#but i refuse to apologize for a r t

[cheonstapes]

HAPPY 1K THOUGH LET GO AHHHHHHH IM SO HAPPY FOR YOU

But request time gurl!😘😌✊, so what about a nerd!Miguel\dom x nerdygirl!reader LIKE IMAGINE THE FLUFF AND THE SMUT THERE BOTH BE A BLUSH MESS but I feel like Miguel would take the lead and show he dom when doing it like dont blame me! 😭✊ like he still nerdy Miguel we all know the sweet boy but let make the nerd that friend s with the popular group and have a girlfriend who is nerdy!reader and which is a very shy person then Miguel is.

Pls my life depends on this request gurl and I hope your having a great day though BYE STILL SO HAPPY FOR YOU EACHING 1k following

-🐈

miguel o’hara stars in… ‘OUR FIRST TIME’ (ﾟωﾟ)

*･゜ﾟ･*:.｡..｡.miguel o’hara x reader.｡. .｡.:*･゜ﾟ･*

SMUT

you and your nerdy boyfie, miguel, have your first time together 🩷

cw; loss of virginity, creampie!!!!!, iloveyous, it’s actually really cute, womb fucking ig, softdom!nerd!miguel, NAWT PROODREAD!!!

2k+ words

@cheonstapes: thank you sm lovelie🩷🩷 apologies it took so long but this was so fun to write and i love your mind. i hope you enjoy beautiful! also tumblr keeps fucking up my italics and bolds so im gonna add them on later!

you and miguel had to have been the most stereotypical couple at the university.

who would’ve guessed the two biggest nerds on campus would’ve gotten together — especially when it was because of your shared interest in genetics. but to miguel’s friends, it was so sweet — a little cringe, but sweet. seeing that it had already been a year since you two started dating, the two of you not being able to hold a conversation without stuttering and blushed profusely was quite concerning.

every time you looked him in the eyes, your heart would suddenly beat a million times faster — face flushing, hands trembling as you try to come off as calm as possible. it was so embarrassing, you could cry just thinking about it. he had such pretty eyes hidden behind those thin frames, didn’t make it better that he would stare into your soul every time you talked.

but miguel wasn’t any better — in fact, he was worse. his whole friendship group being the talk of the college helped miguel to open up more, the persistent attention meaning he had to adapt to being surrounded by people. the incessant staring? that’s him trying to make himself less nervous by making you more nervous so you would stop looking at him so he could admire you without you realising — long, i know. but he loved how sweet you were, the way you were so deeply in love with him — just like he was with you.

walking out of your biology lecture, he speeds up walking to catch you on the othwr side of the room — gently slipping his hands into yours. you tense, looking up at his handsome face before relaxing — “ah, m-miggy!” he smiles so softly, wrapping his beefy arm around your waist. “hey, pretty — you finished for today?” his fingers squeeze the fat of your hips, pulling you into his chest as he leans against a nearby wall.

he always knew how to make you so fucking nervous, staring down at you like you were the centre of his world — which you in fact were. “yeah! i was just gonna go back to my dorm and study. would…well, it’s ok if you’re busy — but do you, maybe, wanna…” god, why is it so hard to ask your boyfriend to hangout! he knew what you wanted to ask, he just wanted to hear you say it. “do i wanna what, hm? i mean — i don’t have any plans later either, i was thinking of going to pete-“

“no!” a brief flicker of slight panic takes over your face, you refuse to be that much of a mess to the point where you can even ask your own boyfriend out. “i mean, would you like to come my dorm tonight? t-to study, obviously.” amazing job, girlfriend, amazing job. once again, he wore that stupidly handsome smirk — fingers kneading the soft flesh of your waist. “study? of course, babe — why didn’t you just ask?” prick.

miguel always said he found it easier to study when you were right next to him — as in, resting in between his legs as your head lay on his chest. “did you get the answer to number 8? i think i missed that lesson…” you tilt your head, looking up at him. you looked so cute with your little glasses as you studied, a small pout on your lips as you tap on his leg for him to help you out.

he was thinking a lot of things right now, and none of them were the answer for number 8. before he met you, miguel was always deep in his studies — head buried in a textbook every night. but now you’re his, he can’t think about anything else. the outline of your chest against your tight shirt, pert nipples straining against the fabric since you insist you feel better without a bra — he wasn’t a perv, but damn if you were making him feel like one.

“u-uh…i think — uhhhh…” he was really fucked. your cute little giggle and the way you shimmied around to sit on your knees, hands clutching his cheeks. “migs, you’re burning up! you ok?” he was no ok, not by a long shot. despite having so much attention on him simply because of the people he’s friends with, miguel was still very much a virgin. yeah, he’s jerked off before — but that was only after he met you. your entrance into his life awakened a part of his brain that he thought was forever stored away — and he did not know how to deal with it.

sex was something the two of you were yet to talk about, 2 years into the relationship and it was like you were kids about to have their first kiss. there were lingering touches here and there, but oh how badly he wants to feel your sweet pussy around him. “can… i touch you?” he could barely register the words that came out of his mouth before he takes in the way your face changes completely. the heat radiating from your cheeks could melt the arctic, that was the one thing you weren’t expecting to hear. at all.

of course, you were a virgin too — all in all saving yourself for miguel for when the time comes. you just didn’t expect it to be so soon. he looked so depraved already, panting softly — hair tousled from when he was laying down, you want him so, so bad. “u-uh, yeah — go ahead!” you didn’t mean to sound so enthusiastic, but miguel didn’t care — a hand immediately trailing up your plush thighs, toying with the edge of your panties under your skirt. “you’re…you’re so pretty.” he could feel his hands shaking, heart pounding in his chest — the warmth of your skin and the small moans leaving your lips were fucking with his head.

the tender skin was so sensitive, causing your thighs to tremble under his touch. he didn’t expect you to be so sensitive. fuck, did he want to tease you for it, but he couldn’t talk — not when he was already about to bust when you haven’t even touched him yet. “mmm — m-miggy.. please..touch me.” you could tell he wanted to, he just didn’t know where to start. his fingers ran up your inner thigh, teasingly running over the small wet patch on your cute panties.

he felt like a newborn learning how to walk again, the rugged rhythm in which he was working your little clit showed how inexperienced he is — but you didn’t care, especially not when you yourself couldn’t even notice his lack of technique. he fully pulled your panties down your legs, throwing them to the side — there was a sharp in take of breath from him as he stared at your bare cunt, his bulge pressing harder aganst the mattress.

“g-god, baby, can… can i taste you, please?” miguel couldn’t believe how desperate he sounded, he had dreamed about eating your pretty, little pussy out for ever now, the thought of you denying him that now would break him. “y-yeah, fuck. please, miggy.” his tongue immediately latched onto your clit, swirling and sucking it into his mouth as his fingers probed your tight hole.

he knew you would need some extra prep to be prepared for taking him, so he made sure to make you feel as good as possible — he wasn’t about to let your first time be your worst. the fat of your thighs were tight around his head, holding him in place as he steadily fucked you with his tongue. for someone who was a virgin only 20 minutes ago, he sure knew how to work that tongue — your breathy moans breaking through the sloppy squelching noises of your wetness.

“migs…i — mmph!” the sensation was unknown but not unwelcome. a firm pressure in your tummy that felt like a dam about to burst all over your boyfriend’s face. miguel’s watched enough porn to know what that sound meant, reluctantly sitting up from his position between your legs to peer down at you — drooling cock bobbing between his thighs. he licked your arousal from his lips, shakily grabbing onto your legs to push them over his shoulders.

“baby, ‘m not letting you cum until you’ve had my cock in you — ‘s not how it works.” he felt like he was going insane, the sight of your pussy, so tantalisingly close to his length — the chubby tip poking against your entrance. you could only nod, you couldn’t argue with that — not when you’ve been waiting for this moment. upon getting your approval, he wrapped a beefy hand around his cock — smearing his pre-cum along your puffy folds.

he was so slow when he pushed into you, the sheer girth of him stretching your poor pussy thin. “fuckin’ hell, baby— s-so, so tight.” his strong hips pounded against your pelvis, your skin tinging a faint shade of red. your body was jostled against the headboard with every thrust, a thick rim of cream forming at his base. miguel was lost in the feeling of your cunt, drooling mindlessly against your neck as he rammed deep inside of you.

“m-miguel…!” the harder he fucked into you, the shakier your voice was — whiny moans and heavy grunts reverberated through your small dorm room. he couldn’t believe how good fucking you felt, your velvety walls gripping onto him like a life line. miguel was completely delirious, only letting incoherent mumbles — a bruising grip on your waist as he brings you back against his cock.

“ohhh, f-fuck…! iloveyou, so — shit, so much!” your pussy was so good, he didn’t even realised it slipped out — i love you. he really did, and in this moment — there was nothing else but the two of you, connecting so beautifully as you give yourselves to each other fully. he messily sucks on the skin just below your ear, simply grinding into your womb as his hand trails down your back — squeezing the flesh of your ass to pull you flush against him.

“i…i love you too, migs.”

you..you love him too? fuck. his hips stilled, gooey cum filling your cunt raw as he pours all of his love into you. miguel’s back heaved, his arms giving out under him as he falls on top of you — wrapping an arm around your waist as he carefully rubs your clit. his heart was soaring, smiling down at you as he fucked himself into overstimulation — determined to see you cum all over his cock.

“my pretty girl, you’re all mine — wanna see you cum. you gonna cum for me, yeah?” god, his voice was husky and deep — tickling your ear and sending tingles down your spine. your legs trembled, cunt spasming as it gushed out that clear liquid. it coated the sheets below you, splashing against his stomach — a low, gravelly moan leaving miguel as he filled you with his cum once again.

the two of you laid in silence for a beat, panting softly as he rested on your chest. one of your hands moved up to cup his face, picking up his glasses from your bedside stand — placing them on his face, albeit with wonkily but it matched that dopey grin on his face. “i swear to god, i’ve turned you into an animal, migs! you sure that was your first time?” giggling, you kissed his lips softly — nimble fingers brushing through his sweaty hair.

“guess i got a bit carried away, huh?” he sighed, softly rubbing your tummy. “‘s not my fault i’ve got the most beautiful, sexiest, most loving, caring, perfect, goddess of a girlfriend anyone could wish for.”

miguel was embarrassingly in love with you, but you wouldn’t have it any other way.

-smack myass like a drum

#cheonstapes #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o'hara #miguel x reader #miguel o'hara headcanons #miguel o’hara smut #miguel smut #cheonstapes films!🪷 #nerd miguel smut #nerd miguel #miguel ohara #miguel spiderman #atsv miguel #miguel ohara fanfiction #miguel ohara x y/n #miguel ohara smut

[abbyromanoff]

can I request a milf!wanda fic where she keeps catching her younger neighbor looking at her boobs whenever they interact so eventually she’s just like, ‘do you want to taste them?’ W r sucking on her tits & Wanda fingering her pls ❤️ mommy kink too if u could

TASTE OF DESIRE

PAIRINGS: Wanda Maximoff x reader

WORD COUNT: 1,008

WARNINGS: smut, manipulation with magic, fingering, mommy/momma (W), praise, overstimulation, reader is gn but is referred to as a “good girl”, voyeriusm, kinda dark!Wanda, milf!Wanda, think that’s all :)

NO ONE IS PERMITTED TO STEAL, COPY, OR REBLOG MY WORK AS THEIR OWN!!

Wanda continued to pump her fingers inside of you, letting a third soon join her and stretching you out even further. You gasped at the intrusion, nearly choking on your spit as a moan escaped your quivering mouth.

“Shh, you have to be quiet, little girl.” Your eyes were glossy as tears threatened to leave you, it only made her smile. She enjoyed seeing you like this, beneath her, begging to be fucked while you cry out in pain and pleasure.

“What did Mommy say earlier, baby?” Your bottom lip bounced up and down in jolts as you struggled to let out the words that had been prodding at your mind.

“M-mommy doesn’t like cry babies.” She nodded with a hum, her eyes landing on your cunt where you sucked her in with greed. You sniffled, grasping her biceps in your hands and trying to close your legs to no avail.

“Don’t deny me, Y/N. C’mon, you’re doing so good, don’t stop now.” You muttered an apology and squeezed your eyes shut as she spread your thighs, sitting in between them so you were forced to stay in this position.

“Look at you, taking Mommy so well,” She bit her lip with hunger, missing the way your eyes roamed around her body until they landed on one spot.

“Are you my good girl? Yeah? Who’s Mommy’s good girl?” She knew it drove you crazy, every praise sent your way caused you to spiral even further, landing you in a deep head space. She made you feel warm and fuzzy inside, something you never felt until you met her.

“Me, I-I’m Mommy’s good- girl!” Her digits teased your g-spot, causing your eyes to roll to the back of your head as you squeezed her skin tightly under your fingertips. Your nails dug into her and drew blood, yet she loved it dearly.

“That’s right! Oh, you’re such a smart little thing, Mommy’s so proud of you.” She ushered, and even though you could barely register the words leaving her mouth, you blushed a deep red.

“You think you can take one more?” You didn’t know if she meant adding another finger or orgasm to the list, but you knew you couldn’t take either. So, you shook your head, hoping she’d finally listen and let you take a breather.

“Wrong answer, love.” She chuckled in response to your mewls. In reality, she knew you better than you knew yourself. She knew you could take it, so she continued. If you were to actually need her to stop, she would, but she knew you were too much of a dumb baby to think for yourself.

“I’m gonna need you to stay extra quiet for me now, alright? We don’t want to wake up my boys, now do we?” You shook your head which resulted in a small kiss to your temple, one that had you wanting more. If only she could just kiss your lips again, refuse to pull away until you were both breathless, that’s all you wanted.

She noticed your eyes repeating a glance between her face and her breasts that were practically screaming your name. A smirk took over her, her free hand resting beneath your neck as she eased you closer to her skin. Your lips instantly wrapped around the hardened bud as you suckled softly, moaning into her as she shuddered.

“That’s it, take all of Momma’s milk.” The change in her nickname was odd, but it only seemed to cause you to gush around her fingers even more. Your juices coated her digits the faster she moved, occasionally halting in her pace as she focused on the ache in her breasts that you were removing.

“Please, Momma..” Your hand went to her other breast as you toyed with it to your liking, enjoying the small gasps you received from her end one after the other.

“Yeah, honey? Do you- fuck-“ She cut herself off as she straddled your wobbly thigh, grinding her cunt against the soft skin as her clit throbbed.

“Do you need to cum?” She finished, ending in a nod coming from your end. She smiled breathlessly, biting her lip as a way to suppress the sweet moans pooling from beneath her lips.

“Why don’t you cum with Mommy, it would make her so happy.” Only a few moments later your orgasm came rushing through you, Wanda joining you quickly after as she painted your leg with her slick. She admired the mess she made before gathering her juices and shoving her coated fingers in your mouth. You accepted happily, still using your hands on her swollen nipples that begged for your call.

“T-thank you-“

“Shh,” She cut you off. “Go to sleep, princess, Momma’s right here.”

You jolted awake with flushed cheeks, your head turning both ways as you searched for the older woman. You sighed, realizing it was just yet another dream that resulted in you touching the same spot you imagined the woman touching.

You went downstairs to grab a drink of water, your panties soaked and tank top loose on your skin, causing your nipples to become slightly visible. You were oblivious to the woman smirking through the window aimed across from yours, slowly rubbing her clit in circles as she came to her second orgasm of the night.

Of course, she had been manipulating your dreams, how else would she get you to talk to her? You still haven’t, but she knew you were the one with fingers stuffed deep inside of you nearly every night, all while picturing it was her.

“Mom? We picked the book for bedtime story!” One of her sons knocked on the locked door, breaking Wanda out of her trance as she rushed to put on her clothing.

“I’ll be out in just a minute, honey!” She looked at her hands still covered with her slick, grinning as she imagined it was yours and took it in her mouth, moaning as it hit her tastebuds.

“Mommy can’t wait to taste you, Princess.”

#wanda maximoff x you #wanda maximoff fic #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff imagine #wanda maximoff smut #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff comfort #wanda maximoff imagines #wanda maximoff fanfiction #wanda maximoff x female reader #wanda maximoff x reader smut #wanda maximoff x gender neutral reader #wanda maximoff x y/n #wanda maximoff x reader angst #wanda maximoff x reader fluff #wanda maximoff x f!reader #wanda maximoff x fem!reader #scarlet witch angst #scarlet witch #scarlet witch x reader #scarlet witch x you

[norrisleclercf1]

Forever Mine

Pairing: Mafia!Charles x Reader

Rating: R

Words: 2.6K

Warnings: Charles gives us whiplash with his emotions, hinted of kidnapping, smut, nothing crazy descriptive, p in v, drugging, Charles thinks about killing so no one else can have you

Requested: Yes/No

Request: Could you do mafia Charles but he’s like obsessed with reader and maybe kidnaps her or mafia dark obsessed ex Charles who finally found her after reader ran from him?

Synopsis: You had no idea who your boyfriend is

A/N: I did not edit this because I’m exhausted and just didn’t feel like doing it

The buzzing on the nightstand has Charles smacking his phone. Grumbling in annoyance, he pats around for his phone; grabbing it, he squints at it.

3:12 am

"Qui que ce soit, il a intérêt à mourir." Charles snarls, hitting the green button, pressing the phone to his ear. (Whoever this is, better be dying)

Charles fully expects it to be one of his men, instead a sob rattles his chest as your voice fills the other end. "Can you please come and get me?" Words catching as you hiccup on a sob.

He doesn't think twice as he jumps out of bed, hissing as the stitches on his wound stretch and burn. Ripping up his pants he keeps his phone pressed between his ear and shoulder.

"Que s'est-il passé ? Quelqu'un vous a-t-il touché ? Je vais les jeter à la mer avec les autres." Charles hears sniffles, booming music, and people probably drunk laugh around you. (What happened? Did someone touch you? I'm going to throw them in the sea with the others)

"English, Charles." You whimper, yelping when a body crashes into you. He swears red filled his eyesight when he hears you whimper, rushing down the stairs. Ignoring the private doctor that just finished stitching him up. "I'm sorry Mon monde. Where are you?" Heading straight for his signature Ferrari.

"I don't know, some club." He tries very hard not to snap at you. How could you go out? Without telling him? You're crying, clearly terrified in his own fucking city. "Y/n, listen to me. What do you see, anything familiar?" Voice calm, but that deadly calm that'd seen grown men cry.

"Um, oh I see the port. Your yacht I can see it." Calming slightly as you move away from the club towards the comfort of something familiar. "Go there, some of my me-" He stops knowing that you know nothing about his life. "Some people I know and trust are there. I'll be there in 5 minutes." He hangs up.

"You're 20 minutes away." You whisper, staring at your phone confused. Now that you knew where you were, you stumble your way to the gorgeous yacht owned by your boyfriend. "Who are you?" A deep pissed off voice has you jumping, looking up at a giant man tattooed and buff.

"Charles, he said to come here and wait for him." You whisper, clutching your phone to your chest. "Listen, if you're one of his who-" He stops talking when a shrill ringing sounds. Grabbing his phone he answers it.

You watch as color drains from his face, eyes wide as he stares at you. "Yes sir, she's here. Yes, sir. I apologize sir." Hanging the phone up the guy clears his throat, sliding sideways. "Come in." Voice softer as he helps you step onto the deck.

No one talks to you, the sound of a roaring engine has the 3 men around your straighten up. "Where is she?" The accent is like ice filling your veins. He's furious. "She's on the deck with the others." The scary guy from earlier answers.

Thundering feet has you lifting your head, looking right at Charles. "What the fuck were you think?" Mouth open, Charles stops you. "No, you know what? You weren't fucking thinking! Do you have any idea the type of men or women that live here? What'd they do to you? DO YOU?" Curling in on yourself, vision blurs from the tears pooling.

He's never yelled at you like this. A harsh tone, a look, he refuses to even touch you without your permission. So, to have him snap like this has you....scared.

"You're scaring me." Hoarse, that's what your throat is after all the crying you've done. Something in Charles, breaks. You're the one person he's never wanted to scare you. And here he was, showing that one side he's never wanted to show.

Dropping to his knees, he gathers you in his arms. Body shaking, Charles whispers secret apologies, hands running all over your body. "I'm sorry, fuck. I'm so sorry." Nose burying in your neck, smelling the slight hints of sweat, his body wash, and alcohol.

"I didn't do anything wrong, why are you yelling at me." If that didn't sound like such a childish excuse, nothing will. To him you did something wrong, went into his city without telling him. "You scared me, do you know what type of people live here? They're not good people." He whispers, leaving the words I'm not good on his tongue.

Charles chose to leave you in the dark about his secret life. All you knew is that, he has money, people respect him, his name carries some type of power. You've questioned it once, Charles snapped and said for you to never ask him again.

It's a constant tension between you two.

"Come on, we're going home." An edge to his tone, trying to keep that shadow in him tied down. "Just take me to my place." Charles was scaring you more and more by the minute. This was not the man you love.

The sweet giggles, soft touches. How his voice warms you, treats you like his queen. This wasn't the man before, it's a shell of him.

"No, we're going to my place. End of discussion." He gathers you up, standing as he carries you off the boat. Face hidden in his chest, your heart thunders in your throat. You want to argue more, but your scared that it might set him off. "Okay."

Bright lights flash, a beep and you're placed in the black leather interior of his Ferrari. Clicking the door closed, he might as well slammed it with the echoing silence of the car. Even with how scared you are, you can't help but admire his beauty.

The way he slides into the car, his hair pushed in different directions. So enraptured with him, you miss the wincing he does as he sits in the car. Purring of the engine is the only sound between the two of you. It's like he's daring you to say the first words, to submit and explain what you were doing.

He wins.

"It was a friends party." White knuckling the steering wheel he remains quiet, leaving you to further explain. "It got out of hand, got scared. I called you. Should've called Pierre instead." The last end of the sentence a whisper.

Smoke and tires screech, flinging you forward a scream is ripped from your mouth. "What the fuck!" You gasp, chest hurting from the seatbelt that dug into your chest . "Call him." Whipping your head to the side, mouth open in shock.

"What?" Confused by his action. "Call him. You wanted Pierre more than your boyfriend. Call him, see if he's willing to come here and pick your ass up on the side of the road." His voice held no anger, nothing. Utterly emotionless.

"Charles, are you seriously kicking me out of your car?" This sobered you up quickly, the words sucking it right out of you. "I don't know, am I?" The fucker was challenging you, testing you almost.

"I'm drunk and tired, are you really going to holds my words against me?" Forcing yourself to look small. It's a reflex now. Whenever Charles got mad, your body reacted and would submit while your mouth raged to fight back.

His whole demeanor overpowered yours. A tiger and it's prey, the way his eyes bored into you. Waiting to pounce or see if you run.

"Yes, I will. Especially when the woman I fucking love, wishes she called my best friend than me." If you could, you'd slap the shit out of him. Charles is an enigma if you knew how he'd react you'd do it. He was constantly changing, new sides and reactions each time you did something. One thing never changed though.

His jealously.

It's a raging storm, once caught your never free. "Charles, take me home. Please." A soft beg, you just wanted to go home, didn't matter if it was his or yours. The engine purrs back to life, seats shaking softly as he pulls back into the road.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

"We're here." He startles you, it's the first thing he says to you after his little stunt on the road. You don't answer him, flinging the door open. Heels click on the pebbled pavement that leads to the front door.

How he owns a mansion in Monaco is beyond you, living in the outskirts of the city.

The door slams, rattling the car an Charles with it. "Putain de salope, tu devrais t'enchaîner dans la cave." The hiss of French makes your ears burn. He knew you didn't speak it, and here he was speaking it. "Fucking English, Charles! You know I don't understand!" You hollar slamming the front door open. (Fucking bitch, should chain you up in the basement.)

Unlocked. Why the hell is such a fancy house left unlocked without a care in the world. As quickly the thought comes it leaves, hands wrapping in your hair yanking you into a chest.

"Listen here," Charles voice deep, like thunder whispers in your ear. "I will speak the language I want. Now, stop being a fucking brat and go take a shower." His hand slips out, leaving a sting in your scalp that has you seething.

Stomping up the stairs, Charles storms to his office slamming the door. Heavy breaths pass his lips, trying to calm himself down not wanting to do something drastic.

"Sir?" 3 taps on the door has Charles gruffing out a 'come in'. The doctor from earlier steps in, asking how his wound is. Charles furious with you, forgot about opening his wound slightly opening when he rushed to your side.

"It's fine, get everyone out of the house. Now. I need to do something what I've been putting off." Nodding, the doctor slips out of the door. The soft taps of feet against the marble floor and echoing click of the door lets Charles know, everyone has left.

He makes his way through the empty, cold house following the sound of running water. He doesn't head straight to the bathroom, going to his liquor cabinet. Pouring himself some whiskey he sips on it, watching the outline of your body in the foggy mirror.

"Tu aimes faire croire que tu as le contrôle, je vais te prouver que tu as tort." Charles sighs moving to the bathroom, you knew he was here. The air growing stiff the feeling of eyes on your body let you know that Charles was the one watching you. (You like to act you're in control, how wrong I will be proving you)

"Can I join." It was meant to be a question, with him though he was going to join you wither you wanted him to or not. Sitting his glass down, he undresses not caring if you see his wound or not. A gush of cold air hits your back, pushing you further into the hot water.

Jumping when icy fingers touch you, they quickly remove themselves from your hip. "Fuck.....I've fucked up haven't I?" You hate the way his voice sounds so broken, even worse the way your heart aches hearing it. "Do you have any idea how worried I was? What it's like getting that call in the middle of the night? It terrified me." He whispers.

You hate yourself for turning around, for seeing the way his head is down. The utter disgust deep inside you for wrapping your arms around his neck pulling both your naked bodies close.

"Just kiss me." He wastes no time granting your wish, lips soft press against yours. Hands trailing over your back, fingers moving around your curves. His tongue gently prying your lips open, slipping past he doesn't speed anything up.

He takes his time, remembering every inch of your body. He knew after tonight you'd never remember him the same nor let him touch you. Tonight he was going to relish in this.

"Je t'aime." Air catches in his throat, hearing those soft french words pass your lips. Looking in your eyes, it's like your soul is ripped open showing him the love, trust, hopefulness. "Je t'aime." He repeats, nudging your legs open, stepping between them.

He takes your air, sinking into him your lips move across one another. This time it's not so soft, he's kissing you like it's the last time. Like he's a dying man gasping for air.

"Charles." You whimper feeling him rub against you, he can't help the smirk that grows against your lips. "What is it love?" Voice teasing as he thrusts his hips up forward again you drop your mouth open.

"Take me to bed." Hands move to your ass, lifting you up legs wrap around his waist as he lays kisses over your chest. "Always." Stepping out of the shower the two leaving a trail from the shower to the bed.

Giggling as Charles drops you on the bed, you finally take notice of the fresh wound. "What happened?" Body shrinking in on itself when your fingers ghost over the stitches. "Work injury, no need to worry. It'll heal." Covering your naked body with his, he nips at your breast.

"Mhgm." Unable to help the sound that passes your lips, as his lips warp around your tit the other being twisting and pulled between his pointer and forefinger. "I love you, you know that right?" A lick to your nipple as his eyes bore into yours.

"I know that." His fingers move under your knees lifting them up as he spreads them, making sure he doesn't hurt you. "Ready?" He asks, lining himself up, you nod. "Always." You repeat pulling a smile out of him.

Slowly he slides in, watching the way you swallow him. "Shit." You gasp, the way he stretches you always feel so damn good. Charles says nothing as he takes deep breaths through his nose you wrap your legs around his waist.

Moving his hips back and forth, he can't help but watch the way your face contorts with pleasure letting yourself go completely. How easy it'd be to just take the life out of you right here and now.

End his suffering, the end the constant terror gripping him that someone will take you from him. He refuses to let anyone else own you, to make you moan, see your body like this, anything. He'd kill you before anyone could have you.

"Charles, fuck right there." Biting your lip, Charles moves deeper keeping the same slow torturous pace as he angles his hips to hit that one spot that makes you see stars. "Right here? Hm?" Charles asks moving his hips faster which has you gapsing.

"Fuck yes, right there." Fingers digging into his back as you drag them down leaving your mark on him, it hates how he wants it to hurt to remind him of the pain he's going to be causing you.

The two of you lose yourself in each other chasing your own highs. "I...I'm fuck." Legs tighten on his waist locking him in as you come Charles pumping into you a couple more times before he shudders placing his weight on top of you.

"You'll love me forever, right?" Charles's question shocks you out of your euphoric high. "What?" You can't help the little giggle that escapes you. It dies fast when you see the harsh stare of your boyfriend.

"Of course, Charles." You sit up sliding out from under him. "You're the love of my life. I'm never leaving you." He nods, but hands move around reaching into his nightstand he nods. "I don't believe you." He whispers hand wrapping around what he was looking for.

"Charles, how could you say that? I love you, I will always lo-" Eyes widen feeling a little prick in your neck, Charles staring at you no emotion displayed. "You can say it all you want, but this is the only way. Only way I can keep you. You're either mine, or no one's." He whispers watching you fall back into the pillows.

"The only way, only way."

#f1 #formula 1 #f1 fandom #f1 x reader #f1 x y/n #f1 imagine #formula one #f1 scenario #mafia!charles leclerc #mafia!f1 #charles leclerc fic #charles leclerc angst #charles leclerc x reader #charles imagine #charles x reader #charles lecrelc #charles leclerc smut #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc x female reader #charles leclerc x y/n #f1 fanfic #f1 smut #f1 angst

[2kiran]

AAAAAA YOU WRITTE FOR VALORANT TOO!!!?!!?

OKAY OKAY, MAYBE LIKE, CHAMBER (or Yoru, idk) WITH A DOM MALE READER THAT WANTS TO TEACH THEM A LESSON ABOUT "RESPECT" BY FUCKING THEM SENSELESS!?!?

GRRR TY IF YOU DO

JUSTE LÀ —— v i n c e n t “ c h a m b e r ” f a b r o n

“My plan wasn’t smart?” You repeat his earlier statement, scoffing as the words taste bitter on your tongue. Vincent was in your lap, bent over, and reddened ass exposed to you. “You wanna repeat that to me?” He immediately shook his head, a sobbing hiccup rising from his throat. “‘M sorry, mon amour. I didn’t mean—”

Your hand lifts from his ass before it comes back down, “No, no, no. Repeat yourself.”

His face was pink and sweaty, tears building on his waterline. A sharp gasp left his mouth at the impact. He shook his head, silently refusing. He rocked his hips to try to find relief, cock weeping from the lack of attention. “Fucking brat,” You sighed, tone of disappointment. “Do you ever listen to me?” Your free hand grabs his hair, watching his back arch. “I’m—” You land another smack, and another, and another, until tears freely streamed down his face and the look in his eyes were dazed. You yank him back to rest against your front. Kissing his cheek, you murmured apologies for the uncomfortable sting of pain.

“Shhh...” You quickly shush him, thumbs rubbing at his sides to calm him down. His cock twitches when he hears the clink of your belt. One of your hands unzipped your pants, pulling them down with your boxers. He raises his hips in permission, hole wet with your spit and lube. He begins to slide down on your cock, taking it inch by inch. His brows were furrowed in concentration, focusing on not cumming as you stretched his insides so well. “Please...” He whined, apologetically and filled with guilt.

“You just need me to teach you some manners, huh, baby?” He nods quickly in response. Your hand slides under his thigh, lifting it to give you room to move your hips. He wanted to cry harder, thinking that you’re pulling out, no longer wanting to — “Fuck!” He groaned, hole clenching as your thrust felt like you were sending a spark up his spine.

Vincent whimpered your name, his brain numbing by the second. You roll one of his nipples in between your fingers, pulling at it enough to have him sob weakly. “M–mon amour, ah, je suis désolé. S'il te plaît. Juste là— J'ai besoin de toi juste là.” he muttered under his breath, meeting your thrusts when you purposely miss his prostate. Hips trembling as he tries to keep up with your punishing pace. ( t. my love, i'm sorry. please. right there— need you right there.)

“Yeah? Here?” you grind inside of him, a whine slipping past his lips, “You gon’ respect my ideas this time, hmm?” he nods his head rapidly, “Y–yes, ‘m sorry. Didn’t mean to — nngh — insult you like that, mon cœur.” ( my heart ) you angle your hips, hitting that spot inside of him the way he desired. He let out a choked moan, a sudden tear falling. His features were contorted in pleasure, brows drew closer, and a few strands of his hair out-of-place.

If only the other agents knew how Vincent was so easy to break on your cock.

masterlist

#— azrael.worksᵎᵎ #valorant #vincent fabron #valorant chamber #dom male reader #top male reader #dom reader #top reader #male reader #dom!reader #top!reader #male!reader #x male reader #x dom male reader #x dom reader #x top male reader #x male top reader #x male smut #sub character #chamber valorant #chamber x reader #valorant x reader #valorant x you #chamber smut #valorant smut #valorant fanfiction

[rashomonss]

A HUMANS WRATH

Part XV

previous part

taglist: @miridiums-writing, @zerchila, @aeongiies, @xmoogx, @coffeeandtealol, @food-lover9000, @l0diluvs, @vichsy, @valeriele3, @entolomaeden, @acaribeau, @arcayia, @jessiegerl, @capricorn-anon, @crescentworld, @g-l-1-t-c-h-3-r, @chumbinhoeba, @chaos-n-kindness, @strawberryfire17, @zenxvii, @misscaller06, @luminarysol, @simpinginthecorner, @your-next-daydream, @bontensbabygirl, @crxwned-mxnarch, @ibtisam-aran, @mochicurls21, @rxsehxney, @xpixie, @ihatecorns, @hello-gloomy, @lunarloathsome, @crazytacokoala, @levia-chan, @bunny-masks-blog

a/n: hey y'all!! yay i finally updated haha….im so sorry it took so long if you’ve been keeping up with my other posts you’ll know that february was not good to me haha

also i wanted to let y’all know that we’re finally reaching the end of this story!! i plan on only making a few more chapters then i believe that’ll be all!

lastly thanks for all y’all’s patience and continued support I love reading every one of y’all’s comments and theories, it means the world! love y'all ♡

warnings: violence, fighting, angst

express just how you feel, don’t bottle it up anymore

“MC how are you? Even though I previously saw you everyday I’ve missed this you” Diavolo said with a bright smile as you joined him for breakfast. No thanks to Barbatos’ constant pestering.

You gave him a polite smile and nod as a response. It was easy enough to come up with a basic answer that you were fine, even if that wasn’t the case at all.

However as he ranted on about missing you and what activities he’d enjoy doing with you after he finished his paperwork you couldn’t help but feel nauseous.

After all he dislocated your shoulder the other day and now he was acting as if everything was perfectly fine?

Even if it was another version of him it was still him in a sense, which filled you with unease. If that version of him could do something that significant to you without so much as a thought then you had every right to be worried.

Is this how the other version of you felt?

Is that why they hated being touched by any demons?

Another hearty laugh broke out sending a chill down your spine. It reminded you of when he cornered you in the hallway as you tried to escape.

“MC are you sure you’re feeling okay? You look a little pale?”

You went to nod but your body betrayed you. A new wave of nausea washed over you and you felt bile rise up in your throat.

“MC…?” Barbatos questioned as he moved closer to you when you ignored Diavolo’s question.

Your fingers gripped the soft tablecloth as you tried to ground yourself. If anything you refused to lose your stomach in front of them.

Both demons looked at each other worryingly and Barbatos went to place a hand on your shoulder for comfort. Immediately you jolted in response and slapped his hand away as a sensation of fear became present in the pit of your stomach.

You had no idea where it came from, much less why you were scared when the butler reached out to help you. But you did know one thing, you didn’t want anyone touching you.

“Don’t touch me!” you yelled.

Your tone of voice startled him and Diavolo but mainly you as well. What was going on with you?

You never acted like this before, even when staying in the other timeline for so long. So why now? Why was everything anyone was doing so triggering you in any sort of way?

“I apologize…I didn't mean to upset you, I only wanted to check if you were okay,” Barbatos replied as he backed off. Even though he didn’t bother showing it, he was clearly worried about your current mental state. It appeared to be out of control ever since you returned. Which was another point he’d have to bring up with him later, since many instructions weren’t followed.

“…I’m…heading back to bed” you replied as you swiftly stood up and made your way to the door.

“But…you just woke up” Diavolo said softly but you were well out of range for his voice to actually reach you.

With a sigh the butler looked to his lord then to the floor. Maybe they weren’t the right demons to welcome you back after being gone for such a decent amount of time. It was better if you were around demons you were used to, ones that were comforting.

So he picked up his D.D.D and quickly called the first demon that came to mind.

___

Seven bodies rushed towards you faster than you could process and some large beautiful roses were shoved in your face as you tried to process everything that was going on.

All seven of your demons began talking at once and exclaimed how much they had missed you.

“Oh MC! I can’t believe you’re back, I’ve missed you so so so terribly” Asmo cried as he clung onto your shoulder.

“Hey let go of them!” Mammon yelled in your ear as he tried yanking you away from Asmo.

“Stop pushing” Belphie groaned as he hugged your frame from behind.

“Mammon stop yelling so loudly” Levi shouted out as he was hugging you from the same side Asmo was.

The other three demons who weren’t suffocating you were also arguing with their brother as they clung onto you. Yelling and shouting could be heard from all around you as you stayed in place watching all seven of them yell back and forth like children.

It was too overwhelming. The yelling in your ear, the way one would hold you tighter if they got mad, the way four of them were putting all of their body weight on you was too much for your liking. And the fact the other three were aggravating the four who were holding onto you.

You felt so suffocated.

You were suffocated in your own timeline due to your willingness to indulge all of the seven demons you lived with.

You were suffocated in the other timeline because you decided to show some demons some kindness they hadn’t experienced for a very long time. Look where that got you. A dislocated shoulder and some unresolved issues that you refused to acknowledge.

You were suffocated with the prince and his butler. They always were on some type of schedule, and when you didn’t follow what Diavolo wanted at that very second, you would never hear the end of it from Barbatos.

Why was everyone so demanding?

God forbid you do something for yourself for once.

You struggled in their grip and tried to get their attention to possibly settle down. The constant loud yelling was getting you more agitated by the minute and frankly you were getting a headache.

Just as you were about to speak someone yelled over you and a fight between two of them broke out. Since you were absolutely fed up with it you shouted for all of them to shut up and pushed them off of you.

Each of the seven demons shut their mouth in an instant and the prince and butler looked at you with a worried expression. Due to that being the same tone of voice you used with Barbatos earlier he knew that something was obviously wrong.

Diavolo then spoke up for you as he walked over to the brothers. “Don’t mind them, a lot is on their mind right now especially since they’ve dealt with so much physically and emotionally these past couple days. So please give MC some space to relax”

You in turn shot him a glare. “I’m perfectly fine. However I don’t appreciate it when someone is screaming in my ear and putting all their weight on me while others are fighting in the background like children”

“How about you head back to the House of Lamentation. A lot is on your mind MC, it would do you good to go rest in a place you’re comfortable and familiar with” Barbatos then added trying his best to ease the tension in the room and change the topic as well.

With a nod you departed with the brothers about fifteen minutes later for a silent trip to the House of Lamentation. Each of them were too worried to bother you so they all left you to do your own thing when you all got home.

However Mammon was still going to try to comfort you in his own way.

“Hey MC, ya wanna hang out and watch a movie? I got a few in my room and we can relax” he asked with a soft smile as she walked up behind you.

“Thanks but I’d rather rest right now, maybe later” and before he could even finish you were off.

It was odd, during any other time you would’ve enjoyed hanging out and relaxing in his room like you used to but as of now you really wanted to just be by yourself.

So quietly you made your way to your room and when you opened the door you were absolutely applauded by the way it looked.

Everything was everywhere and the decorations you had of you and your demons were ripped and taken down. Clean clothes were piled onto a chair and your bed was an absolute mess as a few shits and things littered the floor.

However you were too tired to take care of it at the moment. Due to how emotional exhausted you were a nap sounded lovey so you plopped down and in minutes you were out.

___

Around late afternoon you had walked into the kitchen to grab a snack since you didn’t exactly have much of an appetite after everything that had happened in the past two days. Surprisingly enough two demons were already occupying the kitchen when you arrived, one gossiped and the other listened even though he was believably bored.

“MC” Satan said with a smile, he was very grateful that someone showed up to stop Asmo’s rambling.

With a nod you dug through the fridge and grabbed something to eat and walked over to the two hesitantly.

“What are you both talking about?” You asked after they stayed silent and smiled at you.

Amso was the first to perk up and tell you. “Well we were just talking about some new gossip about this one actor and her husband, some people we know and you…well the other you”

“The other me?” You asked

“Yeah the one you switched with remember.” Satan added.

You nodded and then looked at them before responding. Just how did the other version of you act? Were they like the other Barbatos said? Angry, stubborn, and everything. Did they treat your demons like how they’d treated theirs? So many questions ran through your head at once, but you opted for only asking a basic one.

“So just how was the other version of me?”

“They were a bit intense at first…no I take it back they were really intense at first, but in reality they only wanted one thing in the end then they finally were content” Asmo said as he reapplied some lipstick to his lips.

“Really what did they want?” You asked, now interested in the other versions' motives.

“They just wanted an apology. After Belphie gave them an honest heart to heart in the planetarium they finally calmed down and we were able to be civil with them” Asmo explained.

“Yeah and they even started opening up a bit, although they were exactly like you so learning about what they liked was cute since we already know what you enjoy” Satan added with a smirk.

You tuned out the rest of the conversation they were having with you as you focused on the said “apology” Belphie gave the other version of you.

So it was true and they weren’t lying when they talked to you previously in the attic. Somehow that ticked you off even more.

“Oh yeah and we’re so sorry you had to go through all that crazy timeline stuff dear, I bet it’s been so exhausting huh?” Asmo asked as he rubbed your back.

“Uh huh” you replied and then brushed him off as you excused yourself out of the kitchen without another word, causing the two demons to look at you with a slightly confused expression.

Silently you paced around the house for a bit as you rethought about what the two of them said. With a sigh you ventured into the common room and stared at the fireplace. So you were worth a basic sorry but not one that took responsibility for all the damage they caused you?

It’s not as if their words actually meant anything. Honestly if they had been keen on sweeping the whole incident under the rug then why even offer the other version of you an apology?

They did it to better help them heal?

Bullshit.

What about you?

How come they could do that for anyone else other than you?

When you’ve helped them so much.

Your rage and jealousy had been bubbling up inside you for so long that it finally reached its breaking point.

If anyone was supposed to receive any words or actions of their forgiveness it should’ve been you and you were tired of pretending you didn’t deserve anything less than that.

In a rage you trashed the common room as Asmo and Satan watched in horror since they just happened to walk by.

They rushed to try and stop you but you used your pact to stop them in place as you broke everything in sight. The sound of yelling and glass breaking alerted all the other demons in the house and soon the rest of them watched in awe as you demolished anything in your path.

Mammon ran to you as you ripped the roses they all bought for you and tore them to shreds right in front of them. When he reached you he grabbed you by the arm and you shoved him away and yelled at him in response.

They all just kept getting in your way, it was so unbearable.

As the six demons froze in place due to their activated pacts you picked up one of the large vases Lucifer loved and proceeded to lift it up to throw at them.

“This is all your fault! Look at what you’ve done to me” you screamed out to the six demons standing in front of you. Your cry was not one of just anger, they could sense the sorrow in your voice. The way it cracked and longed to just be healed.

You wanted someone to comfort you and the ability for someone, anyone honestly to just acknowledge what had happened to you. Maybe then if they did you could finally feel like your feelings were valid, rather than unnecessary and pointless.

Fresh tears fueled by pure anger and frustration fell from your eyes as you got ready to swing the vase at the six of them. That was until the youngest brother rushed in front of his brothers and spoke.

“This is my fault MC, please don’t take it out on my brothers” Belphie said as he stepped in front of the six of them, shielding them with his body.

“No it’s not just your fault. It’s all of your faults. Don’t feel too special Belphie, you're not the only one out of your brothers who has tried to kill me.” you spat out.

“Each of you have threatened to end my life at least once ever since I’ve been here, and believe me I haven’t forgotten a single moment of it. Unlike before I continued to ignore what happened just like all of you but I’m fed up now.”

The seven demons looked at themselves then back at you and sighed.

“MC we’re truly sorry, you know we-“ Lucifer began.

“I don’t want your apology. It means nothing to me anymore. Especially since you can go and hand it out to whoever now” you replied swiftly, cutting him off in the process.

“Then if I truly can’t make you believe me I’ll show you.” Belphie then said quickly.

“And how do you expect to do that?” You asked, crossing your arms in front of your body.

“Take it out on me.”

“Excuse me?”

“All of your anger, everything you’ve had building up. Punch me, hit me, choke me, do whatever you need to do so that you don’t have to feel this way. I know my apology means nothing to you, and believe me this is much more selfish of me to ask you to do this but I want to make it up to you MC. Even if you’ll hate me for the rest of your life I want you to get the closure you deserve. I’ll do whatever I can to make it up to you. For as long as I live”

Your eyes widened slightly as you looked at him in shock. You hadn’t expected him to actually respond like that, much less take responsibility for everything that had happened.

“Belphie-!” Beel began, he was still standing back with the others, but the worried look on his face was apparent as he watched his twin pour his heart out to the person they both cherished.

Belphie shook his head at his twin then looked back towards you. “I promise MC, I’ll show you how much of a better demon I can be. So go ahead”

The six demons behind you watched as you slowly approached the youngest hesitantly. Surprisingly enough he still had the same soft smile on his face as he watched you come closer.

Then you swung.

With a swift punch to the face, right on the nose Belphie stumbled back and grabbed his face as a small drop of blood pooled out.

You swung again.

And again,

And again.

As you watched the youngest fall to the floor you continued. And for some odd reason you didn’t feel bad about how beat up he was beginning to look.

Instead you finally felt a form of closure for the first time.

#obey me #obey me shall we date #omswd #obey me angst #demon brothers #obey me luficer #obey me mammon #obey me levithan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me diavolo #obey me barbatos

[sea-you-in-paradise]

☽ ⛧  a r m i n   a r l e r t ‘ s   s l e e p i n g   h a b i t s   ⛧ ☾  | NSFW ADDITION

summary - armin’s nsfw bedtime/morning endeavors

word count - 776

setting - canonverse implied, but can be applicable to modern au

features - armin :)))

genderneutral!reader (implied established relationship)

warnings - NSFW (content specifications below the cut)

!MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!

note - here’s a link to his sfw sleeping habits :)

content warnings: (consensual) somnophilia, edging, maybe dacryphilia??, oral sex, slight manipulation, thigh fucking

-------------------

- armin doesn’t suffer from insomnia, simply because by the time he goes to bed, he is already practically sleepwalking, but sometimes he likes to go the extra mile to tire himself out and purposefully overexert himself fucking you

- if he still has a lot of energy, he likes to hit it from behind. the combination of his hips frantically slamming against your ass and the sound of both of your intermingled moans (which seem to slip out much louder after any exhausting day) is like his own personal nightcap. his harsh pace is always a stark contrast to the soft circles his thumbs draw on your hips, though his grip on them gets increasingly bruising as he approaches his climax

- if he’s already feeling pretty spent going into things, he likes it when you edge him. he wants to close his eyes, but he just can’t when you’re so close to letting him cum. that’s how you get him. every. time. keeping him on the precipice of bliss until he is a whiny mess, his tears glistening in the candlelight. both his orgasm and his sleep will be fucking fantastic when you’re done with him

- nights when these happen back to back are really fun

-------------------

- in the mornings when armin doesn’t want to get up, but knows he has a little time, he will do anything to keep you in bed. it might start as some innocent cuddles, sometimes that’s all it is, but sometimes it’s not

- a sweet morning kiss turns into a very heated morning kiss which leads to him interlocking your fingers and trailing kisses down your neck, and then your chest, and your stomach, and your thighs, until he gets to exactly where he made you need him

- he doesn’t really seem so tired when he’s eagerly watching you squirm and lace your fingers in his disheveled hair

- if you don’t get quite that far tho and you leave him hanging after just a few kisses, morning armin in all of his unfiltered glory will be so fucking frustrated. not only are you going to tell him to get out of his warm bed with his pretty partner, but you also got him all worked up?! armin would look at you with his foe puppy dog eyes and say “did i do something wrong?” knowing damn well you just don’t want him to be late. of course, if you explain this, he’ll just groan and blame it on you, even though he’s the one who started things. “but i can be quick, i promise! it’s not like i can stop myself from getting hard when you touch me like that!”

- he will definitely apologize for this profusely later.. but he’ll probably do it again the following week

-------------------

- if armin wakes up before you, half the time it’s bc of his own neediness

- at the beginning of your relationship, he found this to be quite an issue because he felt too guilty to take care of the problem himself when you were sleeping right there, but he refused to leave the comfort of bed despite his horniness. so, he opted to lie there in a state of torture, positioning himself as far from you as possible until you woke up

- of course, when you actually talked about the situation, armin was both delighted and surprised to hear that you were more than fine with him touching himself beside you while you sleep. not only that, but you didn’t mind if he touched you too, so long as he didn’t actually enter you... at least, not yet

- the first time armin stroked his cock while lying no more than six inches from your sleeping form, he was careful not to be too loud despite the arousal coursing through his veins. now, he’s a lot more careless, but equally aroused

- when armin wakes up especially horny, he is desperate to fuck your thighs. he’ll nuzzle into you from behind, head tucked in a way that lets him smell your hair, and softly begin moving his hips, increasingly his rhythm until he’s biting his lip to keep from moaning right into your ear. if you start to wake up, he’s sorry, but he isn’t stopping, not unless you tell him to. he also figures that once you’re stirring, you’re basically awake, so he gets a lot sloppier with his movements and a bit more vocal. if you start giving him reactions, he’ll kiss your shoulder and stimulate you too until your first words of the day are moans of his name

#armin arlert x reader #armin arlert headcanons #armin arlet x reader #armin arlert #armin arlet #armin x reader #armin smut

[loveandleases]

last but not least our dilf Ardent! alphabet, please!

Exactly right, last and certainly not least. Below the cut ~

Cam ABC

G ABC

Kara ABC

M ABC

Isaac ABC

A = Aftercare - He is way too caring afterward. He will act like he doesn't care at all while refusing to let MC get up so he can clean them up. He won't say too much, if he sees he was too rough with MC you will hear him audibly tsk. Then he ensures those spots get extra care.

B = Body part  - His Adonis belt! Aka the v. If you have seen his Pinterest board you know exactly what I mean. Ardent keeps himself in shape and is proud of that part of his body. His favorite part of his partner is their ass. He loves to smack it, touch it, fuc-, anyways thats what he likes.

C = Cum - Absolutely refuses to fuck his partner until he gets them to cum at least once. If they are up for it afterward if he, if not it's all good. He got exactly what he wanted.

D = Dirty Secret - Lost his virginity to his father's secretary, in his office, and on his desk.

E = Experience  He is probably the most experienced out of the RO's. Though much have that experience was in his early 20's.

F = Favourite Position - Our dilf has several positions he loves. One of them is doggy style, the other butter churner. If his partner is willing, I'm sure he can find even more to add to the list.

G = Goofy - He will be a pain in the ass, and I mean figuratively. Teasing MC, getting them to beg to give them what they want.

H = Hair - Dark brown patch that is trimmed short.

I = Intimacy - Listen he can be romantic, he can be absolutely affectionate. Just don't let him know that you know it. If Ardent knows he is much softer than he lets on he will pretend to be such a bigger ass than he already is.

J = Jack Off - If he is in the mood he makes sure to masturbate when he can, knowing his luck someone will be knocking on his door, maybe even a new neighbor.

K = Kink - Totally into cockwarming. The idea of being slid inside his partner just to keep warm just makes this man even more of a horny mess. Also oral~

L = Location - Anywhere is good with him. His apartment, the elevator, even the hall.

M = Motivation - A nice butt, easily turns him on. Someone who talks back to him, won't take his attitude.

N = NO - Absolutely not pegging him.

O = Oral - Ardent Pine, is very good at oral. Absolutely loves giving it. The amount of effort he puts in until his partner is satisfied is honestly commendable.

P = Pace - Fast and rough or slow and sensual, or slow and rough. He has no specific pace. Ardent does what he thinks will satisfy his partner, or break them in the best way.

Q = Quickie - He is down for one, though it won't satisfy him nearly enough. So be sure to be ready for round 2, or 3.

R = Risk - Sometimes, it depends on his mood.

S = Stamina Easily 4. Sometimes 5.

T = Toy - He owns none, his hand is enough to wreck his partner.

U = Unfair - Way too much, an unbearable amount. Apologies in advance!

V = Volume - He can be loud, and he doesn't care that he is. He grunts a lot, groans. Most likely telling his partner to cum for him.

W = Wild Card - It's not uncommon for Ardent to answer the door while half-dressed and turned on. His jeans will not hide his bulge at all.

X = X-Ray - Ardent's 🍆 is 9.1 inch. Nice and thick.

Y = Yearning - Very high sex drive. Likely tied with Cam's.

Z = ZZZ - 10/15 minutes after, easily. He gets tired, he has a busy day in the morning. Forgive him!

#loveandleases #love and leases #ardent #alphabet #ns-fw #6:09 #prime time

[guillotine-of-the-snake]

Derrinall Evramont

B A S I C S

Name: Derrinall Evramont

Nicknames: N/A

Age: Technically 33

Nameday: 9th Sun of the 1st Astral Moon

Race: Duskwight Elezen

Gender: Male

Orientation: Pansexual

Profession: House Amelune Knight Captain

P H Y S I C A L     A S P E C T S

Hair: Short, well kept black hair

Eyes: Light emerald eyes

Skin: Pale skin that fluctuates between fair and grey in certain lighting

Tattoos/scars: A variety of scars across his entire body, one most prominently across his face.

F A M I L Y

Parents: Names lost to time, dying soon after he was born

Siblings: Grew up an only child

Grandparents: Dead long before he was born

In-laws and Other: Has found a new family with his partners Yein and Nolanel, along with their adopted Fae daughter Dinky Dinky

Pets: None he would call pets, but he does care for the birds around Yein's home

S K I L L S

Abilities: Swordplay and formal knight training as well as skills inherited from a DRK Soul Crystal he found on a corpse.

Hobbies: Playing the harp, wood carving, training House Amelune's knights

T R A I T S

Most Positive Trait: Deeply loyal and trusting of those he holds in high regard

Most Negative Trait: Views himself as a tool or weapon more than he does a person

L I K E S

Colors: Purples, Whites, and Blacks

Smells: Cigar smoke, lavender, the crisp and cold air of Ishgard

Textures: Cold metal, warm skin, strings of his harp, rough grain of wood

Drinks: Dry red wines, the teas Yein makes

O T H E R    D E T A I L S

Smokes: Smokes cigars at formal events and cigarettes on a more regular basis

Drinks: Lightly drinks throughout the week, but during large events or more serious matters he refuses.

Drugs: Only partakes in their use alongside his partners.

Mount Issuance: Was given the option to have a chocobo granted to him by Lady Amelune but he declined.

Been Arrested: Never since being resurrected, but back in the times of Gelmorra he was arrested for stealing food during his time as an orphan.

Tagged by: @iron-sparrow

Tagging: @the-white-snake, @qara-wen, @dinky-dinky, @captain-styr and anyone else who reads this that wants to take a crack at it.

No pressure for anyone to respond and I apologize if you already got tagged for this.

#tag game #ffxiv oc #ffxiv rp #duskwight #elezen #derrinall evramont #still working out all the finer details of Derri's lore so this was really helpful

[lightlyblooming]

A Mistake

Part Two

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Female Reader

Summary: Natasha makes a mistake by divorcing her wife and later, makes another mistake by blowing up a building that she was in.

Words: 3.1k

Request: hi! my first request was AMAZING. and im back for more really angsty natasha x fem!reader fics. basically r and nat's in an established relationship but they break up and r leaves the country. flash forward few years, nat still loves r but has no contact with her at all or no location idea whatsoever. then she is sent on a mission where she inevitably needs to bomb a building with civilians inside as collateral damage. when she looks at the bodies, she is horrified to discover one of the civilians is r. i need a good cry and i know you can do it! thank you! heres a cookie btw 🍪

A/N: Thank you for requesting, and thank you for getting me to write angst again. I forgot how much I enjoyed it. This was so fun to write.

Warnings: Death, divorce

When Natasha placed the divorce papers in front of you, you had thought it was a joke.

You laughed forcefully and smiled, doubt and disbelief swirling in your stomach. She would never do that to you. She would never just divorce you. She would never play this sick of a prank. Yet, when you looked up at her, trying to find reassurance that it was all some misplaced humor, there was none.

Her expression was blank, emotionless, professional. No matter how hard you looked, you couldn’t find even a trace of her usual warmth and levity. You couldn’t understand. You refused to understand.

“Nat,” you said, the forced laugh lacing your words. “You’re joking.”

You hoped, you prayed, that her harsh exterior would crack and she would smile. That she would apologize for her lapse in judgment.

She didn’t. She merely kept silent.

“Nat,” you said, the laughter leaving you.

“Natasha,” you begged, the hope turning to ash on your tongue. You pushed to your feet, rising from the dining table you had set for the both of you. “Please, Natasha. No.”

Tears stung your eyes and sickness blossomed in your stomach. You reached out to her, but she stepped away. A broken gasp came out of your throat, followed by tears.

Finally, she spoke, but it wasn’t the kind words you craved. “Our marriage is over. You have two weeks to move out. I’ll help you pack. I’ll help you find somewhere to live and pay your rent for three months so you have time to get a job.”

“Natasha,” you said, unable to find any other words to explain the gaping hole that had been wrenched open in your chest. “I—, Nat, love, please.”

She merely looked at you with her devastatingly emotionless eyes. There wasn’t a single tear or shred of any emotion. No sadness, no pain, no regret. Not even any joy or excitement or relief at serving the divorce papers.

“Choose a lawyer and I’ll pay their fees, whatever that is.” The ease and calmness that she spoke with made your heart shatter, worsening the nausea in your gut and the gaping hole in your chest.

“Why?” You could barely get the words out through your tears.

Natasha took in a deep breath and said, in a heartbreakingly even tone, “I’m in love with someone else. My secretary. A few weeks after we started sleeping together I tried to leave her, to mend our relationship, to find love for you again, but the longer the affair went on the more I realized just how little is between us anymore. She makes me feel things that you never had.”

You could hardly breathe. You could hardly comprehend the words that had come out of her mouth. Your knees went weak and you collapsed to the floor, a scream ripping out of you as your tears flowed freely from your eyes.

You screamed and begged Natasha through your sobs. You begged her to stay. You begged her to say that it was a joke. You promised that if she were just to say sorry you would forget all about the affair and the divorce papers. That you would go back to normal and turn a blind eye to everything. Yet she said nothing. She didn’t so much as react to your pain. She only turned and walked out of the dining room, the sound of her high-heels echoing through the halls of your house.

You cried for the rest of the night, first on the dining room floor, then as you threw out the food you had so lovingly made, and as you shoved the flowers you had driven two hours to get into the bottom of the garbage.

You sat outside the locked door of Natasha’s office until four in the morning, silent tears streaming down your cheeks, speaking quiet pleas over and over and over again. You tried to reason with her, bargain with her. You told her that you would forgive her. You said that you would work even harder to be a good wife.

Nothing worked. She didn’t so much as make a noise.

The next morning, Natasha was gone with a text stating that she would stay at a hotel until you were out of the house. So, with tears in your eyes, you packed.

You called her every half-hour to no answer. You took every bit of clothes and jewelry and personal items that you could fit in your many suitcases. You even took some of Natasha’s items. Things she never really touched, like very floral perfumes she had bought on a whim, watches that her business partners had gifted her, earrings and necklaces that sat at the bottom of her jewelry box.

That night, you stayed at a luxury hotel that cost far too much, paid with Natasha’s credit card.

As soon as the divorce was settled and you were given a very comfortable amount of money and assets, you moved across seas to Europe, cutting all ties with Natasha. You even changed your first and last name to something Natasha would never recognize. You got a job and a house and restarted your life. However, nothing would be able to fill the chasm that Natasha had left.

⧗

Natasha regretted the divorce the moment she placed the papers in front of you and watched the way you crumbled.

She never wanted to divorce you. She never wanted to hurt you or end your relationship, but she had no choice. Her work for SHIELD was getting too dangerous. Her missions were getting longer from lasting just a weekend or ten days to demanding two to three weeks of her life. She barely had time for you anymore and soon enough, you would start to ask questions. You were too smart to blindly believe that her business trips took three weeks out of the month without suspecting that something was wrong.

Natasha thought that getting a divorce would be the best way to save you from future pain, to settle the situation without having to divulge that she was a spy for a secret agency, but when she told you, she knew it would be anything but easy.

She told you that she’d had an affair, even though that was a blatant lie. She never, ever, would’ve done that to you. She would never even think about it, but it was a quick explanation as to why she wanted to get a divorce. It was reason enough for her to disappear after the divorce was settled.

When you collapsed at her feet, her heart broke. The tears that she had struggled so much to keep in broke free.

She wanted to pull you into her arms and hold you, soothe you, tell you that she didn’t actually want a divorce, that she had never cheated, and that she loved you more than anything else. But she couldn’t. She had to survive. There was no other option.

There was no room in her life for love and marriage. She had tried so hard to make it work, but she should have known better. No Widow was meant to be happy and she was a fool for thinking that she was an exception.

She walked away and locked herself in her office, trying to drown herself in a book so that she didn’t hear your cries. When you came to her office door, she realized that would be a fruitless effort. She couldn’t do anything other than sit there as she heard your quiet pleas. Pleas that she couldn’t respond to no matter how much she ached to.

She wanted nothing more than to step out of her office and make everything better, to stop those tears and that pain, and make you smile once more. But she couldn’t. Not if she wanted to live. Not if she wanted you to live a life free of being weighed down by the burdens of international security.

Natasha held her place, even if that meant she cried all night. Even if she lost the love of her life.

When you finally went to sleep in the early hours of the morning, Natasha left the house, not caring about how she didn’t have any clothes to change into. She just didn’t think she would be able to exist in the same house as you any longer. It held too much memories of love and happiness. Love and happiness that she had single-handedly torn to the ground. She didn’t want to be around you and watch you be in pain when she knew there was nothing she could do to make you feel better.

Natasha settled the divorce as fast and as easily as she could, giving you far more than her lawyer had suggested or had even condoned. She even gave you the house and everything in it, which you had sold not even a week after getting it. She couldn’t blame you. She didn’t want to live in a home full of shattered love either.

She went on with her life the best she could. She distracted herself with work, constantly reminding herself that she was a Widow and that she didn’t have the luxury to love, especially to love you.

In time, her heart mended. She was able to go most days without thinking of you, though you still crept into her thoughts when everything was quiet and there was nothing to distract herself with. Even then, all she felt was a little pang of pain. She knew there was no getting you back, so there was no reason to hope. No reason to miss you.

She refused to do any research on where you had gone after the divorce. She refused to do even a simple google search to see if you had any social media. She was better off believing that you had moved to a quiet town in rural America where you were living your best life, happy and successful. Natasha didn’t acknowledge any other possible outcomes. She refused to think of you in pain.

When she was on particularly boring missions, she liked to imagine the life you were living. The current life she had come up with was the picture of suburban bliss: Married with two beautiful children. A mutt of a dog and cat that thought it ruled the world. A home full of love and safety, painstakingly decorated to ensure every little piece reflected the warmth that lived there. Hectic mornings of hastily-made pancakes and nights full of cuddles on the couch and games in the backyard.

She wanted to lose herself in the idea that you were happy, but she had to keep present. She had to stay focused on the mansion in the heart of Paris that she had been monitoring for the last month.

The owner of the mansion was a rogue operative of SHIELD. He had defected nearly eight months ago, practically disappearing from all forms of surveillance, and Natasha was charged to hunt him down kill him to make sure nothing got out. He was clearly a huge threat if she had been assigned to dispatch him. SHIELD didn’t let her out for just any mission.

Though even with how good Natasha was, she couldn’t track him. The only piece of evidence she could find on him was that he owned a mansion in Paris that functioned as a small district office for a large corporation. She just had to have patience and hope that he would drop by.

She felt horrible about her inability to track him, but she reminded herself that she was up against a very skilled spy. Her failure wasn’t because of her lack of skill, but because of his elevated abilities. After all, she wouldn’t be on the mission if he wasn’t good.

When he ended up showing up, she couldn’t go in to kill him the simple old-fashioned way with knives and guns. There were too many people, too many eyes. She couldn’t risk getting spotted and him getting away. Nor could she risk the existence of SHIELD getting out, so she had to go with something that would ensure he, and any witnesses, wouldn’t get away: blowing up the building.

It was a simple enough plan. She had sneaked into the building nearly two weeks ago to place the explosives and had been waiting for a sign that he was there.

The two weeks of waiting passed by very slowly. There wasn’t much to see. Only a few select people worked in the building, and there wasn’t much foot traffic on the small street. So Natasha spent much of the time in her thoughts, thinking of you.

Thankfully, before Natasha was able to get too caught up her emotions for you, she saw her target through one of the open windows.

The moment she saw him, she signaled for one of the other agents on the mission to set off the explosives. Within three minutes of laying her eyes on her target, the building was nothing but a mass of stone and wood and plaster. When the dust cleared, Natasha could see battered bits of furniture and the bloody parts of people crushed by the building.

Natasha got out of the vehicle that she had been in and walked over to the rubble of the building. She had to make sure her target had died.

As she walked over the uneven bits of stone and shattered wood, she monitored the people beneath her feet, hoping to find her target sooner rather than later. She didn’t want to deal with law enforcement or curious onlookers, nor did she want to continuously look at the empty eyes of the innocent people she had killed.

Whenever she came across someone that was still moving or breathing, she slit their throats. Clean and easy. They would be dead long before any rescue teams were able to extract them, anyway. It was best for them to die from a simple cut to the throat than having to suffer through being crushed by slabs of stone.

As she looked over the bodies, she found an arm poking out from underneath a layer of dust. At first, it looked just like the other dozen arms she had seen, but the bracelet on the wrist caught her eye. A very familiar bracelet, one that she had seen hundreds of times. One that her former wife had worn ever since she had gifted it to her on their second date.

Natasha’s heart beat quickened in her chest as panic coursed through her veins.

It wasn’t you, she reassured herself. You weren’t in Europe. You weren’t in France. You weren’t in Paris. And you definitely weren’t in this one particular building. She hadn’t hurt you. She hadn’t killed you.

She should have moved on, but she couldn’t help the little nagging part of her brain that told her she wouldn’t rest easy until she knew it wasn’t you. She slowly crouched down and ever-so-carefully reached forward and pushed the dust off the body, pushing away what little debris had landed on it. When she saw the ring on the person’s other hand, she froze.

It wasn’t your wedding ring, but it was one of your favorite pieces of jewelry. Along your wedding and engagement ring, you never left the house without it on. You didn’t feel fully dressed unless it was on your finger.

Natasha squeezed her eyes closed and forced deep breaths into her lungs.

It wasn’t you. There was no way it was you.

Police sires sounded in the background, and Natasha opened her eyes. She had to keep going. She had to make sure that it wasn’t you so that she could move on, secure that the target had been dispatched, and get out of the country before the police could even suspect foul play.

With a shaky hand, Natasha reached out to the person’s face. Gently, Natasha brushed aside the dust and felt herself go hollow.

There, beneath her hand, was your face. Your eyes were half-open and cloudy, your lips stuck open in an expression of fear and horror. Blood poured out from a large gash in your skull, partially concealed by your full head of hair. Hair which you had dyed and cut short since she had last seen you.

Natasha shook as a sob fell out of her.

Tears clouded her vision. The rubble beneath her dug into her knees as she fell out of her crouch, and the sirens blared louder, but to her, the real world didn’t exist. Nothing did.

All she felt was the white-hot nausea that rolled through her body and the guilt and regret that filled her to the brim. The sheer, unbridled horror that overtook her every sense as she saw you laying there, dead, blood pouring out of your uncountable amount of wounds.

She placed her hand on your forehead and choked when she felt your warm skin. If she allowed herself to suspend her belief, she could almost imagine that you were alive.

But she couldn’t.

No alive person lost that much blood. No alive person had their eyes clouded over. No alive person didn’t breathe.

The sirens got louder and louder until the police cars were right next to the rubble. A police officer got out of their vehicle and looked to her, calling out, asking if she was injured and needed help.

Natasha didn’t respond. She wasn’t sure she would ever be able to speak again. She wouldn’t be able to live with herself. She would never be able to breathe or talk or exist without feeling the overwhelming, suffocating weight that squeezed her to the point where she was breathless.

The police officer stepped onto the remnants of the building, the dust and stone crunching beneath their feet.

Natasha had to go. She couldn’t stay there. She couldn’t be brought in for questioning or as a witness. Really, she shouldn’t be there at all. Her being sighted was enough to get a firm reprimand from SHIELD. She didn’t want to know what they would do if she turned into a suspect of the bombing.

Despite every part of her that told her to stay, to lay herself over your body and let herself die of dehydration, she got up.

She gathered as much strength as she could and whispered a goodbye, hoping that whoever found you would give you a proper burial. She hoped that you had people who would miss you and would mourn you properly. She took in a shaking breath, wiped away her tears, and walked away.

She ignored the shouts of the police officers and the paramedics that had just arrived. She kept going, kept walking and pushing her body to keep going. Soon enough, she disappeared into the vast cityscape.

She was alive and she was free to go back to America, but you were not, all because of her.

#natasha romanoff #marvel #avengers #natasha romanoff x reader #avengers fanfiction #avengers x reader #natasha romanoff x female reader #marvel fanfiction #marvel fanfic #natasha romanoff x you #natasha romanoff fic #natasha romanoff fanfiction #natasha romanoff fanfic

[evendumbo]

on media literacy, shipping, and Ted Lasso...

This post was helpful to learn Hannah's more nuanced thoughts about Ted & Rebecca. I put the quotes in a word doc for people who can't see the words.

---

The T&R discourse is all over the place and I'm realizing that there needs to be a hard distinction between:

1) Ted & Rebecca as endgame (profess mutual romantic love, live happily ever after), and

2) Ted feeling romantic love for Rebecca and that truth is made clear to the audience through the writing, Rebecca's feelings are ambiguous-soulmate, and the characters are not necessarily endgame.

I had hoped for option 1. I reasonably thought the red bottom shoes were the clearest sign that Rebecca was going to Kansas, and I think the writers intended for me to think that. But the show also has a clear thread of melancholy and I wouldn't have been surprised if endgame was not in the cards. (I was also haunted by the reference to Once in the Christmas episode...)

So, as co-creator, Brendan Hunt, says, there was no enthusiasm in the writers' room for option 1. But option 2 is right there. Instead of the ambiguous ending that created feelings of confusion and being baited, I wish they had let the reasons for the heartbreak be clearer. Let the audience inside a little more so that the signs could maintain their narrative power and promise. In any other show that wasn't organized like a tight three-season arc that's filled with callbacks and parallels and signs, then ambiguity could be fine. But the way Ted Lasso is uniquely written, clear payoff on the central romantic arc was always going to be crucial and total ambiguity was always going to feel like a set up.

The anti-shippers who argue that there were no narrative signs towards a possible romance are dead wrong, but I agree with them that there was very little explicit romantic heat between Ted and Rebecca throughout the show. (I can't think of any except maybe Ted's "body language" during the gala and apology embraces.) I was hoping the story would get there given the signs and the narrative arc, but it never happened. So we're arguing about "media literacy" using different evidence, and I believe that signs are the stronger evidence given their specificity. We can all see that Ted Lasso is baking cookies so he can give them to Rebecca Welton every damn day, and I think most people can agree that that's at least peculiar. These signs of peculiar behavior and symbols piled up over three years, defining a clear likelihood of a romance in the works. But the case about heat is more subjective, a feel.

I have a friend who is a very respectful anti lolol. I encouraged her to watch the show and, when Ted found the matchbook in his pocket, she texted me "👀", even though she still didn't want it to happen. We had different hopes for the story outcome, but having "media literacy" is literally our jobs 😂 and she absolutely agrees the signs for romance were there and affirms the reasons the shippers are upset. The only difference between us was that, as a devotee to the TL writing approach, I became invested in the signs, and figured the heat would come when it came.

So when it ended, I had two distinct feelings. As a shipper, I was disappointed that option 1 did not come to pass. (ETA: Here's a great article breaking down the reasons for that.) But as a lover of the art of television, I felt a legitimate sense of loss that option 2 also did not come to pass, meaning the narrative signs were never acknowledged, they were just dropped like they didn't mean anything. Signs sometimes not being signs after all is life, sure, but tv shows aren't a realistic representation of life, they are an art form. The abrupt abandonment of their unique approach to writing created unnecessary turmoil in the fandom. This would have been bad enough, but then Brendan (and Hannah a bit as well) unhelpfully poured gas over it 🙄 by refusing to seriously contend with the show's narrative method and, instead, implied shippers (largely women) were making things up. But turns out that shippers are fucking smart and we took that shit seriously, look no further than the detailed gif sets on the tumblr tedbecca tag. Their comments broke trust between the storytellers and their very captive audience (including some media literate non-shippers). Their repeated "soulmates can be platonic" explanation was never in debate, it was always what we were seeing on the screen, the storytelling itself.

So, I'm sad that the project of it all played out the way it did. There's still a part of me that thinks maybe it will come back around someday so that the story can pay off the narrative debts it created, "thunder and lightening," daily homemade biscuits, etc. But it's hard for me to imagine I'd want to come back to the story whether or not that happens. Re-watches have also lost something special.

Maybe with time... 💜

#ted lasso #tedbecca #rebecca welton #rebecca x ted #ted x rebecca #media literacy

[rinbowaman]

S E 7 E N : P R O L O G U E - P A R T 2 W O

Warnings: MDNI18+ Sexual assault, sexual harassment, religion, angels and demons, mentions of hell, angels are bad guys, demons are good guys, sinful pleasures, dry humping, fingering, making a deal with the devil. The idea of angels attacking people is borrowed from that show on Netflix, "Hellbound" excellent show, i recommend in case you haven't seen it. I believe its an adaption from a manwha. so enjoy!

You turned over to your left where the staircase led down to the first floor, there just a couple of steps down, was the Senator.

“I thought I saw you come by this way.” He smiles softly as he approaches you.

“O-oh….my apologies…I wasn’t aware that you noticed me leaving.” You were polite, but nervous and scared. The man was intimidating due to the amount of power his words held.

“No no, it’s alright. I had just wanted to ask you…why haven’t you joined Voia Domnului?”

Your heart nearly exploded. A wave of fear hits you.

“I…um…”

“You know, it’s not too late. You should join soon…otherwise risk being selected. It is now becoming a sin to refrain from joining our organization as we…have become the communicators of God.”

“Oh….I see….well I guess I just…haven’t really thought of it that way…” You merely responded in politeness and issued a sense of being naïve, in hopes that the conversation would end, soon.

Handing you a card, he bids you to take it.

“This has the address to my main office. Come by tonight, I will give you some things to help with your transition for when you join.” He smiles as you nervously take the card.

“um…I’m not sure if I’ll be free tonight-“

“Oh please…I insist. We must take care of each other, and I can’t bear to see someone like you be labeled as a sinner. I will do my best to help save you.”

You found his statement audacious yet nodded and refrained from continuing the conversation.

After you clocked out, you signaled for a taxi to take you to the Senator. You really didn’t want to go but had no choice considering you’d be putting yourself at risk if you refused to show up. They labeled you as defiant, unwilling to progress and furthermore, you already suspected that the Senator had leads and connections to figure out your home address…who knows what would happen if you didn’t show up.

Pulling up and paying the cab driver, you stepped out and admired the large building. Much like the Senator’s attire, it was an architecture of luxury and elegance.

‘What a joke…is this for real? How much did it cost to build this thing?’

 Breaching the entrance, which was guarded by security, you saw the elaborate sign that read ‘Voia Domnului Headquarters’.

“This way.” One of the security members issues to you.

Leading you to the top floor, your heartbeat escalates as you hear the ding of the elevator, indicating you had reached the desired floor.

“Over here.” The man escorts you.

“Ah, you made it.” Forras stands as he holds out his arms wide open, indicating for you to hug him. You shifted your gaze around, hesitantly administering what was supposed to be just a quick hug, so that you wouldn’t put yourself at risk of offending the man, yet he held you close for a minute as he shifted his face against your hair and whispered…

“It’s so good that you came.”

You pull back at the discomfort of being so close to him, it made you uncomfortable and not to mention, made you feel somewhat disgusted. The man embraced you more tenderly than you were expecting, and that didn’t sit well with you.

“I uh….know you must be busy so if it’s alright, I’ll take some pamphlets and be on my way. I have an early morn-“

“No need to worry. I am not as busy as you would think. I have everything at my disclosure and…” reaching for your shoulder, he rests his hand as he grips you. “You could also have…everything.”

You shifted your shoulder out of his grasp as you looked at him sternly.

‘Did he just….is he hitting on me?’

“Senator I ….”

“Wouldn’t you like to not only be a part of the organization…but also to be a part of the head of it?”

You gently shook your head.

“I….rather not…I just…”

“You’re a beautiful girl…you should be well taken care and enjoy the luxuries in life. I have all of that, I can arrange everything for you. I have a whole group of fine young ladies such as yourself, who are very well taken care of.”  He smiles as he takes his steps towards you.

“n..no…..”

“yes….”

“NO!”

You turned hastily as you made your way to the door when his hands grabbed you from behind. Struggling, he pins you to the wall as he presses his body against yours.

“Yeah…I bet you like to take it like a whore!”

“Stop!!”

His hands roamed as he squeezes your breasts and began to rip open the top buttons of your collard, short sleeve shirt.

“I said stop!”

He continued to grope your chest as he shoves his face into your neck, feeling his tongue on your skin, your eyes began to issue out tears as the amount of disgust fills your body from him touching you. Shifting your face to the side, your eyes caught sight of a small paper weight, grabbing it within your reach, you swung at his head, right over his ear to be précised, and struck him not once, but twice as the man peels back and holds his head.

“You whore!!! How dare you!?”

You wasted no time as you swung the door open, opting to take the stair way as you quickly ran down making your way to the nearest fire exit. You could hear the Senator’s voice echoing out towards you from above the lower you went down.

“You’ll pay! You will fucking pay!”

Reaching the second floor, you opened the fire exit and ran down the spiral, outdoor ladder well, quickly running out taking numerous and random turns to avoid being stationary to one pathway.

‘Please don’t find me! Please don’t find me! Please don’t find me!’

You continued running, yet you came to a sudden halt for a moment when you looked up at the wide billboard that displayed the current time… it was already nine-thirty. You had no idea where you were, and there was only thirty minutes left before curfew starts.

‘Fuck! I need to get home! Wh-where am I exactly?’

Since phones had all been banned, there was no way for you to navigate using a map or anything to aid you. You found yourself in the back of an old neighborhood, yet as you continued running, you made way to the suburbs of the city.

‘Where do I go? How do I get out of here?’

The time was nine-fifty-four, and you grew desperate as there was nowhere for you to go. Taxi’s and cabs had already called it a night, leaving you stranded out past curfew, facing the chargers of being caught, and brought back to the senator.

Shifting your gaze around, you saw the sign that displayed the nearby recreational nature trails. Figuring it was best to hide somewhere deep in the wooded area, you ran past the Azaela Garden at the entrance before ducking below the pole gate that prevented the entry of vehicles.

Running on the main trail, you took numerous paths at the various intersections, hoping to lose yourself in the depths of the woods, figuring it was your best chance to remain secluded and hidden.

Surprisingly, there were no sirens, no yells or cries that indicated anyone was after you, not even when you left the building and was still within the city limits. Still…

‘I need to keep running…’

You ran for God knows how long. Your eyes acclimated to the darkness of the path, only the moonlight lit the way for you, though it was awfully dimmed. Up ahead, as you tried to regain your breathing, you saw a glint of light. Making your way over to it, you saw that it was a large map of the trails.

‘Perfect.’

Taking your hair out of the loose bun you had, trying to air out each of your strands as you flapped the front of your partially torn shirt, you tried to cool yourself as you looked up….only to find something written on the map that made your eyes widened with shock, fear, and horror.

.........................................

“Y/n…7 days…”

P A R T T H R 3 E

#heeseung x reader #heeseung scenarios #heeseung smut #heeseung hard hours #enha x reader #heeseung hard thoughts #heeseung fanfic #enhypen smut #enha heeseung #enhypen hard hours

[isa-ghost]

hey it's the anon who asked what dr*m did,

I decided to do my own research (mainly cause I was curious) but... I can't find much? let me rephrase it - I did find the allegations from 6ish months ago, that he's going to court with one(?) of them, but that's... all? I didn't find the court's verdict, confirmations, or him admitting either... and any post or video I find has both the OP and the comments mostly on his side and believing that it's either not true or true but not grooming, even people who say they're not his fans or don't even like him.

so Im not sure if the confirmation didn't reach youtube or if I'm searching wrong or something?

but honestly while researching I realized that I cant stand him lmao, gotta agree with some comments I read - he made a mistake by showing more of his personality online, looks like any time he can handle a situation wrong/respond wrong he does it

so dunno, guess I didnt find the confirmation but at least now I don't find his old minecraft videos interesting anymore so theres that

Yeah he can't act properly to save his fucking life

Also I think most of the threads on Twitter and stuff that have all the proof he's guilty/etc is probably long buried, unfortunately. You could probably try to ask around saying you're trying to get the whole picture but tbh it's not a huge deal if you can't. You can try searching my blog but Tumblr sucks with that shit. The fact that this and his other controversies have been buried and lost to the void of the internet is typical white boy with a monstrously big platform shit so I'm not surprised. I never heard any details about court (prob for legal reasons) or a conviction either. All I know is there was screenshot proof from the victim that they talked, and Dr*m confirmed the screenshots were real but didn't say anything about other details. But those details literally can't be false if the screenshots & the shit said in them are true.

Anyway, as far as his other bullshit goes:

People found old kkk meme edits on his yt account through the wayback machine. More than once if I'm not mistaken

He has a history of defending himself using the r slur

He cheated "on accident" in a speedrun (the least important thing ever but everyone always brings it up)

He claimed he was going to donate all proceeds during pride month to lgbt+ charities & he'd do charity streams all month but never did

He defended himself about replying to haters, which would send thousands of his toxic stans after the person getting them doxxed/death threats/etc and he refused to address that it was irresponsible of him bc he was too entitled to immaturely clap back at the antis. Even other ccs, like B/itzel called him out about shit related to how he uses his platform irresponsibly & he unfollowed & shaded them like a bitch baby

The whole "accidental" copycat shit with QSMP/USMP and basically softcore stalking Q/uackity online.

His "apologies" for all of the above fucking sucked in multiple ways. And that's just 2021-Now shit I can remember off the top of my head, I lost my Twitter in May last year so now I get my info from people's posts about it on here or links to tweets.

Everyone largely suspects he spontaneously reignited d/smp lore & started the finale to cover up the groomer thing bc he has a history of doing smth "new and cool" every time he causes drama to divert attention and avoid accountability.

He's also suspected of suddenly rewriting the d/smp finale to paint his Irredeemable Abuser Villain Up Until The Last Stream as a sympathetic poor baby out of nowhere and wrote that his victim, c!Tommy apologized to him, which sends a HORRIBLE message about abusive relationships. T/ommy and T/ubbo have both subtly mentioned not liking the finale and that Dr*m had AWFUL communication during the last like 6+ months of the smp.

He also suddenly showed up in T/ubbo's chat lurking while T/ubbo happened to be mentioning he'd do his own research on the grooming situation instead of blindly siding with Dr*m and it was some shit out of a horror movie is2g, he suddenly dmed T/ubbo out of nowhere during it on discord saying they'd talk about it after T/ubbo wasn't streaming. Basically sounds like he was gonna bias T/ubbo about his innocence. Like he hadn't been in chat all stream long but SUDDENLY he was there the second the topic came up. But the d/smp ccs also can't say anything about the situation since it's a legal matter, so a handful of ccs have just stated/implied they don't support him other ways

He only quit MCC bc he threw a tantrum about how he couldn't practice for it but now that MCC island exists, people were getting better than him. He's habitually a sore loser about that kinda shit

He's got that whole weird "is he, isn't he" bullshit going on about him being lgbt. I personally think he's just catering to his stupid d/n/f shippers bc they like to truth their relationship & sexuality all the time and he's never explicitly said he's bi or smth. He's just vaguely been like "yeeeaahhhh I mostly like girls like 99% but maaaayyybeee I like guys idkkkk. 🤪" But he's also done that multiple times so who tf knows. I'm not gonna fully dismiss him & I understand no one including me is entitled to his specific sexuality, but he has garbage credibility on like everything so I'm neutral on the matter and find it hard to believe him

Not directly him related, but his stans went on a long and horrifying witch hunt on Twitter during the kkk ordeal doxxing, death threatening & harassing ENTIRE mcyt subtwts who spoke out against him and called him out on his racism, performative activism, shitty apology, etc. For example, I was part of S/neeg's subtwt and all my mutuals and me had to go private to avoid getting doxxed. It felt like being raided in some dystopian ass horror film. Entire subtwts were going private, panicking, paranoid they'd get outed & stalked & harassed by people just for condemning racism, raising Black voices, etc. It was borderline traumatic to some people, I know people who lost sleep over it bc they were so afraid.

That's all I can think of off the top of my head but the end of 2021 to early 2022 was a fucking nightmare between him being an immature entitled piece of shit and his stans blindly defending him and going out of their way to endanger people who rightfully opposed him.

#dream situation #<- this tag on Tumblr might be really helpful to you actually. a lot of ppl tag posts about current drm drama with it #if you go back far enough you might find threads about the allegations and stuff

[mysticdoodlez]

Kitty Noah headcanons

Kitty Noah knows Jolly is allergic to cats and hangs around him out of spite

For sure always wants to nap on Jolly's lap. Like, he'll get sleepy and leave the Nick's laps to find Jolly.

People outside of the band (excluding Jesse, Orie, Bryan, and Matt, who only egg on the antics to piss off Jolly) are like "Awww Kitty Noah likes you, look how attached he is to you" and Jolly has to sit their in suffering while Kitty Noah's going huehuehuehue...

He bit Jolly and caught an assault charge when Jolly tried to put him in the cat carrier. Jolly had to chug a cup of benadryl after. He's still traumatized.

So then who does Kitty Noah technically belong to? Ruffilo!

(He's known Kitty Noah the longest, so he adopted him in Virginia)

Ruffles knows Noah's tricks and the appropriate response/punishment

Possession of catnip? Ruffles breaks out the spray bottle

Public indecency? Cone of shame, baby

Assault, vehicular manslaughter, and desecration of a (mouse) corpse? I N T O T H E A N G E R C U B E

But even after all that, Kitty Noah still asks for uppies and Ruffilo will begrudgingly cave in.

At least until the next time Noah is perched on top of his cat tower with a sniper rifle.

Jolly and Ruffilo try to keep Kitty Noah's antics from Folio, because that guy refuses to believe that Noah is a lil shit.

Ruffles can list the mile-long list of crimes, and Folio will refuse to listen and believe it.

To Folio, Kitty Noah's only crime is that he's too adorable, and that's why Kitty Noah goes to Folio to cry in Folio's jacket hood, aka "The Kitty Pocket".

Kitty Noah steps in a puddle and Folio wraps him in a towel

But on the rare occasion that Folio can't defend Kitty Noah, he will wheedle Ruffles down to where the punishment is stuff like making everyone Apology Pancakes.

Which is fine and all until Jolly finds a bunch of cat hairs in his pancakes (put there purposefully)

Feel free to add your own, cuz I had to stop myself so I wouldn't seem too obsessive.

@cyrusunderscore @roley-poley-foley

#bad omens #noah sebastian #nick folio #joakim karlsson #nicholas ruffilo #bad omens cult #Kitty Noah #I have too much time on my hands #And I have no talents #I have to show my love for the band somehow

[ladytauria]

Chubby!Jason+Tim cooking, if you don't mind prompt now

❤ i never mind prompts! sometimes i am just very slow at getting to them ^^;

ngl there didn't end up being much cooking in this lol. i thought i was gonna sit down & write ~300 words of cooking + banter & ended up with almost 1k of fluffy domesticity, so. i hope u like it!

it's been a bit since i've had the spoons to do much writing so having this flow as (relatively) easy as it did was a treat. thanks for the prompt~

(i have another jaytim prompt sitting in my inbox rn too, so if ur reading this, nonny, i promise i'm going to get to it! my brain just refuses to settle on one idea~)

OH. and apologies for any missing 'e's.' the key was doing... not fine, but like, decently, and then it decided to pop out & then back on wrong. i think i caught them all, but. just in case.

EDIT: …the last paragraph seems to have disappeared for me? i hope i’ve fixed but, uh. this is also on AO3. if this keeps happening, you may want to read it there instead.

Tim comes home to the heavenly smell of something cooking. He smiles to himself, despite the heaviness in his limbs, and makes his way into the kitchen. Jason stands at the stove, stirring something, while meat sizzles in another pan. Normally Tim would take a moment to admire him; how comfortable and relaxed he is here, in this home they've built together.

Not today.

Today, he plasters himself against Jason's back, burying his face in the fabric of Jason's t-shirt and winding his arms around Jason's waist, underneath his Wonder Woman apron. This close, he can smell the lingering traces of Jason's favorite soap, the slight tang of sweat, and something uniquely Jason. He sinks into his warmth with a soft sigh.

"Long day?" Jason asks, voice rumbling under Tim's cheek. He lays a hand over Tim's arm, slowly stroking his skin with his thumb.

Tim nods. "In and out of meetings all day," he says. He prefers days when he can disappear into the R&D labs. Though, honestly, he'll even take the paperwork over meetings—especially a full day of them.

Jason hums sympathetically, which Tim feels more than hears. "Food'll be ready soon," he says. He taps Tim's arm once, twice. "You should go change."

"Mm. I'm good here, actually," Tim mumbles. Jason-cuddles are the best cure for long, draining days. Nothing beats burying his face in the plushness of his chest or or stomach. Especially when he absentmindedly cards his fingers through Tim's hair, scratching his scalp in just the right way to make him melt.

The space between his shoulder blades is nice too, though.

Jason snorts. "Uh-huh. I don't want to listen to you bitch about getting stains on your shirt tomorrow. Go."

Tim huffs. "I can eat without staining my shirt." Usually.

"Let's not take chances. Besides, are you really telling me you want to spend the rest of the night in your suit?"

Tim doesn't have to see Jason's face to know he's arching a brow, the same way Alfred does when he knows he's got you backed into a corner. He huffs again, but doesn't argue. After all, Jason's right. He really doesn't want to spend the rest of the night in a suit, no matter how perfectly tailored it is.

Still. He pinches Jason's side when he pulls away, grinning smugly at his boyfriend's undignified (and adorable) squeak as he dances out of reach. Jason glares at him, effect totally ruined by his mouth twitching at the corners. Tim sticks his tongue out. Jason loses the battle, treating him to a fond, helpless smile as he shakes his head.

Tim ducks into their bedroom, shedding the suit in favor of one of Jason's shirts. It's soft and worn, the Shakespeare reference on the front chipped from too many washes. Perfect to relax in. He takes an extra minute to stow his suit properly, if only so he doesn't have to iron it later, and returns, finding Jason plating their food.

"Feel better?" Jason asks, raising an eyebrow.

"Maybe," Tim says.

He snorts, and offers Tim one of the plates before nudging him toward the couch. "Is it a Criminal Minds or Star Trek night tonight?" he asks, scooping up the remote before Tim can and navigating to the family's shared digital library.

Tim's chest does something soft and gooey which really shouldn't be legal. He's not sure what his face is doing—only that he is helplessly, utterly, heels-over-head in love. These days, he's grown accustomed to the feeling; the warm glow in his chest from Jason's presence, the safety and surety he feels at his side. But sometimes something happens—something small and simple like Jason remembering his comfort shows—and love overwhelms him all over again. He hopes it never stops.

"Star Trek," he says, voice maybe a little thicker than normal. Jason doesn't comment; just finds the listing and starts up one of Tim's favorite episodes, casual as you please. Oblivious to or ignoring the effect he has on Tim. (The slight pinkness to the tips of his ears would suggest the latter.)

Tim leans into his side, pressing a kiss into his shoulder. "I love you."

Jason kisses the top of his head. "Love you too," he murmurs into his hair. They stay like that for a minute—just a minute—before Tim reluctantly drags himself away to eat.

It's delicious, as always. Tim hasn't eaten this well (or regularly) since he moved out of the manor—his self-provided meals being mostly takeout, and often skipped or forgotten in favor of work. And he's not the only one benefiting. Jason, no longer bouncing between safe-houses and looking over his shoulders, has filled out; hard muscles now protected by a layer of padding and squish perfect for curling up against.

Which Tim does, the second both their plates retire to the coffee table.

Jason snags the plush throw they keep on the back of the couch and re-positions them so they're reclining on the couch. Tim's head is pillowed on Jason's chest, near his heart; one of Jason's arms snug around his waist, and both of his pressed against Jason's sides. It doesn't take long for Jason's free hand to settle on his head, combing through his hair, untangling knots with perfect gentleness in between soft scritches.

It doesn't take long for Tim's eyelids to droop; heaviness returning to his limbs. He sighs quietly, contentedly, turning his face into Jason’s chest, and sinks into sleep.

#jaytim #timjay #jason todd #tim drake #dcu #batfam #tauriawritesfanfic #lovely anons #asks and answers #tauriawrites #domesticity my beloved #also i always write jason comfort so i figured it was tim's turn this time #tim deserves snuggles & by god he is going to get them

[miradelletarot]

Thank you @waterdeepwhiskey for the tag!!

I tag @tavyliasin @morb-untamed @ex-textura and else who wants to join the fun! (so deeply sorry if you already did this though. Hard to keep up with who does these things anymore lol).

BASICS

Full name: Sagora Crefort (well, she's Sagora Dekarios now hehe).

Gender: Female

Sexuality: Straight (but she's definitely explored other options a bit in her youth).

Background: Outlander

Class: Circle of the Moon Druid

OTHER

Birthplace: A small, matriarchal family grove about a tenday outside of Baldur's Gate

Profession: She was *supposed* to be First Druid of her grove after her mother died, but the ilithids took her first.

Phobias: Spiders. She HATES spiders. So much so, that she refuses to use her spider form unless she TRULY needs to use it.

Guilty pleasures: She mayyy or may not enjoy that Waterdhavian Whiskey Gale mentioned once a bit too much, and when she's good and tipsy she channels her inner stripper dancer. (This totally didn't happen in camp that one time when all they had for dinner was a bunch of alcohol.)

Hobbies: meditation, yoga (or whatever the Faerun version of that would be lol)

MORALS

Alignment: Neutral Good

Sins: b/c of her past, she's got a lot of trust issues, and that tends to make her very cold towards ppl she doesn't care about. She also has a tendency to say what's on her heart a bit too bluntly if (again, someone she really cares about) is doing something stupid in her perspective (example: Gale feeling like he has to do what Mystra says about using the orb). She had some VERY BIG FEELINGS about that, and wasn't shy about it either. She also wasn't very nice. When she gets that angry she enters into the "act first, and apologize later" territory.

Virtues: Trying to live up to the standards of First Druid that her mother would have been proud of. She's also extremely thoughtful, and tries to do whatever she can to make those around her feel happy and safe as much as she possibly can. Her and Astarion didn't get along very well at first for that reason, but when she promised to help him with Cazador (and delivered on that promise,) he had a lot more respect and appreciation for her, and her desire to help those around her.

THIS OR THAT

Introvert / Extrovert

Organized / Disorganized

Close-minded / Open-minded

Calm / Anxious / Restless

Disagreeable / Agreeable / In between

Cautious / Reckless / In between

Patient / Impatient / In between

Outspoken / Reserved / In between

Leader / Follower / Flexible

Empathetic / Unempathetic / In between

Optimist / Pessimist / Realist

Traditional / Modern / In between

Hard-working / Lazy

R E L A T I O N S H I P S

OTP: Sagora/Gale (Vineweave!) <3

Acceptable Ships: Gale has her heart. No one else compares.

OT3: None. While Sagora is a half-elf (and rather accustomed to these sorts of relationships,) she respects Gale's monogamous preferences. She loves him so deeply that she would never want to disrespect his boundaries, and thus, the only one she will ever need/want/desire is him. =>

Brotp: Sagora and Karlach. K bae is her ride or die. Hands down!

Notp: Anything Mystra. Fuck that wish.com Barbie ass bitch!

BACKSTORY

The daughter of a Baldurian Merchant, and next in line to be First Druid in her family's grove, Sagora endured the separation of her family when her father was threatened by The Guild - with her, her sister, and mother as the targets. Sagora's strong-willed personality brought her defiantly back to Baldur's Gate to be with her father when she was violently assaulted. The attack left her unconscious for over a tenday, waking up back in her grove with orders to never return to Baldur's Gate. When her mother died, she set out to return to her childhood home to send word to her father when she was captured by the ilithids. Now, her task is to survive not only for the sake of the Sword Coast, but to return to her family's grove, and take her rightful place as the new First Druid.

...Or will she? my fic series was meant as not just a Gale x Sagora romance, but as a means to share/write out her backstory! You can read it here!

#oc: Sagora #bg3 #oc meme #baldur's gate 3 #oc tag #sagora #sagora crefort

[silvergoldraeven]

Part 8 which took way longer than it should've hfhdhfhf

(im so r ry fsdfdsfds)

Part 7 here

- Heimdall just trying to eat in peace but Huginn and Muninn constantly stealing his food.

Just. Heimdall taking a bite of an apple and both the birds being like "yo snack time!!" and chomping down.

Huginn and Muninn trying to eat cheese and Heimdall having to VERY quickly take it away from them and scolding them

- Heimdall telling Atreus "don't be too eager to prove yourself to others. You'll turn into some people pleasing prick"

"sounds like you're talking from experience :D"

Cue Atreus being kicked off of Gulltoppr

- Heimdall actually adores animals since they never really have bad intentions. Yes they're a bit mischievous from time to time, but if they're actually "bad"  it's for their own survival.

- Baldur and Heimdall constantly lean on Atreus' head and whenever anyone asks why they do it they reply with "so he won't grow taller than us :)"

-  on Atreus' birthday, Heimdall takes him to Alfheim at night, sets up a comfy place with a bunch of furs, pillows and snacks while they camp there all night.

- when it's winter again, Heimdall tries to look tough by going out to hunt without the thick furs he normally wears, Kratos sternly calls him back. Heimdall reluctantly walks back to his father who puts the fur coat on Heimdall's shoulders, making sure it won't fall off.

"father I can dress myself-"

"I know. That is not why I'm doing this."

-  Heimdall and Atreus having to go somewhere in Midgard while it's winter. Atreus sprints ahead, Heimdall doesn't think much of it

Until a snowball hits him right in the chest.

Cue a gasp from both Heimdall and Atreus.

Heimdall slowly turning to Atreus who is about to start celebrating for being able to hit him but stops as he sees Heimdall's face. Just as he's about to apologize to his brother, Heimdall grabs his chest with a loud and very dramatic groan, falling to the floor even more dramatically.

Atreus is scared first, thinking something actually happened, but when he realises what Heimdall is doing he grins and runs back over, falling to his knees with a loud "nooooo! My dearest brother!"

Drama club mode activated as they act out how Heimdall is dying as Heimdall sneakily grabs a fistful of snow and throwing it in Atreus' face.

Atreus, who was very into character, splutters for a second and Heimdall takes the opportunity to swiftly get up and grab as much snow as he can to throw at the younger one.

They end up having a whole snowball fight and having to go home immediately after from how soaked their clothes are.

- Freya making Heimdall help with collecting ingredients for a spell. When he comes back with what she needs, she kisses his forehead and thanks him. Heimdall is stunned for a bit but wipes his forehead before grumpily walking away

Heimdall offers his help more often to Freya after that tho

- Heimdall refusing to use his bifrost arm whenever doing most things that require 2 hands, he'd rather rely on someone else since he knows he needs to learn how to work with others

- also Heimdall: uses said bifrost arm just to make his gestures more dramatic while talking

- Baldur and Heimdall getting super drunk together one night, the whole group funding out that they're the giggly type of drunks

- Atreus starts making a lot of friends around villages, towns and trading caravans in Midgard and beyond. The parties he throws are even more grand than what Odin used to do.

Heimdall hates it at first, but Atreus insists on him sticking around every time. Slowly but surely he actually starts enjoying parties, he'll just leave the dancing to Atreus.

- Heimdall, Baldur and Tyr try to fix their relationship. Tyr suggests just drinking tea and talking, both Heimdall and Baldur are a bit skeptic at first but start enjoying the routine of going over to Tyr for tea.

They convince Thrud to let them take Mjulnir with them, so Thor is included in some way still.

- speaking of Thor; they made a small gravesite for the friends and family they've lost. Heimdall goes to Thor's a lot to leave food he made or just to talk, even if he isn't sure if his brother knows.

#heimdall #god of war #god of war ragnarok #heimdall gow