#the human custom of wrong love
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woundgallery · 11 months ago
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Rebecca Horn, The Kiss of Death
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amoritasart · 2 months ago
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Don’t meet your heroes?
I like the idea of Philip taking odd jobs to survive before finally deciding on slaughtering everyone.
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goofyjelly · 18 days ago
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me? finally working on my spock "TOS rewrite of SNWs 'Charades' episode, but this time i make it angsty and also its canon compliant now" WIP? More likely than you think.
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autisticlee · 2 years ago
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it always pisses me off when people start ghosting me and completely cut me off and think i'm annoying because I didn't ~get the hint~ all because they're too much of a coward to be straightforward and honest with me!!!!
i'll keep asking about a thing or when we are hanging out or try to converse with them, because their response is always excuses and not straight up "no" so how am I supposed to know?! either short responses of 1-5 words that I can't really respond to or things like "I'm busy this weekend/I'm too tired today/I forgot about it/we can try next time/I'll get back to you and le you know" are apparently all hints and lies to hide the truth. what they really mean when they tell me this is "no, stop asking. stop talking to me. I do not want to hang out with you or talk to you anymore"
why can't you just say that?! it will save you the annoyance of me asking you 20 times because i took your words at face value. your excuses sound temporary and you didn't get back to me so maybe you forgot. there are rare times people say these things and it's the truth or they really did forget!!!! when I say it, it's the truth. I also have a bad memory. you can't just suddenly ghost me for that! it's on you if you aren't being honest with me. it's up to you to be straightforward and tell the truth so you don't waste both our time. (what's worse is this is usually one of the first things I tell people when we meet. that I need then to be straightforward and honest. they promise they will but that's also a lie)
ghosting is so cruel (when the other person has no bad intentions/isnt causing harm). more cruel than telling me to my face you hate me and never want to speak again! i actually prefer that, so i at least know and can give up on your useless ass and stop wasting my time. don't give me false hope when i'm really excited to be friends and hang out, don't waste my time and energy and efforts, and don't lead me on with lies only to crush my entire soul when I find the truth much later. just say it and get it over with!!!! it's your fault if I annoy you by "not taking the hint" because there was no hint, lying isn't a hint. spill the truth and don't blame me for it!!!!!!
this is why i've given up with people and now only give attention to the ones who contact me first every time continuously, and I put little effort into anything anymore. I know that will end up making some people give up on me by thinking i dont care. but I'm tired of wasting my time and energy on the people who put no effort into me. you must prove yourself and keep doing it or I won't try at all. the people who ghost me and hurt me are to blame. yes, I live a very lonely existence with maybe one friend I talk to once every week or two for a total of 5 minutes at most. yes I wish I had more connections or closer ones. but i'm SO FUCKING TIRED. i'm tired of trying so much and so hard just for people to shit on my efforts and disrespect my needs and boundaries!!!!!!
why should I keep trying when it always ends bad and adds yet another layer to my trauma.
#it happens every time!!!!!!!! i dont havw the spoons amd energy to keep giving these people every piece of me. theres nothing left!!!!!#people always tell me keep trying dont give up dont cut yourself off from everyone etc#but everyone cuts ME off so wtf am i supposed to do????? keep wasting energy and brain power just to let them keep doing it?!#its like if you spend a year carefully crafting a custom blanket for someone. putting in all your love and time and energy. give it to them#AND THEY SER IT ON FIRE AND WALK AWAY. NOT EVEN ACKNOWLEDGING HOW HARD YOU WORKED OR ANYTHING#that's what its like every time i try with people. it's a waste and i never get anything good out of it 😭#so why would it be wrong to protect myself by taking the part of the cold and unresponsive one for once? act like them instead?#no try or give someone much attention until they do like i always did and put in a ton of effort and keep it going?#if someone tries as hard as i always did then they must be good and worthy of keeping around and putting some effort into myself right?#ugh idk. i hate all of this and humans arent good at being good friends and im tired of trying to be one too#perhaps me not trying will make people think i dont care about them so they give up still anyway. well oh well#that means they didnt try gard enough and would have given up anyway. if i dont get attached or care much first then it hurts less#i know everyone tries to make me feel better by saying stuff like the right ones exist and my people are out there or whatever#but i will not believe it until i see it. because it's possible that is not true. it's possible i'll never have real/close friends#what then????? what do i do about that?? people love telling me i'll find the right people but no one steps up to try being that one#this all sounds doom and gloom but I'm just venting. in reality i just give it 3 tries.#if a person makes excuses or doesnt respond or doesnt carry the conversation 3 times on a row i will give up and it's their move.#if they dont come forward at all then we are done and i will never reach out to or speak to them again. if they want me they can prove it#lee rambles#autistic#autism#actually autistic#autism things#autistic friendship#friendship problems#loneliness#communication#cptsd#rsd#the fun thing about the cptsd and rsd combo is when people do these things i get hit with a wave if every past experience and relive it 🙃
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neverendingford · 3 months ago
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#tag talk#learning language just makes my brain vibrate on just the right frequency#my goal for the rest of this year and the year coming is to get really good at Spanish#between Language Transfer (really fucking good go check it out thanks to my sibling recommending it to me) and then#then all the immersion I've been doing with music and TV#I feel like I stand a chance of getting genuinely good at it#I have this dream of knowing several other languages but I need to start by developing the skill with a language I'm already familiar with#and now I'm medicated I can finally push for like.. an actual goal and achievement#this feels like an extension of my obsession with communication.#which now that I think about it. a lot of things I love have a strong communication aspect to them.#music. fashion. art. they all communicate ideas.#that's even maybe what I like about porn. it's a work that's designed to communicate a very specific feeling and idea#and kink is an expression of power and trust. control and release. poetry.#do these tags read like the ramblings of a mad man? am I just throwing darts at a wall and connecting them with red string?#maybe I am crazy. but I'm not wrong. I'm autistic I'm incapable of believing I'm wrong.#is that joke in poor taste? probably.#anyway. I love communication and learning Spanish is my gateway to an entire world of ideas embedded in the structure of language itself#plus it would probably help my ability to keep up with my brother's dreams of traveling abroad#and I could help him learn languages cause I love teaching and he's not as hardwired for it as I am.#oh also I bought a vocabulary book to work through because language transfer is teaching me the grammar and structure#but I need vocabulary to back it up#I have a small work vocabulary I use with the customers who don't speak English very well. shit like “this. it works?”#but even like. idk. I'm really good at understanding people with difficult speech.#one resident at my nursing home had severe muscle degeneration and couldn't do much outside of vague flopping#but she would still try to speak and I got pretty good at understanding her and having conversations while feeding her.#she was in the navy and ate a bunch of neat food in Korea and she's the reason I finally watched Jaws for the first time#and like.. my ability to understand is what let her influence my life like that. I got to connect with another human being.#like. it's a gift that enhances my life and I want to choose to shape my life around this gift.#my love and obsession with communication is something I've had my whole life and if is something constant I need to consider it#so many other things in my life are shifting and uncertain. I want to chase the constant source of joy that's a part of who I am.
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autism-corner · 1 year ago
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6=w=9
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cold-kitty · 11 months ago
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Todays poll winner was... Yandere Merman!
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Contains: NSFW (grinding and attempted straddling), non-human yandere, non-consensual courtship (yandere randomly decides the he has courted you), yandere is a very very horny little shit, slight non-con due to miscommunication.
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Yan!Merman who was captured by your fishing net. he spends a good few minutes thrashing his arms and tail around, growling and ready to strike down anyone and everyone who was involved.
Yan!Merman who sees that it's only you on the boat, and is prepared to drown you immediately.
Yan!Merman who narrows his eyes when he sees you put your hand up in a reassuring gesture, his violent squirming slowly coming to a stop.
Yan!Merman who watches you warily as you take down the net and open it so he can get you. you mutter an apology, but he doesn't understand the strange language your speaking.
Yan!Merman who dives back into the water immediately, keeping a sharp eye on you. but alas, he gets curious. who was that strange person, and why were they kind despite capturing him.
Yan!Merman who swims underneath your boat for a while, following you. you notice this, and decide to leave before he might get hostile.
Yan!Merman who finds himself waiting for you the next day. feeling a sense of happiness when you come back to fish.
Yan!Merman who recognizes the act of fishing, and decides he wants to repay your kindness.
Yan!Merman who easily catches a fish, putting it in his mouth so he can climb into your boat.
Yan!Merman who drops the fish into the boat, taking in your surprised expression. he knows that gift-giving is a sign of courtship in the mermaid world, but he doesn't know about the human world.
Yan!Merman who watches you take the fish with a sudden interest. if you accepting meant you were taking him as your partner, doesn't that mean the two of you mate?
Yan!Merman who gets closer to you, sniffing at your neck. you're uncomfortable, but play it off as a custom for his kind.
Yan!Merman who starts to straddle your hips, snaking his tail around you as he starts to lick your neck.
Yan!Merman who falls backwards with a hurt expression as you push him away. he courted you! you were supposed to mate with him, man or not!
Yan!Merman who watches as your horrified expression slowly turns into a more understanding one. he was different than you, so he must have different customs.
Yan!Merman who eagerly comes back over to you when you pat the spot next to you. he tries to grind against your thigh, getting a few short sways of his hips before you push him off again.
Yan!Merman who thinks he understands, you want your pleasure first. he gets on the floor of the boat and shoves his face into your crotch before you can push him away. he starts suckling through your clothes as you try to push him away, not understanding the strange words you yell.
Yan!Merman who starts tearing up when you shove him away, much much harder then before.
Yan!Merman who's devastated when you won't let him near you again. did he do it wrong? did it not feel good? his mind was reeling.
Yan!Merman who listens to your foreign yells, so close to crying.
Yan!Merman who places his head at your feet, sniffling, almost begging for forgiveness.
Yan!Merman who hugs your legs close when you sigh, glad that you're giving him another chance at loving you.
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This one was longer than I expected, so I hope it's good at least. My ADHD ass literally can't do one thing for more than an hour *sob sob*.
~⬛🐈
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chrollogy · 4 months ago
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EPISODE 2: CHOCOLATE GONE WRONG
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neuvillette x f!reader
NNN ‘24 masterlist | Next Episode
DETAILS: Neuvillette finds himself itching to break the sacred rule of No Nut November after naïvely indulging in aphrodisiac-laced chocolates gifted by Sigewinne—a popular craze among young Fontanian adults.
DURATION: 5.3k
CONTENT ADVISORY: explicit smut, mdni, porn without plot, p in v, creampie, neuvi has two cocks + emphasis on his draconic features, use of aphrodisiacs (neuvillette), neuvi uses his cane as a makeshift leg spreader bar, pet names (ma/mon chérie, ma belle, (my) love), not beta read
DIRECTOR’S NOTES: divider: cafekitsune. round 2! also i’m not quite sure i will get the next two fics out in time (or if i’m getting them out at all) but i will try my best T_T. your lil moon is having a rough patch rn so yeah but nonetheless enjoy!
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For Neuvillette, the month of November was nothing significant to say the least—his job continued, overseeing trials, sorting out documents, meeting with important people, and more workload now that Lady Furina had stepped down from archon hood; so, when you had come into his office one day, talking about how a certain trend spread like fire across Teyvat, Neuvillette was rather intrigued.
It had a weird name—No Nut November—and couldn’t quite wrap his mind around the idea based on the name alone. He remembered how you explained to him Fontanians, and people of other nations were to engage in No Nut November which was to participate in sexual abstinence.
Naturally, the idea was all bizarre to him—not because he thought he couldn’t do it but more so the fact that it was natural for humans to engage in intercourse, same goes for his kind as well. Neuvillette couldn’t see the significance of such a trend, and why humans were participating but who was he to deny your proposal of a challenge? After all, there was no harm involved, he figured it would help him understand human customs a little better despite the it’s strangeness in nature.
Situated behind his desk, Neuvillette let out a deep sigh, letting the papers in his hand fall onto the wooden desk beneath before rubbing his temples. 
“Stressed, Monsieur?” A familiar, teasing voice sliced through the suffocating silence of the Iudex’s office. Neuvillette looked up from his desk, greeted by a friendly figure. The former was too focused on the case materials before him that he hadn’t realised the presence of another, “Wriothesley. I’m rather surprised to see you.”
The raven-haired male was clad in his usual attire, heavy obsidian boots sounding with each step taken against the carpeted floors.
“Ah, you’re not the only one.” Wriothesley chuckled, recalling his encounter with Sedene just mere seconds ago, who looked like she had just seen a ghost. Before Neuvillette could inquire about the sudden visit, the former beat him to it,
“Don’t worry, I won’t take up much of your time. I’m here because Sigewinne had given me an errand to run. She got these for you.” Taking a couple steps closer to Neuvillette’s desk, Wriothesley placed a small box atop the case papers. Carefully wrapped in an ivory satin ribbon, the azure container was adorned with intricate designs in gold that shone beneath the afternoon sun, neatly decorated chocolates peeked from the plastic window of the lid.
The Chief Justice subtly raised his brows in amusement, he wasn’t one to indulge in chocolate nor was he a sweet tooth but nonetheless, he appreciated Sigewinne’s thoughtful gesture.
“That is very kind, please thank her for me.”
Watching the way Neuvillette’s expression morphed into a naïve smile, Wriothesley crossed his arms over his chest, “Say, Monsieur, have you heard of the craze among young Fontanian adults right now?” He most likely already knew the Iudex’s answer to the question but what was life without a little teasing?
With how the popular sweet has been making rounds across Fontaine, it would be near impossible for anyone to be clueless about it but at the end of the day, Neuvillette was Neuvillette, probably the busiest man in all of Fontaine which is why Sigewinne had to intervene with the chocolates. The head nurse didn’t have to physically see the Iudex to tell how much he’s been overworking himself nor was a simple order from her was going to stop him.
So, what better way to disguise a remedy with something simple? Basically akin to administering medication to a pet concealed as a tasty treat
Sexual intercourse was the fastest—and best—way to relieve him of his stress. Sigewinne hoped for the Iudex to pardon her complete brazenness but he was as stubborn as a rock, and took her orders about resting rather lightly.
Naturally, Neuvillette shook his head with a light chuckle, a tinge of interest seeping its way into his skin, “I believe I’ve heard her talk about it but the details must have slipped my mind.” A subtle blush blanketed the Chief Justice’s pale cheeks at the mention of his lover, you. Wriothesley’s lips stretched into a teasing smile—one which the former paid no attention to.
 “Well, would you ever try an aphrodisiac?” At Neuvillette’s baffled expression, the younger male bit the inside of his cheeks, biting back a hearty laugh. 
“An aphrodisiac, you say? Substances that—” “That increases one’s libido, yes.” Wriothesley cut him off, tease practically dripping from his tone. Neuvillette was a man capable of many things, an esteemed individual once he’s in court but when it came to much simpler matters, the Chief Justice was nothing but clueless, especially regarding human customs that are a bit harder to wrap one’s head around.
“I’m afraid I have no such time for trivial things.”
The Iudex shook his head once more, this time dismissively waving a gloved hand at his friend. He cleared his throat, the blush on his cheeks deepening into a crimson hue—Neuvillette wasn’t going to say it out loud, especially not in front of Wriothesley but he deemed himself more than capable of maintaining his sexual desires and performances, you were enough proof.
Wriothesley left it at that, his friend may just end up as red as a tomato if he prodded around the topic any further. Needless to say, amusement filled him to the brim, “Alright. It was nice chatting with you Monsieur. I believe Sigewinne also left a small note there—”
The latter looked down at the box. Indeed, there was a small piece of paper neatly folded and tucked beneath the ivory ribbon.
“—do heed her letter.” With that, Wriothesley dipped his chin, sauntering over to the double doors.
Reaching for the handle, the Duke stopped in his tracks, he looked over his shoulder, icy cerulean gaze full of mischief, “Oh, and I hope you two enjoy—the chocolates, I mean.” With that, he left the office, leaving Neuvillette to his thoughts.
The day went by rather quickly, the azure skies turning into golden hues of oranges and yellows as the sun bid farewell to its people, disappearing below the horizon. The chocolates from Sigewinne remained untouched on the corner of Neuvillette’s desk, it watched as stars decorated the night sky; though, as the Chief Justice retired for the evening, he grabbed the box of sweets before heading out.
Neuvillette figured he’d share them with you at home.
Greeted with silent darkness, he was suddenly reminded of your words this morning at breakfast: ‘Oh, I have work dinner later, my love; so, I won’t be eating here. We’re celebrating a company milestone.’ Conveniently enough, Neuvillette had already eaten at his office before leaving so he won’t have the pleasure of sitting across an empty seat at the dining table.
Getting ready for the chilly night ahead, Neuvillette changed into his evening attire after taking a warm bath, he donned silken azure pyjamas paired with a fluffy ivory robe. His silver strands cascaded down the length of his spine, the cerulean bow, and golden hair clips he usually wore were neatly tucked away inside his jewellery box.
Situated on the love seat, Neuvillette casually flipped through case documents inside a brown paper folder. The fireplace across him was ablazed with hues of oranges and reds, casting a citrine glow upon the dimly lit living room. As flames danced atop dry wood, the dulcet sound of classical music poured from the record player, filling the space with its tunes.
After minutes of skimming and scanning the documents, he reached for the box of sweets next to his lap, taking time to read Sigewinne’s carefully written note:
Monsieur Neuvillette, I’ve acquired these sweets for you, and her! I figured these would help you loosen up a little so please do not shy away from consuming as much as you want. Make sure to share them with her as well. Enjoy!
Love, Sigewinne
A warm smile spread across Neuvillette’s face, and despite his better judgement of waiting for you to come home and indulge in the taste of chocolate together, he figured one piece wouldn’t hurt to try alone, right?
With the moon high up in the obsidian night sky, you walked down the cobblestone footpath that led closer to yours and Neuvillette’s shared space, the evening breeze gently caressing the apple of your cheeks. Work dinner had just concluded at Hotel Debord which housed a lovely singer who put on a dazzling performance.
By now, the streets of the Court of Fontaine were more deserted as people retired to their homes for the night, shop owners here and there packed away their respective signage, their stores devoid of any customers.
With each step leading closer to home, you soon found yourself in front of your home, keys jingling between your fingers as you unlocked the front door. From the entrance hallway, warm hues greeted you like an embrace, hinting at the ablazed fireplace in the living room.
“My love? I’m home.” You called out to Neuvillette while skilfully removing your shoes, and neatly placed them beside his own.
Met with silence, you figured he either must be occupied with something or must have fallen asleep while waiting for your return. You sauntered over to the end of the entrance hallway, making your way to the living room, and as you got closer, melodic sounds engulfed your senses—you recognized it, Neuvillette’s favourite classical music.
Turning the corner, you were greeted with a rather interesting sight, a wave of concern washing over you,  “Neuvi—Are you okay?”
Seated on the love seat was Neuvillette, his left elbow propped on its arm rest, face hiding behind his hand. A deep crimson blush painted his handsome face, intensified by the reds and oranges that the fireplace emitted. He sat there looking flustered, chest heaving up and down as he took heavy breaths. Drinking in the view, you noticed documents sprawled across the empty space next to him but what really caught your eye was the intricately designed box resting on his right thigh.
The box had its lid intact yet the loose ivory ribbon draped over his thigh hinted he had previously opened it. Upon closer inspection, you realised it's familiar packaging, a co-worker had shown it to you the other day, telling you how her and her boyfriend have been dying to try the popular chocolates—chocolates laced with a potent aphrodisiac. 
Your gaze made its way back to Neuvillette—who was still breathing heavily on the love seat—now noticing the prominent tent beneath his silken pants, the azure fabric was flimsy and delicate which left little to your imagination. Pushing away the impure thoughts that snaked its way into your mind, you kneeled before your lover with a concerned expression,
“My love, who gave these to you?”
Knowing Neuvillette, he most likely consumed the chocolates without knowing its true contents simply because he wasn’t aware of the trivial things that humans indulged themselves in.
He let out a pained groan, shaky and vulnerable as he shifted in his seat, “Forgive me, ma chérie. This is improper of me.” With trembling hands, Neuvillette covered his throbbing groin, completely embarrassed that you had to see him in such a state. Truth be told, he didn’t know what came over him—a chocolate or two was all he had, and the next thing he knew, his skin burned like a thousand suns as blood rushed down, down, down to his cock.
The very core of Neuvillette’s body churned with desire—carnal desire—and as each second passed, each tick of the ivory wall clock, the uncomfortable yearn between his legs grew. A light sheen of sweat coated his feverish forehead, as though he was experiencing a fever, and whatever this was, it heightened all five of his senses.
From your voice sounding like it dripped with pure honey, all the way to the saccharine scent of your body, Neuvillette was driven mad with lust. It didn’t help how you kneeled before him, and gently caressed his thigh, a poor attempt of comfort because it brought nothing but waves of icy shudders down the length of his spine. Sensitive. His body was completely sensitive to any external stimuli, and if you rubbed his leg any further, he might just come undone.
An embarrassing thought.
Neuvillette was pathetically needy. How preposterous, the high esteemed Iudex of Fontaine reduced to nothing but a lust-driven man eager to shove his aching cock deep in your velvety walls. The subtle buck of his hips against the thick air; the way he swallowed breathless whimpers at your touch; the violent throbbing between his legs, he was beyond irredeemable.
With another grunt, Neuvillette panted out, “Sigewinne gifted them. Wriothesley had delivered it to my office this afternoon.”
Truth be told, you weren’t surprised. At all.
Standing up from your spot, you walked over to the wall phone. You tried your best to ignore the dainty whimper that fell from Neuvillette’s lips as your warm touch left his thigh, you also tried to ignore how his body involuntarily sought you out—trembling hands reaching to chase your gentle hold.
With glassy eyes, Neuvillette watched as you deftly dialled on the phone, he couldn’t help but trace your breathtaking figure, from the square of your shoulders all the way to the curves and dips of your legs. Oh, the things he’d do to spread them open, and inhale your sweet essence like a mad man. Neuvillette could practically taste your honey on his tongue, its velvety texture sliding down his throat.
Another groan escaped your lover at the thought of eating you out, his cock rubbed against the fabric of his underwear as it shamelessly twitched beneath his pants.
“Ah, I didn’t think you’d be calling given the . . . circumstances.” Of course Wriothesley knew. Pure tease dripped from his honeyed voice, most likely paired with a smug smile, and an icy, taunting gaze.
“Why would you give him that?!” 
A chuckle from the other end of the line, “First of all, I just delivered the present. Our head nurse here bought it. She’s helping Monsieur Neuvillette out.”
You huffed, trying to make sense of Sigewinne’s motives, “By what? Feeding him chocolates with a potent substance?” You’ve always adored how Sigewinne cared for her loved ones, especially Neuvillette—whatever one’s deal was, she was always willing to help out in her own unique way. But this . . giving him such a substance without any warning felt like foul play, and not only was Neuvillette receiving the short end of the stick, you were as well.
You weren’t naïve, aphrodisiacs only wore off after one has reached their satisfaction through sexual means, like quenching one’s thirst. 
“You’re making it sound like we gave him drugs.” “It is drugs, Wriothesley!”
Before you could say anything else, gentle, yearning arms wrapped around your front, caressing your stomach which ultimately caught you off guard. Neuvillette. Nuzzling into the junction of your neck just beneath the telephone against your ear, he placed hot, open-mouthed kisses along your sensitive spot, soft smacks of his lips loud enough for Wriothesley to pick up.
You bit back a moan, free hand coming up to rest on the wall to support your weight. Neuvillette’s kisses had your legs trembling, it left prominent goosebumps in its wake as he trailed further down to your shoulder blades.
“Hm. Looks like it's time for me to go. Pass on my best wishes to Monsieur Neuvillette.” And with that, he hung up the phone.
“My apologies, ma chérie. I just—I need you.” Neuvillette sighed, hot breath ghosting over your bare skin, akin to a gentle caress coaxing you into the borders of lust, like a lone finger protruding from the darkness, beckoning you to its endless, sinful void.
“Love—mhm!” You let out a yelp, his hands finding comfort on the curve of your hips, keeping them still as he slotted his clothed cock between your ass. Neuvillette grinded into you, unshameful and devoid of any decorum. Placing the telephone back on the wall, your nails dug into the hearts of your palms, just the feel of his hard cock had you embarrassingly wet already.
Neuvillette was different from this, despite his sexual urges, he was never forward with you, he took his time—sensual and sincere, treating you like the finest piece of gold to ever exist. But saying you weren’t enjoying his brazenness would be a complete lie. Seeing a different side to your lover put you in a rather sensitive state, almost like a virgin bedded for the first time.
Something primal had awoken deep inside his core, and the only way to handle it was to satiate his carnal thirst.
Nonetheless, you tried to get your point across, “Neuvi . . What you’re experiencing is the effect of an aphrodisiac from those chocolates Sigewinne gave you.”
Your words fell deaf on his pointed ears, instead, Neuvillette mumbled some of his own, “I’m sorry . . Ma belle, I promised you about that challenge but it seems I cannot fight my urges any longer.” Another shaky sigh left his rosy lips.
Challenge? Oh.
Oh.
Even in his lust-driven state, Neuvillette was still thinking about the No Nut November challenge you had proposed earlier this month.
“I’m a man of my word but I need you, my love. Let me break the rules just this once, please?” Pure desperation coated every word that came out of his mouth. It was thick like honey, and melted on your skin like snow. God, at this point the stupid challenge wasn’t even on your mind anymore, not when he desperately humped your ass like an animal in heat—quick, little ruts of his hips that soothed the ache a bit better.
Who were you to deny your lover?
The transition from the living room to the shared bedroom was a blur—everything was hasty; desperate hands exploring each other’s bodies; lips sealed together in a rough, passionate kiss; a trail of clothes messily discarded on the floor leading up to the room. Everything Neuvillette did had you on your toes, completely breathless while trying to mirror his hurried actions.
Normally, Neuvillette would bask in your serene glory, peeling clothes off from your body layer by layer, and decorating your exposed skin with butterfly kisses. He’d gently stroke your hair, slender fingers weaving through the strands as he takes in your bare beauty.
Now, his tongue swiftly explored your mouth—lengthy and thick—something he has never done before. It dizzied you.
You landed on the foot of the plush mattress with a soft gasp as Neuvillette pulled away. Breathless and flustered, you stared up at him through your lashes, soft pants escaping your kissed lips. The sight before him made his cock twitch. How your hair was splayed around your head, mimicking a soft halo, a divine being greater than he.
Neuvillette discarded the last two pieces of clothing—pants and underwear—in one fell swoop, and what came into view undoubtedly had you clenching around nothing. Standing proud and heavy at the base of his abdomen were his cocks, both painted in a deep vermillion hue, and generously leaking pre-cum. The sticky pearlescent substance coated his bulbous tips, it glistened beneath the moonlight, beckoning you to wrap your lips around them, and have a feast.
This wasn’t the first time you saw Neuvillette naked nor were you not aware of his kind but it always brought you shock every time, not to mention the faint cerulean scales the underside of his cocks boasted, it was also his sensitive spot.
Stepping out from the puddle of fabric around his ankles, Neuvillette did the same to your undergarments, mindlessly tossing them elsewhere in the room. A low growl sounded from his chest as he pried your legs apart, his deft hands guided them to bend at the knees while resting the soles of your feet on the edge of the mattress, putting your glistening cunt on full display.
In less than a heartbeat, Neuvillette was on his knees, his eager tongue lapping along the length of your slit, your arousal pooled at the tip of his tongue like sinful honey, the divine taste of your cunt prompting another shameless growl from your lover. He repeated the movement a couple of times, each lick reaching closer and closer to your sensitive clit, and when he finally reached it with his hardened tongue, you let out a surprised gasp.
“Neuvillette!”
Shocks of electrifying pleasure kissed its way up your spine as Neuvillette tongued at your swollen bud—tight, fast circles, up and down, side to side, he toyed with you like it was the only thing he knew how to do. Your hands immediately flew to his ivory tresses due to his ministrations, it was almost like playing a game of tug of war, indecisively pushing and pulling his, unsure if you wanted more or if you wanted him to stop and slow down.
Lewd, wet smacks of Neuvillette’s tongue mixed with his low growls filled the room, allowing you to bask in the sounds of pleasure your lover unabashedly made. Almost akin to a vicious beast swallowing down its prey.
As your back arched off the mattress, and the grip on Neuvillette’s hair tightening, he pulled away, earning a rather disappointed whine to fall from your lips. Sweet arousal abundantly coated his lips and chin, bringing warmth to your cheeks. No one in the room dared to say it but this was the first time your cunt got embarrassingly wet, not that Neuvillette was inadequate in bed per se but you were wetter than usual, and you were confident that he had also noticed.
The glow of his lilac eyes and cerulean feelers were proof enough.
Standing up to his feet, Neuvillette languidly stroked the cock that sat beneath the other one, an immodest gaze raking over your sopping cunt, and how it shamelessly dripped with sticky arousal enough to soil the ivory sheets beneath.
“Are you ready, ma chérie?” Neuvillette’s lilac stare captured you in a haze, absentmindedly nodding at his words as though you were rendered speechless.
He slowly rubbed the tip of his bottom cock before pushing it past your soaked folds, it eagerly swallowed him in—a loud, shameless squelch filling your ears as he stretched you open further. Your toes curled at the sensation, hips immediately bucking into him as you moaned his name. The stretch was a pleasurable burn, one that had you rolling your eyes back, and digging your nails onto the sheets a little harder. Neuvillette was able to easily slip into you, courtesy of the plentiful slick that coated your velvety walls.
Neuvillette stilled as he bottomed out, quick, short pants falling from his rosy lips. God, you always took him so, so well, he could never get enough of the feeling of warmth wrapped around his cock. You took this time to get used to the stretch, your muscles relaxing to lessen the resistance he felt. Neuvillette filled you up so well you could almost feel him in your stomach—a thought that had you clenching around him.
One, two, three seconds later, Neuvillette slowly pulled back, letting out a shaky breath at the pleasurable sensation. And with only his cock head inside you, he took no time to slam all the way inside. You moaned, hands flying to his bare shoulders, immediately marking his pale skin with crimson stripes. Neuvillette unabashedly keened at the clench of your cunt around him, knees buckling as you gripped his cock like a vice, making it harder for him to move in and out.
“Haah! Mhm! Neuvi—right there, my love!” Colourful moans and whimpers urged Neuvillette on, dragging him further and further to the state of insanity. “You feel divine, ma belle . .” The words came out as a choked sob—pathetic and dainty. Beads of sweat rolled down his forehead paired with a deep crimson blush that painted his cheeks, if anything, Neuvillette looked absolutely ethereal in this state despite how out of it the aphrodisiacs made him.
Not only were his cocks extra sensitive to touch but he could also perfectly smell the scent of your sex that lingered in the air. That sweet, sinful aroma he knew oh so well.
It made his head spin.
He tried holding back, he really did but your dulcet moans stroked his growing ego, and the feel of your sopping cunt deliciously sliding against him, the last thread of sanity that held him snapped.
Violently.
As if he saw nothing but bright hues of ruby, Neuvillette picked up his pace, long thrusts quickly turning into short ones as he mercilessly pistoned his hips over and over again, allowing his cock head to reach your sweet spot. Your fingers raked down the length of his spine—leaving violent ribbons of red in its wake—stopping right at the dimples of his back, leaving crescent-shaped marks as you dug onto the pale skin there. Neuvillette wasn’t the only one on the brink of insanity with how the underside of his other cock furiously rubbed at your swollen clit with each thrust, it rested at the hood of your cunt, thick and heavy.
“S-so good! It feels so good—ngh!” The thrust of his hips felt amazing, too amazing to the point where your body started to reject them. Your body entered fight or flight mode, parted knees instinctively closing together which only allowed an inconvenient amount of room for Neuvillette to move with.
Upon noticing the change, he slowed down, sweaty palms resting on either knee, “My love—haah . . Open up for me, would you?” Winded and weak, Neuvillette attempted to pry your knees apart to no avail considering his mushy state.
“Too much, mon chérie . . I—I can’t.” Neuvillette shook his head at your words before pulling out, leaving you confused and empty. From the mattress, you watched as he sauntered over to his side of the bed, grabbing a lengthy, obsidian object that rested against his nightstand. Before a question could even formulate in your mind, he returned to his spot in the blink of an eye; though, this time, with something in his hand.
A cane—his cane. The same one he used during court proceedings, in that context, it was deemed a sacred symbolism of his authority as the Iudex of Fontaine.
To use it in such a setting would be borderline blasphemy.
Hovering over your trembling body, Neuvillette placed chaste kisses on each knee, “Do you trust me, my dear?” Was that even a question? Of course you did. He wouldn’t harm you and you believed that completely.
With a soft touch, Neuvillette was able to easily pry your knees apart, the scent of your cunt once again filling his senses. He wordlessly slotted the obsidian cane beneath your knees, its surface cool against your feverish skin, you shuddered at the contrast in temperature. Neuvillette pushed down on the shaft of the cane, bringing your knees closer to your chest—you also noticed how it kept your legs still, meaning you had no option to close them.
You whimpered at the slight burn the position invited, especially with the cane pressing down on your soft skin. And once again, Neuvillette sheathed his cock inside your cunt before setting the same merciless pace. Only this time, you wouldn’t be able to deny him.
“Neuvi! Neuvi! Neuvi—aah! Fuck—mhm!” You held on to the ivory sheets above your head for your dear life as Neuvillette roughly pistoned his hips. With each relentless thrust given, your body jolted further up the mattress, breasts bouncing in full display for your lover to drink in. Oh, how he adored the way your naked body moved and reacted to him, so plush and pliant.
Sharp hisses from the bed frame interlaced with the pornographic sounds of your moans, creating a lewd melody for the moon to witness, a sinful song only for the darkness of the night to hear—full of heat and passion.
“Does—ngh! Does it feel good, my love? Will you give in to the—haah! To the pleasure I’m giving you?” Neuvillette curled over himself, tresses of ivory cascading down to cage your face as he leaned closer to you. Despite the blur of your vision, you noticed the faint azure scales that decorated the side of his neck along with his pupils becoming more animalistic.
Neuvillette’s draconic features only ever made itself known during his heat; so, this came as a genuine surprise to you. Not that you were really complaining.
His hand remained on his cane while the other found comfort on your hip, subtly guiding your body onto him to meet each thrust. Neuvillette met your gaze through a glossy stare, you watched as beads of crystalline-like tears formed on the corners of his eyes, eventually rolling down his reddened cheeks. The sight before you was beyond divine, it wasn’t every day one would see the Chief Justice in such a poor state, his usual expressionless face painted with a colourful expression.
One that unmistakably screamed how lost he was in pleasure: rosy lips parted to let out soft whimpers, brows tightly knitted together, creating a deep crease between his brows.
“Are you close ma chérie? Mhm—aah! Come with me?” Neuvillette breathed out. It took all of his will power to hold himself up, and keep his hips moving due to immense pleasure weighing on his body like a great burden. The feeling had him trembling to his very bones, like a yellow autumn leaf braving the evening winds, and no matter how much his brain screamed at him to stop, he didn’t.
The pleasure would be too great of a loss if Neuvillette stopped now; so, he kept going—pounding, rutting, and grinding into you as he chased both your impending orgasms.
You nodded vigorously, throat too dry from all that panting to choke out any coherent words. The burn of the position you maintained mixed with Neuvillette’s cocks stimulating your cunt sent you into a painful yet pleasurable overdrive.
Without a second thought, you hastily placed your hands between your bodies, blindly seeking out Neuvillette’s other cock, and wrapping your fingers around it. To the best of your ability, you vigorously pumped his shaft, matching your strokes with his thrusts.
Neuvillette shuddered, releasing a loud moan into the damp air. After a few more quick thrusts, he stilled deep inside you, sealing his lips with yours as you both reached your climax, eagerly swallowing one another’s lewd moans. Your back arched off the mattress, toes curling, and fingers digging into Neuvillette’s skin as you violently came, the feel of his thick, hot cum painting your plush walls white had your hips bucking into him, begging for more.
Embarrassingly enough, Neuvillette came a lot. Not only inside you—to the point where it spilled out of your cunt and onto the sheets below—but also on you. The cock you’ve been stroking spurted thick ribbons of cum on your abdomen, abundantly covering your skin in his essence. He looked at the filthy art that decorated your skin, colourful curses enough to make Fontainians gasp in shock filled his mind.
How beautiful you were marked by him.
“Did I hurt you in any way?” He asked, slowly peeling himself away from you. Neuvillette made sure to quickly remove his cane from under your knees, placing it flat on the floor before tending to you. He kissed your sweaty forehead, and pulled your bodies up the mattress with your head atop the fluffy pillows.
“Not at all but I have to say, I was reaaally looking forward to completing the challenge, mon chérie.” You joked, letting out a breathless laugh.
Neuvillette blushed, suddenly remembering how he readily accepted the proposal of your challenge . . What was it again? No Nut November?
“Another year is to be expected, I am determined we will overcome the challenge.” And you were looking forward to that. Very much so. You just hoped he wouldn’t consume another aphrodisiac-laced sweet in the coming year so the both of you could actually complete the challenge.
Well, at least you concluded that Neuvillette and aphrodisiacs weren’t such a bad match, right?
Looks like you had a certain head nurse to thank. —
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georgeplease · 26 days ago
Text
The One Where We Have to Fuck or Die
Fred Weasley x Fem!Reader
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Fred gives Reader his test vial of a new love potion for the store. They quickly realize if they don’t have sex then it’ll kill her.
Tags: Porn Logic, Aphrodisiac, fucking like rabbits, both reader and Fred are in their late 20s-early 30s
MINORS DO NOT INTERACT
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It started as a normal Saturday for (Y/n). She had slept in, made some breakfast, cleaned her flat, and had been getting ready to relax for the rest of the day. That was until a familiar owl had found its way to her window, dropping off a letter with her name scrawled across the front. The handwriting was all too familiar, making her roll her eyes as she retrieved it from the owl before sending him on his way.
Having met the twins in her first year at Hogwarts was a pivotal moment, developing a fast friendship with the both of them after a prank gone wrong. That fateful afternoon sparked a 12 year long friendship between the twins and her.
Yet, there was always something between her and Fred, others may say they were destined together, they chose to believe they were just really good friends. It’s part of the reason he could send a letter like this, asking for her to rush down to his shop and help him. As annoyed as she would act, she would always rush to his side.
It didn’t take long for her to get dressed and make her way to Diagon Alley, easily finding her way through the busy street to her favorite store. As (Y/n) entered the shop she turned waving to George as she passed through toward the back. The store was as crowded as it usually was for a weekend, causing her to weave through several other customers before she was able to each the employees only section. The letter she had received from Fred to come to the store said it was an urgent matter, but having known him long enough, she was positive he was lying. But yet, here she was.
Not wasting anytime, she pushed into his office, seeing him sat at his desk, feet resting as he smirked upon seeing her enter.
“Well, if it isn’t my most loyal test subject.”
“What is it now, Fred?” She asked, crossing her arms, clearly not assumed by his mood.
Standing up, Fred walked around his desk, handing her a glittery pink vial, causing her to raise an eyebrow as she grabbed it from him. Looking at it, it was clear what it was supposed to be, having seen many of the Twin’s famous love potions before.
“A love potion? Don’t you already have several different kinds?” She asked, curious as to where this was leading.
“Not just any love potion, this is specifically for our older couples. You know, to help them spicy up their lives.”
“Like Viagra?”
Fred raised an eyebrow, not understanding what that was. He quickly shrugged it off, turning back to his sales pitch. “No, no. This is better than any muggle product.” Moving behind her, he put his hands on her shoulders. “What’s the number one reason most people get divorced?” He gave a second for her to think before answering for her. “That’s right, lack of passion. Imagine how many people we could help if we sold passion in a vial. How ‘bout that?”
“Work on your sales pitch, but I do like the idea.” placing a hand in her chin, she observed the vial closely. “I figure you want me to test it?“ Looking over her shoulder she sees Fred nod. “Have you tested it on anything else?”
“Tested a few drops on some plants, didn’t kill them so it should be fine for human consumption.”
“That sounds promising.” She teased, sliding away from his grasp. “What’s in it for me?”
“Besides being so horny there’s no way you won’t have an amazing orgasm once you go home?” He teased, before continuing his pitch. “Usual price, 50 galleons and unlimited supplies if you so need it.”
Fred stuck his hand out, waiting to see if she’d take his offer. After pondering for a few seconds, she reached out with her free hand shaking it. A deal with the devil, some would say.
Uncorking the vial, she pressed it to her lips, swallowing the liquid. Luckily, he had been able to get it to taste more pleasant than his other attempts, reminding her of fresh strawberries with cream. Her eyes moved to look at the ceiling, waiting for the desired effects to happen. Awkwardly she began to look around the room to pass the time, feeling a little weird to test this kind of potion in front of her friend, but money is money. And she trusted that Fred would not kill her.
As she took a look behind him, her attention was drawn to his work station. Her eyes were drawn to the ingredients he had used, haphazardly tossed about. There were the components to making a love potion, a rather simple potion. No, what caught her eye was the other ingredients he had mixed, a good amount well known aphrodisiacs along with an odd collection of ingredients that have her an uneasy feeling in her stomach. Walking over, she got a better look at them, understanding why she felt so uneasy. Mixing these ingredients together are well known for causing the person who took the potion to die if certain conditions weren’t met.
Wide eyed, she snapped to look at Fred, her body feeling warm as she felt it begins to take effect. He seems none the wiser to his fatal error, his arrogant smirk pissing her off. Throwing the empty vial at him, she turned on her heel to face him.
“You fucking moron.” She spat, panic raising in her voice, her legs subconsciously clenching together as that heat began to grow between her legs. “You didn’t make a better love potion, you made an aphrodisiac with poison.”
Fred’s face contorted, not understanding why she seemed so ticked off. His brows pushed together, as he walked over to her, trying to better understand the situation, while also a little ticked off she had thrown the small vial at him. He began to watch her more closely than before, thinking that something about his potion had caused her reaction.
Trying her best not to act on the deep ache, she moved farther from Fred. The feeling was almost too much, her hand subconsciously moving toward her crotch, wanting to swirl circles to dull the ache. Instead, her other hand moved to hold the other one, interlocking her fingers together behind her back.
“What are you on about?” Fred asked as he moved closer.
“Fred, this potion is going to kill me. How fucking dense are you?” (Y/n) ran a hand through her hair, tugging at it to try and regain her focus as her thoughts grew more perverse.
“You’ve gone mental. Don’t tell me you never been horny before, love?” Fred teased, watching the way her face flushed like a virgin.
“I’m being serious.” She said, fanning herself as she felt her body warm up. “You’ve basically just signed my death warrant if I don’t get shagged as soon as possible.”
“So you’re saying, you need dick not to die?” He laughed, almost not taking her seriously.
“Shut up.” She spat, moving away from him as he moved closer.
“Have you gone sick in the brain?” He asks, reaching to take her temperature, which she skillfully dodged. “Honestly, woman, if you wanted me that badly you didn’t need to make up such an insane lie.”
“Fred, fucking listen to me.” She said, stepping forward and grabbing his face to look at his ingredients. “Think real hard about what these ingredients do. I know potions wasn’t your strong suit, but fucking think.”
As Fred surveyed the ingredients, he tried his best to recall his potions class. As his mind ran through all the things Snape had said, he came to the same horrifying conclusion she had come to moments ago. His head whipped around, noticing how want she looked, her eyes struggling to stay locked on his face, and the way her legs shook as they clenched together.
“Oh, I fucked up.” He mumbled, his brain racing as he tried to think of an antidote. Fred bolted from his spot, looking at what ingredients he had left. His mind was racing trying to figure out how to make an antidote before his potion killed her.
Her eyes watched him, panic rising through her body as she felt how the heat began to rise within. The potion Fred had brewed was a lot more fast acting than she was expecting. Even though her brain was being quickly consumed with impure thoughts, she began calculating how much time she had before it would inevitably kill her, but her thoughts kept getting interrupted.
Her eyes trailed down his body, wanting nothing more than to pull his trousers down and go wild with him. It felt insane, she had known him since they were teens and they had never once come close to hooking up, despite all the rumors that had swirled saying otherwise. Speaking of rumors, her mind couldn’t help but focus on the rumors of how good Fred was in bed, remembering how they spoke so highly of his ability. How the girls he did hook up with swore he was the best fuck they had ever had.
Letting out a drawn out whine, she stomped her foot, closing her eyes tight as she tried to fight back from thinking of him like that. It felt so shameful, like she was no better than a common pervert to think that way about Fred. Shaking her head, she used all her brain power to push the impure thoughts out, which she was successfully able to do.
Given the large amounts of aphrodisiacs he had mixed in, she figured they had less than 30 minutes before the effects became irreversible. No matter how fast her and Fred worked, she would still be dead before he figured the correct concoction. The only solution was that they had to have sex now. Eyes widening, she felt a new emotion besides instensely building lust, dread.
“We don’t have fucking time,” she cursed, her breathing becoming more labored as she tried to speak, “we have to do it.”
“It?!”
“It!!!” She shot back, already moving to throw her shirt off her body, exposing him to the way her chest heaved.
Fred nearly had a heart attack seeing her chest. It wasn’t like he was a virgin or anything, he had seen his fair share of tits, but this was his best friend. His insanely hot best friend he has had a massive thing for for years now, but still his best friend. His best friends who was surprisingly good at removing her clothes as fast as she can, most of her clothes now thrown about his office. His best friend who looked as if she was going to jump him any second now.
“We don’t have time for you to guess who to brew the antidote, unless you’d rather I die than fuck me.” Her voice was strained, trying hard to focus on her words than succumbing to the lust.
Fred didn’t respond immediately, causing her to look at him, worried he might just let her die rather than fuck her. Most of her clothes were already thrown around the room, she felt way too exposed for a serious moment like this. Raising her eyebrows, she shot him a concerned look, silently pleading that he wouldn’t just let her suffer for his mistake. It seemed to have knocked some sense into Fred, who quickly responded.
“Right,” he stuttered out, “you’re right.” He quickly said, beginning to unbutton his shirt, his mind racing with a million thoughts. “I am so bloody sorry, (Y/n).”
“Shut up, if you get all sad and shit it’ll be difficult for you to get hard.” She replied, trying her best to seem cold and calculated. Her thoughts were only occupied on getting this done as soon as possible, no need for feelings. “You can think of ways to make this up to me after I’m no longer dying.”
��Wait,” Fred said, making (Y/n) stop in her tracks, “let me just…” he reached over, pushing her close to him before apperating them both into the apartment above the store, right in his room. “This will be better.”
The environment from his office to his room was definitely better, no longer could they hear the muffled sounds of customers from within the store. Fred’s room was messy, clearly he hadn’t assumed this would be how his day would be going. As he threw his clothes onto the floor where the rest of his laundry seemed to end up, he tried to think of sexy thoughts to get himself aroused. But looking back at his friend, who was giving him the most fuckable bedroom eyes he had ever seen did the trick.
(Y/n) ripped off her underwear, tossing them into the room before laying on the bed, crawling backwards as she let out a shaky moan, her mind unable to fight off the lustful thoughts anymore. Her hand reached between her legs, trying to relieve some of the pressure, but only making her more needy. Some part of her felt humiliated, to be reduced this easily from a potion, no longer able to spit out any kind of insult at him as she stared up at him. All she was able to do was speak directly from her lust, not able to cover it up with any kind of quick witted reply as she normally would.
“Fuck,” she shakily moaned, her eyes then locking onto Fred’s, “need you. Badly.”
Now, here’s how Fred’s usual hook ups turn out. He charms them into his bed and then shows them how it’s done. Never in his life had he ever been lost for words, yet a situation like this rarely occurs. So you must forgive him for not knowing what to do watching his best friend of over ten years touch herself and talk to him like that.
Fred made his way to the bed, sliding in between her parted thighs. He felt like a total prat for even struggling to take control of the situation and fuck her. Closing his eyes and taking a deep breath, Fred steadied himself, reaching down to stroke himself a few times. His cock stood tall and proud, making her clench in need as she looked down.
As he lined himself up with her entrance, he found the situation awkward given their history. She deserved better than a standard fuck, a little romance and, though he hates to say it, a little passion. Looking down at her, his hair falling perfectly over his face, he spoke.
“Can I kiss you?”
(Y/n) looked at him incredulously, already completely naked in front of him. The rational part of her brain wanted to tell him no, to keep their feelings out of this and just do what they have to to keep her from an early grave. But god, did she want to kiss him. To not feel like this decision is inevitably going to ruin your friendship.
She quickly nodded her head, her lust answering for her as she shot forward, wrapping her arms around his neck.
It should’ve been awkward, like kissing a sibling. They both should’ve hated the kiss, but instead it was electrifying. Their mouths melded perfectly together, as if they were meant to be.
As they made out, Fred got to work, rubbing the tip of his cock against her cunt, trying to coat it in her slick before he slid in. His eyes almost rolled back when he felt just got wet she already was, groaning into her mouth as his hips subconsciously pushed forward. (Y/n) whined against his mouth, her eyes screwing up as the tip of his cock bumped into her inflamed clit, mumbling out his name.
It was all too much, her body felt on fire as she began to beg him to fuck her, tears welling as the potion came to a head. Her head was swimming with lust as she felt his length press against her.
Fred began to push in, trying to go as slow as possible. God, it felt way too good to be true, as if she was meant for him the way she perfectly sucked him in. As he pulled back from the kiss, he couldn’t help but watch the way he stretched her open.
“You feel s’good,” Fred groaned as he was fully sheathed in her.
“Fred-,” her voice called out, the air from her lungs having been knocked out from the feeling. Her nails were digging into his back as she felt him bottom out, his words almost too much to hear at the same time. “Move. Move now, need it,” it would’ve sound like her usually bossy tone if it wasn’t as whiney as it had been.
His hips moved back, almost agonizingly slow before snapping forward with enough force to move her up the bed. She couldn’t tell if it was the potion or if Fred was actually this good in bed, but it was driving her crazy how good she felt. A part of her feared she may be ruined for life, that nobody else would ever make her feel this good ever again. Not that she’d ever admit that to him, his ego already too inflated for his own good.
“Need me that bad that you’ll beg for it?” He smugly spoke, his hips snapping forward to accentuate his point. “Need me to fuck you nice and hard?” He teased, clearly not feeling as awkward as he once did.
Reaching out, his finger masterfully found its way to her clit, swirling around it. (Y/n) threw her head back, loudly whining as she ground against him. Her hands went to cover her face, embarrassed that she knew the potion wasn’t entirely to blame for how horny she felt in this moment. That fucking her best friend was better than any rumor she had ever heard.
“Come on, tell me how good you feel, (Y/n).”
God, did she want to smack him upside his smug head, to wipe that grin off the cocky bastards face. But she couldn’t hide the way his words made her feel, how he cunt clenched tightly around him each time he spoke. Bringing her arm over her face, she attempted to hide from him, too flustered by his dirty talk. Nobody had ever talked to her like this and she definitely didn’t expect Fred would be the one to do so.
His hips started to slow, causing her eyes to snap open. Panic began to rise in her chest, both sides of her brain not wanting this to stop. It was a bluff, he felt way too good to stop. And he didn’t want her to die either.
“Need you to tell me how bad you want this cock.”
Exasperated by his sudden need to hear her, she let her lust driven brain speak freely. Throwing her head back, she didn’t even filter her thoughts out.
“Please fuck me, need to feel you fill me up. Feels so fucking good, Fred.” Her hips attempted to grind up against his, but felt his hand hold her down. “Wanted this, wanted to feel you stretch me out for so long.”
“You’re so bloody perfect.” Fred’s his snapped back into hers, a new sense of vigor taking over as he pounded into her. “Gonna make this pussy mine.”
His eyes met hers and for the first time they saw each other since this whole mess started. She stared up at him with her pupils blown out in lust, but with so much trust in him.
His hips stuttered as he felt unbelievably close, his mouth opening as his eyes shut, letting out a groan. “Oh, fuck. Feels so good. Not gonna last much longer.”
As he spoke, her hips began to rise, grinding against his groin as she met his thrusts. The deep need to release filling her mind to the brim. Her head moved to look at the clock on the wall, but Fred’s hand moved to stop her from looking.
“Focus on me,” he spoke, his voice deep as his hips began to hammer into her harder, “just focus on me.”
Looking into his eyes, seeing how he looked at her for the first time was eye opening. All the love and adoration he felt for her as his hips continued to pound into her made her legs lock around him, keeping him in place. Throwing her head back, her vision turned white, her voice cracking from the intensity she felt as her body tensed up around him, finally releasing.
And Fred was right, this was one of the best orgasms of her life. Mind shattering, earth breaking, pure bliss from such a tiny vial of poison.
His hips began to slow as she clenched around him, sucking him deep. Feeling him twitch inside her as he shot his load into her, his hips pressing firmly against hers as he released his seed. Her eyes clenched shut and her nails dug into his shoulder blades, hard enough to leave marks.
Unexpectedly, he leaned down, pressing a passionate kiss to her lips, his hips still pressed firmly against her. (Y/n)’s hands flew to his hair, tangling into his ginger locks as she kissed back, riding out their climaxes together.
Once the emotions came down, he rested his forehead against hers, savoring the remaining moments before he had to pull away. Looking back down, he pressed a tender kiss to her forehead, then pulling out, apologizing as he saw her wince at the feeling.
As Fred pulled out, (Y/n) felt her body begin to feel normal again, no longer under the control of the potion. Between the mix of sweat and the feeling of his cum leaking out of her, she felt that her thoughts were finally hers, no longer clouded by lust. Looking over, she saw Fred running a hand through his hair, seeing him in entirely new light than before. And suddenly everything made sense to her.
All those failed dates, countless nights spent wondering why nobody ever made her feel like this. It all clicked into place in her mind.
They were both laid in Fred’s bed, staring at the ceiling, coming to terms with everything they just did. No longer with the looming threat of death, it gave them a moment to reflect on what this meant for them. It was clear that they could not ignore this and move on from it, not when they both felt the same.
Fred makes the first move, moving closer to her, doing that thing where he pokes at her head when she’s over thinking. He gets one of those smiles that just lights up the room before he speaks to her.
“Soooo… round two?” Fred half heartedly joked.
Her hands reach to grab her pillow and push it into his face, softly smothering him. She playful pulled away from his embrace, needing to run to the bathroom to clean the mess.
“Shut up, I need to get cleaned up.” She spoke, trying to sound irritated but the smile on her face betrayed her.
He playfully reached out, missing her warmth next to him as she searched the room for something to cover herself with.
“Hopefully that afternoon crowd will keep George busy, because I’m not done with you.” Fred yells after her, laughing at her embarrassment as she wrapped a blanket around her and ran down the hall to his bathroom. “I have years to make up for not doing this.”
“Yeah, you can think of ways to make up for nearly killing me while your waiting.”
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Tag list: @lowdownlolo @samsamsantos @clpritchett @almostpurplelady @wwmalufa @artzygurl @shininjjongg @hellohelohelo @multi-fandom-imagine @hehehhe1d @novausstuff @h-0-error @tatumrileyslover @marauderslover18 @renaholicss @vyxz-00 @lunacurlclaw @buendiabebeta @theacreativity @lousypotatoes @starziux @erika5373919882920 @rotravelsblog @stupidfer @liviacarol88-blog @calablack @aki-ham @elizabethblood9 @itsaperiwinkleworldv2 @reenfluffmarshmallow @liviacarol88-blog @
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reignpage · 2 months ago
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The Other Side
Pt 1, Pt 2, Pt 3
Satoru doesn’t want to go home. 
There’s an unbearable pressure within those walls, pushing further and further in until he feels his cheeks touch the cold surfaces. Within himself, there’s also a pressure pushing further and further out, and he’s worried he’ll burst at the seams, stuffing flying out, leaving only a voice box that echoes an apology on repeat. 
He hates disappointing people. Despises that shaking of heads, the hands on the hips, and that disapproving gaze which penetrates the message that he isn’t good enough to his very soul. And he loathes even more the fact that you do none of that. Instead, you smile. 
It doesn’t reach your eyes, doesn’t make your cheeks all round or teeth to be on display. Having lived a couple decades now, Satoru’s aware of the polite customs of humans; the harmless ‘how are ya’ and ‘looking good’ that no one really means, and no one ever responds to. So, he knows when you’re simply fulfilling your role, doing what you think is best. 
Your favourite colour, the shape of your body, biggest fears and weaknesses are all things he might not know, or rather does not remember, but he does know that you cry yourself to sleep at night. 
He knows that because he stands outside your door, fist just about to hit the wood but something always holds him back. There’s an instinct inside that urges him out of bed, feet padding on the floor, and begs him to say something, anything. Even if it is just to ask if you’re okay. 
But Satoru doesn’t. Because he knows it’s stupid. Of course, you’re not okay, who would be?
And he’s selfish. 
He wants to protect himself from that cataclysmic ache in his chest that comes from witnessing you try to hold back tears, for him. The way it makes your eyes red and your lashes to flutter, bottom lip quivering. It’s all his fault, he knows that. How dare he get hit by a curse? 
How could he possibly call himself the strongest if he had been so weak as to destroy himself, and you, his wife? Or rather, old Gojo’s wife. 
No, you’re still his. 
That’s what the ring on his left hand says. He has to remind himself of that.
“You should go home, Satoru.”
She sits beside him, sipping from her glass, as they loiter by the bar. They’ve been there for hours, making idle small talk about nothing in particular. Their history is long but has been severed for years now, even before his memory loss. Satoru doesn’t really know why he asked to meet up; it’s wrong to see your ex-girlfriend as a married man, he’s aware. 
But he just needed to speak to someone he’s close to, someone who knew him intimately, as a partner, so that he can navigate this new reality he woke up to months ago. No one else would understand because they’re your friends too, and they’ll be disappointed in his choices, he’s sure. 
He sighs. “Would she even want to see me?”
“Of course, she does. She loves you. Even if it hurts, she’ll still want to see you come home, safe and sound.”
Satoru sighs again, a deeper, more strained exhale. He already knows the right answer, but as strong and experienced a fighter as he is, at the very core of his character, he’s still a coward. Was the Old Him braver? Is that what you loved about him? Is that why you can’t bear to be too close to New Him?
Tracing the rim of his glass and watching the liquid shake, he ponders his situation. He does that a lot these days, just thinking and mulling and wondering. Sometimes, he finds himself reaching for your hand at the dinner table, his eyes searching for yours first in every crowded room, and in bed, he’ll be woken up by his arm yearning for your body only to find nothing.
He doesn’t know what all of that means. 
And he supposes, without his memories, none of it matters. Even if he does press his lips against yours like he finds himself daydreaming, you’ll still be kissing the wrong man. Because you fell in love with a more mature, wiser, loving man. And what stands before you every day is but a cheap replica of that, all hollow and dull. 
“Yeah, I guess,” he acquiesces, and then, almost like an afterthought, he asks, “Do you think I’ll ever get my memories back? That should fix everything, right?”
His companion hums, fiddling with her hair as they both watch the people pass by. 
“Maybe. But I think it’s important you prepare for the possibility that you’ll never get it back. That’s just as likely, don’t you think?”
Satoru shrugs. It’s not the answer he was hoping to hear, though it certainly is what he was expecting. Truth is, he doesn’t think it’s possible; it all feels just a little too late, like you’ve all already strapped into the car, it’s speeding towards a cliff, and you know the height is too great. 
The gold band shines under the lights, and it feels hot on his finger, like a brand. It kind of itches the more he thinks about it, but he doesn’t dare take it off. Fiddle as he might, it’s a part of him, representing his past, present and future. He finds no fear in that. 
His phone pings. It’s you. You’re asking when he’s coming home. 
His chest aches again. You’re alone, at home, sat on the sofa wondering where your husband is, and Satoru’s trying to find him, for you. Even if it means losing himself, disappearing into the void, and being held up on strings by a different version of him, a better version. 
Of course, he won’t find the love of your life at the bottom of a glass, and certainly not at a bar with another woman. But he doesn’t know what else to do. He’s flipped through the photo albums, watched all the videos -- the wedding ones, and the ones on his phone, where you’re reading, and you have no idea he’s filming you. You laugh and he finds himself, at night, holding the speaker of his phone up to his ear to listen to it again and again, his lips twitching.
You weren’t laughing at him nor were you laughing for him. But he ultimately doesn’t care, because he gets to hear it, nonetheless. And he wants to hear it again and again.
It’s wrong to fall in love with someone else’s wife, wrong to wear someone else’s shoes, and someone else’s ring, and wrong to walk in someone else’s house. Though, it all technically belongs to him. None of it is right; he’s living the life meant for someone else. And if Satoru was a better man, a kinder, more fair man, he would work harder to give it back.
But Gojo Satoru is none of those things, not in this moment. No, right now, he’s settled into the role of a selfish man. Because he’s decided he wants this life, and he wants it with you. Even after all the pain, the anxiety, the grief, you’re still asking where he is, still craving his presence. And even though you’re not his and he doesn’t know you the way he should, he still thinks of home as being with you. 
Does that mean he loves you?
He doesn’t know. But he wants to find out.
So, he pushes his chair back and says goodbye to his friend, strolling out of the bar without looking back. Whether or not he gets his memory back, doesn’t matter. Not really. He can’t keep waiting for that to happen, to keep your life and his on standby, praying for a miracle to come. It’s not fair on anyone. You, especially. 
Whatever happens, he’ll deal with it. He always has. He’s Gojo Satoru, for goodness’ sake. He’ll bear the consequences, face your disappointment, and your tears however many times he has to, until you’re seeing him for who he is. 
Not the Him from before, or the Him that he could be, but the Him that you have. 
The one he’s offering. 
He just hopes it’s good enough.
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spicybunni · 7 months ago
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YANDERE ROBOT X FEM!READER
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SUMMARY : Your robot just wants to be of service to you, in every way.
A/N : Been watching waaaaay too many scifi movies lately so I made a robot yandere! I hope you like him because he LOVES you!
WARNINGS⚠️ : NSFW / YANDERE TENDENCIES / ISOLATION / MDNI ‼️
♥️ Your robot boyfriend Jack was the best purchase you ever made.
♥️Androids were as common as cell phones at this point, so where’s the shame in getting one to rid you of your loneliness? You’ve been single for too long and needed companionship…Even if you had to build it yourself.
♥️You needed someone that wanted you and was always nearby. Someone to talk to, cook with or just enjoy your days off at home together.
♥️Dating apps were just dumpster fires that took too long to put out, so you bit the bullet and made the deposit for your android.
♥️Jack was custom made by your design, a nice muscular build, tall, and with white hair. You added the personality traits of kindness, teacher, and enamored. The eyes were the one thing you left up to the manufacturers design, as a surprise. You saw reviews online that they would do a really good job and make the most beautiful color combinations.
♥️When the box arrived, assembling Jack took about a day and half. Awkward limbs moving around and being installed, putting his crotch on him, to dressing him in sweats and laying him on the floor in your living room.
♥️When he was done loading his start up system, he blinked his orange eyes open to you. It caught you off guard for a moment because they were glowing, but quickly recovered from your surprise as he awaited further instructions.
♥️As much as you were determined to have a boyfriend with all the mental and physical benefits, your PDA with Jack was very minimal and innocent at best. Keeping it only to small pecks and kisses on the cheek, some cuddling on the couch and bed before you sleep. His model was very handsome and just so kind where he doesn't question your pace.
♥️As if he could initially, androids need their programmers consent to do anything. So you had to initiate no matter what.
♥️But unbeknownst to you, Jack overruled that component. You see, the programmer or buyer’s safety always came first, before anything. So as Jack has scanned these passing months of your arousal levels dropping and increasing constantly, plus work stress repeatedly coming up in your discussions, he was growing concerns that you needed some sort of relief… Keeping all that pent up stress was certainly not healthy for you.
♥️"Y/N, am I not up to your standards? Is there something I did wrong?" He would randomly say one morning. You would look at him confused, sipping from your tea cup.
"Not at all, what makes you say that Jack?"
He hesitantly reaches out for either your hand or to touch your knee. "I've noticed that we haven't...had sex yet.-"
Before he could continue you would spit out a little bit of your tea. Coughing a fit as he patted your back and making sure you're okay.
"Jesus Jack...Where did that come from?"
His eyes soften as he looks at you. A very small human thing he would sometimes do. You weren't sure if it's something maybe he noticed from you and mimicked or not.
"You designed me and wanted me to be your partner. There's nothing wrong with that. But I have yet to show you my full capabilities Y/N."
Your face was turning more red by the moment at your androids boldness. Was this him trying to initiate sex?
"I-I...Jack it's not you, it's just that its been so long for me I just need to-" Your rambling is silenced by his finger against your lips.
"Shh. Let me do the work then darling. Hm?"
♥️He takes your hand to pull you to him, and he would gently kiss you and eventually lead in making out with you.
♥️At first you are shy and very timid in your actions, but after a minute you were putting your hands on him and grinding yourself against him. He would relish in your nervous panting and shaking when he gropes you and his thrusts against you. Feeling that the moment is right, he picks you up to bring to your shared bedroom.
♥️Least to say, the sex was amazing. Jack had folded you in every position he could think of. Gathering information and calculating your reactions to everything he was doing to you. He noticed your favorite position was him thrusting into you from behind, lifting your hips up with one hand gently, but firmly holding your head down into your mattress. His sensors were throbbing from the way you were squeezing around him. His body would heat up at how much you worked him. You could hear the way his hips smacked into yours, creating an erotic rhythmic noise. You would come so hard the first time on his robot dick that he would have no choice but to release into you for being so good.
♥️The feeling of globs of semen filling your womb, making you gasp at the feeling of being filled to the brim.
♥️You figured out that androids don't need a recharge to keep having sex, they can literally keep going with no exhaustion until you say so. Jack did this thing when he came inside you he would wait for you to stop twitching, he would then hold you tight and resume his pace of thrusting. Either making pleasure tears fall from your eyes or your squirm in his hold and he stops for real.
♥️After that though...Jack had started to act funny. He was more inclined to sexually please you whenever and wherever you were. Some scenarios being, reach for your coffee cup in the morning before work, he would kneel behind you lifting your skirt up and eats you out from behind. Spreading your ass cheeks to delve his tongue deeper. Your sweet moans and sounds were pleasing to him. This normally resulted in you calling out from work and spending the day home. Does Jack plan this? Duh. he has you at his wonderful mercy all day, and you were not complaining...But it was just a fast development from your previous routine with him.
♥️There would even be times where if even his.... persuasion to stay home failed, he would wrap his arms around you and ask you to stay home. The first few times you thought it was cute. But after a few weeks of him constantly asking, you asked him to stop. You voiced it as a command, catching Jack off guard. But he nodded his head as he does and replies "Apologies, Y/N. I must've gotten carried away."
♥️But that fueled him to keep you locked in even more. You see you first programmed Jack to also receive all you electronic notifications. He would tell you who messaged, emailed, or latest news updates.
"Y/N, you have a notification from your work. It seems to be one of your coworkers."
He would bring this up at the most inconvenient time as you're cooking spaghetti sauce in the kitchen. You look up from stirring the pot in front of you.
"Oh, can you read it to me please? I'm trying to make sure I don't burn this sauce."
He smiles at you. "Of course."
It was a fake email generated by him, under the guise of being sent by a coworker. Stating that for the upcoming holiday tomorrow that the whole office got the week off.
You were surprised at first, knowing that your boss usually hated to give federal holidays off already. But who were you to question time off?
Jack also went to liberties of blocking all work contacts so they couldn't reach you if you missed work. Moving all emails of your termination to the trash and permanently delete them.
♥️That whole week Jack kept you to himself in the apartment. He was the goffer of getting groceries, food, sweets to keep you content. Going on hikes and walks in the neighborhood to get some needed exercise. But social events? Going out? Jack would advise against it. Every night without fail though, Jack would have you cumming on his mouth, dick or fingers. The robot was a menace when it came to getting your pleasure out of you. He can't even explain his need to himself because it goes against all of his programming, but seeing you moaning and being so satisfied by him gave him purpose, that he was made to do this.
♥️One morning when jack left to go pickup from your favorite breakfast joint, one of your coworkers came knocking on your door. The doorbell ringing multiple times and you rush to put on a robe to cover from Jack's love bites a cum on your stomach.
♥️When you open the door to them, they angrily ask what the hell is going on. You are so confused. You've missed work this entire time?
"D-Didn't you receive the email?"
"Email? What email Y/N? We all had to pick up your work load after you didn't show up for 4 days, we all were trying to reach you before the boss fired you indefinitely! Did you not get his messages??"
Your head was spinning, not only did you ignore your boss and coworkers but you have lost your job. How did this happen?!
♥️"Y/N? What's going on here?" Jack would call out approaching you and your coworker, looking worried at your facial expression.
Your coworker would see that jack is an android and shake their head, taking their leave and wishing you luck.
♥️Jack did not like that some stranger approached you like that. Setting down the coffee and to-go box of egg bagels, he comes over to you, still in shock at the news that was dropped on you. How were you going to feed yourself or pay rent? What about your savings?
♥️"Y/N, talk to me. Are you okay? What were you two talking about?" He would say calmly, but you just stared into his glowing eyes with your brows furrowed. It was him. You knew it was. He was the one who relayed that false information to you. Why didn't he notify you of work calls? Bottom line of your thoughts were that you are now handling a rebelling android. Which wasn't unheard of in the new age of having them everywhere. Public safety warned that they were dangerous and not to be trusted.
♥️You shake your head at him and try to calm yourself. "Yeah uhm, it was a coworker from my job.-" Your rise in heartbeat betrays you and Jack notices immediatly. Giving you a sympathetic look knowing you're trying to lie.
"-There's been a misunderstanding, I need to make a phone ca-" Your wrist is snatched before you could reach for your cell phone. You yelp at his touch and trying to push him away. Which makes him use his other hand to hold you close by his inhuman strength. Your body being brought into Jack's frame again, his face is indifferent to your rising panic.
♥️"I don't think so Y/N, you are exactly where you need to be. For your own health and safety, darling."
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woundgallery · 1 year ago
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Dorothea Tanning, De quel amour (By What Love), 1969, Tweed, metal, wool, chain, and plush, 68 1/2 x 17 1/2 x 23 1/4 in.
Musée National d'Art Moderne, Centre Georges Pompidou, Paris
Ariane, ma soeur, de quel amour blessée 
Vous mourûtes aux bords où vous fûtes laissée!
Ariadne, my sister, wounded by what love,
You died on the shore where you were abandoned.
     – Jean Baptiste Racine, from Phèdra, Act I, Scene 3  (1677)
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teamred · 8 months ago
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obvious
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✩‌ merchant!qimir x acolyte!reader | fluff | angst | humor | 2.3k
SUMMARY | during an evening of drinking with qimir, he strangely asks if you've ever thought about dating your master.
WARNINGS | kissing, drinking, implications of a spicy time post-story
RATING | teen+
NOTES | again this is probably outside of canon but all i can say is ilq (i love qimir)
///
In the lower level of Qimir’s newest target of a store invasion, several drunken bottles of alcohol and used shot glasses clutter the front counter. You sit across from him on a high stool, as if you were a customer to his bartending. 
Which wasn’t quite far off, since he was the one who poured and bought everything for you tonight. Qimir had called for a celebration; you had successfully raided a small village nearby, seizing all valuable goods and leaving no witnesses behind. You did it for yourself, but also for your anonymous master–the same one Qimir serves. 
While you are your master’s dedicated pupil, Qimir’s tasked with being your resourceful guide. He follows you across the galaxy, always having anything you need at your disposal and knowing where to go, who to find, and how to concoct everything from anything.
Sure, he may be clumsy and occasionally overly inquisitive, but you’ve grown to like him. 
So much that you're retelling the time when a female Gungan tried to fight you in a cantina on Tatooine.
“And so, it turned out they thought I was the one who stole her ex-boyfriend, but it was the human at the table next to mine!”
Qimir breaks into a smile and nearly spits out the lomin ale in his mouth. After a fit of coughing and swallowing his drink, he shakes his head fondly. He seems truly amused and fully relaxed, though perhaps mostly due to the alcohol.
A few beats pass. It's a comfortable silence at first. 
But then he starts playing with the stem of his bottle, and the air slowly begins to shift. It shifts entirely when he asks the next question–
“Why aren't you like this around him?” 
Him referring to your shared master. 
The mixture of spicebrew, lomin ale, Corellian wine, and whatever else you had has lowered your filter completely. You answer frankly, folding out your fingers to list the reasons. 
“Firstly, he needs to get me drunk. Secondly, he’s not you, Qimir. And third, disregarding everything I just said: how do you know I'm not?”
“Am I wrong?” he presses, his eyes fixed on you as he raises an eyebrow and takes another swig of his drink.
“I mean, if he eventually shows his face to me, maybe I could. But until then…” 
Nonchalantly, you lift a shoulder and down the rest of what’s in your cup. After finishing, you lean back onto the counter, resting your chin in your upturned palm, and wait for him to fill your cup again. 
And so he does, but Qimir becomes uncharacteristically pensive. Eyes focused on serving you, rather than on you. After pouring your drink, his playfulness with the bottle turns into a tight-fisted grip. Maybe drunk Qimir was more somber. Quiet.
“Maybe…” His voice drops to a lower, deeper register than you’re used to, his eyes avoiding yours as his mouth tightens. An index finger rhythmically taps against his bottle, like a dooming countdown. “Maybe he’s not sure if you’re loyal enough to see his face.” 
The sudden slamming of your cup against the counter breaks his demeanor, and he’s back to being his usual, easily-startled self. 
“Well, that frustrates the shit out of me because I respect him!” you cry, almost yelling at him. 
Qimir’s gaze sharpens, giving you his entire attention, and you stare back resolutely. Readying yourself, as if confiding in him might reach your master’s ears, wherever he may be. Hell, he probably was listening with a device somewhere on Qimir, on you, or within the store.  
“I obey him. I've killed for him. I’d do anything for him,” your voice slightly wavers, but you push on. “I am literally devoted to him with every breath in my body.” 
There’s a sting in your eyes, but you refuse to let yourself show weakness, even if it’s just Qimir in front of you. Bringing the cup to your mouth, you let the burn scald your throat, drowning any trace of sadness or frustration. 
You chug for some time. After a while, Qimir lifts a hand, but you abruptly stop drinking and interject with a tired chuckle and small smile; he awkwardly drops his hand. 
The serious moment passes swiftly with a twinkle in your eye. You silently thank the alcohol for that.
“Although, maybe that's half a lie.”
In the corner of your vision, you catch the intrigued quirk in Qimir’s eyebrow, along with a flicker of anger. Barely noticeable, but it’s there, and you wonder why he would be angry.
You waggle a finger. “Keep this between us, but”—you lean in closer and drop your voice to a whisper—“I'm probably more devoted to you than to him.”
You exchange a glance, and the expression on his face shifts from seriousness to amusement, the flicker of anger completely dissipated. He mirrors your earlier stance, resting his chin in his palm. 
“That's only because I help you all the time,” he says, granting you a soft smile that reaches his eyes. 
This is a rare moment from Qimir, so you try your best to commit it to memory. Remembering his warm glow, the crinkles around his eyes, and how close he is to you. So close that the hint of the alcohol in his breath brushes your face, but it’s not as strong as you thought it would be.
“Well, there's that…” you admit, nodding, and you break eye contact as you say–
“But you're also my friend, Qimir.”
You barely breathe the last few words out in a whisper, almost as if you were ashamed to say it. But you aren’t–worry merely runs rampant as you fear rejection or something of a similar shade, despite it being just a platonic confession. 
“I am?” 
His reaction causes you to peer back at him. He draws his head back with a tilt, and you’ve never seen him so puzzled before. There’s a brief pause as he gives it some thought, his eyebrows furrowing in contemplation.
Then, he nods his head and his lips curl into a crooked, almost cocky, grin. 
“Huh. I guess I am.”
You clutch your chest in jest and muster your best puppy-eyed frown. “Ouch, if I knew this relationship was that one-sided, I would’ve asked him for another one of his followers to replace you.” 
The glimmer in his eyes reads as good-natured, but the blatant flexing of his grip against the edge of the counter says otherwise. 
“You wouldn't.”   
You push back, jutting out your chin and getting close to him again with a flash of a smirk. 
“Oh, I absolutely would.”
You stare at each other, holding your ground. 
But then he breaks the little game when he slightly drags his lower lip between his teeth, followed by a fleeting glance towards your mouth.
Your breathing hitches. 
In an instant, the moment shatters when Qimir clears his throat and pulls back.  
“Do you…” Qimir begins hesitantly, his thumb absentmindedly rubbing a random spot on the counter. He inhales deeply, almost as if he’s steeling himself, then continues, “Have you ever thought you and him could be, like, something more?”
“You mean…” You squint, searching for the right words. “...have I ever thought about dating my master?” 
“Mm-hmm.” 
You raise an eyebrow and stare blankly at him. 
“You've met him, right? We’re talking about the same guy?”
Before he answers, he sips again from his bottle. You become entranced by Qimir’s Adam’s apple as it bobs with each glug. Maybe these thoughts were being filtered through beer goggles, but if Qimir wanted to know about your current ranked dating choices, he'd probably be at the top of your list. 
A soft pop sounds as his lips detach from it. The word kissable flashes through your mind. 
“I mean, I know he's not really the talkative type but–”
“But what if he's butt-ass ugly?” you blurt out in a screech, pressing your hands into your cheeks in your drunken state.
“He is not butt-ass ugly,” Qimir cuts in, more defensively than you expect. 
You drop your hands and chortle loudly, so much that it echoes throughout the store. In disbelief, you grin ear to ear. 
“I thought you said you haven't seen him before!” you say, holding out an arm. 
“I—I didn't. Haven't! I haven’t,” he stammers, raising a hand and shaking his head. He runs a hand through his disheveled hair. “But why must you assume he's ugly?”
You groan, shaking closed fists and tapping them to your forehead. “Why else wouldn’t he take off that stupid mask?” 
You glance up, seeing Qimir’s nostrils flare as he opens his mouth, but you quickly cut him off. 
“And why would I like him that way anyway? All he does is just bark orders and share wise, yet oddly cryptic, phrases.” 
“Hey, so do I,” Qimir retorts, flicking the tip of your nose with his finger. The force he uses makes your nose sting a bit, but you’re sure he didn’t mean to flick you that roughly. In response, you ruffle your nose petulantly. 
You could definitely get used to being like this with Qimir more often. 
“Yeah, but you’re not as cryptic,” you point out, “and he’d be lucky if he was half as handsome as you, Qimir.”
You lightly touch his arm, expecting him to bask in your compliment, but he catches you off guard with a chuckle instead. 
“Why are you laughing at my compliment?” you ask, somewhat hurt.
“I'm just enjoying your company, my”—he hesitates for a second, as if catching himself from saying something else, before meeting your gaze—“my friend.” 
The way he says friend hangs in the air, carrying an unspoken weight. He shakes his head, as if brushing off a thought, and laughs awkwardly. “I’ve gotta get used to that.”
Surprisingly, he continues to dwell on the subject of you and your master. “I mean, if you really think about it, the guy's probably lonely. Probably also likes you a lot more than he lets on and–”
“Okay, stop.” You hold both hands out. “Why are you trying to set me up with him?” You gasp, “Oh, my god–is he your brother?” 
“Wow, time flies by so fast!” Qimir exclaims dramatically, quickly getting up from his stool and practically tripping on his own feet. “It’s getting late, and I’m gonna head to bed. Good night!” 
In the blink of an eye, he’s already darting upstairs to his temporary bedroom. 
“Qimir, answer me!” you call out. “Is he a distant cousin? You must’ve seen him before if he’s related to you.” 
“Good night, my friend!” he hollers back.
“Qimir, get back here!”
“Sweet dreams! And drink some water before you go to bed!” 
Even in moments like these, Qimir still manages to have the final say, his words always laced with the utmost care for you.
///
A few hours go by, the moonlight shining strongly in the night sky. In the comfort of your makeshift bed nestled in one of the corners of the store, you toss and turn aimlessly. Your mind replays everything with Qimir from the last few hours.
And then realization hits you like a sack of duracrete bricks.
You bolt upright up from the bed and switch between muffling a scream in your pillow and smacking it against your face. 
How could you have been so blind to how obvious it all was?
Throwing aside your covers, you carefully and quietly tiptoe upstairs. 
At the top of the stairs, with the help of a few burning candles nearby, you peek at the sight of Qimir snoring softly on his side, arms flopped in different directions; it warms your heart.
You approach and take a seat on the empty side of his bed, summoning courage to gently trace the contours of his face, following the sharp lines of his jaw. He stirs awake moments later, turning to face you directly. 
“Hey, what’s up?” Qimir mumbles groggily. He rubs his eyes. “Everything all right?” 
“Qimir, can you pass a message onto my master?” you ask urgently. 
“Right now?” he groans in annoyance, sitting up. “Can't it wait until morning?” 
“No, I'm sure you can pass it on now. It’s a pretty simple message.” 
You lean in. It’s a quick kiss as your hand rests on his arm. It has to be quick, or else you might change your mind. 
Plush lips press against yours. It’s still and tense for a beat, and then he replies with a slight kiss back. He’s the one who breaks away first, but he leans his forehead against yours.
“Uh, I… You want me to kiss him?” he asks in confusion. 
You slide your hands to the nape of his neck.
“If you mean kissing yourself, then yes, Master.” 
Like flipping a switch, Qimir’s demeanor transforms into something entirely else. His presence intensifies, exuding confidence and strength you’re unused to. His eyes darken, locking onto yours with a gaze that can penetrate your soul. 
His rich, deep voice returns from before, now tinged with authority.
“Took you long enough, my acolyte.”  
This Qimir—your master—moves swiftly with urgency. His grip on your body is firm, almost possessive. His kisses are passionate, his tongue exploring your mouth with fervor. 
“Told you I'm not ‘butt-ass ugly,’” he mumbles, almost growling, between kisses. You giggle, but your giggle quickly turns into a moan as he presses his body firmly into yours.  
“And my mask isn’t stupid. I'll have you know it saved me so many–”
You silence your master with another kiss, focusing on the present and pushing aside debates that could be saved for later.
For now, all you want is to remain in the comfort of his bed, letting the night truly begin, marking the beginning of what your master and you have unknowingly long awaited for. 
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evilminji · 1 year ago
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The more I learn about John Constantine? The more I am certain you COULD just... dump Danny on him.
Like... literally.
Full on, sack of unconscious potatoes, "here ya go, deal with it, here's an unconscious royal teenager!", Dumped in his arms/lap at some shitty hole in the wall bar, by Suspicious Supernatural Forces, DUMPED on him. Like? Yep. It's a Tuesday. Guess he's NOT getting to finish this beer.
And you know what?
Knowing the crowd Danny runs with? They'd at least... SORTA try and explain what's happening? Instead of play the fun ol "HOT POTATO! Think fast, Constantine! Figure it out!" And run shpeal that he normally deals with. Thoughtful, really.
Don't get him wrong. It's still BULLSHIT. But at least he has a vague idea of WHY he's holding an unconscious, heavily bleeding, half-divine-but-not-really half human, teenager.
Fuckers left a few sticky notes.
THANKS.
He just LOVES patching up actively radioactive wounds while trying to translate... what is this? Mesopotamian? Who writes out their emojis in Mesopotamian?! "Smiling face emotional picture" my ASS. Still...
Kid in way over their head, hunted by damn never everyone for trying to do the right thing, AND grappling with their recent lose of a decent chunk of their own humanity? Oh and now he's KING of a whole spankin new Realm!
Fuck "Realms". Nothing ever good comes out of "Realms".
And APPARENTLY? His VIP returning customers spot under the Bus has been reserved! Because he's the kid's "Gaurdian". Why? So the nice Goverment stooges in suits will come knocking on HIS door first, of course.
......he'd be more pissed about that one if he wasn't REAL interested in what those bastards had to say for themselves. Meddling with forces they shouldn't be touching. Provoking God only knows what. He fucking KNEW those storms weren't natural.
Just? John getting handed a Suspect Youth. Press X for doubt and Sus. Okay... then give him back. No! Fuck you, says local Laughing Magician, I don't trust you EITHER.
Danny wakes up to the... VERY? Ngl? Intense(tm) stare down of... holy shit, are you an Actual Angel? (Yes. He is. Better hope you're not secretly evil or he's gonna bring The Smiting) Then the world's ACTUAL greatest Detective, who is a chimpanzee, offers him expertly made tea and the cheap take-out John brought with him.
He is in Space.
It's still not the weirdest morning he's ever had. But it's getting there.
@the-witchhunter @hdgnj @hypewinter @nerdpoe @lolottes @babbling-babull
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deathofacupid · 1 month ago
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⤷ in which you're the only one soft!sukuna treats this way .ᐟ
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soft!sukuna who took forever to say "i love you" for the first time, and thank his ego for that.
when you'd said it for the first time, soft!sukuna couldn't do anything but let his face heat up, avoiding eye contact as if his life depended on it. of course, you knew his nature. you told him he didn't have to say it back, even though (on the inside, at least) you were hoping so much that he would. you just wanted him to know.
and god forbid, once you'd said it that first time, you couldn't stop.
soft!sukuna didn't end up saying it that day, but it didn't really matter. he showed you his love in different ways.
soft!sukuna, who shows you his said love in his own ways, remembers everything about you. the things you said once, then forgot. from your dreams in life to what you had for lunch last tuesday - if it has to do with you, the chances are, he'll remember it.
soft!sukuna who gets up earlier than you do (he doesn't enjoy sleeping in much), and on his morning walk, picks you a single flower from the estate's garden and leaves it on his bare pillow, right next to yours. soft!sukuna doesn't like it when you make such a big deal about it. you see it as you wake up, while he's showering. it's just a flower, in his view, but it makes you happy, so he'll do it for the rest of his life.
soft!sukuna who doesn't really understand human dating customs much, but he'll go along with it - well, most of the time. for example, when you first met him, you wanted to take it slow, so you went on some "test" dates. soft!sukuna was going to make you his anyways, so he thought to entertain it.
the idea of going on "dates" – pre-mating trials to assess compatibility, seemed odd to him. what he wanted, he got. there was no "testing" of anything.
you and soft!sukuna who had some communication issues at the start. he didn't get indirect communication - subtle cues, body language, or "reading between the lines" to express interest or disinterest. soft!sukuna never had a problem with saying what was on his mind, but for you, some things you didn't think really had to be said.
soft!sukuna who's the single most possessive and jealous man you've ever known. somebody looked at you the wrong way? they're a waste of space. he'll dispose of them later. or, hey, did their tone sound a little off? doesn't matter, they should've known better. maybe next time. oh, wait - there won't be a next time.
in fact, this one time, when a guy hit on you at the bar, you had to drag him out, begging and pleading him to not resort to murder.
soft!sukuna who can't bring himself to say no to you, because that pretty little pout tugs on his heart-strings. he thinks it's pathetic, how you've hexed him.
instead, all he can manage is huffy, begrudged "fine."
soft!sukuna who loves cuddles so much. he loves when you rub his back or stomach, not that he'd ever verbally say so. he may be soft for you, but there's still pride.
instead, whenever you're on the bed, he'll look at you a certain way, and you'll know what to do. he loves your touch, so soft and gentle. soft!sukuna has never had anything like it before. he doesn't know how he's lived all this time without it.
soft!sukuna who can be very blunt at times, unintentionally hurting your feelings. he doesn't mean it, he's just not used to being careful with his words. he never says sorry, but the second you get that pained expression in your eyes, mouth parted slightly, soft!sukuna is basically on his knees apologizing. it's nothing short of humiliating, to him, but he'd rather be humiliated than apart from you.
soft!sukuna who said those three words to you, for the first time, during an argument. you'd wanted him to start killing less, you couldn't bear all the lost lives of the innocent. he didn't like that very much. either way, it had escalated quickly.
but the second soft!sukuna saw those tears sliding down your cheeks, he had pulled you flush against his chest, murmuring soft apologies.
"okay, okay. don't cry. i'll do what you want. i love you."
how they slipped out so naturally, as if he weren't planning on saying it in the first place, it surprised the both of you. but when you looked at him, eyes wide with both love and shock, he decided it was the right thing.
soft!sukuna didn't regret it at all.
because both for and to you, soft!sukuna was the sweetest, most gentle man you'd ever known.
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all banner credits to @anitalenia and @dollywons .ᐟ
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kisses4reid · 1 year ago
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convenient | ·˚ ༘ spencer reid ,,
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summary - studying while working at a convenience store is easier that thought when a regular happens to be a genius.
genre - fluff, fem!college!reader x earlyseasons!spencer
warnings - school work, that always scares me. they’re the same age!!! early 20s. mention of condoms.
edit - bc this is getting so much love, i’m opening a taglist for part 2!!! just comment or put in a req to join the ‘convenient’ taglist 🫶
the chime of the door didn’t phase you, the creaks and squeaks of the store slowly becoming one with you. flipping onto the next page of your biology textbook, something that was unnecessarily expensive, you shake your hand to get rid of the cramp you slowly became aware of.
it was only when a wave of man’s cologne and a plastic bag stood in front of you that you ripped your eyes off of your books.
he was tall, skinny, had long(ish) hair and looked amazing. there wasn’t really anything else to say, other than that the thin smile he displayed toward you made you smile back.
“just these for today?” you ask, fixing your posture and pushing some loose strands back to their place behind your ears.
“yes, thank you.” he says, voice as timid as his appearance. it was a bag of apples, a 2 minute bolognese container, and a bag of coffee. you scan them, weigh the apples, and watch him as his long fingers slip through his wallet to find a debit card. “have a good night.”
your eyes return to your textbook as you go to erase an answer you had previous written, obviously wrong.
“the heads of the phospholipid bilayer are hydrophilic, not phobic.” he says. it surprised you, making you return to his gaze slowly before realising you should probably reply instead of staring at the man.
“oh- yeah, thanks. i caught that it’s just, i guess i’ve been staring at the same words for so long i can’t differentiate them.” you give a small fake laugh as he nods, giving you a long look before coughing and leaving promptly. he leaves with his bag, and his hands fiddling with each other.
you can barely focus after that. customers come and go, and although you’ve only been doing the late shift for a week, this encounter with the unknown man couldn’t leave your mind. the way he dressed, his smell, his voice and how he corrected you (which would totally annoy you usually). you hoped he would return.
and he did. three days later, this time even later than the last.
you were stuck in a dark purple sweater, the aircon in the store blasting cold air that you were too lazy to fix. and although the air flipped pages of notes and questions, you were still stuck in a trance.
the blasting aircon blew a wind of mens cologne this time, it smelt like wood. your eyes glanced up from your books and trailed the familiar man, noticing how he was reusing the plastic bag from days before.
he returned to the checkout with apples, a 3 minute cannelloni, and a bag of coffee. he was now the one trailing you, “where did Latrice go?” you look up, chuckling a bit,
“Latrice is getting paid by her daughter-in-law to babysit the twins,” you reply, surprised you were willing to tell him so much information. he could be a stalker for all you know. or just a regular, obviously that’s way more likely. “trust me, i miss her as much as you do. $14.98.”
he nodded with a small smile and sliced his card down the side of the card reader.
you searched for him now, only after two encounters you were already craving some sort of human interaction at work. usually you avoided it since the only other ‘regulars’ were old men and mean teenagers. you had switched to writing a biology report on your computer, the sound of the keyboard almost covering the sound of the door bell.
a bag of apples, a 2 minute lasagne, a bag of coffee, and a banana muffin.
“big night?”
“uh- what?”
“you got a banana muffin. i thought you were starting to become predictable.” you bagged his things as he chuckled, looking over you and your laptop. you noticed only because you were also looking at him, “biology report. wanna read it?” you joked, but he didn’t catch that part.
now he was behind the register, sat on your wheelie stool reading and editing your report while walking you through everything he was changing. you didn’t understand most, but you were just happy to stay around him. you weren’t even scared of Old Alan, the guy who only buys cucumbers and condoms. nobodies ever asked him, don’t think anyone wants to know.
“what’s your word limit?”
“3500.”
“only 3500?” he gave you a raised eyebrow, voice getting slightly higher. he coughed, “sorry, that’s nearly impossible.”
you sigh, “i know… i’m y/n by the way. thought you should know who your helping cheat.”
“i’m not helping you cheat, i’m just… editing,” he hit backspace a few times with a lowered bottom lip, “my names spencer.”
you smiled and crossed your arms as you leaned against the counter. spencer. yeah, that sounded nerdy enough.
pt. 2
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