#if this sounds patronizing i don't mean it to
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spaceshipkat · 1 day ago
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grump gripe grief on tumblr dot com
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en-qq · 2 months ago
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i watched the first episode of the usotoki rhetoric live action and
a) i'm really mad about them making kanokos mother lie to her when she told kanoko to come back when things get too hard for her, when this is *the very thing* that didn't happen, which the original made an entire point of by dedicating a whole arc to it
b) i love the rest so much lol like, when sensei told tarou-chan there's nothing more expensive in life than something you get for free, a direct quote from the later chapters from senseis and hanasakis time in highschool-->i guess this means we won't get outright flashbacks, but i'm actually fine with that, i think i like sprinkling hints here and there more as a choice (though i suppose this could mean kanoko-mother-arc won't be happening either). also, no idea if this was intentional or not, and it's not like we got any ages or anything confirmed, but i like that kanokos actress is in her late twenties as opposed to late teens lol maybe they'll try to tell us she's totally 16 guyzz like in the manga, but for now i'm headcanoning her being a bit older lol also i loved the scene where she fought over the fish with inari so much omg. i wonder how much will adapted, i haven't researched anything about the live action, so i got absolutely no idea but i imagine (if they aren'T DOING KANOKO-MOM-ARc i guess) the sensei gets accused and subsequent shirou arc will take up most of the time; i just hope it stays as truthful to the original as it has been so far, there were scenes where i was amazed simply because it looked exactly like in the manga, down to the camera perspective lol
c) also this is another bulletpoint because i don't know where to put it in b) not because it's so important as is the case with a), we didn't get a lot of chiyo action yet, but the bit we did get was great lmao i loved the scene where she was mimicing her father behind his back when he apologized for her behaviour so much lmao
i can't wait for tomorrow aaaaaa
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clamorybus · 7 months ago
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i complain about my parents a lot on here but honestly, i know im very fortunate to have them
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ghostsprincess · 1 month ago
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I can't stop thinking about Ghost being such a gentleman when your boyfriend is an ass....
warning: domestic abuse, adult language
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You were mortified that it happened at work this time...
Your boyfriend was a brute of a man, made worse over the months by drinking alone at night while you bartended to help pay down your student debts from several years ago. He got a little rough with you, but only when he was plastered. And you forgave him, because he was decent the rest of the time.
But suddenly you had to start coming to the pub to pull pints with a little extra makeup on your face. The random patrons out for a casual drink wouldn't have noticed, but your regular boys did. You only knew them by Ghost and Soap. They were military and mean looking, but they laughed together like teenage schoolmates. It was always a good night when they sat at the bar, but you could often feel their eyes on you.
"Y' alright, love?" Ghost asked the first night you wore extra eye makeup and a bright red lipstick.
"Yes," you told him, not meeting his eyes. Your face hurt. Your boyfriend had slapped you two days ago. Your skin was puffy and bruised, and you were embarrassed and afraid to move out, so you stayed. "You boys need another round?"
They left you a sizable tip. They always did.
The next time you saw them, your lip was split open, and you were desperate for a way out of the mess your life had turned into. Trying to hide your face while you mixed drinks was a chore, and as soon as Ghost and Soap arrived, you knew it was useless.
When Soap disappeared toward the washrooms, Ghost leaned across the bar, his hulking shoulders taking up more than their fair of space, making you smile slightly. His voice was deep and soft, but his words made you shiver and freeze with your hand on a pint glass. "Y' know, a pretty little thing like you belongs on a pedestal. A man should touch you with reverence."
You stared at him silently as his eyes tracked the mark on your lip. When Soap returned, you didn't charge them a cent for their drink, but they tipped you well anyway.
When a confrontation happened at the bar, tears stung your eyes, and you wanted to hide. Your boyfriend was drunk and angry, and tonight he beckoned you from behind the bar to a dark corner near the hallway where he could have some privacy while he berated you and roughed you up.
"Please," you begged, running your hands nervously on your shirt. "Just go home. I'll be off work in an hour."
"How many of them have you fucked?"
"What?" you gasped, thinking he'd finally lost it. "What are you talking about? I need to get back to work."
He pushed you up against the wall with his other hand on your jaw. "How many of the men here tonight have you fucked?" His thumb brushed the spot on your lip that was nearly healed, and you flinched. "You have the guiltiest expression. So, tell me how much of a slut you've been. As your boyfriend, I need to keep you in line."
Then he was being hauled away from you as your legs shook. With wide eyes, you watched Ghost's massive bicep wrap around his neck like it was nothing. "Y' alright, love?" he asked you softly, and you nodded without saying a word. Then his face darkened, and his voice was an angry snarl as he told your boyfriend, "Ya' been relieved of your duties."
"The fuck?" he responded from his headlock, gasping for air.
Ghost sighed and rolled his eyes. "Fuckin' prick don't even know military protocol." Then he raised his voice a little louder. "I said, ya' been relieved of your duties. I'll take over from here."
Somehow, you found your voice. "Take over?"
Ghost's face softened again when he looked at you there against the narrow hallway wall. "With the boyfriend duties," he told you while Soap dragged your ex-boyfriend toward the exit. "Sound good, love?"
He was holding out his big paw of a hand, palm facing up, and you knew he'd be incapable of using it to hurt you. The softness in his gaze right now and every time he looked at you was proof enough of that. You didn't respond, but you smiled as you slid your hand into his grasp.
"That'll do for now," he grunted.
That was the night you came to know him as Simon.
💀
Part two
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dollfacefantasy · 4 months ago
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can't get started ♡
older bf!logan howlett x fem!reader
logan can't get it up one night and is humiliated. but that just means he'll have to prove he can still satisfy you.
cw: nsfw (18+), smut, p in v, daddy kink, age gap (reader in 20s)
a/n: the part in dpw where he said he's got whiskey dick with the claws turned me on too much tbh
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This had never happened to Logan before.
That wasn't a lie he was telling you to make himself look less pathetic. It wasn't an affirmation he repeated in his own head to feel like he was still hot shit. It was the truth. One he would swear to on anything.
He'd never had a problem getting it up before.
Not with you, not with anyone. He thought the healing factor made him immune to whiskey dick or any kind of down-there dysfunction. But apparently not. Because the two of you finally had some time alone after being amidst the chaos of the mansion all day and his body was stalling.
The second he had the bedroom door shut, you were dragging him over to the bed and climbing into his lap. You were doing everything like usual. Your lips pressed against his, and then moved to his jawline and down his neck. Your hands glided across the firm muscles of his chest. Your hips rolled down against his lap, beckoning the appendage between his legs to reciprocate your desire.
But it just wouldn't. He tried to make it because it wasn't a matter of not wanting you. He wanted you bad. 
He grabs your chin and brings your lips back up to his mouth so he can communicate his passion wordlessly. He digs his fingers into your hips, feeling the beginnings of where your flesh swells into your ass. He envisions how you'd been prancing around the whole day, cute tits pushing against the fabric of your t-shirt and calling out for him to grab.
You're so soft and warm. The little mewls that leave your lips sound like calls of angels up above. It doesn't matter though. His cock had clocked out for the night.
"God damnit," he grumbles before brushing you off his lap and bringing his fist down against the mattress. He sighs and his head hangs.
He can already sense the look on your face. Worry, hesitation, and affection swirling into one humiliating look. He feels your hand find his shoulder, the touch tender and accepting.
"It's ok, Logan. We don't have to," you say. Your tone is so soft and gentle, and it just drives him fucking nuts.
"But you want to," he says and looks over at you. The look in your eyes kills him. He knows you don't mean it, but it looks so patronizing. As if he's an old dog about to be taken out back and old yeller'd.
"Yeah but I don't want you to force yourself. We can just cuddle," you offer, sweet as can be.
"It's not forcing, I want to do this. I want you so bad," he says and cups your cheek. He pulls you back onto his lap and nuzzles your neck. "Been thinking about this all day."
You let out a little sigh as he lays some kisses on the column of your throat, and that gives him a spark of hope. Maybe he can do this. Maybe he doesn't have to be put out to pasture just yet. The two of you make out and grind and feel each other up some more. But eventually your tits are all but in his face and his dick still doesn't have a pulse.
He huffs and pulls back. 'Fuck, I'm sorry, sweetheart," he says.
You watch him, the gleam in your eyes as adoring as ever. It was the same look you gave him when you'd have to explain a basic function of a cell phone to him.
"It's ok. You don't have to be embarrassed," you reassure and lean in to peck his cheek.
He groans and gently brushes you off. "Don't. I don't need you coddling me."
"I'm just saying. I understand," you say with conviction, hands splaying on your chest to physically convey your empathy, "It happens to lots of guys when they get older. You don't have to be ashamed of it with me."
And in that moment, he wishes he didn't have his mutation so he could just die on the spot from being utterly mortified. He'd actually have preferred if you laughed in his face and called him an old man. A sad, old, perverted fuck who decided to date some half his age even though he couldn't keep up with her appetite. If you'd told him you were gonna find someone who could satisfy you, it probably would've stung less than being talked to like a patient who doesn't know their cancer is terminal.
There was no chance in hell, you'd ever do any of that though. As much as he hated that fact right now, it was part of why he loved you.
All he does is mumble a thank you and kiss the corner of your mouth. He doesn't just cuddle you after though. He gets you off on his thigh. You were still going to cum even if he couldn't. When you're done, he holds you close and rubs your back till you're sleeping curled up to his side.
His night isn't very restful though. It's haunted with the prospect of future incidents like this, of your perception of him changing. The look in your eyes changing from admiration to pity.
He can't live with that. The next day for the two of you is super busy, but he makes sure there's a spot at the end of it for him to secure his redemption.
This time around it's him carting you away from the others once the sun is down, mouth on the curve of your neck before you even reach the bedroom. His hands grope your waist and paw at your tits. You stumble into the door, bumping it loud enough that you'd be worried about someone hearing you if they weren't all downstairs.
"Logan..." you giggle. You push your ass back against him and glance at him out of your peripheral.
"Not what you're gonna be calling me before the night is done, sweet thing," he grunts and boosts you up.
Your legs press into his sides to support yourself as he opens the door. He takes the two of you inside and kicks it shut behind him before heading to the bed and tossing you on the mattress.
You look up at him with a coy smile, arms propping you up and one of your legs extended to entice him.
"You know... you don't have to prove anything to me, right?" you say.
"Oh, I don't?" he asks and grabs your ankle, pulling you to the edge of the bed so your hips meet, "You're too easy to please, babydoll."
Another laugh bubbles through your lips. Your legs drop to lock around his waist. "I'm just saying. It's like totally normal, and I don't want you to get all grumpy about it."
"Oh, I get grumpy, do I?" he asks as he leans over you. His large body envelopes yours on the mattress. He ducks down further to swallow your words up with kisses.
You hum into the exchange but pull back a little to finish your thought.
"Mhm, you do. And I just don't want you to feel that way cause I knew when we got together what I was getting into," you say.
Your confidence is so cute. You talk with absolute certainty, like you understand all there is to be understood about him. Like you'd known him forever and he hadn't been doing things like this for decades longer than you walked this earth.
His mouth crashes against yours again, his body weighing down on you and crushing you into the mattress. 
"You did, hm? You knew what you were getting into? You got with me thinking I wouldn't be able to give it to you how you need all the time?" he mutters against your skin.
"I didn't mean it like-"
"Didn't mean it like that? How'd you mean it then, sweetheart?"
"I dunno..."
"Doesn't sound like you knew what you were getting into to me," he breathes.
That little sentence that you'd said in an attempt to comfort him unlocked something between the two of you. He felt his cock waking up and pressing against his zipper, eager to get out and slide home. It's hard to register your clothes being pulled off when he's got his tongue in your mouth and his fingers playing with your clit. In no time at all, he's got the both of you bare and his cock nestled between your thighs.
Like he already knew, the issue last night had never been about lack of desire. And he intended to prove that to you, fuck you so good it wiped your memory of any placating word that fell from your lips.
He ruts into you hard. The mattress rocks on the bed frame and threatens to slide off. His dick is big and even though it's not a new sensation for you, each time you take it is a stretch. It's even more so when he pushes you up by the back of your knees. You whine as you're folded in half. His thrusts hit your sweet spot every time at this angle.
"Thought you knew what you were getting into?" he teases as he pistons himself in and out.
You mewl and bob your head, though you aren't sure if you're shaking your head or nodding.
"Fuckkkk, Logan. 'm sorry," you pant. Your walls squeeze tight around his shaft as your eyes close up. He made every part of your body contract and feel like it was moments from exploding.
He simply laughs at your apology. "Don't gotta be sorry. You didn't do anything wrong. I'm just showing you what happens when I get older."
His balls hang heavy and swing with each motion, clapping against your ass. The heat between your legs is enough to make you squirm. Constant whimpers pour from your lips as he fucks into you without mercy.
"I know," you moan, "You fuck me better than anyone else."
"That's right," he grunts, "Nobody else could fuck you like this. Just me."
"Mhm, just daddy," you slur and cling onto him tighter. Your arms hook around his neck and keep his sweaty skin flush against yours.
"Just daddy," he repeats, his tone smooth like silk despite his raspy voice, "You don't need anyone else. Not when I can take care of you like this."
His tip prods at your cervix, making you yelp and buck. He doesn't stop though, just keeps battering into you, hammering into your warm, wet hole.
"You don't need any little boys thinking they know how to handle you," he breathes and nuzzles your neck, "Your old man can handle you just fine, make you cum whenever you need."
A strangled cry leaves your lips. Your nails dig into his back so hard that it seems like you wanted to draw blood. His words just make you melt for him. Reduce you down to a compliant jumble of flesh for him to mold and play with how he wants.
"Needa cum right now, daddy," you whine.
"I know you do, spoiled girl. You act so understanding, but I know that little pussy is aching to cum around my cock. To get filled up with my cum," he murmurs.
You nod wildly.
He chuckles at your eagerness and snaps against you even harder.
"Hold on tight, baby," he whispers.
His hips ricochet off your ass, clapping against you with intensity that borders on violent. You squeal and hang on as directed. Your whole body rocks with his momentum. Your head bobbles around like it's empty, which it is. Empty of everything but him.
"Fuck fuck fuck fuck," you whimper.
"Let it out for me. Let me feel you burst, pretty girl," he grunts as he continues plowing into you.
Your body rolls. Your hips vibrate with the ecstasy release brings you. It crashes over you in one intense wave, like a gallon of liquid euphoria being poured over you. Your eyes flutter, and you bury your face in his neck like he has his in yours.
He fucks you through it. Coos in your ear too. "That's my baby. My sweet girl. Always sound so pretty when you're cumming."
One of your hands flies up to clutch at his thick, dark hair. Keeping him close keeps the words flowing.
"Getting so tight for me, fuck. No one can make me cum like you, honey. Drains me dry every fucking time."
Moments later he spurts into you, unloading thick ropes of his spend inside you. You let out another moan from that sensation alone. He growls and pants against your skin, his hands locking you in place as his hips pummel into your cunt and make sure every last drop has been released.
He lingers on you for a few moments before pulling out. His body feels loose in the afterglow. He stands at the edge of the bed and looks down at himself and then you. He knows he's gonna have to clean you up. Your inner thighs are shimmery with a mix of fluids, and the bush of dark hair at the base of his cock is in the same condition.
"Time to shower, baby?" he asks and pats your leg. You don't respond at first and he smirks. "Or did I tire you out too much?"
You whine something incoherent and shift to turn your face against the blankets. His smug look grows. He crawls over you again and nips at your jaw, rubbing his nose against your cheekbone.
"You know, it's ok, sweetheart. It's nothing to be embarrassed about. It's totally normal for pretty little things like you. I knew that going in."
His tone mimics your soft and understanding one from earlier. You make a little growl and swat at his bicep.
“Shut up, old man.”
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enbyhyena · 5 months ago
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Hey, wait! Please stop scrolling for a sec!
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Please bear with me and read to the end! I promise it'll be worth it.
My name is Nexys, and I am queer and disabled. For years I have been striving to create the most tight-knit safe space (that's ACTUALLY safe) on the internet, using content creation as common ground. And we're really starting to take off!
But I need your help. Please reblog this post so that I may meet new people and make new friends! My community has been lifechanging, both to myself and to the people within it. I really feel like my Twitch, YouTube, and Discord communities have been making a difference in the lives of some of the most disadvantaged and marginalized people in the LGBT and neurodiverse communities.
We often play games like Minecraft, Stardew Valley, Harvest Moon, and Pokémon, with the occasional challenges and other genres thrown in. Sometimes we even invite our chat to play the games with us! So if this sounds like the sort of community you'd be interested in, please join our Discord Server so you don't miss out!
I'm a small creator, and due to my disabilities cannot hold down a normal 9-5 job, so any support and engagement from you—time or money—is a lifechanging opportunity that could potentially alter the course of my life and the lives of my loved ones. Even just dropping in to say hello would mean the world to me!
But I know time is a precious resource, so if you're too busy to sit in with us but still want to support the cause, for as little as $1/month you can become a Patron or for one-time donations buy me a Ko-fi! And depending on what you choose, there may even be some free artwork and other fun perks in it for you!
Thank you so much for your time! Me and my community really hope to meet you, and we hope that you, dear reader, have a fantastic rest of your day/night! Happy Pride!
❤️🧡💛💚🩵💙💜🩷🤍🩶🖤🤎
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lifetimeoftired · 3 months ago
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Thought more on the 'Batfam in Danny's world' stuff.
Red Robin: What is this? -holds up a clunky early 2000s device he found in Danny's room between his pinched fingers, like it might bite him- Danny: Oh, my PDA? Tucker insisted on buying it for me but honestly I'm not really that great with tech so I don't use it much. He usually follows me around trying to manage my schedule with it. Red Robin: Concerning but, more concerning, this thing... Works? Danny: It's the latest model, so it should? Red Robin: Latest... -trying not to cringe- How do you connect to the internet on it? Or take pictures? Danny, with genuine excitement: Your PDA can do that!? Man, that sounds way cooler than the plastic that lets you see all the stuff inside! Red Robin: I'm In Hell.
Spoiler: Having villains for parents is the worst right? Danny: I mean, my mom accidentally brings the food to life and it tries to bite us. But the keyword is 'accidentally'. They're mostly harmless. Spoiler: They literally just shot at you??? Danny: They shot at Phantom. They don't know it's actually me you know? Also I don't even worry about it. They don't have very good aim since I'm not a danger to them and Dad only gets badass when mom is in danger. Mom's always a badass but it's good dodging practice. Besides, I'd be more worried about them dissecting me, what with the whole, I'm technically an entirely different species that they've been studying their whole life and don't think I'm sentient anymore. But y'know it's whatever. They're not actually all that bad and I know they love me deep down. Spoiler: I'm not sure whether to borrow Hood's guns and shoot you myself or kidnap you away from here and force Batman to adopt you. Danny: Wha-
Danny: Alright a few more adjustments aaaaand there! Signal: Oh wow! Thanks! It's nuce to be able to see again without getting black spots on my vision. There's so many ghosts around it can be hard to see. Danny, biting his lip trying not to laugh: No problem. Signa;: .... What? Danny: Nothing! You look great dude! Signal: ....... Danny: ....... Signal: What did you put on my face!? Danny: Sun glasses! Signal: -skids to a halt in front of mirror and sure enough they're sun glasses. But they're triangular and the hooks go aaaall the way up to hook around the bat-ear points and look completely ridiculous- Danny Why :( Danny: -trying to say 'sorry' through his giggles, but he's not really sorry-
Danny: Uuuuh Red Hood I can't see your face, but I'm kinda worried about how many guns you're loading right now. Red Hood: I just want your 15th birthday party to be safe, okay? Danny: I'll be fine? It'd be nice if the other ghosts gave me a day off sure, but fighting them seems safer. I don't really want my mom to bake a cake anyway. Knowing her it'd just come alive so if they forget this year it's fine. I'm just, those are real guns man. They're dangerous. Red Hood: They are. -cocks gun- For Them.
Robin: >:( Danny: It was a nice try. Robin: Do not patronize me Fenton! Danny: I don't know why or how, but that sounds even more insulting than when Dash does it... Robin: This is an indignity! Fighting immortals entities that cannot be harmed by blade is one thing- but I will not accept being spoken to like a child! Skulker will return and taste my fury! Danny: Hey calm down alright? Robin: Do not test my patience! Danny: I heard you like animals. Wanna meet my purple back gorilla friend? She's really nice and is easy to talk to. Robin: .... The gorilla... doesn't speak does she? Danny: Haha no of course not! I learned her language instead. Robin: ... You are a strange man. However I will accept your proposal for now and I insist you teach me every form of communication with her.
Orphan: :( Danny, who's always been able to understand Cass perfectly, much to the mystery of the batfam and her delight: Aw Cass, I love you guys too. It's been great having your family around- and really I'm flattered! But I can't be your new brother, I'm sorry, but we do live in different realities. Besides, I think I've had enough of people trying to adopt me. Orphan: ? Danny: Yeah my godfather is a total fruitloop. Always trying to kill my dad and marry my mom who hates his guts and get me to call him father instead. Like, he even tried to clone me and copy my brain into a new body right? Or that time he rigged the election to become mayor just to mess with me. And hiring actually competent ghost hunters so I'd quit (kinda wish I could quit actually but it's fine). His obsession with me can get out of hand sometimes you see. Orphan: >:( -cracks knuckles- Danny: What? No! I don't need protecting really! I can handle him just fine. Now that I'm thinking about it though, I dunno what he'd do with Jazz. He never seems to actually talk about her beyond that one time he tried to get her to attack me- huh? Orphan: -disappeared- Danny: ...... That probably won't come back to haunt me.
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emoerotica · 11 days ago
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"What You Want"
・❥・Sevika x Reader Smut・❥・
Sevika takes you out to the newest party in Zaun. But instead of focusing on the scenery you're surrounded by, you set your focus on something better. Something bigger. Something you can't keep your need from.
・❥・ ・❥・
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"What You Want"
The pounding bass of the club's music reverberated in your chest, a wild symphony of sound mingling with the laughter and shouts of patrons. The air was heavy—thick with the scent of alcohol, sweat, and the faint tang of smoke. Bodies writhed on the dancefloor, their movements a chaotic blur of energy and color under the pulsing neon lights.
A firm hand curled around your arm, grounding you in the chaos. "This way," Sevika’s gravelly voice cut through the noise. Her grip was steady, guiding you through the throng with effortless authority. The crowd seemed to part for her, whether by sheer force of presence or the sharp, don't-mess-with-me glare etched on her face.
You found yourselves at a small, battered table tucked in the shadowy corner of the club. The worn leather couch creaked as you settled into it, its surface sticky and cracked from years of abuse. Across from you, Sevika sank into her chair with a casual confidence, her broad shoulders stretching the fabric of her jacket.
The table was alive with action. A group of men sat around it, cards in hand, gold scattered across the tabletop. Their conversation was loud and raucous, peppered with curses and boasts as they gambled away their winnings.
Sevika leaned forward, her sharp gaze sweeping over the table like a predator sizing up prey. “Deal me in,” she said coolly, her tone leaving no room for argument. One of the men looked up, startled, but before he could protest, Sevika tossed a handful of gold onto the pile, the coins clinking loudly against the table.
“You’re late to the game,” one of the men muttered, his tone a mix of irritation and nervousness.
Sevika smirked, not bothering to hide the arrogance in her expression. “I make up for it with skill.”
Before the dealer could even reach for the cards, Sevika’s hand shot out, snatching a half-empty glass of amber liquid from the man beside her. His jaw dropped in protest. “Hey! That’s—”
Sevika silenced him with a look—a glare so sharp it could’ve cut through steel. “Relax, you’ll live.” She swirled the glass lazily, the liquid catching the light before she took a long, deliberate swig. Wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, she set the glass down with a sharp *clink*.
The man muttered under his breath but didn’t push the issue. Sevika leaned back in her seat, adjusting herself with an air of nonchalance. Her legs spread slightly, her posture oozing confidence and control as she glanced over the cards she’d been dealt.
Your gaze wandered, drawn to her without meaning to. The curve of her shoulders, the defined lines of her arms, the way her movements seemed both calculated and effortless—it was impossible not to notice. Heat rose to your cheeks as you caught yourself staring. You quickly looked away, your heart thundering in your chest.
A low chuckle rumbled from Sevika’s chest, pulling your attention back to her. She was watching you now, her head tilted slightly, a smirk tugging at the corner of her lips. “See something you like?” she drawled, her tone teasing yet edged with confidence.
Your face burned as you scrambled for a response, but nothing coherent came out. She laughed softly, shaking her head, before turning her attention back to the game. Despite the haze of embarrassment, you couldn’t help but steal another glance at her, mesmerized by the raw power and charisma she carried so effortlessly.
The game dragged on, tension thickening at the table as cards exchanged hands and gold shifted piles. Sevika played with a lazy confidence, a smirk curling her lips every time she laid down a winning hand. It was a game of dominance as much as skill, and she owned the table with every flick of her wrist.
Finally, with one last play, Sevika tossed down her cards. “Rotten luck, boys,” she said, her voice dripping with mock sympathy. A low laugh rumbled from her throat as she leaned back, arms draped over the back of the couch in a pose that screamed triumph.
The men groaned in disappointment, curses flying as they collected their remaining coins. The ambient noise of the club—booming music, raucous laughter, and shouted conversations���swallowed their frustration. But none of it mattered to you. Your attention was locked on Sevika.  
The way she moved was hypnotic, her every shift of muscle an unspoken declaration of power. Your gaze traced the lines of her body: the bronze gleam of her skin under the neon lights, the sharp definition of her arms, the subtle curve of her collarbone visible where her shirt opened slightly. She tilted her head, smirking as she idly spun one of the discarded cards between her fingers, completely at ease.
Your heart raced as you realized your staring had become more obvious. You shifted awkwardly, nerves prickling at your skin as the men beside you jostled for space. The club felt too small, too hot, and the press of bodies around you only added to your unease. Adjusting yourself on the couch, you tried to focus on anything but Sevika—but your eyes betrayed you.
When you glanced back at her, you froze.  
Her gaze was locked on you now, dark and unreadable. Her smirk softened into something more intimate, more deliberate, as her eyes roamed over you. Slowly, deliberately, they traveled from your lips, up to your eyes, and back again. The club’s chaos seemed to dim, leaving just the two of you in a charged silence.  
Your breath hitched under the weight of her attention. It wasn’t just the way she looked at you—it was how she did it, like she was peeling back every layer of your composure with a single glance. You swallowed hard, the heat in your chest spreading to the pit of your stomach.
“Getting comfy over there?” Sevika’s voice broke the moment, low and teasing, though her eyes never left yours.  
“I—uh...” Words failed you. You could barely hear yourself over the pounding of your pulse, let alone form a coherent response.  
Sevika chuckled, her grin widening as she leaned forward, elbows resting on her knees. “Careful,” she murmured, her voice dropping just enough to send a shiver down your spine. “You keep looking at me like that, people might start getting ideas.”
The air between you felt electric, the tension building with every passing second. It was impossible to look away, impossible to breathe without feeling her gaze on you. And the way she looked at you now—hungry, confident, and completely unapologetic—left you wondering if she knew exactly what she was doing to you.  
Sevika stretched leisurely, rolling her shoulders as if shedding the weight of the night’s game. With a smirk of satisfaction, she scooped up her winnings, the clinking of coins filling the air as she stuffed them into a small pouch. Her movements were brisk, her focus now clearly elsewhere.
“Let’s go,” she said, her voice low and firm. It wasn’t a request.
You stood, trying to steady yourself as you squeezed past the men flanking you, their eyes flickering between Sevika and you with expressions that were hard to read—curiosity? Envy? You couldn’t quite place it, but it left an uneasy feeling curling in your stomach. You lingered a few steps away, watching as Sevika adjusted her coat and secured her pouch before sauntering toward you.
The heavy thud of her boots against the club’s floor echoed louder than the fading remnants of the music. She stopped in front of you, her broad frame momentarily blocking out the chaotic world behind her. Her robotic hand came to rest against the small of your back, its touch cold but steady. It wasn’t forceful, but it carried an unspoken command that made your pulse quicken.
Without another word, Sevika guided you toward the club’s exit. You moved through the thinning crowd, the haze of smoke and flashing lights fading behind you. The air outside was cooler, but the tension didn’t ease. The muffled thrum of the music from inside the club followed you for a few moments before disappearing into the quiet hum of Zaun’s streets.  
Sevika didn’t remove her hand as you walked, the firm weight of it grounding you in a way you couldn’t quite explain. Her pace was unhurried, but there was purpose in every step, her presence commanding even in the dim light of the streetlamps and flickering neon signs.
“What?” she asked suddenly, catching your sidelong glance. Her tone was casual, but there was an edge of amusement to it.
“Nothing,” you said quickly, your voice a little too high-pitched to sound convincing.
Her smirk returned, sharp and knowing. “Sure it is.”
The streets of Zaun were alive in their own way, even at night. Neon lights flickered overhead, casting sickly hues of pink, green, and blue across the cracked pavement. The air was heavy with the acrid tang of smog, oil, and rust, mingling with the faint hum of machinery and muffled shouts from lingering partygoers. A faint mist coiled around your feet, pooling in small puddles of grime and reflecting the neon glow in fractured rainbows.
Sevika walked beside you, her boots striking the uneven stone with steady authority. Her hand stayed firm on the small of your back, its heat grounding you in the chaos of Zaun’s restless streets. She didn’t say much, but she didn’t need to; her presence alone filled the space between you, a silent declaration of command and protection.  
Then she stopped.
You blinked, surprised by her sudden halt, and looked around. The two of you had come to a narrow, shadowed alleyway. The walls on either side were lined with rusted pipes dripping condensation into the darkness below, where heaps of discarded crates and trash were shrouded in dim light. The faint buzz of a flickering neon sign overhead was the only sound, aside from your own unsteady breathing.
“Here?” you asked, your voice breaking the silence. “Why did we stop—?”
Before you could finish, Sevika grabbed your wrist and pulled you into the alley with swift determination.  
“Hey! Sevika—what are you—” You stumbled, caught off guard by her abruptness, but she steadied you with a firm grip. Her other hand slid to your waist, her touch deliberate and unyielding.  
Her lips curled into a smirk, her face shadowed but unmistakably confident. “What does it look like I’m doing?” she asked, her voice gravelly, her tone brimming with heat and challenge.  
The shadows seemed to grow heavier as she maneuvered you further into the alley. You tried to focus on your surroundings—the rust-streaked bricks, the faint gleam of moisture on the ground—but Sevika’s presence dominated everything. She finally stopped, turning to face you fully. The sharp angles of her face were highlighted in the dim light, her scar cutting a path down her cheek, her expression an intoxicating mix of amusement and hunger.  
“You’ve been staring all night,” she said, her voice dropping to a low murmur that wrapped around you like smoke. Her eyes locked onto yours, dark and intense. “Figured I’d give you something worth staring at.”
Your mouth opened, but no words came. The heat of her gaze pinned you in place, and the alley seemed to shrink, leaving nothing but Sevika and the erratic pounding of your heart. “I wasn’t—” you started weakly, your voice faltering.  
“Don’t,” she interrupted, her tone soft but commanding. Her smirk widened as she stepped closer, and you instinctively backed up—until your shoulders hit the rough, damp wall of the alley.  
She loomed over you, her body mere inches from yours. “Sevika—” you began again, but she cut you off, her smirk fading into something far more intense.  
“Shh,” she whispered, leaning in. Her breath was warm against your ear, her voice dripping with quiet confidence. “I saw the way you looked at me. Felt it, too.”
Your pulse thundered in your ears, your chest tightening as she leaned back just enough to study your face. Her eyes roamed over you, taking in every detail. “You don’t have to hide it,” she murmured, her lips curving upward again. “I know what you want.”
Her robotic hand slid to your hip, the cool metal biting against your skin through your clothes, sending a jolt through you. You swallowed hard, your voice caught in your throat.
“So,” she drawled, her head tilting slightly as her gaze flicked to your lips, “why don’t you tell me?”  
But before you could even attempt to respond, Sevika’s hand shifted to cup your jaw, tilting your face upward. Her lips crashed against yours with an intensity that stole the breath from your lungs. The kiss was heated, her movements filled with need and purpose. She kissed you like she meant to claim you, her grip firm and unrelenting as she pressed you further against the wall.
The world around you dissolved into nothing—just the heat of her lips, the faint metallic taste of the oil that clung to the air, and the intoxicating scent of her. The rough texture of the wall behind you contrasted with the warmth of her body against yours, her presence overwhelming every sense you had.  
When she finally pulled back, her forehead rested against yours, her breath coming heavy but controlled. “That answer your question?” she asked, her voice low and rasping, her lips brushing yours as she spoke.  
You nodded quickly, the motion almost instinctive, and before you could think twice, you surged forward, crashing your lips back against hers. Your arms wound around her neck, pulling her closer with a desperate urgency that surprised even you. Sevika’s low, satisfied chuckle rumbled against your lips, but she didn’t hesitate to meet your intensity, her hands gripping your waist and pulling you flush against her.
The lack of space between your bodies was intoxicating. You could feel the heat radiating from her, the firm press of her toned body against yours, and the cold edge of her mechanical arm as it shifted to rest against the small of your back. The contrast of her warmth and the chill of metal only heightened the electric tension that had been building all night.
Her lips moved against yours with a fierce hunger, her dominance unmistakable in the way she kissed you like she was claiming every part of you. You tugged her closer, your fingers tangling in her dark hair as your heart thundered in your chest. The wall at your back grounded you, but Sevika’s overwhelming presence made you feel like the world was spinning.
When she pulled back, her breath was warm against your skin as she studied you, her eyes dark and filled with something primal. “Didn’t know you had that in you,” she teased, her voice husky, the corner of her lips curling into a smirk.  
You felt your cheeks flush, but there was no time to dwell on your embarrassment as she leaned back in, her lips trailing down the line of your jaw and toward your neck. The sensation sent shivers racing down your spine, and a soft gasp escaped your lips before you could stop it.  
Her breath ghosted over your skin, and she chuckled lowly, the sound vibrating through you. “You’re making this too easy,” she murmured, her voice dripping with amusement and heat.  
Your grip on her tightened as she pressed her lips to the sensitive skin of your neck, her teeth grazing just enough to make your breath hitch. “Sevika…” you whispered, her name slipping past your lips almost involuntarily.  
“Hm?” she hummed against your skin, clearly enjoying the effect she was having on you. Her robotic hand slid upward, resting just below your ribcage, the cold metal a stark contrast to the heat flooding your senses. “Tell me what you want,” she murmured, her tone both a command and an invitation.  
The sounds of Zaun felt miles away now—the flickering lights, the distant voices, the hum of machinery—all drowned out by the sound of your heart pounding in your ears and Sevika’s low, intoxicating voice. Every fiber of your being was focused on her, on the way her body pressed against yours, on the tension hanging between you both like a wire stretched to its limit.  
Your lips parted, your voice shaky but determined. “You.”  
Her smirk returned, sharper and more dangerous this time, and her hand tightened on your waist as she leaned back just enough to meet your eyes. “Good,” she said simply, her voice rough and thick with satisfaction, before pulling you back into another searing kiss.
Sevika’s lips left yours, trailing a heated path back to your jawline, her touch deliberate and electrifying. The scrape of her teeth against your skin sent shivers racing down your spine, and when she reached your neck, she didn’t hesitate. She pressed her lips to the sensitive curve where your neck met your shoulder, her kisses slow and intentional.  
Then came the bite.
A sharp gasp tore from your throat as her teeth sank gently into your skin, the pressure sending a jolt of sensation through your entire body. It wasn’t enough to hurt—just enough to mark. Your hands clutched at her broad shoulders, fingers digging into the firm muscle beneath her coat. The cold wall against your back and the heat of her body against yours blurred into nothingness; all you could focus on was the way her lips and teeth worked against your neck.  
She alternated between soft, open-mouthed kisses and playful nips, her breath warm against your flushed skin. Each bite left a small sting that quickly melted into a dull, throbbing heat, and you could already feel the marks blooming—tiny imprints of her claim. It was intoxicating, overwhelming, like every nerve in your body had come alive.  
"Sevika," you breathed, her name slipping from your lips in a voice you barely recognized.  
She pulled back just enough to smirk against your skin, her tongue flicking over the spot she’d just bitten. “What?” she teased, her voice low and rough, sending another shiver through you. “Can’t handle it?”  
You shook your head quickly, though your body betrayed you by arching into her, silently begging for more. “It’s—” You struggled for words, your mind hazy with sensation. “It feels—”  
“Good?” she finished for you, her tone smug. Her robotic hand moved up your back, its cool touch grounding you even as her lips began their assault again, this time on the other side of your neck. She bit down a little harder, drawing a sharp gasp from you that she clearly relished.  
“Gods, Sevika…” you whispered, your voice shaky, your fingers tightening in her hair. Each bite, each kiss, each scrape of her teeth sent waves of heat rolling through you. The sensation was both overwhelming and addictive—every small mark she left on your skin felt like a brand, a reminder of just how thoroughly she was claiming you in that moment.  
When she finally pulled back to look at you, her lips were slightly swollen, and her eyes were dark with satisfaction. Her gaze flicked to the marks on your neck, a small, self-satisfied smirk curling at the edges of her mouth. “You wear those well,” she murmured, her voice thick with pride and possession.  
You could barely catch your breath, your chest rising and falling as you stared at her, dazed. Your skin was still buzzing from the attention she’d given it, each mark tingling as if her lips had never left.  
“You’re not gonna forget this anytime soon,” she added, her smirk widening. Her thumb brushed against one of the fresh marks on your neck, sending another wave of heat through you. “And neither is anyone else.”
Your legs trembled beneath you, the sheer intensity of the moment threatening to pull you under. The heat Sevika had stirred spread like wildfire through your body, landing low in your core, where it pooled and throbbed with a maddening ache. You tried to steady yourself, gripping her shoulders tighter, but every brush of her lips, every flick of her tongue, every small bite on your neck only made the sensation worse—or better. You weren’t sure anymore.  
The marks she left felt like they burned, tiny brands on your skin that sent jolts of heat racing straight through you. Each kiss seemed to pull you deeper, unraveling your composure thread by thread. Your breath came in short gasps, your chest rising and falling against hers as you clung to her like she was the only thing keeping you upright.  
“Sevika…” you whispered, barely audible over the pounding of your heart. Your voice wavered, thick with need and a vulnerability that made her smirk widen.  
Her hand moved lower, her fingers splaying possessively over your waist as she pressed her body closer, trapping you against the cold, damp wall. “What’s the matter?” she asked, her voice thick with amusement and heat. The gravelly edge of it sent another wave of warmth coursing through you. “You’re shaking.”  
You swallowed hard, trying to find the words, but they stuck in your throat, overwhelmed by the haze of desire clouding your thoughts. She leaned in again, her lips brushing against your ear, her breath hot and teasing.  
“Can’t handle me?” she taunted, her voice dropping to a low purr that sent shivers straight down your spine.  
The way her lips moved, the deep, sultry tone of her voice, and the weight of her presence made your knees feel weak, like the ground beneath you might give way at any second. You clung to her harder, your body instinctively pressing closer as if proximity alone could quell the inferno she’d ignited within you.  
“I can handle you,” you managed to say, though your voice came out shaky and uneven.  
Her laugh was deep and husky, vibrating against your skin as she pressed her lips to your jaw, slowly working her way back down to the sensitive curve of your neck. “That right?” she murmured, her tone challenging and utterly confident.  
The pressure of her body against yours, the heat of her lips, and the tingling sting of the marks she’d left were too much. Your body betrayed you, your legs trembling again as the fire in your core grew almost unbearable. Sevika noticed, of course, her smirk turning almost predatory.  
“Guess I’ll have to see just how much you can take,” she said, her robotic hand sliding lower to grip your hip with a firmness that made your breath hitch. Her eyes locked onto yours, dark and full of promise, before her lips descended on yours again, consuming you in a kiss that left no room for thought—only feeling.
Her tongue brushed against yours, and a quiet moan escaped you before you could stop it. The sound seemed to fuel her, and she pressed you harder against the wall, her hips grinding against yours with deliberate intention. The friction was almost too much, the heat coiling low in your stomach and spreading through you like wildfire. You could feel her smile against your lips, her fingers digging into the flesh of your hip as her body pinned you against the wall.
There was no escaping her now, not that you wanted to. Every movement of her lips against yours, every bite of her teeth, every stroke of her tongue drew you deeper. Your heart raced, your blood rushing in your ears as she consumed you. It was almost too much to process—the way her body held you captive, the way her kisses left you breathless, and the way her mechanical arm anchored you against the wall as her other hand slid up the inside of your thigh.
Sevika paused just long enough to let her eyes flick over you. You looked debauched already, your lips parted, your eyes heavy-lidded, your clothes disheveled. The sight made her smirk deepen, a rush of pride filling her chest. But she wasn't done.
She leaned in again, her lips moving to the shell of your ear. Her voice was low and gravelly, dripping with heat and confidence. "You're gonna scream my name."
Her fingers slid beneath the waistband of your pants, brushing against the damp fabric of your underwear, and a sharp gasp tore from your throat. "Sevika..." you whispered, your voice shaky and thin, a tremor running through you.
"That's it," she murmured, her tongue darting out to tease the spot just below your ear, the sensation drawing a small whine from you. Her fingers toyed with the fabric, tugging and rubbing in a way that had you panting. "You gonna come for me?" she asked, her voice a husky whisper.
Your body was on fire, the ache in your core becoming almost unbearable. She didn't ease up, her fingers tracing patterns against the soaked fabric, the pressure just enough to keep the flames from being doused. You bucked against her, desperate for more, and she laughed softly, clearly enjoying every second.
"Patience," she said, her tone thick with satisfaction. Her lips brushed against the marks on your neck, the pressure making them tingle, the sensation sending shivers straight down your spine. "Or you'll regret it."
Your hands gripped her shoulders, fingers digging into her shirt, but she didn't stop. Her touch was deliberate, controlled, and the heat building within you threatened to boil over. "Sevika, please..." you begged, unable to control the words tumbling from your lips.
"Please what?" she murmured, her voice a low growl. She knew exactly what you wanted, but she was enjoying the desperation too much to relent.
"I need you." Your voice was hoarse, strained with need, and the way her gaze locked onto yours made you feel like prey caught in the hunter's trap.
"That so?" she drawled, her lips quirking upward. "You do look pretty good like this."
Her fingers pushed the damp fabric aside, finally brushing against the sensitive bud of nerves, and you gasped sharply, your hips bucking against her hand. She chuckled, the low sound rumbling against your neck as she trailed her lips along your jaw.
"So desperate," she teased, her breath ghosting over your skin. "Don't worry, I'll take care of you."
Before you could respond, her fingers found the wet heat of your folds, stroking and teasing until you were a whimpering mess. Your fingers curled into the fabric of her shirt, your head thrown back against the wall. She didn't ease up, her thumb circling the sensitive bundle of nerves while her fingers worked their magic.
The alleyway melted away, the chaos of Zaun dissolving into nothingness. There was only Sevika, her body pressed flush against yours, her lips and fingers driving you toward the edge. Your heart pounded, your breathing ragged, your body burning with need.
Then she slid a finger inside you, the sudden pressure drawing a choked moan from your throat. "Sevika!" you gasped, her name spilling from your lips like a plea.
"Fuck," she groaned, her voice thick with satisfaction. "You feel so good."
You arched into her, desperate for more, and her lips crashed against yours again, capturing your moans and swallowing your pleas. Her hand moved faster, her thumb circling the sensitive bundle of nerves, and your release came barreling down on you with dizzying intensity.
You broke the kiss, a string of curses falling from your lips as your orgasm tore through you. The tension coiling in your core snapped, the flames roaring into an inferno, and everything went white. Her fingers worked relentlessly, drawing out the sensation until you were spent.
She pulled back, her lips curved into a smirk, her gaze dark and hungry. Her fingers slid from between your legs, and she brought them to her lips, the taste of you evident in her expression. "Told you you'd scream my name," she said, her voice dripping with smug satisfaction.
The haze of pleasure faded, and you realized your entire body was trembling, the aftershocks rippling through you like waves. You took a few unsteady breaths, trying to regain some composure, but it was nearly impossible with her standing so close.
Sevika studied you, her eyes roaming over you in a way that made the heat pooling between your legs surge back. "Not bad," she mused, her lips curling into a knowing smirk. "But we're not done yet."
Her robotic hand came up to tilt your chin, her fingers pressing against the fresh marks on your neck, drawing a gasp from you.
"Now, how about I give you something else worth screaming about?"
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specshroom · 6 months ago
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hello hello, I stumbled across your writing and wanted to say how much I enjoyed “Blood In The Water” I was curious about how reader struck that deal with all the mer-creatures in the first place?! did they try to eat reader too? or did one/many have an attachment or attraction since reader grew up around that place? the whistling was soooo cool, like they were dogs trained to a command! does that mean they had struggles with communication at first? do the mer-peeps understand language or just body language? I’m full of questions 😂❤️ it was just so enthralling and love a good morally grey character! is reader struggling to make ends meet and that’s why they do this? or is it more of ‘it’s either me or them’ type scenario? OR reader is just like this is the easiest way to get money?! 👀 oml lemme stop here this is getting quite long— LOVE UR STUFF 😚
I'M SO GLAD IT INTERESTED YOU SO MUCH (˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶)
I like to keep things up to interpretation cus I think it's more fun BUT I can answer a few of those.
- They definitely struggled at first lol. The merfolk can't speak human language and don't understand it. Humans can't speak mer-language either because it's mostly high pitched clicks and chitters. Reader figures out that the closest they can get to making sounds the merfolk understand is by whistling because it's loud and high pitched enough that they can hear it easily even through the water.
- They do share a lot of body language and mannerisms with humans (like kissing👀) so that made things easier.
- The merfolk do recognise Reader as a local and that made them more trustworthy. (Later on they marked the bottom of Readers boat so they know it's them🥺)
I wrote a little drabble to answer the "How did this happen?" question.
꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷
You sigh as you row your way out of the canal and into the open waters.
Your new patron lounges in his seat on the opposite side of the gondola, staring up at the clear blue sky. You preferred doing business at night when it's quiet, few braved these waters at night. Alas dwindling funds force you to suffer the business of the day. There's just too much comotion in the daytime, too many tourists.
Its been like this since the first rich fool "discovered" that your relatively small and unimpressive lake town actually boasts some magnificent and horrific monsters in the depths of the decievingly calm waters surrounding it. Now flocks of fools come to "test their bravery" by crossing the dangerous waters.
Conservationists and locals convinced them that hunting down the monsters in the lake would lead to environmental catastrophe and the snobs decided that it would be a better investment as a tourist attraction.
"Don't you get bored of this?"
Your patron slices the silence in half. You blink out of your thoughts, releasing the iron grip you had on your oar.
"I could give you a different job."
The well dressed man's tone is almost convincingly sympathetic. You keep your gaze locked onto the familiar waters ahead of you...until you hear the distinct sound of coins being jostled against one another. That changes things.
You hesitantly turn to where the stranger sits comfortably, grinning with pride.
"I thought so, it's always the same with you locals."
The tourist opens his money bag and takes out one gold coin. At least enough for a small meal.
"What would you do for it?"
He plays with the coin in his fingers before tossing it out of the boat and into the water. The carelessness with which he tosses his gold makes your blood run hot. Through the thick permanent fog that hangs over the waters, you can just barely see the gold coin as it sinks into the abyss and your stomach growls pitifully.
He holds out the pouch over the side of the boat, dangling it over the water.
"Would you dive for it?"
The sick thing is that you actually consider it. You stare intensely at the stupid pouch that could keep you going for a good while.
The man suddenly drops the pouch and you jump forward to catch it but he yanks it back up by the drawstring before it can touch the surface of the water. He laughs at his cruel humour and your blood reaches it's boiling point.
You don't know why it was that patron in particular that made you snap or why that bad day in particular made you finally put the knife skills your father taught you to good use.
But before either of you know it his laughter turns to bloody choking. You scramble off of him, panic clear on your face. He reaches for the knife in his neck but it's useless. His body sags over the edge of the boat and his blood mixes with the water. You watch with wide eyes as he takes his last struggled breaths.
It's silent for a while before you take your eyes off of the man Infront of you to look down at your red stained hands. You look around as if anyone could've seen your crime through the fog anyway.
After a while of just staring blankly at the still body Infront of you, you try to compose yourself and lift him off the side of the gondola. You manage to tip him over and watch his body sink down.
You stare at the corpse fading deeper into the water. Just as you ready yourself to leave the scene something rocks the gondola slightly and you fall on your ass, gripping the side of the boat.
You feel a breath on the side of your cheek and jump when you look over and see two big pitch black eyes staring at you from over the side of the boat. Your skin turns to ice, unable to move.
You hear chittering from the other side and jump again as another one peers over the furnished wood of the boat. The first one takes your frozen hand in their cold clawed hand and inspects the drying blood covering it.
They stick their tongue out and slowly lick all the way up your shaking hand, licking away at the blood as if cleansing you of your sin. The other makes a clicking sound that sounds oddly like laughter.
Once all the blood on your hand has been licked off, the creature looks up at you for a moment before disappearing below the surface once more. The other one doesn't look like it wants to go but a few clicks from the water convince it to slowly lower back into the depths.
You lean over the side of the gondola trying to get a better look at the creature before it leaves. You deflate when you don't see so much as a ripple in the water.
Suddenly, just as you were sure they weren't coming back, the same one from moments ago bursts from the water. In a second it cups your cheek and kisses you. It's hard and deep, more passionate than you'd ever had before. The creature releases you and this time before it leaves it gives a little wave with its strange webbed hand. You wave back, a little dazed, as the monster dives back into the water.
You have to sit there for a good while staring at the pouch of coin the tourist left behind and then back to the murky waters, touching your lips while contemplating what the hell just happened.
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neonovember · 1 year ago
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Oh my GOD oh my for okay though that new fic you wrote with Carmy? 12/10 chefs kiss mwah mwah MWAH!! 💕💕💕 That part with Carmy going ballistic and beating the shit out of that asshole customer I LOVED it!! Now it’s got me thinking of Carmen going absolutely feral, just insane if he’s in the kitchen cooking and calling orders, while you’re out front taking orders from customers. He and the rest of the kitchen just go silent and stop in their tracks when they hear a guy just screaming at the top of his lungs at you, using the absolute most vile words against you and Carmen just sees red, especially if whoever it is ups and yells something along the lines of “You stupid fucking whore-“ and Carmen’s just a blur as he POUNCES on this guy. (Richie’s either cheering him on or trying with all his strength to claw Carmen off before he straight up kills the guy)
Office Doors
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Oooh you guys are spoiling me rotten with these requests…I love a good feral fic every once in a while and this one was..well you'll know what i'm talking about once you've read it ;) I haven't written Carmen in a day and I miss him already, school has been up my ass so if you have sent me a request, don't worry it's being written, and re-written and-. Thank you anon for getting my gears going and your lovely messages 🥰🥺 ur support means the world
warnings: swearing, objectification and misogyny, angst, oral (f recieving), smut, thigh riding (?), porn with plot, feral!carmen
carmen berzatto x reader!
(This is totally and completely canon btw)
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You stretch your body across the diner tables, dipping a dirty cloth into lukewarm soapy water before rinsing it out. The lunch rush had just slowed to a even pace, the sound of Carmen yelling out dishes from his line finally quieting down.
You have just a little time to spare, and you spent that time quickly wiping down the Beef’s tables that had begun to accumulate a few too many stains and unfinished crumbs of bread.
You had grown up in a home that was always messy, all the time. And no matter how much times you had asked, and no matter how much times you had just done the chores themselves, the clutter of dirty dishes and old wet clothes in the laundry had permanently been embedded into your family home.
It’s partially why you had loved the sterile laboratory of you culinary kitchens. Clutter caused your skin to itch with anxiety, it made you feel dirty, and with the way you scrub the diner tables a little too hard you wonder if it's another one of the many joy’s your family had given you.
And whilst the Beef was so different from your environment back in culinary school, it wasn’t necessarily worse. In fact, you had grown to fall in love with the quirks of the kitchen, the ‘fuck you carmen’ napkin holder, the too small walkway, the framed pictures of beloved regulars and the staff’s families. Most of all, however, was the family you had built here, the kind you couldn't find working under a domineering CDC.
The kind that had always been waiting for you, been planted deep into the earth like roots.
Besides, you and Carmen had bonded together during the late nights after most of the family had gone home. Were you both were left, scrubbing the floor together in a rhythmic silence that seemed to be more therapeutic than work.
You’ve nearly finished wiping down the last of the stools perched against the counter top of the front when a loud guffawing causes you to break your trance-like state.
Jovial yelling breaks into the rarely quiet restaurant as the door swings open, and a stream of rowdy men dressed in pullovers and fleece jackets, with scarves and basketball hats of distinct sport team colours wrapped around their necks.
One man is fully decked out, sporting the jersey and beanie of what seemed to be a hockey team. The boom of his voice indicates he was the loudest too, unaware of the grumble of patrons around the restaurant that had grown annoyed at the man's violent rambling.
You breath out a sigh, finishing off wiping down the bar stools and putting the bucket of dirty water under the front counter. Before ironing out any creases in your apron and preparing yourself for the absolute headache this would cause.
They were a familiar bunch, usually coming in after games late after the dinner rush. It seemed there was a game during the early morning, as they grumble about not having anything to eat the entire day.
Their loud and annoying and swear too much and Carmen hates the way one of them looks at you but they order a shit ton of food and fuck if the bear needs money, what can you say.
Your eyes glance at a cup of coffee Richie had accidently left under the register, and you suddenly crave your afternoon pick me up well after the afternoon. The men begin walking up to the register, ignoring your polite greeting and going straight into listing off items from the menu as if you were a machine. You nod along all the words they were saying, and soon enough you give up on writing it down as they’ve practically ordered the entire menu safe for a few appetiser's. 
“Make it quick, yeah? We’re bloody starving '' One of the men calls out from his seated position in one of the booths and you give them a tight lipped smile, resisting the urge to throw that coffee mug at him. 
Carmen peeks his head from the entryway leading to the kitchen, his unruly ashy blonde curls falling to the sides as he shares a look with you,  as if to say ‘you alright? And you nod in that unspoken way the two of you have and tell him that you can handle it. Working in a kitchen didn't have to teach you how to deal with assholes, you had your family to thank for that one again.
You hear the familiar sound of Carmen shouting out orders, and the sizzle of pans and boiling pots increase in order to push out the lengthy order before more foot traffic would pour in. 
You’re trying to fix the register when it happens, something gets caught in the old janky machine, causing the cash drawer to get stuck as you have to hit its sides at a certain angle to get it to open up again. Years and Carmen refuses to get it fixed, or buy a new one all together, resorting to having it taped up and banged every couple hours to get it working again.
You almost don’t see him, until he is leaning against the counter, into the space between the cash register and you, a greasy smile pulling at his features and he watches you. You bite back a grimace at the way his eyes trail down your apron, fixated on the dip of skin that peeks from the top of your shirt.
“Something you need Sir?” You ask politely, taking a tentative step back, your hand gripping the edge of the counter.
The man smiles strangely at your comment, cocking his head to the side before replying suggestively
“I definitely want something”
You cough, biting back your knee-jerk response to hurl at him, you can feel the burn of embarrassment against your cheeks and you swallow as you try to reply with a steady response.
“You’re food will be out in a short-while-” 
“You know, I think I’ve seen you around here, are you new to town?” The man tries to strike up a conversation
“Came here a few years ago and haven’t left since” You reply with a tight smile
“Ah! I know where you're from exactly now” The man replies with a grin that pulls his face upwards, it's eerie, his smile, like he knows something he shouldn't.
“There’s this porn star online, looks exactly like you, it’s kind of insane” The man replies with a smile that deepens as you stammer
You feel humiliated as you stare back at him, you don’t know what to say, and his eyes continue trailing down your body in a way that makes you feel disgustingly objectified. He’s reduced you to an object for him to gawk at, and you see the way the men behind him jeer and laugh that this is all a play to intimidate you.
You want to run straight home and scrub yourself clean, wash away the feeling of his imprinted gaze down the drain.
“You think we can recreate one of her videos when you get off work here?” The man replies, a glint in his eyes.
“What? You- you” You stammer and he breaks out into a laugh
“Awh, look at her, fucking shaking. Don’t tell me this is your first time?” The man eggs on to his friends, who have begun laughing and cheering him on.
You grit your teeth, trying to get the words out as you glance towards the kitchen, where was he? He leg twitches in want, wanting to get Carmen, wanting to run from the restaurants, wanting to run from the embarrassment and disgust you felt.
The flashes of Richie and Syd passing by is all you can see, the booming voice of Carmen being too wrapped up in the orders to notice what was happening.
“C'mon, just give me your number” The man presses on, leaning in so that only you can hear “It isn't like I don't know where you work” Before he leans back, muttering a halfhearted kidding under his breath
“You are disgusting” You spit out, trying to sound as confident as you can, and the mans eyebrow twitches, and he cocks his head like he was confused.
“What? I’m doing you a favour here, I'm actually a nice guy you know? Not one of those assholes on the street” The man scoffs, moving closer towards you and you have a feeling the man is waiting for a reason to lunge at you.
“Just, just take your food and your buddies and go alright? There doesn’t have to be a fight or-or” You continue, trying to de-escalate the situation and get him to just leave you the fuck alone.
“Are you fucking kidding me? I’m doing you a fucking favour and now your kicking me out?” The man begins to get heated, and his friends behind him watch on in silence, you can notice other customers begin to look your way, sensing the rising anger filling the room. You slowly step back, looking for something to shield yourself in case he comes at you.
“What, you think because you work you have some- some what, control? I don't think you know how this works doll, you give me your number, and I dump my load in you because your nothing but a stupid fucking whore” The man bellow, it’s so loud that it echoes through the Beef, that it reaches even the kitchen sinks where Manny is washing up. 
The man’s face grows red as the veins near his neck begin to pop out, he emphasises the last word, spitting it out like that was all you were.
The restaurant goes silent as the man heaves in exertion, the sound of Carmen shooting out orders is mute now, the slice of steel against bamboo stops, and the bear is fucking quite for the first time since it opened. 
Your body is pushed against the wall, near the swinging doors into the Kitchen, and you can see Carmen back to you, he has stopped cutting at his station, and the outline of muscle contracts under his white shirt.
Carmen turns, slowly, he turns to the family, as they all momentarily stop their tasks in shock at what they had just heard. He begins to chuckle a little to himself, as he replies in a quiet voice you and the man can still hear.
“What did he just say?” 
“Did he really say that? Did he really?” Carmen laughs to himself, nodding and gripping his hands into tight fists as the restaurant air gets thin. The man who had been screaming at you looks towards Carmen in confused fear, not knowing why this man was laughing and yet understanding he had completely fucked up.
The rest of the patrons can hear Carmen’s words, eyes widening, as they realise they were about to be collateral to a very one sided beat down. The crew looked at Carmen in silence, they had been used to Carmen's hot-headed temper, his bursts of anger that was more passion than rage. But this? This quiet silence of Carmen’s words, the way his chest heaves as you glances at your frightened position against the wall? They genuinely feared what he would do next, a silent rage like no other begins to envelop the restaurant, the air thin and suffocating as Carmen begins to walk through the kitchen and into the front counter.
“Don’t call an ambulance this time” Carmen mutters to Richie as he passes him by, Carmen’s eyes are fixed on you, trailing down your body before fixating on the shake of your hands. Carmen knows you well, and it’s the clench of your throat, like you're suffocating, like you can’t breath that snaps something in Carmen.
A malevolence Carmen has never felt spills into his gut, the burn of anger spreading against his chest until hes practically shaking with it, he is filled with this heart ache, like his heart is split in two and gushing as he realises his been cutting fucking chives whilst you nearly died. 
And something predatory fills Carmen, like he must prove to himself he can protect you, and in one swift move, like muscle memory etched into his bones, Carmen jumps over the front counter and swings his fist in one clean motion, knocking the man across the room.
The man’s body crumbles as he slams into the hardwood floor of the Beef, the immediate groan of twisted pain and pleads leave the man's mouth and Carmen is just so sick of his goddamn voice. 
It all went quiet then, the noise of Sydney yelling, of his friends, of the man’s heaving wet coughs, the air conditioner, all white noise. Carmen’s hand reaches for his ankle, dragging him back from his crawling escape.
“Oh, no no no, we’re not escaping now are we?” Carmen grunts, his voice lower than it usually is.
Carmen  wraps an arm around his throat, holding him there as he brings down his fist across his face. The wet sound of bones crunching into muscle and skin go on forever, bouncing across the room until the throaty heave of the man is all that is left of him. Carmen cannot stop the swing of his fists, something possesses him and as one of the men in hockey colours tries to grab Carmen arm he throws him back into the stack of barstool's piled near the tables. He is facing his back to you again, and you state, fixated on how his body moves to support him, the contracts and outline of his strong back, his large forearms that break bone with a mere swing.
His face swollen beyond recognition, piss and blood leaking from him, eyes bloodshot and awry. 
Carmen picks him up by his collar, the smudge of blood dripping down and staining his vest, whispering into his ear as the man’s eyes widen in harrowed fear.
“Apologise”
“..Whatnhn?” The man mumbles, the feel of his tongue swelling up and going numb, Carmen presses a hand against the man's bruised stomach, pushing  against the broken bone of his ribs until the Man wails in agony. 
“Apologise to her or I swear to god I’m breaking your fucking legs” 
The man spits out an apology, but you’re not looking at him, staring transfixed at Carmen,  at the way he’s golden curls fall across his eyebrows, at the way his muscles flex against his white shirt, at the way droplets of blood are splattered across the skin of his jaw. Carmen looks towards you, and something dark takes over his cerulean blues, blowing them out.
“Do you accept? Huh honey?”
You nod, letting an exhale out and Carmen tosses the man to a pile on the floor, reaching for your hand and dragging you to the office, you can hear the scatter of shoes as the men drag their friend out of the beef, and the crew looks towards each other in satisfaction, but also in knowing, in knowing they wouldn't dare open those office doors.
The soft glow of the office is a stark difference to the bright light of the front counter, and you have to blink a couple times for your eyes to adjust, and when you do Carmen’s face is inches from you, leaning you against the office doors, his arm above your head.
The soft glow of the office is a stark difference to the bright light of the front counter, and you have to blink a couple times for your eyes to adjust, and when you do Carmen’s face is inches from you, leaning you against the office doors, his arm above your head.
“You didn't- didn’t have to” You mumble, your voice caught in your throat for a different reason.
Carmen looks down at you, shaking his head in amusement
“Don’t lie to me, you enjoyed that more than I did” Carmen whispers, leaning down near your ear, pressing his nose against the curve of your neck.
You let out a breathless sigh, and Carmen groans as he smells that familiar  vanilla always hinted on your skin Carmen could smell when you passed by you. Now, now, he can practically taste it right on his tongue.
The truth was, you did enjoy it, despite being non confrontational and cringing every time Richie would show you a fight where the crunch of bone on gravel makes you shudder, you were transfixed by Carmen. 
By the way he broke the man to a heaving mess with just his fuckinf fists, those same arms that are edging closer and closer to you, how would they feel between your thighs? The thought wraps itself tight in your belly, and you have to squeeze your thighs for friction.
No one had done that to you, no one had done that for you, and in a strange way it felt nice to be protected. To be wanted, and it causes a need to start building deep within you. 
Carmen's eyes fall to you, and his eyebrow twitches as a look of guilt washes over his features.
“I should’ve been there, I- fuck, did he do anything? Let me get a look at you” Carmen replies softly, grabbing your wrists to look for any bruises he feared you had.
“I’m fine, just a little, uhm, shaken up you know? Said some pretty horrible things” You reply, scratching at your neck as your mind replays the way he had reduced you to a thing.
Carmen shakes his head, his teeth grinding as he grips his fists, his biceps flexing. 
“You shouldn’t have to deal with that, deal with people like fucking him, I swear to god if I find him on the street I’m gonna-“
“Gonna what? Finish off the job? There is always going to be guys like him, that isn’t going to change, and it’s something I have to deal with. But what I can’t deal with is if you get yourself thrown into a jail cell because of-of me” You reply, shaking your head and Carmen looks at you like he’s in love.
Gripping a hand to your chin, Carmen raises it so that you catch the burn of his cerulean blues as you can see.
“And That would be an honourable death for me” Carmen mutters, and you can’t take your eyes off him, until you're gripping his blood stain shirt tight against your chest until the suppression groans leaving his mouth are kissed into your neck.
You want him, want to taste him on your tongue, want to feel his weight against it. 
“Fuckin come here” Carmen groans out, reaching to wrap his hand around your jaw as he presses his lips against your own. The muffled of your moans escape your lips and Carmen slips his tongue between them. 
His pillowy soft lips wrap around your own, his nose bumping into your cheek as he wraps an arm around your back, pushing you against the office doors. It’s all teeth and tongue, the clash of teeth and muffled groans leaving the both of you. 
The suppression of both your desires falling between you two until you don’t stop to come up for air. 
It’s addicting the way he kisses you, and you have to grip his shoulder as an anchor as he begins to trail his lips down your neck, sucking and nibbling at the skin there before dipping down to your clavicle. 
You let out a moan as he blows cold air against the dip of your breasts, and Carmen looks down at you, his eyes heavy as he watches the way you shiver, waiting for him to give you what you want.
Carmen rips open your shirt, his eyes trailing across the curve and dip of your breasts, he mutters something under his breath, something like “beautiful” as his finger trailing the lace before unclipping it and tossing it behind him. 
Carmen cups one of your breasts, circling your nipple before wrapping his lips around it and sucking, you arch your back to him, and he follows it until he rests and your hip, squeezing the skin there as his eyes roll back at the taste of you.
“Please..” You groan out, your eyes watching the way Carmen pressing soft circles into your skin, he looks up at you in confusion, the hint of a smile curving at his lips.
“Please what?” Carmen replies, sucking bruises beneath your tits, drawing it out on purpose, having too much fun watching you suffer.
“Nmfha” You mumble incoherently when Carmen flicks his tongue around your nipple, whilst squeezing the other in his cold hands.
“I can’t hear you, what do you want?” Carmen replies with a hint of a moan, he’s having trouble himself, bucking his hips up into you as he watches the way you shake from his lips
“Wanna feel you Carm, wanna taste you” You groan out with a moan, Carmen grunts at your response, his eyes growing dark and heavy, and in one swift move, he hoist you up and swipes the coffee mugs and papers left scattered across his desk before placing you on the edge.
You spread your thighs, making room for him and he steps between them. 
“You wanna feel me sweet girl? You want me to take care of you? Please let me take care of you” Carmen pleads, rutting up against you as he tries to suppress the want pressing tight against his jeans.
“Carm” you groan out as Carmen tugs your jeans down leaving you in your lace underwear that Carmen grinds his jaw at, you don’t realise it but Carmen blue apron is discarded somewhere in the room, and as he carries you towards the coach you tug at his white shirt. 
He rips it off him in one move, and you drag your fingers across the deep of defined muscle that flexes under your touch.
Carmen moves your thighs so that you're pushed towards the edge of the couch, and he kneels between you, pressing a soft kiss to your knee, before trailing up your thighs. Carmen had been teasing you before but now there is a frantic eagerness in the way he touches you, like if he doesn’t taste you on his tongue he might combust.
Carmen hooks a finger into your underwear,pulling them down until you were bare for him. Carmen’s eyes glisten as he states at you, naked under him and sweating. God the image imprints in his mind and he wishes he can stay here forever.
Carmen presses a soft kiss to the inside of your thigh, and your thighs shake in need, Carmen flicks his eyes up to you, and keeps eye contact, as he licks one long strip across your folds, closing his eyes and he groans at the taste of you. You contort you back at the pleasure the waves through you, eyes rolling back at the pressure of his tongue sucking your clit.
“Fucking- taste so” Carmen mumbles, before dipping his tongue between your folds, dragging it up and down, the sound of your heightened moans ripping through him. 
Dipping his tongue in your hole, Carmen pushes a finger between your thighs, presses soft circles around your clit as his tongue works your folds. Your thighs shake around the curls of his head and he pushes a hand down at your stomach to stop you from moving, making you take every wave of pleasure he pulls from you.
“Carm, please, they’re going to hear us” You groan out, and Carmen shakes his head, causing his tongue to drive deeper into you, before looking up at you, 
“Let them” 
Carmen stretches you out with his tongue, pushing it into you and out until your heaving, his thumb is pressed against your clit, and he pushes a finger into you before sucking onto your bud. 
You begin to see flashes of stars, as he thrusts a finger into your hole whilst sucking you, he scissors you open, curving his finger in a way that hits a particular spot that has you raising your hips, trying to pull yourself off of him, the white hot burn of pleasure getting too much.
“There baby? Right there?” Carmen groans out, thrusting his finger to hit that spot over and over
Carmen grips your hips, pushing you down, deeper, harder onto his mouth and fingers, pressing a second digit into you as he curves it to pull that sweet moan from your lips.
Carmen had many names, but his favourite was the broken syllabus of his own between your lips when you fell apart on his tongue.
“S’ close, so close Carmy, please” You babble out, before resigning yourself to the burn of pleasure the feels like fucking nirvana, it’s all around you, Carmen, this pleasure, it’s all you can taste.
“I know baby, I know, I’m going to take care of you okay, sweet girl?” Carmen groans, thrusting his hips into the floor, searching for friction as he watches the way your eyes roll back.
Carmen laps at your core, pushing the digits deeper, curving them upwards until you were screaming, he pushes your face down to look at him, he wants to see your face as you fall apart, and the coil that has begun to wrap itself tight snaps when he nibbles at your over sensitive clit and you see the way his dark eyes watch you, his eyebrows furrowed and your slick coats his chin.
You can’t feel anything but the white hot pleasure that rocks through you, you aren’t in your body, floating away in the pure saccharine pleasure of Carmen’s tongue and he laps at the pleasure dripping between your folds. 
You mumble incoherent words, the only thing leaving your lips is Carmen’s name as you babble, spit dripping from your open mouth as you're left in a heap, Carmen leaving you dumb.
Carmen works you through your release, licking and sucking at your sweet slick that he gathers on his tongue. You see the way he thrusts into the carpet, trying to find friction as the scene in front of him becomes too much.
The thought splits something within you, seeing how Carmen got off to getting you off was out of this world, causing the pleasure to start building in your core again. 
You drag Carmen up to meet your lips, and then push his tongue between your lips, causing you to taste him on your tongue. Carmen pushes his finger between his lips, sucking on the shine of slick coated there, his eyes heavy as he watches the way you grind your hips against him. 
He pushes his digits into your mouth, groaning at the way you suck on them eagerly. You push him to lean his back against the coach, before manoeuvring your hips to straddle him.
You rock your hips against his jeans, feeling the way the indent pushes and bumps against your core, Carmen throws his head back, his curls falling over his forehead and he grabs your hips, pushing you deeper, down down down until he is thrusting up into you.
You grip his shoulders raising your hips before pulling his jeans and boxers down in one swift motion. Carmen forces himself to look down at you, his gaze watching the way you tug at his length, swiping a thumb across the red tip, dragging pre cum down the thick girth of him.
Carmen groans out, gripping your hips tight, and you raise up, lining yourself perfectly before sinking down on him.
Carmen’s groans are beautiful, rumbling from his chests as he squeezes his eyes shut, you fit so perfectly around him, the heat and warmth and slick of you wrapped tight around his cock. His length is thick and girth, and you have to adjust to his size, moaning at the way he fills you up just right.
As you begin to move, Carmen presses a hand, begging for you to wait
“Just, one second, fuck you feel so good I might cum from one thrust” 
“Who says this is a one time thing?” You reply with a wicked smile, and Carmen groans loud at that.
You raise your hips, dragging your self on him before sliding down, your grind against him and he heaves in the pleasure of your tightness around him. 
It had been so long, and the feeling of you is almost too much. 
You struggle to raise your hips high enough, and Carmen wraps his hands tight around your hips before raising you himself, driving himself up into you and thrusting hard.
This new angle allows him to go deeper, and you meet his upward thrusts, groaning out as he fucks you dumb. You look gorgeous above him, the way your tits bounce with every thrust up has him hard all over again.
“Just like that baby girl, keep going, doing so fucking well, my baby” Carmen groans out, and you begin to shake at the combination of his praise the the feeling of his cock driving into you impossibly deep.
You want to make him feel good and you say this to him, causing his eyes to roll back when you squeeze yourself around him, hard, until his thrusts have to drive into you even harder.
The coach freaks loudly from Carmen’s pace, and he slams you down, positioning his cock deep into you, causing you to press half circles into your shoulder, scratching at his biceps and gripping the nape of his hair that causes him to rumble out your moaned name.
You can feel him getting close, his thrust growing sloppy and deep, you tighten around him, and his eyes are in a trance, watching the way you fit around him so perfectly.
Carmen moves to fold himself upright against you, and your eyes roll back to your head as you feel yourself climb up a familiar peak.
Carmen presses a hard kiss against your lips as you groan out, and as he slips a hand into your conjoined bodies, circling your clit you have to shove your fist into your hand to stop from screaming.
The feel of Carmen’s length driving into you and the sound of his ragged moans, mixed with the over stimulation against your clit, you can’t help but fall apart around his cock.
You squeeze yourself tight around Carmen, and he cries out, his thrusts growing slow as he joins you over the cliff, his cock thrusting up into you with spasms. His cheeks are a blush red, his tongue poking out as he follows both of your orgasms.
You fall against his chest, exhausted, pressing your cheek so that it rested against the hard muscle of his pecs. You swallow back a breath, gripping your hand around Carmen’s, as he brings it up to place a soft kiss. 
Your thighs are still shaking from stimulation, and Carmen caresses a hand across them, rubbing soft circles and you lay across his chest.
You stay like this for a moment, basking in the bliss of pleasure and sex and the soft curves and dips of your bodies.
After a bit, Carmen has to slip his out cock from your thighs, eyes fixated on the way your ecstasy mixed with his one drips down your thighs.
“Fucking gorgeous” Carmen replies, and you look up at him in surprise
“What? You don’t think I'll find you gorgeous after this?” Carmen smiles down at your flustered state, he brushes back the sweat and tears dripping down your cheeks.
“That was..you are. Well fuck, Carmen, why didn’t this happen sooner?” You reply, he manoeuvres you so that your legs lay across his thighs.
“Yeah, uh, we’ll I’ve got a whole bucket of shit you don’t want dragging you down” Carmen replies scratching his neck, suddenly more shy as he lay his heart bare to you.
“Yeah, we’ll you gave me no choice when you practically murdered that man” You reply, biting back a smile, as you press soft circles around his thumb.
“Should’ve fucking murdered him…”
“What happens now?” Carmen replies, looking at you nervous that this was you just scratching an itch, because he was head over heels in love with you and he would never recover
“God Carmen, you didn’t realise I’m in love with you already?” You reply with a smile, “Practically the entire restaurant does” 
Carmen looks up at you in wonder, his eyebrows furrowing as your words hit him hard. You loved him? You loved him. He wants you to repeat it a hundred times, he wants to hear your tongue say those words to him again.
“You are incomparable” Carmen mutters under his breath, before wrapping you tight against his chest, pressing a kiss that feels different now, less crazed and rushed and fueled by heated passion. It was new, it felt like a start of something.
“You think they’re okay out there?” You reply with a start.
“Hell no” Carmen replies, and you can’t help but laugh as you push your head through a shirt Carmen had passed to you.
You and Carm may have just confessed your love to one another, but you still had a goddamn restaurant to run.
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subbmissivesuccubus · 11 months ago
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No Nut November ~
a/n. A request by my Patron for the month of November! It was quite the fun one. If you'd like me to write a story for you, please consider joining my Patreon! (link in bio)
Contains : Toji X Fem reader. No nut November antics. Toji being horny. Reader being a tease.
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"Fuck-" you cursed, panting heavily as you lied back on the bed, finally getting a break. Your partner, Toji, lied down next to you, half as tired but just as satisfied. He hummed as his muscled relaxed, hot and sweaty from the numerous rounds of sex, completely naked as he got comfortable enough to drift into sleep.
You couldn’t help but frown at him, a bit annoyed at his satisfied and content expression while your body was crying from the over-stimulation. He had taken you over and over and over again, his stamina seemingly never ending as he fucked you multiple times in multiple positions. Even when you complained that you couldn’t take it anymore, he claimed that he’d make you take it. And after he pumped you with several loads of cum, he finally called it a night.
"You- you're such a horndog." you said. The man chuckled, manhandling you to get closer to him, placing you on his chest before giving you a sweet kiss on your hair. “You love it.” He teased, giving your butt a greedy squeeze, making you flinch as he touched the bright red mark he had left on your cheek before. 
This was your routine. Toji and you would go to work, you'd come back home, have dinner together before he took you to the bedroom and gave you the most toe curling, back arching, pussy squirting pleasure you'd ever experienced. The man had a huge dick and a ton of stamina, not going soft unless he's cum multiple times.
And it's amazing it truly is.
But after a while...it becomes a lot. There's only so many times your pussy can take a pounding before she gets sore and it starts to hurt even when you sit down. There's only so many times your nipples can get suckled on before any friction, even from your bra, makes them ache. There's only so many times you can wear a turtleneck before people connect the dots. You tried to say so to Toji, letting him know of your trouble but he either laughed it off, took is as a compliment and continued to fuck you silly regardless.
His desire for you and his constant want to have his hands on you was a big ego boost, but you needed a break and you figured out the perfect way to do it.
“Have you heard of something called No Nut November?” Toji snorted, looking down at you amused, “Sounds stupid. I’m guessing it means you don’t cum in all of November?” “Exactly. It’s an internet challenge. Think you can do it?” He chuckled again, not taking it seriously, “I have a beautiful girlfriend who I can fuck on a daily basis- why would I give that up for a dumb internet challenge?” “Hmm, thought so.” You said, acting unimpressed as you poked his nose, “There's no way you can keep your hands off of me for a month. You don't have the self-control. Why am I not surprised?"
Now, Toji knew what you were doing. You were baiting him, plain and simple. And was he going to fall for it? Of course not... but he didn’t like your tone.
"Wanna bet on that?" he asked.
You tried not to grin, the man falling for your trap hook, line and sinker. There was no way a man as proud as him would not rise to the challenge just to prove you wrong.
“Fine. From tomorrow until the end of December, you can’t cum.” You said, “That means no sex and no jerking off. If you fail, I get to decide when we have sex for at least a month.”
“And if I win, you are going to be my little sex doll I can fuck whenever I want with no complaints.” Toji challenged. You scoffed, more than confident that he wouldn’t be able to do it.
“Deal!”
~~~~~
One week had gone by and it was already hell. Toji had to will himself to not drag you into the bedroom every night, the condescending smirk on your face actually giving him motivation to keep going. Ever since he started dating you, sex was a common and daily occurrence so to have it taken away was difficult for him to navigate but he could do this. He was an adult with self-control and he wasn’t a horny teenager who needed to get their rocks off all the time.
But during week two, he wondered if he truly had the self-control he thought he did.
You were not making it easy for him, oh no. You were a naughty little minx and once Toji went by one week with no sex, you realised you needed to make him break. Whether it was make-out sessions with a bit more tongue than you normally use, or ‘forgetting’ to lock the door while you showered so he’d walk in on you naked, or going to bed in nothing but his oversized t-shirt, or asking him to give you a massage and letting out sweet, filthy little moans as he worked out the knots. These small things were piling up, riling the man up even more to the point where in a sweet kiss from you would make his dick hard. You were good. But he wasn’t giving up.
But neither were you. And you decided to ramp it up for week 3.
“…And what are you doing?” Toji asked, looking you up and down and undressing you with his eyes. You were standing by the bedroom door, looking absolutely stunning in a lingerie piece he hadn’t seen before. It was a beautiful lace red piece, the underwear framing your body deliciously. Your tits, your stomach, your ass and the heaven between your legs- all the blood instantly went to his cock just by looking at you.
“Tojiiii~” you cooed, walking over towards him, your hips swaying seductively as you reached him. He was sitting against the headboard of the bed, idly scrolling through his phone but the random video he was watching was all but forgotten as you crawled between his legs. Your tits were practically swinging in front of his face as you straddled him, the man unable to deny you as he placed a hand on your waist, running his fingers over the soft lace.
“I’m so horny, Toji~” you cooed, rubbing your hand up and down his covered chest, “I need you.”
“Nice try.” The man responded, snorting as he flicked your forehead with his other hand, making you gasp, “I know your game here, little minx. You’re not getting me to fuck you.”
“How mean.” You said, pouting adorably and showing off the lip gloss you had put on, “If you’re not interested, then this can probably go on past November-“ “Not a chance.” Toji growled, gripping your waist so tightly it made you gasp, “You know I’m owning that pussy once this month is up. So be a good girl and wait.” “Wait?” you repeated, raising an eyebrow, “Why do I have to wait? I’m not doing the stupid challenge.” You smiled at the way Toji’s eyes followed you as you got off of him, bending over in front of him as you reached for a familiar drawer in the bedside table.
“Just because you’re not going to fuck me doesn’t mean I can’t have fun~” you said, holding up your favorite wand vibrator as well as a thick, vibrating dildo. “It’s not as big as you, but it’s good enough~”
  What proceeded was the worst yet best night of Toji’s life. He watched as you pleasured yourself, your sweet moans echoing through the room as you fucked yourself with your toys. With the vibrator rubbing your clit and the dildo sliding in and out of your pussy, you practically gave him a private show. Your lingerie was still on your body but pulled aside to expose your breasts and your cunt, making you look so delicious he just couldn’t keep his hands to himself. He didn’t dare to touch himself as he helped you along with your session, growling dirty things into your ear as he took over and fucked your cunt with the dildo, working it way better than you could yourself, groaning in delight as he suckled on your nipples as he drove you over the edge.
His dick was so hard it felt like it would explode. But he wouldn’t budge. He wanted to- God he wanted to- but he was going to stay strong. The reward he’d get for sticking with this at the end of the month would feel way better than the momentary pleasure he’d get from rubbing one out. So he stayed strong. Days went by, feeling longer and longer and your antics growing more and more bold. Your masturbation sessions were happening often, you were walking around the house in skimpy clothing, he’d wake up and find that you had ‘accidentally somehow fallen asleep with your face close to his cock’ but try as you might, you couldn’t break him.
He increased the ice-cold showers. He took longer working hours to distract himself. He fingered you so he could remind you of how good he was going to take you once the month was up. Hell, he even took up meditation to try and ease the tension in his body. And finally. Finally. After all that hard work- he made it.
He did it. He actually did it.
He was on the last day of November.
A full month of no sex. No pleasure. No jacking off. His cock hurt and his balls ached so badly, dying for some release and he couldn't wait to get it. Tonight, when the clock strikes midnight, he was going to take you and pound the shit out of you- fucking you so hard you won't be able to walk for days. He made sure you knew it too. Throughout the day, he was whispering filth to you, growling in your ear and palming his cock in front of you, loving the blush on your face as he detailed all the bad and naughty things he was going to do to you tonight. There was no doubt you felt defeated and after this, he was going to break and punish you.
Just an hour. He could do this. He was going to do this!
He was lounging on the couch of the living room, not focusing on what was on the TV as his mind was occupied with lust when he saw you walk out of their bedroom and upto him.
"How do I look?" you asked, twirling around so he could see your outfit. It was a cute short dress with a pair of leggings and he hummed in approval.  
"You going out?" he asked.
"Yup!" you said, suddenly dragging a suitcase from behind you, "I’m going to my parents’ house."
Toji raised his eyebrows, his eyes widening. What?
What?
"Excuse me?" he asked, watching as you dragged your suitcase over to the door.
"Sorry, I forgot to mention it before." you said casually, clearly ignoring the expression on his face, "Last minute plan- you know how it is."
"Bullshit." the man snarled, walking upto you before slamming his hands on the wall behind you, caging you, "You're just trying to fuck with me, aren't you?"
"Whatever do you mean?" you asked, a curious tilt in your tone which told Toji all he needed to know, "I just miss home and I know you have a busy workday tomorrow so I didn’t think you’d want to come. That’s not a problem, is it? I’ll only be there for a week.”
“A week-“ Toji growled, nails digging into his fist as he still cornered you against the wall, “You’re not fucking serious.”
You shrugged, faking innocence, “I mean, is there any reason I shouldn’t go? I have a few days off from work and my mom has been begging me to come by someday. The train leaves in…” you checked your watch, ignoring Toji’s scoffs at your audacity, “thirty minutes. So I better get going-“
“You’re not going anywhere you little brat!” Toji snarled, his patience snapping. There was no way in hell he was going to let you leave and have you been gone for a week. He was confident you were just bluffing but he was not taking that change. With a growl, he bent down and threw you over his shoulder, making you yelp as you were suddenly held upside down. He gave you butt a sharp spank, a slap so hard it made you forget how to breathe for a second before he stormed towards the bedroom.
“Wh- what about the bet?” you asked once he threw you onto the bed, Toji immediately getting undressed as he practically ripped his shirt off.
“Fuck the bet.” He said, grabbing you by the ankles before he pulled you towards him, a feral look in his eyes as he fisted the fabric of your tights, “Fuck No Nut November. And fuck you.”
You gasped as he started tearing apart your tights, the fabric ripping away like paper as all he could think about was fucking you. You could see the imprint of his cock straining against his sweatpants, you man already hot and bothered and eager. Your heart was beating fast in your chest, the excitement over-riding the fact that you were going to win the bet. Once the tights were torn enough and before you could even get a second to complain, he flipped you onto your stomach.
He slid your panties to the side, so desperate for you that he couldn’t be bothered to properly undress you before he grabbed two greedy handfuls of your ass. You mewled under him as he squeezed, the man spreading your cheeks apart before he dove in, face first. You yelped as Toji took a long, rough lick of your pussy, the familiar sensation something you truly missed since the start of the bet. You gasped and moaned as he started feasting on your cunt, his thick tongue sliding into you and working you open, your pussy slowly getting wet for him.
Toji growled against you, the vibration making you feel even better as he got you hot and bothered. His cock was so hard it was genuinely hurting him, the sensation of your pussy against his tongue and the taste of your sweet nectar making him go into overdrive. But even your pussy wasn’t going to make him forget how you pissed him off.
“Mmph- this isn’t for you- got it?” he snarled, smacking your ass once to get your attention, “I’m getting this cunt wet enough to fuck my fat cock deep inside you. I don’t care if you feel good and I don’t give a shit if you cum or not- you’ve gotten enough of that this month.”
“Don’t be- ah- mean.” You protested, gasping as he suddenly pulled away from you and flipped you onto your back again. “Oh, I haven’t even gotten started.” Toji said as he grabbed the hem of your dress and pulled it up harshly, also not caring to take it off completely. All he wanted was access to your tits and once he pulled your bra upto your chin, he got what he wanted. “You’ll see just how mean I can be.”
He took a nipple into his mouth before you could say anything, not wanting to hear anything out of your lips unless it was moans, cries or apologies. He slid his fingers into your panties, his thick digits sliding between your damp pussy lips, the slick sound of the contact echoing through the air. Despite the attitude, he knew you missed him too. Dildos just didn’t compare to him.
He slid a finger inside you, the glide easy due to your wetness as he slowly but thoroughly started stretching you out for his cock. Your fingers were in his hair, tugging at it harshly as he suckled on your nipple, his tongue twirling the sensitive bud around before he bit down, making you yelp from the pain. You rocked your hips against his fingers, arching your back as he slid a second one inside you before scissoring you open just how you like it.
“Fuck- good enough.” Toji said, separating from your nipple (which he indeed sucked raw) and gently taking his fingers out of you. He knelt between your legs after he gave you a quick peck on the lips, pushing his pants down to reveal his cock. Your eyes widened at the sight, your pussy throbbing as you gazed at the member you practically hadn’t seen all month. It was rock hard and twitching, precum leaking out of the tip that was so red, you wondered if it would burn your tongue if you sucked on it. His balls were always big and heavy and you didn’t know if the time apart muddled your memory a bit but you swore, they were somehow bigger.
  “Spread those fucking legs- show me that pussy.” Toji said, gripping his cock before he started tapping it against your cunt, purposefully targeting your clit and making you tremble from each hit, “Look at that. So needy and dripping even though you fucked yourself on that dildo every other night.”
He spat on your pussy, making you gasp at the vile action but it made your cunt gush even more. He truly was using you like he owned you. His cockhead rubbed at the glob of saliva that was trailing down your cunt before he finally, finally pressed it against your entrance.
“I won’t last long, but I don’t care.” Toji said, rocking his hips lightly as he teased your hole, “You’re here to be my cum dump. You’re here for my pleasure, got it?”
You couldn’t help but he bratty even though every fibre of your being wanted to beg the man to just fuck you already: “Enjoy it since I’m winning this bet~” “Oh, are you sure about that?”
You frowned at his words before your eyes widened and you looked over at the clock to see that…it was midnight. November was officially over. And you had lost.
“That- ah!” you screamed loudly as Toji plunged his cock into you, his girth splitting apart your wet, velvet walls as he pushed into your cunt. He laughed as he got inside you, eyes rolling to the back of his head as he felt your pussy wrap around him, that sweet, amazing feeling of your walls squeezing him greedily. He grabbed your legs by the back of your knees before pushing them upto your chest, catching you in a mating press, driving his cock deep, deep inside you.
“Fuck! Fuck- fuck!” you squealed, the whiplash from realizing you lost to the sensation of your cunt being stuffed full for the first time in a month making your head spin, “I thought- you- fuck!” “Nice try baby.” Toji snarled, body trembling as he got to feel your cunt again, his balls already threatening to spill his seed inside you, “But you’re going to have to try harder- fuck yes- if you wanna beat me~”
He lifted his hips up and thrust into you again, both of you moaning as he stuffed his cock deep inside your delicious cunt. He started picking up the pace, the nasty sound of his balls clapping against your ass was music to his ears as he started using you. This was for him.
“You’re my toy now, understand?” he asked, tightening his hold on your legs and keeping you nice and folded for him, “my sweet little fuck toy that I’m going to use to break every. Single. Fucking. Night!” he thrust harshly at each word, your eyes rolling to the back of your head as you felt his cock deliciously slide inside you, truly owning you. You hated to admit it, but you were secretly happy he won. As he pounded into you, you couldn’t help but remember how torturous this month was for you as well.
Sore pussy be damned, you were too addicted to Toji to give him up.
And while you swore you had more time before midnight struck, you were too cock drunk to think about it. Which was good for Toji as he thought ahead and might have changed the timing on the clock to make it a touch faster. But what you didn’t know wasn’t going to hurt you and by the time he was done with you, you’d forget how to count anyway.
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thithesandofferings · 4 months ago
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How Touchstarved are they?
~A/N: Random Headcanon. Dont look at me. Came from this excerpt.
~Tags: MDNI 18+. G!Reader. Little sprinkle of Yandere (I mean its Leander come on). Fingering. Overstimming. Orgasm Denial. Everyone is a little pouty and its kinda cute.
Ais
Ais is fine touching you…but only when its on his terms. If you go out of your way to give him affection, he will freeze. And become suspicious. He's going to do all he can to not show you how affected he actually is. But despite his slight avoidance, he likes the game you play and wants to always up the stakes (Even if you have no idea that you're playing the game. You just gave him a hello in greeting). You brush his arm when asking a question, then he's backing you against the wall and kissing you until you forget your question. It was invasive anyways- he probably wasn't gonna answer it. A forehead kiss? Well you're getting fingered in the alleyway behind the bar. He'll cover your mouth cause he wants you to hear the slick sounds of your hole as he gives your g-spot the kiss it deserves. Anyways, don't do anything if you dont want the consequences.
Leander
Leander touch borders on starvation. He pulls and prods and grasps at whatever he can. He thinks he's going to lose you, and its not a sorrowful pitiful feeling. Its targeted, jealousy bleeding from his mouth to yours- and he wants everything you have. Leander borders on overstimming you at every cost. Making you sob from fucking his fingers inside you over and over. He complains that he's touch starved, but you know deep down its more than that. Hunger bleeds into his magic when he's near you. Gets him in the mood to eat you out. No he wont be done with just one or two…or three… There isnt a spell in the world that can stop him from putting his mouth on you. He's greedy and you're his. Fingerprints embedding into your hips and its a staple piece, he gets absolutely pouty when they start to fade. Doesn't ask when he bites into your shoulder hard he murmurs seemingly innocent apologies. He cant help it, he has to.
Mhin
Abhors it. Or so they say. Literally runs from touch as much as possible. At least in the beginning. Shivers wrack their body differently when you brush past them. Hides away for days when you kiss them all over their face. Rubbing your hands down their back will unfortunately get you put on your back. Legs held down and spread as they grumble about how you're too comfortable with touching them. They dont say to stop. Nor are they ever going to say they're grateful. Please do not sit in their laps, pressing up against them as you put your fingers in their hair. Mhin is going to make you stay. It's okay, be good and just take what they give you. Doesnt matter if you're the one crying by the end of it.
Vere Wait because touching means nothing to him really. He's desired by many. But one day he notices how much you mean to him. If you get him to the point of feeling safe. Well he's all over you. Hand on every part of you all the time. You're practically stuck at the hip. Mentioning it will give you a funny quip, but a murderous stare. Not above fucking you in public when someone approaches you in a way he doesn't like. Makes you sit on his cock- hand around your throat, making sure that the plebeian that even graced your presence watches as you take every inch. Gasping out his name is not enough. He wants you louder than the bar patrons bellows of laughter. Grins when he can see people trying hard not to look, the group coughing and adjusting. Just makes his hips bridge into you faster.
Kuras
Kuras has no need for touch. He seems a bit above it. But he can see that you need it. And oh…well thats interesting isn't it? How long can you go without his touch he wonders. Nonchalantly avoids you in disguise of being "busy". His eyes darkening when he can see the need for him in your eyes. Likes that you're starting to shake and even snap at him. Can't really blame him for giving up when you start to paw at his robes begging for anything he can give you. All he has to do is close his hands over yours and he can see the visceral relief in your eyes…and that does something to Kuras. Likes that you clench so tight around him, wet gasps and hiccupping tear reign supreme even over his coos of acknowledgement. Thinking maybe its unsightly for him to feel this sort of pleasure, especially when he pauses just as youre about to come. Rubbing the tears of your flushed face, hushing you. Telling you he's going to give exactly what you want. Just ask for it. Beg for it even. He wonders how far he can go next time. Wonders what you'll do if he pulled out and left you right there. Hmm. Maybe next time.
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leog4u · 6 months ago
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Hey so I've given a lot of dough to artists via patreon and commissions over the years, something I'm thankful I can do thanks to that mythical disposable income. I've never pirated from indies and don't plan to.
That being said. I've subbed to patreons that don't have an archive, or stagger content by putting them behind a mega link with a password that changes, or posting it in a secret discord where the invite link doesn't work.
I unsub every time after I've paid because I don't like being treated like a criminal. Remember when itunes and steam would do that shit and people would clown on them? Did you forget?
Listen, people who didn’t pay aren’t going to pay. Making it easy for people to see and know you only increases your audience size. There’s artists I was convinced only drew once a year because they’re that withholding of their patreon works. And I only found out cause I had nothing better to do than dig, a normal person will just go "lol dead account" and move on.
If you think acting like this is going to make you more money, no it won’t. You’re just driving people away. Work on your marketing and networking skills instead of taking the time to create a custom password for every patron's access (A THING THAT'S HAPPENED AND CHRIST I UNSUBBED AS FAST AS I COULD LMAO). Those sound like gross corporate words but it literally just means your skill at making connections with other artists and widening your community and audience. Post consistently, have an archive! You can't suddenly be against the concept of piracy as soon as it applies to you.
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luvyeni · 28 days ago
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( reaction ) you try and kill them ! ୨୧ 一 엔하이픈 ՞
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⸃ ⸰ ⌁ you snap and try and kill them ヾ
yandere!enhypen・ reader ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ g ・ horror angst ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ cw ・ ‎ wc ・ ‎k ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎| ‎ ‎click to library
「 ୨୧ authors note 」 more yandere for everyone <3
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﹙ 𐙚 : heeseung﹚ .ᐟ
smirking when you held the gun in your shaking hand. “be careful you might shoot yourself.” he sat calmly in his chair. “don't patronize me.” you shouted , waving the gun. “whoa , im sorry.” he put his hand up with a smile. “why don't you put the gun down.” he said. “no, im leaving this place.” you said he nodded. “are you?” he was so unbothered — it pissed you off. “i don't think you are.” you were sick of all his tricks and mind games. you were finally over it , you pulled the trigger. click! that was it , the gun didn't go off. “did you seriously think i kept a fully loaded gun out in the open?” he was laughing at you. “are you dumb?” you felt like you were going crazy , you couldn't escape him , so you dropped to the ground. “please just kill me , please.” you begged unable to do it anymore ; you'd rather die than go through this any longer. “oh no im not gonna kill you.” he said, bending down to your level , the craziest smile on his face.
“where's the fun in that baby?”
﹙ 𐙚 : jay﹚ .ᐟ
the only way you would be able to kill jay is through his food and even that was hard — because you didn't even cook your own food , so you had to sneak into the kitchen on the pretense of helping since you did sometimes do that because that's all you could do since he kept you locked in the house almost every day. while you were left alone by the cooks, you poured the cleaning solution into the stew — it was served to him by the staff , but he quickly found something wrong. “what's wrong?” you asked, trying not to sound nervous. “you.” he pointed to the maid , calling them over. “eat this.” you didn't want to kill anyone else. “h-huh?” jay looked at you with a blank stare. “eat it i said.” you broke down, he pushed the bowl to the floor , the glass shattering along with the stew. “clean it up and leave.” he stood up from the seat making his way to you. “jay please , im sorry.” he was pissed. “don't plead now.” he grabbed you by your hair. “ow please you're hurting me.” he dragged you to your room — the one where it locked outside. “good.” he threw you down onto the floor.
“try and poison my food , let's see how long you last without food.”
﹙ 𐙚 : jake﹚ .ᐟ
you leaving alone was like stabbing him in the chest , but if you left and he did kill himself you knew you'd never forgive yourself. so you knew you had to do it , you had to kill him. “yn?” jake stood in the corner of the kitchen. he was pinned there by you pressing the knife against his chest. “what are you doing?” his eyes teary , you wouldn't fall for it. “jake i can't live like this , and you won't let me go.” before you plunge the knife into his chest , he held the knife in his hand. “do it.” he said tears down his face. “kill me , please do it , i don't want to live without you.” he said , his hand were bleeding. “if you hate me this much that means i’ve failed to love you and i deserve it.” you stood there in shock , you didn't know what to do. “j-jake.”
“i deserve so please just kill me , please.”
﹙ 𐙚 : sunghoon﹚ .ᐟ
you knew you were taking a chance trying to kill sunghoon; and you knew this was gonna be your only chance to kill him; because you'd either one die trying to or two be too scared to try again. you decided to try… that's where you fucked up at. taking the bat he often used ( on you and his other victims ) — swinging the bat , hitting him on the side of his head. you didn't even wait for him to hit the ground before you b-lined it to the door… that was your second fuck up, because had you waited even a second you would've realized he never got the ground. he stumbled but collected himself— picking up the same bat; your third and final fuck up, chasing after you. you were almost to the door, freedom on at your fingertip but it all came crashing down when you felt the bat hitting the back of your head and then it all went dark. when you woke up , he was standing over top of you , the side of his head still bleeding. “su-sunghoon , please.” his eyes were darker than ever. “please don't kill me , im sorry.” he scoffed. “im not gonna kill you.” he said but the way you said it — you wished he would.
“but im gonna make you fucking wish i did.���
﹙ 𐙚 : sunoo﹚ .ᐟ
you didn't want to hurt him; you didn't. but if you didn't do something he'd never let you go; or end up killing himself and you couldn't be left with a burden knowing he did that because of you. you didn't want him to be in pain as he died you couldn't believe you still had compassion for him , but you did. you decided killing him in his sleep was the way to go. waiting for him to fall asleep , moving as slow as you possibly could , undoing his arm and straddling his waist, the pillow in your hand as you covered his face , holding the pillow down. he began to thrash around , you held tightly as you heard the muffle of his cries; the saltiness from your tears on your tongue — you were crying. he took this as a chance, quickly flipping you over , he held you down tears streaming down his face. “why why why!” he shouted. “im sorry, im so sorry.” both of you sobbing, it was sick you felt so bad for what you did. “why did you do that yn?!” he shouted.
“i love you , i love you and you try and kill me , do you hate me that much ?!”
﹙ 𐙚 : jungwon﹚ .ᐟ
you needed to make sure he was dead, poisoning him? no he was way too smart for that. try to stab him? he long got rid of the knives. you had no option , the gun — the same gun he used to fuck with you. he'd keep one of those revolver guns and sometimes he'd put a bullet in it and told you to put it to his head , if it went off you were free , if not he'd put the gun to your head but he wouldn't pull the trigger because of course he would never hurt you , but the pure terror on your face amused him — much like now, when you grabbed the gun holding it to the back of his head. “if you wanted to play you could've just asked,” he said calmly. “sh-shut up.” you stuttered , he laugh. “you got one shot.” he said , just as you pulled the trigger… it didn't go off. “no!” you shouted , he grabbed the gun out of your hand. “no please!” you begged, he smiled at you crouching in the corner. “it's my turn.” he knew the gun wasn't loaded at all , he always took the bullet out. the gun was pointed at your head , with a laugh.
“let's play fair this time , it's only right if i get a turn.”
﹙ 𐙚 : ni-ki﹚ .ᐟ
much like sunghoon; you'd only have one shot cause ni-ki would damn sure make sure you'd never do it again. you underestimated him though, thinking you could easily suffocate him in his sleep , thinking he'd be too inebriated to fight back. you were wrong and you soon figure that out when he easily overpowered you , flipping you over so that now he was on top. “stupid fucking girl.” he wrapped his fingers around your throat. “did you think this would work?” you couldn't breathe , your hands scratching at his hands trying to pull them off , you both were basically fighting at this point. he managed to get up , pulling you from the bed by your hair , dragging you , throwing you down to the floor , the crack of our wrist and your scream didn't phase him at all. “ni-niki please don't.” he picked up the bat.
“that wrist of yours is the least of your fucking problems.”
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©LUVYENI
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fraugwinska · 5 months ago
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I've seen fanfics about Alastor × deaf reader
But what about.. blind reader? Maybe they lost sight in some battle
How they would be confused meeting Alastor at first: did someone turn the radio on- oh, thats a demon talking!
And how confused would be Alastor as his feelings started to grow towards the reader: he just enjoys their company! What else can he do when they like to listen to him spilling the tea and just rambling about everything because of his soothing voice? His favourite listener
Then.. their relationships get a bit different as in another one relaxing evening together Alastor asks if they want to see him..
And on their confused silence he answers bringing their hands to his face for them to "read" his apperience..
Just thought it would be hella fun to read! Not good enough at english, sorry for mistakes
I love your writtings! 💕Stay hydrated and don't dare to overwork yourself ☝
Hiya lovely Anon! <3 I put my own little spin on your idea! I love fics like those, and this one sat in my drafts for ages - I hope the wait was worth it! Thank you so much for this ask! <3 Warning: Contains depictions of attempted SA, please read with caution - MINORS DNI!
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The bookstore was always quiet in the evenings. Well, it was quiet almost always.
Hell wasn't the most... appreciative place for tombs and books that didn't have porn or egregious murder in them, so your shop wasn't really frequented much. Occasionally, a new sinner would find their way in, not yet taken by the unpunished excessiveness Pentagram City had to offer, and would buy a book or two, never to be seen again. The rest of your clientele were loyal regulars, mostly elderly demons and imps getting books for their masters in other rings. It wasn't much, but enough for you to get by, live a simple, modest life. Your shop was mundane enough as to not attract the more dangerous ones the city had to offer, yet held the beauty that only an antique bookstore could, with a reading room like atmosphere, mismatched armchairs scattered in between the high bookshelves and an old radio on the counter playing in the background.
That didn't mean there weren't moments you'd have to get yourself out of some serious situations. On rare occasions, the patrons of your bookstore became too demanding or rough with you, thinking they could intimidate or screw you over because of your... handicap. After all, how would you see the hand reaching in the register, or the little spell book slipping into the inside pocket of a jacket. The blindness you were born with on earth hadn't left you in your death, but the enhanced sensitivity of your other senses made things easier for you. You had learned to take your losses, unwilling to let these moments ruin your confidence in your work or diminish your spirits.
You navigated through the little store with ease, putting laid-out books back into their designated places - feeling the backs of the books like it spelled their names, and motion memory guiding you through the maze of furniture and shelves - your plain, long felt skirt softly brushing this edge and that wood panel. What you wore wasn't fancy, modern or stylish attire, but it was comfortable enough. And who were you kidding? At the end of the day, nobody cared for your less-than-ordinary appearance, but yourself.
Your mind had been drifting around between random topics for a while until, on your last trip back to the front desk, your round ears picked up the bell on your door and the faint sound of staticy talking, coming from the direction of the counter. A customer, at this hour no less! But you were sure you had turned off the radio hours ago... maybe the old thing was finally breaking down, you thought with a little sadness. You hurried to it, still hung back in your thoughts and babbling as you turned the desk to shut the little device off so your customer wasn't disturbed.
"Hello, I'm terribly sorry if you're bothered by the radio, I should have turned it off. Feel free to browse through-" you paused mid-sentence as the air shifted slightly. You had turned the familiar knob but the filtered voice didn't stop talking. Your ears moved around, as if the source was everywhere and nowhere at the same time, trying to determine its source, when the other occupant of the store laughed at the surprise written on your face.
"Apologies aren't necessary my dear, but that wasn't the little device here but me, asking for service. Although I'm quite fond of a little old fashioned tune - comes with the title of the Radio Demon, you see." He talked with amusement, or something in his tone seemed powerful and dangerous. As his words started to make sense to you, you held a sharp breath, struggling not to take a step back. Of course you've heard of Alastor, the Radio Demon, but you've never had the honor (or dread) of meeting him in person. Rumors had spread around in hell a long time before you'd even gotten here, stories of a powerful overlord who'd broadcasted the screams and torments of his victims, spreading fear to everyone, from sinner, to lesser demons, to even other overlords themselves.
"W-welcome to my store, sir! What can I help you with today?" You smiled pleasantly, hoping that showing him respect and going out of your way for a courteous interaction could possibly keep you from being torn to pieces. You heard the ruffling of fabric - a hand reaching into a pocket, wrapping it's fingers around a thick piece of paper, along a low, distorted chuckle. "A good friend of mine recommended your store to me, I am looking for a few... unusual books, hopefully to be found here."
You waited into the silence, one second, two, three. When he said nothing, only static noise slowly increasing in volume, you decided to speak again. "May you tell me the titles, sir?"
"If you'd take the list, little mouse, everything I need is on it." His voice had an edge of annoyance to it now. You didn't know when his presence had approached so close to where you stood, and couldn't decide if that was a good sign or not. You sighed, pulling the darkened glasses off you wore day in, day out, revealing the white irises that gave your blindness away. After a sound like a record scratch, you managed a helpless smile. "I fear if it's not in braille, it won't do much to hand me that."
The other demon was silent again, but the crackling static had dropped, and before you had time to add something that wouldn't get you gutted, he'd barked a laugh, sounding genuinely amused and entertained.
"My, isn't that a bit cliché, my dear? A blind mouse? Any chance you have two siblings?"
That joke was new. You dared to husk out a little laugh, too, your hands gently resting on the counter top. "I hate to disappoint, but no. I even have my tail still, no farmers wife with a knife."
There was a change in his stance, his coat sweeping the air as you heard the list was laid on the wooden surface in front of you, surprisingly not crushed or crumbling under the power of his hand. Coldness swept like waves of fog over the front desk and your hands, you pulled them away with a shudder, confused, but your patron just hummed.
"There, that should've done the trick. I'd rather not want to read my little.... requests aloud, they're a rather curious bunch, I believe. Very useful, though, especially those for more creative types in cooking."
You reached for the paper and thumbed through the braille letters one after the other, feeling a long list of more... taboo tomes you were sure wouldn't have even been mentioned in any respectable catalogue. Luckily, you were a glutton for oddities and curiosities, and with a small smile of pride you found that you had every book on the list on hand. Maybe it was this pride thatgave you the confidence so that you didn't reply and instead swiftly jumped ahead, bustling through the rows and pillars of bookshelves. Every step was calculated, from the short staircase to the tiny nook where you stored spell books and tombs of dark magic, navigating past all the tables and furniture to the particular bookcase containing ritualistic cookbooks. Once you had a feeling where a book would be located, you searched the titles by stroking the backs with the pads of your fingers, tapping quickly and analyzing the material and little bumps and nicks of the spines. Once found, you traced the edges of the piece and drew up a mental image in your mind to check it wasn't bent, dirty, torn or had any parts missing. Your fingers were your eyes, and they were keen.
As you carried the rather heavy stack back, the Radio Demon hadn't moved an inch from where you'd left him, as far as you could tell. It had been hard not to acknowledge him throughout the ordeal while your brain just went on autopilot after realizing he didn't mean to kill you, at least for the moment. On one hand, that was comforting; on the other hand, it was absolutely horrifying.
"Here you go, sir. Please, feel free to check if they are up to your standards." You set the books down carefully, counting the number of thick covers in the stack to be sure and your fingers brushed sharp talons as apparently the Radio Demon reached out to inspect the books as you offered. With a sharp inhale and a heated face you quickly drew back, stammering apologies. He only chuckled faintly, the static surrounding him crackling as if it, too, was amused.
You stood silently behind the counter and listened to him flipping through the pages, turning the books around to read their contents, humming here and there. He seemed content with the lot and you were sure that once he'd paid, he would leave, hopefully sparing your meager existence and not leaving any destruction behind.
"Very well! These will do perfectly, little mouse. And, I have to say, you have a very interesting collection. The quality of your inventory exceeds what Zestial promised. You might expect a few more visits from me in the future, if you don't mind."
The last sentence wasn't a question. It was a statement, underlined with the sound of a heavy stack of bills placed on your counter. Your hands confirmed what your ears already suspected - your patron well overpaid you.
"Not at all, sir, but you gave me too much mon...."
But the air shifted again, and a chime and a thud later you knew he had already walked out, his laughter the last thing you heard before the door clicked shut.
“...ey.”
What a peculiar man, you thought, still processing the entire experience. His voice had been darling, no wonder he chose radio as his medium. You were sure his smile you've heard so many demons whisper about was wide and predatory, but he had been so polite. Even the nickname he'd given you had been charming, compared to the names and remarks you've had thrown at you by lesser demons, and you shook your head at the ridiculousness of your face flushing at the memory.
'Little mouse.'
After a long moment, you finally counted the money and put the amount he tipped you aside in your hidden safe, making a note to yourself that you would give it back to him when he'd return. If he'd return.
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Weeks passed and the Radio Demon had kept his promise and visited again. And again. And again.
The first time he came back and you, already flustered, offered to give back the surplus money he'd paid you, he was baffled before he heartily laughed and ignored your attempts to return it to him, instead buying three more books and leaving you with even more undeserved cash in your hands.
Almost once a week he'd return to your store, sometimes he'd have a whole list of books he'd want to buy, and he almost never left your store with empty hands. Sometimes he'd sit down in one of the many chairs to peruse a tomb you set aside for him, predicting he'd find interest in it as you learned his tastes in literature, and he'd hum almost happily when you found a new curiosity or a grimoire that was especially hard to come by. And sometimes he just came in for a quick visit, not even intending to buy a book but just to chat a bit. With every encounter your initial apprehension shifted into appreciation, so much so that you'd grow to eagerly await his return, the sound the bell made when he enthusiastically swung the door open or the slight distortion of your radio when he changed the station to one that suited his mood better.
You were a bit enchanted with him, if you were honest. Not only had every interaction been intriguing and entertaining, he'd been one of the rare visitors who hadn't maliciously mocked or threatened you, or worse. And you found that you enjoyed the small banters you could have with him, the fact that he treated you no differently than anyone else. It was refreshing, and each of his visits put a spring in your step for days, no matter how hard you tried not to think about him.
By the time several months had passed, he became your favorite client and he seemed to have an everlasting interest in your inventory as well as yourself. You learned that he was quite a wealthy demon with a seemingly insatiable appetite for entertainment, and always with an eye for quality, which you vowed yourself to provide in return, if only to keep him coming back. You found you could spend hours with only him at the store over freshly made coffee, discussing various literary concepts and historical events he used as references, and it was a delight to laugh together about some particularly odd rituals in books like 'Old Spells to Cure Thievery' or 'Blood Rituals of the Flaying Kink'.
Sometimes, when you'd hand him a new find or a heavy tomb, his hands would lightly brush yours and his voice would drop and become a bit softer, quieter as he cooed his nickname for you - 'Little Mouse'. With your lack of vision, you didn't know how his face looked nor how his expression would've surely changed - but his voice took on a tone that would be fitting for a date, and the touches made you shiver lightly and tingle and you felt heat spread all over your chest and the pit of your stomach when he did. If your body betrayed those reactions on your face, he wouldn't tease you for them. At least, you never noticed if he did. Maybe he had the grace to simply not remark on them, you thought, for once grateful for your blindness so you wouldn't have to see your own - surely ridiculously dumbstruck - expression reflected in the windows of your storefront. But the physical contact between you became more frequent, more deliberately made, and you'd caught his own quiet sigh every now and again when he lingered for just a moment longer before the doorbell chimed and he'd leave again.
One evening, as you were cleaning up and preparing for tomorrow's customers, a soft knock on the already locked door pulled you out of the haze of your radio's gentle tune. Turning around, you moved slowly towards the sound of the interruption, adjusting your dark glasses.
"My apologies, but we're closed for tonight, please come back tomorrow."
There was no reply, no sound of footsteps and your ears strained to catch a whisper of a sound, to find a new hint as to who was outside. Another knock, harder now, sounded and this time it took all your courage to approach. Your hair stood at its roots as your hands rested at the wooden door, your senses tingling that you better not open - that danger stood in front of your store.
"Please go, we'll be open again tomorrow."
Your reflexes, acting faster than your brain, made you stumble back as the glass of your front doors shattered into a million pieces. In a panic you tumbled to the floor, hands over your face as the pieces broke apart on impact. There were voices, rough and foreign sounding, that accompanied the stomping of boots. You shuffled back on the ground, trying to get out of the way before being stepped or kicked upon, reaching to the walls and bookshelves to find some stability to guide you in getting away from what was coming towards you.
"T-take what you want, please, I won't stop you. Just... just take it and leave."
Your words were shaking in fear and the little hope that a verbal warning and submission would placate the robbers. To your horror the voices - two, if your panicked mind didn't fool you - erupted into raspy laughter and you realized then that money might not be the only thing these demons were after.
"You were right, Hank. This is going to be easier than I thought, look at how helpless the bitch is."
"Told 'ya, Tommy Boy. An' the best part..." supposedly the one called Hank said deviously, and you were yanked up at your wrists and thrown over what must've been your counter, your glasses slipping and breaking at the impact and your eyes dwelling with hot tears. You recognized this voice… just a few days ago this demon had come into the shop, just as Alastor was about to leave, lingering around the shop and leaving quickly mumbling a half-asses excuse without buying anything after you asked if you could help him find something and Alastor's static crackled dangerously. The same smell of sharp sweat and wet tobacco lingered around him, making your stomach turn. "... she can't tell anyone who we are. Hoh, look, her eyes are some freaky shit, 'n you bet her tits 're freaky, too. S'not even our damn birthday but looks like we got ourselves a gift. 'Ya wanna go first?"
"You know me - Don't mind if I do."
With a heart beating out of your chest and shallow breaths, you tried to feel with your only free hand for something, anything, to defend yourself with. You had to defend yourself. Anything would be better than what horrific thing they were about to do. There was only the flat, leather bound accounting book close by, but it was better than nothing, and in a motion of impulse and fear you slashed with it into the general direction you felt the weight of Tommy settle onto the counter top above you. His complice bellowed angrily, making your ears ring, and Tommy snatched the weapon from your hand to throw it away. His breath smelled of filth and cold ash, the skin of your throat burned when he wrapped his calloused hands around it.
"We're gonna show ya your fucking place, worthless blind cum-chunk bitch, an' when we're done with ya..."
There was a sudden, instant sound of feedback, a wet splatter and a horrified scream and hasty, fleeing footsteps before a wave of relief washed over you as your neck fell free from the intruders grasp and you heard a familiar voice.
"Oh, my dear fellow, do go on. I'd love to hear the end of that sentence." A low, distorted chuckle followed. Alastor sounded different - menacing. Bone-chilling. If those words would've been directed at you, you would've been mortified. But it sounded like honey in your ears, knowing who the recipient was. "Ah, how silly of me - surely it's much harder to speak without vocal chords."
Your teeth sank into your bottom lip as the sounds of violence became ever more gruesome. A whipping sound, a wail and a choked gasp and two stomach-churning thuds of something hitting the floor.
"Well that's not handy at all - you can't even sign your pathetic pleas now. How unfortunate to be in such a vulnerable position, isn't it?"
A thud, then another - your stomach turned as the room got flooded with a different type of warmth. Your lungs and chest stung from the stench of iron and decay and your throat hurt as you realized one aura had vanished from the store and Tommy was most likely reduced to a fleshy pile on the ground. Suddenly you felt a sharp but warm, strangely long but familar hand cradling the back of your skull, pressing your cheek against a broad, angled shoulder, another wrapped tightly around your shoulders, resting under your ears. It was quiet, now - you could only hear your staggered breathing and Alastors static that had gone down a notch or two. You thought his breathing had become more labored, too, when he slowly, gently, let go and straightened you to bring you to a standing position, his hands shifting into their usual shape as they came to rest lightly on your upper arms.
"Are you alright, dear?" His voice was almost back to the tone you were so fond of - almost. There still was an undertone, a dangerous sharpness. Your fingertips instinctively grasped and searched until they met with the familiar texture of his clothing and you nodded.
"Y-yes... I think so, yes. What - what happened to the other one?"
There was a deep laugh, one you haven't heard yet from him. "Oh, my dear, no need to fret over that. I'll deal with that pest later. I should've dealt with him the moment he stepped into your store. An oversight I intend to shortly redeem."
It should have frightened you - should've made the situation so, so much worse, hearing that Alastor planned more torture for that vile creature, probably even an equally gruesome death like the one his friend got. But his words only calmed you. Made you feel... safer. Your fingers lingered on his suit longer than you expected, tracing the detailed seams of his lapels, smoothing out invisible wrinkles on the fabric, feeling the details of the cool, metallic buttons. And he let you. He stood still, allowing your hands to see what your eyes couldn't.
"I can't decide if it's a blessing or a shame that you can't see the carnage I caused. Although I am pleased that you didn't have to look at the ugly faces of those cretins who tried to defile you." He took your hands from his coat and placed them softly on his face. "But maybe… you can try to envision what your savior looks like, hm?"
His hands left yours again, though you found the sensation and feeling of his touch remained where he placed them. Your heart fluttered as you couldn't keep yourself from running your palms and fingertips over his skin, cautiously tracing his angular jaw, making out the distinct feeling and sharp lines of a toothy grin. Then you pushed further, fingers running along a slight bow and over the indent where his brows arched, his cheekbones prominent enough you felt the warmth of blood flushing under the skin as the mental image of his face got clearer.
You were in awe that you could do this, that he encouraged it even, but he allowed you the tender moment, making a muffled humming sound and exhaling quietly under your soft, curious touch. You realized at last that his eyes were closed for you, the skin there slightly pliant and firm at the same time. With the tips of your fingers, you followed the firm, straight bridge of his nose down the length of it and he inhaled sharply when you brushed his lips. The familiar sound of static increased just enough for you to realize there had been complete silence aside from your soft and his steady breathing. He opened his eyes again, slowly taking your hands away to leave a feathery light, lingering kiss on your knuckles as he hummed thoughtfully.
"Now, let me clean up this mess, we don't want you stumble over any... unpleasant bits." You heard a snap and felt the air whirring around you, filling with a thick, fog-like sensation as you heard your floors creaking, wood mending and cracking and tiny bits of glass swirling around you, piecing itself together and returning into their frame. Not even a minute later the shop felt normal again, the unpleasant smell gone as well, and with it the overall apprehension the threat had caused.
"Thank you, Alastor. Truly, I don't know what would've happened if you weren't..." you started, pausing as his hands wandered gently around your face to put on your miraculously repaired glasses. He laughed softly, tapping a gentle, slender finger on the tip of your nose.
"Luckily we didn't find out, did we? Ah, but, unfortunately, I'd say the night has been spoiled for us, given that there's another vermin to take care of." He walked behind you, carefully setting the accounting book you had used as an attempted weapon into your hands, his taloned fingers curling gently around yours as if to make sure you had a proper hold on it.
"You lock up when I'm gone, little mouse. And who knows - Maybe we'll continue to see each other... tomorrow night."
And then you felt another gentle peck, this time on your flushed cheek, and the door opened with the bell ringing, the faint crackle of a radio fading and his heavy, signature scent of burned wood and bourbon lingering around you as you hurried to bolt the doors shut, heart racing painfully in your chest at the prospect of adding even more parts of the Radio Demon to the image in your mind.
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undiscovered-horizon · 1 year ago
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[Mihawk prefers to keep work and his private life separate. On one rare occasion when these two have to comingle, Mihawk is rather upset at the attention you attract.]
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When Mihawk said "It will be just a moment, my dear", you didn't think the issue would take more than half an hour. Yet here you are, two hours after he had left you in a fussy lounge in the back of Midnight Grove...
...and not a Dracule Mihawk in sight.
You let out an exasperated sigh and take another sip of your mai tai. The band is playing yet another song that sounds vaguely identical to the previous one. Similarly, the mob of other patrons seems to be merging into one, murky background of blurry figures in your eyes. Being used to the peaceful yet refined companionship of Mihawk, the aura of Midnight Grove is beyond unbearable.
Mindlessly playing with a coaster featuring a howling wolf, you don't notice a Marine cadet approaching you.
"I'm afraid I have to arrest you, my lady."
The unexpected and, frankly, unwelcome comment makes you look up from the devilishly fascinating coaster. Your eyes fall on a well-built man with long hair and a smug expression. The glint in his brown eyes makes you tense up in discomfort.
"Excuse me?" you ask him, not understanding the meaning behind his words.
The cadet gives you a bad parody of a flirtatious smile. "You look too beautiful," he purrs out.
You can't help but laugh. Somehow, you're undecided whether his pick-up disgusts or amuses you or maybe both. Perhaps his audacity forced a laugh out of you - the ring on your fourth finger is neither modest nor simple. Considering how the large gem in the golden band shone in the low light of the Midnight Grove, even a blind man could tell from a mile away that you are anything but single.
"Anyone waiting for you at home?" he continues his rather poor attempt at flirting.
With a casual flick of your wrist, you toss the coaster on the table. Feeling both curious and entertained, you decide to play along - for now, at least. "Why are you asking, sailor boy?" you question before taking another sip of your drink. The ice has melted and the diluted drink now tastes mostly of old freezer.
"He must be mighty jealous about you. And considering the gold you're wearing," he makes a point of staring at your cleavage, "a millionaire, too."
"Oh, this?" You look down at the necklace of jewels and pearls. A memory flashes before your eyes, suddenly remembering Mihawk's face, barely visible in candlelight as he clasps the jewellery around your neck, telling you sweet things only men in romance novels tend to say. "Yes, it's a gift from someone. I'm sure you know him," you tell the Marine cadet in a casual tone, already imagining how hilarious his face of terror will be when he realizes whose spouse he's been trying to woo. "Tall, yellow eyes, a rather large sword and...
"Awfully annoyed at your impertinence, boy."
The low, guttural voice laced with withheld anger makes both of you look away. There, standing right behind the cadet, is Mihawk himself. Part of his large physique blocks the scarce lighting, making him look significantly more insidious. In the twilight of the Midnight Grove, with fury burning in his eyes, Mihawk appears closer to a demon than a man.
Although the room is dark, you can clearly see the way the cadet's blood draws from his face and the way his eyes are suddenly bigger than an owl's. He scrambles to his feet, almost falling off his chair. Then, muttering apologies and promises of better behaviour, the young Marine runs off only to disappear in the crowd of Midnight Grove's patrons.
Mihawk's eyes follow the youngling for a moment.
"I should have him strung up and killed," he says more to himself than you.
"Or," you speak up, a playful smile curling your lips, "you could sit down, have a drink with your beautiful wife and gloat about the fact that you're the only man to undress her."
You might just be a witch because the change in his demeanour is instant. There is still something wild in his bright, yellow eyes but it's not bloodthirst or anger anymore. You notice how he glances at the ring and the necklace, admiring his own signs of "ownership". One would think they're big enough to send the message. Alas, some people just refuse to receive it.
"You have me convinced," Mihawk says as he sits down next to you.
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