had to like him. The strong sense of responsibility you held over his emotions and safety had to be love. Feeling guilt after feeling a hint of relief and freedom due to being away from him had to be love. 

Because love was the only compensation you could offer to a victim. 

—

You expected Kieran to be happy at your return. 

When he saw you, he dropped everything he was carrying and ran towards you despite how suspicious his behaviour to others was. He seemed desperate to touch you, if only to confirm that you were truly back. It was as heartwarming as it was uncomfortable.

The other servants were glad to see you back, greeting you with polite smiles and sometimes even waves. Greedy as ever, your sister immediately started pestering you about the whereabouts of her gifts. You had learned the hard way that spending money on at least a carriage worth of gifts was the only way to appease her anger. 

You had a gift for Kieran as well, a more personal one. When you whispered that into his ear when no one was watching, his posture stiffened and you could quickly sense his reddening face with growing amusement. For the duration of the day, Kieran seemed almost star-struck to have you back in the estate again, hating anytime his duties called for his presence elsewhere. His longing looks that he'd turn to mean-spirited glares at anyone who'd dare point them out were truly something.

You had a feeling both of you were looking forward to the evening. 

—

Kieran went to your personal chambers earlier than you'd like, especially because not all servants were free from roaming the halls. Still, with a bit of half-hearted admonishment, you let him off the hook. 

"Just be more careful next time, alright? I don't want to doubt you, but considering how… Distracted you were today, I'm a bit wary about you simply making a beeline towards my room without checking your surroundings first." Although you wanted to seem nonchalant, a bit of worry did seep into your voice, which made Kieran immediately clear his throat. 

"There's nothing for you to worry about, geez." Kieran mumbled, playing with his cravat. "I put more care into coming here undetected than into my morning routine—which you're surely aware I take very seriously—and so doubting me on this is more of an insult than anything." He stretched his hand in a circle motion, giving his voice an authoritarian pitch. Despite being a servant, he confidently sat himself across you as if it were only natural. Well, you supposed it was. 

That arrogance of his would one day be his downfall, you thought. Despite your slight annoyance at his antics, you calmed down by reminding yourself his eagerness today was only due to his relief at you coming back home. It felt strangely funny, in a way. Feeling like a husband under the suspicion of cheating despite only having visited a friend. You stifled a giggle. 

You leaned your face closer to Kieran's and kissed his forehead. "Yes, yes, do forgive me for my earlier comment." You couldn't help but enjoy the shit-eating grin that appeared on Kieran's face alongside a blush. It made you grin back at him. "Well, how have you been? Surely my absence hasn't robbed you of all opportunities to have fun?" 

Kieran moved his head to rest his forehead against yours and groaned. "It has. I've been extremely bored; it's not like my job is fun." Bored, and extremely grumpy, from what you've heard. He'd snap at his fellow servants for the slightest of mistakes and act like a cruel godmother to those submissive enough to bully. 

Not wanting to bring up his mean streak, you instead huffed in amusement and closed your eyes in content. You stayed like that for a while, until you felt a hand tilting your head up and simultaneously felt another hand pulling you even closer. Despite how the table awkwardly dug into you, you let Kieran lap his tongue at your lips before sliding it inside into your mouth. Possessive would be the best way to describe the kiss; it was swallowing and overwhelming. Kieran would only leave you short breaks when he'd need to catch his breath. 

Suddenly, you felt Kieran push you back against your arm chair. You were slightly surprised by his action, but understood everything once he circled around the table and seated himself on top of your lap. You guessed he was far too frustrated to deal with another obstacle in your way. "You're going at things a bit too fast today, aren't you?" You teased him as your arms found their way around his waist. 

His response was a lick at your now-exposed neck and a grumble that you made out to be a 'shut up'. You leaned back against your armchair and fully discarded yourself of your cravat. You supposed you could humour him for a while, at least until he'd gotten adequately satisfied. Back home from a long trip, you couldn't exactly say lust alone would be able to provoke you into having a night of passion. A good night's sleep was more tempting. 

Kieran's hand travelled down your body, squeezing your chest and waist as he went. Meanwhile, his licks started to alternate between soft kisses and harsh bites, both earning you a pleasant sensation. Still, when his hand reached your pants, you knew this was getting a bit too out of hand. 

"The… Mm, the gift." 

It was the first excuse that came to your mind. You had to repeat yourself after Kieran promptly ignored you the first time, the cheeky brat. Hopefully the gift would distract him enough that he'd leave you alone for tonight and you could make it up to him tomorrow, or the day after that. It's not easy to predict when your sister would decide to hog you for the day, after all. 

"It really can't wait?" Kieran's plea came out more as a whine than anything, but you didn't relent. 

"I was really looking forward to giving it to you. It's a rather personal gift." 

Kieran looked like the best gift you could give him now would be to shut up and continue letting him do as he pleased, but he eventually bit the inside of his cheek and got off of your lap. He crossed his arms and leaned against the wall as he waited for you to come pick it up from your nightstand. 

"Here," you showed him a small box, "open it." 

Kieran rolled his eyes but took the gift into his hands. He raised his brows. "That's your crest." 

What he was holding was a nicely embroidered crest on top of soft fabric. There were some loose threads here and there, but they were few in number. It was still quite visible that whoever made this poured their heart into it. And, looking at Kieran's confused but appreciative gaze, he must've felt it too. 

"You had to discard your own crest by coming here, so I wanted to give you mine." You explained. "While I can't publicly declare you as a part of my family, I, ah, still wanted you to know you're as important to me as they are." 

Kieran looked down at the handcrafted gift, and then back at you. Despite hating it if anyone pointed it out, he was a surprisingly sentimental boy. He seemed torn between saying thank-you and lashing out at you for not getting him more expensive gifts, but something tugged at his brain. "Still, who did you commission to make this? It couldn't be you who made this—obviously—but a skilled embroiderer wouldn't have made mistakes in the stitches like this." 

"Oh, it was 'Kieran'." 

Kieran immediately stiffened, but you tried to calm the situation. "She personally made this for you—she's not a bad girl, you know." You bit your lip for a second before continuing. "Your mother destroyed both your and her life; she is the one to blame for everything. And, 'Kieran' warmed up to me, so surely she'd—" 

"Warmed up to you? Oh, how fucking sweet!" Kieran threw the small box on the ground and kicked it under your bed. "As if I wouldn't recognize that whore's antics. Do you think she made this for me out of goodwill?" He dug his nails into his forearm to the point it looked painful, then, he let out a sharp laugh. "This is simply a reminder of everything she stole for me. But, of course, that's not enough for her, is it? Ha!" 

You were too shocked to say anything, and Kieran gave you a twisted smile. "For all of your reassurances, she's close to replacing me, isn't she? Tell me, did she act like a shy little princess? Innocent and sweet and harmless? While I was stuck here, she was living through everything that was supposed to be mine!" He laughed and pulled himself closer to you. "Isn't it fucking hilarious? My own mother disowned me, and now the one I was promised since I was a child will also be taken by that wretch."

You were starting to get angered by his outburst. Despite your bafflement, you narrowed your eyes. "Kieran, get yourself together." 

Kieran didn't seem to be able to hear you. "Oh, but she didn't show you what she's truly like, did she?" He cackled, a hoarse sound escaping his throat. "She'd never, haha… She'd act the role of an innocent victim until you'd be ensnared by her. How shrewd! She deserves praise, doesn't she?!" 

"Kieran!" 

That startled him enough to shut his mouth with a click. Still, his crazed glare didn't leave you and locked you in place. The look in his eyes told you that he was fully convinced of something that is not even true, and there was nothing you could say to him to change his mind. It's always like this; everything is going well, but then he snaps. Even so, you've never seen him get as bad as now. You bit your lip in unease. 

"I… think we should get some good night's rest."

Kieran clenched and unclenched his hand repetitively, being either a sign of aggression or pacification. "So we could brush everything under the rug as always, huh. I won't allow that today." Then, he suddenly smiled. "Hey, do you know why she's become so adequate with a needle?"

Puzzled by the sudden change of topic, you weren't sure whether Kieran was messing with you or not. Even though you didn't give him a reply, he didn't seem to mind. "I believe she must've went through the same training as me. My dearest mother always loved to use needles to sew up any larger injury she inflicted on a maid that day. Said something about how it was both painful and effective. Acted as a constant reminder not to disobey again, too."

You didn't like what he was getting at. 

"See, a needle is both small and sharp. You need a precise aim to use it well, especially when your target keeps moving. They struggled so much I often pierced their skin into a much, much more painful area. My mother was always overjoyed when that happened." Kieran covered his mouth with his hand, thinking that he was nauseous, you didn't expect a small smile to appear on his face once he pulled his hand away. "I can't help but wonder whether she's refined her methods since then. Maybe her new daughter gets to enjoy even louder screams than me." 

Your face paled as you connected the dots. There was something indescribably evil with the way he spoke, and you could almost sense him thinking back on those memories almost fondly. It almost looked like he broke free of all the restraints of morality and cared not for the morbid words he was spouting. He was less of a victim than you thought him to be, and thanks to the bug he planted in your head, you couldn't help but wonder whether 'Kieran' was the same. 

The difference between the Kieran you knew and the Kieran you saw in front of you now was as stark as the contrast between night and day. He was gloating about it, but a hint of pain could also be detected. As if he found himself vile. 

"What's gotten you so nervous?" He chuckled, finding everything hilarious. "What's up with that look you're giving me? Are you pitying me? Are you disgusted with me?" Then, his volume increased. "Stop giving me that look! Stop looking at me as if I’m a monster!" 

It was a half-yell and half-cry. Kieran was breaking down in front of you and you didn't know whether you wanted to help him or get him out of your room. He was lashing out like a madman and anything you'd say would make him spiral even more, so you stayed silent. Everything you were feeling turned into a cesspool of unanswered questions and crippling worries piled on top of one another. You couldn't move, nor could you will yourself to do anything but stare at him. The situation you were in felt unreal and your mind itched to flee from this mess and replace your confusing emotions with stress-caused apathy. During the entirety of the time you knew Kieran, he had been causing pain to others on his mother's command. He hurt others. He tortured others. The person you were in love with tortured others. 

You opened your mouth to speak, but your tongue felt heavy and your throat lodged up with black ooze keeping any words at bay. When Kieran's madness started to wash away in waves and the realisation of what he had done crept up on him, the silence between you two became painful. He stumbled over his words and let out short, desperate laughs that sounded like nothing if not deranged to you. 

"You didn't want to do any of those things, did you? You felt repulsed by them." 

Your hoarse voice uttered a sentence you didn't even fully comprehend until it echoed in the room. You were tired. You wanted to sleep and forget this ever happened. You wanted a reason to excuse Kieran for everything he had done. 

Kieran, in his eventual clarity, realised that too. He looked up at you and a part of you felt like he was betrayed by you by something. As if you weren't looking at him, but someone beyond him. Your perfect image of the one who was promised to you. 

When he nodded, you pulled him into a hug and shushed him even though he wasn't crying. His body was limp against yours and you felt like he'd fall apart without you. You sacrificed so much for this man. He was a victim, he had to be. 

And you'd repeat that to yourself until you'd finally believe it. 

[valiantstarlights]

Hello. I am sorry for maybe bloating your inbox, just wanted to quickly say that the last Personal Trainer Dream ask also took me the fuck out in one strike, instant K.O. And your beautiful elaboration of Hob's "progress" kept me the fuck down like a meteor strike. I'm like the person in the meme where the ground caves from the sheer force of the weight on top of me. Mwah mwah thank you, this ask will be enough to sustain me for the weeks to come. Eagerly awaiting the next one when it comes.

(This is going to sound sus but) please don't hesitate to fill my inbox 😂 I'm just (very!) slow at replying, but I always love reading the messages 🖤

The anon who sent the ask on progress pictures deserves all the credit tbh 😊👏 I just expanded the idea a little.

Between you and me though, I'm still daydreaming about the moment when Dream turns on the vibrating+oscillating plug as soon as Hob gets home. 👀

Like, I imagine Hob going from, "I'm home~ 🥰" to "D-Dream? What's...oh!" (squirms cutely) "What's ha-ah! Happening? 🥵"

He would be so caught off guard that he nearly crumples to the floor. Dream would catch him, of course, and carry him to their room even as Hob asks him, moaning and helpless, to please lower the vibration setting or he's gonna cum in his panties that Dream just bought for him.

But Dream just coos and kisses him, holding him securely like he only weighs as much as a couple of grapes, then lays him gently down on the bed.

"Now why would I do that?" Dream would ask. He'll start to undress Hob slowly, just taking his time with it. "You look so beautiful when you cum untouched, and I can always buy you more."

(Hob would try to vehemently deny that he's beautiful, but feel relieved that Dream won't mind if he cums on and ruins yet another pair of expensive panties.)

"Did you let anyone else see you like this?" Dream would ask, as soon as Hob is only wearing his underwear that's slowly becoming translucent due to the precome staining them.

Of course, Hob would shake his head 'no,' because Dream is the only one for him. And he didn't even know that the plug could vibrate, promise--

And Dream would call Hob 'sweet darling' and say that he knows. He's just teasing. Does Hob like his gift? Does he like his surprise? Dream had this plug made special, see, because it's not for every day use at all. No, this one is for when they'll go on dates. Would Hob like that? Would he let Dream slip the plug in him before they go out? Can he control his facial expression enough, or will everyone see just how slutty he looks?

At this point, I think Hob knows just how possessive Dream can get, so he moans out his promise that he'll be good. He'll practice controlling his facial expressions. He won't let anyone see his slutty behavior, because that's only for Dream's eyes.

And Dream would kiss him, pleased, then chuckle when Hob chases his lips when he leans away. "Then we'll have to train some more," Dream would say, and allow Hob to moan against his neck as Dream reaches down and fondles Hob's pretty leaking cock through his panties. "Because this is just the plug's lowest setting."

And Hob's cock jumps and his rim twitches at the promise of more training with Dream. 😏

[0shewrites0]

Stop making anon question curated!

Excuse me? If you want me to answer asks, this is certainly not the way to do it.

Also,

1) this is literally my blog. So I absolutely get to decide which asks I want to answer and which I don’t want to answer and there’s literally nothing you can do about it. You can kindly ask me to answer an ask if you think I’ve been ignoring it but that’s it. Demanding an answer is straight up disrespectful.

2) I’m not so active on tumblr anymore and there’s a reason for that. So sending me asks like this one or, and I quote, ‘You don't seem to reply about litg anymore’ doesn’t make me want to answer more asks, it actually makes me want to stop replying to asks altogether.

3) I get that you’re eagerly awaiting an answer to your ask but I have a life outside of social media and writing, so please respect that.

[storyofmychoices]

Crimes + Punishment

[Mal Volari x Daenarya Masterlist] [Mal’s Orphanage]

Pairings: Mal Volari x Daenarya (F!OC)

Book: Blades of Light and Shadow

Word Count: <500

Rating: Teen+ (sexual situations)

Prompts: "if i had my way, we’d never leave this bed" (requested by anon); @choicesjuly2023challenge - sleepless night ;

Synopsis: Mal expresses the idea of never leaving bed, but Daenarya has an idea of her own.

The early morning light streamed through the curtains, casting a soft glow upon their intertwined bodies.

Mal brushed a few strands of Daenarya's hair away from her face, enchanted to know she was his. "You know—" he whispered, his thumb brushing lightly over her cheek. "—if I had my way, we'd never leave this bed."

Despite the sleepiness lingering in her eyes, Daenarya giggled softly. Her fingertips traced delicate patterns through the hair on his bare chest.

"And what if my way agrees with yours with only a slight alteration?" 

"Does it?" He questioned, his words hope-filled as he leaned in to steal a fleeting kiss.

Daenarya straddled him, pulling the sheet over her head, creating a secret haven for the two of them. "We could stay here, but I could keep you here as my prisoner, my tempting and charming Rogue." 

"Are you sure this is a prison?" His hands glided up her sides, cupping her breasts beneath his calloused fingertips. "Dare I ask what crime I've committed?"

Her lip pulled up as she leaned over him, her hair creating a curtain that cascaded around his face. Her lips dipped, grazing his earlobe, her words a whisper tickling his skin. "Your crimes, Mal Volari, are as follows—" she nipped him lightly, sending a shiver down his spine as he awaited his charges. "—Theft of hearts, with a specialization in stealing mine. Countless violations of my thoughts, rendering me unable to focus on most anything but you—" Her fingers raked teasingly down his chest and slightly lower, enjoying how his body reacted at her each and every touch. "And, let's not forget the crime of irresistible charm and your particularly enjoyable seduction techniques. What do you have to say for yourself?"

Mal's eyes sparkled with mischief, completely captivated by her. "To those crimes, I gladly plead guilty," he replied eagerly. "I promise to serve my sentence willingly, surrendering myself entirely to your wishes, my beautiful Kit. You will not find a more agreeable captive."

"I should hope not," she teased, rubbing her hand over his growing desire. "Good prisoners are rewarded."

"And what of it if I misbehave to ensure a longer sentence?" He rocked into her touch. 

Daenarya laughed as she took purchase of his desire. "You don't need to worry about that, my sweet Rogue. Your sentence shall be a lifetime of stolen kisses, endless embraces, and many sleepless nights to leave you breathless with only my name on those lips."

"If that is what I must endure—" he swallowed hard.

"That and so much more," she quickly captured his mouth, claiming it as her own as she would every inch of him. There was no escape, no reprieve. He was at her mercy, and she would happily take full advantage of it.

I love these two so so much and can not wait for Blades 2. I hope you enjoy this little look into mornings with them. Thank you to Nonny for requesting them! I know they're not popular but I adore them, so I can't say enough how much I love that you requested them!

Thank you to everyone for reading 💛💛💛

[quickspinner]

On Commenting

(Don’t worry I’m not here to berate anyone for failing to comment that is so not what this is about)

We were talking about comments in the disco this morning and then I got in the car and drove around doing my errands so now I have Thoughts and, especially given the fics I plan to rain down on Weddnesday, I am going to inflict them on you. I’m only speaking for me here and no one else. 

And because I’m a Wordy Bitch (tm)  and I haven’t bothered to write an organized point-by-point essay in years and I’m not about to start now, I’m going to put this part up front so you can skip the rest if you don’t vibe with it:

I want you to feel safe to come into my comments however you feel comfortable. Your comment doesn’t have to meet any minimum standard of eloquence or analysis or anything like that. As long as your comment engages with the fic in some way and doesn’t offer nothing but unsolicited criticism, it’s a good comment. That’s it. That’s the standard. And if commenting makes you feel bad, I don’t want you to do it! You have my permission not to comment. Go in peace my friend. Don’t make yourself miserable over something that is supposed to be fun.

I love comments. Love them. I don’t care if you’ve commented before or if you are reading the fic for the 30th time and have already left ten comments--or none! “I’m reading this for the 30th time and I just want to tell you how much I love it even though I’ve never said so before!” 

Me: :D :D :D :D

Not me: omg 30 times and they’re only telling me now? I feel so used.

“Man, this person has commented on a lot of my fic lately.” 

Me: Someone new! Hi new person! I am totally normal and not tempted to reply with to your comments with 50 other fics you should read! I’m so excited to see what you think!

Not me: omg seriously when will this person shut up

“I love this work but I’m afraid my comment won’t be good enough but if I don’t comment I’m killing fandom and the writers will stop and I’m the worst”

Me: OMG, sweetie it’s okay, you do what you can do, it’s not that deep. l will love any comment you make and if all you can stand to do is leave some emojis I will send you some heart emojis right back. I don’t want you to comment if it makes you feel bad, that’s the opposite of what I’m trying to do here!

Not me: You are the worst. You are the reason fandom is dying. I cannot believe people like you would treat me like some tiktok creator throwing things out there for a few paltry likes

Listen. I love comments. Almost all comments. I can’t in truth say all comments because to be honest it does suck a little bit when somebody comes in the comments to complain about the show without actually saying anything about my fic. 

Good: “I love the way you did xyz, I wish the show had done things that way, that would have been so interesting”

Disappointing: “Omg can you believe the writers did that I’m so mad this show sucks and the creators are terrible people and I don’t know how anybody can think otherwise.” Me: “...my fic tho?” 

But like. 99% of comments are great comments. I love it when somebody engages with the story and gives me paragraph by paragraph reactions and tells me what lines they liked most, those are all great. I love it when somebody leaves something that just boils down to “HOLY SHIT THAT WAS AWESOME” whether in text or emoji or keysmash. Comments from friends are amazing. Comments from longtime readers are amazing. Comments from people I’ve never heard of or anons? Amazing. There are a very few people who comment so consistently I actively look for their comments to come in and eagerly await them. Amazing.

But my favorite comments? “My day sucked/I’m goding through a hard time/I’m trying to keep my mind off a difficult thing and reading this made me really happy/gave me a smile when I needed it/is my comfort fic.”

Because those are the ones that made me feel like I did something really important. I impacted someone in a meaningful way. 

Now, I will be honest, I am a super awkward person and I suck at taking compliments, so responding to comments is kind of erratic for me. I try to do it, but sometimes I just have to hide under my blankets and squeal in embarrassment for a while first. 😆 But just because I don’t answer doesn’t mean I don’t see and appreciate. Comments are amazing. 

Okay, now I’m going to get a tiny bit preachy and overly optimistic. Again, I’m just speaking for me and my experiences, but this is the way I tend to look at things.

Here’s the other side of comments though and I mean this kind of as a word of caution for writes and artists as well as a reason why ‘if I don’t comment I’m contributing to the death of fandom’ is semi-bullshit--it is so easy to become jaded over time. First you are excited for every comment, and then you start to convince yourself that certain types of comments “don’t matter.” “Oh, I got ten comments but 5 of them are my discord friends, they’re just commenting because they’re friends.” “Oh, I got comments, but they’re from the same people who always comment. I wish somebody knew would comment. It’s depressing that only the same people are reading my work.” “I got comments but look how many hits/likes/kudos I got and so few of them commented.” 

So. Easy. You guys, it is so easy to convince yourself that what you’re getting isn’t enough. So just, watch yourself and stay grateful. Be vigilant against that kind of complacency. And most importantly, write things you love because you love them. At the same time, sometimes you have to be realistic about the size of the potential audience for any given fic. Write it, but remember that not everybody loves what you love, and if you choose to write something that’s a little weird or has a lot of OCs or diverges strongly from accepted canon/fanon, that you’re going to have to find your people, find your audience, before you start seeing those comments come in. 

It’s complicated, I get that. We all do want the comments and the validation. We ARE less motivated when no one seems to engage with our work. But I also think that the way to combat that is to a) stay grateful b) build community with other authors/artists/creators who will still be there commenting and cheering us on when the general public seems to have sunk into indifference. Nobody gets it like fellow creatives. Be the change you want to see in the world, and all that. If you feel like commenting is down, it’s probably down for other people too, so maybe go leave a positive comment for someone else.