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#so bizarre because I always did before then
devildogdemon · 3 days
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Bracing myself for committing potential Everlark sacrilege here. Still, I’m curious: Does anyone else ever dabble in the What If/headcanon that Peeta made up his original crush on Katniss? That in the beginning, it really was all just part of his and Haymitch's plan to hype Katniss up, and help boost her favor as the super rare chance for a District 12 Victor? But in the course of the first games, and particularly while committing to the star-crossed lovers act in the cave, he ended up actually falling in love with her?
This was actually my original interpretation the first time I read the first book. That all the rest of the backstory is still true: Mr. Mellark pointing Katniss out, Katniss singing the Valley song, etc. But it was just how Peeta remembered her, not the beginning of years-long pining.
Quick disclaimer: I'm not trying to argue for this headcanon's legitimacy. In fact, I now know it's not true. While writing this post, I remembered that Peeta told Katniss during the Victory Tour he was jealous of Gale before he officially met her. So by his own words, Peeta's crush predates the first Hunger Games.
Still, reading the first book on its own, it’s a headcanon I always come back to, and I think works in its own way sometimes.
For one thing, it’s a bit beyond my suspension of disbelief that Peeta was reaped alongside the girl he was silently obsessed with for 11 years. It feels way more like convenience to me than destiny or anything like that. Not to mention, this is supposedly a crush that began and persisted long before Peeta hit puberty.
But it’s not just the realistic aspect that draws me to this hc. It's also because I love how much it contributes to the 'accidental soulmates' aspect on Everlark. The idea that these two were not meant to fall in love. That if their lives went the way they thought or planned, they never would have spoken. They would have rarely crossed paths, if at all. They would have married different people, if anyone when it came to Katniss, but Gale would be the sole candidate if she did. And they would have lived out their days and died as strangers. But through a series of completely unforeseen, bizarre circumstances in this cruel world that brought them together in the most horrific of ways, from it emerged a real bond between them. Even if it started as a charade for sponsors, it morphed into a real bond of love and care that was genuine, and beautiful, and selfless, and real.
My take is essentially that Peeta took his mother's final words to him about Katniss as bitingly true, not that that made them any less hurtful. And from that point forward, he figured if he was going to do something worthwhile before his inescapable death, it would be to help his District. And the way to do that would be to help the girl who could do that better than he ever could.
Sure, there are things like him keeping hold on Katniss' hand during the chariot ride, and teasingly prodding her for a kiss while she's treating him. But...ok, I hesitate to project onto a boy who was and is leagues above me in every way (feel free to flame me for this). But as a former 16-year old boy myself, who was roughly that age when first reading the story, I kinda figured he just wanted to experience a taste of romance before his inevitable death? Like the PG version of "I don't want to die a virgin."
Anywho, gonna whistle past that embarassing hot take lol. But I think this hc gels well too with all his actions Katniss finds questionable: telling her everyone was watching her during the chariot ride, the crush revelation, teaming up with the careers to throw them off her trail, and fighting Cato. He's doing it all for her to win, even at the expense of himself. Not because he has feelings for her (yet), but because he believes in her.
But it's at the point when Katniss finds him in the mud bank, and she does everything in her power from then on to keep him alive, that maybe his feelings for her take a turn for the real. She shouldn't be trying to keep him alive. It’s of no benefit to her whatsoever. But she refuses to let him die. She will not even discuss it. It makes zero sense to him. No one's ever valued his life this much, even his own family. Why is this girl he barely knows, who never noticed him before, suddenly sparing no expense to keep him alive? To the point of risking her own life for him?
This comes to a head when he tries to rebuke her for going to the feast:
"No! Just don't, Katniss! Don't die for me. You won't be doing me any favors. All right? "Maybe I did it for myself, Peeta, did you ever think of that? Maybe you aren't the only one who...who worries about..what it would be like if..." "If what, Katniss?" "That's exactly the kind of topic Haymitch told me to steer clear of." "Then I'll just have to fill in the blanks myself."
On that last line, I took that as Peeta seeing for the first time that Katniss actually does care about him. More than anyone ever has. That she wants him to live, just as much as she wants them to win. And that's when he truly falls for her. Sadly, he makes the mistake of presuming she feels the same way. That's the only blank he filled in incorrectly.
But did he, though? Because what follows that last line is the first kiss between them that makes Katniss feel "stirring in her chest" and "wanting another." This whole conversation made her want to shut the world out, because "whatever I'm feeling, it's no one's business but mine."
So maybe their feelings for each other kinda awoke at the same time? And deep, deep down, the two of them could sense that shift in emotion toward each other. Where performance became reality. For Peeta, much stronger. But for Katniss, she's not quite there yet.
Now yes, I'm aware Katniss gets Peeta to tell the story of his crush AFTER this happens. But as Katniss points out prior to this, he's the silver-tongued one. Not to mention an established good liar. So keeping with the idea this was when he first noticed her, maybe he blends the facts here a little, and decides to make this the point of where his crush began? He probably had it in the vault anyway since the interview.
Finally, I thought this better explained Peeta's anger at the end, when the mask is finally lifted for him. Because logically, why would he think what started as an established act would become real for Katniss? As Katniss says, they were strangers who'd never spoken before all this. Is it because he still thinks she can't lie? Well she proved him wrong there, if only for a moment. I thought the more likely reason he thought Katniss' feelings for him became real, is because that's exactly what happened to him. As I mentioned before, his presumption wasn't entirely off, and Katniss' words that "not all of it" was for the Games are true enough. But it doesn't make the revelation any less crushing for him.
I really do wonder sometimes what kind of story this would have made for if Suzanne took this approach in the sequels. I know now it's an incorrect headcanon, but I'm curious if anyone else ever shared it while reading the first book, and wonders the same.
If you read all my silly ramblings about a now-debunked headcanon, I am both eternally grateful and eternally sorry. Feel free to share, concur, roast, or do whatever in response. Thank you and may this ship be ever on your dashboard :)
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marzipanandminutiae · 2 years
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Just out of random curiosity, feel free to ignore this if you want, what are some of the random few 1920s dresses you like?
This Lanvin robe de style:
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(robes de style in general- those dresses, usually for evening, that had very full skirts. sometimes even over little abbreviated panniers, which is lightly hilarious for the 1920s, I think)
this late 20s Worth evening gown:
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(those chiffon gores are a really interesting design element. I used this one on a moodboard for a hypothetical 1920s Romeo and Juliet production I costume-designed in college)
I am forced to concede that opera coats are pretty cool, like this blue velvet one sold on 1stDibs some years back:
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they also had some pretty cool shoes. these are by Ignazio Pluchino, from 1925:
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And I don't totally hate all Deco jewelry. I'm especially partial to this filigree style of ring:
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("Hey, Marzi, doesn't that kind of look like the ring that a dear antique dealer friend gave you, which you accidentally left on the sink in an airport bathroom in 2018?")
([muffled sob])
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child-of-hurin · 1 year
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Another thing about Erendis and Aldarion that absolutely gets me is how Erendis seems to reflect about their falling out majorly in terms of gender. We have her famous speech to Ancalimë in the Unfinished Tales:
Thus it is, Ancalimë, and we cannot alter it. For men fashioned Númenor: men, those heroes of old that they sing of – of their women we hear less, save that they wept when their men were slain. Númenor was to be a rest after war. But if they weary of rest and the plays of peace, soon they will go back to their great play, manslaying and war. Thus it is; and we are set here among them. But we need not assent. If we love Númenor also, let us enjoy it before they ruin it. We also are daughters of the great, and we have wills and courage of our own. Therefore do not bend, Ancalimë. Once bend a little, and they will bend you further until you are bowed down. Sink your roots into the rock, and face the wind, though it blow away all your leaves.
And in The Nature of Middle Earth* we find this bit:
As Erendis said later, [the Númenóreans] became a kind of imitation Elves; and their Men had so much in their heads and desire of doing that they ever felt the pressure of time, and so seldom rested or rejoiced in the present. Fortunately their wives were cool and busy – but Númenor was no place for great love.’
Aldarion's only gendered comment on this conflict is when he tells his father:
I will go from this misenchanted isle of daydreams where women in their insolence would have men cringe. 
But otherwise he doesn't seem very invested in or aware of the war of the sexes: in fact, he famously changes the laws of Númenor to allow Ancalimë to be heir, and part of his motivation is framed as a desire to strike a blow against Erendis. Erendis is much more insistent (and insightful) on seeing their domestic problems through the lens of a systemic social issue.
OTOH, Aldarion does see their domestic problems as fundamentally tied to the social norms, and reflected on the social sphere. When Erendis sends Ancalimë to attend his ascension to the throne but refuses to come herself, he says:
‘Not for this, at least,’ said Aldarion. ‘It is far below my hope of her. She has dwindled; and if I have wrought this, then black is my blame. But do the large shrink in adversity? This was not the way, not even in hate or revenge! She should have demanded that a great house be prepared for her, called for a Queen’s escort, and come back to Armenelos with her beauty adorned, royally, with the star on her brow; then well nigh all the Isle of Númenor she might have bewitched to her part, and made me seem madman and churl. The Valar be my witness, I would rather have had it so: rather a beautiful Queen to thwart me and flout me, than freedom to rule while the Lady Elestirnë falls down dim into her own twilight.
It's not that he's wrong; it's just that this is his fantasy, not Erendis's. In the tale until that point, whenever they clashed, she withdrawed. Aldarion here doesn't remember that, or realize that they're playing very different games! Erendis is striking on the personal, intimate, domestic sphere; Aldarion's domestic sphere IS public and political (and how else could it be, being the prince and heir!).
The general feeling I get from reading this tale, honestly, is that both Erendis and Aldarion have extremely accurate insights and valid points about the stifling social norms they're bound to... and yet, at the same time, that none of those things were more responsible in their domestic unhappiness than their own personalities and unwillingness to compromise ⚰️
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margueritestjusts · 4 months
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tbh the musical does one of the worst jobs adapting marguerite's character and i think that's because wildhorn and knighton misunderstood the purpose of marguerite's character and her motivations. there's a lot of internal emotional angst that she has (which gets neglected when the focus is shifted on percy imo lmao) but there are ways to balance them out, as seen in tsp '34.
i think this fault with the musical is shown the most is in the fact st. cyr barely gets any coverage? besides like. the opening number, the wedding, and the one off mention in the garden scene, when that is basically one of the most important aspects of her character in the novel. it's the source of her guilt and the cause of the estrangement, and also taking away armand's part in the st. cyr thing. him being beaten almost to death is the whole reason why margot denounces st. cyr and he ends up getting executed. in the musical it seems like she's done it for no reason (which, i mean... understandable from percy's pov) but then in the footbridge scene she doesn't give ANY explanation besides "chauvelin made me do it" and instead the main conflict is "will my husband slutshame me because i slept with another guy before i married him?" ??????????!?!?!?!?!?!?
i know that it would be a valid worry in this time period, but frank wildhorn HIMSELF said he doesn't want to write a 1905 story. so WHY would you make the fear of being slutshamed a main component of marguerite's character—and have chauvelin slutshame her in the process ("what would your husband think if he knew what sort of woman you are?")—when that wasn't in the novel????? it's just extremely untasteful and gross imo.
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*argyle voice* there is some clownery happening in the fandom tonight my dudes
but seriously, to make a long story short, a lot of y’all REALLY need to learn the difference between “bad writing/bad t.v” and “I personally did not like the direction they took the storyline/characters”
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gregmarriage · 9 months
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my dad always conveniently forgetting i’m gay snd saying that i can’t be because ‘i haven’t been with anyone yet’. it makes me laugh so hard at how much he doesn’t know imaoooo
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bluejutdae · 2 months
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best friend Stray Kids saving you (or being saved by you) from a bad date | Chan x you
this will become a series, I’ll make a scenario like this for all the members. Minho | Changbin | Jisung | Felix | Seungmin | Jeongin
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genre: romance, friends to lovers
warnings: asshole guy who thinks sex is required in exchange of a dinner
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“I’m sorry but I really have to go, it’s a family emergency. But I’ll call you.” This guy is really pissing you off, but he’s tall and pretty muscular and the vibes you got from him during the (luckily short) date make you uncomfortable.
“Are you really using this lazy excuse? I invited you to dinner, I’m gonna pay, so the least you could do is to put it out there!” You blink in disbelief, he really is a creepy guy. Chan is on his way though, so the thought comforts you a little. You reach into your bag and grab a few bills and, as you place them on the table, you give the guy a sarcastic smile. “I can pay for my own dinner.”
Grabbing your jacket you turn your back to him, ready to leave, but the asshole grabs you by your arm and yanks you towards him. You don’t have the time to do anything because a hand is suddenly around the guy’s wrist like a vice.
“Let her go immediately or I’m going to break your arm.” You’ve never heard Chan talking with such ice in his voice and a shiver runs along your spine.
“Fuck you both. I should have known you were a frigid bitch!” the guy lets you go and raises his free hand in surrender. Before letting him go, Chan looks at you for the first time since his arrival. “Are you okay?” You nod, confused. You thought your crush for Chan was long gone, but if the butterflies in your stomach are any indication, your crush is alive and burning.
Not even 5 minutes later, in a cab with Chan sitting next to you, you catch the end of your best friend’s sentence: “…can’t believe that asshole!”
“You know what’s funny? He called me a ‘frigid bitch’. Isn’t that a bizarre insult? What does it even mean?” Now that you’re with Chan, you’re calm and not scared anymore.
You hear him laughing, shaking his head. “Like anything that came out of his mouth made any sense… but really, are you okay?” You nod again. You’re not scared, you’re not uncomfortable, but something in your chest trembles at the idea of parting with Chan. “Can you stay over tonight?”, you ask quietly.
When you close the door, the atmosphere is uncommonly quiet and tense. Did you make Chan uncomfortable? Did he have other plans? Is he annoyed with you for always needing him? As all those thoughts run across your head, he slips out of his shoes and goes straight to the kitchen, feeling at home in your small apartment. “Can I steal some ramen? I didn’t have the time to eat a proper dinner.” In lieu of an affirmative answer, you wash your hands and start preparing a quick dinner for Chan. “I’m sorry I hijacked your night, Channie.”
“What are you talking about? My plans involved ramen at the dorms and hearing Hyunjin and Jisung screaming against the tv. They started a new drama”, he explains watching you moving around the kitchen. He loves to look at you while you’re busy, while you’re too occupied with something else to notice him studying you, watching you with love in his eyes. Tonight was once again proof you only saw him as a friend and nothing more: otherwise you wouldn’t have gone on a date, right?
Wrong.
You spent ages crushing over him, but once you were sure he felt nothing for you, you tried (in vain, apparently) to get over him.
You place a steaming bowl of food in front of him and sit at the table, looking at him.
“No more lame dates. No, you know what? No more dates.”
“You let a couple of bad guys ruin your search for true love?”
Well, he’s not gonna complain, but he also doesn’t want a bad experience to scar your hopes for romance. “Nah, they’re not worth it. My perfect match is not interested in me anyway.”
Fuck, you shouldn’t have said something like that, now he’s gonna ask questions.
“Perfect march, uh?”
You wave your hand, almost slapping away the topic. “Eat your food, Chan.”
“I thought you told me everything,” he pouts and you’re a weak weak person, how can you be tough in front of his pout?
“There is someone I like, I liked him for a while but it’s unreciprocated, so there’s no point in talking about him.”
“Then he’s dumb. Tell me his name?”
“You kinda know him, so I’d rather not… you know, don’t wanna make it weird.” Chan looks at you with a weird something in his eyes you can’t really understand, but for the sake of your secret you let it slide.
“Movie?”
The movie has been on for at least an hour but neither of you is really watching it. You’re cuddled on the couch, Chan’s head on your lap and your fingers slowly playing with his hair. It’s one of his favorite cuddling positions, and you love it cause you have the chance to watch him without being noticed.
“I wish you’d tell me who he is.”
You freeze in surprise, fingers stilling on his head.
“Chan…”
“No wait, listen for a second.” He sits now, and bites his lip. “We’ve always told pretty much everything, but there are things I haven’t told you either. So I will tell you something secret about me if you tell me who he is.”
“Why do you wanna know?”
“Because!”
He’s quick to get on his feet, walking on the small carpet in front of the tv. “Because I wanna know who’s this dumb guy who is not in love with you. What’s not to love? He’s lucky enough you are interested in him, something I’d give an arm for, and he’s not on his knees worshiping you?” He then freezes, like something hit him and trains his eyes on the floor. “Forget what I said”.
What did he say? Are you drunk and incapable of understanding or Chan just said he’d give an arm to have you interested in him? Something swells into your chest and you decide to be bold for once.
“Do you like me, Chan?”
He stills his pacing, gaze still trained to the floor, and nods carefully.
“It’s you.”
“Mh?”
“The guy I like, it’s you.”
He’s gonna have a sore neck tomorrow, considering the speed in which he raises his head.
“Me?” You nod, with a hopeful smile on your lips.
“I was convinced you felt nothing for me…”
You don’t know which one of you moved first, and it doesn’t really matter. What matters is that you’re kissing, now. You have his wet, soft and pillowy lips on yours, his tongue asking to be let in your mouth, your hands holding the other tight, almost to make sure this is real and you’re not going to vanish any seconds now.
“We’re such a clichè” he says on your lips, laughing cutely.
“Maybe. But I like it anyway.”
If being a clichè is what brought you two finally together, then so be it.
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midnightcrw · 3 months
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Provocative
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Pairing: Alastor x fem!reader
Summary: Lucifer visits the Hazbin Hotel because his daughter called him, but there he sees a good friend he hasn't seen in a long time.
Warnings: Swearing, even though it's only one swear word (this is fluff, by the way)
a/n: Since you all wanted a second part, I finally wrote one, although I really wasn't sure how to continue. I tried my best, and unfortunately, I'm not that happy with it, but hopefully, you all will like it somehow / Part 1
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A headache threatened to make itself known as you looked unimpressed as the King of Hell shook your shoulders, causing you to rock back and forth.
"Did your parents drop you on your head when you were a kid?" Lucifer asked in a desperate tone, not wanting to believe that you and Alastor were a thing (obviously still not knowing that you're married to each other).
"Maybe," you said nonchalantly, ready to push him away if he didn't stop shaking you.
"But-" that's it, you thought as you pushed Lucifer's hands away from your shoulders, surprising him by that before cupping his face in your hand, squeezing his cheeks tightly as he stared at you with wide eyes.
"Listen to me," you began in a stern tone, glaring at him, making him visibly swallow. "You're going to let your daughter show you around, or I'm going to skin you infront of everyone."
With that, you let go of his face as you dusted off your hands, as if you had touched something dirty.
The rest of the residents could only stare with shocked expressions. Fortunately, they hadn't heard what you had said, but from what they had seen, it was definitely intense, as no one would dare do such a thing to the Ruler of Hell.
Though Alastor didn't look shocked, he seemed to be fuming as one of his eyes twitched while the crazed grin never left his face.
"Okay... Anyway, Dad. Look at this lovely parlor where people can get to know each other and share secrets and stories and intimate feelings!" The excitement was vivid in Charlie's tone as she had her beautiful smile on her face.
She was already trying to move on, wanting to make her point to her dad and you appreciated the fact that you weren't in the spotlight anymore.
Thinking that you were finally getting some peace, you sighed in relief before you felt Alastor's head on top of yours.
"Tell me, darling. How long have you known this little pesky, but surely powerful man?" The 'powerful' was emphasized, as the static seemed to get even more grating with his snippy tone.
Alastor was not the jealous type, you knew that. But he always had his moments, loving to meddle in other people's affairs while hiding his own.
Huffing, you turned around and looked up at him, "While you were gone for seven years, I might have befriended him."
The anger was evident in your voice as you did not explain further. Not only had your husband left you for a few years out of nowhere, but now he was suddenly trying to pry information out of you.
Alastor just laughed at your answer and shook his head while your hands clenched into fists.
And before you could curse him, he suddenly moved much closer, almost pressing his forehead against yours. "Surely for nothing of lustful nature," he whispered sharply, sounding almost disgusted as he uttered the word 'lustful'.
"Maybe I should have," two could play this game, and you certainly weren't going to back down now, since he loved to provoke you so much.
Hearing your reply, the static increased as his antlers grew before he suddenly disappeared in front of your eyes, now standing further away from you.
"Charlie has a very unique vision," your husband began as he approached Charlie, speaking very animatedly, "I am happy to fulfill her bizarre requests," he said, placing his hand on the blonde's shoulder as she thanked him.
Of course, seeing that didn't make Lucifer happy at all, since he was already planning to kill Alastor when he got the chance.
And to be honest, at this point, you couldn't care less, almost ready to encourage Lucifer.
"Quite an impressive young lady. We're all very proud of her." The man dressed in red knew what he was doing as he pulled Charlie closer.
Somehow, even though he was angry, the short man managed to steer the conversation to another topic, such as getting introduced to the rest of the people in the hotel.
With a smile on her face, Charlie pulled Vaggie near her, "This is Vaggie. She's my girlfriend."
You had probably never seen Lucifer so relieved as a grin made its way across his face, "Oh my golly, you like girls?"
You truly wanted to bang your head against something, knowing that he was going to embarrass himself.
"Yes, so do I. We have so much in common. You put her there, Maggie," he said as he pulled Vaggie into a bone crushing hug, making her a bit uncomfortable with his enthusiasm.
"He didn't even get the name right..." you muttered, rubbing your temple in frustration.
And of course, it wouldn't be Alastor if he didn't continue to annoy you further, "Everything all right, my sweet?"
"Would be much better without you here," you said, avoiding eye contact, not wanting to deal with him right now.
"Is that so?" Alastor whispered in your ear with a toothy grin on his face, looking pleased with himself as you flinched at the sudden closeness.
All you could do was exhale sharply as you stepped away from him, even though he teleported right back into your personal space.
Ignoring him, you just watched the rest of the residents.
"Hello, I clean." Niffty giggled to herself as she grabbed hold of Lucifer's coat, causing him to stare at her with an uncertain expression on his face.
"Don't you dare throw the chandelier to the floor," you whispered, already one step ahead of him.
"Oh, and how well you know me," Alastor said in a delighted voice, and now you wished you hadn't told him that, because it seemed that another plan was brewing in that big head of his.
Without warning, your husband suddenly put an arm around your waist as he walked you closer to the rest of the people.
"You must be proud of Charlie since she has already found people who want to redeem themselves," the grin didn't leave his face as usual as the attention was once again back on you and Alastor.
Lucifer's eye twitched as he looked at you, not liking the fact that the deer was holding his friend so close.
"Sure I am," the short man said as he pulled you out of the radio demon's grip, causing the static to be heard.
"Doesn't seem like it," Alastor said quickly, jumping to the next topic before Lucifer could interject in annoyance, "I even remember the exact moment Charlie needed help, and of course, being the perfect gentleman, I couldn't help but lend a hand." He chuckled to himself as he suddenly grabbed your hand, wanting to pull you to him, but Lucifer didn't let go of your hand, but nonetheless he continued to talk anyway.
"You could almost call me dad," Alastor said with a sinister grin as both men continued to pull on your hand.
"Surely no one would call you that," the King of Hell said with contempt in his voice as he glared at your husband and suddenly turned his eyes to you, "I promise you, you can do better than this. Have you seen his haircut?"
"I see it every day," you muttered.
Charlie didn't seem to be in a better mood than you, as she let herself fall onto the sofa while Vaggie patted her head. And somehow Angel Dust was eating popcorn, even holding the popcorn bag in front of the Princess of Hell as she started to eat some of it while they all watched the three of you.
"In fact, she sees it every day and every night," Alastor added with a crazed look in his eyes as he started to get annoyed.
The look on Lucifer's face was hilarious. One would really like to see his reaction if he knew that Alastor wasn't interested in anything sexual, but just loved to anger people, especially those who didn't pay attention to him.
"Nobody wants to see that atrocity!"
"Well, she loves it!"
"She doesn't!"
And before things could get worse, Husk suddenly said, "Mimzy is here."
With that, your eyes widened as you looked towards the entrance while the men stopped pulling on your hands.
Oh and how you hated her.
"Surely you all missed me!" The voice of the beautiful little woman was heard, clearly directed at your husband.
Fuck no, you thought.
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Taglist
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@nightlydream
@itsmskeisha
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charliemwrites · 3 months
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Mister(s) Steal Your Girl — part 3
(I seriously need to come up with an actual name for this series before it sets in)
Introducing his grand horniness- John “Soap” MacTavish
No Content Warnings
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It’s been six, coming up on seven, dates with Kyle. A dwindling part of you feared that after the absolutely mind-blowing night you two shared, he’d ghost you or something.
But nope, the morning after was spent in one of his jumpers, receiving kisses and breakfast and tea. The two of you watched movies all day until he drove you home, kissing you at the door. He let you keep his jumper.
Not three days later, he invited you to a movie you’d both been excited to see, and giggled over the popcorn bowl like teenagers. He didn’t even mind that you leaned over to whisper during certain parts, or the ramble you went on afterwards. (When you apologized for overanalyzing and talking so much, he gave you a bizarre, almost offended look. “Don’t you dare stop,” he huffed, “you’re way better than radio. What did you think about that after credit scene?”)
A few days after that, he called with apologetic news.
“Being shipped out for a couple weeks. Shouldn’t be anything too dangerous, and I’ll call when I can,” he explained.
You told the nervous little twist in your gut that you knew this about him. That this is Kyle’s job, not a convenient excuse to ignore you.
“Stay safe regardless,” you murmured earnestly into the phone. “I‘ll… I’ll miss you, Kyle.”
“You’re getting the biggest hug when I get back, darlin’,” he promised.
He kept to it too. Called at odd hours sometimes - once during dinner with your fiance even. But Brandon is always taking random calls nowadays, so you figured, given the circumstances, it’s not such a big deal to excuse yourself either.
On the other end of the call, Kyle sounded a bit tired, but happy to talk to you. He couldn’t tell you anything about what he was doing, but shared some smaller, safer details. That the tea was shite because Soap kept over-steeping it. That his lieutenant was big enough to body slam him during sparring practice. That Captain Price wishes you well and promises to bring Kyle back in one piece.
You even heard one of his teammates in the background, asking Kyle if he was “chirping at his new bird.” Soap, as you found out. They sound like a good bunch.
When Kyle comes back, you offer to welcome him at his apartment. You bring a little plate of cookies and a pack of his favorite beer, hoping it’s not too much. But when he opens the door, his expression melts before he scoops you up in the big hug he promised.
“You’re a fuckin’ dream, ya know that?” he murmurs, tucking his face against your neck.
You spend the whole weekend with him, kissing at the stitched-up knife wound on his muscled arm. Otherwise, all in one piece.
“Would you… want to meet my mates sometime?” he asks as you’re getting dressed for work Monday morning.
“Of course,” you reply instantly. Realize that might be too eager. “If you want to introduce me, that is.”
“I want to show you off to the bloody Queen, babes.”
You giggle, crossing the room to drop a quick kiss on his lips. He tries to draw you in for something deeper, but you wiggle and swat at him, complaining that he’ll make you late.
It’s good, you think. Blissfully good. Honeymoon phase, maybe, but considering how far off your actual honeymoon is, you feel like you deserve this. Kyle is a wonderful partner - kind, attentive, respectful. He listens, he cares, he’s independent of you and respects your boundaries. Sometimes you can’t believe you were ever nervous about this open relationship thing in the first place.
On Wednesday of that same week, Kyle tells you that Soap is going to visit and is eager to meet you. He was thinking dinner and drinks, come back to Kyle’s apartment afterwards. You readily agree.
The next day, a bouquet comes in. It’s a beautiful, though not extravagant, arrangement. Calla lilies, roses, and hydrangeas. The note that comes with it says, “Wanted to make a good first impression in case Kyle told you lies.” It’s signed “Johnny.”
You send a picture to Kyle, amused and a bit endeared. It brightens the rest of your day so much that you barely notice Lucy’s usual snide comments.
On Friday night, Brandon is unexpectedly home. Usually he doesn’t even come home from work on Fridays anymore - or at least he didn’t before you met Kyle. Lately, you only pop in if you’ve forgotten something for your overnight bag. You had to stay late at the office today, though, and your apartment is closer than Kyle’s.
“Was thinking we could go out tonight,” he tells you.
“Oh,” you say, taken aback. Not just by the invitation, but by the mix of emotion in your gut. Some of it is excitement and relief, but not as much as you’d expect. It’s warring with unease and reluctance, a bit of frustration that now of all times he wants to reconnect.
“Um, raincheck?” you offer, smoothing down your dress. It’s a new one you picked out with Kyle; you’re hoping he (Kyle) will notice. “I have plans.”
Brandon’s brow furrows, smile going tight. “You can’t reschedule?”
God you hate confrontation and he knows that, doesn’t he? Why is he pushing?
“Well I don’t know when I’ll get to see them again,” you explain.
Suddenly the tension in his shoulders eases. “Oh, is it a few people then?”
“Just a couple. I’m meeting one of them for the first time.”
“Have fun then,” he says, fishing his phone from his pocket. Like you’re not even there anymore.
You blink, then your phone buzzes with a message from Kyle and you hurry out the door.
“I knew you’d look terrific in that dress,” he says as soon as he sees you.
Thoughts of Brandon, that strange interaction, and those churning feelings all disappear in an instant. Kyle just has a way of soothing you.
The restaurant is one that has quickly become one of your favorites with Kyle. Good food, good drinks, quiet and relaxed atmosphere. You like the funky artwork and squishy booths.
Soap (Johnny?) has already gotten your party a table, and stands as the two of you approach. You nearly stop right there, and then almost trip a bit as momentum urges you onwards. Manage not to make a fool of yourself, but you still boggle at him.
Because Kyle? You thought he was a fluke. Just too handsome to be real, never mind tall and fit and friendly and— well, anyway.
You thought he was a fluke.
But Soap/Johnny is goddamn handsome too! Trim stubble, pretty eyes behind thick lashes, a soft-looking Mohawk that gives him a boyish charm without seeming immature.
“There you two are, thought ye stood me up!” he greets, drawing Kyle into one of those friendly man-hugs with the shoulder pats that look like they hurt.
“Youre a cheap date anyway, MacTavish,” Kyle replies, gently easing you forward with a hand on the small of your back.
“Och, don’t bad mouth me in front of a lady,” Johnny/Soap complains, then turns his twinkling gaze to you and offers a hand. “John MacTavish, but this bampot calls me Soap.”
“Not Johnny?” you ask curiously.
You take his hand, find callouses similar to Kyle’s. But his palm is a bit broader, a scar along his thumb - from a burn it looks like. Just as warm, just as careful. A firm, but not tight shake.
“You can call me anything you like, lass,” he says. From the corner of your eye, you see Kyle choking back a laugh. Johnny it is, you figure.
“Wait ‘Soap’ is a callsign right?” you ask as Kyle herds you into the booth.
“Right-o,” Johnny replies, smiling.
“Does Kyle have one?”
The grin that he gives you would make the devil sweat. As it is, Kyle groans and shoots you a betrayed look.
“Oh does he, lass.”
You light up, grin right back. “Tell me?”
“As if I could say no to a pretty face like that!”
And so begins a long, warm, perfect night. Johnny is great company. Welcoming and friendly, quick to smile, sharp witted. You could sit all night listening to him and Kyle quip at each other, but they’re so careful to keep you included and engaged.
Johnny even offers you some of his chips when his order comes, and you’re too delighted to say no. Not that Kyle seems to mind, encouraging you to steal a couple for him since Johnny keeps whacking his hand away.
The night ends back at Kyle’s. You whip up another batch of cookies with some suspiciously new-looking baking ingredients. The boys keep you company while you work — Kyle mixes the batter when your arm gets tired and Johnny keeps your wine glass full. In the end, you let them each get a lick of the dough spoon.
Eventually, you move to the couch, climb on together. Kyle, for some reason, scooches you into the middle instead of one of the ends, but you don’t mind and neither does Johnny, it seems. They argue over a movie to put on, but it doesn’t matter because the three of you talk through most of it anyway.
The second movie is your pick, which is your downfall. You barely get halfway through before dozing off. End up stirring to muffled laughter and harsh whispering. You’ve slumped into Johnny, you realize, seeing Kyle’s broad smile.
“Oh,” you hum, trying to sit up. “‘M sorry…”
“You’re alright, lass,” Johnny murmurs, gently nudging you back down.
“Kyle?” you ask, yawning.
“Still watching the movie, sweetheart. You can go back to your nap. Soap’s nice and warm, yeah?”
You hum, snuggle in again. He is comfy. “So are you.”
Another quiet chuckle. “I know, love.”
He rouses you later — the movie must be over, you think blearily. Kyle scoops you up, plants a kiss on your cheek as you tuck in.
“Say good night to your teddy bear, baby.”
“‘Night, Johnny,” you mumble, nuzzling your face into Kyle’s neck.
“‘Night, bonnie.”
You wake first the next morning — rare and precious. Kyle is lying behind you snoring softly, arm around your waist. You wiggle around to watch his sleeping face for a minute, appreciating the peace in his features. Drop a whisper-soft kiss on his cheek and then slip out of bed.
He grumbles a bit, but you coo at him to go back to sleep and he subsides quickly. Once you’ve freshened up in the bathroom, you pad out to the living room. Johnny is up as well, watching tv on low volume with a coffee on his knee.
“Mornin’,” he says.
“Good morning,” you chirp back, continuing for the kitchen.
“You’re up early,” he observes, following.
“Slept well,” you reply, grinning. “Thanks in part to you. I hope that wasn’t uncomfortable.”
He ducks his head a bit, a light flush blooming across his ears and cheeks. “Nah, can’t complain about a pretty girl fallin’ asleep on me. Means I must have made a good impression, eh?”
“Oh! That reminds me - those flowers were gorgeous. Did you know calla lilies are my favorite?”
“Aye, Kyle’s been talkin’ about ya nonstop since ye met.”
It’s your turn to flush, and much brighter. You hurriedly turn to the cabinets.
“Well, thank you. I loved them.”
“Yeah? I’ll send you more then.”
Startled, you whip around on him, mouth stupidly open as you try to find a response. “You really don’t have to do that!”
“But what if I want to?”
And if you were struggling for words before, you’re hopeless now. So you just throw your hands up with a little “gah” sound and turn back to gathering ingredients.
“What are we making?” Johnny asks, taking mercy on you. Not that using that sly “we” isn’t devastating to your composure.
“My super special flapjack recipe,” you answer. “Could you get that big bowl down for me?”
He steps past you to do so while you dig out the measuring spoons from the dishwasher.
“If they’re as good as your cookies, then I’m gonna need extra PT after this weekend.”
“Good,” you reply, smug, “that’s my goal.”
“Dangerous woman.”
You snort, holding up a wooden spoon. “Oh yeah, I’m a real threat brandishing cooking utensils at a special ops guy.”
“Och, don’ sell yourself short - my nan used to be a menace with those things!”
Kyle exits the bedroom fifteen minutes later to the smell of cinnamon and his best friend with a face full of flour.
“…Do I even want to know?”
“Just be glad she’s on our side, Garrick.”
2K notes · View notes
mypoisonedvine · 7 months
Text
𝐝𝐞𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐥𝐲 𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫 | boyfriend's dad!cillian murphy x reader
𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 | for some reason, your first instinct after the breakup was to talk to his parents; maybe because you'd come sort of uniquely close to them, for a relatively short relationship. you might not have gone to their house if you'd known you'd find mr. murphy there alone...
𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 | 4k
𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 | SMUT (18+ ONLY!! unprotected sex, creampie, oral m and f receiving), age gap (reader's age unspecified, cillian is 45+), hurt/comfort (but, you know, sexual comfort), infidelity, slight manipulation/coercion since the reader is very vulnerable at the time, somewhat inexperienced reader, degradation and praise, a little bit of breathplay, hair pulling, slight dacryphilia?, reader is slightly implied to be an immigrant/foreigner
note: yes I use his real name but this is just fiction and not meant to have anything to do with the real cillian murphy or his life/family so please keep that in mind!
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He had a smile on his face as he opened the door and greeted you, but it fell instantly when he saw you biting down on your quivering lip, looking down to hide how red and watery your eyes were.
"What's wrong, sweetheart?" he asked, voice heavy with concern as he reached out and rubbed your shoulder. "Oh, god— come in, come in— what's going on?"
He ushered you into the house, shutting the door behind you and wrapping his arm around you as you sniffled. "I-I'm sorry—" you began instantly.  “I thought— I don’t know why I even came here…”
But, actually, you sort of did.  You’d been wanting to talk to Cillian’s wife, hoping for some motherly advice, until he answered the door and you abruptly remembered she was in England on business for a week or something.  And you couldn’t exactly show up on somebody’s doorstep crying and say ‘oh, sorry, I thought your wife would be home— I’ll come back in a few days’.
You weren’t disappointed by running into him instead, really, you just felt a little weirder about it.  The two of you had never actually been alone before.
"Don't apologise," he soothed, "it's okay, just tell me what's happened. Are you alright?"
"Yeah," you sighed, trying to compose yourself a bit as he guided you to sit on the couch with him. "Yeah, I'm okay, I just... um, well, it's sort of stupid—"
"I'm sure it's not," he offered with a small laugh, "if it's got you this worked up."
"We, um... I think we broke up?"
"What?" he breathed, knitting his eyebrows together— he cared more than you expected... but it sort of made sense, Mr. Murphy had always made you feel welcome here. Mrs. Murphy too, maybe ina different way. Yes, it's bizarre to respond to being dumped by going to visit the guy's parents, you needed a sort of... mature, familial presence right now while you were so far from your own.
You took him through the whole drama as efficiently as possible, trying to regulate your crying so he could actually attempt to make out what you were saying. He listened thoughtfully, perhaps with too much attention compared to what you expected— after all, this was stupid college drama and he was so much more mature than all that. Still, you appreciated a listening ear and a shoulder to cry on.
"And, uh, that's how he ended it," you finished with a sigh, sniffling as you recalled the heartbreaking conversation. "He basically told me that he's too young to be stuck with one person, and he needs to 'explore his options'..."
"Then he's an idiot," Cillian groaned, "and I hate to say that about my own son— but he's a fuckin' idiot."
"Well," you mumbled, "I don't know— I thought maybe he had a point. I mean, we're pretty young..."
"But look at you, honey," he offered pityingly, "you can't tell me this is what you wanted."
"No, but—"
"And yes, you're young," he added, "but not too young— not if it's real."
You bit your lip to stop it from shaking any more, and he cooed at you gently as he reached up to rub your shoulder.  
“Poor girl,” he breathed.  “Honestly, I always… well, maybe I shouldn’t say it now…”
You looked up at him expectantly, and he smiled nervously as he glanced away.
“Well… I guess I always thought that you could do better,” he admitted with a soft laugh, “but, you know, I didn’t want to say anything, of course.  He was lucky to have you, and I just hoped he would treat you right, but…”
“I thought I was the lucky one,” you replied with a thin smile and another little sniffle.  “He could be really sweet, you know— he used to be.  And I always thought he was, uh, sort of… you know, out of my league.”
“Oh, honey, no,” Cillian frowned, moving his hand up to your face and holding your cheek, wiping a small tear away with his thumb.  “You’re gorgeous.”
You laughed awkwardly, not sure what to think— or how to think— with him looking at you like that.  “I… I don’t know, you’re sweet, but—”
“No, really,” he assured, and only when you met his gaze did you realise how close he was.  You wouldn’t call it too close, only because it didn’t bother you like you knew it should.  “You’re so beautiful.”
You opened your mouth to say something, but nothing actually came out… there was nothing to say.  He was coming closer, you knew it, and you wanted to reach up to stop him just as much as you wanted to shut your eyes and give into it.  You ended up sort of splitting the difference: you rested your hands on his shoulders, but didn’t push him away, and gasped slightly just before he kissed you.  Even a second of resistance could’ve given you some plausible deniability, but no, you fluttered your eyes shut and kissed him back; it didn’t help that you could feel how warm and strong he was through the t-shirt, holding on tighter to his shoulders with a hum.
His hands wandered to your waist, pulling you into him— and you were like putty, embarrassingly enough. With him kissing you like that, you really couldn’t do anything but let him pull you around wherever he wanted.  His lips were soft and gentle, his tongue teased you so carefully, and he even sighed against your skin in the sweetest way… you were totally helpless already.  
Sure, some part of you knew how fucking bizarre this was— that you were kissing Mr. Murphy, your boyfriend’s dad— well… ex-boyfriend’s.  You weren’t blind, you noticed how attractive he was when you met him, but you’d managed to successfully ignore it since then.  It made sense, after all, since the first thing you’d noticed about your boyfriend was his good looks… but Mr. Murphy was handsome in a totally different way.  Strong and broad— not especially massive or anything, still a lean guy— with thin streaks of grey in his hair, a patient sort of smile, subtle wrinkles around his eyes that added a sense of wisdom to his expression… really, he was a bit more of your type.  But that was something you had forced yourself not to acknowledge— until now.
You sat up slightly, holding onto his neck, breathing in sharply through your nose as you kissed him back a little harder.  You could feel him smiling— god, even just that made you feel so desperate— and he even moaned ever-so-quietly when you ran your fingers through his hair.
“Oh, sweetheart,” he breathed against your lips, breaking away just enough to make you open your eyes— his lashes seemed especially long as he looked down at your legs curled up on the couch (and his hands petting them slowly.  “You haven’t been treated properly for a long time, have you?”
You whined in the back of your throat involuntarily as you nodded— how could he see right through you like that?  It wasn’t like it was bad with your ex, it was just… not good.  Not enough.  You wanted to feel wanted, not used— not a means to an end.
“Will you let me?” he asked softly, breathing beside your ear on his way in to kiss your neck.  You gasped, wrapping your arms around his shoulders to keep him close, head falling back to give him as much of you as he wanted.  His tongue was fucking fiendish, the way he used it to tickle along your pulse, the sharpness of his teeth making you jolt only for him to soothe you with his plush lips.
“Yes,” you panted, “fuck— I, god, I can’t believe we’re doing this…”
He laughed a little.  “I can,” he admitted.  “All I could fucking think about since I met you…”
That surprised you— you’d never noticed anything that would’ve made you think he thought of you that way… but knowing that he, apparently, had made a shiver run up your spine.
He certainly hid it well, playing the part of the slightly-embarrassing dad and polite husband so well that you never would’ve known… oh god, his wife.  You didn’t want to think of her now, yet the unavoidable memory stirred arousal alongside guilt in your gut.  You had no idea you were this sort of person— but you weren’t really operating logically right now, anyway.
He held your face again as he pulled back, petting your cheek— it made you feel especially juvenile when he did that, holding your chin to examine you.  This wasn’t really the ideal state for you to be looked at, in your opinion, with you having been crying all evening.  But he looked amazed by you, even if it was just for a moment before he looked down at your body and smirked.
“Take this off,” he instructed, tugging at your shirt slightly.  You thought it would’ve been a little more romantic if he helped you out of it, but it was alternatively a bit sexier that he was just going to sit back and watch you strip for him.  It must have been his way of demonstrating his power over you, that you were just going to take it off and toss it aside without question.  Which, of course, you did.
He smiled proudly at the sight, and before you could even get your bra off, he started to carefully tease you through it— fingers running around the edge, moving the straps off your shoulders, tickling up your sides as you shifted nervously on the couch.  
“Look’t that,” he whispered proudly, and you took a second to realise that he was referring to your nipples getting hard enough to poke visibly through the fabric; you felt self-conscious all of a sudden, even if he was clearly enjoying what he was seeing.  “So needy, huh?”
“Y-yeah,” you admitted, whining when he reached inside the cups and ran his fingers over your breasts— they usually weren’t so sensitive.  “Fuck,” you breathed, shutting your eyes as a way to try to escape his gaze.  “I… I need you.”
“Fuck, baby, don’t talk like that,” he groaned, “m’gonna try to take my time with you— how am I supposed to do that if you say such lovely things?”
His lips were on your neck again— and he was leaning you back, laying you down under him, tugging your shorts down with a bit more urgency than he’d had before.
When you were basically naked— or at least, your bra and panties pushed out of the way enough that he could see what he needed to— he purred at the sight, grinning as you hastily undressed yourself the rest of the way.  
"Of course he couldn't appreciate this," Cillian sighed, baring his teeth just a bit. "Of course he couldn't appreciate a perfect fucking body like this— a perfect little pussy like this..."
You were about to open your mouth to say something, though you hadn't even decided yet what it would be, but only a low moan came out when he held your legs open and dove between them, humming as he lapped at your clit. You couldn't imagine why you were so sensitive, but your whole body was shaking already just from the gentlest motions of his tongue...
"Fuck," he said, muffled against your skin, before he pulled back enough to bite playfully on your thigh. "Fuck, darling, you taste delicious. Christ. You're too perfect..."
He devoured you again, exploring all over you with his tongue as your thighs kept instinctively clamping down on his head. He kept looking up at you through it all, even when you couldn't stand to meet his gaze and had to arch your back from the pleasure. "Fuck!" you yelped, grabbing tightly onto his hair. "Fuck, Mr. Murphy, I— oh, god..."
"He never made you come like this, did he?" Cillian realised with a groan, nearly growling when you shook your head. "Has anyone?"
"N-no," you shakily admitted, and he moaned around you as he suckled harder on your clit for a moment until you whined loudly.
"Oh, poor thing," he cooed, "how could anyone taste this sweet cunt of yours, and not want to spend hours between your legs?"
He didn’t need to spend hours, though— the taboo nature of the situation seemed to turn your body into overdrive, making you so sensitive and desperate… or maybe that was just the effect he had on you, but it was hard to say.
The point is, all too soon, you were shivering under him, back arching up off the couch, holding on tightly to his hair.  He hummed approvingly, even moaning against you as he slid his tongue inside; he must have been able to feel you pulsing, moving closer and closer to the edge, because he shut his eyes tight and seemed to focus harder and pushing you further until you couldn’t take anymore.
“Fuck, fuck!” you sobbed, thighs shaking around his head; there really was no exploration to it, no teasing, he just went right in and expertly played you like he’d done this a thousand times.  Maybe he had… but, obviously, he’d never done it to you.  Were you that easy to solve?
Obviously, that question suddenly became the last thing on your mind as your orgasm wracked through you.  He growled encouragingly, still keeping his pace, but you could barely hear it past the ringing in your ears— and your own cries of his name, of course.
He only broke away when your squirms turned into real avoidance: you could only take so much, especially with him suckling on your clit like that.
You were almost nervous to open your eyes again— and you were right, he looked so gorgeous between your legs, obviously smug with having just made you come, it was nearly criminal.
“Is it really that easy to make you come, honey?” he laughed, petting your legs sweetly as he pulled back, looking up at you with a proud grin.  “That’s so fucking cute, baby…”
As he sat up again, wiping the slick off his mouth with the back of his hand, you got this weird, clingy feeling— wanting to chase him even just as he barely moved away.  
But he’d sat up for a reason, and you started to realise it when you sat up, too, and noticed the thick bulge in his jeans.
"Why don't you show me what you can do, sweetheart?" he encouraged with a smile, opening his belt for you. "I'm sure you've learned a thing or two..."
Though you still felt terribly nervous about it, you leaned forward towards his lap. Would it be awful to admit your mouth watered when he freed his cock from his jeans and boxers, holding it out for you as a little bead of precum formed at the tip?
"Show me, baby," he whispered again, "and look up at me."
You nervously blinked up at him, meeting his gaze from his lap, as you wrapped your lips around his swollen head. He bit his lip right away and reached up to hold onto your hair, groaning as you swirled your tongue.
"Fuck," he smirked, "you're sort of a tease, aren't you?"
You weren't trying to be, really, but it didn't sound like he minded too much...
"Oh, fuck," he moaned deeply, making you pulse inside as he tilted his head back. "Fuck, baby, that's good— your mouth is so fucking warm..."
He gasped and panted as he held your head, guiding it to bob just a little faster than you had been moving. "Sweetheart," he choked, "you're so fucking good... fuck!"
The praise made your chest fill with warmth, even if there was still some part of your brain that was recovered enough from the orgasm to remember how horrible this all was.  It was horrible, but perfect— and feeling his cock throb against your tongue was perfect, too.
You’d never been told you were so good at this before, but he kept moaning and petting your head encouragingly, whispering the most wonderful and filthy things.  “Just like that, honey,” he cooed, “mm— pretty thing… knew that mouth of yours would feel so fuckin’ good… just keep sucking my cock, sweetheart.”
That you did— harder and faster, stroking what your mouth couldn’t fit, moaning softly around him.  As you tried to take it deeper, desperate to please him, you gagged on his thick head.
“God, it’s so cute when you choke on it, baby,” he chuckled.  “Do it again.”
This time it was almost too much, but he held your head down and groaned deeply.  It would’ve bothered you more— not being able to breathe— if he didn’t sound so sexy right then…
Thankfully, he pulled you off just in time, making you yelp as he held you by your hair— only to kiss you hard, letting you taste yourself on his tongue.  Moaning, you melted into his arms, and let him guide you to straddle his lap.  Feeling his jeans against your thighs and his shirt against your chest made your heart skip.
He took another long look at you when he broke away, a new darkness in his bright eyes.
“You’re so sexy,” he laughed softly, running his hands over your nude form and raising a brow as he watched goosebumps break out over your skin.  “God, I need to be inside you…”
You bit down on your lip but it didn’t do much to suppress your whimper; lifting yourself up a bit, you grasped his cock and slid it through your folds, guiding him to your entrance.  
You both gasped when he slipped inside, even when it was the slightest penetration— his whole head wasn’t in yet, and you just knew it would stretch you more than you were used to.
“Oh, fuck,” he moaned loudly, tilting his head back, “you’re so wet, sweetheart…”
Lowering yourself, you took in a shaky breath, whining slightly as he opened you up one inch at a time... and each one seemed somehow thicker than the last. His fingers seemed to dig deeper into the skin at your hips and ass the lower that you sank onto him.
You could barely believe that you took it all; that you relaxed into his lap fully even when you feared being split in half by how thick he was.  “Oh my god,” you blurted out, operating on instinct as you started to move— grinding back and forth, desperate for friction despite having been satisfied by his incredible mouth just a few minutes ago.
"Fuck, there you go," he encouraged with a growl, looking down at your hips rocking in his lap. "Ride me, just like that— fuck, ride my cock, little fuckin' whore..."
You whimpered at the insult, holding tighter onto his shoulders, but it only made you move faster. "S-so... so deep, Mr. Murphy," you whimpered.
"Yeah? You can take it," he promised darkly, holding tighter onto your waist as he dropped his head back with a low groan. "God, you're tight— fuck."
You gasped as he bucked his hips up, creating more pressure against your over-sensitive clit. "Oh, fuck," you breathed, struggling to cope with all the sensations he was giving you.
Both of you settled on the right pace, and he switched between resting his head back against the couch (giving you a nice view of his gorgeous neck, how could just a neck be so sexy?!) and looking down to watch you go.  “So fuckin’ cute,” he praised— though you were sort of surprised to hear him describe you that way at a time like this.  “So needy, honey… you want more, don’t you?  You wanna go even faster.”
Now that he said it: yeah, you did.  You bounced up and down, your moans coming out all shaky and uneven because of the movement, and he grinned proudly.
His hands wandered up from your waist to your chest, groping you eagerly as you gasped out his name in response.  “Love these tits of yours,” he informed you, sounding oddly sweet for how dirty of a compliment it was.  “Took everything in me not to stare at them when you’d come over for dinner… see what you do to me, sweetheart?  Haven’t felt this desperate since I was your age.”
Oh, he knew exactly what he was doing, reminding you of how much older he was at a time like this.  He purred when he felt you clench on him, obviously affected by the comment.
“Should’ve known you’d give in right away,” he went on, softening his voice to nearly a whisper as he watched you move with heavy eyes; you angled your hips back and moaned louder, his cock rubbing against just the right spot every time now.  “Hungry little thing like you— now I wish I hadn’t waited so long.  We could’ve been doing this the whole time… I could’ve shown you how much better it can be, when somebody really takes care of you.”
Whimpering, you felt another heady pang inside you— if he kept talking like that, you wouldn’t be able to keep your head on straight… then again, the fact that you were here proved that you were less stable than you thought.
“Faster, sweetheart,” he ordered again suddenly.  “I wanna see how desperate you can get.”
You furrowed your brows together, almost pouting, but did exactly what he wanted— you wondered if you looked as pathetic as you sounded, riding him recklessly, chasing another peak even when it took all of your strength in those shaking legs.
He grabbed you by the jaw and guided you into another desperate kiss— all teeth and tongue and low moans.  “Good fucking girl,” he snarled.  “Good little slut.”
“Fuck,” you panted, moving faster.  “Fuck, I’m close—”
“I know, honey,” he cooed, nodding as he moved his hand down to your neck.  “Show me how bad you need it, sweetheart.  Let me see it, I wanna see you come for me.”
Tossing your head back, you cried out his name again— why did you always do that when you came?— and felt it overtake you.  It was even heavier than the last one, even more numbing and draining, and you didn’t even notice how hard you were digging your nails into his shoulders.
When your body failed and you came to a shaky stop, he didn’t give you much time to catch your breath: he grabbed you tight, guiding your head to rest on his shoulder, and began to buck his hips up into you quickly.
“Oh my god, oh my god!” you whined, overwhelmed by the feeling, holding onto him tightly just to have something to keep you grounded.
“Fuck, m’gonna come inside you,” he warned with a growl.  “Gonna fill you, baby, you’ll be so fuckin’ full of my come—”
You sobbed and buried your face in his neck, starting to cry again for a completely different reason than before.
“Tell me you want it,” he ordered, speaking roughly right against your ear.
“F-fuck, I want it,” you gasped, “I want you to come— fuck— come inside me—”
He choked out a few more swears, he held you tight enough that you started to imagine what his bruises would look like on you tomorrow, and with a low groan of your name, it all suddenly slowed to a stop.  You moaned weakly when you felt his cock flexing against your walls, even more heat pooling inside you.  With what little energy you had left, you softly kissed his neck— until he seemed to come back to reality and pushed you back enough to be face-to-face with you again.  
You realised suddenly that you were still sort of crying from the intensity of it all, and got nervous with him staring at you like that.  “I’m sorry,” you sniffled as you wiped your face.
“Don’t apologise,” he told you again, moving your hands away so he could look at you himself.  “Besides, you look even cuter when you cry.”
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dcxdpdabbles · 2 months
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Heya! I love your works! You always manage to turn tropes on their heads and make them anew! I was wondering, are you going to continue The Audit? I loved the dynamics of the Bats interacting with Danny, and Damian and Danny's relationship was downright delightful!
Damian rarely got nervous because of the tension in the room. It wasn't in his nature, having been born with Father's ability to keep a cool head.
But watching the stare-down between his Father and Uncle Daniel was very nerve-wracking. He was still determining who was winning at this point. Father had retreated fully into Batman, locking away all and any emotions behind his persona, which was bizarre to see on his maskless face.
Meanwhile, Uncle Daniel's emotions are displayed for the world to see in the heavy set of his jaw, the down pull of his lips, and the ice in his gaze.
Between the two men sat a pile of paper with various red markings. Damian hadn't gotten the chance to review the documents, but he knew there was a lot, and most of it had not been good. He likely failed the audit.
His uncle had stayed at Wayne Manor for three days, despite the many attempts by the Bats besides Damian to get him out. He had been silently observing everything that happened within the manor's walls. Uncle Daniel took his position as an observer in the literal sense.
He did not speak or interact with anyone besides Damian and often ended up scaring his adoptive siblings since they didn't notice him in the room. Damian personally thinks it was their own fault for being frightened. Obviously, they needed more training if they were unable to detect his uncle.
It's not like the man was hiding; he is good at entering rooms as silent as a ghost. Damian knew all other league-raised children could sense when Uncle Daniel was about, so really, people trained by Batman should have caught him miles away.
Todd and Cain were an honest disgrace for failing to notice Uncle Daniel until his pen clicked to write down what he observed. Damian attempted to improve things by presenting the best of Wayne Manor, but he knew the more he tried, the more Uncle Daniel used the red pen.
He only thought he did well on the audit by showing off his various animal friends. Uncle Daniel seemed very taken with Batcow the most, and after helping Damian milk her, he had finally switched the color on his multi-pen to green.
"I will not repeat myself again, Mr. Wayne," Uncle Daniel hissed, snapping Damian from his thoughts. Father's eyes narrowed.
"You deemed me unfit for my son."
"I deem you unfit for all your children."
Father's face remained impassive, but Damian knew him well enough to see the displeasure rolling off his body in waves. "I try my best for my children."
"Not nearly enough." Uncle Daniel reached for the papers, flipping through the handwritten notes to a page, taking on three lines. When Damian leaned over to read, Uncle Daniel's hand shot out and he pushed his head away.
"No, Little One. These are your sibling's personal files. You can not read them." It's mostly because he respects his uncle greatly that he did not throw a fit for being excluded from the conversation. And the fact that his uncle switched over to their native tongue.
It had been startling to realize how much he missed hearing his language. And how warm it made him feel to use it here in Gotham.
Father pulled the paperwork to him. His blue eyes rapidly moved over the words before he flipped to the next page, the next, and the next. Each time, his actions became more frantic until he reached the end.
Then he just stared at the audit his uncle had written with a strange blank look in his eyes. Damian felt very unnerved.
"Damian, go wait in your room," Father said softly, gaze still not lifting from the report.
"What? Father-"
"Now, Damian."
The boy turned to his uncle for help, but the other man merely smiled. "It's alright, Little One. Your father and I will settle this."
It was ludicrous to remove him from the room to discuss his future. Still, Damian knew he would not be able to convince the two most important men in his life of this, and while Uncle Daniel was a pacifist, it didn't mean he was weak in any way.
He would have Damian removed, and walking out with dignity was better. The young ninja huffed, strutting out of the room, down the hall, and up the main stairway to his bedroom. He ignored the various Wayne-adopted dolts that were trying to eavesdrop on the conversation.
None of them had learned that if Uncle Daniel did not want anyone hearing his conversations, then no one would hear a thing. This was one of the many mysteries surrounding Uncle Daniel.
No one in the current League of Assiaians knew much about the First Son, mainly because no one had lived as long as he and Grandfather, but they all knew he had extraordinary powers.
Drake is a fool who thinks he can record all of Uncle's abilities when he hasn't even scraped the suffering of everything Uncle Daniel could do.
And he never will. A nasty voice whispers in his mind. Damian opens his bedroom door, taking one final look around, trying to fight off the wave of sadness. He can not say his stay here had been easy, but he had grown attached to his life at Wayne Manor.
It's a foolish attachment. It didn't matter.
He had failed the audit, and Uncle Daniel would have him moved. Damian's eyes burned slightly, making him blink rapidly as he began packing his room.
He had been able to adjust to the sudden move from the league to Gotham; Damian could do it again. He was halfway done getting everything of value stored in his suitcases when his Father appeared at his door.
"Damian? What are you doing?" The man's voice sounds crushed, and Damian refuses to meet his gaze. He needs to leave through the Wayne Manor doors with his dignity.
"I am sure it's quite clear what I am doing, Father." He says, folding his shirts in the military style Pennyworth had shown him. It saved the most space, and the idea that he will never learn more little tricks from the age bullet makes the burn in his eyes stronger.
A few traitorous tears fall, landing on his blue-gry shirt and turning a few spots into a dark blue.
"I won't let him take you," Father promises, strutting towards Damian and hugging him. The child stiffens at once before more tears silently fall down his face.
"You can not stop Uncle. He can take all of us away."
"I know," Father admits. "That's why I have agreed to his terms."
"Terms?"
"Mr. Wayne and I have agreed on a trial period. He will go to therapy to improve his behavior and communication skills with his children. I will be living here and monitoring the progress. It will be one year." Uncle Daniel says suddenly, right next to their hug, his cold arms warping around Damian and overlapping Father's.
Father's face was spammed at the contact, but Damian had never felt so warm or protected.
He sinks into the hug, watching Uncle Daniel's warm, soft gaze stare down at him. Then, his gaze hardens into disgust as Father leans on Damian's hair. Uncle Daniel quickly leans onto the other side of Damian's skull, trying to comfort him.
Relief crashes into Damian. The audit was not over; he still had a year to prove to Uncle that he should live here with Father. He will not be moved.
But it will take a miracle for his father to change that drastically. His uncle would remove him unless Damian could show him that there was something here worth staying for.
He needed a plan, a goal, an appeal to Uncle Daniel's more gentle, idealistic views. But what? He could try to become more brotherly with his adoptive siblings. That could buy him a few more months.
I need something more. Something more binding. Damian thinks, pressing his face into the two men's arms. He does not need comfort like a child, but being held like this is.... pleasant.
"Oh! Family Group Hug!" Richard screams from the hallway before the man is sprinting into the room. Father makes a face but Uncle Daniel opens the hug, leaving a gap for Richard.
The man barrels in with a shout of glee, squeezing the three almost desperately. Damian would make a face, but he understands just how great Uncle Daniel's hugs can be, and added to the fact Father is not one to show displays of affection, this is Richard's best chance to-.
Wait.
That's it! Uncle's one weakness is being there for children who need him. Damian realizes, a plan forming in his mind, as Brown, Drake, and Cain run into the room. They pause at the sight before all three are invited into Uncle's hug. Brown leaps in for her hug, and Cain hesitantly approaches while Drake stays safely away, eyeing the group with distaste.
Uncle Daniel locks eyes with the teenager by the door, offering a sad smile, and Damian can see that he genuinely wants Drake in this hug but will not force him.
He respects Drake's boundaries because, to Uncle Daniel, adoption means family. He considers Drake to be Damian's brother, so he would treat him with the same care and love as he does for Damian.
Usually, that would bother him greatly, but Damian is too proud of himself for thinking of such a great plan.
There was no way Father would change enough in one year to satisfy Uncle into thinking he was a good fit for raising children. That's fine.
All Damian had to do in that year was convince Uncle to stay at Wayne Manor to do the child-raising himself. This way Damian could remain in Gotham, no matter the audit's results.
How does one trap a man in child-raising when none of the children are his biological? Simple. They get them married to someone with children, and Father just so happens to be without a paramour.
Damian has to get two men to fall in love in one year. It should be simple. With Uncle Daniel's protective core and Father's determination to save Gotham, there may be enough common ground between them to spark romance!
"I love you guys!" Richard crows, squeezing everyone he can reach.
"Hn," Father grunts, while Brown and Cain both inform Richard they care for him as well. Damian softly mutters, "I care for you too," which is much better than Father's.
Uncle's snaps.
"Your son said he loves you, but you don't even respond? You are a brute, Mr. Wayne."
"And you are a leech." Father hisses.
Damian winces. This will take a lot of work. Good thing he's never cowered from a challenge.
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twizzie-lairs · 3 months
Text
My Darling, My Honey
Alastor X Fem!Reader (Part 5)
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Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5
Quick Notes:
This is when both reader/you and Alastor are both alive. (... we'll probably end up in hell later on btw so stay tuned...)
Reader is an artist/painter.
Part 5:
It was almost pure bliss.
Except many months later, you found out a secret of his one day.
He was an exceptional chef, you were always in awe of how he cooked such magnificent dishes every day.
But one day, you peeked out into the forest through the window in the living room and saw Alastor standing alone, covered in blood. Your first instinct was to run outside, so you did just that.
You rush to his side and ask if he's okay, and what had happened to make him covered in such copious amounts of blood.
He blinks a few times before oddly turning his head to you, breaking out of his stupor, "Oh my dearest (y/n), do not fret so. For I am only acquiring our dinner for tonight!"
You look down at what he is holding in his hands. Your hand shot up to cover your mouth. A leg. A human leg. Your eyes then trail to the ground where you see a bloody human body, mangled beyond recognition. "This is.. dinner?"
A large grin appears on Alastor's face, "Quite right! This one should be enough to last us through the week!"
He looks at your face with an almost vicious look to his eyes, awaiting your response anxiously, not that he would let that show, anyways.
All you can manage is "Oh. Okay." Before you walk back inside the house without another word.
It's no exaggeration to say that your brain chemistry was permanently altered from that moment onward.
The situation felt so strange and bizarre, you didn't know what to think. Part of you knew that was he's been doing is extremely horrible and corrupt. It almost made you empty the contents of your stomach, it didn't feel real.
It didn't feel real, but suddenly some of Alastor's behaviors started to make sense. His picky taste for food...He never let you help with cooking, you had chalked it up to him being more of a perfectionist, but now... you know its more than that. He was hiding the fact that he was butchering and preparing human flesh, right in your very home, all this time.
But.. for some reason... all you could think about was how dedicated he was to providing a comfortable life for you, because he truly loved you. Everything he did every day showed you that you mattered and that you deserved only the best.
"But I still love him with all my heart... maybe I'm just as messed up..." Was a sentence your mind kept repeating to itself for quite some time.
Your appetite shrinks after the initial shock for a few days, but you were never one to skip meals or have your appetite be gone completely, even if you were sick. In this instance, you weren't sure if it was a blessing or a curse in this case.
The meals he made for you had never made you sick in the past, so your body was already used to eating his cooking, and he made such amazing food, carefully crafted with such love and attention to detail, you couldn't help but keep eating his delicious cooking, no matter how bizarre and immoral it was.
"I think I really am just as messed up..." The thought crossed your mind again, but thoughts were interrupted by a rare occurrence, a kiss on the cheek from Alastor as he set your plate down in front of you.
The fact that you never stopped eating his cooking and always thanked him for his food and hard work, even after knowing where the main ingredient comes from, solidified the fact that you were the one. You loved him even after seeing him all bloody, holding a dismembered corpse, and telling you it was dinner. It was this pivotal moment that he knew, that you were the one to be his beloved forever.
In the coming weeks, things went back to "normal". You were settling into the new normal, as Alastor didn't hide the meal prep like he used to, and seeing him bloody and bringing in mysterious cuts of meat into the house became a normal sight to you.
One night when you were going to see Mimzy, Alastor informed you that he was unable to escort you that night. You were a little disappointed, but he assured you it was okay for you to go, it was just that he had plans that he wouldn't divulge any information on, no matter how much you pressed him.
Little did you know, but that night, Alastor was out on the town shopping for the perfect ring to propose to you with.
-> Part 6
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anantaru · 1 year
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MY NERVES, MY TENSIONS, MY HEART BEATS ୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅♡ !
⋆⑅˚₊ how they‘re pleasing you on valentines day ♡ ‧₊˚✧ —including diluc, cyno, kaveh, itto x fem! reader !! warnings ‧₊˚✧ — [ex]plicit, very passionate, a little rough, worshipping you ♡ ˚ ⋅ event mlist.
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⋆⑅˚₊ — DILUC
diluc doesn't fuck, no, he vastly detests that explicit phraseology, because in reality he favored the wordage 'making love to you' instead— and the way he did it would always leave you at loss of words, unquestionably thunderstruck as a side effect on how he would pursue to handle your sweet frame.
valentines day for diluc, such celebration should be held each and every day for the rest of his life, no matter the circumstances, his priceless darling should be worshipped endlessly.
the candescent hearts in his flickering eyes— they shine vividly as he intently hurried his way into you, your soppy cunt open and exposed for him, taking him so marvelously good diluc was confident he wouldn't be able to deny his own release any longer if you kept coursing over his girth in that precise manner.
"d- diluc." you're slurring your words now, profoundly pressing your face into his shoulder to hide your mousy, stimulated whines.
"yes, my love?" on your dampened neck, you sensed a shy, soft faced smile stretched against the skin as you anticipatively wrapped your arms around his body, "i love you— love you so much."
with the way diluc had his entire energies under control, not a single soul would be able to unriddle that he was excessively struggling right now— not only from how adorable you sounded just now but to keep on denying his own release so you would cum before him appeared to be much more difficult now, "i love you so much." he responds.
but he doesn't still his words, "i live for you." he groans within ragged breathing, gently kissing the tip of your nose when he fastened his hips on your core, shattering his stiffened cock so deeply into your poor pussy your back arched off the mattress and into him.
your legs were trembly and you held them apart so he could gracefully drag his cock through your raw walls, satiating every last inch of your body.
your diluc, so well beloved and esteemed— yet he was too, so outlandishly good in liquefying your figure into a quivering, watering mess with only a subtle trace of his cock.
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⋆⑅˚₊ — CYNO
"i wanna be on top today." you swallow down the huddled saliva in your mouth while crawling on top of your boyfriend, "because this day is about you too."
concealed by the contours of your body straddling his hips, cyno easefully stowed onto the velvety bedsheets while he finely aided you in lifting your hips up and down his shaft— he was unbroken with it and longed to see you splinter into minuscule fragments in results of the stimulation he inflicted on you.
meanwhile, another brilliant dream of his, to have your plush thighs at last, give up on you so he can then swiftly cast you onto your back and fuck you silly into the confines of your shared bed, because you deserved it more than he does, at least that‘s what he had stated plenteous times.
contrarily, you achingly staunched to formulate any words fronting your boyfriend, but your stuffed pussy was turning it far more difficult— your warm walls felt irritated and twinged at the raw drag of his heaviness in you, and when his cock pushes past that particular angle of yours, it had your toes curl and whine cyno‘s name, over and over, with that teeny tiny broken chime to your voice he intimately couldn‘t hear enough.
a honed hiss forms in his throat with how devilishly fine your dripping pussy sealed on his girth and cyno couldn‘t quite fathom how impossibly well he fit in you, that‘s when he desperately fucks you harder— controlled thrusts that bumped into every last fragile patch inside of your tightness.
his flushed tip was pushing back and forth now, but also leaving it to you to grind onto him through burning thighs, though for some unknown, bizarre reason, it appeared that it was non other than cyno himself who had harbored the control in the bedroom now, dwindling it off your fervent grasp.
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⋆⑅˚₊ — KAVEH
"you deserve it all …" kaveh ponders and you aren‘t used to see him being so serious tonight, granted, he was also awfully focused on your glistering pussy, nigh on driveling at first sight, "and so so much more."
your stomach frenziedly flipped when he pushed your folds apart with his finger pads, returning his head to your exposed body to precisely dig the tip of his tongue over the outlines over your pussy before drawing himself into you deeper.
"kaveh." you mewl softly, "i wanna— wanna make you feel good too."
the bitter sweetly recognized persistence in your comforting voice had his senses numbing, as well as made his cock twitch overwhelmingly in his tight boxers. You couldn‘t have possibly stated something that would turn him into a puddle of his own drool as fast as those honeyed words did.
"don‘t overdo it baby." he sighs with a fiendish sneer settling just under his dimples, "you‘re sensitive here." his warm mouth attached itself back on your tickling clit and you moaned, it had become utterly aggravating, his tongue just wouldn‘t satiate you any longer if he kept torturing you like that— endless but also impossibly intimate that it had your stomach drop.
the charging enjoyment kaveh sensed inside of his stomach, you had to understand him, he thinks, you‘re his sweet darling and today, of all days, was your special celebration.
kaveh playfully squeezed your thighs apart and fit his head in between your legs better— eyes not parting because he wanted to see your face when he made you feel good. Kaveh places a small kiss on your clit, mouthing over the silhouette of your soiled folds before another thought crossed his resting mind, it being that he wanted you forever, for himself.
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⋆⑅˚₊ — ITTO
"how did you like your day— oh fuck." itto’s eyes shimmer low on where your searing body was freely resting, "please baby please please tell me."
your arms nimbly wrap around his neck when your shattered huffs filled the room, "ah— i loved it." you sob lowly when he tightly presses your legs into your chest, "really?" his tantalizing, dilated eyes were lustrously dazzling down on you, it‘s as if itto was standing in need of a constant repeat of your words, over and over.
it was perceptively apparent that itto had gotten you extra prepared and wet for this— he hungrily ate your soiled cunt out for hours on end and while doing that, he begged for his pretty darling to stroke the outlines of his horns because he was so so sensitive there and your touch? soft and familiar, it entirely stiffened his cock within seconds.
his, quote on quote, selfish side fiercely called and hollered for you to fully satiate it and, without a doubt, how could you deny that? not when he was blissfully filling your drenched hole with his bulky cock— which he wasn‘t even aware of has been well above average.
"i want you to cum on me." itto had no reason to keep his desires from you, after all, it was nothing more than natural for him to be exorbitantly sincere and wholehearted with you, "and again and again and again..."
you quickly stumped into his words with your longing lips, skillfully shushing his clingy mouth with a tumbled lap of your tongue as itto began to move his hips, swiftly slobbering his hardened girth in and out of your slicked up walls— and archons, you sensed him wholly, those notions were one of a kind, so gnawingly weighty, you were doubtful you wouldn't end up sore by the end of this.
the constant repeating pressure of his skilled thrusts and your walls drinking onto him, stimulating all the right parts and there it was, within no time, you managed to approach yet another of the countless orgasms your boyfriend was going to cast upon you.
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©2023 anantaru do not share, copy, translate
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fatuismooches · 1 year
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OH NY GOD THE CHILDHOOD CRUSH CONCEPT BUT WITH DOTTORE 😭😭IF THAT'S OKAY?? reader is the only one who was interested in his endeavors and helped, so probably they're just as bad as him so they're partners in crime 👉👈 he's gotta have done experiments on then but they were never painful, only for them fr
♡ 𝐃𝐨𝐭𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐞’𝐬 𝐂𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐝𝐡𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐂𝐫𝐮𝐬𝐡 ♡
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synopsis: When you were a child, there was a peculiar boy who seemed to never have any friends, alienated away from the others. Perhaps you could be his first one.
includes: dottore w/ gn! reader
notes: Yes yes yes, I love this! This is so very cute, thank you and I hope you enjoy this! The use of Dottore's real name, Zandik, is used mostly in this because, well... that's what he was called as a child. (And to be honest, if you're dating any of the Harbingers you have to be somewhat... you know. And I think pre-Fatui Dottore would be different when it comes to affection and such... so yea. Subby Dottore I guess?)
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Childhood was something you cherished growing up in Sumeru. The pursuit of knowledge, the Akademiya, being a scholar, was something that was drilled into the heads of the young ones even from an early age. But when you were a child, you had the freedom to actually live, the ability to dream, to have fun, to run around and play freely without having to worry about all that boring stuff. So needless to say, you made sure to spend every second of your childhood the way you wanted as much as you could. You were going to have as much fun as possible! Perhaps that was why the rumors about the teal-haired boy did not make you waver in your pursuit to befriend him too much.
Despite the child being your neighbor, you didn’t really know much about Zandik, but what you did know was that Zandik’s mother was a kind woman. She always waved hi to you when you saw her and made small talk with you. Besides that, you never really thought about it further until your friends brought it up one day.
“That lady really seems to really like you, [Name].”
“Hmm? Oh yeah, she’s always nice to me. She even makes me Pita Pockets sometimes!”
“Her child is too creepy though,” your friend complained. You were taken aback by their statement.
“What do you mean?” you questioned.
“Zandik’s always just been weird. That’s why no one ever plays with him. I heard that he always wants to do these weird… um, experiments I think. There are other rumors too, but I just know the way he acts is just bizarre.”
“I feel bad for her,” another one of your friends chipped in. “It must be hard to deal with such a freak. Aren’t you his neighbor, anyway? Don’t you know this?”
You just frowned and shrugged your shoulders. You didn’t really like the way they spoke about Zandik. Surely he couldn’t be as bad as they made him out to be. Maybe he was just an introvert?
Then again, you barely ever saw Zandik before. He never played with anyone, never spoke to anyone, hell, you didn’t even know if he left his house. The most often you saw him was when you happened to be walking by and caught a glimpse of him through the windows. He always quickly moved away when he was spotted though.
“Well, it doesn’t matter. Just try to stay away from him, [Name].” You nodded your head, but your mind was already made up. You were determined to find out how bad Zandik actually was.
You did say you were going to befriend him, but you soon realized you were not sure how to go about it. You had never met someone like him before, so your choices were limited. The easiest thing you could think of was waiting near his room’s window. It was a bit embarrassing hiding behind a tree, seemingly waiting for nothing, but soon enough you saw him take a seat near the glass. You weren’t sure what he was doing, but he looked very focused on it, and you were a bit mesmerized for a second, as this was your first real look at him. But you soon snapped out of your daze and came out from behind the tree.
“Heyyyy!” You yelled, jumping up and down, attracting his attention. Zandik’s shoulders jumped for a second at the noise, and when he looked up, he was greeted by your figure on the ground. Your expression brightened when you noticed he saw you and began to wave your hands, mouthing something he couldn’t hear clearly.
Zandik was stunned. If he recalled correctly, you were the person who lived next door. He saw you occasionally but of course, did not care much about you. So why were you here? Were you standing there the whole time? What did you want? His active mind produced many questions, but in the end, he knew what you were. Your intentions could not be different from the other children.
The boy looked at you incredulously for a moment before getting up. Your smile grew wider, oh, was he going to open the window and say something? But then he pulled his curtains shut on you, blocking your sight into his room completely. Damn it. 
Well, that failed terrifically, but it was a bit stupid now that you thought of it. You sat down against a tree and tried to think of your next plan, unaware of the now slightly drawn curtain and curious red eyes peeking out of it.
Any other ideas you tried had failed, and you were not sure what to do. You had become aware that he was closed off, unwilling to interact with you or any others. But this had only made you far more interested in him. So, you had only one plan left - to go directly to the person who could tell you all. And so you knocked on the front door of his house, revealing a familiar face.
“Oh? Hello, my dear! What a pleasant surprise to see you, [Name]. Is there anything I can do for you?”
“Hi, ma’am. You see, I, um, have a request. I need help with something.”
“Well, I’ll certainly do my best to help you then,” Zandik’s mom affirmed.
“I want to see Zandik,” you said bluntly, shocking the woman for a second. “I want to befriend him and talk to him.”
“I-I see. It’s not every day another child comes and asks for my son. He is a… peculiar case, after all, and he doesn’t like speaking to other people. Are you sure about this?”
“Please, I really do want to be his friend,” you said resolutely. Her face softened and she relented.
“Alright, my dear. I know he usually frequents this spot…” the woman gave in and gave you directions to where Zandik apparently spent much of his time. 
As you made your way there, you were a bit in awe of how he managed to find such a place. You never knew this route existed until now. Soon, after a bit of trekking, you found an opening that boasted lush grass and smooth stones, with trees surrounding it in a circle. It was quite pretty. And then that was when you saw Zandik in the middle, his teal hair matching the greenery. For a moment, you pondered over how to approach him, but you did not need to think long since he spoke first.
“How did you manage to find this place?” His voice echoed throughout the clearing, letting you know that you were spotted. You tentatively took a few more steps closer, his small body getting bigger.
“I asked your mom,” you began, “and she told me I could find you over here.” He let out a sigh.
“Admittedly, I did not expect you to go to such drastic lengths. You are more persistent than the lot of them,” Zandik acknowledged, though still not looking up from the rather complicated and thick book he was reading. Then, he snapped it shut and stood up. 
“So, what is the reason for your tireless pursuit? Perhaps you’ve come to ridicule me? Or are you here to see whether the rumors are genuine? Do tell, I am truly curious as to what would warrant such an extended hunt.”
You were a bit stunned at that whole statement, but you only had one thing to reply with. “I mean… it’s none of those. I just want to become your friend.”
A moment of silence passed before a chuckle broke it. Then, full-out laughter rang out, echoing throughout the forest. It was almost maniacal, and you couldn’t lie that it kind of scared you a bit, but you bit your lip and remained calm.
“Aha, hehe, why, I have not heard that one yet. How creative. I must say, they are getting better at these.” After that little outburst, Zandik returned to his previous sitting position and became absorbed in his book again. You were honestly unsure of how to react to that. Did the other kids truly pick on him that much, for him to think another wanting to become his friend was a lie? You stood there unmoving until Zandik spoke again in a dismissive tone.
“You can go now. It was amusing while it lasted,” he said disinterestedly, waving his hand. You were dumbfounded but determined, so you answered back very simply.
“No. No, I won’t leave,” you declared so firmly that the boy stiffened.
“No?”
“Yes, in fact, I’m going to come over there right now. You know I wasn’t joking in the first place?” you said rather calmly, trying to seem as serious about this as possible, taking steps toward him. 
He scowled, his attention drawn from his book once again. “No, you won’t. You won’t dare to come near me,” he stated just as firmly, having recalled how the other children wouldn’t even look at him. You grinned and picked up your pace until you were only a couple of footsteps away from him, and that was when he truly realized you were not joking. Zandik hastily tried to get up to avoid you but you dashed towards him, nearly tripping as you lowered yourself to a squatting position, becoming face to face with him.
You leaned in close to Zandik’s face, your nose almost touching his. His unique, red eyes held annoyance and a variety of other negative emotions, but there was something foreign in there too, which was the reason he didn’t pull away - confusion and curiosity. You smiled.
“Well now, hopefully you finally get it into that head of yours that you are now my friend. So, why don’t you tell me about what you’re reading?”
At first, he vehemently denied your friendly advances. He’d mock you, roll his eyes at you and such, or flat-out ignore you which was what he usually did. Zandik was honestly not very welcoming, which you began to expect at a certain point. But you persisted nonetheless. You followed him around no matter where he tried to go. You’d sit close to him but not too close. You’d speak sometimes and would either be met with silence or a sarcastic remark but you began to somewhat enjoy it. You’d stretch your neck to try and read the books he always brought with him in an attempt to better understand him. Though, the day he put the book on the ground so it could be read by both of you was the day you knew you won.
Zandik would always tell you not to come back, but you always came back of course. He’d roll his eyes and scoff at your tenacity, but you came to realize that he liked it. After all, he could very well just go to another hiding place, or arrive at a completely different time if he truly didn’t want to see you. He’d never admit it, but he warmed up to you. You also learned that Zandik really liked to talk. At first, when you would ask him questions about science, he wouldn’t respond but you could see him biting the inside of his lip, restraining himself from going on a tangent. It was the first time anyone had shown any real interest in him. Zandik would ramble on about many, many things, often transferring to a new topic in the blink of an eye. Even when he spoke about less-than-pleasant things, he looked to you all excitedly to hear your thoughts. When it came to those kinds of topics you satiated him with a smile, but you always voiced your thoughts as much as possible which pleased him greatly.
Eventually, you started to invite Zandik over to your house. His mom was positively ecstatic and encouraged this behavior. And yet you didn’t do what typical children did. He wanted to do experiments. Which did not really surprise you after everything was done and said. Despite being your age, he always spoke in such an… advanced way. It was hard to describe, but he always employed these big terms and used such proper grammar and language, something that was very uncharacteristic for a child. And experimented he did. Zandik’s experiments were not limited to mixing and combining different elements but also extended to you, somehow. He wanted a strand of your hair, your eyelash, a paper with your fingerprints all over it. What he used these for, you didn’t know.
Your own parents were scholars, so even though you didn’t see them very much, they left a multitude of advanced books and texts in the house. While you had never cared for them much, Zandik devoured them with ease. Even though you invited him to your house to talk and play together, there were times he’d just take one of the books and read for the whole time, shushing you whenever you tried to speak. You had to settle for simply sitting next to him and trying to follow along, which he… surprisingly did not mind. Under his breath, he’d mutter phrases like “Khaenri’ah” and “Visions” and “ruin machines” which frankly did not make much sense to you, but you always happily entertained him.
One day, Zandik wanted to go somewhere deep in the forest. You had played around there a couple of times, but you had never entered into the depths of it, heeding the warnings of danger from the adults. Naturally, you were a bit worried and scared, but you knew that Zandik would enter with or without you, for there was no length he wasn’t willing to go to cure his curiosity. Though he would not tell you why you were making this journey, you followed him nonetheless, until you reached an area with many damaged stones and pillars. As to how he found this location, you didn’t question it.
“There it is,” Zandik said almost breathlessly. You were confused at first but then you followed his line of sight, and then you saw it. A Ruin Guard sat on the ground, unmoving. Your jaw dropped as you had never seen one of them before, only hearing about their destructiveness from others and in books.
“So you came here to look at that?”
“Indeed. But we are not merely going to look. I’m going to investigate it.”
“Huh?! But what if it awakens and attacks us?” Even though the two of you were a good distance away, you could easily tell the Ruin Guard dwarfed your tiny bodies by a great amount.
“From what I’ve read and heard, it should be deactivated. There is no need to worry,” Zandik affirmed. 
“What do you mean by ‘should be’- hey, wait up!” Before you could finish your sentence, your friend had already made his way toward the Ruin Guard. You scrambled to catch up with him and soon enough you two were close to the robot. Both of you stood there for a bit, just taking in the sight until Zandik couldn’t hold back and approached the Automaton, circling around it, clearly fascinated.
Clink.
The two of you stiffened at the sound.
“Zandik… did you hear that?” He did not respond, but soon enough your question was answered as the eye of the Ruin Guard beamed awake.
Zandik could only stare in amazement as the complex machine glowed and lit up back to life. You were momentarily shocked but you quickly regained your senses and grabbed his hand to get away from there, because you two would be dead in a couple of seconds if you didn’t move. You had to literally drag him because the machine had him in an astonished stupor.
“I thought you said it was DEAD?!?!” you practically screamed at him as the Ruin Guard lowered itself to shoot missiles at you both. You managed to hide the two of you behind a small stone wall as the projectiles hit that instead. “And snap out of it!!”
“I suppose I have miscalculated.”
“You suppose?” Your voice had quieted down so as to not bring back the attention of the robot, which was now walking around the area since it had lost sight of you. “We need to leave before it spots us again.”
“No,” he disagreed. “We’ll incapacitate it ourselves.” It took you a few seconds to process what Zandik said to you.
“Are you crazy? Ah, never mind that. I already knew you were from a long time ago. But this is something far from our level!”
“I believe that we would be able to disable it.”
“Trained adventurers have died from that thing,” you insisted.
“We aren’t adventurers. We are better than them.”
“We’re children,” you deadpanned.
“Two intelligent children,” Zandik corrected you. For a second you were shocked that he called you smart, as you did not expect that sudden compliment. You always considered him the brains and you were… the supporter from the sidelines. “Furthermore, I have a plan.”
You sighed and rubbed your temples. “Fine… what is it?”
“It is quite simple. First, you will hit the eye of the Ruin Guard twice to stun it, and while it’s knocked out, I will remove the core to deactivate it.”
“...Yeah. So simple, Zandik,” you said sarcastically. “And how do you suppose I manage to hit its eye? It’s extremely tall and my aim is nowhere that good.”
“I would not have brought up this idea if I did not think you were that incapable. You are quite useful to me,” he said straightforwardly. Boy, did Zandik have a very odd way of cheering you up.
“I… well, okay then. And you know how to get the core out of it?”
“I’ve read multiple passages of these machines in textbooks. I assume I have enough knowledge to do so.”
“I’m not going to even say anything. You owe me a play date after all of this,” you pouted. Zandik rolled his eyes begrudgingly.
“I suppose I can engage in your nonsensical childish activities when all of this is over. But just for an hour,” he proclaimed. You gleefully smiled, pleased to have won him over.
You didn’t care much for the Archons or Gods but you suppose they must have been watching over you because you eventually managed to stun it. Keyword: eventually - after whole minutes of running around dodging missiles and picking up random stones along the way, while Zandik sat there waiting for the right moment. You swear he was laughing at you. And true to his word, the young boy dismantled the machine’s core, rendering it unable to operate.
“Wow… I can’t believe we actually did that,” you mentioned, still in awe of it all.
“Of course we did. I would expect or accept nothing less. Now, come here. We have work to do.”
Somehow he had brought along small tools to try and dissemble the Ruin Guard. The red-eyed boy’s intelligence had always amazed you. Although it may seem boring to others, watching him fiddle was quite interesting for you. Zandik had also apparently appointed you as his assistant without informing you until now, so you always sat next to him. You made sure to keep an eye on what he did, for sometimes he would put his hand out and expect you to pass him a tool or screw without saying anything. At the end of the day, at least you could say the two of you had feats that no other child could claim to have accomplished.
It had gotten to the point where Zandik constantly wanted your presence around him, claiming that it would do you well to join him since you had nothing better to do. (He just didn’t want to admit he craved your attention and company.) You had accepted this with no complaints, having enjoyed spending time with him far more than your other friends. But you couldn’t deny that your friends were somewhat right about their thoughts towards Zandik - he cared little for others’ lives or feelings, was interested in things others would find disturbing, and even as a child you could tell he was not too right in the head. And yet his morals being concerningly low despite still being a kid, you could not bring yourself to care much. Heh, perhaps he was starting to influence you too.
Many years had passed since the two of you were little kids. Zandik had grown into a handsome, young, man. His mother was no longer in the picture, but the two of you were still together despite it all. And as much as you wanted to end your story off with a cliche everything was well, nothing could be farther from the truth. The atmosphere of your hometown had begun to grow tense. Why, you ask? Because of Zandik. The villagers had always not been the kindest to him, never fond of his rather strange ideas, though Zandik usually brushed it off with disinterest. But as he grew older, it seemed that the town’s dislike for him grew as well. And while you were a bit worried for him, you weren’t too concerned. You were sure the two of you would leave the place one day anyway. No way in your wildest dreams did you think you’d look outside your window and see people waving around pitchforks and clubs. And if that wasn’t bewildering enough, they were pointed toward Zandik.
You never scrambled to your feet and out the door so fast in your life, rushing to your dear friend’s side. His expression was unreadable when he saw you.
“Hey. Hey! What is this all about, huh?” you demanded to the crowd.
“He has to go. He is no longer a child, and so we no longer have any reason to have to harbor him here. He is a threat to this town,” someone spat.
“He’s never even hurt you,” you argued. “He never laid a hand on any of you. It was rather you who did that!” You think you heard Zandik whisper your name quietly.
“He’s a heretic,” another voice hissed. “He and his ideas do not belong here.” The clattering of pitchforks pitched in to agree. Zandik remained silent.
You gritted your teeth. You could see there was no point in arguing anymore. “Fine. Fine then. We didn’t even like it here anyway,” you fumed. In your spur of anger, you clasped your friend’s hand and practically dragged him in the opposite direction, blocking out the boos and mockery from the rest of the town.
Surprisingly, Zandik did not say a word throughout your little journey to who knew where, until you had to take a break from the sheer exhaustion. Embarrassingly, you had to release his hand that you had kept hostage the whole time, but Zandik seemed far less perturbed than you. Perhaps he saw it coming, with how assured his next statement was. 
“We shall attend the Akademiya.” Out of all the possible things he could have said, you did not expect that one for some reason.
“The A-Akademiya?”
“Yes,” Zandik said quite simply.
 “I mean, it’s not a bad idea but… the people there might be…” You did not finish your sentence, but you were referring to how the place could have a good amount of judgmental “scholars.”
He laughed bitterly. “After this morning, I highly doubt anything they do shall ever bother me.” You did not know what words would console him, so the only thing you offered was an agreeing nod and your silent presence.
“They did not exile you, [Name],” he said all of a sudden.
“It doesn’t matter. Getting rid of you would be the same thing as getting rid of me. I wouldn’t stay in a place where you aren’t,” you shrugged simply, placing your pinky over his own.
Zandik did not respond, but he didn’t move away.
The Akademiya was… an experience, for sure. It was many things all at once, the different Darshans and the beautiful architecture, the great looming trees. And the dorms were far nicer than you expected. At least they were spending their funds decently enough. So, the two of you settled into the scholarly life relatively easily. Zandik easily climbed to the top of his classes in no time, quickly garnering the attention of others and then losing it equally as fast when they encountered his prickly personality. There were always gossip and rumors floating about, many of which proclaimed Zandik to be a madman and a monster. And while he rarely ever showed any expression to these words, besides perhaps a roll of the eyes and chuckle or a scoff, you wondered if it really did bother him. As such, everyday life for you was being known as the normal person who hung out with the weirdo.
But, the years spent in the institution were ones you cherished deeply. You were close with your friend for many years, but perhaps staying together in such close quarters deepened the relationship. The two of you would sneak out after hours to do whatever Zandik demanded to be done. You were a bit iffier about breaking rules, but Zandik was firm on not letting anyone hold him back in his pursuit, so you began to think less of it. Many nights would pass by with the two of you staying up until unreasonable hours, whether it was studying together (or more like Zandik helping you study), or listening to him ramble on about his latest ideas and inventions. The strangest times were when he made you stay up despite not speaking at all. You would blink through bleary eyes as he remained silent, the only noise the clinking of bolts and nuts. In your heart, you liked to think he just liked your presence.
But the day you found out Zandik was to be expelled from the Akademiya was one you’d never forget. You knew he had a tendency to act without permission, to turn off others with his radical ideas, so perhaps you shouldn’t have been surprised. You also had some knowledge of what happened in his expeditions with the team - almost everyone did, considering what happened with that girl - and you knew deep down what her true cause of death was. And Zandik knew that you knew too; you could feel it unspoken in his eyes when the subject matter was brought up briefly. You knew you were too far gone when you accepted it. But still, him being expelled was still a shocker. Yet the only thing he bemoaned was losing his space to work.
“It is quite literally your last night in this dorm and you’re sad about losing your progress on your experiments?” Actually, now that you thought about it, it was quite a Zandik thing to think.
“It was the only good thing about this place,” he shrugged. “It is too bad. I shall have to find somewhere else now.”
“They’re going to exile you to the desert, aren’t they?” you frowned. “That’s what they do with the expelled and mad scholars, no?” He nodded in agreement.
“You can’t go. You won’t be able to continue your kind of research there,” you argued.
“And what do you propose? That we fight them?”
“Yes! I’ll fight them! I’d ambush them or something!” you knew you sounded crazy by now but you couldn’t help it. The idea of no longer being with your childhood friend was tearing you in half. “You know, the matra stationed there keeps an eye on all of the scholars who were exiled there, in order to keep them in check. Even if you managed to escape, it won’t be easy to survive in such conditions and they could find you,” you insisted.
“Good thing you’re so eager to fight,” he chuckled. You knew what he was thinking when he laughed like that. “I have a plan.”
You raised your eyebrow. “Oh really?”
“Did you really think I’d go in there without preparation?” he scoffed. “In due time, I shall find a way to contact you.”
You sighed. “Alright, just… let me know who I have to fight later,” you responded. “And…” you trailed off, not knowing if you should verbalize your true worried feelings. He seemed to notice, and he contemplated, trying to figure out what to say.
“You need not worry about me, [Name]. We both shall be fine.” The words felt foreign on his tongue, as they were things he would never say. But he did anyway.
And that was the last you saw of Zandik. But unbeknownst to either of you, he would be visited by a special man - the first Harbinger. 
You stood outside on the small balcony, gazing down at Sumeru’s city. You had managed to nab one of the dorms with the platform, much to the dismay of the other scholars. The two of you always loved seeing them fume, as they had to take their star gazing elsewhere. Neither you nor Zandik had cared much for the stars, but admittedly it was just… nice to feel the wind blow. 
Sleep had escaped you ever since Zandik left. Not hearing the usual metal clink and unscrewing noises, soft grunts, and occasional chair shifting from Dottore had left you unsettled and bothered. You had begun to think about whether you should continue to stay in the Akademiya. Zandik was no longer here, and the place crawled with rumors and gossip regarding him. You weren’t so popular anymore either, as the whispers even extended to you, his roommate who people began to question if you were truly innocent.
You had been feeling a bit lost in general since Zandik had been expelled. You were fully aware of the heinous things he had committed. You had come to terms that he was a criminal, and you were accomplice of sorts as well. Actually, the moment you decided to associate yourself with him was the moment you became not so good of a person. But that wasn’t what bothered you. What bothered you was Zandik’s absence.
Any normal person would have called you absolutely crazy for desiring such a madman’s presence. And you couldn’t blame them. They were right. Yet your heart could not let go of the man who you stuck with since childhood. You could not let go of the boy who scowled and doubted your intentions at first, the boy who eventually warmed up to you, the boy who demanded you be his test subject and assistant at the same time, the man who tutored you in science and maths and everything else, the man who stayed up to ungodly hours to tinker.
The man who you fell in love with.
The revelation was enough to make your knees weak, and suddenly the cold air was too much for your warming body. Quickly, you locked the doors to the balcony and stumbled onto your bed, rubbing your temples at this acknowledgment. Archons, how stupid were you? You were in love with someone whose character was… words you could not describe. Though you knew it all along. You just were scared to admit it. You internally cursed Zandik for doing this to you, as you knew you were too late to say anything. Not that you’d have a chance though, considering his whole outlook. He’d think that love was for fools only, a waste of time when he could pursue more fruitful endeavors. So all of this only caused you to miss him so terribly much more.
You missed his eyes - such a unique red that could only be compared to the one that flowed through living beings. You missed his hair - the softness that you only felt once, when you gently caressed the locks when you thought he was sleeping, but he grabbed your wrist so quickly it nearly scared the living daylights out of you. You missed his sharp and smart tongue that could put someone into their place in a matter of seconds. You missed everything about him.
But you shouldn’t sulk. No - you would not brood. If he was here, he’d probably be reprimanding you for being distracted when there was so much left to do. Sooner or later, you knew in your heart you would see him again and-
Knock-knock.
You bolted up at the series of knocks. Were you hearing things? Surely no one would be at your door this hour of the night. Did Zandik make you delusional now?
Knock-knock-knock.
Nope, you still had some of your sanity left. You swung your feet off the bed, about to head towards the door when a rather strange shadow blurred across the floor. It looked oddly like… a figure… at your balcony… Your heart pounded as you convinced your head to look up.
Zandik was on your balcony. How he managed to get up so many stories of the building, you had no clue. No longer did he don the Akademiya’s uniform, but clothes that were rather nice and expensive looking. It seemed your stupor lasted longer than his liking as he tapped impatiently on the glass door and pointed towards the lock.
Well, it seemed your reunion with him was happening sooner rather than later, that’s for sure. Quickly you scrambled to open the door and pull your beloved inside.
“Z-Zandik,” you sputtered, not believing your eyes. “I- what- how are you here? Did anyone see you? You have to leave, they’re going to catch you!” You fumbled over your words, fighting with the happiness of seeing your friend again but also concerned about him being caught. “What happened with the plan? What happened in the desert? What are you wearing? How did you-?”
Zandik quickly shut you up by tapping his newly gloved finger on your lips. “You must not speak so loudly. But you are correct, we do not have much time.”
“You’re r-right,” you agreed, lowering your tone. “But I just need at least some kind of explanation. Why and how did you come back…?”
“The Fatui has recruited me.”
“The Fatui?” you echoed softly, trying to remember what that was. A few seconds of thinking and remembering the daunting masked men and women who carried around weapons caused you to snap back to life. “The Fatui?!” you whisper-yelled. “Those scary people who always eyed us up when went into the forest and stuff?! I- ah, I won’t even question it anymore. Just… go on.” Zandik smirked at your halting.
“They have provided me with sufficient equipment and a space to work. We no longer have any reason to stay at this ignorant institution,” he declared. “And, from now on, I am to be called Dottore, a new Harbinger.”
“Dottore?” you repeated. “How clever,” you snorted at the irony of the name. “And… what do you mean by ‘we’?” your voice got quieter towards the end.
“I mean what I said. You shan’t stay here any longer.”
You already knew you were following him, but your chest twinged due to your recently newfound feelings. What if you somehow turned out to be a nuisance for him? Eternally distracted by this foolish love? 
“Oh really? And what makes you think I’d follow you so easily?” You don’t think he was expecting you to say that. He cleared his throat.
“I’ve already made it clear to the Jester I shall not work without a competent assistant. There is only one person who has proven themselves to be capable. I will not settle for anyone else,” Zandik stated resolutely. “And,” he paused, uncharacteristically unsure of how to voice what he wanted to say next. He had always been a man who would proclaim the most damning ideas with no remorse. Yet he had trouble formulating his thoughts because of you.
“You are… infuriating,” he began, making you raise your eyebrow. How charming of him. “Since that day in the forest, I knew you were going to be vexing. You would not bend to anything I said, would not leave me alone no matter the methods I used. Infuriating,” he repeated.
“But,” he very cautiously raised his hand to hover near your cheek, just barely making contact, “I never thought I’d become so… accustomed to you. I remember your habits and likes just as much as I remember those formulas you hated so. It’s laughable to think that almost all of my memories have you there somehow.”
“You are irking, but without your presence, I am strangely irritated myself, which is far more of a hindrance than I would have ever anticipated. Without you, I find my mind wandering - it is like nothing I have experienced before,” he finally cupped your cheek with hesitance, as if he himself was in disbelief at his own actions.
“I have known you almost all my life, yet I seem to still need more time to truly figure you out. I am not merely speaking as a scholar, but as… me,” he finished. Now, that was the last thing you expected from a man such as him. But he quickly regained his composure as he asked you the final question.
“Now,” he concluded. “What say you?” For all his talk of bravado and confidence, his hesitant show of affection revealed all the vulnerability that you desired to see and gave you the answer you needed. You placed your own hand over his one on your cheek, maintaining eye contact with him as he stiffened at the feeling of your skin against his, even if it was clothed. You moved closer to Zandik, until your chests were nearly touching. 
Zandik knew what you were going to do. Although the thought of such affection usually made him… ill and annoyed, he could not help but think that the feeling would be different if you were the one initiating. How would his body react? Would he enjoy it? Would he want to do it again?
You moved closer to his face, and without hesitation, you kissed him. Zandik was rigid, the foreign sensation of another’s lips against him was completely unfamiliar to him. But it seemed that the answer to his questions was a resounding ‘yes.’ You pulled away from him, trying to gauge his expression. You did not know too much about kissing, but you knew your newly found lover understood even less, which spurred you to continue. 
Running your hands down his firm arms, you leaned in again to nip and suck at his neck, drawing out a shudder from Zandik. He felt intoxicated by you all at once. He would be sure to write some notes on this later… they would be needed for further… research and experimental trials. He nuzzled his face into your soft locks, silently encouraging you to continue your course of action, eager to indulge in it with as much excitement as he would indulge in forbidden knowledge.
But then you released him with a pop of your lips. “Well, let’s not get too carried away,” you teased. “Wouldn’t want your new subordinates seeing you like this, hmm?” you straightened his collar and smoothed out the wrinkles you created on his clothes. To say he felt bewildered and betrayed was an understatement.
“And if that wasn’t enough of an answer for you,” you changed your tone to a soft, honest one, “Wherever you go, I shall go too. I decided that a long time ago, Zandik.” There was no need for either of you to say the three words that many others longed for. You knew that the relationship you now had with him was far stronger than a few mere words could describe.
Zandik quickly regained his composure. He would be sure to pay you back for your little stunt later. “Well then, there is much to be done. We have not a moment to waste,” he grinned, halfway out onto the balcony. “Take my hand, and we will be off,” he extended his arm, his gloved hand awaiting your own.
Taking his hand meant abandoning this current life. It meant embracing a new life that was far from morally right, one that should surely lead you to be despised by many. It meant becoming a part of the Fatui for Archon’s sake, an organization that was far from reputable. Zandik and [Name] would become lost to the world, the names only being remembered by the two of you in loving, soft-spoken whispers. Others would only know Dottore and his loyal assistant. If you took his hand, there was no going back… 
And yet with no hesitation, you placed your hand in his. 
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screampied · 2 months
Note
I read that Hakari drabble and I was wondering if you could do one of him with full Nelson, please❤️
And you’re a lovely author.
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❤︎ ໋𓈒 trying full nelson with hakari
warnings. fem! reader, full nelson, size difference + size kink, praise, belly bulge, dirty talk, mdni.
an. thank you!! 🙆‍♀️
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“full nelson, eh?” hakari raises a brow, his tone was deep as he parted his legs. he sat manspread on the couch. you were barely over your last orgasm he’d just given you, and he smiles once you give him a needy head nod. “mhm. that position’s pretty eheh . . risqué, princess. you sure y’er up for it? don’t wanna break you.”
your lip forms into a pout as you made your way onto his lap. “hakari, please. i can take you, promise.”
“silly woman,” he teases, leaning in to give your forehead a kiss. “alright. i warned ya. now get up here.”
he did in fact warn you, because with this particular position—you’d be stretched out in the most bizarre ways imaginable. he’d be holding you up with strong bulky arms, squeezing your thighs with rough hands. “o-oh my goddd,” you’d squeak out, and as you were leaned back against his chest. he was pumping thick inches into you again and again. “hakari, don’t stop. f-fuckkk.”
“didn’t plan on it, princess,” he huffs out in short breaths. hakari wrapped his beefy arms around the top of your legs — nearly having you in a chokehold, a safe chokehold. “how we feelin’?”
“good, r-really good.” you whined, feeling your cunt spaz out loud squelches all from his hits.
“that’s what i like to hear.” he snickers in a raspy tone.
this position had your mind going crazy, your head was spinning.
your mouth remained open the entire time, tongue lolling out, you coat your chest with your own dripping saliva.
without a doubt, you were a messy girl. hakari’s low grunts were all up against your ear, making your pussy twitch. your legs made somewhat of a v-shape. you’re just dangling with his cock running in and out of you. basically, you were a fleshlight.
“s-so deep, ‘kari,” you moaned, his girth prodding and expanding all throughout your walls. he’s holding you back, elbows of his locking behind your neck. you’ve never felt this full before. you even started to feel him reach in the very depths of your tummy a few times. “right there, p-please.”
“so noisy,” he huffs out, pursing his slit eyebrows together. he had so much stamina—perfect for this specific position. you on the other hand, not so much. but you didn’t want him to stop, it felt too good and he had you throbbing for more of his thick inches. he was baring your weight, your weight that hovered over him and he chuckles, sneaking a kiss near the inner part of your neck. “tired yet? lemme know if it’s too much for you, baby. shit’s not for the weak, heh.”
you whined, feeling yourself clamp and clamp down on hakari’s cock.
without question, he was so big — filling you up with such lengthy inches. your tongue parted, salivating in your mouth before you shook your head. “i’m good, ‘m good. f-fuckkk.”
“you’re so cute,” he teases with a simple shrug. “mhm. but okay. just lean back against me, i won’t let ya fall.”
your cunt was so stretchy, he reached all the right spots with such success. the noises rang across the room quite loudly too.
hakari grows quiet a bit just to hear the sounds your pussy made back against him. he snickers, feeling your head just bobble back amongst him repeatedly.
“f-fuckkk, girl,” he starts to groan, feeling you squeeze tightly around him. hakari’s voice was so raspy, his thigh starts to bounce and bounce the more your walls wrap around him. like a vice, it had the biggest grip on him that felt way too good.
his body was so warm against you, you were almost warm with him inside you. hakari plants his heels so he could perfectly use his hips to thrust. in and out, he’s panting heavily and it’s so sexy.
the chokehold he has you in—quite literally, it’s hypnotic. “mhm. ‘kariiii,” you’d drag out in a cute whine. he always loved hearing your voice—you felt his tip kiss against your g-spot and that was enough to make you moan sweetly. “fuck. fuck.”
“such a potty mouth.” he murmurs, slowing his thrusts down for a brief moment so you could feel every rough inch of him.
it was entirely sloppy.
you barely had anything to hold onto, just dangling and dangling against him. it was only a matter of time before you felt a sudden coil within you snap. you were so sensitive, your thighs ached and it felt so good.
hakari’s just holding your legs up for you like a gentleman, giving you such mean thrusts. “baby,” he groans, feeling himself start to grow full too. “g-goddamn, y’er gonna milk me again.”
“c-cum in me, hakari. pleasepleaseplease,” you’d slur your words out, feeling warm. your slick entrance was just begging to be stuffed. he knew it and you knew it too. hakari grunts, softly running the tips of his fingers against your skin. “need it ‘s bad.”
“cum with me then, princess,” he pants, you’re bouncing up and down on him.
it’s so goofy, your eyes were nearly crisscrossed. he was stuffed so deep in you, you felt like you were floating. the moment hakari cums, it’s so much. a thick string of cum pours right into your pussy and you’re soaking it all up. you came at the same time, and your muscles involuntarily spasm within his hold. your orgasm hits you like a truck and your breath nearly gets stolen from you.
“would ya look at that,” he titters, gradually letting go of your legs. you sat up on his lap, his twitching dick still buried in you before you let off a sharp breath. “took me so well, y’er pretty flexible.”
“you helped me.” you say in a sweet out of breath murmur.
his stringy seed spills out of you once you make him pull out, staring down at the sticky mess between you before you moan—bending over to arch your back. hakari smiles, gently caressing your ass before muttering, “mhm. we can always do it again if ya want. new position though. i was thinkin’ fuckin’ you while ‘m standing up. how’s that sound?”
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