#maybe at times one or the other could comment on how the cover-up the Masters are going for is holding up
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Still thinking about Bag a Legend but I'm too tired for Real Thoughts so instead I'm just thinking "if no one got me Jenny and April got me" on repeat. April, the only other person who was there when the Vake fell, and Jenny, the only mentor and confidant the Ambition gives you who doesn't turn traitor or try to... definitely a special place in my heart for both of them. I know they're both usually pretty busy with the faked death and/or deep cover thing respectively, but I'd like to think a BaL PC would be able to grab the both of them for drinks in some hidden back room once in a blue moon and just sit with the shared unspoken knowledge that yeah, that happened, and we're the only ones who know the way it did.
#Bag a Legend#Hallowrove would enjoy this I think#just showing up and chatting about mundane things and parting ways an hour later#not even any talk about what happened; just the knowledge that it did and they all not only survived it but won#maybe at times one or the other could comment on how the cover-up the Masters are going for is holding up#or how many people seem to believe Hallowrove's version of events#Jenny could warn her of any threats she'd noticed maybe since she's well connected#anyone angered enough by Veils' death to make a move#idk. I think a lot about how BaL isolates the player#repeatedly hammering home how allies are not to be trusted and even the few you can will be a danger (the nuns)#and telling any outside friends is risking either your plan or their lives#Hallowrove isn't really easy to isolate; he's got many acquaintances and likes to be social#but especially back then with the idea of closer or more lasting relationships being very new it definitely worked#they went through the hardest parts of BaL mostly alone#so I really like the idea of the player getting a couple connections that outlast that#a couple allies that they *could* trust#not best friends by any means but proof that even unconnected people with very different goals can cooperate#and be stronger together than alone#yea. thinking about them
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Tim who’s a femme boy but not in a ‘skater skirt and thigh high socks’ kind of way.
No, he was raised by two people who value tradition and fashion, teaching him the ways of old money.
He watched his mother, who worked with woman who married into families and worse low cut dresses and diamond necklaces, hold the same power over men with only her wrist and head bare. He learnt that modesty was as equally powerful as nudity, that a woman could be devastating in any fabric if she out in the work.
Tim has always known he isn’t a woman, is comfortable being a man, but by all that’s natural does he not look at the way they dress and feel longing.
He’s twelve when he tries one of his mother’s dresses on for the first time.
It’s far too long, puddling at his feet, but he feels so beautiful in the mossy green fabric. The elbow length sleeves go to his wrist, but it still feels almost scandalous in a way that isn’t about the dress being on a boy.
He puts the dress away and begins to buy his own.
Naturally, he doesn’t risk his parents ire and keeps them hidden, but with them being gone so long it’s easy for him to spend some time by himself to dress up all he likes.
By the time he’s fourteen and has been around in for a while, he’s managed to go through a few different styles and find what truely feels like him.
He still wears his stupid science shirts and baggy hoodies over his formal dress shirts, it’s just that now he might add a simple long skirt instead of his dirty jeans. He won’t skate in a skirt, only because he doesn’t want to damage them and jeans are safer, but he also doesn’t leave the house in them for a while.
It’s not long after he’s recovered from Jason’s attack, his former idol still having trouble coming to terms with the lies he was told by the LOA, that he decides to see what Bruce thinks.
Ironically, it’s Jason that gave him the confidence.
Jason had made a comment when he was going on his rant to Tim about how Robin shouldn’t exist and he should get out, that he was warning the boy he should cut and run from Bruce. All he had said was that he was cutting his life short by being Robin and Tim felt that comment hit him harder than the bullet to his leg.
His time was short, most likely he would die before he got to marry or maybe even graduate (though he was considering dropping out anyway), so why hide?
Tim had been just about to get changed before he left to go see Bruce for a checkup on his mostly healed injuries when he caught his reflection and stopped.
The white shirt he wore was long sleeved and covered his neck, the buttons going up the front made of wood and shaped like hearts. His skirt, a dark brown flannel pattern prove that went just above his ankles, had a corset like fitting at the top that hugged his waist carefully. While he would prefer a more womanly figure, he wasn’t going to implement old Victorian body horror to get that.
Tim did go back to his room, but only to put on some simple heeled shoes of brown leather with a gold buckle on the side.
He put on a big shall over his shoulders, picking up his phone and putting on his headphones before he made the walk to Wayne Manor.
As usual, he didn’t need to knock as Alfred opened the door.
The man didn’t give any inkling as to surprise or shock at Tim’s outfit and simple said, “Glad to see you putting some effort into your appearance, Master Timothy.”
The snide comment made Tim relax greatly, quipping back about him being able to wear more than just jeans and t-shirts to the older man. The two talked normally and that made everything feel so much better than some grand speech on Tim accepted who he is.
Dick and Bruce are talking to each other in polite voices, both still a little awkward with each other even if they have gotten better, and both turn to great Tim as he enters the dining room for dinner.
Bruce looks shocked, showing he isn’t feeling too much like Batman at the moment, but he covers it up and says nothing and lets Dick speak.
Tim immediately feels stupid as Dick walks up to him with a big smile and opens arms, because Dick Grayson was raised in a circus! If anyone was going to accept ‘oddities’ in the family it would be him, “Timmy! Oh my little baby, you look so good! What’s the occasion? Oh! Do you have a date?”
His brothers teasing mg tone at the end makes him smile and shove him gently. “Not a date or anything else, I just… thought I’d wear something more my style out for once.”
Dick beamed, hearing the unspoken confession of trust and picking his brother up and spinning him around, “Oh, Timmyyyy! My baby, you look so beautiful! You can wear whatever you want, all the time, anywhere! I’ll will straight up eat anyone who has a problem, I swear I will do it, just say the word-“
Bruce finally talks just to cut Dick off, “Dick, no ‘eating’ anyone who hurts your bother. A lawsuit will surfice.”
Tim can’t help but beam at Bruce, knowing full well that those words are his weird way of showing his approval and acceptance. Him being more forward with it would have been nicer, but he was the most fluent in the language of Bruce Wayne outside of Alfred and so he was okay with it.
Dick went to whine, acting like a spoilt child while he secretly raged inside that he was being told not to commit a violent act. Honestly, Tim wasn’t sure if it was because it was in defence of his brother or because Dick was always secretly searching for something to get aggressive with.
Tim smiled happily, taking off his shawl and thanking Alfred when he swooped in to take it away for him.
As Tim sat at the table, he felt a peace build in his heart that he hadn’t felt… well, ever.
#batfam#tim drake#bat family#dc comics#batfamily#dc universe#dc#tim drake is red robin#tim drake is a menace#femme tim drake#fem tim drake#jason todd#dick grayson#bruce wayne#nighwing#Batman#batman and robin#red robin#cross dressing
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Tennis || Tennis Player!Rafe Cameron x oc!reader
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Summary: the beginning of my tennis player x oc!reader au maybe??
Warnings: none
Word count: 836
A/n: as a tennis girly, this will be fun to write ;) face claim for this oc is Paige Lorenze just bc she is my absolute favourite and her vlogs bring me sm comfort 🥹
MASTERLIST
divider by @yoonitos
mood board
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It came as no surprise to anyone in the Outer Banks that Rafe Cameron had made it big in the tennis world. Even though everyone expected him to follow the usual kook path and play golf, Rafe decided to give tennis a shot, and it turned out he was a natural. From the moment he picked up a racket, it was clear he had a natural talent for the sport.
In no time, he racked up five Grand Slam titles and climbed to 4th in the world rankings. Growing up in an environment where he was groomed to play golf from the time he could walk, his switch to tennis had caught everyone off guard.
His rapid rise to the top shocked the tennis community, especially those who had dedicated their entire lives to mastering the sport, only to be surpassed by someone who had recently taken it up. It was almost laughable, but here you were, watching from the VIP box as Rafe stood just one point away from securing another Grand Slam at Wimbledon.
“Quite a talented young man he is,” your dad remarked, his eyes fixed on the big screen with a small smile playing on his lips. You turned to look at him, noticing the rare glint of admiration in his gaze. The entire stadium was patiently waiting for their break to be over.
Your dad, Steve Owen, was an ex-tennis player, a legend in his prime who had dominated the courts with unmatched skill. Compliments from him were few and far between, reserved only for those who truly earned his respect. Watching him now, you could tell he was genuinely impressed by Rafe’s talent.
“You feeling alright, Dad?” you teased, feigning concern as you leaned over and playfully pressed the back of your hand against his forehead. He chuckled softly, swatting your hand away with a grin as you giggled, settling back in your seat. “No, seriously,” he replied, his tone shifting to one of genuine admiration.
“It’s quite remarkable how quickly he rose up in the world rankings.” His voice softened as the two of you watched intently, the screen zooming in on Rafe’s concentrated face, capturing the intensity of the moment as he prepared to serve.Everyone held their breath as they watched the ball fly from one end to the other before the crowd erupted in cheers.
“Rafe Cameron has done it once again! Only been in this sport for two years, he now has won 5 grand slams! Unbelievable!” The commentator’s voice seemed to drown out as applause filled the VIP box. You were among the first to stand up, joining in the almost deafening applause. You watch with a smile as Rafe drops to the ground, hands covering his face as the stadium chanted his name.
Standing up, you were captivated, hands clasped under your chin, as Rafe was interviewed. His fingers tousled through his sweat-dampened hair, adjusting his cap with a boyish charm. “Congratulations on winning your fifth Grand Slam! That’s incredible for someone who’s only been in this sport for two years. I mean, that’s insane!” The interviewer’s excitement filled the air.
Rafe chuckled warmly, his smile genuine and infectious. “Thank you. I owe it all to the incredible support I’ve received. I wouldn’t be here without them,” he replied graciously, his eyes reflecting sincerity as he spoke of his supporters.
“Speaking of supportive people, did you happen to notice two special guests up there in the stands watching you?” The interviewer gestured across, and the camera zoomed in on you and your dad. Your cheeks warmed as the spotlight unexpectedly turned to you.
Rafe glanced up at the screen, his smile widening at the sight of your shy smile. “Uh, I did hear some whispers earlier that Steve and y/n might be in the crowd today,” he admitted, his gaze lingering warmly on you and your dad as he waved with genuine warmth. You waved back, feeling a surge of amusement ripple through the crowd.
Admiring Rafe wasn’t just an understatement; he was undeniably attractive. Your dad caught your eye, sharing a knowing glance as you couldn’t help but giggle. “What? You’ve practically given him your approval,” you teased, playfully winking at your dad. He chuckled heartily, clearly enjoying the playful banter.
With your dad’s esteemed reputation in tennis came certain privileges, like standing on court beside Rafe Cameron to award him his trophy.
“Congratulations, Rafe,” you said with a warm smile as he shook your hand, his eyes locking onto yours. “Thank you, y/n,” Rafe replied, his hand lingering on yours a moment longer than necessary, until you heard your dad clear his throat beside you. Rafe quickly released your hand to shake your dad’s, and you couldn’t help but stifle a giggle.
“Really well done, young man. Hope you know my team will be in contact with yours very soon,” your dad said with a smile that carried weight, momentarily stunning Rafe at the idea of some sort of partnership. “Thank you, sir. Means a lot coming from you,” Rafe nodded respectfully, acknowledging the significance of your dad’s words before joining him for the group photo.
As the camera clicked, capturing the celebratory moment, you felt your dad’s gentle tug, positioning you next to Rafe. You glanced at your dad, who smiled knowingly for the camera before Rafe’s hand lightly rested on your lower back. The touch sent a wave of warmth through you, causing your cheeks to flush as you focused on smiling for the photo.
y/n_owen
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Liked by rafecameronofficial, wimbledon, paulabadosa, tennistv, cartier and 6,937,255 others
hi @wimbledon 🍓
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rafecameronofficial: oh hey.
↘️ y/n_owen: hii
↘️ user01: What’s this? 🤨
↘️ user02: THE WAY HE LOOKED AT HER IN THAT INTERVIEW
user03: Rafe Cameron x Y/n Owen would be THE it couple
↘️ user04: frl frl
user05: whatever is going on with Rafe and y/n, I ship it so bad
#tennis player!rafecameron x owen!reader#drew starkey#rafe cameron#fanfiction#outer banks#rafe cameron x reader#drew starkey x reader#drew starkey x y/n#rafe cameron smut#rafe cameron x you#obx fanfiction#rafe cameron outer banks#rafe cameron fanfiction#rafe cameron imagine#outer banks x reader#drew starkey x female reader#outerbanks rafe#rafe cameron x y/n#rafe x you#obx#rafe x reader#rafe cameron x female reader#rafe cameron x oc#tennis player!rafe cameron#rafe fanfiction#outer banks x you#outer banks x y/n#rafe outer banks#rafe cameron au#tennis player!rafe cameron au
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soo maybe for next streamer reader, a roommate or something walks on stream while they're playing honkai? doesn't have to be drastic, I just think its pretty funny lol
Reader: Why can’t I get lucky with my relics as I am with my fucking character and lightcone summons?
He grumbled, looking at the horrendous body piece relic he just got. The stats were utterly disgusting to look at, death would be a mercy then gazing upon the trash on his screen.
—Meanwhile, inside the game in the character closet—
Jade: Who would dare mess with the relic stats! Scammer! Is this your doing!!
Sampo: Ah—!! N-not-not at all! I swear it! Haha..~ 😅
Ruan Mei: Could this… blasphemy be the work of Nanook?
Dr. Ratio: Or perhaps it’s Aha’s doing. It’s no secret how they enjoy their… sloppy pranks to gain their graces gaze.
Sparkle: Haaa?! Please. Aha has more class than THIS.
Herta: WOULD YOU ALL SHUT UP!! Any more loud speculations and the prophecy will be in jeopardy!!
—The 4 Characters—
Tingyun: Ahh… This… wasn’t how it was supposed to go down…
Luocha: You’ve been given TOO many chances. No more will you be allowed to conduct your.. ‘business charms’ onto the relics.
Tingyun: AHH! W-wait hold on—!
Blade: Silence foxian. Be grateful you’re allowed to live after such acts.
Jingliu: If it were me, I’d have stricken you down instantaneously for such atrociously disgusting acts.
Tingyun: C-come on benefactors! This is clearly the work of those parasites! My charms NEVER—
—back to reader—
Chatter 1: Get that demon off the screen
Chatter 2: Bro just stop doing grinding for relics 😭🙏
Reader: You guys suck. I clearly need emotion support here and yall—!
Roommate: That fucking relic is gonna increase the damn bills!!
His roommate slams open the door and yells, making m/n yelp and jump, flicking around to see his roommate before sighing in relief and covering his face, leaning on the desk.
Characters: This fucking bitch again!!?
Roommate: Here lemme just do god and Satan a favor~
They walked to his monitor, grabbing his controller/mouse and clicking off the screen, going to the relic inventory and deleting the disgusting relic m/n just acquired.
M/n: Thanks.. man..
Roommate: Any time… literally. Haha~!
M/n: Go fuck yourself
They ruffled m/n’s hair, ignoring the viewers comments and not noticing the 4 characters change their facial expressions into disgust.
To be so blunt and inelegant with their grace… LIVING in THEIR home was… a violation! One worthy of death (they might be jealous)
Blade’s frown deepened into a full blown growl, while the other 3 had their own angered face. Jingliu activating her technique and freezing everything around her besides her 3 companions, Tingyun gaining an electric spark in her eyes, and Luocha preparing his coffin.
Rappa: Evil Samurai, must be eradicated. Ninja master Voidbrone must be saved from such evil.
Argenti: What an ugly spec in the presence of beauty themselves.
Boothill: Tch.. Muddle-Fugder!
Kafka: My oh my… Elio oughta have a plan on how to end this.. creature’s existence.
M/n: You’ve exceeded your welcome, exit stage left fucker.
Roommate: Yeah alright you beta cuck.
M/n: Suck my dick you—!!
-The End-
#honkai star rail#hsr#male reader#yandere#self aware honkai star rail#sahsrau#self aware video game#self aware hsr x male reader#self aware hsr#self aware hsr idea#cult self aware hsr#honkai star rail x male reader#streamer male reader#hsr x male reader#self aware honkai star rail x male reader#cult sahsrau#cult au
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Ink Master
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Player 001 x reader [SMUT]📸
Masterlist <- Comment on this post to be added to the tag list
Note: pretend you have tattoos, sick ones, whatever your heart desires. I’m heavily tattoos and wanna give love to my tattooed and wanting to be tattooed girlies. In this, i am describing a few of the tattoos I have, yes each one has a real meaning behind it. If so desired, I can explain the meaning behind each one.
You sat down with your friends eating dinner, laughing, and talking. The day seemed to have never happened, even Gi Hun and Young il were laughing so hard they were crying. You got a sudden heat flash. You ruled out the possibility of a cold as you had immediately. You stood to take your jacket off. Pulling the sleeves down one by one revealing tattoo filled arms. Young il looked you up and down before looking away quickly. A smile crept onto his face as butterflies erupted from his stomach.
“Wow, (y/n)” Dae ho exclaimed. “Your tattoos look so cool! I love that on your arm. Oh oh, and that steers head.”
“Thank you!” You beamed looking at the artwork that covered your skin. “I’ve been getting tattooed since i was 15 I’m 24 now, so about 9 years of work” you laugh, feeling the nostalgia of the tattoos.
“Do you have more?” Young il asks politely.
“I have a lot more, my back is done, rib cage, all the way up to my collar bone” you pulled your shirt collar down slightly to reveal bats that lined your collarbone, a betta fish on the left side.
“Wow, did they hurt?” Young il asks. “I mean, obviously they hurt, but you know, which one hurt the most?” he asks hating himself for how stupid he sounded.
“The one i have above my uhh lady part.” You giggled awkwardly. “That one was not comfortable at all, and i have both nipples pierced.” You admitted.
“You heard the signal for bed time. You retreated to your bed smiling at Young il as he lays in his bed next to yours. He wanted to see all of them, maybe hear a story or two, find out what they mean. Each and every one of them, no matter how bad the story may be.
He lays awake, he turned to you as he heard you rise up from your bed.
“(Y/n)? Are you okay?” He asked.
“Yeah, i just have to pee really bad.”
“Yeah, so do I, mind if we walk together?” He asked, hoping it wouldn’t be too weird.
“Yeah of course, maybe if there are two of us they’ll let us in” you smile gently, taking his hand in yours, pulling you towards the door. You knocked softly the pink guy opened the window. “I need to use the restroom, and so does he.” You moved aside so they could see Young il, he smiled bashfully. The door opened immediately, allowing the two of you to leave the room. You walked towards the ladies room before you soon felt yourself get pulled into the men’s.
“Young il? What’re you doing?”
“I know this sounds really stupid, but can i see the rest of your tattoos?” He asked. You nodded and pulled him into a stall. He gently pulled your shirt up, then your sports bra, revealing tattoos all down your sternum and stomach, right rib cage covered with sharks, left side presented numerous scriptures.
You felt Young il's hands grasping your waist, pulling you closer to him as you stood in the bathroom stall, the need to get back to the room before other noticed you were gone for too long creating a sense of urgency. His eyes were fixed on your skin, ignoring everything, roaming over the intricate tattoos that covered your body. You could sense his obsession, his fascination with the artwork that adorned your body.
"You're so beautiful," he whispered, his breath hot against your ear. "These tattoos... they're a part of you, aren't they?" His voice was laced with an unspoken question, as if he was trying to understand the story behind each design.
You nodded, feeling his fingers tracing the lines of a snake coiled around your right arm. "Each one has a story," you replied, your voice barely above a whisper. "A piece of me, etched into my skin forever." He turned you again, this time facing away from him. His hands roamed over the Japanese waves on your back and hips before moving lower to grip your ass cheeks firmly but gently.
Young il's lips brushed against the cherry blossom tree on your shoulder. He kissed each petal gently, reverently, as if worshiping the art itself. His hands slid down your back, following the curve of a dragon's tail that wrapped around your spine. Every touch sent shivers down your spine. He touched the angel on your right shoulder blade, following the angels hand as it reached for a skeleton that stood by the open mouth of the dragon, begging to be saved silently. He stared in awe at the scene before him.
"I want to explore every inch of you," he panted, turning you back around, his mouth moving to yours in a fierce kiss. You felt him harden against you, his desire fueled by his fixation on your tattoos.
As you broke apart for air, Young il gazed at the animal on your chest. "Tell me about this one," he asked, tracing the lions head with his finger. Before pulling your pants down to your ankles.
You smiled mischievously. "That one's for protection," you replied. "A fierce protector against those who would try to hurt me."
Young il's eyes flashed with intensity. "You don't need protection from me," he growled. "I'll never hurt you.”
His words ignited a fire within you, seemingly healing all the broken ends of you. You wrapped your arms around his his neck, drawing him closer as you as he moved to position you better on the stall door.. Young il continued to map out your tattoos with his fingers and lips.
Every touch was like a spark to dry kindling – it set you ablaze. The way he held onto them indicated how much control and trust had grown between the both of you in just moments.
As one hand still gripped, he entered slowly then harder deepening himself, stroking all areas sending moans escaping past your parted lips
"You feel so good," you gasped quietly in his ear.
"Your tattoos are driving me crazy," Young il replied hoarsely . He thrust deeper, trying feel you all over his body. He wished he could explain this feeling you were giving him. He was so clouded by lust, he was pretty sure he was in love with you.
Suddenly, as your muscles clenched wrapping tightly around him, it triggered something fierce within young il's thrust became faster pushing the both of you toward intense explosive peak which shredded apart any lingering rational thought leaving primal instinct only.
In that moment, all there existed were two people trying desperately not be left behind when the other reaches their climax first .
"Cum on me" you begged . No answer - only labored breathing intensifying into frantic almost sobbing sighs pushing desperately your shared goal, your final release.
And then youngil mouth came crashing onto the nape of your neck begging:
"Cum… cum on my cock please, let me drain you until you’re empty so you can do the same to me, please, (y/n)" he pleaded breathlessly.
His begging for your release was what made any remaining composure disintegrate, sending a shattering explosion through both of you, immense pleasure flowing through your veins as your body nearly crumbled from your orgasm.
His lingering moans and your whimpers as you both came from your highs.
“Young il, if i knew all i had to do was show you my tattoos to get you like this, id have done it way sooner.” You give a dry laugh.
“No, this was bound to happen anyways, you just gave me a reason to do it sooner.” He responded. He began to clean you up, then himself. He picked your shirt off of the floor along with your sports bra. You pulled up your pants, accepting the shirt and bra once you were upright.
“Let’s do this again sometime?” You ask.
“Oh definitely. Your pussy is to die for, literally. I’d die over it.” He said.
“I’d die for you” you counter romantically. “Sorry, i dont know wh-“
“(Y/n), if only you knew the things id do for you that are far worse than death itself.” He said before kissing you. When you got back into the room you got into your bed. Young il coming in behind you.
“Young il, what are you doing?” You ask, confused as to why he was in your bed.
“I wouldn’t be a gentleman if I didn’t cuddle you after sex” he said pulling you into him. You smile softly, suddenly falling asleep. “good night, (y/n)” he kissed your lips softly. He was now sure he might genuinely love you, but he still wasn’t sure if lust was still clouding his sight that made him feel that way. He felt something inside him, but it was yet to be discovered. It was yet to be assessed, maybe as he slept, maybe during the next day, maybe if you were walking down the aisle to marry him, maybe when you were pregnant and birthing your children. Would they want to be tattooed like their mother? He didn’t mind that, he’d be proud of them, the same way he’s proud of you. He loved you.
#the front man fluff#the front man x reader smut#the front man smut#the front man#the frontman#player 001 lemon#player 001 fluff#player 001 x reader smut#player 001 smut#player 001 x reader#player 001#hwang in ho x reader#in ho x reader#hwang in ho#in ho#front man x reader#x reader fluff#x reader lemon#x reader smut#x reader#reader insert#gn reader#fem reader#squid game smut#squid game#squid game season 2#young il#young il x reader#smut#lemon
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Yet another brainworm caused by fic writing! Have some headcanons for borrowing clothes from Rolan, Dammon, and Zevlor during a sleepover (wink wink)
Tiefling Bachelors - Seeing you in their clothes [NSFW]
~ Gender-neutral reader ~
Rolan:
The whole having-a-significant-other thing is very new to Rolan
So the first time you stay over and ask if he has something you can wear, it honestly takes him by complete surprise
But this man has good taste, and no shortage of clothes once he's Master of the Tower and can afford it. He'll generously share (only with you)
Rolan has very keen senses, especially his sense of smell ("I'll never get the smell out of my clothes," etc.)
The first time you borrow one of his thin underrobes to lounge around in, he immediately catches how your familiar, pleasant scent mixes with his own
That added to seeing you wear his things gives him a satisfying little rush of possessiveness
Pretty soon he's buying clothes for himself that he specifically wants to see you wear after sex
He won't tell you this part--but knowing precisely how much or how little you're wearing underneath majorly gets him going
Whether or not he acts on it, the knowledge that he could hike up those robes at any time for immediate access gives him a semi just thinking about it
Dammon:
Hear me out: in general I think Dammon would be into playing dressup in the bedroom
He's just as excited at seeing you wear something skimpy as he is watching you slip into one of his soft, oversized shirts
Will probably want to pull you into a few kisses, most likely will sit you on his lap first
He's an unpretentious guy, and he loves seeing you dressed-down and comfortable around him
If he ever walked into his room to find you sitting on the bed waiting for him wearing only his leather forge apron, Dammon would have to stand and stare for a moment
At first it's just the unfamiliar sight of it. He's not fussy about his appearance, rarely spares himself a glance in a mirror
So he's not used to seeing himself wearing that, let alone you (with nothing underneath)
Would probably chuckle and make a comment about how you pull it off better than him
Will then immediately want to pull it off you, though
Or, since it's backless, maybe he'll flush and ask you to leave it on as he hastily turns you around and presses you down into the mattress for round one
Zevlor:
As usually happens when you're in a new relationship and sleeping over, you don't always manage to bring a change of clothes
You wouldn't even have to ask with Zevlor; he quickly offers first
More than anything just wants to make sure you're comfortable and relaxed when you're in his home. Tells you to grab anything that fits from the wardrobe
Dear man expected you to put on more than just a shirt, though
Watching you saunter around in nothing but one of his old tunics really does it for him. Can't take his eyes off you
It's that mix of domestic and casually sexy that hooks him--he finds it incredibly alluring, especially the way it barely reaches your thighs
So much so that he might aim a rare, playful swat on your rump as you walk past
Zevlor's a gentleman, but even he has his limits when you're alone together
The sight of your ass barely covered is just too tempting not to smack
#spicy#bg3 headcanons#rolan x reader#dammon x reader#zevlor x reader#bg3 rolan#bg3 dammon#bg3 zevlor
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Yo can you do a part 3 of Cover Up where y/n is introduced to the rest of the members of the hotel.
A/N Yes?? I love me some fluff like that. I also had another request for a part three to this series but yours came in first so I am going to make that one a part four and because you didn't super specify anything you wanted besides intros, I am gonna spin this to line up with that request. I hope that is okay.
Cover Up pt. 3 (Alastor x Reader)
Pairing: Alastor x Reader
Previous Parts:
Cover Up (Human!Alastor x Human!Reader)
Cover Up pt. 2
Warnings: mentions of murder, Angel briefly flirts with you, jealous/minorly possessive Alastor. I think that is it, please correct me if I am wrong.
Word Count: 1,885
Master Lists:
Master Lists
Hazbin Hotel Master List
Alastor Master List
Click here and leave a comment if you want to be added to any taglists or send me an ask about it.
Once Alastor had given Y/n the full tour, she had absolutely insisted that she be allowed to meet the rest of the guests. Alastor could never say no to her and so, he had taken her by the arm and walked her back into the lobby. It did not come as a surprise to him that in the short time they had been away from the hotel's central area, Charlie had managed to set up a welcome party for his darling wife. Y/n on the other hand, gasped in shock when everyone jumped out from behind the various couches.
"I literally... okay, I have no clue who any of you are but thank you? This is so sweet? I..."
Before Alastor could do a thing about it, Y/n was whisked away from his gentle grasp by Charlie. The demon Princess brought Y/n to the center of the room, Alastor watching from the sidelines with crossed arms. She seemed to happy, so absolutely filled to the brim with joy. As much as he wanted to take her away from the crowd, to be alone with her, he allowed the party to occur. Her joy had always been his priority, first and foremost. There would be time.
"Everyone!" Charlie excitedly announced, "This is Y/n! She is going to be our newest guest. Our cook? Our newest maybe guest who is going to work as a cook."
Y/n laughed lightly at Charlie's confused words. She took a slight step forward.
"Hi everyone." she waved with a soft smile.
"Oh she's good." Angel Dust muttered and Husk elbowed him in the stomach, catching the glare Alastor had shot the spider demon's way.
"Ow!" Angel exclaimed, rubbing the spot the cat demon had hit as he turned to him, "What was that for?"
Y/n chuckled a bit uneasily, looking over at Alastor and his wide smile. Vaggie quickly stepped in, breaking the tension she felt slowly building in the group.
"I'm Vaggie." she announced in an unfounded and unexpected display of friendship, "Charlie is my girlfriend, we run the hotel together."
Y/n lit up at her words, shaking the hand Vaggie held out to her enthusiastically.
"I didn't realize she had a partner in all this! And in afterlife too, I guess. That's so sweet!"
Vaggie smiled, letting out a light laugh as Charlie stepped up behind her, placing her hands lovingly on her girlfriend's shoulders.
"She is just the best." Charlie warmly noted as Y/n and Vaggie released their clasped hands, "I wouldn't have been able to come this far without her or any of the other sinners we have working with us."
"I thought everyone else here were just guests." Y/n mused aloud and Charlie shook her head.
"No, no! We tried doing it on our own in the beginning... but then Alastor showed up. He brought along some friends and, well, he's really been such a help. We are so grateful to have him and them on our team."
Y/n shot her husband a sidelong glance, smirking mishceviously.
"You really know how to work magic, princess." she hummed, "Getting Al to be a team player? I'm impressed."
"Oh, no!" Charlie frantically waved her hands, desperate that Y/n not get any wrong impressions, "We didn't pressure him or anything, he showed up of his own accord, actually."
"Really." Y/n laughed lightly as she fixed her gaze back on Charlie, "Well, I'd love to meet these alleged 'friends' of his he brought along."
"Of course!" Charlie exclaimed, smiling brightly once again as she stepped to the side with Vaggie, "Husk is our bartender and Nifty is our maid. She was our cook too but, I suppose you'll be taking care of that now."
Husk nodded his head in polite recognition of the introduction Charlie had given him. Nifty on the other hand, was incapable of such restraint and, her curiosity getting the better of her, rushed up to Y/n. In a split second, she had climbed the demoness' body like a ladder and was perched on her shoulder, messing with her hair.
"You smell nice." she hummed, smiling and Y/n's cheeks flushed slightly pink.
"Why, thank you. That is very sweet of you to say."
"Will you help me in the war against the bugs too?"
"Come on, Nift." Angel sighed before Y/n could respond as he walked over to the pair and grabbed the smaller demon, "Don't freak her out."
Nifty made grabby arms towards Y/n as Angel lifted her into the air and Y/n's smile only widened at the sight.
"No, please don't worry. You didn't freak me out, Nifty. I am actually looking forward to working with you, I like your enthusiasm." Y/n sent Nifty a wink and the little demon's smile grew as her feet found solid ground again.
She shot a look up at Angel, nodding her approval as Y/n fixed her gaze on the spider demon as well.
"And you are...?" she prompted and Angel immediately fell into character.
Stepping forward, he leaned down towards her, running a hand through his hair while resting one of his elbows on her shoulder.
"Angel Dust is the name, but you can call me whatever you want."
He expected her to be flustered, to at least blush a bit. He waited for her to take a step back or even to be teased or jabbed the way Husk did when he was like this, but nothing of the sort came. Instead, Y/n's eyes glinted in the light, narrowing with intended mischief.
"Oh yeah?" she asked, taking a step closer to him and batting her eyes oh so prettily.
"I... uh..." Angel stuttered, completely taken aback.
Y/n dissolved into a fit of laughter, hands clutching at her stomach as she doubled over.
"I'm sorry!" she wheezed, "I couldn't help myself. I'm actually taken."
"You are?" Angel asked, growing more confused as she straightened back up, wiping a stray tear from her eye.
In a split second, Alastor was behind Y/n, his claws wrapping around her shoulders.
"She is." he replied and though his voice was calm and even, it sent shivers down Angel's spine.
Angel took a step back, scratching the back of his head as he looked away in discomfort.
"Oh, uh, sorry. Didn't realize you and the strawberry pimp here were an item."
"Strawberry..." Y/n laughed again, craning her neck to look up at Alastor behind her back, "I am not letting you live that one down."
Angel smiled, regaining his composure and placing his hands on his hips.
"Oh yeah? You shoulda heard what that girl who was in here a few days ago called him. 'Tall dark and creepy' was it?"
"And what girl might that be?" Y/n asked after a moment, crossing her arms over her chest as she sidled her way out of Alastor's grip, turning to face him.
"Mimzy." Husk answered before Alastor could reply, "She's just some lowlife who always hangs around when she needs Alastor to take care of some trouble she's caused."
Y/n let out a gasp.
"Mimz is here?" she asked excitedly, bouncing on her toes.
"She's here, darling." Alastor replied, "But she is no longer welcome in the hotel. Caused quite a bit of trouble for us when she visited after all, can't have her ruining my newest project."
"Well, can we go visit her? I miss her so much!"
"You know her?" Charlie asked, her voice laced with confusion.
Y/n turned to face Charlie, nodding intently.
"Yeah, she introduced us actually."
"Introduced certainly is a word for it." Alastor admitted and Y/n chuckled.
"Back when we were alive, she used to throw these 'singles parties.' As it turned out, Al and I both were using them as a hunting ground so to speak. When we met, he offered to walk me home and then pulled a knife on me. Of course, I already had my gun trained on him so we found ourselves in a bit of a sticky situation. It was so romantic." Y/n wistfully replied.
"Uh, yeah." Angel laughed, "Romantic. That's the word."
"So you guys knew each other when you were alive?" Vaggie asked.
"Yeah, we did." Y/n nodded, "You guys can ask whatever but first, I think there is one more person I have yet to meet?"
She turned expectantly towards Sir Pentious who up until this point had been standing quietly near the back of the group. At the redirection of the rooms attention, he felt his cheeks grow warm.
"This, Y/n, is our other guest." Charlie announced, gesturing towards the snake demon with an outstretched hand.
"Sir Pentious." he bowed lightly, "It is an honor to meet a demon as... as stunning as yourself."
There was a heartbeat, a single tense moment of silence. Then Y/n laughed, waving him off cheerily.
"Oh you, what a charmer."
"So you guys knew each other when you were alive? And you're... you're together?" Angel cut in, drawing Y/n's attention back to him as he lead her by her arm over to the bar.
They sat down beside one another, Husk slipping behind the counter and pouring them each a drink.
"Yep." Y/n replied, downing her drink and meeting Angel's eyes.
"How?" he prompted after a moment and Y/n laughed.
By now the rest of the gang had brought themselves over to where the pair sat and were listening intently. Alastor stood near the edge of the group, all the seats near his beloved having been snatched up before he had the chance. He crossed his arms over his chest, his patience beginning to wear thin.
Nearly one hundred years. It had been a lifetime since they had seen one another and the brief tour of the hotel he had given Y/n earlier was not enough to satiate the rabid hunger in his chest. Still, for her, he tried.
"Well, it was a ruse at first. Just a partnership. I watched for cops and he provided me with the brute strength I lacked. We were actually in the middle of chasing down one of his victims when he finally asked me out."
"You were a killer?" Pentious asked, enthralled.
"I was." Y/n nodded, "Until Al died and I was under too much suspicion to do so anymore."
"So you..." Charlie trailed off, counting on her fingers in deep concentration.
"Have been married for a hundred years give or take? Yep."
"Wait, hold on!" Angel exclaimed, "Married?"
"Did Charlie not tell you anything? More importantly, did Al never talk about me?"
Y/n raised her eyebrows, meeting her husband's gaze across the crowd. Alastro looked away, nearly bashful under her persistent gaze. It was Husk's turn to step in now, taking a sip of his own drink as he leaned across the bar.
"Alastor has enjoyed keeping his secrets." he candidly stated, "But there were one or two times he drank a little too much and let your name slip."
Alastor glared at Husk and Y/n grinned at her husbands reaction to the revelation.
"Always the troublemaker, that one but, god, do I love him."
-----
Next Part -> coming soon
Tags:
@willowshadenox @i-love-jafar @elfyeet @reader3 @lazygirlfanfic0-0@kahlan170@wendyphan01203-blog @fairyv-ice @clarakainda @lunaramune @mcueveryday @luxky-aish @peterpankat @corvid007
#hazbin hotel#x reader#alastor#hazbin alastor#hazbin hotel alastor#alastor hazbin hotel#alastor the radio demon#x reader fics#fic writer#hazbin hotel x reader#hazbin#alastor hazbin hotel x reader#hazbin hotel x y/n#hazbin hotel x you#alastor fanfiction#alastor imagines#alastor x reader#alastor x wife!reader#alastor x you#alastor x y/n#the radio demon x reader#the radio demon#radio demon x reader#radio demon#x reader fanfiction#x reader fanfic#x wife reader#wife reader#y/n#requested
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this is an odd request so i understand if you don’t want to write it 🩷 but i was thinking what about reader having a night out or movie night with rhea damian and jey and rhea and jey going to sleep together (iykyk) and damian and reader realised that they were doing the deeds as they were sat in the living room and like make their reaction as funny and disgusted as they were 😂 reader being young and platonic would be even funnier as damian acting like a desperate father trying to distract reader from the noise upstairs 😂😂😂
terror twins x reader (platonic) / jey uso x reader (platonic) / rhea x jey
likes, comments and reblogs are always appreciated!!
‼️mention of sex, mention of smut, angry damian, general fluff
untraditional movie night
what started as a simple movie night at rhea ended up being the most awkward night of your life. things between rhea and jey were going good, you knew it, you saw it. from the way jey tagged along with you and the terror twins, from the way rhea asked you if she could bring jey everytime you had a dinner night at your house. you honestly didn’t mind, she was happy and after what happened between her and dominik, she deserved to be happy.
so, now, you and damian were laying together on one of rhea’s big comfy couches as she and jey were laying on the other one.
you were falling asleep as horror movies always tired you out. you weren’t a fan and rhea knew it but it was her house, her rules so movie night turned out to be horror night for that week.
next week they would be at your place and you knew you were going to get revenge on her, knowing that she hated musicals, you already knew three or four movies that you were going to show them.
as your eyes closed, damian saw that you were falling asleep so he gently laid your head on his shoulder so you wouldn’t feel uncomfortable.
he covered you a little with the blanket and continued to watch the movie.
about twenty minutes later, rhea yawned, catching damian’s attention.
“you tired mama?” jey asked to the dark haired woman next to him. she simply nodded “do you wanna go to bed?”
“please…” she yawned again.
“let’s go…” jey helped a tired rhea standing up. damian smiled seeing the way rhea was being taken care of. with such tenderness and grace, love and respect, that he was glad it was over between rhea and dom “damian, you can stay here if you want and finish the movie” jey spoke to damian.
“yeah absolutely. you know where the guest room is if you’re too tired…mi casa es tu casa” rhea tiredly said to damian.
he chuckled “thank you…i’ll finish the movie and then i’ll take princess y/n to bed” he joked seeing how fast it took you to fall asleep “goodnight guys” he smiled, waving at the couple.
they waved goodnight back and moved their way upstairs, where the master bedroom was.
40 minutes later and damian finished the movie but he wasn’t tired. he wasn’t even in the mood to start a new movie but he definitely wasn’t tired. so he started looking for something fun and entertaining to watch and he landed over the big bang theory. he probably saw it fifty times as it was one of your favourite tv shows but he didn’t mind. as soon as you heard the title rolling, you woke up. lifting your head from damian shoulder, you wiped your eyes and took a minute to reconnect with the ambiance you were in.
damian chuckled “do you have a radar or something?” he said referring to the moment you woke up when you heard the big bang theory song playing on tv.
“maybe…” you were still tired but definitely interested in whatever episode damian was watching.
as you two watched episode after episode, a strange noise came from outside - or so you thought.
at first you thought that it was someone of rhea’s neighbours, or some animals outside but the noise progressed, as if something was hitting the wall.
“what the…what is this noise?” you looked up at the window trying to see if there was something going on outside but everything was calm and quiet.
“i have no idea” damian looked at the window too. but then you both heard it, moans, coming from upstairs and not outside.
there was a moment of silence between the two of you. your face was in-between being shocked and disgusted, damian was just disgusted.
“tell me it’s not what i think…” you joked making damian close his eyes and take a deep breath.
“those fucking animals…” he growled. you couldn’t contain your laugh anymore and you bursted out laughing “it’s not funny y/n…they have guests here…don’t you have a little dignity?” he screamed, thinking they could hear him but he was so wrong. in the meantime you couldn’t stop laughing.
“this is hilarious” you laughed.
“no it’s not…what are they? fucking horny teenagers?” damian was mad.
you thought they would be finished soon. but they kept going, almost forty minutes later the noises stopped “finally…” you breathed.
you and damian shared a look. when the noise stopped you both relaxed against the couch, watching the episodes playing on the tv as the rain started falling down. everything seemed back to normality. damian moved the blanket so he could cover the both of you and when you tried to relax against his shoulder, you heard it again.
noises, moans coming from jey this time.
“no fucking way” damian murmured. you hid your head between his shoulders and the pillows behind you. your laughters could be heard through the walls of the house “don’t laugh y/n…you shouldn’t be hearing this things” you knew damian was very protective of you but you weren’t a kid anymore and it wasn’t like you’ve never had sex.
“let them have fun…” you tried to calm him down but he was pissed.
“two adults. two freaking grown adults, not teenagers. couldn’t they keep it in their pants for one more night? wasn’t rhea tired?” damian was like a desperate father with fifteen kids, always trying to keep the group together and grounding you in case you all needed it.
you laughed, smiling at damian’s reaction “damian calm down…please”
“stop laughing” his deep voice only made you laugh harder “kid…” he sounded annoyed but deep down you knew he could never be annoyed at you.
“is he calling her mami?” you tried to focus on what jey was saying to rhea but his moans were low so you couldn’t really understand.
“i don’t know. i don’t care. i don’t want to know…” he said grabbing the remote and putting the volume higher.
“she definitely called him papi earlier…”
“y/n please! go back to sleep…” he sounded desperate and you loved teasing him like that.
“oh i’m definitely gonna tease the both of them tomorrow…” you already knew that both rhea and jey would be so embarrassed by the idea of you hearing them but you couldn’t care less.
“how long is this gonna take…” damian raised his look up to the white ceiling and pretended to look everywhere to distract himself.
“he gotta be pretty good if they keep going…” you whispered but damian heard you and he was clearly disappointed by what you just said.
“really?”
“i’m guys saying…”
“no y/n, please don’t say anything” he growled. you tried to keep your mouth shut but you couldn’t stop laughing, not when rhea kept calling jey ‘papi’. you tried to focus on the show playing on tv but the whole rhea and jey routine was hilarious to you and annoying for damian.
it took four full episodes of the big bang theory for them to bed done, without counting the hour prior. when you found peace you fell asleep back on damian shoulder, letting the rain be your lullaby. damian spent the night watching tv, not getting much sleep as he was still shocked at the events of the night.
around seven in the morning he woke up and made some coffee - he much needed it. almost twenty minutes later the delicious aroma of coffee mixed with pancakes and bacon woke you up. you felt your stomach growling and you followed the perfume to the kitchen where you were met with a grumpy damian.
“not a word…” he whispered when he saw your little smirk.
you nodded, not hiding your smile and you poured yourself a cup of coffee.
rhea and jey met you in the kitchen about thirty minutes later and they both had the biggest smiles on their faces.
“good morning” jey smiled at the both of you. you returned his smile while damian ate more pancakes to avoid any weird conversation.
“did you sleep good?” rhea asked waiting for you to answer.
“uhm…yeah, you?” you were so in for teasing her.
“we did thank you…” she smiled as she sat next to damian.
“i can imagine that…” damian mumbled making rhea and jey look at each others.
“oh jey, right there…” you teased her, trying to replicate her voice. laughs filled the kitchen when you saw rhea’s cheeks getting redder and redder.
“you guys didn’t hear us, right?” rhea asked a little embarrassed.
“we heard everything, mami…” you teased her once more before damian shot you with a death stare, just like an angry father.
“oh god…” jey was embarrassed but not as much as rhea was.
“i guess you had fun…” you winked at her.
they were both speechless, trying to find words but couldn’t find none.
you were sure it was going to be an interesting morning with an angry damian and an embarrassed couple.
#wwe#wwe x reader#wwe imagine#wwe x you#wwe imagines#wwe one shot#wwe x oc#wwe damian priest#damian priest x reader#damian priest#damian priest imagines#damian priest fanfic#rhea ripley x reader#rhea ripley fluff#rhea ripley smut#rhea ripley imagines#wwe rhea ripley#rhea ripley#jey uso x y/n#jey uso x oc#jey uso x reader#jey uso fluff#jey uso x you#the usos x reader#wwe jey uso#wwe rhea ripley x reader#wwe damian priest x reader#damian priest imagine#rhea ripley imagine#jey uso smut
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König Rarely Gets Sick, But When He Does...
Inspired by this ask that I was given earlier.
Okay so let's be clear, König grew up in a great home, as mentioned before in this post. He also hated school. So König grew up to absolutely master the art of pretending to be sick. He did the whole 'making fake vomit with oatmeal and orange juice' trick at 5am just to place it around his bed for his mother to find when she woke him up the next morning. I just want to point this out, as one kid with anxiety to another, if you could get out of school as a kid you did (or at least I did because I was a wuss). So, if König just didn't feel up to school on that particular day, he'd pretend to be sick and spend the day being doted upon by his sweet, oblivious and ever-loving mother. He was such a little shit as a kid.
But when König is actually sick, it's a mess. Oh my lord is it ever a mess. He's disgusting. He's a snot and/or vomit factory (almost always both). He refuses to shower or bathe so he gets sweaty and gross and he'll lay in one spot all day, and when you peel him out of it, he leaves a damp patch behind as an unpleasant reminder of his sickness. He's genuinely terrible.
But he's your terrible mess and you need to care for him.
Read below the cut for a more detailed explanation of what König is like when sick.
The worst part of dealing with König is that he can't pretend he's not sick. He used to pretend to be sick, now he tries to pretend he's not and it fails miserably. When König actually gets sick there's no hiding it.
See, König doesn't get the common cold. What he gets are fevers. Bad fevers. There's been a few times that he's had to go to hospital to get his temperatures in check. He's gotten dangerously close to getting seizures because he was so determined to not take care of himself. Thankfully, this only happens at most once a year (two or three if you have kids in preschool) but other than that, he's healthy as a horse.
The thing is, while he's being gross and smelly and awful, he's a big suck for you. He's no longer a man when he gets a fever, he becomes little more than a big wet cat. Absolutely, genuinely terrible. He will flop all over the place like a wet fish and moan terribly. He gets grumpy and angry over nothing, but instead of being in his right mind and having the sense to properly communicate himself, he'll just make bitter comments and curse under his breath as though he never left the barracks. Not at you, mostly at himself. He gets incredibly upset about falling ill and needing the support of others. You'll have to work to keep up his self esteem when he gets sick.
He's a belligerent little bug all the way through. He'll avoid moving like the plague because he knows if he tries to stand that the room will start spinning. He also knows that he can't ask you for everything, so he'll sulk miserably for hours before asking for your help to get up. He is absolutely horrible about asking for your help. At this rate, you'll need to frequently check in on him or else he'll be writhing under the covers when you next check on him. He really doesn't want to overwhelm you, but he takes this to an extreme. He just wants to make things easier for you. He hates being a burden, or at the very least, he hates being weak.
He appreciates the frequent check-ins because he always has something he wants. Maybe a glass of water, maybe a new bucket, maybe even a new book to read. He's a needy man sometimes. Out in the field he has to do everything himself, so having someone there to look after him means the world to him. He'll never be able to thank you enough for what you do for him.
He's a big fan of Vick's Vaporub and slathers himself in Tiger Balm like he's trying to slide through a straw (and yes it's that disgustingly awful). He will often ask for you to apply these balms to him if you can. He also will often put a bit of vaporub under his nose to help keep his nose from chaffing. He absolutely hates how he needs so many tissues. You'll find him sniveling in the middle of the night, covered by a mountain of crumpled tissues piled over empty boxes.
König often ends up making a nest wherever he plops down. If he needs to go somewhere, he's draped in a blanket, carrying his sick bucket, hauling a box of tissues under one arm along with a book, his phone, and anything else he thinks he might possibly need. He leaves a bit of a snail trail of discarded tissues and dropped items wherever he goes. He is a little bit of a pig, really. But you can't be mad at him. If he bends over, the vertigo might make him fall over. He does try to stay neat, but when he's this sick it's hard to be clean.
In the end, the main thing that helps König is you being there. If you're there to keep him clean, change his sheets, feed him broth soups and light meals, he'll be happy. Dote on him with kisses on his forehead and tuck him in when he sleeps. If he's really sick, maybe you can read that history book he's reading for him. If you can do his chores for a few days, he'll pay you back when he can. He cannot possibly express how much he appreciates all you do for him.
He'll give you space if you want it. If you get disgusted by being around sick people, he won't force you to care for him or do something you can't manage, but if you're willing to hold him he'll be elated. He loves being close to you. He loves being pampered by you, and he'll remember these moments fondly. The last time someone treated him so well was when he was sick as a little boy. Having you here and caring for him makes him feel safe in a way he hasn't felt in decades.
#konig#cod konig#konig cod#konig call of duty#konig mw2#konig x reader#konig x you#konig fluff#konig fanart#fan art#digital art#cod mw2#cod#cod mwii#cod x reader#call of duty#modern warfare#konig fanfiction#konig headcanons#konig hcs#cod headcanons#domestic konig#konig relationship
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Feast
07/25/2024
Pairing: Vampire!Hozier x reader
Word Count: 7,286
Warnings: vampire au, language, alcohol, blood, blood sucking, thoughts about unaliving oneself, fingering, light choking, oral (f receiving), penetration (also the reader is female and has hair covering their neck)
Summary: You had heard rumours about the man living in the old mansion down Hollows Lane. Gruesome ones. Enticing ones. Little did you know they were all true.
A/N: I blame hoztwt and my undying vampire kink for this.
Picture found on Pinterest
If you enjoy my story, liking is great, but leaving a comment or reblogging is the stuff that keeps me going. No permission is given to copy, repost or share my work on other platforms.
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There were rumours about the man living down Hollows Lane. Gruesome ones. The first time you had heard them, you had laughed out loud. A simple prank, you had thought, gone by the end of the month. But they just did not stop.
There were also other rumours. Enticing ones. The man was a seducer, they said, a master of his art, and he knew how to have a good time. You had heard women gushing about his talent, about how they had never been satisfied like that before. It was almost too good to be true. Especially since all he wanted in return was a tasty meal.
A small price to pay if the rumours about his unearthly qualities were true. And as soon as the thought had manifested in your mind, your ears picked up the deep roll of thunder in the distance. A warning, maybe. Probably not. Still it was enough to make you trip and stumble a few steps forward. With a deep breath you steadied yourself, pressing the basket of food you carried to your chest. Just one more turn, one more road to walk down. You could already make out the roof of the grand mansion at the far end. There was a whisper, carried on the breeze, as if it was calling you, a ridiculous thought, you chided yourself, but still your feet had picked up their pace again, the determined clicking of your heels on the pavement the only noise in the lamplit street.
Finally you reached the iron gate and its signature creak brought back memories from the first time you had walked up to his doorstep. You had been so nervous, almost dying inside from anticipation and anxiety alike.
You had no idea how this was supposed to work. All you had was some kind of code word you were expected to say to him.
The large door knocker felt heavy and ice cold as you lifted it and brought it down three times. For a long while, almost an eternity, nothing happened, and you were about to turn around and leave when finally the dark wood in front of you moved. And there he was. He was even more beautiful than the women had described and you doubted there were words in any language to do the looks of this man justice.
“Can I help you?”
He just stood there, waiting, glancing down at you as he towered in the doorway, but that was all it took to stun you into complete silence. Your mouth felt utterly dry, your tongue too heavy to move even if the code was short and easy to remember.
“Are you quite well?”
At least you managed to nod and that seemed to please him somehow.
“What’s your name?”
“Y/N,” you blurted out, your brain happy to start with something simple.
“Pleasure to meet you, Y/N.”
He held out his hand to you and you took it without hesitation. It was soft and warm and his touch almost had you miss out on the moment when he drew in a sharp breath, his upper lip quivering strangely, but it was gone as fast as it had appeared and soon you doubted whether it had been real or just a product of your shell-shocked brain.
“Do you want to come in?”
“Yes! I mean, no. I—” One eyebrow shooting up, he observed you carefully as you stumbled across your own words. “I’m sorry. I am so nervous and I have no idea how this works.”
“I can see that,” he chuckled. “But there is no need to be nervous. Just tell me the words and you’ll be fine.”
His green eyes were so calming as they seemed to stare right into your soul. It should have worried you, should it not, that he seemed to be able to glance at the deepest, most well-hidden parts of you so easily, but instead you felt yourself relax under his gaze.
“Carpe noctem,” you finally managed to pipe up.
“Good girl.”
His voice was low and raspy and you felt your walls tighten around agonising nothingness upon his words. He smirked, knowing full well what he was doing to you already and as much of a warning signal this should have been, it turned you on beyond reason.
“Now, that wasn’t so hard, was it?” You shook your head. “And the rest of this will be just as easy, I promise. All you need to do is be back here on Saturday, exact same time. Dress to your liking, I want you to feel as comfortable as possible. And bring all the ingredients to your favourite meal.”
You nodded mechanically.
“Are you sure you got it?”
“Got it.”
Gosh, why were you like this? Why could you not just be chill about this? You were embarrassing yourself in front of a man who would supposedly shag the brains out of you this Saturday if one could trust the rumours in this town for once. He on the other hand seemed completely unfazed, maybe even enjoying your flustered state, telling from the satisfied smile on his face.
“Okay, see you on Saturday, then,” you were quick to end this torment, even waving stupidly at him as if you had not already done enough to traumatise yourself. But he was just as quick as he caught your wrist mid-air, a movement too fast for your eyes to catch up and he did not even allow you a second to blink before you found yourself pressed up against his body, one arm slung around the small of your back to keep you in place.
“Goodbye, angel,” he whispered, his breath mingling with yours in the tiny space that was left between your mouths, a space he was keen to erase completely as he leaned in. His kiss was featherlight, making you doubt once more whether this was actually happening or if his lips on yours were just another product of your delusional mind. All you knew was that it made your knees weak and you were very thankful that he was still tightly holding you.
Even more so as a sharp sting shook you from your hazy state. Your lip. And the distinctive metal taste of blood.
“What the hell was that?” you hissed in irritation, two fingers finding your lip and as you pulled them away, the dark red liquid was shimmering in the eerie light of the evening.
“Just a little appetiser.”
You wanted to protest, to tell him off, but once again you found yourself rendered speechless by this man. And he knew how to use your petrified state as a strong hand wrapped around yours, holding the fingers laced with blood in place, and then his mouth opened to take them in, licking them clean as he stared right into your eyes from underneath those impossibly long lashes.
“Can’t wait for Saturday to come.”
You did not know how often you had gone over this scene in your head these past days. It made you shiver, every time, but even more than that, it made you want him, to a point that you started to question your sanity because you knew you would never find peace again if you did not have him. Just once.
And so you had done exactly as he had told you. You had come back, Saturday, same time, wearing your favourite dress and heels, both red like your lipstick. The outfit was not really comfortable as he had suggested, but no other item of clothing in your wardrobe managed to make you feel yourself as much as this. And god knew you could use as much confidence as you were able to muster.
In your hand you carried a basket full of ingredients for your meal, no matter how odd his request still seemed to you. Why would anyone see a self-made meal as a fitting price for…well…for what he was about to give you in return? Living in a home like that, he surely was wealthy enough to afford a cook if he did not want to prepare his own meals. Would that not be much easier and less risky than having to eat a surprise dish from someone who did not know half the time what they were doing? Maybe he had some weird food kink or it got him off to watch other people work for him.
Whatever it was, he left you no time to think about the matter further as the door suddenly swung open. Your hand was still hovering awkwardly mid-air since you had just been reaching for the knocker. And it stayed there for a moment longer, your nervous system sent into overdrive as you took him in.
He was even more radiant in his gloom tonight, if that made any sense at all, but there were no better words to describe the pull he had on you. He was dressed in all black, jeans, denim jacket and shirt, which conveniently was not buttoned up to the collar, thus allowing a fine view of his fluffy chest. Different to your first meeting, he had decided to pull half of his hair back in a ponytail, allowing the rest of his curls to fall freely around his shoulders. He might have trimmed his beard a little as well, but you could not tell for sure, the memory of your last encounter still a bit blurry around the edges.
But all that seemed secondary when he fished your hand out of its weird position and brought it to his lips for a gallant kiss.
“You’re back.” He was beaming, his eyes so full of joy that you almost believed he had doubted you would return. “Come in.”
He still held your hand, making a welcoming gesture with the other, waiting patiently for you to step inside. Another thunder rumbled through the night, louder this time, and you hurried to cross the doorstep. With a heavy thud, the door of the old mansion fell shut behind you, causing a violent shiver to run down your spine. And you could not help but feel like red riding hood in your dress, who had just entered the wolf’s den, fully knowing he would devour her.
“Welcome to my home.”
And what a home it was. Dark wood and old carpets dominated the place, staircases wound their way upwards elegantly, leading to even more rooms that seemed wasted on one inhabitant alone. Oil paintings decorated the walls, portraits as well as landscape scenes of places far and near, and here and there antiques caught the eye, collector’s pieces, possibly, or family memorabilia, passed down from generation to generation. And as if that had not been enough to remind you of those old gothic movies, the whole house seemed to be covered in a sheen of gloomy, flickering light, as if it was solely lit by candles. But of course that was ridiculous, nobody sane would rely on candles today instead of electricity. It must be some of those ultra-realistic LED candles that sat on the chandeliers and candelabras you passed by on your way as he lead you deeper into his lair.
To your great relief his kitchen was up to modern standards, at least far more modern than the rest of the house seemed to be and you thanked the heavens for that. Even the thought of having to cook in a kettle over an open fire doubled your nervousness in an instant.
You did not speak much as you went to work, but you knew you had his full attention. You could feel his eyes on you, observing your every move, following you around as you tried to concentrate so you would not mess up dinner. An impossible task, it seemed, but what could you do? Sending him away was rude and out of the question. This was his home, you had come here of your own free will, knowing full well the terms of this deal, and if you wanted your needs satisfied, you would satisfy his, even it meant to have your every move studied.
“Wine?”
You almost jumped out of your skin. He was so close, his voice coming from right beside your ear. Accompanying his words, he pushed a glass of red wine into your periphery. You hummed in affirmation as you took the drink from his hand. Eagerly you set it to your lips, gulping down a swig and then another as you found it did nothing to end the sudden drought in your throat. And yet you found yourself leaning back against him the moment his hands found you. One was careful to brush away the hair from your shoulder, while the other tenderly glided up and down your arm. You felt his chest move as he inhaled deeply, bringing you even closer, letting the deep vibration of his satisfied hum take hold of you too.
“Mouthwatering,” he concluded, and he was already pulling away, the last you felt of him the brush of his fingertips against your neck.
He must have lied to you, a white lie, but totally unnecessary as he did not seem to intend in the least to eat the meal you had prepared for the both of you. He sat across from you at a table that felt uncomfortably large at a dinner for two, twisting a glass of wine in his hand. Yet he was neither drinking nor touching the food on his plate.
“Are you not hungry?” you inquired, already unable to hide the miffed undertone in your voice.
“I am,” he stated plainly as if your question had been obsolete, as if in fact your question was the confusing bit of this conversation and not his totally antithetic behaviour.
“Is the food not to your liking then?” you refused to let him get away with it this easily. And as you waited for his answer, your fork dashed down to impale an innocent piece of vegetable.
“It looks delicious.”
He sported a smile, totally unfazed by the message of the little stunt you had pulled. If this man intended to seduce you by giving you the full boyfriend experience, even the aggravating and irritating parts, he would be in for a surprise tonight.
“Then why don’t you eat?”
“I will.” He had just finished his statement when lightning stroke, bathing the room in its cold, white light and for a second your heart stopped in your chest. It was only an instant, but the picture of him had been distorted completely, his mouth wide open, a pair of razor-sharp fangs glistening in the eerie light.
You did not dare to blink, and still you must have, as only a moment later, everything was back to normal, he even continued speaking as if nothing had ever happened.
“All in due time, angel.”
Angel. He had called you that before. You had no idea what about you exactly made him think this was a fitting nickname for you. You certainly did not think of yourself as a being of light, and no one else before him ever had. Not that this was a bad thing, on the contrary. But what bothered you about it was the fact that he had already chosen a term of endearment for you, while you did not even know his name.
“Will you at least tell me your name?”
Your voice sounded awfully strange to your own ears, a mixture of pouting and whining. It never sounded like that, not even in your lowest moments. And there had been quite a few of those.
“You can call me Andrew.”
“Andrew,” you repeated, letting his name roll over your tongue as if you were testing the sound, testing what it felt like to form the name with your mouth. It was not intentionally done, but when you looked up from your plate, you found his eyes already glued to you, and the hunger reflecting in those deep green orbs made you shiver in anticipation.
An anticipation you felt now more than ever, and it was threatening to drive you to insanity as you casually flicked through his record collection after dinner, trying very hard not to let your nerves get the best of you. You had moved to the living room now, or was it his music room? You had no idea, but the piano and the record collection let you assume as much.
“This one.”
You pulled the LP from the shelf and handed it to him. Andrew was already waiting by the record player, taking it from you.
“Great choice,” he commented. "Unbelievably talented musician, and an exceptional woman. You would have loved her.”
“You say that as if you knew her personally.”
“I did,” he stated as he found your gaze, and not for a second did you doubt that he was telling the absolute truth, however impossible it seemed.
“How?”
You watched him walk over to you, and you both knew that he would not answer your question. He did not need to. But instead of taking the last way out and run, you took the hand that was already waiting for you and nothing you had done in your life before had ever felt this right.
There was just one question left to ask, you wanted to blurt it out and get it off your chest after it had pestered you for days, but you waited until you had both sat down on the chaise longue by the window.
“So, ehm, how is this gonna go?” You were still holding his hand, your fingers playing with his as you spoke. “Do you want me to tell you what I like?”
“No.” His voice was like velvet. “There is no need to tell me. I will know.”
“Know how?”
He slowly detangled his fingers from yours, and when his eyes found yours again, something about them had changed.
“I can sense it, your desire.” His words had distracted you, allowing his hand to move unseen. It found you, found the sensitive spot of bare skin right above your knee. He did not even have to look and had found his aim still, making you suck in a sharp breath of air as his warmth seeped into your skin, gliding higher and higher up your thigh until his hand had vanished underneath the hem of your dress completely. “I can sense what brings you pleasure.”
Your eyes must have fallen closed under his gentle caress, and yet the touch of his lips did not startle you as they found the outline of your jaw. He moved slowly, placing featherlight kiss after kiss along the path to your ear.
This was the moment. It had come at last. Time to give him his part of the bargain. And so you brushed your hair aside, craning your neck to allow him full access.
“Not yet, angel,” he whispered, his lips brushing your ear, “not yet.”
Instead of the teeth you had awaited, his palm settled on the most delicate spot you had offered him. He placed it right above your pulse, claiming what was his to take whenever he desired. He could probably feel it, feel the blood rush through you, and the thought was enough to coax a soft sigh from your throat.
But your pulse against his fingertips was not the only thing he could sense. Above it all he heard it, loud and clear, the thunderous drum behind your ribs, as if your heart was waiting for the right moment to break free. That would not be necessary. There were other ways to free you.
You moaned, a sound that warmed his icy heart, and when he let his hand glide up your thigh, your legs fell open for him. He blindly followed the moist heat, his eyes never leaving your beautiful face, watching as you slowly let go. Soon you would be lost to the world, your world, and would become part of his instead. He was just about to tear the last barrier, fisting the exquisite fabric, he gave it a harsh tug and there was nothing left between you and him any more.
You were so soft, softer as the finest silk, and the moan that fell from your lips when his fingers dove in between your silky lips to spread the slick that awaited him was so sinful it almost swayed him to allow himself a little taste of you. But he knew better than that. The wait would only heighten his enjoyment. He would not let his ravenous thirst ruin that for him.
Your head sank back as he slowly slipped inside of you, exposing even more of your neck as another sinful sound broke from your lips. This was impossible, he needed to do something, to silence you for a while until he had gathered enough strength to withstand the urge to sink his teeth into you and suck you dry. And so he pushed his thumb past your lips until he felt your tongue press against it, sucking it in deeper.
Soon he had found the right rhythm, pumping in and out of you, crooking his fingers every now and then to brush along that sensitive spot inside of you. He loved how the stimulation made your breath hitch in your throat, how your eyelids fluttered in that tiny moment of pure pleasure. It drove him wild, to play you like that, and for a second he forgot himself, his thumb gliding out of your mouth to squeeze that frail neck of yours.
He let go immediately when he heard your heart skip a beat, it had startled him, but your whine came instantly, eyes flying open to find his, begging him silently to do it again. And who was he to deny you your pleasure? So he squeezed again, lightly at first, then harder until your hand grabbed the collar of his jacket, your back arching as you pulled yourself closer to him.
You were close, so close, and he wondered…Tilting your head back, he dove into the crook of your neck, his tongue darting out to lick along the prominent vein. He could taste your pulse against his tongue, taste the sweetness of his triumph as he felt your walls clenching down on his fingers. Just one more step, one more ace up his sleeve to drive you over the edge. He knew you could feel it, feel the slight sting as his fangs brushed along your neck, teasing the skin they would soon break, a promise so ardent it left you no choice but to come with a desperate shout.
He held you as you trembled and shook, riding out your high against his fingers. You were enchanting in your rapture and it was in this very moment that he vowed to give you everything you wanted, he would cater to your wants and needs until you felt you could take no more.
He had never understood those who got high on striking fear into the hearts of their blood donors. Fear only staled the taste, while satisfaction heightened it. All those hormones, serotonin, oxytocin, prolactin, dopamine, adrenaline, mixing to form the most delicious concoction.
But there was something more to it. The truth was, he liked giving something back. It made him feel less guilty about what he had to do to survive. He had not really chosen this life, well, he had, but he had been young and in love and full of hope that sharing eternity with her, the one who had turned him, would be worth it. It had not even lasted a decade before she had tired of him. Apparently commitment was not only difficult for beings with a limited lifespan.
But with her gone, everything had seemed pointless in the beginning. All the things he had given up to share this life with her, he missed them terribly. And he loathed the killing, the never ending thirst. He had thought about ending it, numerous times, but he had always found more reason to hold on. And with a few alterations of the rules, he had also found a way to make it work.
He did not kill anymore. There really was no need to. Except for the fact that there were no witnesses if he did. Still, it was possible to survive on smaller portions of blood. He needed to feed more often then, which in turn increased the risk of getting caught. And so he had come up with this transactional system over time.
It was as easy as it was effective: he gave them what they wanted, and in return he could feast. Before he let them go, he made sure to erase certain memories of the shared time, and since he was good at his side of the transaction, they came back freely.
But this right here, you, you were more than a transaction. It had been nothing but a matter of business with the others, sex was just sex, a means to get what he wanted. But for the first time in forever there was something more than hunger he wanted to sate. He wanted you, wanted a taste of what it felt like to be alive, truly alive, not just a slave to the never dying thirst.
It had been a while, and he had been sure he had forgotten by now what it felt like, but with you, so full of life as you writhed with lust in his arms, he remembered everything. And he needed more of it.
You must have sensed it, that he was about to let go, and his punishment came promptly. “Andrew,” you whimpered, as if his absence was pure agony, and he hurried, moving with lightning speed as he disposed of his jacket and made his way down to the floor. He knelt between your legs, pushing up the red fabric to expose his next treat. He was ready to dive in, to devour you, lick you into oblivion, but the gentle touch of your hand as it cupped his cheek held him back.
Your eyes were so soft, full of affection and he felt a sting in his chest as the thought crossed his mind that he did not deserve this. Not at all. He was merely using you and still… His lips pressed to your palm in a tender kiss. The gesture did not even remotely match the endearment your eyes held, but it would have to do, for now.
And then you surprised him again. In the blink of an eye your eyes darkened, your hand moving into his hair, while the other pulled the red fabric even higher. And on your lips, those pillows of sinfully smeared red, formed a smile that would surely bring him to his knees if he was not already kneeling.
Eager for the touch of his lips you pulled him the rest of the way and his mouth found you with a moan, as if you were the most exquisite he had ever tasted. But what did it matter what you were to him? To you, he was the best you had ever had, and he had not promised too much when he had claimed he would know how to please you. He did. Oh god, he did.
Swirling his tongue, he drew small circles around your clit until tiny stars started dancing before your eyes. But he had no intention of ending this so soon, you knew, as his tongue slowly glided all the way down to your wet entrance, teasing you, just to glide back up. He repeated his sweet torture a few times, over and over, until you lost count. And just when you thought he would never stop this torment, his tongue dipped into you. Hooking his arms around your legs he pulled you closer, sinking even deeper into you. You keened, one long, drawn out cry of pure delectation. Both of your hands had vanished into his hair by now, securing him right where he was. Not that you feared he would cease his endeavour, but you needed to feel him, needed to feel that this was real and not just a fever dream, your mind caught in divine delirium.
“Andrew,” you sighed breathlessly and for a second he stilled, dark eyes staring up at you, searching intently for any signs that you wanted him to stop. But you did not. Far from it. And so his eyes dipped back down, his upper lip quivering treacherously before his tongue darted out to lick one long stripe along your crevice. He sighed, eyes falling shut as he inhaled your scent, and you could feel your walls twitch upon the ferocity of his gesture. His forehead creased, nose scrunching as he bared his teeth, the two prominent fangs now unashamedly on display, and like a savage beast he leapt forward, to devour you properly.
“Yes, yes,” you yelped, fingers tightening in his hair and he growled against you. “You’re gonna make me—” But you did not get to finish that sentence before your orgasm washed over you in a mighty wave, drowning out everything but you and him. Completely out of control, your legs wrapped around him, locking him up in the prison of your thighs where he still worked you, fervently, until your body went limp and your legs finally released him.
Your eyes still closed, you could feel him, his kisses on the inside of your thighs, his movement as he left his spot between your legs, slowly crawling up your body while he covered it in more kisses, your hips, your stomach, your cleavage, your neck. You held him there for a while, relishing in the feeling of his mouth right there, right where it belonged, but all too soon for your liking he pulled away.
Your tiny whine made him chuckle, and the most beautiful of smiles still curled his lips as he resurfaced from the crook of your neck.
“Should we take a little break?”
“Never.” Your answer was finite. You did not need a break. In fact it was the last thing you needed. There was something else you needed more than anything, and your fingers had already set out to get you exactly that. Skilfully they worked, opening button after button of his shirt, revealing more of that fuzzy chest. And now it was your turn to taste him, to kiss and lick that milky white skin while you kept on freeing him from his clothes. With a moan he sank against the back rest, one hand vanishing into your hair. He did not do anything, left it all to you, let you take what you wanted in your own sweet time. It was only when you had unfastened his belt and opened his trousers that he helped you shimmy them down his long legs. You had thought he would look more vulnerable once you had completely bared him, but there was nothing vulnerable about him. He was still exuding the same predatory power you had felt the moment you had first laid eyes on him and you knew you were damned for it, but it pulled you to him like a moth to a flame.
“Turn around for me, angel,” he ordered and you did. Kneeling on the chaise longue, back turned to him, you melted into his touch as his fingers found the hidden zipper on your side. He was in no hurry to pull it down, allowing himself to revel in every inch of your skin that came to light, dragging one finger along it, all the way down to your hip, where he gathered the fabric in both of his hands and pulled it above your head.
In an instant his hands were back on you, exploring your body. One arm hooked around his neck, you exposed yourself even further for him, and when he finally cupped your breasts, kneading them tenderly, playing with your hardened buds, you sank back against his chest. Wedged between you, resting right between the cheeks of your behind, you could feel him, all of him. And it was more than apparent that he wanted you just as much as you wanted him.
Carefully your hand moved through the tiny space between your bodies until you had found him. He hissed as your fingers closed around him, teeth sinking into your shoulder as you moved, slowly, stroking him, worshipping the silky hardness until it was not enough anymore to feel him like that.
You guided him, bending forward until you could feel the gentle press of his head against your entrance. Lazily you dragged him up and down, coating him in the juices he had so expertly coaxed from you.
“Fuck, angel, you are so wet.”
And with that you pushed your hips back, sinking him deep. Your reward was another growl that echoed through the silence. He was quick to pull you up against him, burying his face in your hair. He just held you like that for a while, enjoying your bodies in unity, his hand right above your heart, his breath drifting through your hair and down your neck, covering you in goosebumps.
But then he came to life, his hips moving, slowly at first, then faster, and once he had found his rhythm, you knew you were lost to him. It was perfect, just perfect, the steady rocking of his hips, his hand following the call of your sex, vanishing between your thighs, while his other still held you, trailing up your chest until it had found your throat, gently applying just the right amount of pressure. There was no way you would last long. How could you with the amount of pleasure he coaxed from you, leading you towards your next high as if he had been born for that purpose alone.
His lips found your ear, mouth falling open to lick along the bow it formed. “Come for me, angel. I know you want to.” And while he still whispered the redeeming words, you obeyed him once more.
You would have tumbled and fallen from the might with which your high took hold of you, but he held you tight, mumbling soft words into your ear as you moaned and sighed and mewled like a possessed woman. Softly he pulled you back with him, moving your malleable body around until he had you straddling him, your head resting against his shoulder while his hand drifted soothingly up and down your back.
You had no idea how long the two of you had been sitting like this, your hand on his chest, his heartbeat steady underneath your fingertips, calming you until the fog that had clouded your mind had cleared.
“I always thought vampires did not have a heartbeat,” you rambled as you pushed yourself off of him.
Andrew smiled, like a mushy drunkard, you thought, and for a second the word besotted came to mind. But of course that was just you seeing things that were not there. And he made it so easy for you, this fantasy, even reaching for you to rest his hand against your cheek.
“There is much for you to learn then.”
And when he pulled you in for a kiss, you did not care anymore whether this was a fantasy or reality. Like a drug, his lips drowned it all out, the doubt, the white noise in your head, and made you focus on him alone, his mouth, kissing along your jaw, down your neck, rekindling the flame that had just cooled down to a faint glimmer in a heartbeat.
“Andrew?” He hummed against your pulse, and you had to swallow hard, forcing down a moan, before you could continue. “Will you make me come again?”
He still did not leave his favourite spot, as if you had simply asked him for the time and not to fuck you again. “If that is what you want.”
It was. It was all you wanted, all you could think of right now. And since he made no inclination to give you what you wanted anytime soon, you reached for him. With a gasp you found him, still hard and ready for you. And as you guided him once more to where you needed to feel him, you told him about something else you wanted, something you longed for even more than for your next high.
“I want you to come with me this time.” Your words finally made his mouth still, his head slowly coming back to light as you continued, “I want to feel it, want to feel you, deep inside, pulsing in your rapture.”
A growl rumbled deep in his chest, and there was something about his eyes that made you want to run, something wild, something carnal, something you could taste on his tongue as he pulled you in for another kiss, deep and searing, while he pushed up inside you in one sleek thrust. You pulled away in a gasp, panting heavily as you stared down at him. He had the audacity to smirk, his eyes darkening with every passing second.
“Go on then, angel. Make me come.”
As he spoke, his hands had grabbed your hips. He was guiding you now, the roll of your pelvis against his, just for a while, until he trusted you had overcome your surprise. And when you moved on your own, you could feel his hands wandering up the length of your back. His tenderness was misleading, your suspicion proven right as he dragged them back down harshly, his nails surely leaving trails in their wake. You keened upon the unexpected sensation, your head lulling back. And it seemed this was the moment he had been waiting for all along. Immediately his head dove down to your chest to claim his reward, sucking in your nipple like a starved man.
You felt as if you were falling, tumbling through the air while he kept on ravaging you. In a desperate attempt to save yourself, to grab onto something for dear life, your fingers found his hair again. You pulled and still he did not budge, tormenting your soft flesh until you were betrayed by your own body and he was rewarded with an unhinged twitch around his length.
“It feels so good,” he moaned, and then it seemed you were not the only one who found herself betrayed by her own body when he confessed, “You feel so good.”
And while you were still soaring on his declaration, however insignificant it might have been, he hit that one spot inside of you that made you clench even more violently than before. He moaned again, a low, guttural sound that made you quiver, and when your eyes locked with his, another smirk had found its way onto his lips. Like a bloodhound he had locked onto that spot that made you dizzy with desire, sending those tiny shocks through your body with every hit, they spread and pulsed, crawling along your skin until you could feel the racing beat of your heart underneath the thin layer of skin that covered your neck.
He must have felt it too, one arm wrapping around you to pull you closer, while he used his free hand to brush away every last strand of hair from your shoulder. His gaze found you once more, and now the hunger was more apparent than ever, wafting through the dark pools of green, mixing, until they had lost all colour and you stared into pure darkness.
Giving permission was easier than you had thought, it felt natural to nod, to watch his fangs grow to full size once he knew you did not oppose, to feel him grow inside you at the same time, and just as his teeth broke through your skin, he came, giving you everything he had while he took what he needed in return.
You had feared it would be painful, but all you felt was pure bliss as he feasted on you, as he stilled the craving that he must have felt all night, stilled it on you. And as you gave yourself to him completely, you were carried away by the unexpected momentum of your high. You fell again, spiralling through a tunnel of colours that burst through the darkness around you. You felt light as a feather, but plunged down with the speed of a rock. And yet there was no room for fear. Not even as the colours began to fade and you were left with nothing but darkness.
You were dizzy, almost delirious, fighting so hard to hold on to consciousness, and if you failed, it would be his fault entirely. It was not supposed to end like this, but you had tasted so good, so scrumptious, that your taste had sparked the faint hope he would finally be sated. An illusion, of course. This hunger would never end, but it had made him foolish, had made him take more than he usually did, almost too much. It had taken him everything to pull away, just in time, as it seemed.
A soft sigh came from the place against his chest where your head rested. He was still cradling you, softly rocking you back and forth after he had mumbled his futile apologies. You probably did not even hear them in the state you were in. The state he had put you in.
He cursed himself as he carefully scooped you up into his arms. He usually did not let the donors stay over, never, that rule had not ever been broken before, but he did not care about rules anymore. What he cared about was you, and you needed rest.
Slowly he lowered you onto his bed before he laid down by your side, draping the sheets over you both.
“Sleep, my angel, you deserve to rest.”
You looked so peaceful in your slumber, and he did not even question why his hand reached out for you. Lovingly, he brushed away a strand of hair that had fallen into your face, his fingertips gliding across your brow, your cheek. He wanted to touch your lips as well, but he was afraid he would wake you, and so he kept his distance, his fingers still tracing their form, even if he could not feel their silky touch.
You were different. He had felt it all along, but it was only when he had tasted you, rich and warm on his tongue, that he had known for sure what it was that set you apart from all the others. You were what the likes of him called an old soul. One that had lived many lives and carried the wisdom of the centuries. Maybe that was why you had read him so easily. He was sure you had at least felt it from the beginning, what he was, and the fact that you had chosen to seek him out nonetheless still irritated him.
However odd all of this might seem, he was more than aware that finding an old soul—or being found by one—was a rare thing, especially today, when souls hardly lasted for one full lifetime. Maybe he should keep you, just for a while. To take care of you, your old soul and the body that housed it. Just to make sure the world would not lose another precious being like you.
Metamorphosis (Sequel)
***
taglist:
@rosecentury
@lowkeysimpinloki
@fightmespideyboy
#hozier#vampzier#vampire!hozier#vampire!hozier x you#hozier fanfiction#hozier imagine#hozier fanfic#feast#vampire fiction#gothic fiction
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jingle all the bidet
(a wolfstar holiday au.
happy christmas eve. this is simply nonsense. enjoy xoxo)
--
Remus practically ran to the front door once he heard the knock, socks sliding on the hardwood floors, sweater sleeves pushed up to his elbows though that wasn't particularly helpful. The cuffs were soaking, and the extra fabric drooped down to his forearms, small droplets splattering as he twisted the knob in a hurry, flinging the door of the house open.
"Hello, sir. I'm with Potter's Plumbing, we got a call about--"
"Yes! Yes! That's me," Remus said, gesturing wildly for the man to step through the doorway.
"I didn't finish--"
"As long as you're a plumber, I don't much care what call you were supposed to be on. You're here, you're helping me. Remus, hi, so nice to meet you--"
"Sirius." Sirius seemed to get the hint, stepping into the house and Remus was able to firmly shut the door behind him, perhaps a little too forcefully.
"On a different day, I'd make a comment about our names and how we should join some sort of support group for parents with odd senses of humor but--" Remus didn't bother to look behind him as he walked quickly down the hallway, to see if Sirius was following him, just blindly hoping Sirius had these sort of emergency calls all the time. As a plumber does. No time for small talk and pleasantries and other superfluous information.
Just quick. Down to business. Before a house flooded. Or maybe that was unique to Remus.
"Not today?" Sirius remarked from behind, a touch of laughter in his voice.
"Absolutely not today. You see, I'm in a bit of a plumbing crisis--on the Eve before Christmas Eve nonetheless. Festivus!-- so you can imagine my stress, I simply do not have the time to pencil in a good joke, because there are bigger issues at hand and I'm hoping you'll know exactly what to do, because I am at a loss and well....ta da!" Remus stopped just in front of the bathroom door, a weak smile on his face as he glanced between the mess of the master bathroom, and Sirius.
It was a scene from a film. Except instead of the bathroom being booby-trapped and finagled to catch robbers from killing him, Remus had made an entire crime scene attempting to install a bidet himself.
How hard could it be?
Remus should’ve known when he was required to use a wrench that it would end poorly, but he had a modicum of faith, and a stubborn streak a mile long.
There was an elbow-sized hole in the wall behind the toilet.
The tile flooded. Remus’s house slippers soggy on the bottom and cast aside outside the bathroom door.
Remus had put a bucket behind the piping, but that didn’t catch much water at all when it all shot up like a geyser into the air, drops now falling from the ceiling. Remus had somehow managed to take down the shower curtain as well, and if he was brave enough later, he thought he might ask Sirius for help putting that back up.
The top toilet cover had a handsome chip missing from it.
The toilet seat off its hinges.
And the bidet proudly on the floor.
Sirius tilted his head to the side slowly, surveying the scene wordlessly and inhaling deeply. Sirius took a pencil from out of his back pocket, scribbling a few notes on a notepad before turning to Remus and opening his mouth.
“We—”
“I know, I know. You’re probably wondering what the bloody hell happened,” Remus chuckled nervously, “And if I’m being honest, I’m wondering the same thing. I-I-I read the instructions before attempting to do this and I have always been a good student. A great one even!” Remus started and then stopped, “Okay, no, that was a lie. I’ve always been an okay student, but I know how to read. And in theory, I had it down pat. Flawlessly executed in my mind. But damn are toilet’s a lot harder to maneuver than the bloody instructions made it seem and one thing leads to another, I’m squatting down, elbow-deep in drywall. Literally,” Remus gestured to the hole behind the toilet, “I guess the only thing is I’m glad the water was clean and flushed and, and, well, you know what I mean don’t you?”
“I was going to say,” Sirius started, tongue poking out to wet his bottom lip, the corners of his mouth turning upward in amusement, “I hope you have another bathroom to use in the meantime.”
“Thank god we do.”
“Alright,” Sirius nodded, hitching up the knees of his jeans and squatting down to get a closer look at the damage. The band of his underwear poked over the top of his jeans.
“A-alright, then. I’ll. Just..stay out of your hair and uh, let you get to work.”
“Sounds good.”
“Do you need anything? I think there’s a wrench down there somewhere,” Remus pointed to the broken ceramic behind the toilet. Sirius stood back up and turned around to face Remus, who, at that moment, realized he was standing much too close, now standing nearly nose to nose with a stranger-plumber and he flushed. “Ah! Sorry, sorry, I’ll just—”
“I’ve got to get some supplies from my truck, but otherwise I should be all set. The beauty of calling a plumber is they take care of it for you, and you can just relax, Mr….?”
“Remus! No, I mean not Mr. Remus. Remus Lupin. Mr. Remus Lupin.”
“Alright, Mr. Remus Lupin, rest easy,” Sirius said, with a quick smirk, walking past Remus down the hallway again toward the front door. Remus felt like he was chasing after him Sirius’s stride was so long and certain.
“No, I mean, you don’t need to call me Mr. Remus Lupin. Or Mr. at all. It’s just Remus.” Sirius nodded again and exited the house.
--
Remus wasn’t sure what he was supposed to do while a maintenance person was in his home. He recalled vaguely as a child hiding in his room until they left, pretending he did not exist--there were absolutely no children in this home, and if there were they certainly were not present at the time they were there, no sir! And typically, Gideon was the one who handled service requests. Remus making it a point to be uncharacteristically busy the moment something needed a repair. A light not working? Suddenly Remus needed to leave and return a package that had been sitting there for two weeks already. But Gideon was away, finishing up work for the holiday season, which was the perfect time for Remus to surprise him with a gift.
A shame it ended in absolute disaster.
And now Remus didn’t know what to do.
With his hands, with his time, with his anything. And opted to pace back and forth down the hallway as Sirius started working in the bathroom.
“Hello!” Remus poked his head into the bathroom, hands on the door frame. “Just checking in.”
“Checked,” Sirius told him, not moving from his position on the floor of the bathroom. Sirius’s work boots were damp on the bottom, uniform shirt rolled up to his elbows, and the long curly hair that had previously been down and dusting the man's shoulders, pulled up and out of the way.
“Can I get you anything? Water, or a snack, surely you must be hungry or--”
“I’m all set, Remus.”
“Or, maybe I could--”
Sirius cleared his throat and sat up to look at Remus, elbows resting on the top of his knees, “Though I know it perhaps feels odd, as usually, I assume, when you have guests over, you entertain them in some capacity. But in this situation, it is quite okay to ignore me.”
“I…people really just ignore you?”
“Most of the time. Spare a few odd moments of chatter, but I believe you said this was an emergency and there simply wasn’t time for that today.”
“Well you don’t seem too concerned about all this.”
“I’ve seen so much worse.”
“That’s comforting. Perhaps I could make time for a joke or two then.”
“Let’s hear it.”
“Oh, uhm,” Remus’s eyes went wide, “I-I didn’t mean an actual joke, I don’t think I have any of those, though I really should. I’m a teacher, you see. Kids love jokes, but I think most of the time, I’m the joke and don’t necessarily need to come up with something with a punchline. So, I might be fresh out, but if you give me an hour I could look one up.”
“Why did the Christmas tree go to the barber?”
“What?”
“Why did the Christmas tree go to the doctor?” Sirius repeated, soft smile on his face as he waited Remus to answer.
“Uh…I dunno. Why?”
“It was looking a little green,” Sirius finished, slapping the top of his knee for effect and Remus snorted.
“That was pretty good.”
“My godson is seven and is in his joke telling phase. I had to find a few of my own. You know, just to make sure I didn’t lose the cool godfather credibility.”
“Of course,” Remus said, and nodded, “Sorry…I’ll let you work.”
“If you would prefer…you don’t have to ignore me.”
“Really?” Remus asked, but was already inside the bathroom yet again, “Because I am winded walking up and down that hallway, between this botched installation and the pacing and the everything, this is the highest my heart rate has been in years. I promise, you won’t even know I’m here.” Remus took a seat on the edge of the bathtub letting out a sigh of relief as Sirius lowered himself to the floor once again.
--
It turns out, it was probably a good thing that Remus had never been home previously when a repair person had entered, because he could not simply pretend to not be there any longer. He was there. And Remus did not do well with silence.
“....so anyway, when we moved in, and I think Gideon--my partner, did I say that already? Oh, I did, I know I did-- wants to repaint the walls next year, to add some life into the place. But I dunno, I think it’s pretty lively. Do you think so? You go in a lot of homes, don’t you?”
“I do.”
“And does mine, breathe life?”
“The snowflake hand towels are a nice touch,” Sirius commented, as he twisted something on the side of the toilet.
“That's what I thought! Why do we need to paint and redo everything, when we can…spruce it up, with towels and…other decorations? Other..less permanent things,” Remus finished and Sirius hummed. “Not that I know much, or anything really, about designing and homes. This is my first one. Well, after the one I lived in before, but there isn’t exactly a book about how to…home. You know?”
“I get what you mean,” Sirius confirmed, “Are you French?”
“Pardon?”
“The bidet,” Sirius said from his position on the bathroom floor, back on the ground and doing something to the piping. The number of tools Sirius had brought with him was evidence enough that Remus had no business installing the bidet in the first place, the wrench he had sworn would be enough Sirius hadn’t even touched. Though he probably had nicer wrenches. Fancier wrenches. Did wrenches have levels of class? Just as well Remus would use a poor man's wrench.
“Uh. No, no, I’m not French. Not really. Sort of? My father is. Or…was. Is? He died, so he’s not…currently French and walking around saying Bonjour, or mon petit chou anymore, not that…that wasn’t all he said but he is French but just French as in dead in a cemetery. But his body-you know what I mean, don’t you? Anyway, he was—is—French, I am not. Well not, not. I grew up in Wales with my Mum. We barely had plumbing, sometimes we just went out back and dug a hole in the ground! Never had this problem with holes, I’ll tell you that much, no, no problems like this,” Remus trailed off and Sirius made another hum of acknowledgement as he worked, “Sorry. I shouldn’t have brought that up. People get weird when I do. Like oh, I’m so sorry for your loss, and I can’t say, It’s fine I barely knew him! Without sounding like a complete arsehole so, I usually just make it weird and awkward and uh…well, you have a front-row seat to that,” Remus said, slapping his hands on his thighs, the thwack against his jeans echoing through the bathroom.
“You’re not an arsehole.”
“You don’t know me that well.”
“You’re not an arsehole for not knowing your parent,” Sirius clarified. “Wales is nice.”
“It is. It was.”
“So you’re not French, why the bidet?”
Remus sighed standing up from the ledge of the tub, pacing the floor for the bathroom as he spoke, "Well, you see, I got it as a gift for my partner. Gideon, remember? They're away on business, and I told myself this was the perfect time to get ahead on Christmas shopping. If you knew me...which you don't, not really, but maybe by the end of this whole mess we'll be fast friends! I already told you about my dead Dad, and that's usually something I hold off on…it’s a bit of a downer. Anyway, if you knew me..know me, I'm terrible at planning ahead. I mean, who wants to go to the shops during the hols? Nobody. I don't care how much you love your mother--and I love mine, I promise I do, really--all the people running around, it's just too much. So I put it off and put it off, and suddenly it's Christmas Eve and--"
"That's about the worst time to go..." Sirius said, shifting his position so he was crouching instead, lifting the toilet seat off in one smooth piece.
"Precisely, so sometimes I don't even bother going at all, which I suppose might make me a bad person. I'm not! Occasionally an arsehole, but not a bad person! I recycle and, and, and I’m a good friend, I-I-I just...planning and gifts and the whole bit of it...isn't my strongest suit,” Remus said. “So I was so proud of myself! Because Gideon had mentioned wanting a bidet for the bathroom, the breathing life and the personal touches and all that--”
“I’m noticing a theme…”
“Yes! Life, carpe fucking diem! So he mentioned it, and I remembered--which is another thing I am not the greatest at-- and I went out and bought the bidet! Hid it in my office at work for a month knowing he’d be out of town today, and it would be the perfect opportunity to install it. He’d come back from his trip, go to the bath to wash up and he would be overjoyed, elated, delighted even, to see the bidet there, and I would be there shouting Happy Christmas! and for once feel like I really nailed the Christmas gift. Because the thing is, he is so thoughtful and so good at gift giving, and I…just come up short. And I thought not this year! But instead of coming home to a beautifully installed bidet, he’ll come home to…a plumbing bill and peeling up linoleum tile and a patched up hole and…a shower curtain. And-and- who knows if he’ll even like it! He’ll probably hate it.”
“Why would he hate it?”
“He never usually likes my gifts.”
“Who…doesn’t just say thank you for a gift?” Sirius asked, pausing his work to look at Remus. “That’s kind of the rule isn’t it? Even if it's an itchy sweater, or something you don’t particularly like, you say thank you and then later return it and pretend it didn’t fit. It’s not about the gift.”
“Well, I don’t know if there’s rules exactly,” Remus countered, his eyebrows furrowing as he thought of birthdays and holidays gone by where Gideon had remarked "oh, this isn’t exactly what i wanted, or you tried, Re in response to Remus’s efforts.
“Secret rules, as my godson would say.”
“I mean, sure, there’s secret…rules, I guess, but remember? were you not listening to the whole bad at gift giving part?”
“I listened. Were you gifting rotten eggs?”
“Well no. It’s just that, he, and-and-I we’re just never on the same page, and his gifts are--and well, mine are--”
“Ah.”
“And, and, and who the fuck gets their partner a bidet for Christmas?”
“Well…maybe someone who has a partner who asked for one?” Sirius said, smirking a little before getting back to his work.
“Well you’re a bit arrogant, aren’t you?”
“Or just…right.”
“No. Because he didn’t explicitly ask for one he more mentioned it in passing…he’s mentioned countless things in passing, why not just by one of those and not a major home renovation…this was a terrible idea. This was stupid! Why didn’t you tell me that? Going on about the gift rules and secrets, and the real issue here is that this was a bad idea!”
“I’m in the business of fixing up baths, not sharing my opinions on Christmas gifts.”
“Except you just did.”
“Very unprofessional of me, I admit.”
Remus said, stopping his pacing to run a hand over his face, “This is very unprofessional of me. Arguing with my plumber! About presents. And, it’s my fault, really. I should’ve told you in the call! That’s what I should’ve done, straight out the gate, just let you know the real situation, and I should’ve said that I bought this stupid bidet, and made a mess of my bathroom, and a million other wrong things--”
Sirius grabbed the bidet from the floor and placed it on top of the toilet. Pieces falling perfectly into place.
“It’s not a bad gift,” Sirius told him, “Odd perhaps, but thoughtful. Plumbers honor.”
“Really…?”
“Really.”
“You’re right!” Remus said, and as Sirius made some final adjustments before pressing a button on the bidet. A jingle played.
“And, for what it's worth, you bought a good bidet. Nicer bidets tend to be more finicky to install so…really, this mess showcases heaps of effort.”
“Thank you!” Remus responded, somewhat indignantly, throwing his arms into the air. Someone understood.
“That’s exactly what he should say. Your partner. When he walks into this room and notices--”
“The bidet.”
“The spectacular bidet.”
“What…if he doesn’t?” Remus asked quietly after a long silence, two men standing and admiring the bidet sitting proudly on a toilet with a broken top, singing its little song to prove it was functioning.
“Would you like my professional opinion?”
“...Yes.”
“If he doesn’t say thank you and kiss you full on the mouth for this very thoughtful gift…then at least you can enjoy this bidet and you throw a massive party with all of your friends and tell them to use this bathroom.” Remus snorted, thinking about walking guests into the master bedroom and bathroom during a party--coworkers and neighbors and friends, stepping on the carpet in their shoes just to get to the bidet.
“What’s your unprofessional one?”
“Find someone who will say thank you.”
“So I should find a liar.”
“Thank you for thinking of me, and thank you for the effort it took to find this gift, isn’t a lie in my book. It’s not about the bidet.”
“It could be.”
“Yeah but it's not.”
“But it is, kind of.”
“No.”
Remus opened his mouth and closed it again, unsure of what to say, Sirius grinning smugly at Remus, daring him to disagree again. This man might have had the same stubborn streak Remus had. His stomach fluttered for a moment, almost laughing, almost joyful at the silly, naive thought of spending a lifetime with a man, this man, who argued without the malice behind the words.
“It’s not that simple anyway,” Remus said, “Just…leaving.”
“Never said it was, but either way…this is yours,” Sirius gestured to the bidet, “And someone should use it.
--
It had only been a few hours, but the bathroom looked good as new. Bidet installed, hole patched up and water was mopped up. The only sign that something had gone awry was the toilet top with the chunk missing.
“We’ll have to get you a new one,” Sirius told him, writing up the invoice as they walked to Remus’s front door, toolbox in hand
“Will that take weeks?”
“No, a few days just because of the holidays. I’ll bring it by the 26th, and it’ll be all set.”
“You are truly a life saver, I don’t know what I would’ve done, and….thanks for listening to me talk…all day. I know you probably didn’t sign up for that exactly when you took this call, and probably had better things to be doing, and--”
“This was one of the more enjoyable calls I’ve had actually,” Sirius told him, pausing in front of the front door. “I had a good time.”
Remus laughed awkwardly, reaching for the doorknob to open the door for Sirius, “This feels like the end of some sort of date…do you want me to walk you to your car?”
“Very kind, but I promise I’ll make it.” Sirius nodded, sticking out his hand. Definitely not a date. “Pleasure working with you Mr. Lupin.”
“Remus.”
“Remus,” Sirius said, “I’ll see you in a few days. My numbers on the invoice, should anything come up before then. Just…call.”
--
Christmas music was playing loudly in his living room, Sirius’s godson testing out his new dance moves learned at school on the rug, his best friends clapping along and joining in with their own dance moves alongside their child. Sirius had just pulled the roast chicken out of the oven--the shining star for the Christmas Eve feast-- when the phone rang. Oven mitts still on, he hurried to grab the land line, tossing a stray curl out of his face as he answered.
“Hello?”
“Hello, is this Potter’s Plumbing?” the voice on the other end said and Sirius couldn’t help but bite back a smile. He had been in Remus’s home for only a few hours, but had heard the other man talk enough that Sirius was certain he’d be able to identify who was speaking with his eyes closed. It was refreshing. Sirius returned home that day and recounted the emergency call to his best friend, leaving out no details about the frazzled, freckled, and messy man who attempted to install a bidet.
You put your personal number on the invoice? Sirius, that’s too bold.
Sirius was thinking he wouldn’t call.
He hadn’t expected any bidet related emergencies.
“This is Sirius Black,” Sirius said, “But I am part of Potter’s Plumbing.”
“Oh, good, Sirius, it’s you. Hello, it’s Remus Lupin, remember, you serviced my bidet a few days ago and there's a toilet top that needs to be repaired, and we hung up a shower curtain together and I almost fell to my death off the bathtub ledge?”
“Ah yes,” Sirius teased, “Thanks for those details to jog my memory, without them I would’ve definitely forgotten. Did you run into some trouble?”
“Uh…No.”
“Oh…then, how can I help you, Mr. Lupin?”
“Remus.”
“Remus.”
“I…” Sirius heard Remus click his tongue a few times, “I…decided to…not…I mean, I don’t need a new toilet top. Can I cancel that? I think it looks better this way.”
“With the missing part?” Sirius asked, feeling a touch disappointed at the nature of the call.
“Yeah.”
“I’ll go ahead and cancel that for you, Remus. No problem at all. Was that it?”
“No,” Remus said and paused again, “I’m having a sort of party.”
“Sort of?”
“A party, on New Year's Eve. I decided. To celebrate the new year and new beginnings and all that, glad tidings, you know, the things people usually celebrate. And…also to celebrate the bidet that's in the bathroom because I’ve been told it's a good bidet, like a nice one even! A professional told me that, and it…uh should be appreciated by someone. So I'm having a party and I’m wondering if…you like bidets?”
“Did I not tell you I’m French? I love bidets.”
#jingle all the bidet#soft christmas drabbles#wolfstar#sirius black#remus lupin#happy holidays from my home to yours#but also this was very fun to write and such a ridiculous idea#may 2025 be the year of more ridiculous ideas
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Going back to Monstrous Regiment post-egg-cracking has been so amazing. The first time I read it, I didn't understand everything, but I had this nagging feeling that if I reread it later, it would make more sense. And now it does.
For one thing, the way that Nuggan's Abominations are treated really hit hard. In the beginning, things were well-intentioned, and maybe not so bad, but they became corrupted by a fear of change and a fear of what is Other. Nugganism became a stricter, more brutal, and senseless religion. It didn't provide hope, and it didn't provide a standard for living. The only thing it could do was cause suffering and give an excuse to inflict pain on others. The Girls' Working School perpetuated a cycle of horrific abuse against young girls who had committed no crime except disobeying the meaningless babblings of a dead god. It didn't solve any problems or act as a positive force in the community. All around, the institution of religion failed.
Speaking of the Girl's Working School, I can't recall if I picked up on Tonker and Lofty/Magda and Tilda being a couple the first time around, but I sure did this time. It was magnificent. However, I do remember that it absolutely shattered my heart when Tonker finally snapped and went on her tirade about the School and how it broke everyone that was forced into it. They were all beaten and abused in other ways; Lofty was raped and after she carried the baby to term, it was taken and never seen again; Tonker is missing her "middle gears"; Wazzer fell into religious mania [although in her case, the spirit actually was speaking to her] and turned to doors inside her head. The whole thing is fucking heartbreaking.
While the situation of the main characters can be interpreted as a trans allegory, I think it's a little more accurate to say that they were crossdressing and socially transitioned for safety. For one thing, when given the choice, they chose to live openly as women rather than continuing to present as men, although some of them kept some aspects of masculinity in their presentation. However, I think the case of the higher ranking officers is really interesting. Essentially, Sargeant Jackrum goes and deadnames all of them to get them to see sense and let the titular regiment choose whether to be open about their identities. [I know personally I would be raging mad if I were in that situation. I was successfully living as a man for years, and then the guy who covered for me just drops my old identity in front of a bunch of my peers who I never wanted to share this with? I would be mad.] In the end, it got the job done, but they make the comment that they could never return to wearing dresses. I think it's possible that they ended up actually identifying as men, rather than solely presenting as them. They definitely internalized a lot of military misogyny either way. Obviously that's not a positive or universal facet of transitioning, but it is a very real phenomenon that happens. And the misogyny can be internalized whether you're trans or cis. Regardless, the idea of living as essentially a new person and leaving your old self behind is very trans, in my opinion, or at least resonates with my experience.
The way all the members of the regiment were gradually discovered to be women was a very "Oh! You're...? Me too." moment for me. We really do just kind of find each other. When you know what to look for, it's easier to see who else is like you. They became their own tiny, close-knit community, and supported each other, although they all had their own goals and priorities. And I think that's lovely.
I have more thoughts on this [so many thoughts about the depiction of nationalism and war. Like that line about "the dead are not your masters"? Loved that], but that's all I'm gonna type out for now because my fingers are tired. But now it is here for future me to read back on, because I didn't keep any written records of my thoughts when I read Monstrous Regiment the first time, so it's basically just fuzzy memories and vague feelings that I'm trying to hold onto. It's a really good book, probably one of my favorites of the Discworld series, although it doesn't top Thud! for me.
#discworld#monstrous regiment#terry pratchett#irl stuff#howww do i tag this idk. bare minimum tags go
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Rosy cheeks, salty hair, warm bodies | MS47
Pairing: Mick Schumacher x fem!reader (she/her)
Word count: 5.3k
Warnings: not proofread; mentions public sex (but not really); graphic description of sex; p in v; oral (fem receiving); orgasm denail; mentions of food and alcohol; +18 (minors DNI);
Summary: After finally matching their schedules and booking a trip together, Yn and Mick decide to go to Mallorca for a well-deserved break. The fact that they went weeks without seeing one another and the tension around the hot weather and beach garments only helped build the momentum in which her boyfriend would absolutely ruin her in bed.
A/n: It's my first time posting a smut piece (stand-alone/one-shot), so I'm kinda nervous about the feedback lol I hope this was just enough description without getting boring or over-detailed. I got too carried away and ended up writing 5k when it was supposed to be a small smut just over 1k. Anyways, hope you guys like it, please let me know in the comments and asks (the anon option is working, so if you're shy feel free to use it) *mwah* 🤍
Based on this request. I hope I was able to deliver, nonny! 💙
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“Micky, can you help me with my bikini?” Yn whined stalking inside the room. Mick, who was lying on the bed, took his eyes off his phone to face Yn holding the most provocative piece of bikini he ever saw against her chest. Wind gushed inside the room through the open curtains, and the strings from her bottom piece moved deliciously against her tanned skin, her curls on top of her head moving like waves as well.
They were in Mallorca for a vacation after finally matching their schedules and taking a week off, far away from everyone and everything work-related. It wasn’t easy to see each other between race weeks, work, and classes, so both of them were hell-bent on spending as much time together as possible during the few days they got. Their friends were aware that for half of their break, Mick and Yn were each other's priorities, and they would give friends and family the attention, but only after working on the yearning for the other.
“Sure,” he smiled, pushing his body to the edge of the bed, and before he could get up, Yn was stepping between his legs, tits smashed behind her arm and the flowing piece of clothing right in front of him.
Yn gave him a small smirk, turning around, and recklessly, or rather, purposely as the Schumacher knew his girlfriend very well, leaving the white bathing suit fall to the ground, “oops,” a giggle escaped her lips, and she bent to pick it up. Now, her ass was right in front of him, barely covered by the white fabric. It was as if she was giving him a show, exposing every inch of her to him in the most provocative way just to rile him up. Mick felt his body get warm, hands twitching to knead and touch her flash, but he was a patient man. He mastered the game she was trying to play.
Maybe that was the reason she wanted to play in the first place: she knew he would take the reigns, knew he would bottle up all his pent-up frustration only to give it to her in the form of pleasure in bed.
“Two knots?” Mick asked, already starting to twist the strings into a second know, as it was common for Yn to ask for it in a way to secure her bathing suit in place.
“No, just one,” she surprised him with her answer and made his ears perk up with the addition, “It’s easier to take it off that way.”
Mick held in a breath, and bite his lips before letting go of the white piece and giving two taps on her bum to let her know he was finished.
“Thank you, handsome,” Yn turned around, leaving a peck on his pink lips and running back to the bathroom.
Mick knew he was in for a long day. He would go as far as to consider he was in for a long week because that was just Yn. She knew how to play his game, how to feed his imagination, how to push him to the edge only for them to jump together. She could very well keep the provocative jokes going around for the whole vacation. It was just the of them after all. They had yet to christen some spaces in the house.
It wasn’t long before they were both on the boat, the sun scalding against his skin as Mick found just the perfect spot to let the yacht float lightly with the waves. Away from the possibility of people on Land watching and far far away from other boats. It was them, the sun, and the calm waters.
“Love, you have to reapply your sunscreen,” Yn instructs with a bottle of the cream in her hands.
“You should too,” he mumbles when Yn starts putting the lotion on his cheeks, Mick’s hands instantly finding her waist to bring her body closer.
“I will, but your skin is more sensitive than mine. I don’t want you looking like a lobster later,”
“I think I rock the rosy cheeks.” It’s a joke, but he does, in fact, look stunning to Yn, especially after soaking up the sun and showing up with a new color to his face. It’s endearing.
“You do, but I’m not the biggest fan of the same color on your back, for instance,” she starts, skilled hands applying the lotion on his large shoulders. She kneads Mick’s skin and muscles under her fingers, leaving a kiss on the column of his neck and adding, “It wouldn’t be that fun to leave nails mark on your skin when it's sore. Takes away all the fun.”
And oh, did he understand exactly what she was talking about.
As the day went by, her provocative behaviors only got worse. She got bolder, going as far as taking off her bikinis to “tan properly” and leaving the two small pieces of fabric hanging on the yacht’s metal bar. They swam, joked around, and ate the food packed in the morning. It was so exhilarating to be just the two of them without work obligations looming around. Their shoulders seemed more relaxed, eyes lazily admiring everything around, body and mind completely calm.
“I love you,” Yn whispered, giving Mick one more bite of the watermelon they were sharing. His pink lips curled up in a smile, the juice from the fruit escaping and sliding to his chin. Yn admired the image before dipping her face to his and licking the spot clean.
“I love you so much,” Mick echoed, holding her jaw and directing her lips to his mouth. His lips parted, and their tongues found each other in a hungry kiss, the sweet taste of watermelon sugar still present, along with hints of the alcohol they shared earlier. “I appreciate you,” he confided, hands holding her body closer and changing positions so now Yn was directly under him, his torso between her parted legs. “I’m crazy about you,” Mick kept going, warm lips trailing down to her jaw and neck. Yn tangled her fingers between his golden strands in a silent cry for him to not distance his lips from her, for him to keep going forever.
Mick was the perfect lover, and as the sun started to change positions in the sky, bathing their wet bodies in its sunlight, illuminating the scene as if the big star was watching it, Yn couldn’t help but to feel the luckiest woman alive.
“You’re so perfect,” his elbow left the ground, his body lowering on top of hers, and his now free hand squeezed her ass. “Everything about you is perfect,” Mick stated before kissing her hard nipples against the top of the white bikini. She swore she could feel his warm mouth suck it, yet Mick did not move the clothing, just directed his face closer to her again and captured her lips in another kiss.
And as much as Yn expected her boyfriend to lose control and make love to her on top of his boat, she knew he wouldn’t do so, not today, at least. She suspected the make-out session was very much intentional, to make her horny and somehow work as a payback for all the teasing she did throughout the day.
“The sun will set in some hours. We should go back,” Mick mumbled, still assaulting Yn’s neck. “I’m cooking for you tonight,” he added.
Yn smiled, caressing his back, his muscles relaxed under her nails, “I’m starving.”
“I’m gonna feed you well, stuff you full of...” he trailed off because her lips bite his. If Mick kept throwing double-meaning words at her, she wouldn’t be able to wait until they got home. “Full of pasta, Schatz. I’m cooking pasta tonight,” he teased, and they both burst out laughing.
“We better get going if you really wanna cook dinner.” Yn pressed a peck to Mick’s cheeks, and he got up, adjusting his swim shorts and then helping Yn up as well.
The ride back to the coast was peaceful, and they took the time to admire the place a bit more, the clear waters even clearer with the sunlight. Families, friends, and couples, swimming around and enjoying the weather and the free time. Everything seemed inviting and tranquil.
They took the car back to the house, and Mick didn’t let space for Yn to suggest a joint shower. He knew if they got inside the bathroom together, they wouldn’t leave for dinner or anything sooner than in the morning. So he took the safe option and went shower in the guest suite while Yn got ready in their room.
“Did you take classes? It smells fantastic,” Yn voiced when she emerged from the bathroom. Mick was already fully dressed, in black slacks and a white polo shirt, he was barefoot, and his salty hair was sticking everywhere, still naturally drying after the shower.
“I did, in fact,” he chuckled, adding a bit of salt to the sauce. “I used my free day during the France GP to make a gastronomic tour, and they offered a free course on some dishes,” he explained before turning around to face Yn. She saw the moment he gulped, eyes trailing down her figure and taking in the sundress hugging her curves just right.
The green fabric was just the perfect shade against her tanned dark skin, although Mick suspected there wasn’t a color that wouldn’t go with her tone. Anything Yn wore, she did it flawlessly, and he would never get tired of watching her with different sets and colors going around her day as if things were normal. Meanwhile, he was trying to stop his heart from bursting through his throat.
“You like it?” she asked a bubbly tone to her voice, twirling her dress around.
“Did I like it?” Mick echoes, putting his two hands on his hips and doing a once over on Yn again. “I fucking adored it, Schatz,” he panted, and she smiled.
Mick winked at her and turned back to the stove in a poor attempt to calm his nerves. They had to have dinner before eating dessert. He reminded himself.
“I’m taking you on a ride later,” some minutes passed until the German mentioned, now skipping to the pasta dough, it was ready to go into the pan.
“Oh, then let me switch for pants,” Yn pointed at her dress, and Mick smirked.
“Nah, you got just the right outfit for my plans.”
Her eyebrows went up for less than a second before her mind registered the double meaning behind his words, a chuckle passing between her lips. She absolutely adored his dirty side and how it started coming out in hints and soft words before going on full mouthy.
“Let me help you with dinner,” it was not a question, and Mick knew she was plotting something when she got in front of him, reaching for the cupholder when he had yet to give her instructions.
Her ass brushed against his crotch, and he bites his lips to keep both, the groan from escaping his throat, and his hands from grabbing her hips and smashing her flesh harder against him. But Mick knew sex worked like the art of cooking sometimes. You had to be patient with the right timing, not too soon, or it will be undercooked, not too late as it can get burned.
However, Yn was still in her teasy mood, and Mick couldn’t do anything but try to hold himself back. At least until he finished dinner. Yn knew it was taking him everything, especially because Mick loved to feed and fuck her, most of the time on this order, but not always. Nonetheless, considering their lunch was a packed sandwich and fruits back in the boat hours ago, she knew he would make sure she had food on her belly and enough energy to keep up with his stamina.
So dinner prep was harder than Mick anticipated, and for as curious as it seems, it was the same for Yn. She was the one teasing, but Mick, sure as well, knew how to pay with the same coin, so when they sat at the table to eat, they were both flushed and eager to be over with the food. The latter was indeed as tasty as the smell gave out, and Yn did not hold back her praises to her boyfriend about how good his course was and how she was excited for when he would try some new recipe again.
After they were both finished, Mick stood up to take the dishes to the kitchen, claiming it was time for dessert, and for a second, Yn believed him until her boyfriend showed up at the table empty-handed.
Well, not empty-handed per se.
Mick had two protein bards and two bottles of water in hand. A playful smirk was on display on his lips.
“Dessert is a protein bar?” Yn wondered aloud.
“Nah, that’s for later,” Mick murmured before sitting back on his chair and putting up his palm for Yn, silently asking for her hand. She held it, and he motioned for her to get up and stand between his open legs and the table, “Did you already forget what my dessert was supposed to be?” he teased, and Yn felt her legs shake in anticipation. “What? Cat got your tongue, Schatz?”
Mick’s hand brought her body closer by the waist, face dipping and bit and appreciating the view of her hard nipples against the fabric of the green dress right in front of his face. He parted his lips just enough to roll one between his teeth, wetting the fabric, and, consequently, Yn’s panties.
She whimpered.
Mick smiled, finally hearing something from her.
“You made my job a lot easier wearing this piece, babe,” it was said out loud, but it seemed as if Mick was talking to himself for a second. Yn was too absorbed between the feeling of his mouth playing and teasing her boobs and his skilled hands traveling the length of her dress, dipping under it to share her attention.
“Micky,” Yn chanted before he smashed their lips together in a sloppy kiss.
There was a hint of wine mixed with her balm, and Mick had to withdraw for a second to let the guttural noise go past his lips. Yn swallowed it in a new kiss, fingers gripping his hair tightly and bringing him closer, taking what she wanted without an ounce of hesitation.
“You teased me too much. I’m not letting you get away with it,” the German interrupted, dipping his hands under her dress one more time, except this time, his fingers found the side of her panties and pushed it down to her ankles. A grin formed on Mick’s face when he noticed the wet spot in the middle of the clothing. Yn stepped off the piece, and he directed her body right on top of the table, legs spread for him, pussy right in front of his face.
What a dessert.
If his temper weren’t so controlled, he could easily rip his pants and fuck her until everyone on that island knew how hard they went in bed. However, he wasn’t that guy. He knew exactly how to work Yn’s body, and this week was all about extending their pleasure and taking their time.
He had the energy to do so.
And that he did when he held Yn’s ankle, opening her legs even wider while kissing her inner thighs. Yn shudders when his breathing hits her center, and there’s a jolt on her body when his lips finally make contact with her pussy. Mick pays attention to everything, kissing, touching, and tracing. It’s almost infuriating how good he is at it, mainly because some things just happen naturally, such as when he’s licking her entrance and his nose has just the perfect size to bump against her clit in a friction that makes her toes curl but still are not enough to make her cum.
And Mick knows that. He knows exactly what his body and actions do to Yn, and he has fun in the process. He enjoys every stage of sex with Yn, and maybe that’s why they find solace in giving each other pleasure. Mick gets hard just at the thought of giving head to Yn, and you could definitely say the same about Yn.
“You so wet,” he jibes, sucking her clit just enough to make her moan louder. “Look at me, Schatz, look at the mess you’re making on my face,” and didn’t she look?!
The scene of Mick between her legs, jaw, and mouth glistening with her juices, eyes a shade darker, and lips parted, ready to dive in again, was enough to bring another whimper out of her.
“Please, Mick,” she pleaded, and his sly grin only grew bigger.
“You spent the whole day testing me. Now you’re going to take it like a good girl. I’m not even close to finishing with you.”
And then his lips were attached to her clit again, sucking, licking, and drawing figures. When her hips roll off the table and up to his mouth, pushing his face impossibly closer, Mick groans, lacing his arm around her torso and keeping her in place, “Be. Fucking. Patient.” Each word was punctuated by a flick of his tongue on her most sensitive spot, and Yn can’t help but cry his name.
“Babe, please, use your fingers,” it’s a whine, a plea, after minutes of Mick lazily sucking and licking her pussy. Each time he does it gets wetter. It’s like her body is hanging on his mercy and his wants.
Yn feels his lips pull against her pussy before he withdraws, kissing around her legs, and finally, fucking finally –she sighs– he inserts one finger inside. It’s not enough, though it stretches her just right until a second and longer finger makes its way inside too. Yn’s body shakes from pleasure, and she squeezes her tits harder under her own hands.
“Mick, it feels so good,” the praise escapes between her lips, and he takes the opportunity to insert yet another finger. This time she screams his name, and the blonde knows she’s getting closer to her climax.
She was looking fucking fantastic in front of him, and, for a second, he saw himself considering the possibility of delaying her orgasm for a while longer, only to watch her body sprawled on top of the table, legs spread, dress bunched up her hips, one of its sleeves unabashedly down revealing her hard nipple and tit, hair around her head like a crown.
She was a sigh for sore eye.
Mick moved his fingers inside her delivering motions he knew would bring her closer to the edge. He let go of her hips just to find her tits and pinch one between his pointer and forefinger. Mick did it all without stopping his fingers inside of her. He explored, kissed, and licked a bit more, and he did it all, grinning up at her like a devil.
“Best fucking dessert ever,” Mick vowed.
He watched as Yn bite her lip, her hips pushing closer to him, back arching and toes curling, he watched it all unfold, and he wanted to keep that image engraved on his mind forever. The image and the feeling of her fingers threading through his hair, pushing his face closer to her entrance, seeking her own high without an ounce of shame.
The wait was so worth it.
“C’mon, Schatz, you can let go,” he mumbled against her pussy, taking her clit between his lips and rolling his tongue just right to throw Yn over the edge.
She screamed his name. She whimpered at him. It was him she praised and thanked as she rode her high with his fingers still inside her, lips and tongue helping her through the wave so it would last longer.
Mick smiled against her thighs before pushing up the chair and kissing his way up to her neck. His fingers worked on her dress to remove it completely, and Yn could only sigh in a relaxed instance while her boyfriend worked on the sweet spot on her neck.
“How was dessert?” she whispered, and Mick chuckled.
“Fucking phenomenal, Schatz. It tasted like heaven,” his words were delivered while his ocean-blue eyes stared right into her, and her body shuddered deliciously. “Here,” Mick dipped his face close to her lips, and Yn was quick to kiss him feeling the wet spots on his jaw work against her skin.
She groaned, and he grounded his hard-on against her lower half involuntarily.
“Fuck me, just fuck me, Mick,” and oh, there was something so dirty about the whole scene. Yn was lying completely naked, asking to be fucked, while Mick was still dressed up.
“Not yet. Opposed to you, I was patient, and so I deserve to have dessert again,” He smirked. “I want you to listen attentively ok, love?” Yn could only nod, and Mick kept going. “We’re going to the bedroom, and you’re going to sit on my face. Not that hovering shit you like to pull up sometimes, you’re full-on sitting, and I’m gonna eat you out for a bit longer, just so you can understand how things work when you tease your boyfriend the whole day. Then, and only then, I’m fucking you, ass up, face down. If you behave, you get to have a fourth orgasm.”
Yn nodded again, and Mick shook his head, “I wanna hear your voice, Schatz.”
“I’m sorry, Micky. I won’t tease you anymore, and I’m sitting on your face just like you want me to.”
And that she did.
“Good girl,” the blonde praised when Yn kept her hips still for him to insert a finger inside. Her walls involuntarily wrapped around his digits. She was way too needy, and he almost gave up his games to give her what she wanted. Her orgasm came in shockwaves, this time harder than the first, and her body toppled backward, back finding the soft mattress between a series of swears and praises directed to her boyfriend.
Mick kissed her naked body, fingers lazily caressing her sweaty skin, praising her silently. He reached for the water bottle, uncapped it, and planted a kiss on her jaw before handing it to her. Yn motioned for him to hold her up, and he laughed, putting her body in a seating position, supporting her back in case she fell. Yn gulped down the water and sighed, enjoying the break.
“Do you want a protein bar now, meine Süße?”
“Please,” she put her hands together in a plea and then took another swing from the bottle. Mick chuckled yet again and opened the small bar handing it to his girlfriend. “Thank you,” Yn breathed.
She passed him the bottle, and Mick finished the water while watching her munch on the bar. Yn glanced at her fingers stained with chocolate syrup, and before she could clean them, Mick’s lips were attached around them licking them clean.
“Tell me you’re finally fucking me, Mick,” Yn cried out, “I love it when you give me head, but right now, I need your dick. Inside me,” she added the last part running her nails over his neck. “Or you could let me suck you too. I wouldn't mind.”
And it was crazy how crude and free she could be around him without fear of judgment, never had Yn, in all her life, experienced love this way. The kind of love that can be both dirty and still warm and make you giggle. Mick was the perfect balance between both. He was a gentleman, he was careful, he was loving. But he knew when to be rough and dirty-mouthed, and oh, when he did, it was like experiencing a piece of heaven.
“You don’t deserve it right now,” Schumacher pondered, caressing her jaw, his fingers drawing around her cheekbones and coming straight into her open mouth. Yn sucked two digits in, twirling her tongue around and hollowing her cheeks, which cost a shudder followed by a grunt from Mick.
“But you do. C’mon, Micky.”
He shook his head, traced her face one more time, and then started to strip himself. When all his clothes are on the ground, Mick doesn’t waste any time fitting his body between Yn’s legs, mouth naturally finding hers in a languid kiss. His fingers knead the flesh of her ass pulling out pants from her. Mick could feel the familiar and impatient rise of her hips, pussy leaking her juices on the naked skin of his abs, “You’re gonna turn around now, stick your ass up, lie your face down, and let me fuck you just right, ok?” There’s a beat of silence, Yn trying to keep from trashing under Mick and begging him to just stick it in. She was so sensitive it wouldn’t take long for her third orgasm to hit. “I asked you a question, Schatz,” Mick pinched her nipple between his pointer and forefinger, and Yn whined but gathered the energy she just got from the protein barn to turn around and do exactly as told, once again body completely exposed and opened to her boyfriend. The confidence in the effects her curves had on him, and the certainty of a reward coming, only made the moment more electric.
When Mick finally slides in, they both let out shaky breaths and although his dick goes easily all the way inside with the help of her moisture, her body still needs a second to accommodate his full size. The angle is just perfect. Mick has access to the headboard to steady himself if needed, he controls the pace by holding her waist, and his hands can travel around her whole body with ease. And that’s what he does.
With one of his hands positioned on Yn’s waist, he massages her ass with the other one and bends his body just enough to leave a wet kiss on the place where her neck and shoulders meet. She whines again because the movement just changed his position inside. Yn silently looks for his hands, squeezing them, and it’s all the confirmation Mick needs to now direct both hands to her midsection, and pull all the way out before slamming his hips against hers in a swift motion.
His eyes roll back when she shudders and moans his name loudly. The Schumacher was grateful the house was theirs and only theirs for the whole week. Otherwise, everyone would hear what the couple was up to.
Hips snapping again, it was Mick’s turn to let out his noises, hands coming down on Yn’s ass in a sharp slap when she rocked back against him just right and hit a spot that sent both of them to see stars.
“Micky, you’re filling me up so good,” Yn panted.
“You’re such a dirty girl,” he husked, and she moaned louder. “Go ahead. You can moan as loud as you want. Let me hear you, babe. Who’s filling you up good, huh?”
“Answer. Me.” He punctuated each word with a deep stroke, and Yn could feel the coil starting on her stomach and traveling to her lower belly.
“You, Mick- oh fuck,” Yn choked. “You’re the only one to make me feel this way.”
The Schumacher bent his body, nipping at Yn’s neck without stopping the snap of his hips. Yn pressed her eyes closed, trying to stand on her elbows, Mick’s lips quick to find hers in a sloppy kiss, smiling and moaning, swallowing every dirty word whispered. His fingers traveled to her front and flicked against her clit, pressing and pinching it, bringing Yn to the edge.
“I’m about to cum, Mick.”
“No, you’re not coming yet,” he breathes the order, lips kissing and biting her neck, hips thrusting, and fingers moving. It’s too much, and Yn can’t help but voice it loudly. It’s way too good, but it’s also way too much. She wouldn’t be able to hold back, and just when she was about to reach that peaceful space, to snap the coil on her belly, Mick stopped everything.
“Mick!” It was a frustrated plead, and he turned her on her back, smiling up like a devil.
“Want you to look at me,” he rasped, and she mewled when he buried himself inside her again without much ceremony. The new angle brought more intimacy, and when her legs opened wider, lacing themselves around it, they knew it was enough to make them cum even faster than they would before.
Yn raked her nails through the skin of his back, and Mick rutted harder against her pussy, his hands looking for leverage on the headboard before sliding off and thrusting in harder. He repeated the motion some more until Yn grabbed him by his golden chain and smashed their foreheads together, “Tell me what you want. Use your words,” Mick ordered.
“Let me cum, kiss me, touch me,” she begged, and Mick rolled his eyes back from pleasure. There was something so unique about having that side of her, a side only he could see.
“Spread your legs wider, touch yourself, and don’t take your eyes off me, m’kay?”
“Ok,” Yn nodded and did exactly as told, fingers lazily playing with her clit while he kept his pace going. Her free hand found his shoulders holding it for support when Mick ducked his head and took her boob inside his mouth, tongue swirling around the bud and teeth scraping it lightly.
She could feel her body dissolving into pleasure, pushing her to the edge, toes curling, eyes involuntarily starting to shut, but there he was, face near her again, kissing and nipping her jaw and eyes finding hers and then sinking his dick in a hard thrust, just what Yn needed to topple over, nails digging harder on Mick’s back.
“Don’t hold back, Schatz,” he cooed, slowing his movements but not stopping. “You did so well. Can you take just one more?”
She was still dizzy in ecstasy, adrenaline coursing through her body. Her fingers tangled on his chain again, and Mick obliged, kissing her hard and starting a new series of thrusting, gridding, and hutting, now searching for his own relief.
Yn contracted her pussy, her body still riding the orgasm. It was hell and heaven, and Mick could only take so much. He tried closing his eyes, but it was her turn to bark a simple order, “Keep your eyes on mine, Mick. I wanna see you cum.”
And that he did. He stared deep into Yn’s eyes while his body switched paces on its own accord, from fast and hard, to lazy and deep, and then hard again, until he couldn’t take it anymore, his features going dark, pink lips spelling all the most profanes and dirty things imaginable before his hips stilled coming inside her, taking yet another orgasm from Yn.
They collapsed together in bed, his body on top, dick still twitching inside her.
“That was…woah-” Yn’s voice was raspy, and Mick chuckled, moving his face to the side to plant a kiss on her neck.
Yn’s fingers threaded through Mick’s short strands, massaging his scalp while they evened out their breaths.
“Is there more from that pasta we had for dinner?” Yn asked, and the German kissed his way to her chest, resting his head there and letting out a sigh of pleasure.
“I’m gonna grab it for you, and then we’re going at it again in the shower. I’m not done with you yet.” He reached for the other water bottle by the nightstand and unclasped it, taking a swing and pushing it toward Yn.
“I guess that’s what I get for dating an athlete, huh?” she joked before sitting up slightly and sipping her water.
“Oh, but you love it, don’t you?”
Yn smiled bright and big. Her body was floating after four orgasms and so much affection, “I do. I love you.”
taglist: @sachaa-ff @ferrariloverr @kenanlotus0 @mellowpizzapuppy @mickslover @Dalsuwaha @formulakay3 @mishaandthebrits @iloveyou3000morgan @crimeshowjunkie
#requests#millie writes smut#f1 imagines#mick schumacher#mick schumacher imagine#f1 imagine#mick schumacher x reader#millie writes#ms47#mick schumacher x you
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The Chain being Down Bad🐕🦺™️ for Your Voice lol (Masc!Reader)
(Content under ✄----- )
@peepthatbish once again, our lovely muse peep (name twins!!) Has come to bless me, and hopefully i did that gorgeous idea justice, and dw im not done writing them all out yet :)
<333
Sun: Masculine Reader (he/him)
Orbit: Headcanons-ish
Stars: a dash of everybody <3
(except rare ones like Fierce/Koridai/Courage/Sage/etc.)
☆
Comets & Meteors: Content Warnings: fluff & Trigger Warnings: none known.
Please comment if i missed any. /gen
Ok but like
Ur voice is absolutely iconic to them
(Like the fairy fountain theme or the appearance of the Master sword, its unimaginable to them for your to not sound like that)
And its not only the heroes of Hyrule, but anyone else who could hear you
Well it helps that it used to be ur only sort of external sign of presence to outsiders
(the Links could also somewhat "feel" you in their own chests sometimes, like when u were stressed over a boss, or sad over a cutscene)
The only others who usually hear you are mostly things like the Great Fairies, the Deku Tree, other weird ass beings that know way too much (Fierce Deity)
So needless to say, when u first crash landed thru a portal into Wild's Hyrule (ur latest Zelda game you've played u guess thats why)
And the Chain had seen u in the distance, met up with you to try and help what they thought was some poor guy who accidentally fell thru Hylia's portals
But as they heard u stutter thru an introduction, instead they knew immediately it was you
Sky and Twi seriously teared up, Hyrule/Wild/Four/Wind all attacked you with a hug and excited shrieking, Legend and Wars were just gaping in shock, and Time was just staring at you
It took you a minute to pinpoint who was from what game, but as soon as you figured it out u literally jaw dropped at Time/Wild/Twi/etc.
(The ones that look different from their in game model or way better irl than graphics could ever capture)
U also may have screamed. A very manly scream. Not high pitched at all. You didnt make Legend cover his ears or the four that tackled u scramble off in fear, what- haha
(U cant blame urself, u were in literal shock, bc that's ALL the LINKS??!! Like u needed a shock blanket like rescue/ambulances gives ppl)
After calming down, it wasnt even an outright discussion or decision u could rlly choose,
They were basically kidnapping u along for the ride, also u were there for them (in pretty voice alone but still) for all their adventures,
So u even suggesting leaving u behind bc u couldnt keep up as well as them had them looking at you like they never even considered it
(And also making them individually go thru the 5 stages of grief: 😨😟😡😭🥺🙏🙏 they were all outright begging u, in their own ways, deadass by the end of it)
So as u travel, you get to understand the full impact of Your Voice, or the Guide's Voice™️.
If anyone has a nightmare, what would normally take another hero poking them with a stick and dodging the reflex punch, or them waking up unable to go back to sleep after having the nightmare, etc.
U quickly realized only took you talking to comfort them, with no reflex punch when they woke up, if they woke up, sometimes u were so good at it the nightmare just cleared ended according to their face
In your first battle against the shadow, along with lots of black-blooded monsters, u realized how much more confidently every Link fought as soon as you were speaking from behind them
They got even better and less stressed abt fighting when u managed to crack a few jokes or go toe to toe verbally with the Shadow lol
Legend outright guffawed when you pulled a dumb "sigh... well i guess... maybe... ur mom." joke in response to his villain monologue, like wiping a tear and everything, saying "u used to say that all the time after dumb long evil speeches, its a fucking classic" 💀
Literally will have them asking you to make more jokes bc it makes them feel better in tense situations/battles (most to least frequently: Sky, Wild, Hyrule, Wind, Twi, Time, Wars, Legend, Four) but they love it equally
Okay but,
U have Definitely. Sent chills down their spines when u get into lower ranges lol
U dont understand why everyone needs to talk to you so bad first thing in the morning,
or alternatively why they keep wanting you to go on a rant abt ur fav book/tv show/thing either???
U are always the last for story time at the campfire every night, and unlike the others, they refuse to let you take a night off, u have to say smth every night??
It amazes u they like ur voice so much, huh, Wild/Twi/Wars/Four/Hyrule must all be getting a little too close to the fire, theyre faces are looking a little red/pink
(Legend and Time just look rlly pleased/happy to be here, they only ever look a little overheated when u specifically look at them while ur talking/or tell a story abt them, and they usually are always the ones asking u another question to prompt u to keep going forever)
Wars may or may not have a life changing moment he told u abt ur voice on his adventures where Cia was like, "Ah Link... let me get a good look at you..."
Link: 😰🤢🥲
You: "... and girl, I am only looking at your tiddies right now."
If Wars had smth to drink right then he wouldve spit-taked.
It was like the one time he was caught so genuinely off-guard, and u just made him suddenly feel 10x more comfortable facing her, he literally couldnt keep his knight trained composure together, he had to lean on his knees he was crying with laughter
That was the first Cia heard of you too and she literally audibly gasped lmao
It was like all of a sudden Wars and Cia had been in on a joke no one else could hear around them (Shiek/Zelda is confused to this day by that)
And there are countless moments like this from each of their adventures where u did this, u cant help but feel mildly embarassed when u hear it at first
But then seeing how much ur voice and comments meant to them and how happy it made them u can help but want to talk more and more and more
Youve never felt more comfortable talking to this many people in ur entire life,
Bc u can literally see their elf ears twitching cutely when they pick up ur voice
BEST BELIEEEVVEEEE
u arent getting out of singing to them.
Yeah, sorry, theyve heard u sing ur fav songs while gaming too many times, they need to hear u sing irl, Now.
Most of them ignore or sort of passively enjoy bards/musicians on their journeys, but as soon as u so much as hum-
Its like they're all clambering to get closer to hear u, but also not make u aware thats what theyre doing, so they end up just:
Four/Legend/Hyrule trying to hide behind various (upside down) books, behind plants that're not that bushy, or one memorable time, when u sang "Good Old Fashioned Lover Boy" quietly to urself, a bard's tune got close and reminded u of it,
and Four fully threw his hammer on his toes bc he was so shocked/lovestruck, he completely missed the anvil and just threw it at the ground/his feet LMAO
Time and Wars, cheeky strategists they are, immediately fall back behind u wherever u are, so u cant see them, but they can still hear u lol
(Theyre the only ones youve not caught actively listening/straining to come closer to hear u... bc theyre behind u lol)
Wild/Sky/Twi all fully whip their heads around fast enough to crack it, then clumsily try to recover so u wont stop
Wild/Sky just fully accidentally like fall into lakes/ponds trying to stay just out of range or even (they both tried it once, and never again after u got onto them) got on a rooftop
And fell. When u got quieter they tried to get closer and- yep.
(Idiots were fine and smiling when u came to check on them)
Twilight.
Twilight's the worst ngl.
Just fully stares in awe at you until u stop out of embarassment, and has had the audacity multiple times to pop up as Wolfie and just happily listen like you havent also been thru the adventure that literally made him a werewolf
Wind is a cutie, he always joins in, esp when he recognizes the song, and since they can somehow remember the songs u sang while gaming, it will never not be a core memory for you to sing "Drunken Sailor" back to back with "I LOVE YOU HOE" by ODETARI (ft.9lives)
with Wind Waker Link.
You nearly died when you heard him singing the chorus, like literally right after drunken sailor 💀
(Its catchy u got it stuck in ur head from tiktok audios)
(Wind absolutely makes fun of the others for being in love with ur voice, like he'll trick u into ranting abt smth late at night when ur voice is husky or ur just low energy atm, and then from behind you just mouth at the rest of them, sitting looking up at you like ur an angel,
G A Y Y Y Y 🫵🫵🫵 )
☆
Sorry to anyone whose sent in stuff to my mailbox! I promise ill answer u tomorrow!!
Im acc running another blog for a diff fandom and i got busy today :/
BUT THANK U SM AND I LOVE YOU TO ANYONE WHO SENT STUFF IN !! <3333
Like, i would write a fic for u tysm for showing me ur interest bc it feels like tumbleweeds are blowing thru LU fandom when i check the tags 💀
Which isnt awful! I just like hearing feedback from ppl or just talking abt LU and stuff :)
Peace out,
🌙
#linked universe x reader#lu x reader#male reader#lu x male reader#link x reader#linked universe reader#linked universe male reader#loz link x reader#jfc is that all of them yet#lu imagines#now?#yeah sure thatll be all the tags#well i should#peepthatbish's catalogue!!#thats the tag now for them giving me all these gorgeous gorgeous male reader ideas#ngl i feel like i cant emphasize that reader is masc enough? maybe thats just the trans in me speaking 💀
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How to study like Paris Geller (detailed)
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Create a "War Room" Study Space: Transform your study area into a command center. Fill a wall with whiteboards, calendars, and progress charts for each subject. Use different colored sticky notes for key topics and goals. This not only helps you stay organized, but also visually aligns you with your objectives.
Keep an Intensive Study Journal: Paris tracks her progress closely, and you could do the same with a daily study journal. Write down which topics you covered, how challenging they were, your energy levels, and what you’ll do to improve tomorrow. Review this journal weekly to track your progress and adjust your strategies.
Set "Record Times" for Difficult Topics: Paris loves challenging herself, so take the hardest topics and set time limits to master them. For example, "I’ll learn this chapter’s theory in two hours." Make it a personal “challenge” and track your record times. This gives you a sense of urgency and helps you progress quickly without getting stuck.
Find a Friendly Rival: Find a friend or classmate willing to “compete” with you, like Paris did with Rory. You can have “knowledge battles” where you race to see who can answer more questions correctly in less time. This builds confidence in your abilities and keeps you motivated.
Have Themed Study Nights: When you need a super-focused study session, try a “themed night.” For instance, if you’re studying history, play music from that era, surround yourself with related books, or even watch a short historical film before you start. This immersive approach can make studying feel more engaging.
Boot Camp-Style Q&A Training: Arrange “training” sessions where friends or family ask you rapid-fire questions on a topic while you try to answer at top speed. Paris would love this method to sharpen her mental agility and ensure she could think fast in oral exams or high-pressure situations.
Build a "Power Library" of Master Notes: Gather your best notes, summaries, and guides for each subject into a “power library” notebook or digital file. This should be your go-to resource, filled with diagrams, formulas, and key explanations. Keep it organized and up-to-date; having this will make you feel much more prepared and confident.
Explain and Analyze as if You’re Teaching: Paris masters topics by explaining them to others. After studying a topic, sit in front of a mirror or record yourself on video, explaining it out loud as if you’re teaching it. This teaching “rehearsal” reinforces your understanding and helps identify areas that need review.
Create a "Focus Code": Design your own unique focus ritual—maybe setting up specific objects on your desk or putting on noise-canceling headphones to help you get into “study mode.” This repeated ritual lets you focus quickly and trains your brain to associate these actions with peak productivity.
Schedule Mini-Tests and Mock Exams: Be your own teacher, like Paris, and plan mini-tests for each topic. These could be questions from books, articles, or even ones you make up yourself—just answer them as if they were a real exam. This prepares you for actual tests and reduces any exam-related anxiety.
I hope this helps, the key of studying is to romanticise it, at the end of the day you have to like it to make it productive. I you have more suggestions don´t even hesitate and write it down in the comments, I´m sure we can all help each other <3
✩‧₊*:・love ya ・:*₊‧✩
#aesthetic#coquette#dream girl#girl blogger#it girl#pink blog#that girl#pinterest#rory gilmore#gilmore girls#study aesthetic#study blog#romantizing school#coquettecore#it girl energy#girl blogging
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Haganezuka's apprentice - Fem!Reader
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You'd heard about his temper, or rather, you heard his temper, long before you first saw him. The need for new swordsmiths went beyond personal wants and so, you found yourself as one of the would-be apprentices under masters of their trade. Your master though? Haganezuka Hotaru
Since you would be entering the Swordsmiths' village proper, as a citizen and not a visitor, you had received your own hyottoko mask, as ugly as the rest of them, yet crucial for its anonymity. You were grateful to it though, because it hid your scowl during your first few weeks under Master Haganezuka's dubious tutelage.
"Not like that, you stupid shithead!"
"This is shoddy as hell. Again."
"Useless brat."
"If Kamado got a sword like this, he'd be coming back for another in a day."
It was all you could do to not blow up on him. As it was, you just shut your mouth and tried to keep up. You weren't even sure if he knew you weren't a man; after all, the masks did distort even voices.
You understood though, really. He was forbidden from touching the forge until he healed up and just tried to focus his energy on you, but he went about it completely wrong.
Every insult and snide comment fueled your wrath. It was time to show him what you were made of, what you learned and what you could do.
With bandage-covered hands from the blisters and rawness of overworking, you did what you did best as of late - forge.
The day you presented your first 'passable' wakizashi (passable for him, very good for others) was the day his comment felt less offensive and more… like a compliment?
"Hmpf, guess you aren't that incompetent, brat."
With time, the heat of his words went out of the window, his vulgarity dwindling as you improved in leaps and bounds. Despite his harshness and unpolished way of teaching, you'd become a swordsmith who could stand on her own two feet. Your apprenticeship would last for years more though, giving you plenty of time to really get to know your master.
"You didn't buy yourself any dango? Idiot. Here, take one. Don't tell a soul or you're dead."
"Here… What do you think it is? I didn't know you were so stupid you couldn't recognize tea. You like this type, don't you? So shut up and take it."
"Tsk. Brat. As if you could distract me from my- is that Gyomaru's dango? Hand it over."
Haganezuka Hotaru was just abrasive on the outside, but a big softie on the inside.
A big softie who couldn't take care of himself properly at times.
"Master Haganezuka, you need to eat. You've been in here for over a day." You cautiously touched his shoulder, hoping beyond hope he would snap out of the Zone. You'd brought dango and tea, hoping to entice him with the smell at first. It wasn't working, obviously.
He said nothing, just continued to hammer away at his latest work.
“Master Haganezuka?” you shook his shoulder a little, making him pause for a moment before he continued. Your patience wore thin. You scowled. You’d be surprised if the ugly expression wasn’t permanently fixed into your face with how often you wore it when dealing with him.
Maybe taking off his mask would make him pay attention to me?
Spoiler alert: It did not.
But it did make your face feel hot when you saw how handsome he was under it. A few shiny scars from the not-so-recent village attack still stood out against his pale skin, making him even more attractive.
Sweat made his dark hair stick to his skin, and suddenly, you were curious about the whole picture; you untied his scarf - it wasn’t like he was going to un-Zone anytime soon, you reasoned. You were not ready for the dark wavy tresses spilling over his shoulders. It was not fair how much of a looker he was. Was this man really single?
You continued to study him, memorizing his features for long lonely nights in your accommodation. Soon enough, you realized you were being a creep and should stop at once; you needed to finish what you started after all.
“Master Haganezuka!” you reached for his other shoulder to shake it. What you didn’t account for was the fact it was his blind side. Instead of an insult or even a scathing remark, you were nearly slashed with a red-hot blade in the face. You took a quick step back and it thankfully only knocked off your hyottoko mask to the ground, the wood smoking a little where the iron made contact with it. You stared at it with wide eyes, your heart in your throat and terror pulsing in your veins. “...”
“...you’re a woman?”
Your eyes met his, both of you staring at each other in disbelief. “You didn’t know?”
A flush rose to his cheeks, before his expression turned to white ash. “The old man is gonna kill me.”
"How did you not know I was a woman? The Chief told you when he was introducing me."
"I wasn't listening," he huffed, looking away.
"More importantly, you just tried to kill me!"
"Not my fault you were being stupid, brat!"
"You were being stupid. You didn't get out of here for over a day! You have to eat! And sleep!"
"Sleep is for the weak! I need to finish this project-" Haganezuka turned back to his bench, reaching for his hammer.
You snatched the tool before he could touch it. "No, you don't-" You high-tailed it out of his forge, clutching his favorite hammer as if your life depended on it.
"Wait-! You useless wench!"
Your master swore up a storm, hurling insults, screaming at you and chasing you with his half-finished blade.
Kanamori even ran out into the street in his pajamas, mask askew, a katana of his own in hand, thinking there was an attack again. Seeing Haganezuka, he huffed and went back to sleep, too tired to deal with this right now.
A few days later, the Chief came to officially scold your master. You had a kick out of it, thankful your mask hid your smirk.
#does this count as a drabble?#probably not since it has 1k words#desi writing#demon slayer#kimetsu no yaiba#fluff#i think it counts as fluff#haganezuka hotaru#haganezuka hotaru x reader#haganezuka x reader#hotaru haganezuka#haganezuka#i tried
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