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endlessthxxghts · 5 months ago

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Biology

“Uncle”!Joel Miller x afab!reader | w/c: 5.4k

Summary: Joel hurt his back at work, so you've been helping him around the house until he heals.

Content/Warnings: able-bodied, female sex anatomy, and inherently fem!reader. No description of reader, everything is neutral (ex. “your bottoms,” “the curve of you” — nothing is specific in the way “you” are described). Age gap (reader early 20s, Joel in 50s). EXPLICIT MATERIAL PRESENT. HEED THE WARNINGS. WEIRD boundaries are crossed…you're not blood-related to Joel, but you were raised like you were. You call him “uncle.” Pet names (baby, darlin’, sweetheart, etc.). Pussy pronouns (she). Innocent touches until it isn't. Sexual tension galore. Slight dub-con. Icky Joel. Icky reader. Pussy grinding. Dirty talk. Slight degradation (“bitch” is used only once). Multiple orgasms. P in V unprotected. Reader is on top. Lots of teasing about the nature of yours and Joel’s relationship. If there’s anything that should be up here but I missed or I made any improper tags, please let me know!

A/N: Hi, my loves! This is slightly different than what you’re used to coming from me… All I can say is, you’ve read the warnings! Don’t bite if it is not your flavor! But for those who do like, I really hope you enjoy! And to my love @strang3lov3, thank you for prompting this and encouraging this side of my brain to finally stop hiding in the shadows. And thank you for your eyes on this and the mood board as well. I love you.🩶

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“Hey, hon, when you headin’ over to uncle Joel’s?”

You glance at the timer on the oven. “In about ten minutes after these cookies cool. Need something from me?”

“Can ya grab my toolbox before ya leave? Forgot it there the other day,” he replies. “Figured you could get it since you’re already goin’ there today.”

“Sure thing. It’s not the heavy one, is it? Because I don’t know if that old man’s back is ready for a heavy lift like that yet.” The timer on the oven beeps. You slide on your oven mitts to pull the tray out. “Made two batches by the way. How many you want? I’m taking some to Uncle’s, too.”

About a week ago, Joel had a contracting accident. Some newbie wasn’t watching the older man’s back as Joel climbed up a wobbly ladder, and the next moment, Joel’s footing slipped. He landed right on his lower back, a piece of wood perched on the ground, sitting at just the right spot on the floor to render him immobile. Tommy, Joel’s younger brother, and your father, his best friend since before you were born, are the only two Joel trusts to get the job done perfectly, so Joel put them two in charge until he heals.

Bed rest, the doctor had ordered Joel, for at least three weeks. It’s been one so far, but with you offering to be his nurse — one that forces him to stay in bed unless he needs to eat or use the restroom — he thinks he just might be back to work by next week. If you’ll let him, that is.

“No, it’s the small one, hon, you got it,” your father reassures you. He lovingly slaps his growing belly as the trays hit the kitchen counter. “Y’know, darlin’, ever since you moved back, I’ve been gainin’ some weight. Can’t imagine what you’re doin’ t’ Joel over there.”

Your lip pulls up in a smirk. “Joel is in good hands, y’know. And technically, I don’t have to leave you any,” you say with a challenging brow, pulling the cookie trays out of his reach.

“No, no, I’m not sayin’ that,” your father’s eyebrows raise in worry. His daily cookie is very important to him. “You can leave me like… five… or six.”

“I’m just gonna leave you a whole batch. The six are gonna be gone before I even leave the house,” you tell your father as his hand subconsciously reaches for the cookie tray.

He scoffs, “Ya have no faith in me.”

“So what’s in your hand already?”

“Whatever,” he mumbles, walking away with a mouthful of warm cookie dough and melted milk chocolate chips.

“Uh huh,” you yell back. “Gonna be leaving in just a sec. I’ll see you later.”

It takes less than ten minutes to get to your uncle’s house. You unlock the door using the spare key he gave you as a teenager, and immediately, nurse mode is activated.

“Uncle Joel!” You yell, exasperated. He turns around from his place in the kitchen, painfully slow. He’s going to make his back worse. “What do you think you’re doing?” You place the fresh cookies on his dining table along with your keys. You cross your arms angrily for good measure.

“My coffee’s cold. I was warmin’ it up,” he huffs, annoyed.

“Bed, please.” Your hands find his waist, and you guide him back to his room. “You know I’m here around this time. You didn’t wanna call me first to see where I was?”

You ease him in a sitting position at the edge of his bed. He grunts as his ass meets the mattress. He grumbles his response. “Need to start gettin’ back to everythin’ independently, y’know that, don’tcha?”

“Is your memory going with your back, too, unc?”

“‘Scuse me?” He looks at you incredulously.

“Three weeks were the doctor’s orders. Not one,” you tell him, putting your foot down.

He lays himself down with another wince at the motion, no acknowledgement to your words. God, he’s so stubborn.

“I’ll go make you a fresh cup,” you tell him, feeling sympathetic for the man. His work is his life, and it’s not going to get any easier with age.

Making your way back to his kitchen, you wash out the coffee pitcher, replace the grounds and the filter, and do some light cleaning as you wait for the bitter, brown liquid to brew.

It’s only been five minutes since you returned to the kitchen, and the painful moans and groans from his bedroom have only gotten louder. You search around the place and find the heat pack you bought a few days ago and pop it in the microwave. You grab some pain meds, fill up a glass of water, and just in time, the microwave sings to you, telling you your contents are ready.

Ignoring the coffee for a moment, you make your way back to Joel’s bedroom. His eyes are closed, but his entire body is tensed up in pain. Poor guy. You knock at his door to catch his attention before entering. “Unc?”

One eye peels open. “Yes, nurse?”

“Funny.” A sarcastic laugh leaves your throat. “Come take these.”

He makes no move to get up.

You set the painkillers and the water on his bedside table, the heat pack wedged underneath your armpit. You start to reach for Joel to help him up, but he stops you. “I got it,” he grunts. You let him have this win.

You hand him the glass of water first, then the pills. He swallows the painkillers in one big gulp, swallowing down the rest of the water in another. He eyes the heat pack in your arm.

“Do you want-”

“Yes,” he says immediately, reaching for the soft warmth.

“Lay down first, I’ll put it underneath you.”

Without another word, he positions himself. His body jerks when your soft hand slips underneath his back, pushing him to lift a little while you slide the heat underneath. “This okay?”

“Mhm,” he forces out, eyes clamped shut. It’s not okay, you think.

“How would you feel on your stomach?” you suggest.

“Dunno. Never tried.”

“Well, then.” You set the heat pack down, and it’s your turn to crawl, uninvited, into his bed. You walk on your knees towards the opposite, unoccupied side, adjusting the pillows in a way you think might be the most comfortable. This isn’t your first rodeo dealing with an old man’s back; you’ve got your dad. This is, however, your first rodeo dealing with an old man more stubborn than a screaming goat not getting his way. “Come on.”

“No.”

“What do you mean no?”

“That ain’t gonna be comfortable.”

“How do you know?”

“I jus’ do.”

You pinch the bridge of your nose and take a deep breath. “I swear to God. I will flip your ass over myself if I have to.”

“You’re bossy,” he spits.

“So you’ve said.”

Not giving him a chance to prepare, you hook your one hand at his side and your other on his hip, and you pull him towards you. It doesn’t fully flip him over, but it does the trick in getting him to finish the rest of the action himself — albeit, with a very strained yelp from the back of his throat.

He groans for a few minutes more as you adjust some flat pillows underneath his belly and then prop the lukewarm heating back right at the base of his spine. You’ll probably have to heat it up in ten minutes again, but it’ll do for now. You stay in your spot for a minute, and already his pained noises begin to subside.

“Better?” You know it is. You just want him to admit it.

And when a single huff with zero protests from the grumpy man reverberates around the room, you know you’ve won this round.

“I’ll go get your coffee now,” you hum.

A soft rasp of your name has you spinning back around as you reach the room’s threshold.

“Hm?”

“Thanks,” he tells you.

“It’s what I’m here for, unc.”

You put his fresh cup of coffee in a thermos this time. You can’t imagine how often he’ll get up being in this position, but at least the freshness will be there with every sip he does end up taking.

“How’s it going?” You ask him as you set his coffee nearby. You feel the heat pack on his spine, and it’s as you called it to be by now: room temperature. “Want me to reheat it?”

“‘M okay,” he replies, voice groggy. He must’ve fallen asleep.

“Okay.” You stand there for a moment. You can tell the heat helped, but his body isn’t entirely relaxed. He’s still tense, as if a nerve or something is being pinched.

You recall your memory from a while ago before you moved back with your dad. Your brother, who is a mixed martial arts athlete, had a sparring session that hurt his back, nearly in the same area as Joel. He had you running his massage gun over his muscles nearly every night for a month straight. “It needs to uncoil somehow,” he told you. An idea crosses your mind then.

You saunter to Joel’s en suite bathroom in search of some type of lubricant. Sitting loud and proud on the center of the bathroom counter is a little bottle of Equate’s Personal Liquid Lubricant. Your brain falters for a second, the bottle of lube throwing you off your original plan. That is absolutely not the kind of lubricant you were looking for. Shaking away the image from your mind, you bend down to look in the cabinets underneath. Bingo, a bottle of Aveeno body lotion. This should do.

You invite yourself onto his bed for the second time today. “Let me give you a massage.”

“What?” His head turns to you now, utterly confused. He definitely heard you wrong, he thinks.

“Let me give you a massage,” you repeat. “It’ll help.”

A massage actually does sound nice right now. But you’ve been nothing but bossy this last week while Joel lays here helplessly. He’s bored. And he’s had enough. “It ain’t gonna help.”

“How do you know?”

“I jus’ do.”

Jesus. Haven’t you had this conversation before? You mentally slap your forehead. Again, leaving him no other options, you reach for his flannel atop his shoulders and begin to pull them down.

“Hey, hey, wait, now what in the hell-” He tries to stifle back a laugh as he wriggles in your hold, trying to playfully push you off without hurting himself more in the process.

You quickly release his clothes, hands up in surrender where he can see them. You’re just realizing now just how forward your action must’ve been. “How am I gonna massage you-”

The embarrassment written all over your face has Joel tearing up as he tries to hold his wheezing laugh in. With his eyebrow quirked at you, he responds, “If you wanted me naked, kiddo-”

“Jesus, ew! Really?” An unbearable heat spreads across your cheeks. Your eyes are downcast, looking everywhere else but him. “It- it’ll be better if I can directly touch-”

Only then do you feel the bed shaking with his laughter. He’s fucking with you. And here you were, about to offer something that would relieve a whole lot of pain. “Oh, fuck you,” you scoff, pulling yourself up and making your way off of his bed.

“No, okay, wait,” he laughs, trying to catch his breath. “Jus’ messin’ with you, who am I to deny a massage?” He raises his eyebrows once, twice. Still messing with you, seeing how far his taunting with you can go.

“You’re disgusting,” you deadpan.

“‘M not the one tryin’ t’ massage her uncle,” Joel says as he attempts to shrug his shoulders at you.

“I’m gonna leave now.” One foot makes it to the ground before Joel speaks again.

“Oh, for Christ’s sake, ya can’t take a joke? I’m only messin’ around. Come back. Gonna leave me hangin’? In pain? C’mon, nurse.” His tone falls softer, sweeter. You can hear the shit-eating grin in his words. And, fuck, why is it making you heat even further, in places beyond your face? In places you shouldn’t be?

“Fine,” you relent. “Stop saying weird shit then.” You still can’t look at him. Not after the way your body decided to react in the shift of energy. An abrupt shift of energy, as far as you can tell.

He’s your dad’s best friend. Your uncle, for crying out loud. Not by blood, but still. There’s never been a feeling beyond that. Sure, you’ve had your silly little school girl crush on him during your young teenage years, but that was your hormones being your hormones. You grew out of them. Even your own father can’t deny the conventional attractiveness of his best friend.

Plus, suggestive commentary is bound to make anyone feel hot. It’s basic biology. Your response is nothing. It doesn’t mean anything. At least, that’s what you convince yourself of when you climb back into your uncle’s— no, into Joel’s bed, trying to ignore the way your panties stick dutifully against your throbbing core.

Joel leans onto his side as you get yourself situated, unbuttoning the bottom half of his flannel, so you can flip up the bottom to reach his lower back. After the bottom half of the buttons are undone, he lays back on his front. “Here,” he calls your name. “Jus’ lift it up from the bottom.”

You scoot closer to him, standing on your knees, and you reach over to grab the hem of his flannel, pulling it up as gently as possible, exposing just enough to be able to reach the irritated areas. You frown at what you see. Inflamed skin, purples and yellows dancing all across his lower back, forcing him away from the very thing he lives for. He may have been a stubborn bitch this entire week, but that doesn’t stop the sympathy you feel for the man.

You put some of the lotion in your hand, rubbing it between your two palms to warm it up a little. You place your hand on the side closest to you first, moving in circular motions and adjusting your pressure ever so often. “Let me know when the pressure is good.”

So far he hasn’t said much, a slight groan here, an exhale there. You feel a knot as you move lower, so you increase your pressure. You’re met with a literal moan, and you swear you have to bite back your own vocal response. “Fuck,” he sucks in a sharp breath. “Yeah, jus’ like that, ‘s perfect, darlin’.”

“Okay,” you squeak, your thighs clenching together to attempt any kind of relief to the heat between your legs.

After a few more passes over the area — and a few more indulgent, harder presses of your palm to pull more angelic sounds from him — you switch to the other side. Except, at this angle, you don’t really have as good an angle as you did before. Your leg swings over his ass, bracketing him in between your thighs, before you can even register the move your body just made. A soft gasp falls from your lips as you feel the new angle you’ve just given yourself.

“Joel?” You call sweetly. Innocently.”I- I’m not hurting you or anything, am I?”

Hurting? No. Putting him through Hell? Close enough.

Joel has done many questionable things in his lifetime. Getting involved with taken (married or otherwise) women, couples who wanted a third… Joel has lived through it all. Mainly in his younger years, but nevertheless. He has done and seen many things. But none of these things have ever included getting a fucking hard on for a girl — a woman? — he practically had a hand in raising. You call him uncle, for crying out loud.

His physical response means nothing. It’s basic biology. The tender yet skilled touch of your warm hands directly against his even hotter skin, lighting every single nerve ending on fire, forcing the blood to course through his veins, to make its way down south—

“Christ-” he snarls as you practically sit on him. His mouth shuts instantly as his eyes shoot open. He didn’t mean for that to come out. “Y-yeah,” he corrects. “‘M alright.”

“Just- just let me know,” you tell him. He can hear the shake in your voice. He can tell biology is doing a number on you, too, based on your tone alone, if the heat engulfing his rear as you try your best not to make contact with it isn’t enough to go by.

He focuses on his breathing as best he can as your hands push slightly past his jeans, getting underneath the seam of his boxers, and then immediately softening your touch as you run your fingers up his spine, awaking a chill he never knew was possible until now. You rub beyond the exposed area of his lower back, reaching his shoulder blades and entirely up to his shoulders, forcing the flannel to rise with your hands. He’s so broad and warm, and you would absolutely be drooling all over him by now if you weren’t so shocked at how tight his muscles really feel. How has this man not gotten any injuries sooner? How was he still doing all this heavy lifting? You dig the pads of your finger tips further into the thousands of tiny knots you feel, and his body jerks in actual pain this time.

“God damn, girl,” he snaps. “What are you doin’?”

“How the fuck do you even function?” You sound genuinely horrified.

“What-”

“Your shoulders and neck are fucking covered in knots how do you even-” you cut yourself off with a disappointed click of your tongue. “You need to flip over.”

Fuck.

“Why?” He asks defensively.

“I’m gonna break these knots. I need to start from the front.”

“Ya ain’t gettin’ anywhere near my neck, I swear to God-”

“Quit being stubborn. What did I say earlier? I’m gonna flip you myself if you don’t-”

“Alright, fine, gimme a sec,” he bites. Joel takes a deep breath, at war with himself for how he’s going to handle his next course of action.

Whatever happens next, there is no avoiding the fact that you will be made aware of the bulging erection between his legs. You can know about it, that’s fine, but the second you make contact, he doesn’t know if he’ll have the strength to control himself. Which is why he rips off the band aid quick. Flipping himself over with you still hovering over him, he tries his best not to touch you. Though, the second he’s comfortable, his focus is on your waist, grabbing you immediately and missing the way your eyes widen at the tenting fabric of his jeans. He pulls you higher up to sit on his lower tummy.

You squeak out a little gasp as he adjusts you, and fuck it makes the pulsing between his legs even worse. He releases you, bringing his hands back to his sides.

“Comfortable?” you whisper. You try so hard not to use your voice, worried that it’ll reveal just how turned on you are by this situation you’ve put yourself in. He gives you a single nod, and with that, you lean to grab more lotion.

The angle you are at forces you to lean the front of your body onto Joel to be able to reach his shoulders. You can feel his body tense underneath you; you can hear his labored breathing as your hands further push away his flannel, working away at each knot.

You lean forward further, giving yourself the ability to reach just below Joel’s neck. With this action, your hips shift, pressing down against Joel’s belly in a way that sends a sudden jolt of butterflies through your core. Your hands freeze in their movement, breath and fingertips stuttering as your entire face and neck heat up. You sneak a quick glance to Joel, and his eyes are still relaxed. He didn’t notice.

It takes you a moment to start your movements back up again, but when you do, you can’t help the way you repeat exactly what you did before — allowing yourself another experimental roll of your hips against his soft abdomen. Only this time, you’re way less sly, for the whimper of pleasure you thought you could hide slips right out, right for his sharp ears to take note of. Shit.

“Y’ alright there?” His eyes are trained on you now; he knows what you just did. Joel sports a quirked eyebrow as he waits for your response.

“Mhm,” you rush out, ignoring his piercing gaze.

It takes every ounce of willpower for you to run over the knots in his shoulder again without driving your hips into him, but even the push and pull of your arms is a full body movement, and you feel it. You feel the growing wetness in your core, the growing heartbeat that his bare tummy no doubt can feel now.

Your body is splayed across him, the warmth of you leaking through your bottoms and onto his hot skin as you pathetically try to play off the fact that you aren’t grinding your wet cunt across him right now. With a rasp of your name, he takes a sharp breath in. “What are ya doin’?” He grunts, pained. Conflicted.

This is so wrong. But it feels so good. Your arousal — how utterly desperate you are for the older man underneath you — is shone all over your face, brighter than any other feeling of disgust or wrongness you’re trying to convince yourself of. But the internal battle is still there, though, and it forces your hips to come to a full stop. It forces cries of apologies from your lips. It forces regret.

“I- I’m sorry,” you choke back a sob. “Please, I- this is so wrong, I’m so stupid, uncle, I-”

God damn it. Joel is too damn hard to deal with this shit now. “Oh, Jesus Christ, will you cut the fuckin’ uncle bullshit?” He finally snaps. His hands spring to life, finding their way up your thighs, tightening once they reach your hips. He forces you to move again. “Ya think I wanna hear that fuckin’ word while you fuckin’ soak me? Huh? While ya rub on me like a fuckin’ bitch in heat?”

“Shit,” you moan, the strength of his hand making the assault against your mound all the more intense. “Joel, please,” you cry, your fingers shaking as you hold onto his chest.

Your thighs begin to tremble as he maintains a rough pace to your movements, his bed creaking with every shove of your hips against him. His grip on you is one of steel, the pads of his fingers digging into your flesh, no doubt leaving tiny bruises as a reminder of today’s actions.

He is fucking covered in you — the slick of your desire pooling through your bottoms and into his skin, making each grind smoother. He licks his lips at this, his eyes dark as he drinks you in from above; your own eyes glossy and a sheen of sweat along your skin. “Look at ya, darlin’,” he murmurs, voice low enough to send a fresh wave of arousal pouring from your hole. “Fuckin’ soakin’ me, baby. Needed me that bad, did ya? Was tryin’ t’ tell ya earlier,” he grunts, “Y’know ya just had to ask.” A lazy smirk pulls across his lip.

You let out a whimper at his words, your hips finally rolling alongside his own guidance, instinctively searching for more friction. “Atta girl,” he groans, “That’s it, fuck- makin’ a fuckin’ mess a’ me, darlin’.”

You’re panting now, the rhythm and pressure mixed with the filth of his Southern drawl ignites every single nerve ending throughout your body. He watches you with a dark intensity, the brown of his eyes replaced with pure black lust, his eyes unable to stray away from the pleasurable desperation filling your features.

“Gonna come like this, sweetheart?” He taunts, driving you into him even harder.

“Mmm- my God, yeah- yes,” you cry out, eyes rolling back as the coil in your belly finally tightens, your breathing ragged as needy moans escape your lips.

With a final roll of your hips and the utterance of a that’s my girl, the coil finally snaps, pleasure crashing over you, coursing through your veins as you come all over him, your slick unable to stay within the limits of your clothes, leaking and dripping down the sides of him and onto the mattress below. Your thighs convulse around his waist, his hold on you continuing your thrusts, dragging out your orgasm until your own hands find his and rip him away from you.

“Ya ain’t done yet, sugar,” Joel gruffs, grabbing the globes of your ass cheeks and dragging you down, letting you feel his ignored and now raging erection.

“Never said I was,” you purr, a soft moan blessing his ears at the feel of his bulge against your ass. He can feel your smirk against his chest.

Body still trembling, Joel lifts your ass in the air, sliding your bottoms down over the curve of your body. The stickiness of your panties pulls off with a wet squelch, the cool air of the room mingling with the wet warmth of your bare pussy, the stark contrast forcing chills to run through your veins.

“God,” he murmurs as you give a little wiggle of your ass in the air. “Pretty as a peach, huh, darlin’?” He guides you lower, pushing you down onto his bulge. The hardness of him beneath you immediately sends a fiery need to your core. Your hands move on their own as you pull your body up, reaching for the buttons and zipper of his jeans, undoing them with ease despite the eager shake of your hand. You pull the jeans down just enough to let his cock spring free, thick and angry and leaking.

“Oh, fuck,” you swallow your gasp. “God, I need you so bad,” you whine, already lifting up to line the tip of him to your swollen cunt.

You sink down with a breathless moan, your head flying back as your hands grip onto his tummy to keep you from buckling.

Joel’s breathing stutters, his moans filling the air as you practically choke his cock. “Shit- so fuckin- fuckin’ tight.” His hands find their home on the meat of your ass, holding you tight, grounding himself from coming like a damn teenager.

You move slowly at first, savoring the way he feels inside of you, how big he is. God, you don’t think you’ve ever taken anything quite as long and as thick as him. Your heart skips a beat at that, knowing that he’s ruined you for anyone else.

It isn’t long before the raw need takes over, and you move faster, hips rolling back and forth as you ride him, the wet sound of skin against skin as you alternate to a bounce ever so often.

Despite the risk of hurting his back even more, he can’t stop himself from gripping you tighter, his nails digging into your flesh as his hips buck up into you, starting their own rhythm, meeting every one of your thrusts. The sensation is overwhelming with the size of him; it’s a perfect mix of pleasure and pain, mixing sweet whines of ecstasy with whines of overstimulation, and it’s the best music to have ever graced his ears.

“Look at ya,” he grunts. “Fuckin’ made for this, weren’t ya? Fuckin’ made for takin’ this cock, huh, sweetheart?”

You nod weakly at his words. They send a flutter down your belly to your pussy, and his mouth is all it takes to send you to your second brink of collapse — your heart beating rapidly in your chest as you move, as he drives himself into you without abandon.

Every thrust pushes you further to the edge, the sting of the stretch, the sensation of being so full — it’s almost too much to bear. He can hear it in the way your cries change. It’s becoming too much.

“Y’ can take it, sweetheart, almost there,” he grunts. His hands take over in guiding your movements, urging you faster, harder, bringing you both to the cliff’s edge.

“C’mon, baby, can feel her squeezin’ me, know she wanna come, baby. Breathe, doll, jus’ let go,” he rasps, his words coming in staggered.

The wet tightness of your walls, both the feel and the sound, causes Joel to fall first — a low, guttural groan filling the room as he fills you with his hot, thick spend.

The sensation of him pulsing inside you, unloading everything he’s worth, sends you over your edge, your pussy clenching around his cock as you come, the sensation rippling through you, shredding your vocal cords as you scream out in pleasure.

Everything goes dark for you, nothing but the fuzzy sound of Joel’s sweet praises at the top of your head as he guides you through your come down.

“Did so fuckin’ good f’ me, darlin’,” he murmurs. “Sweet girl.”

For an asshole, who knew he could be so sweet?

You roll off of Joel as soon as your heart steadies, your entire body on fire from all the exertion. You can feel Joel’s body stiffen as you use him for support. His back is killing him right now.

A few moments pass as your eyes slowly start to close, but the deep gruff of your name stops you from dozing.

You turn your head to the man beside you. “Yes?”

For the first time today, it’s Joel who can’t make eye contact with you. “Can you, uh… can you-” he clears his throat, trying to rid himself of his awkwardness. “Can you warm up the heat pack again?”

Your smirk lifts your cheek before you can even try to stop it. “Come again?”

He lets out a frustrated huff. And he can’t turn away from you. His back is killing him right now. “My back-”

“Yeah, what about your back?”

“You fuckin’ little shit-”

You giggle as you flip onto your side, your hand holding your head up to get a better look at him. “Your back is hurting, baby? Need me to get the heat pack for you, hm?”

He doesn’t respond. He just has the deepest, most grumpiest scowl known to man on display.

“Oh, come on. You need my help, is that it? Need to hear you say it, unc.” You emphasize the last syllable of your sentence, a belly laugh threatening to escape you.

Oh, two can play at that game. “Yeah, baby, I need your help. I need the help from my beautiful, beautiful niece, hm? My beautiful, needy niece whose pussy gets all soaked jus’ thinkin’ ‘bout me, huh? Gets all wet and needy thinkin’ ‘bout her uncle-”

Your resolve finally snaps, your eyes clamping shut as you cover your ears, loud la la la’s coming from your mouth as you ungraciously roll yourself off of his bed. “Enough, fine! Fine! Fuckin’ nasty,” you groan as you make your way to the kitchen.

“‘M not the one who started it, sweetheart,” Joel says, a triumphant smile plastered across his cocky face.

“I made you cookies by the way,” you yell after a beat. “Want one?”

Joel’s hand reaches for his belly. He doesn’t need one, that’s for sure. “Yeah,” he responds not a second later.

You come back to his bedroom, heat pack in one hand, no cookie in the other. You hand him the heat pack. You make him adjust it himself.

“Where’s the cookie?” He asks, a tinge of impatience on his tongue.

“Oh, I thought you were gonna come down and get it.”

He looks at you incredulously.

“I just figured you wanted to start being more independent and all. Given how strenuous you were being a few moments ago,” you offer with a faux innocence.

“I swear to fuckin’ God, when I get my hands on you-”

“Your hands on me? Yeah? When?” You start making your way out of his bedroom. “Come get me if you wanna show me a lesson. Know you been dying to all week.”

If he can fuck you the way he did, maybe full-time bed rest isn’t what Joel needs. He needs to stretch and move around; he needs to activate his muscles, especially being on the older side. It really is basic biology.

I would absolutely love to hear what you guys thought of this! Any and all your love and commentary truly keeps me going and motivated even when the writer’s block is at its strongest. Wouldn’t be here without you all. I have so much love in my heart for you! Talk to y’all soon🩶

I cannot get myself to write for Joel or for TLOU without mentioning the horrors occurring in Palestine. Please check out the links in my navigation + bio to learn about the situation in Palestine and also learn about some ways in which you can help🇵🇸. Reading and interacting with those links takes 5 minutes of your time at the bare minimum.

Leaf divider by @saradika-graphics

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reasonsforhope · 5 months ago

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"An environmental toxicologist in California is cleaning up areas contaminated with heavy metals or other pollutants using fungi and native plants in a win-win for nature.

Where once toxic soils in industrial lots sat bare or weed-ridden, there are now flowering meadows of plants and mushrooms, frequented by birds and pollinators: and it’s thanks to Danielle Stevenson.

Founder of DIY Fungi, the 37-year-old ecologist from UC Riverside recently spoke with Yale Press about her ongoing work restoring ‘brownfields,’ a term that describes a contaminated environment, abandoned by industrial, extraction, or transportation operations.

A brownfield could be an old railway yard or the grounds of an abandoned oil refinery, but the uniting factor is the presence of a toxic containment, whether that’s a petrochemical, heavy metal, or something else.

Noting that she had read studies about mushrooms growing around the Chernobyl nuclear plant, she came to understand further, through her work, that fungi are an extraordinarily resilient species of life that consume carbon, and even though petroleum products are toxic to plants, to mushrooms they are essentially a kind of carbon.

In fact, mushrooms break down several categories of toxic waste with the same enzymes they use to consume a dead tree. They can also eat plastic and other things made out of oil, like agrochemicals.

At the Los Angeles railyard, as part of a pilot project, Stevenson and colleagues planted a variety of native grass and flower species alongside dead wood that would incubate specific fungi species called arbuscular mycorrhizal fungi, which assists plants in extracting heavy metals like lead and arsenic from the soil.

Alongside traditional decomposer fungi, the mixture of life forms demonstrated tremendous results in this brownfield.

“In three months we saw a more than 50 percent reduction in all pollutants. By 12 months, they were pretty much not detectable,” Stevenson told Yale 360.

Decontaminating soil like this typically involves bringing in a bulldozer and digging it all up for transportation to a landfill. This method is not only hugely expensive, but also dangerous, as contaminated material can scatter on the winds and fall out of the backs of trucks carting it away.

By contrast, the plants that draw out the toxic metals can be harvested and incinerated down to a small pile of ash before cheap transportation to a hazardous waste facility.

The technique, which Stevenson says has some scaling issues and issues with approval from regulators, is known officially as bioremediation, and she’s even used it to safely break down bags of lubricant-soaked rags from bicycle repair shops.

“People who live in a place impacted by pollution need to have a say in how their neighborhood is being cleaned up. We need to empower them with the tools to do this,” she said."

-via Good News Network, July 16, 2024

#mushrooms #fungi #mycology #mushroom #contamination #bioremediation #hazardous waste #hazardous materials #soil #mining #heavy metals #good news #hope #ecopunk #solarpunk

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ihavetoomanyocsdealwithit · 3 months ago

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Yuu has the audacity to ask a question. It leads to some interesting moments

Jade Leech, Rook Hunt, Vil Schoenheit, Floyd Leech

Jade Leech

“Jade, can I ask you a question?” It’s not often that the library is so packed that you end up sharing a table but if it had to be with anybody, at least it was Jade.

Jade wasn’t naturally academically smart. He took a lot of notes and studied in order to come out in the middle. There were folks that thought he was simply keeping his head down, but Yuu found out by accident. She knew Jade was incredibly street smart and people savvy though, no matter what grades he got. It worked in her favor though, as Jade let them copy notes from last year in exchange for not sharing the information anywhere. Not that Yuu planned too, but they weren’t going to pass up such an opportunity either.

“Of course, I will assist in anyway I can.”

“Do you have any books that you would recommend for scavenging for local flora and fauna in the woods back at Ramshackle? I’ve tried searching through the library but it’s a bit too vague for what I need.”

If Yuu had blinked, they would have missed the brief surprise and delight on his face.

“Well,” he sets his pen down, “As the president of the Mountain Lovers club, I’m sure we could discuss that during our meetings. If only you were a member.” he sighed

“If only Crowley would allow me to join any clubs.” Yuu muttered, “I know it's a requirement for first and second years to be involved in at least one, but he says I have far more to offer as his unofficial assistant. Unpaid is more accurate but what do I know.”

Jade smiles, the one that matches his brothers. Wide and full of teeth.

“Leave Crowley to me, dear Prefect. You just meet me in the morning behind Ramshackle. Bring a basket and your camera, oh, and dress warm. It'll be cold for you.”

He writes some extra instructions on a slip of paper and collects his things, turning left at the library doors. Damn, that was straight to the headmasters’ office too. Jade really doesn't play around when it comes to the Mountain Lover's club.

While Yuu isn’t able to attend every meeting, the Mountain Lover’s club apparently includes trips to other countries, recipes cooked in the Ramshackle kitchen as well as appreciating cultures and crafts made by various peoples which slowly starts to decorate the rickety dorm into something interesting and unique. Jade becomes a different person as a traveler and seems to find joy in just exploring and discovering all the different ways that people create and eat and live.

After he graduates, Yuu gifts him the book that the two of them created, with pictures and descriptions of all the Night Raven College fauna and flora, their uses, if they are edible, and different recipe and potion ingredients, the regions it comes from, and even snippets of stories and memories they share.

Jade is not an emotional man, but when he asks you to come with him on his next expedition, his smile is full of joy.

Rook Hunt

“Rook, can I ask you a question?”

Rook looks down from his spot in the tree, a camera perched in his hands. “Amazing eyesight, Mon Trickster! I did not anticipate being found. Ask away, but be quick, less Roi de Lion suspects me.”

“Are there any plays or poetry books that would be good for a beginner? I read a lot back home but I know there is cultural and historical context I'm going to be missing-”

“I am so happy!” he practically drops the tree, taking both of her hands to kiss the knuckles, “I would be happy to help you. Come, come!”

Oh, they are going to the library now. Right now. Ok, Yuu should have expected that.

Rook is always excitable, but he’s mindful as well. Picking out smaller volumes at first, and adding some reference materials, putting a few back as he asks questions about what she has already read or what she typically enjoys. He also writes out a list for audio books and radio performances. Thank the Seven that Crowley finally got them a phone and they could excuse the data usage for school.

“I have the films I would be willing to lend, but I would ask you be incredibly careful.”

“Oh, I don’t have a TV or any type of DVD player at Ramshackle. We try and keep the places as authentic as possible. It helps when the ghosts come to visit on Hallow’s eve.” They don’t have wifi either and their electricity runs off a backup generator, but Yuu doesn’t mention that. They are distinctly aware of how rundown Ramshackle is, but they try not to advertise how badly.

“What dedication you have to your dorm and the history of Night Raven College. We may do so in Pomefiore!”

And that’s how they end up having movie night basically every Wednesday night, sometimes with other Pomefiore members or even Vil himself refreshing on the classics. Rook would sit close by, quietly explaining certain contexts and even joining Yuu on reading through some of the poetry books. His passion comes out more with his knowledge than his speech in those moments, and it’s...nice. Normally Rook is the most reserved person she knows. He’s family is still a mystery, but she’s learned more about his beliefs and insights into how he perceives life in general.

“This is how I met Roi de Poison, you know. He enchanted me at first sight, but his mind...he understood my passion for theater, music and beauty. He respected me, once I proved that I loved him for more than his looks and roles.”

Crazy fan he might have been in the past, it was definitely more of an equal relationship once you saw past the surface level. Yuu eventually started picking a few habits and fashion tips, slowly becoming a bit more refined. Elegant even, she might say.

When she hesitantly asks for help with other things, it's easier each time. Help with skincare routines, or experimenting with make-up, what colors work best and how silhouettes come across. It’s never been this fun to experiment with her style. It helps that Rook, while thinking certain things definitely work, will be gentle in the things that aren’t.

“They do not enhance your beauty,” he says, sounding like Vil, “And you are already magnifique.”

He is the first person that she shares her book of stories with, the precognitions that she has

“Do you think fairy tales are fiction?” He asks her, quietly skimming over the passages of Snow White. The Fairest Queen is barely mentioned, but without her, there is no story.

“Living here feels like a fairy tale, but if it is, you’ve made it a wonderful dream.”

Rook looks at her, a surprised chuckle slipping out. Before he can hide it, his nose crinkles, a smile wide enough to show his gums, and Yuu thinks it enhances all the best of him.

Vil Schoenheit

“Vil, may I ask you a question?”

“At least somebody paid attention when I went over manners. You may.” Vil says, as he adds in some sort of lilac powder. Normally, they wouldn’t have any classes together, but with Yuu acting as an ‘assistant’ towards the teachers to make extra cash, they got to see the second and third years more than even the other first years in their dorms.

“How do you make time for it all? Between the acting jobs, getting good grades in school, indulging in potionology and homebrew makeup in your limited free time, it seems like you get so much done with just as much time as the rest of us.”

“Thank you for noticing.” Vil says, looking up from his potion work. “And yes, I do keep a very organized schedule. Every minute is planned and my down time is spent decompressing efficiently.”

“Is there any articles or techniques you would recommend? Or a template you used?”

“You could just ask me for help, you know.” he retorts, huffing a bit.

“I know I could, but I also want to be respectful of what you have on your plate.”

“Ah, potato...I have plenty of time, especially in this season. I don’t schedule anything this close to finals. Come sit with me this evening for dinner and we will talk goals and progress markers. There is more to this mentally than most people think.”

Vil is a bit less than impressed when he sees just how much Yuu accomplishes for Night Raven College with no credit and makes a note to talk to the teachers and Crowley about getting her properly compensated or at least. But overall, it goes well, making time for exercise, hobbies, studies and even some time with him. Telling her about the techniques he used and actually practicing them were two different things, and some things are just easier to show rather than tell.

“Alright, let’s start here.”

Mindfulness, ironically for somebody outside Scarabina, is important to Vil. Sinking fully into the experience of his daily life, looking at all the colors, enjoying his foods with no screens, or just enjoying the quiet while he removes makeup. His decompress is like a valve that he releases in minutes throughout the day, not hours at the end of it.

“This takes practice. Don’t discourage yourself if you don’t get it every time, eventually it will come more naturally.”

And it does. Over the months, Yuu feels more productive than ever, even finding time to wonder about her own style. It is a bit embarrassing when Vil enters Ramshackle to use the Guest Room to study and sees her hastily trying to wash off eyeshadow.

“Oh, spudling, not your color. No, no, here.” He sits, and teaches, a bit harshly at times, but he wouldn’t be Vil if he wasn’t direct. Much like Riddle, he fully believes that people can reach his level, and sees no reason why they shouldn’t. And while Yuu will never be Vil pretty, she certainly feels more beautiful and confident now than she ever has before.

It isn’t until Vil is reviewing one of his performances that Yuu makes a comment, some offhand remark about the script not quite matching the vernacular expected for the period, that he invites her to sit and review more.

Yuu doesn’t think it’s anything spectular, it’s kind of obvious, but apparently it wasn’t to the rest of the audience.

Vil sits at thier usual tea table in the Night Raven Gardens, and slides a ticket over to her.

“If you have time. I know you recently picked up a few photography jobs in town that would be a shame to miss. Rapport with clients is key, you know.”

It’s the red-carpet event to a 5th year anniversary movie he did as a child. All glitz and glam, showing just how much they have grown as actors and people since their debuts. It’s a milestone even for Vil, the first and only role where he was played a supporting role that wasn’t a villain or antagonist.

“What colors are you wearing? I might have something that compliments.” Yuu asks, already going through their mind for anything suitable in Ramshackle.

“Well,” Vil preens, opening his laptop. “We will just have to buy something together to ensure we match, won’t we? When are you free?”

It’s so small Yuu almost misses it, but hidden underneath his painted blush is a heated blush, quiet and pink and delighted.

Floyd Leech

“Floyd, can I ask you a question?”

Floyd doesn’t even bother looking up from his spot at the table, “Better not be a boring question Shrimpy, or I’ll squeeze ya~”

“Where do you go to get your shoes repaired?”

His head snaps up just a bit, left eye brighter than usual.

“Ace had mentioned that your sole had torn during practice,” Yuu continues, feeling like they have to explain themselves with how intensely he was staring, “But the next day it had been stitched back on like new. There are some fantastic leather boots from the old NRC uniforms that I'd love to use, but I’m trying to find somebody who won’t butcher them or tell me they aren’t repairable just cause there old or out of style, you know?”

Floyd nods, eyes still searching before ultimately just shrugging his shoulders. “Hmmm...at least it wasn’t boring. Meet at Monstro Lounge at 6 lil’ Shrimpy, bring the shoes!”

He walks away before Yuu can even say that they have to meet with somebody else, but that really isn’t a possibility when a Leech brother has demanded your attention. Looks like you’ll have to reschedule with Deuce.

The Monstro Lounge is fairly steady, though Yuu has never seen it slow. Always some sort of deal or exclusive that sets these rich bastards running through the doors, even if it’s just so they don’t have to deal with the lines in the cafeteria or cook their own food.

Jade waves you in, taking the box from your hands in a gentlemanly manner, and leading you to the side. Floyd is quick to intercept, mumbling a thank you before his long strides leave you almost jogging.

“Alright, let’s see what we are working with.”

The dorm is clearly shared between him and Jade. Crisp white walls, a seashell and sea motif on the desk and headboard and some floating shelves that look vaguely like drift wood, exactly what she expected from Octanvinelle. But that’s about all the two sides have in common. Jade’s is organized, of course, but notable is the terrariums on the shelves and a stack of geology books tucked into the corner, along with photos of places he may have been or plans to go.

Floyd’s half is a mess, yes, but it’s organized chaos, like looking at Ace and Deuce’s dorm. High protein snacks are tucked on the shelves, completed 3D puzzles, and...fashion magazines? Huh, he did say that merpeople didn’t really have a reason to wear clothes so land peoples being so obsessed with it would be interesting, especially in different regions or cultures. And the trends are constantly changing. It actually started fitting, the more Yuu thought about it.

Floyd set the box on the desk, picking up the shoes and bending them this way and that, pressing on the heel or pinches the toe.

“You’ve taken good care of them,” He says, “The stitches are loose and the nails need to be hammered back in, but the leather is clean and strong. I’d get some new leather laces though, the wax on these has completely frayed from misuse. How old are these?”

“They're from back when Ezra and the others went to school, but they don’t have a great concept of time.” Floyd raises an eyebrow. “Oh, the ghosts at Ramshackle.”

“Huh, no wonder it felt like the place was trying to kick us out.” Floyd walks over to the walk-in closet and Yuu has to double take. She would have mistaken the closet for Jade’s! On the left, the clothes are hung neatly on the rack except for the everyday items like the basketball or school uniform which have their own spots hung neatly on the door itself. Below that are clear boxes that seem to hold all sort of tools. Are these hobbies that Floyd has picked up and gotten bored with?

But the right side of the walk in closet is just racks and racks of shoes. Wing tip dress, loafers, even a few kitten heels and red backed stiletos. All perfectly shined and displayed.

“Floyd, you repair your own shoes?” Yuu taking the box he hands her.

“When you are as tall as me and Jade, you end up having to customize and fix a lot of your own clothes, unless you wanna pay some stupid prices, and standing there while they pin and stuff is boring. I’d rather just do it myself.” He takes out a wicked looking needle and a stand, securing it to the desk with a flick of a lever. “Which pair is your size?”

“Oh, these.” she says, picking up a pair of loafers and ankle boots. “I can’t afford for you to do this for me Floyd. I don’t have the funds right now.”

He just leans against the table with a laugh, “Oh, I aint doin’ it for free. Your gonna pay me by letting me keep a pair, specifically those.”

He points to the bottom of the box, a pair of thigh high riding boots from what she can tell.

“Those are the ones in the worst shape?”

“Oh, I won’t be able to get them to their original form, but I can lengthen the sole and toe area a bit, add a heel, and have a wicked pair of thighs high stilettos that’ll have even Betta fish jealous~”

“With your legs, you’d look really good in a skirt.”

They both blink.

“Shit, sorry, my mouth ran-” Floyd laughs, something softer than usual.

“Your damn right Shrimpy.” He smiles, “I do look damn good in a skirt. I prefer dresses though.”

He takes a seat, motioning for her to take the other side, sets the shoe inside the stand, and starts explaining the process. It doesn’t always make sense but he’s clearly passionate about it.

This might be a truer version of him, Yuu thinks, seeing him carefully take out a rusted nail to pull out a fresh silver one from an even smaller box. One that isn’t bored or moody, but just...getting able to do something that actually interests him.

“Hey Floyd. Do you want to go thrifting with me and Kalim on Sunday? I think you’d have some interesting things to say about some of the finds, especially the clothes mart. They literally have a bin of vintage pieces for a dollar a piece.”

He leans back, and does that smile again. All teeth but his eyes relax, all boyishly charming.

“You got all the audacity in the world, don’t you?” He chuckles, “I’ll get my shift covered.”

#twst #twst wonderland #disney twst #twisted wonderland #Jade Leech #Floyd Leech #vil schoenheit #Rook Hunt #twst Jade #Twst Floyd #twst vil #twst Rook #twst x reader #Rook Hunt x reader #vil shoenheit x reader #jade leech x reader #floyd leech x reader

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calummss · 1 year ago

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Sweet Ultraviolence | Klaus Mikaelson

masterlist

summary: it was no secret that klaus mikaelson felt for you, but you didn’t, maybe deep down but not enough. so how do you react when the nortorious serial killer gives you the most fucked up surprise?

pairing: fem! reader x klaus mikaelson

words: 4k

a/n: scene taken from the sexiest ahs scene ever. here’s a link !! probably my favourite klaus fic i have written. also smut!! i’ve written smut?? i’m not a smut writer so if it’s bad pretend it never happened….

‘Just because I agreed to this doesn’t mean it means anything.’

‘This date?’

‘Don’t call this a date.’

‘Why?’ Klaus asked,grabbing his wine glass, his gaze sitting on your frame as he sipped the red liquor. ‘We’re at my house, eating a lovely dinner with a beautiful girl. By my definition it is a date.’

‘Please,’ you scoffed, rolling your eyes as you felt the warmth of the fireplace hit your bare skin, engulfing you in a hug. ��You are fully aware of why I am here so let’s not read something into this.’

Sitting at a table with Klaus Mikaelson was not as romantic as it sounded. The dark walls pushing in on you, a dark gaze staring at you, darkness that made up the house. Even the plate of meat, potatoes and vegetables seemed less appetising as they normally would. Maybe it was the blood seeping out of the flesh that made you feel agitated, maybe it was the notorious vampire serial killer that so desperately wanted you to be his.

‘Still,’ he paused for a second, ‘you came.’

You yourself took a sip of the white wine you had mixed with sparkling water, the subtle bitterness biting your tongue, the warm fuzzy feeling of the alcohol leaving a familiar taste of comfort.

‘Klaus, sometimes I think you are so delusional, like how are you functioning?’

‘I function just fine, love.’

‘Get me another one of these,’ you held up your glass, lifting it to your red painted lips to drown the last drop of its contents. ‘And maybe I’ll continue to act like I am loving this dinner date from hell.’ You gave him a wide grin displaying your obvious sarcasm.

Klaus smirked, his twisted smile making your stomach churn. This would be a lot easier if he weren’t attractive but of course the maniac looks like he was carved by Lucifer himself.

‘That’s a tempting offer.’

He barely lifted his hand signalling the compelled boy that he wanted something. ‘Another white wine with sparkling water for my ravishing date, Taylor.’

‘Wow,’ you jested in fake astonishment, ‘so intimidating. Raising your hand, getting whatever you want…do you enjoy it? Getting everything with the snap of your fingers.’

‘Why wouldn’t I?’

‘You compel people to do stuff for you. Don’t you want people to do things because they want to? Care for you?’

‘No one cares about me, love.’ He chuckles, ‘I’m the monster, remember?’

You didn’t reply. You stayed silent, staring at him being the only communication amongst the quiet room, only the cracking of burning wood to be heard. ‘Why do you like me?’ You shoved the potato around your plate, using it to smear the watered down blood across the porcelain.

‘What’s not to like?’ Klaus shrugged his shoulders, leaning back into the chair, the definition of his abs to see seen through the thin material of his shirt.

You looked up from your plate. ‘Just answer the question, please.’

‘You’re like a ray of sunshine on a bad day. When I’m near you I feel you good nature rub off on me—makes me want to stay close. You’re kind even if not to me, you treat everyone the same and give chances to people that probably don’t deserve them. You help when help is needed and disregard yourself for others. You’re beautiful. You smell good, and the fact that I cannot have you makes me want you even more.’

‘I’m not something you can own, Klaus,’

‘I can’t own you love, but I can own your heart if you let me.’

Again you stayed quiet, scared that if you speak he could hear the smitteness in your tone, knowing that for a second he had gotten under your skin.

‘Admit that you are drawn to darkness, Y/n,’ his eyes stared into the most inner part of your soul, ‘even the purest of heart are drawn to it.’

‘I never said I’m not, Klaus,’ you took a sip of wine. ‘I like darkness. The unknown, the excitement…Just because I don’t like your darkness Klaus doesn’t mean I’m denying my thoughts or feelings.’

‘Keep telling yourself that.’

‘You aggravate me.’ You downed the rest of your drink again, setting it down with a loud thud.

‘Makes you more attractive.’

‘Taylor?’ You smiled over at the boy Klaus had compelled for tonight’s dinner, that what you had hoped anyway, ‘Do you by chance have any earplugs, sweetheart?’

Taylor’s eyes grew wide, pressing his lips together as he turned his head towards Klaus for further instructions. Klaus felt his stare but continued to stare at you with a grin.

‘What are you staring at, Taylor? Get the lady some earplugs.’

Taylor left soon after, leaving the two of you alone which made you chuckle at Klaus who didn’t deny your request.

‘What?’ He asked plainly.

‘Nothing.’ You cut a piece of the steak and let the blood coat your tongue, continuing to feel his eyes linger on your for the rest of the night.

A week later and you were back at school. Vacation was over and reality hit. Thankfully you were seeing Mr. Saltzman today. A class you could pay a little less attention to since you sat in the back of the room, daydreaming away. You were too busy talking to friends that you didn’t realise a pair of eyes that stalked you from afar. Eyes watching your every move.

Finishing up the conversation you said your goodbyes to Dana and Heather and turned around to head towards the gym but when you took a step back you collided with a body making them stumble and spill their drink on the floor.

‘Oh my god, I am so sorry. Are you okay?’ You reach out to help Connor find his balance but he slapped away your arms, letting out a deep growl.

‘What is your fucking problem, bitch?!’

‘Excuse me?’ You drew your eyebrows together. It was clearly an accident. Why was he getting so worked up?

‘I said what is your problem?’ He came dangerously close.

‘Hey,’ his friend pulled him back, trying to reassure him that it was an honest accident.

‘You better apologise.’

‘I literally apologised, asshole. How about you pipe down on your ego and take a long second to reevaluate your life? Pathetic.’

Connor’s face turned red, his strength releasing him from his friends grip, his face too close to yours for your liking. ‘I’ve disliked you since I’ve known you, Y/n. Don’t give me more reasons to hate you.’

‘Get a life.’ You laughed out loud.

‘You better watch your back!’

‘Okay, Connor. Will do.’ You called after him as he left the scene,his head turning your way as you cleaned off the few drops of water that caught themselves on your fabric. Chuckling to yourself, you headed the way you were supposed to go and headed towards cheerleading practice, the anger giving you a surge of adrenaline that reassured you that you were going to nail the landing you had failed to complete for weeks.

Klaus had watched the scene from afar, his eyes trailing Connor as he walked past Klaus whose forehead creased, his eyes turning lifeless as he turned around and followed Connor to wherever it was he was heading to.

Practice was good and you were right; you managed to pull off the stunt earning you praise from the coach, letting you know that if you keep up the good work you will be the best cheerleader Mystic Falls ever had. You hated saying it but you lived off of praise. Was there a better feeling than being seen for your hard work and determination? Not really, but that was your opinion. You headed towards the locker room, your red cheer uniform starting to slowly take up some of the sweat from practice. It was late. Everyone went home instead of you. You wanted to perfect the new choreography and stayed long after practice ended. So when you entered the locker room it was dead silent. The squeaking of the locker made you flinch as you placed your water bottle into the side pocket of your bag. You were about to take out your bag to change when you heard the sound of droplets hitting the floor. Wet drops. Only then had you noticed that your feet were also wet. And it wasn’t sweat…it was too much for it to be just that… When you looked up to where the sound was coming from you froze. Staring up at the ceiling just above the lockers, the body of Connor hung from the wall. Broken arms and legs that were twisted inhumane. His intestines spilling from his torso, head hanging from his neck like it was about to fall off. His blood was dripping onto your locker, the smell of blood prominent and not something that could be ignored. As you stared up at him, taking in his lifeless body, a faint smile spread across your lips as you thought back on the scene earlier in the hallway.

‘You like my surprise?’ A voice sounded from behind you and you knew exactly who it was so you didn’t bother to turn around, too fascinated by the body hanging like a spider.

‘You did this?’

You heard his footsteps come closer, his heavy footsteps giving away his exact location whenever he moved, so much that after a few seconds you knew that he was standing right behind you, him too staring at the body.

‘I didn’t like how he talked to you or his lack of respect, his entitlement.’

You rubbed your lips against each other, turning around to slap Klaus across the face, feeling a painful sting across the palm of your hand, grabbing a handful of his shirt and getting up on the bench looking down at him. Vertical wrinkles appeared between his eyebrows, his eyes bigger than before. Fear. Fear that he had fucked up the last chance he had of being with you. Scared that you would never ever look at him again. Fear that he had lost you before he even had you.

You took your finger and slowly dragged it across his face, pulling down his bottom lips as you stared at him. ‘That is the most fucked up thing anyone has ever done for me,’ you stared into his eyes that were still wide, your lack of transparency making him feel sick. ‘That’s so hot.’ You dragged out, taking that fistful of his shirt and crashing your lips onto him, your hands roaming his hair, tugging as you felt him against you. His tongue running across your bottom lip, tasting what he had craved for so long. He continued to place wet kisses down your cleavage, continuing to kiss your legs, holding onto your ankle as he came face-to-face with the blood on your foot. Looking up through his lashes he saw you wipe away a single tear, inhaling the scent of blood before dragging his tongue across the top of your foot, licking the sweet taste of blood. Coming back up to kiss you again, you could feel his hot breath ricochet off your cheeks, his growling making your cunt ache from between your legs as he continued to kiss you.

‘I thought you hated violence.’ He breathed, allowing you to catch your breath.

‘I was wrong.’

‘Does that mean—‘

‘Shut up and kiss me.’

Klaus had never shut up so quickly, pressing his body against yours wanting to be one with you. Ripping off his shirt you felt him against your skin. His fingers curled around the hem of your panties, dragging them down your legs. You curled the finger around your top, ready to take it off but Klaus’ hands shot up to hold them still. ‘Don’t take it off. I want to fuck you in it.’

You suppress a moan as he lowered his head underneath your skirt, feeling his breath on the inside of your thighs, already making your legs tremble. You let out a quiet yelp as you felt his tongue licked your slit, closing his lips around your clit as he started to swirl his tongue around your cunt, sending vibrations through your stomach as you moaned. ‘Fuck,’ your hands grabbed his hair, trying to give yourself some stability. Klaus noticed your legs growing weaker. He picked you up with your legs over his shoulders and laid you down on the blood covered floor, feeling the blood go up your ass. Klaus continued to suck on your clit, concealed groans vibrating against your cunt, the knot in your stomach growing tighter as his tongue focused on your most sensitive spot. You could feel your thighs go numb from holding them up. Your breath becoming shorter the more Klaus dragged his tongue across your cunt, collecting your juices, making you realise you were about to come. You felt your muscles contract, your legs starting to shake as the knot tightened faster than it had ever before.

‘Fuck,’ you pressed air past your lips, ‘please don’t stop.’

Close to coming, Klaus gave one last suck before you felt your stomach explode, squirming underneath him as he continued to flick his tongue over your sensitive clit, making your body shudder with aftershocks.

‘Fuck Klaus, fuck fuck fuck.’

You felt Klaus press a kiss on your cunt before coming out from underneath your skirt, catching your lips so you could taste yoursef.

‘You like this don’t you?’

You nodded.

‘You like the way I touch you?’

You nodded again, feeling his hand make its way down to your cunt again.

‘Stop,’ you breathed, stopping his hand trailing down to your cunt that had craved his touch the moment he stared into your eyes. ‘Let me,’ You slowly dropped to your knees, blood staining them s you reached for his trousers, starting to unbuckle his belt, your fingers slipping off the buckle.

‘What are you doing?’ Klaus let out a suppressed smile, his head hanging low to see your hands undoing his belt, your lips caught between your teeth.

‘I want this.’

‘My cock?’

‘Yes.’ Another deep breath.

‘I thought you hadn't done this before?’

‘I haven’t.’ Having undone his buckle and strap, you grabbed his front pockets and pulled down the rough fabric, the bulge beneath his boxer meeting your eyes, a warm heat spreading through your legs. ‘But how do you know that?’

‘Watching you is my favourite pastime.’

‘You’re fucked up…’

‘So are you, love.’

Taking a gulp, you pulled down his boxers to release his cock that sprang against his stomach. Your breath caught your throat. It’s big. Klaus could feel his pre-cum pumping through him just thinking of your innocent lips tucked around the head of his tip. His chest swelled with air as he trailed his finger down to the base of his cock, twitching under his own touch. Your breath hitched, trying to get as much oxygen into your lungs, as you watched him come towards you, knowing that his size would make it hard to breathe. His hand stroked over his hardened shaft, collecting a small speck of pre-cum. You grabbed his thick pulsing length, a groan leaving his throat as your fingers wrapped around him. You leaned over, carefully licking his tip, slowly building your way to sucking on his head, spitting on it as you wet his pink cock.

‘Fuck,’ Klaus hissed, his dirty blond curls falling back as his hand tangled itself in your hair.

You gagged on his size, but you refused to let go of him, pushing his cock deeper into the back of your throat. Saliva filled your mouth as you focused, moaning against him as he gently started thrust in and out, not wanting to hurt you.

‘So, so eager for me, aren’t you?’ He groaned.

His hands found their way to your hair, pulling your head back, allowing him further access to your throat. A mixture of tears, saliva and cum dribbled from between your lips, but he didn’t seem to mind, deep groans continuing to escape his pink lips. The slight sound of you gagging letting his moans increase in sound.

‘Such a pretty face. Look at you.’ He glanced down, staring into your eyes. ‘You look so good taking my cock. Your first time having a cock down your throat and you’re doing so well.’

A pool of cum was now dripping below you. You couldn’t help it, you were so turned on. You needed him. You need him inside of you soon. Growling, he pushed the head of the shaft past your lips, hitting the back of your throat. Klaus tangled his fingers into your messy hair, eager to push in deeper. You swallowed around his throbbing length, earning a huffed moan. You continue stroking him, your hand gliding along his shaft, your own arousal starring to grow

‘You’re so fucking good at taking my cock,’ he thrusted in and out of my aching mouth. ‘Your first time and you already know how to send me over the edge.’

He pulled out his cock giving you time to breathe. You gasped out for air, before he slid back inside of you. Pre-cum was leaking from his tip, the salty taste mixing in with your own spit. You pulled in your lips around his cock, sucking harder, your tongue pressing up against the head and circling around it. Your lips and throat we’re starting to turn numb, every thrust releasing a tear, every salty tear mixing with the shaft.

‘Look at me,’

Your eyes shot up and stared into his.

‘Fuck, fuck, fuck.’ He moaned loudly before releasing into your mouth; hot jets hitting the back of your throat. ‘Be a doll and swallow.’ He worked hard to suppress a moan, jerking himself through his orgasm. Both of your chests were heavy—you had almost forgotten what breathing felt like. He huffed and dragged his fingers across your face, stroking your cheeks as he stared at you with sparks in his eyes. ‘You did so well, my love.’

Carefully grabbing you by your throat, Klaus pulled you up and swiftly turned you around, his hard cock pressing up against your firm ass as his hands glided over your tits, smearing the blood across your uniform and cleavage; drops of blood running down your chest as you placed your arms behind your head as Klaus started to place kisses again the thin skin on your neck, gently sucking on it, making the hairs on your body stand up.

‘God, you’re so fucking hot.’

You hummed in response, his mouth on your neck making it hard to concentrate.

Klaus brushed the tip of his cock against your slit, teasing you as his moved it along your cunt, adoring the way you whimpered at his slightest touch.

‘I thought you were a gentleman and wouldn’t fuck a girl so shortly after the first dinner.’

‘I’m not a gentleman tonight, my love. You make it hard to control myself,’ Klaus whispered in your ear, sending a chill down your spine that stopped before it reached your toes as he thrusted into your core making you shout out.

‘Oh my god, Klaus. Fuck you feel so fucking good.’

His cock stretched out the walls of your cunt that welcomed him, each thrust slowly adjusting to his size. His lips kept him busy at your neck and collar, leaving trails of dark marks. Hickeys or blood, it was hard to tell. You could feel the blood slowly dry out on your skin, but new blood spread across your body as Connor’s blood continued to seep out of him, letting you and Klaus be covered in his surprise. He began to pump his cock out of you with pace. Your hands grasped his wrist, nails digging into his skin, asking for more. Throwing your head back onto his chest as one hand wrapped around your throat, the other holding your waist.

‘Not satisfied darling?' He smirked against your skin, picking up pace as he pounded into you. Your tits moving with every thrust, the sound of skin filling the locker room.

‘You're so fucking tight.’ He grunted into your neck. 'It's like you were made to take my cock. Look at you, taking my cock like the good girl you are. Who would’ve thought you were so sick and twisted?’ You felt a new bundle tighten in your stomach. ‘Fucking in a school locker room covered in blood. God made me immortal because you are my match. Fuck, you feel so good.’

Those words felt like fireworks exploding inside of your gut.

‘Shit!’ You cried out in ecstasy, as he pulled you into a climax, sending your body over the edge. He kept on thrusting, overstimulating you, until moments later, he reached his high as well, and filled you up with his cum. Klaus stayed inside of you for a few seconds, breathing heavily as a sweat pearl rolled down his forehead, holding you tight in case your legs were to give in.

‘Your body was made for me.’ He huffed. Klaus slid his cock out of you, staring at you, slowly lowering you to the red messy floor, setting you down before laying down next to you, holding his head up with the palm of his hand.

You took a few seconds to breathe, catching your breath as your high started to fade, catching a glimpse of the body up high. ‘You can’t leave that there. I’ve got class at seven in the morning.’ You mused, gazing at Klaus who had blood spread across his chest. He looked so hot you could fuck him again.

‘Don’t worry, love,’ he reached for the bag behind him. ‘I know how to clean up messes. I’ve done this for over a thousand years.’ He placed a cigarette between lips, pulling out a lighter and taking a drag of the hot smoke. He truly was irresistible.

‘Have you killed a lot of people?’

‘Yes.’

You grabbed a knife that laid behind your back, the knife Klaus probably used to cut certain parts of Connor. ‘Would you kill me?’

Klaus took another drag over the cigarette, the smoke making his voice sound deeper than it was. ‘No.’ He shook his head.

‘Would you kill for me?’

Klaus stared up at Connor pointing at him, ‘You have to ask?’

‘There’s this guy, Dean Gabriel. He took away the only person I ever loved.’ You said, staring at the knife, feeling Klaus prop himself up. ‘He violated my sister. Made her feel disgusted, defiled her without her consent. She took her own life because that man ruined her life in twenty minutes. And whilst she is no longer here, he gets to roam around like nothing happened…’

Klaus leaned forward, his voice sounding huskier, ‘Just tell me where he is and he won’t see any more sunrises after I find him.’

Gazing at the knife, you swung your leg over Klaus to straddle him.

‘Promise me he’ll suffer.’ A tear fell down the apple of your cheeks, ‘I want it to be painful.’

‘I promise.’

You lowered yourself to kiss him, your tears mixing with the blood on your face as your heart was finally lighter than it had been for a while. All because of a surprise you enjoyed more than he had anticipated.

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fallstaticexit · 3 months ago

Text

Prev / Next / Beginning / Pillowfort

AN: As a heads up, I do not have anything scheduled for the rest of the week. I could post but I'll give a notice :) otherwise, we will return Monday 8-14 (if you know me, I probably won't even wait that long lolol)

Transcript under the cut

Nancy Narrates: [I never felt more terrified in my entire life. I could hardly look at him at first. I almost couldn’t bare to hold him, I thought I would break him]

Geoffrey: He’s beautiful. I can’t believe we made something so perfect.

Nancy: [voice wobbles] He’s so tiny... innocent. I don’t want to ruin him.

Geoffrey: You won’t. You’ll be an amazing mother.

Nancy: It’s not like I grew up with the best example of one. What if he hates me?

Geoffrey: Look at how he’s already looking at you. He’s 3 hours old and he’s looking at you like you’re the love of his life. You’ll be great, Nance. We’re going to love him together, our Zachary.

Nancy: I was thinking. I’d like to name him after my brother.

Geoffrey: Oh yeah? Nathan?

Nancy: [hums] Jonathan.

Geoffrey: [smiles] Jonathan Landgraab. I love it.

Geoffrey: Hello Mrs. Landgraab. Thank you for coming.

Queenie: I wouldn’t miss the birth of my first grandson. Chester, however, sends his regards; he had a last minute meeting with a client.

Queenie: My, he is stunning. He looks just like my Nathan.

Geoffrey: We’ve named him after him. His name is Jonathan.

Queenie: [softly] I see.

Queenie: [to herself] I’ll do right by you, Jonathan.

Nancy Narrates: [When I did look at him, I couldn’t stop. He was beautiful. I counted nearly every eyelash. I kissed every single little toe on each foot. I was mesmerized]

Nancy Narrates: [How did I create something so utterly perfect]

Nancy: [whispers] I don’t know what I’m doing, Jonathan but I’ll figure it out. Bare with me.

Nancy Narrates: [ Turns out, I had alot to learn. Motherhood did not come to me as easily as fatherhood did to Geoffrey]

Nancy Narrates: [Jonathan was always regarding me so curiously, and I him. I’ve never interacted with children until I had one of my own. I hardly knew how to talk to them]

Nancy: Oh. Hello. So, what would you add to this lobby to make it look less sterile?

Jonathan: [coos]

Nancy: Natural materials? What are we thinking, wood or stone?

Jonathan: [gurgles]

Nancy: Can I tell you a secret? Your grandmother drives me crazy. Can you believe she mocked my blueprints in front of the entire department? What would she know anyway, she went to school for journalism for fuc- for flip sake.

Jonathan: [babbles wildly]

Nancy: [scoffs] Exactly!

Nancy: Goodness, you’re greedy. You’re like your father. You’re actually a lot like him. You’re sweet; you’re silly. You’re nothing like me, are you? That’s a good thing. I want you to be more like Geoffrey. That’s your father’s name, by the way. I don’t know if you knew that.

Nancy Narrates: [When it came to fatherhood, Geoffrey was a natural]

Nancy Narrates: [They were made for each other]

Nancy Narrates: [And began to feel softer every time I looked at them]

Nancy: What did I say about dressing him?

Geoffrey: Heh. Don’t. Don’t dress him.

Nancy: Exactly. He can’t go with my mother dressed like this. I’ll never hear the end of it.

Geoffrey: But he looks so cute.

Nancy: He does but that’s besides that point.

Nancy Narrates: [I was smitten. Everything felt perfect just the way it was. This was certainly the life I signed up for-]

Nancy: [retching, coughing]

Jonathan: Mommy?

Geoffrey: Yeah bud, sounds like Mommy’s not feeling too good. Hey, Nancy? Are you ok in there?

Jonathan: Mommy kay?

Nancy: Oh, for the love for fucking-

Nancy: GOD!!

Nancy: RAAHH! If you get me pregnant again I will kill you, Geoffrey! I swear to god I’ll kill you!

Geoffrey: [nervous chuckles] No Nancy Jr. then, huh?

Nancy: Shut up, shut up, shut up!!

Nancy Narrates: [And before I knew it, we were a family of 4]

Malcolm: [wails]

Nancy: What’s wrong? Why is he still crying?

Queenie: Well, he’s certainly your son, Nancy. You drove your father and I mad with your colicky cries.

Nancy: I did this to him?

Geoffrey: [softly] No, someone’s just having a rough time adjusting to the outside world, that’s all. Hey, Malcolm! It’s mommy and daddy! Your big brother is here! You two are going to be the best of pals, I just know it.

Nancy: Look, Jonathan. This is your brother, Malcolm.

Jonathan: Ew!

Geoffrey: [chuckles] He’s not ew, son. He’s a baby. He’s just a little fussy right now.

Nancy: Do you really think we can handle two children under 2 years old?

Geoffrey: Hey, if there’s anyone who can do it, it’s us. It’s me and you.

Nancy: [sighs] Ok. Me and you.

Jonathan: [screeching] EW!

Malcolm: [screams]

Nancy: Geoffrey do something!!

Geoffrey: Oh! Oh, damn it- Hey! That’s enough!

#the art of being seen #tw child birth #Nancy talking to her baby like an adult always sends me lol #I also didn't baby talk my baby and she's was very well spoken as a toddler #the sims 4 #sims 4 story #ts4 simblr #sims 4 stories #the landgraabs

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germanpostwarmodern · 2 months ago

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The built manifestations of Brutalism, despite their omnipresence on social media, remain controversial: especially in Europe they are loved by some and hated by many. In other parts of the world opinions aren’t as polarized and Brutalism simply a part of the built environment, e.g. in Japan. Okinawa-based photographer Paul Tulett has been exploring the Japanese brutalist heritage for years and in his new book „Brutalist Japan“, recently published by Prestel, points to the particular appeal concrete had in postwar Japan: it offered seismic safety, was resistant to termites and easy to pour in form and via the shuttering boards also left room for the skilled Japanese wood crafts. At the same time the Japanese tradition for leaving natural materials rough and raw played in the hands of „béton brut“ that, as Tulett explains, became „béton nécessaire“.

The former’s gradual aging and the acceptance thereof agains roots in Japanese tradition, i.e. the concepts of „wabi sabi“ and „mono no aware“ which embrace the beauty of imperfection and describe the ambivalent awareness of the fleeting nature of beauty. Against this background and Tulett’s introduction to Japanese philosophies it becomes easier to understand why Brutalism is a lot less controversial in Japan than it is in other parts of the world and never disappeared. Accordingly the buildings gathered in „Brutalist Japan“ date from the 1950s to the present day and offer a comprehensive panorama of Brutalism in Japan: in brilliant photographs Tulett shows classics like Kenzo Tange’s Hiroshima Peace Memorial Museum (1955) and Setagawa Ward Office (1959) or Le Corbusier’s National Museum of Western Art (1959) but also a plethora of little-known buildings. And they are compelling: the fortress-like Tanimura Art Museum (1983) by Togo Murano, the Keihan Uji Station (1995) by Hiroyuki Wakabayashi or the Okinawa Prefectural and Art Museum (2007) by Ishimoto and Niki Associates demonstrate the masterful use of raw concrete while also dealing with Japanese history and traditions.

This beautifully crafted mix of buildings makes the book a great read and an eye-opening survey of Japanese Brutalism. Highly recommended!

#architecture #japan #brutalism #architecture book #book #prestel

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elysianightsss · 10 months ago

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I have a request: how would the Techno react if Reader dies but appears a few months later alive but very injured?

Now this inspired me.

Warnings: 18+, angst, suicide mentioned, hints at nsfw, blood, alternate timeline where she was never pregnant; adding Athena and Apollo into this would have made me cry so no.

————————————————————————

Techno was distraught, it was against his nature to love and be loved and yet you taught him how. You were his everything and more. From the moment you shot him in those woods all that time ago, when the voices went quiet when your face came into his eyesight, everything changed for him.

He loved you more than life itself, so when Phil broke the news to him that you were dead, he lost it. Standing in the living room of the home you had shared together, rage burned through him, his shaking hands ripping, shoving, destroying. By the time he was done, Phil had witnessed something he thought he’d never see.

Techno was weeping, sobbing, screaming for you. A broken man wanting the only thing he couldn’t have. For months Techno barely ate, barely slept, contemplated suicide daily. How could he live without you? Why would he even want to? Without you there was no meaning to his life. It was like a huge hole had been punched through his chest.

The absence of you was everywhere he looked, the little touches you had slowly added to the house over the years. Your perfume, oils and lotions on the white vanity in the corner of the room. Techno remembers vividly, when you had talked about wanting one and he worked for weeks to build and paint one you’d love. He sat for hours carving intricate designs onto the legs and around the mirror just for you.

The wardrobe filled with your clothes, the beautiful materials you covered your body with, he was always envious of them, they got to touch you all the time. Dresses hanging there that hugged your figure perfectly, that made his heart beat faster.

The bathroom filled with your sweet bath oils and bath salts, countless times he had come home from fighting and you drawn him a bath and washed him clean. Countless times had he taken you apart in the sweet smelling waters and steamy room.

The bed was the hardest to deal with, it reeked of you. The mouthwatering smell he wanted nothing more than to roll around in, it was always present when he slept. It was a slight comfort to him, but always left him distraught. He thought about sleeping downstairs but had to remind himself that he had destroyed the couch.

More time passed, around six months now since Phil had told him about your death. He was a hollow shell of himself, he had lost a lot of weight and always had dark bags under his eyes. He was surprised he was still breathing.

“Techno!” Phil had screamed, a dreaded, fear filled, confusion dripping scream. Techno sighed, it took so much energy out of him to simply stand. Feet practically dragging along the floor, he shuffled to the front door sparing a longing look to his axe of peace. Whatever was on the other side of his door was dangerous if Phil’s scream was anything to go by, and he was happy to let whatever it was kill him.

Opening the door and stepping out onto the wood panels just before the stairs that led down to the snow, red cloak and gold crown nowhere in sight, The Blood God isn’t who stepped out to fight, but a broken man ready to die.

That all changed the second he saw you. You who had been dead for six months, you who he had mourned for six months, you who was bruised and covered in cuts with blood dripping from them. You who looked just as starved and exhausted as Techno did, in fact you looked worse.

“Sweetheart?” Techno’s voice cracked as he uttered the term of endearment he hadn’t spoken in so long.

“Tec.” Your voice was small and fragile, your hand reaching for him. The clothes you wore were torn and certainly not enough to keep you warm in the freezing cold snow you had trekked in to get home.

He ran to you, feet moving quicker than they ever had before all so he could take you in his arms and hold you close. “I’ve got you darlin’, I’ve got you, hold on to me.” He used all his strength to help you into the house, Phil running to your aid too.

You took in the state of your home and honestly it was alot better than what you had expected. Glancing at your husband, he avoided eye contact sheepishly, normally it would have made you smile. You don’t even think you know how to do that anymore.

“Let’s uh, get you upstairs.” Phil said awkwardly, helping Techno carry you up into your bedroom, and onto the bed. You sighed in pure relief that you body didn’t have to hold itself up anymore, that you weren’t on a nasty cold stone floor too but the soft, Techno smelling, mattress you had been dreaming of for six months.

You were so happy you cried. You cried ugly, hard, loud. Letting all your emotions out. Techno was there stroking your filthy, greasy hair and holding your dirty, sore hand. “Sweetheart?”

“I’m just so happy, I thought this day would never come. I had convinced myself that it wouldn’t. And yet here I am. Home.” You sobbed out the words, looking at your husband through your tears blurred eyes, just about making out the crooked smile on his gorgeous face.

He wanted to ask what had happened, wanted to know who had done this to you. But just seeing your relief to being in a bed, to being home, he knew you’d need time.

Phil went home after Techno had asked him to, they agreed not to tell anyone you were back until they figured out what had happened to you and by who.

Techno ran you a bath and took extra time and care into washing you off, he had to pull you out of the disgustingly mucky water and run you a new bath. This one you could soak in, allow yourself to relax, even when the clear water did dirty again, only a little this time though.

You saw the look in Techno’s eyes as he washed you and you knew, remembering the vow he made to you all those years ago; “I love you, it took me a while to say it I know. But I need to know you understand—“

“Understand?” You asked.

“How much I love you. I’d destroy empires for you. Pillage country’s for you. Kill for you.” He pressed his forehead to yours. “If anyone ever even thought about hurting you, they’d be dead before they could finish that thought.” He growled, deep from within his chest. The ruby of his eyes shining brighter the more he talked about it.

“I understand.” Of course you did. You knew from the moment you said ‘I do’ exactly what that meant.

“You’re going to kill him aren’t you?” It was a question you knew the answer to but you still felt compelled to ask nonetheless.

“Yes.”

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denial-permanente · 2 months ago

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Hey how are you? Big fan of your page and content. At the beginning of this year I confessed to my girlfriend of 6 years that I have a chastity fetish and I wanted her to lock my member up while we had our “fun time”. Surprisingly she was very open to the idea and we soon incorporated a chastity cage into our sex life. It has been amazing. It has opened a new side to me that I never knew existed. It took a bit of getting used to for the both of us but over time we have come to adore it. A majority of the time we have sex now my girlfriend instructs me to put my cage on before we begin.

A couple of weeks ago I brought up the idea of wearing the chastity cage for a longer period of time rather than only during our fun time. She interested with the idea but she believed it impossible.

For a little bit of context, we live together but due to work I’m only home from Friday nights when I get off of work till Monday mornings when I have to leave for work again.

Knowing this my girlfriend had quite a handful of concerns.

1. Her absolute biggest concern was she believed there was no way I could properly clean myself down there while locked in a cage. She says that wearing the cage for longer than a few hours at a time would be extremely de-hygienic and nasty.

2. Her next biggest concern is that since we only really see each other 2 days a week she thinks that there’s too much time between us seeing each other. “what if you NEED to get the cage off on a Monday, like an incident happens at work but we’re nowhere near each other and you have to wait all the way till Friday when you see me again?”

Because of this concern I tried to negotiate with what if I wore it during the weekends when I’m home. But then she rebuttals with “you basically already do so what difference would it make?”

3. A smaller concern for her is she is uncertain of the risks that come with wearing a chastity cage for long periods of time. An example she said was “what if you wore the cage for too long and your dick started to shrink?” I tried to tell her that that was just a myth but she seemed pretty adamant.

I guess my question is do you have any advice on what to do in this type of situation? Any words of wisdom that I could tell her in order to ease her mind about this? She says she would love to at least give it a try but she’s far too concerned about all the things that could go wrong. She says she thinks wearing a chastity cage for longer periods of time is just too unrealistic and isn’t possible.

It’s something that I’d love to do so should I try to talk to her about it again or just give up on the idea?

Believe it or not, I am probably like your girlfriend in that I worry about the practical aspects. For a very long time I would worry about what if my husband had an accident, or what if he had to remove it and didn't have the key. Even now, 25 years later I still sometimes worry if I know he's doing something dangerous like working on the roof or hiking in the woods or something. All I can say is that those concerns eventually get less and less concerning as time goes on and wearing a cage becomes second nature to the both of you.

I will let @that-tom-allen answer the part about hygiene and shrinkage, but in all these years that has never been a problem. I'm sure he can explain it better. I can tell you that I don't ever remember him having any issues.

A lot of men seem to want to rush into being lockedn24/7. Your girlfriend is being cautious and concerned. If she has a Tumblr account please have her message me for questions or even just moral support.

🔏 Tom here. First, as @mrs--edge wrote, if possible have your gf drop by to ask her soenof these questions directly. You can create an account for her, she doesn't need to be posting anything. Actually, considering some of the chastity related material on Tumblr, maybe you don't want her looking at too much. 😏

I don't know what kind of cage you have. My routine is to shower at night, and let things air dry. Then in the morning I put a dab of Gold Bond cream inside and swab it around with a Q tip. The cream is water soluble and will pick up body oil, sweat, stray urine, etc., and will wash out easily in a hot shower.

It also helps to have a tiny brush to swab around some soapy water inside the cage during your shower. I almost never need to unlock my cage to clean.

Now, about the shrinkage. I have a post on here about that. Check the FAQ for more detail, but here's the quickie: shrinkage is a myth, usually written about by guys who have SPH fetishes. The penis is not a muscle, and does not atrophy like muscle. It is mainly a meat hydraulic tube of connective tissue and blood vessels. Shrinkage is mainly a factor of the hydraulic balloons not having a chance to stretch out. Removing the cage and getting a few days of, err, healthy exercise should be sufficient to bring things back to size.

#chastity question

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witchpassing · 5 months ago

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there's a flock of feral dolls living in the woods on the outskirts of town here. i drive out that way every morning when i go to work and i always try to go a little slower with the window down to see if i can hear any of those silly little noises they make. no luck yet though, i think they're scared of cars :(

i've been thinking about adopting one, actually! i know dolls need lots of love from their owners, but do they bond with each other too? i live in a tiny apartment so i only have space for one. i'd feel awful if i accidentally took one away from all its friends...

(collective nouns for dolls: flock, cotillion, rustle, inventory.)

thank you for your question, anon! always a pleasure to be of use.

dolls most certainly do bond with one another! in fact, many are so prone to pair-bonding that curation and pruning of their tangled interrelationships is often an important part of maintaining a harmonious domestic hierarchy. if you will permit this doll to speak freely, your consideration of this feral group's needs in this regard reassures it as to your suitability as a dollkeeper.

as to whether or not there may be a doll suitable for adoption in this flock, the wants of stray dolls are not to be generalised upon. one feral may long for the stability of redomestication, while, beside it, its sister take prides in her ability to live an independent life, despite the deprivations involved. the only thing to do is to begin to make an approach, slowly and non-threateningly, and see which of your local strays - if any - responds.

this one recommends that you travel to the aforementioned wooded area on foot - as you have observed, strays may find the loud noise of a motorcar engine rather nerve-wracking - and have a look around. you should be able to discern the areas of the woods frequented by the flock relatively easily; keep an eye out for simple sigils cut into tree bark or scratched into loam, scraps of fabric caught on low-hanging branches, witch effigies, things of that nature. don't linger too long, though - for now, you are only here to offer a gift! most feral cotillions will be very appreciative of maintenance materials such as cloth, mechanical oil, sewing implements, and uncooked meat.

repeat this process once or twice a week, varying your gifts in response to what seems more or less popular. as time goes on, you may begin to linger a little longer in the flock's territory, but do not make the first approaches yourself. strays, even those secretly longing to be caught, seldom appreciate being looked for. wait, and see what comes.

should the flock never deem you safe enough to approach and your efforts come to nothing, well... you will have offered aid to some very hard-done-by-creatures and spent several afternoons in the woods, and possibly you may have seen some deer. which is not such a terrible thing, really.

#enquiries

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amanda-519 · 3 months ago

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Clementine's song in Songs of Origin is so interesting to me!! I had to theorize about what it means. Do spoilers for the song!! I'm going to analyze each and every lyric to understand what Clementine's childhood was like.

Starting off with the lyrics:

"Bird cage blue and yellow"

The lyrics start off with a bird cage, something that traps which is supposed to be free. I think in this song the bird cage is Clem's old home, and bird, in a sense, is them. I think the entrapment is more emotional than physical, but I'll get into that soon.

As for "blue and yellow" I think it symbolizes opposing emotions, like blue for sadness and happiness for yellow. Maybe it describes how sometimes Clemie was happy in the house (but still trapped) and sometimes sad.

"Candles warm and windows bare" continue on his dual nature. The candles bring warmth, but the bare windows suggest that Clem felt vulnerable, or isolated. It represents warmth but also exposure/emptiness.

"Tracing upturned smiles of portraits/drawn to disappear" the first line could be read in two ways I think. The first is that Clemie is tracing the smiles on portraits because they don't feel happy/feel that it's fake. Like, that the smiles are fake or forced, and that outside of the portraits they disappear.

And my other interpretation is Clemie's family used to be happy, but maybe something happened (like a death) and the smiles that once existed in the photos are now gone, ans Clemie is reminiscing on them.

"Flowers never talk, they never want/they never need" this line suggests to me that Clemie was seen as a flower. Pretty, but neglected (which is more clear in the next verse).

"In a cradle gilded, they are left/to rot yet never bleed" again I think in the song Clemie is the flowers. They were treated as something precious but neglected. I think the neglect is mainly emotional, since the sing also has themes of isolation. Like Clemie was left alone or maybe even isolated from other people.

I also think the "never bleed" line is about how Clemie wasn't supposed to show their pain. Like they're been "left to rot" yet they're expected to "never bleed" (show pain)

"Eyes of silver, mirror, mirror/Thread on wood and steel" These lines actually threw me a bit. Clemie has silver eyes, and this is a shot in the dark, but maybe Clemie's parent(s) also have silver eyes, and the "mirror, mirror" part is the parent seeing themselves in Clemie, and thus thinking they are beautiful, but neglecting them or keeping them away from their peers?

I'm not quite sure what "Thread on wood and steel" is supposed to mean. Maybe something mechanical that contrasts with Clemie's natural association with flowers?

Maybe it's about how Clemie was woven into a harsh, unfeeling life?? Like, wood and steel being harsh materials, and how the rest of the song is about how Clemie was controlled in their previous environment.

"Keep what can be kept" this ties to into my (mostly unfounded) theory that Clemie is the child of a dead parent, and their other parent, in a effort to preserve the dead parent, is "keeping" them, maybe even putting them in a glided cage, something pretty but still a cage, in a effort to protect them?

"And heave to see which one will kneel" this line suggests some kind of fight for control. Maybe Clemie eventually got sick of living in a glided cage and tried to fight back?

"I've been told to wait/but why should there be silence" finally! A less ambiguous line. Maybe Clemie, after getting tried of living in a glided cage, rebelled, and was told to wait/be slient. I'm not quite sure what they're being told to wait for, though. Maybe it's more of a general dismissal, like "ask me about this later" when "later" being "never".

"Dawning pretty laces/Weaving capes of gold/and framing muffled faces" these lines tie into the rest of the songs themes, with beauty, weaving, gold, and being silenced.

I think Clemie's parent(s) had a lot of money, and thus they lived a life of "luxury". They were seen as something pretty, like a flower, and wore pretty laces and gold, but their issues were silenced (muffled).

"I can be different" this line suggests a breaking of a cycle. Maybe, since Clemie's family was rich, they were expected to act a certain way, and this is them claiming that they're allowed to be different from their family.

"I can't be puppeted!" (Funnily, I actually missed this line the first time I wrote this out because I was going off the description lyrics, and the description is missing this lyric).

Pretty self explanatory. Clemie is saying that they can't be controlled. This is they fully fighting against their "gilded cage".

"Garden evergreen/was what I thought I would see" garden symbolism, which ties into Clemie's nature/flower symbolism. Maybe when Clemie was young they liked their home, but as they were controlled more and more, and isolated, it became both "yellow" and "blue". But they once saw it as a place of peace/growth.

"Branches meet my steps/their kisses open up ravines" As Clemie walks through their home, now feeling controlled, they find branches. Maybe the "garden evergreen" they once pictured has died, and all that is left are branches.

"Their kisses" could represent their family or parent(s). How they might try to comfort Clemie, but all it does it create a bigger wedge (ravine) between them.

"Fences frozen in a dance/they're yet to perform" this could symbolize how rigid Clemie's old life was. I was pretty stuck on what "fences" could represent.

A wall between them and the outside world? A boundary? A barrier?

And how that ties into the rest of the line/song.

Like did Clemie feel like they had barriers in their previous life that made them frozen? What about "in a dance"?

I eventually settled on the idea that this line implies tension between freedom and restriction. A fence is a boundary, but it's ready to move/dance, but it's frozen. It's yet to preform, but it wants to.

"I leave the house and the Baroness/buried in before" this all but confirms that Clemie came from a house with money, maybe they're the child of a baroness?

Or, it might not be so literal, with the baroness simply being Clemie's mother that is strict on them, playing the part of a baroness.

The "buried in before" line represents Clemie leaving behind their old life.

The line "Finndu mig í framtíðinni", according to Google translate, means "find me in tbe future". This could be Clemie saying that they have completely abandoned their previous life, that you will only find them in the "future".

"Rödd eins og bjalla/heldur okkur öruggum/ frá framtíðinni" means "A voice like a bell/keeps us safe/from the future" this line is really interesting to me.

The "voice like a bell" represents, to me at least, the Bellringer, someone Clemie feels a connection to and looks up to. Though I'm not sure "keeps us safe/from the future" in this context means, why would Clemie need to be kept safe from the future? If what they're left buried is the past? Maybe Clemie just feels anxious about the future.

In conclusion, to me Clemie's song tells the story in which they grew up in a rich house (maybe even as a child of a baroness). They were seen as pretty, but emotional neglected by their family and isolated.

At first Clemie liked their life, but as they grew up and their family became more controlling, they found that their life wasn't "evergreen". They started having conflicting emotions about their life, feeling trapped inside a glided cage, but still warm.

Until it becomes too much and they start rebelling against their family, until they finally run away.

What do you think? If you have any ideas/thoughts, please send me an ask or reblog with your thoughts!! I loved the new songs so much!! Who knows, I might even do something similar for Cole's song!

#yaelokre #yaelokre clementine #yaelokre clemmie #yaelokre songs of origin #songs of origin

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kitten4sannie · 2 years ago

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19 - ᴅᴏᴜʙʟᴇ ᴘᴇɴᴇᴛʀᴀᴛɪᴏɴ - ʏᴜɴʜᴏ/ꜱᴀɴ

ꜱʜᴀʀɪɴɢ ɪꜱ ᴄᴀʀɪɴɢ

pairing: vampire! yunho x witch! reader (fem) x werewolf! san

genre: fantasy au, smut, a little baby pinch of humor 🤏🏼

summary: you teach your bickering boyfriends to get along with a fun group activity.

w.c: 3.5k

warnings: poly relationship (it’s a work in progress), mxm, dom! yunho, dom! san, sub! reader, olfactophilia, pet names, name calling, degradation, praise, lots of spit involved (surprise, surprise), oral (receiving), breeding kink, slight bulge kink, fingering, kissing, double penetration in both holes (unprotected), creampies

a/n: after i finished typing this up it was like niagara falls in this bitch 😵‍💫 jshdgdhd so it’s safe to say i might’ve actually gone insane this time <3

FFF Masterlist

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As a witch attending a magic academy, it was only natural that you’d encounter supernatural beings of all kinds. Ones that were bigger and stronger than you. More powerful and a lot more equipped when it came to spell casting. Despite this, you felt like you knew enough about the dark arts to take care of yourself. Whether it came to emotional conflict or actual threats of danger, you could handle it without issues. Though things became difficult in a way you never anticipated.

Halfway through the semester, you decided to open yourself up to two new lovers, ones that were having a hard time getting along — though it was sort of expected. One was a ravenous, moody werewolf and the other was a haughty, refined vampire. They were like night and day. Their clans were mortal enemies, only tolerating each other because they weren't allowed to break the strict laws that were enforced throughout the land, or else they faced governmental punishment. Maybe you didn’t think it all the way through, but then again, you were happy and so were they, but they just needed a little help adjusting to each other.

Lazing around in the unmade bed of your rowdy, rambunctious boyfriend, you buried your face into one of his pillows, inhaling his comforting scent. Strong accents of warm spiced cinnamon entered your system, along with the musky-sweet smell of leaves. He must’ve been rolling around in the woods near the academy again. How cute of him. You slowly turned over to look at the door when you heard a voice that was too light and sultry to be his.

“There you are, Darling.” Yunho sighed, stepping past the open dorm door, taking three large strides across the room, already near your side and running his long, cold fingers up the side of your bare figure. “Why are you at this clan’s house instead of mine?” His nose scrunched up for a second, not used to the musk of werewolf dens. “You said that you were coming to see me today.”

“Hey, Yunnie.” When he sat down on the bed, you reached up to run your fingers up his perfectly ironed, gold-laced button up blazer, unbuttoning the first button to see his chest peak out underneath. “I was going to, but San wanted me to stay longer. He just had a collar delivered, and he wanted me to see it.”

Yunho’s friendly disposition soured at the mention of the werewolf, watching you unbutton the second and third button on his top, but not acknowledging it. “Once that mutt is done with his little show and tell, you’ll come to my dorm so I can have you to myself, alright?”

“You have to learn to share, baby...” Just as you were going to express your disapproval of the word ‘mutt’, someone beat you to it.

“Mutt?” San stood in the doorway, his large canines already on display for Yunho to see. Not wasting a single second, he slammed the door behind him, pounced on the bed behind you and pulled your body back against his broad bare chest, his muscular arms wrapping protectively around you. “You come into my clan’s home unannounced looking like an undead Englishman, insult me, then you try to steal my Y/N? Are you trying to die?!”

“Undead Englishman? This is made of the finest material a dog like you could only dream of wearing.” Yunho scoffed, rolling his bright crimson eyes at the other male, still not saying anything when you continued to unbutton his blazer.

“Call me a dog again,” San threatened in a raspy voice, leaning over your naked body to growl in Yunho’s face, his golden irises forming into slits. “Say it so I can see if you can still talk after I rip your vocal cords out of your throat.”

Wanting to prevent a catastrophic fight from breaking out, you reached up towards San, playing with the shiny new leather collar that adorned his freckled neck. “Sannie, this is so cute! You look so handsome with your new collar~”

San’s large black ears flattened slightly into his wild raven hair, his anger melting away within seconds. “Handsome?” he questioned, slowly lowering himself onto the bed, his half-clothed body pressing into yours, nuzzling your neck with the side of his head. “Do you really mean that?

You ran your fingers through his hair, stroking the tip of one of his ears, causing him to let out a low whine, his tail wagging a bit. “Of course, silly…You’re my very handsome boy~”

“Yay,” San murmured softly, a light blush forming on his angular cheekbones, his fluffy tail wrapping around one of your thighs. “I’m Y/N’s handsome boy, Yunho. Not you.” He stuck his tongue out at the vampire, ears twitching slightly, feeling more playful than bloodthirsty.

“Sannie, baby, Yunho’s handsome too. Try to get along with him, okay? Can you do that for me?” you asked in a gentle voice, pressing your lips to San’s neck just above the collar and stroking his velvety tail, making him nod and whine again, sounding more needy.

Yunho chuckled, taking one of your hands and running his thumb over your knuckles. “That’s all it takes, huh? What a simple creature.”

You turned your head to shoot the vampire a fiery look, gritting your teeth. “Yunho, don’t start that up. Or else.”

“Or else, what, my lovely plaything?” the vampire asked in a low tone, undoing the last button on his blazer and sliding it off, his chiseled porcelain body now on display.

“I’m surprised he’s not sparkling like in that one movie you showed me a couple weeks back,” San murmured into your ear, making you hold a finger up to his lips to shush him.

Not caring to listen to the werewolf’s comment, Yunho laid down on the bed to press himself against your bare backside, his half-hard cock against your ass and his lips near your ear. “Or else what, princess? Or else you won’t let me fuck you until you’re too dick-drunk to function?” He feigned a small pout, nudging your neck with his nose and running his fangs across it, trying to ignore how much San marked you that particular night. “I thought you loved that.”

Taking notice of Yunho’s scent, which was giving off strong notes of oak aged vanilla, with small hints of citrus, you licked your lips and slowly exhaled when he just barely punctured your neck with his fangs. You didn’t bother stopping him from sliding a hand past your hip and in between your legs, allowing him to brush his fingers over your clit. “If you don’t stop being mean to San, I’ll put a spell on you that’ll make you hard forever…”

“Mm, but you’d like that, wouldn’t you, Darling?” he returned, licking the blood that dribbled from your neck, causally slapping San’s hand away when he tried to play with your pussy as well, causing him to growl. “You’d let me fuck you day in and day out, wouldn’t you?”

Leaning your head back and turning Yunho’s jaw to face you, you pressed kisses along his jaw, replying, “Only if you learn to share your plaything.” When he licked his lips, you grabbed the vampire’s hand to keep it still, allowing San to slip two large fingers inside you to scissor them apart, then quickly pump them in and out. “Yeah, that’s it, Sannie, just like that. Good boyyyy,” you addressed your other boyfriend, giggling at the werewolf’s toothy grin, his tail thumping against the mattress from your praise. Acknowledging Yunho’s twitching fingers, you let his hand go, looking down to watch their hands begin to work in tandem with one another, supplying you an intoxicating amount of pleasure.

With your lower half lifted up into the air with your left leg hiked up over one of San’s solid shoulders, he rubbed and grabbed at your hickey-covered ass, sucking and licking at the bottom half of your slick cunt from in front of you. “Mmn, Y/N, so sweet…” he mumbled against your mound, slowly slurping up your arousal and spitting it back out, then moving the dripping mess around with his fingers. With his back towards you, Yunho sat on his knees facing San, clutching the inside of your other thigh and keeping it out of his way, his mouth latched onto you, swiping at your throbbing clit with his long forked tongue.

“F-uuuck, that feels good,” you breathed out, grabbing and pulling at the sheets, barely able to handle the visual of Yunho and San both lapping at your cunt, the vampire administering longer, steadier strokes with his tongue, which was quite different from the way the werewolf was licking your soaked folds and salivating on your slit like you were a juicy steak he was about to devour. “Oh my god, I’m gonna cum…”

“Cum, baby,” they answered in unison, their voices low and gravelly, both consumed with their lust for you, not even caring when their tongues began to overlap. Yunho glanced up at San, his wide tongue spreading out over the expanse of your cunt, swiping from your clit down to your pulsing hole. Eyes narrowed, San pushed two fingers inside you to make you feel full, rubbing your g-spot in a way that made you cry out desperately from the intense pleasure. “Cumming! I’m cumming…!” you yelled out, tears stinging the corners of your eyes from how overstimulated you were becoming. San pulled his creamy fingers out of you, but continued licking your cunt to collect your cum, until his tongue started to drag up and down Yunho’s, their spit mixing together with the influx of arousal.

“Give me,” the vampire mumbled, grabbing the werewolf’s hand and bringing it to his mouth to lick the thick strings of cum and spit from his spread fingers. San watched with glazed-over eyes, leaning in to lick at his own fingers as well, their tongues entwining now and then. Yunho slurped the mixed fluids up into his mouth and grabbed San by the jaw, spitting it onto his tongue. “You like that, huh?” the vampire questioned, chuckling when San nodded, watching with interest as the werewolf started to let a thick wad of spit drip down his chin, encouraging Yunho to lap it up and swallow it down.

You whimpered softly from what was occurring in front of you. Not only was it the hottest thing you’ve ever seen in your life, it felt almost orgasmic to witness your boyfriends finally getting along in such a filthy way.

Once they were both satisfied, they simultaneously licked their lips and pulled out their heavy, throbbing cocks from the confines of their pants. They had a stare-down for a while, ravenous and thirsty for you, wanting to bury themselves deep inside your cunt as quickly as possible. Yunho spoke up first, claiming, “I made her cum when I sucked on her clit, so I should get to fuck her first.”

San shook his head, countering, “She came once I finger-fucked her, so it’s actually my turn.”

Yunho peered at the werewolf, about to argue with him when you interrupted him, “Just fuck me at the same time. It’s not that serious.”

Never considering that to be a solution, Yunho and San exchanged glances, their glistening lips forming perverse smiles. “I’ll fuck her tight little ass and you’ll fuck her pretty cunt?” Yunho suggested, reaching out to shake San’s hand. San nodded his head adamantly, clutching the vampire’s hand and giving it a firm shake, the both of them sharing a series of delighted chuckles.

No matter what background they were from, men were kind of odd. Oh well, at least they weren’t fighting anymore. Instead, they were about to work together so that they could stuff themselves inside you. Team work. We love to see it.

Growling and making guttural noises from his collared throat, San shoved his cock as deep into your cunt as he possibly could, wanting to ensure that he would fill you up with his pups one day. “Gonna breed you, baby…Gonna make you a mommy,” the werewolf huffed out, drool leaking past his lips, angling his head downward, his eyes zoning in on the faint outline of his cock being forced in and out of your lower stomach.

“Sounds good, Sannie,” you moaned out, barely able to get a deep breath in from being sandwiched in between the large men, laying on your side on the warm mattress, thankful that Yunho was holding your right thigh up from behind you, his cock sliding in and out of your other hole. You felt a piercing sensation on your collarbone, knowing Yunho was taking a healthy portion of your life source.

"So sweet...my Darling, your blood..." Yunho mumbled against your skin, licking and sucking at the bruising skin, unable to keep his breathing under control. "God, you drive me crazy. I just-"

San's loud growls and groans interrupted the vampire's train of thought, making him grow irritated. San had his head leaned down over your chest, eagerly sucking your tits into his mouth one at a time, nibbling, licking, and slobbering all over them.

Disgusted, Yunho scowled across your shoulder at San, questioning harshly, “Why do you always have to make such a mess all the time? Dumb dog.”

San pursed his lips and let out a few long strings of spit onto your shiny tits, his golden eyes narrowing at Yunho’s crimson ones. “Because she loves it, onion boy.”

Yunho bared his blood-stained fangs at San, growling, “Onion boy?! That’s literally an old wive’s tale, you absolute d–”

They were both fully sheathed inside your holes, pumping themselves into you over and over again and they couldn't stop arguing even for a moment? How rude. Trying to focus on how heavy and warm your lower half was beginning to feel, your arousal coating the both of their moving cocks, you huffed dramatically, injecting, “Jesus Christ, will you two just fucking focus?”

Rolling his eyes, Yunho started sucking on your neck again, quietly sipping on your blood, still pounding his cock steadily into your ass. Hearing the loud, whiny-sounding moans you were letting out, he chuckled to himself, asking huskily, “You’re such a dirty little witch, aren’t you? Is one cock not enough for you now? You need two now just to cum?”

San nodded his head in agreement, his shaggy black hair bouncing along with his movements, unable to respond verbally, too concentrated on making sure his pre-cum was reaching your womb, desperately wanting to fill you with his kin.

Personally, you didn't want to admit that you were a slutty little witch, in desperate need of being filled by your boyfriends as much as humanly possible. So, you simply shook your head, exhaling, "No...that's not it...It's so you two can finally get along..."

Yunho dragged his tongue up your neck to your jaw, nipping at it, grabbing your ass roughly and sighing into your ear, “Darling, you say that you’re doing this so that I get along with San, but you really just wanted both of your slutty little holes to be filled up at once, huh?”

Inhaling sharply at the sensation of both Yunho and San slowing down their thrusts, allowing you to feel every inch of them rubbing against your slick, plush walls, you searched for an excuse inside your clouded mind. “This is a bonding experience for you two, so you can finally stop–unnh–bickering,” you argued back, leaning your head back on Yunho’s collarbone, panting heavily. “How does it feel being cock to cock with my Sannie? Tell me, Yunnie.”

Leaning his head back, San let out a small howl, overwhelmed by the constant stimulation. Not only was he able to mark you with his scent, and pump his cock into your breeding hole, but he was also able to hear you call him yours. It felt so good, so good he started to drool again.

Blushing, Yunho pressed his cold sweaty cheek onto yours, glancing over at San, not wanting to admit that it felt good when their cocks rubbed against one another. “It could feel worse, I guess.”

San snapped out of his daze to growl, “Liar. I can feel your stupid, undead cock throbbing against mine!”

Yunho blushed harder, the color now reaching his pointed ears. “That’s because I’m inside my Darling’s tight little hole, you dumb m–”

“That’s enough!” you shouted, reaching back to grab the back of Yunho’s head and leaning forward into San’s chest, pushing his head in the opposite direction, now sandwiched tightly between one extremely cool body and one that was radiating heat off of it like it was the surface of the sun. “Kiss and make up, or else I’ll recite a spell that’ll turn the both of you into vibrators.”

It took a few seconds for the both of them to internally admit to themselves that they found each other to be extremely attractive, despite their differences. San made the first move, having to squish you against his large upper half to press his lips onto Yunho's, already swiping his tongue across the vampire's lower lip. One heated kiss led to another, and soon enough, San was lapping at Yunho’s tongue and sucking on it, his drool dripping down onto your face below. Yunho groaned periodically, his cock throbbing heavily inside you, eventually grabbing San’s face to deepen the kiss, shoving his tongue inside and moving it around to assert his dominance.

You almost felt like you were under a spell yourself, watching their tongues and lips meet in a fervid manner, noticing how they occasionally used their fangs to bite at each other’s swollen lips, their mixed saliva dripping onto your flushed face now and then. “Kiss me too…” you eventually whispered to the both of them, watching them slowly split apart, the hatred in their eyes gone and instead filled with intrepid lust.

Without hesitation, San slotted his lips onto yours, moaning into your mouth, his ears flattening down. It's desperate, full of passion and need, his teeth clinking against yours from how fast he’s moving his mouth against yours.

You could barely handle how much pleasure you were feeling, your cunt pulsing and dripping so much slick, you were surprised either of your boyfriends could even stay inside. "Gonna cum..." you moaned into San's mouth, tears forming inside the corners of your eyes.

Yunho suddenly grabbed your chin and moved it towards him, kissing you in a more deliberate manner, allowing you to savor every swipe of his tongue and the faint taste of your own blood. He started to buck his hips up into you, sloppy and desperate, breaking the kiss to groan, "I'm gonna fill this slutty little hole up with my load, princess."

"Fuck, Y/N...I'm cumming...you're gonna be a mommy for me, baby...my pretty mommy...full of my pups..." San grabbed onto one of your hips, digging his fingers into your soft flesh, suddenly emitting harsh, animal-like noises, fucking his own load into you as deep as he possibly could, wanting to make sure it reached your womb.

You couldn't even announce your own orgasm, only able to let out a strained scream, your eyes rolling back into your skull. Your arousal squirted out of you, coating both of your boyfriend's cocks, some of it forming a small puddle on the sheets below.

The three of you laid there in a pile, huffing and puffing, simply looking at one another's flushed, fucked-out faces. The three of you exchanged quiet 'i love you's', until you sat up and jumped up from the bed, a large amount of cum dribbling out of you and down your legs.

"What's wrong, Darling?" Yunho questioned, casually holding his arm out for San to join him, the werewolf laying down on the vampire's chest and looking up at you with a puzzled expression.

"Your cum...it's all coming out of me..." you whined, squeezing your thighs together. "I'm gonna go to the bathroom real quick." And with that, you ran out of the dorm room to the bathroom across the hall as quick as you could. When you left, Yunho and San exchanged glances, their lips slowly curling up into the same suggestive smiles.

"Alright, that's better," you sighed to yourself, walking back into the room, only to stop in your tracks, a strong zap of arousal immediately striking your core. Were you seeing things right? You rubbed your eyes and blinked. San was sitting in Yunho's large lap, rutting against the vampire like a bitch in heat with his head leaned back, his tail curled around Yunho's thigh. Not only that, but Yunho had put one of San's leashes on for him, holding the end of it with a tight grip, suddenly yanking on it so that it San down onto him, causing their open mouths to meet.

"Hey!" you called out, a hand on your hip.

They both jumped, pulling away from each other to look up at you.

Your fake angry face disappeared and was quickly replaced with a wide smile. You giggled with delight, closing the door and running towards them to jump onto the bed. "Make room for me!" They laughed in unison and wrapped their limbs around you, pressing kisses to your face and neck.

"Darling," Yunho sighed happily, nuzzling your neck with his cheek, holding you close to him. San nuzzled you as well, giving your cheek a small affectionate lick, adding, "My Y/N....ready for round two?"

Despite the odds, it seemed this naughty fairytale had a happy ending, after all. A very happy ending.

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FFF: @hwalysm @scuzmunkie @creativechaoticloner @dilucpegg3r @yeosxxx @gemjimin @wonwowzers @sanjoongie @manipulatedstars @k-drizzle

Apply for the taglist here ⇢ ♡

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bonefall · 11 months ago

Note

Could the cats make little toys? Like making plushies out of plants or figurines out of rocks and sap or something?

70% of the toys they make are weaved or whittled. I actually made a small scene in the outline (which HOPEFULLY, i keep saying this, should be out Soon TM) of Darkstar's Commandment where she creates a wicker ball as a gift for Reedshine

^^^ These are willow balls! If you have access to willow trees, you can make these really easily. For Clan cats, it's a sign that you're a really good weaver, and making these is a big favor because they're naturally quite brittle.

These are the basis of the famous "mossball." Pure moss doesn't keep its shape if you kick it around; a wicker skeleton is stuffed and covered with moss so it doesn't hurt if it bonks you in the face. Usually, these are just kept in a pile somewhere any anyone can go grab and use one for games.

You can customize a ball for a specific person by sourcing some leather or linen, and then sewing it around the skeleton. WindClan has the market cornered on this sort of thing because of how many rabbits they hunt, but for RiverClan, SkyClan, and ShadowClan, pelts and flax are pretty valuable and not typically wasted on crafting good mossballs.

(SkyClan in particular is more likely to just trade kittypets for their excess toys.)

Even the best Clan cat artisans only whittle the sorts of figurines we might associate with small children. They're sharp-edged, simple, and look a lot like these;

They don't have "polish" figured out yet, so nothing they make looks "smooth." Some cat's going to figure out that they can rub the edges against the nearby exposed sandstone, but I'd leave that for a bit of a "genius" like Dustpelt or his mentor One-Eye to figure out.

They can also be made out of clay, but that's more common in RiverClan and WindClan where wood is scarce.

Figurines are often directly commissioned by deputies and senior warriors for use in strategizing, ESPECIALLY in WindClan where they have a history of needing to "visualize" the various parts of their open moor in battle plans. They can be simple toys, but these can get pretty elaborate as it's seen as a bit of a status symbol if the deputy's "pawn" of you is fancy.

Basically, it means you're important enough to be frequently included in battle plans, so much that YOUR pawn is customized. These will often be buried with the warrior, or passed down to their living descendants.

Figurines show up a lot in "channeling." The illegal, direct method of summoning the dead by bypassing StarClan. They aren't "consumed" by the ritual like more organic tokens, so someone who does a ton of channeling of a specific spirit will often end up crafting one of these.

There's various other toys too, but they're generally not soft or stuffed. Clan cats don't have "plushies," since they require a LOT of textiles and sewing which they can't experiment freely with.

And to close out;

Glue is made from animal hide, and is another one of those "high-quality" materials mostly used by artisans and patrol heads.

Making pitch from pine is dangerous; go here for a tutorial on that

Sap's not a great adhesive, but works fine for kittens just having fun.

Whittling, weaving, and molding are the skills usually used to make toys.

Yes, they make toys, and they love to play with them.

Most "crafts" Clan cats make are communally owned, personal belongings are usually very special.

#Did you know I have 1700 asks #I'm trying to answer some old ones :SPARKLE:#clan culture #Better bones au #Toys #Clan Crafts

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angel-eyes05 · 6 months ago

Text

only until midnight

pairing: prince charming!opla!sanji x cinderella!afab!reader

summary: after reaching your limits with your life at home, your outlook on life changes after meeting a certain stranger in the woods. your paths are destined to meet again at the king's ball later this week, but he seems to be more than what meets the eye. lucky for him, you are too.

warnings/info: nsfw (thats later in the fic though, so i'll mark it off when to stop reading, and when you can continue if you still want to read. the smut isn't integral to the plot i was just feeling horny lmao), THIS IS AN AU!!! if you dont like that this fic isnt for you lol, cinderella au, slight angst, lots of fluff after the smut, smoking (pipe cause its like the 1700s), first time/virgin reader, unprotected piv (wrap it up guys), reader's been through shit, no use of y/n (it kinda works cause he's not supposed to use her name and shit lol)

word count: 6.3k words

notes: i got this idea cause im playing grace in rodgers and hammerstein's cinderella and i was like ykw this would be really cute with sanji. i picked live action sanji because of 1) im more attracted to him than animated sanji lol 2) the british accent feels right for a prince 3) i dont know enough about him post time skip to like feel good enough to write for him (im only on sabaody). also ik the obvious look here is just to make the kingdom germa kingdom but again i don't know enough about post time skip one piece to write about it in confidence so im doing just a random kingdom in an au. the kingdom isnt even the main focus of this so it doesnt matter!!! also i didn't proofread, i didnt have the energy i finished this at 1 am my bad chat. lol enjoy

dividers by: @cafekitsune

It seemed as if the dirt was superglued down to the floor. As a part of your daily chores, your stepmother had ordered you to scrub the entire house floor until it was spotless. This one speck of dirt had decided to be particularly devilish with you and your consistent scrubbing. You let up from the brush, leaned back, and wiped the sweat brewing on your forehead. Some days were harder than others. The past eight years had been more of the same ordeal. Your father had married particularly quick after your mother’s illness took her, always leaving a sour taste in your mouth when you would linger on the thought. The woman had an interesting demeanor to her. She was sweet yes, but always with a twinge of condescension. She brought with her two young daughters, about your age. They were less deceptive of their malice, teasing you whenever your parents weren't looking. It wasn’t picture perfect, but then nothing was now without your mother. This was just your new reality, and you accepted it with grace and humility.

Then it happened. News came back to your house about a carriage crash involving your father. The image of your stepmother crumbling to the floor as the news was delivered was burned into your mind. Your family had to adapt fast, the house was in a vulnerable position now without a patriarch. The house staff was fired due to lack of funds, materials downsized, and tensions were thick with your new family. Drowning in grief and head of house duties, your stepmother never found the time to clean, and your stepsisters? Well let’s say they weren’t involved in that conversation from the start. You found yourself naturally taking the duty up on yourself. First it was just cleaning the dishes. It slowly grew as time went on, you had gone from daughter to maid. When your stepsisters would make your job harder for you, you would attempt to reach out to your stepmother for a glimpse of hope. Her beginning response was just ignorance, but as your chores became larger and larger, she turned into gas to fuel her daughters’ fire. As if matters couldn’t get any worse, your name was soon taken, along with your dignity and freedom. Bored today, your stepsisters found themselves brewing a new nickname for you.

“I got it!” The short one shrieked from the cushioned chair. The other quickly turned face her in excitement. “Cinderella!” There was silence for a bit, as taller one looked at her confusedly. The short one groaned. “Because shes always covered in soot and cinder from the fireplace.” The tall one took a second to think about it. “That’s too confusing. Plus it doesn’t have anything to do with her name! It has no ring to it.” “Well I’d like to see you come up with something better!” The short one retorted. “You don’t think I can do it?!” The tall one stood up in anger. You tried to block them out as you mopped the floor of the room around them.

“Watch it! You’re going to get my shoes wet with your dirty mop water!” The short one shouted. Blocked them out too much now. “My mistake,” you said, dully. “Ugh, you would think she’s a zombie or something,” the tall one groaned. You could tell your day was about to get worse when you heard the click of your stepmother’s heels entering the lounge room. “What’s all this ruckus you girls are making?” She asked, annoyed. “Oh mother I’ve got it! I’ve got her nickname!” The short one bounded out of her seat. “Don’t listen mother, it’s dreadful there’s no melody to it!” The tall one intruded. They began throwing hands at each other and yanking on the other’s hair. This was almost a daily occurrence when they began arguing. The shrieks had dulled your ears. Almost on routine, your stepmother raised her hand to cease the show. “Continue my dear,” she gestured to the short one. “We should call her Cinderella! Because she’s always around the fireplace!”

The fire brewing in your stomach grew to a burst. “Stepmother please, they’ll only stop if you tell them so!” You exploded. The stepsisters gave an almost comedic gasp at your rare outburst. All your stepmother needed to do to get you back to your work was give you once glance worth daggers. She cleared her throat after the ordeal. “Girls, please try to keep the bickering to a minimum if you can, I’m trying to work out arrangements to the ball later this week.” Your sisters immediately started cheesing and cheering after hearing the news.

You had almost forgotten about the event. The king was growing old of age, and with all his daughters married off to other kingdoms, his last hope for an heir was his unmarried son. The prince, the youngest of the king’s children, and the only son: Prince Sanji Vinsmoke. This ball was open to all the women in the kingdom. A playground for him to pick his new bride. Everyone and anyone had the chance, so of course the entire kingdom had been gushing about it over the past month.

Why bother though, you were most likely just going to be stuck in the house again that night. Your stepmother always found new ways to keep you busy on ball nights. “If you two keep quiet for the rest of the day, I will ensure you have the most beautiful dresses among the crowd,” your stepmother promised her daughters. They cheered and jumped into their mother for a hug. You couldn’t help but turn away from the sight, an ache growing in your heart, longing for your own mother back. “As for you,” she turned to face you and look you straight in the eye. “I need you to go into the market immediately and pick up some silk and lace to give to the seamstress for your sisters.” You nodded compliantly. “Yes stepmother,” you managed to speak. “No. It’s ‘Yes Ma’am.’ We’ve discussed this. Is that understood?” You nodded again. “Yes ma’am.” The woman smirked. “Thank you, Cinderella.” She exited the room, her daughters snickering to themselves and following her out.

You dropped the broom by instinct, hands too shaky to keep it steady in them. You covered your mouth to conceal the incoming sobs. You moved swiftly through the house out to the back where the horses were rounded up. You ripped a basket off the shelf outside, flopped on top of the horse, and whisked off into the backyard woods. You couldn’t help but let out your sobs. It was too much for you to take. You were trapped and things were only getting worse. You pulled on the reins of the horse to slow down. Once it slowed to a halt, you dismounted and tied the reins to a nearby tree branch. You walked to the center of the woods, and let out an ear piercing scream. You screamed until your vocal cords began to itch. It was the only way to let out your anger. You couldn’t explode on your family. The results of that were already clear. You didn’t want to explode on yourself. So the woods had become your sanctuary. A place to let it all out. After the noise could no longer physically leave your mouth, you flopped down to the floor and pulled your knees into your chest. Sobs left your mouth as tears flooded your eyes and pooled down your face. You just wanted your old life back. Your parents. Your freedom and dignity. Your name.

The rustling of leaves nearby woke you from your breakdown. You lifted your head from your knees to find a man approaching from about 30 feet away. You immediately shuffled to your feet and looked at him bewildered. You picked up a sharp rock from the floor in self defense. “Woah, woah, woah! I mean you no harm I swear! I was just passing through!” The man defended, putting his hands up by his chest. The two of you circled each other at a safe distance for a little bit. He didn’t seem to mean any harm, dressed as a simple farm boy. His golden hair was too long, his bangs covering his left eye. He was fairly tall and skinny too, just enough meat on his bones, especially near his toned legs. What stuck out to you the most was the kindness in his eyes. Well, the kindness mixed with current fear. You were so enwrapped with observing him, you forgot you were currently threatening his life. You dropped the rock to the floor, and walked over to sit on a fallen tree log. He watched you for a little bit before you signaled him over to sit next to you.

He wandered along over and took a seat down next to you, still keeping a safe distance though. “I was out riding when I heard a scream, so I decided to follow it. It went on for a while, so it was easy to track. I thought someone was in trouble,” he explained. “I’m fine,” you shot out. “The red in your eyes and your horse throat suggests differently.” You sighed and cupped your face in your hands. It stayed silent for a bit. Eventually, the man went into his pocket and pulled out a box of matches and a pipe filled with tobacco. Your head lifted up from your hands to watch his process. He struck the match and lit the tobacco, waited for the smoke to form, and then sucked it out of the stem. His eyes closed as he blew out a beautiful puff of smoke. He then turned to look at you and held out the pipe. With some reluctance, you took the pipe from his hands, held the stem up to your lips, and sucked out the smoke. Of course holding it in for too long, you coughed the lingering smoke out.

The man smiled and scooted in closer to you to hold your back as you coughed and took the pipe away. Once your lungs calmed down, you turned to look at him as he was admiring you. “Better?” He kindly asked. You nodded softly. He smiled and took another inhale of smoke before putting the pipe away. “And what would such a beautiful maiden you be doing out in the woods all by herself?” He inquired. You smiled at how cheesy the compliment was. “I could ask the same thing about you.” You both chuckled. He was the first one to explain. “Well I was just out for an afternoon ride, when your shriek took me off my path. And now, here we are I guess.” You nodded slightly and turned to look at the floor.

“You still haven’t told me why you were screaming,” he mentioned. You sighed. “Just that sort of day I guess.” He nodded. “It just…gets too much sometimes.” As you felt your eyes welling up again, you also felt his hand rest upon yours. You turned to look up at him, a soft smile resting on his face. Naturally, your head fell onto his shoulder, and his head onto yours. You two spent a while like this. “Well, a pretty girl like you shouldn’t be using all her voice up like that. Whoever it was that hurt you like this doesn’t deserve that much energy from you,” he consoled. You couldn’t help but blush a little bit. You had no idea who he was, yet you felt so comfortable with him. “You know, you still haven’t told me your name,” he said, lifting up his head. You lifted up yours as well to look at him. “Oh, um I-.”

You were cut off by the sound of trumpets coming increasingly closer. “Shit,” he said under his breath, scampering up off the log. You looked up at him confused. Was he in trouble with the palace law? Before you could ask any questions, he asked “Are you attending the King’s Ball?” Damn it. You would become a laughing stock to him, most likely being the only girl in the kingdom not attending. “Can’t we just see each other in the market tomorrow?” you suggested. “No, it has to be there,” he shot out. You thought to yourself for a second. Maybe with some extra chores, your stepmother would finally allow you. With hesitation, you finally answered. “Yes.” He smiled to himself. “I hope I shall see you there.” He seemed to move back towards you again, but halted as the trumpets began to blare again. “Have a good day madame!” he exclaimed, bolting off into the distant forest. You stood up as you watched the mystery man escape from your life.

The woods seemed to disappear around you as your heart fluttered. The first person to show you kindness in eight years and you didn’t even catch his name. Stupid. You were snapped out of your daze when the sound of approaching horse hoofs stopped behind you. Three palace soldiers on horses stood behind you as you turned and curtseyed to greet them. “Good afternoon men,” you greeted. They bowed their heads in return as a sign of respect. The Captain of the Royal Guard was the one in very front. “Pardon the intrusion, but we’ve been in search of His Royal Highness. He seemed to slip away from his fencing lessons earlier this afternoon and the king has been worried sick. Villagers said they saw him passing by through the woods just a moment ago. Have you seen him?”

Oh my god. It occurred to you that you had been so cooped up in the house you had no idea what the prince looked like. That couldn’t possibly had been him back there though. He would have no business around some low life like you. “Do you possibly have a picture of His Highness?” You asked. One of the guards in the back searches through his satchel and pulled out a portrait of the Royal Family. You walked up and took it, examining the prince’s face. You would’ve thrown up right there and then if it weren't for the fact you were trying to help him escape. But those eyebrows in that photo were unmistakable. It was him alright. You just smoked off of the prince’s pipe. “No, I do apologize, but I don’t recognize him,” you said. The captain simply nodded. “Thank you ma’am. As you were.” He bowed his head as him and his men rode off.

Shock pulled your heart from out of your chest and into your throat. You could hardly believe yourself. That must have been why he was so insistent on you attending the ball. But why? What could he possibly see in someone like you?

There was only one way to figure out. You went over to your horse, untied him from the tree, and rode off into town, with a new goal. You had to attend that ball.

The week had practically zoomed by. You had the house to yourself most days, your stepmother and stepsisters always out at the market place trying on dresses for the ball. This time was mostly spent either practicing dancing, or sewing up your own dress. There wasn’t much material in the house, and god forbid you take one of the dresses from your sisters, so you took scraps of fabric from your mother’s dresses and pieces of fabric in drawers around the house to make your own. It took about the rest of the week to make, spending laborious hours towards its construction. The final product was a pink gown. It wasn’t nearly nice as your stepsisters’ gowns, but it would suffice for the evening.

The night came and your stepmother and sisters could be heard shuffling downstairs preparing to get into the carriage. “Wait! I’m coming too!” you shouted down to them. They turned around and looked at you in shock. “Mother you can’t let her!” the tall stepsister shouted. “Yes it’s too humiliating to be seen with her! You can smell the soot from a mile away!” her sister rebounded. Their mother held their hand up, shushing them up immediately. “Now girls, if she would like to join us, that’s well up to her to decide. She’s a grown woman just like the two of you.” The girls looked at her in shock. Your eyes glimmered in hope. It was finally working, all your hard work had finally paid off. Your stepmother smiled at you. Something felt off though. Her eyes had that glint of malice in them. That glint whenever she was about to do something truly horrible.

“Now Cinderella, where did you get this dress from?” she inquired. “Oh, I used materials from my mother’s dresses and some fabric around the house,” you hesitated to reply. “Hm.” She stared at you, circled you like a shark for a moment. “Darling, come here.” The short one stood next to her mother, looking up at you. “Isn’t her dress lovely?” the woman asked. Your stepsister rolled her eyes a bit. “Yes mother,” she groaned out. “You can really see the attention to detail.” She traced her finger along one of your chiffon sleeves. “Like these sleeves. This beautiful pink fabric. Darling, don’t you have a fabric like this in your closet?” Your heart dropped. You could see where this was going fast. Your sister took a moment to observe the sleeve. She gasped. “You little witch, I bought this fabric its mine!” She ripped both sleeves off your dress. All you could do was stand there, mouth agape and watching in horror. The tall one walked up next. “And these pearls were in my drawer!” She ripped them off your neck.

Within the next 30 seconds, your sisters found some excuse to tear of each piece of fabric off your dress. You tried desperately to get them off you, but it was no use. Through the chaos, you could see your stepmother smirking by the door. Your eyes welled up with water as you could do nothing but watch. “Girls, girls!” your stepmother called out. “That’s quite enough!” The girls stopped, hair ratted, looking at what they had done to you. The tall one was smiling. The short one had the slightest bit of remorse in her eye. But it disappeared as soon as they collected themselves and walked out the door to the carriage. Their mother was about to follow them out the door. Before, she stopped. “Just as I said. Going to the ball is up to you. You’ll just have to decide if you want to go with a dress or not.” You couldn’t even say a word to her. “Goodnight, my dear.” She closed the door.

The silence of the foyer was choking you. You mindlessly shuffled to the backyard. Disassociated beyond belief, you took a seat on a bench outside. The tears came out naturally, without you even making a sound. It was all gone. The chance at a normal life. Just go to outside and feel like a human being for the night. To see him again. He wasn’t even at the front of your mind for once. You just wanted to curl up and disappear.

Out of the corner of your eye, a silver glimmer could be seen on the other side of the yard. You wiped your eyes and looked up to see a tall woman, in a beautiful white ballgown, a glowing wand in her hand, and..were those wings? You must be hallucinating, theres no way. Still being dissociated during the ordeal. The woman explained she was your Fairy Godmother, and that she could send you to the ball. She created a carriage out of one of the pumpkins in the garden, coachmen and horses out of the scuttering mice, and a magical light blue ballgown for you out of thin air. The finishing touch were a pair of shimmering glass slippers. You couldn’t believe your eyes. The woman explained the details of the spell. “While the spell lasts, no one at the ball will recognize you. This will give you anonymity.” That was a relief. You were worried over your step family. Prince Sanji probably wouldn’t either. You didn’t mind though. This was just an opportunity to get out there. “The spell will also wear off by midnight. That means all of this is gone by 12:01,” she continued. You accepted the terms, and next thing you know, you were off to the ball in your pumpkin.

As you stepped out of the carriage and onto the stairs for the castle, you felt like a little girl. Living out your dream as a princess. It was too good to be true. The other girls with their husbands walked gracefully up the stairs. You seemed to have gotten there a little late, everyone in the ballroom already. You gathered your courage, and your dress, and made your way up the stairs and into the castle. The beautiful golden accents and stone pillars were a marvel for the eye. The orchestra playing was more beautiful than you could ever imagine.

As you scouted the room, you could see the row of women lined up to greet His Highness. Sanji sat bored, more cleaned up from the last time you saw him and in a white coat with gold accents, and red dress pants. His hair still covered his eye, and you could see the king swatting at him to tuck it away. Embarrassingly, you caught yourself staring at him from up upon the balcony. Get a grip. It was stupid to spend your time fantasizing over a prince. He wouldn’t even remember who you were. But your heart couldn’t help but skip a beat when you made split second eye contact with him. Before you could see him go back for a second glance, you had already made your way to wander about the rest of the palace.

Ironically, you found yourself too nervous to dance with the other guests. You instead spent your time admiring the architecture of the castle. The grand piano in the center of one of the lounge room caught your attention. Your mother had taught you how to play when you were young, and wanting to see how well you remembered, you pulled out one of the sheets of music and began to play. Music filled the room as you became so wrapped in the passion of playing. It seemed as if hours had gone by when it was only mere seconds.

“No one’s played that old thing in years,” a familiar voice spoke. You could tell it was Sanji before even needing to turn around. You immediately ceased playing and jolted up from your seat. “Oh, I do apologize!” you shot out, frazzled.. “No, no, I’m sorry for startling you, my lady!” he interjected, walking closer to you and raising his hands up in defense. “I was just admiring the piano, Your Highness.” Remember you forgot to address him properly, you curtsey, your big dress laying on the floor, and lower you chin.

You hear his footsteps move towards you, then feel his finger as it rests underneath your chin and pull it up to face him. “Indeed.” You feel his hot breath on your face as your stomach swarms with butterflies. He’s closer to you than he intended to be. He looks at you with comforting eyes and a familiarity. That wasn’t possible though, the Fairy Godmother said the spell forbade anyone from recognizing you. You couldn’t help but wonder though what he was thinking right about now. All you could think about was how beautiful his lips looked right about now, spending moments to stare at them, as he did yours. Before anything can get too messy, Sanji clears his throat and steps away. “You played beautifully.” “Thank you, Your Highness.” “Please, call me Sanji, Your Highness is too formal.” You smiled at his suggestion.

“Do you know how to play it?” you asked him, trying to break the tension. “My father tried to get me lessons, but I had a hard time paying attention,” he said as he took a seat down on the piano bench. “I can try though.” He stretched his fingers and begun to play the melody on the sheet of paper. You took a few steps back and rested your head on the base of the piano, watching him hypnotically while he played. The was his fingers graced the keys was mesmerizing to the plain eye. Once he finished, he smiled and look up at you. “You’re blushing, my lady,” he teased. You immediately snapped out of your daze, lifted your head and cleared your throat. “Oh, my apologies.” “It’s quite alright.” Sanji looked out behind the door and noticed the music being played in the ballroom. He then bowed, reaching out his hand to you. “Would you give me the honor of joining me on the dance floor?” Your blush grew even hotter. “Oh, I’m afraid I’m not much of a dancer.” He lifted up, and took your hand in his. “Well then, I suppose we will just make the rest of the castle our ballroom.” You stared at him confused. “We can’t have anyone else see you fumbling on your feet, can we?” You both giggled childishly as he took your waist and you rested your hand on his shoulder.

Sanji’s feet seemed to glide across the floor as he took you into a dance. You tried to match his movements, but your feet couldn’t help but stumble as you twirled along the floor. Your breath got slightly heavier as your embarrassment grew. “Are you alright, my dear?” Sanji asked with concern. “I’m sorry, I’m not very well versed with this dance,” you replied. Sanji smiled. “I guess I’ll just have to teach you.” He began to call out the movements you needed to make for the dance. “Left foot to the right, right foot forward…and twirl,” and so on and so forth. Out of the corner of your eye, you could see how hypnotically his eyes were watching you as you twirled, eyes low and tracing your figure. “See, now you’re getting it sweetheart,” he said, voice deep and low, putting butterflies in your stomach. The two of you continued to dance throughout the halls of the castle, eventually making your way to the balcony you had spotted him the first time.

It had taken a bit to remember, but it suddenly struck that you were dancing with the prince. This thought was brought back to you when you noticed every guest at the party staring at you and Sanji up on the balcony. “Sanji?” you whispered. He hummed low in response. “Everyone’s looking at you.” He chuckled under his breath. “Trust me my dear, I’m not the one they’re looking at.” You couldn’t help but blush. As you scanned the crowd, you spotted your stepmother and stepsisters. The look of jealousy in their eyes couldn’t help but make you smile. “We should go somewhere,” Sanji brought up. “Where?” you asked confused. “Away from here.” “But what about your guests?” Sanji smirked an evil look as he put his mouth just up to your ear. “I don’t think they’ll mind darling.” The butterflies were back.

It felt as if the two of you had been dancing for hours. You had no idea what time it was, or even where in the castle you were. All you cared about was being here with him. Little girls always dream about finding their prince. They never expect it to happen when they grow up. But here you were. Swaying on the outside terrace of the castle in the moonlight. Your head rested up against his shoulder, him looking down at you, as if nothing else mattered. You and your prince. Without another word needing to be said, Sanji straightened up, took your hand, and led you into the the darkness of the yard. The two of you came across a lone gazebo in a field of tall oak trees, lit only by the moonlight and a single candle lamp. After leading you inside, Sanji shut the glass door and lit a second candle in the gazebo with a nearby match. You took a seat on the bench wrapped around the building, flattening out your massive dress as it poofed up.

Sanji walked over next to you and took a seat, smoothing your face with his thumb. He gazed into your eyes as you smiled lovingly towards him. “My dear, may I ask you something.” You nodded softly, eyes slightly closed. “Where did you manage to get this beautiful gown.” Shit. You didn’t know what to tell him. He would never believe you if you told him the truth, you’d look like a fool. “One of the tailors at the marketplace,” you made up. He hummed and moved in closer to you. Your heart started pounding.

“I wasn’t aware your family could afford such fine fabrics. With the clothes you were wearing in the woods and such.” Your heart froze. “How did you know?” you stuttered out. It couldn’t be, there was no way. The Fairy said this was part of the spell, how could he possibly know? “I could never forget a face as beautiful as yours,” the words falling off of his tongue like honey. Before you had the time to comprehend what he said or how he could know it was you, his lips had interlocked with yours. They must have been laced with something, the way you simply seemed to melt into his touch.

His hand wrapped around your waist as he pulled you closer into him. Your hands found their way into his hair, entangling fingers between the locks. The kiss was long, sensual, as Sanji explored your mouth for the first time. All you could do was let him take the lead, your hands tracing down his neck, humming as his tongue slipped into your mouth. In a swift motion, overtaking your dress with him, he slides you on top of his lap, where his aching erection becomes noticeable incredibly quick. You could feel him throbbing, begging, beneath you. His hand fumbled down the poof of your tulle skirt, and up your bare legs as he went to feel your ass.

As his hands went up, his mouth went down, leaving wet, sloppy kisses along your neck, sucking and marking as he went. You couldn’t help but make noise as he played with your ass like putty and sucked the essence out of your skin. “Oh could this really be happening to me,” you lowly moaned out. You could feel Sanji smiling against your neck, grabbing your ass harder in response. You could feel his cock growing bigger and his breath getting more frantic by the second. He suddenly moved his hands out of your dress, and separated his mouth from your neck, leaving a trail of saliva.

“May I?” he asked, desperation in his eyes. You froze up a little bit. “I’ve never done it before,” you warned. He paused for a moment, then nodded gently. “It’s okay, I’ll go easy.” You thought about it for a moment, then gave him a nod. With this, he effortlessly lifted you up in his arms and carried you to the gazebo floor. He laid you down gently on your back, then leaned back and unlatched his belt. He pulled his pants down ever so slightly, allowing just enough room for his cock to spring up in an almost comedic fashion. Sanji then pushed the fabric of your dress to the side as he searched for your underwear, getting closer to you.

You see him come and lean over you, kissing the top of your slightly exposed breast as he guides his tip across your hole with his hand. He had barely inserted himself into you and you were already mewling like a wild animal. You only got louder as more of his shaft entered your dripping cunt. Your fingers dug into his back as he braced and let out a few groans of his own. “God you’re so tight…” he groaned. Once he was finally inside of you he began to slowly rock back and forth, sending waves from your cunt to your brain.

His mouth moved back to yours as he absorbed all of your moans as his pace picked up. “So lucky I ran into the woods that day,” he gasped out between kisses and thrusts. “Your pussy’s so good. Molding perfectly to my cock.” You couldn’t even fully process what he was saying, so enwrapped in the experience at hand. You were sent into further delirium as he picked up the pace even more. Desperate for more of you, Sanji hiked up your leg onto his shoulder to get even deeper into your pussy. The bliss was overwhelming. “Go harder Sanji,” you managed to moan out. “I can take you.” Sanji couldn’t help but chuckle, but he still accepted your request, shoving more of himself into you as he slammed his tip into your g-spot. Your hand shot out to the side, grabbing at nothing but the concrete floor. Your back arched and hips buckled. This man had you at full disposal and you hadn’t even known him for a day. “Best pussy I’ve ever had,” he grunted. “Want to keep you with me forever.” As he picked his pace up again, you could feel something brewing in your lower stomach, no idea what this feeling was, but knowing it was coming fast. “S-Sanji, something’s happening,” you moaned out. He smiled and kissed your lips sloppily, like it was the last time he would. “I know my darling, just keep going for me.”

The sounds of your ass cheeks hitting across the floor, your moans and his groans mixing into each other’s mouths, the dim lit gazebo, everything felt straight out of a porno. Your hips began to buck further as the heat continued to grow. You could tell the same thing was happening to Sanji too, his thrusts getting sloppier by the second. With the last final thrusts of his converging into your g-spot, the white heat finally rushed up the rest of your body as you experienced your first time of pure bliss and ecstasy. Your moans turned into mewls as your hand ripped at your dress for any sort of stability. As the orgasm died down, you felt Sanji’s aching cock slip out of you, as he turned away and finished on his own.

A sort of numbness scattered across your body. The experience left you exhausted, barely noticing Sanji crawling up and laying down next to you as he cleaned himself with a handkerchief and redid his pants. He planted soft, gentle kisses into your neck as he fixed you up and brought your dress back down to cover your legs. “Oh my darling you did so good,” he praised you. You looked at him, pure, unadulterated love in your eyes. “Thank you…for giving me this,” you choked out. His lips laced into yours as he hugged your hip. “I would give you all my love if you simply asked. This was just a treat.” You giggled like a little girl. He smiled back and continued to kiss you.

In between kisses, you tried to talk to him again, but couldn’t keep from giggling as he shut you up before you could continue. “Sanji.” Kiss. “Sanji…” Kiss and giggle. “Sanji!” This time he slipped in a little bit of tongue. “Your father will be asking about you, we need to get back now.” Sanji let go and groaned like a little school boy. “Alright, fine. But only because I can give him an answer on who to marry now.” You turned to face him. “And who would that be Your Royal Highness.” The silence and the look in his eyes spoke for itself. You took a deep breath and begun to sit up, but not before Sanji could pull you back down into him for another makeout session. Your giggles interlocked with his kissing only made him fall deeper in love with you. “Alright. We can go. IF! You tell me your name finally,” he suggested. All you could do at him was laugh, his childish behavior hitting all your soft spots. “Alright,” you began “It’s-.”

Before you could finish, you were cut off by the sound of the bell chimes from the grand bell tower at the front of the castle. How many times was that? Shit. “What’s wrong darling?” Sanji asked, sitting up. It was twelve times. You looked at him, frazzled and upset. “I’m so sorry,” was all you could manage to say as you ran out of the gazebo doors. Sanji’s face after you told him will be forever burned into your brain.

You ran and ran and couldn’t seem to slow down. You couldn’t possibly, you had no idea how much time you had left. You made your way through the castle, Sanji close on your trails and sending guards to chase after you. You made your way down the entrance stairs and into your carriage, which you could see rotting away by the second. As you jumped in, you couldn’t help but turn around and watch the castle as you drove away. You could even see Sanji, staring longingly out for you.

This was only for one night though. You needed to get that into your head or you would run straight back to him. You had a life to live. And you needed to go back to fulfill your duty. But this one night. This one perfect night. This was one you hoped to never forget.

a/n: you know how this story ends TRUST HE FINDS HER THROUGH THE SLIPPER AND EVERYTHING ENDS UP OKAY i just really didn't feel like writing all that lmao. hope you enjoyed (i sure did lol)

#sanji #vinsmoke sanji #sanji vinsmoke #opla #op #one piece #one piece sanji #x reader #sanji x reader #one piece au #au #alternate universe #cinderella au #fanfic #fanfiction #one piece fanfiction #one piece fanfic

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osiiiris · 5 months ago

Text

Armat Victoria Curam [One Shot]

Teacher!Cardinal Terzo x F!Reader

Saw this art from @cyberexe1 (cvb3r.exe on Instagram) and my mind hasn’t been the same since. Per artist permission, desperate nsfw brain rot follows. You won’t find any logic or plot here, just pure porn dreams and self indulgence. Always a thank you not big enough to @van-goghs-smoking-skull for their beta work ❤️‍🔥

Summary: Cardinal Emeritus III is your Latin teacher, and he catches you daydreaming during an important private lesson.

Warning: spanking, light degradation, teacher-student kink, dom!Terzo, a lot of manhandling, cunnilingus, fingering, pure pwp.

>> also on AO3

Cardinal Emeritus III pauses mid-sentence and turns his gaze towards you, waiting patiently for your response.

You're seated at his wooden desk, notebook open but untouched, your pencil idly twirling between your fingers. Your focus shifts from the latin words written on the book he’s pointing at to the way his lips move as he speaks.

You just realize that he’s asked you a question.

"Can you tell me the meaning of the word sanctificare?"

You blink, caught off guard, but you remember having heard that word in previous lessons.

"Something like, to make something holy…?"

Your heart flutters when he nods, approvingly; you are both equally surprised by that unexpected answer. "Good." He says, and you’d die to hear girl after it. "Armat Victoria curam*." is what he adds instead, with the smallest grin you’ve ever seen.

You smile shyly, and you like to think that what you see in his eyes is a glint of amusement everytime he catches you daydreaming. It makes you wonder if he has noticed that your uniform skirt has become shorter and shorter at each lesson, and now it is so meager that when you take your seat, your bare skin touches the wood of the chair.

He’s dressed in a tailored black button-down that fits perfectly on his slim, still youthful physique, and his neatly combed hair glints subtly in the light, so shiny and so black that you often wonder if it is even possible to find that shade in nature.

Every gesture he makes, from the slight movements of his hands to the way he occasionally adjusts his glasses, seems effortlessly graceful.

He keeps explaining the lesson, but his deep, accented voice only carries you in your imagination, where those hands grip the curves of your waist, pushing you down until you’re fully bent before him, your face pressed on the cold wood of his desk.

His eyes flicker from one word to the other when he reads, and his leather clad fingers slide on the paper, following the lines of the text. His words fade away slowly as you imagine how the material of his gloves would feel sliding on the soft skin of your inner thighs, making their way to your core, pressing against your pulsing clit and then sliding down, dipping in your dripping folds to his knuckles, and how your flesh would tighten around him. You wonder if you’d make him proud as he’d feel all your soft, throbbing flesh on his pressing palm.

You try to focus on the lesson, tapping the end of the pen on your bottom lip, but your mind keeps returning to him.

"You aren’t paying attention, are you?" He only gives you a quick yet deep glance at your figure, above his glasses, then he lazily gestures to come closer, "Come on, come here." he invites you, and after a moment of hesitation, you move your chair next to his. Now that you have him so close to you, your heart starts to pound in your chest, and sitting still is starting to become a problem.

You see him turning to you, looking at you for a split second with the corner of your eye, and when you turn to look at him too, he’s already focused on the book again, a swift movement he probably hoped you won’t notice. Maybe he smelt the cotton candy scent you sprayed on you right before entering the office, and you hope he doesn’t find it too naive.

He leans on the chair backrest and you can’t help yourself but let your glance fall to his crotch, and now you have to shift on your seat, feeling your pussy pulsing between your clutched thighs. What if he catches that glimpse of lust behind your gaze? There is no way he doesn’t know what he provokes in his students.

He calls you again, this time his tone is slightly more firm, almost annoyed. "You’re not going to pass this test if you don’t focus. This is important."

"You’re right, it’s just… my head hurts so much today, it distracts me…" You try to justify yourself but it must not sound terribly convincing. You prop your head on one hand, leaning with one elbow on the table. You tap the pen on your notebook, then look at him with soft eyes. "Are you sure there is no other way to pass the test…?"

He leans closer, so close that he moves your hair out of the way with the tip of his nose, and you hold your breath when you feel his lips close to your ear, modulating his voice with the softest and most soothing tone he can. "… Apart from studying? No."

You scoff, bored, and roll your eyes at his inflexibility. "Come on!" You complain, and boldly place a hand on his thigh, putting almost all your weight there as you lean closer to him this time. "Are you sure there is really no other way…?" You try again, this time softer and barely pouting; your thumb starts to draw little circles on his thigh. "Because I see many possibilities here…"

You can see the sparkle ignite his gaze. His hand moves slowly up towards your waist, then slides up and down your back, sneaking under your uniform shirt. His smile is smug as he meets your confident gaze and the little, cheeky smile you are challenging him with.

“Please…”

The hand that rested on his thigh is now so close to his crotch that you can touch the bulge forming under the fabric with the tips of your fingers. You slide in a bit more, feeling his length under your palm, hidden by the soft material of his pants. He is still mostly soft, resting on his leg, but you can clearly tell its shape, moving your hand around it.

He licks his lips and looks away, with that slightly annoyed expression of someone so used to dealing with bragging students like you everyday. He takes off his glasses, and keeps caressing your back while he seems to evaluate the situation.

"You like the easy way, my girl…"

He delicately frees your face from your hair, lingering so much on your ear that you instinctively flinch on your chair with a gasp that almost surprises you. Now your panties definitely feel wet.

He grabs your face, diving into the hair on your nape with the tips of his fingers as he caresses your jaw with his thumb, and your lips finally touch, already open and ready to let your tongues meet.

He pulls back, and his hand is now almost at your neck. He looks at your face, your blissful expression framed by his hand that keeps your head still. "What if I make it a bit harder…?"

As the kiss gets hungrier, you tighten the hold on his dick and he moans in your mouth. He drags his lips on your jaw, your neck, leaving wet smacks all over your skin. You moan when he grabs your breast, palming it above your shirt, and before he can start unbuttoning it, you stand up, with the clear intention to get down again between his legs and suck him off as he deserves to be, but he stops you right when you are standing in front of him.

"Stop stop stop…" he quickly halts you, and the fact that your groin is now so close to his face is enough for you to feel more fluid release in your panties.

He turns you around, bends you on the desk, moving you so that your legs are spread at each side of his chair as he sits in the middle behind you, and you’re sure he’s having a clear view of your sheer panties covering your moist cunt.

"Perhaps you’re more gifted at anatomy…"

You would think he’s joking, if he wasn’t so damn serious about it. He leans forward, so his face is only a few inches away from the skin that your little skirt can’t cover in that position.

"But we are studying Latin now. So... what's causing all this distraction? Hm?"

You shiver as his breath grazes over your skin, his hands slowly moving up your thighs. Then, you can feel the warm wetness of his mouth on your thighs and buttocks, and you let out a few, light moans.

You can’t see the playful look of disappointment he makes behind you, but you can hear his deep sigh. "Now, that's a shame, isn't it. I'm a busy man and you didn't even think to prepare for my class? Is that the respect you have for me?"

You try to answer, but the trembling, "I…," you start with gets abruptly interrupted by a slap that makes you squeak louder than you wanted.

"Look at how much time you’re making me waste."

And the new slap that follows makes his intention way too clear and your squeak louder than before.

He lets you catch your breath, while you gasp with your face pressed on the desk. Your hands are near your face, palms against the wood as the skin he hit starts to sting. He rubs your buttock, massaging the skin he had just slapped, and soon his rubbing becomes a full ass grab.

He delves under your impossibly short skirt to take long breaths of your natural scent, sweetened by the coconut body milk you spread all over your skin after the earlier shower; his face presses in your cunt, kissing it above your panties, letting himself go in deep moans of approval. You always come prepared to his private lessons, even if your preparation only involves long showers, the difficult decision of how to style your hair and a meticulous choice of body creams and fragrances that you usually spray on your ankles too, just in case.

You try to look at him from over your shoulder, lifting your head a little. You are surrounded by papers and stationery accessories, and the hand close to your face is now closed in a fist, having nothing to hold on to. His fingers slip under the sheer straps of your panties, pushing them down your thighs with an impatient jerk.

You breathe deeply, feeling his tongue slide between your folds, teasing your entrance kept wide by his hands. You arch your hips a little upwards, standing now on your tiptoes, enough to offer a better angle of your pussy to him. Soon you move your knee, reaching for the edge of the desk, encouraged by his hand that wants you even more spread, so you’re now standing with one foot on the floor and one thigh laying on the desk.

Your mouth falls open in a wide ‘O’ as you gasp for air, pressing your face even further on the table; your open lips touch the surface, obscenely kissing the wood while you breathe desperately on it, as the growing flame of your pleasure burns your insides. You want to lick him, feeling his meat filling your mouth as much as you can take it, hungry to try his taste. He adds two fingers to massage your clit first and then to sink into you, and you let out a long winded moan, trying to move forward when the intense shivers that anticipate your orgasm make your legs quiver and your breath unstable.

The loud noise of his chair being pushed away when he quickly stands up makes your head turn again to him, but you only see him standing behind you. Your expression changes to somewhat worried, you don’t know what to expect now, and you almost break your position, getting down on both legs again, but you soon feel his hands back on you.

"All you little brats only want one thing," you hear him say, so harsh you can’t tell if that is just a part he’s playing or not, "…only want the fucking cock, my fucking cock. Nobody cares about fucking culture anymore."

He tsks, mockingly shaking his head slowly back and forth before pulling you flush against him. He moves his hips, in a deliberate attempt to make you clearly feel his still hidden - but now hard - cock against your nude butt, in case you’d forget about it. He pushes two fingers inside you again, to test your resistance.

"There you go, you can have all of it now."

And as he says so, he lets his pants and brief boxers fall down on his knees. He directs his free cock between your buttocks, feeling you tighten around him as he slides in painfully slowly. You bite your lips, moaning deeply in relief, when he finally sinks so deep in you that his groin touches your skin.

You raise your head, extend your neck and close your eyes, and the only thing that matters is the feeling of him filling you, sliding almost completely out and in again with a little more force each time, until he finds a pace comfortable for both.

His thrusts make your hips and thighs crush against the desk, making all the books move at each impact, to the sound of your whines becoming more and more desperate, and the claps of your bodies colliding, mixed with your loud moans, is the only sound that fills the-

A singular clap of his hands drags you back into the room.

He’s now leaning towards you; his white eye gleams in the darkness of his deep black eye circles. He’s dressed. You’re dressed.

You take a second to realize you are still staring at his crotch, still sitting next to him.

"Are you still with me?"

You briefly and innocently smile at that question, nodding lightly.

Well, of course you are.

Notes

*Victory loves preparation

Dividers by @saradika-graphics

#the band ghost #the band ghost fanfiction #papa emeritus lll #terzo x fem!reader #terzo x reader #cardinal terzo #terzo

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