#just a small little lurker | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

livelaughlovesubs · 5 months ago

Note

Hi!! I’m a little lurker who only did one request once and I forgot what happened to that one so I have a different request!!

can you…uhm…write a little thing about priest!fyodor who believes reader to be a god but reader just a normal human?

And like human is a virgin and…you know where I’m going with this.

A worshiper Fyodor taking his beloved God’s virginity by riding reader until he passes out from how many times Fyodor bounced on his cock.

idk I just can’t stop thinking about it but I don’t think I worded it pretty well and you have pretty words soooo…

I’m sorry for bothering you with this imma just

go back to lurking once more…

but if I could bother you again? Can I be 🕶️ anon please?

This is similar to something I have started long ago! On my old blog! But it got deleted along with my drafts :’)

Dom!reader x sub!priest!fyodor - reader is gender neutral

Warning: pegging (I use dick), use of condom (wow scary), no prep, cum play (licking), hierophilia, corruption, taking virginity, worshipping, fucking in a church, dacryphilia, handjob, cumming untouched, mind break, sub space, bruises, god - worshipper relationship

It happened the moment he laid his eyes on you. When you walked in, pass the grand wooden door and slandered through the small halls. That miraculous day was Sunday, morning to be precise, and you came in late for the morning chant. Everyone who sat on the benches turned their head to look at you, some with scorn, some with a mocking grin. You looked unfazed and went straight to the first row, keeping eye contact with one single person, the priest in charge.

That cold attitude despite the loud voices, the way your every move was as smooth and elegant as clear water. Your expression after sitting down, lips shut while keeping your arrogant eyes on him, as if to judge him, to attest to something. All that appeared divine in his eyes, superior even, it caused a shudder to run down his spine. He had never felt such a pressing sensation before, it was the first time.

You were staring at him so much, though he couldn’t read your intentions. Nothing, only emptiness. A gentle breeze, that brought forth comfort, turning into an icy storm capable of destruction. These words would be perfect to describe you, or how his view of you, because everyone else seems to think otherwise. Most of them scoffed about you coming in late, those little complains soon changed into more vicious words. Like a devils curse, causing the once friendly guests to sin.

“Dear father, may we continue with the morning prayers?” Among the low whispers of the devil, a voice akin to an angels emerged. “Excuse me..?” Fyodor murmured, eyes subconsciously darting to the direction of the sound. Once again, it was you who called out to him. A blush crept onto his cheeks when he noticed your piercing gaze, it was a little embarrassing that he dazed out there. “Yes, of course, pardon my inattentiveness.” The priest said, glancing at you a last time before focusing on his duties. Or at least he tried, because he couldn’t concentrate. The entire time he found himself stealing glances at you, watching you. This wasn’t like him, he couldn’t even recognise himself.

From then onwards, he found himself searching for your eyes or attention. It began with him asking around about you, then it gradually turned into him actively seeking you out. Your meetings became more frequent, and more private as well. One day, he found you kneeling in the confession box, boringly staring through the bars. He quickly positioned himself, then asked, “what brings you to me, my child?”

Seeing you up close was a new experience, he felt the tingly sensation crawling around his body again. “Father, I’m here because I believe you have something to confess.” You said with a voice coated in sweet honey. “Me, confess?” The priest mumbled, obviously baffled by your words no matter how he adored your voice. “That’s right, I can see. If you have something to say, do it now.” After hearing you out, he swallowed the lump in his throat, before smiling at you meekly and admitting, “I fear I’m not loyal to my god anymore.”

It took a lot out of him, a servant of god, to utter these words. Of course it wasn’t without reason. Simply being in your presence made him feel special and watched, as if those nonchalant eyes of yours were the watching gaze of god. He couldn’t explain it, it was a chilly feeling, but at the same time it burned him from the inside. “Speak, father.” You spoke, then he suddenly slammed his hands against the wall separating the two of you. “My lord, you don’t have to speak politely with me. I, Fyodor, this lowly subject of yours, am ready to serve you with all my heart.” The male announced, smiling at you in delight, cheeks rosy as he declared you as his new god.

Anyone who heard this would have thought he was out of his mind, staring at him with a face that screams the word disbelief. But not you, contrary to what one would expect, your expression stayed neutral. “My subject? Lord?” You questioned his choice of vocabularies, tilting your head to the side. “Yes, oh lord, please let þis servant worship you.” Then, to your surprise, the father you were supposed to confess to kneeled down and clasped his hands together, praying to you with a sickening obsession.

That shivering, oppressive feeling didn’t leave him alone, it gnawed at him and told him this was the right thing to do. He couldn’t care less what he was supposed to do or not, all that wasn’t important anymore. Since his deity has come down and granted him an audience, he only has to follow their- your orders from now on.

Whatever got him acting this way was all in his head, you were nowhere near of being a god. Quite the opposite, you were just a human like him, and you found his actions irritating. But you weren’t any better, you didn’t correct him, rather, you liked that desperate look on his face. You wanted to test his limits, to see how far he’d go for you. In truth you enjoyed playing god for him, depending on who you are asking this might be even more twisted than what fyodor was pulling off.

It started with you getting him to do bothersome stuff for you, sometimes it also became materialistic. Other times you would just converse with him and enjoy his company. He’d ask tausend questions about you, some trivial, some existential ones. Most of the time you’d put up with his antics, acting like a benevolent and nice deity. That’s when one day, one of his curiosities caught you off guard. It was when he asked you:

“my lord, do.. you want me to comfort you?” You stared at him with furrowed brows and scoffed “comfort? Where did you get that idea?” “You look stressed my lord, I wish I could do something for you.” Fyodor said, he was on his knees in front of you, who was sitting on a bench in a huge room. The room where each Sunday a crowd of people would come in for morning prayers.

He looked up at you with foggy eyes, hands itching to worship your body. How could someone be this divine and perfect? Obviously he was the chosen one, he was born to meet you. “That… I’ve never done anything like that before. Speaking of which, have you, as a priest?” You questioned, a tiny bit interested. “No, I kept my chastity for you, my god.” Fyodor answered shamelessly, then thought about what you told him.

If what you said was right, then he awfully wanted to give his first to you, and to be your first as well. To take the virginity of his most beloved god and to give, there was nothing more he could ask of. “Is that so?” Your warm voice broke off the momentary silence, then you continued with, “come here.” You tapped your thighs, wondering if he would do it. Did he believe in you enough to commit something that has always been taboo for him? A part of you doubted it, but you wished he’d obey you yet again.

The boy stared at your moving hands for a while, then did as you instructed, climbing onto your lap with reddened cheeks. “…like this?” He raised his arms, about to wrap them around your neck but decided against that. Then he bawled them into fists and kept them behind his back, before grinding against your crotch with his own bulge. “Nghh... fo-forgive me, hah I-lord, can I please continue?" Fyodor mumbled with squinted eyes, biting his bottom lip while he let his desires take over. You grabbed his waist, wrinkling his black robe and stopping him, whispering, "D-don't move, not in the church." Your conscious forbid you from carrying out such acts in a holy place. Sure, you provoked him first, though you didn’t expect it to escalate this soon.

He begged you with glistening, teary eyes, hoping you'd let him go further than that. It felt so good he couldn't stop, he has never even touched himself before so that simple gesture was enough to make him drool. "P-please." Fyodor groaned into your ear, his voice has never been this needy or lewd, it surprised both of you. Instead of stopping when you told him to, he continued to grind against you and whimper, "use me however you see fit, my lord, please let me he-help you." You clenched your teeth, use is a strong word. It’d be a lie to say you weren't aroused, so you sighed and complied with his request, "dammit, fine. Go and get my bag."

This was how you were going to have your first? Giving it to a crazy priest who believes you were a being above humanity? Who would have guessed…

You watched him get off with shaky legs, the spot between his legs was all wet and sticky already. Was it normal to be this sensitive? It's probably because he's a virgin, just look at him eagerly bringing your stuff to you. Once he came back, you fumbled around in your bag, luckily you always brought your stuff with you in case of a spontaneous one-night-stand. It never happened before, yet you knew you would need it one day. After you were done with the preparations, you opened a pack of condom, about to pull it over your length when he clasped his hand over yours. "L-let me do it." He proposed, hands shaking with embarrassment as he took slowly pulled it down to the shaft. You almost laughed because he was making such a big deal out of it, sweating furiously with an ashamed gaze.

"Do you find it dirty to touch it?" You chuckled after watching him for a bit, finding his reactions pretty amusing. "No-no.!! No.. that, I-I'm.." His face heat up again as he tried to find the right words. In the end he decided to just speed up the entire thing, and grabbed the bottle of lube that was in your other hand. Then he squeezed the contents onto your dick and spread it evenly, wondering if this would even fit. After a minute, you grabbed his wrist and scoffed, "are you done playing?" Out of nervousness and excitement he forgot to stick it inside him, looking away in shame before lining the tip up with his hole.

"HnnGgh.. this is h-hard.." he complained under his breath, trying his best to take you. You wanted to prepare him first, but he said he wanted the first thing to enter him to be you and not some fingers. Since that was what he wanted, you decided to let him be. That's what led to your current situation, where he's desperately poking his entrance with your dick. “NghhHg..! Ah, f-feels good..” Finally he managed to take your tip, already panting like he had ran a marathon. "Good job." You praised him, then caressed his soft thighs. They were covered by his clothes, which annoyed you a little, so you gripped his hips and butt before slamming him down your cock. "AhhHGGgNN.!? AahHH..! H-hurts.." He moaned out loudly, then slumped against your chest, fingers clawing at you for support.

Fat tears rolled down his cheeks, his body shivered at the sudden impact. You were stretching him so much, he could swear his butt was going to tear. At the same time he was so happy, enjoying this to the fullest. His insides were working overtime, trying to accommodate your thickness and length, his rim clenching and loosening up with each inhale. He made such sinful noises when your hands squeezed his snatched waist, to the point you wondered if he was telling the truth earlier. After waiting for him to stop holding onto you like his life depended on it, you cupped his cheeks, making him look up at you. “Look here, fyodor, tell me how good it feels.” Then you grind your hips against his.

The movements were minimal, you didn’t make him ride you yet, only pushing it slightly deeper inside him. Yet the reaction was better than expected. He arched his back, throwing his arms around your neck out of reflex and whined, “ahHhH!! I-i love it, god, it’s so NGhh m-my insides are tingling..♡” You clicked your tongue, grabbing his butt to have a better grip and praised him, “so good for me.. there’s to turning back now, you don’t mind sinning for me, right?” He didn’t even think twice before saying, “I’ll do whatever you want me to..!”

After getting his permission, you told him to hold onto you tightly. Once he did as you commanded, you manhandled him and made him go up and down your dick. Your little worshipper wasn’t particularly short, rather, he was unusually light. He couldn’t even keep a straight face composure anymore, crashing against you once again as he moaned into your ears. Poor boy was crying due to the overwhelming pleasure, thighs trying to close together in a twitching manner and toes curled off the ground. Drool dripped down his chin and soaked your clothes, all while he moaned out your Titel.

“L-lord, god.. ah, please!! S-slow down.. ngHh, too much, too big..♡♡” his voice became higher with each trust, and bruises began to form around his hips because of your rough grip. “Didn’t you say I can do what I want?” You reminded him, licking your lips when you saw his melting face. How those beautiful water drops raced down his cheeks like soft rain against a window. His pupils even formed little hearts to match that pleasure-ridden gaze in his eyes. Most of his bangs stuck to his forehead, the rest of his hair bounced around whenever you made him ride you.

Then you said fuck it and ripped his priest robe, so that you’d have more access to his skin. “Hu-hUHmnn..?! M-my lord! AhhHNN!!” He shrieked when he noticed one of your hand on his inner thighs, pinching and groping his skin. “W-why there..? Nghhh…” Fyodor groaned, a tad embarrassed by the intimate touch. His deity was touching him after all. Alone the thought of you, his one and only god, fucking him and using him was enough to get him to the verge of cumming.

More precum leaked from his shameless tip, soiling the back of your hand. “M-m’sorry, so-sorry..ah, for being d-dirty..!” He immediately apologised, holding your wrist weakly and bringing it to his lips. Then he slowly licked off the pre, using kitten licks that looked so inexperienced and adorable that you had to tease him more. Sticking your finger into his mouth and snapping your hips against his. Fastening your pace, going rougher and deeper, rutting into him like he was some fleshlight. At this point his petite body won’t be able to take it! He’s so slim and vulnerable, it’d be a shame to break his mind and make him your toy, wouldn’t it?

“MhmMNN… ah, r-right there..Nghh, too f-fast, g-god! feels good~ ♡” Fyodor mewled into your ears, squeaking as he tried to shake his ass for you. But he was more on the passive side, letting you move his body however you saw fit. His sloppy and slutty hole was making squelching noises whenever you bottom out in him, all sticky with lube already. You were so caught up in the moment, you weren’t even sure what you were doing. All you knew was you wanted to touch him, to feel up his figure and trace the outlines of his body. Then you kissed his neck, causing him to whimper uncontrollably. “Hnghh… I- mHhm, l-lord help me.. I want more♡ something is coming out..!!” The boy gasped and smiled, grinning satisfied, the expression almost looked dumb.

You did as he asked of you, slamming him down onto your dick harder and trying to hit his sweet spot more often. The way it rubbed and played with his soft and warm walls made him see the light, or he was just about to blank out. “Nghh! F-forgive me.. for my siiiinnns..!! ♡♥︎～” The priest, Fyodor, your exclusive worshipper and toy servant groaned a last time before shooting ropes of cum out of his twitching member. His thick and filthy cum got everywhere. From his ripped clothes to his milky inner thighs and chest. Then he slumped down, pleasure and sensations he never felt before all coursing through him at once. He felt so good, this was the first time he felt this amazing. It must be due to you, because of your blessings.

Oh how lucky he was to serve such a kindhearted and generous god, who was patient enough to show him all this bliss. This was heavenly~ His body was still a shaking, twitching mess. The lingering ecstasy making him sob and moan louder. After giving him a gift this great, he will have to serve you even more diligently and wholeheartedly! He will make sure to worship and treasure whatever you gave him!

Even you had to catch up your breath since the session was so intense, panting a little while still admiring him. You were still inside him, and he was clenching down onto you without letting you pull out. Then you leaned back against the lean of the bench, signing when you realised what you just did. Now you were definitely going to hell. Fucking a priest in the praying halls, were you possessed? Right before you could tell him to get off, since you two had to clean up, he took off his clothes completely. “Huh..? Fyodor?” You whispered in disbelief. Sure, you ruined his robes, but why did he take them off?

It was the first time you saw him entirely naked, and he was as skinny as you noticed him to be. His nipples were all hard and pink, a cute colour in your opinion. A few seconds later, he re-positioned himself in your lap despite his legs giving up under him. Then, he slowly rode you, jumping up and down while wrapping one hand around his shaft. You rushed to stop him, saying, “wait a sec- shouldn’t we, especially you, take a break?” Seriously, for how sickly and pathetic he looks, he had quit the stamina? Instead of obeying you like normally, fyodor smirked obsessively and moaned, “G-god, forgive me for i-indulging..! Ahhh.. I’m so sinful, I deserve punishment. But..!! it’s just so good I can’t stop ♥︎♡.”

What…? Wait- isn’t this priest too slutty…?? It seems you’ll have to suck it up and wait until he milked himself dry on your dick ♥︎

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sanguineterrain · 1 year ago

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Feel like I’m so basic but Jason Todd with a crush and him having zero social skills and just being super clumsy despite being highly competent when he’s in the field. Crush is like real sweet and kind maybe a service worker ✨

anon u are so true and real for this bc jason is definitely an unsocialized cat when he has a crush 💓

jason todd x gn!reader. shyish/anxious jason with a big fat crush. baker reader. annoying customer. the duality of jason todd. 1.6k words.

also i fully believe that silently leaving huge tips as a way to flirt is like. a wayne trait. 100% that family does that bc of bruce.

prompt lists are here! i reblog all fics to @sanguinelibrary

****

Business has been slow.

It's not like you expect your cafe to be packed to the rafters all day long, but you've had a grand total of four customers today. One of them only came in to ask where Starbucks was.

Frankly, you're not sure the cafe can afford to stay afloat for much longer. Gotham isn't known to preserve small businesses, and the conglomerates (cough, Wayne Enterprises) are taking over the world anyway.

So today is a reading day. You might even close early.

You're at a table in the back, so absorbed in Poirot's sleuthing that you don't hear the door open. It isn't until you turn the page and look up that you see your resident lurker waiting quietly at the display case. You flinch so hard that you spill iced tea on your jeans.

"Shit," you murmur, grabbing a wad of napkins and patting yourself dry.

Jason (as is written on his coffee cup) looks up from the pastries, teal eyes wide. You smile briefly at him. For such a big guy, his footsteps are astonishingly soft.

"Is everything okay?" he asks, voice rough like he doesn't speak much.

"Yeah, fine. You just startled me—I didn't hear you come in. Were you waiting long? Sorry about that."

"Oh. No, I wasn't. Sorry." He shifts weight between his feet. "You seemed pretty engrossed in your book. I didn't, uh, want to disturb you."

"Oh, hey, don't worry about that! It's literally my job to be here," you say, though you can't help but melt over how freaking sweet that is.

Jason visits you a minimum of twice a week. He's been coming for a couple of weeks. You know a whole three things about him: he's a university student, he pretty much only dresses in red or black, and he's unfairly cute.

At first, you were reasonably wary of him because it's Gotham, and he's so damn quiet. It's a little scary. You thought maybe he was an undercover spy casing the joint. Now you know he's just awkward.

"Slow day?" he asks.

"Slow year, more like. How are you? How was your exam?"

He blinks. "Exam?"

"Didn't you have an American lit exam last week?"

"Oh. Uh, yeah. Wow. Yes, I did. It was okay. Got an A."

"That's great! I knew you'd ace it."

His cheeks turn pink. Okay, you actually know four things about him: he blushes a lot.

You go to start the coffee machine. "Do you think you'll—"

"I-I have to go."

You watch, stunned, as he hurries out the door. That's when you notice the fifty dollar bill in your tip jar.

You don't know if you should bring up yesterday. Jason's back; that probably means everything's fine, right? You're not sure if you said something wrong, though. You've gone over the interaction a hundred times since and you can't figure out why he's so skittish around you.

"Hi. Hibiscus tea, please," he says, stoic as always.

You prepare his order, yesterday's interaction still fresh in your head. You should say something, shouldn't you? Or...

"Sorry about yesterday," Jason blurts, so fast you almost miss it. "Running out, I mean. I was, uh—I forgot something."

Well. Looks like he's going to bring it up for you.

"Oh, you don't have to apologize! If I said something wrong..."

Jason shakes his head fervently. "No, God no. You're perfect."

Your eyebrows shoot up. He turns red this time.

"I mean—not perf—well, you're amazing, don't get me wrong! Except, like, what is perfect, y'know? My brother has gotten into the habit of calling everything perfection like some kind of sitcom character. Alfred will make pie, and Dick'll go, "Alfie, that was perfection." And I feel like it's such an exaggeration—"

Jason's mouth snaps closed. He rubs his forehead.

"Um, I actually have chronic foot-in-mouth disease. It gets really, stupidly bad. Sorry."

You're trying hard not to giggle. You want to smother him in frosting and take a bite.

"You're really sweet, you know that?" you say.

"I'm really not," he says with a sigh.

"Not true. Can you do me a favor?"

"Anything."

You go into the kitchen and return with your latest experiment: matcha cream puffs.

"Do you mind trying these for me? You're not allergic to anything, are you?"

Jason's shoulders hunch. "Are you sure you want my opinion?"

"Of course I'm sure," you say happily. "I trust you."

"You trust me," he repeats quietly.

"Yup!"

Jason takes a puff and bites. He starts to nod.

"It's really good. You're really—all your creations are—yeah. It's good."

You squint. "No notes? Really?"

"They're perfection, as my brother would say."

Fuck, you like him so much.

"Have another one," you say, pushing the tray towards him.

"I shouldn't—"

"Wait! I'll pack you some!" you interrupt, flitting back to the kitchen to get a Tupperware.

Jason helplessly accepts the container of puffs you shove into his hands.

"Let me pay-" he tries to say, but you shake your head.

"Nope! I won't accept payment for these. Not from my favorite customer."

"Your favorite?"

"My favorite," you confirm, grinning.

"Oh." His ears turn pink as he walks to the door, cream puffs in hand. "Uh, right. Thanks. See you tomorrow."

"Jason? Don't you want your tea?"

"Shit. Yeah." He returns to the counter and takes his drink. This he insists on paying for, so you let him, because you do have rent to pay, after all.

"So nice to see you!" you add, because the stiffness in his gait is kind of throwing you off.

He just nods, slipping out the door as quietly as he came.

Today, Jason's in a red workout tank. You have to make the conscious effort to not ogle his arms.

"Hey, Jason!" you say cheerily.

"Hi," he says softly.

"The usual?" you ask, and he looks up in surprise.

"You know my order?"

You gently roll your eyes. "Of course I know your order, silly. Favorite customer, remember?"

"Oh." He looks away, brow furrowed. Then he turns to you and his expression smooths over. "Yes, please. Thanks."

"Sure. Give me one second? I just have to finish decorating some sugar cookies."

"Take your time," Jason says, then goes to skulk by the window.

The door is suddenly swung harder than necessary, thumping the glass.

"Hey!"

You look up from the cookies. A man in a suit is waving his phone impatiently.

"I ordered a dozen muffins. Where are they, huh?" he demands.

"Oh, right! Well, you called ten minutes ago, so they won't be ready till six, sir. Can I get you something while you wait?"

He scoffs and stomps to the counter. You almost back down, but you don't; that's exactly what these bullies want.

"This is exactly why no one eats at dinky cafes like yours. You can't even do this!" he fumes, shoving a finger in your face.

"Sir, like I said, the muffins are baking..."

"I know the city's health inspector personally," the man spits viciously. "One call, and I can—"

"Say one more word."

You blink as Jason is suddenly between you and the customer, stood at his full height. He's all muscle and broad shoulders, looming over the guy. You peek around him.

"What the fuck, man?" the angry customer squawks. "Move!"

"No, you move," Jason says, tone lethal. "Sit quietly at a table and wait for your muffins to bake. Then you can thank the nice baker for waiting on your sorry ass and you're not gonna come back. They have far more patience for entitled fucks than I do."

"Fuck you," the man spits.

Jason calmly closes the distance between them and whispers in his ear, hand like a vice around the jerk's shoulder. You watch as he turns pale, eyes growing wider.

"Sound good?" Jason asks pleasantly, all teeth. The man gapes at him.

Wow. Yeah. This is really doing something for you.

The oven dings. You go to retrieve the muffins, packing them as quickly as possible. You give him the box and the man nods.

"Thanks," he mumbles, then scurries out of the store.

Jason turns to you, and it's like looking at a completely different person.

"You okay?" he asks, posture stiff like he's still prepared for a fight.

You nod, a little dazed.

"Yeah. Wow. Jason, I... you didn't have to do that. I mean, thank you for doing it, but..."

"Hey, that guy was a jackass. And if you have trouble with him or anyone else, call me, okay?"

This side of him stuns you. If you didn't know better, you'd think he had this exchange regularly.

"Call you?" you ask, smiling. "How will I call you if I don't have your number?"

He freezes, eyes wide. "Oh. Uh. Um..."

You lean over, elbows on your counter. He watches you. You cup your hand around your mouth, pretending to divulge a secret.

"This is where you, the cute guy who frequents my struggling cafe, gives me your number."

"You think I'm cute?" he asks.

"Devastatingly so," you say, grinning.

He's quiet for a long moment. Your smile starts to dim.

"Did I read this wrong?" you ask. "If I came off too strong..."

"No!" he says a little too loud. Jason winces. "Sorry. No. I... you're... fuck, I'm not good at this. I don't even really drink tea or coffee, to be honest. I just come in to see you."

"You do?"

Jason sighs. "Yeah. Shit. That's creepy, isn't it?"

You laugh and he visibly softens.

"No, Jason," you say warmly. "It's sweet."

"So can I still ask you on a proper date? Not coffee."

You grin. "That would be perfection."

#jason todd x reader #jason todd x you #jason todd x y/n #red hood x reader #red hood x you #red hood x y/n #batman fanfiction #red hood fanfiction #jason todd fanfiction #coffee shop au #bakery au #dc fanfiction #inbox #blurb

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grimmweepers · 2 months ago

Text

𝐆𝐔𝐍 𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐘: OCT 31ST

— ♤ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: bonten!sanzu x fem!reader | 𝐜𝐰: gunplay, gun kink, under the influence (alcohol), dubcon, semi-public, night club setting, dark jokes, reader wears a dress, light spanking (slaps your ass once), established relationship, calls you 'baby' & 'little girl', groping if you squint (from sanzu), erm something inanimate goes in your hole, can you guess what? :o) 1.8k wc, 18+ only, MDNI.

𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | 𝐫𝐞𝐠𝐮𝐥𝐚𝐫 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

reblogs and interactions are always appreciated ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

AND ONE LAST TIME, READ THE WARNINGS!

The smell of cigar smoke and expensive cologne infested the room. How it traveled from the main part of the club to this secluded space was beyond you, but you couldn’t think too much about it. A heavy bass vibrated the mirrored walls, making it seem like everything around you pulsed with life, and the hum of music was still audible—but it was distant enough to reassure you there would be absolutely no lurkers nearby.

You sat on your boyfriend’s lap, legs spread wide over his suited thighs while the leather couch squeaked shyly underneath you. Smitten with stealing you away from the crowd, Sanzu’s hands rested firmly on your hips to keep you in place, but the real control was in his pistol. It glinted under the little light that the room provided and his eyes watched you intently as he traced the barrel along your throat, the cold metal biting into your skin.

You felt the coercion behind it, inviting you like an innocent dare when in actuality it was downright rotten, and he licked his lips as he gave you a moment to reconsider.

In Bonten, it was always Sanzu who pulled the trigger so this wasn’t his first time at the rodeo—but having you at the receiving end was.

When he initially removed it from his pocket, you decided on a whim that you would act on your little fantasy, snatching the gun from his grasp and gifting it a playful kiss. But what you should have known was that everything you did, he could take even further.

“You’re not scared, are ya?” His smirk deepened when he pressed the barrel harder into your skin. “It’s loaded.”

“I’m not,” but you should have been. You blamed all the shots you threw back, the bitter taste of alcohol still melted into the buds of your tongue and it left your body burning for him instead of being afraid of the weapon in front of you.

The corner of his scarred mouth quirked into a dark smile as he leaned closer, “Good.” He shifted the gun lower, dragging the barrel down your throat, between your breasts, until it rested against your lower abdomen. “Don’t want you dyin' in a shit mood if I accidentally fuck up…” he dramatically mimicked a small explosion with his hand, and poof was the sound he added right after so you knew he meant blowing out your guts.

A soft gasp escaped your lips as he slid his hand up your thigh, pushing the hem of your dress higher.

“Damn,” his fingers dipped between your legs, finding your panties already damp with arousal, “Why didn't you tell me you were into this sooner?”

You squirmed in his lap and felt his growing tent poking at you from underneath. “Just had to make sure you weren’t psychotic enough to shoot,” you shrugged.

“Yeah I got somethin’ to shoot in ya and it ain’t these bullets, babe,” he cackled but you dropped your weight on his lap even more to remind him he wasn’t going to “shoot” anything at all if he kept this up.

Sanzu resisted the urge to close his eyes at the feeling of your warmth pressed on his crotch. Flushed, soft and only a thin layer away from your pussy. It was too early for him to do some shit like rut into you because if it wasn't obvious to you already, it was he who had been thinking with his dick since the beginning of the night.

When his boys weren’t looking, he was all over you, pulling you to dark corners any chance he got just to grope you while he shoved his alcohol-laced tongue down your throat. As your own liquid courage came to fruition, you both ended up in this private room—and every pretty penny it cost him was entirely worth it.

Finally, Sanzu trailed the barrel lower and lower, brushing it over your panties and tickling your clit in a way that made your breath hitch. Your heart pounded in your chest and you couldn’t help but roll your hips towards it. With his eyes still locked on you, he watched closely for every reaction, finding satisfaction in every little twitch of pleasure as he dragged the gun back and forth across your clothed pussy.

“You like that, don’t ya?” he purred.

You couldn't stop a defeated moan from slipping past your lips, “Yeah… I do.” Your voice was trembling, hardly above a whisper and there was no denying that you were getting wetter by the minute.

“You’re fuckin’ filthy,” he hissed, each word dripping with amusement. Sanzu shifted again, this time sliding the barrel underneath your panties, pressing it directly against your aching core.

“Oh—” was all you could say as your body jerked towards the blissful pressure. The contrast of its icy touch rubbing against your heat had you shuddering.

Your reaction made him involuntarily buck into you, clearly even more turned on by how desperate you were. So he guided the gun down your slit, the barrel grazing your entrance with slow strokes that left your stomach fluttering with anticipation. Sanzu was now rock hard, precum threatening to seep through his slacks as he watched you try to get off on his weapon.

“Dirty, little girl,” you heard the mockery in his voice and felt his free hand fall on your waist, controlling your movements as you rubbed yourself against the cool metal.

“Please…” You whimpered as your body went taut.

Sanzu chuckled, pressing the barrel harder against your entrance, slipping just the tip of it inside you. You cried out his name at the foreign sensation, “More, more, more…!” while you locked his thighs between your legs.

It was nothing compared to the girth of his cock but better that than nothing, right?

“Fuck yeah,” he groaned, brain almost short-circuiting at how lewd you were, “You want this gun in your pussy?”

Nodding, you carefully rocked your hips towards him and that was all he needed to start thrusting it. Slowly, like he was testing the waters.

You bit your bottom lip as it stretched you out, “Mhm! Feels… so fucking good—” which earned you an encouraging, “Uh huh? Is that right?” from your boyfriend. With the music blaring in the background, you both weren’t afraid to be loud so you didn't suppress the moans and mewls that slipped in tandem each time he urged you on.

But the thing with alcohol was that everything felt ten times better, ten times delicious, ten times tantalising, so you didn’t have the patience to take it slow—you were desperate to feel it pumping inside you even though it made you tremble on top of him.

You picked up your pace like you needed that thing and when you placed your hand on his shoulders to balance yourself, the look he flashed you was nothing shy of crazy—teeth glistening under the low light and jaw slacking as if seeing you like this was better than any drug he’d ever taken.

He allowed himself to look down to see where the pistol and your pussy connected, again and again, faster and harder, and—

“Fuckkkkk,” was all he could quietly say as another bead of precum stained the inside of his briefs.

“Come on, baby,” his hand snaked to your ass, giving it a hard spank as you chased your release. He couldn’t get enough of seeing you so feral, “Cum for me. Cum on it.”

If you weren’t so dumbstruck from his gun, you would have felt his cock twitching with you, wishing it was him you were bouncing on instead. He growled, “Fuck it, baby. Fuck it like it’s me.”

The combination of his words, his voice, his hands, and getting taken by a literal gun, had you whining uncontrollably. Each time you slid against the cold steel, it rattled and touched your sweet spot. You were dangerously close—and the worst part of it was that it wasn’t the threat of getting shot that you were close to, but the fact that you were close to cumming all over that very weapon.

You writhed above him, and he could've busted in his pants just from the friction of you. You didn't want to stop. Actually, you couldn't stop. Each time you rocked your hips, it took a breath out of you—out of him. And inevitably your orgasm tore through you as if it were the first time you felt an orgasm at all.

“Ah fuck!!!!" The coil in you finally snapped. "I’m— cummi—” You gasped and clung to him while it consumed you.

Your body convulsed as the rest of your panties became fully soaked with your essence and Sanzu moved his gun faster just to draw out the last of your shockwaves. Your walls clenched and squeezed until you went limp against him—pleasure quickly replaced with sensitivity.

Soon, Sanzu pulled the gun from between your legs, and with a wicked smirk on his face, he held it between you, showing the barrel slick with your juices like it was some prize.

At first, you were too dazed and out of breath to notice what he was trying to do, but his mouth parted slightly when you did.

“Kiss it,” he muttered, giving the weapon a subtle shake in his hand. Never the type to let you off the hook so easily, he brought it close to your lips and waited.

Yet, with a gleam in your eye that matched his own, you slowly leaned in and brushed your lips against the metal. The taste of your own cunt sent another rush through you, and you heard his sharp intake of breath at the sight.

“Fuckin’ hell, you’re so damn sexy,” he said as you tipped the pistol into your mouth, softly moaning and sucking on the barrel as if it were an extension of him. Biting his lips, he groaned at your filthy little act and judging from that signature unhinged grin he was giving you, you knew he wouldn’t be able to hold himself back any longer.

When Sanzu pulled the gun from your mouth, he fought tooth and nail not to tear the dress off of you, after all, you had to wear something on the way home. So he tossed his weapon to the side, wrapped his hand around the back of your neck, and crashed his lips onto yours like a starved animal.

He started to fiddle with his belt buckle while he muffled grunts and curses into your mouth, the bulge under his trousers painfully prominent. Something stirred within him and you could feel his breathing intensifying as you kissed back with equal fervor.

Between gasps of air, it almost sounded like he was begging when he impatiently unzipped his pants and said, “Ride me.”

“After all that, you can’t even say it nicely?” You returned that smirk he’d been wearing all night.

“Please, baby.”

As you lifted the hem of your dress to your waist, a secret smile formed the corner of your mouth. You missed the feeling of something actually stretching you out, so after seeing your boyfriend free his throbbing cock from its restraints, the way it glistened with precum and twitched excitedly—you knew the fun was only just beginning.

a/n: made it through my first kinktober! if you’ve read any of my ktober posts, thank you! if this is your first, thank you and i hope you enjoyed! i’ve had this in my drafts since the 3rd of september, it killed me to wait this long!

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krysmcscience · 2 months ago

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BILLDUMP TIME (with transparency, because I can). Don't mind me, I'm just yeeting my goofy art at some way more talented individuals out of nowhere and then hauling ass back to the security of being a weird silent lurker ahaha

@tesscourtes and @beccadrawsstuff, respectively! These two Bills make a little prism of sorts together because of their recent crossovers on Patreon~ :3c Speaking of which, I highly recommend supporting both these artists! They do fantastic work! (TessCourtes and Beccup)

@qoolk on the left, and @monobmp on the right! I am such a sucker for these outfits~ OuO Go and check these two out, their art is phenomenal!!! >u<

@1spooky2me The most difficult Bill of the lot for me to draw, ahaha... Their art is so incredibly consistent and dynamic, I am, a little envious <:,) A little envious, but mostly impressed, so go look at their amazing art, what are you waiting for

And finally, @ckret2, whose writing is sublimely in-character and just a delight to read - they're a great artist, as well! I simply Could Not resist drawing their Bill in this ridiculous incredible and very fashionable pink feather dress, even though he only briefly wears it in their fic, so I also did a little bonus doodle of him in his standard hoodie to make up for it. XD (Also, as far as I'm concerned, Bill and Mabel were both correct in that lime green accessories make the dress Much Better.)

This is just a small selection of the human Bill designs I enjoy. I may draw and post more later on, who knows! Feel free to reblog with some neat Bill designs, either your own or by other folks - if any of the designs particularly call to me, I'll add them to the little list I've got going~ :D (Alternatively, if you really like my stuff and want me to draw something specific, you could...mmm...perhaps, commission me...? OuO)

Also I'm tagging Billford because uhhhh yeah, sorry not sorry, every single one of these Bills is getting shipped with Ford by the artists in some way or another, lmao

#fanart #gravity falls #bill cipher #human bill cipher #human bill design #billford #bill is just so Gender #regardless of whether or not he's a triangle. just. such Gender. wow #honestly tempted to draw the OG twink!bill and the mangopablo save-the-town!bill just for funzies #i may also attempt to draw alex hirsch's “canon” human!bill but uhhhh who knows LOL #i kinda feel like he made the design extra ugly just to poke fun at the fandom #so the “canon” aspect of it is kinda up in the air for me personally LMAO #not sure if i drew goldilocks!bill thicc enough tbh #just. look. it's hard to draw a person who is as close to triangular as a human can possibly get. ok??? ok #I TRIED AND THAT'S WHAT'S IMPORTANT OnO #in other news why did these turn out so much better than the drawings of my own design??? wtf that's so rude #get it together ME this is fukken embarrassing #btw if i draw something for you and you respond to thank me only to have me say nothing back it's because i am very awkward and anxious lol #there is also the adhd which makes me forget that i failed to respond like a normal person would have ahahahaha o-o #but mostly it's the horrors of being perceived for more than the two seconds it takes to yeet an art at a person O-O #why am i like this? good question! maybe i'll have an answer someday when i can actually afford therapy XD #I SHOULD HAVE BEEN ASLEEP FIVE HOURS AGO

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r0ttenhearts · 3 months ago

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slip from my mind

scaramouche x reader (streamer AU)

part 1

sypnosis: scaramouche was a moderately known streamer, while you were a newbie streamer who happened to be a “fan” of scaramouche. your only hope is for him to hear your feelings, even if he doesn’t reciprocate it.

you didn’t mean to be weird, not really. but it was scaramouche! in a world as small as yours, he was a micro celebrity in your small social circle online. you were only mutuals, which you considered yourself very lucky to have. it was strange for you to be so fangirlish over some random guy on the internet, but something about this felt different. somehow you had a feeling that you’d come to know him, every time you glanced his profile. that day couldn’t come soon enough.

scaramouche was streaming another one of his MMORPG’s while you watched quietly in a minimized tab at your desk. it was another one of those days where you felt a very heavy silence in the comfort of your four walls. only those walls didn’t feel comforting, just cold. it was a very deep cold, a cold that drapes over you like a heavy blanket.

“the redheads in this game are the hottest to me.” scaramouche’s voice rang out from the little box you had set his stream in. as a consistent lurker, you never were one to think of typing something the chat. but today you felt so constricted that you allowed yourself to mindlessly write a comment in his chat. “where’s the love for (h/c)’ed girls :(“ you typed out before tapping send. you didn’t think much of it, not really. it’s likely he wouldn’t even respond to it. he doesn’t respond to every single message.

you turned your attention back to your other monitor where you were idling in a game, your attempt to try and cut the heaviness that you felt.

“(h/c)’ed girls are cute too.” scaramouche replied, moments after you had already forgotten the message you had mindlessly posted. the gears clicked in your head as you replayed his words. he actually replied to your message. your first and only direct interaction to him and he noticed. a warmth swelled up inside of you as you clicked back into his chat, fingers ready to type. what would you say? how should you reply? should you be nice or give a witty answer? would he even reply to it?

“yay there’s hope for us :)” you sent into the chat. you giddily waited for a response, only for scaramouche to ramble on about a raid in his game. while you hadn’t gotten the complete interaction, you were still happy for the brief moments of his attention. it really was the coolest thing for you. and when your life is a constant replay of the same day, even small things like a streamer responding to you meant the the world to you. there wasn’t much to get excited for these days, so you let yourself savor these moments. as few and far between as they were.

scaramouche continued his stream for another hour until he went offline. you closed out of his stream page and went into yours, modifying a few of your stream elements before your next stream. as you clicked through your files to upload for your template, a ping sound came from below your screen. it was a DM. you clicked it open, only to see:

scarax: soo miss (h/c) girl, do you play WOL?

scaramouche asking if you play his game? so you could possibly duo? today couldn’t have gotten any better. your smile felt very cheesy as you clicked on the dm, typing away a reply.

(y/n)^_^: yes! but i’m very under-geared compared to you

you were in. you spent the rest of the afternoon texting scaramouche about the game, world of legends, planning a day to duo. he had given you his discord to be able to message more directly. it all felt so surreal. scaramouche was a lot sweeter than he appeared to be from his streams.

on camera he had this tough, almost borderline jerk-y attitude, but it was in a way that you found endearing. maybe that was your first red flag you shouldn’t have ignored. but off stream, he was the sweetest guy you had ever met. he made sure to good morning and good night text you, and consistently hangout and talk to you.before you knew it, it had officially been a month since you two met, and you were now very much into each other. he wanted nothing more than to introduce you on stream for your official getting together, so that’s just what you two did.

the chat blew up in support of the new relationship that had blossomed between you both.

mnxia: you guys are so cute!

prnk: wishing you the best dude

pnnylvr: so jealous omggg

you regularly would go on to stream together and spend practically every day together. everything felt perfect. you had finally gotten something to break your everyday life. and it was the micro celebrity with 500 followers.

a few weeks after your first month anniversary, scaramouche wanted to meet you. it had made you nervous, at the time you both were practically edating, despite living in the same city. but it wrecked your nerves to think of all of the things you could do wrong in person.

you were known for being a strange girl almost the few people that knew you. and not in a negative way; not really. just that you had a tendency to say things in a slightly more dramatized way. as well as another secret. one that could probably ruin your relationship with him. you see, you weren’t just a fan of his streams before. you were more of a stalker to be precise. every single thing he had done online, you had seen, read, watched, and memorized it. you practically knew everything about what he had made public online.

a bit strange, you would admit, but you rationalized it with love. but you wanted your relationship with scaramouche more than your fear for him to find out. so, you planned to see him in person. that day would be engraved in your mind forever.

seeing him out under the grey skies, orange, yellow, and brown leaves drifting to the ground. you had met your autumn love.

two months would go by quickly in your relationship with scaramouche. but lately things seemed off with him. he stopped inviting you over, didn’t reply much while you were attending your college classes, and overall seemed disinterested in you whenever you played games together. the anxiety of what was wrong was eating you up inside, as he always dismissed the question when you’d bring it up. but tonight you couldn’t do it anymore. the silence, the dismissing, it was all too much.

“please tell me what’s wrong, scara. i’m scared.” you spoke quietly into your mic as you clicked on your inventory in minecraft. you watched scaramouche’s character pause as silence was heard on his end. “i’m sorry (y/n).” he spoke softly, his character now afk. “it’s just, my ex messaged me recently and it’s really shaken me up.” he spoke into his mic. a moment later, a bloop came from your discord as scaramouche sent you a screenshot of the conversation. in the screenshot, it was a long paragraph of his ex explaining how she regretting hurting him and knew what she did was wrong. the same ex who had cheated on him and left him for a more popular streamer in his streamer company: fatui. as you finished reading the conversation you couldn’t help but notice how the scroll bar was a lot higher thea the bottom of the scroll bar, he had talked a lot more to her than he was willing to show you. the thought made you sick.

“i wish you would’ve just blocked her instead of feeding into it.” you mumbled.

“you don’t understand.” scaramouche flatly said before hanging up. you stared at the empty discord call, and then the “scarax has left the server” minecraft notification moments later. you sighed, clicking the server closed. you began typing a lengthy apology to scaramouche about how you were inconsiderate and wrong for what you had said. your message would be ignored for 3 days as you left more messages that would be ignored. on the third day he gave you an abrupt apology for not responding, just to ask if you’d like to hangout on a game together. you blinked at the interaction. was this meant to be your new normal? his silence and nothing to retaliate it for the sake of things being okay?

you swallowed hard as you agreed to his invitation. you would spend another half month in this treatment. his silence would last days with no remorse. scaramouche was known for being someone who thrived in being alone. his time away from you only solidified it.

“scara, we should talk.” you spoke into your mic a month later from the first time you had said this phrase. “what is it?” he asked, a tinge of annoyance in his voice. “it’s just, i don’t think i can do this. we can be friends but i can’t pretend like this relationship is okay. and i know you won’t change and i won’t ask you to. so i just want to end this.” you spoke rapidly into your microphone, afraid of his response.

“you lying fucking bitch.” scaramouche seethed into your ears. you stayed quiet as he shot out insult after insult. “you said you wouldn’t leave me no matter what. you promised. even after i told you about bal. you’re so fucking selfish. you’re only thinking of yourself.” he paused, “i’ll come over to get my stuff in a few days.” he spoke flatly before hanging up. you didn’t utter a word as you closed out the applications on your desktop.

you sat there idly, staring at your now black monitor. it was only to open a conversation, you didn’t mean for it to end so abruptly.

you quietly got into bed that night. he had blocked you on all socials by the time you woke up, so you blocked him back in response to the now visible disdain for one another. disdain you didn’t even feel.

three nights would pass before his knock came to your door. not a word was said as you went back in your room to collect the box of his belongings that you had gathered in the 3 days since the breakup.

scaramouche held a box containing your belongings. he walked into your living room, noting all of the details he would soon forget about you. as he set the box down on your sofa, he noticed your phone light up.

glancing at your door, he made sure you weren’t coming as he inserted your passcode into your phone. of course he knew your password, he was your boyfriend three days ago after all. he quickly opened and closed several apps, until he pressed on your gallery. he scrolled through hundreds and hundreds of screenshots of content of himself, things he didn’t know were even publicly online. he found your notepad of all of the known places he had gone to in your city, dating back to your fangirl days.

scaramouche slammed your phone down in disgust, alerting you from your bedroom. you walked over with the box in your hands, wondering what the loud noise was. scaramouche scoffed loudly, snatching the box from your grip. “you’re a fucking freak. stay the fuck away from me.” he spat before leaving, slamming the door behind him.

you walked over to what had been slammed on your coffee table, your phone. a long crack across your screen was the first thing you noticed, before turning your attention to what exactly was on your screen. all of the recently opened apps were left on some sort of documentation you had taken of scaramouche during your fangirl days. you didn’t meant to be weird. not really. you just wanted to bump into him and hopefully have a relationship with him, not even romantically, but a friendship.

your phone started dinging with notifications, twitter notifications coming up one after another. you tapped on the notification to see you had been tagged in a post by none other than scaramouche.

scarax: @(y/n)^_^ is a stalker freak. everything was a lie.

oh. oh.

mnxia: @(y/n)^_^ you’re acc such a freak for stalking scaramouche

hrtshapes: @(y/n)^_^ no way..

hundreds more notifications popped up on your phone. you quickly set all of your public accounts private. muting app notifications completely as you sat at your desk. so many thoughts raced through your head. your up and coming streaming channel was already starting to get a little popular, but that was all gone now. your whole online persona was tainted, ruined.

you sigh heavily, knowing you’d have to part with it. nothing you could do or say would make the situation any better. it looked bad. maybe it was bad.

a few hours after scaramouche’s tweet went out, all of your accounts were either deactivated or gone completely.

scaramouche scoffed as he tapped on your deactivated twitter account. you ran, just as he knew you would. he knew you wouldn’t have said anything in retaliation to his tweet, you knew better than that. but that didn’t stop him from looking through your mutuals following lists to make sure you hadn’t made a new account.

you spent the next two months in silence, away from any type of internet community. while you quietly browsed and logged things on your private accounts. scaramouche used the few public accounts you used, posting pictures of your steam, trying to add your friends on WoL through stat tracker sites.

that didn’t stop the tweets either, every other week he would vague tweet about you, or something you had ruined for him. the world had sided and sympathized with scaramouche.

luckily for you, two months later and the buzz of scaramouche’s ex stalker was no longer a topic at all. his feed was now void of any mention of you. so, you took advantage of this opportunity and created a twitter for your new self. you followed your mutual mutuals back, but kept the account as low profile as possible. you didn’t even have your name in the display name, just an emoji to represent your tweets.

it didn’t take long for scaramouche to notice the sudden arrival of a new account following all of the people he knew you were friendly with. but he didn’t make it known that he knew, not really. at most, he would tweet out one of your tweets, word for word. people would reply to these tweets as if they were his own.

you took note of this as well on a burner account you had made in your absence, only following art and game accounts to keep up with the latest news. you frowned, seeing your same tweet on his feed. “if he hates me so much why does he watch me.” you mumbled under your breath as you closed out twitter.

you didn’t say anything related to him ever, your own personal rule. while you knew he watched you, at the very least he didn’t directly interact with you. he had your public account blocked despite the copying of tweets. but he left you alone. for that, you were grateful.

your account would go on to steadily grow in numbers, 100, 200, 300, and finally 400. only two hundred below scaramouche. for your 600th tweet and 400th follow you decided to post a picture of your cat in a silly hat you had gotten her while you were offline. your mutual, on a private account, tweeted a reply of her cat in response to the picture. “so cute 🤍” you replied to the picture.

hours later, your mutual would go on to post a private account requesting her account.

> @wanderingcat requested your account

> ew gross! total stalker account!

your breath hitched in your throat as you read over the username. wandering, cat. scaramouche’s old usernames had previously been wandering samurai, wandering hat. and cats, well, he looked just like one. and you had always let him know it.

you messaged your mutual, telling her about your history with him, and the reason why she had even been requested. because of you. scaramouche could not let go of you.

your mutual sent you screenshots of her telling him off, calling him a creep for still being so insistent on his knowledge of you. the screenshots made you laugh but you couldn’t help but notice his defense, as if nothing was wrong with what he was doing.

no word of you would ever be posted on his page though, everything looked normal. as it always had been. but the thought still weight heavily on you. he hadn’t done this since the initial breakup, it was now months later. why did he request her account? just because she replied to your post? you couldn’t let these burning questions go, so the next monday you found yourself in his doorway.

you knocked on the door, gripping your bag in your arm. the cold winter weather helped ease your nerves with the breeze against the trees.

it took a few moments before you heard his door unlatch, his bewildered expression surprising you.

“hey, scaramouche. are you busy?” you asked.

“why? what do you want?” you replied coldly. his glare made you feel small, standing there.

“i just want to talk. and finish things once and for all.”

“i considered it done when you ended it that friday.”

friday. you had forgotten what day of the week it was when it happened.

“but if it was completely done to you. then this wouldn’t still be happening, would it?”

scaramouche sucked his teeth, moving aside to let you into his apartment. nothing had changed since the last time you had been here. almost like nothing had happened at all.

“look, i’ll stop requesting your friends if that’s what you want. is there anything else i can do for you ma’am?” he retorted, leaning against his kitchen countertop.

an ironic thing to say really, as you had a gap in age with scaramouche.

“it’s not just that.” you mumbled, trying to get your thoughts together. the last few days, you had thought of something. but now that you were in front of him, asking if he would commit to your idea felt like a shot in the dark.

you had thought to befriend him, so this would all stop. the subtweeting, the stalking, the adding of your friends accounts. and despite what you were willing to admit, you wouldn’t mind being around him again. some days it felt so lonely that all you wanted to do was scream into your pillows and sulk in bed.

maybe he felt that same suffocating sadness. maybe that’s why he kept up with you.

“i understand if you don’t agree to this but, i would like to have a do over with you. not a relationship, but a friendship. just to be amicable. and then i’ll leave you alone, i promise. it just doesn’t feel right; leaving things like this.” you paused, looking at your feet. “i never hated you, not after the breakup or even with the tweets. i just hated what you were doing.”

“i hated what you were doing too, but, if we become amicable again, why do you want to leave? i don’t want to be left alone again.” he mumbled, reminding you of his sleepless nights he had once had about his mother and her absence.

how hopeless you were for a connection you had once had. the one thing that would break your circle of nothing. him.

“i won’t go if you don’t want me to. it’s just for your sake, i don’t think you’re too fond of me.”

scaramouche took you in his arms, cradling you in his embrace. “everything that happened deeply hurt me.” he whispered as you nodded. he pulled away from the embrace, he held your face in his hands, looking into your gaze directly.

“but please, give me your honesty. that’s the one thing i ask if i agree to this.”

“i will, i promise.”

you and scaramouche would go on to hangout everyday. both of your socials becoming less active as your days would be taken up with each other. you had come over with drinks in your hand, a very drunk friday night planned ahead for you both. alcohol sloshed in cans were clicked back as the night went on, movies you had brought over being played on his tv.

you never saw scaramouche in such a tender way. he was holding onto you in any way he could with each drink that passed into his system. you let yourself have that closeness to him for the night. it’s not like you’d remember it, anyway.

you had missed him, this close connection.

but after that weekend, everything had stopped, he’d stopped replying to your texts, his social media gone silent as well. you frowned, what had you done wrong?

you didn’t push him any further, opting to leave him alone. his discord status always stayed at an offline too. something that would stay for a month.

with december coming to an end, scaramouche’s birthday was coming up. january 3rd. though you weren’t talking, he was still someone you wanted to remember fondly. so, that weekend you went around to his streamer friends houses, gathering signatures for a card you’d present to him. everyone that signed had the same question, just who were you? you simply excused it with “just a friend.”

you wrote a personal note in a separate card, meant from you to him, and packaged them both up in decorated envelopes which you had drawn on. december 2nd came around, which meant you’d be making your midnight trip to his house.

pulling on your boots, you made sure to secure everything in your bag before you made the walk there. your boots crunched underneath the powdery white snow, evidence of this cold winter. while you walked, you thought of the last month that you hadn’t spoken to him. your month of patching things up felt like a brief but eventful time together. and you couldn’t fathom why he had decided to part from it.

you figured this would be your last interaction with him. he wanted nothing to do with you, you figured, from his constant disappearances. so, you’d give him one last gift before parting with him for good.

you had promised him, after all. and unlike him, you would make good on that promise.

the promise came with one of your drunken night’s together. through slurred words, scaramouche had told you how he had nothing planned for his birthday as he never felt he was worthy of a celebration for his life. with his mother taking off as soon as she could, he never saw much value in himself.

through quiet mumbles, you made him a drunken promise. you doubted he’d even remember it, but you still did. so here you were now, clutching two envelopes in your hand as you knocked on his door.

checking your phone, you noted the 2 minutes until midnight, hearing sounds coming from behind the door. scaramouche’s expression of exhaustion turned into one of surprise. here you were, once again. in the middle of the night?

“(y/n)? what time is it?” scaramouche yawned.

you shook your head, presenting him the envelopes. he took them from your hands, his eyes scanning over the little doodles and details you had drawn on them.

“happy birthday.” you replied, ready to turn away to return to your life. but he stopped you.

“(y/n)? why don’t you come in.” he said softly towards your turning back.

you smiled to yourself before turning around and following him inside. “okay.”

a/n: i didn’t mean to make this a two part story but i already feel like it’s very long so.. this will eventually be a 3 part series. i’m very sorry that i haven’t posted in awhile, i just haven’t felt much motivation to write with everything that was going on. everything going on being.. this. i haven’t written in a very long time so i apologize if my writing style seems different than before. i was also high for 3/4 of me writing this so there’s that. i’ll post part two very soon as i’m currently still living in part 3 ^_^

taglist: @samarill @whorerificstuff @somatchajade @sakiimeo @astrolomona @dearsumire @saeism @shoheartluv @0kauy @lelemnh @aqualesha @msdevilis @linkookie197 @beriiov @xiaonscaraswife @foxlover1144 @reblog-crazily @sparklylanddetective @gh0sts0up @darliingyu @magica-ren @kuronvshi @Maxineslair @kenmabfasf @atanukileaf @jihyuniepark @chiisananingen @just-anotherbookworm @kleeboomed @crepezinhos

#genshin angst #genshin x reader #genshin x reader angst #scaramouche x y/n #scaramouche x you #scara x y/n #scaramouche x reader #genshin scara #scara x reader #scaramouche #scaramouche angst #scaramouche angst x reader #scaramouche x reader angst

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justpoliteconversations · 9 months ago

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Apple Merchant [BOTW!Link x Isekai!Reader] (Part 5)

You spend more money. And Link becomes a local legend.

I was intending on working on a different piece tonight, but the continuous notifications for Apple Merchant keeps reminding me of how much I want to write on it. And then the self-indulgent whispers start seeping into my brain and here we are. Enjoy your ill-gotten gains, Lurkers.

Part 1 / 2 / 3 / 4 / 5 / 6

Alternate Extras: Embrace

Masterlist

TW: Choosing not to display warnings. Read at your own discretion.

Disclaimer: Don't own The Legend of Zelda franchise.

---

Lurelin village. A beautiful little coastal town southwest of Hateno with just the right amount of sun and water to make any would-be visitor green with envy. Except no one ever mentioned the humidity (enough to drown someone in their sleep, you swear by it), the lizalfos infestation (something the game got right in concept, but wrong in scale) and the sand. The Goddess forsaken sand. The damned (neverending, grit in your teeth, tears in your eyes, gravel in your lungs) sand that got into everything.

So, no, Lurelin was beautiful and you'd thought once that maybe you'd get a house there (or maybe just plan a vacation). But you'd quickly been rid of the notion the moment you'd stepped foot onto the warm, picturesque beachfront property. Taken a deep, appreciative breath of the fresh, salty air. And then was promptly tackled out of the way of an oncoming spear by Skims (bless that man) as Adino put a pair of arrows into a lizalfos' hissing, gaping maul.

The face full of sand you'd gotten after being pile-driven into the ground just added to the experience. In the worst way possible. It had taken days for your mouth to feel clean of the unpleasant grit of sand grains and your eyes to stop tearing and burning in irritation. If not for Skim's constant care and Adino forcibly holding your hands away from your face when the pain became too much, you could have walked away with far worse than bad memories and a new distaste for sand.

That was the day you decided Lurelin would not be a place you'd be spending any significant amount of time in. No matter how friendly the locals or tasty the food or beautiful the ocean views. It just wasn't worth it. Not to you, at least. Maybe in another lifetime, it would have been a dream to strive towards. But not here. Not now.

You still had moments of unease when you think of what could have happened had Skim's not been so close (as he's always been, and as you'll hopefully always have him). And those moments were more potent when you were in the small village. Keeping you ever on edge and always within sight of your trusted guards.

So, one might ask why you'd chosen to go to that very village when you could go anywhere in southern Hyrule. In fact, (in those whispering moments of weakness) you'd ask yourself that very same question. Especially as you trudged miserably through the thick, muggy afternoon heat with Adino at your back and Skims on point (who knows where Red went. but it wasn't your business and so you dismissed the thought entirely).

The answer? Shock arrows. An unholy amount of shock arrows. Enough to break the purse of the average merchant three times over. And possibly put their children in debt too. And possibly their horse.

It's a good thing you weren't a common merchant.

"Good afternoon, Ms. Mubs." You called in friendly greeting as you set foot onto the dock, casting away your (unease) irritation and slipping into your business persona effortlessly. "Fair weather on the seas I hope?"

Pleasantries were exchanged, the latest information traded (Adino was feigning irritation as he eavesdropped, but you could see the way his eyes and ears flickered with amusement and surprise at the appropriate times. Skims was window shopping, eyeing some of the more exotic fish with open curiosity) and you ended up selling several thousand rupees worth of product to the woman. Fresh produce mostly, but also quite a few ores. Such things were always in high demand in Lurelin. Ores especially, as most coastal deposits were notoriously difficult to mine with the lizalfos infestation so prominent.

More workers died mining along the beach than to storms out at sea. And that's a very unsettling thought, given the ratio of miners to sailors in a seafaring village (of all places). Crunch the numbers, and becoming a miner in Lurelin was equivalent to a death sentence. And the general population knew that.

(It explained why crime rates were so low in Lurelin, when mining was the manual labor criminals were made to do.)

Passing off the last of Mubs' purchase to her, you waited patiently for the woman to finish storing away her newly acquired goods before speaking. "I have a large order request." You said, letting a small, costumer service smile slip onto your lips. And maybe that kind of smile was something that transcended worlds, or maybe Mubs just knew you, but she immediately looked wary (by the way she narrowed her eyes, it was probably the former. maybe).

She gestured for you to continue, and you did with cool (pained) confidence. "I need as many shock arrows as you can afford to part with." She started to gesture towards her arrow display, but you shook your head and she paused. "I need below deck inventory. Everything you've got."

Her brows shot to her hairline, incredulous as she cautioned. "Quite the order. Surely not even The Apple Merchant would part with so much rupee." You kept your smile (even and blank and you were quietly screaming inside), and she sighed. "'Course you would." She sighed again, harder, wiping the sweat from her brow before gesturing for you to follow. "Come on then. Lets see if we can't break yer infamous smile a bit, ya?"

You kept that smile. All through the walk across the rickety old docks, the bustling harbor and straight down into the musty bowels of a weathered looking ship. One guarded by no less than five full grown men. All through the talks with the big boss you kept your lips steadily pleasant and upturned. Right on through the exchange of rupees (even Mubs looked ill at the quoted amount, casting you a questioning, pitying glance as she clicked her teeth), and all the way back to shore.

Right up until the moment you collapsed into your (extra, super soft, not for you Adino you prickly jerk) inn bed, rolled over so your back was to Adino and Skims (who looked expectant and amused and far too smug for your liking) and stared at the wall with that same smiling, blank expression.

And then, slowly. You put your face into the sinfully soft pillow. And screamed.

"Damnit Link! Why do you cost me so much money when you're not even here?"

Skims laughed with his entire belly at your outburst, and Adino smirked, hiding his face to the side as a few rouge chuckles escaped him.

A wordless, muffled bellow was all they got back in exchange.

---

Link stared at the truly mind-boggling number of shock arrows that'd appeared in his inventory. 6800, to be exact. Which to some may not seem like an especially outrageous number, but to Link (who usually found items in the single digits) it was a truly unfathomable number to comprehend, let alone contend with. But that didn't mean he wasn't going to take full advantage of his (thoughtful, kind, wond-) generous AM's meticulous foresight to destroy the local monster population. With feeling (so much intense, pent up feeling).

He'd take every ounce of his frustration (his blood boiling, fist clenching, teeth grinding anger) and pour it all into destroying his enemies. His worry at AM's absence from his side. His displeasure at Ms. Blue's condescending and secretive (and kind too, for all she was withholding information from him. information he'd bleed for) smiles.

And especially his rage at those Goddess forsaken, Ganon worshipping, traitorous Yiga who ruined his chance to thank AM properly for their presence in his life (because he doesn't know where he'd be if not for them. and honestly, he never wants to find out).

He'd take all those emotions and channel it into something productive. Something beneficially destructive.

So, destroy the monster population he did. And how generous of the Goddesses, to have brought him to a land of eternal rain to begin his crash course in violence-fueled stress relief. With shock arrows.

It is said amongst the general Zora population (the more outspoken poetic ones at least) that when the Returned Hero of Hyrule made his ascendance through the Domain, night became day and the land was cleansed of all things foul that would stand before him. A miracle in the flesh. He who brings the light and sun to the land of rain.

And really, they weren't wrong. For the most part.

But for those who saw this supposed miracle for themselves. They all had but one thought.

'Thank the Goddesses it's not me he's pissed at.'

---

Back to the shadows to rest.

#botw x reader #botw link #link x you #link x reader #isekai reader

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mcytfanfictionappreciationweek · 1 year ago

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Runs from January 21st to January 27th, 2024

7 days of fanfiction appreciation for all our fandom writers!

Everyone from all corners of MCYTblr are welcome to participate. No matter how large or small your favorite SMP or creator is, there is a space for everyone.

Many fandom events focus on providing tasks for artists and writers, but very little are made with the people who enjoy and appreciate that work in mind as participants. Lurkers and enjoyers and love posters are just as important to the fandom, so this is a space for us to do our thing and spread the love 💗

How to Participate

There will be 3 kinds of planned activities hosted on this blog, but there is no single correct way to participate, as long you’re uplifting others. The activities and prompts are meant to be a guideline and source of inspiration. You don’t have to burn yourself out by participating every day or in every activity.

Keep this space positive and abide by standard fandom etiquette. Be mindful of tags and if you don’t think you’ll like a work, don’t click and read it!

Share the love; one goal of this challenge is to help authors who’ve been overlooked feel appreciated for their contribution to the fandom. If you’re up to it, try and use this challenge as a way to break from your comfort zone and uplift others who you haven’t seen get any attention yet.

Note: This doesn’t mean to not send love to any ‘bigger authors’ whose work you admire, and we are not entertaining any discourse related to the size of one’s following.

Use the tag ‘mcytfanficappreciationweek’ for your recommendation lists related to this event and we will reblog them here!

Activities

(Under the cut!)

Reading and Recommendation Challenge

Find a fic that fits the theme of the day and give it a read/comment! Then if you’re up for it, share the recommendation in a post on tumblr and use the event tag. You can make individual posts for each day, or create a wrap-up at the end of the week.

It is both allowed and encouraged to engage with fics whose authors don’t have any linked social media presence. This is not exclusive to authors on tumblr.

January 21st (Day 1: Something New)

Read and comment on a fic written by an author whose work you’ve never commented on before

January 22nd (Day 2: Hidden Gems)

Read and comment on a fic that currently has no comments

Or, feel free to share and recommend a fic whose only comment is your own

January 23rd (Day 3: Underrated Blorbos)

Read and comment on a fic centered on a character of whom you’ve never read as a main POV (the less fics the character is tagged in, the better!)

January 24th (Day 4: Rarepair Extravaganza)

Read and comment on a fic with a character relationship tag (that’s central to the fic, no cheating with ensembles!) that has less than 500 tagged works

For fandoms with <1000 works, use 50 tagged works as a threshold (or your best judgment)

For fandoms with <100 works, use 5 tagged works as a threshold (or your best judgment)

Can be either romantic (using the “/”) or platonic (using the “&”)

January 25th (Day 5: A Blast from the Past)

Read and comment on a fic that was last updated before 2023 (complete or in progress!)

January 26th (Day 6: Canon? Who is she?)

Read and comment on a fic with any ‘Alternate Universe’ tag of your choosing

Canon divergent fics or split timelines count!

January 27th (Day 7: Procrastination Termination)

Read and comment on a fic that you’ve had ‘saved for later’ or opened in a new tab but never got to reading

Or, finish catching up to a multichapter fic that you fell behind on and comment on it

Author Interaction

Send authors who are active on tumblr questions about their work! Ideas/prompts for each day are written below.

January 21st (Day 1: Something New)

Ask an author about future writing projects or ideas that still only exist in their head

January 22nd (Day 2: Hidden Gems)

Ask an author about one of their least-kudosed fics

January 23rd (Day 3: Underrated Blorbos)

Ask an author about something they’re excited or passionate about

January 24th (Day 4: Rarepair Extravaganza)

Ask an author about one of their favorite ships (romantic or just a platonic relationship!)

January 25th (Day 5: A Blast from the Past)

Ask an author about past fandoms they may have participated in or their journey as a fic writer in general

January 26th (Day 6: Canon? Who is she?)

Ask an author about an AU or headcanon of theirs

January 27th (Day 7: Procrastination Termination)

Ask an author about their writing process

Love Posting

Too shy to reach out to someone you admire directly? Write them an anonymous message in our inbox and we will post it and tag their blog for you! (Please be sure to include their blog name so we know who to tag).

Note: If we suspect that your message is back-handed or being hateful towards another group in the community, it will be deleted. If you believe your message was deleted in error, feel free to send this blog a DM about it.

And finally…. If you are an author remember that even if you don’t receive a message or new readers during the course of this event, you are still a valued member of this community. With the size of our fandom, it is impossible to give every single author their due recognition. You are appreciated for your contribution to this fandom, and every fic that is written makes our fandom a more vibrant, wonderful place to be. We love you for the time and effort you put in the art of your creation and we are privileged that you choose to share it for us to enjoy!

#mcyt #mcytblr #mcytblrsource #mcyt fanfiction #hermitcraft #dsmp #traffic smp #qsmp #empires smp #origins smp #pirates smp

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entomolog-t · 8 months ago

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Random post, but its been on my mind for weeks now. I get lots of asks talking about people being lurkers in the g/t world, or when people finally dive in, lots of us mention just lurking around the community for years. At the end of the day, it's your comfort level, and all the power to you, but let me do my lil car salesman pitch to any lurkers who happen upon this.

The g/t community is small. I see fantastic art on here that will get 200-400 notes, maybe break 1000 if you're lucky. Writing? Typically under 100 notes, with the occasionally popular story getting a little more. On any given one it's usually just a handful of comments, if that. I've seen a lot of amazing creators come and go, just feeling like "What's the point?" Or that they're shouting into a void.

Your participation in a community, regardless of if you create or not, brings with it that little boost of appreciation and support. In such a small community, you're able to engage with creators far easier than in larger spaces. I remember just reading and saving pictures to my phone years ago. Just casually enjoying g/t by myself and thinking that was all I wanted. But there's nothing like actively participating- making friends, having people build on your little ideas, and being able to tell creators how much you enjoy their stuff.

We've all been lurkers, but just know that if and when you're ready to interact, people will be happy just to have you here.

#ive seen a lot of new gt accounts lately and it makes me smile #g/t community

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whore4abby · 1 year ago

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heyyyy vannyyyyyy i love u sm i promise i'm not being a lurker

what abt model reader and abby at like a designers party (yk the devil wears prada 👀)

i'm too obsessed with everything u write is there like a support group or something for whore4abby addicts

ferny fern ur brain !! this idea is so yummy 😵‍💫 i love u MORE !! thank u for this hope u don’t mind me switching it up a lil mwah mwah !! NO ONE would join that damn support group bffr wrote this at 3am let’s not talk abt it

high fashion;

kinda a part two of this !!

warnings; smut - sex in a public bathroom, strap-on usage (r!receiving), choking (with abby’s tie), mdni

wc; 1.7k

“abs…c’mon, baby…we gotta leave in a few minutes.” you call out to your wife who’s spent the last 30 minutes making sure she looks absolutely perfect, not one hair out of place in her braid, making sure her new tux was absolutely spotless.

“i’m coming, doll…gimme a minute.” she calls out softly and you laugh and roll your eyes playfully at her antics. the ongoing joke that she spends way more time getting ready than you do slowly but surely starting to become a reality.

you smooth out the fabric of your almost sheer, black satin dress and slip on your jimmy choo heels, grabbing your purse from the dresser before looking up just as abby walks out from the bathroom. you swear you feel your eyes turn into little heart shapes as you see her.

she looks nothing short of absolutely perfect in her sleek, tailored black tux paired with her shiny black dress shoes, her muscular forearms filling out the sleeves of her suit jacket and her long hair slicked back from her face. you're absolutely smitten as you rush over to press your lips against hers repeatedly, “god, you’re so pretty…” you sigh, words coming out as a breathless whisper as you press your face against her chest, closing your eyes and breathing in her familiar scent.

before you know it you’re gathered in a spacious studio for a small, intimate gathering of some couture designers to showcase their new up-coming works. you’re surrounded by mannequins displaying gorgeous designer clothes, along with an assortment of clothes scattered around the room, from elegant ballgowns to sophisticated suit jackets.

the windows are covered in velvet drapes, allowing a small amount of natural moonlight to flood the room. everyone whispering discreetly amongst themselves, scanning the surroundings and taking in all the lavish clothing and glittering accessories.

you wander off away from abby for a little while, you’re quietly minding your own business checking out some artist sketches that are carefully hung up on the wall when you feel a presence beside you. “beautiful aren’t they?” a heavily accented voice causes you to look away from the framed pictures and you turn your head to see a familiar italian designer.

“yeah…they’re gorgeous! are they for the new spring-summer collection?” you query, you head tilting curiously in his direction. “yes, that’s correct…these pieces should be out within the next couple of months.” he smirks and leans in closer to you.

“i was actually just thinking about you.” he places a hand on your shoulder and you resist the urge to shudder in disgust. “oh, please…i’m not that special.” you force a stiff laugh and shake your head, after all this time you still find it hard to believe that you have become a well-known, household named model.

“im serious! i saw you at that runway show a couple weeks ago…and let me say, it’s been driving me crazy ever since. ive been dying to get in contact with you-“ he chuckles, his gaze drifting down towards you body. he takes your hand in his, a cunning smile spreading wide as he leans in to kiss your cheek. you shake his hand curtly before pulling your hand back and jerking your face away from him.

he continues to flirt with you, his eyes finding yours and locking onto them. “perhaps you’d be interesting in catching a drink tonight?” he looks down at your shoulder and casually caresses it with his hand. “my hotel is just a couple blocks away, and i know you’re staying in the city the whole weekend. so whatdya say?”

you start purposely clinking your perfectly polished wedding ring against your half empty champagne glass, hoping he gets the hint. “i’ll actually be busy with my wife….in our own hotel room, thank you very much.”

you catch a glimpse of abby across the room, she instantly feels a pang of jealousy as she watches him openly flirt with her girl practically right in front of her face.

her brow begins to furrow and she discreetly ends the conversation she’s having and makes her way over to you, she obviously saw the guy kiss you, and she’s clearly not happy about it.

you watch his smile falter a little at the mention of your wife, and he directs his gaze towards abby as she approaches, obviously intimidated by her height and stature. “everything okay, my love?” she asks, her eyes still watching the designer. you lean in to kiss her briefly before pulling away and nodding, wrapping your arm around her bicep.

he finally gets the hint and laughs, taking a step or two back. “hmm, well isn’t that a shame?” he says with a grin. he turns to walk away, before stopping and turning back to face you. “well if you ever want to get in touch, here’s my card.” he holds out a small business card with his details on it and smiles at you, abby quickly pushes his hand away and speaks in a passive-aggressive manner, “my wife and i won’t be needing that, thank you.”

he laughs cockily, obviously slightly amused before turning on his heel and walking off to probably shamelessly flirt with another married woman.

abby leans into you, resting her head against yours, taking the champagne flute out of your hand and placing it on a nearby silver side-table. her eyes still watching the designer as he saunters away. “i don’t like how he was looking at you, darling.”

you roll your eyes at her comment, giggling slightly. “babe, calm down,” you say, squeezing her hand. you look over at her and smirk at her. “but you’re really the only one who i’ve got my eyes on, okay?”

“you’re mine…all fuckin mine~” her voice is rough, and she still can’t shake her jealousy from that designer looking at you. abby leans in and kisses you on the neck, her lips gently sucking and nibbling at the sensitive skin.

abby smiles wickedly at you, before grabbing you by the hand and quickly dragging you to the back of the boutique. you find yourself in a fancy, private bathroom and abby quickly locks the door behind you. she pulls you in for a heated kiss and you can feel her firm body pressing against yours.

abby’s tongue gently plays against yours, her hands caressing your face and your body, slowly pulling you closer to her. she bites down on your bottom lip slightly, but not hard enough to hurt you.

she pulls away for a second before diving back in, kissing you passionately and with more force than before. “all mine~” she whispers in your ear, her breath hot on your neck, her fingers finding their way down to hike your dress up over you ass, bending you over in the sink counter.

you hear the zipper of her pants being yanked down and the rusting of her shirt being untucked before she pulls your panties off your body and discards them onto the floor before nudging your legs apart with her knee.

you whine as she swipes the tip of the strap-on through your sticky folds, gathering up your slick before pressing the head of the dildo against your slit. “say it…tell me who's the only one who gets you this wet~” she pushes in slowly, groaning at the sight of your pussy greedily taking her cock. “you, abs…fuucck- only you!”

she thrusts herself fully inside without warning, all seven inches of black silicone right up to the hilt making you cry out, feeling every vein and ridge flush against the walls of your cunt. the stinging stretch causing your face to contort in a mixture of pleasure and pain as she pulls out until just the tip remains inside, then slams back in. she roughly manhandles you, slamming you back on her cock. “nnhhggg…a-abby~”

you hear her fumbling with something before you suddenly feel pressure around your throat, the silky material of her tie digs into your neck as she wraps it around your throat and yanks you back to make eye contact with her in the mirror. “look at me while im fucking you, yeah?” she growls through gritted teeth, her eyes dark and filled with jealousy fueled lust.

you’re gripping onto the marble counter so hard that your knuckles are starting to lose their colour, strangled moans leaving your lips, the perfectly applied lipstick now smudged around your mouth in messy splotches.

she drops the tie onto the counter and you gasp for some much needed air. she snakes her free hand down to rub at your clit lazily as she snaps her hips into yours at an eye-rolling pace. “a-abby! oohhh…my god…fuck…” the fingers of her unoccupied hand dig into your hip, holding you in place as she starts to pound into you relentlessly, the sound of flesh slapping against flesh echoing in the small bathroom.

she groans, picking up the pace, the friction from the harness against her clit making her moans grow louder and more desperate, hips grinding into you in-between thrusts as she chases her own release.

you thighs start to clench and shake as her pace picks up even more, leaving you gasping and grabbing at any surface you can find to ground yourself. “you feel that? only i can make you cum like this, yeah?” you’re babbling incoherently as the the head of her cock keeps bumping into that sweet spot until it has you letting out a loud pleading cry as you cum on her cock.

she keeps thrusting, prolonging your release as she helps you ride out your own orgasm, her thick fingers digging into your hips hard enough to bruise.

“fuuccckk~” she pants heavily, leaning forward to rest her head against your back, the harness still grinding against her clit and making her cum hard whilst still buried inside you.

she lets out a loud groan as she pulls out with a pop, looking down at the mess between your legs and the cum dripping from your clenching cunt. you turn back to face her and she brings your mouths together in a brief, heated kiss before pulling away and carefully helping you clean yourself up.

she tucks her strap-on back into her pants and neatens her tux up before picking up your discarded panties and shoving them into her pocket before holding her arm out for you to take. “c’mon, baby~” her chivalrous action a stark contrast to the way she just fucked you into oblivion not even five minutes ago.

you smile coyly, adjusting your dress and grabbing onto her forearm as she leads you out of the bathroom and back out into the main studio space, not even caring about the skeptical looks and the un-approving stares of the people around you.

an; model!reader has me in an absolute chokehold right now😵‍💫if u have any ideas for more PLSSS leave me a request !!!!

#*ੈ✩‧₊˚ ⋆.ೃ࿔myfics⌨️#⋆｡˚ ੈ✩‧₊˚requests🫙#abby anderson #abby tlou #tlou abby #abby anderson x reader #abby anderson x you #abby the last of us #abby x reader #abby anderson x female reader #abby anderson smut #abby x fem!reader #abby anderson x fem reader #abby x you #abby anderson x y/n

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cyarikasmoon · 8 months ago

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Rest Now

Bad Batch Hunter x reader

Summary: Hunter returns home after saying goodbye to Omega. *Set just after the Season 3 epilogue scene*

Pairing: Bad Batch Hunter x f!reader

Word Count: 1,539

Warnings: Bad Batch Season 3 spoilers, married Hunter, older hunter, fluff, comfort, cuddles, HUNTER DESERVES LOTS OF CUDDLES AND KISSES

Divider by @freesie-writes & @snotbuggle

A/N: I truly adore this show and just wanted to write a little piece for Hunter. He did so well and is such a good father figure for Omega. That epilogue meant everything to me. I wish we saw older Crosshair and Wrecker, but I'm also quite glad it was a final moment between those two. It was always meant to be them. I will love and cherish them forever.

I hope you all like this. It's a little rough and rushed, and it's just raw emotions being processed onto a page after the finale, but I still wanted to post! Enjoy! x

It’s almost sunrise when you wake up. You sleepily reach out, cold underneath the sheets, and you realise the familiar warmth of your husband is gone. Your eyes blink open with a frown as you pat the bed, almost to make sure he is actually gone. Sitting up in the bed, you blink blearily, taking in the room. It’s dark, but your eyes adjust quickly, the faint lighting of a new day approaching helping you see the dimly lit room. You roll over the bed gently, and you see his boots are gone, and his overshirt that he had left hanging over the edge of the bed last night.

The entire house is quiet, which almost makes you confident that Batcher is gone as well. You let out a soft whistle, a quick two-tone note. Nothing like the loud army shrill your husband does to call the lurker hound. When there is no distant sound of barking, no heavy pads of paws on the ground, you sigh softly.

Gently getting out of bed, you move to pull on your trousers and the quickest shirt being one of his thick, long sleeved ones. As you slip it on, you breathe in the smell of him and let your shoulders sag. It wasn’t normal for him to be gone this early. His side of the bed had been cold when you had felt it. He had been gone for hours. At least Batcher would be with him. You hope, anyway.

Pulling on a quick small pair of boots, she moves towards the door but pauses by the window as she hears voices outside. As she peers out, she sees Wrecker and Crosshair standing talking. Crosshair is almost silent with his words, speech always raspy and quiet but sharp. Wrecker, thinking he was being quiet, was still quite loud. But the early morning rays indicated it wasn't long till the residents of Pabu would awaken.

Crosshair strokes his chin gently, fingers brushing over the soft wisps of grey turning white hair. His hair finally growing back in revealed it to now finally be more silver white than the original grey it used to be back in the days of the Republic. Wrecker still stands tall, and the body is still accumulating so much muscle, but he looks softer, rounder. Years of enjoying and actually living life and eating good food. His lips are drawn into a tight line from where you can see, his jaw covered in a soft wiry fuzz of scruff - the start of a beard that is accentuated with fine white hairs now amidst the dark ones.

The flurry of quick hand movements between the two have you frowning before you all hear a distant bark. You glance through the window to the right. Coming up over the hill, the rising sun casts light across the path as the old lurker hound ambles up the street. Batcher picks up speed slightly as she spots Crosshair and Wrecker, forever excited to see them. It’s then you see your husband, not too far behind Batcher. He walks slowly, his head down slightly, but he looks up as he spots his brothers.

He seems to stand up straighter then as he notices them, almost instinctively falling back into the roll of Seagerant after so long. Crosshair gets up slowly from where he had knelt down to stroke Batcher, leaving his prosthetic hand to rest on the back of her neck as he faces Hunter. Wrecker’s eyes are full of apprehension as if he knows what Hunter is to tell them, but he desperately doesn't want it to be the case.

When Hunter reaches them, you watch as he simply nods his head and says a few words. The three brothers stand in silence for a moment. Whatever news he had just shared, it brings a sombre moment, but then Wrecker’s smiling. He makes a comment, followed by a booming laugh. Crosshair's face twists up into an amused smirk, and he replies with his own comment. Your husband says something else, and they fall silent for a moment. It’s then Crosshair takes a step forward and rests his hand on Hunter’s shoulder, and they share a look. Before anything can be said, Wrecker envelopes them into his arms, a signature crushing hug from the big man that has them all smiling and reminiscing.

Wrecker puts them down, and they all share a final smile. It’s then the old girl barks, and Crosshair rolls his eyes fondly, the hound sticks to his side, ready for her breakfast. They all seemed to nod and head off in their own separate ways. A new day is beginning after all. As Hunter turns towards your home, you move and gently open the door and lean in the doorway and smile at him.

He glances at you and pauses for a moment, a fond smile on his face before he continues to walk forward to you. Like second instinct, you hold your arms open and let him hold you close and tight against him.

“Hi.” You whisper to him.

“Hey.” He responds softly. His voice reserved slightly, like when he’s lost in thought.

“Hey, come back to me.” You whisper softly, leaning back to cup his tattooed side of his face, fingers brushing over his dark beard.

His eyes tell you everything. They’re tired from being up so early. They’re full of love and adoration for you. They reflect peace. They show sadness. You smile sadly then, as you realise. This is the look of a father who has just had to let go and say goodbye. No matter how much he doesn’t wish for it to be the case.

“Omega?” You ask softly, stepping back, so you both gravitate back into your home.

He nods then. A small smile plays on his lips, his eyes softening.

“She left first thing in the early hours of the morning. Thought she could sneak away.” He chuckles, a gruff noise in his throat.

“She spoke about the Rebellion so often. It was only a matter of time before she would want to go help.” You stroke his cheek as you watch his melancholic expression.

“I know…” He breaks away so he can sit and take his boots off, and you do the same. You both leave them by the door, and he rises to stand in front of you again.

You hold your hand to him, and he instantly takes it.

“You’re a wonderful father, Hunter. I know it. Your brothers know it, and Omega knows it.” You whisper to him, taking both of his hands.

His thumbs stroke along your knuckles in a soothing motion for himself and for you. His left thumb focuses on running across your ring. He raises his eyes to look into yours.

“You’ve raised her wonderfully. She is such a bright, beautiful young woman now, and the Rebellion is lucky to have her.” You say and then grin. “You practically prepared her for this.”

He huffs and rolls his eyes fondly at you, lips quirked up into a small smile.

“I was once told battle droids were easier to handle compared to raising a kid.” He muses. “They weren't wrong.”

“Hunter, love, she’ll be fine. She knows you’ll come if you need her.”

“I’d be there in a heartbeat.” He promises, and his voice is so strong and earnest. You could never not believe him. The sergeant shines through in that moment.

You lean forward and kiss him softly, and his hands move to hold you close. Your foreheads then meet in a keldabe kiss, and you smile at him.

“C’mon old man, let's go back to bed for a bit.” You tease him with a grin.

“Who are you calling old man? The days are just starting.” He rolls his eyes and tries to hide his smile.

“And you’ve hardly slept.” You argue back, nudging your forehead against his. “C’mon, a little nap won’t hurt anyone.”

You lead him to the bedroom and smile as you help him take his overshirt off and drape it back over the edge of the bed. Laying down, he holds you close in his arms and still keeps his eyes open and watching you.

“You’ve done so good, love.” You whisper and lean forward, pressing gentle kisses across his face. “It’s okay to miss her. It’s normal. We all will miss her. But she’ll be okay. She’ll come back one day. Now you can rest.”

HIs eyes close as he embraces your touch. His breathing relaxes.

“Rest love, I’ve got you.” You whisper as you watch him drift off. “We’ve got you. You can rest now.”

You press a final kiss to his brow, right below his bandana, before you lay your head on the pillow next to him. The sun has risen now. You can hear the residents of Pabu begin their day. Birds in the distance. You swear even without enhanced senses like Hunter, you can hear the ocean. You look at him one final time before your eyes drift close. It’s a new day. They're here and alive. How exciting it is to live. To live and to love. To do whatever they want.

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diejager · 4 months ago

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hiiiiii like i've wanted to send u a request for like a while and i'm so happy i finally got u

i sadly forgot my og idea buuuuuut luckily i got a new one cus i'm bestie besties with a lurker who is like a friend with a writer cus they know each other irl and cus she gave me a lil spoilie

i wanna use like what i was told for dis request

like ik the thing is about a champion/warrior and their god and like it's a certain king being absolutely PATHETIC for like the first one (like ik my opinion cus i luv pathetic men and like i wanna know ur ideas about this)

like i love the idea of cod boys being a god or champion cus like y'know the smut that can be made

so could i request my second fav boy soap or even ghost being a SIMP like full on worshipping their god after hunting for their pretty

LUV u darlin and like KEEP ON writing because i am GOBBLIN up everything u and my other favs make but make sure u also rest

Cw: God/Champion stuff??, inaccurate Greek mythology, worshipping, offering/gifts/sacrifice, oracle, tell me if I missed any. Note: this reminds me of… the name’s on the tip of my tongue, but I can’t remember exactly who wrote about this before. Could you also send me the @ of your writer friend? I’d like to credit them if possible. And thank you! Just make sure to take breaks in between of reading, yeah? You have to rest your eyes every hour or so.

Johnny couldn’t believe his eyes when he stumbled into this small sanctuary outside the sacred precinct, outside any protective walls and guarded cities. Nestled into the side side of a mountain, the marble stones carved intricately in pretty vines and gentle flowers only to be placed in an isolated place. Away from any travellers and warriors, and hidden away from prying eyes of thieves and charlatans. This little, marble shrine made of white marble, painted murals and gold ordained altar - one of the prettiest he’s seen - was left near forgotten, overgrown with fauna and collecting dust.

And despite that, the statue that stood behind the altar, tall and imposing, curves soft and tunic flattering, the Goddess loomed over him with a shadow of warmth and compassion, much unlike the statues of the ruling Gods and Goddesses he was used to —it was ethereal. Your image was one of love and care, a stark dichotomy to the arrogance and self-importance of Zeus and his siblings. You were welcoming towards him when they spurned him for his foreign appearance: a child of slaves that had bought their freedom, a potent sign of determination and strength.

“Perhaps that Oracle wasn’t crazy,” he gawked at the falling leafage, ribbons of round leaves hiding the entrance, parting like a curtain to the main stage of a theatre.

He had tried his luck with the Oracle of Delphi, in a drunken daze that failed to strip him from his embarrassing misadventures around Delphi’s bars and temple. Johnny had wanted to see what all the fuss was about, the mile long travel many made to see her and her prophesies. He wanted to know if she was a true oracle or a scam, a charlatan like many others, but lo and behold, she was blessed with the sight.

He still remembered her words, her words spoken from the Gods’ whims, giving him the blessing of finding a Goddess he would willingly kneel to, one that would show him the same love and devotion he gave. She foretold that he would meet a Goddess of Health and Hunting that he wanted to worship, a give and take cycle —of life and death. And here he stood, before the statue of a benevolent Goddess he knew he already loved.

You were a minor Goddess, able to gift your champions with totems and blessings, but not a miracle. Your sacred temple was warm, the air filled with the scent of fresh spring and dewy mornings, candles miraculously lit, wrapping the room in a golden embrace that felt akin to a mother’s kiss. Johnny’s eyes wandered around the room, taking it in while he walked to the altar, he stared at the dusty and empty marble, a sad sight for a Goddess so warm.

He searched around his belt, looking around his clothes and padded leather for an offering to wake you up. Something simply - anything - would work, if only to rouse you from your slumber, be it a year or a century long sleep, he would wake you and dub himself your champion. He picked a pelt, an apt offering for a Goddess of Health and Hunting. It was freshly skinned and cured, brushed with care and killed with sympathy. He wasn’t a ruthless killer or an avaricious hunter, he took what he needed and left what he didn’t.

Nodding at the brown pelt, he wiped away the dust that had collected and placed it on the marble, taking care to place it flat and straightened the fur. He took a step back to admire the sight, eyes filled with wonder at the sudden glow, bathing him in a calming light. He felt better, his once aching arms gone, his bruises gone and his strength returned. Waking you had brought a blessing, you had healed him of his aches and pains, restoring him to his peak.

“Welcome,” he heard you whisper, your voice sounding like a bird’s song, pretty and awestricking, “Will you become my champion, dear warrior?”

How could he say no at your sweet plea? You were the warmest being he has ever met, your very essence an embrace full of passion.

“If yer wish me so, Goddess.”

“Thank you,” you chuckled and he’d never felt so lovesick before, his heart so full, yet light.

Taglist: @sae1kie @yeoldedumbslut @bvxygriimes @distracteddragoness @konigsblog @im-making-an-effort @daisychainsinknots @h0n3y-l3m0n05 @danielle143 @tuttifuckinfruttifriday @notspiders @brokenpieces-72 @petwifed @randominstake @haven-1307 @shironasumi @sparky--bunny @bloobewy @cod-z @sweetnanah @aldis-nuts @evolutionarry @kaoyamamegami @cassiecasluciluce

#x reader #cod mw2 #cod mw2 x reader #soap mw2 #soap mactavish #soap #soap cod #john soap mactavish #soap x reader #soap x you #Champion!soap #Goddess!reader #greek mythology #champion au

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or0ch1maru · 9 months ago

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oo hello i'm a lurker first time caller lol, i love what i've seen of your writing, esp for orochimaru! i'm not sure if it's too late/ not really what you asked for, but would u be interested in writing menstruation smut (or fluff!) for orochimaru and also any akatsuki members? i'd die over oral w this too 😭

Heyyy bby🫶🏻I got you🤭

18+, menstruation, fem receiving oral, smut

I can just IMAGINE how messy they can get while eating you while. Like omg

Sorry this Is so short, I’m exhausted after this past week at work but I hope you love it nonetheless

-they always knew when you were ovulating, let alone being on your period. They could smell you from a mile away.

-speaking of smell, orochimaru loves your scent. Face buried in your cunt as their tongue fucks in and out of you. Blood and your arousal mixing together in an intoxicating way, causing them to grind into the mattress as they eat you out

-their nose bumping into your clit as orochimaru pushes their tongue deeper. Your hands intertwining in their hair, holding them steady as you buck your hips against their face. Your needy little cunt not getting of enough of your partners tongue

-“nmph, ‘m gonna cum” you whine out through pants, your legs tightening around your partners heads as your orgasm washes over you. Your hips twitching as you ride out your climax grinding against Orochimaru’s mouth

-they don’t let up on their pace, their tongue hitting all your sensitive spots, orochimaru pressing his nose harder against your puffy nub, helping you ride out your orgasm

-once you’ve settled down, despite your brain being all fuzzy from the intense release, you look down at your partner who’s looking up at you. Your blood and arousal smeared all over their lips and cheeks. That smug smile that you love so much plastered against their features

-“look at you, falling apart just because of my tongue. Can’t wait to see you come undone on my cock”

-just like Orochimaru, he knows when you’re on your cycle. Keeping track of it himself. Pounces on you the second he picks up on the difference in smell

-Adores the way your cute cunt looks when your blood is smeared all over your folds and inner thighs

-your silver haired lover has you held down against his mouth. Looking up at you through low eyelids as he flicks his tongue through your folds. His large calloused hands gripping your thighs firmly, holding you in place as you sit on his face

-hidan watches as you throw your head back, your small hands groping and massaging at your tits, pinching your sensitive and perky buds as his name falls from your lips in breathy moans

-his erection aches in his pants as he witnesses drool pooling from the corner of your mouth, dribbling down your chin as you’re being fucked silly, Hidan pushing his tongue into you

-“h-hidan baby, ‘m close” you whine out, your thighs burning where he has a hold on you. Hidan continues with his relentless pace, feeling your legs tense around him. Your partner pleasuring you through your high. Helping you onto your back on your shared bed

-“gonna need you to make a bigger mess f’ me doll, needa be painted in your blood”

•

#akatsuki #akatsuki members #orochimaru #orochimaru stories #orochimaru smut #orochimaru headcanons #orochimaru x reader #hidan x you #hidan smut #hidan headcanon

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in1-nutshell · 11 months ago

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Hello! First time requester and long time lurker! Just wanted to request a story for a opposite personality kid buddy with megatron (tfp) similar to the optimus and Ratchet ones you have done! They are my new favourite thing lol

Also would love some possible best uncle soundwave bits in it!

Its fun to see the Bots and Cons interact to their daughters with opposite personalities, but I saw this request and chose pain. Fair warning there may be tears or not.

Megatron is not going to have a fun time when he realizes that his daughter's personality is a little like someone he knows...

If this isn't what you wanted, please let me know!

Hope you enjoy!

Megatron with a daughter who has the opposite personality of his own

SFW, Angst, mention of injuries, Platonic, Famialil, Cybertronian reader (Buddy is a minicon)

TFP

Buddy was Megatron’s dumpster baby.

Literally.

Megatronus was out in one of the dirty alleys of Cybertron when he heard a noise coming from the piles of scrap.

He thought about ignoring it… but something told him to at least check it out.

There sticking out of the pile like a beacon of light was a tiny sparkling. Perhaps a minicon sparkling.

All alone dirty and crying.

Megatronus didn’t have the spark to leave them their alone and picked it up.

“Hello there little one.”--Megatronus

Sparkling stops crying and just looks at him with her big optics.

“Some one left you here? No surprised with how everyone is… What should I do with you?”--Megatronus

Sparkling grabs one of his digits.

“There is always the sparkling care unit…”--Megatronus

The sparkling yawing and curling into his servo to take a nap.

“…Great… I’ve gotten attached to it… but you can’t stay with me in the gladiator’s quarters just yet. Too small for your own good. But there is someone who can help.”--Megatronus

Orion opening up the door to his habsuite revealing Megatronus holding a small sleeping sparkling in one servo.

“…Megatronus… please tell me you didn’t kidnap this sparkling.”—Orion

“What! No!”--Megatronus

The two mechs created a plan.

Orion would watch her while Megatronus was at work and the Megatronus would come by and pick her up during the free times he was now given with the rising status as a gladiator.

Orion in the meantime would house and help feed her. There would be times where he had to take her to work, but no one seemed to mind.

The sparkling was quiet and to top it off had become increasingly interested in some of the data pads in Iacon.

“Orion? What do you have there?”—Alpha Trion

Orion holding Buddy in one servo and an energon cube in the other.

“An energon cube?”--Orion

“Pax you know what I mean…”—Alpha Trion

It was a bit rough at first, but they made it work.

Buddy was her given designation after her friendly nature around bots.

Megatronus didn’t mind it at all.

Soon enough Megatronus started introducing some of the gladiators to Buddy, though he wasn’t quite ready to have her move in with him. It still was no place for Buddy.

Out of all the gladiators Buddy got to meet, she clearly had a favorite.

Soundwave.

Having already a small team of minicons with him, Buddy was easily welcomed into the group.

Some even made jokes about Buddy being Soundwave’s kid too.

Soundwave loved Buddy’s light.

He swore an oath to protect her.

During the first meeting.

“Buddy, this is one of my closest friends, Soundwave.”--Megatron

Buddy from behind Megatronus’s pede peeping out.

“Go on, just like we talked about.”--Megatronus

Buddy slowly walks up to Soundwave.

“Hello! My designation is Buddy! I like blue, red, and purple. You’re purple, I like you.”--Buddy

Soundwave internally promising to offline anyone who harms the little one.

Orion soon introduced the sparkling to Ratchet.

Ratchet loved seeing the little sparkling around he thought it was Orion’s sparkling for a while.

Until he saw the clear favoritism the sparkling had when she saw Megatron.

Ratchet watching Buddy speeding over to Hug Megatronnus’s pede.

“Wait she’s not yours?”--Ratchet

“No? What made you think of that?”--Orion

Ratchet remembering the number of times he ‘s seen Buddy sleep over at Orion’s place, go to ‘work’ in the archives, near identical friendliness.

“…No reason… but… did he kidnap her by any chance?”--Ratchet

“Ratchet!... Well, I thought that too, but no!”--Orion

Then the debates with the Senate began.

Megatronus felt so betrayed by Orion’s words he stormed off, enraged.

So filled with hatred and betrayal, he almost forgot that Buddy was with him.

There was no way that he was going to let Buddy anywhere near that traitor again.

“Where’s Uncle Orion?”--Buddy

“We are not seeing him again.”--Megatronus

“What!? Why?!”--Buddy

“He has done something unforgivable. I will not have him influence you.”--Megatronus

“What did he do?”--Buddy

“…He betrayed me. He is no longer your ‘uncle’, Soundwave is your only ‘uncle’.”--Megatronus

“Can… Can at least say ‘good-bye’?”--Buddy

“Life doesn’t let you say ‘good-bye’ Buddy. Learn from that.”--Megatronus

“But—”--Buddy

“NO!”--Megatron

“…okay…”--Buddy

Then the war started.

Megatron made sure that Buddy was going to be always stuck to his side.

Other times it would be with Soundwave.

As Buddy grew up in the dark corridors of the Nemesis, she decided to pick up on basic patch work.

Maybe do something to fix her father.

She had been told hundreds of times that her uncle Orion, now Optimus Prime, had started the war.

He was the cause of all this destruction, of all this death.

Buddy believed it for a while.

But as she got older the more, she would begin to hear more unfiltered pieces from the Autobots. More things from their side.

She knew that the truth wasn’t going to be pretty by any means… but she just wanted to know what happened to her sweet uncle Orion.

Megatron soon began to be haunted by the ghost of his former brother in the shape of his own sparkling.

Their personalities were scarily similar.

Too similar.

Megatron tried to change this in his own way.

He began training Buddy to fight, but this didn’t help too much.

Buddy frame shaking from exhaustion.

“Get up! We can not have the Future Leader of the Decepticon’s kneel on the floor!”--Megatron

“Megatronus—”--Buddy

Megatron looking at Buddy, for a split-second seeing Orion in her place.

“…Can I please have a break? We’ve been at this for more than 2 hours.”--Buddy

“No.”--Megatron

“But—”--Buddy

“I said no!”--Megatron

“Megatronus—”--Buddy

“I SAID ‘NO’! WHY CAN’T YOU LISTEN TO ME, ORION!”--Megatron

“… Megatron… Its me Buddy, Orion is not here.”--Buddy

“… 5 minute break then we are going back to training.”--megatron

Even if she was a minicon, Megatron treated her like any other soldier.

He began sowing the seeds of the future into her helm. About leading the Decepticons if anything were to happen to him.

He had subconsciously placed a near unbearable weight upon his daughter’s shoulders.

She did talk to her Uncle Soundwave about this.

“What is he thinking Soundwave? Me? The future Leader of the Decepticons? Yeah right, like Starscream or some of the others would take orders from a lowly minicon like me.”--Buddy

“You—Have—Soundwave.”--Soundwave

“I know that, but why… just why…”--Buddy

Buddy started to sniffle, Soundwave wrapping his arm around Buddy as she buries her helm into his side.

“Why… why…”—Buddy

“You—have—Soundwave—everything—is—going—to be—fine.”—Soundwave

“… I miss your voice sometimes Soundwave. I know you wont because of the oath… but I do miss it.”--Buddy

“…”—Soundwave

Soundwave just holds Buddy closer.

Soundwave grew a bit more protective of Buddy seeing as not many minicons could survive on their own for long.

He should know…

Sometimes he’ll have Lazerbeak watch her or keep her company when he is unavailable.

Then Megatron disappeared.

Buddy never felt so much pressure or sense of guilt in her life.

As Megatron’s successor she automatically assumed control as Leader of the Decepticons.

Soundwave always by her side as was Starscream.

Soundwave never let Buddy alone with Starscream under any circumstance.

Starscream did find some insult in this but understood. He was constantly trying to overthrow Megatron, even going with murderous attempts.

But even he had some standards as to not killing the kid… yet.

Buddy did attempt to contact the Autobots while in command to talk, but all attempts never reached them. She wanted to make some peace negotiations before any more energon could be spilled.

All her hard work went down the drain when Megatron came back.

“Megatron! Meagtron you’re back!”--Buddy

Buddy going in for a hug, but Megatron moving aside completely missing Buddy’s hug.

“Megatron?”--Buddy

“How have the troops been?”--Megatron

“Everything is good, just as you left them. But shouldn’t we get you to Knockout? Just to make sure that everything is okay with your systems.”--Buddy

“No.”--Megatron

“Megatron, its highly—”--Buddy

“I’m sorry did you just speak back? You are no longer the Leader of the Decepticons anymore, learn your place.”--Megatron

Every Decepticon within hearing distance optics going wide.

“…Right, my apologizes… Lord Megatron.”--Buddy

“Better. Now get ready for our sparring session. You’ve grown soft and we cannot have that.”--Megatron

Things only got worse between them after the reunion, after he plunged the dark energon into his chassis.

Megatron seemed more and more obsessed with Prime. He nearly ignored more and more of his duties as Leader. Buddy, Soundwave and Starscream had to pick up after him.

The sparring was getting more and more intense.

Many of the Vechicons had reported to Soundwave or Breakdown to get down and stop the sparing matches because of the screaming they keep on hearing. It sounded more and more like a torture session than sparring session.

Knockout organizing his wax bottles when Breakdown and a Vechicon come in. Buddy in the Vechicons arms near limp.

“What happened!?”--Knockout

“Take a guess.”--Breakdown

Vechicon placing Buddy on the med slab.

“Thank you, Steve…”--Buddy

“Commander Buddy—”--Steve

“Don’t call me that okay. We’ve talked about this Steve. It’s just Buddy. No titles, no nothing, just Buddy.”--Buddy

“Okay… Buddy.”--Steve

“Okay Steve you can resume your duties, thanks for the help.”--Breakdown

“Of course, Breakdown. Bye Buddy.”--Steve

Buddy trying to wave back but wincing.

Knockout is already getting his tools out.

“Training, I’m guessing.”--Knockout

“Yes…”--Buddy

Silence in the med bay as Knockout finishes up the patch work.

“Megatron is lucky this time it looked worse than what it was. He needs to be more careful… we only have so many minicon parts right now…”--Knockout

“It’ll be all right Knockout.”--Buddy

“And how do you know?”--Breakdown

“Hope. Cause that’s all we have right now. Hope and a whole bunch of ammo.”--Buddy

“Heh. Guess you’re right about the ammo part.”--Breakdown

“Yeah!”--Buddy

“And… your done! Now don’t go and ruin that finish missy!”--Knockout

“Or what? Its not like Optimus Prime is going to ruin it.”--Buddy

#transformers #transformers x reader #maccadam #bot buddy #tfp #tfp x reader #tfp megatron #tfp soundwave #ophelia

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neiptune · 11 months ago

Text

look at you, looking at me

cw: 1.3k wc, this is my entry for @gojoath's yandere collab! this armin comes with charm and a hint of obsessive behavior, it's quite short but i haven't written anything in a minute so i hope you'll still enjoy :)

“Uhm— excuse me?”

The soft voice peels your attention away from the thick book you’ve been immersed in for the past minutes and you suddenly find yourself focusing on delicate features, azure gaze limpid yet hesitant boring into yours.

“I’m so sorry, is it okay if I sit here? The cafe is packed, I’ve been waiting for half an hour now” a tentative smile stretches rose shaded lips “and, well, I could only gather enough courage to ask because we’re kinda here to do the same thing. Unless you’re waiting for someone” the smile grows wider, cheeks dusted with a pink so pretty as he holds up the same book you had started reading just yesterday on the subway.

A little taken aback, you smile too and his dimple gets a little deeper in turn.

“Sure, take a seat! I’m not waiting for anyone”

Armin graciously lets his backpack slip from his shoulder onto the floor and places the battered copy of Les Miserables on the table, at measured distance from your latte. You fixate on the book as he wanders off to place his order, not before offering one last relieved smile and uttering a thanks so quiet it almost gets swallowed by the voices murmuring at different tables and the sound of the coffee machine behind the counter.

The book is worn out, with black ink stains smeared across the fore edge, rendered thicker by what you assume are colorful sticky notes used for annotations. Is he studying it? Or is he just one of those readers who are the complete opposite of you? Always so careful, almost reverent with each title: your fingers explore attentively, to feel the furrows that make each page special, invisible irregularities that make you smile and bring comfort until you truly can’t resist anymore and bring the book up to your face to give it a quick sniff. When you encounter a paragraph or a sentence that you can’t risk forgetting, the palest trail of a pencil is the only thing you use to highlight it.

When the stranger comes back with his cappuccino, cocoa powder sprinkled on top, it’s a bit disappointing that he simply sits down across you and picks up the book once more without uttering a single word. Usually you’d simply go back to reading too but he has nice hands with fingers that spread prettily to hold what’s not exactly a light book, the afternoon sun is hitting his fair hair just right and you’ve been sitting in silence for enough time to crave a chat—

His gaze travels up from the page that had his brows furrowing and you’re so embarrassed to be caught staring with the same intensity some lurker would have.

“God, sorry” you chuckle nervously, blood suddenly simmering underneath excessively layered clothing, “it’s just… you seem to really like it. The book, I mean. I’m always scared to ruin the ones I love the most but yours seems just as loved”.

He smiles and a pretty blush sets on his cheeks as one hand timidly scratches the back of his neck.

“Well, I mean, love changes things. I like looking back at the things I loved and seeing how different they are compared to when I first got them, you know?”

“Yeah” you smile back “yeah, I think I know what you mean. Would it be weird to ask about the notes you’re taking?”

“Of course not, but I’d ruin the book for you. To keep it vague and spoiler free, I usually highlight dialogues or descriptions that really impress me. If they remind me of authors or poetry I have already explored, I expand on the concept and add my own thoughts. It’s messy and very underwhelming once you actually go through it” his awkward smile radiates warmth and, hell, you think it’s attractive.

“You sure make it sound anything but underwhelming, though” you deem the chuckle you elicit a small victory, so it’s only natural to finally introduce yourself.

Armin utters his name with bashfulness, he’s aware it sounds odd but your reaction to hearing it for the first time is the one thing he wouldn’t have been able to predict. You say it back: Armin. Wow! Are you from Germany? I think it comes from Arminius. Yeah, sorry, I have a Classics degree!

Armin.

It sounds so much better when you say it and he licks his lips by a weird reflex that tastes like coffee instead of the sweetness of your chapstick: you’re wearing it today too, not really one for lipsticks, the dim lights of the crowded cafe accentuating the mild shine of your pretty lips. 100% natural, moisturising peppermint lip balm. He can’t wait until he’s alone once more to apply the waxy consistency to his lips with his index finger, just like you always do.

“Jean” Armin replies to your question with ease, his thoughts are already wandering off but you certainly don’t need to know that as you take a sip from what he’s sure it’s a latte gone cold “not only because he shares one of my friends’ name. I just love that he embodies hope, even in such darkness”

He knows you’re gonna love Enjolras and perhaps even Eponine, conflict and tragedy always, inevitably luring you in. Armin wouldn’t love you as much if you weren’t so fascinated by pain: the movies you usually pick, all the plays you have watched with friends and family, even those ridiculous true crime podcasts you listen to at night right before going to bed, show that you have depth, that you’re interested in the fundamental sorrow and evil that lies in everything human.

Not in you. The pettiest thing you ever did was getting the last twix from the vending machine at your workplace, to get back at your idiotic colleague. You’re incapable of being selfish or wicked and that’s what worries him the most, that’s what keeps him awake at night and urged him to finally bring himself to come out into the open.

It's a little unfortunate: he hates ruining books and had to visit a couple different shops to find an edition that would match yours, hours spent cracking the spine, aging those brand new pages, adding empty colorful sticky notes and random stains. Tea, coffee, ink, the explosion of an old but elegant fountain pen, different bookmarks to make the book look thicker, fuller, filled with thoughts that never really existed. He's read it while in high school, hated every page, each character, dialogues and painfully detailed descriptions a never ending agony that used to fuel his nightmares as a student.

Most importantly, Armin is far from having everything ready for you just yet. But man, was this worth it. You’re more beautiful than ever up close, your voice is as smooth as the satin of the pink ribbons he has bought for you. Now Armin’s certain they’ll match the color of your eyes just right.

“You have a friend named Jean? That’s so cool!” you lean forward over the table, it’s imperceptible but, like an opposite magnet, he’s instantly drawn to your floral scent.

“He’s okay” he chuckles with sincere affection “always drags me along for the most insane hikes”

You huff, sympathetic.

“Ouch. I hate hikes” of course you do “I’d probably just ghost him”

“Tried that. He has the keys to my apartment so he simply dragged me out of bed at the crack of dawn”

You wrinkle your nose adorably.

“Damn, that’s some dedication. Maybe I’ll end up meeting this Jean guy and convince him to leave you alone”

Armin freezes in his seat. Ths first thought that crosses his mind is not a chance in hell.

He’ll keep his friends away from you, Jean and Connie and Eren, with their charming smiles and good looks and lame jokes you’d be too polite not to laugh at. You’re too good for them, you’d be too good for anyone, the thought of you sitting in a coffee shop on your own is already torture. You truly don’t realize how hideous and dangerous the world and its people can be.

“What’s that face?” the silver tinkling of your laugh is a pleasant interference for increasingly febrile thoughts “you weren’t even going to ask for my number, after all this?”

Armin blinks his surprise away, heat spreading in his chest with the intensity of fireworks explonding in the night sky.

He licks his lips again.

#armin x reader #armin x you #armin arlert x reader #armin arlert x you #aot x reader #cw yandere

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