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drefear · 1 year ago

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Sister's Mister

Summary: You and your sister are having issues now that Miguel and her are official. Your friends have some opinions, and things finally get heated.

TW: drinking, heartbreak, cheating, family issues.

part 1 - part 2 - part 3 - part 4

Peter had begun bringing Miguel around more and more, to whom the only person who seemed to dislike this was Miles, but they didn’t interact much. Miles always just kept Gwen close by when Miguel was around, not trusting him around his girlfriend.��

Something about Miguel made MIles uncomfortable, and he tried to tell both you and your sister, but it was no use. Your sister was in love, and you were too visceral to everything now to even comprehend what he was saying. The situation had made you into a shell of who you were.

One person who found this all very entertaining?

Hobie Fucking Brown.

Hobie saw you in that nightclub and knew you were the one Miguel had mumbled to him about a few times while he was drunk. Hobie and Peter took Miguel, Jess, and Lyla out a few times since they’d all become friends freshman year and got them all drunk.

But in the recent few months since Miguel’s summer classes started, he would mumble about some girl under his breath when he was drunk, talk about her like she was a figment of his imagination.

When Hobie saw you sitting alone in the nightclub, sipping your drink and awkwardly looking around as if searching for an escape route, he knew you were the one Miguel was fixated on. But the poor big bastard was too busy grinding on a girl who could be mistaken for a hooker, so much caked on lipstick and ass almost hanging out.

Chaos was Hobie’s specialty and when he started dancing with you, he saw a crimson fire burn in Miguel’s eyes. Over your shoulder, he kept winking at the larger of the two, seeing something itch Miguel on the inside of his throat, giving Hobie the idea that he was in for it once they spoke again.

And then the floozy was dragging Miguel over to you and Hobbie, and this made the alternative boy smile. How perfectly everything was falling into place.

Hobie pulled you closer, something that had gone unnoticed by the females of the group and had Miguel’s hand almost twitching.

Weeks had gone by, then he saw you at that party and heard you drunkenly venting.

“Big and fuckin… stupid, ya know, Gweny? And like… my sister tells me about the sex, Gwen, the sex!” You were barely coherent as you rambled and this made Hobie laugh. He walked off to find his own fling of the night and a few hours later, he saw the big guy carrying out your passed-out body.

The next day was the pool party and after the heat interaction between you and Miguel, he clapped his hands and laughed.

“Time for grub, innit? How bout the food now?” He stood and walked to Peter, who hurriedly started passing out food.

He just sat back and watched, waiting to interfere when he might be needed most, which he had a feeling would be soon.

Meanwhile, Miguel walked around and finally found Gianna in the upstairs bedroom.

“Gianna?” He asked and she turned, hugging him.

“There you are, Miggy! Did you two talk? She still seems really mad.” Gianna bat her eyes and poured a bit, and Miguel felt sick to his stomach. The guilt of wanting you made his mouth dry and his hands freeze.

“We need to talk.” He took her hand and led her to Mile’s living room.

“Oh my god.” She covered her mouth and sat down, moving away from him a little. “I guess this was inevitable.” She let her shoulders sag and stared at the ground.

“Well, I don’t think I’d say it was inevitable. It just started before us, and if I never-“ he looked up once her heard her crying, big tears streaming down her face as she hiccuped a bit.

“I’m so sorry, Miguel. It’s just- I couldn’t help it!” She gasped and Miguel stopped dead in his tracks. What?

“What are you talking about?” He leaned backwards, frowning a bit.

“This is about me and my ex, right?” She looked up, eyes glassy and red from crying now. Miguel stood up and furrowed his brows.

“This- I didn’t even know… did you cheat on me?” The words felt sour in his mouth and like razors on his lips. He stepped backwards and watched as she stood up, reaching towards him. He moved from her hand and glared at the girl.

“I thought you already knew, wasn’t that what you wanted to talk about?” She looked up to him in shame, then squeezed her eyes shut. “It wasn’t anything much, just a hookup.”

“I came out here to tell you this wasn’t working because I want someone else.” He blurted out and a hurt expression flashed across Gianna’s face.

“Who?”

“Does it even matter now? You’re the one who cheated, I was going to cut things off before anything happened with her.” He started walking away from her.

“Where are you going?”

“To go fuck someone else, so I don’t have your taste in my mouth anymore.” He growled and stormed out. He needed to find you. Now.

But you went home. You snuck out of the bathroom and went home, too embarrassed and hurt to see everyone again.

How could you face your sister? Ben? Miles and Gwen? Everything was so screwed up, so messy now and you didn’t want to deal with it. You drove home and locked yourself in your bedroom, afraid of the world.

Days had passed and it was the last class of the semester. You’d been watching your classes online so you didn’t have to leave your house, wanting to avoid everyone and everything. The only time you had to see anyone is when you had to eat, but your mom mainly brought your food to your bedroom.

Walking onto campus, the sun beat down on you so hard and blinded you behind your sunglasses. You hurried into the lecture hall and bent your head down behind your laptop screen. You needed this final grade, it was an important class for you, but there was only one issue.

A looming presence made you scrunch your eyes shut and curl over your computer more.

“We need to talk-“

“Class is starting.” You cut him off and fixed the darkened lenses on your nose.

“Fine.” He yanked out the chair beside you and plopped himself down, leaning back and folding his arms over his chest.

“That’s not what I meant.” You sighed, giving up and letting him sit there. “Did you study?”

“No.” He answered, as if your question was stupid, “Did you?”

“I tried, but I couldn't focus.” You slumped, to which Miguel bit his lip. He felt responsible for your distractions.

“Cheat off of me, then.”

“What?” You blinked in surprise, uncomfortable with how this sentence made your morality feel.

“It’s the final, and you know your shit, so if you need to look over to me at any point, just check your answer. I know I’m gonna get an A anyway, this is my whole job.” He rolled his eyes and scooted closer to you, making you suddenly very conscious of the heat of his body near yours and how you looked.

“F-Fine, but only if I need to, ok?” You stuttered and looked away from him.

“Only if you promise to talk to me after.” He raised a brow and practically trapped you with just the look in his eyes.

“Ok, but not here. We’ll get food or something.” You stammered nervously and heard the professor start talking.

An hour and a half later, you finally finished the test, only glancing at Miguel once through the whole test. A lot of the source material came back to you every time you read the question, only one part stumping you briefly before Miguel held up three fingers and instructed you that it was the third option.

Walking back out into the sunlight, Miguel grabbed your jean loop and stopped you from running away. “We’re taking my car, since you’re basically an escape artist.” You gulped, seeing how intent he was with speaking with you seriously. Every bone in your body was hesitant and afraid of what he might say, you knew him and Gianna broke up shortly after the fight you had with him and your bathroom excursion. She didn’t want to talk about it, and you didn’t particularly want to talk to her. Everytime you two even made eye contact, bile rose in your esophagus and you choked on the stifling shame of how you felt for her ex-boyfriend.

Miguel followed you to his car and had you in the front as you watched everything pass by, thinking about how badly life had crumbled the past few weeks.

Miguel’s hand gripped the steering wheel tighter as he saw you so quiet and upset. He hated this side of you, sad and hurt, but it seemed that this was the only side he brought out of you.

He finally parked after the silent ride and walked around to get the door for you, waiting for you to jump out and also grabbing the door for you as you both entered the coffee shop. You’d never noticed him being a gentleman before, maybe because you’d never even given him the chance.

You sat at a table inside and leaned on the wall beside you, too tired to even sit upright. He stood on the line and ordered coffee for you both, as well as a breakfast sandwich. You stared at his tall frame as he took the seat in front of you and sighed.

“We should get some things out of the way.” He started and you nodded quietly. “I’ll begin with what happened . Your sister and I broke up because she cheated on me and I like you.”

He spoke like this was obvious but your eyes widened in shock.

“She cheated? With who?”

“Some guy in her honors biology class. It wasn’t a big deal, we weren’t that serious and it was only two months.” He shrugged, sipping his black coffee as you milked yours with sugar and cream.

“But still…” You trailed off and bit your lip. You felt his hurt, but he seemed so indifferent that it made you think again and then remember what else he said. “You like me?”

His eyes found yours and he nodded. “I liked you before I knew her, I’ve thought about you since the summer classes started.” He rubbed his thumb across his bottom lip, like he was thinking, and the movement had you mesmerized. “Never knew your name, and when I met Gianna, I liked her because she resembled you, but then I was always around you and I would get angry and bitter because I had gotten so close, yet it wasn’t you.” Miguel rambled, running a hand through his brown hair and sighing in frustration from trying to explain his emotions. You grabbed the hand from his hair before you even realized what you were doing and held it on your own, then dropping it and blushing.

“I uh-”

Without waiting for your response, he grabbed that hand again and held it. You sat in silence for a second and stared at where your bodies now met. “You run through my mind like you have no idea.” his hand brushed yours once more and you realized something.

“You were the one who helped me when I was drunk at Miles’s party.”

“Yeah.” He nodded, smiling a little.

You two sat there for hours, talking and laughing as you shared stories and feelings, as if a weight was lifted from both of your shoulders and you could be open to the other now.

As you threw your head back from laughter to something he said, you heard someone call your name from behind you as you turned and met the eyes of the one person who wouldn’t understand. You both froze, fear chilling the entire area around you all.

“Gianna?”

Tags: @ihateuguys @spontaneousleo @ginger23 @y2cade @alex110370000 @winteringfalls @neverlandlostchild @haileycannotcometothephonern @loser-alert @idk-sam@bunnyrose01 @minalovesyoubabes @thedevax @arquiiva @freehentai @vonev @rue-ting @darkfairy102190 @iamv1n @teresalesbian @killykstudio @topreice @artyanimi@hrlzy @mikotoguilty @ceoofmiguel @jotarossshark @i-want-to-be-your-dreamgirl @arquiiva @loonalockley @spiderwriter2099 @mikotoguilty @scaleniusrm @angel-xx-1 @siidmm @tayleighuh @zaunsin @imheretoread @lazyotakuofficial @callmeurslxt-pls @angelaut0matec @vonev

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#miguel spiderverse #miguel x reader #miguel o’hara smut #miguel o’hara #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel spiderman #miguel smut #miguel o'hara #atsv miguel #angst

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ethicaltreatmentofcowplants · 4 days ago

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Lee is having quite the time of it. A seagull flew all the way inland to leave him a calling card, but he also has the whim to become disliked by Forest. They do say to start with one small, achievable goal…

In a belated fit of teenaged rebellion, Giovanna has decided that not only will she repair just the one sink - but she’s not even going to clean up after herself! What you gonna do about it, huh?

Eventually out of everyone, it’s Lee who takes care of the task. In perhaps a fit of ‘the enemy of my enemy is my friend,’ he’s been buddying up with an earlier victim of Forest’s meanness, Sage, and is even attempting to educate himself on her unlife state.

(Although now that I take a closer look at his face, he may actually be scheming up... something. So far everything he may or may not be plotting has failed out of sheer incompetence, so if I were Sage, I wouldn't be too worried.)

Forest has made a frien - sorry, minion - Baarry White.

LMAO he really said “fan service? Well, here you go!”

After his no good, very bad day, Lee heads upstairs for a nice relaxing bubble bath - only to end up on the verge of hysteria and have the Watcher force him to talk himself down in front of the mirror, lest he join Sage in an unalive state.

Sorry, Sage, you're still on cooking. What's on the menu? Well...

And as the rest of the team gathers around and waits for a totally normal, not suspicious at all dinner, someone’s luck has officially run out.

Not quite sure why you’re laughing, Forest - you didn’t get away with shit, and now your friendship level has made like Ronaldo and taken a dive. Lee meanwhile looks... kind of surprised that someone actually stepped up for him 😥

In spite of Forest being thwarted, there’s an ominous feeling in the air. Lilac’s not quite sure when, nor how, but she has a sense that something is about to go badly wrong - and soon.

Sure enough, Sage lets me know just what she thinks about her chore assignment of the day right there.

At this point I’m thinking that she’d happily let herself burn if it meant that she was off dinner for the rest of the night. Fortunately Tiago and Mister are on the case, and receive both a confident moodlet and their charisma cheated up one level accordingly.

Okay Lilac, once more you’re taking over. Aaaand her fear of fire has returned. Stellar work, Sage 👍

Outside Lee (who was practicing yoga and managed to avoid the fire) is surprisingly supportive of Sage and Giovanna - or at least acting as much - but it’s Mister who receives a hug of gratitude.

Those may look like normal eggs, but as you may have guessed, they’re not.

Why so dubious, Giovanna? This is going to be great.

Negl, I feel kind of bad for Sage here. She is really having a Day. Almost considered cancelling her queue to eat the eggs - almost.

Dig in everyone - the fun is just beginning!

@riverofjazzsims @ravingsockmonkey @fl0pera

@igglemouse @panicsimss @simsfvr

(smol part iii coming soon, fml lol)

#simply lilac #simply lilac round one #lilac moon #forest green by riverofjazzsims #giovanna goth by ravingsockmonkey #lee daniels by fl0pera #mister maxwell by igglemouse #sage graves-vatore by panicsimss #tiago pecholobo by simsfvr #tw: gif #cw: gif #let's go chaos household

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beansricejc · 2 years ago

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JOHN WICK x READER - The Courier

part 3!

[part 1] [part 2]

summary: John’s being a little slut and finds out you’re more dangerous than you let on. More background details of Y/N. You invite him to your base for a few drinks, and John seems to be asking too many questions. In response, you use an unconventional method to make sure he’s not a snitch. John desperately needs to relieve some tension after you finish, so he takes matters into his own hands. Female reader, John x Crime Boss Reader, slow burn, 5500 words.

author’s note: thx for the love! i love writing these, and i really like making the reader (you!) an anti hero. (you’ll see). i would highly recommend reading the first and second part if you’re new here! linked above! lmk what you think! tysm! 💕

warnings: nsfw, organized crime, implied death, violence, alcohol, cursing, sex work, significant age gap, male mast3rbatįön.

A few days have passed since your encounter with John in the Continental, ending with that steamy and tense kiss in the hallway. You had even given him your number. John hadn’t actually texted you yet. His mind was racing with the possibilities between the two of you.

Well, there was you. A young, powerful, self-made crime boss. Or as your employees would say ironically, a girly-pop criminal.

Right.

Of course, there was John, a middle-aged hitman with a dark reputation, even for the criminal underworld. Retroactively feared throughout the industry, there was a general unspoken rule to not fuck with John Wick. That was just common sense at this point.

And here he was, fidgeting with this metal-engraved business card you gave him during that makeout session, so he could keep in touch.

He’s anxious about the feelings he was developing for you. John had kept up with his playboy culture ever since his wife passed, and in his mind, he wasn’t sure if he was ready to give that up.

“Mm, mister Wick, you look awfully distracted.” the escort he had called over to his hotel room to help him relieve some tension he had after his encounter with you.

Her name was Bethany, or Brandi, or something. He didn’t really pay attention. What he did know was that she had excellent hand and blow job skills.

This Brandi chick was right. He was distracted. She’d been trying to get John hard for 15 minutes, and he couldn’t manage. How fucking embarrassing.

John took a peek at your name that's engraved onto the thin piece of metal. Ah, that seemed to do the trick. Blood swam to his shaft, growing his erection, and Brandi smirked a bit.

John’s pride wouldn’t allow him to admit that the sight of your printed name could do such a thing to him.

If anyone were to find out, he would simply die.

It didn’t take long for Brandi to take John into her mouth, stroking what she couldn’t fit with her hands. John closed his eyes, not wanting to establish any emotional connection with the woman to give her the wrong idea. He would simply sit back, and enjoy the pleasure he paid for. Even if the passion wasn’t there, it would have to do.

Meanwhile, you and three other women had a man wrapped in tarp and duct tape in their grasp, shuffling down a long pier towards the body’s destination. The Hudson River. The sheer pollution would eventually eat away at its flesh. A sure fire solution to you and your little problem at the moment.

The four of you grunt, count to 4, and swing the corpse out of your grasp, a splash following the collision to the water.

You sighed, snapping off your latex gloves, feeling your phone vibrate a few times in your pocket. God dammit, what now? You attempted to get rid of the fresh corpse body stench from your nose when you pulled your device out, and seeing a text from an unknown number. It was directed for your personal line, and not your business line. Interesting. That’s when it hit you, in your drunken stupor, you shared a personal business card with the one and only, John Wick.

Of course you did, you moron.

You huff out and click on the bright notification on your screen, opening the app up.

Unknown #: Hey, hope you still remember me. It’s that smoking hot guy from the bar a few days ago. You doin' okay?

You rolled your eyes at what John called himself. The smell of swamp water and bird shit entered your sinuses. Thank god that it successfully replaced the cold, damp, dead body smell. You can hear seagulls caw above your small group of women, heading back to your SUV as if nothing had happened.

Now, you're typing away at your screen to reply to this middle-aged man who had taken two days to even utilize your number.

You pause, raise your eyebrows, and slowly read the message over again. Interesting.

The feeling of his hands around you, squeezing your hips and biting your lower lip. The sensation is teasing your mind, so much so that you block everything else out.

You’ve touched yourself about 5 times since then, and you can’t seem to get this stupid man off of your mind. You craved him. Everything from the glares he shot at you with those dark eyes of his, to the sting of his scruff on your soft cheeks.

“Hey,” one of your employees interrupts your midday fantasy. You jolt slightly, blinking at the taller and muscular woman, she’s been working for you for about a year, her name is Jenny. “You ready, boss?”

You take in another deep breath, more lake smell entering your nose, and you can feel the moisture in the air. Somehow you managed to find a time when no one was even outside. Even if they were, no one asked questions. Mind your own business in this city, and you’ll go a long way.

You nod and climb into the back seat of the truck, get situated, and let your employees handle the rest. The truck starts driving, and here you are again, focused on that damn phone screen.

You grunt.

God dammit.

Y/N: yeah, I remember you, old man.

As if you haven’t been thinking about him since you escaped to your hotel room the other day.

Look at you. Crime lord. Criminal mastermind (sort of). You're a big-time player.

All of that, just to act like a schoolgirl when any guy you’re remotely attracted to gives you some sort of romantic interest.

Classic.

Of course you still knew how to talk to them, charm them, get them wrapped around your finger. That was a piece of cake. But what if one wanted a kiss?

Well, time to skedaddle.

John had just finished onto Brandi’s face, handing her one of the hotel room towels so she can clean herself off. It was a lot, thick and stringy ropes of cum had landed on her cheeks and lips. He was still recovering and catching his breath.

Then he hears his phone vibrate. It’s you.

He smiled. You texted back quicker than he anticipated.

Great, she’s calling me old again. John sighed to himself.

Sometimes he forgets he’s damn near old enough to be her father. Was that.. weird? Maybe he just shouldn’t think about it.

John: alright, girl boss, whatever you say.

John set down his phone and waited patiently for Brandi to finally leave for the night. He slipped her a wad of cash, and she was gone faster than she came.

John can’t get his fucking mind off of you. The number of times he has had his way with you in his head was too many to count on two hands. Does he feel bad about it?

Yeah.

Did he want to stop? No.

He oh so desperately wanted to see what was lurking underneath your clothing. He hasn’t felt this way in a long time.

John was a total slut, don’t get me wrong. A few times a week he’d have different women over. Some were regular hookups, and some were random girls he picked up at the bar or club. If he wasn’t doing a contract, he was definitely balls-deep in some random chick on his couch.

That was just life though. At least for John.

He used to be a romantic, date nights, flowers, gentleman type acts. But now, well, you know already.

John sighed and decided to double-text.

Of course a man his age wouldn’t understand the almost taboo nature of the double text. A rookie mistake some would call it, others would think it’s stupid to look into it that much.

John: u wanna have some drinks with me tonight?

You’re still shocked that John called you a girl boss over text. You’re still staring at your screen, bewildered at the thought.

A girl boss?

No way. Absolutely not, those chicks were always pyramid scheme fanatics that would reach out to you over Facebook to convince you to join their cult company.

That wasn’t you! You were a hard ass. You ran your crew well and knew what you were doing at all times.

But you were a woman.

And a boss.

Oh fuck.

You and the few employees in the truck hop on out. You had driven from that pier back to your warehouse headquarters. This is where the magic happened.

Right on the outskirts of Brooklyn, your enterprise came out of this warehouse. Filled with fast and reliable motorcycles and other expensive toys. There were a few women who were scurrying around to get some deliveries finished before the end of the night. You notice that one of your assistants decided to change the music on the stereo system.

The same assistant, Marissa, hurried over to you, took your bag, and handed you a coconut Redbull. You mumbled the lyrics to an Ice Spice song that was blaring in the warehouse.

The realization hits.

You look up, looking Marissa dead in the face.

“Please. Be real with me.” you speak to her, and she awaits your question. You take a deep breath. It’s the moment of truth. “Am I a girl boss?”

Silence breaks out in the warehouse. Everyone dropped what they were doing to wait to see what your personal assistant would have to say to that. The only thing being heard now is that Ice Spice song.

Oh god. That wasn’t a good sign.

Marissa pressed her lips together, her green eyes shifting around the warehouse.

“I mean, technically speaking, I suppose someone could call you that, you’re not cringe though!” Marissa assured you. Your breath hitched, and your heart felt like it stopped.

How embarrassing.

You swallow your pride in, nod, and shove your hands into your big overall pockets.

“Alright. Alright. Cool.” You nod, pulling your phone out and walking away from the main action, everyone went back to work as if they didn't just eavesdrop on that conversation.

What a fucking question that was.

You look at the last text John sent you and are surprised to see that he asked to have drinks.

You pause, staring at the text message. You know John doesn’t understand the concept of double texting, he was like, 45, or something. Poor guy didn't know any better. You sigh.

“Is Wickathan bothering you again?” your assistant Marissa asked, chuckling over the nickname you made for John.

“He wants to have drinks tonight, but look at me. I would rather smash my head into some bricks than go out tonight, I’m exhausted.” You groan, the feeling of disappointing John hits you right in the chest.

Why are you so worked up about him, bitch?! You ask yourself. You’re too hot to stress yourself out about this.

Marissa gives you a grin.

“Well then invite him here.” Marissa provides an idea for you. You raise your eyebrows, and nod affirmatively.

“I don’t know what I’d do without you.” You tell her, flashing her a grin and quickly texting John back.

Y/N: you wanna just have drinks at HQ?

You liked calling your work headquarters, or HQ to shorten it up. Really made you sound like a secret spy with a base.

Well, you weren’t a spy but it was a base.

Sometimes you forget that you’re running an entire criminal enterprise, the Ice Spice blasting at your self proclaimed headquarters wasn’t helping.

John can only imagine what this headquarters looks like, and is quite intrigued by the idea of having drinks with you there. Now that he’s planning on seeing you tonight, there’s a bad feeling in his stomach.

Does he feel bad about seeing an escort right before meeting up with you? That can’t be it. Can it?

Dammit, John. You’re a bachelor, you can’t be falling for some girl because she’s pretty and powerful. He cursed at himself internally.

His eyes glaze over his reflection in the mirror as he ices his shoulder, which was hit pretty bad by some asshole with a golf club during a job yesterday. It left a very purple bruise and was sore as hell.

He wondered if there was an appeal to his battle scars all over his body. There probably was, right? Whenever he was shirtless in front of a lady, her attention would immediately focus on all of his tattoos and marks on his flesh. Of course, they were stories from a younger and less experienced John.

Sometimes it would even scare them off entirely. But if they got past the tatted-up back and several scars, you could get a glimpse at his toned body. John's not a bodybuilder material by any means, he was lean and in shape, the ideal size for a professional killer.

He was perfect for the job.

John’s mind is racing, he knows you’re dangerous. You built an entire empire in a mere three years, people would kill for your skill and position on the food chain.

It kind of turned him on.

Especially ever since he found your business page, where all of the information for clients was readily available.

John noticed an "As Seen on Tv!" tab on the professional-looking website, he clicked on it out of pure curiosity. He didn’t know what to expect.

It was a YouTube video of a compilation of CCTV footage, showing various car and motorcycle chases. They were cut and spliced into a well edited video that had Industry Baby by Lil Nas X playing in the background.

That couldn’t be you, could it?

Oh, it was. You and various people in your crew who also did deliveries for your company.

John could tell from your figure whenever it was you on screen, and he was particularly shocked from seeing GoPro footage of you.

He sees you jumping out of the window from one moving car to the hood of another, shooting at the driver through the windshield, killing him instantly. Of course, as soon as the bullet was fired from the barrel of your gun, whoever edited the video censored it. John could still see the blurred-out figure slump to the side but was obvious that he was dead. You had even climbed through the shattered glass and took over the driving, shoving the corpse off of the seat as if it were a regular work day.

You and your crew obviously knew what you were doing, that was a fact. Ruthless, violent, and skilled, a dangerous combination for anyone. John noticed that you seemed to be more precise, the difference between you and your other employees was noticeably significant. They were still very impressive nonetheless.

As skilled as you were, you were still an amateur compared to John. He figured you most likely excelled at combat on the road but in a regular circumstance? You probably weren’t as efficient or deadly.

He was right.

“Fucking hell,” John mumbled to himself, it wasn’t anything new to him, but seeing this as an advertisement for their business of a website was… something. That’s for sure.

It was like watching a bunch of kids goofing around and getting it all on tape. Well, that was exactly what it was. A bunch of young women on the screen, and swap out the word goofing with maybe, rampaging?

His eyes were glued to his screen as he watched the video boasting their skill set, even showing a worker and you drifting your expensive bikes down the highway.

And now John's in his car watching the video once again in the parking lot of the warehouse that Y/N had invited him to.

John was pleasantly surprised that this young crime lord had invited him to her home base after only meeting him once.

Well, technically twice.

John hadn’t bothered with his work attire, he had thrown on a pair of nice jeans and a long sleeve black shirt. He even went the extra mile to put on cologne and touched up his beard.

John sighed and exited his car, locking up and sauntering towards the large industrial looking warehouse.

He could hear a plethora of noises from the building, the big garage door was open, and he raised his eyebrows at the image of dozens of women doing advanced mechanical work on modified bikes, or even riding off on said bikes.

John wasn’t sure what to expect but it sure as hell wasn’t this.

Especially with the Latin girl pop that was blaring from the very impressive stereo set up.

Your chop shop was clean, organized, and busy. Extremely busy. John had been squeezed past by about 7 women already who were hard at work.

It was clear that John was a fish out of water, he was quite literally the only man in this warehouse. He wasn’t sure if he liked that or not.

What’s the opposite of a sausage fest? John asked himself.

But where were you? John narrowed his eyes and did his best to find you, which happened to be squatting near a motorcycle that was suffering from some serious curb rash, which you were attempting to fix.

It was a sight that was a complete 180 from the other day at the cocktail party. Compared to the long and elegant black dress, you were now in a crop top and some denim overalls, that looked like it had seen better days.

John had to admit, it was pretty cute. He was used to only flirting and going out with women who were refined, and classy. That's what you displayed the other night.

But after seeing those clips of you online, and seeing you here, he knew that was all a front.

You were feminine for sure, however, you obviously had a masculine energy to your personality. John wasn’t used to that, it was really refreshing.

Before John could, one of your workers had hurried over to you.

“You think I should go hybrid or classic?” One of your modification technicians asked, her name was Marie, and she had worked for you for the past 2 years. You looked up, checking out the pictures on her phone she showed you.

This was a difficult decision. Lashes make or break a woman. The choice of a lifetime really.

“Hybrid, you’ll serve cunt with hybrid for sure.” You answer, and the two of you laugh at the ridiculous statement you just said.

Your attention turned to John, who was about 20 feet behind Marie, who was also trying not to laugh.

“Serving cunt? Do I even want to know?”

That was the first thing John had said to you today. You bursted out laughing, trying your best to contain it. It didn’t work. Marie turned around, and her blue eyes widened at the mere sight of John.

He was intimidating by nature, tall, dark, and mysterious. Now add in his deadly reputation, he could make anyone’s skin crawl with just a glance.

“Holy fuck, you didn’t tell me that Wickathan was coming.” Marie blurted, immediately covering her mouth afterward. Your eyes bulged at her, that name was meant to be an inside joke between everyone in your crew.

Dammit, Marie.

“Oh my god, bitch!” You stage whispered, smacking Marie on her shoulder in disappointment.

Did John hear that right?

“Wickathan?” John repeated, stepping up towards you and your current project. The man was a force to be reckoned with, he towered over you, especially now that you weren’t wearing heels. “Did you come up with that yourself?” He asked. It suddenly became hot in the room, caused by his husky voice that was directed towards you.

You forgot that you had just been staring at him for the past ten seconds, with awkward silence swirling between the two of you. Oof.

“Oh, uh, yeah. I thought it was funny,” you admitted. “I bet the Boogeyman gets fucking old, huh?” you asked, using a mocking tone on the nickname.

John respected your bold attitude.

You could see the way John was looking at you, despite you being a mess from working on bikes all day. His brown eyes trailed up your body and he smiled at seeing you without anything fancy on. He could get used to this.

A woman of many talents? Sign him up.

I might not be a bachelor for long, I better be careful. John thought to himself, smiling down at you.

“Come on, squirt. Let’s have that drink.” John teased, and your face starts to pinken.

Squirt?! What the fuck? You think, stepping from behind the bike, arms crossed while glaring at the menace of a hitman.

“Hey hey, I’m no squirt. What the-"

John interjects by grabbing you by the waist, physically picking you up, and holding you up in the air. You shout at him, and he’s chuckling devilishly at the sight.

Jesus Christ, in front of everyone? I’m their boss! This looks terrible! You’re internally panicking.

“Hey!” You exclaim, attempting to wiggle out of his death grip.

“Oh yeah, you’re a total squirt.” John teased, setting you back down and ruffling your already disheveled head of hair. Your cheeks are beet red, and you grab his forearm and tug him behind you to your private office.

You were a crime boss for fucks sake, is John out of his mind?

John’s laughing at the sight of your much smaller frame guiding him by hand to your office, in fact, he was getting a little excited over it.

Excited would be the understatement of a lifetime.

The sight of your smaller feminine frame compared to his towering large body made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. John shut the door to her office behind him, listening to you sigh and grab two beers out of her fridge.

Interesting. Beer fridge in the office. Respect. John notes.

You handed him a beer but your eyes went straight to his face, on further inspection you noticed a healing black eye and a few new scrapes. Those weren’t there a few days ago. You furrow your eyebrows at him.

There was no way he finished a contract that quickly between seeing you then and now, right?

“Hey, what the hell happened to you?” You ask him, walking closer to him and grazing your dainty fingers over his new wounds. John felt a lump form in his throat.

Oh sweet baby Jesus, she’s so close to me again. Shit! Shit! He’s thinking to himself. John chuckled in an attempt to cover his flustered nature.

“Oh you know, just work. Typical Wednesday for me,” he tells you, he can barely think straight since you’re standing so close to him. You’re wearing that same perfume that you wore when you saw him last, however, it’s overcast by the smell of exhaust and rubber, probably from working in this warehouse all day. “Nothing crazy.”

You rolled your eyes at him and went to go sit on your couch.

“Uh-huh. Who was it this time?” you asked John as he sits fairly close to you on the sofa. Just close enough for his leg to graze your thigh.

John knew exactly what he was doing. A classic playboy tactic, but why did he get this feeling he didn’t want to just hit it and quit it?

John cracked the beer open and read the label. PBR? Unexpected, alright. He couldn’t be mad at that. He took a long sip. Fantastic.

“Ah, some guy that pissed some Cartel member off. The usual.” John sighed, playing back into the couch, stretching his left arm out and laying it on the sofa, coincidentally right behind where you were sitting.

Coincidentally.

This is when John noticed that your couch was purple and velvet. That was some taste you had there. He scanned the room, it was obvious that whoever had this office was a woman in her 20s.

So, you, clearly.

John was shocked that this incredibly feminine office belonged to a crime boss, but he has seen weirder things. But he did have to admit, the office was quite eclectic. Bohemian? What was the word for it? Well, it was something.

“So, how’s work for you? You guys seem awfully busy out there.” John commented as you opened your own beer, his eyes trailing down your body again.

Oh boy. You notice his chest puffing out ever so slightly, god, he was the real deal.

Don’t show weakness, he’s expecting you to fold! Absolutely fucking not! you reaffirm to yourself.

“Pretty good actually. We’re gonna have to do a plate swap on all of the bikes soon though.” You explained, your eyes never leaving his chiseled face.

Shit.

He’s fine as hell.

You stop yourself, you were talking about work. Details about work. Well, not the nitty gritty but, wait a minute.

“Oh? How do you go about that?” John asked, flashing one of those mischievous smirks that he was giving you the other night.

The worst part about it? It fucking worked. His stupid attractive face, those dumb strong hands, his fucking hair that was perfectly styled backward.

He knew it too.

The question he gave you threw you off though. He wants more details on how work is. You raise your eyebrows as your brain goes into panic mode, almost like it’s wired to sense danger or threats.

John can sense that your whole demeanor has changed, long gone was the spunky girl from a minute ago. You were a whole other creature now as you analyzed him, what did he want? Why was he asking questions about your work?

You set your beer down on a side table and sigh.

God dammit.

Whatever, hopefully this would work. Your legs stretch over him until suddenly you’re straddling his lap. John has to cover his mouth to prevent beer from spitting out of his lips, just from pure shock.

“H-hey!” John exclaimed, the feeling of your bottom on his lap and thighs was almost heavenly. Was this seriously happening right now?

You take your hands and wiggle them up his black long-sleeve shirt, in a frantic search for any sort of wires, recording devices, anything really.

But to John, he’s only seeing the attractive young woman feeling him up, her small hands grazing over his lean and muscular torso. They travel to his sides, and then up and down his back, unknowingly tracing over skin that’s covered in tattoos.

Your fingers are making John melt, plus, here you were, only inches from his face. He can’t stop looking at your lips as you’re determined to find anything that would be used to record a conversation.

You’ve lasted this long and built your empire because you were clever, ruthless, but more importantly, cautious.

And here you were, feeling up John fucking Wick to see if he was bugged or not. The most lethal man in the world is centimeters away from you, his hot exhales sticking to your face and neck like sweat.

John can feel his cock grow to the sensation of you straddling him and searching around his body.

John’s heart is pounding, you sigh and take your hands out from underneath his shirt.

Alright, hair it is.

So now, like the little shithead you are, you sit up slightly to dig your fingers through his head of long black locks. Of course, your chest is at eye level with his face, even almost touching it.

“Y/N, w-what are you doing?” John laughed nervously, he wasn’t sure why he was nervous, and his hands were already advancing to your thighs and hips.

What if I just fucked her right here and now on this couch? What I would do to make her scream my name, shit, I want her to ride my cock so bad that she aches for me the next day. John’s mind is screaming with this and other absolutely filthy images.

“Looking for a bug! You keep asking me questions about my job! That is such a federal ass thing to do…” you explain hastily. John’s heart drops. You don’t even notice his hands gripping hard on your hips until he slams you down onto his lap again, snapping you out of your persistent state.

All you can feel pressing up against you is his rock-hard dick.

Oh shit. I’m an idiot.

“You sure do know how to get a man worked up, you know that?” John hisses out. His hand latched onto your small neck, giving it a stern squeeze, you’re too in the moment to even try to move it. He flips you off of his lap, and stands up from the couch, readjusting his clothing and his long hair.

“I’m, uh, going to use the bathroom. Alright?” John asked, you nod, not even putting two and two together since you were so stunned by that move.

Fuck, he sure knows how to manhandle a girl, huh? You silently ask yourself as he quickly leaves the office.

John had to take a few deep breaths once he left the room and shut the door.

“Fuck,” he whispered, all of his instincts are going wild right now. John finds the nearest bathroom in this large warehouse, and locks the door behind him.

If he stayed in that room for another second, he would have absolutely ruined you. John knows damn well you’re no innocent angel, that doesn’t stop him from viewing you as one. As ruthless and dangerous of a woman as you are, he has made up this false sense of purity surrounding your very aura.

John wastes no time in unbuckling his belt and pants, grabbing his thick shaft out of his boxer briefs, and begins to tug. One of the hands that has brought wrath upon so many, now gripping his cock and attempting to relieve himself in a timely manner so he doesn’t raise Y/N's suspicions.

God, she’s way too young for you dude. You shouldn’t be doing this. I bet she’s so tight and wet, oh fuck. John’s mind is racing to the possibilities of what could happen in this bathroom if Y/N was in here with him.

He’s imagining grabbing you by your tiny throat and slamming you against this wall, ripping those overalls off, and throwing them on the floor. He’s so strong that he could lift her up by her thighs against the wall, spread her legs, and thrust right into her tight little cunt.

John’s breath is staggering as he tries to make his grunts and moans as subtle as possible while he pictures himself plowing into you. He’d be torn between being a generous lover or a selfish one.

On one hand, he’s starting to develop feelings for you, his heart flutters when he thinks of your laugh. The way your nose crunches whenever you smile, or the weird slang you use whenever you talk to him.

With all of his hookups after his wife, he never cared too much about making the other women feel good, but he would always succeed.

John was just that good in bed.

You were the exception.

In the very short time he’s had to get to know you, he was starting to catch feelings, and he’s scared of it.

So instead, he's thinking of devouring your pussy and making you cum over, and over again before using you as a hole.

The mere thought of it is enough for John’s knees to tremble as he climaxes, gripping the sink for dear life. He ejaculates into his own hand, his chest rising and falling at a rapid rate, and he met his own reflection in the bathroom mirror.

The mirror shows a half nude John, breathing rapidly, cock in hand, with beads of salty sweat trickling down his damp skin.

Post-nut clarity is hitting in 3, 2, ah. There it is.

John’s mortified at who he sees in front of him, and he cleans up as fast as he possibly can.

What the actual fuck is wrong with me? Am I this much of a perv? Holy shit! John’s internally screaming, zipping up his pants and clearing his throat.

The thought of doing any of those acts with a woman as young as you is, tempting, to say the least.

John closed his eyes and took a deep breath and opened the bathroom door.

He had a drink to finish with you, and he’s praying you didn’t notice how long he was gone.

#john wick #john wick x reader #john wick x you #john wick imagine #keanu reeves #jw4 #jw #john wick x y/n

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quitealotofsodapop · 1 year ago

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"The Monkey King and the Infant" details Part 3 - and likely last for now before I go on Spoiler lockdown so I can write:

links to Part 1 and Part 2:

The Jade Emperor sees/is aware of the canon Monkie Kid series. He thinks the whole situation as a big waste of time. So... remove Monkie Kid = no Monkie Kid series, Monkey King stays retired, and less of a headache for the big man up top. Win win.

The Jade Emperor shows Sun Wukong visions of the worst parts on the series inc; LBD's return, the Samadhi fire being reignited, The Jade Emperor's death and the potential breakdown of the universe etc... This is also how SW learns on accident that Macaque is alive again.

Internally SW is very conflicted cus... the universe might end? But more importantly he might actually die? But also consider; Free Son and a return to his beloved.

Other characters occassionally get tormented by visions of canon events/death omens - likely a side effect of the altered timeline, or the Jade Emperor subtly trying to turn them against one another.

Erlang and various other mythos characters show up. Erlang is tasked with ensuring that SW destroyed MK's egg, but is knocked out by Moksha (on command of Guanyin) to give SW a chance to reconsider. In the egg's place, Erlang found a "shell" of obsidian. This isn't enough to convince Erlang... but it's enough to convince the Jade Emperor and the few members of the Celestial Court who knew about the Egg that the task had been completed. Erlang is sussing SW hard for this... but wants to see what the big deal is with the undercooked Stone Monkey before he says anything.

Moksha is acting as Sun Wukong's parole officer as a "Sorry I bonked you" favor to Erlang. Shows up in glamour at Pigsy's as customer to keep an eye on things. Big shipper under her no-crap cop attitude.

Guanyin herself is Very Against the idea of scrambling MK (Mercy personified yo). But she doesn't appear physically, meaning that not even the Jade Emperor knows that she techincally betrayed Heaven.

Nicknames/familial titles MK calls his fam through out the story:

Sun Wukong = "Dad" "Baba" "Baba Wu" Macaque = "Mom" "Bama" "Baba Mihou" "Mama" (when he was really young) Pigsy = "Dadsy" "Pops" "Boss" (at work) Tang = "Papa Tang" "Pama" (verbal slip as a toddler that stuck) Sandy = "Shúshu/Uncle" Mei = "Meimei" " (little sister - techically she's older but the title is also a pun on her name) Nezha = "Tánggē" "Gege" (grew up thinking Nezha was an older cousin)

When it comes to finally training MK when he comes of age; Sun pulls a "Lego Batman and Bruce Wayne" - hoping that by separating the personas, he'll be able to reach MK better as a teacher. And MK 100% falls for it. Cus "The Monkey King" and his dorky "Dad" are two completely different guys! Right?

Macaque meanwhile has a very different style of teaching:

Macaque, in his series outfit, manifesting from the shadows: "MK, we need to talk about-" MK, battlemode: "AH! THE SIX EARED MACAQUE!" Macaque: "I'M LITERALLY YOUR OWN MOTHER! YOU PUT THAT STAFF DOWN THIS INSTANT MISTER!" MK: "yes sir"

This leads to a funny misunderstanding later on when he sees Macaque and The Monkey King interact during training:

MK: "Wait... if my mom is the Six Eared Macaque... and I've got Monkey King's powers..." MK: *"GASP!"* MK: "MOM!? Did you you cheat on Dad with The Monkey King!?" Macaque: "...really???" SW: *laughing his ass off*

Ok imma punch out and try to finish the first chapter. Will probably post a spotify mix soon. Pls tag or reply, or ask if you got any thoughts/questions. I love feedback!

#the monkey king and the infant #the monkey king and the infant au #lmk #lego monkie kid #lmk s4 spoilers #lmk au #qi xiaotian #sun wukong #six eared macaque #liu er mihou #lmk tang #lmk pigsy #tagging the fic is gonna kill me #my aus

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wheretheharekissesthefox · 11 months ago

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Of demons and monsters - Chapter 2: Accommodate

Astarion can't stop fantasising about finally taking Gale. But, to his utter frustration, the wizard isn't willing. Thus, the vampire spawn's faced with his inner demons and monsters from the past.

(Trigger warning (18+): graphic description of sex, smut, anilingus, anal sex, cunnilingus, consensual blood drinking, body worship, biting, ear kink (kinda), fellatio, fingering, frottage, deepthroating, face-fucking, hand job, thigh fucking, vomiting, watersports, wax play, mentioning of past non-con/rape, character study, talking lots of talking, emotional rollercoaster, respecting boundaries is sexy)

Notes:

To avoid confusion: In one of my other fanfics, Halsin and Tav had named the owlbear cup Naïlo, which means 'night breeze' in the Elven language.)

The rest of the week, Gale was busy with work. Meanwhile, Astarion tried to be useful and productive. He was still unsure what he wanted to do with his newfound freedom. As a former magistrate, he had very specific knowledge, but it was outdated and didn't fit today's politics anymore. Thus, the vampire spawn pondered what else he could do and was talented at. It angered and frustrated him that the only other thing he was good at was seducing people. Astarion was disgusted, he'd never take a job in that line of work. For far too long, he'd been treated like a courtesan by Cazador. The vampire spawn felt like punching something – or causing a bloodbath.

Good-humoured, Shadowheart was walking home from the Selûnite temple. Today had been a calm day without a sudden surge of devotees visiting. Thus, Shadowheart went home earlier than usual. She was humming one of Tav's songs, her long braid swinging behind her back. Her silvery staff with a dark blue sphere on the top didn't just mark her as an authority figure, but could also serve as a trusty weapon. It made a clicking sound every time it connected with the cobblestones as the cleric walked through the streets. When she arrived at home and unlocked the front door, a pungent smell and Astarion's raised voice welcomed her.

"What do you mean 'two cloves are not two bulbs'? I don't see the difference!"

"That's a beginner’s mistake, Mister Ancunin," Tara replied calmly but sternly. "The recipe asks for two cloves of garlic, not two entire bulbs of it."

"How was I supposed to know that?" yelled the addressed.

Shadowheart heard some awful clattering noise and an obscene swearword.

"Please, Mister Ancunin, kicking the kitchen cabinet won't help you," tsked the tressym, unimpressed.

The cleric threw her shoes off and rushed into the kitchen. Astarion stood next to the stove, looking murderous, while Tara sat on a chair nearby like a tired mother who watched her child's temper tantrum. The countertop was a mess. Shadowheart took it all in, stunned.

"First, put the knife down, Astarion, and then tell me what's going on," she greeted him.

The addressed jumped at the sound of her voice and turned around.

"Oh... uhm, hello Shadowheart. I didn't hear you," he replied bashfully and finally let go of the knife. "I was trying to cook, but this stupid recipe isn't telling me the right things!"

He glared at the mentioned book, seconds away from throwing it into the fire, but controlled himself since it belonged to Gale. Shadowheart moved closer.

"What's the problem? Something with the amount of garlic, I heard?"

"Yes," nodded Tara. "Mister Ancunin added two bulbs of garlic instead of two cloves. The soup's ruined and burns my nostrils! Phew!"

"I didn't know the difference," Astarion gritted out. "I've never cooked before. I never had to and now... well.... It's not necessary anymore. I can't even taste test the soup to try and fix it because I'd vomit immediately."

He looked crushed and Shadowheart had mercy on him. With a deep sigh, she grabbed a spoon and moved to the stove.

"Let me try it for you."

Astarion looked at her, surprised and wide-eyed.

"It – It might be really bad," he warned.

Shadowheart shrugged nonchalantly.

"Curiosity killed the cat."

She dunked the spoon into the simmering dish that smelled truly pungently of garlic, and put it in her mouth. Astarion and Tara watched her with bathed breath. Shadowheart grimaced and started coughing.

"Damn, Astarion! You could kill an entire legion of vampires with this thing!"

"Is it that bad?" he asked saddened.

"I told you to toss it out," Tara scolded him.

"No! No, we can fix it," intervened the cleric. "Just let me think for a second."

Excitedly, Astarion grabbed her arm, eyes sparkling with joy.

"Really? You think so?"

She nodded and a wide, happy smile spread over the vampire spawn's face. Tara, on the other hand, sighed deeply.

"What do you have in mind, Miss Hollowleaf?"

"Well... I'm not the best at cooking, but... we could use cream to mellow the strong garlic flavour and then, instead of making a soup, we could boil it down to a sauce in which we can toss some noodles."

"That sounds amazing!" cheered Astarion. "You're a lifesaver."

He hugged the cleric who was surprised about the vampire spawn's affectionate touch. He rarely did it. Smiling, she leaned into it and, because it felt right, even kissed his cheek. Astarion blinked at her dumbstruck. Shadowheart grinned at him.

"Come on, let's fix your dish."

With a groan, Gale closed the door behind him and leaned against it. He was tired. His pupils had been awful today: forgot their homework, talked during the lectures, almost burned the class room down because they'd ignored his warnings...

Why am I doing this to myself? Gale wondered. I should be a private tutor instead.

"Mister Dekarios!" Tara came running happily. "It's so good to see you. I've missed you."

The addressed chuckled and bent down to lift her up for snuggles.

"I saw you just this morning, my dearest Tara, and you've praised my cooking. – Apropos cooking, why do I smell garlic? It's rather pungent."

Tara sighed, long-sufferingly.

"Your lover cooked for you and made a terrible mistake."

"Tav? But she's rather good at cooking. Did she try garlic bread, or something?"

The tressym placed her front paws on his chest and looked up at the wizard.

"No, my dear Gale, it's Mister Ancunin."

The addressed's eyes widened, surprised and in disbelief.

"But... he doesn't know how to cook and doesn't need to. Why would he go to such lengths –"

"For you, silly," Tara snickered. "He wants to please you desperately."

"Oh..."

Gale was speechless. His heart thumped in his chest and he welled up a bit. His oldest friend rubbed her head against his clean-shaven chin, purring.

"Say hello to him. Shadowheart helped him save the mess."

The wizard huffed a laugh, placed Tara on the floor, and walked into the kitchen. Astarion, Shadowheart and Tav stood next to the stove, staring into the pot. Gale observed them quietly before making himself known.

"Hello, my dears. It smells delicious. A little tressym told me that a certain vampire spawn cooked his first meal and that a lovely cleric helped him."

The other three turned around and smiled at him.

"That's correct, darling. I wanted to do something nice for you," Astarion replied.

"It smells so damn good!" sighed Tav, salivating.

"You're in luck," snickered Shadowheart. "Dinner's ready."

She handed them their plates and they sat down to eat. Astarion fed Tara, Scratch and Naïlo before joining and observing the others anxiously. Gale rolled the thick noodles around his fork and elegantly brought them to his mouth. He closed his eyes as he chewed, savouring the flavours.

"Holy shit! It's so good!" exclaimed Tav. "You outdid yourself. That's so incredibly tasty!"

"Really?" asked Astarion, still anxious.

Shadowheart nodded and answered, with her mouth full: "It was a great idea to add cream. It mellowed everything out and the noodles soak up the flavours perfectly. We've created a masterpiece."

Now, everyone turned towards Gale who was still chewing his first mouthful. He finally swallowed and licked his lips.

"It's delicious," he said and the vampire spawn and the cleric breathed a sigh of relief. "The garlic flavour's strong, but pairs perfectly well with the cream, the pepper, and the pork belly chunks. Do I also taste a hint of nutmeg? And I believe there's chives."

Astarion nodded and the wizard smiled at him. When he rolled up his fork again, he added teasingly: "Whoever made the noodles needs more practice though. They're awfully thick."

Astarion grinned devilishly.

"It told you to let me do it. My knife skills are much better than yours."

"Shut up," grumbled Shadowheart, no heat behind her words, and shovelled more food into her mouth.

"I'm impressed," remarked Tav. " For this being your first time, you cooked incredibly well. Thank you, loves, for this absolutely tasty meal."

She kissed Astarion and Shadowheart.

"You smell like garlic," grumbled the latter.

"That's the point of a garlic sauce, and by the way, so do you, you silly goose," snickered the bard.

After dinner and when he was ready for bed, Gale pulled Astarion into a passionate kiss.

"Thank you for cooking. I appreciate it. It was delicious. One question though... Isn't it uhm... 'counterproductive' when I smell like garlic? I mean you're a vampire and all that."

Astarion chuckled, replying: "The garlic thing's a myth and holds no power over me."

He leaned up to kiss the wizard again. Then, he whispered against his lips: "Also, I don't mind when you smell like garlic. I'm fine with that."

"Hm, good to know," smiled Gale. "That means I can kiss you some more."

"You've already brushed your teeth, darling."

"That's not the point. I was seriously concerned when Tav kissed you during dinner. I thought you're going to melt or burst into flames or something to that effect. But I'm glad I was wrong."

He connected their lips again softly.

"Let's go to bed. I'm exhausted."

"Mhm, you do that, darling. Meanwhile, I'll go find a lovely meal on the streets. I'll join you later."

With one last kiss, Astarion left the house and Gale made his way to the bedroom. Tav already lay in their big, spacious bed, waving him closer.

One year into their relationship, Shadowheart, amid tears, had confessed that she couldn't sleep well when sharing a bed. Instead of judgement, she'd received sympathy. They'd bought a single bed for her and had moved it into the corner between the wall and some of their chest of drawers. Shadowheart didn't mind sleeping in the same room as others, but she needed space to get a refreshing good night's sleep. Which she required as a high priestess of Selûne who should radiate calmness and patience. Shadowheart still snuggled with the others in the big bed, but moved over to her own to sleep through the night.

Tonight, she already rested in her bed, dog-tired. Gale felt as worn-out as the cleric looked and face-planted into the bed.

"My students will be the death of me," he groaned. "It's exhausting to look after them so that they don't accidentally kill themselves."

Tav snickered and smooched him.

"Well then, goodnight and sleep well, love," she smiled.

With a hum, Gale kissed her forehead before collapsing onto the mattress and falling asleep shortly after. He didn't even register when Astarion joined them in bed.

Gale had the Fridays and weekends off, but they were often occupied by marking his pupils' essays and homework, or by preparing lectures and papers. Thus, the wizard was happy when he'd finished everything on Friday night. Contently, he leaned back in his chair and stretched his stiff limbs. He'd definitely overworked himself this week, not just because of his students but also because he'd done some private research.

Gale couldn't forget his conversation with Astarion regarding the latter's bedroom activity fantasies. But no matter how much he tried to convince himself that he could do it, the thought of being taken that way, filled him with so much discomfort, anxiety, and actual fear that he couldn't bring himself to do it. But there were other ways to accommodate his lover. Hopefully, it was enough.

Gale stood up, mind set on his mission, and took a bath. He washed himself thoroughly, dried off, and dressed in his favourite robe. Then, he went looking for his lover. He found Astarion in the living room, surrounded by the animals, reading a cookbook.

"So... 'simmering' means cooking something at a very low temperature, right?"

"Exactly, Mister Ancunin," purred Tara.

"I know what 'season to taste' means, but how should I do that without being able to actually taste the food?"

"Hmm... maybe follow every step except this one, and then let someone else taste and additionally season the dish for you, like Shadowheart did."

"That's probably the best idea," nodded the vampire spawn.

"Busy learning new things I see," smiled Gale and entered the room.

Scratch wagged his tail sleepily and Naïlo hooted as a greeting. Gale gave them some well-deserved affection.

"One's never too old to learn new things," replied Astarion. "I'm still figuring out what I'll do with myself now. I can't just vegetate in our home for the rest of my life. I want to pull my weight and do something useful with which I can earn some money. I can't work as a magistrate anymore though... The job was rather tedious anyway and it led up to the entire tragedy that is my life."

"You're rather talented at sewing and you have a very tasteful sense of fashion," Gale told him. "You'd make an excellent tailor."

"Maybe," muttered Astarion, lost in thought.

The wizard observed him for a bit before he said: "You seem busy and in a brooding state. I'll leave you be and come by later."

"No, it's fine," retorted the vampire spawn and looked up at him. "You're here, that means you'd like to tell me something. Go on, darling."

Gale licked his lips, confidence wavering.

"I uhm... I thought you might like to take this elsewhere. Your bedroom for example."

It immediately clicked in his lover's head and a grin spread over his face.

"I'd love to, darling," purred the vampire spawn. "I was waiting all week to have you. You always sleep like a log nowadays, because of your bratty students."

He pulled the wizard into a passionate kiss and then led him downstairs to his room. They immediately started to strip while Gale revealed: "I did some research and made some interesting discoveries."

"And you'd like to try them out? Oh, darling, I like that kind of research. You should do it more often," smirked Astarion.

Gale blushed a bit, cleared his throat, and smiled bashfully. They kissed, running their hands over each other's skin, and blindly stumbled towards the bed. Astarion brought the wizard under him, leaving biting kisses on his neck, and rubbed up against him. The wizard sighed and stroke his lover's pointy ears who shivered and moaned at the touch. Astarion bit down on his neck, not even drinking his blood, just burying his fangs in him. Gale groaned, his eyelids fluttered. There was something so intimate and erotic about being bitten – and fed on. He rolled his hips up into the vampire spawn, almost bucking the latter off. Astarion chuckled.

"Eager, are we?" He licked Gale's Adam's apple. "Let me taste you."

The wizard was surprised when his lover started kissing a trail down his torso instead of biting him again to feed. It seemed like he wanted to taste something else than blood.

"You should be the one on the receiving end," Gale panted. "I have some interesting things to share with you."

"Later," the vampire spawn told him and started to suck him off.

The wizard bit his lips and moaned lowly, running his fingers through his lover's hair. The latter pulled back with an obscene slurp and sat up. The hungry look on his face made Gale swallow nervously. Suddenly, something seemed to snap in Astarion.

"Turn around. Now," he growled and before the wizard had the chance to do anything, he was flipped onto his stomach. Astarion was immediately on him, kissing his back, licking down his spine, and biting his left buttcheek. Gale let out a little undignified squeak of shock at the uncharacteristic rough treatment and manhandling.

"Up on your knees."

The wizard was so shocked and confused about the situation that he complied. Astarion growled again, then, he spread his lover's cheeks and licked across his hole. Gale gasped, gripped by sudden fear.

"No."

He whined when the vampire spawn buried his tongue in him demandingly, opening him up.

"Astarion..."

The addressed grunted and drew back, only to push two well-oiled fingers into him and plunge his tongue right back in between them. Gale cried out when the vampire spawn stroke his prostate. It felt good, but the undoubtably soon-coming next step made him tremble in fear.

"No, Astarion, please stop."

The wizard sobbed. His mind unhelpfully already providing images of the further events. The tears spilled over and he turned his face into the bedsheets to stifle another sob.

"Astarion!" he cried in a panic. "No! Please stop! Please..."

The addressed suddenly drew back with a gasp and Gale dropped onto the bed with another sob. All his strength had suddenly left him.

"Shit," he heard Astarion pant. "Shit!"

The vampire spawn moved and rolled Gale onto his side to look at him. The latter's vision was blurry with tears as he gazed up at his lover who seemed almost as shocked and anxious as him.

"I can't, I'm sorry," Gale cried. "I really want to give this to you, but I can't."

"No, don't apologise. I pushed you despite knowing I shouldn't. I - I ignored your boundaries, your words. I'm truly sorry. I'll never do it again, I promise." Astarion looked angry. Not at him, Gale realised, but at himself. "Can I... can I touch you?"

The wizard nodded and utter relief showed on his lover's face. The vampire spawn lay down next to him and pulled him into a hug. Gale went willingly, with a deep sigh. Astarion kissed his forehead, holding him tight.

"I'm sorry," he whispered again. "I behaved like a monster."

"No. You stopped."

"Yes, but too late."

"It's – it's alright. You didn't go any further."

"But I thought about it." Now, Astarion tensed, angrily screwing his eyes shut and turning his head away. "I heard your pleas and despite of it, I seriously thought about shoving my dick into you and fucking you without your consent. – I'm so disgusting."

Astarion pressed the heels of his palms into his eye sockets and made an angry noise.

"I hate myself for it. – Gods, I'm acting like the monster I swore never to become!"

He gulped in some air, trembling.

"I think I'm going to be sick."

And before Gale could say or do anything, Astarion shot up from the bed, stumbled over to his washbasin and vomited into the porcelain bowl. His retching almost turned Gale's stomach as well. He quickly placed a hand on his queasy belly and mumbled a spell to ease the rising nausea . Then, he got up and rushed over to his lover who was still panting and dry heaving. He was hyperventilating, Gale realised. He placed a hand on Astarion's back and muttered a spell to calm him down and ease the nausea. The reaction was immediate. The vampire spawn relaxed, stopped gagging, and his breathing slowed.

"Thank you," he whispered.

Gale hummed and recited another spell to clean up the literal bloody mess. Then, he wrapped his arms around his lover.

"Sh, sh, it's alright, dear. I'm here and I won't leave," the wizard promised.

Astarion sobbed and pressed his face into Gale's shoulder, digging his fingers into him.

"I'm sorry. Please, forgive me, I beg you."

Gale kissed his temple and answered: "You don't have to beg. I'm still here, aren't I, and I promise you that I won't go as long as you want me around."

Astarion nodded, pressing himself even closer to the wizard, and the latter remembered what Astarion had told him.

'I want to crawl inside of you.'

Such simple words with such a heavy implication.

"I think it's best if we go to bed and rest," Gale said softly, and Astarion nodded again silently.

They lay down on the bed, tightly entangled. The wizard extinguished all the candles except for one and closed his eyes. He was almost asleep when he heard Astarion whisper pleadingly: "Please, don't hate me for what I've done."

"I could never hate you," mumbled Gale before sleep overpowered him for real.

When Gale awoke the next morning and blearily opened his eyes, Astarion was watching him with an unreadable expression.

"Morning, dear," mumbled the wizard. "May I kiss you?"

Relief showed on the vampire spawn's face and he nodded eagerly. Smiling sleepily, Gale placed a hand on his lover's cheek and his lips on his.

"How are you feeling?" he asked.

The addressed shrugged.

"I'm still disgusted with myself."

"Don't be," Gale told him and kissed him again.

Astarion drew back and wanted to know: "How can you still love me?"

"Because I do," answered the wizard simply. "It's not like I can get rid of my feelings for you just because you've done something I don't approve of."

The vampire spawn chewed on his lower lip, asking: "Do you want to get rid of them? Your feelings I mean."

"No. I love you and nothing can changed that. I told you before."

Astarion bit his lip harder, frowning, until a small rivulet of blood dripped down his chin. Gale wiped it off gently, but his lover shied away from his touch.

"You said you'd still love me if I hurt you, but I don't want you to. If I'll ever hurt you in any shape or form, draw too much blood or force myself onto you, I want you to hate me. I want you to kill me. Show me no mercy if I'll become a monster like Cazador. Obliterate me like the grand wizard you are."

Gale's eyes widened and he shook his head vehemently.

"No! I could never." He gripped Astarion's arm to hold him closer as the latter tried to lean away further. "Please don't ask me to do such an unspeakable thing."

Astarion glared at him, baring his fangs.

"You all respect my boundaries. You never touch me without asking first. For years, you didn't touch my scars because it made me uncomfortable. I have so many boundaries, so many no-goes, and you just accept them. You, on the other hand, have one simple wish: to not be taken anally. And I am disgustingly upset about it. I tried to push your limit multiple times without taking into consideration how you feel about it! Like a selfish, wretched monster! What if I lose control for real? What if I rape you? What if I seriously hurt you, Tav, Shadowheart, or Halsin? What if I drain them dry, eh? Would you still love me?"

"I'm not afraid of you, Astarion," Gale snapped back. "I know who you are and what you are and I trust you. I know my lovers, my spouses. Bloody hells, I know my husband!"

At that, the vampire spawn stilled.

"Your husband," he mumbled, absentmindedly touching the silvery family sigil ring. A four-pointed star: Dekarios. His wedding ring.

"Yes," Gale said softly and stroke his cheek. "My husband Astarion Ancunin Dekarios. And my wife, Tav Sionnach Ancunin Dekarios. The loves of my life."

The vampire spawn blinked away tears, huffing a watery laugh.

"We're married," he sniffed, still in disbelief, and Gale smiled at him.

"We are, my dear."

He kissed him softly, left hand straying upwards to caress the pale elf's pointy ear. Astarion sighed and leaned into the touch.

"I still can't believe that not one but two people decided to love and marry me. I come with so much baggage. Why would you want someone who's broken like me?"

"Stop it. You're not broken," the wizard told him sternly. "You're traumatised and working your way through it. And I'm proud of you. We all are."

Astarion closed his eyes, leaning his head against Gale's shoulder. An ugly sob clawed its way out of his throat.

"I love you," he whispered, clinging to his lover.

The latter kissed his ear and stroke his back.

"I love you too. – Now, stop hurting yourself. Please."

Astarion nodded silently and Gale placed a gentle kiss on his cheek. The vampire spawn sighed, wrapping his arms around his husband, and breathed in the calming scent of lavender that lingered on the wizard's skin, hair, and clothes. Some things would never change. Astarion smiled softly. He drew back to look at Gale and leaned in to ravish his mouth. The latter moaned lowly and gave him a demonstration of his talented tongue. Gods, it made Astarion weak in the knees to think about what that tongue was capable of. The vampire spawn sunk his fingers into Gale's chest-length mane, marvelling at its softness once more. While moaning into his lover's mouth, the vampire spawn moved into his lap, searching for friction. The wizard gasped and wrapped a hand around them both.

"Yes," panted Astarion, bucking into the offered grip.

But Gale eased him back with his other hand against his chest and looked at him.

"Wait," he panted. "I have something better to offer. As I told you, I read up on some things."

"You're a walking, talking cyclopaedia. I don't think you'd need to read more," Astarion teased lightly.

Gale didn't take the bait and chuckled instead.

"Well, this wasn't my usual topic. I had to dig a little until I found what I've been looking for."

Now, the vampire spawn's curiosity got the better of him.

"Really? On what exactly did you read up on?"

Instead of answering, Gale lifted his hand, uttered a spell, and slid his glowing hand down his own throat. Astarion raised an eyebrow.

"I don't think you need a spell to be more talkative. You're annoying enough as you are, darling."

Gale shook his head with an amused snort.

"It's not for talking. I can't give you what you want, but there might be something I can do that feels similarly good."

"And what's that?" asked Astarion curiously.

Gale blushed and cleared his throat awkwardly.

"The spell... It uhm... It completely removes one's gag reflex – and more."

Astarion's eyes widened in surprise.

"You want me to fuck your face?" he blurted out.

"No, my throat," muttered the wizard.

The vampire spawn suddenly felt dizzy.

"Oh... Oh, darling, I'd love that. If you're willing."

Gale swallowed thickly but nodded. He lay down on the bed and Astarion straddled his chest.

"You should - You should face the other way," the wizard told him, shyly. "I read that it feels better that way because –" He had to lower his gaze. "– because you can go deeper. It'll feel more like you're taking my uhm... you know."

Gale was incredibly uncomfortable to spell it out and Astarion had mercy on him. He leaned down to place a gentle kiss on his lover's lips.

"I'd love to try it."

He turned around, facing the foot of the bed instead of the headboard and slowly lowered himself down.

"Tap my leg if it's too much," he instructed the wizard who hummed.

Astarion took a deep breath, positioned his arms on the mattress at Gale's sides and bent his knees further. He bit his lips and moaned lowly when Gale took him in his mouth. Carefully, the vampire spawn rolled his hips forwards, sliding his cock down his lover's throat. When he went pass his uvula, Gale moaned instead of gagged, and Astarion's eyes rolled back.

"Oh, shit!" he groaned. "It feels so good."

Gale seemed pleased, gently stroking his thighs. The vampire spawn kept pushing forward and down the willing throat until Gale's lips touched his pubic bone. He moaned loudly, hips stuttering. The wizard's throat was tight, hot and soft – just like Astarion pictured his ass to be.

"Fuck," he groaned. "Oh, fuck... Gale…"

The addressed hummed around him, the vibration zapping through the vampire spawn like lightning. He whined and something snapped in him. He drew back, only to thrust in again, desperate to feel that tight clutch around him. Blissfully, Astarion threw his head back and started to fuck Gale's throat for real. He shoved his hips into him over and over again until he moaned with every exhale. His eyes rolled back in his head again and he closed his eyes.

"Yes," he groaned and climaxed with a blissful cry.

Gale's throat worked around him, swallowing his load. Astarion moaned and lost another flood. Slowly, he pulled out and gasped when his member slipped past his lover's soft lips. He had just enough strength left to turn around before he collapsed.

"Gods, darling... That was... I've never experienced anything like this before."

"Hmm." Gale smiled pleased, stroking Astarion's hair. "According to your reaction, my research was a success. – There's more by the way."

"Really?" The vampire spawn gazed at him, still drunk on his orgasm and terribly aroused. "Care to share?"

The wizard smirked smugly.

"But, you know, listening to my garrulous explanations and monologues is rather tedious. I wouldn't want to bore you."

Astarion snickered.

"Truer words have never been spoken. But still; tell me everything you learned while doing research, darling."

"Well..." Gale turned a bit to make better eye contact. "As you can probably imagine, there's endless literature on sexual practices, but I obviously looked for specific things that might please you. One starting point was your affinity for the differences in our body temperatures and I found some rather uhm... 'unconventional' methods. The first involves candles, or better said melted candle wax. It's easily explained and very forward: Light a candle, let the wax melt and drip onto your partner's body. It'll bring them excitement and pleasure."

"Sounds... interesting."

"Would you like to try it?"

When Astarion nodded, Gale stretched out his hand with a whispered spell and the candle on the nightstand flew over. He lit it with another spell and Astarion watched the calm flame with bated breath. There was some undiagnosable anxiety stirring in his belly, but he ignored it. Gale locked eyes with him.

"Are you ready?"

Astarion nodded.

"Are you sure you want to try this? You don't have to."

"I want to," replied the vampire spawn determinedly.

The wizard nodded, shifted his attention to the candle, and tilted it sideways. A small dollop of melted wax dropped onto Astarion's solar plexus and he gasped in shock. It was hot on his cold, undead skin, but didn't truly hurt. When the wax first hit his skin, there was a quick moment of pain which immediately fizzled out into a prickling feeling.

"Alright?" Gale asked, always checking in on him.

Astarion was almost at the verge of tears again. His lovers were always so attentive and respectful, and he'd almost screwed it up.

"Yes," he whispered. "Do it again."

Gale moved the candle slightly upwards and the next puddle of wax hit Astarion's sternum. The vampire spawn gasped again, shivering at the heat of it. He moaned when the wax hit his skin for the third time.

"Do you want me to keep going?"

"Yes. Gods, just... give me more," panted Astarion.

The wizard hummed and carefully continued his work. The vampire spawn trembled beneath him, gasping or moaning each time the hot, melted wax hit his skin. Gale painted a random pattern, dripping the white wax all over his lover's torso. He left out certain areas, like the areolas and the belly button because they're too sensitive for it. Astarion revelled under the attention even though it wasn't his favourite thing. Suddenly, a stupid idea popped into his head, he still voiced it.

"Drip it on my dick."

"That's a terrible idea. That'll seriously burn you."

"Just do it. You can heal me afterwards."

"If you wish," muttered Gale and did as he was told.

When the hot wax hit the tip of Astarion's penis and started flowing down along his length, his mouth fell open in a guttural moan and his eyes rolled back in his head.

"Mmmh...oh, fuck..."

"It hurts, doesn't it?" the wizard stated worried.

"Yes, but no. In a way, but it also feels... good," groaned the vampire spawn, his member twitching as the wax started to cool and harden. "It - it's difficult to describe. Do it again."

"Astarion, I don't think that's –"

"Again. Please."

With a sigh, Gale complied. A string of hot wax drizzled over the tip of the penis again, slightly pooling in the slit before running down. The vampire spawn whined and bucked up. It felt so painfully good. Gale stared at him.

"You're getting... hard?" he asked in disbelief.

All Astarion could do was whimper and his member twitched in excitement. His eyes rolled back in his head again when wax hit his erection a third time.

"Oooh Gods!"

He trembled, surprised about teetering at the edge already again.

"I'm going to –"

His sentence ended in a shout as more hot wax dribbled over his length. His mouth fell open in a silent cry and his seeds spilled over, pushing the hardening wax away from the tip. The feeling had him moaning again.

"Most fascinating," mumbled Gale. "I didn't think you could come from this."

"Me neither," panted Astarion with a chuckle.

Gale's unfocused gaze wandered over his lover's wax-littered torso, lost in thought.

"Since your body's colder than a living being’s, you're more sensitive to heat, but only when it's in contact with your skin, not the temperature around you. You don't react this way to the summer heat."

"You're a genius," teased the vampire spawn. "I'm undead, darling. The weather conditions don't bother me, I neither sweat nor freeze."

"I know, but it's a rather peculiar phenomenon," muttered the wizard.

Astarion smirked, petting his husband's hair.

"Can you please focus on our bedroom activities again, darling?"

The addressed blinked and looked up.

"Of course. Apologies."

Gale kissed him gently, then, the vampire spawn smirked.

"Has your research provided you with more methods?"

"Yes, but..." The wizard blushed, averting his gaze. "I doubt you'll enjoy it. It's a rather unconventional, disgusting practice. I don't even want to tell you about it."

Astarion was intrigued by the mysteriousness.

"Do tell."

Gale swallowed and licked his lips.

"Well... it's uh... You like it when I... you know."

The vampire spawn raised an eyebrow questioningly and the wizard wanted to hide somewhere in embarrassment.

"You like it when I spill into you," he finally got out, turning crimson. "But no matter if I use a spell or not, the amount will never be enough to satisfy you. The method I found is... well... one empties one's bladder into one's partner."

Astarion's eyes widened.

"What?" he whispered.

Gale ducked and tried to hide in the sheets.

"It's disgusting, I know. I didn't want to tell you anyway."

"Wait, wait..." The vampire spawn's head was spinning. "You're telling me people pee into their partners?!"

"Yes," mumbled Gale into the blanket.

Astarion blinked, staring at the ceiling. How would that feel like? Being filled with a gush of hot urine. Disgusting, no question, but also... Astarion licked his lips. It would be incredibly warm and much more than a load of semen. He was surprised when a shiver ran down his spine and his member twitched at the thought.

"We could try it," he said lowly.

Gale stared at him in disbelief and suddenly, Astarion felt self-conscious and embarrassed.

"Are you sure? Do you really want to try?"

Biting his lip, the vampire spawn nodded. He would have blushed if that had been physical possible.

"If it's your wish, we can try," Gale told him. "Do you want to do it now?"

Astarion nodded hastily and pulled him into a sloppy kiss. Then, he asked: "Can you though?"

The wizard huffed a laugh, flustered.

"Well, it's morning and I haven't used the privy yet, so... my bladder's rather full."

"Let's do it then," the vampire spawn told him, sounding more confident than he was.

To his utter relief, Gale nodded and replied: "We better do this on the floor. It'll be messy."

Astarion attempted to stumble out of bed, but his lover held him back.

"Let me prepare you first," he said and placed a kiss on his cheek.

The wizard uttered a spell and the candle wax vanished from Astarion's body. The latter was thankful for it because the hardening wax was starting to tug uncomfortably on his skin when he moved. The vampire spawn handed him the lubricant and Gale carefully but efficiently opened him up with his fingers. The vampire spawn sighed and moaned at the gentle treatment. When the wizard finally deemed him ready, he retracted his fingers and placed a kiss on Astarion's erection. The latter rolled out of bed and got down on all fourth. He was so aroused and needy that he didn't feel ashamed anymore. Gale moved closer, pumping himself to full hardness, and positioned himself behind his lover. He bent down and kissed Astarion's tailbone.

"Are you sure you want to do this?"

"Yes," breathed the addressed.

"Ready?"

The vampire spawn nodded, biting his lips in anticipation. Gale kissed his scars first and only then pulled back to push into him. Astarion moaned lowly, closing his eyes blissfully. He loved to be filled by the wizard's cock who had the perfect length and girth. Gale started to move, leisurely thrusting into his partner, hitting his prostate every time. Other than usual, he didn't lean over the vampire spawn but kneeled with a straight back, watching how his member moved in and out of his lover's cold, greedy hole. Moaning lowly, the wizard grabbed onto Astarion's hips to hold him tight.

"Do you – Do you really want this?" he panted. "You have to tell me now, I can't stop later."

"Do it," moaned the vampire spawn. "I want to feel your heat inside me, please."

With a grunt, Gale bottomed out and climaxed, spilling into him, with his head thrown back. Astarion moaned, glutes flexing and trying to milk him dry. The wizard took a deep breath, let go, and started to pee into his lover. Astarion's eyes went wide when the hot urine flooded his cold body. His mouth dropped open in a loud, guttural cry, his eyes rolled back in his head, and he spilled his release onto the floor while the stream of liquid didn't seem to end. His body shook at the sudden warm rush, and he moaned and moaned, as he ass pulsed around Gale's cock.

"Yes... fuck..."

He felt his insides fill up for the first time in over two centuries (from the wrong end, but still), all hot, and so, so much. His eyes rolled again as he kept moaning and drooling onto the floor. Gale slowly rocked into him even though he wasn't hard anymore. Astarion felt the liquid slush around inside him and slightly trickle out and down his thighs, leaving hot traces behind. Whining, he flexed his glutes, hoping to keep as much as possible inside him. Gale moaned lowly at the movement and slowly pulled out. More urine gushed out and down Astarion legs who moaned at the feeling. He hadn't even known that such an act was possible – or practiced. For the first time in centuries, his body felt warm. He could die happy now.

Gale tenderly caressed his buttocks and asked: "How are you feeling?"

"Fantastic," slurred the vampire spawn. "It’s so warm and I'm so... full. Gods..."

"So... it's... good?"

"More than," Astarion moaned.

The wizard brought a hand around him, running it over his belly. Then, he gently pulled Astarion backwards until he was kneeling. The vampire spawn whined when more of the urine gushed out of him and soaked the floor under him, warm and wet.

"Oooh... shit..." he sobbed and trembled.

With a hum, Gale wrapped his arms around him and kissed his husband's neck while he stroke his gaunt belly.

"Are you warm now, Astarion?" he whispered. "Do you feel alive?"

"Yes," the addressed groaned, leaning more into his lover.

Gale chuckled and littered his neck with kisses. Astarion sighed, happy and sated. He had never felt this way before. They dwelled like this for a while, kneeling and embracing, with Gale kissing the vampire spawn's neck and caressing his abdomen while the latter rested his head against the wizard's shoulder. When the liquids started to cool and feel itchy on his skin, Astarion started to wiggle around uncomfortably. Gale cleaned them up with a spell, including the floor, and, instead of sex and urine, the room smelled faintly of lavender. Astarion sighed, turned his head and met Gale for a sweet kiss.

"Thank you for indulging me and my perversions."

"Anything for you."

They kissed again, then, they got up to move back to the bed.

"Oof, my knees are killing me," groaned the wizard and the vampire spawn snickered.

They lay down and cuddled close together. Smiling, Astarion brushed his fingers along Gale's clean-shaven jaw.

"You're getting old, my love."

The wizard stared at him wide-eyed.

"You never call me that before," he whispered and the vampire spawn frowned, concerned.

"I never called you what? Old?"

"My love."

"Oh..." Astarion blinked, surprised. "But, you are. You are my love."

"Astarion..." Gale was at the verge of tears and he hugged his husband.

"You know..." The vampire spawn looked at him. "For almost two centuries, I had to lure young, pretty things back to my master. What I wanted and felt never mattered. And now that I finally have a choice, I realised that I don't like young, pretty things. – Don't get me wrong, I am vain." He smirked a bit. "But my definition of beauty is different than Cazador's. The eye of the beholder and all that."

Astarion stroke Gale's hair, smiling softly.

"You're beautiful. The crow's feet and the lines on your forehead that get deeper with each year that passes. Your majestic hair that's turning more and more grey. Your body that finally gets softer again. I can't wait until you have a pudgy little belly and love handles."

At that, Gale snorted a laugh, but kept quiet otherwise.

"I love that you're growing out your hair. It suits you."

"Well, it's better than a beard," the wizard replied and, with a chuckle, he added: "Tara would be furious if I'd stop shaving again."

"And rightfully so," grinned the vampire spawn and kissed him again. "You know, you do look like your mother."

At that, Gale smiled brightly. Proudly, Astarion realised. He kept caressing his husband's face.

"Since we've met, you've aged and it's beautiful. Because it means that you survived and are alive. I'll never age, but I'm not into youth. I'm attracted to people who show signs of aging, and I can finally choose who I take to bed. – The same goes for Tav, you know? She's not a beauty, obviously, but I love the way her eyes sparkle when she's happy and how her beaming smile lights up a room. I love the freckles on her broad shoulders and her tiny, little breasts, and that she can pick me up with ease and carry me around like a princess. I love her and I love you, and I love that I can be by your sides while both of you age."

"You might change your mind in forty years when we'll be all saggy skin and wrinkles and smell like old people," said Gale softly, but the vampire spawn shook his head.

"No," he replied with a serious expression on his face. "No, I'll always love you, just the way you are."

Smiling, the wizard pulled him in for a kiss, pouring all his feelings into it.

"I love you too," he muttered against his husband's lips. "As long as I live, you won't get rid of me."

Astarion snickered, replying: "I never want to get rid of you, my love."

They stayed in bed, warm and cosy, lying in each other's arms, and trading kisses. For once, time went by without their contribution. Astarion and Gale simply dwelled in each other's company without a care in the world.

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bucknastysbabe · 2 years ago

Note

Hi!🥀

I’m requesting the kink bingo “dirty talk” for Tommy Miller. This fits so well for him and especially with his accent it’s even better🫣💞

WE LOVE TOMMY MILLER IN THIS HOUSE

Kink Bingo - Dirty Talk

Rating: Explicit

Tags: Mutual masturbation, dirty talk, radio sex hahaha, Tommy is so in love, fluffy McFlurry, southern accents (I happen to have one just not as sexy as a Texan one :/ )

You were tossing and turning in the cold, cold bed. Tommy was off patrolling with Joel as they always did. While promising to fix the heater when he got back.

“Just use the fire,” he said.

Meanwhile you shivered under multitudes of blankets. You couldn’t be the only one with an inability to get used to the cold. Of course Tommy took to the Wyoming weather like a fish to water. You grumbled and curled up indignantly. Asshole, leaving you all cold and lonesome.

Sure you could go to Ellie and Dina’s but they were probably asleep at this hour. So you poured, shivered, stoked the fire, and repeated. The crackle of the radio caught your attention. You scrambled across the rickety floor, slipping in your socks but managing to grab the device.

“Baby girllll,” he crooned.

Your heart melted but your body was still cold. Your teeth chattered as you responded, ��Y-y-you’re a d-d-dick!” There was a pause before ‘Concerned Tommy’ answered. He demanded, “Christ sugar you sound like you’re frozen! I told you to stoke the fire!” You frowned at his admonishment, hands shaking.

“Dear? Sorry, that was awful a’me. I’ll be back and I’ll be fixin’ to get the heater right in no time. Why don’t you go sit by the fire with that bear blanket? Can you do that sugar?”

You chattered, “Y-yes on it. I-I al-already have t-ten layers on. M-miss your heat, fuh-Fuckin ass!”

The radio crackled again, Tommy yelling at Joel for making him come along when his lady is freezing. You cracked a stiff smile while you slung the heavy bearskin around your frame, padding to the warm fire. You planted down in front and said, “D-did Whatcha-cha asked-d.”

Tommy cooed, “Atta’ girl. Why don’t I tell you about our patrol until you can damn speak again? I’d make you some coffee baby- shit. Maybe when you’re better. Guess I’ll go hunting to make you a nice sheepskin, how’s that sound sugar?”

You made a noise of assent, curling by the fire and listening to Tommy’s soft accent. You loved it so much. Where you were from everyone talked really fast and weird. Southwest things.

Tommy regaled you on a horde of runners, some bandits, a lost half frozen bloater under a ski-cabin. No one was hurt, not that you’d think the Miller brothers would.

“You feelin’ better, sweet cheeks?,” Tommy asked. You could almost picture his furrowed brows and sad eyes. With a smile you replied, “I can talk somewhat normally now. I expect a jacket baby. Would be better if you were here.”

Tommy sighed, “I know, don’t remind me, hurts my heart. Whatcha’ got on, Frosty?”

You laughed, “Not a pretty picture. Silk long-johns, long-johms, flannel set, woolen socks, and that dumb hat my kids gave me. What about you, Mister Patrol?”

He chuckled through the crackle, “Less covered up than you. Big bro and I got this little cabin blazing. I’m not even wearing a shirt.” Tommy’s tone shifted to a more sultry tone. You whispered, “Is Joel around?”

“Nah, he’s off to bed, old man. Just you and me and some tips for my girl to heat up a little.”

This you could do. Almost forgive the bastard for freezing you out. You purred, “What’s tip one?” Tommy easily supplied, “Y’know the crotch and armpits are the warmest places n’ the body. Why dontcha’ loosen them flannels up for me? You’ll see.”

You scoffed, “Sure you don’t want me to tickle my pits?”

Tommy hushed you, “Aw quit it, I’m tryin’ to be smooth. Now back to it, m’doin the same- no pits.”

Just from the sound of his voice, your pussy was already excited. You unbuttoned the flannel and shoved your hands down the two layers of long-johns. Tommy inhaled sharply, cursing, “Fuck m’already hard for ya’.” Sliding two tentative fingers across your soaked slit you breathed, “Wet for you Miller, so damn wet. What’s next?”

“Lay back, but that bear down under ya. I’m layin’ on my favorite couch right now, big enough for both’a’us. I’d have that tight little pussy on top a’me, under, sideways.”

You moaned and spread the slick around your folds. You breathed, “Keep, fuck, talking.” Tommy made a low noise and murmured, “I know they ain’t big as mine but I want you to put two of those lil’ fingers in what’s mine and ride em’. Use the heel, ya’ know how angel.”

You did so, lashes fluttering shut, holding onto the radio like a lifeline. Your back arched as you followed his directions, moaning softly. Tommy’s groans of your name made it better. You began to grow a bit frustrated, this wasn’t the same.

Flopping onto your belly you humped harder, sweat beading up and your panting growing ragged. You whined, “T-Tommyy, s’not enough. Need your cock baby.” The Texan moaned lowly, you could hear the faint ‘schlick’ of his hand across what you really wanted.

You rambled, “I’m on my belly, humping like a damn dog. Need those hands of yours, guiding my hips, shoving your fat cock in- ah!”

Tommy swore, “Fuck baby, lemme jus’, hol’,” he took a deep breath and spoke, “I’ll walk ya’ through it baby. When I get back imma’ eat that pretty pussy until the sun comes up.”

“Please,” you begged and thrashed.

“Yeah- like ya’ said. I’ll have my hands ‘round ya’ waist. Fucking you good and hard, hittin’ that spot that drives ya’ wild. Makes you squirt all over my cock like a slut. Yeah honey?”

You curled your fingers drove harder, knees rubbing against the bear fur. In a whorish whine you replied, “Yesyesyes! When you push my face in the pillows and make it hurt! Fuck I love it! Fuck Tommy!”

Tommy groaned deep and long, that sound he made when he was about to nut. The brunette panted, “Mhmmm, yeah that’s it, I hear ya’. Want your old man to pound you into the bed. That’s what I’m gonna do to ya’ when I get back. Not gonna stop til’ your sore. C’mon now sugar, cum with me, I know you’re tightenin’ up reallll good.”

You threw your head back with a desperate cry of Tommy’s name. Your cunt sprayed slick around your fingers, whole body singing with ecstasy. On your come down you chanted Tommy’s name softer and softer. In the midst he choked on a sound, groaning as he pumped himself through his own release.

You certainly were much warmer now, flipping around to relax. Sleep seemed like it could stop evading you. Tommy hummed, “Sugar, ya’ good?” You breathlessly laughed, “Right as rain, Miller. I love you baby.”

“Love you more, can’t wait to see ya’, lord have mercy you almost gave me a heart attack.”

Tommy chuckled, “He might need someone to give him the tips. Grumpy bastard.”

One day of marathon pussy eating, followed by sex, you were gifted the sheepskin and a new heater. Tommy paraded you around Jackson, beaming like a dolt. Joe rolled his eyes and shoved his brother’s arm. T murmured quietly, “Maybe we need to find him someone to share tips with, grumpy old man.”

Tommy chuckled, “He might need someone to give him the tips. Grumpy bastard.” The pair of you busted into grips of laughter, holding to one another.

#kink bingo #asks answered #tlou smut #tommy miller x reader

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princessimotep · 5 months ago

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Tienes Mi Corazón - Chapter 3

One week had passed since Miriam had joined the Van Der Linde camp. The women of the gang had been particularly kind to the young woman, making sure she settled in. However, that was thing. She hadn’t settled in. The entire time she had remained quiet, not uttering a single word to anyone. Javier hadn’t been round to check in on her due to mission arrangements which required him to be out of camp for a long while. Although the young woman was quiet, she still completed whatever chores needed doing by Miss Grimshaw. She did them promptly and efficiently which immediately put her into the older woman’s good books. Half of the reason being, Miriam wished to pay the gang back for their kindness for taking her in and the other half being she wished to finish her day early so she could wander off somewhere just outside of camp to read. That was something she and Mary-Beth had in common. Mary-Beth kindly let Miriam borrow her books and she had finished reading almost all of them. Both Mary-Beth and Sadie were the most understanding of all.

It was late afternoon and the sun scorched brightly down through the trees which Miriam escaped to. She pressed her back against one notably large tree and slid down it, sitting silently in the shade. The way the rays beamed down through the foliage, it cast a mystical light onto the book she pulled out. Finding the page she was last reading, she sighed quietly. Not out of content but out of longing. Longing to find true peace in her situation… and to see her rescuer again.

Meanwhile, back in camp, a familiar grey overo steed trotted into camp with his loyal rider aboard. Dutch looked past Miss Grimshaw and Hosea who were conversing with him about the new girl. “Speaking of the man… Javier!” Dutch exclaimed, holding his hand up to greet him. Javier jumped down and hitched Boaz to the post. The younger male nodded to his leader.

“Yes, boss?” Dutch signalled the man over. “What’s the problem?”

“Before we get into that, how did it go?” Javier shrugged, pulling out a cigarette. He swiped a match against his boot to light it up. Flicking the match’s fire away, he breathed in the fumes before letting out a long, relaxed exhale.

“As good as it could, boss.” He then hummed in realisation, holding up his index finger. He twisted round his body to reach into his back pocket. The result being a wad of cash. Javier walked over to the cash box, placing the gang’s share inside and then pocketing his cut inside his inner jacket pocket. Dutch chuckled proudly.

“Well done my boy.” Miss Grimshaw sighed.

“Yes, yes. Well done, Mister Escuella. Now onto newer matters.” She exerted. Grimshaw held out her hands to get the younger male’s focus. “It’s Miss Miriam.” She now had Javier’s undivided attention.

“What about her?” He quickly responded, a slight hint of concern in his voice.

“She hasn’t spoken a single word since she’s been here!”

“Maybe… she’s just quiet?” Grimshaw tutted at Javier.

“It’s not just that. She hardly touches her food, despite Mr Pearson’s best efforts. She leaves the safety of the camp and goes, God knows where!” Seeing Grimshaw go a little red in the face, Hosea takes over.

“What we mean to say, Javier is…” Hosea places his hand on Javier’s shoulder, getting him to take a couple steps away from Dutch’s tent. “We’re concerned about the girl. We don’t know who she is, or where she’s from. It’s making it harder for us to help resolve her situation. And certainly, her not eating… well, we don’t want the poor girl to starve.”

“And where do I come into this?” Hosea gave Javier a knowing smile.

“She’s sweet on you.” Javier froze, caught off guard for a split second.

“Miss Miriam has only talked to you since being with us.” Grimshaw followed and Hosea once more continued on.

“She looks around camp for you, like a lost puppy. So, we think it’s only right that… you give her some company.”

“Company?” Javier quizzed.

“Just spend some time with her and… well maybe she’ll start to feel more comfortable in camp. Shed some light on who she is and how we can help her.” Javier thought about it and it did not take him long to nod. His thoughts still captivated by what Hosea stated earlier about Miriam being sweet on him.

“Sure.”

“Then it’s settled.” Dutch ended the discussion, calling Hosea back over to discuss future plans and waving away Miss Grimshaw. Javier strutted back to his tent, removing his denim jacket, and placing it on his bedding. He rolled his shoulders back until he heard a satisfying crack before finding his hat. Cigarette still in his mouth, he pushed the head piece firmly upon his head and looked around for where Miriam might be. Remembering the information Grimshaw gave him, he suspected she would be on the outskirts of camp, or at least not too far from it. He made his way through the trees.

Whisps of paper turning over soothed Miriam’s ears. The crisp freshness of a page gave an odd delight to the young woman. It helped her to feel immersed into the story she was reading. Currently her mind was in a realm of dragons who fought against brave knights to save their fair maidens whom were kidnapped beyond the charred lands. She smiled deeply at the paragraph before her, detailing how one of the knights looked down at a handkerchief his lover had given him before she was taken; for it reminded him of her and how he would stop at nothing until she was back in his arms.

“Así que aquí es donde te has estado escondiendo.” (“So this is where you’ve been hiding.”) Javier’s words rolled off his tongue so quickly, by the time he finished, Miriam had only just looked up. However, upon meeting his eyes, she smiled, happiness clear in her expression.

“Javier…” The way he leant against the tree; with his arms folded, one foot crossed in front of the other and his hat casting a shadow across his face, Miriam felt butterflies attack her stomach. She tucked her hair behind her ear. “How have you been?”

“I’ve been fine. Got sent away on a mission. It was a long one.” She nodded just slightly, glad to have some closure on where he had been. The young woman had thought up so many scenarios on what he was doing and almost all of them made her worry for his safety. “What about you?”

“I… I’ve been better.” Javier appreciated the honesty.

“Miss Grimshaw says you haven’t been eating.” Miriam stayed silent. The raven-head got down to her level, sitting beside her now. “You have to eat, cariño.” Changing the subject, she tilted her head at him.

“Ca… riño? What does that mean?” Her gentle voice made him smirk. She was so innocent. He found it… cute.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” He teased.

“Well, I’d like to know what you’re saying.”

“And where’s the fun in that… cariño?” When he said the term of endearment this time around, Miriam’s cheeks flushed, a spasm of warmth coursing rapidly down to her lower abdomen. This mysterious persona yet charming and kind nature he possessed was so attractive to her. Part of her enjoyed the lack of understanding she had when he spoke to her in his native tongue. It encouraged to her bite back a little. She gave a short laugh to conceal her blush.

“You’re being very rude.” Javier blinked yet a smile still there to proclaim his own innocence.

“How so?” Laughing once more, Miriam closed her book and got up. Wrapping both arms around the literature and began to walk deeper into the trees. Javier couldn’t help himself but jest some more as he tried to follow after her. “¿Adónde vas?” (“Where are you going?”) Miriam stopped in her tracks; looking over her shoulder, smiling at him in a way which looked like she was half finding the situation amusing and the other half being astounded at his persistence.

“I think you’re taking advantage of my poor understanding of Spanish, Mister Escuella.” He stopped also. He put his hands on his hips, a grin now plastered across his face.

“Is that so?”

“I know so.” It was her turn to put a hand on her hip. “You obviously relish in watching me look at you, clueless and just when I find the courage to ask what you mean, you deny me.”

“Courage…” He chuckled, lowering his cap slightly so she was unable to see his eyes as clearly. “I didn’t realise I was so scary to talk to.” Her expression changed, not expecting him to respond like that.

“I… what I mean to say is…” She took a step closer to gain his attention. “I’m quite intrigued by your language. It sounds so… fascinating and beautiful. I only wish to learn more.” Mirroring her last movement, he too stepped closer. Now Miriam was arching her neck back to look up at him. His eyes a deep dark amber, shrouded with enigma.

“Entonces escucha atentamente, cariño…” (“Then listen carefully, darling…”) A twig snapped beneath his boot as he took one last step closer. She didn’t back down from his advances, keeping her eyes locked with his. He leant down, his lips inches away from her ear. “Te enseñaré un par de cosas.” (“I’ll teach you a few things.”) Her breath became jagged. He was so close to her. She couldn’t help but slightly turn her head to try and look him in the eye. Oh, how she regretted it. Javier’s eyes looked so intense. Smouldering effortlessly. A slither of fear ran down her spine, praying that her knees would keep her standing for her belly was now dancing in tight circles. Javier broke the gaze by stepping back to chuckle. He pinched the bridge of his nose, shaking his head as he did so. Ever so quietly, Miriam huffed.

“What’s so funny?”

“Your expression, cariño. It’s so…” He held his hand out, rotating his fingers round in loops to try and find the word he was looking for. “… dulce.”

“Dulce?” His expression softened.

“Dulce.” He repeated, more enunciated this time to help with her pronunciation.

“Dulce.”

“There you go.” Javier spoke, encouragement in his voice. She smiled at her small victory but then frowned.

“But… what does it mean?” The dark-haired male looked at her, soaking in her beautifully confused expression not long before turning on his heel to head back towards camp. Just before she could retaliate, Javier responded.

“I’ll tell you… if you eat with me back at camp.” Once more he looked at her. This time his expression was no longer playful. It was stern yet somewhat pleading. Miriam looked down, being reminded of why she didn’t feel comfortable to eat. She could not explain why to him, in fear of what he would think of her. Yet all her worries seemed to disappear when she noticed his hand outstretched to her. “Toma mi mano.” (“Take my hand.”) For the first time, she unknowingly understood what he meant by his words. Miriam placed her hand in his where his tanned fingers wrapped around her slender ones. He gave it the faintest of squeezes before pulling her along behind him.

The two of them made it back to camp where Mr Pearson had just placed his big stew pot down – ready for the gang members to help themselves to. There was no disorderly rush, just a couple members at a time, at random intervals going for their share of food. Javier guided Miriam over to the empty table and there he left her so he could grab her a bowl of stew. She tucked her hair behind her ears, feeling somewhat nervous for reasons she still didn’t wish to share. By the time she sat down, Javier had returned with a bowl for himself and one for her.

“Here.” He placed it front of her. “It’s not the best, but Pearson does his best.” Miriam delicately scooped up a spoonful and stared at it. Javier watched from the corner of his eye, starting on his own bowl. Trying her best to overcome her mental battle, she placed her lips around the spoon and swallowed the liquid. A narrow smile tugged at Javier’s lips. “Dulce… it means ‘sweet’.” The educational moment warmed Miriam’s heart, taking another mouthful whilst she smiled to herself. Javier in turn found her reaction so charming.

“Sweet, hm? Like… honey sort of sweet?” She responded.

“Uh… yes. Yes. Helps describe a lot of pleasant things.”

‘Oh God…’ Miriam thought to herself, feeling that warm rush return to her lower abdomen. Why did he have to say things like that? In a way that could make any person swoon. She cleared her throat, trying to focus back on her food. “How would you describe this, then?” She asked, referring to Pearson’s food which was clearly not pleasant. Javier leant back in his chair and shrugged looking down at the bowl.

“Comestible.” The young woman smirked at him, awaiting his elaboration. He looked at her completely serious, an almost blank expression. “Edible.” Then something unexpected happened. She found herself truly laughing, out loud. It caught a few of the gang member’s attention. In particular, Mr Pearson, who put a hand on his hip, scowling.

“Something funny?” Javier raised his hand, shaking it in defence as he called over to him.

“No, no, Mister Pearson! The food is good!” Another bubble of laughter erupted from within the newcomer. The camp’s chef grumbled something under his breath as he continued working at his station. Miriam’s laugh made Javier smile from ear to ear. It was quite a dirty laugh; unlike anything he had ever heard before. He liked it. “Was it something I said?” The young woman brought her index fingers to her eyes, wiping away the tears which prickled her waterline.

“It’s just how you said it.”

“How did I say it?”

“You said it so serious! Like you were so…” More laughter escaped her which resulted in her now holding her belly, a painful stitch beginning to form. “Stop it!” The laughter began to hurt, yet she still couldn’t cease the action. “Please!” The more she thought about how Javier looked when he said it, the funnier it got.

From a distance, Hosea looked up from his newspaper; seeing the pair enjoying each other’s company. His own grin gracing his features. He shook his head, flipping over to the next page. Hosea was usually right about these things and it seemed he had resolved the situation quickly.

Finally, Miriam calmed down, fanning herself to cool off. Javier rose an eyebrow, looking smug at the chaos he caused at the table. “You okay?”

“Yes. I’m so sorry-”

“Don’t apologise. It was nice to hear.” Not wanting herself to be embarrassed any further, she placed down the spoon back into the bowl and excused herself from the table. She failed to eat all of it, but it was progress. Miriam took her bowl away to go wash up and Javier followed behind with his own. She offered to take it for him but he insisted on helping her. The raven-head rolled his white sleeves up, exposing his muscular forearms. Miriam couldn’t help but notice how well dressed he was. His black waistcoat hugged onto his body, exposing how broad and wide his chest was from underneath. In addition, the way his ebony locks fell down his face, just exposing the slit across his eyebrow and chiselled cheeks. The man was beautiful. She pondered on the thought of how lucky she felt to have been saved by him. He could have easily tried to have his own way with her after killing that O’Driscoll, but instead he showed her kindness which she thought did not exist.

Finishing the washing up, Javier shook his hands above the tub to get rid of any excess water. “Right, that should be it.” Snapping back into reality, Miriam swiftly dried her hands with a towel and headed over to her tent. Once she retrieved what she needed from her tent, the young woman returned to Javier.

“Before you go… I wanted to return this.” With both her hands, she offered back Javier’s neatly folded poncho. “There was a small rip in the back so I fixed it for you.” Javier gently took the material from her and unfolded the poncho to look at her patchwork. She had done a good job. It looked as though there was no obvious repair at all. His heart clenched at the thought of her sitting on some tree somewhere with a needle and thread in her hand, trying to fix something that was dear to him. He looked at her with warmth and gratitude.

“Thank you, Miriam.” There was a comfortable silence between the two. Before it got too long, Miriam pointed over to the ladies.

“I better go see if they need help.” Javier nodded. Shyly she smiled. “I’ll see you later.”

“Hasta luego.” (“See you later.”) The male took a second to process that afternoon’s events and he turned on his heel to walk away. Javier noticed Miriam had left her book on the table. He picked it up and contemplated returning it to her now or later. He held it tighter, deciding later would be best as it would give him another excuse to see her. Javier continued walking. He didn’t know where he was going to walk off to, but he knew he needed time to think. Upon passing, Hosea popped down his newspaper, still sat with one leg crossed on his seat.

“How’d it go?” The older man asked nonchalantly. Being lost in his own thoughts, Javier unknowingly ignored Hosea’s question and kept walking. He didn’t even realise Hosea was trying to speak to him. The elder shook his head, smiling. He licked his thumb to help turn another page of the paper. “Ah… young love.”

#javier escuella #javier escuella x reader #javier escuella x original character #javier #escuella #red dead redemption 2 #rdr2 #romance #van der linde gang

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mannylikessims · 11 months ago

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The True Story of the Villareal Family [1.2]

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The Von Haunt Estate is a wonderful tourist destination for families, and Jacques couldn’t be happier to finally be away from his.

With his annoying kids out of the way until their secret meeting tonight, Jacques could get back to his second-favorite hobby:

Playing chess,

-while in cosplay. And, miraculously, he wasn’t the only Sim in Windenburg with this hobby. There was a whole club devoted to it.

The suit was stifling hot, you could barely breathe in it, and it was very hard to see the chess pieces, but Jacques loved it nonetheless. And, it was more socially acceptable than his other favorite hobby, murder.

Tonight, Jacques would have to work (they say evil never sleeps, and neither do level 9 criminals in the criminal career), but for now, he had the whole afternoon to play chess in his clinkity-clankity suit of armor.

───────────────✦───────────────

Meanwhile, Luna and Lady Mimsy were getting along like peanut butter and jelly.

She was just teaching the ghost how to slide into someone’s DMs when a voice startled them.

“Ghost!” shouted the voice, muffled by the suit of armor. “Go away, ghost! You leave her alone!”

Luna burst out laughing. “Relax! Mimsy’s, like, not even a little scary. And we’re besties, actually.”

“…besties?” said Mimsy.

“It means we’re BFFLs,” explained Luna.

“…biffles?”

The figure in the suit stiffened. “Well, I uh, thought you were maybe in trouble. Do you always laugh at people trying to help you?”

“Only when they’re wearing costumes from a Halloween store,” she retorted. “But thanks for the noble gesture.”

“Hey now, this is custom-tailored plate armor.” Was it just Luna or did this knight sound cheeky?

“Okay, nerd.”

“Yo, I am not a nerd. You’re the nerd.”

“Said the person wearing a custom-made knight outfit.” Her mouth twitched with a smile. Two could be cheeky.

She searched the face of the suit for a reaction, but couldn’t see anything behind the visor. She could swear the knight wasn’t taking their eyes off her, though.

Behind her, Luna heard Mimsy suppress a giggle. “Well, I must attend to some ghostly business, bestie. Have fun with your knight in shining armor!”

“Wait, I’m not looking for like, a savior or anything,” she said, but Mimsy had already floated away. Luna placed a hand on her hip.

The knight tutted, shaking their head. “And here I thought you were just a nice, boring girl.”

Luna narrowed her eyes. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I’m just saying, you’re not what I expected. I didn’t know a pretty, popular girl like you could be so savage.”

“Well, I’m full of surprises,” said Luna with another coy smile. She didn’t know who was in this knight suit, but they certainly had her attention. And it didn’t escape her notice that they had called her pretty.

───────────────✦───────────────

“Hey Mister.”

Max had found his own ghost to talk to, a translucent figure standing at an easel.

The ghost of Lord Bernard turned, tensing as he saw Max. “Yes, child?” he said.

“Is that your art?” said Max, pointing at the piece on the easel.

The ghost raised his eyebrows, but then puffed his chest up proudly. “Why yes, it’s only half-finished, but-"

“I now see why you killed yourself.”

Bernard stood frozen in shock for a brief second, then descended upon the child like a raging tempest.

“Listen here, you little ratbag,” he spat. “It was an accident.”

“Yeah, right,” said Max.

“The fire was never supposed to spread-“

“The painting you threw into the fireplace was waaay too big to fit in there and you knew it. Of course you knew the fire would spread.”

Bernard spluttered in shock.

“Ooh, burn!” said Max. “Literally! Haha!”

And the more Bernard quivered with rage, the more Max grinned.

───────────────✦───────────────

Just past the seething ghost, over the railing and below the walkway, lay a vast collection of hedges, and within those hedges, a certain teenager was lost.

Hugo checked his Voidcritter Go! app on his phone.

“Let’s see, this is where I found the Dicoatl, which means I want to turn right to get out of here – wait, there’s no right-"

The sky was darkening, Hugo’s stomach was growling, and he was pretty sure he’d passed this spot of hedges before. And he couldn’t shake the feeling that he was being watched.

“Oh plum,” he said to himself, getting worried. “I gotta get to Dad’s Family Fun Day, but I’m all mixed up now…”

───────────────✦───────────────

Luna was still with the knight who had “saved” her from Mimsy’s ghost. Somehow, the entire afternoon had slipped away while they were talking.

“So, why were you so aggressive towards Mimsy? Are you afraid of ghosts or something?”

“No!” said the knight quickly. “And I’m not aggressive. I’m tough. I don’t want anybody messing with people I care about.”

“So you saw me and decided you cared about me? That’s why you were acting tough?”

“No,” said the knight, a little too quickly again. “You know, just because you act like a princess doesn’t mean every knight is fawning over you.”

Luna paused, frowning for a brief moment, before slyly raising a finger to the knight’s helmet.

“So, who is my tough knight in shining armor who doesn’t care about me?” she said, slowly lifting their visor,

but the knight stepped back before she could reveal their face. “H-hey! Hands off the suit, princess,” they stammered.

Luna doubled over giggling. “You said you didn’t care about me, but suddenly you’re too shy to show me your face?” She straightened back up, still giggling, and handed the knight something.

“Here,” she said. “Because I like you even though you’re shy.”

“Uh, what?” The knight stood there, flustered, holding Luna’s phone.

“I’m asking for your number, genius. It’s almost nightfall and I have to go.”

“Oh!” If the knight was blushing, Luna couldn’t tell. They struggled to enter their number on her phone with their clunky metal fingers, finally handing it back after several painstaking minutes.

“There you go. Don’t text me anything too savage, princess. Or do.”

Luna wondered if the knight was smiling.

She giggled. “Goodbye, my knight in shining armor.” Luna blew them a kiss, betting it would send them weak in the knees,

and she was right.

“Bye, princess…”

Luna sauntered away, butterflies tingling in her stomach.

As she walked off into the sunset, she could barely concentrate on her Family Fun Day obligations. All she could think about was her mysterious knight in shining armor.

───────────────✦───────────────

While Luna was making friends, Max was making enemies.

It was official now: The ghost of Lord Bernard Escargot Shallot IV was afraid of a 10-year-old.

When the sun started to set, Max finally walked away from his new enemy, triumphant.

It was Max: 1, Bernard: 0.

───────────────✦───────────────

But the day wasn’t over yet, and Jacques was waiting for his children. The real work of Family Fun Day was just about to begin.

───────────────✦───────────────

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#thesims4 #simlit #sims4 #windenburg #luna villareal #villareal #get together #the true story of the villareal family #hugo villareal #jacques villareal #max villareal #ts4 #the sims 4 #Von Haunt Estate #sims story #ts4 story #tTSotVF

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spot-the-antisemitism · 1 month ago

Note

Hey, I don't know if you noticed that khanuckle is friends with someone named lepartidelamort, who goes on unhinged Holocaust denying rants multiple times a day. I've been trying to report their hate speech, and found that the following are the most blatantly hate speech filled posts they have (and in English, so hopefully more likely that staff responds). Idk if you're okay with helping to report them:

tumblr*com/lepartidelamort/765696110672101376/low-energy-christian-students-whine-about?source=share

tumblr*com/lepartidelamort/765695764647264256/a-third-of-americans-believe-immigrants-are?source=share

It would be nice to have help making sure tumblr staff responds. Wish you the best.

OH yeah the guy that told me to go to Auswitz, yeah I already reported him

Using German propaganda

His source is the daily stormer this guy LOOOVES Anglin

I wonder if the guardian even said that or if Anglin just lied

man has a persecution complex

He is right if you can't stand the heat don't jump in a fire. Those christian bigots are the garden variety no tag backs posers

this guy meanwhile is a nazi who behind his keyboard is all bravado

Quick mister Anglin would Sinwar even shout "Christ is king" at Jews? Why or why not?

Is saying "Sinwar mode" while showing this man get totalled by a drone and some IDF rookie really the badass image you're going for

Ah yes Sinwar mode aka die in your bunker why cowering in fear, very Hitler-core, such Nazi chic

(no I don't know what those words mean either, I just made them up they sound like if "Ironic" nazis did aesthetics. Although Nazi Chic is used for fashion that looks like nazi uniforms aka some the stuff the empire wears in Star Wars (the other is based on Soviet and US uniforms) )

Nobody tell them that while Rorschach is a right winger who is vaguely Christian and extremely anti sex and misogynist, however his only friend is nerdy Jewish inventor named Dan Dreiberg

Also nobody tell them about the time he murdered a priest when he found he was a rapist and a serial killer with the priest's own rapture sign and took the sign for himself as Rorschach believed he embodied those ideals better

He would kill with a your own weapons, christofascists

while you can try reporting these I suggest you mass report the one wishes I was killed in the holocaust instead

#right wing antisemitism #right wing racism #racism #antisemitism #nazi propaganda #right wing hypocrisy #tw nazis #tw holocaust mention #tw rape mention #christofascism

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funtomfactory · 1 year ago

Text

A Kuroshitsuji Christmas

A little Black Butler Christmas thing I threw together, enjoy!

Sebastian: *narrates* It was Boxing Day, late 19th century. Just outside of London, UK, lay the grand Phantomhive manor. Its rooftops were decorated with a sheet of white snow, and its windows shimmered with light coming from within. All of the household was in high spirits; the maid, Mey-Rin, was donning some wreath in her hair. Finny, the gardener, had helped to set up real trees inside. They were decorated with candles and ornaments, and proven to be capable of taking a blow, which was proven by the cook Bardroy when he tried to set the Christmas pudding alight. Old man Tanaka was resting near the fireplace and the footman Snake was handing out hot chocolate to everyone. The season had everyone in its grasp. Everyone, safe for the young master, who was sitting cross-legged in a chair near a tree ladened with presents.

Ciel: *shifts in his chair and grumbles* Ugh, I can't believe how much time I've wasted on social frivolities these last few days, I'm horribly behind schedule on my paperwork....

Sebastian: *whispering, while smirking mischievously* Come now young master, this is a special day for us servants. You owe it to us for all our hard work.

Ciel: *sighs* I suppose you're right. Well then... *turns around towards Finny* Finny, would you be so kind to hand out the first box?

Finny: With pleasure, young master! *Finny jumps up and grabs the nearest box* This one is for... S-Snake... Hey! It's from Lady Elizabeth!

Snake: *takes the box from Finny* From Smile's fiancée? How nice, says Webster.

Ciel: Yes, she was pretty thorough with buying presents this year...

Snake unwrapped the box and looked inside. He pulled out a handful of what appeared to be tiny scarfs and hats.

Bard: Are those...

Ciel: Lizzy insisted that she wanted Snake's snakes to wear matching clothing. She insisted it would make them... *twitches his fingers* That much cuter.

Snake: That's a lovely idea! We'll wear them with pride, says Emily.

As Snake tried to fit his snakes with their new ensemble, the young master guestured Finny to hand out the next gift.

Finny: Here you go, Mey-Rin!

Mey: M-My turn?! Thank you Finny!

Mey-Rin unwraps her gift to reveal a lavishly decorated hair clip.

Mey: Oh my! It's stunning yes it is! Thank you young master!

Ciel nods in approval as Mey-Rin tries to put the clip in her hair. Meanwhile, Finny reads the tag on the third present.

Finny: This one is yours, Bard!

Bard: Alright! Let's see what we've got here! *tears off the wrapping paper* A metal cigarette case!

Sebastian: Since you're prone to... Flammable accidents we thought it suitable to buy you something to at least keep your cigarettes safe from anything catching on fire. It would be a waste if you didn't get to smoke them.

Bard: I don't know if that's a compliment... But I'll take it. Thank you very much!

Finny: *frowns at the next present* This one is for... All of us?

Bard: Well then what are you waiting for?

Ciel: Go ahead Finny, open it up.

Finny rips open the box to reveal a stack of Chirstmas hats. The hats are covered in glitter and ribbons. Ciel moans.

Ciel: Lizzy... What have you done?

Sebastian: It would be an insult not to wear them.... *takes one from the stack and puts in on his young master's head, then puts one on himself* Now we're actually dressed for the occasion.

The other servants cheer as they put on their hats. Ciel slumps in his chair, looking miserable.

Finny: Ah, this box is if you, mister Sebastian!

Sebastian: *looks surprised* For me?

Ciel: *smirks* Did you really think you would be spared?

Sebastian: *takes the box from Finny* I... Well thank you!

Ciel: I wouldn't be so quick with the gratitude...

Sebastian unwraps the present. Inside is a calendar for the new year, each month containing a drawing of cats.

Sebastian: Aah... How adorable...

Ciel: *annoyed* And here I was thinking Lizzy would give you something more...

Sebastian: Unsuitable? That thought hardly fits with the Christmas spirit, young master...

Sebastian hugs the calendar to his chest as Finny hands the next gift to Takana.

Tanaka: Ho ho ho...

Finny helps Tanaka open his present. Tanaka got an expensive looking set of tea cups.

Tanaka: Hoh!

Finny: One for you, young master! *hands Ciel a box*

Mey: Oh! That's from all of us!

Bard: Please enjoy it, young master!

Snake: And a Merry Chirstmas to you! Says Oscar.

Ciel has a quizzical look on his face as he opens the package. The servants got him a set of eyepatches.

Ciel: Wha-... Thank you...

Bard: There's no need to be embarassed about receiving a gift young master!

Finny: Now you can match them with your outfits!

Mey: Me and mister Snake picked them especially for you, yes we did!

Sebastian: *has a look of malice in his eyes as he takes out a bright, crimson eyepatch* How about you try this one, young master? It matches the hat....

There was no room for protest as Sebastian swapped the regular, black eyepatch for the coloured one. Ciel's face was barely a shade away from matching the new ensemble.

Finny: Ah, this package is for Mey-Rin again!

Ciel: Wouldn't you want to unwrap a gift yourself first?

Mey: You can't skip yourself, no you can't!

Finny: O-Okay!

Snake: Here's one with your name on it, says Wordsworth.

Finny took the box Snake pointed at from the stack.

Finny: I wonder what it is... *unwraps his gift* ... It's a book!

Bard: *reads the title over Finny's shoulder* "20 Christmas stories and carols, bundled".... With this, you'll be an expert on Christmas before the next year rolls around!

Finny: Thank you young master!

Ciel smiles as Finny stares at the cover, tears in his eyes.

Ciel: I hope you've been practising your reading skills.

Finny: I have! I'm still not that fast, though... Hey... Here's an idea... Could you read us one of these stories tonight, young master?

Ciel: Wha-

Mey: What a splendid idea that is!

Bard: Hey yeah! That would be fun! We've never heard you read something aloud like that.

Ciel: *blushes* And you never will...

Sebastian: Come now, young master, don't be a spoilsport...

Ciel: Why you... *sighs* ... Fine. But only one, and you'll have to work extra hard to do all the cleaning up in the morning.

Servants: Will do!

Ciel: *flips through the book* Hmm... Ah, here's one. A visit from St. Nicholas.

The servants leaned in closer as Ciel cleared his throat.

Ciel: 'Twas the night before Christmas, and all through the house, not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse. The stockings were hung by the chimney with care-

Finny: Stockings?

Bard: Yeah some people put the presents in socks above the chimney.

Mey: Really?!

Finny: That sounds fun! Let's hang our socks above the chimney too!

The servants scrambled on thier feet and ran out of the room.

Ciel: Hey! Wait!

After a while, the servants returned, each carrying a sock. Snake's sock looked wrinkled, and Bard's contained a hole. Ciel blinked in surprise, then shook his head in annoyance. The servants hung their socks on the chimney mantle, then settled down again.

Ciel: Could I please continue the story without any interruptions? ... Here we are... The children were nestled all snug in their beds, while visions of sugar-plums danced in their heads, and mamma in her 'kerchief, and I in my cap, had just settled down for a long winter's nap, when out on the lawn there arose such a clatter, I sprang from the bed to see what was the matter. Away to the window I flew like a flash, tore open the shutters and threw up the sash. The moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow, gave the lustre of mid-day to objects below, when, what to my wondering eyes should appear, but a miniature sleigh, and eight tiny reindeer.

Finny: Wow! Santa really has that many reindeers?!

Snake: Do they all have names?

Ciel: *sighs* I'll get to that in a minute... Now... With a little old driver, so lively and quick, I knew in a moment it must be St. Nick. More rapid than eagles his coursers they came, and he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name; "Now, DASHER! now, DANCER! now, PRANCER and VIXEN! On, COMET! on CUPID! on, DONNER and BLITZEN! To the top of the porch! to the top of the wall! Now dash away! dash away! dash away all!"

Finny: They can climb walls?!

Mey: Hush Finny, or we'll never hear the end of the story!

Ciel: As dry leaves that before the wild hurricane fly, When they meet with an obstacle, mount to the sky, So up to the house-top the coursers they flew, With the sleigh full of toys, and St. Nicholas too. And then, in a twinkling, I heard on the roof The prancing and pawing of each little hoof. As I drew in my head, and was turning around, Down the chimney St. Nicholas came with a bound.

Finny: *rushes to the fireplace, knocking over Tanaka* Santa! Santa are you in the chimney?! But the fire is on! It's hot!

Tanaka: Hoooh!

Bard: Finny! Would you please calm down?!

Snake: You know he's not real, right? Says Webster.

As Bard and Snake tugged Finny back to his place and Sebastian helped Tanaka upright again, Ciel continued.

Ciel: He was dressed all in fur, from his head to his foot, And his clothes were all tarnished with ashes and soot; A bundle of toys he had flung on his back, And he looked like a peddler just opening his pack. His eyes -- how they twinkled! his dimples how merry! His cheeks were like roses, his nose like a cherry! His droll little mouth was drawn up like a bow, And the beard of his chin was as white as the snow; The stump of a pipe he held tight in his teeth, And the smoke it encircled his head like a wreath; He had a broad face and a little round belly, That shook, when he laughed like a bowlful of jelly. He was chubby and plump, a right jolly old elf, And I laughed when I saw him, in spite of myself; A wink of his eye and a twist of his head, Soon gave me to know I had nothing to dread.

Finny: *sighs dreamily* With a description like that... How could he not be real?

Bard: You can't be serious, right?!

Ciel: This is indeed a rather joyful version of Father Christmas. He has also seen other iterations, though... *smirks impishly*

Finny: *a little scared* R-Really?!

Ciel: Read the rest of the book and find out for yourself... Now where was I... Ah... He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work, and filled all the stockings, then turned with a jerk, and laying his finger aside of his nose, and giving a nod, up the chimney he rose-

There was the sound of something clattering. Looking around with a jerk, the household saw Finny laying on his back on the floor, blissfully asleep, his cup of hot cocoa rolling on the carpet.

Mey: Oh dear...

Bard: He couldn't even finish the story...

Ciel: *snaps the book shut* Well I guess that's the end of it for now then... Sebastian, Bard, bring Finny to his bed. Mey-Rin, Snake, clean away the cups and then it's off to bed. We'll finish the rest of the presents tomorrow.

Servants: *nod* Yes sir!

And so, Sebastian carried Finny downstairs, with Bardroy in tow. They entered thier room and lay Finny down on his bed. As Sebastian pulled him under the covers, Bardroy put on his nightwear.

Bard: I swear he's still just a kid, despite his ridiculous strength.

Sebastian: Kid or not, I'll expect him to work hard tomorrow to mkae up for the ruckus he caused.

Bard: *slides into his bed* Geez, lighten up a bit, it's the one time a year we servants get to taste a bit of magic... Who's the spoilsport now... *turns around and starts snoring*

Sebastian: Magic, hm? *grabs the red duvet from Finny's bed and swings open the window, jumping on the windowsill and climbing towards the roof, the duvet draped over his shoulders*

The cold draft from the open window made its way to Finny, who stirred, searching for his covers.

Finny: Hm? Ah! *spots the open window and scurries over, looking around over the landscape, and spots something crimson* Santa Claus?

Meanwhile upstairs, Snake and Mey-Rin just finished their tasks.

Mey: I know I shouldn't ask, young master, but just how does the story end?

Ciel: *reopens the book and points at the last few lines of the poem* He sprang to his sleigh, to his team gave a whistle, and away they all flew like the down of a thistle. But I heard him exclaim, ere he drove out of sight-

At that moment, Sebastian soared from the rooftop towards the trees, guised under a blur of red. Ciel looked in disbelief as the jaws of Snake and Mey-Rin dropped to the floor. A few flors below, Finny cheered with delight.

Finny: Santa! Santa! Bard! Look!

Bard: *Sleepy* huh...? Wha-!

As he flew by the windows, Sebastian shouted.

Sebastian: Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good night!

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xatsperesso · 2 years ago

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I made so search about Ifrit and I found some interesting things:

Ifrit, also spelled as efreet, afrit, and afreet is a powerful type of demon in Islamic mythology.

In Moroccan belief, the afarit form a more powerful type of demon, compared to the djinn and other supernatural creatures. With the aid of a magical ring, the afarit might be forced to perform certain orders. -Ifrit appears frequently in film and video games. In the Final Fantasy video game series, an ifrit appears as a summonable spirit or/and an enemy. Like its mythological counterpart, it is a spirit of fire and can use an iconic spell called Hell-Fire Demon Summonable Fire In Iruma universe, it probably meant that this family of demon has a history of being summoned by humanity. So much that they left a trace on history, folklore and myths like we see now in games and stuff like that.

It also mean that Ifrit is perfectly aware that humans exist. Even if he has not been summoned himself, his ancestors have been.

Imagine if Iruma's parents find the summoning circle of Ifrit after some shady searches. or maybe they weren't shady and that they used the first circle that they found in their searches and it happened to be the ifrit one.

So Ifrit-sensei is summoned, he literally dispear during a meeting with his coworkers.

And he appears in the human realm like "….really? it has been centuries since last time a member of my family has lived that. and that's my turn. Damn!"

Iruma BAD parents: "Hello mister demon, we summoned you for a affair!

Ifrit: …i hope that you don't call a demon for nothing because someone less patient than me could have been angry you know, especially that your circle is badly made. My ancestors would have eaten you on the spot ya know.

Iruma BAD parents: We want money

Ifrit: sigh humanity will never change, they were right. light up a cigarette I'm really disappointed now.

Iruma BAD parents: we give you our son as payment.

Ifrit: ….I'm sorry what?"

And the teachers of Babyls have a son now.

Omg that'd be so cute

Like i see it very vividly they'd all be very protective of him!

of course there'd be that one teacher who's like "can we eat him?" And the rest would be like "wtf no"

I can see ifrit being the wine aunt who'd fucking kill for iruma like just say the word sweetie and they're a goner

Kalego would pretend he doesn't like iruma but he's such a dad an so in denial and everyone would make fun of him

Of course balam would be a mother hen making sure iruma is ok from the trauma of his parents leaving him, meanwhile iruma is there like "this isn't as bad as i thought it'd be. I think I'll stay" ( ya know without all the bs sullivan pulled on him at the beginning and all these people making sure ma boi doesn't get caught and keeping him safe+well fed like why wouldn't he want to stay)

Sullivan would be watching them like "haha these demons antics" but then he'd have one interaction with iruma and he'd be like "he's mine now" and try kidnapping him

Iruma would just smile at opera like "nice to meet you, opera-san!" And opera would immediately help sullivan in kidnapping iruma

I cant help but see dantalion being a little shit who always messes with iruma idk why that's just his vibe

I feel like marbas would just be hanging around in the back like "iruma already has all these demons taking care of him he'll come to me if he needs anything" and then iruma goes to him in his very sweet iruma-way and halfway through marbas would be like i would die for this kid

It'd just be so cute

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walnutcookie · 1 year ago

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hello there mister almond sir i just read your Misfortune infodump and i. am intrigued. i would like to hear more pretty please /nf

MISFORTUNE RANT PART 2💥💥 THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR THIS ASK BWAAA/GEN ...

part 1 here

so . Unfortunately i am a sucker for fluff and also capchat so that is precisely the ending my fanon gets HXVDKDB

langue comes to visit cappu in her office the day after he saw misfortune again and finds her like half dead with a hangover and theyre like Hey. What the fuck happened. shes a little hesitant because yknow not everyone will believe you when you say theres a giant 10 foot raven inside of you!! but he tells langue EVERYTHING and based on what cappu tells them. They believe her!! they are horrified and greatly disgusted (thhey dont like the thought of a giant bird covered in blood crawling in and out of cappus mouth so they make her swish out his mouth before they kiss him /hj)

but langue is a stubborn fuck. a perfectionist and an overachiever. they are going to fight misery itself just to prove they can. So!! misfortune feeds off of cappuccino being miserable? then they just have to make her life As good and lovely as possible so that he never feels miserable. or at least not enough for it to feed off of her

they manage to convince their parents (who were never very fond of cappu and just saw her as a bad influence for their precious lovely child) to let cappu move in with them temporarily and they quickly start to adore him because Of Course They Do. Langue is going to nag him about every little thing until he Actually Does It so eventually they manage to get him a proper sleep schedule, wean her off of cigarettes, heavily cut her daily coffee intake, and most importantly keep her from being isolated so often. Love wins !

obviously it takes a loong time and misfortune is NOT happy that this little fuck is managing to ignore all of the disasters its causing (falling furniture. fires. shattered windows. anything it can manage to do) and somehow not die from any of it and eventually They succeed ! Cappuccino is actually happy! even though misfortune still tries to make her life a living hell she now has support from langue AND their parents and so shes able to actually push through and recover from his bad luck instead of just having to sit there and endure it (or desperately find ways to escape it)

right now the silly ending is misfortune senses a very very miserable being walking down the street and goes to hide in them instead but it turns out it was ROGUEFORT and misfortune has thousands of year old beef with their sentient cloak goddess (lupine) and it escapes heavily weakened.

it is so itty bitty now. but it has found that movie theaters produce a good amount of misery for it to feed off of and it lives in there now lol. Diversity win! The spirit of misfortune likes popcorn!

this is all just a silly ending though idk if its canon or not . Either way misfortune leaves cappu and finds another victim HXBDKFB

meanwhile cappu is FUCKING DYING!!! It clawed its way out of his chest since it no longer cared if she died or not and had no use for her it just left her to die. Thankfully it was in langues house so he was rushed to a hospital as soon as langue saw her with his chest literally wide open (they frew up) and Cappu Survived!!!!

thats basically it HXVDKF cappu rides in a car while conscious for the first time in years when langues parents drive her home from the hospital and he is an Anxious Mess because of how many accidents hes been in and how its caused her to be absolutely terrified of cars. but langue is there to hold his hand and. um. yeah just kind of hold her hand because they are AWFUL at comforting people. But their parents try to say some comforting things !!! poor thang is trembling

if anyone has any questions i would love to answer :3!! i love this silly raven thang so much

#🎉 rambles

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thatboomerkid · 8 months ago

Text

Happy Hunting, Mister the Frog! (part one)

[interior: the New York Continental, mid-day; it is full of badass assassins in fancy suits all quietly going about their business]

[the camera pans the lobby to show that the crowd is also inexplicably interspersed with various Muppets: Rolf is playing piano, Scooter is a bellhop, Link Hogthrob is talking on a cellphone while surrounded by beautiful female bodyguards, and Sam Eagle is reading a newspaper with the headline “PROFITS?!?”, all while Uncle Deadly & Sweetums chat casually with a group of heavily-tattooed men]

[the crowd is ALSO full of random celebs not otherwise featured in the John Wick movies: Zendaya, Mark Ruffalo, Weird Al, Jenna Ortega, Snoop Dogg, Jack Black, Margot Robbie, Randall Park, Paul Rudd, Nicholas Cage, Lucy Liu, Christopher Walken, Tommy Chong, and Lady Gaga, among others]

[meanwhile, we see Dr. Bunsen Honeydew exchanging a massive dufflebag full of comically-oversized guns for a small black briefcase (which Beaker then immediately drops several times, allowing the chickens stuffed inside to escape) while the Electric Mayhem arm-wrestle John Cena; we can see Statler & Waldorf heckling a group of angry Yakuza from their theater box in the background ]

Bell: (chimes as the door opens)

Kermit: (trudges in, visibly annoyed and wearing a black suit & tie; he has a large, cartoonish white X-shaped bandage on the left side of his forehead)

Fozzie: (wanders in behind him, loudly eating popcorn out of a little red-&-white-striped box; he is openly ogling both the scenery and the patrons)

Fozzie: Oh wow! Kermit, look! This place is great! They have EVERYTHING! Did you see the luggage carts!? (pause) Ooh, are these people all really … you-know-whats?

Kermit: Everyone has a vocation, Fozzie. These are all just regular people, just like anybody else.

Fozzie: Wow! And I guess your old college roommate John Wick told you about this place, huh? Hey, did anyone ever tell you that the two of you look totally identical? Especially with your new haircut!

Kermit: Uh, Fozzie, can you keep it down? I think people here can be a little … touchy.

Fozzie: (fondling a confused Idris Elba’s tie while looking over his shoulder to read his cellphone) Sure thing, Kermit!

Kermit: (audible sigh)

Everyone: (begins whispering as Kermit trudges across the lobby; he arrives at the empty front desk and rings the bell)

Kermit: Fozzie, will you stop that?

Fozzie: (snapping pictures of an annoyed Rihanna on his disposable camera) Sorry, Kermit! (snaps another picture)

Kermit: (grumbles, rings the bell several more times) Hello?

Gonzo & Rizzo: (pop up from behind the desk in perfect unison) Checking in, Mister the Frog?

Kermit: (even more visibly annoyed) Guys, what are you doing here?

Rizzo: We work here now!

Gonzo: Yeah! The High Table said we’re their new most-dependable employees!

Winston: (leaning out of his office) I said most disposable.

Rizzo: That’s right! And no funny-business on Continental grounds, buddy! Or I get to spray you with the fire extinguisher! The boss said so!

Winston: (leaning out of his office again) I most certainly did not.

Statler: What’s that? No funny-business!?

Waldorf: Well, that certainly won’t be difficult!

Statler & Waldorf: OHOHOHOHO!

Kermit: Look, guys, I just need a room. My house got blown up. Again.

Fozzie: Yeah, guys! Also? Kermit here is gonna avenge my death!

Kermit: Fozzie, stop telling everyone that I’m going to avenge your death. I think you really scared that poor Uber driver.

Rizzo: Right! ‘Cuz everyone knows he’s gonna avenge Piggy’s death first!

Kermit: What? Who? No, no I am not.

Gonzo: (putting on 3D glasses) Ooh, a flashback!

[flashback begins]

Miss Piggy: (dramatically flinging herself onto a bed) Oh, Kermie! I’m dying!

Kermit: Uh … well, no. I mean, I’m sure lots of people get banned for life from Shoes 4 Less, honey. It’s probably … fine?

Miss Piggy: (wailing, kicking) NO! SHOES! NOOO!

Kermit: If it bothers you so much, maybe … uh, just try not punching all the security guards in the face so much next time?

Miss Piggy: No! NO! My life is OVER! I’m buying you the cheapest dog they have and then I’m DYING!

Kermit: uhh

Miss Piggy: (wailing)

Kermit: (slowly backing out the door) … Okay well I’m gonna go fold some socks and I’ll leave you to it.

Miss Piggy: (suddenly sitting up) And you better not kiss any other beautiful women after I’m dead, frog.

Kermit:

Miss Piggy: (dramatically slams herself back on the bed; wailing resumes)

[flashback ends]

Fozzie: And I’m the dog!

Rizzo: Cool!

Kermit: No you are not.

Gonzo: Ooh, that was a great flashback! Can we see the part where you learned karate and high-speed stunt-driving?

Kermit: No! And I’m not avenging anyone’s death!

Rizzo: Ohhh, right, right, right! Sure, sure, I gotcha! You’re “not” avenging “anyone’s” “death”! Of course, why didn’t you say so!? I got just the guy!

Gonzo: (pulls out a megaphone) Attention, all Continental guests! Attention, all scary Continental guests! Sommelier to the front desk, please! Sommelier to the front desk! The world’s most dangerous frog is now purchasing several very large guns!

Kermit: (visible anger)

Swedish Chef: (crashes though a door behind the front desk, stirring a giant pot full of bullets that fly everywhere) Hurdy yurdy, Meester dee Frog! Needin’ der guns fer de pewty-pew, shooty-boom-boom?

Rizzo: He wants to know who the target is.

Gonzo: Tell him it’s me! I wanna see what he would recommend!

Swedish Chef: (begins rummaging under the desk; pulls out a bazooka, a katana, a spike-covered accordion, and a big black cartoon bomb — already lit — with the word ‘BOöMBb’ written on it in giant white letters) Hokey-hinkey Mistier dee Froög! Skirben der moo frinkie shootie all der baddies, ya?

Rizzo: He says it comes with a bayonet and three laser-sights, but it’ll cost you extra.

Fozzie: (playing with nunchucks) Oh wow, Kermit! You could probably “not avenge” the whole city with all this stuff!

Gonzo: (brandishing flamethrower) Or the entire nation of Portugal! Twice!

Kermit: (exasperated groan) Look, I’m not “not avenging” anyone! And especially not the nation of Portugal!

Gonzo: Not even once?

Kermit: NO.

Rizzo: (tossing several ninja stars over his shoulder) Pfft. Not with that attitude, you’re not!

Kermit: Now are you gonna rent me a hotel room, or is that the one thing this place doesn’t have?

Daniel Craig: (standing behind Kermit) Ah, I beg your pardon? I am ALSO checking in? I was told that there were several, ah … dozen murders in need of investigation?

Kenneth Branagh: Ah! Oui, and I was told zee same thing?

Benedict Cumberbatch & Robert Downey Jr: (simultaneously) As was I. (scowl at one another)

Scooter: (arriving from nowhere) If you’ll follow me, gentleman? I’m afraid you’re in our “committing” section; the “solving” section is right over here.

(crowd of detectives departs)

Fozzie: (takes several photos of them)

Keanu Reeves: (walks up wearing a cheap fake mustache and glasses) Um, excuse me? I would ALSO like to check in; my name is, uh … Chlon. Uh … Chlon Ww… Glick. Chlon Glick. I’ve never been here before.

Rizzo: You again? Get out of here, buddy! This place is only for real cool guys with tattoos and tragic pathos! Go be a nobody loser some place else!

Keanu: (leaves)

Rizzo: Jeez, what is with that guy?

Gonzo: I like him! He taught me a cool pen trick! Watch! (jams pens in his “ears”)

Scooter: Ahem! Your room is ready, Mister the Frog. You’re in our “tortured path of self-destructive revenge” suite!

Gonzo: (now with like thirty pens jammed into his face) Ooh, that’s the best one!

Scooter: No, you’re thinking of the “self-destructive path of torturous revenge” suite. This one’s a dump.

Fozzie: Does it have a minibar?

Scooter: It does … not. And it’s next to two different ice machines. (checks clipboard) Make that three.

Fozzie: That’s okay. Is the bed comfy?

Scooter: Not particularly. And you’re definitely going to get attacked in the middle of the night by this guy. (gestures at Crazy Harry)

Crazy Harry: (waves axe around with low, ominous chuckle)

Fozzie: Ooooh, fancy! (snaps a picture)

Kermit: Look, do you have any rooms that aren’t weird horrible death-traps?

Scooter: Uh … probably not, but I guess I can check? You’re welcome to hang out in the lobby while you wait.

Fozzie: (picking up a bar menu) Kermit? Can we order some onion rings?

Rizzo: Yep! And there’s a running gun-battle every hour, on the hour!

Gonzo: (strapping on a helmet, picking up a chicken) Be sure to stay for the evening show; it’s completely different than the afternoon matinee! No spoilers, but I’ll probably die!

Kermit: (grumbles, walks to the bar)

#the muppets #john wick #not gaming related #feed me to the ai daddy #mickey mouse gave elon gonorrhea

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wheretheharekissesthefox · 1 year ago

Text

Tav's sex parade – Chapter 4: Where the sun kisses the sea (Gale x Tav)

(Trigger warning (18+): graphic description of sex, smut, gentle slow sex, coitus a tergo, fluff, the feels)

To avoid confusion: In one of my other fanfics Halsin and Tav had named the owlbear cup Naïlo, which means 'night breeze' in the Elven language.

Karlach’s and Wyll’s faith and Tav’s promise to them are based on one of my other fics.

Tav sat in the middle of Gale’s living room, cross-legged, strumming her lute, surrounded by papers and ink. She faced the open double-door window which led onto the small terrace, towards the sea. The evening sun shone right through the window, bathing the room in golden light. Tara, Scratch and Naïlo were resting on the carpet and pillows, listening to Tav's warm voice. She sang uncharacteristically high-pitched and softly.

"Down, down by the river,

where the ancient trees shiver,

are sleepy bears and night orchids in caves.

Ruby-red diamonds and purple waves

swirl farther down into water, deep,

where the winged beasts sleep."

Smiling, Gale lingered in the doorframe, not wanting to disturb his beloved's streak of creativity. He'd read and dabbled enough in poetry to understand the symbolism of her lyrics.

Tav stopped singing, but kept humming the melody that reminded him of a lullaby.

"Fire, fire, desire, hmm... Blade... shade? Hells, bells. Metal heart... part, apart..."

The bard stopped mumbling and frowned at her ink-smeared notes.

"Metal heart, forged in fire, found the blade of her desire?" Gale suggested after a moment of silence.

Tav turned around with a smile.

"Not bad. Maybe I'll use it. Thanks for the input."

She quickly scribbled it down. Gale finally walked closer and remarked: "It's wonderful to see you compose again. I missed watching you weave your own kind of magic."

"Mh, poetic as always, love," Tav smirked. "I thought while you and Astarion work through every single book in Waterdeep, Shadowheart helps your mother with her clients, and Halsin does his part to search for answers, I can make myself useful otherwise. You all keep your noses to the grindstone to find a way to get Karlach and Wyll out of Avernus, meanwhile, I go and make some money. We could use it, to be honest."

"You don't have to do this, if you don't want to," Gale told her.

"That's sweet, but I want to pull my weight. As you know, I taught myself to read and write, and I'm still very slow at reading. 'So slow that the bookworms eat away the paper in front of my eyes', as you've put it so politely."

Ashamed, Gale lowered his gaze.

"I'm sorry, that had been tactless of me. I shouldn't have said it."

"Well," she replied, with a shrug. "It's true at least. Thus, I'll do what I can do best: sing and perform. I miss it, honestly; the crude tavern goers, the passed-out drunkards, the strongly-perfumed working girls, the ill-tempered tavern keepers... I had quite the life before I've met you and got all boring and tame."

At that, Gale barked a laugh.

"You and tame? That fits as well together as oil and water! Don't worry, you definitely didn't lose your spark."

"Good," Tav grinned. She got up to kiss and hug him. Then, she looked at him mischievously. "I might need a reminder of my wild side."

Gale glanced towards the animals and cleared his throat. Tara snickered and herded the dog and the owlbear out of the living room.

"Thank you, Tara. You're a gem."

"I'd prefer if you'd show your gratitude with a big plate of Beholder jerky instead of polite words, Mister Dekarios," the tressym teased.

Gale bit his lip to keep himself from laughing.

"Of course, Tara. I'll remind 'Mister Dekarios' tomorrow morning," Tav filled in for him, amused.

The tressym let out a satisfied purr before pushing the door close, and Tav chuckled.

"Tara's rather handy. I know why you love her so much."

"Hm," smirked the addressed.

He leaned down to kiss the bard again and she wrapped her arms around him.

"I have an idea," Tav all but purred.

"I'm scared," Gale smiled.

She snorted a laugh and kissed him again. Then, she got up on her tiptoes to whisper in his ear.

"I want you to take me on the terrace. I want to do it while the sun goes down and witnesses our act of passion."

The wizard turned crimson, spluttering: "You want to do it out there?! Where everyone can see us?"

"Yes," grinned Tav. "I want to overlook the water while you take me from behind."

"Gods..." Gale wanted to hide somewhere. "That's rather... feral."

The bard grinned devilishly while playing with his hair.

"As I said; I need a reminder that I'm not boring and tame."

"I see why you get along so well with our druid," the wizard muttered. "Holy..."

Tav put on her best show, fluttering her lashes at him with a pout.

"You don't want to? I'm devastated."

"You don't look devastated," Gale retorted amused. "You look like the cat that got the canary."

"Do I get the canary?" Tav smirked and Gale sighed.

"I'm not sure. Doing it from behind... I can't see your face that way and it feels impersonal."

"Are you truly worried about this? We know each other for a year now, and I trust you – in and out of the bedroom. You said it yourself; there are infinite ways to be intimate. So, why not this way too?"

"Alright, let's try this. Anything for my insufferable bard, I guess."

He kissed her again before they moved onto the terrace. Tav leaned her back against the wooden railing, pulled Gale into another kiss, and wrapped her arms around his neck.

"You stole my lavender soap again," he remarked, no heat behind it.

"I just borrowed it – as always," she replied cheekily.

"Mhm. 'Borrowed'."

"Stop complaining and take your pants off. If we wait any longer, the sun will be gone."

Gale sighed, but took a step back to doff his trousers and underwear. Tav did the same, kicking everything into the living room carelessly.

"Come here."

She pulled him into another kiss. This time, it was much sloppier and less tender. The bard turned around, gripped the railing of the terrace, and spread her legs wider.

"Gods... look at you," Gale muttered, flustered. "Do you have no shame?"

"No. Not when I want something. And what I want now, is you in me. So hurry up. Please."

Gale had mercy on her (and himself, let's be honest here), crowded in on her, kissed her neck, and entered her slowly. Tav arched her back into it, panting. The wizard placed his hands on hers and buried his face in the side of her neck, breathing right into her ear. The bard shuddered, it was perfect. Gale's thrusts were slow but deep and precise. He knew how to make it good for her. Tav moaned and tilted her head more to the side to give him more space to kiss her and pant into her ear, while they watched the glary, red sun vanish behind the sea.

"Where's your infamous verbosity now?" Gale asked lowly. "Tell me what you see, in all your flowery words."

Tav moaned and tried her damn best to articulate the scenery.

"I- ah! I see how the sun kisses the sea. The sun... ngh... sinks into the sea, gently like a mh... lover. I see how... ah... flaming red... makes love... to blue to create... purple. Aah... Gale... please."

The addressed hummed and used his elegant, deftly fingers to massage her clitoris. Moaning, Tav dropped her head between her arms and arched her back more, pushing her buttocks into her partner's lap who's breath hitched.

"F- fuck! Please!" the bard sobbed, desperate for release. Panting, Gale leaned his head against her shoulder, flicked his wrist over her pubic mound, and climaxed with a guttural moan. He didn't stop moving his fingers though and shortly after, Tav followed him over the edge noisily. They stayed where they were, panting into the young night. The sky had turn light-blue and the first stars were visible.

Tav sighed and twisted her torso around to kiss Gale gently. He slowly pulled out so that she was able to face him fully.

"You were never this loud before," Tav remarked.

"I'm not the noisy type," Gale answered.

"But you were today. Why? Was it the semi-public setting that turned you on?"

"No! It just felt... I don't know... more intense? I've never - hm. I've never took anyone from behind before."

"And you liked it that much?"

"I don't know. Maybe," Gale muttered, slightly uncomfortable.

"Well..." Tav sighed and pulled him into a hug. "I liked it too. It was really nice. Something else for once. We can do it again if you wish."

"I'd like that," Gale admitted and blushed.

"Great," Tav smiled and kissed him again.

The cool evening breeze from the sea caressed them while they stood on the terrace and kept kissing each other tenderly.

#baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #fanfic #gale x tav #gale #gale dekarios #gale of waterdeep #tav #tara #tara the tressym #scratch #owlbear cup #naïlo #smut #mind the trigger warning

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