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zer0pm · 1 year

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Imagine demanding Luis to unlock your chains. When he doesn’t, you take matters into your own hands.

A/N: DID SOMEONE SAY PART 2 OF THIS PIECE?!

You did and I’m grateful for all the love that has been thrown for my work. So here’s me giving some of that love back. Hope you enjoy 🙏

Warning: SMUT AHEAD. Look away, minors! Look away! Avert your eyes from the sexual content! Shoo! Begone!

Warning 2: It’s quite long so mentally prepare yourself.

“I still didn’t catch your name.”

The cheek on this guy. Using the fact that he holds the key to your restraints as a bargaining chip to become familiar with you. As if he hadn’t just forced you into a partnership with him already. The absolute nerve. You had more important things to do, such as finding Leon and the president’s daughter. And this Luis Serra was effectively wasting your precious time. Well, two can play this game.

You start by offering him an inviting smile before relaxing your hands until your palms pressed flat against his chest. The man didn’t seem to fully register your subtle movement until you slid them upwards, feeling the fine leather beneath your fingertips. The motion takes him by surprise, his eyes following your touch. He then casts an inquisitive glance your way.

“¿Que haces?” Apparently he wasn’t expecting this, convinced that you didn’t much care for him and thus was taken so off guard that he slipped into his native tongue. He must have remembered himself right after as he repeated the question, making sure that it sounded more direct. “What are you doing?”

“What does it look like?” Voice comes out in a low, sultry drawl as you grip the lapel of his jacket with one hand, gently tugging at the material. “I’m about to give you what you want. But I’m going to need you to come closer.”

Once you were certain that you had his complete attention while also making sure that you didn’t lose yourself in the mesmerizing grey of his eyes, you make your move. With your other hand, as best as the chains allowed, you reach for the key that was lodged in the lock of your chains. Disguising your intention, you run your fingers down the expanse of his chest in an explorative manner. This earned an appreciative hum from the Spaniard as he leans his head towards you expectantly.

Too easy.

Mindful not to look down between you two so as to not give yourself away, you lean in as well while also blindly searching for the key. “My name is…” you whisper. His bated breath mingles with yours, the lids of his eyes heavy, grey growing dark in anticipation. Another inch from either one of you and the gap will close. Just as your fingertips touched the end of the key, something warm firmly grips your hand. A sudden chill runs down your spine.

You can hear the reverb of something between a scoff and a chuckle come from Luis’ lips. “Nice try,” he smirks knowingly.

With a strength that catches you off guard, he pushes you away from him. Key in hand. He flaunts the tiny piece of metal before swinging his arm as if he was making a play to toss it aside. In your panic, you jump towards him, shoving him off balance with your shoulder. He breaks your fall as you two tumble down together.

The man curses in Spanish from the sudden pain and you took advantage of this by quickly searching for the key. You spot it a bit of a ways above Luis’ head and use both bound hands to reach for it once more. The chain that links your wrists together are caught by a familiar hand and suddenly pulled down until your hands were restrained between your two bodies once more. You sigh in frustration and the man beneath you clicks his tongue against his teeth.

There is an amused glimmer in his gaze as he speaks. “The stubborn-type, eh? All this trouble over a name.”

You in turn throw him an annoyed glare. “I was going to say the same about you.”

Instead of showing offense, he laughs. “Perhaps we’re more alike than you might think.”

Rather than entertain him further, you try to wrestle against his hold. Luis seemed prepared for it this time, matching your strength, only he had the advantage as he had free reign of his arms and hands. One hand kept your chained hands between your chests, the other gripped at the bicep of your arm, effectively minimizing upper body movement. Out of instinct, you rebelliously wriggle with your hips and legs with the sole focus of getting off of him. However, the man’s longer limbs kept you caged against him and the only thing you managed to do was awkwardly seat your bottom on him, knees bent by his sides.

When you grounded down in your struggle, the man tensed below you. Thinking you have finally one-up him, you repeated the action and noticed he wasn’t nearly putting up as good a fight as he did before. This allowed you to sit upright, dragging his hand with you until his arm extended slightly, and you continued your efforts to be free of him.

Luis’ breath became labored. “Stop.” he commands with gritted teeth, his voice barely above a whisper. When you didn’t listen to him, he moved his other hand from your arm to your hip, squeezing harshly in warning.

“¡Basta! Stop moving!” he growls.

You bark back defiantly, “I’ll get off when you let me get the fuckin-“

That’s when you felt it. Or rather- him. A hardness pressed beneath your nether region. Despite the layers of fabric, there was no mistaking the telling throbbing pushing up against you as if demanding your attention below.

Your throat runs dry but your brain kept sending signals to your mouth. “Ar…. Are you-“

“Sí.” the man had a pained, conflicted look about him, a picture of breathtaking self-control as he kept his body completely still. His eyes didn’t meet yours, gaze locked upon where your hips met as if to keep himself in check and not allow his body’s desires to act out untowardly.

“Surely you know how the human body works,” he tries to sound clinical, face strained in vague distress, “and will not fault me for the involuntary reactions of mine. It already doesn’t help that you’re easy on the eyes.”

You should be chastising him for getting excited when it was neither the time or place and danger was surely around the corner, but bit your lip at your own wave of pleasure upon feeling his arousal pulse. A totally different kind of heat washes over you.

What do you do now?

Neither of you spoke for a moment, a tense silence settling in until Luis breaks it with a forced cough.

“Well, this is- uh, fun.” he says without humor. “Pero, perhaps we can call it even and stop the game here. ¿Sí?”

His words went in one ear and out the other. You were frustrated beyond belief. Fueled by adrenaline and temptation. There was no one around. And you have an impossibly handsome Spanish man between your legs with a hard-on for you.

When you didn’t answer, he spoke up again. “As much as I like this position, I must regrettably ask that you- Whoa!”

As best as you could, you shoot your bound hands straight up in the air. As he still had a grip on the chain link, Luis was dragged upright into a seated position from the floor and his face stopped right in front of yours. The movement caused friction in both of your sensitive areas, mouths could do nothing to stop the groans that escaped them. His eyes open to your heated gaze, confusion and desire swirling in the grey irises.

You breathe, “You talk too much, Luis Serra.”

And it was you who closed the distance. Teeth and tongue clashed in a new battle filled with pent-up energy and lust. Your mind quickly becomes hazy as you allowed yourself to be consumed in his emanating heat and musky scent. A nip at his bottom lip earned you an enthusiastic thrust of his hips, an appreciative squeeze at your bottom rewarded him with a carnal moan from your mouth. The only time you pulled back was for air and the man before you glances between your dazed eyes and bruised lips, hypnotized by your already ruined appearance.

“Are we, uh, still playing the same game?” His question nearly disarms you. You have a feeling he was really asking if you were of sound of mind about this. Your eyes roll reflexively.

“Really going to keep running your mouth?” You then follow up with a roll of your hips, the Spaniard throws his head back with a deep, guttural groan. Dark wavy locks brush against his cheekbones, eyes shut closed. With his thick neck exposed, you steal kisses along his sensitive pulse and stubbled jaw. Another primal groan vibrates from his throat.

“Eres muy mala.” Luis grumbles without a hint of disdain. Rather, when you finally pull back to allow him to look at you, you find him wearing that familiar cocky smirk. “But I must admit, I’m kind of into it.”

A charmer through and through this man is. His next move takes you by surprise.

He shoves you off of him.

As soon as you recover from your initial shock, the dark-haired man grabs you by the chain again and drags you to the far end of the room, further away from the key and exit. Using his strength and your own momentum against you, Luis tosses you forward. Your upper body lands right on top of a wide metal table propped against the dingy concrete wall.

He takes advantage of your momentary state of confusion by forcing your arms to extend towards the wall. It wasn’t until you heard the unmistakable click of metal did you fully regain your senses and look up to see what he did. The arrogant man used one of the wall mounts to lock your chains taut in place. He literally chained your chains. You’re caught in a trap again!

Just as you were about to curse him out, you feel something hard press firmly against your bottom followed by a pair of warm hands settling at your hips and the heat you didn’t realize you were missing came back in throes. You almost wanted to point out how unfair the shift in dynamic was, but all coherent thoughts were thrown out the window when he started grinding into you.

“There,” Luis hums at your apparent silence, “much better.”

Damn him. And he had the gall to say you were bad.

His movements were slow and methodical, like he was testing the waters to see if you were actually fine with this. Your pleased sighs were the signs he needed to continue and go beyond. Next, you feel his curious hands rubbing at your sides over your shirt before he lifts it enough to slip them beneath the fabric. Feeling his skin on yours sent chills throughout your body. His touch wanders, palming at your every curve, line, and muscle and you melted into his hands, encouraging his exploration.

The temperature in the room was becoming unbearably hot. As if hearing this thought, you were pulled up by your torso as far as the chains would allow and felt your back meet his chest. Now, his hardness was at your lower back and you purposefully melded your backside against his straining cock, mentally drawing the length of him. Needless to say, without even seeing it, you were impressed by his size. The man didn’t carry himself confidently without warrant. A soft, almost adoring kiss upon the shell of your ear pulls you from your shameless thoughts.

He whispers hoarsely, “My friend, are you particularly fond of this shirt?”

“What?” you manage to choke out. “Why are you aski-”

The sound of tearing answered your question before you can finish it. Tattered fabric scatters around your feet and the air within the room suddenly felt like soft caresses on your bare torso.

“You didn’t even let me answer!” Your voice sounded more excited than annoyed.

“Lo siento. You were too slow.” Luis presses another chaste kiss to the side of your head. However, you can practically feel his wicked grin. “And frankly, are much too sexy for clothing, anyways.”

Damn, this man was making you feel things.

Despite your skin now bare against the elements, it did little to alleviate the heat building within you. It only amplified when his hands returned to your form, making a slow, sinful journey from your stomach to your upper chest. The pad of his fingers push upon the sensitive buds of your nipples, earning a wanton gasp from your lips. His hips jerk forward at the sound you made, his erection pulsing against your ass, sparking tiny, wonderful jolts of electricity within you. The sensations were making your toes curl.

One hand sneaks back down, his thumb finding it’s way under the hem of your jeans and underwear. His reach teases towards your sensitive spot and you bite your lip in anticipation, wanting so badly for him to touch you where you need him to but your mind too much of a mess to voice it into proper words.

“Mírate,” his warm breath fans against your ear in hoarse, gentle whispers. “Promixa vez… Te quiero llevar a la cama.”

You only manage to translate “Next time…” until the synapses in your brain fire all at once when his fingers began to toy your sex without warning. When his skillful hand deftly undid your jeans, you didn’t know, but at the moment, you didn’t care.

Holy hell. This guy was playing your body like a fine-tuned instrument and your voice eagerly sounded to his ministrations. Your moans and gasps music to his ears. The coil in the pit of your stomach was tightening to the point of snapping as his hand quickened the pace upon your bundle of nerves. He was stroking you graciously while also harshly grinding you into the edge of the table from behind. Your voice was reaching greater heights from the onslaught of overwhelming sensations.

“Last chance, my friend.” Luis growls, barely reigning in his instinct to simply bend you over and have his way with you. “Are we still playing the same game?”

The same question echoes. He asks one thing but really means another. This dashing, infuriating man is asking you if you want to go all the way, past the point of no return. Luis Serra is a stranger. Yet he had the sense and consideration to weigh your feelings in the matter, giving you an choice to opt out even though it would have been so easy to let it lie and let your baser instincts take over. It was almost romantic in a way. You didn’t have to think twice about this.

“Either you fuck me now,” you pant, chains clinking around your wrists, “or I’ll find my way out of these and fuck you myself.”

Luis chuckles lowly in intrigue. “¿Prometes?”

He makes quick work on the rest of your clothing, letting your pants and underwear fall at your ankles. He helps guide you completely out of them. It was probably a strange sight. You completely exposed while he was completely clothed. The only bits of him you can hear rustling is the buckle of his belt and the zipper of his pants coming undone. You were starting to shiver from anxious chills until you felt an arm wrap around you assuringly.

A patient hand gently fingers your entrance, preparing your body for something larger. You eventually move along rhythm of his fingers, goading him to take it to the next level and he acquiesces to your silent request. The heavy heat of his cock that was poking between the gap of your thighs move upwards. Your body instinctively tenses when the head of his member prods against your opening. Luis’ lips pressed against your temple in comfort and finally, finally, he slowly sinks into you. You gasp and he curses.

No amount of foreplay could have prepared you for him. Not all the way in and already you felt so full of him, his cock throbbing against every sensitive nerve inside of you. You whimper in both pain and pleasure and Luis tends to you by wrapping his arms around your middle, planting more kisses along the side of your head right behind your ear.

“Estoy aquí, ángel. Té tengo.”

Like the gentleman he portrays himself to be, he waits for you to relax around him. With great self-control, he pumps into you slowly with a tenderness that could bring tears to your eyes. The initial discomfort soon faded and was replaced by wonderful bouts of sensual ecstasy that has you gasping. Luis keeps up the pace with gusto, nearly pulling all the way out and slamming back into you. The pressure he was piling inside you with every thrust has you screaming to the point that you can feel your voice growing hoarse. Meanwhile, you can hear him moaning his praises for you in his birth tongue. This man wasn’t just talking himself a big game. He knows what he’s doing, fueling his pleasure by ensuring your own. And he was making certain that you chased yours fast.

He pulls out and you involuntarily whimper at the loss of contact. You weren’t left alone for long as he lifts you to lay on your side on the table, your hands forced to rise above your head at this new position. Luis grabs a hold of one of your legs and bends it at the knee over his shoulder, entering your heat once more. Your blood boils fiercely at this new angle, you can see him and everything he was doing to you. And he can see you’re practically rendered speechless with every powerful thrust. At this rate, you weren’t going to last. The fluttering inside your core now popping like firecrackers.

Sweat pours down his handsome face, pupils dilated black with desire for you. “¿Cómo te llamas, ángel? Tell me. And I’ll give you what you want.”

He’s asking for your name again. The catalyst behind this whole affair. “Really bent on that, aren’t you?” you manage to pant out, your lungs barely keeping up with each strong snap of his hips.

“I wasn’t at first, only wanted to tease you.” He groans, his voice finding difficulty to stay level when he’s fucking into you without abandon. “But now- ah! I really want to know. I want to call out your name. ¡Joder! Let me call out your name, mi amor.”

The way he was begging tugged at you deep. Your name was on the edge of your tongue, but your heart was gripped with fear. Fear that if you so much as uttered what he’s asking of you, the spell would be broken and you’d be left unsatisfied. This felt too damn good to risk ruin with sentimentality. So you did what you have been doing best. Prevaricate. And make him want you more.

“Uncuff me. And I’ll tell you anything. Anything you want.”

You feel the vibrations of a laugh rumble deep from his chest.

“Eres tan… ¡Mierda!”

Like a cord finally snapping, the dam breaks and everything building inside spills out with a long, final cry of ecstasy. Stars dotted your vision, for a moment you forgot to breathe as you feel yourself unraveling. Within, you feel him cumming inside as well. Liquid hot ropes painting your insides, leaving you quivering uncontrollably. His hips slow to an eventual stop, his voice coming out in soft, satisfied sighs.

Slowly letting your leg down, Luis pulls himself out and hovers over you, hands flat beside your head. The man peppers your back and shoulders with soft nips and kisses. His stubble makes slow, sensual scratches along your skin as he reaches up to the flesh of your ear, biting onto the lobe affectionately. You turn your head to meet his lips with yours, noting how wonderful his kisses feel. He pulls away slightly to study you intently, varying emotions flashing over his eyes.

“Now,” he started, “about that name.”

Back at this again. You had to admire the man for his tenacity. “Told you already,” you huff once your breath returned to you, tugging at the chains around your wrist. “Remove these cuffs and I’ll think about it.”

His voice cracks in disbelief, “That was not what you said- ¿En serio? After all of that?”

“You’re more than welcome to keep working for it.” The words left your lips before you can stop them and an amused groan escapes from Luis’ own, sending another sinful heat to flow down your core.

“Eres muy mala.” He sighs with a shake of his head. There was no hint of annoyance in his husky tone, a devilish smirk plastered on his face. “Hanging with you- not healthy.”

“Right back at ya.” The remark earned a swift smack on your ass. You almost yelp out of reflex and shifted your eyes to glare at him.

The way he looked at you, however, tells you that he wasn’t against the idea of going again. And truthfully, you were all for it. Luis leans over to capture your lips once more, sweet and filled with promise, while his hand began to wander your body mischievously. The familiar tingle of heat starts to boil inside-

The alarming sound of inhuman groans down the hall jolts you two from your intimate high. Spell broken and you fully take in your nakedness in this increasingly dire situation.

“Get these chains off, Luis!”

“¡Sí, sí! Right away!”

1K notes · View notes

valiantroeagleangel · 2 months

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Varney.

Vampire! Noah Sebastian x female reader.

Varney! Noah, mention of blood, kind of dub-con but not really but a bit I think because of compulsion, oral, unprotected sex, mention of death.

I often have thoughts with Vampire! type of shit and I think I got a bit carried away gathering some of them here. Maybe I need to warn that this is inspired by the book "Varney the Vampire: The Feast of Blood." It's gothic horror I think, nothing too graphic is going on here though. But just- don't want you to be fooled, this is based on gothic gross vampires not that sparkling Edward bitch. I know nobody reads that part every time but you can't say you haven't been warned.

5.3k words if you ask.

Mama’s tag list: @philomenie @gipsonnikki @circle-with-me @somewhere-diamond @malice-ov-mercy @smokeynaomi @darkhallcorner @loeytuan98 @sthnog @cookiesupplier @cncohshit @lma1986 @skulliecadaver-blog @talialovesmiw @to-be-written @4rtificialfolio @arkiliastuff

"Varney enjoys all the pleasures at once and when he manages to desecrate the bed of a pretty young woman while bleeding her white in a horrible sucking sound. He is a fearsome and scary creature that usually wakes up the members of the fair sex by scratching at the window of their room."

She knew he was here. She could feel him, hear him. She could hear the same four notes he was humming, letting the melody indicate his presence to those around. She looked through the window, trying to discern the shape outside, the condensation on the glass concealing his figure. But she knew he was here, god she knew and she couldn't look away. She didn't dare to move, she didn't want him to know she knew. He did though. Of course, he did. He just didn't say anything, he couldn't scare his prey. She was so innocent in her white nightgown, creeping at the window from her bed, fearing to be harmed in the middle of the night.

So he continued to sing his chords, the notes living rent-free in her mind for years now.

D♭, G♭, E♭ₘ and A♭ₘ.

It was like an obsessive thought, it intruded her mind, and it ate her brain. All she could do was hum along every time she heard them.

She knew he was here, she always did. And even if she abhorred it to hell, all she could do was to be haunted by these notes. They were so mesmerizing, like she was compelled to appreciate them, finding comfort in them even though they seemed terrifying.

D♭, G♭, E♭ₘ and A♭ₘ.

She murmured them like a mantra, like it would save her from damnation. As if they were going to keep him away from her when he was the one living by their harmony.

D♭, G♭, E♭ₘ and A♭ₘ.

It wasn't that hard. Actually, if she tried, she was sure she could play them on the piano.

D♭, G♭, E♭ₘ and A♭ₘ.

She was just a child then, not so long ago, when she first heard these four notes. That day he left a letter. "I'll come for you, my yuri." Yuri was not her name and by then she had no fucking clue of what he meant. She still doesn't. With time, the years went by and he started to reach for her again. It was first once a month, then once every two weeks, to finally once a week. The more she grew the more he seemed to visit. He was frightening her. He looked so tall, so massive and impressive. She only saw his face once, disguised in the darkness of her room. It was the only time he approached her that close and despite the terror she felt that night all she could remember was his long nose and the way his hair framed his face.

But while he continued his visits, he never tried anything to harm her to her surprise. She knew what he was, she often heard the elder talk about these creatures that come for you at night. But she liked to think he was some kind of protector. Oh, only if she knew. His intentions were everything but caring and kind. He wanted her. From the moment he saw her as a child, he wanted her, he wanted her blood. She smelled like no other.

His first thought was to get rid of her as a child, get a good meal from her and leave her for dead in the snow in front of her house. But even for him, killing that innocent child was too much. So he waited, promising himself a good feast for the years to come. He just had to watch for her, to be sure that no one would try to harm his prey. They called him Varney, Varney the vampire, attacking only those who were pure enough to be maidens. But as the years passed he never acted. He could have assailed her a thousand times now. She was not a child anymore and she lived so carefree- that girl was completely unconscious. He needed to act and to act soon before she would do something that would ruin her forever.

But he did nothing, he watched her for years, he observed how she evolved, how she went from that sweet smiling child to the woman she was today. And god, he was happy he waited because nothing ever smelled as divine as her. She smelled like strong lilies, yuri.

Yuri was the Japanese appellation for lilies. He didn't know her name, even after all these years he didn't look into it. He didn't need to know his prey, all he needed to was watch over her. Watch how happily she danced during the spring balls, how sad she cried during the dead season at the end of the autumn, how charming she was for the Christmas time, and how fragile she looked alone in her bed at night. That poor nightgown wasn't doing her any favour, he swore that if he squinted just a bit more he could see everything. That clothing was so see-through that she might be freezing to death during those stormy nights.

One day he dropped her a cloth, some kind of duvet for her body to heat. It was the only time he actually entered her room, hoping for her to be dead asleep. Unfortunately, she was not, and she saw his face. He knew she did, he only hoped for her to not remember, to think that it was some kind of dream. Only that she wasn't dumb, she knew he was lurking for her all these years and she knew he was here that night, next to her bed. At first, she thought she was good to die, the time had come. A stranger in her room watched her sleep like a psychopath, but he only dropped that duvet, and she knew it was him. He hummed for her and her body relaxed immediately. He had tamed her, had domesticated her. She wasn't even worried about him intruding on her space like that.

He knew he did a great job then, even if she saw what she was supposed to never see, his face.

D♭, G♭, E♭ₘ and A♭ₘ.

Winter balls have never been her thing. She much preferred the ones that were held in the spring or the summer. The celebrations were different, more festive. During the winter the balls were cold, held in big mansions from the ones who were welcoming all the people. Often they were masquerade parties, and she hated that too. She didn't like wearing that mask all night, it was itching and making her face sweat like a pig. Gosh, she hated them, and that corset dress too. It was so tight she could barely breathe. Spring balls were allowing more liberties, no masks, no dresses, nothing but dancing.

Nonetheless, she still walked through that hall, finally entering that marble castle and she couldn't help but appreciate the heat that welcomed her. Greeted by some kind of butler she walked through the corridors, reaching the room of the festivities.

She stared at the impressive chandelier, overwhelmed by all the luxury that surrounded her. She didn't have any idea whose house it was this time. Winter balls were held by the nobles of the land, one by one, it's all she needed to know, at least that's what she lived by.

And just like that the night went, she danced around with some people, chatted with others, it was all pleasant until she couldn't take it anymore. Politely she escaped the small group she was with, reaching for a balcony of some kind as she hoped for some air. That corset was for sure killing her. She laughed to herself, the idea of being killed by her awful garments making her smile a little.

"Oh no the poor lady suffocated in that way too tight dress, who's idea it was? We should strip her naked to see!" She mimicked some kind of rude man by herself, laughing even more at her antics. Maybe she was drunk, maybe it was the heat obstructing her brain, but she found that pleasant enough.

D♭, G♭, E♭ₘ and A♭ₘ.

Until he called for her. She first thought her brain was playing her tricks, but he called again.

D♭, G♭, E♭ₘ and A♭ₘ.

She looked up, then down, looking for that well-known figure, only to notice him hidden among the roses of the garden below. She moved as fast as she could, hoping to actually be able to catch him tonight. She had so many things to ask, but she wasn't afraid, curiosity was gnawing at her.

D♭, G♭, E♭ₘ and A♭ₘ.

He sang the chord again and she let his voice guide her through the labyrinth of flowers and small trees she was losing herself in.

D♭, G♭, E♭ₘ and A♭ₘ.

"Come for me, my yuri."

He talked to her and for the first time, she felt like she heard his voice, like he was real, like all of this was concrete.

D♭, G♭, E♭ₘ and A♭ₘ.

She couldn't see him yet, but the more she walked the more the melody became persistent.

"Yuri."

He guided her with his voice, keeping it sultry, as soft as his sweet words. Once again transported by his melodies, all she could do was search for him, she was completely frenetic, obsessed. She needed him, she needed more. She wondered why every time she heard him sing she couldn't feel fear anymore. As if he was some kind of saviour, an angel from heaven.

And then she saw him, standing in front of the fountain, hidden by thousands of thorns and roses. She recognized that tall frame and that nose. It's all she could remember him by, the long nose, so straight, so pretty, making him look so elegant.

She was in awe, her eyes staring straight into his, her lips agape. She didn't even dare to swallow, worried he might disappear at any second as if he was supernatural. He wasn't real, he wasn't human, she swore he was not. But he was clearly not an angel either. His aura was so dark and she remembered why she feared him at first.

His eyes pierced through her skin and she suddenly felt naked, as if she was not the one only wearing nightgowns in front of him every night for the past ten years. It was so different from what he used her to, he actually looked terrifying, as she remembered him from when she was a kid. He felt the change in her mood, felt how frightened she became in an instant. And without her even realizing he was by her side, in a flash, he towered over her against that thorny bush.

"It's okay my yuri, don't be afraid." He tried to soothe her, to coax her, but it didn't work that time. As if his voice had lost all of his fascinating power.

She tried to step back, only to puncture the naked skin of her arms with another thorn, a single drop of blood forming at her wound. It cascaded through her arm until it reached her hand. She felt it rolling down but her eyes were drowning in his. She couldn't look away, it didn't matter how frightened she actually was, her gaze couldn't leave his.

He licked his lower lips, the glow in his eyes darkening, and she didn't miss any of that. He swallowed hard, his eyes alternating between hers and her lips. He licked his once again, until he couldn't bear it one more minute. Carefully, he approached his face to hers, brushing his lips on hers.

"You’re bleeding Yuri." he whispered and she swallowed hard, her voice stuck in her throat. "Be careful, we wouldn't want to hurt that delicate flower."

Was he talking about her or about the roses behind her? She had no idea but she still blushed and he stepped back, leaving her some personal space again while she realized she actually had stopped breathing for several seconds now. He held his hand to her as he went sitting on the edge of the fountain.

She followed obediently, actually taking his hand in her as he pulled her toward him, startled by how hot she was compared to him. He made her stand between his spread legs, turning her so he could face her back. His eyes fell on the blood spreading on her arm, strings of red tarnishing the purity of her skin. Hypnotized by it he let his fingers travel from her hand to her forearms and the upper arms, brushing gently her skin in his path, ever so slowly, as delicate as he saw her. The scent of it was becoming intoxicating and he wished he could smell more, touch more, feel the thickness of the blood between his fingers, he wanted to taste her so badly. She smelled like lilies but would she taste like lilies too?

"Yuri." It escaped him, a murmur that he couldn't refrain from, it's all he was thinking about. Lily, Yuri. He didn't move, he didn't even try to act like nothing happened, he just fixated on the blood imprinting her skin. He hadn't smelled it in years but it smelled as divine as the first time he saw her. It was even more sacred than that day.

"What does Yuri mean?" She asked, clueless, as she stared at the bush where she actually hurt herself. Her voice startled him, he wasn't used to hearing her. He found that sweet, so sweet. She was all her blood was, he was sure of that and he wondered, for a second, if he wasn't just infatuated with her.

"Lily." He answered calmly, but if his heart was still actually beating he swore he would be breaking.

"Lily as the flower?" He only hummed at her as a form of answer. His thumb brushed the wound and she didn't react. He wished she would have hissed or whined, but she didn't, she only stayed still, staring at the bush. "Why?"

The more his thumb caressed her the more she relaxed into his touch, as if she wasn't terrified minutes before.

"Because-" He stopped, thinking of what he was about to say actually. "Just because. You don't need to know."

When he finally took his finger away, he brought it to his lips, allowing himself to taste, just for a bit, just a tidbit as his tongue licked it more than he should have.

The taste lingered in his mouth and thinking suddenly became hard, way too hard for the simple man he used to be. Worried by the absence of sounds he was making she turned back, facing him.

He looked at her from under, curled up on himself as he revelled himself in the flavour of her blood. Eyes dark and bloodshot, canines peeking through, long nails finishing his hands. When she realized what he was actually doing her eyes widened. His lips were stained with the liquid. For an unknown reason, she found him absolutely gorgeous. He looked so needy, it actually surprised her. How could the strong figure ensuring her at night look so weak under her like that?

Caught red-handed, he tried to compose himself to not lose the imposing presence he tried so hard to give himself these past few years. But the blood still on his lips, he couldn't behave decently. He felt so stupid, like a horny teenager, all he wanted was her.

Completely incautiously, she approached her fingers, wiping his lips and her blood away. When her fingers left his mouth he chased her, chased the heat of that alive body and the taste that was coming along, the taste he was losing. She could have touched his canine in that moment, she could have injured herself badly by unleashing that part of him. She hadn't noticed them but they were menacing to pierce through her weak skin and suck the life out of her. It's all he had been dreaming of all these years, he was so close to his goal, if only he dared to catch her.

But in the silence of the night a couple came to disturb their peace, distracting her attention away from him for a couple of seconds, acknowledging the two persons stepping into the garden. And when she eventually looked back at him he had disappeared, like he vanished into the night.

She cursed, startled by how quickly he was to leave. She knew he was able to do that, she was just not expecting him to do it tonight. She was so close, terrified but yet drowned to him, and now he faded without even telling her his name. She sighed, desperate as she sat on the edge of the fountain, trying to process what just had happened.

On his side, he cussed everybody who dared to put themself between himself and her. He was so close finally, if only he got a few more minutes he could have ravished her right here right now. How stupid he was to have hesitated even one second, he was getting weak and it was something that he couldn’t allow.

Following that event, the nights passed and looked all the same, dull, cold, and annoying. He didn't come for a total of nine nights, she counted them all. Nine nights were she was, in fact for the first time since her childhood, free from his gaze. She could have left, she could have brought someone home, she could have done all the things she doesn't dare to do when she knows he's lurking at her, but she did nothing.

On that ninth night though, she knew he was here. Despite the absence of melody, she could feel him, she could tell how disguised he was in the shadow, like he was actually for once ashamed of what he was doing. Because all he was, in fact, was a creep, lurking at a woman's window every night. And when it finally hit her all she could do was clench her legs. He was here for her, he was watching her every night, in that white nightgown, that little dress, revealing her naked body underneath, and he was here, and he was watching her.

Her legs clenched once again and she rolled into her bed, trying to chase her thoughts away but she was still feeling his presence. It was burning her, every ounce of the sheets her body was touching tingled. She rolled over and over, the image of that needy man, sucking on her blood, his fingers in his mouth like he was starving. She clenched her legs. Again. She was so petite under him, against the bush, her body hitting the thorns. Again. Was it the blood? Would he come for her if she was bleeding again? Again.

She wanted him to come for her, she wanted to ask him his name and feel his cold fingers on his arms once again.

D♭, G♭, E♭ₘ and A♭ₘ.

She called for him, naturally, like he called for her but he didn't answer, he stayed in his darkness, unsure of what to do. Did she want him to devour her all? Did she know what he had planned to do?

D♭, G♭, E♭ₘ and A♭ₘ.

She called again, tempting him, playing with the little nerves he had.

D♭, G♭, E♭ₘ and A♭ₘ.

Like a plea, she called him, she called for his furtive touch, his calloused fingers, she called for him to get out of the darkness. And when he finally dared to step out of the corner, she realized that he wasn't outside like she thought he was. He was in her room. Like he did the first time he saw her wearing that ridiculous nightgown. Her eyes widened at her -expected- unexpected visitor.

He approached her bed as she straightened herself, switching positions to sit on her feet, revealing herself. His hands approached her face, his fingers caressing the top of her cheek and she shivered, the contact surprising her, his coldness contrasting with her hot body.

"Shh, it's too late to be afraid, Yuri." As always, his voice relaxed her and she leaned into his touch, her face chasing his hand until he cupped his whole cheek, his fingers reaching from behind her ears. His thumb stroked her face and she sighed, closing her eyes, like it was her missing piece. She didn't understand why but she felt herself ignite. She was burning and the more he gently caressed her face the more she was catching on fire.

In a movement, as furtive as always, he sat on the bed, the mattress not making a single sound as it was used to. When she finally opened her eyes back, she met his gaze and it all suddenly became hard to breathe. She wanted to call him, to whisper his name but she had no idea of who he was, so she only murmured a quiet "please." that looked more like a whine than anything else, it was a supplication. She didn't know what she was pleading for but she did, she needed to get freed from this, whatever it was, and she knew he was the one who was going to help her. It felt like evidence, he was the one who was going to free her from that painful agony.

"Please what? Tell me, my sweet lily." He asked, his free hand cupping her other cheek and she closed her eyes again, expecting a kiss that never came. Why would he have kissed her? She didn't know, but she knew he was about to, she saw it, she felt it, she-

"Kiss me." She asked for it, the words escaping her without her consent, like he compelled her to do so. "Please kiss me-"

She wanted to call his name again but was dismissed that right, her lack of knowledge of his person showing. It scared her once again, how ready she was to give herself to that man she barely knew, how she let him watch her all these years, it wasn't herself, she was scared of him but why did it feel so good at that very moment?

But thoughts became long forgotten when she felt his lips on her, chastely moving in rhythm, like another chord. It's all she needed to lose it, she didn't think anymore, a violent moan leaving her when he pressed himself even more on her. Their two bodies flopped on the bed, her back hitting the mattress as he quickly settled himself on top of her without ever breaking the kiss. He could have done whatever he wanted with her, she was putty in his hand at that very moment, she belonged to him the second he put his hands on her nine nights ago.

He kissed her as if his life depended on it, as if he wasn't already half-dead, he was drowning in her scent. The more he kissed her the more she whined into his arms, her scent becoming stronger and stronger. He was drunk on her, he could feel her blood rushing through her whole body, he could hear how fast her heart was beating, how hot and aroused she was just from his kisses. When he finally broke apart for real, letting her gasp for air, he analyzed her, the needy look she was giving him, as if she needed this as much as he did, as she didn't need to live, what was her life in comparison to man's touch?

She wanted to ask for his name again, and finally, as if he read her mind, he breathed out, his mouth drawn to her neck.

"Noah." His mouth attached itself, almost automatically to her skin and he dared, just so little, press his teeth against her carotid, enough to just feel the blood pump under his touch.

She tilted her head back at the contact, sighing. "Noah." She repeated and he nodded, smiling in the crook of her neck as he travelled on her body. She was smelling so good, he was going crazy, the more he approached her heart the more excited he was. His lips landed on her clavicle, her cleavage and when he finally dared reach that devil gown, who taunted him so many times, he ripped it, freeing her chest from the fabric. He almost moaned at the sight of her bare body, like it was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen in his entire life, and it was. She was almost glowing in his eyes, like she was coming straight from heaven and he wondered how it was possible for a creature of the devil like him to be able to reach for the gods through her.

"Noah." She called again, cautiously, like these words would hurt her if she said them too fast or too loud.

He hummed against her, his head already diving into her chest, his lips attached to her left breast he sucked on it, feeling her heart pump under him, feeling the blood coming to his mouth as he sucked a bit more vividly. Until he sucked enough for his teeth to pierce through her skin, her blood escaping her without her being able to contest or fight. All she could feel was the euphoria that his touch was giving her.

The taste of her was like a relief, it was the best thing he ever put in his mouth, after centuries of existence. It was the sweetest of the nectars. When he was still human he recalled once drinking a wine called "The Wine of the Gods." The best one ever created. But he swore it was nothing compared to her. Nothing could compete with that delicate sweetness, she tasted like she smelled and he couldn't stop. He wondered if her pussy tasted the same, his intrusive thoughts battling against him and his will to feed. He couldn't get his teeth out of her breast but god- her pussy, scented as divine as her blood and he wanted to taste her so bad.

He opened his eyes back but it was too late, she was already too far away from her pleasure, drowning in all the sensations she was feeling. When he finally collected enough will he left her chest, not without regrets, to pamper her with kisses, travelling through her stomach to reach her bare pussy. She didn't bother herself with underwear at night and he couldn't be more glad for that.

He kissed her pelvis, his mouth not leaving her skin for more than a few seconds. And when he finally dared to settle between her legs, when she automatically spread them for him, all he wanted to do was thrust violently into her and bite her neck until she would cry from the pain. But he did nothing of that, he gently bit her inner thigh, delecting himself with the so little blood he took.

Finally deciding to put his hands to good use, he grabbed her by the hips, his fingers sinking in their fat as he pushed her to his face. She squirmed under him, her hands reaching for his hair by instinct. All she wanted was to push him more and more on her, begging him to speed up his pace. She was dying for his touch, completely compelled and mesmerized by her predator, just like he wanted her.

But the predator liked to play too much. He only teased her, keeping his slow motions, nice and gentle, groaning when she would moan a little bit louder or push him a little bit too hard.

He was quick to get how her body worked and how she reacted in a certain way. Soon he had his two hands grabbing her legs to put them on his shoulders, his tongue pressed against her cunt with such fervour. His nose rubbed her clit, making her moan. Her hands immediately left his hair to cover her mouth, refraining from her sounds but he was quick to move, leaving his spot between her legs to reach her face, grabbing her hands to move them away from her mouth.

"Let me hear you Yuri, let me hear the holy sounds you make." Quickly, he regained his place back, his tongue pushing itself on her folds as she moaned again.

He was cold, all of his being was freezing but it was enough to make her burn under his touch. She desired him in a way that she never desired anybody, and yet she felt so away that she wasn't sure it was her who was feeling all these emotions. Her heart was ready to explode as she pushed his head deeper against her core. She moaned and he answered back, groaning vividly between her legs.

The closer she grew to her orgasm the sweeter she tasted, it was intoxicating, it was all too much. Until she came, rocking her hips on his face, quivering between his hands and crying his name for her own sake, to remember something tangible, like all of this was real. Because she felt completely out of her body, her conscience tore apart from herself.

Nonetheless, he kept eating her, he couldn't get enough of her scent, of her taste. If he wasn't a starved man before he definitely was one now. He only pulled apart when he heard her cry his name out, completely overstimulated. And when he finally dared to look at her he understood how fucked he was. Because there was no way he was turning back now, there was no way he was letting her run free into the wild again. He just needed her body over his, he needed to be inside of her for real, to feel her alive around him. At that very moment, he didn't care about anything else, he needed to feel how warm she was, how alive she was compared to him. And when he finally achieved that feeling, when he finally thrusted into her without a care in the world he almost immediately came from the sensation. Nothing ever made him feel alive like that, even not when he was actually alive.

She cried for him but at this point, every sound she made was long forgotten, he was already gone. He heard her heart beating, like a psychotic melody. It was maddening, the more he thrusted the more he heard it.

D♭, G♭, E♭ₘ and A♭ₘ.

She kept crying of pleasure, reaching for his embrace and when he finally held her between his arms she was ready to give up on her life. It was feeling all too good to be true, it wasn't her, she knew it, he was only chasing his own pleasure yet she was reaching her climax so quickly. Something wasn't right but it was too late to notice. Her arms around his back she held him closer, tightening her grasp on him to comfort herself.

She was doomed. She knew it, it was the end. She cried out, from the pain this time as she acknowledged her situation. He held her closer, feasting on her supplications, one of his hands reaching for her face, his thumb brushing away some tears."Shhh, it's okay Yuri. It's too late now." and before she could come he bit violently into her neck, the pain awakening immediately. It was violent, brutal, nothing like before. She felt her life escape her without being able to do anything while he continued to fete on her, unable to stop drinking from her, years of starvation just for that instant. But for him, it was all worth it, nothing had ever been as worth it as it was. It was delicious, excruciating all of his senses. He never felt so great in so many years. He loved those who were pure enough to be maidens, they really were a gift from the gods, descended straight from heaven and he was bringing her back to where she belonged. Away from the monstrosities of the earth. Away from himself who belonged to hell. Varney.

The chords used are from Masquerade by Versailles.

#noah sebastian #bad omens #bad omens cult #fanfiction #fanfic #fic #vampire! noah #smut #Spotify #valiant's vampire series

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the-ferocious-kittyrose · 4 months

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Hazbin Hotel Ep1 Rewrite

Okay, let’s get the shit I like first out of the way. Animation? Beautiful. Art style? Iconic. Music? Pops off.

Okay, now the fun part…

First let me just say, I adore biblical lore. So when I see something changed from the og lore, where I think the og was more interesting, I cannot let it go.

(I’m gonna focus on the Charlie storyline in the episode)

1. The Backstory

Let’s start with the first scene, the backstory of Lucifer and Lilith. In the show, they got some of the timeline and motivations wrong. I understand that the story is sugar coated, but hear me out.

“Once upon a time, there was a dazzling kingdom protected by golden gates, known as Heaven. Home to beings of pure light. Angels that worshiped good and lived in peace and harmony under the rule of God. The most beautiful of the Angels was Lucifer. He was a dreamer, with fantastical ideas for all creation. But he was restricted by God and the elders of Heaven, for they felt his way of thinking was dangerous to the order of their world.

Outraged by this injustice, Lucifer gathered an army of Angels, and declared war on the kingdom of Heaven. The battle raged on for centuries, but in the end, Heaven reigned victorious. As punishment for their betrayal, Lucifer and his army were cast out of Heaven. Banished to a crumbling wasteland, where the light of God could not reach. But Lucifer would not wallow in failure. From the barren landscape he rose a beautiful golden palace, crowned himself king and crafted a plan to share his freedom with God’s newest creation. Humanity.”

(I like to imagine that when Lucifer and his army fell, their wings burned up, leaving scattered feathers everywhere. In order to fly to Eden, Lucifer gathered these burned feathers and turned them into a new pair of wings for himself. They were black, messy, and trailed billowing smoke, but they could fly.)

Now for the Lilith part of the story. The more popular interpretation of her is that she is the first wife of Adam, but there is another version too, one where she is Adam’s second Wife after Eve. I personally prefer the latter because I can’t see anyone sinning or getting cast out of Edan before Eve eats the apple.

“He approached the garden of Edan in disguise, and offered the forbidden fruit of knowledge to the mother of humanity, Eve, who gladly accepted. But with the gift of knowledge and freedom, came a terrible curse. Evil bleed into the earth, and humanity was infected by darkness and sin.

For her disobedience Eve was cast out of Edan, to the dismay of her love, Adam. To appease him, the Angels crafted him a new bride, Lilith. Lilith was beautiful, with a voice so enchanting even Lucifer was mesmerized, but she was strong willed and refused to be subservient to her new husband. She fled from the garden, and rather than chase her, Adam found the tree of knowledge and bit into the forbidden fruit, so he could follow his true love, and be with her once more.

Lilith wandered, lost and alone, until she was found by Lucifer. Enamored by her beauty and iron will, he gave her his heart and made her his queen.”

Then you have the bit about Lucifer becoming depressed while Lilith thrived in Hell. I hate this! I was looking forward to a demonic Mortica and Gomez, not another Stolas and Stella. Plus, I’ve never been a fan of uwu sad misunderstood Lucifer. He is a complex character, but too often he’s over simplified by people who read Paradise Lost in high school and misinterpreted Lucifer as a tragic anti hero who was treated unfairly by the evil Angels. Lucifer can be tragic, even sympathetic. He can be fun and a caring father. But don’t forget that he is king of Hell. He is the prince of pride. He has an ego the size of east Texas and waged war against God himself.

And let’s not forget that in the show he is the head honcho over a strict cast system that encourages violence, allows the worst of the worst to take power, and leaves the hellborn races at the bottom at a severe disadvantage.

In this rewrite, Lucifer and Lilith essentially switch places, except Lilith isn’t a pathetic push over, she’s an incredibly famous rockstar, who’s always busy and not around often, but still has a bigger role in her daughter’s life than her husband, who’s been mia doing king shit.

And the last thing we hear about in the intro monologue is that the exterminations happens to prevent Hell from rising against them, which while that may be the case, don’t have Charlie say it!!! That realization for her would make the entire hotel superfluous! Charlie has to think that the problem truly is overpopulation.

2. Meeting with Adam

Let’s start with Adam himself. I hate this character. Especially as an adaptation of Adam. Yes, Adam is misogynistic. He expected Lilith to be subservient to him, but he wouldn’t be the frat boy type of misogynist, he’d be the old school chivalrous type. Grandpa style sexism. And shouldn’t the father of humanity care about his descendants? It doesn’t make any sense for him to be an executioner. He should be the leader of the guardian Angels or something.

In this rewrite, Adam is not the leader of the executioners, instead it’s the Angel Dumah. Dumah is the angel over the wicked dead, and he was appointed by God to torment sinners in Hell.

I want him to be an actual intimidating antagonist. He rarely speaks (his name means “silence”) and has many eyes (is described as having a thousand eyes)

As for the exorcists, they are Angels, but not actual dead humans wearing mask. They just look like that. Dumah is described as having tens of thousands of Angels of Destruction at his disposal. That’s what the exorcists are going to be, but instead of thousands, I’ll give him five. They don’t speak and are hardly sentient. They stand on top of the tower like gargoyles, until they “come to life” for the execution.

“But it’s a comedy! Shouldn’t they be funny?” No. It’s all about how characters react to them. The Litch in Adventure Time is a good example of this.

So obviously the meeting goes a lot differently.

Charlie gets a call, looks at the number, and excitedly tells everyone to, “shooooosh!” She takes the call nervously, saying, “yeah! Okay! Yes! Of course! I’ll be right there! Thank you SOOO much!!!” She hangs up and happily tells Vaggie that Dumah requested a meeting with her. Vaggie is nervous and says she should probably go with her, but Charlie says that she’ll be fine and tells her to stay and work on the commercial. She leaves excited that the Angels may finally be taking her seriously.

She makes it to the clock tower’s board room, where Dumah sits silently at the end of the table. Charlie nervously starts to greet him before she realizes they’re not alone. The Angels, Gabriel and Uriel have come from Heaven, for a meeting with Hell’s princess.

Uriel remains professional, politely bowing her head as she greeted Charlie. Gabriel on the other hand, threw his arms out, happily yelling, “Charlotte!!!” He wrapped her in an uncomfortably tight and awkward hug, saying how much she’s grown since he last saw her. He’s like a chill but estranged uncle meeting his now adult niece who he hasn’t seen since she was a baby and has no memory of him whatsoever.

Uriel watches the whole thing in embarrassment. She tells Charlie that Dumah had contacted them, regarding some, “interesting,” ideas about the extermination.

Charlie starts with her pitch, but Gabriel insists that they should take some time to catch up first. He claps his hands and summons plates of food for everyone. When we cut back to them, Gabriel is in the middle of telling the story about almost getting his ass kicked by Joseph when he told him his virgin wife was pregnant.

Uriel cuts him off, saying she doesn’t need to hear this story for the eighth millionth time. She turns to Charlie, exasperated, and tells her to get on with the pitch.

Charlie says that she has a potential solution for the over population problem in Hell. Uriel, Gabriel, and Dumah look at her blankly. Gabriel asks, “overpopulation?”

Charlie goes on to explain that she knows overpopulation is a big problem, but 275 sinners were executed this year alone and she just can’t stand to watch her people be slaughtered anymore.

Uriel asks if she’s suggesting an alternative, and Charlie very excitedly pitches her idea for the hotel. Uriel and Gabriel wear a matching “wtf” face and look back and forth at eachother like, “does this girl know what she’s suggesting?”

As Charlie is finishing, Uriel is visibly annoyed. She interrupts Charlie, complaining that this is ridiculous and has all been a massive waste of time as she stands up to leave. Charlie tries to stop her, saying, “please, you don’t understand.”

Uriel snaps back, “no, you don’t understand! They had their chance in life and they earned damnation.”

Charlie responds, “you're wrong. Sinners made mistakes, sure, but everyone makes mistakes.”

Uriel pinches the bridge of her nose (or where a nose would be on a person) “a mistake happens once. It’s an accident, an error in judgment due to naivety. Of course mistakes can be forgiven, but we’re not talking about mistakes, are we? These sinners had a choice, and they chose to live in sin.”

“A choice they now regret!” Charlie defends.

“It takes a lot more than regret to be forgiven.” Uriel says coldly. “It takes remorse.”

Gabriel chimes in, “she has a point, Charlie. It’s easy to make someone regret their actions, but to have them feel true selfless remorse, that is much more difficult.”

Charlie furrows her brow and starts to look defeated.

“But perhaps not impossible.”

Charlie beams with excitement. Gabriel explains that this is a big decision, too big to be made right now, but if she can successfully redeem one demon, they will allow her to come to heaven and pitch her idea to the entire Angelic court. Uriel tries to argue, but Gabriel just says they’ll discuss it later. Charlie gives him a tight hug before he and Uriel disappear.

As she turns to leave, Dumah puts his hand on her shoulder. This is the first time he’s moved in the entire scene. He stares at her coldly and says, “the only reason you’re here is your father has spared you from the executioner’s blade. If I had my way. Each and every one of you would be slaughtered.”

Charlie stares up at him. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

For context, part of the reason Gabriel and Uriel were initially confused by Charlie’s proposal is because they know that Lucifer is trying to keep Hell’s population as high as possible, in preparation for the second war with heaven. That’s why he and the other princes of hell work to manipulate humanity and temp them towards sin (i.e. succubi and incubi). That’s why he arranges marriages between powerful demons to make powerful demon children (i.e. Stolas and Stella). He needs as many demons possible for his army if he’s gonna have a chance at winning. So obviously, sending sinners to heaven, aka the opposing force, is the LAST thing Lucifer would want.

#Hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel critical #hazbin hotel rewrite #charlie morningstar #adam hazbin hotel #hazbin lucifer #hazbin lilith #lucifer morningstar #lilith hazbin hotel #vaggie hazbin hotel

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charmercharm3r · 11 months

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Masterlist

warning: smut

thinking about hyunjin walking in on you and your not-so-trusty toy…

feeling like you’d had the bullet vibrator pressed to your clit for ages, hand numb, body sweaty, and you just could not find the right angle. the previously recorded videos of you and your boyfriend playing in the background of your headphones and his moans sounding oh, so pretty. but it just wasn’t cutting it for you right now. you need him otherwise you’ll be here for god knows how much longer.

your prayers were answered, though. hyunjin bursting through your bedroom door was a blessing and a curse in disguise. little did you know your needed relief was going to turn into an all night activity when he found you naked in bed.

immediately falling to his knees in front of you and taking the toy from your hand, hyunjin turns off your phone and takes the headphones away to replace the needed sensuality with his own voice. you never realize how much you depended on him for something as simple as making yourself cum.

“my poor baby, how long have you been here? you must be so exhausted.” whether he meant to be so teasing, you didn’t care. you only mewled out for him and reached out to feel his skin on yours.

hyunjin cooed as you gripped onto his forearm and threw your legs over his shoulders. staring at your sopping, puffy cunt, he was mesmerized. such a pretty sight deserved to be treated just as equally kind.

“don’t worry anymore, bunny. i’ll take care of you. you don’t lift a finger. how many times do you wanna cum, hm? i’ll make it happen.”

his presence alone was getting you further than you’d been able to get yourself this entire time. the added comfort of his free hand massaging your thigh and his lips pressing mindless kisses to your belly felt unreal. you held his hand with the toy steady against you, writhing and moaning in his grasp with a fuzzy mind. “oh, you can’t even speak. you’re so precious. i know, i know— you need me all the time. do i make you that insatiable, bunny? just need to have me here all day, every day, never a second apart. there we go, now. let go, baby. cum for me so i can make you cum again, and again, and again.

“my sweet bunny, i’m not going anywhere, you don’t have to cry. oh, but you’re so cute when you do. look at you! i haven’t even touched you yet! haven’t gotten to take off my clothes, you’re so desperate for me.

“i know i said to relax, but i kind of want to make you work just a little bit more. is that okay with you, sweetheart? i promise, it’ll be worth it. let me play with you and you’ll have everything you want. you’re the prettiest when you let me play. you’re always beautiful, but i really do love that frustrated ruffle in your brow when i don’t let you cum. doesn’t it make it feel even better the next time you do? just a few minutes bunny, then after, i’ll make sure you lose count of how many highs i give you, you’ll never wanna come down.”

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ecoamerica · 1 month

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youtube

Watch the 2024 American Climate Leadership Awards for High School Students now: https://youtu.be/5C-bb9PoRLc

The recording is now available on ecoAmerica's YouTube channel for viewers to be inspired by student climate leaders! Join Aishah-Nyeta Brown & Jerome Foster II and be inspired by student climate leaders as we recognize the High School Student finalists. Watch now to find out which student received the $25,000 grand prize and top recognition!

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feefymo · 4 months

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The Rorchach Effect - Part 1

Jimmy Darling x fem! reader - NSFW • MDNI word count: 2757 author's notes: it was like a multiple birth but here we are. This is my very first attempt of a fanfiction (and it's not written in my native language) but I worked a lot on it and I hope you enjoy it. I tried to keep It simple. After mulling it over I chose to divide the fic in two parts and yes: the smut is in the second part! It's not proofread because I'm a kamikaze, yes. Little curiosity: I was partly inspired by Saltburn and this soundtrack. What else? I'll leave you to read! Be kind, pleaseee! My hashtag is #ficfymo ! summary: Elsa threw a party for Jimmy's birthday but no one knows where he ended up. Fem! Reader POV. warnings: mention of violence, and blood. I think that's it, for now. https://open.spotify.com/intl-it/track/6Huqy9WdEE3rMazEQgajn2?si=2105621ac0044260

Good evening, ladies and gentlemen. Welcome.

I'm the one they call the Rorschach Woman; my real name is not important.

Do any of you know what vitiligo is? Vitiligo is a disease but in the maternal arms of Elsa Mars, nothing is bad. None of her adopted children are sick: we all have a gift, don't we, Elsa? I had a boundless love for ballet, I was busily studying psychiatry, I was a "prodigy girl" or, at least, I thought I was. Then, the vitiligo showed up. What I thought was my downfall, according to Elsa, represented the true miracle. I gave up dancing; I gave up on my dream of becoming a researcher. I lost the support of my real parents because my appearance had changed but hey! Now I have my own number in Elsa Mars Freak Show. I'm here to enchant you. To let you read the spots on my face. I'm here to interpret your minds. This is my personal test of Rorschach, offered to you, kind audience. A few dollars and you can study me, myself every night but not every night are like this. Tonight I want to tell you a story 'cause today is my best friend's birthday. The brother I've chosen. Tonight, a big party was thrown for him but there's no trace of him. Where did you go, Jimmy Darling?

Let's take a step back.

I've never seen the camp so packed. Never. If all these people showed up for every show, each of us would be filthy rich. I don't understand how it is possible and yet, Elsa must have performed one of her magics. She says she consider Jimmy her blood, so she claimed to organize everything herself. She chose a party theme: "Normal People". She call it "satire", a mockery towards those who are truly considered normal. Some of us believed her, others adapted to avoid getting into trouble. The truth is that, by disguising ourselves according to the canons, we appear even less credible. Grotesque. Ridicolous. I couldn't resist a subtle provocation, so I made my complexion uniform but with the white of French mimes. Like a pierrot. Totally painted in white, I wander around in a champagne dress. I look like a crazy moth until I find the flame. That flame is Jimmy himself, surrounded by a myriad of strangers who urge him to blow out the candles.

- Happy birthday… uhm… -

- Happy birt… Joseph? -

- Jack? John? -

- I think it's Jimmy. -

- Jimmy? Are you sure? -

- JIMMY! -

The music does not cover the murmurs nor the embarrassment that comes down like a curtain. I try to push and elbow to reach my best friend but I can't. He's standing there, nerves to edge: he looks around, clenching his teeth. He seems lost while he's trying to put an unconvinced smile on his Peter Pan face. Once the candles have been blown out, Jimmy disappears in the general disinterest. Nobody cares, the party continues as if nothing had happened, fueling an atmosphere that has nothing normal about it. It's something like a mesmerizing nightmare in the suffused lights that Elsa had placed everywhere. A luminous design that even turns into a labyrinth in the wild meadow near the main event. It should be a modern fairy tale for the privileged who want to escape from the routine. For us, scum, it's an illusion. A utopia, a warning of what we will never achieve but I don't give a fucking damn. Sincerely. If I'm still here it's not because of Elsa nor because I truly appreciate her Cabinet Of Curiosities. I'm still here for my "acquired family" and for the boy who should be the protagonist of the evening which no one cares about.

Driven by the chaos, I search for familiar faces in the dim light until I come across Ethel; she shaved her chin. She is holding a plate with a slice of cake that she has prepared herself and she's standing in the dancing crowd, with a worried and resigned look. We both knows who the cake is for: Ethel has seen his son, maybe talked to him but she won't chase him. I prefer to not disturb her but I don't give up: retreating into a slit of darkness I collide with someone and jump perhaps exaggeratedly. Paul emerges from the darkness, rubbing his side with a grimace. He wears a hideous, gigantic suit to disguise his condition. It makes it look like a sad parallelepiped. Doctor Frankenstein's Creature.

-Paul, sorry! Did I hurt you?! -

-Nah, no biggies! What about you? You're nervous, what's happening? -

-Well, uh, I'm… have you seen Jimmy? I've been looking for him all night. -

- First I saw him with a brunette, she was dragging him towards El-'s tent… hey, that's the one over there! -

But the brunette is not in Jimmy's company: laughing rudely with her friends, she passes by me in a sweet-smelling cloud of glitters. She carries with her a kind of old oil lantern lit on a gesture that makes my blood run cold: cheeky, she twirls a battered glove on her head and, in one breath of Pink Lady, she's already too far away. Even though I would like to, I'm not going to confront her and complicate things because I prefer to follow her steps backwards. An alarm screams wildly inside me and I have to comply with it by launching myself out of the tent. The humidity of the night sticks to my skin, kneading the white paint that I thought was dry. I'm a mess inside and out but it doesn't matter at all.

- JIMMY! - I call, shout and run. I run, run, run like a fugitive. A voice whispers the worst to me and maybe I'm crazy but I can't help it. - JIMMY! - I keep repeating myself but he doesn't answer. The throat burns, the feet go by themselves, swaying dangerously on the heels. I didn't even realize I had ventured onto the lawn until I felt tickles on my ankles. Fräulain Elsa's illuminations invite me to follow their aura like drunken fireflies and I, disaffected, accept. I'm not afraid that Jimmy is dead but, worse, that he's gone. That he left me alone, leaving suddenly and without me. He promised me that if we ever succeeded, we would leave together and one suitcase would be enough to move to Europe. He always kept his promises, he…

I stop, crystallized in the heaviness of the evening. I hear noises scattered throughout the maze of light bulbs: they come from a specific point but they echo and bounce in the air. It sounds like the clumsy moan of an animal that it would be better not to get close to but I obstinately follow the source to the center of the maze. Once I reach my destination I jump somewhere between horror and relief, putting a hand to my mouth so as not to be discovered immediately. Sitting on the ground is Jimmy Darling. Hunched over, he turns his back to me and fiddles with something I don't understand. He is surrounded by objects, some of which I cannot distinguish. There are a few bottles including one of vermouth still sealed, half a lemon, a shirt reduced to a pile of wrinkles in Granada Green, the other glove specially sewn for the party. Some salt, perhaps? The worst aspect, the most dramatic touch, is a pinata hanging over his skull. A lobster-shaped pinata. As I try to figure out whether or not I'm awake, a low, deep growl forces its way into Jimmy's lungs, flaying them with increasing violence. The growl is quickly turning into the pained cry of an already wounded beast. I won't respect his privacy any longer, so I walk over to him and kneel before him.

- JIMMY! JIM, STOP IT! STOP, DAMMIT! - Jimmy was on the verge of cutting off his left hand with a rusty knife but my arrival ruined his plans. He doesn't recognize me right away and his immediate reaction is to turn against me. He is much, much stronger than me but, even if he vehemently chases me away, I attack again in what turns into a blind scuffle. The moment Jim realizes it's really me, he drops his guard groggily. He is no less upset, nor willing to suddenly change his mind but he grabs me by the elbows and pushes me away roughly so that I don't end up hurting myself. Crawling on the ground, he steps back before pulling himself up and staggering but he isn't drunk. He's been drinking but it's not the alcohol that shakes him like this: I recognize the difference, also because I've never seen him in this state. In his big good eyes there is no freshly roasted coffee but boiling petrolium. His expression, a cracked mask of hatred and at the same time authentic desperation, reduced to its core. He trembles in his sweat-soaked undershirt and makes a gesture that he has never deemed necessary in front of me. He hides his hands, trying in vain to put them in his back pockets, like a child caught red-handed. Does he feel reassured by my presence? Is he bothered by it? He's gasping.

Jimmy what… what are you doing? Why?! - I ask him in tears, advancing slowly on my knees. - NO! - he spits out a scream, trying to freeze me in place. - Please… Y/N, no. Enough. That's enough. - I shake my head, I'm confused and I rub my now soaked cheeks. Gray due to the white mixing with the black of the mascara.

- What are you talking about, pleas st-… -

- SHE SCREAMED, Y/N! SHE SCREAMED IN GENUINE TERROR, I TELL YOU!-

- BUT WHO, JAMES?! FOR GOD'S SAKE, WHO?! -

He hates it when I call him James but that seems strangely to appease him. He stares at me like a madman and, in silence, seems to wonder how it is possible that I don't know the circumstances of his delirium but, gradually, lucidity returns and, at the same time, an atrocious sadness. - That… oh, fuck. She was one of the very few people to smile at me and make me sincere wishes. Did she really want to spend time with me… did I fall for it like an idiot? I do not know. It was her! She chose it, I warned her but… - while Jimmy tries to explain, he forgets to hide from me and gesticulates, so I notice a burn on the hand that he was seriously about to cut off. The living flesh fades from red to the paleness of the bladder. Grains of not completely dissolved salt outline the surface like grotesque lace. He must have poured it in. - She took off my glove, alluding to my skills as a pilot but then a heartbreaking scream and… and… I had to let it go. Instead, I tried to calm her down but she…how the fuck is that possible? How did she not know I'm a fucking freak? It was written all over the damn thing! But she knew it. She knew it very well. My attentions were the perfect excuse to defend herself. She called me a monster, a half-man, an abomination and so on, you know, what's new? But then… she burned me with her fucking lantern. You convince yourself that you have a zest, that you are used to it and yet it's not true. And, as with Meep, the day comes when insults are no longer enough. - he doesn't have the courage to look at me but what he says is intimate. Devastating. Shareable. - The bar of wickedness is raised. Of course! That girl wasn't defending herself. She squirted oil on me once, twice, three times. She was torturing me, only stopped because I raised my arms and… the fear came back. She's gone. -

I'm annihilated. Annihilated by what I see and hear, I undergo the hypnosis of Jimmy's pain which soon becomes mine too. His irises are diluted by a sea of tears; suffering makes him unfairly wonderful. In the meantime I have reached him and, from the bottom of my position, I stare at him without embarrassment. I wrap one arm around his knees while the other grabs his good hand and places it on the back of my neck. He wants to take it away, he puts up a feeble resistance but he hears me sobbing and stops immediately. - Yes, Jimmy: her wish was to hurt you. This isn't a party, it's a visit to the slaughterhouse and we are the pigs. As always. - now I hold him with both arms, rubbing my face between his knees. The fabric of his trousers becomes stained white make-up until my skin is almost clean. I raise my head. My face's a palette used between stains that can be washed away and stains that my skin retains.

- Look at me. Are you looking at me? -

- I am. - he says, with the tone of someone who absolutely has to convince you. He hasn't noticed but he's stroking my hair. His eyebrows furrowed and his mouth turned down. -The kindness with which you caress me has never belonged to anyone among the few who have touched me. Not even my mother. - I'm deadly serious. I look at him with watery eyes but it's his tear that rains down my forehead. - Not even to myself. - because I mistreated myself, inflicted physical pain and consequent signatures but he… - If those are really claws, everyone should have them. Maybe they would learn what kindness is. - if I wasn't the one talking to him, he wouldn't believe me. He would mock me, it would be bitter and biting. Instead he fights with the truth that I offer him and stares at me dazed. Almost angry, hunted. The problem is that he believes me, so he picks me up and it's as if he's looking at me for the very first time. His forehead is damp with sweat, so I free his unruly curls before rummaging through my clutch bag. I make sure he follows my gestures and I take out a box of matches: I choose one and place it under the perfect curve of his nose. He flinches but stays as I light the end and, solemnly, set the piñata on fire. While the papier-mâché lobster is devoured by the flames, little by little, melted sweets and chocolate perish in the meadow. Neither of us needs to introduce what's about to happen: just as I stand on tiptoe, he lowers his disheveled head and the tips of our noses meet. It's the last chance to retract before the soft "m" of his upper lip meets my lower lip, dehydrated from makeup. In the first friction there is the disbelief of all the years in which we have not allowed ourselves and then, surrounded by the smell of burning, the kiss intensifies in an unstoppable crescendo. Jimmy wraps his bare arms around my body with the eagerness of someone who must survive. For my part, I let out a moan and cling to his shoulder blades: I realize what I wanted and how much I needed to be satisfied. Jimmy and I share the thrill of the kiss, so much so that he murmurs something incomprehensible against my teeth before parting them with his tongue and searching for mine. He holds my head as if I were water and he was drinking and he doesn't care about the cosmetic taste I have on; his lips turn pale. He slides down my neck without any self-control and I understand that he would take me here, right now. In the midst of the fire. - Wait. - I try to stop him with a deafening smooch. We are out of breath and the air is irrespirable but he stares at me with an imploring look. - How much longer? - he plead. I feel his blood vibrate under his golden skin, between the vertebrae of his broad back. - You have to trust me: I have an idea. - The smoke screen rises towards the sky and us. We… dissolve in the middle.

taglist: @taintandviolent @silverzoomies @doll3tt33 @wh0re43van @fear-is-truth + PLEASE, If you want to be added or I forgot someone, let me know!

#evan peters #american horror story #evan peters fanfic #jimmy darling #ahs freakshow #evan peters smut #jimmy darling x reader #ahs murder house #ahs asylum #ahs hotel #ahs cult #ahs fandom #james patrick march #kit walker #kai anderson #ficfymo #angst #bff to lovers

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pav-ia · 6 months

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first i'd like to say THANK YOU SM YOURE LITERALLY FEEDING PAVIA FANS AFTER WEVE BEEN SEARCHING FOR SCRAPS FOR SO LONG | LOVE YOUR WRITING ♥︎♥︎♥︎

methinks he would be very very interested in the art of dancing for two. he's read about it, he's heard the music, he's seen the pictures, the movies, the fancy suits, the sweeping dresses, the roses - all in bits and pieces here and there. dancing with one's lover, holding them in your arms and watching the light of a candle or the moon grace their features as you let the music and movements convey the feelings in your heart, is something he believes to be very special. now that he's with you daily, the vivid image of you two dancing only grows stronger in his mind (the softening of his heart be damned): the way your fingers would lace together with one hand and grab onto each other with the second, the little clever lines he'd say now and again to try to fluster you and get you to mess up, the music that he'd carefully pick out just for the moment, and, of course, the look he would give you before the classic kiss that he's always seen after a dance such as this.

and so, after you tell him in passing conversation that you 'don't do dancing’, your imagined endearing clumsiness is another bit of extra charm added to his daydreams. he would just lead you gently with his voice and his hands, smiling once you finally get it. but why let the fantasies be fantasies?

this is basically me asking for pavia dancing with his bf (or partner if you’re making it gn) who has never really danced before. UGHHH I NEED HIM

ANON KISS ME ON THE LIPS RIGHT NOW

,, dancing ”

pavia x gn reader

warnings :: idk fluff

months into your relationship as you’re growing out of your lovesick phase, hes slowly growing into his — he doesnt realize just how much he thinks about you.

when he comes to term that you are the closest thing to a soulmate that any person has ever experienced ever, hes suddenly aware of the way his first thought when he wakes up is you, the way his heart picks up when you do any minor task for him(he holds back a little squeal and giggle when you leave him gifts💀), how his face grows uncontrollably red when you do that stupid thing with your face- when you smile and your eyes have that warm fondness in them thats overwhelmingly warm— he hates it. hes a liar

he was always fascinated with dancing. it started with when he first started his life in the city, at clubs hed see different people connecting from music and those mesmerizing movements of hips swaying or arms swinging.

after he had done a few jobs disguising himself as a gentleman attending a fancy ball, slow dancing became what interested him more. he was stunned by the beauty and grace that two people could make from just moving, their steps in sync even if they were strangers.

when he met you, he had forgotten all about that year of his life where he was fixated on the art of dancing. for the first few months, he was closed off in the relationship. he didnt feel bad at first — why would he? he deserves to be loved after all — but the way you were so patient with him, so loving and so gentle, so sweet and genuinely kind was too much. it took him a while to tell you about his past, and even then he kept it vague, but you just held him and reassured him that he did deserve to be loved.

you were too good for this world.

it took almost as long to accept that you really did care just as much as he hoped you did. and when he did accept it, he became acutely aware of how much of an effect you had on him.

one night, he had come home late. he expected you to be asleep, but he heard you humming from the kitchen. he walked in on you gently humming a tune to yourself, his wolves leon and maleficent sitting at your ankles. you were making a simple stew, your body swaying from side to side to the tune of your gentle voice.

leon noticed him almost immediately, sitting up and running to his feet. he jumped up and put his paws on pavia, sniffing at his clothes. when you turned around, he gave you a gentle smile.

“do you dance?” he blurted. he didnt know where it came from, but it was sudden and out of nowhere.

you blink at him in surprise — what a sudden question. you smile at him and it tickles the parts of his heart that are cold and unapproachable.

“not really.” you respond to his question.

hes still standing near the entrance of the kitchen, his expression unreadable. “can i teach you?”

thats what led you two to the present. he took the lead, your hand in his as you moved slowly in your living room. the cd player contently humming out a slow, romantic song that pavia had picked out as you let him hold you.

one hand on your waist, his eyes are gazing down at you in a suffocatingly loving way. he has the faintest smile, before he pulls you closer. your head against his chest only made the moment more intimate, and he rested his head on yours.

your legs occasionally tripped over one another, but he caught you right away. he hummed along with the slow song, his hand moving from your waist to the bottom of your spine. he slid his cold hand under your shirt, pressing his palm over your skin, rocking you from side to side.

youre slowly getting it, moving along with the smooth rhythm of the music. you angled your head upwards, and he raised his head to look into your eyes, leaning down to press a kiss against your lips.

the song came to an end, and as you pulled away, he tugged on your shirt. he kept his hand on you as he put a new cd in the player, and pulled you close to do another dance.

#%write #pavia reverse 1999 #pavia x reader #pavia fluff #pavia reverse 1999 x reader #pavia x you #reverse 1999 #reverse1999 x reader #pavia #r1999 #r99 pavia

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mastertengen · 8 months

Text

Satoru Gojo x Fem reader

a/n: the personality will be based off of Makima from csm

category: Fluff

Possible ooc

Gojo attempts to take you out on a date

Gojo had been trying for weeks to convince Y/n to go on a date with him, but she always found a way to turn him down. It seemed like she was determined to keep their relationship strictly professional. But Gojo was relentless and refused to give up, He even asked Itadori, Nobara, and Megumi to help him Megumi refused but he was forced to anyways

One day, as they were discussing their plans for the weekend, Gojo mustered up the courage to try once again. "Y/n, I know you've been avoiding going on a date with me, but I promise it'll be fun. How about we go out this Saturday?" He smirked

I sighed, clearly hesitant. "Gojo, I've told you before, I don't think it's a good idea. We work together, and I don't want things to get complicated, Everything is strictly professional between us."

Gojo smiled mischievously, his eyes twinkling. "I understand your concerns, but what if I told you I know the perfect place to go to~? It would definitely make you change your mind."

I raised an eyebrow, curious about his sudden change in approach. "And where would that be?"

Gojo leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a low, enticing tone. "There's this amazing sushi restaurant that recently opened downtown. They serve the most delicious and unique sushi rolls you've ever tasted. It's an experience that you won't want to miss."

My eyes widened with newfound interest. I was a sushi lover, and the thought of trying new and innovative rolls was tempting. Still, I fought to maintain my resolve. "Nice try, Gojo, but sushi isn't enough to change my mind, You should knot that."

Gojo leaned back, pretending to be disappointed. "Well, if you say so. I guess I'll just have to enjoy those mouthwatering sushi rolls all by myself!"

I hesitated for a moment, my curiosity still getting the better of me. "Okay, fine. But this doesn't mean anything. It's just sushi."

Gojo smirked, victorious. "Of course, just sushi. I'll pick you up at seven on Saturday then."

As Saturday evening approached, Y/n found herself getting a a bit nervous. It wasn't a date, she reminded herself. Just two colleagues going out for sushi. But when Gojo arrived at her door, dressed in a sharp suit and holding a bouquet of her favorite flowers, Y/n couldn't help but feel a bit of excitement, A small smile planted on her lips.

They arrived at the sushi restaurant, and Y/n was immediately mesmerized by the elegant ambiance and the mouthwatering aroma of freshly prepared sushi. As they sat down, Gojo ordered an assortment of rolls, each more creative and delicious than the last. Y/n couldn't help but be swept away by the culinary experience.

As they laughed and shared stories between bites, Y/n realized that she was genuinely enjoying herself. The false facade she had built around her slowly began to crumble, and she allowed herself to relax in Gojo's company.

By the end of the night, Y/n found herself smiling and feeling a warmth in her heart that she hadn't felt in a long time. As they left the restaurant, Gojo glanced at her with a knowing grin. "I told you, Y/n. Sushi has its way of making everything better."

I smiled, my resistance finally giving way. "Maybe... just maybe, there's more to this than just sushi on the other hand, Our relationship is still strictly professional."

Gojo's grin widened and then he pouted at last thing i said, But he took my hand, intertwining our fingers. "I'm glad you finally gave me a chance, Y/n. But hey, You enjoyed it didnt you ?"

Y/n nodded, Before she can reply she hears a noise in the bush behind them, Gojo practically sweatdropping

"This is your fault, Itadori! Now they see us!" Nobara shouted her fake disguise falling off her face

"My fault!? You were the one that kept kicking me and Fushiguro!" Itadori shouted back, As he pushes her out the bush

I walk forward, Dragging Gojo along with me "I made sure to leave some sushi left back for you guys, But on the other hand, I knew you guys were here I enjoyed the show." I smile as the group of 3 tries to catch up to us.

A/n: I giggled while writing this if theres mistakes ignore it atp

#x reader #gojo x reader #gojo satoru #jjk gojo #jujutsu gojo #gojo x female reader #jujutsu itadori #yuji itadori #nobara kugisaki #jjk x y/n #jjk x reader #jjk x fem!reader #jjk fluff #fluff #x fem!reader #x female y/n #x female reader

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vodika-vibes · 2 months

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Congratulations on the 500 followers hun! Can I please get a Ruby with one of the clone trooper assassins who accidentally falls in love with the female reader who was kind to him and flirted with him while he was disguised as a regular clone to scope out 79's for his first mission, (maybe he hasn't officially killed anyone yet, up to you!) but he ends up totally blindsided by her, they end up having a couple of drinks, dancing together, getting hot and heavy, groping, making out on the dancefloor before moving to either a dark corner of the bar or the alley behind the bar where they fuck, it's amazing and he's absolutely as smitten for her as she is for him and basically ends up defecting from the Empire for her and using his assassin skills so they can escape offworld together? I totally understand if this character is too obscure to write for; I've just been re-watching tbb and these gorgeously dangerous guys have got me feeling some kind of way.😩 Thank you either way. 💖

Worth It

Summary: While at a club with your best friend, you meet a man who changes everything.

Pairing: Clone Assassin x F!Reader

Word Count: 899

Warnings: Smutty, though it's not detailed

Prompt: Ruby - Passionate Love

Tagging: @trixie2023 @n0vqni

A/N: Okay, so. I've never watched TBB, so my knowledge on the Clone Assassins is non-existent. Anyway, I dealt with the difficulties of this by only referring to him as he, and by writing in the reader's pov. I hope this is close to what you wanted!

“Why?” You drape yourself across the table as you stare, balefully, at your best friend. “It’s soooo hot. Why are we at a club? With the more hot? And all of the people with all of their breathing, making it hotter?”

Your friend props her hands on your shoulders and you grimace when her skin sticks to yours uncomfortably, “Because. You need to get laid.”

“Stop touching me. I think I’m melting into goo.”

“You’re dramatic.”

“You’re dramatic.” You snip back, sitting back up and grimacing again at the leather of the booth you’re sitting it sticks to your skin as well, “This is awful-”

“I swear to,” She rolls her eyes and then twists, and you can hear the sound of the leather pulling away from her skin, “Um…oh! Go dance with him!”

You tilt your head away from the ceiling to look at her, “Him? Him who?”

“Him!” She gestures to a man standing near the wall, nursing, what looks like, a glass of ice water. “Tall, dark, and broody over there.”

You consider it for about 5 seconds, and then tilt your head back, “Hard pass. I’m going to stay here and melt into a puddle of miserable goo. Thanks though.”

She rolls her eyes loudly, and stands. She tugs you out of the booth and drags you through the throng of people, and then shoves you at the aforementioned man.

He looks slightly startled to have you shoved at him, but not half as startled as you are to be shoved in the first place. “Here, she’s your problem now.”

Now that you’re closer to him, you have to admit that your friend has good taste in potential partners for you. The man is gorgeous. With dark eyes and dark skin and, frankly, incredibly kissable lips.

“Uh…hi?” You greet sheepishly, one of his hands is settled comfortably at the bare skin of your waist, and while it’s still miserably hot, you find that you don’t mind his touch.

“Hi.” He replies as he sets his glass down on the table next to him, there’s a small smirk playing on his lips, “So, you’re my problem now?”

You shrug one shoulder, a teasing smile playing on your lips, “Most men like the kind of problems I bring.”

“Is that right?” He hasn’t taken his gaze off your face, “Let’s put that to the test shall we?” He nudges you towards the dance floor, and you know that if you took your gaze off of him for a moment, your friend would be so smug, but you don’t want to look away from him.

He’s…mesmerizing.

He tugs you close, one hand settling low against the small of your back, while his free hand wanders up your side and across your upper back and into your hair, before sliding back down.

Normally, you hate dancing in clubs. Your dance partners have, in the past, been very bad about letting other men rub up against you. But that doesn’t happen with him, he seems to have a sixth sense about when people are getting too close to you.

It’s nice, having only him touching you.

And it’s either that, or the way that he’s looking at you, or the pleasant buzz from the fruity drink you finished earlier, or maybe the heat of the night-

But you can’t help from raising up on your toes and pressing your lips against his.

He kisses you back like his life depends on it, and his hands burn a path up your sides, across the swell of your breasts, and then back down to tightly grip your ass. His hands are everywhere, and you can’t help but release a needy groan against his lips and grinding against him.

For a moment, just a moment, he falters against you, but before you can ask if something is wrong, he’s ushering you out of the club and into the, slightly less, stuffy heat of the night.

He pins you against the wall just down a darkened alley, his lips never once leaving yours, his tongue sliding against your own. And when his hands slide under your top, calloused fingers caressing and tracing, your head falls back and you release a moan.

“I need you,” He gasps against your throat, “Can I have you? Please?”

You laugh breathlessly and slide your fingers up his neck and into his hair, “I wouldn’t have let you bring me out here otherwise.”

He groans against your throat, and his deft hands start tugging at your shorts, unfastening the button and sliding them just far enough down your legs that he’s able to slide his fingers against your slit.

Your hands curl into fists in his hair, and you release a shuddering groan, and his fingers pause, his dark gaze locked on your face.

“W-why are you stopping?” You whine, trying to arch against him.

He leans in so that his lips are pressed against your ear, “I’m defecting from the empire.” You freeze, your hands tightening in his hair, “Come with me.”

It’s a plea. Or a bargain.

And you bury your face in his neck as his fingers start moving again. You have friends here. Family. A good job.

But-

Heh. And that ‘but’ is really the big thing, isn’t it?

He pushes you closer and closer to your orgasm, and your arms tighten around him, “Okay.”

#star wars #tbb #vodika-vibes 500 followers celebration #tbb clone assassin x reader #clone assassin x reader #star wars fanfiction #x reader fanfiction #f!reader fic #18+ fic #clone thirsting #answered asks

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parsnippety · 9 months

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Brainstorming-

Mkay I have several ideas for alien/human posts so I'm putting them here before I forget. If this gets popular maybe I'll actually write some lol

Songs/singing : sounds being very powerful w/ other species; the most severe (?) sounds you'll find are soft clicks/rumbling and most languages developed through touch / what we'd call sign language. So these species are mesmerized by human singing cause they either can't do it / don't have enough control over the pitch of their voice or they "hear" by feeling vibrations and process tones differently.

This has endless possibilities- a human singing softly while working and causing some extreme reaction in the mechanics of the ship or their crewmates, humans taking over ships by accessing the intercom system, humans knowing the first thing to do if they're kidnapped is to yell at a really low pitch then a really high one cause chances are one of them will do something, videos of humans harmonizing becoming really popular (and being banned in several galaxies), two humans realizing they both know a song with a harmony and proceeding to sing it (causing everyone on the ship to stop what they're doing and just listen in awe), sign language becoming the main form of communication and ships having soundproof rooms so humans can talk to each other / themselves...

Species variation : most species didn't figure out efficient space travel for millions of years. Pair that with gene editing (to get rid of "imperfections"- usually this portion of the species' history is their "dark age"), and each individual looks pretty much identical. Most species have some sort of fetishized/slur word for individuals with any kind of abnormality, cause they're really really rare at this point. Think crocodiles; maybe some color variations but they've stayed more or less the same for millions of years. But humans? No two look the same- except maybe identical twins, but they could have different haircuts (don't even get me started on body modifications- other species do it, sure, but humans are already so different that it makes them a nightmare to teach about.) And in space the beauty standards are all over the place so if you want tattooed stripes you can get them- but wait, aren't there already some humans with stripes? And pointed ears? Dyed hair?

There's also the constant battle between human willpower and circumstance. When other species carefully figure out how to turn and move around an obstacle, humans are literally slingshotting themselves off of it. But for every death-defying feat, there are God knows how many feat-defying deaths. One human got an adrenaline rush and lifted an entire gnarflax. Another fainted 'cause they stood up too fast. Most species have clearly defined limits, so there's no pressure to push past them.

And mimicry : As if humans' vocal range isn't enough (what's that clicking? Sounds like a xhrhghfnl from my home planet- nope, it's John. Machinery malfunctioning? Alarms? Nope. F***ing John.), they can also make disguises and act. See, most species can manipulate the holograms or whatever but there's no way they'd be able to do convincing impressions in real time. Just going for it? Completely irrational.

One time, a human even convinced an entire rhusngi fleet that she was a rhusngi inspector "in disguise". (Honestly that line should've given it away but it walked and moved with the same mannerisms- the same- I don't even know. We were completely- what's that human expression?- shook.)

Not knowing what someone's going/been through unless they tell you is a completely novel concept. Imagine a human acting all violent when you take over their ship so you put 'em in the brig somehow, only to pull up the camera feed later and see them sobbing or completely frozen in a fetal position, or even worse- hurting themselves somehow. But the second you go down there, they're spitting curses at you and showing zero signs of weakness.

If anyone wants to write about these pls go right ahead. Sorry if they've already been done/overused (if they have, please lmk so I can go read them).

#humans are space orcs #humans are weird #humans are space australians #humans and aliens #random ideas #brainstorm

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filthyfluffyfantasies · 8 months

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✧ ˚ 　· 　　 . DL;DR - this fic is not meant for anyone under the age of 18 as it contains the following: thigh riding, use of petnames ( e.g, good girl, sugar, etc ) swearing. writer does not give permission for her works to be reposted, with or without permission. ✧ ˚ 　· 　　 .

prompt one - thigh riding

character | fandom - gareth emerson | stranger things

reader | original character - female reader, cheerleader & non -or vague, description.

words - roughly 2.7k

tagging - taglist here

✧ ˚ 　· 　　 . you stop by gareth's house to pick up a text book and your sweater to find him playing drums in his garage. a drumming lesson -and thigh riding, ensue. ✧ ˚ 　· 　　 .

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆. ───

❝ I don't get it. You could have any of the boys in the senior class and he's the one that gets you all hot and bothered? Gareth Emerson? I don't see the attraction, girl. Sorry..❞ - your best friend Angela's question pulls you out of your thoughts. You stick your tongue out at Angela and shrug. ❝ I've just always really liked him. He's a sweet guy, alright?❞

Angela shakes her head at your obvious distraction as the stop sign on the corner of the street Gareth lives on comes into sight. You've been dancing around your crush on the older boy for years now, damned if she has the first clue why. She wishes you'd just make a move, you're popular and it isn't like you can't have any boy you want.

❝ Its whatever, just do something already, damn it! Don't forget your sweater again, bitch! Tomorrow is the pep rally and Chrissy wanted everyone to match.❞ she calls out to you as she hurries away, leaving you alone at the stop sign.

From your spot, you can just barely hear Van Halen and drums. The door to the Emerson garage is open for once, a lone figure - Gareth -you recognize the red flannel instantly. It feels as if you're frozen, watching him bang away at the red drum kit from your spot.

He's just a boy. Get a grip. - the thought gets you moving in the direction of his house. And you intended to get what you came for and leave but you find yourself drawn to the garage instead.

Eyes glued to him as he twirls a drumstick between his fingers, cheeks red, his thick curls bounce with each move he makes. He's so focused on the song and keeping time with it that he doesn't see you as you linger, leaned against the door frame, twisting the end of your ponytail around the tip of your finger as you pop a quiet bubble with your chewing gum.

He's so pretty, you think, biting your bottom lip as he gets really into the drum solo. The faster he moves, the more his curls bounce.

It's truly a sight to behold and you’re mesmerized. Daydreaming.

You get so caught up in it that you don't realize he's not playing anymore and you're staring like an idiot until he's standing in front of you, close enough that you can smell cigarettes and the crisp clean scent of the body soap he uses. He clears his throat, snapping his fingers in front of your face to get your attention.

❝ Something you want?❞ - the question asked quietly, an edgy tone as he gives you a wary once-over.

You open your mouth to answer but just like every single other time he's spoken or you're just near the guy, it's as if you're tongue is glued to the roof of your mouth and the words won't come because your brain refuses to work. You manage a shrug.

Gareth grumbles to himself and mumbles something under his breath.

And boy when your brain and mouth decide they'll finally work, they immediately begin working way too well because the first thing that comes when you finally open your mouth is ❝ You have really pretty hands. I uhm..I noticed when you were playing the drum solo for Hot for Teacher.❞

Gareth raises a brow. Then he snickers quietly. It has to be a joke or an insult disguised as something nice. It has to be, he thinks, there's no way Munson is right. Not about her having a thing for me, that's like.. impossible.

❝ Shit.❞ you laugh softly and shake your head, frustrated with yourself for being so awkward. ❝ I uh..I meant to think that..to myself..I'm gonna uh..❞ you stare at the door behind his back helplessly, ❝ I just came by to get my Algebra book and my sweater. ❞

Okay he thinks just as soon as he's clocked the way heat creeps into your cheeks and the way you can't be still and you keep stepping just a little closer maybe Munson is onto something. She's always so quiet or jumpy around me.

As you step past him to go into the house and grab your sweater and the damned Algebra book you loathe with every fiber of your being, he steps into your way and you swallow hard, your head tilted as you stare up at him, twisting hair around your finger. ❝ Is something wrong?❞ you finally manage to speak. He chuckles quietly. ❝ I could show you, y'know.❞

You bite your bottom lip, eyes flitting to the drum kit nearby. It's something he enjoys, therefore, you're interested in it too. But learning to play seems a bit..daunting. Like you might be a bother.

But you think it's a way to be close to him. Take him up on it.

❝ Y-yeah❞ you smile as you stammer out the word, ❝ I'd like..totally love that, Gareth.❞ and as soon as you realize exactly how flirtatious you sound, a slow heat rises to your cheeks. ❝ Does now work?❞ you've stepped closer, vanilla and strawberry fills his nose as your soft little body rubs against his softly. You’re staring up at him with that cute little shy grin and twirling your hair and his train of thought jumps all the tracks, he's zoned out for a few seconds, unfocused. A hand grazes your hip before he can stop himself.

❝ Yeah. Now is perfect, actually.❞ - and he's silent. He has not one clue what to do, he never thought he'd make it as far as he did. He assumed that you'd laugh at his offer, he never once stopped to consider at all the possibility that you'd say yes, let alone want to do it immediately.

You're doing it again, you have this cute little nervous habit where you bite your lip a lot when you're nervous. She does it nonstop around me, he thinks, stepping even closer as he clears his throat and nods to his drum kit, giving you a little smirk.

You wander over behind him, pouting the whole way because he stepped away from you and you missed the body to body contact you had.

He sits down on the stool and pats his thigh. You gaze at his lap, swallowing hard, your heart about to beat right out of your chest. He chuckles quietly and reaches out, pulling you down into his lap. You wind up settled on one of his thighs and biting back a whimper as you feel your body get fire-hot all over in a split second, you manage to pull together enough to glance over your shoulder at him as he slips his arms around you to grab his drumsticks.

❝ Hey.❞ you ask, ❝ do you know any Metallica? Or Def Leppard?❞

He chuckles, a little stunned that you can even name any musicians beyond Madonna because he's only ever heard you listening to her when you're over babysitting.

❝ You..you listen to those bands?❞ he asks, shock and awe making his eyes widen almost comically and you laugh softly, grinning as you nod. ❝ And Poison, Motley Crue, Ozzy Osbourne.. What? Music is music, Gare.❞

❝ Yeah, well..❞ he trails off. He almost points out that people think it's weird but he keeps the thought to himself instead.

He doesn't want to be like the people who judge and bully him.

❝ How about this one?❞ he starts to play the drum solo for Foolin. ❝ Do you know that song?❞ he asks, rough lips just barely graze your ear when he asks, chuckling quietly.

You bite back a whine, his breath is warm, his voice is silk and gravel all at once, everything combines to be a distraction to you, so much that you barely manage to keep your cool enough to answer, a breathy ❝ Yeah. Foolin..right? Is it Foolin by Def Leppard?❞

He chuckles quietly. Manages a nod as he leans against your back and mutters a husky and quiet ❝ It is. Good girl, sugar.❞

Forgetting where you happen to be sitting, you do a little happy dance when he confirms that you've gotten it right. When he calls you a good girl, you can feel yourself melting. All your weight settles solidly on his thigh, which you're straddling.

You wind up rocking yourself right over his thigh and Gareth bites back a growl, his drumstick falling from his fingertips as he feels himself starting to get hard, the way you've rocked yourself against his thigh going straight to his cock.

That felt so good, you think, if I were braver… - the thought goes unfinished because Gareth clears his throat and after he picks up the drumstick he's dropped, he places both sticks into your hand, his hands engulfing yours as he chuckles quietly. ❝ You wanna hold 'em like this, ❞ he takes the drumsticks back, demonstrating the proper way but you're too distracted by his hands to retain what he's shown you so when he wraps his hands around yours, you squeak quietly.

Gareth snickers to himself, thinking, Okay, maybe Munson is onto something here. Wait, - that thought is quickly replaced by a heaping dose of skepticism in the form of, There's no way. Maybe she's just shy. Or maybe I'm too close and it's making her uncomfortable. That has to be it..Unless…

But when he lets go of your hands and they just happen to fall to your sides, caging you in place on his lap and you whine a little, squirming in his lap until your back is pressed totally against his chest and you manage to rock yourself over his thigh at least two times in the process, he finds himself wondering.

If you weren’t comfortable, you wouldn't keep trying to get even closer to him.

❝ I..uh..This is okay, right?❞ you ask quietly and you don't dare turn around and look at him because you can feel your body burning hot and you know if you were to, the desire you have to make a move might just trump any self preservation you still have and then you might really make things awkward.

❝ It’s fine. Are you okay?❞ he asks, curious because you're breathless and you keep moving around. He's in the midst of kicking himself for not just letting you have the stool to yourself while he stood behind you and the entire time, you're trying to press yourself down against his thigh just a little more because the way it feels when you do it is so good that you can't resist trying.

You’re aching, the accidental brushes up and down the length of his thigh have you throbbing with need and soaking through thin lace beneath your cheer skirt. You finally manage to mumble ❝ Y-yeah. I'm fine.❞ but you're dazed.

Gareth bites back a groan and he tries to focus on the music, on the way he's helping you hold the drumsticks in your hand, on anything but the warmth between your thighs or the way it feels when you move around, pressing yourself down into his thigh just a little harder each time you do it.

❝ Like this.❞ he takes the sticks and demonstrates again, patiently. He nearly drops the sticks a third -fourth, time as you squirm just a little, all over again.

You giggle softly, cheeks on fire. ❝ Sorry! I'm so bad at this.❞ you mutter. He laughs quietly, the warmth of his breath tickles your ear. ❝ No you're not. Nobody can play when they're just starting out, sugar.❞ he mutters, pressing his chest against your back even more as his hands cover your own again. ❝ Good girl.❞ he chuckles quietly against your ear, ❝ See? You're already getting the hang of it.❞

Just make a move already. The thought comes, Gareth coughs quietly as it does. The worst that will happen is she laughs. You’re kind of used to that reaction. - but for all the sense it makes, there's a huge reason he just can't bring himself to do it.

He actually likes you. A lot. Enough that the two or three times he's called you sugar or good girl has him worried that he's going overboard, dangerously close to blowing any chance in his wildest dreams that he might’ve had with you.

Just do something. He doesn't have to be the one to take the lead, y'know. - the thought is nagging at you. ❝ I've got an amazing teacher...❞ you take a deep breath and prepare yourself. You try to reign yourself in, even if it's only a little. It's probably way too late for that now, you think, might as well just go for it.

One of you needs to do something. He's both totally oblivious and entirely too nice to make a move.

And you want him bad enough that you're sick of fighting it. You're done chickening out.

As you turn to face him, his drumstick crashes to the concrete, the sound is jarring. You press yourself down against his thigh and his breath hangs, he just barely manages to stop another growl as his fingers dig into your lower back and your hip. ❝ __?❞ he questions, caught off guard.

You swallow hard and your eyes settle on the way pearly teeth graze against the rough skin of his bottom lip. He goes to speak again, his words cut off by your finger pressing into his mouth.

❝ You’re kinda beautiful.❞ you mutter in awe. He can't stop the low growl that rises up from deep in his chest this time. Blue eyes fix on the way you've raised one of your hands, caught his signature red flannel vest in your grip as you rock yourself over his thigh all over again. ❝I've always thought so..❞ you add as an afterthought.

You look him in the eyes as you say it, a little hiss slips out as your eyes flutter open and closed and your head falls back a little. You’re rocking yourself against his thigh just a little faster now. He can feel how hot you're getting. He's hard enough to break and half afraid that any second, he's going to wake up and realize this was just another wet dream.

❝ You are, sugar.❞ he mumbles, half expecting to wake up because what's happening, it has to be a dream.

You lock eyes with him and move closer. Slipping your arms around his neck. ❝ Can I..❞ you stop talking, you need a minute or two to pull yourself together, ❝ Can I kiss you, pretty boy?❞

Gareth Emerson is floored. He's never had anyone want to kiss him, let alone ask him like you just have. ❝ Do you wanna kiss me, sweetheart?❞ he asks, gazing up at you.

❝ Mhm.❞ you're practically purring, melting into him even more. It takes a few seconds but he finally catches on, realizes it's not a dream and you're leaning in real close. His heart is pounding like a drum. When you rock yourself over his thigh yet again, he groans and catches hold of your hips, warns you ❝ If you keep it up, sugar...❞ as his lips just barely graze your own.

The whine that escapes your mouth is needy and it's not quiet at all. You drag your fingers through thick curls and tug as your mouth bumps against his softly. Clumsy. ❝ I can't stop.❞ you mumble as your tongue parts his lips, dragging along his tongue, ❝ I..I don’t wanna. Feels so good.❞ the kiss deepens, his hand raises, slipping up your shirt and underneath your bra as you moan out his name and he squeezes your hip, guiding you back and forth over his thigh, ❝ Good girl. Let me help, yeah?❞

❝ P-please?❞ you beg, gasping softly when he moves you from his thigh to his lap and you can feel his clothed bulge as it presses up into you. He nips at your bottom lip hungrily, a hand raised to tug your hair free so that it tumbles down from the two crooked ponytails you pulled it up into for cheer practice this afternoon. The two of you are breathless, every single time he bucks himself up into you, he's bigger. Harder.

❝ Tell me how that feels, sugar. I..I wanna make you feel good.❞

❝ Feels so good. So good.❞ you nip at his lip and he parts your lips with his tongue all over again, ❝ I can feel how wet you are, sweetheart.❞ he mutters, ❝ –ah fuck. such a good little girl for me, aren't y'?❞

You melt into him all over again, throbbing, needy and begging him to take you right then and there…

#gareth emerson #gareth emerson fanfiction #gareth emerson fanfic #gareth emerson x reader #gareth emerson x y/n #gareth emerson x you #( ᴛʜᴇ ᴛᴏ ᴅᴏ ʟɪsᴛ ✓ )#lazyghoulskinktober2023 #🔞ɴғᴡ. ᴍɪɴᴏʀs ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ɪɴᴛᴇʀᴀᴄᴛ ᴀɴᴅ ʀᴇᴀᴅ ᴀᴛ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴏᴡɴ ʀɪsᴋ.

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ariicandy · 2 months

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Prologue — Huge News Drop!?!?!?!?!?

Hope this prologue was okay, I forgot to do the private accounts for some characters which I will update. Anyone can share tips with me to help get set on trying to do an smau🙏🙏

“I told you we should have atleast disguise ourselves a bit to not get asked about our new show, brother.” Lynette said nonchalant from speeding ahead to their destination. “I know, I know, I didn’t think they would announce it today. I thought it was tomorrow I swear!!” Lyney said checking up to his sister. After a few minutes of trying to speed walk to their destination, the popular arts n’ crafts store every popular show and event uses, [Name]’s Blueprint Designs!

A bell chimes, signaling someone or people have entered the store. Fortunately for lyney and lynette, it seems no people are in the store at the moment. Earning a sigh of relief for lyney seeing they can now get what they came here for, prop supplies for their new show. The 2 siblings looked around the store in ease seeing what they should get from the vast variety of supplies of paint, wood, brushes, custom cutouts, and many more things the store can offer. Talking to one another the siblings were discussing the mandatory items they need first so they can get the rest of the list later next week, they were suddenly interrupted with someone. “Hi hello! Welcome, are you finding everything okay?” A worker has approached lyney & lynette wondering if they needed any help, and lyney looked stunned at how gorgeous the worker is. The worker not knowing it being the owner of the store, [Name] [Last Name], unknowingly by lyney & lynette.

The world seemed to stop for a moment looking at the worker’s eyes as if they were the heavenly gaze one prays to, but lyney snapped out of it when lynette bumped her elbow to her brother’s arm. “Ah! Sorry for that that! But we do have a question if we can do a commission for props and small crafts??” Lyney miraculously spoke immediately after being spaced out. “Of course!! Let’s had to the front desk and we can do that.” After discussing and calculating the pricing amount, props for the show will be delivered and done by [Name]’s blueprint design!

“Brother, you been acting a little weird since we encountered the person we met at the blueprint design store?” Lyney’s eyes widened from his sister remake, was he really acting out of character? “I’m alright lynette, what makes you say that?” “Well you were staring a bit at the person we were discussing to and would hesitate to immediately respond when we were asked about a this or that decision.” Lyney was stunned to realize what his sister lynette said..was true..painfully true that he didn’t even realize it. He looked away in embarrassment with one hand rubbing the back of his neck to try and hide his embarrassment, in which, he could not. “It all seems strange cause you were never like this whenever it’s with other employees from the many times we went for our props. But it was only to the person we talked today which happened to be my friend [name] I have gotten to know since we came to order to the store. It’s strange.” Lynette crossed her arms thinking to herself trying to guess why her brother was like this. Lyney was also trying to think why the person he just met had such a mesmerizing impact to him, he also thinking of their mesmerizing eyes that he was lost in for a moment.

Masterlist | Next

Taglist(open) — @sleepy-waffle

#★☆﹒smau #・ nouveau livre ˎˊ˗#astronetwrk #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #genshin impact x yn #genshin x y/n #genshin impact x you #genshin x you #genshin smau #genshin impact smau #lyney x reader #genshin lyney x reader #lyney x y/n #lyney x you #lyney x gender neutral reader

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alwaysteveswife · 11 months

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Flowers | Eddie Munson x Fem! Reader.

Little intro, this is a Bridgerton au [yes, my friend and I are obsessed with that series and that's why we made this lol]. The context is simple: you, a girl who just wants to get on with her life as an artist, is forced to marry a nobleman after reaching the right age. That's where you meet Eddie, a young nobleman with quite a lot of charisma and much more liberal ideas than most men. The two decide to make a deal and pretend to love each other [we love sham marriage here] so you can each fulfill their dreams.

Warnings: Fluff, Bridgerton!au, reader has a little brother.

"Y/N" said Eddie with a big smile. He was carrying a large bouquet of flowers in his hands. among them were some big, bright sunflowers and.... What were those flowers that went next to the sunflowers? "At last we meet again."

Your heart stopped for a second as he felt Eddie's soft lips collide with your cheek. You couldn't remember how or when, but for some reason, Eddie irrevocably had you at his feet, and you didn't regret it at all.

"Eddie" you murmured almost breathlessly, from that distance he looked even better. You tried to put the thought out of your mind. 'This is just a deal, Y/N', 'he doesn't think of you that way, Y/N' you kept repeating to yourself, but those big puppy dog eyes and that expressive smile made you fall for him again and again and again, you didn't even try to disguise it anymore. "You came, and with a present."

Eddie looked down, almost as if he'd forgotten he was bringing that ridiculously large bouquet of flowers. "Oh, this," a beaming smile decorated his face along with a slight pink tinge to his cheeks, "I bought them for you. They were a little hard to come by, but I managed to get it to look the way I wanted."

"Difficult why?" You frowned slightly, taking the bouquet from Eddie's hands. No doubt it was beautiful.

"Well" he scratched his messy hair nervously, his eyes running away from yours all the time, "your brother told me that you really liked flowers, especially sunflowers, so I thought about bringing you a bouquet with them, but there was no flower I liked" his tone was getting lower and lower, as the blush on his cheeks spread to his ears and neck, "I was doing some research and I discovered this flower; it's called Lisianthus."

You smiled in amusement. You had never heard of that flower, but the fact that he had done research just to give you such a beautiful bouquet like that made you want to shed tears from emotion. You had been overly sensitive lately.

"When I read what they meant, I knew they were the ones."

"And what do they mean?" You both exchanged glances, both breathless.

Eddie was afraid to tell you the truth, but he knew he would be unable to lie to you. He knew there was no chance that the love was mutual, he reminded himself of it every day before he slept and dreamed of your beautiful smile, he reminded himself of it every day before he came to visit you and be mesmerized by the beauty of your eyes and the beautiful freckles that evenly decorated your cheeks, and yet, every time he woke up, every time he said goodbye to you, his heart pounded incessantly, betraying any kind of sanity he might have had.

"They mean..." he gulped, averting his gaze from yours, he wouldn't be able to see the rejection on your face. "love and commitment. As described in the book, the Japanese flower serves as a way of expressing the desire for the recipient."

You stifled a gasp, your eyes widened and your lips parted slightly. Eddie's face was now no longer the only one flushed.

"You... why...?" the words weren't coming out of your lips the way you wanted them to, but it was inevitable, you was too shocked to even think straight.

"You don't need to say anything" an almost invisible smile appeared on his face. You couldn't help but shrink in place as you felt his hand rest on your head and mess up your hair playfully, "I know we're only word fiancés, but I wanted you to know that, at least in my heart, there will always be room for our love."

As quickly as it appeared, his hand moved away, this time warming his pants pocket instead of your hair.

Your mind wasn't thinking straight, how could it after such a confession? You didn't understand how this could happen to you now, just when you had promised yourself not to fall for this pretty-faced idiot with a mood more broken than yours and your brother combined.

"I promise this won't change anything," Eddie said, breaking the silence that had fallen between both of you. "After all, before fiancés, we are allies, each other's only choice for freedom."

You wanted to answer him, to confess the truth, to tell him that the feeling was mutual, but apparently fate doesn’t want that. A horde of teenage boys appeared out of nowhere, taking Eddie with them, leaving you there, alone with your emotions, alone with that beautiful bouquet Eddie had given you, no, they weren't flowers, they were his raw feelings.

You couldn't help but smile, covering your face lightly with the bouquet. Ah, you couldn't wait to see him again.

Masterlist

#stranger things #fanfic #eddie munson x reader #eddie x you #eddie x reader #eddie x fem!reader #eddie munson #eddie stranger things #bridgerton au #fluff #eddie munson fluff #stranger things au #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x fem!reader fluff #stranger things fics #stranger things x reader #stranger things fluff #stranger things blurb

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mistswalker · 5 months

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Meet The Purple Menace

So, this character of mine has been part of a lot of memes and comics and art over the years but I don't think I've ever properly introduced him. So here goes! (Art above by @tricksterpale and @king-there0f ❤❤)

Meet Daimine! (Pronounced DAY-minn) My ridiculous, chaotic, hedonistic, Soundless mesmer.

He's a deeply talented illusionist whose specialty lies in stealth, clones, and deception. He prefers blinking from place to place rather than walking, getting a special delight out of startling people when he appears.

He tends to mentally "collect" features he considers beautiful or interesting about a person to work into a future disguise. He likes to make a game of mimicry, quickly learning the ins and outs of a given lifestyle and performing them back until his interest shifts. He even has a personal "sona" appearance fashioned after each of the other races stocked for blending in, and will hold those appearances for sometimes weeks on end if it suits him.

He's not very good at understanding complex emotions, especially those of other people, and so instead will explore them through the concept of storytelling or performance. Day to day, however, he dons a perpetually jovial facade, preferring to just dip out when a situation becomes less fun, or at minimum, entertaining, than he thought he signed up for.

Though his motivations may seem rather straightforward, woe to anyone who tries to use this knowledge to control him. The only thing more powerful than his desire for a good time is his loathing for authority or control. He can and will be a contrarian little shit the second he thinks someone is trying to manipulate him without his enthusiastic consent.

Prior to the start of Hope's Legacy, he had spent the last year in the Fields of Ruin, trading back and forth between moonlighting his humansona as a separatist, and his charrsona as a renegade to sow chaos on both sides of the war in Ebonhawke for his own enjoyment. Previous occupations include: Assassin, bounty hunter, bandit, and adopted skritt.

#mypost #gw2 #guild wars 2 #guildwars 2 #guild wars #guildwars #sylvari #gw2 oc #daimine #character post #Hope's Legacy #HL #mystories #Cas #my characters

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kayssweetdreams · 3 months

Text

Love Conquers All

(A tie in story to BBU: The Ballad of Beatrice. There will be some important plot points here, so spoilers to come)

Cotton stared out into the distance of where she and Midnight settled this time. She gave a sigh. It was the anniversary of when she and Midnight first met and fell in love, but due to Midnight's...infamy, they couldn't go anywhere fancy, or even around other animals without them screaming in terror and trying to attack.

A tear rolled down Cotton's face, she still couldn't stop thinking about how their love ended up changing everything...and that terrible incident that caused them to go on the run in the first place. A gentle paw rested itself on her shoulder "Cotton dear? what troubles you?" Midnight asked, his voice bringing Cotton out of her thoughts. The pink sheep wiped her eyes "I-It's nothing, just reminiscing....that's all." she said.

Midnight wasn't fooled by her words "Cotton, my sweet treat, I know you...you never shed tears unless it's troubling thoughts in your head." he said, his paw wiping away one of the sheep's tears. Cotton sighed, she hated when Midnight saw through her. "Oh Midnight...It's just that, I'm remembering the incident. And how it caused us to be like this now..." she said, looking down to the ground.

"I sometimes wonder, if the universe is setting us up to fail. If we hadn't have met, then maybe...maybe none of this would have happened..." she weeped, more tears falling from her eyes. Midnight sighed. He couldn't help but remember that the incident was partially his fault as well, but Cotton had the luxury of walking away scott free, while he was a wanted lion...but she never left him.

He held her hooves "Well...if we never met, I would never have found the sweetest sheep in this world, nor would I have ever learned that love was possible for me...with another species." He said, cupping Cotton's face with his paw. Cotton still didn't stop "But you're wanted! We can't go anywhere without you having to wear a disguise, or hiding." She said, holding his paws

"I would have still been a wanted Lion, incident or not. No accident in the world could ever change that, nor could it ever stop me from loving you." He said, a smile visible on his muzzle. Cotton sniffed, Even though Midnight was hunted around the world, he still loved her...and she still loved him. "Oh Midnight...nothing could ever stop me from loving you either." She said clasping both his paws.

The two of them shared a loving embrace as they gazed out at where they set up shop this time: The Tree where they first fell in love. Where their paths first crossed, and where their hearts became one. "Well, Let's set everything up. Nobody is gonna come here." Midnight said, walking back inside the shop to grab a few items inside.

Moments later, the two of them were having a romantic candlelit dinner under the stars. Midnight had cooked his famous risotto (That Cotton Loves) and Cotton had gone through the trouble of sneaking a bottle of Midnight's favorite champagne into the shop when they had traveled, popping it open and pouring them both a glass.

Just as Cotton went to go and bring out her Estrella cupcakes, Midnight then asked "Remember the first night when we kissed?". Cotton smiled "I remember. We sat underneath this very tree, and you had started to sing for me." She said, setting the tray down. Her ears then perked up when she heard Midnight sing.

youtube

If happiness was a tangible thing

It would be you

If you'd have told me the feeling you'd bring

I'd think it untrue

And people search for a wonder like you

All of their lives

You still amaze me after all this time

Cotton felt the tears well up in her eyes again as Midnight bowed and held out a paw, offering a dance to the sheep.

You pull me in like some kind of wind

Mesmerized by the hold I'm in

Leave you here, I don't wanna

I wanna

The two of them waltz in the forest, the lights in the Flora providing them with enough light to see in each other's eyes as they danced through the night

Promise as one does

I, I will protect you at all costs

Keep you safe here in my arms

I, I will protect you at all costs

At all costs

Midnight sang his heart out, his eyes hidden underneath his mane, but Cotton could see love behind it, as she began to sing as well

What's pain when I look at you? No way

I could explain you, even if tried to

I'll never dream like used to do

If someone tried to hurt you, I don't

See how that could happen

I'd fight for you in ways you can't imagine

Felt this, no, I haven't, I hope

It would be all right to stay right here beside you

Midnight could feel his heart soar as he heard Cotton's voice, the song that they sang, many moons ago, but their love never dwindling. The two of them sang together, their voices joining together.

And promise as one does

I, I will protect you at all costs

Keep you safe here in my arms

I, I will protect you at all costs

At all costs

The power of their voice joined together, as the two of them could feel themselves getting weightless, the world losing its gravity as their love lifted them above the trees and into the stars

If you're ever feeling like you're lost

I will come find you

Man all fronts, there's no ocean I won't swim across

To be right by you

And not just once, here and now I swear on my response

I'll remind you

This was the most carefree and happy that the couple had ever felt ever since the incident, it seemed that everything just disappeared, and it was only them that mattered...right there, right now.

And promise as one does

I, I will protect you at all costs

Keep you safe here in my arms

I, I will protect you at all costs

At all costs

Cotton and Midnight smiled as they soared above the air, the moon acting as their spotlight, and the stars their audience, as they gave each other a passionate kiss that lit up the night...

Just goes to show. True Love can conquer all...

Art done by the awesome @robinfollies

@billiebustupofficial @bbu-fan-blog

#Billie Bust Up #BBU OCs

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