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yandere-sins · 9 months

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Imagine getting isekai’ed into otome game as a background character, watching the main character going down routes as you live your peaceful, mundane life, but you’ve unknowingly been going down a route as well, a route for a hidden character that you didn’t discover during your time playing the game.

That character being the reason the game has a dark content warning.

Gosh anon, that idea is so good!!!! I didn't know it would tickle all the right places in my brain, but when I started I couldn't stop lol. Love it, thank you for sending it in ♥

If this had one of these super long titles that are tmi it would be:

I got Isekai'ed into an Otome Game as a Background Character and now I Have to Finish It with the Secret Yandere Love Interest!!

»»———————— ♡ ————————««

A serene smile spread over your lips as you watched the two lovebirds in the corner of your coffee shop.

Swirling the milk into a cup, it created a little white heart surrounded by foamy coffee, its aroma drifting into your nose. Had someone told you that the little things like a cup of coffee made with love and care were enough to give you the peace of mind you always wanted in your previous life, you would have laughed at them. For you, it had always been the hustle, the making money, finding a partner, and creating a family. Make everyone proud while being successful, whether it costs you nights of sleep or days without proper meals. But looking at yourself now, it all seemed so far away now, and you let out a content sigh before setting down the cup in front of the customer at the bar.

"You seem happy today," your regular at the counter noted, picking up the cup and taking a moment to appreciate the aroma just like you had. A smile sneaked onto their lips, too, after they took a sip, and you couldn't help but feel your heart swell with pride and happiness when they gave you a satisfied nod.

"I am! I'm really getting accustomed to my new life here, it's... been a while since I've been so content."

The truth behind everything that happened to you was something you couldn't speak about lightly. Not when it turned the life you knew upside down, leaving you to start over completely. One day you were an employee of a well-known company, responsible for sales and reports and everything stressful. And the next, you were in your favorite, cozy video game, running the coffee shop the main character liked to visit with all the romance options in the game.

Isekai was the genre that came to mind when you thought about your situation. Luckily you were spared the memories of your death in the real world, the circumstances blurry as you barely remembered going home late from work, only to wake up in this very different universe. Perhaps you were just comatose, and this was a dream. Still, by now, you had managed to slip into your role as the barista of the small coffee shop, a barely mentioned background character, just fine.

Your eyes jumped back to the couple in the corner, giggling and teasing each other over a group project, and you felt an immense relief you weren't reincarnated as the main protagonist and had to go through the years of studying and trying to establish connections with the love interests again. You already did that in your old life, and it wasn't as romantic and fun as the game made it out to be. You only played it because it got your mind off things, the art was pretty, and it had the exact amount of cozy time management you needed to relax. But living as the main character in it? No, thank you!

"Jealous?" your regular teased, and you chuckled, shaking your head. They tapped their—now empty—cup, and you took it from them, replacing it with some water until you had the next cup of coffee ready for them.

"I just think it's cute. I never had someone so interested in me they'd take me out for coffee and share their cake with me when I was younger."

Your words tasted a little bitter on your tongue. Still, you genuinely couldn't wish for anything but the main character's happiness. It was just the feeling of being loved, desired, and wanted that you missed, even though your new life was more than satisfactory despite you feeling a little lonely sometimes.

"Well, it's never too late to start," they chuckled, taking up their fork and cutting off the tip of their strawberry shortcake, including the big chunk of strawberry on top, picking it up and holding it out towards you.

"Oh, I wouldn't dare--"

"I insist! As thanks for the amazing coffee every time I come here."

Nudging your lips with their fork, you let out an awkward chuckle. It was okay, right? They wouldn't sue you for eating the cake they paid for, would they? This was just a silly little game. What could go wrong with you accepting their kindness?

Opening your lips, you let them feed you the cake, taking a moment to let the sweet and fruity notes mix with the fluffy whip cream before you were sent straight to heaven. Not to toot your own horn, but your baking skills had improved so much since you started working at the shop. Who knew you had that in you?

Occupied with the moment of bliss as you let the cake flavor mix in your mouth, you hummed happily before devoting yourself back to making the coffee with a smile on your face. Unaware of your regular fixating on the fork you had just eaten from, staring at it like it was some strange artifact. Your phone dinged softly in its drawer, and you checked it briefly to see the notification pinging up, saying, "Achievement unlocked: Cake-Master - Provide the most delicious cake to your customers."

"Excuse me!" the main character called out to you, stepping up to the counter, and you directed your attention to her, ignoring the little game notification you've been receiving since starting your new life here, the love interest not far away before the two began fighting over who was going to pay the bill this time lovingly. Of course, the love interest won, but you wouldn't have expected it any other way. Seeing the blush on the main character's face after her romance option told her he'd "always take care" of her made you grin like a little fan, and you cheered them on in your head.

By the time you returned to your regular, their knuckles had gone white with how hard they were gripping the fork in their hand, their eyes following the couple who was about to leave. For a moment, it made you wonder if they had a crush on either of them, their sweet interaction surely uncomfortable if that was the case. But you didn't remember there being a jealousy scene in the game. You'd know, almost playing it 100% before your death. There apparently was a secret route you never got but were trying your hardest to achieve. Now you were left to wonder what it entailed.

But the second you returned, they looked up at you, expression softening and the tension disappearing, and you chalked it up to having witnessed a cringe moment that they had gotten so awkward. "Thank you for the cake, that was really nice of you! Do you want another fork?" you asked and were met with a headshake and a smile.

They quickly began eating their cake and complimenting your baking skills, stroking your growing ego when they rubbed their belly.

"I never had a cake that good!" they proclaimed, and you laughed out loud, overjoyed that you had made them so happy.

"Say..." they suddenly spoke up again, leaning on the counter and watching you with gentle eyes. Your heart set out for a second, tension rising as you didn't know what they were going to ask. Ever since you opened the coffee shop, the main character, love interests, and this regular had come by constantly. If you were honest, you enjoyed their visits more and more. Their presence felt like it belonged here with you, and you were a part of something bigger after all, washing away the small, lonely part of you.

And maybe... just maybe... this was how your happy end would play out.

"Are you this nice to every customer?"

Halting your movements, you set aside the brew head that you used on the espresso machine, despite having to clean it, thinking about your answer for a moment. It was a strange question to ask someone who worked in customer service. Still, you appreciated your regular, so you didn't want to give them a snarky answer.

"Uhm, well, I am just trying to make everyone feel welcome! But of course, it's a bit different with my regulars! After all, they come here often, like a second family. So I guess I'm a bit nicer because you really get to know and appreciate these people that stay to chat and tell stories."

"I see," they muttered. "Family, huh..."

After that, you suddenly were swamped with sudden orders, excusing yourself to fulfill them, chatting and laughing with even the people that were just passing by. Maybe you really were just nice? Perhaps this new environment had made you more relaxed and gentle than the harsh world you lived in, and it was showing? But their question was shoved into the back of your mind as you kept fulfilling orders and earning your keep.

Once the rush was over, you returned to your regular, only to find their seat empty. Strange, you thought. You could have sworn that you felt their eyes on you the whole time you were away, but luckily, they didn't walk out on their tab, leaving the money and a folded-up napkin beneath their empty cup for you to find. You quickly stored away the bills, trusting your regular with knowing what they had to pay after so many weeks of the same order.

You were about to throw away their napkin when you noticed some red marks on them, unwrapping the paper to find a note scribbled in what you had to assume was ink.

"You're so beautiful when you laugh."

The surprise wore off quite fast, and you smiled, thinking nothing of it but that it was a nice compliment from your regular. Still, you ended up throwing the napkin away—not knowing if it was dirty, after all—taking the coffee cup and plate to the sink to clean them, overseeing the red tip on the fork that was too dark to be from the strawberry.

The rest of your day was uneventful, and by the time you were closing, you were tired and ready to tug in for the night, wrapping up your business at the shop quickly before walking home. You didn't have a chance to look at your phone since you glanced at the achievement notification, so you took it out, startled when you saw a dozen new messages.

Achievement unlocked: Happy new life - Be content with your new life

Achievement unlocked: A fork for two! - Share a fork with someone special

Achievement unlocked: Jealousy - Make someone special jealous

Achievement unlocked: Soothing - Calm someone special down with your presence

Achievement unlocked: Family - Have someone be moved by your words

Achievement unlocked: The nicest person in town - Be beloved by all, but especially by someone special

Achievement unlocked: Blood in the cup - Have someone hurt themselves at your coffee shop

Achievement unlocked: Wonder-Barista - Complete twenty orders in less than thirty minutes

Achievement unlocked: Strange compliment - Receive a compliment through unusual means

Achievement unlocked: Blooming infatuation - Have someone special fall in love with you

Achievement unlocked: Shop-Pro! - Close the shop twenty times after making a profit from your work

Achievement unlocked: Tired - Hard workers deserve to relax

You blinked a few times, surprised by what you were reading and a little weirded out by some of these achievements. They gave you some extra coins in your shop till and reputation with the townspeople, so you usually didn't mind them. But to say some of their descriptions were weird was an understatement. You couldn't even remember someone getting hurt at your workplace that day.

By the time you reached your apartment, you decided to ignore the strange notifications and just let the day come to an end with a hot bath and your favorite show. But you were startled when your phone suddenly began ringing loudly, even though you had turned off the sound back at the coffee shop after the first notification. The first messages that appeared before you were more achievements, and you stopped turning the key in your door as you read them.

Achievement unlocked: Follower - Have someone special follow you home

Achievement unlocked: Welcome home! - Arrive at home, not alone

Achievement unlocked: Wherever you go, I'll be watching you - Ɨ ΔΜ ΔŁŴΔ¥Ş ŴΔŦĆĦƗŇǤ ¥ØỮ

Lifting your head, you looked around you, glancing over your shoulder and into the courtyard below. No one was out; everyone was at home eating dinner and occupied with their lives. Confused, you swiped all the notifications away before another pop-up appeared.

ALERT! You're about to enter X's route. Do you want to continue?

> Yes > No

Panicked at this point, you pressed "No," but nothing happened. You kept tapping it repeatedly, not understanding what was happening with your phone. But nothing changed, the notification staying in place. The sound of something breaking inside your apartment tore your focus away from your phone, startling you.

You must have finally managed to close it, the pop-up disappearing just as you unlocked the door to your apartment, still having held on to the key when you were surprised by the sound. Darkness and silence greeted you from inside, everything seemingly normal.

Majorly confused, you shook your head, slowly entering the hallway leading inside. "Hello?" you called out, reaching for the light switch. The light flickered on, and... there was no one. Holding your breath, no sound reached your ears, and you groaned, realizing you got freaked out about... nothing.

This wasn't some kind of horror game, and the story never had a murder-solving subplot. True, the ratings for it were kind of strange—it being rated as 18+ on the website—but seriously, what should happen in a cozy little city like the one the game played in? You didn't even think they had a police station here.

Pushing off your shoes as you shrugged off the weird feeling from before, you walked up the hallway to your living room, turning on the light before coming to an abrupt halt. There were broken pieces of glass underneath your living room window, but what really freaked you out came into view only when you lifted your head. You could look into the mirror of your cabinet door from your position, red marker dripping from it as if someone had hastily scribbled on it just seconds ago. You weren't sure it was a pen anymore, judging by its deep red color and the fluidity of it.

"𝘪 𝘸𝘪𝘴𝘩 𝘺𝘰𝘶'𝘥 𝘰𝘯𝘭𝘺 𝘭𝘢𝘶𝘨𝘩 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘮𝘦 𝘪𝘵 𝘥𝘳𝘪𝘷𝘦𝘴 𝘮𝘦 𝘤𝘳𝘢𝘻𝘺"

Your phone pinged.

Achievement unlocked:

On the Highway to Hell - Unlock the secret route

#isekai #yandere isekai #yandere!isekai #yandere #yandere imagines #yandere headcanons #yandere scenarios #yandere fanfiction #yandere writing #yandere stories #yandere oneshots #yandere oneshot #yandere drabble #yandere x reader #yandere x darling #Yandere TW

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controld3vil · 1 month

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sand walking?

pairing(s): dune 2 cast x actor!reader (platonic!!)

synopsis: requested by this ask!

⤷ alt: how to seduce someone walking on sand.

notes: there hasn't been confirmed for dune 3 yet but denise villeneuve has said he's writing for it to happen. ill patiently wait for the day it's confirmed :) ALSO there are fictional/made-up mentions of the novel for the sake of the reader. they're made to be gender-neutral!! and this includes platonic flirting between cast members. i MAY have gotten carried lmaoo

“I mean- what do you think of the character? Do you think they deserved more screen time?” The clip starts off with you comfortably conversing with the interviewer. To say you weren’t deflecting their curiosity. In actuality, you were eager to learn what others thought about your performance and take on the character. The only other interpretation had on-screen was from the classic 1984 film by David Lynch.

The clip that has been widely retweeted back is of a cute moment you had from the first film of Dune (2021). Before release, little was known about your character’s potential. Apart from the enthusiastic book lovers, film viewers were clueless about what role your character would play after the first movie.

Denise Villeneuve didn’t reveal much to you in person. He wanted to keep ideas confidential until he was 100% on board making the project come to life. Still, rumors sparked through speculation and interviews with the cast members of Dune. Including an infamous short, that you forgot about, of yourself boasting about your hopes and wishes for your character.

“Yes! How could we not!” On the opposite side, the interviewer exclaimed as they leaned forward from their chair, closing into your proximity. Their hands clenched, tightening their grip on the flash card, full of questions. “The movie left us on such a cliffhanger. I think everyone would want to know what happened to Nerre,”

“That’s for Denise to decide,” Nodding you gave a relaxed smile while lifting one leg over the other. Your shoulders relaxed, feeling content and ecstatic about their response. “I can’t confirm anything until he gives me the green light to say anything,”

“I’ve also talked to Timothée this morning,” A shift in gears as the journalist flipped over another flashcard. You two had just fussed about the finale and its dramatic cliffhanger. “And all he had to say were the sweetest things about you,” At the mention of your costar compliments, you felt your skin heat up. Your eyes soften, expressing only fondness for the lovely message. A soft awh escaped your breath. “He’s very sweet. Timothee's always been fun to be around.” A fervent chuckle from the interviewer sends them into a feverish excitement. “And- he said- you had great flirting skills!” It was then your face morphed into complete shock and giddiness . “Really?!” The camera pans up on your initial reaction, eyes popping out in surprise and a bubbling laugh slowly erupting. “I’m glad someone appreciates my talents!”

Without context, the short clip seemed harmless. Your sheer reaction to Timothee's comment emphasized the fun chemistry the two of you had on set. Mirroring much of Paul and Nerre's friendship, you both complimented each other well in the first film, being the youngest surrounded by well-renowned actors. But the reason for the recent spike of interest was partially from Dune: Part Two and their interviews.

Fast forward to the debut of Dune: Part Two, it made success at the box office. Even surpassing the first film altogether. The entire cast of Dune was proud of the work they've made. The introduction of new characters played by wonderful actors and actresses all around.

Weeks after the early IMAX screenings, press interviews were being published amongst of the young cast members. A particular interview by IGV Presents brings together Timothee Chalamet, Zendaya, Florence Pugh, Austin Butler, and yourself.

This would be considered to be one of your first interviews with the Dune cast after the box office release. You felt nervous yet overjoyed at the same time to be meeting your co-actors again after the conclusion of filming had taken place.

The spokesperson of IGV, Simon Harkness starts off the interview strong with a pleasant greeting. "Congratulations on an incredible movie. Uhm it is the definition of a sci-fi blockbuster and is absolutely phenomenal, so huge congratulations to you all!"

"Thank you!" The five of you all politely cherish his kind words.

"It's so lovely to talk to you. Um- Timothee, Zendaya, I'm going to start with you. This is probably the hardest question I've ever asked in an interview so you've been warned." An endearing giggle can be seen from Zendaya before allowing him to continue. "Sand walking, who does it better?"

Timothee immediately lifts up his microphone. "I'm going to give it to Zendaya here." Without glancing at her, you could tell Zendaya was happily smiling at his compliments. How quick he was to answer made it seem how well connected the cast was even given the amount of time spent together. The main lead continues very swiftly, diving more into how cinematic the shot was from an outside perspective, "I think it's the most- one of the most cinematic shots in the movie and she really has it very precisely down but it's the nature of the movie too that she's supposed to be better than Paul,"

"Is that what it is?" In return, Zendaya who sat next to him gave him a teasing look.

Quietly from afar where you sat, next to Austin Butler, you whispered. "He acted like he couldn't do it but," Soft snickering can be heard across the room.

"In fairness to me, I was going 65%- 65 to 70 too hard," Chalamet reasons justly as he glances in your direction before looking back to the interviewer.

"You dumbed it down," Harkness nods in a high-spirited manner. Right after, Timothee reluctantly agrees, keeping the mood light-hearted.

"I had to!"

"Just how committed you are!" Austin steps in, joining in on the joke.

"Zendaya, you can take that crown. I love that," The brown-haired man reassures as she recuperates with appreciative laughter. In truth, it was a beautiful scene between Paul and Chani you were lucky enough to witness behind the camera. And contrary to their light banter, you thought both actors did well at accomplishing what it was meant sand walk. Truthfully you had no scenes beyond walking through the desert but understanding the mechanics and traditions of the Fremen was as fascinating as it was watching it up close.

Suddenly it was Florence's turn to speak, "Zendaya taught me the other day and I had to just stop to stare at her feet."

"The swoopy swoop?" You asked in a cutesy tone, with furrowed eyebrows. You couldn't help but remember the few instances you witnessed your costars practice the sand walk to be one of the more adorable rehearsals you've seen on the sand.

"Yeah, her feet were so pretty! She was doing the swoopy swoops," The blonde acknowledges, waving her hands in a zig-zag pattern. As the replication of water and how her feet moved.

The interviewer's eyes light up, "Honestly I tried to swoopy swoop at home- um because we have a carpet in the bedroom."

"How did it go?" The mixed actress puts forward.

"Awful!" An assembly of bewilderment is seen between Zendaya and Florence as they quickly question why. However, they reassure him in the end that they would practice together in hopes of him archiving the sand walk.

Talks with simple questions went down the row. Florence discusses her experience from her beginnings, starring in Little Women, comparing those scenes in terms of royalty to Dune. In both films, she's worked with well-known actors and now Christopher Walken as the emperor and her father. She raves about how it was a dream come true. A dream she had when she was little. From this experience, Florence emphasizes the concept of learning and observing her fellow actors.

Another intriguing topic follows Austin for his experience between learning choreography fighting and Elvis's iconic rubber legs. In a sense, as you leaned forward on one of your seats, you became fascinated by the Elvis actor's comparison of it all. While Elvis's moves were televised and had to be precise for the camera, being a Harkonnens gave him more leverage in the freedom to move. It was a captivating question that you couldn't help but want to listen to more.

Comparisons aside, you didn't have much to note for your upcoming question. Which is exactly why you felt unprepared for what he was going to ask.

Harkness brings up your name for the finale. "You have done stunt work before. For the first and now second film, I've heard you compared it to rather- dancing. Is that what you think your relationship with the choreography has been?"

You gave a content hum, "You see it with the Fremen or Harkonnens right? Everyone moves so differently and for the course for me, I've had to adjust my choreo little by little. And I think that analogy you mentioned really does relate back to dancing. I don't know if it's because I was once a dancer or that I'm a visual learner," You shrug your shoulders, "But I see the choreography as a dance routine. You're moving alongside people, doing hits and jabs. Both are very hands-on so I would like to approach it as something I can always work on." Satisfied with your answer, you clapped your hands together.

"Kind of like sand walking no?" It was then that Zendaya swerved counterclockwise to face you.

Bringing back the conversation they had in the beginning about sand walking, your eyes instantly brighten. "Exactly like that!"

"I feel like you would be great at sand walking," Florence puffs, mindlessly shaking her microphone back and forth. "You- You already got the moves." Even Timothee came into agreement, humming and commenting you worked well with the choreography.

Austin Butler raises his microphone. "I think you gotta learn with me because I don't think I could,"

"Nonsense!" You give him a silly glare. "If you can do a killer rubber leg, I think you can sand walk." Florence and Zendaya both mumble their support and your male costar leans to have his arm around the back of your chair, warmly.

"Is that an open invitation I see?" The spokesperson, Harkness giggly pokes at than the rest of the cast turns to look at you. Your scowl morphs into an innocent one.

"Hm?" As you squint your eyes in hesitation.

"I feel like you could have the potential to sand walk but just with the right partner," Timothee chimes in, spreading his arms over his chair as well. Your brows furrowed accusingly, as if wanting to clarify what he meant by his comment.

And the French actor gives you a look, one you became so sure of. "Mm right!" A slight eruption of laughs before you straightened your back with proper posture. "With just the right partner,"

There were also hints mentioned in your interview with Timothee surprisingly not. This was one of the more recent ones to be published, as you finally were able to pair up with your favorite co-star (besides Brolin) from the first film. The two of you had strong chemistry despite having less screen time together in the second film.

The beginning of the video cuts to a clip of you answering an innocent question. "What I think about every day, is Timothee going to send to me a meme today? Uh, I hope so!" You give a sarcastic look to your seat partner as he latently laughs in front of you. "Or when is he going to text me you know?"

It then transitions to an interviewer from Heart commercial radio as he shouts out your names. "How are you both?"

"I'm doing good!"

"Going great!"

The radio show was more relaxed than you would've expected as the spokesperson was very down to the earth with his conversation starters and contagious warmth. Timothee was able to catch up with him from his last interview when he premiered his Wonka film. Eventually, the interview became more casual discussing working together, cooking, and trendy topics.

Timothee and you both went back and forth on favorite memories you had of the first film. And talking about the new cast members and new elements it had brought to the table for the film itself.

"Cool new characters this time," As you played around with the fuzzy microphone the camera crew gave to you.

"Yup lots of new people to meet," Timothee adds on, nodding.

The interviewer proceeds with the question, "And also you have seen- there's a clip about of you running around actually." He signals to you, "Of your reaction to something Timothee said about your performance in the first film,"

"Oh! I've seen it," Almost instinctively, your co-star raises his hand. "I was supposed to send it to you but I forgot." As he turns, to finds you looking lost at the topic at hand.

"Really what was it?" You almost looked concerned, seeing how you didn't understand what they meant.

Luckily for you, the Heart radio spokesperson managed to get a hold of the video from his phone, "It was a little callback of Timothee raving about your flirting skills."

As it plays, the camera zooms in on you and your co-actors reaction. The French actor couldn't help but look slightly embarrassed but smitten when the timing of your reaction came on screen. While you held an intrigued stance, arms crossed and a content grin.

"I am pretty good at flirting,"

"You really are, huh." At the same time, you both turn to make eye contact.

"I also heard Tim- that you thought that they would be your love interest initially?" At the radio speaker's inquiry, you couldn't help but in mid-sentence, finally, swerve your head suddenly.

"Yeah well, fun fact actually," The male actor tries to reason, sitting up. "In the novels, Paul and Nerre almost did become a couple!"

It was a well-known fact of that in the first novel, there had been slight changes to the story. Initially, it was said that the author, Frank Herbert had planned for Paul and Nerre, the character you played to have a romantic connection after the fall of House Atreides. Nevertheless, it was later scrapped for another plot, that of instead having Chani as the love interest. But even decades later after the novel’s release, it was something fans still fuss about.

"Oh, I heard about that!" Almost in awe, you nodded, your attention fully on Chalamet, wondering how far he was willing to go beyond spoilers.

"Do you think Nerre would ever meet someone then?" The afro man questions, adjusting his microphone. "Since- Paul has Chani, I feel like if we ever get a potential third film, that could open some doors!"

"If a third film could happen," You start, fiddling with the lining of the mic cover, "I hope so! I mean I got the moves, I got the skills!"

"Keep practicing your sand walk and we'll see," Timothee cutely chimes as you proceed to blow a raspberry at him. Only for him to lightly swat you away.

Despite your failures to have scenes of sand walking, your cast of a crew were more than happy to show you. Javier Bardem and Jessica Ferguson were quite supportive in your interest for something you did not have any part-time. A few behind the scene videos show the actor demonstrating from afar the slower version of the walk.

Though your back was facing the camera, viewers would pick up and recognize it to be you. Jessica as well was off to the side, in her luminescent costume of a million robes, clapping from side to side.

Another later pans to you taking long strides across the sand in the background. In front of the camera are Josh Brolin and Javier having their turn in the video, to discuss their relationship and the previous they have worked on together. However, viewers couldn't help but pinpoint your figure alongside the frame trying to master the patterns of what Javier taught you from the previous clip.

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fauustic · 11 months

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hi hi! i'm not very active on tumblr anymore but i came back for miguel o'hara and your snippets are what are keeping me alive at the very moment, is it alright if i request for some miguel fluff?

the prompt is that he tries really hard to keep his "touch-starvedness" unnoticeable but reader makes that very hard for him because even brushing shoulders and hands is enough to send him into cardiac arrest. it all goes to hell when reader gets genuinely concerned for him and twists into reader giving miguel the gentle touch he deserves :3

(( I loved this ask so much... I will definitely do a different concept with this idea to bring it more justice! thank you for your request, so wonderful nonetheless! ))

my requests are still open!! i didn't proofread this one so if there are any mistakes sorry!!

gender-nonconforming reader x miguel “spider-man 2099″ o’hara

fluff. miguel, so desperately touch-starved, yearns for any touch he can’t get. you unknowingly give it to him.

warnings: jealous and slightly violent miguel, perhaps slightly suggestive? MAINLY FLUFF THOUGH!! HE LOVES YOU SM!! anyhow he’s just a little silly and painfully in love with his co-worker ..

word count: 2852

A soft bump met your shoulders, tilting the vial you held ever so delicately with much more force than anticipated from the unexpected collision. The goggles resting upon your nose slanted from the impact as the burst of color within the flask splashed onto your lab coat. A frustrated groan erupted from your lips as a light chuckle sounded from right beside you.

“Jeez– this isn’t funny Miguel!” You couldn’t help but whine while hurriedly cleaning up your lab station before anyone from a different department of Alchemax could see your slip-up. The vial that held a mysterious substance wasn’t anything to worry about, it was a prototype for a more ecologically efficient paint alternative to further the health of citizens amongst Nueva York– but the progress being wiped away over something as small as a little bump on the shoulder almost made you fall to your knees.

Being hired as a rookie chemist to the most successful chemical corporation in existence had you sweating bullets over your every move– not even allowing yourself to step foot in the break room in fear that you’d have to reiterate what you have done during your time here. Which was much less accomplished than your assigned veteran lab partner, who always offered to help bring your concepts to fruition– but you declined with ease because you wanted to feel worthy to the department you were assigned.

This didn’t stop Miguel from coincidentally being a step behind your movements always, despite your insistence that you had everything under control.

It was nerve-wracking, feeling his gaze study you a bit too hard as you measured how clean a sample of underground Nueva York was in the dim light of a late night shift. He’d make quips, soft against your exhausted temple while Miguel would finish the rest of your unfinished goals. Drifting off into the embrace of sleep, your eyes would crack open ever so slightly as he examined your work with a level of admiration in his gaze you've never noticed fully awake– tinkering and fiddling with whatever environmentally-productive project you had going on that shift. The last recollection of the night would be the touch of Miguel’s knuckles grazing your shoulders, a jacket wrapping around your back like a blanket. The smell of praline alongside bergamot orange stuck to your body like a shadow as you slumped awake the following morning, rushing home to shower and get ready for the shift you had the upcoming afternoon.

Following the next day, Miguel had a subtle smile upon his features as you returned his jacket with a flustered expression he’s never seen from you. Excitement bubbled against his chest like a shaken-up soda as he observed the slight bow of your head in appreciation, hands atop his scarred grasp that held onto the jacket you returned. You never caught the deep breaths flooding his lungs as the two of you separated, his jacket held tightly against his hammering heart. “I, I need to go grab a coffee–” Miguel muttered underneath his breath, leaving before you could even acknowledge his dismissal. Confusion dazed your focus, remembering the last time you asked if he had wanted any coffee he mentioned he didn’t even like the caffeinated drink in the first place. Told you it made his insomnia worse.

The both of you had grown closer ever since that experience as surprising as it was, due to his cocky yet cold attitude usually clashing against your focus. If it wasn’t for his seriousness, the two of you would be bickering like partners forced to work on a group project in grade school. Which brought you back to the present, cleaning up the mess he had technically created due to bumping into you. A frown etched upon his face, stress lines from his hundreds of late shifts growing prominent at the tip of his lips. “I was doing something important– and you waltz in and just knock it all over?”

“‘Didn’t mean to, conejito.” Miguel replied in his usual matter-of-fact tone, waving off his actions like every other time he's accidentally skewed your focus. "But I'm more than willing to fix what I did if you just stop acting like a spooked animal." It rolled off his tongue like an insult, but you knew that's just how he spoke. Short and blunt, with little quips towards anyone who annoys him just briefly. Just like every other co-worker, despite the amount of time the two of you have spent together, you always would get a taste of his attitude before you snapped right back at him.

But today, you were tired and running off of pure coffee as the sun began to set. Bickering with Miguel was something you wanted to stray away from at the time being. So you caved, giving him a gesture to come closer to you. "You can't help if you are standing seven feet away from me, O'Hara." You told him the obvious, readjusting the goggles that sat atop your nose while you went over the variables involved with your test.

For the first time in response to your sarcasm, Miguel was silent. Seconds ticked by as you grew more invested in resuming from where you left off, the little quarrel leaving your mind as soon as it came. You thought he'd ignore you and end up doing his own thing in your shared lab, but the distinct footfalls from his leather shoes moving closer after the rare quietness proved you wrong.

Miguel slid up right beside your hunched stance, close enough that the warmth from his arms met your wrists but not close enough where his rolled-up sleeves would collide against the fabric fitted against your arms.

You stood there, measuring the exact precise measurements from before with the several natural ingredients surrounding the both of you. And Miguel just watched, at least that's what you assumed, because that burning gaze of his seeped into the back of your head and sizzled against your fingertips working painstakingly slow mixing and working against the organic compounds. Nervousness prickled your skin, goosebumps following in its wake.

Due to your posture, when you snapped your attention to him you couldn't help but look up. Miguel's features were soft, an expression that you've never seen on him meeting your eyes. He was looking down at you, breathing in sleepily while subsciously leaning his body into your space. The unusual mannerism caught your attention with haste, and you were about to question if he was feeling okay before he perked up like he got shocked.

His gaze was distant until he realized you were looking straight at him– immediately looking off towards the vials you had splayed in front of you like he was caught doing something wrong. You couldn't help but frown while you watched Miguel exhale deeply, his index and thumb meeting the bridge of his nose in a habit you've noticed throughout your time here. Miguel was stressed.

"Hey, it's okay that you messed up." The forgiveness falling from your lips only made him curl into himself more. Worry clouded your mind at seeing him so worked up, something you were so unfamiliar with. Usually, Miguel expressed himself in abrupt irritation that you always tried to help him through– the silent loathing almost made you ask him to go home out of concern. "Mistakes happen in the lab, Miguel. Please don't beat yourself up.

Soft graze meeting his shoulder, his body tensed up at the unexpected attempt of your's that was made to comfort him. The both of you danced around each other at best, the most contact from one another would be leading his movements with your own hold onto his hands while instructing assistance. Miguel's mouth fell agape, his unusually sharp canines he kept away was brought to your attention from the dim light highlighting his features. A gasp followed as your hand met his cheek while aiming for his forehead, which he tried to cover up with a cough.

"What are you doing–" He hissed out in a mess as the heat blooming from his cheeks set your own touch aflame. You hushed him, which he obliged without a word. Strange, you thought to yourself again. He never acts like this towards anyone, let alone get this close to another chemist within the building of Alchemax.

Palm brushing against the strands of hair blessing his forehead, you checked his temperature while his eyes fluttered close. "I'm checking your temperature, Miguel." You murmured against his jaw, boosting your height on your tiptoes in order to reach his forehead. "You've been off today, it's concerning."

"I'm fine," He muttered into the space between you, beginning to distance himself from your touch until your free hand met his other shoulder. It was as if a weight held him into place, grounding him within your touch as he shakily dug his fingers into his black dress-pants. You hadn't noticed the subtle slices into his thighs from his claws. Miguel's resolve was failing terribly.

His breath, quick and shallow, met the skin of your ear. It tickled. Hot air crashed into your contrasting cold flesh, digging into your nerves like boiling water.

Once your skin met his temple, he pushed against your touch like you were the only thing keeping himself afloat. His grasp met your elbow while the other relied on the counter for support. "Just feeling a bit under the weather." Miguel managed to mumble, brow furrowing as if he was in pain– never once did you catch the reddened hue painting his face and flustered glint in his eye.

"I've been telling you to stop overworking yourself," you scold him softly, shaking his grasp on your elbow just to take his hands into yours. "How much sleep have you gotten recently?" The question makes him cringe, the dark circles around his eyes as prominent as ever.

"Not enough." He admitted.

"You know that's not good for you." You reminded him with a frown. Warmth blossomed in your chest as his skin, warm and marred from his work with all sorts of scientific junk, caressed your knuckles with his thumb. He had calmed down as time ticked by, a sleepiness that clung onto him as darkness painted the canvas beyond the window of your floor. A huff of air escaped his lips as he rested his cheek against the cool of the lab table, safely distanced from what you were working on. Miguel’s hand didn’t dare move from your grasp, and you didn’t think about moving either. Miguel was slowly becoming a good friend of your’s, if something so small as a little comfort was needed you were more than willing to help.

“Yeah, yeah.” Was all he said. Silence dawned over the both of you as you resumed back to fixing up his mistakes. The dim light filled words left unsaid with a soft ambience, vials clinging against each other gently while liquids poured into one another. The night ended with you successfully conjuring up an ecological alternative to whatever paint Nueva had used before, which will certainly be good on your reports– and Miguel ended up getting the rest he needed.

You had pulled up a chair for him long ago, and he took it without a word. Slumped against your lab station, each time you’d try to pull away from him he’d mumble out a little, “no, please– stay here.” with his eyes still fluttered shut. He didn’t drool or snore, in fact it was a bit concerning how quiet he was as slumber took him. Almost like a vampire in his coffin, the idea of Miguel dressing up as Dracula made you stifle a laugh against the back of your free hand. Maybe you’d have to convince him to dress up for the next corporate Halloween event, as silly as it would be.

Miguel’s brow furrowed ever so slightly, mumbling out incoherency as your hand anchored him to this world. The light reminder of success infiltrated your senses as the smell of beeswax and linseed oil– honey and lemon. You’d already be on your way back home if Miguel didn't have his fingers intertwined with yours, murmuring things you’d never imagine him to say. It made your stomach churn, a wobbly smile meeting your lips as you laughed off his sleepy nonsense.

The fun ended too quickly it felt, as he suddenly stretched and groaned– his hand pulling you a little with him. The weight on him snapped him awake, senses kicking into overdrive to clear his confusion. Once he realized he was in the safety of the lab he shared with you, Miguel visibly relaxed. When his gaze met your interlocked fingers, he almost fell out of his chair.

Miguel whispers out your name in an embarrassed mess, wrapping his free hand around his mouth in an attempt to calm himself down. But you merely hummed an automatic response, and he couldn’t help but shake the thoughts clouding his consciousness. You were affecting him in a way that almost left him frozen, emotions that felt close to a high rushed into his brain and messed with any rationality he was able to clutch. Miguel’s claws he kept at bay threatened to unsheathe into your knuckles as warmth painted his features into an unbearable heat.

By the time he had fully woken up, you were dozing off yourself.

Elbow propped against the counter while your head rested on your hand, drool etched the side of your lips as the world of dreams scooped you up and cradled you lovingly. You were blissfully aware of the carnal gaze of your lab partner, soaking in your soft, resting expression like a full-course meal. His heart ached painfully at a small snore that escaped his lips.

When it came to you, it’s almost as if he had a bad case of cute aggression on top of the painful crush that held him in a chokehold.

Every brush of your shoulder meeting his own short circuited his every thought, shocking his cold attitude into a soft spot for you. Every graze upon his hands, with that mouth of yours snapping at him with a certain playfulness, had him melting against you like putty. And here you were, spending the night with him in the stiff chairs of the lab simply because he had told you to in his exhausted stupor.

Miguel almost hyperventilated at how nice you were to him, grasp tightening on your hand every so slightly. He wanted all of you, he realized, as his lips came into contact with your knuckles.

Were you as sweet as always with the others in your shared department? Did you give them a piece of your mind, but then turned around with open arms and a hug when something went right? Did you share your secrets in the comfort of being busy, finding companionship with the one helping you who wasn’t him?

Miguel kissed your finger-tips as a soft gasp escaped your drooling lips, breathing in your scent like it was keeping him from unravelling altogether. The thoughts of someone else so close to you made his skin crawl and the urge to dig his claws within flesh. An insistent voice growled in the back of his head, “protect, closer, closer, need.”

It was his voice, snarling like a devil on his shoulder whenever he was clouded with your embrace. He craved your touch like it was a necessity to live, as important to breathe. His fangs trailed your wrist and your hold tightened onto his own hard instinctively. A pleased hum rolled off his tongue, you were just like a bunny caught into a trap. Prey at his mercy.

But he pulled away before he was too into his own head and did something he shouldn’t. Miguel wanted to see your nervous, wide-eyes gaze for himself when he offered to kiss you– or practically begged you to when the time came. In no way would he allow himself to take away a moment so special between the two of you.

So Miguel swiped away the drool dripping down your chin, bringing his thumb that delicately grazed your face onto his tongue and tasted your spit for himself. It was sweet, like you had just finished chewing down a piece of pink bubblegum hours ago– and that knowledge alone almost sent him off the edge of any human thought he had left.

So he collected himself, soothing out his lab coat before bringing a palm against his hair to smooth it back out. With a light smile and a deep breath, he invaded your space with a gentleness that rivalled a melodious tune.

Shaking you awake, Miguel brought his claws to your hair and raked through the curls. The action took you both by surprise, by you couldn’t help but purr a sleepy “hello, silly,” at the sight of waking up to his sleep-ridden self. He only chuckled, a red painting his ears that you couldn’t see.

“Hello to you too, mi corazón. I’ll help you get home.”

#miguel o'hara #into the spider verse #across the spiderverse #miguel o'hara x reader #spiderman 2099 #miguel o'hara comfort #miguel o'hara fluff #x gender neutral reader #x fluff #x comfort #comfort #fluff #ive been swamped by the last of this semester but i'll be getting back to writing more soon!! thank youu :)

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strawberrysturniolo · 3 months

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someone older pt 2 // chris sturniolo

summary: after chris and his new photographer have a successful first shoot, they struggle with the idea of them being able to have a professional relationship. teasing, degrading, spanking, rough sex, age gap, daddy kink, secret relationship.

part one

The long awaited Fresh Love drop was a success. So much so that Chris called me, thanking me profusely for my addition to the project. He went on to say that he “hopes we can work together again,” but part of me knows there’s something more to it.

The last time he was here, we made out and took a variety of photos during the act.

He wound up getting a phone call from his manager, putting a hold in our activities.

I’m not sure where that would have led us, had she not called and he had to leave. I don’t think it would have gone further. I don’t know if I would have allowed it.

It was fun in the moment, and I certainly don’t regret it. The only issue is that now with me staring at a new message from Chris about a future shoot, I have to make sure that we’re in agreement of this being simply work, not pleasure in any way.

Chris

Thanks again for the last session. I got amazing feedback from everyone. I wanted to send a message and ask you if you had time this week to do another shoot? That was kind of a test run of what pieces people might like, but now that we have more colors I need to get some more shots in them. Lmk when you’re free

Call me.

I set my phone down on my kitchen counter, trying to let the memories of him sucking my jaw flee my brain. He paid really well, but he was really great to work with, so if kissing him a little while I have fun working with him helps… then what’s the harm?

No, there’s so much harm in this.

My phone rings almost immediately after the message is sent. I hesitate answering, but realize how bad it would look if I didn’t pick up the phone after I just sent a message asking for him to call.

“Hey,” I greet him casually.

“Hey. I assume this is to follow up my message?” he asks.

I find myself pacing around my kitchen, trying to find the right words. “Yeah, but Chris–”

“But?” he cuts in. “There’s but’s now?”

I pause. “What’s wrong with there being a but?”

“This isn’t a work type but,” he goes on. “This is a ‘there’s an issue between you and me’ type but.”

I don’t respond.

“Is there?” he asks, noticing my silence.

“No. Maybe? I don’t know Chris. What I do know is that I did enjoy working with you and I’m glad the drop was what you hoped for–”

“More than what I hoped for,” he interrupts me again. “That happened because of you.”

“Maybe that’s true but if you want to keep working with me then what happened last time can’t happen again,” I say confidently, really trying to convince myself of the same.

I can picture him searching for the words to say. He settles on, “Why?”

I wish I had a better answer. “Part of it just feels wrong.”

“What about it feels wrong? I kissed you. You kissed me back. We did that together. We talked about it afterwards. We said it was good and we were glad it happened.”

“I know,” I nod to myself. I got myself in too deep. “I’m five years older than you, and this is a workplace relationship. This shouldn’t have happened. It’s highly unprofessional and it makes me look bad as an artist.”

“This relationship is also two sided,” he refutes again. “Why do you get to make the calls and decide what’s right and wrong if I was involved in it too?”

Okay… This guy might be more mature than I was led to believe.

“I mean,” he continues. “I could get in trouble too, you know? If my manager found out I was kissing all over my new photographer, I’d be toast. She’d insist on me finding someone else no matter how successful our shoots are. So if you don’t want to shoot with me anymore then fine, but if it’s because you can’t handle a little tension here and there then there’s something deeper that you need to resolve on your own.”

Part of that cuts deep until I’m suddenly stitched back up and determined to prove a point to him. Maybe this Chris Sturniolo is a fling kind of guy. Maybe he has the power over his own feelings to be able to disguise when he’s into someone, but I’m not able to do the same. It’s written on my face, and the last thing I need is for this guy five years younger than me to win this argument.

So game on.

“Come over tonight. Bring your gear and I’ll start setting up now.”

His voice is laced with a cocky tone. I can picture the smirk on his face. “I thought you’d say that.”

The rest of the day passes as I set up my studio with backdrops I spray painted a few days ago. This time, decorated with dark blue splatter designs and graffiti. In a daze and my mind wrapped around all things Chris, I graffitied the words ‘Fresh Love,’ which he went on to compliment upon arrival.

“I’m glad you came around,” he added. “They liked the shots of us together, and I didn’t want to have to search for another model for it if you were right here.”

I nod, trying to have my best poker face as if my eyes aren’t following his every move. “Stand on the X.”

He goes to his place with a smile, knowing my routine now. “Ah, test shots, huh? You do these every time?”

“Wouldn’t miss them,” I respond shortly.

He must have noticed that I’m trying to keep this as business as possible, seeing how he started making every fucking face he could to somehow turn me on. The most seductive smirks, hands in his hair, pulling his shirt a certain way so some of his skin would show more on his stomach.

I hate him.

I need more.

“The lighting is good,” I say as I stand up straight, setting the camera to its flush settings. “Do what feels natural, just like last time.”

He smiles. “If I wanted things to be like last time then you’d be in front of the camera with me.”

I suck in a deep breath. “If you behave then maybe I’ll join you.”

That shuts him up as he starts posing for me. Eventually he asks, “Can I take this sweatshirt off now? Or are we still looking for a good shot?”

I shake my head. “I think we got it. We can do some without now.”

He peels his sweatshirt off, letting it stay stuck to his shirt he wears below it, allowing it to peel up in unison and reveal his stomach and chest. The minimal but dark hairs that decorate his lower stomach give me far too much to imagine as I stare at him. I want to see more of him, and I want those clothes gone. I’m aching for him, and he’s using it to his advantage.

“You taking pictures of my clothes or my body, baby?”

I snap out of it, brought back to him at the sound of the pet name.

The name ‘baby’ leaving his lips almost has me buckling at the knees.

He pulls his bottom lip between his lips, then glances between me and his own shirt. He peels his shirt off, standing bare from the waist up in front of me, dressed now in only his gray sweatpants representing his brand. Even those hang lower and give me too much to think about.

“Put this on and stand in front of the camera,” he instructs, tossing me the shirt as he switches positions with me. “Don’t worry… I’ll turn around while you change.”

For some stupid reason I find myself listening to him. I swap my shirt for his brand, standing on the center point of the camera and allowing him to get comfortable behind it.

He looks through the viewfinder at me, studying the shot before he snaps the moment. “Beautiful,” he mumbles, standing up straight again and smiling. He cocks his head to the side. “Now lose the pants.”

“Chris…” I start to say, but he has more.

“It’s just me and you,” he assures me. “Plus, this is your camera. I have no access to this. If you really don’t want to then fine, but I promise, no one will see these besides me.”

His eyes stare into mine with a determination that says, ‘You know you want it.’

And I fucking do.

Maintaining eye contact, I unbutton my jeans and pull them off my legs slowly, tossing them to the side and standing in front of him in his own shirt and a pair of dark red panties, a thong that hugs my hips in the right way and makes my ass look like his new favorite thing.

He licks his lips, swallowing as he steps back in front of the camera, trying to bite his tongue to keep from making a certain sound or saying something foul.

I want to know what’s going on in that head of his, but I refuse to ask and act interested even if I am.

I start to take control, letting myself feel more comfortable standing in front of him half naked. I start lifting the shirt little by little as he takes more photos, the click satisfying me even more when my back is to him, my ass on full display.

“Fuck,” he sighs. “That’s it.”

My stomach is turning in the best way at every compliment, every look, every sound that leaves his mouth. He isn’t doing his best at hiding his physical reaction either, seeing that his dick is now pressed to the sweatpants around his waist.

“You okay back there?” I tease, now smiling.

“Shut up,” he warns.

I let my body relax. “Business professional, remember?”

He scoffs. “Yeah, fuck that.”

I give him a glaring look. “Chris.”

“Don’t say my name.” My stomach almost falls until he continues. “Not when you look like that and I’m trying to keep it in my pants. Do not say my name.”

My smile grows as I step closer. “So you don’t want me, Chris?”

His eyes fall shut.

“You’re saying you don’t need me, Chris?”

He takes a deep breath, lets it out, and grits out, “Fuck. This.”

He pulls me aside from the camera, his lips finding mine as I take my hands to his hair, finishing where we left off. A soft moan leaves my lips as his dick presses against my thigh.

“Yeah,” he nods. “You did want me.”

I nod desperately back at him. “Really bad.”

“Mmmm,” he hums, kissing my neck. “You can have me right now, you know?”

I have a mental battle with myself while I’m in his arms, and then without thinking clearly I’m pulling him to my bedroom despite the voice in my head shouting for me to leave this alone.

I need relief, and he is exactly the painkiller I want.

He follows me blindly, refusing to detach his hands from my skin. I can’t get enough of him. He’s grabbing my ass, feeling my everywhere, teasing his leg in between mine. His thigh presses against my core, earning a gasp from me as I sit on the edge of the bed.

“Poor baby,” he pouts, pushing me back onto the mattress.

I lift my arms for him, giving him access to the underside of my shirt, lifting it off with ease. My hands find the desperation he is trying to satisfy, a pleased groan leaving his throat at my touch.

“Looks like someone was struggling too, huh?” I notice. My hand makes soft movements over his length, stopping when his hand juts out and grabs it.

He lowers his gaze to meet mine, our faces now level as I sit on the bed and he kneels in front of it.

“I’ve fantasized about you touching me and sucking me off, but I haven’t gotten a clear idea of what you look like with your ass up, or what your pussy feels like around me. So you wanna show me what it’s like?”

I’m ready to do anything he wants no matter how eager it makes me look.

Yet I can’t find the words that convey this.

I nod again. His hand grips my jaw as he pushes his mouth back to mine, shoving my body back onto the mattress in the process. He pins me down, grinding his hips into mine and teasing me with his cock before huffing out a breath and flipping me over. He lifts me by my hips, keeping my ass in the air for him.

“You gonna be able to take me with no foreplay? Nothing but my dick fucking you senseless, baby?” he whispers, pushing my shirt up – his shirt – and kissing down my back in between words.

“Yes, Chris,” I give in.

He tsks. “Don’t say my name. You know what you want to say. It’s on the tip of your tongue.”

Is he serious?

Because if he is… fuck this business relationship. I’ll need him in my bed every night.

I must have taken too long to respond. His palm smacks against my ass, demanding a response.

I wince. “Yes, daddy.”

“Good girl,” he says softly as he rubs his fingers where I was just spanked, soothing the pain.

He kisses over the spot as he pulls my thong to the side. He then dips his head between my legs from behind, licking a harsh stripe on my folds. He hums in pleasure.

“Fuck, you taste so good.” His finger rubs over that same spot. “Gonna have to taste you after I fill you up and see how good we taste together.”

Without realizing, I back my ass up to him, so much so that he smacks my ass again.

“Needy girls get nothing,” he warns, and I find myself apologizing profusely.

There is no way this kid five years younger than me is having this much control. There’s no way I put myself in this position.

The tip of his dick teases at my slit, swiping it a few times before pushing in and pulling right back out. “So tight.” He does the same motion a few more times before shoving in completely, moaning loudly as he lays his chest on my back, tucking his head in my neck. His lips suck on the spot that has me gripping my sheets as he fills me up. His hips start thrusting into me, his hips railing into my ass as he fucks me mercilessly. The sound is the hottest thing I’ve ever heard. Me dripping wet while he fucks himself deeper. His skin slapping against mine while my bed shakes, trying to hold us.

“Taking it so good baby,” he mumbles in my ear. He slaps my ass again, keeping his mouth close to my ear so he can talk me through it. “You like it rough, huh? Don’t you, you fucking slut?”

I whine at the name. “Uh huh.”

His fingers dig into my sides as he drills himself as deep as he can.

“FUCK– Yes, daddy,” I correct myself. “I’m sorry.”

“You’re so bad, baby,” he shakes his head in my neck. “Bratty as hell.”

I lower myself to my elbows, now unable to keep myself propped up the way he wanted me originally. He brings himself back up to his knees, fucking me at this new position. He speeds up, smacking my ass every so often, enough to where I can feel heat radiating off of it from the friction of his hand on my skin.

He continues to mock and degrade me, talking me through everything before his hips start thrusting erratically.

My hand reaches behind me, clinging to his wrist as I look at him over my shoulder. The nerves building inside of me are struggling to hold on. I feel like I’m going to break. “Daddy, I’m-”

His eyes go wide as my mouth drops. Watching my face as I cum, Chris’ hips still, his dick deep inside of me as my pussy grips him. His lips part, eliciting a loud whine. I cum around him, and it’s only a moment later that I can feel him filling me up.

I lower my face to a pillow, trying to regain my breath and any strength left in me. Chris pulls out after a few seconds, fulfilling his promise and cleaning up our mess between my legs. I let out a few weak moans, too wiped to make much noise.

He lays next to me, sweat on his forehead causing a few hairs by his ears to stick out straight, losing the natural curl in them and replacing them with a spiky style.

“So,” he says, his breath lost. “Business professional from now on?”

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#sturniolo triplets #chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #chris sturniolo smut #chris sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo x you #sturniolo #sturniolo smut

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headspace-hotel · 1 year

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Proposed logging project in the Daniel Boone National Forest (South-Central Kentucky, USA)

I found out about this recently and Ive seen barely any discussion or attention about it in real life or on the internet, so hopefully I can attract more attention

The USA Forest Service is planning to log 10,000 acres of the Daniel Boone National Forest near Jellico Mountain, near the Kentucky-Tennessee border. The plan includes around 1,000 acres of clear cutting.

We need mature forests to remove and store carbon from the atmosphere. This is disastrous from a climate change perspective.

The excuse being given (apart from the obvious economic incentive of logging) is that the tract is mostly "mature forest" and that the forest needs to have a "diversity of age classes" for wildlife. This is total bullshit, since less than 1% of old growth forest in the Eastern USA remains, and an 80-year-old forest is still incredibly young. This type of reasoning is greenwashing.

To make matters worse, the planned logging is on mountain tops, which will cause huge amounts of erosion and possible floods and landslides that endanger the people who live in the valleys below.

Kentucky experienced a deadly flash flood in the eastern mountains that killed 40 people last year. Forests help stop flash flooding by absorbing rainfall in a dense layer of roots and soil, draining it slowly into waterways; without them, mud and rainwater goes rushing straight into narrow mountain gullies rapidly, causing dangerous floods.

Mud and sediment rushing into streams also kills fish and aquatic life that need clear, clean stream water.

Kentucky has one of the most biodiverse freshwater ecosystems in the entire world, with only a couple states next to it having more freshwater species. Kentucky's forest streams have fresh water fish, crustaceans and other species found nowhere else on Earth.

The Southeastern USA has the most diverse freshwater life of any place on Earth, the most salamander diversity of any place on Earth, and the Appalachian Mountains are a global hotspot of biodiversity, considered one of the world's most biodiverse temperate deciduous forest habitats.

It is crucial that we begin building the old-growth forests of the future NOW!

Logging these forest tracts will facilitate invasive species to take over. Mature forests form buffer zones against invasive species. The forest will never grow back the way it was; it will be infected with Kudzu, Autumn Olive, Honeysuckle and other invasives that take advantage of the destruction and prevent the normal process of forest succession from happening as it should.

If you live anywhere near this area, talk to everyone around you about this, send them the links above and encourage them to do the same themselves.

Talk to your friends, your neighbors, people at your church, everyone you are in contact with or speak to in your day to day life. Tell them about the risks of flash flooding and landslides and the importance of preserving mature forest land. Any environmental clubs and organizations you know of, tell them as well.

Most people haven't even heard this is happening, and that's how they get away with it.

Public outrage protects priceless habitats all the time, so TELL EVERYONE YOU KNOW. Tell people you don't know, even. Call and email organizations and people that might be interested, until you run into someone who has an idea of what to do. That's how change happens!

#boost #kentucky #conservation #logging #protect our forests #climate change mitigation #usa

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astermath · 11 months

Text

nemesis

pairing: carmen berzatto x fem!reader

summary: you made carmen’s life hell in culinary school, except you had no idea. now he finds out you run a restaurant in Chicago, and he’s confronted with the emotions he projected onto you.

word count: 2.9K

notes: kinda got inspired by the lyric "I'm the sweetest girl in town so why are you so mean?" by lana del rey but this was prompted by this ask!!! anyway this starts off in carmy's culinary school era and then goes to somewhere around the start of S1. this will def get a part two!!

♡ LANDING PAGE ♡

warnings: cursing, slight mention of suicidal thoughts, angst

comment if you’d like to be added to the tag list for further carmen berzatto related content!

You were like the average person's depiction of an angel.

You were so incredibly good at what you did, excelling in every class they got, you were unanimously liked by everyone, always helping out your peers and taste testing, and for all he knew you probably fucking rescued baby polar bears in your spare time too.

You were perfect.

And he couldn't stand it.

Always saying good morning to him, with that sickeningly sweet smile, soft hands easily preparing the dishes he struggled to perfect. And that wasn't even the worst part. Because the teachers loved you too.

"Such an interesting spin on the use of this ingredient."

"I can tell you've really perfected this technique."

"What a unique combination of flavors..."

And they were right. Of course they were right, it's like you were a machine crafted in some kind of lab to outcook him in every way possible.

And it was stupid to be jealous, to almost hate you over it, because he was excelling too. But you were excelling more. His praise seemed worthless compared to yours, and he couldn't even dream of making the kind of connections you seemed to make with the other students.

So he grew to resent you. Even when he went to go work in New York, he couldn't shake the image of you standing in the corner of his kitchen, humming softly while chopping vegetables as you received all the praise he longed for. Some would say his hatred bordered on obsession, he would tell them it’s none of their fucking business.

Over the years, he’d managed to at least slightly shake the image of you in his kitchen, though at his lowest points, he couldn’t help but think of you. Of course Mikey was his primary motivation, but he couldn’t help but feel like possibly surpassing your success spurred him on too. But then again, what success? For all he knew, you quit cooking altogether, he hadn’t heard from you since he left for New York. That was, up until a few days ago.

It had been so busy already, and Carmen was spent trying to keep up with the pace of this business running on its last legs. He groaned into his hands, before going back to chopping tomatoes for his sauce.

“Hi! Can I just get a braised beef sandwich to go?”

Your voice made him flinch. He almost cut into his finger, that honey dripping sweet familiar voice sending a jolt of anxiety over his entire body. No way, no fucking way you were here, in Chicago, in the Beef of all places. He thought he must have hallucinated it, stressed out of his mind from the intense lunch rush they’d just had. But he had to know, he had to find out if you were there, setting foot in his establishment.

So he turned his head to peer over to the counter, and there you were.

Angel of the academy.

Arch nemesis of his nightmares.

Ordering a sandwich from his run down restaurant.

You barely looked any different, and the sight of your smile made his stomach drop. Or flutter. It did something to his stomach at least.

He was just going to let you leave, pretend like he imagined it so he could continue to live his life and believe you were out there pursuing anything besides cooking. But he couldn’t. He had to know, something deep inside him forced him to put his knife down and walk to the counter as you were heading to the door, and call out your name in questioning.

You turned, and when your eyes met he remembered how uncomfortable your eyes made him. How they’d make his face get hot, stutter, think about every mistake he’s made, like he was having an allergic reaction to your eye contact.

“Carmen?” Your voice was soft, unsure, as if you were coaxing a wild animal out of its cage.

Richie looked at Carmen, confused as all hell as to why his colleague was having a nervous staring contest with this random customer. “You know this chick or somethin’?”

He voluntarily ignored Richie’s question, getting from behind the counter and walking up to you. A part of him wanted to bolt, slam the door and tell the others to kick you out. Luckily for him, he’d become the more confrontational type recently.

“Holy shit, it is you!” A bright smile adorned your face, and he swore you were about to go in for a hug when you moved your arms, only to awkwardly cross them when he pulled away a bit. “What are you uh... Doin’ around here?” A stupid question, you were aware, but anything to make conversation with your long lost classmate.

The question made Carmen tense up. Although it was obvious he worked there, the Beef was not... In its prime condition, to say the least. He was a bit embarrassed to admit he owned it, but he wasn’t about to lie to you and make even more of a fool out of him in the long run.

“Makin’ sandwiches.” He sighed, looking down at his shoes for a moment, desperately trying to avoid eye contact. “So uh, what about you?”

“Ah, I run my own place like 25 minutes away from here.”

Ugh.

Of course you fucking did. Of course you, star student that you are, owned your own restaurant in Chicago. He bet it was running so well too, and you didn’t have to worry about half the shit he dealt with on a daily basis.

“Ah, wait, here,” You reached into your purse and pulled out a business card, handing it to him. “We’ve been up and running for only a few months, but it’s going pretty well!” You clutched your hands together, excitedly awaiting his response.

“Cool, cool...” He held the card, carefully reading over every letter. Sunrise diner... Huh. “A breakfast place?”

“You got it!” You chuckled, slightly nervous as you moved back and forth on your heels. You hadn’t seen Carmen in ages, and besides the added tattoos, he truly hadn’t changed that much. He’d matured, surely, but his demeanor remained the same. Curt, bold, something distrusting about it.

“If you want, you could uh... Stop by, maybe?” You fidgeted with the sleeve of your jacket.

Your question made him look up from the card, and a million answers ran through his mind. Did he want to? On one hand, he felt like if he spent any more time with you, he’d start feeling like even more of a failure than he already did. On the other hand, it wouldn’t be bad to scope out the competition, and who knows, maybe the place was shit, and he could sleep at night knowing at least both of your restaurants weren’t doing well.

“Sure, why not.” He shoved the card into his back pocket, crossing his arms. “I’m kinda swamped right now, but I’ll let you know. Maybe this weekend or something.”

“Sure, yeah, totally! My contact info’s on the card!” Your excitement almost made him distrust you even more. Were you planning something? Was this part of some elaborate scheme to drive his business into the ground? Either way, he’d find out sooner or later.

“See you around!” You waved him goodbye, heading outside as he stood there, no reply as the last thing that was heard was the jingly of the bell above the door.

Carmen took a deep breath, running a hand through his hair before turning back around, seeing Richie lean against the counter with a shit eating grin. “Ex girlfriend?” He asked, wiggling his eyebrows at him.

“Fuck off cousin.”

God, he wished you were just an ex girlfriend.

You were his biggest competition.

Usually when Carmen was up this early, it was to get some preparations done for the restaurant, or if he just hadn’t slept at all during the night.

But now he stood in front of your restaurant, and fuck, he had to admit, it looked good.

From what he could see from outside, the place had a very cozy feel to it. The theme was a mix of a 50′s diner and a casual breakfast spot, and from what he could tell so far, there was no lack of customers either. But that didn’t say much, maybe they were paid actors, right?

He entered and made eye contact with the barista behind the counter who offered him a warm “welcome” and a smile, before looking to the side and waving at someone in the kitchen. Not long after, you walked out, bright smile plastered over your face. He always wondered how you could be so energetic this early in the morning.

“Hey,” he said, hands in his pockets, “nice place.”

“Aw, thanks Carmy!” Your chest warmed at the compliment. “Saved a seat just for you, just follow me.”

He was seated in a booth just for him, and he had to admit, he liked this setup. He could eat his food in peace at least. The vintage feel of the leather cushioning of the benches was pleasant, and the jazz music playing made for a pleasant atmosphere. He’d almost say he would visit a place like this outside of work hours, if you weren’t the one running it.

He looked over the menu, noticing a wide array of breakfast sandwiches, pastries, milkshakes, and the usual coffee arrangement. Nothing too crazy, though he secretly wished he could have chosen something difficult for you to make.

He ordered an eggs benedict sandwich with smoked salmon, a coffee, and a cherry danish. Should be a pretty good test to the culinary quality of the place, he thought.

A waiter came by to drop off his food soon after, and he hated to admit his mouth watered at the sight of it. Everything looked so fresh, and the plating was very pretty too. But cuisine isn’t about how stuff looks, if it was, the Beef would have never existed, that was for sure.

He dug in with his knife and fork, and started eating. He sat through his entire meal in complete silence, simply going through the motions of enjoying a normal breakfast. The barista watched him with careful eyes, as if he was Gordon Ramsey and they were a shitty bakery on the verge of bankruptcy.

He put down his fork, taking a deep breath.

It was fucking delicious.

And every moment he’d spent enjoying it made him angrier and angrier.

So he got up, seemingly in a bit of a hurry, and stormed outside, the door hitting the wall with a loud thud when he exited.

You watched it happen from the doorway to the kitchen, face painted with worry.

“Carmen! Carmen wait!” You started to catch up with him as he walked over to the parking. He didn’t like it, you thought, no, he hated it, he hated it so much he couldn’t even dignify you with a moment of feedback.

Carmen’s face ran red as he could practically hear the blood rushing around his ears, hands starting to reach for his pack of cigarettes as you approached behind him.

“Please, just tell me what was wrong, I-I’ll change it, I can make you something new, off the menu, w-whatever you want, I--”

“God, do you ever shut the fuck up!?” He turned around, yelling loud enough to have you frozen in your tracks. His pack of cigarettes was squeezed tightly in his hand, crumpling the cardboard packaging under his grip.

You felt the paralyzing effect of his loud and furious voice, a cold sweat running over your body now. Before you could even open your mouth to say anything else, he stepped closer, and you didn’t even have the guts to back away.

“Every day in culinary school, you made my life hell! The one thing I have ever fucking excelled at, been noticed at, felt like I should have been alive for, you overtook me in!” His ears rang, and any noise besides his own yelling was muffled.

“You, with your perfect knife skills, endless patience, and your little angel fucking face, always at the back of my heels, the corner of my damn kitchen, making me feel inferior! And then-- then I finally get away from you, think I’ve got some direction in my life, feel a sliver of confidence in my abilities, and what do you fucking do!?” He points at you, finger just an inch away from poking into your sternum.

“You enter my city, my restaurant, and just come and remind me about how much better you’re doing! Because you love to make me feel like I’m worthless, liked I’m always 5 steps behind, don’t you?” He furrows his brows. “Tell me! Tell me that’s why you’re here, because you want to shit on my work, and make me feel worthless!”

You can feel his hot breath on your face, and your knees start to feel weak. You open your mouth, and the tears that had long been building in your eyes start to roll down your cheeks. The first noise that comes out of your mouth is barely half a word, strangled between the knot in your vocal cords that had formed out of fear. You swallow, and finally manage to speak up.

“Carmen, I-I’m... I’m so sorry...” You sob.

The person you’d looked up to since day one of culinary school thought of you as a bully. And you had no clue.

You knew Carmen didn’t like you, but you never knew he hated you this much. You’d noticed the tension in his jaw as you received good critiques, the strengthening grip on his tools when you got close to his station, the lack of eye content he provided when you did briefly talk. Just as much as you noticed his amazing instinct for flavor profiles, his ability to improvise, his insatiable urge to keep going.

It inspired you. So you kept going too. Even though deep down, you’d wish he acknowledged your work.

And now he did, he finally did, but not in the way you’d always hoped for. The man you’d always admired, who was awarded Chef of the Year the same year you considered giving up entirely, was currently inches away from your face, watching you cry.

His expression softened just a bit, and the surrounding sound of cars passing by and distant jazz music finally came back to him. You were sorry. So sorry. You looked like it too, hands clutching the fabric of your apron, shaking slightly, cheeks stained with tears. Shit. Shit, he’d really messed up.

“I-I didn’t... I didn’t know, I swear, I never meant to, I was just--” Your voice broke between sentences, “I was trying to keep going, keep holding on, and you were so... You inspired me, y-you’re...” You swallowed, looking to the side, afraid to face his scowl. “You’re the reason I settled in Chicago. I wanted to-- to work with you, or for you.”

You remembered trying to reach him, but he’d changed numbers, and with his severe lack of social media, trying to find him was damn near impossible. By the time you were ready to start cooking again, the year you heard he won Chef of the Year, you found out he was based in Chicago. You searched online, but to no avail. You figured your best shot was to try and start something in the city, and pray to whatever god would answer that maybe you’d cross paths again.

He stood still, head still reeling and processing what you were saying. This was new information for him, and that changed... A lot. You, the person he’d spent like half of his career trying to catch up to, admired him. He’d almost think you were lying if it wasn’t for the tears streaming down your face, he started to realize just how badly he’d acted out just now.

“I--” He started, taking a step back to get out of your personal space. “Fuck, I should-- I should go.”

You stood there, arms crossed, enveloping yourself and avoiding his eyes like a wounded animal. And the best thing he knew how to do at the moment, was flee the scene. He sucked at his emotions, hell, he could barely even handle his own, how was he going to help you after just cussing you out.

So he backed away, leaving to the nearest metro station to get out, leaving you alone outside.

Carmen got home that same day, back against the door as he sat on the floor of his apartment. He felt horrible, like there was a gaping hole in his chest, and he imagined you felt about a hundred times worse. He couldn’t believe what he did, all because he projected this horrible false narrative onto you, stemming from his own self hatred.

He sighed shakily, pulling out his phone and calling his older sister, Natalie.

“Hey, what’s up Carmy?”

“Hey Sugar-- uhm-- so you remember--”

“Are you okay?” She questioned, clearly worried at the shakiness of his voice.

“I’m fine, I promise, please can you just-- just send me the info for the therapy thing. Please.” He sighed. “I’m uh... I’m startin’ to believe I might actually need it.”

A pause remained for a moment, and he almost thought she hung up.

“...Bear?”

“Yeah?”

“What happened?”

tag list <3

@beebslebobs @thatone-brightstar @spr3id @deadandstill @777iii

#aster writes the bear #carmenmath #carmen berzatto #carmen berzatto fic #jeremy allen white imagine #jeremy allen white fic #the bear #carmen berzatto writing #carmen berzatto the bear #the bear fic #the bear writing #carmen berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto imagine

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sailoryooons · 4 months

Text

King of Tides | KSJ | Drabble

☾ Pairing: Pirate!Seokjin x Sea Demon!Reader

☾ Summary: Seokjin meets a ghost of his past when he and his crew stop to celebrate for the evening.

☾ Word Count: 1,969

☾ Genre: Pirate AU, Angst, Lovers to Enemies

☾ Rating: 18+ Minors are strictly prohibited from engaging and reading this content. It contains explicit content and any minors discovered reading or engaging with this work will be blocked immediately.

☾ Warnings: References to smut, explicit language, weapons and mentions of murder, betrayal, vague world building, Seokjin is an Asshole, brief references to childhood trauma, angst.

☾ Published: Friday, January 5, 2024

☾ A/N: Drabble 2 of the 100 Drabble Challenge is prompt #67, pirates! I had no idea what I was doing with this until I wrote it. It is obviously inspired by Pirate of the Caribbean with the whole Davy Jone’s chest thing, but I very much put my own spin on it. The ring is inspired by Solomon’s Ring, which is a Christian-centric mythology that Solomon had a ring that could summon the forces of Hell. So I did that but like… sea hell hahaha. I hope you enjoy this! I’ts very different for me!

☾ Disclaimer: All members of BTS are faces and name claims for this story. This is entirely a work of fiction and by no means is meant to be a projection, judgment or representation of real-life people. Any scenarios or representations of the people and places mentioned in works are not representative of real-life scenarios.

Main Masterlist ☾ 100 Drabble Masterlist ☾ Ask ☾ Song Inspiration

Seokjin is used to the occasional knife in the dark. As one of the most notorious captains and thieves on the seven seas, he’s even been the knife in the dark himself.

When he feels the pressure of a blade against his spine tonight, he’s not surprised. His crew is too drunk to see the threat standing behind their captain, and Seokjin has made the ridiculous mistake of letting a pretty woman lure him to a dark table in the corner, away from the noise and celebrating.

Seokjin immediately feels like a fool for letting his guard down, the worst mistake he could ever make.

The pretty girl in front of him grins and looks at Seokjin’s assailant before nodding her head and slipping from the chair. He grits his teeth, realizing she is in on it. He clenches his fist as he starts to turn, but the knife digs into his ribs. A hard push would send it right between the two of them and into a lung. It would be a slow, gross death.

The raucous noise of the tavern buzzes in his ear as a hand taps his shoulder, signaling for him to stand. He does so slowly, looking around the tavern to see if there’s anyone he can appeal to for his plight.

No one pays him any mind, hands going up dresses or down pants, wine flowing, and crowd singing. His crew is too busy celebrating. And why shouldn’t they? They’ve just stopped at their favorite port after a successful three years of hunting a timeless piece of treasure. A power that puts Seokjin on edge.

The ring sits heavy in Seokjin’s pocket. Only Yoongi his firstmate and Namjoon his chronicler know of the power in Seokjin’s pocket, too dangerous to be left on the ship with the remainder of the treasure. He doesn’t enjoy hiding the ring from his crew, but he hasn’t quiet yet decided what to do with it. How to explain what it is that it does without scaring the loyal members of his crew.

Slowly, a hand turns Seokjin around and walks him toward the stairs, still at knifepoint. He grins as he goes, leaning his head to the side to see the person who holds him captive. The knife digs harder into his back, a warning that makes him chuckle and turn forward, holding his hands up in defeat.

“If you wanted to lure me to your bed, you just had to ask,” he says, going up the steps. His boots are heavy on the creaking wood as he goes. “I am the most handsome of pirates, but I’m also quite liberal with my affections.”

His captor says nothing as they reach the second landing. Doors line either side of the hall. Seokjin can detect all manner of lovemaking and laughter beyond each closed door. He does not typically favor staying upstairs or renting rooms for whores, preferring the rocking of the ship in the harbor and the canvas of the night sky. It makes him unfamiliar with the second floor, but he counts his steps as they go.

They turn and go down another hall and stop at the last door of the right. It’s not a far run to get to the stairs and sound the alarm. Once he disarms his captor, he just needs to sprint and scream. He’s pretty quick on his feet and-

The knife prods him and he realizes the door to the room is open. He steps over the threshold into the room, glancing around. It’s simple enough. A single bed stands in the corner with a chest at the foot, a nightstand to the left, and a candle burning, smoke drifting toward the ceiling.

When the door shuts behind him, Seokjin’s muscles coil. He prepares to spring, hand sliding into the front of his jacket pocket, inching towards the small knife there-

“Don’t bother,” the voice says, knife ever-present. Seokjin’s hand freezes, recognizing the rasp of your voice anywhere. “That’s not the right knife, Captain.”

You’re right. The knife in his jacket pocket would do nothing against you, but the knife in his boot would. He’d grown lazy, no longer keeping the adamas dagger at his hip or within close reach. Three years haven’t made him feel safe, exactly, but he had started to think that you were still captive in that little home he’d left you in.

Evidently, it’s a mistake that will cost him.

Now he’s nervous. You push him further into the room with your palm but remove the knife from his back. He doesn’t reach down to the weapon in his boot, stuck between fear and the desire to see you - to talk to you again.

When he turns, his heart cracks open and starts to bleed.

The last time Seokjin saw you is fresh in his memory. You’d been chained to the bed you shared in a small island home off the coast of the Americas. He remembers the smell of your skin, like salt and driftwood. The cool touch of your lips against his burning skin. You always felt like the depths of the ocean, every part of you fluid as you’d fucked him last night, your breath sea breeze against his mouth, cries a haunting siren song.

And your eyes. Seokjin sees the inhuman blue-green glow of your eyes every night.

Now, those same eyes are staring at him, glowing in the dark. You stand so far in the shadows that it’s hard to make out any of your features or expressions, but Seokjin has your face burned into every part of his memory. The bow of your mouth, the slope of your nose, the roundness of your cheeks. It’s all there along with the knowledge that he’d betrayed you. Chained you. Loved you.

When you step into the light, Seokjin holds his breath. You’re so beautiful. It’s what lured him to you in the first place, a sailor to a siren, but he knows you’re so much more than a pretty face and glowing eyes. You’re also incredibly smart and wicked, a ruthlessness in you as brutal as the sea running in your veins, an unpredictably like a storm destroying the tropics.

A pirate by trade. Daughter of Leviathan by nature.

“You must be talented to get out of those cuffs. We should have used them more” Seokjin doesn’t know what else to say. You’re not advancing further into the room, and he’s worried reaching for his knife will startle you.

Behind him, the candle casts an orange glow on your face. It makes the sneer much more twisted, the furrowed brows as you glower harsher. Your features are sharper than he remembers, your eyes burning with the unnatural glow of a demon of the deep. You are murderous.

“I’m the favorite daughter of Leviathan, King of the Depths, Destroyer of Seas, and Maker of Tides. You think he would leave me to rot?”

“No, I suppose he doesn’t want that pretty face to wilt.” He tries to appear casual, spinning and tossing himself on the bed. You don’t move, eyes tracking him. “I suppose you’ve been following me all this time, then?”

“I have far more important things to do.”

“Perhaps, but you’d always loved revenge.”

“I loved you.”

There. You said it.

Seokjin doesn’t say anything for a moment, shocked to silence. Usually, you like to spar with your words, dancing around what you want to say with quick barbs and turns of phrase. Tonight, you cut right to it, leaving all playfulness out of your voice.

It makes his heart squeeze painfully. In the years that you sailed together, he cannot recall a time that you’ve ever been so direct. Even when you loved him most. Even when you were at your most vulnerable.

Perhaps you are here to kill him after all.

“So you’re here to win me back over?” he tries, desperate to get on familiar ground. Desperate to goad you. To make you snap back, to throw an insult. “You’ll need more than a knife to do that.”

“Give me the ring.”

“What do you want with it?”

“The likes of you shouldn’t have the power to summon the demons of the depths.”

“What if I’m in peril and need to call you?”

“You had me!” You roar, the force of your voice shaking the room, the candle almost guttering, the window panes shaking. He hears the scream downstairs, the entire building rattle with the rage of the ocean in your voice.

Seokjin drops the act, sitting up and squeezing his fists to fight the nausea of guilt twisting his stomach. He can feel your rage fill up the room like a solid thing, a cold pressure pressing on his skin as the candle on the nightstand flickers.

“Humans are not made to command Leviathan and his children” you growl, stepping further into the room. Standing closer to the light, Seokjin realizes your eyes are watery. He sucks in a sharp breath. He’s never seen you cry. “You are weak and petty, your lives but a speck of sand in fathomless oceans. You are selfish and greedy and cruel.”

“Are demons not the same? Do you not fight amongst yourselves for power? Do you not cause chaos among the seas? Do you not hunger for power, lust, and riches?”

“Those things belong to us.”

Seokjin stands abruptly. “Now they belong to me!”

“Seokjin.”

“Now I will command the seas. I will have the power to rein in the monster of the depths when he wants to destroy innocent ships. When he wants to send storms against islands. When he wants to swallow the souls on the sea. He will bow to me, now.”

“This is madness.”

“This is fair.” He feels his heart rate speed up. Feels rage pumping through his system. Feels like the little boy clinging to a piece of driftwood as the sea destroys the ship he and his family were sailing on, feels the burn of saltwater in his lungs as the ocean drags him down, feels-

“You’d risk the world for a sense of vengeance for your lost childhood?” your voice is barely audible, a sea breeze. “The infamous Captain Seokjin of the Blue Moon, Scourge of the Seas, so afraid of losing control of the tide that he’d dare assert his dominance over it.”

“Captain Seokjin, King of Tides has a better ring to it.”

You glance at his pocket where you know the ring sits heavy. He can feel the power ebbing from the cool metal as thought it senses you in the room. Like calling to like. A tool to control Leviathan and all of his demonic children of the sea sensing one of those very creatures in front of him.

“The sea will bow to no one.”

A blade glints in your hand. Seokjin finally realizes why you refuse to jest. Why there are tears in your eyes. You’re not here to negotiate or to let him loose. He truly has fallen out of your favor, and you’re here to take what he used you to steal.

He slowly bends down, watching you all the while. You let him remove the knife from his boot, kind enough to offer him a fair fight. “The sea loved you, you know?”

He knows you’re not just talking about the oceans he sails. His throat constricts as he nods. “I love her.”

You appraise him once more, uncanny eyes flickering. If his admission that there is still warmth flickering for you has an effect, it doesn’t show.

“Your love means nothing. You betrayed her and now you will meet your death, King of Tides.”

He grips his knife firmly. The ring is heavy in his pocket. “I welcome the attempt.”

#seokjin fic #jin fic #kim seokjin fic #jin x you #seokjin x you #jin x reader #seokjin x reader #jin fanfic #jin angst #bts fic #bts x you #bts fanfic #100 drabble challenge #pirate jin

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dokidokitsuna · 3 months

Text

RWBY: Next Steps

This is just a design collection (remember when I used to do those? 'Winter Mission', 'Summer Tour'?? Fun times~)...and it may be my last. Its only real purpose is to give me something fun to draw for the NeverFell Projects wrap-up series. The recent Adam and Cinder designs are technically part of this collection, too. ^^

These were much harder to do than those two, though...I've spent ~2 months chipping away at this set, trying and retrying to address several different RWBY design criticisms while still making the girls look good. ಥ_ಥ I've finally begun approaching success, though, so I wanted to talk a bit about these ideas.

Ruby The only one I managed to design in one try. ^^; This was my answer to the question I felt was posed by Ruby's Vol. 7 design: i.e. "how do we do a new Ruby design that feels more 'mature'??" Because I never liked how the V7 design attempted to do that. :/

Between the new hairstyle and the new 'generic adventurer' clothes, it felt less like they were trying to evolve Ruby Rose and more like they didn't like her original design and wanted to get as far away from it as possible. V1-Ruby was such an iconic look (and STILL IS), and yet there's no trace of it in V7-Ruby. None of the goth-lolita style or playful edge that even V4-Ruby managed to preserve...instead they just scrubbed everything out to start from scratch, with a new design that's honestly 'meh' at best.

So what I did was stick closely to V1-Ruby, while adding just a few big changes to make the look distinct. You say a 'combat skirt' is too childish for an older Ruby? Well then we'll make it shorts...but shorts that are just as frilly and cute as the original skirt, with a similar overall shape. You say her original hairstyle is too boring and 'safe'? Well, then we'll change it...by simply shaving half of it off. It's a much edgier look that simultaneously preserves the original shape of her hair: from every angle except front and back, her silhouette will remain the same.

You say you want to give her new shoes, but don't want the fandom to make fun of you for covering them in dozens of belts again? Here's a wild idea: cowboy boots. ^^ A totally unexpected, unique item that still fits in with the antique-ish vibe of her goth clothes.

Basically, I just wanted to prove that you can do something dramatically different with Ruby without completely abandoning her fashion sense.

Criticisms: The details are still lacking; I think I should work some red accents into her corset and boots. Also, I originally designed this outfit with a white shirt, and I kinda want it back (she had the team colors! R, W, B, and Y! ;_;)...the problem is that it clashes with the sheer thigh-highs. One must go...I'm sure I'll figure it out

Weiss The toughest of the bunch: I did three different Weiss designs before landing on this one. ^^;;; The big epiphany came when I realized that Weiss looks her best when she mirrors Ruby. The girls' original design concepts share a lot of features; I feel like the characters were designed to look like they belong together, and figured I might as well honor that.

ALSO-- and this was the biggest priority for Weiss' design-- I firmly believe that she should not look like a princess anymore. From a character designers' perspective, it is ludicrous that they gave her the giant Disney ballgown in the same volume where they put classism at the center of the plot and have her send her bourgeoisie father to jail. That right there is the definition of mixed messages...

I thought the whole point of Weiss' character arc was to distance herself from the uber-rich parasites of her family and fellow 'Atlas elites'. I thought we cemented that when she officially lost her "heiress" title in V4. o_O I expected her next look to ditch the crown and visually show that she's past the point of 'rebelling'-- there's no more authority in her life for her to rebel against; she's free now! But alas...

So as usual, I had to do it myself. This Weiss outfit is definitely still fancy, with the coattailed vest and ruffled sleeves, but there's a lot less 'decoration'; fewer jewels, fewer details. The construction is straightforward and simple. And of course, no more tiara. Instead I decided to give her a li'l snow pea flower and ribbon, which ended up inspiring her new periwinkle purple-y color scheme. Like her original design, it's actually fairly colorful, but does its job and puts the emphasis on the white elements.

Criticisms: ...Not many, this came out pretty good. ^^ I might reconsider the black coattails, but if I do I'll probably just switch it out with the indigo inner vest. I like the idea of her outfit construction mirroring Ruby's, but her color scheme mirroring Blake's, since they have a closer bond in NeverFell.

Blake Blake designs are notoriously difficult; if you wanna hear some great reasons why, I suggest you check out this old Twiins iink RWBY design ranking video, which always helps guide me when I do redesigns for the main 4. Anyway, this phenomenon makes it hard to describe what I did...I guess you could say I tried to combine all the best elements of all her outfits, while clinging to the 'fancy action girl' vibe of her original design.

I'm most proud of her new hairstyle-- I dunno why, I just enjoyed working on it and making those decisions. ^^ It's hard to tell, but it IS shorter; now shoulder-length instead of back-length. We make up for this with additional volume, emphasizing the waves in her hair texture by pushing them outward. And most notably: she keeps the ribbon. She just wears it differently, using it to accentuate her ears instead of hiding them. This way, we keep the point of interest on her head while still showing her character growth.

Criticisms: Infinite, countless. This is a good look, but something is definitely still off. ^^;;; I think some additional detail in certain places (not sure where yet...) might help 'finish' it, so to speak. Maybe some extra yellow accents...? Also, the bow obviously gets lost in her hair this way. I've tried several color changes and don't like any of them; I think I may just have to texture it differently in the final product. Fingers crossed...

Yang Another tough one...I only made 2 design drawings, but the colors took several rounds of trial and error. I think my excitement over finally arriving at a good color scheme TODAY was what spurred me to make this post. ^^;

Anyway...there is a specific piece of Yang design criticism I hear fairly often that drives me up the wall: people commonly complain that she doesn't wear enough yellow; that she doesn't represent her character color well because all she wears is a yellow shirt. And the character designer in me wants to rip my teeth out whenever I hear this, because it blindly ignores the giant fairy-tale-inspired mass of yellow that is her hair, and the purposely attention-grabbing pops of yellow that make up Ember Celica. They're not "clothes", technically, but they're still part of the design! It's like saying a character with green skin can't represent the color green if all their clothes are black...without realizing that maybe their clothes are black BECAUSE they have green skin, in order to draw your attention to it...!! (╬▔皿▔)╯I just jifjkdsnfksahujknsjnfufh

...Anyway, anyway...the point is, it's difficult to take a character design with so much natural yellow in it and add yellow clothes and still have it read well. But because I like a challenge, I decided to take it on. I think the difference between the mustard leather and neon yellow hair is large enough to make it work, while still feeling casual enough for everyday wear. The champagne off-white she wears in her 'Hunter' outfit (which heavily inspired this) looks great, but it feels too 'classy' to me; like something specifically meant to dazzle the audience with her beauty for one special adventure, not for her to wear often.

On that note, my secondary mission with this design was just to make Yang look cute again, by following the structure of her V1 look, and even adding a little skirt on top of her battle shorts, which looks surprisingly natural considering she almost never wears one.

I don't know what happened in the canon to make the character designer forget the 'Yellow Beauty' part of her character concept; tbh even if her gender presentation gets more masculine she can still look pretty. Designs like Ozma, V7 Qrow and V4 Ren show that they understand this, but choose to cover Yang up in flavorless sheets of beige anyway. :T Making sure she always has a boob window isn't enough; the clothes themselves need to say something too.

Criticisms: ...Honestly, none? I think this might be solid. :> We'll see what happens when I draw it properly. I hope the white socks work out, because then she'll successfully be wearing the RWBY color scheme, which fits her (former, implied...) role as the glue holding the team together.

#rwby #yang xiao long #ruby rose #weiss schnee #blake belladonna #character design

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blackbird-brewster · 5 months

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Fanfic Author Asks

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#fanfiction #ask game #ask me anything #author ask game #fanfic authors #fanfic ask game #tumblr asks #send me asks #writers on tumblr #writeblr #send asks #mine

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doumadono · 6 months

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For sinful Sunday <3

I think Hawks would absolutely love playing with toys, or more specifically to playing with you. Using those remote controlled toys to whether just for fun behind closed doors but also for making both of your outings more... interesting. The way he'd stay cool and collected from the outside acting like nothing was happening, interacting with others with ease like he hadn't been playing with you for hours. Watching as you struggled to look norma,l craving that sweet release as much you waiting the embarrassing situation to end even though you couldn't lie how much it turned you on...

....Yeah that's that... now I'll run to hide with my thoughts heh🏃‍♀️ hope you have a good day!♡

A/N: Your thoughts are undeniably intriguing, dear Anonnie!

SINFUL SUNDAY

Hawks was a master of composure, a skill honed over years as a pro hero. But what truly set him apart was his secret talent - he loved playing with toys, particularly when it came to you.

You discovered just how far he could take it when he introduced the idea of using remote-controlled toys to make your outings more exciting.

One sunny afternoon, you found yourselves at a high-class charity event, surrounded by well-dressed guests and sparkling chandeliers. As you engaged in polite conversation with the attendees, Hawks stood beside you, impeccably composed. Little did they know, he was discreetly controlling a tiny device nestled inside your cunny. His voice was smooth and unwavering as he said, "You're doing great, darling. Enjoying yourself?"

You struggled to keep your facade as you felt the vibrator throbbing on higher level, whispering through gritted teeth, "You're such a tease, Hawks. I'll kill ya ne day, I swear to God."

He simply grinned, his golden eyes sparkling with mischief. "I aim to please."

Throughout the event, Hawks toyed with the remote control, sending shivers of pleasure through your body when you least expected it. You bit your lip to suppress your reactions, desperately trying to appear normal.

When you thought you couldn't take it any longer, Hawks leaned in and murmured, "Just a little longer, sweetheart. We don't want to arouse suspicion."

Amid the elegant ambiance of the event, you and Hawks found yourselves seated at a long, mahogany table, strategically placed next to the CEO of the charity. It was a prestigious spot, and you knew that the success of this interaction was crucial.

Hawks, ever the daring one, had other plans in mind. As the CEO, an older, distinguished gentleman, began to speak about the charity's mission, Keigo slid the remote control beneath the tablecloth, careful not to attract any attention.

The moment the CEO's conversation reached a particularly serious note, Hawks took advantage of the opportunity. His fingers deftly manipulated the controls, causing the discreetly placed device inside you to hum to life at full power. Your breath hitched, but you managed to maintain an outward appearance of attentiveness, glueing a pleasant grin to your lips.

The CEO continued speaking, oblivious to the escalating tension on the other side of the table. Hawks leaned in slightly, his voice a hushed seduction as he whispered, "Let's make this dinner a little more interesting, shall we?"

You bit your lower lip, struggling to stifle a moan as Hawks skillfully increased the intensity even more. The charity CEO continued to discuss their projects, while you shifted uncomfortably in your seat, squeezing your thighs together, feeling some of your slick juices soaking through your thong. Your body, however, betrayed your facade by reacting to Hawks' mischievous control.

The more composed and distinguished Hawks appeared on the surface, the more you wanted to squirm and let go. It was a thrilling battle of self-control, and you couldn't help but be turned on by the audacity of it all.

As the dinner conversation moved on to lighter topics, you couldn't help but shoot Hawks a pleading look, silently begging him for release. He grinned, his eyes dancing with wicked delight, and gave you just a taste of what you craved, leaving you yearning for more.

At that moment, the dessert course arrived, providing a much-needed distraction. You savored the sweet treat in your mouth, trying to regain your composure. Hawks had temporarily relented, allowing you a reprieve, but the gleam in his eyes promised further excitement.

As the dessert plates were cleared away, the CEO turned his attention to you and Hawks, engaging in a more personal conversation. It was the perfect opportunity for Hawks to resume his teasing. His fingers played with the remote control, and you felt a subtle, delicious vibration between your thighs. It was a struggle not to gasp audibly, but you managed to maintain a facade of polite interest in the CEO's anecdotes.

Hawks leaned closer, his warm breath tickling your ear as he murmured, "You're doing so well, babe. Just a little longer, and we can continue this game elsewhere."

The promise in his voice sent shivers down your spine, and you fought to maintain your poker face. It was a dance of restraint and desire, with Hawks orchestrating the melody of pleasure as if he were a maestro.

The CEO extended a polite smile and said, "I couldn't help but notice that your cheeks are flushy, miss Y/N. Are you feeling alright, my dear?"

You composed yourself as best as you could, trying to hide any lingering effects of the erotic torment you had been experienced throughout dinner. "I apologize, I think it's a little too warm in here, sir."

The CEO's gaze turned sympathetic, and he nodded understandingly. "It can be quite overwhelming, these grand events. But I'm glad to see you back on your feet."

You thanked him for his concern, casting a mean glance to your dearest boyfriend.

As the evening drew to a close, you excused yourself. With Hawks in tow, you hurried out of the dining room, leaving the CEO and the event behind.

Once you were alone, the tension that had been building all evening finally found its release in a passionate embrace. Hawks, his confidence undiminished, continued to use the remote-controlled device to bring you to the peak of pleasure and beyond, all while whispering sweet promises of more adventures to come.

You locked eyes with him, a potent blend of frustration and desire reflecting in your gaze. "Damn you, Takami," you gasped, "I can't hold back any longer!" With those words, the tight knot in your abdomen finally broke, and your climax surged through you, coating your thighs in a heated rush of slick juices.

Keigo leaned in, capturing your lips in a passionate kiss. "I swear, I'll more than make it up to you once we're back home, Y/N," he whispered between breathless kisses, promising a night of unbridled passion to come.

#doumadonos sinful sunday 🔥#sinful sunday #mha smut #bnha smut #my hero academia smut #anime smut #smutty smut smut #smutty blurb #sinful sunday anon #divider by cafekitsune #hawks smut #keigo takami smut #keigo takami x reader #hawks x reader #hawks x reader smut #takami keigo #takami keigo smut

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justcomeoverandbiteme · 10 months

Text

𝓐𝓹𝓹𝓵𝓮 𝓸𝓯 𝓨𝓸𝓾𝓻 𝓔𝔂𝓮

𝟏. 𝐅𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐌𝐞𝐞𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠

𝐒𝐡𝐮 𝐒𝐚𝐤𝐚𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐢 𝐱 𝐒𝐢𝐫𝐞𝐧! 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐡𝐞'𝐬 𝐬𝐨 𝐛𝐛𝐲𝐠𝐮𝐫𝐥 <3

Part 2

{𝐂𝐖: 𝐨𝐛𝐣𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐨𝐟 𝐰𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐧, 𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐨𝐟 𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐝 (𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐢𝐭), 𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐝 𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐚𝐠𝐞, 𝐬𝐢𝐛𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐮𝐞𝐬 𝐥𝐨𝐥}

After the countless failed attempts at the Eve project, Karlheinz decided it might be best to level the grounds. While humans had the flair of added variables to his experiment, they were weak. Vulnerable. And frankly, too quickly disposed of. As try as he might, his sons never did care to make their toys last.

Previous brides had the restriction of ignorance, thrown into a jarring world of infinite night and bloodshed, it was no surprise they passed by the hundreds. However, perhaps with blood picked from the land of Eden itself, may his attempt at matrimonial successes with his sons finally be accomplished.

A new variable has been added to the experiment. A creature of daunting song and inexplicable beauty. Captivating all who stand within its presence, the tides have reversed, blossoming apples in the wake of Adam just begging to be picked.

The eldest son couldn’t say he was surprised another bride was being sent to the Sakamaki manor. The letters stamped with red wax had formed a home in a forgotten pile somewhere within Shu’s room, the amount reaching in numbers that could compete with Kanato’s wax doll collection.

However, there was a piece that had managed to catch him off guard.

“𝐏𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞. 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐫𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐛𝐞 𝐮𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐚𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐮𝐧𝐚𝐥 𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐛𝐚𝐠. 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐫𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐛��𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐝𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐡𝐚𝐬 𝐛𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐩𝐢𝐜𝐤𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐲 𝐦𝐲𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟 𝐭𝐨 𝐞𝐧𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐮𝐭𝐦𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐬𝐮𝐜𝐜𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐝𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐝 𝐡𝐮𝐬𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐝. 𝐇𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐛𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐢𝐧𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐦𝐞𝐝 𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐨 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐯𝐚𝐥, 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐫𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐬 𝐛𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐝 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐒𝐡𝐮 𝐒𝐚𝐤𝐚𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐢 𝐭𝐨 𝐠𝐮𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐚𝐬𝐜𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐲 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐒𝐚𝐤𝐚𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐢 𝐫𝐮𝐥𝐞 𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐕𝐚𝐦𝐩𝐢𝐫𝐞 𝐂𝐥𝐚𝐧 𝐚𝐬 𝐚 𝐑𝐨𝐲𝐚𝐥 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟.”

…

Matched?

The letter was discarded, slipping from the man’s diligent fingers and swaying to the floor.

Predetermined?

The idea was sickening, but perhaps not too shocking. The Eve Project had gone nowhere. Any fruits his father hoped to pick from the experiments’ outcome would be found instead in a drained woman or a pasty wax figure. In hindsight, who’d think to send a wide-eyed human, hot with pounding blood to a mansion of ravenous vampiric youth with a taste for fear?

Only the old man.

Shu scoffed and let the thought slip from his mind as he plugged in his earbuds, leaning his head back to rest upon the sofa armrest.

A week later

Undoubtedly, the thought had slipped too far into his mind, seemingly lodged into the deepest crevices of his brain.

Shu had missed the bride’s arrival on purpose, too unmotivated to remove himself from the tub of warm water. The woman would inevitably fall to the hands of his brothers- coming face to face with her wouldn't alter that outcome at all. If she had been previously informed, and truly planned to court him, she would state the matter as it was.

But Shu didn’t have that sort of confidence for anyone, much less to believe a bride would go out of her way to state her arranged marriage to her arranged husband.

“Good-for-nothing.”

Shu inwardly grunted, keeping his eyes closed.

“The bride has arrived. However she informs me that she has specifically been chosen to be your bride, is this true?”

Shu was silent for a moment, allowing the question to hang in the prickly air. Then, the man sighed. “Yes. The old man sent me a letter.”

Reiji scoffed. “To think of all his sons, my father would choose you to inherit the crown.”

Shu didn’t speak, contemplating submerging his whole body underwater to drown out Reiji’s spitting voice.

What a bother. The thorns lacing his brother’s words pierced the svelte melody of his music, ruining a perfectly good ballad.

“Your presence is demanded of in the main foyer. The bride requests it.”

Shu sighed, tempted to argue that if the bride wanted to see him so badly, she could come seek him out herself. But Shu knew his limits. This bride had specifically been chosen by no one other than his father, and while that didn’t vary much from the previous women who had entered this house, for some odd reason, he had been the predesignated groom. There was only so much interference Shu was willing to push before potentially being punished by his father for ruining his suddenly altered project.

The man lifted himself out of the water slowly, grunting as if he bore the weight of clay skin when really, the only weight that clung to his skin was that of his drenched clothes. Reiji clicked his tongue.

“Do not soil your first impression with such a disheveled app-!”

The glowing atmosphere of the foyer seemed to burn through Shu’s closed eyes as he appeared before the great steps of the mansion. The candelabras that lit the room emitted a fiery warmth casting a glaze that made the walls appear as though coated with amber. His nose twitched, detecting an unfamiliar scent amidst the fog of blood and hunger. Yet surprisingly, the twisting fragrance of fear was absent from the air. And instead, replaced by something else. Something different.

Shu blinked, coming face to face with Laito, whose green eyes were slitted from the smile on his lips. “Wow, groom-to-be finally decided to show his face~” The man cooed, a glint of jealousy lying beneath the man's cat-eyed gaze.

“You’re dripping everywhere.” Kanato whined, clutching Freddy closer to his chest and furrowing his brows at the oldest brother.

There was still that scent in the air, blurring Shu’s concentration as Laito stepped away with his signature giggle. His nose searched through the vampiric scent that had settled itself into the mansion and let out a soft sigh at the sudden whiff of sweetness, almost teasing in its subtlety.

Where was it coming from-?

“Just because you’re the oldest you think you can suddenly get everything?” Ayato’s fingers were suddenly clutching at Shu’s woven sweater, pale skin tightening against the beige wool. Shu glared at his younger brother’s face, Ayato’s teeth baring with hardly kept rage. “Damnit, Shu! What do you think you’re better than Yours Truly or something?!”

“Actually, Shu had little say in the matter at all.”

A feminine voice broke through the rising tension.

There.

Shu’s attention flitted to a figure only a few feet away. How he hadn’t noticed her before, he had no idea. With his eyes now fully trained on the bride, the fragrance seemed to amplify itself, unfolding itself like a cloud of wisteria to cloak the room.

She spoke again, plush lips parting. “It just happened we matched upon compatibility. The King figured if there was a picked son prior to us meeting, it would decrease the chance of mortality if there was less…” Your hands, manicured delicately and painted an elegant blue waved over an area of air. “..infighting.”

Shu had never felt so awake in the presence of anyone, much less a bride. And yet, he couldn’t tear his gaze away, letting his blue hues fall over the curvature of your body, accentuated by the tightness of the white silk blouse you wore which stylistically loosened right at your breasts. Your sleeves matched the flounciness of the bust material, traveling like sheer clouds down to your wrists. Black leather encased your lower body, high waisted leggings twisting deliciously along your hips and legs. Damn he hated his father, but the man knew how to pick ‘em.

When Shu looked upon your face, he paused for a moment, frozen. You were gorgeous. Undeniably alluring with eyes that seemed to tempt even the most persistent of sailors to dive to their depths. A small grin played on your lips, glazed with the slightest of red gloss to enhance their softness.

A siren.

It took him a moment to realize you were no longer smiling at him. And instead looking at Reiji, who had teleported back into the main foyer. Disdain began to unfurl in Shu’s chest, a sense of wrongness arising at you turning your attention to his brother, of all people.

“It appears to me that my brother has failed in informing us of your presence, Miss (L/N). Even more so, of your clan heritage. Forgive me for the confusi-.”

Your voice sliced through Reiji’s own, the airyness of it almost overwhelming in the mansion that was almost rotting with the constant tension. “It’s whatever, I don’t mind.” You spoke dismissively. “I would really just appreciate being personally introduced to my future groom.”

The ease that your voice sent through his body was almost sickening, widening a gap in the constant dismality of his mind that previously, only music had been able to achieve. Shu felt like he could finally breathe even though he hadn’t needed to for the centuries he’s existed. He was sure his brothers could feel it too, your tone infectious in its sobriety, that even Ayato had backed off the minute you began to speak. Reiji, who usually upon being interrupted would instigate an immediate punishment, was rather silent, brows furrowed at your smiling face.

“...Very well. Shu and Miss (L/N) are to be left alone until dinner.”

One by one, the brothers dismissed themselves until finally, all that was left was you and Shu.

You were smiling at him, Shu realized, surveying him with those captivating depths that seemed to swallow him whole. So often it was spoken that a siren’s song was their most deadly trait, and yet here he was, unable to tear his eyes away from your gaze.

“Shu Sakamaki.” His name unfurled like petals off your tongue, and the scent of wisteria was suddenly dizzying. “My name is (Y/N), it’s a pleasure to meet you.”

You were grinning now, with teeth glinting in the candelabra glow. Shu found himself staring for a moment, frowning subtly at your canines. They were sharp and slightly thicker than the rest of your teeth. With their almost hooked like tips, it was no question they were meant to be sunken into the flesh of prey. Beautiful, yet deadly.

He looked back up at you, a sudden blankness in his face. Of course. The countless prey sent to the castle was counterintuitive, an expectation for success that was like hoping for frost to thrive in a desert. A predator stared back at him, flickering between a beautiful woman and a creature that bared its teeth.

A threat sent from his father.

“I hope you know I have no will to pursue the throne.” He mumbled, eyes growing half-lidded to limit the disorientation that came with your presence. “So if that’s all you came for, I recommend you choose someone else.”

The siren before him blinked, eyes widening into pools of confusion. Until suddenly, you giggled. Like soft bells twinkling in the moonlight, the blissful sound danced throughout the foyer.

“Oh, Shu~. I don’t want the throne.” You laughed gently, fingertips rising to hide the sharpness of your grin. “I just want you.”

#diabolik lovers #diabolik lovers x reader #shu sakamaki #shu sakamaki x reader #sakamaki brothers x reader #siren! reader #vampire x siren #diabolik boys #diabolik lovers blog

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soapyghostie · 26 days

Note

I felt kinda weird sending a request cause we talk outside of here but oh well

Do you think you could write Nubbins and Danny with a reader who does photography, horror is one of the reasons I got into photography so idk, sorry if I worded this weird

I had the motivation to do one more for now since I haven’t been very productive in my classes so far today. Hope you enjoy!

The Ghost Face/Danny Johnson

OMG! Can he help?! Danny is drawn to your passion for photography because he loves photography too! He admires your ability to capture the beauty of the world around you, and he often finds him lost in the amazingly well shot photos you took. Almost as good as his photography skills.

Danny, being a journalist under his alter ego Jed Olsen, understands your creative drive behind pursuing your passion for photography. When you express your desire to open a photography studio, he’s not only super supportive but also is excited about the prospect. He sees this as an opportunity for you to showcase your amazing talent and creativity to the world. He, also, wants to help you start and run your photography business too!

As someone who appreciates the power of storytelling through images and his articles, Danny will bring up the idea of collaborating with you on various photography projects. He’ll even ask you to photograph events that he’s having to write about so he can publish your beautiful photographs for the whole town to see in his well written top tier articles.

Danny understands the challenges of starting a new venture, especially in a competitive field like photography (He might be the top journalist at the Roseville Gazette, but that doesn’t mean he became that great overnight. He’s had a lot of practice). He offers his support not only emotionally but also practically, helping you with business planning, networking, and promotion.

As a journalist, Danny's schedule is pretty busy during the day and also he spends a lot of time with his ‘hobby’ (if you know what I mean), yet, he still finds time to make an effort to prioritize quality time with you (I don’t know how he does it so don’t ask me). He understands the importance of nurturing y’all’s relationship amidst y’all’s respective careers and often suggests going on photoshoot outings together as a way to bond and unwind. Danny enjoys brainstorming creative concepts and themes for your photoshoots.

When you finally open your photography studio, Danny couldn’t be more prouder. He attends the grand opening with a camera in hand, capturing the excitement and anticipation of the moment. He smiles and y’all’s shared passion for storytelling will continue to strengthen y’all’s bond and drive each other to success.

Nubbins Sawyer

When Nubbins finds out that you photograph for fun just like him, he’s excited. Obviously, your photography technique is very different from his and he doesn’t fully understand the artist form of your photography at first; however, he quickly becomes fascinated by the way you capture the world through your lens. He wants to know why your photographs aren’t dark and blurry like his.

Nubbins often finds himself admiring your work in awe, marveling at the way you can turn the most mundane scenes into something beautiful and captivating. You’ll look over your shoulder and find him just staring at one of the many photos you’ve taken in his hand, unmoving. Who knows how long he’s been standing there admiring your work. Actually, the better assumption is how long has he gone staring at that photo without blinking.

Nubbins spends the majority of his time hitchhiking and looking for ‘food’ heading towards the Sawyer property. He’d enjoy it if you tagged along with him and brought your camera to document your adventures together. Your hobby is a great way to immortalize y’all’s experiences and memories, creating a photo album of y’all’s life.

Nubbins encourages and supports you. He would point out interesting objects and compositions for you to take pictures of during y’all’s unorganized photoshoots. He’ll also scout for locations or offer input too.

Nubbins is protective of your camera equipment, ensuring it’s always safely stowed away when not using it. He understands how much your gear means to you and goes to great lengths to make sure it goes undamaged, knowing how much their photography means to you.

Nubbins often proudly displays your work around the Sawyer house for his brothers to see. He takes pride in showcasing your talent to them and often boasts about your skills to his brothers. When he shares your photographs with his brothers, Nubbins finds himself cherishing the photographs, reminding him of all the moments y’all shared together. Each image holds a special place in his heart, serving as a visual representation of y’all’s love and adventures.

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locustonlioden-blog · 2 months

Text

Hazbin Hotel Episode Rewrites

Episode 1 (will be doing all of them)

Take out the “precious daughter” line. This makes no sense seeing how Lilith ditched the family and Lucifer is supposed to be super distant. We get 0 evidence these were involved, doting parents that put a bunch of effort into raising Charlie. Perhaps change it to “And now, its up to their precious daughter” meaning Charlie has taken it upon herself to mend things, instead of making it sound like she’s been coached all along for her role.

Adam and Lute are put off to find out its Charlie meeting with them, not Lucifer as usual. The meeting was arranged because of the very important matter of an exterminator angel being killed for the first time ever, and an important discussion was needed. Adam is much less a 1 dimensional comic relief dude bro.

“So, are you taking over extermination arrangements for now on?”

“Uh, no...actually, it was just kind of out of the blue that he told me about the meeting and asked me to come-”

(seriously, Lucifer supposedly didn’t know about the hotel, or at least he pretended not to, lets just assume he does but didn’t let on to Charlie that he’s watching her)

“Did he tell you why?”

“Ah, no-but, it was really convenient because you see, I have an idea that would actually END the need for exterminations-”

At this point Adam is seriously put off. They just found out demons can kill angels-this has to be a distressing revelation. Now of all times, the guy they have a serious deal with chooses to send someone who wants to talk about ENDING the exterminations? This would almost feel like a threat. So now they want out of the deal? No way! He would feel a need to reassert dominance and get things back under control. Who do these demons think they are? Cue their aggressive mocking and song, followed by throwing Charlie out as they do in the actual episode. He doesn’t even bother to explain why they are moving the extermination up. He’s not going to talk to Charlie. She has not established any sort of repertoire with him that makes him feel as though she is worth having an actual discussion with about a serious matter.

Commercial subplot: Alastor offers a deal to Vaggie in order to help make a successful commercial for Charlie.

“You’re insane, I’d never make any sort of deal with some shitlord

“Hm, such a pity, Charlie will be so let down to see how you fail to manage her project even a day without her. She has to do everything. Why are you even around? Do you really think the princess of hell needs physical protection from a sinner with a spear?”

*sighs* “You making the video for me isnt going to help that.”

“My dear, it wasnt raw power that bent all of Hells sinners to my will. You seem to know me quite well...(this is where we can reintroduce the Alastor lore Vaggie game to Angel Dust in the pilot, instead of waiting until the Mimzy episode to give anything) ...so you see, I have no problems getting things done, and I would be willing to teach you. Imagine what Charlie could achieve, and how much quicker, if she had a competent partner at her side…”

“I’m not making a deal! And you can have fun entertaining yourself with an empty hotel. Nobodys going to want to come to a place a powerful overlord like you so obviously takes as a joke”

“Well, I WILL make a worthy advertizement for the hotel, but I’m going to do it the RIGHT way, and do it for radio!”

She doesn’t make a deal here, but the seeds have now been sown. Her insecurity and feelings of inadequacy and worthlessness are gnawing. She has little feelings of self worth-would it be so bad to sacrifice herself in a deal with Alastor if it meant assuring Charlie achieves her dream? She is tempted.

Vaggie uses a little cunning here. While Alastor manipulates the inhabitants of the hotel to give fantastic line deliveries using a variety of amusing tactics, Vaggie secretly records with the video camera. At the end of the day, Alastor smugly announces that he has the radio ad all ready. When Charlie returns, Vaggie cuts in and says radio AND television ad! The ad then starts to play and is cut off by the news like in the actual episode. Alastor was initially amused she tried to make a tv ad anyway, but he sees enough to tell that she recorded him making the radio ad. His smile tightens, eyes narrow, and he fades off.

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel thoughts #hazbin hotel charlie #hazbin hotel alastor #hazbin critical #vivziepop critical #hazbin hotel criticism #hazbin hotel critical #hazbin hotel rewrite

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sseomtada · 25 days

Text

being [ruben dias]

you receive a visitor while working late & make a pivotal decision.

warnings: 18+... | wc: 5093 | 4/8

“Did you get the package I sent?”

You’d finally made time to have an extended FaceTime call with your mom who was more than happy to give you an earful of her recent doings. The ramblings that once served as an annoyance now provided a strange comfort. Perhaps it was because it reminded you of the time when your biggest worry was whether or not you’d ace your next test.

“Yes,” She laughed. “The English are terrible with food, but they got tea making right.”

That made you join in with her. The traditional food here did leave much to be desired, but thankfully, a wonderful immigrant population has made their culinary world highly diverse and tasty.

Earlier, your mom sent you a picture of her posing next to the Nike ad your company had helped brand. She said she could tell by one look at it, without even knowing you were a part of it, that it had come from your mind. In that moment, her eyes were a bit shiny.

You felt your heart soften. There were rarely times where she visibly showed how proud of you she was, her words were always at the forefront. Your own eyes teared up as you looked up and blinked.

What did you think of it?

Just how proud of you I am.

Collaborating with big brands and names, celebrating your successes in rooms with insurmountable net worths - it was all great. None of it came close to providing the same amount of validation as hearing those words come from her. One of the biggest driving forces behind you not giving up and chasing this crazy dream was her. You couldn’t put into words how relieved you were when you felt that her sacrifices for you had paid off.

“I’ve got to start getting ready for work, but I promise I’ll talk to you soon.” You looked at the time with a sigh.

“Tell Aki I said hello!” She waved. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” You returned the gesture.

Though things were going well with Bana’s latest projects, you’d been dragging your feet when heading into the office for the past few days. There was something like a weight on your chest akin to the feeling of when guilt gnawed at your insides.

That conversation you had with Ruben played in your mind over and over whenever it wasn’t otherwise occupied. You didn’t tell Aki how you’d gotten back to your place, or the exchange that occurred. There wasn’t any particular reason behind your withholding, you just needed time to process it.

A definitive answer still had yet to come to your latest question, what would you do now? Was there even anything to do at all, anything that could be done? The truth behind the breakup was just…sad. More than anger or pain, you just felt disconsolation.

It seemed as if you and him had both bitten off more than you could chew. You were overly enamored with him and placed him on a pedestal that he wasn’t ready for and didn’t want to be on.

The way things ended would never be excusable, but you now had a sense of understanding that made it more digestible. You were able to start working on that wound and healing it to the point of a mild ache instead of the agony it once generated.

“Do I get a gold star for beating you in today?” Aki gloated at the door.

You faked a laugh. “I’ll think about it. Mom says hi, by the way.”

She got all giddy at that and started reminiscing about your mother’s cooking. Before she could make your stomach start speaking in tongues, you told her to grab Cindy for your morning meeting in the conference room.

The project with Erling was going well so far. After your first conversation with him and his assistant, they sent over some of the ideas they were leaning more towards as well as additional points they’d like to meet.

“I’ve been playing with these fonts and color schemes for the logo and typography.” Cindy presented on the large screen.

“Awesome,” You nodded. “I’d send those over to him so you can get that finalized by the end of the week.”

“Sponsor option one is willing to pay a pretty penny, but they do want exclusivity for a period of time. The second is coming in lower with the benefit of more contractual freedom and a door open for bonuses if key revenue markers are met.” Aki gave her update.

They were both good proposals to consider, so you gave her the same directive as Cindy.

When it came to your specific workload, there was still plenty to do. You showed them the outline of what you’d done so far and received feedback on features that could be useful as you continued to build.

Website design was one of the more headache inducing parts of marketing, one that would usually be handled by a design team. You didn’t have the cashflow just yet to hire or outsource someone to do this aspect.

That left you tapping into the Python and CSS skills you developed in your IT minor to get the job done. Thankfully, technology had come a long way to make website building much easier than doing it from absolute scratch.

There were a few tweaks you had to make to the work you’d already done and more features you wanted to complete before clocking out for the day. Given the busy and focus intensive nature of the tasks at hand, your girls left you to it. They let you know when they were headed out through the company’s Slack.

You weren’t sure if your blue light frames were doing anything, or if your eyes were just exhausted from staring at the monitors for hours on end. A quick eye drop and coffee break was all you could trust yourself to do.

Any longer than that and you would be convincing yourself to shut down your computer. It would only make you feel like shit once you got home and showered though, considering you were already down to the last two bullet points on your to-do list.

You sat back down at your desk, took a deep breath and got back into it. Add a few more lines of code in the backend software, run it to test to ensure there were no glitches, and repeat the process. One more bullet point was left to go when your phone pinged.

Is this still your number?

Ruben’s name sat above the message. You slid your glasses up to your hair and picked up the device, contemplating if you should reply or not. It was kind of funny that he texted you that considering that he hadn’t changed his own either - hence the contact still popping up with his name.

Depends on who this is.

You couldn’t help pulling his leg a little. Knowing him, he would obviously gather that this was still, in fact, your number and you were taking a crack at him. Three dots appeared shortly after your reply.

That’s fair.

Are you busy?

Your bottom lip pinned between your teeth, brows meeting. It was pretty late on a weekday, a time when most would be winding down to go to bed if not already sound asleep. Unfortunately for him, perhaps, your answer wouldn’t be what he wanted to hear.

I’m still at work, so…yes.

Those little dots appeared again, his acknowledgment floating up without hesitation.

Okay, I’ll leave you to it.

That was a conversation ender if there ever was one. You placed your phone back to the desk, face down, and slid your glasses back on. Tackling the last bullet point suddenly became even more of an uphill climb than it already was with that fresh dialog banging pots and pans in your head.

It was mentally difficult to disengage from the conversation. You started to wonder what Ruben wanted. Why did he decide to message you tonight at this hour, days after the last time you spoke? What would he have said if you did tell him that you were free?

With a groan, you spun around in your chair until you grew dizzy. After the stars cleared from your eyes and the pit in your stomach settled, you grounded yourself enough to get back on track. All that pondering could wait until you were tucked under your duvet.

You returned to user interfacing , trying to approach the website so far from the visiting fans and prospective client views. Everything was in top shape so far, making you throw your hands up in the air gratefully. Just after you saved and tripled checked that you’d done so, the office’s door buzzer went off.

If Cindy or Aki had come back to check on your wellbeing, they would’ve just entered the code. Deliveries weren’t made after a certain hour either. You pulled up the security camera feed out front on your monitor to see whether or not you’d have to call the cops.

The sight it brought disarmed you, but didn’t entirely provide relief. Ruben peered around and when he spotted the lens, he waved. He held up the bags in each of his hands, clearly full of take out. Responding to that before you could was your belly, an embarrassing gurgle echoing through your office.

“I could’ve been gone by now. Or lying.” You raised a brow after opening the door.

“Yet here you are.” Ruben shrugged.

A tense period passed of you two looking at each other. He was wondering whether or not you would let him in and you were tossing the same question around in your head. Eventually, you stepped aside.

“Ten pounds says you haven’t eaten anything since lunch.” Ruben set the bags down on the coffee table. “No, breakfast.”

It was exasperating how he had the tendency to be absolutely on the money. You regrettably haven’t grow out of a habit he knew all too well about, which was neglecting your meals in an effort to get your tasks completed.

“Hm. What’s on the menu?” You grunted and sank to the guest sofa.

“Lo mein…butter chicken…” Ruben pulled the containers from their respective bags. “Kebabs. I wasn’t sure what you’d want most.”

And so his irritating ability continued. Even though both assumptions were made on the basis of the past and were somewhat of a shot in the dark for your present self, they both held true. Your taste in cravings still stood the test of time.

“Why are you here, really*?*” You couldn’t pretend like this was normal.

There was something bigger than an elephant in the room. It carried the immeasurable weight of everything that had transpired from the moment you weakly kicked his football back to him, to your first kiss and dance, and every juncture leading up to the only time he’d made you cry tears of sorrow.

The uncertainty of what was to become of you and him carried the bulk of that heaviness.

“The easiest way I can answer that is by asking you a question.” Ruben paused, lowering the napkins. “Would you prefer it if we live in the same city, run in the same circles, and basically act like we’re strangers or would you rather do…this?”

A frustrated puff of air left your nose.

“That’s just it.” You ran your hands down your face. “What is this?”

“I don’t know. All I know is that I can’t do the alternative.” He sat beside you. “I can’t act like we’re two people on a morning commute who happen to make eye contact and stutter through small talk to ease the awkwardness. Can you?”

There it was. That **was the solution to the problem that had been harping on you since that last conversation. You couldn’t figure out what it was you wanted to do, what you could do now, because you hadn’t even considered the other perspective - what did you not want?

It was exactly as he said. You didn’t want to carry around your history and act like it never happened. That made hearing his name, or even thinking about the slightest chance that you would run into him feel suffocating.

You wanted to breathe. Though it was obvious that neither of you knew exactly how to go about that yet, Ruben had at least taken the first step. All things considered, an olive branch extended in the form of your favorite foods wasn’t the worst place to start.

Your response came in the form of motioning towards the butter chicken.

“I should’ve bet on that too.” Ruben shook his head with a small smile.

The train had left the station, but there was no destination in sight. Yes, it was agreed that acting like you didn’t once mean a significant amount to one another wasn’t the best way to go about things. That still left a gaping sense of what now, which rang louder than the silence as you dug into your meal of choice.

You decided to take the next step this time. It was a painfully ordinary way to break the ice, yet one that could lead to other paths. Or it could have you opening doors you would rather not see behind.

Seven years seemed like a lifetime. There was evidently a story surrounding how he went from playing locally to now being part of such a big foreign team, so you started there by asking him about it. Ruben visibly relaxed more as he shared his trajectory.

It was bittersweet to hear all that you missed. The big matches and the grand occasions you once had envisioned was a part of your future too. You had a sense that the feeling was mutual for him when the question was returned to you.

Ultimately, what you were both most conscious of was the fact that you’d made the dreams you whispered about late at night in each other’s arms come true. And somehow, they had led you to be sitting right here. Together.

“How’s Aki doing?” Ruben asked and then laughed to himself. “I know she can still pack a verbal punch. She didn’t hold back at that launch party.”

That piqued your interest. She and him always had a sibling relationship with banter filled exchanges that sounded borderline abusive to those who didn’t know they were close. How badly did she chew him out to have him fearful?

“Did her choice of words allude to you finding the nearest ditch and falling into it?” You snorted.

“Okay, not that much of a punch. She told me to not do anything after I…” He bit his lip, considering. “After I told her that I didn’t want to hurt either of you again.”

Gravity thickened once more, but not in the same sense as before. The wheels were moving less heavily now with the flow of communication going like it always had. You guessed his words were a harrowing reminder of how you’d gotten to be here in the first place.

For a moment, you’d forgotten. It began to feel the way things did back then and him saying that brought reality back to the forefront. The relationship you had with him, regardless of what that looked like, would never be the same as it once was.

“What do you mean by she told you not to do anything?” Your subconscious backtracked a bit to a point you were confused about.

“Her words verbatim were then stop. It was like a warning, she was telling me not to act on what was going through my mind.” Ruben replied candidly.

It felt as if you were approaching one of those doors you thought about earlier. You took a beat to decide if you were going to turn the knob and face whatever laid in wait bravely, or walk away with blissful ignorance.

Except…there would never be the latter in your case. If you didn’t dare to look at or hear the things that could frighten you, there wouldn’t be a moment of peace in your spirit. You would toss and turn, night after night, going through a cycle of beating yourself up for shying away and then convincing yourself it was for the best.

No more running. You recall the silent promise you made to yourself when you drank with Aki not long ago. It was time to make good on that.

“What were you thinking then?” You set aside your nearly empty container and turned to him.

“I was thinking the same thing I am now.” When he looked at you, his eyes were resolute. “That I still love you. I did back then and I never stopped anywhere in between. The difference today is that it doesn’t scare me anymore. To be deeply by you and giving you it all in return.”

Your lips parted with nothing and everything behind them.

You wanted to yell at him and call him every bad name in existence. You wanted to admonish him for only just now being ready to accept your feelings for him, the very thing he once saw as a burden. But you couldn’t, because that wasn’t what you truly desired.

His revelation did end up frightening you in the way you feared the most. That whatever you discovered would be like having a mirror held up to you. Aki played dumb that night for your sake because you’d been too much of a coward to admit it - the real reason you hadn’t been on more dates than you had fingers on one hand.

“And what if I don’t anymore?” You weren’t sure if your words were born of that same cowardice or from the spite you so badly wanted to be real.

“I’d be a fool if I thought you did.” Ruben sighed. “I’ve already made peace with that aspect of us…remaining in the past.”

What was left unsaid was the reason he brought it up in the first place. Beside you asking, he could’ve just given an answer that was pacifying. Something that didn’t imply that he also wanted to know whether you still felt the same or not. Yet, he chose to go with the unfiltered truth with hopes that he’d pull the answer out of you.

“I was always the smartest one between us.” You took the bait indirectly.

Ruben looked at you then with knitted brows, proving your point. You were sharper than he was in many ways, though not by a measurable amount. Only a few seconds went by before recognition struck. His gaze softened, a hand reaching for you hesitantly.

Yours met it halfway and pulled him in. It was a move he didn’t anticipate causing his full weight to come down on you. There wasn’t room to analyze the awkward position of your body, half sitting, half lying down. That task was impossible when he was chest to chest with you, his nose a hair away from your own. Those dark pools of his swallowing you whole.

He inched closer, then paused. “Can I-”

You nudged your head up slightly to mold your mouth to his. It was just a prolonged peck, yet your heart was pounding like the ground under the galloping of hundreds of stallions. When you sank back down, you were breathless.

Ruben cupped your cheek, his thumb stroking the supple skin tenderly as his gazed fluttered all over your face. Your eyes closed against the feeling and you only had seconds to savor it before he initiated the second kiss.

He trembled against you, muscles tensed with forced composure. You didn’t want that. Your arms curled around his neck to bring him even nearer. When his tongue finally slid against yours, a part of your memory cracked open.

It left you breathing erratically in the same way you did when on the verge of tears. You’d forgotten. Though your mind had filled in the blanks with similar sensations, you’d forgotten the exact way he felt and tasted.

Kissing him felt like hot summer days of the past. The baking of your skin suddenly given reprieve under gray clouds that rolled in unannounced, and then the skies breaking to douse you. Instead of running, you always let your head fall back and your jaw slacken - feeling, tasting.

A small, desperate sound sounded from the back of your throat. How much of him had been lost? It must’ve been too much to bear to recall how his hair grew thickest at the base of his skull and how strong his grip became as his need for you grew.

“Can you say it?” Ruben rasped.

You blinked dark spots from your vision, trying to grapple with the meaning of his inquiry. It was you this time who was struggling to keep up. Once you were able to, you smiled up at him. The reason why every thought of him still hurt and why you dreamt of him so often was telling. Of course you did and yes, you could admit it at last.

“I still love you too.”

That was all he needed to hear for his final tether to snap loose. He tilted your head further, his tongue reclaiming yours - slick and warm, much like the state of things between your thighs. Fingers curled around the back of your knee, tugging, and no more had to be done for you to shuffle until he was fully nested in the middle of your legs.

You caressed along the sides of his torso, bunching up his shirt along the way. His lips detached from yours to let you remove it completely, and when you chased after them hungrily, you were met with denial.

Ruben had other plans, immediately latching onto the skin of your neck while his hands worked deftly to unfasten the buttons of your blouse. You arched into him, wanting more. Needing it after been deprived of him for so long.

Your palms greedily ran over every inch of skin they could find, grasping from the beginning of his hips all the way up to his shoulders. He’d always felt sturdy beneath your touch, but today he felt indestructible.

Muscle upon muscle rippled as he moved against you on instinct. Ruben’s breath was ragged against your collarbone where he sucked and nipped. That bottomless, gnawing yearn you had for him grew ravenous. Your hips pressed upwards and into his, lips trailing along his hairline.

“I missed you.” The words tumbled from you freely.

You didn’t think there was ever a time in your life where you’d felt this exposed, vulnerable. Coming back home to a place you thought was lost to you for eternity would do that, you supposed.

“Yeah?” He grinned against your skin.

You nodded promptly.

Ruben slid a hand up your stomach. “I missed you too. So much.”

“Come here.” You whispered.

His lips travelled up from between your breasts until they met your own again. You exhaled into them, trying to swat away your impatience to allow yourself to relish in every line and dip. When that battle could no longer be fought, you twisted beneath him.

Your hands shot to the belt low on his waist before his own could. Though the series of actions that followed were done with fervor, they might as well had lasted an eternity. Your fingers undid the buckle, his hands assisted your toes that pushed at those stubborn last layers. He went to remove the slick soak panties revealed by your ridden up skirt, but you refused to wait any longer.

“Please - ” A frustrated whine ripped its way out.

Ruben leaned down to hush you with a languid and ardent kiss. It had your toes curling into the upholstery before the feeling of him rubbing your thinly covered heat could. You moaned appreciatively, but kept pressing up into his touch - more.

Two of his digits slipped the fabric aside and sliced through your folds. That was better. You sucked on his tongue, your lower half writhing to move your swollen clit against his fingers. Maybe it should’ve been embarrassing to experience yourself react this vividly, but it wasn’t. You were beyond touch starved and the first hands to make contact were none other than his. In a way, it was oddly poetic.

“Ruben…” You called to him with your voice again, urging alongside your body.

He heard you, teeth flashing against your mouth, “Just making sure you’re ready.”

Despite your state that was bordering on delirium, you picked up on a slight tone to his statement. It felt like it had two meanings - the first spoke obviously to your physical state, and the second aimed more at your mental. Were you ready to do this again?

You could never be a stranger to Ruben. Certainly never just a friend or acquaintance. As long as you both existed in the same place and at the same time, it was always going to be you and him, together.

“I am.” Your fingers comb through his hair. “I want all of you.”

His head dropped to your chest, lips brushing over the top of your left breast. You clenched around nothing in response to him sliding his cock against you. The sound of him coating himself in your wetness, much less the feel of it, had you on the verge of madness.

When he rested his tip at your opening, you took in a shaky breath. Air slowly exited your lungs as he gradually entered you. What a stretch it still was to make sure you took every inch of him. You hugged his strong back while you adjusted.

Soon, you began circling your hips and then working his length. Ruben was quick to pick up your rhythm, pulling just a little out as your back arched and pushing all the way in when it curled. You were taking him with ease now - warm, slippery juices making a mess between your legs.

Fuck, he felt so incredible. It would’ve been useless to fight the urge to moan and coo. Those sounds coupled with slurred, half-finished variations of his name fell from your lips as your muscles began to tighten.

Ruben lost himself in you. His groans came as a direct response to your mewls, eyes fixated on the pleasure overcoming your features. He thrusted into you, going deeper than he’d been before and you gasped.

Your hands flew to his face. You cupped his stubbled cheeks and pressed your forehead to his own. With your eyes locked firmly in on his, you found yourself nodding urgently. That’s it, that’s the spot. Your ears were ringing too loudly for you to determine if you’d said those words aloud or not.

It didn’t matter either way. There was no one who knew your body better than him. Ruben eased his strokes at the very moment you needed him to and not a minute sooner. With each huff of air and roll of your hips as you came, he was there. His lips trailed along the underside of your chin, then your neck.

“Doing okay, baby?” He checked in when you stilled.

You were slightly vibrating at a higher frequency than usual and a bit hazy behind the eyes, but hadn’t felt better in ages. To make that clear to him, one of your hands reached lower to stroke and reposition his cock.

Ruben entered you again and it was easier than before, but twice as stimulating. Your moans were muffled by his neck that your face had pressed into while his thrusts into you were slow and testing. You slung one arm over his shoulder and wrapped your legs around him tight, pleading.

His pace quickened in response. Your head fell back onto the sofa, eyes blinking shut as you felt his hands sliding up your torso softly. He laced his fingers with those of your free hand and brought the conjoined pair to rest over your head.

You squeezed down as you rocked against him, shuddering with each drag of his cock through your walls. Ruben sensed how close you were again. His tongue was waiting for your mouth that opened soundlessly, lapping up your own with hunger.

“Tell me where, love.” He grunted, speeding towards his end as well.

“Stay.” You didn’t miss a beat. Knowing he would second guess your request, you reinforced it for good measure. “Stay in me.”

Ruben whined breathily and that was enough to send you tumbling into the abyss. You were a pool of uncontrolled chaos until he grabbed hold of your hips. His own staggered with each shot of his cum that settled deeply into your core.

The seconds that followed were blissful. You stroked up and down his spine as he kissed you sweetly. Ruben nuzzled his nose against yours, a move he knew you favored. It did the impossible in making you feel even more satiated than you already were.

And then, reality began to remove those rose colored glasses.

It wasn’t in a negative way. You didn’t regret having sex with him or saying any of the things that you did. With post orgasm clarity setting in, it allowed you to take in both of your half-dressed, wrecked states as well as realize you just did all of that in your office. On the common area sofa.

Your hand covered your mouth, a laugh bubbling from between your fingers. Ruben couldn’t stop himself from joining in too. He pulled out and you yelped, trying to no avail to keep all he’d given you inside.

“You’re definitely gonna need a new chair.”

#ruben dias #ruben dias imagine #ruben dias fic #ruben dias x reader #ruben dias x you #being

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