#can you tell the labyrinth was formative?

[modawg]

i wrote this so long ago but fully forgot abt it in my notes app like the menace i am so here you go

i believe i wrote this sometime after this post so context is sally is an amazing mom and percy having a really bad night terrors resulting in a panic attack

Sally joins him on the floor, with the lights now on he knows the shadows were from the jacket on the door, the chair at his desk, and other mess scattered in his room. He feels numb, exhausted, his hands still shaking where his mom is now holding them. All he can do is stare down at them, feel the slow circles massaged into his palms. His hands are calloused, clammy with sweat, his cuticles torn from an anxious night, hers are soft, wrinkled with age, yet solid and heavy in his. An anchor.

She drops her head to look at his face, releasing one of his hands to cup his chin.

He can barely even look her in the eye. It’s too much, she looks so sad. So lost. She pulls him to her chest, her arms wrapped around him like armor made of celestial bronze, imperial gold. He can hear her heartbeat like this, it’s calm, and it reminds him of when he was very young. When Gabe would be crashing around the house and he would tremble, shaking with the shelves, when she would hold him tight like this and tell him that nothing could hurt him. That she was there.

He takes a shuddering breath.

“Oh, baby,” sally says holding him close, stroking his hair. He can tell in her voice that she’s near tears. Her voice trickling off at the end, a frown deep in her lips.

“What happened?” and he can’t even tell her, all he can do is cry. Cry, and cry, and cry.

i feel like percy’s nightmares or panic attacks or literally anything would be pretty violent like i think back to when he was in the labyrinth and he had that dream abt nico and he exploded that water fountain bc he was so stressed like i could imagine sally and paul waking up not from screams but from a leak in their ceiling

or when they get to his room he’s already in a fighting stance maybe he has riptide already in sword form so they have to talk him out of it from the doorway rather then his bedside

they know he wouldn’t hurt them they know

#lets play the can mo stfu abt percy’s trauma game #i’m not playing #i love angst #i’m just a girl #pjo #hoo #percy jackson #percy jackon and the olympians #heros of olympus #hoo fandom #pjo fandom #hoo text post #pjo text post #hoo/pjo #sally jackson #paul blofis #percy and sally

[suguruuuuu-chan]

Listen. Fae Gojo. Adventurer Geto he wants to entrap and who he falls for during the tournaments/games/mazes he has to conquer in order to escape. The rules are bizarre but always fair. Gojo who falls abruptly, hard and fast, a freefall. Geto who takes his time, is hopelessly endeared, but doesn't let that stop him from winning. Geto who gets his freedom and a prize AND THEN sweeps Gojo off his feet

#gpjo who was pouting about and devastated about Suguru leaving #and not making the choice to stay #but then immediately becomes smug and preens when Suguru decides to claim him as a prize also #suguru who can frequently travel between worlds #and introduces an excited arrogant satoru to normal dates and arcades and cotton candy just like before #who still rubs his otherworldly eyes and kisses them softly #and gojo never stood a chance did he #satosugu #can you tell the labyrinth was formative? #anyways #goge #jjk au #geto suguru #gojo satoru

[st4rr-girrl]

Saviors

summary; When you have nowhere to stay- and you're falling tired- you turn to the Crescent Hotel to sleep. You roomed next to four people, and they help you when something traumatic happens in your hotel room.

warnings: Cussing, hella paranormal activity, major? injuries, anxiety attack. (i changed a few things from the video tho)

(a/n this post is kind of ass and yall keep liking it so ilysm but this is so shitty lmaoo i promise my writing had a glow-up)

pairing: colby brock x fem reader

Now playing; see how I circle / labyrinth

Up next; oblivion -grimes

Genesis-grimes

The sky started to darken, mirroring my negative mood. I sighed, feeling fatigue slowly start to take over my body.

Turning my black car's driving wheel, I drove into the 'Crescent Hotel" parking lot. I sighed, stepping out of the car and opening the trunk.

I grabbed an outfit, and shoved it into a bag before grabbing my purse and locking the car up.

I glanced up at the balcony of a room, seeing a dark figure stare at me intensely. My eyes widened and I felt goosebumps form on my skin.

The night was dark and cold, forcing a shiver make its way up my spine. I crossed my arms over my chest, as I shivered in my white dress. I approached the hotel doors, and quickly made my way inside, protecting myself from the cold misty air that surrounded me.

I walked in, feeling a heavy amount of energy fall onto my shoulders. I frowned deeply, before spotting an adorable black cat seated on the couch. I walked up to it and pet its soft fur, feeling my heart become warm. A smile grew on my face as I temporarily forgot about the dark, sad and longing feeling that lingered in the air, before walking up to the front desk.

"Hi, can I get a room for one night, please?" I offered a kind smile to the lady seated behind the counter. She returned the smile, and handed me a room key. 'Room 201'

"You'll be staying at room 201. That'll be 130$." My eyes widened at the price, but I was desperate for sleep. I opened my purse and grabbed my wallet, pulling out 150$.

"Keep the change." I smiled, collecting my stuff before heading up the spiraled stairs.

I was walking down a hallway, when I heard a faint "Damn baby! Back it up on over here, if ya will." In an accent. I turned around, fear gripping onto my chest. There was nobody there. I was completely alone. I frowned deeply, before rushing back to the stairs.

It took me a while, but I finally made it to my hotel room. I sighed happily, despite the feeling of sadness surrounding me.

I noticed a brunette boy leaving hotel room 202 and I smiled kindly at him. He returned the smile, as my eyes wandered to the camera located in his left hand. I tilted my head and raised a brow a little bit.

"Oh. I'm sorry." He laughed. "I'm a youtuber. Me and my friends are recording a video."

I was still confused. "What's so special about this place?" I looked around. I acknowledged the negative and sad energy around me, but shrugged it off.

"You don't know?" He asked me curiously.

"Know what?" I was a lot more confused now.

"This hotel is haunted." My eyes widened. it makes sense now. The figure on the balcony and the sad energy around here. No wonder.

"That makes sense." I shrugged, rubbing my hands up and down my arms.

"Why? Did you see something?" He asked me, concern swirling behind his blue eyes.

"Yeah I saw a figure on a balcony, but i just thought it was a person. Though it was creepy enough to give me goosebumps. It also feels sad. And angry here. Like there some sort of longing feeling. I also got catcalled by something that wasn't there. " I explained, giggling a bit at the end.

"Do you mind if i record you explaining that? If not that's alright. But it would be great to let the fans know."

"Sure, Mr. Popular." I smirked teasingly. He rolled his eyes playfully and turned on the camera and angled it at me.

"Okay so tell us what happened again...?" He trailed, searching for something.

"Y/n." I smiled.

"Okay so tell us what happened, Y/n."

"Soo, when I arrived here, I had no clue it was haunted until this handsome stranger told me." I smiled and winked jokingly. "But before I came in here, I saw a figure standing on a balcony and it was just.... staring at me. It gave me goosebumps. And after that, the second I stepped foot into the hotel the energy surrounding me felt, sad. Like previous people here were longing for something. And a bit of anger was hidden beneath the longing and sadness. I also got catcalled, but when I turned around I was alone. Whatever happened here must've been pretty bad." I explained for a second time but in more detail. "I still don't know what happened here, I just know that it's haunted."

I smiled at the boy behind the camera. "I'm colby, by the way." He mirrored my smile.

"Thanks for letting me know what I was getting myself into, Colby." I giggled as he put the camera down.

"Yeah, Sure." He laughed, his deep voice sending butterflies to my stomach. Heat rises to my cheek before he continued. "If you need anything me and my friend, Sam, will be in here. And maybe our other two friends. You're also welcome to join us, we're gonna be ghost hunting."

"Yeah, I'll consider it." I smiled kindly once more. "Thanks, Colby."

"No problem." he waved, returning the smile before walking down the hall. I opened my hotel room, rushing in and throwing my bag on my bed.

I sighed happily, finally being able to sleep. I couldn't shake the feeling of being watched, and I shivered a bit before trying to push the thought to the back of my mind.

I changed out of my white dress, and replaced it for pajama bottoms and a long sleeve shirt with holes for my thumbs.

I put fresh socks on before turning out the light and quickly hopping into the big bed.

I saw something in the corner, just before fatigue took over my body.

--

'Wake up' A females voice whispered in my ear.

I shot out of bed quickly, my eyes wide. Sweat dripped down the side of my head as I looked around my room. "Hello??" I said out loud. No response.

I shrugged it off as my imagination, and tried to fall back asleep.

—

I rubbed my eyes, tiredly sitting up.

“Why do I keep waking up.” I whispered to myself, picking up a clock that rested on a nightstand to the left of me.

“3:33.” I read out loud. “Isn’t that an Angel number?”

I shrugged it off, before I heard a mumbling. My head shot up and stared into the darkness that lie before me.

I squinted, trying to see into the black fog. I saw a figure. Staring at me. Menacingly. My eyes widened as I froze in fear.

A faint “What do you want?” Tore from my parted lips.

It didn’t respond, to nobody’s surprise, yet still stood there.

I sat in the king sized bed, slowly building up to courage to make a run for it.

When the courage was built, I leapt out of bed and ran for the door, only to be flung away from it.

I hit the wall, with a loud ‘thud,’ before landing on the floor.

Tears welled up in my eyes after I groaned in pain. My back was definitely gonna be bruised.

I crawled for the door as fast as I could, but got violently dragged by an invisible force. I dragged my nails against the carpet.

Once it let me go I quickly rushed to stand up but got aggressively pushed against the wall. The side of my face slammed into the wall, as an unbearable pain shot through my cheek at the violent contact. A Bible flew through the air and hit me in the face. Blood dripped down my nose as I cried in pain. I heard loud knocking on my door and my eyes widened.

“Y/n!? Are you okay?!” A familiar voice shouted.

I tried to get to the door but cried out when a sharp, stinging pain shot through my back.

I sobbed, feeling myself get dragged once more before the entity let go. I jumped up and ran to the door, flinging it open. I was met with four concerned faces, three of them being un-familiar.

I sobbed into my hands, as the traumatic event played over and over in my head.

“What the fuck happened?!” Colby asked.

“Are you okay?!” The blonde boy next to him asked.

“Th-there was something in there!!” I cried out as a blonde girl rubbed my back comfortingly.

“Come to our room for a second. We’ll help you and you can tell us everything.” A black haired girl said, her brows furrowed in worry.

I nodded, following the two girls as the two boys checked my hotel room for anyone.

We entered their hotel room and I sat down on the red sofa.

The blonde girl brought back a tissue and a cold water bottle.

I used the tissue for my nose, after giving a small thanks. I placed the water bottle on the huge bruise on my cheek.

“I’m kris.”

“Celina. And the other boys are Sam and Colby.” Celina said.

“Th-thank you guys.. so much.” You smiled gratefully.

“What happened?” Sam asked.

“I-I don’t know… there was this thing and it-it threw me around like I was a fucking rag doll.” I joked a bit, before wincing from the pain radiating on my back.

“I-I think it scratched my back.” I added. Colby came over to me and asked if he could raise my shirt. I nodded and turned around while he lifted it up.

Though I couldn’t see, they all had wide eyes and opened mouths.

“Holy shit!” Sam exclaimed. “Y/n do you mind if I record this?” He asked kindly, okay with either answer.

“You can, I don’t mind, it just hurts really bad.” I said in a pained voice. “Colby can you take a picture of it and show me?” I asked softly.

He said yes before snapping a picture of it. I stared at the picture in shock, a giant bruise on my side and three, long, bloody scratch marks starting from my upper back and ending right before the waistband of my shorts.

“Holy shit” i mimicked sam just as he started recording my injuries. I turned around and showed the rest.

“Do you wanna stay in our room for the rest of the night?” Colby offered.

“Yes please.” I said, a pleading look lingered in my eyes. “I don’t wanna go back into that room.” Tears welled up in my eyes as Celina and Kris both side-hugged me.

“It’s ok, Y/n you don’t have to.” Kris said, her brows furrowed.

“You’re safe with us. Especially the boys cause they’re a lot stronger than us.” Celina joked, attempting to lighten the mood. I laughed a long, wiping my tears.

“Thanks guys.” I said gratefully.

“Anytime.” The group postponed further exploration of the building so they could make sure I was alright.

Celina and Kris called it a night, heading to their own room to sleep or try to contact anything.

I started to get sleepy while Colby was treating my wounds. “I’m tired.” I admitted.

“I’m almost done, just try to stay up for one more minute.” He applied ointment to the scratches and ice to the bruises.

I was definitely gonna tell the hotel about this in the morning. Even though some people wouldn’t believe me, it was worth a shot.

Once Colby was done in informed me of it and I crawled under the sheets and lied in the middle of the bed.

Sam and Colby lied on either side of me, and yet I still unconsciously cuddled closer to Colby.

“Goodnight.” I sighed, feeling safe with the two boys I had only just met.

“Goodnight, Y/n.”

—

The end.

#sam and colby #colby brock #crescent hotel #sam golbach #colby brock x reader #colby x reader #callmekris #celinaspookyboo #sam x reader #sam golbach x reader #callmekris x reader #fem reader #celinaspookyboo x reader #Sam and Colby #sam and colby x reader

[tobcoholic]

You make me feel like a fool

'friends to lovers' - Luke Castellan x neutral!Athena!Reader

words: 1.3k

summary: Luke has had you absolutely infatuated with him, to the point you can't concentrate cause he's all you think about even during capture the flag.

warnings: the use of 'beautiful' but meant in a neutral way, fluff :)

posted on: 28/02/24, Wednesday -> unedited !

—

'blessed with intelligence'—that's what everyone always said about you, one of Athena's greatest prides. Always as quick on your feet as you are with ideas, but one idea has been stuck in your head.

Your mind has been occupied by Luke for as long as you can remember. Things don't register as fast, things don't make much sense, and you feel like a fool. Simple tasks feel like navigating through a labyrinth blind, once earning praise as Athena's pride to struggling to puzzle sentences together when he walks past.

The other kids have noticed you staring at Luke at lunch with so much thought as if he were a puzzle to be solved. The Stoll brothers took notice and took it upon themselves to tell Luke. He turns his head to look at you, and you look away, though you had been looking at him like a fool.

"Hello? Are you even listening to me?" Annabeth snaps her finger in front of your face, making you turn to look at her without a single clue of what she's been saying.

"Of course, I have." "Of course, you have. What's our game plan for capture the flag then?"

You fix your posture; taking time to figure out what she could've planned. Annabeth raises a brow, some kids snicker while the others groan, "Uhuh, I can tell you've been listening."

—

"You know what you're doing?" Annabeth asked while looking at Luke before glancing at you for a moment.

"Yes ma'am." "Hey, today feel like a winning kind of day to you?" "I'll see you on the other side."

Luke walks away with you, following right beside him. You two have been good friends for a while; never in aeons would you ever think that you'd fall head over heels in love with him. But Aphrodite had other plans for you. You just looked at him one day and went 'oh', every step feels like it's getting heavier and heavier. The pride and joy of Athena now reduced to a teenager fumbling over a boy.

On the other hand, Luke has been infatuated by you for a long time. Your intelligence was the first thing he noticed—the way your brows furrow when you're thinking or the way you stick your tongue out slightly when you're concentrating or how you're always 3 steps ahead. Hell, he knew how you liked your orange to be peeled. He has always found the way you think and solve things very amusing—every single small detail.

Not long after the not-so-relaxing walk, you found yourself fighting alongside Luke, adrenaline taking over everything. The rhythm of your heart could be heard by everyone, but a lingering distraction tugged at the edges of your focus—Luke's presence by your side.

Not having your head in the fight did have consequences. You were knocked to the ground and had your sword ripped from you, but you swept their leg fast enough for them to lose their balance. Making sure you have enough time to grab your sword and leave them vulnerable on the ground. "We surrender!" the group leader shouted with her hands up, the others put down their weapons, going through with their surrender. You were constantly shoved to the ground, hit with the blunt side of people's swords, and so on throughout the entire game until Luke managed to capture the flag. Winning the game.

Bruises were forming on your legs and arms, and the familiar taste of metallic in your mouth. You looked like an absolute wreck, Luke took one look at you and winced as a response.

"They really put you through it today, didn't they?"

"Yeah, they did. Pride of Athena, who? Not me that's for fucking sure." you muttered, wiping the blood off the cut on your lip.

"Come on, let me take you to the clinic."

And so there you two were, at the clinic while the others celebrated their win. Luke rests against the door frame, patiently waiting for you to get that cut cleaned up. Once you were done, the two of you just sat right outside of the clinic. Watching how the moon reflects on the water while you look out over the lake. For once, everything felt peaceful. Everything felt like it was back to normal, no fighting monsters, no getting killed during quests. Just at home.

"So are you going to tell me how you got your ass kicked out there?" Luke tilted his head to make eye contact with you. He had never seen anything as beautiful as your eyes, and the moonlight just made them even better. Did he love you because you were attractive or did he think you were attractive because he loved you? He fell in love with you like raindrops falling from the sky, without knowing why.

"My head wasn't in the game; I was just thinking about other things. I'm fine." "We aren't playing two truths and one lie. Why have you been so out of it?"

You've been 'so out of it' cause you felt like a fool for being head over heels in love for some Hermes kid. What would your mother think? What would everyone think? What would he think? The thought of him looking at you differently already makes you want to tear yourself apart into tiny little pieces since you couldn't tear him apart like an idea. You've been so used to being able to tear people apart, learn about them, and use what you've learned to your advantage. But he's different, he was like the end of a ducktape that you can't find, he was like trying to put loose thread into a needle, he was like trying to puzzle a scent to a place. It felt impossible.

"You make me feel like a fool, Castellan." You pull your knees up to your chest, only the gods know what possessed you to say everything you were about to say.

"What?" Luke chuckled, raising a brow at you.

You stood up abruptly, pacing back and forth in front of him, "You make me feel like a fool waiting for you to talk to me or to smile at me or to interact with me or to even look at me! Gods, just your presence alone is enough to make me fumble!" your hands were all over the place, making gestures to get your point across.

Luke stood up and gently grabbed your hands, stroking them to get them to stop shaking. The way he held your hands with so much care made your brain cry while your heart muttered, 'I'm home'. "Keep going, I'm listening." "I saw that smile and suddenly every single thought was about you."

Luke reached up to touch your face, his thumb caressing your oh-so-perfect face as he leaned in slightly to brush a strand of hair away from your face before placing that hand to cup your face.

"My beautiful, beautiful, y/n. You've completely fallen for me, haven't you? But you aren't the only one who feels like a fool. Everytime your name slips out of someones mouth, my knees go weak." He whispered with that smiled that you fell for plastered on his face. You couldn't help but smile and nod at his words. He pulled you into a kiss, removing one hand from your cheek to place it behind your head as an attempt to deepen the kiss and keep you close to him. There are a million ways to bleed and you'll always be his favorite way.

Luke grabbed your hand and placed it over his beating heart, "I swear on the river Styx that I will put the world at your feet. I will love you as long as I love."

He thinks about you constantly, consistently, continually, you.

#percy jackson #luke castellan #luke castellan x reader #percy series #percy jackon and the olympians #pjo imagine #luke castellan fluff #luke castellan x athena!reader #pjo x reader #luke castellan x you

[moonit3]

Yandere! Backroom entity, could you make a yandere of any backroom entity or level? Please?

(I've never seen any Yandere backroom fic, maybe you're the first. It can be any entity or you invent your own, it's up to you!)

anons always have the brightest ideas for yandere writings. like would i have thought of audiente something like this? never, so that is why i have to thank this anon to come with this amazing idea.

THE MONSTER, THE WANDERER AND THE FARMHOUSE

➥warnings/notices: yandere, exophilia(?), liminal spaces(?), gn! reader, poisoning, drugs, obsession, acid, blood, reader is chained and cuddled by the entity, fluff(?).

➥ yandere! entity x gn! reader

➥ synopsis: trapped in a world that you don’t understand, you find yourself in a farmhouse in middle of nowhere with the presence of someone you can’t comprehend.

the recent disappearance of people around the country has raised drastically in the last decade and the government gives he same answer when someone goes missing, ‘there is no trace to lead to an investigation’ and unfortunately, they are right.

none one seems to understand how more than thousands people can simply vanish from existence, almost like they never exist in the first place. it’s creepy, scary and made those who remain become paranoid to even leave their houses, after all, it’s the only place they feel safe. however, they were wrong, this was a false sensation of safety and security. that’s why you have joined the static of the missing people.

yellow and molded walls that never seems to end, an old moist carpet and those irritable electric sounds that reminds you this isn’t a dream. nah, this the place you’ve been living for the past few days and despite walking for uncountable miles, it appears this place has no ending nor escape that will lead you to freedom, almost like this is a no end labyrinth.

if things couldn’t get worse, the food and almond water (where did those thing come from? you don’t recall it) are almost gone, meaning that you would have to go find more of it throughout the yellows walls or starve to death. yet, you aren’t going to give up that easily. you are going to survive this place and will find a way home to see your family again, but also to tell everyone what happens to those who simply vanished.

walking for even more hours, you find a wooden door. it’s look older than you and there is a unfamiliar smell coming from inside, could it be this path might lead to freedom? carefully, you turn the knob to see what is behind and of course, it’s only show a long hall that lack any source of light inside.

there is no way you are going inside. you are desperate to going home, but this looks like a trap to kill you instead of a ticket to escape this world, so you close the door and step away from it. too scared to be lead to a dead end, probably death. you continue to walk towards the unknown, hoping to find another way out of this.

okay, maybe getting through that door would be better choice in some possibilities. but you are happier you didn’t as this new place seems to be more safer and nice.

a farmhouse in the middle of the nowhere, surrounded by trees and grass from all sides with a small vegetable garden close to the house. did someone lived here? by the way the interior is decorated and the smell of flowers seems like it, yet no one is there. your only company is the wind.

you should’ve question yourself if the food was safe, maybe someone has poisoned before you arrive, but your stomach beg to devour the mini cake that was set in the table. the taste didn’t really matter as you wanted to stop the feeling of hungry and that what you did, the whole cake was gone in less than minutes and you couldn’t feel guilty because it.

what if someone was waiting to eat it later? oh, your body began to feel heavier. why are your vision becoming blurry? black spots began forming in your vision and it didn’t took much time to you succumb to the weird sensation, making you unconscious as your body hit the floor.

the smell of baking awakes you. someone is cooking and you are laying down on a bed? your eyes widen noticing it. someone must brought you here and the chain locked on your ankle is a way to proof it.

what? you try to remove the chain away, a failed attempt as the iron is too strong to be destroyed by a weak human like you. also, you immediately give up in trying as there is someone standing in doorframe, watching you.

a tall pitch-black figure stares down at you. its appearance reminds of those weird drawings around the yellow molded walls, warning to those who arrived about the dangerous being that live around in this world. it claws are huge, the emptiness eyes don’t blink and you can hear a soft melody coming from it lips, whatever is this thing, it looks like it will kill you.

“ha ha…” you try to get away from it, pushing yourself against the wall and closing your eyes as a way to pretend this isn’t real, just a mere nightmare that you will wake up soon, but then you feel it claws on your face….is this thing caressing you?

slowly, you open your eyes to find the huge creature kneeling to your height and having it shape claws touching your face in the gentlest way possible, almost like you are made of glass. you can’t tell if this thing is happy, the lack of a mouth makes it emotions almost unreadable, but the human-looking eyes shows kindness and compassion by the scared state you are.

the entity leaves the room for a brief moment before coming back with a piece of a pie and hand it to you, its look delicious and its smell good. the eyes stares at you, waiting for you to do something with the food.

“do you want me to eat it?” the thing nodded at your words, surprising you as he could understand what you are speaking while the non-dangerous anomalies you’ve encountered failed to do so. “okay, thank you for the meal.”

eating a piece of the pie, your eyes sparkled by the taste and you couldn’t help but eat more of it. the entity, in the other hand, watched you devour the food with his eyes gets smaller, analyzing your expressions and happy noises you are making while eating the food it has made for you. being so focused on the meal, you didn’t notice the thing approaching you at first, only feeling its hand touching your shoulder when you have the devour the entire food in minutes.

you can hear purring coming from it despite the lack of mouth, getting closer to your face and patting your head repeatedly.

the humanoid form get closer to you, changing it hand position to your face and making you stare at it. the empty eyes, almost human like, staring deep down at your soul as your head is forced to tilt to the side under it touch.

you can feel something fall over your clothes, its the black stuff that composes the entity’s body, “H-HEY!” you try to remove it away, but the weight of the entity’s body is too heavy to move it as it lay next to you, putting it arms around your body, bringing you to lay down on the bed along with it.

the head of the thing snuggles against your neck, not letting any centimeters separate the two of you as it is trying to remove any distance between your body to it. the entity doesn’t move, it stay still next to you as you try to get away from this place, but for now, you should just take a deserved nap.

closing your eyes, you could feel the entity stare at your with emptiness eyes one last time before your world faded to black. it’s look happy to have you in their arms.

@moonit3 writings

#yandere x reader #yandere oc #yandere #yandere x you #yandere imagines #yandere male #yandere writing #yandere headcanons #yandere headcanon #yandere hcs #yandere exophilia #yandere entity #yandere monster #yandere x gender neutral reader #yandere x gn reader #gender neutral insert #gender neutral y/n #gender neutral reader #tw yandere #yandere x y/n #yandere x darling #yandere original character #➥·˚ ༘₊· ͟͟͞͞꒰➳ moon writings #my oc the entity

[sunkendreams]

Dwayne or David facesitting. Period. Like, vampires don't need to breathe! Hell, let em stay down there for hours. Also, am I too gross or crazy to think about having fun during that time of the month? 🩸

blood moon.

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆. | dwayne (the lost boys) x fem!reader

𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐌𝐀𝐓. | drabble — requested.

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓. | 3.7K.

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒. | SMUT (mdni), dubious consent (mild coercion) cunnilingus, oral sex (f!receiving), reader is on their period, bloodplay (lots of it, he’s a vampire), facesitting, biting, hair-pulling, pet names (mama, girl, sweet girl), dwayne is hungry and he’s nasty, kissing, vampire antics, possessive dwayne, Dwayne is a little selfish in this

𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑’𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄. | wow ,,, a fic three days in a row ??? you can tell I’m hyperfixated because I’ll produce a ton of content very rapidly. Also, I love dwayne so much, he’s my daddy. ALSO — please keep sending me horny requests for the lost boys, I’m being fed !!! also, hello to all of my new followers & tlb fellows :)) love y’all and hope you enjoy!

A blood moon — it was a humorous term that your mother used to use for your menstrual cycle, something that you’d grown to despise with every fiber of your being. It was another unfortunate shackle of humanity, a reminder that you were still flesh and blood. Whenever your time of the month came about, you were always tempted to beg David for a sip of that forbidden wine.

The oppressive heat of the cavernous labyrinth that the boys dwelled within had felt somewhat comforting to you as you curled up on Dwayne’s makeshift bed, form contorted into the fetal position. A slow, agonizing pain spread throughout your lower abdomen, making your muscles feel weak and useless.

Sunset was just upon the horizon as you struggled to endure the suffering that you were forced into with each passing month. The mattress felt cool and smooth underneath your cheek, having abandoned the scattered pillows in favor of awaiting your demise. You wanted to sob, biting at the inside of your cheek, teeth scraping against flesh as your fists balled into the blanket.

Everything hurt — what began as a dull ache soon manifested into a pain that gripped your entire body. Your back was sore, head throbbing, and your insides felt as if they were being stirred around by the hand of another. You clenched your teeth, not wanting to move from your spot, anchored to your slice of space.

Once dusk fell, the vampires you’d been living with came to life, no longer hanging from the rafters of some dark, damp alcove. You could heat Marko and Paul’s guffaws and laughter, accompanied by David’s stern, tempered remarks. It all served as idle background noise, prompting you to close your eyes.

The noise dissipated — it was too quick for your liking. Silence settled in, save for the faint rustling of ambience within the cave, combined with something rattling around out in the remnants of the old lobby.

As much as you didn’t want to move, you sluggishly rolled out of bed, discomforted by the sensation of sloshing liquid rushing between your legs. It was the worst part of your cycle — the unpleasant sensations, the feeling of being wholly unclean. You draped a blanket around you, hobbling from Dwayne’s roost.

Strong, veined hands were buried within the grease-laden guts of a motorcycle, dismantling a variety of components. The vehicle was partially dismantled, stripped down to the metal underbelly. Dwayne’s dark tresses were disheveled from slumber, parts of scrap scattered around him. An elongated, metal screw was lodged between his teeth as he concentrated on his work.

He could smell you long before you’d crept into the lobby, but he hadn’t expected to see you in such a downtrodden state. Dwayne was often respectful of your space, especially during your cycle. It wasn’t something he would ever endure, but watching you writhe and suffer wasn’t entirely enjoyable, either.

“Dwayne?” You croaked, awkwardly shuffling across outcroppings of debris and dirt, draped in your shoddy sheet as you spotted your boyfriend. There was something beautiful about him, particularly when he practiced his hobby of playing mechanic. Specks of black oil lined his forearms and fingertips.

Without missing a beat, Dwayne turned to look at you, hazel hues drinking you in with reverence and concern. Dark brows furrowed together as he abandoned his current project, grabbing at the tattered, red cloth that rode around within his back pocket. “Hey,” That familiar baritone held a subtle warmth to it. “What’s wrong, Mama?”

You knew that he knew, but he still asked you nonetheless. As he swiped away at the oil and pungent grease, Dwayne stepped closer toward you, stooping down to press a kiss against the top of your head. You smelled wonderful, natural sweetness intermingled with that of your menses.

“Everything,” You exhaled, shuddering when his large palm splayed out across your back, rubbing soothing circles into your sore flesh. “Where are the others?” Admittedly, it was a bit unusual to see Dwayne alone without the company of the pack.

“Hunting,” Dwayne confirmed, and without hesitation, he hooked a strong, taut arm underneath your legs, hoisting you up as he carried you like a blushing bride. Cradling you against his chiseled chest, he made sure you were back in bed, where you belonged. “I was worried about you.” He confessed, laying you back against the mattress.

His throat was burning — a fire so intense that he wanted to scream, but Dwayne was rather talented at smothering his hunger for the good of another. His thirst would be extinguished soon enough, whenever he could leave the cave to find unsuspecting tourists. He sat down along the edge of the bed, hand massaging into your thigh.

Guilt rippled through you, knowing that Dwayne had abandoned the hunt to tend to you, this fragile human. His brows furrowed together — he must’ve been reading your thoughts. “I’m sorry. You should go feed.” You encouraged him, despite keening into the comforting chill of his hand.

Dwayne’s mind had gone elsewhere — there was a way that he could feed without having to abandon you. Of course, it was purely self-gratifying and your best interests were secondary to his starvation, which crawled across his stomach, burning a hole through him. He kept quiet, gingerly massaging your leg with his hand, which drifted towards the swell of your hips.

He didn’t like seeing you this way, agonized and letting yourself sit in the suffering. “If there was something that I could do to help, would you let me?” Dwayne asked, gazing down at you with an incendiary look. It was distinct, reminding you of the plethora of times he’d seduced you. Your stomach lurched, insides feeling as if they were withering away.

Your expression was somewhat quizzical, lips parting slightly as you reached for his arm. He was so much bigger than you — the strongest of the pack, urging you closer until his fingers could sweep away the hair framing your visage. That thick, coppery swarm of blood invaded his nostrils, singing his throat yet again.

“What do you have in-mind?” You asked, somewhat hesitant as he caged you in between his arms, bending down to press a hungry kiss to your lips. Sex was the furthest thing on your mind, but you relented, moaning into his mouth as you reached for his dark tresses.

Dwayne was a phenomenal kisser — passionate and slow, as if he were savoring every second of it. Though, he had a tendency to let it whirlwind into something ravenous and primal, fitting for the quiet, stoic vampire. He exhaled, kissing you with a thinly-veiled desire, hand moving to cup your jaw.

“Could take the pain away.” He uttered, withdrawing from your lips with an indiscernible expression. Dwayne was always difficult to read — endlessly complex, an enigma that you wanted to unravel. His mystique was always present, but you knew him better than most.

To you, it was an act of generosity — you were gullible, naive to Dwayne’s true intentions of feeding from you whilst making the ache fade away. Your heart fluttered within your chest, causing you to wet your lower lip. Dwayne’s thumb rubbed along your jawline.

“How?” With a soft gulp, you swallowed the growing lump within your throat, feeling his lips graze your jugular. His natural musk was enticing, often intermingled with the twang of stale copper and machinery oil. Dwayne shrugged his jacket off, bulky musculature engulfing you.

His shadow eclipsed any sliver of torchlight as he bathed you in darkness, gaze dusky as he gave you another deliberate kiss. Dwayne was silent, adjusting himself until he knelt at the foot of the bed, partially on top of you. His hand pushed against the inside of your knee, and that’s when you stopped him.

“N—No,” Your protest was weak, embarrassment rippling through your voice. There was something that felt inherently dirty to you, if Dwayne intended to follow through on whatever it was he planned on doing. “Dwayne, I don’t think it’s a good idea.” A shrewdness crept into your tone.

He read your mind — you thought he wanted sex. If you weren’t in so much pain, he would’ve been fucking you within an inch of your life by now. Dwayne’s chest rumbled with a brief chuckle, lips curling into a faint smile, pearlescent teeth glimmering against his caramel skin and stubble-coated visage. “Not like that,” He exhaled. “Something else. Help us both.” He murmured, stroking along your leg.

So that’s what he wanted.

Admittedly, you were a little nervous about the idea. He’d never insisted on feeding from you before, and certainly not in this manner. It sounded so crude and messy in your head. He’d bitten you, but never enough to cause any lasting harm. “I don’t know.” You mumbled, feeling another sharp, dagger-like jolt course through the pit of your stomach.

“It’ll make the pain go away,” Dwayne was gorgeous — like a chiseled god, crouched between your legs as he sought your consent. Of course, it was somewhat swayed through consistent persuasion, but there was something mutually beneficial to be found in this. “Let me.” His voice dropped to a husked octave, dripping with something amorous.

You were still hesitant, heart beating like a fluttering of a hummingbird, swift and constant, pounding just above your breast. Goosebumps coalesced along the length of your spine, crawling across your flesh like a tidal wave as he pressed a series of kisses against the inside of your thigh, face dangerously close to swarming forward.

“Okay, just — Just go slow.” Molten heat sloshed within your belly as Dwayne stalked forward, musculature parting your legs. He was so broad and strong, smooth underneath your fingertips as they brushed against his taut, veined forearms. He bracketed you in, arms like a cage as he kept you close.

Dwayne felt that blistering itch within his throat, the urge to feed, to savor the sanguine heat between your legs. He had no intention of being slow. Once the feeding commenced, it was difficult to stop. “‘Course, girl.” He nodded, dark eyes glued to your features as he flattened down against the mattress.

Sinewy hands curled into the waistband of your panties, slipping beneath the shirt you wore, one that didn’t happen to be covered in age-old blood. You were flustered, beginning to squirm as Dwayne peeled it all aside, menstrual pad included.

He rucked your shirt up, propped up on his elbows as his palms gripped at your hips so hard that it was sure to leave bruises. That smell of blood hit him immediately, scorching his throat and insides until it was all ash and dust. Dwayne was silent, broad tongue parting past until it drew along the length of your cunt.

Blood wept from your core, which felt uncomfortable for you, initially. You huffed, nearly sinking down into the mattress in a heap as Dwayne began to openly lap at your slit, drinking you in as if you were the most delicious thing he’d tasted. Your cunt clenched, nerves set ablaze as his nose bumped against your clit.

You tasted saccharine — coppery and vitriolic, but it was his sort of feast. Dwayne let out a grunt, lapping at the blood that oozed from your cunt, letting it linger upon his lips, invading his senses. Once he heard your sweet moans from above, he tugged you forward, a growl ripping through his chest.

Those aches and pains were sluggishly beginning to ebb away, soothed by the vampire who drank from between your thighs. It wasn’t as much as he wanted, but it was enough, tongue raking hot embers across your cunt as the pleasure unfurled within your stomach.

“Dwayne,” A blissful sigh escaped you, back beginning to arch off of the bed and toward his mouth. Your fingers clamored to hold on, finding their purchase amongst his tousled mane of jet-black hair. He’d eaten you out before, but not like this. There was the added element of blood involved. “D—Dwayne, don’t stop.” You whimpered.

Within the dim light of the alcove, those orange flickers of light from the small array of candles made his skin look like velvet. Those dark eyes never left you, pinning you in-place as he drank freely from your cunt. Your menses stained his mouth with red, tongue occasionally drifting from your entrance to your clit.

A burnished, golden sheen glistened within his eyes, hunger somewhat dissipating. He wasn’t satisfied nor satiated, intending to drink his fill — as for you, he suspected you’d have to endure his constant lapping and sucking until you were nothing more than a sobbing mess.

Your poor legs were quivering, wobbling on either side of his face as he steadied you, hands clamping down to keep you still. He idly massaged into the pliant flesh of your thighs, tongue assaulting your cunt with a viciousness to it. Crimson dribbled down his chin, but your flow was beginning to taper off from your prone state.

A myriad of throaty, wanton mewls escaped you, toes curling in delight as he gingerly suckled at your clit. The sensation was temporary, fleeting as his attention drifted elsewhere, tongue lapping at another slow-trickling rivulet of blood. Dwayne hummed, deep and gravelly, stubble tickling the sensitive flesh of your inner thighs.

It was only when he withdrew that you were babbling and stammering, wanting to know why he’d suddenly stopped. “W—Wait,” You whimpered, pitiful as ever, cunt aching something awful as he licked at his lips. Seeing Dwayne’s mouth and chin drenched in a darker shade of scarlet made you feel hot, heat creeping through your belly. “Please.”

His hearty chuckle made you irritated, but it was short-lived. You watched as Dwayne settled himself onto the mattress beside you, hues a vibrant gold, his countenance stained in your menstrual gore. “I’m not finished, pretty girl. Still hungry.” He reassured you, and plucked you up with two strong hands.

You were eternally grateful for Dwayne in that moment, who placed you on his chest. Without missing a beat, he bumped you forward, and you were gazing down at Santa Carla’s most stoic, vicious predator. An endless hunger danced within his eyes, soon to be quelled by the delicious blood that pooled between your legs.

Dwayne could tell that you weren’t expecting this, and it certainly made it all the more enticing for him. You were so smitten, his sweet little human. He’d fantasized about having you sit on his face until you were nearly unconscious, but this was all the more sweeter. Embarrassment flooded through you, but Dwayne seemed entirely unphased.

Initially, you were scared of hurting him, a notion that Dwayne found to be a little too innocuous. He could hear your heartbeat pounding away beneath your collarbone, thrumming like the beat of a drum as he lowered you back onto his mouth.

Your knees pressed into the mattress on either side of his head, dark tresses splayed out like a halo. With this newfound angle, you were staring at Dwayne — or more like, he was gazing at you. His tongue quickly invaded your throbbing cunt, blood catching on his lips. It was messier this time, making you tremble beneath his hold.

A liquid heat coursed throughout your body, pooling heavy within your stomach. Cruor oozed from your throbbing cunt, and now that you weren’t lying on your back, Dwayne was getting another taste. He continued to dutifully lap at your slit, ensuring that he didn’t miss a single drop of blood.

It sat thick and heavy upon his tongue, beginning to bring some semblance of relief to that raging fire that scorched within his throat. His pain was relinquished, and so was yours — a mutual exchange. Even then, he wanted more, digits digging into your haunches as he flicked his tongue over your clit again and again.

There was something disgustingly entrancing about the way he greedily lapped at your core, face buried deep within your cunt, hungry for your menses. If he wasn’t a creature of the night, you might’ve been somewhat indifferent to all of this, but he was bringing you such a wave of relief.

You wiggled your hips, accidentally grinding yourself onto his face, and Dwayne indulged you. As he lapped at another stream of crimson ichor, you moaned, chest heaving with heavy pants and wanton mewls, hands perched along the rickety, half-torn headboard.

“S—Shit,” You exhaled, tears stinging your eyes as you began to make that steady climb toward your climax. Dwayne didn’t stop, never relenting or slowing any movement as he lapped at your cunt, broad tongue swiping over every inch of your slit. The pleasure began to outweigh any pain you felt, muscles spasming. “Dwayne!” A whine left you, head rolling forward.

A deep, guttural growl emanated from Dwayne as it rumbled throughout his wide chest. It was mesmerizing to watch him from above, your hands splaying themselves along his bronze shoulders. His mouth drifted toward your inner thigh, and he looked to you, seeking approval before he bit you.

With a messy, lazy nod, your cunt throbbed and pulsated with molten heat, causing your nails to dig into Dwayne’s skin, hard enough to leave behind crescent-shaped imprints. Golden, crimson-ringed irises flashed in your direction as his countenance contorted into something inhuman, monstrously beautiful in your eyes.

Pearlescent fangs and pretty teeth sought out the pliant, soft flesh of your inner thigh, and he bit down — hard. It left behind the angry-red marks of unusual teeth as ringlets of a sanguine color trickled down your leg. Dwayne licked his lips, appraising you with an incendiary stare as he hastily collected every scrap of your lifeblood.

“M’close,” You whimpered, shuddering when he pressed a kiss atop the freshly-formed bite. His face promptly nestled back to the cleft between your legs, drawing another stream of your menses into his mouth before seeking your clit. “Close.” You said again, breathless and drunk with desire.

Dwayne felt his cock twitch within his jeans, able to smell your arousal through the haze of blood. The siren’s song of cruor was far more powerful, but even then, he could savor both with a feeling of sheer delight. His hunger steadily dwindled, fed by your saccharine cycle — if only you were like this all the time.

His lips formed a tight seal as he began to suck, causing you to nearly double over. “Don’t stop, Dwayne,” Perspiration began to break out along your body, coalescing along the length of your spine, dewy beneath the shirt you wore. “Please, please.” You were desperate, wanting to feel that white-hot explosion of a release.

Exhaustion settled in, your energy having been expended by keeping yourself aloft atop his face. Your cunt tasted sweeter than anything he’d had before in his centuries of existence. Dwayne considered you to be his fountain — a very captivating fountain. His touch screamed with amorousness as he rocked you into his tongue.

At last, your body began to quiver, muscles twitching and spasmodic as you climbed toward your orgasm. Dwayne could feel your weight fall a little heavier atop him, and he happily supported you, so long as you were bleeding. He added that edge of teeth, letting them graze over your clit with a feather-light pressure.

It sent you careening over the edge, cumming onto his mouth with enough mewls and moans to last him for days. It echoed throughout the alcove, and you were on the verge of sobbing, having gained some sliver of relief in the end.

Dwayne lapped at your cunt through it all, consumed by the shadow of greed and possessiveness. He could hear the rest of the boys clamoring throughout the cavern, which soured his mood just a little. They had a poor habit of acting up whenever you were enduring your menstrual cycle — understandable, of course, but an annoyance for Dwayne.

With a grunt, he gently nudged you back onto the taut, musculed expanse of his chest. His mesomorphic stature felt so solid underneath your pliant body, and your hands brazenly felt along his sternum. There was no heartbeat, forever frozen by immortality. His countenance was one of sheer satisfaction, lips and chin smattered in your blood as he licked at his mouth.

“Feel better, don’t you?” Dwayne mused, unable to withhold that little twinge of amusement in his voice. His large hand rubbed and massaged along your thigh, drifting up towards your hips, and then back down again on a continuous loop.

You nodded, feeling all warm when his body shook with a brief tremor of laughter. Dwayne sat up just a little bit, palm grasping at the back of your neck as he brought you forward for a very intimate kiss. A startled gasp tore through your throat, but he held you there, letting you taste yourself — ichor and all.

“Thank you.” Your voice was barely above a whisper as your entire physique hummed and buzzed with satisfaction. Of course, the ache of your cycle never fully dissipated, but Dwayne had certainly done his part in quelling the pain, for now.

Dwayne gingerly patted the swell of your ass, copping a feel in the process before pressing another string of kisses against your neck. He grabbed at the hem of your shirt, rucking it up a-ways. He was quiet, and you were fine with that, eyes widening as he wiped his mouth off with the remnants of your nightshirt.

Jesus — you knew better than to tempt fate, arousal stinging at your core again. You huffed, taking a moment to compose yourself as you attempted to reach for your panties. He intercepted you, snatching your wrist before your fingertips could even reach the lace trim.

“Not tonight, girl,” Dwayne uttered, placing you right beside him, bulky arm curling around your frame. He made you feel so safe — a glaring juxtaposition to his ravenous hunger and vampiric state.

You felt a pair of fangs tauntingly scrape over your jugular, able to feel the chill of his bare chest nudging into your back. “Might get hungry later.” He rumbled, pressing a chaste kiss against the back of your shoulder.

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[lazuruspit]

Dog Days Are Over — (m)

pairing: miguel o’hara/afab!reader  content warnings: unhealthy coping mechanisms, emotional baggage, established relationship, angst and smut in the form of cunnilingus, fingering, unprotected sex wc: 3.9k summary: Feeling broken following a particularly perilous mission, you find yourself hanging on by tendrils. Lucky for you, Miguel’s always there to pick your pieces back up. a/n: its come to this..... cant believe its come to this. i was debating posting this on my dc tumblr blog since this is comic centric but... whatever. enjoyyyy

ao3

Miguel’s muscles are tense. Rigid, tight, like a disciplined dancer. He’s hunched over his console, shoulders square and eyebrows taut. His jaw is tense, tongue rounded into the corner of his cheek, hair falling like spun-thread sable over his hooded eyes.

His fingers—dry, jaded, thick—curl around the lip of his instrument panel. His forearm flexes beneath the spandex of his suit, veins popping with the strength in which he grasps the dashboard. He grunts, eyes tired, and speaks without turning.

“I can feel you thinking over there,” Miguel rasps. 

You flush, a little embarrassed to be caught but– not surprised. Miguel’s constantly heedful; a predator perpetually stalking its prey. 

“Sorry,” you hum, resting your shoulder against the metal door of Miguel’s private room, jamming your hands in the pockets of your casualwear.

He slightly turns. “What are you doing, standing there? Come in, don’t act modest.”

Then the thick sensation of soiled cotton balls seems to fill your nose: you're here for a specific reason, and the very thought of letting Miguel in on that secret seems to seize your every thought.

“What is it, mi alma?” Miguel asks, gaze centred on a labyrinth of holograms of different Spider-People in different universes. Despite that, his focus—each of his five heightened senses—are attuned to you. 

So, after blindly sweeping the holograms away, Miguel turns to you, resting himself and his hands against the edge of his console. His body language reads of vulnerability—something he hopes you’ll do for him, as well. He can tell something is off.

You inhale, loiter your eyes across his body, then exhale. It’s rare to see Miguel in casual clothing at headquarters—rarer to others, but not so much to you. 

(Miguel always shows you a different side of him. Both figuratively and literally. You’re the only one he’ll bare himself to, let you see him jaded and threadbare after he was hit a little too hard.)

Miguel tilts his head, his band tee riding over his navel garnished with a brown scruff that disappears into his sweatpants, hanging low on his hips.

He slowly reaches out and traces your cheek. Miguel’s hands are rough—a testament to his decades of Spider-Man discipline—but the whispering caress with which he cups your cheek offsets that fact. He curls his lower lip out, pinches his eyebrows.

“ ¿Qué pasa? ” He asks, tucking a wisp of hair behind your ear. 

He’s gentle, so gentle with you, and you hate it. It makes it so much harder for you to say what you need to. 

Asphalt thickens and settles in your throat. You look away, and flinch at the cold absence of Miguel’s comforting stare. So you chance a glance back, and bite your lip as you study his concerned mien.

“You’re making me a bit nervous,” Miguel mirthlessly chuckles, struggling to fill the pregnant air.

“No, don’t worry,” you hurry, moving to hold Miguel’s cheeks, trace the streamlines of his numerous scars, “last thing I need is you worrying.”

“Well, with a little shit like you, I do a lot of worrying,” Miguel says, crossing his eyes to twirl a strand of hair around a finger, “I’ve already got grey hairs, mierda .”

His words carry no real malice, but still, Miguel’s words are only the shell of a joke. His eyes fog over as he says it. He’s referring to last month's injury: a deep slash running like a scythe of death against your thigh—something that almost was death—if it wasn’t for Hobie swooping in and tackling Earth-95’s Doc Ock to the ground before you bled out.

“Well…” you start, straightening– then wincing, upon being gravely reminded of your fresh wound that stretches and pulls, “you won’t have to worry for a little while… I’ll be out of your hair.”

Miguel’s eyes marginally widen. He pushes himself off the console, blinking a few times.

“Your grey hair,” you belatedly decide to tack on. 

“No,” Miguel shakes his head, brushing past your lame attempt at a joke. His pinched features sober into something a little more soft, and you’re regretful that you won’t get to enjoy it much considering the news you’re about to break to him, “What are you talking about?” 

You inhale sharply. “I’m… I’m going home for a bit, Miggy–”

And that’s the moment panic seizes him. Miguel stands up straight, his sheer body mass and height eclipsing your vision, and places his hands on your waist.

“No, you’re not, what are you–?”

“But I am, Miggy. I’m going home. Just for a little bit, okay?” It’s hard to keep the warble out of your voice. It’s hard to miss it, too.

(It’s not the warble Miguel has come to love. Not the one that billiards past your lips and into the shell of his ear, as his fingers are knuckle-deep nestled inside of you and crooked. It’s not the tight whimper he bullies out of you as he sinks his cock past your cunt’s first ring of muscle. It isn’t one of your kitten moans, when you puckishly curl into Miguel’s arm late at night, resting on his chest as you muse about everything and nothing. This is a new cadence—one he doesn’t like—one like the little cry of anguish that wafted past your lips as Hobie lay dead, a spot that should’ve been yours.) 

“Mi alma…” Miguel peters off.

You clear your throat. “I talked to Jess… well, we talked to each other…” 

Miguel hates where this is going. He also hates that the diablo on his shoulders asks, “why couldn’t she come to me?” instead of being glad you confided in someone at all. He furrows his brows, listening.

“We think– we think it’s best I just go home for a while,” you cough out a bland chuckle, “maybe she just wants me gone—and I can’t blame her—but… I think… I don’t know. Maybe you can give me some of Margo’s tech.”

“... Why not stay here?” Miguel says, with me, he so desperately wants to tack on, but he reminds himself that this isn’t about him. This is about you, and the slow supernova to your eyes. 

(He made the deaths of his fiancée and daughter about him. Miguel’s learned that moving on is finding a new flower to nurture, standing an arms length away to let it bloom.)

“... Okay,” Miguel whispers, “how… how long will you be gone?” 

You shrug, and Miguel’s face pains.

“That’s okay,” he hurries, trying a smile, “as long as you need, mi alma.” 

Miguel steps closer, pulling you into his arms. Strong, protective, warm… you’re inclined to slip into a dream, leave all your problems behind. 

“Just close your eyes,” Miguel whispers, running his fingers through your hair.

You bury your face in Miguel’s chest, choking back a tight, tiny whimper.

“Can’t,” you murmur, “I still see him.” 

Pain physically throttles Miguel’s heart at that. He wishes he could take away your pain, just as you had taken away his, and his breath, and all forms of cognition. But… he doesn’t know what to say to that. He doesn’t know how to say the right thing, let alone what the right thing is. So Miguel opts to plant a kiss to the crown of your head, where your unwashed face and brittle hair meet. 

You pull back after that, just scarcely enough to stare into Miguel’s eyes, wishing you could fall into them.

“Miggy…” you breathlessly utter, like a prayer, an olive branch of atonement, “I need…”

Miguel rests his forehead against yours. “What is it that you need? Tell me. Tell me everything.” 

You don’t tell, you show. Timidly. You rake your shaky palms lower, shucking Miguel’s crop top over your hands, placing a kiss to the corner of his jaw.

“Mi alma…” he lightly scolds, catching your wrist within his big palm, “not now.”

“Why not?” You croon, wrapping your arms over Miguel’s shoulders and behind his thick neck.

“We can’t,” he tells himself, more than you, “you’re…”

“Needy–”

“Not thinking straight–” 

“Wet.”

Miguel’s breath hitches. Right in the middle of his throat, it catches, tripping and tumbling out of his mouth as a tight cough. 

"Mierda..."

You lean in close, brushing your lips against his collarbone. “It’s what I need right now, Miggy, won’t you give me what I need?”

Miguel’s lips wrap around your name as he quietly whispers it. “I want to give you everything.” 

“So?” You say, forlorn, “Will you make me feel good?” 

“I’ll do anything,” Miguel whispers. It’s a promise; it’s atonement.

Miguel spins you around with his hands on your hips and bullies you backwards, trapping you against the lip of the console. He slides his palms on either side of your neck, cranes your head up, and plants a smooch to your lips. 

“Mi alma…” he mumbles into the kiss, slotting his thick thigh between your legs. 

Miguel kneads your hips and tugs you down on his leg, flexing it, guiding you back and forth as you grind your pussy over the strong sinews of his muscled thigh. You whine, clutching his shirt, and beg for more, a little sniffle crossing your swollen lips. 

Miguel runs his hands down, fingers biting into the fat of your thighs as he lifts you up, plopping you atop the control panel. From there, he nestles himself between your legs, and shucks your shirt (his shirt) over and around your head, moving to suck your neck. 

You shiver as his fangs graze your pulse point. You dig your fingers into his tousled hair and pull, mired in the sweet cacophony of Miguel’s moans, softened by the way his lips are pressed into your collarbone. He ruts his cock against the supple skin of your inner-thigh, baring his fangs as the cotton of his sweatpants reduces friction. 

Miguel comes up for air just as you sink your fingers beneath the hem of his sweatpants. You drag them down with sparse tugs, revelling at the sight of his cock that strains against the taut fabric of his boxer-briefs as his sweats pool at his feet. 

You sprawl your hand atop his dick and palm him softly, squeezing the fat mass of muscle that tents from his boxer-briefs. You peer up at him, doe eyes pleading, and Miguel sinks to his knees.

He cranes his neck up at you, musing a corporeal prayer to the altar that is your body, and kisses a trail up your flesh. Miguel latches onto your shorts and pulls them down, puckering his mouth before kissing your clothed clit. The excited bud pulses under the plush of Miguel’s lips, swelling, slick as your arousal oozes out of your cunt, sticking to your panties, outlining the barest hint of your soft pussy. 

After the kiss, Miguel shifts upward, and sinks his fangs into the gauzy material of your panties. He hooks it with his teeth, dragging the soiled fabric down your legs and off your ankles before lowering again, kneeling eye-level to the winking of your dewy cunt. You quiver and raise your legs, placing your feet onto the counter, baring your sticky pussy to Miguel, spreading yourself open with careful fingers.

“So pretty, my love,” he mumbles, popping drunken smooches onto the buttery inside of your trembling legs, “ todo mío .”

Miguel paints your thighs in a mosaic of love bites, inching towards the pulsing beat of your cunt as he settles in front of it, unfurls his tongue, and lays it flat against your folds. 

He licks a fat, warm stripe up your slit, growling as you coil your thighs around his full shoulders and thick neck and hasp him closer. You twist a fistful of Miguel’s dark hair between your fingers, pulling him closer, meagrely grinding your sweet clit against his cracked lips and the bump on his nose.

(You always did tell him he lacked vitamin D, needed to eat more oranges. Miguel thought it was fruitless—that you kissing him, having your chapstick smear against his lips, would be ample moisturiser for his dry mouth.

You had to force the serums on him. Miguel gets too caught up in his web of responsibilities and thawed regrets, oftentimes neglecting himself. So you clutch him by the jaw, the rough flesh of his half-sunken cheeks from empanadas in the cafeteria spilling over your fingers, and smooth some of your chapstick onto his lips. It’s cute, he gets nervous; reverting his stare to the ostentatious ceiling of HQ and sticking it there, too shy to meet your gaze as you get too close.)

Miguel pulls away for air, a wash of your precum glistening his chin. He darts his tongue out to clean it up—a fang peeking out in the process—winking under the lustre as it catches the light. You whine at the loss of Miguel’s tongue buried between your folds, inclined to use your web shooter to stick him back in place.

But Miguel’s quicker. “Patience,” he says, placating you with a kiss, letting your taste percolate into your mouth as he cards his tongue past your teeth.

“We’ve got to stretch you open first, don’t we? Hm?”

You loosely nod, breathless.

“That’s right,” he says, “it’s always quite the tight fit.”

Miguel stands between your legs and eclipses your world, readying his thick fingers by running them between your folds, lubing them up.

“Ready for me?” He asks, looking through your eyes and into your soul.

You answer with a kiss—one that says so much more than yes . It’s a barter, where you hand your life over to Miguel, and a promise to find him in every universe. 

Miguel’s lips tilt up in a fickle smile as he sinks a large finger in, followed by another, moving to rest his forehead against yours.

“I hate you,” he whispers, pumping his fingers in-and-out, “for making me weak, making me break my promise.”

(As Miguel’s inflexion weakens, he hides his face in the crook of your neck. It’s obvious what promise he’s talking about: the vow made to the corpses of his child and fiancée. That he wouldn’t move on, that he’d turn black and blue in the name of penance. 

But then you came along; crashing into his world like the luminous death of a star. 

And just like it, albeit destructive, powerful and bright, he couldn’t look away.)

Miguel continues, blindly sweeping at your clit, rolling his jaded thumb over it as he scissors you open.

“I hate you for leaving me,” he finishes, crooking his fingers a little deeper, a little meaner , into the warmth of your pussy. 

“I– I’m not…” you pant, too caught up in Miguel fucking you with his fingers to form a better defence.

“I know,” he nods, his forehead still pressed against yours—a tender blip in the streamline of his fingers’ thrusts, “you’ll come back when you’re better, and things will go back to normal.”

Miguel buries his fingers knuckle-deep, pawing and circling at the sticky walls of your pussy.

He rolls your clit with a deft thumb and latches onto your neck, biting and kissing.

(The nipping is a sign of defiance from Miguel, the reluctance of letting you go, and the kissing… because he’s seen the catatonic look in your eyes. Your face—usually sweet, albeit scarred—leaden with guilt as you broke the news to the Spider-Society.

Guilt doesn’t look good on you, Miguel decided. Only puckish smiles. Only sheepish glances.)

Just your face, moulded into extreme pleasure as your orgasm draws close, eyes squeezed shut and nails digging into his flexing forearm. That’s what looked good on you.

Miguel doesn’t fasten his pace as you tail your orgasm. Just keeps thrusting his fingers, thumb pressing into your clit, lips sweetly trailing your jaw.

He curls them once more, pushing the pads of his fingers deeper, into the squishy-spot inside you that has your jaw slacking, head tipped back, baring your neck, and your orgasm cresting to new heights.  

Miguel’s keenly aware, pouncing onto your pulse-point and licking the sheet of sweat off of your skin as he keeps finger-fucking you, walking you through your orgasm.

“That’s it,” Miguel praised, lending you his broad shoulder as you quivered.

(The two of you have been in this position before—vulnerable, trembling, except those times you were bonding over the rigours of vigilantism and regret and baring the skeleton’s in your closet to each other, not panting from the tremors of your orgasm.)

“More,” you whined, cupping Miguel’s face, acutely aware of the absence of his cheeks—sullen, instead.

Miguel tries a smile and slides his hands under your thighs, picking you up, carrying you over to a low table, setting you down.

He bullies you onto your back and nudges your legs open with his knee, brushing his knuckles over your clit. The bud is still sensitive, so you flinch under Miguel’s touch. 

(A part of you always thought he was bad for you. Miguel was your becoming, but…

he also was your eventual doing.)

“My girl,” he mumbles, “my pretty, pretty girl. Te amo.”

(You ask yourself… why does your response get stuck in your throat?)

Miguel pulls away, only marginally enough to tug down his boxer-briefs. The fabric stretches against his thighs as his cock springs out, softly slapping his navel, red and leaking precum, solid, angry , standing tall.

He holds your gaze as he gives his dick a few jerks, heavy balls lightly bouncing as Miguel steps out of his boxer-briefs, sets your calves atop his shoulders, and cuts his fingers into your thighs.

“Do you need me? As bad as I need you, mi alma?” He asks, and it’s obvious he isn’t just talking about sex.

But you nod, silently because you don’t trust yourself—you don’t think you ever have—and edge yourself closer to the lip of the table, egging Miguel on.

He expels a breathless chuckle, and slips his heavy dick between the fat of your cunt, rubbing himself with your dewy folds.

“ Mierda… ” he grunts, slapping his cock against the velvet of your inner thighs, “you drive me fucking crazy.” 

You smile lazily, wrapping your legs around Miguel’s lithe waist, beseeching him with rolling hips and pleading eyes for him to just fuck you already . 

Miguel smiles as he sinks the fat head of his cock past your tight ring of muscle, his face squeezing into pleasure.    

He keeps going—slowly, filling out your every ridge—until he kisses your pelvis and almost folds you in half. You’ve never felt so full . Miguel makes a home in your tummy, pressing down on your navel as he feels for his cock, feels it pulse and throb in your pussy. 

Miguel pulls his hips away, and you throw your head back as his cock drags along your walls, his fingers toying your clit. He lowers over you, folding you in half and into a press, leaning down to catch you in a kiss. 

This way, Miguel eclipses your entire world. Your lips, your sex, your every inch; he’s your body’s beginning and end.

Miguel slams himself back inside of you and you squeal. It’s jarring—how gravely different Miguel’s fast-paced, desperate thrusts are to the gentle way he holds your face to his, peppering kisses on your cheeks.

He presses so close, as if trying to mould your souls into one. His mutated DNA comes out at this time—like clockwork—and he loses composure, clawing you close, hips snapping into you as he growls into your neck.

His thick brows furrow, full lips tightening, beads of sweat running down his sinewy back that you scrabble at as an outlet for the sharp thrusts Miguel drives into your wet cunt. Your walls flutter around him and you swoon, his hands sneaking under your shirt, running over your pebbled nipples, tweaking them between his jaded fingers. 

“Miggy–” you whine, twisting tufts of his hair in your hands, digging your nails into his muscly shoulders, “I want it all, please. Please give it to me.”

Miguel feels himself tiptoeing the edge of sanity. Yes, a thousand times yes, he’d give you anything you ask. His life, if you wanted it; his heart served on a silver platter; his skin, his bones, his cartilage. 

But Miguel knows what you mean. Because he wants it too. That primal little scratch at the back of his head kindles to life just as Miguel feels his balls tightening. When he feels you clench down on him, back arching, he can tell you’re close too. 

(Miguel knows you well. A little bit more than he’d like to, because he could see the exact day the light left your eyes. How they didn’t light up again upon seeing him. 

And Miguel chose to ignore it.)

He holds you a little closer, weaving his fingers with yours, grunting against your lips. 

Your orgasm washes over you as the sea extends into the sand. It’s all at once cold, blistering, and envelopes you whole, leaving no room for thought of anything else. You squeeze your eyes closed as you gush over Miguel’s cock, panting, rutting your hips up and meeting him halfway as he empties his balls inside of you.

“There we go,” Miguel breathes, pushing his cock into you a few more times until it can’t possibly go any deeper, filling you with his seed, “that’s it.”

You stare at each other as his cock softens inside you. It’s left to marinate a bit, still lightly pulsing, throbbing within your sensitive cunt. Then, Miguel shoves his face into your clavicle, noses your sweaty flesh, and deeply inhales. 

He wants to remember your scent, the last moment you shared before you returned to your universe for however long you needed to be there. 

(Your scent isn’t your usual one, though. Usually it’s sweet. Salty if it’s after training. But today it’s tangy—bitter. Miguel doesn’t like it, but he inhales nonetheless, damned if he’d let you go before committing this moment to memory.)

Miguel pulls away, an unstable smile gracing his lips. He works himself back into his sweatpants and helps you get dressed, nerves coiling in his stomach. 

When you turn to look at him, fully dressed, eyes dark, he gulps.

Miguel walks closer, sets his hands on your waist.

“When will I see you again?” He asks.

“Before you can say the word S-Man .” 

Miguel folds his lips, but nods. 

You look down at the watch secured to your wrist, fighting the scowl that betrays your emotions. It looks like a house arrest brace, and you suppose it's not that far off, either, holding you down in place. Constantly. 

But you key in your Earth and stare as it projects a kaleidoscopic threshold before you, twirling with golds and greens and whites. 

You turn to Miguel and step closer, eyes welling up as you set a palm to his cheek, kissing him. 

(It’s cursory, Miguel thinks. Because you’ll come back one day, finish what you started; finish the kiss, Miguel tells himself.)

You turn around and walk into the egress, a weight lifted off of your shoulders; the weight transferred to Miguel.

The portal closes, and your smell hangs thickly in the air.

With you, you had taken the rest of Miguel’s heart.

And he hasn’t gotten it back.

That was the last time he ever saw you.

#miguel o'hara x reader #miguel x reader #miguel o'hara smut #miguel o'hara x reader smut #marvel x reader #miguel o hara x reader #across the spidervse x reader

[del-thetiredwriter]

Pomegranates

— So here’s a one shot. Beware my English. Not exactly like greek mythology.

Toga: the loose outer garment worn in public by citizens of Ancient Rome.

Warnings: mentions of death, Ancient Greek timeline, God of dead Idia , gn reader , mythological theme…

First he turned right, then left around the corner... A groan came from the blue-haired boy, who was looking for the exit from the walls formed by blue rose bushes.

“Ahh, I think I'm lost!” he groaned.

They say curiosity killed the cat, and Ortho succumbed to his curiosity.

His brother used to come to this garden regularly every day, but no one was allowed to enter the garden except his brother. No matter how much Ortho asked his brother, no matter how much he insisted, his brother would still not let him enter the garden and would not tell him what he was doing in the garden.

Ortho took the opportunity of his brother going to Olympos and secretly entered the garden and got lost.

He had come to a crossroads again. While he was nervously thinking which one he should choose, a voice distracted him.

"Who are you?"

Ortho turned around in panic. He didn't expect to see a soul staring at him with a dull expression.

“Oh, hello.” said Ortho timidly.

He was frightened by the piercing gaze of the person in front of him.

"Who are you? And what are you doing here?”

The spirit approached him.

“Well, I'm Ortho… and I'm actually lost.”

The soul raised an eyebrow.

“Don't you know that you should not enter this labyrinth, child? You're lucky, come with me and let's get you out of here."

The sprit took his hand and they wandered back and forth through the maze of trees and bushes.

The sprit did not speak. So there was an awkward silence. There was only the rustle of the grass they were stepping on.

“Um I guess you know the maze pretty well?”

Ortho asked to lighten the mood. But the spirit did not answer.

“Do you live in this labyrinth? What is your name? How long have you been here? Who are you?.."

He started asking questions repeatedly.

The spirit finally spoke.

“But you turned out to be talkative. Unlike you, he can't even put two words together properly." They said in a whisper.

Finally the spirit stopped. They reached a door. To the entrance of the labyrinth.

"We came. Don't even think about coming here again. You were lucky this time that I found you, but you may not be so lucky next time."

They let go of Ortho's hand. The blue haired boy started walking towards the door. When he reached the doorway, he stopped and turned around.

“Can you at least tell me your name?”

The spirit looked at him expressionlessly.

“What will you do if you know? After all, we won't see each other again. Anyway, my name is Y/n and don't ever come here again.”

This was the first encounter between Ortho and the spirit named Y/n.

–

“Y/N! Where are you !"

Ortho had entered the garden again. He wanted to talk again to the spirit that showed him the way when he got lost during his first entry.

That spirit was different. Normally souls come to the underworld after death. Depending on their life on Earth, they would be sent to Elysium, the Fields of Asphodel, or the Fields of Punishment. However, this soul was in his brother's garden...

He was going around random turns, screaming your name. And in the end, he arrived at a place like a garden, without even knowing how he did it.

“Y/n!”

As soon as he saw you, he ran to you with excitement.

You were lying on a sofa with lots of cushions and pillows. There was a flowing river right next to it, and many flowers and trees around it...This place looked just like the riverside in the forest where the protagonists of Ortho's favorite fairy tale met.

You opened your eyes slightly.

"You again? Didn't I tell you not to come here again?" You scolded Ortho.

“But look, I found you. And this place is beautiful.” Ortho said as he approached you.

"Beautiful? Phew! Is this place beautiful? “You said curtly.

“Yes, look, it's very nice. There are roses, magnolias, grapes… and oh, pomegranates too! I love pomegranates, how about you? “ said the child while plucking the pomegranate from its branch.

“I used to love…” said the soul bitterly.

“Umm, shall I tell you a story?” said Ortho to digress.

The spirit did not answer, but Ortho accepted it as a yes and sat down on the sofa next to the spirit.

Once upon a time, there was a lonely king. This king was smart and strong, but he was also lonely. He had no friends or family... Anyway, one day, the king disguised himself and mingled with people, and a person caught his attention. This person was not very beautiful, very smart or perfect, but something attracted the king to this person. After that, the king started to watch this person constantly. Their daily routine, what they eats, what they likes, what they does...

One day the king could not stand it and went to the forest where that person lived. He wanted to see them closer.

–

You went down to the stream to get water. As you started filling the buckets with water, you felt a pair of eyes watching you. When you looked around, you saw someone with blue hair and a black toga watching you from afar.

“Hey young master, are you lost?” You called out.

The man looked around, frightened and not knowing what to do.

You moved towards him.

“Young master, are you lost?” You asked again.

“Oh um…I-“

You smiled.

“You seem to be a high-ranking person, what is someone like you doing in this forest?” You said.

The blue-haired man was mumbling something, but nothing could be understood.

“I'm Y/n, I live in this forest. Would you like to come to my house? “ You suggested. You haven't had any guests in a long time, in fact you never had.

"O-okey.” The young man said in panic.

"How nice. By the way, what was your name?”

“Idia”

–

From that day on, the king started to visit that person, always hiding his true identity. The king was happy, but his happiness did not last long. One day, a seer came to visit the king.

–

“You are not in that person's destiny, God of the Dead Idia. They have different life cycles in their thread of destiny. However, if you want, I can give you the thread. If you cut the thread, their fate will be like an unclear water. You can shape it the way you want and even be completely you in their destiny. ” said the god of prophecy. And he handed the thread to Idia.

Idia hesitantly took the thread. Could he really cut this thread, which symbolizes the happy future of his beloved, because of his own greed? But if he cut it, he would be the fate of his beloved.

Idia would visit the mortal you every day but that week he didn’t.He locked himself in his room and just thought about what he should do with the thread.

–

And the king finally gave in to his greed and cut the thread.

–

“Oh Idia, where have you been? I was very scared that something bad had happened.” You said while hugging him.

You were very worried when you didn't hear from him for a week.

“I brought pomegranates. From my own garden.” Idia said as he handed you a basket full of pomegranates.

“You are forgiven. I like pomegranates.”

After that, Idia started bringing you pomegranates every time he came. The pomegranate was Delicious, juicy, sweet... but slowly your health began to deteriorate. Headaches, coughing blood, nightmares... You only felt good when you were with Idia.

But how could you know that the pomegranates are from the underworld’s garden? If a god or a spirit eats it, nothing will happen, but if a human eats it... they start to die slowly. First headaches and nightmares, then they begin to see spirits that humans cannot see, and eventually they die.

-

“Agh!” You screamed in pain. Your heart was tightening and it hurt like crazy, like you were being stabbed.

Idia came running to you.He had a dark liquid in his hand. Pomegranate juice.

“Y/n, are you okay, are you having an attack again?” He helped you get up. He placed you on your bed.

“Oh gods,” you groaned.

“Here, drink some. It will make you feel better..” Idia said and handed you pomegranate juice.

“No… no I don't want to.” You said.

“Come on, for your health.” insisted Idia.

“Just one sip.”

Idia helped you drink. It was sour. Then you couldn't breathe and you closed your eyes. You dropped the glass full of pomegranate juice. It was spilled on you.It looked just like blood.

You were dead.

"I am sorry…I'm sorry for loving you. But I had to. I’m sorry, Y/n.” Idia said with a shaky voice and hugged your dead body.

–

“Then they lived happily ever after .” said Ortho and finished the story.

"How was it? It’s good isn’t it? This is my favorite fairy tale. My brother told me.” Said Ortho

But Y/n didn't answer.

“Come on, it's late, let's take you back.” Said the Spirit.

“So early?” The boy whined. He took the spirit's hand and they moved towards the exit under the soul’s leadership.

“Um Y/n I was going to ask you something. Will you come to us tomorrow? I don't know if I'll find you next time.” said Ortho innocently.

“No…I'm sorry Ortho, but I can't leave this garden, but if you want to come again, come with your brother.” Said the Spirit sadly, as if something tying them to this garden.

And they said goodbye again.

-

“So? How was your day?" Idia asked his little brother.

“Good, as I said before, I made a new friend. There I was with them and I told them my favorite story." Ortho explained with excitement.

“Is that so…by the way, what was your friend's name?”

Idia asked.

“It’s Y/n.”

#yandere twisted wonderland #yandere twst #yandere #yandere twisted wonderland x reader #disney twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #disney twst #twst #idia shroud #yandere idia shroud #twisted wonderland idia #idia x reader #twst idia

[misc-obeyme]

Hihi can I request a Barbatos and MC with severe depression? Like they have a hard time getting out of bed, showing, and Barbatos helps them if that's okay? Also please take care of yourself! I'm proud of you for taking a break!

Hi, anon! It's definitely okay! I did say in my writing update post that I'm accepting small drabble requests! And thank you, I'm definitely doing much better now! 💕

I used a lot of personal experience for this one, but I've been there and it's hard not to use those feelings when I write. Anyway, I hope it turned out okay!

Barbatos sees the mound of blanket slowly moving up and down with your breathing. It's a relief to see that minuscule movement - an indication that you're still holding on. He sits down on the edge of the bed, knowing that his weight moving the mattress will alert you to his presence. Even so, you don't stir.

He can't see you. The blankets cover most of you. The only thing visible is the top of your head, your hair greasy and in disarray. He knows you haven't showered in days. He knows you haven't left your bed in days except to go to the bathroom. You'll sneak into the kitchen in the night to eat. Sometimes you're awake and scrolling mindlessly through your D.D.D. But mostly you simply sleep. A space of oblivion where you don't have to feel anything when you're feeling everything far too much.

Barbatos reaches out a hand toward you. He hesitates. He knows you're aware of him, that you're awake in that moment, though keeping your eyes closed. He knows you don't want him to see you. He knows that it hurts you to see him. He knows that you don't want to look at him and see pity.

But Barbatos is a master at portraying no emotion aside from the one he very deliberately means to show. All you will see when you look at him is love. Because he will allow nothing else.

Barbatos settles his gloved hand on your back.

He waits.

Eventually you squirm beneath his touch, a subtle indication that you don't want him to be here.

"I will not leave until you speak to me," Barbatos says. He keeps his voice soft, but with a firmness that he hopes will impart to you how serious he is.

You mumble an incomprehensible acquiescence and he takes it.

"Tell me what you need," he says, keeping his tone even and neutral.

There is a long silence.

And then you sit up and look at him. The blanket falls from your shoulders. You have dark circles beneath your eyes and your stare is hollow, but for a tiny spark of surprise.

"You're not going to scold me?" you ask. Your voice is so ragged it nearly breaks his heart.

He reaches out to brush his fingers across your cheek, wishing for the first time that he wasn't wearing his gloves so he could feel you. "You have done nothing wrong, my love."

You bite your lip, hard. He wants to reach out, to pull you to him, to kiss you, to make you stop before you break the skin. But the tears that have formed in your eyes stop him. He's too cautious, still uncertain about what you need in this moment.

He learns his worries are unfounded the moment you collapse into his arms.

Barbatos holds you, rubbing gentle circles on your back as you pretend you aren't crying as hard as you are. You cling to him and the heaviness of your grip feels like solidity to him. Like you aren't slipping away, like you're still his, like maybe he can simply be whatever you need after all. It's all he wants.

So when you've cried yourself out, he asks you again. He asks you to tell him what you need. And you do. And he gives you whatever it is you ask for. It takes some time for you to find your way out of the labyrinth of sadness again. But Barbatos is there to guide you through every turn.

masterlist | Thank you for reading!

#mmm I just think he would understand #he would take care of you #however you asked him to #if someone simply asked me what I needed #it would have made a world of difference #sorry getting too personal in the tags lol #obey me #obey me nightbringer #obey me barbatos #om barbatos #obey me barbatos x reader #om barbatos x reader #obey me barbatos x mc #om barbatos x mc #obey me! #x reader #request #misc writes

[deandoesthingstome]

Labyrinth Fantasy

Pairing: Minotaur!Sy x Reader

Summary: There's a new hotel in town. You now know it's for real and you need more.

Word Count: 5.7K

Warnings: 18+, NO MINORS, cunnilingus, p in v (standing and reverse standing cowgirl), monster fucking (right?).

Fantasy Hotel Masterlist

You'd recounted enough of the details to convince your online benefactors that the investment was worth it, but kept enough to yourself to make the experience truly special.

Like, you didn't mention the time stretch at all. Though you had been wondering why the hotel even offered longer booking sessions if the hosts could just snap a finger and keep you satisfied forever. You felt only mild guilt about keeping the image of naked human Walter to yourself. They didn't need to know how good he looked NOT as a monster. You were keeping that for you own private thoughts. But you were bemoaning your current funding situation.

sendmeanangel: ugh, I'm never getting back there!!! MNstrluvr: Listen. There's a way. sendmeanangel: how? I can't get any more shifts at the restaurant. MNstrluvr: let us open a Patreon for you sendmeanangel: I'm NOT giving a recount of this event to total strangers darkgothnightengale: you have no idea who we are sendmeanangel: you are NOT total strangers. I know your favorite coffee and what you're studying at uni and your top 10 comfort movies. I know how you got that scar on your hand. darkgothnightengale: yeah but you didn't know that until you asked. Up to then we were total strangers who loved your work. Just like everyone on Patreon will be only they'll be paying MNstrluvr: yeah and you don't have to tell it to them like you told us. Put a different spin on it. Don't make the story from the perspective of the hotel. Make it a true fairy tale. Red riding hood in the woods and shit. Make him your boyfriend, The Woodsman, who's ready to show you his secret this fine full moon evening. sendmeanangel: oh my goddddddd!!! darkgothnightengale: yeah, but put all the most important details of him in Sendmeanangel: you just want to read about his massive cock splitting you open again darkgothnightengale: i have my needs. Besides, I just mean those details you only know now because you experienced it. You have something to draw from, something to make it real for everyone MNstrluvr: seriously, meana, do it. You will make so much money. You should have been putting your other stories out there long ago but this you can post and sell cause it'll be completely your own content with no re-imagining of existing characters sendmeanangel: okay, but you gotta beta the shit out of this for me. I can't have it sounding like I'm just recounting the whole thing from last night's fuck session with my partner MNstrluvr: 😆 🤣 😂 😹 darkgothnightengale: oh my goddddddd!!!! MNstrluvr: anyway we already created an account. We'll add your email and send you the password reset so you can run it and transfer the money to your bank whenever darkgothnightengale: and as always, no pressure on timing other than knowing you need the money to get back to Walter but I can't wait to read this! sendmeanangel: what if he's not available?

As you clicked Reserve something caught in the back of your mind.

Would Walter care you weren't coming back to see him?

How could he? You spent two hours (or was it more? You could never figure out the time swap calculations) together. You weren't even sure if that was his real name. Sure, you fantasized about him when you got home. You'd been in a fog of post-orgasmic bliss when you saw him in his human form, but that didn't stop you from cataloging every inch you could. Imagining snuggling next to his enormous and furry body wasn't hard.

It was this domestic bliss scene you'd eventually settled on as the opening to your "boyfriend's werewolf confession during an evening walk in the woods" fic that you posted on Patreon. The feedback had been a dream come true.

While the income wasn't as plentiful as you'd hoped, the wages and tips from your extra shifts allowed you to book another stay the following month. Walter was indeed not available on your only open day of the week so you sought out another option and found a four hour time slot with a new-to-you creature.

The listing called him Captain of the Guard.

Something about this fantasy made you select the box at check in specifically requesting your host enter in form. You had missed this at your previous visit, and as you thought back to meeting Walter, you appreciated the gentle way he eased into the scene. But you wanted a little more…mystery? Suspense? apprehension this time. The front desk clerk told you your host's name was Sy, and sent you down to a lower level of the hotel. The only key he provided was the code you punched into the elevator number pad to allow you to press L3. 

When the doors opened, you entered a small, rustic room with a hard dirt ground and cool stone walls. You only saw one other door besides the elevator you just stepped through and your mind did some mental gymnastics. Was that the exit to the maze or a bathroom? If it was the bathroom, where was the maze?

A few benches were scattered around and sitting on one was the Offering Tray you purchased, along with a note telling you to dress or undress to your level of comfort and step out into the hall through the door opposite the elevator when you were ready. Okay, door to maze then. But your nervous pee sensation was building. Where was the bathroom???

You knew the elevator was locked after you exited the car, but the note also contained the return code you were welcome to use any time, even before your reservation was over. And the note also revealed the secret to locating the washroom around the corner of one of the walls that you now noticed didn’t quite reach the next wall, causing a little optical illusion that the room was a simple square with no other space. Clever. It reminded you of a scene from a fantasy movie you’d seen when you were younger.

You peed and then undressed for a quick rinse in the surprisingly warm shower. You had imagined the temperature of the liquid streaming over the mini waterfall in this rock room would be ice cold, but it was as if the water was heated to a constant, perfect temperature from a thermal spring. The floors were warm on your bare feet too. You almost had to tear yourself away. There was a fantasy to be had.

You hung your street clothes on the garment hooks and pulled your red cape from your bag. You had researched a few different costume options and came across a clever way to fashion a toga of sorts from the material, albeit a slutty red toga with a giant slit up one thigh. You didn’t bother with underwear this time either. After one last look in the mirror to make sure your nerves weren’t showing too badly, you gathered up the offering of cured meat and stepped into the hall.

The rough hewn stone walls were at least three feet higher than the room you’d just exited. You noticed shelves jutting out occasionally at various heights and made a mental note not to run into them. Not that you planned on running. The ground was soft and sandy, rather than hard packed earth. Even in bare feet, this was going to make running hard. Again, not that you’d planned on running. 

Now, which direction? Left was always your gut instinct so you followed the path in that direction, choosing a left turn anytime you came to an intersection. After dead-ending twice in about five minutes, you began to rethink your approach. While you figured it had be wise to build in some extra time to find your treasure, you didn’t want to spend four hours in a fucking maze alone. 

As soon as you made the next right, the air shifted. The hairs on the back of your neck stood at attention and a ripple of goosebumps grew up on both arms. You made a few more turns before you began to hear snorts and huffs in the distance. For a moment, you froze, unsure if you wanted to move toward or away from the beast. Not because you didn’t want to meet the beast. But only because you truly couldn’t decide how. Sneak up and surprise him? Or let him chase you?

A new roar announced he was getting closer and you made a snap decision to turn away. Let him find me.

You maybe delayed the introduction by a few minutes. He was adept and clearly knew this maze inside and out while you were still trying to find your footing. You were just about to turn a corner that looked surprisingly familiar when you felt a rumble and the sand shift beneath your feet before you heard a snort and few stamps on the ground.

“Turn around.” Though a command, it came out like a question and you knew this was yet another opportunity for you to provide your consent to the game. Keep walking forward and it would all be over. As a matter of fact, you were convinced your next step forward would take you to the hall where the door to your changing room was. Your turn was deliberate. So was the flash as the cape swished around your legs and settled back into place. Give him a show, you smiled inwardly to yourself, before you wiped that grin right off the face in your mind and dropped your jaw instead.

Before you stood a monster of a man/beast, which explained the rumbling of the ground. You noticed the hooves which explained the stamping sound. As you drew your eyes up his solid and thick legs, you were a little disappointed to see he was wearing a heavy pleated leather skirt which hid any hint of what might be hanging underneath. His biceps bulged and thick veins trailed down each forearm. His chest was broad and teeming with unbridled strength, bare and full of the fur you were hoping to find.

Walter wasn’t the first hairy man you’d been with, but he definitely made you appreciate it more and this beast sported a similar amount. As your gaze met his, you took in the visage of a bull’s head, noticing the ring you expected to see in his nose was not there, but the horns near his ears were. They were massive as well and you had plans.

“Who dares enter my labyrinth?” he demanded as he sauntered ever closer to you. “What little bird has been flitting through these halls?”

You gave your name as you held out the tray in front of you, but he simply stood before you, motionless, save his eyes which roamed over every inch of you. When he returned his gaze to yours, he cocked his head to one side.

“And what am I supposed to do with this?” he roared, obviously unsatisfied with the tray of meat. Did the hotel make a mistake? “Maybe you’re playing a game with me? Is that it? Interrupt my peaceful solitude and taunt me with a delectable offering only to hide it behind a curtain of fabric and an offensive tray of inferior flesh?”

“I … I didn’t know… I didn’t think…” you stammered. Your heart was beating furiously, though he hadn’t taken another step toward you and you weren’t exactly trapped. You were more convinced than ever that if you wanted to escape, the entry room and the elevator were just around the corner. He was giving you time to acclimate to your decision to stay, making sure you weren’t having second thoughts. Though he commanded this hall in this maze, he was letting you call the next shot and you knew you were in no danger. Well, none that you didn’t want.

You set the tray on a ledge nearby, and grabbed fistfuls of your robe in both hands, lifting the material enough to give you the feeling of freedom around your lower legs. Just in case. Not that you were planning on running.

“In this labyrinth, the offerings are usually a little more respectful. Would you like to try your offering again?” Something about his words, the way he cocked his head again, the subtle pawing at the ground, as if he was about to rear up. He wanted you to. 

You licked your lips, and nodded. Took one more beat. Then turned and ran. Past the door to the changing room, up the hall to the right, left down the next corridor, then right again. Left. Left. Left. Right. For a moment you imagined he wasn’t right on your tail and then you hit a dead end and he descended on you as you turned to try to escape the hall thinking you might have enough time to head in another direction. Well, around you really. His arms caged you against the wall behind you.

He was so close. His musk was intoxicating and the scent added a little more fuel to the fire already burning in your loins. You peered up into his eyes, which you now noticed weren’t jet black, but rather a deep, dark azure. 

“That’s better,” he chuckled. “The offering is always sweeter after a little vigorous activity.”

“I’m so sorry,” you spoke. "I had no idea the offering I was given wouldn't be to your satisfaction. I should have anticipated better for a creature who commands such obedience and reverence as you."

“The tray isn’t the offering, little bird,” he huffed near your ear as you felt a hand drop from the wall beside you to your shoulder and then down to the pivotal point on your costume. One little tug, and, yep, there it went. The makeshift dressing had held up surprisingly well on the chase, but it was designed to come off easily and that it did. He made an approving sound, tracing a finger over one breast and down the valley between both, nearing your apex before he dragged the back of that hand up your belly and around your waist, ending with a firm grip on the meat of your hips.

“What…what is the offering?” you asked, with feigned timidity, as if you didn’t know what he meant. His arms moved to circle your waist and his hands slid to the creases beneath both now bare cheeks.

"I'll take this peach instead," he snorted with what you perceived to be a wink and a grin. He jiggled the flesh of your ass and grinned wider as he caught the moan of pleasure you tried to suppress. "You don’t need to fight it little bird. This is why you're here. To let go of inhibitions and feel free to express your feelings and desires with no judgment. If you like someone paying attention to this luscious cake, you shouldn't have to feel like you have to hide it."

The exchange felt a little out of character for the scene, but you didn’t mind. The chase was fun, but it was going to be even better finding out how this man would take care of your needs. So you let him know.

"Fuck. It feels good to have you touch it. Most men just go straight for the pussy and ignore the pleasure I get from the tease, the idea of you..." you trailed off, uncertain if you wanted to broach that subject here.

"Oh, it's just an idea, huh? Nothing you want to try? Isn't that why you're here?"

You thought about Walter and wondered if Sy was as well endowed under the fabric covering his loins. Surely the beasts at this hotel were all inordinately adept at providing pleasure; that was after all the entire theme. And maybe there were other ways to pleasure a person, and maybe this hotel had them too, but you couldn’t begin to imagine that the size of Sy’s cock wasn’t proportionate to his stature. You weren't quite ready to feel that in your ass.

"It's alright, little bird. We're here for whatever you'd like,” he answered without you even saying a word.

“Can I call you Sy?” you asked, unsure how committed to the bit he’d be.

“Of course, darlin’.” That was an odd Texas drawl that had just overridden the previous enigmatic accent you assumed was meant to convey ancient Greece. He kept the twang when he saw your surprised eyebrow quirk. “We can take this play anywhere you want to go. Though I’m going to make one choice for us.”

He bent to scoop you into his arms, cradling your legs and back as he held you against his chest. You could feel his heart pounding and wondered if he could feel yours, too. You took some slow deep breaths to try to calm yourself.

For a brief moment, you nestled your head against his neck, relishing the feel of the fur against your cheek. Then you turned your head to pay attention to where he was taking you. You figured you would need to make your way out of this maze alone after being well and thoroughly fucked and somehow you imagined you'd still have enough brain cells to remember the path he was taking.

But Sy wasn’t going backwards to any open hall. Instead he was making his way directly into what you took for a dead end. Before he crushed you against the wall, as you were sure he was about to do, Sy stepped through the wall. Sort of. Through another optical illusion that proved the dead end was actually a T intersection.

Sy took the left branch and in a few short strides, you found yourself in a room filled oddly with accouterments of pleasure. A platform bed covered in softness in the middle of the space was an inviting contrast to the sandstone walls you'd acclimated to. In a few spaces, what appeared to be fur rugs hung against the walls. Straight ahead, covered in dozens of warm glowing candles illuminating the room along with hanging oil lamp pendants, sat a wooden altar. Bowls draped with mounds of luscious looking fruit and plates of cured meats and cheeses were nestled in between the candle holders.

As you looked around, you noticed no other entrance to the room, though you kept missing the non-obvious openings, so who knew? The markings on the wall and other accompanying furnishings led you to believe you were not just in some other hall of the maze. You were now in Sy's sanctuary. You’d found, or rather Sy was going to show you, the treasure at the middle of the maze. 

Sy set you on your feet and stepped back, as if judging your temperature again. 

“Is this where I meet my fate, then?” you asked, with a shy smile.

“You’ll die a thousand little deaths in here,” he promised, returning to the previous accent, and you noticed now a tail swishing behind him. You hadn’t seen that before, but it seemed…excited.

“Sounds amazing.”

With that he rushed you as if you still held the red cape as a target. In what felt like one fell swoop, he bent to capture your hips and swing you forward over his shoulder as he turned and took a few steps toward a fur-lined spot along a wall and none of those movements jostled or startled you. It was as if he was picking up a piece of cloth, the ease with which he maneuvered you and held you stable so nothing hurt. Not his fingers in your hips, not your hips over his shoulder, not your back as he held you captive, pressed against the wall of the hidden sanctuary.

“Walter said you smelled delicious and tasted even better,” Sy huffed with hunger.

Did they talk amongst one another? That hardly seemed ethical. And yet, you’d gossipped and dished about this place and the man you’d met previously. Why would you assume he wouldn’t do the same?

“So that’s the first thing we’ll take care of here,” he continued as he dug his massive thigh into the moist heat between your legs and huffed breath onto your neck. His hands traced the length of your body, down both sides, over your belly, onto the sensitive skin of your inner thighs.

In a heartbeat, he had you off the ground, legs spread wide as he continued to trap you against the wall. You tried to hold onto his beefy shoulders for stability, but soon realized he wasn't done lifting you up as you lost purchase.

You were sure you'd be tumbling forward onto the sandy ground in front of you as soon as you cleared another foot of his body, but somehow you remained upright. Well, ‘somehow’ was known but you were still amazed at the raw strength and power Sy possessed to hold you aloft and continue to elevate your body.

With one final shrug, he had your naked form where he wanted it. Legs over shoulders and pussy right at his face waiting to be devoured. You'd had men, including Walter, in between your legs before. A few times when you were upright, and that always put a nice checkmark next to their names in your book. But never while hoisted six feet in the air.

The thick swath of muscle that ascended through your folds filled you with a warmth you had been craving for weeks. Sy somehow managed to manipulate the shape as well, so that he alternated between targeted tight circles with a tip and wide saliva drenched passes that were soon mingling with your own juices.

You had the distinct impression that the wall behind you was for your benefit only. A way to make you more comfortable and secure in the knowledge that he wouldn't let you fall while he was feasting at the altar of your thighs. That he had the ability to hold you upright all on his own while he ate you out.

He made you come at least three times with your back arched against the wall and crying out for relief as you pressed into his head to hold yourself steady, even while he supported you with a hand cradling your ass and another secure against your side. You had wanted to grab his horns, but something told you to stop and wait until you could ask permission. It didn’t seem polite to just grab at them without warning.

“Please, Sy. Please fuck me now,” you pleaded and he skillfully obliged, though he took his sweet time getting there.

He took a few more licks, sucking in the moisture dripping from your pussy before he began to ease your legs off his shoulders, down his body, and around his waist. He settled you there while he reached back to unhook his skirt and drop it to the ground. Then he knelt, still holding you against the wall, and shifted your legs down to rest on his thighs. This gave you an opportunity to peek down and see what he was working with, and not that you were at all surprised but it was still a bit of shock.

A strap of leather remained wrapped around his waist, traveling down both sides of his Orion's belt with the ends connected to a ring that sat stuffed behind his cock. While you contemplated just how long it would let him last, he worked an especially large condom onto his massive member, drifting a knuckle through your folds at every opportunity, given the proximity. He grunted and grinned each time you rolled your hips against his fingers, eagerly seeking more pressure, more depth, more everything.

“Patience, little bird. We’ll get there soon enough,” he warned as he finished affixing the rubber. You watched rapt as he held himself firm in one hand, tugging with the same languid pace he also used to trail his fingers from the other hand around your entrance, flicking at the hidden pearl up top and pressing his thumb deep inside you. It was killing you, but this was not one of the little deaths he had promised and you contemplated telling him so. 

As if he could tell just how impatient you were becoming, he finally spread your puffy lips wide and began to nudge the tip of his cock at your soaking entrance. A gasp was all you could manage as he moved to standing at the same time, easing your legs back up around his waist again.

Sy moved into you inch by glorious inch, pausing every so often to make sure you were comfortable. It was certainly not something you were accustomed to, but the feeling was familiar and you knew now he was at least as large as Walter. This was going to be fun. When he was almost seated you asked.

“Sy?”

“Yes, little bird?”

“May I touch them? Hold … hold onto them?”

“Yes, little bird, you may.”

You used the leverage of your grip to drive your hips down the rest of the way onto his colossal cock and willed your inner walls to ease around him. A heat filled you, a desire to grind against him, but he stilled you. Made you sit with the enormity of the situation for a moment while he palmed a breast, rolled a nipple.

“Please, Sy, please. I want you to move. I want you to fuck me into this wall. Please.”

He didn’t make you beg another time. He was slamming into you and somehow rotating his hips in such a way that you felt him in every muscle and nerve in your body. It felt electric and vibrant and you wanted to explode. Sy let you. Fucked you right through it and into the midst of a second one before you could open your eyes again. 

You were grinding against him, pulling your body up and pushing back down using his horns to guide you and you were coming hard around him again. His laugh was infectious and you let one out with the third little death in this position. 

Suddenly, he spun you away from the wall. For a moment you thought he was heading for the bed, but he lifted you off his cock, then turned you around. He held you against his chest with one arm around your waist as his other hand guided his throbbing member into you once again.

You threw your arms behind you to grasp at his neck as if you needed to somehow participate in keeping yourself steady against him, but he could handle you all on his own. He had your legs splayed wide, an arm under each knee, and he drove up into you as if it was nothing. And while you didn’t need to, you absolutely wanted to slip your hands up a little higher, off his neck, over the back of his head and right back onto those epic horns. 

You smoothed your fingers over the bone, into the curl, and held on. It could have been your imagination, but his grunts and snorts seemed to magnify as you did so. Maybe he really liked it? Before you had a chance to consider dragging your fingers along the form again, he hit you with another deep wave of pleasure that had your eyes rolling back into your head as you slumped against him.

And it was like he knew how much more you had in you, because he just kept fucking you right back into consciousness, at which point you did gather your wits and give his horns a few more sensual strokes. It was his groan that told you he was close and you were helping him along. It only took a few more thrusts before you were coming hard around his dick and it seemed like he was letting loose with a roar, too.

He eased his phallus out of your sweaty, quivering body and moved forward to deposit you on the bed, admonishing you to stay put before he disappeared behind another secret wall. You heard water rushing and the sound began to lull you into a light sleep that only the warm, wet cloth pulled you out of.

“Don’t open your eyes just yet,” he spoke, his voice a little less gruff than before.

“I was promised a thousand little deaths,” you teased, unable to move your eyelids or anything else for that matter. His laughter lifted your heart.

“Oh, you want more? Looks like you’d scatter in the wind like a dandelion if I put my cock in you one more time.”

“I wish you weren’t right,” you joined him with a light laugh of your own. “Maybe if I could get a little nap…”

“Unfortunately, time has been flyin’ while we’ve been having fun. Don’t think you’ve got enough left for that.”

You peeled your eyes open, curious about his statement. You hadn’t meant to imply he should give you more time and you were embarrassed that he might think you were being pushy, demanding. You were not prepared for the sight of the man in front of you.

Where Walter’s shift had given him just a little extra height and bulk, not that he needed it to maneuver you around the room, Sy’s return to human form was dramatic. And not that he wasn’t massive in his own right, but the size of the beast that had just fucked you senseless was even more apparent comparatively. You could see he was solid, tree trunks for thighs and branches for arms. His shoulders were wide, chest broad. All the things you’d noticed of the bull, but just scaled down. And still incredibly daunting. 

“S’okay I shifted back?” he asked with concern.

“Of course, whatever you… I mean, this is all so new to me. I have no idea what’s allowed. And how much time…” Was what you were thinking about within bounds? “Has it really only been almost four hours? How much time is left? I think I assumed…”

Sy gave another chuckle as you trailed off.

“Yeah, he musta really liked you from the get go.” At your quizzical gaze, Sy continued. “We don’t all have that gift. Walt’s one of the few. And he uses it sparingly. It’s not really a sanctioned hotel offering. If everyone could and did, we’d get nothing but two-hour bookings.”

“Oh, I didn’t mean to… I mean, I hope that didn’t sound like I was demanding any special treatment or anything.”

“You honestly still don’t look like you have enough strength left to demand a deep breath,” Sy teased. “Here, lemme give you a hand. We’ll get you cleaned up for real.”

He scooped you off the bed and carried you into the bathroom, outfitted similarly to the entry room. He placed you gently under the warm, rushing waterfall before sudsing you up with a shower gel that smelled surprisingly like something you already owned. You watched as his hands slid over your body, easing the soap down your legs and guiding the water to rinse you off. 

“Sy,” you began, wondering if you should even bring it up, but as he stood to grab a towel for you, the shape you thought you’d seen as he washed you was even more apparent. “Is it allowed? Do we have time … Can I…help you with this?”

You reached for him, circling a hand around his obvious erection and tugging gently. His eyes closed slowly as he dropped his head back with a deep sigh, before he wrapped his arms around you and drew you to him. He put a palm against your cheek and tilted your head to train his beautiful blue eyes on yours as he spoke.

“It’s technically not allowed.” Your heart sank at his words. “But Imma make it good for you one last time anyway.” 

You let the towel drop to the floor as he lifted you to move back out to the bed. He set you down and you watched him climb onto the mattress, expecting him to grab a condom and crawl over you, or flip you over. When he settled himself between your legs, it wasn’t his cock that penetrated you. Sy put his mouth over your pussy again and the moan that escaped his throat had enough vibration you were sure you could come from that alone.

He was better. He was unbelievably better than Walter at this. It wasn’t something you were particularly proud to be thinking, but truth was where you found it and this was the truth. Sy was skilled and all the tricks he used in Minotaur form, he used here as well. You were squirming within moments, grinding up into his face and grabbing onto his freshly shaved head to help keep him where he’d do the most damage in the quickest amount of time. Not that he needed your help, because he was fucking good at this. He knew how to use his tongue and lips and, yes, teeth, gently, and yes fingers, deep and deft. And if you weren’t mistaken, he was squirming, too. 

You could see his ass wiggling and humping into the bed and if you weren’t losing your own damn mind you’d have noticed his hips stuttering as he came into the mattress right around the time his fingers landed back on the spot that, in combination with the movement of his tongue, had you screaming his name.

He let you linger in bed a moment, catching your breath while he slipped on a pair of white, slouchy linen pants before he held out his hand to help you off the bed. 

“Here,” he pulled the sheet around you with a soft chuckle and a grin. “This’ll be more comfortable than traipsing back to the elevator naked. I’ll show you the way.”

Sy led you back to the entry room, stopping along the way for a small detour to find your discarded cloak down the dead end hall. You swapped material with him as he deposited you outside the changing room and wished you a wonderful day.

“Come back and see us again, sometime. It was a pleasure,” he tilted his head at you as you stepped backwards into the room.

“The pleasure was all mine,” you replied.

“Don’t be too sure about that, now.”

Bonus Edit: Absolutely GORGEOUS headers made for me by my wonderful friend in fic @geralts-yenn:

Everything HC Taglist: (as always, let me know if you want on or off)

@sillyrabbit81 @mayloma @geralts-yenn @raccoon-eyed-rebel @fvckinghenrycavill @kebabgirl67 @beck07990 @itsrubberbisquit @sweetdreamsofgelato @liveoncoffeeandflowersss @alexakeyloveloki @marantha @aireraume @angelmather1 @lizzystuffsthings @enchantedbytomandhenry @omgkatinka @littlefreya @avengersfan25 @just-chirpin @thesaucynomad @valacirca @henryownsme @summersong69 @foxyjwls007 @peyton-warren

Special tag: @kittenofdoomage (cause sometimes you love my stuff and this one's another monster fucker lol!)

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#captain syverson fanfiction #captain syverson x reader #captain syverson #syverson fanfiction #syverson x reader #syverson #minotaur!syverson #minotaur!syverson x reader #spoopy season #henry cavill characters #labyrinth fantasy #henry cavill fanfic #henry cavill fanfiction #mine #deandoesthingstome

[bookofthegear]

For lack of any other direction, you head west along the catwalk to the open doorway in the wall. To your total lack of surprise, it leads to another concrete hallway running north-south.

Opposite the doorway is a fossil, or at least the sculpture of a fossil. Obviously the labyrinth isn’t old enough for REAL fossils to have formed, and they wouldn’t form in concrete walls anyway. You think. That’s more a biology question, really.

What the fossil actually is is also a biology question. It’s about four feet tall and very, very long. You seem to be somewhere in the middle of it. It’s a…snake? Maybe? Lotta ribs, anyway. No, there’s some sort of fin on its back, you can see spines…

It can’t possibly be a sea serpent. Those are just giant squid or random whale penises! (You remember THAT biology fact, but who wouldn’t?)

Hmm, unless it’s a sculpture of a fossil of a sea serpent…

Based on the direction of the spines, you walk south toward the head. Eventually you find it, though the beast is at least forty feet long, if not longer. It has a weirdly smushed face, with a gigantic round eye and a tiny, disapproving mouth. More impressive is a topknot of spines erupting from the head like a party hat, only a little distorted by fossilization. It also has two long…deely-bobbers…on the underside that stretch back for several yards.

“Is deely-bobber the technical term, boss?” (Jimmy has to spell the word letter by letter, as this is not a standard phrase in interpretive dance.)

“Absolutely,” you tell him, studying the sea serpent in all its questionable glory. Can’t possibly be real, of course. You almost bought it until the deely-bobbers and the topknot, but that was just gilding the lily. The artist needed to quit while they were ahead.

There is a doorway on the east wall opposite the head and the corridor continues to the south.

#choose your own adventure #t kingfisher #ursula vernon #book of the gear

[godshitgirl]

In a dominant mood so here's how I think bsd men would act as subs

Atsushi

Would be a very obedient sub

Trusts you in every way imaginable

You know how parents tell you "well if your friend told you to jump off a bridge, would you do it?"??

Yea that's him

If you told him to do something stupid or dangerous whether in the bedroom or not he would immediately trust that you have a plan behind it (even if you actually don't, he doesn't know that)

Other than that, he's very anxious when it comes to PDA, at least at first

But once he gets used to it, and by that I mean used to the feeling of being loved, then he will slowly start warming up to and even asking for it

When it comes to sex, he can be even more bashful and awkward about it

He mostly whimpers and whines and it's not super loud, but if it does get to that point he's very self aware and scared of others hearing him, so he covers his mouth right away

I think he'd be most compatible with a more gentle top

He can't handle very heavy scenes and I can't imagine him having a very active libido

He has sex to express love and passion, not just for a quick fling that doesn't mean anything

Outside of the bedroom, he's very quiet about what goes on in there

Dazai likes to tease him about it and you love how his pale complexion turns into a pretty shade of red

Dazai

Oh this man is OBNOXIOUS

He's the type of sub that makes you wanna fuck him so hard he actually shuts the fuck up for a second

One of the brattiest of the bunch, for some reason has to turn anything and everything into a game of cat and mouse

Also one of the horniest, believe me you'll be drained DRY after like a week or so

This man's libido is UNMATCHED

He may be taller than you, smarter than you, and possibly stronger than you when it comes to his ability,

But in every other way you are in charge And some part of him always wants to challenge that

Loves to be paraded around like a showdog (but prefers the term "trophy wife")

He's a little princess and always gets what he wants

I think he'd fit best with a dom who could handle his.....special traits

He needs someone who won't get tired of him so quickly and leave, just like everyone else in his life did

But he also needs someone to put him in his place from time to time

Dealing with dazai isn't for the faint of heart, anyone who's done it before knows that

So maybe if you're strong enough, smart enough, and a little bit delusional and crazy, you could have this cute little former mafioso wrapped around your finger like a worm on a string <3

Fyodor

Tbh this one's the whole reason why I made this post in the first place😆

This one's also a little....different...from the others

And by that I mean he's worse

His brattiness doesn't come in the form of disobeying orders or having a fit in front of your friends

No, this one will purposefully pick you apart psychologically

Trying to get this man to behave will require a labyrinth of words, a battle of the minds

He needs someone who can challenge him, because if they don't, he wouldn't bother to be submissive towards them at all, they don't deserve it.

He's one half sickly and one half pride, so taking care of him isn't gonna be easy

Of course you'd have to know going in that Fyodor's self care is abysmal and as his dom you'd have to take responsibility for his health

Taking care of his pills, his diet, making sure he eats and sleeps on time, gets enough rest, drinks enough water, exercises, that's all on you from now on

But you do it cause you love him

Sometimes he'll be bratty and arrogant enough to take you for granted, and would snap at you and tell you he doesn't need someone to baby him when you just were trying to help

But after enough time, he'll realize he was wrong, and as his health depletes, he'll slowly start to inch towards you, asking for your help

You would make sure it gets to the point where he'd have to beg. Make him realize what it's truly like to not have you "distracting" him with your care and concern

And eventually, if he's put up a pathetic enough display for you, you'll hold him in your arms, warm chest comforting him as he leans his head and torso on it

You'll watch how he shivers each time he takes a breath, his eyes are glassy and staring at nothing, his hair is drowning in grease, and it's obvious he hadn't showered in days, but you don't mind

All of this means he's vulnerable, which means he's weak, which means he's malleable.

Malleable enough for you to mold into whatever you please.

Because the only person who could dominate the demon Fyodor is someone who could become the demon Fyodor.

Whether he knew it or not, you were just as sinister as he was, possibly even more.

And every breath he took was another foolish step into your web, a plan you had conducted just for him

So he can be as proud and smug as he wants, but at the end of the day,

You are in control.

Chuuya

It's kind of hard for me to decipher what kind of sub he'd be to be honest

I want to say he'd be a brat but that term doesn't seem to describe him exactly

Sure, he's got a lot of pride, so getting him to submit to you or even to simply let you take the wheel will be difficult.

He's too stuck in his old habits, too used to having to take care of everything, so being taken care of for a change will be a new feeling to him.

He's also scared to love you, scared to let himself bring another person into his heart, afraid of instead accidentally luring you to your death as he had done with so many others.

No, he's not ready to lose another person. Not again.

He's grown to see his love for others as a trap, a ploy, a misfortune. It was like a prophecy for someone's death.

But you, you were different from the rest.

You were strong. Strong enough to protect yourself, strong enough to stand your ground. In fact, you could probably even protect the gravity manipulator Chuuya Nakahara himself.

It took a long time for him to be ready. Ready to open himself up for you. But you let him take his time. You let him think things through. And despite everything, you were there.

You both sprouted a relationship neither of you thought you could do before

And the sex wasn't just sex to you two, no, it could be a distraction, a vacation, an escape, a break, an apology, you name it.

Sex would be a big part of you guys' relationship

I like to think that Chuuya is a lot hornier than he says he is, and also a lot more submissive

Learning that he was a sub was surprising for you, especially because of, well, everything about him

But that was cool for you, as you were vers, and you had to admit you loved the way he screamed and cried under you.

The look in his eyes, the blush in his cheeks, the spit dripping from the corners of his mouth, even the small wounds he had gotten from biting his lips so hard to keep in a moan was adorable

Fucking in his penthouse was great because he had red lighting in almost every room, giving it a sexy, moody vibe.

It also reminded him of his place. He may be rich, he may be a mafia executive, and he may have a couple dozen people under his command, but no matter where or what he is, he will always be a pathetic little whore for you.

You fuck him in his room to remind him his riches mean nothing. He means nothing. All he is is a slut, and he must be reminded of that.

I think he'd be best compatible with a quieter personality to counter his loud one, but I think that loud, brash personality is most present around Dazai. Though he can have a little bit of a temper from time to time, even around you

He needs someone who doesn't care about status or ranks, Port mafia executive or not, you'll fuck him like there's no tomorrow and once you're done he'll be clinging to you like a lost little dog.

Ranpo

Brat. Brat Brat Brat. NOTHING about this boy is topping.

I mean, I do see him as a switch, but in this case, he's the brattiest brat to ever brat.

Will require you give him sweets and cold drinks whenever he asks, will make you drive him places, teach him things and even fuck him when he's too lazy to do the fucking.

He'll be obnoxious all day and then look at you like he's done nothing wrong his whole life. Spoiled little shit.

He's exactly the type of sub you would fuck into submission until you hear a sorry or any sort of appropriate apology.

He likes to be fucked lying down, sometimes sitting and leaning against something, but sometimes you'll force him to sit on you and ride you up and down even though you know he hates it. You'll never hear the end of it from him, though.

He likes to be fucked while eating, too. You'll fuck him from behind with a hand out and spoonfeeding him cake, and the rapid shaking of your bodies and the table he's up against will leave traces of cake all over his chin and cheeks. He doesn't know if he wants cake or if he wants you to eat his cake. Either way, he wants and needs you bad.

I think he'd be best fit with a top who would usually just give in to all his demands and would be patient with his bratty personality, but knows when it's been taken too far. You'd be calm and gentle with him, but come nighttime, you're a beast in bed, making sure he makes up for everything he did in the office that day.

He's not the type to apologize I don't think, he'd definitely beg if it's gotten too much for him but an apology? That's asking too much. Just take the moans and cries and leave.

However, right afterwards he'd go back to his usual bratty self no matter how bad the punishment was. In couldn't have been that harsh anyway, as you could never say no to Ranpo's cute face.

Akutagawa

When I say this man is a Virgin I mean he's a VIRGIN VIRGIN.

As in as virgin as the virgin mother mary

He hadn't even had time for sex before you came along.

You taught him everything, even things about his own body that he didn't even know. Like how he doesn't like the feeling of frotting because he doesn't like how another man's dick is on his own. Or how he likes when you pump his cock slowly, especially since he's so new to the game that he couldn't handle more even if he tried. Poor boy😔

He finds it odd, the feeling of being pampered. Being provided with food everyday, a warm place to live, constant affection, he didn't know what to do with it. It was as if he was an alien studying earth and experiencing the most mundane things for the first time.

And the weirdest thing about it was, he liked it. He liked the feeling of being taken care of, being provided for and pampered, and it was odd. He wasn't sure if he even deserved such wonderful feelings.

When it comes to sex, you better believe this man's got some weird shame thing related to sex

He sees it as a filthy task that he, unfortunately, likes to partake in.

He's ashamed even bringing it up, let alone asking for it.

But once you get the memo you take action and calmly and gently take care of him

Akutagawa's been used to violence, been used to screams of pain and agony, but this? It's soft. It's sweet. It's tender. He's not used to it but part of him wants to be. He's never been so happy in his life.

He's not the type to whine and whimper so much like Atsushi, instead he'll let out a low grunt here and there and maybe throw in a moan somewhere too.

He's into the wildest things, most of which involving your ability with his. It's probably some weird psychological thing where he's associated his ability strength = worth thing to the bedroom which......isn't healthy.

But once you're done his sickly little body is spent, his already damaged lungs trying desperately to keep moving. You hold him over your shoulder, as being carried bridal style would mess with his pride. Arm wrapped around your shoulder and tugging at you inner arm, he leans into you the way he's never done for anyone before.

He feels odd now, as if he's just discovered something new. Learning and even participating in sex has left him with many questions, that hopefully you could answer.

#bsd #bsd x reader #dom reader #sub character #sub and dom #bungou stray dogs #chuuya nakahara #atsushi nakajima #dazai osamu #fyodor dostoevsky #ranpo edogawa #x reader #fanfiction #x reader fanfiction

[bokuroar]

𝗵𝗮𝗶𝗸𝘆𝘂𝘂!! 𝗰𝗵𝗮𝗿𝗮𝗰𝘁𝗲𝗿𝘀 & 𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗶𝗿 “oh.” 𝗺𝗼𝗺𝗲𝗻𝘁

↬ fyi: the italicized “oh.” moment is famously used in referring to the exact moment where a person realizes they’re in love ♡ ><

↬ part 2 here!

↬ hq characters (oikawa, bokuto, kuroo, suna) x gn!reader

↬ cw // mild cursing

ꕤ oikawa flinches for the third time as you dab cotton on his scraped knees, tending to his bruises he got from pushing himself too much during training. again. stop practicing overtime and overworked, that’s what you have been telling him. trying to, at least, because for all the years you’ve worked with him you know these concerns don’t go through his thick, stubborn skull. “you better not give me any shitty excuses.” you mumble as you press ice and wrap bandages on his fingers too, while tōru thinks you have never looked more adorable with a focused, scrunched brows and a frowning mouth that can’t help but tsk out loud scolding the athlete as their manager for not taking care of himself. at that moment, oikawa doesn’t know what hurts more—the bruises forming on his skin, or the itch and ache of wanting to hold your hands in his and never let go. uh oh.

ꕤ “bang! fukurodani bags the trophy with their ace!” where are you, where are you, bokuto could almost hear his thoughts thrumping as loud as the school band’s drums while he scans the booming crowd. fukurodani just won a championship, and the first thing bokuto does is look for you. he doesn’t feel like it’s a win worth celebrating, not yet, until he can do it by your side. as he sets his eyes on your familiar figure on the bleachers, it’s like the whole world drowned out by themselves. all he could see was your eyes lit from happiness, arms waving, and all he could hear was your voice calling out his name. before bokuto knows it, he was running to you, arms open to give the biggest hug he could ever provide. with his forelimbs encapsulating your middle, he lifts you from the ground and spins you around—bokuto’s childlike smile widening as he hears your squeals and giggles. so this is what winning really feels like. oh!

ꕤ you feel like you beat the cheshire cat in the grin forming on your face as you got back your exam results in chemistry. a perfect score, ha! the little celebratory dance happening in your mind was broken by the familiar voice at your side. he peeks through your shoulder and chuckles, “took you long enough to surpass me.” it’s your seatmate, kuroo, who made everything a competition since freshmen year–academic assessments included. “want me to get some band-aids for your bruised ego?” you tease and mock him enjoying the opportunity you’ve been waiting for. you didn’t notice he’s actually not paying attention to any of your words. with his head placed on the palm of his hand perched in his desk, kuroo can’t resist a smile despite your boasting. pride, ego, and academic morale set aside as he admires you—completely unaware of the fondest look as he takes in your beam. it’s no surprise you got so taken aback when tetsurō suddenly blurts out, “you’re so fucking pretty, did you know that?” oh?

ꕤ your childhood friend suna sees the annoying yellow-haired miya first, then, you seated right across atsumu in the high school cafeteria. belonging in the same friend group, it’s a must that you sit together for lunch every day as compensation for the busy schedules as seniors. carrying his food tray, rintarō stops in his tracks when he saw you laughing–loudly and carelessly with your eyes closed and head thrown back, most probably because of a stupid joke his equally stupid teammate made. “what the hell was so funny?” suna thinks and feels all things at once. he’s resisting the urge to smack atsumu at the back of the head in jealousy, he feels sick in the stomach realizing he wasn’t the one who elicited that beautiful laugh from you, he wants to drop the food and walk right over to kiss that damn lips. his daze gets vanquished by the smile you gave him as you caught a glimpse of him behind atsumu. “hey rin, over here!” you call out and tap the seat next to you. as you instinctively rest your head on his shoulder when he sat down, everything finally made sense to suna. oh no.

© bokuroar (2023) – do not plagiarize, modify, copy, use, translate, repost my work on other sites without permission.

a/n: hi.. it’s me … hehehe it’s really been awhile ;-; drop by my inbox to say hi or talk about this post more (or which characters should i include as im planning a pt. 2) hehehe

#✍️.haikyuu!! #haikyuu!! #haikyuu x reader #hq x reader #haikyuu x y/n #oikawa x reader #oikawa toru x reader #bokuto x reader #bokuto kotaro #kuroo tetsuro x reader #kuroo x reader #Spotify

[antxlss]

Hi! Could I have an Anakin x female!reader where they're both Jedi and a chaotic parenting team for Ahsoka?

I pictured a few scenarios like when they first meet reader defends Ahsoka because Ani calls her "youngling" and talks to her as if she was a child; or Anakin is relaxing and reader distracts him for Ahsoka to pounce on him and play fight him; or reader rescues Ahsoka because she did something reckless and life risking during a mission and she's angry at the Padawan, then before scolding her Ani tries to calm reader down and comforts her when she desperately says that she has to tell Ahsoka off because if she loses her, her world would be turned upside down, then instead of yelling at her, reader makes Ahsoka understand in a calm way that what she did was wrong and tells her how much she adores her

Sorry if it's too long and also if it's more Ahsoka x reader but I hope you get to write it ❤

ahsoka

pairing: anakin skywalker x reader platonic!ahsoka tano x reader

summary: *above*

warnings: none

words: 2.5k

a/n: this is so cutesy, i love it! and yes I know the title is sooo creative. thank you so much for the request! requests for anakin are open! as always, i hope you enjoy! much love! <3

-—————————⋆｡‧˚ʚɞ˚‧｡⋆—————————-

Anakin had very recently been granted the responsibility of having his very own padawan.

She was a 14 year old Togruta, Ahsoka Tano.

Anakin was beyond thrilled to have an apprentice. You were excited to see his fill his leadership role, especially with a teenager.

As you expected, Anakin and Ahsoka got along perfectly. She reminded you a lot of him. Maybe that's why you had grown so close to her.

You were always on missions with Anakin, so in result, you were constantly around Ahsoka. You immediately formed a big-sister-type relationship with her. You guys were always together. She would often come to your quarters and you would teach and show her all the things a normal teenage girl should be able to do.

You felt bad for her. She was pushed into a setting of war fat too young, so you always tried to make her feel as normal as possible.

You were walking through the labyrinth like halls towards Anakin's quarters, with Ahsoka and your faithful droid R2-D2. Ahsoka was walking a little ahead of you, seemingly lost in her own thoughts.

Suddenly, Ahsoka turned around and looked at you, with a bit of worry on her face. "Master, you can tell me if you think I'm not ready for the mission. I know it's a pretty intense one. I don't want to mess up." She said.

You smiled at her, and placed your hand on her shoulder gently.

"Ahsoka, you still have much to learn, but don't underestimate your power. Anakin and I wouldn't allow you to accompany us if we didn't think you were ready." You assured her as you finally reached Anakin's door.

Ahsoka nodded, seeming to feel a little better from your words.

"Okay. But is it alright if I ask you a question first?"

Her voice had changed to a curious tone, as she looked at you.

"Do you think Anakin really likes me?" She asked you, with her head tilted to the left, like she always did when she was curious. "Or does he only tolerate me because he has to?"

You started to speak but before you could open your mouth Anakin steps out of his quarters.

"Are we ready to head to the briefing?" Anakin asks.

You give Ahsoka a look and nod your head hoping she's picking up what you are trying to say.

You then turn to Anakin. "We've been waiting on you gramps."

Anakin rolls his eyes "See how mean she is, Snips?"

You laugh in response as you all head to the briefing.

Anakin smiled and shook his head at both you and Ahsoka. He really cared for her, and saw how the two of you interacted with each other.

He also walked with you both to the briefing room, where all of the other Jedi were waiting to receive new orders from the Jedi Council.

"I know you'll do great on this mission, Ahsoka. I have full faith in you. Be careful, okay?" Anakin said, walking ahead of you a little, so he could be alone with Ahsoka for just a moment.

You smile at their interaction. You live the side that Ashoka brings out in Anakin.

You all make your way into the room and find your seats as you wait for further details on your mission.

You all sat down, and waited as Master Windu came into the room and took his seat, in order to start discussing the mission with you all.

"The Separatists have been creating secret factories to construct weaponry that will give them a major edge in the war."

Windu looked at you all.

"Do you remember the last factory that we destroyed on Felucia?" He asked.

"We have just found out that the Separatists have just completed building a new one on the planet of Kyseli." Windu continued.

He nodded and looked at Anakin, Ahsoka, and you. A plan was about to be revealed to you all.

"The council would like you three and the 501st battalion to head down to Kyseli, and destroy this factory before it begins production."

Windu looked over at Anakin, and back at you.

"This won't be an easy mission. But, we are confident you three are able to handle it." He then turned to Ahsoka, looking her in the eyes. "You're ready for this mission, Ahsoka."

After the meeting wrapped up you exited the room. Anakin gathered you, Rex, R2, and Ahsoka to discuss how he wanted to execute this mission.

Anakin talked to you all about how he imagined the mission going.

"Okay. So, we'll start by heading over to Dreshia, the nearest planet to Kyseli. Once we make it to Dreshia, we'll split our troops into two sections. The first section will be led by me and Rex. We will distract the Separatist forces by attacking them head-on. It should give the second section a chance to enter the planet."

"Ahsoka, you will lead the second section." Anakin said.

"Wait, Master Skywalker, shouldn't Master

Y/N be leading the second section?" Ahsoka worriedly glance between you and Anakin.

"No, Snips. We need you to lead the mission this time. You'll do great, trust me." Anakin said, with a smirk on his face, hoping to reassure her.

"You're ready, believe me." He continued.

You could see the worry on Ahsoka's face, and Anakin looked like he wanted to hug her and tell her it would be okay, but he had to keep up this leader like personality for this mission.

The truth is, you and Anakin had discussed this prior to the briefing. He was insisting on Ahsoka leading the second section, but you, not so much. It's not that you don't think she's capable, because she is, it's just you can't stand the thought of her getting hurt. Or worse.

After a 30 minute screaming match between you and Anakin, it was deemed that he was the lead of this mission, and Ahsoka was his padawan. So now you would just stick with Ahsoka and try to protect her the best you can.

As Ahsoka was looking at you with a worried expression, you knew that she was thinking about how she didn't believe she could lead the second section.

You also felt worried about how Anakin would react to you going back on his decision about Ahsoka leading; it would probably cause another argument between you two, and you wanted to stay on Anakin's good side, since you were working with him for this mission.

You had no choice but to look at Ahsoka and shake your head as you said "I'll be right at your side. Everything is going to be okay. I promise."

You, Ahsoka, Anakin, Rex, and R2 were all waiting outside of their starship to get ready for the mission that the Jedi Council had sent you on. Everyone seemed slightly anxious or worried about the mission, but you could feel this overwhelming sense of determination and courage in the air as well.

You could tell that Anakin, Ahsoka, and Rex were all slightly nervous about the mission, even though they all knew what they were doing. No matter how good you were at something, you would always get these feelings of worry and anxiety whenever you headed out on a mission of this caliber.

"Once we land on Dreshia, We will immediately split into our sections and head to Kyseli. That's where Rex and I will lead our troops to distract the separatists who are likely to attack as soon as we break the atmosphere. Ahsoka that's when you will lead Y/N and the rest of the troops to the factory to destroy it. As soon as that is done, we regroup back on Dreshia." Anakin recaps.

Ahsoka nodded.

"I understand, Master." she said quietly.

Anakin smiled at her confidently, knowing that deep down, Ahsoka wasn't really believing in herself on this mission. Anakin then looked over to you.

"Alright, are you and the troops ready, Y/N?" Anakin asked, wanting to get the mission started.

"You don't need to call me 'Master' when we're out here." Anakin said, with a slight smirk on his face. "But if that's what you want, then go ahead."

Anakin then looked at everyone else.

"Alright, everyone ready? Let's go."

You all board your assigned ships and take off for Dreshia.

Once you land at the republic base, it's go time, everyone is running around finding their section, you stay close to Ahsoka.

Before you knew it you were in the air again heading for Kyseli

Just as you expected, as soon as you entered the atmosphere, we were bombarded by enemy fire. Just as planned Anakin's Section distracted them As Ahsoka led you, and the rest of section two, straight towards the factory.

Your section had successfully made it to the factory, and the Separatist forces were now turning their attention towards the other side of the planet; where Anakin and Rex's section were distracting them.

Anakin's plan was working perfectly; everything was going exactly as he expected, and Ahsoka was leading the troops inside of the factory building.

"Alright, Ahsoka. You've got this, the Separatists aren't focused on us right now." Anakin said, over the radio. "I knew this plan would work."

"Alright! Everyone place their explosives!" Ashoka ordered.

You immediately placed your explosives down and prepped them for detonation. You watched as all the other troopers did the same. Once complete we all headed out of the factory to detonate.

Ahsoka held the device that would detonate the explosives.

"On three." Ahsoka stated.

"One... Two... Three."

Nothing

"What's going on? Why isn't it exploding?" You ask with a confused look.

"I don't know. I'm going to check it out." Ahsoka started running back toward the building.

"Ahsoka stop!- "

You were cut off by the explosion. Ahsoka flew back and landed on the ground. You immediately ran up to her checking her for any serious injuries. The only thing you noticed is that she was knocked unconscious. You were internally panicking but you knew you had to keep calm because you were now in charge. You lifted Ahsoka in your arms.

"All troops to the ship! We are regrouping to Dreshia!" You yelled.

Everyone boarded the ship and you all headed for Dreshia where you would regroup with Anakin and his fleet.

You carried Ahsoka through the ship and back out onto Dreshia, where you could see Rex and Anakin waiting for you.

"What happened out there?" Anakin asked.

You could tell he was upset when he saw Ahsoka unconscious in your arms, and he was looking at you in a serious way, expecting an answer.

"She ran back towards the rigged building after a malfunction with the detonator. It exploded while she was headed towards it. I tried to stop her." You shook your head. 

"She doesn't seem to have major injuries. She was just knocked unconscious from hitting the ground I suppose."

Anakin stayed quiet and nodded in understanding.

You saw he was clearly upset over the situation, and this worried you, even though you didn't want to show your emotions to Anakin.

"Let's get back to the camp on Dreshia." Anakin said in a stern voice. The three of you got in a speeder to head back towards the base, while Ahsoka stayed unconscious in your arms as the speeder drove on.

One you made it, you took Ahsoka to a medic droid that was on the site.

Ahsoka was taken to the medic droid, and Anakin and you waited in the tent for the droid to finish treating her.

After what felt like hours, but was probably only around two minutes, the medic droid emerged from the tent, carrying Ahsoka who still looked unconscious.

"She'll be fine. She'll wake up soon." The medic droid said, as Anakin and you relaxed, and waited for Ahsoka to wake up.

After about 30 minutes Ahsoka started rustling and her eyes fluttered open.

Ahsoka slowly opened her eyes, blinking for a moment as she realized her surroundings, and then she looked at you.

"Hey...what happened?" she asked, sounding a little confused.

She had a look of pain on her face, and was still slightly dizzy when she spoke to you.

"When you went to investigate why the detonator wasn't working, it decided to work." You could feel the anger creeping up on you now that you knew Ahsoka was okay.

Why would she do some so stupid and reckless? Why would she put her life in danger like that?

Anakin seemed to sense your frustration.

"Y/N, let's step out. I need to speak with you."

You followed Anakin out of the medical tent.

Once you and Anakin were outside the medical tent, on Dreshia, Anakin began to speak to you about what happened with Ahsoka.

"Listen, Y/N, I understand why you're upset about what Ahsoka did." Anakin said, "She put herself in danger, and that's something you and I disagree on. But you have to understand that Ahsoka is just young, and maybe a little inexperienced."

"I know you don't like the thought of it - neither do I. But Ahsoka will have to learn things on her own, and make her own choices." Anakin continued.

You sighed. You knew Anakin was right. Yelling at her wouldn't solve anything.

"You're right. Let's go talk to her." You gave Anakin a kiss on the cheek and headed back into the tent.

Anakin smiled, feeling happy that you heard him out instead of getting angry with him.

The duo then walked back into the medical tent, and saw that Ahsoka was now fully awake and sitting up. When Ahsoka saw you and Anakin, she smiled and got up.

Ahsoka then walked over to Anakin and hugged him. She seemed to have a lot of love for him; you didn't blame her.

"I'm alright, Master." Ahsoka said to Anakin. "I'm sorry for trying to run in there like that. It was a mistake on my part."

She went over and hugged you as well.

You giggled. "Slow down there tiger. You need to lay down."

"But you are right. It was a mistake. A stupid, reckless mistake. You have to think before you do okay. If I were to lose you... I can't bear the thought. The truth is Snips, Anakin and I care about you so much. Do you understand?"

Ahsoka looked a little surprised at your reaction, since she thought you would be angry at her.

She then nodded to you, and it seemed like she understood why Anakin and you were so concerned about her.

"I know, I'm sorry. I-I just got so caught up in the moment, that I forgot about the mission." Ahsoka said.

"Just...please don't do anything this stupid or reckless again. Okay, Ahsoka?" Anakin said with a soft smile.

"She gets it from you Ani." You laugh.

Anakin's face turns a light pink when he heard what you said, as he looked down and away from you.

Once Anakin started speaking again, he seemed slightly embarrassed.

"I guess you're right, Y/N." He said, laughing a bit. "Come on, let's get back to the ship. Everyone's ready to head back."

#star wars anakin #anakin skywalker x you #anakin and ahsoka #anakin star wars #anakin needs a hug #anakin skywalker imagine #anakin x you #anakin is a little shit #anakin skywalker smut #anakin one shot #anakin skywalker x reader #sw anakin #anakin skywalker is hot #anakin skywalker #anakin x reader #anakin smut #anakin skywalker x female reader #anakin skywalker and ahsoka tano #sw ahsoka #ahsoka tano

[astroboots]

*oliver twists voice*

“Please sir may I please have some more?”

hamster steven 🥺 my little sister asks for updates all the time lol

Series Masterlist | Moon Knight Masterlist | Astroboot’s Masterlist

Pairing: Steven Grant x female reader

A/N: omg nonny! this is the world's most effective way to make me write more Hamsteven content! How could I ever deny your little sister... and a Charles Dickens reference?!?!? Aye aye!

Summary: You try to create a special meal for Hamster Steven so he can regain some normalcy.

You will be the first one to admit that you spend way too much time on tiktok. It's a slippery slope, and ever since you looked up tutorials on hamster care tips, your FYP seems to have picked up on the trail and now every two videos you flick through is hamster related.

Hamsters in tiny teddybear hats. Hamsters put in elaborate escape labyrinths, Crystal Maze style. Hamsters being treated to miniature meals inspired by human meals.

The internet is a wild place.

There's a squeaky noise next to you on the pillow that interrupts you just as you are about to scroll onto the next video.

You peer up from your screen, to see the big shiny eyes of your boyfriend-turned-hamster, standing on his hind-legs, as he's staring back at you. You're not sure if it's just your imagination, but he doesn't look happy. If you didn't know any better, you'd think he was giving you the stinkeye you for spending so much time on tiktok.

You glance up at the clock on the corner of your phone. 00:51.

Okay, maybe it's not just your imagination. You've somehow unwittingly spent more than two hours on your phone, without paying attention. Steven is definitely judging you for that.

"Sorry, Steven. I must've lost track of time," you tell him, and at your apology he lowers himself back on all four paws, waddling over to your chest and curls himself up on the curve of your breast.

It's become his favorite spot to rest... certain things don't change regardless of what form he takes.

You run two fingers over his head, stroking the soft fur and he seems to melt at the touch, the round shape of him going flat with relaxation. It's adorable. Steven has always been fond of having his hair stroked like a particularly cuddly pet.

It really does seem like certain things haven't changed much at all despite his transformation into a hamster.

... Except, that's not really true though is it.

In the past few days since Steven has turned into a pet, his limitations has been more than apparent. Because of his tiny size, he's in constant danger.

You had left the window open to air out the flat while you were cleaning, only to have a particularly menacing seagull make a dive for him and had to chase it out with a flyswatter so it wouldn't devour your boyfriend whole.

In his current form he's not quite able to do any of the activities that he normally enjoys, reading is out of the question, even if he could turn his own pages (which is difficult when you do not have opposing thumbs or no grip) you're not sure what his vision must be like, the letters must read gigantic to him.

He doesn't seem to particularly enjoy the yoghurt drops you got him from the pet store, and the enthusiasm he had at first for the almonds and walnuts you'd given him seems to be waning and on more than one occasion you've caught the wistful and longing gaze Steven has had on his expression when you sit down for a meal by the table that he couldn't partake.

But ramen doesn't really seem fit for a hamster's diet, so you could hardly give him a taste.

Poor Steven has had little to no normalcy left since his transformation and as the days go by and the solution to his dilemma isn't anywhere near in sight, you feel a pang of sadness for him.

Absentmindedly, you continue to pet his fur as you pull up your phone again and scroll through the videos when your eyes linger over the video you saw earlier of a hamster being treated to miniature spaghetti meal.

The video has a full on painstakingly detailed tutorial, step by step, on how to make the tiny meal. Cutting regular sized spaghetti into tiny lengths, Sizzling small portions of minced meat on the frying pan and huh... who knew that hamster are actually omnivores, and likes eating meat... you always assumed they were vegetarians. In the video, the person takes two cherry tomatoes puts them through the blender for the sauce and it all looks rather simple.

You look down at Steven in his hamster form, sound asleep on your chest. He's curled up into a little ball, his nose and whiskers twitching in his sleep as his hind leg kicks back in response to whatever dream he's dreaming.

Adorable as he is, the pang of sadness from before returns as your chest constricts. You want to give him a sense of normalcy after everything he's been through. However small.

Carefully, you scoop him up in the cup of your hands and place him gently on the pillow. Luckily Steven is a sound sleeper and sleeps right through it as you move into the kitchen to prepare the meal according to the video instructions.

There's leftover spaghetti in the fridge, saving you from having to boil it fresh. You forego frying any meat, because even though hamsters may be omnivores, your Hamster Steven is a full blooded vegan.

You also decide to forego the blender. It's late and you don't want to wake up Steven so instead you end up trying to smash up the cherry tomatoes with a mortal and pestle that leaves an absolute mess.

With your sad attempts at a culinary effort completed, you pick up the tiniest little sauce bowl you can find in the cupboard, as you start to plate up the spaghetti and mashed tomato sauce, topping it off with fresh basil that you had luckily picked up from Sainsbury the other day.

It looks nowhere as good as the video, just looks like wilted spaghetti with a tiny pile of crushed tomatoes rather than a miniature version of spaghetti bolognese. but you guess that's why you're an office worker and not a hamster content creator. You try to tease the spaghetti back into place with your fingers until it looks a bit more decent.

Better.

But it's still a long way to go from the special dinner that you had wanted to make for Steven to make him feel pampered.

Turning to the kitchen drawers, you try to find the small tea candles to set the mood. It's as near a romantic ambient as you are able to create for Steven.

Then you find one of the nicer dinner napkins stowed away in the back of the drawer and set the table. While you're at it you grab several sprigs of rosemary and whatever fresh herbs you're able to find in the fridge and set them in a shot glass that you use as an impromptu mini vase, for the bouquet of herbs you have gathered. You place down your creation in the middle of the table, then you stand back admiring your work.

Not too shabby.

Almost looks like a tiny hamster restaurant.

You return to your bed, where you had left Steven to sleep. Paws still twitching peacefully in his sleep when you gently wake him by picking him up, and set him on the table.

He blinks slowly and blearily, sleep still clouding his gaze, not fully taking in what you are trying to show him. It takes a few moments, until his eyes clear and then they go wide at the meal in front of him and he darts forward like a sprint.

His little paws grabs at the straw of spaghetti voraciously, as he slurps up the spaghetti, flecks of red sauce painting the fur around his mouth. He eats it with an enthusiastic frenzy, gobbling up the whole of it and drops it in his excitement only to round the plate and pick it up again to eat the remainder.

"Is it good?"

His head pops up to meet your face, with the tiniest of nods.

He squeaks happily, then he dives right back into stuffing his face and you can't help but smile.

It's a little moment of normalcy even in this craziness and that's good enough for now.

Dedications & Credits: To my lovely @guruan / @guruan-is-not-here who has finally been freed from tumblr jail. This chapter is dedicated to her because she sent me the cutest video of a hamster having a tiny bowl of pasta and sitting on a chair like it was a restaurant.

#🐹 hamsteven #steven grant x reader #steven grant #moon knight #marvel mcu #oscar isaac

[dailyadventureprompts]

Drafting the Adventure: Dungeons Without Walls

I love the idea of dungeons, but there was a significant portion of my life as a DM where they didn’t feature in my games. While Pathfinder and 5e provided a great framework for character building and tactical skirmishes that I could build story on top of, neither was really great when it came time to detour into a  dungeon. My players tended to get confused when we headed out to plunder the local ruin or cave system, spending a lot more time figuring out where they were and what they should be doing than actually doing anything. 

The problem as it turned out was limited information.  I had a picture of the dungeon in my head/notes but I couldn’t telepathically infer that to the party, and the back and forth questions where they tried to orient themselves within my mental labyrinth ate up a lot of session time prevented us from attaining that snappy pace that every table needs to keep the players invested.

Recently though I had an epiphany about overhauling exploration in d&d, and wrote up a whole post detailing how you could build and run wilderness adventures the same way you could a heist or a murder mystery. Because I was already writing a series about dungeon design it didn’t take long for me to realize that this exploration overhaul was 100% applicable, and could solve a lot of the delay and confusion my players usually faced on their next trip underground.  Spoilers: it worked amazingly.

 The key to this overhaul was giving my players enough information to see the dungeon as a sort of abstract checklist, and then giving them the power to investigate and check things off that list in whatever order they wished, when they enter a new level of the dungeon they get a new checklist to fill out which still keeps that sense of exploration. Folk love checking things off lists, and I as a dungeonmaster love it when players engage with the content I’ve spent so much energy creating even if it’s only poking their head in the door to realize they want to run away as fast as possible. Likewise, designing the dungeon this way let me tackle much larger concepts without having to sweat the details of filling up every little room as I would have to in map-centric design.

To summarize my exploration mechanic as It applies to dungeons:

During Design: After you’ve got the dungeons’ major concept, you divide it into unique “zones” (essentially what might be levels in a regular dungeon) with an interconnected theme, mechanic, or threat.

Each zone has a number of points of interest, which can be anything from trails to follow, odd sights they might investigate, to full complexes of rooms that you’ve mapped out. You don’t need to map out the points of interest otherwise, they sort of float abstractly within the zone 

When players enter a zone, they become aware of its name and general descriptor, as well as how many total points of interest are in that zone. They also become aware of some points of interest immediately to serve as landmarks and give them a direction for their exploration, but most remain undiscovered until they venture off the path and start checking out their surroundings. Hidden among these points of interest are the doors that lead to zones deeper within the dungeon, encouraging the party to explore in order to progress.

During Play: When the players enter the dungeon, one player is appointed as the surveyor, who’s job it is to keep track of the zones, fill out that checklist, and check things off when the DM tells them that they’ve fully explored a point of interest.

Rather than needing to be aware of the exact room layout, the party just need to know what zone they’re in and what options are available to them, Because this information is delivered in the form of a checklist with empty spaces, the party know exactly how much of the dungeon they’ve explored, what’s left to explore, and when they’ve cleared out an area.

Lets take the image above as inspiration. Say the party is trying to make it up to the tower, you can easily see a progression of zones and maybe imagine a few to go alongside them:

Ruins & Foothills: The first area, filled with the remnants of an ancient civilization. Picked over by looters and now a home to all sorts of wildlife,

Mountainside: The obvious next goal, but locked off behind a challenging climb, Filled with hazards that threaten to knock the party back down to the foothills if they’re not careful

Caverns: Secret area accessible only if the party explore a cave on the mountainside, or make a beeline towards the old aqueduct landmark in the foothills, realizing it might be easier than the climb. 

Spire Foundations: The door connecting to the foothills is guarded by a complex puzzle and arcane ward, but the party might be able to sneak in through the caves where erosion has caused a breakthrough into the cellars.

Spire Peak: High among the clouds, the party’s prize is somewhere here.  Access to the upper sections of the tower are guarded by a territorial sphinx under arcane compulsion, though the party might just be able to skip that fight if they figure out the riddle to make the portal mirrors work in the foundations.

Trying to design all this by pencilling it in on a gridmap would take weeks, to say nothing of the headache it’d cause you trying to make things fit together and fill up empty space with content. Designing it first as a sequence of zones and then filling those out with interesting fights, puzzles, and encounters is the work of an afternoon or two. Likewise, its easy on your players: five zones with six to ten points of interest is far easier to tackle when you can make a checklist and see how much progress you’ve made, despite the fact that the area they’re exploring is quite vast. 

I hope you find this as useful as I have, and if you need a more concrete example of how it might work, don’t worry, I’ll have one of those for you in the coming days.

#dungeon design #dnd #dungeons and dragons #d&d #5e #dm advice #dm tip #dm tips #dm tools #writing advice #pathfinder #ttrpg #homebrew #5e homebrew #homebrew mechanic #exploration