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#anyway then i saw him and  i gasped
thebrainrotsreal · 2 months
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WORLD'S WORST DAD GETS PONY-IFIED!!! Nolan when I catch you, Nolan when I catch you Nolan- but made this mf a OP as fuck unicorn. Wings? Nah he just carries his own weight or makes one out of magic. Hair? Way longer mane 'cause unicorn. He gets a pointy, straight horn because he would use it like a spear and stab people with it. Eyes are red to match his magic color, no more baby blue for him. Banned. Fur pattern/marking looks like a mustache instead of being a mustache. Pony Name? Iron Hoof because something something strong as iron, could trample you, something, something.
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vikobelo · 2 years
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orpheus my beloved
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partangel · 7 months
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hanging out with my coworkers is such a delight miss me with that i hate my coworkers lifestyle i go out to drink sangria with mine to simultaneously juggle conversations between ingmar bergmans daughter, stand up comedy bits, the question of how much is lost in translating ancient greek and planning on how to steal passion fruit that was ripe for the taking in this very specific open space
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fellpyrean · 1 year
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Claps hands alright we’re doing this! So I started listening to magnus archives a few months ago and it really did things to my writing ideas, so now I’m gonna round some up and post ‘em. 
I forget where/when I first saw a moth!jon but u know. He’s cute. So here is some moth!jon AU! Corruption Jon :Dc and archivist Sasha! ~1800 words. 
Since he is a corruption avatar in this, there is (as expected) some possibly gross bug imagery, but not a lot of holes. And no worms! :D
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The flat is quiet. 
Quieter than Sasha expected, and much neater too than she expected when they connected this one to "Filth." The lights are off and there's a faint dusty, sweet scent in the air as she cracks open the door, torch slicing through the dark. 
It catches on motes of dust. She thinks she hears movement, a susurrus of rustling like fabric faint in the depths of the place but little else. She pushes the door further, feels it catch on the ragged old rug on the floor and watches moths flutter up, batter against her torch in little puffs of dust before they flutter away. 
Part of her worries as she steps inside, as she closes the door behind herself - leaving just a crack in case she needs to get out fast. 
This is too quiet for something of the powers. The flat should be more of a wreck, more… more miserably bloodstained, more disgusting and unnerving, but it looks, honestly, just a bit messy, a bit moth-eaten. The couch sags a bit wrong, but hell, she can't pretend she's never had one like it. There are shelves of books, their edges chewed and pages no doubt holey, there's even a mug left forgotten on the kitchen counter. It's all dim; lit only by what spills around heavy curtain edges and her own torch as she steps further in and - and hears that rustling again from the end of the hallway and heads straight for it. 
More moths flutter up at her steps, and she is wary, she is. But the things just… flutter uselessly at her hands, their wings shedding dust and their fat abdomens plump and full, but hardly a threat before they fly - further inside. 
Towards that faint rustling noise, towards the door at the end of the dim-lit hall that is just open enough to allow the frantic moths to flit inside. Writhing and wriggling at the crack between door and jamb just a moment before they vanish inside, but the movement… it makes Sasha swallow. 
Something about the way the bulbous little things squirm before they pop through sets her stomach on edge. Too many of them; more than she thought, all struggling to squeeze into that door. 
The crack writhes by the time she reaches it. 
She can swear she hears them whine and click and screech in tiny voices above the din of their frantically fluttering wings.
She uses her torch to push the door open. Fast, loosing a cloud of moths from the stuffed crack that fall and flutter and scatter into the dim room before her. 
The rustling has not gone quiet. Neither has the soft, whining song of flapping wings and voices she cannot place as she raises her torch high, fumbling for her pepper spray in her other hand. More of a comfort to herself than any real belief it would accomplish anything against something abnormal, but the room doesn’t… change. Nothing leaps out of the dim shadows, nothing comes ravening towards her with a horrid, dripping maw. 
It’s a bedroom. The bed is really as far as the light peeking around the curtains lights, in thin, dusty stripes across worn rugs and a small pile of abandoned clothes. 
“A-Ah.” 
Sasha whips her torch towards the voice, and stills. 
There is… there is something like a man there. Tucked in the corner, with all the moths frantically fluttering, scuttling towards it. She watches, stomach queasy, as the moths drill between the heavy folds of the blanket? The wrap? It has folded around itself. It reaches a hand out to a particularly fat straggler and cradles it in its palms like a treasure, bringing it up slowly, carefully, and opens thin, paled lips and lets the thing crawl straight into its mouth as Sasha gags. 
It is almost worse then when it looks up. 
Long, straggling hair that was probably rather nice once. Now it is loose and lank, black shot with grey and dust that hangs over… over his shoulders, over the thing he has cocooned himself within. His eyes are dark. Too dark. 
There are no whites, she realizes, and cannot help but feel her fingers twinge around the pepper spray. 
But he isn’t attacking. He is just looking at her, head cocked like a curious animal as the moths burrow back into the shelter he offers. 
She can work with this. She sucks in a breath, wills her stomach to settle as she tells it it could really be so, so much worse, and points the torch further towards the floor. Good manners. Going out on a limb that he’s probably not too fond of bright light. 
“Hello,” she says. The strange man stares at her. Hard enough she swears she can feel the tracks his eyes leave on her skin, but she only makes herself stand taller. He seems to like that. He laughs. Not maliciously. 
It’s soft. Like cotton, like it’s been a long while since he’s used his voice, and the rasp sticks to it as he speaks and Sasha tries not to linger on where exactly that moth went. 
“Hello, Archivist. Doing house calls?” 
He’s smiling. And that’s what gets her. 
His voice is soft and smooth like old silk and his smile stiff like he’s unused to using it, but something about him feels familiar. It’s there, just at the corner of her mind, and she knows she’s frowning deeply as she casts a line and tries to hook just why she feels like she knows this strange man, but then he laughs again and stands. 
He rustles as he does. That… that thing wrapped around him doesn’t move the way it should, not like cloth, but she can’t immediately place that, either. Not until he walks a little closer and her torch light catches on it and it… shimmers. 
Like moth wings. And Sasha sucks in a breath. 
She can see it now. The patterns in the dusty brown, the oranges that circle white to make massive, partly hidden eyespots. The thick, dark veins supporting the overall structure, and she can’t help herself from blurting out, “Can you fly with those?” 
The man shudders, that smile hung unmoving on his face as he brings a hand to his mouth and coughs against the static. 
“Not well,” he answers into his hand, his too-dark eyes sparkling. He lets his hand drop back into the too-layered folds of his wings and shuffles a little closer; his wingtips drag across the floor, like a blanket wrapped around a child too small for it, and she can see now where his long, untied hair turns into something shorter. A ruff of fur at the back of his neck, across the back of his shoulders.
(Can see the moths wriggling down into the fur, settling there, an army of tiny, coal-black eyes staring out at her, glinting green when her torch light catches them.) 
And then he stands still, that faint smile on his face, his dark eyes half-lidded in an expression she cannot place, and waits as that soft, soft distant song hums in the room. 
Sasha exhales. This is more than she dared hope for. He’s talking. He’s non-aggressive.
“I,” she begins, wetting her tongue before plunging back into her words. “I was wondering if I could ask you some questions. About the ‘Filth.’ About you.”
He watches, and she feels emboldened. 
(Her phone begins to ring as she steps closer to him, and she ignores it. It’s Elias. She knows.)
“We don’t have answers. And if you could tell me, tell us what you know? About… about what’s happening.” 
Her phone stops ringing. It starts again. The man smiles wider and reaches out. Sasha can see that his hands are… strange. Plated like chitin, and the desire to grab his hand and investigate each delicately plated joint wars deeply with the uneasy reminder that there are probably moths crawling beneath, of statements that were far, far more explicit about what ‘Filth’ did to a person than this man showed. 
His hand waves in front of her face for a moment and she starts, coming back to herself, as her phone angrily rings again. 
“Your phone?” the man asks, and Sasha doesn’t hesitate for a moment to shut the thing off. 
(Elias. All three calls. If he doesn’t want her here, then she’s not leaving.) 
“Well Archivist,” and she knows she is not missing the strange bitterness that clings to that word this time, knows there is something she is missing about him, “If you have that many questions, we should probably get a little more comfortable. I have a feeling that once I let you start, you’ll keep me well after dusk.” 
And isn’t it bizarre? As he brushes past Sasha - both carefully and clearly telegraphing his movements so she only feels the barest touch of his wings as he heads back out into the hallway - she realizes she doesn’t feel afraid of this one. A little disgusted if she thinks about him too hard, yes, but there’s been no threat. No… no menace, no winding, evasive non-answers, just. Incredibly human remarks. It almost circles right back around from comforting to even worse than something as alien as the thing with the door. Michael. 
But as the rustling moves away from her down the hallway, she can’t help but flash her torch around the bedroom. One last bit of nosiness. 
An old, worn bed, rather like the couch. Shelves with books so moth-eaten they’ve gone to pieces. An open closet, filled with over-large sweaters and… She blinks. And oddly proper button ups, slacks. 
And then… and then she turns her torch in one last semi-circle and catches upon a strange shine beneath the lumpy pillows. 
Like polaroids. 
The itch that there’s something she should know only grows when she spots them; growing from a thing at the edge of her thoughts to an all consuming need that drives her in fast steps across the dusty rug before she even catches herself. She fishes the pictures out with deft fingers and - and she thinks her heart stops in her chest. 
She knows the people in the picture. 
That long, dark hair shot with grey is distinctive - even set on a much more vibrant, lively face, and above a painfully crisp button up. He’s wearing glasses in the picture, and. A name tag. 
She can’t read the name, but she’d recognize that emblem anywhere. Not that she needs to. 
Because beside the stuffy librarian like man, his eyes green instead of black, stands… Tim. Tim, his shirt as loud as ever, his smile boisterous, and an arm slung affectionately around the man who couldn’t possibly be any more his opposite. And the same horrible name tag pinned to a pineapple-strewn lapel. 
The man worked at the Magnus Institute. 
He worked with Tim. 
She knows his name now. 
Jonathan Sims. 
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skitskatdacat63 · 9 months
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are there any other historical figures you like I'm intrigued 👀
Okay buckle in, somehow this post will be weirder than any of my f1 stuff bcs for some reason I'm very intense about historical figures, I think I just have a tendency to treat them like blorbos
Mostly I'm endeared to powerful figures, idk why, it's the way it is. Okay so obviously you already know I like Napoleon(and Wellington to an extent), that really doesn't need to be emphasized anymore
Since being in Austria, I feel super endeared to Maria Theresa. She just seemed like such a boss! I think she's just really cool. Her father changed the plan of succession so she'd become Empress(rather than her cousins), but immediately upon taking power, she was immediately embroiled in war over her being the new ruler(everyone who had signed the treaty of succession suddeny reversed) But she defended her rule of the Habsburg monarchy! I think the coolest part about her is that her husband, who married into the Habsburgs, was supposed to be in charge, but she wouldn't let him be involved at all practically and was the de facto ruler of the Holy Roman Empire for like 20 years. She had 16 children and was basically constantly pregnant and having kids while involved in war, yet still held power and guided Austro-Hungary through it all 🥹 I think it's very funny also that she was laying out so many reforms, guiding the country basically just herself, and still found time to write letters to all their kids and be an overbearing mother. Also she was Marie Antoinette's mother?? I'm still shocked by how many important kids she had. If you've been to any part of the former Austro-Hungarian(+ Bohemian) Empire, she really left her mark, there's soooo much stuff named after her. The statue of her in between the Kunsthistorisches and the Natural History Museum in Vienna is really cool, and that she has a whole Platz named after her with her giant statue!!! I think it's just really admirable that a woman at that period of time had so much power and ruled so efficiently. (MY god sorry I wrote so much)
Okay now I'll try to refrain from the historical rambles, I also like: Julius Caeser(cliche sorry I know), Dmitri Shostakovich(my favorite composer ever), Pyotr Tchaikovsky(pls read about his sugar mommy patron), Erwin Rommel(I like his nickname: The Desert Fox), J.C. Leyendecker(favorite artist, I am obsessed with his work), Alphonse Mucha, Calvin Coolidge(not the best president by far but the anecdotes about his social awkwardness and quietness are hilarious to me), Ernst Gideon von Laudon(not completely insane about him, but it's like with the Napoleon Crossing the Alps painting, I saw a painting and bust of him and now feel weirdly endeared.) And then there's probably some others I can't recall atm because it's 3 am
I think my top three though are Napoleon, Julius Caesar and Maria Theresa. They're all just very: "Catie saw a painting/statue and is now very weird about it." And then being in the vicinity of so much history made it 1000x worse. Things I saw in Vienna that made me go "oh my god it's blorbo from my history book": Napoleon Crossing The Alps painting(I seriously sat in that room for probably 20 mins just staring at it, I didn't want to leave) + some other various Napoleon artifacts in the Heeresgesichtliche, a very nice bust of Julius Caesar, and literally the entirety of Vienna had Maria Theresa everywhere
#i said before but i do think its funny to have historical blorbos bcs it makes people go 'what is wrong with you'#all my friends on that trip soon learned my napoleon obsession once we stepped in that museum....#you guys are learning too much about my psyche between this and the OC posts#you thought I was unhinged only about F1? dont worry. it gets worse.#i just like reading and then holding info i guess so i can go on random rants#and history is the best to read about!!#mostly though im incapable of being normal about anything i have to be unhinged about it#but gahhhhhh im having actually a lot a lot of fun with all the napoleon stuff lately#thank you guys for encouraging me <3#for some reason that era imprinted on my brain and its always there and i cant escape#so being able to use it and indulge in it is so much fun#also i found this random person's blog and they are way more knowledgeable abt Napoleon than me#i was having so much fun reading through their blog and learning!!!!#anyways yes here pls take my rambling this one is especially bad#why did you have to ask 😭 you dont know what you unleashed in me 😭😭😭#* gotta add#the napoleon thing is sooooooo bad#like ill see a tiny ref to him and ill get all 😍 about it#like i think one time in Russian we were reading names of historical figures in cyrillic#and i saw napoleon and i like had such a 'gasping maiden' moment#WHY AM I LIKE THIS WHY DID MY BRAIN DO THIS TO ME#i dont get it either so dont question it JDKFLGLG#i mentioned but someone asked me 'so why do you like napoleon so much' and im just ?????? i dont choose what i brainrot over.#catie.asks.#catie.rambling.txt#sorry its late and i feel deranged#no FPs for me! too busy and too tired
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hellaephemeral · 1 year
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i have accepted the cANON fact that everyone just calls isagi mom now and will ignore the actual meaning of it in the bllk universe. isagi is mom.
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hydrachea · 2 years
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FGO really looked at Cú Alter, the most spiky, dangerous-looking servant we have, and went "You know what we should have him wear for the 7th anniversary? A bridal veil."
And it was the best decision they ever made.
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annypuff · 2 years
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bro
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screampied · 26 days
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if requests are open, can we see nanami x breeding kink? i know he would be the perfect daddy 💕
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❤︎ ໋𓈒 husband nanami finding out he has a breeding kink.
warnings. fem! reader, mating press, breeding kink, praise, soft dom nanami, mdni.
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breeding.
he wouldn’t even know he had such a kink until afterwards, finishing inside of you for about the third time with hot puffs of air running from his lips.
his eyes, dark brown pools that intently stared into yours, he’s in utter love with you and only you. your current position was supine—your legs would be perfectly sprawled and spread for him. mating press, such a deep and thorough angle. so deep to where you were practically seeing stars.
“… you drive me crazy, you know that?” he’d huff out lowly between rough breaths. you stare at him with glossy eyes, a hand softly clinging onto his wrist. he was always so gentle, deep yet precise strokes to make you feel every inch. such eyebrows of his curl up and furrow as he intakes a single sharp breath, the feeling of such thick ropes spewing inside your walls makes him groan. “always s—so good at milking me.”
sloppy hips thwack and drill into you, and that’s when he leans right up close to you—you’re met with lust filled fawn eyes and a needy smile.
“ah. eyes up here, wanna see that pretty face,” and his tempo was so unhinged. you glance up at him and he mutters off a soft, “hi my love,” and you could have just melted right there. nanami lightly presses a hand against your tummy, a thumb swiftly tracing near the exact spot where he was reaching you inside. so full, you moan before he leans in to kiss you, yet instead, he conceals his own whine into the crook of your neck. “this—tummy would look so pretty if it was nice ‘n round for me like last time.”
the very corners of your lips tugs, it outlines into a sweet pout before you whimper, “make me fuller then, kento,” you’d heave out. he was jackhammering such merciless yet tenderly passionate thrusts into your cunt, effortlessly smacking back against you. “wanna f-feel fuller.”
you had the white bed sheets bawl into the palms of your hands. everything felt so warm, his hips just continued to rotate and jerk and jerk and jerk. it was hypnotic, he knew just where to prod the head of his cock right against you.
you’re nearly drooling. just imagining such lengthy ropes of his pump you full. you wanted it, no—you needed it. desperately, you were practically being fucked into the mattress—the mattress in question creaked and sang in such harmony it was hard not to ignore its sounds.
the entire feeling, you were clamping down on him so tight that his jaw tenses. a simple sight like that was oh so sexy in the slightest, nanami lightly bites down on his lip. a cute flushed expression slowly painting over his face once he catches you still staring. he was chasing his own breath, giving you slow yet perfect full vivacious thrusts.
“k-kento,” you’d moan with a slight gasp, he brings a hand to slide your arms all the way up. it’s almost teasing, the way he makes you hold your hands high, a soft simper rests against his lips the entire time. your legs quaver, feeling how easy it was for him to stretch you out. his touch, it was blisteringly hot, blisteringly tender.
he made sure to delicately trace his fingers all over your skin. he wouldn’t dare miss a spot. not with a body as perfect as yours. that’s what he saw in his eyes anyway. “so—so goooood, don’t s-stop baby.”
“wasn’t gonna,” he huffs out, and his voice was so raspy and rich. a subtle coarse of baritone hidden underneath his deep tone. you peer up at him and he leans in to kiss the tip of your nose. “if my princess wants to feel more full, i’ll do just that. give her anything she wants.”
you whimper, feeling him hit such a sensitive angle, he hit it just right too.
the crown of his dick made its way through every crevice of your walls. he reached in spots that you didn’t think he’d reach — not at all, you failed to hide your moans by this point and he thought you sounded so cute. knowing he was the one to make you sound like this, feel this way, it made him happy. that’s all he wanted, your pleasure was his pleasure.
every. single. spot.
whilst your toes curled, you feel your back start to seemingly arch on its own before even more sweetened whimpers fly past your sheeny lips. “give m-me,” you started to speak. he raises a brow marginally, brushing a thumb against your lower lip before feeling himself about to bottom out. at that point, he was fully inside, you felt it and you only mewled out a candied, “give me another baby kento. please.”
“oh,” he softly murmurs, and his tongue playfully licks against your neck—a sweet lap, he savored your taste before teasingly starting to nibble.
“gonna give you triplets this time,” and he brings a hand down your chest, then towards your stomach, real slow. you moan once he gingerly lifts up your leg before giving your ankle a kiss. “this what you want, sweetheart? more of this? more of … me?”
“yes,” you pout, feeling your cunt just swallowing his hefty shack, his base smacks back and forth against you to where you’re almost giddy. you felt like you were on cloud nine, nanami’s strokes, his thrusts hell, his enticing rhythm had you nearly speechless. you let off a soft meek once the shivering cold metal of his watch band slithers against your skin.
the more he touched you, the more close you became to making yet another mess on him. of course, like the good husband he was, nanami would happily clean you up.
“y-yes, kento,” you repeat in a honeyed voice, by this point, your legs were well wrapped around his waist. fully having him in a secure lock, not ever thinking to let go, you couldn’t nor did you want to. he drove into your gummy walls so good that you let off the sugared most melodic moans right up against his earlobe. “want…..another baby.”
“i know you do,” he hushes, bringing a chaste kiss towards your collarbone. you swallow a thick imaginary lump that grew into your throat. only tiny squeaks would come out — you moaned, tightening your legs hold around him before you started to picture such fanciful things.
fanciful things like nanami pouring yet another a thick load into you, and as you’re deep in thought he’s doing just that. a gasp gets caught in his lips before he leans up close to you. his broad chest presses up against you before he groans. out of all the notorious enemies he’s had to fight, he was simply no match for your pussy. its grip had him being the one with his eyes nearly rolling back.
“f-fuck,” and you felt yourself throb, making direct eye contact with him. it was rare, yet hearing nanami swear was so infrequent.
it was the way he swore, spewing out such filthy words underneath his breath. long ruffled strands of messy hair nearly occluding his view of vision. he reaches to move some of his hair away from his face, just so he could get a good glimpse of you—a good glimpse of his wife.
“look at me,” he says in a soft tone, he was buried so deep within you, you saw how his muscles tensed and his jaw tightened. he made his hips come to a halt completely before he leans in to gift you with another kiss. “mwah,” he smooches near your jawline, “mwah,” near your chin, and a final kiss near your lips.
your heart, it fluttered.
nanami felt warm all over his body, as well as the sheer warmth that coated him from being inside you. “i—i love you,” you’d whine, feeling such massive velvet ropes of cum going all inside of you. he merely lets off a purr at the way the back of your heel skims down his back. “so much.”
“i love you,” he returns it. his mouth briefly opens, and he was about to say ‘more’ but he pauses. nanami’s weight was still hovering over you before he brings a same big hand down towards your tummy. “now, we wait. you’re such a good mommy for me, sweetheart.”
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indecisivemuch · 2 months
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Apples
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Pairing: Luke Castellan x Reader
Summary: You tossed an apple to Luke without knowing the meaning of it in Greek Mythology (fluff, friends to lovers, happy ending)
Note: Just wanted to write something lighthearted and funny. Since I saw somewhere that apparently throwing an apple at someone means something in Greek Mythology, thought I should use it as a prompt.
Word count: 3.1k
You have been at Camp Half-Blood for a year. Within that time, you’ve been claimed by your Godly parent, learned so many things about Greek mythology, and, best of all, made friends who understood exactly what you were going through and all whom you loved dearly. 
One of them was Luke Castellan. You two were relatively close friends, though you swore he treated you differently than he would with others at camp. But you didn’t want to be foolish and assumed it was something. That didn’t mean you don’t treat him differently than you would with other campers though. You have always had a soft spot for Luke in your heart. You weren’t exactly sure when it happened, but you found yourself thinking about him too often.
“Anyway, Percy. Don’t worry too much, honestly. We all have been through what you’re currently going through. You’ll fit right in, yeah?” the younger boy offered you a lope-sided smile as you patted his back and stood up. 
“Alright, boys, I have to go now, but I’ll see you later,” you said before grabbing your plate, which would have been empty if it wasn’t for the apple you hadn’t eaten. The rest of the table - which included Chris, Luke, and Percy - said their goodbyes before chattering again as you walked away. However, you halted as you changed your mind about wasting the apple.
You turned back to look at the group before calling out, “Hey, Castellan.” However, you were slightly caught off guard to see Luke already having his eyes on you.
Luke swore that you have always had him mesmerized. If he even heard a whisper of your voice, his head would immediately try to locate you. To make matters worse, Chris even started calling Luke a “lost puppy” when he realized how your departure would always leave Luke like one. 
“Catch,” you tossed your apple at Luke. 
Multiple heads turned in your direction as the red apple hurled through the air before landing neatly in Luke’s hands. The Hermes cabin counselor had his eyes glued onto the fruit that was in his palms. You almost halted in your steps from his and other camper’s reactions. Some started whispering to their friends, pointing at you. You even heard one gasp. But you ignored them, finding it strange that people cared so much about such a small interaction.
“You can have it. I don’t think I’ll have time to eat it,” with that, you vanished from the scene, leaving at least half of the camp agape, including Luke and your friends. 
Then, the strangest of things happened for the next few days. It started with Luke already stationed outside when you exited your cabin the morning after. He cheekily presented you with one singular flower in his hand, and you took it with playful words, “Ooh, what did I do to deserve this special treatment today?”
“Nothing, just thought I should show how much I appreciate you,” Luke put his arm over your shoulder as the two of you made your way to the dining pavilion. You could feel your cheeks flushing at his action. He has never done this before. With his arms around you, the sides of your bodies brushed as the two of you walked. You noticed almost immediately how every other person would have their eyes on the two of you. But you ignored the attention and focused on Luke instead.
The sweet actions didn’t stop at flowers or more physical touches. For the next three days, Luke was stuck to your hip. So it was quite strange that you have not spotted the Hermes cabin counselor in the last two hours. Hence why you were spending some time with Clarisse, another close friend of yours. However, you felt an arm swinging around your shoulders, and you instantly recognized who it was from the familiar touch.
“Hey, Clarisse, can I borrow Y/N real quick?” Luke asked, quickly muttering a “thank you” when your friend nodded. “So, I have something to give you…” your face must have shown how surprised you were because he chuckled at your reaction. However, when the boy pulled his gift out from his cargo pocket, your mouth fell slightly agape at the reveal. 
Luke must have misinterpreted your reaction because he started nervously rambling, his voice a few octaves higher, “It’s not much, but honestly, this is all I can do with my arts and crafts skills. I’m just not really good with that y-”
“It’s perfect, Luke. Thank you so much!” you gave him a brief hug, but it was enough to stun him for a second. Luke felt this urgent sense of craving from how your bodies fit for a second. It’s as if he was made to hold you. He almost pulled you back into another hug but had to force himself to regain composure. Nevertheless, that didn’t last long because his eyes softened again at the sight of you trying on the bracelet he made. The beads in your favorite color, crafted with care, wrapped around your wrist perfectly, and you wonder how he knew just the right size to make it.
The truth was Luke had to ask Clarisse to steal one of your bracelets just so he could make a bracelet of the correct size. But you didn't need to know that, though - according to him.
The next night, there was a social gathering near the campfire. Luke reapproached the location with a hoodie in hand. Earlier, Luke excused himself to fetch the clothing item that was now in his hand that was meant for you. However, his brows scrunched as he spotted another figure next to you, sitting in the spot that he previously occupied. You were laughing at something they said. The way your laugh echoed in his head usually sounded like a lullaby or the enchanting voice of a siren. But right now, the idea that someone else elicited the same laugh made him want to hurl behind the bush he was standing next to.
Little did he know you were zoning out from whatever the other boy was speaking about, thus the fake laugh to not blow your cover. You were distracted just thinking about Luke and everything he has done so far - offering his portion of dessert to you because he knew it was your favorite; him winning Capture the Flag and ignoring everybody else to go hug you first, then having his eyes on you and only you afterwards; sneaking out of camp to go buy the items you mentioned once that you wish you had at camp and so on. 
Your mind quickly reminded you that the boy sitting next to you was still talking to you. However, when you snapped out of your thoughts again, you realized now he was looking at you expectantly and you scrambled your mind for a reply.
Thank Gods Luke plopped down on your other side, saving you from having to admit to the other boy that you were not listening to him. “Hey, you’re back,” you commented. Luke’s arm automatically threw itself around your shoulder and tugged you to him slightly. Your body leaned on the Hermes cabin counselor ever so naturally at this before you turned to him. Luke quickly set his clothing on your lap, and you stared at it questioningly.
“You’re cold, right?”
“Oh, yeah,” your cheeks flushed again at how he knew without you telling him. You shivered maybe once or twice earlier due to the night air lowering the temperature, but it was so brief you were sure nobody had noticed. As you put on the hoodie, Luke averted his gaze from you to the guy on your other side. 
The Hermes cabin counselor arched one of his eyebrows in a challenging manner. Almost immediately, his ‘opponent’ slightly raised both of his hands. Luke internally snickered at the quick motion of surrender. 
“My bad, man,” you heard the other boy say as you managed to put your head through the clothing item and pull it down. Luke was physically preening at the other boy’s words and departure. Meanwhile, you were distracted by how you were engulfed by the smell of Luke from his hoodie. Your height difference also meant you were swimming in it, but it felt so comfortable.
“What was that?” you asked once the other boy was gone. 
“Nothing…” even the most oblivious person could see that Luke was lying. But, once again, you did not question his actions and carried on with the gathering. You could also feel other campers staring at the two of you, but you ignored that as well. 
That night - like every other night since four days ago - he walked you back to your cabin. You were honestly completely smitten by the attention he has given you, not that you would admit that to him. You were still not sure what caused the change, but you were still elated about it. Maybe he did return your feelings? Either way, everything felt perfect lately, and you went to sleep that night feeling like the stars aligned for you.
“I guess congratulations are in order?” Percy spoke up as you lined up for food the following day. 
“What do you mean?” you asked, taking the plate of food. Today’s meal consisted of mac n’ cheese, steak, and an apple. 
“You’re engaged?” you almost dropped your plate at that and gave the son of Poseidon a questioning look. “You proposed to Luke like a week ago?”
“What? When?”
“When you threw him the apple? That is considered a marriage proposal.”
“Since when?”
“Uh, in Ancient Greek culture, it’s considered a marriage proposal if a man throws an apple at a lady. But, I mean, it’s the 21st century, so I guess it can work both ways.” Percy finally took a plate of food for himself. “And if the recipient catches it, it’s considered an acceptance.”
“You saw this and knew this whole time without telling me?!?” 
“I thought you knew! And you two seem so smitten already, so I thought you did it on purpose.”
“Percy, no! Is this a well-known thing? Do you think other people who saw it too thought I proposed to Luke as well?” Seeing Percy’s look and how he was fumbling with his words, you quickly requested, “Actually, no, don’t answer that.” 
The two of you walked over to Luke and Chris with plates in hand. You picked up the apple on your plate and placed it on the table. 
“Luke, we need to talk,” You deliberately placed the fruit there, hoping the boy would get a hint about the topic you wanted to discuss. Luke’s eyes flicked from the fruit to you. Though the hint of amusement in his eyes and a sheepish grin made you realize he knew all along. Luke stood up and followed you out of sight and hearing distance from other campers whose eyes were trailing after the two of you.
“You knew what it meant, and you didn’t tell me?” You broke the silence as soon as you two were far away enough. 
“Listen, I appreciate your proposal. But, it’s a little bit fast, don’t you think?” Luke teased, and you instantly hit his arm at that, causing the boy to flinch slightly, but the smile on his face told you he was anything but mad at your action.
“But you caught it. So, technically, you said yes,” you rebutted, sighing as you rubbed your face, “My Gods, does everybody at camp think we’re engaged? Wait, is this a substitute for an engagement ring? Did you give this to me because of that?” you pointed to the bracelet Luke gave you, your mind now understanding Clarisse’s teasing and her implications. You could see the way Luke was stifling a laugh. He settled with saying something else when he saw the pure panic on your face.
“Sweetheart, calm down.” the nickname successfully silenced you. You hated how it made you feel, but you would not mind hearing that daily. “No, it’s not an engagement ring.”
“Oh, so were you doing all of these romantic gestures and gifts on purpose to make fun of me and the situation?” you asked, though it was more with a lighthearted tone than one of temper. However, something shifted because the expression on Luke’s face changed from one of humor to earnestness.
“No, I didn’t do all this to make fun of the situation or you…” Luke’s voice fell off as tried to find the right words to say next. In that split second, Luke took a deep breath, and you could see how nervous he suddenly became, though he still kept a light tone. “I did it because I took it as a chance to maybe…win you over, and it also gives me an advantage because it fended off many other guys.” 
Undoubtedly, you were frozen in place, unable to register the words he was saying and the implications they bear. Neither did the boy in front of you act like the Luke you usually know - somebody who was usually confident, outgoing, always having his way with words. No, the person in front of you could not even hold eye contact, the pink hue on his cheeks now spreading to the tip of his ears as he shifted left and right. Luke broke the silence first, giving away the nerves that were gnawing him away from your lack of response.
“How about this? I’ll say ‘no’ to your mind-blowing marriage proposal for now,” you lightheartedly hit him again, rolling your eyes playfully. Seeing a positive reaction from you, Luke let out a small breath of relief, but the nerves quickly overtook again as he mustered up all the courage to utter his counter proposal: “But maybe we could start with something slower like going on a date? — Or I’ll even settle with you allowing me to try and ‘woo’ you.” Luke added the last bit as insurance, in case you didn’t want to take up on the date. Part of his mind wanted to scowl at himself for seeming so desperate - but Gods, he has always been a desperate man when it comes to you. 
“You’re such a dork.”
“Yet you still proposed to me.”
“You’ll never let me live that down, will you?” Luke only shook his head in response. Once again, you haven’t responded to his offer. Luke could see that you were in deep thought, the cogs turning in your head as you digested what he just said.
“You mean it? That you wanna go on a date? That you wanna “woo” me and sweep me off my feet?” you questioned. Despite the humor in your voice, there was also a hint of vulnerability and cautiousness. “Does this mean what you’ve been doing for the past few days…they are all genuine?”
“Is it that hard to believe that I like you? I don’t think you even fully understand the feelings I have for you. I’ve had my eyes on you for a year now, which is the entire time I know you, and I’m afraid I can’t see that changing any time soon.” Luke had to bite his tongue to prevent himself from saying more because he was sure he would never stop talking about you if he could. Maybe those unspoken words ought to be things Luke would disclose in the future. If you give him the chance, he will ensure you hear everything he adored about you.
“Well, that’s good then, ‘cause I happen to like you too,” your words made Luke’s eyes snap to yours, almost in disbelief. 
Luke felt as if his heart was blocking his airway by the way it was thumping so hard in his chest to the point he could feel the vibration in his neck. He held his breath over your confession and the way you were looking at him. Oh, Luke was convinced he was utterly doomed because how could he be so affected by one single look. He was suddenly unsure whether he would be able to handle your affections or ever live without it if it was taken from him. He’d spend the rest of eternity like a deprived man.
“Aw, look who is nervous now,” you teased, deciding to somewhat torture him and get him back for teasing you earlier. “I did not think I had this kind of effect on you, Castellan,” you approached him slowly, keeping eye contact with his now dilated pupils. 
“I mean…all I did was say a couple of words and you’re all tongue tied. What would happen to you if I do this?” you swiftly grabbed Luke’s camp beads and pulled him down, eliminating a significant amount of space between your faces, though not completely. To steady himself during your action, Luke’s hands steadied on your hips and stumbled slightly, though you did not mind the touch.
You never knew it was possible for his face to flush even more, but it did. Luke gulped and your eyes casted down on the way his Adam’s apple moved when he did so. The way he reacted to you only intoxicated you with power even more. You glanced upwards a bit, eyes observing his lips for a split second before looking back up at his eyes. You smirked when you caught his eyes flickering back to yours from your lips as well. 
Just as you were about to close the distance, Luke pulled back just a bit, finally able to speak, though his words were heavy warnings, “If this happens—” Luke stopped, unsure he should let you know. Luke shook his head lightly as his eyes traced over your features before continuing, “If we kiss, there is no going back for me. I don’t think I could just…forget about it. So, please, just be sure before you do it.” Your eyes softened at his words.
“I promise, Luke. I am sure,” you muttered, though Luke knew you meant the words by heart from the way you were looking at him. 
You finally pulled the boy down again using his camp necklace. 
As your lips touched Luke’s, he let out a content sigh. His hands clung onto your hips, pulling you flush against his own body while you caressed both sides of his face in your hands. Luke felt like the world was swallowing him whole. The boy now knew what your lips tasted like, and it felt like an addiction. He could feel his heart waving white flags at that moment, completely surrendering to you. He was right before. There was no going back from this. 
But oh, if Luke knew an apple was all it took, he would have tossed one to you himself.
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tender-rosiey · 4 months
Text
“KEEP THE PRIEST! WEDDING NO.2 STARTS!”
— gojo, sukuna, nanami, geto & toji when you catch the bouquet at a wedding (f!reader)
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a/n: if you don't have a cousin then now you do and thanks for being patient with me everyone! <3
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GOJO SATORU:
 a family member of yours was finally getting married—something you never thought would happen since she was always complaining about all her boyfriends, but hey at least someone finally did it.
anyway, naturally, you took your dear boyfriend as your date.
the wedding was going smoothly, drinks were exchanged, food was distributed, and cakes were eaten—much to your lover’s delight.
another thing that kept happening is people trying to introduce their daughters to satoru.
his instant response was to wrap an arm around your shoulder and pull you close to him, kissing your cheek and chirping a “sorry, but I am happily taken!”
now it was time for the part that a lot of people wait for: the bouquet throw.
your cousin was already crazy, so she has been waiting for it so she can throw the bouquet with all her might. on the other hand ,you and the other ladies were lined up and patiently waited.
one swing, two swings, one faint throw, and finally the bouquet was thrown into the air, heading towards its next owner.
a chorus of ‘its mine! mine!’ filled the room, but relentless, you maneuvered your way into finally catching the bouquet in your hands.
you’ve won the battle.
but wait. it seems like there is a contestant that won’t back down.
“let go of that bouquet, young lady!”
you look behind you and gasps, it is—“satoru?!”
“yes, satoru!” your boyfriend huffs, making his way towards you.
he firmly takes a stance in front of you, contrasting his intimidating position with his infamous pout, “it’s not fair for you to take the bouquet!”
you sway your hip to the side sassily, “does it make a difference? we’re getting married either way!”
your boyfriend shakes his head, “no, babe!” he places his hands on his chest, pushing his theatrics till the top, “I need to be the star!”
he crumbles to the floor and you merely stare at him in silence.
you see your cousin approach you and your boyfriend, “first of all, I am the star, and second, if you don’t stop fighting, I am taking the bouquet back.”
your boyfriend gasps clinging to your legs, “babe, your cousin is super mean!”
you pat his head with a sigh and he happily presses a kiss to your thigh. what a taxing man to be with.
“sweets, I wanna pee.”
taxing child.
RYOMEN SUKUNA:
your boyfriend was—surprisingly—invited to a friend’s wedding, which he hated as he was planning on taking you to a stargazing sight because you’ve been talking about it ever since you saw it multiple times on tiktok.
so, here you are with your boyfriend put into a suit by force.
you’re pretty sure that he is going to rip it any moment, but you would rather he does that when you’re both alone: you don’t necessarily mind a show.
anyway, you are sat with your dear lover who hasn’t stopped frowning since you’ve entered the darn hall.
the only good social thing he has done so far is greeting the groom and the bride. other than that, his hand never left yours and he stuck by you.
it’s cute, though, even if he argues that he is anything but.
you hear them announce that they’re finally throwing the bouquet so you give sukuna a quick peck then run to reserve your space.
now, you get very competitive in certain things, and this is certainly one of them. you will be going home with that bouquet.
and true to your goal, the moment the bouquet is at a height you can reach, you jump at it, holding on for dear life.
your feet reach the ground once again, and you raise your hand in victory, “I did it!”
you don’t see sukuna rolling his eyes fondly and with a proud grin that screams ‘that’s my girl’.
after a bit of applause, you quickly turn to your boyfriend and walk towards his table, radiating with confidence.
you place the bouquet on the table then you lean on your elbows, “I caught the bouquet,” you wink, “what do you think?”
“of course, you would get it,” he hums, “you’re mine, and I don’t settle for less than the best.”
you roll your eyes and lean towards him, swirling the drink that you stole from him, “it’s quite the commitment that we’re getting into,” you then look and lock eyes with him, “think you can handle that?”
“there’s nothing I can’t handle, loser.”
you giggle before cooing, “aww, you love me so much,” he gently shoves you, before his arm is wrapped around your waist, pulling you back towards him.
“I tolerate you.”
“so love!”
“no.”
NANAMI KENTO:
jingling bells, clicking heels, steaming food, and loving couples including you and your dear boyfriend fill today’s wedding hall.
a mutual friend of yours and nanami finally tied the knot with their lover, and you were happily invited.
it was a never ending party of laughter and happy tears—that you efficiently hid by burying your face in your boyfriend’s chest.
things calmed down a bit, leaving you to fangirl about how cute your friend is to nanami.
“but kento, she looked so cute! she is so pretty! he better not hurt her!”
nanami keeps munching on his bread, “I think she is capable of handling that herself.”
you cross your arms with a huff, “what do you mean?”
“she is carrying a shotgun.”
“oh, you right,” you acknowledge, before running towards the dance floor when you see your friend about to throw the bouquet, “f/n, you better not throw that until I tell you!”
“if you don’t get then you just have a major skill issue!”
you gasp, taking a battle stance in the middle of the of the dance floor. you hear your friend giggle, before she finally throws the bouquet into the air.
from then, it’s a cat fight between you and the rest of the people.
however, you come out as victorious then excitedly running towards nanami, “kento! kento! did you see me?”
“mhm, you looked lovely as always,” he chuckles, giving you his full attention.
you giggle, taking a seat beside him. you start talking about your fight(?) to get the bouquet while nanami stealthily takes a plate of your favourite snacks from the buffet and slides it to you.
you gasp, pressing a quick kiss to his cheek, “thank you, love!”
he hums, eyeing the bouquet, “you know,” then he says, fidgeting with his watch a little, “I can get you a better bouquet if you want—with a side of a ring, of course.”
you were about to finally dig in, but your brain quickly short circuits at his comment, “oh.”
slowly, you turn to him, feeling your face get warmer by the second.
he laughs lightly, hand coming to rest on yours, “I am not joking,” he pulls your hand up for a small peck, “I am just waiting for the right time so please be patient with me.”
GETO SUGURU:
the moment the vows were exchanged, music was blasted to the roof, and everyone was partying to the max.
your cousin, the bride, is dancing to the beat with vigor and excitement you’ve never seen before.
you would like to join her, but geto just won’t let you since he knows that you will somehow end up drunk off your mind and dancing on one of the tables.
so you’re sat with him right now, sulking and glaring at him.
“babe, don’t be so sad now, please? I am only doing this so you don’t accidentally hurt yourself.”
you huff and turn your back on him, “I am a full-functioning adult; thank you very much!”
his hand slowly inches towards yours, “the prettiest full-functioning adult,” he smiles, pulling his chair closer to you. “and the smartest too, did you know that?”
you almost give into his advances—his charming smile is far too lethal—but you’ve developed a bit of immunity to his actions.
so instead, you face him with a teasing smile, “I would love if you tell me more—after I successfully steal the bouquet.”
“steal?”
you roll your eyes, “acquire.”
he laughs lightly, and you take it as your cue to run towards the group of women huddled behind your cousin.
you stand proudly, “c/n, throw your bouquet!”
“no!”
“what?!”
“just kidding!”
and so the bouquet flies and ‘accidentally’ lands in your hands—it’s no accident; you’ve been training your entire life for this moment.
people whoop and applaud, and you bow to audience, before scurrying to your darling boyfriend.
you wave the bouquet in your hand, and he nods knowingly, “guess you’re never get rid of me,” you muse, hugging the bouquet to your chest, “what a pity, right?”
he looks at you confused then sighs with a smile, “I never planned to, but okay.”
you beam at him and throw your arms around him, and he laughs, hugging you closer.
you trace shapes on his back and murmur, “you’re way too cute for your own good.”
“I need to charm you one way or another, you know,” he replies, motioning for the waiter to get you two more drinks.
he stays silent for a moment, “you can go get hammered—“
“not!”
“okay, not hammered with your cousin.”
“yay!” you scream joyously and run away.
guess who ended up drunk and dancing on a table.
FUSHIGURO TOJI:
toji and a wedding?
it’s a combination most would not expect, but it isn’t his wedding anyway, so he can’t complain about it being too much commitment right now.
the only thing he can complain about is being put into this ‘suffocating’ suit—a sight you love.
“do we really have to stay till the end?”
you turn towards him, mortified, “this is literally your best friend’s wedding.”
he shrugs, “so?”
with a shake of your head, you drag him further down the hall to your assigned seats. at least, holding your hand is enough to pacify him.
the wedding goes as you would expect, aside from toji almost falling asleep.
you are now just standing beside the clearly expensive and delicious buffet—your true love.
toji is happily indulging in the food laid out in front of him, and you are about to do the same, but you notice that the bouquet throw is about to happen.
so you dash out of your seat just in time to catch that rogue bouquet. you raise your hand, announcing yourself as the now rightful owner of this bouquet.
that’s why you excitedly search for toji to show him your new prize.
you rush towards the table that you left your boyfriend at, “toji, I got it!—toji?”
a look left, a look right, your eyes widen. did the darn guy leave the moment you caught the bouquet? no way his fear of commitment is this intense.
you take note of the groom—toji’s bestie—shaking his head.
feeling embarrassed, you frown and yell for him, “toji fushiguro!”
suddenly, you feel a presence behind your back. you feel the person lean towards your ear a bit, and they whisper a small, “hey.”
you gasp, spinning to smack him square on the shoulder, “I hate you!”
he teases, almost like your hit was never there in the first place, “now now, that isn’t something you say to your future husband,” he grins and you scrunch your face in disgust.
you turn on your heel to walk away from him, “kill yourself.”
“what a foul mouth,” he whistles, following you until you finally give up and are given the chance to punch him in the stomach to make for the scare he gave you.
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yanderenightmare · 3 months
Text
TW: yandere, noncon, size/strength difference
gn reader
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Thinking about breaking things off with your fuck friend 'cause you feel he's been catching feelings you have no intention of pitching...
“Why.” He asked, and the cross you’d made on your fingers in a wish to avoid the entire conversation untangled with a sigh.
“Please, don’t act dumb.” You groaned, exasperated and slightly irked. “You know why….” 
“No. Tell me.” He argued, and you sighed again in regret of your own common decency – wishing you’d taken the entire break-off over text instead, or at the very least taken the time to think about what you would say or do if and when he got this way. 
“You...”
You hesitated, taking a second to decide whether or not you really ought to voice it out loud – not because you had any doubts of it being true – but because the man in front of you was still very much a large brawny beefcake with temper issues no matter your sneaking suspicion that he saw you as something more than just a fuck friend.
“You’re getting too...” You continued, still scrambling for better words. Coming up short. “Clingy.”
He paused, his expression going from searching to a mix of offended and scrutinous.
“Clingy?” He repeated, forced disbelief a present factor in his tone. “If I remember correctly, you’re the one who clings to me- screaming my name- begging me to cum inside you and-”
You cut his rant off with yet another sigh accompanied by a shake of your head. “That’s not what I mean by clingy. I’m sorry, I should have said emotional, and your comment just proved that.”
You folded your arms across your chest, watching him reel.
“Anyway, it doesn’t really matter. We’re done.” 
You left him on the sofa to go put your shoes back on – admonishing yourself for coming inside in the first place when you could have just as quickly done this on the doorstep and walked away.
“You're not going anywhere until we talk this through.” He followed, his stronger hand latching onto your upper arm in a grip that was unnecessarily harsh.
You didn’t really mind, though – it was his lack of charm that had charmed you to begin with – you only wished he’d remained that same savage he was and not gone all lovey-dovey soft on you.
“There's nothing to discuss.” You felt as though you were repeating yourself, getting more annoyed by the fact. “It was fun; now it isn't.” You underlined, looking back into his eyes, cringing when seeing the gloss of something that you really hoped wouldn’t amount to tears while you were still there.
“I'm gonna need more than that.” He said, the grip on your arm still kept firm with no inclination of letting up.
You didn’t really want things to get more awkward by asking him to let you go – feeling as though maintaining the position of strength was important so he not mistake your resolution.
He had a nasty habit of never taking you seriously.
“You’re being childish.” You stated.
“Childish?!”
His grip tightened with his outburst, and you’d be lying if you said it didn’t have your heart jump to your throat.
"Let go of me." Your voice had significantly diminished.
"You think you can tease me like this and then tell me to piss off?” He seethed, your arm aching in the bruising grip he had on it as he pulled you close until your face was an inch from his. “Think again."
Your breath thinned under his glare, and you felt nearly too stiff to do anything except stare back up at him in wait.
“Calm down.” You tried, but it seemed choice words were too little too late to save you.
“I am calm.” He hissed back into your face before pulling you back to the sofa.
Throwing you down on your back – you didn’t even have the time to gasp before he was on top of you.
“Get off me-” You whined, your hands shooting forth – trying with all your might to heave him off, but ultimately amounting to nothing more than a slight annoyance to the much larger man on top.
“It's all about sex with you, right? You want to have fun, right?” He said in a craze, and you cringed while he leaned down to graze your chest with chin-stubble and lips, whispering at your peachfuzz until goosebumps rose. “So let's have some fun.”
“Stop it – I said I don't want to anymore – I’m being serious.” You tried, once again – appealing to his reason.
But it would seem he was beyond reason…
“Oh? You're being serious?” He mocked with a sneer and a laugh. “You don't look it. If you want me to stop so badly, then stop me. Come on~ try a little harder. Show me how serious you are.”
You’re not sure why you took him up on the challenge, as you’d long known of your differences in build – how you posed as much of a threat as a bug in a mason jar...
But even a bug will try to escape still after the lid has been sealed.
“Come on~ you're not even trying~” He grossly crooned, smiling at your pitiful attempt at twisting him off with the useless help of your silly hands – how your much smaller body writhed beneath his weight and tried wriggling free.
Laughing dryly, he took your hands by the wrists and pinned them to the cushion beneath you. Sagging over you, his breath fanned your lips.
“What was I to you, huh?” He asked in a murmur, his face blank but his eyes swirling. “Just a toy?”
You were afraid to breathe, only keeping your gaze terror-wide of what he might do – still grasping to fathom how he’d even felt possessed enough to do this much – confused as to how you’d missed the signs while having not a single clue what more he was capable of.
“Guess now you're my toy, huh...” He muttered coldly.
And you just couldn’t help the whimper that it tore from you – finally understanding exactly what position you were in.
The disorienting knowing of what was soon to happen dawned on you mercilessly – and you completely broke under the hefty weight it had. 
“Oh? You’ gonna cry now?” He scoffed before hissing. “That's cute, seeing as I’m the one who’s had his heart stepped on.”
“S-stop it, get off me-” You cried, whole body shaking where you squirmed to no use nor end.
“Not so cold-hearted now, are yah, fuckin' bitch?” Was all he had to say while leaning into where thick streams of tears rapidly ran down your cheeks in stingy streaks. “You scared?” He whispered in licks at your ear. “Gonna start begging, hm?”
You only shook – eyes squeezed tightly to a close.
“Nah…” His tone scraped, similar to how the shaven stubble on his chin scratched lightly against your neck as he started placing small kisses there despite your whines. “'Cause you want this too. I know you do.” He insisted. “You're just scared I'll break your little heart at some point.”
You’re breath hitched as his hands parted with its twin – leaving it to keep your wrists pinned by itself as the other one traveled down between your bodies to undo your zipper.
You wanted to say something, but you were too scared to – listening to him and his lovesick speech – full of so many things you feared could trigger much sicker things.
“But I promise you that no one’s heart is gonna break here.” He vowed, still with his lips pressed wetly against your throat. “Not yours or mine.”
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BNHA – Bakugou, Shinso, Kirishima
JJK – Sukuna, Gojo
HQ – Kageyama, Kuro, Oikawa, Sakusa, Miya twins
BLLK – Reo, Isagi
AOT – Eren
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jyoongim · 3 months
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ALASTOR X READER
~Anyway you want me baby~
Taking Angel’s Poison and giving it a spin.
Porn with no plot? Slight Degradation kink. Pet play. Orgasm denial.
You made your choice to deal with the devil and now you’re at his mercy
No one knew why you were always with the red demon. When the Radio Demon came back from his ‘sabbatical’ he had a pretty little thing by his side.
If people saw you, Alastor wasn’t too far behind.
There were many rumors.
many think you were just his little errand girl.
others thought you were the reason he was gone.
but oh…how wrong they were…
You were a poor, underpaid, and abused dancer. you had met Alastor when he had dealt a deal with Husker in the club you worked.
he had peaked your interest when you witness him strip Husker of everything.
he had power. Power was the only thing in this damned place that got you anywhere.
and you wanted that power.
with his help, you could be and have anything.
and so you made the mistake approaching him.
“I want to make a deal” you said confidently.
his sharp smile widened as he quirked an eyebrow at you.
”what would you give me my dear?”
You couldn’t offer him money. So you took a deep breathe and gave him your best flirty smile “I’ll be yours. Anything you want”
his clawed finger caught your chin, angling your face to bring his face closer “you sure about that my dear?”
you nodded and just like that; you had struck a deal.
but this deal wasn’t what you thought.
you thought maybe he would have you do his bidding, or request you do weird shit.
No.
Alastor had found you mildly amusing that you would willingly strike a deal with him. So he took it upon himself to make a special deal with you.
“What a pretty pet you make dear”
your jaw was aching as you swallowed his dick. You whined at his words. You had been doing this for hours and practically had a puddle of your slick underneath you.
Alastor was sitting above you, leg on your back and purred as you gagged when he pushed your head down further.
you looked so pretty with your lips wrapped around him.
he held you fast in place with your leash wrapped around his hand.
feeling your momentum slow, he slide out of your throat with a pop.
he wrangled you til you were in his lap. The sound of static hummed in the air as he positioned you right above his spit covered dick.
You whimpered in embarrassment as he toyed with your throbbing clit.
he chuckled as your hips sought after his fingers before pushing you down onto his member.
you hissed at the inrustion and let out a moan as he slowly bounced you.
he tilted his head, watching your pretty face contort in pleasure.
“Who said you could feel good dear?”
you gasped as he set a rough pace. You felt the leash tighten around your neck, restricting your breathing as he mangled your insides.
”A-Alastor!”you cried out as he hit that sweet spot inside you.
all you wanted was relief.
his smile was vicious “do my pretty pet want to cum?”
he had asked you this multiple times and you knew what the result was going to be, but frantically you nodded as you hoped he would give you mercy.
but what fun would that be?
Alastor chuckled deeply as he thrusted harshly inside you.
he loved how pliant you were.
you would do anything to please him just to get some relief.
unfortunately for you, that just wasn’t how things were.
he decided when you got pleasure.
he let out a growl as he felt your inside clench around him
”don’t you dare”
you felt tears well in your eyes. You wanted to be good.
but fuck it felt so good.
you let out a high pitch whine when you felt that tight coil in your belly.
”please please please please” you begged.
he flipped you onto your belly and pulled the leash tight, wringing your head back, causing you to gasp as he hovered over you.
Admits his harsh thrusts he placed a soft kiss to your forehead
”how you want me dearest?”
your eyes clenched as he quickened his pace
You were so close.
he hummed and before that coil could snap…
he pulled out and you felt the warmth of his cum spilling on your ass.
you groaned and glared at his smiling face.
he scooped a little off your ass and smeared your lips
”lets try again shall we?” You sucked his fingers clean and whine when he released your leash enough for you to turn around and with only the thought of being able to cum, you spreaded your legs for him again.
Alastor’s ever sharp grin widened at you.
”and how do pretty sluts like it dear?”
“Any way you want baby”
what a good little pet he made you…
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ghost-with-a-teacup · 11 months
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𝐖𝐡𝐚𝐭'𝐬 𝐈𝐧 𝐁𝐞𝐭𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐧 (𝐈𝐈)
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Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x F!Reader
Summary: After you reveal the truth of what your relationship really was between you and Miguel, everyone's keen on learning more. So what better way to give a little more insight than a dinner at your shared home?
Warnings: None~ Just back again with silly shenanigans and the softest of fluff :3
A/N: Hello, everyone! After the first part of 'What's In Between' blew up (you can read it here, thank you so much by the way, you're all so sweet), many people have asked for a part two, so here it is! Enjoy <3
The moment you break the news to them, the volume of the table booms to a fever pitch as everyone begins talking at the same time.
“W-WHAT?!”
“Married? No way,” Hobie says.
“How long have you been together?” Pavitr asks.
“I can’t say I saw this coming…” Miles says, eyes widening in surprise.
Miguel had been watching you the moment you snuck up on the group, but with the newfound panic from everyone he couldn’t help but make his way over to the commotion.
“You’re all being loud, what are you yelling about now?” Miguel asks, walking over and standing by your side.
“HOW COULD YOU NOT TELL US YOU WERE MARRIED?!” Gwen shouts.
“You never asked,” he blinks, “and also, it’s none of your business.”
“Miguel, as your best friend I am deeply offended that you haven’t told me after this long, does our friendship mean nothing to you?” Peter says, hand on his chest in pretend hurt.
“You are not my best friend,” Miguel deadpans.
“After I opened up to you no less, I mean, you were the first person I told about Mayday! All the details-” he continues, ignoring the comment.
“Not by choice,” he mutters.
“Does no one know about this?? At all???” Pavitr asks, “I mean, you two are married.”
“I mean, Jess knows about it,” you gesture, and she only grins.
“And now all of you do too,” Miguel sighs. “Vida mía, I thought we talked about this,” he admonishes.
“Oh, c’mon, it was cute how they were all trying to figure it out for so long. I was starting to feel bad,” you say, smoothing your hair back. He only stares at you for a moment before sighing.
“Fine,” he relents, “Can’t do anything about it now anyway.” He smiles softly at you, and the group watches in awe as their cold leader softens in your presence, but his gaze quickly grows dark as he turns back to the group.
“One word of this to anyone outside of this group,” he says with a pointed finger before trailing off, allowing everyone to fill in the blanks as to what he might do.
Everyone’s faces pale like a sheet at the unnamed threat (well, except for Hobie, he only watches with blatant amusement on his face), but you only laugh.
“Miguel, don’t threaten the kids,” you giggle. “Don’t worry, he’s all bark and no bite,” you whisper to them with a wink.
“Hey, that’s what I say!” Peter says.
“You are his best friend after all,” you grin.
“I have never said those words a day in my life,” he scoffs, but you ignore him, eyes lighting up with an idea.
“Oh! I have a lovely idea, how about you all swing by our place for dinner later? We never have guests,” you suggest.
Gwen gasps, “Really?”
“This…maybe doesn’t seem like the best idea,” Miles says as he shrinks down in his seat at Miguel’s glare towards you.
“I have plans tonight…though I don’t think they’d mind if I cancel,” Hobie says nonchalantly, but everyone knew there was no way in hell he’d miss something like this.
“What am I, cat litter?” Jess asks. She was the only person to have been at your shared home, having joined around the same time as you, and being one of the few people Miguel fully trusts.
“You know it's not like that, Jess,” you turn to her with a grin.
“Absolutely not, it's already a liability that they know querida, now you want them traipsing into our home?” Miguel argues, and you narrow your eyes at him, never one to back down from a fight. While it got on his nerves, it's what he loved about you too. He needed someone that wouldn’t take his shit.
“Miguel,” you say, giving him a look. “All our enemies are literally in alternate universes who, aside from those small tears, have no way to go cross-dimensional, let alone find us in the expanse of a universe. Besides, I think it would be nice,” you say, and Mayday seems to agree since she climbs right up into your arms, babbling happily.
“And don’t think I don’t know you have a soft spot for this lil ragtag team,” you smile, bouncing up and down as Mayday laughs.
He huffs, “I am anything but soft, especially for them. They never listen, don’t follow protocol, are immature, and the list goes on.”
“He’s lying,” you whisper, covering your mouth from his direction as though that would stop him from happening. Mayday grabs your hand though, playing with your fingers happily. “See how his ears are turning red?”
At that, his ears turn more red and the group tries to stifle their snickers to no avail.
“Querida,” he warns. “Do you feel the need to share anything else about me? Or have you had enough,” he asks, poking your shoulder. You place a hand on his bicep with a gentle smile, and his expression softens much to his dismay.
“Honey, I have no idea what you’re talking about,” you grin. “Alright, it’s settled then! You’re all coming over tonight.”
~
You hummed softly to yourself as you moved around the kitchen, preparing the food for dinnertime when everyone would be coming over.
Then, you feel the hair rise on the back of your neck as a familiar presence makes himself known, strong arms wrapping around your waist as his head rests on top of yours.
“Vida mía, the food smells good,” he says softly before sighing. “But I’m not very happy with you today.”
You let out a sigh of your own as you turn off the stove before turning around in his arms to face him.
“Miguel, my love,” you say, smoothing out the collar of the pullover he wore before looking up at him. “I know you well, don’t I?”
“More than anyone,” he says, the corner of his mouth lifting the tiniest amount as he presses a kiss to your forehead.
“Then it’s safe to assume that you’ve been wanting to hang out with more people in the Society apart from work-related things?” you ask, placing your hand on his chest.
“I can’t afford anything like that in this line of work, you know that querida,” he sighs, that familiar hardened look in his eyes for a moment.
“Miguel, your only friends can’t be me, Lyla and Jess,” you pout.
“Vida mía, you are my wife,” he says.
“Yes, and it's miracle enough that I was able to grow close enough to you to get to that point,” you chuckle, “so my existence in your life is proof itself that you are capable of growing close to people. I’ve seen you, I think you’re ready and deep down I know you don’t always want to be perceived as the cold and unfeeling leader of the Society. Why not start with them?”
“That’s not a decision for you to make,” he says, glancing away from you.
“I know, and I’m sorry,” you apologize, feeling a bit guilty that you threw Miguel into this without warning. “I should have spoken to you about it first but who knows. Maybe this is a good thing, opening your heart a little more,” you explain. “Don’t think I realize you’re the hardest on them because you believe in them,” you smile.
He huffs before pausing to think for a moment. “Sometimes I wonder when you snuck your little way into my head, querida.”
“Admit it, you’re growing soft,” you giggle softly.
“Never,” he counters, tickling your side which makes you scrunch up your face as you laugh breathlessly.
“OKAY! Okay, you’re one soft fluffy teddy bear, happy?” you say which only makes him continue with even more fervour.
“That is the most ridiculous thing I think I have ever heard you say, querida,” he snorts but finally relents.
“Yeah….I can’t even say that with a serious face,” you chuckle. “But you do have your moments, tough guy,” you smile, leaning up on your tippy toes to press a kiss to his lips.
“Yeah, yeah. Whatever,” he rolls his eyes. That’s when the doorbell rings, and immediately your eyes light up.
“Oh! They’re here!!” you say excitedly, escaping from his grasp as you move to open up the door.
“Here we go,” he murmurs to himself, and you turn to face him.
“What was that?” you ask.
“Nothing, vida mía,” he replies, and you narrow your eyes in disbelief.
“Behave, Miguel,” you tell him.
“Wouldn’t dream of anything else,” he replies, and you grin before opening up the front door.
There, you find Miles, Gwen, Pavitr, Peter (alongside Mayday of course), Hobie and Jess all standing outside, chatting amongst themselves before turning to you.
Miles almost looks like he’s in disbelief like he couldn’t really believe this was your home quite yet.
“Hi!” Gwen starts.
“Took you lot long enough,” Hobie says. “Was starting to think we'd have to build a fire and cook it ourselves.” Gwen punches his shoulder, to which he lets out a little “Ow!”
“Sorry about him,” Gwen apologizes.
You just find yourself laughing at it all though.
“No apologies needed, we were a little preoccupied. Come on in, make yourself at home,” you say, opening the door a little wider for them to make their way through.
“Not too at home though,” you hear Miguel say, leaning into the foyer from the living room, arms crossed over his chest.
“Ignore him,” you say, giving him a pointed look to which he just stares at you blankly. “Dinner will be ready soon, I just have to set the table and we can eat, alright?”
“It smells delicious,” Pavitr says, “I’m starving.”
Mayday seems to agree as she crawls up from the baby carrier onto Peter’s head, making grabby hands from the top.
“Someone’s hungry,” Peter chuckles. “Got anything she can eat?”
“I have a few things, don’t worry,” you smile.
“It really does smell really good though, but it always does,” Jess adds.
“It’s nothing special,” you say sheepishly. “Just some of Miguel’s favourites.”
You guide them all into the living room. “Settle in! I’ll be done in a snap,” you say.
As you make your way back to the kitchen (with Jess joining you to help out), back in the living room the squad of spiders settle in almost hesitantly, a watchful eye monitoring all of their reactions.
No one dares say anything, only sitting around nervously.
“So…nice weather we’re having,” Peter says, trying to lighten the mood but even Mayday gives him a deadpanned expression.
Miguel sighs. “You’re all acting like there’s a ticking time bomb waiting for you to speak before setting off,” he says, still leaning up against the doorway.
“We don’t know, mate. Is there?” Hobie jokes, but Miles’ face drops anyway.
“There isn’t, for the record. I can be harsh but I’m not evil,” Miguel scoffs before making eye contact with Pavitr who looks like he wanted to ask something but was holding back.
“One question,” he says simply with a nod.
“How long have you two been together?”
“…a little over 4 years now,” he replies.
“How did you meet?” Gwen asks.
“I said one question,” he says before your voice cuts in.
“My universe was one of the first he visited! He hated me back then, though,” you laugh as you walk back in. “Speaking of which!! I have some things you might all want to see after dinner,” you grin mischievously.
“I thought you said I was the one that had to behave, mi corazón,” Miguel says, a warning tone in his voice.
“And I am, aren’t I?” you say, poking his side playfully. “Anyway, dinner’s ready,” you say, leading them to the dining room. “I know it's not much but-”
“How in the hell is this not much??” Hobie exclaims, and you just shrug. “You should see dinner with my family, then you will think that it’s not much,” you say with a chuckle.
On the table sat a wide expanse of food, all of Miguel’s favourites from Mexico. Empanadas as the appetizer, alongside pozole, ceviche, enchiladas, and chicken with mole poblano all served with a side of rice, beans, or homemade corn tortillas depending on each person’s preference.
You can see Miguel’s eyes visibly brighten as he looks at the food, settling in at the head of the table with you by his side.
“Come eat!” As you say that, everyone sits down before beginning to eat, everyone heading straight to what appealed to them the most.
“This is the best thing I’ve ever tasted,” Miles says, eyes closed in bliss.
“Oye, don’t let your Mother hear that, kid,” Miguel says, but the corner of his lip was upturned in the tiniest of smiles. The most he would allow himself around this many people.
“Thank you, Miles,” you smile.
“This, uhh, how do you say it again? Poh-zuhl?” Gwen asks, and you laugh out loud as she turns pink, meanwhile both Miguel and Miles cringe slightly.
“I’m sorry for laughing, sweetheart. You’re almost there; it’s pronounced like ‘poh-zoh-lay’,” you say kindly.
“Ohh, okay gotcha. Pozole. It’s really good! Feels…comforting, almost,” she says.
“Yes,” you say, glancing at your husband with a soft smile, “it’s Miguel’s favourite. Says it ‘tastes like home’.” A chorus of ‘awws’ go around the table, while Miguel only holds the bridge of his nose with a sigh.
“Alright, alright. Enough with the cheesy stuff, let’s get back to eating, yeah?” Hobie says before shoving his fork back into his mouth.
~
Once dinner was finished (and after both Miles and Gwen insisted that they did the dishes despite much argument from you), everyone was settled again in the living room laughing and talking together, and while Miguel only said a few things here and there and sat by your side like a lost puppy, he did seem to be enjoying himself.
“Alright! Now, before everyone goes back home, I have one more thing I’d like to show you,” you say once it quiets down a bit. Standing up, you make your way over to a large bookshelf you and Miguel had built together when you first moved in together.
“I’ve gotten tired of having only myself to show these photos to, so this is the perfect opportunity,” you smile.
“Querida-” Miguel says, holding out a hand to block your way but you look at him with pleading eyes, and he can’t do anything but relent. He couldn’t say no when you looked at him like that.
With a triumphant ‘haha!’ you grab a photo album labelled with a date and a single word; ‘Ours’.
Everyone crowds around as you place it down on the coffee table, and you open it up to the first page.
Gwen is the one that gasps first, eyes wide with awe.
“You both look so beautiful,” she says softly.
There, front and centre was a photo of you and Miguel on your wedding day. You were smiling wide at the camera, a bouquet of your favourite flowers in hand while Miguel only looked at you with an expression so in awe it was as though you painted the stars in the sky.
“You clean up nicely, big man,” Hobie comments, and Pavitr nods.
“Weddings, my favourite,” Jess says, a fond expression on her face as she thinks back to her own husband.
“I had a bird fly into my face at my wedding…but they are nice,” Peter says, rocking Mayday gently as she naps away after the hearty dinner even despite the commotion.
You continue to flip through the photobook, pausing periodically for a little anecdote about each one. Miguel had long stood up to make room for everyone else, but he looked at you in the same way he did on your wedding day.
Like you were the light of his life, the one good thing he had amongst the millions of universes parallel to his own. Like you were his everything.
~
“Admit it, you like them,” you smile, the house finally quiet after everyone headed home. He only rolls his eyes before pulling you into his lap, his face going into the crook of your neck as he holds you close.
“There is a big difference between ‘liking’ and ‘tolerating’, sweetheart,” he says, rubbing circles into your hip soothingly.
“Yeah, yeah, tough guy. Whatever you say,” you reply, wrapping your arms around his neck and settling into his touch with a happy sigh.
You both sit there for a moment in silence, the two of you weren’t ones to fill silence with mindless chatter. If words needn’t be said then they weren’t.
“That was…nice, though,” he admits softly after a little while.
“I know,” you whisper.
~
~
~
“That won’t happen again for a long while though,” he says, pulling away to look at you, crimson eyes pleading with you wordlessly.
You can’t do anything but laugh.
Taglist (for those who requested a part two): @lotustv @mars-ifuknowmeirlplsgoaway @elliewilliamsactualgf @randomhumans-blog @iluvkonig @phillygraves @gothgirlziez
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