#wine go BRR

[coff33andb00ks]

Until You

Part One | Part Two

charles leclerc x female pop singer!reader x oscar piastri f1 smau with intermittent scenes fc: none it's a mix of taylor swift, sabrina carpenter, and random pinterest ladies. {voice claim is adele}

Summary: he drives vroom vrooms, she sings soulful tunes. there's no way in hell this is gonna work, right? Warnings: language Notes: my first foray into smau and holy shit these are a lot of fun (and work omg). special thanks to @driverlando for the encouragement and listening to me whine

ynyln

liked by charles_leclrec, landonorris, pierregasly and 3,689,476 others ynyln: Merci beaucoup, Paris! Je t'aime et à bientôt!! ❤️💋 user1: formula one what are you doing here     user2: she's always been a fan? user3: hope you're ok!! <3 user4: mother showing us all why she's mother pierregasly: magnifique spectacle, rendez-vous à Monaco! user5: did anyone see the fan vides of the f1 boys there?      user6: she's gonna be at Monaco?!?!      user7: were they in vip?      user5: yeah but from what I've seen they didn't go backstage or anything user7: announce split from shitbag bf then perform best show of her tour? queen shit

ynyln

liked by mclaren, charles_leclrec, scuderriaferrari and 2,912,672 others ynyln: For the first time I will be attending a Grand Prix! Vroom vrooms make my heart go brr. Eternally grateful to scuderiaferrari for the invitation. (They don't have to know my favorite driver is on mclaren) 📷: poster of the gp I was supposed to go to 2 years ago scuderriaferrari: 🤨 scuderriaferrari: we're sure you'll be a converted tifosi by Sunday mclaren: yn is our fan 🙏🏻 Oscar and Lando on cloud 9 now f1: Looking forward to (finally) welcoming you! user4: alright y'all is she a Lando or Oscar girlie      ynyln: can't I love them both 🥺 user8: great now I gotta watch all the grand prix stuff this week for a glimpse of mother user7: why didn't you go 2 years ago?     user8: J*stin that's why ynbff: I know this is so beyond huge for you! You're going to have such a great time!! (liked by ynyln) user4: idk but it's weird she's all happy and stuff right after the end of her relationship with IDK      user1: not really? If you look back for the past year they were rarely seen together. He didn't even go to her launch party in London      user5: yeah anyone could see they were over long before they announced it. she probably mourned it already

ynyln

liked by charles_leclrec, ybffn, oscarpiastri, landonorris, and 4,698,981 others

ynyln: Dinner in Monte Carlo. Do I go all in on black or red?

scuderriaferrari: red, obviously landonorris: black charles_leclerc: Red maxverstappen1: Black ynyln: all these blue check marks where are my lil lattes 😩 user2: yn stays forgetting she's the biggest blue check mark user1: not max joining in the mclaren vs ferrari fight for YN mclaren: Papaya 🥺 (but black)      scuderiaferrari: go comment on your own guest's posts      mclaren: you sent the invite after we mentioned doing it      landonorris: do better admin      mclaren: We'll get her next time      redbullracing: not if we get her first      landonorris: if not we're going on strike      oscarpiastri: we what      landonorris: for legal reasons that was a joke 🙄 oscarpiastri: I quite like the red user3: I love that YN asked opinions on her fit but it's just f1 drivers and admins fighting over her 🍿🍿 (liked by author)      ynyln: it's amazing right? no one's fought over me before user3: bffr sabrinacarpenter: love the black but the red slays 🫶🏻 redbullracing: we vote blue      mclaren: that's not an option?      redbullracing: we still vote blue      scuderiaferrari: don't you have an energy drink to go sell user4: came for the pics, stayed for the f1 chaos

ynyln has added to their story

caption: making men wait for selfies before i order food? yes

Y/n and Charles lingered over their wine, and when yn/bff made the signal that they should get going y/n waved her off. Usually she hated social settings, but Charles was so personable and warm that she felt like she was chatting with a longtime friend. "You can go, Pete can get me back to the hotel," she said, glancing to the table in the corner, where Pete and Charles's bodyguards sat. The dining room was private, and she had the feeling that Ferrari had paid to have the restaurant closed to anyone but their small party for the night.

"I will make sure she gets back safely," Charles promised.

Yn/bff relented, excusing herself and leaving. The next several moments YN bid goodnight to the others, smiling sweetly and shaking hands of the Ferrari personnel and members of the team, and finally Carlos, who shared a knowing look with Charles before he left.

"You don't have to stay with me," she said as the waiter came to refill their glasses.

"No, I am having a wonderful time." He smiled, asking the waiter to leave the bottle. "I have wanted to meet you for a long time."

That surprised her. "Really?" she asked, sipping her wine.

He nodded, standing and bringing his glass and the bottle around so he could sit next to her. "I've been a fan of yours since – ah, I'm bad at song titles. The song where it's – I heard that you're settled down. I can't sing, I'm sorry."

She smiled. "Someone Like You?"

"Yes, that one." Charles leaned one arm on the table. "A few of us came to Paris and we were supposed to come backstage after the show, but after what happened…"

"I saw pictures and videos of you and – Lando and Pierre right? I wish I could have met you then – I've been a fan forever, but…" She swallowed hard, glancing down briefly. "I cancelled my post show meetings," she murmured. "It didn't seem right."

"Were you…" He paused, then shook his head. "It is none of my business."

"Was I too upset?" she guessed, taking another sip as the surprised flashed in his eyes. "I suppose I was. You were at the show… Those emotional moments weren't rehearsed."

"I could tell."

"Do you want to know the crazy part?" She didn't know why she was sharing this with him. He was a stranger. Yet she felt so at ease with him. More at ease than she had in a long time, really. "I wasn't crying for him."

"Who were you crying for, chérie?" he asked softly.

"Myself. For the wasted time, the pain I put myself through." Y/n gave her head a little shake. "I'm sorry, you don't want to hear about that."

"I want to hear about anything you wish to say."

"Are you always this charming?" she asked.

"I'm not charming. That makes it sound like I'm trying to make you like me. I am just… Me, y/n."

"You. Charles Leclerc, one of the top drivers in formula one."

"And you are just y/n, queen of music."

"I wasn't always."

"Neither was I."

"Touche," she sighed, lightly clinking her glass to his. "But you are charming."

"Perhaps I am just charmed. I am glad you went with the red." His eyes stayed on her as he finished his wine. Then he glanced to the corner, hesitating before facing her again. "Would you like to go somewhere more private?"

She hesitated. She didn't know him. The last thing she needed was some messy disaster of a fling, or to dive into a new relationship. And yet… "Yes," she whispered.

tbc.

[slickchickchocolatier]

MIND GOING BRR AT THINKING ABOUT HOW SEX WITH HUMAN HEESEUNG AND IMMORTAL YN WENT,did she....act like a succubus or was as clueless as the mortal yn

And it went down exactly like this….

Warnings: Smuuuuuuuuuuuut central here. Y/n gets deceived, y/n is a bad girl, y/n gets it, heeleads swap y/n’s, alternate universe, mention of the word ‘r*pe*, devil baby eating people, unprotected smut, non-con/sub-con smut, heavy noncon smut vibes, time space continuum, time space travel, different worlds, kind of a marvel vs dc vibe. This is an aftermath from the Drabble “Somewhere in Time”.

You stood firm, crossing your arms while doing your best to remain ignorant. Knowing that this wouldn’t end well for you, you braced for impact, expecting for him to grab you from behind and twirl you around. There had been a handful of times that you and Helel had little arguments, but with him being the devil and ultimate powerful, many would deem it pointless to even try and throw a fit. Perhaps you were just too damn stubborn and prideful to submit, even knowing that the white flag would be waved in a moment….he always had his ways.

Facing the side of the mortal realm, you waited for the moment where he’d take you to bed by force. It would be a repeated act where you’re on the bed underneath him, taking in the rape as it slowly progresses to submission. As per usual, he’ll get you to the point where you’ll stop fighting, and beg for more until you can’t take it any longer, in which he’ll have you back to screaming for mercy. What a sicko. But, he IS the devil after all…and you’re married to him.

It all started after you returned home with him. You thought all would be well since a spark arose within you after Helel and his alternate souls rescued you and your own counterparts. For so many years since he’s taken you, you fought physically and emotionally against the idea of accepting his love. But your pride grew weak and you started to fall for him….no doubt it was a result of a disorder enforced by his own method. Anyone suppressed by a kind captor will eventually fall for them.

Upon the return to Hell from the most recent endeavor, you grew angry in seeing baby Helan sitting there, tearing the pieces of mortal flesh. You stood in total shock as the toddler tone of “mommy! Mommy!” Came out from those bloody lips. The red stain smeared his face and clothes as he sat there reaching up, closing and opening his fingers enthusiastically, waiting for you to pick him up. There were bits and pieces of limbs, fingers, organs and all sorts of fleshy parts you refused to look at. That innocent smile on your child’s face was a facade; behind it was pure malice and grotesque evil, enabled by his father.

“W-what-…!!” You stutter as you trembled, falling to your knees as your baby rushed over and hugged you. “Mommy! I missed you!”

Your eyes remained wide in horror while your hands stayed glued to the stone floor, you couldn’t think or react, not even to return the embrace of your own child.

Later that evening, you spoke to Helel about it begrudgingly.

“I thought we had an agreement that I don’t want Helan to do things like that.”

Helel scoffed as he finished sipping on his wine glass. A faint gulp slides down as he sides-eye you. Placing it down on the table, he reaches and began loosening his collard tie, smirking an adoring look over to you. “It was hardly an agreement. You mentioned your complaints and I listened.”

Here we go. This is the part that of which you hate. “Darling, he’s a growing boy…and not like the ones from where you originated. He needs flesh and blood in order to grow. Once he reaches a mature age he will be able to live without ever requiring the need for sustenance.”

You shook your head. “No…no I don’t like that. There has to be another way. I don’t want my baby to do monstrous things.”

He looks you over. “You? The Goddess of Hell—“

“HE’S MY BABY TOO!” You yelled, fierce anger in your eyes as you sphered them in his direction. His affectionate smile slowly starts to fade and his hand drops as he releases his tie. With a raise of a brow, his eyes wide and you knew, you crossed the line. A

He slowly walks over calmly, surprisingly. Whenever he was upset with you he’d immediately became forceful, teaching you a lesson while reiterating how much he loved you, and that it was all for your own good. But this time, he truly was pissed off. Not that you were justifying him, but a slight bit of you could understand his position. Your son is the offspring of the Devil after all, and the latter had just went through Heaven and Hell, visiting multiple worlds in gathering a league to save you and all versions of you. In his eyes, you were coming off as ungrateful.

His silence was more frightening than anything. He stood, watching as you tucked your chin and stared at the ground in shame. He peers down his outstanding height and just looks at you….sternly, with rage. What was more unusual was that he merely took a piece of your hair, and rubbed it together. He was being so tender and gentle, despite his eyes violating you through every hole in your body.

He sighs. “Bad girl.” Was all he barely whispers with a slight deep tone.

You shook as the shive stabbed your spine. You were going to get it this time.

“I-I—“ he cuts you off as he places a finger over your lips. “Shhhh…don’t fucking speak.”

You trembled. “Go to the bed, and stay there.”

You did as he demanded and tucked yourself away under the velvet bedding. He was being odd and handing this situation differently. God, it scared you so much.

He quietly leaves the room. You knew better than to try and follow or leave. The man has eyes and ears everywhere; it is Hell after all.

You were so scared that the fear took an emotional strain out of you, exhausting you. You drifted off to sleep immediately, unaware of what was coming.

………

“Geez, what is it now? Why are you here?”

“Ah—collecting the savoring morsels for your lovely girl, are we?”

“Isn’t there a lovely girl of your own that you should be feeding?”

“Precisely why I’m here.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?”

Helel grins as he converses with his identical alternate.

“Be truthful. You love her.”

“Duh.”

“You love her so much that you also adore ALL flavors of her…don’t you?”

……

Heeseung stares sternly at his Devil counterpart. “Is there a point to this?”

“I am saying, o’hostile college-pretty-boy, that you and I are same. We love and kill for our brides. We are the only ones that love and care for them…all of them.” Helel crosses his arms. “You’re not the type to share…but is it really sharing if it is…you? “

Heeseung’s eyes sparked in rage, yet the devil continued. “And don’t you…want to experience your pretty baby in a different light?”

His counterpart calmed down. There wasn’t any denying the fact that the moment he saw you…other versions of you, his mind went wild. For you, he lives and breathes; it was blissful to have you in his life…what could be better than to have multiple duplicates of his precious girl?

“If we do this, just know that I’m not going to be restricted by any means. If I’m fucking my girl, regardless if it’s an alternate variant of her, I’m going all in.”

Helel smirks. “Relatable.”

“I can take who’s next.” The cashier spoke as the two remained facing each other. Both flaring a deadly smile.

……………..

You woke up, still in bed. Helel didn’t come back? Was he really that angry? What was he doing? This was too terrifying to deal with. You can’t believe you were saying this but in a sense, you’d wish he’d just rape and fuck your brains out already. At least you’d find some pleasure and resolvement from it….but this…this sense of unknowing his intentions was too dangerous. He always says he’d love you too much but is there a line that even YOU cannot cross with the Devil?

The e door gently opens, and you hear the foot steps walk around the large platform bed frame. “Helel?”

“Mmhmm.”

He walks over, and doesn’t say anything more as he moves his fingers, signaling for you to crawl closer towards the edge of the bed. He had a soft smirk. It was strange, though. His aura seemed off-putting. Your senses could feel there was something different but you couldn’t put your finger on it. Abiding by his non-verbal signal, you crawl over on all fours and allowed those two fingers to caress your chin. “You’ve been a bad girl?”

He spoke in an inquired tone. You assumed it was him being antagonizing in his demeanor, since you recognized the signs of sexual tension rising. “Yes…I’ve been bad..” you softly responded. You knew what he wanted to hear. You knew that he intended to punish you.

“Well, let’s do something about that.” He sighs out, leaning down as he grips your jawline. His elegant attire of black satin and white chiffon just made him so classy and irresistible. He kisses you, and to your surprise it was warm and tender. “Take it off.” He whispers, staring into your eye with an aloof but soft expression.

You began shedding off your undergarments, leaving just the garter and thigh high, damask stockings in place. “Good. Now take mine off.”

You undress him, beginning with his tie. Once you got the undershirt unbuttoned, he slowly pushed your head down, dragging your cheek against his entire abdominal muscles. You took the hint and undid his trousers, reaching to release his throbbing muscle; and it was throbbing. It was breathing to you.

“Put that bad little mouth on it.”

His voice was smooth and airy. Deep and dark. God, this man was so fine. Why the hell did you yell at him in the first place?

You lavished his cock with your saliva. Smoothing the moisture up and down, you dragged your tongue and traced every bit of vein and inch of it. He grits his teeth, enjoying this so much more than you expected. He slaps his hands on your arms as he flings you on your back. You yelped from the sudden change of motion as the level of force you recognized started to appear. Here it is…here is what you were both, dreading and looking forward to.

“H-Helel…” you whispered. “Wrong name baby.” He responded back as he kisses you, shoving his hand in between your thighs. You gasped out into his mouth. “Heeseung! Heeseung!”

It wasn’t odd to you, after all he went by both his original title and the name he adopted, the one that his brothers often called him by. Normally, however, during his deliverance of his punishments, he’d force you to call him Helel. But it seems he may have cooled off and wasn’t as angry anymore.

“Heeseung!” You gasped as he ravished your breasts with his tongue. This was all enough to get you ovulating, you swore to yourself.

“Come here…bad girl.”

You nod as he started to incorporate more force, aggression, and roughness as he lines himself to your center, all while placing one thigh on his hip as the other rested against his bicep, extending the leg up and over his shoulder. You were left wide open for him to take you…

He slides in, slowly. Sloooooooowly.

“Ah!! Heeseung!” You yell, gasping for air as your pants increases. He makes you watch as he continues to go in…slowly. When he finally was all in, he grinds his balls against your taint as he leans forward and fully hovers above you. “Let’s fuck the bad out and full you with some goodness.”

You furrow your brows in worry as you await for the ultimate pounding to occur. Fuck he is going to ruin you.

He slides out, the relief of the tight fullness dissipates as he gets all but the tip out, when suddenly….

“AHHH!!! FFFFUCK!!! SSSSTOP!!”

You can’t recall him ever going this brutal, it was as if he was starving for you. The only time you ever felt him this needy was when he took you for the first time. Thrusting, pounding, and reaching depths of your interior that was enough to make you drool and pass out, you lay mercilessly and took every bit of his thunder.

“Yeah? Fucking beg! Bad fucking girl, come on! Beg!” He grits out as the beads of sweat start to form on every inch of his smooth skin.

Screaming, crying, and panting, he gets you dumb-fucked until finally you reach that peak that took time to build up. Through all the pain and rough aggression, it finally pushed through and to his pleasure, you begged for him to keep going.

“Oh please! Please…don’t stop! Don’t stop! Don’t stop…fffffucking me!”

He smirks as he picks up the pace and goes faster. Your body bounces rigorously against the bedsheets as he slams into you. What a delightful scene it was to see you helplessly taking his cock and shifting in wild motion as he pumps you repeatedly. In fact, you were bouncing so much from the impact, he had to hold you by the neck to hold you steady as he enhanced momentum.

Gritting his teeth and flinging his head back, you watched as his naked body knelt before twitches while he releases. “Fuck!”

He pulsates and fills you, and for a moment the softness that came after had you thinking he was done…but he wasn’t.

The tightening of his grip around your neck said otherwise. His hips regain the thrusting motion, starting off slow and picking up pace. “Heeseung…no!” You gasp as the pleasure remained but the pain was starting to sting.

For who knows how long, he pelted you over and over again. Words in between of “let me enjoy this…” were harshly whispered into your ear as he changed positions and flipped you over, turn you onto your side, and even had you on top, while he still carried the rhythm and controlled the movements. Fucked left, right, up, and down, you realized that he was indeed punishing you as he went beyond in delivering overstimulation and pain.

By the time he released for the sixth or seventh time, you begged with barely any air in your lungs. “N-no more….p-ppplease….”

Your body was lifeless as he catches his breath. “Fuck that was better than I imagined.”

He quickly dresses, still somewhat sweaty which was surprising, considering he never really eluded such human traits. “I…I’m sssso-rry…sorry…”

You barely got it out of you but you managed to apologize, hoping that he would allow you to rest fully tonight. “Aw baby.” He whispers as he leans in and kisses you. His hand grabs hold of yours and he interlocks your fingers together as he massages the back of your palm. Breaking the kiss, he tells you…

“I’ll let him know. Wish I could stay, but I gotta get back to you.”

What?……

You didn’t have the energy to respond, but it suddenly clicked. The change in his aura, the sweat beads, and the way he ferociously fucked you with starved hunger in his eyes.

“H-Heeseung…” you gently spoke out as you recognized the figure from the incident. The one who belonged to the youngest version of your being. You watched as he smirked. “Wrong name baby.”

You looked him from the side as your hair is messily plastered to your face, and your body drained. You couldn’t even form the confused expression in your eye as he spoke his words. He smiled and there, you witnessed one inhuman trait among this man. His eyes darken, his grin becomes sinisterly devious as he bites down his bottom lip. “Be sure to name one of the kids after me. Little Ethan has a ring to it.”

He kisses you once more and takes his leave.

Moments later, he comes in…Helel. With an offensive smirk, he notes your exhausted body. You barely could move as you moaned, struggling to regain composure. Standing side the bed, you heard the disheveling spill of cloth as he sheds off his attire, piece by piece. You felt his hand grab you waist as he turns you fully over to your back as he crawls on top of you. Gently wiping the pieces of sweaty stands from your forehead, he admires your face as his fingers tap against your cheek and the corner of your lips.

Oh no….

“Now, let’s hear that apology, hm?” He smirks against your ear as he lines the tip to your worn and beaten entrance. “Let’s hear how sorry you REEEEEAALLY are.”

“Nnngh….nnmph!” You moaned as you struggled to gain a breath in, he’s pushing into you. Your legs begin to shiver and your spine jolts from the hypersensitivity levels that radiates from your core. “Now that I had some time to blow off some steam, I figure this is more than an appropriate time for you to show daddy how you’re going to make up for your mistake, hm? Let’s turn you back into a good girl again.”

The worst and best night of your entire afterlife. Two of the same men pile-driving you. So this is why he was so calm earlier…what a devious man he was. You knew you had already lost, and you were about to lose even more. Since that’s the case, you thought it be fitting to get a word in, knowing he wasn’t going to go easy, despite his demeanor.

“Ethan…”

“Pardon?” He widened his eyes as he lifts a stern brow. “N-next child….i brrrring in…name is…E-Ethan…”

He smirks. “Ah…Ethan. Right.” Kissing you, he pulls away as he pinches your chin. “If it’s a bunch of heathens you want, no problem. I can give you loads of them.” He snaps his fingers.

You saw them walk in. The sight put your breath on hold and caused your eyes to sting in despair as you watched each fine, nude form stand around the bed, stroking their cocks at the sight of you. “How about a godly descendant, a pair of twins, and a nations most wanted? Sounds like you’re eager to be a mommy again, and you know I aim to please you…darling.”

With a dark chuckle, he spoke as the others closed in.

“Let’s fuck her boys.”

No…NO! NOO!!!!! NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!

- Fin

Taglist: @enheene , aiden2001 , @heeseung-min , @lathan1510 , @rayofsunshineeee , @hoyeonheeseung , @rayofsunshineeee , @yohanabanana , @sunoosrightbuttcheek , @jaeneohee , @icydawon , @silcry , @iamliacamila , @nikstrange , @enheene ; @nuriicata , @en-happiness @lisaaannna @en-geneisaxx

[charmandabear]

Office Hours - Chapter Six

Summary:

Astarion surprises you with a night at the theatre that doesn't go quite according to your plan.

Pairing: Astarion/F!Reader Rating: Explicit Word Count: 4.7k Tags/Warnings: rough/angry sex, hair pulling, emotional manipulation, dubcon, bad BDSM practices, angst, daddy kink, reminiscent of Ascended!Astarion, discussions of domestic abuse (in Taming of the Shrew)

Hi. Hello. My sweets. My darlings. This is it. The chapter where you absolutely must mind the tags. Just know that I won't take you anywhere that we won't be able to come back from. Know that I, too, am an absolute baby when it comes to intense subject matter in fics. But I want you to take care of yourselves and your hearts. As always, shoot me a message if you'd like more specifics.

Photo credits: Zaria for Green Pussy Suit Astarion and Nephi Garcia for the incredible dress.

Read on AO3 ~ Masterlist

“In the library? Babes, are you insane?” Shadowheart's voice reaches a pitch you’re fairly sure only dogs can hear. You curl your knees into your chest and cover your face in your hands, feeling the exact appropriate amount of shame.

“I know, I know. All logic goes out the fucking window around him. All I can think is ‘mm, good dick makes brain go brr.’” You let out a frustrated sigh into your hands.

“Do you want to get fired?” She pulls your hand from your face so you can't hide from her pointed stare.

“Oh trust me, I ran about forty different scenarios of that happening through my head on the drive home.”

“Did you, now? And in how many of these did he also get fired?” Shadowheart presses, knowing how your anxiety can get out of hand.

“Like, two,” you groan and drop your head back onto the couch cushions. “I don't know what comes over me. I feel like I can't tell him no.”

“Wait, wait.” Shadowheart grips your knee, suddenly worried. “You can't tell him no as in it feels too good to stop? Or as in it doesn't feel safe to say no?”

“Nine hells, no, the first one!” you respond, horrified. She squints at you and you squirm under her gaze until you’re finally more truthful, both with her and yourself. “Well, I mean, mostly. Like it's not like that. But like also not not like that, you know?”

“I can assure you I do not,” she says in a flat voice, not interested in joking around. You sigh dramatically, trying to find the right words to describe how you feel.

“Like. Okay. Am I fully consenting to everything we do? Yes. 100%. Oh gods, yes.” Your cheeks tinge pink even thinking about it. “But like… am I going against my best judgment? Do I feel like I should say no? Does part of me kinda wish I would say no? Like… maybe?”

“Tav, that's not okay. You need to talk to him about this.” Shadowheart’s voice is soft with genuine worry. Which is ridiculous, because she’s focusing on the wrong thing.

“No, see, that's the thing. It's not actually a him issue, it's a me issue. Like there's something wrong with me, I see his most toxic traits and suddenly I'm like a horny teenager!” Your voice increases in pitch as you grow more hysterical. “How am I supposed to call him out on it when the only words that will come out of my mouth are ‘yes daddy, more please’?”

“Is there anything redeemable about him at all? Besides being good in bed?” She leans back, taking a sip of her wine and fixing you with an incredulous look. 

“I mean… yeah. He’s witty, and bantering back and forth with him is fun. He’s incredibly smart, as loath as I am to admit it, and I like hearing his ideas on things, especially his interpretation of Shakespeare’s text.” You don't even notice the smile growing on your face, but Shadowheart does. “And he’s got this unexpectedly soft side. Like he seems cold and aloof on the outside, but he cares, deeply. About his students, about his cat, about-”

“About you?” she interjects, and your smile falters.

“I don't know, Shade,” you say quietly, almost ashamed to look her in the eye. “I think so. I hope so. But it's not like we've been seeing each other for that long, he’s under no obligation to feel anything.” You practically swallow the last sentence, a truth you're reticent to voice. 

“And you?” she asks softly.

“Man, I don't fucking know. I just want to keep getting laid and not catch feelings, is that so much to ask?” you whine. She laughs, but you can tell that she's only humoring you.

“For you? Probably.”

***

It's been several days and your busy schedules have kept you and Astarion apart for most of it. Save the occasional tension-filled passing in the hall, you've barely interacted at all. You're almost beginning to believe that your whirlwind affair has come to an end when you find a mystery package at your apartment door.

It's made out to you with no discernable return address. You bring the box into your apartment while examining it, trying to ascertain its origin. It doesn't even really look like it was sent through the mail, it looks like it was dropped off.

You take out your phone and call down to the front desk. It rings a few times, then a somber voice answers.

“What dost thou require?” His voice is deep and crackled, like some ancient eternal being.

“Hi Withers, it's Tav in 3C. Do you know anything about this package that was left at my door?”

“I have inspected it, and determined it safe for you to open. It was brought by someone claiming to be a friend.”

“Can you tell me anything about this someone?”

“No.”

And the line goes dead. You laugh and shake your head. If Withers says it's safe, then it probably is. You’d trust that wrinkly old man with your life, honestly. You cut open the tape sealing the box shut and lift off the top.

Inside is something wrapped in tissue paper with a note stuck to it in Astarion's immaculate handwriting. 

Tomorrow evening The Rosewood Seven o’clock Wear nothing underneath

You let out a small involuntary moan when you read the last three words. You carefully unwrap the tissue paper to find a fabric that looks like it's made of starlight. You pull out the midnight black dress and go slightly breathless when you get a good look at it. 

It’s a backless dress with a sweetheart neckline and intricate gold embellishments that almost make it look like armor. It has a lavish gold neck piece attached by several gold chains that drip over the skin. The skirt is made of a weightless black fabric that shimmers with gold as you move it in the light. It almost appears to be cut into two panels with dual hip-high slits.

With a dress cut like this, you wouldn't be able to wear undergarments even if you wanted to.

Your heart hammers in your chest as you think about what he might have in store for you. You're not even sure what's running at the Rosewood right now, but it could be complete trash and you wouldn't even care. You probably won't even be able to pay attention, too distracted by Astarion sitting next to you for two hours.

You feel a pulsing between your legs at the thought. You think of his hand sliding up your knee while you struggle to keep a straight face. Or him reaching an arm around you, gently sliding his fingers into your hair before giving it a sharp tug.

Another moan works its way out of your throat and you follow it up with an annoyed groan. You can really get swept up at the most inconvenient times. It’s not like you don’t have any work you need to do or anything. You roll your eyes as you stalk off to draw a bath.

***

Waiting in the lobby of the theater, you’re feeling surprisingly nervous. The dress, though beautiful, is not particularly comfortable. With all of its various chains and pieces, you needed Shadowheart’s help just to put it on. It helps that she’s also incredibly talented when it comes to hair and makeup, so in truth you feel positively glamorous. 

When you see Astarion, however, everything goes silent. You’re certain that he’s posing for you the way he’s stopped to adjust his cuff. The cut of the suit he’s wearing is exceptionally flattering and you imagine running your hands all over the emerald velvet. His crisp white button down is almost sheer and you desperately want to pull him into you by that forest green silk tie. 

But you can’t tear your eyes away from his face. This is the first time you've seen him wear makeup, and the simple smokey eyeliner look makes his red irises pop. He’s decided to forgo his glasses, presumably opting for contacts instead to show off the makeup. He’s also swapped out his standard silver hoops for little daggers with a red rhinestone glimmering at the hilt. 

He looks up at you the moment you lay eyes on him, or more specifically, the moment your heart starts to beat out of your chest. He flashes you a devastating smile before striding up to you and pulling you into a deep kiss. You can’t even be bothered to care that the other patrons are probably staring as he slides his hand onto your bare lower back, his cool touch sending a shiver up your spine.

He pulls away from you just enough to breathlessly ask, “Are you ready to sit down?”

“Huh?” You’re distracted, too busy plotting a mental path to the bathrooms to fuck him. He lets out a winded chuckle.

“The play. House is open, would you care to find our seats?” His palm is still pressed against your back and you can barely form coherent thoughts. You still don’t even know what play you’re here to see. You just want—no, need—to be near him.

“Um, yeah,” you respond, still trying to get your bearings and remind yourself how to be a person. You let him lead you into the theater, and only once you're in your seats do you realize that neither of you grabbed a program. You pull out your phone to see if you can look it up, but service in the Rosewood is notoriously bad. Instead you just need to sit still next to Astarion, who looks like a dream and smells even better. 

He glances at you as your heart quickens again and his lips curl into a smile. He slips his hand behind your neck and lightly runs his finger along the seam between the golden collar of the dress and your flesh, sending goosebumps down your arms. He leans toward you until his lips are almost brushing your ear. 

“You look absolutely ravishing, my dear,” he whispers, his breath tickling your earlobe. You turn your face toward him on instinct, your chest heaving as you try to steady your breathing. Your lips hover inches apart, anticipating the kiss, when suddenly a throng of noisy actors come barreling down the aisles. You snap away from Astarion as the cacophony of their shrieks of laughter, calls across the audience to one another, and drunken banter fill the house.

One of them clambors onto the stage and shouts, “For God’s sake, a pot of small ale!” He’s dressed in rags and appears by far to be the drunkest of them all. Three servingmen swarm him with various shouts of, “Will’t please your honor?” He shoves them all away and proudly takes up space center stage.

“I am Christophero Sly! Call not me ‘Honor’ nor ‘Lordship,’” he bellows as the rest of the players make their way onto the stage.

Christopher Sly… you’re wracking your brain to remember which play he serves as a framing device for. Most productions cut this scene because it’s long and completely irrelevant. You just can’t for the life of you remember which play he appears in.

The scene continues with their drunken antics and slapstick comedy as the players address Sly as “my noble lord,” making him believe he’s a king that they’re about to perform for. Eventually they carry Sly out on a makeshift palanquin as the “play within the play” begins. Two handsome young men in preppy clothes enter, holding a book and wearing glasses that aren’t too dissimilar from Astarion’s round metal ones. The one without the glasses speaks first.

“Tranio, since for the great desire I had to see fair Padua…”

Tranio? Isn’t he one of the characters in Taming of the Shrew?

He knows you don’t like this play.

Well, if it’s all that’s playing at the Rosewood right now…

But if that’s the case why not just, like, see a movie?

You shift uncomfortably in your dress and cast your gaze towards Astarion. He smiles, taking your fingers and placing a gentle kiss on your knuckles before turning back to the stage. He keeps your hand in his, absentmindedly stroking the back of your hand with his thumb. 

You can feel your heart pounding in your ears and you find yourself wondering what’s running through his head. Just when you think you have him figured out, he does something to surprise you. And honestly, not always in a good way.

Maybe it won’t be so bad. You know the creative team at the Rosewood wouldn’t pick this show if they weren’t going to try to do something with it. 

But even still… is this text even redeemable?

You sit through the entirety of the show cringing as the audience around you laughs at flagrant displays of domestic abuse. The actors, several of whom you’ve worked with before, are trying their hardest to make the lines playful, but some things just can’t be recovered. Between the forced starvation, physical intimidation, and gaslighting, you wonder why companies even bother performing this play anymore. No matter how witty the writing is, it’s just too out of date to be a good season choice.

When the time comes for Kate’s final monologue, you watch in pain as the actress tries to wink-wink-nudge-nudge her way through lines like “place your hands below your husband’s foot.” She’s young, and you wonder if this is one of her first professional gigs. You get a little sad knowing that she’s probably just desperate to do anything, even if it’s trash.

Maybe you’re being a little harsh. All of the individual elements of the show—the acting, set, costumes, direction, lighting—were quite good. You just can’t get over how irredeemable this text is. Worth teaching, yes, and maybe even taking Act II out of context just for the fun banter and clever wordplay. But professional theatre companies should really just retire this one.

In the Lyft back to your apartment, you decide to get Astarion’s take on the matter.

“Do you think it’s possible to redeem a text like Taming in a modern age?”

He pauses for a moment, continuing to look away from you and out the window.

“I do, yes,” he finally answers. “I think it takes a skilled hand, but it can be successful when done well.”

You sit on his response, chewing it over. You decide to take a different route.

“I guess a better question is do you think it’s worth trying to? Like, what are we getting out of it anymore?”

“Is entertainment not enough?” he says with a laugh. You wrinkle your nose at him.

“Sure, if you’re a basic ass bitch. But I want my art to mean something. And I can’t think of what this play can possibly mean if it’s not ‘shrill women are annoying and should learn their place.’” You cross and uncross your legs, trying to keep yourself decent.

“Last I checked, you enjoy being put in your place,” he says in a low hum and your pussy betrays you with a clench. 

“Shut up,” you grumble, and you’re grateful that the dark car hides your reddening cheeks. “It’s different.”

“Is it, though? Ultimately it is a text about two dysfunctional people finding comfort in one another.” His sincerity catches you off guard, and almost makes you angry that he’s been taken in by the propaganda.

“That’s only a valid interpretation if you ignore half of what happens in the play. They’re not equally dysfunctional, Kate literally gets beaten into submission and pretends to be happy about it. Petruchio is exactly the same from the start to the finish, he has no fucking character arc.” Your hands start to shake as you try to keep your cool. You’ve had this conversation far too many times with men who think they can interpret out the sexism by simply glossing over Kate’s abuse.

The Lyft stops in front of your building and you thank the driver as you get out. Astarion follows you, and you’re not even sure if you want him to accompany you upstairs. But you remain silent as you walk past Withers and into the elevator.

“You’re overreacting,” Astarion says once the elevator doors close. “People are drawn to this play for a reason. The text is excellent, and no one truly thinks of Petruchio as an abuser.”

“Are you joking?” Your voice gets shrill and the similarity to Kate isn’t lost on you. “The whole thing normalizes his abuse. The fact that people don’t think of him as an abuser is the problem.”

“It’s a slapstick comedy,” he snaps, his voice growing stern. “Are you going to tell me that we need to cancel the Three Stooges because it promotes violence?”

“Don’t be fucking condescending,” you spit. “It’s not the same and you know it.”

“How is it not the same? Suddenly because it’s a woman in the role it no longer counts? Are you implying that women should be barred from certain types of performance because of their gender?” He walks past you into your apartment and you throw your keys and bag on the counter, not even bothering to see where they land.

“No, that’s not what I’m saying, now you’re just twisting my words,” you grumble, more frustrated than ever by your inability to match his eloquence.

“So use your own words,” he sneers, whirling around to face you. “How is it not the same?”

“It’s because- well, I- It’s different, just- argh!” Your head is clouded by your attraction to him, which has annoyingly only grown over the past few minutes of shouting. You’re suddenly reminded of the smug arrogant bastard that you first met. He lets out a jeering laugh.

“See? You can’t even defend your own point.” 

His sardonic cruelty sets something off in you and you angrily grab the lapel of his green suit. Your intentions are a complete mystery even to you, because as soon as you’re within inches of one another, instincts take over. You crush his lips into yours and pull him backwards until you thump against the door behind you. He paws hungrily at the dress, sliding his hand under the slit and around to grab your bare ass. You gasp into his touch, feeling equally frustrated and aroused that he even controlled what you wore tonight.

Your fingers make their way into his hair and you pull hard, breaking the kiss and leaving his mouth open, panting. His eyes are sparkling with a fire that you haven’t seen yet and a low growl manifests in your throat. He smirks and buries his teeth into your shoulder, something he usually asks bespoke permission for. You cry out in response, twisting your hands tighter into his silvery locks.

He unlatches from your shoulder and pushes his knee past the front of your skirt and up onto your bare cunt. You grind wantonly against the velvet as he kisses you with bloody lips. He grabs hold of the delicate chains of the dress and yanks, detaching them from the collar and making the entire bodice crumple and pool around your waist. Your nipples immediately harden at the sudden exposure to cold air and he pinches one sharply between his fingers. Your hips roll into his leg as you groan, fully ruining his pants. He continues to bite around your neck and shoulders, placing little puncture wounds in his path, marking you as his.

You grab onto his tie and push him away so you can shimmy out of the rest of the dress. You’re now down to just the gold collar of the dress and your heels, a look you wish you could hate but don’t. You pull him across your living area and toward your bedroom, shoving him down onto the edge of the bed. 

“Thou hast hit it, come, sit on me,” he says, quoting Petruchio with a sinister grin. Kate’s retort falls out of your mouth reflexively.

“Asses are made to bear, and so are you,” you hiss as you straddle his hips, wrapping his tie around your hand until you’ve gripped it up to the knot. Your other hand violently unbuckles his belt, yanking it through the loops with a snap.

“Women are made to bear, and so are you,” he says with a caustic laugh, digging his nails into your ass cheeks. You tug sharply on his tie, bringing his lips close to yours.

“No such jade as you, if me you mean,” you snarl and silence him with an angry kiss. You don’t want to encourage his idiotic behavior, but you’d be lying to yourself if you said this wasn’t a fantasy you’ve had before. You fumble with the buttons of his suit jacket, trying to get him undressed as quickly as possible. You’re not sure if you feel more vulnerable or more powerful being undressed while he’s still fully clothed, but either way you want him naked, now. You get about three buttons into his shirt before you grow impatient, ripping it the rest of the way open and sending buttons flying. 

Good. Let him need to repair his clothes for once.

You push him flat onto his back and descend onto his chest, alternating kisses, licks, and bites. Your dull human teeth don’t have nearly the same effect as his fangs, but it just means you get to bite twice as hard in order to leave a mark. He writhes beneath your touch, and you feel a twisted satisfaction at the quiet little grunts and gasps you’re finally pulling from him. He’s rarely this vocal during sex, and it’s only serving to spur you on more.

His groans build until you capture his nipple in your teeth and bite down, causing him to shout and buck his hips up into you. In a flash he flips you around onto your back and he bears down on you, eyes dangerous. 

“Little love, do you think you’re in control?” he asks in a low growl, his hand gripped around your jaw. You sneer and slide your leg against the strained bulge in his pants. He hisses and your smile widens.

“Right now? Yes,” you coo, continuing to press your calf against his velvet-covered cock. You grab the tie still hanging around his neck and pull him close. 

“If you want it back, fucking take it.”

If I put my hands around your wrists, would you fight them?

He kisses you roughly, catching your bottom lip in his teeth biting hard enough to puncture the skin. He pulls back slightly, a drop of your blood running down his chin and a snide grin. He makes like he’s about to kiss you again but shoves your face away before your lips make contact.

This is the worst you’ve ever seen him—the most arrogant, the most condescending, borderline cruel even. And you have never been more turned on.

If I put my fingers in your mouth, would you bite them?

“Is that all you’ve got?” you taunt, licking the blood from your lips. “Go ahead, choke me, daddy.”

The feminist in you is horrified, but the little gremlin controlling your libido is having the time of its life. It squeals with delight when his hand closes around your throat, just barely constricting your breathing. 

“You insolent little brat,” he breathes into your ear, pulling up on your jaw. “I will absolutely ruin you.”

And there will be no tenderness, no tenderness.

“Do it, coward,” you spit, and he lets go just long enough to finish undressing from the waist down. He grabs your still heeled ankle and presses your leg up by your shoulder, stretching you wide enough to take him without any prep. You gasp as he fills you, the stinging pain outweighed by the gratification of finally feeling him inside you.

The only thing that I ask, love me mercilessly.

He sets a punishing rhythm, one knee on the bed and the other foot still firmly planted on the floor. He bottoms out with each long thrust and you grab hold of his hair to brace yourself. He winces with the pain but doesn’t slow down, and your moans grow high and loud as he continues to furiously pound into you. 

“Gods, fuck, Astarion,” you keen, your desire coiling in your belly and threatening to explode. “Keep going, daddy, fuck me please.” He grunts with the effort and your dirty talk seems to be having an effect as his pace falters. You jerk your hips up into him, chasing your orgasm, until finally it barrels through you like a runaway train. You pull on his hair as you come and that sets off his, his pulsing cock pressing against the clenching walls of your cunt. 

He stays deep inside you as the aftershocks reverberate through both of you, until the only sound remaining is your heavy panting. He drops his forehead to touch yours, a pleasantly tender moment after some of the roughest sex you can recall having. He starts to giggle and you follow suit, suddenly giddy. He pulls out of you with a squelch and walks to the bathroom to get a towel to clean up the mess you’ve left behind. He wipes you down gently, a surprising bit of aftercare you’re not accustomed to with him. He plants a tender kiss on your lips and you feel dizzy with affection for him.

You settle up against the headboard of your bed, his arm around you and both of you looking at your phones in a companionable silence. After a moment, he lets out a small chuckle. 

“What?” you ask, turning your head towards him quizzically.

“I’m just shocked that worked, is all,” he laughs, shaking his head. Your confusion grows and you furrow your brow.

“What worked?” you laugh with him, but something doesn’t feel right.

“The whole night, taking you to see Taming, getting into just enough of a fight to result in,” he vaguely waves his hand, gesturing to the edge of the bed, “all of that.”

“Wait, what? What do you mean?” You pull away from him and your stomach drops. Surely he can’t be suggesting what you think he’s suggesting.

“You get riled up so easily, I thought this might be fun.” He still doesn’t seem to have picked up on your heart pounding in your ears, which is frankly unusual for him.

“Are you saying… Wait, are you saying that you planned that fight? So, what, we’d have angry sex?”

“Of course, you don’t think I actually believe anything that I said, do you? Taming of the Shrew might be well-written, but it’s a rubbish play to produce.” He finally turns to you and sees that you’ve gone white as a sheet. “Oh, darling, don’t take it like that, you’re positively adorable when you’re angry, I couldn’t resist.” He tries putting his hand to your cheek but you flinch away like he’s burned you.

“Get out,” you say in a low voice, unable to even look at him.

“What?” He’s still laughing. He doesn’t get it. “My sweet, didn’t you-”

“GET. OUT.” Your voice has a venom in it that even shocks you. He stares at you in horror until you shoot him an icy glare. “Now.”

Without a word he stands and quickly puts his clothes back on. You stay in your bed, naked and curled under a sheet, until you hear the front door of your apartment slam. With shaking hands, you call Shadowheart.

“Moonmaiden’s delight, did you enjoy yourself? It certainly sounded like you did.” The sound of Shadowheart’s bubbly laugh usually makes you smile, but right now it seeps into your skin like poison.

“Shade, please come over,” you whimper, and the second the words leave your mouth, the tears begin to fall. You don’t hear her hang up, but you do hear a muffled, “I’m going to fucking kill him!” through the wall. You pull your knees further into your chest and sob.

[disgustingtwitches]

"Brown skin, pretty brown eyes"

1.6k words

Gaz x Brown Reader (´⌣`ʃƪ) just makes me swing my feet in the air thinking about it

[Unprotected sex, creampie, praise, afab reader]

MDNI

You'd see him sporadically. He'd show up for a while; then he'd disappear for weeks or even months. Then he'd come back, sit at the same spot, and order the same thing,

"Just the usual with white wine please."

He kind of had a boujee energy, but when he'd hand you the menu and say:

"Thank you, darling."

He'd smile at you in a way that said, I'll bend you over the table right now if you ask nicely.

"Of course, love."

You'd smile back in a way that screamed, Please, please, please do it.

You'd wonder who'd make the first move. Christ, it's been nothing but pussyfooting for about two years now. Pretty boy like him probably wanted you to beg for his number. You almost caved at the beginning, but now it's a stupid competition. Your pride versus his ego.

One day he came in with a friend; some fidgety, chatty, Scottish thing. Shook the whole table when he bounced his leg. Smiled so brightly it was like staring into the sun. They jabbered the whole time they picked at their lunch. Occasionally, the Scotsman would look back at you with a goofy grin before turning back to his plate. As soon as you set the cheque down, they both reached for it. His friend was faster though, laughing and paying for the both of them. You rang him up and brought back his card.

"Thank you for coming, always a pleasure to see you."

You avoided eye contact in fear of melting into a puddle infront of him and his friend.

"Same to you."

He nodded. His friend oohed as you walked away, that earned him a shush and punch on the arm.

"Lovely place ye got here, take care!"

The mohawked man waved as he was ushered (shoved) out the door, pretty boy looked back and flashed that smile that made your knees buckle. You cleared the table and looked at the receipt. It was hard to make out, but it read:

Such a honour to finally meet the missus,

(020) 7946 0801

For the next few days while you were getting ready, you'd look at the paper taped up to corner of your mirror. Everyday pretty boy would come in with the same song and dance; same order, same coy looks, same touch when he passed back the menu. Friday rolled around and you were sitting home, mindlessly watching some dramedy about medical malpractice and nursing a bottle of rosé. Fuck it, you said to yourself while picking up the phone. Brrr brrr...brrr brrr...brr-

"Hello?"

There was that deliciously familiar voice. Your stomach did flips.

"Yes, hello... It's uh-"

"The waitress from Hawksmoor."

There's a moment of silence, like you both can't believe this is happening.

"I got your number from your friend, he left it on his receipt."

"Yeah, of course he did..."

You heard some hushed gibberish. You think this is a mistake.

"I'm sorry if I-"

"No, no! I'm just -shutthefuckup- I'm just watching the game with a friend right now."

You can hear a recognizable Scottish accent coming through the speaker of your phone.

"I never caught your name."

Unlike his friend, pretty boy always left cash. So you couldn't creep and read the name on the card like you did with, what was it? MacTavish?

"Kyle. Kyle Garrick."

You repeated the name, giving it a swirl around your mouth like a wine, testing the mouthfeel. Thinking about how moanable it is. Wondering if you should take his last name or hyphenate the both of yours. There's some muffled conversation from the other end, his voice came back on the line, snapping you out of your daydream.

"Would you like to go out for drinks tomorrow?"

Your heart raced.

"Yeah tomorrow's perfect."

He wished you a goodnight and it was like you were hearing the words for the first time, sounded like a song. Then you heard the word parroted in a brash Glaswegian accent in the background. Click.

~

The date started off a little awkward, two years of nothing more than a few rehearsed lines made it hard to think of other things to say. Well... you could share what's been on both your minds this whole time, but you have to work up to those kinds of things. You learn that he's in the military, just turned thirty, currently lives in Soho. Sun and moon in Leo. Likes wine. Watches romcoms even though the corny jokes makes him cringe. Likes to travel. He'd ask a lot of questions about you too; lean in and smirk whenever you'd go on a little rant about yourself. As the evening went on, the place started getting busy and it got louder and louder until you were talking directly in each other's ears. He was wearing something that smelled divine. And expensive. Sweet vanilla, with a touch of leather and cedar. You could just lick it off his neck right now if he'd let you.

"It's getting loud here, should we go somewhere quieter?"

His breath warm on your neck, hand resting lightly on your knee. You were at his place as soon as you brought up the idea. He conveniently picked a bar less than a minute away from his flat. It was warm, cozy, lived in. Knickknacks on shelves, books on the coffee table, the comforting scent of his cologne filled the room; this was his sanctuary.

"Your choice, love."

He looked at you while you both sat on the opposite end of the huge couch. You landed on Roman Holiday, it was just something nice to put on in the background. You barely paid attention to the movie while you and him slowly got closer, scooting more and more until you were touching knees. One hand slipped into another. One head leaned on the other. One arm wrapped around a shoulder. One pair of lips softly meets the other. One shirt slipped onto the floor, then one more joins it. Pants followed. His touch was so gentle when sliding off your panties. His eyes went wide and staring at your glistening folds,

"Got myself something real pretty, hm?"

He dove into your heat with pent up passion. Moaned while his mouth was sealed around your nub, the vibrations sending chills up your thighs. It felt so good, you rolled your eyes back,

"Eyes on me, love."

He looked up at you with those big warm eyes. He straightened up with your legs still on his shoulders, pushing your hips up to his face. He took long, show licks from your entrance to your clit, sucking softly and quickly, repeating the movement until you squirmed and begged to get fucked. He flashes his perfect teeth at you while he leaned over, giving you a wet kiss letting you taste yourself. He pulls down his boxers, his dick was just as pretty as the rest of him; thick, veiny, precum glossy on a tip that is a lighter shade than the rest of him, he even had a cute little beauty mark on his shaft. With one leg over his shoulder, he lined himself up. Eased himself into you, hips stuttering when you took him to the base.

"Good fucking girl."

He'd coo while taking long, slow strokes. Teasingly slow. You begged for him to go faster. His dick jumps inside you when he hears that.

"Mhm, just use your words love."

He leaned back, placing his hands on your soft mound, using his thumbs to expose your clit. Soft groans escaped him while watching your reactions to him brushing over it. Looking down at himself sliding in and out of you he'd say,

"That's my pretty brown girl, yeah?"

Grips your hips and starts pounding into you. While you whimpered whenever he'd kiss his tip to your cervix, he praises how perfect your nipples looked firm and bouncing from each stroke.

"Fucking perfect... Unbelievable..."

He'd paw and knead your chest, leaning forward and pressing desperate kisses all over your face.

"Look down,"

He pants, pushing the back of your head forward so you're watching him fuck you, foreheads touching.

"See how nice we look together, yeah?"

He'd go on to make you cum so many times you'd lose track of how many orgasms you had. One after another, over and over until you saw stars.

"Just one more, I promise. You got one more in you, right darling?"

He'd slow down, seemingly talking to your sopping wet cunt,

"Can I please finish here? Right here feels so good."

Cum drunk and senseless, you beg to feel him finish inside you. He wraps you up in his strong arms tightly, his lips pressed up right up on your neck, right under your ear.

"Little piece of heaven you are. My fucking little brown angel, yeah? My perfect fuckin-"

He'd bury his face into the couch while moaning, pumping deep inside you. Once his dick stops twitching, he covers you in kisses, singing praises between them.

"Took me so well...such a good girl...made me so proud."

He wipes you down with a warm towel before carrying you to bed. Fucked out, you're already sleeping before he slides in bed next to you. The next morning, you wake up to light kisses and bites trailing down your chest and stomach, stopping right above your nub. Those adoring brown eyes looking up at yours while sticking his tongue out and flicking it against you. He wraps his arms around your thighs, sinking fingers into the soft flesh.

"Made just for me, no one else... Only for me... Gorgeous, gorgeous girl..."

He'd say between licks. Thank God you had today off.

[justmochi]

unbreakable love

pairing :: eden x seokmin

word count :: 1.6k

synopsis :: eden meets up with seokmin in paris

time :: november 15, 2023

taglist :: @cafemilk-tea @cixrosie @moonlight-additions @cosmicwintr @astraw-astro @ateezjuliet @fromfreesia @succulentmom @kimhyejin3108 @enhacolor @multiplums @alixnsuperstxr @meginthebuilding27 @kang-ulzzang @hybesunstone @allthings-fandoms @itzy-eve @choihaneul @strmiu @angie-x3 @Kaitieskidmore1 @evaalopezzzz

November 15, 2023.

She’s seen the Eiffel Tower plenty of times, but she will never get over how breathtaking the sight is. It’s the one thing that Eden has been looking forward to ever since Seokmin arrived.

Evelyn managed to convince Eden to take a trip for herself. It’ll probably be her last chance for a while since she vowed to help her sister when the baby arrived.

Paris and everything in it was a healing experience for her. It was always one of her favorite places to visit. She saw the opportunity and took it when she discovered Seokmin and his group would be there for a few days for an event. He was all for the idea and even if he wasn’t, she didn’t give him much room to argue. She was already on a flight two days before and waiting for him.

It was her first time being in Paris for just herself. Her and the girls usually came for work but other than that, there were no spontaneous visits.

Eden checked the time. It was a few minutes away from the Eiffel Tower to start sparkling like it does every hour. She leaned against the cement railing, switching her weight from one foot to the other as she waited.

“Hey there, beautiful.” She heard a voice right next to her ear that made her jump and shiver.

Seokmin wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her against him.

“Hey, Handsome.” She giggled, placing her hands on top of his.

He leans forward to kiss her cheek and she smiles. It was only this morning that they last saw each other, but they missed each other already.

Eden turns in his arms, facing him and reaching up to wrap her arms around his neck. He tips his head down to kiss her lips. The moan she lets out against his lips is quiet. When they finally pull away, she starts smacking her lips together.

“You taste nice.” She looks up into his eyes.

“Wine. There’s been so much wine today.”

“It’s good, right?”

“It’s very good.” He breaks their gaze to look behind her. His eyes start widening.

“Hmm?” Eden turns her head to look back and sees the Eiffel Tower sparkling.

“Wow.”

“It’s beautiful.” Eden smiles. She breaks free of his hold and grabs his hand. “Come on, I have some things to show you before it goes off again.”

“Lead the way, E.” He smirks, squeezing onto her hand and following alongside her.

They stop at a cart where she buys both of them chocolate filled churros. They sit on a bench near the river and get comfortable. His reaction is priceless as he takes his first bite. She wipes his mouth of the chocolate and sugar as they savor it. Once they’ve finished it all, they wipe their mouths and dust their hands off.

“Here,” She takes the remains from him before getting up and throwing them in the nearest trash can. She walks back, pulling her coat together when she feels a slight breeze. “Brr.”

“Cold?” Once Eden sits next to him, Seokmin wraps his arm around her, squeezing her to him and rubbing up and down to try to warm her up.

“I’ll manage.” She smiles, leaning her head on his shoulder as they watch waves on the river and boats row by. “It’s pretty, isn’t it?”

“It’s very pretty, but not as–“

“Don’t say it.” She cuts him off, removing her head and trying to look threatening and she looks anything but.

“Say what?”

“You know.”

“What? That the view isn’t as pretty as you?”

Eden turns her head, wanting to bite her fist from the way he makes her blush.

“You know I’m right.” He rests his hand on her thigh, giving it a squeeze.

She rolls her eyes, pulling her bag to her lap and digging through it. She hands him a marker and he watches her as she continues to go through it.

“What’s that?”

Eden pulls out a box, angling it towards him. It’s a padlock. She smiles while looking at it. “It’s a love lock.”

She starts to open up the packaging. “On the bridge over there, couples would attach a padlock to the railing with different things written on it and throw the keys in the river. It symbolizes unbreakable love.

“Growing up, I’ve always wanted to find someone to do this with. Right here in Paris. And now I can.” She runs her thumb over the top of the pink padlock, looking up at him. He smiles and she can see his eyes start to twinkle. “But I found out a couple days ago that all the locks that were once there were removed because of the excessive weight in the bridge. It’s illegal now. And as much as I want to be able to tell our kids how our love got us arrested in the most romantic city–it would be an amazing story–we’re gonna have to settle for the next best thing.”

“And what’s that?” He cups her cheek with a smirk.

“We throw the lock in the river, along with the key. I don’t plan on ever fishing it out.” Eden grabs the marker from him, writing the date and her first initial on it. She hands it to him and he writes a D.

“Neither do I.” He puts the cap back on the marker, letting the writing dry as he turns on his camera. “You’re the only one who is ever gonna have my heart.”

She gives him a peck on the cheek. “Good.”

He snaps a picture of the padlock in his hand, inviting her to hold it as well. He takes a few of the river and the bridge, the Eiffel Tower standing perfectly behind everything.

Eden stands to her feet, holding out her hand. “Ready?”

He grabs her hand as she leads the way to the bridge. There are still plenty of locks attached to the railing but the last thing both of them need is to be charged with vandalism. They get to the middle of the bridge before stopping.

“We do this and we will be just in time for the tower to start sparkling again.” They both take a minute to look at the remaining locks. There’s many and they both find it so endearing to know that there are other people out in the world that have an unbreakable, everlasting love just like them.

Eden holds the lock in place as Seokmin turns the key. As soon as they’re sure it won’t budge, they both look up at each other with smiles on their faces. They hang their arms over the railing, dropping the padlock and leaning over just a bit to see it splash and disappear. Her heart starts to ache as they toss the key next.

It feels a little overwhelming to part with something so symbolic of their love for each other, but knowing the real meaning behind it numbs that void.

Eden is still leaning over, watching the waves of the river until Seokmin pulls her back by her shoulders. She soon turns her attention back to him, gazing into his eyes.

“I love you.” He holds her cheeks in both of his hands, looking into her eyes and getting lost in them.

She leans in to kiss him, wrapping her fingers around his wrists as they are both overcome with a warm, cozy feeling inside their chests. He no longer tastes like the wine he had before meeting her. It is now replaced with chocolatey sweetness.

She pulls away, dropping her arms and wrapping them around his waist. “I love you more.” She knows she’s in for it but doesn’t give him the chance to argue before she’s leading him to the Eiffel Tower.

Once they’re off the bridge, the tower is right in front of them and they have to stretch their heads back to look at the top.

“It’s breathtaking.” Eden mumbles to herself, flexing her fingers in his hand as they walk around.

She sees the flash of his camera before the shutter and he’s just taken a photo of holding her hand with the Eiffel Tower in the back.

“Sorry, couldn’t help myself.” The sly grin on his face tells her he’s not sorry.

She pulls her phone out of her coat pocket to check the time. Three minutes.

To get him back, she lets go of his hand and pulls her own camera out of her bag. She takes a few steps back and begins to take pictures of him like he’s a model. He’s serious until she cracks a joke and he smiles with his teeth. Her favorite.

She hears the people around them in awe. When she looks up from her lens, she can see the Eiffel Tower sparkling again. In this moment, she takes the perfect shot of him looking back at the tower and it’s sparkling behind him.

Not wanting to waste this moment, she shuts her camera off and comes up behind him, rubbing her palm against his back in circles. He looks down at her, lifting his arm and wrapping it around her, pulling her close to his chest where she belongs. Eden hugs his waist with a smile on her face as they both watch the structure dazzle.

Seokmin kisses the top of her head, rubbing his hand back and forth on her shoulder. She tucks the hair behind her ear that escaped from the wind before looking up at him.

“I love you.” She smiles and he meets her gaze. She looks at his eyes until they drop to his lips. He helps her out due to his height, leaning down to kiss her. It’s soft and long lasting.

When they’re ready to part, he whispers against her lips. “I love you.”

[theleetoalerandalertoalee]

Here’s the fic for October 3rd ^^

Razor x Bennett

I hope you all enjoy<3

Day 3 - Cuddles

It rarely snowed in Mondstadt, unless someone wanted to include the Cryo Regisvine and Dragonspine as tourist attractions. Nonetheless, there are days when the wind can be nippy and the ground grumpy and brittle. Some Mondstadters say it means Barbatos is warning them that the crops must be rotated. After all, planting grapes for wine over and over will ruin the land. Alas, on the days that are this abrasive, the boars are easier to catch. Everything is less nomadic in the cold.

“Brr…it sure is a bit chilly…huh, Razor?”

The wolf boy nods, “yes. Today is cold. Cold give more meat.”

“Why is that?”

“People cold stay inside. Animals cold huddle together.”

“So…more boars will be huddled in groups rather than scattered around in a field?”

“Yes.”

“Hehe, nice! Where do we look first?”

“I lead, you follow.”

“Alrighty!”

Razor continues down the trail as his friend follows.

“Bennett,” Razor says, “you seem cold.”

Bennett smiles dismissively, “well, it’s a bit windy and stuff, but don’t you worry.”

“No, teacher says we can catch a…cold.”

“Oh, yeah, I guess if you get too cold, yeah you can get sick.”

“I have an idea to help.”

“Oh? Whatcha got in mind?”

Razor takes Bennett’s hand and leads him to the ring where Boreas resides. Instead of going into the arena, the wolf boy leads the adventurer to the large fallen tree trunk off to the side of it.

“Here,” says Razor, “lupical rests.”

“Wow…it’s very spacious!”

“The tree blocks the wind- cold wind- and rain. It helps keep warm.”

“Hehe, that’s cool.”

Razor sits down on the ground, patting the spot next to him for Bennett to join him. Bennett sits beside Razor and the wolf boy nuzzles into Bennett’s chest, trying to use the friction and body heat to keep his friend warm.

Bennett giggles, putting his hands on Razor’s shoulder, “hey- hehe- Razor! That tickles!”

“Snuggle gives warmth, no tickles, Bennett.”

Bennett falls back, laying down on the ground as Razor continues to snuggle his head into the adventurer’s chest.

Razor wasn’t wrong though…to a point. It did help keep Bennett warm, but the feeling of Razor’s coarse hair on his clavicle had the dexterity of a claw with the flexibility of a feather.

Razor stops for a moment, “lupical does this to stay warm. Is it working?”

Bennett nods, “well…yes…I do feel less cold, actually…”

“Is it time to continue the hunt?”

“Well- I mean…I am quite comfortable, uh- aren’t you?”

Razor tilts his head, “mm…yes.”

“So…can we just y’know stay until it warms up, then?”

“Hm? Does that mean you are still catching a cold?”

“No, it’s just I wouldn’t mind staying here for a bit longer- hahahaha!”

Razor starts snuggling Bennett again, “lupical is stronger than the cold!”

Even if it meant the hunt would wait, Razor wanted to make sure his friend was safe and healthy. After all, lupical is family.

[oatflatwhite]

by popular (@judesstfrancis) demand!

part 1 / part 2

[a-thirst-for-dunmer]

My favorite things about all my Skyrim followers:

KAIDAN

-wicked ass armor and weapon with fucking tigers on it

-realistic cursing in life or death situations

-literally the most realistic male dialogue ever with his corny ass innuendos. ‘This monument, does it remind you of me, love? Just kidding.’

-so goated in battle. Mans can kill a dragon so easy and i don’t need to do anything but look pretty

-ACCENT.

CARYALIND

-his hair is so fluffy. I bet it smells like roses and vanilla bean, what’s your secret bb

-such a sweetheart all the time. No wonder he can’t be Thalmor, he has too much heart for it

-fucking backstory. It’s very Zuko without villain redemption arc, and the fact that he still worries about the LDB thinking worse of him for being Thalmor royalty is just *chef’s kiss*

-ACE REP. I really fucking love how he can dress like a hoe, flirt like a hoe, and look so hot but have no interest in sex. Mmm that’s my jam that’s what I like.

-boob window

-Kaidan interactions! Proving that Altmer can be kind and sweet and not lighting-shooting British assholes

INIGO

-the backstories for everyone are so damn tearjerking but this guy?? Don’t even get me started on this mans scars I will cry

-literally autism. Says everything on his mind. Sir you are me

-blue. And a cat. What else??

-Lucien and him have a bromance that hits so good

-suplexes Nazeem with only his vibes

-sings original songs, where’s his soundcloud

KHASH

-okay first off i was writing a character just like her for the daughter of my LDB and Revyn. Never knew about her but this is Leeta come to life and i crave it

-pottymouth

-Kaidan Big Bro protection dialogue

-so happy when she kills things

-literally exactly what I expected a baby Argonian to sound like. So cute. So grumpy

-her outfit is just on point. If i hadn’t transitioned i would be cottagecore peasant dress woman with cats

LUCIEN

-like Cary, he is just sweet himbo no brain

-kid in a candy shop vibes. He is amazed by the wonders of this world

-the nerdiest mans you know, would probably never shut up about shit with Auryen but i haven’t gotten that far yet

-bottom energy

-AUTISM once again

-also sings!! Can sing ‘Toss a Coin to Your Witcher’ parody!!

AURI

-she is the Moment

-eats people and only meat. Wanna see someone react to ThatVeganTeacher with her as a vtuber model oml

-bullies Lucien (affectionately)

-cool pod

-looks like she could kill you and could actually kill you

-slams ALL haters and unworthy into the ground with her dialogue. Faendal ily but you don’t deserve her

RUMARIN

-a sweetheart himbo

-very Skilled with magic, specifically bound weapons. As someone who uses conjuration as their main line of magic, because dremora and bound bow go brr, I LOVE THAT

-not really good at speaking poorly of anyone tbh

-like lucien, he’s optimistic and fun to be around

-very…earthy. Jank. Grungy. Not what you’d expect from an Altmer, to be living as an adventurer mercenary, and i like that for him

-eats in bed, brain too empty to clean for long periods of time

-polyamorous pansexual King

-says Z like zed, which makes linguistics in Skyrim lore interesting

NEBARRA

-literally me

-sarcasm to the max

-name means ‘foreigner’ or ‘scorned’ or something transgender. anyway, king nihilist shit

-only wants the good wines

-also, the Accent, very good very sass

-Shakespearean insults for days

-also regular insults

-just…insults

-mystery and striking fear into the hearts of all

TALIESIN

-i thought no one could top Revyn in vibes of what Elder Scrolls character i would kin but then ✨he✨ came along

-no idea why Altmer are Brits but with him, i can vibe with it he sounds so good

-giggles evilly in fights

-s a s s

-pansexual!! We are putting queer in the game! (Even tho all vanilla spouses are, in the most Basic sense, bisexuals)

-the spice he can add with Cary as a protector/snarky best friend. I Need their backstory

-afraid of dogs, cat person

-just an absolute bitch to the Dragonborn but like in a way my gay friends are to me

-eyeliner on fleek

HONORABLE MENTIONS FOR SKEEVER AND CROC

-silly voice go brrr

[2nd-sad-sister]

Small fic written in a Cyberpunk 2077 au I have that included HSR and Fire Emblem characters. I don't usually write things like this and I don't rp things like this, but Hanya's suffering go brr

⚠️tw: child death and vivisection mentioned, drug use⚠️

Word count: 2,213

Characters: Hanya, Charlotte FE (FE knowledge not necessary)

Notes: Cyberpunk 2077 knowledge is also not necessary

Summary: Hanya has to witness horrors that shake even her at work, but it is her duty to pass judgment. What she has to do to cope with it is her problem.

The BD stopped on it's own, and Hanya was thankful. Her hands were shaking like the newbies she saw. She thought she had seen it all, was used to it all, but she was wrong. The weeks of carnage and torture she had seen, had felt like she had been doing herself was truly wretched. It was to the point her eyes had become unseeing as she sat there, the arest of the criminal playing her her head as though it was her, but she didn't notice. All she could see were the tortured bodies, the blood stained hands that had looked to be her own.

The vivisection of children was not new to her. It was extremely rare, but in her long life she had suffered a case or two, especially since they handed some of the worst criminals the world had ever seen to her. The thing with this case was the perpetrator had done it to more kids than she had seen before combined, but that wasn't what sent her over the edge. What sent her over the edge is the last one had looked like sister. The light blue hair, the pinkish wine red eyes, it was all the same. She was going to be sick.

Hanya let her fingers tap out the report by themselves, listing the crimes committed for all to see. She did her best to shove the images out of her head, but all she saw was the girl who looked like sister. The tears on her face as she screamed in pain. The blood soaking her white dress.

White was the color of death. Why did they dress kids in it? It was like they were trying to tempt fate with it.

She knew the west saw it as a sign of purity and innocence, but that is never what she saw. She could only think of the many white shrouds pulled over sister's destroyed puppet bodies.

Why did they give it to the dead as well if it was supposed to signal innocence?

Hanya's hands stopped, and she looked at her screen. She checked over the document to see if she missed anything, she hadn't. She sent it out before she pulled out her brush, ink, and thick paper. They didn't usually make paper like this anymore, but the commission had it specially made for formal decrees, like this one.

Hanya dipped her brush in the ink and skillfully wrote out the official punishment, the brush gliding skillfully over the paper, as though it were dancing. Once it was finished she gently cleaned off her brush before tucking it away. She let the ink dry for the allotted time, her eyes glued to the ancient plastic analog clock on her desk, her mind empty.

Once the hands had preformed their needed number of turns she turned off her computer and rose to her feet. She took the degree and turned it in before she left. Thankfully that had been her last judgment of the day. She didn't know what she would have done if it would have been otherwise because she needed out, **now**

Hanya stumbled out of the building and let her feet guide her where they wished. She trusted that they would carry her to wherever she needed to be at the moment.

Where she needed to be turned out to be the veteran's bar she frequented. She wasn't a veteran herself, but many of the folks there deem that she was one, in her own way.

She was thankful for their welcome. It was a comforting place, and unlike most bars in Night City. It was dim and quiet, quite the welcoming change indeed.

No one panicked when someone broke down and lost their mind. They knew they were lost in their own mind, and knew that they were no threat, at least to anyone there. They could all protect themselves after all, and knew how to handle a fellow vet having an episode. It was not much of a surprise, just an every day occurrence to everyone there. It was refreshing. Plus no one tried to start anything, and if they did they would be subdued swiftly and sent away, never to be seen again.

Hanya's entrances caused many eyes to turn towards her, before they turned away swiftly. They knew her, knew that she wasn't a threat to them. Just another broken person seeking solace in this place.

One pair of eyes lingered however, and waved her over to a booth. It was one near the back, which were always filled by vets trying to have the best sight lines. They were so in demand seeing four groan men packed into them like sardines was not a surprise. The booth being empty except for one woman was more of a surprise, although the fact it was Charlotte made it much less of one. Since she was one of the oldest vets there she was able to get what she wanted. Plus she was friends with the owner, and friends with the owner of the complex below the bar. The second was a strange man, but Hanya knew him well enough.

Hanya slid into the booth that faced the door, since she had no problem putting her back to it, unlike most. "Hello Charlotte. It's a pleasure to see you," she said, her words slower and more robotic than usual. Charlotte pushed over her beer and waved to the bartender to get them more as she pulled out her phone.

"Howdy Hanya, long day," she asked, not bothering to hide her accent. She did that when she was out, trying not to seem lower class. Hanya didn't understand it, but she was used to it.

"Yes. A long tiring day." Her short response caused the blond to type faster.

"Don't worry I'm talkin' to Herny to get what ya need," she assured.

"White, what an awful color. Even if I never see it again it, will be too soon," Hanya muttered to herself, turning her eyes away from the delicate 'going out' dress Charlotte was wearing, prompting the other woman to pull the old military coat closer around herself.

"That bad, huh?"

"Yes." Hanya grabbed the beer and chugged it. Two glasses of clear liquid were set in front of her with a clink, and now words. She threw the first one back before she started to roll the glass around in her hands, focusing on the light that shimmered on the surface.

"Goddamn it Henry. Can you stop having a fight with all your suppliers," Charlotte hissed through her teeth.

That didn't sound good, for Hanya at least. "It's alright. We all know he always has issues. I'll take what he can give me."

"Well, he has your special blend, whatever that is."

"That's good to hear. That's all I really need for now. I don't need any uppers. Sister might, but puppets can't use the drugs most people do, since there is nothing 'ganic about them."

Hanya had heard rumors that they *could* make organic bodies from nothing now, but she knew they wouldn't bother to but Xueyi in one. It was easy to fix an all robotic body after all, especially a robotic body they sent after the most crazed cyber psychos.

"Oh sister, I wonder who you are going after now. Someone easy I hope. I hope to see you soon after all. It's been quite awhile."

Unbidden an image of her sister's real body, dead in her arms came to mind. It was swiftly replace with the mangled corpse of the girl she had seen today.

Hanya froze in her seat, the only hint that something was wrong. Charlotte started mashing more buttons on her phone.

"He's sending sending someone now. Thank God it's not a door opening crow prototype, again," Charlotte sighed as she pulled a tube out of her pocket. She shook the cigar that was in it out. It was already cut so she put it in her mouth before she pulled out a pack of matches and lit it. Hanya just watched, her eyes focusing on the flame before it was quickly shook out.

Her eyes then fell back to the glass in her hands as she listened to her take a puff off her cigar. The pleasant smelling smoke filled her nose, covering the smell of spilled liquor and stale cigarettes. It calmed her and helped ground her back into the present.

The two women just sat there, their silence pleasant and filled by the hum of the bar.

It only took a few minutes for the carrier to arrive. It was a small and nervous mousey woman with purple hair. If she recalled correctly her name was Bernie.

"Henry said it was urgent, so I came as soon as I could. I'm sorry I wasn't faster. Please don't hurt Bernie, I was busy writing, and-"

Charlotte handed over her cigar, with a slightly begrudging look on her face. "Then go back to it," she said as she took the bag from her. "Thanks, by the way."

"Thank you, Bernie." With that the scared woman was off like a shot.

With another sigh Charlotte pulled out another cigar tube as she pushed the plastic bag towards Hanya. She took it and dumped it out on the table and sorted through the small plastic baggies she had been given, not bothering to watch Charlotte light her cigar again.

She ignored the pills and looked at the various small baggies of powder. She looked at the purple chicken scratch writing until she found what she was looking for. 'China white' is was it said, because Henry thought he was funny. It kinda of was the first time, with how his childish brain worked, but Hanya was tired of the color white, even if this white brought salvation.

Hanya took a beautiful wooden box out of her purse. It was a match to the one that held her sacred work brush, which was also tucked safely in her purse, as always. Out of this box she pulled out a small metal tray along with a razor blade. She dumped some of the powder onto the tray and skillfully brushed it into a line with the glimmering blade in a twisted mimicry of her work on the decree she had penned earlier. Yin and yang, just like the symbol on her boxes.

One she was finished she wiped the blade clean before she tucked it away and pulled out a small straw. She quickly snorted up the powder, leaving as little behind as possible. She tucked everything back into the box, including her newly procured baggies, before shutting the box with a gentle click. She tucked it safely back into her purse before leaning back and waiting for one hell to try and relieve her of another.

She looked up at Charlotte who had finally stopped averting her eyes. She wasn't repulsed, Hanya knew that, she was just giving her a moment. She was surprisingly kind like that. She also didn't bother asking if she wanted to talk about what had happened at work, knowing that if it was this bad she should just wait and see if Hanya would talk. Hanya had a habit of answering all the questions she was asked after all, and in slow detail, saying all she deemed necessary to explain.

Hanya, for once, did not feel like speaking. She just took a drink and waited, watching the hands of one of her clock tick in her minds eye. After a few minutes the drug began to kick in. It wasn't her special mix, which was for home, but it felt nice. Much better than work.

Hanya visibly relaxed slowly, well visibly for anyone who knew. She had become a master at controlling herself after all. It's what too many years wandering this earth and seeing terrible, unspeakable, things day in and day out did to a person.

"I hope sister is doing better today than I am. I don't know if I'll be writing this down to tell her about it. I tell her everything, but I don't think she needs anything to make her life harder. The shackling prison is hard enough after all," she sighed.

Charlotte just listened to her mutterings, smoking her cigar.

"Sister, I know it was rightfully decreed, but I wish we didn't have to go through so much suffering. I miss the days where we were able to lounge around in the fields without a care in the world. I would give anything to lay in the sun, making flower crowns together, but those days are done. Gone, never to come again." Her expression was wistful, her glassy dull eyes full of innumerable sorrows.

Flashes of the past danced in her mind's eye, smiling girls in a sunny field, their hair a matching sky blue shimmering against the matching sky. Those were nice days. Better days. Perfect days.

"How 'bout a toast," Charlotte offered, drawing her back. Her glass was lifted and extended towards Hanya. She took her own in hand and clicked it against the other.

"To better, sunnier, days."

"To better days," Hanya echoed before she took a drink.

[shiny-jr]

I fumkin love ur fic The Devil so much, love ur oc charlemagne and i gort SO down bad for him, very sadge to see that not a lot of people talkinf about him or the fic in general in tumblr but man that fic in quotev do have a gorilla grip on me that i would reread it back to back every saturday and sundays. Like, charlie is the blorbo from my yandere fic authors that i would want to chew up like a beloved dog toy, knead him like bread dough, let him rise and bake him at 400f for 15 minutes. Soak him with milk and suck the milk out like that one Webkinz toy and throw him against the wall to make a wet thud, wring him like a towel and clamp him down between my teeth and shake at breakneck speeds like those feral dogs , elbow bomb him like a WWE wrestler, put him in a meat grinder and make Charlemagne sausages,,, words alone cannot describe how much that man makes my brain go brr as in jackhammer obliterating tiled floors brr

It gives me some th0ts that wjat if tje mc somehow got into this groundhog type of situation and wakes up on the day where charlie would propose to her with expensive chunky ring. Id think after going thru all the shitstorm she would learn that "okay, maybe he is the greatest detective of all time, rivaling batman" and knows rhat if she drops everything and run, he is jusr going to find her and ruin everything again anyways

So she says yea sure go nuts, but there is that flavour of fear to whenever shes around him, im pretty sure anyone who is partially sentient can pick up on the vibe , especially charlie

Whenever he gives affection or gifts it woild be met with nervousness like mc is about to shit herself out of trembling so hard, but out of sheer fear and anger and hatred

Whenever he tries to ask what's wrong mc would simply dismiss his concerns and kinda gaslight him, saying he is crazy for thinking that something is wrong, the gaslighting done out of revenge and instinct to survive

I feel like that would be a mindfuck for him, i wonder if he would eventually just get used to it or he would smoke so much that he grows an extra pair of lungs cause the carcinogens mutated him so much that he went through rapid forced evolution

Of course, mc probably had to sacrifice her happiness with Elian and the pups, but i guess it should be temporary until charlie rests in pieces due to stress and confusion, but then the mc would also be in pieces from having her CPU on 100% everyday

Whoop another groundhog day event, mc just straight up murders him with the wine glass when she wakes up on the day he proposes to her again, unprompted, maybe even going all john wick and kill him with a pencil after sketching the final coat design

Also mans is lucky he is in the 70's, no doubt hes getting cancelled to hell if he is like in the 2020's

I can't tell if he would be the type to wear a hazmat or astronaut suit during the pandemic or he would brush the cheeky touch of the virus off as a mere cold, being anti vax and all

Makes me think about how he would react with social media and stuff, i kinda headcannon that he would obsessively read his comment section cause he loves feeling angy , but maybe he would simply not, cause as an influencer or celebrity, first rule is to never look at the comment section

Perhaps if you directly bring the 70's Charlie to modern days, he would go insane over social media and how much people talk about public figures

I also headcannon that a massive chunk of his regular business budget is allocated towards lawsuits too, cauae wirh all the stunts he is pulling publicly im pretty sure sometimes its just cheaper and more effective to pay the lawsuit than go on long shady battles wirh them, you know like how that "life hack" where you send a billionaire your wedding invitation and chances are they're going to give you gifts despite literally not knowing who you are? Yea that

I feel like if he is broight into modern modern times, his PR team would be working over time, crying, throwing up, shitting with all the crap he pulls. Everyone is bald from stress, everyone aged into an octogenarian and they have like a pager like surgeons where it alerts them whenever charlie does some silly shit and rhey have to do immediate damage control

Like he would spend hundreds of hours probably feeding the trolls and doxxing them too, nightmare for anyone on his marketing and PR team

But i might be wrong , he probably knows better and just ignores them

If he is 25 in like around 1974 (i assume thats when it takes place), he must be like 74 in 2023 and he would still slay the house down while battling arthritis and chronic bronchitis like yes hater king, go off 👏👏

Imagine though, 74 years old pulling stunts like how he did with mc in prosa, just need to pop a couple painkillers and go committing entering and breaking with their elderly walkers, maybe even with turbo wheelchairs

I feel like he would make his own Charlemagne brand electronics, and call it Charlemobile which comes built in with adware for his products only, like a popup ad keeps distracting you telling you to praise him and he would definitely 100% steal your information, like he is the only electronic manufacturer where you should read the terms and conditions word per word if you don't want to end up on craigslist one day

On the softer side, i feel like Charlie would prepare your medications when the both of you gets old and reminds you to eat it ❤️

Mc would try to sneak in a cyanide pill from time to time for his set of medications but have a sneaking suspicion that he might be immune to them cause of microdosing from years of assassination attempts

But lets muddle up the timeline again, i wonder like, will Charlie still kidnap mc even tho shes abstinent? Like no interest in dating other people, or interest in her dogs or interest in having children, she does her own NPC thing. But religiously rejects Charlie like muscle memory from clicking the "X" on a popup ad, will he still snap or will he just sees it as "oh well i can work with this"

Or like mc gets so spooked with all this groundhog day thing that she moves back in with the parents and refuses to budge, becomes a NEET,, will he still kidnap her ? Or kidnap her family in a twist of events

If they ever get married would he let mc see her family or is it a "god i fuckin hate my in laws , we are not going to the barbeque" type of deal?

I also keep thinking about the engagement announcement party near the end of the book, cause im a gal who has a really reactive bowel when nervous or uncomfortable or feeling strong emotions in general, i was thinking what if during the entire thing mc is stuck in the toilet and missed everything , including Elian and Charlie's top 5 freakouts of all time, so while you nuked the toilet, charlie nukes the whole place down. That would be funny i think

But yeah literally if i were in the story i would spend a great deal of time jailed to a toilet, i would literally miss every show of his because out of anger shits, i feel that would make him smoke a couple extra cigarettes that day and maybe even cry because it is force of nature, he cant conquer nature

Or can he? 👀

I feel like if this happens in the 1920's Charlie would consider lobotomizing mc but im glad its in the 70's

Do u think he would binge watch trashy TV reality shows and clutch his pearls whenever drama happens

Wow this is a long waffle, thanks for reading and until then, i shall be painfully yearning for more Charlemagne content

- Charlemagne Simp Anon (can i claim this anon pls)

Holy shit. Okay. When I saw how long this ask was, my eyes went wide like. My dude, this is a whole essay. I gotta put it under a special tag because I think this is the longest ask I've ever gotten and there's a lot of funny stuff from this. It's so wild to me that you would reread it so often?? That whole first paragraph really just shocked me.

These are a lot of thoughts you bring. A lot. Most I'm not even sure how to react to or how to respond. The part about his age though got me, because I know for a fact that Charlemagne would still be pulling crazy stunts at that age, like crashing the biggest fashion galas despite being on the ban list specifically because he's caused scenes in the past. Also, he would 100% watch horrible reality tv shows and clutch his pearls.

Unfortunately, I don't plan to make any Charlemagne content for the future, unless I had this groundbreaking idea and I see that The Devil reaches another milestone.

[nereb-and-dungalef]

do i change my icon to this mfer

(edmund dulac, angel of the drink of darkness, from the illustrated rubaiyat)

or like

this guy

(zdzislav beksinsky, untitled)

or idk. something else? idk. contemplating

[nyctophobia-au]

Pan pan pan- poly-poly-poly- im in my element in this au (pan poly demiromantic aceflux go BRR) /pos

ANYWAYS. Sorry if you've already done them, but Hollow? And if you've already done them BV (I know you gave them a name but I'm blanking so hard) or Ghost

Omgggg, yesss. I am a bisexual poly person, myself (also just realised I'm romance-repulsed recently lmao /lh), so I am definitely inspired to write characters, especially poly characters! /pos But yeah, since I just did Hollie, I'll do Echo (that's BV's name, lmao; no worries on forgetting it).

So, for sexuality, I label Echo as achillean because, well, they are an enby that likes cute boys. They are, fun fact, also very poly!! For gender, I have the same answer for Echo as I did for Hollow, so they just stick to the genderfluid label. For ships I like with them, I actually don't have any ships for them,,, at least not with canon characters. Not sure how detailed I should get with it, but after they're an adult, they end up meeting a couple of cute bfs that they settle down with. I don't have names and/or concreate personalities for them yet, but one is an ant and the other is a trans male bee. :] As for BROTPs, they have a pretty good relationship with both Hollow and Hornet. They started out disliking Hollow quite a bit, but as they get to know them, they become fast pals. With Hornet, Echo and Ghost both live with Hornet and Herrah for a time, so Echo gets pretty close to their baby sister as well. Again, Grimm is like their cool second dad, though their relationship has more of a cool uncle that secretly slips you wine behind your father's back. /lh The most defining relationship they have is with Ghost, however. Ghost was the only friend they knew and loved for the whole first fifteen years of their life, until they met Hollow, Hornet, Grimm, and their father. Ghost and Echo were joined at the hip, and the two care about each other very deeply. Ghost especially, though Ghost is pretty hard to read and unemotional most of the time. NOTPs for Echo are, as per usual, anything to do with their parents, sibs, other Higher Beings, and well, most people significantly older than them. :p As for my random headcanon: their most important and beloved hobby is art. They love art very much, and first got their start in drawing and painting when they used to paint rocks in the Abyss with Void from the lake. They would draw pretty pictures with it, and that interest carried over into them drawing pictures in the dirt with sticks, and then even later, drawing on paper that Hornet would share with them. Overall, Echo is a pretty nice addition to the cast personality-wise, and they are also pretty important to the main plot as well. Plus, they are just very cute and fun to write.

[oppaihun]

Brain go brr the ending of red wine supernova is on a loop in said brain

[firemenenthusiast]

raging size kink go brr cuz i just know jann could recreate that wine bottle pic iykyk

[wolffofspades]

The loudest “HUH?!” I said when I saw @eldelascosquillas-blog liked my dumb pun post lol

Perfect excuse to ramble on that the guy has been making my brain construct scenarios for a few days now, all from the what if of him shadowing my sona. And I’ve been trying to figure out which one to put on paper. Been thinking he’d be fairly curious about her. I mean who wouldn’t. She looks like a homunculus, avian, human and canine. Lycanthropy go brr. Hopefully a bottle of wine would make a good peace offering…..

Hopefully

Also wondering if he’d be more intrigued cuz she’s a jester too

(Apologies for the rambling. Your art is awesome and it’s also what got me into this community)

[dragonfyre-creations]

heehoo oc infodump go brr (mostly infodumping abt Faeng [angry red poof]) the different species have sorta subspecies ig? like fullblooded/hybrid/halfbreed sorta thing but they're usually groups of individuals that adapted to their environment/climate (good example is Avios, Faeng's subgroup is adapted for colder climates with a higher body temperature, and overall being larger to tackle bigger and difficult prey, while another group is more adapted to the mountain range and are smaller to prioritize maneuverability), so fun fact technically Faeng and her brother are considered a halfbreed

Avios form groups/packs of around 10-15 individuals and they creche raise their offspring in groups to make it easier to keep track of said offspring (they're mobile STRAIGHT outta the egg and immediately are little shits getting into everything or running away to explore things which mostly involves stuffing it into their mouth and gnawing on it), Faeng's creche group consisted of her twin brother, Sedri, and the offspring of their dad's rival, Machre and Cyrus, who was later kicked out for attempting and failing miserably to overthrow their dad, group heirarchy is based on age, so Faeng technically being the oldest is in charge of the creche group and the younger of the two, Cyrus, takes after their dad more and is constantly picking fights with Faeng, most of which he loses. Ryiuk joined very later

Faeng uses she/they, Sedri uses he/they, Sedri being more femme-aligned, Cyrus uses they/them, Cyrus is confused on their alignment but has the spirit, and Machre goes by whatever. Faeng only hatched like 5 minutes earlier than Sedri but still uses that technicality to stop him from causing absolute chaos (boy CANNOT be left in charge of anything or else he WILL make it everyone's problem

She's way larger than she should be she won the genetic lottery with multiple factors and as a result is just, fucking huge, so her brother is straight average height of 5'11 (~180 cm) while she's fuckin 6'5 (~195 cm). Sedri later hits a growth spurt and end's up being the same height as her and in typical twin sibling fashion impersonates her and because they sound almost the exact same and now are damn near indistinguishable makes it very difficult for the other two to figure out if Faeng's actually asking them to do something or if it's Sedri pranking them

Cyrus and Sedri are a fling turned "oh shit i actually like them", Machre is aro/ace and does not tolerate anyone telling him "you just havent found the right one yet!", my dude is here to wine and dine and romance is NOT on their menu, and Faeng is lesbian/ace.

Faeng and Ryiuk accidentally beat the snot out of eachother the first time they met

both Sedri and Faeng are autistic, Sedri being a sensory seeker while Faeng will fold anyone who touches her except Sedri and Ryiuk