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boba-beom · 1 year ago

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⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ well hidden | KANG TAEHYUN NSFW

・❥・ pairing: taehyun x noona!reader

・❥・ genre: tiny fluff, pure smut | one shot

・❥・wc: 2.6k

・❥・ warning(s): established relationship, reader is down bad for taehyun lmao, taehyun and his noona kink, reader is older than tyun, public(?) scene, dom!taehyun, pet names (sweet cheeks, baby, good girl, my noona, babe), taehyun gets called big boy 🤭, exhibitionism kink, heavy petting, praise & degradation 🤭, oral (both receiving), he's a lil rough with throat fucking, fingering (f receiving), taehyun ‘mean’ tease, unprotected sex (always stay safe guys), multiple orgasms, surprise breeding kink oop, lowercase intended, not proofread

・❥・ a/n: I think this is my first official full taehyun smut, so enjoy because this is the first of many noona!reader thoughts I have omg

・❥・ summary: going on a vacation with your smoking hot boyfriend can be relaxing, but asks if you're down to have more fun on an empty beach. or so you think.

it's late noon, the sky turning a soft amber shade in the sky, clouds entertaining your eyes, and though the sun may be beginning to set, you and taehyun still decide to soak up the last few minutes of the sun.

you shuffle on your beach towel from your back to lay on your front, tilting your shades lower on your nose to watch your hot boyfriend walk towards you from the ocean. his hair hangs wet over his forehead with droplets falling onto his broad shoulders and down his muscly chest, trailing down his abs and to the band of his swim shorts until he approaches you with a mischievous expression across his face.

"still checking me out even though we've been dating for god knows how long now?" he picks up a towel beside up and ruffles it against his hair, triggering the pulse between your thighs because he just looks that good, and throws it over to hang on his shoulder.

"it's called admiring, baby." you chuckle.

he sits beside you, observing the way your cleavage is on display and pressed against the beach blanket beneath you, just for him to see on this majorly sparse beach. you had an inkling that your boyfriend had something in mind, he always did, and you were just waiting for him to tell you what he's been thinking about.

the moment taehyun's fingers lightly skim down your back, tracing your spine as you let out a comforting hum. your eyes close as your breath picks up in the tiniest bit and as soon as his fingers reach the string on your bikini bottom you feel him tug on it ever so slightly. you feel him closer in proximity despite having your eyes shut, sensing his warmth radiating from his body.

"how about we have some fun, hm noona?" he whispers erotically in your ear before laying kiss from your jaw and down the back of your neck until he places both of his hands on your hips, lightly squeezing your sides and beginning to massage the area as you let out another hum, borderline moan.

"taehyun, someone could see us though." you whine, as if you cared that much, but for the sake of decency you wanted to be sure it was just the two of you.

"c'mon, why would it matter? I know you're into that anyway." he chuckles as he resumes kissing and nipping at your neck. he groans against your skin as he turns you onto your back and he situates himself between your legs, feeling his semi-erection against your thigh.

"but what if-"

"noona, do you want me to fuck you or no?" he holds your chin to look up at him, his grip a little too tight but you loved it.

nodding your head at him with your doe eyes as you look up, he tightens his grip a little more as you whine.

"words, yn, I need to hear it from you."

"taehyun, baby, please use me. fuck me, use me all you like. I want you so bad." he smirks in satisfaction after hearing your needy whines, letting go of his hold on your chin before returning with his trail of kisses.

this time it felt like your skin was gradually getting a little hot after each kiss, burning up after each one. he reaches one of his hands up to massage one boob and the other occupied by his tongue dragging along the hem of your bikini.

his hot trail of spoiling you with his love continued until his face reached your navel, watching you starting to heave out of sensitivity. taehyun didn't hesitate to pull on the string of your bikini bottom until it had completely untied, leaving the loose material over your clothed core.

"you're always such a good girl for me, aren't you?" his voice lower than before, and you reply with an excessive nod. "my pretty noona wants to get fucked on this beach so bad, bet you want someone to watch me fuck you until your legs are shaking non-stop."

you feel yourself clench around nothing, wanting his hand to take away the loose material covering the area where you were desperate for him to touch you.

"you know I can be good for you, just please touch me." you beg, grazing your hand along his broad shoulders and up to rest by his neck, fingers occasionally playing with the beaded necklace, knowing it's one of his sensitive areas.

the pulse in your ears were almost deafening if it wasn't for the gentle waves alternating between washing up closer to you and pulling back. to your luck, he pulled away your bikini bottoms, teasingly gliding his middle finger from your clit down to your leaking hole.

"I can't wait to taste you," he groans from the slick gathering between his fingers and separating his digits to find a thin string of your arousal hanging in between.

"do it then." you look down at him as he raises a brow, amused at your tone.

taehyun gets comfortable between your legs, thighs over his shoulders and threading his arms around your legs with his hands resting on your inner thighs. you prop yourself on your elbows to watch his head dip between your legs, knowing just how wet you've become just from his simple touches.

you anticipate his tongue as your eyes steady at the back of his pale-coloured, damp hair, but instead you feel a cool breeze. the breeze around you wasn't as strong as the chill you feel against your core, until you realise taehyun's blowing over your wet cunt.

you whine, squirming with the littlest movement possible until you feel him dip his tongue between your drenched folds and sliding up to lap up at your clit. your chest heaves heavily above him, having your hands grope your boobs through your bikini top and taehyun lowers himself so he could look up at you. but the change in angle only came to aid in your pleasure once he enters his tongue into your cunt, his nose bumping against your clit.

taehyun loves when your hands roam around your body. he watches the way the nylon material of your bathing suit wrinkles as you squeeze your boobs.

"untie it, I wanna see all of you." he lift his head higher, placing his lips against your inner thigh thinking he would kiss the area, but he bites and sucks a couple of times before licking them after.

if there's one thing you knew about your boyfriend, it was that he was obsessed with you. he's more obsessed over the fact that you're older than him. something about him pleasing an older woman boosts his ego and makes his head fuzzy.

after you untie your top piece, he reaches up to set them aside, next to your undone bikini bottoms. he loves seeing you bare just for him; it has his dick hardening against the beach blanket knowing that he wants to shove his cock inside you and hear you scream.

"babyy, come fuck me good." you hold eye contact with his lustful gaze, taking in the way you're playing with your boobs and rolling your hard nipples between your fingers.

there was no point in making you wait when that's exactly what he was planning to do. rail you on an empty beach while the sun sets.

"you're such a whore for me, noona." you pulse again from his harsh nickname, but you know you are. only for him. always for him.

you stay in your position, elbows hurting from digging into the sand and not realising how far back you were squirming while your boyfriend was working his tongue on you. you scan down taehyun's body again, from his hazy eyes looking down at you, his lips glistening from your wet cunt and his saliva, his chest sheen from a light layer of sweat, his core engaging while me moves over your chest, and his bulge begging to come out of his swim shorts— the material clinging on to the outline of his erection.

"suck it. then I'll fuck you so good until someone hears you. maybe I won't stop and they can watch me treat my noona so well." his voice was raspier and he lets out a light gasp once you pull the band of his swim shorts down, watching his rock hard cock fling up and hit his abdomen.

the tip was glistening from beads of precum gathered at the top before leaking to the underside and about to drip until you stick out your tongue and catching the salty bead, kitten licking the mushroom tip while hearing your boyfriend's breath shaking in the smallest way.

"fuck, noona. wanna fuck your throat so bad." he groans, a hand on his hip and the other guiding your head lower onto his cock.

you whine as he slips more of himself past your lips, his length filling your mouth and the head touching your uvula and causing you to gag.

"come on, don't you want to be fucked like a slut?" he grits his teeth as he experiments a couple of shallow thrusts into your mouth, nothing but noises with your mouth full of cock. "sorry, I didn't hear you?" he snickers.

you grab onto the top of his thigh, clawing onto his skin with your freshly manicured soft gel nails, grazing his skin and leaving behind pinkish lines on his tanned leg.

your mouth is just so wet and warm, engulfed around his length as your tongue sweeps side to side on the underside of his cock. taehyun loves it. he loves that his noona has her mouth full of his cock, whimpering around and sending vibrations down his length.

"mmh, yeah that's my sweet girl, hollow your cheeks." he looks down at you, watching you tightly shut your eyes as you hollow in your cheeks, making him moan from the suction but not yet nearing his orgasm.

you concentrate on your breathing through your nose, as you work on his dick, saliva building up and making a mess around your lips and down your chin. you were going at your own pace until you felt a pair of hands holding your head still, opening your eyes and watching taehyun slip his dick out between your puffy lips.

"I think my noona deserves a good fuck, what'cha think sweet cheeks?" your chest heaves lightly, mouth still slightly open and he takes ahold of his shaft, tapping the tip of his head against your cheek.

"wan' you to fuck me so so good baby." you plead with your shaky tone, gradually opening your legs as he stands up before kneeling between you.

"you just can't keep your legs closed huh?" he kisses your knee while his other hand continues to jerk himself a little more, "but thanks for making it easier for me babe."

he leans down, pressing his tip against your sopping core and doesn't pause before thrusting all the way in, filling you up with the girth of his length hugged by your gummy walls. a soft moan leaves your lips, throwing your head back against the sand and your hands back to playing with your boobs, because you know he loves it when you do that.

one of taehyun's hands are planted on your waist and he leans on his other arm beside your head, holding himself up as his hips snap at a steady but fast pace.

"oh my god, baby, yes, ugh— right there." you whine, feeling his one hand push one of your legs closer to your chest and hitting you at a delicious angle.

"mhm, that's right noona, scream for me." he pants against your jaw, quiet grunts leaving his throat before kissing that sweet spot just below your ear.

you loved the feeling of taehyun fucking you out in the open, and the thought of someone possibly seeing you has you clenching tightly around him, your stomach feeling tighter by the second.

"taehyun, I'm gonna— oh fuck— I'm coming—" you almost scream against his ear, feeling his lips form a smile against your skin, but his hips never stopped.

"hang on a little longer noona, I'm almost close. you can do that for me right?" he whispers against your cheek, voice breathy as his hand gropes your boobs, playing with your nipple between his thumb and forefinger.

although you feel your second high coming and overstimulation building up the sensitivity, you nod your head and let taehyun fuck your abused pussy until he cums.

your boyfriend pulls out slowly, hearing you whine from the loss inside you, but he turns you around, "on fours for me." he grabs a handful of your ass, before smacking it and hearing you almost let out a cry. it wasn't long until he plunged into your cunt again, going twice as fast and just as hard you feel your boobs jiggling.

"ah shit, tae- taehyun, too much baby. I'm gonna cum again." you cry out, your fingers curled and gripping tightly onto the frayed edges of the blanket.

taehyun kiss behind your neck again, nipping and trapping your skin between his teeth until his lips travel to your shoulders and the middle of your back. you feel tingly from the sensation thinking you could hold out a little while longer, but you feel his hand come around and circling his two fingers over your clit in a speed that was capable of bringing you over the edge.

in all honesty, he loved that you were breaking apart because of his dick. because of him.

your core felt like it was tightening up again, clenching around him but in sync with his dick twitching against your walls and his airy moans behind you.

"god noona, you feel so good. wanna fill you up, gonna carry my babies, yeah?" he usually speak through gritted teeth when he's close, but he lets himself moan just for you to hear. after all, he knows how much of a whore you are for him being vocal.

"yes baby, fill me up. gimme your big load big boy— ah—." you moan at a higher pitch, feeling your second wave of orgasm washing over you as you feel your thighs shudder beneath you.

your boyfriend lets out his staccato moans as his thick load shoots against your walls, slightly bucking his hips with every release. his head slightly going hazy from the grip your pussy still has around him, but he tries to steady his breath as he unloads his last few spurts of cum into your full cunt.

"shit baby," he catches his breath, "let me stay inside you for a little while, gonna make sure we get a baby out of this."

you chuckle breathlessly under him, his hands roaming around your hips and caressing you so lovingly. littering your bare back in wet kisses and playfully nipping some place.

"what if I don't get pregnant from this tae?" you turn your head to look up at him, watching him plant a kiss to your temple.

"then I'm gonna have to fuck you more... several rounds until we successfully have a baby in your tummy." his hand runs down your torso and cradles your lower stomach as he thinks about how beautiful and round your stomach would be one day, carrying his child. "but I'm gonna make you my wife first."

you giggle at his comment, and then some more from his ticklish kisses as he whispers more about how excited he is to start his life with you.

though, a pair of eyes were fixed on your bare backs from a distance, the guy's brows lightly scrunched and his bottom lip trapped between his teeth as two dimples appear prominent, one on either cheek.

he steadies his breath as he looks down at his spent dick, cum on his lower abdomen and his fist which is slowing down his motions.

"fuck." he whispers under his breath.

・❥・ taglist: @ahnneyong @prodsh00ky @wccycc @lizdevorak @fairybin @laylasbunbunny @acaiasahi @ttyunz @cha0thicpisces @fairybinie @vatterie @hyuntaena @ja4hyvn @yunkiwii @aprilisque @bb-eilish @ericyjun @luvsoobs @yeonyeonyeonjun @junniieesbby @kyrkitten @day6andetcetera @dainsleif-when-playable @txt-yaomi @robin-obsessed

・❥・for this fic: @gbgbsoob @tyunkus @ggwnitie

#k-labels #kflixnet #taehyun smut #taehyun x fem reader #txt smut #taehyun hard hours #taehyun imagines #taehyun scenarios #txt x fem reader #txt hard hours #txt imagines #txt scenarios #smiles entering her taehyun brainrot #expect the next few posts to be about taehyun #for who knows how long #mdni #smiles hard hours

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mci-writing · 9 months ago

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Hi I saw that your requests are open. Can I request a senku x female reader where he has a crush on an older tattooed foreigner who was on vacation in Japan when the world was petrified

I've had this sitting for a minute tbh, but mostly bc I didn't want there to be too many spoilers for anime-onlys 😭😭 mostly for how tattoos work,,, Don’t be surprised if there’s a heavy focus on language plot wise, I’ve been working on a lot of linguistics homework 😞

Anyways, hope you enjoy

Science Makes Age Complicated (Ishigami Senku x Reader):

Warnings: technically an age gap but also not (reader was once 2 years older than Senkuu, but now they're the same age due to time shenanigans), fem!reader, some language use (a few swears here and there), reader is American (RIP but it’s plot relevant), reader is implied to know an insane amount of languages (bc this is Dr Stone and it’s relevant to world-building)

"Think you can scrounge something up for her, Yuzuriha?" Senku parts the lush shrubbery for his friend, unresponsive to her obvious surprise at the sight before her. He figured it would go that way, considering how kept away the whole area is, but he'd rather start the spectacle with her big reactions instead of the loud and boisterous version involving the rest of their crew, "I'm more than sure you'll manage to make her something she's 1 billion percent comfortable in."

He'd considered this statue his secret weapon for the next part of their excursion. Well, that would be his explanation as to why he'd waited so long to unveil her and finally free her from her encasement. Really, he could never find the proper time to finally revive her, especially when every time it would feel right to, something else would arise that would require them to use the revival fluid for someone else.

When talks of traveling to the Americas came up, he knew it'd be the perfect time to properly reveal her and, hopefully, ease her into their current predicament. While Gen is a great diplomat, thew mentalist isn't exactly fluent in as many languages as the girl in the statue before them. Even more, if they are to run into more people (which they very likely are), it's better to have at least two representatives to talk things over. That's going to be his reasoning, anyway.

Deep down, he's a little nervous to finally see her again, especially now that he's technically older than her by a few months at least. The last time they'd seen each other had been the day before the petrification light, the two decided to spend time with each other before he went back to school. She was visiting Japan for a bit, a trip she'd planned to make at least once a year since the two had officially met in person while he had been in America. Back then, she'd been 17 to his 15, owning an American driver's license and a tattoo sleeve that left many of the older members of society scandalized.

"I don't think she's going to take being younger than us well," Yuzuriha mentions as she finishes up sewing the outfit she'd made for (Y/n). She worked fast, wiping the sweat that had accumulated on her forehead once she finished. She takes a step back once she's finished, watching as Senku steps forward, "Especially when she finds out how long it took for you to bring her back."

"She'll be fine. I'm 1 billion percent sure she's going to be grateful for it," He responds, popping the top off the tiny vial between his fingers. He doesn't stop the grin from spreading across his face as he lets the contents of the vial drip from the top of her head. The two watch expectedly as it eases its way down her body, stone cracking and parting in its wake, “She’s going to get to visit home, after all.”

The stone falls from her body, the life slowly coming back into her (e/c) orbs as more of her skin is revealed. Her tattooed sleeve remains, now accompanied by the petrification markings on her face and other parts of her body. A wave of confusion hits her as she takes in the unfamiliar surroundings, but her shoulders relax a little as she takes in the two familiar figures next to her, "Senku...? Yuzuriha...?" "Hey, (Y/n)," He immediately greets in response, an excited light coming to his eyes as ruby meets (e/c), "Looks like we're the same age now."

Yuzuriha flinches at his greeting, sighing with a shake of her head as she takes a small step closer to their friend. A nervous smile forms on her lips as she takes (Y/n) hands into her own, leading her out of the hidden away area into the light of the new world. She feels the grip tighten as (e/c) eyes dart around the surrounding forestry in an attempt to better understand the circumstances and environment, "We have a lot to catch you up on, but I'm sure if we ease you in slowly it won't cause you too much whiplash-"

"We don't have time for that, Yuzuriha. We still have to load the ship back up and travel to America," Senku waves the notion off, walking past the two of them and leading them back into the village. Neither of the girls miss the smirk on his face as he continues, unmoving as they gape at him like fish, "(Y/n) will catch up along the way."

He's bluffing, which they realize a little later when Ryusui recounts the plan to spend the next few days loading the ship and replacing the items they used on their last voyage. (Y/n) is assimilated faster into their new society than she can process, the rest of their group taking the basic information they're fed and working with it. Yuzuriha is eventually forced to leave her to fend for her own after a bit to attend to her own assignments and Taiju only stops to catch up for a bit (which is mostly him speed talking and making assumptions about how much she's been made aware of) before continuing to move along.

Senku doubts he'll ever admit it out loud, but he is grateful that they're the same age, even if he's technically older by a few months now. Standing next to (Y/n), who hadn't aged a day past the last time he'd seen her, was the reassurance he secretly needed about his own development. While his growth spurt, a result of the final pushes of puberty during the Stone Wars and roughing it during the New Stone Age, was the only difference he could notice next to her, (Y/n) had been hit with the whiplash of every other development.

To her, it felt like both a lifetime and a long night since she had seen Senku, yet he looked almost completely different and exactly the same. The remainder of his baby fat had rounded out of his cheeks, his face maturing nicely into that of a young adult, and he'd sprung up quite a bit in height. He was still lithe in comparison to Taiju, till thin and very much not built for too much physical labor, but he'd gotten a bit of meat on his bones to fill his arms out a little more. Despite that, he still looked like him, like the jerky boy she'd met by chance in middle school who would be the first person she'd show her newest tattoos to when she was 16 to get some kind of rise out of him.

Taiju and Yuzuriha were a further reminder of the weird passage of time, the two more developed in their own rights. He was beefier, still ever-muscular in a more defined way. His hands seemed rougher, but she didn't know if that had been due to the rougher circumstances or if they were always meant to get so rough with all the handy work Senku would put him up to. Yuzuriha had filled out a little, a few scars littering her hands from what (Y/n) could only assume was from her thread work she'd seem to consistently be working on since they'd gotten back to their stronghold. Her silky brown hair, which had once reached her waist and made a few of the girls from their school envious of its length, now barely reached past her shoulders in its bobbed shape.

She feels so out of place...

~~~~

The rush of information coming to people’s senses is always amusing to watch, but (Y/n) is taking a little more time to process than usual. Even now, a few days into her now being free from the stone prison, she still has more questions. They aren’t particularly scientific, more so just random observations that she really wants the answers to. She’s also hyper-analyzed the villagers' speech patterns, having them repeat their newer slang and pronounce random words in Japanese, English, and German (something they did not realize they were fluent in until she came around). In return, they ask her questions about the past (mostly Senku, Yuzuriha, and Taiju), the sleeve on her arm, and why the hell she knows so many languages already.

Senku can’t really be mad about it slowly down progress, he’s sure he’d slack off a little too if they didn’t have so little time to prepare for their trip across the sea. Neither of them miss the way their eyes longingly stare at one another, meeting a few times before either is dragged away by the others they’re surrounded by. It’s even worse that (Y/n) feels she hasn’t been able to get any time alone with him since they made it to the village. She’d been made aware of their plans once her confusion died down a little, even taking the time to freshen up on the main languages she’d be focused on for their trip and doing what she can to pitch in. Unfortunately, their different preparations would barely, if ever, cross over. Lowkey, it had been killing both of them inside, but they kept up appearances for the sake of getting things done.

She’d learned from Gen, who gave her brain a break by speaking in English with her, that Senku had kept her relatively well hidden. He’d visit her often, but no one had put together that’s what he’d been doing until now. Yuzuriha made it clear she’d only learned of (Y/n)’s whereabouts a little before they’d revived her. However, the brown-haired girl did mention that a few passing statements he’d made in the past were starting to make sense.

It took the last night before the Kingdom of Science would set sail again for (Y/n) to find time away from the others. Despite the various discussions scratching her brain in the best way possible in a new world, the dark blue of the night accompanied by the low noises of crickets and crashing waves gives her the solace she needs. While everything has mostly settled, or settled as much as it can, it's still moving so fast. To her, everything was normal yesterday and then dark for longer than she thinks possible to comprehend, "Maybe this is how Sleeping Beauty felt..."

"I doubt that," A familiar voice speaks up from behind her, the heels of his shoes clopping along the ground as he approaches. The gravel scrunches as he shifts to sit next to her, deep zircon-colored eyes staring out towards the ocean's expanse. He scoots a little closer to her, his head tilting as his pinky reflexively reaches to dig out of his ear, "Considering she typically is depicted to have been a young preteen when she first fell asleep and an older teenager when she wakes, I doubt there were many technological changes to throw her for such a loop, especially if the story takes place in a fictional version of the middle ages."

His eyes shift to peak at her instead, his typical grin filing onto his face. Somehow, they're one of his few features to remain the same despite his growing age. He's one of the reasons she's out here tonight, gathering her thoughts privately one last time so she can tuck them away to focus her attention more on to returning civilization.

Of course, she always thought he was good-looking, most people did. However, where they were turned off by his passion for science and technical engineering, she found it to be all the more endearing for his character. He had his pesty moments, but so did everyone else in some way. It added to his charm, "Didn't see you as the fables type, Senku."

"Had a friend who was super into literature. She read it in different languages to challenge herself," He teases in response, his gaze turning back to the sight before them, "Wonder where she is now..."

(Y/n) tugs her knees up to her chest, the irony of the comparison not lost on her, though made completely on accident. She pulls them closer, resting her cheek on them as she takes in the boy next to her, "Maybe she's trapped somewhere in a stone prison back in the woods."

She watches his chest rumble with his chuckle, a soft breeze picking up and spreading the smell of salt water. He's closer now, the smaller changes staring her in the face and taunting her. She'd wanted him this close to her again, just for the reassurance, but now... She kind of regrets it.

"I would've found her by now," He mumbles, the sound just barely reaching her ears. A fond smile slowly eases across his mouth as he returns his gaze to her, "Would've taken me a while to finally see her like this again, but I think it'd finally be worth seeing her again. Even with the circumstances."

"I'm sure she'd be grateful to see you again too, even with the circumstances."

#ishigami senku #ishigami senku x reader #ishigami senkuu #ishigami senkuu x reader #senku ishigami x reader #dr stone x reader #senkuu ishigami x reader #did not think it would get so sentimental in the end I'm so sorry #I tussled with how to write this for a year and still feel there's further ways I could've taken it but it already feels pretty long so #I may revisit this again later but I won't hold my breath either 🤧#also had this idea that reader was Senku's interpreter in America but I didn't want to get into too much spoiler territory with that idea #she totally teaches him some silly phrases in the different languages she speaks and does mix languages up to mess with people #he doesn't realize he's into her until she goes back home one year and they fight on her way out #I imagine her tattoos are different phrases that she really enjoys and maybe a few doodles here and there #also wanted to wait until Matsukaze was introduced so ppl knew how tattoos work post petrification bc I kinda didn't wanna spoil it

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dipperscavern · 5 months ago

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hiiii! the anon who requested the Mike x fem!reader fic here. please don't apologise, I can totally understand😭😭 the show's too addictive, I binged watched the first few seasons really quick too, you can take your time🫶🏾

HII IM SO SORRY FHIS TOOK SO LONG GRR. honestly, i really struggled w this 😭 i didn’t make it very long or defined (i wanted this to set the tone of their relationship), and i left it pretty open ended (on purpose) so it could be built off of in other continuations as maybe a clientsdaughter!reader 🙂‍↕️thank u sm for the ask & i hope u enjoy!! (this is ass)

mike ross x fem!clientsdaughter!reader

mike had learned a countless amount of knowledge since joining the firm. how to talk to people, how to negotiate, how to work, how to win. along with this, he also learned the workings of the office itself — more so the people that were in it.

kyle talks to his girlfriends throughout the day. it’s often mike can catch him leaned back in his chair, not-so-discreetly checking his phone, eyebrows raising as he clicks on the selfie he was sent.

louis keeps his favorite breakfast bars in the top cabinet. rachel chews her lip when she’s thinking. the fax machine only listens to donna — don’t mention if harvey’s having a bad hair day, he knows.

oh. and don’t sleep with clients.

not getting involved with clients was a general rule of thumb. according to harvey, the less emotion involved, the better. even so, harvey himself was guilty of sleeping with a few clients — after business was done, of course. but that was different. harvey was harvey, and mike was a first year associate, already tap dancing on thin ice. he could absolutely not afford to break any rules — no matter how unspoken they might be.

truly, it was all going fine. until he met you.

you & your father are in the racehorse industry. famous for the record breaking times your horses submit (& the world-class conditions they’re always in), thousands come to the races to bet on them. your family has been breeding, training, and racing horses for decades, and your father loves his job. there’s only one issue.

he’s currently being sued for “wrongful termination” by an ex employee. the employee mistreated multiple horses during his time working for you & your father. once you both found out, he was gone.

now, 4 months later, when your most famous horse “knights honor” has died, the employee is claiming the horse was milkshaked before his races (he was not).

“Milkshaked? What the hell is that?”

harvey’s voice carried through his office as jessica presented the case to him & mike. your father was a friend to her, and it was important that harvey got this done. mike remembers the article he read years ago on racehorses when knights honor won his first championship.

“In the context of horse racing and illegal substances, a milkshake is any compound or combination of compounds administered to a horse, pre-race, for the purpose of causing.. metabolic alkalosis of the blood and extracellular fluid of that horse. Although, a previous widely used method to ensure placing times, milkshakes are a prohibited practice on race day in all U.S. jurisdictions.”

harvey and jessica exchange looks between themselves & mike. they're about to raise questions when donna's voice crackles through harvey's phone.

"Translation: Its when the horses are given a “milkshake” of different drugs before a race. It can kill fatigue and improve their endurance."

all heads look down to the phone, then at donna's desk. donna's already looking their way, of course, and she swallows under their field of vision. she shrugs.

"What? I can't.. watch tv?"

she abruptly puts the phone down, turning her chair around to type on her computer. jessica clears her throat.

"Tom is an old friend. He's genuine."

harvey interrupts. "You need me to make it go away.”

“No. This could tarnish his entire reputation… his life’s work. I need you to kill this thing in its tracks. Get it done.”

with that, jessica turns & exists the office. harvey sighs, skimming over the case file jessica dropped on his desk. he looks at mike.

“Find the daughter. Find out everything — previous arrests, divorces, a stolen tangerine from publix- I wanna know about it.”

mike nods, offering a-

“Yes, captain,”

(which makes harvey give him an exasperated look) before he retreats back to his cubicle, moving to start his manhunt. donna winks as he passes her desk.

꧁——————————————————꧂

“No, he doesn’t.”

you can sense the presence of the associate approaching behind you. you quickly thank the man working the stand as he hands you your pretzel, and you turn to face harvey’s right-hand. mike ross.

“I- You don’t even know what I was about to say.”

“Yes, I do.”

he’s cute. pretty blue eyes, a photographic memory, and a boyish charm that you can’t say you’re immune to.

“You were about to ask if he’s had any previous arrests. No, never.”

mike shakes his head. “Sorcery. Speeding tickets?”

you turn to look at him with an exasperated look. “No, officer.” he smiles.

“How did you know? That I’d ask.”

you shrug. “Ancient blood magic.”

a few moments of silence pass, and he’s silently moving his head in tune with his thoughts — like he actually believes you. you decide on mercy.

“It’s the first question lawyers always ask.”

“Ah. Been through this before?”

you shrug.

“Do you always stalk your clients?”

he doesn’t miss a beat. “Only the pretty ones- a hobby of mine.”

you hum, breaking off a piece of your pretzel and handing it to him. he sighs, leaning back.

“Oh you sweet, sweet angel.”

you both continue your walk to pearson/hardman, wanting to get there early to prep for the deposition today. mike breaks the silence once he’s done chewing.

“Do you always feed your lawyers?”

“Only the cute ones,” you break off another piece, handing it to him. “Its a hobby of mine.”

꧁——————————————————꧂

the elevator rings, signifying the end to your journey. mike is in disbelief as you step out of the elevator — mind trying to wrap around your last statement.

“What- are you serious?”

“As a heart attack.”

mike moves to catch up with you. “Okay, multimillion-dollar horse racing company, and you just.. have no security cameras? Zero?”

you turn to face him, giving him a defiant look that makes his heart flutter.

“I don’t see any cameras around here.”

as you approach the glass-doored conference room, mike opens the door for you.

“Touché.”

you shoot him a look across your shoulder before you move to greet your father, already waiting. mike pauses outside, staring, as you hug your father, no doubt offering some sort of reassurance.

“No.”

mikes head snaps toward the voice, harvey’s un-foreseen presence making him jump a little. mike looks around a bit.

“I.. didn’t even-“

harvey points a finger at mike, then at you, then slowly wags it back and forth for dramatics. mike sighs, looking around and putting his hands in his pockets, waiting for his scolding to be done.

“Harvey-“

“Uh uh.”

“Harvey.”

harvey continues his finger wag. “Micheal.”

“Harvey.”

harvey walks backwards towards the door, opening it with his free hand. “Don’t.. do it.”

mike rolls his eyes, following harvey into the room.

okay. don’t get with the funniest, most beautiful woman you’ve ever seen. got it. easy.

easy. right?

the look you give him as he sits down proves him otherwise.

#suits usa #suits tv #suits #mike ross #mike ross x reader #mike ross x you #please this is so ass it’s not even funny #i really truly hate this #BUT #i feel so bad for making u wait so long anon 😭😭#i’ll post a proper fic of this in a few days 😈😈#guys what if we all just collectively ignored this #i feel like i can’t write good dialogue for mike or harvey shoot me #i literally hate it here #ALRIGHT #TIME TO HIT POST AND REGRET IT FOR THE NEXT WEEK #dippys asks

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manfuckthisimout · 8 months ago

Text

Late nights with yoongi.

Hands running up and down your sides, both of you just getting in and cuddling for the night, when suddenly it becomes obvious he wants to do much more than cuddle.

Peppering kisses down your neck and shoulders, reaching forward into your panties to get a feel for your cunt.

You try to swat him off, “‘m sleepy gi…” you whine. He nuzzles into the back of your neck, still reaching for the stickiness forming between your legs.

“Lemme feel her baby,” he says sleepily, turning you both over. “Waited all day to get my hands on you, lemme enjoy it..”

#this came to me in a vision #also it’s been a few weeks since I’ve actually posted something this long #school is whooping my butt but not for long!!#min yoongi #yoongi #suga #boyfriend yoongi #min yoongi x reader #suga fanfic #suga fluff #suga x reader #suga x y/n #suga x you

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obey-me-headquarters · 2 years ago

Note

hi! could u perhaps write about mc accidentally finding out about the boys’ hard limits? like, just something that triggers their fight or flight response. maybe like inflecting severe pain or something. idk… thank you and sorry if u can’t!

Summary: Reader finds out where their demons' hard limits lie.

Warning/kinks: Degradation, Mirror play, bondage, sensory deprivation, punishment, spanking (with your hand and with a paddle), public play (? You're at an orgy, so everyone around you is consenting), food play, safeword use. In general, there's some panic on the boys' part as they realize that they don't like what you're doing. Along with some of them holding in their safeword for a bit, but you reprimand them for it.

Word count: 8,500+

Reader is completely gender natural and their genital isn't described.

Lucifer:

You know that Lucifer has complicated feelings when it comes to his body. He hates that he's missing a set of wings, but he wouldn't go back in time and stop himself from tearing them out. Yet his preference towards wearing as many layers as possible stems from more of a fear of being vulnerable than a lack of confidence in his body.

If anything, he's a bit overconfident in his physical appearance, if someone were to ask you.

("Is it really overconfidence, or simply knowing what I'm worth?"

"It's overconfidence Luci, my beautiful stupidity prideful demon.")

Using mirror play in the bedroom has proven to be an excellent way to break down Lucifer's walls. Whenever the demon struggled to get into subspace all it took was bringing out a mirror and having him nakedly kneel in front of it while you remained fully clothed for him to fall straight into subspace.

Something about him being so vulnerable while you remained untouched and fully clothed did something to him. Made him feel small and submissive. You didn't quite understand, but you definitely saw the appeal.

So, when Lucifer struggled to get into subspace one evening. When collars and putting him over your knee didn't do the trick, you brought out the mirror. It was full length and wide, able to reflect nearly half of the entire room, but you doubt that Lucifer would pay much attention to anything besides you or himself.

As you place Lucifer in front of the mirror he snaps at you, barring his teeth into a snarl and you know that tonight is going to be a difficult fight of trying to get him to relax enough to slip into subspace.

That proves true when you watch Lucifer struggle to fall into subspace. His pride battling his desire to be vulnerable and let you take control, you watch as he relaxes, before tensing up and snarling, before relaxing again, creating a vicious cycle.

Determined to break it, you decide to try something else that always makes Lucifer squirmy and lightheaded:

Degradation

"God, you're pathetic," you hiss as you pace around the demon. "Look at you, snarling at your own reflection like a wild animal. You know, sometimes I think you're no better than a wild animal with how much you fly off the handle."

Lucifer blushes at your words, but his pride is still roaming, and it doesn't let himself relax just yet.

"How dare-"

"Shut up!" You snap, wrapping a hand around Lucifer's mouth to silence him.

"Shut your dirty, lying, cheating mouth! How dare you think you can talk like you have something worthwhile to say."

Lucifer's breath catches in his throat, as the haze of vulnerability starts to creep up on him. Seeing his desire spark in his eyes you smirk and continue.

"Come on Luci. We both know that you never said anything worthwhile in your life. That at the end of the day, you're worthless. No, no, you're less than worthless. You only seem to make everything worst, don't you?"

Lucifer feels his pride crumble at your words, washing away as he starts to feel truly insignificant.

"You can never do anything right, can you? Not for Diavolo, not for your brothers, and certainly not for me."

The mention of disappointing Diavolo and his brothers strikes something inside of Lucifer, something he wasn't prepared to feel. Yet before he can examine what he's feeling, you continue.

"You're constantly fucking up, disappointing everyone around you. I wonder how long it'll be before everyone around you sees what I see. Do you know what I see Luci?"

Breath catching in his throat, Lucifer shakes his head.

You raise his chin with your index finger and direct it to the mirror, and Lucifer flinches when he sees himself.

He knows he would look vulnerable, and normally he would take great delight in how small and weak he looks compared to you, but coupled with your words, instead of feeling small and submissive and safe in your gaze, he feels like dirt. Normally when he drops down into subspace he feels soft and cared for, now he can't help but feel worthless and exposed.

Your sneer doesn't help as you take in the kneeling demon.

"Ugh, look at you. Can you believe that you used to be considered the star of the Celestial Realm?" You grab onto Lucifer's chin and force him to look at himself in the mirror.

"Well, can you?" You demand.

"N-no." He asks barely a whisper as tears spring to his eyes.

Immediately your hand drops from his chin as you stare at your demon in alarm. You're used to Lucifer being shy, especially as you break his pride down, you're used to his tears, but you never heard your demon sound so broken before.

"Luci, darling, are you ok?" You ask softly.

"I, I can't believe that I used to be the star of the Celestial Realm, Master. I am, sniff, I am worthless." Lucifer ignores your concern as he continues to cry, tears dripping down his cheeks.

Immediately you wrap your arms around him and pull him into your chest. "Hey, hey, shhhhh. It's ok baby. I don't think you're worthless. Demonus, ok? Demonus, the scene is done, it's over." You repeat your safeword a few times so Lucifer knows that the scene is over.

As you continue to hold Lucifer against you, mumbling praise and assurances slowly the demon starts to calm down. When his tears finally stop he leans away from you for a moment to catch his breath.

"Sorry, I- sorry. I don't know what came over him." He says, looking everywhere but your face or the mirror.

"It's ok sweetheart, you know you never have to apologize for needing to stop the scene. You know that right?"

"Yes, I'm aware. I just, didn't expect to react that way."

"If you're willing, do you mind telling me what caused it?"

Lucifer sighs and collapses back into your hold, and you think for a moment that he's going to shrug the whole scene off, but after a beat of silence he answers:

"It was the degradation. Normally I like it, love it even. But as I fell into subspace, hearing you talk about me like that made me feel vulnerable, and not in a good way."

Blinking, you will your tears away for now. Later, when tensions are lower, and everything isn't so raw the two of you will have a more in-depth conversation about this and will be able to apologize. Now your demon needs you.

"Thank you so much for telling me, baby. I just want you to know that I didn't mean a word of what I said. I, and I'm sure everyone else, rely heavily on you. We don't think you're worthless at all."

"I know," Lucifer states, a bit of his prideful overconfidence returning.

"Now, why don't the two of us stop laying on the floor and listen to a few of my records instead? I got this new one that curses those who listen to it to sing until their throat bleeds." Lucifer stands, reaching out a hand to pull you up.

It's a bit silly, seeing the still naked demon being so confident, but you hold all teasing remarks as you follow along.

Mammon:

You wanted to do so much to Mammon that it became a question of not what you'll do to him, but what he'll allow you to do to him.

And it turns out Mammon will allow you to do a lot.

Hence the list. After a very exciting night of thinking about every fantasy, kink, and wet dream you ever had, you came up with a list of what you wanted to do with Mammon, and are currently in the process of working through that list.

A lot of things on the list Mammon never tried (or heard about) before, which took a lot of talking, and a lot of easing him into certain kinks. The very kink you're trying out tonight being one he never tried before.

You gather up everything you'll need for tonight. A blindfold, noise-canceling headphones, and a pair of chains. You're a bit excited that the blindfold and headphones are magic, meaning that cut off all light and noise, as it was basically impossible to find a human realm blindfold that blocks out all light.

You could tell Mammon was getting excited too by the way he keeps eyeing the items, but in his usual Mammon way, he keeps that fact to himself.

It's adorable how he rushes to lay against the headboard at your command, as he's usually a bit of a brat and drags his feet before obeying your orders.

The chains are the first thing to go, seeing as Mammon and you were intimately familiar with them. As you lean over to secure the right cuff Mammon steals a kiss, leaning upward his lips ghosts over your cheek. With a grin, you pin him to the bed.

"Greedy boy~ we haven't even gotten started and yet you're already teasing."

"Guess it's just in my nature to be a little greedy." He teases back.

Rolling your eyes you give him one last real kiss on the lips before cuffing him to the bedframe. As you back to enjoy your work you can't help but feel giddy.

Pulling out the blindfold and headphones you turn to your demon with a grin as you present them both to him.

"Blindfold or headphones first?"

Mammon looks a bit caught off guard at being asked his preference, before eyeing them both critically. After a beat, he answers: "The headphones, I want the extra time to see you."

You huff at the flirt, not believing just how bold your demon can get under the right circumstances. (The circumstances being chained to the bed as you lay on top of him.) Leaning down you place the headphones around his ears and give him a moment to adjust.

"Wow, this is really weird! Woah! I can't even hear my voice! Am I being loud? I feel loud!"

Rolling your eyes you lean down and tap Mammon twice against the forehead - the signal you two came up with when you want to check in.

"I'm really to go! Just give me one last moment to look into your eyes -" Mammon stares into your eyes unblinking for a solid five seconds "- I'm good to go!"

Wrapping the blindfold around his head you plunge your demon into darkness.

And it is incredibly weird for Mammon. As a demon he has pretty good night vision, so even in complete darkness he can make out shapes pretty well. So being in complete darkness takes him a moment to get used to.

The warmth of your body grounds him, and it doesn't take long before he's relaxing into the plush bed.

Shimmy downwards, you try to make yourself comfortable sitting between Mammon's legs, sitting right in front of his cock. Leaning down you give the half hard cock a puff of air and watch as Mammon jumps at the sensation.

"Th-that felt weird. It felt like, a lot? Even though it was so little?" Mammon mumbles, and you wonder if you're going to get a rubbing commentary the entire night.

Maybe you should have added a gag to your myriad of tools.

Wrapping your hands around your demon's dick you begin to slowly pump it. Mammon gasps at the feeling, before moaning and leaning into your touch. Your touch is light and extremely slow, but the demon has always been extremely sensitive and it doesn't take much before he's nearly spilling.

"I'm cumming-"

Your hands fly away at his words, and he growls in annoyance. With a grin, he can't see you bounce off of the bed and begin looking through your toy chest. Normally Mammon would be peaking over, curious about what you'll pick out. But seeing as he can't currently do that, you grin as you realize that you're going to completely surprise him with whatever you pick.

As Mammon comes down from his high he realizes that you're no longer on the bed. The warmth he previously felt emulating from you is gone, and his heart quickens as he realizes that he's alone.

"Hey, what's the big idea? Where'd you go?" Mammon calls out.

You roll your eyes at the dramatics, too busy with shifting through the toy box. "In a minute, Mamms, I'm just getting a few toys." You answer, half forgetting that he can't currently hear. Mammon was just so loud, so responsive, that you momentarily let it slip from your mind that he didn't actually expect a response from you, and couldn't receive one.

Mammon tries his best to calm down. Surely you're just messing with him, right? Wanting to make him crack and beg for your touch? You do like to make him beg. Yup, that's it. You were just teasing him.

You are still definitely in the room with him.

Right?

Seconds become minutes to Mammon as he strains his ears to hear you. Normally he knew exactly where you were and what you were doing, even when he was kneeling and staring at the ground his demon senses allow him to hear everything. Now he has no idea where you are or what you're doing.

"Ok, fine, fine! I give! Can you please touch me?" Mammon whines.

Picking up the fleshlight you want to use on him you intend to do just that. Only to realize that the demon forgot to clean it. Gagging you put the toy aside to clean later, and decide to punish your demon by continuing to ignore him by looking through the toy box.

"Come on, please." His voice takes on a real edge of desperation as he starts to spiral.

What if you left? What if you got bored of him and decided that you didn't want to play with him anymore? Is he all alone, begging to an empty room because he wasn't good enough? He begins to fight against his chains in earnest now, instead of the teasing, testing pulls he's used to. But he finds that they're locked up tight and that he can't break out of them.

Will you hear his safeword if he says it?

Finally finding a suitable and clean toy you stand up and stretch. Glancing over at your boyfriend, you notice that he's strangely calm as he's no longer begging or struggling against the chains. You believe that he's just pouting and the second you touch him he'll start whining about you taking forever.

Before you can reach him, Mammon mumbles out a soft, broken, "Goldie".

Dropping the toy in your hand you rush over to him and immediately remove the headphones before moving onto the blindfold.

"Hey, hey it's alright. I'm right here." You mumble, hands shaking as you lean up to undo the cuffs.

Mammon has never safeworded before, and you're kinda panicking at the moment, but you do your best to remain calm as you rush to take off the chains.

The second Mammon lays eyes on you he lunges at you, pinning you to the bed in a hug. His arms are firm, yet they shake as they hold you. It takes you a moment to realize that the wetness you feel on your neck is from Mammon, but once you do you coo in sympathy.

"I thought you left me," Mammon whispers into your chest.

Blinking back tears you lean down to kiss the demon's forehead.

"I would never leave you alone like that Mamms. I just wanted to get a toy from the toy chest. I'm sorry, I should have communicated that to you."

"It's alright just... I don't think blindfolds and noise-canceling headphones are for me."

"That's OK, that's alright. Sometimes we're going to find stuff we don't like."

Levi:

Levi is an extremely obedient sub. In your many months of dating each other he never once received a punishment. You two set out rules together, with him not being allowed to touch himself without your permission and him being required to leave his room and go to RAD a certain number of times each month.

You had expected a rule to be broken at least once, so you were very surprised to see that it never was. Levi was just obedient, and even when he didn't want to do the thing you ordered him to do, he did it. (Even with an excessive bit of whining)

So you were content to never punish your scaly demon.

Levi wasn't.

"Why do you never punish me," Levi asks, pouting in his bathtub. His face is partially hidden by the pillow he's clenching to his chest.

"Because you never actually break a rule or be a brat?"

"Hmmmmm," Levi pouts. "It's not fair! You punish the others! Yet you never punish me. Is it because you don't want to? Because you could never bring yourself to punish a gross otaku like me?"

Holding back a laugh you crawl into the bathtub. Really, only your Levi could be envious of those you've punished.

"Well, if you're so interested in being punished, why don't you do something bad?"

Levi's eyes snap towards yours, like he never actually considered that option. "Gahhhh?!? Be, be bad? How could I, wouldn't you hate me forever?!"

Softening you reach across the tub to cup Levi's face in your hands. Moving his shocked face towards yours you pepper his face in kisses.

"Nope! Levi, I could never hate you." You say softly, stopping your kissing momentarily to gaze sincerely at your boyfriend.

Levi blushes at the look and hides his face in the pillow that's currently squished between you two.

"O-ok, if you say you wouldn't hate me, I'll, I'll try being bad!"

You walk towards Levi's room with a pep in your step, excited to continue playing the new RPG the demon recently brought. You only stopped playing last night as your eyes burned too much for you to continue looking at the screen.

As you cheerfully open the door to Levi's room you immediately notice that something is off about the demon. Instead of excitedly smiling at you and handing a controller over to you, he's curled up on his gaming chair and nervously fidgeting with the blanket wrapped around his shoulders.

"What's wrong?" You ask. Standing over your boyfriend you check him over. Did Mammon steal something of his again? Was an anime he liked canceled?

Levi shakes off your concern and reaches for a controller. "N-nothing is wrong! We don't we start playing?"

He shoves the controller into your hand before scurrying off to turn on the game console. Unsure of what else to do to help your nervous demon you follow along, thinking that he'll open up once you start playing.

As the title screen of the game pops up you see Levi nervously staring at you in the corner of your eye, and you debate asking again if he's alright. Before you're able the title sequence stops and you press the "play" button. A column of saves pops up, and in your confusion, you momentarily forget about Levi's nervousness completely.

"Levi, where's my save?" You ask, flicking between the different saves, yours mysteriously gone.

"Oh well. Um. I sorta maybe, deleted it?" He says in a whisper so quiet you have to strain to hear it.

Snapping your head towards him you watch as Levi nervously fidgets. His left arm is covering his face in a classic sign of Levi's nervousness as a blush paints his cheeks.

Wait. Blush?

All of a sudden your previous conversation about punishment from yesterday comes back to you. You honestly didn't believe that Levi would gather up the courage to do something "bad", so you're momentarily impressed that he did.

All previous concerns about your save fly out the window, as you're sure that Levi backed up the save and is only pretending to have deleted it to elicit this punishment. Stalking forward you wrap your arms around your demon's shoulders and force him to face you.

"Oh, did you know? I didn't know my little demon could be so.... naughty~" You tease.

Levi's face darkens, at both your close proximity and your words. His mouth opens to defend himself but no words make it out. You watch as Levi reboots himself as you teasingly rub circles onto his shoulders.

As moments pass by and Levi is nowhere closer to calming down, you decide to pick up the lead again. "Does my demon want to be punished? Is that it? Were you sitting here in your room wondering what you could do to make me mad and pull you over my knee?"

Wordlessly Levi nods and confirmation, and you can't help but laugh a little. Even when being punished your demon can't help but be good for you.

Returning to your chair once again, you pat your chair and pat your thighs expectingly. Rushing to comply Levi lays across your thighs, and you give him a warning smack of what's to come.

"Ah!" Levi cries out, more in surprise than any real pain, as it will take a lot more than a little smack to hurt a demon Iike him.

It's not the first time you had Levi over your knee, though the previous times were more to explore a curiosity than for a punishment. Yet the previous experiences fill you with confidence, as you know where to smack to tease him, and where to smack that will cause him real pain.

As Levi gets himself situated on your lap you pull down his pants in one quick motion, jeans and all. The demon shivers as cold air meets his rear and you laugh at the pout he gives you in response.

Testing out the waters you give the bare ass a firm smack, and delight in the way Levi flinches at being caught off guard.

"Ah hmmm!" Levi moans, thrusting back for more.

"I expect you to count and thank me after each hit Levi-chan." You say sternly.

"O-one! Thank you, Master!"

Grinning you continue, giving your demon a few more smacks. You didn't give him a number on purpose, as you want to see how many smacks it'll take before his ass is a bright red and he's sobbing out for mercy.

As his ass gets redder and redder Levi begins to squirm against you, thrusting his hips against your thighs. You sigh in response, deep and disappointed, and the sound snaps Levi out of his pleasure filled hazy.

"No grinding against me. This is a punishment, remember? You're not supposed to be enjoying this."

Your tone is harsh, and it sends Levi flinching. You never sounded so.... frustrated in a scene before. Levi is used to you being teasing and gentle, always there with a soft word and a teasing touch. The idea of you being upset with him sends him spiraling.

Tensing up Levi tries his hardest to sit still and obey you, believing that maybe if he shows you that he can be good, and is willing to listen to your commands, you'll praise him. (You'll still want him.)

The next few swings of your fast, delivered before Levi has the chance to count them individually. Because of this, he miscounts them.

"Fifteen, s-sixteen, seventeen! Th-thank you, master."

Slowly, as Levi catches his breath your hand trails upward before suddenly wrapping tightly around his hair. Pulling him upward you lean down to whisper in your best Disappointed Dom voice: "Are you sure you counted right?"

Levi feels his heart stop at your words. He did, right?! He wouldn't miscount - didn't mean to miscount! He swears! It was an accident-

Slowly you watch as Levi's breath starts to stutter, stopping completely before gasping in and out. Immediately you drop your hold and Levi begins to hyperventilate against you.

"Sorry, I'm s-sorry. Didn't -gasp- didn't mean to! Sorry!"

Instantly you pick the demon up and hold his back towards his chest, hopeful that the extra room will allow him to calm down, as you begin mumbling praise into his ear.

"Hey, hey, it's ok! I'm not angry, I promise! There's no need to be sorry, it's ok, I forgive you."

Eventually, Levi gets his breathing under control, and he collapses against you once he does. Shifting him slightly, you pull him into your chest and he immediately buries his face into your neck. You continue to whisper praise as you being to gently stroke his back, allowing Levi the time to compose himself.

"I'm sorry." Is the first thing he says when he does.

"I know baby, I know. There's nothing to apologize for, though, you know that right? When I was disappointed that was only a part of the scene, right? Like when you sometimes pretend to not like something when you do."

Mutely you feel Leve nod against you.

"I, I didn't actually delete your save. I have it backed up on my computer."

"I know, sweetheart, I know." You whisper before leaning down to kiss the top of his head.

"How about this, we continue sitting here for a bit longer, and then we both get something to eat and drink. Then we have a little chat about the scene before loading up my save?"

Levi grumbles at the idea of actually having to talk about what happened, but he nods against you once.

"Good boy. That's my good boy."

Satan:

You hold up a pair of handcuffs and Satan grins.

You two haven't played around with the idea of bondage much, there were other kinks that you wanted to try out first. Sure, you toyed around with pinning his hands down to the bed or ordering him to sit still while you edged him. But you two have yet to use any tool to bind him.

A distinct click echoes throughout the room as you fasten the cuff to his right hand before moving to his left. His hands are looped around the bedframe, stopping him from reaching down to touch himself or you as you play with him.

A wise choice seeing as you plan to edge him until he's sobbing.

The first edge passes through him well, only resulting in a choked-off groan before you give him a few moments to calm down. As you do Satan begins to pull at the handcuffs, testing out their strength.

As he pulls his hands back and forth he feels his heartbeat pick up for a different reason. A looming sense of dread slowly starts to creep in, but before he can focus on it you begin to stroke his dick once again.

Arousal floods through his system once again, but so does anxiety. As he chases his denied relief once more he pulls against the handcuffs, flinching when they make a loud clicking noise as they scrape against the headboard.

When you shift away to allow him to cool off the anxiety settles in replacing all thoughts of arousal. He begins to fight earnestly against the handcuffs, pushing and pulling them, trying to will them to break. But they're strong cuffs, made out of demon-resistant metal and almost impossible to break.

In your mind all you can see is Satan shaking against the bed, sneaking out the pleasure you've denied him. But in Satan's, he's reliving an experience he hasn't felt in thousands of years: entrapment.

Memories of heavy chains wrapping around his body, caging him in and denying his escape as he withers and shakes in rage. Memories of dark closets and being chained to this very same bed as he screamed out curses and profanities until his throat bleed.

He thought he was past this stage of his life, where he was angry and trapped. Caged like a wild animal.

"S-SHAKESPEARE!" Satan growls out your safeword - a safeword that has never been used before.

It takes you a second to realize what he said, but once you do you're on him in an instant. Reaching up you fumble with the keys to the handcuffs as Satan struggles beneath you. You whisper praise and assurances as you unlock the cuffs, but you doubt he can hear you.

The moment he's free Satan flinches backward, his back hitting the wall as he scrambles to get away from you. His eyes are wide, his pupils are pinpricks as he studies the world around him. Akin to a wild, caged animal he crotches down like he's preparing to lunge, his chest rising and falling rapidly.

You know he wouldn't attack you, yet you do your best to look passive as you raise your hands in surrender.

It takes a few moments, but eventually, Satan comes back to himself. He seems to realize where he is, and what's going on, as he composes himself.

"Baby, are you ok?" You ask in a low, gentle tone.

And Satan breaks.

He completely shatters as he rushes into your arms. You barely have time to realize what's going on before you feel your chest wetten as Satan begins to sob.

"Oh, sweetheart, I'm so sorry." You mumble, hands lightly touching Satan's head. When he leans into the touch you begin gently petting him.

"It's, sniff, it's ok. You didn't know I would react like that. I didn't even know I would react like that."

"Still, I saw you struggling against the handcuffs, I should have checked up on you."

Satan doesn't know what to say to that, too tired to try to argue with you so he simply hums in response. After a few minutes of sitting in comfortable silence, your hands threading through his hair, he leans up and rubs the remainder of the tears out of his eyes.

"Do you want to talk about it? Or would you rather we do something else?" You ask, rubbing circles into his back.

"Can we read a bit first?" Satan asks, and on a normal day he would cringe at how timid he sounds, but he's too tired to care right now.

One day he'll tell you about his "childhood". About this memories of chains and ropes, of dark rooms and confined spaces, of rage and curses.

But now he just wants you to hold him as the two of you pour over a good murder mystery, him free to move around and shift, and you with your hands wrapped around his waist.

Asmo:

You and Asmo tried nearly every kink known to man, and even some only known to demons. So you know when Asmo's limits lie, and he knows yours. You know when he's fake whining to get a rise out of you, and when his cries border on actually "too much", you can tell the difference between pleasure tears and pain tears, and after many many conversations you know what kinks he absolutely wouldn't want to try under any circumstances.

Fortunately, polygamy wasn't one of them.

It wasn't often the two of you invited another into your bed, you could entertain each other just fine. But sometimes you wanted to see Asmo dom another person, or Asmo wanted to show off his skills next to a less experienced sub, and gangbangs were just fun! You only had two hands, and sometimes you wanted to see Asmo be taken apart by a dozen.

The orgy the two of you are going to tonight didn't have a "main character", but it was hosted by a prominent sex toy brand owner, and Asmo said that the snack bar was "to die for". So you decided to give it a try.

Asmo was being a brat the whole car ride over, pawing at your jacket and trying to kiss you. Trying to save the poor Uber driver you tell your demon to behave, but Asmo only giggles in response as he tries, and fails, to undo your buttons.

You hope that once you got to the orgy Asmo would settle down, but he's committed to being a brat. As you hand over your coat to the door demon, Asmo rushes ahead of you and sits down onto the lap of a demon he knows, who is very clearly in the middle of having their dick sucked by another attendee.

He tries to persuade them to let him take over and replace their sub's spot, but you're able to pull Asmo away by his collar and onto your lap.

For one glorious moment, you believe that this calms your demon down enough to start behaving, as he quiets down once as he gets settled. It wasn't long after that another demon started up a conversation with you, asking if you were the legendary exchange student, and how you felt about RAD.

While you talked Asmo absentmindedly sucks on your fingers. He tries squirming against your lap, but one smack to his thigh was a clear message for him to calm down.

Or so you thought.

When Asmo continues to grind against you and begins adding teeth to his sucking, you snap. If he was so determined to be punished tonight, he would get punished.

Rising you stand before Asmo wearing your best Disappointed Dom look. He giggles at the look, clearly happy that he thinks he's getting what he wants. That is a public spanking.

You have different plans though, and you walk towards a corner of the room no one is standing near. Snapping your fingers at the corner you command your demon:

"Asmo, over here now."

Asmo rushes off the couch to obey as he skips over. He eyes you a curious look as you force him to his knees, obviously not expecting his punishment to be somewhere so out of the way and private. You pay it no mind, and when he sinks to the floor and assumes a standard kneeling position you give him another command:

"You're not to move, and unless it's your safeword you're not allowed to speak either until I say your punishment is over."

He pouts as he feels the command take hold, staring up at you with pleading eyes. But you don't allow yourself to be swayed.

"Since you were so determined to be a brat and not be patient, this is your punishment. When I think you're finally to sit still I will release you."

You give him one last pat on the head before making your way back to the couch.

As you resume your conversation with the other demon about RAD, more demons start to join in. Some are curious about your life as an exchange student while others are more concerned with the reason why you're here.

A bold demon leaned in close and whispered something in your ear, causing you to blush and gently swat their arm. After that it was like the other demons suddenly remember that they were at an orgy and not a press conference, and began cuddling up to you.

All the while Asmo stews from his spot kneeling in the corner. At first, he was upset at you for hiding him, but now that you're getting more and more attention a prickle of envy runs through him. Not at you, but at the demons now vying for your attention. You should be focused on him - even if it was to punish him.

Normally Asmo wouldn't mind you getting cozy with a few other demons, under different circumstances he would have been delighted to sit back and watch as you had your way with a few of them. Now? When he's hidden away in a corner, forgotten?

Something stings in Asmo, and he desperately tries to whine out for your attention, but the command stops him. All that leaves him is the wheeze of his chest as he desperately tries to force words out of his mouth. Your safeword was on the tip of his tongue, and if you two were alone he wouldn't hesitate to say it, but something about being in a room full of demons stop him.

He's the Avatar the lust, and this is barely a punishment, what would the other demons say if they saw him use his safeword just because he was put into a corner? He knows that safewording isn't a sign of weakness, but he can't shake the thought of what rumors might follow him if he shows vulnerability.

But when he sees a demon crawl into your lap, and you kiss them on the lips, he can't help but yell out a desperate "Majolish"!

Immediately you push the demon out of your lap and rush toward Asmo. Your knees hit the ground with a loud thud but you pay it no mind you kneel before the now sobbing demon.

"All commands are over! Asmo are you ok, what happened?!"

Asmo doesn't waste a second as his arms shot around you and pull you close. As he sobs into your chest your hands slowly wrap around your demon, trying to piece together what went wrong. You don't get must time to think before Asmo's lips are on yours, kissing you desperately, which you quickly return with enthusiasm. Asmo calms down once you make it clear that you desire him, slumping into your chest.

When you break for air you timidly look around the room and breathe a sigh of relief as you notice that the surrounding demons are making an effort not you look in your direction. As you make eye contact with a demon they mouth out a "side room" while pointing at a closed door.

Understanding that this must be some type of aftercare room, or simply a private room couples can retreat into, you quickly pull Asmo up and lead him into the room. As you make it through the doorway you relax as you see that no one else is in there and gently push Amso onto the bed.

"Asmo, sweetheart, darling, we don't have to talk about what happened right away, but I do want to make you feel better. Can you please tell me if there's anything I can do?"

Asmo, whose been holding your hand in a death grip slowly nods as his other hand wipes at his tears.

"Yeah, yes of course. Just can you, can you hold me for a bit?" His voice gets quieter at the end. "Maybe tell me you love me?"

It's rare to see Asmo so shaken up, even after using his safeword, and something breaks inside of you. But you're determined to focus on him, and you nod.

"Of course baby, scout over."

Asmo does as he's told and you're quick to pull him into a tight hug before you begin to slowly rock him back and forth. All the while whispering praise into his ear about how much you adore him, and how beautiful he is.

Beel:

It seemed so simple when you suggested the idea: why not mix two of Beel's biggest pleasures and bring food into the bedroom?

You haven't had much experience with food play before, but after doing some research (watching porn on DevilHub and writing down things you found hot), you were confident you could make food sexy.

After discussing what will happen in the scene, you and Beel come up with a game plan. Beel was a bit worried about not being able to focus on sex when he was eating, so you proposed a solution: you will command Beel to sit still and tease him with food from Madam Screams. When he's a good boy and shows patience, you'll reward him by feeding him a piece of food and then stroking his dick. Trapping in a cycle of wanting pleasure, and being hungry.

The start of the scene went according to plan, with Beel able to control himself as he sinks to his knees in front of you. You dangle a curly fry in front of his face, and Beel drools at the sight.

Teasing him you press the fry against his lips and tell him by a good boy and hold it there. Like a dog, Beel obeys and holds the treat against his lips and makes no move to bite. While your other hand sinks to the edge of his boxers.

Palming his dick Beel lets out a guttural groan, the motion causing the fry to ever so slightly push past his lips and he gets a slight taste of the slaty goodness before you rip it away. The glutton barely has time to mourn that loss before he sinks into pleasure once more as you pull his dick out of his underwear.

Already hard and dripping Beel's dick bounces against his stomach, and you coo in delight.

"Oh baby, you're already so wet for me. Excited already?"

Beel moans in response, unable to think clearly as it was growing harder to think through the pleasure filled haze of his mind.

Wrapping your hand around your dick you give it a firm tug, just how he likes it. All thoughts of food and hunger spill out of his mind as you begin playing with his dick.

Until you press the curly fry against his nose and he breathes in the scent. Hunger overtakes him once more as he tries to lunge for it, but you move it away before he's able. Pressing a firm finger against his slit Beel groans as he's stuck in a tug of war between his two different desires. Food, and sex.

As you deny him his treat once again a growl rumbles through his chest and you pause. Beel has never growled like that during sex before. Smiling you continue to jack him off, but Beel is less excited about his rough growl. He normally tries so hard to keep his hunger rage away from you, what if he loses control?

You don't give him much time to worry about concern as you pump him toward an orgasm. Yet the moment Beel feels like he's going to tip over, your hands retreat and he's left wanting.

As a reward you pop the fry into the demon's panting mouth and he instantly inhales it. But it doesn't provide him much relief as he just feels hungrier.

Beel is used to fighting off his hunger and he's used to you edging him. But dealing with both at once? It's an overwhelming, all encompassing desire he never felt before.

And he's not sure if he likes it.

As you lean down to touch his dick once again Beel lets out a throaty whine, sounding more desperate than you ever heard him before. Horny, but worried you glance up at your gentle giant.

"Are you doing alright, buddy?"

"Hungry- no, horny. I can't, I don't know. I want to stop." He rushes out the last part quickly, but you hear it all the same.

"Oh! OK, alright. Yeah, we can stop no problem. Um, which one do you want first? Do you want me to get you off first or do you want to eat first?"

Beel moans hopelessly at the question, and you mentally berate yourself for even asking. It's not like he can't do both at once.

Shoving a handful of fries into his mouth you begin pumping his dick in earnest now, determined to actually get him off this time. Every time Beel moans in hunger you're quick to feed him more food, and Beel is treated to the sensation of eating while getting pleasure.

It doesn't take long for him to cum, shooting into your hands and getting a bit of your chin as he does. As he breathes out a sigh of relief he lays boneless against you, and you remember to finally undo the sit still command you previously placed on him.

Patting his back with one hand the other reaches over to grab a nearby drink and you hand it to him to help wash down the food. After he downs it one gulp he leans back to give you a dopey, but incredibly fond look.

"That was nice. I liked it when you feed me while jacking me off."

Grinning at the honesty, you lean in and kiss your demon.

"Thank you. I liked how desperate you were and how to relied on me to give you everything you wanted. What about the teasing?"

"I.... didn't like that. I was afraid I'll get too needy and hurt you." Beel says the last part ashamed and you're quick to lean up to give him another kiss.

"I get that, it seemed like a lot. If you want to do this again I would tease you again, I promise."

Beel grins, and you momentarily mourn your wallet at how much food you'll be buying in the future. But that fond look is enough to banish all mournful thoughts in an instant.

"I'll like that."

- Belphie:

Belphie being a brat isn't a new development for you. He's been a brat since the first time you bedded him. Which resulted in a lot of punishments. A lot.

You almost believe that Belphie prefers to be punished than his regular scenes, and that makes you want to up the ante and show him a real punishment is like. Maybe you'll finally convince him to be obedient for once.

So you got a new toy you wanted to try with him, a paddle. It's a thick, strong paddle. Made in the Devildom because you don't think a human realm one will survive Belphie's ass.

Yet the demon doesn't so much as cower when you present the toy to him after he caused you to sleep in and miss class again. Well, you'll show him. You'll have him pleading for mercy in no time.

The Avatar of Sloth, true to his name, doesn't put up any type of a fight as you pull him across your lap. Only grinning when you pull his pants down and you notice that he's not wearing any underwear.

"You were really committed to being a brat today, weren't you?" You tease, giving the demon a quick pop on the ass with the paddle.

Belphie moans at the sensation, and giggles a cheeky "no". Wasting no time with foreplay you get right into business by delivering a fury of blows to the demon's plush. You don't bother to tell him to count them, knowing that he wouldn't, or that he'll miscount on purpose.

Moaning at the feeling Belphie arches his back as he leans into the swatting, enjoying the pushing sensation.

Yet, as time continues and you keep hitting and his ass gets redder and redder Belphie starts to feel weird..... tender. You normally don't cause him to feel this raw until much later in his punishment. When both of your hands sting with the amount of blows you dealt, the two of you are out of breath and ready to tear each other's clothes off.

As you strike down the paddle once again, Belphie feels something he hasn't felt in a very long time:

Pain

Sure, your spankings hurt before. But it was more of a force, a push, a physical reaction to movement than any real kind of pain.

And Belphie is not prepared to handle real pain. As the spoiled youngest of the Avatars, he's used to not having to lift a finger. This made your punishments even more exciting as Belphie felt the closest he did to pain he felt in a long time, without actually crossing over into actual pain.

He may not be as physically resistant as Beel or Lucifer, but he's still an Avatar, a high class demon who can take a lot before anything even fazes him.

Which makes this situation laughable.

A simple human like you, causing him, a ruler of the Devildom, pain? It's impossible, it should be impossible.

Yet here he is, forcing back tears as a flimsy wooden paddle causes him pain he hasn't felt since the Celestial War. He wants to laugh, but he wants to cry even more.

The safeword is on the tip of his tongue, but he refuses to cave. He's been spanked dozens of times before, why should he admit defeat over a stupid paddle? He knows you'll disagree with him framing it like that, but you're too busy creating welts on his ass to argue with Belphie's mind.

When you show no signs of stopping or slowing down, Belphie starts to crack. For once he just wants a punishment to be over and for him to apologize and for you to hold him in your arms.

When you strike down once more, Belphie cries out a "No!" That's a little too desperate, a little too panicked, that snaps you out of your rhythm

"Baby?" You ask, placing the paddle next to you. "Are you ok? Do you need a breather?" You know not to suggest stopping, as Belphie will scoff at the notion before edging you on, but something about the way he's flinching makes you want to pause the scene for a moment.

"No," Belphie sniffs, hand reaching upward to rub the tears out of his. "No I'm fine, keep going." He insits, but you notice the way he leans away from you as he says it. Belphie may be a brat, he may pretend to huff and hate punishments, but he never shifted away from you during a scene pause.

Placing down the paddle beside you, you host Belphie up and press him against your chest. The moment you do he's hiding his face in your shirt, an act of shyness that's out of character for the demon.

"Belphie, baby, are you ok? We can stop if you want to."

Belphie sniffles against your shift and you raise your hands to rub comforting circles into his skin.

"I'm fine, just.... I'm not letting a stupid paddle break me." He mumbles out the last part, but you're able to catch the gist of it and you frown.

"You know that's now how that works. You're not admitting defeat, or saying you're not strong enough if you use your safeword."

Believe grumbles out a response you don't catch, but you doubt he's agreeing with you. Shifting his head upwards you create eye contact between the two of you, and don't relent until he's staring into your eyes.

"What if I didn't want to do something and so I used our safeword? Am I breaking then?"

Belphie pouts, knowing that he'll never think any less of you if you were to use the safeword. So reluctantly he shakes his head.

"Well, why's it any different for you? Because you're a demon?"

He flashes pink at being so easily read, and he keeps his mouth shut as he shrinks down.

"No, but......" Belphie trails off, unsure of what to say. Smiling softly you lean forward to press a kiss into his lips, one he's quick to mirror.

"Alrighty, so no more holding in your safeword, ok?"

With an exaggerated sigh, Belphie nods before cuddling up to you. As you lay down with your arms wrapped around him, careful to shift him so his tender ass isn't touching anything, you begin stroking his hair. In the following silence, all that can be heard is the steady rise and fall of both of your chests before Belphie says determined:

"I'm going to burn that paddle though."

#obey me #obey me smut #obeymesmut #obey me dom!reader #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me levi #obey me asmo #obey me satan #obey me Beel #obey me belphie #my post #i swear this post was SUPPOSED to be short and sweet.#a little break while i work on my OTHER incredibly long fic #but then i kept thinking about Satan getting flashbacks to when he was tied up in NB and i had to write it #why i didnt just post my original short thoughts and then add Satan's part in a reblog #idk.#and since i written a mini fic for satan OBVIOUSLY i had to do it for the rest of the brothers!!#ok but ive been working on this for a few days. when i had a bit of freetime ill write a brothers part #the actual order i wrote these in was Satan. Asmo. Lucifer. Mammons and Levis got mixed up because i went inbetween them whenever i got #tired of working on their part #then Beel and then Belphie #idk if that like. shows lol #anyways. um. thank you for the ask!!!#i obviously thought about it really hard lol #i actually planned on having Beel safeword too and have him call Red #because in my mind you explained te concept of safewords to Beel and started off with red yellow green #and Beel just never bothered to create a new one #i actually didnt think ill do well at writing food play because im not personally into it but like. i kinda like it?#some of these didnt follow the prompty exactly bc i got tireddddd lol

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osamusriceballs · 1 year ago

Text

The Accident Part VIII

Atsumu x fem reader

Warnings: None

Words: ~ 2k

About: You finally meet your good friend <3

Part I II -> Next part

"You know each other?!"

You stare at Atsumu with wide eyes, who just stares at the short blonde next to you and raises his eyebrows as if he just had an epiphany.

"Where have I—wait. Karasuno. Karasuno's manager! You're a friend of Shoyo-kun!" Atsumu's eyes shine when he talks about Karasuno, and you furrow your brows when you remember that it's the name of Yachi's old school. "Shoyo-kun? Like—Hinata Shoyo?" You ask, recalling a bright orange-haired man you've met a few times already when Yachi had invited you to drink with her and her friends. They had always been a lively bunch, definitely growing on you the more often you saw them.

"Hmm, we work together," Atsumu nods, and you blankly stare at him while you try to digest that piece of information. You know that Hinata is a professional volleyball player. Very professional. Olympics level professional. He offered you cards to his games quite a few times, and you had politely declined, not wanting to cause him trouble, but he had sent you tickets anyway for a game in a few weeks.

That probably means that Atsumu is a professional player too—or he might be some kind of manager, according to the vague statement that they are working together. His physique and his posture tell you that he potentially could be an athlete- you would believe that in a second.

"Working together like... playing volleyball too?" You ask for clarification, tilting your head curiously while you watch his reaction. His lips curl into a smug smile, and the confidence he's radiating now makes your legs turn into jelly.

"Yeah. I'm a professional, just like Shoyo-kun. He loves my sets, by the way. Always aces them with no problem."

His eyes capture yours and you hang on his every word, definitely surprised by the development. You're married to a probably very famous professional Olympia volleyball player. You're not even sure what to think about this; the new details just made the whole situation more absurd and unrealistic. The only good thing is that Yachi apparently knows him. You could maybe get more information out of Yachi about him later.

"I—wait. The marriage—you married ATSUMU MIYA?" Your attention shifts to Yachi, who turns almost worryingly red, and you quickly step closer to her and reach for her arm, trying to calm her down. "Yes, but it's okay. He's a good guy, okay?" You smile encouragingly, and Yachi takes a few hasty loud breaths before she nods.

Atsumu watches you both and awkwardly clears his throat, a faint blush covering his cheeks at your words, and rubs the back of his head. "I'll leave ya two alone then. I'll call ya, y/n."

The last thing you see is his smile before he turns around and walks away with his hands in his pockets now. His broad back is evident, especially when he's wearing the white dress shirt, and you can't help but admire the man for a second before Yachi enters your sight once again.

"Y/n! - what happened?!"

xxx

"I can't believe you're married to Atsumu Miya!" she exclaims, still sounding shocked as she repeats the same sentence for the third time after you managed to tell her the fully story during the car ride. Both of you sit on her comfortable plush couch, adorned with a few of her stylish designer blankets. You're glad to be in a familiar place finally, but you can't help but to think about Atsumu. Will he call or leave a message soon? You wouldn't mind him calling today already- just to make sure you have his number. Nothing else. Just to clear that whole marriage thing. And nothing else.

You nod with a mild smile an attempt to calm her slight panic. Atsumu has assured you that everything will be taken care of, and you find yourself actually trusting him. "It'll be okay. You mentioned he's a good guy, right? I mean, he's friends with Hinata."

Yachi deeply inhales and takes a sip of her tea and nods. "He's close to Hinata. They get along really well. But let me tell you, Atsumu Miya in high school is something else. His serves were powerful and terrifying- not as much as today, but still enough to keep us all on the edge. Even Nishinoya had a hard time receiving them. Atsumu-san and Osamu-san managed to copy Hinata's and Kageyama's special attack effortlessly. It was insane. Maybe we can find a recording of it."

She grabs the remote to turn on the TV, and you lean forward eagerly at the thought of seeing more of Atsumu. "I wonder what Atsumu looked like in high school," you muse, taking a sip of your tea, its slight bitterness complementing the rich flavor. "He basically still looks the same. His hair got a bit brighter, and I think he grew a bit. And gained mass," Yachi responds, finding what she's looking for with an excited squeal. "Here!"

You both watch how a much younger Atsumu raises his arm and much to your surprise the whole crowd falls silent. "What- that's not normal, is it?" You turn to Yachi who seems slightly pale, probably because she remembers the moment vividly. "That's normal for Atsumu Miya. He was so good and popular that he got that special treatment. It helps him to focus. Oh, and watch his steps! You can tell what kind of serve he's going to make by the number of his steps."

You diligently nod and watch him serve again, taking six steps this time. The camera angle is a tad bit closer this time, and you don't fail to see his yellow-ish hair that definitely looks different compared to his looks today. He was very fit, even back then, but he is definitely more buff today.

You watch some more of Atsumu's powerful serves, his form screaming utmost perfection, and memories of the very same strong, muscular arms wrapped around you make heat rush to your cheeks. Yachi continues to share insights about his playing style, and you quickly try to focus on her words.

"...their combined attacks are difficult to anticipate. But look at how Kei blocks it!" You nod enthusiastically while you observe Tsukishima's impressive block. The video then shifts to another game, showcasing Atsumu in a black uniform adorned with yellow claw prints on his sleeves.

"Oh, that's from the MSBY game! You should have seen him; there's this amazing set—" Yachi's words trail off as the camera cuts to an unusual angle, revealing Atsumu's impressive thighs in full glory as he sets the ball with a ridiculously seductive smile. Your jaw drops at the unexpected sight- you know for sure you would have fainted if you saw that scene in live. How dare he look so good while setting the ball?? "Look, Hinata easily managed to hit that! And there's Bokuto-san!" You recognize the orange-haired spiker, sharing a smile and high-five with Bokuto. "I can't believe that they all actually know each other."

"Yeah," Yachi smiles and nods. "Hinata always talks about Atsumu-san. And Bokuto-san is close with Osamu-san, I think. I've seen him post a few pictures with Akaashi-san at Onigiri-Miya."

"Is that the name of his restaurant? Atsumu said he would take me there someday." Yachi gives you a side-eye, and reaches for her phone. "You've gotten pretty close, haven't you? You seemed really flustered when-" You quickly interrupt her, "No! I—I don't even know him. I don't even have his number. He was just being nice, we're not really close."

Yachi nods with a small grin, and hands you her phone. "Here. That's his Instagram. He's also often at Onigiri Miya. It seems like he's very proud of his brother's success. I though you might want to have a look at his life."

"Thank you." Yachi is truly a great friend, and you feel once again fond of being close to her. As you scroll through Atsumu's Instagram, you find a mix of game snapshots, some pictures with Osamu, in which he always has a plate full of food in front of him, and you can't help but zoom into the plates, impressed by the neatly arranged dishes. As you keep on scrolling, you almost gasp loudly when you find a very surprising collaboration with Calvin Klein, featuring a shirtless Atsumu from a very close perspective. At first, you keep on scrolling, too flustered at the sudden revealing picture, but curiosity makes you go back after a few moments, and you look at the picture again.

He looks good. His muscles are well-defined and he grins seductively for the camera while he poses, clad in only a ripped pair of jeans. It's almost unfair how ridiculously attractive he looks, but you still think that he looks even better when he's just woken up, just like he did this morning. You exhale loudly and curiously click on the comments.

"I would pay real money to have him like this in my bed." "Christmas came early this year- and so did I." "Bless the Miya genes. I'd gladly help to spread them." "Thank you Calvin Klein. I'll make sure to get a pair of these pants." "*FAINTS* HE'S SO HOT, I CAN'T-"

You're startled when you notice how the comments get even more unhinged and shameless as you keep on scrolling. "He... has a lot of fans," you remark, scrolling back to the top and handing Yachi her phone back, to which she nods heavily. "He had his own fan club in high school, and ever since the Japanese team won the Olympics, the whole team has been very popular. Especially Atsumu-san and Sakusa-san."

You hesitate before asking the next question, uncertain of what the answer might bring. "Is there a reason why he's single? He seems like a decent guy, looks good, and he's probably rich. Isn't he the perfect catch?"

Yachi furrows her brows, thinking. "I don't know, actually. It's probably the same as with Hinata and Kageyama. They focus a lot on their careers; they simply don't have time for dating. I also found out that most volleyball boys can be a bit... intense. It's probably hard to find a partner that understands their passion. They prioritize training over anything else. I've never seen Hinata skip a day of training, no matter what happens. Their partners must accept that they put a lot of their energy and time into their jobs."

"Ah," you simply nod, slightly surprised by the revelation. You would have assumed that they have a very lively dating life, but it seems like they just live for work. Sounds a bit lonely.

"I also think that some fans are a bit obsessed with their private lives. There was an incident before with Atsumu-san and one of their fans- but things have calmed down lately, so you should be fine." Yachi reassures you, reaching for a cookie on the couch table.

"I think that—" she is interrupted by the sudden sound of a ringing phone, and both of you exchange confused glances before realizing it's your phone. Yachi's eyes light up, and she squeals, "Maybe it's him—I mean, I could have gotten his number through Hinata, but maybe he's got some news—"

You fumble with the phone, the unknown number undoubtedly belonging to Atsumu. Taking a deep breath, you nod at her and hold the phone to your ear, answering the call with a simple,

"Hello?"

#haikyuu fanfiction #haikyuu x reader #atsumu #atsumu x reader #atsumu fluff #here you go!!#finally a friend of y/n! <3 #she has some more and you'll meet them soon too!#and you'll find out more about y/n in the next chapter #but don't worry I'll keep it as vague as possible!#ANYWAYS! I'll try to post another chapter this week #but it might take until monday T.T #I'll do my best though!#I'm eager to post the next few parts #and to finally come to the smut #it will take a bit though T.T #and let's not forget about the incoming drama~#ugh I have to get up soon for work T.T #I'm not ready T.T #it's gonna be a long weekend full of work #I hope everyone can relax a bit more #LOVE YA! <3 #BTW #I had such a hard time finding out how Yachi calls Hinata and all the other guys #She started by calling Hinata Hinata-kun but in the end she calls him Hinata #same with Kageyama #I'll just assume that she calls the others with -san #except for...#you might have already noticed who she's on first name base with~ that will be important maybe so keep that in mind~ <3

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toutallyahoe · 2 years ago

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re4 remake is trying to get me to revive my account i see lmao

anyways, bitches here need content. it is i, im bitches. yall better give me or im fucking rioting

He should be asleep. It was too early in the morning for this shit, not to mention they literally fucked like wild animals last night. That should've satiated his partner. Should have. That's what [Name] had thought as he let out a tired sigh as a groan leave his lips at the pleasure spreading throughout his body.

[Name] removed the white blanket that was on his body, and he wasn't honestly surprised to find his cock was nicely wrapped around Luis' warm and wet mouth. [Name] may have not been able to look at the alarm clock that was settled on their bedside table but he knows it was early in the morning, and the sun was barely up! But what can he do when his partner was just an eager whore?

"Morning to you too," he tiredly greeted as [Name] sat up and then gently ran his hand through Luis' messy hair, looking at his partner eagerly sucking him off. Luis looked so pretty as always but at that moment, the man looked like a desperate whore greedily taking his cock. "Isn't it too early for this?"

Hearing his voice, Luis moaned around his cock as the man began to slurp messily, making [Name] moan from his actions. Luis gave a few more messy slurps as he then finally pulled off from [Name]'s dick, not before giving the tip a wet kiss as he did. Luis then gave a large, innocent grin towards his lover as his hands settles on [Name]'s thighs.

"Finally awake, guapo?" Luis giggled as he wiped the drool slipping from his lips. "You kept me waiting," he said as [Name] barely bit down a groan when Luis took his dick in his hand and began to slowly stroke up and down as Luis would often playfully squeeze to get a moan out of him. "So I had to proceed by myself." Luis leaned down to take [Name]'s cock back into his mouth again.

[Name] swore under his breath at the audacity of his partner. In the end, he decided to take control and punish him a little. Luis can't get away with being a cheeky little whore, not this time. [Name] thrust his hips up into Luis' mouth, keeping a firm grip on his partner's hair to stop Luis from moving as [Name] slowly but surely fucks his cock down Luis' throat.

Luis let out muffled moans as he began to hump against [Name]'s leg with desperation, rubbing swelling dick against [Name]'s leg as he whined and drooled over his lover's cock. It really seems like last night's sex truly wasn't enough for Luis.

#top male reader #tou thirst #resident evil x male reader #luis sera x male reader #i loved him in the og and i was thirsting when i saw his remake design a few months ago #now my bitch boi is here and i demand some crumbs of content #please #me and cn are fucking starving #also not me cackling at seeing yall re simps coming here because i saw my resident evil posts getting attention once again #especially the leon kink list and the belly bulge with ethan chris and karl akdbakdakdbakdjskd #luis sera is out here making me write again #goddamn its been so long #sorry for fucking off once again yall #i legit really havent been in a writing mood #busy and shite #but im back and still a simp

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locusfandomtime · 10 months ago

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okay so with all the hermitcraft muppet stuff… i’m thinking… hermitcraft The Muppets (2011) au… it works beautifully hear me out…

y/n is an autistic person who is OBSESSED with hermitcraft. however by this point, hermitcraft has been disbanded for years. they visit the season 9 world - now under the ownership of some corporation - and accidentally overhear evil xisuma’s plans to purchase the original hermitcraft worlds and destroy them, and the hermits would be unable to stop him, unless they buy the world first for an even higher amount of money than ex is offering. y/n refuses to let this happen and tracks down xisuma, explaining the situation. xisuma doesn’t want to have all the things he worked on with his friends destroyed, so decides, in order to raise the money needed to stop ex, all the hermits must reunite and hold a twitch subathon.

starting with joe hills, y/n and xisuma track down the hermits and ask them to join, via montage. they’ve all moved on and have new jobs. hypno is doing some modded stuff, tango is an overworked game dev, doc is a tomato farmer, gem is a serial killer, mumbo is biking around europe, grian is procrastinating, cleo is a fashion director, zedaph is a gameshow host, etc etc. they all agree to help, with varying degrees of hesitance or eagerness

finally, they track down etho. he is now working for a big name company designing redstone machines full time. despite their best efforts, etho refuses to help, satisfied with his current job and lacking any motivation for hermitcraft projects. everyone is discouraged with etho not joining the project, especially bdubs. however gem calls etho washed up and then etho suddenly decides to join them to prove his worthiness

they have a day to try and build as many minigames and cool builds as possible. several “celebrity guests” show up for the event, including scott and martyn, and wilbur soot, because he’s enamoured with grian. the stream starts, and they try to do competitions and play games, however, the helsmits are there and are trying to sabotage the event. y/n has been questioning this entire time what type of player they are - redstoner, builder, etc - failing to succeed in any of those categories, however, after a heartful talk with joe hills, accepts that there are talents not recognised by the minecraft community at large but are still admirable, and they do a dramatic poetry reading together.

in the end, evil xisuma, refusing to accept defeat, cuts out the power to stop the stream 23 hours and 59 minutes in - a minute short of the time goal. the hermits are at first devastated but then remember that as with any stream like this, they already reached the monetary goal 5 minutes in. in fact, they reached double the goal the moment grian talked, and five times the goal the second etho was in frame. zedaph puts on his wormman costume and talks to ex, who reveals he has only been so focused on destroying hermitcraft because it made him sad to see the hermits celebrated but his favourite hermit of all - wormman - ignored. wormman explains that its okay, because of his nature of being a superhero, he needs to stay out of the limelight to best protect his identity, but he appreciates ex’s dedication to him. the other helsmits run away, plotting their revenge. a new season of hermitcraft is announced, and y/n is unanimously voted to be part of it. gem kills someone. scar proposes to grian. the crowd goes wild. everyone claps. the shot zooms out, revealing the entire thing to have been playing on a computer monitor. cut to zloyxp, pixlriffs, and lyarrah sitting in front of it, furiously taking notes for the first recap in many years

#i have rewatched that movie. so many times.#the y/n autistic main character thing isn’t a joke btw thats like hliterally the plot of the movie. and fucking sheldon bazinga plays him #y/n isn’t necessarily even the reader. skizz could be y/n with a few edits and more connection to impulse tbh #i did edit things around to make it more logically consistent in this au but basically everything written here legit happens in the movie #long post #locus fandom time #hermitcraft #joe hills #i think he is pretty relevant here. given this entire thing is inspired by him #hermitblr #the muppets

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sanaserena · 1 year ago

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Doflamingo was still young at twenty-four. But he was a man who looked like he would keep in good shape for years to come.

He took the glass from your hand and examined the small quantity that remained at the bottom. You looked up apologetically. From your position, so far below him, the angles of his face looked sharp and dangerous. His shades gleamed, catching the light through the billowing gauzy curtains by the window. You swallowed, watching as he tilted the glass, catching the remnants of the wine in his mouth. He licked his lips. It was just a little mesmerising.

Then he was putting it down and leaning into you. “Take off your clothes,” he said.

You stilled. Take off your clothes? You thought about the few layers that you were wearing. With the warmth of the weather, you weren’t wearing much at all. A dress. Thigh holsters. Underwear. Bra. Not much at all.

You’d already felt naked when he told you to hand your pistols to one of his men, the one with the metal studs and light blue spiky hair. Doflamingo had promised, with that teasing smile on his lips, that you would get them back eventually.

“But…” you faltered, staring only at his chest.

His hand touched your cheek, cupping it, and more gently than you expected, lifted your face to look at him. “You said anything, didn’t you?” he drawled, a hint of warning in his tone. You had, and you were realising now, it was your fault for not specifying what that meant. But you couldn’t back down now. This was where you had to be. So anything it was. He must have sensed your acceptance. Because he grinned and repeated slowly but firmly. “Take off your clothes.”

~♥~♦~♠~♣~♥~♦~♠~♣~♥~♦~♠~♣~♥~♦~♠~♣~♥~♦~♠~♣~♥~♦~♠~♣~♥~♦~♠~♣~

"The beginning scene" from my ongoing canon (intended) compliant fic, Doffy's Whore, over on AO3 (Doflamingo X reader and Rosinante X reader pairing; Aokiji X reader endgame - the relationships are a little complicated, see AO3 notes.)

#one piece #one piece fanfiction #ao3 #ao3 fanfic #donquixote doflamingo #donquixote doflamingo x reader #corazon x reader #aokiji x reader #aokiji x reader endgame #long fic #smut fic #mind the fic warnings #probably last tumblr post for a few days because opla

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nocentis · 5 months ago

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Black Arum ┆ Siegrain

Content warning: main character death, cannibalism, gore, toxic/unreliable narrator, highly canon divergent character portrayal. Read at your own risk. You will probably take psychic damage from this.

╳┆A lure was stuck in the soot between his lungs. Many times he'd felt the tug — enough that the wire fray had worn a rut where his ribs met — and many times he'd found her on the other end, reeling for remnants of him that no longer existed. She would aim to break him open, sift around in the cinders for those specks of him she wanted to confiscate, keep for herself, so that she could finally be rid of him. Once those flecks were washed and panned, the remains would reek like plough mud closure. For that reason he would come to her whole, every whit of ash accounted for.

A cherry little game they'd play. Her with flint and steel, eager to reignite that paltry spark of "good" that flickered freely for a lapse before he remembered himself. Him with tinder and kindling, letting it light only to call on the rain again. Her with just enough hope. Him with just enough time.

That resolve was so very compelling. More than her beauty, her candor, and even that glow he so loved to bask in — that luster he wanted to hold between his teeth and bury under his nails — more than that, her tenacity was a toothsome temptation, and he wasn't keen to deny himself anything.

So when he felt the pull, he caved to the beck and spooled the lisle. That day, the line seemed lighter, thinner, than it ever had. It should've been strong. Tensile. Instead it felt gossamer fine and just as frail, poised to tear at an ill touch, and he wasn’t exactly renowned for his gentle hands. Still, he gathered it with both palms and wrapped it proudly around himself like a ceremonial sash, grin scrawled across his face something devilish.

╳┆He found her lying in the shade beneath a long-lived magnolia, still and silent as she never was, with the color of her namesake spread around her head in halo streaks. Battle-torn, as she so often was, and yet uncannily... passive.

Anything he'd planned to say went out the airlock. Instead, he stood there with an anchor in his stomach, reaping the benefit of doubt.

Not a frown nor a sigh when he darkened her sanctum, only heavenward eyes tearless and unblinking and a resigned breath just short of peaceful. That worn tether waned phantom thin, light as helium, and the tension in his chest went slack.

There was no definite snap. No dramatic severing or ear-popping moment of clarity. Only the vague sense of loss so fresh a wound that denial was a numbing salve.

“Get up,” his voice a command, sandgrit against whetstone, thickened by an unnamed antigen.

The silence felt like mockery. A placid scene void of chittering fauna, clouds' drum, or even the most timid breeze. It wanted him to hear the absence of her breath and the stillness of her chest. It wanted him to hear the hollow. The empty. The nothing. Wanted it to resonate; to find the furthest reaches of his mind and clean them out until all that was left was this icy, clarifying silence.

He knew the end when he saw it. This was something much worse. It was robbery.

Her life wasn’t for the world to take. It was for him to hold in his hands.

Something wet and pathetic slicked his tongue — some whiny, pleading thing — and it was stubborn as oil. The authority slid to the back of his throat and left him choking, “You are the indomitable Titania. You’ve laced fingers with Death time and again only to rise and slay and conquer, so get up.”

Her warmth was set to a slow drip, spilling from her in tired beads and seeping soundlessly into her chosen ground. Little whispers of her lost to greedy loam, sullied, never to be returned.

A waste of precious love. The sod won’t drink of her as he will. It will take of her and give back what? New “life” so fragile and fleeting? A feeble weed will take root, bloom its days few, and curl itself inside out? Pathetic. An insult to her legacy. An insult to the diamond-split sharp of her bladesoul.

His heart boiled over — popping, sticking, simmering sicksweet saccharine. It colored him cloying, flooded his mouth, and forced him to kneel at her altar.

"Please," he keened, hollow and morose, and his own pleading sickened him, “Say something.”

The sun trickled through the leaves like ichor, lighting up her black-blown eyes and the thin ring of honey surrounding them. Dim, distant, and dead as the moon.

His hand carved a path to her face, fingers featherlight against her fading flush. He brushed her bangs from her eyes and forced an unbroken breath through his quavering mouth. He traced each scar too faint to see and the parts of her skin their star kissed. Memorized the map of her face — each curve and crease, each fine hair, and every eyelash. He would carve out a space in his mind in her shape and fill it with the thousand sweet nothings he kept in his pockets.

He gathered her hand and threaded it with his own. When he opened his mouth, a rickety twine escaped from the deepest point of his chest, so he forced his jaws shut to keep the grief corked. He uncurled her fingers and pressed his cheek into her palm, trapping her there against his own scarred skin. His eyes fell shut as he breathed in this borrowed touch — this moment fated, stolen from him by this world's insatiable avarice.

He kissed her palm directly in the center; held it against his mouth and felt his own ruined breath echo back to him from the deepest grooves of her skin. Again, he begged, “Please, Erza.”

Of the armors innumerable now haunting this hallowed ground, this one least befit her.

He revered Death. If there was a god, surely it was Death, he thought, for Death asks for nothing but life. The dead don’t know that they’re dead. They know a split second of euphoria and then a sharp, definite end. Isn’t that the work of a gracious god? One last stroke of color whether in peace or peril, and then eternal rest. Back to the dust you sprouted from.

But now he couldn’t see any of that beauty he often waxed poetic about. All he could see was change yet to come. All he could see was her, and he wanted her back.

He wanted her back, yet he knew better than anyone that there was no such thing as resurrection. While Death might be gracious, it was not generous, and it was not to be reasoned with.

The thought of her buried deep, bathed by the dark and abandoned to rot — it washed his mouth acid sour. It ate straight through his tongue and lingered in the roots of his teeth, burning, raging redhot in his jaws’ marrow. A grave didn't suit her anymore than a pyre.

Soon she would be cold. Stiff. A feast for flies and their insatiable young. In the days to come, she would bubble and bloat and sallow. Her skin would loosen and slough off. The sun would bleach her bones. The meat of her would melt into oil and fat and bogspit. She would mix in with the soil, the groundwater, and this thankless magnolia would thrive.

It was tall, thick, with branches spread in all directions. The lowest of its limbs showed off the varied deep greens of its large waxy leaves, their undersides a chalky brown. A few white flowers bloomed, palm-shaped petals open in praise like they'd come to witness and worship. There was no question why she'd chosen to crawl here. It must've reminded her of home.

Despite its beauty, it was hardly worthy of her. Nothing in this ravenous world was. Her grave should be carved within his chest. There, he could keep her warm. He could host her in his veins. One day, they would wade the waters of woe together. Until then she could live under his skin.

He wouldn’t allow her to spoil. Wouldn’t place her gently into time’s whittlesome hands only to lose her peel by peel by rotting peel.

This world has taken much from you. Do not allow it to take her too.

A carnal ache etched itself into bone, a depth of passion he hadn't felt since he wrought for a false Heaven.

She is a fruit, ripe as a plum and twice the taste. Peel her open. There is a seed at her core. Plant it in your soot-field chest and watch her bloom anew.

What are these hands for if not this?

Flesh like sheets of silk. Muscle like rope. Blood like honey. Bone like an ivory trove. The splitting, the squelching, the straining, ripping, snapping; it burrowed marrow-deep and lingered there. Her chest peeled apart like jagged teeth, jaws croaking their rusted tune, and inside that redslick maw was the center of the universe.

The heart upon its throne, still as she, shielded by her precious lungs. It slid into his palm like it was always meant to be there. Raw, rich, and so very scarlet. Its sinews strained against his pull — those hollow vines that fed even the furthest parts of her — so he wrenched them free and draped himself in them like matchless finery.

Eat. Eat ‘til you’re sick. There’s a hole the size of her in the pit of your stomach. Eat until you fill it.

What are these teeth for if not this?

Tough as leather; smooth as rubber. His teeth slid right off the rind and clicked together with nothing but metallic sheen between them. He gnashed at that ink-dripping muscle until he found a spot weak enough to tear apart. It tasted of rare meat and iron; a heady gore thick enough to drown in. He swallowed, gasped, and that first new breath felt like a blade.

The child inside him saw her split-open ribs as his cradle. He wanted to crawl inside, curl up, and die. He wanted to paint himself her color.

He lost his vision to the hot, angry wash. His own sobs were a distant sound, muffled by meat and blood and his own desperate fingers. He was numb in the mouth and in the shake of his hands, but he forced himself to eat, eat despite the choking, the gagging, the wet, weeping remorse.

Don’t you dare throw her up. Be grateful. Swallow and say thank you and finish what you’ve started.

He bit into his own palm, indistinguishable from her core, and he cried out in sour relief. His hands spread raw grief over his face, through his hair, and down his neck.

You’re no better than this starving world.

He curled into himself, hands clutching his own aching chest, and despite the cloudless sky, he called upon the rain.

#v: ✗ ┆ siegrain ┆ ◜ canon divergent ◞#⚶ ┆ ◜ drabbles ◞#I was in a silly goofy mood #reader beware #this one was an exorcism.#needed to purge this depravity.#hey guys what if I bare my soul and it's a festering wound.#did I provide context? no. am I sorry? also no.#this only works in darkverse.#this is very obviously not inline with canon Jellal's personality but with a mutated version of him I created to balance ->#the healing arc I'm putting him through in mainverse.#not love but a secret other thing (obsession. possession.)(...take my money... I don't need that shit...)#& now she haunts the narrative. in my mind. and his too.#In my defense I've never claimed not to be a degenerate #yeah actually I am kind of embarrassed about this thank you for asking #never thought I’d have to say this but I do not endorse or condone cannibalism.#hey Sieg have you ever thought about chilling. calming down perhaps. I say as if I did not put him in this situation.#I fear this is one of those things I’m going to look back on in a few months & say: that should've stayed in the drafts.#me personally I love posting cringe. it's what I deserve.#if god exists I will have to answer for this. catch me in the river Acheron sipping on straight up anguish.#can you tell I have been confronted by the fleeting nature of mortality more often than usual lately. be honest.#actually I decided to not to go too into depth with the gore this time. I feel like keeping it vague lends more to the fugue state #also because it was giving me REALLY weird dreams. so like. yeah. I could've made this worse. but should I have?#tags bout damn long as the drabble. sorry gang.#cannibalism tw #gore tw #main character death tw #body horror tw #dayne’s depravity #daynedepravity

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lgbtlunaverse · 1 year ago

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Half the mutuals on my dash talking about writing and being scared it's trash all of a sudden huh curious ANYWAY have you guys ever worked on something for so long trying to edit it you actively start wondering if your original thing was fine actually but in your sequential attempts to fix it you've now made it bad. If you have how to get rid of that feeling please and thank you.

#me with the fic i just posted that shit took so long #and the last few weeks i was actively like... am i making this worse?#am i solving problems only i see because I stare at this fucking google doc all day?#and are my fixes soulless bullshit that any reader with fresh eyes would despise?#writing #fic writing

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eek-a-tron · 2 months ago

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Catwoman, the godly-powers-of-Bast, and the arranged marriage plot, continued!

(From PART ONE here)

We finally get an explanation for all the yikes-it's-exoticism guys wandering around Gotham in "Out of this World," a.k.a. Catwoman Vol 3 #31 by Ed Brubaker and Paul Gulacy. It starts off with Catwoman being kidnapped from a near-death fighting experience only to find herself healed up in a FANTASY PALACE, of course!

Rules for fantasy palaces everywhere: (1) gold, (2) columns.

But never mind that! Cue the hot guy!

oh no he's hot and he's stuck in this yikes story forever

More under the cut, obviously!

ARRANGED MARRIAGE TROPE FANS, ENJOY

Q: Why do magic-y guys all hold their hands like this? A: Hand flexibility … for spells, obviously, ahem, oBviousLY

Hot Guy™ turns out to be Omari, the chosen one of Maahes (the Egyptian god of war, although this goes unexplained) — wikipedia sidenote: "Maahes was a deity associated with war, protection, and weather, as well as that of knives," so hey, that tracks — while Selina is the chosen one of Beti (a.k.a. Bast, I guess). This means that, an entire year ago, in that temple, seemingly by accident, Selina was "blessed" with power-enhancing abilities by Bast, which now beef up her stats-roster of expert thief-powers and martial artistry. (That's right: this issue states that Selina was given super-ish powers, sort of. She could probably intern with the Justice League, if she wouldn't roll her eyes at the idea.)

Luckily Omari turns out to be fine on the inside, too, because he's not actually into an arranged marriage without enthusiastic interest! And of course there's a power-hungry brother behind the scenes, so Omari's not really at fault! Hmm!

These are official wedding clothes? Sure Jan etc.

For all you sports-stats comics people who think Catwoman is "weak," I would like to point out that Catwoman, in this extremely silly canon story, is shown beating up a crowd of armed men whilst wearing a beaded swimsuit. Oh, 2004.

Exploitation doesn’t negate fighting skills, I guess.

OMG AND OMARI GIVES UP HIS FANTASY THRONE FOR HER SORT OF (note that his brother seems pretty mean and Omari's more of a figurehead, so it's not thaaaaaaat much of a loss)

But it likely seems shocking to someone whose long-term (Bat)man often refuses to give up or compromise on his job. I love Batcat and all, but I'm just saying. Like, I'm just saying. Just saying.

But you didn’t tell me anything *Tuxedo Mask memes away*

It doesn’t matter anyway because Selina wakes up a month later (fully-clothed thankyouverymuch) on a train heading for Gotham Central, whilst Omari is shown floating away on a cruise ship of some kind. Alas, theirs was not a story to be told beyond one very wtf issue, and he's literally never appeared again! Booooo(?)!

Farewell, Wealthy Hot Guy with a Butler-Like Companion™!

Despite this bizarre story dropping off the face of the comics earth, Bast concepts still loom in Catwoman comics. They've done the "Catwoman has nine actual lives" thing thanks to Bast as recently as the 2020s, but I don't know if they've kept her "stronger and faster" blessing-powers too. Anyone who can fill me in on the "Selina is vaguely Bast-magical" stuff would be much appreciated, but given the length of this post I doubt I'll ever know! MYSTERY!

Its many glaring issues aside, this was def a departure from the usual dark-and-gloomy Gotham stuff. And I think of it, sometimes, re: fluff or OOC content in comics-based narratives. Like, this was a canon print run. Written by a well-known author. So go ahead and trope however you want, people: everyone does! But maybe steer clear of early-2000s exoticism, though. :s

#catwoman and the bast stuff #catwoman #selina kyle #omari #the tropes are thick with this actual canon comic #arranged marriage #p.s. the halle berry catwoman movie also contained some bast stuff soooo #2004 was a time for godly catstuff apparently #this extremely long post goes out to the few of you god seeks thief readers who maybe wondered wtf was up with the marriage mischief stuff #weirdly canonical crackfluff? in *my* nonsense? yuh #godcatstorming #long post

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ravencromwell · 11 months ago

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Ros Vortalis trans headcanons

There are some remarkable trans Holland fics and headcanons, but can we talk about Ros Vortalis, whom all of his friends simply call Vor? Who, even when he’s _dying Holland calls Vor, to be expected, but also Vortalis which’s so much longer than Ros.

A bit of googling informs me Ros is “protector” in German, which’s chef’s kiss one hundred/ten no notes V.E. But it’s also, more frequently, a diminutive of Rosalind. Disclaimer before I start these that I respect and love! the headcanons of Makt as fairly gender nonrestrictive, with power being more of a defining factor of treatment. My Makt, however, is more complicated, with gender and gender transitions being imperfect but still a site where joy can be created, much like the rest of White London existence. Putting the rest of these beneath a cut with that in mind because as a trans person, I know some days I can’t handle transness as careful complication to be navigated and don’t want to inflict it on anyone unprepared. (Though, I promise! there’re fluffy as fuck nsfw Vor/Holland and Vor/friends headcanons in here to cut the angst.)

Ros retains a shortened form of his given namefor business purposes within the Shal—we know Shal means “market” in Red London, and I tend to think it means the same in White, such that when Holland calls him a “thug from the Shal” he’s referring to Vor being in the merchant/smuggling business. When he transitions, he’s relatively young and honestly to flagrantly demand a name change would be seen by too many as blood in the water. His greatest focus, always, is Makt rather than his personal happiness and he’d rather be burdened with the “nickname” Ros and be capable of rising in the Shal in service of becoming king.

There’re two ways of transitioning: the easiest and least painful is utilizing a spell similar to Astrid’s with Lila and stealing a face and voice. But that spell fades with death and though Vor understands that his body is likely destined for desecration once he’s gone as Makt’s people drain its blood and magic, there’s still this stubborn demand that they destroy a body without the face that made him shudder every time his child self caught a glimpse (he is so grateful for a lack of mirrors in Makt for much of his young adulthood.)

So he chooses the harder, excruciating method: finds a bone magician to permanently reshape his body. Session after session, over months traveling abroad on a ship with only the open sea and crew to hear him scream himself hoarse.

The first time they share a bed, Holland strokes along the broadened shoulders, runs fingers along the scars on his chest—eyes fixed on Vor’s all the while— and murmurs: “If they did not believe you would hold the throne, they were fools.”

“I’m flattered.” He’s bright-eyed, with that deep, rolling-sea laugh.

“After this, very little would stop you.” Fools have marveled at the extent of spells across his body, and inwardly he howls in hysterical laughter because there is very little to dull pain in Makt, and the shipboard pain was so vast it made everything else feel like pinpricks by comparison. He’s never bedded someone who would know that as intimately as the man who had done his damndest to use that same magic in stopping Vor’s fist before it connected with his face, and the admiration uncoils something deep in his chest. “Sometimes I’m certain I can’t keep it. One moment it will be there and then not.” He manages a farse of a smile “Foolish, after all these decades, but such is the weakness of your future king, Holland.”

“Lucky you would have an Antari to put it back, then.”

By the time he returned to London, voice rumbling deep from an expanded chest, people understood quickly to use “Ros” with the proper pronouns or see just how effective the runes on his hands were. But well…Ros is an easier shirt than Rosalind to slip into, but it will never sit comfortably. As he develops allies, he finds that Vor and Vortalis fit easier. And it becomes a good gauge for trust. Those who understand implicitly how painful his given name is and respect that, are people worth keeping. It becomes easier, as fewer and fewer people survive who remember Rosalind.

There are far too many moments to count when former friends or lovers try to use “Ros” as a weapon, with a little smirk that says: “You never said we _couldn’t call you that.” And he’s deeply glad he made a relatively small name fuss and provided only a small chink in his armor. (Those sorts of people tend, inevitably, to cause the use of his knives. As though letting them close and showing kindness is an invitation for open season. But such are the risks in Makt, and he is a man who craves touch and closeness. What good to craft the ideal body only to never have it appreciated. The way Holland simply…withdrew from people after Talya is something almost unfathomable. Whether they’re the closest of friends or both king and night and! king and beloved—which’s pretty much always in my head—there’s a deep, profound ache that he could never touch Holland enough to make up for too many years alone.

It’s the dimmest flicker every time he sees the “knight” and “Antari” masks slip, when Holland leans against his shoulder or puts his head in Vor’s lap, eyes half-closing at fingers in his hair. But, simply because the task is nigh on impossible, doesn’t mean he won’t do his best. Vor touches Holland Vosijk a hundred thousand times in those two years of rule—and so, so many more if they both survive—and is so very, very grateful he could take the touches the best of his lovers and allies offered over the last thirty years. (On a slashy front, can we also just talk about how, as a couple, there’s an incomparable way arousal and awe intertwine for Vor _every time Holland reaches out and shows affection: a kiss against his temple as Vor lets their foreheads rest together; a hand moving slow and easy down his back. To be trusted enough for the most guarded man he’s ever met—it took Vor _months to convince him to kill Gorst and he’s never had to work so hard or wanted so desperately for someone to say yes in his life—to touch him is such a valuable thing that he has immense responsibility not to break.)

Also in couple’s verse: If Vor has a small regret, it’s that the bone magicians are far more skilled with outward, above-the-waist presentation—because the best of them have not only done this for trans people, but for criminals etc. seeking a disguise. Thankfully, they had no trouble cutting him open to ensure he would never be with child—he doesn’t have the vocabulary for dysphoria, but the idea of his stomach rounded and heavy is one of the few things that can make him viciously soul-deep terrified. But the below the waist equipment well, it’s not a magic Makt has the luxury of learning.

By the time he meets Holland, it’s the very faintest of regrets: he has a collection of strap-ons for when he and a lover want to indulge in that particular fantasy—and is comfortable enough in his skin it’s an indulgence and not a requirement. It’s beautiful to watch lovers slide to their knees and take them in their hands or mouths or slide inside and watch them arch with pleasure. But oh, oh he wishes he could _feel it. It’s not a complaint worth voicing, and honestly after he becomes king, there’s very little time to indulge.

But one day, Holland comes back, smelling of flowers holding a box, tells the guards to wait at the end of the hall because he has crucial business from “the other London” for the king’s ears alone, which has Vor intrigued and concerned because he hasn’t come close to asking Holand to send a message. But before the concern can swell to anything beyond a flicker, he sees a flush so faint anyone would miss it who wasn’t watching. (Even before the Danes, Holland held his feelings and desires in an iron grip; Vor learned early in sharing a bed that Holland loathed the idea of being heard by those not his lovers when losing control: not merely a discomfort that could add spice to an evening, but viscerally, the way it would take everything Vor had to turn his back on an armed opponent.) This is pleasure, not business and he flicks his fingers in a silent command before they can even turn to look.

"Go get yourselves some dinner,“ he says for good measure, "If there is a foe Holland cannot protect me from, there’s little more bodies can do.”

When he opens the box…there are the usual straps but the cock. The cock feels like _skin. “The Arnesians-” and oh, there’s still so much contempt in those words “With their infinite supply of magic have learned to transmute. From earth to bone, and then something softer. There is an illusion for the Arnesians who want to forget the straps.” There were layers upon layers beneath that statement: neither of them wished, at least then, to go begging for scraps, but to _take a little of the bounty Arnes had hoarded,

“_Yes!”

Neither of them know how the illusion works: it is as mysterious as the fireworks Holland has seen that fool his eyes into certainty dragons fly across the unbearably vivid Arnesian sky. It does not matter; in those moments when Holland’s mouth is hot on skin, Vor is utterly, entirely certain Holland is swallowing down the cock he has always had.

It’s almost too much, leaves him speechless for the first time in decades, has Holland scrambling up and onto the bed even as his eyes are still glassy from watching the king come undone to wrap himself around Vor’s back until the world comes into focus again. “Is it only good once or-” he asks, finally and Holland’s smirk is wicked.

When he’s upending the Ost table and coughing up blood—, so much, too much kajt I hope Holland can take the throne because whoever these bastards are they can’t rule, the thing he clings to: more than “Stay with me"—though he _tries—, more than the raw panic in Holland _swearing—is the name. _Vortalis, he says when the table overturns—though it would be such a forgivable mistake to use Ros. Vor, he says while chanting stay and one of his blood spells. He will die as who he made himself, not as he was born.

The three threads of coherence for Holland are the blood spell. That Vor _has to stay. And that if he cannot be enough to stop this, he _will not let Vor die hearing him use the wrong name.

In verses where Vor lives, they both know the "thank you” when he wakes is not for the healing, though to be alive is a joy.

#Holland Vosijk #Ros Vortalis #Ros Vortalis/Holland Vosijk #[to anyone who saw this before I could add the read more fuck I'm sorry I haven't posted on here for too long and how you do everything wit #screen readers is different now]#queer stuff #my meta #shades of magic #please anyone who would like to incorporate any of these into anything Shades related do so gleefully #seeing any of these floating around in fic would make my fucking year #from the moment! all Vor's friends called him by his surname I wanted to write him as trans #so this is my gleefully self-indulgent Christmas present to myself #I'm taking the anxiety out of fic with an essay/meta and fic hybrid I first saw the brilliant #badassbutterfly1987 #use on a different topic a few days ago *bows to this ship's captain who's supplied a shockingly wonderful amount of content solo #and is watering my crops with current drabble collection*#it lets me not worry about producing a perfect product while indulging my love of dialogue and is kinda glorious #(for the record. askbox/messenger's always open to talk anything in this fandom #especially White London and/or these two whose dynamic has sent me into the hardest hyperfixation since I don't even know when

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