#within recognizable reason!

[bookwyrminspiration]

Quil Quil Quil Quil

I need help

I'm doing the portraits for Councillor Ramira and for Della and I need help with their outfits

Do I:

A) Make them traditional elven dresses with the high collars

B) Make them Canon compliant (I think??) and 1600's esque or do I

C) Make the dresses classy and probably showing more shoulders than elven society would like to a modern standard, because I have found some lovely dresses

-Heathen

Heathen! Hello! Well, based off what I've seen of the portraits so far canon compliance is the least of everyone's worries so long as the characters are marginally recognizable, so I vote C! I want to see collarbones I want tantalizing neck I want. shoulder. to rest my weary head upon.

I'd actually encourage you to draw what you'd like to draw and what suits your style and vision, but since you asked. If you've already found dresses for option c that you like then go for it!

Hope that helps! And that you have fun with the portraits and all that. I'm very curious to see everyone's work in the tournament :)

[fluentisonus]

really funny when musical productions make javert sound really posh. he would not sound like that <3

[yandere-daydreams]

Title: Foxglove and Oleander.

Pairing: Yandere!Sukuna x Reader (JJK).

Word Count: 6.0k

Commissioned by the very lovely @letstalktea.

TW: Heian Era AU, Wildly Unbalanced Power Dynamics, Blood + Violence, Deliberate Manipulation, Obsessive Behavior, and Implied Cannibalism.

Sukuna first arrived the night your chrysanthemums bloomed.

That was the only reason you weren’t in the temple when the fire reached it. Against your better judgement and the wishes of your superiors, you’d committed yourself to spending the night in the courtyard, carefully monitoring each delicate bud as they slowly unfurled and stained your garden with scattered blotches of bright, bleeding scarlet. In the morning, it would be your responsibility to gather each flower, dry their petals, and deliver them to the temple’s healers to use as medicinal herbs before you were allowed to get to your less seasonal chores, but tonight, the chrysanthemum belonged to you.

From your little corner of the courtyard, you watched as flames climbed the side of the side of the mountain, consuming the forest that surrounded your home before latching onto the servants’ barracks, then the outer sanctuaries, before finally reaching the main body of the temple. There were a few screams to accompany the fire’s first arrival, but they were quickly drowned out by the fire’s deafening roar, by the sound of buildings already mostly burnt away collapsing into themselves and putting their unfortunate occupants out of their misery. You could feel the heat, hear the others begin to flee, but it was only as the fire reached the peak of its gluttony that he emerged, entirely unscathed and painted with the blood of those you supposed you may have cared about, if you’d had more time. Sukuna, although you wouldn’t know to call him by that name, just yet.

It went without saying that he was hideous. Too many limbs, too many eyes, too many mouths – every part of him distorted with bulk and muscle and ink. His teeth struck you first, bared and glinting in the blinding firelight, then his clothing, the tattered and charred remains of what appeared to be a once fine kimono tied around his waist. He was carrying a spear, but he drove it into the ground as he stepped out of the inferno. There was something slung over his shoulder, too – a corpse, male and burnt beyond the point of recognizability – but that was abandoned just as thoughtlessly, left to rot on the outskirts of your garden. You were glad. Your chrysanthemums wouldn’t survive being crushed by such dead weight.

He didn’t notice you immediately. You stayed where you were, kneeling in the dirt, as he turned in either direction, taking in the devastation with a full-chested laugh. The noise was, in kinship with his appearance, unspeakably gruesome.  

Finally, he turned to face you, his eyes lighting up in spite of the stark shadows cast over his face. His spear was still within arm’s reach, but he made no attempt to retrieve it – holding out an open hand to you, instead. “Are you a monk or a maiden?” he asked, his voice more of a growl than anything proper, anything human. “I’ve already had my fill of the former, tonight.”

“A servant,” you answered, bowing your head by way of greeting. “I tend the gardens, among other things. Are you the one killing all the acolytes?”

“Among other things.” His tone had a mocking lilt, although he seemed far from vicious. You’d been warned about that, once, by someone very dear to you. You couldn’t remember the specifics, but the sentiment was still clear enough. ‘Do not fear the animal that bares its teeth, but the creature who lures you closer before it lunges’, or something like that. “I’m afraid I only have a taste for holy meat, tonight. Although, if you run, I’ll certainly take more enjoyment in striking you down.”

“I’m sorry, sir, but—”

“Lord,” he corrected. “Make that mistake again and it’ll be the last time I allow you the privilege of using your tongue.”

“My apologies, my lord.” Again, you bowed your head. “The high priest can be harsh with his discipline. My ankle is still healing, and I’m afraid I wouldn’t be able to move quickly enough for either of us to get very much out of it.”

He grinned, and the fire raged on behind him. “Grovel, then. Perhaps, if you manage to please me, I’ll be merciful and kill you quickly.”

He was clearly a man (man? monster? beast?) of great ego. You pressed your tongue against the roof of your mouth, trying to block out the taste of something harsh and acidic rising up from the back of your throat. “If it’s all the same to you,” you managed, eventually, sparing one last glance towards your chrysanthemums. They really were beautiful. You could only regret that you’d never get to see them in the light of day. “I’d really rather not. It seems like it be easier, to just… uh, let you get the job done, as it were.”

In his defense, his pride overshadowed his shock. That, or you simply weren’t the first person he’d met to pay your own life such little regard. “I’ve cut down braver men for bolder suggestions.”

“But you cut them down all the same.” You swallowed, dryly. It’d been a while since you’d last had anything to eat or drink – the better part of a day, at least – but you supposed you wouldn’t have to worry about that for much longer. “I’m sorry, my lord. I would try to run, but my ankle really does make things difficult.”

He regarded you for a moment, as yet another wing of the temple buckled under its own weight. You decided, as you stared back at him, that his eyes weren’t so terrible – the pair he was supposed to have, at least. Although currently narrowed and creased around the edges, they had a pleasant color, a unique shade of red that seemed to glow when it caught the firelight. At least one part of him was bearable to look at.

Finally, he broke the silence, his resonant voice taking on a more authoritative cadence. “Come.”

He didn’t extend a hand, or gesture for you to follow, only trekking onward – towards the temple’s gates, left open in the panic of the exodus.  Gingerly, weary of your injured ankle, you pushed yourself to your feet and hastened to his side. Sukuna only paid you glance by way of acknowledgement, but you didn’t mind. “Are you going to kill me in the woods, instead?”

“Uraume’s been asking for another set of hands.” You weren’t sure what he was talking about, but you nodded as if you understood entirely. He spared you a small, thoughtless smile, and you decided that he was also the type of man who often enjoyed the luxury of never being questioned. “If they don’t care for you, I’ll kill you wherever I wish.”

“Ah.” You passed under the temple gates by his side. Not long after that, you heard the great crash of stone into earth, and knew that those, too, had collapsed. “I hope it’s somewhere with lots of flowers. I’ve always wanted to die somewhere beautiful.”

His only answer was another, more lingering glance in your direction, a low bark of a laugh. Satisfied, you let the conversation lapse into silence and walked into the night by the side of a monster.

~

“How do you choose where to go?”

He didn’t respond, not immediately. Instead, one of his spare hands brought yet another grape to your lips, and with a pleased hum, you accepted it, savoring the sour tinge that accompanied the sweetness. From what you gathered, he preferred savory to sweetness, sweetness to bitterness, and bitterness to all other flavors that followed. He rarely ate anything that wasn’t the strange, ambiguous meat prepared by Uraume, his ever-smiling mastress of rituals, but the last village you’d passed through had a surplus of fruit. It’d seemed like a waste to let all of it rot, now that there was no one left to enjoy it.

It was strange – traveling with Sukuna and Uraume. They seemed to be on a pilgrimage of sorts, the destination unknown and the purpose one of endless carnage. Not that either of them expected you to participate in the devastation. No, as far as you could tell, you were regarded more as a servant, meant to be of aid to Sukuna when Uraume was otherwise occupied. Except, Uraume never seemed to be very occupied at all, and Sukuna very rarely needed aid, and you were often left in a position more akin to that of a pet than anything else – kept around predominantly because Sukuna found it entertaining to do so. Not that you minded. Pets were cherished and coddled. Pets never went hungry. Pets weren’t expected to be anything other than endearing and obedient, which wasn’t totally dissimilar to the things you were always expected to be, regardless of what you were supposed to call yourself.

Currently, you were taking shelter in an abandoned shrine not quite dilapidated enough to be considered unlivable, Uraume tending the hearth while Sukuna stared absent-mindedly at a map pilfered from the shine’s stockroom, the colored ink nearly too faded to read. You paid little mind to either of them – content enough to remain sprawled across Sukuna’s lap, one of his arms wrapped loosely around your waist. This was the first time you’d spoken in minutes, reluctant to break the comfortable silence. Sukuna didn’t seem to mind the sound of your voice, and you didn’t want that to change. “I don’t,” he admitted, eventually. He only spoke for himself, but it was given that you and Uraume would follow. “I go where I please. I only like to know that, when I arrive, there’ll be something worth my time waiting to receive me.”

“So particular, my lord.” You felt something tap against your bottom lip, and opened your mouth to accept a perfectly sweet, perfectly ripe strawberry. “Tell me, then – what would please you?”

He seemed to think for a long moment. Finally, he asked, “What village were you born to?”

His intention went unspoken, but the implication was clear. Sukuna’s sole pastime was destruction, with the target of his ire being any person, town, or creature unfortunate enough to cross his path. Although you’d never seen him go out of his way to find prey before, you were sure willingly pointing him in the direction of vulnerable quarry would result in a predictable outcome.

“Oh, I wouldn’t know. Things like that can be so hard to remember,” you said, which wasn’t untrue. Your memory was a fickle thing – uncooperative on your best days and deliberately misleading on your worst. “You know, being a baby at the time and all.”

His fingers drummed thoughtfully against your side. “You must have family somewhere, servant.”

“Not necessarily.” You shut your eyes to stop yourself from squirming, sighing as you rested your head against his shoulder. “My parents abandoned me before I was old enough to learn their names. A scrap collector took me in some time after that, but he traveled quite often, and I lost track of him years ago.” You paused, shook your head. “Like I said, things like this can be difficult to remember. I’m sorry, my lord.”

There was a slight hum, a momentary lapse. Abruptly, you felt his hands shift to your waist, Sukuna repositioning your smaller form with all of the strength and all of the thought it might’ve taken an ordinary person to right a toppled-over doll. Your back came to rest against his chest as one of his spare hands cupped your chin, directing your attention towards the yellowed map. “Pick somewhere,” he muttered, his voice low and his lips close enough to ghost over the shell of your ear. “Anywhere. Before I pull your unhelpful little tongue out of your throat.”

“Of course, my lord.” Acquiesce came first, a real answer second. Your gaze fell to the map in front of you. It took a second, but you found what you were looking for quickly enough. “Here,” you said, pointing to an area north of your current location. “There’s a village in the eastern corner of this valley with a small population of young farmers and very little in the way of redeeming qualities. But, in the town square, there grows a cherry blossom tree tall enough to scrap against the belly of the sky with branches that stretch as far as the eye can seem. When it blooms, its petals are great enough in volume to carpet the surrounding acre in pink.” You straightened your back, decisively avoiding sinking back into his chest. “I… I wouldn’t mind visiting it again, if it would please my lord.”

It was a dangerous thing to do – showing your hand so plainly. You’d grown so used to keeping your cards tucked snuggly against your chest, even talking this openly felt as if you’d been stripped bare and put on exhibition in front of him.

But, if Sukuna realized that he was the audience to your performer, he neglected to acknowledge it. He only looked toward Uraume, who perked to attention immediately. They were good at that – pretending not to listen. Not as talented as you, of course, but good nonetheless. “We start traveling east tomorrow,” he said, with a dismissive wave of his hand. “I’m adding another leg to our journey.”

His primary attention remained on them, but a few of his unblinking secondary eyes – repulsive in their lack of necessity – darted to you, watching for any signs of satisfaction, of pleasure. You only schooled your expression, retreating into your own mind to count the days until the cherry blossoms bloomed.

~

It took a surprising amount of time for you to catch Uraume in the act. Not overly long, but more time than you would’ve expected with them making no particular effort to hide the evidence of their ‘ritual preparation’ and you making no exceptional attempt to avoid finding out why their snow-white sleeves were so often stained red. If allowed to, you might’ve gone on living in the bliss of plausible deniability until your time with Sukuna and his chosen companionship came to an end, but he was not so kind, and there was little entertainment to be had in such a passive participant.

Still, you would’ve liked another week, another month, another season. You’d never cared for kitchens, but you cared for them least when they reeked of rotting meat.

The stench was almost worse than the sight – almost, but not quite. Then again, you were struggling to think of something worse than Uraume, all practiced tranquility and iced-over smiles, elbow-deep in the cavity a long dead middle-aged man, his body bare and spread over the stone countertop. You recognized him not by his face, but by his features – his wealth-fattened face, his uncalloused hands, the lack of definition to his legs that those who toiled could rarely afford to go without. He must’ve been the lord who owned the palace you currently found yourself residing in – a sprawling, decadent structure that it’d taken hours to clean after the massacre. Sukuna would survive wherever his whims lead, but he preferred to be comfortable. You didn’t mind. You preferred it when Sukuna was comfortable, too.

 It was clear they hadn’t been expecting you, either. Their dark eyes bored into you where you lingered in the doorway, a wicker basket on your hip and your robes still dusted with soil. Most of your day had been spent in the palace gardens. Its former caretaker had planted their shiso along the garden wall, where it would only receive partial sun in the best season – a common enough mistake, for how easy it was to mistake for basil, and a tricky one to correct. An experienced caretaker should’ve known better, but as the herbs were still alive while their keeper was very much not, you could consider their negligence repaid.

You made the first move –bowing at the waist by way of greeting. “Lord Sukuna asked me to fetch his tea,” you explained, as you straightened your back. You didn’t feel the need to mention that’d he’d sought you out in your gardens to do so. “I thought I’d bring you a few herbs in the same trip. My apologies, it wasn’t my intention to disturb you.”

The corner of their lips quirked downward. It wasn’t quite a frown, but it was the closest thing to one that you’d ever earned from them. You weren’t upset. Even glowering, they would’ve been breath-taking. “He wanted you to see my—” They paid a glance toward the dismembered lord, their arm still buried in his chest. “My preparations.”

“It would seem so.”

“And he wanted to know how you’d react. There’s a good chance he’ll ask me about this, later on.”

“I’d say it’s more of a certainty.”

“I’d understand it, if you wanted to leave. I know there are few ordinary humans who can stomach tasks so—” Another pause, this one longer than the first. Clearly, they were making an attempt to watch their tongue. “—needlessly visceral.”

“If I did try, how long would you give me before telling Sukuna?” This time, they choose to hold their tongue entirely, their slight frown deepening into a full-blown scowl. It took everything you had not to let your own satisfaction shine through.

Rather, you paid them another shallow bow before the threshold and setting down your basket on the nearest length of empty counter. “It’s mostly shiso, but I found some usable ginger and garlic, too, and a few stalks of parsley. Is there anything I can do to help?”

After a moment of consideration, Uraume shook their head. It only took a few minutes to make the tea you’d been sent to fetch, but they were minutes passed in silence, undisturbed save for the quiet chime of ceramic against ceramic. They didn’t start their own work again until you’d left the kitchen entirely, which you were thankful for. They’d been right. There were few humans with stomachs so strong as to withstand such grisly tasks, and you’d never counted yourself among them.

Sukuna had claimed the master’s chambers for himself, of course. You let yourself in without knocking, immediately finding Sukuna sprawled across the wonderfully ornate futon that dominated most of the floorspace. He smiled when he saw you, but his expression fell as soon as you returned the gesture.

He didn’t mention Uraume, or the kitchens, or the thick stench of iron-tinged blood that now seemed to fill every corner of the vast estate. You hummed as you poured his tea, and remained at his bedside as he took a long drink, followed shortly by an approving nod. You tried to make your escape quickly, already fantasizing about retreating back to your secluded garden, but Sukuna caught you before you could so much as turn towards the door. “Attend to what you must,” he started, his tone simultaneously dismissive and attention-seeking. “But return here, when you’re done. Bring your belongings, too – you won’t be going back to your bedroom again.”

You didn’t falter, but not for lack of reason to. You’d chosen your bedroom carefully, surveyed the better half of the residential wing before finding quarters that suited you. It was sparse by way of comforts and furniture, but the sole window looked over the mountainside, the landscape stretching on for miles upon miles without interruption. You would’ve been pressed to think of a finer view.

“As you wish.” And then, with a chirp of a laugh, “You know, we spend so much time with one another while traveling. I thought you would’ve taken our stationary periods as an excuse to get away from Uraume and I.”

“If I had a weaker will, maybe.” He reclined, let his head lull to the side, as if inviting you to counter, to protest – or worse, to step closer. “Why? Do you have something to say, servant?”

“Only how pleased I am to be of service to my lord.” You could’ve bowed, but decided against it. This time, when you took your leave, Sukuna was kind enough not to get in your way. Then again, he didn’t have a reason to.

He must’ve known that you were always going to come back.

~

“Who gave you permission to leave, servant?”

No one, but you’d hoped he wouldn’t notice until you were already gone. Stifling the urge to cringe, you turned on your heel and retreated back to the riverbank, not far from where Sukuna had left his robes, deliberately keeping your eyes on the ground. He rarely let you leave his side, but having you remain within eyeshot while he bathed was a newer development – and a tricker one to justify to yourself, at that. You were still allowed to remain more of a voyeur than a participant, but you weren’t naive enough to believe that he’d allow there to be such a great distance between you for much longer.

“I’m sorry, my lord.” Your eyes may have been downcast, but your voice was a light and as upbeat as ever. “I only hoped to catch Uraume before they finished. Servants have to bathe too, you know, and those of us with no limbs to spare can be rather hesitant to do so alone so deep into the forest.”

“Join me, then.”

Ah.

You should’ve been expecting that, honestly. You had no one but yourself to blame.

“My lord,” you managed with an airy laugh, feigning disbelief. “I’m just not sure if someone of my position should—”

Considering Sukuna’s size, he could move impressively fast. You’d only managed to take half a step back before you felt a hand curling around your wrist, pulling you off of the bank and into the river. You managed to take all of two stumbling steps forward before your foot caught on a slick river stone and you fell to your knees, ice-cold water immediately soaking through your thin robes. Sukuna made no effort to catch you, laughing as you tripped over yourself. He’d always seemed terrible to you, but you couldn’t remember the sound of his voice ever being so vile.

Biting back a sigh or some other, more telling show of displeasure, you started to push yourself to your feet, but stopped as soon as you felt Sukuna’s fist curl around your collar, another finding the back of your head. In a brief moment of blissful obliviousness, you thought he meant to help you – or, to restrain you and savor your humiliation for a few seconds longer, at the very worst. You almost thanked him, as little as your gratitude meant to Sukuna.

Then, your head was forced below the water, and you thought better of it.

It happened too suddenly to brace yourself. Your first reaction, operating purely out of instinct, was to open your mouth and try to breathe in – an idea as primal as it was unhelpful. Frigid water flooded into your mouth, your throat, liberating you from any amount of air you might’ve been able to hold onto and filling the now-vacant space with a chill that seemed to bite into your throat and leave everything it touched throbbing, numb. Your second was to thrash against Sukuna’s hold – which was, predictably, equally as useless. He was stronger than you could ever hope to be, than any real human being ever should be. Thick fingers threaded themselves into your hair, the hand holding the collar of your robes falling away only to find the nape of your neck, cementing your place at his mercy.

You tried to be rational, to exhale, to not panic, but something thick and solid seemed to be lodged at the base of your throat, and you couldn’t think about breathing without choking, and it was hard not to panic when you were hyper-aware that you were going to be drowned in some godforsaken river in some heartless forest at the hands of an unlovable monster. You were running out of air too quickly – you were supposed to have more time. He couldn’t have dragged you down any longer than a minute ago, but you could already feel an acute throbbing in your temples, make out dark spots dancing in the corners of your vision. Your body thrashed and stiffened in turns, but it was only when your form went limp in his hold that Sukuna jerked you back to the surface – hauling you back to the shore and letting you collapse onto the welcoming sand. He stood by, his grin the embodiment of mirth, as you hacked up acid-tinged water and blinked back tears, sucking in shallow breaths between coughing fits. Every inhale left your chest tense and aching, though, and every exhale felt like you were giving up something precious, something irreplaceable. You did your best to ignore the strain, to put it out of your mind. You had a feeling it would be some time before you could breathe painlessly again.

It took long, agonizing minutes for you to so much as begin to recover, but Sukuna remained by your side, waiting patiently. At some point, he lowered himself to your height – falling into a crouch and bringing a hand up to your back, rubbing circles into the apex of your spine as you coughed and clawed at the shore. He didn’t hum, or speak, or apologize, but you hadn’t expected him to. To initiate would be to taint what he sought so violently: your reaction. He wouldn’t do anything to spoil his prize, not so close to victory.

No, he wouldn’t dare.

The responsibility of denying him fell solely to you.

“My—”You tried to raise your head, to look at him, only to cut yourself off – another lungful of brackish water forcing its way past your lips before you could find your voice again. “My lord,” you managed, eventually. “If you’d like to bathe together, please give me a moment to undress, first. You know how long it can take cotton to dry.”

To his credit, his composure held. There was another throaty laugh, a sudden edge to his smile. “You should be more careful, songbird. One day, I’m going to eat you alive, and your last words to me are going to how glad you are to serve your master one last meal.”

“There would be no greater honor.” You managed an unsteady smile before dropping your head low, curling into yourself, and coughing up until your throat burnt and your rib cage seemed ready to burst. Sukuna only shook his head, taking you by the shoulders and leaning you against his chest, ensuring your stability before his attention shifted to your robes. With a surprising delicacy, he undid the sash bound around your waist, shrugging off your ruined yukata and carrying you back into the water. Your nails bit into his chest, but if he felt your involuntary resistance, it wasn’t enough to deter him.

Your body was lowered gingerly into one of the river’s shallower portions, and Sukuna kneeled behind you, one of his hands coming up to cup your cheek. You shut your eyes, but you could still feel his thumb tracing idly over your cheek, his chest reverberating against your back as he all but purred in delight. “I could hear your heart racing as I pushed you under.” And then, with a feather-light kiss to the top of your head, “It’s a relief to know there’s at least one part of you I can trust to be honest with me.”

You didn’t answer – only smiling as you melted into his palm.

~

The cherry blossom tree was larger than you’d remembered.

The village that surrounded it had grown, too. That made sense – it’d been years since you last passed through this area, and such a lovely corner of the world was bound to attract merchants and traveling warriors and those who, like yourself, simply found themselves drawn to beautiful things. You’d been able to see its wonderous branches rising above the horizon days before you were supposed to reach the village, started catching sakura petals on the breeze while you were still hours away from the nearest scrap of civilization, and a small part of you died upon being told that you would have to wait until after sunrise for your reunion, until Sukuna had finished glutting himself on blood and death and misery. Not that you listened. Uraume was tasked with looking after you, but they weren’t difficult to slip away from. They seemed to be fond of you – or, at least, surprisingly sympathetic to their master’s newest pet. Either way, they let you go without much of a struggle.

An hour or so after midnight, you made your way through fleeing crowds, maneuvering around mounds of disembodied extremities and between flame-eaten farmhouses, still in the early stages of burning down. Wherever Sukuna went, the fire seemed to follow, so you tried to stay where the light seemed the dimmest, where the smoke seemed the thinnest, focused solely on finding your way to the center of town – to the cherry blossom. You couldn’t make out its silhouette against the pitch-black landscape, but you didn’t need to. You would’ve been able to find your way to it on instinct alone.

That being said, now that you stood before it, you found it hard to believe that you’d come to the right village, let alone the right tree.

You didn’t remember your cherry blossom looking quite so… absent.

It was as if some great and wrathful deity had broken your sakura off at the base and spirited its body away, leaving only a charred stump behind. There was evidence that there had been more, at some point – pale pink petals littering the ground, a rope fence that had to have once guarded more than desecrated remains – but the cherry blossom was gone, as the village built around it would be by sunrise. It was cruel, really, when you could put your own despair aside long enough to use such tame vernacular. It was monstrous.

Speaking of monsters – yours was quick to rear his ugly head.

He’d never looked more terrible. Ash tainted the pale color of his hair, blood and gore staining his chest, his face, his hands. As always, he carried no weapon, and as always, he was entirely uninjured, untouched save for the byproduct of the devastation he’d wrought. You watched him approach in your peripheral, bracing yourself a moment before four arms wrapped around your smaller body and pulled you into a stone-hard chest. You knew better than to attempt to resist Sukuna, but this might have been the first time you were tempted to try.

“Songbird,” he muttered, the petname salt to a fresh wound. If he was surprised, let alone angry that you’d snuck away from Uraume, your disobedience caused him no strife. “I come bearing gifts.”

The upper of his two left hands uncurled, revealing a long, stick-like object. A hairpin, you realized, after a moment, the prong of a fine dark mahogany. It boasted only a single ornament: a small, expertly made glass flower. A cherry blossom, to be more specific.

You’d never been quick to anger. For as long as you could remember, in fact, you’d never found yourself angered by much of anything before.

You tasted blood before you realized you were biting your tongue; swallowing back a scream, or howl, or some other unsightly noise. It took you longer than you would’ve liked to regain your composure, but Sukuna was preoccupied, his attention dedicated solely to burying his face in the crook of your neck, to clutching onto you so tightly, you had to wonder how he’d ever managed to let go. It’d been inane to ever compare yourself to a pet, to something so cherished. It’d been inane to ever believe you were anything more than the favored plaything of a drooling, overgrown mutt.

With trembling hands, you plucked the hairpin out of his palm and held it up appraisingly. When Sukuna raised his head, his pointed teeth still lingering against your throat, you did the only thing you could think to – smiling as you leaned into him. “It’s beautiful.” And then, with a sigh, “It’s only a shame to have missed the real thing.”

For all of Sukuna’s faults, you could only be thankful that pride was among them.

“You don’t have to worry.” A hand found your jaw, holding you in place as he pressed a kiss into your temple. “I had more than my fill before you arrived.”

As you watched the village burn in his arms, you thought only of the color of chrysanthemums and the taste of iron, heavy on your tongue.

~

Someone had told you, once, that all the loveliest flowers bloomed under moonlight.

You watched the sky as you waited – your eyes never leaving the sliver of it you could see through small, barred window built into the opposing wall. He’d taken you to another vacant temple, tonight, claimed the head priest’s chambers as his den, and you’d followed lovingly, never uttering so much as a word of complaint. You’d let him rest his head in your lap, raked your fingers through his hair, and brought a cask of sweet wine laced with bitter herbs to his lips whenever he threatened to stir. Eventually, his eyes eased shut, his pulse slowing and his expression dulling into something calm, something docile. If you hadn’t known better, you might’ve started to doubt that he was a monster at all.

You didn’t move, didn’t shift, didn’t make a run for the door. You only reached into your sleeve, fetching the cherry blossom hairpin he’d gifted you weeks ago, now, the hairpin you carried dutifully ever since. You waited for him to turn onto his side, revealing the unarmored half of his face, before aligning the pointed tip with his ear, raising it above your head, and plunging it—

You felt his fingers dig into your thigh, another hand latching onto your hip. Your back slammed into the stiff futon with enough force to knock the air out of your lungs – leaving you breathless and paralyzed in an instant. When you recovered enough to think, you found Sukuna above you, straddling your waist, a hand planted on either side of your head. He was breathing heavily, as if excited. You knew it was impossible, but you found yourself wishing that he’d find a way to regurgitate his own lungs and choke on them.

“My lord,” you started, each word measured. You were careful to keep your voice low, your smile perfectly saccharine. “I’m sorry, did I wake you up?”

 His response was a manic smile, a bark of a laugh. “It’s too late to play innocent.” He lowered himself that much closer to you, his chest a hair’s width from making contact with yours. “How many times have you poisoned my wine, songbird?”

“Poisoned? Never.” You’d let go of your hairpin in the collision. Currently, it was lying against the wall to your right – just an inch or so out of your reach. There were other, more accessible weapons closer to you, but if you were going to kill Sukuna, you wanted it to be with that abomination. “If my lord is asking how many times I’ve treated his wine with herbs and spices, then twice. Once to see how he handled his drink, and tonight.”

You’d done him a disservice – writing him off as simply monstrous. He was more beast-like than anything, with his back arched and his talons dug into the bedding, with eyes so wide and so vibrant you believed, if only for a second, that he would manage to burn holes through your skull. “A day will come,” His anticipation was palpable. It was a wonder how such a glutton could ever sound so starved. “Where nothing will fall from you sweet lips but my praises, and I will know beyond the shadow of a doubt that you mean every last word.”

For once, you could only say what you meant. “I’d rather fucking die.”

There was a change to his animal posture, a glint of white teeth in moonlight, and then his mouth was crashing into yours – all fangs and tongue and intensity. Mindlessly, operating off of your own sort of base impulse, you reached out, your fingertips just barely brushing against the prong of your hairpin.

It was only as you curled your fist around it that you kissed him back, unable to suppress your grin.

[robboyblunder]

As promised I went ahead and continued my "ghoul guide" with a part 2 (part one linked in replies)! This one covers stuff specifically with a made up lore guide of in-world ghoul stuff as if they were a sort of unique magic entity.

This one wound up way longer and had to be split so expect a third final one eventually lmao. for now though... I'm gonna take a break and yell. Bonus extra info plus the transcript under the cut!

ID in ALT text!

Bonus note: While not portrayed in the guide, it’s important to know a detail about ghouls’ origin called “memory echoes”. While ghouls are formed from humans past who lose all memory of their previous self while maintaining an assumed personality from before, at times certain instances of events, actions, items, and otherwise can trigger these “echoes”. Echoes are very rare, but a valued treasure to ghouls; they make them feel more connected to their past and more “human”. Upon triggering an echo, a ghoul will become completely listless, unable to respond or react until the echo has completed, usually within seconds.

“Memory echoes” are described as blurry faded memories that often show featureless shapes and colors, but a very strong “feeling” of a Deja-vu of the moment. They feel viscerally real and can have a mix of the senses i.e. touch and smell, but produce no recognizable faces or imagery of the self. No ghoul has ever reported fully remembering one, nor any semblance of their true past beyond the haunting leftovers.

Begin Transcript:

A Compendium of Hell’s Derivates

While there are many theories on the demonic nature of ghouls,

The true source is surprisingly Human.

Souls cannot be recreated; rather, they’re Recycled and Reborn

The cycle of ghoul creation started for unknown reasons…

But one thing is Certain:

Natural forces do not change easily.

Raw elements collide with the fuel of life itself until one connects

by His command

A violent injection of pure elemental magic

Rewrites and erases all memory and one’s past, drastically altering the soul…

These new powers lend to the powerful allies of the ministry,

However….

… new powers are a dangerous toy.

While coined as “Feral”, new ghouls would better be designated “Raw”, “Unbound”, and “Lawlessly Dangerous”

First formed, they are still elements;

Torrential, Aimless,

Incapable of coherent thought or rules

-but with time, coherence returns to the individual

Who grows much like a life cycle’s stages without necessarily aging.

The overall cycle is the same per ghoul, yet varied enough each rises differently…

First form: “Raw” – Second form (1): “Feral” – Second form (2) – Third form: “Stabilized”

Catalyst, violent, poor formation – Unaware, wild, chaotic – Conscious; can act like oneself; less raw – fully formed and recognizable

The first form, “Raw”, is notably so violent the devil himself does not release them until stage two.

The second form in stage one of a “Feral” ghoul is much like the forces of nature; free willed and wild, understanding minimal speech.

Take caution: they can be mischievous and cause decent damage.

In the second stage of a “Feral” ghoul, they behave like typical people; however, they’re still very free and may choose to never fully stabilize.

Note: you can tell they’ve reached this stage by presence of a tail and civil habits.

If desired, a ghoul reaches the final form: “Stabilized”. They’re transformed into a stable humanoid body, a form less powerful but safer.

Note: Talented ghouls can change form at will in this stage between secondary Feral and Stable.

When it comes to location, each form is most likely to be found:

Raw: Hell, contained

Feral (Stage 1): wilds/natural areas

Feral (Stage 2): wilds and civil areas

Stabilized: anywhere people go

Seeing feral ghouls is not uncommon, and can even be considered lucky!

They tend to provide free protection to keep their home

Ghouls can only stabilize via ministry ritual;

One can assume they’re ministry members if stable, even off duty.

Ghouls are uncommon, but found most places if looked for;

This seems especially true near ministry placements.

Ghouls only form from adults and don’t “age” traditionally, yet they’re still mortal

Deceased ghouls do not seem to return or recycle.

Summoning intentionally pulls only second stage feral ghouls or stable ghouls from anywhere,

They don’t always like this however (see other guide).

The cycle of ghouls serves a main purpose – as forces for the Dark One, in return for rebirth

However, there are two channels through which they serve.

1) Natural defense against corrupted holy magic

Non-stable ghouls defend at will naturally where they live

2) training to fight, protect, and uphold the ministry’s efforts in the name of the Devil.

Contrary to belief, summonings cannot grab from “nothing”;

Like the creation of a ghoul,

Their element, once developed, is what becomes pulled by nature

The force of such pull is incredible,

A disorientating test of will so great…

…it can render even the most sound minds rather violent.

This is why while some choose to stabilize, others may not;

But should a mind change, they can be freed or re-summoned.

Alternative to wild summoning, one can summon from trained ghouls over feral;

Many ghouls are trained for ministry positions all over, but any can be summoned if unassigned.

Though stabilized, unassigned ghouls are not contractually bound to anyone until assigned.

They’re great for extra work hands and being able to know what kind of team mates you’ll get without leaving it to chance.

Summoning any ghoul however reverts them to feral form, and the challenge to tame them remains the same.

Just because you know a ghoul does not mean an easy summon.

Finally, be warned: forcing unwanted breaking or upholding of a summoning contract

Will have dire consequences.

Aside from rarity of an element, there are “power classes” within each element.

Tiers:

Rarity of an element does not equal strength.

The break down is as follows:

Rare – extreme and dangerous power. These ghouls earn a specialized title.

Quite strong, stand out in their class and very sought after.

Most common tier; average and decent powers that are expectable.

Weak powers, but some uses are applicable.

Uncommon – ghouls who possess little to no powers. Ghouls in this tier may at times suddenly change power tier without warning to any other category.

S-Tier ghouls are quite rare and a sight to behold- truly, they embody nature’s power.

End transcript.

[spxllcxstxr]

At Least in that Life • S

(Gif not mine)

Request:

Summary: Ekko finds that Silco is alive and well with his wife by his side in the alternate timeline. He feels the need to tell you about it

Warnings: fem!reader (called wife at some points), no pronouns used though I believe, canon death mention, AU mention, implied Timebomb, angsty : ) , mentions of canon unhealthiness that comes with living in the Undercity, timeline is screwy but idc and neither should you LOL

Word Count: 2.3k

A.N: listen, i know he was a little fruity with Vander in the AU BUT i still need this man desperately, don't worry about the timeline i stg, this is actually pretty sad lmao, have fun with it

•

Ekko stares at the man behind the bar; face simultaneously instantly recognizable and drastically changed. The scar was the same mangled mess across one side of his face, but that was where the similarities ended.

In his timeline, Ekko remembers Silco as a cruel bastard with only room in his heart for his wife and Jinx. He never smiled nor ever had reason to. This Silco had a glint of brightness in eyes, even in the orange mutated one, that he would've never associated with the crime lord. The boy stands there, facing the middle-aged man in front of him as he waves his goblet around, body flowing with movement; no strain evident in his posture.

He's talking, Ekko knows this, they're all speaking to him like they aren't either dead or an enemy. But they aren't--these versions of the people he once knew in his own timeline are different.

His eyes drift briefly to you, teeth bared in a smile he hasn't seen since he was a child. You look like that one day, seemingly ages ago, when you kept and eye on him, Powder, and Violet, just days before the uprising. At that point you hadn't been corrupted by the deaths of your closest friends or your husband's vile need for justice. You had a sort of youth to you, though your hair was twinged with greys like Vander's and Silco's, you were practically wrapped around his slender frame, gesturing wildly.

Life had not just been given to Vander, but to you and Silco as well.

His breath hitches and his head throbs with a sharp pain unlike any other.

Ekko squeezes his eyes shut, the vibrancy of the Anomaly imprinted on the backs of his eyelids. Distantly, he hears Powder's voice, like a song in his ear, with a type of kindness he's almost completely forgotten.

When he snaps back to reality, whatever that now meant, he was sitting at a table, away from the bar, with Powder to his right and Mylo and Claggor across from him. They watch him, expecting him to act normal, like he was meant to be here.

"I think you might actually be going crazy," Powder laughs, the sound like a sweet summer breeze as it drifts by him. Her eyes scan over him worriedly.

Ekko swallows roughly, willing the wave of sickness to pass quicker. "I--I'm fine. I think I'll just grab water or something?" Swiftly he rises from his seat, partially unbalanced. He hates that his clothes are a perfect fit and his shoes are comfortable enough he can wiggle his toes around.

He walks to the bar, the sounds of rowdy laughter and girlish giggles surrounding him. The ease of it all is overwhelming.

"What'll you have, Ekko? Your usual?"

Ekko glances at you, taking you in now that you're within arm's reach. The only sign of age are your laugh lines around the corners of your lips. Gone are the sunken, tired eyes and ghastly paleness of skin caused by the contaminated air of the Undercity. You were healthy; sure there were a few scrapes here and there, but your cheeks were filled out, Ekko noticed.

"U-usual?" He manages to croak out before the silence got too concerning.

Obviously worried, your brows furrow and lips purse. "I'll just get you a water then, huh? You're not acting like yourself." You busy yourself, bringing up a glass from the shelf at your knees.

Silco is on the other side of the bar, talking to strangers with Vander. He barks out a laugh, nothing he's ever heard before, and runs his free hand through his already ruffled hair.

The glass clinks on the wooden table in front of him, snapping him out of his trance.

"Are you sure you're ok, Ekko? You don't look so good..." You place the back of your hand to his forehead, reaching over the bartop. The coolness of your skin brings him relief, but he knows you're not going to find he has a high temperature. Physically, he was mostly fine. Mentally, however, was another story.

He thinks about how most of these people are dead men walking or empty shells of their former selves back where he's from. Ekko can't shake the empty feeling he has in his heart.

This was the way things should have been.

"So how are things with you and Silco?" He asks, ignoring your previous question as you bring your hand back to your side.

Leaning against the bar you inspect him for just a moment longer. The boy picks up his glass and almost drains it in one go, which seems to satisfy you for now.

"Me and Sil?" You glance at him quickly, face burning. "We're married, kid, we bicker and are right pricks to each other...but in the end we love each other more than anything in the world. That's how it goes." You sigh, resting your head in one of your hands thoughtfully. "Why do you ask?"

Ekko fiddles with the collar of his shirt. "He just seems so happy. Despite...everything, y'know?"

Lips tilt down slightly in a solemn frown. "It was hard for him, forgiving, that is. He thought we had to endure bloodshed to assert Zaun's rightful existence; he thought it was the only way to get Piltover to listen." Your eyes glance down to the polished wood holding you up. "It was all he knew. And after the incident...after losing our friends and his eye...it was all just a hard pill to swallow."

Silco's laugh once again echoes through the air. You smile immediately, head perking up at the mere noise of your husband. "I never thought I'd see him smile after what we lost--after Vander's wakeup call." Ekko watches as your eyes grow wet with unshed tears. "But here he is, my Silco, living the life he always dreamt of..."

"And you?" Ekko shifts from side to side, feet shuffling below him.

"What about me?" You ask, willing the tears away, busying yourself with wiping the countertop between the two of you.

"Are you happy as well?"

For a moment, you pause, pondering the weight of his question. Ekko, the boy you've come to treat as your son, the boy you trust your Powder with, looks at you like you're not quite right. His eyes gaze into your soul with an intensity that's hard to decipher.

Little moments from your life flash before your eyes; swaying to music with Silco in your kitchen as dinner cooks on the stovetop, you and Vander venturing into Piltover to get more supplies for the bar, Silco's soft gaze and his warm lips against your skin.

"I never thought I could ever be this happy." You tell him truthfully, voice just slightly above a whisper.

Something breaks in his eyes, in his demeanor, but he nods anyway. Something wasn't right--that much was obvious, but before you're able to pick his brain he leaves you at the bar, almost sprinting back to Powder and his friends. She greets him with a smile but her fingers twitch nervously under the table.

With a huff you attend to the other patrons at the bar, occasionally catching Ekko's eye as you walk around your space. He watches you and Silco work in tandem like husband and wife. Even with Ekko's mind already severely overwhelmed with the world around him, he notices when your fingertips purposefully brush when handing glassware over to the other and the small kisses that accompany some flirtatious or loving remark. His head spins and senses buzz with the overload of what could have been.

He leaves without saying goodbye to you or Silco, thought you do call out to him before he exits, you, wrapped in Silco's arms.

"I don't know how to tell you this--or even if I should tell you this." Ekko sits in front of you, tinkering with his hoverboard. Jinx stands feet away, quietly eavesdropping while glancing over blueprints she probably already knows by heart. "But Jinx said you might wanna know."

With a frown already etched into your face, you raise your eyebrows at him. You hadn't spoken to Ekko in years especially since Vander's betrayal of your husband and Vi's abandonment of Jinx. But with Piltover and Zaun under attack, he requested your presence with the Firelights. You parted ways with your husband's right hand man Sevika, hoping that you would see each other again, but predicting that that simply wasn't realistic.

"Just spit it out, kid." You reply, exhaustion lacing your words. Fatigue had infiltrated deep in your bones; Silco's death had taken a large toll on you--you were the last of you little makeshift family alive, though Vander was dead to you long before his final breath left his body.

You were quite the contrast to you counterpart in the alternate timeline. Ekko knew this before, but the accentuated frown lines and lifelessness that surrounded your very being just hit him full force.

He takes a deep breath, cautious of how you were going to react. "I went to an alternate timeline and Silco was alive there." Ekko forces out in one breath.

You stare blankly at the boy, your mind somehow not registering what he was saying.

"That was my reaction too..." Jinx murmurs, her voices echoing in the vastness of her metal lair.

A wave of vertigo washes over you, submerging you in its depths. It's hard to breathe. But somehow you will yourself to stay calm in present company. Now was not the time to be weak.

"An alternate timeline?" You manage to ask weakly, drawing your arms closer to your chest and uneasily wrap them around your frame.

"Don't even ask me to explain it because I don't think I could," Ekko chuckles humorlessly. "But it was a timeline where Zaun and Piltover were at peace, where you could openly cross the bridge and not worry about what would happen to you. Zaun and Piltover thrived together."

You scoff at the notion, shaking your head in disbelief. "Are you sure this wasn't a dream?"

"No. This was real." Ekko's deep brown eyes gaze into yours, something painful swimming in his irises. He's different from the boy you once knew; he's seen something, dealt with something he had lost--had to leave behind. The seriousness laced in his tone convinces you.

You nod, indicating that he can continue as you pick at your nails. You try to brace yourself for whatever he's about to say, but you can't. There was no way to predict what was going to come out of his mouth. But the thought of Silco being alive somewhere kills you inside; your stomach churns and your heart aches for your one and only.

Ekko only sighs before explaining to you what he saw, occasionally pausing to recollect his thoughts or add another component onto his hoverboard.

He tells you about the Silco that could have been--should have been--yours. How his laughter filled the already boisterous main room of The Last Drop, how when a certain song played he would drop everything just to twirl you around behind the bar. Ekko described the brightness of his once clouded eyes and the genuine smile that was always present on his face. Your love was so palpable wherever the two of you went.

Powder confessed once, he told you, while looking over countless notes and equations late at night, that if she were to ever get married, she would want exactly what you and Silco had.

Ekko has you clinging onto each sentence trying to savor each and every word as if you were on your deathbed. You try to picture him in your mind, the greying tousled hair, healthy figure, and tendency to smile. The images are faint against the darkness of your eyelids, blurry from the passage of time.

"He's happy?" You ask quietly.

Ekko nods.

"And am I--Is she happy?" You ask again, stuttering at the thought that this person was not you. You were not the one sharing these intimate moments with your husband; these were strangers, who you could've been.

Again, Ekko nods silently, eyes cast downwards.

You feel your bottom lip start to tremble and tears fight to escape and fall down your cheeks. The lump in your throat grows bigger.

What could've been had haunted you ever since Vander's attack on Silco. It had loomed over you and your husband and suffocated you after his death. To know it was so much sweeter than you ever could have imagined...

Your breathing is uneven when Ekko finally stops talking; other than your labored breath the room was silent. You attempt to collect your thoughts and your emotions but they keep slipping through the cracks between your fingers.

"I shouldn't have told you..." Ekko mutters, apologetically. Eyes swimming with pity, he lays a comforting paint-stained hand on your shoulder. Behind him, Jinx stares blankly down at her boots.

"No it's ok, kid." You sigh, willing away the waves of tears threatening to spill over. "It was good to hear."

"Really?" He looks at you, unconvinced.

"It's good to know that me and Silco get a happy life, y'know?" Your attempt at a small smile partially works, but Ekko can still see the distraught written so clearly all over your face. "One where we can smile and laugh and live. If it couldn't be here, I'm happy it was at least in another lifetime."

Ekko helps you stand, still concerned for you.

With an uneven sigh you turn away from Ekko and Jinx who watch you intently, projects forgotten on the floor or scattered across a small table.

"I need some air." You tell them, ambling slowly to the exit, hoping for the cool polluted air to swallow you whole.

•

[voxslays]

Rut Season Alastor x Reader

Smut. Pure Smut.

When November rolled around, Alastor's antlers became itchy and the velvet rubbed off as he desperately tried to stave off the breeding season. Now the Radio Demon, Hell's strongest Overlord, was locked up in his room, desperately humping against the bed, imagining a loving partner he could mate with. The desire to breed a beautiful female was ever so present. He let out sharp cries every time he grinned against the mattress, trying desperately to hold himself back. "H-Haah~! Haah~! Fuck, fuck, fuck~!" From within his room, with rut warnings posted all over his door, you could hear him desperately trying to cum, but to no avail. He couldn't cum without a mate right now. Tears of sexual frustration welled in his eyes as his humping became more desperate. 

“Hey Alastor?” You say as you walk into the room, unaware. 

Alastor was so engrossed in his rut that he didn't hear the door open. He continued to hump against the bed, his tail lashing back and forth behind him. The smell of his pheromones filled the room, a heavy, musky scent that was hard to ignore. 

As soon as you start to close the door, Alastor freezes mid-hump. His tail whipping around to face you. His eyes are wild, dilated with lust. "What are you doing here?" he growls, his voice barely recognizable. Get out!" *He points to the door, his hand shaking with the effort to control himself. You look away. “Charlie told me to tell you that dinner is being served!” You say, embarrassed.

Alastor's stomach grumbled loudly at the mention of food, but his body's urgent need for release was far stronger. "I-I can't... I-I'm in rut." He let out a sharp cry, his body convulsing as he desperately tried to find release. “Oh- Uhm-” You pause. “That makes sense I guess..” Alastor's tail presses tightly to his waist, squeezing him against the bed as he continues to hump, his cries growing louder and more desperate. "F-Fuck... I need to... I need to breed..." His eyes roll back in his head, and he begins to thrash wildly.

You just stand there awkwardly before deciding to leave. “I'm just gonna go-”

“M-Mate with me!" He let out a primal roar, his antlers crashing against the headboard. His eyes, wild with desire, locked onto you. "Anything... please... just..." He paused. His arms wrap around your waist, pulling you towards the bed. His strength is overpowering, and you find yourself being dragged towards him. “Alastor just wait a moment-!”

He's beyond reasoning now, his mind clouded by the intense need to breed. His tail tightens around you, pulling you down onto the bed with him. He growls, his voice low and menacing. "Can't... wait... I… need... you… now…” He pants. 

His antlers catch the light as he leans down, his hot breath fanning across your face. "Please... let me mate with you..." His arms wrap around your legs, spreading them wide as he grinds his hips against yours, his erection pressing against you. “I'll help you.” You say. His eyes widen, then roll back in his head as he lets out a roar of triumph. He starts to paw at her clothes, growling possessively. “Mine, you're mine... I'll breed you so hard…” His arms unwrap from your legs and he reaches down to unbuckle his pants, freeing his engorged member. With a loud growl, he enters you, his hips moving violently as he begins to breed. The sound of your bodies slapping together fills the room, and his antlers catch in your hair as he leans down to bite your neck, marking you as his. "FUCK~..."

He continues to move, his hips thrusting with a wild, animalistic rhythm. He can't help but let out loud, growling grunts with each thrust. “Fuck~... So tight… Ah! Say my name!” He leans down once again, his fangs grazing her earlobe. “Alastor!” You cry. He grins, his eyes fluttering shut as she speaks his name. He grinds his hips into hers, burying himself deep. “Good girl…” He praises, his voice thick and heavy. He leans down, claiming her mouth in a deep, passionate kiss, his tongue dominating her own.

His movements become even more frenzied as he nears his peak. His tail wraps tightly around your waist, holding you in place as he breeds you hard and fast. He soon lets go. "FUCK..." He collapses on top of you, his body still trembling with the aftershocks of his orgasm. His tail unwraps from your waist and reaches down to touch your stomach, as if checking to make sure his seed has taken hold. "Mmm... I hope you're fertile..."

“W-what!?” You ask, taken aback. He nuzzles your neck, his voice contented. "I hope you're fertile... I want you to have my fawn... or several. His arms wrap possessively around you, and he lets out a purring sound. “​​A-Alastor-!” You say, extremely flustered. He silences you with a kiss, his tail tightening around you. "Shh... no regrets... You're mine now... my mate... His tail begins to slowly rub against you, its movements soothing yet possessive. "And you'll bear my young.” 

His tail continues to rub against you, its movements becoming more insistent. He breaks the kiss and nuzzles your neck, his voice low. "I can feel my seed inside you... It would be such a shame if it was all for nothing..." He stands up, his arms still wrapped around your waist. He carries you to the bathroom, setting you down on the counter. He turns on the shower and steps inside, pulling you in with him. "We'll give it a little push, just in case."

He turns you to face the shower wall and pushes your legs apart, his tail spreading them further. He reaches under you and rubs your belly gently, his other hand holding your hips in place. "Hold this position..." He begins to rub your belly in slow, rhythmic motions, his tail keeping your legs spread wide. The warm water cascades down on you both, and his voice rumbles in his chest as he purrs contentedly, his arms tightening possessively around you. "There... that should do it..." He says.

He turns off the shower and helps you out, drying you off with a large, fluffy towel. He carries you back to the bed and settles in beside you, his arm around your waist. "Get some rest, my dear..” He says. 

Masterlist

[shotmrmiller]

Submitting to his dominance— part III

Pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x F!Reader

TW: dubious-con???, light mentions of violence, tied up for a moment, biting, thigh riding, fingering, edging, unprotected p in v, creampie, this is just vulgar idk what to say.

WC: 3k

A/N: this is it. i didn't plan on using the small drabble of jealousy for this but it worked better for me in the end. this is totally self-indulgent gg yall

You’re on a call with a friend, excitedly discussing your upcoming date with Gaz. Telling her how the both of you are still getting to know each other, just dipping your toes in the water— but the chemistry you both felt was natural, and your friend was screaming on the other end of the line, excited for you.

Approaching your front door, you’re giggling at something they said when you turn your doorknob and push. It opens.  Unlocked. You never leave your flat unlocked. After a moment, you let your friend know you’ll call her later and pivot, dialing the police. Just as you’re about to leave, a recognizable voice comes from the other side of the door.

“Get inside, pet.” 

Ghost. 

Resolutely shaking your head, you firmly say, “No. I blocked you for a reason. Stay here as long as you like, I’m going to Johnny’s.”

In a split second, you find yourself yanked back by a forceful hand clutching onto your hair, causing a jolt of pain as a few strands give way. The grip on your hair intensifies, and you're forcefully dragged into your apartment, confined within its walls with a slam of the door. 

“Are you fucking—”, Ghost cuts you off with a rough palm over your mouth. Anger surges through your veins, nostrils flaring,  and you lift your arm to strike him when he uses the hand covering your mouth to slam your head against the wall— not too hard but with just enough strength to remind you of the position you’re in. Who you’re in here with.

“Hands to yourself, girl. You’d be pickin’ a fight you couldn’t even dream of winnin��.”

Maybe he had a suspicion that you’d test him again because he swiftly rotated you and fastened your wrists with zip ties behind you— before turning you around once again to face him.

How fucking dare he. Oh, if looks could kill. 

You give him the most hateful scowl you can muster, and he looks at you for just a second, almost mockingly. He lifts the mask to uncover his mouth and then tries to press his lips to your neck, but that’s not about to happen. You move your head and shoulder to prevent him from getting anywhere near,  when he moves his hand to fist your hair and yanks. You don’t know what made your eyes tear up. If it’s the stinging ache of your scalp or the twinge in your neck from how hard he pulled. It was silly of you to think he wouldn’t just take what he wants— he’s done it so far.

Ghost has the nerve to chuckle as if he didn’t almost break your neck.

“Don’t be dramatic, pet. If I wanted y’dead, you wouldn’t have even seen me coming.” 

Not realizing you spoke aloud, you’re about to purposefully speak your mind when his lips latch onto the delicate skin of your neck, sucking hard, to the point of pain. And he does it again, on the other side. The sting of his hickeys causes you to whimper, and you assume he likes the noise that involuntarily slips out of you because he grinds his clothed erection against your core while sucking a mark on the fluttering vein in your neck. 

Ghost pulls back, fist still in your hair, and rubs his thumb across the throbbing bruises as if admiring his work. “Hey,” and moves his shirt to reveal his neck— showing you a half dozen blotchy marks that his other conquests put there, and with mirth says, “We match.” 

You start thrashing at that, as best you can while being restrained, and the intense fury of why you even blocked him in the first place comes back to the forefront of your mind. 

“Get the fuck off of me!” you scream. You raise your leg to kick him when he readily grabs it, effortlessly lifting you off the floor. He lets your one leg hang over the arm he has sturdily planted on the wall before grabbing the other to do the same— and pins you flat with his hips, bulge pressed firmly against your cunt. Your arms ache with pain as they are ruthlessly pinned behind you against the wall, pulling a hiss of agony from you.

“Now, now,” he taunts, “There’s no need to get pissy over me sleeping with someone else. Y’asked for a fuck, not a boyfriend, lovie.” 

“Yeah,” you grit out, “You’ve made that clear enough, with your little flings Johnny told me about.” 

“Aw, and tha’s got your knickers in a twist, does it?” he grinds his hips, “Would you believe me if I said tha’ you’re the prettiest?”

You snort. “Piss off— and actually piss the fuck off. You can go get your dick wet with someone else.” 

“Why would I wanna do that when I got y’here spread open so willingly f’me?” and grinds his hips again. 

You were about to retort about the ‘willingly’ being questionable when he latches onto your skin again but this time, he sinks his teeth into the meat of your shoulder. Your nails dig into your palms, eyes welling with tears at the sharp pain of the bite. 

“Ah— stop, please stop” and it feels like he bites down even harder before finally relenting. His teeth come off your skin leaving behind a dark, angry purple imprint. 

“You sound so pretty when you beg, pet.”

Ghost looks up from the bite to your eyes and notices them glassy with unshed tears— licking off the ones that did spill. He trails soft stubbly kisses from your jawline to the corner of your mouth almost to coax it open. You wish you were a stronger person to resist his allure, but his mystique pulled you into his orbit. His touch ignited the spark in you to a flame, and you cave.

His mouth caresses yours open, your body melting against his. You let out little, breathy moans, and when he sloppily licked into your mouth, you caught his tongue and sucked— pulling the raunchiest, cunt-clenching sound you’ve ever had the pleasure of hearing. You let go of his tongue with a pop.

He moves his hands off the wall to dig into your arse and walks to your couch, putting your back to the cushions as he pulls off your pants. With a firm grip on your hips, he pulls you towards him, making you straddle his muscular thigh while his hands wrap around your waist, reaching for your bound wrists.

“I’ma take this off. I wouldn’t try hittin’ me again.” You feel a snap, the tingle of your blood rushing through the mark left by the zip tie, and shrug— in an attempt to ease some of the aches in your shoulders from being forcefully positioned for so long.

You side-eye the military pocket knife he used to cut the ties, wondering when he took it out— where he even hid it. Ghost leans forward to shrug off his leather jacket, pulls off his shirt while keeping his mask over his mouth, and tosses them to the other side of the sofa. You knew he was fit but seeing just how much made you a tad insecure. The separation of the muscle from the round of his shoulders to the bulge of his bicep, with the vein running along the bicep was mouthwatering. Strong vascular forearms, only one of them with a half sleeve. You can see the muscle striation of his full-looking pecs, his abs clear cut, obliques you could count with your fingers. Ridiculously fit, unlike yourself. Soft tummy, thick meaty thighs, and fleshy hips. He brings you out of your musing with a hard slap to your arse.

“Out of your head and back here w’me, eh?” he says while soothing the sting with his calloused hand. “I can feel how warm your cunt is through my jeans. Go on,” and lifts his hand to rub a thumb over your mound, “ride my thigh.”

The feel of your clit against the rough fabric of his jeans and his thumb rubbing firm circles on it has your pussy growing wet, leaving a damp spot behind on him. One hand grips you to push you through the motions, and you continue to roll your hips— chasing the friction you need. 

The circles he’s drawing turn slippery as the tension of your impending orgasm intensifies. Your legs start to shake as you stroke yourself on the length of his thigh and the steady roll of your clit under his thumb is about to make you break, your walls fluttering when Ghost pulls away— abruptly leaving you at the ledge, and it stings. 

“Y’didn’t think I was gonna just let you come with how bratty you’ve been?” and you let out an angry whine. “Open your mouth,” he orders.

Your tongue unsticks from the roof of your mouth as you do, and he shoves two of his long fingers into it, and curls them over your tongue— and you close your throat to prevent your gag reflex.

“Atta girl, love,” the smirk he gives is so irrationally smug, that you want to bite him. He puts both of his thighs in between your legs to spread you, letting him get a good look at your swollen, dripping cunt.

He pulls his fingers out glossy with your spit to rub them through your folds, then presses one, and then the other. He pushes to half the length of his fingers and curls, pushing directly on the sensitive patch of nerves. Ghost repeatedly presses against it, and the noises you and your cunt start to make are lewd, sloppy. 

Your pleasure starts to rise again, back to where he left you off with every precise drag of his fingers over your patch of nerves, your body feels like it’s radiating heat, your vision starting to go white when again, he leaves you hanging. Right at the fucking edge and you dry sob from how pleasurably painful it is. 

Ghost grabs your neck with a firm, wet grip and pulls your face to his, lips hovering over yours, breath mingling. 

“With me in you or none at all, pet,” and slaps your cheek, leaving behind a sticky residue. 

Quickly divesting himself of his jeans, he picks you up and takes you to the bedroom, where he watches you bounce on your mattress. He’s about to crawl over to you when you put your foot flat against his chest. 

“I’m not fucking you without a condom when you still have the evidence of your promiscuity on you.” 

He grabs that ankle and wraps it around him, lifting its twin to do the same, then places himself between your thighs— resting some of his body weight on you. 

“I never sleep with anyone without protection. You’d be the first in many years,” and you scoff at him. He grabs your jaw, cheeks squishing under his fingers, demanding eye contact. 

“I’m many things but a liar isn’t one of ‘em. You’ve done so well f’me, been so obedient. You’re the only one I want to feel without any barriers. ” 

This reminds you of how much of a bastard he is. Taking wheat and spinning it into gold, just to get what he wants. 

“And how many times has that line worked for you?” whimpering at the feel of his heavy cock rubbing against your wet cunt. 

“You’re the only one I wanna see my cum drip out of, pet. I swear it,” and he starts to push into you. Even being as drenched as you are, your cunt still struggles to take him. He gives one thrust and it reaches halfway before it stops— almost like it’s stuck. Ghost pulls out, cock slippery and creamy with your juices then pushes in again. It’s like a rock breaking the surface tension of still water— he sinks to the hilt.

It burns. It’s an ache and his length feels too large, too much, but hearing this typically silent behemoth of a man mumbling into your ear has you groaning at his depth. 

“Fuck, baby, fuckin’ hell sweetheart—”, the salacious groan in your ear makes you clench your gummy walls around his invasion. He moves slowly, giving a series of unhurried, languid thrusts. 

“I’m gonna make sure this tight cunt fits me and no one else,” and that has you thinking if he said that because of your upcoming date, but then with a soft slap to your cheek, he shifts— bringing himself to his knees. Ghost grabs the back of yours and pushes them to your ears. You’re bent in half, can barely breathe, and then he gives you a knowing smirk— with just one corner of his mouth lifted as the only warning before he pounds into you. 

Viciously.

Unsparingly.

Every thrust of his has the tip of his head firmly pressing into your cervix with an obscene squelch. The deep pinch you feel against your womb brings tears to your eyes. 

He’s merciless with how hard he fucks you, and you can’t do anything other than take it, thoroughly pinned under his body weight. Ghost then lets go of one leg to cover your mouth with his hand before angling his hips upwards— just a tad and the angle is so sharp he has you screaming. He must’ve known exactly what was gonna happen because he’s completely unfazed by how loud you’re being, just presses down on your mouth even harder.

“Keep taking it, pet, I know you can,” he growls out, but it feels like he’s actually rearranging your guts, so deep inside you can feel him in your throat. His rhythm is unrelenting, and the coil that Ghost has kept tightly wound all this time threatens to snap, and you’re sure it’s going to break you.

He hisses as he feels your cunt quivering around his cock, and he definitely knows what’s about to happen because he then slows his hips and cuts through your pleasure with his selfish demand.

“You tell Gaz that this weekend is cancelled and I’ll fuck you against that wall and let you come,” and you’re babbling out your surrender, jerky nods of your head. You’re okay with losing this battle because you’re winning this war unequivocally. 

Ghost pulls out aggressively, pulls you to the edge of the bed to position your ankles at his shoulder, and lifts— walking to the wall, pinning you. He slaps your arse before sliding back in again. 

“M’good girl has earned her reward, hasn’t she?” and with that, he lets spit dribble from his mouth to land on your clit. 

“Lemme see you touch yourself,” and resumes his thrusts, this time pushing directly into your sweet spot, again and again. You rub circles in rhythm with his thrusting, your body starting to seize. 

“Fuck, tha’s it, love, fuck me,” and he moans when the nails of your unoccupied hand dig into his shoulder. “Jesus, yeah, scratch me. Leave a mark— I wanna see you on me tomorrow,” and he starts to piston into you at a punishing pace, and he in combination with your fingers has you careening into one of the most, if not the most, overwhelming orgasm of your life. 

You tense, and with no control, actually scream out your peak. Wave after wave of blindingly brutal pleasure, nothing but a ringing in your ears and your limbs that violently tremble— relieving the ache that has been in between your thighs for weeks, from Ghost’s ruthless edging. 

The choking vice your cunt has on his cock sends him over, groaning out his climax. He’s grinding so deep in you that it just hurts, then thrusts himself into oversensitivity. 

He backpedals, taking you with him in his arms, and falls back onto your bed with a grunt. You’re rubbing the marks your nails left on his shoulders— just an imprint. Good. Then, you shift yourself upwards, straddling his ribcage to touch the lovebites. 

“You didn’t really think I’d leave a trophy for you to take home, did you?” and his dark eyes unblinkingly stare at you. Gazing right back, you say, “I won’t be a part of your collection.” But you’re not sure if you aren’t already, seeing as how it’s his cum dripping out of you and landing on his stomach. 

“But an agreement is an agreement,” and get up to grab your phone. Sending Gaz a quick text, you then turn the screen towards Ghost. 

Can’t see you this weekend, Gaz. Sorry:(

Oh, the belly laugh Ghost lets out at the response Gaz sent makes your face flush.

We talked about this, doll. Our date is next weekend. 

“Now I,” you get up, leaving Ghost lying on your bed with his spend drying on his belly, “am gonna go shower, and you can let yourself out. I asked for a fuck, not a boyfriend.”

As you saunter to your bathroom, you turn your head to end it with, “Seeing as how I won’t be needing you anymore, delete my number.” 

—

By the time you step out of your bathroom squeaky clean, your apartment is as if you didn’t get fucked within an inch of your life. Everything looked in order, bed comforter tucked with hospital corners— empty. Except your phone wasn’t where you left it. You walk over to pick it up and on the screen is a text from Ghost’s number. He unblocked himself and changed the name of his contact to Simon.

If you wanted exclusivity, all you had to do was ask, love. Tell Gaz to fuck off for good, I’ll see you soon.

You quickly run to your bathroom and slam the door closed. Squealing, you dial Gaz’s number. 

“Hello, doll,” his voice is low, as if he was asleep.

“It worked! We did it! We—” and you cut yourself off, “Wait, did I wake you?”

He chuckles and you can hear another deep male voice in the background. 

“OH! Oh. You weren’t sleeping! OK! Sorry! So sorry! I’m hanging up!” and press the end call button. 

To beat the player, you must first learn how to play the game.

Taglist: @comeonatmebruh @channelsoph @imasimpl0l @hellshire-harlot @mesyakee @leeeenistop @kerst666 @no-oneelsebutnsu @thychuvaluswife

[thatonegreekgodwrites]

“ECHOES OF ELYSIUM”

Odysseus x Fem!Reader

warnings. sexual assault, slavery, a greek retelling, eventual smut, war/gore, this won’t have a happy ending

pairing. odysseus x fem! reader (inspired by epic:the musical)

in the heart of troy, amidst the towering walls and architecture, the city bustled with the vibrant energy of its people. the market squares were filled with the sounds of merchants haggling and children playing, unaware of the shadow of war creeping ever closer. within the palace, the air was different—heavier with the scent of incense and the hum of anticipation.

you, a young slave girl with kind eyes and calloused hands, moved silently through the halls. your life was one of routine and quiet obedience, your existence almost invisible among the grandeur of the palace. today, however, was a day of celebration, and even you could not escape the excitement that seemed to permeate the very stones of troy.

the reason for the festivities was the birth of the heir, the firstborn son of prince hector and his beloved wife, andromache. the birth of the child promised new hope and joy, a symbol of strength and continuity. their legacy now secured if the gods favored them so. the celebration was to be grand, with nobles and warriors alike gathering to honor the new prince and his family.

you had been tasked with pouring wine for the guests. it was a simple task, yet it required precision and grace—qualities that had been drilled into you from a young age. you carried a large jug, the cool red liquid sloshing gently inside, as you made your way to the grand hall.

as you entered the hall, you were struck by the sight before you. the room was adorned with rich tapestries and garlands of flowers. the tables were laden with food and drink, and the air was filled with the murmur of conversation and the occasional burst of laughter. at the center of it all was prince hector, his tall frame and noble bearing making him easily recognizable. beside him stood andromache, cradling their newborn son, both of them beaming with pride and joy.

you approached the head table with a steady gait, careful not to draw too much attention to yourself. you dipped your head respectfully, eyes fixed on the ground. you could feel the weight of the guests' gazes on you, but you remained focused, constantly reminding yourself to not make a mistake in your mind as you were known to be a bit clumsy.

"wine, my lord?" you asked softly, voice barely above a whisper.

hector turned to you, his expression warm and kind. "yes, thank you," he said, gesturing to the goblet before him.

you carefully poured the wine, the liquid catching the light and sparkling as it filled the goblet. moving down the table, you repeated the process for andromache and the other guests. as you worked, you couldn't help but steal glances at the infant in andromache's arms. the baby boy, unaware of the significance of his birth, slept peacefully, his tiny chest rising and falling with each breath.

the celebration continued, the sounds of music and laughter filling the hall. you retreated to the edges of the room, task completed only for the moment. you watched the scene unfold, a mixture of longing and contentment in your heart. despite your status, you found joy in the happiness of others, even if it was a distant joy.

the night wore on and you remained vigilant, ready to attend to any needs that might arise. you and everyone else were unaware of the storm brewing beyond the walls of troy, the consequences of paris' actions casting a long shadow over the kingdom that would consume them in darkness in due time. for now, in this moment of peace, the future seemed bright and full of promise.

but you knew, as did everyone in troy, that peace was a fragile thing, easily shattered by the whims of fate. and as you stood in the grand hall, the echoes of the past and the whispers of the future intertwined, creating a tapestry of uncertainty that would shape the destiny of troy and all who lived within its walls.

lingering on the edges of the grand hall, your eyes scanning the room for any sign that you might be needed. the celebration for the birth of hector's son was still going even as night fell, the hall being brought alive with music and laughter.

suddenly, the room seemed to tilt as a hand gripped your shoulder, pulling you roughly into the light.

you turned to see hector's younger brother, prince deiphobus, his face flushed with wine and his eyes glazed with a drunken haze. he was known for his roguish charm, but tonight, it was more than evident that he had indulged too much.

"well, well, what do we have here?" he slurred, his hand wandering from your shoulder down your arm, lingering in a way that made your skin crawl. "a pretty little dove in the midst of all these hawks."

you stiffened, your pulse quickening as you bit your tongue, swallowing the surge of disgust that rose within you. you were a servant—a slave, and he was a prince. to resist would mean severe punishment, which meant you had no choice but to endure.

"my lord, can i get you some water?" you offered, hoping to distract him, your voice steady despite the turmoil within.

deiphobus laughed, a sound that was more menacing than mirthful. "water? no, i have something else in mind." his hand moved to your waist, drawing you closer as his breath was hot and reeking of alcohol against your ear. "tell me, does a slave like you know how to have fun?"

you forced a smile, the muscles in your face straining with the effort. "i am here to serve, my lord, in whatever way pleases you."

he grinned, his hand sliding lower. "good girl," he murmured, fingers tracing the curve of your hip. "i knew you would understand."

every fiber of your being screamed to pull away, but you remained still, eyes fixed on the ground. you could feel the weight of the guests' gazes on you, some watching with curiosity, others with indifference—after all, your plight meant nothing to them.

"why don't we find a quieter place, hmm?" deiphobus suggested, his tone laced with a dangerous edge.

"deiphobus," helenus called out from next to them, raising his goblet to his lips as he quirked a brow, voice calm but commanding. "leave her be."

deiphobus turned, a drunken sneer on his face. "ah, helenus. always the serious one. why don't you go back to your scrolls and leave the fun to me?"

helenus' eyes narrowed. "surely you can go one night without tainting another servant. find entertainment elsewhere and by the gods, remember that you're a prince, have some decorum."

deiphobus scoffed, but the firmness in helenus's voice gave him pause. he let go of you with a rough shove, making you stumble back. "fine, fine," he muttered, turning away with a dismissive wave. "always spoiling the fun."

helenus watched him go, his expression unchanging until deiphobus disappeared into the crowd. then, he turned to you, his gaze softening ever so slightly. "next time you ought to remember i won't be able to stop him, i suggest you find a way to keep your hands busy."

you nodded with a tug inside your chest. "yes, my lord, thank you."

with that, he looked away, drowning the conversation of the people around him as his own servants served him grapes. you took a deep breath, your hands trembling slightly as you took helenus' advice, moving around the large room to keep yourself occupied and out of the sight of deiphobus.

you felt the fragility of peace hanging in the air, a feeling of knowing that the celebration of new life was shadowed by the impending storm. yet, within the confines of your role, you found a flicker of strength, a resolve to endure whatever fate the gods had in store for you.

author’s note. comment your thoughts, if this does well I’ll continue it over on here and might put more effort into the account. you can find this story also on my wattpad account. thanks for reading!

[elizaleclerc]

begin again 🤍

"you throw your head back laughing like a little kid"

cowboy charles? yeah, cowboy charles.

summary: country singer! reader performs at the austin gp and meets a special someone (charles cough cough)

songs: all the ones mentioned! very fearless, red, and speak now coded but with a sabrina face claim (idk this is just inside my head at the moment)

word count: 2k+

author's notes: little bit of writing little bit of smau i just hadd to write this idea ok enjoy bye

The hired makeup artist carefully applied the finishing touches to your already flawless makeup, making sure every contour and highlight was perfect before you took the stage in Austin, Texas. The bright lights of the venue glinted off your shimmery eyeshadow and glossy lips, adding an extra sparkle to your already sparkling presence. It was the celebration party of the Austin Grand Prix, and thousands of people had gathered outside the gates, eagerly awaiting your performance.

In the VIP area, some of the most famous drivers in the world were among the crowd, lending an air of excitement to the event. As an up-and-coming country artist, it was both nerve-wracking and thrilling to be chosen to perform at such a prestigious afterparty. You took a deep breath and checked your mic pack one last time, trying to calm your racing thoughts.

You had loosely followed Formula One throughout the years, but actually being here for a Grand Prix was an insane feeling, nonetheless being the performer for the afterparty. You loosely assumed that most of the drivers would be mingling amongst themselves and around the tented bar in the VIP area, so you tried to not think too hard about their eyes on you.

The familiar sound of your introduction filled the air, followed by the lively instrumentals to your opening song. As you stepped onto the stage, a wave of enthusiastic cheers and applause greeted you. It was both exhilarating and nerve-wracking to be performing in front of such a large crowd. With each note that left your lips, your voice rang out smooth as silk, carrying all the emotions and energy of your songs. The audience seemed to be thoroughly enjoying themselves, singing and dancing along to every beat. As you finished your first song, “Mr. Perfectly Fine”, you could feel their excitement growing even more as you moved into your newest single, “We Are Never Ever Getting Back Together”.

The melody of this song was the reason why you were taking the stage in Austin tonight. It had taken on a life of its own and had become your most beloved and recognizable tune to date. As you belted out the lyrics, you could feel the crowd's energy amplify with each note. Caught up in the moment, you finally took a glance at the VIP section directly in front of the stage. To your surprise, instead of disinterested faces, you saw the group of drivers nodding along and some even singing along to every word. This strange occurrence both bolstered your confidence and ignited a wave of nervousness within you. How could it be that these individuals, who were undoubtedly accustomed to hearing chart-topping hits from the biggest names in the music industry, knew every single word to your song?

As you performed on stage, your eyes couldn't help but be drawn to one particular driver in the crowd. His intense gaze had been fixed on you since the beginning of your performance. You recognized him as Charles Leclerc, a skilled driver for Ferrari. With each song on your setlist, you found yourself stealing glances at him, and it seemed like he couldn't take his eyes off you either. Even as you sang "I Knew You Were Trouble," he remained transfixed with a slight smirk on his lips, and when you transitioned into "Fearless," he mumbled along to the lyrics. It was like there was an unspoken connection between the two of you, intensified by the energy and lights of the concert arena.

After finishing your setlist, you finally retreated backstage, feeling the reverberations of the music coursing through your body. The DJ was now setting up for the remainder of the party, but you had a little bit of time to mingle amongst the VIP section before heading back to your hotel for the night. Your heart was still pounding with adrenaline from your performance, and being surrounded by famous drivers only added to the rush. A few of them complimented you on your set and you shared brief conversations with them, feeling a sense of camaraderie in this elite group. Finally, you made your way to the sleek bar counter to quench your thirst with a crisp drink. As you stood there, taking in the glamorous scene around you, a subtle presence appeared next to you, catching your attention.

The deep, rich tones of Charles's accent filled your ears as you turned to face him. His presence felt warm and inviting, drawing you in. A small smile played on your lips as he asked, "Can I buy your drink?”

You couldn't help but chuckle at his boldness, "I guess I'll let you.”

As the thumping beat of the music pulsed through the air, Charles moved a few inches closer to hear you better. His eyes were intense and captivating, causing a slight heat to rise to your cheeks. Trying to hide your blush, you hoped the darkness of the night would conceal it.

"You put on quite a show," he said with a hint of admiration in his voice. Despite your attempt to remain composed, your cheeks grew even warmer at his compliment. But the dim lighting provided some cover for your embarrassment.

You shrugged, “It’s my job I guess.” The bartender handed your drink to you and Charles handed him his card to pay. “You had quite a drive today.” You sipped your drink while maintaining eye contact with him, and a smirk spread on his face. It was only polite for you to compliment the winner of the Grand Prix.

“Well, that’s my job.” He chuckled, “but, thank you.” Silence fell between the two of you for a few moments, but it was comfortable. Almost as if he was an old friend you were catching up with. “So, what got you into music?” He asked casually.

“Um well, my boyfriend told me that I could sing pretty well and I loved writing songs, so I just bought a guitar and put all of the pieces together.” You explained, feeling the slight buzz from your drink.

“Boyfriend?” Charles cocked his head curiously and your face flushed.

“Sorry- he’s not my boyfriend anymore.” You laughed nervously, “Just a slip-up I guess. We broke up about 3 weeks ago.”

“Ah, I see.” Charles nodded, “I guess that’s where your chart topping song comes into play.” You smiled to yourself, why was Charles Leclerc keeping up with your success?

“Yes, that seems to be the natural progression of things. My greatest inspiration is people who have wronged me.” You said nonchalantly. Charles threw his head back in laughter, which caused you both to stir in a fit of laughs.

For the next hour, you and Charles sat at the bar, your words mingling with the clink of glasses and murmur of other patrons. Despite the occasional interruption from curious drivers, your attention remained fully fixed on the man before you. His every gesture, expression, and word was captivating, drawing you in like a moth to a flame. However, as much as you wanted to stay lost in conversation with him, you knew that you needed to head back to your hotel soon. In just two days, you would be performing on a late night talk show - a career milestone that required all of your focus and preparation.

Charles leaned in, his voice earnest yet hesitant as he spoke. "I know we both lead busy lives, but...I would love to keep in touch with you," he said, catching you off guard with his sincerity. Your cheeks flushed at the realization that maybe all those small flirts from Charles throughout the night weren't just in your head. The possibility of something more between you and him sent a flutter through your heart.

“Yeah, I would love that.” You nodded and handed him your phone so he could put his number in.

“And who knows, maybe one day I’ll get a song about me. But for good reasons obviously.” He joked which made you giggle like a child.

“Hmm, we’ll see. Goodnight, Charles.” You bid him goodbye and he watched as you turned to head to the backstage area where a car would drive you to your hotel. You smiled like a little kid the whole drive back, replaying every word and every little movement.

yourname austin you gave me so much love last night <3 im so grateful for this life!! and forza ferrari (am i saying that right??)

liked by yourbff, charlesleclerc, scuderiaferrari, and others

-user0926 omg i knew y/n would be a ferrari fan

-user5043 MY WORLDS ARE COLLIDING

-user4558 liked by charles oh its soooo over 😭

-user3408 charles in the likes i repeat CHARLES IN THE LIKES

charlesleclerc An Austin GP win and an incredible afterparty. Cheers!

liked by landonorris, yourname, f1, and others

-user7224 stop it did he take his own pic of y/n?? are yall seeing what im seeing????

-yourname what a drive charles!!!

user3789 y/n what do you know

user2195 pls pls pls let this be real

-maxverstappen1 could barely celebrate with him bc he was chatting someone up all night.

user5904 MAX???

user3350 MESSYYY OMG WHO??

landonorris you've got them all riled up now

yourname here's a new song ive been messing around with. enjoy <3

(video IG STORY of y/n singing the first verse and chorus of enchanted)

TWITTER:

-user2958 did anyone notice that in y/n ig story she's literally singing a song ab meeting charles in austin or am i going crazy

user5409 i fear we've lost the plot

user3106 no no i see the vision. u MIGHT be onto something

user7074 wait didn't y/n have a bf?? or did they breakup?

user1513 they've been broken up for a couple weeks now, she wrote wanegbt about him!

user9543 wait what is the acronym-

user2218 we are never ever getting back together 😭

yourname what a pleasure it was to perform on late night AHHH pinch me im dreaming

liked by charlesleclerc, thelatenightshow, f1, and others

-user5943 anyone else wondering why the f1 account liked this post?? 😭

user6784 charles is running it dw!

yourname LMFAO 💋

user6784 Y/N?? TELL US WHAT U KNOW PLS

-user9234 shes a star omggg

-user2904 y/n biggest artist of the year im calling it!!

-user5382 y/n might make me start liking country music what

user1843 as if you could even call her music country music be fr

PEOPLE MAGAZINE: Y/n's Rise to Fame and the Gray Area of Country Music

For the past two months the internet has fallen for country music's latest star, Y/N. While it may appear all sunshine and roses for the young blooming star, every rose has its thorns. After making an appearance at the Formula One Grand Prix in Austin, Texas, her fanbase has skyrocketed. She's even appeared on Late Night, and is rumored to release her first album soon.

But many country music fans criticize Y/N's style of music, stating that it's actually not country music at all. They have distasted the way she dresses, noting that the only thing that makes her country is her hometown and the alleged "fake accent" that she sings with.

yourname back to my roots in nashville <3 missing everyone so much but thank you for the love recently. while i keep working on new music, here's a single to hold you over. nothing new is out now!!

liked by charlesleclerc, yourbff, sonymusic, and others

-user2943 the hate she gets is so undeserved, what a beautiful song <3

-user1158 WE LOVE U!!!

-user4857 new artists should not have to recieve this much hate no matter WHAT genre. we love u :,)

-charlesleclerc beautiful mon amour 🤍

user6729 WOAH UM

user3875 Y/N CHARLES SOFT LAUNCH PAUSE-

user8472 the lesbians 4 y/n lost something today 💔

*four months later*

yourname happy to announce my first album, begin again, will be yours so soon!! what a whirlwind these past few months have been but i wouldn't have it any other way 🤍 here's to new beginnings

liked by charlesleclerc, landonorris, yourbff , and others

-user5728 OMG I NEED THIS ALBUM NOW

-user9674 i just know these are the best 14 songs ever

-charlesleclerc safe to say im really pumped

yourname you should be 6 of the songs are about you

user5736 WHAAATFHGJG

user2756 SIX?? like one two three four five SIX???

charlesleclerc WORLD CHAMPION. Ever since I joined F1 I dreamed of having a driver's championship trophy, and now I've got it. Thank you to everyone on this team and everyone's who has supported my career. Til next season, forza Ferrari sempre. ❤️

liked by yourname, f1, scuderiaferrari, and others

-yourname i couldn't be prouder ❤️ love u

-yourname ok now come home i miss u

-user4756 YASSS CHARLES!!!

-user2636 y/n and charles pretty much confirmed, charles wdc and y/n's album. guys we are literally WINNING rn.

-user2734 "FORZA FERRARI" we all said in unison.

TWITTER:

yourname SURPRISE!! tickets for the begin again one night only show are up for grabs now!!!! join me for one night in nashville as i perform my newest album :,) see u soon 💋

yourname thank you to everyone who came out for the begin again one night only show <3 performing the whole album start to finish was so perfect and i hope everyone's been enjoying the music. until next time 🤍

liked by charlesleclerc, maxverstappen1, yourbff, and others

-user2736 guys i was there and the amount of times she mentioned her "partner" was so 😭 like we didn't all know she was talking ab charles i love them

-charlesleclerc my girl's a star ❤️

-user5793 so i can confirm so many songs are about charles its so perfect. enchanted made me cry

-user2741 i need to know what charles's favorite song is

charlesleclerc it's timeless

user2741 I KNEW IT

-user8573 charles can you fight ?!?!?!?

yourname i watched it begin again <3

liked by charlesleclerc, landonorris, yourbff, and others

-user3782 cowboy charles. the universe is aligned

-user1773 IM SOBBING I LOVE THEM 😭

-user8354 may a love like this find me (pls im begging actually)

-user1938 and the crowd is?...oh the crowd is sobbing

-charlesleclerc the most perfect girl ever

yourname i love u 💋

user2845 i love both of you

*four years later*

Charles is a three time world champion and you've toured around the world twice with two released albums. You are one of the most popular artists in the world, and Charles has been by your side the whole time. You've accompanied him to his races when you can, and have even befriended some of the other drivers. This life couldn't be more perfect.

charlesleclerc and yourname no one i would rather share the rest of my life with. here's to forever mon amour 🤍💍

liked by landonorris, yourbff, f1, and others

-landonorris I've watched this love story bloom from the very beginning. Congrats you two!

yourname love u lan <3

-maxverstappen Congratulations! I can't think of two people more fit for each other ❤️

charlesleclerc ❤️❤️

-user2754 they got ENGAGED and MARRIED and didnt tell us...iconic.

-user6843 COUPLE OF THE CENTURYYY

-user0854 they are so endgame like truly no one can compete

~~~~~~

author's note pt.2 :

TYSM for reading! i did nawtttt intend for this to end up this long and literally hit the max number of images but...anywhooo

let me know if you want to see more things like this from me! my inbox is open <3

xoxo , eliza 🤍

[actiniumwrites]

BLURRED LINES

synopsis: the defining moment that changed the course of your relationship with them from being enemies to that of lovers

characters: kaeya, yelan, scaramouche, ayato, cyno, dottore, and alhaitham x gn!reader (separately)

warnings: enemies to lovers, angst, fluff, injuries, blood, fighting, harassment (not from any of them), not proofread

notes: idk man i just wanted to write some enemies to lovers scenarios. each of these get longer as they go, so uh, sorry if you wanted some of the first ones to be longer cause i don’t really know what happened 😭 enjoy <3

Kaeya watched how you laughed so loudly, so confidently at him as you fought somewhere behind him. It was as loud and recognizable as usual. He felt his heart beat faster — flushed, annoyed, and fed up with your constant need to one up him, laugh at him for no reason, and point out each and every small mistake he makes. As the Cavalry Captain racked his brain for a comeback, anything to take you off your high horse, his ears began to hurt as your laughter faded into that of dreadful screams. Blue eyes caught yours in an instant, turned so fast that his body almost gave him whiplash. No. He couldn’t lose you. Not like this. Not when he hadn’t realized his hatred for you was nothing more than a guise for his buried love.

Yelan’s faint laughs scared the people on the harbor. Such an intimidating women, softly — yet arrogantly — laughing to herself was certainly an odd sight to see. She had bested you once again, and you hadn’t even known it yet. And Archons she couldn’t wait to see the look on your face when you realized it. Her laughter quickly subsided at the faint sounds of desperation and begging, coming from somewhere within a nearby alleyway. Nearly walking past it out of the need to be in other places, Yelan stopped in her trail when the whimpering cries turned into your voice. Fury festered throughout her body in an instant. Nobody was allowed to mess with you, not unless it was her. Maybe she hadn’t realized it yet, but she would do anything to protect you — even if it meant giving her life.

When Scaramouche fell limp out of the robot, falling from great heights as he plummeted to the ground, he held no beliefs he would be caught — no less by the hands of you, his sworn enemy. Yet, there you were, arms wrapped tightly around him as the traveler and Paimon stared at you in shock. Something about the way your heart felt the moment you saw him fall was deeply painful, like weeds growing around your heart. Though, the strong heat from your love was enough to burn those weeds, enough to propel yourself forward without thought and save the man you had unknowingly come to love. And as Nahida watched the scene play out in front of her, a knowing smile crossed her face.

Ayato loved nothing more than to argue and debate with you. It came as a package deal alongside the fact that you were from the Tenryou Commission and he was from the Yashiro commission. Because god you were so smart and always had the perfect comebacks, even though it was infuriating when you would win. What he didn’t like, however, was when he would watch you argue with someone else. Especially when you lost to them. Ironic, right? He hated watching his enemy lose? So when his eyes spotted you around the corner of Ritou, backed up against a wall as a rude man berated you, his eyes filled with fury and his heart was racing. No one was allowed to treat you like that. So he took care of them for you, even though he knew you were fully capable. And as you stormed away from him, he was left with a single question: if you were supposed to be his enemy, then why the hell did he care so much about you?

The moment Cyno saw you fall backwards, he scoffed. Honestly, when were you actually going to beat him while sparring? But then you didn’t get up. Cyno swore he felt his heart fall out of his chest. And oh archons, the moment he saw blood, the weapon fell out of his hand and his feet propelled him forward. His knees scraped against the rugged bricks of the floor as his arms wrapped themselves around your torso and hoisted it against him. But then your eyes opened and the laugh he always thought was so beautiful fell from your lips. Stopping when your eyes met his serious expression, you joked, “What? Don’t tell me you were actually worried about me?” Cyno’s eyes pierced through yours, a serious, yet genuine, expression painted across his face, “Don’t scare me like that, it’s not funny…I thought I lost you for a second.”

Dottore felt annoyed the moment he heard you knock on the door. So he ignored it, knowing only you would be stupid enough to get hurt and go to him at such late hours of the night. You could’ve seen another doctor, but he knew you loved to annoy him more than anything else. But then the knocks came again, weaker and more fragile this time. Sighing, he opened his door, only to find you. Your eyes were kept on the floor, but he could see the tears that pooled in them. Blood adorned most of your body, and your clothes were all tattered and torn. The arm that was holding you up against the door gave out and you collapsed, but not before Dottore caught you in his arms. You were mumbling, shaking, and absolutely terrified as you leaned against him. And yet, for some reason, Dottore couldn’t help but feel a small feeling of warmth spreading in his cold heart at the thought of you coming to him when you were most vulnerable. Though, it wasn’t enough to stop the anger he felt for the person that hurt you.

Alhaitham sighed for what felt like the thousandth time that day as he spotted you in the library late at night. Shouldn’t you have already gone home? Or were you just trying to get ahead him again? Perhaps aiming to steal his position at the Akademiya this time? He never knew with you, but at least the competition kept things a little more entertaining each day. So, he made another sarcastic comment toward you on his way out. He couldn’t see your face from the way you were sitting, but your silence stopped him in his tracks. No rebuttal? No comeback? Not even an annoyed sigh? And then your shoulders started to shake, and small whimpers fell from your lips. Shit. Alhaitham didn’t know what to do in situations like this. But even so, he stopped and walked toward you. Sat down next to you and stayed quiet, only offering a few tissues and some water he had on him — which you hesitantly, but gratefully took. Maybe you were his “enemy” and maybe he didn’t know how to deal with people crying, but for some reason it felt natural with you and he sure as hell wasn’t going to leave you alone.

[salvatwh0re]

Void Challenge Pt.2

Hi, everyone!

Welcome to my long await void state challenge!! WOOO!

Part one and two are just informational, the rest will come soon :)

I'm gonna start with some more basic information to not only simplify the void, but make it make more sense! A lot of people are confused on how the void works and what it is, which is usually the problem and why they complicate it so much.

So, what is the void state?

The void state is a mind awake, body asleep state of pure consciousness and being. You're completely unaware of your 3D/physical surroundings so it is very recognizable. You are pure consciousness in this state and are connected to the purest form of thoughtlessness and limitlessness. You're completely free of negative, limiting thoughts and blockages. You have the ability to manifest anything your heart desires within seconds because of that pure connection to your subconscious.

Now, what is a subconscious?

Your subconscious mind and every form of consciousness, both primary and secondary are held in the pineal gland which is located in the center of the brain.

What is the purpose of a pineal gland, you may ask?

Well, as perviously stated it holds your consciousness, spirit, soul or whatever you may call it. It is the holding place of our absolute consciousness. It controls our sleep cycles by releasing melatonin. It contains our inner monologue and inner thoughts (that little voice inside of your head). The pineal gland, as discovered by scientific researchers, is very and completely activate in our earliest years of life, but as time goes on and we are conditioned, domesticated and borderline brainwashed, we lose our freedom of thought and our true personality/consciousness. The pineal gland starts to calcify and become less and less active as we get older.

But why is this important for the void state?

Our pineal glands may be calcifying and it may seem extreme, but it can be decalcified/unlocked. We can decalcify our pineal gland with a certain energy/wavelength that is acquired through sleep and meditation. It is known as cosmic energy and it is best acquired through meditation. During meditation we are connecting with our inner selves, our true thoughts, our higher consciousness and are also becoming one with the universe (which is technically ourselves but we'll get into that later). That state of relaxation and pure being we are in allows cosmic energy to flow through your body and straight to your pineal gland, slowly decalcifying it. The best way to get cosmic energy flowing through you in meditation is with you spine straight. Not only is the spine the center of your body, it connects straight to your brain making it a perfect place to siphon energy through, which it why it is recommended to sit with your back straight or lay down flat on your back through meditation.

This is exactly the reason why I always always always recommend meditation, I know a lot of you don't like it, but the more you meditate, the more cosmic energy you acquire, the more you pineal gland unlocks!

The pineal gland is the gateway to your manifestations. Your desires/manifestations and thoughts have to get through your pineal gland/ subconscious in order to manifest into your physical reality, which is why affirming and using subliminals works so well for people who actually persist in their beliefs.

So, keep persisting in you affirmations, meditate on you affirmations, MEDITATE EVERY DAY PLEASE I BEG YOU. Even if it's not for the void state, you definitely still need to meditate.

The next void state challenge post will be the steps you should take to reprogram your mind and essentially restart your journey! Guided meditations will be included :)

[rennybu]

AAAAUHG.. so many things come to mind so i will start with... i like to imagine he and Fenris are the same height :') (5'11"). This got a bit long but i'm always happy to talk about this guy!!!!!!!!! @trebuchet151

he's got a big garnet signet ring with the Amell family crest carved in it, and that's about the only recognizable thing that denotes his lineage... he has always liked stamping wax seals on letters with it!!! he's a ring guy generally, he likes mixing and matching stones and metal.

his hands are very scarred and rough from reckless casting, and especially casting fire magic without a staff (in a pinch).

He has a heart tattooed on his ring finger for Fenris :') their wedding was very. Andraste as the witness, on the road, impulsive. Vows for themselves, nothing legally binding. Fenris has a plain gold band on a red cord somewhere on his person at all times.

his testosterone is taken via oral tincture, some kind of oil solution he takes drops of daily. like a mild and highly personalized potion recipe! it's the only reason he sometimes needs a home base or shop to set up in, to prepare a big batch. He stores it in little glass vials he collects from trinket shops. Malcolm found the recipe for him after he came out in his tweens.

Bethany is kind of sainted in his mind, when he's exasperated or stunned he might utter an "oh Bethany" (in the tone of "are you seeing this shit") rather than an "oh Maker"

He struggles a lot with empathy, in that he frequently can logically recognize when he should feel for another person's situation, and yet finds himself unmoved. He will deliberately go out of his way to care for others, sometimes more than is needed, to try to make up for what he perceives as a personal flaw. This is how he ended up like a wrung out mouldy rag, emotionally, by the end of DA2.

His spell class is fucking terrifying, he has a lot of mana and not much hp, but is really reckless about his reserves. He combines force magic with fire magic, trapping foes and incinerating them, and sometimes leaving himself winded in the wake of too much magical exertion at once.

he's pretty spry and strong but doesn't have a great constitution. He tires out quickly in fights, hence trying to end them explosively and quickly.

Was briefly stalked by a sloth demon, perhaps around Act 2, and passed a very "get off my doorstep" homebrew harrowing as a result. Burnt it out of his shadow and got some spring back in his step, around roughly the same time he recognized his feelings for Fenris, settled into his role as Hawke within Kirkwall, etc. He Killed Dysphoria, Forever!!!

His love for Merrill makes him very "blood magic is okay", he loves her worldview and wisdom about its use, but his upbringing prevents him from extending that grace to himself. He was forced to use blood magic in his duel against the Arishok in order to survive it!!! Angst. Hates himself quite badly for this. Until Merrill is like "why are you special" and he's like ooohh. I get it

We all kno Hawke goes thru hell but I love reflecting on Orson's arc from early family life to Now/post-DA:I, he found closure among his friends and family and was able to fully remove himself from a public leadership role and is doing much better for it. He's a bit of an anarchist i guess, jack of all trades with a pretty rigid set of personal morals that sometimes forces him to act outside the law. He's very grey market, hard to contact, arrive in the nick of time.

He and Fenris do not ever shut up around each other. Two dudes who talk about fuck all, very intelligently. If you see Fenris in the wild, Orson is probably around, too. They love hunting Venatori and only sometimes get in the way of other spy/subterfuge activities.

he smells like BRITTLE sun-baked wood, with a hint of oily herbal medicine.

[rose-petal123]

How have you been designing your isat ocs? Your look really good and like they belong in the isat universe and I'd like to try making my own

HONESTLY. My advice is look at already existing designs within the game and consider design elements. It also helps to draft the designs a bunch because then you can explore what you like.

ALSO!!! I kept in mind WHY isat characters are so fun to draw; They're pretty simple but extremely recognizable. They all have very nice shapes.

Harutaka concept art:

I plan on changing Harutaka's design cuz their outfit bothers me but. ANOTHER THING. I'd keep in mind what craft type they are! And what weapons they use! Does your character travel a lot? Do they need to move around easily? Take this into consideration when designing their clothing.

Paxton concept art:

Another thing is I might take or combine ideas. Ex. I gave Harutaka short hair and gave the long hair to Paxton. Mostly for practicality reasons. Paxton is Paper/Rock type. He's not going to need to move around a whole lot because he's also a spell caster type buddy similar to Odile.

Uhhh. I don't have much thought process behind this besides doodle until something sticks out to you. It's okay to draw like 20 different hairstyles and then combine two of them. It's okay to finish a design and then redesign it later if you're not 100% on it.

Miscellaneous isat oc doodles cuz why not:

Idk if this was helpful or absolute nonsense but ummmm I tried ❤️ good luck I believe in you anon

[swytchoocos]

ੈ✩‧₊˚𝐌𝐞? 𝐒𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐜𝐤?ੈ✩‧₊˚

Pairing: Ran haitani x fem reader

Description: You attend beauty school in Japan you find yourself falling for the charismatic and popular delinquent ran haitani you started to think you were thing but little did you know you were just one of his side bitches.

Ps: sorry reader I made you really naive in this but you get him back at the end x.

Warnings: heavy smut, MDNFI 🔞, angst, agression.

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You were a bright student at the beauty school, always eager to learn and improve your skills. You had reputation for being kind and naive, and your classmates loved your cheerful and helpful nature. You spent most of your days in class, learning all the latest techniques and trends in makeup artistry. As you walked down the hallway, your mind was filled with thoughts of the upcoming beauty competition that you were preparing for, completely unaware of the drama that was about to unfold in your life.

Despite your naive nature, you weren't stupid by any means. You had a strong intuition and a talent for reading people's emotions, but when it came to relationships, you often found yourself making poor choices due to your trusting nature. You were so focused on your studies and career goals that you often missed the signs of potential heartbreaks and betrayals.

You sat in class with your friends, chatting amiably about the latest gossip and news around the school. One of your friends brought up the topic of the delinquents they had seen down the street that morning, mentioning the name Ran Haitani. The mere mention of his name sent a shiver down your spine, and you couldn't help but feel a little curious and intrigued. As your friends continued to talk about Ran Haitani, you couldn't help but interject with a question. "What's he like, really?" you asked, your curiosity getting the better of you. Your friends looked at you a little surprised, as they knew you were usually quite reserved and shy when it came to guys.

One of your friends spoke up, "Oh, he's just a bad boy thats hot, ya know? He's got this charm that draws people in, and he's fearless when it comes to taking risks." Another chimed in, "But he's also got a reputation for being a player. He's got a way of making girls fall for him and then breaking their hearts."

You listened intently to your friends' description of Ran Haitani, feeling a mixture of confusion and intrigue. Part of you couldn't help but feel drawn to his charismatic persona, but another part of you was wary of his reputation for being a player who breaks hearts. You tried to shake off the conflicting emotions you were feeling, telling yourself that it was silly to be so interested in someone you had never even met. But the more your friends talked about him, the more you found yourself wondering what it would be like to be on the receiving end of that charming smile and dangerous gaze..

As the conversation continued, you found it harder to shake off the thoughts and feelings that were stirring within you. You knew deep down that getting involved with someone like Ran Haitani would only lead to trouble, but for some reason you couldn't help but feel a strange sense of excitement at the prospect.

After class ended, you and your friends left school and began walking home. As you walked past a corner, you spotted a group of delinquents hanging out, their intimidating presence instantly catching your attention. Among them was Ran Haitani, his sharp gaze and confident stance instantly recognizable. And next to him was his younger brother, Rindo, who seemed to have a more playful and mischievous demeanor. Your friends tensed up as they saw the delinquents, but you couldn't help but feel a little bit of excitement. Part of you was scared, but the other part was intrigued, and you found yourself watching them intently, trying to catch a glimpse of Ran Haitani's infamous smirk.

Your friends whispered to you to keep walking and not attract any attention to yourself, but you couldn't take your eyes off the two brothers. They were so different, yet at the same time it was clear that they were close. Ran seemed cool and collected, while Rindo had a more carefree and carefree attitude, but both of them had a dangerous aura about them. As you watched them, Ran's gaze suddenly flicked in your direction, and your heart skipped a beat as his eyes locked onto yours for a moment. His eyes held a hint of recognition, as if he knew who you were, and a hint of something else - interest, perhaps? Whatever it was, it sent a shiver down your spine and you found yourself unable to look away.

Your friends tried to tug you away, but you were frozen in place, unable to tear your eyes away from Ran's intense gaze. Finally, Rindo noticed your staring and nudged his brother with a sly smile. Ran's expression remained impassive, but there was a hint of a smirk on his lips as he continued to look in your direction.

You could feel the heat rising to your cheeks as your friends finally managed to pull you away. As you walked away, you glanced back over your shoulder, and saw that both Ran and Rindo were still looking in your direction. You couldn't shake off the feeling that ran noticed you, and you couldn't help but wonder what he was thinking. As you and your friends continued walking, your friends suddenly erupted into whispers and exclamations. They had noticed the way Ran Haitani had been looking at you. "Did you see that? one whispered. "He was totally checking you out!" another squealed. You shook your head at your friends excitement and speculation. "No" you said, trying to dismiss their assumptions. "He wasn't checking me out, he was just looking in my direction. It doesn't mean anything." Your friends tried to argue, trying to convince you that Ran was obviously interested in you, but you didn't want to believe it. You didn't want to get your hopes up or read into things that weren't there.

Your friends continued to debate with you about Ran's intentions, but you remained firm in your conviction that it was all just a coincidence. You didn't want to admit that the thought of Ran being interested in you excited you, so you tried to play it cool and act nonchalant. deep down, though, a small part of you hoped that your friends were right and that Ran really was interested in you. But you quickly pushed that thought aside, reminding yourself that he was a delinquent with a bad reputation, and that getting involved with him would only lead to trouble.

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A few days had passed since your encounter with Ran Haitani, and you had almost forgotten about it. But fate had different plans in store for you. As you walked into the convenience store, you noticed Ran standing by the chips aisle. Your heart skipped a beat as you remembered him, and you couldn't help but feel a little nervous you tried behind another isle until it was to late he was already looking at you. Ran smiled lightly as he saw you, and he sauntered over to you with his usual casual confidence. "Hey there" he said, his voice smooth and playful. You tried to act casual and calm, but your heart was racing and you couldn't help but feel a little flustered in his presence.

You tried to come up with a witty response, but your mind went blank and you just stumbled over your words. Ran chuckled at your nervousness, clearly enjoying the effect he was having on you. "You're cute when you're nervous" he teased, leaning against the shelf next to you. Your cheeks burned as you heard his compliment, and you tried to regain your composure. "I'm not nervous" you managed to say, your voice betraying you by cracking slightly. Ran smirked, obviously enjoying your attempts to act casual.

He took a step closer to you, and you could feel the heat radiating off his body and the scent of his cologne filling your senses. "Oh really?" he said, his voice low and seductive. "Then why is your heart beating so fast?'" You could feel your heart beating faster and faster in your chest, and you couldn't deny that Ran was right. You were a nervous wreck, and you couldn't understand why he had such a strong effect on you. You tried to come up with a response, but your mind was a jumble of nerves and conflicting emotions.

You were completely under his control, and you knew it. His touch sent electric currents through your body, and you couldn't tear your gaze away from his intense eyes. He leaned in closer, his breath hot against your ear as he spoke, his voice a whisper, "You can't hide it from me, you know. I can see right through you.'"

Ran's words sent a shiver down your spine, and you could feel the intensity of his gaze boring into yours. Suddenly, he blurted out, "Go on a date with me.'"

You were taken aback by his sudden proposition, but before you could respond, he continued, "Don't overthink it. Just say yes." Your mind was a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions, but somehow you found yourself nodding in agreement. "Uh, yes sure."

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A few hours later, you found yourself at Ran's house, alone with him in his room. As you sat on the edge of Ran's bed, your mind was racing. How the fuck did you end up here, alone with him in his room? You tried to push past the shock and focus on the present, but your thoughts kept going back to earlier. The date had been a whirlwind of flirting and teasing from Ran, and you found yourself getting more and more worked up. His intense gaze and confident demeanor had left you feeling flustered and horny at the same time.

You remembered how he had whispered suggestive things into your ear, and how he would touch you in ways that made your skin tingle. You tried to push those thoughts away, but the memories kept replaying in your mind, causing a heat to pool in your stomach.

Ran turned around and stalked over to you, his eyes dark with desire. "Can't stop thinking about me, can you?" he asked with a smirk, leaning down to press his body against yours. His touch ignited a fire within you, and you found yourself responding to his advances. Ran's hands ran up and down your body, exploring you as his lips crashed down onto yours. "You taste so good," he breathed, his words sending shivers down your spine. "I wanna fuck you so bad rightnow."

Ran lifted you a bit more on the bed, his hungry gaze devouring your body. He kissed his way down your neck, leaving a trail of kisses and bites as he explored your sensitive skin. His hands tugged at your dress, revealing your lace bra and panties.

With his fingers, Ran unhooked your bra, freeing your breasts. He took one swollen nipple into his mouth, sucking and teasing it with his tongue, causing you to arch your back and moan loudly. His hands cupped your breasts, squeezing and kneading them as he continued to pleasure you with his mouth.

"You like that, huh?" Ran murmured against your skin. "You're so fucking responsive, baby. I'm gonna make you cum so hard." You could only nod, your body trembling with anticipation. Ran's hands moved down your body, his fingers slipping beneath your panties and finding your wet folds again. He stroked your clit, circling it slowly, building up the pleasure until you were writhing beneath him. "Please... Ran," you begged, your voice hoarse with need. "I need more..." Ran chuckled, his warm breath fanning your skin. "Patience, baby. I'm gonna make this good for you."

Ran positioned himself between your thighs, his hard cock pressing against your entrance. Your eyes locked with his, a mixture of excitement and nervousness reflected in your (e/c) gaze.

"You ready for me, baby?" Ran asked, his voice low and seductive. You nodded, your heart pounding. "Yes,please... I want you..." With one smooth thrust, Ran filled you his cock sliding deep inside your tight pussy. You cried out, your body adjusting to the invasion, the sensation both overwhelming and exquisite. Ran began to move, his hips thrusting in a steady rhythm. Each stroke sent waves of pleasure through your body, your walls gripping his cock tightly. You wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him closer, urging him to go deeper.

"Fuck, you feel so good," Ran groaned, his muscles stracing as he drove into you. "Your pussy is like a vice, milking my cock..."

Your hands gripped his shoulders, your nails digging into his skin as you rode the waves of pleasure. Ran's pace quickened, his strokes becoming more intense, hitting all the right spots within you. "I'm... I'm gonna cum, Ran!" You cried out, your body tensing. Ran's fingers found your clit, rubbing it in circles as he pounded into you. "Cum for me, baby. Let go..." your orgasm hit you like a storm, your body shaking as waves of pleasure rolled through you. You cried out, your walls clenching around Ran's cock, milking him as your juices flowed.

Ran grunted, his own release building as he felt you tighten around him. He thrust a few more times, then pulled out, his throbbing cock glistening with your combined fluids. Your eyes widened as you saw him stroke his length, his hand moving in a blur.

With a guttural groan, Ran erupted, his hot cum spraying across your stomach and breasts. You gasped, your body still quivering from your orgasm. You reached down, your fingers playing in the warm liquid, smearing it across your skin.

Ran collapsed beside you, his breathing ragged. He pulled you close, his hands gently caressing your body. "That was fucking incredible, baby. You're amazing." You snuggled into his embrace, your heart racing. You had never experienced such raw passion, and you couldn't help but wonder what the future held with this charismatic delinquent. Little did you know, you were about to discover the true side of him....

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Days after you guys would meet up and go on dates randomly and he would text you during the night sexting he would buy you random things as well and this drawn you to develop deep feelings for him it made you think that this is turning into something serious between the two of you.

But that's when lately you couldn't help but notice that Ran had been acting bit distant lately. He was constantly glued to his phone, and whenever he received a call, he would make an excuse to step away. Something felt off, and your suspicion and worry grew with each passing day. You thought to yourself it might be something important since he was part of gang.

One day, as you and Ran were out on a date, you noticed him scrolling through his phone more than usual. You tried to shake off the feeling of unease, but you couldn't help but glance over at his phone, wondering who he was texting. Just as you were about to ask him about it, he suddenly got a call, and he looked at you with a guilty expression before quickly stepping away to take it.

Ran reappeared after his phone call, his expression guarded and distant. You couldn't ignore the feeling of unease that had been building up inside you, and you decided to confront him.

"Who were you talking to?" you asked, trying to keep your voice steady. Ran's expression remained guarded, and he avoided eye contact as he replied, "Just a friend." The words stung, and your suspicion flared up. "A friend?" you repeated, your voice betraying your disbelief.

Ran seemed uncomfortable under your scrutiny, and he looks at you. "Yeah, just a friend," he repeated, as if trying to convince himself as much as he was trying to convince you. Despite your growing suspicion, you didn't want to jump to conclusions and cause a scene so you decided to drop the conversation for now. But deep down, you couldn't shake off the feeling that something was off.

Ran seemed relieved that you had dropped the subject and quickly changed the topic, trying to brush off your concerns. The rest of the date continued awkwardly, with Ran still distracted by his phone and avoiding any mention of his "friend". After a few moments of uncomfortable silence, you gathered up the courage to bring up the conversation again. "Ran, can I talk to you about something?" your voice was hesitant, unsure of how he would react.

Ran paused in his scrolling and looked up, a hint of annoyance flickering across his face. "What is it?" he asked, a note of impatience in his tone.

You swallowed, trying to ignore the pang of hurt in your chest. "It's just... I can't help but notice that you've been acting different lately. You're always on your phone, and you never seem to have time for me." Your voice was quiet, laced with a mixture of concern and insecurity. Ran's face softened slightly at your words, and he set down his phone. "It's just some stuff with my gang," he said, sighing. "Nothing for you to worry about."

He reached out and took your hand, his touch surprisingly gentle. "I'm sorry if I've been distant. It's just been a tough time dealing with some gang-related issues." Ran's gentle touch and sincere apology helped to soothe your worry some, and you tried to push aside your nagging doubts. Maybe you had been overthinking things, and he was just having a hard time dealing with his gang-related issues.

The walk home was quiet but not uncomfortable, and you found yourself walking side by lado in companiable silence. When you finally reached your doorstep, you turned to Ran, thanking him for walking you home. He smiled, looking more like his usual self. "No problem," he said, leaning in to give you a quick kiss on the cheek.

"See you soon," he said, as he stepped back.

You watched him walk away, his figure disappearing into the night. Despite your lingering doubts, you tried to push them aside and focus on the fact that he had reassured you and apologized for his behavior. When you finally made it into your apartment, you felt exhausted both physically and emotionally. The events of the night had left you feeling drained and confused, and you couldn't shake off the lingering doubts about Ran. As you stepped into the shower, the hot water cascaded down your body, loosening the tension in your aching muscles. After the shower, you collapsed into bed, hoping that sleep would bring clarity to your chaotic thoughts.

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Next day as you made your way to your beauty school, your mind was preoccupied with thoughts of Ran. He hadn't called or texted you since the night before, and you couldn't help but worry that something was wrong. You tried to push aside the nagging feeling of doubt and focus on your classes, but your mind kept wandering back to him.

Hours later you were walking home from your classes, lost in thought and still worried about Ran, when your phone suddenly rang. You glanced down at the screen, seeing that it was Rindo calling. Surprised and a bit worried, you answered it. "Hello?" you said, your voice slightly hesitant. Rindo's voice came through the phone, "Hey, is Ran with you?" he asked, skipping any pleasantries.

As you were about to tell him something else your words caught in your throat as you suddenly spotted Ran in the distance, his arm casually slung over the shoulder of another girl. You froze, feeling a knot forming in your stomach as you watched them chatting and laughing together. "what the hell" you breathed, your voice barely above a whisper.

Your mind was reeling, and you felt unable to tear your gaze away from the scene unfolding in front of you. Ran seemed completely engrossed in his conversation with the girl, seemingly unaware of your presence just a few yards away. Ran's head suddenly snapped up, and his eyes met yours. You watched as his expression changed from surprise to careless, and for a moment, he just stood there frozen.

Feeling the tears welling up in your eyes, you quickly turned away and walked away as fast as you could, wanting to put as much distance as possible between yourself and Ran. The hurt and betrayal of seeing him with another girl was almost too much to bear. As you hurried away, your mind raced with conflicting emotions. How could he do this to you after everything you'd been through together? The thought of him with another girl was like a dagger to the heart, and you felt like you couldn't breathe. You replayed the scene over and over in your mind, each time feeling a fresh wave ofhurt and anger. How long had he been seeing this girl behind your back? Had all his talk of gang-related issues been a lie?

As the shock and pain began to subside, you felt a wave of realization wash over you. Your friends had warned you about Ran, telling you that he had a reputation as a player. You had been so blinded by your feelings for him, so eager to believe his excuses, that you didn't want to listen. The bitter realization hit you like a ton of bricks. You suddenly understood why he had been so distance lately, why he had been so secretive about his phone and his whereabouts. You were the side chick, not the main event.

"Asshole.." you whispered. Your hand balling into a angry fist as your knuckles turned white.

As the realization settled in, your anger and hurt began to transform into something else: determination. You couldn't - no, you wouldn't - let Ran get away with treating you like this. A plan started to form in your mind, fueled by your anger and hurt. You knew Ran was a player, and you knew how to hit him where it hurt the most.

The thought of using Rindo to get back at Ran was appealing, and you slowly began to formulate a plan in your mind. You knew Rindo had a bit of a soft spot for you, and you believed that you could easily manipulate his feelings to further your plan.

Ran try to reach out to you to give you a lame ass excuse on to why you seen him with that girl he stepped into his house, feeling frustrated that he hadn't been able to reach you. But as he looked around, he noticed something was off. There were clothes scattered on the floor, leading towards his bedroom.

Confusion and concern washed over him, and he cautiously walked towards his bedroom. As he stepped through the door into his bedroom, his eyes widened. The scene that greeted him was one he had never expected.

There, on HIS bed, was you – with a very naked Rindo and the view of your ass as you ride rindo. You looked back at Ran, your expression smug and challenging as you met his gaze. A smirk played on your lips, clearly enjoying the effect you were having on him. You moan out Rindos name. "Oh fuck rin."

Next to you, Rindo looked a little nervous but he was feeling to good to give a fuck anyways still lounging shamelessly on the bed. You get off of Rindo, giving him a quick kiss on the cheek as a casual farewell. He looked a bit dazed and satisfied but also cautious, unsure what would happen next.

You walk as you grab your heels and stop infront of ran you turned your attention to Ran, your gaze meeting his defiantly. A petty, smug smile tugged at the corners of your lips as you spoke. "Hope you enjoyed the show," you taunted, your voice dripping with sarcasm. "and I guess this whole side chick and side man is fun don't you think?."

Ran's jaw tensed further as you spoke, his anger reaching a boiling point. The sight of you with Rindo, coupled with your petty and mocking words, pushed him dangerously close to the edge of his self-control but had no words to say because he didnt expect her to do that.

You turned away from him, a sense of vindictive satisfaction coursing through your veins. You knew your words had hit a nerve, and judging by the look on Ran's face, they had stung just as you wanted them to.

As you walked away, you could feel Ran's gaze burning into your back, his anger and jealousy palpable in the air but you didnt give two shits.

"See you around haitani." You smirked to yourself as you walked away, feeling a sense of bitter satisfaction. You knew Ran was seething with anger, and the thought brought you a small measure of comfort.

With a final glance back at the mess you had left behind, you continued walking away, leaving Ran with his face dumbfounded..

︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶︶︶⊹︶︶︶︶⊹︶

@mdsbabygirl

[saranilssonbooks]

100 Moby-Dick covers ranked by your's truly. Thank you so much to all those of you who sent in contributions and helped make this completely out of proportion project a thing. Jars of angelic spermaceti for everyone! 🤍

As for the ranking, it is purely the result of my own personal taste in aesthetics and heavily influenced by my perception of the story. Add to that a generous amount of sentimentality, as shall be apparent.

What I have been mainly looking at in judging the designs is as follows...

- General appearance; is it attractive? 💕

- Does it help sufficiantly communicate the nature of the story (theme, genre, mood, plot)? ⚰️

- Is it canon? (Meaningful creative licence perfectly allowed!) ✅️

As for the tiers themselves, we have...

Topmost Greatness: this is something out of the ordinary, possibly genius and also I neeeeed it for my collection!

A: Good, good stuff, but might lack that very extra special something

B: Gets the job done, agreeable, totally okay.

C: It's not exactly bad and I'll let that oopsie over there slide, but I probably wouldn't pay much for this one.

You Had One Job: Yeah, you did.

Should Never Have Surfaced: Makes the Pequod tragedy look like a merry holiday.

Art thou ready?

TOPMOST GREATNESS

1. The most beautiful Moby-Dick cover I've ever seen. I was almost tempted to create a tier higher than Topmost Greatness only so that I could place it there.

2. Brilliant composition and color choice, despite its simplicity it hits me straight in the soul.

3. I remember drooling over this in the book store back in the day and considered reading it only because it was so gorgeous. Manages to be both crowded and clean at the same time. Story instantly recognizable.

4. The classiest of all time? Forever a winner!

5. I show the image of this one to people to make them understand the creative brilliancy that thrives within the Moby-Dick community.

6. Captures the mood in a fittingly crooked, awkward way that makes my heart beat faster. (Also reminds me of my copy of One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest for some reason.)

7. Another sort of awkward one, but I love the style, I love the surreal combination of drama and stiffness, pretty fitting the story itself. Makes 'Hab look a bit like the Grim Reaper.

8. The erratic painting technique gives me the perfect kind of crazy vibes.

9. Moby-Dick, a bibliophile's dream, topmost mood nailing, superior dark academia accessory... what more could anyone wish for in a book?

10. So well thought out and the claustrophobic feel helps to create an unsettling mood despite the otherwise quite cheery colors. Sorry, Madagascar.

11. Look, my two main areas of Moby-Dick interest is Ahab and rhe psychology, so... y'know.

12. Mood certainly set.

13. Guess I have a thing for harpoon/eye symbolism. Again that claustrophobic feel by leaving only a sliver of crowded surface.

14. First physical Moby-Dick copy I ever bought. All the books in this Penguin series are gorgeous, but to me this is one of the design winners regardless of the contents.

15. Unsettled in all this tropical serenity yet?

16. The boldness in color choice and to focus on the fire theme is as unusual as it is exciting, and the very modern touch makes it even more interesting!

A.

17. Not normally a style I'm drawn to, but somehow this manages to capture my interest. A successful nod to the painting at the Spouter Inn, lovely line work. My sibling got me this one as a locket for my last b-day.

18. My beloved companion, by now containing almost as much tape as paper. The 19th century poster design is irresistable to me. A white tail would've been even cooler though.

19. It's not that unique looking, yet the worn feel and harpooned Moby Dick simply gets to me somehow.

20. All the crucial elements skillfully and effectivly forged (no pun intended) together.

21. The way the psychology has been captured and the missing leg detail is yum!

22. Kind of busy but so unique and interesting! Yes plz.

23. Another classic! How could Kent's iconic whale ever fail?

24. Aiming for the adventure theme, it appears, and successfully so. Unusual color choice which I happen to be all about. Total vintage feel!

25. Again, not that much is happening, but the ropes, the character design, the inking... I love you, cover, and I need you in my life!

26. An often used scene, but the style gets to me so, so bad.

27. I'm not that much about the washed out color, but the rest is love.

28. Very basic, but also very nice and display friendly and I enjoy the vibe so much.

29. Almost made it to Topmost, but the positioning of the illustration gives off a cheap feel to me. Why couldn't you have used that gorgeous theme depiction to better advantage? Can one order a remake? Or a cropped poster?

30. Love the composition so much but the technique simply doesn't do it quite enough for me to move up one full notch. Still want it so bad for the collection though.

31. Runny ink on pure white is something I associate with Moby-Dick, don't know why. The blotchiness is a really great touch.

32. The design doesn't say much concerning the content, but nevertheless it is so pretty and am I correct when I say there's harpoon vibes?

33. Had that been a white whale, it would've ended up under Topmost!

34. My first reaction to this was that it's a really interesting piece of art, but I wasn't so sure I liked it as much in book cover form. The more I look at it, the more intrigued and enamoured I get. I want more of this.

35. Ahab and Moby Dick from Ahab's POV? Love the distorted psychedelic atmosphere, but another one with missed full illustration use potential.

B.

36. Brings back the menory of cigarettes and fear. Granny the Gregory Peck fan owned one of these and it freaked me out where she kept it on display ever after I'd been forced to watch the movie at age 6. Now I want one just for the hell of it.

37. Okay, so hear me out. I know it's a children's book, but the illustrator obviously knew the story. Love the tangling rope and that Ahab's prosthetic leg seems made out of whale bone rather than wood for once.

38. Nice modern touch, but that's straight up the New Bedford whaler statue, which kinda ruins it for me.

39. Lovely, lovely design, but I simply don't associate it with a story about suicidal tendencies, gore, and mass death.

40. A somewhat unusual character choice to pose on a cover, but hey, I'll take it! :D

41. Doesn't pop, but I do like me some traditional Japanese art vibes!

42. Elegant, but the huge M obscures the title text and the harpoon looks as if crossed with a sewing needle.

43. Basic, but the feel is there and I like the color combination for this story.

44. Love the art and it's impossible not to identify which story this is, but I have several Ahab design choice questions which won't leave me.

45. This whole thing is odd and busy, but I also really like it!

46. Speaking of Japanese traditional art. The lines and the moodiness is much to my liking.

47. Simple, spot on, nothing that extra.

48. If only he hadn't looked so damn happy about it as if Ahab was about to throw that harpoon like a stick for him to fetch. Untold plot line??

49. There is this whole sub genre of Moby Dick balancing the Pequod, a concept that certainly works, but by now it has to have that little extra something to seem truly special.

50. We have a less erroneous whale, folks! It may be a stock image, but Ishmael gave this one thumbs up, and so how could I possibly do differently? Nicely done!

51. First, I get strong The Old Man and the Sea impressions. Second, what kind of whale do you intend to kill with that thing, my dude? Points for canonical end game beard though.

52. I assume this is meant as a traditional Polynesian art style nod in honor of our dear Queequeg. The sports wear lining texture in the title letters confuses me though.

53. There certainly are plenty of canon here, but also, this is some odd mayhem and where are you aiming, Captain? Yay, ivory leg again!

54. Basic, works perfectly fine.

55. This is a really odd scene choice to pick for a cover, but I love this edition and its illustrations to bits. In fact, I'm planning on posting a review of it soon.

C.

56. I haven't peeked into Melville's mind, but I'm pretty sure the Pequod looked quite different. The story is unmistakable though.

57. Nothing wrong with it, I guess, but way too messy for me to be comfortable with.

58. Not much to say here, but a perfectly nice-looking cover for any book.

59. Gets the job done, but not that inspiring.

60. Despite seemingly little effort behind it, this design based on a 19th century (erroneous) whale drawing could have gone straight up to A. You see, in the original image the (erroneous) whale has his penis (erroneous?) in full view, but on this cover it has been erased. How could I not have given a Moby-Dick book cover depicting dozens of (erroneous) whale dicks A? Alas.

61. Good, professional-looking cover, but judging by the illustration only, I would have guessed this was a children's book about the adventures of a jolly porpoise named Toni.

62. No spoilers to see here or anything. Is that a gold prosthetics??

63. This looks so much like a academic book on psychology. Not too far off, I suppose, but I wouldn't be able to figure out which famous story it is.

64. The Temple toggle harpoon was invented in 1848. Do with this information what you will.

65. Hey! That other cover from before! Have to say that the color alterations and helm sihouette wasn't an improvement.

66. A bit extreme for me.

67. I call this excessive simplicity. If you need a copy of Moby-Dick, you will recognize it at once, but it might not attract new readers merely in itself.

68. Just because it's a children's book doesn't mean the vibe has to be off, but I think it is in this case. Recently posted an example of this illustrator's adorable Ishmael here.

69. Where's the title? Confusing for a cover, but I would love this for a poster of mug! Also, the biggest words are Ahab, Queequeg, and Pequod, which I find mildly insulting towards a certain someone. What was he called again?

70. Cool whale picture which I really like, but the accuracy for Moby-Dick isn't really there.

71. It's blue.

72. I understand the idea and the illustration is awesome, but for me, the vibe is strangely all off and I get almost a comedic feel. Again, that's just me.

73. I often feel like an Ahab apologist and can often be somewhat harsh on the whale, but holy shit! A sort of red herring situation meant to make the reader think Ahab will be the winner?

74. It looks full of action and Scrooge's Ahab cosplay look is really neat, but I have... concerns.

75. I don't remember the scene playing out like this and Ahab is clearly not having it.

YOU HAD ONE JOB

76. The exact face I made the first time I saw this kind of cover.

77. After all the people I've heard at the museum mistaking the sperm whale skeleton for an orca, I'm honestly surprised these fails aren't more common. The snowy setting is a nice touch.

78. Hast seen the white beluga?!

79. First shark Moby-Dick I ever saw and during my first week on Tumblr even. The nostalgia is real, shipmates.

80. Cool scene. Where is it from?

81. Come on! This is a fucking Wordsworth's edition!

82. My sentiments exactly.

83. No, it isn't.

84. At first I seriously thought this was some interesting modern sci-fi/fantasy take on Moby-Dick. Nope.

85. At least the person who did this one bothered to give it a traditional nautical flair.

86. The ocean is canon.

87. *screaming shark mode*

SHOULD NEVER HAVE SURFACED

88. Someone's dad is balancing on top of a fire breathing eel whilst ravens are flying around and a poor guy has dark thoughts in the bottom right corner and... I dunno, man. "Whaling voyage turns fatal obsession" apparently. Moby-Dick the Prequel?

89. Whoa, dude!! I know you're angry, but holy shit!

90. "Captain Ahab? He went that way. Me? Just your average cliché 18th century pirate. If you don't mind me asking, sir, what sort of creature are you?"

91. By "annotated" they mean the truth about Wild Bill Hickok's one time side gig as a whaler. There's a fan fiction idea for ya.

92. What in the everloving AI fuck is happening here?

93. Friends, your guesses are as good as mine.

94. In the early 2020s, the ghost of Melville Herman set out to find the ghost of Moby Dick.

95. I guess we never learned what Ahab's dad died from back in the 18th century. Runs in the family and all that.

96. ?????????

97. If you download a public domain work to sell on Amazon for a possible extra buck, taking one minute to check the basic plot before slapping a stock image on it for a cover will be an actual long term investment.

98. "Lol! U overbite!"

99. Well, he is clearly a zombie whale, so maybe this is the sequel then?

100. And thus endeth MOBY D CK.

[beardedjoel]

pretty little wife | meet cute, part 2

joel miller x f!reader one shot collection

series masterlist | main masterlist | ao3 | ✨kofi ✨ summary: 9.5k words; joel takes you on your first date, and it doesn't end up like he'd planned. not that either of you seem to mind, of course. warnings: 18+ MDNI! no apocalypse au, relationship/dynamic not established yet like the other chapters, unprotected piv, rough sex, oral sex (f receiving), reader is a little bratty in this chapter, talks of brat punishment, sub/dom relationship, dirty talk, pet names for reader, joel is so fucking handsy here i am Feral, minor bits of angst (reader backstory stuff) a/n: welp apparently i am incapable of writing a short chapter for these two right now >< i'm really loving the way that pretty wife started out a bit bratty and has this pipeline to being joel's good little wife it's kinda doing something for me

You don’t know if your heartbeat could get any louder, nearly drowning out the trill of the line ringing in your ear. You’re moments away from speaking to your mystery man from the bar again, to Joel, who’d seemed intent on changing the entirety of your life with one single fuck in a bar bathroom.

“Hello, Miller Contracting,” a deep voice lumbers out on the other end, sounding nearly clinical with the greeting. You have no doubt it's Joel - his voice feels too recognizable, the deep richness of it combined with his Texas twang that had you absolutely swooning last night. You will your lips to part, for words to rush out, but you pause, trying to get the lump out of your throat.

“Uh - Joel?” you croak out.

“Mhm,” he replies absentmindedly. You picture him at a desk somewhere, sorting through papers, or working on a construction site, his muscles bulging out his shirt and you’re temporarily lost to the fantasy. “What can I do for you?”

“I-it’s me -” you say, repeating your name to him. “From last night…” you add on.

He laughs, a deep rumble in the phone, and your heart lifts what feels like miles within your chest. “Yeah, from last night, didn’t need to clarify, sweetheart.”

“S-sorry. I’m Nervous,” you say simply, wringing your hands together on your lap.

“Now hang on a second, how’d you get this number? Don’t recall givin’ it out,” Joel says, a hint of playfulness in his voice. The fact that he seems eager to talk to you, tease you, immediately dissipates the nervousness you’d had about calling him. 

“Er, I’m persistent, that’s all I’ll say,” you tell him with a flush of your cheeks.

“Well, if I’m honest, I’m happy as hell to hear from ya,” Joel says. You feel your eyebrows twitch and mouth part in surprise.

“You are?” You wish you didn’t sound so desperately surprised by the fact, but the words tumbled out of you before you could stop them.

“Felt like a damn idiot, forgettin’ to get your number last night. Not how a gentleman should act.” You can practically visualize Joel shaking his head at himself and running a hand through his hair on the other end.

“And you think you acted like a gentleman otherwise?” You smirk and bite your lip, already feeling a tingling in your limbs, a slow, swirling pool of arousal sinking deep into your gut.

Joel chuckles and makes a small humming sound. “Maybe not, but it got you callin’ me, didn’t it?”

You laugh heartily and agree with a sultry “mm-hmm.”

“So listen, I knew if I ever got to speak to you again, I wanted to… uh-” Joel clears his throat, and you can hear a slight wobbling, like he’s nervous. “See if I could take you on a proper date.”

“Oh really, a date? Not just a bar bathroom this time?” you ask, trying to quell a little bit of your excitement, play it cool around him. You’re having a hard time believing that he’d want to take you out, for some reason. This past year or so has been a slew of failed dates, refusals to call back, men telling you one reason or another you no longer interested them. This tended to happen after they’d already gotten something from you, which had only served to make you feel worse about the entire thing. You tried not to let it get to you, but really, you were craving to be loved, to be seen for who you were and loved for it. That was something you hadn’t gotten enough of in your life.

“Now listen, if you’re gonna be like that, maybe I don’t need t’take you out, do I?” Joel teases, and the tingling in your core intensifies, your legs rubbing together just at the low drawl of his voice prodding at you.

“I’d love to, Mr. Miller,” you say coyly, and you hear a sharp hiss of breath from Joel’s end.

“Little shit,” he mumbles.

“What’s that?” you lick your lips and fight the urge to twirl your hair, the feeling of getting him so riled up just over the phone giving you a perverse little twinge of satisfaction.

“Fuck, I need to see you again,” he nearly groans, and you’re unsure if he’d even meant the words for you to hear, so low and quiet. ”Dinner this Friday, then?” Joel asks you, and you bite your lip and scrunch your face up in excitement, knowing he can’t see you.

“It’s a date.”

Joel picks you up that Friday at 6:30, a bit of a sweating, anxious mess after fussing over your makeup and outfit for the last two hours. You end up landing on a white, frilly mini dress with a corset top, knowing your tits are on perfect display for him. A devious huff of laughter leaves you when you reach into your underwear drawer and dig out your sheer white over the knee stockings with a lace trim at the top and slide them up your legs. Maybe you are in the mood to be a bit of menace for him tonight, you think to yourself. The thought of Joel’s eyes practically falling out of his head when he sees you in this makes you smile and nearly squeal with delight as you put your finishing touches to your outfit with accessories and a touch up of your shimmery lip gloss.

When you bound outside of your apartment building, you can see a nearly pained expression on Joel’s face through the windows of his blue truck, pulled up right in front of your building. You hear the clicking of your little heels on the pavement, giving you a boost of confidence as you stride towards him, feeling your hair bouncing behind you.

You feel… fucking hot. And you know it’s partly because of who you know is going to be looking at you all night. Joel takes too long to stare and enjoy the view of you walking over before he’s scurrying out of his truck to reach you and grab the car door. 

“Evenin’,” he says, clearing his throat and you notice he seems a bit more quiet and shy in the light of day. He seems almost dazed, trying to take in as much of you as he can in just a few seconds, blinking as he processes just how tiny everything you’re wearing is.

“Got you these,” he says, holding out a small bouquet of flowers full of different pastel flowers and greenery. You can tell he put some thought into it, that he didn’t just pick a random bouquet and roll with it, and it makes you smile. 

“Thank you,” you say, studying the flowers for an extra beat. “Such a gentleman,” you coo as you step past him and start to climb into the seat. He huffs a little as you pass and shoots his hand out to grab your wrist, a tight hold as he yanks you back towards him. He doesn’t waste a second before pulling you flush with him, pressing the tops of your tits further out of your dress and onto his chest, covered in a button up shirt. His hand splays along the small of your back, rough and warm, seeping through the fabric of your dress. He leans down, capturing your lips with his.

“Not gonna give me a proper hello, were you?” he rasps once he pulls away. “Thought you were a polite girl.”

Your lips part and spread into a little smile as you lick your lips. “Sorry,” you say, putting your eyes down to the pavement for a moment before lifting them back up to his and cupping his face, raking your fingers through his beard and leaning back in for a soft, chaste kiss. “There’s your hello.”

“Mhm” Joel mumbles before he takes your hand in his, guiding you into his truck where you settle in, wrapping the seatbelt around yourself and watching him walk back around the front of the truck to the drivers side, admiring the way his button up hugs his broad form. 

When he sits down, instead of starting the truck he just looks over at you, drinking in your show of skin, hungry glances all over your body until his gaze lands on your tits, the swells of your breasts heaving slightly as you breathe nervously now that you’re alone with him. 

“You look like a goddamn angel, or somethin’,” he finally says, flicking his eyes to the tops of your stockings, and you notice his jaw set tightly while his hands clench in his lap. He softens a little once he looks at your face, amused eyes looking back into his. “Beautiful,” he adds, and you beam at him, twirling a bit of your hair around one of your fingers.

“Thank you,” you say shyly, leaning a little closer to him, knowing your cleavage is only being pushed together that much more at this angle in your seat. “You want me to be your little angel, Joel?”

“Christ…” he says under his breath, reaching his hands up to grip the steering wheel, knuckles going white with the strain of it. “Think you already seem to know the answer.”

“Well, I’ll take it you like my outfit, then. I picked it out special for you,” you tell him cheerfully, flouncing the skirt of your dress in your lap a bit. 

“Sure do,” he says quickly, starting the car, seeming to need to high tail it out of here before he completely ditches the dinner reservation to have his way with you. You opt to just watch Joel drive, observing his profile with a small, thoughtful smile. You see his brows twitch as he feels your stare on him, and he turns to the side while he’s stopped at a red light, giving you a closed lip smile.

“Did you just ask me on a date because you felt bad?” you ask suddenly, biting the inside of your cheek.

“Felt bad?” Joel asks, turning his eyes back to the road. 

“For what happened the other night.”

Joel huffs in the seat next to you, his head shaking the smallest bit. “You think I felt bad about any of that? What gave you that idea, now?”

“I… I don’t know. I was just surprised you still wanted to take me out after…” you trail off, glancing out the window to try and avoid your own spiraling thoughts.

“C’mon, doll, need to give me more than that. If you don’t wanna be here you gotta say.”

“No!” you cry out a little too loudly.

“If you just need to hear me say that I liked fuckin’ your tight little pussy or whatever gets you off, just say it, yeah? Don’t need these roundabout questions like a little brat,” Joel snips, and you swallow hard, realizing he’s gotten the complete wrong idea.

“N-no, nothing like that, Joel, I… I really want to be here, I really do. I guess I was worried,” you suck in a breath. “That you’d just be done with me after you got what you wanted. That’s what other guys have done. Older guys.” You can feel your voice getting mousier, quieting with your confession, afraid that the answer will be exactly what you’re afraid of. Joel’s expression softens, the lines between his brows letting up as his eyes lighten a bit.

“First off, I ain’t other guys, and I want you gettin’ that in your head right now, okay?” Joel says, glancing over to see you nodding small little bounces of your head, eyes wide. “Okay?” he asks again, a little more stern this time, reaching a hand over to grip your thigh.

“Okay.” 

“Good. An’ I ain’t even close to getting everything I want from you, probably never could be, so don’t wanna hear you say anythin’ like that again, got it?” His grip squeezes on your thigh, and you place your hand over it, covering his hand with your own.

Your mind spins, reeling with such a strong confession from him. You don’t know how it’s possible that after one night together, the both of you have something damn near unexplainable, something that’s been nestling itself deep into you since then. You tilt your head a little, giving him a soft smile, feeling all the worries you’d had this entire week start to melt away.

“Got it,” you tell him with a stern nod, your hair falling over your shoulder.

“Good girl,” he says, patting your thigh a few times. They twitch and clamp together a bit with his praise, the familiar rush of arousal from the other night coming back to you when he used those same words. You catch Joel smirking out of the corner of your eye, the effect he had with those two simple words not lost on him. 

You can see his face steel, his jaw setting tighter as his fingers move up your thigh, unsticking from the bare flesh he’d been touching and climbing upwards.

“You dress like this a lot? Or just wanted to get a rise out of an old man, hm?” he asks, fingers digging into your plush skin a little harder.

You twist your lips into a thoughtful pout, knowing it shows off the shiny pink of your lip gloss a little better, and Joel’s eyes drift there for a brief moment when he glances at you. 

“Sometimes.” You give him an indifferent shrug. “Mostly wanted to see how you liked it.”

“I’ll bet you did,” Joel replies plainly, nearly sounding irritated, but you somehow know that he’s more angry with himself right now, barely able to keep his trembling hand from moving further up your thigh.

“I mean, I thought the stockings might be too much, but don’t you think they go just perfect with this dress?” You trill in an innocent tone to him, moving his hand to play with the lace edges at the top.

“Mmm,” Joel replies, lips pressed tightly together. His fingers bury themselves under the band of the stockings, pads of his calloused hands grazing the skin underneath. You try to hold back a shudder but it’s no use, Joel’s touch is fully electric, sending a zip of pleasure up your spine. 

Your legs spread open wider in the seat, inviting him to move higher and you let out a quieter moan and slide the hem of your dress up a bit higher. You’re warm all over, skin flushing as his hand creeps up towards the apex of your thighs. You admit you’re having even more fun than you thought teasing him. He’d done this same thing to you at the bar, sloppily kissing along your neck until you’d felt nearly insane with need for him, and it gives you a little pump of satisfaction to see him falling apart so quickly. 

“Even got…” you breathe out, “The matching panties on.” Another tiny little mewl slips out when Joel’s fingertips slide along your inner thigh, ever closer to where you know you’re already wet for him. He peers over to see your chest heaving a bit, curves looking so inviting - all it would take was one little tug and your tits would be spilling out, just as they had the other night, so pretty and just for him. 

“Fuck it,” Joel grunts out, tearing his hand away from you and pulling off to the side of the road, turning into a passing neighborhood and swinging the car into the closest driveway to turn around. “I live close by, we’re goin’ to my place right now,” he says. “Fuckin’ wearin’ this little shit to get me all worked up…” His voice is mumbling now, seemingly to angrily talk to himself as he keeps his eyes straight ahead, not looking at you. 

His face is going pink with the effort of holding back from you, grunting while he maneuvers the car and speeds off, booking it towards his house. Your mouth forms perfect O before it splits into a grin, knowing you got exactly what you wanted from him. Something about driving a man like Joel crazy - someone who seems reserved, in control of these kinds of situations, makes you feel a little spark of pride mixed with your dousing of arousal.

“Teach you some damn manners, that’s what I’m gonna do,” Joel mumbles quietly, letting out little sighs of irritation.

“J-joel…?” you ask carefully.

“Mm-mm, not a word right now. You’ve said enough.”

You clamp your lips together, knowing you maybe shouldn’t be as thrilled as you are right now, feeling like sparks are dancing across your skin, magnifying right where Joel holds you, squeezing to where it might leave a bruise tomorrow, as if to hold you down, keep you in this car with him.

“Please…” you whimper, unsure what you’re asking for, just knowing you’re growing more desperate to feel him on you, inside of you.

“Please nothin’. You’re gonna act like this, I’m gonna react accordingly, you got that?” Joel snips, veins on his forehead protruding as he drives along, unable to even look in your direction. You stay silent while he whips through a suburban neighborhood, finally pulling into his driveway. 

“Stay,” he spits out before exiting the car, coming over to your side and opening the door. 

“Thank you,” you coo sweetly, which gets a devious smirk from Joel. 

“You’re tryin’ to be good now, are you?” he scoffs, wrapping his hand around your upper arm. 

“Thought you liked fucking good girls,” you say with a sly smile, repeating his own words back to him. He chuckles low and deep in his chest before tugging you out of the car, keeping one hand on your arm and the other pressed on your lower back, guiding you to the front door. Instead of letting you step out of the way, he presses himself so that you’re between his body and the door as he reaches around to unlock it, keys clanking in his awkward position. 

You can feel him, hard and long, cock painfully erect and pressing against your ass. You fight the urge to grind into him, thinking that maybe he may not see that as something a good girl would do. Instead, you let a little whimper slip out when he digs into you deeper as he turns the nob and pushes the door in. 

“Gonna be makin’ a lot more of those pretty little noises soon, honey,” he says low, near your ear as he nudges you inside. It’s dark, only bits of the setting sun coming through the windows, and you fumble past the doorway, the only anchor you have is Joel’s hand on your back. 

He flicks a switch, illuminating the room with a dim floor lamp, and you can see that you’ve stepped into his living room. It’s modest but cozy, and definitely seems to ooze his busy, bachelor lifestyle with plain, somewhat mismatched furniture. You had to hand it to him, though, just upon first glance he seemed relatively clean, unlike some men’s places you’d visited. 

“This is a nice pl-“ you start, cut off by one of Joel’s arms wrapping around your torso and pulling you into him with a thud. Your back is tight against his chest now, his head burying near the crook of your neck. He’s kissing you urgently - every spot he can find, biting and sucking and flicking his tongue, all gentle but firm, full of an unrelenting passion and frustration.

He groans loudly, hand tracing up your chest to grasp at one of your tits, squeezing it firmly and running his finger over your nipple. Both are hard and aching for him, poking through the fabric of your dress with no bra holding them back. He sucks so hard on a spot on the side of your neck that you gasp and twitch in his hold. He chuckles, quickly soothing the spot with his tongue and lips. 

“Couldn’t wait for me to get my hands on you, is that it? Why you dressed like that, hopin’ I’d bring you back here? Say fuck the nice dinner reservation I made us?” he finally speaks, nearly growling in your ear.

“I just - I-“ you stutter, mind reeling from his warmth blazing into your skin now, his voice rumbling close to your ear, low and gritty and sounding… almost angry with you. You feel a tightening in your core, pooling between your legs and you already start to ache for him, turned on by the way he’s chastising you and covering you with marks. 

“You were such a good girl the other night for me, can you do that again? Or you want to keep bein’ a brat?”

“N-no I liked being good for you, remember?” you blurt out, chest heaving and body fighting the urge to squirm out of his arms and show him, get on your knees and finally get him in your mouth. 

“Didn’t seem to think so in the car… if I didn’t know any better you wanted me to punish you, fuck you fuckin’ dumb ‘til you submit to me. And the thing is, honey, I like my girls to be good f’me. Don’t wanna have to work for it unless I want to.”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I just wanted to play around, make you a little crazy for me,” you say with a whine, your bottom lip starting to quiver. 

“C’mere, lemme see you,” Joel says, a quick grunt as he spins you around, catching you along your back with one hand, tilting your head up by the chin with the other. He takes in your wide, pleading eyes, plump lips turned into a frightened frown, and sighs. 

“S’okay, doll,” he says much softer, thumbing your chin and then stroking his fingers up your cheek. “Lucky for you I was in the mood to work for it a bit tonight, and you know why that is?”

You shake your head mutely, absolutely dumbstruck by his dark eyes narrowed and looking straight into yours. He’s so beautiful, so much more than you even remembered from the other night. It nearly sends an ache into your chest, just how perfect he is. 

“‘Cause you’re worth it, pretty girl. What kinda man would I be if I didn’t have to work for it a bit, hm?” His voice is changed, a bit more flexible, his tone coming off kinder now. You feel a surprised smile tugging at your mouth and you let it spread a bit, showing Joel that you’re pleased with what he said. 

“Show you how pretty you are…” he trails off, his eyes drifting down to your chest, where he’s watching your curves spilling out the top, your dress pulled down from the way he’d been touching you there. He tugs slowly on the fabric, pulling it so your tits are both spilling out, letting the neckline tuck underneath and press them upwards. 

He leans down to capture your lips in a softer kiss, letting your lips and tongues begin a gentle dance with each other. Joel’s fingers make their way under your dress, sliding the hem up to reach your ass, large palms splaying across both globes. He pulls you even closer, grinding you against his arousal and you groan, absolutely soaking for him, needing for him to touch you where you want him most. 

“Got your ass and tits out like a little whore for me now, don’t you? Like being my little whore?” he grits out, and you nod with a quiet mhm, lolling your head back as he places a few little bites on your neck. 

“Let me fuck you in that bathroom and comin’ home with me the first date ‘fore I can even buy you dinner,” Joel tuts, continuing to knead the plush flesh on your ass, stepping forward so that you have no choice but to walk backwards and further into the living room. He smacks your ass hard before rubbing the spot with a soothing touch. 

“Now get inside and take what you’ve been askin’ for, honey,” he says, stroking the side of your face gently. 

“W-where do you want me?” you ask timidly, looking into his chest before trying to meet his eyeline. He’s so intimidatingly in charge right now you can hardly meet his gaze, dark brown, nearly black in the dimness of the house. 

Joel seems to like your question, smirking and stroking your cheek again, calloused fingers sending a jolt of electricity that travels down your spine. “Good girl for askin’,” he coos, a flash of excitement in his eyes at your docility for him. He takes his hands to your shoulders, gently guiding you to stand in front of the couch. He turns and sinks back into the cushions, watching you stand in front of him, anxious with anticipation. 

“You gonna dress like a slutty little doll, I’m gonna treat ya like one and play with you as long as I want, yeah?” A quick, stunned nod from you before he continues. “Now take off that pretty dress,” he says, his tone deepening with the command. His eyes are glued to your chest where your tits are still popping out of the top, practically burning a hole in you with the intensity, heat creeping over your skin. You lift from the bottom, pulling it over your head in one slow movement, standing before Joel in only the skimpy lacy thong you’d chosen for tonight - white to match your dress and stockings. You reach to pull the stockings down and Joel shakes his head, eyes snapping to where your hands are. 

“Mm-mm, didn’t tell you to do that now, did I? Leave those on, doll. Panties next,” he drawls, and you follow his command, stepping out of your thong and leaving it on the floor beneath your feet. You take a nervous gulp, waiting for his next words, feeling right between your legs slickening even more as his eyes hungrily take you in. 

“C'mon over and sit right here,” Joel says, patting his lap. His words have an immediate effect, just like when he’d asked you to get on your knees at the bar, your body moving for him of its own accord. You pad over the few steps to him and settle yourself onto his lap so that you’re facing him, thighs on either side of his. Joel’s hands find your hips, holding you and stroking his thumbs along your bare skin there. There’s such a stark difference between the two of you right now - Joel, fully clothed, not even a button undone yet on his shirt, and you with the entirety of your body naked and exposed save for your stockings, sitting on top of him because he’d asked for it. All the fabric on your bare skin feels odd in the best way, like you’re doing something so wrong yet so right at the same time, like you’re Joel’s dirty little secret somehow with the way he has you in the palm of his hand right now.

He cocks his head a little, looking at you more seriously now. “Now listen, should’ve said this the other night, but you saw how I like to be in charge of things, right?” he says.

You nod. “Yeah,” you breathe out, just barely. You’re distracted by the feel of his broad, muscled body beneath you, his hard length pressing into you through his jeans. You feel your head swimming but you try to focus on his words.

“So tonight if it gets to be too much, if somethin’ is wrong, you gotta call out ‘red’ for me, mkay?”

You nod again. 

“Gonna need you to use your words, honey.”

“Yes, I got it. Red,” you repeat back to him, and the ghost of a smile comes to his lips. 

“Good girl,” Joel says, tucking your hair behind your ears and smoothing it. “Now…” he trails off, his grip tightening on you in an instant to flip you off of him and next to him on the couch cushions, his body following closely behind so that he’s on top of you. His mouth crashes into yours, all heat and tongue and teeth clashing and you moan into it with surprise, still trying to get your bearings from all the sudden movement.

He slips down your body, his lips trailing a hot, wet mess along the way as he sucks your neck, your tits, briefly swirling a tease of his tongue over one of your nipples before he finds his way between your legs. They fall open for him in your dizzied state and he takes no pause before burying his head there, licking fat stripe up your slit, groaning loudly at the taste of you. He licks the same pattern several times, relishing in all the slick arousal that was just for him, he thinks greedily.

When Joel starts to lap at your cunt in earnest, his tongue poking your entrance before flicking at your clit, repeating the motions over and over, you throw your head back, whining loudly and writhing down into his face and chasing your pleasure.

“F-fuck, I’m -” you whimper. “Joel I’m already gonna -” Your legs shake and he seizes one of your thighs into his palms before the other hand slips between your legs and swiftly buries two fingers inside of you, going deep to press against your g-spot. You’d thought endlessly about that feeling since the night with him in the bar, the way he’d been the first person to show you what you’d been missing, to bring you world ending pleasure when he split you open. You’re desperate for it again, knowing his fingers are enough, but you can’t help but picture the way his girth had stretched you, pressed into you so deeply that you already felt addicted to it.

When he pulls your clit into his mouth, pressing on the spongy part inside of you at the same time, you cry out, feeling your hips bucking into him, body taut and shaking as he pulls your orgasm out of you. His name spills from your lips as easily as anything you’ve ever said in your life, like you’ve been saying it for years and no other man has existed for you, could exist for you.

You slump back, breathless and wanting, a sheen of sweat coating your body from the intensity with which he’d rocked your reality, and you quickly realize he’s likely far from done with you tonight. It makes your stomach churn with anticipation, and you bring yourself back, focusing on the gentle touch of his lips on your sensitive nerves, peppering your pussy with little kisses, leading out to your thighs.

“Good fucking girl f’me, didn’t take long at all, did it?” he says wryly. 

“M-more…” you mumble, blinking your eyes to clear some of the post-climax fog you’re feeling, but it’s no use - Joel can see already how fucked out you are, barely even five minutes in. His heart swells with pride, excitement, the sick satisfaction of having you under his thumb, his to devour completely, body and soul.

He presses a kiss to your forehead, then your nose, finally meeting your desperate, soft lips with his. He’s on top of you, his body slithering over yours again, pressing against you. Your hands reach up and start to unbutton his shirt, hesitantly at first, but a small noise of approval from him urges you on, indicating that he’s okay with you making that decision. When he finally shrugs it off, you take a moment to pull yourself back from his kisses to gaze down at him, his bare chest revealed to you for the first time. You feel your sex ache as fresh arousal starts to drip out of you seeing the salt and pepper of the curls on his chest, his defined but still soft abdomen, so inviting and sexy. You start to feel nearly feral, your gut coiling tight with the need for him to fuck you again, to watch his perfect body relentlessly use you for his own pleasure.

“S-shit…” you manage to gasp out when you gingerly run a hand down his chest, letting your nails scratch through his hair, and Joel hums against you as his lips find your shoulder. You rake your fingers downwards, leading all the way to his happy trail where you leave your fingers to rest on his belt. He looks delighted at your visceral reaction to his body, never thinking much of it himself, the way it had gotten slightly doughy with age and his hair had already started graying. But seeing you see so much in it that he can feel your legs tighten underneath him, pussy likely fluttering just at the sight, makes his core twist in pleasure and his cock twitch.

He caresses your face gently, his touch soft despite the mischief growing in his eyes. “Don’t think you learned your lesson yet, bein’ such a brat in the car,” he says, letting you start to undo his belt. When his cock springs out, you nearly start again at how length and thick it is, nearly having forgotten just how stunning it was outside the confines of your memory. 

Joel notices your fresh reaction to his cock, the length of him twitching in anticipation to fuck you to pieces, to fuck you into being a good girl again. He can’t help but remember just how much it had shut you up to take his cock just a few nights ago, and he nearly whimpers at the memory alone. 

“N-no? Don’t think so?” you tease back, grinding yourself against his bare and freed cock and Joel responds first with a surly little growl, two of his fingers possessively gripping your chin. His eyes flash in a way that you think should scare you, but you can’t help but feel comforted by Joel’s presence nonetheless.

“Exactly what I’m talkin’ about, bratty little ass, y’are. And let me fill you in on somethin’ for your own good,” he drawls, running his thumb along your lower lip. Your breath is baited as your lips part in invitation to him and he doesn’t slip it inside, not yet, at least. He hikes your hip up with his other hand, angling you towards his body as he steps closer between your legs. “I don’t like brats, I want my girl to be nice ‘n good to me. Are you gonna be nice ‘n good to me, doll?” he says, finishing the thought.

You swallow hard. You don’t know how serious he is, if this is part of some bigger game of his, this dominance he likes to have. You feel a pull in your heart, like you find yourself agreeing with him, that the look he’d given you when he called you good girl and obedient the other night were exactly what you’d been seeking your entire life. There was something there, something to take pride in, that he thought you were doing good enough for him. You’d wanted to tease him tonight, sure, make sure he still thought you were beautiful and sexy, afraid you’d get left behind so quickly in the more than likely slew of women he could have interested in him. Joel’s version of sexy just happened to be someone submissive for him, and the way you’d felt being that for him the other night, so far tonight, it was exhilarating, like a part of you that you’d had no idea existed until now, until him.

“I don’t want to be a brat,” you say quietly, gazing up at him with delicate eyes now, having your decision made. You reach a hand down to his cock, practically pulsating with need for you, sitting so close to your warm heat as he hovers above you. You gently palm it, wrapping your hand around the shaft, admiring the fact that your fingers can’t even fit around the expansive girth of it.

“I want to be your good girl,” you breathe, and Joel’s eyebrow cocks before his thumb settles into your mouth as he groans a little. You sit still, the saltiness of his skin so inviting but you don’t dare move, feeling that it's some kind of test, one you intend on passing.

Joel knows that you’ve figured it out. He strokes the side of your hair lovingly with his free hand and chuckles deep and low, the sound reverberating in the quiet room.

“Suck,” he finally commands, and immediately you suckle on his thumb, hollowing your cheeks and swirling your tongue around it. Joel’s eyes flutter a bit and he groans between the feel of your hand on his cock and warm tongue wrapping around his thumb. He pushes it deeper and deeper, another one of his fingers entering your mouth, met with the same enthusiasm by your tongue. He gives a final push of his fingers, gagging you, and your hand falls off his cock, having you distracted enough that you barely notice he’s notched himself at your entrance. When he splits you open with his head you gasp around his fingers, stuffed far back in your throat. It burns and aches and stretches but you feel exhilarated by it, awakened and alive by the absolute girth of him breaking you open and finding a place inside of you as he pushes on inch by inch.

“Good girl,” he whispers roughly, eyes intently locked onto yours as they widen and tear up with all the different intrusive sensations. But despite all of that, your insides warm at his words, finding a home in your heart and nestling in. That’s when you know for sure - you’re done for, you’re a goner, this is the man you’ll spend your life doing this for, chasing and seeking those two little words from him no matter what it takes. You want this.

“Y’sure that’s what you want? Be my good little doll? Be sure before I use you like one,” he says, checking in with you quietly, his lips lingering just above yours.

You nod, your breath hitching, and he can see the fear of the unknown in your eyes, but he smiles at your willingness to try for him. “I want it, I want it, use me, Joel,” you breathe out erratically, the words tumbling out of you without a second thought.

The next moment is nearly a blur, a switch seeming to flip in Joel as pops his fingers out of your mouth, grunting with the effort of yanking your hips upwards so that you have no choice but to wrap your legs around him. He begins a relentless fucking into you, pounding his cock over and over, and its only now that you can see just how well controlled he had been these last few minutes, so collected only to unleash it on you now. Your eyes squeeze shut, rolling back into your head as you bite back the cries of him stretching you so quickly and harshly, so much more rough than the other night.

“Fuck…” he groans, “Tight little pussy, could never forget how good it feels, just like I remembered, baby,” he praises as he continues to jackhammer into you. Your body is crumpled up underneath his huge frame on the couch, legs moving further up his body until they nearly reach his shoulders. He takes the initiative to tug them that way, propping your ankles onto his shoulders before he takes a swift bite at one of them. You yelp but quiet immediately, letting the soft moans you’d been making slip past your lips again instead. 

You see Joel’s approval in his smirk, the way his face contorts with pleasure as he goes red from exertion, his body gathering sweat as you run a desperate hand down his chest. You feel so far away in this position, your lips so far from his, wanting to feel your skin touching in every possible spot. You’re drunk on him already and need more, more of his warmth and his scent and the feeling of him. 

“I want to - p-please, feel you closer, please…” you beg, hoping that your politeness will win him over into doing something that you want.

“Yeah? Want to bounce on this fat cock of mine, pretty girl? That do you some good?”

You nod quickly and urgently, breathing in with the anticipation of being moved as Joel pushes his cock as deep as he can before bracing himself to swap your spots. It feels effortless, the way he contorts the both of you until he’s laying back on the sofa and you’re straddled on top of him. 

“Oh my god…” you murmur when you sink fully down onto him. Your head tilts back and mouth gapes open as you feel him so fully, pressing so deep inside of you at this angle. “Joel…”

“I know, baby, m’so deep in there,” Joel says soothingly now, his demeanor changed for the moment. He starts to move your body for you, achingly slow on his cock while he urges your hips up and down. One hand slides to your belly, gently pushing low down on your abdomen. “Feel m’self right in there, baby, right where I’m meant to be,” he coos, looking at his hand in amazement. 

“Feels so fuckin’... so good,” you whine, starting to move more quickly on top of him. You can’t compare it to anything else, anyone else you’ve ever been with, the way Joel’s cock stretches you with each new thrust, the pain giving way to an aching pleasure as your walls are stimulated over and over by him.

“C’mere,” Joel grunts out, wrapping his bulky biceps around your back and pulling you down so that your top half is more flat against his chest. He slips one hand into your hair, bringing you in for a deep, hungry kiss that you both moan into. At this angle he holds more power, able to thrust up into you after he bends his knees. You’re losing all sense of time, of sensation and noise around you, just Joel Joel Joel Joel Joel fucking into you with everything he’s got, his hot breath on your neck and ear and buried into the side of your hair. His lips warm and wet on any part he can find while you take and take and take what he’s doling out, your cunt starting to ache from the way he’s pounding into you but desperately begging for more, fluttering around his length. Your moans ramp up when you feel your clit start to brush against the curls at the base of his cock, his name whispered into his neck in between your cries. 

“There we go, doll, get what y’need, c’mon,” he says near your ear, urging you on. You’re only brought back to some semblance of reality as Joel smacks your ass with a swift, hard slap and you moan out. A new flutter and gush from your cunt around him makes Joel grunt and he fucks up into you like a crazed, possessed man, intent on only you you you. 

“Tha’s right, honey, so fuckin’ wet for me,” Joel grits, his hips snapping in a nearly impossible pace into you. You think you’re starting to black out, your vision a bit spotty from how hard he’s ramming the entirety of his cock into you, your g-spot so stimulating along with your clit and you’re grasping at the cushions on either side of you, nearly pounding your fists into them as Joel holds you close, not letting you move an inch, not letting this climax get away from either of you. 

“God, Joel, fuck… I c-can’t -“ you whine, your entire body tightening, damp with sweat as your tits slide across his chest with each new thrust. 

“Y’can, now be a good girl and come for me,” Joel says, hot heat of his lips meeting yours for a sloppy kiss, both of your tongues half missing the others’ mouth, making a mess on your faces full of saliva and the remnants of your lip gloss. Everything is so slick, slippery, and you gush between your legs, your wet arousal dripping out around where he enters you again and again. 

You snap, the invisible tether you’ve visualized inside of yourself finally breaking and you let go, practically convulsing on top of Joel with erratic grunts and moans and the lewdest sounds you’ve ever heard yourself make. You bear down on his cock as he rides you through the waves of ecstasy that take over your entire being. 

“Good girl,” he coos over and over, his quiet praises only serving to plunge you further into this blinding hot cavern of bliss that you’ve fallen into. You can feel how his cock slips in and out around the way you’re creaming over his length, and you finally quiet into his chest, a spent mess. 

Joel stops moving for a moment, giving you time to catch your breath as he strokes the back of your head. You nearly want to purr with the contentment you feel as he lightly drags his fingers across your head.

“Your turn,” you finally say, a wry smile pulling at your lips. You pick yourself up a bit, wiggling your hips on him and hissing a little at the oversensitivity of your shot nerves. 

“My turn,” Joel echoes, a devious little twinkle in his eye is all you see before he sits up, pulling you close and kissing you as he ruts his hips into yours a few times. He quickly pulls out of you, handling your body roughly but smoothly as he turns you, pushing you down, knees on the cushions and chest pressing against the back of the couch. He crowds behind you, spreading your knees for you and you can feel his wet cock slap against your ass as he positions you and then himself. 

Joel’s cock forces its way between your legs again, immediately sliding into your wet heat. You bristle a little under the full size of him again, determined to take it like the good girl you say you are and let him spill every drop of cum he has inside of you. You realize you’ve said some version of that out loud in your mental fog when Joel chuckles a low, devious little noise and slams into you hard. 

“Yeah? Want all my cum, want to have me fuckin’ my cum into you, fillin’ you up?” Joel asks and you nod dazedly in reply. He plants a firm hand on your back, sinking you into the back of the couch while he pounds into you, chasing after his pleasure, using you to get himself off. You’ve never been more turned on, and you feel the creeping need of desire filling low in your belly again. 

Joel’s free hand starts to smack your ass relentlessly, as if to spur you on while you bounce your hips back into his movements. 

“Yeah, pretty girl, so good, takin’ this cock like a good girl,” he chants, erratic movements of his hips telling you how close he is. 

“Fuck, fuck, so tight…” he bellows out, “Gonna come inside you, baby.” One more thrust and he’s done for, his hips sputtering and stopping deep inside of you as he unleashes while your cunt flutters, your body reacting in pure effervescent joy to feel his spend coating you again. Joel wraps his arms around your chest, yanking you to fall back with him so that you’re laying side by side, tangled in each other's arms. You both breathe heavily, sweat and stickiness intermingling as you lay so close. 

“We missed our dinner reservation,” Joel says after a few moments of silence stating the very obvious. “We could order some takeout, how’s that sound?”

You listen to the beat of his heart where your head rests on his chest, steady and strong as it still comes down from his climax. You hum a little approving noise, nodding your head. 

“Yeah, that sounds good,” you tell him, barely able to care much about anything else right now. You think in this completely fucked out, limp state you’d let him feed you practically anything, spooning each bite into your mouth like you’re a helpless child. The thought makes you shudder a bit, a feeling of fear creeping over you that someone could have such an effect on you as to change you like that, to pull this side of you out that you’d buried deep inside. 

“Don’t wanna move, though,” you whine, snuggling down onto his chest. 

“I know, I know,” Joel says soothingly with a hand running down your hair. “Gonna have to eat to keep up with what I’m gonna do to ya next, though.”

You lift an intrigued brow and glance up at his face to find him already giving you an amused expression. “I’ll order us some food, why don’t you put on your pretty dress again and we’ll pretend we got our date, how about that?” he says.

You bite your lip in an effort not to smile too widely, and you give him another nod of agreement, finally sitting up and then clambering off the couch and stretching. Joel’s eyes roam your still bare body, unable to believe he could be ready for another round this quickly when his cock twitches at the sight. You throw on your dress and adjust it, smoothing the sides of your hair. 

“How do I look?” you ask innocently with a twirl, as if he hadn’t just been buried deep inside of you, stealing any semblance of reality from your very being. 

“Perfect,” he says with a chuckle. 

Joel orders Chinese food, and the two of you sit at his kitchen table, a candle lit that Joel had dug out from deep within a cabinet sitting between you two at the table. 

While you’re already sure the physical attraction with Joel isn’t wanting for anything, you’re pleasantly surprised to find that you two are connecting on all sorts of topics - from old country music that you listened to growing up to your dream vacation destinations. It seems like you two have more and more in common the longer you talk, or at the least, have an interest in the things the other person is saying. You can’t help but feel like you have a lot to learn from Joel, someone who has life experience, different interests (“old man interests” you tease him), and a whole new perspective on the world. You could listen to him for hours, sitting with your chin in your hand and lashes fluttering as you gaze at his perfect lips speaking about all of these new things. 

“Can I tell you something?” you finally say during a quiet moment, when your plates have long been pushed away, swirling your third glass of wine in your hand. One foot is planted on the dining chair, knee tucked up to your chin where you rest it, lip worrying in between your teeth. 

“Mhm, ‘course,” Joel says casually, sipping from his own glass. 

“When I said I couldn’t find my passion before… I’ve always known what it is, what I want out of life. I just can’t… say it because it sounds, well, silly.”

“Try me,” Joel replies coolly, his eyes flickering with curiosity. 

“I’ve always wanted to be -“ you hesitate, swallowing hard. “The reason someone comes home. The person they come home to. That’s it. That’s all I want. My parents… they never had that. Sure, they came home, but only because there wasn’t anything else to do, nowhere else to go. I never felt it from them. I’ve always wanted to just take care of someone and be that for them…” you confess, trailing off as your cheeks heat with the tipsy confession, slightly embarrassed to reveal it to Joel. 

He considers your words with a small hmm and a cock of his head. “You’re talkin’ about a marriage, yeah? You wanna be a married woman.”

You nod, breathing out a sigh. “Women I know, and my parents, oh god, would probably freak out if that’s what I told them. That I just want to be someone’s wife, make each other happy. Be there for them. It’s something I’ve been too scared to admit until now, because my parents just want me to go to school, get a job, and be successful in the ways they’re successful, but…” you pause to glance at Joel, then back down to the table, tracing your nail along the knots in the wood. “What if I want to be successful in the ways they aren’t?”

Joel’s face contorts slightly, feeling your pain. “You gotta do what you need, sweetheart. Fuck what anyone else says,” he says plainly. “I can relate, y’know. I was married before.”

You snap your gaze up to him, somehow surprised, but realizing maybe you shouldn’t be, that this man is well into his forties now and has lived an entire life before ever laying eyes on you. “Yeah? And…”

“Was all pressure. Wasn’t right. Divorced over ten years ago, so don’t feel too sorry f’me. Her parents had all this pressure on us gettin’ married but I knew she wasn’t the right one for me. Ended up divorcin’ five years later.” He tuts at the memory - the waste of time, the endless arguments, the strain of it all for nothing.

“I’m sor-“ you start, cut off by Joel grabbing your hand across the small table, dwarfing it in his palm.

“Said don’t be sorry for me, yeah? I’m sittin’ here with you now, aren’t I?”

A smile tickles at the corners of your lips and you look down bashfully, letting your fingers curl around his. “Yeah, guess that’s true.”

“Come on over here,” Joel says, patting his lap and setting his wine glass on the table with a small clink. 

You slide out of your chair, padding over and getting into his lap effortlessly. His fingers spread along your back to support you and you curl your legs up, resting against his chest. 

“Y’know marriage is a lot, right? I know you know, you’re a smart girl, can tell you’ve thought about this.”

“I know,” you snip. “It’s not something I’ve ever taken lightly. I just… that’s what I want.” You don’t know how to express to him the yearning deep inside of you, the way you’d watch your parents moving in parallel lives, just happening to share children and a home, and wishing for anything more than that. Praying you’d never meet that same fate, that you’d be so sickly, passionately in love with your future spouse that the entire world could know from a single glance. That you’d give your life to make sure they were well taken care of, and they’d do the same for you.

“Sweet girl,” Joel says quietly, nuzzling his nose against the top of your head. “I know you’ll get what you’re lookin’ for. Anyone’d be lucky to have you.”

Your skin heats at his close contact and adoring words, your stomach twisting a little with the anticipation that it could be him - could Joel be the one lucky to have you, as he said?

“W-would you?” you stutter out, licking your suddenly desert dry lips. “Have me?”

“Honey, I’d have you a hundred different ways and never tire of it. Such a sweet, smart, special little thing you are.”

Your lips purse into a smile, fighting the urge to giddily giggle right in his lap. You tilt your head up to kiss him, a motion he gladly returns as he deepens it for a few moments, tasting remnants of the wine on each other's tongues. 

“That what you want? Want me to have ya?” he asks quietly, the question carrying more weight in your mind than maybe he’d meant. 

“Yes,” you say, a whisper into the quiet air of his house.

“Stay w’me then, this weekend. Don’t wanna let you out of my sight.”

You nod, nearly imperceptible as your mouths meet again, passion driving the kisses now as you squirm in his lap, desire igniting every cell of your body. Joel chuckles against your already puffy lips and shakes his head. 

“Gonna ruin me, you know that?”

Three months later, Joel proposes to you in a park you frequently walk in together, a perfectly sunny and breezy spring day with the smell of fresh blooms surrounding you. You have on a pink dress, matching the explosion of color around you in the budding and blossoming trees and bushes. Joel wraps a hand around yours before getting down on one knee and revealing a solitaire diamond in a black velvet box, promising you all of the things you’d revealed to him in private months before. Someone to come home to. Someone who will come home to you. Succeed together in all the ways you’ve always wanted. Cherish you. And most importantly, love you for who you are.