#it's fine; i have an old controller I can use but I switched the old one out specifically because I didn't like playing Hades with it :(

[blind-alchemists]

so I broke my controller playing Hades II last night ...

[ame-to-ame]

there are things that you don't do for a year or more and pick up just right where you left off and these days i fear loving you might be one of them

[spaghett-onaplate]

using the school bathroom stealth but pre-t is the scariest fucking thing but thusfar it's always been fine. mostly sucks on my period

[devotedlystrangewizard]

the corpse of king minos is very fucking big and Scary but you can parry his punches pretty easily and thats the easiest way i can explain how good ultrakill feels

[snorfbin]

.

[ccsainzleclerc5516]

She’s Not So Little Anymore

Pairing: Lewis Hamilton x reader

Warnings: none, dad Lewis yes pls

“You’re not leaving the house until you change your clothes!”

“But dad-“ Harper stammered in a broken voice and teary eyes.

“There’s no but, I said what I said. You can go out with your friends after you put some clothes on. End of discussion.” Lewis told his daughter sternly before turning and heading towards the living room.

“I hate you!!” Harper growled bursting into tears and slamming the door of her room.

“Don’t slam the door at me!” He said in a raised tone. Sitting on the couch he sighed and rubbed his face feeling awful because of the argument between him and his fifteen-year-old daughter.

It was not natural for Lewis to yell and get into heated arguments with his daughter. The two have always had a special relationship - she was daddy's little girl for whom he would remove the stars from the sky just to make her happy. Harper loved and was just as close to you as she was to Lewis, but still, her daddy has always been her number one.

But since Harper entered her teenage phase, it has become very difficult for Lewis to accept that she is actually growing up, that she is changing, that she is interested in some other things that are actually normal for her age.

He really was having a hard time facing the fact that his little girl is not so little anymore. That’s why often broke out arguments between the two of them when Harper would stay out too late with her friends, when she would come home late or mention that she had a crush on a boy or for example like today when she would wear something that Lewis thought was too revealing.

Lewis did all this because he loves her too much and wants to protect her, but, of course, the teenager thinks that her father is working against her and that he is "purposely ruining her life".

Fortunately, not long after the argument, you came back from grocery shopping and found Lewis sitting on the couch looking at the switched off TV.

“Hi, baby” You greeted him happily, but you felt a strange energy in the air.

“Hey” He muttered not turning to look at you.

“Is everything okay?” You ask suspiciously, leaving the heavy bags on the hallway floor.

“Everything is fine except our daughter just told me she hates me”

You immediately knew what it was about. You were aware of how much it affected Lewis. You weren't always happy with some of your daughter's behaviors either, but you understood that it was just a phase and that it would pass, but you also understood that it was difficult for Lewis to face it.

You sighed walking up closer to the couch to Lewis from behind and bent down to wrap your arms around him.

“And that is why?” You asked pressing a kiss to his cheek.

“Because she thinks it’s normal to leave the house wearing a short ass dress that doesn’t even have any straps God forbid some sleeves” He says visibly upset and you can’t help but chuckle at him. “That’s not funny, y/n?”

“That’s not, but you are” You say making yourself comfortable in his lap. “You’re being too overprotective of her-“

“Of course I’m overprotective of her, she’s my little girl!” He cuts you off trying to justify his actions.

“Would you let me finish, please?”

“I’m sorry..”

“She’s no longer a little girl, Lew. You have to make your peace with that. Sometimes I don't like her clothing choices or her behavior either, but that's why we're here to guide her. But you forbid her too many things and she sees it as you trying to control her.”

“I just..” He sighs leaning his head against your chest. “I just want to protect her.. I miss the time when she was with me non-stop. We used to do so many things together now she only wants to hang out with her friends.”

“Baby, that’s normal. If it were any different, we would have been worried.” You assure him putting your hands on his cheeks. “You’re still her number one, you’ll always be.”

“Youe ability to calm me down amazes me.” He smiles at your soothing and comforting words. “I don’t know what I’d do without you. I love you more than you know.”

“I love you too, baby” You place a soft kiss on his lips. “Now go and talk to her”

Lewis immediately got up and headed towards Harper's room while you decided to sort the groceries you had brought into the house a little while ago.

“My princess?” Lewis said gently knocking on the door. “Can I come in?”

Almost the same second, the door opened revealing crying Harper who was still sobbing. What Lewis didn't expect was for Harper to give him a tight hug and start crying in his arms.

“Baby, what’s wrong? Why are you crying?” Lewis asked a little worried.

“Because you made me say that I hate you. And I don’t hate you, daddy, I’m sorry I didn’t mean it.” She cried. It stung her as much as it stung Lewis because Harper is aware of how special her relationship with her father is.

“Baby, it’s okay. I know you didn’t mean it. I’m sorry too.” He comforted her rubbing her back. “I don’t like when we can’t talk things out and I hate when we argue. We don’t do that, that’s not us.”

“I know we don’t do that. I don’t like it either” She said quietly.

“It’s hard for me to accept that you’re growing up and that you are no longer my little girl.” He lifts up her head to look at her. “I promise to try to be more understanding of your wishes.”

“Daddy, I’m always gonna be your little girl.” Her words warmed Lewis's heart. She knew what she meant by that. The love Harper has for her dad will always be strong and special and nothing can ever replace it. Lewis was grinning like a child thinking how he is the luckiest man in the world to have the two best girls in his life, Harper and you.

[mrpenguinpants]

See you, space cowboy

— Parting words at the end of the day.

— Jing Yuan, Blade, Dan Heng, Imbibitor Lunae, Dr. Ratio + Luocha

[Masterlist]

The title is from Cowboy Bebop. I used their "Parting" voice lines if anyone was curious. Ignore how I'm using a Kafka gif for a fic with only men. I promise this is still a "genshin" blog.

Jing Yuan

"Mmm, rest well... My apologies. There is still some work to be done and I can't see you out personally."

You blink at him before you narrow your eyes and give him a judging stare. Your fingers reach out to curl around the sleeve of his uniform, giving it a small tug that he willingly steps into despite his earlier words. He doesn't try to hide the amusement in his eyes, even letting out a soft chuckle that makes your lips downturn into a frown. Jing Yuan reaches up, smoothing the crease between your eyebrows before resting on your cheek.

"It's obvious that you're tired. You should rest for a little bit more before you go back to work," you lightly scold as you give another weak tug for him to return to your shared home. Another chuckle escapes him as he places his other hand on your shoulder, rubbing soothing circles through the fabric for a few seconds to attempt to appease you. "It's been a while since we've shared a meal together..."

Jing Yuan's eyes soften yet he politely removes your hand attached to his sleeve. This time he avoids your gaze, the disappointment flowing heavy in the air, when he shakes his head and steps back.

"Next time, I promise," he whispers, squeezing your hand to hopefully convey his sincerity. "I'll take a day off as well. I heard that our Trailblazer friend has restored Aurum Alley back to its former glory. I'm sure Yanqing would love to join us as well."

You seem to mull over it in your head. To trade one night for a full day is tempting, plus Yanqing has been running himself ragged given the recent events. It would be nice to have a break where it can just be the three of you without any military or political weight hovering above you.

"...fine. But if you break your promise, I'll sic Mimi on you," you pout at him, twisting your hand from his grip to poke him in the chest.

"I...shall plan accordingly then," he laughs awkwardly because he knows you will follow through with that threat. He still has the scratch marks on the walls as proof. Playful or not, Mimi is unfortunately an overly heavy lion.

Blade

"Go. When the mara strikes, you don't want to be next to me."

"Is that what you say to everyone who tries to help you?" you huff as you carefully bandage his wounds, the white bandages seeping red slowly as you wind them around his torso. Despite the sarcasm dripping from your tone, he can tell you're genuinely angry with him this time. If it were anyone else, he would shake them off to leave, but when you look like you're two breaths away from bursting into tears, so he can only take a deep breath and let you bandage him up.

"They'll heal. They always do," he says after a moment of silence. Alas, his attempt at comfort does nothing but make you more stressed. He winces slightly when you pull too tightly on the bandage, the gauze scrapping against his gash that's already stitching itself together again.

"I know, so shut up already," you spit in an attempt to save face, and he decides to offer a bit of kindness by not commenting on it, "I'm not doing this for you."

He knows. You used to be an ordinary medic before the Stelleron Hunters recruited you, and you incidentally had to switch careers to something more violent. But old habits die hard, and this small bit of control helps to ease your worries. Even if it's only by a small margin. Your weakened hold lets the bandages fall into a heap on your lap as your shoulder shag. You press your forehead against his shoulder just slightly above where his wound is already rapidly healing into another scar.

"Can't you be more careful?" you sigh into his shoulder, a smear of red on your cheek that you both ignore. Blood will wash out.

"I'm sorry," he replies. He won't lie to you and say that he'll try. For as much as the mara controls him and his emotions, he wills them away for a few seconds.

Dan Heng

"Time to turn in already…? Thanks for the reminder. It's easy to lose track of time in the archives — before you know it, a whole day's gone by… See you tomorrow."

You have to stifle your laugh lest you make Dan Heng more embarrassed that he kicks you out of the room to save some dignity. Even though he says all that, he hasn't once lessened his hold on you for you to actually get up and leave. If anything, his arms around your waist tighten so you're practically molded into his chest. To be fair, you had lost track of time as well. After the recent adventures and running everywhere, it felt nice to settle into Dan Heng's lap and waste a day away in the archives, just basking in each other's presence. No crazy hunter trying to stab Dan Heng or overactive mara-struck enemies attempting to decapitate you. Just the hum of the machines and the warmth of company that neither of you are ready to leave so soon.

"You know...technically it's already "tomorrow" since it's 2am. We could just stay here," you muse as you tilt your head up to look at his unimpressed expression. The longer the two of you stay up, the worse the rest of the day will be from the lack of sleep. Plus it's not healthy to stay up to reset a sleep schedule.

"You know we can't do that. Besides, you might be comfortable but this shelf has been digging into my back for the past few hours," he sighs, shifting his body to prove a point further.

"10 more minutes," you bargain.

"2," he denies flatly.

"5?" you try again.

"2." He stares you at with a frown.

"3!" You stare right back with a cheeky grin.

"...fine."

He hides the fond smile into your hair as you cheer on gaining a single minute.

Dan Heng • Imbibitor Lunae

"It's getting late, I won't be staying up much longer. Sleep well."

You have to stifle your amusement less you make Dan Heng recede even further into his shell, but you can't help but think it's kind of cute how awkward this dragon can be sometimes. The way he stands so stiffly and not at all relaxed for sleep, how his eyes are staring at anything but you who is standing right in front of him, coupled with the uneasy way he says for you to "sleep well.". As if he's questioning if it's okay for him to say something so casually despite all the time you've spent in each other's company. Dragon horns or not.

"Much longer...huh. And pray tell, how many minutes does that equate to again? It's kinda hard to tell when I'm talking to an infinite respawn glitch," you tease, lightly punching him in the shoulder makes Dan Heng crack a tiny smile. You mentally pat yourself on the back for that little win. Ever since the Astral Express concluded its journey on the Xianzhou, the new dragon had been walking on eggshells around everyone.

"You're talking too much to that hacker girl. That's not how the vidyadhara reincarnation works either," he sighs but the tension is gone from his shoulders. If you're able to joke about it then you're not mad at him lying about his origins, even though you haven't been in the first place. "But I will return to the Archives with the system hour."

You spare a glance at the clock. It'll be midnight in another 20 minutes. Has it really gotten that late so quickly?

"Alright, but if I check the data bank and there are new entries, I'm kicking your door open mister," you place your hands on your hips as you gesture two V-sign fingers at your own eyes, then at him. "Good night Dan Heng. See you in the morning.".

Dr. Ratio

"Another day has passed. If your problem still hasn't been solved, is it possible that the problem is you?"

He tilts his head to the side gracefully as you hurl your pen at him. The cheap plastic breaks on impact and leaves a smear of ink that you'll have to clean up unless you want another stain for Dr. Ratio to insult you for. Perhaps you can use his name as a tax write-off? It's the least he could do for you with how much attitude you put up with.

"What if my problem is you? If you didn't dodge then I wouldn't have to waste so many precious pens," you counter as you reach for the white cloth hanging from his waist to use to mop up the ink. One that has Ratio slapping your hand away with his stone booklet. He even dares to wipe at it with a handkerchief, as if touching your skin is equivalent to touching trash, rather than offering it to you!

"Ow! Geez, you really don't hold back. I wasn't going to actually use your clothing!" you fake sob as you nurse your poor hand close to your chest. It doesn't hurt as badly as you're making it out to be. You've seen Veritas throw chalk at his enemies and leave chalk-sized holes in them. "Besides, it's not like I can do anything about my "problems". [ Rahu ] isn't the easiest place to investigate..."

Your body slumps in as you think back on how little progress you've made with that strange planet. Diamond has been kind enough to not assign a deadline but you can feel the quiet disappointment every time you report that you don't have anything new to share each month. Maybe Veritas is right. Maybe the problem is you.

"Which is why you've been given the role. The numbers written on a stats page or monthly reports do not measure the trial and error of someone's pursuit of knowledge. Very few scholars I know would be capable of continuing for the sole purpose of finding the truth. Surely you're capable of seeing that? Unless I've severely underestimated your intelligence," Veritas states as if it were a fact. He reaches to take your hand, giving it a once over to see if he has truly hurt you. His words bring a small smile as your heart swells at his encouragement as you squeeze his hand back.

Luocha

"Have an early rest. I'll keep watch here."

It's the last thing you hear before your eyelids droop close and sleep takes you under. Your body slumps against Luocha's side, his hands already out and ready to catch you, before he gently maneuvers you so your head rests in his lap. He hums humourlessly as he combs through the strands of your hair, a bit of dirt clinging onto the ends. He'll have to tend to that later.

"I wonder what someone like you dreams of," he contemplates although he doesn't expect an answer. Your face is the picture of serenity as your chest rises up and down slowly with each breath, completely dead to the world. You're far too trusting of him, even his first meeting on friendly terms with Dan Heng hadn't made that man lower his guard. Sure, they had been on the same team but Dan Heng would constantly look behind him as if he was waiting to get stabbed in the back by Luocha's sword. Yet here you are, fast asleep in his lap and entirely defenseless.

A loud buzzing sounds from your pocket that Luocha reaches for to check, you're not going to be awake to answer it anyway.

"What considerate companions you have," he muses as Dan Heng's caller ID flashes on your phone before his call gets sent to voicemail. It's truly a blessing that all phones operate under the same system programming as he holds down the power button, effectively shutting the phone and other potential distractions silent. Under the artificial night light, when it's just the two of you here, no one can see the secret smile on his lips. Nor the possessive hold he has on you.

[inzaynety]

part of the job ⤫

➢ summary: after using no. 10, hoshina realizes one of the reasons behind his drive to fight. after listening, you realize the limits to your everything. 

➢ content: hoshina x fem!reader, 1607 words, non-explicit injuries, spoilers from the manga (fight starting at ch. 88 and hoshina’s past lwky), locking someone up (crack part lol), slight angst, hurt/comfort

➢ notes: yo🫸🏼🫷🏼this is more of a character analysis for hoshina and reader so i added some dialogue from the manga itself to connect it a little more (w/ reader influence ofc be we’re delulu like that)

pt. 2 - pt. 3 of slice & dice - pt. 4

Not yet. My sword is right there.

He feels like he’s floating, like his body is lighter than he remembers. But there’s no time to waste, he has to grab hold—oh. That’s why he feels that way.

His arm is gone.

Hoshina stares in shock as his blade moves further and further away, and all that’s left is him and his thoughts. He can’t feel himself moving; he can’t feel himself breathing. 

If he were his brother, he would have been able to switch over to his firearms without a worry and take down the Kaiju just like that. For crying out loud, this was a smaller one. This should have been easier for him. His father and the first commander he trained for, didn't need his particular set of skills. 

And you—what were you doing there? He knows he’s dying, and he knows this is what people might see before they go. But how cruel is it when it’s your own lover staring back at you?

If he were you, what would he do? 

He’d take your other hand and shove his blade back in there, probably complaining about how hard to hold Izumo tech made them, more so than the guns at least. And he’d push you to keep on fighting even if neither of you knew you’d make it back.

Why? Because he knows how much you love your weapon. He knows how much you trained with that old thing more times than he can count. And he knows it’s the same for him.

A jarring laugh takes him out of his thoughts. Hoshina gasps and clenches his left fist, then his right. His arm was still there.

How was that?! I totally fended it off!!

That son of a bitch Kaiju No. 10.

You can’t listen.

Having been injured in a previous mission yourself, you were pretty much banned from joining the fight anywhere. Your division knows that despite whatever persona you had as their commander, if there was a place you’d want to be, you’d be there no matter what.

The only thing you could do now, however, was send your vice commander and platoon leaders off before settling into your office and waiting. The control room was only a corridor down and from the messages you’d been receiving, your team was doing just fine. 

You just didn’t know if he was. The First and Third had their fair share of strong opponents but it doesn’t seem like they ever caught a break. Even if they were going to be using Kaiju powered suits and weapons, that was never going to be enough, was it?

You only had the call with Okonogi to go off of and had placed yourself on mute so as not to distract her from her job. But it scared you instead upon hearing the Third’s own shouts and cries of their vice commander’s name.

Your finger hovers over the red button after a particularly devastating yell until an alarm blares in your office. 

“Commander! There’s a situation with Mizutani’s Platoon!” 

Without hesitation, you lift your finger off and connect it to your in-ear, placing your phone in your pocket before rushing to the control room. 

Why is it that even though I’d lose and lose, I never stopped swingin’? Why is it that even after being told I should give up time and time again, I never stopped fighting?

He stands unwavering on an equal level with Kaiju No. 10 sitting in front of him, waiting idly for his answer.

“To beat my brother.”

No.

“To hold on to the one thing I’ve got goin’ for me.”

No!

“To fulfill my duties as vice-captain.”

Quit trying to put up a front!

Hoshina doesn’t know what the monster wants to hear, but he knows they don’t have much time right now. No. 12 is much stronger than No. 10 was and he can’t imagine what would happen if he failed to neutralize it now. Only he could do something about it but now he was utterly lost. What could he do?

The world around him steadies and he blinks. Oh.

“Because swingin’ the sword...”

Kaiju No. 10 doesn’t move. 

“...is fun.”

No. 10 grits its teeth, veins popping against its skin as it rises, its eye peeking from the cross-shaped hole in its head.

That’s right.

You’re pacing back and forth, receiving poorly concealed glances sent your way by your own division. It felt like an eternity from the time you were called into the room to the time of any other update from the Third Division. This can’t be healthy.

You hate thoughts like this. They give you doubts. Doubts about things you can’t control by yourself, nor can you even if you were given the wheel. It’s not in your place to stop him or abandon your post just for him. You wish you could split yourself in half and not worry so much, but wouldn’t it be easier to find a way to get rid of that worry? What about–

“Vice Commander Hoshina has neutralized No. 12!!” Okonogi announces that you can hear it through your in-ear as well as your control room’s speakers. Your team lets out a collective cheer and sighs of relief as you visibly relax, reaching into your pocket to hang up the call. 

On the monitors, every platoon leader and officer worked with pride and neutralized their own Kaiju with ease from the moral boost that, among Shinomiya and Gen’s victories, had given them. Everything was going to be fine. 

But the piercing eyes of those thoughts stay in the back of your head.

His whole body is sore and hot when he wakes up. The smell of fresh linen and alcohol comes to his senses and when he opens his eyes, you’re right there in front of him. Hoshina’s surprised but he’s also imagining the look on the medics faces seeing you rush through the halls like he knows you did.

“Sweet–” You punch his better side and he yelps. He tries to retort at the action but one look at your face has him holding it in. 

“Dumbass! Stupid. You were—god, I swear I’m locking you up and never letting you see the light of day.” But then you’re gently pressing your face against the same arm and letting out the deepest sigh you had been keeping in. His expression softens as he brings his hand up to pat your head. 

“Not even congratulations? Good job?” You were probably aware of how much he overheated his suit and definitely aware of how he was using the prototype No. 10 suit, so that did not help in extinguishing your worries. Yeah, he was reckless alright.

Tears start to form in your eyes and while you’re grateful that your face is hidden from his sight, Hoshina knows you better than that. You must have been so worried for him while being preoccupied with your own division and everything. It was so, so hard. Your grip on the back of his pillow doesn’t go unnoticed.

The sudden thoughts hit you again and guilt runs through you. How could you think that?

“Hey–” Hoshina starts as now you’re crying, holding onto his arm with a grip just a tad lighter than the one you have on the cloth behind him. “Sweetheart, what’s wrong?” You weren’t one to cry so much, at least not lately. He made that a mission for himself. 

You only shake your head, allowing yourself to be moved by a man more hurt than yourself into his arms as he comforts you. His warmth is there, his heart is beating, and his words are spoken right into your ear to tell you he’s there. He’s alive, he’s fine. 

But what if he wasn’t? What if he didn’t make it out of there?

“Look at me.” His voice is firm, juxtaposed with the hands lifting your face to get you to focus your attention on him. “I’m right here.”

You should be here comforting him, not the other way around. Of course, your Soshiro would be the one to do this, though. You raise your eyes to him and come to the realization of the utmost contentment you’ve ever felt. Something you’ve always felt with him.

Of course, your Soshiro.

It takes a few moments but you’re able to calm yourself. He wipes away your tears with his thumbs, and waits patiently in case you want to say something, even if it is nothing at all. 

“I…” You can’t pick out your words right away, “...felt like I couldn’t do anything. Watching you like that. Soshiro,” he’s hanging onto your every word, “I thought that if, just for a second, you weren’t in my life, maybe it’d be easier to not feel like that.” Even coming from your own mouth, it sounds too harsh and too horrifying to say out loud. His hold falters, you can feel it, and you’re immediately wracked with more guilt. 

“But–”

“That’s okay.” Is what Hoshina answers first, stopping you. His hands on your face grasp you more and bring you closer to his. “I’d like to think I know ya enough to know what ya want to say. Maybe ya don’t know it yet.” The glint in his eyes are back, earning an automatic roll of your eyes. 

He’ll tell you later how much you helped him. 

“There’s my girl.” He places a kiss on your nose and rests your foreheads together. “Besides, ya can’t get rid of me that easily.”

You’ve helped him so much more than you think.

“I’ll always be here.”

©inzaynety 2024

[midnightsslut]

religion is one of the most prominent recurring themes on the album, and it has been present in some capacity for quite a few records now. taylor previously compared love to religion: her saving grace, her belief system, and a fated divine intervention (false god, cornelia street, and cruel summer are the best examples of this). ‘sacred new beginnings that became my religion’ and ‘we’d still worship this love even if it’s a false god’ are two of the defining statements about her philosophy on the lover album.

taylor doesn’t want to leave all of that behind on ttpd, at least not at the beginning. the first supernatural force she mentions is the spaceship on down bad, which she compares to a skylight of freedom in the epilogue. *something* has finally come to save her from her life of suffering. she doesn’t care if it’s a force of good at first; if anything, she’s just fine being taken away by aliens. she views this man as her destiny. it isn’t until guilty as sin? that taylor starts to ponder the moral implications of what she’s doing. is she guilty as sin for wanting to leave her previous religion and relationship behind? she comes to the conclusion that, even if she rolls the stone away and gets resurrected/redeemed, she cannot avoid the fallout. she is okay with the thought of having to wait, as long as both lovers vow to be together forever, just as she once did with someone else in false god. ‘I choose you and me religiously’ finishes the bridge of the song in a direct callback to cornelia street.

the next mention of religion has murkier imagery. she claims that she does not need the Lord’s help to save this man. she sees the halo that he has, and she can fix him herself. now that she feels free of her prior cage, she isn’t looking for divine intervention anymore. she wants control. she is their route to salvation.

when the relationship falls apart, she retreats back into the position of a believer rather than a divine figure. she compares him to a Holy Ghost who promised to save her and take her to heaven. instead, she is in hell in every sense of the word: she’s down bad and feels guilty for digging up the grave. he was a jehovah’s witness who promised that she could break free of the cage imposed by love without changing her religion altogether; she would’ve just had to switch denominations. she could still have a marriage and kids! she could still have a blue tortured poet! the man was different, but not the dreams they had together. the story of the first part of the album ends here. her faith has been broken, and she has only found any semblance of sanity by refusing to mention these belief systems altogether.

side b/the anthology blends the christian imagery of side a with goddesses, sorcerers, and prophecies. she bargains with these powers to let her have the future she wants (the prophecy). she doesn’t sound like someone believing in salvation. if anything, she feels cursed. she decides that the concept of divinely ordained timing will never work in certain relationships (‘the goddess of timing once found us beguiling / she said she was trying / peter, was she lying?’). this disdain extends onto her perception of other people’s faith (‘bet they never spared a prayer for my soul’). she does position herself as a prophet in cassandra, but even then, she admits that the role has hurt her. perhaps the pain in thank you aimee was meant to be, or perhaps she was just strong enough to build a legacy in spite of it, boulder by boulder. is she a martyr? does she want to be? or did she save herself?

the only real love song on this half of the album makes no mention of fate or any divine forces. it wasn’t meant to be. it’s not a supernatural invisible string or lightning in a bottle. she is just in love.

the album ends with the manuscript, which revisits an old story of a defining, formative heartbreak. as she sings ‘at last, she knew what the agony had been for’ while describing the legacy of her writing, she seems to revert to thinking about the purpose of trauma. the only exception is that, in this case, she is the one who found meaning in her pain by turning it into a manuscript. writing is her belief system now, and she proselytizes by telling her stories and thus giving up the manuscript.

ultimately, her belief in destiny has chewed her up and spat her out. she so desperately clung to her existing belief systems that she was fooled by a conman, which left her feeling cursed. religion is supposed to be with someone even in their darkest moments, but the album explains that taylor often felt abandoned. the only constant in her life was, well, herself. she’ll be okay, but her pen will be her saving grace.

[miniwheat77]

Addict. (Nympho!Reader x König.)

!CW! NSFW, Smut, reader is a nympho, slight switch!König, unprotected sex, p in v sex, MINORS DNI YOU’VE BEEN WARNED. PROCEED WITH CAUTION.

Summary: Nymphomaniac!Reader who has been unable to control her sexual urges, deciding to join the military with the hopes that the battlefield will calm her desire. Only to be put on the same base as König. *not edited*

“Y/N…”

Their words cut through you like a knife, it’s not something you ever thought you would hear. Your knee bounces uncontrollably. Just as it did in the doctors office that day.

Your gloved hands squeezed each other a little too hard.

“We think that you have something else going on.”

“What do you mean?”

Your innocent, 18 year-old self said, unaware of what awaited you.

“We think that.. the way you feel. The intense urges that you get, excessive desire. Everything you’ve described to us. We’re concerned that it may be Nymphomania.”

Your eyes widened, of course you’d heard of it before. “But I’ve never even had sex? How is that possible?”

“It doesn’t have to be physical. It’s excessive sexual desire, you told us you think about sex 24/7, concerned that it may be a sex hormone off in your body. But your hormones are fine. This is the only other explanation.” He tries to explain to you. You don’t want to hear it. “I’ve written you a referral to a therapist that deals with this kind’ve thing. I think that you should start seeing her regularly. So that you can keep this under control.”

You nodded your head, taking the note from his hands. As you left the office that day, you were nervous that everyone was looking at you.

Your doctor couldn’t have been more wrong. Because it wasn’t too long after that when you spiraled right out of control.

Your knee bounced relentlessly as you sat across from a couple of the other new recruits. Your hands were sweating profusely. You hoped that this would help. Prayed that it would bring you out of it. You thought maybe if you spent all of your time on the battlefield, fighting for your life, maybe it would go away. Maybe the urges would go away.

You had no idea what, or who, awaited you at your new base.

The helicopter came to a stop, and everyone inside awaited orders. Hearing a loud accented voice pierce through the radio. Right down to your core. You took in a deep breath, clenching your legs together.

Please let this work.

The ramp slowly began to lower and you awaited orders. “Alright, everyone off.” You all stood up, filing off of the helicopter. Your legs were already jello from the ride, but were even worse with the heat pooling between them. “Alright. Everyone, this is your new Colonel. This is his base, you’ll listen and take orders from him now.” You heard the man who’d brought you hear announce.

“His name is König.”

You looked up, eyes starting at his boots. Trailing up his body. You swallowed hard, his height never ending.

He’s huge, tall, massive. His hands are big, you can tell even through the gloves he had on, his hood left little to the eyes of his face, except for his piercing eyes. “Nice to meet you all.” He’s the one with the accent. You actually gulp.

You were fucked. Royally and not in a good way, fucked.

—

You avoided your Colonel like he was the plague. He was able to introduce himself to everyone, except for you. He caught on pretty quickly that you were avoiding him, for what reason? He had no idea. Maybe you were nervous, maybe he intimidated you. He had no idea. So he decided to put the both of you up in the watch tower for a couple hours. He thought maybe if you got to know him, your ways would change. Maybe you would be more comfortable around him.

He was up there first. Standing with his back to the door. He was mixing his cup of coffee, the coffee pot in the watch tower being the best idea a new recruit had had yet. You walked through the door and your eyes went wide, freezing right where you stood. He turned around upon hearing the door open, smiling even though you couldn’t see it. “Hi, Kaffee?” He says. He is so kind. Your brain thinks at a mile a minute. “Uh.. Hey. No thank you Colonel.” You nod. Closing the door behind you. For the next couple of hours, you were stuck. Stuck in this god forsaken watch tower with the most tempting human being you’ve met this far.

You sit in the chair furthest away from him, and he notices it. He moves a little closer to you, and watches you visibly swallow hard. “Do I scare you, Häschen?” He asks. Standing up and sitting next to you. He sees the visible confusion on your face. Unsure of what he’s just called you. “Sorry, Bunny. It means Bunny.” He laughs. “N-no. You don’t scare me. I’m just a little awkward because everything is new here.” You swallow hard. You can feel something building in your lower stomach. You’ve never felt this before, unsure of what it is. It feels familiar, but how?

“Oh. There’s nothing to be worried about. My men will welcome you with open arms, me too.” He says, reaching his hand out. He place it in your thigh, and you let out a silent hiss. It’s been months since a man had touched you, and you’d done so good. You want to fall apart. Force the massive man back and ride his cock until neither of you can breathe, but you made a promise to yourself. “Are you feeling okay? You seem pale.” He squeezes your thigh lightly. Right there is where you’re done. You clench your eyes closed, the knot thats formed in your stomach, wound up so tight. It snaps, and an orgasm pulses through you. Your eyes widen and you jump up. “S-sorry. I don’t feel well.” You mumble. He stands up too. “That’s okay. You can go rest up, I’ve got this. Just relax häschen, get some rest.” He mumbles.

Sometimes new recruits had a harder time adjusting, that’s what he assumed was going on.

Later that night, he decides to take a look into your file. There’s not too much information, other than a diagnosis he found buried within the papers. All of that time you spent training well. Building up your file to look good, being the perfect soldier. It was all to hide that one paper.

And your new Colonel had just come across it. His eyes widened as he read across the page. It was an explanation for everything. Your actions, the way you avoided him. But you only seemed to fuel the burning fire inside of himself. He was usually good at controlling himself, but he’d also not been around women in ages, the last time he’d been with one had been a few years back. His track record wasn’t always the best either. Becoming someone so high up in the military really helped with his image and helped him stay on track, he knows that’s probably what you were doing too.

He can’t seem to stop his feet as they carry him to your room. He’s got the paper in hand. He knocks at your door and you open it up. “We need to talk, Häschen.” His a voice is deeper than usual, stern. You step back, allowing him inside. You see the paper in his hands and look in confusion. Wondering what this was about. “Yes sir. Is something w-wrong?” You sit on the edge of your bed, hands fidgeting nervously. “so ein ungezogenes Mädchen.” He shakes his head. You don’t understand him. “I’m sorry?”

“Found this in your file.” He passes the paper to you. You swallow hard as you read across the page. “I…” you stutter. He closes the door behind himself. “Maybe this is something you should talk with your Colonel about before settling in too much.” He mumbles. “I- I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I just.. I wanted to be normal.” The tears start streaming down your face and he almost feels bad for coming at you from the left field like this. Unbeknownst to you he was here to help, like a good Colonel would. “I thought that this would help, but it only made it worse. I’ll understand if you want me off of your base, I can pack my stuff.” You sniffle. Wiping your eyes with the sleeve of your long sleeve shirt. Hearing him laugh. You look up at him in confusion. He moves closer to you, kneeling down until his face is level with yours. Cupping your chin with his gloved hand. Wiping your tears with his thumb. “Liebling.” His voice is soft. “I’m not here to kick you off my base.” He laughs. “I’m here to help you.” He breathes. “Y-you are?” You sniffle again. “Mhm. I’ve got an idea, maybe something that will help.” He lifts your chin to look at him. “Only if you’re up for it, Süßes Mädchen.” He smiles.

He can see you melting into his touch. “Okay.” You nod.

He reached for his belt, seeing your eyes widen. “Wait- I’ve been clean. I haven’t done anything.” You shake your head. “You trust me?” He asks. Lifting your chin again. You nod your head. “We can get you addicted to me. You’ll be a good soldier and follow my orders, okay?” You nod your head. “From now on, you’re only allowed to be with me.” He forces your face up to look at him.

“Verstehst du?” You nod your head, you’ve heard that one before.

“Good girl.”

He continues to work at his belt. His large, gloved hands tugging his cock from its restraint. He’s massive.

The biggest you’ve seen. Nervousness flows through you. “Lay back.” He nods. You listen to him immediately. Obeying him without a complaint. He tugs your pants down your legs, exposing you to him completely. Hearing him groan at the sight of you. He moves himself on top of you. “I’ll make you think only of me. Nur von mir.” He growls. He presses himself at your entrance, and your eyes widen, staring up at him. You’re done for.

When he pushes inside, you fall apart. A moan leaving your lips, he clamps a hand over your mouth, laughing. “Relax.” He chuckles. “I’m sorry- I can’t.” You gasp.

“It’s okay.” He breathe, pushing deeper into you, seeing your eyes twitch as they roll back. You’re feeling so good. “Why did you leave in such a rush?” He asks.

Your voice is unsteady as he rocks his hips into yours, letting you get used to his massive size. “I.. your hand on my thigh. It felt too good, I couldn’t control myself.” You moan. “So ein böses Mädchen.” He mumbles. “Come on. Put these on.” He groans as he slides out of you, hearing you whine at the loss of him. “W-what?”

“We’re going somewhere no one can hear us.” He breathes. Zipping his jeans. You quickly put on your pajama pants again, following him down the hallway quickly. You’re much shorter than the massive man, trying to keep up with him. You speedwalk after him, his normal pace seeming hard to keep up with. He leads you out to a Humvee, making sure it’s a blind spot before opening the door for you. The cameras don’t need to see what he’s about to do to you.

“Here?” You ask, nervously. “Yes. Climb in.” He nods. You nod your head, not willing to disobey your Colonel. You’ve seen him angry.

He stares at your ass as you climb into the back seat of the humvee, and you wait on the seat. He climbs in after you, hunched over to avoid hitting his head as he reaches behind himself to shut the door. You can’t help but giggle at him. He’s too tall for the massive car even. “Something funny?” He rolls his eyes. “No sir.” You mumble. He moves himself between the two seats. “Thought so. Now get over here.” He nods to his lap. You quickly pull your pants back off once again. Moving yourself into his lap. He’s already got his cock out once again. Helping hold you up as you lower yourself into him. Your body shivers as you feel him seeping into your begging opening. He’s so big.

You whine out as he stretches you, more than you’ve ever taken before. You cry out when you rest yourself on him completely, feeling so full of him. You give yourself a minute to rest. Despite how much you’ve done this, you knew when to give your body time to adjust. It’s like the time bomb in your stomach starts ticking. That high that you’ve chased for so long is right at the end of this. You start to rock your hips back and fourth, feeling him gliding through your folds. You’re slick already, soaking wet for him. You moan out, resting you hands on his toned chest. Hearing him start to pant as you move against him.

The countdown starts, that same one in your subconscious, ready to fly back to that sub space you’re all too familiar with. You’ve missed this, missed that high. The more you move against him, feeling every inch of him, the louder you’re getting. He’s breathing hard as you start to fuck yourself on his cock, bouncing up and down onto him. He can’t help himself. He holds himself back from thrusting up into you, clutching hard at the seat. He finally lets himself rest, laying back. He grasps the hem of your shirt, pulling it up your torso and over your head, revealing all of you to him.

If someone told him a few hours ago, up in that watch tower that in a few short hours you’d be bouncing on his cock, he’d call them a liar.

He groans slightly, a gasp catching in his throat. You’re wet, he can see the ring of your arousal forming at the base of his cock. “F-fuck. Yes.” He breathes.

“Yes- yes Liebling. Yes! Use me.” He gasps.

You look down at him, and he can see the devil igniting in your eyes, he was done for.

His thighs are sticky from your arousal, absolutely drenching him. His skin sticks to yours with each rise of your hips, the squelch from his cock slipping into your soaked pussy is lewd. The muscles in his stomach contract, you’re reeling him in. He’ll be addicted to you too soon enough. “F-fuck. Du bist so gut, bitte benutze mich.” he cries. Eyes getting watery as you ride him. He starts to mumble more in German, you can’t understand it but he’s chanting something. He’s getting close. “Can’t take it.” He gasps. Wrapping his arms around your waist, thrusting up into you. His pace is rough, his skin meets yours with a loud slapping sound, his brutal thrusts working you closer and closer to pure bliss.

It’s right there. So close.

Your body shakes as you cum. It’s unexpected and so soon, feeling his cock twitch as he keeps his steady pace. Your thighs shiver violently on him, he finally lets out one last cry, your eyes widening as you feel him emptying himself inside of you. Filling you up completely. He lets his head fall back, panting hard as you stay on him. You rest your face onto the seat, skin flushed red and sweaty. It’s the first time you’ve ever been satisfied with just one round.

Your legs rest as you allow yourself to relax over him, keeping his big cock nestled inside of you. It’s a lot, it’s no wonder you didn’t last.

He looks up at you, eyes gleaming from the moonlight and you can’t help but blush. This feeling you feel, it’s different.

You stay there for a few minutes, cockwarming him. When you finally raise your hips up, you can’t help but smile at the gasp he lets out. “Fuck-“ he growls. The loss of you clenching around him makes him feel cold. You redress yourself, taking the waddle of shame back to your room so that you can clean yourself. König lagging behind a bit to see the way you flinch. He can’t help but laugh. Once you’re both cleaned up, you’re sitting on your bed again.

Something is different, almost contentment. You don’t feel the urge to jump his bones as he sits in front of you. Sure, that ache will come back. That arousal for him, will surely be back.

But it’s a nice break, to be soothed into normality. Something you’ve never felt before. Maybe somehow, your new Colonel would be your saving grace. You’d just have to find out in the morning.

Exactly how much of him would you need to feel completely normal?

[fanficsdumpomg]

Hi! I really liked your NSFW headcanons for the brozone bros. I was wondering if I could request something for Clay and/or Floyd with a reader who's a lot younger than they thought. Like they're in their 30's at least and reader is 23/24. Reader is very mature and put together, so they thought reader was their age, if not older. Really how they would react, if they would tease about it, anything like that. Can be sfw and/or nsfw both are great. And if you're uncomfortable writing this, maybe just boyfriend headcanons for either of them too would be just fine. Thank you <3

Clay:

*(I headcanon Clay was around 16 when Brozone broke up and present time is 15+ years later so i would imagine he would be 36 during the time of Band Together; i headcanon there's an age difference of 10 years between the two of you)

*Clay and you had been dating for a while after meeting each other at Putt-Putt village. You both had met each other while working for Viva; you as an inventor of defense items and clay working administrative duties.

*Clay is already a strict dom in bed; loves to control your orgasms, tie you up, punish you, etc. Basically he loves having any ounce of sexual control over you.

*So, when Clay overhears some Putt-Putt Trolls talk about how someone so young as you could be so talented, his brain first goes into shock; how could he not know this about his partner? But then his brain goes into overdrive and he starts to feel hot thinking of all the ways he could use this against you in bed; so he plans.

*Clay plans a romantic evening for the two of you that ends in passionate kisses, fangs marking each other’s neck and chests and you tied against the bed you share.

*Clay spends the night teasing you in the most deliciously way possible, edging you with a vibrator until you begged to come, gagging you with a ball gag when you get too loud, and breeding you.

*”Dirty Baby…Look at how wet you get for an old man…..god you’re such a slut”.

_____________________________________________________________

Floyd:

(I head canon clay was 13/14 when Brozone broke up and in Band Together i imagine he would be around 33/34 with a 10 year age gap between you too.)

*Floyd and you had been dating for awhile after the two of you met while you opened for one of his solo shows.

*Floyd is a big, big crybaby switch in bed. Loves to get bitten, teased and manhandled by you; (please throw him around he is begging you). 

*He usually doesn’t like to be degraded or degrade you but that all changes after he hears an advertisement for your band; advertising you as the hottest young talent to come to the stage. He feels a  rush of emotions after learning you're younger than him, first embarrassment because how could he not know  this about his partner, then shame… is he a dirty old pervert?!

*Then the shame in a weird way turns him on and you very quickly pick up on it during heated moments between the two of you. After some planning on your part you plan a special intimate evening for the two of you.

*You tie him up during the session, pull his hair, bite him and tease him; but what really surprises him is when you start with the degradation; your refuse to touch him unless he admits that he is a dirty perverted old man. The humiliation/Shame of your degradation immediately turns him rock-hard.

“Fuuuck…yes…I am a dirty old man… please fuck me..do anything!”.

[redroomreflections]

The First Mistake

Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader

The Loud House Universe

Summary: Natasha and R are being intimate when Natasha needs a moment.

Warning: Mentions of SA

Note: I took an idea from earlier and went with it. I don't think we've seen that many vulnerable moments like this from them.

It’s something about the way you touch her tonight. The way your fingertips glide across her skin sends shivers down her spine. Something in the way your lips brush against hers, slow and deliberate, feels different. Natasha always enjoys her time with you—she’s told you as much, even in her own guarded way. You’re always so gentle and loving, treating her with a care she’s rarely known.

But tonight, something shifts.

As your hand trails up her arm, fingers tracing the lines of old scars, a cold memory creeps into the moment's warmth. It’s a touch she hasn’t felt in years, one that pulls her back to a time when gentle wasn’t gentle at all. Her breath hitches, almost imperceptibly, but you notice. You always notice.

Your lips press softly to her neck, a place that’s been kissed before, but this time, something feels off. A chill runs down her spine, and suddenly, she’s not here with you anymore. She’s back in the Red Room, surrounded by faces that wore masks of kindness but held nothing but cruelty.

She stiffens beneath your touch, a reaction you’ve never felt from her before. It’s subtle but unmistakable. You pause, pulling back just enough to look into her eyes.

"Are you okay, baby?" You question, your hands pausing along the sides of her body.

"I'm fine," Natasha's voice is a little strained. "It's nothing."

She leans forward, kissing you and hoping to distract you from this moment. But your hand stills her face, holding her at a distance. You can see the conflict swirling in her eyes, the tension in her jaw, and it makes your heartache.

"What's wrong, Tasha?" you question, your voice gentle, but laced with concern.

For a brief moment, frustration flickers across her features, a flash of vulnerability that she quickly buries. Then, like a switch has been flipped, Natasha is back in control. Her eyes sharpen, and there's a sudden intensity in her gaze that wasn't there a moment ago.

Without warning, she moves, fluid and precise, flipping the two of you over so that she's on top. The shift is almost startling, her movements more bold, almost predatory, like a cat toying with its prey. She smirks down at you, but it doesn’t quite reach her eyes.

"I thought I told you," her voice is low, seductive. "I'm fine."

She kisses you again, hard and possessive, her tongue pressing into your mouth. There's an edge to it, an undercurrent of something dark and dangerous. She leans in, her lips brushing against yours, but there’s a different energy behind it now. The tenderness from earlier has been replaced with something more intense, almost desperate. She’s trying to take control of the situation, to push away whatever it was that triggered her, but you can sense the tension in her.

Her touch is firmer as if she’s trying to anchor herself in the present by drowning out the past. You can feel the shift in her demeanor, the way she’s almost forcing herself to be bold, to play the part of the unshakable Black Widow. But you know her too well to be fooled by the facade.

You reach up, gently placing a hand on her cheek, guiding her to meet your gaze. The smirk falters, and for a moment, the mask slips. There’s a flash of something raw in her eyes—fear, maybe, or pain—before she quickly buries it again.

"You don't have to do this, Natasha," You say softly. "It's just us."

Instead of relenting and possibly changing the tune, she fights.

"Do you not want to do this?" She questions.

You frown. "You know I always want to do this with you, Natasha. You are the only person I want to do this with, and it is because I love you. But if you're not comfortable or not into it, then we don't have to."

You drop your hands onto the bed, hoping to give her enough room. An out. Her breath catches at your words, the tension in her body wavering. She hesitates, the confident act she’s putting on starting to crumble under your steady, caring gaze. The intensity in her eyes fades, replaced by something more vulnerable, more real.

"I have to go," She says suddenly.

Without waiting for a response, Natasha quickly gets off the bed, grabbing her clothes in a hurried motion. You watch her, confusion and worry knotting in your chest as she fumbles with her shirt, her movements rushed and unsteady. She doesn’t look at you, her focus entirely on getting dressed, as if putting on her clothes will somehow shield her from whatever she’s feeling.

"What? Tash, you’re supposed to be staying the night—it’s late," you say, rushing to her side. Sometimes she’s a little too quick for your liking, slipping away before you can catch up.

In your haste, you reach for her arm, your grip firm but gentle, nothing she can’t easily pull away from. The contact is meant to ground her, to keep her from running off, but instead, it catches her off guard.

Natasha freezes, her eyes widening slightly as your hand closes around her arm. It’s not the strength of your grip that surprises her—she could break free without even thinking—but the unexpectedness of it, the suddenness of being held in place. For a moment, she’s back in the Red Room, the sensation of being restrained, of losing control, flooding her mind.

She tries to hide the flash of surprise that crosses her face, but her instincts kick in before she can stop them. She backs away, retreating into the door behind her with a soft thud. Her breath catches, her heart pounding in her chest as she fights the urge to lash out, to defend herself against a threat that isn’t there.

But then she sees your eyes—wide with concern, not fear—and she remembers where she is, who she’s with. She forces herself to relax, her hands trembling slightly as she presses them against the door, trying to steady herself.

"I’m sorry… I just… I can’t…" She says her voice just above a whisper.

"Tash, what's going on?" you question, concern etched into your features. "Talk to me. Please."

As you watch Natasha press herself against the door, her shoulders trembling slightly, a pang of worry stabs at your heart. You’ve seen her in countless situations—calm under pressure, fierce in battle, even a little shy in quiet moments—but you’ve never seen her like this. The fear in her eyes, the way she’s trying so hard to hold herself together, it’s like nothing you’ve ever witnessed before.

She looks… scared. Truly scared. And it terrifies you.

Natasha’s always been the strong one, the unshakeable one, the one who’s been through hell and back and somehow still stands tall. But right now, she looks so small, so vulnerable, and it’s breaking your heart. You’ve always known there were pieces of her past she kept locked away, parts of herself she wasn’t ready to share, and you’ve respected that. That’s why you moved slowly, carefully, in your relationship—because you knew it hadn’t been easy for her to trust, to open up.

But this? This is different. This isn’t just Natasha being cautious or guarded; this is her fighting something deep inside, something you can’t see but can feel in the way she’s trying to retreat, to put up walls that you thought were long gone.

You’ve always been patient with her, never pushing too hard, never asking for more than she was willing to give. But seeing her like this, so hard up, so desperate to keep it together, makes you realize just how much she’s still carrying, how much she’s still afraid to let go of.

You want to reach out to her, to pull her into your arms and tell her it’s okay, that she doesn’t have to be afraid, not with you. But you know that right now, she needs space—needs to find her footing before she can let you in. So you take a step back, even though every instinct screams at you to do the opposite, to close the distance between you and make it all better.

But you can’t fix this. Not with words, not with touch. Not right now.

You swallow the lump in your throat, trying to keep your voice steady. "I'm going to go and sit on the couch. Just over there," You gesture with your thumbs. "I will sit on one end and you can sit on the other. If you'd like. I really want you to stay. I don't...I don't want you going out when you're like this. So please if you want to." Your voice trails off. You're unsure of what to say. You give her one final look before you back away towards the couch. You take a seat and listen. For a few moments, Natasha doesn't move behind you. She doesn't speak. You're almost positive she's snuck out undetected when you see a slight flash of red in your peripheral. You turn your head to see her sitting curled up on one end of the sofa, her eyes trained forward, her jaw tightly clenched.

The two of you sit in silence, the only sound in the room coming from the faint ticking of the clock on the wall. It feels like an eternity, the tension between you thick enough to cut with a knife, until finally, Natasha speaks.

"I'm sorry," She whispers.

"For what?"

"Running away."

"You don't need to be sorry," You shake your head. "I just want to make sure you're okay."

"I'm fine." She replies a bit too quickly.

"If you're sure." You nod, even though she isn't.

Another pause.

"You don't have to tell me, Nat," You continue. "If it's too much or too painful. I don't need to know."

"I—" She pauses. "I'm scared. Afraid." Green eyes flash over to you.

"Of what?" You ask softly.

"Of losing you," She frowns.

"Natasha," You shake your head, "nothing will make me leave."

"You can't say that. You don't know."

"Try me."

"I like sex," She begins firmly. "I love everything we do together. I've just been stressed. It happens sometimes. After a long mission or...things get hard." She tries to find the right words to say.

"What's bothering you, Tash?" You question, tilting your head.

"You know that I don't talk about my past. Not often." She takes a deep breath. "When we started our relationship, it was new, exciting, and it was all so fast. Usually, when I do this with someone it isn't so deep. Surface level really."

"That's okay, Tasha. We all have our own way of dealing with things."

"I know," Natasha nods. "And it's been different with you. The way I feel about you, the way I want to be with you..." She rubs her fingers soothingly along her wrist. "In the Red Room, we learned that sex is a tool. It's not for pleasure."

You frown, unsure of where the conversation is going.

"When I was a teenager, they would put me in rooms. One room had men. Another women. And then one room had both. And I was told to do whatever it took to please them. If I did a good job, I got a reward." She sighs. "I got the best food, the cleanest rooms, the most time outside."

You try to hide your shocked reaction.

"I excelled at everything I did and that was something I needed to excel in," Natasha says bitterly. "The first time was...it was rough. Not because he wasn't gentle or because he hurt me. I just...I didn't know anything. Sure, there was gossip from the other girls from time to time but I never listened to it."

You can tell she's holding something back.

"When I met him, he was older, experienced. He showed me things I didn't even know were possible. When I was with him, it was always an out-of-body experience," She explains. "I mostly just, um, would lay there."

"Okay," You nod, encouraging her to go on.

"I mostly blocked it out," Natasha raises her eyes. "I can push forward. I can pretend. I can be the Black Widow but I don't want to do that with you." She sighs. "Because I've been through hell and back. I've had every single bad thing that can happen to a woman happen to me and I just want something nice. Something soft and good. I don't want to be a victim."

"Baby," You shake your head, "you're not a victim. You've had a rough life. You've been through things. That's okay. You don't have to pretend to be someone else with me."

"When you touched me," Natasha says. "I don't know why but this time I couldn't remind myself it was you. I couldn't focus on us and what we have."

"We don't have to do anything you don't want to do. Ever. I will never force you to do something you don't want to do." You say, hoping she can see the sincerity in your gaze.

"I know," She shrugs. "I know that. I know that."

"Do you want to come over here?" You pat the spot next to you.

She hesitates but then before you know it she's in your arms and her face is pushed into your neck.

"I'm sorry," She mumbles.

"Don't apologize. Never apologize. I will always love you." You squeeze her tighter. "If there is something I do that is harmful to you I want to know. I want to keep you safe."

"It's not you," Natasha murmurs. "I just..."

"You're a little traumatized."

"Yeah," She agrees. "Just a little."

"Can I do anything to help you?" You ask.

"You already have," She leans back and smiles at you. "You're always here. When I need you. When I need to be held or cuddled or fucked." She giggles, causing a laugh to escape your lips. "I don't want that part of our relationship to stop because of what happened tonight."

"I would never do that. But I would slow down and maybe not, you know," You trail off. "Do things that might remind you of that part of your life."

"No," Natasha shakes her head. "I like sex. With you. A lot. And I'm not giving it up just because I had a weird moment. You make me feel good. Like a normal person. So don't you dare stop doing things because you're worried about me?"

"Alright," You sigh, relenting.

"Besides, I've got the best psychiatrist and the best girlfriend," Natasha grins. "So I think I'll be okay."

"Okay," You return her smile, gently pressing a kiss to her lips. "I love you, Nat."

"I love you too."

"I'm not letting you go, you know?"

"I know."

"I can be the big spoon," You smirk.

"You are," Natasha rolls her eyes. "Just hold me."

"Forever," You promise her.

[crispywaffles2]

Hello 👋 I hope you are having a wonderful day or night! May I request a Macaque x reader oneshot? Were both are having like flirt contest or sm like that, and they try act all smug and confident, but in reality, they're very flustered with each other? Thank you <<3

Hi!!! Of course I can, and thank you so much for requesting! I'm sorry for how long this took!

First to Fall (Macaque x Reader)

Macaque leans against the tattered cushions of the old couch he stole for his dojo/residence a while ago, throwing his head back as he howls with laughter. He places one hand on his forehead, the other cradling his sore stomach while he cackles at his companions misfortune.

"It is not funny! Stop laughing!" your frantic and embarrassed protests ironically fall on deaf ears, however.

Just minutes earlier the two of you were playing a fun game you had suggested, A Hat in Time, on your Switch. Everything was fun and lighthearted at first; the two of you laughing at the zany situations and lightly poking fun at the others playing style. But everything went downhill when you made it to Subcon Forest.You had jokingly made a comment about how Snatcher, the antagonist of the level, looked eerily similar to the simian beside you, to which Macaque took great offence.

To get you to answer for your crimes, he willed the lights to flicker. That alone was enough to get you a bit on edge. After that the lights turned off, and you could feel or see him beside you anymore.Just before you could delve into a panic, the lights suddenly turned on and Macaque loomed over you from the shadows.

"Boo."

And that lead you to now; the demon struggling to catch his breath as he wheezes at your dispense and you looking angry and utterly embarrassed.

"I'm sorry-! But the look on your face!" he takes a deep, shaky breath, forcing himself not to break out laughing again as he leans forward with a small breath of relief.

"Ahh... you are so cute when you pout like that," the demon hums teasingly, thick eyebrows arched in amusement as he gazes at you through half lidded eyes.

The way your eyes widen at his sudden change in tone is something that can't be controlled, but you are not one to be bested twice. Through sheer will, you force your cheeks not to warm up and give him a steely glare. Two can play at this game. Your grumpy frown melts into a suave smirk, mimicking your companion's.

"I only did it to make you smile. I love the way your face lights up when you laugh." and it wasn't exactly a lie. You really did love seeing his sharp pearly whites when he smiled, even if it was in the smug or condescending manner he usually did. And the sound of his deep, rich cackles stirred something deep within you, something that made your knees go weak.

Macaque doesn't seem to sense the faint undertones of sincerity in your tone (thank goodness), and takes this as a challenge.

He never thought he'd see the day that little old you would challenge someone as naturally suave and charming as him to s flirting battle, but he wasn't complaining.

"You're talking about my laugh? I have yet to hear a giggle as cute as yours." Once again, it takes everything in you not to burst out stammering.

You weren't some pushover, and you weren't going to stand for Macaque scaring you even if his words send jolts of electricity through your body and he was so damn hot when he lowered his voice like that-

You huff and roll your eyes. "Macaque please. We both know that you're the finest thing in this room," you speak as if it's common knowledge, and for some reason that makes Macaque pause.

As confident as the simian is, he doesn't get many compliments. Usually things along the lines of 'conniving' or 'sneaky' are used to describe him. But fine? Oh, you had no idea what you made him feel with that one.

"Oh, I beg to differ doll-" he begins, only to get cut off by a snarky guffaw.

"I beg to differ, handsome." you give him a hard, stone cold stare. This was your chance to let out all of the things you've been feeling for him for who knows how long without being questioned. He wouldn't know you were being serious. Why not just pour it all out now while you have the chance?

"Your smile has got to be one of the most charming things I've ever seen, and don't even get me started on your eyes. Those two things alone could sweep some poor lady off of her feet. And your voice- I could go on for hours about your voice. It's so deep and- and relaxing- you should totally do a podcast or something because it'd have me out like a light in just a few minutes. And that thing you do where you run your fingers through your hair when you think something is funny makes me want to-"

You abruptly cut yourself off, slapping a hand over your mouth. You basically almost confessed. You'd cut yourself off, but the intentions were clear. Your blush spreads so far and fast it reaches the tips of your ears. It was just fun and innocent flirting until you went and ruined it by being genuine and passionate like an idiot.

You slowly look up, eyes wide with embarrassment and fear as you prepare yourself for that harsh and demeaning laugh that he gives everyone when he thinks they're stupid. But it never comes. Instead, what you see when you lift your eyes, is a red faced simian trying to cover up his face with his scarf while looking away from you. But the flush on his ears couldn't be denied, and neither could the smile playing at his lips.

".. you really meant that didn't you?" he asks shakily, making you immediately try to backpedal.

He wasn't making eye contact with you anymore. That had to be a bad sign. But before you could open your mouth and begin letting a waterfall of apologies cascade out, a small snicker can be heard. It was Macaque, obviously. He tries covering his mouth, but the laughter seeps through. Except this laughter wasn't mocking or mean. The six eared Macaque was sitting on your couch, letting out almost comically giddy giggles.

He might as well have been twirling his hair and kicking his feet too. Surprised by this unexpected reaction, you slowly begin laughing along. His laughter still had that deep, rich twang to it, but now it was filled with a lightness that made you feel.. all kinds of different things. Macaque quickly gets his act together, clearing his throat and straightening up with embarrassment.

"I... guess we have our winner huh?" he asks in a slightly awkward tone, looking as though he was holding himself back from something. You're quick to speak up before you can get cut off again.

"Macaque I'm so sorry- I just got carried away and I don't- I poured my heart out like that by accident!" you stammer, hoping what you're saying is at least a bit intelligible.

Macaque puts his hand on your shoulder, giving it a reassuring squeeze.

"It's okay dude, I'm not mad or anything.. in fact..." he leans forward and presses a gentle kiss against your cheek, causing you to freeze up and go completely red.

"now I have more things to tease you with," he cackles, pulling away before you could land any sort of hit on him.

He sinks into one of his shadow portals, making you frown, before he reemerges in the kitchen. You knew what this was about. If you wanted revenge you'd have to work for it. You shoot up from the couch, running around his dojo like a headless chicken trying to catch your dark furred friend. Er... partner? A kiss on the cheek wasn't exactly platonic, but he never said he wanted to be more than friends either.

You decide not to think too hard about it, focusing on finding Macaque instead. And when you finally do manage to tackle the monkey, it's obvious it's only because he let you. And to enact your revenge, you begin peppering kisses all over his stupid, smug face. Macaque lets out another round of that giddy laughter, and then brushes his lips against yours before disappearing.

You chase him around the apartment again. And so the cycle continues.

[xcherryerim]

Attraction is out of our control

Porn Actor!Billy x Gn!Reader | wc: 3.8k

“I can see by the way that you switch and walk. I can tell by the way that you treat your man, but I could love you, baby, it's a cryin' shame.” — I Just Want To Make Love To You by Foghat

SMUT ONE SHOT | MDNI | +18

WARMING: Sexual tension | corruption kink | light mentions of religious and social guilt | Voyeurism (Reader sees Billy having sex with someone) | Smoking | Choking | oral sex to reader | penetration | Spanking | reader is supposed to be a bit inexperienced | Reader cheating on their partner | “Sweetheart, honey” are used here. | Porn with plot | Not proofread

Notes: Inspired by the movie X. Added a part of the movie script as well. (also sorry it took so long, i just don’t feel like writing anymore but i still wanted to give you guys this <3) Sorry for any reasons here!

Backstory: You and your partner have spent years working on various short films, with them handling camera work and you focusing on audio production. Recently, however, an enticing offer has come your way, forcing both of you to take on recording an adult film. While filming, a captivating actor has caught your eye, and his presence has stirred up feelings you never knew existed.

As you browse the aisles of the gas station, weighing your options for a snack or drink, your attention is caught by the sight of the jean-jacketed man stealthily slipping an item into his pocket without paying for it. His hand was quick and deft, leaving no trace of his illicit actions for anyone who wasn't observing.

Your heart began to race as he finally looked up, his eerie, honey-like eyes piercing through you. With a devilish smirk, he brought his index finger to his lips, silently demanding you to remain discreet.

Palms began to sweat as you felt the weight of the situation settle upon your shoulders. You quickly darted across the store, making your way over to your partner, who seemed oblivious about the whole thing.

"You didn't tell me we were going to film an actual adult movie," You whispered to your partner, your fingers digging into their arm in panic as you spoke.

They rolled their eyes, exasperation evident on their face. "It's just some quick money, babe. We've got to start somewhere." Their tone held a hint of bitterness and judgment as if they were disappointed in your hesitation.

“Since when are you such a prude?”

"I'm not... it's just weird, that's all. Besides, I don't trust them," you countered, your gaze shifting towards the actors, landing particularly on Billy. There was something about him that rubbed you the wrong way, and you couldn't shake off the feeling that he was up to no good.

Your partner sighed, squeezing your hand reassuringly before attempting to calm your nerves. “We’ll be fine. I’ll take care of filming and you take care of the audio, like always.”

…

The journey to the guest house, rented from an elderly couple who ran a quaint farm, was filled with an uncomfortable silence. Each member of the crew focused intently on the scripts handed to them, trying to memorize their lines and prepare for the scenes ahead.

You couldn't help but notice that Billy's eyes were lingering on you, his eyebrows furrowed in a way that made it difficult to decipher his emotions.

Desperate to escape the oppressive atmosphere, you gazed out the window, trying to find solace in the passing scenery. Time seemed to stretch on and on, and all you wanted was for this ordeal to be over.

The idea of being involved in such a forbidden industry weighed heavily on your conscience, and the lingering guilt from your old religious upbringing only compounded the discomfort.

A desperate groan escaped your lips, and then you glanced at the blonde actress in the van, diligently working through her copy of "Farmer's Daughter," the title visible in the small booklet she held.

You let out a small chuckle at the stupid title, and then the van finally came to a halt, signaling your arrival at the old couple's farmhouse. The nerves that had been simmering beneath the surface began to bubble to the top, and your anxiety grew as you and your partner started setting up everything needed for the shoot.

The gravity of what was about to happen pressed down on you like a heavyweight, its immorality and taboo nature overwhelming. You couldn't understand how your partner could be so uncaring about it all, but you knew you had to push forward.

Billy interrupted your sea of thoughts, his voice shaking you from your reverie as he beckoned you with a nod towards his hair. "Hey, can I get some help?" he asked, his eyes never leaving the script in his hand.

Reluctantly, you nodded and reached for the comb, your fingers trembling slightly as you approached him.

As you meticulously styled Billy's hair, you couldn't help but notice the details that made him stand out – his mesmerizing brown eyes, chiseled jawline, toned arms, and the way his jeans marked his thick thighs. It was hard not to admire the raw beauty of his form, even if it was on someone who wasn't your partner.

You tried to remind yourself that it was just an appreciation of human nature, not anything more, but the line between admiration and attraction felt dangerously thin.

While your mind wrestled with these conflicting emotions, Billy continued to peruse his script, seemingly oblivious to the turmoil within you. You wondered what went through his mind during this entire process, whether he felt any guilt or remorse for participating in such a provocative industry.

Billy abruptly rose from his chair, sauntering towards the blonde actress with a cocky manner. In a move that took you by surprise, he slapped her playfully on the ass and then pulled her into a passionate kiss that was both intimate and uncomfortably public. Your stomach dropped as you tried to decipher the meaning behind their gestures, questioning whether they were dating or merely preparing for their scene.

With a deep breath, you forced yourself to focus on the task at hand, reaching for the pencil mic with a trembling hand. Its weight seemed to grow heavier with each passing second, a physical manifestation of the emotional disturbance you were experiencing.

Positioning yourself strategically between the camera and the actors, you prepared yourself to capture every moment of the scene.

As your partner began filming, you watched as the flirtatious banter intensified. Torn between your guilt and the undeniable excitement building within you as the actors began to disrobe, revealing their bodies in a slow, seductive dance.

Your gaze lingered on Billy, his toned, lightly sweaty form glistening under the sunlight that filtered through the farmhouse windows. The guilt that had been gnawing at your conscience began to disappear and was now replaced by a strange sense of fascination and anticipation.

Billy's strong, rough hands moved effortlessly over the actress's hips, his kisses tracing a heated path along her body. The possessiveness in his touch was clear, a raw display of desire that was both unexpected and exhilarating.

As he continued to explore her form, you found your focus drawn lower and lower, his face disappearing between her thighs. Witnessing a level of intimacy that was both shocking and intoxicating, you couldn't help but wish you were in her place, experiencing the intensity of those passionate moments firsthand, rather than being a mere observer.

Your lips bit down in a nervous gesture, your skin prickling with a mix of embarrassment and arousal. The realization that you were feeling lustful thoughts toward a stranger weighed heavily on your conscience, but you couldn't tear your eyes away from the scene unfolding before you.

There was something undeniably addictive about it, especially as the sunlight casted a golden glow on Billy's toned, veiny arms, highlighting his strength as he held the actress tightly.

As Billy approached his climax, his moans grew louder and more intense, intertwining with the sounds of their bodies slapping against each other. The air was thick with the weight of raw passion, and you couldn't help but blush profusely under the heat of the moment.

Suddenly, you felt your heart drop as you swore you caught a glimpse of Billy stealing a glance in your direction, perhaps sensing your unabashed stare. The thought of being discovered in your lustful desires made your cheeks flush even redder, and you wondered if you had been too obvious in your fascination.

His mouth was slightly opened as he let out incoherent moans, his gaze soft as he looked over at you once again, making it seem like he was giving you an open invitation to be his next plaything.

Forcing yourself to focus on the task at hand, you moved closer to capture the final moments of the scene. Your hands shook as you adjusted the equipment, attempting to steady yourself amidst the lingering discomfort and the pulse of adrenaline that coursed through your veins.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the scene reached its conclusion, and the actors slipped back into character, their faces flushed and breathless.

With trembling hands, you managed to place the microphone securely out of the way before hastily retreating from the room, desperate for a moment of solitude and distance from the scene you had just witnessed.

Your legs carried you across the property until you stumbled upon a serene pond, surrounded by lush grass. Without a second thought, you collapsed onto the soft green carpet, your mind racing with a whirlwind of emotions.

You tried to rationalize the events that had just transpired, reminding yourself that it was all fiction, not borne of genuine love or connection. But the image of Billy's strong body moving with such raw intensity haunted your thoughts, his facial expressions, growls, and whimpers made ripples of desire through you despite the immorality of the situation. It was a confusing paradox, your mind oscillating between the thrill of the forbidden and the guilt that followed.

As you sat there, staring at the undulating surface of the water, you couldn't help but wonder about the motivations of those involved in the adult film industry.

Why would someone engage in such acts, knowing the potential consequences and societal stigma? And yet, you couldn't shake the memory of Billy's powerful gestures.

You reluctantly shifted your gaze from the tranquil waters to see Billy approaching you, a pack of cigarettes clutched in his hand. His presence was immediate and commanding, and you couldn't help but feel a pang of nervousness at his nearness.

"Oh, you're here," he remarked casually, his eyes sparkling with mischief as he offered you one of the cigarettes. You hesitated for a moment before shaking your head and inching further away, seeking some semblance of personal space.

Billy chuckled huskily, his lips curving into a smirk as he lit one of the cigarettes, the smoke weaving through the air like an ethereal veil. "You look like you've seen a ghost," he teased, casting a sidelong glance at your flustered appearance. "You're really are a prude, huh?"

Your cheeks burned in response, but you found the courage to address his lighthearted teasing. "I'm not," you retorted, defending yourself.

"I'm just... confused, that's all. I mean, what about love?"

“What about love?” He asked back. The question hung in the air between you, a poignant reminder of the dichotomy you were struggling to reconcile – the raw passion you had just witnessed mere minutes ago.

His eyes locked onto yours, the smoke from his cigarette curling lazily in the breeze as he considered your query.

‘Well, don't you all believe in it?" You asked, finally finding the courage to meet his gaze. Your eyes traced the lines of his body, towering above your own shaky, seated form. The contrast in your demeanors only serves to heighten your discomfort.

Billy's answer was nonchalant, his eyes lingering on your face as he spoke. "Of course, we believe in love," he said, his voice betraying a hint of bemusement.

"But how can you love someone and still be with other people?" You pressed on, your curiosity getting the better of you. The question was tinged with innocence and confusion.

“You think we don't have no morals or somethin', is that it?” Billy retorted, his voice tinged with a hint of irritation at your accusation.

He momentarily removed the cigarette from his lips, allowing the smoke to dissipate between his fingers. His gaze remained fixed on your earnest expression, assessing your intentions.

You stammered in response, unable to find the right words to defend your position. "No, no, I just..." Your voice trailed off, and before you could continue, Billy cut in, his tone softening as he sat down beside you.

"Take it from me, letting outdated traditions control how you live your life will get you nowhere." The change in his demeanor was subtle, but significant, as if he were imparting some wisdom from his own experiences.

"And besides," Billy continued, his voice growing softer still, "it's just sex. You can decide who you want to love, but not who you want to screw. Attraction is out of our control. It ain't healthy keeping those feelings locked away inside."

The logic in his words resonated with you, casting a new light on your internal struggle. As you pondered his words, you couldn't help but feel a pang of guilt for your lingering thoughts.

Despite your best efforts, your gaze drifted back to Billy, and you found yourself once again drawn to the memory of his naked form. The proximity of his body now only exacerbated the situation, and you began to feel a sense of discomfort that was both exhilarating and unsettling.

"So, are you going to keep those feelings locked inside you?"

You let out a startled gasp, feeling caught off guard by the directness of his question. The implications weighed heavily on your conscience, and you struggled to find a response that wouldn't betray your true feelings.

"Come on, saint," Billy said with a smirk, his eyes never leaving your figure. "I've seen the way you've looked at me the whole day."

With a bold gesture, he placed the cigarette between your lips, the warmth of his hand brushing against the rim of your mouth, then, he settled it on your thigh. The weight of his touch sent a shiver down your spine as he drew lazy circles with his thumb.

Was this his way of testing you, or was he simply playing with you? Whatever the reason might be, it was difficult not to give in. His words hung in the air, a challenge to confront your desires and the societal norms that had held sway over your thoughts for so long.

"Well," Billy said, plucking the cigarette from your lips, prompting a brief cough. He then stood up. "If you're up for some fun..."

His eyes flicked towards the nearby van, and without another word, he dangled the keys in front of you. "I'll be in the van, waiting for ya."

His absence left you alone, facing your turmoil. Your thoughts fought with each other, the line between what's appropriate and what you truly want becoming increasingly blurred with every passing moment.

Without hesitation, you found yourself sprinting after him, desperation driving you forward. "Wait, wait!" you called out, your voice echoing in the quiet surroundings.

As you caught up to him, you grasped his arm, your words tumbling out in a hurry. "Can we keep this a secret?"

Billy's smirk never faltered, the corner of his mouth twitching upwards as he met your gaze.

"Well, you kept a secret for me earlier, remember?" He countered, his eyes gleaming with mischief. The implication hung between you like a silent dare, his proximity now unavoidable.

Before you could respond, he closed the distance between you, his lips crashing into yours in a searing kiss. It was anything but gentle, a fierce collision of hunger and desire.

His hands wrapped around your waist, drawing you closer as if to emphasize the intensity of the moment.

You could feel his body vibrate with adrenaline, a testament to the raw emotion that had driven him to act. The tension between you reached a breaking point, and in that moment, it felt as though everything else faded away – the world, your doubts, and your fears – everything but the two of you.

In the aftermath of the kiss, you stood there, breathless. The air around you was electric, charged with the anticipation of what was to come. You knew that you had crossed a line, and there was no going back – the consequences, whatever they might be, would have to wait.

Billy led you to the van, guiding you inside as he pulled away from the farmhouse. The distance was enough to feel removed from reality, a small buffer between the life you knew and the one you were about to explore.

As he maneuvered the vehicle to a stop, he wasted no time in setting the scene, his hand beckoning you to follow him as he settled onto a nearby seat. You found yourself nestled against him, your body laid on top of him.

Billy’s hands wandered, his fingers digging into your hips, urging you to grind against him, your arousal growing in tandem with his. His lips trailed along your jawline, his breath hot and heavy against your ear as he whispered his appreciation for your body.

His hand crept under your shirt, cold fingers caressing your skin, his touch feather-light before growing rougher, leaving dark red marks. Billy’s breath came in harsh gasps, his hunger for you growing with each passing moment.

Without a warning, he picked you up with ease, the movement making his jean jacket mark his biceps. He proceeded to position you on the seat, spreading your legs so he could kneel between them. Hands desperately trying to remove your pants, eventually tossing them on the seat where your partner was seated mere hours ago. The guilt settles in your stomach.

How could you do this to them? Why are you listening to strangers' advice in the first place?

This was wrong, but the way he took one of your legs and rested it on his shoulder just to gain better access to you was arousing.

Billy took one last look at you, his pupils dilating at the sight of you above him before leaning in, his face disappearing between your thighs.

His skilled tongue teased the throbbing between your legs, taking his time, flickering, licking, and sucking before diving deeper, tasting you fully.

You gasped as Billy's tongue danced over your most intimate of places, waves of ecstasy surging through your being. Your mind was hazy with lust, and the guilt you'd felt just moments before began to dissipate. This felt right, and you couldn't deny the pleasure that came with it, with Billy.

Your fingers dug into the seat, gripping the fabric tightly as Billy's mouth worked its magic. The combination of pleasure and the knowledge of knowing this was wrong made your heart race, that unfamiliar sensation of forbidden desire taking hold.

You arched your back, your breathing growing more erratic, shaking as you cried out his name.

“Never been giving head like this before, sweetheart?” Billy teased, his voice breathy and deep.

"Never quite like this, no," you panted, holding onto the seat for dear life.

With a satisfied smirk, Billy looked up at you, his eyes gleaming with the same hunger that had fueled his actions. He stood, adjusting himself and unzipping his jeans, freeing his erection, thick and hard.

Your breath hitched as you watched his movements, the sudden urgency clear in his actions. His fingers trailed down your body, his touch firm and demanding as he positioned you for him.

"Ride me," Billy urged, guiding you onto his shaft, his calloused hands spreading your legs precisely to take him.

You clung to Billy, nails digging into his arms as you tried to adjust to his intrusion, your back arching until you melted yourself onto him, feeling him fill you.

“You needed some good dick didn’t you?” He flashed a cocky smirk, letting you get used to his size, before thrusting at a gradual pace.

Every time he filled you up, you felt a hint of uneasiness gnawed at you, but eventually, you settled into it, taking anything he gave you.

Letting out a breathless laugh as your mind became a fog of pleasure you responded, "Seems like it," you admitted, continuing to rock against him.

Billy's smirk grew wider, his rhythm picking up pace, his thrusts now desperate and hungry. The van rocked with the force of each movement, the grunts and moans of pleasure filling the space.

His gradual pace started to build, each thrust a little faster, a little deeper, each one pushing you further into the hazy world of ecstasy he'd drawn you into.

His hands gripped you tighter, his fingers digging into your flesh, leaving marks that would serve as a reminder of this moment.

You hissed at his hold's impact, and when your eyes met his, you noticed how his eyes lingered on the new marks, a twisted pride and satisfaction apparent in his gaze.

You started to move, your hips rolling in a slow, sensual rhythm, the sound of your flesh slapping against his filling the confined space. Each impact echoed in the small enclosure, a testament to the intensity of your passion.

Billy's hand left your hip, landing a sharp smack on your ass before he started to spank you, his hand a relentless rhythm, his eyes never leaving the sight of his hand connecting with your skin. The sting only served to fuel your arousal.

"Oh, just look at that. You were just made to take it all," he praised, the possessive tone in his voice sending shivers down your spine. You couldn't help but blush at his words, the realization of the control he held over you now sinking in.

The spanking continued, the pain and pleasure mingling until it was impossible to tell where one ended and the other began. Billy's gaze seemed to eat you alive, the way he watched you only served to fuel the fire within you.

The frenzied rhythm of his thrusts intensified, the slick sound of flesh meeting flesh filling the air. Your breaths grew more ragged, your hands gripping the seat as you rode him, the pleasure building within you, coiling and twisting, ready to explode.

Billy's hand finally left your ass, replacing it with one that wrapped around your throat. The sudden, firm grip sent a jolt of electricity through your body, his thumb pressing against your windpipe as he pulled you closer, his lips crashing into yours in a desperate kiss.

You moaned into his mouth, the sensation of being choked only serving to push you closer to the edge.

"Does that feel good?" he asked, the question was unnecessary, the answer clear in the way you clenched around him, the impending release evident in every quiver of your body.

"Yes," you gasped, the word barely audible, your throat constricted by his firm grip. The sensations overwhelmed you.

His name seemed to spill from your lips in a breathy cry, the release crashing over. After a few minutes, Billy followed suit, his body tensing as he filled you, the hot release dripping over your inner thighs.

As the aftershocks of your orgasm subsided, Billy released his grip on your throat, his hand falling away as the intensity of the moment faded. You remained atop him, your breathing heavy, the weight of what had just transpired settling between you.

"See, it wasn't so bad," he said with a husky chuckle.

You looked into his eyes, the intensity of the moment still lingering in your head.

"Might have taught you a lesson or two about how attraction works." he continued, a cocky grin tugging at the corner of his lips.

You nodded, your breath still catching in your throat, the reality of what had just happened slowly seeping into your consciousness.

"I guess so," Your hand gently traced a stray strand of hair from his forehead, the simple gesture eliciting a spark in his eyes that had been absent before. At that moment, you could feel the rapid beat of his heart, and how his breath went rapid once again.

Maybe this was more than just attraction after all.

As always, Thanks for reading <3

taglist: @freak-accident419 @valreanakuroo @jhutch-bf @cassiecasluciluce @jhutchismyl0verb0y

[itsabouttimex2]

Inky Clutches

“You were good today, weren’t you?”

The world suddenly snaps back to color, leaving you dazed and unsteady- just seconds ago you had been on the verge of the sleep, and now-

“Someone’s a tired little bug, aren’t they?” The curse’s hand prods and pokes at your cheek to trail a cold string of ink across it, prompting you to squeak and squirm away to escape the freezing touch.

“Stop stop stop!” You squeal in mild distress, writhing under your covers and scooting your back to the wooden bedrest. “Baba, stop!”

“My poor little Squiggle,” it lowly chuckles, pulling away the bedsheets. “Always so sleepy, aren’t you?” There’s always a strange note of warmth under their condescending tone, striking in its sincerity.

“I… I hadn’t meant to fall asleep,” you admit, looking away with a frown. “But you had been gone for so long…”

“Ahahahaha! What a cute pouty face! C’mon, drop that pout… be a good little ward and smile already,” it laughs, one hand pressing harshly down on your head, mussing your hair.

The curse is hardly apologetic for their lateness. But then, the Ink Curse never apologizes. They're cruel and wicked, only caring for how much misery they can spread to anyone caught inside this cursed scroll-

Except for you, that is.

It’s almost strange how doting the abomination can be, almost affectionate- though it’s unclear how much they actually care for you, given the frequent switching between treating you like their own child and treating you like a clingy little pet.

"I was busy,” it sighs, shifting to stand a good few feet taller than you. “You’re a big kid now, Y/N. You can look after yourself, can’t you?" The blobbish thing lightly scolds, as it reaches out to pat your head in a half-assed attempt to be comforting.

“But… if you want to act like a little baby, fine.”

You’re far too used to their antics by now. The constant taunting and belittling that comes naturally with the Ink Curse, the nicknames they call you- ‘Squiggle’ and ‘Inkblot’ are two of their gentler ones- it’s nothing new. But shows of physical affection are just rare enough to get you excited, prompting you to spring off the bed and reach out to be held.

The ink homunculus scoops you up with a huff, holding you close to their chest.

“…you’ve grown, Squiggle.”

It’s a quiet and sudden confession, as the curse buries their face against your shoulder with a sigh. For a change, you can’t hear the usual barely-restrained mockery. The teasing. The taunting.

The sort of thing it relishes in delivering to all the lost souls trapped in the confines of the cursed scroll.

But for you? There’s only a quiet grumble as cold arms wrap around you with an odd kind of gentleness in their grip.

“When did you get so tall?” They murmur against your hair, their voice a low grumble, but lacking all of the usual mockery.

But even in a moment as soft as this, there’s still a hint of condescension in their voice. The curse lets out another sigh, softer this time, and it pulls away to themselves, tilting your head from side to side as it studies you.

For an artificial being made entirely of ink and spite, the look in their eyes is downright warm.

“You were so small when we first met…”

Back when you first entered the scroll, you had been barely a toddler, not even old enough to speak in anything more than gurgles. Too young to have been counted as a “sinner”, the Ink Curse had instead taken you under it’s wing as a potential “heir” to one day assist it in punishing all those caught in the hellish recesses of this twisted artifact.

And in the years that had come and pass, you had grown in more ways than one. You’d grown older. Stronger. More self-reliant. You’d learned to read and write. Learned to control yourself, and in many ways, learned to control the ink hellscape around you.

…and the thought of you growing leads the Ink Curse to wonder if one day you’ll grow to long for a world you had been cast away from.

“Soon you'll be all grown up and leaving me behind, hm?"A clawed finger pokes your cheek, squishing the softness of your skin as it tips up your chin. “You'll forget all about old Inky, won't you? Find yourself a new Baba?"

“…you ask me this too much, Baba. You know that I can’t leave.”

“And yet, one day you will.” The curse bluntly retorts, expression turning cold in a flash.“One day you’ll grow up big and strong, and you’ll find your way back to the real world… and forget all about me.”

They play this “game” frequently- making you comfort them by insinuating that they have some deep-seated fear of you magically finding a way to escape this divine scroll of punishment.

“You’ll leave, and all those memories, all the things we shared together…”

As had come to be a norm, they were playing up the part of the overly-attached parent, and they were doing it well, voice growing just shaky enough to sound vulnerable, even managing to drop their smug smile for a minute.

“…you’ll forget all about them, and then all about me.”

“I- I would never! Baba, how could you say that I would-“

The curse is immediately flooded with a strange sense of satisfaction at your sudden and utterly panicked reaction, forcing down a gleeful grin.

“How could I say it?” They echo, suddenly growing colder in tone and slower in cadence. “Because you will. That’s how little children are- they grow up, and they forget all the things they once loved so dearly.”

“And I will be one of those things.”

The Ink Curse’s voice drops to a murmur as it continues, their cyan gaze locked on you. And even though you know by now that they’re just playing this cruel “game” once again, their words manage to send a chill down your spine.

“And you’ll forget my voice. Forget my face. Forget my love. You’ll forget everything about me. And then I’ll be nothing more than a little shadowy blob in the darkest corners of your mind.

As usual, tears bead up in your eyes at these harsh accusations, feeling shamed that your guardian would still believe you to have so little faith in them.

The abomination stares down at you as you begin to cry, a wicked sense of pleasure shooting through their pitch veins at the sight of your tears.

As cruel as it seems, the Ink Curse loves nothing more than putting your loyalty to the test- they love finding ways to make you reassure them time and time again that you won’t ever abandon them. And though they know that you’ll never do such a thing, they love to hear you say it over and over.

After all, it’s “just a game”. A little “make sure you still love me” test. Maybe you’re too empathetic. Too sensitive. Too naive.

You’re something that it counts as “frail”, though it wouldn’t be able to put a name to the trait.

And the curse uses that “weakness” frequently. Playing up how they “know” you will easily forget them, how you’re going to grow up and leave them in the dust, how you’ll eventually be consumed with the desire to escape from the hellish scroll and the “affectionate” curse within.

And you’ve never once failed to fall for it. Just as they had hoped. Each and every time, their plan has worked flawlessly.

This time, of course, is no different. You’re blinking back tears, on the verge of breaking down entirely, and the curse revels in every moment of it- the rush of power and joy that comes with the knowledge that you actually care about them.

That someone cares about them.

“Oh, my poor Squiggle… do you want me to take you to the swings again?”

The words are enough to make you jerk slightly, head lifting to stare at the curse with wet and wide eyes. It’s almost funny, how even in a moment as vulnerable as this, you’re still so eager and quick to respond to their hints of affection.

You had basically grown up in that little corner of the scroll, a little slice of history containing a quiet park, set on a cozy afternoon. Being “good” earned you visits there, a break from the monotony of traveling through the scroll and waiting for your guardian to finish punishing “sinners” as it found them before moving to the next section.

To be offered that trip again…

“Do you want a little break from all the heavy thinking?” It continues, shifting to hold you a little tighter. “A little break from being such a big, tough kid?”

(Kid. Are you a kid? You were at a stage between infant and toddler when you came, and it had been… how many years since then? How old were you?)

The curse watches carefully as you consider the offer. The promise of being taken outside for something as childish as a little swing session. It's a bribe like usual- a promise of something sweet in exchange for a little more manipulation of your emotions.

But they know how much you love the little park memory they set aside for you in the center of their little hell. And they know how effective it is at soothing your mood.

“…we can really… we’ll actually go back to that memory? Like we used to?”

The curse grins again, all traces of fake vulnerability gone from their expression. The tone of their voice is once again condescending, smug, and laced with a hint of mockery.

“Of course we can, Y/N. We’ll take a little trip to our old grounds, and I’ll try to forget all that cruel nonsense you were spouting.”

With a rictus grin, the ink demon offers you their pitch hand.

And, as always, you accept it.

[thatfreshi]

can i request the reader has an emotionally abusive parent and astarion finds out and protects and comforts her?

TW - Emotional abuse, gaslighting, domestic violence

Recommended Song: The Archer - Adam Melchor

After settling down in Baldur's Gate again, you and Astarion have been slowly trying to fit back into the city. It's hard though, after such a long adventure, after trauma and perilous feats, to just be a person. You've reached out to a couple of old friends, trying your best to explain everything without revealing too much, especially without Astarion jokingly baring his fangs and saying "Be warned, I bite." The dumbass seems to think reverse psychology works on everyone.

So word slowly gets out that you're back in town. People that you knew forever ago suddenly stop by the house, and each time Astarion has to double-check that you know them, paranoid about people coming into the home you've built for the two of you. You don't blame him one bit.

It's a Summer afternoon, and you've just come in from tending your little backyard garden. Astarion calls out to you as you come in the back door.

"Darling, there's yet another person here to see you."

He gets a little overwhelmed by all these people wanting to come see you, but he tries his best to be supportive.

"Alright, coming."

You take off your gloves and hang them up by the door, making your way to the front of the house.

"Who is it?"

"Not sure, she wouldn't say."

He opens the door, and a shiver runs down your spine. Your mother.

"Oh, it's so good to see you Tav."

She lunges for an embrace before you can step away, your body is in shock. 'Why is she here?' 'How did she find out?' 'Who could've possibly told her you were back in town?'

"And who is this handsome man?"

Astarion realizes you're a little stunned, and he takes over the conversation for you.

"Astarion, and who might you be?"

"Well I'm Tav's mother of course! I'm sure she's told you all about me." He words are lined with spite, poison dripping out of her mouth. Your vampiric lover senses the tension, and yet you quickly switch tones.

"Come on in mother, we can show you around."

A fake smile, a facade. He's taught you well how to hide your intent, especially in peril.

"Yes, of course."

His voice trails off, wondering what you're up to. You simply start a tour of the house, acting like you would with any old friend.

"So obviously here's the little living space. I'd like to have some more plants in here, but somebody has to have a place to store all his books."

You try to shoot him a playful look, but when you meet eyes both of you know it's wrong. You chuckle a little too late, almost robotically.

"Ah yes, Tav here used to read all the time as a little one. Read all those silly little adventure books, even wanted to go on one."

"Yes, but-"

"BUT, instead we kept our lovely little offspring around to help with the business for a while, convinced Tav it was best to help the family."

Something triggered in Astarion's brain, the way she said family.

"Yes, of course mother. It was the right thing to do after all."

He realizes you never spoke about your parents, or about any of your family members for that matter. You've always spoken so freely, without a care in the world. Suddenly you were stiff, conforming to a conversation that you had no control over.

"Well, everyone must leave the nest eventually."

He smiles, trying to relieve the tension, still analyzing your movements.

"Well, my child here just up and disappeared a couple years back, left me and my husband in shambles."

Clearly she didn't know about the nautiloid, or about any of your adventures.

"And yet suddenly here you are, a house, a lovely man, and you feel no need to tell your parents you're home? After all, we could always use the help."

"Well, Astarion and I have been very busy mother, finishing up the house, settling in."

"You know I could've helped with all that."

"We've been managing fine."

The conversation starts to get aggressive. Astarion goes into that protective stance of his, standing tall next to you and wrapping his arm around you.

"Yes, if we ever need help we'll certainly reach out."

There's a slight hiss at the end of his sentence, and you nudge him in the side, trying to get him to keep his composure.

"No need to get all defensive. Tav and I, we understand each other. I just worry, my child being out in the wild, adventuring through forests with all those miserable monsters."

"Would've been better being away from the worst of them."

You mutter under your breath. It's frustrating, this woman coming back into your life, trying to convince you to come back and 'help' her out with the business. You did almost all the work, under her hand. And when you said you wanted to leave and go out on a grand quest...

"You know what, you need to leave."

You finally speak up.

"Excuse me?"

She's shocked.

"Yeah, before there's another accident. Would hate if I broke my leg again."

Astarion's grip tenses.

"That was a sad coincidence and you know it Tav."

"No, you pulled the ladder out from under me while I was climbing to fix something on the roof, and I fell and shattered my leg, and this just so happened to be the day after I told you I was going to leave the city."

"I was trying to stabilize it after I saw it was falling. Don't blame your poor mother."

"And what about when you refused to have a cleric come see me, and I was on bed rest for months on end, while you did nothing."

Your mother goes to speak again, but Astarion cuts her off.

"As my lovely partner here has already said, I think you need to leave, now."

He unwraps himself from you, stepping towards the defensive woman.

"There's no way you believe Tav's idiotic lies. Don't be a fool."

"You're the fool, a fool who's about to lose their head if you don't turn around and leave this house."

She goes to say something else, watching as he goes to grab his trusty dagger. Instead she simply huffs, and storms out the door. Astarion slams it behind her.

"You'll come back Tav, you'll see reason!"

He quickly deadbolts the door and comes back over to you, and you finally break down. That woman, she terrorized you your entire childhood, and some mind flayer ship took you away from her, thankfully.

"You... you never told me about your mother."

"Yeah, I didn't think it really compared to all of your shit."

You wipe at your eyes.

"Now, we don't need to compare apples and oranges my love. It's abuse, all the same, all evil."

He holds you for a while. You're still nervous you'll hear banging on the door, but hopefully Astarion scared her off well enough.

"She'll never be back here, not if I have something to say about it. Here, come sit."

You make your way to the sofa, and he just holds you for a while. It's silent, except for his breathing and a few soft sobs from your sorrows.

"You know, I don't mean to pry, and you don't have to answer if you don't wish to... but did she really let you suffer like that? With your leg just, shattered?"

"Mhm. I couldn't walk for months. I still don't think it ever healed properly. I begged for her to get someone to come look at it, and she just kept saying 'no Tav, they'll just charge us for some bogus potions' and that was that."

He wraps his arms around you tighter than ever. He's lost in thought, going between thoughts of your pains and his own.

"We're so lucky."

You're a little surprised. It's not often he's such an optimist, especially at times like this.

"What do you mean?"

"I think we understand each other better than anyone. Your griefs echo mine, it just makes sense. Not to say I'm happy you went through that... but we're just lucky, lucky to have each other."

You plant a gentle kiss on his hand.

"I agree darling. Thank you, for always being here for me."

"Only because I know you'd do the same for me, my love."

The two of you stay cuddled there for a long time, not really saying or thinking anything. Just two people, sitting in the air of each other's freedom. Just two lovers who were the first to be loved by one another.