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lovelybluebirdie · 4 months

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Something to care for

Astarion x f!Reader

Summary: Astarion seeks comfort when he is terrified of losing you to his former master.

Word Count: 2,1k

hurt/comfort, angst and fluff

[ AO3 ]

Fleeting glances across the tavern, jovial laughter followed by a touch to his arm, and Astarion has exactly what he needs. Your trust builds fast over his charming words, so you agree to accompany him to the mansion without doubting his intentions.

Astarion dissociates, follows his usual routine as he has done for over hundreds of years by now, while you remain blissfully unaware that you are already caught in his trap.

The scene feels painfully familiar, and yet it doesn't at all.

Uneasiness spreads over him.

No, this doesn't seem right.

Why are you here?

The next moment you lie on his old master’s bed, your eyes closed and shallow breaths emitting your lungs. A dark silhouette is bending over you, its mouth glued to your neck.

Cazador.

Panic creeps down Astarion's spine.

No, this isn't right at all.

His thoughts start to race. He needs to free you from this monster's claws - now.

Cazador looks up as his lips form a hideous grin, blood running from his chin and spluttering on your motionless body.

“A very pleasant bouquet you have brought to me, boy. But you know of that already, do you not?”

Astarion freezes.

The malice in his voice shatters his ribs with the blow of an axe.

He wants to scream, to get you away from here, but his body doesn’t respond.

Suddenly the whole scene shifts and Astarion finds himself with his fangs buried deep inside your neck, warm liquid pouring in his mouth while your hand rests loosely on his nape.

An unbearable dread rises in him.

He desperately tries to tear himself away, to stop feeding on you, but an invisible force holds him down, leaving it impossible to let go.

He must be going mad.

“You sought out to drink from thinking creatures, did you not? Go on then, lavish yourself on her blood! Bleed her dry.”

Cazador’s command unleashes like a fist to his skull.

Astarion knows that he is enjoying this, and it makes him sick.

He concentrates back on you, frantically looking for a way to get you out of this.

“It's alright, Astarion…” you whisper. “I know this isn’t… you.” You seem on the verge of fainting, the hand that rested in his hair slipping, your pulse weakening.

The fondness in your words almost breaks him.

He wishes to plead, to offer himself - to give Cazador everything he demands, if only he would allow you to leave unharmed, but he can’t speak.

Instead, he feels Cazador’s violent grip push him down, ramming his teeth deeper in your neck.

Astarion’s eyes wet and his body trembles while he’s obliged to swallow more of your blood. The thick liquid spills over his lips onto your neck, drips to your hair and paints the collar of your blouse.

Astarion knows that he’s hurting you, killing you, yet he has no control over his own doing. He can't stop, even if his whole body longs for nothing more than to release you.

His senses start to dull, colourful dots exploding before his eyes, while he’s unable to form a single coherent thought anymore, entirely helpless to this monstrosity he inflicts on you.

“What’s the matter, boy?” his former master taunts with a malignant chuckle and positions himself so that Astarion has to look at him. “Isn’t this what you craved? To be free of me, to do as you please?"

His laugh evolves to a gruesome crescendo, echoing through the dreary halls that Astarion once called his home - mocking him, a punishment for his disobedience.

Astarion summons his remaining strength to banish Cazador from his mind and fixates back on you.

He must save you, now, otherwise you will -

Astarion's lungs are on fire. His fangs ache, and his chest is bursting.

He grasps his throat and chokes as he remembers the taste of your blood in his mouth.

Gods, what has he done to you?

He takes a moment to perceive his surroundings.

This is not Cazador’s mansion, he realises, but your shared tent in the camp you made near Rivington.

The essence of his nightmare returns with agony: his fangs piercing your neck, Cazador’s order to bleed you dry, while you were completely defenceless against his torment. The image is almost too much to bear.

With haste, he begins to fumble the woollen fabric of his bedroll in search of your warm body. He has to ensure that you are alive - that he didn’t hurt you.

Then his hand finds your wrist and he stops in his motion. He pushes the fright that shrouds him aside and feels for your pulse, careful not to wake you. There it is - a constant throb at his fingertips.

Despite the evidence that the violent scene was nothing more than a figment of his imagination, he can’t bring himself to fully accept that there wasn’t an actual threat - that you are safe. Yet he has no desire to worry you with his musings, so he starts to slowly pull his hand away, before he notices that it’s already too late. You sit up beside him, rubbing sleep from your tired eyes.

You look so adorable that his chest grows tight.

“Astarion? Are you alright?” Your brow furrows when your gaze meets his, concern lingers in your voice.

Astarion opens his mouth, only to press it shut again as he feels hot tears forming in his eyes. He swallows hard. He wants to reassure you that it’s nothing, to tell you that you should go back to sleep, but the ferocity he committed in his nightmare robs him of any speech.

You give him an understanding expression and lift your blanket. “Do you want to come over here?”

He nods and shifts towards you.

You wrap your arms around him and pull him into a tight embrace. Astarion sinks his head onto your chest and listens carefully to your heartbeat - to make sure you are truly unscathed. That he didn't kill you, didn't bleed you dry - that he has not become like Cazador.

The pulsing sound flows in a soothing rhythm.

He closes his eyes and inhales your familiar scent. The weight that is crushing his lungs slowly begins to dissolve.

You are so warm, he thinks, so comforting, always so affectionate.

“It’s alright,” you breathe and rest your lips at his temple. “He can’t hurt you now.”

There is no need to ask how you know what haunts him, you simply do, and Astarion buries his face deeper in your chest, grasps the fabric of your tunic and lets out a deep sigh. A few silent tears he has tried to hold back spill from his eyes, dampening your clothes.

Your hands draw circles on the small of his back, up to his shoulder blades, until they move to his hair and tenderly stroke along his ears.

He concentrates on your touch. You are here, with him, unharmed - he didn’t hurt you.

A calmness enfolds and for the first time since he woke he allows himself to relax.

Astarion suddenly wonders if he ever had something like a home, a real home, somewhere he felt safe - not Cazador’s mansion, the place from his nightmare, where he endured nothing but torture and cruelty.

Something he could choose for himself - willingly. Not something he was forced to, but something he wanted.

For centuries he was used to the pain he suffered under Cazador’s rule, but you've proven how different his life can be. Through the time he spends with you, he's learned that he is valued as a person. You make him feel seen - show him compassion and patience, despite him missing the words at times.

You give him honest, loving affection, without any vile intent or in expectation of getting something in return.

You are the only one who is like that. Who genuinely cares for him, who loves him. No one was ever kind to him, only you. No one has a heart like that.

Maybe a home isn’t a place, he thinks, but a person.

He feels your fingers twisting gently around his curls, while he listens to the sound of your beating heart, and wishes to never let go of you.

But there is still Cazador and the Rite of Profane Ascension to overcome, and his mansion is barely a tenday away from now.

Astarion wants to shove the thought aside, but knows he can’t. Not when there is so much at stake - when you give him so much to care for.

He envisions the ancient ritual Cazador has planned.

If he was to complete the rite himself, would he become even more powerful than his old master? Would this newfound power offer you protection - keep both of you safe?

But what if you came to harm once you entered his residence? Hells, what if it would be his fault?

The fear of losing you clings its relentless hooks back to his core.

Astarion sinks deeper into your arms and sighs.

No. He cannot lose you - not to the Absolute, not to Cazador or any other madness you have to encounter along your way.

His shoulders tense, leading you to squeeze them fondly.

“He won’t win, Astarion,'' you vow with the determination that Astarion knows too well by now. “We will beat him.”

At first he wants to scold you, point out how naive you were to think it would be an easy task to confront his past tormentor, but instead he pauses to consider.

He remembers the foes you've come across on your journey. There have been gruesome, vigorous creatures among them, and yet you were able to vanquish them in the end.

Have you gathered enough strength to destroy a powerful enemy like Cazador, though?

For a second, Cazador’s liveless body appears in front of Astarion’s inner eye.

Maybe, there was a real chance…

After all, to ensure that both of you will be safe - truly safe - Cazador must be ended, one way or another.

“Is that so?” Astarion clears his throat and frowns. “Well, when you sound so resolute I find myself actually imagining us succeeding.”

Your features soften as you lean forward and put a kiss to his brow.

“I know we will,” you reply confidently. “Besides, for some reason I was declared the leader of our little group, so I'd suggest you better put some trust in my word.”

“I’m afraid being the leader of this group full of weirdos is hardly something to be proud of, love,” Astarion murmurs against your neck.

“That’s rich, coming from the weirdest of the bunch,” you tease as you tousle through his curls. “You’re a rogue who’s terrified of clowns - shall I go on?”

Astarion snorts at your remark. “I'm not terrified of them!” he protests with a pout. “It's just.. They make me uneasy, alright? And they're not original - or funny. Honestly, I’d rather witness a goblin mating ritual than any of those wretched clown shows again.”

He removes your hand from his hair to intertwine your fingers with his. Then he recalls the image of the clown you visited at the circus the other day and his face turns into a grimace.

“Keep telling yourself that, but I know for a fact that you were absolutely petrified the moment you saw Dribbles.”

“That wasn’t even a regular clown - that beast was also a shapeshifter!” Astarion exclaims in feigned bewilderment.

You raise an eyebrow and wait for a moment, leaving Astarion curious, until you pin him down to tickle him all over.

“Stop it, you cheeky thing!” Astarion presses between his laughs while he tries to shelter his most sensitive parts from your ruthless fingers.

When he eventually manages to roll on top of you and grab your wrists, you look at him lovingly and catch your breath. He feels the remaining knots in his chest come loose.

Then your face turns serious again. “I promise you, we will beat him.”

“Stubborn as ever,” Astarion states and clicks his tongue, before his lips curl up to a genuine smile. “But perhaps I’ll remind you of that promise when the time comes.”

“By all means, I hope you do,” you assure and return his smile, your thumb softly brushing his cheek.

You have a rare talent to relieve the tension, he notices. To make him feel light - to make him laugh even, a real, honest laugh, despite the horrors that linger on his mind of late.

Astarion kisses the tip of your nose and lifts from your chest, resting his body against your back and draws you in a close embrace. Then he buries his face in your hair and presses a kiss to your neck, relishing your pleasant warmth.

A sudden fire rises inside him.

The thought of facing Cazador remains scary, terrifying even, but somehow with you, he senses there is a viable chance to defeat him at last.

You give him something to care for, and he will do everything in his might to protect you - both of you, his home.

He won’t lose you, and he won’t lose this.

Masterlist

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diejager · 5 months

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God! I love dark price, please write a part of dark price and reader with his son (I want a mini price 😔) I think it would be a boy 😅 but I'll leave it up to you <3 have a good day, best writer on Tumblr <3

Cage Cw: forced pregnancy, forced relationship, MENTION OF NON-CON/DUB-CON, DARKFIC, tell me if I missed any.

“Mama! Mama!” Two, childlike voices called out to you, their tones light and jovial with a child’s innocence, untainted by the horrors of the world.

Rapid pads followed after their screams, running steps heading your way as you turned to look at the source, putting down the knife you used to cut the ripe and fresh carrot for supper. Two pairs of hands grabbed at your pants, wide, blue eyes staring up at you with joy and wonder in their pretty eyes, they begged for attention.

You loved them. You truly did. From the lingering fat on their three-year old cheeks, their round, doe eyes in a stormy, blue shade, their chubby limbs and fingers holding onto you to the soft locks in the shade of your hair. From the adorable behaviour, pliant and obedient, always eager to listen to you if it meant receiving praises and kisses from you, to the innocence in their being, untouched by the cruelty you’ve seen when you were still working. But everything about them reminded you of him, of their father, of your husband. Your boy and daughter were spitting images of their father, only with your shade of hair.

“What wrong?” You crouched to their height, thumb rubbing the blue ink off the fat of your daughter’s cheek with your clean hand, you’d left the both of them in the living room with a box of coloured pens and paper to draw with.

“Hungry, Mama,” Olivia moaned, clutching her shirt with an adorable pout, reaching for her brother for help to convey her hunger.

You cooed at her, picking the both of them up, bobbing them until they sat comfortably on each side of you, arms wrapped around your shoulder as they cried and moaned about being hungry, about their tumtums making sound. You put them on separate chairs, handing them a small cracker to eat while your finished making your soup. Olivia and Arthur - you precious twins - liked the bland crackers, wanting something to bite into while their teeth grew, to stop the itch and discomfort of growing teeth.

“Mama’s almost finished, it’ll be done once Dada’s home, okay?” Your kids were smart, they understood words that most wouldn’t at this age. You chalked it up to them having your husband’s genes, his smart and quick decisions made it nearly impossible to beat him in a battle of wits, you learned that the hard way.

As if summoned by your voice, you heard the lock click, announcing your husband’s return from work. Hearing their father open the door, Arthur and Olivia jumped off their seats and rushed to the door, smiling and giggling, overjoyed to see their father home after leaving early in the morning. He bent down to kiss them, bringing them into his chest and blowing kisses, a few dozen on their forehead, another dozen on each cheek and a few on their pink nose, small and adorable.

“Go on, give Ma and Pa a moment, yeah?” He smiled softly, petting them on the head before coaxing them away, wanting a moment to hold you on his own.

He pulled you towards him, hands grasping onto your hips, strong and unyielding in his hold. He pressed his lips to your cheek, slowly trailing down to your lips with a searing and possessive kiss, demanding your attention and whole being. He nipped at your lip, teeth biting on your lower lip until you let out a small whimper, audible to him and you alone, protecting your children from Price’s darker side.

“John,” you mumbled, panting when he pulled away, your lips swollen from his rough kiss.

When you tried to move back, you were stopped by his grip on your nap, unaware that his hand snaked up to hold you still, keeping your face near his. His stormy eyes brewed with a cyclone, a violent and powerful torrent of emotions that had you shudder in fear and apprehension. He was strung high, pulled tight on the edges, his nerves burned to its core without any relief for him to come back down. You knew you would have to help him relax, to surrender your body to his whims.

“Let’s… let’s just eat dinner and get the kids to bed first, all right?”

Taglist: @sae1kie @yeoldedumbslut @tallmanlover @distracteddragoness @vxnilla-hxrddrugs @konigsblog @havoc973 @im-making-an-effort @daisychainsinknots @0alk0msan @danielle143 @dont-mind-me-just-existing-sadly @tuttifuckinfruttifriday

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neonovember · 11 months

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Oh my GOD oh my for okay though that new fic you wrote with Carmy? 12/10 chefs kiss mwah mwah MWAH!! 💕💕💕 That part with Carmy going ballistic and beating the shit out of that asshole customer I LOVED it!! Now it’s got me thinking of Carmen going absolutely feral, just insane if he’s in the kitchen cooking and calling orders, while you’re out front taking orders from customers. He and the rest of the kitchen just go silent and stop in their tracks when they hear a guy just screaming at the top of his lungs at you, using the absolute most vile words against you and Carmen just sees red, especially if whoever it is ups and yells something along the lines of “You stupid fucking whore-“ and Carmen’s just a blur as he POUNCES on this guy. (Richie’s either cheering him on or trying with all his strength to claw Carmen off before he straight up kills the guy)

Office Doors

Oooh you guys are spoiling me rotten with these requests…I love a good feral fic every once in a while and this one was..well you'll know what i'm talking about once you've read it ;) I haven't written Carmen in a day and I miss him already, school has been up my ass so if you have sent me a request, don't worry it's being written, and re-written and-. Thank you anon for getting my gears going and your lovely messages 🥰🥺 ur support means the world

warnings: swearing, objectification and misogyny, angst, oral (f recieving), smut, thigh riding (?), porn with plot, feral!carmen

carmen berzatto x reader!

(This is totally and completely canon btw)

You stretch your body across the diner tables, dipping a dirty cloth into lukewarm soapy water before rinsing it out. The lunch rush had just slowed to a even pace, the sound of Carmen yelling out dishes from his line finally quieting down.

You have just a little time to spare, and you spent that time quickly wiping down the Beef’s tables that had begun to accumulate a few too many stains and unfinished crumbs of bread.

You had grown up in a home that was always messy, all the time. And no matter how much times you had asked, and no matter how much times you had just done the chores themselves, the clutter of dirty dishes and old wet clothes in the laundry had permanently been embedded into your family home.

It’s partially why you had loved the sterile laboratory of you culinary kitchens. Clutter caused your skin to itch with anxiety, it made you feel dirty, and with the way you scrub the diner tables a little too hard you wonder if it's another one of the many joy’s your family had given you.

And whilst the Beef was so different from your environment back in culinary school, it wasn’t necessarily worse. In fact, you had grown to fall in love with the quirks of the kitchen, the ‘fuck you carmen’ napkin holder, the too small walkway, the framed pictures of beloved regulars and the staff’s families. Most of all, however, was the family you had built here, the kind you couldn't find working under a domineering CDC.

The kind that had always been waiting for you, been planted deep into the earth like roots.

Besides, you and Carmen had bonded together during the late nights after most of the family had gone home. Were you both were left, scrubbing the floor together in a rhythmic silence that seemed to be more therapeutic than work.

You’ve nearly finished wiping down the last of the stools perched against the counter top of the front when a loud guffawing causes you to break your trance-like state.

Jovial yelling breaks into the rarely quiet restaurant as the door swings open, and a stream of rowdy men dressed in pullovers and fleece jackets, with scarves and basketball hats of distinct sport team colours wrapped around their necks.

One man is fully decked out, sporting the jersey and beanie of what seemed to be a hockey team. The boom of his voice indicates he was the loudest too, unaware of the grumble of patrons around the restaurant that had grown annoyed at the man's violent rambling.

You breath out a sigh, finishing off wiping down the bar stools and putting the bucket of dirty water under the front counter. Before ironing out any creases in your apron and preparing yourself for the absolute headache this would cause.

They were a familiar bunch, usually coming in after games late after the dinner rush. It seemed there was a game during the early morning, as they grumble about not having anything to eat the entire day.

Their loud and annoying and swear too much and Carmen hates the way one of them looks at you but they order a shit ton of food and fuck if the bear needs money, what can you say.

Your eyes glance at a cup of coffee Richie had accidently left under the register, and you suddenly crave your afternoon pick me up well after the afternoon. The men begin walking up to the register, ignoring your polite greeting and going straight into listing off items from the menu as if you were a machine. You nod along all the words they were saying, and soon enough you give up on writing it down as they’ve practically ordered the entire menu safe for a few appetiser's.

“Make it quick, yeah? We’re bloody starving '' One of the men calls out from his seated position in one of the booths and you give them a tight lipped smile, resisting the urge to throw that coffee mug at him.

Carmen peeks his head from the entryway leading to the kitchen, his unruly ashy blonde curls falling to the sides as he shares a look with you, as if to say ‘you alright? And you nod in that unspoken way the two of you have and tell him that you can handle it. Working in a kitchen didn't have to teach you how to deal with assholes, you had your family to thank for that one again.

You hear the familiar sound of Carmen shouting out orders, and the sizzle of pans and boiling pots increase in order to push out the lengthy order before more foot traffic would pour in.

You’re trying to fix the register when it happens, something gets caught in the old janky machine, causing the cash drawer to get stuck as you have to hit its sides at a certain angle to get it to open up again. Years and Carmen refuses to get it fixed, or buy a new one all together, resorting to having it taped up and banged every couple hours to get it working again.

You almost don’t see him, until he is leaning against the counter, into the space between the cash register and you, a greasy smile pulling at his features and he watches you. You bite back a grimace at the way his eyes trail down your apron, fixated on the dip of skin that peeks from the top of your shirt.

“Something you need Sir?” You ask politely, taking a tentative step back, your hand gripping the edge of the counter.

The man smiles strangely at your comment, cocking his head to the side before replying suggestively

“I definitely want something”

You cough, biting back your knee-jerk response to hurl at him, you can feel the burn of embarrassment against your cheeks and you swallow as you try to reply with a steady response.

“You’re food will be out in a short-while-”

“You know, I think I’ve seen you around here, are you new to town?” The man tries to strike up a conversation

“Came here a few years ago and haven’t left since” You reply with a tight smile

“Ah! I know where you're from exactly now” The man replies with a grin that pulls his face upwards, it's eerie, his smile, like he knows something he shouldn't.

“There’s this porn star online, looks exactly like you, it’s kind of insane” The man replies with a smile that deepens as you stammer

You feel humiliated as you stare back at him, you don’t know what to say, and his eyes continue trailing down your body in a way that makes you feel disgustingly objectified. He’s reduced you to an object for him to gawk at, and you see the way the men behind him jeer and laugh that this is all a play to intimidate you.

You want to run straight home and scrub yourself clean, wash away the feeling of his imprinted gaze down the drain.

“You think we can recreate one of her videos when you get off work here?” The man replies, a glint in his eyes.

“What? You- you” You stammer and he breaks out into a laugh

“Awh, look at her, fucking shaking. Don’t tell me this is your first time?” The man eggs on to his friends, who have begun laughing and cheering him on.

You grit your teeth, trying to get the words out as you glance towards the kitchen, where was he? He leg twitches in want, wanting to get Carmen, wanting to run from the restaurants, wanting to run from the embarrassment and disgust you felt.

The flashes of Richie and Syd passing by is all you can see, the booming voice of Carmen being too wrapped up in the orders to notice what was happening.

“C'mon, just give me your number” The man presses on, leaning in so that only you can hear “It isn't like I don't know where you work” Before he leans back, muttering a halfhearted kidding under his breath

“You are disgusting” You spit out, trying to sound as confident as you can, and the mans eyebrow twitches, and he cocks his head like he was confused.

“What? I’m doing you a favour here, I'm actually a nice guy you know? Not one of those assholes on the street” The man scoffs, moving closer towards you and you have a feeling the man is waiting for a reason to lunge at you.

“Just, just take your food and your buddies and go alright? There doesn’t have to be a fight or-or” You continue, trying to de-escalate the situation and get him to just leave you the fuck alone.

“Are you fucking kidding me? I’m doing you a fucking favour and now your kicking me out?” The man begins to get heated, and his friends behind him watch on in silence, you can notice other customers begin to look your way, sensing the rising anger filling the room. You slowly step back, looking for something to shield yourself in case he comes at you.

“What, you think because you work you have some- some what, control? I don't think you know how this works doll, you give me your number, and I dump my load in you because your nothing but a stupid fucking whore” The man bellow, it’s so loud that it echoes through the Beef, that it reaches even the kitchen sinks where Manny is washing up.

The man’s face grows red as the veins near his neck begin to pop out, he emphasises the last word, spitting it out like that was all you were.

The restaurant goes silent as the man heaves in exertion, the sound of Carmen shooting out orders is mute now, the slice of steel against bamboo stops, and the bear is fucking quite for the first time since it opened.

Your body is pushed against the wall, near the swinging doors into the Kitchen, and you can see Carmen back to you, he has stopped cutting at his station, and the outline of muscle contracts under his white shirt.

Carmen turns, slowly, he turns to the family, as they all momentarily stop their tasks in shock at what they had just heard. He begins to chuckle a little to himself, as he replies in a quiet voice you and the man can still hear.

“What did he just say?”

“Did he really say that? Did he really?” Carmen laughs to himself, nodding and gripping his hands into tight fists as the restaurant air gets thin. The man who had been screaming at you looks towards Carmen in confused fear, not knowing why this man was laughing and yet understanding he had completely fucked up.

The rest of the patrons can hear Carmen’s words, eyes widening, as they realise they were about to be collateral to a very one sided beat down. The crew looked at Carmen in silence, they had been used to Carmen's hot-headed temper, his bursts of anger that was more passion than rage. But this? This quiet silence of Carmen’s words, the way his chest heaves as you glances at your frightened position against the wall? They genuinely feared what he would do next, a silent rage like no other begins to envelop the restaurant, the air thin and suffocating as Carmen begins to walk through the kitchen and into the front counter.

“Don’t call an ambulance this time” Carmen mutters to Richie as he passes him by, Carmen’s eyes are fixed on you, trailing down your body before fixating on the shake of your hands. Carmen knows you well, and it’s the clench of your throat, like you're suffocating, like you can’t breath that snaps something in Carmen.

A malevolence Carmen has never felt spills into his gut, the burn of anger spreading against his chest until hes practically shaking with it, he is filled with this heart ache, like his heart is split in two and gushing as he realises his been cutting fucking chives whilst you nearly died.

And something predatory fills Carmen, like he must prove to himself he can protect you, and in one swift move, like muscle memory etched into his bones, Carmen jumps over the front counter and swings his fist in one clean motion, knocking the man across the room.

The man’s body crumbles as he slams into the hardwood floor of the Beef, the immediate groan of twisted pain and pleads leave the man's mouth and Carmen is just so sick of his goddamn voice.

It all went quiet then, the noise of Sydney yelling, of his friends, of the man’s heaving wet coughs, the air conditioner, all white noise. Carmen’s hand reaches for his ankle, dragging him back from his crawling escape.

“Oh, no no no, we’re not escaping now are we?” Carmen grunts, his voice lower than it usually is.

Carmen wraps an arm around his throat, holding him there as he brings down his fist across his face. The wet sound of bones crunching into muscle and skin go on forever, bouncing across the room until the throaty heave of the man is all that is left of him. Carmen cannot stop the swing of his fists, something possesses him and as one of the men in hockey colours tries to grab Carmen arm he throws him back into the stack of barstool's piled near the tables. He is facing his back to you again, and you state, fixated on how his body moves to support him, the contracts and outline of his strong back, his large forearms that break bone with a mere swing.

His face swollen beyond recognition, piss and blood leaking from him, eyes bloodshot and awry.

Carmen picks him up by his collar, the smudge of blood dripping down and staining his vest, whispering into his ear as the man’s eyes widen in harrowed fear.

“Apologise”

“..Whatnhn?” The man mumbles, the feel of his tongue swelling up and going numb, Carmen presses a hand against the man's bruised stomach, pushing against the broken bone of his ribs until the Man wails in agony.

“Apologise to her or I swear to god I’m breaking your fucking legs”

The man spits out an apology, but you’re not looking at him, staring transfixed at Carmen, at the way he’s golden curls fall across his eyebrows, at the way his muscles flex against his white shirt, at the way droplets of blood are splattered across the skin of his jaw. Carmen looks towards you, and something dark takes over his cerulean blues, blowing them out.

“Do you accept? Huh honey?”

You nod, letting an exhale out and Carmen tosses the man to a pile on the floor, reaching for your hand and dragging you to the office, you can hear the scatter of shoes as the men drag their friend out of the beef, and the crew looks towards each other in satisfaction, but also in knowing, in knowing they wouldn't dare open those office doors.

The soft glow of the office is a stark difference to the bright light of the front counter, and you have to blink a couple times for your eyes to adjust, and when you do Carmen’s face is inches from you, leaning you against the office doors, his arm above your head.

“You didn't- didn’t have to” You mumble, your voice caught in your throat for a different reason.

Carmen looks down at you, shaking his head in amusement

“Don’t lie to me, you enjoyed that more than I did” Carmen whispers, leaning down near your ear, pressing his nose against the curve of your neck.

You let out a breathless sigh, and Carmen groans as he smells that familiar vanilla always hinted on your skin Carmen could smell when you passed by you. Now, now, he can practically taste it right on his tongue.

The truth was, you did enjoy it, despite being non confrontational and cringing every time Richie would show you a fight where the crunch of bone on gravel makes you shudder, you were transfixed by Carmen.

By the way he broke the man to a heaving mess with just his fuckinf fists, those same arms that are edging closer and closer to you, how would they feel between your thighs? The thought wraps itself tight in your belly, and you have to squeeze your thighs for friction.

No one had done that to you, no one had done that for you, and in a strange way it felt nice to be protected. To be wanted, and it causes a need to start building deep within you.

Carmen's eyes fall to you, and his eyebrow twitches as a look of guilt washes over his features.

“I should’ve been there, I- fuck, did he do anything? Let me get a look at you” Carmen replies softly, grabbing your wrists to look for any bruises he feared you had.

“I’m fine, just a little, uhm, shaken up you know? Said some pretty horrible things” You reply, scratching at your neck as your mind replays the way he had reduced you to a thing.

Carmen shakes his head, his teeth grinding as he grips his fists, his biceps flexing.

“You shouldn’t have to deal with that, deal with people like fucking him, I swear to god if I find him on the street I’m gonna-“

“Gonna what? Finish off the job? There is always going to be guys like him, that isn’t going to change, and it’s something I have to deal with. But what I can’t deal with is if you get yourself thrown into a jail cell because of-of me” You reply, shaking your head and Carmen looks at you like he’s in love.

Gripping a hand to your chin, Carmen raises it so that you catch the burn of his cerulean blues as you can see.

“And That would be an honourable death for me” Carmen mutters, and you can’t take your eyes off him, until you're gripping his blood stain shirt tight against your chest until the suppression groans leaving his mouth are kissed into your neck.

You want him, want to taste him on your tongue, want to feel his weight against it.

“Fuckin come here” Carmen groans out, reaching to wrap his hand around your jaw as he presses his lips against your own. The muffled of your moans escape your lips and Carmen slips his tongue between them.

His pillowy soft lips wrap around your own, his nose bumping into your cheek as he wraps an arm around your back, pushing you against the office doors. It’s all teeth and tongue, the clash of teeth and muffled groans leaving the both of you.

The suppression of both your desires falling between you two until you don’t stop to come up for air.

It’s addicting the way he kisses you, and you have to grip his shoulder as an anchor as he begins to trail his lips down your neck, sucking and nibbling at the skin there before dipping down to your clavicle.

You let out a moan as he blows cold air against the dip of your breasts, and Carmen looks down at you, his eyes heavy as he watches the way you shiver, waiting for him to give you what you want.

Carmen rips open your shirt, his eyes trailing across the curve and dip of your breasts, he mutters something under his breath, something like “beautiful” as his finger trailing the lace before unclipping it and tossing it behind him.

Carmen cups one of your breasts, circling your nipple before wrapping his lips around it and sucking, you arch your back to him, and he follows it until he rests and your hip, squeezing the skin there as his eyes roll back at the taste of you.

“Please..” You groan out, your eyes watching the way Carmen pressing soft circles into your skin, he looks up at you in confusion, the hint of a smile curving at his lips.

“Please what?” Carmen replies, sucking bruises beneath your tits, drawing it out on purpose, having too much fun watching you suffer.

“Nmfha” You mumble incoherently when Carmen flicks his tongue around your nipple, whilst squeezing the other in his cold hands.

“I can’t hear you, what do you want?” Carmen replies with a hint of a moan, he’s having trouble himself, bucking his hips up into you as he watches the way you shake from his lips

“Wanna feel you Carm, wanna taste you” You groan out with a moan, Carmen grunts at your response, his eyes growing dark and heavy, and in one swift move, he hoist you up and swipes the coffee mugs and papers left scattered across his desk before placing you on the edge.

You spread your thighs, making room for him and he steps between them.

“You wanna feel me sweet girl? You want me to take care of you? Please let me take care of you” Carmen pleads, rutting up against you as he tries to suppress the want pressing tight against his jeans.

“Carm” you groan out as Carmen tugs your jeans down leaving you in your lace underwear that Carmen grinds his jaw at, you don’t realise it but Carmen blue apron is discarded somewhere in the room, and as he carries you towards the coach you tug at his white shirt.

He rips it off him in one move, and you drag your fingers across the deep of defined muscle that flexes under your touch.

Carmen moves your thighs so that you're pushed towards the edge of the couch, and he kneels between you, pressing a soft kiss to your knee, before trailing up your thighs. Carmen had been teasing you before but now there is a frantic eagerness in the way he touches you, like if he doesn’t taste you on his tongue he might combust.

Carmen hooks a finger into your underwear,pulling them down until you were bare for him. Carmen’s eyes glisten as he states at you, naked under him and sweating. God the image imprints in his mind and he wishes he can stay here forever.

Carmen presses a soft kiss to the inside of your thigh, and your thighs shake in need, Carmen flicks his eyes up to you, and keeps eye contact, as he licks one long strip across your folds, closing his eyes and he groans at the taste of you. You contort you back at the pleasure the waves through you, eyes rolling back at the pressure of his tongue sucking your clit.

“Fucking- taste so” Carmen mumbles, before dipping his tongue between your folds, dragging it up and down, the sound of your heightened moans ripping through him.

Dipping his tongue in your hole, Carmen pushes a finger between your thighs, presses soft circles around your clit as his tongue works your folds. Your thighs shake around the curls of his head and he pushes a hand down at your stomach to stop you from moving, making you take every wave of pleasure he pulls from you.

“Carm, please, they’re going to hear us” You groan out, and Carmen shakes his head, causing his tongue to drive deeper into you, before looking up at you,

“Let them”

Carmen stretches you out with his tongue, pushing it into you and out until your heaving, his thumb is pressed against your clit, and he pushes a finger into you before sucking onto your bud.

You begin to see flashes of stars, as he thrusts a finger into your hole whilst sucking you, he scissors you open, curving his finger in a way that hits a particular spot that has you raising your hips, trying to pull yourself off of him, the white hot burn of pleasure getting too much.

“There baby? Right there?” Carmen groans out, thrusting his finger to hit that spot over and over

Carmen grips your hips, pushing you down, deeper, harder onto his mouth and fingers, pressing a second digit into you as he curves it to pull that sweet moan from your lips.

Carmen had many names, but his favourite was the broken syllabus of his own between your lips when you fell apart on his tongue.

“S’ close, so close Carmy, please” You babble out, before resigning yourself to the burn of pleasure the feels like fucking nirvana, it’s all around you, Carmen, this pleasure, it’s all you can taste.

“I know baby, I know, I’m going to take care of you okay, sweet girl?” Carmen groans, thrusting his hips into the floor, searching for friction as he watches the way your eyes roll back.

Carmen laps at your core, pushing the digits deeper, curving them upwards until you were screaming, he pushes your face down to look at him, he wants to see your face as you fall apart, and the coil that has begun to wrap itself tight snaps when he nibbles at your over sensitive clit and you see the way his dark eyes watch you, his eyebrows furrowed and your slick coats his chin.

You can’t feel anything but the white hot pleasure that rocks through you, you aren’t in your body, floating away in the pure saccharine pleasure of Carmen’s tongue and he laps at the pleasure dripping between your folds.

You mumble incoherent words, the only thing leaving your lips is Carmen’s name as you babble, spit dripping from your open mouth as you're left in a heap, Carmen leaving you dumb.

Carmen works you through your release, licking and sucking at your sweet slick that he gathers on his tongue. You see the way he thrusts into the carpet, trying to find friction as the scene in front of him becomes too much.

The thought splits something within you, seeing how Carmen got off to getting you off was out of this world, causing the pleasure to start building in your core again.

You drag Carmen up to meet your lips, and then push his tongue between your lips, causing you to taste him on your tongue. Carmen pushes his finger between his lips, sucking on the shine of slick coated there, his eyes heavy as he watches the way you grind your hips against him.

He pushes his digits into your mouth, groaning at the way you suck on them eagerly. You push him to lean his back against the coach, before manoeuvring your hips to straddle him.

You rock your hips against his jeans, feeling the way the indent pushes and bumps against your core, Carmen throws his head back, his curls falling over his forehead and he grabs your hips, pushing you deeper, down down down until he is thrusting up into you.

You grip his shoulders raising your hips before pulling his jeans and boxers down in one swift motion. Carmen forces himself to look down at you, his gaze watching the way you tug at his length, swiping a thumb across the red tip, dragging pre cum down the thick girth of him.

Carmen groans out, gripping your hips tight, and you raise up, lining yourself perfectly before sinking down on him.

Carmen’s groans are beautiful, rumbling from his chests as he squeezes his eyes shut, you fit so perfectly around him, the heat and warmth and slick of you wrapped tight around his cock. His length is thick and girth, and you have to adjust to his size, moaning at the way he fills you up just right.

As you begin to move, Carmen presses a hand, begging for you to wait

“Just, one second, fuck you feel so good I might cum from one thrust”

“Who says this is a one time thing?” You reply with a wicked smile, and Carmen groans loud at that.

You raise your hips, dragging your self on him before sliding down, your grind against him and he heaves in the pleasure of your tightness around him.

It had been so long, and the feeling of you is almost too much.

You struggle to raise your hips high enough, and Carmen wraps his hands tight around your hips before raising you himself, driving himself up into you and thrusting hard.

This new angle allows him to go deeper, and you meet his upward thrusts, groaning out as he fucks you dumb. You look gorgeous above him, the way your tits bounce with every thrust up has him hard all over again.

“Just like that baby girl, keep going, doing so fucking well, my baby” Carmen groans out, and you begin to shake at the combination of his praise the the feeling of his cock driving into you impossibly deep.

You want to make him feel good and you say this to him, causing his eyes to roll back when you squeeze yourself around him, hard, until his thrusts have to drive into you even harder.

The coach freaks loudly from Carmen’s pace, and he slams you down, positioning his cock deep into you, causing you to press half circles into your shoulder, scratching at his biceps and gripping the nape of his hair that causes him to rumble out your moaned name.

You can feel him getting close, his thrust growing sloppy and deep, you tighten around him, and his eyes are in a trance, watching the way you fit around him so perfectly.

Carmen moves to fold himself upright against you, and your eyes roll back to your head as you feel yourself climb up a familiar peak.

Carmen presses a hard kiss against your lips as you groan out, and as he slips a hand into your conjoined bodies, circling your clit you have to shove your fist into your hand to stop from screaming.

The feel of Carmen’s length driving into you and the sound of his ragged moans, mixed with the over stimulation against your clit, you can’t help but fall apart around his cock.

You squeeze yourself tight around Carmen, and he cries out, his thrusts growing slow as he joins you over the cliff, his cock thrusting up into you with spasms. His cheeks are a blush red, his tongue poking out as he follows both of your orgasms.

You fall against his chest, exhausted, pressing your cheek so that it rested against the hard muscle of his pecs. You swallow back a breath, gripping your hand around Carmen’s, as he brings it up to place a soft kiss.

Your thighs are still shaking from stimulation, and Carmen caresses a hand across them, rubbing soft circles and you lay across his chest.

You stay like this for a moment, basking in the bliss of pleasure and sex and the soft curves and dips of your bodies.

After a bit, Carmen has to slip his out cock from your thighs, eyes fixated on the way your ecstasy mixed with his one drips down your thighs.

“Fucking gorgeous” Carmen replies, and you look up at him in surprise

“What? You don’t think I'll find you gorgeous after this?” Carmen smiles down at your flustered state, he brushes back the sweat and tears dripping down your cheeks.

“That was..you are. Well fuck, Carmen, why didn’t this happen sooner?” You reply, he manoeuvres you so that your legs lay across his thighs.

“Yeah, uh, we’ll I’ve got a whole bucket of shit you don’t want dragging you down” Carmen replies scratching his neck, suddenly more shy as he lay his heart bare to you.

“Yeah, we’ll you gave me no choice when you practically murdered that man” You reply, biting back a smile, as you press soft circles around his thumb.

“Should’ve fucking murdered him…”

“What happens now?” Carmen replies, looking at you nervous that this was you just scratching an itch, because he was head over heels in love with you and he would never recover

“God Carmen, you didn’t realise I’m in love with you already?” You reply with a smile, “Practically the entire restaurant does”

Carmen looks up at you in wonder, his eyebrows furrowing as your words hit him hard. You loved him? You loved him. He wants you to repeat it a hundred times, he wants to hear your tongue say those words to him again.

“You are incomparable” Carmen mutters under his breath, before wrapping you tight against his chest, pressing a kiss that feels different now, less crazed and rushed and fueled by heated passion. It was new, it felt like a start of something.

“You think they’re okay out there?” You reply with a start.

“Hell no” Carmen replies, and you can’t help but laugh as you push your head through a shirt Carmen had passed to you.

You and Carm may have just confessed your love to one another, but you still had a goddamn restaurant to run.

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sweet-as-an-angel · 1 year

Text

Ghost & König’s Reaction to You in a Maid Outfit

Warnings: 18+ (just to be safe), Implied Sexual Content, Rough Ghost & König, Dominant Ghost & König, Lashing (with a Belt), Restraining, Victim Blaming (Kind Of), Petnames, König is Basically Feral™, Implied Oral, Threats, No Pronouns used for Reader except ‘You’.

Ghost

Comes up behind you when you’re idling with something and straight-up just sticks his hand up your skirt.

He pulls you to his chest when you jump, squeal, taking advantage of your flailing to hook the band of your underwear and pull them down your thighs.

Confused, you’re given no time to react before Ghost has your hands pinned behind your back, held in place with handcuffs of bone, flesh and pure muscle as he shunts you against the countertop, something protruding – intruding – hard against your exposed centre as he presses himself tightly against you.

Your cheek pressed against the cold surface, you barely see or hear Ghost between your startled breaths, feeling only a shadow come over you as he leans down to your ear, his free hand slithering from your back to your face, where he slips a lock of hair from your vision.

“Did’ya really think you could get away with wearing this,” he said, low, dangerous, his hand coming to grip the hem of your skirt.

“Without consequences ?”

You can feel his hand on your thigh now, gripping the skin hard enough to leave a pale imprint of his lust. Fingers slithering up the expanse of your leg, resting just beneath where you’ll be screaming for him to have mercy half an hour from now.

It doesn’t matter what you do or say now – not that you can or will be able to do much of either with your arms bound and Ghost occupying your mouth with a meat delicacy you can’t buy over a counter (despite that being where you are now, ironically) in about ten minutes’ time..

“The time for apologies is over, Darling,” he tells you. You wince when you hear his belt hissing as he slides it from his jeans, the material crinkling in his grip as if the creature it hailed from was still alive.

And he cracks it. Once. Twice. Against your bare thighs, making you cry out, your stockings having withered under Ghost’s harsh stare.

“All you can do now is repent.”

König

Lures you into a false sense of security with low, soft praises of “How beautiful you look, Engel !” And “Won’t you come closer so I can have a better look at you ?”

By the time you may suspect something in König’s tone is unusually jovial, it’s too late.

You missed the feral glint in his eye, the shattering grip he had on his wine glass, discarded as he turns his attention to you now.

Before you can even wonder what it is he’s thinking, you’re slammed onto the sofa, König sinking down on top of you, his hands steel around your wrists as he holds them beside your head.

And now, you see it.

All at once, and entirely too late.

A predatory possession of all that was your kind, mild-mannered, sensitive König, replaced with a shadowed imitation, blackened by an almost supernatural depth of desire none but he could execute to its fullest potential.

And it shows in how his breathing is ragged despite you posing no real physical test to his strength. Rather, there’s something within trying to break free. And it has you in its sights.

Leaning down, König takes the skin of your neck between his teeth, biting it, sucking it, leaving a path of destruction in his wake as your skin reddens. There will be bruises soon.

Not that König will be letting anyone else see them. You’ll be lucky if you’re able to even leave the bedroom, nevermind the house.

That much is apparent to you in how König growls when you move, try to slip your constricted wrists into some position of comfort, making him clamp down on top of you, his thighs gripping your sides, your ribcage a shell in his vice.

“Don’t try anything cute, Engel,” König husks, voice deep and feral. His pupils are pinpricks, unhinged in a most biological manner. And his teeth seem sharper now. Somehow.

“Or I may be forced to try something unorthodox with you.”

The bulge between his legs, one which he presses to the sensitive spot between yours, tells you he’s deadly serious. If his killing smile wasn’t enough.

Reblog for more content like this! It helps creators like myself tremendously and it is greatly appreciated :-)

Masterlist Masterlist [Continued] Masterpost Modern Warfare AI Masterlist

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trashogram · 25 days

Text

He Chose You (Pt. 10)

Lucifer/Reader: Lucifer chooses you to be the mother of his child. Rated E for Explicit.

Everything was white. Pristine white.

You couldn’t be blind, but no one would blame you for entertaining the idea as nothing but white stretched beyond your gaze.

Unending white.

Uncanny. White.

“Hello?” You asked the white abyss. Your call echoed out and back in, the way you imagined sound would echo in a canyon.

“Hello!”

You screamed, jumping up at the new voice coming from somewhere high above you. You tried to pinpoint where it came from, staring up at what you hoped was the sky before things slowly materialized.

Pastel pinks, oranges and soft blues bled into the white, adding definition to what had once been literally nothing. The whiteness remained in the shape of buoyant, fluffy clouds pillowing all around you.

“Over here!” The voice chimed. “Oh no, here! You’re getting warmer! Almost there!”

After circling around like a dog after your own tail, you finally found the source. Behind you rose a ginormous golden gate, gleaming beneath an electric-looking, all-seeing eye.

And at its entrance towered a gold and platinum podium.

A very… well, there was no other way to say it — a very white man with swooping blond hair eyed you from the top of the podium, grinning from ear to ear.

“Hiya! Welcome!” The man said. “You’re right on time!”

“Uh, okay…?” You replied.

Without a hitch, the blond lifted up a large tome and began flicking through the pages. In the meantime, you stood there awkwardly, a question on the very tip of your tongue.

“Wh-um, where am I, exactly?” You finally asked.

“Why, you’re in Heaven of course!” He stated jovially before turning the book around and tapping on a name. “This is you, correct?”

Your name stared back at you in a glowing golden font, all pretty and shiny —

And underlined?

“Yeah.” You blinked. “Wait, did you just say Heaven?”

“Mm-hm, yep! And if I could just get you to stand right here at the center of the platform, that’d be great.”

An elevated slab of pure gold rose from the clouds beneath your feet a little ways ahead of you. Timidly, you made your way over and onto the platform as instructed. You were pleasantly surprised at the instant warmth that met the bottoms of your bare feet.

“Pe-rr-fect!” With a flap of suddenly conjured wings, the gatekeeper floated down to hover right beside you. “Now, we just wait for Emily. She should be here in 3, 2, 1… .5 — ”

A loud clang startled you out of your skin for the second time, and you whipped around to face the woman that had spontaneously appeared in front of you.

She panted. “Oh my goodness! I’m so sorry! I didn't mean to be late!”

The golden gates pulled back to reveal the white-haired newcomer in all her splendor. This other angel was bedecked in a floor-length white gown to match her downy-white hair and periwinkle-grey skin dotted with white freckles. A halo hung over her head, casting an eternal light over her large, bluish eyes that sparkled with mirth.

Like the gatekeeping angel, her wings flapped behind her, but you noted how they seemed to flutter nervously. Or perhaps excitedly?

“Welcome to Heaven!” She opened her arms toward you. “We’re so glad you’re here! I’m Emily, but you can call me Emmy, or E, or Millie. Whatever you want!”

You waved dazedly. “Hi.”

Emily stopped short of touching you, despite looking like she was about to wrap her arms around you in a hug. Instead, the angel bit her lower lip as she stared at you.

“I really am sorry I was late. I got caught up talking with Sera, making sure everything was all ready for your arrival.” She gushed. “Thank you for greeting her, Peter!”

Peter brightened. “Of course.”

Emily turned back to you, buzzing with anticipation like a bumblebee. “Anyway, I’m sure you have tons of questions! No worries at all! I’m here to give you a tour and show you around your new home!”

You cautiously took the hand offered to you, and let yourself be led through the golden gate.

—

Heaven was very beautiful, and very clean. The polished golden floors and beautifully-crafted architecture, complete with smiling people of all races, sexes and species didn’t unwrench you from a nagging sense of confusion however.

“Um. Emily?” You asked your companion — well, one of your companions. Peter had elected to join the two of you on your tour, commenting that he’d gotten someone to cover his eternal shift at the gate for the next few hours.

“Yes! Yes?” She smiled at you encouragingly. No doubt, your silence, while it had not stopped her constant chatter, had been a downer in as far as engagement.

“I’m… dead. Right?” You asked. “I mean that’s how one gets to Heaven, so obviously I am… right?”

The mood turned down at that, with Emily turning morose. “Yes, I’m afraid so.”

“Okay, good. I mean — I’m dead, but I’m having a hard time remembering h-how it… happened.” You admitted, embarrassed. And a little afraid, if you were honest with yourself. “Is that… normal?”

Emily and Peter stopped on either side of you, twin looks of confusion on their poreless faces.

Peter was quicker to recover. “Oh that can happen sometimes! Dying can be a very traumatic thing for the soul.”

Emily seemed hesitant for the first time since you’d met her, but with a look from Peter, she seemed to gain resolve. “Yes, yeah. Lots of people forget… but you’ll remember in time, I’m sure!”

“But wait!” Emily gasped. “We could ask Sera about it!”

She clapped her hands together joyfully, while Peter’s expression teetered on uncertainty.

“Uh, Em? I don’t think —”

“We were headed her way anyway.” Emily nodded as if affirming her own plan. “I’m sure she’ll be happy to help us figure this out!”

The angel yanked you forward in her quest to get to Sera (whoever that was) and had you stumbling on pure fluff to catch up with her.

Many angels raced to get out of the way as Peter called out in alarm, but apart from shouldering a particularly tall angel clad in a chasuble, you were unable to stop or slow down.

—

“Hello child.”

The Seraphim (“Sera.” Emily had urged) was so large that you had to crane your neck up to see her face.

She was beautiful in the most ethereal way. To look upon her was to look at a celestial body and feel your own insignificance dragging you down and swallowing you whole.

Your surroundings — a gold and white antechamber with delicately carved archways and a grand war table in its center — did not help.

Emily laid a hand on your shoulder with concern before you realized that you’d been paralyzed by the scene before you and had yet to say a word.

You stuttered a hello, and Sera’s stoney face softened into an understanding smile. “Be not afraid, my friend. I mean no harm.”

You returned the smile, albeit shakily.

Emily squeezed your shoulder. “Sera? We have a question.”

The Seraphim gestured with open palms.

“Well, we were going around Heaven, and just kind of talking before um… well…”

“Emily, dear. Please speak up.” Sera’s command was gentle but firm.

Emily bounced in her spot, unable to keep herself from floating up from the ground.

“Shesaysshedoesn’trememberhowshegothere!” She blurted out.

You and Sera both stared at Emily for a long moment, trying to process what exactly she had said. Sera had opened her mouth once more before the grand entrance into the committee room was slammed open and all heads turned to the unwelcome sound.

The angel with the chasuble came barrelling in, and the omnipresent sunlight that touched everything around you glinted off the sharp black horns winding down from his skull. Or was it a skull? The face of this particular angel looked odd to you, with its smooth, glassy surface and flickering pixelated expression that replaced natural features like lips, cheeks and a nose.

Their appearance looked at odds with everything else you’d seen in Heaven, regardless of the holy garbs they wore. Everything, while somewhat fantastical on the basis of it actually existing, resembled the organic and natural, and this figure stuck out like a sore thumb in comparison.

“What the actual fuck? She’s actually here?!” The abrasive, aggressive voice that came out his digitized face shook you from your musings.

You shrunk back toward Emily and Sera, instinctively trying to get away from the rapidly approaching figure that also towered over you. He glared in your direction, as if you were an insect he wanted to squash, and only when you lost the nerve to meet his gaze did you realize there was another angel behind him. This one wore a similar face, though they were smaller, slimmer and straight-backed. They wore darker vestments and jet-black horns as well, with wings nearly as jagged and hardlined.

“Adam,” Sera greeted hesitantly. “I don’t believe you were summoned.”

“Why is she here?” ‘Adam’ demanded, as if the Seraphim had never spoken. His companion stood firmly just a pace behind him, arms behind their back.

Their combined presence was so off-putting, and your brow furrowed with mounting confusion. Sera’s shoulders slowly rose and fell as she sighed, disapproval in the hard line of her mouth.

“That was part of the agreement.”

“Uh, yeah — with the Devil!” His demeanor completely threw you off, so much so that you didn’t catch the full extent of what he’d said. “Who the fuck keeps their end of the deal with that asshole?”

You couldn’t hold back a scoff of disbelief, even as your confusion deepened. ‘The devil?’

A hand wrapped around your forearm, making you turn to look at Emily, who’d once more moved beside you. Her ire was clear, though much less contained than Sera’s. “Who are you to question Divine Judgement?”

Adam laughed condescendingly. “Do you know who you’re talking to? I’m the fucking CEO of Divine Judgement, kid!”

“We are literally judges, juries and executioners in Hell.” The other angel chimed in, flat and resolute. The smirk that curved her stitched lips gave away some covert sense of satisfaction in that statement.

“Executioners?” Emily’s voice rose a few octaves. “What’re you talking about?”

She was legitimately bewildered.

“Enough.” Sera stepped in. “Adam, this has never been, nor was it ever, a debate. If you have a grievance, you can take it up with the counsel at a later date.”

“My ‘grievance’ isn’t gonna fucking wait for this bitch to fuck shit up!” Adam pointed at you with a poisonous claw.

“Excuse me?” You demanded in sheer disbelief. “Who do you think you are?!”

The grin Adam shot you was more a bearing of one’s teeth, which further threw you for a loop as, again, his face was completely digital. “I’m fuckin’ Adam. The First Man. The Original Dick. I’ve been here since the fucking beginning. I earned this shit.”

“Who do you think you are?” He asked, advancing on you. “You think you can whore yourself out to the worst being in all of Creation and still take up space in Heaven? Are you fucking kidding me?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Your gaze narrowed, a stark contrast to the whirlpool of thoughts swirling in your mind at his accusation.

“HA! Seriously?” His face was mere inches from yours. “What? D’you open your legs for fuckin’ everyone? Have a hard time keeping track of all the brats you pop outta that used vag? Guess so, if even dying for one doesn’t ring your fuckin’ bell.”

“ADAM!”

Adam’s sharp grin dropped, expression dawning from stunned to petulant as Sera’s thunderous exclamation reverberated through the vast space between your unusual group. You swore the clouds trembled beneath your feet, but it was hard to care too much with the insinuations that had been thrown at you rattling within your being.

Dying for…

“Charlotte.” Your eyes widened to the size of saucers. Air escaped your lungs - which shouldn’t have been possible, but you were already dealing with one crisis upon the epiphany of what you’d been missing this whole time.

A blitz of images and sordid emotions saw you struggling, legs falling out from under you as the weight of how exactly you’d died forced you down. Emily’s distressed cry sounded from above you, melding with Lucifer’s frantic pleas for you not to go as life drained from your body.

The Seraphim’s shadow engulfed your broken form while you panicked on Heaven’s floor.

—

Lucifer sat hunched in his chair, your cold, lifeless hand hanging in his.

Charlotte had stopped crying and presumably gone to sleep. He hadn’t put up any fight when Cass took her to a crib set up beside your… your bed.

That was who knows how long ago. And apart from Cass coming over the check on his daughter, the elderly worshippers had left him to grieve in peace.

The King had tried to convince himself to get up. He needed to take Charlotte and leave. Go home. The sight of you in death was unbearable — but he could not move.

He couldn’t leave you, even if you were no longer there in spirit. The You he loved the most, your soul, was gone and had been gone for some time now.

You had gone to the one place he could not follow.

Lucifer’s hanged head slowly rose. His thoughts were starting to become more coherent — what if you hadn’t gone where you were meant to?

Heaven was a paradise bound by rules, but it was also a cold bureaucracy where things could fall through the cracks.

And any dealings with him — Heaven’s sworn nemesis — were likely to be one of those things.

Slow-building anger replaced the gold in his veins as Lucifer considered that his own Deal was not met. If it wasn’t, that meant you were down Below, alone and afraid and suffering.

The Devil’s claws cricked, fist clenching as he glared at the wall opposite him.

He would not let you Suffer. Not you. Never you.

And you weren’t here anymore. He needed to know where you’d gone. Now.

Rising from his seat, Lucifer laid your hand at your side and ignored the tears that stung his eyes at the sight of your ashen face.

He touched your brow, lingering only to memorize the way your lashes rested against your sinking cheeks before turning to Charlotte’s cradle.

She was sleeping peacefully, unaware of his anguish, of the great loss that not only he had endured but she as well. It made Lucifer’s heart ache.

He closed his eyes, inhaling deeply.

Then, with a sudden snap of his fingers, Lucifer conjured the presents he’d made especially for her.

The twin goats appeared, suspended in the air behind him. Lucifer didn’t bother to turn until their bodies were triple their original size, fur changing from felt to coarse fiber, eyes glowing as they were transformed from button to bonafide, and their bat-like wings began to beat at the air, blowing back the gossamer of Charlotte’s bassinet.

Lucifer looked between the two magicked goats after kissing his daughter’s fragile head.

“Stay here and protect the baby.” He ordered. “Charlotte is your top priority, do you understand?”

The two creatures nodded simultaneously, determination set in their naturally adorable maws.

“If anything happens, just bleat, and I’ll be back in the wink of an eye.” Lucifer’s wings extended and propelled him upward with a great stroke.

The King of Hell disappeared through an enormous portal, sparking and swirling reddish-gold before vanishing behind him.

*** Tag List: @crescent-z, @for-hearthand-home, @undertale-is-sansational, @loslox, @navierkalani, @yaimlight, @ivoryviness, @crystalplays28, @flowerempress, @wally-darling-hyperfixation, @altruisticradiodemon, @moonlight-readings, @halparkebitch, @charliecharlie65, @sockgoblin, @cocomollo, @caniseethefourthsword, @squeegeeclean, @crow-twink, @an-emovision, @marydragneell, @lafy-taffy, @fandom-imagines1, @loquacious-libra, @glowymxxn, @avadakadabra93, @froggybich, @hamthepan, @ukor02, @adaizel, @boogiemansbitch, @vinillies, @lbcreations-blog, @thesoundresoundsecho, @serenity-loves-red, @alientee, @aquaamythest96, @0strawberrysorbet0, @fluffy-koalala, @washeduphazbin, @rebecca-hvnstn, @velvette3, @kermitdafroggy, @wpdarlingpan, @apatcheworkofproblems,

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel lucifer #lucifer morningstar #lucifer x reader #lucifer morningstar x you

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m-ayo-o · 2 months

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he's crazy for u !! 18+ kindaa rough sex xx

Gojo acts like he's possessed when he sees your smile.

He sees you giggling with your friends.

He wants to fuck the air right out of your lungs.

He makes you laugh in the car on the way home.

He wants to replace that jovial, pretty sound with dirty moaning.

You smile and thank him for the ride, but in his head he sees your face when you cum on his fat dick.

Your hands are all over his chest now, your lips against his in a giddy smile. He needs more...

So he takes you by the hips and slips you on the kitchen counter.

"you should know better, honey"

"hm? huh, Toru?"

You act clueless as ever, giving him another cheeky grin and kissing his pouty bottom lip.

You know how he gets when you act like this.

You know how hard he has to fuck you.

So you keep it up till he loses his mind and does just that.

You're still smiling and joking around when he's holding his cock in his hand, pressing it right up to your bare and tight pussy. He can't wait to shut you up but he loves this part, so he savours it.

Between your giggles you give him little expectant looks. Waiting for him to put it in.

He teases your clit.

He doesn't know if you deserve it.

He knows you're doing this all on purpose.

"you're a naughty girl, hm, aren't you baby?"

He asks while smearing the stream of your arousal all over his cock, up and down your waiting, dripping pussy.

"making me so fucking crazy for you..." he admits while staring at where he needs you most.

"am i, Toru," you giggle one more time and his eyes roll back, "are you gunna fuck me now?"

He sucks his teeth and sinks his cock into you on command. What a little bitch, he thinks.

But his body doesn't let him stop. He's not in control.

The demon in him is taking over, craving to hear your filthiest screams.

He grunts and growls his way inside you, forcing you open aggressively. You're still biting back a smile until he gets all the way in and your face shifts.

Your mouth hangs ajar, looking confused and maybe a bit hurt.

He draws his cock back and fucks it in.

Your breath escapes your throat in little whining noises and your gorgeous, ethereal, pure smile is replaced by the most pornographic expression known to man. Your eyebrows are hitched up, your mouth opens wider- he can see your tongue and down your throat. He wants to hear you gag, he wants to choke you, he wants to spit on you, soak you with his cum and fill you to the brim. It's all consuming. He ravages you, pinning you to the counter, slamming your hips with his own, only biting down on your breasts and sensitive nipples to silence his desperate moaning. He needs to hear you loud and clear.

Then pauses his nasty thrusting to see your smile return for a second.

"Toru~" you breathe his name in the lull.

"beautiful" he sighs and pushes you down over the cold countertop and makes out with your neck till you cream and orgasm all over his length.

He looks you right in the eyes when you do, taking in every detail of your pleasured expression. Your skin looks hot. There's an unearthly glow to your chest, where he ripped away your vest. He watches your lungs heave and your pulse stammer in your throat as the little whimpers escape. Your lips twitch and he presses kisses over your cheeks, caressing you with his long, downy lashes, and he rolls his hips into you. As if he's giving you a personal lap dance, his body grinds into yours and his pornstar cock massages your g spot.

Your cream is all over him now and he can't take his eyes off it- how he sinks in and out, every single inch- until his body starts tensing up with his impending release.

He milks it.

He fucks you slow and starts pumping his cum inside, spreading your thighs with his hands and slipping his cock into the very deepest part of you.

Now he's satisfied.

A proud smile forms on his face.

Now yours is gone.

Replaced by his favourite, slutty, fucked out expression.

One that only he can give you.

satoru

#gojo satoru smut #satoru smut #satoru gojo #jujutsu kaisen #jjk x reader #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #18+ content #female reader #satoru imagine

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wildestdreamsblog · 6 months

Text

Latibule: Season 2 Prologue

Pairing: Min Yoongi x Reader (Mafia/Detective AU)

Summary: In which he lost his latibule.

Warnings: Secret Identity, Yandere behavior, Obsessiveness, Possessiveness, Manipulative behavior, Violence, Mention of death, Disability, Sexual themes, If you’re not 18+ please, PLEASE, do not interact. Be mindful of the warnings. Let me know if I miss anything.

A/N: happy halloween! 🎃

Masterlist Epilogue

"You'll open your stitches, Yoongi-ah," Kim Seokjin noted with a monotonous tone, his eyes still trained on the tablet he was holding when he heard a rustling of the sheets, the first ever sign that the man was truly alive. The mafia prince that turned medical director was sitting comfortably, his long leg over the other as though he had gotten a good night's sleep since the mayhem that happened. It was the eighth day since Yoongi was in a coma, and similarly, it was the eighth day since you passed.

Since then, numerous things transpired- and they were all of violent nature. The five of them shed volume of blood, more so by the youngest of them. It was too bad for the traitors that Jeon Jungkook was frustrated because he almost found his wife. She was almost within his grasp when he was urgently needed back in Korea because unshockingly, one of their brothers was trying to kill the other. And well, the organization needed cleansing of traitors.

Additionally, it was worse for the traitors because the moment he returned was the moment he found his sunshine gone.

Yoongi was physically healing, as evidenced by his vitals that Seokjin was diligently monitoring. It was expected. Yoongi was not likened to a cat for nothing. They all physically saw him fall from the third floor, stood up, and brushed his hands as though it was nothing when they were younger. There was not even an ounce of doubt in their minds that he would wake up one of these days.

That was the thing, Yoongi was healing. But now, Seokjin wondered what would happen once he knew what happened to you.

He didn't have to wait long.

"W-where is she?" Yoongi asked with apparent effort, his hand clutching his shoulder with a barely restrained pain flashing on his face. "I need to go to her. She must be so scared," He sat up and waited for Seokjin to say something, anything.

And he waited, and waited- yet, Kim Seokjin didn't answer him. He merely regarded him with a somber expression on him, a foreign look on his usual jovial face. Jin's jaw was clenched, and he hated to be the bearer of bad news.

Yoongi blinked, looking at the older man's eyes with quick realization. He couldn't have gotten any paler even if he wanted to, his eyes widened at what he already knew.

"No. Hyung, no. Fucking no," he shook his head, his movements quick as he pulled the dextrose harshly from his skin, blood now dripping on his hand. He stood up as he aimed for the door, every step he took was shaky, yet his determination to see you was strong. "Take me to her! Where is she!"

Jin tried as best as he could to contain the man, and that was how Kim Namjoon found them. He should have known, he was no match to a man who just lost the only person he ever loved. Namjoon immediately helped his hyung, securing Yoongi's other arm on his side. But the mafia leader was like a wounded animal, thrashing around as it tried to find reprieve. In this case, it was you who was his peace.

"Hyung, stop it! You're going to hurt yourself," Namjoon ordered as gently as he could, but it fell on deaf ears. Yoongi looked at Namjoon, his dark eyes filled with panic and unshed tears. He thought that maybe Namjoon would take him to you.

You were just hurt, right? You were just resting that was why his hyung couldn’t take him to you…right? You were somewhere here. He just needed to ask more, to impose more, and if needed, he just had to scream louder for you and you would come to him…right?

You were alive, right?!

"Namjoon-ah, where is my angel, hmm? Take me to her!" his voice were shaking as he fisted his hands on Namjoon’s shirt, trying to get the taller man to look at him, to listen to him. He was close to pleading, and he wasn’t above it.

Why were they quiet?

Why were they looking at him as though they pity him?

He wasn’t pitiful, he thought. He had you.

The two men shared a downcasted look. Both men didn't know how to tell him that you didn't survive, that not even your remains survived. But they had to.

"She didn't...survive."

Yoongi blinked, and the two of them were quiet as they waited with bated breath for his reaction. Yet, Yoongi just straightened up while chuckling. “Stop lying, Namjoon.”

“He’s not lying,” Jin stated before showing you the necklace he kept in his pocket…your necklace. “This was the only thing left in the scene. You’re the Chief of Police. You know what this means, Yoongi-ah.”

Yoongi smirked before marching to the door. “T-that’s not hers.”

“Hyung, where are you going?”

“To find her. She’s not dead. She’s not gone. S-She promised me she would never leave me. She never breaks her p-promise,” he struggled to say each word as his body had not yet fully recovered. His determination was commendable, but seeing him reduced to denying your death broke what was left of the brothers’ hearts. “Angel needs m-me. I cannot fail her. N-not this time.”

Yoongi’s body swayed to the side, yet he remained steadfast, walking to where he thought you were. And if he needed to crawl, then he would. If he needed to kneel just to see you, then he would be down on his fucking knees, begging for your forgiveness.

His body failed him the moment he opened the door, his barely-recovered form crashing on the ground that Jin had no choice but to contain the thrashing man the best way he could. With a small prick on his neck, Min Yoongi lost consciousness.

The last thing he called for was you.

Even in his dreams, you never came.

Chapter I

#bts fic #yandere bts #bts yandere #min yoongi fic #min yoongi x you #min yoongi x y/n #yandere min yoongi #min yoongi x reader #min yoongi yandere #yoongi x you #yoongi x y/n #yoongi x reader #suga x you #mafia bts

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sh0tanzz · 2 months

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Who do you think would be the mtl jealous bf in riize?

OMGG ive been waiting for an ask like this 😭

MTL JEALOUS BF IN RIIZE based on astrology ~

(reminder that this for fun and astrology is something I study for a hobby, these are all inferences based off of observations and not exact fact unless I knew them myself !!)

Most

Sungchan - Tbsh his jealousy would be pretty overboard and extremely obvious like a blaring red signal. He would NOT play about you. His cancer moon makes him pretty sensitive and obvious with his emotions so if he felt jealous he'd get in his feelings or even sulk/ruminate as well as he'd take it pretty personal and have a hard time letting go. His leo venus makes him pretty dramatic 😭. This venus paired with his moon might make him cause a scene or "act out" . His venus+moon leads to him wanting your care and attention on him and him alone. His cap mars screams possessiveness and being restrictive, he'd get so possessive do not let him see you laugh at another guys jokes or be helpful to another guy he'd be FUMING .

Wonbin - I honestly wasn't going to rank Wonbin this high but then I remembered his taurus mars paired with venus square pluto and pluto conjunct lilith so...here we are LMFAOO. From my own personal observations taurus mars is way more possessive in comparison to taurus venus; those pluto/venus/lilith aspects paired with his mars can make his jealousy take a snowball effect leading to an emotional avalanche. Plus a power imbalance fueling the jealousy even more and leading to him being restrictive. However, I ranked him below Sungchan because Sungchan would be VERY petty and loud about his jealousy while Wonbin would most likely silently seethe (due to his pisces sun, aquarius mercury) until he ultimately can't handle holding back, but until then his jealousy would still be DEEP.

Shotaro - His scorpio moon+capricorn venus makes him take the relationship pretty seriously. He craves stability and honesty and once he feels like his jealousy is compromising the security and trust in the relationship he must act ! He won't be too quick to jump into conclusions because of his libra mars, he'd probably think things through before asking/acting on his jealousy..and he might front and pretend he's only a tiny bit jealous/concerned when really it's weighing heavy on his heart in the beginning. When he is jealous he'd be more quiet and less jovial than he usually is. He'd be pretty straight up and might even just ask/tell you about how he's feeling. When things are clarified things will be cool again and he'll go back to being your sweet taro and hopefully stop staring daggers into the random guy talking to you while smiling.

Anton - Very unserious, would text "what position he got you in" and move on with his day. KIDDDING kind of 😭 He'd have short phases of possessiveness due to his taurus venus. His moon square saturn and venus square neptune can lead to slight paranoia and being unable to naturally express his insecurities which could be the source of the jealousy. Despite these things he wouldn't express his jealousy in toxic or overboard ways, he'd probably express his jealousy through jokes or non seriousness hoping you would pick up on it (you probably would with that mercury aries, straight to the point) If he ever did tell you straight up he wouldn't be too harsh he'd just want to be honest and being reassured will patch everything right up.

Sohee - I ranked Sohee this low because honestly when reading his chart I feel like his jealousy would, similarly to Anton's, be quick to come and go. He'd be quick to say something or show that he's uncomfortable. He wouldn't sit you down to have a serious convo about it, but it would have to just passively come out in conversation . As soon as he felt reassured then he'd be fine once again. Now if it was an ongoing issue of scenarios that led to him being jealous then he'd have a more serious even messy approach (his mars square pluto) his temper would awaken. But outside of that he trusts you, even if he doesn't trust and is suspicious of the guys around you he trusts YOUUU at the very end.

Seunghan - Oh the lovely boyfriend that just wants to keep the peace. He wouldn't want you to hound him out of jealousy so he ofc wouldn't do that to you either. If he was jealous he'd be more emotional rather than being petty+aggressive. His mercury is exalted in virgo so he'd definitely want to talk about it or at least let you know how he feels. Outside of that I think he'd want to avoid such a thing in the first place. He'd trust you as best as he can and wouldn't want there to be an imbalance in the relationship to where one of you are restricting the other due to deep seated jealousy (thanks to his libra sun+venus and sag moon). He quite literally just wants you two to be happy and knows that genuine jealousy can poison such a good thing.

Eunseok - I'm sorry fellow briize but this man is quite literally the least of your concern. His aries venus wouldn't want to make things too serious and ominous with jealousy (plus because he values his freedom so in his mind you must value yours too right ?) His sag mars paired with it means he doesn't want to dwell with thoughts of you possibly giving your attention to other guys. He basically has a nonchalant "she knows where home is" mentality lowkey. Plus if he ever did feel jealous he'd probably not say anything because his cap moon+pisces mercury would barely let him properly express it (with words at least). Also weirdly enough he'd be more jealous if you weren't in a relationship compared to if you guys were; once you two are officially together he wouldn't be as jealous anymore .

Least

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politemenacephd · 2 months

Text

Miguel O'Hara X Reader (+18)

♥ You lose a bet with Miguel at the local bar and have to keep quiet while he gets his 𝓻𝓮𝔀𝓪𝓻𝓭 in the bathroom ♥

Content: Public sex, Voyeurism, PinV sex, Size kink, Silent orgasm, Creampie.

Notes: No gendered terms are used. Reader is described wearing a skirt tho so just be aware x

Word count: 1,200

‘Shh, shh.’

Miguel’s voice filled your ear, his quiet shushing just barely audible.

The low, muffled music from inside the main bar echoed into the quiet stall. It should have been the only noise here, but there was something just beneath it that seemed out of place. The faint sound of rustling fabric, underlined by the soft echo of skin smacking against skin.

Your breath came out in a shaky, stunted pant.

You were holding on for dear life.

You’d gone out drinking with Miguel at your favourite bar. He’d dressed up for the occasion, ditching his suit for tight jeans and a white shirt with a leather jacket on top that was just a little too small, and for the first time you’d decided to go out in a skirt.

You should have noticed he was behaving differently. The usually quiet and stoic man was just a little too jovial, perhaps a little too interested. You’d brushed it off.

It’s been fine at first; you got a few drinks, you chatted about work, but as the night wound on you’d made a fatal mistake. After one too many taunts Miguel had sarcastically placed down a bet, and like a fool you’d taken it.

You should have known he could drink more than you. He was twice your size, and a superhuman to boot. He knew that too, and that’s why he’d made his conditions for winning so specific.

When you inevitably lost you were mortified, yes, but you were anything but untrue to your word.

Now you were in the third stall at the back of the bar bathroom, with your cute little skirt hitched over your thighs and his jeans unzipped, and you were being bounced mercilessly up and down on the end of his enormous cock.

He was being mean about it too. He had one hand on your ass and the other on your face, his calloused thumb pressed to your wet lips, all so he could admire the agony in your face from trying to suppress the screams.

His jeans muffled the sound of you bouncing on his lap, but neither of you could quell how wet you were. The subtle squelch was clear as he rutted between your legs, his thick shaft splitting you open until you oozed slick.

You couldn’t stand it. You couldn’t stand how you’d bitten your hand to stop crying his name when he first pushed in, how he’d seen you drooling and mewling for it as he started to pump.

You shouldn’t have joked he was average sized. You were paying for it now.

You tried to slow down to muffle that erotic noise but he refused. His face was all you could focus on in the tiny stall, and you could see how much he was enjoying this, the sick fuck.

His hazy red eyes, his parted lips, the flash of his tongue as he stifled another groan. You watched his eyes roll as he nuzzled your cervix, bathing in the sensory overload of your tight, wet pussy squeezing the life out of his fat cock.

When his eyes opened again his lips tilted into a smirk. He mouthed the words to you:

‘Sore loser.’

Right as he spoke you felt his bulbous member creaming all over your cervix, smearing you with pre-cum as he thrust up into your guts. You bit your lip so hard it bled, desperate to stop any noise escaping, but fuck it was so hard.

You could hear people laughing as they walked by outside, as your body was jostled up and down on Miguel’s lap.

He was struggling to not pant at this point. You could feel the sweat on his thick, muscled, hairy thighs beneath you. You were both sweaty, both shaking.

His thick fingers dug deep into the fat of your hips as he pounded upward. You winced a little in his grip.

‘Too big?’ he mouthed. You shot him a look that could kill, and he ate it up.

‘So tight’ he mouthed dreamily. ‘So pretty.’

You felt the heat rising in your body as he pumped harder. You could feel his veins pulsing on your soft, squishy walls, and you knew he was painting you with his pre-cum. It was both arousing and embarrassing.

Even if you didn’t get caught here, you’d have to walk back into that bar like nothing happened, covering your ruined panties, knowing his cum was sitting in your tight cunt all the way home.

His eyes narrowed and he licked his fang, his smirk growing bigger. He was thinking the same thing.

In the silence of the stall he continued to fuck you hard. He wanted to ride this out, to have you ride him until you could barely walk, but it felt too good. He could feel his muscles tightening with a desire to fill you, own you, to empty out all of his seed into that perfect wet space.

But he needed one more thing first. With a soft grunt he moved his hand, lifting your skirt up so he could watch his cock impaling your creamy little pussy, before settling his thumb over your clit.

‘MMF—’

You tugged at his shirt, your face screwed up tight as you shook your head. You couldn’t take it. You couldn’t be quiet. You were dripping slick onto his stupid jeans, you were about to cum all over his stupid cock. He dug his nails in hard as he pushed you, throwing you back on his lap as he fucked you into submission.

‘Do it’ he mouthed at you dumbified face, ‘do it. Do it.’

It was right at that moment that the bathroom door swung open. A flood of noise filled the room as a group of girls came in to touch up their makeup in the bathroom mirror, forcing you to bite your hand again.

It felt too good to stop. You didn’t care if you got caught.

Their laughter just barely covered the sound of your orgasm. You trembled in agony as you spasmed on his cock, and with that smug grin still on his lips he rode out every second of your pleasure. With wide and manic eyes Miguel came with you.

You felt everything. You felt his cock pulse and expand as he shot the first spurt of cum inside you, hot and thick and warm, and then the next, and the next, and the next. You felt his clawed fingers digging into your hips so hard that it left a mark. You saw his eyes rolling, his fangs digging into his lower lip to stop screaming.

Through the haze of pleasure, you took the smallest bit of victory in knowing Miguel would have screamed your name too.

He emptied himself inside you before carefully lifting you off his lap.

He was kind enough to help you stand, and to help pull your panties and tights up. He had the gall to kiss you on the cheek as he stood, his own legs unphased by what he’d done, and then he did the worst thing imaginable.

He pushed open the stall door and left.

You heard the girls all go silent as he strolled past and out of the main door. You heard the continued silence as you stood, shaking, in the now open stall, just barely concealed from their curious eyes. You clung to the wall and closed your eyes.

‘You… fucking asshole’ you hissed.

#miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara fanfiction #miguel o'hara x you #miguel x reader #spider man 2099 #miguel o'hara smut #smut #+18 #atsv miguel #miguel o'hara imagine

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glitchtricks94 · 2 years

Text

TWST Guys Bringing You Home!: Heartslabyul Edition

Welcome to part one, I'm planning on writing all the dorms + Idia. Ortho will just be included with him, personally, since Ortho is too adorable to ever defile in any manner outside of being a cute little brother. Headcannons, headcannons, headcannons! Let's start this off with some cottoncandy fluff, shall we? Not gonna lie, I felt like a mom gushing about all her chaos children over tea writing this. I hope you enjoy these headcannons, and let me know your thoughts. I love interaction and would love to hold a conversation with you guys. Anyways, sit back, relax and have fun. -Glitchtricks Word count: 4k

Ace Trappola

Oh, this is such a delight to see. Little Ace is in love! Ace is super awkward and very defensive, and yet somehow little ol' you broke down all those walls of arrogance and faux confidence, such a special darling you are. So, how would he be if he decided to bring you home to meet his family?

Two words: Nervous. Wreck. Ace is a disaster before bringing you home to meet his brother and father; he's sweating, internally screaming, his anxiety is spiked, and you have to handle everything with your usual grace. Ace has some bad anxiety, which he confided that he coped with it by being all snarky with everyone, i.e. being a dick way too often. You didn't mind though, but you did gently encourage him to come to you if he felt too overwhelmed by everything, just in case he needed to vent. How sweet! There was a lot of texting back and forth, nights cuddling on your near dinosaur era furnishings of Ramshackle, and plenty of kisses on his temples, Ace had calmed down enough to not feel like an anchor was being dropped on his chest at the thought of bringing you home. He was ready to announce you as his to his family!

Oh dear, sweet Seven, he couldn't have predicted any of what happened... First, his brother decided to do the worst thing ever and brought up Ace's old view on dating and how his first girlfriend got ghosted. Ace wanted to die then and there, even being collared by Riddle was more tolerable than this hell... "Hey, (Y/N), you know my baby bro here had a gal before you, right?" "Oh? He did?" You said, your pretty eyes widening. "He's never mentioned her before..." "Dude, please, don't...!" Ace quietly pleaded, humiliation seeping in like a cold rain. "Yeah, he went out a few times with this one girl in middle school. She'd always go to amusement parks with him and stuff, topping it off with a Ferris wheel, but he ghosted her." Ace's brother continued, sipping on his tea. "And why's that?" You prodded, sipping your own tea as you shot a small glare at your boyfriend. You shared stories of your exes, but why didn't he? Did he not trust you? You didn't know whether you should feel hurt, or pissed. You chose to feel pissed. "Got bored, 'cording to him, she was just bland beyond her coffee tastes and liked a lot of stuff that just didn't click with him. She was pretty, but had as much depth as a piece of paper." The elder Trappola explained. "Her friends called him out for his shit, and he swore off dating, too much of a hassle in his opinion, so I'm surprised he decided to go out with you, much less bring you home." "I see." You hummed. Ace knew he was in the dog house and was now preparing to ask Sam if he sold flowers and romance stuff to try and make it up to you when you both got back to Night Raven.

Well, at least pop likes you! Can't wait to have you as an in-law! During dinner, Ace's dad smiled and chatted all about his boys, saying how proud he was of Ace for bringing home such a sweetheart like you! You ended up forgetting the upsetting conversation from earlier given how jovial Mr. Trappola was, he was like that one cool uncle that was trusted with looking after the baby, or that one cool barbeque dad your friends might have. Card tricks were shared, food was eaten and conversation was exchanged, if at a little of your boyfriend's expense. Funny stories were shared, like that one time he accidentally hit his brother in the groin with a bat as a kid when he came home for the holidays, or that time Ace got pranked by his dad with a classic; pouring soap on his head while he was rinsing out his own lather. "My hair was never as silky as it was after that." Ace laughed, starting to loosen up as he threw his arm around your shoulder. You leaned over and pecked his cheek, making both your faces bloom red as you both grinned happily. Overall, you're basically already known as the best in-law ever even before Ace put a ring on it. He's already planning how to ask a few years down the line, though~!

Deuce Spade

Another cute boy, who's mildly awkward when in love. Oh, how sweet! He took a lot of time learning how to properly approach you. didn't he? Deuce is beaming with pride having you on his arm, smiling that cute little boy smile he shows off when he's excited. He loves holding your hand in his as you stroll about the rose gardens of Heartslabyul. You knew he was close to his mom, having ditched his old delinquent days after hearing her crying on the phone to his grandmother, and he often talked about you to her, sometimes while you were sitting right there! Oh, how your cheeks reddened hearing him spout compliments about you to his mother. Both you and Deuce were arranging to meet his mom and grandma, in fact Deuce wanted to introduce you as soon as possible! You're one of the most important people in his life, so he wanted to share you with his familial circle asap. So, how does this all go?

Oh, honey, grandma practically fell in love with you on first sight. You met Deuce's grandma and mom at the same time, the two sitting at the dining room table in Ms. Spade's home, sipping away on their tea. It was a little awkward with Ms. Spade, but granny practically pounced on you when Deuce said you were his significant other. She was just smiling up at you, going on about how much of a cutie you were the whole while. It was quite nice, talking over tea, Deuce smiling happily as he had an arm respectfully wrapped around your waist. Needless to say, mom relaxed a bit seeing how her mother was reacting alongside her baby boy.

Deuce didn't know why he didn't expect the baby pictures to be brought out... Baby books, baby books and more baby books. You were surprised by the sheer amount that Deuce's mother loved to do scrapbooking, it was like there was a mountain of baby books from when your sweet card soldier was growing up! There had to be about six books sitting on the coffee table. Everyone had gathered into the living room after tea, Ms. Spade excitedly flitting about the place like a child on sugar, gathering all these books to stack, Deuce slowly turning red seeing his old baby books being yanked out again. You sat next to Deuce, holding his hand with your fingers interlaced. "Here's when Deuce was two, he always played with his food, he was such a messy baby!" Ms. Spade gushed, showing off a picture of baby Deuce smiling up at the camera; baby food was smeared all over his smiling face, his hands caked in the stuff and the bowl on his little head, his pretty jade colored orbs shimmering with joy. "His little smile is infectious!" You chirped, smiling warmly at the picture of your darling boyfriend. Deuce buried his head in your hair, hiding from his embarrassment.

Deuce felt like melting into your embrace at this point. You made his night. After a fun dinner filled with embarrassing stories from when Deuce was young, warm hearty laughter and sweet gazes exchanged with your boyfriend, the two of you settled into bed, you sneaking out of the guest room grandma insisted you stay in to steal some kisses and snuggles. You settled into Deuce's arms as he kissed your rosy cheeks, tangling your legs with his under the covers. Looking into his eyes, you've never seen him look so happy since he got an 86 on his history exam. "I love you so much, baby." Deuce whispered sweetly, your heart fluttering in your chest. "I love you too, honey." You replied, your own voice laced with the sugar of your love for the jade eyed boy. "I wanna say thanks for coming with me to meet my mom and grandmother, it meant a lot to me." "Deucey, it's no trouble!" You chirped softly, smiling up at your lover. "I'm just happy they like me." "They love you, you fit perfectly into the family!" Deuce laughed, his shoulders shaking. "It's honestly a relief that you get along, I was scared things would go wrong. But, I guess I panicked for nothing." The navy haired first year continued, turning to gaze at you with so, so much love. "You're perfect after all." Deuce was gonna be the death of you, he was always so sweet. You could mark this day as a sweet, sweet success: Your boyfriend was happy, grandma loves you, mom thinks you're perfect for her son, and everything felt like utter bliss. So, without saying another word, you sealed your night with Deuce with a kiss...~

Cater Diamond

Cater being in love honestly isn't surprising; being in love is such brand booster! Cute Magicam couples? Yes please! Being real though, Cater's honestly a major handful for you, because under that cheery "Caycay is gonna slayslay" vibe that the 3rd year carries, he's honestly a complete wreck and is terrified that you'll get tired of his anticks. Shocking how he and Azul aren't besties in that regard. However, he had no need to fear! The marvelous S/O was here to save the day: Cuddles, kisses, spicy ramen and at home spa treatments were being rapid fired from your heart to claim Cater's love and destroy his anxiety! So, with the day saved, you and your lovely boyfriend could be free to talk about a tough topic; when are you gonna meet his family? Cater ended up laughing at your question and told you to start packing your bag, he's going to talk Crowley into letting you have a weekend getaway! Even if he disliked his sisters!

Already he was regretting life... Cater's sisters immediately burst out to greet their baby brother after his mom called, and the first thing they do? Tell you that your shirt is super not cute and Cater should go buy you another one. "It's what a good boyfriend would do!" The eldest sister said, folding her arms over her chest. "Yeah! It's what our boyfriends did!" His other sister chimed in. Cater was here less than five seconds and already he felt like blowing a gasket... "But this is my favorite shirt. That I bought myself." You said, crossing your arms over your chest. "You don't get to tell me what to wear, so shush." "Way to stand up for yourself, honey bunny~!" Cater chirped, smiling at you as he led you inside with an arm around your waist. The ginger boy swore he fell even harder than when he first started dating you in that moment.

Cater was internally screaming at how his sisters acted and just wanted to go home. Oh, and mom didn't really like you, so there's that. The room was a bit tense as you sat and shared tea and some lightly burned pastries made by Cater's sisters. Cater himself was suffering the overly sweet baked goods and planned to just spend the after noon there. "So, how did you and my son meet?" Mrs. Diamond asked, eying you with a sharpened gaze. "Oh, I met him at Night Raven. My friend had gotten into a predicament and I ran into him while he was painting his dorm's roses!" You explained, a warm smile coming to your face as your boyfriend started to blush softly. "He was so cute and charming, still is, honestly." "Awww, babes, stop!" Cater giggled, nuzzling your cheek against his, making you laugh in turn. "I see." His mother huffed. The rest of the time was awkward to say the least.

You could tell your boyfriend could finally breathe after you left the house. Dad wasn't around that day, bit too busy with his banking job, so you didn't get to meet him; not that you really cared, Cater's sisters ruined a good chunk of the afternoon and made your poor honey work himself to the bone! Cater dropped the cheap, fake smile on his face when you both made it out of the house, his anger flaring up as he started muttering various rants under his breath. "Caycay, do you wanna get some lunch? There's a nice ramen place we could go to." You gently suggested, wanting to make your sweetheart feel better and ease his stresses. "It's that reaaally nice one you saw on Magicam the other day. The one that Vil praised" "That...That sounds wonderful honey bunny." Cater sighed, looking at you with a tired grin. Without much thought, you pressed a kiss to his cheek, making his heart flutter. So over lunch, you both came to terms that the fam might not dig on you, but that didn't matter to you or Cater. You had each other, and that's what mattered most to you two lovebirds.

Trey Clover

You have such a good man on your hands, even if he's a touch shy with his affections. When you first broached the topic of meeting his family, Trey was taken aback. He adored you to no end, and he could see a future with you, even if it'd be long distance for a few years, why hadn't he thought of showing you off to his family? "Of course I'll introduce you, darling." He said with a warm smile, leaning down to press a peck on your cheek, "How about we visit this upcoming weekend? I'm sure Riddle can hold it together long enough."

It was a really sweet reception when you showed up. Trey's parents were told about you ahead of time by their eldest, given how he's the responsible boy he is, so you were greeted by a small banner and a custom cupcake in your favorite flavors. The banner that was hung read "welcome home!" in bold, glittering rainbow letters; it tickled you pink! You felt at home already when Trey walked you up to the bakery, and the feeling intensified when his little siblings ran over, cheering over their big brother being home and asking if you were the person mom and dad talked about on the phone with Trey. Already you loved Trey's family, they were adorable in your eyes! "I hope you're ready for the insanity that's my family." Trey playfully remarked, pulling laughter from everyone around him. You hugged your boyfriend with a smile on your face. "I look forward to every minute we stay here."

Trey loved baking alongside you, but you and his family? Talk about heaven! Trey had to help out in the family business still, given his parents ran a bakery that had opened for lunch, so alongside the sweet smells of cake, the occasional smell of crisping pepperonis and melting cheese filled your senses. You found it odd at first, but your boyfriend's father swiftly explained that a demand for some more dinner and lunch friendly goods should be offered and they complied, if only a touch. You were surprised by how willing Trey's parents were when offering your help to ease the rush, helping your darling make and top some sugar cookies with oversized chocolate chips. You ended up swiping kisses from your boyfriend while his mom worked the front of house and his dad prepared the pizzas to be sent out. It seemed the more homely setting brought out the more affectionate side of your lover; small coos of adoration left his lips, tiny kisses peppered your cheeks, and skin to skin contact was through the roof as he guided you by taking your hands into his. It was all so romantic and sweet.

It had to be a bittersweet departure after your little weekend of fun was over, but everyone loved you. You had your bags packed back up with Trey, the luggage sitting in the foyer as you ate a delightful breakfast, feeling right at home as you sat next to your beloved. Trey was holding your hand under the table as you two dug into the fluffy blueberry pancakes his mom and dad had made for everyone, one of his little brothers quickly getting your attention. "(Y/N)?" The little boy called out quietly. "Yes, little one?" You asked, your voice a soft coo. The 3rd year glanced over at you as you interacted with his baby brother, watching carefully. "Will you come back with our big brother again soon?" "Well, that depends on both me and your big brother, dear. I'd love to, though!" You replied, flashing a smile to the little guy, who hugged you. "I'm gonna miss you..." He whined. "Me two!" Trey's sister piped up. "Me thwee!" The youngest chimed in, Trey and his parents chuckling at your interactions. "You have quite the partner here, Trey." His father spoke, looking at his son in pride. "You really do, sweetie, you better try and hold onto them!" Trey's mother spoke, smiling warmly. "They're a keeper!" "I know." Trey replied, looking at you now hugging his younger siblings, warmth bubbling in his chest. "I plan to treat them right." Overall, you had a new home in the Clover family, and your boyfriend's thinking of ways to properly propose to you after the trip. Never hurts to plan it out!

Riddle Rosehearts

Oh god, oh no, this one hurts. This will never ever end well if he picks the S/O... You knew Riddle had some problems he was trying to work through, you understood, truly! And Riddle was eternally grateful for your presence and influence in his life, you had to be the best thing to ever happen to him! You were his angel sent from the stars. Which is why he dreaded introducing you to his mother. He knew his father would've been okay, and he honestly has zero issues showing you off to him! If he was actually at home that is...He was currently abroad when Riddle accidentally let it slip that he was dating. So, in came the demands to meet you to make sure you were good enough for her baby, and the news that you two were going to his house for dinner.

You both had pits in your stomachs when you showed up to the Rosehearts household... You were greeted by the intimidating visage of Riddle's mother, who was standing in the yard with her arms folded tightly over her chest, her eyes boring into you. "Hello, mother." Riddled greeted, closing himself off to your presence and tensing up, his shoulders stiff; a telltale sign that he was stressed. You had to bite back the urge to coo and coddle him like you normally did when he was upset. "Riddle." His mother hummed looking at you with disdain. "Why is your...companion here dressed like that?" She asked sharply, making you feel embarrassed. You had asked Rook of all people to style you, but it appears it's simply not up to par with the impossible standard's Mrs. Rosehearts held. "We had asked one of our fellow classmates to dress them in the finest clothes they had available." Riddle spoke. Riddle's mother tsked. "I thought that I raised you better than this, they look terribly tacky, and I thought you would've had better tastes. Come. Dinner is waiting now." Riddle clenched his fists, feeling sorrow well up in his chest as he looked at you apologetically. You rushed forward, hugging Riddle from behind and kissing his cheek to reassure him. It was still quite the sting hearing his mother act so harsh, though.

Dinner wasn't much better either... You made sure to study proper etiquette with Riddle before you came here, but none of that seemed to matter as you choked down the bland food. Seriously, who doesn't bother to season meet and just serve nothing but tomatoes, onions and iceberg lettuce for a salad...? You tried your best, but Mrs. Rosehearts just eyed you in disgust, biting her tongue but looking at Riddle with a disappointed gaze. Riddle himself couldn't tell if sorrow or anger was bubbling up in his chest. You explained you were from another world when she asked where you were from and she looked at you like you just spat on her when you told her you were magicless; despite her already knowing that. She made Riddle tell her about you after making him nearly break down in tears over the phone last night. "Pathetic! I raised my son better than this, and yet you're barely passing, have no magic, and carry no knowledge of anything worthwhile! You're nothing but a waste of his time and my own!" The harpy of a woman shrieked. Oh, that was it, he picked his side of the fence...

Riddle felt a cord finally snap as all of his years of strict, lonely suffering drove him forward. "Why can't you just be happy that I finally found someone, mother?" Riddle hissed, catching the attention of his present parent. "Because, your selection was terrible! I could pick you a much better partner." Mrs. Rosehearts said, you feeling like you could start crying. "No! I-I don't want anyone else, much less an arrangement where I'll feel nothing for the other party!" Riddle barked angrily, slamming his fist on the table as he stood up. "I want who I fell in love with! I want my rose! I want to stay with (Y/N)!" "When will you see that you're worth more than them?!" "They've been nothing short of an angel to me, fixing the damage you caused!" Riddle yelled, his face bright red from anger. "They're worth far more than me from where I stand!" "Then you can just take that garbage and get them out of this house, you and I will start studying to find you a suitable-" "If they leave, I'm leaving with them, in fact, that's a wonderful idea!" Riddle bellowed, you looking up at him and rising from your seat. Rushing to his side, you tugged him out of the house as Riddle's mother screamed at you two from the kitchen and out the door, Riddle yelling that she won't take you away; he's had so much stripped from him, he refuses to lose you. This entire situation was a disaster, but you knew your precious prince loved you so dearly. Once you two made it back to his dorm, Riddle looked exhausted. You asked him what you could do to ease his struggles after he changed into his pajamas. "My rose, tonight, I just want to forget everything, rules and all..." Riddle whined, looking at you with tired slate grey orbs. "I just want to hold you in my arms and wake up to your face..." "Of course, my love." You cooed softly, kissing his cheeks as you both crawled under the covers of his bed, Riddle curling into your form instantly. Under the warmth of the duvet, everything felt right; you were his and he was yours, and no tyrant was ever going to rip you apart. Riddle had proven his iron clad love belonged to you and you alone.

#twisted wonderland x reader #heartslabyul #ace trappola x reader #deuce spade x reader #riddle rosehearts x reader #trey clover x reader #cater diamond x reader #heartslaybul x reader #ace trappola #deuce spade #cater diamond #trey clover #riddle rosehearts #twst headcanons

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starwrighter · 8 months

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Dude, get a restraining order

(Masterpost) (Ao3 link) (Previous) (Next)

(As promised Damian falls in love at first sight!)

Minutes ticked by like hours as his English teacher droned on about topics he’d learned years ago. Surface-level information dumbed down to its simplest form. Todd had already given him the assigned book years ago. A classic written sometime in the 1950s. He’d claimed it’d be a book he could relate to. He’d quizzed himself, writing an essay to prove he actually read it when Todd came around again.

He guessed that’s why when the discussions of symbolism and deeper meanings started, his interest plummeted. He focused on a worksheet, only half listening as the teacher read aloud. Vocabulary and its context, all of it so dull. painfully easy, but still father wouldn’t allow him to skip grades, nor would the school. Something about him having “Poor social skills,”

Tch, lies and slander. It wasn’t his fault his classmates were too cowardly to speak to him face to face. They’d been the ones to label him as intimidating and cold. If not being a spineless pushover made him intolerable, then he didn't want to be friendly. He wouldn’t allow himself to be taken advantage of, and he sure as hell wouldn’t let anyone talk down to him without facing the consequences.

He didn't need to be social with these hooligans. A waste of time! Plus, he’s certain everyone in class already held a certain distaste for him. It’d be better if he was homeschooled, but father said he needed to be seen by the public so the media wouldn't talk. Journalists and tabloid writers were like vultures they'd squawk regardless if he was in school or not. Father hadn't seen his argument valid so he was stuck with yet another year of this dull nonsense.

A new transfer student from a small town in Illinois should be here today. An outsider spending a whole seven months in Gotham, it should be equal parts entertaining as it’d be inconvenient. The backlash that’d hit them if they let said transfer student die within city borders would be tremendous. He could only hope this Daniel Fenton wasn’t just late and instead backed out like any sensible person would.

Unfortunately, that wasn’t the case as the teacher stepped outside, coming back with a smile of faux sweetness on their face, waving her hand, signaling someone inside.

A boy with eyes blue like sapphire stones stepped into the classroom. His shoulders lax but the way he fidgeted in place screamed he’d rather be anywhere but here. His features were soft, electrical scaring running down the left side of his face, creeping down the boy’s chin and neck. Hair pitch black with short splotches of white-ish gray framed his face. A small silver necklace shaped like Saturn hung from his neck, a clear dress code violation, but clearly, he hadn’t been accosted for it yet. Their teacher encouraged him to introduce himself.

“Hi, My name’s Danny and I hope I don’t die here,” Daniel joked, his posture jovial despite the morbidity of his words.

“Though, I wouldn’t be shocked if I did,” He finished, earning a quiet chuckle from those who could see the boy’s scars.

Daniel glanced around the front row, eyes landing on the empty spot beside him. Daniel quickly took this spot without hesitation, ignoring the multiple students who waved him over with a simple gesture to the left side of his face.

With a closer view of Daniel's left eye, he could see the slight milky discoloration of the pupil and iris. He's likely blind in that eye, but the circumstances of him being born with the impairment are unlikely, judging by the damage around his eye socket. It had healed well for what he could only infer was a grievous injury. The scar tissue looked fresh, no older than a year or so, signaling this partial blindness was relatively new.

He seemed relieved that the teacher was reading out loud like nobody had offered him any sort of accommodation for his disability. Considering Daniel came from a small town in Illinois, he doubted any school accommodations were made for him besides maybe a week or so off school when he was recovering. Gotham wasn’t much better, but Father poured a decent amount into the city’s healthcare and educational systems.

“Tuck your necklace under your shirt,” He whispered to his new seatmate when the teacher turned her back. “It breaks the dress code, you’ll never get it back if a teacher spots it,” A warning deadly serious, a bit stern for something as frivolous as a piece of jewelry, but Daniel looked as if that simple warning had saved his life. Daniel shoved the necklace under his dress shirt with alarming speed, tucking the thin, bronze chain beneath his collar, making the boy’s neck look deceptively bare.

They both continued their work in silence, mutual respect between the two of them to stay out of each other’s way. When Daniel’s pencil lead broke, Damian offered him a sharpener. When their teacher called on him despite his hand being down, Danny answered instead, giddy that “he” was called on. Giving the English teacher the easy choice of admitting she was targeting students or playing the part of a welcoming teacher eager to have the half-blind kid engage with her class.

Daniel did it on purpose too, that was sure. He made class time more bearable that was certain as well. The way his seatmate engaged the subject in an intelligent manner despite frequent mutters of English not “being his subject,” was admirable.

When brought into discussion, Daniel meshed with his new peers relatively quickly, quick to snap in with a clever quip when the opportunity arose. He was by no means a social butterfly but fell into the rhythm of a conversation with practiced ease.

Often, when not writing he fidgeted, picking at black and white polish on his nails or twirling a pencil between two fingers. He’d rest his face on his palm and pursed his lips when confused. Though his mannerisms were somewhat awkward, some might call them cute.

It wasn‘t long until class was over, the bell calling all the students to coagulate by the door, slowly filing into the hallway. All except him and Daniel, who stared at a schedule and a map with furrowed brows. They shared their next class too, an idea that filled him with an odd giddiness.

Damian pulled a copy of his own schedule from his bag, tapping Daniels's shoulder and showing him their matching second-hour classes.

“It would be easier if we went together,”

Daniel smiled, canines sharpened to a point. His heart boomed in his chest, a strange but…Pleasant experience. It was too early to tell, but he thinks he’ll enjoy having Daniel here for the next seven months.

#dp x dc #dpxdc #dc x dp #dcxdp #deadserious #dead serious #deadseriousship #tagging everything so people can filter properly #These bitches gay as hell #good for thems

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