#no one else gets the exquisite pleasure of killing you but me | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

twistedbloodstain · 2 years ago

Text

vincent de gramont x assistant!reader: if my wishes came true it would've been you | a glimpse of the marquis.

plot: the one where the marquis isn’t so sure about you.

warnings: stalking, slight mention of violence, more stalking, staring, soft ooc marquis, invasion of privacy

masterlist

vincent de gramont. the marquis. unforgiving. determined. capable.

he is a man that exudes power by simply waving his hand or by the snap of his fingers. he does not need anyone. not when he has all the power and influence of an entire country. all he needs is himself, no one else. people are a liability, because of what we can feel for them. the moment you let them in. you start to do things that you shouldn’t, but you do it anyway for the mercurial high of their company. but in fact they don’t bring you up, they bring you down. of course, the marquis doesn’t do such practices, he can’t risk such vulnerability, if he is vulnerable then he is weak and the world be fucking damned before he let’s what he feel for someone tear him down.

a pessimist mindset. yes but why does it matter? he can’t even name someone who cares for him, at least someone who isn’t paid to do it. they don’t want his company, they want his money and power that he exercises over this world. the men want his coin and the women want the same or a night of pleasure, he might welcome that invitation if he isn’t busy enough.

there are three kinds of people in the world. those who have something to live for, those who have something to die for, and those who have something to kill for.

“oh, oh…poor vincent de gramont. who would search for him if he went missing? who would mourn his rotting corpse as it’s buried six feet underground?”

a mockery and threat of a rising drug lord when he had refused the terms of a deal. it annoyed him, as much as he didn’t expect it to get into his head. because why would he need to have that? soon he had the fool’s tongue pulled out by one of his men, he doesn’t let such insignificant things occupy his mind. but to answer his question there is one who would.

his assistant. that’s who, mildly amused with that thought. if i paid her more than enough my procession would be like the queen of fucking england. ironically, because his assistant falls into the three kinds of people and wants his money. at least she actually works for it. for once, the wages he’d given were actually worth her value, they weigh the same in a scale and he doesn’t feel forced to pay her that much because she gets the job done with exquisiteness.

when he’d first hired her, he thought she might be too good to be true. either she was a bragging and incompetent woman or a vying fusspot whose words are truthful. he doesn’t mind a perfectionist as long as she gets the job done. however good she might portray her character to him, he was still cautious around her.

this could be a calculated spy sent out take everything from me. if so, she might as well bloody think again. no one can rob me of what’s mine.

possible threats imagined or real must be carefully and quickly dealt with. so the first two months she works for him, he keeps his eyes on her. he has her followed to her home, which isn’t so bad but not really to his taste. but since she rarely gets home to manage personal matters with the endless pile of work he’s tasked her with there’s not much to be reported to him. just the mundane life of his assistant and her cat. he also has her background checked and it’s nothing malicious, truly just someone whose motives are sincere and harmless.

but it’s not enough. there has to be something. when she isn’t in her home, she’s in his mansion. the lavish and spacious place that always seems to awe her.

2:00 AM

a pair of guards open the large decorated chunky door for him, he struts through. quite exhausted from his previous affair that took several hours, something about an assassin getting out of the fold. he checks his watch and a slight scowl appears on his face, annoyed that meeting has taken too long for a good night’s sleep. he had a big day tomorrow, hordes of meetings and an opera in the afternoon. he’ll have to get up early if he wants to witness the entire spectacle.

“bring the car tomorrow around 6 AM and move the meeting with Allaire around-” vincent orders but pauses when he realizes the click of your heels were no longer heard in his ears.

he turns around and sees you motionless. you were occupied with gazing at the new painting that had arrived earlier that morning. he could sense the gears in your head turning, taking in the artistic beauty of the masterpiece. he wonders if just like him you appreciate historic works of art that preside in The Louvre or perhaps you like a more architect approach-

christ. what is he thinking, he’s not even sure of who they are and he’s interested in a pastime she might have? he swallows that thought down and buries it behind his mind.

by the sudden snap of his fingers, he snaps you out of your gaze. you face him rattled and a slight worry occupies your face when you realize you’ve been caught slacking.

“i’m so sorry sir. that won’t happen again, what time did you want the car brought?” you immediately apologize, saving your excuses from him. still bashful from the ogling you’ve done, you don’t meet his stare.

he knows you’re just as tired as him, you’ve been stuck with him for the entire day, organizing his schedule and arranging appointments. he decides to not chastise her for the momentary indolence and let it pass. although he is partly pleased you still try to keep your wits sharp and alert. christ, what in the world is he saying? it must be the lack of sleep, yes that’s it.

“bring the car tomorrow around 6 AM and move the meeting with Allaire around 7:30 AM. lastly, get up early. i have an important matter for you to attend to.” vincent says again, much more firmly this time with a harsh tone, a slightly futile attempt since his voice partly falls flat from fatigue.

“yes sir.” you answer straight away, jotting down what he just said into that little purple notebook.

he turns away from you and walks away to his room.

he has her spied in the mansion. every movement she makes in his home is reported by the guards and staff. rather unfortunate with the latter, since you’ve grown close with some of the staff and half of them inform you of your activities. what they’d reported was not what he was looking for. just filled with casual personal stuff and ventures he’d ordered you to do.

with all that extensive efforts settled, he feels somewhat assured that she won’t turn against him. now he just needs to keep her on his side, and to sense any form of betrayal that might cook while she’s in his employ. he instructs his men to halt from following her home but still let’s the staff inform him of her bustle from time to time. how does he keep her on his side? pressure and observation.

he gives her labors that are sometimes beyond her pay grade and leaves her alone to do it. it confounds her, very much. they both know this is not what they’d agreed to but surprise, surprise. she delivers as ordered, little to no flaws. he observes her reactions, to see if a recipe of hatred was cooking in the cauldron.

he keeps his eyes on you. the both of you just got out from a meeting with a drug lord that had rather difficult terms and conditions he wouldn’t agree to but he entertained them nonetheless for the sake of testing you. since the job fell on you to deliver those terms and conditions.

you keep writing down notes on that journal, he reads some of what you’ve written which are familiar to him.

“huh. still not faltering are you? i wonder when you might raise this matter.” he thought.

your posture is not as perfect as it had been when you greeted him earlier in the morning. the late night seems enough explanation for that. the inside of the car is quiet except for the engine of the car and the rustling of your pencil on paper.

ever since he started giving them to you he hadn’t heard a word of complaint. he’s not really sure what he expected. a bitch fit about how you can’t do it? a conversation about raising your salary? a rant about how he’s being unfair? he’s dubious about the result he was searching for but he should know. he is the marquis. everything must have a reason, had he expected all three so he might have a reason to fire you? maybe. but why would he fire you? you’ve proven yourself capable and competitive. there is almost no one to your like, only a fool would do that. why does he want to get rid of you for no reason?

perhaps it’s because of what you do for him. he knows you’re in it for the money but…but that unwavering loyalty you’ve offered up to him. does it mean more? or is it just something he’s paying for? an even exchange for the both of you. god, prostitutes seemed easier to handle than this, at least with them he knew their motives but with you…he can’t. you’re background is as pristine as water and everything you’ve done is to further his power. what had he done to deserve it? maybe it is true, maybe. there is no amount of money that can give that level of loyalty, even his highest paid employees and previous assistants weren’t even that good. oh, why? why,why,why,why-

why do you look at him as if he’s the rarest thing on earth? why do you follow him blindly with no hesitation? why do you listen to his words clinging to them as if it’s good as gospel?

he snaps out of his inner turmoil and notices that you’ve looked up at him. you’ve caught him staring, he’s slightly abashed because he’d been vulnerable with himself for a moment, and it’s because of you. for a minute he thought you might’ve been genuine to him, that everything you do is because you want to, not for any materialistic gain. he doesn’t show his disappointment. he keeps his face plain and cold and turns away from you, facing the window. he can see the glass pyramid from The Louvre, his mind begins to drift.

you gullible fool, there is no one in this world that can give you that. you know this-you know this. why do you still yearn for that? there are three kinds of people in the world. those who have something to live for, those who have something to die for, and those who have something to kill for and you are not one of them. no matter how much you want it you cannot be one of them. you are the marquis. you are the marquis. you must be untouchable. what you feel cannot be weaponized against you. do you understand? she does not feel anything for you. there is nothing but you and yourself. in the long run, she won’t matter. when you’ve grown more powerful than today what she’s given to you will be nothing but specks of dust.

that’s how he viewed you. after those two months, he treats you the same with no efforts that may seem arbitrary an attempt to veil what he’s felt for you. keeping it professional you might say, he screws it through his head, that he doesn’t matter to you, that it doesn’t mean more.

one day it changes.

almost two years after that car ride to The Louvre.

you take a bullet for him.

but you take much more than that.

author’s note: welp, that’s part three! i found it difficult to choose which pov for part two, idk if I should keep the marquis’ thoughts ambiguous or just throw this in. I had this dilemma in class and decided to go for reader’s pov, it turned out nice anyways feel free to share your thoughts!

taglist: @dcgoddess @1mawh0re @davvydobrik

part one part two part four part five

#vincent de gramont #marquis de gramont #vincent de gramont x reader #marquis de gramont x reader #bill skarsgard fanfiction #bill skarsgard #bill skarsgard x reader #bill skarsgård #fanfiction #one shot #john wick #john wick 4 #keanu reeves #fanfic #obsessive #yandere #bill skarsgard gif #bill skarsgard imagine

668 notes · View notes

poppy-metal · 11 months ago

Note

OK SO. I just started Gen V (already know what happens, my coworker gave me a scene-by-scene description after he watched it) and tbh I'm a Cate main BUT as bigender I fucking adore the rep and I'm also down bad for Jordan so. As a little thanks for all the content you make and I adore, here's a lil blurb about fwb!Jordan being a liiiil possessive & toxic (a particular favorite combo of mine):

(⁠ꏿ⁠﹏⁠ꏿ⁠;⁠)

"What the hell do you think you're doing?"

You startle as the door to the bathroom is slammed open with enough strength to dent the tile and only relax fractionally as you see it's Jordan standing there.

"Right now, making sure my dress doesn't stain."

You walk to the door but they don't move, still blocking your only way out.

"What are you doing entertaining someone like him?"

There's enough venom in their voice to kill someone, but it only makes you scoff when you realize what they're talking about.

"Are you serious? You're the one that said we were 'just having fun', so if I talk or decide to 'have fun' with someone else, that's none of your business."

Their gaze darkens before you're even done talking and they step forward, forcibly making you move back as they lock the door behind them. Even as they crowd you against the sink you can't help but notice how attractive they are in a dark red suit, the slicked back hair letting you see the frown in their face while they cage you between their arms and the sink.

"That's where you're wrong, darling. Everything you do is my business." You gasp as they press closer and feel the strap they're wearing against your hip. "I'll just have to show you no one else could possible be as much fun as me, huh?"

By the time their hand makes it under your panties you're embarrassingly wet, and they can't help but moan as their fingers sink in your pussy without resistance. They're nipping and licking at your neck while they finger you, your whimpers echoing beautifully. You're close to an orgasm when they pull their hand out and you groan at the sudden emptiness.

"Nooo- What-" Your question is interrupted by them opening their slacks and immediately letting the head of the strap rest against your cunt.

"What's the matter, sweetheart, need something?"

They're obviously enjoying themselves as they rub on the slick, loving the way you hold onto their arms to try and get more friction.

"Please, Jordan, I need you- please, I need you inside me."

The last syllable is still in your mouth when you're turned around so you face the mirror and you can see the pleasure bloom across your face when Jordan presses into you, splitting your pussy open just like you begged them to. You're quick to reach the edge again, the sensations of a bruising grip on your thighs pairing exquisitely with the way they're rubbing into you with every thrust, getting lost in the way they make eye contact with you on the mirror as they pick up the pace, some strands of their perfectly slicked back hair starting to fall around their face, framing it so well it should be in a museum.

They slap your ass, enjoying the way it makes you whimper and fall forward at the sensation, their hands kneading and spreading your cheeks and almost making their mouth water at just how pretty you are. Jordan's thumb rubs circles over your puckered ass until the top of their finger slips in and the unexpected sensation is what brings you right over the edge. They keep fucking you through your orgasm, though their rhythm falters as they stare in the mirror, already commiting every detail in your expression to memory.

"That was beautiful, darling."

You feel them move and hear the faint clicking of the harness and let your head rest on your arms assuming they're done, only to shoot up again when you feel a bigger frame enveloping. You didn't even notice Jordan shifting, but the reflection in the mirror doesn't lie, and neither does the way they're pressed against your back.

"What do you think, can we have some more fun yet?"

All air leaves your lungs in a whoosh as you feel their cock rubbing against your pussy, but also the way they adjust their strap so it lines up with your ass.

Obviously, the fun is just beginning.

(⁠ꏿ⁠﹏⁠ꏿ⁠;⁠)

- ✴️ (if I may claim an emoji)

shit made me have to get up and look out the window

#ask #✴️ anon #u...... i got words for u.....#the strap still being on when they shift.... heavens to betsy..#dear god #jordan li smut #jordan li x reader

99 notes · View notes

sil-writes-fiction-too · 5 months ago

Text

Twisted Little Games

Ascended Astarion x OC!Tav

Genre: pure angst. Dark content ahead

CW: depictions of physical abuse, abusive relationship, bodily harm, suggestive content

A/N: This is my entry for Day 21 of June of Doom. The prompt, this time around, is "stairs" ( @juneofdoom ). I dedicate this piece to @wolfhunter89, without whom this probably wouldn't have existed in the first place. Thank you for allowing me to write about Arwen and to put her through hell whenever my lizard brain says it's time for angst. This is for our Bad Ending series :,)

Blood red eyes stared back at him through the mirror as he admired himself, turning his body and his face this way and that. Gods, he would never get tired of seeing his own reflection. Especially when clad in such exquisite and expensive clothes. So beautiful, so regal, so... perfect. And the screams of agony coming from somewhere deep inside his palace just tied everything together in a perfect little bow. Sounded like dinner. He chuckled to himself at that thought, as if there was anything to laugh about. Well... there was for him, at least, and nothing else really mattered, did it?

“Ugh, beautiful...” he uttered to himself as he turned once again, almost mesmerized by his own appearance. Ah, but marveling at his own beauty wasn't the only use for his mirrors, no... Staring at his reflection had a way of helping him put his thoughts into order. Why, some of his best ideas popped up while he was standing in front of the beautifully framed looking glass. The events of the last few months replayed in his mind one by one as he fixed the embroidered collar of his shirt. It sickened him to admit it, but he had been feeling... less than perfect, for quite some time after the defeat of the Absolute.

Arwen's betrayal was something he could easily face when all of his energies were focused on surviving and putting an end to the elder brain's grand design. When he could still see her every day even if she refused to speak to him. He found her incredibly childish. She was just having a temper tantrum and refusing to see that what he did was for them. Well, sure, it was first and foremost for him, but he thought they were a package deal! Instead she looked at him as if he was the one to betray her. The gull of that woman! Still, he thought it would pass, that she would see to reason and crawl back to him once she had time to think it all over. But no, her decision was final and she did not care how wrong it was. Once the Absolute was defeated she made it more than clear to him that she never wanted to see him again. And she kept her word... at least for a little while.

He knew she couldn't stay away for too long. Gods, she was obsessed with him. Never mind that she came with a group of adventurers ready to kill off his spawns, or that she looked genuinely surprised when she found out her targets were his little puppets. The look of hatred on her face meant nothing when he could feel the tension rolling off of her body in waves as soon as she finally saw him again... As soon as he was close to her again. It meant even less when, each time they met after that, her threats and attempts to end his life were accompanied by nights of pure, unbridled passion. The hatred-fueled lust between them inevitably guiding them from the battlefield to the bedroom, sometimes his, most times hers, time and time again. What was once soft and sensual had turned into a fight in itself. Bodies entangling with each other between the sheets, rolling over one another in a battle for dominance while nails and teeth left nasty marks on pale skin, and hips ground down harshly to carve a path of blinding pleasure and mind-numbing bliss into the blood-thirsty loathing they both felt for each other. It was only a matter of time before she would be his again.

And his she became.

He had offered his gift to her time and time again after each of their meetings, but that was usually when she would get up from bed and take her leave or send him away. She was adamant in her refusal, so the situation became clear to him rather quickly... Asking her just wasn't going to work. And why would he even waste more of his time asking? He could simply take. He didn't need permission to do anything, not anymore. If only she was smart enough to accept his gracious offer this would've been much less unpleasant, but once again she had to do things her way. All it took was one bite. Really, she should've expected him to do something like this. In his mind, he suspected she did... and yet she still couldn't stop him. How pathetic. She even had the audacity to get angry at him after, to curse at him and try to claw at his face as her body changed in front of his self-satisfied gaze. She would learn to love him again.

But her adjustment period was taking quite long, huh? A little huff escaped Astarion's lips as he placed his hands on his hips. Stubborn, stubborn girl... No matter how many times he punished her, how many times he tried to break her resolve, she kept defying him in any way she could, which weren't many, considering the bond of blood they now shared. However, credit should be given where credit is due, and Arwen had been behaving particularly well that week. She had back-talked to him only twice and it had taken her much less time than usual to follow his orders, even if it meant hurting an innocent. Perhaps she was finally starting to realize what her place was, and it was with him, standing obediently by his side. His consort.

It's as these thoughts swirled in his mind that a metallic glint flashed through the mirror. His sharp eyes narrowed and he whirled around, catching Arwen's wrist in mid air and slamming her face-first against the mirror with a growl. The glass cracked under her reflection-less visage and her dagger clattered to the ground when her grip loosened in surprise. The shock and the sudden pain made her yelp in a way he had never heard from her. It made his skin burn hot.

“Tsk, tsk, tsk... I knew you were behaving all too well. Oh, pet... You didn't think that just because you have no reflection I don't know you're there, did you? You disappoint me... You used to be an infallible assassin.” He hissed in her ear with a scowl, holding her arms behind her back with a tight, bruising grip. “Did you seriously think you could kill me? How stupid can you be...?” He gently nuzzled his nose against her neck, ghosting his lips over the scars he left there a long time ago.

As the moment of fear passed, Arwen's face hardened again, twisting in an expression of pure hatred and disgust, laced with disappointment for her failed attempt. When all her more elaborate attempts hadn't worked she thought a simpler approach might do the trick instead... but she was wrong. And there was no telling what Astarion would do to her then. “Let me go you bastard.” She spat out, her voice laced with venom as she struggled against his grip. Not so long ago she would've easily knocked him on the ground. She should've killed him when they first met like she had wanted to.

He chuckled darkly, tightening his grip instead. “No, I don't think I will, pet... I will let you go when I damn well feel like it. Just to be curious, what was your plan after killing me? You were gonna leave and... what then? What life can you possibly hope to live out there? There's no tadpole to save you now... There's nothing for you out there but pain and suffering, darling. Only I can give you the life you deserve, do you still not get it?” He turned her around and grabbed her chin firmly, staring into her eyes as he held her close to his body in a way that made it impossible for her to escape. Perhaps the one thing he regretted about turning her was not being able to look into her green eyes anymore. Red looked lovely on her, naturally, but that green... It haunted his dreams and filled him with bitter nostalgia.

She scoffed at his audacity, curling her lips in disgust and almost snarling at him. Unfortunately for her, the sight of her fangs only excited him more. “This life is already all pain and suffering, Astarion! I'd rather take my chances out there than stay stuck in here, rotting away with you!” She trembled with rage, balling her hands into fists as she stared up at him.

Once upon a time her words would've cut deep into him, and he might've even felt shame over his actions... but now? The only thing he felt was disdain and anger. How dare she? After all he had done for her, for them! Sometimes he wondered if she even was worth being kept alive. It would've been so easy to snuff her out like a candle. She was no more than a traitor, right? But when he looked down at her, he saw the rarest gem, his precious treasure. His to claim, his to keep. She didn't get to come into his life, have him fall in love with her and then leave him when he finally claimed the power he deserved! No, she had sealed her fate when they had given themselves to each other. She had claimed she could handle him even at his worst, had she not? She couldn't take it all back now just because she didn't get to have her way! She was his... and he had no intention to let her go. Still, the anger boiled inside him and the desire to punish her grew stronger. So she thought she could survive on her own outside of the palace? They would see about that...

“Is that so...? You seem confident in your ability, don't you?” He chuckled in amusement, almost cooing at her mockingly. “Fine... Let's play a game, what do you say?” Astarion grabbed her by her hair, tugging firmly at her blond tresses as he dragged her outside of the room. Her complaints fell on deaf ears as he walked through the corridors of the palace. “If you think life outside of the palace is so great then why don't you give it a try, mh? See how far you get before you crawl back to me.”

Arwen looked up at Astarion with wide eyes, completely taken off guard by his words. “What...?”

An amused smirk pulled at his lips, and he stopped right atop the flight of stairs that led to the main entrance. “I'll loosen up your leash, pet. I'll let you get a little taste of that 'freedom' you keep going on about. I'll give you half a day, and then I'll come get you.” His tone turned sinister right at the end, his eyes glinting maliciously in the darkness. “If you're even still alive, that is...” he said with a chuckle. “Half a day... and then you better pray you hid your tracks well enough.” The clear threat in his words made a shiver run down the half-elf's back. Before she could respond, a scream was ripped from her throat as Astarion threw her down the entire flight of stairs, tossing her as if she was nothing more than a bag of trash. A searing pain shot up her leg, earning him another shriek as her ankle smashed against one of the marble steps and she rolled to the feet of the stairs. She cursed loudly then, holding her injured ankle as she let out a sob. She looked up at him with an accusing glare even through the thick tears that were threatening to spill from her eyes.

He all but laughed at her, placing a hand on his hip. “Well, I wouldn't want to give you too much of an advantage, darling, be sensible.” He said matter-of-factly as he stared down at her in amusement. “Now go, before I change my mind.” he added sharply.

Despite the pain, Arwen scrambled to her feet and limped out of the palace as fast as she could, now wanting to get away from him even more than a few moments prior. She could make it out there, she was sure of it. Even if it meant spending the rest of her life on the run, anything was better than being held prisoner in that hell-house. She had to make this chance count.

Astarion looked on as his consort stumbled out the doors into the streets, his face now void of all emotion as he silently counted down from ten. She had really thought he would let her escape just like that...? When had his love become so naive? He had no intention of losing sight of her for half a day, no... He would follow her from the shadows, observing her following moves until the time he allowed her was up. Who knows... this might've proven entertaining. Not to mention he was already thinking of the crestfallen face she would make when he'd step out from the shadows to take her back. What a delicious thought... almost as tantalizing as the thought of what would happen once he finally brought her back home. Perhaps playing cat and mouse with her would make her disobedience worth it.

17 notes · View notes

theewokingdead · 2 years ago

Text

Focus - Joel Miller x f!Reader

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!Reader

Rating: Mature

Summary: Joel helps you get the one thing you need.

Warnings: Fingering, difficulty orgasming

Word Count: 600+

A/N: I told myself that Joel is too intimidating to write, but here I am. This was inspired by a cutscene in the game where Joel tells someone to focus and it sounds way too sexy to ignore.

Masterlist

“Look at me, sweetheart.”

Fluttering your eyes open, you meet his, dark with need.

“I want to see you when you come for me.”

“Joel, please,” you whine, bucking your hips as he grounds his palm against that sweet spot. A trickle of sweat rolls down your neck and you feel every inch of its path, your skin hypersensitive from all the stimulation. You can’t handle any more of this exquisite torture. How long has it been? Minutes? Hours? It feels like too long to keep trying.

“I-I don’t think I can,” you sigh in frustration.

Joel leans in and licks your nipple, his fingers easing from you, gently stroking around your clit, barely touching it. The loss of sensation makes you both sigh in relief and whine in frustration.

“Yes, you can, baby girl,” he reassures you, his lips moving to your neck. “I’ve got as long as it takes. Just relax and let me make you feel good.”

You nod, closing your eyes once more.

He slips his middle and ring fingers inside you, gently stroking you while his thumb circles your clit. There’s no rush to his motions, simply slow, steady strokes. You arch into his touch, moving your hips with the strokes of his fingers, trying to force your body to relax and mind to focus.

“Eyes on me,” Joel gently commands, and your eyes flutter open once more, meeting his gaze. “Focus right here. Don’t think about nothin’ else except comin’ all over my fingers. Got it?”

You nod once more, forcing yourself to breathe low and steady as you hold his gaze. A whimper escapes your lips. It’s too much and not enough all at once.

“Faster. Please,” you beg, opening your thighs wider.

He makes a low rumbling sound in his throat. His two fingers spread you open enough to take a third, pressing hard into you. Whimpering once more, you shift, giving him deeper access. He moves faster, shifting his thumb and pressing into your clit.

“Joel, please,” you whine, dipping your head back and curling your nails into his forearm, the pleasure inside you so intense that you need to put the energy somewhere.

“Hey, look at me. Look at me, baby. Right here. I’ve got you. You’re gonna come for me. Alright? I’m gonna make you come.”

“Shit!” You nod furiously. “Yes,” you squeak.

You want to come more than you’ve ever wanted anything in life. Every stroke of his finger is rougher, more demanding, more incredible.

The tension coils inside you, the pleasure intensifies, and with a sense of shock, you feel yourself about to orgasm.

“You’re doin’ so well, baby,” Joel coos, his voice a low, deep rumble. “C’mon. Give it to me.”

Your eyes go wide. “Joel! Fuck!” you gasp before finally letting go.

“There it is. Atta girl,” he praises lowly.

Your vision blurs as you break open, screaming, your body arching up and fucking his fingers as hard as you can. You feel yourself clench down on him, squeezing him tight like a vice, but he doesn’t stop the motion of his fingers. He helps you ease down from the tension, you going boneless beside him, melting into the mattress.

“Jesus, fuck, Joel,” you pant, trying to catch your breath. “You trying to kill me?”

He chuckles lowly. “Feelin’ better?”

“Yeah… Yeah, thank you. Fuck.”

“Thank you,” he responds, having enjoyed the view.

Chuckling, you roll over and lay a hand on his bare chest. “I think it’s time I return the favor.”

#joel miller #joel miller x you #joel miller x reader #joel miller tlou #pedro pascal #pedro pascal character fanfiction #pedro pascal characters #tlou #tlou fanfic #tlou fanfiction #hbo tlou #hbo the last of us #pedro pascal fandom #pedrostories #catie writes

268 notes · View notes

soracities · 2 years ago

Note

hellooo idk if u still want this but i've translated the poem its not my best work honestly but this is as far as i am getting with it so yeah here u go ( i am quite confused on who ended up being the true author so idk who to credit this for lol)

Grievance

My heart is sick, and the sickness is wasting me away

whatever might cure me?

The curse, o the curse Laila, is nothing but the unquenchable

thirst for you, so bring your mouth closer and water me.

They said "Why are you mad with Laila?" so I said "Woe to you all!

Only the insane know the pleasures of life."

They asked, "Do you love her to death?"

I said, "Speak of her over my grave and watch how she brings me back to life"

They told me, "Pick any but her, her heart is stone."

I said "I will take no one but Laila,

for if you combine all the universe's beauty

in someone else, and she came calling for me

I would be as deaf as a rock to her summons"

I would say "This beauty is nothing to me."

When our eyes connect is endless happiness

and when hers abandon mine, I weep.

They said, "You've been led astray, religion will guide you back."

and I said "is there another religion to follow than Laila?

Is not what lies under the bends of my ribs her disciple,

together with everything that flows in the folds of my veins.

Isn't my desperate heart an alter for her

and the spilling of my tears in her absence offerings to her?"

They said "Visit the green gardens for they

have flowers of comfort and exquisite aromas"

I said "I can't stand no other fragrance but hers"

and I said " There is no good in the fields of flowers anyway"

They said "Maybe the singing of the birds there

would help ease your lovesick heart"

I said "If it isn't Laila who is singing

then all birds above the fields must be silenced

They said " Then kill yourself, maybe death would extinguish

the eruptions of love within you"

I said "In death, the soul and body are separated

and my soul is Laila and the separation would debilitate me"

O Laila, how I wish I was your clothing

so I would get to encircling your lean body

O how I wish Laila I was your tongue

so I can savour whatever tempts me, or I want

I am the poor to Laila, so if she takes me

I will live for her or the fires of love would consume me

once again i am simply.....!!!!!!! will never be over this not ever not ever and absolutely absolutely memorizing this until it lives in my head and my heart rent-free for the rest of my life 💕💗

#still astonished you did this and at how beautiful it is i just.......#THIS IS THAT DARWISH LINE THAT WASNT DARWISH THAT WOUND UP DRIVING ME INSANE YOU GUYS #ask #raamification #poems #for keeps #not darwish poem

100 notes · View notes

vilgramcrimeandpunishment · 10 months ago

Text

Introductions

Prisoner 001 - Kasumi Aisaka

“Oh, hi. I’m Kasumi Aisaka. It’s a pleasure to meet you,”

“I’m not really special…."

"My work is kinda boring, I'd much rather talk about you,"

Ẃ̶̰ẖ̵́ý̶̗ ̵̫̊ş̴͠h̸̺̃o̸̯͋ù̷̞ḽ̴̃d̵̓ͅ ̴͎̅I̵̡̔ ̸̢͑f̵͚̎é̸̗é̶̪l̴͉̐ ̵̝̽s̶͍̊o̸̦̚r̴̙̀r̵̭̈́ý̴͉ ̶̈́ͅf̵̟̒o̷̜̐r̸͇̕ ̶̧̈s̶̝̃ö̴̻m̷̤͘ḛ̴̈o̶̙͆ǹ̷̜e̸̘͌ ̷̤͝e̵̜̿l̶̈ͅš̸̺ē̵͚'̴̟̿s̴̺͠ ̴͓̀m̶͍̌i̶͇̿s̶̹̑t̴̬͆a̶̼̔k̶̫̕ḙ̶͝?̸̖̈́ ̵̮̾

Prisoner 002 - Daisuke Kurosaki

"Daisuke Kurosaki. 24 years old,"

"What else is there to know?"

"God, you're hopeless. I don't intend to be anyone's 'friend' here,"

Ẃ̷̧ĥ̶͔a̴̳͒t̷̛͕ ̶̦̋a̸͉͋ ̵̗͐b̵̺͂o̷̤̊t̸̏͜h̷̺̅e̴̞̾r̸̨͐.̵̝̋.̶̱͒.̵̟͠a̴̺͝n̶̥͐d̴̲́ ̸̖̎n̷̤͠ô̵̲w̴̮̄ ̸̞̅I̷͖̎ ̸̰̀h̶͙͝á̸̦v̴̲͗e̴͍͛ ̷̘̚t̷̛̪o̷̧̍ ̸̻͊ć̴̪l̸̨̒e̸̳͝ả̴̦n̶̯̆ ̷̫̊ụ̸̄p̴͚͂

Prisoner 003 - Haruto Suzuki

"...Haruto....Suzuki...."

"M-My age? I'm...20...."

"S-Sorry....am I in the way?"

N̴̬̆-̷̲͝N̵͉̆ỏ̵͚.̴̗̒.̷͓͋.̷͕́n̴̠̓ò̴͔ ̴̦͗n̸̮̿o̶͖͘ ̶̀ͅn̶̑͜o̷̹͝!̸͇͠ ̷̡̐I̸͙̓ ̴͙̔d̸̠̓i̴̢̅d̸̙̆ṉ̵̋'̴̬͘t̶̗͐ ̴̘̀ḿ̷͎e̶̳̾ạ̵̈n̴̛͕ ̸̦̿t̷͎̾o̵̱͌.̷͖̓.̶͍̊.̴̲̑w̴̤͆ḁ̷̓k̸̟̿e̶̳͝ ̴̭͊ů̷͔p̸̖͌!̵͔͋

Prisoner 004 - Mai Akagi

"Oh? You want to talk to the beautiful me? Hehe, Mai Akagi is the name and smiles are the game!"

"God, did I sound totally lame there? Sorry sorry, teehee! I can make it up by giving you some tickles~"

"Just tell me if you feel uncomfortable, kay?"

W̸͇͐h̷͈̏ã̶̞t̶̜̃ ̵̻͝d̷̼̒o̸̦̔ ̴̜̍y̶̪̋ơ̴͖u̸̘̕ ̶͈͒m̷̫͘e̶͈͂a̷̛͇n̷̑͜?̶̜͛ ̵̱̆T̶͎̐h̴̨̾é̶͉y̸̨̎ ̷̺̐d̸̖̕e̵̟͋s̴̢̉ȇ̸̩r̵͖̉v̸̯̊e̶̡̛d̶͉̃ ̸̩̋i̸̛͖t̵͈̎,̸̦̐ ̵͓̈d̶̞̔i̵̜͑d̸̘͂n̶̤͒'̸͎̌t̸̼̒ ̷̻̓t̷͙͒ĥ̴̻e̴̘̊ỳ̸̺?̶͖̐

Prisoner 005 - Akari Kamizaki

"A-kar-i Ka-mi-zaki!!! What do you get? Akari Kamizaki!!! Akari meaning light! Dazzle, shiny shiny! Bright!"

"Murder? Akari never murdered anyone! How mean to assume that! Hmpf!"

"I don't get what you mean....Oh! This is a super duper secret musical spectacular, isn't it?!"

P̷̺͑a̷͔͂p̵̹̐a̶̰̔ ̴͎͂a̶̹͐n̷̰̓d̷̹͐ ̶͍̔M̸̘͒a̵̤̚ ̵̝̊w̸̠̒as ̸̱͐t̸̘̄h̵̞̔e̶͎̎ ̶̞̈́b̵̬̐e̸͔̊s̴̝̊ť̷͇e̴̳͝s̵̲̀t̷͈̓!̷̫̚ ̶̦̄I̸̭̓ ̶͇͆b̷̜̋è̴̙c̴͈̏a̷̦͝m̶̮͆ė̷̙ ̴̣͝â̷̮ ̵̜̋m̵̗͒ụ̴͝ş̷̃i̶̒͜c̸͙̈ä̶̪l̴͕̆ ̸̱̍a̷͐ͅc̵̖̒t̸̝̀r̸̈́ͅḙ̴͝s̴̲̈ṡ̷̜ ̵͍̾j̴̭̊ù̵̠s̵̜͘t̶͖̔ ̷̰̃f̴̧̄ō̶̙r̴̃ͅ ̴̳̃t̷͎̀h̵̤͋ë̶̠́m̸̲̃!̸͝ͅ

Prisoner 006 - Kousei Tachihara

"Kousei Tachihara. A pleasure to meet you,"

"I won't deny I killed someone, but the story is a bit more complicated,"

"Of course it's not an excuse. But I'm not a cold-blooded monster,"

".....Warden-san?"

D̸̔͜ȍ̵̜n̵͇̍'̶͉̎t̸̬͝ ̵̨̔p̶̬͛i̵͔̅s̸͇͊s̸̠̽ ̶̧̋m̴̙͌ȅ̵̘ ̸̪̈́ǫ̵͒f̵̮͆f̸̫͒!̷̝͂ ̶͙̐Ī̵̼ ̵̤̀h̴̭͆ą̵̿t̸̹̍ḙ̶͘ ̸̤̀y̷̖͆o̷̩͆ȕ̸̹,̶̓͜ ̶̖̓j̸̲͆u̶̡̒s̴̨̃t̷̪̃ ̴̨̑d̷̬͊i̶̮̔ë̷͕́ ̶͉̒a̵̙̓l̷̗͠r̷͍͝ẻ̵͙a̴̼͝d̶͕̓y̶̯̎!̸̟͘

Prisoner 007 - Masako Katsura

"Masako Katsura. If you need....anything~ at all, don't be afraid to ask~,"

"Being surrounded by all these beautiful souls is a blessing. Tell me all about yourself, dear~"

"Such exquisite taste~ Please, feel free to talk in that charming voice of yours~"

ṗ̴̯l̸̹̈́e̶̞̒a̴̛͔s̵̮̃e̶̟̾ ̶͇̅r̸͚̀ẽ̶̢m̵̳͛a̴̳̐i̷̫̕ṇ̸̃ ̸͔͌s̵̹̾é̶̠á̶̪t̴̢̔e̶̞͛d̴̝͑ ̸̢͠w̵̩͝i̶̳̽t̴͔͑ȟ̸͇ ̴͚͗y̷͙̔ŏ̸̯ú̴̺r̷̬̔ ̵̟͛s̸͚̾e̶͔͗a̷̢̍t̶̰́ ̷̬̚b̴͕̿e̷̫͑l̸͚̐ţ̸̈́ ̵̺͗f̴̜̍ă̶͙s̴̭͗t̸̥̒è̶̟n̴̯̅ḙ̶̓ḍ̴̆ ̶̜͗a̶̬̍n̵̗̆d̸̰̔ ̷͖́k̴͕̚ḛ̶͛é̶̲p̷͎̑ ̷̟͠t̶̂��h̷̡̕e̴̤͛ ̵̢̕ả̷̘ì̵̻ș̷̚ḻ̷̈́e̶̦̎s̸̡̚ ̴̳̆c̷̼͆ľ̸͉e̷̪͘a̴̞͋r̸̭͋

Prisoner 008 - Hikari Kimura

"I'm soaringstar180. I was apart of the guild that me and cherryjoy92 made. I have some armor in my--.....oh, you meant my real name. Hikari Kimura,"

"Can I get back to my game now? I just got a lifestone and it's OP. My HP never goes down,"

"Wish I can restore some health. He's crazy powerful,"

"Killed? Do you mean the bosses in video games?"

H̷̱̉o̸̺̊w̷̛̩ ̸̼̓ï̸̞ș̸͑ ̵̞̏ĭ̶̧t̵̒ͅ ̶̖́m̴̱̌y̷͖͑ ̸̨͋f̵̣̋a̴͕͗u̶̦̾l̵̲͆t̴͍̃?̶̱̆ ̷̻͑D̷̈́ͅo̷̙͊n̷̮̈́'̸̦͌t̵͈͆ ̴͈͝b̸̻̋e̷̢̊ ̸̢͋a̴̦͑ ̶̗̈́s̴̯͛o̸̜̎r̴̪̊e̴͚͛ ̵͍̊ļ̶̽ȍ̵͍s̵̳̈́e̵̫͝ř̷͓

Prisoner 009 - Asuka Minori

"Asuka Minori. Hi hi!"

"Hey, give me some breathing room! You shouldn't annoy someone like this when they're not even doing anything suspicious!"

"Easy for you to say! No one takes me seriously!"

Ť̷̘h̷̘͊e̶̱̚ ̶͍͆e̵̱͛x̴̪̽p̷̼̒e̶̼͘r̴̻̾í̶͖ḿ̴ͅe̷̻̽n̶̨̽t̴͚͑ ̵̦̐î̸͚s̶͉̚ ̸͕͠c̶͔͐ȏ̸̜ḿ̸̠p̸̗͠l̴̰̊e̸͈͛ṭ̵͂e̴̝͑.̷͖̑ ̵̦̊Ṋ̴̀ö̶̲́w̸̱͌ ̵͉͠a̸̯̿l̸̫͂ľ̸̤ ̷̺́w̶̗̉ê̶͎ ̸̺̏h̴͔̚a̴̙̕v̷̟́è̵͔ ̴̥͝t̵̰̓o̴̪̕ ̷̦̇d̶̥́o̷̟͂ ̴̻̈́i̵̮̊s̷̙̐ ̶͓̈́d̶͔̅e̸̼̋s̸̙̏t̶̯͊r̴͈̾o̶̞͋ÿ̴͔ ̸͈̔â̸̰n̷̆͜ỹ̴̱ ̸̡̄t̴͎͆r̵͔̊ḁ̷̓c̸̤̽è̷̪s̴̹͝

Prisoner 010 - Raiden Arisawa

"Raiden Arisawa. How are you doing?"

"Heh, not gonna lie, I feel a bit out of place. Surprised to see someone middle aged, huh?"

"I'm just waiting to get this over with. I'll be pretty disappointed if you take pity on someone like me,"

W̶̻͒-̵̘̑W̶̗̿h̵͍̎a̸̮̾t̷̤̀.̶͙̆.̵̭͊.̷̙́W̶̲̄h̷̘̑a̴͚͒t̸̝̓ ̵͇͘i̵̥̋s̶̹̒ ̵̱́t̷̘́h̷̭̓i̷̖͒s̴̞̃?̴̟̃

#milgram #ocgram #vilgram: crime and punishment #vilgram #milgram oc #milgram fan project

4 notes · View notes

sorcerous-caress · 1 year ago

Note

Now that you mention red and chaos dragons, I will admit that I'd played with that when choosing his subclass.

I made Khal'ian a Way of the Ascendant Dragon monk(a mod). And with that choice I wrote it into his backstory.

In adolescence he believed that if he could emulate the chaos dragons he would gain some form of acceptance or a way to mock the elders.

As way to say:

" Look at where I have succeeded in which you have failed. I can Emulate the spirit of entities you wish to bond with; and yet the majority of you have fail to!"

A lofty and arrogant goal but he sets off to do it regardless.

He digs through every scroll, pamphlet and book within the archives.

Every chance he gets to slip away from basic training, he opens small temporal rifts to observe the draconian creatures.

Sneaking out to secluded training grounds to take peeks at the only other Ascendant!Monk that he knows of, trying to memorize the techniques.

The Ascendant had red scales, that glimmered like rubys which adorn armor. Their roars poured out fire that in one hand terrified and in another invigorated. He never really got a chance to put a face to the veracity, he only truly remembers their white hair.

It made him think that he wasn't the only forced conversion at the monastery, bended to suit someone else's means

Eventually, he earns his opalescent scales and chaotic breath.

The poor monk doesn't get to savor the success for long, Soon he is Tadpole riddled and weakened.

It was before facing the goblin camp that he came back to a semblance of prior strength. However, something was very wrong; in place of opalescent scales there were dotted rubies along his cheeks and his breath was an inferno.

There wasn't time to ponder, besides noticing Lae'zel's nod of approval.

He was running on autopilot during the goblin battle; Until he came face to face with her.

All he saw at first was white hair and ruby eyes whittling him down, for a moment he was younger again. Sneaking peaks at the Ascendant and all their glory.

Then he feels the heat of the fiery smite before he sees it.

He dodges it barely, a mace meer inches from colliding with his skull.

He hears Lae'zel shouting at him but he can't tear his gaze away; you can't afford it with a warrior like her, yet its not like he would have wanted to.

The Drow in front of him was not like anything he as seen in a long time. The sheer power of her fury, the pure martial prowess of her form and her regal presence that demanded your attention.

She was Exquisite.

Oh the pleasure that it would be to be at her command, to feel her firm head grasp he's reins and order his draconic fire to-

He hears Lae'zel shouting again, he barely as time to bring his forearm up to block a mace swing from shattering his jaw.

He can feel the smites fire extinguish on the skin, his bones ache and fracture.

A name. A title. She demands an honorific, he's so sure of it. Yet one he deems worthy of her slips his mind.

It's on the tip of his tongue.

In the end it takes him and Lae'zel to finally force the paladin to a retreat, he feels Lae'zel's ire on his back while watching her go.

Then the word comes to him.

Kith'rak

No something more, a word that she must demand him to call her.

Heat pools in his belly.

I'm sorry if I'm rambling too much but this is giving me a good excuse to write more. Smut and Character reflections are fun to write! I'll write about the Creche and Jaheira in a bit if the hard cider doesn't take me out.

-githzerai anon

Don't apologise anon, I completely love this! I'm enjoying reading it a lot even.

His first ever meeting with Minthara was her attempting to kill them, and honestly, that is very hot of her. Just her imposing authority as a paladin and him completely falling head over heel in sheer awe at her. Feeling as if he is sneaking forbidden glances to a great ancient warrior when that said worrior is second away from smiting him with inferno fire.

Bless Laezel pulling through and getting him out alive, would've been too sad to write "horny" as the cause of death on his tombstone.

And him slowly merging into both dragons sounds kinda cool actually- he should be scale friends with my Tav and they'll teach him to act like you're better than others simply for having a dragon lineage in you.

From how many githzerai bases there are in the underdark, i wonder if he stumbled upon a book or two with some drow language. Or just underdark speech in general.

Or maybe leave it to Minthara to teach him the right word to address her by when the right time comes

#♡githzerai anon

5 notes · View notes

nxrthmizu · 3 years ago

Text

kill em’ with kindness

fandom | miraculous ladybug

genre | lila salt, so much salt

summary | marinette takes the high road to a better life.

w.c | 8.1k

author’s note | had this idea for a few days after i wrote victory tastes bitter, which really blew up on ao3 (thanks for all the support <3). always wondered what it would be like if marinette just. played nice. so here she is, being an absolute badass.

author’s note.2 | okay so since i did not write this in one sitting, i get that the story probably doesn’t flow as properly as it should. will edit if i ever find the will to do it.

Marinette was done. They wanted her to be a model student? Fine. They wanted her to stop being mean? Fine. They wanted her to be friends with Lila? Fine.

Luckily for Hawkmoth, no akuma plagued the sky of the previous night, or she would rain hell on him. There was no more tolerance left inside her to spare, and she certainly wouldn’t go out of her way to make some for the manipulative pest problem Paris has had for way too long.

She looked up into the mirror, having exchanged her pigtails for a low ponytail, strands curled to frame her face. Bluebell eyes glistened with a fire that burned brighter than hope— Hope that her ‘friends’ would see sense. Hope that Adrien would be there for her. Hope that the good guy would always get the happy ending. No more being patient, no more being passive, no more putting up with things she didn’t have to.

If Lila Rossi wanted a battle, then fine, a battle she would get. Marinette was lowering her white flag, replacing it with a battle emblem that scorched red, redder than blood and redder than the anger her friends would feel when she was finished. No more peace negotiations. Rossi wanted a fight, Rossi wanted a challenge. Who was Marinette to deny her from what she wanted?

They didn’t know what was coming for them.

The power of makeup was truly one that reigned apex among the world. A few touches of her makeup brush was all it took to erase her dark eyes from existence, give her skin a more radiant glow (She promised that she’d take time to give it a natural glow after she was done being nice), and ease a cherry-pink blush onto her cheeks, making her freckles stand out more in contrast. Marinette Dupain-Cheng meant business, and when she meant business—

“Good morning, Marinette! You look great today!” The head of the student council, a sensible, down-to-Earth blonde by the name of Noelle smiled, speeding up slightly to catch the bluenette on the steps of Francois Dupont. “Love the new look.”

Ah yes. The new look— A royal blue blazer, detailed with golden embroidery of cherry blossoms bursting at the sleeves and the collar, accompanied by a classy-looking silk blouse tapered with a soft, black felt. The pleated black skirt (Made from heavy cloth so that it wouldn’t flap about in the wind) was lined with a beautiful scarlet at all the edges to complete the look. Knee-high black socks trailed all the way into the slight heels that Marinette had added flower adornments on, just so she could tap a little of her own touch on it.

“Thank you,” Responded the bluenette with a smile.

“Woah! Someone looks like they got a good night of rest.” Madeline, the president of the Art Club teased, flocking to the other side of the girl. “That mascara looks sharp enough to kill, girl!”

Sharp enough to kill?

Oh, that wouldn’t be necessary, Marinette mused to herself, sending out thanks to those who had complimented her on her way to class. Nothing sharp was going to be required for the liar’s downfall— No, no. That would just be too messy, and she wouldn’t even think of staining her new outfit. Of course, the ensemble was crafted from her own hands, as stated by the classic MDC that graced the inside of her blazer, the collar of her blouse, and one of the pleats of her skirt. Besides… Lila wasn’t worth getting her hands dirty.

She was going to do things the right way.

The kind way.

“Good morning, everyone.” She greeted, walking into the classroom, garnering their attention with her punctuality. Every set of eyes in the room were attracted to her, like iron fillings to magnets. Some of the gazes were malicious, hateful; Some were doubtful, wary; One was pleading, as if spelling out ‘Please keep taking the high road!’— And then there was Chloe, who was entirely uninterested.

Good, Lila was already present.

“I’d just like to take a minute of your time. Won’t be too long, I promise.” She took a deep breath, ignoring the imploring gaze that dug at her side, courtesy of a blonde that sat in the front row (And no, it wasn’t Chloe she was referring to). “I’d just like to say…”

The class watched with bated breath.

“I’m sorry.”

Alya blinked. So did everyone else in the room. Stunned faces greeted Marinette’s apologetic one, including Lila’s— She didn’t even have to fake her reaction. What on Earth was Marinette trying to pull off? What kind of stunt was this?

“I realise that I’ve not really been the best version of me lately,” She admitted sorrowfully. I haven’t been the best version of me because I was being boycotted and isolated, “It wasn’t fair to put you all through this,” It wasn’t fair that you idiots had to lose all your reputations because of the words of one liar, “And people got hurt as a consequence,” Me. I was the one who got hurt. “I realise that things haven’t been all smooth-sailing in our class lately, so I’d like to apologise to everyone.” I’d like to apologise for not being able to save you from a liar who only sees her own personal gain.

A practiced breath escaped Marinette’s throat as she waited for her cue— The school bell— And set her bag on the teacher’s desk. Good, everything was unfolding right on time. Not quite far away, there was a distinct clack-clack-clack of someone’s heels— An auburn teacher, perhaps? Marinette reached into her backpack and drew out a package she had meticulously wrapped in brown paper and tied in golden ribbon. Sitting passively on top of the package was a small note, decorated in hand-drawn flowers and a hummingbird in the corner.

“Here,” Marinette strode up the steps of the class, stopping right in front of her former seat— Now Lila’s— Internally taking pleasure in the first time she’d seen the Italian’s true expression. “For you, as a token of my apology. I understand if you don’t want to forgive me,” Marinette swallowed painfully, biting her lip, as if she was trying not to cry, “But I just want to make things right.”

Lila blinked.

What the hell was happening?

The silence was broken by a quiet sob, one that did not originate from Marinette. Instead, Mlle. Caline Bustier stood in the doorway of the class, clutching her books and notes for the day’s lesson, wiping away a tear that dropped from her eye. “Oh, Marinette,” The teacher sobbed, “I’m so proud of you.”

“That’s so sweet of you, Marinette.” Rose sniffed, wiping away a few tears of her own that had started dripping during the bluenette’s speech. Juleka patted her girlfriend’s back, trying to calm the emotional blonde before she cried out a tsunami on top of her textbooks, giving Marinette a thumbs up to show her approval.

Alya beamed, seemingly proud of her former best friend, who had (In her opinion) finally started to see sense. “I’m so proud of you, girl!”

(Adrien was too shocked to form any words.)

“Could you… Open it?” Marinette asked hopefully, ignoring the teacher for the favour of the liar who ruined her life. “I… Just want to know if you like it.”

The Italian could do nothing more than grit her teeth when Alya urged her to open it. What kind of trick was Mari-Brat up to? Never mind— She’d just spin it into something stupid and the class would take to it like starved animals. With no other choice, she tore apart the brown paper, discarding the golden ribbon on her desk. The class gasped, oohs and aahs echoing all around as the package unfolded to reveal a pretty, beige-coloured cardigan, hand-stitched with murals of foxes, jumping livelily among berry bushes.

Stitched into the inside of the cardigan in pastel blue were the words ‘Lila Rossi’, done in an exquisite cursive that could no doubt only come from Marinette’s hand.

“I made it for you myself,” Marinette sniffed humbly. “I know you’re a really great model and you’ve probably seen clothes that are much better than this one, but I poured all my feelings into it. I spent every night of last week working on it, and—” She hiccuped rather loudly, instantly covering her mouth with her hand in embarrassment. “I just hope you like it.”

“I…” Lila was at a loss for words. She had an itinerary full of the lies and stories she would spin that day (“Marinette texted me mean things last night,” she would weep tearfully to Alya, sniffing and wiping away tears on Alya’s shirt sleeve, “I just want to be friends but she just keeps… Attacking me!”) but no matter. A smirk danced along the Italian’s lips. “Did you design this yourself?”

Judging by the smirk that Marinette could practically hear in the other girl’s tone, the liar already had a trick up her sleeve. If Marinette had to guess...

Something along the lines of she stole this design from [random designer], who just coincidentally had the time to be Lila’s friend. Or maybe the friend of Lila’s grandmother. Whichever didn’t matter much, because Marinette was prepared.

Marinette crossed the room in mere seconds, returning back to Lila’s seat with a sketchbook that she’d pulled from her bag. “Here!” She chirped, flipping open the page with an exercised movement, not even having to shuffle through the pages to find the correct sketch. “I brought the original sketch, just in case you wanted to see it so you could get a professional to redo it for you.”

Lila opened and closed her mouth like a gaping fish out of water. Beside her, Alya’s eyes sparkled, envy still glowing in her eyes at the sight of the intricate foxes, coloured in hazel, gold, and orange threads.

“Thank you, Marinette.” Lila gritted through her teeth, basically seething at the thought of having to thank the girl in front of her, who was smiling like an innocent sunshine child.

The bluenette then turned her attention to her homeroom teacher. “Sorry for interrupting and taking up class time, Mlle. Bustier.”

“It’s not a problem, Marinette,” Mlle. Bustier wiped at her eyes, slightly embarrassed now that the whole class was watching her cry at the sight of her ‘model student’ correcting her wrongs. “E— Excuse me.” She mumbled, clearing her throat. “Let’s pick off from where we stopped yesterday. Open your textbooks to page 63, please.”

──────── ⋆⋅❉⋅⋆ ────────

The rest of the day went along smoothly. Marinette sat at the back of class, as usual, sighing in boredom as class was derailed off course, whisked off by another one of Lila’s tall tales. Honestly, they were already weeks off schedule— How the hell were they expected to sit for the final exam, at this rate?

She huffed quietly to herself, watching Bustier trying (and failing) to act like she wasn’t interested in Lila’s story. The woman— An actual adult— Fell for Lila’s usual tricks like a fool, taking in every single word in drunken thirst. Did Mlle. Bustier really have nothing better to do than get absorbed in a teenage girl’s wild fantasies (in a way it was like that). At that thought, Marinette sat up straighter in her chair, an idea going off like a lightbulb above her brain.

Was it...?

After further thought, Marinette settled back into her chair, humming thoughtfully as she drummed her fingers against her table quietly. Yes... Yes, perhaps.

Perhaps it was possible.

The rest of the lesson passed in wasted time as the class took a major detour to go on a warped journey through Lila’s lies, and before Bustier knew it, the lunch bell had rung. Students chattered animatedly as everyone got up, Mlle. Bustier’s announcement of ‘please go home and study this chapter by yourselves, everyone’ was pathetically drowned out by the rest of the noise.

Marinette collected her things quickly, needing her exit from the classroom to go off without a hitch, exactly the way she planned it. “I’ve got to go back to my parents’ bakery for lunch,” She said shyly, shrinking into herself as her classmates turned to look at her. “I... Was thinking of bringing some macarons back later. Before I go, though... Lila, is there anything you’re allergic to?”

“What?” The girl being asked snapped back as a reply, the words leaving her mouth too fast for her to register. Before she knew it, the whole class was staring at her, mouths agape. “I... I mean.” Clearing her throat, the liar plastered on a sweet smile. “What was it, Marinette?”

“I wanted to bring some macarons back for everyone.” Shyly, the bluenette repeated her plans. “And... Since I’ve been in class with everyone else here for a while, I know their allergies, but not yours. Is there anything you’re allergic to that could be in baked goods?”

The Italian cursed under her breath— Mari-Brat really wasn’t letting up. The bluenette had made sure to cover any ground that the Italian could use and turn back against her. “As far as I’m concerned, I’m not allergic to anything.”

Brightening visibly, Marinette nodded, shooting the Italian a smile. “I know things between us aren’t going to get better immediately, but I promise to do my best in fixing things! See you guys after lunch.”

──────── ⋆⋅❉⋅⋆ ────────

Lila was getting really, really fed up. For the whole morning, she wasn’t able to come up with any reason to blame Marinette. If things kept going at the rate that they were, the class would be fully convinced that the bluenette was a changed woman, and that couldn’t happen. There was, in the end, a downside to having such a gullible bunch of classmates— Sure, they swayed easily to her side, but that meant that they swayed back to Marinette’s just as easily.

Hissing under her breath, Lila looked up to catch Alya and Nino’s concerned looks.

No.

She was Lila Rossi. She was resourceful. She had Gabriel Agreste behind her back. She was powerful. She was not going to let Mari-Brat halt her plans in their tracks ever again.

“I’m going to go use the bathroom real quick,” She said, excusing herself from the lunch table. Perfect! Now all she had to do was come back in tears, saying that Marinette confronted and mocked her in the bathroom, and the class would be all hers, once again.

Little did she know that Dupain-Cheng was one teensy step ahead.

As soon as Lila rounded the corner of the cafeteria, Marinette appeared, having just had a lovely chat with Rose (And Juleka, although it was Rose who did most of the talking). The two were at the front steps of Francois Dupont, having a lovely couple moment that Marinette hated to interrupt— But she needed to have at least a word with them.

“Rose, Juleka!” Marinette greeted, box of macarons held carefully in her arms, as if it were a box of important jewelry instead of just a box of pastries. “Oh— Rose, is that a new watch? I’ve never seen you wear it before!”

“Yep, it is!” Rose beamed, delighted that someone (Besides Juleka) had finally noticed it. “Isn’t it pretty?” Indeed it was. The watch in question was a pretty, intricate-looking thing done in rose-gold metal, with a pastel pink leather strap holding it down. The background of the watch face was a white background with a thin film of rose-gold metal, cut to resemble a wall of precious rose vines.

“It is!” Agreeing wholeheartedly, Marinette offered her classmate a smile. “Oh by the way, what time is it?”

Rose peered at the watchface, returning the answer with an equally-bright smile. “11.47.”

“Thank you.” Marinette thanked, continuing her way through the school until she reached the cafeteria. Just before she fell into line of sight, though, she hid behind a wall, peering over the corner until she spotted the table she was looking for.

Perfect— Lila just walked away. Marinette thanked the gods for all the luck that she was having— Okay, maybe she thanked one god in particular more than the others. Gently, she patted the secret pocket that was sewn into the lining of her blazer— Tikki, who had magic powers, managed to create a miniature ‘room’ inside the secret pocket, with the pocket itself acting as a portal of sorts to the room. After a few seconds, she felt the pocket tap back, managing a small smile of gratitude for her kwami’s constant love and support.

“Hey, Alya, Nino.” Marinette greeted shyly, box of macarons propped up against her hip. “Where’s... Lila?” She hesitated slightly with her question, acting as if it was a little out-of-place to ask about the Italian girl.

“She went to the bathroom.” Nino provided, mouth still full of unchewed food. This gifted him with a smack from his girlfriend (“Don’t talk with your mouth full!” she scolded,).

“Oh, I see.” I definitely see. I know what she’s going to try and pull later— I have to time this properly. Timing is everything.

Marinette continued to make small talk with the two, whom she had not talked to for a very long time. Much to her surprise, they were very warm and accepting, quite unlike the people who slung slurs and accused her baselessly a few days ago. One morning made all the difference to people who believed anything, she supposed.

All of a sudden, something in her chest buzzed, as if it were a fire alarm, vibrating in warning— She had to go. “It was nice talking to you guys again.” She admitted, having briefly dipped into a pool of what their friendship used to be like. “But I have to go. I promised Kagami I’d meet her for a few minutes before lunch ended.”

Alya’s eyebrows jumped up comically in surprise. “I didn’t know you still talked to her. I thought you two were… Love rivals.”

“So what if we were love rivals?” Marinette shrugged with a simple smile. “Adrien is… As much as it’s odd to admit, he’s just a boy. Neither of us let him get in between us. He’s just a boy, and it’d be stupid for us to not get along just because we like the same boy. It doesn’t bother Kagami that we used to like the same boy, so why should I let it bother me? Besides,” Marinette tilted her head slightly. “It’d be stupid to give up a great friendship just because of a boy.”

With her last words still hanging in the air, Marinette turned tail and left, walking faster than usual. She had little time left— As she neared the wall that would shield her from the view of the cafeteria, she sped up her footsteps, practically half-sprinting just so she could get out of sight before Lila Rossi returned, looking like someone just killed a puppy in front of her very eyes.

“Oh my god, what’s wrong?” Alya jumped to her feet instantly, reaching out to comfort her best friend, who was moments away from having tears stream down her cheeks.

“I… I thought she’d changed.” Lila sniffled, biting her lip to appear as if she was desperately trying not to cry.

Alya frowned. “Who?”

“Marinette.” Lila stated as if it were obvious, faltering for a moment— Why had Alya bothered to ask? Shouldn’t it come pretty obvious? The liar dismissed the thoughts and continued in her performance. “She threatened me in the bathroom. She… She confronted me and mocked me, saying… Saying that all of you… All of you are idiots for believing that she’s changed. She… She said everything was an act to turn you all against me.”

Nino’s jaw dropped so far that it touched the floor. “Uh… Dudette, are you sure it was Marinette?”

“Yes!” Lila spun to look at him so fast that it was a wonder she didn’t break her neck. “Are… Are you doubting me? Oh my god, it’s working. She’s turning you guys against me. I just want to have friends, I don’t get why she hates me so—”

“You’re… Absolutely sure it was Marinette? You saw her face?” Alya repeated her boyfriend’s words, emphasising each and everyone of them as she looked Lila in the eyes.

“Alya, not you too.” Lila sniffled, tears basically dropping out of her eyes like big, fat droplets of salt water. “It was her— I saw her blazer, it had MDC stitched onto it.”

An uncomfortable silence settled in between the girl and her boyfriend, neither quite knowing what to say. “Oh. I… I see.” Alya said at last, turning back to her food. “Well… Lunch is almost over. Let’s… Let’s get back to class.”

“Marinette just threatened me in the bathroom!” Lila puffed up, clearly upset now. “She mocked me! She called you guys stupid for believing her act!”

“Dudette.” Nino shattered the ice-cold silence at their lunch table, swallowing heavily. “Marinette was with us the whole time you were in the bathroom.”

──────── ⋆⋅❉⋅⋆ ────────

The tension inside the room was so thick that Adrien could cut it with his bare hands. God, what had happened? The day had started off so well— Marinette agreed to be friends with Lila, god bless the girl— But as it turned out, one hurdle folded over only to be towered over by a taller one.

“Alya—” Lila began tearfully, her pitiful look attracting the sympathy of those who still didn’t know what was going on.

“You claimed that Marinette threatened you in the bathroom.” Alya interrupted. “While she was with us the whole time in the cafeteria.”

Faltering, the Italian struggled to find a way to squeeze herself out of the tight spot. “M— Maybe it was someone else.” Reluctantly, she backed out one trap into another one.

“You said that you were sure! You said that she was wearing a blazer with MDC stitched on it. Marinette was wearing that blazer during lunch!” The reporter shot back, Nino at her side, trying to extinguish the conflicted fire blazing inside Alya’s heart.

The seeds of doubt had been sewn, and Lila was going to have a tough time weeding them out. “I... I’m sorry!” She burst out into tears, sobbing pitifully in front of the class, most of which were already in attendance. “My lying disease is acting up again. I... I can’t help it. I didn’t mean to hurt anyone!”

“Uh... Is this a bad time to ask if anyone wants macarons?” Marinette cleared her throat awkwardly, standing at the front of the room. Her royal blue blazer had been shed, and it now hung over her arm, properly folded into half. Earlier, she had asked Rose for the time to make sure that she had a witness in case Lila tried to pull another act— But as it seemed, the Italian was determined to dig her own grave and all the work had been done.

The students of Mlle. Bustier’s class shared looks.

“I’ll... I’ll have one.” Mylene cleared her throat, hoping that it would diffuse the situation.

“Me too.” Kim followed, not missing the way Marinette flinched slightly at his words. Most of the words he had said to her of late had not been nice at all— But he justified that with the fact that she was being a bully to Lila, like Chloe had been to Marinette herself.

“Great!” Marinette cleared her throat awkwardly, slapping on a strained smile. She passed the box to the front row, where Sabrina and Chloe were, gesturing for them to pass the box along until everyone got their fill.

Internally, Lila seethed, anger burning like a wildfire that tore down every lush sign of life in her path. The girl had never felt that livid in her entire life— Who did Dupain-Cheng think she was, having a change of heart out of nowhere, pretending to play along with those oh-so-innocent eyes of hers?

“I... I think I know why my disease acted up again,” Lila sniffled, loud enough to gather attention again. Unsure glances passed around like an object that no one wanted, carried from hand to hand forcefully as no one wanted to hold onto it for too long. “It... It must’ve been because of... Of the cardigan that Marinette made me! You must’ve known that...” The Italian squinted at the cardigan on her desk, “... Cotton triggers my lying disease!”

The bluenette, still passing around macarons, stopped in her tracks. Inside her mind, Marinette was shaking her head, an amused smile on her cheeks. She had to give Lila credit for that one— She would’ve never anticipated that lie from her nemesis. “That’s terrible!” She sucked in a breath, putting on a dismayed look. “I’m really sorry, Lila! I know it seems like I did this on purpose, but I promise I didn’t! To make it up to you, I’ll make you another one.”

Is she serious right now? Lila scoffed mentally. How long does she plan to keep this going? No matter— She’ll eventually drain herself out and I won’t even have to meddle in this matter.

Marinette sniffled, collecting the cardigan pitifully from Lila’s desk. “But to prevent future incidents, Lila, I just want you to know that this isn’t made of cotton... It’s made from the highest-quality of star silk, which is incredibly difficult to produce and is rather expensive. It’s such a pity... I thought that only the best of materials would be deserving to be used to make an apology present... I guess you can’t wear it. I’ll just make another copy of the cardigan with some normal-range silk.” Sighing, the bluenette pretended to mull in sadness for a few seconds before an idea struck her. “Alya! You aren’t allergic to star silk, right?”

The flow of conversation redirected suddenly, with the reporter snapping to attention and nodding eagerly as she realised what was about to happen.

“Then... Since I’ve spent so long on this, I don’t want it to go to waste... Why don’t you have it, instead?” Offered Marinette with a sweet, shy smile on her face.

Lila, still caught up in shock by the reveal of the material— Was then slammed with a wall of flaming anger as Alya squealed, coddling the soft, fluffy material that made the cardigan the exquisite product it was.

“Marinette’s right,” Adrien chipped in with his own two cents, “Father can rarely get his hands on that material— It costs a fortune, and if hand-made... It takes forever.”

“Oh, I wove the silk by myself,” Marinette added shyly after Adrien’s contribution, “So I apologise if it’s not up to the quality of industry-level star silk.”

The reporter gushed, still cooing and running her hands over the gorgeous threads of fabric that made up the cloud-like base of the cardigan, eyes sparkling and the details of the embroidery.

Marinette smiled, returning to her seat without a fuss. The rest of the class continued to pass the pastries around, the perfect description of ‘ignorance is bliss’ as they pretended as if they couldn’t see the way Lila was shaking in anger. Alya, on the other hand, could see nothing but the garment in her hands, her ‘best friend’ having become invisible for the time being.

Just as well that it turned out this way, Marinette hummed, twirling her pen in hand, Let that be my departing gift to Rena Rouge.

──────── ⋆⋅❉⋅⋆ ────────

Tomorrow arrived like clockwork, never late and always on time. The crowd of students clamouring by the front of Francois Dupont hushed to silence as they parted for two dark-haired women, both of which were giving off waves of confidence. Simple conversation flowed between the two, who were perfect examples of elegance and grace, their traditional-inspired attire complementing the royal-like aura they had.

“This dress is really lovely, Marinette,” Kagami smiled gently, admiring the way the fabric flowed around her. The designer had gifted her friend with a maroon-coloured hanfu-inspired dress, complete with hand-sewn embroidery of a golden dragon curled around Kagami’s waist and neck. The dress was completed with a pleated skirt that went all the way to the heels. At first, the fencer was reluctant about the skirt due to the limited maneuverability, but then Marinette revealed that the skirt was very simple to take off as it was just tied around the waist.

“You look gorgeous in it. It suits you.” Marinette replied, dressed in a similar looking dress. Her hanfu-inspired dress was light pink in colour, with silver threads depicting cranes flying about freely. The pleated skirt was grey in colour, lined with a soft circle of white.

Kagami blushed slightly. “Thank you.” Briefly, the Japanese girl wondered why on Earth Marinette would go and embroider a dragon onto her dress— Was it purely a coincidence, or...?

“I’m really glad you decided to transfer here,” Marinette smiled softly, her dark blue bangs framing her face as the rest of it was gathered into a braid that Kagami had helped weave. “It’s going to be nice! I’ll get to see you a lot more often.”

“We’re in different classes, though.” Frowning, Kagami wondered if she should request a change of homeroom.

“For now.” The designer winked playfully. “Oh, I have to get to class. See you during lunch?”

Without waiting for a reply, the blue-eyed girl moved away gracefully, leaving Kagami in confusion.

──────── ⋆⋅❉⋅⋆ ────────

“Good morning,” Marinette greeted gracefully, sweeping into the classroom with her bag over her shoulder and a package in her hands. This package was clearly not as exquisitely-wrapped as the one from the day before, as it was just brown paper and some rough string.

Alya brightened at the sight of her friend, shrinking away slightly whenever Lila tried to say anything. Sure, the reporter did shake off the initial reaction and respond to whatever her ‘best friend’ said, but the damage had been done.

“Here’s your new cardigan. It’s made from the same material as your shirt,” Marinette smiled warmly, placing the package on Lila’s table. “It’s a little different from the one I brought yesterday, but I still poured in all my emotions when I made it, so I hope you’ll accept it.”

Through a gritted smile, the Italian thanked the designer, clenching her fists under the table. That was the second time in two days she had to thank Mari-brat! She swore that if she had to do it again a third time, she was going to slap someone.

“Oh, Marinette!” Alya called out excitedly, wearing the cardigan that was originally supposed to be Lila’s. “This cardigan is so soft! It’s really amazing to wear! As expected of you, girl!”

The bluenette stared back at the reporter, wavering for a bit. She had a feeling that Alya wanted something from her...

“So... I was wondering...” The reporter’s expression turned sheepish, with Marinette’s internal thought-train going ah, there it comes— “Could you remove this and put my name instead?” Alya picked up the corner of the cardigan, pointing to the inside of the garment, where ‘Lila Rossi’ was embroidered on.

“Ah...” Marinette didn’t even have to fake her nervousness. We already agreed on this, She told herself, No more doing free stuff for people. No more. “Sorry, Alya. My parents need a lot of help in the bakery recently,.. You know how it is! Family always comes first. I’ve already taken out a lot of time to make the cardigan for Lila... And I promised Kagami I’d go out with her this weekend. I’m afraid I don’t have time...”

There was no missing the way Alya’s face fell instantly. “Couldn’t you put off Kagami for me? Aren’t we best friends?”

“I thought Lila was your best friend,” Feigning an expression of innocence, Marinette tilted her head slightly. “You shouldn’t go around saying things like that, Alya. You might hurt Lila’s feelings. Besides, a promise is a promise. I wouldn’t want to hurt Kagami’s feelings either. Not to mention— I gave you that cardigan for free. That was two weeks’ worth of hard work. I’m afraid I don’t have the ability to take time out to alter it for free either. If you really want to get it done, you could ask an external tailor to do it for you. I know a few who can do really good embroidery.”

Alya faltered. “But... We used to be best friends...”

Snorting mentally, Marinette continued to hold her calm composure. “Like I said, you really shouldn’t say that, Alya. Lila might get upset and we don’t want to hurt her feelings— Right, Adrien?”

The blonde jumped when the conversation turned to him out of nowhere. All of a sudden, every eye in the classroom was fixed on him. “R— Right, of course.” He said, forcing out each word.

Satisfied, Marinette nodded, still wearing her ever-so-kind smile. “Exactly.”

──────── ⋆⋅❉⋅⋆ ────────

“Hey, why don’t we all go out and have a picnic outside during lunch?” Alya suggested loudly, jumping up as soon as the lunch bell rang. “Marinette, you can come along too!” Something inside the reporter’s chest was stirring, and with the events of the past few days, Alya felt like she just had to quench that unsettling feeling— And the first step to that was to mend things with Marinette, even though it was the bluenette’s fault for always having been biased to Lila. Alya smiled, proud of herself. She would be the bigger person, she would forgive Marinette, she would integrate the designer back into the class again.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Marinette replied just as quickly, “We don’t know what Lila might be allergic to— She could easily trigger a reaction if we go out, especially since it’s spring.”

A collective choir of groans rounded the class.

“Well, I’m going to go back to the hotel to have a first-class meal,” Chloe turned her nose up at her classmates. “... Dupain-Cheng, would you like to come?”

Shock painted the faces of the whole classroom. Did Chloe just... Ask Marinette something... Politely?

“I’d love to take that offer, Chloe.” Responded the bluenette, graceful and flawless as ever. “Perhaps tomorrow?”

“Suit yourself. They’re serving lobster today.” Chloe huffed. “If you’re really that busy, then fine. We can discuss...” The Mayor’s daughter trailed off as she blushed.

The bluenette giggled knowingly. “You’d like to commission a dress from me, right?”

“... No.”

“...”

“... Maybe.”

“Alright.” Marinette nodded. “Then maybe it’ll be more convenient if I head over to the hotel after school. I’ll need to take your measurements and we can discuss the prices after.”

“Whatever.” Chloe waved her away haughtily, a poor effort to cover up her embarrassment. “Sabrina. Let’s go.”

“Chloe?” Alya guffawed. “Why are you commissioning something from Marinette?”

Rolling her eyes as if Alya had just asked the stupidest question ever, Chloe answered plainly. “Because she’s one of the up-and-rising designers in the industry? Have you seen what Dupain-Cheng is wearing today? Celebrities are already fighting for spots in her commission list. Even my mother and Gabriel Agreste acknowledge her talent. I’m not dumb, Cesaire. I can recognise a future fashion queen when I see one.”

Wow, Marinette breathed, looking at the stunned faces around the room, Chloe sure knows how to create an impression.

“W— Well.” Stuttered the reporter after Chloe made her big exit. “Then... What about going to the bakery for lunch?”

“Didn’t Lila say she saw a rat in the bakery the last time she visited it?” Marinette pointed out. “The health officer checked the surveillance and the claim was dismissed, of course, because my parents make sure the bakery is as hygienic as possible— But I’m sure Lila is traumatised from that incident. I wouldn’t want to force her to come along to the bakery— And we wouldn’t want to leave her out either, right?”

This elicited another round of groans.

Oh, I am enjoying myself way too much, Marinette chuckled mentally.

“Then— Then...” Alya struggled visibly before she was put out of her misery.

“It’s fine, Alya.” The designer reassured her. “I wouldn’t want to bother Lila. I’m sure she’s still upset at me. You guys go ahead. I have to go back to the bakery to help my parents out. See you guys after!”

──────── ⋆⋅❉⋅⋆ ────────

Slam!

Lila fumed, hand still pressed on her locker door. What. The. Hell. Was Mari-brat trying to do? She didn’t miss the way some of her classmates sent her unsatisfactory looks after that pre-lunch stunt that Marinette had pulled.

And what was the thing about high-and-mighty Chloe commissioning from Marinette?

Sure, Lila would admit that the cardigan that the designer made was indeed gorgeous, and the fabric was smooth and velvety, a quality unlike any of the clothing that Lila had ever had the privilege to touch— But surely a lowly brat like Dupain-Cheng couldn’t be that popular... Right?

Dammit, hissed the Italian girl, Maybe I should’ve tried being friends with Mari-brat instead of Cesaire.

──────── ⋆⋅❉⋅⋆ ────────

“Is that... Marinette and Kagami?” Nino gaped, prompting Alya to turn around. It was true— Walking up the steps of Francois Dupont together were the two blue-haired girls, a gentle smile dancing on Kagami’s lips as Marinette talked animatedly, her hands waving around quickly to further elaborate her point.

Students lounging around the entrance for lunch couldn’t tear their eyes off the two and their matching dresses. Sure, the two girls had walked into school the same way that morning— But now that the afternoon sun was high up in the sky, the golden and silver embroidery was glinting luminously, revealing the true caliber of Marinette’s craft.

“But... They’re rivals.” Stuttered Alya. She just couldn’t understand... Weren’t they supposed to hate each other?

“They both like Adrien but they can still get along,” Nino remarked thoughtfully, taking a bite from his sandwich. “So Marinette wasn’t lying about going to meet Kagami yesterday.”

Alya was silent.

“Alya? What’s wrong?” Worried, Nino put a hand around his girlfriend’s shoulder, care and concern shining through his honest eyes.

“If... If Marinette doesn’t get jealous or biased over someone who also likes Adrien...” Alya started quietly, eyes still fixed on the two girls, “Then why was she so against Lila?”

──────── ⋆⋅❉⋅⋆ ────────

“Mlle. Bustier?” The teacher looked up at the voice of her favourite student. Fondly, she smiled. Marinette had finally seen the light and changed her ways, becoming the helpful, generous, kind Marinette that served as a great example for her peers. “May I make an announcement before class ends?”

“Of course, dear.” Mlle. Bustier gave permission instantly— Marinette was taking up the reins of leadership again! The teacher couldn’t help but do a happy dance internally.

“I have an announcement to make, so if everyone could listen, I’d be really thankful.” Marinette started, her clear blue eyes meeting those of her classmates.

She took a deep breath. This is it. I’ve done what I needed to do, now it’s time to finish the job.

“These past two days... Have been great,” Marinette started wistfully. “I really missed hanging around everyone, just like we did before,” Before you all turned your backs on me and stabbed me when I wasn’t looking, “But I can’t deny— And neither can you— That the things that have happened... They had a really deep impact. And I’ve realised that I can’t just ignore that damage that has been done.” The damage that has been done to me. “So, for the better of everyone— I’ve decided that I... Will transfer classes.”

It was as if an explosion had gone off in Mlle. Bustier’s classroom.

“Girl! You can’t do that!” Alya exclaimed in dismay, “We can fix things! Everything has been going well these few days, haven’t they?”

“Dudette! Honestly, we forgive you.” Nino sighed, “Things just aren’t the same if you’re not here anymore.”

Adrien didn’t say a word, but the imploring gaze he wore said enough. Please don’t leave me here alone. We promised we’d fight together, right? As long as both of us know...

Marinette held her hand up to silence them, and the classroom, just as swiftly, became the deadly silence that followed post-disaster. “I understand. But once again, this is for the better,” — Of my mental health, “I’ve talked to Mlle. Mendeliev, and she’s agreed to take me in. I believe that once the changes have taken place, we can all grow more freely without restrictions.”

In the corner, Mlle. Bustier was tearing up and dabbing at her eyes with her sleeve.

“Mlle. Bustier,” Marinette turned to her teacher, no malice in her eyes. “I’ll be under Mlle. Mendeliev’s care now.”

“Marinette...” The teacher sobbed quietly, with Chloe shooting her a look of disgust from the front row.

“It’s not going to be easy for any of us,” Marinette turned back to the class, “But with time, I’m sure we will all prosper. Especially since you will now be under the care of our one and only Lila Rossi.”

Adrien looked like someone had just killed a puppy in front of him.

“Since I am the current class president, I thought I’d pass on the duties onto the most capable person in our class.” Marinette explained warmly, never moving her gaze away from the bewildered Lila. “Lila has the most connections in our class out of all of us, and she’s met so many CEOs and entrepreneurs that she must know a lot about organising and planning. I’m sure you can do it, Lila, but...” She paused. “You can handle it, right?”

“Y— Yeah. Of course.” Lila stuttered.

“You promised the class that you’d get BTS to perform for the year-end fundraiser since you were supposed to be in an arranged marriage with their youngest member, Jungkook.” Marinette continued, God I am enjoying myself too much honestly, but I ain’t going to stop now, “And you said you could convince your godfather, Bruce Wayne, to allow the class to go to Wayne Enterprises for this year’s class trip.”

“She said she could convince Tony Hawk to give me an internship, too!” Alix chipped in.

“And that she’d bring me along the next time Prince Ali asks for her help for a charity cause!” Rose smiled.

“She said she’d introduce me to the CEO of Graham Films!” Nino’s eyes shone at the idea.

The class continued to talk all over one another until Marinette silenced them once more. “Now, now. Let’s not overwhelm Lila. We wouldn’t want her to be overworked or to feel like the expectations are set too high, right?”

The class agreed, nodding along.

Marinette made eye contact with Lila, offering her a sweet smile as she did so. Lila, on the other hand, had no taste for such politeness. Instead, she straight-out glared at the former class president.

This is your problem now.

──────── ⋆⋅❉⋅⋆ ────────

“Marinette! I was hoping to catch you before you went home,” Alya panted, having been able to find the bluenette in the locker room before the designer slipped out of her reach. “You... You’re really serious about leaving?”

“Yeah.” Smiled Marinette, organising her textbooks into her bag, dusting down her skirt. Noticing Alya’s crestfallen expression, she took the initiative to continue the conversation. “Is there anything else, Alya?”

“Did you... Did you really hate Lila because she liked Adrien, too?” The reporter asked somewhat timidly.

Marinette giggled. Normally, when the girl giggled, you could hear a gentle tinkling of wind chimes— But at that moment, Alya heard the freezing winds on Mount Everest instead. “Don’t be silly, Alya. All this over a boy? Besides, I’m over him.”

“Then...” Alya swallowed difficulty. “Lila... Really was lying this whole time?”

The gaze that swept across the reporter was stone cold, and it made Alya feel as if she was dangling over a valley of jagged rocks. “What do you think, Alya?” Even so, the bluenette maintained a sweet smile.

“She was. She was lying the whole time.” Alya suddenly felt as if she had a shortness of air. “This whole time—”

“Oh, good for you. You finally learned how to see further than one feet in front of you.” Marinette hummed. “I’m proud of you, really. But I’m afraid that I don’t have the time to listen to you slowly come to conclusions after I’ve tried making you see sense for the past half a year. I tried to stop you from ruining your futures, but I guess determination was always one of your good traits.”

Alya slipped to the floor, having lost the feeling in her legs. She placed one hand against the lockers for support as she shook, weakly looking up at the girl who she was once so proud to call her ‘best friend’.

“Marinette?” Kagami’s voice rang through the room, indicating that the girl was waiting at the doorway. “You said you were heading to Bourgeois’s hotel after school— Would you like a ride?”

“That’d be nice, Kagami. A moment.” The designer looked down at her friend and smiled, albeit a little sadly this time— And then she lowered her voice.

“Determination was always one of your good traits.”

──────── ⋆⋅❉⋅⋆ ────────

“Marinette,” Adrien perked up at the sight of the bluenette leaving the school doors— Side by side with Kagami, who looked ready to draw a sword and start a duel then and there.

“This’ll just take a minute, ‘Gami.” Marinette reassured, gently patting her friend’s arm. “Why don’t you get in the car first? It looks like it’s going to rain.”

Reluctantly, Kagami nodded. “Alright.” Warily, the fencer stepped down the stairs and into the car— But even as she sat in the vehicle, she watched over her fellow bluenette like a hawk, ready to jump out and challenge the blonde if the situation called for it.

Adrien rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly, not quite knowing what to say. Luckily for him, the designer decided to start the conversation.

“I just wanted to say thank you.” Marinette smiled softly. A few months ago, when she looked at Adrien, she would see the kind, generous, pure-hearted boy with the finest golden hair and the brightest green eyes. Now? All she saw was a spineless, sheltered, passive child that was afraid of confrontations.

“For what?” Adrien looked at Marinette, and no longer did he see the cute, pigtail-adorning girl that would blush fiercely everytime he tried to talk to her. Instead, he saw a beautiful, young woman, a rock that had pulled through all the odds to become a vibrant, iridescent diamond.

Marinette was glowing with confidence, her presence diffusing into the air around her and triggering eyes to look up every time she walked by. There was something about the way she held herself that just made the woman demand awe and respect from those that crossed her path. The old ‘Clumsinette’ had been shed like an old snake skin to reveal a treasure, a better version of the bluenette that had always been waiting for her time to come.

Bluebell eyes met green ones just as rain began to patter down onto the streets of Paris. Marinette glanced up slightly, not at all bothered as she smoothly retrieved an umbrella from her bag, holding it out for the blonde to take. A flush of deja vu burst through Adrien’s veins and through his skin as he took it with a mumbled thanks, eyes blown wide as Marinette let loose her hair from her ponytail, pulling her blazer over her head to avoid getting her head wet.

Adrien could only gape as Marinette uttered familiar words back to him, a knowing smile dancing across her lips as she ran off into the rain as if an invisible weight had been lifted off her shoulders. The bluenette looked lighter, brighter, ready to take flight and soar towards the success that her crops of hard work had finally started to bear. Before the blonde model knew it, Marinette Dupain-Cheng had slipped out of his grip, already spreading her multi-coloured wings to land among the stars.

“Thank you for telling me to take the high road.”

──────── ⋆⋅❉⋅⋆ ────────

this was both satisfying and tiring to write...

#ml salt #ml saltfic #saltfic #lila salt #marinette dupain-cheng #adrien salt #miraculous ladybug #alya salt #[ris writes]—✧

1K notes · View notes

robininthelabyrinth · 4 years ago

Text

Initiative - aka NMJ and JYL get engaged - ao3 or tumblr pt 1, pt 2

Jiang Yanli’s first engagement had been announced when she was three and a half years old – there had been a big party, festooned in color, exquisitely and meticulously planned out in advance, and she’d been obliged to stand on stage next to a baby in a cradle that had done nothing but cry and spit as all the adults around her congregated and congratulated each other on the excellent match.

She hadn’t enjoyed that at all.

Her second wedding announcement was simultaneously more casual and more noteworthy, and she enjoyed it tremendously.

Madame Jin had sent several invitations to Jiang Yanli to come visit Lanling in advance of the hunt planned for Phoenix Mountain, speaking of how beautiful it was and how much she looked forward to seeing her good friend’s daughter – talking about she’d always regretted how Jiang Yanli had been obligated by circumstances to take shelter at the Unclean Realm rather than in Lanling City, although she’d been pleased to hear from her son that she was doing well – all the right sort of words. The words might have been more welcome if Jiang Yanli hadn’t known that Madame Jin was still intent on securing the marriage she had arranged.

If she hadn’t been engaged, she would have accepted the invitation, hoping to form an alliance for her sect through a close relationship with Madame Jin even if she didn’t have one with Jin Zixuan (no matter what Madame Jin hoped), but as she was, in fact, engaged to another – even if it hadn’t been formally announced – it would be inappropriate to go. So she instead played ignorant and responded graciously, protesting that she couldn’t possibly impose, that the rebuilding at the Lotus Pier needed her, but that she would of course be happy to attend the hunt alongside the rest of her sect.

She arrived at her brother’s side, smiling all the while.

Her second engagement was announced like this: Sect Leader Jin, using his newly legitimized son as his mouthpiece, had brought forward some ghastly ‘entertainment’ that involved shooting at helpless prisoners, tied up in chains. Jin Zixuan had complied, but Wei Wuxian had marched out and disrupted everything by showing off to a ridiculous extent – Nie Mingjue, who had been watching with a black face full of rage but unable to speak due to propriety, had started applauding very loudly and very enthusiastically – and Sect Leader Jin had ordered the prisoners taken away.

“Well, then,” he said, clapping as if he had impressed himself: as if they hadn’t just been subjected to a powerplay under the guise of hospitality, as if everyone would be over-awed by his might now that they had seen him abuse the helpless while they were all forced by the rules of etiquette to say nothing or else risk carrying the blame for trying to start another war. “Absent anything else, we should proceed to the hunt itself, where await you only the finest of prey and the sharpest competition among your peers.”

For the further display of the power of the Jin sect, he meant.

“Actually,” Nie Mingjue said, interjecting in a moment in which Sect Leader Jin had paused to take a breath so that it was technically not an interruption, “there is one thing. A request, in fact.”

Sect Leader Jin’s eyes narrowed in suspicion, but he maintained his false smile. “Of course, Sect Leader Nie. What can I do for you?”

“I’m getting married,” Nie Mingjue said. “The bride is Young Mistress Jiang, of Yunmeng Jiang, and I would like –” He raised his voice to overcome the abrupt explosion of talk that had erupted. “– I would like to have her accompany my sect in today’s hunt. I hope that doesn’t interfere with your plans for a competition between the sects?”

There were those who said that Jiang Yanli’s chosen husband was bad at politics, and they might even be right. But it didn’t really matter in the end if he’d thought of the idea on a whim or if it’d been a prearranged plan by Nie Huaisang, who was cleverer than he liked to let on to people, Jiang Yanli’s future husband had still wiped away in a single sentence all memory of the farce they’d all just endured and of the hunt that was yet to come, ensuring that the only thing anyone would remember about today was the shocking news of the engagement of the leader of one Great Sect to the sister of another.

(And if everyone remembered that at the last celebration hosted by Sect Leader Jin, he had proposed to resurrect the marriage between Jiang Yanli and his own son, instead, forcing her to publicly demur on vague terms…well, that just made it all the more satisfying.)

Now it was Sect Leader Jin’s turn to scowl and glare, and Madame Jin’s expression looked no less thunderous, but in the end Jiang Yanli got to go with the Nie sect on the hunt.

“You know I’ll only slow you down,” she said to Nie Mingjue, who snorted.

“No more than Huaisang will,” he said, and if his face was stern and his voice gruff then she still thought she detected fondness and humor beneath it. “Besides, it’ll be a good opportunity to measure you.”

It turned out that he meant that more literally than she might have thought.

Jiang Yanli was promptly whisked away to the back of the Nie retinue by a small cadre of Nie disciples, men and women both. She was presented with a number of training sabers shaped out of wood and made to hold them in a variety of positions as they murmured things about stability and reach and balance as if they really, truly thought that she would actually use the saber they were preparing for her.

“This one,” Nie Jiahui, a steely older woman with silver in her hair and fierce eyes, eventually announced, and the practice saber Jiang Yanli had been waving around was taken away. She was then presented with one that was twice as heavy, for “practice”.

“Do you always practice with something heavier than the actual thing?” she asked, and Nie Jiahui nodded.

“Strengthens the shoulders,” she said, curt but not standoffish. “Have some candy.”

Jiang Yanli blinked, but smiled and accepted the offer. It was licorice, which she liked.

“Do you often carry candy with you on night-hunts?” she asked, listening to the sound of fighting from up ahead. Every so often, a disciple or two would trot by carrying the corpses of larger and larger creatures, slain in the fighting; it seemed that the Nie sect was not, in fact, being slowed down in the slightest by her presence.

Of course, she also wasn’t being tended to as if she were their chosen lady, either, as she might have otherwise expected – all pomp and flowery language, Nie Mingjue by her side at all times to show her around as if they were on a pleasure stroll – but in all honesty that would have been a little bewildering. It was very much not the Nie sect’s character, all practical and straightforward, and she found that she preferred it that way.

“It’s important to have something to replenish energy,” Nie Huaisang said, having dropped back to join them from the front. He looked tired and grumpy, but his saber appeared to have been put to some work; he immediately climbed up into the carriage that people were taking turns riding and started cleaning it. “And licorice candy clears the lungs.”

“Clears the lungs?” Jiang Yanli asked.

“It’s good for more than that,” Nie Jiahui said. “But that’s one of the uses, yes. Do you ever feel like your chest is too tight, especially when you move too much? Leading to coughing, shortness of breath, your lips turning blue?”

Jiang Yanli blinked. “Yes,” she said. “But that’s just because I was born with a weak body.”

Nie Jiahui scoffed and Nie Huaisang laughed. “Good luck with that,” he said cheerfully. “I was born with muscles that didn’t keep their tone: too flexible, incapable of gathering strength, requiring more energy to do less, making me twice as tired twice as fast – even sitting up straight can be a struggle in some extreme cases, though luckily not mine. And do you think that helped me one bit in getting out of saber training? It did not.”

“Early childhood intervention is best,” Nie Jiahui said. “But the next best is starting today. I’ll show you some low-impact exercises that you can start working on to strengthen your shoulders and stomach, as well as some balance movements to center yourself and improve your posture – that way, by the time your actual saber is ready, you’ll be able to take it through one of the basic routines.”

“I’m happy to learn whatever you have to teach,” Jiang Yanli said, ignoring Nie Huaisang’s dramatic cry of ‘And here I thought you’d be on my side!’ “I only regret troubling you.”

“Not at all,” Nie Jiahui said. “It’ll be good to have someone watching the Sect Leader’s back on night-hunts.”

Jiang Yanli felt a surge of terror and excitement in her belly. “He would trust me with that? You would trust me with that?”

“I did tell you that you’d need to keep up with him,” Nie Huaisang said mildly, and it was true, he had, only she’d assumed it was a bit more metaphorical. “You don’t have to fight or even walk too much, if it doesn’t suit you – my grandmother was lame in both her legs from a childhood illness, she rode everywhere, scariest woman I’ve ever met by far – but you do have to be there. Someone needs to be able to tell my brother to stop. Someone he’ll listen to.”

And wasn’t that something of a thrill to think of?

Jiang Yanli wasn’t someone anyone listened to – not her parents, not her brother, not her sect disciples. She’d always been the one who comforted them afterwards, who supported them; she made them food and tried to convince them to be kinder to each other, and sometimes they even tried for a while before getting into another tiff. They would kill for her if she so much as hinted at it, tear down the sky for her, but it was more in the nature of indulging her rather than actually allowing them to guide her.

Yet here was Chifeng-zun, a war hero and a sect leader, one of the most powerful men in the world, a man admired by men and sought after (even if only in their hearts) by women, and his family was telling her that he would listen to her.

“If you say so,” she demurred, but they insisted, and by the time the hunt was over Jiang Yanli was surprised to realize that she hadn’t needed to resort to sitting on the carriage more than twice the entire time.

“We’ll send Auntie Jiahui to the Lotus Pier after today’s hunt is done,” Nie Huaisang chattered cheerfully in her ear as they headed back towards Jinlin Tower. “She’ll work you through your paces, believe you me, and all the supplemental things, too – making sure you eat the right thing, take medicinal baths to improve your meridians, apply massages to loosen your joints…those parts are nice, actually. Take care of your body as you would your saber, take care of your saber as you would your wife! That’s how the saying goes. Trust me, you’ll be regretting the whole thing soon enough.”

Jiang Yanli didn’t think she would. “You seem very confident that A-Cheng will allow you to do as you please, even in the Lotus Pier.”

“I’ll tell him it concerns secret Nie sect marriage rituals,” Nie Jiahui interjected. “When two women are involved, men tend to run away when the words ‘marriage’ and ‘secret’ are combined.”

Sadly, she was probably right.

“Show me those exercises again,” she requested, and Nie Jiahui climbed up on to the carriage to show her the ones she could do even while sitting down.

Jiang Yanli might never have had the opportunity to strengthen herself before, and she was moderately certain that she wouldn’t have too much success now, as the various tricks Nie Jiahui had taught her were largely body refinement, barely reliant on qi, and her cultivation was still as low as ever.

But she was good at devoting herself to learning something when she wanted to, and as soon the hunt at Phoenix Mountain was over and they had shifted over to the various feasts and meetings that Lanling Jin had planned for the rest of the week, she began her efforts at self-improvement in earnest.

The weak body her mother had always despaired of might always be weak – Nie Jiahui had been quite blunt on that subject, making it clear that nothing she was suggesting was some sort of miracle pill, and furthermore that there was nothing wrong with being weak as long as she made an effort (Nie Huaisang had been the recipient of several pointed looks there) – but Jiang Yanli was determined to at least demonstrate that she was trying.

A gesture of good faith, perhaps. Some small show of initiative.

Nie Huaisang had said that Nie Mingjue appreciated her initiative.

“A-Xian,” she called one morning, only a few days later. “A-Xian, are you going out for a walk? Let me come with you.”

“You’ve gone on a lot of walks recently,” Wei Wuxian laughed, but allowed her to take his arm as they walked into the crowd. “Do you like Lanling City so much?”

“It’s the exercise I’m after,” she said, smiling at him. “The Nie sect is a martial sect, remember? I’ll be going on more night-hunts in the future, if all goes well, and I’ll need to keep up.”

“Oh, but surely they’ll bring a carriage..? I don’t know if you really need to go on night-hunts –”

“I want to! It’ll be nice. Don’t worry about me so much, A-Xian –”

Wei Wuxian was shaking his head, smiling, and he wasn’t looking where he was going; perhaps that was why he bumped into the young woman.

But then she looked up at him, and he looked down at her, and he froze.

“Wen Qing?”

#mdzs #jiang yanli #nie mingjue #nie huaisang #wei wuxian #my fic #my fics #initiative #the untamed #includes my medical HCs for JYL and NHS #but no actual medical incidents

1K notes · View notes

1001scoganmusings · 3 years ago

Text

Thoughts of you consume me

Warnings: [18+], glory hole kink, oral, brief mentions of vaginal sex, teterophilia

What!? Black hat discovering he might have feelings for Flug in the middle of fucking someone else? More likely than you think babes.

Word count: 3.3k

Minors for the love of god plz stay away

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Black hat looked at the business card in his hand then up at the neon sign that read pleasure palace in big bright red letters as it flashed on and off above him.

It was a private club who solely catered to high ranking villains only. You could only get in if you had been invited or were brought as a guest.

They were pretty hard to find considering the location changed from week to week. This insured absolute secrecy not only for the patrons but also the staff.

He had heard about this place from a business associate of his and had been told it was great for, letting off steam. He pocketed the card placing it in one of the hidden pockets of his coat as he walked up the front steps pulling on the brass handle of the door and walked in.

His footsteps clicked against the pristine flooring that was polished white marble with a gold trim.

He heard soft chattering as he walked through the lobby full of other villains waiting to get in.

Some of them were buyers from him and not even high ranking. The nerve to even claim to be he thought.

Delicate roses cut from ruby were scattered along the marble columns. Emerald cut in to exquisite leaves and vines that spiraled down the length of the column complimenting the dark red walls behind them.

Along the walls were Grecian paintings in golden frames. The paintings showed star crossed lovers or forbidden romances such as Eros and psyche. Classy but maybe a bit too over kill thought black hat as he passed by them.

A thin and lanky werewolf rushed over to greeted him. “Good evening lord black hat.” He said giving a polite bow. “If we had known you’d be coming we would’ve had someone greet you upon entering our fine establishment.”

“It’s fine,” Black hat said waving away anymore apologies the wolf might have. “ -just lead the way.”

“Right.” The werewolf said uttering a nervous laugh. “Please right this way.”

He could feel the indignant and jealous stares from the other guests. Angry that they had not been treated with the same level of respect.

But really he didn’t see why he needed to be checked in seeing as he was the highest ranking villain there.

Ridiculous really. The werewolf led him through the mahogany double doors to a huge room where people were dining and drinking. The werewolf bowed one last time leaving black hat on his own.

Inside up above a large crystal chandelier hung from the ceiling reflecting the soft candle light from the tables giving the room a romantic feel to it. Soft music played in the background as men and women of all kinds sat at tables drinking and smoking. Flirting with one another trying to gain attention from the patrons.

He saw a gargoyle man heatedly kissing an incubus woman in one of the corner booths.

His strong arms wrapped around her waist as she ground her hips into his.

Their limbs tangled around one another making it hard to tell where one ended and one began.

Further in a minator stood in front of a large glass tank with a love stricken expression on his face as a mermaid with pale blue skin and black eyes blew heart bubbles at him from underwater.

She batted her lashes at him coquettishly. The scales of her tail reflecting the room’s warm light giving it a dazzling shimmering effect.

He passes by a group of scantily clad werecat women that were already entertaining it seemed.

A goblin sat in a secluded corner of the room on a loveseat with his head thrown back and was moaning softly as two of the werecat women had their heads in his lap.

Each massaging one side of his large balls in the palm of their hands while simultaneously running their tongues up and down his shaft, purring as they did so. He brought his head up to look down just as one of them took the tip in to her mouth as the other laved at one of his balls. His big hands tangled in their hair carful of their sensitive ears as the other women kissed on his mouth and neck. One of them caught black hat staring and winked at him. Her jade green eyes playful as she threw him a flirtatious fanged smile. He paid her no mind and kept walking to the desk in the back of the room.

A pixie woman with tawny brown skin greeted him as he arrived. She wore a dress that looked as if it was made out of delicate white butterfly wings that accentuated her own translucent gossamer wings.

Her beautiful opal eyes even more striking against her green eyelashes.

She smiled at him dimples showing as she tucked a lose piece of her green hair behind her pointed ear revealing a golden ear cuff encrusted with rubies.

It ran from the tip of her ear all the way down to her earlobe.

“Hello Lord Black Hat.” she said in a high cheery voice also bowing her head politely, her Scottish accent thick.

“I am Mrs. Demir. How may I be of service to you this fine evening?”

“I was told there were fine entertainments to be had here.” Her eyes glittered with mischief as he spoke.

“Oh yes we have all kinds here.” she smiled at blackhat, showing a full set of small razor sharp teeth. Her mouth stretched thin at the corners making it look as if her skin didn’t fit her body quite right. As if it were too small for her. She was in his opinion horrifyingly beautiful. The kind of woman he might try to bed any other night. “What per say were you wanting sir?”

“Something private.” He emphasized the last word.

“All out rooms are private sir. Its what makes our establishment the best.” she said trying her best to sound reassuring.

“No,” he said correcting her. “- I mean I prefer for this encounter to remain completely anonymous for both parties.” Black hat wasn’t in the mood for fake pleasantries tonight. He wanted to fuck and get out as soon as possible.

“Oh, of course my mistake sir. Forgive me for misunderstanding.” She said flustered at having gotten such an important customers request wrong. She quickly continued on trying to cover up her mistake. “Will this be an overnight visit or-“

“No I will be leaving right after.” He said gruffly sliding a hefty wad of cash to her across the desk.

“I see.” she said thoughtfully as she opened the register and deposited the money in to it. Her thin long fingers reaching under the desk an pulling out a key card. “Then if I may, I suggest room 27. They have such compliments from their regulars. I think they’re exactly what your looking for.”

She gave him instructions to go on through the double doors and up the flight of stairs to the 2nd floor. Once there she instructed him to be sure to only enter the second to last stall once he was inside the room.

Black hat did as he was told going through another set of mahogany double doors and up another set of stairs. The inside was much larger that it looked from the outside. He supposed it was part of the enchantment that was placed on the building.

He walked down the hallway following the numbers 17, 18, 19, he passed a couple who looked as if they just couldn’t be bothered to wait till they were inside their room.

A woman, human it looked like with her dress hiked up panties moved to the side, and a tall hulking Sphinx man who was wildly driving in to her.

Her hands and face pressed up against the wall as one of the spinx’s clawed tipped hands that was wrapped entirely around her waist and was he pulling her back on to his cock making wet squelching noises as he did. His other hand held up her leg gripping the back of her knee. The angle letting him drive deeper in to her sopping wet cunt. Juices running down her leg as her body shook from the force of his thrusts. His wings expanding each time he bottomed out. Her cries of ecstasy echoing in the quiet hallway. 25, 26, 27. Thank hell he thought done with seeing others in the throws of passion. He scanned the key card through the card scanner and pushed open the black door to room 27 hurriedly walking inside. He heard the soft click of the door closing behind him echoing through the room.

The room was bathed in a dim neon pink light that lined the ceiling giving the room an eerie yet seductive air about it. He had half expected it to be dingy and filthy but to his surprise it was relatively clean. Not a very common thing for places like this but a very welcome change.

He passed by a single sink and mirror followed by urinals that lined the walls on both sides as he went further in to the room till he came to two stalls in the corner. He could hear a heart beat on the other side indicating that there was indeed someone in there.

He opened the door to the unoccupied stall as he was instructed and went in locking it behind him. There was a sign on the stall wall written in black cursive letters that read knock and insert here with an arrow pointing to a hole in the wall.

Excitement ran through him. He’d never tried a glory hole before. He undid his belt and fly pulling out his 11in cock already half hard. He sighed softly giving himself a couple of firm strokes feeling himself harden in his hand. It had been awhile since he let himself indulge in the pleasures of the flesh. His schedule was so booked lately that there just didn’t seem to be any time for it. The last straw being when he started to imagine what Flug would look like on his knees with his lips wrapped around his cock as he gagged on it during a meeting with a very important client. The thought shocking him enough to reschedule and rush to the bathroom to take care of his problem. He knew right there and then that something had to be done before he acted out of foolishness. No good would come of having liaisons with employees. None.

Black hat knocked before sliding his erect cock through the hole. He let his hands rest on the wall in front of him as he waited. A warm hand on the other side took hold of him and kissed the tip. The warmth of their palm making him sigh as they rhythmically stroked him from base to tip.

He shivered as warm soft lips trailed up and down his shaft leaving hot open mouthed kisses in their wake. Tongue occasionally peaking out to trace up and down all the veins and ridges on his cock.

Black hat let his head fall back as he felt the tension in his whole body melt away with each caress of their hand and lips. This. This is what black hat had been craving, no needing. Someone to just worship his cock. No questions or useless polite talk of any kind. Just someone who gave him exactly what he asked for with out any hassle or emotional crap.

He groaned low in his throat as the tip of their tongue teased the underside of his cock making it twitch for them. Maybe it really had been too long if they were so easily able to pull these reactions from him black hat thought to himself.

He didn’t need to see to know that pre was dribbling out from his slit in thick rivulets. He felt their tongue lap at his leaking slit and lick up the cum that leaked down the sides of his shaft making sure to leave him clean and shiny with spit. The image of Flug down on his knees lapping up his cum came to mind. The image making him utter a choked moan. Why the fuck was he thinking about Flug right now?! What the hell was wrong with him?!

He shook his head trying to clear his mind but again his ridiculous mind brought up the image of Flug on the other side of the wall on his knees swirling his tongue slowly around the head teasing his slit with the pointed tip of his tongue.

Black hat bit his lip to keep from moaning as warm breath wafted over his cock driving him crazy with want. Maybe not seeing had been a mistake.

“Fuck.” he gasped, his hips gave small thrusts trying to get them to get on with it. But to his dismay they just continued their onslaught of tantalizing and teasing touches. Black hat tried hard to picture someone else. Anyone else, but it was no use. No matter who he imagined his mind kept turning back to Flug. He no longer was trying to fight his traitorous mind about Flug. Letting it win in what it wanted to see.

He pictured Flug closing those pouty pink lips of his around the head and bobbing in earnest, massaging the underside with his tongue just as they were.

Fuck picturing his pathetic and clumsy scientist doing something so perverse, so delectably sinful, was turning him on like nothing else ever had.

He’d need to revisit why later. But for now he threw it to the dogs and let his mind wander back to his fantasy.

His legs shook at how rough imaginary flug was being. Tugging on him just right with every pull back making sure to hollow his cheeks giving just the perfect amount of suction. It was pure bliss.

Drool dripped down black hat’s chin as he could hardly contain his noises anymore. God it was humiliating to be heard like this but at the same time so exhilarating. He could let go and not worry about anything because this person would never know who he was. It was maddening to him how relinquishing control during sex was turning him on so much as if he was a young demon again getting his dick wet for the first time. He wasn’t used to giving up control seeing as he had no one he could really trust. Not true his mind whispered going back to Flug. As a demon it was just unheard of for something like that to happen. But then again when had he ever followed demon societal norms.

He heard an inhale from the other side as felt the head of his cock slip into their throat wishing with all his being it was Flug. The in human roar he let out echoed in the empty bathroom. Tentacles sprung up from his body slithering up the wall and over the floor as they gaged around him. He pictured Flug looking up at him with those big doe eyes filled with worship and adoration. Gaging his reactions to see what best pleased him. And god was Flug good at pleasing black hat, even if black hat never acknowledged it.

Flug kept going till all of him was sheathed in his throat. His legs shook from the effort it took to just stand still and just enjoy the wonderful wet heat around him. It was taking all his self control to not just phase through the wall and just start face fucking whoever was on the other side.

Flug hollowed his cheeks pulling back torturously slow, lewd slurping noises sounding too loud in the quiet of the room. He kept going till only the tip of black hat’s cock was in his mouth before going back down taking him all the way down again and again and again.

He let his forehead rest against the wall as the claws on his hands dug in to it leaving deep scratch marks. He closed his eyes pressing himself as close to the wall as he possibly could surrendering to the talented mouth on the other side all the while imagining it was his idiot scientist.

Fuck it felt good. Too good. Black hat could feel himself nearing his end already and the session had only just begun. His cock feeling as though it was melting from all the wondrous attention it was receiving. How Flug’s tight hot throat was squeezing him just right every time he swallowed around him.

Was it simply the anonymity of this encounter making him feel this good? Or was it his fantasy of Flug so attentively sucking his cock? He wasn’t sure and at the moment could be bothered to care as they moaned around his cock. The vibrations threatening to send him over the edge when they suddenly pulled off.

He let out a menacing growl that reverberated throughout the room. He felt them line themselves up with his cock and thrust back on to it. Their walls fluttering around him as they tried to accommodate his monstrous size. Black hat waisted no time and began thrusting into the tight channel.

The image of Flug laying flat on his stomach sprawled out on black hat’s bed. Black hat’s hands on either side of Flug’s head as he drove in to him wildly from behind making Flug scream his name. Oh how he’d fuck Flug, fuck him until flug begged him to stop. And even then he might not.

Fuck he was close, so close. The flimsy stall wall shaking with each rough thrust. Liquid fire pooled in his belly ready to burst at any moment. Hurried wet slapping noises and muffled moans came from the other side as their body suddenly clenched down hard on his length. His eyes slamming shut from the intensity of the pleasure. The acrid tang of blood filled his mouth as he bit his lip to conceal his voice as he thrust in a few more times before he too came. Hilting in them one final time before stilling his hips as he shot thick hot spirts of cum in to them, a soft whisper of Flug’s name falling from his lips. Black hat’s thighs trembled as their walls milked him so deliciously.

All that could be heard now was his own labored breathing. Black hat let his softening cock slip from their body. Tearing off a few pieces of toilet paper from the holder and wiping himself clean before tucking himself back in and zipping up his pants.

He exited the stall and walked out of the room. Black hat snapped his fingers and teleported himself back to the mansion, not particularly in the mood to see people rutting against one another like animals.

As he walked the halls back to his office he accidentally bumped too hard in to Flug as he turned a corner knocking the man down to the ground.

“Sorry boss I didn’t see you there.” He said in a nervous tone as he looked up at black hat.

There they were again. The disgusting thoughts. His mind telling him to pin Flug to the ground and fuck him till he couldn’t walk properly.

“Boss?” Flug said confused by black hat’s silence and intense stare.

Flug’s voice bring him out of his thoughts. “Stay out of my sight you pathetic worm.” He said as viscously as he could walking right over Flug and continuing on to his office. Keeping his desires in check was going to be a lot harder than he thought.

#villainous #villanos #paperhat #black hat #dr Flug #teteraphilia #monster x human #black hat x dr flug #monster lover #demon x human #lemon

243 notes · View notes

chaoswithinstars · 3 years ago

Text

fallen from grace [Tomioka G.]

CW: blood, biting, demon!reader, dom!reader

When you were turned into a demon, Giyuu was certain you would be like the rest of them. He had no hope and was fully prepared to take your life, to end your suffering as a bloodthirsty animal but you ran, faster and stronger because of your human blood still racing through your veins. He searched for you, interrogated other demons for years until he stopped seeing the point. Giyuu tried so hard not to think of you, pushing his memories of your time together into the furthest reaches of his mind until he met the siblings, seen the girl protect her human brother. That tiny flame of hope Giyuu tucked away in his soul became a wildfire and all thoughts of you came rushing back along with heartbreaking yearning for your gentle touch.

He started searching once again, efforts tripled until he finally found you. He found you at a lakeside, sitting on a mossy rock and humming a familiar tune. You looked like a goddess, framed by idyllic forest and the fireflies dancing in the night. You didn't change much. Your hair was longer, tips crimson, your eyes were no longer that brilliant shade you loved the most as a human but you were still all soft curves and gentle smiles. You looked at him as if he was all that you've been waiting for, like he was the one who ran away.

Giyuu has always been a good man. Silent, strong and smart, talented with a sword. He was admirable but somewhat oblivious to how other people perceived him. Not to you though. With you, he couldn't hide himself, shove back his desires and darkest thoughts. With you, Giyuu let himself sink into depravity. Maybe it was your demon nature or maybe it was because he remembered you from before- bright smiles, silver tongue and strength hidden beneath a fluffy exterior. Giyuu didn't know nor did he particularly care. Especially now that he has finally found you.

"You're beautiful." Giyuu didn't know what prompted him to break the silence nor why those were the first words to come from his mouth. He was enchanted by your appearance, by your graceful movements as you beckoned him closer. You were still humming that alluring tune, voice so lovely that it resonated somewhere deep in his soul, settling down what little urge to kill you he had.

Maybe it's your presence, that enchanting voice or the alluring scents of nature (of you) that made Giyuu drop all of his walls down. After all, most of his life has been spent in search of you and now that he found you… Why couldn't he let himself enjoy this moment of happiness, a moment so rare in the life of a demon slayer? Giyuu reached out towards you and you took Giyuu's hands in yours, pulling him closer and into your embrace. His lovely blue eyes traced each part of your face, memorizing that which he was already familiar with from a lifetime before. Giyuu was warm in your arms, sinking against your body like a doll whose strings were cut off. You smiled, lips framing your sharp teeth.

"And you're looking as tasty as ever, slayer." Your words made Giyuu's thoughts swim, disconnected. He could not think of anything else but you, making you happy, giving everything he is to you. "I've watched you, little mouse, seen you fight my kind and it made me ravenous."

Giyuu shuddered at your words and yet did nothing. He let you nuzzle his neck, lick a strip up to his jaw. You nibbled on his soft skin, tempting yourself with a taste of his flesh. And yet, Giyuu wasn't afraid. He yearned for more, for a revival of heated memories when you two were the same, when you were both human and weak, equal before the gods.

"It isn't often that a snack enters my den all by himself. Usually, there's more of you wretched humans disturbing my oasis." You speak, breath warm and tickling Giyuu's ear. Your hands pull him onto your lap, making him straddle you. Giyuu looks down at you, brain foggy from all sensations you brought on. "But you, little mouse, you're different. Makes me want to keep you like a good pet."

Giyuu allows you to pull him in for a kiss. It's hunger and fire, consuming him until he feels like nothing will be left of him. He grabs onto your shoulders, nails digging into your clothes as he struggles with himself, with the instincts urging him to rut against you, to moan and beg. Your claws slice through his clothes with ease, baring his skin to the cool air, to your own wandering hands. Giyuu gasps, ripping his mouth away from yours, out of breath. Your name echoes off the trees as you lavish his neck and chest with licks and bites, leaving marks on his pale skin. You break skin with your teeth on his chest, drawing blood. He whimpers as you lick it up then suck on the tiny wound. It's odd and dangerous but still a thrill Giyuu doesn't want to miss out on.

"What a good boy you are." It's a coo, a praise wrapped in a patronizing tone Giyuu usually hated but didn't mind now because it came from you. "Such a good snack, not struggling when I indulge a little taste."

You look into his eyes as your touches become more daring, lips still smiling even as your eyes devoured all of Giyuu's reactions. Giyuu's head fell back once you grasped his dick, fingers wrapping almost too hard around his length but a little pain was good as long as you were touching him.

"Look at me." You commanded and Giyuu obeyed immediately, eyes wide at your harsh tone. He didn't want you to be mad, to stop the movements of your hand. "What kind of a slayer are you? Wanting to fuck a demon of all things. You're messed up, aren't you? Don't worry, I won't tell, it's our little secret."

Giyuu felt his eyes tear up. It's been years since he last cried but your words struck a cord even as he felt pleasure from your hand and the tone of your voice. He felt so ashamed of himself. Indeed, what kind of a slayer was he?

"Are you going to cry, little mouse?" You laughed, hand moving faster over his dick. "I wonder what your friends would say if they could see you now. They'd probably laugh at you. Or maybe some would join me in my fun and we could all have a turn with you."

Giyuu whimpered, teeth clenched over his lips. The thoughts you put in his head were tempting, far too much for him.

"You're so close, aren't you?" You ask, knowing full well that it won't take long before Giyuu broke apart. "Don't worry, you can cum whenever you want."

Giyuu fucked into your fist, enjoying the squeeze of your fingers, every teasing pass over his leaking head, your demeaning yet arousing words. It didn't take that long for him to spill all over your hand, making a mess. A mess you happily fed to him until there was nothing left.

"On your knees, slayer." You ordered, pushing him out of your lap to his knees. Giyuu watched as you stripped, showing yourself off and he wondered what he did to deserve such a treat. Your body seemed to glow with some inner light, once again reminding Giyuu of a goddess. You were terrifying in your beauty and all Giyuu could think of was worshiping every inch of your being. "Good boy."

You sat back on your rock, straightening your left leg until your foot was on Giyuu's shoulder and he placed his trembling hand on your joint. He could feel your eyes on him as he kissed your leg, slowly moving upward until your knee was hooked over his shoulder. Giyuu looked up at you, eyes seeking permission to go further and a moan broke from him as you nodded. He dived in between your legs, arms over your thighs as he kissed then licked and sucked at all the right places of your pussy. Your taste was exquisite, like ambrosia sent down from heavens. Your scent was heady and your soft sighs like music to him.

You praised him, one hand gentle in his hair, pushing him further into you. Giyuu thought that he could die right now, with no regrets, just because he made you feel like this. You were so wet, so warm and sweet… Giyuu couldn't get enough. You cried out when his fingers, rough from sword handling, entered you, moving first slowly then faster until you were grinding against Giyuu's face, panting as you came closer to the edge. Giyuu looked up at you from between your legs, eyes focused on the ecstasy on your face. He curled his fingers inside of you, pressing against that spongy spot inside of you and your thighs locked around his head, keeping him still as you rode out your orgasm.

You hunch over him, pulling his head from between your legs, cradling his face in a gentle hold. Giyuu knows that he probably looks a mess from your arousal, face wet and red, but it was worth the sweet look in your eyes and hunger on your face. He'd let you devour him whole if only that was his last memory.

You push him down, sinking to your knees and straddling his hips. Your hands caress his chest, fingers curling and your claws leave red lines on his skin. Another mark Giyuu would be happy to carry on into his next life. He's out of words and breath when you sink onto him, taking him to the deepest reaches of your body and all he can do is hold onto your hips as you ride him hard and fast. Giyuu knows that you're just using him, that he should be happy that you gave him the honour of feeling your wet heat grip his dick, clench around him.

"Thank you, thank you…" The words tumble out of his mouth, unbidden but truthful. He cums when you laugh at him, when your clawed hand wraps around his throat, squeezing ever so lightly.

You continued riding him, drawing tears from his pretty eyes from overstimulation. You ride him until you've milked him dry and got your fill of ecstasy. A growl rips from somewhere deep in your chest as you cum, grinding down on him to get those little aftershocks of pleasure. Your hand moves from Giyuu's throat, fingers chasing sweat drops on his chest. You lie down on top of him, humming that same tune from before.

Giyuu doesn't particularly care that your teeth are close to his jugular, that you're splitting open his skin to lick up his blood. All he knows and wants is to stay with you, surrounded by your warmth.

"Poor little slayer." You murmur into Giyuu's ear, voice filled with pity and something else Giyuu cannot comprehend. "So many desires unspoken, so many wishes not coming through. Do not worry, I'll take care of you."

The slayer never noticed the miasma descending around you two, just closed his eyes as you sang him to sleep. He looked like a doll as you picked him up, body limp as you carried him up into the trees. You set him up among many other humans in your den but took special care to preserve him.

"My little mouse." You purred, caressing Giyuu's face, tracing his lips. "I'll be good to you, no one will ever find you or hurt you here."

#hefi writes #spicy writing #dom!reader #demon slayer smut #giyuu tomioka smut #giyuu tomioka x reader

181 notes · View notes

mxpseudonym · 4 years ago

Text

More, Even If It’s Too Much

Pairing: Arthur Shelby x OC or she/her pronouns Reader

Summary: Arthur falls for his innocent, young bookkeeper who doesn’t actually have an innocent bone in her body

Length: 1396 words (allegedly)

Warnings: Age difference, Manipulation, Unhealthy-ish ideals

Request: for the arthur smut idea - how about the reader is younger than him, maybe her 20s and she is somehow around the shelbys a lot and he falls madly in love with her but doesn't want to bother her cause she seems really innocent and sweet, but in reality she is daydreaming about how he would just have his way with her and she teases him a lot, maybe by sucking on lollipops or whatnot, until he just can't hold it back and somehow they get it on🥵

A/N: I felt rusty when I was writing this, but it was a joy. I hope you like it! I took a liberty and made it a tiny bit dark. If anyone wants to hear about my analysis on my own story, I may just have to share.

He said her name, but all she could hear was a snap.

Pulling Arthur into his office on a quiet afternoon and lifting the hem of her dress to reveal what his Christmas bonus bought her was the last straw to break under her many efforts. Her gaze lifted from where she ran her fingers over the lacy hem of her new garter belt and looked into the dark eyes of her boss.

Arthur looked frustrated and maybe even a bit angry. His fists clenched, and his jaw tightened like he was on the verge of barreling over the line he'd drawn. Her wide eyes narrowed, and her innocent smile shifted into a wicked smirk. This was perfect. He was perfect.

"Have you finally noticed me, Mr. Shelby?"

She was sure the paperweight that cracked against the floor was expensive, but the experience of finally having Arthur push her onto his messy desk was worth more than the whole of this shady company.

"Notice you? Fuckin' hell, lovey, you're all I can think about."

His lips were a bit chapped against her soft ones, always prepared for the possibility that Arthur would lose his good sense like she knew he could.

She'd been around the Shelby's since she started running numbers as a preteen. There wasn’t a day that she didn’t have a crush on the older man. He was all heart, a dangerously open book that she wanted on her bedside table very night. Now as a young lady with a knack for bookkeeping, she was the only thing Arthur insisted on taking to the London offices during the Shelby Co Limited expansion and she was glad.

It wasn’t until a couple of years before when she turned 20 that she realized how much more she wanted to know. What did he look like when he was content or overwhelmed with pleasure? Would he ever get mad at her? About what, she wondered. She wanted to know everything.

Tommy wasn't so sure about it at first. It wasn't a secret, after all. Arthur couldn't touch her without going red and went out of his way to make her life easier any way he could. At some point, even she had to tell him to stop making her so many cups of tea just how she liked it. The eldest Shelby had been ready to risk everything for her for ages. But it wasn't the pining that worried the perceptive middle Shelby.

It was the look she had when no one was watching. Her eyes, only ever set on Arthur, were insatiable. And anything or anyone who pulled Arthur's concentration away from her received a glare that could kill. But maybe what worried Tommy more was that Arthur was a fool.

He was too convinced she was a nice girl who fixed his hair with a tender touch and laughed brightly at his silly jokes. Even when she got Arthur to do whatever she said or steered other women in the opposite direction just to keep his attention, she was still young and assuming to Arthur, which only worked to her advantage.

Nice girls finished last as far as she was concerned. She may have been young and seemingly innocent, but she didn't desire the mad dog of a man without knowing him. With his inability to avoid a devilish addiction, Arthur Shelby only needed to be tempted to devour her. He only needed a little hand brushing, a compliment on his appearance paired with a giggle, a low-cut blouse. She knew it, and Tommy knew she knew it.

"Tommy says I put you on too high of a pedestal," Arthur mused one day when they stood in the back alley of the Eden Club for a smoke break.

Well, Arthur lit his cigarette and forgot to inhale while his eyes followed her swirling tongue around the lemon-flavored lolly. Deciding to quit smoking was an all too convenient addition to her seduction plan. She reached up and plucked what was left of his cigarette from his fingers and tossed it away. She raised her candy to his lips instead, and he was obedient in taking it, making her chuckle.

"It could be higher."

Arthur didn't waste any time, or rather, he didn't quite know how to go slow. It was all or nothing. It was hardly looking her in the eye or hungrily taking in her taste in the back office of the Eden Club.

His calloused hands still had a slight tremble to them even as they pulled down the soft sleeves of her dress, leaving it to pool around her waist, but one hand pressed against the desk beside her, caging her in, while the other trailed along her skin, leaving her gasping. She wasn't going anywhere. A gasp escaped her lips, and a shiver ran down her spine when he ghosted over her nipple. She jumped slightly when his lips ghosted over her ear.

"Are you afraid, lovey?" He rasped in a way she'd always wanted to hear directed at her.

"I'm afraid you'll stop," she answered, her own voice desperate. Arthur leaned back suddenly and looked down at her. Now he wondered just how blind he'd been. Was she always this forward with him?

"And I thought you were a sweet, pure lamb."

She placed her hand over his and guided it lower, beneath the bunched of fabric, and pushed aside cotton until her breathing was shallow and Arthur was dipping between her slick warmth. And yet, her eyes never left his. She licked her slightly parted lips while Arthur swallowed.

"How could I be when you leave me like this every day? I'm not nice, Arthur," she revealed, desperate as ever. "I'm greedy."

She kept his pace easily. It was fluid if you could call it anything other than ravenous. Clothes were forgotten on the floor next to the holsters and the guns. Their names flowed between moans and cries, getting cut short or sighed at an exquisite movement.

Pressed between Arthur and the wall, she was still trying to adjust to his size but refused to let him slow down. She'd been thinking about this for too long, and her own hands weren't enough anymore. Even Arthur teasing her a bit at the beginning, rubbing the head of his weeping cock over her entrance and around her sensitive bud, had been agonizing enough to make her cum before he even put it in. She was losing count of every peak she was experiencing, but all that mattered was that he moved with no resistance. Every sound and experienced movement he made sent heat straight to her core. Arthur was no saint, and he'd certainly been around the bend, but she just as hungry as he was. That was a first.

"More," she moaned as her eyes rolled. Arthur let out a haughty laugh that she didn't mind.

"You think you can take more?" He asked, but he tightened his grip on her thighs and thrust hard and deep into her in the same moment. She could only dig her nails into his shoulder and tug at his hair with a silent cry. "What are you greedy for?"

"You," she finally gasped loudly at the resulting deep thrusts.

"Me?"

"I want every part of you. Even if it's too much," she whined and grabbed Arthur's face in her hands. He was looking at her, watching her, in awe as her eyes welled up and she tightened around him. "And I want you to look at me only. Just always at me. Oh god!"

She shook and bucked against him, her eyes closing tight and her nose scrunching up. Still, Arthur kept her wish of never letting his eyes leave her contorted, euphoric face as she mumbled his name even as he followed her release with his own. She really was something else.

It was perplexing to see her transform back into the girl he thought she was. Even with her cheeks warm and a silly grin on her face from their salacious act, she still looked precious and not like the vixen dragging her nails down his back and biting his skin just moments ago. It made him want to apologize for being so rough. She'd have plenty of bruises of her own in the morning. As if she sensed what he thought while he helped her into her coat, she turned and pulled him down into a kiss.

"Arthur, thank you for taking me so seriously."

"Well, I've loved you for a while, haven't I?" He asked, turning again. She perked up with her usual smile.

"Good. Because I want you to want me more than anything else too."

He scoffed and shook his head. Something else entirely. He reached up and pinched her cheek.

"When you say something like that with such a pretty face, how can I say no, lovey?"

#Arthur Shelby #Arthur Shelby Imagine #Arthur Shelby fic #Arthur Shelby x reader #Arthur Shelby x OC #Arthur Shelby smut #Peaky Blinders smut

505 notes · View notes

wasabito · 4 years ago

Text

there are a million other things i should be doing,,, and yet here i am—anyway, i’m half asleep, so if this is barely coherent, that’s why.

words: idk because i typed it straight into tumblr

tags: dry humping, make out sess, super quickie, suggestive content, 18+ only

there were many things about bokuto you loved. his passion for volleyball was one thing, his charisma was another, there was also the way he always knew how to make you laugh until your cheeks grew tender. but despite all of these amazing things, something else had slowly become your favorite thing about your boyfriend — this seemingly innocent thing that had you squeezing your thighs everytime you caught a glimpse of him.

“hey, bumblebee, have you seen my retainer?” an exasperated voice called from somewhere afar.

“if it’s not on the nightstand, it’s probably in the bathroom, baby.” you paused in your typing at the sound of bokuto bursting into your shared bedroom.

he’d done well this past hour in giving you enough space to get some work done without any distractions. however, you knew it was only a matter of time before he’d come to divert your attention away from acid-base reactions and chemistry lab reports.

he stood at the foot of the bed with a pout on his lips. “damn, i really can’t find it.”

you said nothing as your eyes were suddenly drawn to bokuto’s current state of undress.

sure, it was a little toastier than normal, but you’d nearly forgotten how much he ran hot. it was no wonder he had pulled off his top at some point, favoring to remain shirtless with sweatpants hanging loose on his hips and a goofy, oblivious grin on his lips.

surely this wasn’t the same gray sweatpants you’d gotten him last week to replace his old pair? who would’ve thought such a simple getup could be so... tantalizing.

bokuto caught your blank stare and blinked down at you, wondering why you’d gone so silent all of a sudden. were you feeling okay? were you tired?

he let himself face-plant into the soft bedding, jostling the computer in your lap.

“maybe you should take a break...you’ll fry your brain like an egg if you don’t.”

you wanted to tell him you were doing just fine, that another hour wouldn’t kill you, but the sight of his muscled back made your throat run dry.

he had... gotten a lot beefier since graduation, filling out in a way that pointed only to his dedication as an athlete. the taut muscles of his arms, powerful thighs, and booty. a god among men, your boyfriend was and he didn’t even know it.

bokuto turned over on his back, laying at your side with both arms crossed behind his head. honestly, if you hadn’t known any better you would’ve sworn he was doing all of this flexing on purpose, flaunting his perfect body at you just to see how long you’d last before pouncing on him.

gulping passed the lump in your throat, you finally set your laptop aside and climbed on top of him.

“hmm, what’s up, angel?”

you answered your boyfriend with a kiss to his lips. “consider me distracted, bo.” you murmured against the seam of his mouth. “isn’t that what you wanted?”

regardless of whether this had been his intention all along, it was so easy to rile him up.

with hands braced against bokuto’s bare chest, you grind your clothed pussy against him as if testing the waters. you’d ridden him like this countless times, each time more exquisite than the last. your personal favorite was the time bokuto had let you fuck yourself against his thigh brace. you’d nearly cried with how good it felt.

tonight, bokuto was moaning into your mouth with every roll of your hips. his growing erection made itself known the more you steadily rocked against him.

deft fingers gripped your thighs as his hips canted upwards to meet your pace. “baby, pleease~” he whined. but bokuto’s choked whimpers only spurred you on even more while he arched his back off the mattress in desperation.

you trailed kisses along his jaw and down his neck, tongue grazing the shell of his ear as you went.

the tiny jolts of pleasure shooting straight to your core had your toes curling, your needy cunt left to clench around nothing at all.

you were trembling before you even knew it, orgasm rocketing through as you collapsed on top of your boyfriend. only then had you noticed the wet stain on his pants. he’d come as well.

you leaned forward, snatching his lips in yet another kiss as your fingers carded through the hair at his nape. “love you.” you whispered.

bokuto offered a wobbly little pout. “love you more.”

#bokuto x reader #bokuto koutarou x reader #bokuto koutarou #koutarou bokuto x reader #koutarou bokuto #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu #haikyuu!!#haikyuu smut #bokuto smut #🔞.fics

985 notes · View notes

mmvalentine · 3 years ago

Note

Can I please get a moonstone palace bathtub smut for feysand???

Pleaseeeeeee

Honey I'm sorry this took me soooo long, this was actually the last one on my list before I decided to cut off my prompt intake so I did always mean to write it I've just not been having as much motivation lately! But yes, let's do this, let's get SOAPY!

Moonshine

Rhys was a little drunk.

Feyre had been at the Summer Court with Amren all day, up to their necks in meetings. Rhys had been doing the same at the day court and Helion conducted his official court business... differently. And so it was that Rhys got home just after Feyre, rather worse for wear.

"Feyre!" he called, slurring a little.

"In here," she called back, in the middle of folding some clothes away. Rhys poked his head round the door.

"Oh," he said. "There you are."

"In... our room? Yes, where else would I be?"

Rhys sighed. "I couldn't remember which house I was supposed to be at. I went to the house by the river, but it's all covered up."

"Yes," Feyre agreed, her lips twitching. "Renovations, remember?"

"So then I went to the House of the Wind," Rhys continued. "But Cassian and Nesta were there and kicked me out, so I went to the townhouse, and then remembered that Nyx lives there now- did you know our son is an adult who lives alone?"

"I did know that."

"So then I went to the cabin but you weren't there either... and here you are in the moonshine palace." He shook his head, and corrected himself. "The moonstone palace. Feyre we have so many houses."

"We do," Feyre smiled. "And you have had so much to drink. Moonshine indeed."

"Yes, well, you know Helion's rules. You have to do a shot every time you raise a new point. Or win a point. Or concede a point. Next time, I'm going to see Tarquin and you can deal with Helion."

"Tarquin doesn't like you, and you know I can't get through the agenda with Helion's rules."

Rhys looked outraged for a second. "Why?" he demanded.

"Because I am half the size of Helion. Maybe less."

"No, why doesn't Tarquin like me? Everybody likes me."

"Darling I have a more pressing question."

"Yes, what is it?"

"What... is all over you?"

Rhys looked down at himself, and appeared to think about it for a second. "It's marmalade," he said eventually.

"It's what?"

"A delegate from the human realm brought it."

"Okay," Feyre said slowly. "But why is it all over you?"

"You know, I have no idea."

"And how did you get it on your wings?"

Rhys turned his head quickly. "My wings are out?"

Feyre laughed. "Okay, never mind. Let's just get you cleaned up and into bed."

Rhys' expression shifted then, and bewilderment became something much more wicked.

"You know," he said, "the marmalade is quite delicious. You should give it a try. You could clean me off with your tongue."

Feyre rolled her eyes, and pushed her mate toward the large bathtub. Around the bathroom, candles flickered to life of their own accord.

"Or I could just clean you off with a sponge like a regular fae."

"Oh so you are going to be doing the cleaning," Rhys said, his eyes lighting. And with that, his orange stained suit disappeared and he pulled her against his naked chest.

Feyre landed with her hands on his skin, and her breath caught at the sudden movement. She made to push him away, but when she looked up at his face Rhys was looking at her with an intensity she did not think he was capable of in his inebriated state.

"You're joining me, yes?" Rhys purred, and already his hands were pulling at the fastenings behind her back.

"Well I-"

"Of course you are," and then faster than she expected he had the dress falling around her feet, and his teeth on her left nipple.

"Woah, okay, down boy," she struggled out. "You have sticky stuff in your hair."

"Marmalade," Rhys reminded her.

"Right." She led Rhys to the tub, and they both climbed in. Feyre bundled her hair on top of her head while Rhys located the aforementioned sponge, and handed it to her. He waved his hand and the tub filled with bubbles, and beneath them Rhys pulled Feyre's legs to circle around his waist. She slid along the smooth bottom of the tub, and when she reached Rhys she found him suddenly hard between her legs.

Her eyes went wide, but she did not acknowledge it. Instead, plunged the sponge into the water and then rubbed it over Rhys' chest and neck where the sticky substance had gotten under his shirt. Rhys, his hands idle, scooped hot water up Feyre's back and shoulders, and let his fingertips follow the line of her spine.

"We haven't had a bath together in ages," he said softly, eyes on her ear where his thumb stroked, as his palm rested against the side of her throat.

"Well," Feyre said, trying to concentrate on cleaning him up, "it's not often you're in need of such thorough cleaning."

Rhys reached forward and pulled Feyre up onto his lap, his cock now pressing insistently against her.

"Maybe I should get dirty more often then," he murmured, and then Feyre was avoiding his gaze as she dunked the sponge again and used it to clean the stuff out of his hair. A sweet orange smell was drifting through the steam as she went.

"You know you don't have to go to such extreme measures for us to spend time together," Feyre said, and then swiped the soapy sponge all the way down one of Rhys' wings.

Rhys shuddered violently in shock and pleasure as Feyre collected more water and rubbed down his other wing.

"Ohhh darling," he groaned. "Do that again."

Feyre bit back a smile and moved the sponge in circles, peering over Rhys' shoulder and carefully wiping away all the marks on the leathery surface. Rhys' hands had left her back and were now gripping the edges of the tub. His forehead was leaning against her chest, and she made sure to get her sponge into the curves of his joints, and around the base of his wing's talon. She lifted a wing back to get the underside, and pretended to not notice the way Rhys' cock twitched beneath her as she wiped rough strokes down the inside edge.

Rhys groaned again, and put his teeth in her shoulder. Feyre was fairly satisfied that she had gotten the muck off him, and was now squeezing water over him to clear the suds off.

"Is that better?" she crooned.

"Mmm it's the most exquisite torture," Rhys replied, and started to move her hips with his hands so that she was sliding up and down in his lap while she swirled more hot water over his wings. His motion stuttered when she ran the sponge over a particularly sensitive spot, and then he had his arms tight around her and then he had his mouth on hers and was leaning forward to kiss her harder.

Feyre dropped the sponge and tangled her hands in his hair. She had always loved how he looked with his hair wet and slicked back. Rhys kissed her greedily, and she had to admit she was also quite fond of fooling around when Rhys was tipsy. There was just something a little looser, a little messy but sexy about him when he was handsy-drunk, and even though Feyre hadn't been drinking, the intoxication seemed to be contagious.

Feyre drank the taste of moonshine off Rhys' lips and got lost in the tingling sensation where his fingers gripped her. And then he lifted her hips and brought her right down on his cock under the water.

It should be so familiar by now. A hundred years together, and one might think this wouldn't surprise Feyre anymore. But every time, every single time the pleasure of Rhys inside her was almost too much to bear. Feyre cried out and grabbed a hold of his shoulders, hanging on tightly as he started to bounce her in his lap.

"Fuuuck Feyre, fuck," Rhys groaned, as his head fell back against the edge of the tub and his hips tilted up to get deeper inside her. His eyes closed but his hands clutched tighter, and then Feyre took a hold of the sides of the tub to get leverage as they quickened their pace. "Gods you could kill a male fucking like this."

Rhys sat up suddenly, water sloshing noisily as closed his mouth over one of her breasts. His hand came up to massage the other, and his free hand squeezed her backside. Feyre moaned as his teeth touched her nipple, and changed her motion so that she was grinding into his lap instead of moving up and down. Rhys' tongue flicked over her peaked nipple and it seemed to echo in her clit, over and over until she was clawing at his neck and pushing back her orgasm, trying to stretch the feeling out.

Rhys saw it coming, dragged her mouth back to his and then kissed her with her tongue sucked into his mouth as he got his hands back on her hips and slammed into her exactly how he wanted it and not letting her hold anything back. And then she was screaming as she climaxed, head tipped back and sweat and steam and bubbles plastering the stray strands to her face as she came apart in the bathtub. Rhys was not far behind, and Feyre reveled in the unguarded, unrestrained sounds that he made, too.

When they had stopped moving, they sat for minutes just curled together like that. Eventually, Rhys yawned and Feyre kissed his head before whispering "Let's go to bed."

"I'll just sleep here," Rhys mumbled.

"You can't sleep in the bathtub," Feyre argued.

"Sure I can," Rhys said. "I'm doing it right now."

Feyre rolled her eyes, and disentangled herself from Rhys' arms. He growled in protest, but she managed to climb out of the tub and wrap a towel around herself.

"Alright your turn, come on."

Rhys slid down in the bath.

"Come on you big baby." Feyre reached in and hauled her giant, heavy mate out of the water with some difficulty, and decided it would be easier to magic him dry.

Rhys practically fell into bed and was asleep within seconds- but not before he managed to grab a hold of Feyre, pull her tight into his body, and kiss the back of her neck while his arms wound round her middle.

"Good night my love," Feyre said quietly, and then used magic again to send their clothes to the laundry and snuff the candles out, since once Rhys was unconscious and wrapped around her like this, there was no getting up until morning.

****

MASTERLIST

TAGLIST: @ghostlyrose2 @highladysith @stardelia @feysand-loml @tillyrubes10 @ratabrasileira @live-the-fangirl-life @maybekindasortaace @annejulianneh111 @thebonecarver @rowaelinismyotp @loosingdreams @whythefuckdoiexist @inejsarrow @swankii-art-teacher @sjmships @courtofjurdan @teddytdr @positivewitch @thalia-2-rose @darling-archeron @rapunzel1523 @fairchildjace @philosophorumaurum02 @story-scribbler @allthecolorsneverseen @asteria-of-mars @fandomstalker27

#feysand #feysand fic #smut #mine #asks #prompt fill

212 notes · View notes