Tumgik
#some build false expectations
ratguy-nico · 5 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
So this is the comic, I wish to say is something original but this is exactly what happened in the "Bob Actually" san valentine episode, good episode, dont really like the Gene part, I know, a shocker, but all in all a great episode.
Also this whole dialog is taken out of another tv serie and I challengue you to know wich one, dont tag it until some one guess it.
Hope you like it like I dont.
Is in spanish too because some times me baja el amor por mi lengua materna, and this is one of this ocasions.
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
71 notes · View notes
ozzgin · 5 months
Text
Yandere! Yakuza x Reader
I've been plagued by this idea for a while, so let me know what you think! This is just the character introduction. Your new landlord is a Yakuza boss, and his scary looking underling has been tasked to deal with your tenant needs! Although he didn't expect you to be this cute. And you didn't expect him to be this unhinged.
[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3] [Part 4] [Part 5]
Content: Female reader, violence, mentions of stalking
Tumblr media
This was the last straw.
You're angrily stuffing your suitcase with necessities before the moving company arrives. Each glimpse around the cramped apartment fills you with outrage, as you're still heavily shaken from the events of last night. 
You first begun to suspect you might have a stalker when you found your outer lock with a fresh dent in it. You then picked a small scrap from the ground nearby and assumed it was leftover damage, but upon further inspection you discovered, disgusted, that it was part of your peephole. Someone must've fiddled with your door a fair amount. You tried to approach your immediate neighbors for help, but they either refused to answer your persistent knocks or downright scurried away when faced with your questions. They didn't want to deal with a foreigner. 
You tried to put it behind you. The police advised you to be cautions, as there was nothing else they could do without concrete evidence. And thankfully, you had several peaceful weeks following the incident. Last night you were suddenly awakened by faint scratches coming from your balcony. You groggily got up and wondered if your recently added bird feeder was attracting nocturnal visitors. You got up without turning on the light, hoping to catch a glimpse of the mysterious animal. As you pulled the drape, however, you were met with the large frame of a man plucking your laundry in a hurry. 
A panicked scream erupted from the depths of your chest and you slapped the light switch, erratically searching for your phone. By the time you dialed emergency, the intruder had vanished. You were sobbing against the wall under the fake reassurances of the operator, eyeing the sliding door that had no lock. Had he wished, the masked man could've easily invited himself in. You were at the mercy of a lunatic and no one seemed to be impressed by your situation. 
No more. Ideally you'd go back to your home country and forget about your plans to build yourself a life in Japan. What were you even thinking? A lonely girl, low on funds, signing a contract to be relocated across the ocean for work. You barely scraped the first months of a mandatory year. 
You close your suitcase with a satisfying click and on your way out you wipe the table of all the newspaper clippings. You've been scanning the potential offers on the market. The ones within your budget, of course, which means you don't have to worry about being picky. Until you find a new place, your belongings can wait in storage. Dusty furniture is a better prospect than waking up with a pervert looming over you. 
By the time the clock hits evening hours, you're sipping on your iced coffee with a defeated sigh. Most of the cheap apartments seem to be given to locals. Not outsiders like you. At least they spared you of the false hopes and curtly told you to not expect any call back, so you can swiftly move on to the next circled address. You pull out the crumbled sheet of paper from your pocket. Reading over your list of crossed out lines like this deflates you greatly. At the very bottom lies your final hope: the ad you'd stumbled upon this morning was too good to be true and the realtor was available for viewing at any time, so you're almost certain it's some sort of scam. Yet you can't afford to skip it, can you? You stand up, pat your jeans and take a deep breath in. 
As you check your phone to confirm the location, you begin to doubt your decision. It's hard to believe no other potential renters have showed up. The apartment is in a convenient area, very close to public transport, at a great price, on what looks like a busy street. Isn't it the dream? So why? You glance around, examining the surroundings. The shops are bustling with people. You try to come up with possible explanations, when a deep voice startles you.
"You must be (Y/N), right? You sure are easy to spot."
You turn around to greet the person. Although the second you spot him, you take an unconscious step back. You'd expected a middle aged man dressed in formal attire with a shy bow and clumsy movements. The one standing before you resembles none of that. He's imposingly tall, with a muscular built and slicked back hair. You can discern the tattoos peeking out from under the rolled up sleeves. His face has multiple deep scars and you can only assume that the pale, discolored eye that's transfixed in one direction is a fake made of glass. One might call him handsome, if you're into the kind of appearance you see in documentaries about the mafia. 
"Y-you're the landlord?" You stutter, immediately covering your mouth and regretting your lack of tact. 
"Nuh uh, Boss sent me to deal with it." He flashes you a genuine grin, completely unperturbed by your offhanded implication. "I'm Daitou."
He continues towards the entrance and you follow behind, too awkward to back down now. He describes the living quarters with surprising enthusiasm. If you were to close your eyes and disregard his heavy Kansai accent, you could very well be convinced it's a professional real estate agent hard at work. 
"Excuse me for asking, but..." Once he finishes his marketing presentation, you cannot help the increasing anxiety. "What's the catch?"
"Huh?"
"For something like this to be so cheap...and no one else being interested...may I be frank and ask what's wrong with it? Please understand, I just left my previous apartment because of a stalker. I don't want to be packing again anytime soon."
"Well, isn't it obvious?" He searches your gaze for a moment, before gasping as if remembering something. "Wait, you're a foreigner, so I guess you don't know. Ah, that explains it." 
He lets out a hearty laugh, satisfied with his conclusion. 
"You didn't notice anything strange outside?"
You ponder his question before slowly shaking your head in denial. 
"Really? A bunch of heavily tattooed guys with family pins on their suits...This is a yakuza quarter. Our Family owns most businesses here. But lately we've had a lot of police on our backs, ya know? Bound to happen when the street is swarming with us. So Boss had this great idea - he's smart like that, ya know, I've never been the bright one - anyways, he suggested we rent some of our housing to regular civilians. Less suspicious that way." 
He crosses his arms and nods to himself proudly. 
"I myself think it's a great deal. You won't find anything cheaper for the kind of stuff you're getting. All you have to do is, you know, mind your business. If some weasel questions you, no Sir, you haven't seen or heard anything suspicious. That's all."
You can only stare wide eyed, somewhat taken aback by his honesty.
"Uh...Are you sure you were supposed to tell me all of this? I feel we're skipping some steps before admitting to organized crime."
Now it's his turn to consider your inquiry. 
"Probably not, but I'm not good with words. You look like a smart girl, so I thought I won't sugarcoat it. I'm sure you already know that if you leave and rat us out I'll be throwing your chopped up remains in the nearby river. Or would you want to be shipped home instead? I'm a nice guy like that, hehe."
You return a crooked smile and purse your lips in the process. You'd rather not learn the percentage of truth in his humor anytime soon. 
"You mentioned a stalker? I can guarantee you he won't follow here, miss. And if he's that dumb to wander on our turf, well, me and my guys always hang around the block. Leave him to me and I'll bring you his teeth in a box." 
"I-...Why teeth of all the things?"
"Just easier to pull out, ya know." He winks and reaches for his back pocket, revealing an old pair of pliers with childish delight. "See, I'm a bit of a handyman, so I always have some tools on me."
Strangely enough, you're not as terrified as you would expect from someone in your shoes. Certainly your knees are weaker when compared to your pre-encounter state, but there's something about his demeanor that doesn't feel malicious or threatening. Like conversing with an old friend at a pub. 
"Will I truly not get in trouble? You guys do your thing and I'm 100% not involved?"
"You have my word." And with that, as if closing the sale of his lifetime, he confidently slaps a stack of papers on the nearby counter and hands you a pen. "You already have my number, if anyone pisses you off just hit me up and I'll be at your service. Boss left everything to me."
No perverts and less of your monthly allowance going towards rent. Maybe it's your despair talking, but you've been persuaded nonetheless. You scribble your name in the designated field and shove the documents towards your new acquaintance. 
"Pleasure doing business with you, miss (Y/N)." He cheerfully dangles the keys before dropping them in your hand and heads for the door.
"Oh, is shipping included in the rent?"
He stops and turns to you, mildly confused.
"You said if I mess up you'll ship my remains home. Do I pay for the postage myself, or is that part of the monthly tax?" You ask with a cheeky grin. 
His eyes narrow in delight and you can tell he's greatly amused by your words. 
"Nah, consider it a gift from me. Gotta treat a lady nice, 'specially if it's a pretty one like you."
And with that, you're alone again. You look around the room, trying to visualize your new home. It's already getting dark outside. Now that you've had the situation explained to you, you can definitely see what Daitou meant. There's the occasional police officer patrolling the street, and plenty of men dressed in similar fashion walking in small groups. 
"And?"
Outside the building, a young man is leaning against the wall with a cigarette in his mouth. He seems to have been waiting for Daitou. 
"It's done. Some cute foreigner is moving in." He lifts an arm in a flexing motion, patting his bicep in a congratulatory manner. "Boss will be surprised, eh?"
"You're fucking with me."
"What? You wanna go back upstairs and check?" He responds, appalled. "Might've taken longer than expected, but I told ya I can manage!"
"Are you sure you didn't threaten her or something? I still don't know what Boss was thinking when he asked a nutcase like you to deal with the civvies." 
"Hey hey hey, I may not be all fancy speaking like you or Kazuya, but I'm not dumb. Matter of fact, she already signed the papers."
"I never said you're dumb. Just batshit crazy." The young man sighs and flicks his cigarette butt away, stomping on it.
"Let's go and tell the others."
6K notes · View notes
daddyricsdoll · 3 months
Text
False God ✭ Max Verstappen
Tumblr media
Summary: Being lost spiritually isn't something you can brag about, but finding a new belief in someone is. From that alluring man in the F1 paddock to finding out he's the Max Verstappen didn't effect you as much as discovering his lips are your new religion even if it's a false god.
Warnings: The use of y/n!! (I used it 2-3 times), unprotected sex (what else could you expect from me?), teasing, reader is a virgin, mirror sex, oral sex (female receiving), fingering, creampie, praise, and use of names (good girl), also overstimulation and dacyphilia. I don't know if taking a photo of a naked person counts as a warning or spoiler, I guess it's both.
Word Count: 4.5k
A/N: Based off of this request. I would also like to thank @mrsevansxstanxobrien for saving me by giving me a perfect storyline for this. 🧡 And also all everyone who waited for this. I feel like adding more at the end, maybe a part two.
Tumblr media
Never would I have ever thought I’d wear this dress. But I’ve been lost, and these girls are helping me become found. I’m not used to the material leaving my shoulders exposed and ending before my knees. Some of my family wouldn’t approve, but I feel… pretty. I would’ve worried that my place in heaven might slowly crumble but now, I don’t know. 
I feel so happy and people are looking at me. In my little white dress, the one that hugs my torso and sways around my thighs, loose straps hung above my shoulders. 
This feels like heaven. Being in a place I’ve never heard of with my friends as they pull me to different small buildings. “Come on!! We have to find any driver we can. If you see one, tell me!” Lissie smiles, eyes shooting everywhere just like my other two friends.
“I don’t know what any of the drivers look like.” I say my words with worry but chuckles lacing them. 
“If you see a good looking guy with people around him, then tell me.” I laugh hearing others agree. 
“Oh specifically if they wear red or orange- Ferrari and McLaren drivers, oh even Mercedes which is black.”
“Ok… I’ll try.” Feeling uncertain about this whole thing but I nod. Walking through the paddock and turning my head at every man that would emit a good thought into my head. They looked at me too and I prayed to god hoping it weren't for the wrong reasons. 
My friends quickly spotted a driver and we all got photos and signatures, his name was Charles last I recall and now I understand one of the reasons he has so many fans. He signed my paddock pass in record time and then sent us a remarkable smile. 
We had to leave him and those dimples to jog the other way for drivers who had just finished FP2, meeting so many as my friends explained to me the whole purpose of this. 
Some drivers walked in pairs making it all the more easier for us to capture a second with them. 
I was getting one of my friends' hats signed by a driver called George when my eyes left his hand, looking into the crowd all around us. Somehow locking eyes with a stranger, he then looked me up and down a small smirk on his face.
And I could only do the same, my eyes travelled down his body, his jeans that hugged his thick thighs and red bull polo tight around his shoulders then hanging around the rest of his torso. I became flushed and looked away for a second to gain composure but when I looked back he wasn’t there. It was like he was a dream. 
“Y/n, you good?” Lissie asked, checking in on me as I hadn’t realised they started walking again. “Oh, um yeah I got distracted. So who else do we have to find?” 
“Great question, so I heard that Max is around here somewhere, he might be gone but still keep an eye out for him. And Alex, I love him with my whole heart but our telepathy isn’t telling me where he is.” We both laugh and it feels so good, the afternoon soon reaching the evening. She checks her watch and then looks back at me. “Oh, we have 3 hours until dinner so we can go back to the hotel, do things there, eat, party and then we’ll be back here tomorrow. Sounds good?” I couldn’t say no to that plan so we ended up going back to the hotel. 
20 minutes of swimming in the empty hotel pool turned into nearly 2 hours and now we were running a little behind schedule. We rushed to get ready, but oh didn’t we still look good. “We’re gonna meet the other girls there.” Lissie tells me as we get seated in the back of a taxi, adjusting her makeup. I nod, turning my head to look out of the window, I hold the cross around my neck fiddling with it whenever I get too deep into my thoughts. 
I cast eyes on many people today but that one guy, from the way he looked at me with a light smirk to the smallest tingling feeling he sent through my body. It was as if he tried to make out my whole personality in one glance, if only I could’ve done the same. 
The scenario plays in my head multiple times, each time I react in a different way– my default ways of a smile or being a whole different person by sending him a smirk, or calling him over. 
I know I shouldn’t worry about that, if worried is a word close to what I’m experiencing. But my thoughts make the ride shorter and we both hop out of the car, wearing outfits suitable for a restaurant and a dirty club right after. We stood just outside the restaurant waiting for Leah and Milan.
Taxi’s drove past and dropped people off, each one we looked into searching for those two girls. Then suddenly a car made an abrupt stop in front of us. The windows were tinted and it limited our vision inside of the car. Just until the door opened and a partially familiar figure started getting out of the car.
His face came into view and so many emotions ran through me in that second that Lissies scream was the only thing that brought me back. “It’s Max Verstappen! Oh my god! Can I get a photo or a signature or anything?!” She rushes toward him, searching her bag and finding a pen. I was still in shock, he is Max Verstappen? 
Next thing I know he’s standing in front of me. “Would you like a photo or signature?” He asks me so kindly, making me wonder if he was the guy whose eyes roamed my body then smirked at me like he knew exactly how I’d react. 
“I-um sure. Well I don’t really have anything to sign.” And then a piece of paper is passed to me from Lissie. “Oh, thanks.” I grab it and hold it out to Max, watching as he stares at my face long enough to memorise every inch. He looks away to sign my paper, taking longer than I would’ve thought, but when he gives me that smirk from earlier everything leaves my mind. He then starts walking away, getting interrupted by other fans.
Each step he took further away I wanted to say something even more, call him back, talk to him. But why and what for?
My eyes look down at the paper, his signature, but I see some of the pen ink on the other side, flipping the paper over my breath hitches at what’s written. “Be a good girl” I read, my eyes then following an arrow that points to his number. I lightly squeezed my legs together and tried to force the pink off my cheeks. I couldn’t help but stare at it in disbelief before quickly folding it and shoving it into my bag. “You good?” Lissie asks me.
“Yeah, just surprised.” 
“I know, that was really unexpected but luckily we all got something from Max. I got a photo with him as well he looked so fucking good in that suit.”
She was right, he did look so good and that feeling he made me feel, oh it was stronger than before but a small fire between my legs also grew. I just hoped it wasn’t lust, especially for a man I just learnt the name of. ✭
The next morning we were back in the paddock, me being the only one not partially hungover by the drug of alcohol. We started walking past the red bull hospitality, my eyes flickering over to the door praying to see that one man. But my prayer wasn’t answered as FP3 started and I only saw him on a big screen. 
Once FP3 finished we stayed in McLaren hospitality for a little while longer waiting to catch a glimpse of the two stars with the fastest lap times. And to our luck both of the Mclaren drivers walked in, but they weren’t the only ones, Max Verstappen walked beside Lando in his dark blue drivers suit. I ran up to them with my friends, letting them congratulate the drivers as I stood back. Not noticing one of the drivers leave until a feather touch of a hand was on my back. “You didn’t call or text me. And I thought you were gonna be my good girl.”
I took a deep breath, somehow knowing exactly whose voice it was. 
“It’s gonna take more than that. But tell me… what do you really want?” My voice firmer and somehow trying to gain confidence like his, soon feeling even more flustered when I hear his chuckle beside me. “What do I want? Oh honey, I want you.” My lips part, trying to control my breathing through my mouth. His finger comes beneath my chin and my head is lifted to the side to face him. His fingers trickle down my chin and throat, reaching the cross that sits barely above my cleavage. 
“What’s this?”
“It’s um…” I became lost for words, knowing exactly what I would’ve said but I can’t say it to him. He deserves so much more.
“I’m not into this stuff, gods and everything. They don’t really do much for you, but you give them everything.” I shake my head lightly, trying to show my disagreement but not make him want to leave me. 
“Oh? My good girl doesn’t believe me?” The fake surprise on his face teases me. “Would your god let me touch you? Would he let me make you cry from my dick?” Max brings his face closer to mine, just enough for his breath to touch my ear. His large hands run down my arms and he grabs a hold of my phone. 
“Unlock it.” He commands me, crystal blue eyes hypnotising me. And without a question, I unlocked it.
“Now you have no excuse to not call me.” He shows me his number in which he just typed into my contacts, calling it to watch his phone start ringing. “Now I have yours.” He saves my number, looking back up at me. “Now won’t you tell me your name?” 
“Why? You’ll only call me your good girl.” My lips move faster than my mind. Not recognising my own words. 
“My good girl, trying to be someone you’re not. Now, tell. Me. Your. Name.”
“Y/n.” I say watching a pleased smile on his perfect lips. And then just like last night he leaves me there, standing thinking about something bigger than the whole world—him. ✭
Up came the race day, the one in which the whole place was filled, park passes, hospitality and grandstands. We came in earlier than usual after the girls all somehow noticed the end of me and Max's last interaction. Going crazy and asking if there’s something between us, what his hands feel like, if I’m his new wag and will I see him after this all. 
I thought about that last question longer. I don’t know if god brought us together or maybe he’s something here for something else, but I don’t usually enjoy having no clue what’s going on, so I plan on finding out. 
We find a seat in hospitality and when I finally gain the courage to send Max a text I see that he’s beat me to it. 
‘You’re not my good girl anymore’
‘Why don’t you come to redbull and I’ll show you what you really are’
I become flushed at his words, squeezing my legs together. Checking the time he sent the message I curse at myself for not seeing it earlier. We have nearly half an hour left until the race and all the drivers are with their teams. I couldn’t possibly go now, so I blame myself for not being able to touch his skin or hear his voice before the race.
So instead I send him a text, replying to the ones he had sent.
‘How about you win the race and I’ll be your good girl’
It barely takes a minute for the message to turn from delivered to read. He starts typing then stops, typing again then stopping. He teases me with that for what feels like hours, until I finally receive something. 
‘Be ready, once I’m done you won’t be able to say your name.’
I was speechless, leaving his message on read, letting him know he already stole all the words from me. I turn my phone off, watching the last few pre race interviews before I see Max walk past behind a crowd of people. A tiny smirk on his face, I smile knowing it was for me. 
My emotions throughout the whole race were a rollercoaster. Watching a crash between 3 drivers had me praying they were all ok and that it would never come across Max. There were battles all over the circuit, Max managing to never be a part of any as he led the race. I was surprised at how fast the race went by, from complaining about the length of them to now letting the time run right past.
My friends pulled me away once the race ended, telling me we had to watch the podium. And I was glad I let them take me. I watched max from below, majestic being the word to explain him. He wore his suit and sweat trickled on him, hair swept to the side like always. His eyes so soft I couldn’t imagine he was the same man that threatened to make me cry from his dick. I’m not complaining but he looked so content, so happy with himself and he never had needed God's validation. 
Everything in my head seems to become blurry, Max’s smile the only thing still keeping me here. I manage to find his eyes, remembering the blue of it from the first time. His lips change and I’m certain I see his signature smirk, just for me. 
When both of the national anthems finish they start spraying champagne, becoming my queue to escape to the red bull hospitality. I didn’t have any clue where to go so I waited for him outside the building. 
His teammate Checo walked past me, giving me a smile like I was any fan and then a crowd of people were making their way here. All following the man himself, Max Verstappen. He sees me standing there, that one smirk arises on his face before he whispers something to the woman beside him, probably his assistant or something, because once they reach me she smiles and then takes me to his driver's room as Max finishes with all the fans.
I take in the surroundings, the room being small but big enough to fit the things he needs. A decent sized bathroom and a mirror being the door of his cupboard filled with redbull polos, which seem to be the only thing he wears. 
“You going through my stuff, doll?” I turn at the noise, seeing Max walk into the room and start unzipping his racing suit.
“No, you left me in a room alone, what else am I to do?”
He chuckles and walks closer to me, his suit now hanging around his waist. He comes closer, nearly caging me into the wall with his body. A few strands of his hair fell and now hang between the two of us. I have nowhere to go, not like I’d ever want to leave, but it’s not like he’d let me. 
“I won.” He breathes out.
“And now I’m your good girl.” Max shakes his head, chuckling as his arm rests on the wall above my head.
“You’re not a good girl… but I’m gonna make you one.” He moves his head closer to mine, nearly touching my skin with his lips but he doesn’t make contact. Teasing me by going along my face and down my neck. So close I can feel his breath, but he never touches me. Trailing across my collar bone as I try to ease my breathing.
I lightly arch my back, bringing my chest closer to him, trying to force the contact. But then he stops. He grabs my pendant, the one of a cross. 
“You’ve been worshipping the same man for years, would it bring you to hell to worship another? Let’s say… me.” 
I don’t have time for a reaction as he smashes his lips into mine, taking my breath away. His hands cup either side of my face, holding me in place as he kisses my lips in a way no other person has before. My body writhes against the wall, having no clue what to do but touch him. Try and touch him in a way no person ever has and ever will. 
That my religion is his lips.
I lean into his touch when his hand reaches up my shirt, not touching my breasts yet, but caressing the skin of my back and waist. Max groans into my mouth, lighting a fuse between my legs that I tried to keep out. 
My nails dig into his shoulders, fireproof still tight along his body. I can’t control my body, wanting to feel every inch of him against and inside me. 
“If you wanna be a good girl, then you can wait.” I whine at his words when his lips leave me. My chest still arched and body screamed with need. “I don’t want you to move.” He tells me, eyes a darker shade and voice commanding. I nod my head quickly, hoping the faster I am, he will be. “So needy.” Max chuckles almost as if he’s teasing me of wanting him so much. 
He starts closing the gap between us, standing directly in front of me and looking down because of our heights. I grow accustomed to the heat his body spreads and the pink of his post-race cheeks. Falling for his looks before his touch steals my attention. His fingers slide down the side zip of my short skirt, pulling it down my legs until it reaches the floor. He pushes my legs apart with his foot and my pussy pulses with anticipation. 
I observe him as his fingers don’t go close to where I need him, instead doing the job of taking my top off of me. I lift my arms up to help him, feeling the cool air of the room brush against my body. 
“Take the rest off.” He tells me, standing back to watch my whole body. Eyes skimming me from top to bottom. My skin turned hot, a mix of emotions making me react in different ways. I nod, slowly taking my clothes off. Smiling to myself when I see Max brush a hand against the bulge in his suit. 
Once my panties and bra lay on the floor Max finally comes back. Hands gliding down my arms and then intertwining with my fingers. He guides each of my arms above my head, giving him full access to my body. Making me more vulnerable than I’ve ever been. 
The pads of his thumbs barely touch my nipples, forcing a whine out of my mouth and my chest to press into him. He pulls away immediately, draining his contact from me. And then he comes again, sliding his fingers over my nipples and I have to force myself to stay still.
Max’s fingers tickle down my bare body, he goes between my cleavage and caresses my breasts with the light touch of his finger tips. Soon going over my stomach and my lower abdomen. He delays the contact to my core and starts tracing my hip bones with each hand, slipping to my backside as he cups my ass with his hands.
“Fuck.” He mutters. Moving his hands from my backside to start lightly touching my thighs. Max advances to the inside of my thighs, spreading my legs a little wider, making it easier for his eyes and fingers. My lips parted long ago and breathing became uneven. Suspense ran through my veins as I felt the heat from his fingers approach my core. 
I was certain my arousal was close to dripping on his fingers, and then he finally touched me. Not as firm as I wanted, but his fingers still make contact. Teasing my clit as his eyes are on me, watching as my bottom lip is drawn between my teeth. 
The feeling was so new to me, I had never been touched by a man like this. Do I regret it, not really, because that would mean Max wouldn’t be the first. 
A loud moan rips the silence of the room, the filthy sound leaving my mouth. His middle finger runs between my folds and I flinch at the feeling, letting the moan leave my mouth freely watching as Max smiles. 
My climax surely builds up from his teasing strokes.
I then lose the feeling of his fingers, a cry leaving my mouth. “Be my good girl and show me how you make yourself cum.”
“I thought you were gonna make me a good girl. But I guess you’re not as good as I thought.” I slide my hand down my body, going down the trail between my legs. My eyes firm on Max as many emotions run across his face. I touch my clit and be sure to moan louder and longer than when Max touched me. My eyes were closed that I didn’t see as Max made his way closer, but his loud steps were enough. 
My hand his forces off my body and held above my head. Max’s other hand now occupying the job he told me to do myself. He doesn’t take his time now. Thrusting two digits inside of me with force. “I’ll make you cum. Give me a number.”
“Three.” I whine out between each of his thrusts, focusing on the harsh face he gives me.
“Fuck, making it so easy for me. I already made you cum once.” He chuckles at the confusion on my face. Pulling his fingers out of me and showing me my cum that moves down them. I moan at the sight, then once again as he shoves them in his mouth. My eyes stuck on his tongue as he circles each finger. When he pulls them out of his mouth a string of saliva is hanging from his fingertip. I watch as he brings his digits closer to my lips, telling me to open my mouth to get a taste of him. 
Max slides his fingers out of my mouth and drags it down my body. 
“Let’s do something new” Max says as he goes on his knees. Kneeling in front of me and making my pussy throb. He doesn’t say anymore words as he forces my legs on his shoulders. I clench my pussy as his breath brushes against it in such a way it’s a drug. 
The words slow, leisurely and gentle out of his mind as he starts eating me out. Like a starved man and I’m a whole dinner. The sensation of his flat tongue against such a sensitive part of me makes me crazy. My fingers diving into his perfect hair to ruin it. 
He toys with my clit and slides his tongue inside of me. 
It hadn’t taken long until I was reaching my release. Pulling at his hair with force and whining so loud I’m sure people outside could hear. But that only made it more thrilling. 
“So quick. But I’m not done.” Max says against my pussy before going back in. Bringing me to surprise. He licks and sucks all my cum, fingers coming back to ram inside of me as his tongue toys with my swollen clit. 
He made tears come to my eyes and a moan mixed with a whine to leave my mouth as I came another time. Even more sensitive.
Max helps me get off his shoulders before standing up to peel every piece of fabric off his body. Once my eyes laid on his skin I could truly say the suit doesn’t give him justice. 
My mouth watered at the sight of his cock. Making me question how easily he would fit. 
“Come here.” Max demands. And I do, walking up to him just for him to tell me to get on my knees. I grow nervous as his dick now sits in front of my face and as I’m about to grab it  Max tells me to do something completely different. 
“Go on your hands and knees. And face the mirror.” I quickly do it, seeing myself in the thin mirror. I look further up to observe Max. He grabs my hips, lifting them up so they're in line with his. 
I hold my breath as he brings his dick to my entrance. Circling it with his tip and watching me through the mirror. He distracts me with his signature smirk and then rams inside of me. Bottoming out immediately. My mouth opens in an ‘o’ shape as he takes my breath away with his dick. Pulling out and then thrusting back in with more power. His skin slapping against mine and tip viciously hitting my g-spot. 
Max leans forward and grabs my hair in a makeshift ponytail, forcing my head up. “I want you to watch as I fuck all the words out of your mouth.” 
My vision blurred by the tears, but I make out our figures. My tears fall as Max drives his dick into me once again. 
“That’s it. Cry over my dick. So. Fucking. Good.” He grits between his teeth at each thrust. I look at myself, being utterly ruined by a man I met a couple of days ago. He keeps my head up, not daring to let my eyes leave the mirror. His bottom lip is between his teeth and eyebrows furrowed as he keeps in his moans. Letting mine fill the room instead. 
I can barely hold up my body as I get closer to my climax. Clenching around Max multiple times before I finally release. 
A string of unholy sounds escape my mouth and it’s as if they set off Max, ultimately allowing me to hear him moan just as I had done before. 
Max twitches inside of me before he releases. Swearing in dutch before calling me a good fucking girl. His cum fills and distracts me as he pulls out. Demanding me to stay there.
I expect to see him walk out with a cloth, but instead his phone. He angles the camera right behind me, capturing his cum that drips out of me and both our faces in the mirror.
My face holds confusion and he sees it, keeping a straight face.
“People usually have photos of their gods, something to look at when they worship it. And this is mine.”
899 notes · View notes
myfandomprompts · 7 months
Text
Unhealthy Addiction
(drugdealer!Aemond x Reader)
Tumblr media
Synopsis: Your sister is a drug addict, at the mercy of a dreaded drug dealer group led by a mysterious man. When you decide to save your sister from this life that kills her, you didn’t expect to build a whole other addiction to a perfect stranger.
A/N: Just some illogical & weird moderndark!Aemond smut in the October mood.
Words: 5.6k Masterlist
Warnings: dirty talk, dom, oral , vaginal, fingering, manipulation, possessive, begging, light bdsm, slight mention of drugs, praising
Tumblr media
Your sister was at her lowest.
She kept screaming at you, scaring the neighbours, alarming the entire street when she went into one of her tantrums and you didn’t know what to do. She was hurting, a pain that only something chemical could ease and you refused to indulge her. This was all she had in mind, getting that fix, and she didn’t mind doing the most violent things, saying the cruellest things to you in order to plead her case.
She kept screaming how she could not be done, how she bought all the drugs from this scary guy, that he convinced her to sell for him. That she couldn’t refuse.
She had no control over herself anymore, but you didn't back down, you had to get her clean.
So you decided that you would take care of it for her. 
You made her tell you where she got it from, a shady little place on Silk Street with shady people going around all day and night with business even the police didn’t even dare looking into as you forced her down to the ER. If it was the last link that tied her to this life and her addiction, you would cut it, and, as she dozed off in her hospital bed, you rushed to her flat in apprehension, grabbing the bag full of those terrifying substances and heading down to Silk Street.
You knew it was a bad idea, but you knew you had to do it. You just had to give the bag back, explain to them that your sister wanted nothing to do with them anymore, pay up whatever amount was necessary to make them forget about her and leave.
How naive you were.
You knock on the scruffy-looking door with a trembling hand, the chilly night already settling around you as dogs barked in the distance. 
The door creaks open, dim light filtering through a slim screen of smoke that comes out of the  messy room. The few people inside look concerningly calm, the soothing electronic music making their head bob inconsistently as the smell of weed slowly reaches you and tickles your nose.
“What?” the huge man at the door says in a flat tone, tattoos on his face but alert eyes strained on you.
“I… have stuff to give back to you,” you courageously state, staring back at him with all the fierceness you could muster and only earning an unimpressed look.
You owed it to your sister, you could do it.
He gauges your appearance mercilessly, unfit for this place and only when you take out the heavy plastic bag out of your purse does he nod silently and step aside to let you in. 
You retain a cough, the scent of smoke becoming much stronger as you enter and making your eyes sting. Several pairs of eyes which weren’t hooded and gazing into the void looked lazily at you, eyes so dark there was no more colour in them, swallowed by the blackness of their centre. Two or three men stared at you like they would jump at you at the first false movement while the few women present were half laying on the couches, mouth open in what looked like delight, but you knew better.
A chill goes up your spine, hearing the door close behind you in a sharp snap while you feel the air shift around you.
You did not belong here.
“Who are you?”
The man came out of nowhere, brown skin and brown eyes, luxurious dark hair falling to the side of his face and all dressed in white with a heavy chain hanging around his neck. He scrutinises you, looking you up and down with a judgmental frown.
“It doesn’t matter,” you state after a difficult swallow. “I’m here to return this.”
The man eyes the bag you extend to him, a flash of recognition passing through his features but he doesn’t take it, rather deepening his frown. “Where did you get this?”
You bite your lips, growing uneasy under his gaze. All that you wanted was to leave this place as quickly as possible, even if you had to lie to achieve that. “Maria doesn’t want to do this anymore, and we don’t want any problems. So I’m doing the right thing, and returning it to you.”
The man sneers, an amused smile dancing on his lips and you tense. “Yeah, I’m afraid it doesn’t work like that, sweetheart. You’re her sister, aren’t you?”
You don’t have time to answer as the man at the door approaches him with a serious look on his face, ignoring you. “Cole, the boss is back.” 
“Perfect timing, he’ll want to see this,” the man named Cole answers without taking his eyes off you. “You’re coming with me, sweetheart. We’ll sort this out, don’t worry.”
You could feel it, the trap closing in on you as he takes the bag from your hands and turns away for you to follow him. “I just want to give you this and leave. Please.”
He gives you an uninterested look over his shoulder, shrugging. “It’s not up to me.”
You shiver as panic starts to fill your nerves, the desire to flee, to run becoming stronger but you make the sensible choice and do as you’re told. 
He leads you into a cold-lighted room where the sole wide window is draped with a thick grey curtain and blocks your view of the humid night. The carpet floor is dirty, rendering you uncomfortable as you advance further into the room, chairs and stools stacked along the walls and an old looking desk standing at the opposite side. Even the huge couch below the window isn’t welcoming, the mess on the low table in front of it is filled with objects you don’t recognise.
You shouldn't be here.
Cole throws the bag on the table unceremoniously, the sound startling you as he commands you to wait. “Don’t touch anything.”
You try to settle your breathing, the room suffocating you as you realise that you are stuck, led there by a fool’s hope of coming to an understanding with these men, with dangerous people. You recall the frightened look on your sister’s face as she yelled at you, saying that she couldn’t fail them, couldn’t upset them.
Maybe you should have listened to her. Maybe you should have been scared too.
Muffled whispers filter through the door over the faint music, making you turn around with renewed anxiety as you recognise Cole’s voice. You know your time is running out, and you have no idea what’s going to happen. But then the door opens and you freeze.
It isn’t Cole, but someone much taller, leaner, terrifyingly attractive. 
He has long silver hair, silk cascading down over his shoulders that are wrapped around a dark green vest. He wears black trousers, matching with his tee-shirt that clings to his form and contrasts with his skin, fair and white. He effortlessly radiated an unsettling confidence, which you could feel even from a distance, making every muscle in your body tense, and you don’t know where to look. He hasn't even spoken yet.
His eyes are fixed on you, a perverted glow shining within them but you can’t meet it, too focused on the angular features of his face, on how flawless his marble skin and thin red lips look under the dim light. Everything about him is captivating, from his collarbone that peaks from under his shirt to the long scar that runs across his left cheek and further up his eye.
At this moment, you understood why your sister had been scared.
He stares at you for a while before finally smiling briefly in unconcealed satisfaction and closing the door. You don’t move, too stunned to utter a single word as he slowly walks towards the table to pick up the plastic bag and examine it closely, humming to himself. You watch, speechless, noticing the red marks over his knuckles, the bruises that stain his fist and you swallow the taste of iron in your mouth. 
The bag is carelessly dropped again as he reaches for a cigarette within his vest without a word, fingers enticingly coming to trap it between his lips and you’re hypnotised, desperate for him to acknowledge you, to say something. But then he flicks the lighter, casting an orange flame on the upper side of his face and you can’t help but gasp.
Unnoticed in the dim light, you can see it now, see how one of his eyes shimmers an icy blue, while the other one shone darker, deeper.
Blue as the night sky.
“You’re Maria’s sister?”
His voice makes you jump, his deep and velvety tone making the hair stand at the back of your neck and your heart race in your chest.
“Y-Yes,” you stammer, words coming out of your throat in strained sounds.  “Yes, I am.”
He nods, one corner of his lips curving upwards slightly as he takes a drag, making a thin curtain of smoke escape his sharp nose. “And you’re here because…?”
You manage to swallow the lump in your throat as he draws closer, intelligent eyes searching your features, making you hyper aware of how small you are compared to him. “I… just want to give the drugs back, so she can leave this part of her life behind. We won’t cause any trouble, I-I promise.”
He stops inches in front of you, his body going rigid as his eyes turn a shade of black, making you take a step back in reaction. “And what makes you think I can let that happen?”
You widen your eyes at the soft-spoken threat, freezing as you cower under his gaze.
He sees this. It makes him smile. 
“Relax, kitten. I'm not going to hurt you…” he says in the same unsettling tone as his blue eye lowers to the way your chest heaves under your shirt. “It’s just… not how we do things. When you take my stuff, you make a commitment, and you have to go all the way through with it or you get punished. There is no return policy.”
You could see it now, right beneath the scar, the gemstone shoved inside of his eye socket, as blue as the starless sky. It glowed softly, beautifully, and you were left to wonder how a man like him could be so dangerously pretty.
You urgently chase the thought away, slapping yourself internally as you feel yourself shrink under his gaze. “She can’t-,” you try uselessly, feeling the noose slowly constricting around your neck. “I understand, but I’ll pay for you to take it back. I beg of you, it represents almost nothing for you. Please…”
Something noticeably shifts in his eye at your last word, his nostrils flaring as he takes some time to compose himself before asking. “What’s your name?”
You hesitate, thrown off by the question and unable to come up with the simple answer and he grows impatient at your silence. He takes a firm step forward, making the back of your knee hit the chair behind you as the faint heat from the tip of his cigarette reaches your sides somewhere over the skin of your hand.
“What’s. Your. Name?” he repeats slowly, a hint of darkness in his voice.
“Y/N,” you finally blurt out, barely hearing your own voice as he claims your space like it’s his own, prowling.
His lips form silent syllables as he repeats your name to himself, finally satisfied. “And do you know mine, kitten?”
You silently shake your head, feeling excitement rise at the prospect of knowing, shameful eagerness taking hold of your mind, not thinking for a second that it might anger him.
But he only clicks his tongue in disapproval, watching you like you’re nothing more than a nuisance. “I’m Aemond, and if you had known that, kitten, you wouldn’t be here. Because everybody fucking knows I don’t take things back.”
Your nerves stir in renewed fright as his words ring like a death sentence in your ears. You have to find something, anything that would suit him, please him, but your mind draws a blank, the intensity of his gaze holding you in place. You remain silent as he takes a drag from his cigarette, not tearing his eye from you and when he suddenly turns away, it leaves a cold trail of chills along your spine.
You let out a quiet sigh of relief, your lungs burning from your previous lack of air as he wanders around the room.
“I take it you don’t use?” he says unexpectedly as he crushes his cigarette in the ashtray before taking the bag again on the table, drawing a round white pill out with his usual soft tone.
“No…” you answer weakly as he rolls the pill between his fingers, your eyes following the movement, transfixed.
“Mh… You’re one of those… The ones that don’t take wrong turns, the good girls.”
The stress that had settled between your ribs turns into something warmer at the calling, his tone inexplicably making the last ounce of courage you have left emerge. 
“If I didn’t take any wrong turns, I wouldn't have ended up here.”
He stills, his eye darting towards you like a single-eyed hawk and you bite your lips in instant regret, almost drawing blood as teeth sink into the thin flesh. His eye lowers to it and you instantly let go with a bashful expression.
He chuckles darkly, a devious smirk appearing on his features and you blink. “See, this is where you’re wrong. I don’t think you’ve realised the opportunity you just walked into… Y/N.”
You feel your stomach turn as reality hits you, your worst fear taking shape right in front of your eyes. Whatever he wanted with you, you could not let it happen, you could not fail your sister and get into the system like she did. She needed you. “Please, Aemond, I only want to be square with you and-”
There was a loud sound, plastic being crushed under immense force as his hand wrapped around the bag and violently squeezed. He took a deep shaky breath, his flashing gaze fixed on you as his knuckles turned white under the pressure. But it was gone seconds later, acting like it had never happened as he dropped the bag and started walking towards you.
“I used, once. This is how it all began,” he stated, a single slender finger brushing the edge of the table as he advanced. “I wasn’t really addicted, but I knew it was enough to cloud my mind, to make me believe that I needed it. But do you want to know what I really need, kitten? Why I stopped?”
You tried to hold his gaze when he lifted a single heated eye at you, excited by his little story, excited by something. He was in his element, he had the upper hand, he knew he was in control. You were only a slave to the fiery blood in your veins.
His finger had reached your arm by the time you registered his question, looming over it like a reverse magnet, untouching. He smiles when he sees chills prickle over your skin there, right before his pupils spread wider, an ink drop in water and you hold your breath.
“I like people begging me. I like the desperation in their voices, their scared little expressions as they mutter pathetic excuses, their pleas as I beat them…” You can feel the thrill in his tone, the pleasure that radiates off him, and you gasp when his finger finally touches your skin, burning. “I like hearing them beg me when they realise there is no escape, when they realise I’m the only solution, that I alone can give them what they want…I like this sensation of control, and I need to feel it on my own terms. Without any substances."
His hand has travelled down your arm, finding your pulse and you feel the thrumming of your heart meet his fingertips, pressing the delicate vein there. You wonder if he can feel your blood running within it, hot and wild. 
“You know, when Cole told me there was a lost pretty girl that wanted a refund, I laughed and could not wait to scare that girl. How naive she must be, how foolish. Coming here, wanting nothing more but to protect her poor little sister, asking what I cannot grant you, thinking you’ll get out of it like it’s nothing and not realising the mess you’re in. Just… perfect.”
You want to talk, argue, but you had stopped breathing altogether when his face leans slightly closer to your shoulder and you hear him breathe in your scent, humming within your neck. 
“But then, here you are… Pleading me, not once, but three times, kitten, with your sweet little tone of yours and I just-” he inhales brusquely, his pupil now completely blown out as you tremble beneath him. When he manages to talk again, his voice has dropped several octaves lower, guttural. “And now, let’s say that scaring you is not the only thing I want to do to you.”
The air feels sucked out of the room as tension fills it, palpable within the silence and you retain a whimper. His hold on your wrist turns stronger, as if to mark it, your pulse constricted beneath his fingers and you suddenly feel dizzy, gravity pulling you backward as you lose balance. You drop in the chair behind you like a stringless marionette, overthrown by him and his overwhelming presence.
He doesn’t flinch, neither does he comment as he leans over you, strong arms resting on the armrests at each side of you, trapping you as if he had planned everything. You huff when the tip of his hair grazes the skin of your cleavage, a silver curtain dropping under his face.
“So we're going to try this once…. Say please to me again, and I might reconsider your sister's situation.”
A ray of hope cuts through your foggy mind at his words, determination spurring within you as your treacherous tongue already rolls to form the words, eager to please him despite the lack of air in your lungs. “Please...”
The wood at your side cracks as he tightens his grip on the armrest, a repressed hiss dying within his throat as he composes himself again, hooded eye fixed on you, smothering.
“Hm… Yes,” he breathes, content visible on his features. “But the thing is, kitten, your sister was useful to me. She had access to people I didn’t, people like you. I’m sure you can see why it’s difficult for me to let her go.”
You know he is taunting you, dragging out what he wants from you and you know you have no choice but to indulge him, you need to indulge him. “She won’t survive if she keeps on, please.”
You can feel it, the pleasure he takes out of it, the delectable sensation he draws from your words as he licks his lips, a devious smirk tugging at them as he speaks slowly. “And what about you… Kitten?”
The near whisper makes your spine go rigid, his nose coming to loom over the junction of your jaw and you truly try to answer. “I- I don’t understand…”
He is the first to notice as his eyes are drawn to the sudden movement of your body under him: how tightly your thighs are clenched together, how tense you are as you shift, muscle tenses.
You blush shamefully, untying your legs to try to soothe the ache there as well as the heat pooling between them. He lifts a knowing eyebrow, observing you with excitement. "Hm… Not such a good girl after all, are you, kitten?”
He slowly lowers himself, broad hands coming to stroke the length of your thighs from your knees to your hips, the heat of his palms scorching you through your jeans and you repress a whimper, failing. “Did begging me turn you on, kitten?” 
His voice is hoarse, playful. You notice his own arousal pressing against the fabric of his pants and it makes your legs widen, watching helplessly as your body responds to your primal urges. “Do you need me to touch you? Is that what you want?”
You struggle, trying to fight what had been evolving since he had entered the room but you find yourself overpowered by your desire, submerged by it. "Yes…"
He arches his eyebrow higher. "Yes, what?"
"Yes, please."
He almost groans as he slowly comes to unbutton your jeans, a warm hand sliding under it and your stomach tenses when he connects with your dampness. "Fuck, kitten. Do you want to say please to me again?” 
He rises, giving himself a better angle as he comes to close his face over yours, suffocating as he waits for an answer out of you. When you give him none, he proceeds to grab your chin, pressing your cheeks between his fingers as he continues to stroke the heat between your thighs.
His face is close as he breathes your ragged breaths. “Lost your tongue?”
His gaze is unforgiving, his lips parted in delectation as you moan under him, and you suddenly feel the need to taste them, to chase them.
The movement makes him pull back, tutting as he grips your cheeks tighter. “That was bad. Very bad of you.”
You let out a plaintive whimper when he steps away, his hands departing your wet core and mouth as he comes to stand before you, jaw hanging low, slightly panting. His gaze is fixed on your glistening skin despite the harshness of it, a punishing glare within his eye as he lowers his jeans and briefs in order to free his bulging girth. You feel your mouth salivate as he starts pumping himself in wide long strokes, gaze transfixed on your face.
You’re unable to look away, heaving and hands gripping the wood of the chair tightly. You don’t realise the grinding of your hips against the surface of the chair, unconsciously chasing for what he robbed you of, wanting.
“Stop that,” he commands in a strained voice as precum starts leaking from his tip. You immediately obey, your body stilling as he comes closer, a pang hitting your core at the sight of his continuous movement over him. “You want a taste, kitten?”
One of his hands reaches for your hair, fingers tangling in them softly as he continues to stroke himself steadily, looking down at you with parted lips and he almost purrs when you nod bashfully. He guides you on the floor, eyes blown wide as he makes you kneel before him by a slight pull of your hair. You lick your lips in expectation, soothed by his hand within your strands and feeling the heat radiating off of him. 
You feel warmth spread within your cheek as you approach but he suddenly yanks your hair strongly, holding you into place in a hiss. “Then beg for it.”
He has stopped his ministrations over himself, rather squeezing the base of his shaft and making the already swollen tip inflate with blood as he watches you with a harsh and wild blue eye. You have to swallow the saliva that has accumulated in your mouth to talk. “Please, I want you in my mouth, Aemond.”
He groans as he lets go of his throbbing cock and loosen his hold over your scalp, allowing you to finally run a playful tongue along his length and wrap your hands around him, appeased by the sounds you draw out of him. “That’s it… Good girl.”
You try to go slow, hollowing your cheeks while you take him deeper and deeper, but as the minutes pass you feel the pressure of his hand in your hair tighten. The next moment he is claiming your mouth, making his tip hit at the back of your throat in loud lewd sounds as well as gag several times before he lets you go with a low growl.
You try to settle your breathing again as he wipes the single thread of saliva that connects you to his cock before probing you up by your chin, chest heaving in lust. “Do you even know how good that begging mouth feels? Do you even realise?”
You only feel the aching inside of your lower stomach heighten through your daze, and your mouth forms lazy words you don’t know the purpose of, blinking weakly. “Please, Aemond…”
“Fuck, kitten. Are you going to ask me to fuck you, is that it? Is that what you want to say?”
His thumb grazes the side of your jaw and you barely acknowledge his length against your hip, hot against your flesh. “I- Yes.”
A low grumble escapes his mouth right before you’re pushed on the sofa without warning, his hands rushing to get rid of his vest and pants before tugging at yours, forcing you to dig your hands into the cushions as he bends you over.
You quiver as your skin is met with the cool air but the next moment he moulds his chest against your back and you freeze, his mouth coming to position inches from your ear as a rough hand grabs your throat from behind, squeezing.
“From now on, kitten, you beg me for everything. You want to be touched? You beg me. You want to touch me? You beg me. You want my cock? You say please. You want to cum? You fucking ask permission. You’re gonna be extra polite for me, you understand?”
You let out a strained sound against his fingers he takes for an affirmation before taking hold of your hips, not wasting a second to align himself near your entrance and you exhale in want as he lets go of your neck. Your fists clutch the fabric of the sofa as he runs his length against your folds once, twice, and you can’t help but close your eyes in frustration, feeling his pleasure growing at what he knows you’re about to say. “Please…”
You hear his satisfied growl as his fingers presses deeper into your flesh and you let out a quick gasp as he plunges into you in a swift stroke, quickly replaced by needy moans as you feel the ache in your loins sharpen. He fills you, his thrusts growing from controlled to erratic, faint praises whispered through the sounds of smacking flesh as he roams his hand over your back, and soon you feel your muscles pulse around him in building tension.
It makes him tighten at once behind you, fingers bruising the flesh of your ass as he suddenly withdraws and with a few last strokes, spills onto your back with a ragged groan.
“Fuck, look at the mess you’ve made…” he tuts while you whimper from the sudden loss, feeling your walls pulsating over nothing as he watches his cock glistens with your fluids. “You don’t care about being dirty, do you? You just like being a good girl.”
You whine again as he spreads his seed over your lower back soothingly, not caring for the stains but rather snaking a hand under your shirt, cupping one of your breasts to squeeze it as you wiggle under him, his name on your tongue.
“What is it, kitten? Do you need to cum?” he purrs as he caresses your breast firmly, hoisting you up against him.
“Yes please, please…”
His hold tightens, his face coming close to your neck and you can feel his hot breath on your cheek as he coos. “Prettier.”
The heat in your stomach thickens, heart racing against your ribcage in nervousness and you melt into his embrace. “P-Please, I need to cum. I need you to make me cum.”
He hums in satisfaction as he turns you around, flattening you against the back of the couch and yanking your shirt over your head as he spreads your legs, his jaw dropping in elation when he slides two fingers inside of you, making your head fall back with a loud moan. Your legs barely hold you as he rubs his thumb over your clit at a consuming pace, his long fingers finding the rough spot within you as if he had known it all of his life, and you’re soon panting heavily.
His gaze is fixed on your face, enjoying every moment, every painful expression as you’re closing on your high, waiting for you to say exactly what he wants and when he feels your walls clenching around his fingers, he stops, violently squeezing your inside between his three digits.
You wail at the sensation, meeting his harsh gaze and fascinated eye and soon you let out a strained sob, your inside muscles constricting painfully. “Aren’t you forgetting something, kitten?”
You swallow with difficulty as he smiles, his grip on you merciless, unmoving and you feel your legs tremble. “Please, don’t stop, I want- I need to cum. Please, I beg you.”
“Good girls ask permission, remember?” he grunts as he starts his movement again, rough digits now too slow on your wetness. “Try again.”
“Can I please… cum,” you plead in a strained sob, gripping the back of the couch more tightly but when he starts stroking your insides again, you see nothing but white, the coiling sensation within your core finally snapping and he doesn’t stop until you’re a puddle under him, letting you sink on the couch in a ghosting embrace.
“That’s it,” he soothes, grazing your waist and breast before gently making you suck on his fingers after the last shockwaves of your climax, tasting yourself through your heavy breaths. “Such an obedient little kitten.”
You slowly start to get the control of your legs back as he wipes some sweat out of your hair, but his gaze is nothing but soothing. “Fuck, look how hard you made me again, with you begging me so sweetly…”
He slowly runs one of his hands up your thigh, his hardening state hitting your flesh briefly before he lifts your knees up, positioning his weight over each of your thighs and you blink in anticipation, too dazed to utter a word. You angle yourself better against his body, the only confirmation he needs before he plunges into you again, this time his desire is too strong to wait for you to find your composure back.
It burns, vividly so, your swollen flesh barely recovered from your previous climax and you start moaning loudly, your hand rushing to your mouth to stop the embarrassing sounds from escaping your throat.
Two hands come to snap it away, lacing them over your head in a secure hold and you sink your teeth in your flesh when you meet his fierce gaze, the roll of his hips unfaltering. “No no no, kitten. Let them hear you, hear how desperate you are for my cock, how much you like begging for it.”
“Kiss me.”
He recoils slightly, his thrust slowing gradually as his single eye widen, the black of it taking over. “I don’t kiss my pets.”
“Please...”
Your voice sounds broken, a hint of determination within it that makes him blink and you can clearly see him battling himself for a moment before he crashes his lips against yours. The suddenness of it makes you moan against him as he devours you, the roll of his hips starting again deeper, needier.
It hits every right spot despite the overstimulation and soon you feel a numbness take hold of you, goosebumps spreading over your body. “Aemond, I’m going to-”
He grunts against your mouth as his hand comes to play with your breast again, freeing one of your own in the process that you bring to his face, stroking the smooth skin there along with the scar that marks his cheek. “You’re not cumming yet, I need you to wait a little while longer, alright kitten?”
His thrust slows again and you feel the pleasurable pain of being denied once more, filled by the need to obey him. “I can’t-”
“Don’t you dare cum before I say so, be a good girl and wait for my fucking permission, you understand?”
You close your eyes in a tremendous effort not to let the stretching sensation of him rocking inside of you overcome you too fast, your back arching under him and you feel his free hand flatten against your stomach to immobilise you, shushing you in a husky tone.
You beg one last time, feeling your guts heating up with the way he is chasing his own climax with deep thrusts and you dig your nails in his shoulder.
“Fuck… Come on, kitten, come for me, you can let go.”
Your vision blurs, your eyes rolling back as you cry out, your body going numb under the shattering pleasure and you don’t register anything, not how he follows you minutes later as you clench around him nor where he spills himself. You just feel like your limbs don’t obey you anymore.
You huff, feeling Aemond’s scent and sweat envelop you and when you open your eyes he is looking down at you with a hooded eye.
His thumb massages a spot over your shoulder and a sorry expression passes on his feature as he sets a strand of your hair aside. “I can’t grant you what you asked for.”
You feel cold all of a sudden, the air biting your damp skin as his warm fingers graze your cheek, feeling your disappointment. 
“I’ll leave your sister alone, as you wished, but I’m not taking the drugs back. You’ll have to find a way to sell, as Maria promised she would.”
A wave of relief runs through you, happiness for your sister but an odd sensation takes place within your chest as the man next to you watches you with fierceness. “Because you… you’re going to be very useful to me, kitten.”
You don’t glance away, you don’t recoil.
Because you’re not sure you want to leave anyway.
Tumblr media
Tagging @watercolorskyy and thanking @babyblue711 for the beta reading. We cannot disappoint.
1K notes · View notes
burntoutdaydreamer · 1 month
Text
3 Steps to Improve Your Characters and Make Them Three-Dimensional
So I don’t have a process for creating/developing characters (to me the process is intuitive to the point where I wouldn’t even know how to explain it), but I do have a process for revising characters that just… fall flat, for whatever reason. 
I like to get to know my characters by throwing them into a bunch of different situations and seeing how they react, but sometimes that’s not enough. In these cases I need to go back to the drawing board and figure out how to make them not feel like a cardboard caricature of the role I need them to fill. Here’s the process I use, and it involves three key questions to understand what makes your character tick.
1) What is this character’s fundamental belief- either about the world or themself?
2) Where does this belief come from?
3) How does this belief hinder them, and are they capable of growing past it?
Alright, here’s what the process looks like in action. 
Let’s say I have a character I need to flesh out for my story.
Character A is a middle aged coffee shop owner and the protagonist of her story. The central conflict of the story revolves around trying to save the family run coffee shop she inherited from her father when he passed away, which has recently fallen on hard times.
What is this character's fundamental belief?
Character A believes that the world is an inherently good and fair place. She believes that good is always rewarded and bad is always punished, even if the timing isn't always perfect. As such, she strives to live a virtuous life, putting as much good into the world as she possibly can. While she understands that even good people can face hard times, she believes that in the long term, if things don't work out, it'll be because she didn't put in the work needed to turn things around.
Where does this belief come from?
Character A grew up in a solidly middle class household with good parents that treated her well- rewarding her for good work, and fairly punishing her for misdeeds. Her parents gave her everything she needed, but also expected her to work hard for the things she wanted. She also had the experience of watching her father build a successful business through hard work and by building strong connections with the people in town. If we want to push this further, we could also say that this belief was reaffirmed by watching her brother ruin his own life, squandering all his money and goodwill with those around him on failed get-rich-quick-schemes and outright scams that landed him in jail.
How does this belief hinder them, and are they capable of growing past it?
Let's say that Character A recently hired a barista who seems perfect for the job. Strapped for help, she gets him started right away before getting the results of his background check. When the results come in, she finds out that he is on probation and was recently released from jail for a violent crime. Shocked, she fires him. Believing that people who end up in jail always deserve it, she can't see past her initial prejudices. As a result, her coffee shop suffers from the loss of her new star barista.
Some time goes on, and Character A encounters the barista again, and learns more about the circumstances that landed him in jail (maybe he was falsely convicted, maybe he was battling psychosis, maybe the violent act was done to prevent a loved one- anything that makes her question her initial assumptions). He then confesses that he is struggling to provide for himself and his family because no one will hire him because of his criminal record. Character A comes to realize that her belief isn't completely true, and that the world isn't entirely fair. Though it takes a lot of inner work to do so, including coming to terms with her privilege, she eventually accepts this, and revises her beliefs. She decides that even though the world isn't fair, people have the responsibility to make it fair.
She decides to re-hire the barista she fired. After doing everything she can to make things right with him, she proposes an idea she wants his help with. Together, they transform her family business into a joint coffee shop and community rehabilitation center. In addition to selling coffee, they also launch a program to provide resources to recently incarcerated individuals looking to reenter society. They'll host weekly events on job interview coaching, alcoholics anonymous, motivational speeches, group therapy, opportunities to connect with open-minded employers, and more. Their promotion of this new program enables them to secure funding from local patrons and public grants, and customers are willing to pay for more expensive coffee with the knowledge that that money will be put to good use.
Additionally, if we want to go with the brother in jail backstory, we could have this ending be an opportunity for her to reconnect with him and maybe even repair their relationship as she gets to see him in a new light.
Main Takeaways
And there you have it!
You can use this process on any character- protagonist, antagonist, side character, etc. By grounding your character's motivations and development in their beliefs, you can easily introduce depth and internal conflict while keeping everything connected to the themes and plot driving your story.
Depending on your character's role or your story's plot, the belief can be wide reaching and complex (such as a philosophy or ideology), or specific and personal (such as having to do with their self-esteem). Either way, it should always be tied to their personal experiences or observations. This doesn't necessarily mean a tragic backstory. It could be, but I encourage you not to make this your default way of creating character depth. A mundane but grounded and sincere motivation will always be more compelling than cheap, dark shock factor.
Generally, protagonists with happy endings and villains with successful redemption arcs are capable of moving past their beliefs, while tragic heroes and antagonists aren't, and this failure is usually the source of their downfall. Keep in mind that even if characters do move past their old beliefs, it will always be a difficult thing to do. It will require them to confront their own mistakes, biases, and emotional wounds, and require both internal and external work in order to fix whatever their old beliefs have damaged.
Hopefully this guide will help you approach your characters from a different perspective. Feel free to share any insights.
Happy writing y'all!
491 notes · View notes
ivys-garden · 3 months
Text
Alright let's go season 10 predictions.
There will be at least one new Hermit, Probably Skizz, But I also think it's highly likely Joel and Lizzie also join - really hoping for this, Skizz is great, Joel is an amazing builder and has fun interactions with the others (expect his episode one to be dominated by Boat Boys and Neck Kissing Jokes) and Lizzie is also great at Building and would be another edition to the Hermit Girls Murder Group (before any of yall say Stress and Lizzie aren't murderes - they are.)
Soup Group won't base ontop of each other, but they will be relatively close and will commit shenanigans together. Someone else will also base near them and join the shenanigans- maybe Cleo, Stress or False, Mabye Scar if he isn't with buttercups, maybe Lizzie if she's added.
If Skizz is added he doesn't make his own base and instead joins another Hermit and lives in there's, helping with building, Probably Impulse or Tango.
Buttercups will base superclose to each other, its tradition at this point.
Doc will continue to break the game in increasing absurd ways.
If there are new Hermits, Joe sings a little song to welcome them - and then The Hermit Girls Murder Group welcomes them with murder.
Gem keeps the head collecting going - especially if there's new Hermits
Tango (and probably some others) will start the season late. They bloody deserve it.
Someone acidentally breaks the game in the first 5 episodes.
A war starts within the first 25 episodes.
A Spawn area will be on an island.
749 notes · View notes
bluerosefox · 4 months
Text
The Drakes
It's been years since the Bats had seen Red Robin much less Tim Drake-Wayne. It started with a rather dumb argument that after years of holding back his tongue and the stress of being a TEENAGE CEO that Tim finally ripped into them.
They were too stunned by the end of his speech, him also admitting that yes he has his own problems and mistakes but at least he's trying to make amends or get over himself unlike others. It was their prolonged silence that was the final straw for him it seemed though, because Tim finally announced he was done, he was done bleeding for those that kept him on the edge of the family and that he wanted to rest, and with that Tim turned and left the Batcave for the final time.
They of course didn't take Tim's retirement announcement seriously, after all Tim was the last person other than Bruce they all believed would ever leave the life of a vigilante and a hero behind, and they all knew Bruce would keep working on the 'mission' even as a frail old man. It took them a few weeks before one of them finally decided to go see Tim and try to... talk about everything he said.
Only when they reached Tim's Nest, they discovered it was empty and he was no where to be found did they realize he was serious. It was a quick call to Wayne Enterprises to see if he was in and Tam no doubt holding back her sharp response to them that she told them that Tim had stepped down from CEO weeks ago and hasn't been heard from since. The one who went to see Tim immediately called the others, which sent many of them onto goose chase of false leads, arguments, and pointing blame.
Despite looking for their long lost Red Robin, he was good at hiding his tracks and any who might have an idea where he could be weren't talking.
So yeah it's been a while since the Bats had heard any news relating to their lost bird.
So imagine their surprise when Ra's latest attempt to upset the balance in their family again (did he want Damian to return as his heir? Take control over Gotham in the shadow? Upset Bruce? None of them honestly knew what his plan was anymore. Same old song and dance) and having captured them all that he brought up Tim to them. Or rather "shame the Detective is going to be late, but I'm sure his little family shall inform of things once he gets here."
None of them were expecting for Ra's to look away from them and with a snap of his fingers, three assassins brought forth into the room two others. One was being dragged by two assassins, black hair, pale skin, and lean swimmers build of a body. He looked roughly around the age Tim would be. He was placed on the floor right by Ra's boots, arms and legs tied up, clearly but alarmingly breathing low and slow from the raise and fall of their chest. He wore a simple T-shirt but had dark jacket that was covered in stars, NASA logos, and other galaxy themed patches all over it, his dark jeans also held some star patches but also held everyday stains from being outside in the grass and other normal day to day thing. All in all this person seems like a normal civilian individual and none of the Bats knew why Ra's had taken him.
The other assassin that had walked into the room was holding a toddler, a girl from the little pigtails on her messy head indicated. Her hair was just as dark as the passed out male by Ra's and her skin was shade healthier than him. She wore grass stained and messy paints caked overalls with a plan shirt under it and two different kinds of kids shoes (one was a green with dinosaurs and the other blue with little stars). She, unlike the young man on the floor, was awake and was looking around the room while sucking her thumb in clear distress, she also used her free hand that wasn't in her mouth to push the assassin holding onto her away from her as far as she could and was squirming her tiny legs enough to kick their sides. Thankfully the assassin didn't look too hostile or upset meaning she wasn't doing to much damage or being too annoying.
"What a lovely family the Timothy has gained for himself don't you think? I will admit Daniel put up a rather interesting fight, it was only due to us having the element of surprise that we managed to take him down and his little Eleanor has his fighting spirit it seems." Ra's said as he slowly reached over to the toddler to lightly fiddle (just to unnerve them as well) with her hair. However the moment he touched her hair, the little girl's eyes flashed from frosty blue to neon bright green and she had spat her thumb out of her mouth in order to hiss like a cat at him, her little feet kicking hard enough to cause a small 'oomph' from the one holding her.
Ra's gave an amused chuckle as he stared at the toddler in fascination before also casting his gaze down at the passed out young man, remembering the way his eyes also had flashed from blue to green and the amount of power he had saw bubble to the surface when they had ambushed the two in their home. As Ra's said before, if they hadn't had the element of surprise on their side when they went after Timothy's little family it wouldn't had worked. No doubt little Eleanor Drake was a hint of power Daniel Drake held.
Ra's turned to look at the Bats, and could clearly see the emotions on their faces which amused Ra's deeply, and couldn't help but say "Although I wasn't expecting him to marry a being with pure Lazarus blood flowing in their veins. Quite a interesting discovery that was. And that his offspring seemed to carry it also from birth. What lovely and priceless boons he has granted the League to have once he joins us."
Ra's could clearly see the questioning, fear (for the family in his clutches), confusion, and disbelief on the Bats faces and knew it would be so entertaining to watch the little.. family reunion he had set into motion.
He was so amused watching Batman the others he never noticed the light twitch on Daniel's face or the shifting breathing pattern. When he would later check to see of the large amount of tranquilizers they had given Daniel was still in-effect he was none the wiser that it had already wore off and that Danny was merely bidding his time for a opening.
#danny phantom#danny fenton#dp x dc#crossover#blue rambles#writing ideas#random idea#danny phantom dc#dpxdc#Tim and Danny had meet when they were 13 and 14#they meet during Tim's training in Paris when becoming Robin and Danny had wanted some time alone to think after beating his future evilsel#Danny had flown far to clear his head and didnt notice he was in Paris until he ran into Tim and Tim tried talking French to him#they did become friends#because this is during then time Bruce wasnt... ok. Tim wasnt willing to tell him he made a ghosty friend#thus kept Danny his little secret#Danny was the person Tim talked to about everything#well almost. He didnt wanna burden his friend during the time Kon and Bart died or when Batman was thought to be dead too#Danny had felt hurt during that tbh and bit did strain their friendship for a bit but they talked about it.#Danny likes talking to Tim because he gets it#he gets and understands the stress of being a teen hero with so much responsibility#understands the worry and stress that his friends or Jazz dont get#Tim was the one that helped Danny understand that despite his parents loving him. that their work should never ever come first#Eleanor is Danielle btw#she had destabilized a few years ago#and only thanks to CW Frostbite and Tim's help they managed to save what they could of her#meaning she had to be deaged with Tim's human DNA to stabilizes her halfa genes#Tim is not going to be a happy when he storms Ra's little base btw#not at all#and neither is Danny tbh#brain dead
775 notes · View notes
hermajestyimher · 1 year
Text
This Is How We Will Own 2023:
We're less than a month away from the New Year, and as such, it is important that we begin to set the foundations and plans we have to not only succeed, but make 2023 a memorable year.
Regardless of how 2022 went for you, regardless of how many goals you were able to achieve, a new year marks a new beginning. Do not beat yourself over how things went, focus on how you can improve them moving forward.
In 2023 we're:
Spending less time being passive scrollers online. The pandemic is over, the world is back in action and so must we. It's time to stop letting our minds be consumed by the opinions of thousands of people on the internet. More often than not, the things we read online come from the psyche of mentally unwell individuals, and given social media's tendency to prompt out the voices of the most unhinged, it gives people that shouldn't have a platform a false sense of authority. In 2023 we're getting off the grid as much as we can and reconnecting with the real world. We will not allow this online façade to swallow us into its void any longer.
Spending more time learning and engaging in high-end activities and hobbies that can elevate our social circle and our taste. Things like polo matches, pilates, ballet, opera, piano classes, poetry, political forums, martial arts, and high-intensity sports, among other things. It is crucial to cultivate a persona that engages in a variety of fulfilling activities that can bring us joy but also help us grow as individuals.
Prioritizing our health and fitness. No more excuses, it's time to cut down on added sugar and refined carbs, time to eat more nutrient-dense whole foods, drink plenty of water daily, invest in vitamin injections every other month, take supplements to improve our body's collagen production, and overcome feelings of laziness by pushing ourselves through fitness goals. 2023 we will make of the gym our sanctuary.
Living below our budget and investing as much as we can. If you haven't already, get a financial advisor, develop long and short-term financial goals and get organized with your income. It doesn't matter if in the past you've felt like your financial habits have not been the most adequate, it's never too late to take control of them and be responsible. We owe to ourselves to spend wisely to have the peace of mind financial security brings. Never go broke trying to impress others.
We're no longer entertaining inadequate men. I must admit I'm guilty of this myself. After years of not dating, getting back into the dating scene has felt extremely disappointing and tiring. Most prospects are simply not up to par with the standards I have and what I want out of my life partner. Sometimes we allow ourselves to become desperate to build these types of romantic relationships that we begin to overlook the things that we really want deep down. In 2023, we're refocusing our attention on living our best lives and being as active as possible in real-life events as touched upon previously, and trust that the right dating prospects will present themselves when we least expect. We attract, we don't chase.
Finally, we're overcoming negative self-talk patterns that hinder our growth. We're investing in therapy, we're unlearning the limiting beliefs that keep us in bondage to people, routines, and views of the world that are not good for us. We have to put an end to the insidious lie of the scarcity mindset, overcome past traumas, and look forward to the good things that are yet to come.
There are many more things I could add to this list, but for now, these are the things I and I know many of you will find helpful on improving on for the year to come. These lists can come out as intimidating to some people, but we have to remember that we are not expected to become the ideal version of ourselves overnight. Growth is a marathon, not a sprint, and it requires consistency. Each day that you wake up and choose to do one or two things differently you're making stride towards that better you. No improvement is ever too little.
Let's make 2023 a memorable year, and every year afterwards.
Daphne.
Tumblr media
5K notes · View notes
thealtoduck · 3 months
Text
Being the son of Roulette and meeting Damian Wayne…
Tumblr media
Damian Wayne x Male Reader
Warnings: None
Summary: You’re mom is the villainess known as Roulette and she sends you to attend Gotham City High School, where you just so happen to meet the so-called ”Demon’s son”…
(A/n: I know i was supposed to work on other fics but i got distracted…)
——
So how does one go all the way from Las Vegas to Gotham of all places. Well you see having a mom who runs several underground casinos with secret superhero cage fights. Can be a kinda dangerous environment for a person.
So in order to keep you safe she sent you to Gotham to attend school there. She got you a penthouse and signed you up for Gotham City High School.
Once you started attending the school, word got around that you were from an incredibly rich family, with no specifics on where the money actually came from. And since it was Gotham people knew better than to ask.
You befriended several other rich kids enrolled in Gotham City High School… or befriended was a strong word, took advantage off would fit better.
You didn’t make a real friend until Damian…
The two of you wouldn’t meet until you were paired up for an assigntment. As the teacher called out ”Damian Wayne” and ”Y/n Sinclair” as the final paring. You invited him over to your place to work the next day, he accepted and the two of went your seperate ways.
Damian had heard about you around the school, a future heir of an unknown fourtune sounded sketchy to him, so he decided to some digging that night.
Suprisingly he didn’t have to look very hard. After searching for a bit he found a file on the bat-computer for ”Veronica Sinclair” aka ”Roulette”, a woman who owned several illegal casinos all over the U.S, some which even included ”Superhero cage fights” where she kidnapped superheroes and then forced them to fight each other.
Damian grew suspicious of you, Why were you here? Was this a plot of somekind? Were you an agent for your mother? His suspicions followed him to bed and in to the next day.
Damian made sure to pack an extra set of knives along with his textbooks, just in case.
Alfred then drove him to the adress you’d given him. He stopped outside an expensive looking apartment building. Damian said a quick ”Goodbye” to Alfred and went in to the lobby. Nothing too out of the ordinary.
A man in black suit approached him and stated ”Damian Wayne, follow me. Mr Sinclair is waiting for you”. The man guided Damian in to the elevator and pressed the button for the top floor. He was then led in to the hallway where a door waited.
Damian prepared himself for what waited behind, Assasins? Armed guards? Your evil mother? The possibilities were endless.
The man in the black suit unlocked the door and as he entered the inside was beyond anything Damian could’ve imagined…
It was just you… Just you…
You sitting at the dinner table with your study books and notes…
You sitting there looking cute in a Spyro the Dragon t-shirt and loosefitting sweatpants…
Damian didn’t know what he had been expecting but it wasn’t this.
You got up from your seat and went over to him. ”Hey Damian, what’s up?” you greeted cooly. Damian looked around in silence for a second and then answered dryly ”Uhm, I’m alright”. ”Cool, you wanna get to work now or…?”.
”Yeah, let’s get to work” he said awkwardly. The two of you went to the dinner table and Damian started bringing out his notebooks. ”I was just gonna make some coffee, you want some?” you offered.
”So this was his plan” Damian thought to himself. Lure him in to a false sense of security, drug his coffee and then throw him in to one of the illegal cage fights. No way he was falling for it.
”No thanks, i’m fine” Damian answered. ”Checkmate, Sinclair, I know what you’re up to” Damian thought satisfied with his detective skills. ”Okay, I’ll be back in a sec” you said walking towards the kitchen.
Damian took a look around the room, nothing seemed out of place. No loose weapons, secret plans or traces of blood. But then he found something, a giant portrait of your mother, Roulette. The painting was probably hiding some kind of secret vault or hidden elevator to a secret lair.
You came back holding a cup of coffee and a small tray of cookies putting them down on the table. You looked over at Damian seeing him observe the painting of your mother closely. ”Oh yeah, that’s my mom she comissioned a portrait of herself so i wouldn’t ”be lonely” here” you stated coming over to stand next to him.
Damian decided to test the waters of what information he could gather. ”Where is she then if you need a portrait for company?” he asked. ”Probably running one of her cansinos” you said, you weren’t fully aware of what she was doing at the moment and you had other things to worry about at the moment like chemistry and math tests.
The two of you eventually sat down and began your studies. Damian took occasional glances at you while you scribbled something down in your notes. There you sat looking all cute and evil, but Damian wasn’t fooled by your charms and he wasn’t gonna fall for them.
You were probably ready to strike at any moment when he wasn’t 100% alert. He knew your type, all pretty and sexy but as soon as you turn around you get a knife in the back.
Damian played along as if he weren’t on to you, talking pleasantly while you worked on your assigntment together, the leauge of assassins had prepared him well for sirens like you.
Once you finished your work for the day you offered Damian to stay for dinner but he politely declined, he needed to bring his newfound information home before you tried to kill him. He texted Grayson to pick him up.
You followed Damian to the door. ”This was a lot of fun Damian, i hope we can hang out more sometime” you said happily. Damian looked for the right words ”Yeah, me too” he said.
Once he got in to Dick’s car Damian started explaining everything he had found out to his older brother, who listened sceptically. ”I don’t know Damian are you sure he is ”evil” he sounds polite enough for someone raised by Roulette” Dick stated.
”That’s what he wants me to think, Grayson, he’s like a pretty venus flytrap trying to lure you in” Damian said. ”Oh yeah and why do you keep emphasizing that he’s pretty?” Dick asked.
”I DO NOT!” Damian yelled indignantly. ”You’ve called him pretty 7 times during this ride?” Dick noted. Damian ignored him. Thought for a while and then stated ”Grayson, i have a new theory”. ”That you have a crush on him” Dick asked with a smirk.
”Of course not, no! I don’t think he knows about me as Robin yet, which means if i hang around him, i can use him to gain inside information on his mother’s crimes” Damian plotted out loud.
”Are you sure you’re not just looking for a reason to be around him more?” Dick questioned. ”I- No! Don’t say stupid things Grayson…” Damian scolded. He was gonna find out what your pretty and definetely evil self was up to, no matter the cost.
512 notes · View notes
buckrecs · 1 year
Note
could you rec some protective Bucky fics/oneshots?
Protective Bucky
masterlist | req masterlist
Tumblr media
Purgatory by @wkemeup
While on a mission, Bucky becomes dissociated into the Winter Soldier. But instead of becoming a threat, his instinct is to protect.
Behind the Storm by @wkemeup
On a mission, you're hit with a spell that takes away your ability to see. Bucky does what he can to make you feel safe.
stairs by @lovelybarnes
overprotective!bucky at its finest.
Savior by @buckysgoldenheart
Basically, Bucky saves you and then stalks you.
vodka on rocks by @kinanabinks
when you find out that someone you slept with secretly took photos and videos of you during sex, you feel betrayed - but bucky won't stand by and let that happen to his best friend.
more than safe by @witchywithwhiskey
when you're injured on a mission in sokovia, bucky barnes comes to help—and you share a soft moment together.
Dark Divine by @sebbytrash
Bucky and you are in a relationship and when you get hurt during a mission, he seeks comfort the only way he knows how. Revenge.
seeing red by @buckysfaveplum
bucky can’t just sit and watch as a man makes you uncomfortable in a bar.
Divine Retribution by @pellucid-constellations
Nobody touches Bucky’s girl. He was going to make that very clear.
Counting by @pellucid-constellations
Time heals all wounds. Bucky’d been holding onto that proverb ever since blip. But time had never been particularly kind to him, so he opted to keep track of the sweet girl’s in his apartment building instead, the one that made him banana bread and took him to diners at two in the morning. Sometimes, you didn’t keep the same schedule. That made Bucky panic.
Expectations by @softlyspector
Bucky is overprotective of the reader, who is pregnant with his baby.
Gentle by @invisibleanonymousmonsters
Y/N has never seen Bucky be anything but gentle and loving. It’s hard for her to believe her boyfriend was ever the world’s deadliest and most lethal assassin.
Safe by @coffeecatsandcandles
You become a stripper during the blip. When Bucky comes back, he has a lot of thoughts about it.
How’s Your Head by @bucky-bucky-bucky-bucky
A run in with a less than kind stranger on the Subway send a knight in shining armor your way.
What Could Go Wrong? by @bucky-bucky-bucky-bucky
A SWORD function at the compound has Bucky feeling uneasy. He can’t seem to stop himself from checking up on you, but you swear to him that you’re not in danger- you’re wrong.
Nothing Fucks With My Baby by @bucky-bucky-bucky-bucky
Bucky shows up late to a Shield party and finds out that a new agent made you uncomfortable. He takes care of it.
False Reality by @bucky-bucky-bucky-bucky
Running into an unpleasant person from your past sends you into a shame spiral. Bucky gets you home and takes care of you- reminding you of your worth.
knight in shining armor by @b6cky
when a valentines date from hell makes y/n rethink all her life choices, a knight in shining armour is there to save her. or a knight with a shining metal arm.
Imagine | 2 by @im-an-octopus
40s!Protective Bucky + protective Bucky post Winter Soldier
The Protective Soldier by @dabblinginmarvel
Bucky met the Avengers and is atracted to the reader and protective over her.
protective by @onceuponastory
Bucky gets protective over Y/N during a mission.
Her by @avecra
When Bucky's anger gets the best of him during a debriefing meeting, your touch is the one thing that can ground him.
Tumblr media
2K notes · View notes
jymwahuwu · 7 months
Note
I have an idea. A self-aware au. What if Jing yuan/Blade is aware of darling's affection for him since they would log in the game and just see him and just admire them that is until Genshin drops 4.1 trailer and saw Arlecchino and Neuvillette and now they're envious of these two taking away their darling's attention.
It's just an interesting idea tho. But in actuality I'd think neuvillette and him would be friends or somewhat
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Hello, this anon has similar thoughts!! Put them together to answer >_< I think they will be really jealous of the genshin impact characters who are stealing your attention lol. Jing Yuan's jealousy is more harmless (seemingly), while Blade's is more aggressive (?)
This is my first time writing a self-aware AU, hope you like it!!
CW: yandere, self-aware au
Jing Yuan and Blade have their own lives.
When you're not with them, when you're not in front of the screen or looking at them with a smile or wonder. They are handling the work/tasks of the Seat of Divine Foresight/Stellaron Hunters. Blade, Silver Wolf and Kafka were practicing the new "destiny" script and took away another Stellaron. Jing Yuan is managing Luofu and attending meetings. How strange. Once you click on the space screen to enter the game, they can see your face. You organize your team and do daily tasks with them.
At first, they thought it was some kind of prank or a conspiracy, but over time they got used to it. In Elio's words, "The world is like a video game. No one can prove whether the world is real or false. Feeling the current destiny is the most important thing."
For Jing Yuan, he just got familiar with your personality. He confirmed that your presence would not put Luofu in danger, and that you acted like a cute kitten playing with a ball of yarn. You can control Luofu's General and Stellaron Hunter, and all you do is wander around Xianzhou and buy snacks to feed them, break every poor object on the way, fight to get some rewards, take the books on the table, etc.
You didn't forget to "build" them either. They watch you search for "Jing Yuan", "Blade", "build", "guide" and other keywords on the Internet, and take them to fight again and again to get materials to upgrade. Although they have actually participated in some wars and have terrible strength, what you see here is "lv 1-80".
You really like them, otherwise you wouldn’t pull, right? You even take photos of them while wandering around the map. Jing Yuan snickered when you took Blade to take a selfie in front of his wanted poster. The general is not shy about giving you a smile either. They know your admiration because you always take more than one photo.
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Until… recently, they noticed that you weren't online as often. At one point, you log in again, and then, as if you thought of something important, you search "genshin impact" on Youtube (they know the name of the site) and start watching trailers and special programs.
What's this?
You stared intently at those…those people. White curly bangs, long hair like a waterfall, and his gorgeous and decent attire. The other man has short black hair. He punches enemies in live. A woman with short gray and white hair smiles confidently.
Jing Yuan opened his eyes wide, not expecting you to be so "frivolous" - did you plan to be unfaithful to him? You found Jing Yuan pouting at you in the game, but you thought you were hallucinating, so you gave him immortal's delight and puffergoat milk to comfort him. Blade clicked his tongue, crossed his arms in boredom, and stopped observing what you were doing on the other side of the screen. Silver Wolf and Kafka teased him about whether he was separated from the little player? Jealous? You're surprised to notice that his damage has been doubled. While on a mission, Blade almost lost control and killed a person on the script. His eyes as red as candlelight flashed, and he almost swung down the sword in his hand.
They are all looking for opportunities to get close to you. That part of Xianzhou's large computer installation called "loom" is running, investigating and analyzing you.
778 notes · View notes
fusaes · 11 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
𝐃𝐀𝐑𝐊 𝐑𝐄𝐃 - ft. miles morales
🀄、pairings: miles morales x reader warnings: mentions of paranoia, death, mentions of blood, slightly angsty, fluff at the end, slow burn, legit doesn't make total sense, not proofread, lyric references, venom, profanities, kissing (nothing smutty), mentions of gwen and hobie, poor spanish (blame duolingo...), with translations, no actual current plot of atsv, own plot, might not make sense if you didn't watch the movie, mutants, giants, mentions of skinned bodies, false accusations, arguments, a lot more within these lines, peter being a bad mentor, involves miguel, margo, peter. w/c: 4,297 notes; i really did not expect this to be long ... but yeah! this might not make sense and there might be whole lotta ooc BUT THIS IS MY PLOT I DO WHAT I WANT RAHHHH 🤣🤣🔥🔥 anyways i didn't know what i went with the storyline but there are a lot of depressing moments here ... i hope y'all are ok btw .. okay bye ily
Tumblr media Tumblr media
'SOMETHING BAD IS 'BOUT TO HAPPEN TO ME' You thought. Your paranoia didn't help you sleep at night, the empty feeling of always being secluded from the world. Your dimension didn't have any Spider-people, and in contrast to Miles's dimension; it was harder to pick yourself up and fight for the city.
The feeling of cold sheets wrapping around your limbs, the fabric only bringing you more comfort. His smell lingered on your pillows, his jacket hanging on the back of your door. You didn't wanna leave Miles. The banging headache raised when you cried for the rest of the night, tears flowing down your cheek.
This might be pathetic, sure. But you weren't happy with the world you were born into. You missed the vibrant city of Miles's dimension, the moments you spent together to train him to become the best Spiderman of the century. You could only laugh at that thought.
Your eyes are glued onto your ceiling, the empty white color reflecting your current mind. Hell, if you could go back; you would. Your eyes close heavily, and the feeling of your hot eyelids resting on your eyes.
'I DON'T KNOW IT BUT I FEEL IT COMING.' The returning feeling of being helpless, a deep voice circulating in your mind. As much as you didn't wanna admit it, you were fragile. The Spider that bit you wasn't as ordinary as you thought. That goes without saying; Miles got bit by an unordinary spider, too. But something about that insect made it a little more special than other Spider origins.
The Spider actually talked to you. Its venom projects into your blood cells, infesting your mind and body. ''The city needs you, the city needs you, the city needs you, the city needs-'' If you could spray bug repellent inside of your head, you would've done it already. The echoing voice inside of your brain didn't subside even after you've covered your ears with pillows.
You were restless. Your spider suit resting on your chair. The radio your dad previously had woken you from your slumber, the screams and sounds of innocent people screaming, a cop reporting for backup.
''This is Agent- Shit! Get away- We need backup, now! Call for the nearest-'' The voice cuts off, only leaving you with the sound of a broken stereo. Out of instinct, your webs sling the radio to your hands, turning some of the knobs to get more surface of the situation.
Nothing comes out, the last person who reported to the station was that 'Agent'. You hop out of bed, took the suit, and quickly put it on. You contemplated for a while, but the sudden shiver of guilt only awoken the voice that whispered in your ear. ''The city needs you, the city needs you, the city needs you, the city needs you.''
The sounds of police car's sirens echoed in the street, a building being griefed by an explosion. Big claws and bloodied cement was the scenery when you arrived. You heard a lady scream in an alleyway, and all of the police cars emptied out of people. No cop was left alive, they were all skinned out of their bodies.
''G-Get away from me!'' The lady's voice stung your Spider-sense, the sound of big feet stepping towards the lady. You were on the walls, peeking at the villain. It had a broad back, spikes decorating its spine, and green and vibrant reptile skin. You land on the floor, attaching your webs to the spikes of its back. ''You heard the lady.''
Your webs were strong enough to pull the reptile back, jumping high to let it sling behind you. A loud thud could be heard miles away, the cement of the building cracking from the giant's impact. You approach the lady, putting two hands up. ''Are you okay?''
The lady's eyes widened while looking behind you, your spider sense didn't detect the big chunk of cement that was coming your way. Your hands almost act instinctively, grabbing ahold of the cement before it crushed the two of you.
Your webs threw the brick back, crumbling on the body of the reptile. ''You should run.'' you flash a small smile of assurance to the lady, webbing the two buildings to get closer to the villain. Your eyes catch a small glimpse of a black and red suited person in the sky, spider sense tingling at the sight. Your head turns to the building where it landed, getting distracted from what was in front of you.
''Move!'' A voice echoes from the roof of the building, your head quickly turns back to the lizard, his hands almost grabbing a hold of you. A sudden bolt of lightning almost blinded you, causing your eyes to close at the brightness.
A huge hole in the sky opens, the edges of it being coated with pink, purple, and hints of green. It looked like it glitched into the sky, with strings of what looked like webs inside of it. Miles had already electrocuted the lizard for a short time, as he approached you.
''Y/N! I'm here!'' His hands wrap around your torso, feeling your warmth over your suit. ''Miles?'' Your hands wrap around his neck, pulling him into a hug. ''H-how are you here? What the fuck is that?'' You ask of the hole in the sky, some of the cars and poles flying inside of it.
''Listen, we need to go.'' His hands grab yours, webbing to the closet rooftop. ''No... No! I need to see my aunt-'' Your eyes widen, his hands pulling you into the black hole. Your argument with your aunt didn't lull even after the 'talk' you both had.
''¡Dios mío, Y/N! Te lo dije una vez, dos veces, trice! Y no nos escuchaste ni a mí ni a tu mamá!'' (Oh my gosh, Y/N! I told you once, twice, thrice! And you didn't listen to me or your mom!) Your hands slam the door on your aunt, refusing to continue this talk with your aunt. You had just lost your dad, you couldn't save him from that stupid mutant that appeared right in your dad's station house. Your dad's friends whom you even considered your own; dead before your eyes, bodies laying and pierced in her stomachs. ''Do not slam that door on me, we are not done!'' Your aunt opens your door with pressure, her words poisoning the whole room. ''Tía, yo también te lo dije un millón de veces!'' (Aunt, I told you a million times too!) It wasn't your fault. It wasn't your fault that your dad still wanted to be the hero even when he can't. It was his fault. ''¿Cuántas veces tengo que decir esto? You can't be meddling in the policía's jobs! You killed your-'' (How many times do I have to say this?) ''Get out!'' Your webs shut your door with force, webbing the door handle closed. ''No entiendes, tía, I didn't kill Papa!'' (You don't understand, Aunt) ''You just don't understand, Y/N! Your mom is crying, the whole police is after you! They think you murdered your father! You need to stop, Y/N. You are not the 'hero' of this city!'' Your auntie bangs on your door, but your hands remain on your ears, cuddled up to your pillow.
It 'MIGHT BE SO SAD, MIGHT LEAVE MY NOSE RUNNING.' You couldn't leave your auntie, and your mom didn't stop crying, she stopped coming to her job and didn't speak to anyone else.
'I JUST HOPE SHE DON'T WANNA LEAVE ME.' Those words ring inside of Miles's head, he had already fought his battle with Miguel just to see you again, and he was willing to go through it all over again.
''Listen, your aunt will be fine! You'll be safe there!'' Miles tries to pull you in, and you let him. You take his words and put them inside of your heart. The feeling of being airborne in the galaxy takes over your senses, a huge tube leading you both into another portal. Your hands tremble inside Miles's grasp.
You both land in an elevator, a platform bringing you to up top.
His thumb rubs your skin, hoping to have calmed you down. You both fall into an elevator, Miles's hands still intertwined with yours. ''I should probably explain, huh?'' You didn't respond, your mind almost wandering away staring at the wall. ''Y/N?'' When the warmth of Mile's skin leaves yours, your head turns to him.
''Did you say something?'' ''Yeah... Did you listen?'' ''No... Sorry, could you repeat that?'' You hear Miles sigh, his hands knotted with each other to his chest. ''Well, Miguel wanted me to pick you up... Kinda.'' Your head tilts a little, and a tinge of unsureness laced Miles's words. ''Kinda?'' You ask, almost surveying him. ''Well I did kinda sneak out and asked Margo to take me to your dimension but that's not the important part!''
Miles raises his hands as if it were for defense and you laugh. ''You're so stupid.'' You nudge his shoulder. ''Why'd you take me here-'' You feel almost a big punch in your stomach as if you'd glitched out in a game. ''Woah!'' Miles panicked, rummaging through his pockets. You were surprised he had put pockets in his suit. Maybe you have to do that, sometime.
''I forgot to give you this.'' He takes your hand before you glitch out again and put on the bracelet on your wrist. Nausea stopped, feeling a little bit better from the piece of silicone around your skin. You laugh a little, seeing Miles's panicked expression even from over his mask. You took off your own mask, breathing in some air. ''So.. Why'd you take me here?''
Miles took off his, too. ''Well, I missed you, of course.'' A window appears behind you both, the land seemingly upside down. ''Woah...'' ''We're in Nueva York.'' The door opens, and Miles captures your hands in his, leading you to the upside-down hallways.
''T-there's so many...'' You didn't expect almost a hundred- maybe more Spider-people. All of them were different, some were on wheelchairs, some were riding horses, and some were incubated in a yellow-orange barrier.
After what seemed like a million light-years, you both reached a dark part of the building, a girl who seemed like she was purple waved at you two and started working back on her computer.
''Miles Morales.'' A dark voice grew out of the dark, a floating platform lowering from the sky. ''Miguel, we're back.'' ''Another outsider.'' Miguel turned to face you both, the man looked like he hadn't slept in years. You frown at his comment, he didn't know who you were.
''Miguel O'Hara, this is Y/N L/N.''
An infant webbed around the room and caught you three off-guard. ''Mayday! Good job Honey!'' A man with a baby carrier enters the room, phone pointed at the child. Mayday, cute name. You smile at the sight of a cute baby webbing freely, she'll be a good Spiderwoman when she grows up. ''Miles! I haven't seen you in so long!'' The man put his phone back in his pocket, putting two of his hands on your shoulders.
''Peter!'' ''Miles! Hey, bud! Who's this?'' Peter smiles at you, and you give him another smile back. ''I'm Y/N.'' You shook his hand, and he immediately pulled away to catch Mayday. She was climbing on Miguel, a funny sight to see. You didn't fail to see how Miguel was so... Muscular. His webs looked different, it looked like it glowed with a orange light.
You knew to not fuck with him, especially when he was the only one in the room who didn't wear a bracelet to keep him from not glitching out. ''Y/N L/N. You must know what kind of place this is, I assume?'' Miguel says, capturing Mayday in his hands. Miles looked at you, slight panic arising in his eyes.
''Uhm, I brought her here. She can help me, Hobie, and Gwen-'' ''There are enough problems that I have to deal with. Put her back, Morales.'' You didn't know who Hobie or Gwen was, but Miles mentioned that they went on missions together. That Miguel had a foul mouth, for sure.
''You've caused enough shit, Morales! The start of the spot, breaking a canon event, and even rebelling against my rules!'' Miguel webbed down to the floor and threw a bomb on the floor. Once it hit your foot, it opened up a dome.
''What the fuck-'' You try banging on the walls, the sounds outside almost being muffled from the inside. ''Miles!'' ''Enough is enough, Morales. I guess I'll have to send you both back then.'' You see Miles trying to bargain with Miguel, but Peter interrupts. ''Miguel, loosen up pal. Let them experience their puppy love in the HQ, gosh they're so cute together-'' Miguel shoots a web to Peter's mouth and put him in a dome as well.
'DON'T YOU GIVE ME UP, PLEASE DON'T GIVE UP.' These words fill your mind, still trying to get out of the barrier. Your words couldn't reach Miles as he backed up beside you, his hands on the dome. ''Miguel, for someone who's the so-called 'master' of HQ, you really don't know how to stop making the same mistake all over again.''
Miles shatters the projected dome and takes your hand to escape out of the HQ. Peter waves at you both as a goodbye, seemingly proud of Miles for what he did. ''You're a bad mentor,'' Miguel says, chasing you both. The dome fades away, and Peter takes off the web on his mouth. Peter grabs Mayday's pacifier and put it in her mouth. ''Let's go, honey!'' Peter chasing you both.
''If I would've known we'd be running from a Headmaster of an HQ full of Spider-people, I would've come prepared, Miles.'' You two web from wall to wall, knocking some people over and leaving them with a short 'sorry'.
''It's not like- Woah-! I planned this to happen!'' You laugh at his words, keeping up with his pace. ''You can't let me leave you in the dust, Miles!'' You pass Miles, but he quickly catches up. ''I won't!'' He grabs your hand and slings you on his back, sticking onto him like a koala. You both giggle a bit while making your way to Margo. ''I missed you... I missed... Us.''
You rest your head on Miles's shoulder. ''What you said earlier... Who's Hobie and Gwen?'' ''Some friends of mine.'' You smile, kissing his cheek. ''Gwen, huh?'' Miles laughs at the pout that he felt on his skin, ''HONEY, I BELONG WITH YOU AND ONLY YOU, BABE.'' Miles's words made you smile as you both land in Margo's office, seeing her work away on her computer.
''Miles. What did you do now?'' Margo didn't look back, she already knew what you both wanted. ''Send us back to my world,'' Miles says, but your eyes almost want to disagree with him. Miles notices the slight worry in your eyes, he only captures your hands in response.
You knew you'd always wanted to go to Mile's dimension and spend time with him and Mrs. Morales. ''Alright. But I can't guarantee you'll be able to go back to HQ in one piece.'' Margo stated, her spider was already ready for you both.
''Miles, why are you doing this to yourself?'' Margo asks, as you both hop on the platform, hands still in his. ''I JUST DON'T WANT HER TO LEAVE ME.'' Margo only rolls her eyes with a smile and started her machine. The spider started knitting a cocoon around you two, and your hands tighten in nervousness.
''It'll be okay. As long as you have that bracelet, we can live together forever, happily.'' Miles reassures you, tucking hair behind your ear. Miles snakes a hand around your waist and pulls you in for a kiss once the spider finished webbing.
Miguel and Peter could only stare at you both, Peter looking like he was lovestruck. Peter's hands rest on Mayday's eyes while Miguel only rubs his temples. ''Oi! No lovey-dovey in the machine!'' Margo teases before it teleports you both.
A FEW MONTHS AFTER ...
''Miles, Y/N! Dinner!'' ''Innaminute!'' Miles screams out while you two were playing on a PS4 in the living room. Lieutenant Morales watched you two, occasionally taking photos of you both. ''That's unfair!'' You laugh at Mile's whining when you threw a banana on the road, causing his character to slip.
''See 'ya! Eat my dust!'' Miles bit his lip in concentration, leaning his body on where his character would go, bumping into each other. ''Dinner is getting cold, you three!'' Mrs. Morales approaches you three in the living room, catching her husband taking a video of you two playing games.
Her head rests on his shoulder, smiling at the view. ''Amor de cachorro, eh?''(Puppy love, huh?) Mr. Morales laughs and kisses his own wife once you two finally finished the game. You jump in celebration, laughing at Miles's frown. ''I won! I thought you were the best of this game-'' Miles grabs your hand and pulls you into his lap, kissing your lips.
Once Miles's parents finished smooching Mr. Morales interrupts you both. ''Oi! No kissing in the house!'' You smile on Miles's lips before pulling away from his lap. ''I'm hungry.'' ''Let's go eat?'' ''Race 'ya there!'' ''No fair!'' ''Don't run in the house!''
Because in the day, you both are just teenagers attending school, but at night you both have duties to save the city.
Tumblr media Tumblr media
woahwoah this was so long ... ‧₊˚ ⋅ fusaes 2023 do not copy
699 notes · View notes
mesywelch · 4 months
Text
Don't Cry, Baby | College AU | Chapter 1
Tumblr media
Paring: Rafe Cameron X Reader
Summary: Growing up in a sheltered family, safe and secure amongst people you could trust was, according to you, heaven, despite how some tend to doubt its consequences. But you did not expect your safe bubble to pop so suddenly when you entered college - the atmosphere so dazzlingly stark, that it was proving to be a difficult challenge to navigate around. Especially when one of the students gets painfully curious about the new girl.
Warnings: Talks about sex, swearing, drugs, possible smut.
*ੈ✩‧₊˚ˏˋ°•*⁀➷
"So you've never had sex." 
My jaw hung open at his bluntness, eyes gauging him from my position on the rough bed as I looked up at his tall frame. I quickly shook away my telling expression, however, loosening the grip on my ankles; the surprise I felt was immense but Rafe didn't have to know that. 
How the conversation slid its way onto the topic of sex wasn't clear to me. I suppose Rafe was the first to impose the subject, something about Kelce and his new girlfriend, but then the questions were being thrown at me, while I unsuspectingly debated which outfit to wear, my limited selection sprawled across my bed. 
My attempts to answer them euphemistically, I had to admit, were a bit suspicious, and it was no time before Rafe began to catch on to the implications of my tone. Now that the truth was out in the open, something shifted in his eyes, and his speech transformed entirely. I had only known Rafe for a few days, having met him in the hallway of our dorms, but he was never so daring in our increasingly longer interactions, nor so friendly like he was and continued to be in our current one. 
I certainly did not expect us to get close enough to talk about sex (something I had only shyly whispered about with girl friends in high school) but everything in this new college environment was taking me aback—especially their…. openness, I guess, was the appropriate word. I was also familiar with their weird fascination with virgins, which is why…..
Shrugging in false casualty, I squeaked out uneasily, "Yes." 
Rafe paced up and down my humble room, his body comically large in its small confines, and looked at me with narrowed eyes, hand running through his blonde hair that shone alluringly under the window's sunlight. Even though he tried his hardest not to show it, behind his look of suspicion, I could sense a whole lot of amusement. And the smirk gracing his lips when I interrupted his attempt to speak just made it plain obvious.  
"You promised." I warned, referring to his words that assured me of no mockery after I answered his question, or rather, observation. 
"I wasn't gonna tease." 
I scoffed, disbelieving. "You were!" 
"No, actually. I was simply going to ask," He paused, building up the tension that only I was feeling, as he walked closer to where I sat on the bed. With a mischievous grin, he continued, "if you'd ever watched porn." 
"Why are we having this conversation again?" I groaned, falling back on the bed. The evening was visibly disappearing behind the window, and instead of heading out for a friend's birthday party, as we were supposed to, I was stuck in my dorm with Rafe for some reason. I didn't even remember why he was in here in the first place instead of getting ready too. Just a comment about how he 'didn't need to'.  
"Answer the question." 
"Can't we do this after Ruby's party?" My words came out whiny and childish, and I mentally slapped myself for acting like this in front of a practical stranger and so hurriedly sat up straight. Ruby was another friend I made, our meeting occurring at the end of my first ever lecture. Approaching me with a dazzling smile, she was sensitive enough to my anxiety and bought me a cup of coffee, in her own words, as a peace treaty. A few days later, an e-invite to her birthday was sitting in my unread messages. Gazing at Rafe's uncharacteristically curious face, I was reminded of something he had said earlier when I asked him for a ride to the party to which he apparently was also invited. "Weren't you gonna ask her out?" 
"What?" 
"Ruby. You said you were gonna ask her out." I quickly checked the clock on my bedside table for the time and hustled out of bed with a gasp, mind half on settling with a dress choice and half on the memory of Rafe leaning against his doorframe a few hours ago, chest puffed out, and voice breezy as he announced his intentions to woo Ruby. It felt odd in the moment but then led to an uncomfortable train of thought that if Rafe, who had been established as The Man on campus by everyone I talked to, was interested in Ruby, then she must have been The Woman of the campus. The queen bee, if you will. The uncomfortable factor lent itself to my ultimate insignificance in the grand scheme of things, but that was a heavy topic to uncover. 
Rafe remained silent for a bit, seemingly just as contemplative as I was, blankly watching me run around the room as I struggled to assemble a pretty outfit. I was confused about how Rafe, a guy who always looks like he has somewhere more important to be, could stand so stubbornly in my dorm, of all things. There was something off about that image. 
I heard him draw a sharp breath before repeating, "Have you or have you not watched porn?" 
Baffled at his ignorance, I gave him the harshest look I could muster, but it ended up infused with hesitance. His lips curled into that familiar, teasing smirk he had begun to give me these days when I passed him on my way to lectures, saw him at restaurants, or, most commonly, bumped into him in the dormitory hallways. My friendly wave was only ever reciprocated through a smirk or a grin, his friends chuckling mockingly at my small display. But none was as cunning as it was today, as he eagerly dug to learn more intimate details about my life.  
"Rafe, seriously, Is-it-really-that-big-of-a-deal-if-I-haven't? And can you stop pacing? It's making me anxious..."
He did stop, but I didn't think it was because I said so.  
"No… fucking way. Are you kidding?" 
"See, this is why I don't say this sort of stuff! Because you- all of you react like this!" Having been done with this interaction, I walked over to the attached bathroom, a random blue outfit in my hands.  
Behind me, I could still sense Rafe drenched in confusion. I turned on the bedside lamp. 
"But…. why?" 
"'Why' what?" 
"You haven't fucked anyone, you haven't watched porn, and you flinch at the topic of it as if it physically fucking hurts you…. You're not a prude, are you?" He spit the word like it was poison, and my head snapped to him, feeling a rush of offence flow through me, even though the label might have been accurate. I did not appreciate the connotations it held. "I don't think I've ever heard you swear either." 
Overwhelmed at his examination, my breathing quickened. Why did he say all of it like it was a bad thing? Was it a bad thing? 
My eyes unconsciously trained onto Rafe's lips when he stepped forward; they were a striking shade of pink, complementary to his blue eyes, as they moved, forming condescending strings of words that went through one ear and out the other. I couldn't get myself to focus when put under his bright flashlight, and I began to wonder if this was really how friends spoke to each other in this place. 
"Get out." 
He looked pleasantly surprised at the authority in my tone. To be honest, I was surprised too. "You're telling me to 'get out'?" 
Sparing him an apprehensive glance, I repeated. "G-get out." 
When silence followed, I thought he'd finally listen to me for the first time in his life. But then a hand placed itself on my bare shoulder, and I shuddered, attempting to shrug it off immediately. He didn't budge, firmly digging his fingers into my skin as he looked down on me. I persisted in my struggle to escape his grasp. 
"Stop moving. Why are you acting like a brat all of a sudden, hm?" 
I slowly tilted my head to look at him, my short-lived resolve crumbling at the intensity of his close proximity and eyes embarrassingly growing moist at his comments. Thankfully, Rafe didn't notice. 
"I-i'm not." 
Under the dim lighting, he reached behind me with his long arm towards the bed, the collar of his polo shirt brushing against my skin. I was practically trapped between him and the bed and looked sideways at the window instead, trying to control my discomfort. When he returned from his excursion, I saw him fingering the fabric of a white dress I purposefully chose to ignore earlier—the material a little too sheer for my liking, a little too thin. But it seemed to have caught Rafe's attention because he pushed it into my chest and snatched away the one in my hands. 
"Wear that one and meet me downstairs." 
"...I don't want to wear it, though." 
"Did I ask?" He said, annoyed, waving his arm at my small room, my mess of an outfit, my behaviour. When he put distance between us by taking two large backward steps, I thought he was finally leaving. And he did. For a second. Before I could wipe my glistening eyes, Rafe popped his head back through the door. "Also, a 19 year old who hasn't watched porn is rare as fuck." He nodded as if telling a universal truth. "Sure, there are plenty of virgins on campus, but no porn?" He whistled mockingly, and I wished he left me alone already, biting back words that I knew would worsen the situation. "That's a whole new league. Consider yourself lucky you've told me first, ‘cause people are gonna mess with you." 
"And you aren't?" 
Rafe chuckled, but I continued.
"...Sex—" I looked away, feeling the need to defend myself. "Sex is… scary, okay?" 
Rafe couldn't have looked more amused. 
"What did you just say?" He re-entered the room, pushing fallen strands of his hair back into its slick style, and I sighed. I just drew him back in.  
"Forget it." 
"Aw," He laughed boisterously, and I shook, startled at the low edge to his chuckles. He was enjoying this (?). "Does the idea of a good fuck scare you? Such a poor little girl…" 
I was mortified. How was this the same person I was talking to a couple hours ago? "Stop it." 
"Have you ever even seen a cock in your life?" His palm slid down to his shorts, and assuming—quite understandably, I would think—that it was to demonstrate his question, I covered my eyes with my palms, letting out a flustered 'Ah!'. 
"Oh my fucking god."
If I thought he was chuckling earlier, he was dying of laughter when I opened my eyes—hand clutching his stomach and everything. It turns out he was merely adjusting his shorts, but he didn't bother clarifying the unsaid question, preferring the alternative. It was infuriating. But I didn't understand how to let him know that when my very existence seemed to have become a piece of entertainment to him. 
"Okay, I've had enough of you." The sun was falling lower and lower out the window, the room darker and darker; I was clearly going to be late to the party and lose one of the only kind people I had met here— all because of Rafe- a name that was starting to sound more rough in my head, the 'r' more sinister. "Just get out of here and take me to the goddamn party. Or I'll just ask someone else." 
"Whoa, calm down baby." He replied, only barely recovering from his fit. 
"Don't talk like that." 
"Like what? Call you 'baby'? Do you prefer 'princess'? Little baby princess that can't handle a little dick-talk?" Rafe grinned wolfishly. "And who are you gonna ask anyway? You're not exactly flooded with options. Ruby is at the party, that small girl- what's her name- Maria something, I bet she isn't even invited— and oh my god, I'd rather kill myself than let you ask that new friend of yours. Heyward."  
His detailed knowledge of my only acquaintances was disturbing, but that feeling was suppressed by the fact that he was right. I didn't even have Pope's number. God, this man had just dropped too many things at once, and I needed to get myself alone if I wanted to form a single sensible thought. Not knowing what else to do, I decided to follow an impulse for the first time, a bold one too. 
I, uh, pushed Rafe out of my room and slammed the door in his face. 
"Hey!" He banged his fist on the wood. 
I said nothing. 
"....Be down in two. I'm gonna leave you here if you're any later!" I wanted to scream in his face that he was the reason why we were late, but I remained silent. "bitch." 
I knew he was only saying it to rile me up, but nevertheless, I wiped the tear that threatened to roll down my cheek, undressing to put on the dress Rafe chose. It was my sister's, one that she threw in my luggage as a joke. A mockery of what could be because she knew I would never wear it. 
I traced the shimmering jewels on its surface and scoffed. When I exited the room and locked it, I thought of my sister's disbelief if she was here, watching me walk out into public, uncomfortable in white.  
I quickly hurried down the staircase but stopped in my tracks when I saw Rafe conversing with a small portion of his usually massive friend group, the rest having already left for the party. 
Rafe hadn't changed except for a cap resting backwards on his head. Beside him, I recognised Topper and Kelce, but there were a few other guys that looked unfamiliar. A couple of girls huddled by him too, dressed in cute outfits, lips covered in pretty lip gloss, and hair done perfectly. 
Jealousy was a feeling I had harboured way too much during high school and I had vowed to quit that habit in college but as I walked towards Rafe, face slightly ducked down, I was ashamed that jealous was exactly what I was, insecure about my ill-fitting clothes, my highly fluctuating emotional state. Something that was sure to be a bother to everyone around me, if it bothered Rafe. 
It was perhaps stupid of me that I was still allowing said man to take me to the party despite his invasive behaviour from earlier, but it would be worse if I took back my request, surely sounding like an absolute coward who couldn't handle a little intensity. And this place was all about intensity, excess. 
When I reached the crowd, a silence fell over the atmosphere, and I cringed. Rafe glanced at me fleetingly before sharing loud, obnoxious goodbyes with his friends, who were subjecting him to questioning looks regarding my presence. But I hadn't noticed his second glance, which stayed on me comparatively longer. 
"C'mon, baby." 
Not wanting to embarrass myself further, I didn't reprimand him for his choice of nickname and hopped into his massive truck standing still under the young night.  Chapter 2
*ੈ✩‧₊˚ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ A/N: Editing this mess made me realise that I am an overthinker to such a degree that its seeping into every character I write. LIKE THIS WOMAN IS SWITCHING THOUGHTS EVERY TWO SECONDS. Anyways, do comment your thoughts! And any direction you would like this series to go (cuz i dont have a plan YIKES).
238 notes · View notes
Text
╔══•.·.☆.·.♥︎.·.☆.·.•══╗
what a woman enjoys
╚══•.·.☆.·.♥︎.·.☆.·.•══╝
ʚ Naoya Zen'in x Fem Reader ɞ
───────────────
❥Summary: You are in an arranged marriage with Naoya Zen'in. He's never cared about your pleasure before, but one argument leaves him wondering what you enjoy in bed. He decides to find out what the answer is.
❥Word Count: 1.7k
❥CW: fem reader (reader has a vagina, referred to as "wife" and "girl"), smut, fem masturbation, penetration, creampie, voyeurism, possible dubcon since reader doesn't choose to be married to Naoya
────── ♡ ──────
"So this is what my little wife enjoys, huh?"
You swallowed thickly, fingers still rubbing incessantly on your clit. You were too nervous to look at him, choosing instead to keep your eyes squeezed shut.
"I asked you a question, and I expect an answer."
"Y-Yes! I… I like this…" you replied hesitantly, beyond embarrassed by your current predicament. You were bare naked on your shared bed, Naoya sitting in a chair at the foot of the bed while you sat in the center. You were spread eagle, allowing Naoya to watch you play with yourself, doing just what he demanded.
You wish you knew exactly what had caused this situation. You had heard some gossip from the maids about a conversation (or, rather, an argument) between Naoya and his cousin, Jinichi. Apparently, Jinichi had taken a woman to bed, and she was being so loud that Naoya had heard her when he got up in the middle of the night. Word has it that Naoya teased his cousin for "inviting a macaque" into his bed, and Jinichi replied by accusing Naoya of not recognizing a woman's screams of pleasure. This led to Jinichi accusing Naoya of not knowing how to please a woman at all, which of course led to a sparring match between the two that was less than lighthearted. The entire exchange was quite scandalous to the ladies who worked at the Zen'in estate, and they were chattering about it all afternoon.
You could only assume that your husband's pride had been severely wounded by the entire altercation. There was no other plausible explanation for why he would've stomped around the estate all evening up until you prepared for bed, no other reason for why he would've ordered you to strip naked and show him "what you enjoy in bed."
None of this was for you—you knew that—but you couldn't ignore the pleasure that was building in your core. You could feel your fingers begin to cramp up from how frantically they toyed with your clit. You were panting softly, trying not to make too much noise in your silent bedroom, fearing that your voice would travel through the thin fusuma. The last thing you needed was for someone to hear you in such a state.
Your fingers traveled lower, two digits pushing inside, searching for that gummy spot that made your toes curl.
Naoya had never bothered to please you in bed before. In his eyes, it was your job to please him, not the other way around. You were merely a warm hole for him to plant his seed; there was no purpose in bringing you pleasure (not that he could in the first place). It was safe to say that this situation was very random to you, completely out of nowhere (aside from his rumored conversation with his rugged cousin). If he had not acted like his usual stern self, you would've sworn he had gone mad.
You huffed in annoyance, unable to reach your g-spot with your own fingers. They just weren't long enough to reach that sweet spot inside you. You pulled your fingers out of your cunt with a sigh, moving them back to your clit instead. Your husband noticed your disappointment, resting his chin against his fist.
"What's the matter? Are your small, delicate fingers not enough?" Naoya teased, a smug grin spreading on his face.
"N-No… they're not…" you replied timidly. Naoya clicked his tongue in false sympathy.
"Poor little wife. Can't do anything without your husband, can you?" It took all your strength not to roll your eyes. He took your silence as an answer, chuckling quietly before leaning forward, patting the edge of the bed. "Come here."
You swallowed your pride and followed his command, scooting closer to the edge, your feet threatening to slip off the bed. Naoya hummed as you looked away in embarrassment, his hand trailing up your thigh as he examined you. He brought his hand to your cunt, his index finger pushing into you without warning, making you gasp.
"I don't believe I've ever seen you this wet before," he commented, pumping his finger in and out of your sopping cunt. "Is… is this normal for you… when you enjoy yourself?" he asked, the scarcest amount of insecurity in his tone. You sighed shakily when he added a second finger, nodding your head.
"Ye-Yes… yes, it is…" Naoya watched you closely before his eyes went back to your cunt.
"Hm. Strange." His fingers curled momentarily, making you gasp. Naoya took notice of your reaction, repeating the action, curling his fingers up into your g-spot again. You let out a moan this time, clenching around his fingers. Naoya's eyes widened, his gaze zeroing in on where his fingers disappeared inside you. He pushed them in and out of you for a few moments before adding a third finger, spreading you wide and making you keen. Your fingers kept working your clit all the while, moving faster, chasing your high.
"You're quite eager, aren't you?" He didn't wait for you to reply, pumping his fingers into you faster. "Sucking in my fingers like a cock-hungry slut. Who knew that my wife could be such a whore?"
"I-I'm sorry," you breathed, apologizing on instinct. Naoya chuckled, his free hand squeezing the underside of your thigh.
"It's alright, dear. You're only this way for your husband, right? You only get this needy for me, don't you?" You bit back an aggravated groan, nodding instead.
"Y-Yes… only you, Naoya."
"That's right," he breathed, pressing into your g-spot again. "You're only a slut for me, no one else."
"Naoya… p-please—"
"Don't whine. It's unbecoming." You shut your mouth, biting your lip when he removed his fingers. He stood up, peeling away at his clothes as he stared down at you. You kept still while he undressed, soon coming face to face with his erect cock. "Move back."
You followed his orders, scooting back to the center of the bed again. He followed you, crawling over your frame. He suddenly grabbed the backs of your knees, pushing your legs back, making you fall down to the bed.
"Hold your legs back," he demanded. You did as he said, holding onto the backs of your thighs. Naoya's eyes roamed over you, drinking you in as he breathed deeply. He sat up on his knees, stroking his cock languidly. He crawled closer a moment later, towering over you, his cock pressing at your entrance. He smirked to himself when he felt your entrance suck at the head of his cock, soon pushing into you with a sharp hiss.
"Shit—why are you so—fuck!" He continued to curse under his breath as he pushed into you, bottoming out soon enough. His cock felt a lot different when you were aroused, the fit snug instead of painful. This was probably the first time you could actually enjoy having his cock inside you.
"Naoya—"
"Shut up," he groaned, pulling out and thrusting back in, starting a reasonable pace. "I don't want to hear you complaining. You're going to take what I give you."
"O-Okay," you mumbled, already panting. His thrusts weren't too fast, but they were hard, his hips slapping loudly against yours.
"Fuck, yeah, fucking take it. You greedy slut, sucking me in—fuck!" he snarled above you, eyes squeezed shut as he thrust into you. Maybe he was trying to imagine you were someone else. You couldn't say that you cared; you had often done the same.
Your pussy squelched loudly, squishing and slurping with each roll of his hips. The added lubrication made his cock feel so much better than it did in the past. His dick filled you so well, your slick allowing him to thrust without difficulty, causing pleasure instead of the usual pain. You could feel pressure building deep inside you, growing with each smack of his hips against yours. You bit your lip, releasing one of your legs and moving your hand to your cunt, rubbing your clit to speed up your orgasm.
"What do you think you're doing?" You froze, nervously looking up at Naoya who slowed his thrusts for a moment.
"I… I just—"
"You think you can do better than me?" he snarled, pushing your hand away and replacing it with his own. "As if you could please yourself better than your husband."
His thumb circled your clit as his hips picked up speed again. You mewled, hips curling to meet his, and he smiled at the action.
"Look at you, bucking your hips into me like a filthy whore. You like all this, don't you?" You hummed quietly, but Naoya seemed displeased with this response. He pulled his hand away to slap at your ass, making you yelp. "Answer me when I ask you a question."
"Yes! Yes, I-I like it, I like it—oh, Naoya, I'm gonna c-cum—"
Naoya laughed breathlessly above you, almost in disbelief. His hand returned to your cunt, moving in time with his thrusts. You hadn't cum in so long that this sudden onslaught of attention sent you hurtling over the edge. Your nails dug into your legs, cunt pulsating as you came.
"Shit—what is—oh fuck—"
Naoya braced himself above you so he wouldn't collapse. You felt warm liquid filling you up as you came down from your high, his hips jolting into yours, twitching as he emptied his balls inside you.
The two of you stayed still for a minute, panting, composing yourselves. Naoya moved first, holding your hips down as he pulled out of you. You moaned softly at the sensation, letting him hold your legs apart and watch your combined fluids leak out of you.
"Not bad," he muttered to himself, watching his cum slip down between your ass.
"I… I'll go c-clean up," you offered, but Naoya kept a hold on you when you tried to get up.
"Did you enjoy yourself?" he asked, looking up to see your reaction.
"Uh… yes. Yes, I enjoyed it very much." He hummed.
"I enjoyed it, too. I didn't know you were capable of getting so wet for me. In fact," he continued, returning his thumb to your clit, "I think I'll have you like this from now on."
"You… what—"
"From this day forward, you will return to the bedroom after dinner and touch yourself until I arrive. That way, you'll be nice and soaked for me. Do you understand?" You suddenly dreaded the next evening.
"Y-Yes, sir." He smiled, patting your thigh.
"Good girl. Now, get on your hands and knees. I'm not quite done with you yet."
───────────────
1K notes · View notes
Text
when people ask "why is Mystra bland and Shar and Vlaakith are MASSIVE AND SLAYING HARD?" i want to screem
Ugh if i see that post criticizing Mystra for looking average compared to Shar or vlaakith reblogged one more time Im gonna scream fchgcg do you guys not understand the difference ?
I didn't expect to wake up today and be a Mystra defense attorney but yall need your perspective to be ripped wide open
disclaimer: this only goes as deep as the game lore the actual lore the game is based on is much more expansive and goes into detail about everything im about to quickly explain so i recommend reading it.
So first off all lets redefine your understanding of what Mystra is ,
She is magic, she is the weave, the very fabric of the weave is Mystra, when gale reached out to the purple light and said he can feel her he was not kidding he was literally holding a tiny fraction of her in his hand
All of the scenes that include the astral sea? all the flashes of magic all the outer planes scenes ? All the colors and twinkling? the setting itself? all of it is Mystra
its not made by her it IS her
when my guy Gale said we stand in the palm of Mystra he wasn't being poetic he was being literal the very fabric of the illusion he conjures is Mystra not from her but is her
(on a side note Gale is pretty much very literal in his words and what he tells you but people always brush that off as some scholarly exaggeration for some reason which is another post tbh)
What did you guys think the meaning of magic dying with Mystra's death and her having be reborn 3 times to bring it back to stability?? Its not only because she controls it but because she *is* it.
When you look at Scene that have her or the weave do not only recognize Mystra as the face you see but include the background, the lights, the colors, the magic, everything, if its hard to visualize just imagine the weave and the weave plane as an extension of her dress all of it just the fabric of her dress going on and on and on making everything around her and Gale.
like notice how Mystra physically is not in these pics but she still is because every flash of purple is a thread of her being
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
here when you look at her you probably only see her "human form" but expand your understanding to see her as the weave behind her the sparkles, and stars, the weave rain around her, the very floor she is standing on, the sky she is floating around in
Tumblr media
Now onto the second point:
Why do Shar and Vlaakith present as these all powerful terrifying massive beautiful entities when needing to converse with their followers and Mystra presents as a regular woman ?
There are alot of points i can touch on that will explain there are a 100 reasons
But the main ones are Shar and Vlaakith NEED to intimidate their followers into recognizing them (in other words put the fear of god and anime into the hearts of people that look to them) because without this fear that they inspire they have no influence, they need to convince anyone that lays eyes on them that they are powerful from the very first glance, their power and influence depend on how much people fear them into submission.along side looking ethereal and menacing Shar uses pain and Vlaakith uses false godhood and rewritten gith history to achieve that . that's why they are beautiful and fearsome and massive and their temples/creche's are massive and grand Vlaakith's being on the highest mountain in the tallest building and Shar's gauntlet and house of pain being the deepest underground Structure to exist to the point that its a bit unbelievable (to the point that i had to pan with my camera outside around the mountain to see if its even plausible fhdjd) all of this is supposed to inspire absolute fear and submission into anyone that walks in makes them feel small and dominated by the goddesses power in a single instant so they can instantly gain control over them.
What about Mystra? What do we see she has in comparison?
We see Mystra only has her alter where its used for communication because that's all she needs... She doesn't need to prove her power she doesn't need to make people fear her she doesn't need submission and domination she doesn't need to be recognized because any magic wielding entity can just look into themselves and feel her threads inside of them can look around and feel her presence that's all she needs. And when she communicates with her weave users (what would be considered as her followers but not really) she needs to present an equal footing to them not a dominant one because she needs to discuss things, to reason, to convince them, not only because they are smart and powerful with or without her but because she has no say in what they do with the weave (as long as it doesn't ruin the balance) she cannot stop them or take it from them but she can persuade them to go a certain direction that's the extent of it. And that's why her alignment is neutral instead of evil even though we know she doesn't have the best actions and methods but she doesn't need to hurt people to gain power she simply... Is... And that gives her her power. (another side note this is also gale cant simply stop believing in her or abandon her worship or take of his earnings etc its not that simple as she is in the air he breathes yk)
184 notes · View notes
bitsbug · 1 year
Text
good evening rainworld community. look at my ocs NOW
Tumblr media Tumblr media
YOU CAN ASK THEM QUESTIONS BTW. please do I’ve been marinating them for months. finely cured.
multiple paragraphs introducing each under the cut !
Tumblr media
Curtains Drawn Over Bone - he/him
The first of my iterators, and frankly the most developed. Curtains is incredibly young for an iterator, made at the tail end of the last generation, and was subject to some.. negligent planning during his construction. He was placed in an area of dubious rain quality and worse ground stability; the conditions were considered acceptable back then, but millions of cycles later that's no longer the case.
 Despite this glaring issue, he's been handling it better than you'd expect. Having recognized the long-term affects of his placement early on, Curtains took an interest in maintenance and optimization in order to survive, completely disregarding the Great Problem. He's broken some taboos in the process, and surprisingly didn't contract rot while doing it. His efforts have paid off with a suite of purposed organisms and a significantly more advanced, upgraded facility.
 Some things would be impossible to address, though. Despite his best efforts, erosion and earthquakes now threaten to topple his can; something he's scrambling to fix.
 Curtains is generally regarded as a finicky, flighty person by his group. He's a recluse and a workaholic, driven by some desperate ferver to avoid the worst. When he does appear in chatrooms, he seems constantly wound up, often vanishing as quickly as he arrives. He was like this long before his current situation. But do not mistake his nervousness for ineptitude, because Curtains is very meticulous and dedicated in his endeavors, backed by his thorough understanding of iterator anatomy and a genuine passion for his work.
Tumblr media
Twenty Taken in Vain - they/them
The only iterator in this damn group who isn't a social recluse. Built in the golden age of the Ancients, a time of prosperity and uneventfulness, TTiv found their place in the bustling global communities of their kin. They're of the belief that research is best done collaboratively, and constructed their workflow around this frame.
But, really, they never much cared for that work or their purpose. Devoting themself to tireless research for something likely impossible just wasn't a good use of time, nor did they find the process very interesting, so they sought to fulfill their life in less desolate ways. As much as a sentient, static building is able to, at least.
In particular, Twenty Taken in Vain pursues a variety of art forms! There's a critical lack of artwork made with iterators in mind (While interesting to discuss, most Ancient books can be read in less than a second for example), so they seek to fill that gap. Their main passion is literature, but they do dabble in many other subjects, such as digital painting, textile weaving, 'false memory' qualia fabrication, and DMing a tabletop roleplaying game for their local group.
Their social proclivities haven't served them well in recent years, because the global communications decay has left them more isolated than ever before. Losing contact with multiple close friends has drained them of motivation, and made them fearful of losing those they do have left. Imagine like, depression but on a supercomputer scale.
In personality, TTiv is as chatty as you'd expect of them, but without the energy associated with extroversion. Their charisma is carried in their nonchalance and humor, with an undertone of snarkiness - only occasionally with any bite to it. They're adaptable as well, without a fixation on one subject and a willingness to introspect. Since the comm failure, they've become a lot quieter and more irritable, stress they've barely kept under wraps.
Tumblr media
Anxiety Practice - it/xe
Polite and inoffensive, AP is an easily overlooked iterator. It appears frequently in chatrooms, but always in the shadow of its kin, and rarely draws attention to itself. Despite this demeanor, xe certainly aren't shy or nervous - that's already taken by Curtains - xe just prefer xer distance and privacy.
 As it currently stands, Anxiety is the only member of its group actively working on the Great Problem. It prefers exploring more unorthodox theories for ascension, with a fixation on Karma flowers and their properties. As part of its experiments, its created a few.. curious organisms hybridized with the flower. It also collaborates closely with Distant Humming for information on the grander Cycle and general advice. Thus far, it's made a few fascinating discoveries, but predictibly no breakthroughs on the Triple Affirmative. Oh also, sometimes xe put karma-affecting drug cocktails into xer water intake. normal iterator behavior i promise.
 Even at xer most comfortable and nonchalant, AP keeps an aloof, almost stoic nature. Chronically icy cool, xe seem incapable of expressing anything besides calm indifference. This isn't true, of course, xer composure is just nothing to scoff at. It even uses its reputation for comedy at times, usually through deadpan delivery or 'breaking character'.
Tumblr media
Distant Humming - she/Her
An anomaly in existence, the first iterator to almost reach ascension. Distant Humming became an echo by her own hand, using heavy adjustments to her retaining wall and filter pumps to essentially bathe her facility in void fluid, solving the issue of her kinds' distributed conscience by just addressing all of it. at once.
Tumblr media
 Her subsequent failed ascension left her systems broken and mutated in impossible ways, but she functions nonetheless in her ethereal, undying state. The warping irreparably affected her memory and personality though; she considers herself a different person from the Humming before.
 Despite her uncanny nature and haunting appearance, Distant Humming is a surprisingly amiable person, if vague or foreboding at times. Her detached state of existence allows her the breathing room to appreciate the world for what it is, and insight into the Cycle that'd be impossible to gain from within it. She's happy to share her observations with anyone who'd listen.
 About once a year, Humming's karmic cycle aligns with that of her local group, affording her a limited time to speak with them. She appears totally non-existent outside this period.
THAT’S ALL BYEEE
630 notes · View notes