#rip everyone's scalps actually

[targaryenluvs]

— ALL GROWN UP

pairings: coriolanus snow x fem!reader

summary: you were always tigris's annoying rich friend to coriolanus, but once he returns from 12 you seem to be irresistible, not only to him.

warnings: normal coryo in all honesty, jealousy, flirting, p in v, oral (m), choking, kinda subby coryo - for a bit, time gap he spent a year in 12 (i got lazy this is short and basically just porn with slight plot)

a/n: hehehehe first fic of 2024 kiddos besides the klaus one!

your laughter was the last thing coriolanus wanted to hear, ever. it was still annoying when he was here, and it was still once he returned.

"there's no way!" tigris giggled a loud as you joined in.

"tigris?" he called out to her, waiting. "coryo!" tigris yelled as she ran to him, his arms open for her. "it's so good to see you, you’ve been so busy." you laughed, "your hair, it's worse in person." would you shut up? who were you to interrupt a family-

your night dress was black, short, barely below your crotch. lace details, messy hair, you were nothing short a of a dream, and it was messing with his head. he was so use to hating you, your stupid gorgeous face and here he was, dumbstruck. “y/n?” you nodded with a sweet smile, “how are you coriolanus?”

he sighed, “exhausted, between the university and dr gaul, it seems i’m stretched thin these days.” you nodded along, “it seems you’re well on your way to success.” he inhaled, not use to your kind words, “thank you.”

apparently you were staying with the snow’s for a week or so, much to coriolanus’s elation. surprisingly, in the time he’d been away you’d become, tolerable. it sure as hell had nothing to do with the sway in your walk, your sweet eyes looking up at him and your new found confidence, no he just felt nice.

he was itching to get a taste.

he’d seen you out and about, talking with almost all the people around. a kind smile aimed at quite literally everyone. almost every guy in the restaurant seemed to know you, and he couldn’t help but feel annoyed.

didn’t they know you came for lunch with him?

shouldn’t they know better?

you weren’t his, yet.

it was late at night, you needed something to drink.

grandma’ams tea isn’t exactly the most refreshing. you were in the midst of scouring the kitchen for a teabag of actual flavour when you’d heard him behind you.

“looking for this?” he held the jar in his hands, “actually, yes.” you walked over to grab it and he only held it higher, “coryo, please.” he grinned, “coryo huh?” you placed your hands on your hips, annoyed, “yes, now if you don’t mind.” the jar clattered on the counter and you quickly swiped it away. “would you like some?”

in the reflection of the glass cabinet, you saw him shake his head, “i’m in the mood for something else.” you giggled at his vagueness, “oh? and what might that be mr snow?” his smirk was all you needed to know what he was hinting at. “you’re playing a dangerous game here coryo,” he feigned confusion, “am i now?” you smiled, “yes you are.” he was behind you now, breath heavy and hot on your shoulder, “i might be, question is, are you willing to play?”

his lips were on your neck, light as ever, open mouthed kisses all the way up to your cheek. “cory” he gathered your hair, swinging it over your shoulder, “cory? that’s new.” you smiled, “i know. i’m going to take a shower, wanna join? to conserve water of course.” as if they need to, they had more than enough money now.

“to conserve, of course.”

the hot water rose steam, surrounding you as coryo watched from outside. the fog covered up all the parts he wanted to see, and his night pants seemed smaller. soap running all over you, soft hands trailing down. “i think you’ll get a much better view from in here.”

he ripped his clothes off, practically stumbling around in the soft glow of the guest room lamp. he’d been waiting for so long. ten minutes. his hands massaged your scalp, washing it off remaining shampoo and conditioner. ridding your body of any soap, your shoulders, your stomach, your thighs.

and soon enough he pressed you against the wall, imprints of hands staining the glass. you were both unbearably needy, messy kisses and desperate touches. you revelled in his grasp, you felt as if your skin was on fire. “y/n, please.” he whined. you giggled at his begging, “please what coryo?” you stroked his dick as he groaned out, “suck me off. now.” you laughed at his words, “pretty bossy for someone who was whining like a little bitch two seconds ago.” he was about to protest but your warm mouth on him seemed to shut up all forms of protest.

“oh god.” he leaned his head back on the wall as you dug your nails into the back of his thighs. the water pouring down on the two of you made coryo glisten, his abs looking especially sweet. droplets of water fell down from his hair onto you.

as if you weren’t enough the view of you on your knees, your tuts on display was more than enough for him to explode down your throat. “fuck, when did you learn to do this slut? you been practicing f’me?” his attempt at regaining control had you suppressing your laughter.

but his hand in your hair tugging you to your feet, crazy eyes and a very attractive smirk? “only for you cory.” you wrapped your arms around his neck and gently kissed him, “all for me.”

“please, cory. i need you.” you leaned your head against his as he directed his cock to entrance, teasing you. “you want it?” you nodded your head vehemently, “god just please, fuck me.” he kissed your cheek before pushing in, “anything you say baby.” you moaned out at the feeling of him in you, filling you to the brim. you felt unbearably hot, between the running water and coryo rutting into you it felt like heaven.

you can feel the wetness dripping down your thigh, mixing in with the water, “messy girl, aren’t you?” your hands dug into his shoulders almost painfully, “jump up.” wrapping your legs around of his waist, his hands cupped your ass. his pace is unbelievably brutal, “such a bitch to me, making me look weak.”

you shook your head, “didn’t mean to, didn’t mean to i swear.” you mewl, hot tears streaming down your cheeks, as coryo lets out throaty groans.

“stop crying.”

“i can’t, you feel so good!”

“stop crying or i’m not gonna let you cum.” his hand tightened around your throat, cutting off your airway. the dizziness paired with his thrusts inside of you was absolutely delicious. he let up only to mark you before returning to it.

“not yet," his grip around your throat tightened as coryo continued thrusted into you, obviously chasing his own high. "you'll cum when i do.” please cum. you thought, please please please.

his hips slowed down as he groaned, “fuck, all for me yeah? all grown up, aren’t you baby?” your nails marked up his back as he grunted, the hot water seemed to make the fresh marks hurt all the more. coriolanus loved the stinging, almost as much as he loved your cunt.

“cum, cum for me.” you weren’t sure if your release came before or after, but all you felt was unwavering pleasure and relief. you rested your head in the crook of his neck, you were so exhausted. “you did good, so good y/n.” coryo praised you as he pressed kisses to your forehead.

“let’s get you cleaned up yeah?”

#coriolanus snow smut #coriolanus x you #coriolanus snow x female!reader #coriolanus snow x fem!reader #hunger games x reader #hunger games fic #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus imagine

[theonewiththefanfics]

Seal It With a Kiss (one-shot)

Synopsys: After a looting session goes wrong, Astarion and Reader have to face the music and confront their feelings. Whatever they might be.

Pairing: Astarion x fem!Reader

Genre: angst, fluff

Warnings: talks of blood, injuries, swearing, mentions of abuse, but nothing explicit

Word count: 3234

A/N: I have not played Baldur's Gate 3 (I don't own a PS or a PC where to play it. all of this is based on the info gathered online and through Neil's own gameplay etc. Please be kind :) )

The light was too bright. And the ground was too hard. And the pillow too tough and lumpy. And why did Y/N feel so hot when it was literally snowing? And, actually, when had it started snowing? From bright blue skies, might she add?

Slowly, haziness dissipated from her eyes, and the world around came into sharp, painful focus. The light was too bright because half of her surroundings were on literal fire. The ground was too hard because she was half on rubble that once was a palace roof, and the tough, lumpy pillow was a rock her head had smashed against, while the snow was ashes flowing down, covering everything, including her, in a grey layer of soot, the sky peeking in from the hole above.

Although her sight was clearing, a sharp ringing pierced her ears. Or was it shouting?

A shadow crossed the sky, and above her, she could see their resident vampiric elf’s mouth moving.

“ – were you thinking?!” Finally, her ears started to clear as well. “You absolute imbecile! Why would you do that?!”

Y/N just groaned in response, as her memories came back in quick flashes. Everyone was arguing about where they should look for another magical artefact, Astarion shooting down what Gale had proposed, Wyll trying to make a sensible plan while Lae’Zel interrupted Shadowheart at any given moment. A deep rumble from the depths of the abandoned palace they were in silenced them all, Karlach throwing them a worried expression. And then the whole building exploded.

On instinct, Y/N had pushed Astarion as far away as she could before the ceiling came crashing down on top of her. It was nothing short of a miracle, she had managed to survive. Bruised, battered, no doubt with broken bones, but alive nonetheless. Maybe she’d have to thank a goddess or two. That was if Astarion didn’t rip her to pieces beforehand with how furious he looked.

Slowly Y/N tried to lift herself onto her forearms, and for all his admonishments, Astarion was quick to crouch down and help her, putting his arms under her pits and letting her rest against his chest.

“Oh dear,” she mumbled, noticing a large bannister lying across her leg. “That’s not good.”

“Not good?!” Astarion practically shrieked, his hands tightening around her ribs. “How hard did you hit your fucking head? This is so beyond not good I can’t even think of a level!”

Y/N winced at his tone. “Can you stop shouting, please? Gods, my head is splitting.”

“Oh, is it now? It would be quite the fucking miracle if it wasn’t, seeing as a whole fucking palace just toppled on you!”

“Quit being so dramatic and help get that thing off me! Where’re the rest?”

“Frankly, I don’t fucking care right now!” Astarion gently laid Y/N back down and went to the large boulder.

His arms strained as he lifted the piece of the pillar, her eyes widening at the display of strength.

She sometimes forgot how strong Astarion actually was, how easily he could snap her neck with just a twist of his hands if he so wished while Y/N allowed him to drink from her. But he was always gentle instead, with how he held her nape, fingers soothingly pressing into her scalp and knuckles brushing against her collarbones once he was done in a sweet gesture of thanks.

As quickly as she could, Y/N scooted from under the rubble, Astarion dropping the boulder back unceremoniously, and he was back by her side in a second, an arm wrapping around her waist, so she could lean on him.

“We have to find the others,” Y/N hissed as she stood. Her whole body screamed in pain, but they had to get out of the now-ruined palace, lest another explosion happen.

“They can find their own way out,” Astarion grunted, as he led them towards the exit.

“Astarion!”

“No!” He snapped his head to look at Y/N, and his scarlet eyes held such a desperate gaze in them, that she pinched her lips shut. “I will knock you out if I have to. I am not letting you get hurt again.”

“Astarion, they’re our friends,” Y/N’s voice was gentle. “We have to help them if we can.”

For a moment, Astarion truly looked like he might just throw her over his shoulder and march out of the place. But then he sighed, hanging his head in defeat before looking at her with pain distorting his features. “Why do you always have to be so good?”

Something tugged at her heart. That expression on his face, as if it physically put him in agony to lead them around the ruined palace in search of their companions, as he flinched and tightened his hold on her whenever something crackled, ready to throw his own body atop hers, in case something happened. It wasn’t selfishness, not one bit. Something deeper lay beneath Astarion’s reluctance.

It took them a while to find their party, but luckily no one was injured, and Y/N was the worst one off.  Shadowheart was by her side in an instant, giving her a healing potion.

“Should keep you set until we get back to camp.” She patted her shoulder. “I’ll heal you fully once we’re out of immediate danger.”

“Thank you.” Y/N smiled at the cleric.

She was just about to ask Astarion whether he was alright, but the vampire had already detached himself and was glaring at the ground, arms crossed over his chest ten feet away from her.

Y/N couldn’t deny – it stung. He’d been so worried just a few moments ago, yet now he couldn’t even look at her?

Her feet worked on their own accord, moving in his direction, but the way he turned his back to her, told her all she needed to know – he didn’t want to talk.

Pain shot through her heart, and it was definitely not because of the explosion, but Y/N respected his privacy, so she didn’t approach him any further, even though they always, always, walked next to one another.

“We should head back,” she spoke up, eyes remaining on Astarion’s taut back. “Maybe get some rest as well. We still have tomorrow anyway to search this place.”

When Astarion left the palace without even waiting to see if anyone was following, Y/N could do nothing but sigh and depart as well.

The walk to where they’d set up their camp was uncharacteristically quiet, especially from the pale elf’s side. He’d usually fill their travels with mindless talk and sarcastic quips, but this time around, he hung towards the back of their group and was as mum as a grave. He didn’t even comment on whatever Gale was saying, which made Y/N all the more uneasy.

She couldn’t wrap her mind around why he’d become so distant all of a sudden. What’d happened at the palace was nothing unusual. They risked their lives on the daily, saving others and themselves, so why in the world was Astarion so pissed about this, she had no clue.

Karlach leaned to the side, watching as the vampire entered his tent, closing the laces immediately. “Fangs is quite in a bad mood. Anything we should know about, soldier?”

Y/N huffed. “Probably broke a nail or something. In any case – nothing important enough to be acting the way he is.”

“Maybe I should go and – “

She put a palm on Karlach’s shoulder, stopping her, and giving her friend a wry smile. “I’ll talk to him. Better he’s angry at me and only me, not someone else as well. Apparently, I’ve pissed him off as is.”

“You sure?” the tiefling asked.

“Yeah.” Y/N nodded. “I think we need to have a talk anyway.”

With a “good luck” from Karlach, she sighed and steeled herself against whatever the vampire would throw her way. She unlaced the ties and lifted the flap to the side. With crossed arms, she entered Astarion’s tent, only to be greeted by his back as he stubbornly kept looking at a book in his hands, not even acknowledging her.

“Are you seriously pouting right now?” Y/N asked after a minute of silence.

“I’m not pouting, I’m brooding. There’s a difference.”

“Well, does brooding involve giving the silent treatment, or can we talk?”

Astarion threw a withering gaze over his shoulder. “What is there you want to talk about? Unless it’s an apology, I don’t want to hear it.”

Y/N let out an exasperated huff. “I’m sorry to disappoint, but I won’t apologise for saving your life.”

“By putting your own life in danger?!” Astarion spun around, throwing the tome he’d been holding onto his bedroll.

“Comes with the territory.” She shrugged. “You should know how it is.”

“Letting a whole building collapse on top of you is very different to knocking a blade out of the way!”

“Why are you so angry with me?” Y/N raised her voice, matching Astarion’s furious tone. “I saved your life!

“I didn’t ask for you to!”

She let out a disbelieving scoff. “Well, sucks to be you then! Because I was not just going to let you get crushed underneath all that rubble! Your life is just as important as everyone else’s!”

“Not to me! Not when it comes to you!”

Now that shut her up completely, her lips pinched in a thin line, eyes wide in shock. She and Astarion were friends, at least Y/N would've liked to think so. She most definitely had developed deeper feelings than that, but would only admit to it over her own dead body. The thought of Astarion’s rejection made her want to crumple into a small heap, but his reaction put thoughts in her head that maybe, just maybe, her feelings weren’t one-sided.

“What do you suppose I would do if you – if – if,” he stumbled on his words. “If I had to go on without you? If you were no longer with us… with me…”

“Astarion…”

“Do you understand how it felt to see you go down?” He sighed, hanging his head. “When I saw the roof caving in and then felt you push me away before you vanished beneath rubble and dust and ash… I’ve never been more terrified in all of my life, two hundred years of which were spent under the rule of an absolute sadist, where horrors awaited around every corner.”

His eyes bore nothing but pain and despair he’d felt in that moment. “I heard everyone else screaming - Shadowheart calling out, Wyll and Karlach making sure Gale and Lae’Zel were alright but nothing… not a single whisper from your voice. You tell me I’m pouting, but all I can see when I close my eyes is you… how you would look… dead. Your eyes closed forever, your blood spilling out of your body and I… I have to stand and watch as I am unable to save you.

“But I’m alright.” Y/N stepped up to him, taking one of his palms in hers, and squeezing it. “Astarion, I’m alive, and I’m fine.”

“But you almost weren’t!” he hissed, pulling her closer, bringing their clasped hands to rest against his chest. “And all I would have been left to do was wait for the dust to settle and dig out your broken body. You would have condemned me to eternity without you… I just almost lost the person I love... and that fear is something I never wish to experience again.”

Y/N’s breath hitched in her throat at such an honest confession. “I umm I didn’t know you felt that way about me.” Friendship was one thing, but love? That threw her completely off balance.

“Feel? Felt? What does it matter anymore? Clearly, it’s not like it’s reciprocated.” He scoffed, back the mask of bravado and not caring, but Y/N wasn’t having any of it.

“It matters to me.” Her brows furrowed. “It matters a great deal to me. Why do you think I did what I did, exactly? Because it’s fun? Because I enjoy blocks of buildings dropping down on me? Because it’s such an absolute delight to realise - if I don’t push you out of the way, you will be in direct line of fire, and I might lose you?”

Astarion’s mouth opened and closed. “I didn’t – I –“

“No!” Y/N pointed an accusatory finger at him. Now she was angry. “You don’t get to play the "I'm in love with you" card and be angry with me. Not if you dare tell me how I feel without asking first!”

“You...” He shook his head, a crease to his brow. “You never indicated you held anything more than… friendly affections towards me.”

Y/N rolled her eyes and scoffed. “Yes, because I let everyone in this party use me as their personal snack each night. I’d say that should’ve been your first clue.”

“I’d say you’re a full-course meal, my darling, but I understand the sentiment.” And though back was his usual air of sarcasm, a deep vulnerability could be seen shining in his crimson eyes as he weaved a gentle hand to wrap around the small of her waist, brushing underneath her sleep tunic to rest against her skin.

Cold met warm, and Y/N gasped as a shiver ran down her spine. His slender fingers dug into her back as he pulled Y/N closer, their breaths mingling, and if they only moved just a couple of centimetres, lips would touch.

“I just – I cannot stand and watch you throw your life away for someone like me. The thought of your brightness being extinguished because of it… I couldn’t bear it.”

Y/N tilted her head to the side. “Someone like who exactly? Someone who I’ve grown to look at as my dearest confidant? Someone who I know will always tell me the truth and be there if I cannot handle it? Or someone who so deftly has stolen my heart, he cannot even comprehend it’s been his the whole time? Besides, even if it wasn’t reciprocated...” She played with the string of his shirt, “you can’t tell me to be more careful, to not save you when you do the exact same thing.”

“How can I not?” Astarion’s voice was uncharacteristically soft, and for once, he seemed to want the moment to reflect what truly lay in his soul. “You make my heart beat on its own. If I had to give up walking in the sun for the rest of my life, I would. As long as it meant you were safe and happy. I’d even gladly go back to Cazador if you were on the line. Without a second to spare.”

“Don’t you dare fucking say that!"

“But it’s true.”

“Not if I can help it,” Y/N grumbled, tightening her hold on his shirt by his hips, pulling him closer like she had to make sure he wasn’t going anywhere. “He’s not ever going to get near you. I’ll level the whole of Baldur’s Gate if I have to.”

“And I am being honest when I say, if I had to choose between you being unhurt or me being imprisoned, being used as I was, I would always put you first.”

Y/N was on the verge of tears. “You listen to me you pompous blood-sucking elf – you will do no such thing. Whatever comes, we both will get through it. And Cazador will have his head ripped from his shoulders, but not before I gouge his eyes out, and do every single vile thing he did to you back onto him. I will skin him alive and then throw him in a tomb with nothing but cockroaches. Let him drink his own blood and see how he likes it.” She shuddered, taking in a deep breath. “Your life is not worth less than mine. Don’t you ever dare think that way.”

A watery chuckle escaped Astarion, and his eyes brimmed with silvery tears. “Can I kiss you?” He didn’t dare lift his gaze, focusing on their intertwined fingers, resting against where his heart no doubt would have been rattling a crazy rhythm if it still beat.

“If you want to.” Y/N’s reply was as quiet as his question had been, but there was no teasing in her tone.

His eyes flashed for a second, but she didn’t get a full grasp on what it was she saw. Maybe surprise. Maybe gratitude? She couldn’t tell really, all she knew was that the emotion caused a pang to ring to her very core. She’d kill Cazador with her own bloody hands.

“I want it.” He nodded. “More than anything.”

“More than my blood? That first night you almost drained me dry,” Y/N’s words, though true, held no malice, only gentle teasing.

“And how do you know that first time I wasn’t trying to wake up the sleeping princess with a magical true love’s kiss? The feeding just ended up being a bonus.” He brushed her nose with his, and couldn’t help the way his own lips turned up as Y/N smiled.

“Well, this sleeping princess would’ve punched you in the nose, had you awoken her for such silly things. Besides, you did miss my lips.”

Astarion chuckled, relishing the way her body pressed against his. “But I am allowed to awaken you to drink from you?”

“Well...” She nudged his nose with hers now. “Seeing as you become absolutely unbearable when hungry, I think for my own peace and everyone else’s, that does count as a vital reason to rouse me."

Gentle hands cupped her cheeks. “Allow me to demonstrate then how vital a kiss can be to one’s survival.”

And then their lips met.

She’d never admit it out loud, for his ego would surely grow larger than it already was, but it did feel like a magical kiss of life. Her whole body sang as his fingers slid against the nape of her neck, pulling her closer, almost like Astarion was afraid she’d pull back, but she could never. Not when he slipped his tongue past her lips, and her knees almost crumbled.

Y/N had to tighten her hold on his waist to not completely lose it, and she could feel the smirk growing on the vampire’s face, as he realised just how incapacitated his kiss had made her. He nipped at the bottom of her lip and relished in the small whimper he got to devour.

After what felt like ages, they pulled back, panting, but not going too far as Astarion rested his forehead against hers.

Y/N smiled. “True love’s kiss you say?”

“It feels like it,” he mumbled, allowing himself to indulge in the tender touch of her fingers skimming up and down his back. “Though I don’t know much about… love… I’d like to experience it with you. All of it. The good and the bad that might come with it.”

“I’ll be here,” Y/N promised. “As long as you want me to, I’m not going anywhere.”

“And if I ask for forever?”

She let out an over-exaggerated, dramatic sigh. “Forever’s quite a long time, don’t you think?”

“Not long enough,” Astarion replied, a smile tugging up his lips. “It’d never be long enough with you.”

Y/N quirked a brow. “Is that a challenge?”

He chuckled at that. “I’d say it’s more of a promise, if anything.”

“Seal it with a kiss?”

“Deal, my love.”

Tags:

Everything tags: @palaiasaurus64 @supernaturalbaesduh @thatawkwardlittlefangirl @sea040561 @staryeyedgirl @deathbyarabbit @m-a-t-91 @maladaptive-ninja-returns @averyrogers83 @gallifreyansass @dewy-biitch @avxgers @unlikelygalaxygiver @magicwithaknife @ollyoxenfrees @bnhvrdy @tvwhoresblog @thatkindofgurl @sj-thefan @lestersglitterglue @im-squished @strangersstranger

Astarion tags: @spacebarbarianweird

A/N: my tags are always open, so just drop a message if you want to be tagged :)

P.S. do not plagiarise my work or repost it on other platforms!!!

#astarion imagine #bg3 astarion #astarion x reader #astarion #astarion ancunin x you #astarion ancunin imagine #astarion ancunin #astarion angst #astarion fluff #astarion bg3 #astarion x reader fluff #astarion x y/n #astarion x you #astarion fanfiction #astarion fanfic #astarion ancunin x reader #baldurs gate 3 #bg3 #astarion romance #astarion my beloved #baldurs gate astarion #astarion ancunin fluff #reader insert #neil newbon

[fairytsuk1]

sitting your pretty ass self on alexis’ cock while he’s on a call with someone who is live 😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫

teasing alex on a call ...

alex laughs boisterously across the hall and you smile automatically. even just knowing he was around made your heart stammer in your chest. it wasn't just that, though; you saw him before the stream, and he looked more than good. actually, he looked incredible.

he had donned his typical black and gray beanie that left black wispies flying out from under it. it's even better as his gold chain revealed a black t-shirt hanging low on his chest. was it getting hot?

"i'm gonna go live," he pecks your cheek, "be done soon!"

but that was hours ago! and the more you thought, the more you remembered how good it felt to run your nails across his scalp. to feel his hands pull you closer to his chest...

your feet were already taking you down the hall. before you knew it, your phone was abandoned on the kitchen counter. alex is calm when you slide into the room. his eyes lock onto yours for a split second before he's cursing back into the mic. then, "hey babe, what's up? i'm still live!"

he doesn't let his surprise show as you plop into his lap, "i know! been watching."

alex takes a moment to make a quick joke, but thankfully everyone else is too distracted with their chats to notice how his breath hitches. how he slams the "MUTE" button to snake his hands under the cotton of your tank top.

"babeee," he sighs as you scooch even closer, rolls your hips just a bit harder.

"shhh, i think someone's saying something to you, alex."

alex struggles to tear his eyes away from yours. you urge him with your hand to the mic and he throat bobs, "i-i'm here! i was just too busy playing the game!"

your hand palms him slowly and teasingly. his voice cracks slightly in the mic, and he's pushing his hips up into your hand. it's so sexy to feel him harden under your silken touch. the way he fills out his sweatpants is absolutely intoxicating, "fuck, go under please..."

he whispers into your ear with a demanding voice but you smirk.

"hush, just let me fuck you, yeah?"

the raw dominance in your voice sends a shiver down his spine. you listen, spit slicked hand wrapping around his thick cock. alex keens, fingers gripping the arm handle with a ferocious grip as he tries to keep himself under control, "fuck, okay, okay. please fuck me, shit...!"

"you're still live, and sounds like your friends are getting impatient, honey."

"th-they don't care, they'll think I left," and your hand twists around his leaking tip, "oh! oh my god."

"talk to them, baby."

"c-can't," he mumbles.

"talk to them. do your job," you suck a dark mark on his neck while pulling him out, "you can do it, baby."

his voice is shaky as he nods, eagerly watching a stream of spit dribble from your tongue to coat his dick. it feels so intimate the way you slowly stroke him with a wet click.

you know it's killing him. he throbs in your hand and his voice is more meek, more far-away, "sorry, i'm just a little--"

you struggle holding back your moan when you sink down onto him. your teeth sink into the juncture of his neck as he stretches your dripping pussy out. you've taken him so many times that's so easy, but you always feel the stretch of his girth when you take him for the first time.

"--a little tired!"

alex squeaks out and you can't help your quiet giggle when you plop yourself down in his lap. again, then again, and soon his desk chair is squeaking lewdly.

"fuck me, yes! feels so good. your pussy feels too good," he buries his face into your chest, clinging to you like a bear, "fuck, mami. you're so dirty, riding me while i'm live?"

" i already know you like it," you wheeze, hand ripping off his beanie to tug him by his hair into a lip-lock, "already know you love fucking me, fuckk! oh fuck, stretching me out so well."

it's so lewd how you can hear the boisterous laughs of his friends, the fighting and the jokes; all at the same time you fuck yourself silly on your boyfriend's cock and he practically drools over your tight, wet walls squeezing him.

"i'm gonna cum, oh shit! babe, w-wait," he tries to stop your desperate hips or clenched thighs but it's no use.

"wanna feel you fill me up, need it. needed you so bad, fuck, alexx!"

and you vaguely hear voices calling out to alex among your own. he's so close, balls tightening and mind hazy. he can barely breath as his lungs constrict.

"'m so close, baby. cum in me, need to feel you breed me," you wheeze, "please, alex!"

alex cums in hot white ropes. you feel him paint the inside of your walls and you nearly spasm from pleasure. it's so hot and your teeth tug his bottom lip hard enough to taste copper. your orgasm washes over you in a huge wave that leaves your every limb shaking. neither of you can even speak as the stream falls on dead ears.

it takes a moment to remember to take a deep inhale. your mixed releases spill down your thigh and leave messy droplets on his sweatpants. alex himself is no better, lips agape with eyes closed.

alex's eyes meet yours looking like swirls of honey. you know he's feeling vulnerable, feeling sensitive. your hand cards down his face and you leave soft pecks on his freckles.

"that was... baby, that was insane."

"i know, baby boy. you did so good for me. i fucking love fucking you."

alex giggles a shy laugh into your cleavage. another person calls out to alex, and finally he's regathered enough energy to sit up and unmute.

"yeah, i gotta go! yeah, yeah, i'm fine. i just," he pauses, "i just had to take care of something for a sec."

#quackity imagine #quackity scenario #quackity x reader #quackity x you #quackity x y/n #quackity fanfic #quackityhq x reader #quackity smut #quackityhq smut #quackity thirst

[emsgoodthinkin]

Shy my ass | steve harrington x f!reader

wow, staring at him now I never noticed before just how perfect it is. I mean sure yeah eveything about him is perfect i love all of him but, his nose oh wow, his nose how I could just—

‘you alright’?

‘huh? yes why is something wrong?’

‘nothings wrong pretty, you just zoned out for a bit’

‘oh! I’m alright must be the..weather?’ you wince at that poor lie. it never worked in movies why would it work now

‘well, if you’re sure baby. he kisses you with those plush lips and you leaned in to get a deeper feeling of them; maybe for a closer feeling for his nose against your face also

‘mm,eager?’

‘oh my, I-sorry’—

‘It’s okay I liked it baby’ he pecks you one more time

‘now as i was saying; robin was gushing all over about how Jenny at the mall asked her—

I swear I’m not being rude he’s not boring in any way but..the way he scrunches his nose when he smiles telling a story, the bridge curves just right for me rub my clit on—

‘y/n!?’

‘what!? sorry!’

‘you’re not looking into my eyes when I’m talking, you keep looking at my nose; why?’

Crap crap crap—

‘shy girl tell me what’s on your mind’

‘I um- well I just think it’s pretty to look at is all’ you whisper

He pulls your face closer to his to look into his eyes. ‘ what’s pretty about my nose sweetness?’

You turn beet-red which didn’t go unnoticed while he places you on his lap

‘shy girl, why do you like my nose so much hm? you know I’ll get the answer outta ya one way or another’

you squirm. you aren’t good at eye contact you never were. he knows how it makes you nervous but; he knows deep down how wet it actually gets you.

‘I t-told you I think it’s pretty and there’s little freckles on it…and..’

‘..anddd?’

‘And- and I feel like it would um-feel goodtositon— you rush out that last part in a whisper

he says nothing but licks his lips and pouts saying ‘you wanna rub that pretty little clit of yours on my big nose baby?’

your eyes not meeting his anymore

‘uh,uh look at me and tell me..is that what you want?’

‘yess it’s what I want stevie.’ you stare back at him lips trembling. He can’t stand looking that shy pout of yours as he shoves his lips onto yours slipping his tongue into your mouth making you moan.

‘cmon baby, stand up for sec’ you allow space for him to rip his shirt off and your already soaked lavender panties off as he lays flat.

‘come sit on my face baby, let daddy take care of you dirty girl’

‘Im not’ you blush hard under his gaze. it’s not that you didn’t like his degradation, it’s that you’re so sheltered with such whore undertones only Steve has discovered.

Climbing on top; he can already smell your arousal making his cock grow harder but he can take care of himself later. He’s determined to watch his baby girl dive into her little fantasy of hers.

His strong arms making your thighs callapse on top of his face he seems more eager than you already—

‘it’s okay baby, ride my nose baby just like you wanted make yourself feel good’

still feeling shy under his gaze he helps you out a little bit giving you some kitten licks; with some airy gasps—

‘steve oh-ohh oh my goodness oh my goodness yes mm—

‘that’s it baby just enjoy the feeling I got you’

grinding a little bit in circles now he helps angle your hips so now your clit is directly on the bulbuls tip of his nose

‘oh fuck yes yes FUCK Steve!!’

‘that’s it keep going baby’

Steve knows when you get warmed up enough when y’all have sex you’ll really let yourself go of that shy girl persona ; and once it starts it’s like you’re a completely different person.

Gripping his hair like it’s a saddle your nails dig in his scalp like razor blades you hump, fuck, and grind all over his nose

—‘fuck goddamnit Stevie I ca-cant shit feels so good—‘

‘look at you’ he says growling and scoffing -fucking my face but everyone’s sees you as an angel don’t they?’

‘ I am jeez— YES YES RIGHT THERE ; you’re yanking his head back and forth his hands digging in your ass occasionally, his tongue peaks out to tease you it’s all exhausting in the best way

‘you smell so fucking good baby cmon, I can feel your filthy hole clenching on my nose baby fucking hump my face baby fucking cum on it— you got it—‘

drooling, surprised your hips aren’t broken by how fast your circling your whole bottom basically on his face he can even get a whiff of your ass, he needs to pull his cock out ; he needs to cum with you. and hard too.

‘—daddy— stevie please your nose so good fuck’

‘cum baby’ he says squeezing his balls so he can make more pressure rise into his leaky red tip, jerking and fuckkng his fist at the same pace your grinding his nose—

‘shiitt, baby thats it yeah fuck this pretty cunts so G-GOOD baby gonna cum for me? yea?’

‘yes please please close fuck—gunna—

his face soaked more than a pancake with syrup; thighs on fire, clit swelling , and twitching as you cum on his nose nearly even in his eyes; he’s spilling on his soft tummy with a few large grunts and sighs

too weak to climb back off he slides your body off with his not so weak arm gazing. fucked out face, and her staring back in horror at his face looking as if she painted him with a hot glue gun—

‘don’t even apologize I plan on licking all of this off my face’ he says while swiping his forehead with his finger and sucking it

‘wait—‘

she sits up leans forward

‘what are you—‘

she starts sucking his nose like its her own personal ring pop . steves eyes widen from the confidence ; getting her own flavors off while making herself all wet again just from the act. she won’t tell him that though.

‘you’re actually the devil in disguise’

‘hey! no he’s scary can I be something cuter?’ she pouts

He chuckles to himself in amazement and admiration. This shy girl was so- scratch that.— Yeah right.

Shy my ass.

reblogs appreciated :>

#steve harrington smut #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x innocent reader #stranger things #joe keery #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington x shy!reader #big noses #steve harrington one shot

[moralesmilesanhour]

mad props! 04

summary: in the week leading up to the show, your grades begin to slip. whatever will you do... word count: 1820 a/n: hiii i rlly enjoyed writing this chapter bc some of the stuff in here has definitely happened to me lmao. if you feel up to it, reblog and tell me what your favorite song from any musical is in the tags! songs mentioned: 'Chip On My Shoulder' - Legally Blonde the Musical (Original Broadway Cast Recording) prev next

“Max, you’re a little flat, hun.”

The choir director pulled her shawl tightly around her as Max–the chosen casting for Emmett Forrest–ran through some of his sung lines for ‘Chip On My Shoulder’. 

The brown-skinned, dark-haired boy was an excellent actor; he breathed life into the words on the script and delivered them with all the earnestness and humor required to play Emmett. Hell, he even improvised his own jokes.

But he couldn’t hold a note to save his life. 

For some lines, Max could get away with half-singing, half-talking, but he was practically tone-deaf once the song got more involved. The choir director–Ms. Johnson–had to be called in to help get him somewhere that was at least within the ballpark of the correct pitch. His high notes remained painful to all present in the room, no matter what she did.

You huffed from your spot on the fake park bench, resisting the urge to scratch your scalp beneath the itchy wig. Everyone had heard the exact melody on the piano by now. Hear it, sing it. Like Spanish vocabulary, you couldn’t comprehend how people got that sort of thing wrong.

Harmonizing with Max went about as expected; you lost your place several times because of the distracting dissonance between your voice and his, like hearing a parrot and an eagle squawk at the same time.

Regardless, it was too late to recast Max now. He had a leading role with too many songs and lines to memorize. 

“Alright, take five!” the director yelled with a clap of her hands. 

A collective sigh could be heard as students dispersed for their well-earned water and bathroom breaks, the tension in the air dissipating. You stepped carefully off of the stage, when you heard a snicker in your direction.

Miles was in the middle of painting a cardboard sorority building in an obnoxious shade of hot pink, shaded with strokes of fuchsia and cyan that managed to work together somehow. You frowned at the fact that you couldn’t say anything bad about it.

The boy struggled to hold back a laugh, looking up as you stood over him with crossed arms.

“Something funny?”

Miles stood to meet your eyes, carelessly wiping bits of paint onto his pants.

“That frumpy-ass 613 wig you got on, for one,” he replied with a teasing grin. “Are you gonna wear that for the actual show?”

You rolled your eyes.

“No, for your information, I’m not. This is a placeholder wig,” you ripped it off of your head for emphasis. “Why are you even here, anyway? Don’t you got posters to make?”

In actuality, you knew about the art club lending some of its members to paint sets for the show. But you wanted to make sure Miles knew he was unwelcome.

“Just doin’ what I do best,” he shrugged. “You should be grateful for my sacrifice.”

You snorted, “What ‘sacrifice’?”

Miles jabbed his thumb behind him towards the left side of the stage, where Max was going over his lines. “I gotta listen to that nigga sing for over an hour. I’m sacrificing my time and my ears.”

Despite yourself, you laughed brightly at the comment, causing a more genuine smile to spread across Miles’ face. You looked pretty when you laughed.

“Oh my god, he sucks, right? Spent the whole damn song looking for the note.”

“Too late to replace him now, though. Show’s in two weeks.”

You nodded.

There was a brief pause before Miles asked, “So what made you sign up for theater? I was kinda surprised to see you on a stage.”

You gave him a wary look. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing,” he raised both hands in defense, “You just seemed like more of the quiet type, that’s all.”

I signed up to avoid you, you thought, but didn’t say aloud; That would’ve given him the satisfaction of knowing that you thought about him that much.

Instead, you answered, “I used to do theater at my old school. Got the lead part most of the time, if you can believe it.”

There was an arrogance in your voice as you said that last bit that soured Miles’ expression. 

“I believe you, no need to convince me,” he said flatly. “Legally Blonde’s an interesting choice, though.”

You shrugged, “The part really lets me show my voice off, so...”

“Showin’ off,” Miles muttered beneath his breath, “Sounds like you.”

“Excuse me?”

Before you could start to argue, his eyes went wide, like he’d just heard a noise that no one else could hear.

“It was really nice talking to you, Y/N, but I gotta go,” he said, spinning on his heel and bolting towards the auditorium door. “Watch my stuff for me!”

Your jaw dropped in offense. Was he allowed to just bail on a club activity like that? And with the gall to ask you to watch his things for him. You totally did, though.

Once you got home, your feet throbbed and your muscles ached from all of the choreography. You were just barely out of your school uniform when you decided to lie down for a quick nap. Or what you thought was a ‘quick nap’.

The blaring of your alarm made your heart jump as your eyes flew open, half of your face damp with drool. The early morning washed over your room in a pale blue shade, and the sight would’ve relaxed you if not for the sudden realization that you weren’t in your pajamas.

You shot up, wiping the side of your face with your sleeve. Your Spanish and AP Physics notebooks were still strewn across your bed, along with several worksheets that had remained blank. Unfinished.

…Oh no.

Your heart was practically in your throat when you explained to Mr. Sanchez why you didn’t have any homework for him to collect. 

The man noticed your glassy eyes, and held up a reassuring hand in the middle of your frantic explanation.

“That’s fine, it happens,” he said gently, “Just bring in the missing work tomorrow, and it’ll only be ten points off. Don’t make it a habit.”

He adjusted his glasses, and returned to grading the pile of worksheets on his desk as you trudged back to your desk, a pit forming in your stomach over those precious ten points.

“You good?” Miles asked as you sat down, concern coloring his features. He ran a finger over a small band-aid on his right temple. “You look like you’re about to cry.”

You buried your face in your arms on the desk.

“Nunya.”

He sighed, “I dunno why I even asked.”

Unfortunately for both you and Mr. Sanchez, missing assignments did, in fact, become a habit. 

You began to spend more time lingering in the auditorium after everyone had left, practicing your line delivery. Adding little details, like extra hair flips or twirls. The spirit of Elle Woods had practically taken over your body.

You got home later and later into the evening, sometimes flopping down onto your bed and falling asleep before your head could even hit the pillow. This new ‘habit’ had you scribbling down vocab words and formulas in a frenzy, balancing your notebook on your lap on the bumpy bus ride to school. The flashcards that you had made for Mr. Sanchez’s class were now sitting untouched at the bottom of your bag.

By Friday, it landed you in front of his desk for office hours after you received your very first ‘F’. 

“As you’ve probably noticed, Y/N, your grades have fallen a significant amount in a very short period of time, and I’m a little concerned,” Sanchez slid your weekly grade report towards you and placed his finger on your Spanish grade. “What’s going on? This is very unusual for a student like you.”

Your sweaty fingers clutched the sides of your seat as you stared down at the report. How did you let it get this bad? Elle Woods would never.

“I-I just…”

You shook your head. “I’ve just been busy with extracurriculars and stuff, so assignments slip my mind sometimes.”

“You’re having trouble balancing them with your schoolwork?”

“Yeah, basically,” you leaned forward, looking desperate. “Can I still re-take that quiz? I didn’t really get to study, and–”

“Oh! That’s actually what I called you in for, one second.”

Sanchez rose from his seat, and made his way over to the door.

“You know about our Study Buddy system, yes?”

You nodded slowly, skeptically. “Am I getting a ‘Study Buddy’?”

“Pre-cisely. Come in!”

He opened the door, and you almost groaned audibly at the lanky figure that appeared at the entrance.

Miles entered with a friendly smile on his face that dropped the second his eyes landed on you.

“Oh. You.”

The Spanish teacher sat back down and gestured towards him.

“Miles here is both a native speaker and beyond proficient in this class. He was so kind as to sign up for the program, so I thought it might be nice to pair him up with someone in the same period.”

Shocked into silence, you were unable to say anything other than a quiet “Okay” as you stared blankly in front of you.

Study buddies. With the guy who didn’t even study. This had to be some kind of sick joke.

“He’ll be giving up a bit of his lunch time to tutor you in my classroom. I’d also highly recommend you two study with each other after school as well, if you can make the time. Sound good?”

“Yes,” you both said in miserable unison. 

“Well, that’s all,” Sanchez waved his hand. “You’re both dismissed. Have a lovely weekend!”

“You too!” you smiled tightly as you got up and made a beeline for the door, nearly bumping into Miles as you did so. 

Your weekend would be anything but ‘lovely’.

You fixed Miles with a glare as soon as you got out into the hallway.

“I’m not giving up my lunch period for you,” you yell-whispered. “I hope you know that.”

He took a step towards you and fired back, “Neither of us have a choice, your highness. If we’re not both up here during lunch, I get in trouble, and you gotta take the L and fail this class.”

“I’d rather fail, then. I don’t give a fuck.”

“Oh?” he laughed mirthlessly. “You were in tears over a damn ‘89’. Makes no difference to me, but I think you do give a fuck.”

You opened your mouth to shoot back a rebuttal, then closed it. Miles raised an eyebrow.

“I’m lying?”

“...No.”

Miles leaned forward until he was only inches away from your face. “Then cooperate. Or we both lose.”

You sighed in defeat, “Fine.”

He nodded curtly, then left to go grab his things from his locker.

In a forced attempt at courtesy, you called out towards his back, “See you next week–”

“Whatever!”

taglist (comment to be added!): @vhstown @alaoraangelix @shuna-boin

#miles morales x reader #miles morales x black!reader #miles morales x fem!reader #atsv x reader #miles morales fic #earth 42 miles x reader #earth 42 miles morales x reader #moralesanhour

[danikamariewrites]

Hi!! I absolutely love your fics!! I loved Good Morning with Xaden. Could you do a part 2 of good morning so Xaden can finally have a good, refreshing 😏 morning with reader after he “drags” them back from flight training lol

Drag You Back (SMUT)

Xaden x reader

A/n: YYESSS!! I was looking forward to writing Xaden putting Dain in his place lmao. And yes Cadmus is back LOL

Warnings: smut

Judging by the position of the sun it was way past the hour you told Xaden you’d be back by. You were hoping that Xaden would get impatient now and fly out here. Dain was getting far too aggressive about offensive maneuvers and you wanted a break.

Landing on the field you knew this was just for a break and he’d have the squad back in the air. You jump down from Cadmus, returning his annoyed look. He huffed as you took a sip of water. “I know big guy. I want a break too.” Cadmus huffed louder, “What crawled up his ass?”

You chuckle into your water bottle. “I’m not sure but I’m hoping Xaden does come drag me out of here for once.” Cadmus seemed to hum and look off toward where the rest of the dragons rest. You know exactly what he’s doing, little bastard. “Stop that.” “Stop what?” He responds with an innocent tone. “You know what.”

Cadmus laid his head down with a slight smirk playing at his mouth. Liam and Rhi came to chat during your break and you all agreed that Dain is in a shit mood, clearly punishing everyone for nothing.

Before Dain could call you all back to mount your dragons Xaden cut him off. You turned, trying to keep the giant grin from your face. “Wing Leader, how can I help you?” Dain grits out. Xaden gives him a shit eating grin. He’d never get tired of having power over Dain.

“Yes actually. Professor Carr needs to see her,” Xaden points at you. Dain let’s out an annoyed sight, rolling out his neck. “Fine.” “Problem Aetos?” Dain glares at him and swallows his insult. “Nope. No problem.”

“Good,” Xaden pushes past him motioning for you to come with him, “let’s go sweetheart.” Rhi and Liam snicker behind their hands. Xaden is shameless when it comes to your nicknames in public. When you first got together he cared about keeping things secret. But as people started to realize you were his Xaden became proud to show you off on his arm.

You trailed behind Xaden while walking back to the college. Once the door slammed shut behind you he turned, a wicked grin on his face telling you he didn’t forget his promise. You jumped into his arms wrapping your legs around his waist. Xaden’s hands find home in your hair, pulling you into a heated kiss.

“Take me back to bed Riorson.” You say against his lips. “As you wish, sweetheart.” As you left kisses all over Xaden’s exposed neck he races back to your room.

Back in your small cadet quarters Xaden unceremoniously tosses you on the bed and starts hastily ripping his uniform off. You do the same, desperate to feel him. You did feel bad leaving him this morning. Especially since you had been craving him since you woke up. Xaden was all you could think about during flight training.

How he’d hold your waist while flying on Sgaeyl, fixing your stance during training, and your favorite, when he runs his large fingers through your hair rubbing your scalp. Gods you were soaked just thinking about his hands on you.

Once you were both bare Xaden caged you in with his body. He nips and sucks at the skin on your jaw down your neck and chest, stopping at your breast taking your nipple in his mouth. Sighs leave your lips and you hold him to your chest threading your fingers through his dark hair.

You grind your hips into his feeling his hardened length press against your thigh. Another sigh falls from your lips at the feeling. “Fuck Xaden, need you. Please.” He lets your breast fall from his mouth smirking at you. “Oh so now you need me, huh.” His deep teasing voice sending another wave of wetness to your core.

You shoot him a look that says tease me later. He happily obliges your silent request and starts teasing you with his fingers. Xaden spreads your slick through your folds and then coats his cock with it.

Xaden presses the tip to your entrance looking to you for permission. You nod and he slides in. A mewl sounds from you as you instinctively wrap yourself around Xaden. You claw at his shoulder blades and bury your face in his neck.

He slowly pushed deeper and deeper inside you. Xaden pulls out, swearing at how tight you feel around him. “Fuck sweetheart. You take me so well. Your sweet little pussy was just meant for me.”

The moan you let out spurs Xaden on. His pace getting faster and needier. Gods he knows your body so well. No one else could find all these parts of you like he can. Xaden knows just how to position himself to hit that sweet spot over and over.

Your eyes flutter shut and you bite lip as one of his shadows slithers over your hip to toy with your clit. The coolness of the black tendril a stark contrast to Xaden’s warm body above you.

You feel yourself getting closer to your orgasm. You rake your nails up his back and he hisses at the pleasurable pain. “Xaden,” you squeak out as his hips slam into you. Your moans becoming more persistent.

“Xaden I’m gunna - fuck - I’m gunna come.” His shadow starts moving faster on your clit. You arch into his chest and feel his cock twitch against your walls.

Your orgasm courses through you like lightning, “That’s it baby, show me how much you love my cock. So fuckin good f’me.” As Xaden keeps fucking you through your high your thighs shake around him.

Two more thrusts of his hips and Xaden was spilling into you. His thick cum coating your walls in spurts as he presses into you. Xaden drops his head into you neck nipping at you a few more times.

Your body relaxes under him as Xaden lazily brings one of his hands to hold the back of your head, the other on the small of your back. He flips so you’re laying on top of him and he moves his hips, sliding his softening cock out of you.

“Thank you for coming to get me. Totally worth it.” His chest shakes as he laughs. He gently strokes your hair, “I think today is a do nothing day.” He says letting out a tired sigh.

“I think so too.” You move up Xaden’s body and peck his lips. Then rest your forehead against his, brushing your nose against his crooked one.

#fourth wing #xaden fourth wing x reader #fourth wing x reader #fourth wing fluff #xaden riorson fourth wing #fourth wing smut #fourth wing fanfic #xaden fourth wing #xaden x reader #xaden fanfic #xaden riorson smut #xaden riorson #xaden riorson x reader #Xaden x you #Xaden riorson x you

[niqhtlord01]

Humans are weird: Interview with the Devil’s right hand

*Recording starts*

Interviewer: Is it alright if I record this?

Subject: Well you’ve already started so why bother asking me?

Interviewer: I’m sorry, it’s a force of habit.

Interviewer: I can turn it off and take written notes if you want.

Subject: Nah, recording is fine.

*Background noise of children playing*

Interviewer: May I ask why you chose such a public place for this interview?

Interviewer: It seems so out of place given your line of work.

Subject: Were you expecting it to be in some shady bar on the far side of town that holds all the ne’er-do-wells and vagabonds meet and scheme?

Interview: *sounds made of sentence starting and stopping*

Subject: Bars get boring after a while and I wanted some fresh air.

Subject: And what do you mean by “my line of work”?

Interviewer: Well, you know….being a hitman.

Subject: Been a while since I’ve been called that.

Subject: Personally I prefer mercenary.

Interviewer: Is there a difference?

Subject: I’m sure you’d be able to find any poor sod that’d give off a list of reasons and nuances, but at the end of the day we all just kill people for money.

Interview: I’ve heard that you have a preference for being called “The Devil’s Right Hand”.

Subject: I don’t actually.

Subject: But you do one job for a galactic dictator with a tad of genocide and the next thing you know you got a nickname.

Subject: You know how hard it is for people to just use my real name and not that cheesy nickname?

Interviewer: What is your real name anyway?

Subject: Francis O’Connell.

Francis: Never got your name by the way.

Interviewer: Mortica Preces.

Francis: Haven’t met a Peline since the resource wars on Nifelen II.

Mortica: You fought in the resource wars?

Francis: I did. I made myself a scarf from the all the sacred braids your people wore from the dead I left on the battlefield.

Francis: Was the only thing that kept me warm during those freezing nights.

Mortica: You scalped my people?

Francis: Only from the dead ones; I’m not entirely a monster.

Mortica: …..

Mortica: Do you realize the religious significance of our braids, and what it means to take them?

Francis: I did and I didn’t care.

Francis: You were my enemy and I was damn upset at your people’s attempts to end my life.

Francis: Thankfully the war ended and we can now meet here as friends.

Mortica: …….

Mortica: When you agreed to do this interview I had pictured this much differently.

Francis: I told you that I would give you my side of the story.

Mortica: You did.

Francis: Did you expect me to sugar coat it?

Francis: Make it like I was fighting for some noble cause and lost myself in the throngs of war to become the monster the universe now sees me as?

Francis: Well that’s just horseshit people tell others to make themselves out to be more sympathetic.

Mortica: So you don’t want sympathy?

Francis: What the fuck am I going to do with that?

Mortica: Then why did you fight in the resource wars?

Mortica: Why did you commit such acts of malice and cruelty upon my people?

Francis: Simple really.

Francis: Because I was paid to.

Mortica: That’s it?

Mortica: Because you were paid to?!

Mortica: You butchered thousands and helped rip a peaceful star system asunder because you WERE PAID TO?!?!

Francis: I was paid very well if that makes the difference for you.

Mortica: How can you sleep with yourself at night???

Francis: *pauses*

Francis: When I go to sleep at night I am greeted in my dreams by the faces of everyone I have ever killed in my line of work.

Francis: Not just from the resource wars, but from every conflict, murder, and killing I have ever committed.

Mortica: So that rumor is true for humans then?

Francis: Oh yeah; that bit is very much true.

Francis: Each dream is the same. I’m walking down a long hallway that stretches on far beyond the horizon, and lining each side like a decorative mask collection is the face of a person I’ve killed.

Francis: Some of them are screaming at me; shouting out their last words or begging for their lives as they weep.

Francis: Some have the bullet or knife wounds from their death fresh on their skin as the blood drips from them like a fountain.

Francis: Then there are the ones that don’t say anything and just stare at you as you walk by; their silence piercing me like a blade through butter.

Francis: It’s a bit impressive how no matter how far I keep walking I never see the same face twice. I would be walking for what seems like hours or days and yet each face is different.

Mortica: A fitting nightmare for one such as you.

Francis: Oh but I haven’t told you the best part yet.

Francis: Attached to each face is a tag, like the ones you see for clothing sold at department stores, and written on each tag is how much I was paid to kill them

Mortica: By the gods….

Francis: I’m not even sure how I remember that but I think it’s my subconscious trying to punish me for the life I’ve lived.

Francis: While I’m walking down the hallway I will stop every now and then and look at the tags and smile to myself at a job well done.

Mortica: I don’t think I can continue this interview?

Francis: Why?

Francis: Because you are just realizing why someone would be called “The Devil’s right hand”?

Francis: You need to grow up.

Mortica: Excuse me?!

Francis: I said you need to grow the fuck up.

Francis: I’ve read your puff pieces promoting military life and the benefits it brings to the enlisted.

Francis: I couldn’t help but notice you left out all the PTSD, the horrific injuries experienced on the battlefields, the emotional trauma of losing your comrades day after day and realize the only way to survive is to cut off any emotional attachment to your squad mates just to ensure that you have some sanity left by the end of the war.

Francis: Only to find out that even if you do somehow survive you find society no longer has a use for you so you are left to rot on some run down street corner begging for scraps.

Mortica: That may be what your people do with your soldiers, but we Peline’s know how to treat our returning veterans.

Francis: Oh do you?

Francis: Then please explain why one of them paid me to do this interview with you?

Mortica: Wh-what?

Francis: I doubt you ever spoke to one of your returning soldiers in your entire career, have you?

Francis: Too afraid to get the real details of military life in favor of keeping the status quo.

Francis: Much less than first grade Ensign Tublek Frent.

Mortica: Who?

Francis: Oh you know who he is.

Francis: He came to you after the resource wars, after losing an arm and a leg, and offered to give you the scoop of the century.

Francis: An in-depth look of how your military bungled the entire war and then cast aside returning soldiers.

Francis: But you didn’t meet him; oh no.

Francis: You reported him to military command, who then had him declared mentally insane and locked him away in some dark corner of your medical facilities.

Mortica: How do you know any of this?

Francis: See my government found out about Tublek and were very much interested in giving your government another black eye.

Francis: So they paid me to break him out of the medical facility and transported back to Terra for a live broadcast.

Francis: Job went easy enough and I was just about to hand him over when the old sod learned who I really was and slipped me a coin.

Francis: Can you guess what that coin was for?

Mortica: You would kill me for a single coin?

Francis: Having read your articles I would have killed you for the sheer pleasure of it, but a man such as myself needs to keep up appearances and the devil’s right hand doesn’t do jobs for free.

Mortica: We’re in a public place; not even you are so foolish to try killing me here.

Francis: On the contrary, it was the only way to make you feel safe and draw you out.

*Rustling sound and the click of a weapon being pulled out*

Mortica: This recording has been going live to my office. If you kill me everyone will know.

Francis: Eh, publicity is publicity these days.

*Cocks gun*

Francis: I wonder where your place on the wall will be?

Mortica: Wa-

*GUNSHOT*

*Screams of children in background and footsteps slowly walking away.*

#HUMANS ARE WEIRD #humans are insane #humans are space orcs #humans are space oddities #scifi #story #writing #original writing #niqhtlord01 #deviantart dreamup #ai generated art #dark story #devil's right hand

[intocleanness]

kill six billion demons brainvomit: the sequel nobody wanted, everyone groans at my bullshit

MAYA TEN METI

MATHANGI MANTRA “SLAUGHTER THE GODS AND TOPPLE THEIR THRONES”

lets talk about her for a minute. not like you can stop me.

Maya’s like Solomon David, she’s learned the folly of Sword Law the hard way on a smaller scale but the fact remains: she had everything and then she lost everything. Her entire life, she chased power. When she was a child she came to Meti, begging her for strength. Time and time again Meti denied her. She grew, the war of the demiurges erupted, she got the training she wanted alongside the street urchin-turned-swordsman Incubus. She became a god of the fractured world and returned to her master in all her splendor and glory.

And Meti destroyed her with a single fucking question: “Suppose you win, what then?”

This is where the paths of Solomon David and Maya diverge. Maya realized she had no answer for that, what would happen after there was no more recourse by violence. What do you do when Sword Law is no longer necessary?

She took Meti’s advice: she laid down her swords as ugly pieces of metal for idiots and built a house, learned the herbs of the forest and the taming of animals. She raised a family and was happy for a time. She learned the correct lessons.

And now we must turn to look at Incubus. Because we cannot talk about Maya without talking about Incubus. I apologize but it simply must be done.

The first word I think of when I think of Incubus is “desperate.” He needs above all else to be validated in any way whatsoever, friend or foe. He tells Allison “You need this” like some creepy dream stalker and Maya is only still alive out of hatred for him. It makes sense though, the first we see of him, he’s a feral street orphan that hears Meti and Maya and without hesitation carves his scalp to the bone with a rusty sword. Incubus fundamentally needs to be important to somebody, anybody, in any fashion. Present him with a rat, say “kill it,” and he’ll chop it in half without hesitation. He will do anything to be more than nothing.

He and Maya seem to have a good relationship right up to the moment she decided to actually listen to Meti and cast off the trappings of godhood in favor of leading a normal life. At which point Incubus thought “you can’t discard me. I need to matter. I won’t be discarded!”

And then he murdered her family and ripped the syllables of God out of her head. Then he tried ten times to decapitate her and failed.

Here is where I wind back around to talking about Maya. I don’t have a specific word to describe Maya, but gun to my head? “Hate.” Maya hates Incubus so much she has lived for thousands of years. Maya hates so hard, she can not so much cut as hate you in half. The fundamental principal of her technique, the Maybe Sword, is that the wielder can simply will something to be cut, But as she says, its foundation is in anger and grief, so it is a terrible thing to wield.

Can it kill a god? Maybe.

Maya regrets that she has this knowledge and wishes she was a simple noodle seller, just like Meti told her all those years ago. Incubus? guy sucks wish i didnt have to talk so much about the fucking stinkboy. hes an extraordinarily poor swordsman

#kill six billion demons

[cryonme]

𝐈 𝐍𝐞𝐞𝐝 𝐇𝐢𝐦 𝐋𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐖𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐫 (𝐂𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐱)

—Conrad Fisher x fem!reader

—summary: you need him like water, he thinks that you're alright. based on complex (demo) by katie gregson-macleod

—word count: 1.6k

— tw: very brief smut ( minors…. stop right there! ), mentions of blood and suicide (nothing actually violent or gory just mentions of it), lots of self deprecation, depression, swearing, alcohol. angst angst angst hurt with no comfort

a/n: ummm... sorry in advance for this, this one hurts lol. also… probably the first n last time i write any kind of smut lol.

song lyrics for reference:

I’m 21 The edge is razor thin Between being numb And feeling everything Good days only serve as relief again

Now I’m watching as I waste away my days And then It’s a cross dissolve It’s a scene I’ve played before And the leading role that I thought I’d hold Doesn’t listen to me anymore

But I’m wearing his boxers I’m being a good wife We won’t be together But maybe the next life

I need him like water He lives on a landslide I cry in his bathroom He turns off the big light

I’m being the cool girl I’m keeping it so tight I carry home while My friends have a good night

I need him like water He thinks that I’m alright I’m not feeling human I think he’s a good guy

But it’s complex It’s a complex It’s a complex I’m a complex

Triangular I can see them now Three points at which I let myself down I was just a girl What’s the excuse now?

Too regular This pattern I’ve been taking shelter in Reaching new highs When I was 19 I wanted to die

Now I just want to kill you But I don’t want to paint you the victim And I talk a good game I’d die for you just the promise you’d listen

But I’m wearing his boxers I’m being a good wife We won’t be together But maybe the next life

I need him like water He lives on a landslide I cry in his bathroom He turns off the big light

I’m being the cool girl I’m keeping it so tight I carry home while My friends have a good night

I need him like water He thinks that I’m alright I’m not feeling human I think he’s a good guy

But it’s complex It’s a complex It’s a complex I’m a complex

You were beginning to feel normal again.

Whatever sadness your brain had plagued your body with that kept you chained to your room had begun to heal, and you felt like you could see again. No thick fog of heaviness that kept you from seeing your hands outstretched in front of your face.

You were smiling.

Your friends had noticed too, they saw the lightness that followed you when you actually made small talk when you ventured into the kitchen instead of desperately trying to bury yourself as deep into your hoodie and hold your blanket as tightly as possible around you.

You went out for drinks with your roommates and friends. You ordered an appetizer and you ate it. You made eye contact with the waitress and thanked her genuinely as she collected your menu. You laughed about old stories and gasped and reacted accordingly to the new ones hitting your ears.

You were fucking normal again.

But, one thing you learned as you got to know yourself, is nothing ever lasted for you. 

The only thing that stuck around and made itself constant was Conrad Fisher.

That gorgeous, wicked grin of a man.

He had you wrapped around his finger and he knew it, he fucking knew it. He knew how you loved him so desperately that it made you feel small, pathetic. Nothing but a small fly sat on the rubber of his shoe.

But if you were to be anything to Conrad Fisher, you’d settle for a fly. Because at least you could stay close to him.

Conrad: can you come get me

You wanted to scream. 

You wanted to scream and cry until you ripped your own hair from the scalp and you wanted to flip over this table and smash every glass and plate in the restaurant, making everyone around you bloody and bruised but you wouldn’t care because at least you wouldn’t be alone.

You: I’m busy.

You shoved your phone in your pocket and tried to breathe. You tried to focus on your friends in front of you, your friends who love you so much and had been there through every unbearable second of the past few months. The friends who loved you through the hard times when Conrad was absent. Your friend caught your eye and her smile faltered.

She knew that look.

That was the “Conrad Fisher just texted me and he needs me and for some reason, no matter how badly I don’t want to, I have to go” look. 

Conrad: please.

And so you did. 

You told everyone you had a headache, something in your cocktail just wasn’t right and it was making you queasy. They all nodded and begged you not to apologize but they shared knowing looks with each other once your presence was absent from the table. They discussed how they weren’t angry, just simply so worried for what this was going to look like when Conrad Fisher decided to throw you out.

Conrad texted you the information of the bar he was at. He had one too many and he couldn’t walk home alone, nor did any of his friends want to leave just yet.

“Hey, baby.” Conrad greeted you as he unwound his arm from around a girl you didn’t recognize, and slung it around you. “Y’look pretty.”

His words were slurring and his eyelids were slumped and his grin was lopsided but god, the ache in your chest only worsened because he was just so beautiful.

You knew his friends probably made fun of you when you weren’t around. Probably talked about how lucky Conrad was that he had a girl so completely enthralled in him that she didn’t care if she embarrassed herself by continuing to show up for him even though he never returned the favor. 

“Conrad’s got a girlfriend with no strings attached.” You’d heard one of them say once.

Conrad had been there. He just simply laughed and shook his head, wrapping an arm around your shoulders and saying, “We’re just really close, that’s all.” And you’d smile and nod, words of thanks leaving your mouth when his friends told you how cool you were.

That motherfucker. He knows it isn’t true.

“Yeah. I was with friends.” You said, politely smiling and bidding hellos/ goodbyes to all of his friends as you began to turn, making your way out of the bar with Conrad’s bodyweight clinging to you like a weighted blanket.

But at least you were holding him.

Conrad didn’t respond. He just continued to stumble down the street.

You knew the way to his apartment perfectly, having been to this bar then back to his apartment multiple times, and it was only a couple of blocks. So you trudged on, trying as hard as you could not to think about the fact you were carrying him home while your friends had a good night.

Conrad’s lips on yours was something that felt so beautiful yet so deeply hideous. Like sipping on a delicious cocktail full of liquor and sugar, not caring about the headache and nausea it was going to greet you with in the morning.

You were drunk on him. Completely wasted, but you didn’t care because how could you even think about tomorrow when he was pressed up against you like this?

“Need to hear your words, baby.” He breathed against your skin, pressing hot kisses down the scape of your neck.

“Please.” The word slipped from your lips like a plea, your voice cracking pathetically because, god, you needed him so badly. You needed him like water to your tongue and air to your lungs.

“Good girl.” Conrad praised before he slipped inside of you and you cried out, a sinful moan spilling past your lips and drenching Conrad in pride. He loved the way he made you feel, the pretty noises he elicited from your throat because he knew the exact spots and movements that turned you into a mess around him and he loved it.

And when it was over he’d gently pull you into his bathroom, he’d coo at the whimpers leaving your throat from the sensitivity as he cleaned you up. He’d bring you a pair of boxers and a tee shirt to wear, then he’d turn off the lights and crawl into his bed with his back facing you, not even uttering a simple “Goodnight.”

You’d cry in his bathroom once you could hear his breaths deepen and once you’d start you could hardly stop. Terrible gasps and sobs would fill the dark bathroom as you released every emotion you felt towards Conrad Fisher. Anger, sadness, regret, love, absolute fucking devotion.

You would wake up on the bathroom floor from the small light from the crack of the curtains spilling into the room and you’d slip into bed before Conrad woke up. 

You would arise when he did and you’d smile when he rasped out “Good morning.” 

You’d start a pot of coffee and you’d make him his own, just the way he likes it. You’d leave it on the counter for him as you gathered your things, discarding his boxers and tee shirt into the laundry basket and you’d slowly slip on your outfit from the night before, knowing you’d have to endure judgemental stares and giggles from people passing by you on the straight because of the very obvious walk of shame you were trekking.

He wouldn’t offer to drive you home, why would he?

“Why are you sulking?” He asked from his position in bed, scrolling through his phone.

He went off script.

“I’m not sulking.”

“Why’d you sleep on the bathroom floor then?”

You froze.

“Excuse me?”

Conrad rolled his eyes. “I’m not stupid. I know you slept on the bathroom floor.”

You were panicking trying as hard as you could to muster up words, some kind of excuse, anything else besides the words that were about to come out of your mouth.

“I wanted to.”

Conrad raised his eyebrows. He didn’t believe you. Of course he didn’t, it was a dumb excuse. A dumb excuse that made you want to face palm yourself as hard as you could, hopefully knocking some sense into you.

“You wanted to?”

“I wanted to.”

“Okay.”

You went home without another word, he didn’t even walk you to the door because why the fuck would he? This meant nothing to him.

You meant nothing to him.

You were slipping again, just as quickly as you began to mend, your wounds began to reopen. Nasty, stinging, hideous wounds that invisibly decorated your body began to split, and you were nothing but empty and embarrassed. No longer human, only the broken and stained shell of the girl you once were.

All this pain, over a stupid boy.

A stupid boy that you were now sat next to, in a bar with all your mutual friends, being the cool girl once again. 

He had that stupid fucking charming smile plastered on his face and you wanted to kill him. God, you wanted to fuck him then kill him over and over again until your skin was tinted red and your lips were bruised. 

You never would.

Of course you wouldn’t.

Why would you want to when there was always the sliver of a chance that he’d text you, “I need you”.

It would forever be complex, the way you loved Conrad Fisher and the way he loved to keep you around. Maybe, somewhere deep down he loved you too but didn’t know how to show it. But, the possibility of him just loving your convenience and eager willingness to spread your legs for him, and only him, was much more believable.

A complex.

like i said….. so sorry.

tags| @iluvt4ylorswift @colbysbrocks @prettysummerbaby @gillybear17 @tessastle @insanelyobsessedwithdilfs @lilygreennn @allise4 @heyimadison @liltimmys @slut4fictionalcharacters

#conrad fisher x reader #conrad fisher fanfiction #conrad fisher imagine #conrad fisher #the summer i turned pretty imagine #the summer i turned pretty #tsitp #the summer i turned pretty fanfic #jeremiah fisher x reader #jeremiah fisher imagine #jeremiah fisher fanfic #conrad fisher angst

[elsfairy]

First date, compared to now.

Then;

• I feel like if Sevika has a crush on you, she's definitely going to be nervous about your first date. This was new to her, especially with having a crush on someone.

• For sure spends a few hours on deciding what she wants to wear. It shouldn't matter but it was her first ever date and she wanted to actually put effort in.

• Has seen how perfect you dress, and somehow felt like she needed to do the same. Just in hopes you would do on another date with her.

• Although you already found her perfect the way she is.

• Sevika is honestly drinking and smoking a lot before she gets ready. Time is of the essence sure, but she panicked. Which lead to more smoking.

• Her hands will become sweaty and shaky the minute she looks at you standing there. You, of all people made her nervous.

• She will find herself staring at you whenever she gets the chance. Still anxious, but she's making conversation with you. You just find it cute that she's so nervous.

• You just can't stop staring at her gapped tooth whenever she was talking. It was adorable. Although that alone will make her tense, she wasn't used to it. Also staring is rude, but she is staring at you constantly so two people can play that game right?

• Nervously mumbles out a small "you're just really beautiful" when you catch her looking at you again. It was weird, seeing Sevika so nervous around you. It was beautiful though.

• "you're really beautiful too Sevika"

• Panics about kissing you. Really does not want to fuck anything up, but you make it easier for her by just kissing her cheek with those soft lips of yours. Damn it.

Now;

• After your few years of dating, Sevika only gets nervous on some of your dates but not as much as she used to on the first one.

• Your regular seat is yes, in her lap. She constantly glares at people who look at you, but smirks at the people who wishes they were ones who had you, your love and your heart.

• You love to rile her up by telling her that she's "hot" or "really fucking beautiful". You never miss to tell her that, or a just simple "i love you".

• Sevika still wasn't used to the words, but she adored hearing them from you. Of course her own i love you's would be told, in private but that's because her private life didn't need to be in the public.

• She's not scared to show people you belong to her, and only her. You only have to rest your head on her shoulder and everyone knows to not try getting to you.

• Doesn't have to ask you what you wanted to eat because she already knows exactly what you like, love, dislike and hate.

• Most of the time, you just loved being in her embrace. Neither of you had to say anything in moment likes these because being with each other was more than words could tell you each sometimes.

• She finds it really relaxing when you thread your fingers through her hair, scratching her scalp comfortingly. You always giggle when she grunts. It was amusing to you.

• Will 100% try turning you on to an extreme in public. She will try literally everything. Jokes on her, you're always turned on when she's around you.

• Constantly whispering in your ear that you're her perfect "sweetheart"

• Refuses to let you constantly smoke, but will give you some of hers if you ask. It was a bad habit, one she had but she didn't want you to be hurt or crave it all the time. The first time you tried, you coughed for a good 15 minutes. Sevika needed you to be safe after all.

Note: My eyes burn, so fucking bad. Rip my already shit eyesight. That 2014 vision sucking balls. Pls just enjoy this, idk what im doing anymore.

#sevika x you #arcane sevika #sevika #sevika x reader #sevika imagine

[lyney-s-bitch]

Could I ask for Domestic Isagi hcs? Please and thank you ❤️

you can ask for anything my darling😌♥️

————————————————————————

Isagi Yoichi - domestic/fluff hcs || sfw

• absolutely needs his 5 minutes with you in the morning (preferably more than that tho)

• he will set an earlier alarm just so he has more time to snuggle up to you and just enjoy your presence before starting his day (will get grumpy asf if he doesn’t get that, rip his poor teammates lol)

• is generally very torn between wanting to show you off to everyone and keeping you hidden and all to himself

• he isn’t exactly "jealous" of you talking to other guys, he’s merely convinced that they don’t even deserve your presence and attention, especially when he can tell their intentions are less than pure

• whenever the two of you are going out, he’ll always keep a hand on you in some way, both to show everyone that you’re indeed his and as a subtle way to reassure both you and himself that you’re safe

• one of his nicknames for you is "my polished gem" (in reference to Ego’s way of addressing the Blue Lockers) bc as cliche as it is, in Isagi’s eyes you’re nothing short of perfect just as you are

• apart from that and the casual "babe"/"baby", his favorite pet names for you are "sweetness" and "my angel", which pretty much sums up how he sees you, even if it’s far from the truth (in your eyes at least)

• he insists on good-luck-kisses before each and every match if his team still loses he’ll just blame it on his teammates LMAO

• on a very confident day, Isagi once asked you to help him work out by sitting on his back while he’s doing pushups, but that backfired badly and mans got HUMBLED💀💀

• the funniest thing is him trying to comfort YOU and convincing YOU after the fact that it was not because you’re too heavy😭👋🏼

• unlike Otoya or Aiku, Isagi is not a player off the field, and he won’t fall for just anyone either, but when he does he falls HARD; he is the definition of "a fool in love"

• is absolutely weak to you giving him puppy eyes, he rarely denies you anything as is, but even if there’s something he refuses to do or give you… puppy eyes and a bit of whining will most likely do the trick

• you will often catch him just staring at you doing the most mundane of things, and when you question him he’ll say smth along the lines of "I just still can’t believe how damn lucky I got by landing you" (pls give him a "have you ever been shat on by a pigeon" speech LMFAO)

• on the other hand, if he ever gets into his mean girl mode towards you, you need to either A) sass him back properly or B) pretend to be genuinely hurt by his words to snap him back to reality and remind him that he’s off the court and with YOU right now

• has adopted the philosophy of never going to bed mad at each other, which normally isn’t hard with him at all because he’s a very self-reflected person that’s able to admit to and apologize for his mistakes, but he will fully expect the same from you

• and if you fail at that, he can and will go to bed mad LOL

• Isagi’s hair is actually really soft to the touch, and even though he usually doesn’t like anyone touching it, you have got free reign

• tbh he’s practically begging for you to play with it whenever he rests his head in your lap, especially after a long and rough day on the field; massage his scalp in the process and he will fall asleep right then and there, more likely than not drooling all over your lap

• has the unnerving habit of NEARLY emptying things and then putting them back instead of emptying them fully and throwing the package away; you probably once threw an empty milk bottle at him at some point

• he’s used to getting up early because he usually has to, but if you don’t have to get up yet he’ll try to not wake you when he does and just quietly gets ready for his day; he’ll definitely make breakfast for you too though

• before he leaves, he’ll always come in and give you a kiss to your forehead and tell you he loves you, whether you’re awake or not

#hope you enjoy <<3 #get ur mans #also sorry not sorry #mans is weak😭😭👋🏼 #at least he still got them thighs tho #blue lock #bllk #bllk fluff #blue lock headcanons #bllk headcanons #bllk isagi #blue lock x you #bllk x reader #isagi yoichi #yoichi isagi #isagi yoichi x you #isagi yoichi x reader #my writing stuff

[saffronimagines]

Can I request an Eddie x reader? They are best friends and the reader goes to a Halloween party in a skimpy costume. Eddie is crushing on her and gets jealous when she is hanging with Steve. Lots of Angst and smutty if you’d like. thank you!

HALLOWEEN

pairing: Eddie Munson x fem!reader

I DON'T GIVE YOU PERMISSION TO USE/STEAL MY WORK

Summary: Eddie munson has been crushing on his best friend for years. he finally decides to do something about it once he sees you with Steve the hair Harrington.

Warnings: 18+ SMUT MINORS DNI, oral (m) Jealous!Eddie. hair pulling. spit? love confession. Angst. mentions of wet dreams.

request: Yes/no

Word count: 700+

NOT PROOFREAD (I'm so tired)

Halloween was a very popular event in Hawkins. everyone gets to do something they enjoy, egg houses. eat candy and of course, go to Steve Harrington's party. a bunch of wasted horny teens would gather inside and fool around. Eddie has wished every single year since he was sixteen to be doing those things with you.

Little did he know, you wanted to do them with him as well, and you'd finally decided to do something about it. you put on a skimpy nurse outfit that barely covered your ass.

and when you walked in he knew he was done for. his pants tightening around his dick. he watched you chat it up with Steve and Nancy, instantly cringing when Steve flung an arm over your shoulder. he didn't deserve you, he wasn't that dumb.

the whole night he stared at you until the party was over actually, hours it was. when you finally saw him "why didn't you come to see me?" was the first thing you asked. "I was busy" he replied, you laughed and shook your head. "you were busy? standing here alone" Shit. you saw him standing alone staring at you?

"anyways...wanna get out of here?" Your voice sounded soft, he was sure you were drunk. "back to my trailer?" he felt your hand grab his, walking to the van.

the drive home, Eddie was only thinking about the fact you might be in a relationship with Steve. it made him want to cry. he pushed those feelings aside when you placed his hand on your thigh, the gesture was purely innocent but it made his mind wander.

now, Eddie's on his bed. Eddie smoked a joint while you sat on the floor trying to look for a lost earring from a few days ago. "yeah then Steve..." he drowned out your conversation about Steve.

you then realized he wasn't listening "what is your problem!" Eddie was mad, an unusual sight. you climbed on his bed "Eddie?" he still wouldn't look at you.

"Eddie!" you moved his face with your palms making him look at you. "you're being weird" glassy eyes looked into yours. "are you with Steve?" he decided to rip off the band-aid. "what of course not, his still head over heels for Nancy" you explained, smiling and shaking your head. relief swallowed him.

"Why?" you asked. "because I think I'm in love with you" your eyes widened, mouth agape. he gulped loudly, "oh" you breathed out. "I'm sorry I have no clue why I said that--" your lips eased onto yours, and after a minute you pulled away out of breath.

eyes staring into each other, he glances at your lips then leaned back in. kissing you again and easing you into his lap, this kiss heated and lustful. ranking your hands through his hair, a bruising grip on your hips.

moving onto the floor. you looked up at him, his eyes blown. lips were swollen, palm moving over the tent in his jeans. "fuck...I've had a boner since you walked into the house" his hands gripped your scalp. undoing his belt, then pulling down his pants. you kitten locked the base, all the way to the tip.

"Such a slut, on her knees for me" taking him into your mouth, fully taking him down your throat gratefully, his moans only encouraging you to take him further and faster. "shit im...gonna cum sweetheart"

"cum in my mouth" you muttered through breaths. "mhm, okay as you wish" and within a minute, his salty substance slid down your throat. you looked back at him, watching him look at you in love.

"I'm so glad you are not with Harrington" he laughed.

written by Saffy

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson #eddie munson fluff #eddie my beloved

[sorry-moots]

Inversion of Genesis But I Changed It

um hi. hello there. i'm not good at formatting. characters featured: scaramouche, dottore cws: none wc: 1,016

prev | masterlist | next

Chapter Two

They gave you a new mask. One with the Balladeer’s crest on it. It hurt like a–

You let out a hiss as the new mask, tangled in your hair, ripped out a couple strands. This was the sixth time that had happened this morning and you dreaded the long term consequences. Not everyone can pull off the chrome dome.

As you near the Balladeer's office, your mind drifts back to yesterday's events. The paperwork alone took almost two hours and when you finally showed up at Dottore’s office, he dismissed you almost immediately for having an “uncharacteristic excess of enthusiasm”.

With the free time you had, you brushed Apollo’s coat and cleaned up his tack. You were concerned about making a good impression and this translated to taking care of your beloved Clydesdale horse and cleaning your house, despite knowing the harbinger would not see either.

After nodding a greeting to the guards on either side, you gently knocked at the door, unsure of yourself. From inside came an aloof “it’s open” which you hesitantly took as permission to enter.

Before so much as breathing in his direction, you dipped into a deep curtsy. “Greetings, Lord Harbinger. My name is [Y/n] and I’ve been assigned as your new assistant.”

After a beat, you cautiously looked up but quickly averted your eyes when you realized he was staring at you.

He scoffed. “Well your desk is right there. Get to work.”

It was hard to suppress your wince as you straightened from your curtsy. I already know this is going to piss him off.

“Actually, my lord,” you started, swallowing hard. “I would appreciate if you told me, in detail, what my duties will be.”

You looked up again, this time holding eye contact, to find him looking at you incredulously. Then, he rolled his eyes.

“Every morning, you will let yourself into my office at eight o’ clock. You’ll sort through my mail, first by who is authorized to respond, my staff or just me. Then, you’ll sort them again by requests and reminders. Then, you’ll sort them again by priority. Got that?”

Normally, you wouldn’t have much trouble keeping track of what you’re being told, but the mask was digging into your scalp. Head… aching… “Yes, my lord.”

“Once you’re done organizing the mail, you’ll go through your stack. You deny anyone asking to schedule a meeting unless it’s mandatory. Then, you do your best to get me out of it.” He went on listing all of your duties as his assistant, but the pain from the mask was getting harder and harder to bear. I’ll just adjust it a little bit.

“...if I’m not here. Hey, are you even listening?”

You snapped back to attention, your hand returning to rest at your side. 

“Yes, my lord.”

*****

It was hard to relax knowing you had upended your entire career and would be working with an infamously ill-tempered harbinger who was known to kill his subordinates.

You didn't actually know if he was watching you because you didn't dare check, but you were convinced he was. Every scribble of his pen or rustle of paper had you struggling not to flinch.

The icing on this uncomfortable cake was that accursed mask. It's tight in all the wrong places, it catches in your hair, loosening makes it droop, but tightening it gives you headaches.

Just as you're about to excuse yourself to fix it, the harbinger speaks up. “When are you going to stop fiddling with that infernal mask? You've been massaging your scalp like a mother of four with migraines for the past hour.”

Your cheeks heated at the notion that, not only had the Harbinger been watching you, he was irritated by you.

Turning to face him, you said, “I’m sorry, my lord, this mask isn't as comfortable as my old one.”

“Then, take it off.”

The mere suggestion had your eyes widening. “But, sir–”

“Whatever unsightly visage you're hiding beneath it can't be more disruptive than you picking at your hair like a child with lice.”

After you removed your mask, the rest of the day went smoothly. No complaints, no yelling, the man barely even talked to you.

In spite of this, you let out a breath you had been holding the entire day as you closed the door to the stable behind you. The stable boy already had your horse tacked up and you dropped a few coins in his hand before you swung yourself into the saddle. You sighed as you flicked the reins. 

“Let’s go home, Apollo.”

*****

The clock had barely struck nine when both doors swung open, revealing Scaramouche. He strided over to his desk, sitting down in one fluid motion to assess the documents and letters you had organized.

I should probably tell him which stacks are which. This in mind, you stood from your desk and walked over to his.

“Sir, if I m–”

He cuts you off. “What's that on your face?”

Suddenly self-conscious, you try to think of any blemishes you overlooked or food you forgot to wipe off. He captures your attention once more with a couple of snaps.

“...Do you mean my mask, sir?”

Though his glare was menacing, he spoke softly as he beckoned you. “Come here, [y/n].”

Once you had stepped as close to the desk as you could without disturbing the things on it, he stood. In the blink of an eye, he tore the mask from your face, alleviating your pain but messing up your hair.

“I have little patience for people who make the same mistake multiple times,” he murmured as he studied the object.

With a strength belied by his delicate appearance, he crushed the mask in one hand and let the pieces fall to the floor in front of you.

He sat down again and continued his perusal of the paperwork as though nothing happened. “Clean that up.”

You were stunned but snapped out of it quickly. You uttered yet another “yes, my lord” before grabbing the dust pan that was kept in the corner.

prev | masterlist | next

#genshin impact scaramouche #genshin scaramouche #scaramouche x reader #scaramouche x you #scaramouche x y/n #reader insert #x reader #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin fanfic #genshin impact fanfics #slow burn

[msfcatlover]

Changeling!Tim’s childhood is... actually kinda horrifying, when anyone looks into it.

(CW for forced medical procedures, and abuse in the form of temporary imprisonment. Also, minor self-harm, and… I don’t know what you call “eating something that will make you sick so your parents don’t get mad at you,” but I know it ain’t good.)

Tim had pretty pronounced fangs when he was younger, which his parents were just planning to wait out... until he was fast coming up on 10 and it was clear Tim wasn’t going to lose his teeth. A quick x-ray proved that Tim didn’t have adult teeth to grow in, just the one set he came with, and the fangs were only getting more obvious. His parents found an orthodontist willing to yank the fangs & wire up the rest of Tim’s teeth with braces to force them to look smooth & even as he grew up. (The doctor kept the teeth as a curiosity, and a decade later Damian will track that doctor down to steal them back.)

Something even Tim didn’t realize until he had to undergo a full Justice League-grade medical exam in preparation for becoming Robin, is that the tiny points on his ears aren’t natural. They have no idea what the ears of the baby Jack & Janet received looked like, but Tim’s points are actually mostly scar tissue. (Bruce puts it down as “a cosmetic procedure not dissimilar to ear cropping in canines” and tries not to feel sick.)

(There was also a period where the Drakes did an awful lot of research into cosmetic eye surgeries, but they eventually gave up. Apparently, it was a bigger concern that their son might end up blinded than that his eyes glowed in the dark and/or were the wrong color.)

As I mentioned before, Tim’s parents trim his thorns so that nobody goes to ruffle Tim’s hair and realizes he’s not human. He... actually started doing it himself when he decided to become Robin, because Tim has seen Bruce ruffle Jason & Dick’s hair so many times and didn’t want to hurt Bruce (or experience the absolute agony of having a thorn get caught in Bruce’s gloves and end up ripped out of Tim’s scalp,) as well as not wanting to give away Tim’s own inhuman nature with the single most obvious trait he has. (When the rest of the family find out, they are horrified and insist that Tim stop doing that. Instead of hair-ruffles, Tim gets hair-strokes that go only in one direction, bumping harmlessly over the curved outer edges of his thorns; it’s actually very soothing for both parties. Everyone absolutely uses Tim’s thorns as a stim toy, as long as Tim’s okay with it.)

Tim’s parents also hire an in-house barber to cut Tim’s hair, so they can make sure it’s “properly disposed of.” (Tim’s nightmares always smell faintly of burning hair.)

Tim wears fancy dress gloves to all dinners, because with the uppercrust you never know if someone’s going to bring out the real silverware. (If someone tells him to take off the gloves or Tim’s skin happens to brush up against somebody’s jewelry, Tim just sorta has to... deal. It’s rude to rush out or refuse your hosts, after all.) (Fortunately, Dick and the Titans all prefer reusable plastic silverware. And as soon as any Bat finds out about Tim’s fae nature, Wayne Manor quickly switches to stainless steel.)

It’s nearly impossible to know if a meal was prepared with iodized salt or non-iodized salt until it’s already in Tim’s mouth and the burning-itching discomfort of coming in contact with an anti-fae substance begins. It’s rude not to at least try the food someone offers you, and it’s even ruder to just spit something out, especially out in public. At least Tim doesn’t usually have to fake it when he says he’s not feeling well in order to stop eating. (Tim doesn’t tell the Waynes about this until that medical exam, where he kinda jokes about being allergic to salt and someone’s like, “Wait, how do you eat? Everything has salt in it nowadays.” Alfred rather forlornly puts his sea salt up on the top shelf and buys a jar of iodized table salt on the next grocery run.)

Tim’s blood is immediately identifiable because it has chloroplasts in it. No, he’s not actually a plant; yes, he can perform limited photosynthesis. No, Tim was not aware of this about himself, he’s never been allowed to give blood before, and like??? Sure, he figured out he was a changeling, but that does not immediately translate to, “Oh, I should test my blood for plant cells!”

Tim’s room doesn’t look any different from any other boy his age... except for three nails over the door on the outside. For the iron horseshoe Tim’s parents hang there sometimes, when they don’t want him to bother them or when he’s grounded. (Thankfully, it's been very rare for Tim to actually be trapped in his room, as setting up a salt line on his windowsills has always been... well, he's not sure. A step too far, even for his parents? A step too many to remember and/or perform in the heat of the moment? Something they don’t even realize is necessary, assuming the horseshoe prevents Tim from leaving the room at all rather than simply crossing that one threshold? Tim doesn’t like to think about it. Tim typically stays in his room anyway when he feels the swooping nausea of it hanging over his door, if only so his parents don’t find him missing and decide sealing the windows is something they ought to be doing. Trapped not by any law or binding ritual, but by Tim’s own admittedly rare fear of consequences.) (After Tim is snatched by faerie hunters, Jason and Dick are the ones who search Tim’s house. There’s a moment of silence when they find the horseshoe and realize what the nails are for. “I really hope I don’t have to point this out,” Jason says, in the tone of someone who’s going to do it anyway, “but it’s never a good sign when a kid’s bedroom has a lock on the outside.”) 

#Tim's parents are bad in this one. Sorry. (I do like when they're complicated & nuanced and genuinely care about him but that's not this AU) #cw: abuse #cw: medical abuse #urban fantasy batfamily #urban fantasy au #fae tim drake #changeling tim drake #faerie tim drake #magic tim drake #magic batfam #magic batfamily #magic!batfam #magic!batfamily #magical batfam #magical batfamily #magical!batfam #magical!batfamily #tim drake #timothy drake #robin tim drake #prerobin tim drake #robin!tim #my writing #mine #// #Also #yes it’s ear CROPPING not ear DOCKING. I triple-checked.

[mal-urameshi]

Ladies, Gents and everyone else, my worsah.

Chronicles of Mama Okoye and Riri! XXI

A Modern AU II

“I didn’t think I would ever see her again, Namor! First, I saw her at the grocery store and then at the park. Remember how I was complaining about my supervisor and that I needed to go for a run? The Gods had mercy upon me!”

“If you smile any harder you may rip your face in half, Cousin.”

Attuma tried to school his features before answering, “How do you-” The grin appeared on his face again, “How do you know I’m smiling?”

“I can hear it in your voice. It actually sounds higher pitched when you’re happy. Like a chipmunk. Remember? Alvin and the Chipmunks you loved so much as a child? You reminded me so much of Theodore, though.”

Attuma circled the couch as his cousin rambled, “Do you want to hear the rest of the story or not, Namor?”

“I’m sorry, Cousin. Please, continue.”

“So, at the park, a kid ran onto the pavement and she almost got hit by a cyclist. Luckily, she wasn’t.”

“And here I was thinking you were going to say you saved the child.”

“Can you be quiet while I tell the story?” Attuma scratched his scalp and groaned.

“My apologies.”

“You know that you’re not sorry. Anyway, I grabbed up the kid to make sure no accidents happened. She was so cute and small, Namor and so smiley. I dunno how old she was, but she was walking so I’m assuming around one. Anyway. Almost immediately after, her mother comes shouting after her and takes her from my arms, making sure she was alright.”

Silence enveloped the call.

“Hello?”

“Aren’t you going to ask who the mother was?”

“I am expecting you to tell me, Cousin. Didn't you tell me to be quiet? I am honoring your wishes.”

Attuma wanted to roll his eyes at the smirk he knew that was playing on Namor’s face right now.

“It was Okoye! And the kid was her daughter! Her name is Riri, by the way.”

“So, she has a family now.” Namor hummed.

“A daughter at least. I didn’t see a ring on her finger. Her little sister was there as well, and from what I understand, I don’t think her and Riri’s father are together.”

“What makes you say that?”

Attuma shrugged and picked up his almost-forgotten coffee mug and took a sip from it, “Aneka was making a lot of comments. Remember how much I used to tell you she teased Okoye and I? Well it didn’t seem like she dropped the habit. Plus she can’t whisper for shit and I heard something about ‘You know who’ not doing so well? I don’t know what that means. I can guess the context, though.” His voice dipped and he drank another mouthful of his drink.

“Attuma, are you sure you want to get involved with Okoye again?”

Attuma scrunched his nose, “Why is that even a question? Yea. I still love her. You know this, Namor.”

“Easy now, Attuma. I didn’t mean to offend. I meant no disrespect. I just wanted to make sure. since there’s a child involved. You know that I adore Okoye. I just want to make sure that you’re serious about this.”

Attuma downed the cup, “I am serious. I’m always serious when it comes to her. And her having a child doesn’t bother me. You know that I love kids.”

After his conversation with Namor, Attuma walked to his bedroom. He threw his phone onto the bed and covered his palms over his face, “Okay. I can do this. She’s the same old Okoye. More mature now. Experiences have shaped her. No need to be nervous.”

Attuma sat on his mattress and pulled up her contact. He should have felt foolishly embarrassed for saving her name with a heart emoji next to it. But old habits die hard, he supposed. It was like instinct, regardless of having done it only once before. It felt natural, seeing her name saved like that. It was what he was used to.

He stared at the neon white letters that illuminated his phone screen.

The call button was right there!

He took a deep breath, closed his eyes and longingly pressed the phone to his forehead.

Riri had her palms pressed against her mother’s knees, fascinated by the faded scars. She poked and prodded at the skin before looking up at her mother with a smile.

“Riri,” Okoye groaned before taking a stifled breath, “Go outside and see what your Aunty is doing.” Her stomach boiled, which caused her to screw her eyes shut and hang her head.

Riri pressed a kiss to her mother’s head before rubbing it, “Poo-poo bad?”

Okoye loved her daughter. She loved being a mother. She really did. But sometimes she missed having some semblance of privacy. But if she dared to close that door on her babygirl, she’d never hear the end of it. From then until she came out of the bathroom, the house would have been filled with screams and pounding at the door. So she chose the lesser of two evils.

Okoye groaned again which had her daughter affectionately rubbing her leg. Rubbing her brow of sweat, Okoye looked up at her daughter once more, “To think the stink would have sent you running for the hills.”

Riri made a face of concentration before grunting, she then dissolved into laughter.

Okoye squinted her eyes, “Are you making fun of me?”

Riri went into a bout of silent concentration again before she stooped into a squat.

“Are you done?” Okoye tried to touch her but Riri fussed and slapped her hand away, “Okay, that’s a no.”

Once Riri was done, she called for her sister, “Aneka! Could you come get Riri and change her, please?”

The lack of response had her screaming for her sister again, “Aneka!”

“I’m coming! Damn! Who do you take me for?” Aneka grumbled while pushing open the bathroom door, “Bast, Okoye! It’s a shithouse party in here. What did you eat?” She grabbed the air freshener from the counter and sprayed it in Okoye’s direction and into the atmosphere.

“Just take her and change her, please.” She bounced her leg and slid her palms over the back of her neck.

“Riri, come on. Let’s get you changed.” Aneka beckoned her over, but the child refused to move.

Aneka shook her hand and walked further into the bathroom and grabbed up the child. She held her out at arm’s length before walking back to her room, “You think I forgot about what happened last time? You exploded a shit on me so bad the stink refused to come out. You’re getting biohazard treatment.” She made an exaggeratingly disgusted face at the child.

Riri, thoroughly amused by her Aunt’s antics, kicked her dangling feet in the air as she was transported to the bed.

Aneka laid Riri down and ripped her pants off of her, “You remember the rules,” she pointed at her, “No rolling or grabbing your butt or peeing.”

She looked for something to occupy the child and picked up a stuffed Rhino “Here. Play with Thabisa.”

Riri hugged the toy while she was being cleaned up.

“Alright! All clean. You can get kisses now.” Aneka pressed a kiss to Riri’s cheek and Riri hugged her neck in return.

Aneka found herself on a call with a friend while Riri walked about the room. Her mother’s phone, which was charging, caught her attention.

“Girl, you know I’m not scared. I’m just waiting for the right moment is all. What? No. Ayo only has eyes for me. I’m not worried about someone else coming into the picture- Pussy? I’m not a pussy! You’re a pussy. Have you even kissed that guy you’re dating?”

Riri walked back to the bed with her mother’s phone in hand, “Pussy!”

Aneka shot up from her relaxed position and looked at Riri, “No. No! Delete that word from your thoughts.”

Riri took a deep breath, loving the feel of the new word on her tongue, “Puh-see!”

Aneka groaned and shouted into her phone, “You taught my niece a bad word! Okoye is going to have my head.”

Riri held up the phone and did a little dance by swaying side to side, “Pussy. Puh-see!”

Aneka pulled the child onto the bed, “You want to watch Youtube? So you can forget the word? What do you want to watch?”

Riri sat up on all fours, seemingly hypnotized by the familiar red app after her Aunt put in the passcode, “Baby-”

“No! No baby shark. You want to watch Gracie’s Corner?” Aneka pulled up the channel and played a random video for Riri.

Aneka silently stared at her niece for all of fifteen seconds and sighed in relief, “Okay. I think I’m safe.”

Attuma eyeballed his phone as though it was the most offensive thing in the world.

“Just hit the damn call button!” He slapped his thigh to get himself into action. His thumb hovered over the call button before he chickened out. “Oh my gosh.”

Attuma jumped up and took a breath just as his skin prickled and a shiver ran down his spine. He took another deep breath to calm his fluttering heart.

Attuma looked down at the contact again. He closed his eye and hit the call button, “Fuck it.”

The phone rang once before it hung up. He opened a single eyelid and brought the phone to his face, “Did the call drop?”

He dialed again and then the same thing happened. “Is my signal weak?” He walked out of his room and dialed again.

Like clockwork, Riri declined every call that was coming in on her mother’s phone to minimize the interruption of her Youtube watching.

This caught Aneka’s attention. The incessant momentary ring of Okoye’s ringtone starting and stopping had her looking over at Riri. Her eyes widened at Riri hanging up call after call, “Riri!”

She grabbed the phone from her and looked at the caller ID, “You’re hanging up on Attuma! Shame on you for trying to cockblock your Umama!”

Riri started fussing, having the phone confiscated from her so suddenly.

Okoye walked into the bedroom, freshly showered and took in the scene before her.

Her daughter was on the verge of tears, while fussing for her cellphone, Aneka was scolding her in Xhosa as she held said cellphone out of reach, and her phone was barely drowning out the noise.

Aneka saw Okoye in the doorway and rushed to her, shoving the phone in her hand, “Hurry up and answer before Attuma thinks you’re curving him!”

Okoye barely had time to answer, so she missed the call.

Aneka groaned out loud as Riri slid off of the bed and walked over to her mother while giving Aneka the stink eye.

“You almost sabotaged your mother and you’re angry at me?”

Okoye shook her head, “Aneka, stop arguing with Usana.”

Aneka just rolled her eyes and flopped on the bed, “Just hurry up and call back your man.”

“He’s not my man!” Okoye walked out of the room as Riri trailed behind her.

Okoye was going to hit the redial button but Riri, fussing for her attention, had her bending down to pick her up. In the midst of scooping up her baby, Riri’s foot hit the video call button, which had Attuma picking up on the second ring.

“Okoye?”

Okoye had made her way downstairs to the living room while trying to get an excitable Riri to stay put.

Okoye sat down on the couch and tried to get Riri settled. Riri’s wandering hands hit the loud speaker, making it known that Attuma was on the line.

“‘Koye?”

Okoye nearly jumped at the voice and held up her phone to see that it was on video call, “Attuma! Hi! Sorry about that. Riri had my phone and she kept declining the calls.” She chuckled.

“It’s alright. I know how kids can get. I’m guessing she’s there with you right now?”

Okoye grinned, “Yes! The little troublemaker is right here.” On cue, Riri crawled on her mother’s lap to get in on the conversation. She twisted the phone to get a better look at the screen. Her eyes took in the features of the man on screen before her expression lit up in recognition.

“A’Tuna!” She grinned and clapped in excitement.

“You remember me!” Attuma beamed into the camera. “Hi, Riri!” He waved and Riri excitedly waved back.

Okoye pressed a loving kiss to the crown of Riri’s head. The display of affection had Attuma’s chest blooming with warmth.

“How are you, Okoye?”

“I’m fine. And you?” Okoye pulled Riri closer to her chest, but she wiggled out of her mother’s grip, dead set on turning on her mother’s tablet that rested on the coffee table.

“I’ve got nothing to complain about. I’ve been adjusting to my new job. And besides that park, I haven’t really gotten to go sight-seeing.”

“Oh, really? You’re missing out.” She tinkered with a smile.

Attuma laid back on his couch, placing an arm behind his head as a makeshift pillow, “If only there was someone who was well-versed with the area who could show me around town. And hopefully have a fun time with. Do you know anybody?”

Okoye placed a hand over her mouth to stifle her laughs, “Wow. Attuma…”

Attuma used the momentum of her amusement to carry on, “I’d much prefer if your suggestion had the name starting with the letter ‘O’.”

“Attuma. Wasn’t this why you got my number in the first place?”

“Yes. I just wanted to make sure that you’re still all for it, is all.” He tried to feign a careless shrug.

“I’m excited to show you around, anyway. I work from home, so it’s a good way to get out of the house. Riri gets excited when we go outside too, so I make sure to take her out as much as I can.” Okoye tenderly looked over at Riri as she shouted and clapped in excitement when she leveled up in one of the games she had installed for her on the tablet.

Attuma silently sighed in content at Okoye’s distractedly soft expression.

“Is there anything Riri likes in particular?” Attuma found himself asking.

“Hm? Like what?”

“You know, toys and stuff like that. Next time I see her, I don’t want to show up empty-handed. I remembered Aneka’s comment about Riri’s side-eye and I don’t want to be on the receiving end of it.” He joked.

“She really enjoys problem solving games. You should see her little face scrunch up when she’s thinking!” Okoye squinched imaginary cheeks, “And when her face lights up after solving a puzzle it’s absolutely heartstopping. I’ll never forget the first time she matched the right shape to the corresponding hole. She did the adorable baby dance, my heart couldn’t take it!” Okoye held her heart and fell into the backrest of the couch.

Attuma had to pinch himself from grinning too hard, “Now I know what to get her!”

Just then, Riri ran back into frame, tablet in hand. She climbed onto the couch and pressed a kiss to her mother’s lips before licking them.

“Ah! Riri!” Okoye sputtered before wiping her mouth. Riri pressed a kiss to her mother’s face before licking it again. Okoye pulled her into her lap and looked at the camera.

“I don’t know why, but she’s recently taken up the habit of licking me.” Okoye tickled her daughter’s sides which had her wiggling in her grip.

Attuma found himself laughing along with Riri as her laughter was so infectious, “I find it so adorable that she’s so affectionate.”

“I wouldn’t have it any other way, honestly.”

Attuma stretched, wanting to set things in motion, “So, how does Saturday sound?”

“It sounds perfect, actually.” Okoye concurred.

“Okay, then I’ll make sure to show you a good time.” He gave a lopsided smile.

“I thought I was supposed to show you a good time?” Her tone was teasing.

“As long as we enjoy ourselves, Koko.” Attuma chimed.

Okoye absentmindedly stroked Riri’s hair while staring at Attuma, “I don’t doubt that we will.”

Taggies: @somethingcleaverandwhitty @karimwillia @neptoons1998 @pantherheart @xblackreader @pilesofpillows

#general okoye #riri williams #attuma #mama!okoye #daughter!riri #mama okoye and daughter riri #attoye #okoye x attuma #attuma x okoye #fanfic

[sarandipitywrites]

NaNo update 11/29 (a big one!)

didn't write a whole lot today, because on one of my breaks i tripped and fell down a motionless in white youtube rabbithole (i regret nothing)

B U T.

i broke 50k words on The Art of Empty Space today! *streamers and fanfare* i still plan on writing/posting tomorrow (because why not?), but after that AES will be on pause for a little bit while i finish the second draft of Dead Roots, Dark Water and grapple with the Total Fucking Plot Overhaul that my brain sprung on me yesterday. so there probably will not be any updates to AES until… january? at the earliest? but updates there will be (because i'm actually really excited about this idea and think it will make AES sooooo much better)

so thanks for listening to me ramble; here's almost everything i wrote today as payment:

Lienzo tried to wait. He tried, but every moment of stillness scraped against his nerves like a whetstone, honed them to a razor's edge that ripped through skin and bone, leaving only tattered wounds behind.

He scurried through the chamber, plucking up all remnants of Baz's cooled rage — a splintered hunk of furniture, a gutted pillow — and piled them in the sitting area by the door. Baz could fix it. He'd fixed Lienzo's nose, his red coat, the hollow in his chest that told other people how to trust and be trusted.

Baz could fix anything.

Lienzo accosted Baz at the door, snatched the gauze and tweezers and ointment from his hands and ushered him into the bathroom to wash off the worst of the blood and the dust. As the water ran, Lienzo dragged a small table to the fireplace and set up their miniature clinic.

Baz had hurt himself over Lienzo then, too.

Even seated, he couldn't be still; his knee kept bouncing, his hands kept tugging at his braids until his scalp ached. When Baz took his seat across from Lienzo, he couldn't look up. He just grabbed blindly for the roll of gauze and Baz's hand. He had to fix what he'd done, only he couldn't fix it, because he'd—

Baz's hand twisted. Strong, black-tipped fingers intertwined with his.

The firelight flickered in Baz's eyes, dark and hypnotic. Beads of water glistened, trapped in the fine curls at his hairline. He pointed down at his letterboard, unrolled on the table between them. At one of the words lining the edge. "Stop."

"But... but I have to—"

Baz shook his head. He pointed at Lienzo. "G-u-i-l-t. Stop."

His teeth sank into his lip. Why? Why should he stop? He was guilty. If he had been calmer, if he'd been better prepared, if he could put aside his stupid, rotted pride for one godsforsaken moment, none of this would have happened. None of it.

"You. No. Control. Me." He gave a crooked smile, a single fang glinting in the firelight. He tapped his own temple, gestured at the fire. "Remember?"

"...And then you need to run into a blizzard to put it out." Because their bodies didn't always obey them. Because when Lienzo was overwhelmed, he flung his words like knives at everyone around him; when Baz was overwhelmed, the fire in his brain scorched him from the inside out.

Baz's grip on his hand loosened; he allowed Lienzo to turn his hand over, to start to wrap the gauze around his knuckles. "Sorry." He tapped the word three times, claw clacking on the table.

"If I'm not allowed to apologize, you're not, either."

A snort. Baz tapped at the bare skin of Lienzo's left wrist. "Mother."

Lienzo's hands froze. The bangle had belonged to Baz's mother? Or it was made from...? "How old were you?"

"Thirteen. Illness."

Lienzo should have wished her ashes safe return. Would have, had he not sold them for a couple bottles of medication. "Baz, I—"

"Stop. No sorry."

He swallowed around the dryness of his throat and nodded. He couldn't look Baz in the eye; he tied off the gauze instead.

"Maza. Sick?"

Lienzo huffed a laugh. It sounded hollow, even to him. "They're always sick. You'd think I'd be used to it, by now." But he wasn't. He never grew used to anything, no matter how hard he tried.

"Other parent?"

"Who knows where he is." He scowled and grabbed the tweezers from the table, began pulling the splinters from beneath Baz's nails. "We don't need him. Never have."

For a moment, Baz said nothing. He drummed his nails beside the letterboard, lip between his teeth. "Sorry," he finally said. "No believe you. Before. Angry. Sorry."

"Yeah. I noticed." On closer inspection, Baz's nails weren't claws like a cat or an ostrix had — they seemed to be part of his fingertips, hard and sharpened into blackened points. "But you don't need to be sorry. I don't think I would've believed me, either."

"Would have done same. If my mother."

Lienzo's throat closed. "You're not...?"

"Upset? Yes." He withdrew his hand, replaced it with the other. Lienzo began wrapping it in gauze. "But understand. Both." He took a corner of his cloak in hand, worried it between his fingers. The gauze was wrapped and tied before he returned to his letterboard. "Forgiven."

"...Thanks. I forgive you, too." This wouldn't happen again; they wouldn't let it. He would shield Baz from the whole world if he had to, if it would keep the fire in his brain from consuming him. Baz would do the same for him. He knew it.

He pulled the last splinter and set the tweezers down. Outside, the rain had slowed to a steady drizzle; sunset streaked through the window, sharpened by the prism of each droplet. Gravity pulled at his muslces, reminded him of the long ride. He rose from the chair, joints groaning. "I guess I should—"

"Stay." Baz looked up at him. His pupils eclipsed his irises into copper halos. "Please."

He shouldn't. He couldn't. Baz didn't mean— "Okay."

Lienzo cursed his tongue as he exchanged his road-worn clothes and binder for an oversized shirt pilfered from Baz's closet. He cursed it as he slipped between soft sheets, nestled into the mound of blankets. He cursed it until Baz's hand brushed his waist, lingered there in a question.

He grabbed Baz's arm and drew it over himself like a blanket.

His mind was quiet. For the first time since the blizzard, his mind was quiet.

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