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starkeymeow · 1 month ago

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brief rundown of siblingpack!pogue!reader’s family

27 ; savannah “sav” – the eldest, almost a stranger

role — left young, never came back, until now. the mysterious one who got out, started a new life, then crashed.

super distant, emotionally blocked, protective in a detached way. keeps secrets like they’re currency.

no one’s sure what she does for work, just that she suddenly needs a place to stay. (coming soon!)

relationships ;

to you — distant but respectful. your connection is strained because sav left when you were still a kid. you have emotional landmines between each other.

to rafe — neutral-to-cold. she doesn’t trust rich boys. doesn’t say much to him, but he knows she’s watching.

to the camerons — she hates ward’s whole vibe. instantly clocks him as manipulative and warns you quietly: “don’t let them feed you steak if they’re starving you emotionally.”

24 ; cole – the smartest one, but mean as hell about it

role — gifted in school, now a sarcastic underachiever. could’ve been anything, and resents everyone for that.

cold, funny in a dry way, yes hes obviously so lip gallagher core. isn’t afraid to complain or yell apparently bc thats how i accidentally wrote him in the first part already LMAO, but he means well.

still super protective when it comes to any of his siblings unless theyre being fucking stupid

relationships ;

to you — he sees you as too soft and it annoys him. but he’ll back you up in a quiet way. thinks you deserve more than what this family (and rafe) offers.

to rafe — plays nice at first but theres an instant mutual dislike. cole has no respect for ‘trust fund masculinity’ and will eventually call him out subtly, like, “so what exactly do you do besides walk around like you own the place?”

to the camerons — thinks they’re all shallow, morally bankrupt, and a walking warning sign. but ‘that sarah girl’ doesn’t seem as bad.

22 ; nadia – the one who got pregnant, but not by accident

role — has a kid but has no partner. doesn’t want one. wanted the baby, not the mess.

can be controlling, elegant, sharper than people expect. thinks everyone else is irresponsible. protective but only motherly to her daughter or rowan.

relationships ;

to you — literally sees you like a friend, but also someone to manage. she talks down to you without realizing it, treating you like a baby sister when you’re tired of that. you argue a lot but never fall out.

to rafe — wary but polite. she doesn’t hate him but assumes he’ll let you down eventually. has that ‘i’ll be watching you’ smile.

to the camerons — tries to be civil. thinks rose is plastic. thinks ward is a snake. keeps her kid far away from their energy.

20 ; YOU – the glue that holds everybody together unfortunately

role — you didn’t choose this job but they practically look to you to be the middle man in things. it’s why you don’t blame sav for leaving and why you go out so often with rafe.

you see everything but say nothing sometimes. idk i’ll make sure you have a good heart but you’ll have ur fun. impulsive maybe ? fan favorite.

relationships ;

to rafe — you’re the first person who doesn’t treat him like he’s broken beyond repair. but you also don’t fix him, you challenge him.

to the camerons — you usually try to hold your own, but they see you as a “pity project” at first. ward doesn’t like your independence. rose ignores you. wheezie likes you. sarah is intrigued, especially because she wonders why you even like someone like her brother.

16 ; kit – the wild card maybe

role — the risk-taker. the one who disappears for days n shows up like nothing happened.

reckless, addictive, oddly loyal. hates rules but loooves family dinners (for the food, drama, & laughs. mainly the drama.)

maybe angsty because shes 16. was originally supposed to be another boy but i wanted a brother/sister duo dynamic between her & jude.

relationships ;

to you — surprisingly loyal. you’re the only one who can get through to her when she’s spinning out. would throw hands for you, literally.

to rafe — lowkey kind of idolizes him at first. rafe is older, wild, and dangerous, something that kit respects. but if rafe hurts you? kit’s burning something down.

to the camerons — she thinks they’re cool but fake. she’d eventually get kicked out of their house for stealing something small ‘just to see if they’d notice.’

15 ; jude – so quiet, such an observer tbh

role — always watching. not necessarily antisocial quiet but he just minds his own business a lot of the time. when he opens his mouth its always gonna be something stupid.

withdrawn, sweet when you earn it. typical teen asshole tho, prob same with kit

relationships ;

to you — close, in a quiet, deep way. he doesn’t talk much, but he always knows when you’re hurting.

to rafe — likes him. initially it’s a very “well i guess if you like him then who am i to say anything?” feeling toward you. he secretly likes when rafe comes over because his kiss-ass self always tries to bring stuff for the younger ones now.

to the camerons — doesn’t like them. thinks they pretend too much. prob writes poetry about sarah but deletes it LMFJSOW

8 ; rowan – the tag-a-long

role — the baby. dragged into everything. overhears more than he should. weirdly wise for his age.

loves hiding under tables, pretending to be asleep, spying. he’s so adorable.

relationships ;

to you — can get obsessed. sometimes will just follow you everywhere. you’re one of the only ones who actually plays with him when you’re home.

to rafe — actually likes him because rafe treats him like a mini-adult. rafe lets him sit in the front seat, buys him snacks. you’re shocked.

to the camerons — literally doesn’t care. he just wants to know if they have a pool and snacks.

authors note ; for those who wanted the next time i release anything about siblingpack!reader <3 im at school rn n im too lazy to add the coloring tho so ill do it later maybe

@nicholaschavezslut69 @iissza @snowtargaryen @yootvi @ariiwritess @spideysimpossiblegirl @skyslowalking @adribarbie @obsessionsarenotfortheweak @0-tatiana-0 @beebeerockknot @rafestar @adribarbie @drewstarkeyzwhore @drewsephrry @annaconscience @writtenbyhollywood @yourtypicalteenagegirl @daisydark @v4mpscrms @chalahyung01

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searchingforserendipity25 · 4 months ago

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exorcising my list of unwritten conclave concepts from a few weeks ago i haven't written much since, in case the list is all there ends up coming out of it or anyone wants to welcome any of them into a good home:

cardinal lawrence and sister agnes won each other’s respect and trust during ratzinger’s papacy (liberals who leak church scandals to the justice system and the press stick together). everyone lowkey thinks they are having an affair. they are not, but they do keep sneaking into corners to gossip during the conclave. leaning fully into the reading of sister agnes as the late pope’s intelligence expert. incredibly jaded vatican spy. aldo is not jealous. benitez finds lawrence with the yellow canary eating from his hand and going back to his side after short flights, and has a number of franciscan emotions about it. the whole thing would ideally be about their friendship, different views and thoughts on power, what it looks like, what it ought to look like. responsibility, and doubt. also: how horrible it is the only non smokers in an european workplace.

(does this change anything materially? possibly the adeyemi and trembley situation is revealed much sooner with lawrence and sister agnes working together earlier and sharing intel, which in its turn makes him seem more competent and aggressive in taking down competitors, ergo more votes, ergo more influence? maybe bellini supports him more overtly earlier idk.)

cardinal lawrence is dead. as a matter of fact, cardinal lawrence has been dead for a few days after the pope dies; unlike the pope, he keeps coming back to do his job. the curia covers up his death, because the dean of the college of cardinals is a ghost who apparently hated his job enough that is it his very literal purgatory is both hard to explain, and bad for the press. the fate of his unliving soul is very much at risk when steering the conclave, which is, uh, fun. cardinal tedesco's vape smoke now strongly smells of sulfur to him, which is probably not satanic in origin but then again might be. people keep voting on him and their belief in him corresponds directly to how much he can interact with the world, which is a very straightforward way to test one’s moral limits and otherwise a great torment. the one silver lining is that he can walk through walls and scoop out corrupt dealing easily, and no one can really tell he is dead. well, barely anyone. cardinal benítez and his ability to walk easily between the liminal spaces and certainties of the world is an outlier, and should not be counted.

dean lawrence keeps getting kidnapped, poisoned, blackmailed and otherwise threatened. this is an unfortunate if occasional part of being the vatican’s manager of two increasingly liberal and unorthodox papacies. it is considerably less fine and unfortunately far too normal for innocent xiv, who has a non-zero number of experiences with friends being kidnapped, poisoned, blackmailed and otherwise threatened.

bellini/lawrence full on established relationship nonsense. as in, they have been together for thirty years and counting. conclave rewrite??

innocent xiv’s phone messages get leaked. innocent xiv’s phone messages consist of selfies with turtles sent to various friends and family, a good deal of memes in the santa marta groupchat, and daily jokes, complaints and affectionate messages to dean lawrence. the media has thoughts. aldo bellini, newly in charge of the papal media strategy, also has thoughts. and prayers.

a glimpse at all the people that Did vote for benítez from the start, and how much his work is or is not known outside the hermetic sphere of the vatican. he's kind of famous in religious activist circle probably! he has fans! he has a wide network of people he regularly approaches for information, resources, mutual aid and donations to his clinics and dioceses! he keeps dropping insane facts about horrifying personal experiences with unnerving serenity!

vincent benítez soft doms cardinal lawrence into taking a rest during the conclave. this incidents turns into a habit and gains new dimensions, as per the forthcoming changes in job status

pope john has an ongoing crisis of faith and also a gigantic imposter's syndrome. unrelatedly, pope john would really really really rather vincent benítez did not die in kabul and/or cause a diplomatic disaster. how convenient, then, that he is now a benevolent religious dictator who can arrange (read: wholesale invent) a number of postings and duties only benítez can accomplish. if anyone ask, this is a long-delayed move on part o the church to develop a deeper connection to on-the-ground aid organization. this can’t possibly last forever, though, can it?

friar lawrence has shed all politics and chosen an abbey who keeps a vow of silence. friar lawrence is genuinely having a lovely time of things in his little abbey post canon. for like, uh, two months? friar lawrence keeps accidentally gaining more and more influence. manager-guy who cannot not manage. six months in he’s in charge of shelters and social associations. one year on, and he’d be archbishop again, if he were not aggressively trying to clamber down the church hierarchical rung. his friend, innocent xiv, who went from being a non-entity to one of the most famous men in the world, is sympathetic but also thinks this is very very funny. epistolary fic?? email epistolary? there is a little cat in a friar's habit and this is the most important part.

possibly related: cardinal lawrence comes back from his enforced sabbatical in a peaceful retreat freckled, healthier and smiling. people have thoughts on this, and emotions also.

turtle pov of benitez/lawrence. literally: turtle pov. is the turtle an angel?? unclear if the turtle is an angel.

cardinal tedesco must die au.

#thomas lawrence #vincent benitez #conclave spoilers #conclave #a post on lawrence being dead and in purgatory flickered on my dash before disappearing and i NEED to find it #whoever wrote it is living in my brain namely my brain two weeks ago when i tried to draft it. i am so thrilled that i'm not the only one #who thinks his haunted vibes and alma penada swag is so suited to a purgatory concept #also i desperately need more sister agnes #aldo bellini #sister agnes #conclave au #lawrence x benitez #lawrenitez

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sapphosclosefriend · 1 year ago

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-Thanksgiving Fun-

Pairing: Stepcousin! Masc! Natasha Romanoff x Fem! Reader

Genre: smut

Summary: you were never able to resist her, not even on Thanksgiving.

Word count: 3.5k

Warnings: top! (beefy and tattooed 🤤) Natasha x bottom! R, stepcest, enemies with benefits, allusions to weed consumption, SMUT, oral on strap on (R giving), throat fucking (R receiving), strap on sex (R receiving), extremely brief oral (R receiving), squirting (R)

A/N: this story contains smut so anyone who isn’t 18+ DNI. I literally wrote this in 2 days out of a frenzy so Idk how good it is…M, P, G pt 2 will come, I promise!!!! Once again, thanks to @rt--link for being so sweet! As usual, likes, reblogs and comments are very appreciated! Enjoy ♡

Masterlist

It was already November, which meant it was Thanksgiving time! You were so excited to finally get back home for a little bit after the couple of months you had spent away at uni. Contrary to most of your friends, you actually really liked Thanksgiving. Yes, it meant having to undergo the neverending interrogation from your classically nosy aunts, but you gladly did it every year to be able to spend some time with all of your relatives, even the ones who lived a bit more far away. Of course she was also one of them, though.

Natasha was one of your aunt’s daughters. Her mother had married your uncle 3 years before, making her, the redhead and her sister officially part of the family. Everyone liked Nat as soon as she became part of the group and her sister Yelena, with her sharp wit, was, if possible, even more beloved by everybody. As soon as the two girls regularly entered your lives, you had followed everyone’s advice and started to hang out together. You’d always felt very lucky for having cousins of your same age range, making them some of your closest friends ever, and having the chance of adding someone else to the group immediately sounded like the best idea ever, or at least that’s what you had thought at first.

That was because you didn’t like Natasha, you just didn’t. If at first, while witnessing her interactions with other people, she seemed to be the sweetest girl in the world, once you finally got to know her personally you started loathing her. She wasn’t necessarily a bad person, she was just so irritating all the time. And the worst part was that, apparently, she only acted that way with you, not with her friends, not with your other cousins, not even with her own sister, just with you. If you thought that, thanks to uni’s social life, you had met the cockiest motherfuckers in the world, you were utterly wrong. Natasha was the most terrible one of them all. It was constant teasing, constant comments, constant jokes, constant snickering and each time you heard her voice or looked at her, you wanted nothing more than to wipe that smug smirk off her pretty face.

You didn’t know how it all started. Well, of course you knew that one time, at your grandma’s house to celebrate her birthday, Natasha had been particularly annoying since the moment you’d gotten there, which resulted in you being bitchy and her pulling you into the bathroom and kissing you once she had you trapped against the locked door. You hated it, every second of it and the fact that you ended up begging her to keep going while she was with her fingers knuckle deep inside of you wasn’t of any importance. You weren’t proud of what happened that day, but you were too nice to deny her when a couple of days later she was at your door ripping your clothes off of you. You were both attending the same uni and, despite literally never seeing each other in academic nor social settings, you started finding the closeness to be a much bigger impediment to your initial want to put a stop to your newly found situation. You were growing weaker and weaker to her charm, only while in the bedroom of course, and your intent to end it all kept getting pushed to the back of your mind each time you came with her name on your lips, until it was completely gone.

And that’s how you ended up at yet another family gathering partly ruined by her, this time to celebrate Thanksgiving, having to try to push away the tingle between your legs at the sight of her in her usual casual clothes hiding the defined muscles underneath as she talked with her dad and your grandpa about something involving a bike she was fixing up for herself. You were keeping your distance for your own sanity, but you could clearly hear their words and her low, raspy voice regularly adding to the conversation. You didn’t know what the hell they were talking about and either way, you had stopped actively listening long before, once you got lost in the view of her hand as she held her glass. The second she noticed your eyes fixed on her, you were thankfully saved from her most definitely coming over to tease you, by your cousin Clint, bored out of his mind and equally in need of leaving as soon as possible, even if for very different reasons than you. Ok, maybe him being the person talking to you didn’t exactly make him your savior, he was the person Natasha had gotten the closest to after all, which meant that, as soon as she once again turned to get a peek of your outfit she particularly appreciated, he immediately called her over, most definitely hoping to lure her away from the party. She couldn’t have been more obvious with the way her eyes kept ranking your body head to toe as she listened to his frustrated rambling, but thankfully Clint’s desperation blinded him from noticing the less than innocent way in which her gaze was on you.

“I’m begging you Nat, I’ll get on my knees! Just one!”

You both couldn’t help but chuckle at the grown man’s antics, when you suddenly realized that you had no idea of what the hell they were talking about. You barely had the time to open your mouth to ask them directly, when, of course, she interrupted you without a care to keep talking to her friend.

“Fine, but I’m taking half of it”

As soon as the first word barely left her mouth he was throwing his fist in the air and putting his coat on to go to the guest house she was staying in with you. Because of course you had been placed in the same room, in the small guest house in the backyard that only consisted of one room with one bed. You didn't know why, but everyone apparently thought of you two as some sort of best friends just because you both went to the same uni, despite, again, the known fact that you did not have one single class together, lived in different places and had completely different friends, meaning that you only saw each other when she called you over or randomly popped up at your place to fuck, but of course they didn't know any of that.

“A quarter..”

He was already leaving once he spoke his final words, leaving her alone with you to shake her head at her friend’s antics.

“Fine”

You hated how easily she seemingly had you under a trance as she murmured the word while smiling to herself. She was able to put you out of it equally fast, though, as she turned to you to regard you before leaving the celebration to follow after Clint.

“Are you coming?”

Her almost soft tone had to have given you some sort of whiplash as you stood there, looking at her without being able to utter a single word for a second, before regaining control over your own mind, and sanity, once you noticed her lips starting to curl into her usual mischievous smirk.

“Don’t worry, I’m gonna stay here a bit longer”

She was once again putting at risk your ability to talk as she ran a hand through her short hair to get it out of her face and moved closer and closer to you, sneaking her gaze towards the other side of the room where most people had moved to, before reaching behind you to get a snack from the table you were leaning against, pressing her front against yours and letting your feel a certain something poking your lower belly.

“I’ll wait for you then”

She looked way too pleased by your slightly widened eyes as you tried to contain your emotions in order not to draw any attention to the two of you.

“You’re packing?”

Her brows furrowed as you whisper yelled at her, before speaking matter of factly.

“Of course I’m packing, I’m always packing when I’m with you”

She didn't give you the time to respond to her, immediately licking the chocolate off her fingers while shamelessly looking at your cleavage before turning to go to the guest house. She was infuriating, her and her constant horniness. You decided to casually join some conversations here and there for the brief rest of the night, until almost everyone had gotten to bed, including a much more relaxed Clint, and it was just you and your aunt gossiping in the living room. The moment your phone buzzed in your lap you almost had a feeling of who might had been trying to get in contact with you, so you cautiously lifted the screen, in case a certain someone decided to share something a little too private, and noticed she had sent you a picture.

The moment you clicked on it, the initial, brief awe you found yourself lost in at the sight of her posing with her tongue peaking out and the hood of her sweatshirt over her cap, was unfortunately wiped away once you finally read the caption under it. You couldn’t help but mentally facepalm at her dumb words, even if you had to reluctantly admit that the text was successful in making your heart leap at its crude nature.

“Not enough pressure on my 🍆”

Her finger was pointing to the word “pressure” printed on her hoodie, why did she have to be that way? You knew what she wanted from you, it was all she seemed to be thinking about, like some pussydrunk teen, and the way she didn’t even ask you if you were down for it, expecting you to just indulge her wish, didn’t sit right with you. Who did she think you were? Her whore always waiting for her like a pet?

You locked your phone with a frustrated sigh and got up from the couch, quickly finding an excuse with the immediate questioning you got from your aunt as to why you'd go back to your room so early.

By the time you walked across the whole backyard and got to the entrance of the guest house you were finally able to make out her figure, sitting on the wicker armchair under the small porch with all the lights off, in complete darkness, to hide the very end of a hand rolled cigarette between her fingers and the suspiciously smelly smoke coming from her.

“Your tits look good in that shirt”

You knew it was coming, as soon as you had chosen your outfit, you knew some sort of comment was to be made by her, although it had taken her a bit longer than you had expected. You were wearing a quite simple blouse with a boob window, in reality nothing as scandalous as it sounded, but the complete opposite in Natasha’s eyes. The way your jeans perfectly hugged your ass and the sway of your hips anytime you had walked past her, were just the cherry on top to the main course right below your pretty face.

You barely looked at her as you kept walking by her past the door without acknowledging her words, hearing her chuckle at your usual uptight self. You hated to admit it, but the way she was manspreading, making a bulge under her sweatpants slightly visible, while she casually smoked, had made you even more willing to help her out with her “pressure issue”, not that she needed to know about your enthusiasm anyway. By the time you were just starting to get undressed she entered the room, locking the door behind her and standing against it to shamelessly look at your ass as you leaned down to take your shoes off. As soon as your pants were off too and you were about to slip off your shirt she spoke up.

“No no no, keep that on”

Despite the way too pleased look on her face, you were silently thankful for the piece of clothing still on you in the slightly chilly room. You didn’t even bother to take your warm, ankle high socks off and left yourself fall on your back on the bed, feeling satisfied after noticing her swallowing and wetting her own lips as her eyes stayed fixed on your boobs’ slight jiggling as you had dropped on the mattress. Once you got comfortable on top of the soft duvet, you made sure to look right at her as you slowly spread your legs and immediately started lightly rubbing yourself through the fabric of your own underwear, moaning softly at the light stimulation as a way to tease the motherfucker in front of you. Without uttering a word, she left her spot by the door and walked over to you, stopping at the foot of the bed to grab her cock through her pants and slowly pump it. Pushing down her sweatpants just enough for the dildo strapped to her hips to spring out, she gave you a peak of the beautiful, defined v lines you had kissed over so many times and the bottom of the tattoos on her torso and abdomen you had to admit you loved. There was some ink peeking out from the cuff on her wrist as well, making the sight of her strong hand holding the base of her cock even more pleasing.

“Come here, get it wet”

You wanted to come up at least with a remark at her blunt order, but found nothing but anticipation in you and your body, as if moving by its own accord, immediately left your spot to kneel on the bed right in front of her crotch. You didn't waste any time, you couldn't have even if you wanted to, and, as soon as your lips touched the head of her cock, you tried your best to relax your throat in order to take as much of her length as you could, earning a pleased hum from her at the sound of your gags every time she reached the back of your throat.

“Now that's a cocksucker”

Her words pulled your eyes to her face and found her looking intently at you. The groan that came from her once you stopped bobbing your head to stay still with her cock still in your mouth sent a strong twing of arousal through you as she easily understood what you wanted.

She gently grabbed your head with both hands to keep you in place and immediately started to move her hips to fuck your face. Relishing the sight of a string of spit dropping on the part of your chest exposed by the cut in your shirt, she started pushing even deeper to see just how far you were willing to go for her. The resistance was clear as she pushed a bit more of her cock with every other thrust, until you finally couldn't wait anymore and grabbed her ass to give her a push and hopefully make her understand what she needed to do. With one final thrust she managed to push herself past your tight throat until your nose was touching her crotch. She couldn't help herself and rushed to get her phone from her pocket to snap a picture of you looking up at her with watery eyes as you grasped her ass cheeks through her pants to keep her from moving away. It was only once the need to breathe got the best of you that you pushed yourself off of her, sucking in a deep breath while Natasha stared with hooded eyes at your swollen lips and the spit connecting them to her cock.

“You say you hate me but you need my cock that much?”

You hated so much how true her words were and tried to distract yourself from the thought by lying back down and grabbing her cock now covered in your spit.

“Well, you're obsessed with my pussy so it's even”

She just smirked at your remark, deep down knowing that you were so fucking right. She couldn't get enough of it, all the girls she had fucked and she had to loose it for her stepcousin? Well, she honestly didn't give a shit, as long as you were careful she was going to keep fucking you like the slut she knew you were for her deep down.

“For the first time I've gotta say you're right”

You didn't even have the time to process her words and the shock that they had caused when she suddenly moved your underwear to the side and grabbed your ass tightly to lift your hips and get a taste of you, moaning exaggeratedly at her now favorite snack. Despite the leg shaking orgasm you knew she would've easily gotten out of you with her mouth, you pushed the delicious thought to the side and firmly grabbed her hair to lift her from your center.

“Right now I need your cock balls deep in my pussy, not your mouth”

Her lips looked way too delicious as they glistened with your juices and as they curled up she suddenly left go of your ass, making you yelp as you fell back to your lying position, before grabbing your thighs and pushing them to each of your sides, waiting for you to keep them there yourself with your arms to fully open yourself up for her. From the position you had a clear view of her strap as she rubbed it over your wet folds before finally pushing its head inside of you. She could never get enough of seeing your reaction at her entering you for the first time and once again, she couldn't help but keep her eyes on your face from the first moment. She fucked you just with the tip for a bit in order for you to get used to her and, gradually pushed more and more inside as you rubbed your own clit. You knew you were very far away from everybody else, but you still tried your best to keep your volume as low as you could, making her smirk at the clear signs of your struggle to do so.

“More, go faster”

She loved it every time when your uptight, moralist voice turned in a second into the pathetic begs of her own cockdrunk whore and who was she to give up the chance of fucking her personal pussy when she asked for it? After lifting up her hoodie a little to get a better view of your center begging to be filled up more and more, she firmly grabbed your waist, gradually thrusting faster and harder until she had set a pace that knocked your breath away every time she pushed her hips forward and her tip stroked your g spot so deliciously a deep sensation quickly started to build up inside of you. Her flexed abs and veins popping up on her hands made the pleasure she was making you feel, become even stronger, getting your orgasm closer by the second. It honestly amazed you how fast she was always able to make you cum and, despite not wanting to show her any weakness, you admittedly always felt a little self conscious because of it. You could barely keep it anymore, though, it was going to happen in a matter of seconds and your mouth opening in shock told her everything she needed to know.

“Wait, I think I'm gonna-”

You didn't have the chance of finishing your sentence before an earth shattering orgasm hit you so strongly that small, clear droplets spilled out of you every time she pulled back.

“Holy shit”

She panted the words to herself before swiftly pulling out completely and quickly rubbing her fingers over your clit, making you moan loudly as you squirted even more for her while you rode out your orgasm. By the time you were done, your legs were a little shaky and you were almost sobbing from how intense and quick it all was. Once you looked back at her, though, you knew you would've gladly done it as many times as she wanted. Her abs were a little wet from your orgasm, with a couple of drops still lingering on her tattooed skin, and, once your eyes locked with hers, she looked like the most dangerous predator eyeing its prey, ready to eat it in one bite, and, god, wasn't she going to do exactly that.

After all, maybe Thanksgiving was actually going to be even better with her.

Tags: @fxckmiup @natashasilverfox @dmenby3100

#natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x fem!reader #natasha romanoff smut #black widow #black widow x reader #black widow x female reader #black widow smut #marvel #mcu

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daenerys-apolog1st · 3 months ago

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I'm gonna be so serious right now, every time I see someone from Team Green say that the show- "favors team black" -I just wanna ask what fucking show they're watching and if they can send it to me.

This ridiculous show has taken like 75% of the shit that happens in the books and either changed it or completely omitted it, all to either make TG seem more sympathetic or TB look bad.

Want some examples?

----------

In the books, Rhaenyra's sons' legitimacy was questioned, but in all likelihood they were 100% legitimate and the "bastard" rumors were mainly spread/believed by TG and their supporters---Rhaenys even had "dark" hair just like Rhaenyra's sons and, if I remember correctly, Aemma's appearance wasn't described but she had Arryn blood which would lend to the boys' dark hair as well.

In the show, they made her sons definitively bastards (at least by blood) and took away how Rhaenys looked in the book, making her have the stereotypical Targaryen features just to make Rhaenyra look stupid I guess.

In the books, Alicent Hightower was 18 years old and willingly went after Viserys because she---like her father---wanted power and wanted her blood on the throne. Viserys, at the time, was like 27 if I remember correctly.

In the show, Alicent is about 15 and is forced by her father to go after Viserys, who seems to be of about 40-50 years of age.

In the books, Alicent Hightower---a grown woman---had beef with an 8 year old little girl for no reason other than the fact that Viserys wouldn't write her off as heir in order to favor her son.

In the show, Alicent hates Rhaenyra because of childhood best friend drama---they made her and Rhaenyra the same age---and the fact that Rhaenyra didn't tell her about having a one night stand, betrayal yada yada, plus jealousy because Rhaenyra is "free" and Alicent "isn't" (even though they have similar power at the time as queen and princess, Rhaenyra just actually utilizes it).

In the books, Alicent has 0 remorse for Rhaenyra's sons dying and TG quite literally throws a party after Aemond kills Lucerys.

In the show, Alicent sends letters to Rhaenyra apologizing for his death and Aemond killing Luce was apparently an "accident" that he kinda feels bad for.

In the books, Alicent Hightower 100% supported usurping Rhaenyra and did it knowingly---she didn't give a fuck about Viserys wishes, her father didn't do jack shit, she just wanted her son on the throne and put him there.

In the show, apparently Alicent was "manipulated" into the usurpation by her father and really thought that Viserys wanted Aegon as heir---his dying wish or whatever---and she thought all the usurpation talk was just...idk a joke or something- (even though this retcon literally goes against what was established in S1).

In the books, Rhaenyra was said to always be dressed in jewels and fine fabrics, remembered for her beauty and how she adorned herself. Rhaenyra was also said to have had multiple ladies in waiting that she was close friends with, including Laena Velaryon and Harwin Strong's sisters.

In the show, Rhaenyra tends to be dressed in plainer or just downright ugly clothes and her femininity is stripped away, meanwhile Alicent Hightower is the one the showrunners decided to give the beautiful detailed gowns to and they allowed her to be feminine. Also all of Rhaenyra's female friendships were removed and tossed in the trashcan so that Alicent was her only friend.

In the books, Daemon really did love Laena as well as Baela and Rhaena. Daemon fought for Laena's hand and literally begged Viserys to let him present his daughters at court.

In the show, Daemon doesn't give a fuck about Laena or his daughters and the few scenes that were filmed that show Daemon being a loving husband/father got cut.

In the books, Rhaenyra, Daemon, and Laena were basically a throuple---they were said to visit each other often, fly their dragons together, and as soon as Rhaenyra heard that Laena was in childbirth she flew all the way to Driftmark to attend to her. After Laena's death both Daemon and Rhaenyra were heartbroken, with Rhaenyra even sitting vigil at Laena's bedside.

In the show, Rhaenyra's relationship with Laena is completely erased. Daemon and Rhaenyra fuck at her funeral.

In the books, Rhaenys is Rhaenyra's number 1 defender and is immediately ready to go to war for her birthright because she understands how she feels and still feels robbed of her own birthright.

In the show, Rhaenys has beef with Rhaenyra when she's a child, criticizes her for going to war when she's older, and only seems like mildly annoyed about not being queen.

In the books, Jeyne Arryn 100% supports Rhaenyra because 1. Arryn on her mothers side and 2. because women need to stick together in this "world of men." Rhaenyra also has support from the majority of the houses and the smallfolk, all said to have marched even after her death to "fight for Viserys' little girl."

In the show, Jeyne Arryn doesn't give a fuck about Rhaenyra and the other houses don't seem to either, Rhaenyra's title as the "Realm's Delight" is apparently just bullshit I guess.

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I could go on, but y'all get the point.

The idea that this bullshit "favors Team Black" is ridiculous, and do you wanna know the worst part? They're not even writing the changes well. I think I'd take the changes better if the show were actually written well and fully leaned into them, but instead they're just throwing around half-baked ideas and even going back on things that they already established in their own show!

I mean Alicent was 100% down with usurpation in S1, but in S2 apparently she didn't know? Be so fucking serious 💀

This show is just trying to make money off of some stupid- "choose your side" -marketing scheme and the writing is suffering for it, plus it's just changing the story into something completely different. If they wanted to change it this much then they should've just made an original show or something, because this is getting ridiculous.

#asoiaf #house of the dragon #anti team green #team black #alicent hightower critical #anti alicent hightower #anti alicent stans #rhaenyra targaryen #daemon targaryen #laena velaryon

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bansurii · 1 year ago

Text

Pen Pals

pair: sukuna x afab!reader

content: smut, stalking, threats, slight violence, dubious consent i think ?, profanity, choking, an impossible angle, sukuna is a serial killer but we never touch fully on that, reader is scared a lot, and idk what more is needed but just be careful proceeding MDNI thank you!

line dividers @cafekitsune

“So, what if your charming pen pal turns out to look like Quasimodo?”

“I have his picture! Besides, it’s not like we’ll ever actually meet. He’s serving life.”

Your friend gaped at you, her eyes widening in disbelief.

The conversation had begun with your usual letter-writing ritual. What had once been a simple hobby had evolved into an infatuation with a man labeled as one of the world's most dangerous criminals. Despite his reputation, his letters had been nothing but kind, making your heart flutter with each new page. His picture revealed a ruggedly handsome man, his body adorned with tattoos that hinted at a dangerous past.

You had told your friend about him almost a year ago. Predictably, she responded with trepidation, urging you to choose a less notorious correspondent.

“He’s still a person,” you’d argue. “Even the most hated need love too. And what harm could he do if he never knows where I live, let alone what I look like?”

However, his latest request had unsettled you both. He wanted a picture of you, something to remember you by during lonely times. Your friend was livid when you mentioned it.

“You cannot send him a picture! What if he has friends on the outside? I refuse to become a target because of your bad decisions!”

You laughed it off, continuing to write a diplomatic yet affectionate refusal. Your friend, exasperated, finally sighed in defeat.

“Well, enjoy writing to the serial killer. I’m staying at my boyfriend’s place for a while. If he gets out and comes after you, call the police first, then me.”

You reassured her with a laugh, promising to be cautious. She hugged you tightly before leaving. Neither of you noticed the grey car parked across the street, its presence having become so familiar it was easily ignored.

The following evening, a knock at your door startled you. Expecting your friend, you were puzzled to find no one there. Just a box.

With a mix of excitement and dread, you approached the door. The box bore a note in handwriting you recognized instantly:

*Such a beautiful home. I thought you would enjoy a little gift from the other side…*

Your anxiety surged. You scanned the empty, unnaturally quiet street before retreating inside. The flickering streetlight across from your home seemed dimmer than usual, casting eerie shadows. A rustle in the bushes sent you scurrying back inside, locking the doors and setting the alarm with trembling hands.

The box sat ominously on your coffee table. Despite your curiosity, fear kept you from opening it. Instead, you holed up in your room, hoping sleep would come despite the dread gnawing at you.

In the dead of night, you jolted awake to the sound of metal scraping against metal. Someone was inside your home.

Determined not to fall into the typical horror trope of investigating, you stayed put. But then you heard it—footsteps, slow and deliberate, ascending the carpeted stairs.

Panic gripped you. Clutching the bat you kept in your closet, you listened as the intruder approached. The door across the hall creaked open, and you steeled yourself for the worst. But then you recognized the sounds—muffled giggles and a familiar voice.

Relief washed over you. Your friend had returned, and apparently brought her boyfriend. You set the bat down, heart still racing, and fell back into bed, the adrenaline finally giving way to exhaustion.

In the morning, you would face the box and the mysteries it held. For now, you allowed yourself to sink into the comfort of your bed, hoping that sleep would bring a respite from the turmoil of the past few days.

The morning light filtered through the curtains, casting a warm glow on your bedroom. Despite the terror of the previous night, you felt a strange sense of calm as you padded downstairs. The box still sat on the coffee table, its presence a reminder of the eerie note and the mystery it held.

Taking a deep breath, you sat on the couch and gingerly lifted the lid. Inside, nestled in a bed of luxurious velvet, was an object that took your breath away. It was a stunningly crafted necklace, the centerpiece a large, gleaming sapphire surrounded by intricate filigree work in white gold. The piece was elegant, expensive, and utterly out of place for something sent from a prison.

You lifted it gently, the gem catching the light and casting tiny rainbows across the room. For a moment, the sheer beauty of the necklace overshadowed your fear. How could something so exquisite come from a man behind bars?

Elated but wary, you turned the necklace over in your hands, inspecting every detail. It was flawless, and the craftsmanship was impeccable. This was no ordinary gift.

Your mind raced. How did he manage to send something so extravagant? More importantly, how did he know your address? You felt a shiver run down your spine as you recalled your friend's words: *“What if he has friends on the outside?”*

The realization hit you hard. He must have outside help. Someone capable of acquiring such a piece and delivering it to your doorstep. Your elation was quickly replaced by a deep sense of unease.

How long had he known where you lived? You thought back to the grey car that had been parked across the street. Was it connected? Had you been watched?

You set the necklace back in the box, hands trembling. The beauty of the gift now seemed tainted by the sinister implications. Your friend's warnings echoed in your mind: *“I am not going to die because of your bad decisions!”* You couldn’t ignore the danger any longer.

Reaching for your phone, you dialed your friend’s number. She answered on the third ring, her voice groggy with sleep.

“Hey, it’s me. You were right. We need to talk.”

Later that day, your friend arrived, her face a mix of concern and frustration. You showed her the necklace, and she gasped.

“This is... gorgeous. But it’s also terrifying. How did he send this?”

“I don’t know,” you admitted, your voice shaking. “And I don’t know how he found my address.”

She paced the room, glancing nervously out the window. “We need to call the police. This is beyond creepy.”

You nodded, knowing she was right. The thrill of your pen pal had turned into something dangerous, something that required more than just caution. As you picked up the phone to dial the authorities, you couldn’t shake the feeling of eyes on you, the sense of being watched. The beautiful necklace now felt like a heavy weight, a symbol of the peril you had unwittingly invited into your life.

As you waited for the police to arrive, you couldn’t help but wonder about the man who had written such kind letters. Was he truly as dangerous as they said, or was there more to the story? Either way, you knew you couldn’t continue the correspondence. The price of your curiosity had become too high, and your safety was worth far more than any thrill or beautiful gift.

A few weeks had passed, and your friend continued to stay with her boyfriend, feeling guilty for leaving you alone but too scared to return. She called you every day, ensuring you were unharmed and feeling as well as could be expected. The police had stationed an officer outside your house during those weeks, but with no further incidents, they eventually recalled the officer. They advised you to call if anything came up, assuring you they would do their best to keep you safe. You had downplayed the threat, omitting any mention of your pen pal. Had they known the full extent, they might have placed you under witness protection.

Unfortunately, the eerie calm was shattered today.

The grey car had returned, and this time, you could make out the driver. He bore a stark resemblance to the picture you had seen of your pen pal, the world’s most dangerous criminal, now sitting outside your home, watching and waiting. But for what? What did he plan to do once you were alone?

You couldn't call out from work again, needing to maintain some semblance of normalcy. Steeling yourself, you put on your best intimidating face and walked to your car, though you felt more like a deer caught in headlights. Ignoring the piercing, watchful eyes of the man was harder than you imagined, but you managed to get into your car and drive away.

You knew it was foolish to drive to work, thinking he might follow you, but if he knew your address, he likely knew where you worked. At least at work, you'd be surrounded by people and security personnel. If he tried anything—which you doubted he would in such a public setting—there would be help nearby.

The day dragged on, dread gnawing at you. Your focus was shattered, and your supervisor almost reprimanded you until they realized how shaken you were. They backed off, giving you space to regain your composure. HR knew something was seriously wrong but couldn’t disclose details to anyone else, offering you a temporary reprieve.

But this day was particularly harrowing, and you barely made it through. As the workday ended, you practically sprinted to your car, seeking the relative safety it offered while there were still people around.

Home was a different story.

You entered, not realizing the door had been unlocked until you were already in the living room. Shock, dread, and fear flooded you as you saw him there, seated on your sofa.

He was casually examining a picture of you with your friend, family, and your old pet. He looked content, as if he belonged there, as if he were truly at home.

Panic surged. You wondered what he could do to you in such close quarters. Thick walls muted sounds from neighboring homes; no one would hear you in time. You felt paralyzed, unsure of what to do if he made a move.

He shifted his position, dropping one leg and crossing the other, all the while holding your gaze. He took in your presence, the real you, not just the image he had studied. You were no longer a picture, but flesh and blood, standing before him.

“Nice to meet you, [Your Name].”

You had never told him your real name, only an alias. Somehow, he had discovered your true identity, just as he had found your address.

“I hope you don’t mind my intrusion. I couldn’t resist, especially after a month of silence from you. I noticed you called the police. I'm quite impressed that you managed to keep my presence in your life a secret.”

You trembled, tears starting to well in your eyes and trickle down your face.

“Ah, don’t cry. I’m not here to harm you. What I have in mind will be much more pleasurable. For both of us.”

His words chilled you to the core. The beauty of the necklace, the allure of his letters, all seemed like a distant dream compared to the present reality. You stood frozen, unable to move or speak, as he smiled at you, his intentions shrouded in menace and mystery.

“I-I…”

The tears began to slow, your breath evening out as a semblance of calm started to return. He watched you closely, giving you a moment to dry your face and find the words that had eluded you.

But silence persisted. Your thoughts were in disarray, still grappling with the reality of his sudden presence. He seemed to sense your inner turmoil, knowing you needed time to process the situation. As he approached, his imposing figure loomed over you, each step bringing him closer.

Realizing his intent, you instinctively retreated, but his long strides easily closed the distance. Your back met the cold, unyielding wall, trapping you. You wished you could tear it down, burrow into an indestructible sanctuary, and escape the nightmare your life had become.

His proximity was overwhelming, a blend of menace and fascination, as you stood frozen, unable to tear your gaze from his. The intensity of the moment hung heavy in the air, a storm of emotions threatening to consume you both.

He continued to close the distance, his presence suffocating yet electrifying. You could feel the heat radiating from his body as he drew nearer, until he was mere inches away. He raised his arms, placing his hands on the wall on either side of your head, effectively caging you in. The scent of him, a mix of cologne and something distinctly male, enveloped you.

"Is this what you like?" he asked, his voice a low, tantalizing murmur. His eyes bored into yours, searching for a reaction.

Your breath hitched, the proximity overwhelming your senses. The thrill of fear and an unexpected surge of excitement coursed through you, leaving you dizzy and unable to respond.

"Tell me," he continued, leaning in even closer, his lips brushing against your ear. "Is this what you've been waiting for?"

The intensity of his gaze, the warmth of his breath, and the sheer force of his presence made it hard to think, let alone speak. You were caught in a whirlwind of emotions, your mind a chaotic mix of fear, confusion, and a strange, unwelcome attraction. His dominance was intoxicating, leaving you both terrified and inexplicably drawn to him.

His hands remained on the wall, trapping you, as his eyes continued to hold yours captive. The room seemed to shrink around you, the air thick with unspoken tension. In that moment, you realized you were at his mercy, and the realization sent a shiver down your spine.

The intensity in his gaze didn't waver as he spoke again, his voice a silken whisper. "Why don't you show me around? I'd like to see more of your home."

Your heart pounded as you nodded, feeling compelled to comply. Slowly, he dropped his hands from the wall, giving you a semblance of freedom, though his presence still dominated the space. He gestured for you to lead the way.

With trembling steps, you walked towards the staircase, feeling his eyes on you, a constant reminder of the danger and allure he embodied. The transition from the living room to the upper floor was surreal, the normalcy of your home tainted by his dark presence. Each step up the stairs felt like a journey deeper into an inescapable labyrinth.

You reached the top of the stairs and paused, glancing back at him. His expression was unreadable, but a faint, almost predatory smile played at his lips. You hesitated for a moment before pushing open the door to your bedroom.

"This is my room," you said softly, stepping inside.

He followed, his tall frame filling the doorway before he moved to the center of the room. He looked around, taking in every detail. The room, once a sanctuary, now felt exposed and vulnerable.

"Show me more," he instructed, his voice firm yet oddly gentle.

You led him to the adjoining bathroom, your hands trembling as you opened the door. The bathroom was small but neat, the shower glistening under the overhead light. He inspected it briefly, then turned back to you, his eyes locking onto yours.

"This will do nicely," he said, his tone casual but with an undercurrent of something more.

Your mind raced, the reality of the situation pressing down on you. "What do you want from me?" you managed to ask, your voice barely above a whisper.

He stepped closer, reaching out to gently brush a stray lock of hair from your face. "For now, just your cooperation. Tonight is just the beginning. After the night's activities, I might need a place to clean up."

His words sent a shiver down your spine. The ambiguity of "activities" left your mind reeling with possibilities, each more terrifying than the last. You found yourself nodding, unable to do anything else.

"Good girl," he murmured, his hand lingering on your cheek. "Now, let's make the most of our evening together."

His touch was both reassuring and sinister, a stark reminder of the control he wielded over you. “Take this off…”

You were shocked, appalled even, at such a request from a man you barely knew, despite the intimacy of his letters, the truths he shared, his truth.

You hesitated, glancing up at him with a mix of trepidation and a spark of rebellion.

He smirked slightly, as if he had anticipated your resistance. His hand reached out, but you scurried backward, clutching onto what felt like the last vestiges of your dignity.

He wasn’t taking no for an answer, not from someone who had shown him such genuine kindness, such unguarded affection for the first time in decades.

It dawned on you just how monumental a mistake that kindness had been.

As you stood there, frozen in your shock, he moved swiftly. In an instant, he had closed the distance between you, his strong hands seizing your blouse. The fabric bunched under his grip, the force of his hold sending a jolt through you.

“Don’t fight it,” he murmured, his voice a velvet threat. “You and I both know this was inevitable.”

His words hung heavy in the air, mingling with the palpable tension that seemed to throb between you. His touch, firm and unyielding, ignited a tumult of emotions within you—fear, defiance, and a disturbing undercurrent of something you couldn’t quite name.

“You think you can just come into my life and—” your voice faltered, the defiance wavering under the weight of his gaze.

“I don’t think, I know,” he interrupted, his tone commanding and confident. His eyes, dark and intense, bore into yours. “You invited me in with every letter, every secret you shared. This connection we have—it’s real. And now, it’s time to face it.”

Your breath hitched as he pulled you closer, the proximity making your heart race. The air between you crackled with an undeniable energy, a mix of danger and an inexplicable pull that left you both terrified and entranced.

“You’ve got me all wrong,” you whispered, desperation creeping into your voice.

“No,” he replied, his grip tightening ever so slightly. “I’ve got you exactly where I want you.”

His words sent a shiver down your spine, the reality of your situation crashing over you. The walls of your sanctuary seemed to close in, the room shrinking as his presence dominated. You were caught in his web, and the more you struggled, the more entangled you became.

With a final, firm tug, he brought you even closer, his breath warm against your skin. “Let’s see how this night unfolds,” he murmured, a promise and a threat woven into his words.

In that moment, you realized there was no escape. You were his, for better or worse, and the night was just beginning.

His deft hands worked quickly, yet with a surprising gentleness, as he pulled at your blouse. He was careful, mindful of not tearing buttons or threads, his touch respectful in its slow haste to undress you. Each movement seemed deliberate, as if he were savoring the unveiling of your skin, as if he knew the value of each delicate inch.

Once your clothing lay discarded, you stood before him in just your bralette and panties, exposed yet somehow still veiled in mystery. His eyes roamed over you, taking in the sight of a woman—a vision of beauty that left him breathless. He drank in every curve, every line, every delicate feature, his gaze lingering on each detail as if committing them to memory.

He had seen countless women in his lifetime, but none had captivated him quite like you. There was something about you, something ineffable and intoxicating, that drew him in, leaving him hungry for more.

In that moment, as you stood there before him, vulnerable yet unyielding, he realized just how much he craved you. And he knew, with a certainty that bordered on obsession, that he would stop at nothing to possess you completely.

You knew that begging would likely be futile, so you chose silence instead, allowing your gaze to wander anywhere but at him and what he was doing. But he seemed to revel in being watched, his ego swelling as he unveiled each layer of your clothing.

His touch was insistent as his index finger and thumb grasped your chin, forcing your gaze to remain solely on him. You felt a surge of defiance rise within you, but it was quickly quelled by the intensity of his gaze.

With practiced ease, he removed your bra, followed by your panties. The air between you crackled with tension as he exposed you completely, and you couldn't help but feel exposed and vulnerable under his scrutiny.

A low groan escaped him, barely audible but unmistakable. It was a sound of longing, of desire unleashed after years of confinement. You realized then just how long it had been since he had seen a living, breathing woman, and the thought sent a shiver down your spine.

You stood there, naked and exposed, feeling his eyes on you like a physical touch. There was something primal in the way he looked at you, as though he were seeing you for the first time, drinking in every curve and contour of your body.

You tried to maintain some semblance of composure, but it was difficult under his relentless gaze. You felt stripped bare, not just of your clothing but of your defenses, your vulnerabilities laid bare before him.

As he stepped closer, the heat of his body enveloping you, you knew that there was no turning back. The night stretched out before you, a vast unknown filled with equal parts fear and fascination. And as he reached out to pull you closer, you couldn't help but wonder what other surprises lay in store.

Your cheek pressed into the cold, quartz floor of your bathroom, every nerve ending alive with sensation. You could feel the weight of him behind you, his eyes drinking in the sight of your rear pressing against his hips. His blazer, shirt, and pants had been discarded, leaving him in just his boxers. Despite the fabric that still separated your bodies, you felt everything from him—his warmth, his strength, his desire.

He had positioned you in a neat arch, your body stretched taut, every muscle straining against the confines of your own submission. His command was clear: remain still, hold that position until he was ready to take you further.

You obeyed, every fiber of your being thrumming with anticipation and fear. The cold floor beneath you was a stark contrast to the heat that radiated from him, and the sensation only heightened your awareness of every touch, every breath that brushed against your skin.

Time seemed to stand still as you waited, your body poised on the precipice of something unknown. You could hear the steady rhythm of your own heartbeat, a counterpoint to the electric tension that hung heavy in the air.

And then, without warning, his hands were on you, tracing the contours of your body with a touch that sent shivers down your spine. His fingers were skilled, mapping every curve and dip with a precision that left you breathless.

You felt him shift behind you, his body moving with a fluid grace that belied the strength coiled beneath his skin. You were afraid of the movement, wanting to look behind you to see what exactly he was doing. And when you felt the tip of him nearing your heat, you redacted the beautiful arch he helped you to create for him and tried to squirm away.

Before you knew it, he had your hair twisted in his hand, pressing your head painfully further against the floor, his breath fanning over your ear. “Move again… and I will crack your skull over this floor and with this treasure I’ll summon something worse than death for you.”

And then, with a suddenness that stole your breath away, he entered you, filling you completely with a single, powerful thrust.

The sensation was overwhelming, a flood of pleasure and pain that threatened to consume you. You bit back a gasp, your body trembling with the effort to remain still as he took you further, deeper into the abyss of his desire. He was much too large to enjoy, your stretched muscles struggling to comprehend the intrusion.

And as he moved within you, each thrust driving you closer to the edge of oblivion, you realized that there was no turning back. You were his, body and soul, caught in the grip of a passion that threatened to consume you both. And in that moment, as he claimed you as his own, you surrendered to the darkness that beckoned, knowing that there was no escape from the depths of his desire.

By the time he was finished, you had orgasmed nearly six times. The final was barely an orgasm, he had edged you and slapped your ass. Breathy laughs finding your ears and somehow you felt yourself able to share his laughter. Your cunt clenched against his twitching length, a feeling he relished in.

Just when you thought he was finished, he pushed your legs apart as far as they would go, nearly into a split, pressing himself further into you, impossibly deeper. Your eyes bulged, hips tightened and your cunt contracted against his deep-seated length once more, your cervix contracting and relaxing in slow bouts against his tip. He lifted your hips, allowing him a new arch, fresh angle, and an even deeper reach.

You wanted to sob, to beg him to stop, but you also wanted to see what he would do in this position.

He reached one hand in front, taking your neck into his possession and he pulled back just enough to keep you stationary and choke you slightly at the same time, the angle would do the rest.

And slowly, he pulled back, allowing just the tip to remain before he thrusts intensely inside of you, pressing against the spot he knew would drive you insane.

And you cursed him, screaming out all sorts of obscenities and lewd things as he continued to abuse the same spot. His girth squeezed in and out of you with much effort, the tightened feel of your cunt in this position was the one thing that kept him grounded, eyes drawn into a focus on your connected bodies.

He had cum so many times and this position had him dangerously close to blowing his load again, but he held back just enough. He wanted to cum with you again.

Increasing his speed, he pushed and pulled inside your pussy, watching as it sucked him and pushed him out simultaneously.

“S’kunaaaa… Fuuuccckkk! Pl-please!”

He knew what you were begging for, screaming out his name for. And he was so close to giving it to you. He had to give you what you wanted since you had been so obedient for him all night. He was nearing his end, bringing his free hand down to your clit and rubbing dangerous circles and odd shapes into it, nearly ritualistic in his methods and just he groaned his approval, you squirted. Full-body quakes erupting, your eyes rolling back into your head. Anyone watching the scene would have thought you were having a seizure.

But Sukuna knew. And you knew.

It was simply nirvana.

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wosoragebaiter69 · 1 year ago

Text

the heart wants what it wants

alexia putellas x fem!reader

request: here & here

A/N: tried a diff writing style in this one, i think i like it better.

TW: swearing? (idk if it’s considered but i see other people doing it)

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National camp, you hated it. Nearly everything about it sucked. Keyword, nearly. It means you got to see her. The captain of Spain, and the captain of Barcelona. You know it’s probably not a good idea to fall for your ‘enemy’ but how couldn’t you? Faded pink hair, absolutely drop dead gorgeous. Who wouldn’t love that.

It would be easier if you weren’t so devoted to your own club, Real Madrid. The biggest rival of Barcelona. But that can be put aside for the little bit that comes with National camp, even if friend groups are very much seperate.

You wait as the rooms get announced. For who knows what, you get paired with Alexia. Olga sends a sly smirk to which you immediately slap her on the arm.

“Don’t you dare say a word Carmona.” Is all you say before lugging your bags and taking a keycard, heading towards the shared room.

“The bed on the window alright for you?” She asks, you nod.

You miss the way that she’s slightly nervous, and blushing. Too focused on trying to keep your own feelings at bay.

After unpacking everything, you’re laying on the bed staring at the ceiling, daydreaming which soon turns to actual dreaming when you fall asleep.

You’re woken up by a soft voice telling you that dinner is ready and to go down to everyone. It’s Alexia, you blush again looking away. Nodding before getting your shit together and moving on.

You walk down splitting from Alexia and going to sit down at a table with Olga, Ivana and Athenea.

“Don’t give me that look Olga.” You sigh as she smirks.

“I will make you do laps.” You threaten.

“You would not! I saved you a plate, look here.” She slides a plate over which you accept in thanks before turning to small talk with the girls.

Something which somehow goes unknown to everyone at your table, Alexia is watching. Receiving teasing from her own friends.

“Alexia, just ask her out already. My God it’s getting annoying of you two just blushing and staring at each other all day.” Jenni says to her friend, while they may be exes there’s still a lot of respect.

“I don’t know Jenni, she wouldn’t feel the same. We are captains of rival teams!” The dark haired spaniard rolls her eyes.

“Alexia.” This time it’s Misa. “I’m on the same team as her so let me. She says she has a crush but only Olga knows of it. And apparently it’s someone from another team. That’s all I know, but I did see Olga smirk when your rooms were read and then Y/N hit her whispering something.” She shrugs.

“If that doesn’t scream, my best friend is roomed with her crush and now she’s hitting me for pointing it out behaviour. I don’t know what is. You have until the end of camp to do this or I will ask her out for you myself.” The goalkeepers outburst surprises Alexia but she nods anyways, thinking that maybe tonight she’ll tell you. Maybe.

After dinner, and all the players are sent back to their respective rooms or to play games in the common area. You find yourself wondering around the hotel. Thinking about upcoming games and literally everything in between that.

After an hour or so of exploring different areas, finding a gym, swimming pool and jacuzzi you make your way back to the room where Alexia is pacing around.

“Penny for your thoughts?” This seems to get her out of the trance and she immediately looks up, blushing lightly. Is that a blush? You wonder.

“Lo siento, it’s nothing.” Your eyebrows light up in surprise.

“Well, if you need anything I’m right here.” She nods slowly, as if considering her options.

“Actually, there is something I’ve been meaning to ask.” She looks down nervously at her hands, fidgeting with them.

“Go ahead.” You answer lightly with a small smile.

“I was wondering… maybe you’d wanna go on a date?” Your eyes open wide, this wasn’t what you expected at all.

“Uhh, y-yeah! Sure. Like… romantic right?” You stutter as she relaxes and nods.

“Yeah, like that. Maybe when we have time to explore, the day before the game? We can find a place.” You nod.

“That sounds amazing, it should be fun.” After the conversation ends, you immediately message Olga the news. Who is… screaming in text messages.

- - - - -

Unable to keep a smile of your face for the next few days, it seems the team is doing alright given certain circumstances. Alexia does take you out on that date and it ends with a kiss that makes you feel like a high schooler experiencing their first love. Cheesy, but true nonetheless. The team hasn’t found out yet but the respective friend groups teased both you and Alexia relentlessly, which only resulted in blushing messes and stuttered words.

Sometimes, a little bit of encouragement and fate can work wonders.

#woso #woso x reader #woso community #woso fanfics #barca femeni #alexia putellas #alexia putellas x reader #espwnt #wlw

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lavandaea · 1 year ago

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smooth talker, powerful supernatural beings who are fluent in sarcasm and graduated from insufferable school being in love absolutely fucking whipped will always be my kind of thing.

I'm actually feral for that concept. Fight me if you dare.

Plus points if their partner it's as strong minded and colorful vocabularied/ eloquent as them.

Plus plus points if it's a love-hate relationship, full of bickering and unwanted feelings, DENIAL.

PLUS PLUS PLUS if they are a sad broken black cat (or smug orange, I won't complain) like who has lost all faith in humanity and could not care less about anything than themselves but actually the only thing they want more is some love and hugs and kisses. This being with or without their knowledge.

And then, their partner comes into their lives like saying "let me remind you how wonderful existing it's"

"Because I love you!"

"wait, WHY AM I JEALOUS?"

"what in the name of FUCK IS THIS APPARENTLY NAMED FEELING"

"Me?" points at themselves "with them?" looks at them doing the most weirdest thing. "Nah, there's no way".

"Who did this to you?" AAAAAAAAAAAA

The unbeatable "you are useful to me for this reason"/ I'm keeping you alive for this reason". At first it's true, BUT time goes on...and feelings are developed, they start using it as an excuse to protect them, to keep them close. To hide the undeniable truth.

UNTIL. THEY. DON'T. It's the moment they just want to be with them and have absolutely no fucks to give about what anyone says about it. They love this person and they want to make them happy.

It will always, always, always melt my heart the moment when A and B are looking at something really pretty, really nice and A says or asks "It's beautiful"/"Isn't it beautiful?"

And B that at first may have been looking at it says:

"Yes"

And then turns to A with that look of "I've loved you since the day I met you" to continue with

"It's beautiful"

I'll tell you, it never gets old for me.

PAST LIVES

SLOW. BURN.

SHARING HOUSE

SHARING BED

PARTNERS IN CRIME

TENDING WOUNDS

HAVING👏 EACH OTHER'S 👏 BACKS

THE ABSOLUTE LOOSERISM. I already kinda said it, but this is important shit.

GOING FEEERAL FOR THEIR LOVED ONE BEING HURT/ IN DANGER/ LOOKING FOR THEM (if I'm feral for this whole trope, I'm feral, for this one in particular) bonus points if glowing eyes, then you got me. Entirely.

AND THEN ANDTHENNN

when they go feral, primal, maybe even animalistic and don't have control of themselves or/and their powers and everything seems lost because they are idk, about to kill the one who hurt their darling to put an example. AND THEN THEY GET CALMED DOWN BY SAID DARLING.

"It's okay" "I'm okay" "Let's go home"

SHIT LIKE THAT AAAAA

"I'd let the world burn for you" type of shit is what fictionally gets my fingers twirling like a highschooler.

Being a soft squishy ball full of love but only with them. Fuck everyone else.

The two kinds of looks:

"Oh shit, I'm in love with you" look.

"I love being in love with you" look.

Please do and recommend more of these kinds of shows/films/comics, I will never have enough of them.

Oh, the hopeless romantic in me.

#doom at your service #tale of the nine tailed #my demon #netflix kdrama #kdrama #love between fairy and devil #hotel del luna #goblin #lucifer #when jasy whistles #tv shows #i may have started to play love&deepspace and may I say...Sylus??#love and deepspace #love and deepspace sylus #sylus #the judge from hell #love game in eastern fantasy #inuyasha #devil may cry??

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moonshynecybin · 6 months ago

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Sorry so random and hate to asking this like you’re google search engine but what is the deal with Vale and his parents lol

big question! im not sure how much you know so i'll generally cover as many bases as i can and sort of. gather some resources that might help you form a picture.

his dad: graziano rossi. former racer (his peak was finishing third in the 250cc class the year vale was born) who had to retire after some scary injuries (crucial for maximum vale neuroses). in terms of their relationship, first go peruse this webweave from @kwisatzworld. actually i frankly think theyre a better person to answer this question wholesale but i digress. important to note that vale straight up is like yeah he was not a good father lol. ALSO notable that graziano is asked what kind of son vale is and says 'one i can brag about to friends' which. okay. graziano also will not shut the fuck UP about vale in print (he was kind of the one to break rosquez not really being close friends anymore post-assen? for some reason??) which idk if my dad was constantly talking about me to reporters i would feel weird about that. like that is not something that i would enjoy. seems a bit like they have the sort of relationship dozens of us divorced children have with our parents where we can kind of only talk to our dad about sports.

additionally, his parents had him quite young (25 for graziano and in the thick of his racing career, unsure for his mom) and you get a sense that vale thinks they should not have done that.... he doesnt super call them 'mom' or 'dad', instead using their first names, he says they have a more 'friendly' relationship than parental, and apparently his dad and him just started saying i love you to each regularly uh. recently. heres a video of him talking about it (i get the sense the divorce exacerbated these issues as well). that being said i DO also think that vale is closer with his mom in general (she lived in his house for a long time! they lived together during covid as well!) (his mom is named stefania palma and shes a civil engineer, which i think kind ties into how journalists often mention that luca and vale talk about the bike like theyre engineers. i literally dont think that is coincidence, i think they got it from their super hot and smart mom...) heres a bit about her and graziano (x):

theres also LUCA. who is obviously his half brother (he has a few other half siblings on graziano's side, but they arent famous so we dont know as much. i get the sense they arent as close just by virtue of their difference in involvement w racing but its hard to say! its clear hes close with luca, ESPECIALLY after the academy really got going and luca got a bit older.) luca is born in 1997 when vale is 18 years old and just kicking off his career, so hes kind of never known a world where vale wasnt insanely famous. luckily and ironically his father is a sports psychologist. luca's story kind of ties in with stefania's (obviously), and here's a post about how some of the stuff going on in their lives mightve effected them and of course vale. idk why this became a luca treatise but hes important okay!!!! just a family with a lot going on that informs vale's whole deal (having much younger siblings and liking to teach perhaps as a result, his marriage feelings, his REPRESSION issues, how he shows love, how he self-protects, and a lot more. idk this is hardly comprehensive but hopefully it gives a little food for thought !

#also can i just say vale's relationship with his parents underrated in the vale repression agenda. they dont say i love you!! they dont hug.#also like. looking at how young marc is and being like hm. thinking about his parents who got married too young #motogp #callie speaks #asks #valentino rossi #the divorce apparently maybe being BECAUSE of the injuries that lead to graziano's retirement....#primer

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your-unfriendlyghost · 5 months ago

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Mason McCormick for the character thingy pls and thank you 🙏🙏🙏

Sweet, Mace! (Idk what my current design for him is but it looks like this rn lol)

How I feel about this character

I like him! He’s a lot like Darry, but I find him more relatable because of the sarcasm lol. He’s had to grow up too fast, and he needs to get outta Oklahoma poor guy. I wanna give him…not a hug, but a pat on the back maybe. And a parental figure who’s significantly better than his father. I like Mason. He’s like Darry if Darry got out. If Darry didn’t have Ponyboy, only Soda. If Darry didn’t have to stay so strong, I guess. Not that Mace isn’t strong, he’s hella strong. But idk, he did it. He got free and I’m sorta proud of him for that.

All the people I ship romantically with this character

No one really, but there’s no one his age he can really bounce off of in canon other than his buddy Robert Collins and I guess Lem. But he told Lem that he’d kill him if he ever saw him again, so…yeah, no, don’t think that’s gonna happen. If someone were to make a Mason x OC fic tho I’d probably read it even tho I don’t usually go for that kind of thing- idk I think I just wanna see Mason getting support and being happier lol

My non-romantic OTP for this character

Well, Tex, I guess. It feels like kind of an obvious answer, since their conflict is the story more or less, but idk. They’re brothers. They hate each other. They love each other. Mason needs independence, and Tex needs Mason. There’s no easy way out, and either way it’s gonna end sorta sadly. Not tragically like the Outsiders, but sadly. Bittersweetly.

“He’s my brother even if he ain’t your son.” ough. This line kills me in the best way.

My unpopular opinion about this character

He ain’t super well known so all the opinions I have are unpopular kinda lol. I think he’s shy, though. Not around Tex, obviously (who’s shy around their little siblings?), but at school. He’s popular, even though he’s apparently not as good-looking as some less popular guys, and he’s cold towards people or at least cool. I think he seems stuck up, when really he’s shy. (Like how Bryon saw Ponyboy in TWTTIN) He also seems kinda non-confrontational, maybe not outta shyness as much as…laziness? That’s not the right word exactly but I can’t think of a better one. But like how he didn’t warn Tex about having to sell Negrito, how he never once mentioned to Pop that he knew Tex wasn’t Pop’s son, how he wouldn’t tell Tex about why he was going to the hospital, and how he just lied about not wanting to go to the fair. (Ok that’s purely headcanon there. I think he wanted to go tho, or maybe he was lying to himself about not wanting to go.) I don’t think he likes delving into his thoughts about things if it takes too much effort, ig.

I also think he resents the fact that he’s from Bixby/Garyville (In the movie it’s Bixby, in the book it’s Garyville. Idk why.) and not Tulsa. There’s more opportunities in the city. I mean, Tex resents being seen as a country hick- I feel like Mason resents it just as much if not more. He likes being taken seriously.

Oh and idk if this counts as an unpopular opinion but I’m not that fond of the guy who played him in the movie. He did good, but he was not 18 istg. He was 31 and looked 31, which made it real hard to buy him as a stressed 18 year old. Not my Mason smh

One thing I wish would happen / had happened with this character in canon.

Idk, it woulda been nice to see him interact with his peers a bit more, like how we got to see Soda and Steve being friends in the bg of Outsiders…Then again, maybe he doesn’t have any friendships like that. I dunno if I do, so someone cold like Mason may not. He’s friends with Robert Collins tho, so that counts for something?

#mason mccormick #tex book #tex se hinton #tex 1982 #the outsiders #ask #ask game #rambling #my art

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oacest · 7 months ago

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My thoughts on the audio are that I genuinely cannot come up with a sane explanation. I don't think Liam was necessarily in the studio but he has to be talking about him, right? Like IDK there was some visual effect or whatever, literally who else could be the cunt Noel doesn't want to see. Beyond which I am not a proper scholar so please let me know if I'm way off base but I have an extended divorce theory that goes:

2009: Breakup, they're both big mad for a minute

201?-2012: They are texting and like, sending their kids to the same school. possibly the most normal they've ever been.

2013-2015: Liam blows his entire life up and is extremely sad about the consequences of his own actions. I saw actual video footage of Noel saying that he's shocked beady eye broke up and he's actually sweet about it and tells Liam not to give up? who is this man. anyway while Liam will later claim Noel wasn't there for him during the divorce but as a general rule they're much nicer about each other when they're divorcing other people. this is where I become extremely conspiratorial because at some point they had to get the documentary off the ground and a second, more personal breakup is clearly going down around this time. I believe in their ability to deeply wound each other by playing cryptic telephone through the press but I think it genuinely makes more sense if they were actually talking, perhaps about a potential reunion.

2016-2020: supersonic documentary and also (coincidentally?) the apocalypse. Liam launches his solo career, Noel hates it and is pretty relentlessly mean about it and about Liam more generally. we are gearing up for the kind of tweeting/podcast commenting where you call your brother your ex-wife. I think this is also when Noel decides to drag Molly into it for some reason. Liam says publicly that he thinks Noel was waiting for him to hit rock bottom so he could be magnanimous about saving him. whether he thinks this because of something concrete noel did or said or because he's liam is a mystery. the Anais incident goes down, the vogue article comes out. we are never ever getting back together for real this time. noel says a bunch of normal and well adjusted stuff about how he wants Liam to die in a self driving car crash with Donald Trump and seeing his face makes him want to shoot up a MacDonalds.

2020-2022: the pandemic saves oasis. I'm serious. they're both stuck sitting at home with nothing to distract them from themselves and think of brighter days. apparently being trapped in a house with noel is genuinely so unbearable that Sara calls it quits (in the matter of Sara v. Noel I'm on her side). presumably this was cause for at least some self reflection. divorce is a lonely and difficult experience, sara and liam seem to legit hate each other in a way that would be a barrier to reconciliation (in the matter of Sara v. Liam I am also on her side but less so bcs she didn't get trapped in a house with him). at the same time Liam pulls off Knebworth 2022, demonstrating he can handle big events without headcasing (and without noel, and he will be doing those big events solo or otherwise). at this point I genuinely think it was just a matter of time before we were back, baybeee! let's hope they can keep it together.

bro your brain is so huge and deeply wrinkled, profoundly agree with all of this. why you on anon when your opinions are so correct and you could be sharing them with us directly tbh 👀.

but yeah, 100% covid saved oasis lmao. noel's divorce saved oasis. noel's miserable midlife crisis (ongoing) saved oasis 🥰🥰🥰. and it juuuuuust really seems like all those insane highs and lows that went on publicly in the media between them over the years probably, or at least quite possibly, had irl personal catalysts rather than just a general holdover of ill will from the 2000s. there are so many random little times one or both of them casually mentioned they were in contact, and any one of those instances can be disregarded, but when considered in retrospect from a collective standpoint..... AWFULLY DAMNING!!!

lots more to say about all of this actually, every point you've made is legit af and could be expounded upon for a hundred years, but it's midnight and im coming down with a flu (punishment for some kind of hubris im sure), so. thank you for all of this and goodnight 🙏

#communiques

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lemotmo · 12 days ago

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I know a lot of us have said at this point we don’t care how we get buddie canon we just want it because we’ve been waiting for it for so long now. Which fair because it’s been years lol.

I’m not dooming or well I’m not trying to anyway so i apologize if it comes off as such but im curious on your thoughts and if after the last few episodes you’ve changed your mind and become a little more actually yeah i would rather them not do it this way and do it this way instead?

Because for me I was def at the point of I don’t even care how it’s done at this point as long as it’s done but I do believe we have hit a point of yeah actually scratch that I do care.

Because this? If this is how they are going for buddie canon? I can’t say I’m a fan of it. No one is happy. The vibes are completely off. The dynamic between them is off because the show has taken Eddie Diaz main character and turned him into

“This week With Guest Star Ryan Guzman, playing Eddie Diaz, Evan Buckleys Love Interest”

And I just. I don’t want that. I can’t imagine anyone wants that. We know for sure Ryan and Oliver don’t want that. They have said so many times they don’t want Buddie unless it’s with them keeping their dynamic and relationship in tact. And you can not do that when you suddenly sideline one of them and treat them like a guest star love interest. All their development happens off screen. They aren’t in the episode unless it’s to propel the others storyline and then they disappear for weeks at a time again. Moments between them happen off screen.

Idk. I guess congrats to Tim because he apparently did find a way to show me I’m not just a I don’t care beyond it happening after all.

#giveEddiehismaincharacterstatusback

First, I want you to know that I fully respect your views and your opinion here. I don't think you are dooming at all. You are just concerned and disappointed. I get that.

But my opinion is quite the opposite of yours. 🤷‍♀️ Let me explain:

Have they treated Eddie really badly these last episodes? YES! YES! YES! Did I hate the way they treated him? YES!

He should have been notified about Bobby's death. Hell, he should have been in the episode in the first place. They never should have done the Vertigo plot either. It was just one bad idea after another for Eddie.

Eddie Diaz' story has been sidelined for waaaay too long and I HATE it! I've been pretty vocal about it too.

I loved how he seemed to get some focus in the beginning of 8b. I was so relieved to see his storyline progress. I didn't even mind him not being in 8x11, because while he wasn't physically present, he was THERE in everything Buck said and did.

Eddie is my favourite character and I would gladly watch this show just for him and him alone, even if he did only have 2 minutes of screen time last episode. I'm there.

I think the idea behind having Eddie move to El Paso was two-fold:

A. They needed to find a way to get Chris back.

B. They wanted to show us how much Buck missed Eddie and how Buck and Eddie's lives are so intertwined that their friendship never faded into nothing. They were constantly in contact with each other.

They did a good job with that in the first half of 8b, but then 8x14 happened and he wasn't there at all. Now, logically I understand what they were trying to do here. They wanted the audience to wonder if Eddie would ever come back and if he might stay in Texas forever.

The problem is that it was pretty clear from the get go that Eddie was never going to stay in Texas in the first place. Ryan's name was still in the credits, as was Gavin's. There was no exit announcement and in interviews Ryan never said anything about Eddie leaving forever.

So Eddie was always going to come back. Everybody knew this. In that case, why couldn't they find a few seconds to add in someone calling Eddie to tell him about Bobby?

And when he finally did come back, he was only there to eyefuck with Buck, eat crumpets and look gorgeous while a tear was rolling down his cheek.

I do think this was all plotted and planned to make us wonder if we wouldn't only lose Bobby, but Eddie as well. But the execution of the storyline fell flat. No one liked Eddie's absence and everyone was very vocal about it as well. 😋

But I do think the Buddie dynamic and relationship is still very much intact Nonny. I don't see a problem there. I'm sorry. Eddie was only gone for 2 episodes and in the third one Buck picked him up and brought him home. I mean, they picked up right where they left of.

So I can't lie. I'm very happy with this progression. I do expect some more Eddie scenes and development in the next two episodes. I think we'll see more of him then. But as usual, only time will tell if my expectations will be met. 🤷‍♀️

And as for the vibes Nonny? The vibes are still very much there for me. Even in those brief minutes he was on screen in 16, he got to spend those minutes practically glued to Buck's side. They were presented to us as a unit, which I found very interesting.

Their connection and chemistry still has soooo much untapped potential. Their story still needs to be told.

I love Eddie so much and I want to see him achieve the kind of happiness he dreams of. And I do think that finally admitting that he is in love with Buck, a man and his best friend, will set him on the path of joy.

Same for Buck by the way. The man has been looking for love for his entire life. He has been left too many times. It's time for him to recognise what real love looks like, embrace it and just go for it.

These two idiots are perfect for each other.

So yes Nonny, no matter how Buddie begins, I will be sat and I will be there every single step of the way.

It's just how I roll.

¯\(ツ)/¯

#nonnies galore #buddie #buddie speculation #buddie expectations #911 8b #911 8b speculation

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nin-twst · 2 months ago

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Welcome to Marga- I Mean- Maquiaville!

Part 1

SUMMARY: Yu gets a one-in-a-lifetime opportunity to accompany Vil to a prestigious film festival! That is to say... What horrors will ruin her somewhat peaceful school life this time?

A/N: i was gonna do silly goofy comics but i got insane art block so writing it is!! idk i just thought i wanted to start writing more so why not start w the events? as always stay hydrated have fun <33

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“Prefect, I have a favor to ask of you.”

Yu looked up from her spot in one of Night Raven College’s many gardens. Vil was approaching her, a nonchalant air around him despite the crowd of people following behind him.

“Yes?” She put down her laptop, taking a brief break in her work. “What’d you need?”

“I am to attend an event, and I wish for you to come along,” Vil responded, ignoring the protests and begging from the students behind him.

“Just me?”

“I am able to bring three others.”

“As such,” Azul interrupted, adjusting his glasses with a smirk. “I have a proposal to choose the remaining three. A lottery is only fair, no?”

Jamil raised his hand. “I hate to admit it, but I agree.”

“Yeah! Fair is fair, right?” Ace exclaimed. “And you’re not getting off the kook either, Prefect!”

Vil scowled. “I specifically requested for them, so-”

“No, no.” Yu cut him off. “I agree. Fair is fair.”

A lottery meant there was a chance she wouldn’t be chosen, and that would be one less event she would have to participate in. If there was anything she learned, anything off campus meant trouble. As curious as she was about exploring Sage’s Island, her laziness trumped any other feeling.

Yu was the last to arrive at the mirror chamber. Jamil, Azul, Ace, and Vil were all casually chatting. She would normally care about making them wait, but the fact that she wanted to rest in her room was outweighing her guilt. Maybe if she was late enough, they would ditch her…

Yeah, right. As if Vil would let that happen.

“I never said anything about how you decided,” Vil said as she got close enough to hear their conversation. “Thus, there is no reason for me to object to your methods.”

“And there’s our lucky boy!” Ace patted her back as she joined the group. “I rigged the lottery, and you ended up getting chosen anyway! It must be fate, ey?”

“Right,” she said through clenched teeth, tightening her fists. “Right…”

As they stepped through the mirror, she let out a breath at the mess she was about to walk into. What was the world up to this time?

Hollywood, apparently.

While the other three were gawking at the sight, she started to dissociate. There’s no way she could afford anything, and Vil was most definitely going to dress them up for the film festival. That meant one of two things: he was being generous to preserve his image or he was expecting something out of them in return. While the first one seemed unlikely, it wasn’t entirely plausible. Before being a Night Raven College student, Vil Schoeinheit was a renowned actor. With his seemingly infinite amount of funds, it would behoove him to ensure his guests wouldn’t ruin his reputation as the fairest of them all. On the other hand…

Well, he is a Night Raven College student.

“A live action Beautiful Queen?” Jamil questioned, catching her attention. “Fascinating…”

“That’s a super popular one!” Ace exclaimed.

“Yes, yes.” Vil led them towards what looked like a fancy strip mall. “Even though I am only a model, I have a duty not to disappoint my fans.”

Her intuition was starting to seem more and more correct. It was getting scarier each step closer they got to the luxury stores. Yet, her companions were none the wiser. Stupid adult experiences ruining her ability to suspend her disbelief. She couldn’t even pay attention enough to notice Ace and Azul bouncing around the different displays.

They stopped in front of what seemed to be a clothing store, except it was one she would only dream of stepping into. It’s like the ones seen in movies and TV shows. Not real life.

Never real life.

“This-!” Both Jamil and Azul exclaimed in recognition. Never a good sign.

“We’re shopping at Luxe?” Azul’s jaw hit the floor. “That’s the high-end store of high-end stores!”

“What’s that?” Grim huffed. “Doesn’t sound very tasty to me…”

“Luxe is like-” Ace gestured wildly. “It’s everywhere! It’s the brand!”

Yu couldn’t say that she had heard of it before, but she felt her and Grim were exceptions. One was a magical creature from who knows where and the other was from a different dimension. If there were to be any outliers, it would be them.

“These fabrics…” Jamil commented. “I’ve heard of the quality, but it’s something different seeing it in person.”

Vil smiled. “You have a good eye, then.”

“The Scalding Sands does a lot of business in the fabric industry. I happened to pick a thing or two.”

A worker approached them with a customer-service smile on their face. “Surely you must know the value of our curtains, then.”

The fucking curtains? Sure, Yu could admit she didn’t know much about fabrics and clothes, but what did the curtains have to do with anything? Despite her thoughts, Jamil was amazed over the drapes, going back and forth with the employee with Vil chiming in every so often. She didn’t get it, and she didn’t think she would ever get it. Oh well.

Ace whistled. “Damn. I could only imagine wearing luxury clothes like these!”

“Of course. We’re only students, after all,” Jamil retorted.

“Kalim could buy the whole store, though!”

“...He doesn’t count.”

Yu had to agree with him on that one. Actually, was there a housewarden that wasn’t insanely rich? Damn- She should have gotten closer to them faster!

Another employee stepped onto the floor, but he was dressed more fancily. A manager, perhaps?

“Mr. Schoenheit,” he said. “What a pleasure to do business with you once more.”

Oh no.

Vil smiled in return. “The pleasure is mine. I am here to pick up my order.”

Oh no.

#my writing #twisted wonderland #twst oc #vil's red carpet cadets #vil schoenheit #azul ashengrotto #ace trappola #jamil viper #im like flip flopping between canon and not #i want to divert but also idk how canon will go #so #lots of context is left out bc im writing this as i play the event #see u (hopefully) soon for part 2 👍

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