#he who must not be named did great things - terrible- but great

[notafunkiller]

out of style

Summary: A year after your divorce, you and Bucky come face to face at your closest friends' wedding. Emotions run high, leading to a fiery confrontation that takes a detour to Bucky's hotel room, where the old flame might just reignite.

Pairing: ex-husband!Bucky Barnes x female reader

Warnings: 18+, teasing, dirty talk, pet names, daddy kink, fingering, oral séx, no condom (but f is on birth control), language, a little alcohol, no mention of y/n

Word Count: 7.2K

Bucky Barnes masterlist

A/N: I really hope you'll enjoy it!

Please, do not repost or translate without my permission!

What an ass... He has no shame at all. And the worst part? You’re still somehow surprised by it. As if you haven’t known him for years.

You look away, making sure to take a sip from your wine before focusing on the conversation again. It’s Nat’s big day, and you’re so happy for her, but listening to this story for the seventh time is exhausting. Same reactions, too: “Wow, he’s so well trained.” or “The wedding bands didn’t fall even once. Enzo is fantastic.” He’s a trained dog, you don’t get why they’re so fucking impressed.

You give Nat a smile before you excuse yourself to go to the bar. Maybe you should get a cocktail, the wine tastes terrible. On the way, you notice Steve talking to Miss Sunshine in the right corner, and you just nod toward him politely, trying to look unbothered. It’s his best friend’s girlfriend after all. What did you expect? Plus, maybe it’s just a polite conversation.

“A Sex on the Beach, please,” you murmur to the bartender.

“Vodka so early?”

You turn your head with a sigh just to see a guy you recognize from Nat’s engagement party. A fresh haircut, a simple suit and wandering eyes.

“Is there a time limit for a cocktail?” you respond, rolling your eyes when you notice he is still fixated on your chest.

He immediately raises his hands in defense as he takes a seat next to you.

God, if you hate one thing about being single besides the lack of sex is this… needing to deal with those men. It was perfect when Bucky used to take care of them.

“I didn't mean it like that, sweetheart.” You scrunch your nose instantly. God no!

“Here you go!” The bartender places the glass gently in front of you, and you’ve never been more grateful to see her.

“Thank you!” You smile before taking a huge sip, hoping it will turn him off and make him get away.

“A vodka tonic for me.” His tone is commanding, and you try not to roll your eyes again as he leans in closer. “We’re matching.”

“Huh?” You choke.

“Vodka lovers.”

Alright, time to get out of here!

You quickly grab your glass and stand up, making sure to fix your dress just in case, but his eyes are already on your breasts again. For fuck’s sake! How is he Steve’s cousin?

And talking about Steve, you almost jump when you hear him saying your name.

“Hey.” You’ve never been happier to see him.

You can’t say the same thing about his friend, who’s right next to him, looking the creepy blondie up and down.

“Is everything alright?” Steve asks with obvious concern.  “Do you feel okay?”

“Hey, man! The food is great and the company even better. Look at her, such an eye candy, am I right?” He chuckles at his own disgusting comment. “I mean, you’re married. Don’t answer that, I don’t want Romanoff on my back.” And after all of this, he has the audacity to wink at Steve. But before you can throw your cocktail over his shirt and make a scene, Bucky’s already getting in front of you, blocking your view with his huge back.

“If you want to keep your teeth, get the fuck out of here and never, ever get even within three feet of my wife. Am I fucking clear?”

His tone is so cold, harsh, and arrogant at the same time, but also so possessive. It surprises both: you and Steve, because he immediately looks at you confused before dropping his eyes on your hand.

He must be looking for a ring.

God, you never hated Bucky more than when you see blondie standing up and going straight outside just like that. It makes you even angrier because it’s always a man who has to explain the obvious signs to these assholes so they leave. You say no? You are playing hard to get. You are with a man? Then it’s all off-limits.

You sip your cocktail with frustration, the taste of vodka lingering on your tongue.

Then, you take a step toward Bucky, grabbing his arm and turning him so he can face you. “Listen and listen good, I’m not your wife and I don’t need you to play the macho hero! I can handle myself, so back off!” You wanted to leave after saying this, but the way he looks at you makes you change your mind. His eyes softened, showing a trace of your old Bucky, and it only pisses you off more. He labeled you just like that... “I divorced you for a reason, I’m not your property or responsibility. Stay out of my fucking business or I’ll show you exactly how well I can take care of myself!”

You hand him your half-full glass and storm out, seeing red. Or well, blue.

You anticipated that he’d come after you, of course you did. You know him, as much as you hate to admit. You still know him well. Too well.

And when you hear his sigh behind you, you don’t jump.

“You can handle yourself, but he was all over you. Sorry for being a gentleman.” He apologizes sarcastically. “I guess old habits die hard.”

“Too bad, Barnes! I am not your little wife. I am not your girlfriend. I am not even your friend.” You turn your head to look at him as he’s standing on the other side of the balcony. “And I am not that flavor of the month of yours, you have to kill these habits.”

He raises his head. “Flavor of the month?”

“Yeah, your plus one. You know, you should take care of her instead of trying to play hero and calling me your wife.”

“Keeping an eye on me? He smirks. “Thought you divorced me for a reason.”

Fuck him! He thinks he got you... “I did! You couldn’t open your mouth to say what bothers you, remember?”

“Well, I opened my mouth to do something else, far more exciting.”

You gasp, incredulous at his audacity.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” You scream, walking toward him. “Seriously!”

“What is wrong with me? You tell me! You divorced me for a reason.”

“Don’t you have someone else to bother? Fuck off already, Bucky!”

“You got angrier with me now than back there with him. Unbelievable!” He shakes his head.

You take a deep breath, trying not to have a crisis. You are not gonna let him get to you. “Look, can you just pretend this didn’t happen?”

He instantly looks at you shocked as he leans in. “This as in,” he waves between you two. “Our marriage? You think I can pretend our marriage never happened?” His voice grew louder, his words punctuated by sharp, angry inflections. “You think just because we divorced, you get to ask me that? How can you...”

You’re taken completely aback by his whole attitude, and it’s like you’re back in time at your wedding as he made you sneak out so he can make you come on his tongue after saying all sorts of things.

You don’t know why you suddenly remembered that, but you need to snap out of it.

“I meant the whole interaction, you annoying man!”

“How was I supposed to know?” He looks much more relaxed now, though, and before you can think about it, you’re poking his chest.

“Why would I tell you to forget about our marriage, Bucky?” You smile. “You are more than free to think about me as you fuck your little flavor of the month. I am not gonna stop that.”

You see his eyebrows raise instantly as his gaze drops to your finger. “My little flavor of the month? How many times did you think about me fucking her?” His hand finds your wrist. “Did you wonder if I’m fucking her from behind as I choke her? Did you imagine me coming all over her tits? Did you-”

You grab his cheeks, just the way he likes it, to stop him.

“You think I have nothing better to think about? I have my own dicks that occupy my thoughts,” you lie through your teeth, and he knows it. God, he knows it as he chuckles right away.

“What’s so funny, Barnes?” You let go, expecting him to do the same, but he’s still holding your other wrist.

“You have no dick to think about. I know you broke up with your last flavor of the month, honey.”

He knows how much you hate being mocked with the word honey, but you bite the inside of your cheeks. “It’s funny really,” you fake giggle, looking up at him. “You assume I don’t have someone already. Maybe I’m just enjoying my life after our divorce... new dick every month since I am a free woman. I don’t even need something serious. You know how much I love sex.”

His smile immediately drops, his face reddening.

“You are absolutely infuriating!” Even his tone carries a sense of irritation.

“Aww, what happened?”

It’s his turn to grab your face, making you gasp. You don’t remember the last time he touched you, and you’re shivering.

“You’re playing a very dangerous game, and you know it!”

“I don’t play games, Bucky, that is your specialty.” You smile, trying to maintain your composure. “Now let me go and get back to your little girlfriend. You can be mad about how many dicks she thinks about.”

“You can’t do the whole non-attachment shit. I know you well, don’t forget that. You’re my...” He talks so fast you’re surprised he stopped. You know what he was gonna say, of course you know. The audacity!

“I am not your wife, Bucky. You literally have a woman with you here tonight. We divorced, we live in separate places, and we fuck different people.”

“Who are you fucking, huh?” He almost spits the last words. “Tell me! Nat said you’re single.”

“You’ve been asking Nat about my personal life?” And she is spilling to him? No way.

“Fuck...” he frowns, dropping his hand from your face. “No.”

“Steve!” You realize. “God, this is pathetic! Why do you keep tabs on me, huh? Can’t you just mind your own business? Is your life goal to piss me off?”

“I’m not the one calling Jessica the flavor of the month.”

“Ha!” You laugh in his face. “Well, you have no success in getting a girlfriend. And they all look pretty familiar.” You can’t hide the venom in your voice. “The differences are they’re just taller and with less in the chest department. Quite interesting, don’t you think?”

“So you’re keeping tabs on me too!”

“You flatter yourself. It’s quite obvious, look at Jessica. Does she know you were married to me? Does she beg you to fuck her mouth? Does she...” You take a deep breath. “Does she call you daddy, James? Does she ride you until you lose control and turn her on her back so you can pound her?” You don’t care anymore. Right or wrong, you’re gonna let it all out. “Do you praise her? Tell her how wet she is for you? How your cock is made for her? Do you... do you tell her you love her while she’s coming? Do you fucking call her your good girl?”

“Jesus-” You don’t let him continue his sentence, interrupting him.

“Does she take you like I did? Does she beg for you because she feels empty, James? Does she? Did any of them?”

“Stop. It.”

“Why? You didn’t stop!”

He sighs, reaching out to grab your cheeks gently. “No one does, are you happy? I don’t even fucking try. I don’t let anyone call me daddy, I don’t choke anyone and I definitely don’t fuck anyone like I fucked you. Are you happy? Seeing me miserable and pathetic? Are you enjoying it?”

You can’t deny the satisfaction and relief you feel when you hear that. Dating post-him was a very bad experience overall, so him not upgrading, indeed, in any way, makes you feel victorious. At least, you’re both suffering.

“Yeah, I actually enjoy that.”

“What about you?” He snaps. “Do you do all of that?”

“I don’t want to be called daddy, James.”

“You know exactly what I meant! You call those losers daddy? You choke around their cocks? Do you beg for their small dicks to go deeper and finish yourself off after it?”

“Like I begged for your small dick?” You ask annoyed, knowing how dumb this lie is, but what else can you say? No one compares to him and never will.

His response shocks you as he reaches down to the zipper of his worn jeans and pulls it down.

“What the fuck are you doing? Are you crazy?”

“Wanted to, you know… give you more mocking material in case you forgot how small it is.”

You have to think twice about what to say because the first thought was: I have enough videos, thanks. But you can’t. You can’t expose yourself like that.

“James, what the fuck are you doing? Are you trying to hurt me?”

“With my small dick?”

You look away for a few seconds, not wanting him to read you. “Why are you doing this? We divorced, you’re seeing someone, I’m good by myself... just let it go.”

He smiles at that, and you realize you indirectly told him you are indeed not fucking anyone.

“Why would I let go of my wife?”

You’re slapping his chest before you realize what you’re doing. “Stop this, Bucky! Just fucking stop.”

He’s hurting you, how can he not see that?

“You said you divorced me for a reason. You said...” he pauses. “You ordered me to leave you alone. Well, what if I don’t want to?”

“What are you, a fucking stalker?”

“No!” He almost screams. “I am fucking in love with you, you infuriating woman!”

“W-what?”

He can’t be joking about this, can he? He is not cruel. He is not vile. This isn’t a game.

“I’m in love with you. I love you. You own me... you fucking control me.”

“How?”

He laughs hysterically, running his hands through his hair before pulling. “I am fucking obsessed with you: how you are, if you’re doing well, if you miss me, if you’re fucking someone else, if your date went great, if you regret being with me, if someone else makes you smile wider. I dream about you, I am so miserable I couldn’t be with anyone. With Mia it lasted a month. I wasn’t... I wasn’t okay. I am not okay.”

You look at him, waiting for more. “Go on and zip your jeans, we’re in public.” You  watch him quickly do what you demand before you continue. “And what about Jessica tonight? Or Alexa a month ago? Why are you lying to me?”

“It’s not real. Jessica... I was just trying to make you jealous, okay? I was sneaking looks all night, have you not noticed at all?”

You don’t smile, despite your huge instinct to. Instead, you cross your arms, watching him drop his gaze straight to your boobs.

“Why would I notice, James?”

“Well, how did you notice Jessica looking a little like you, that she’s with me here?”

Fair point...

“Just...” You’re suddenly gripped by this crazy urge to just fuck him right here. You even regret telling him to zip back up. You could have just lifted your dress as he lowered his briefs and took out his cock. And just like that, you could have just fucked against the wall or something. You would have let him rip off your panties too. You just need his cock so badly! “Shut the fuck up!” You snap, grabbing him by his neck so he can lean in enough for you to be able to kiss him. And oh, you kiss him!

You don’t have to fight to dominate the kiss, surprisingly, because he lets you. He lets you bite his lip and almost draw blood, he lets you unzip his pants again and push down his unfit-for-a-wedding jacket, and most importantly, he lets you be his again, as pathetic as that might sound. You feel him emotionally, not just physically.

Without wasting more time, you drop to your knees, making sure only your dress and shoes touch the floor directly. You drag down his pants and briefs at the same time from your position, and he looks at you surprised.

“I thought we’re in public and you were fucking some-” his words die as you bring your tongue to the head of his cock, tasting the precum, but not sucking even a little bit.

“Weren’t you saying something?” You tuck your hair strands behind your ears as you mock him. You love being on your knees for Bucky. He has this dominant energy, but he always makes you feel in power even when he fuck your mouth. And you enjoy it, you feed on it. One of the reasons you missed him so much. And he can take mocking. “Please go on. I am all ears.” You breathe out on his dick. “And tongue.”

“Oh god,” Bucky’s voice is a moan at this point, and you laugh. So easy...

“I’m your god now? Aww! Come on, do I have to do everything tonight?”

He looks down at you confused. His blue eyes are almost grey, and you know he’s on cloud nine already just because you’re there.

“What?”

“Oh, you need translation. Well,” it’s all you say before wrapping your lips around his dick and using both of your hands to push him as deep as he can go inside your mouth. He moans at the same time you gag, and his balls slap you in the face. He instinctively looks at you to ask if you’re okay, but you are more than okay. You are fucking alive. You encourage him to fuck your throat at this point by squeezing his ass cheeks and touching his balls.

“God, look at you! That pretty black dress…” He pulls out and back in not as forcefully as he can, but enough to make you start tearing up quickly. “On your knees for your man. That mouth!”

You find yourself moaning at the feel of his fingers grasping and tugging at your hair. Jesus, how you missed this...

“You have the sweetest mouth.” Does he even realize what he’s mumbling? “I could die right here. Right now,” he says and thrusts harder, which makes you close your eyes. You can barely see anything because of the tears, and he’s already close. “My pretty baby, my fucking girl.”

You’re getting wetter and wetter the more he talks, and it’s crazy. You’re cold and your jaw is hurting, yet you love this.

“Not caring if someone can catch us, just making sure you mark me again. God, I'm gonna come, baby. Gonna... should I p-pull-”

You don’t let him finish his sentence as you grab his ass to make sure you keep him there, in your throat, as he comes while moaning your name.

When he finishes, he immediately helps you stand up, before he kisses you desperately, his tongue immediately licking your bottom lip to get access. He lifts you up, wrapping your legs around his waist tightly. You moan in the middle of the kiss because his semi-hard cock is right where you need it, and it’s like torture...

“Need to taste you, okay, baby?” He asks with so much need in his voice. He sounds so whipped. “Need my pussy. Can I take you to my room?”

That is perfect, a dream at this point. But you need to make him a little more desperate.

“But the wedding… They would kill us.”

“I am sure you care sooooo much about this wedding and Nat’s stories. More than about getting my tongue on that pretty clit of yours and making you come all over my face.”

You can’t hold back your laughter.

“Fair point, Mr. Barnes. I deserve my orgasms, especially after listening to you pathetically trying to seduce me by admitting how desperate you are.”

“You dropped to your knees on this balcony just to mark my cock as yours.”

You pull his hair a little. “You said it yourself, it's already mine. Now get that ugly jacket and carry me.”

Bucky snorts, kissing your cheek. “You bought me that ugly jacket.”

“I know.”

*

You don’t know where you left your phone and even though you should feel panicked, you don’t. All you can focus on is Bucky taking off your dress and groaning at the sight of your cups. You couldn’t wear a full bra, so you improvised. They could barely hold your breasts, but no nipples showing? Win.

“Hurry up!”

“Jesus,” he moans and reaches for your cups. Desperate man... you roll your eyes, but let him uncover your breasts and grab them into his hands eagerly. He’s not just holding them, he looks and touches them as if he’s never seen boobs in his entire life, let alone yours.

“James...” You sigh, throwing your head back in pleasure when he finally gets your nipple into his mouth. Your hand finds his hair instantly, and you watch him suck happily while playing with your other nipple.

“You’re quite hungry,” you say with a smile, stroking his hair. You missed this so much. His need to always touch or sleep on your boobs, the way he grabs them while he’s pounding you... You shiver in anticipation when he switches to the other tit.

“Fucking shit, I missed them so much.”

You snort. “My boobs?”

“Mine.” He’s not sucking anymore, he’s eating them, shocking you.

“H-hold on a second, Bucky. They’re breasts, not my clit.”

“It’s been a year, love. Let me get my fill. I died without them. Died!”

As much as you wanted to think only about the part he missed your boobs, you can’t help the jealousy that clouds your mind. You were divorced, yet the image of him sucking someone else’s tits makes you want to hit a wall. Mia all over him... You pull his hair angrily. “You surely had other tits in your mouth, Bucky, for the past year. Don’t pretend this is any different.”

He immediately stops sucking. “You... you can’t believe this. Tell me you don’t believe this.”

You look away, too proud to face him. “What am I supposed to believe, huh? It’s been one fucking year.”

“I’ve been yours this whole year. I’ve been thinking about you, fucking my fist while watching... our videos, as fucked up as it might be. I tried to date, but I failed, and trust me, it has nothing to do with the size of my dick and my age. No one is you. No one smells like you or talks like you. No one is my brat with the god complex.”

“God complex?” You raise your eyebrow, keeping your face straight. “Fuck you.”

“I will fuck it out of you as I usually do, don’t worry.”

“Then why does it keep coming back?”

He chuckles. “Because you want to get fucked all the goddamn time.”

“Like you don’t!” You puff. “Come on, I breathe in your direction and you get hard, Bucky.”

“Did you see yourself? Did you have sex with yourself? You cannot judge me!” He grabs your breasts again. “There is no comparison, okay? You have no rival. Never did, never will.”

“That’s all?” You puff, amused. “My looks?”

“Do I even have to say… Your god complex exists for a fucking reason. You’re the smartest, most sarcastic, and feistiest person I’ll ever meet. One mocking comment, and you know how I get.”

“Pathetic?” You mock him on purpose just to get the reaction he is talking about. You love it when he compliments you.

“Is this why you divorced me? Cause I am a pathetic son of a bitch?”

You  take a deep breath. “I divorced you because you refused to communicate properly with me anymore, and you know it.”

“So not because of my small dick, either,” he remarks, making you roll your eyes.

“No, your small dick is one of the reasons I am here.”

Bucky dramatically touches his heart. “So you’re using me for my sex skills!”

“As if you don’t beg me to use you. Come on, put that mouth to good use before Nat comes after us.”

He doesn’t disappoint as he finally rips your underwear off, just like you fantasized about, and you use this as the perfect opportunity to fish for more.

“What happened, Jamie? So eager. Aren’t you a little good-”

The word boy comes out as a moan when you feel his index finger curled up inside you suddenly.

“What happened, honey? Too big for you?”

“Dick!”

“You’ll get that. I just need to erase the memories of having little pencils in here. That must have been traumatic.”

“You’re such a jerk!” You snort, but he’s right. It was really bad.

Bucky shrugs, finally kneeling properly between your legs before lifting them on his shoulders. God, yes!

“Gonna give my pussy some loving.”

“D-didn’t know you have a pussy, James.”

He smiles against your inner thigh. “I certainly keep what I lick.”

“Eww, what the fuck.”

He snorts, kissing your slit. “I am joking, baby. Tried to imitate one of those dicks you thought you could replace me with.”

Petty fucking bitch! You grab him by his hair and push him closer to your pussy.

“Shut the fuck up and eat!”

His tongue feels like heaven, indeed, on your clit. You’ve lost count of how many times you remembered him eating you out so you can come this year. He's just so good at eating your pussy.

You let out a satisfied sigh when he adds a second finger. You start to feel like before… like you and Bucky are still married and with no problem. Like you're happy. He makes you so happy. Made.

So you stare at his hair and stroke it as he sucks on your clit, completely squashed between your thighs, and try to hold back your tears.

When he adds his third finger and starts tracing eight figures on your clit with his tongue before he flattens it, you know you’re about to come.

There is something about the way he always manages to make you vulnerable even if it’s not intentional, to cut you open and get in... and you don’t want it to be over. You can’t let him go again after tonight. You’d suffocate.

Your efforts to delay your orgasm and not tear up are futile because when he sucks a little harder, you come and start sobbing somehow. The orgasm is strong and even though you’d want to watch Bucky, you close your eyes, letting yourself go, and shut your mind down for a second. Everything feels so overwhelming. So amplified…

You’re grateful he doesn’t stop fucking you with his fingers, either, even though you felt him hesitating when he heard you crying. You really needed this.

As soon as you finish, you drop your legs, furiously trying to wipe your face. He knows the difference between crying because of a crazy orgasm and you being emotional. He instantly gets back on the bed next to you and pulls you into the tightest hug you’ve had in two years.

“God, I’m...” You don’t know how to continue this phrase. You should not feel sorry for crying and you’re not pathetic for it. “I m-missed you so much, Bucky. Why did you give up?”

You feel his warm breath on your forehead. “I never gave up, baby, I swear.”

“B-but you did. You didn’t even try for more than six months. When I told you...” You take a deep breath. “That I want a divorce, you didn’t even look at me. Once, Bucky! Not even once…” You show him your index finger. “You simply agreed. You gave up on us. I was waiting for you to say: no, let’s try. No, I’ll communicate. Your words...” You sob. “Your words would have been enough for me. You should know that.”

“Oh my god, baby, please, breathe!” He kisses your forehead over and over again. “I never gave up, I swear. I wanted to say no, I wanted to tell you all of that, but you asked me for divorce. It felt like you wanted out. You were tired of fighting... you were tired of me. And I didn’t want to tell you to stay just so you could either stay with me out of pity or reject me. I would have died... To look at you and beg, and to see you detached.”

You shake your head into the crook of his neck. He cannot...

“How would I be detached if I tried for six months? How would I get tired of you?”

“Exactly. You tried for six months. I thought you snapped out of it...”

“Out of what?” You whisper, scared to say it louder, but he hears you anyway.

“Out of love.”

You immediately lift your head to look at him. He’s crying, too. “Bucky...” You bring your fingers to his cheeks and start to caress them.

“I just couldn’t remember us like this. I couldn’t look into your eyes and see you staring at me like I’m a stranger.”

“Jesus Christ, when did we fail to communicate this much?”

He knows you don’t expect an actual answer, so instead of speaking, he holds you, and kisses you, and makes you giggle.

The more you move into his lap, the better you feel his erection pressing against your pussy. So close, yet so far.

He groans, placing his hands on your hips. “Careful.”

“Well, I don’t want you to be careful. I want you to fuck me raw right now.”

“Right now? He snorts, using his position to his advantage and moving. And just like that, you’re suddenly pressed with your back against the bed, and his mouth covers the valley between your breasts. That didn’t take a lot of convincing.

“Did you fuck anyone else without protection?” You ask unsure how to formulate it without it sounding a little weird. You’re not even sure you want to know the answer if it’s positive, but still.

“No. Only condoms and well... to be honest more my fist,” he chuckles, helping you get on your back again by bringing a pillow under your head. “I tested myself, of course.”

You nod, trying to hide your happiness. You selfishly wanted this: no one but you to feel him without any barrier.

“Good.”

“What about you?”

“No one for me, either.”

You would laugh at his proud face if you didn’t know he might use it to tease you later. You can use it too, though.

“Come on, baby, spread your legs for me. Daddy’s home.”

You laugh surprised, but you do what he says. You really missed having him between your legs.

Needy, you reach for his T-shirt, that for some reason is still on, and you tug it down, showing him you want it off.

He hesitates for a couple of seconds too long before grabbing his T-shirt by the neck.

“Come on, what did you do? Got a tattoo?”

You get your answer as soon as he’s finally naked.

“Oh, God!” You instantly lift your hand so you can grab his necklace. “What the fuck, James...”

“I told you I never gave up on us.”

“So you’re telling me you’ve been keeping it on since we divorced?”

He blushes, looking away. “Yeah.”

“Even when you were with other girls?”

Your heart is racing.

“Never took it off.”

You giggle, touching the surface of the ring over and over again.

“No wonder why nothing worked.”

“I had no intention to make it work.”

You say nothing, just looking into his eyes and letting him see how fucking much you love him, how he could never be a stranger, and you kiss him, wrapping your legs around his ass to show him what you need.

“I want you to pound me, okay? I want to feel you for days, do you hear me? I am so wet and ready. Please, just fuck me!”

You shiver a little when you feel the back of his hand brushing against your clit while he brings his cock to your entrance.

“Gonna make you mine again, alright? Gonna make you forget this year and everyone who,” He finally thrusts inside you. “Tried to get you.”

He’s thick. Really thick, and you can’t believe how you managed to survive without this stretched-out feeling for a whole fucking year.

“I hate you so much!’

He snorts. “I am pretty sure you love me. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have my cock inside you after one year.”

“This is the problem!” You hiss when he pulls almost completely out. “One year, Bucky!”

“Aww!” He says a bit mockingly before thrusting all the way in again. Oh my God... you close your eyes. “Is this your bratty way of telling me you missed my small dick?”

“Bratty? You think this is bratty?” You ask him sarcastically before bringing a hand to his ass. “Harder!”

“Harder, huh?” He quickly unwraps your legs and turns you on your belly before you can react.

You gasp, shocked by how fast he is and hating the emptiness, but he ignores it, bringing a pillow under your pussy.

“Ass in the air, come on.”

You comply immediately, staring at his face from the side. He looks like he’s on a mission, with his hair already in all directions and the wedding band hanging around his neck.

The first thing you feel is his mouth on your ass cheek, licking on a spot before biting.

You hiss. “James!” It hurts, not more than a spanking, but you weren’t ready for that.

“Mine.”

You snort, wiggling your ass. “Yeah, yeah. Now gimme my cock.”

And he does. He so does, he’s not slowly entering you, no. He pushes in almost fully with only one thrust, making you bite into your pillow.

“You missed that, didn’t you? The way I fill you up is so good. The way...” He slaps your ass. “No one can make you feel so good. No one can fuck you like the desperate whore you are for my cock.”

You moan loudly into the pillow. You love being called a whore like this. Because he is right and he is obsessed with it, anyway. “B-Bucky...”

“Tell me whose cock you love? Tell me.”

He’s thrusting so fast at this point that you can barely even hear him.

“Bucky.”

“No, no, no. That is not what you call me like this.”

“James...”

He suddenly stops thrusting, and you whine, lifting your spinning head to look at him over your shoulder. No matter how much you try to tilt your hips to make him move, you fail.

“If you want to get fucked, baby, you gotta call me the right-”

“Daddy. Daddy, daddy. Happy now?”

He rolls his eyes, obviously not that happy with your tone.

You smirk.

“I see you need a lot of battiness fucked out of you.”

“Then why are you not fucking me, daddy?”

“Oh, goddamn it!” He’s not holding back now, moving like he used to. “Tell me, baby. Tell me you love me... that no one, fuck- no one is like me!”

His voice tinges with a hint of neediness... maybe even urge. His vulnerability takes you a little aback because it’s stronger than his mocking. He’s genuinely seeking for reassurance as he gazes at you with a mixture of desire, desperation and longing. He’s searching for validation in your eyes the way you were earlier, so you give it to him.

“You’re the only one for me, J-James. I love you forever. I never... I n-never stopped!” You can’t keep your head up a second longer as you drop it on your pillow, moaning.

“We’re getting married tomorrow.”

You half-snort, half-moan. “W-we can’t.”

“We can.” The sound of his balls slapping against your pussy almost covers the sound of his voice.

“We... we have to apply first.”

He spanks your ass again, and you scream, the sudden pain making you feel so good.

“So wet for me. They stood no chance. T-they don’t know how hard you want it.”

“Daddy, please... Please!” You’re a moaning mess. You just need a little harder. Just a little.

You’re not sure if you’re gonna have a voice after this. He’s pounding you so hard.

“My good, good girl.” He’s squeezing your hips, and the sound of your skin slapping is echoing. “God, gonna come for me? Jesus, wanna fill you up with my come too. Please, baby.”

You don’t know when or how he manages to do it, but he sneaks one of his hands under your body and pinches your nipple. You gasp, the wave of pleasure hitting you as he keeps fucking you. You feel your body weakening when he says your name over andl over again, but you don’t open your eyes for a while, letting him fuck you desperately while playing with your breast.

“Gonna- fuck, take my come, wife! Take me!”

He’s coming so much... surprisingly much even for him. You can feel him dripping down your thighs even when he slows down, then stops his movements before he falls on top of you as soon as he finishes.

“James...” You groan. “You’re heavy.”

He places a small kiss on your back, and you giggle.

“I love you.”

You melt, but he moves to the side before you can reach for his cheeks.

“I love you, too.” You kiss him. “So much that I let you drag me out of my best friend’s wedding reception.”

Bucky snorts, brushing his nose against your face. “Pretend all you want, I know you were bored as fuck.” You feel him slowly pulling out of you, and you whine. It’s a little uncomfortable. “Sorry, wifey.”

“I’m not your wife yet.”

“Yet, but you were and you will be again this week.” He takes your ring finger into his mouth.

“Bucky!”

“What? We need new rings.”

You try to pull out your finger. “No, we don’t. I have mine.”

“We need...”

“How about we use all that money for a vacation instead?”

“Neah, honeymoon is honeymoon.”

He finally lets your finger go. “We are not buying other wedding bands.”

“I am not debating a new engagement ring, though.”

You roll your eyes, but you know it’s the best deal you can get.

“Fine, a new engagement ring,” you agree while rolling ro his side and placing your head on his chest. “I don’t wanna move.”

“Don’t want to or can’t?”

You decide to surprise him by biting a spot right above his nipple. He groans while you simply laugh.

“You just can’t be subtle, can you?”

“If you’d wanted subtle you’d have gone for someone like Steve.”

“Eww, Bucky. I have your come dripping out of me and you bring up Steve?”

“You literally talked about Nat a sec ago.”

Then, as if a switch was flipped, your eyes widen. “Oh shit, my phone!”

“Where did you forget it?” Bucky asks casually, so used to gathering your things for you. You really missed that, too.

“Table. God... Do you think they know?”

“Know what?” He giggles, raising both of you until your backs touch the headboard. “That you dropped on your knees in the middle of the wedding to suck my cock? Or how I fucked you raw until you cried.” A sudden realization crosses his face. “You asked me to fuck you raw. Are you... still on the pills?”

You roll your eyes. “You think I’d let you fuck me like this for the first time we talked to each other properly since we divorced if there was a big chance to get pregnant?”

“I assume you are still on the pills, don’t be patronizing!” He kisses your nose, which he knows tickles you.

Ass...

“You are asking a dumb question instead of getting your ass downstairs to bring me my phone.”

“How is that dumb? I wanted to know if I should get you a pill or something.”

“So you don’t want babies with me!” You try not to laugh as you say it, biting your lip to keep your face serious.

“Why do you act as if I told you I don’t want a baby with you?” He chuckles when he sees you pouting. “We’re just getting back together and no way you’d want a baby now. But if I am wrong, let’s go for it. I can give you a baby, just get off the pills.”

“You don’t give me a baby, James. We have a baby together!”

He sighs, getting off the bed to get his clothes back on. “Obviously, but I am the one coming inside you. This is what I meant. I am all in. But we need some adapting time at least.”

You should stop this whole teasing-testing thing. You both have the same opinion after all. You might have a baby, and you know he’d be involved one hundred percent, but not now. Absolutely not.

“I know. Thanks for asking.”

“You’re such a tease.” He snorts, putting on his pants. “Before I go, do you want me to run you a bath or should I bring you a towel?”

“Do you plan on staying there?”

He turns his head to you instantly. “Yeah, sure. I am gonna eat some steak and brag about fucking my wife.”

“Alright, alright. Bring me a snack and we can take a bath together. Actually,” you think about it better. “I’m gonna clean up and wait for you.”

“You want me to fuck you again, don’t you?” He asks as he fixes his jacket.

“Why? Is this all you could give me?”

“Oh, fuck you!”

“Sure.” You spread your legs at the same time you grab your own breasts, making him groan. It’s so easy to get to him. And it’s hilarious.

“Jesus, you’re planning to kill me.”

“Not you acting as if it’s the first time this happened.”

“It is the first time in over a year, baby.”

You feel yourself softening again. “True. Now, please, please, please, don’t give them any details and bring me a snack.”

“What snack?”

“Anything, make me a plate, I don’t care.” He nods before reaching for the keys. “Oh, and Bucky? Tell your flavor of the month you don’t need her anymore.”

“I told you she is not-”

“And tell Nat I’ll make it up to her!” You interrupt him before he can finish his sentence. You don’t need him to defend a random girl’s honor.

“You’re so jealous.”

“Lock the door!”

You giggle satisfied when he closes the door and let yourself scream out of happiness while staring at the bite he left on your ring finger. Mrs. Barnes never got out of style.

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfic #ex-husband!bucky barnes #divorced!bucky barnes #bucky barnes au #bucky barnes fluf #bucky barnes angst #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x you #marvel fanfic #marvel fanfiction #my fanfics #my stories

[margaretthatchersdead]

Reasons to end the monarchy: Charles Edition

Well it's the coronation so you know what it's time for.

The entire concept of a monarchy is actively undemocratic. The head of state should not be someone who is only in that position because they were born into a certain family.

Having a monarchy upholds classism as a specific family of great wealth and power are viewed as superior to others.

They stand for a history of racism and imperialism. This country has done some truly terrible things in its history and the monarchy are a symbol of that. In order to attempt to begin to undo the harm that we have done, we need to remove this symbol of oppression.

The royal family have previously lobbied the government to hide their own personal wealth. Despite this, we are obviously aware that they have a large amount of wealth.

Prince Charles has himself lobbied the government on a number of occasions. His 'black spider memos' show that he has repeatedly pressured ministers on a wide range of topics from the Iraq war to badger culling to alternative therapies. He has used his power to lobby the government on subjects that would affect him.

The monarch does not occupy a ceremonial role as is frequently claimed. Ministers and civil servants have to consult the monarch. Civil servants have to get the consent of the royals on pieces of legislation, which can cause delays on implementation.

Even if the monarch did occupy a purely ceremonial role, as a literal billionaire he wields a ridiculously high amount of power over people.

Windsor Castle brings in less money than Windsor Legoland does. The many castles that are owned by the royal family could be used to create spaces for the public to enjoy or to be used as a shelter for the homeless. The Louvre in Paris used to be house of the French monarchy and gets over twenty times the tourists. Edinburgh castle hasn't had the monarchy live in it for centuries and yet still brings in tourism.

Prince Andrew is widely known to be connected to Jeffrey Epstein; yet he has not had to face any repercussions for his actions despite blatantly lying when being asked about his actions. The royal family have defended him and prevented him from facing the consequences of his actions.

They cost around £334 million per year. This money could be used to help the poor, given to the NHS, to repair and build infrastructure, to support small businesses that are struggling, pretty much anything.

The royal household publishes a much lower figure about the cost of the royal family, so they are actively trying to cover up their cost.

Charles has had access to confidential Cabinet papers, undermining our democracy.

He has publicly championed alternative medicine and has repeatedly promoted it. He sent at least seven letters to the Medicines and Healthcare products Regulatory Agency, that then shortly relaxed the rules governing the labeling of herbal products, ones he as part of Charles's Duchy Originals produces.

He lobbied the health secretary regarding greater provision of alternative treatments on the NHS.

In 2018, 46% of Britons wanted him to abdicate immediately after Elizabeth died. He’s barely wanted by the country even with the sheer amount of pro-monarchy propaganda going around. Charles specifically is very unpopular.

In order to speak to him, broadcasters had to sign a 15-page contract, which includes Clarence house attending the rough and fine cut edits of films and if unhappy can remove that contribution, as well as stipulating that all questions directed at him must be pre-approved and vetted by his representative.

His personal wealth is £1.8 billion. He inherited a large amount of this from Elizabeth, with it being exempt from inheritance tax. Having an immunity from this tax when others don’t is ridiculous.

The Duchy of Cornwall was named in the Paradise papers.

The coronation is going to cost £100 million during a cost of living crisis.

People have been banned from protesting Charles with official warning letters were sent to anti-monarchists.

Protestors who block roads, airports and railways could face an entire year behind bars. Locking yourself to others, objects or buildings could go to prison for six months and face an unlimited fine. Police are allowed to head off disruption by stopping and searching protestors that they suspect.

The public were encouraged to swear allegiance to the new King when he gets sworn in, this is a deeply disturbing suggestion.

He's a billionaire who's going to use the public's money to celebrate himself.

The monarch has sweeping immunity from many laws

He owns business parks and small rented cottages, six of the ten top residential homes, 285,000 acres of mineral rich land. He’s ridiculously rich in a country where so many people are facing extreme poverty.

#uk politics #british royal family #fuck the monarchy #imperialism #royals #king charles III #may he end up like the first

[bella-goths-wife]

I really enjoy your work with the Vees and Sound manipulation Reader, I’m curious about how Alastor would react to the fact the Vees having a ‘pet’ with that power?

Alastors reaction to the Vs pet

Warnings: alastor, violence, terrible foreshadowing, poor reader is uncomfortable

Alastor had actually met you before you became the Vs pet, just before his 7 year disappearance

You were a fresh soul in hell and just figuring out how to survive and use your ability to your advantage

It was quite similar to how you met vox, you were unaware of how powerful alastor was and you tried to surprise attack him with your ability so you could rob him

You used your sound manipulation to create a loud noise in his ears to try and shock him but a shadowed hand grabbed you before you could do anything more

“Afraid that won’t work on me, my dear” he said with an irritated grin as he turned to you “now, why don’t you tell me your name and what you think your doing”

His shadows had tightened around you as you hurriedly explained your situation and begged for mercy

There was something so familiar about you to alastor, your eyes almost looked identical to someone he once knew

He examined you carefully and took in your appearance as you begged and couldn’t shake the feeling of familiarity that seemed to come from looking at your eyes

“Well my dear, considering your also a fellow lover of music I’ll forgive you for your ignorance” alastor had said with a grin as his shadow let go of you and you fell to the ground “come along darling, I wish to discuss many things with you”

He bought you dinner and watched as you ate it with gusto, realising how hungry you must have been

He had you explain your ability to him in great detail with the promise of more food if you did so

He noted that it was unusually generous of him, but he just couldn’t shake his curiosity

After you explained everything to him, he simply nodded and with a click of his fingers he gave you more appropriate clothes to keep you warm

He gave you the simple advice of learning who to charm and who to steal from, promising you that he believed you had the ability to charm the entire pentagram of you used your abilities correctly

After that he disappeared and a few years later you worked for vox

Upon alastors return, you crossed his mind a few times a week as he wondered what happened to you

It wasn’t until he saw you on angel dusts cellphone and questioned him about it

He said that what alastor saw was a post on velvette’s social media, and the post featured a picture of you dressed in lavish clothes that matched velvettes

Velvette had her hand resting on your shoulder as she commanded you to pose, and alastor couldn’t help the look of disgust that crossed his face

In truth, after hearing of Charlie’s hotel he had hoped to find you and enlist your help for his own entertainment

But to see you with the Vs, who exploited your ability in all the wrong ways, he felt nothing but more disgust and resentment towards them

When he said you should charm people so you could survive, he meant people who were worth more than those tacky Vs

And the worst part of it was that he still felt some type of familiarity from you, and his intrigue wouldn’t let him just let him let it go

So don’t worry darling, alastor will find a way to speak to you somehow

He has to, he needs to figure out what connection you have to him to make you so intriguing

And to find out why only you and him shared music based abilities

#hazbin hotel vox #hazbin velvette #hazbin hotel vees #hazbin hotel valentino #hazbin valentino #hazbin vox #hazbin spoilers #yandere hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel #hazbin alastor #yandere vox x reader #vox x reader #velvette x reader #yandere velvette x reader #yandere valentino #valentino x reader #alastor x reader #yandere alastor x reader

[piratecaptainscaptainpirates]

There's definitely a conversation to be had about the presentation of real historical figures in historical fiction, I think. As both a professional historian (PhD student 🤘🏾😔) and a man of color, I'm a bit more sensitive to this than a lot of people, and for me it always comes down to the question - what real harm is being done here?

And that's where I think OFMD does well enough for me to be comfortable. If you look at the fact that the show is based on real-life terrible people who did awful things and participated in the slave trade and you don't wanna fuck with the show, that's completely understandable, but I find it so much more palatable than (for the easy comparison) a piece of media like Black Sails (I actually like Black Sails, believe it or not, but there are a lot of things about how it treats many of these same figures that make me uncomfortable).

Now, yes, OFMD is hand-wavey with the slave trade in the Caribbean. None of our main characters own slaves or directly reference the slave trade (again, this is a romcom, I'd be shocked if they did). For me, this works alright for two big reasons. First, there are things that I think you can include in a romcom and have it still be a romcom, and a thoughtful, respectful depiction of the slave trade would take the show firmly out of romcom territory. Second, the show doesn't pretend racism doesn't exist, it treats its characters of color as three-dimensional people, and we always get the last laugh when racism is depicted. The very first episode sets the scene by having racist English Navy officers demean and call a Black character "slave" and they immediately get their asses kicked for it. Compare this to a show like Black Sails, where one of my main criticisms is how we're expected to sympathize with characters who actively participate in the slave trade and own slaves.

My other thing here is the people OFMD is working with are both heavily mythologized and not treated with any degree of historical accuracy. Many of our characters who are famous pirate names you might know are nothing like their real-world counterparts (take pirate queen Zheng Yi Sao, who wasn't even born yet when the show takes place). We know so little about any of the real people, anyway, that OFMD doesn't even bother trying to get anything right.

Like I said, I'm a professional historian and I love working with the golden age of piracy. That's a big reason I was drawn to this show in the first place! And if there's one thing I know, it's that pirates have been made into legends. We know very little about the real people, and in pop culture they're just myths.

The characters in OFMD are basically fictional characters working with the loose mythology based around the real people.

Now, back to my big thesis here: are the real, awful people benefitting in any way from OFMD taking these characters and making them into the good guys? Realistically, no, I'd argue. Most people with any critical thinking skills know that real pirates were not good people. Many people think Blackbeard is a made-up generic pirate character as it is. I've been to the real-life Stede Bonnet's grave site (NOT for the show, this was years before it aired and I was visiting the archives there to see the trial documents for a research project), and the historic marker there says he was "brought to justice." No one is wataching this show and thinking "oh those real guys must have been pretty great dudes!" because it's not about those real people.

This show isn't trying to change your perception of the real people, it's showing you fictional characters with the same names. One of our characters is runnig around in crocs, this show isn't trying to teach you about history or the real people and it's obvious.

If you're put off by the premise, I get it! But I just don't buy the idea that OFMD is putting anything harmful into the world just by existing.

#ofmd #our flag means death

[nishloves]

few months ago; kwon soonyoung (svt)

pairing : switch!reader x fratboy!switch!hoshi (svt)

words : 3.8k (approx.)

theme : oneshot, fluff, smut, mutual pining, fwb to lovers, smut with slight plot

warnings : smut (18+), cursing, oral, degradation, praise, a little bit of spanking, overstimulation, jealousy, soft-rough and passionate sex, appearance of jihoon!

unedited so please don't mind any weird sentence framing, I will definitely proofread it when I get some free time <3

request by @aaniag <3

@kflixnet

things between you and soonyoung were strictly inclusive, unofficial, secret, confidential— however you may say it. just a few months ago, you were just friends, sending each other random texts, partying, hanging out occasionally, hyping each other up for new dates; just a few months ago, you were unaware about his skills.

now, in your five years of knowing soonyoung, you knew just how great and genius of a dancer he was, just how strong his vocal prowess is and how- if he put in any effort— how well he could rap.

you remembered how happy he was when he introduced himself with his college stage name— hoshi. and you were so glad because finally he would be able to showcase his moves on larger grounds.

but you weren't talking about those skills, were you?

you sipped your drink as liquor burned down your throat, wincing you looked around the party only for your eyes to land at jihoon— one of the best friends of soonyoung. his permed black hairs traced his delicate face as he seemingly ignored the obscene music of the wild frat, drinking and indulging himself in his alcohol. you didn't and would never understand how a person like jihoon landed soonyoung as his friend.

and there, your thoughts drifted back to soonyoung again, just a few months ago, soonyoung had become a gym rat, just a few months ago you had haphazardly slurred, "you're so fucking hot soonie~" in his ears and just a few months ago, soonyoung had kissed you so ferociously that you were almost fooled into thinking that he wanted you for years.

just a few months ago, you and soonyoung abashedly woke up tangled in each other's arms, just a few months ago you both had embarrassingly admitted that it was the best sex of your life and just a few months ago hoshi put forward the notion of being friends with benefits, strongly emphasising the point of 'no strings attached.'

you adjusted the strap of your little black dress as you forcefully looked at jihoon and came to admiring his features again, how soft and pale his skin looked, how cold he seemed yet his words were always warm and how his biceps bulged out of his simple white shirt with its sleeve rolled up.

you remembered how you had scoffed at people who were "friends with benefits", mocking them for having commitment issues but never had you ever assumed that you would be stuck in the same pickle with a tag of "strictly friends with benefits" on your head.

oh how you despised soonyoung for making your heart mushy whenever he did something even remotely romantic and how you hated him for giving you best orgasms every. single. time.

you couldn't fall for soonyoung, you can't fall for soonyoung, you must not fall for soonyoung.

you reminded yourself as you looked at jihoon— he looked like someone who would want a committed relationship, who could make you feel secure with his words and not to mention he was terribly hot. you both had talked a few times and you wondered, well why not shoot the shot?

you should probably refrain from taking decisions under the influence.

you gathered your courage as you walked up to jihoon who warmly smiled at you as you sat opposite to him, starting a small talk. you vaguely remembered how jihoon laughed at one of your remarks, how you had sneakily held his hand, how his eyebrow quirked up with a smirk etching on his face. but instead of your talk with jihoon you remembered seeing soonyoung for the first time that day, his hair dyed to blonde as he rowdily danced on the centre table, soon his eyes met yours.

you reluctantly peered your gaze away from soonyoung to jihoon, who laughed at your innocent bambi eyes.

"are you trying to make soonyoung jealous, y/n?" jihoon had asked, inching closer to you.

"why would I try to make him jealous?" you muttered, tracing circles on jihoon's knuckles as you heard his deep chuckle.

"well— aren't you both very close?"

"did soonyoung say something?"

"not exactly."

"then we aren't," you muttered as you leaned towards jihoon, who gently grasped your shoulder as he whispered, "if you want a kiss, I will give it to you— it won't mean anything, but are you sure you aren't making any mistake?" jihoon asked, his eyebrows scrunching up in worry as he steadied you.

you eyes captured soonyoung's again as bile rose up in your throat, you felt happy that you were hitting on jihoon, who was sober than most and was probably wiser than you.

"sorry," you mumbled, "gonna kiss you."

"go ahead doll," jihoon replied as you captured his lips in yours, with the corner of your eye you could see soonyoung flinch. the kiss wasn't much— although you were sure that it was because of how hard your heart raced when you seemingly made an eye contact with soonyoung in middle of the kiss. though you must applaud jihoon for his skills.

"hmm, work done?" jihoon asked as he smirked at you while you hunched back in your seat.

you didn't see soonyoung getting up and walking towards you until he stood right next to you and said, "sorry jihoon-ah, need y/n's help for something."

jihoon waved him off as soonyoung grabbed you by your arm, nearly yanking you off to one of the rooms as he closed the door behind him.

you could see that he was seething under his calm demeanor, you could see that he was furious.

his mouth attached to your throat as you gasped feverishly, was soonyoung jealous?

"trying to get into jihoon's pants now, aren't you slut?" hoshi spat as he pushed you against the wall, one of his hands situated between your head and the wall as you remembered how once you had smacked yourself hard into the wall when you were messily making out with soonyoung, making you both flutter into laughter.

your heart felt warm because after that, soonyoung always took care to not push you as fervently into the wall.

"didn't get my attention for a few days and now you're turning into a whore? that too in front of me?" he raged as his lips trailed small kisses down your face, his hot breath fanning your cold skin. "that too my best friend! aren't you becoming gutsy baby?" he growled as he slammed his lips onto yours while you reciprocated the gesture. his tongue swirled around yours as he explored your mouth, his teeth bit your lip as you hissed in slight pain, making hoshi's other hand which had caged you slide up your dress.

"soonyoung~" stop, stop making me fall for you.

"so the little doll can speak now, can't she?" he whispered against your face as your thighs clenched together— maybe you will address the issue of your heart some other day.

soonyoung passionately kissed you again, his lips nipping on your lower lip as his hands were now buried in your hairs, angling your face to kiss you into frenzy, kissing you farther, deeper.

"you liked it when jihoon called you doll, didn't you? you want me to stop and call jihoon?"

"don't stop..." you mumbled as you broke in front of soonyoung, he was like a drug— insatiable, ethereal— you could never stop loving that face.

"you would have loved it if it was jihoon instead of me, wouldn't you?"

he whispered as he slid his hands underneath your dress, sliding your panties to the side as he pumped in his fingers without any warning, making you gasp as you chanted his name.

there was a slight anger and desperation in his voice as your knees buckled because of instant friction, you leaned onto soonyoung's shoulder as you gasped everytime his fingers performed wonders for you.

"no soonie- no one can fuck me like you."

"yeah, that's why you were flirting with jihoon like a whore."

he was angry, you could see it, you could feel it. as much as soonyoung was open for anything, he despised sharing— something you found odd for the label of no strings attached at all.

you were so near now, so full, and wanting so much more than soonyoung was offering you right now.

your hands trailed under his shirt as you felt his abs, making soonyoung chuckle.

"look at you, so drunk on me when I have just touched you— makes me think, would you touch jihoon like that?"

no. i wouldn't. i can't.

you had fucked other boys when you got yourself into this relationship with soonyoung— he knew that too, so why was he so stuck on jihoon?

soonyoung effortlessly unzipped the back of your dress making your breasts spill out as he latched his mouth on one of your breasts, swirling his tongue, nipping on your skin, sucking your nipple slowly while he efficiently fucked you with his fingers as you whimpered. you were close, so very close.

"soonyoung— i— I am close."

"go on, get off on my fingers, remind yourself just who can get you off in a span of a few minutes, just on whose fingers you depend on."

your cheeks burned with slight shame at his honest words as you chased your high, rolling your hips as much as you can as you came, moaning out his name, chest rippling with regret— you knew you were falling for him more with each passing second.

and it wasn't just because he was hot.

you should address the matters of your heart now, you know you won't be able to speak up again.

"soonyoung stop," you whimpered as you leaned onto his shoulders, your legs giving out because of the sudden and rushed orgasm and because soonyoung wasn't stopping.

"please stop— red."

and that made soonyoung snap back into reality, you never said 'please stop', you never had ever used the word 'red' either.

his anger quickly faded down as he gently held you, concern evident in his eyes as he cursed at himself, his world came crashing down on him. how could he not understand that you didn't want him to do that? how could he even potentially hurt you?

"what happened y/n? shit— are you okay? I'm so sorry— did I go too far?"

you shivered as you hugged soonyoung closer, tears welling in your eyes, you wanted to comfort him— tell him that you didn't mind his actions at all but you couldn't speak, your heart felt heavy, it almost drowned you in your own wallows. hell, you were heartbroken even before confessing.

"y/n, speak up baby—" he whispered in your ears as he gently set you down on the bed, scrambling towards the water bottle which laid in the room, after a while you realised it was soonyoung's room.

plushies of tigers were scattered across the bed, creating an odd feeling of warmth amongst neutrally painted bedroom. his room was surprisingly clean and nice— probably coz he was looking forward to fuck some girl.

he rushed to get you water as you gulped it down, looking up at soonyoung and his concern lidded eyes, you made up your mind.

"soonyoung, we can't do this."

"can't do what? did i hurt you y/n? was i too rough in my approach? did i make you feel—"

"you made me feel good soonyoung," you stopped his rambling.

sighing you looked down at your feet and then at your discarded dress— you were sure you would have laughed at your situation if you weren't the one experiencing it.

"then why—"

"you make me feel too good," you cut him off, sucking a deep breath you continued, "so good that I can't even look at other guys, I don't want to date anyone anymore; hell, I don't find anyone attractive. i went on a few dates—"

"you went on dates?" soonyoung questioned as his brows quirked up, a slight frown visible on his face as he sat on the floor in front of you, his hand caressing your bare thigh as he tried to comfort you. "sorry— please go on."

"i- i went on dates and could never like anyone, i thought it was because you had suddenly become so much more attractive to me but it's not even—"

"you find me attractive?"

"duh. soonyoung, I don't just find you attractive, I find you to be endearing, funny, cute— every single positive adjective. my heart burns when I look at you having fun with other girls, being all giddy when they flirt with you I found you beautiful before you became a gym rat and i—" you halted, his words of no strings attached running in your mind, "I'm sorry, I wasn't able to keep up my side of bargain, it's not no strings attached anymore, I want this to stop before I like you more."

a silence, great, now you have messed up.

"why do you want us to stop?" soonyoung asked as you noticed a newfound glimmer in his eyes, he got up from the floor to sit next to you, snaking his hands around your waist he pulled you closer, his hot breath fanning your face as he said, "why do you want us to stop when I like you a lot too?"

"what do you mean?" you asked, unable to process his words.

"dummy, i had a crush on you for years— that day, shit... that day when I woke up next to you, I panicked, I wanted to experience that again, i was selfish, I wanted you in any way I can and shit that sounds toxic, i—"

"soonyo—"

"hell, I'm sorry, sorry for being a coward, sorry for not opening up sooner."

you kissed him, maybe it was the liquor speaking, or maybe it was because of the state soonyoung had left you in before he confessed, you kissed him. your hands buried in his hair as you pulled him closer.

you were grateful that your feelings were reciprocated.

soonyoung moaned in the kiss as you swivelled your hips up and straddled soonyoung, making him fall on the bed.

soonyoung was being mean by not discarding a single article of his clothing and leaving you naked.

your hands effortlessly unbuttoned the silk cloth as it fell around from his torso, still worn but unbuttoned.

your lips trailed down his sternum as he whimpered slightly at your touch while you left fleeting kisses all over his chest. your teeth grazed his abs as you sucked on his skin, leaving your marks along the trail as you smoothly unbuckled his belt while soonyoung's shivered, panting, yearning for more.

you unzipped his jeans and pulled down his underwear as his cock sprang out of his clothes, you lazily looked up at soonyoung who writhed under your gaze, a pink hue dusting his cheeks as he murmured, "please..."

"please what soonie?"

"please touch me," he whimpered, too hard because of your prior actions.

you grinned as you stroked his dick, peppering kisses as you licked him slightly, making him shiver underneath you. you took him in your mouth, bobbing you head as your tongue swirled around his shaft while he moaned, oh so pretty.

"y/n— ah, just like that. oh lord."

you took him out of your mouth, your lips ghosting his slit as you swirled your tongue against his angry tip, making him close his eyes under pleasure.

a smile stretched on your face as soonyoung whimpered numerous of his whines, you took him in as far as you could, enjoying the way his hair stuck on his face due to sweat, he was a whimpering mess all underneath you. your teeth grazed his dick slightly as he shot forward, holding your hair firm in his grasp as you caressed his hand which held you.

"gonna cum— y/n—"

you finished him with a lick at his head and he busted, all in your mouth and you made sure to take it all.

"shit y/n— why are you so hot?" ho groaned, his hips stuttering under you as you got up.

"slow down baby~" you whispered in his ears as you bit his earlobe making him groan as he pushed you down on the bed. slowly inching his face towards your pussy he kissed your inner thighs, peppering small licks and kissed on your lips before his tongue entered your slit, making you hiss as your back arched, an illicit moan escaping you as his tongue expertly swirled around you, him sucking your skin and his hand rubbing the bundle of your nerves. he was so drunk with your pussy, so buried in pleasuring you, his tongue lapping with your juices, scavaging your insides, he knew you so well in span of just a few months, he knew how your body will react to any lick of his.

"soonie~ ha— lord~"

you could feel his lips stretch into a grin around your lips but he didn't stop, you moaned under him, chanting a string of his name, oh how you needed him so much, was he a drug?

he slowly inserted a finger in you as you gasped, you could feel a tight knot in your stomach, you could feel soonyoung's tongue inside you, his fat finger pumping inside you, his plush lips grazing your sensitive mound and sucking you. you nearly screamed your head off pleasure.

"soonyoung— stop— gonna cum, ah~"

he momentarily removed his lips from your pussy, a small grin breaking out on his face as he chuckled dryly, "cum on my face princess, wanna taste you so bad."

no one knew you better than soonyoung and no one could make you feel this much ever.

you cried out as you came, all over him as he smiled at you fondly. you loved it when he was soft, you loved it when he looked at you with love lidden eyes and you certainly loved it when he was rough with you.

your eyes glimmered with mischief as you whispered, loud enough for soonyoung to hear.

"sorry for kissing jihoon, soonie."

you could see his demeanor shift, you could see the way his pupils dilated as his brown soft eyes glimmered with a new found lust.

before you knew it you were grabbed by your hip and pulled up, a gasp escaping your lips as soonyoung's lips attached with your now sensitive pussy again, he licked you again and again, smothering kisses on the bundle of your nerves as his fingers pumped into you, you were so sensitive, so tired, your voice broken with how much soonyoung was giving to you.

"soonie— ah... too much, oh god."

you had forgotten how to form basic sentences, only a prayer of his name and a whine of him being too much escaped your lips as your eyes rolled back while you chased your high again.

you came embarrassingly fast as soonyoung pushed you down on the bed, turning you over and propping your ass up.

"ha— trying to take hoon's name and making me jealous, slut?"

he coldly said as his hand came in contact with one of your butt cheek, the slap reverberating around the room as you moaned, his hand almost instantly coming to caress your ass, you knew how soft he was with you, he wouldn't want to even accidentally hurt you ever.

"you loved it when he called you doll, didn't you?"

he whispered as he lined his dick against your pussy, teasing your slit as his dick brushed your lips, you were too far gone into the pleasure, you were too sensitive, you were almost sure you couldn't take it.

but soonyoung didn't give you a warning, his cock slid inside you swiftly as your back arched with the feeling of fullness.

a moan escaping your lips as his fat cock brushed your insides.

"should I say it now, hmm? doll?"

your pussy clenched around him as soonyoung groaned, his hand grabbing your ass and his other hand situating on your hip as he emptied out only to ram into you with full force.

"liked it when I called you doll, didn't you baby?"

"ah yes— soonie~ oh god."

"my pretty slut loves it when her boyfriend is fucking some sense into her, doesn't she?"

tears welled up in your eyes as you could feel his cock into your abdomen, you mind going hazy with the amount of force soonyoung put in with every bit of his thrust.

"yes! oh god yes!"

"my little slut loves it when i empty out my thick fat cock inside her, doesn't she? or does she want someone else's cock?"

"no soonie~" you whimpered, your mouth agape as you tried your best to answer him, "uhm- ah- oh only you, it's only you!"

"only me?"

"your soonie- only yours, yours, yours, yours!" you whimpered, your body too weak because of consistent orgasms, you started faltering when soonyoung's hand came around your waist as he helped you prop up, you now laid against his chest as his dick hit you in all the spots you couldn't even have imagined.

"your soonie~ oh god~ yours."

"hmm? is my baby feeling hazy?"

"soonie—" even you could understand you were too gone out of your mind as your fourth orgasm of the day approach you, you were too fucked out, you could almost see stars.

soonyoung's hand circled around your abdomen while he felt his dick so deep inside you, he groaned with the image now fully plastered in his mind as he whispered, "fucked you dumb baby, you want me to fuck you like this everyday? show you who you belong to?"

his lips bit numerous hickeys on your neck and collarbone as you tried to speak but you couldn't, your words now a mess of different incoherent letters as soonyoung chuckled at your state.

"you're doing good baby," he whispered in your ears as you tried your best to match your hips with his rhythm, but you were so tired.

"good job, princess~ now, let go baby, cum with me," he whispered so sweetly in your ears as you let go of all the pent up stress in your body, you even squirted while, coming together with him as you shivered, your body limp as you laid down right on soonyoung's bed. your body twitching with overstimulation as you could feel soonyoung pull you closer as he swept your hairs behind your ears and lightly kissed the side of your forehead.

"be mine?" he asked, his fierce eyes now as soft as a hamster's, you gave into his touch as you whispered, "always yours."

#seventeen #nish recs #svt #svt imagines #nishloves #kwon soonyoung #svt fanfic #hoshi #kwon soonyoung smut #kwon soonyoung fluff #kwon soonyoung x reader #kwon hoshi #hoshi smut #hoshi x reader #hoshi fluff #seventeen hoshi #hoshi svt #svt hoshi #seventeen smut #seventeen oneshot #seventeen fluff #kpop smut #kpop #kpop fanfic #seventeen kpop #soonyoung fluff #soonyoung smut #soonyoung #soonyoung x reader #kflixnet

[evilminji]

Was Krypto Jor-El's dog? Or did their family have another pet?

Because think about it. Thanks to Cujo, we KNOW animals with unfinished business or strong attachments stay behind. We ALSO know from nigh COUNTLESS videos on the internet that pets get REALLY attached to pregnant moms and by extention, the new pack members.

Krpton was an Alien planet. Just because SOME of the animals there looked similar to earth animals, doesn't mean ALL of them do. Nor does it mean they ONLY domesticated dog like creatures or cat like creatures. They could have anything from vaguely bear-like to fox-ish to small moose but with more teeth.

It was a completely different ecology.

And Jor-El? Him and his wife had a CHOICE to make. They had A pod. Singular. Tiny. Not a ship, not an escape pod, not even a refurbished shipping container. Just a pod with life support and all the information about Krypton they could fit. A guidance system that, gods willing, would see their son to a safe and sympathetic planet to be raised by kind people.

THEY couldn't even fit.

How in the gods name would a large pet? Even a mid sized pet. Let us assume, for this prompt, that being scientists of high position? Pays or allocates pretty well. They have the room. The resources. When they got married, Jor-El's wife REALLY wanted a cub or pup or what have you, of some large-ish animal breed.

The equivalent of an earth mastiff dog. Just an Absolute UNIT. Used to be gaurds and working beasts, now more athletic pets then anything. Known to be great protecters of Their People.

And well... Jor-El WAS already starting to notice some things that were making him Less Than Popular... probably nothing (he had naively hoped, at the time.) But better to have a Just In Case. Sure, honey. Let's get one!

And they LOVED Snookums.

Snookums ADORED them AND the baby! Kal-El basically NEVER left Snookums sight. He slept beneath Kal's crib. Followed them everywhere they went, when they were holding Kal. Planted himself like Kal's Sworn Protector as the baby drooled all over his fur. It was the cutest thing EVER.

But then?

No. Dear Gods No. Please... Please let him be wrong!

He's not. He never is. He is too careful with his calculations. To the point of near paranoia. Maybe they can stop it. If they DO something. Act IMMEDIATELY...

But...

Well, we all now how that story ends. Two people, standing on a launch pad, tears streaming down their smiling faces, trying to memorize the last moment they'll ever see their son. Praying this will be ENOUGH.

That they aren't trading one terrible death for another.

Watching their son disappear into the sky. Flying home as the ground groan as shakes, trees toppling and people screaming. Panicking. Dying pointless deaths that could have been stopped.

Walking into the home that should have been where they spent their whole live. Where, in a way, they WILL.

Knowing they won't grow old.

Sitting on the floor with their confused, frantic, pet as fire starts to light up the horizon. As the ground shakes violently on last, terrible time. Knowing the lethal heat will hit them before their ears ever register the sound.

It's Over.

But! Where is Snookum's Baby Kal!?

They are scared, confused, and everything is LOUD AND RUMBLY. Very Bad. Don't like that. Their ADULTS come back home. BUT NOT THEIR BABY. Where is Baby Kal?! Snookums is a GOOD Boy and a GREAT Protector. It is in his blood.

Something BAD is happening.

Has? Happened?

Everything is GREEN.

But that does not MATTER. Snookums can not REST. Can not stay here! They must Sniff and search and hunt! Look for Kal! Who is SMALL and needs to be protected! What if he is HURT? How will he SLEEP!? With no Snookums to cuddle for nap time!?

But the universe is large. And there is no smell in space. (Well, there ARE. But they are Stinky Gasses and those do not help Snookums.) So it takes lots and lots of time. Until! He meets a glowing blue dog!

A hopeful corgi? What is a corgi? Irrelevant! The hopeful one knows of Snookums' Kal! Oh, thank you small friend! You indeed DO give hope! We shall go at once and Kal shall be safe and with family once more!

Meanwhile? Danny? Wakes up to a sticky note on his forehead from Clockwork. "Bring Cujo with you to meet the Justic League"? What? WHY? He loves the pup, but Cujo has never behaved himself in a formal setting ONCE in his doggy LIFE. Danny is trying to make a good first impression!

But... Clockwork doesn't Post-It lightly...

Guess he's breaking out the doggy bow ties. Great. Wonder what THIS is about...

Four and a half hours later? Watching Cujo playfully wrestle with the ghost of what HAS to be a Kryptonian... gonna saaaaay.... Bear-fox? Which nearly TACKLED Superman, freaked the ENTIRE Justice League out, and nearly got him STABBED by Etrigon. Yeah. That was a good call.

Congratulations on your new ghost pet, Superman. No, he's not leaving. It just kinda happens sometimes. It's how Danny got Cujo. Wanna do pet playdates?

@hdgnj @ailithnight @mutable-manifestation @dcxdpdabbles @nerdpoe

#dpxdc #dp x dc #dc x dp #dcxdp #dc x dp prompt #Kryptonian pets can be ghosts too #snookums is a LOYAL maybe bear ghost

[catwhispers0]

✧༝┉˚*❋ Silly Pickup Lines ❋*˚┉༝✧

Featuring - 

Cyno, Al Haitham, Tighnari, Kaveh, Zhongli, Xiao, Scaramouche, Neuvillette, Wriothesley

gn reader - pronouns: you/your

Tw and authors note - might be a lil suggestive for some lines, i dont play genshin 😭😭 so if any of the characters are kinda goofy its cause im too poor for that game, ooc, bad grammar 😬 VERY LIGHTLY EDITED, annoying reader lol

minors shoo shoo as always

✧༝┉˚*❋ Cyno ❋*˚┉༝✧

“do you believe in love at first sight, or should i walk by again?”

finally, its my time to shine

“do you have a bandaid? because i scraped my knee falling for you.”

“are you a time traveler? because i see you in my future.”

“if we were socks, we would make a great pair.”

if anyone were nearby, they would be gone now. you would surely attract a crowd of people who appreciated the little pickup line competition more, if you werent in the middle of a library. 

“are you a loan? because youve got my interest.”

“if you were a vegetable, youd be a cute-cumber.”

that was the breaking point of the poor librarian, who hoped you two would just stop on your own. but nothing could stop you before you could fluster cyno, and he could go all day and night before he would fluster you. 

so, yea, yall got kicked out of the library, but at what cost? honestly, yall never stopped throwing terrible pickups at each other, much to the pain and disappointment of anyone around you (cough tighnari cough).

but depending on your strength against cynos charms, you may last either forever, or give cyno a new hobby of flustering you whenever and wherever he could.

✧༝┉˚*❋ Al Haitham ❋*˚┉༝✧

“do you have a name, or can i just call you mine?”

Al haitham just looked up from his book, confused. 

“i have a name, did you really forget it?”

well this was odd, he thought you were smarter than this. forgetting his name, really?? of all the things you could forget, his name was one of the most, no, THE most offensive one. 

maybe you tripped and hit your head on the way in. he didnt think you were the smartest person in sumeru, but surely you werent stupid enough to forget the scribes name. 

“no, i know your name, but can i call you mine?”

he somehow found a way to look even more confused. ‘can i call you mine’ who is ‘mine’?? oh. wait. mine!! 

by the time he finally realized, you walked away with a cheeky grin. he was left in the dust, flustered. and to think he thought you were dumb. 

now, how was he going to work for the rest of the day?

✧༝┉˚*❋ Tighnari ❋*˚┉༝✧

“arent you tired of running through my mind all day?”

he put his head in his hands in defeat, dropping the papers he was working on. with his ears flat against his head, he groaned. 

“...are you ok nari?” 

“no.”

“...”

after a moment, he looked up at you. he had a disappointed, dead-panned expression. his ears were still flat and he just stared at you, ridiculing you in awkward silence. 

he thought he would only have to deal with one idiot in a life time. why were you so..? annoying? no, thats not it. alluring? maybe… he didnt understand how through all of the shenanigans you pull him through, all the terrible jokes and one liners, youve sill managed to capture his heart and let him keep you around. so yea, alluring.

“... do you wanna hear another one?”

*sigh* “sure, but only if its good.”

his reluctance was apparent in his voice, but the agreement was a good sign. 

you gave it a beat of time to dig through your head for a clever one that would sweep tighnari off his feet. 

“i think i need to see an optometrist, because i cant keep my eyes off of you~.”

“...”

“...” “get out.”

“...ok”

✧༝┉˚*❋ Kaveh ❋*˚┉༝✧

“i must be in a museum, because youre a work of art.”

The architect nearly chokes on his drink and spits it out. you scramble to help him out of concern though there was little you could do in the first place. 

so pat him on the back awkwardly as he endeavors his coughing fit. sometime through the hacking, you notice it has shifted to laughter. 

“what are you laughing about?? are you ok??”

“-yea, im fine, you are just too cute! you caught me off guard.” 

with this, he picked you cheek adoringly. you gave him an incredulous look, this man really choked on his drink and now he demeans you? absolutely not. 

you turn on your heel and walk away after giving him a look of a mix of disappointment and exasperation. 

he follows quickly after to try and pester you for the rest of the day on ‘how adorable you are’.

✧༝┉˚*❋ Zhongli ❋*˚┉༝✧

“are you a geo user, because you rock my world! *wink*”

a small smile and a giggle does little to hide his growing flush. he looks away for a moment, letting your words settle in the air. 

why did you have to be so cute? and you look at him expectantly - waiting for a reaction. you didnt think he would fall that easily, hm?

-though, he does appreciate a challenge. 

sure, hes heard plenty of one-liners in his time, most when and about his dragon or archon forms. but he didnt expect you to exchange one with him, he doesnt know what to do or how to feel. 

“you are something, my dear. are you hungry? its about time for my lunch break, i thought you wouldnt mind the offer, seeing as you seem to want to sweep me away so badly.”

“something?” 

what was that supposed to mean? a good something or a bad something? his reaction did little to answer, but you took him up on his offer. maybe tomorrow you would get him. 

gotta keep that old man on his toes afterall. 

✧༝┉˚*❋ Xiao ❋*˚┉༝✧

“are you an adeptus, because youve reached a depth of my heart.”

at first, Xiao thought it was some adepti pun, but as the day went on, he wasnt so sure. 

it had become such an issue, the yaksha had began pacing around with his finger to his chin and a furrowed brow. 

he was overthinking it, he knew that, but he needed to know what it meant to be in a “depth of your heart”. did you mean it as friendly dialogue? or was there something more…? 

was this a sign? a hint? a clue? a puzzle? he didnt know. how could you do this to him, what is he supposed to make of this?

could you have put him in a depth of your heart that noone else was? Perhaps it was wishful thinking. archons, why were mortals so complicated?! 

by the time he had worked himself up to confront you about the issue that plagued his heart, the sun set and the stars had risen. 

‘maybe tomorrow then, ill let you rest for now.’ he thought as he watched you sleep peacefully, protected. 

✧༝┉˚*❋ Scaramouche ❋*˚┉༝✧

“im not a photographer, but i can picture us together.”

*silence*

“scara?”

“no.”

“what?”

“no, you are not doing this.”

aaaand he walks away…

as much as you try to talk to him after that, he avoids you. it doesnt last long though, maybe 2-3 days. 

still, not very nice. you knew he wasnt the best person in the communication department, but wow.

anytime you tried to bring it up, he would shoot it down or avoid confrontation. 

how nice would it be if he would just tell you if he was uncomfortable with teasing like that? 

with all the teasing he makes you go through, you would think he could endure some himself. maybe he wasnt used to it though, or maybe you connection with him didnt abide by the rules of hypocracy. 

maybe you should shun him back? a taste of his own medicine. 

so thats how you ended up with indigo eyes piercing into you soul. as soon as you gave him any hint of a cold shoulder, his disappeared. 

hes a stubborn man, he wont just go talk to you like a normal person. and all this over a cheesy pickup line. 

its more than that though, the way he treats you is much more that what he can handle himself. be gentle on him, he doesnt know these things. 

he doesnt know this feeling that arises every time he looks at you, when you say his name in that pretty voice of yours, the faces and reactions you make that are too precious for anyone else to see. 

so when you hit him with a one-liner, maybe the feeling is too unbearable for the guy. 

go reassure him, he needs it. 

✧༝┉˚*❋ Neuvillette ❋*˚┉༝✧

“your lips look lonely, can mine keep them company?”

Neuvillette nearly dies on the spot. this is the most romantic gesture hes ever heard of - he loves poetry, you know.

“why of course, my love.”

okay

okay, you just kissed the chief justice of fontaine. wow wow wow cool cool okay dont freak out. 

his face is still so close to yours - hairs away. his eyes meet yours, full of love and adoration. 

his lips are still parted, you can feel his breath against your lips. 

they were soft and gentle. would he mind if you went in for another? surely not..?

and just amd you closed your eyes, they were startled open. a melusine opened the door and interrupted your moment. 

oh well, how could you be mad when the look neuvillette snuck you screamed 'meet me again and we can pick up where we left off'.

✧༝┉˚*❋ Wriothesley ❋*˚┉༝✧

“you should lock yourself up, ya know, stealing is prohibited. “

he plays along immediately, smiling, but doesnt lift his eyes from his paperwork. 

“and i am so very sorry for your lunch, perhaps you could let me go with a fine, my generous love?”

your lunch? oh, hes gonna pay for this! you didnt even know about it until now, too! 

“my lunch?! what did you do to it?!” 

he looks up finally. 

“you dont know? oh well never mind dont think about it, love. its for… the better…”

how mysterious. if you could deadpan him harder, you would. 

“...so, what else did i steal?”

the audacity.

“well if you have to know, it was going to be cute and romantic, i was going to say you stole my heart but you can just give it right back, along with your lunch.”

and you walk away, off to check where you put your food. 

some wishful thinking said that he was just joking for a bit, but knowing him, you cant always be sure…

---------

if u want any other characters, drop a request in my mail/ask box ❤️❤️

#whisperwrites #whisperseries #genshin impact #genshin #genshin x reader #genshin imagines #genshin x you #cyno #cyno x reader #al haitham #al haitam x reader #tighnari #tighnari x reader #kaveh #kaveh x reader #zhongli #zhongli x reader #xiao #xiao x reader #scaramouche #scara x reader #scaramouche x reader #neuvillette #neuvillete x reader #wriothesley #wriothesely x reader #x reader #genshin x gn reader #gender neutral reader

[luminnara]

Feyd Rautha headcanons plsss

Like what was his upbringing and training like? How did he become what he is?

Okay I think about this A LOT and I just wanna say that I know people argue a ton about the original Dune book(s) vs the older adaptations vs the new DV movies, and these are just my thoughts! Frank Herbert was a great writer and he gave us complex characters with tons of subtext, but the original Dune was also published in the 60s and the other best known older adaptation is from the 80s, and both have some definitely outdated and not great stuff was used to show how bad a character was (like the Baron having an affinity for uh young boys who look like Paul 😬). I think that DV made some really smart changes to these characters that are more in line with contemporary thinking, while also remaining true to what Frank Herbert was trying to tell us about them—like the Baron is a Bad Man and Feyd is angry and impatient and definitely wants to kill him. ANYWAYS leggo, this is long and my thoughts jump around a lot but I hope you enjoy!

WARNING for some talk of SA! Also mentions of violence and murder and cannibalism, the usual stuff

The more serious ideas that are backed up by text and movie evidence:

Feyd-Rautha was taken from Lankiveil, a Harkonnen planet ruled by his birth father Abulurd (Vladimir’s younger half brother) by his uncle, Baron Vladimir. Feyd definitely knows this, and knows that Glossu Rabban is his older brother…so imagine all of the conflicting thoughts he must have surrounding his own position and future. On the one hand, he was taken and raised by his uncle so that he could inherit the title of Baron. On the other hand, he was taken as a punishment to his father. There must be resentment there, towards both his father and his uncle, and even his older brother. Even though Feyd was essentially chosen to become something more than Rabban, he grew up away from most of his immediate family. Even though he was raised to become Harkonnen royalty, imagine how he might have turned out if he had remained with his father, who had renounced the Harkonnen name.

He was brought up in a cruel and harsh environment. He was made into a killing machine, partly because of Harkonnen customs, partly because Vladimir enjoyed the carnage, and partly because it was the only thing a young Feyd ever knew. As a young man, he loves killing and shredding because it feels natural and is second nature to him, but does he ever wish he had known what it was like growing up in a softer environment? Food for thought.

He hates his uncle. In the book, he attempts an assassination. In DV’s part two, he mentions to the Baron that he should kill him, and the Baron laughs. Vladimir finds it amusing that Feyd would say something like that, because he knows he’s got Feyd under his thumb. Perhaps Feyd is even scared of him.

The Baron is, and was, cruel to him. In the book, after the failed assassination attempt, Vladimir tells his nephew that if he agrees to stop trying to kill him (lol), he’ll step down and let Feyd have his position. BUT he kills his darlings as a punishment (who in the book are female slaves, who act as his lovers)

I already have a ton of headcanons about his darlings in the DV movies, and I really think that Feyd cared for them. So imagine that your own uncle WHO YOU WANT TO KILL takes away the only things you care about?? That’s fucked up man

The Baron abused Feyd to some degree, very possibly sexually—I’ve seen a lot of people pointing out how heavily this is implied by the subtext in both the book and part two. Feyd is actually a complex character, but neither Frank Herbert nor DV really spelled that out, and you have to dig a little and think about it. While I obviously don’t want ANYBODY, even fictional characters, to experience something like SA, I think it does add to the depth of his character and gives more fuel to his rage. It also shows us just how terrible Vladimir really is. I’ve seen it suggested that this is part of what Margot Fenring means when she says that Feyd is sexually vulnerable, but I take that comment to more mean that he opens himself up to the possibility of harm a LOT in bed and that’s when he’s most emotionally vulnerable. BUT I don’t think those things are mutually exclusive

NOW THE MORE FUN IDEAS THAT I ENJOY (fun is a subjective term here lol)

Feyd-Rautha has a vulnerable side, and it’s very, very guarded. It’s buried so deep he may not even be aware of it.

He really does care for his darlings, and that’s the closest thing he feels to love. It’s a possessive, ownership kind of love that we would consider toxic irl, but they’re the only things besides his weapons and power that he cares about.

He doesn’t revere his weapons, but he respects them. They’re not personified, but he appreciates a good killing tool, and likes to take care of his knives.

He views lives as very black and white. There are people who can be killed (slaves, servants, rivals, his uncle), and people who ABSOLUTELY cannot be (his darlings, an SO, his hypothetical children)

He views everyone else as weaker than him, and it’s partially because his uncle would never LET someone as important to his plans as Feyd be harmed, so Feyd rarely feels that his life is actually in danger. Almost everyone he fights in the arena is drugged, and it isn’t like his trainer would fight without shields. He’d be confused and intrigued by someone who could actually defeat him, and he’s so into the art of war and battle that he would respect it (but also be upsetti)

He spends a lot of time watching and calculating in silence. While he’s impatient and has a short temper, he likes to learn about things that interest him.

He’s up to date on Giedi Prime beauty trends and sets a lot of the standards himself. He gets massages and spa treatments regularly and has been known to undergo more serious procedures.

While he doesn’t partake as regularly as his darlings, he occasionally consumes human flesh and blood and doesn’t think it’s weird, because he views almost everyone as lesser than him, so eating them is akin to eating livestock. Alternatively, I could see him going down the “I feel so overwhelmingly deeply about you that I must consume you body and soul” road about someone special but I really don’t think he’s got that brand of romance in him lol

Like lady fenring said, he is, in fact, sexually vulnerable. In the bedroom, he can let out his emotions, and sometimes they’re ugly and sometimes he needs to not be in charge for the night. He leaves himself open to manipulation and harm. Man just really needs a good hug tbh

Canonically hypersexual as a result of trauma

Is harsh as a result of a harsh upbringing, one that looked comfortable from the outside but was anything BUT for him. Beneath the surface, he’s messy.

Aggressive because he’s always had to be to survive. His uncle probably wouldn’t have killed him because he was always integral to Vladimir’s plans, but did a young Feyd know that?? NO

is NOT well traveled. He’s lived on Giedi Prime his whole life, has probably seen Lankiveil, which is cold and watery, and has been on Arrakis, but I think he would NOT know what to do if he was on a lush green planet. All he knows is harsh, extreme environments. If you plop him down in a meadow, he will have NO clue what to do

As a child, he watched his uncle kill anyone who inconvenienced him. This definitely warped Feyd’s concepts of kindness and the value of life.

His childhood was just unbelievably strict and harsh and at the same time he was spoiled in certain ways, and that has led to him growing into a pampered yet still caged man

He would LOVE to slaughter his uncle and feed him to his darlings

In an arranged marriage, something about his spouse would have to suddenly intrigue him, and then he would be HOOKED. He would sink his teeth in and refuse to let go. Opening up to someone who isn’t one of his darlings would be strange and difficult for him

Remember how I said he isn’t used to fighting sober opponents? I think that once he gets a taste for fair fights, he becomes a little addicted to the thrill of it and the power that those victories bring him, and he loses interested in drugged fights. After a lifetime of living under this uncle’s thumb, the control he has over someone’s life and PROVING that he’s better and stronger and meaner than them is the most validating feeling he knows.

He never shows mercy, because no one has ever showed it to him.

#Feyd rautha #Feyd rautha headcanons #dune #Feyd rautha x reader

[shanastoryteller]

Happy pride! Can I request god!percy or dealers choice

Aziraphale is a hostage and he doesn't even know it.

There must always be a Supreme Archangel in Heaven.

The Ineffable Plan is shit and it was shit from the start and Crowley doesn't feel a lick of guilt in the part he played in destroying it. Humanity deserved a fighting chance, after all, and they'd made good on it - Adam, a boy after his own heart, had made the choice to save them all.

Crowley had not created the universe only to watch Her destroy it. That was always Her problem, really. Great big ideas and piss poor execution. Which is why She'd give him a long list of impossible ridiculous things and he would work out how to make that make sense in a world where sense is a thing that had to be made.

Eden was a trial run, one of many. Making people in Her own image was proving difficult, because She didn't know what She looked like and had always been resistant to hearing Herself described.

She'd made Adam in the angel's image, and Eve, and it looked like She'd finally made a successful prototype.

Then they'd fought over what was to be made of Earth, of the people, of all the things he'd made in the vastness of space. If there's no people to tilt their heads back and look at it, what's the point of making it? If galaxies exist, but they evoke no wonder, are they even there?

He had decided to make things difficult. He had decided that if humanity was going to go toe to well, metaphorical toe with Her, then they needed an edge.

They needed Knowledge.

His sentencing had been swift and unanimous and he wasn't going to be a 38th level recording angel scrivener, thank you very much. They'd talked and talked about how terrible the PR would be, over another prince of Heaven falling to Hell, and how difficult he was making everything and how extremely bitter they were that he, as a writer in the Book of Life, could not be erased from it without also erasing everything he'd done, which was rather a lot. Pages eleven to three million six hundred and two, to be exact.

So he had not fallen, precisely, so much as sauntered vaguely downwards.

Which he felt was rather obvious, and yet no one seemed to notice, the same way he was able to march back into Heaven with a clothing change. He was impossible, and so he could not exist, and so he did not.

He had wings and he could perform miracles indistinguishable from an angel's and yet no one ever suspected a thing.

He'd though that maybe he would be made when he walked onto holy ground to bail out Aziraphale, but luckily angels don't often seen demons walking into churches. Usually because that's about when they catch fire.

Which suited him just fine, actually. It had all worked out, more or less, until now.

Saraqael had not forgotten him and didn't even try and tell him off for walking right into Heaven. Michael and Uriel's silence had been odder, but he'd had more important things to focus on at the time.

Now he understands why.

They want a new Plan and She isn't giving them one.

The Metatron knows there is one angel who worked alongside Her in the universe's creation. One angel who successfully interfered in Her plans and knocked things astray. One angel who's hands rested besides Hers on the Book of Life.

They don't want Aziraphale to lead.

They want the Archangel Raphael back in his rightful place, the Supreme Archangel, and they want him to once more muck about in Her plans and give them the war they're craving.

And they know going through Aziraphale is their only chance, the one person that could tempt Crowley into taking up his old name and his old mantel and stepping foot once more in blasted Heaven with his halo around his head rather than tattooed along his face.

They have Aziraphale.

Now Crowley can only wait and hope that he figures out the truth in time, before he's forced to defy Aziraphale like he once defied Her.

#finally got around to watching good omens season 2 and i have big feelings #prompt answers #prompts are closed #asks #drwho-ess #good omens

[idcbabyialreadylostmymind]

Unwanted

Pairing- Tsu'tey x dreamwalker!reader

Summary- Tsu'tey has fallen in love with someone the one species he hates with all his heart.

A/N- also thank you @eywas-heir for helping me come up with who to write this for 🤭

After you and your colleague Jake Sully had to run from a thantor and survive through the night in Pandora, you were saved by a woman and a man. The woman was a beauty, blue skin illuminating in the moonlight, braids. And the man was just as gorgeous, little white freckles on his face and body, even with the deep scowl on his face you cheeks lit up a little when his eyes turned to yours.

"You two are like babys, always stepping on things don't know what to do." The woman hissed, "Come on we have to take them to Mo'at see what we must do, if the great mother has mercy she may kill them." The man said and your ears perked, killed. "Eywa has chosen them we can't kill them." She said. "Yeah I'll just wait for Grace and the tea-" You say walking backwards from the other three. "No sky-demon you will come." The man hisses at you gripping your arm.

And with that Mo'at, the Tsahik inspected you and said that you will learn the ways of Omaticaya. "You Neytiri will teach this JakeSully." She says hushing her daughter up before she could complain. "And you," she pointed at the man who brought you here "will teach this Y/NL/N." The older woman said and Tsu'tey only scoffed.

Then they made you put the traditional clothes on, both you and Jake pulled in the clothing getting popped by Tsu'tey and Neytiri. You ate with the two and you saw Jake trying to spark conversation with his teacher you thought you should do the same.

"So what your name." You say picking at the fruit peel you had in your hand. He stuck a little bit of food in his mouth, "Tsu'tey." He said. "Tsu'tey." You mummer memorizing it, "Cool." You say picking up fruit. "Whatever demon." He said making you furrow your brows, "Asshole." You think.

It was a few weeks, when you weren't in your avatar you were with Jake and Norm learning the Na'vi language and traditions barely having time to sleep. And when you were in your avatar it wasn't easy, Tsu'tey made sure of it. Anytime you messed up a menacing chuckle would erupt from him, or he would say "You should leave." "You'll never be one of us demon." And honestly you tried to ignore it, you really did. But you got tired of it.

You picked up a arrow putting it on the bow and try to hit the target missing it by millimeters. "You are terrible just give it up." He laughs and you grunt at his words picking another one up. "Yeah I'm sure you weren't Robin Hood when you started." You scoff focusing on the target again. "I do not know what this stupid sky demon you talk off." He says before walking off.

You didn't know it but Tsu'tey was going insane. Everytime he looked at you his heart felt like it was going to explode of his chest. When you smiled at someone or when a male Na'vi would flirt with you he got this unsettling feeling his his stomach. He didn't get it, he hated you he thought but your dazzling eyes, soft body, caring words he couldn't help it but love you, and he hated himself and you for it.

He only had one idea and that was to go to the Tree of Souls and may Eywa have mercy on him.

He says down in front of the tree connecting his queue to the tree, smiling as he hears the voices of his ancestors. He took a deep breath, "Great mother why do I feel these things for this sky woman." He says quietly. "Have I done something to upset you." He says, he took one last breath before disconnecting from the tree and begins walking back to Hometree.

And then he saw you with another male, he felt that unsettling feeling again. Then he saw he was giving you a flower, what! He stomped over, his nose was moving at the overflowing emotions in him. "Go." He said to the male.

Tsu'tey was an intimidating man you can give him that, so the male quickly gave you the flower and ran off. "Thank you." You yell to the running male. Tsu'tey turned to you, Eywa you were gorgeous why did you have to be so beautiful. He grips your arm and drags you somewhere secluded despite your protest.

"What the hell was that!" You say when you finally stopped in the middle of the forest. "Why were you talking to him?" He asked making you confused. "He was asking me about going to the tree of souls tonight I do not know wh-" getting cut off before you could finish your sentence. "The Tree of Souls oh that skwang, he was trying to mate with you." Tsu'tey said jaw clenching at the thought.

"Why do you care?" You say getting angry at his angered state that he has no right to. "Because-" he began to speak but he was going to slow for your patience. "You have no right to be angry first I try to be nice and you are mean for no reason and now you are getting mad because a man asked me to go somewhere." You say face flushed in anger. "So why do you care?" You ask once again this time letting him speak. His hand ran over his face and he scrunched his face in anger.

"Because!" He yelled making you jump.

"Because, you are the bane of my existence," he said. "And the objects of all my desires." He said in a low voice eyes never leaving yours. You looked at him and stepped closer and then he stepped closer, your hands and body's inches apart. Lips closer and closer.

"We should not do this." He whispered breath hitting your lips. "No we shouldn't." You say eyes hypnotized by his lips. "I am to be the next Olo'eyktan and you are of the sky it is wrong." He said body begging to be on yours. "It is wrong." You say. "I don't care." He said hands wrapping around your face and captured your lips with his.

A firework lit inside of you holding onto his muscular arms as your head and lips moved along with him. It was a prolonged kiss neither of you wanting to pull away but needing to.

Finally both of you pulled from the kiss still holding each other and you smiled at him. "You are a very stupid man Tsu'tey." You laugh patting his chest and he smiles and tilts his head up, "Is that so?" He laughs and grabs your chin in between his fingers you shake your head, "Yes." You whisper. His smile grows as his lips connect once more with yours.

#avatar 2022 #avatar 2 #avatar 2009 #avatar #avatar way of water #awotw x reader #awotw #tsu'tey x reader #tsu'tey #tsu'tey x y/n #tsu'tey x you #avatar x reader fluff #avatar x y/n #avatar x you #avatar x reader

[alicerosejensen]

I did it!

Papa!Leon and his sweet pumpkin daughter!

I died of cuteness while writing this. I think Leon would be a great father, but being a government agent means he's often away from home. Because of this, he feels wild guilt towards his wife and baby.

I hope you enjoy it too.

Warning: Papa Leon, his child is a girl.

I still stealing gifs and pinterest pictures.

- Leon will definitely do everything to protect his family even from a potential threat. Your house with him is a small island of boundless peace and security. It has no place for bioweapons.

- And the first thing you need to know is that when leon finds out that his S/O is pregnant by him (even if they planned it for a child), he will be a little confused and scared. But only because he understands what a big responsibility falls on his shoulders: Leon wants to protect baby from any troubles.

- Of course, he already loves your child with him. He already has a couple of names in mind, if you don't mind.

- Leon will talk to his baby a lot, constantly stroking and kissing your belly. You will tell him that it is useless and the term is still too short, but he does not care. He will also insist that you get plenty of rest and not take on too much work.

- He likes to equip the children's room.

- His wife (and I'm sure that he will settle down, read the post about the college girl) is always under vigilant supervision. Family is what Leon puts in the first place. You and the baby must be absolutely healthy, so visiting a doctor, taking vitamins for pregnant women, special gymnastics - this is what Leon will not disregard. If you forget something, he will immediately remind you of it.

- Leon has absolutely no revulsion. He is not one of those men who are afraid of pregnant wives. Sure, he can get tired of some of the pregnancy quirks like eating habits or frequent mood swings, but he understands how difficult it is for you in the first place! No matter how desirable a child is, pregnancy is not always wonderful, and often terrible. Leon loves you and will happily massage your feet, bring you whatever you ask for (even if he has to run back and forth a few times) and comfort you if you suddenly feel overwhelmed again.

- His biggest hate is when he gets called to work. This usually goes on for several weeks or even a whole month, and Leon does not want to leave you unattended, so he will most likely ask someone close to visit you (this could be Claire or your parents)

- Leon keeps an ultrasound photo of the baby. He doesn't know a damn thing where everything is, but the very idea that it's HIS baby makes him a little sentimental. No, he will never throw it away.

- He doesn't care about the gender of the baby.

- However, when he takes the babygirl in his arms, Leon decides that she will always need additional protection.

- He will tremble with excitement when he realizes that this rosy-cheeked, chubby baby is his tiny daughter. Leon's tears will flow looking at her.

- He literally has a real diamond at home that sleeps in a crib and let at least one bastard try to harm her!

- If Leon is at home, then taking care of his daughter also lies with him. He really does not understand how can ignore or leave your child! Bathe? Change diaper? Change clothes or put to bed if her wake up at night? Leon will be the one to sing the baby a lullaby.

- I'm sure he has terrible sleep problems. But you can wake up and see that the bed is empty and Leon has gone somewhere, but there is no light in the kitchen. You will find him in the nursery where he will sit silently over the crib and just look at his daughter.

- "I just can't bear it if anything happens to her" - that's what he said when he felt your presence. - "My pumpkin...so small. I would give her the whole world."

- This is another of his giant fears - the loss of his daughter.

- Leon will call the girl pumpkin. Constantly. Or "my sweet pumpkin"

- He will always bring her new toys.

- He likes to spoon feed her when she a little older . Definitely, Leon will rejoice at the first successes and will support the idea of ​​creating a children's album, where the important moments of childhood will be preserved: the first steps, the first word, how many milk teeth, etc...

- Whether he is tired or not, Leon will play with his daughter if she brings him her toys.

- In the future, Leon will most likely learn to braid pigtails. He also knows the plots of many children's cartoons and all these songs.

- Would not mind if the baby fell asleep on his chest. Leon will either fall asleep with her or gently carry her to bed.

- He won't have a single photo or any mention of you or your child on his phone, but that's only because he's protecting you.

- He keeps all the cute pictures at home in his desk drawer.

- Leon will definitely spoil the baby a little.

- However, he can also be a strict father.

- He will not allow more than what is required. Sweets? of course, but only within reasonable limits. This also applies to behavior. Leon will not encourage whims.

- When Leon is away from home, he feels like his heart is breaking because of guilt. Especially if he looks at those puppy dog eyes of his daughter. He would give up everything in the world to stay with his family.

- He always hugs and kisses you and your child before leaving.

- If some son of a bitch from Umbrella or someone like Simmons decides to kidnap his daughter for blackmail or revenge, Leon will turn into a real monster who will do everything to get her back. He might have to ask for help, but once Leon gets to that bastard, no one will save him. However, the baby will be able to calm her father's dead nerves a little.

- His child is literally the meaning of his life. Having lost her, he will lose himself forever. Most likely Leon will want to put a bullet in his forehead.

- However, in a good scenario, Leon always returns home to his cheerful little girl. When they meet, he always picks her up in his arms and kisses her on the cheek. He just adores her! If Leon comes home at night when she is sleeping, he will quietly come into the room to straighten her blanket and just look at her for a couple of minutes.

- Family is what keeps Leon from plunging completely into despair. He can still drink sometimes, especially if he lost someone on a mission, but he believes that he has no right to feel sorry for himself. He is a husband and father. Because of this, it can be emotionally difficult for him, but the embrace of a loved one is what gives him peace and tranquility. If his daughter decides to hug him just like that or saw that Dad was sitting sad, then Leon will not let her out of his arms for a long time. She is his anesthetic for all wounds.

- Leon would not want his daughter to follow in his footsteps. If she tells him one day that she wants to be an agent like him, Leon will be very scared and will most likely try to scare her to dissuade her forever. Quarrels between them regarding this topic are possible in the future.

- Leon is unlikely to have any more children. He will be very careful that you do not get pregnant again. Maybe he'll think about a vasectomy. He is sure that he can protect one child, but two is already problematic. Moreover, he is often not at home and his wife will find it quite difficult to cope with two children.

- Adolescence is a difficult thing. This is the period of growing up of a daughter that Leon would find difficult to survive. Loud music? Conflict-provoking behavior? friendship with dubious guys? Leon's daughter could accuse him of constant absence, so he has no right to scold her for coming home late.

- This is what Leon will always lose all words for.

- You could comfort him by saying that your child is just having such a period and they just need to talk to each other when everything cools down.

- Leon does not encourage night walks, tattoos, etc. If one day he smells alcohol or cigarettes from his daughter (or, God forbid, she came home a little drunk after a party), a scandal will break out.

- It would be like Moira and Barry's relationship.

- The only difference is that a difficult relationship arose against the background of the constant absence of his father. By her behavior, the girl only wants to attract his attention.

- Leon is still ready to go down to hell for his family.

#leon kennedy #leon scott kennedy #leon s kennedy #leon x reader #leon kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy x reader #resident evil #resident evil x reader #reader #papa leon #dad leon s Kennedy

[kaonarvna]

Every now and again, I remember that my disability (EDS) isn't invisible, actually. People are just uncomfortable when they can see it. People don't want to see it. People like to ignore it. Other people just stare at it, and don't even look at me. All they see is a pile of bones and fascia and something to pity.

I've worn a shoulder brace the past week, because it subluxed horribly a week or so ago. Still healing. Visible.

I always have compression sleeves on my arms, full coverage. Bicep to wrist. Visible.

I have soft braces and compression kit for every joint imaginable. Visible.

I'm covered in KT tape. I've worn it on my goddamn face after a jaw sublux, for that little extra support and proprioception help. Tape. On the face. Very visible.

The people I've worked with for years are used to it by now, the good ones, at least. They don't remark when I take a minute to stretch. They know I'll say something if I'm not okay. They know I'm in a constant state of variable dysfunction. They've seen enough, they're used to it.

But then there's people who aren't used to it. People who see me stretch on the ground, watch in discomfort, then they ask someone else if I'm okay. I can hear them quietly mutter it to other staff. I hear them go, "oh, he does that". I can see their discomfort with me (just existing as I need to exist). I can see the discomfort in these new people who aren't accustomed to bodies with slightly different needs, and it's a visceral reminder of being "other". I wonder, how terrible and scary and different I must be, for them to not even have the fortitude to ask me themselves.

And then there are the new people who see it and ask too many questions. The ones who go "but you're so young!" as though my connective tissue has a concept of social expectations for people under (arbitrary age). They go "but you look great!" as though I'm not covered in bruises and held together by tape (nevermind the implication that the disabled must look "bad"). They go "but you never call in!" as though I'm not often two seconds away from doing so, before the fear of losing my job sets in.

...and these are the ones who seem to wish not to see it the most. The ones who ask questions like I should be on display, and as soon as the conversation ends, so does my disability. They'll ask the same questions the next time, and the next time, and the next. It always ends with statements of pity, or something pity-adjacent. If I'm "lucky", they might even make an inappropriate comment about how I shouldn't be working, or sex must be "interesting", or act like I'm some eldritch horror that shouldn't exist.

And I'm reminded of the training I was once made to sit though. A ninety minute training, where you sit and watch the PowerPoint for ninety minutes in a too-small plastic chair, while someone reads the PowerPoint. The presenter started with a cute little "haha I know it's long, feel free to get up and walk around, or stretch".

I did.

I got up, walked myself to the side well out of the way of the tight chair lines, and laid down to stretch (a good spinal twist, loosen things up).

And she stopped the presentation.

She asked if there were any first-aiders present.

She was going to keep going on and on, until I heard someone say, "oh, he's fine, he does that." and a few "that's just (name), he does that". She started apologising profusely, waffling about how she thought there must have been a medical emergency, how people don't usually get up. She seemed baffled by the mere concept that someone would actually need to get up, and couldn't sit for ages. Her statement was entirely performative and insincere.

Today, after the day was effectively done, I laid down on the clean, carpeted floor in my classroom to just...be horizontal for a moment. Find some way, any way, to get my lower back to move and function and not feel like it was being clawed apart from the inside. Relieve myself a little, so I could finish the day without abject misery. And this very-new member of staff sat on the other side of the room, presumably watching me. When I got up, she asked very quietly, "Is something wrong with you?" and all I had the energy to say was "I'm fine". I'm tired of explaining my body. I'm tired of explaining my needs. I'm tired of justifying taking care of myself.

Someone recently told me "You're very brave. I think I'd rather die than live like you."

I didn't respond. I didn't have the energy to break down that she'd effectively told me I should die. I didn't have the energy to tell her that it's not bravery to live "like this".

It's my only option.

I know nothing else.

And I'm just tired. And hurting.

I'm grateful for the few good ones, the ones that are used to it. The people who have stopped asking me if I'm okay when I stretch, or need a little break, or get out the tape and scissors.

They know I'm not okay. That's why I'm on the ground. That's why I'm checking my range of motion, or feeling a joint, or holding pressure on a digit that's come undone. I'm not okay, and I'm trying not to get even worse.

I'm not okay, actually. I'm never okay, and that's fine. I'll never be your version of "okay", and that's fine. I've no choice. Thank you for knowing that I'm not okay, but that that's normal, and that if something was seriously, horribly wrong, I'd do something. Thank you, for just going about your business and talking to me as normal when I'm taking care of myself, instead of sprinkling eggshells on the ground for your own personal crunching.

I'm just tired. I'm visibly disabled if you look for ten goddamn seconds. I'm a person if you look for twenty. I'm a fetish if you just keep staring and staring and asking about my body like you're entitled to my flesh. I just want to sleep for more than two hours without my body waking itself up to remind me it hurts. I'm so tired.

#hypermobile ehlers danlos #ehlers danlos syndrome #ehlers danlos zebra #chronic pain #chronic illness #chronically ill #chronic fatigue #spoon theory #spoonie #vent post #vent #invisible disability #Heds #Eds #knv writing

[natewriteslol]

Scarabia getting Jealous

Warnings: gender neutral reader

Kalim:

-It’s incredibly difficult to get Kalim jealous, I mean he’s not stupid but he is quite oblivious to a majority of things.

-So when you’re partying in Scarabia, seperating to get a drink whilst everyone is dancing something caught his ruby eyes. A man had come and caressed your shoulder, his posture and face looking sleezy.

-Maybe it was just a friend! But you didn’t look like you knew him...

-So that caused him to just go up and take you away from the entire situation since you looked uncomfortable. But the man did not want to leave you alone and was persistent

- “What do you think we’re doing we were having a conversation, you brat?”

- “Do you, know who I am? You must be confused but I am dorm leader, Kalim Al-Asim, apart of the Al-Asim family and host of this party. If you could just please step back from my wonderful partner that would be great!” Kalim explained, but his tone didn’t sound like he was sharing a fun fact

-It sounded like a threat.

- “C’mon Y/N I’ve gotta show you something!” Kalim giggled, steering you outside, toward one of the balconies of the Scarabia dorm and as soon as you stepped on Kalim let out a whistle, taking you away from the sandy terrain on a magic carpet.

- “I’m sorry for being so abrupt I just...I got a little mad watching that guy be all touchy with you” the white-haired boy said looking off into the distance.

-You giggled at his slight pout before questioning, “Kalim, are you jealous?”

- He sighed before he looked at you, “...A little- don’t be mad at me!” he begged, waving his hands.

-You laughed at him, picking him up by his shoulders, “Kalim there’s nothing for me to be mad about, and nothing for you to worry about,” before planting a soft kiss on his nose.

-One thing about you is that you always knew how to make people feel better :)

Jamil:

-He’s always been used to having things taken away from him, so Jamil was definitely afraid of losing you to something or someone.

-You both may have not been exactly dating just yet, but you were far too close to just be labeled as friends. Jamil attempted to neglect his feelings, yet he couldn’t help but get hot blooded over the display in front of him.

Some beastman from Savanaclaw stood, blocking your way from walking as he talked about the patches littered across his letterman jacket. Jamil knew he was a star athlete for basketball in Night Raven, but he couldn’t stand the look on his face.

-He knew you were looking for a way out, so when he wizzed pass, turning around to get another view of the situation for a split moment and you saw his long hair you bolted, yelling his name

- “Like I said before, I’m running late now move” you said to the guy as you sped up, ““Jamil, wait up!”

- As you caught your breath he looked at you with a solemn expression, “So who was that? Do you know him?”

- “Not really, he just stopped me when I was on my way out, why do you ask?” He couldn’t get mad at you, besides he couldn’t say anything exactly, so what could he say?

- “Don’t hang around him, he’s bad news and has terrible hygiene, Y/N,” he said, trying to make an excuse so that you won’t spend time with him. But with the light blush that decorated his cheeks and a slight fidget which made him touch your hand, you could tell something was up.

- “Jamil…are you jealous-?”

- “Absolutely not, don’t bring those accusations to my character, Y/N” he said, upset and waving his hand around but you still laughed at Jamil’s actions. But he knew something for sure, he had to make you his soon. 

#twisted wonderland #twst #twisted wonderland x reader #jamil x reader #Jamil Viper #jamil viper x reader #twst jamil #jamil #jamil x you #jamil x y/n #jamil x yuu #twst jamil viper #jamil viper x y/n #jamil viper x male reader #Jamil x gender neutral reader #disney twisted wonderland #disney twst #twst headcanons #twisted wonderland imagines #twisted wonderland headcanons #twisted wonderland jamil #twisted wonderland Jamil viper #kalim #kalim al asim #twst kalim #kalim x reader #kalim al asim x reader #twst kalim al asim #twsited wonderland #twisted wonderland kalim

[heliads]

Ink Stains

Moving from Amity to Dauntless was quite the lifestyle change. Still, nothing rocks your boat more than meeting Eric Coulter for the first time, especially when he seems to like you more than he should.

masterlist

Creativity does not flourish much in Dauntless, nor art for that matter. It is strange, then, that you, so fully borne of both, would choose this bloody faction as opposed to any other. Your birth faction, Amity, is better suited to your temperament and interests, but you had hardly realized that when you underwent the Choosing Ceremony. All of us must leave our homes when we grow up, and only very few can return.

Dauntless seemed like the furthest place you could run, so of course that was the one you chose. You missed it later, only after loathing it, blaming it for your troubles, and finally admitting that it might have been a good home to you, but only after far too long.

Sometimes, you think that’s why the city decided to force its inhabitants to choose their home faction when they’re so young. At that age, all you want to do is escape, so you pick something strange and foreign, a faction that your family would hate so you could fight back against them. When the dust clears and you realize that the past was not so terrible after all, you are in the middle of a strange place with no way of returning, so you have no choice but to fight to stay there.

It would instill a truly fascinating sense of dedication in its transfers, to say the least. Or perhaps no one is like that at all, and it is just that you have made a mistake with no way to fix it. Maybe you should have stayed in Amity after all, been content with familiar nothingness and learned to fake your smiles at least as well as your mother, or save your anger for when no one can see it, like your father.

You don’t think you were meant for Amity, though, not really. It vexed you to no end, the simplicity of it all. You did enjoy the painting, the artists that sprung up in every corner, common as dandelions, but that wasn’t the end of it. The rules were chafing yet vague, the expectations ever-changing. It should have come as no surprise that you would leave.

Besides, you did well in Dauntless initiation, to the great surprise of just about everyone there. They saw your brightly colored clothes when you leapt from the roof, but soon enough you blended in with the lot of them and people would double take when you told them you hadn’t been born in Dauntless proper. The thought that you could be from Amity of all places was insane, and had it not been for the fact that you still remember the waving gold of the fields, the high flying birds that soared above your head, you would have believed it as little as your new friends.

Despite your best attempts to immediately separate yourself from your former faction, you couldn’t shake the memories completely. That’s why you didn’t shoot for one of the top jobs or security positions. Those were snapped up by the really good kids, the ones who aren’t just not carefree but genuinely heartless.

You ended up taking a position among the ranks of tattoo artists and quickly soared to the top. Amity had taught you clarity and control in your art, and soon you were known for your original designs. More often than not, Dauntless looking for a new pattern would ask you to draw something directly as opposed to just using one of the countless templates already printed out.

It gives them a sense of originality, for one thing. No one tattoo is ever the same when it comes to your works. It saves members of the faction from the embarrassing experience of showing off a new tattoo just to see the guy across from you roll up his sleeve to reveal the exact same thing.

Soon enough, your name has spread far and wide across Dauntless, and you get more and more customers by the day. That’s how you know that you ended up choosing the right faction and way of life after all, and it’s also how you meet Eric Coulter for the first time.

Eric is somewhat of a mixed bag. He only graduated from initiation a year or so before you, so he didn’t lead your training when you first joined the faction. You’ve heard he’s a total killer, both in the fighting ring and at every other moment of the day, so you were more than a little uneasy when he first darkened the door of your shop.

You’re not really sure what you expected when he showed up in the beginning. That he’d yell at you, maybe, like you’d heard in whispers. Apparently he’d go off on anyone if he felt the need– someone taking the wrong water glass in the mess hall, or an idiot trainee who didn’t get ready in time– or he could have just been there to complain about some failed regulation you didn’t know about.

Instead, he was nice, actually, which was somehow even more unsettling than if he’d just been the harsh training leader he is to everyone else. He’d spent a lot of time admiring your works, even offering up a rare compliment here and there. At last, he’d decided on an initial design, and taken a seat on your chair.

Most clients talk at least a little while you’re tattooing them. New initiates usually rattle off their difficulties, grateful for an ear that won’t judge them or try to use their weaknesses to gain a position or two in the rankings. Experienced Dauntless sometimes swap gossip or discuss various pieces of information they’ve heard from contacts in other factions. Others just stay silent the whole time, thinking through ideas they’ll barely even hint at to you.

One of your friends has tattooed Eric before, and they told you he’d been absolutely icy the whole appointment, hardly even saying a word except to point out which tattoo he wanted. Maybe he’d just had a bad day then, because you and Eric actually end up talking the entire time. 

He complains about the initiates being unable to so much as tie their shoes without needing his directions, and laughs when you counter his stories with what you’ve seen outside of the scheduled training hours. Eric asks you about how you started tattooing and seems genuinely stunned that you grew up in Amity.

“It doesn’t seem possible,” he tells you over the hum of the tattoo needle, “you’re, like, normal.”

You laugh at that. “The Amity are normal, Coulter.”

He narrows his eyes. “They’re weird. Happy-go-lucky strangers. Not you, though,” he adds quickly, “you’re tough. A real Dauntless.”

“Don’t worry, I won’t take offense if you insult the Amity,” you grin, “I left for a reason, believe me on that.”

Eric frowns. “What was the reason, if you don’t mind me asking?”

You sigh, staring at the design you’re working through for a moment before getting up the strength to continue. “I clashed with the higher-ups a lot. If you weren’t totally happy and living life all the time, you felt like you were disappointing them. Everyone there claims that they’re only ever nice to them, but the faction leaders told me I was a screwup more times than I could count. Even my own parents.”

When you risk a glance up, you notice that Eric’s expression has twisted down into something colder, something almost like rage. “They were wrong. They shouldn’t have said that.”

“I know,” you laugh to yourself, “I did well in initiation, obviously they should have guessed that.”

After a while, Eric is convinced to laugh a little alongside you, but the anger doesn’t erase itself from his features for some time. “Yes,” he mumbles almost to himself, “they should have.”

The rest of the session passes without incident. The next day, you find yourself waiting at your empty station. He was supposed to come back to finish the piece, but he’s a few minutes late, and you can’t help but wonder if it’s on purpose, that you said or did something to chase him off. It could be nothing, of course, but you never know.

He ends up hurrying in soon enough, the slightly quickened beat of his walk the only sign that something is on his mind. You look up when he arrives, allowing yourself a small smile. He did come back, then. You were not too much.

“Glad to see you,” you say, “I was worried I scared you off with my inherent Amity-ness. I’ve heard it’s bad for Dauntless. Ruins the whole stoic demeanor if we smile too much.”

His lips twitch upwards briefly, but whatever had been bothering him before tamps that forbidden emotion down soon enough. “No, not your fault in the slightest. Some initiate was using the wrong kind of gun during today’s drills, nearly put another kid’s eye out. I don’t even know where he got the thing, but it happened anyway.”

“Ah,” you say with a knowing look, “Initiates.”

“Always initiates,” Eric grumbles, but he allows his smile to stick this time, and you think that maybe he isn’t as bad as the rumors allow.

The rest of the session is just as good, if not better. Eric is kind to you, says things that grow increasingly apparent to be jokes. It’s funny, you’d always heard that he was this terribly cold guy, but everyone else must have gotten him at a bad time. Either that, or that’s the Amity in you seeing the best of everyone. Still, you’re certain that his good attitude whenever you’re around isn’t faked. It can’t be.

There’s silence from him for a while. You don’t take it personally, or you shouldn’t, anyway– Eric’s a busy guy, you know that from his words alone if not from always seeing him rush around the compound. He’s a Dauntless leader, he’s not going to be hanging around a tattoo shop unless he’s actively getting new ink.

Then, about a week or so later, he comes back in. Busies himself with looking at the patterns for a while even though you both know he’s not going to get something anyone else could have. This time, he talks to you, asks what you wish you got to draw more often. When you answer, he has you put that in his latest design. It makes your stomach tie itself in tight knots, more intense than even when you’d thrown yourself off the roof on your first day on Dauntless earth.

Confusingly, Eric stops you when you’re about halfway through, says that’s all the time he’s got and that he’d like to continue tomorrow, if that’s alright with you. You ask him if he minds having an incomplete tattoo on his arm and he just laughs, tells you he’ll pull his sleeves down or something. It’s a terrible excuse, but it’s what he wants and so that must be what you want, too. It’s good business. You can tell yourself that when you’re lying awake at night, wondering just what you’ve gotten yourself into.

Eric comes in almost every day, demanding increasing progress on his tattoos. You don’t know why he insists on doing them piecewise– it’s not pain tolerance, he’s got more of that than anyone around and it’s not like Dauntless Leader Eric Coulter would ever admit to something pathetic like pain. It must be something else, then. It must be.

The tattoos spiral and change as they spread across his skin. They’re a mess, to be honest, no cohesive pattern, like he’s picking the templates with his eyes closed and only the goal of covering as much flesh as possible. 

You tell him his tattoo sleeves aren’t as coherent as they could be; he laughs, asks you to use your Amity artistry to make some sense of them. He seems unruffled by your accusations of poor taste. Later that same day, Eric punches someone’s nose in because some drunk fellow stumbling out of a party made the mistake of questioning the inked patterns. The idiot said the same things you did, more or less. One of you received a rare smile, the other, a broken bone. It makes no sense.

At some point, he’s going to run out of skin to tattoo. You warn him of this and he grins, flashing dagger-sharp teeth at you. Says that’s why he’s asking you to go so slowly with it. Inch by inch, he cedes control to you. You want to question what that means, but some part of you is scared to ask, scared that he’ll change his mind and leave, or worse, ask someone else to do it.

The last day comes, and this time you know it’ll be the end with certainty. Eric asks you to ink his throat in thick stripes, almost like you can see the angles of his spine through the skin. You sit there, trying to focus on your needle, finishing the design, instead of anything foolish like his head in your hands, his eyes resting quietly on you. He can’t talk while you’re working on his neck like this, but the weight of his gaze says enough anyway.

You finish the last stroke and allow yourself to sit there for one final moment, waiting for it all to be over. Your fingers rest on the smooth expanse of his cheekbone, and Eric raises his hand to cover yours.

“Well,” you say at last, trying to keep your voice light, “it’s been an honor to tattoo you, Eric.”

He smiles. The brief, unwelcome thought that this might be the last time you see him do that flashes through your head, and you banish it just as quickly. That’s not something you want to think about right now, if ever.

“I’d say I’m the one who’s been honored,” he returns, “you’ve got the best work in the faction and everyone knows it.”

You feel some small surge of pride in your chest when he says it, hot and bright like the Dauntless flames. “Thank you.”

“You can thank me in a different way,” he offers, “Drinks tomorrow night, maybe? On me?”

You smile back at him. “I think I’d like that.”

“Good,” he grins, standing so he can look down at you. “I’ll pick you up then. It’ll be fun. Maybe you can teach me some of that Amity optimism.”

You can’t help but laugh at that. It would suit him, you think, smiling more, trusting you so he can let down his guard. Looking at him, at how his eyes brighten when he laughs, you think it already does.

divergent tag list: @dindjarinneedsahug, @poisonmenegan, @ozyynka, @rogueanschel, @with-inked-solace, @gods-fools-heroes, @23victoria, @manyfandomsfanvergent, @imwaysthelastchoice, @drinking-tea-and-be-obsessed, @crazyhearttragedy, @alex-1967s-blog

#eric coulter #eric coulter imagines #eric coulter x reader #eric coulter oneshot #divergent #divergent imagines #divergent x reader #divergent oneshot #divergent eric #divergent eric imagines #divergent eric x reader #divergent eric oneshot

[chixkencxrry]

mi sol

Summary: You get a new job as a caretaker at a mysterious estate two towns over. The salary is good enough for you to ignore certain things -- at first. Soon enough you have no choice but to get away. Too bad you're in for life. (one-shot, plot with porn) Vampire! Yandere! Miguel O'Hara x Fem! Reader

Warnings: eventual SMUT, masturbation, p in v, pussy eating, somewhat YANDERE! MIGUEL, YOUR CONSUMPTION OF MEDIA IS ON YOU! NOT PROOFED

fanart by @yeagersatorubar (twt)

The email had come in the middle of the night.

It was from an unrecognizable source. An acceptance to something, some job you didn’t remember applying for. A caretaker job two towns over. You rubbed your eyes in the blue light glare of your rickety laptop, lips pursued as you read.

“When did I apply for this?”

Attached to the close of the email was a number and name. A woman named Lyla was the contact. The name of the property was Stone. You dialled the number. If the person was sending the email this late, you didn’t worry about your call waking them up. 

“Hello. You must be our new caretaker.”

You cleared your throat – taken aback. “I, uh, yes. I am. I hope it’s okay that I’m calling this late.”

The woman chuckled. “That’s fine! You’ll learn that we keep odd hours here.”

“Right,” did you really need the money that much? You eyed your room. It was pink, with posters half hanging. It had been your childhood room and you still occupied it. It made your mouth itch. You needed to leave. “When do you want me to start?”

Though as your taxi pulled up to the estate, you found yourself regretting it. Maybe regret was too strong a word. You found yourself reconsidering it. Had you done something terribly stupid by coming here? By packing your things and telling your parents they could fuck off?

It had taken four hours to get here, the sun had set and it was twilight now. Would it be too early to run back with your tail between your legs? Were you so weak that you had to give up? 

“That’ll be 50$.” the driver grunted, growing impatient with your slow movement.

You baulked and shoved the bill into his hand. Out of spite, you took your time to get your bags out – making sure you didn’t miss one. You could have sworn you heard him curse as he drove off. Rolling your eyes, you slid your phone out to get to your emails – Lyla had sent you the code to get in. Turning your flashlight on the keypad, you punched the code in and continued your trek up the property. It was a long walk that left you huffing. 

Once you met the great doors, you knocked the lion-faced knockers loudly a few times and waited. When you went to try for a second time, it pierced your skin, making you hiss. Your finger slipped into your mouth and you sucked. 

The door swung open to reveal a fashionable dress auburn-haired woman with heart-shaped sunglasses. She grinned at you. All sharp, white teeth. “Hello! Aren't you an earlier riser?”

You bristled. “Pardon?”

“Are these your bags?” She turned her head inside the mansion and whistled. “I’ll get Ben to bring them in.”

Lyla was the assistant of the owner of the house. A real recluse, she claimed. You didn’t mind. They had paid you a freaking signing bonus when you agreed. Who gave signing bonuses to caretakers? Dumb rich people. This guy could be a troll for all you cared. As long as each salary came with the flourish of that, you could never meet the man. 

“It's more of a managerial position really.” Lyla clarified after showing you the lion’s share of the house. “Ben takes care of the heavy lifting. Or Peter – he doesn’t show up much though, new father and all that.”

“We have cameras in the common areas. Bedrooms and baths are off limits of course. You’ll get access to them.”

“So, Mr. Stone just wants me to look after the place? Make sure it's clean and in order?”

Lyla stilled, causing you to bump into her. Her pale face twitched. “Mr. O’Hara. Don’t make that mistake again.”

“Sorry. It’s just the name of the estate –”

Lyla shook her head. “Don’t make that mistake again.”

“My bad.”

The tour continued on silently. Lyla stopped at the West Wing, where a portrait of a young family hung. They were dressed in regalia from at least three centuries ago. It was of two beautiful boys, a stately-looking woman and a cold-faced man. You shivered. You hoped the man was not Mr O’Hara.

“Don’t worry,” Lyla seemed to read your mind. Her pointer finger landed on the taller of the two boys. “That’s Mr O’Hara.”

You relaxed. Even though it was an old photo, the bright-eyed kid couldn’t be too different from the man who had just hired yourself out to. 

Right?

***

Miguel felt warm.

For the first time in a century, he felt the warmth of you in the walls of his prison. It was like feeling the sun again. Like tasting wine, luscious and dark. You were home. He hadn’t risen yet. His meal sat by his window, eyes glossed over with compulsion. Miguel didn’t want to see you without eating. It had been so long after all. So very long without your touch, the brush of your lips, the scent of your hair, the feel of your pussy.

He throbbed with want for you. 

Rising from his coffin, his talons fell. Piercing two holes in the side of his meal’s neck, Miguel made sure to drink his fill until it was cold and listless. His fangs, his fangs he would keep for you. 

It was funny how it started. He had run into you while on a hunt. Well, you hadn’t noticed of course. You had been on a date, smelling of want and looking like sin in red. He wasn’t worthy of you. But that man touched you and lips had planted on your skin – he was lucky Miguel hadn’t killed him right then and there. He had been too caught up in you. Looking at you. Seeing you. Flesh and fire before him. The curls of your hair, the flare of your hips, the drag of your voice and the thrill of your laughter.

That man did not deserve any of that.

All of that belonged to him. 

In the computer age, everything lay at his fingertips. He found you with ease. Found where you lived. Who you were now. Everything that the web of connections could provide. He knew what books you read, what songs you liked, your favourite bands and flower. 

He also knew you needed him. You were twenty-five and unemployed, living with your parents and your art wasn’t selling as you’d liked. How that desperation clung to you, how that desperation made you sweet to him. 

A gurgling sound distracted him. 

Sneering, he looked at his feet to see the meal had not totally died. Rolling his eyes, he tore the heart out of its chest and sucked the remaining blood. He cursed. 

Now he’d have to shower before seeing you. What a nuisance.

After cleaning off the blood, he watched the surveillance footage of Lyla giving you the door and waited until she’d left you alone like he’d asked to find you. He didn’t want an interloper. He wanted you alone to create a repertoire. 

Running his fingers through his hair, he checked his teeth in the mirror — all traces of blood were gone. His talons were retracted, fangs disappeared but his eyes were still red from feeding. Would that freak you? He didn’t want to change it.

Tapping his smartwatch, he ordered Lyla to bring him a pair of contacts. 

“Why? Won’t it just dissolve in a few hours?” 

“Because I said so.”

“Well, now I’m not gonna bring them on principle.”

Miguel snapped. “Lyla…please bring the goddamn contacts.”

“They’re already in your room, fearless creator. Vanity drawer to the left.”

Miguel switched the watch off. Carefully, he placed the contacts onto his eyes. They stung a little but he only needed it for a few hours. They would be long dissolved and by then his eyes would return to their true brown. 

You were beautiful in the kitchen. Hair tied up in a bun ontop of your head. Messy curls sweep to your forehead. Lips, pinked and plumb moving as you chewed. You seemed to try to make yourself seem smaller. Crouching over the plate of chicken salad Lyla had prepared for you. She couldn’t cook – his golem, but she tried. They had so few human guests these days after all.

Miguel cleared his throat, making you jolt and stare at him with big eyes. Your lashes fluttered, and you wiped your mouth with the back of your hand and stood. “Oh, hello! You must be Mr. O’Hara.”

Your offered hand hung for a moment. He eyed it. Bare, delicate, your nails sharpened to a humanly acceptable point. He realised he’d been staring for longer than necessary and took it, glad he fed so his body warm. Your hand slipped in with ease. He gripped it and shook it, saying your name. “Call me Miguel. It’s nice to meet you. Lyla gave you the grounds tour?”

“Oh...no, she, uh, showed me the house and my quarters but not the grounds.” You titled your head, looking out the window. “I figured it was too dark out, no?”

Excellent. “We have very good lights. If you’re finished eating, I can give you the tour myself.”

“Yes! Definitely.” So eager. How promising.

***

Mr. O’Hara – no, Miguel, led you out by placing a hand on the small of your back. It was large and spanning and brushed against the rise of your ass before it fell to his side again and he resumed a respectable distance. He smelt of sandalwood and citrus. An oud wafted from him. This immaculately dressed older man with lines on his face creating dimension. He couldn’t be much older than you, but everything about him seemed grown whereas you seemed like a child playing dress up in adulthood. 

The grounds were massive. Three acres he’d said. There was a small rose garden that led out to a private lake. A family mausoleum that made you shutter when you passed it. Arched trees bent over the manicured green. The entire place was immaculate. 

What on earth did they need you for?

“Did the pass caretaker retire?”

Miguel shook his head. A small fence came into view. You saw dried-up shrubs and trees, barren spots and a small shed. “She passed.”

“My condolences,” you whispered softly, fingers brushing along his arm to comfort him briefly. “What is this?”

“It used to be a greenhouse.”

There was nothing green about the space. Clearing your throat, you let Miguel guide you back to the house. It was late now. You grew tired. So, very tired. “You have a beautiful home.”

“Thank you.” His eyes peered curiously at her. She swore they flashed red but that may have been her weariness showing. “I hope you can be comfortable here.”

His gaze was intense. You found it difficult to look away – it caused a dizzying effect on you. Turning away, Miguel and you went back into the house and he escorted you to your quarters. “Thank you for this opportunity. I’m really excited to dig in.”

He smiled – all white teeth. “No. I’m pleased to have you here. You have no idea how much.”

When you finally closed your door you let out a slight squeal of excitement. Biting your lower lip, you traced your fingers along the door. You had not expected Mr. O’Hara to look like that. Sure, he was certainly a mature man. The lines on his face told you that he was at least mid-thirties and the way he carried himself like a grown man would. 

God. You didn’t know how you were going to make it out working with such a specimen. You could barely keep it together on the walk! Running your hand over your hair, you went to your laptop bag and pulled the small notebook out. You googled your new boss, disappointed to find nothing much. There was one link that had his name, a record from an archive three hundred years ago. When you clicked it, it bounced back. 

Frustrated, you closed it and decided to just go to bed. 

Weeks passed by, and a monolith of activity passed. You devoted your all to the house but particularly the greenhouse at the back of the property beside the lake. It became a passion project of yours. Lyla and Ben were helpful of course – they made sure that you got all the aid and materials you needed to realise your vision. 

You became closer to the other members of the house. Lyla was kind and a good guide for you. Miguel was something.

It was not that you had an extensive working history but you were quite sure the interest he seemed to pay to you and your tasks were a little extra attention. In some regard, it unnerved you. But in another, you liked the praise and appreciation you received for every task completed. You also didn’t mind being in close proximity to him. There was no denying that Miguel had become a crush of yours and the star of your private fantasies.

Look at him. All harsh angles and sharpness, but his actions, his words were rose petal soft. God. He was a delicious man.

Another thing that struck you as strange was the utter loneliness of the house when the sun was up. When they had called themselves nocturnal creatures, you had merely thought it meant that they slept very late or worked very late in the evening. You were wrong though – they were completely gone during the day. In the afternoons they rose, bright and colourful as your energy dwindled down. 

“Techies,” Lyla had explained. “We work best at night – what can we say!”

It felt like bullshit but the pay was too good for you to make it your business. By the beginning of your third month, you know the place like the back of your hand. Well – most of it but for the wing Lyla had warned you against. One particularly slow day temptation had gotten the better of you. Could your curiosity be blamed for your next act? You crept into the area, floorboard creaking as you looked. It was not a different hallway than the others. 

A painting sat at the edge – but it was too poorly lit for you to see from your end. Squinting, you walked closer. The painting held a tear. It was a woman no doubt, soft-featured but you only saw up to her lower lip on which sat a mole. Something pulled at you. 

You stretched forward, fingertips brushing the dried oil and hanging paper. Pushing it up to see the face, your breathe hitched at the sight. 

The hairs at the back of your neck stood up and your stomach turned. You ran back to the other half of the house, heart speeding in your chest to jump through your ribs. You closed your door – the feeling of your skin getting ready to crawl off your body not leaving. You rubbed your ribs beneath your bosom. 

Everything about that had felt wrong. 

Since you began working here – you hadn’t taken a weekend off. Packing your bag hurriedly, you made a call to your mother, placing her on speaker. It rang for only a few moments.

“Hello, little stranger.”

“Mom – I, I need to come home.”

The panic in your voice set her voice on edge. “Baby? Is everything alright at your job?”

“I just got a bad feeling, Mom. I just need to come home.”

“Okay. Call an Uber.” Logic was your mother’s failsafe in times of duress. 

You shook your head. Ubers didn’t get this far out. You would have to walk a mile into the town to order one or call a taxi. “No. They won’t come here. I’ll head to town and catch something.”

“Call me when you’re there. Okay?” Your mother cautioned. 

“Okay...I will.”

Packing your things took longer than anticipated. You looked at your watch – it was almost five. It usually got dark around six. Shouldering your haversack and duffel bag, you snuck out of the estate and made your walk down the winding road to the town. 

Your bags felt heavy and the road took forever. Eventually, you found a bus stop. It was just about twilight now. The blue sky became a warm orange. Warm day dying into a cool evening. 

You sighed, back hitting the seat of the bench. The app told you the next bus to town was coming in the next twelve minutes. You just needed one ride to the inner city and there you could easily get an Uber home. 

Closing your eyes, you felt relaxed for the first time in an hour. 

You were safe. You were going home. 

***

He knew you were missing the moment the sun had set. 

Miguel had stretched the entire expanse of the property – searching everywhere for you. All of your things were gone from your quarters. Even your dirty laundry was gone. It was still full of your scent. He dug his nose into the rumpled sheets. Lilac and Lily. His talons dug through them – he picked up notes of fear and curiosity. Fear? What had made you fearful?

Miguel went to the abandoned wing. Your scent filled the air. Had you been snooping little girl? The painting. You’d seen your first iteration from so long ago. 

“Lyla,” Miguel roared. “I want everyone on the ground looking for her. She doesn’t leave this town – do you hear me?”

“Louder than necessary but okay.”

He drove from the estate, through the town until he picked up your scent. His talons dug into the steering. Rage fuelled him like no other. Had you really thought you could leave? He thought he could be patient, be kind, and wait you out. Then you left. 

What made you think you had the right?

His journey halted. Miguel retracted his talons and exited, fangs extended as you sat leaning back on a bus bench. About half a mile ahead, he could hear the incoming sound of the bus. You would get the chance. 

“Where do you think you’re going, mi sol?”

You jumped up, eyes wide. “Miguel! How did you?”

“I can find you anywhere.” He said gruffly. “You leave without notice at all your jobs?”

“I, uh, I was just taking the weekend off.”

He clicked his tongue. “You’re lying to me. You were snooping. Come back with me.”

“I’m not going back.” You snapped. “I don’t know what’s going on in that place but it's not natural.”

Miguel grew tired but he knew he couldn’t be heavy-handed. He had to be smart about this. “You’re right. I’m sorry about that go to your family. But know on Monday you’ll still have a job and a home with us.”

You were so easy to lie to that he almost felt bad.

The bus came and he fell back, watching you leave. The bus moved slowly down the dusty road. It was a long ride back to town. He tapped his watch and made a phone call. “Lyla. I need an accident. Now.”

“Fatal or fatale?”

He sighed. “I’m not in the mood for this right now.”

“Well, she doesn’t seem to be in the mood for you either.”

“Crash the damn bus, Lyla, now.”

“Already sent something that way, bossman.”

“Ayudame dios.”

Keeping up with the bus wasn’t a problem. Through the woodlands, he could see a creation jumping through – all fur and bolts, his favourite hairy bot crashing into the bus from the front, making the driver stop immediately. The wolf sat growing, padding its way to the front sidewheels before he punctured it with his teeth tearing through. The bus leaned to its side, dipping. He watched, from his parked spot, morbidly as the great machine broke the side window, paw reaching in. He heard you scream and smelt the faint scent of your blood. 

Miguel decided it had gone too far then, chasing the creature off. 

The driver of the bus came out first, assessing the damages. You shivered, trembling as you climbed down with your bags on your shoulders. You had been crying. Salty tears rolled down your cheeks. “How long until someone gets out here.”

The driver scratched his head. “Best luck you got is to hitchhike. They’ll come get me in an hour or two. Sorry, darling.”

That was his cue. Miguel started the car and drove by slowly. It was tinted so you excitedly jumped up and down, glad to think it was a kindly stranger. As if he would leave you to be picked up by some ill-thinking stranger.

He stopped, rolling the windows down. “Need a ride?”

You looked stiff with fear. The driver, however, beamed at him. “Oh, sure young man. This lady is heading into town. Think you can give her a ride?”

“Sure I can.” He unlocked the door, pushing it open. Miguel smiled at her, showing his sharp teeth. “Get in.”

Nodding, you hurriedly got into the vehicle. Your curly hair fell to your face as glossy eyes watched him. Miguel turned the radio on and a storm warning came out. 

“What are you?”

“Let’s get back to the estate and then I can explain.” Miguel made a sharp U-Turn and drove past the wreckage, racing back to the property. 

He could smell your fear, the hint of your blood, he looked down seeing a little blood blooming beneath your white dress. It formed a little cloud. He hissed, he hadn’t meant for you to get hurt. “Are you in pain?”

You kissed your teeth instead of responding to him. He sighed. He had expected that – you always, without fail, had a bad attitude when he fucked up. Miguel cursed himself, he should have removed that painting. Why hadn’t he thought clearly? “I didn’t want it to come to this – if you had just let me explain.”

“What is there to explain?”

The estate was coming into view now. Rising like a terrible moon on the horizon.

“It wasn’t you in the painting.” He clarified. “Well, not you. A version of you.”

He punched the code in, the gates opening as he drove up and slamming shut behind the two of you. “That doesn’t make any sense, Miguel.”

You clutched your bags, walking ahead of him as you entered the house. You set them down and Miguel smelt your blood more. “Let me fix you up. Please.”

You flinched but allowed him to lead you to the other side of the house into the very wing that had made you run. Miguel tucked his hands into his pockets. Watching you carefully step ahead. He tried hard not to look at your ass, the switch and sway of the hefty cheeks but he tried to keep his mind on task and out of the gutter.

Which was hard since you looked and smelt like you.

“Are you human?”

“No.”

You gasped, wrapping your arms around you. “Okay.”

Miguel could positively hear your mind working. You turned to look at him, eyes narrowed as if to find the answer in his face. Miguel decided to make it easy on you. He opened his mouth, fangs dropped. 

“Shit!”

“Shit.”

A familiar door came up. His hand settled on your waist, stopping you from going further. He felt you shiver under his touch. The faint scent of your arousal wafting upward. His gums shivered. 

“C’mon,” his voice was gruff. “It's right through here.”

It had been decades since Miguel had let anyone but Lyla in. Having you here – where he slept, fed, and worked as a sort of rawness he had missed. He had missed you. Miguel had learned to love this new version of you, you sang as you worked along the house. Danced to pop songs and cooked in the early mornings before the sun rose. 

“Sit here.” he directed you to a chaise lounge, eyes gazing back. “Take the dress off.”

Your lips quivered with a mounting argument but common sense seemed to reign for a moment as you slipped it off. Just watching you made him harden. The black cups of your bra barely keep the fat of your tits in, through the thin lace, he could see the puckered areolas of your breasts. The high waist of your thong dug into the subtle curve of your hourglass figure.

Merida. 

Miguel set the tools down on the bed and cleaned the wound. It wasn’t too deep, just a flesh wound that didn’t need stitches. He brought his thumb to his fang and nicked the skin, pressing the open hole to your wound he smeared it with blood. 

“Jesus Christ…that’s a health code violation.”

He snorted, leaning forward and licking it clean. After his saliva had wiped it off, not even a cut remained. “All better, mi sol.”

“What does that mean?”

“My sn.” he translated. “You’re my sun. Always have been.”

“So you’re a vampire.”

“I’m a vampire.”

You hummed. “And the woman who looks like me in the painting?”

“My wife when I was human.”

“Ah.”

“And I’m a version of her?”

“One of many.”

“Did you kill them?”

“God no.” The idea made his skin burn. “I could never, never hurt you.”

“But you’re a vampire, Miguel. What kind of promise is that?”

“Every time you’ve been in my reach, I loved you until you left me. Until old age took you or until sickness took you.”

Miguel fell to his knees resting his head on your lap. Your face read on incredulity but the fear had vanished from your scent. Curiosity with hints of want. 

“I’m going back to my room.” You stated, picking up your bloodied dress. “And tomorrow night, we’ll talk.”

“Okay.”

***

You couldn’t sleep. When you got back to your room, you shower and change. Texting your mom to know you’re alright. You try to listen to music. To watch a movie. To read but nothing gets you sleep. 

Perhaps it's simply a side-effect of finding out your work for vampires. 

Rain began to pour outside, it was a soothing sound – you blushed as another thought came to mind. There was another way to get you to sleep. Opening your door, you peek outside, making sure the hallway was clear.

Closing your door, you twist the look and step out of your nightshirt and slide your panties off your hips. Digging into one of your bags, tucked at the very bottom was your prize. The blue vibrator stuck out to you. Catching your lower lip with your teeth, you sat at the edge of your bed. Raising one leg and keeping the other down, your legs were spread. 

Your thumb rose the speed to your usual one as you teased your clitoris with it. Eyes closed, you imagined a familiar scenario. Your back against a wall, legs hooked by a faceless strong man. He would take his time with you first. Fucking a thick cock in and out of your wet cunt. 

Your head fell back, as the man in your imagination sped up, fucking you harder. Back hitting the wall. As your height came – you murmured a name and a face appeared in your imagination. 

“Miguel.”

Your climax was instant, spraying wetness onto the edge of the bed, a few droplets dampening the carpet. You set the vibrator aside, collapsing onto the bed. Hands roamed up and down the length of your body, and you vibrated with desire – Miguel’s hands would be bigger than yours, rubbing along your figure, grabbing and biting. He would want you. He would let it be known how much he needed you. 

Your fingers went back to your pussy, rubbing the sticky substance about before slipping a finger in. His fingers would spread you better. Fuck you better. You were sure. 

“You look delicious, mi sol.”

Eyes flickered open – Miguel stood at your door with glowing red eyes and mouth parted in hunger as he stared. His hair was not gelled as usual, falling curls making him look dishevelled. Shamelessly, you added a second finger. The wet sounds grew louder. In the quickness of a blink, he appeared in front of you. He squatted in front of your pussy – inches from your furious fingering.

“That’s it, baby. Make yourself come.”

You snapped like a whip. Miguel growled before you, eyes never leaving your wanton form. “Tell me I can touch you.”

“You can touch me.” you whimpered.

He sighed, a hand resting on the mound of your pussy. His thumb stroked your clit. “Tell me I can kiss you, mi cara.”

“Kiss me.”

Miguel’s lips planted themselves on the folds of your pussy. He kissed and sucked, tonguing the insides of you while he strummed your clit. He took his time. Savouring the flavours of your pussy, moaning as he ate and tasted every crevice of you. 

Your fingers threaded his curly hair, gripping them as you ground against his face. His lips sucked on your clit, his hand moving from your mound to your thigh to keep your legs open while two of his thick fingers sawed into you. 

Messily, you sprayed his face, hips moving maddeningly against his pretty face. Miguel sucked it down, licking and nipping at your trembling centre. When he rose, his face was shiny and he grinned down at you. 

“Say you want this.”

How could you not? “I need this.”

You watched with earnestness as he pulled his pants down, slipping them off. His T-shirt went next. His body was better than you had imagined. The bounce of his thick cock. Begging to be made shiny with your pussy.

“Spread yourself for me, baby. Let me see this pretty little pussy.”

Your fingers spread yourself, you watched as he stroked himself, coating the large member with pre-cum. He bowed his head, spitting on your wet cunt. Miguel’s thumb rubbed the saliva in, using two of his fingers to open the weeping carven. Slowly he entered you – his thickness making you gasp. 

Your hands gripped his shoulders, moaning as he bottomed out. You whimpered, groaning as he started to move. Your legs wrapped around him, nails digging into his shoulders. 

“You’re doing so good, mi sol. Taking my cock so deep.”

His hips snapped, taking his time as you grew used to him. Miguel was certainly bigger than any toy you owned. His cock dragged along you like he was making sure you took him so deep you didn’t know where you ended and he began. 

“Such a good girl. Mi vida. Mi luz.” His hand went to your throat, squeezing it slowly as his eyes stayed on your face. Memorising every O your lips made. It was disconcerting. But when his hips sped up, shaking the bed and making you mewl – you couldn’t care less. 

Miguel’s head bowed, lips to your neck as he kissed his way down to your breasts. You felt his teeth graze the soft flesh of your breasts. He didn’t have to say what he wanted. You wanted it too, you could feel the tremble of your upcoming orgasm. 

“Do it.”

He didn’t need to be told twice. Teeth sinking into the flesh and sucking. You creamed his cock, shouting obscenities as your orgasm shuddered through your entire body. Stars dotted your eyes, your toes curled and your bite your tongue so hard it bled.

Miguel’s hips went faster, hips snapping hard into you that it pained you ever so slightly. His cock twitched with an especially vicious plunge, painting your walls with his cum. Fangs retracting, Miguel licked your nipple, lips kissing it as he held you close. 

The high of it all slowly died down. You felt the thickness of his cock and the fullness of his seed. Your fingers traced along his arm. “I’m guessing you’ve been hearing me most nights for the past three months.”

He kissed your sternum and then your lips. It was a passionate kiss. And you realised – your first kiss. How backwards the two of you had done everything. How unjust – because it seemed Miguel was a damned good kisser.

 “And every night I touched myself to your sound.”

Your pussy clenched around him at the thought. Miguel smirked. “Aren’t you sore?”

“I’ll worry about that later.”

“As you wish.”

***

“So you’re sure everything is alright now?”

You rolled your eyes, reassuring your mother for the fifth today. It had been a solid week since you’d left and returned. Your mother still didn’t believe it was totally consensually – despite the fact that you had invited her and she’d come and see that you were totally alive and well. 

“You can’t blame your mother for worrying.”

“I know.” Your eyes flickered outside the greenhouse. It was night now. The other members of the house would be up soon. Your mother and you finished talking soon after. It seemed like on cue as you finished the call Miguel came into the greenhouse. Pulling off your muddy gloves, you smiled at him. At your side in and second he kissed your forehead and set his hands around your waist. 

“Hello, mi luz.”

“Hi, baby.” You kissed his mouth. “Did you feed yet?”

He hummed a confirmation, caging you against the desk. Miguel picked up a seed packing, explaining it. “Hibiscus? I don’t think those grew here.”

“Well, they’re not native,” you said. Slipping out from him, you dragged him down to his knees to see a box of soil you’d been working on. “But I’m sure I’ve got the soil mixture down. In the next few months, we’ll see how it goes.”

His hand rubbed along the side of your body. “That’s incredible, baby.”

Standing up, you looked down at him and blushed. “Well, its no machine wolf.”

“Mhmm.” His hands held your hips, squeezing the globes of your ass cheeks. He smacked the fat, groping it unashamedly. His nose pressed to your groin. “You’re an incredible woman. I hope you remember that.”

“Kiss up.”

His eyes flashed, and his lips spread to a mischievous grin. Miguel fell back onto the ground of the greenhouse. You smirked setting legs on either side of your hips. You unbuckled his pants and took his member out. You stroked it, spitting on the tip of it, before rubbing up and down. His hand raised your skirt up, a talon stretching out and cutting the side of your panty off. He pulled it off, baring your pussy against the rough material of your jeans. 

Hips raised, Miguel pulled you onto his cock, grinning as you whimpered at the sudden intrusion of his thickness. Your hands pressed to his hard chest, crying as he fucked up into you. 

Yes, you thought, eyes rolling back, everything was more than alright.

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[drnikolatesla]

X-Ray Image Taken By Nikola Tesla (1896)

Though not widely known, Nikola Tesla spent a great deal of time intensively researching X-rays, publishing his results during the period between March 11, 1896 to August 11, 1897. He also gave a lecture on April 6, 1897 presenting designs of several different devices that could generate these powerful rays. During this lecture, he shared similar data and conclusions from his earlier experiments with Crookes tubes in 1894. Crookes tubes were invented by British scientist William Crookes in order to study electrical discharges in vacuum tubes. During Tesla’s experiments in 1894, he observed that some of the tubes that produced only feeble visible light had more effect on photographic plates than tubes which were brighter. Since it was obvious that there must be some kind of energy coming from the tubes with feeble light, and their properties were still unknown, Tesla used the term “radiant matter" to describe these radiations. With these tubes, Tesla produced some of the first X-ray imaging, which he called “shadowgraphs,” due to their dark nature, but still did not realize the importance of these radiations. To him, the photographs taken seemed to be spoiled due to unaccountable marks and defects. In March of 1895, a fire broke out in his laboratory, destroying practically all of his equipment and experimental data to date. It took several months before he could resume his work, and in the meantime, a German scientist named Wilhelm Röntgen made his X-ray discovery in the same year (December, 1895). Roentgen first detected the radiation by accident in his experiments where he was testing whether cathode rays emitted from Crookes tubes could pass through glass, and or other solid objects, but was astonished to find that the rays emitted would pass through thinner objects and leave shadows of the more solid objects behind (such as with skin and bones). When Tesla heard this news, it was immediately obvious to him what had been problematic in his laboratory work. Realizing and regretting that he had missed out on making a major scientific discovery, Tesla would say, “I realized that my guiding spirit had again prompted me and that I had failed to comprehend his mysterious signs.” He repeated Röntgen's experiments, and came to much better results than Röntgen and others since he had his newly developed Tesla Coil. With this apparatus, he immediately realized the importance of high voltages for producing powerful rays and suggested using his newly developed single-terminal tubes and connecting them to the secondary coil of the transformer. In 1896, Röntgen acknowledged Tesla’s discoveries and in a lecture before the Physical Medical Society in Wurzburg, Germany, discussed the advantage of using Tesla’s high-frequency transformer in generating X-rays. Tesla would also become one of the first scientists to point out the harms of these rays and developed safer ways to utilize them for medical use. Methods we still use today. On the other side of town, others like Thomas Edison thought these newly discovered rays could cure the blind. Many patients who were experimented upon starting showing terrible illnesses, one being his assistant who later had to have both arms amputated. Edison was quoted in an interview saying, “Don’t talk to me about X-rays…I am afraid of them.”

Nikola Tesla would later give all credit to Röntgen for the discovery, and throughout the next few years, produced some of the best X-ray imaging that even Röntgen praised. In a letter to Tesla, Röntgen wrote, “Dear Sir! You have surprised me tremendously with the beautiful photographs of wonderful discharges, and I tell you thank you very much for that. If only I knew how you make such things!”

#nikola tesla #science #history #x ray #X-rays #technology #invention #medical #electricity #quotes #ahead of his time #ahead of our time