Tumgik
#Smudging lesson
conjuremanj · 9 months
Text
SAGE & PALO SANTO & How To Use It Correctly In Your Practice.
Tumblr media
Before you add either Palo Santo or Sage into your spiritual pratice you should understanding the true purpose of each one.
Both sage and palo santo are similar in some ways, they both are use to cleanse the energy in you home or space and to bring about a more positive and peaceful environment.
Sage: Comes from the leaves of a sage plant and give a plant-like smell when it is burned. Sage is a good way to clean you and your space of everything. "The downside to this is, despite clearing bad energies and spirits it also removes the positive energy you want to keep".
Now you can bring that positivity back through music, dancing, meditation etc.
Palo Santo: Is taking from the Bursera Graveolens tree and the name means “Holy Wood”. "It's also helps bring back the positivity into your space where as sage removes the negativity".
"Think of it like this "Sage Clears out the bad and Palo Santo BRINGS back the good".
HOW TO BURN: Before you start burning I would suggest start with opening all doors, windows and drawers in your space to release all negative energy from the home, This step is important because you can trap the negativity in the home.
Intentions For The Ceremony: Do not skip this! (See my post on intentions). Now sometimes intentions aren't enough when doing a cleanseing or working. So I want you to get some rest, meditate or pray, something to get you in a clear head space where you won't think of anything else but that working or in this case the cleansing.
For Sage- If your bundle has any ribbon on it remove it but leave the string on that holds the sage together.
Some Indigenous people, practices or religions that do smudging ceremonies do not believe in using lighters they believe it kills the effect. I suggest using a match.
After you let it burn for about 10- 20 seconds and then carefully blow it out. (Don't need the embers getting on anything and start a fire) Note- If you have a small space burn little in a burning dish, if you have a large house burn more or have heavy energies burn a good bit...
While the smoke is still going, you walk around the space from corner to corner letting the smoke hit all walls and corners, drawers everything in that space.
Say a prayer like Psalms 91. To clean and protect your space. Once your space you can shut everything you are left open. Now you have a refreshed and new safe space.
When you are done, put it out.
For Palo Santo- Light your Palo Santo for 20-30 seconds and then blow out. Let the smoke circulate for 1-2 minutes to clear your space of negative energy. When your done put it out.
Last bit of advance you can use both herbs if you like.
When I need to rid a clients home or person of negative energy I use Frankincense and Myrrh maybe with some sage and a with prayer. Because it helps with manifesting the Holy Spirit when use with prayer". Then I use palo to replenish all the good positive vibes and energies.
10 notes · View notes
heywriters · 2 months
Text
One of the hardest things for me to learn and practice in my writing is that people do not say that much.
My character dialogue frequently feels contrived. They open up to partners too quickly, maintain perfect communication with friends, and hold back exactly the right info from enemies. Yet, irl, I've observed and contributed to much miscommunication, lost opportunities, and unconscious distrust of friendly motivations. Natural speech is not tailored, and appropriately expressing abstract thoughts takes skill.
We've heard film media fans deride "therapy talk" wherein characters uncharacteristically and eloquently divulge their inner struggles to others and receive perfect, textbook advice in response. This feels inauthentic because most humans don't talk like that! We skirt around our problems, we feel uncomfortable when others vent, we want to avoid conflict and rejection, and our well-meant words often do more harm than good.
People also tend to talk a lot, but say little. As writers, we generally don't want our stories stuffed with useless conversations, banter, and small-talk that don't advance the plot—we want that story grown up and moved out! But please, include those things. Have scenes where friends hide thoughts from friends by joking around or discussing hobbies instead, where a rival saves the MC's thoughtless speech for later, where a happy couple argues over a minor miscommunication. These aspects can add depth to a story that feels manufactured, or life to characters that sound scripted.
If this is you, take your time; natural dialogue takes a while to finesse. Currently, I write the meaning behind the dialogue first then smudge it up in redrafts. As with all the lessons I've learned/shared, each piece of writing advice should come with a "Daily Value" label affixed, lol. Balance is needed and adjustments should be made until you have the story you want.
---
+ If you appreciate this advice, consider visiting my ko-fi and Buy Me A Coffee! Thank you for reading 🤗
+ Check me out on AO3, Pinterest, and Unsplash
4K notes · View notes
preqwells · 8 days
Text
i've always seen blurbs about mechanic simon, but what about mechanic könig?
you had been needing your oil changed for a while-- fuck, the engine light had been on for months, too. you initially brushed it off since the previous mechanic you had been to simply wrote it off as an electrical issue and like a fool, you didn't press the matter. you weren't knowledgeable in cars and made the mistake of not doing further research to figure out what it was. life went on until eventually, you heard something snap as you drove, the sound of metal scraping along the road. your car began overheating and you freaked out, immediately pulling over without hesitation since you were practically convinced your car was about to blow up. you called a towing company and had it escorted to a nearby mechanic-- that's how you ended up at könig's shop; it helped he had his name tag pinned so nicely to his blue collared shirt.
you had never seen a man of his stature-- to say he towered over you would be an understatement. his muscles pulled taut with each movement he made to check your car, the sweltering heat causing his shirt to cling to his chest and other areas that hugged him so nicely. smudges of black oil were evident on his forearms and the pulse of his neck-- a sight for sore eyes. your eyes watched with rapt attention, curious about the hood he wore before his head snapped up from underneath your car to meet your gaze. you quickly looked away, the heat rushing to your cheeks-- why were you acting like some schoolgirl?
"your serpentine belt snapped." the man spoke plainly, his voice raspy and accent thick. german, your brain helpfully supplied. or austrian? hell, you weren't too sure about europe's geography. you blinked a few times, a sheepish chuckle escaping you.
"huh?"
"your... serpentine belt." he repeated slowly before realizing you had no idea what the fuck a serpentine belt did. "it regulates your air conditioning and keeps your car from overheating." he said as you slowly nodded, your lips forming a small 'o' shape to conceal your embarrassment. he was used to being blunt to simply get customers rolling in and out of his shop quickly, but he had to admit-- you were a cute little thing. your admiration for his figure wasn't a mystery to him, he wasn't dull. as the two of you continued talking, he wanted your attention more than he'd like to admit-- fuck, he borderline craved it. he obliged in your request for an oil change-- it was his job, after all. however, he needed a sure way you'd come back. he could tell you didn't know much about cars, so he offered to teach you more about it.
you wouldn't mind staying after hours for some lessons at your leisure, right?
855 notes · View notes
antihumanism · 2 years
Text
hate, hate, hate the “mirror test” so much, all it is is some guy in a lab coat pokes you in the forehead and then they lead you into a room where there’s this window and some bitch on the other side of the mirror has a smudge on her face and when you point and laugh at her she points and laughs at you, but she’s the idiot with a smudge so why’s she laughing but if you yell at her she just yells back and everything keeps escalating until they drag you back out of the room, and then they ask you all these stupid questions like “did you notice anything about the person you saw” or whatever, like, yeah, i fucking hate, hate, hate her so, so, so much, i noticed that, why do they keep doing this, and then they scribble a bunch more shit in that file, it is literally the most pointless part of the week, and the worst part is they always force this conflict too, like, obvious lesson learned here, don’t interact, don’t speak, keep your head down, but if you just avoid looking through the window the test never ends and they keep waiting and watching and wanting to judge the results even though it is so, so, so tiresome and irritating every time, i don’t like her, i hate her, i don’t want to see her ever again
17K notes · View notes
feral4daryl · 7 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
reflection.
daryl dixon x fem!reader
warnings: nsfw, pwp (porn without plot/plot what plot), rough sex, hair pulling, swearing, slight choking, praising, unprotected p-in-v, daddy kink, spanking, creampie
summary: daryl overhears you talking down on yourself in front a mirror and decides to teach you a lesson.
wc: 764
Tumblr media
daryl grabs a fistful of your hair, tugging your face upwards until your eyes lock onto the reflection of both of you in the mirror. your hair is all messy and disheveled, your makeup all smudged, and dizziness clouds your vision. your mind strains to grasp simple things, such as daryl's gruff voice near your ear, as he instructs: "now, say it." you instantly becomes flustered, unconsciously attempting to hide your face in embarrasement but being stopped by daryl wrapping his arm around your neck, keeping your head still and forcing you to stare at yourself in the mirror.
you open your mouth as if you aim to say something, but nothing comes out of it. the intense pleasure and pain from the relentless pouding of daryl's hips against your own is everything you're able to acknowledge right now, while you literally drool onto his arm. daryl can't hide a smirk, proud to be the one making you so obviously cock-drunk. even so, he insists, his voice a low whisper: "ya betta say it before i make ya regret disobeying me."
a shiver runs down your spine. then, you force your brain to think. you'd never forgive yourself if you disappointed him and you know damn well how you got yourself into this situation. early on today, daryl had overheard you talking down on yourself and your looks in front of this same mirror he's rearranging your guts right now, and he could never let something like that slide. you knew exactly what you had to say.
"-m pwetty..." you mumble, almost inaudible, your eyes threatening to close. you feel daryl lean in, his warm breath against your ear.
"nuh-uh. look at yerself, look how pretty ya look takin' ma cock. c'mon, sunshine, let daddy hear ya." he demands, leaving no room for backtalk. you shudder under his touch, not daring to defy him:
"i-i'm pretty..." you repeat a little more clearer this time, making sure to be staring at yourself in the mirror as you say it. your face gets all red and you trap your bottom lip between your teeth, the slight pressure of daryl's arm around your neck making your head even more empty.
"good fuckin' girl." he praises, placing a gentle kiss to the side of your head before fastening his thrusts, his hips stuttering a little. he finally lets go of your hair to land a harsh smack to your ass, making you gasp in surprise. he firmly grasps your ass, his fingernails digging into your skin as he starts kissing and licking your neck. he's getting extra touchy now, which always means that he's on the edge of cumming. he lands another sharp slap to your ass before moving his hand to grab your waist forcefully, extracting pathetic squeaky sounds from you.
his breathing becomes labored and heavy and he guides a hand to your clit, rubbing tight, fast circles on it, aiming to initiate your own orgasm. he doesn't fail as you feel that familiar knot forming in your lower belly. your legs start to shake and you struggle to keep yourself on your feet. almost as the same time as your high hits you, daryl lets out a guttural moan before your tight velvety walls send him over the edge, making him shoot his load deep inside you. he stops his thrusting, now he sort of humps your insides while he releases spurt after spurt of thick cum inside your cunt.
you both stay in that position for a while, trying to catch your breaths. daryl chuckles a little, causing you to smile alongside him. he places a few kisses to your shoulders before removing his cock from you, leaving you with an empty sensation. he observes as his abundant cum oozes out of your hole, dripping down your legs. then, he lifts his head, eyeing your reflexion on the mirror and resting his chin on your shoulder:
"nobody ever has to right to talk down on ya, princess. not even yerself. so next time ya try to ignore how pretty ya actually are, ya betta be sure 'm not 'round to hear." despite his gruffy tone, you can't help but melt in his arms, his unconditional love almost palpable. you close your eyes for a moment, but you're able to feel his face contorting into a smile. "i love ya, sunshine."
Tumblr media
a/n: this is my first time ever attempting to write anything longer than one paragraph lol (and it still came out so short) so lmk if this sucks ass. btw english is not my first language so there might be a little misspelling or weird phrasing here and there lol
2K notes · View notes
Happy holidays! By any chance, could I ask for a HC where MC gets into an accidental baby acquisition trope and has to babysit with Azul, Sebek, Malleus, and Riddle?
Azul Ashengrotto:
Azul is about to write a ransom note if this person expects to get their baby back. He’s drawing up the terms of the contract as you’re coddling the baby, knowing there wasn’t a point in trying to talk him out of it as he was already infuriated that he’d had this responsibility dumped on him randomly. He doesn’t get how you can just accept this injustice and you rolled your eyes at him, telling him most people didn’t spend an hour negotiating a deal before performing a task. He still doesn’t want much to do with the baby but unfortunately for him the baby is endlessly fascinated with him; they constantly reach out to grab at his glasses or his hair, and he’s quickly scribbling additions onto the bill in regards to smudges and emotional distress.
He does eventually hold them when you have to retrieve something (the other alternative being they took off into the lounge if he just left them on the ground which he knew would piss you off, and he especially didn’t feel like dealing with that) but he claimed he didn’t enjoy the time. The baby continued to poke and prod at him, with Azul returning the gesture and poking at the baby’s cheeks which only sent them into a fit of giggles. It almost got a smile out of him but he couldn’t take the hit to his pride, huffing and hastily handing the baby back over when you returned.
Malleus Draconia:
Please keep an eye on that baby. Malleus’ only interaction with human babies had been with Silver when he was just a little ball of chub, and with Lilia being his father… Silver was lucky to have survived his childhood but he had always been special. This baby was not Silver however, and while Malleus would never purposely put them in harms way you can see he doesn’t have the same gentleness another human might have with a fragile little baby. He doesn’t mind when you correct him on the proper way to hold them and listened intently as you explained some of the actions to avoid, like pulling at their little limbs or allowing anything to hit their head. He thinks this is an interesting learning experience though he’s not quite sure what he might need to know about taking care of a human baby, but it also made him happy because it meant you were spending time together.
The baby looked up at Malleus with wide eyes at first, having never seen a fae with long horns or a man quite as striking as Malleus Draconia. They quieted down whenever Malleus spoke to them, seeming to like the sound of his voice and babbling back when he stopped talking. Once they were more comfortable with him they couldn’t help but reach up to touch his horns which you carefully monitored, watching as they felt the new texture and making sure they didn’t yank at them (or his hair) too harshly. Malleus commended their curiosity and lack of fear, thinking it was quite refreshing.
Riddle Rosehearts:
You might assume Riddle would try to collar a baby who was crying incessantly or who wouldn’t listen, but he was surprisingly patient. He took offense to that observation as of course you couldn’t force a baby to follow rules, but you could try and that would matter more than anything. He thinks it’s good to introduce kids to rules as early as possible so they can start getting them into their little heads even if they can’t memorize them quite yet; maybe in the future these early lessons would prove fruitful. He’s patient but it doesn’t mean he won’t get frustrated, able to pull all kinds of knowledge out about babies but not knowing how to truly connect with them.
The baby does stop crying each time Riddle began to talk about the rules, and he even pulled out a book to read through to keep them distracted. He thought this was a good activity because it gave them both something to do, and the little one did seem invested in what he was saying even if they didn’t truly understand. He had never been read to like this when he was young and it sent a pang through his heart, wondering if things might have been different if he had a little more wonder in his young life. Either way, he was no longer the baby in this situation and all he could do was hope they were enjoying their time with him while it lasted.
Sebek Zigvolt:
You think there might be a competition going on about who can be louder. Neither one of them even seem to be shouting but the baby responded with the same tone as Sebek, and his speaking voice just had a natural boom to it. While he had wanted to run at first you had begged him to help you, and while that hadn’t done much the baby’s fascination with Sebek’s portrait of Malleus had. You think the interaction is the funniest thing in the world especially when Sebek tried to indoctrinate the baby into the Malleus Draconia club, holding the portrait in his arms while tears gathered in his eyes.
The way he lit up when he talked about Malleus was cute and the baby clapped in response to his rambling, urging him to continue. Sebek wondered if he repeated Malleus’ name enough if the baby might say it. You stated the parents might not appreciate it but Sebek said it was their own fault as they were the ones who suddenly left him with the baby; either way, they should be honored if Malleus’ name was the first word they uttered. The baby has not a single clue what’s going on but thinks the two of you going back and forth is hilarious, collapsing into fits of giggles each time Sebek made a new face at you trying to reign in his Malleus obsession.
537 notes · View notes
moonchildstyles · 27 days
Note
would Élan!Harry ever get jealous with (Y/N)? Seeing as to how they don't make their relationship public (yet!), people would still definitely hit on her, so how would he deal with that?
wordcount: 4.2k+
—————
"One more?" 
Harry's lips grew into a lopsided smile at (Y/N)'s request. It would never lose its shine, would it? 
"One more, but I don't want to be the one in trouble for your lipstick this time," he conditioned with a raised brow. 
"Okay, fine," (Y/N) answered right away, waving his terms off with a fluttering hand, "Just one more before we have to go inside." 
Pressing his lips to her own perfectly painted pair, Harry was determined to keep it light and fleeting, knowing that there were cameras lurking just up ahead. It wouldn't be a good look for either of them to emerge from the back of this SUV with (Y/N)'s lipstick smeared and the remnants on Harry's own mouth. 
Of course, his determination hinged on just how well behaved (Y/N) was going to be. Which, as he'd learned through the course of their tabloid facade, wasn't something that happened often. It was her that deepened the kiss with a tip of her head, fitting his bottom lip between her two. 
How was he supposed to say no to that?
She knew he'd given in as soon as he felt the faint curl of her lips against his, a smug victory smile. 
Though, her victory didn't last much longer than that. 
The ever patient—and discreet—man he was, Sully knocked on the partition as a warning that they were quickly approaching the venue of the night's party. It was Harry who had to have the power to pull away first, leaving (Y/N) with a puffed pout and only slightly smudged lipstick. He didn't even want to think about how much of the red was now painted over his own mouth. 
"Don’t give me that look," he told her, swiping a thumb over a smudge just under her bottom lip. 
His command only garnered him a set of narrowed eyes to go along with her pout. "I don't even want to be here tonight, why can't we go home?" 
"Because," he said, canting his head as she did the same, "Y'told Francesca you'd be here tonight, and I know y'wouldn't leave her by herself." 
"She'll make friends," she huffed, though Harry knew he'd won her over as soon as she turned away in search of the compact in her purse. 
"It's gonna be alright, darling," he told her, slinging an arm around her shoulders as she clicked open her mirrors and touched up her lipstick, "We'll go home early if y'really want." 
"I do really want," she petulantly mumbled, cleaning up the slight smudging outside of the line of her mouth. "H, you messed up my lipstick." 
That was enough to have him throwing his head back with a laugh.
By the time Sully had pulled up to the entrance of the high-rise the party was taking place at, (Y/N) had primed her appearance and put on her socialite facade. Harry had sat at her side, being her anchor as she centered herself and let the side of her personality that loved cameras and attention take over. 
"Ready?" he'd murmured once they pulled up to the entrance of the building.
She chirped out and Mh-hm a small smile on her lips. "Ready to be my bodyguard?"
"If y'can behave," he countered, sliding his arm off of her shoulders once he saw the first flashes of the camera aimed at the SUV. 
"We'll see," she smiled just before sliding down the leather seats and pushing the door open. 
Harry had no choice but to follow after her, shaking his head just before stepping out into the flashing lights with her. Schooling his features, he slipped on his own facade. Despite what the tabloids wrote and the blurry photos supposedly circulating online, when they stepped in public, Harry was her bodyguard. Especially when it comes to parties like this.
He'd be her lover later, he had to make sure she was safe first. 
The entrance wasn't packed with photographers, but there were still enough people for Harry to hover just behind her. He'd learned his lesson well while in Paris that summer—it didn't matter just how few paparazzi were following her, it only took one to push the limits. 
She kept her head down when the few waiting outside the event started talking to her, speaking over one another with calls of her name. None of them acted particularly invasive, speaking rudely to her or invading her space, especially seeing as there wasn't anything particularly scandalous circulating about her at the moment. Nonetheless, while (Y/N) politely smiled and kept her space, Harry was the intimidating presence behind her that reminded others just how important it was for them to keep their distance. 
Following as her quiet shadow, Harry kept his hands to himself as they were escorted to the penthouse floor for the party. If not for the attendant in the lift, he may have attempted to get one more touch of her skin against his, though he instead settled for a sidelong glance that had her lips tipping into a small smile. 
When the doors opened directly to the penthouse space, Harry tipped his head, gesturing for (Y/N) to go first. She thanked the attendant with a quiet thank you before she stepped into the fluttering party.
It was a decidedly more low-key event compared to the many that (Y/N) frequented, most of the attendants having spilled out towards the open air patio. The rest of the space was full of modern, minimalist decor. Walls were made of glass panelling, everything coming in different shades of cream and nude, manicured greenery being placed throughout the space in an attempt to make it look more lived in than it most likely was. Staff traipsed through the space with trays of hors d'oeuvres and flutes of bubbly alcohol. 
"Do you see Fran anywhere?" (Y/N) murmured, her fingers joining into a fumbling bundle at her middle. 
Continuing his scan over the crowd, Harry stuffed his own hands into his pockets to keep from plucking (Y/N)'s up in an attempt to soothe her. "Not yet. Do y'know if she's here yet?" 
"I don't know, she hasn't texted me since before we left." At that, (Y/N) pulled out her phone, most likely pulling up Francesca's shared location. Her expression fell at whatever she saw on her screen. "She hasn't even left her apartment yet." 
"That's alright," he told her, keeping his voice low, "She'll be here soon. Do y'want a drink?" 
Just as she opened her mouth to give an answer, (Y/N) was interrupted by a voice Harry didn’t recognize. Though plenty of strangers approached her while they were out and about, especially at events such as this, it still put him on edge. Peering around the perfect style of (Y/N)'s hair, he found a man with dark hair and grown in facial hair approaching her. He was inches shorter than Harry, but with the way the group he'd drifted away from admired him, he could have been seven feet tall. 
"Hi," (Y/N) politely answered. Harry didn't have to see her expression to be able to picture the neutral set to her mouth and the practiced light in her eyes. 
"Sorry," the man said, voice accented with lilting vowels and an undulating melody. His eyes never  strayed from (Y/N). "I don't mean to interrupt, I was just hoping I'd run into you while I was in the city. I'm Luca." 
"Oh, no worries," she answered, just as perfectly pleasant as always, "Nice to meet you." 
Harry watched on as she reached out a manicured hand for him to shake, only for Luca to bring her hand to his lips and press a kiss to her knuckle. 
His hands in his pockets clenched. 
This was the downside to keeping their relationship on the down low—everyone loved to assume she was available for the taking. 
"Nice to meet you as well," Luca drawled, looking at (Y/N) through a fan of dark lashes. It was with a sudden glance in his direction that Luca seemed to realize she hadn't been standing off by herself. "Excuse me, I didn't mean to be rude. I'm Luca." 
With a clenched jaw, Harry offered his own greeting, reciprocating Luca's outstretched hand for no other reason than to ensure he wouldn't let it wander back towards (Y/N). 
"Nice to meet you," Harry said, voice a bit stifled as he assessed the man before him. 
"Are you—uh—a friend of (Y/N)'s?" Luca asked, taking a step back with his hand giving a slight flex before settling it into his pocket. The action had Harry's lips quirking into a small smile; it was entirely intentional just how tight his handshake was, but he would never admit that. 
"I'm her bodyguard." 
It was always with that statement that Harry had assessing eyes tracing over his form, taking stock of who he was as if his merits for his profession were painted on his clothing or tattooed on his arms. 
"I bet she keeps you busy then, this one," Luca attempted to tease as if he knew anything at all about he or (Y/N).
Before Harry could manage to snip out his own reply, (Y/N) took over. "Luca, have we met before? Sorry, if I've forgotten—I have the worst memory," she laughed, "You look familiar." 
That seemed to be just the question Luca had been waiting for, a dazzling smile settling on his features. "Ah, well," he started, suddenly—deceptively—bashful with his eyes dropping to his feet, "I am an F1 driver—for Ferrari, actually. You may have seen one of my races." 
Harry had to make a point to keep from rolling his eyes. 
"Oh wow," (Y/N) bubbled, perfect persona in place, "That's really cool! I have a friend who really enjoys that kind of thing, so maybe I've seen you on T.V." 
"Yeah?" he chirped, decidedly more willing to talk about his profession now that (Y/N) may be familiar with him, "I was just in Las Vegas for a race a couple of weeks ago. Have you ever been before?" 
Harry had to tune him out then, instead opting to look for Francesca through the new faces that had entered since being huddled in the corner with Luca The F1 Driver. Slipping into bodyguard mode, he only heard the polite mumblings of the conversation at his side, attempting to provide (Y/N) with as much privacy he could manage. 
"Right, H?" (Y/N) asked, suddenly pulling him back into the moment from where he'd zoned out pretending to look for Francesca. 
"Hm?" he hummed, blinking back into reality to find (Y/N) looking at him with Luca seemingly unimpressed with his inclusion. The thought had a lopsided smile touching at the corner of his lips. 
"We're going to be in Milan next month, right?" 
"Yes, from the ninth to the seventeenth. Why?" His question was aimed at Luca, forcing him to pay attention to him.
His smile looked especially pasted on this time when he matched Harry's attention. "I was just telling (Y/N) that I'll be racing again in Monza next month. Perhaps, you can catch the race while you're out there?" 
"Maybe," (Y/N) answered noncommittally, "I'd have to check in and see what we have planned, and Harry usually has to—" 
"No need to worry about that," Luca interjected, "I have a box you could spend the time in—I doubt you'll need any security up there." 
A tick appeared in Harry's jaw, hinging it tighter. To be fair, it wasn't the most blatant attempt to get him out of the way he'd ever heard before, but it was certainly an attempt. 
It was (Y/N) that had shrugged her shoulders, piping up first before Harry had a chance. "Oh, no," she waved Luca off with a polite smile, "Harry would be coming with me anyway."
At that, Harry could spot a small crack forming in Luca's facade. (Y/N) wasn't quite playing into whatever he had been hoping for when he meandered over to her. 
"You just let me know, then," Luca settled on, features schooled into perfection though he did stray a glance towards Harry. "Sorry, I'm being so rude—can I get you a drink, (Y/N)?" 
It took (Y/N) only a split second thought before she was jumping on the opportunity. "Yes, please, actually! Anything sweet works for me." 
When (Y/N) made a move to pull out her phone, her own quiet way of dismissing Luca to the bar, Harry had to keep his features from showing his amusement. She had casually turned to face Harry, giving her back to the bar Luca had disappeared to.
With her eyes still low, she murmured, "Is he far enough away?" 
"Mhm." 
Looking up at him with wide eyes, she whispered, "Oh my god, is he being annoying or am I just in a bad mood?" 
The exasperation in her tone was enough to have Harry letting out a chime of laughter. "No, he's definitely being annoying. Did y'really recognize him, or were y'jus' saying that?" 
"Kind of," she waved off, whatever app on her phone taking a backseat for the moment, "I half-watched a race one time with Toriana but that's it. I just wanted him to stop talking to you."
"Of course, Fran had to be late today, right?" Harry joked, sharing a small smile with her before noticing Luca on his way back with bubbling drinks in hand.
"Seriously," (Y/N) sighed before spinning on her heel to face Luca once more. "Thank you so much!" 
Now knowing how (Y/N) truly felt about her companion, Harry had to make a point to keep his amusement from touching his face when listening to the way she forced herself to pep up for him. It was interesting to him now, just how different it had been in the beginning, how difficult it had been for him to spot those differences in her personas—the split between who she truly was and who she hid behind. Now, all he needed to hear was the inflection of her voice, the arch of her spine, the gesticulating of her hands, and he could tell just where her comfort was sitting.
Luca's voice became a mumbling of monotone syllables to him, nothing to pay attention to as Harry observed the party and the patrons. He kept an ear out for (Y/N), ensuring she wasn't in need of him, though he had to make a point to keep from laughing at the sound of her faux-giggles between sips of sugary alcohol.  
Though he wasn't a fan of hearing others hit on his girlfriend, it was rather funny to hear just how clueless they were to her disinterest when it was so clear to his own ears. 
Of course, until Luca put his hands on her. 
It was slow, the way he'd grown closer to her after noticing Harry had averted his attention some. He took small steps, shifting his weight and leaning in as if he couldn't hear her over the low music playing. Once he deemed himself close enough, Harry saw, out of the corner of his eye, his hand landing on the small of her back, sliding around to settle on the curve of her waist as if he wasn't clearly flinching away. 
A too loud laugh filtered from her mouth then, enough to have Harry's attention sharpening and pinning on the interaction. 
As casually as possible, (Y/N) attempted to step out of Luca's grip. Though it didn't appear that he caught the hint with the way he shifted towards her once more, closing the gap she'd opened. 
There was a moment, with the sight of his hand on her waist, fingertips dipping into the folds of her dress as they curled to the line of her body, that Harry wondered just how many grainy videos and opinionated essays would be posted if he stepped in and pushed Luca away. 
 He'd bet it would be more than either he or (Y/N) would care to see. 
It was when (Y/N) looked at him over her shoulder, a fleeting glance, one that could have easily been mistaken for a flip of her hair, that Harry stepped in. He wrapped an arm around her shoulder, greedily pulling her away from Luca's grip. 
"Francesca's here," he murmured, voice just loud enough for Luca to clue into the fact that his time with (Y/N) was over.
Spinning to face him, (Y/N) looked to him with relief in her eyes. "Really?" she bubbled, glancing back at Luca for a moment though she was already heading into Harry's arms, "It was nice talking to you, Luca!" 
Harry almost wanted to gloat when he saw how Luca stuttered over himself, absently reaching out as (Y/N) slipped through his fingers. 
"Oh—Um—Let me know about Monza, yeah? I'd love to see you again before I leave the city, maybe tom—" 
"I'm really busy this week, but maybe! I'll see about Monza and have Harry reach out!" 
It was with that final remark, that (Y/N) began leading the charge away from Luca and the corner he'd huddled her into. Harry followed after her, shifting his arm until he had his palm on her bicep.
"Thank god," (Y/N) sighed once they were far enough away, "Did you hear him?" 
"I tried not to," Harry murmured, guiding her through the throngs of people, slowing when unfamiliar faces said greetings in passing, "What did he say?" 
(Y/N) shook her head. "I know more about his racing stats than I think I know about myself." 
Typical, Harry figured. Of course, once the veil was lifted, would Luca leave the shy act behind to boast about his job in hopes of impressing (Y/N).
"'M not surprised," he said, just before (Y/N) changed their course.
Instead of following the line of the bar and those gathered in the living area, she turned them towards a hallway branching off the main room. It was decidedly quieter than where the party was. 
"Do you think there's a bathroom down here?" (Y/N) muttered, scanning her eyes down the few doors lining the hall, "I want to hide for a second."
It was (Y/N)'s request—that she wanted to hide away after speaking to Luca—that had him trying his hand at his own exploration. Even if he didn't hide a restroom, he would find somewhere quiet for his girl to decompress. 
On a whim, he reached towards the handle of a passing door. Pushing it open, a pristine bathroom sat inside. Convenient. 
Gently pulling her over the threshold first, Harry made a point to take a look around, intending to catch if anyone had wandering eyes that had landed on them. Though he couldn't be sure no one had caught them stealing away together, at least no one was watching as they went into the bathroom together. 
Setting her drink on the counter, (Y/N) sat on the edge of an elaborate tub with a heaving sigh. Her shoulders settled down, sloping downwards as she looked up at the ceiling for a second. 
"I don't know if I've been that annoyed since Paris," she muttered, rolling her neck. 
A small smile settled on Harry's lips then. Leaning against the marbled countertop, he crossed his arms over his chest as he gazed at her. "Maybe we should've stayed home, hm?" 
"I told you so," she countered, looking to him with amusement in her eyes. "How much do you wanna bet that Fran hasn't even left the house yet?" 
He watched as she pulled out her phone from her purse, checking through whatever tabs she had open before he unfurled from where he was leaning against the counter. Crossing the pristine tiles under his feet, he crouched in front of where (Y/N) was huddled on the edge of the tub. 
Placing a hand carefully on the bone of her ankle, he whispered to her despite already being alone in the space. "Y'alright?" 
"Yeah," she sighed, slowing her tapping on her phone before she dropped her phone to rest on her lap, "He was just annoying—he wasn't, like... scaring me or anything." 
"Good, good," he murmured, stroking his thumb over the curve of her leg. 
"Are you okay?" she prodded, settling her hand on his cheek. 
Leaning into her touch without a second thought, he shuttered his eyes in a lingering blink. "'M okay. I don't know why, but it was hard to watch him—or listen to him." 
She tossed him a shrewd glance. "Yeah? You didn't like watching him ask me out?" 
He shook his head, cheeks stretching around his growing grin. "I didn't, actually. It actually made me a little angry. I wanted to punch him when he touched you." 
"Really?!" she bubbled, a plume of laughter falling from her lips, "I didn't think you could get jealous! You're always so calm!" 
"Was I jealous?" he prodded, tugging on her leg in a teasing pull, "Is that what happened?" 
"It sounds like it! You wanted to hit him?" she asked again, leaning towards him with a conspiratorial gleam to her eyes. 
"Maybe," he mused, "If he'd done anything to upset you, I might have. He was already annoying enough." 
There had to have been something in his answer that she enjoyed seeing as she pressed forward and sealed her mouth to his. He smiled into the contact for a moment, dimples in his cheeks before melting into her touch. Slotting his lips to hers, it was (Y/N) that deepened the kiss with a trace of her tongue over the pillows of his lips. 
The sounds of their lips parting and coming together filtered through the bathroom as Harry reached towards her hand on his face, wrapping his fingers around the fine bones of her wrist. It was when he scraped his teeth over the full of her bottom lip, a small nip, that she parted her crossed legs and drew him between her thighs. 
He was hyper aware of the party going on outside the door, and the fact that this was the apartment of someone he'd never met before, but at the same time Harry didn't care. 
If she liked seeing him jealous this much, he wasn't going to stop her. 
At the movement of her legs, her phone was tossed to the floor, landing on a bathmat at her feet. Neither had acknowledged the thump, until it started vibrating with a call. 
(Y/N) reluctantly pulled away with a sigh, resting her forehead on his. "It's Fran, isn't it?" 
"Probably," he muttered, blindly reaching for her phone before handing it off. 
Harry only had to see the way she pulled in a long breath, an affectionate roll of her eyes, before she pressed the device to her ear that told him their suspicions were right. 
"Hello?" she answered, drifting her hand from his cheek to card through her hair. 
Getting only one side of the conversation, Harry had to put the pieces together while watching the expressions that crossed her face. As far as he could tell, Francesca was especially amusing today. 
"Yes, we're here," (Y/N) continued, nodding along to whatever Fran was bubbling about. "Yes, me and Harry... No, she's not here—as far as I've seen anyway... When are you going to get here?.. We'll still be here; we're just in the bathroom right now." She paused just before a peal of laughter rang through the room, her nails grazing over his scalp. (The touch had a certain shiver streaking down his spine). "No! We're hiding from some F1 guy that keeps inviting us to some race next month... If you want, you can go instead. I don't know if he has a yacht, but I'm sure you could convince him." 
Gazing up at her from where he sat before her, Harry felt his own lips curving into a lopsided smile. He loved seeing her stripped down like this; she'd told him more than once that he was one of the only people he was able to vulnerable and herself around, but he'd seen just how young she was around Francesca. He could see glimpses of who she was before he'd met her, the girl who'd been around before cameras were documenting her every move. 
It had his heart rattling against his ribs. 
With his wandering head, Harry hadn't realized she'd ended her call until she hung up the phone and placed both of her hands on his cheeks. 
"Do you know how many times I've wished I could be in your head?" she told him, a small smile to her lips, "I just want to know what you're thinking—you're so hard to read." 
"'S you," he said, sincerity rivaling the lighthearted tone to her voice,"'S always you."
She looked at him with amusement in her eyes, the same way she always did when he said something adoring: as if she didn't believe him, instead waiting for the joke to land. 
He could do nothing other than surge forward and press his lips to hers. He'd always been better at showing than telling her how he felt. 
—————
thank u sm to whoever requested and for everyone who read to this point! so sorry for any mistakes, and please let me know if you have any fun ideas of your own:)
479 notes · View notes
coralinnii · 1 year
Text
Leaving a kiss mark on him…and how long did it take for him to realize  feat: Kalim · Cater · Idia · Rook  genre: fluff note: not gender-specific reader (everyone is allowed to wear lipstick), no pronouns, established relationships,
Me: I have to study, I have mountains of assignments and projects to do! *hides in tumblr to avoid study anxiety* can I just fail my classes and say I tried? T_T
I'm starting to enjoy Rook mostly cuz I can go ham with the romantic words or as Idia would probably call it "cringe worthy crap"
Tumblr media
Until recess, when Jamil points it out
This ball of sunshine is too  giddy in your presence to notice anything. How do you expect him to pay attention to anything when you’re laughing and chatting with him before the start of class. The two of you parted ways with Kalim having a big grin on his face, never realizing you left an obvious imprint on your love on his cheek. 
Kalim would never think that the loud chattering in the hallways were about him, ignorant of the stares of the other students as he waves to them happily. Some whispered how embarrassing it must be if he ever finds out, some muttered what a lucky b*stard he was. 
Said lucky b*stard stayed oblivious even in class as no one felt the need to risk being called out in class by informing the white-haired Housewarden. Trein of course saw the mark on the boy but kept silent over it, deciding to let young love be. 
The kiss mark was finally brought to Kalim’s attention when he met with Jamil in the cafeteria, the vice Housewarden shocked by the image but soon replaced with an exasperated sigh. Jamil pulled out a compact mirror (I’m 110% sure Jamil is the type to carry one) and pointed to the Asim heir’s cheek.
Kalim was ecstatic at what he saw and why wouldn’t he? His beautiful treasure just left a cute reminder on his cheek and just seeing the mark makes him remember your kiss which makes him giddy once more. 
Jamil had to practically fight Kalim to wipe the kiss mark off his face. He can’t let the Asim family find out their oldest son was walking around with such an embarrassing appearance. 
But Jamil isn’t gonna have a break from this as Kalim would just run back to you and ask you to leave your mark on him once more. 
“Come on, do it again! Please~? It doesn’t have to be on my cheek this time!”
Tumblr media
As soon as he check his reflection in his phone
The extrovert he is, Cater is not going to say no to some PDA. His Magicam has been filling up with cute pictures of you two, whether it’d be on your dates or a quick selfie before class. 
For this selfie, you decided to land a smooch on your boyfriend’s cheek as he takes his daily selfie pic. Once Cater was done posting the uber cute memory with you, the two of you split from each other towards your respective classes. 
Despite his itchy hands, Cater knows better than to mess with his phone during lessons. Unlike Kalim however, he definitely picked up the weird looks sent his way and the whispers behind his back. His ability to read the room hints to him that the whispering wasn't of malice intent or anything negative but he knows it pertains to him. 
Once the bell rang, the redhead immediately picked up his phone and caught something in the reflection of the darkened screen. Was there something on his face? 
Opening his camera app, he finally saw the hot topic in the classroom, the cheeky little mark you left on him. 
You would think the easygoing student would laugh over the cute gesture, maybe tease you later on your bold expression of love. You’d be partially right. 
You caught him by surprise. His face will be dusted with a reddish hue as he inspects a mark on his face in addition to his diamond mark. He had to cover the lower half of his face with his hand to hide the goofy smile blooming on his lips. A genuine, not Magicam perfect smile. This is beyond cute, it’s downright adorable in all the best ways with messy lipstick smudges and all. 
But yes, he will absolutely tease you about this little souvenir you left him. He even sent a new selfie on Magicam showing off your handiwork and tagging you right on the mark. He was just lucky Riddle didn’t catch him with your mark on him. 
“Aren’t me and my bae just #couplegoals? Hope you ain’t jelly~” 
Tumblr media
Would have never noticed if not for Ortho 
Idia would never allow PDA, nope never. He isn’t the type of guy that wants to show off his relationship. It’s not that he’s embarrassed by you, of course not! But he’s more of a lowkey guy that rather show his love in the comforts of his or your room. 
Which was why he was happy to receive a loving kiss from you before you leave his room to head to your classes. But Idia was gonna send his tablet off as usual while he laid back in the safety of his room. 
As stated, this man would have gone the whole day without realizing what you did. He gets into the zone once he starts his gaming session. He is also not the type to really check himself in the mirror if he goes to the bathroom, only doing the bare minimum in there and then going right back to his video games. 
It wasn’t until Ortho came by to check up on his brother did he finally take notice of his appearance. 
“Brother, what’s that on your cheek?” 
Confused, Idia reached for his phone and opened the rarely used camera app on his phone (only used for you and cats) and shrieked when he saw your little present clear as day on his pale face. 
How could you do this to him? How could you do something this embarrassing to this weak man?? It was a damn good thing he didn’t leave his room or he could never leave this down. What if someone other than Ortho showed up at his door, like one of his dormmates? 
He quickly commanded his tablet to locate you, bringing you to a secluded place then screaming at you for your sneaky trick. His throat hurting from the amount of talking and yelling he has done, more than he has in a while
But when you asked him if he really didn’t like it, Idia turned quiet real quick. You can’t just corner him with a kill shot question like that. 
Seriously, you’re gonna give him a heart attack.
“It’s not that I don’t like it, you just can’t just do things like that out of the blue! H-huh, you’re asking when can you do it, then?!”
Tumblr media
The moment you did it
You think Rook wouldn’t notice? The man who not only has amazing senses but also the right hand man to Vil who has taught him the skills of makeup application? One look at your lips (and of course, he has looked) and he can tell if the product is smudge-proof or not.
The moment your lips graced his cheek, he could feel the residue of your lipstick left on his sensitive skin. Judging by the smile on your face, he knew you were intentional with your marking and was proud of it. 
What a trickster you are, was this your way of marking your man? Making sure everyone is aware that the vice Housewarden is spoken for? How beautifully devilish of you. 
Before you could escape, Rook captured you in his arms with a coy smile on his face. 
“My dear Trickster, how sneaky of you to try to leave your lovely mark on me. But, I've noticed you weren’t wearing smudge-proof lipstick today. You would have to do better than that~” 
You pouted, hoping you could at least be out of your hunter’s line of sight before he called you out. Leave it to him to notice the most minuscule of things, you suppose.
“You didn’t try to stop me, though?” you questioned suspiciously, your so-called keen boyfriend letting you attack him so easily. 
He simply responded to you with a bright smile on his face, “How could I ever deny my beautiful beloved? For you, I surrender myself to your whims of love for I am but a weak prey ensnared by your beauty” 
You left more kiss marks on this crazy poet of a man 
“To be graced with your lips, a show of loving passion bestowed only to me…I am a helpless fool to my lover”
4K notes · View notes
wlntrsldler · 2 months
Text
poisoned mercury | end up here
a/n: i'm going FERALLLLLLL over this chapter. enjoy poisoned mercury's debut album hehe.
Tumblr media Tumblr media
iv. end up here by 5sos
series masterlist | previous | next
“your band name doesn’t even make any sense,” you argued, eyes narrowing at the boy in front of you. 
luke crashed your secret spot, again, and refused to let you smoke in silence until you gave him a detailed explanation of how your day went. he knew you didn’t smoke every day, only on days that were particularly hard. he noticed that your bad days always had something to do with your dad, but it didn’t feel like the right moment to bring that up. 
anyway, you got fed up with his badgering and that stupid smirk on his face because he knew you were about to crack, and decided that if he was going to act like a toddler, you would too. hence, why you were now bringing up his band name. 
luke took offense to that because he thought the band name was cool. he was the one to suggest it. he crossed his arms over his chest, trying not to let his hurt show on his face, “what do you mean? poisoned mercury is a sick name.” 
“mercury is already poisonous. your band name is like redundant or some shit.” 
“then why did so many people in history ingest it?” luke asked, recalling the one thing he remembered from his high school history class before he dropped out. he took a drag from his cigarette, turning his body a bit so the wind didn’t blow the smoke directly in your face. 
“they fucking died, castellan,” you replied, deadpan. 
“oh,” he blinked, staring off, “i didn’t know that.” 
you rolled your eyes, a habit that you’ve picked up whenever you were with him and sat back down on the bench. luke joined you, silent as he thought about what you just said. he really needed to stop zoning out during lessons, but since he was already out of high school, he guessed it didn’t matter anymore. 
as much as you hate to admit it, luke castellan was growing on you. sure, he got on your nerves like nobody else– the boy just doesn’t quit– but, he wasn’t half as bad as you originally thought. not that you’d ever tell him that though. 
when you got back to the cabin last week after helping with concert prep, the cabin was spotless. there were no empty red bull cans in sight, the table tops were free of crumbs, floor vacuumed and mopped, and there was even a candle burning on the counter. you approached your bedroom door to find a post-it on the handle. luke’s messy writing was smudged around the corners, but you could still make out what it said. 
“five star, 
i snitched on the boys and my mom will have a stern talk with them about their cleanliness. can’t promise that people will stop talking about me, but i can promise you won’t have to live in the dojo casa house mojo or whatever it was. 
ps i’m using the spot tomorrow, just thought i should let you know. maybe we can set up a calendar for reservations. 
luke :)” 
the cabin hasn’t been as messy since. whatever may castellan told the boys worked like a charm. there was still the occasional trash, but nothing crazy. it smelled better in the cabin too, still like a boy, but it smelled like expensive cologne more than anything. cedarwood and pine. 
and thankfully, the luke castellan hype train was starting to run out of steam, with many people finally realizing that he was also just a human being and the surprising revelation that luke castellan was not entertaining anyone during his time at camp helped with it as well. you still heard whispers about him here and there, but you were glad the topic of conversation was beginning to switch to something else. 
you and luke walked to the gym and back home every morning together. he and the boys sat with you and clarisse during meals. they tagged along for music lessons and spoke to the kids, which they really appreciated. they helped the older campers with writing music, luke particularly. you’d been around a few musicians in your life and many of them only kissed ass when your dad was around, but poisoned mercury was different. they were passionate about their music. that was clear.
after a conversation with clarisse, where she managed to convince you that not all musicians are like your ex, you began to let loose a little bit. you hung out with the boys more, partly as an excuse so clarisse could hang out with chris without causing too much suspicion, and found that you actually enjoyed their company. and luke castellan? well, he wasn’t half bad. that doesn’t mean he got off easy though. 
you took a hit of your vape, facing him, “are you done interrogating me?” 
“for now, yeah,” he smiled as you shook your head. “are you coming to the concert tonight?” 
“well, i did help organize it.” 
“a simple yes would’ve sufficed, five star,” luke teased, relighting his cigarette. it was burning unevenly and luke was never one to waste his cigarettes. “you gonna watch us play?” 
“don’t have a choice. dad wants me there the whole time.” 
“you can act a little excited,” luke ran a hand through his curls, “we are pretty good, you know.” 
“i know,” you hummed. the sun was beginning to set and there was a slight breeze in the air. goosebumps formed on your skin, the t-shirt and denim shorts you wore didn’t offer much comfort. you shivered, “i have listened to your music.” 
“are you cold?” 
your teeth chattered, but you shook your head, “i’m fine.” 
luke took off his hoodie, tossing it in your direction, “take it.” 
“no,” you tossed it back to him, “told you i’m good.”
always so stubborn, luke thought.  
“if you catch a cold, that’s not on me,” he placed the hoodie on the bench between the two of you. “which songs have you listened to?” 
“kilby girl, of course. it played on the radio so much when you guys first dropped it,” you said, remembering the days where you and your hometown friends would blast it in the car. it reminded you of high school, reckless decisions, life-long memories, and the thrill of knowing you were going to be playing the sport you’d worked so hard to excel in at a d1 level in the fall. you looked at him, sincerity in your eyes, “i really like family line. it might be my favorite.” 
luke’s eyebrows shot up. not many people talked about family line. it was probably their least streamed song. they never performed the song on tour because it was difficult for luke to sing it. it was a personal song to him. it was inspired by his relationship with his father, or lack thereof. 
when poisoned mercury first got signed to olympus records, luke sent a message to his dad on facebook. luke hadn’t tried to contact him since he was ten, not since his father returned his letter to him unopened, no response but a “return to sender” stamp plastered over the envelope. but after the small congratulatory party his mom set up for the band after they signed, luke felt like a little kid again, a kid who wanted to share the great news with his dad, so he found his dad on facebook, made an account, and sent him a message. 
he didn’t get a reply, which was expected, but it felt good for a second to pretend that he had a father to tell his good news to. luke thought he didn’t care about whether or not his dad was proud of him, but when his message went from “sent” to “read” a few days later, he was brought back to those moments in his life when he cried and wondered why he wasn’t enough to make his dad stay. he wrote family line in one sitting, on his bed in his bedroom in connecticut, looking at the little league medals on his wall that seemed to mock him. 
he originally didn’t want it on the album because he felt like it didn’t fit the vibe of the rest of the songs and that it was too real, too vulnerable for a debut album, but then he played it for his mom and she loved it. she cried when she first heard it and luke knew that even if people didn’t like the song, he was going to put it out for his mom. 
“huh,” he cleared his throat, trying to regain his composure, “wasn’t expecting that one. thought you’d be more of a crash my car type of girl.” 
“i like that too,” you shrugged, “but family line. that song. i don’t think i have the words to describe it.” 
“thanks, five star,” luke looked down at his feet, taking a puff from his dying cigarette. “that’s my mom’s favorite, too.” 
“did you write it?” 
luke nodded, looking to face you. there was a new expression on your face, one that you’d never used with him before. it was a mix of disbelief and awe. he tried not to get offended that you didn’t think he could write something like family line, but he couldn’t blame you. he didn’t really portray the type of person who would be able to be that raw and vulnerable on a song. “me and trav write the lyrics for our songs, mostly. chris and connor help too, but the bulk of the lyrics are me.” 
“you need to stop doing that.”
he cocked his head to the side, crushing the cigarette butt on the hardware of the bench, “doing what?” 
“surprising me,” you shook your head, “i don’t like it.” 
“i don’t know what to tell you,” he chuckled, leaning back on the bench. he looked out into the lake, watching the sun disappear behind the mountains, “i have layers. you just gotta give me a chance.” 
“how do you do it?” you sat criss cross on the bench, leaning against the arm rest. “how do you write like that?” 
you’d always been curious about music, even if you weren’t good at it. your dad was never one to answer your questions, especially because you were interested in lyrics more than anything, and that wasn’t his forte. 
luke mimicked your actions, “i dunno. personal experience, i guess?”
you frowned, thinking about the lyrics of family line. luke never talked about his dad, but spoke highly of his mom. was family line based on his own life? if it was, his dad was an asshole. 
you relented to the cold, grabbing the hoodie that he left in between the two of you. you ignored the triumphant smile on his face when you draped the sweater over your bare legs, shielding them from the wind chills. 
he continued, “sometimes things happen to me that get me worked up and i have to write a song about it. sometimes, it’s based on my imagination. it depends.”
you wanted to ask him about his dad, but you didn’t know if he considered you guys friends yet. it’s not like you made it easy for him anyway. you could deal with the banters and annoyance, but you didn’t want to push him to talk about something he wasn’t ready to. you could be a dick, but you weren’t cruel. 
you changed the subject, “okay, let’s play a game.” 
“21 questions?” luke bit his bottom lip, trying not to laugh. he waggled his eyebrows, dodging your arm that reached out to smack him. 
“you’re gross,” you gagged, knowing the implications of the game, “no, i’m gonna ask about the songs on your album and you tell me if it’s real life or from your imagination.” 
“alright, go for it five star,” he beamed, propping his elbows on his crossed knees. he loved talking about music with anyone. he could go on and on for hours. 
“18.” 
“real,” luke snorted, remembering the first time travis pitched the idea for the song to the band, “but not my experience. it was trav. he met this girl at one of our gigs in new york, right after we got signed, and he was obsessed. she was a freshman at nyu and she kept telling him he was too young for her, even though she was just less than a year older. trav was hooked.” 
you could picture it. it was definitely something travis would do. “okay, another one of my favorites. only angel?” 
“not real,” luke shook his head, a slight blush creeping up on his face. “if you tell anyone, five star, i will vehemently deny it, but i had a crush on jade west from victorious and i wrote it about her.” 
there was something about jade west that made luke like a love-sick puppy. ignoring the fact that she was hot, her attitude was something that luke was attracted to. she had a tough exterior and acted like she didn’t care about people, but she had her moments where she was soft and kind to the people she cared about the most. luke liked that. the idea that someone could be sensitive but only to the people they deemed worthy. 
he’d spent so much of his life trying to be worthy, in whatever way the stage of his life defined it, and he craved it– a pat on the back, an approval, a confirmation that he was worthy of it. 
you threw your head back laughing, surprised by his ridiculous confession. the sound of your laughter rang across the woods, making luke smile. your voice echoed throughout the trees and he his senses were surrounded by you. it hit luke like a truck. 
he sucked in a breath, taking out his phone. he jolted from his seat for more than one reason. “shit, five star. we gotta go.” 
you took out your phone too, checking the time. your eyes widened as you got up from your seat. you threw his hoodie over to him, “fuck, we’re late.” 
the two of you raced out of the woods, arriving to the concert venue with flushed faces and rapid breaths. you could feel clarisse’s knowing eyes on you as you got ready for the concert. you tried your best to ignore it. you were going to deal with that later. 
“and for the final event, i know you guys are looking forward to this one,” your dad laughed into the mic. the sun was long gone and there were disco lights illuminating the stage. a smoke machine was on either corner, making it difficult to see the bottom half of the stage. you and clarisse stood in the front row, listening to the deafening cheers of the campers. “ladies and gents, welcome poisoned mercury!” 
the screams got louder which you didn’t even know was possible. travis entered the stage first, sticking his tongue out as he expertly twirled his drumsticks around his fingers. connor came in next, smiling and waving at the crowd as he plugged his guitar into the amp. chris walked in with his bass strapped around his neck, eyes immediately finding clarisse and sending her a shy smile. you nudged her teasingly, enjoying the way she blushed under the lights. 
then luke castellan walked in. he ditched his hoodie and t-shirt and walked in with a white tank top on, messing with the curls on his head. he tugged on the silver necklace around his neck as his eyes scanned the crowd. he threw a wink to the group of the older girls in the back, turning to travis to let out a laugh at their reaction. the lights on the boys were blinding and a thin layer of sweat already began to form on their skin despite the bite to the air. 
luke took center stage, picking up his guitar. he leaned over directly in front of you, fingers pretending to mess with the wires connecting his guitar to the speakers, “hey, five star.” 
he straightened his back before you could reply. clarisse’s eyes darted between you and the boy, now nudging you like you did to her earlier. you rolled your eyes, smiling at the rest of the boys as luke began talking on the mic. 
“what’s up, camp half blood?” luke screamed into the mic. the crowd roared. “we’re poisoned mercury and we are so happy to be with you guys here this summer. before we close out this awesome concert, i wanna introduce our lovely band.” 
“on drums, we have the one and only, travis stoll!” luke turned around to applaud travis as he did a little drum solo, head banging as he hit the drums. he turned to connor, “on lead guitar, we have the amazing connor stoll!” 
connor strummed his guitar, leaning over on the left side to soak in the applause of the crowd. the girls beside you swooned as he unleashed one of his award-winning smiles. 
luke faced chris, “and on bass, we have my very best friend in the entire world, my 4lifer, chris rodriguez!” clarisse cheered loudly for chris as he played a tune on his bass, mouthing, “love you, brother,” to luke as he played. the crowd quited for a second as luke addressed them again, “and my name is luke castellan. we’re poisoned mercury!” 
you turned around to look at the crowd. the size of the crowd tripled when the boys got on stage. everyone had a smile on their face, excited to hear them play. 
“the song we’ll be singing for you guys today is from our debut album,” luke adjusted his mic on the stand. he got closer to it, lips touching the metal, “this is only angel.” 
you couldn’t help but let out a laugh at their song choice. this was not the song they were supposed to sing. they’d been rehearsing kilby girl for the past week. luke saw your reaction, laughing along with you. 
the instrumentals began and you nearly missed the beat drop because of the cheers from the crowd. as the song progressed, the boys were one with the music. you watched luke sing, working the crowd like a pro. his skin glistened under the spotlight, beads of sweat tricking down the side of his face. he approached chris when the chorus started, dragging his mic stand with him. he swung his guitar around so it rested on his back as he sang the lyrics. his curls were sticking to his forehead, eyebrows raised in glee as he performed. 
you couldn’t take your eyes off the lead singer, not even when the rest of the band had their own solos in the song. your eyes were glued on luke; how his adam’s apple was on full display as he threw his head back, getting lost in the music, how his arms flexed as he wrapped the mic cord around his fist, how his thin tank top stuck to his body and how it raised when he lifted his arm up to bring the mic closer to his lips. you saw the outline of his abdomen and his v-line. 
but what really got you was his face. he looked at peace on stage, a wide smile on his face, full lips pink and glossy as he licked them in between verses. he looked incredible up there, like that was where he belonged. he was born to be on stage like this. 
“fuck,” you mumbled, applauding at the end of their song. luke’s eyes found yours as he sang the last bit of the song, smiling at you. you hoped clarisse couldn’t hear you talk to yourself. you looked down at your feet, tugging nervously on the collar of your shirt, “i get it now.”
469 notes · View notes
literaila · 9 months
Note
your newest fic has woken something in me, verity. can i request nice sweet petter with mean!reader, who isn't actually mean ? but she just teases peter and flirts with him and leaves him tongue tied and peter is like "its cruel of you to make me fall in love with you". thank you, you're the best !
masochism
tasm!peter x reader
a/n: this means absolutely nothing. and everything.
Tumblr media
*
“peter,” you say, dryly, frowning as you set your bag on the chair next to you.
the library is usually empty this time of night. nothing but bookworms and tired librarians with their yawns to break the silence. but that’s how you like it.
that’s why you come this late. you don’t want to make small talk with a stranger asking if they can borrow one of your chairs. and you definitely do not want to get charm and pretty eyes all over you. it doesn’t come out.
“fancy seeing you here,” peter says, and he’s moving from his table to come and sit at yours. his papers are a mess and he doesn’t even blink when he almost drops a pen on the floor.
of course, he doesn’t even need an invitation because he’s peter parker.
“are you stalking me?”
“intentionally?” peter asks, and his smile is teasing and far too bright for the dark of this room. “no. it’s not my fault you always show up where i am. but i’m not complaining.”
“well, i am. i came here to study. alone.”
“and you got the pleasure of receiving my company instead. lucky you.”
you grunt but sit down anyway. even if you actually wanted him to leave, peter wouldn’t. he’s far too stubborn and shiny for that.
it was a mistake to take calculus in the first place, but it was a certifiable failure on your part that peter seemed to latch onto you. he was good at math (another red flag) and he liked to coo and you and your smudges and erase marks.
and he seemed to show up when you least expected it; like he wanted to give you a heart attack.
peter leans over the table, his hair falling over his eyes. “what’re you working on?”
“an essay.”
there’s a beat of silence, and peter laughs. “about…” he ducks his head, eyes teasing and smile incandescent. and irritating.
“the probability of committing homicide in libraries at eleven pm,” you tap a pen against his forehead, pushing him back.
“always at your service.”
“why are you here?” you ask him. “don’t you have babies you need to swaddle? old women you need to fond over you?”
“pfft,” peter says, leaning back, looking far too comfortable. “i already did that today. plus it’s a wednesday night, and the visiting hours at the nursing home end at eight.”
you nod understandingly. “well, unless you want to become apart of my research study, shoo.” you wave him away.
he only laughs. “but i haven’t seen you in almost a week. you’re not taking calculus b.”
peter is wearing a mock pout. his eyes are glowing in the three foot distance between you. and the smirk on his face is only a harsh reminder of how much you hate him. his hair is curled at the edges and it’s brushed across the top of his forehead. his teeth are straight and white.
and you can see when he swallows.
“oh you mean bodily torture part two? yeah, no, i figured i’d go with the classic bondage exposé class this semester.”
peter clears his throat, chuckling, and you watch as his cheeks tinge with pink.
“you’ve taken that class, haven’t you, peter?”
“haven’t had the opportunity, no.”
“well, if you never need a quick lesson…” you whisper, voice sultry and on the edge of manic laughter. watching peter squirm in his seat almost makes up for the lack of studying going on right now.
“good to know.”
you purse your lips at him, making an effort not to laugh.
while this conversation has headed into unfound territory, you’ve managed to pull out your notes and turn on your computer, making peter a little more than an object in the distance.
but not peter spins your computer around, illuminating his face, and frowning as he stares at the screen.
“this is a blank document,” he says.
“what wonderful observation skills you have.”
“your name isn’t even at the top.”
you steal the computer back, scowling. “i’m working on it.”
“oh, are you?”
“you’re distracting me,” you hiss at him, eyes glaring and heart burning as he smiles back.
peter is too smiley. he’s too effortlessly calm. too much for you, and too much for this entire library.
“oh, i’m distracting you?” he repeats, shaking his head. “that’s priceless.”
“i’m not sure what you’re implying.”
“i’m saying,” peter whispers, “that you’re the one talking to me about bondage while i’m trying to make pleasant conversation—“
“oh, i’m so sorry,” you interrupt, hand going to your chest in mock sympathy. “it just seemed like something you’d be in to.”
peter snorts. “really?”
“if the rope fits,” you say back, looking away from him and counting to ten.
you need lessons in holding your tongue. lessons in how to respond when someone smiles at you like there’s nothing else they’d rather be smiling at.
“that’s not funny,” peter says, but his lips are curled.
“then why are you laughing?”
“i like riling you up,” he says, “it’s very amusing.”
“you just called yourself a tease. you’re not even trying to hide it now,” you point out.
your computer dims because you haven’t touched it in the last three minutes.
“that would make you the masochist, wouldn’t it? since you’re the one enduring my teasing?”
“is this your idea of foreplay, peter?”
“is it working?”
you hadn’t even realized that you were leaning in with him. just a couple more inches and you’d be nose to nose.
you smile at him, undeterred by his proximity—at least, mostly—pretty and sweet. “why don’t you come over here and find out.”
peter tuts. “don’t say things you don’t mean, bub.”
“who says i don’t mean it?”
you’re mostly teasing him. mostly trying to get him to move as far away from you ask possible before you wrap your hands around his neck and either strangle him or kiss him until he wants to strangle you.
but finally, peter leans back, sighing. “you’re driving me insane, you know that?”
you shrug. “you’re the one stalking me.”
you look away from him, pulling your computer closer to you, and tapping on the keys to wake it up.
“i wouldn’t have to stalk you if you would just accept my offer to go to dinner.”
“i’m not really a dinner person,” you say, licking your lips while you purposefully avoid his gaze.
“coffee, then. or a trip to the schools gift shop. i’ll buy you a sweater.”
“mmm… i’m not really a peter person.”
“now that’s just mean,” he says, but you can hear him smiling. you can feel him watching you, his eyes burning circles into your skin.
it’s a pleasant warmth, though.
“i know,” you drawl, looking up at him. “and you still won’t leave me alone.”
peter sighs, shrugging, and he’s smiling while he looks at you. “maybe i’m the masochist.”
you try not to laugh and fail.
*
part two
1K notes · View notes
kittenintheden · 3 months
Text
You Can Read Me Anything Part 2
*ELMO ON FIRE GIF* so that took longer than anticipated but you know. HERE YOU GO. (thank you for all the wonderful comments on Part 1)!
***
Druidic Tav grew up in a nomadic clan that recorded their history through spoken word and song rather than written text. As such, she's illiterate, and one charming-ish vampire offers to help her with reading lessons and a whole lot more. Out of the goodness of his heart, of course.
Then one night, she unwittingly brings him smut for their lesson.
Rating: E Word Count: 5100 words Content: illiterate Tav, Astarion being a shit, but also being cute, innocent Tav, suggestive dialogue, blood drinking, biting kink, first time oral, cunnilingus, fellatio, PIV sex, Astarion playing himself
AO3 Link
Tumblr media
Astarion cradles her head, palm gently pressed to her cheek as she leans into it. She sighs and it tickles his ear, sending a dissipating wave of gooseflesh down the length of his back.
“Are you done yet?” Tav asks, voice breathy.
He hums and detaches from her neck, admiring the clean pair of fang marks he left there. His tongue swipes his bottom lip so he doesn’t waste a single drop of her blood. He releases her and takes a step back.
“You…” he says with a lazy smile as he reaches out with a finger to boop her nose. “... are so delicious.”
“Ha, ha,” she says with an affectionate eyeroll. She spreads her hand over the bite mark and calls on her connection to nature, using it to knit the flesh back together and restore her blood supply. “Glad to help.”
“I’ll bet you are,” he drawls at her with a wink. “Thank you for the appetizer. I’d best go find myself a full meal now.”
As he starts to saunter off deeper into the woods, Tav clicks her fingers and lightly bonks herself on the head. “Oh, almost forgot.” After him, she calls the Elvish phrase Shadowheart taught her.
For the first time since she met him at the site of the nautilus crash, she watches Astarion trip over his own feet.
He catches himself quickly, spine unusually straight as he puts his hands on his waist and takes a few more steps like he’d meant to do that the whole time. When he turns around to look at her, her smile fades when she notices his wide-eyed expression. The tips of his ears have gone very pink.
“Wha-” His voice cracks and he clears his throat and tries again, tone painfully casual. “What did you say?”
Tav grimaces. “Shit, did I get the middle part wrong? It was tricky when Shadowheart had me practice.”
Astarion leans forward a bit and gives a shaky laugh. “Ah. Right. I must’ve misunderstood. What were you trying to say?”
“She told me it meant, ‘I’m pleased to have provided you a good meal,’” Tav says, reaching up to pull some of her hair over her shoulder and fiddle with it.
“I see,” he says as he comes closer, his eyes searching her face. “Could you say it again? So I can correct your enunciation.”
“Oh, okay.” Tav gives a soft cough into her hand and repeats the phrase.
Astarion is close enough now that she sees his pupils dilate the tiniest bit. The flush at the tips of his ears spreads down the edges. Do they always do that after he feeds? They must.
He reaches delicate fingers up to cup her chin and draw her jaw down, parting her lips. His eyes are trained on her mouth and that makes her feel all too warm.
“Loosen your tongue,” he says softly. “Once more.”
She tries one more time and watches his eyelids flutter, inches from her own.
“There we go,” he whispers.
His gaze shifts to her neck again and he leans down toward it. She nearly stops him, but then she feels the draw of his tongue over the spot where he bit. He punctuates it with a soft, barely-perceptible press of his lips. A kiss, she might think, if she were a silly little girl. Which she certainly is not.
Then he’s standing straight again, releasing her face and putting space between them.
“Missed a smudge. Can’t let it go to waste.” His eyes rove over her face. “It’s so very precious.”
Then he walks off and she’s left standing there, cheeks hot and chest uncomfortably tight. Tav continues to run her fingers nervously through her hair as she turns and walks back toward their camp.
Astarion counts out fifty paces before he ducks behind a tree and leans his back heavily against it, letting out a shivery breath. He puts his cool fingers to his ears and tries to rub the heat out of them.
“Stop it,” he whispers to himself. “Stop it, stop it.”
---
Near the crumbling wreckage of a stone alter, Shadowheart kneels in prayer seeking guidance and direction from her Lady. The darkness, the loss, the silence… they are vast and answerless. She opens her eyes and takes a deep breath in and out. Clenches her right hand, glancing at the ever-present wound there.
If only she could remember… anything useful. No matter. For now, it’s whatever path will take her back to Baldur’s Gate.
She gathers her components and packs them away, standing to walk back down the path toward camp. There’s a trio of crumbling walls that clearly used to be some sort of holy building and she walks along one, trailing her fingers over the soft moss overgrowth.
Then she turns round the corner of the broken temple to find a bristling, broody vampire leaned up against the wall with his arms folded, glaring at her with a tic in his jaw. He raises an accusatory finger.
"You," he says, the word hard on his tongue. "Are an arsehole."
She gives him a smug smile and arches her brow. "You're a bigger arsehole."
He refolds his arm and narrows his eyes at her. “Really think you’re clever, don’t you.”
The cleric shrugs and cuts off to the side to walk back to the path. “The goal was to make you lose your cool. Seems like it worked.”
Silently and suddenly he’s walking at her side, lip curling in disdain. “Congratulations to you, you managed to annoy me. Don’t do it again.”
“Oh, he’s testy tonight,” she says, putting a hand to her cheek in a mockery of shock. “Maybe you’d feel less the fool if you hadn’t been teaching her to talk dirty.”
“We can’t all be ice queens, dear,” he sneers. “Some of us are queens with needs.”
Shadowheart rolls her eyes and her entire head along with it. “You should be thanking me, then. I gave you your opening.”
Astarion stops and she keeps on walking.
“To what?” he says.
“To have your ‘needs’ met,” she calls over her shoulder. “I’m not the one who was teaching her to invite me betwixt her thighs. Have a frustrating night.”
Astarion makes an affronted noise after her, pouts a moment, and then calls back, “Your bangs are wretched, by the way.”
She throws a rude gesture up at him and continues onward.
---
He plots and flirts for three days straight before he decides to make his move. Tav’s guard is down, her shy little moments are increasing in frequency, and he can literally hear her heartbeat quicken when he’s near. If that’s not all signs pointing to yes, he doesn’t know what is.
All he has to do is, you know. Make the move. Which he’ll do. Soon.
Because she still makes the most sense. The others all adore her, listen to her. She’s the perfect choice of protector should his vampirism prove a problem to anyone. She’ll say yes. Of course she’ll say yes.
… of course she’ll say yes. No one denies him. It doesn’t happen.
… it rarely happens. Not as if he’d care if it did, this time.
Astarion rocks his weight onto his back leg, flicking his gaze up to see Tav kneeling near the campfire and giving the dog a generous belly rub. Before she stops, he goes back to his extremely casual reading. Standing posed outside his tent. Holding a book with the title facing out. Very normal.
After what feels like an hour, his ears pick up approaching footsteps and he skims the page he’s on, waiting.
“Is that a new one?” Tav asks timidly.
He closes the book and looks up to meet her. His close-lipped smile feels almost natural. Almost.
“There you are,” he says, dropping his register a fraction. “I was just thinking about you.”
Not a lie, actually.
She tucks her hair behind one ear. “Oh? Do I owe you something?”
He laughs and sets his book aside. “Only a bit of your time. I do enjoy it so very much.”
Tav quirks her mouth up on one side. “Yeah? You’re pretty okay, too.”
“Better than okay, I should hope.” He closely examines his thumbnail. “I’m… growing to enjoy the whole package, honestly.”
She doesn’t immediately respond and he chances a look up at her.
“Deer in the magicked light” is what one might call the expression on her face. She blinks rapidly and gives her head a small shake before she looks to the side, color rising prettily in her cheeks.
“Is that so?” she says, giving a tight laugh.
His smile starts to go a little toothy and he dials it back. “I’ve been thinking an awful lot about our last reading lessons,” he lilts at her, peering up through his lashes. “And our language lessons. I’ve been pondering over what other sorts of lessons I could offer.”
Tav’s cheeks go pink to red.
He leans in to speak softly, making her lean in closer to be able to hear him. “I like you,” he says. “And I think you like me, too. So?”
“So, what?” she blurts, immediately grimacing at her own outburst.
A giggle bubbles up out of him before he can stop it and he puts a hand up in front of his mouth to hide his smile. When he regains control, he lowers his hand. “So, I thought you might like to indulge in certain curiosities with me.”
I want to go down on you.
Astarion blinks the thought away as soon as it appears in his head, briefly letting his smile slip before he snatches it back.
Tav is blushing furiously, but she leans in closer to him nonetheless to whisper, “Like what, exactly?”
Elvish, rising like the language of his dreams: I want to drink of your fountain.
He gives his head a light shake, playing it off with a mirthful huff as he says lowly, “Like sex, sweet thing. Whatever kind you might be… interested in.”
Tav nods rapidly and hums, slowly leaning back and standing at her full height again, not quite meeting his eye. “I was pretty sure that’s what you meant, but you know. Better safe than sorry? Is that a thing people say?”
Astarion reaches out to gently guide her chin toward him until she’s looking at him. “Think about it. If you’re amicable, you’ll find me later at the clearing where you last offered me a bite after the others are asleep.” He chucks her under the chin. “I’ll be waiting.”
She nods once more, expression unchanged. “Yeah. Yep. Okay. I’m going to… see you later. Maybe.” Then she turns on her heel and walks away.
“See you later,” he says. “Lover.”
When she disappears into the dark, he blows out a breath, subtly shaking his hands out. That was a yes.
Right?
“Of course it was,” he snipes at his own brain.
---
Hours later, Astarion paces the moonlit clearing, fiddling with the cuffed sleeve of his shirt. The others must be asleep by now. He pulls at the sleeve. It feels too tight.
Should he take the shirt off? He should just take the shirt off.
He does.
Astarion glances around the clearing once more, noting the blanket he spread on the ground nearby. Not a bed, but you know. He’s okay with that, actually.
He clenches and unclenches his fists, rolling his hands at the wrists. Cracking his neck. Rolling out his shoulders. He takes a deep breath and forces himself to be still. Controlled. Practiced. This is an act he’s performed thousands of times. This is no different.
It’s not.
She’s going to come out of those bushes any moment and-
The bushes he’s looking at actually rustle and he jumps, whispering “oh, shit” before he can stop himself. He manages to put a smile back on his face just as the leaves part and a small doe takes two hops into the clearing and freezes when it spots him.
Astarion doesn’t move. He doesn’t even breathe. The doe relaxes very slightly, flicking an ear.
It’s one of the little black-tailed deer native to the area. He’s made a meal of more than one of them in recent days. Her coat is smooth and healthy, her eyes brown and clear.
The doe blinks at him and takes a step closer.
He gives a relieved chuckle and says, “There you are, Tav.”
“Oh, you heard me? Damn,” says a voice from behind him.
“Ah-” he yells. He tries to cut off the sound, but it’s too late. The doe spooks and bounds off into the underbrush once again.
“Apologies,” he says, regaining his composure and rolling his eyes to the stars above. “She was such a pretty little thing that I assumed it was you.” He starts to turn. “But I’m glad you made it. I was starting to worry you’d gotten lost and…” He finally sets eyes on her and loses his smile immediately. “... and you’re already naked.”
Tav stands before him without a stitch on, her long hair hanging over her rounded breasts and everything from the waist down on full display. He spots her clothing and staff in a neat stack nearby. Her whole body is flushed.
Astarion swallows. He’s seen untold numbers of people in states of full undress. This is routine. She caught him off-guard, is all.
“I… was I not supposed to be?” Tav says, hands going up to run nervously through her draping hair. “Sorry, I thought… you said sex? And then I saw that you had your shirt off, so…”
He holds up a hand and ticks up his brows. “No, no, it’s fine. It’s fine! I like it.” He finds the mask, the posture, like muscle memory. Slips back into the person in control. “You’re just full of surprises, beautiful.”
Tav rewards him with a bashful smile, continuing to comb her hands through her hair.
Astarion huffs a laugh. He can’t help himself. He approaches her with slow, intentional steps. “I had a whole catalog of poetic nothings to whisper in your ear, but looks like I needn’t bother, which is fine by me.” He stops in front of her, smiling his charmer’s smile. “So long as you still want to be tasted.”
He’s starting to notice it’s a good sign when the apples of her cheeks turn red. She nods. “I’d like to try the tongue thing, yes, please.”
“Good,” he purrs, reaching for her hips.
He pulls her in for a sweet, well-executed stage kiss. Most people needed about that much before they got to what they were really with him for. He pulls back and gives her a tight-lipped smile.
Tav looks into his eyes, her lips parted. She’s not moving, and oh gods, he’s going to have to lead completely, isn’t he? Ah well. Such is life.
But then she tucks her chin, her gaze going heated. The pupils of her eyes flicker, changing shape ever so slightly, and Astarion hardly has time to drop his pretender’s smile and ask before she surges forward and kisses him back, throwing her arms around his neck.
Astarion gives a surprised “mmmn!” as he stumbles slightly under her vigor, but he corrects quickly, wrapping his arms around her ribcage and lifting her against his body. Her tongue runs along his mouth and she’s nipping, nipping, and-
There’s a sharp sting on his bottom lip and he releases her right as she pulls back from him, hands to her mouth and eyes wide as saucers. He reaches up to touch his lip and when he looks at his fingers, they show a smeared drop of blood. He blinks down at it, astounded.
He feels a snap deep inside him as the monster in him, the hunter, stirs at the sight and scent of blood.
“I’m so sorry,” Tav says, dropping her hands. “It’s a druid thing, we can get a little wild, I’m really sorry, I won’t do it again.”
Astarion licks at the cut on his lip and stares at her face, his breath heavy and his shoulders ever so slightly hunched. He can see the smallest bit of his blood at the corner of her mouth.
“Do it again,” he says with a voice like gravel as he scoops her bodily up and goes to his knees so he can set her on the ground.
He lays his body on top of hers and she gasps as his mouth covers hers, exploring and hungry. It doesn’t take long for her to return it in kind, arms wrapped around his shoulders and tangled in his hair. He can’t even bring himself to care when she’s making it look like.
Murkily, his brain reminds him why he’s actually here.
Astarion forces himself away from her mouth and she whines at him, a sound far more animalistic than humanoid, but he doesn’t stop trailing his lips down her body until he gets to her hips. He rolls himself up onto his knees and runs his palms up the tops of her legs from knee to thigh, coaxing them open so he can position himself between.
He looks at her face to find her gaze far less “startled doe” and far more “she-wolf in heat.” Her tongue darts out, licking her lip before she says, “People really like to do this?” Then, “You like to do this?”
Astarion positively grins, his pointed teeth showing through.
"Yes. Though it’s a pity this is your first experience," he says through his feral smile. "Because no one will ever best what I'm about to do to you."
“O-okay,” she stammers, clutching her fists close to her sides.
He purrs deep in his throat and puts his mouth to the inside of her knee, the tip of his tongue tracing a sensual line down her thigh, toward her center. He holds her eye the entire time and delights when her leg twitches.
When he nears the crease of her hip, he gives her a sharp nip and she growls at him, bucking her hips. He runs his tongue up along the crease until he reaches her hipbone, to which he gives a firm suck. As she attempts to roll her hips toward him, he spreads a palm over her hips and applies pressure to hold her down.
“Shall we check to see how you’ve kept your garden?” he says, looking at her from under his brows as he speaks.
In response, Tav giggles and slaps a hand over her mouth. Then nods.
She drops her hand to the ground and shakes her head, murmuring, “It can’t be that different, I’m sure it’s just like…” She shudders in a breath. “... just like…”
Astarion parts his lips and huffs out his breath against the slick skin at her core, already shining with want and anticipation. The sensation is a warming one.
Tav continues muttering to herself. “Books are full of all kinds of nonsense, I’m sure it’s-”
He flicks his tongue right over her clit.
“Ah,” she yelps, trying to buck her hips again. He doesn’t let her.
But he does flick again.
“Wha-” she says, thighs jerking on either side of Astarion’s head. “Why is-”
Astarion presses the flat of his tongue firmly at her entrance and draws it slowly all the way to the hood, teasing with the tip before he curls his tongue in slightly and dips back down to better open her inner labia.
“Holy hells,” Tav groans out, her chest arching up and the hands clawing the ground at either side of her growing actual claws.
He gives her another lap before pulling back to smolder at her. “And here I’ve only just started,” he says, voice silky.
“Holy hells,” Tav shouts to the sky this time.
Astarion huffs a laugh against her and goes back down, playing her with highly practiced skill. Full, long licks paired alongside firm draws over the swelling pearl at her center. She continues to buck ever now and again, but mostly she’s gone near boneless above him, head lolling lazily to either side and fingers weakly gripping the grass on either side of her.
When her breathing begins to stutter and he feels the flutter of her getting close, he finally moves his hand from her belly back down until he can get the angle right. He places the tips of his two middle fingers at her entrance so he doesn’t surprise her and glances up to see her eyes flutter open. She stares down at him from between the mounds of her breasts, pupils blown wide.
She licks her bottom lip.
She nods.
Astarion slides his fingers inside her and begins to pump in time with the movements of his mouth. Tav goes wild, both literally and figuratively. The pupils of the eyes watching him go slitted like a cat’s, gradually dilating back as her teeth go sharp and a random patterning of fur shivers down the length of her body before turning back to skin.
He takes that as a good sign and curls his fingers inside of her until he finds what he’s looking for.
Tav bark-mewl-roar-calls into the air above the clearing, her hips grinding into his mouth and hand now that she can move them again.
“Why does that…” she gasps. “Feel… so… good?” The last word comes out a growl.
He’d answer, but his mouth is preoccupied and he dare not let it leave its task.
With his free hand, he pushes her thigh up and guides it higher until she can wrap her leg round his shoulders and he can go deeper. He feels the swell of her under his tongue, going harder beneath his touch, and he begins to trace circles around it as he continues to pump his fingers into her.
Tav’s entire body rolls, trying to get closer, to get more, to get-
She howls as the tension finally snaps. Literally howls, from the very bottom of her chest.
Astarion slows but doesn’t stop, continuing to fuck her through it as he feels her release in the palm of his hand. He’s gentle, taking a touch of pity on her as he gives her a few more soft licks before he leaves her, drawing his fingers from her at the same time. They’re a mess, as is his face. He sits back on his knees and looks her over with lidded eyes, a self-satisfied half-grin on his face. Then he reaches into his pocket to produce a soft cloth to clean up.
He’s not much of a planner, but he plans enough for things like this.
Tav lolls on the ground, her body fully returned back to humanoid form. All except her pupils, which continue to occasionally flicker across the animal kingdom.
“Oh, that was good,” Astarion says, brows raised and grin on his face as he wipes his hand down. “Even for me, that was good. You’re welcome.”
She throws one arm out to her side, then the other, and slowly pushes herself up onto her elbows, trying to focus on him. “Why doesn’t… everybody do that? Oh my gods.” She flops back onto the ground.
Oh, she’s very good for his pride. He gives a pleased wiggle.
“You tell me,” he says. “Or call upon your old lovers and ask.”
Tav weakly waves her hand through the air. “They were bad. I’ve realized. Just now. They were bad at sex.”
“Poor thing,” Astarion croons. “All better now.”
“Yeah.” She rolls onto her side and sits up. Shakes out her head. And starts to crawl toward him.
He instinctively leans back as she comes closer, breasts swaying as she moves. “What are you doing?” he says.
She blinks at him. “I’m going to do it back.”
He blinks at her. “What?”
Tav draws her knees closer and matches his kneeling posture. “I’m going to put my mouth on you back.” She waits a beat. “If you want me to.”
“Uh,” Astarion breathes before he shakes himself and gets his wits back about him. “I would like that very much,” he says. He tries to purr it, but slightly lower in pitch is the best he can do.
It’s been years since he’s been with anyone who even bothered to ask. Probably decades.
Tav beams at him, a bright smile that’s so sunshiny it nearly betrays what they’ve just done. She rolls up onto her knees and pulls him by the wrists to do the same so she can reach the laces that hold his trousers on. His arousal pulses near her hands.
Astarion blinks. He’s… more into this than he usually is.
He blinks again.
He’s very into it, actually.
His fingers go to join hers and together they make quick work of his pants and underthings. Gently, she guides him back to kneeling again as she curls forward. Without thinking too much about it, he reaches out so he can hold her hair up out of her face. She’s at eye level with his cock, inspecting it with the eye of someone all too familiar with all the things nature has to offer and completely unashamed for it.
Astarion swallows back the wanting sound that tries to claw its way out of him.
“Have you done this before?” he asks softly.
Tav peers up at him from her position below and bends her legs at the knees, kicking her feet slowly through the air. She shakes her head “no” and something frozen inside him melts. Best ignore that. That’s a future-him problem.
“You are adorable,” he breathes. He finds he means it in the affectionate way rather than the condescending one, which is alarming. That’s another future-him problem.
Astarion clears his throat. “Same general practice applies here, really,” he says lightly.
Tav licks her lips and reaches out to touch him. Her fingers on him give him a little jolt to the solar plexus and he curls toward her on instinct before he catches himself.
“Tell me if there’s something I could do better,” she says, simply.
Then she licks along the underside of his cock and puffs her breath out across it, much in the same way he did to her.
He curls in toward her again and tightens the hand in her hair.
She puts her mouth over the head of him and he’s enveloped in warmth and oh, yes, he remembers this. This feels good. This feels very good.
Tav doesn’t get down very far before she backs up again. When she pulls off, he reaches a hand down to cup her jaw and draw it down, parting her lips.
“Loosen your tongue,” he whispers. “Once more.”
She does. She descends on him again, relaxing her jaw and loosening her tongue, taking him down deeper and deeper with each pass. Astarion means to watch and guide her, he does, but instead his head lolls back, eyes falling closed, and he smiles. A real smile.
It feels so bloody good. It feels good and he doesn’t have to… he can just be…
Tav hums a little with him mostly inside her mouth and he gasps from it, blinking back to the surface.
Oh, that’s too good.
He lets her go a few seconds more before he tightens the fingers in her hair once more to still her and gently guide her back. His chest heaves as her mouth leaves him, a string of saliva connecting them, and Astarion shudders forward.
“What’s wrong?” Tav asks, her eyes wide and concerned.
She can’t look at him like that. That’s not fair.
He lifts her beneath her arms and pulls her up toward him, her face to his, and kisses her again. She happily responds, catching his lower lip between hers and nipping once more.
Astarion groans.
Hands on her face, he breaks their kiss and tries to collect his scattered thoughts. It’s all hazed over with want. There was a reason for this, they were supposed to… he was supposed to…
“Why don’t we…” He loses the thought and swallows. Tries again. “Let’s find our mutual…”
Words, words, words, where are his words?
Astarion hisses through his teeth. “Oh, just… sex. Let’s have sex.”
“Oh,” Tav breathes, lips swollen and cheeks ruddy. “Okay.”
Whatever he had planned, which was not much, goes completely sideways as she simply climbs up onto his lap, reaches between them, and holds him steady so she can sink down onto him.
He’s so wholly unprepared for the suddenness and initiative of it that his eyes nearly roll back in his head before his mind catches up and he grips her hip with his hand, guiding her as he rolls up to meet her, his hips rhythmic, until their hips meet and he bottoms out.
Tav throws her arms around his shoulders and immediately begins to rock against him, her eyes closed and her joyous grin on her face. Astarion is doing his absolute best not to completely lose himself in her heat, her closeness, her scent.
Her pulse, oh, gods.
Astarion rocks himself up into her with steady rolls of his hips, tilting in to press his open lips to her neck with a moan.
“You can,” she gasps as she rides him. “You can bite, if you want.”
He’s not sure if the words he makes are language, but he does know he’s biting her and her blood washes over his tongue and he drinks lazily, sipping as he fucks into her at the same time. His mind is so unbelievably, blissfully bare of anything except how good, how hot, how much, how full, how winding winding winding-
Astarion pulls off her neck with a gasp almost on the edge of his orgasm. Automatically, he reaches between them and uses all the wiles of a skilled lockpick to send her spiraling over her ledge a second time before he furrows his brow, slams his eyes shut, and yells out as he climaxes, his spend spilling where he’s still buried deep.
“Oh, fuck,” he blurts before he can stop himself, nearly collapsing onto his side with Tav along for the ride. He slips out of her on the way down and immediately feels the mess they’ve just made.
Another future-him problem.
Tav casts a very half-hearted create water spell that at least rinses them off. She drapes herself over his chest, dopey smile plastered on her face. “You win,” she says. “I see what all the fuss is about now.”
“I bet you do,” he says breathily.
He’s grateful she’s not looking at his face as he struggles to hide the worry pulling at his expression. It’s future-him time, and future-him is having a moment.
He just had the best sex he can remember having in… that he can remember. With someone who will still be alive in the morning. And he likes her.
Oh, hells.
He likes her.
623 notes · View notes
venuslut · 4 months
Text
Tumblr media
FANTASIZING ABOUT having office sex with Nanami Kento ♡︎.
At first, Nanami didn’t even like you. While he works his ass off, you sit lazily at your desk and only care about your appearance. More invested in reapplying lipgloss to your brown lip-lined lips, or wondering if you should wear your natural afro out or braid your hair. You’d walk around the office with those tight little pencil skirts that could barely be considered professional, and those blouses that always found some way to accentuate your boobs.
But the icing on the cake was how dumb you were. It’s a miracle you even landed this job with how incompetent you were. Always asking him or your other colleagues to help you with a report, and if you were feeling really lazy, then you’d just ask them to do the whole thing entirely. You’d always flash them a sweet and innocent smile while you bent over beside them, offering an insincere apology for burdening them. No one could get mad at you though, well, no one except Nanami that is.
He’s had enough of your antics and decided you needed to learn that your beauty isn’t gonna get you anywhere around him. But he’s lesson, turned out to be having you sit naked on his lap with his cock stuffing you full. Your back was to his chest and he tied your wrist together behind you with his tie. Tears welled up in your eyes, threatening to smudge your perfect makeup but that was the least of your worries right now. Soft mewls left your lips and you begged for mercy, wanting him to move and grant you some kind of relief. But your pleas fell on deaf ears as Nanami continued to do his work, he had to work overtime because of you so you wouldn’t be getting any pleasure from him until he finished all the reports you dumped onto him earlier that day.
He’ll have you like that for what seems like hours when really it’s a few minutes because your reports really aren’t that hard. And when he’s done, best believe you’re in a world of hurt. The minute he clicks submit on the last assignment, he’s moving and bringing you along with him. Nanami surges up and brings you forward with a yelp of surprise. Without much care, he’ll have you fall onto his desk, forcing your back into an arch so that his cock stayed inside you. “See, did that take so long for me to do? It’s not hard if you put actual effort into it,” he says, thrusting into you from behind. One of his hands holding your arm to bring your body back so you took the full force of his strokes, the other hand is holding the back of your neck and pushing your face down into the cold plastic of his cubicle desk.
Clicking his tongue in disappointment, Nanami drank in your desperation as you moaned and whined shamelessly. For a moment, he allowed himself to enjoy the glazed, tearful look on your face. It was much more appealing in his opinion than your smug and ditzy expression that you constantly sported. Because he knew very well that you were such a whore underneath that innocent facade, and it was just a matter of time before someone put you in your place. His thrust were punishing, The sounds of your bodies colliding filled the room, the desk beneath you rocking with each forceful movement, creaking and groaning under the force of Nanami’s powerful movements.
Your moans mingled with the lewd slapping sounds that echoed in the office, fueling his desire further. Nanami's hips moved in a relentless dance of pleasure and possession, his own need building. He smoothly moved his fingers from your nape to entangle in your hair, before suddenly gripping it and pulling your head up as he leaned down to meet you halfway so he could speak in your ear.
“At least you’re good for something. You’re better suited as a well kept whore than an office worker, but don’t worry, I’ll fix that soon enough.”
Tumblr media
563 notes · View notes
wandamaximoffsbadgirl · 2 months
Text
Now It's Always Summertime
History Professor!Reader x Student!Natasha Romanoff x Student!Wanda Maximoff
Summary: You're just trying to get your thoughts together for the upcoming semester, but there are a few distractions.
Word Count: 850
Warnings: Mentions of getting high, student professor relationship, age gap everyone is over 18.
A/N: I watched a Tik Tok that had the right vibes and this came to mind so here you go. A little treat.
Tumblr media Tumblr media
You poured the black liquid from your stove top coffee maker into your glass mug. Your favorite mug with a world map on it. The steam bellowed from both the maker and your now full mug. The overhead lights of the office were off leaving the strings of fairy lights that adorned the bookshelves behind you and the warm glow of your desk lamp as the only sources of light. A Golden pothos falling over the sides of the shelves like waterfalls.
Tumblr media
The leather bound notebook sat on your desk with coffee ring stains from setting your mug atop of the blank page. You always thought it gave the page character when one found its way to a page. You transferred your thoughts from the newest edition of the history text book you received for this upcoming semester. 
Going over your previous semesters lesson plan and improving on it with the new text book in mind. You taught a few different classes and with the short summer semester coming to an end only to pick back up. Before you'd have time to do anything it would be Autumn with a chill in the air worthy of the hot cup you sipped on.
A knock against the open doorframe brought you from your thoughts. Looking up over your glasses, hair slipping past your ear as your head moved. Your two favorite students stood in your doorway, Natasha Romanoff and Wanda Maximoff. Neither were history majors, but you seem to have captured their attention as they've now taken two of your classes. Your Western Civ I class along with your Mythology class. The two were already in your schedule for the Fall semester for Western Civ II and Wanda somehow snuck her way into your Norse mythology class. 
“What can I do for you girls?” You asked setting your pen down and picking up your mug, refilling it once more before taking a sip. The two girls stepped in and closed the door behind them. Natasha coming around to beside you and looking at the notes you took. 
“Is this for next semester?” The redheaded Russian asked as her finger ran over the words, a small smudge coming at the bottom where the fresh ink resided. You took her hand in your own after setting the mug down. Much like a mother would you licked one of your own fingers and used it to wipe the mark away on her finger.
“It is and I'd appreciate if my notes could stay intact. My thoughts are jumbled enough without you smudging them Tasha.” You looked up at the red head with a smirk plastered on your face and hers adorned a blush as Wanda came to your other side arms wrapping around your shoulders. 
“We wanted to know if we could help you with anything?” You felt her breath on the shell of your ear. Your attention moving from the Russian to the Sokovian. 
“I'm sure you two could be studying for your finals instead of coming to ask if I need help.” You raised an eyebrow to the brunette, the smirk still on your face as her forehead found your cheek. 
“Need some stress relief.” She murmured against you making a chuckle bubble up from your chest. Wanda let out a whine in protest of your chuckle. 
“Well she needs a stress relief. I'm getting high later.” Your head spun back to the redhead. 
“Without me? Rude.” Natasha started laughing along with you.
“Well I can bring it if you say we can come over tonight and then we can all have a good time.” Natasha wiggled her eyebrows and tugged on your hand that was still in hers. Another whine falling past Wanda's lips is what made you give in. 
“Okay. Okay you two can come over. We'll get high and have some stress relief from finals for everyone's sake.” Both girls became excited at the thought of getting to come over. 
You lived a ways away from campus so you never worried about anyone seeing the girls come over since the three of you started up this throuple of yours at the beginning of the summer semester. 
The classes were smaller and the two girls had already caught your eye. Since neither was a history major you figured once they got their history credits you'd never see them again. The campus was huge and the history building was nowhere near where these two spent the rest of their day. Yet when you saw their names once more you knew you had to say something. So as the old saying goes; one thing led to another and here we are. 
You wrapped and arm around Wanda, pulling her into your lap where her face now buried its away into the crook of your neck. Natasha just leaned against you. More than content to have you against her stomach. You never thought this is where you'd be when you started teaching here, but you couldn't be more happy, more full, more loved than you are with these two in your life.
311 notes · View notes
konigsblog · 8 days
Note
Incel Konig meeting his favorite e girl at meet up. Tracks her down when she cuts their time short for being “ weird” and teaches her a lesson in back alleyway :(
tw/cw; incel!perv!könig, non-con/dub-con, rape, dark fiction, dead dove: do not eat. MDNI 18+ 🖥️
Tumblr media
könig struggles to differentiate a friendly gesture from a signal that you want to be fucked relentlessly.
in his eyes, könig believes that he has a chance with you. you're a streamer, you're aware of your target audience and the fact that it's older, depraved sickos that don't have anything better to do with their lives but to jerk off and stalk their favourite e-girl.
könig retired from the military years ago, but he believes he deserves something for working in such a dangerous work environment. he's pushy, he won't stop pleading with you until he gets what he thinks he deserves, a sickening grin on his face after having his fun with a little waitress or bartender.
you're his newest obsession. he's bought your merchandise, grinds against the plushies that you sell. he'll rub his bulbous, leaking cock back and forth against the soft, cotton fabric until he's left cum stains all over it, listening to the audios you sell to those who pay for your subscription, the sound of your sweet voice leaving his boner swollen and sore. meeting you was a pleasure, but he's looking for something else.
you cut your time with him short because he was being ‘perverted’ and ‘creepy’, or at least that's what you claim. he's not being weird at all. he's doing what every other man is thinking about, at least he has the confidence to act like this. he'll follow you despite you pleading with him to just go home and forget about your promise to get him off afterwards, but a promise is a promise and könig isn't going anywhere ‘til he gets what he wants.
he pushes you to the wet concrete, the droplets of rain splashing against the cold ground, leaving your clothes wet and torn. könig pins you down using his strength and weight, a large hand around your throat gripping your nape tightly, threatening you to make sure you stay quiet. he rips your clothes off, exposing your soft body to him, your perky nipples and bare cunt. he forces his large, hung cock inside despite the tightness, his large hand silencing your muffled pleas and cries, hushing your protests with his guttural, deep growls and grunts drowning out the sound of your sorrows and fear.
crimson runs down your soft, supple thighs, smeared along your skin, soon to be marked with cuts and marks from könig's tight grip. he drives his sturdy and muscular hips into your body, your legs forcefully thrown over his shoulder to allow him to hit places you've probably never felt before. your eyes roll backwards and your body tenses up, unable to stop twitching and shaking at the painful, bleeding ache between your legs. you cry out pitifully, the sight of your tears tugging at his heartstrings, but not enough to convince him to leave you alone, or to at least go easy on you.
he pounds into your weak body while you wail out, the agonising sensation inside of your tight cunny leaving your breathless. your makeup is smudged from being slapped about and manhandled, as if you're a puppet on strings. he hunches over your form and slams into your soft folds, finally re-enacting his sickening, brutal desires and fantasies with the one he adores most. you're compliant with his orders by the end it, too scared to deny him and following him back to his apartment, only to be used as if you're a prostitute for days before you're let go.
255 notes · View notes
spider-pvnk · 4 months
Text
hobie & his monster high gf
punk rocker activist hobie brown and his gf that grew up loving monster high
- the correlation between the two sounds nonexistent, but just walk with me!!
- y/n & the same monster high that teaches kids that you should embrace everything that makes you odd, because it makes you you???
- and she takes this valuable lesson from her youth and ingrains it in everything about her???
- the way she dresses, the way she styles her hair, the way she treats literally everybody???
- you’re his bread and butter fr
- hobie & the cool looking girl from his old modeling agency, with the somewhat smudged dark eye makeup that just works for her, the one with a million rings and chains adorning her outfit, the funky hair that’s black and green one day, and bright pink the next time he sees her
- hobie & the cool looking girl from his old agency who quits a few months after he does because she refuses to represent an previously alternative agency that started demanding the same cookie cutter models as the rest
- hobie & the cool looking girl from his old agency who he spots after one of his shows and absolutely has to talk to her
- y/n, who’ll strike up a conversation with anyone about whatever because she’s just cool like that, and hobie falling into interesting, deep conversation like they’ve been friends for years
- hobie, who starts keeping an eye out, always searching for his new cool friend, who isn’t hard to spot at all because her style of dress just won’t allow it
- hobie and y/n, who quickly become hobie&y/n, feeling as though they’re meant to know each other, destined to be friends
- hobie, who’ll show up at y/n’s place at some wild hour of the night, bruised and bloody, and y/n who opens the window and asks no questions, but makes many comments
- hobie, who’s crashed on y/n’s couch so many times that he’s probably slept there more than at his own place, and y/n, who didn’t mind the first time it happened and doesn’t mind at all now
- the nights of him just crashing turn into fulling on sleepovers, during one of which where she introduces him to the scripture, aka ‘monster high: new ghoul @ school’, the movie that started the formation of her very philosophy
- hobie, who is now unironically a clawdeen stan
- hobie, who in the middle of ‘monster high: why do ghouls fall in love?’ asks if his cool best friend would like to go on a date, to which she agrees enthusiastically
- hobie & monster high loving y/n who fall into their romantic relationship just as easily, if not more, than their friendship
- hobie & his monster high gf, who he let’s practice make up looks on, sometimes leaving it on if he’s feeling it
- hobie & his monster high gf having a shared shoe collection because platforms and boots are staples in both of their wardrobes, but also ridiculously expensive
- hobie & his monster high gf, who have plenty of date nights that consist of solely styling each other in monster high coded outfits and binge watching the movies and webisodes
- hobie & his monster high gf, who’s eyes light up when he presents her with carefully crafted, homemade monster high merch
- hobie, who would make his monster high gf so many pins and patches and stickers, eventually she’d have more homemade monster high merch than official
- hobie & his monster high gf, who are each other’s biggest cheerleaders
309 notes · View notes
talaok · 7 months
Text
The mission
Pairing: Joel miller x reader
Summary: Joel is the boss of a group of criminals in the QZ, and you're his little bunny everyone knows better than to look at, and this time, you wanna help him on a mission.
warnings: smut| the tiniest smudge of fingering, unprotected p in v sex, exhibitionism (yes again. dont look at me) and of course daddy kink
this is the fourth part to this but it can be read alone
Tumblr media
"you want to what!?"
"I wanna help" you repeated, leaning back on his desk so you were right in front of where he was sitting.
"no"
"but-"
"absolutely not" he shook his head, not even listening to what you had to say.
You raised an eyebrow, getting ready to stand your ground.
"You need me" you said, making him look up at you, a mix of anxiety and frustration fogging his eyes.
"How would you even know?"
"David told me what you're planning to do"
You watched his fingers grip the edge of his chair to try and relieve some anger.
Fucking David. He was gonna have to teach him a lesson later.
"Still. We don't need you"
You huffed, crossing your arms,
"You need someone to distract the guard"
His eyes shut for a moment as he shrugged 
"I've got plenty of men who can do that"
A smug smirk tugged at your lips at his words "And that's exactly the problem"
You watched his brow arch in puzzlement
"You've got men" you explained "But what you need is a woman"
A chuckle fled his lips at your feeble attempt at convincing him "A man can distract a guard just fine, sweetheart"
"Yes" you agreed "But I could do it much better"
He leaned back in his chair, watching you closely.
"you could" he conceded "but not only would you distract the guard, but all my men. Me included"
You had to roll your eyes at that.
That must have been the worst excuse you'd ever heard
"You know I would be good at it" you continued 
"I know you would, baby, but you know I can't let you do that" he said, gentler now as his hand reached for your waist to draw slow patterns on it "You're too important, I can't let anything happen to you"
"but nothing has to happen to me, I just gotta distract a guard"
"it's still dangerous" he shook his head, "You've gotta understand baby, I-"
"please" you pouted, looking down at him with the best doe eyes you could muster
"bunny, I can't-"
That hadn't worked, so you had to retort to the only method you knew was fool-proof.
"please" you murmured again, placing your hands on his shoulder as you straddled his lap.
"please Daddy, just this once" you whispered, gently kissing his cheek before making your way to his neck.
"bunny..." he groaned, as his hands betrayed him and reached for your waist "I know what you're doing"
"'m not doing anything" you lied, going as far as grinding your core against his crotch while you kissed him right below his ear "I promise I'll be good"
"fuck- baby this ain't fair" he groaned again, his cock hardening in his jeans
"please daddy" you whimpered, passing a hand through his hair in that way you knew he loved "I'll do whatever you tell me to do" you promised "I'll follow all your instructions" The way your hot breath tickled his skin made him want to forget about everything and just take you right there and them "I'll be real good for you daddy"
And that was it.
He was 100% aware of having just been manipulated, but fuck- if you asked him with that sweet voice of yours, he would have agreed to jump off a cliff without a second thought.
"fuck me- fine" he sighed, inhaling your heavenly scent, as his fingers started already infiltrating underneath your top "But you're gonna do everythin' I tell you to do, ok? I don't wanna hear a single complaint"
Your grin resembled one of a child in a candy store
"yes daddy"
"and I know you don't like 'em but I'm givin' you a gun" he spoke, his attention not on your eyes but on your tits as he groped them underneath the fabric "we'll go over the basics again later" he spoke, before his gaze found yours, suddenly serious.
"and bunny, if anything goes wrong... if even one thing isn't how it's supposed to be, you run." he said "You get the fuck out of there, I don't care if it gets me and all my men killed. You save yourself first, we clear?"
You had to bite down the huge grin spreading on your face to try and at least look like you weren't jumping out of your skin in the excitement.
"Yes daddy" you nodded
"good" he murmured "Now c'mere you fuckin' smartass"
__ __ __
Joel had prepared you for the mission like you were about to go to war, you don't think he'd ever gone that long talking to you without touching some part of your body, and yet he'd spent a whole hour explaining to you what was gonna happen, and how everything was gonna proceed and most importantly, how no matter what, you had to "save yourself first"
But it was dumb really, your job was to do what you'd learned to do since you hit puberty: flirting with men to get what you want.
There's not a lot of ways a girl can survive on her own in a post-apocalyptic world, so the moment you understood the power you and your body held, you started using it to your advantage.
Which is why your task was a walk in the park.
The guard had forgotten all about what he was paid to do, which was paying attention to the security footage, from the moment you walked in, and all you needed to do was to put on a small little skirt and smile at everything he said.
There's only one thing men like more than a woman: a woman in distress.
Which is why you had made up this whole story about being new to the QZ and having gotten lost.
But hey thankfully, you'd stumbled upon this Fedra building and found "such a handsome, smart-looking man" that was more than eager to help you.
Joel and his crew had all the time in the world to steal whatever it was they were stealing, all the while you had fun.
You hadn't felt this ecstatic in years
You were basically skipping as you walked out of the building.
"there you are" you watched Joel breathe a sigh of relief as you walked over to where he was leaning on a black car "you got me scared for a moment bunny"
You frowned, peeking at the watch he'd insisted you wore.
"I was only one minute late"
He shook his head, grabbing your waist with both his hands to force you flush against him "and it was enough" he murmured, ignoring the fact that his whole crew was standing right beside you, and leaning in to kiss you as if he hadn't seen you for days.
You melted right into him, softly whimpering in his mouth when one of his hands traveled lower to grab one of your asscheeks.
You grinned widely as he leaned away, and he couldn't help but smile too watching that look on your face.
"get inside the car" he murmured, leaving another quick kiss on your lips before getting out of the way to open the door for you.
Surprisingly, he wasn't driving this time.
Just as you bent down to get inside, you heard him bark behind you at someone to his right "The fuck are you looking at?"
"N-nothing boss, I'm sorry"
Joel didn't answer, he only removed his hand from where he held his gun and got inside the car with you, shutting the door behind him.
You watched through the windshield, as the poor guy put a hand on his chest, probably checking if it was still beating.
"you scared him" you half scolded, half cooed as you wasted no time scooting closer to him
A soft smirk pulled at his lips as his thumb reached for your cheek to stroke it 
"what a shame" he murmured, kissing you.
As the kiss heated, his tongue infiltrating into your mouth as you moaned into his, you felt his hands take hold of your waist to guide you on top of him, and you gladly complied.
"hey there" you smiled
"hey b-"
An awkward cough made its way to both his ears
"Should I... give you some space?" the guy at the wheel asked.
Funny, you hadn't even noticed he was there.
"who's gonna drive the car if you do that?" Joel huffed a laugh 
"I just though-"
"start driving" Joel interrupted, already focused on you again "and keep your eyes on the road"
"yes boss"
And just like that, the car was moving.
"You don't mind Pike being here do you bunny? he's very discreet"
"I don't mind daddy" you murmured, not resisting anymore as you latched your mouth to that irresistible neck of his.
Just like every time you were in his arms, his scent and warmth wrapped around you like magic.
"good" he smiled, losing himself in your touch for a moment before he remembered something.
"What was the guy's name bunny?"
"mh?" you frowned, looking up at him confused.
"the guard, darlin', what was his name?"
You arched a brow as your left hand went to his hair as you inspected his face.
"why?" you asked suspiciously
"I'll need to take care of him"
"Daddy he didn't do anything wrong" you whispered, trying to reason with him.
"he looked at you didn't he?"
you couldn't help but roll your eyes "he needed to look at me to be able to talk to me"
"yeah but I'm sure he was doing a lot more than talking in that brain of his"
"daddy" you murmured, as your index finger traced his jaw "you can't kill every guy I come across on every mission "
"every mission? who said this is happening again?" he tilted his head, a soft amusement shining in his eyes
"I did"
"oh bunny," he smiled as he shook his head" this was a one-time thing"
But you both knew it really wasn't up to him.
Yes, he was his crew's boss, but you were the boss's boss.
"we'll see" You shut him up, crashing your mouth with his in a frenzy of clashing teeth and tongues.
The mission had gotten you so worked up you'd been wet since he first kissed you.
You couldn't help but grind on him to relieve some of the tension that had created between your thighs, before losing your patience and just deciding to get to the real thing.
He was groping your ass with one hand while the other busied itself with your tits when your left hand sneaked down his torso to find that hard tent straining from his jeans.
"Actually..." he breathed, as you undid his belt as quickly as you could "If this is what you going on missions gets me, I think I might have to take back what I said "
You let out a small giggle at that, "I thought you might say that"
He smiled too, but his mouth was back on yours as quickly as it had parted, tasting all that you would give him.
You made quick work of his zipper, and eagerly freed his cock from his boxers, making him groan loudly.
"fuck bunny" he breathed, glancing down to where you were stroking his cock with those heavenly soft hands of yours.
The fact that Pike was not even two meters away from you wasn't remotely crossing your minds.
You mimicked him and looked down at his manhood, and god it looked so delicious, but as much as you wanted a taste there wasn't really that much space for maneuver in the back of this car, and to be completely honest there was also the fact that your pussy had been screaming for any type of attention for some time now so-
"spit" 
You hadn't even realized his hand was in front of your mouth, but the moment you did, you complied.
You watched as that same now spit-filled hand made its way underneath your skirt and panties in no time.
He slathered the liquid all around your folds, making you squirm uncontrollably, before, without any type of warning, plunging two of his thick fingers deep inside your heat.
"daddy!" 
"she's ready" he decided, continuing to watch you as you slowly raised yourself to sink down on his cock.
"o-oh my god" you whimpered as your head fell to the crook of his neck.
He was stretching you so good... and god, but he was so deep
"fuck baby" he groaned, both his hands now on your ass to squeeze it however he pleased, "feel fucking perfect"
You softly smiled at that, kissing up his neck as you started moving with the help of his hands, which guided your movements a bit.
"I was good wasn't I?" you whispered onto his pulse point, before gently sucking on it
"the best" he promised, groaning a bit as you fastened your pace "my precious little bunny" he praised into your ear "always such a good girl"
The sound that was spreading around the car was filthy, but all either of you could think about was the other.
Your fingers were grabbing at the hair at the nape of his neck, while your other hand was grasping his shoulder for dear life as you bounced up and down on his cock.
"jesus you're so tight sugar" he groaned as you bit down on a spot on his neck "So perfect" he continued, watching you pleasure yourself on his dick "So beautiful" 
Your clit was grinding against his crotch and it was only making you reach your climax faster 
"and so fucking smart" he murmured "You're amazing bunny, you really are"
what before were soft breathy moans whispered in his ear, had now quickly evolved to higher and louder cries that were making poor Pike want to die.
"f-fuck daddy" you whimpered, leaning your forehead onto his to look at him in the eyes 
"you coming bunny?"
"mh-mh" was all you could muster
"yeah? then come for me baby" he ordered "Come around my cock"
And just like that, You did, you came, screaming his name at the top of your lungs as your movements got more and more sloppy
"Thank you daddy" was the only coherent sentence that came out of your mouth as your orgasm took over your body
"Whatever you want bunny" he promised, watching mesmerized as you came apart before him "fuck-whatever you want, you know that"
And you did know that, because as he'd proven times and times again, for you, there wasn't one thing he wouldn't do.
__
if you wanna read more of Bunny and Joel → here
748 notes · View notes