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trohpi · 2 days

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regulily microfic [cross-posted on ao3]

@marauders-rarepair-fics • june 3: slytherin • 769 words

“Are you alright?” a curious voice breaks the careful silence in the secluded corner of the library.

Regulus flinches and ducks his head, quickly wiping at his tear-stained cheeks. “I’m fine.”

“You really don’t look it.” The intruder— because that’s what they are, Regulus thinks bitterly— has an accent. Irish, or maybe Scottish, he can’t quite tell.

“Well, I am,” he replies tightly. “So go away.”

“Mm, I don’t think I will,” the stranger says promptly before plopping down on the floor next to him. Regulus’ brow furrows in indignation and he whips his head up with a fierce glare, finally getting a good look at whoever had the gall to encroach on his space.

The first thing he notices is how pretty she is.

The girl is his age, or maybe a little older, and she’s wearing a Gryffindor tie. The colours draw out the deep reds of her auburn hair, which is pulled into a simple braid that falls over her shoulder. Her head is tilted as she looks at him searchingly, though when they make eye contact she smiles, her jade eyes bright and keen.

“Hello,” she says, sticking her hand out to shake. “I’m Lily Evans, second year. I don’t recognise you, so you must be a first year, right?”

Regulus ignores her hand. “I said go away.”

“I know.” She drops her hand back into her lap. “What’s your name?”

“I don’t see how that’s any of your business,” he sniffs haughtily, though the effect is rather ruined by his teary eyes and splotchy cheeks.

“It became my business when I stumbled upon you crying in my spot in the library.”

It is moments like this that Regulus curses his pale skin, which turns a mortifying shade of red at her words. “Oh, your spot? Pardon me, I didn’t realise Madam Pince gave you ownership of these particular bookshelves.”

Lily levels him a stern look. “This corner is pretty much abandoned. My best mate and I are the only people ever back here regularly, so yeah, it’s my spot.”

“Typical Gryffindors, thinking the whole world revolves around the two of you,” Regulus says, fiddling with his sleeve in embarrassment.

“My best mate is a Slytherin,” she corrects, and Regulus’ whole world stops.

A Slytherin? Best friends with a Gryffindor…?

“What?” he asks dumbly, and Lily huffs impatiently.

“He’s not in Gryffindor, he’s in Slytherin.”

“And you’re still friends with him?”

Lily blinks at him for a second before some wave of understanding passes through her face and she softens.

“Of course I am. His House doesn’t change who he is.”

Regulus swallows thickly, looking away. “My brother said he hates me because I’m in Slytherin, and he’s in Gryffindor.”

“Well, your brother’s an idiot,” Lily says bluntly. “Anyone that hates people because of their House is a fool.”

Something in Regulus’ chest warms and he lets out a wet-sounding laugh, wiping at his eyes. “Well, Sirius has always been a bit thick.”

“Sirius?” Lily blinks, sitting upright in shock. “Your brother is Sirius Black?”

“Er, yeah. I’m Re—”

“Regulus, I know. Black wouldn’t shut up about his baby brother finally starting school the entire ride here.”

“Oh, lovely,” Regulus sighs, face warming for an entirely different reason now. He closes his eyes and leans his head back against the bookshelf behind him. “He’s both humiliated and disowned me within my first few days of school.”

There’s a moment of contemplative silence before Lily declares, “I’ve got to smack some sense into your brother.”

Regulus’ eyes fly open in horror.

“Wha— No!” he exclaims, scrambling off the floor to follow a fiercely determined Lily, who is already standing as she smooths out the wrinkles of her skirt.

“Someone has to. He cares about you, he’s just too pigheaded to see that,” she turns to Regulus, her green gaze fiery and brilliant and piercing in a way that makes him want to squirm. “Besides, that’s what friends are for, right?”

Regulus’ gut swoops. Is that what they are? Friends? He’s never had any friends— not if you don’t count Kreacher— but he’s also never felt like this about anyone, so he assumes they must be.

He nods once, just for a second, a quick show of acceptance for the hand she’s clearly extending. Lily beams at him and her smile is intense and warm, just like the rest of her.

“Brilliant. Be back in a jiff, then.”

Regulus blinks, his mind piecing together the meaning behind her words just in time for her to leave their secluded space. Then, he’s chasing after her.

“Wait, Lily, don’t…!”

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chuluoyi · 5 months

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✎ rivals... in love?

- gojo satoru x reader

gojo is in shambles—so suguru might have a crush on you too?

genre: high school!gojo being a menace but pls spare him he just can't take losing, you see... crack, totally jealous!gojo, justice for geto, enemies to lovers, fluff

note: people have been asking for this so this is up next! i'm writing this while listening to bigbang's bang bang bang and fantastic baby so if gojo is a bit unhinged... you know why

a part of gojo's love entries

series masterlist | oneshot masterlist

No way. There is just no way.

Satoru felt his eyes itch and twitch uncomfortably. Despite the opaque black tint of his sunglasses, he could still distinctly see you happily giggling.

“Geto-san, that’s so funny!”

With Suguru. His ride or die. Your massive crush.

Your crisp laughter rang in his ears, scorching his ego and igniting it in flames—that was precisely the reaction he had hoped to receive from you too!

"Aren't they just cute?" Yaga was suddenly beside him with a wistful smile, looking at you and his other student a few feet away. "What do the television say again... a perfect match? In this case, a perfect match made in jujutsu school, then."

And responding to your bubbly self, creating the very picture of perfect match made in jujutsu school indeed, Suguru was every bit as enthusiastic. “Nah, wait until you see this—”

"Perfect match my ass," Satoru grumbled outwardly, rolling his eyes, but he immediately dashed away before his teacher could bonk him in the head for cussing.

It was harmless conversation, or jokes, or whatever. Because Suguru couldn't possibly reciprocate your feelings. His type is women of gravure magazines—Satoru had deemed it as such.

…Right?

At this point, he wasn't in enough denial to say that he didn't like you, because he had made it so clear that he was, in fact, obsessed. He wasn’t shying away from the things he did, which included annoying you constantly, asking you out after school, helping you in missions, and sending you few pick up lines here and there.

And he thought he was certain he could whisk you off your feet. After all, who else could measure up to him and win?

Heh, no one.

(or basically that's just him ignoring the intrusive little voice in his mind that whispered, “Suguru!”)

“So what's with the nice act, huh?” Satoru blew his bangs in a huff as he questioned his best friend with a twinge of dissatisfaction. “Do you like her or something?”

Suguru quirked his eyebrow at him. “What?”

“Don’t play dumb. I have noticed how you two have been joined at the hip lately,” and with deliberate intention to spite his best friend, he made the sourest face as he mockingly recited, “Wait till you see this~”

Instantly realizing what he meant, Suguru burst into a loud snicker. “Come on, Satoru, really? Surely you aren't that petty. We were just chatting—”

“Not that. I know. What I'm asking now is that do you like her or not?”

It wasn't a rare sight to see Satoru with a pout and a frown, and usually he'd humor him. But this time, even Suguru could see that there was something different in the way he asked this. And should he say something that irked him then—

“Heh, so what if I am?”

That's the wrong answer.

Satoru halted abruptly, whipping his head around in sheer shock. "What the heck?"

“She’s a nice junior, kind, easy on the eyes,” Suguru shrugged, flashing him a dauntless smile. “Only a fool would let the chance pass up. Satoru, if you keep dawdling, one of these days, I just might—”

“Wha—hey!? That’s totally foul—!”

“Nah, they do say all is fair in love and war now, isn’t it?”

By a mind-boggling twist of events, apparently his best friend was also a guy after his dream girl. Satoru was irked, challenged, and he would never admit it, but a tiny part of him recoiled because Suguru clearly had an early start and a boost—you favored him first.

This was unexpected, and now he was conjuring up various scenarios of what he should do. He must act fast or else...

Little did he know that Suguru was thoroughly relishing his restlessness.

Everyone around you said that your relationship with Gojo Satoru... is intriguing to say the least. And especially ever since that one botched mission you two went, you also felt there was a shift in your dynamics.

And if by intriguing they mean him constantly blocking your way and invading your space, then yes, it definitely is.

"Okay, okay, but wait, just hear me out!"

You halted your steps and faced him with an annoyed frown. You really had no time for this. You were about to be sent on a mission. "Gojo, really, can't you just—"

"Okay, I know he's dashing, or whatever," he huffed, the last word he said with a hint of disdain. "But hear me out, and I'm sure you'll reconsider."

"Who are you talki—"

"Who else!? Suguru, of course!"

You couldn't possibly arch your eyebrow even higher, and before you could say anything, he somehow took it as his cue to keep going.

“First, he eats curses. Cursed spirits! He eats them like rice balls! Can you imagine just how foul the taste is?”

"Gojo, I don't have the time—"

"Then! Going from that, just imagine kissing him," he stressed, eyeing you intensely as your own eyes felt like popping out by the sheer suggestion. "What if you taste the cursed spirits rice ball?"

"You're unbeliev—"

"Wait! Can you even kiss him? What if his cursed spirits suddenly pop out of him? Are you willing to kiss his little friends—"

"He's your best friend!" you finally interjected, obviously and utterly in shock by his unhinged rambling. "How could you say all of that?"

"No, you're getting me wrong." Satoru's clicked his tongue. "I'm just listing facts why it's better for you not to end up with him."

You barked a dry laugh. "And? Better with you, you mean? That's awfully biased."

"Why yes of course! Self-promo is never bad," he blatantly retorted. "Let me just tell you aallll you need to know about me!"

He audibly cracked his knuckles and puffed out his chest. "You know already, I'm strong. I can protect you well. My cursed technique doesn't involve eating curses, so you don't have to worry about tasting the said curses on my lips."

How could he blurt all of this with that perpetually playful expression? A chuckle escaped you unwittingly and that only spurred him to go on.

"And I'm handsome!" he boldly claimed, pointing at his face with pride. "And obviously I don't need to say this, but I'm filthy rich—"

At that, you burst into hearty laughter, unable to hold it in any longer.

Satoru's eyes sparkled, lit as if someone had just made his day. "All in all, you know what I mean. Everything with me, all of it is going to be fantastic!"

Even you couldn't deny that all of this exchange had been so amusing. Hilariously so. "You're down bad, huh?" you tried to taunt, although it seemed like a burst of snicker. Yet, you were caught off-guard when he said:

"For you?" his little smirk made your insides suddenly all jumbled up. "Yes."

Huh? What is this? Your bravado faltered a bit as your heart did a somersault inside.

It wasn't supposed to thump this hard. You weren't supposed to feel this overwhelming urge to squeal too. And your face wasn't supposed to grow this hot...

Seeing that, Satoru celebrated his little win, a wicked smile on his glistening lips—that somehow looked rather attractive to you now. "How? Thinking twice now, are we?"

But he couldn't believe that after all this, you would still cunningly retort with, "Ha! You wish, Gojo Satoru."

His stunned face was so comical that you chuckled once again. You wanted to rebuff him more, but before you could, Haibara's voice called you from a distance. "Heeey! Let's go! Or we're gonna be late!"

"I suppose that's my cue," you lightly shrugged, and before you left him in a dust, you could've sworn you saw a flicker of brewing tantrum behind those glasses, which brought a smirk on your face. "See ya, try harder, and I might look at your way."

Satoru was at his wit's end as he saw you sauntering away. What more that he could do so that you could be his? To keep your eyes on him and him only?

And yet, little did he know, in that beginning of summer in 2006, even before you realized it yourself, you had already did.

Epilogue

In another corner of the school, eagerly spying on you were...

"Wait! Can you even kiss him? What if his cursed spirits suddenly pop out of him? Are you willing to kiss his little friends—"

"Did he just..." Suguru gaped, utterly in disbelief at what his own best friend said of him. "Did he just say that?"

Shoko let out a satisfied guffaw. "Oh, he definitely did."

"I can't believe he's tarnishing my name over a girl."

"Well, you know very well he could do way worse than that just to get what he wants," she threw him a thin smile, while exhaling a puff of smoke. "And hey, you lose. You gotta pay me."

Suguru turned to her in surprise. "Huh? Oh—oh, darn it. Shoko, can't you be less stingy?"

"Well, whose bright idea was it to pull that stunt on him and bet on whether Gojo would approach her in less than a day?"

-> continue to extended cut !

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luveline · 1 year

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spoilers for spider-man: across the spider-verse below

please don’t read any further if you are avoiding spoilers

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐞 | 𝐦𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐥 𝐨’𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚

miguel hops dimensions expecting a new family, and a new life. he’s not expecting you —featuring a tired miguel and his confused but adoring wife. or, miguel gets the comfort he so desperately needs. requested here. fem!reader, 2.5k

tw. gun mention/no graphic scenes

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

Miguel seems different when he comes home that night. You've loved him for years, you know his face. He looks slightly younger and older at the same time, impossibly so. He looks like he has bad news and he doesn't want to tell you. Something harrowing. How else can you explain his expression?

You stand up from the dinner table. "Hey," you say gently. "Is there something wrong?"

He isn't convincing when he answers, "What? Uh, no. Nothing's wrong."

"Something looks wrong."

You step in front of him and lift your chin. Usually, he'd look down with a smirk, or at the very least a smile, but he seems weary. You lift your hand to his cheek, pinching it between your fingers without malice.

"Smile, handsome. You have a lovely smile."

He smiles. His lips part just slightly. "You… you really love me. You're happy."

"We're happy," you correct. "Me, you, and Gabs forever, right?"

"Gabs?" he asks.

"Don't start with me. Gabriella's a mouthful. A beautiful mouthful," you concede. "I still think we should've named her Sofia. And yeah, Miguel. I love you. Really really. Don't forget it."

You make him sit at the kitchen table. It's a selfish manoeuvre; you want him to sit so you can actually reach his hair. Your husband is the tallest man you've ever met.

"Did you get a haircut?" you ask, running your fingers through his hair slowly. He shivers at your touch, and tilts his head back in question. "You did. That's such a betrayal, my love. I've been cutting your hair for going on six years now, I'm suddenly not good enough?"

"You're good enough," he says. He really sounds so strange.

"I'm joking. Miguel, if there's something wrong, you really need to tell me. I can make it better. Well, I can try." You bite your lip, unnerved by his quiet, solemn air.

"Am I being weird?" he asks.

"No," you say, worried he thinks you're judging him. You never would. (He's being really weird.) "Of course not, you're just quiet tonight, that's all. Did you have a bad day at work?"

"I– I got mugged. On the way home from work. I forgot the– the milk."

"You what?" you ask, eyes widening in shock. Miguel's kind of gigantic. You've always said that you pity the fool who tries it, but apparently he's less hardy than you thought. A mugging explains his weird behaviour these last five minutes, at least. "What happened? Sweetheart, are you okay?"

You take his face into both hands. He has dark circles under his eyes and a scratch along his jaw, but he seems unhurt. You suppose being attacked would age you instantaneously too.

"Miguel, are you in shock? Should I take you to the hospital?"

"I'm okay. I just feel strange."

"Are you sure?” He nods hurriedly. You purse your lips. “I'll make you something warm to drink, that'll help. As long as you're not hurt, right? Did he take your wallet? We'll have to cancel your credit card."

Miguel catches your shirt before you can go too far.

"Hm?" you hum in question.

Miguel visibly deliberates. His eyebrows lift ever so slightly. "Could I hug you?"

The hurting and worry you have for him intensify before falling on the back-burner. You can shove your own feelings aside easily if he needs comforting.

"I don't think you have to ask me," you say, offering your arms.

Miguel is usually a short but meaningful hugger. You've hugged so many times and in what feels like every place on earth, and he's such a tall man that even if he doesn't mean for them to be, his arms are all encompassing.

It surprises you that this hug is different. He's tentative. When his hand falls to the small of your back it slots into place, and you can feel his relief like a palpable thing.

"You’re okay," you say, your lips at his crown, your legs between his.

He's keeping space between you, and you don't like it. You press yourself as close to him as possible, your arms behind his shoulders, cupping the back of his head. Soft hair tickles your palm.

"Was it scary?"

"Was what scary?" he asks. You don't mention his little sniff. He's smelling your hair.

"Being mugged? Did he have a gun?"

"Yeah, he did."

"Oh, I see. There's no shame in being scared, you know that?"

"I'm not scared. I wasn't scared when it happened. I just wanted to come home to you."

You frown. His admission is like a barb in your chest, aimed true for your heart. "I'm so glad you did," you confess against his forehead, a murmur of sound. "So, so glad. I don't know what I'd do without you."

You kiss his head three times in a row. The last kiss lingers, his arms slackening around you.

You pull away, not wanting to smother him. Whoever's watching knows he's had enough of you these last few years.

"Where–" Miguel clears his throat. "Where's Gabriella?"

"She's in her room. Call her."

You're hoping time with her will bring him back into focus. He's clearly more affected by this than he's willing to say. You don't know how you feel about it. Terrified, because you could've lost him. Euphoric that you didn't. You'd had this funny feeling all day long, and it's weird, you’d felt that something bad happened, a moment at the sink with Gabriella singing in her room, the clock ticking on the wall. Miguel late, but promising to bring the groceries you needed home with him before dinner.

"Gabriella?" he calls up the stairs. You watch from the stove.

You'll grab the pan and make him some hot cocoa. Just as soon as he stops looking scared.

"Daddy?" Gabriella asks back. She's audibly ecstatic, and her footsteps are a stampede from her bedroom. You can see her from the kitchen when she gets to the bottom of the stairs. "Dad, pick me up!"

"Oh, right," Miguel says, leaning down to hold her.

He pulls her with all the grace of an elephant to his chest, and she nearly chins him.

"Woah, careful."

"Dad, you're super late. Mom said I can yell at you for being late."

"You can yell at me, if you want to." He gives her a curious look. "I'm sorry for taking so long."

Gabriella tilts her head to the side, dark hair shifting. She's a gorgeous little girl and her dad can't withstand it, melting as you hoped he would, the taut string of his back finally cut in two.

"I don't want to yell at you," she whispers.

"Good, because I don't want you to yell," he whispers back.

Gabriella leans back in his arms and giggles thickly. He almost drops her, and has to readjust his hold on her back.

"I'm so happy you're home!" she cheers, bringing her little hands up together from her chest and thrusting them out like fireworks. "You work too much! I thought doctors was s'posed to make everyone better and go home."

"I'm not that kind of doctor," he says.

You turn from where you've brought cocoa powder and milk to an emulsified simmer on the stovetop and beam at him. It's your favourite thing in the whole world when she mixes it up. Ever since she found his ID card with DR. written clear as day before his name, she's been under the impression that he works at the general hospital. Alchemex might break medical thresholds, but it is far from a hospital.

"Are you having hot cocoa with your dad?" you ask Gabriella.

She gasp in excitement and lists toward you. Miguel almost drops her for a second time. "Yes, oh my gosh!"

"Well, come and sit. What mug?"

Gabriella can't decide on what mug she wants; there's the orange cat with too many whiskers, there's the black one with bright white stars. After some deliberation, she decides on her and Miguel's matching daddy-daughter mugs.

"You're having some too, right?" he asks you.

"Don't I always?" you ask. "Though I do want to protest the mugs. Where's my mug? Don't I deserve number one mom?" You kiss the top of Gabriella's head where she languishes in Miguel's lap, before placing their hot cocoa down far from her arm's reach. "It's hot."

Miguel doesn't touch his. You blow cold air at Gabriella's and dip your fingertip into it periodically, content to spend some time with them both in amicable quiet. Gabriella just loves him to pieces, and she leans back in his arms with her eyes closed, basking in his closeness.

She squints at you with one eye. "Dad?"

Miguel doesn't answer. You nudge his foot.

"What?" he asks.

"You're not doing the thing."

"The thing?"

You frown.

"Yeah, dad." She huffs and curls his arm manually across her front. "Please, I want the kisses."

He looks at you, completely lost. You're feeling similarly confused. "She wants you to kiss her hair," you say, wondering if perhaps he's suffering from stress related amnesia.

He leans down carefully and kisses her hair. It's not the usual enthusiastic kiss, and he doesn't bother blowing in her ear after.

Gabriella glares at him. "My ear!"

"Blow in her ear," you mouth.

He blows gently into her ear. She shivers, shudders, and laughs up a storm.

When the cocoa's been drunk and the mugs washed and put away, Gabriella races upstairs, promising to return with a storybook and the drawing she made earlier in the day once she’s changed into her pyjamas. Miguel looks less lost than he had. In fact, he looks normal. The warm drink has put colour in his cheeks, and his daughter's cuddles have done their job. He's relaxed. He's forgotten the fear of the mugging, you're almost sure of it.

You waver beside him. "Can I sit with you, or am I too heavy?"

"Why would you be too heavy?" he asks.

"You always say I'm too heavy," you say, sitting down on his thighs. They feel solid, a little different from usual. Miguel works out, but this is strange. He must be more tense than you thought. "It's your worst joke."

"I'm sorry. I won't say it if it upsets you," he says, his voice rough and low.

"Who said anything about that?" He's never called you heavy to be cruel.

"Sorry," he apologises again. "I think all the excitement today messed me up."

You spread your fingers wide across his chest, his heart beating a surface below. "It's okay. You don't have to react any one way…" You rub the tip of your nose against his jaw lightly. "I'm so glad you're okay. I had this weird feeling like something bad happened to you, you know?"

Miguel laughs and coughs at the same time. It borders on being distressed. He's really worrying you. "You did?" he asks.

"Mm-hm. But you're okay." You work hard to sound sure.

His hand slides between your legs, fingertips digging into the soft inside of your upper thigh, though it doesn't stay there. He pulls away, looking flustered. "Sorry."

"For what?" You blink.

"I don't know."

You laugh and press a kiss to the column of his throat, your nose squished against him. "I was thinking we'd watch that new movie tonight, with Harry Woodson, but it has guns and stuff. Would that still be okay?"

He puts his hand behind your ear and guides your head back to look you in the eye. It's a familiar touch. He looks like himself again, though you truly are offended by his haircut. Maybe something happened at work and fried it off.

"You're really something special," he says quietly.

"How so?"

His face softens with your flirting tone. "You're kind. You're so kind. I've never met someone like you."

"What are you talking about?" you mumble. It's your turn to feel flustered, jellified by the earnestness lining his features.

"You're sweet, and soft, and so pretty," he says, matching your tone. He's looking at you like he's seeing you for the first time.

You understand the feeling. Sometimes you look at him and can't believe he's your love.

"Soft," you repeat. "Are you trying to say something?"

"Like that. That joke. You don't even sound mad."

"You don't have to be so amazed. I've been like this since we met, haven't I? I'm hardly ever angry with you." You follow down from his eye to his jaw with your knuckle, tracing a tear he hasn't shed. He's spun you into thoughtfulness, and more than that —reverential fondness for him aches in the very centre of your stomach.

"I must have some good luck," he says.

His near death experience has inspired a wave of sappiness.

You lean in until your forehead touches his, giving him time to close his eyes or lean away if he wants to.

"I love you," you say simply. "You're not lucky, you're amazing, and all this good you see in me? I see it in you, O'Hara." You huff a laugh, breath fanning over his top lip as you steal a wonky kiss. You pull back. "You're sure–"

Miguel kisses you. His hand flies to the back of your neck and his lips are eager, his head tilted to one side to accommodate your nose. He deepens the kiss and it's a mess, really, nothing like his usual kisses, no practised ease, nor confident touches. His fingertips push at the hairs lining the nape of your neck as though he's not sure what to do with his hand. It's like kissing him for the very first time.

It's not a bad kiss.

You kiss back slowly. You're the steadying constant to his hotheadedness, in kissing and in everything else, pulling time into an endless stretch of his mouth under yours, his body heat seeping into your skin.

The sharp point of a tooth catches your bottom lip. You gasp into his mouth and flinch away from him.

"Um, ouch? What was that, handsome, did you get your teeth filed to spikes?" you ask, probing your lip, a flood of giggles slipping between your fingers.

He looks at you like you've lit the sky one star at a time.

"Sorry," he says. "I'll be more careful, I swear."

"Sure," you laugh. "Well, you'll have to be more careful later. You promised Gabriella you'd read her the Wishing Tree, and she's expecting a performance. Voices included."

He adjusts you in his lap with more strength than you knew he had. "Will you help?"

You'll always help him. He doesn't even need to ask.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed!!

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etheries1015 · 11 months

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How TWST characters react to finding out your real name

They hadn't realized you were using a fake name or a nickname, and when they find out you hadn't told them your real name, they each reacted in their own way.

Featuring : Idia, Lilia, Crowley, Ace/deuce/grim (together) , Azul/jade/Floyd (together), Malleus, Epel, Rook, Vil, Kalim, Jamil

Idia - Fair. Its like using a fake in game name only in real life, who needs to know your real name? It's not that important, it doesn't change that you're still you. But he is glad that you trusted him with your real name, but now he's a little possessive, and doesn't like it when other people use your real name. Its HIS privilege to know the you behind the character! (He wants his y/n moment and he gets some sort of fulfillment knowing he was the first to learn your true name. Like he's in some sort of otome game)

Lilia- he raises an eyebrow and has an amused smile on his face. He wasn't expecting you to feel the need to hide your identity, were you some sort of refugee? Hiding from something? You then explain to him you simply didnt feel comfortable sharing your real name with a bunch of strangers since coming to twisted wonderland, and he was easily able to accept that answer. He calls you by whatever name you prefer, it makes no difference to him, and he quickly gets over it. (If he wants to get your attention and tease you, he will use your real name)

Malleus- A little bit...hurt, in a way? You couldn't trust him with your real name? He knew others thought he was scary and didnt trust him for his lineage, however he had to remind himself that you were different than them. You were kind and understanding, and he had to push back his childish thinking. He did the same thing in fact, hiding his name from you until learning far after your meeting. Perhaps you had your reasons as well, and he respects that, and warms his heart slightly coming to terms that you had entrusted him with that information. He uses whatever name you feel the most at ease of hearing, but there will be times in which you two are alone and he gets in his feelings. Hearing your name sound so sincere and loving coming from his lips makes it sound sweeter than you remember.

Azul + the Leech brothers- Shocked. Flabbergasted. You did it in such a cool way too, you signed his contract using a name he wasn't familiar with. "You are aware that using a fake name won't do you any good, Right?" He had pointed out. You gave him a smirk and crossed your arms, "Who says its fake? In fact, the name I signed is indeed my REAL name. I thought I might as well use my real name, to show how confident I am that your little tricks will not fool me." Jade simply smiled and nodded in approval, whilst Floyd began laughing hysterically at Azuls reaction (his mouth hung open. He just convinced himself you had an inflated ego.) Needless to say, they will not forget that moment in a while.

Crowley- Blames you and says "Well of course I couldn't find your records anywhere or continue with my investigation on your case, you didnt even give me an accurate name to go by!" (In reality he wasn't doing anything to help you, he just thought this gave him an out and more time to think of something. You knew this.) The gaslighting king, and good at making you feel bad for not enrolling into the school by providing your full real name. You rolled your eyes and kept doing what you were doing (slay)

Kalim- he gets super excited, and fully respects you by any name you go by. He showers you in compliments and says its such a nice and fitting name for a person such as yourself. He smiles brightly and locks arms with you; "(fake name) or (real name), they both suit you well! You're still the prefect I love, regardless of what name you use!" .... But then he starts to ask you why, and it turns into an hour long conversation about names. (Probably tries to suggest names that would suit you)

Jamil- A little surprised at first, however he never made a big deal out of it and didnt care much. He shrugged and continued using the name you had given him, its what you chose to go by, is it not? So he will continue to do so. (Inwardly he understands why you hid your true identity, but also thinks its silly in a way. Why would you go so long without sharing something as small as a name? But it was a one time thought, and never dwelled on those questions.)

Vil- Also doesn't make a big deal out of it. Your name suits you well, he will ask what you prefer to go by, however. If you aren't comfortable using your real name, who is he to judge? He asks you once about why you chose to use a fake name, and he respected it. "Or I can just call you prefect, if you prefer? Your title precedes your name, and it's a form of respect. How does that sound?" You chuckle and say that you trust him enough to be on a first name base, and he responds with a slight blush. You really know how to see past his professionalism.

Rook- Add it to his list of things he knows about people and probably knows too much about people. He stores it in his mind along side with your weight, your height, your frequented places in the school, your gym scores, the height you can jump, how fast you finish your lunch, how big your hand is, your shoe size, how many hairs are on your head... "magnifique! I just love learning new things about you, it never ceases to amaze the mysteries you hold! Please, tell me more!"

Epel- A little bit disappointed you hadn't told him sooner. He gets over it quickly, but he was still a little upset to hear that he was one of the last people to find out what your real name is! Not that it truly matters, but a persons name is a persons treasure, and he wanted a part of the great reveal! (It wasn't THAT great. It came up casually, he's just a little sentimental and dramatic sometimes.) He ends up carving your name out of an apple, he says he made it cause' he was bored and no other reason, but in reality he really likes your name more than he leads on.

Ace/deuce/Grim- What do you MEAN that the past year they have been calling you by a FAKE/NICKNAME This entire time?? Do you have that little faith in them???? When you explained to them you had simply rolled with it when you first arrived to twisted wonderland and became accustomed to it, the name flowed off your tongue as natural as breathing. It had nothing to do with trust as time went on. They were all so dramatic about it though. "Our Prefect LIED to us!" They cried out, prostrating themselves on the floor and demanding you buy them food in to compensate 'the emotional damages' they claimed you inflicted upon them. You rolled your eyes and laughed playfully as the three of them whined about your "distrust" in them.

You loved them nonetheless, those morons 💜

---

A link to my master list!

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imrllytootiredforthis · 2 months

Text

The ‘bad’ kind of desire

pairing: soobin x reader

synopsis: you can't touch him, because he's too innocent, too sweet. but god you wish you could.

warnings: implied fem reader (can't remember if it's outright said), dom reader, sub soobin, masturbation, fingering, lowkey corruption kink, mentioned mommy kink, think that's really it

a/n: the first portion of this fic has been in my drafts since roughly july last year and was in my notes app for a few months - at least - longer than that so don't even ask me how old this really is, but at least it's out!!😭

“Am I bad person?”

Beomgyu scoffs, looking at you with eyebrows raised. He nearly laughs at the ridiculous statement coming from your mouth.

"What?"

And that makes him lose it, unable to even hold it back as he barks out a laugh, looking at you as if you've grown a second head.

It’s a hard thing to fathom coming from you given that you’ve definitely never had any qualms about your morality when it comes to this kind of stuff. “Really? You’re asking me that?”

His best friend sits across the room, oblivious to the conversation, his headphones pulled over his ears, the game he’s playing flashing on the computer screen in front of him.

Soobin.

Sweet sweet Soobin, messy blonde hair left unbrushed, pajamas still on, not bothering to change as this was all he was planning to do all day.

Sweet Soobin who you can’t help but want to play with.

Who you can’t help but imagine how pretty he’d look with tears in his eyes.

"I'm not fucking around Gyu-am I a bad person?"

You groan and flop over on the couch, rolling over to rest your head in Beomgyu’s lap, looking up at him with a comically-in his opinion-concerned expression.

He gives you nothing but an exaggerated eye-roll. "Don't even start."

“But aren’t I?” You look again at the boy across the room, wondering why, why he had to be so stupidly adorable. His lips were twisted into a small pout and why it was so fucking cute.

Why? You wondered, feeling like this was all you were doing nowadays.

Beomgyu resists the urge to roll his eyes at you for the second time in a row, now at the way that you look at his best friend like some kind of lovesick fool, especially considering that all you really wanted was get into his pants. It didn’t really make sense, but hey, who was he to judge?

“Why? Just because you want to rock his shit? Step on him and make him cry? That makes you question your morality? Out of everything that you've done?”

You gasp, slapping his chest. “He’s right there.” You hiss, not exactly denying the words.

He ignores that, shoving you off of him. He knows as well as you do that those headphones are the expensive noise cancelling ones that he'd gotten from you last Christmas. He barely hear himself yelling at his online teammates much less your hushed conversation.

You look at him as if you want to take him out on a nice picnic date and let him lay his head in your lap while playing with his hair pointing at clouds. Which Beomgyu couldn’t really see in any world, you were never really the type.

But who knows? Maybe you were really just that eager for his dick at this point-or the more probable scenario-have him on your dick, that it broke something inside you.

“Why’re you so concerned now? Not like you had any issues with Yeonjun or Taehyun. Hell, you kept up everyone else in the dorms,” His voice goes higher as he attempts to poorly mock his roommates. “‘Y/N, more~’ ‘please, I need it-need y-‘“

“Shut the hell up.” You spit, quickly covering his mouth with your hand while your eyes flicker once more to him, still staring intently at his game.

Really, why were you so concerned now?

Beomgyu was right. You’d had no problem doing the same to them, to Tae and Yeonjun, but they were different-he was different.

Soobin was different than any of them. They were the product of having fun with someone you knew like the back of your hand and vice versa. Simply satisfying-albeit unimportant-a matter of getting your rocks off with people you knew could find your clit and would let you hit it from the back.

Soobin was Soobin though. The sweet boy who looked at you with the most innocent smile.

Who got all blushy and embarrassed when you so much as lightly and non-vulgarly flirted with him.

He’d squeak and duck his head away when you called him bunny - again, non-vulgarly, trying to hide the fact that he was blushing and it turned him on-just a little bit.

In other words, painfully obviously, it was clear.

“He’s a virgin!” You hiss, hand still clamped over his mouth despite his garbled reply. You know just as well as Beomgyu knows how bitchless his friend is. Despite the fact that offers for him were nearly endless he was too shy, too awkward to accept said advances. “-I can’t take that away from him, it needs to be special, it needs-“

Your hand, still over his mouth is touched by something warm and wet and you shriek, pulling away quickly with a look of disgusted horror. “Are you serious right now?”

“Fight me bitch, I will not hesitate.” He growls, looking triumphant with the fact that you’ve now backed up to the edge of the couch.

You roll your eyes at him, looking once again at Soobin.

Fuck, why does he have to be so adorably innocent?

Beomgyu rolls his eyes, wiping at his mouth. "Just trust me, he'd be happy to be used by you. He might be a virgin, but he's nowhere near innocent."

"And what do you mean by that?" You sit against the arm of the couch, wiping Beomgyu's saliva onto the cushions.

He lets out a dry laugh, glancing back at Soobin before reaching for the previously forgotten remote control. "It means he wouldn't be as freaked as you think he would be if he found your sex toy collection."

—-

You suppose Soobin had always been special in some sort of way.

Always there over the span of time that you'd known all of them. Sitting off to the side while you hung out with the others. In his own room while you were fucking around with his other roommates. Playing his game while you were hanging out with Gyu.

He'd caught your eye more than once or twice, or three times over the years.

He was hot. You'd never discount that. Hot in the loser-y, adorable, cute, corruptible kind of way.

But then again, that kind of was your type if you thought about it.

You'd never been particularly close with him like you'd been with the others. He'd never made much effort to hang out with you but he was there when all the others were, if not one-on-one.

And he got really, really embarrassed when you tried to flirt with him like you did the others.

You didn't mind much, you'd just come under the impression that he was kind of scared of women. Which was also kind of cute.

But Beomgyu was right when he'd said that you'd never cared much about morals in the first place.

It didn't matter how close of friends or if they were a virgin or whatever other silly things that made things like that 'trivial'.

Life was too short to pretend you didn't feel things and besides. Sometimes, you really, just...didn't care.

And it wasn't personal, when you wanted someone, you would pursue it and if there was now friend groups you'd single handedly broken up, well they'd clearly made it personal themselves because you always made it very clear that there was no feelings involved.

Besides the raw, hot tension that made your skin tingle like your nerves were livewire.

Soobin was different though, special.

You felt bad for wanting him. For wanting to dirty him up.

He was something pure, something beyond and above you, perhaps and that was something you weren't willing to ruin, no matter what Beomgyu told you.

—-

"Fuck," he panted, "please,"

The room was dark, the light of his laptop being the only thing illuminating his face.

"Please,"

Sounds filled his ears through the crappy pair he'd owned for years, refusing to get wireless ones.

"Please."

"Bet you fucking like that, don't you?" The voice, only a few octaves higher than your own, still sent shivers down his spine.

Close enough.

"You're a such a dirty slut, you know?"

He whined into his sleeve, a sweater paw pressed over his mouth to keep the moans at bay. "I'm sorry, no, no please I'm sorry~" It wasn't doing a very good job muffling his voice though.

"I need it~"

The video seemed to respond to his desperate pleas. "If you need it so fucking bad then you'll be a good boy and wait for mommy's permission. You hear me?"

Or maybe he'd just watched this video so many times he'd memorized all of the male counterpart's lines. "Yes mommy," he panted, "I'll be good, I-I'll wait for your permission!"

He wouldn't. He knew he wouldn't.

He couldn't, as much as he prided himself on being a good boy. This time he knew he wouldn't even make it through the seven minute and thirty-two second video.

Not with you in the next room.

He couldn't tell if you were with Yeonjun or Taehyun. It didn't really matter either way.

Because he would only focus on you.

You weren't loud, having endured enough of Beomgyu's teasing and gripes about your sexual habits. He decided he hated Beomgyu for that.

But he could hear your pants through the paper-thin walls, heavy and followed by your quiet praises. "Sweet boy," you cooed, just as the porn on his laptop continued, "Naughty boy, such a messy little-" He ripped the earbuds out mid-sentence.

He wanted to hear you.

Not some substitute for the real thing.

He could imagine if you walked it on him right now.

Laying spread out on his bed, pants not even all the way off-just messily pulled below his hips, just enough for his dick to breathe properly and for his hand to easily slide up and down with the amount of pre-cum leaking from the tip.

"Fucking please." He moaned, quiet and needy.

You'd see him a mess, his soaked through sleeves catching the drool from his lips, teeth biting into the soft fabric to keep from crying out too loud.

You'd see him shamelessly fucking up into his fist, calling out pleas with no one there to hear him.

"C'mon baby, you can take it, take it all for me." Your voice was accompanied by the wet sounds of what, Soobin wasn't completely sure but his mind quickly conjured a few different theories. "That's it, a little more~"

Fuck him, he wished you were speaking to him.

Cockwarming him, your pussy wrapped around his dick, warm and wet and squeezing around him so good. Fluttering kisses over his face and throat as you teased along the length of him, slowly lifting up just to agonizingly sink back down onto him, clenching tight while he moaned into a kiss.

Or stroking him to another orgasm, making him cum again and again until his body was shaking and tears streaming down his cheeks. Telling him he could take more, do it one more time, for you. Because whatever pain you'd inflict would be worth it, after all it was your hands doing the damage.

"Fuck you look so pretty like this, just makes me wanna fucking wreck you. Turn you into a mindless whore on my dick."

Fuck, so that was what it was.

His mind managed to come up with one more picture through the haze.

You'd have his wrists pinned over his head with one hand, over him, keeping him down with a surprising amount of strength.

God, he could imagine the way you'd look at him. Maybe you'd be kind and gentle, sweet words and a sweet hand, fulfilling every one of his fantasies while calling him your sweet little bunny.

Like you were with whoever you were with on the other side of that wall.

But he doubted it. Or, he hoped not at least.

In his head you'd be meaner, crueler. Look at him with dark, hungry eyes and watch in a sadistic sort of glee when he cried, when he whined, when he begged and pleaded for more.

You'd thrust into him, hard and punishing, slowing down just to make sure that he wasn't crying from serious pain before you'd slam your hips against his, driving the tip of the toy dead into his prostate.

He'd beg you, plead you to slow down, to be nicer to him.

You'd tell him no. Tell him to be a good boy, voice patronizing and low, tell him only good boys get rewards.

God, that’s what he needed right now.

Needed you.

Your words, your touch, your scent, your presence even. You eyes on him, watching as he fell apart.

Not you fucking someone else in a different room.

Liquid heat flowed through his body, scorching and consuming every coherent thought.

"More."

He imagined it was you. Your hands all over him, pressing up against his throat, fondling his balls, purposely, maliciously ignoring where he needed to be touched most while you drove into him over and over and over until he was screaming in ecstasy.

It wasn’t enough, not nearly

"You just love my cock, don't you angel? Love being fucked by me into a mindless whore?"

He silently cracked the lube open, lathering his fingers in it before letting them drift lower.

He'd done this before, but it had been awhile and the stretch was beyond overwhelming with your words ringing through the wall.

“You’re just a little angel, aren’t you, bunny?” And he pressed a finger inside, thrusting shallowly, breath picking up as you got louder.

"No, you're not an angel. You're a fucking whore, taking it like you were made for it, huh?" A second finger, following the first, scissoring himself open with a quiet gasp.

"Yeah? Fuck, is that it?" You laugh and he swears it's right in his ear, ringing through his head. "'m gonna make you scream for me baby,"

He whines in frustration, his fingers not deep enough - you not deep enough inside of him. No, he needs it deeper, harder.

More.

"Get on top of me baby, ride me," you mutter, so far but so close.

He can imagine, as he settles on his knees, that the pillow he straddles is you. That his legs are around your hips. That his fingers, positioning on the bed under him is your dick and your hands are pressing against his hips, holding him in place.

"You're mine, you hear that? Mine. My perfect little slut, taking my cock like a pretty little slut." His body trembles, eyes rolling back as he slowly sinks down onto three fingers.

"Your's." He moans in reply.

And finally, finally, he reaches his prostate, hitting it head on with his fingers.

Stars burst behind his eyelids as they slip shut, back arching into the intrusion. He could cry, he thinks distantly that he maybe is.

But it doesn't matter.

Because your hands are on his hips, controlling his movements, leading him the way you want him to ride your cock.

Up,

"Slut." You whisper.

and down,

"Whore." You lean up, teeth nipping at his neck but not hard enough to leave marks.

over,

"Baby," Breathing over the shell of his ear.

and over,

"Good boy~" Teasingly biting at his earlobe.

harder,

"Bunny," Kissing along his jaw.

faster,

"Mine." Across his cheek.

deeper.

Just barely there, ghosting across his lips-

"-Cum for me baby,"

And he does. With his mouth hung open, drool covered sleeve long forgotten over. With his eyebrows furrowed and body curled into itself, fingers pressed against his prostate.

Ropes of cum covering his chest, and his face. Some reaching his lips and his chin, staining his skin and landing in his open mouth.

"Fuck,"

And on the other side of the wall, "Good boy,"

a/n: i was thinking about making a part two but honestly if it took me a year to find the inspiration to finish this one, i'm not sure a second one will ever come out😭

#soobin x reader #soobin smut #sub txt #txt x reader #txt smut #sub!txt #sub kpop #sub idol #sub!soobin #sub soobin #afab reader #dom reader #dom!reader

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elodieunderglass · 2 years

Text

the first chapter of Moby Dick rewritten in tiresome modern idiom

CHAPTER 1. Loomings.

Call me Ishmael. Some years ago - it's none of your business how many - being mostly broke, and bored with the land part of the world, I thought I would sail around a little and look at the watery part of the world. I'm probably the most mentally healthy person you know. Whenever I feel my face getting grim; whenever it is a damp, drizzly November in my soul; whenever I find myself accidentally reading the ads in the window of funeral homes, and following funeral processions through traffic; and especially when I'm hangry, and only my extremely strong moral principles stop me from deliberately going out in public and methodically slapping people's earbuds out - then I know it's high time to get to sea, ASAP. This is my substitute for getting in fights. I'm too mentally healthy to kill myself; I quietly and considerately put myself on a ship and sail myself away instead. There is nothing surprising in this. Everyone feels exactly the same way, and if they don't, they're lying.

You think I'm lying? Exhibit A: a city. Go to your local coastal city. Everyone is looking at the water. They drive over from other neighborhoods just to come to the water. They make a day of it. They're not doing anything, they're just staring at the ocean. Why? Is it because they all work office jobs? No! Here come more of them! They cram themselves up to the edge of the water and stare at it. WHAT DO THEY WANT? WHAT ARE THEY LOOKING AT. Perhaps the ships themselves all packed together, each one with several compasses on it, creates some kind of critical mass - all of the small compass-magnets on all the ships in the harbor combining into one really big magnetic field - and the people get sucked into the field and trapped there. That's science.

Exhibit 2: the countryside with lakes in it. Every path you follow in the countryside brings you to some water, such as a stream. There is magic in it. If you take your standard fool with ADHD dissociating in the middle of a supermarket and put them outside and give them a shove, they'll automatically lead you to water (if there is any nearby) (try it). Another good experiment to try is to get lost in the great American desert in a caravan supplied with a metaphysical professor! Try it in the great American desert at home!

Yes, as everyone knows, meditation and water are a match made in heaven. Married forever. That's science.

Here's an artist who wants to paint you the dreamiest, most enchanting landscape. What does he put in it? Trees, meadow, cows, a cottage with smoke coming from the chimney, obviously. He will probably put a path in it and make lots of triangular mountains in rows and have them be different shades of blue (naturally.) But there's gotta be a stream in it. Go visit the prairies in June, and wade for forty miles through knee-deep through tiger lilies. What's missing from this picture? Water!

If Niagara Falls was made of sand instead of water, would you travel your thousand miles to see it? Why would a guy given a handful of cash have trouble deciding whether to buy a coat (which he needed) or go to the beach? Why are all the best, healthiest, sexiest and most mentally healthy people obsessed with the sea? (You get me.) When you were first on a boat, did you not succumb to VIBES? Consider ancient Persia. Consider ancient Greece. They understood about vibes, and also gods.

SURELY ALL OF THIS IS NOT WITHOUT MEANING.

And still deeper the meaning of that story of Narcissus, who because he could not grasp the tormenting, mild image he saw in the fountain, plunged into it and was drowned. But that same image, we ourselves see in all rivers and oceans. It is the image of the ungraspable phantom of life; and this is the key to it all! You get me! You understand it now.

Now, when I say that I am in the habit of going to sea whenever I get weird, don't you dare imply that I buy a ticket and get on a boat. I have never had money in my life. How dare you. Anyway I don't go as a passenger - that's bougie, and something boring people do. Passengers never have a good time. And although my C.V. is incredible - I go to sea SO MUCH, you guys, I have lots of experience - I don't go as a boss, or a cook. That sounds like far too much work. Hard work. Disgusting, respectable, bougie, and far too responsible. I can literally only look after myself. Do not ask me to look after ships or shit. In fact, I have only a vague idea of what a ship is. There's so many different kinds of ships - don't get me started and DO NOT GET INVOLVED. Also, I'm allergic to glory.

It's kind of attractive to go as a cook. I mean, I'm allergic to glory and there's some glory attached to the position of the ship's cook, but, like, you're not management-track and so it's still credible. But I don't really want to cook (say) roast chicken. I really fucking love to eat roast chicken. I'm one of the best at doing it actually. I really appreciate when people go out of their way to butter, season, baste and roast a chicken for me. Picture a roast chicken and I am Looking Respectfully at it. Maybe something more, maybe I'm worshipping it. Don't make this weird. If you want to get weird about my relationship with roasted chicken, why aren't you getting weird about the ancient Egyptians? They ate roasted hippos (look it up) and the pyramids were basically pizza ovens. So it's pretty hypocritical to think that I'm being weird about roasted chicken when I've never made mummies out of chickens or built a religious pizza oven dedicated to honoring them: check and mate, haters.

Anyway - I like to go to sea as a manual laborer. A simple sailor. Salt of the earth… er… sea. Yeah, true: as a job it sucks. They make you jump around, order you around, treat you like shit. They expect you to jump around the boat like a grasshopper. And yes, at first, this sucks. It's degrading, especially if you come from a middle-class family. Worse, it's awful if you've already had some kind of professional job before signing on to be the dirt on the boss's boots - like, if you went to college and worked as a teacher and actually got kids to pay attention to you, really feeling this connection to work/teaching/identity or some shit, and now you are just literally the scum on this captain's boots, in the lowest possible job in the world. It hurts! It hurts your dignity. But the hurt, and also the dignity, both wear off in time.

So what if some old bastard sea captain orders me - ME! - to get a broom and sweep down the decks? What does that indignity amount to, compared to the shit in the Bible, compared to the shit in the news, compared to the shit everyone else has to take. Do you think the archangel Gabriel thinks anything the less of me, because I promptly and respectfully obey that old hunks in that particular instance? Who ain’t a slave? Tell me that. We're all just serfs under capitalism, right, so why not just be honest about it: I prefer the honesty. Anyway, however the old sea captains may order me about - slapping and punching of course - I have the satisfaction of knowing that it's the same experience everyone else on Earth has, but more honest. Everyone else in the world is being served the exact same way. Either in a physical or a metaphysical way - sometimes people get the shit beaten out of them in person, sometimes online, sometimes emotionally, it happens to you in EVERY JOB, you sign on to get pushed around and slapped in the teeth: so the point is that when you're a sailor, it's a clean and honest slap. All the workers of the world share the same universal slap to the face that gets passed round, one slap passed all 'round the chain, like paying it forward, but it's a slap; and we should all accept this Universal Slap as the price of living, and then offer each other healing back massages, brother to brother, and slap each other and then kissed the places we slapped, and be happy.

I could examine that but I'm not going to.

Anyway: I always go to sea as a sailor. I've said that already. You're welcome. BUT THE POINT IS, they pay you. If you're a passenger, they don't pay you, at least, not that I've ever heard of [citation needed] (do they pay passengers?? Is there a job I can get where I can be a passenger and get paid?? Look this up.) Yeah so passengers have to pay. And there is all the difference in the world between paying and being paid. The act of paying is perhaps the most uncomfortable infliction that the two orchard thieves entailed upon us. (That's Adam and Eve. You get it.) But BEING PAID. GETTING PAID IS THE BEST. NOTHING COMPARES TO GETTING PAID. EVERYONE LOVES THAT SHIT. Which is surprising, since we also apparently believe that money is the root of all evil, and isn't there something in the bible about "no rich people can get into heaven," right? And yet it's universal, literally everyone loves payday. Ah! How cheerfully we send ourselves to hell.

Finally, I always go to sea as a sailor (I've said this already) because it's FRESH AIR AND EXERCISE. Okay so think about ships. Normally, bosses stand on the "bridge" thing, and because we're sailing a boat, the nose is going into the wind and the butt part of the boat is at the back. That's how wind works. But if you think about it, winds usually go in one direction more than other directions (unless the men have been eating beans and farting: it's Pythagoras, look it up) SO if you're a boss standing on the boss-deck, the wind is blowing FROM the sailors TOWARDS you, and YOU ARE ACTUALLY BREATHING THE AIR THAT SAILORS ALREADY BREATHED. The boss THINKS he breathes it first, but he doesn't. He gets the air at the BACK of the boat and sailors get the air at the FRONT. So it's better to be at the front of the boat (sailor) for health reasons. This is a metaphor for life and work, etc.

But I have smelled the sea lots of times as a paid sailor and WHY I should decide to go on a whaling expedition - ok so you know how there's an invisible police officer of the Fates who has me under constant surveillance, who secretly dogs me, and influences me in some unaccountable way? YOU get me. You know him. "The poor FBI agent tasked with reading my search engine history" YOU GET ME. Anyway, "Ishmael, why, after having a perfectly well-reasoned, and very smart of you, part-time job as a spontaneous random sailor, did you decide to escalate that to joining a WHALING EXPEDITION, which is worse in every way?" Well, ask my fucking secret FBI agent, he can answer better than anyone else. Including me. You get me. Also, obviously, this was predestined, part of the Universe's Grand Programme for its talent show, which was all scheduled way before our time. The concept of sending me on the whaling voyage comes in as a kind of interlude or solo between the main performances of the Universe's great talent show. I bet it was advertised llike,

"PRESIDENTIAL ELECTION OF THE UNITED STATES EMBROILED IN ONGOING LEGAL DISPUTE.

Whaling voyage by some guy called Ishmael.

BLOODY BATTLE IN AFGHANISTAN."

Like a commercial break in between the big acts. A filler episode. Lightens the load for everyone else. Though I can't explain why the stage managers - the Fates - chose such a shitty role for me, a WHALING VOYAGE of all things, when it feels like others were given magnificent parts in high tragedies, and short and easy parts in genteel comedies, and jolly parts in farces - it seems a little unreasonable at first. Why doth Ishmael get shat upon, etc. But then I think about all the circumstances, the plot points and motivations that were cunningly presented to me under various disguises - FBI agents, bouts of random hanger, gay awakenings, you get me - and you can see that actually, I was set up. And worse, between them all, these Fates and Circumstances conspired to make me believe it was all my own choice and good judgment. Is Free Will an illusion? Are my decisions bad? We will NEVER know because I, Ishmael, am just a little guy that the Universe plays head games with.

One of the ways the Universe tricked me into starring in this performance and then mocking me for it was the overwhelming idea of the great whale himself (whaling expeditions usually contain whales.) Such a portentous and mysterious monster roused all my curiosity. Then of course, if you have a whale, you have the wild and distant seas where the whale rolls around with his body-the-size-of-an-island; the dangers and nameless perils of the whale; whales are also found in interesting places I haven't seen; this all tipped me over the edge. Maybe normal people could've resisted, but I am tormented with an everlasting itch for obscurity. I hate everyone else's oceans. I want the forbidden seas.

You know The Horrors? Of course you do. You might be surprised that I, the most mentally healthy person you've ever met, a person who is self-aware enough to go to sea when they're at their fucking limits, a guy who likes fresh air and manual labor and normal things, is familiar with The Horrors. Well, you'd be surprised. I know what's good, I'm an extrovert. But I'm still quick to perceive The Horrors. And how I deal with the horrors is a very extroverted thing: I'm social with them, if they'll let me. It's smart to be on good terms with The Horrors. You should always be on good terms with your permanent neighbors. That's how extroverts deal with The Horrors, and I recommend it.

I think that's enough explanation for why I welcomed the whaling voyage. The great flood-gates of the wonder-world swung open, and in the wild figments of imagination that pushed me into doing it, the whales came marching two by two, hurrah, hurrah. They marched into my innermost soul in endless processions and occupied it, you see, I was quite helpless under this occupation - I consented to the haunting and the whales marched in to haunt me - and amidst them all was one grand shrouded white phantom, like a snowy mountain in the air.

You get it.

You know how it is, with whales.

(read the actual first chapter of Moby Dick here: https://www.gutenberg.org/files/2701/2701-h/2701-h.htm)

#mody bick

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mswritergirl02 · 2 months

Text

38 Missed calls and Tequila

In which Harry and y/n fight causing her to storm out

-> Reader advisory: mentions of alcohol and explicit language, proceed with caution.

A/N : Taking requests (:

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Y/N paced back and forth in the living room, her hands clenched into fists at her sides. “I can’t believe you, Harry! You always do this, you never listen to me!”

Harry’s brows furrowed, his frustration bubbling to the surface. “And what about you, huh? Do you think you’re always right? You’re so damn stubborn!”

“Well, maybe if you cared about my opinion for once—”

“Care about your opinion? I bend over backwards for you, Y/N! But it’s never enough, is it? You always find something else to complain about!”

“Oh, so now this is all my fault, is it? Typical!”

Harry threw his hands up in exasperation. “For fucks sake I never said that!

Y/N’s voice trembled with anger and hurt as she launched her accusation.

“You know what, Harry? I bet you’re cheating on me, aren’t you? That’s why you’re always so secretive about your phone, always disappearing at odd hours!”

Harry’s eyes widened in disbelief. “Are you serious, Y/N? I’ve told you a million times, that I’m not cheating on you! You’re just making things up because you can’t stand losing a fucking argument!”

Y/N’s voice rose at his accusation. “Oh, please! Don’t act like you’re innocent in all of this! I see the way you look at other girls, Harry! You can’t fool me!”

Harry’s patience snapped, his frustration evident in his tone. “I can’t believe you’re bringing this up again! You’re always jumping to conclusions, always looking for a bloody reason to doubt me! Maybe it’s your own insecurities that are driving us apart!”

Y/N’s anger faltered, replaced by a pang of hurt. “I’m not insecure, Harry! I just want to know that I can trust you!”

“Well, maybe if you gave me a chance to prove it instead of constantly accusing me of things I didn’t do!”

“I’ve been nothing but loyal to your crazy ass for four fucking years,” Harry declared, his voice tinged with frustration and hurt.

The tension in the room was thick, each word a painful reminder of the growing rift between them. Y/N’s heart ached with the weight of their words, knowing deep down that her accusations were absurd, Harry loved her. Still she was unable to stop herself from lashing out in a desperate attempt to regain control of the argument.

Y/N's lips curled into a sneer as she spat out, "Go fuck yourself, Harry!"

With that, she snatched her keys off the coffee table and stormed out, the door slamming shut behind her.

Harry stared at the closed door, his chest tight with frustration. "You're fucking crazy," he yelled, knowing she couldn't hear him and was long gone. He cursed out loud and sank onto the couch, running his hand over his face.

“A bloody fucking carpet," he muttered to himself, the absurdity of their argument hitting him like a ton of bricks. They had been fighting over a bloody carpet, of all things. It was ridiculous, and yet somehow it had escalated to Y/N storming out in anger.

They hadn't been in the best place lately. Y/N was constantly stressed out at the office, working long hours, barely having time for herself, let alone for him. And Harry, always buried in his work, was rarely home to see her, too caught up in his next album to notice the distance growing between them.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

12am

38 outgoing calls

Harry’s nerves were on edge. He had called Y/N 38 times since she stormed out, each call going straight to voicemail. It wasn’t like her to stay out this late, and the thought of not knowing where she was made his stomach churn with anxiety.

Pacing back and forth in their empty apartment, Harry’s mind raced with worry. He had grown accustomed to Y/N’s silent treatments during their arguments, but this was different. This silence felt suffocating.

12:30 am

“Answer your phone, Y/N,” Harry muttered under his breath, frustration and fear mingling in his voice. He reached for his phone once again, fingers trembling as he clicked on her contact for the 39th time. But this time, instead of the familiar voicemail greeting, a stranger’s voice answered Y/N’s phone.

As Harry heard the unfamiliar male voice answer Y/N’s phone, his heart raced with a surge of protectiveness. “Who the hell are you?” he demanded, his tone sharp with urgency. “Why the hell do you have Y/N’s phone? Where is she?”

Before Harry could ask any more questions or receive a response, the phone call ended abruptly.

12:45am

It was around 12:45am when It clicked in Harry’s mind, Y/N had insisted they shared their locations when they first started dating. Harry quickly opened the app on his phone and zoomed in on her location.

Maggies Bar & Grill.

Confusion washed over him when he saw that Y/N was at a bar. Drinking was something she rarely did, especially alone at this hour. Harry’s heart raced with worry, imagining all sorts of worst-case scenarios.

Without hesitation, he grabbed his keys, and got behind the wheel. He knew he had to reach Y/N as fast as possible.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Meanwhile, Y/N found herself in fits of laughter, seated on a bar stool behind the counter of Maggies. With tears of joy rolling down her cheeks, she swiftly grabbed her phone back from the male bartender’s grasp. Giggling, she teasingly whispered, “Don’t tell Harry,” and playfully pressed a finger to her lips.

Earlier, Y/N had confided in the sympathetic bartender about her rocky relationship with Harry. Each heartfelt confession she made was chased down with another shot of tequila, the weight of the world was momentarily lifted by the warmth of the alcohol. What she didn't know was that the bartender discreetly slipped her keys into his pocket when her attention wandered, silently determined to prevent her from making any rash decisions in her inebriated state.

“Y/N, I’m cutting you off,” the bartender said for what felt like the tenth time that night, his tone gentle yet firm. “All you’re getting is water from now on.”

Y/N pouted, shoving the glass of water away. “But I’m having fun!” she protested, her words slightly slurred from the alcohol. “I can handle a few more drinks, I promise.”

The bartender shook his head, a hint of concern in his eyes. “I’m sorry, Y/N. I can’t risk serving you any more alcohol. It’s for your own safety.” With that, he gently pushed the glass of water back towards her, silently urging her to hydrate and sober up.

“You’re such a buzzkill,” Y/N slurred, her tone growing more aggressive as she leaned in towards the bartender, her eyes narrowed.

The bartender stood his ground, not going back on his decision. “I’m not serving you any more drinks tonight,” he stated once again.

Y/N’s frustration bubbled over, and she clenched her fists slamming them on the counter. “You can’t cut me off!” she snapped.

Just as Y/N opened her mouth to make a scene once more , Harry entered the bar, his eyes immediately locking onto her. With purpose in his stride, he made his way over to where she sat, his gaze briefly flickering to the bartender.

Harry’s expression was a mix of relief and concern as he approached. “Is everything okay here?” he asked.

The bartender met Harry’s gaze, his expression serious. “Harry I'm assuming? Yeah, everything’s fine now,” he replied, gesturing towards Y/N. “I had to cut her off a while ago. She’s had enough for tonight.” Recognizing Harry by Y/n's lock screen on her phone and his contact name.

Harry’s brow furrowed in confusion. “But then who called me from her phone?” he questioned, his eyes narrowing slightly as he searched for answers.

The bartender hesitated for a moment before reaching into his pocket and pulling out Y/N’s keys. “It was me,” he admitted, handing them over to Harry. “I knew she shouldn’t be driving in her condition.”

Relief flooded Harry’s features as he accepted the keys. “Thank you,” he said sincerely, grateful for the bartender’s quick thinking.

Y/N’s drunken aggression flared as Harry turned towards her. “What are you doing here?” she slurred, her tone sharp with irritation.

“I don’t need you babysitting me.”

Of course she's drinking tequila the one thing that brings out her temper even more

Harry cut her off with a stern glare, “Your breath reeks of fucking tequila and you’re in no condition to drive,”.

Y/N turned towards the bartender, “You're a fucking snitch” she accused him loudly causing heads to turn in their direction. Harry’s annoyance grew as he watched her escalate the situation.

“Y/N, you’re causing a fucking scene,” Harry muttered, frustrated to which she scoffed, pushing herself unsteadily to her feet.

She held out her hand. “Give them back. I’m driving myself home, I don’t want to look at you.”

Harry’s heart sank at her words, but he knew he couldn’t let her make such a reckless decision. “I can’t do that, Y/N,” he said gently, stepping closer to her. “You’re not thinking clearly right now. Let me take you home.”

Y/N shook her head stubbornly, her anger fueling her determination. “No!” she insisted, her voice rising.

“I’m not going anywhere with you. Just give me my keys!”

He was over her drunk antics.

Stepping uncomfortably close to her, he took the time to observe the way her hair fell over her ear. With a firm yet gentle touch, he reached out and tucked her hair behind her ear, his fingertips lingering for a moment before trailing down her cheek.

Leaning in, Harry's voice dropped to a low and dangerous tone. “Y/N you better listen to me.”

“Drop the fucking attitude,” he snapped his breath sending a shiver down her spine as it brushed against her skin.

Now fully gaining her attention Harry continued speaking. “You're gonna lower your voice and follow me to the car like the good girl I know you are."

Y/n began to feel as if her legs were putty with each word she processed.

“Don't make me embarrass you here love,” he said while running his finger over her bottom lip.

“Because I can and I will.”

Harry's words hung in the air, commanding and unwavering leaving no room for argument.

Masterlist

Lights Out

#harry styles x reader #harry x you #harry styles fluff #harry styles blurb #harry styles one shot #harry styles imagine #harry styles fan fic #harry styles #dom harry styles #harry styles angst #harry x y/n

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edges-of-night · 10 months

Note

Hello! I was wondering if I could request something? Fellowship x reader where the reader gets injured in a battle or something and confessed their feelings before passing out… and when they wake up they find out their feelings r returned 🤭 I love ur requests they r so very cute! Thank u!

That was such a lovely request to write, nonnie! I’m really sorry you had to wait for it so long. Also, thank you for your kind words!

･ﾟ✧ Aragorn.

Initially, Aragorn would not treat you much differently after your recovery – so much so that you start wondering if you actually confessed your feelings to him or hallucinated that whole part. But all Aragorn wants to do is find the right moment to talk to you. Once he does, he’d gently take your hands in his and tell you how much you mean to him – and that your feelings are in fact reciprocated! Confessing your love first gave him the courage to do the same. “I am not well versed in these fields. But I hope I can show you my heart just as bluntly as you did yours.”

･ﾟ✧ Boromir.

Boromir would not be around when you wake up. The others tell you he was simply shocked by your passing out and that he needed time to adjust and would be overjoyed to hear you’re fine – but you suspect it would be something else that scared him away. You’d find him pondering in a lone corner, afraid of how he’ll react to seeing you again – only to see his hardened face light up when your eyes meet his – and then he’d rush to kiss you! “I’ve been a fool for not understanding it sooner. Forgive me…!” ♡

･ﾟ✧ Frodo.

I like to think that out of the Fellowship, Frodo would be the most mature to handle your love confession. After all, he knows your injuries aren’t lethal and worries not about what happens next, since he is very clear in his own feelings. After you wake up, he greets you with a smile, takes your hand to make sure you’re fine – and lowers his voice to say, “I’ll call the others right away. But before that, I need you to remember the last thing you said to me. I feel the same.” He’d give you the cutest smile, shining all the way up to his blue eyes.

･ﾟ✧ Gandalf.

Gandalf, being the one who tried to heal you in the moment you passed out, tries ignoring your dramatic love confession and silently urges the others to forget what they overheard. That said, he is very flattered – after all, he’s been enamoured with you for a while now. Still, his romance is quiet and subdued. He’d sit next to you with a smile when you wake up. At first, you thought his behaviour was unchanged – until he ends his sentences toward you with “darling” or “my dear”. There is a playful spark in his eyes that tells you everything you need to know. (Eventually, he would also spell out ‘I love you too’ in fireworks or butterflies!)

･ﾟ✧ Gimli.

Gimli stays with you during your recovery, guarding your bed day and night, so dutifully that the others need to remind him of eating. Once you wake up, you’d meet his soft eyes, only to watch them harden when you try to speak to him: “Don’t do that again! Ever!” – “What? Talk to you…?” – “Scare me like that!” he corrects, grumbling into his beard. “What’s a lad supposed to do when his sweetheart passes out in his arms?” You smile blissfully as you understand and offer him a hug that Gimli more than eagerly returns!

･ﾟ✧ Legolas.

Legolas is entirely stumped when you pass out after that dramatic “I love you”. There is a frown on his pretty face for the next few hours, waiting for you to wake up again. When you do, you’re terribly embarrassed by the way he’s staring at you through his Elven eyes. He’d fixate you and ask, “Did you mean it? What you said to me?” You’d blush and retort that yes, of course you meant it – and that is enough to make his bright smile and joy return. “What a relief! I feared that if it had been but a fever, my reciprocation would ring false, or sound like a mockery. Please know it’s nothing but the truth!” And he’d take your hands and lean in for a quick and happy kiss!

･ﾟ✧ Merry.

At first, Merry would not believe what he heard just before you passed out. During your recovery, he retreats into dark corners to think and rationalise – people say all kinds of stupid things when they thought they were about to die, right? You couldn’t possibly be in love with him – not when there are so many other people – taller people – all around you. So, imagine his surprise when you do ask him for a private conversation after waking up, to set everything straight. Only Merry doesn’t accept your apology. “What’s there to apologise for? You said what you felt in that moment. It’s not like I didn’t like what I heard, I feel the same, after all…” And then, you both share an ‘oh!’ moment before you laugh and fall into the other’s arms!

･ﾟ✧ Pippin.

Pippin would initially be overwhelmed by your confession and subsequent passing out. However, he’s positive you’ll be fine, firmly believing that no matter how important, these matters needn’t be so dramatic. He’d treat you as casually as always after your recovery, though you can’t deny there is a spring in his steps and a smile on his face whenever you’re talking. You now know that your feelings are returned, and yet you still blush when he tells you over a shared bowl of strawberries: “I don’t think I’ve told you yet, but I love you, too! Very much so! I’ve thought of a few different pet names to call you, but I wanted to clarify that first. So, just tell me which one you like best…”

･ﾟ✧ Sam.

Sam would not leave your side, no matter how long you were passed out. Whenever someone would try and tear him away, he’d explain that he has something very important to discuss with you when you wake up. He would practice romantic speeches and poems to recite for you, really thinking the whole thing through – only to remain absolutely speechless when your eyes do meet his. After your initial greeting – “Thank goodness you’re alive!” – he’d just hold your hand and ask you to stay with him ♡

#lotr imagine #lotr headcanons #lotr x reader #aragorn x reader #boromir x reader #frodo x reader #gandalf x reader #gimli x reader #legolas x reader #merry x reader #pippin x reader #samwise x reader #* ask #* request #* hurt/comfort #* fluffy #also sidenote: i love love love that giffed moment of sam rushing to frodo's side haha <3

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heizlut · 3 months

Note

Breeding kink with Razor

this is so fitting for him, i love it! i’m adjusting his speech pattern slightly just so it flows a little better, hope you don’t mind❤️

Instincts

cw: public sex, breeding, biting/marking, ovulation, mentions of pregnancy

tags: switch fem!reader, switch!razor, he’s literally 18 so scroll away if you have an issue xoxo💋

nsfw under the cut

m!list here

⚡︎ .𖥔 ݁ ˖𓃦⚡︎ .𖥔 ݁ ˖𓃦⚡︎ .𖥔 ݁ ˖𓃦⚡︎

You and Razor had a bit of an odd relationship. He came across you months ago, spying behind a tree in Wolvendom when you made your first appearance there. He was wary of you, not sure if you were friendly or there to hunt the wolves he called family. Once he saw you were only there for the wolfhook each time you came, he started to gain the courage to get closer.

In truth, you had started going there because you had heard about him through the Knights of Favonius and wanted to see him for yourself. You knew he was watching, but you didn't want to startle him, so each time you came you only gathered some wolfhook and went on your way. Each day was the same routine, until one day he approached you, still a little wary of you, "...Nice?"

Those were his first words to you. Your eyes landed on him and you smiled brightly, "I am." You were captured by the way he looked; toned muscles, scars across his body and face, long thick silver hair, and crimson eyes. He was better than you had imagined, even if his manner of speech was a little strange. After letting Razor smell your neck, he smiled at you telling you that you smelled like a flower.

Every quirk he had was so cute to you. Weeks passed and each day you would visit Razor, getting to know each other and he grew to trust you immensely. You even had been helping him speak in more proper sentences, although that was still a work in progress. You would be a fool to miss the way his gaze lingered on you and the way he would get as close to you as he could without outright being on top of you.

You looked to him, only to see Razor had already been staring at you. He tilted his head a little as you studied each other in silence. You were the first one to break it, "Do you want to be with me?" The look of confusion on his face made you giggle, "Am with you now, no?" How cute and innocent he was... You shook your head still laughing, "I mean romantically."

Razor's eyebrows scrunched as he repeated the word back to you, clearly unsure of what it meant. You didn't think words would help you out with this, so you reached up and turned his face to yours, pressing a kiss to his lips. He knew what you meant now as he melted into the kiss. Ever since then, you two were inseparable. Which bring us to the present.

The sun was setting, low in the sky, when you made your way to your usual spot. Before you could even call out to him, Razor pounced on you, knocking you both to the ground and making you squeal, "Razor wha-" Your words are cut off when you feel something hard press against your core and his nose lightly grazing your skin as he takes in your scent, "You smell...Different. Good..."

Your cheeks immediately heat up. You were ovulating and he could smell it. Did he even know what that meant? Razor's nose trails down your body til it reaches your cunt, his nose pressing against your clothed clit, making you suck in a breath. He nudges it again, then his eyes flick up to yours, "Here. New good smell... I want more." He doesn't wait for your response before he starts tugging down your pants.

"Razor wait! We're outside... What if someone comes?", your voice came out a little breathy, feeling an aching need at your center. Razor tilts his head, "Why care? No one comes." He was right. People usually avoided coming to Wolvendom. Besides, you were more needy and sensitive than usual because of your ovulation. You just wanted to be filled. You end up lifting your hips slightly to help Razor who continued to tug at your pants.

The warm breeze brushing against your exposed pussy made your scent even more potent to him. Razor immediately begins lapping at your cunt, drawing a sweet moan from within you. The way his tongue circled your clit and lapped at your arousal made you tug his hair. He practically growls when you do so, not wanting to separate himself from something so new and delicious, so he latches on to it. Razor’s lips suck your clit into his mouth while his tongue continues it’s lashings. Your head falls back against the soft grass as you come undone on his tongue.

The taste was even more divine than it smelled, making him continue and overstimulate you. Your legs shake hard and you tug his hair hard with a soft cry of his name. Razor glances up at you curiously but annoyed you wanted to pull him from this. His mouth open and tongue still against your clit. “Come here…” your voice is shaky as you try to get him to listen. Thankfully, he finally does, crawling up and caging you in with his body, “Why? Wasn’t finished…” You roll your hips up making your bare cunt grind against his bulge, “I want you inside me.”

Razor lets out a deep groan as you grind up into him, “What in where? Help..” You knew he was legitimately clueless but him asking you to be so specific sparked something inside of you. It turned you on. “I need your cock in my pussy. Fill me up. Breed me.” Those last two words did it. Oh he knew what that meant alright. Razor fumbles with his pants, wanting to free his throbbing length. You almost laugh at how hard he’s trying and you take over. Catching him off guard, you roll the both of you over, you now caging him in. You smirk when he looks up at you with surprise, “Let me do it.”

Razor almost pouts but stops the minute your hand wraps around his cock, his eyes goes wide at the new sensation and at a loss for words. He has so many questions but they’d have to wait because now your were slowly sinking yourself down onto his dick. He grips onto your hips as though you would disappear from him any second and his eyes almost roll back, “Good…. So good…”

Once you were fully seated on top of him, you begin to move slowly. You grind against him and then begin to move yourself, letting his cock drag in and out of your walls at a brutally slow pace. Every time his cock went back in to the hilt, Razor felt he was going insane. So much so that now he flipped the position yet again, leaning down to lick at your neck, and he growls, “Too slow.” Before you can even ask what he means, he begins thrusting inside your tight wet cunt as if this would be the first and last time he ever got to fuck you. You cry out, digging your nails into his scarred back, your legs wrapping around his toned waist to keep him close.

The growls and grunts that fall from Razor’s lips sound so primal, as if he’s just running in instinct at this point. And he really truly is. Every since he smelled that delicious scent, his instincts were telling him he needed to fuck you so full of his cum and make you swell with his children. The sounds coming from both of you and from the way his balls slapped against your ass and the way your pussy squelched with each hard thrust was so incredibly lewd. Razor leans back down to your neck, biting hard enough to break skin as he growls once more, “Mine.” This brings you completely over the edge, your sweet pussy pulsating around his cock as you cum.

It’s not long til Razor follow suit. He latches onto the mark he gave you, letting out a muffled, husky groan as he fills you with his potent load. The way his cock throbs inside of you makes you feel overstimulated for the second time that day. Razor stays still for a moment, not wanting to pull out. Not wanting to be done. He wanted to see your breasts grow bigger and your stomach swell. He wanted to make you his for life. The thought alone makes his cock begin to harden inside of you once more and he looks into your eyes, “Again.”

⚡︎ .𖥔 ݁ ˖𓃦⚡︎ .𖥔 ݁ ˖𓃦⚡︎ .𖥔 ݁ ˖𓃦⚡︎

a/n: this makes me want to write knotting/omegaverse fics😭

#razor smut #razor x reader smut #genshin smut #genshin impact smut #genshin razor #genshin impact razor

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giuliettagaltieri · 5 months

Text

Swarm of Bees

Pairing: Fiancé!Gojō x Fiancée!Reader

Chapter Synopsis: Gojō Satoru gets a taste of his own medicine.

Warning: angst, arranged marriage, age gap, hints of dacryphilia, Gojō is a bully at heart.

Word Count: 1596

3 of 9

There are many things that Gojō Satoru hates.

One, the higher ups of the jujutsu society.

Two, when people say “No offense, but…” And proceed to insult him.

Three, people who get in his way.

And four, when he is not getting the attention he deserves.

In the past few years, Gojō has been working as a teacher in the Jujutsu High. He still leaves for missions, it was only expected as he is the strongest sorcerer. But he stays in the school quite often compared to when he was a field sorcerer.

And quite frankly, he expected more visits from a certain someone.

But he never got them anymore.

Shoko would often put out her cigarette to drop her face on her palms whenever Gojō talks about this. And he cannot understand why she does that.

From time to time, he receives gifts from you. But no more letters. Nothing that adds a personal touch from you. Just food. As if you’re sending them so he won’t forget you existed.

But if he were to be asked, forgetting you was impossible as your time to be wedded comes closer and closer.

And now, you are celebrating your 20th naming day.

You turned into a beautiful young lady. Truly worthy of him.

But much to his aggravation, it seems like many took notice of your change too.

Men from different clans were hovering over you.

Greeting you, complimenting you about the simplest of things. It made something inside him itch and it bothered him to no end.

They only liked you now because you turned out to be a well-polished woman. They did not see you with snot on your nose as you wailed after scraping your knee, which he absolutely had no involvement whatsoever or when your face bubbled like a squirrel when you did not get your way.

“You’re pouting.” Shoko comments as she sips on her glass of champagne.

The celebration was at its peak. The musical ensemble was playing a lively tune and gossips and giggles were filling the floral air of your estate house.

And you, the center of the event.

Almost every pair of eyes were on you.

Gone was the shy little lady of your house. You are now a woman who is ready to take her first steps into society. You were like a fresh fruit, ripe for the taking. Had it not been for Gojō’s presence, many insolent men would have asked, no, begged for your hand right then.

Your hair glittered with every turn of your head. Your painted lips curving up to a perfect smile whenever a gentleman compliments you. Yet the innocent smile is always paired with the haughty spark in your eyes as you decline their offer to dance.

It was the fourth time that you declined an offer in the same hour.

And Gojō Satoru cannot stand to watch such blatant disrespect any longer.

Both Shoko and Nanami follow him with their watching eyes as he makes his way to you. Their feet are ready to move as soon as the man makes a fool of himself or starts a fit in the middle of your perfect evening. Or both.

They were at the edge of their seats when Gojō clears his throat to catch your attention. The two of them watch very closely for any sudden movement from any of you.

But like fluid from the most graceful of waterfalls, you rise from your seat, standing on the tip of your toes to lean on Gojō’s chest.

All breaths halted at your action, including the man you were smiling up to. His crystalline blue eyes watching you, almost calculating your every move. But you smile slyly at him as your fingers trace his jaw and your lips find his cheek.

“I am delighted to see you. But I am terribly sorry Gojō-sama, I would have to decline.” Your thumb caresses his cold cheek. “My dance card is full for the evening.”

Like a nymph, you slide away from him to accept the hand of a young man who was waiting for you. And Gojō can only watch as you are being guided to the center of the floor.

And you danced so beautifully.

The itch turned into a burn. And Gojō had to sit the entire evening with such sensation nesting in his chest, almost clawing out into a form of aggression.

Whenever your dance partner spins you or their gloved hands wander closely to your bottom, Gojō has to quell the urge to pummel them to the ground. He did not quite understand the urge to do so. But after having the feeling for the rest of the night, he has come to terms with it. Given up on trying to understand the impulse and just settled with the idea that every man who speaks with you is disrespecting him.

And you.

Oh, he is so cross with you.

How dare you fill in your dance card without reserving even a single dance for him. Have you forgotten that you are betrothed to him? Or do you just fancy the little game you are playing? Acting as if he is not around.

The clock hand tells that the night was no longer young. But you were still being twirled around in the middle of the dance hall. It was your final dance for the evening. And by the slight delay in your steps, he is well aware that you are exhausted from dancing for hours.

By the time the last note travels through the air, Gojō was already on his feet and marching towards you.

You took no notice of course as you were smiling brightly at your dance partner as he bowed to place a kiss on your gloved hand.

But before his lips could touch you, Gojō Satoru unceremoniously grabs you by your midriff and carries you like a mannequin being set up for display.

Your startled squeal catches the attention of every person in the room and they watch as you wrap your arms around your fiancé’s neck in panic.

As the man carries you and disappears behind the doors to your garden, the chatter resumes but now, soft smiles are gracing the lips of every attendee.

They have been granted the front row seats to watch your game of push and pull with the strongest sorcerer. Some of them have been watching ever since before you learned to walk.

It brought them great joy to see the man finally taking an action to claim you as his woman.

You, on the other hand, have your heart beating wildly on your chest.

Have you pushed too far?

Has your act of refusing his offer to dance been too much of a blow to his pride?

When Gojō places you down, you also pull your arms back to your sides. You do not want to meet his eyes. No, not at all.

“Sit.”

You still instinctively look up at him though. “Huh?”

He gestures to the bench behind you. “I said, sit.”

Immediately, you pull at your dress to smoothen the fabric as you sit down. You did not appreciate how the act made you even smaller compared to his full height.

Your fingers twiddle with each other to release some of the budding nervousness in your chest.

“I-I am terribly sorry if I upset you, Gojō-sama.” You stammer.

There you are.

A smirk finds itself on Gojō's lips. You haven’t changed one bit. You were only brave when there were other people around but you are the same shy little girl that he knew the moment you were alone.

He kneels before you to look you in the eye. “Upset me? Whatever do you mean, my love?” His tone was dark and dangerous despite him smiling playfully at you.

You wanted to cry.

And his smile widens when your eyes turn glassy just as your lips wobble.

He just watched your suffering, willing yourself to hold back the tears. Just as you thought you'd break, he clicks his tongue and digs through the poof of your gown to take off your sandals.

And as he expected, blisters covered your dainty feet.

“How were you dancing so beautifully with such discomfort.” He says with his voice grim.

You can only watch him as his hands work on healing your wounds.

At times like this, you feel the safest. As if nothing in the world could harm you.

And without much thinking, your hands cup his cheek. And Gojō looks at you with still a tiny frown by his eyebrows.

“Are you upset with me?” You ask with your voice barely above a whisper.

“That depends. Are you done with your ruse?” He cocks an eyebrow and you nod shyly. “Then we’re good.”

“Will you dance with me now?”

When you smile at him so softly, how can he say no?

But to your surprise, the man grabs you by your waist, lifts you up until your now healed feet are stepping on his shoes.

You hastily tried to get off but he tightens his hold on your waist.

“Stay.”

It was a simple command but you find yourself surrendering all that you are to him.

Your hands find themselves resting atop his shoulders and with the echoes of the music spilling to the dim garden, Gojō Satoru makes you feel as if you too were honored throughout heaven and earth, simply because he had you in his arms and he was swaying you to the faintest of melodies.

Where the Blue Roses Grow

#gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x y/n #satoru gojō x reader #jujutsu kaisen #gojō satoru #gojo fluff #gojo satoru angst #where the blue roses grow #arranged marriage

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arctrooper69 · 4 months

Text

As Iron Sharpens Iron

"As iron sharpens iron, so one person sharpens another." Proverbs 27:17

Beta-read by @dragonrider9905

Chapter 1:

Previous // Next

Warnings: Jealousy. Brief mention of blood. Canon violence.

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You couldn't even look at her.

That thought alone made you sick to your stomach. The fact that you couldn't bear to look at a woman simply because she was interested in the same man that you were, made you want to cry.

Am I really that shallow? You thought bitterly as you slammed the hydrospanner into the damaged component of the landing gear you’d been trying to dislodge.

I can’t believe I was so stupid! You jammed the point of the tool violently into a crack, trying to pry it out. Of course he’d go for her. She was prettier than you - funnier too.

You closed your eyes, taking a deep breath.

Hunter is his own man. He likes someone else. Not a big deal.

Except for some reason, judging by the heavy ache in your chest, it was a big deal, no matter how much you tried to fool yourself into thinking that everything was fine.

The landing gear piece was still stuck fast. You set down the hydrospanner and picked up the plasma cutter.

This better kriffing work or I’ll have Tech up my ass for a month about it. Not to mention having to tell Hunter that I broke the ship. Again.

You ran your fingers over the healing scar on your cheek and looked at the carbon scoring around the piece that stuck fast, fused in place by laser fire.

A smile made its way across your face as you remembered how it all happened. You were providing cover fire so they'd have time to escape - more exposed than you'd like to be, but it wasn't anything you couldn't handle - until a stray shot hit the ship at just the right angle.

Hunter had tackled you to the ground, shielding you from the blast with his own body.

Despite the chaos around you, being in his arms felt safe.

“Don’t ever do that again!” It was meant to be an order but it felt different than any of the others he’d given over the past year. The way he’d taken your face into his hands, carefully examining the small, insignificant wound on your cheek. His face was unreadable but as you’d looked closer, his eyes were a whirlwind of relief that you hadn’t been hurt worse. There was something else there too - something that fed the hope hidden away in your core that your feelings toward him were reciprocated. He’d kept his hand on your arm as you stood up. They were strong, steady hands that kept you warm and stayed on your arm seconds longer than the moment demanded.

But then you’d found him in a closet with Phee’s sister only hours later at Cid’s parlour.

I’m so stupid. How could I have read him so wrong? What made me think I’d ever have a chance with a man like Hunter? You shook your head, angry at yourself for letting your guard down. For the first time since the beginning of the Clone Wars, you’d felt alive in a way that didn’t involve throwing yourself into violently dangerous situations. You felt at home with this band of misfit clones. You had finally allowed yourself to feel and acknowledge the emotions that came with it. Now you remembered why you hadn’t done that before. It was stupid and you would make sure that it wouldn’t happen again.

Finishing with the plasma cutter, you brought a wrench down hard with a loud clang. The piece barely moved an inch and you threw the tool down with a frustrated groan.

“You okay over there?” Phee poked her head around the corner, eyebrow raised.

“I’m good!” You grinned, hoping the faux smile would keep her from asking anymore questions. “Just trying to get this stubborn kriffing piece out so Tech can replace it when he gets back.”

Phee chuckled as you glared at the offending part. She walked over to the side of the ship, looking up and down at the stripped landing gear.

“Damn… what’d you guys get into this time?”

It was your turn to chuckle, grateful for the distraction from your spiraling negativity.

“That is a very complicated story,” Tech answered for you as he rounded the corner, “However, I do not currently have the time to tell it. We have another mission from Cid and should be leaving as soon as we’ve made our repairs.”

Good, you thought. Another mission might be just what you needed to get out of your head and back into the groove of things. Back to normal.

Tech stopped next to Phee in front of the landing gear, surveying the mess of tools and ship components. He frowned. “Although, it seems as though that may take a bit longer than I originally thought.”

He grabbed the hydrospanner from the ground by your feet and began prying at the piece you’d been working on. “I will fix this. You pick up the tools and get that carbon scoring off of those panels.”

Phee grinned as she began helping you scrape. “I love it when you get all bossy like that, Brown-Eyes.”

Tech’s cheeks darkened, the only indicator that he’d heard her at all.

You smirked. Tech and Phee were so different from each other. Her carefree sense of adventure and aptitude for playing fast and loose with the rules seemed opposite to Tech’s academic personality and rigid structure. But despite their differences, they seemed to bond over an innate sense of curiosity and wonder. They belonged together.

Like Hunter and I should be, you thought bitterly.

The silence that fell on the group as you worked was deafening. Every so often you caught Phee pausing to watch as Tech worked his magic with the repairs.

Tech remained oblivious, but found himself sending subtle glances towards her as she worked. Every glance felt like daggers through your chest. A reminder of what could have been yours.

“How’s it looking, Tech?” Hunter walked around the corner, setting a crate of explosives down for Wrecker to load onto the ship.

The knife you’d been using to scrape the panel suddenly felt heavy and clumsy in your hand. It slipped through your fingers as you frantically tried to catch it but failed as it hit the ground with a dull thud.

You gasped as a thin line of blood blossomed across your pointer finger and the palm of your hand.

“Kriff!” you grumbled under your breath. Hunter stepped forward quickly only to be intercepted by Phee who grabbed your injured hand, inspecting it.

“Eh, you’re fine,” she pulled a bacta patch from her pocket, quickly wrapping the injury as though she’d done it more than her fair share of times. “Be more careful with that next time,” she chided. You looked up expecting to see Hunter but he was gone.

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remcycl333 · 1 year

Text

define: states 🫶

also known as: how to manifest using states!

your state is what manifests, not your thoughts.

this has become a very inflammatory sentence for some, but it shouldn't be scary. states simplify manifestation, it doesn't complicate it.

at the beginning of my loa journey, i would affirm alllll day long. while watching tv, while reading, while hanging out with my friends. and by the logic of "your dominant thoughts manifest," i should've gotten my manifestations after only a few days of that. but i didn't, because dominant thoughts aren't what manifests, it's your state that manifests.

you are not a state. you are I Am, and you enter in and out of states all day long. there is an infinite number of states, and no one experiences states the same way. so even if two people are manifesting the same thing (for example, money), the State of Being Rich will probably look different for both of them. so there's really no one specific way a state should look/feel!

because there are an infinite number of states you can occupy, right now you have the power to be rich, just as much as you have the power to be poor. it is just as easy to occupy the state of being rich as it is the state of being poor. you are both of these things, and you know that you are both of these things because you can imagine being both of these things, and everything stems from your imagination.

the state that you consistently go to, also known as your dwelling state, is the state that manifests into your 3d reality.

so, how do you get into a state?

you switch states simply by intending to. the second you want to switch states, you do. in order to maintain this new state, you can use a technique such as affirming, scripting, or visualizing.

let's talk about affirming.

affirming is a TECHNIQUE. some people argue that since affirmations are just thoughts, you can never stop affirming and should be monitoring your thoughts all day long. i do not agree with this.

your thoughts do not manifest. it's why i spent my time from summer 2020-summer 2021 affirming on a constant loop 24/7 that i was in a relationship with my [old] sp, and it never manifested. it's why when you get intrusive thoughts they don't manifest. it's why--even tho every time you go to the bathroom you check behind the shower curtain in case something's there--nothing ever is. it's also why you were able to manifest something by thinking you wanted it once.

you do not need to "create new neural pathways" or think in your favor 24/7. your negative thoughts act as indicators that you fell out of your desired state, and you can instantly correct this by shifting back to the state of the wish fulfilled. you don't even need to flip the thought. your thoughts have no power, unless you give them power by allowing them to let you wallow in the state of lack.

all that being said, affirmations can help you maintain your desired state. i say maintain, because getting into the state is instant, and requires no technique. however, there is such thing as affirming from lack.

what is affirming from lack? it's affirming to get what you want. it's affirming from a state of not having your desire. it's the same as thinking of your desire, instead of thinking from your desire.

a few months ago, the 10k challenge was going around. it was marketed as a fool-proof way to get your manifestation, because all you had to do was "affirm 10k times to create a new neural pathway which created an assumption." yet so many people affirmed 10k+ times and still didn't get their desire. why? because they were affirming from lack.

quality > quantity. you can affirm 10k times and not get your desire, because you weren't in your desire state. you can affirm once and get your desire, because you were in the state.

so how do you not affirm from lack?

an easy way is to pay attention to your affirmations. mindless affirming is out! this shouldn't be a scary thing to hear, because as we discussed, there's no need for you to affirm 5 million times in order to reach some imaginary quota, because your thoughts don't manifest.

affirm with purpose! create an affirmation that implies you already have your desire, and repeat it with the purpose of conjuring the feeling of knowing. the feeling of knowing may feel like calm, peace, relief, contentment, or even excitement. when Neville Goddard said "feeling is the secret," this is the feeling he was talking about, NOT emotions.

if your affirmations are making you feel anxious, this can indicate one of two things:

affirming is not the technique for you (which is OKAY!!)

you're affirming to get

"affirming to get" is a big debate as well. yes, you are manifesting your desire because you want to get it in your 3D. but in order to get it in your 3D, you must change your 4D first. so you should be using techniques such as affirming in order to change your 4D, knowing that if you change your 4D, your 3D will follow. there is no one to change but self.

if affirming is not the technique for you, there is always visualizing, scripting, vaunting, etc.

also the distraction technique, my fav way to get into the state of the wish fulfilled! hehe

to sum it up:

"it's not focusing so much on getting the objects, but becoming the one who already has it." - Edward Art

where does persisting come in?

you should still be persisting in the fact that you already have your desire. you persist by consistently shifting back to your desired state, no matter what you see in the 3D.

reacting to the 3D, like negative thoughts, is an indicator that you have slipped from your desired state.

it can be very beneficial for you to have self-soothing tactics to use in case your 3D causes you to spiral or makes you anxious. these can include eft tapping, breathing exercises, etc.

your 3D is malleable. if you see something in your 3D that you don't like, you can change it. your 3D is simply a reflection of your dwelling state. if you don't see what you want in your 3D, let it serve as a reminder to shift your state back to your desired state. once again, you change your 4D to change your 3D. there is no one to change but self.

FAQ

question: if you can affirm to get into a state, doesn't that mean your thoughts create your state and that your thoughts technically manifest?

answer: WRONG! like i've mentioned earlier in this post, you enter a state by intention. affirming can help you maintain the state, but your thoughts do not create your state. your state creates your thoughts. every state has thoughts that correspond with it, which is why can manufacture affirmations that imply you already have your desire and repeat them to conjure the feeling of knowing. it's also why negative thoughts act as indicators that you fell out of the state.

question: isn't that the same as someone saying "just assume?"

answer: NO! there are techniques to help you maintain the state. yes entering a state is instant, but there are techniques for you to use to stay in it.

question: are states ableist?

answer: NO!!!! this is something that people are saying on loatwt in order to villainize the people who teach states, and it's frankly disgusting. ANYONE can get into a state, even if they are neurodivergent! you are always in a state! you're in a state right now. i am neurodivergent, as are most of my friends that are states enthusiasts, and it has helped all of us to manifest our desires without driving ourselves to mental exhaustion by affirming 24/7.

question: how long do i have to stay in the wish fulfilled?

answer: it's not so much about how long you stay in the state, it's about frequency. no, not frequency as the law of attraction vibration bullshit, but how often you go back to the state. if you think about your desire 15 times a day, you should shift back into the state 15 times that day. if you think about your desire 5 times, then you should shift back into the state 5 times that day.

hopefully this helps clarify the idea of states for you, and helps you manifest your desires!! <3

#law of assumption #states #neville goddard #loass #manifesting

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fallingdownhell · 1 year

Note

Takes place when the Sumeru 4 (Alhaitham, Kaveh, Cyno and Tighnari) are still Akademiya students.

You're that one quiet, unassuming classmate of theirs who wears large, nerdy glasses and your main goal is to graduate without any attention drawn to you

Too bad, that backfires when one day, you somehow forget to wear your glasses to class and all of your classmates realize just how pretty you are.

Cute, I like this one.

Characters Included: Alhaitham; Cyno; Tighnari; Kaveh

Content: gender neutral reader; nothing else as far as I am aware

Word count: 1,2k words

Something short and sweet. Have fun!

Alhaitham

he does a double take at you as he looks up from his book

he's heard the whispering among other students, but didn't pay much mind to them, thinking they were over exaggerating again, like they always do

when you walk into class, looking completely different than you usually do, it takes him by surprise

is that really you? can glasses really have that much of an affect on people's appearances?

well, whatever it is, he doesn't say anything to you, just simply focuses back on his book

throughout the day, he notices that you became the main attraction for everyone. People coming up to you and asking questions, swarming all over you

he had half a mind to ignore them and just leave the situation, but upon seeing how uncomfortable you felt, trapped in this situation, he supposed he could lend a helping hand

under the guise of having to talk to you about something related to a project, he removed you from the situation

he stayed with you until you reached a quiet corner in the house of Daena, where you thanked him for his help

he just nodded at you, not really saying anything further but just looking at you

you begin to feel uncomfortable again, what if he views you as an attraction of sort like those other people?

yet, he simply asks you why you're not wearing your glasses again

having not expected him to say anything, you answer that they broke the other day and you're still waiting for them to be repaired

he just nodded again, then left and went about his day, but not before telling you to seek him out should you require his help again

you look after him, dumbfounded, not sure why exactly Alhaitham, of all people, was engaging in conversation with you and offering up his help to you

little did you know that he thinks of you as quite cute without your glasses. In his mind, they could just stay broken so he could continue to admire you..

Cyno

Does not recognize you

AT ALL

He doesn't mean it in a bad way or anything, but you genuinely look like a completely different person to him without your glasses, so what is he supposed to think?

When you walk into class that day, he sees you and immediately walks over to you, asking you if you switched up your classroom since he's never seen you here before

you're confused about his statement, telling him that you're in the right room and that you've been part of this class for the last half year

again, does not believe you

even when you tell him your name, he refuses to acknowledge that it's really you. He thinks it's someone walking around and pretending to be you

you have to show him your ID and even then, he's still not fully convinced

after all, if what you're saying is true, then the only thing different about you is you not wearing your glasses. But that little thing can't have that much effect on your appearance... right?

He wants to argue more, but then the professor comes in, ending the discussion between you two. And after class, you're gone too quickly for him to engage again

the next day, you come into class with your glasses on again and he thinks everything is fine again

He walks up to you and strikes up a conversation with you. As he was about to mention yesterdays events, you proceed to take off your glasses in front of him

"Believe me now?", you asked him

he was dumbfounded

apologizes profusely to you, for at least a week straight. He can't believe he made such a fool of himself. Such an embarrassement!

You quickly forgive him, it's not like he meant anything bad or was harming you in any way. But that doesn't mean that you can't tease him about it every chance you get..

Tighnari

does indeed recognise you

Tighnari, I think, is a person that pays decent amount of attention to all his classmates. Not excessively, but a normal amount

so of course he notices the change in appearance almost instantly, since your glasses were a big part about your looks

however, he notices that people are whispering among themselves, talking about you

most are taking guesses on why you suddenly decided to not wear them. Some guess that they were broken, others think that you just forgot. And some not so nice people think that you're doing it for attention

because, now that you weren't wearing them, everyone could clearly tell how good looking you were

Tighnari found himself getting unreasonably frustrated with those mean people, claiming that you were just seeking attention

so, he decided to go up to you and strike up a conversation. You were confused, but at the same time pleasantly so, about this turn of events

because even if Tighnari paid attention to his classmates, that doesn't mean that he interacts with them often

so for him to go up and talk to you first was a big deal. You offered the seat next to you to him, which he took and sat down next to you

the two of you got into talking and as time went on, Tighnari continued to sit next to you, even after you started wearing your glasses again

he never questions you about it, since you must have your reasons for it

he's happy as long as he get to talk to you, since during all that time, he actually grew quite fond of you...

Kaveh

also doesn't really notice it

Kaveh is always deep with his nose in another architectual project, focused mostly on him and his ideas

he doesn't mean it in a rude way, it's just that he has many ideas and he has to write them down constantly or he forgets about them

so yeah.. mainly focuses on himself than the people in his classroom, but he tries to stay friendly with everyone and keep nice conversations with them

one day, he is assigned to work on a project together with you and the two of you decide to move to the House of Daena where it's more quiet so you can properly brainstorm about it

during this brainstorming, Kaveh keeps staring at you. Honestly, it's really irritating to you , but you try to ignore it the best you can for the sake of your grades

meanwhile, Kaveh is deep in thought. He knows something is different about you, he's talked to you many times, so he's sure that you did something, but he can't quite place it and it's driving him crazy!

Until... he suddenly has a moment of realization!

he gasps out loud once he's gotten it, making you look at him questioningly

"Don't you usually wear glasses?", he asks you then, wanting to know your reason for leaving them

You hadn't thought he would notice this, to be honest. You tell him, truthfully, that you simply forgot to put them on this morning

"Hmm... you should do that more often. You look quite dashing without them on."

he says this matter-of-factly, then simply turning back to focus on the project. Meanwhile, you're a blushing mess from his unexpected compliment, yet he doesn't notice

he means what he said to you, but he didn't think it would have such an effect on you

but, thinking back on it now.. maybe this was the moment that the infatuation with each other started for the both of you...

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alotofpockets · 6 months

Text

Workout | Natasha Romanoff

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Reader

Prompt: “I think I’m gonna feel that tomorrow.”

Masterlist | Marvel masterlist | Words: 1k

How your girlfriend had been able to convince you to join her for her boxing workout was still a mystery to you. Well, you knew it was because you couldn’t deny her when she sent her puppy eyes, accompanied by her adorable pout your way. Natasha was one for early runs, and morning gym sessions. You on the other hand, loved sleeping in and doing the bare minimum training you needed to complete as an Avenger. So, waking up with her this morning, instead of going back to sleep after she pressed a kiss to your forehead, was a big task on its own. After many kisses, Natasha managed to get you out of bed. You enjoyed a quick breakfast together, before you headed down to the gym.

You had just finished your warming up, and Natasha was now wrapping your hands for your first boxing lesson. The Compound gym was empty beside the two of you, one of the perks of it still being early, no one would be able to see you make a fool out of yourself. “All done, baby.” Natasha says as she squeezes your hands. She helps you up and together you make your way over to the punching bags.

Before you start hitting the bag, Natasha shows you how to place your feet, and how to punch. She makes you dry punch a few times before she deems you ready for the real thing. You throw your first punch, you hit the bag well but there wasn’t a lot of power behind it. “Here, let me help.” Natasha says, stepping closer. “So, you felt how there wasn’t as much power behind that as you intended, right?” You nod in agreement. “Okay, so how you can fix that, is by altering your stand slightly.” She places her hands on your hips, and with her left foot, she pushes yours forward a bit, while simultaneously twisting your hips a bit to the right. “Now, you have a firmer stand, which will allow you to punch harder.” She steps back again, “Try it again.” She was right, you were able to hit the bag a lot harder this time.

Natasha continued showing you different techniques, before she let you go at it for a while. Wrapping her own hands to get her workout in as well. You were actually enjoying yourself quite a bit, as the workout simultaneously was also a way to punch out some of the frustrations that were clouding your mind.

When Natasha took off her gloves, you thought the workout was done. Even though you were enjoying the exercise, it was also very intense. You were sweating all over, and getting exhausted. But instead of taking off her wrap as well, she simply took a few sips of water and made her way to the boxing ring, “You coming?” You bring your towel and water bottle over to the ring. “Let’s do some sparring, and don’t worry, I will take it easy of course.” She knew you had seen her sparring with some of your other teammates before, so she wanted to reassure you right away.

She teaches you the basics of sparring, different punches, and how to duck properly. You go back and forth for a bit, before Natasha says she wants to do one real round, where of course she is still taking it easy, before ending the workout. Noticing that you were getting tired.

You throw a few good punches, though Natasha is able to block them easily, you were impressed with how good the punches were. You block a few of Natasha’s punches too, before she gets on in. The punch hits your shoulder, as you weren’t able to fully duck away, the motion makes you fall over. You reach for Natasha instantly, but that just makes her fall down with you. Your back hits the mats, and Natasha falls down on top of you. She props herself up a bit, now straddling your waist. “Are you okay?” Worry laced in her voice. “I think I’m gonna feel that tomorrow, but yes, I am okay.” She gets up and reaches out her hand to help you up as well. “Come on, let’s call it a day.”

After drinking some water, Natasha drapes your towel around your neck, doing the same for hers, before she wraps her arm around your shoulder. “You did really well, darling. I am so proud of you.” She says bringing you closer to her side. You make your way back to your shared room, where you share a long, and warm shower. Natasha agreed to spend the rest of the day cuddled up in bed.

You put on one of Natasha’s hoodies and a pair of your own sweats. Natasha opted for one of your shirts and a pair of shorts. “I’m going to get us some food, why don’t you pick out a movie in the meantime?” She leans in to kiss you softly. Once she’s out of the door, you turn on the tv, and scroll through the list of movies, before settling on one of your favorites.

It doesn’t take long for Natasha to get back to your room, with a tray full of food. She hands you a protein shake, “Here, this should help.” You take the shake from her, “Thank you, baby.” Natasha sits down beside you and hands you the plate of food she prepared for you. The two of you finished your meal before starting the movie. You cuddle into your girlfriend’s side as soon as the movie starts, she plays a kiss onto your head. “I love you, detka. Thank you for joining me today.” You smile, though you know that she can’t see it. “I love you too, and of course, I love to participate in the things that you love.”

You spend the rest of the afternoon cuddled up in bed, having a little movie marathon after the tiring workout from this morning.

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#natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #black widow #natasha romanoff x you #natasha x you #natasha x reader #natasha x y/n #black widow fic #black widow x reader #yelena belova #natasha romanoff imagine #marvel imagine #marvel x reader #mcu #mcu x reader

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gojoidyll · 1 month

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There is No Law that Emperors Must be Fair

Emperor ! Jing Yuan x Princess ! Reader

Chapter 3 | Deals with Devils

Summary | You are set to marry the Emperor, Jing Yuan. In order to break the engagement, you stage an accident and fake having amnesia. But now, you own cruel, cold, and distant fiancé, who seemed to not want anything to do with you, is now acting all lovey dovey!

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“Follow me.”

That same day, Blade had left to clear out the halls because apparently you and him were going to go meet Dan Heng personally instead of him coming to you. Which was fine, Dan Heng was an important government official that worked even more closely to the Emperor than Blade. So, Dan Heng walking freely among the halls will get anyone’s attention right off the bat which is exactly why you and Blade were going to meet him instead of the other way around.

“I thought we were going to wait a few days before knocking this deal out.”

“It’s best just to get it out of the way now then later.”

You winced when you both turned a corner. The bruises and aches you sustained from the stairs were still fresh and very much hurt-, “h- hey!”

“Keep quiet."

Blade had picked you up not a moment later and proceeded to carry you down the hall, his arms wrapped tightly around you as you had no choice but to do as he said. And honestly? You weren’t complaining. As lang as you weren’t on your feet and moving around, your injuries weren’t hurting.

Before too long, he stopped at a door. Looking around to make sure no one was watching him carry you in some random room, he opened the door. Then once he closed it behind himself, he carried you to an empty chair and settled you into it.

“Oh? She’s already awake? And since you brought her here, I’m guessing the whole amnesia thing didn’t work out.”

“How-“

“Anyone with half a brain would be able to tell you did that on purpose in hopes of getting home.”

“Then why did it fool the Emperor?”

“Who knows?”

He did know, you could tell, but he wasn’t spilling. But whatever. It didn’t matter. As long as you got out of here, then you didn’t care why it worked on the Emperor.

“Alright, fine. Can we talk about this deal already then? I imagine we don’t have much time.”

Dan Heng looked to Blade and they both nodded.

“We need you to steal something from the Emperor, and then once we take you home, we need you to steal something from your father.”

You deadpanned, “are you kidding me?! If I do that, then I won’t be a princess anymore! I’ll be labeled a thief and get my hands cut off!”

“Only if you get caught.”

“And remember,” Dan Heng chimed in, “we can always go tell the Emperor what you were planning. Hell, we can even tell him how you planned to get amnesia, steal this important item, and then leave as if you did nothing wrong.”

“You-“

“So, it’s best to work with us, then against us.”

You bit the inside of your cheek, “fine, whatever, what am I stealing from the Emperor and my father anyway?”

“Two keys.”

You deadpanned again, “what.”

“You’ll know them once you see them.”

“Ok, and where are these keys anyway?”

“One of them is in the Emperor’s personal chambers. A place where only his fiancé is let in.”

“His…personal maids are let in there too, but they are too loyal to the Emperor, which is why you will come in handy.”

His personal maids… you knew what that meant. Your father warned you that some royalty takes maids to bed. You suppose that Jing Yuan was no different.

“And my father’s supposed key?”

“We will worry about that once you get the Emperor’s and back home.”

You sighed, “and what do I get out of this?”

Dan Heng stepped forward again, “you won’t have to marry the Emperor, and once you’re free from our deal you can go back home and never have to worry about us or the Emperor ever again.”

“Ever? So, the fact that I’m stealing these keys won’t ever trace back to me?”

“Correct.”

“…You said that the key is in the Emperor’s room, how am I supposed to get in there anyway?”

“Get close to him and let him take you to bed.”

“What?”

“You’ll be fine. Besides, if it gets too scary in there you can always play the scared virgin card and get him to back down.”

You huffed, “you two are brutes.”

“We could be worse.”

Dan Heng checked the time then, “enough idle chatter, take her back to the infirmary. We can discuss more later.”

“So what am I supposed to do now,” you asked while Blade picked you back up.

“Act like you have amnesia, play the innocent victim, and look at the Emperor as if he created the sun, the moon, and hung the very stars in the night sky.”

“You’re serious.”

“Very, and try to act genuine, and don’t overact either.”

“Ok, mom.”

Dan Heng glared at you right before Blade carried you out of the room, “you just like to push everyone’s buttons, don’t you.”

“Oh can it, Blade. Besides, why do you both need those keys anyway?”

“It’s best if you don’t know. For now, worry about yourself. Because I can’t promise your safety if the Emperor finds out about your charade.”

“If he does, then can you promise me something?”

“What?”

“Kill me.”

Blade glanced down at you, his hold on you tightening ever so slightly, “why?”

“We both know how ruthless the Emperor can be. If he finds out, then I will basically be sentenced to a life of torture and misfortune even if I do manage to escape. Death would be far kinder in that regard.”

“I…understand.”

Once Blade took you back to the infirmary and set you in your bed, he took up guarding right by your side once more, “I’m sure I don’t have to tell you, but as Dan Heng mentioned, the maids are loyal to the Emperor. Don’t trust them. Also,…a few of them are the Emperor’s favorites, so they tend to get away with more stuff than a princess ever could. So be wary of them. I won’t always be by your side.”

“Alright…”

“Get some rest. You have a lot to do tomorrow.”

“Like what?”

“Dealing with the Emperor, of course. I heard he canceled all of his meetings for tomorrow to be with you.”

“Huh? Why?”

“Because I told him you woke up but needed more rest, so tomorrow he could speak with you.”

“…I hate you.”

“Thank you.”

Please note that I couldn't tag everyone as it says "no blogs found" sorry for anyone who wanted to be tagged 😔

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ratridingaskateboard · 3 months

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Tear You Apart

Eddie Munson x Fem! Reader!

TW: 18+, wet dream, p in v, cursing, bdsm, sexual acts, sexual fantasies, etc.

A/N: The trigger warnings would be too long if I mentioned every sexual act ever done in this story. We would be here all day!!

Synopsis: Eddie has had a crush on Y/n since the day she stepped foot into Hawkins High School. After constantly fantasizing about her, will fantasy finally become a reality?

The second Y/n waltzed her way into the main hall of Hawkins High, Eddie was awe-struck. She was clad in a bleached jean jacket capped in patches and pins of metal and rock bands. Many of them Eddie hadn’t even heard of. The Black Sabbath t-shirt she wore had been ripped to shreds, showing only a tanktop underneath. Her plaid red skirt swayed as she walked and had boys and girls anticipating for a gush of wind to reveal what was hidden under that scanty piece of clothing. To no one’s surprise, within minutes of walking in she was quickly pulled into the principal’s office for dress code violations.

The hall had erupted into gossip over who this mystery girl was. No one at Hawkins had a single clue who she was or why she chose their school to be graced with her presence. Eddie had never seen anyone like her in Hawkins, if he had he would’ve known. Just seeing what she was wearing made the blood rush to his cheeks but the second he saw her patched covered jacket he was practically on his knees.

This was his chance to finally get with a girl who he shared similar interests with. Don’t get him wrong, Eddie loved getting laid no matter what type of girl it was. But most girls had little to no interest in Eddie, they just wanted to see what it was like to fuck the school freak. They didn’t complain but they didn’t speak about it either. He was, to put it simply, a conquest. Now he had the ability to be around someone who, he hoped, wouldn’t shun him away like the others.

Eddie’s friends gathered around him at his locker, passing comments about the new girl and her clothing.

“God- I hope they don’t give her a pair of pants to wear.” Gareth hissed under his breath.

“I think I saw her bra underneath her shirt” Jeff added.

“The second you guys see a girl you are like dogs! I am surrounded by barbarians!” Dustin was quick to be the voice of reason. It was hard for teenage boys to view any girl as a person much less a girl who showed a little skin.

“You’re right Dustin. Did you see her jacket? It was covered in Metal patches. She seems cool.” Eddie finally added.

“Sorry Eddie- I was a little busy looking at other pieces of clothing she was wearing.” Gareth said.

Eddie rolled his eyes. One of the things Wayne had taught Eddie once he had reached puberty was to be a gentleman. Apparently, Gareth was not given this pep talk. Obviously, Eddie was attracted to her but he had to push down the want to tear her clothes off in order to form a relationship with her.

Hours had passed and she was still no where to be seen. Eddie assumed the principal must have sent her home with the list of violations she had achieved on the first 15 minutes she was inside the school.

Lunch was no different than usual except for the extra chatter of the mysterious new girl and her fondness for revealing clothing. Eddie pushed the food around on his lunch tray, disgusted by the unknown meat with the rancid smell.

“Hey-“ A gentle hand pressed against Eddie’s shoulder. The smell of cigarettes and vanilla filled his nostrils. Eddie looked up to see his friends wide eyed, staring at this unknown figure behind him.

“I like your Dio patch. That’s my favorite album by them.”

Eddie moved his neck to look at her but he found himself too embarrassed to look her in the eyes. Instead, his eyes focused on the jacket she wore, naming each band in his head- trying to get his mind off the absolute fool he was making of himself.

Shit, her hand was still on his shoulder. His face turned to a shade of red he didn’t believe was possible to achieve unless in scorching hot weather.

“Don’t mean to be an asshole but your sewing isn’t the best.” She traced a line with her finger against the trim of the patch. Eddie could still feel the softness of her fingertips even through the denim of jacket and cotton of his shift. Suddenly, Eddie felt the warmth of her breath against his ear.

“If you ever need someone to teach you, I would love to.”

Her hand moved back to his shoulder and lightly squeezed it, sending spikes of electricity through his spine. Then, she was gone.

Eddie’s face remained just as red as before. His fellow Hellfire members tried to help him regain consciousness but Eddie remained silent. He was stunned. He had never felt so weak. She toyed with him and he didn’t even fight back. He had never felt so powerless. In most situations he had had with girls, he was the one who approached and the one who lead. But, she… she was different.

“Eddie, dude, you should probably go to the bathroom.” Jeff patted Eddie’s shoulder, finally getting his attention.

Eddie looked down to find his dick as stiff as a board in his pants. Jesus Christ, he needed to get his shit together. This girl was messing with his fucking head.

After a moment in the bathroom, Eddie was able to go about his day as normally as he could. He still stumbled whenever he thought of the softness of her hand or the smell of her perfume. But as long as he didn’t see her he was fine. Right?

After Hellfire, Eddie returned to the trailer he shared with his Uncle and plopped himself on his bed. God- was he exhausted. Didn’t know being teased by a girl would make him so tired. His eyes fluttered closed and he gave in.

“E-Eddie please,” Y/n wimpered, looking up at him with big doe eyes, her hands restrained behind her back.

“Please what?” Eddie persisted, his leg pushing in between her thighs, feeling the warmth of her.

“P-Please fuck me!” She huffed, grinding her hips against his thigh. She seemed so helpless now. Her dominance was subdued by him and she had become a mess of herself.

“How much do you want it?” Eddie whispered in her ear, her perfume smelled even stronger when he was this close to her neck.

“I-I want it so bad, Eddie! Please I’m begging you!” She wailed.

He loved seeing her like this. Fuck, it made him feel like he was gonna cum in his pants. He couldn’t make her wait any longer and neither could he.

He started to reach his hand under her shirt when-

He woke up. It was a dream. It was a fucking dream. And one thing he knew about dreams like these, they always end the same.

Eddie lifted his comforter to find his boxers covered with jizz as well as the sheets underneath him. Eddie’s face crumpled into a frown. He had to get her back for this.

A/N: Dont worry there will be a part two coming soon!!! Hope u enjoyed

#eddie munson #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x reader #stranger things #Spotify

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