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deadsetobsessions · 3 months

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What Do You Have There?

A knife!

Danny plunked the butter knife in its pedestal of importance. The nice thing about having a billionaire vigilante for a... foster is the amount of money Danny was allowed to drop on his hobbies. For example, his extensive collection of souvenirs.

They're not just any old regular souvenirs. No, no, no. That would be so boring! No, these souvenirs, he obtained from the various muggings, knife fights, and various other situations he's been in ever since he was dropped ungraciously into Gotham.

The butter knife? Damian. Precocious, stabby Damian who he had startled into the stab instinct. A point of pride, really. Danny knew Damian was good at fighting! It was practically, in ghost terms, a super enthusiastic hello! Yes, the butter knife would be kept in the well lit part of the wall. Alfred had told him to stay home today to recuperate. He didn't need it, since the wound would heal in an hour or two, but he'd take staying at home any day.

A couple of hours later, well into the afternoon and right before what Danny knew to be their patrol hours, Danny had a visitor.

"Danny."

"Oh, hey, Damian! What's up?" Danny turned around to see Damian hovering awkwardly near the door.

"I am here to... check upon your wound. It is imperative that it gets proper treatment."

Ancients, Damian was exactly like those alley kids. He just ate a thesaurus instead of the drawling accent the alley kids picked up. Which meant Damian endeared himself to Danny pretty quickly. Like a little ghostling.

"Oh, I'm good. See? No blood is leaking out of the wound." Danny held up spotless bandages.

Danny watched Damian step into his haunt- his room- with a pleased hum. Damian inspected the bandages and stepped back with a sharp nod of approval. His eyes flicked to the wall that Danny was rearranging (again) and did a double take at the butter knife in the middle.

"Is that the butter knife I stabbed you with?"

"Why, yes, it is!" Danny beamed.

"Why on earth would you display that?"

"Because you stabbed me with it?"

"That makes absolutely no sense, you simpleton! When someone stabs you, stab them back!"

"That would be mean!"

Damian spluttered. Danny tugged the kid closer to the wall, cheering inwardly as Damian didn't shove him away. It might be because he was exaggeratedly wincing as he moved his "injured arm" but Danny has learned to take a win where he could find them, especially with ghosts. Not that Damian was a ghost, but he sure acted like one.

"Do you want to see my collection?"

"Your collection?"

"Yeah!" Without giving him time to answer, Danny barreled ahead. "So this is the knife you stabbed me with. Which, by the way, was an awesome show of strength and accuracy."

Damian grimaced. Danny continued blithely, secretly memorizing Damian's reactions to laugh at later.

"And this is the knife those guys stabbed me with that one time Cass found me. And this one is a bullet someone shot at me down by the docks. I think I interrupted some kind of meeting?"

Damian's jaw had a slight tick to it that would have been a baffled frown on anyone else.

"And when was this?"

"Oh, like a week ago."

"What? When did you go to the docks?!"

"At night. I couldn't sleep."

"And you went to the docks?! How did you even get there?!"

"Walked," Danny lied, like a lying liar. He floated, obviously, but none of them knew that. "Anyways, this is a law book! Someone threw it at my head!"

"Hey, guys! What're you doing?"

Danny and Damian turned around.

"Richard? Brown? What are you doing here?"

"Oh, Bruce wanted me to come back for the weekend," Dick said. Danny knew it was code for "something's going down and we need back up." Man, he still couldn't believe they didn't know he knew they were crime fighting vigilantes.

"Same!" Stephanie said. Danny was glad to see that her wounds from "cartwheeling in the manor" were healed.

"I see. Danny was showing me his collection of... objects people have used as weapons against him."

"What?!"

"Yeah!" Danny beamed, completely innocent. "Come on! I'll show you!"

With that, Danny continued to ramble. He just knew that the way Dick's and Stephanie's smiles strained would give him a good laugh for weeks to come. "And this is the glass bottle a drunk tried to shank me with in Crime Alley, and this is a knife the Red Hood himself threw at me."

Dick interrupted, face stiff. "Hood threw a knife at you?!"

"Yeah, but that was because my kids broke into his safe house and I was trying to get them to stop looting the place. And he didn't know I was a kid too, so he aimed a gun at my head. He shot at me too, but I couldn't go back to get the bullet, or else it would have joined my collection." Danny grabbed a box and shook it, metal rattling inside.

Dick smiled sweetly, Stephanie and Damian inching away from it.

"Oh, wow, I see!"

----

In his apartment, Jason shuddered. He grabbed his guns.

"Something's wrong. I just know it," he muttered to himself.

----

Danny smiled innocently as he described the horrific, near death events he got his souvenirs from.

"This is my bullet box! Man, Gotham has a lot of gun fights. I got shot so many times!" Danny complained, shaking the box like a rattling toy.

"Did you know Danny snuck out to go to the bay?" Damian snitched immediately, like a snitch.

"The Bay?! Danny! You know that's where people dump bodies, right?!" Stephanie poked him in the arm.

"Yeah, but like... I wouldn't die. And besides! I missed my friends!"

"You mean the minions you made in Crime Alley?" Steph asked. Danny pouted, eyeing the way Dick's gaze roved over his souvenirs and paling the more he realized how often Danny "got hurt."

Damian bumped a shoulder against Dick's arm. Danny returned to the conversation.

"If anything, I'm their minion." He said, remembering the times the Alley kids sent him on food runs.

"Fear Danny, the overlord of street rats."

Danny snorted. And- "Oh! Yeah, there was like a weird owl looking guy? And then they stabbed me with a finger and I kept it because woah, cool talon looking thing, right? And then they threw a bunch of those tiny knives at me? And then they just kind of vanished? Gotham is so weird."

And now, with all of them pale and stressed out of their minds, Danny swung a devastating blow called guilt trip.

"And that's the batarangs!" Three heads swung over to the line of batarangs. "Those vigilantes kept throwing them at me! One of them even hit me in the arm. Those things are sharp, man."

"Uh. Which ones?" Stephanie asked.

"Hm?" Danny hummed obliviously.

"Do you know which vigilantes?"

"Oh, it was like... the purple one. And the sword one? And like the one with the yellow insignia in the middle. And... all of them, I think? Except for signal. That guy's cool."

Stephanie and Damian had matching veiled looks of guilt. Dick shot them a sharp look. Danny decided to deal the last bit of damage to Dick.

"I'm glad you guys are way less stabby than the general Gotham public though, butter knife incident aside. At least I don't have to worry about you guys getting into danger, right? If you guys got hurt like my family did... I don't know..."

Danny smiled-squinted at them, channeling Cujo at his cutest and saddest: when he doesn't get to eat off of Danny's plate. So, pretty sad and pathetic.

"Uh, yeah." Dick said, guilt splayed all over his face. "Alfred said dinner was almost ready."

"Yes," Damian cleared his throat, looking away. "We shall partake in Pennyworth's hard work."

"Ahaha!" Stephanie laughed, nervously. "Welp, let's go bother Tim!"

Falling into step behind them, Danny grinned.

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hs-is-loml · 1 year

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Defending. (x.t)

PART ONE OF TWO

Pairing: Xavier Thorpe x Girlfriend!Reader

Summary: wednesday tells you about her suspicions about xavier but you come to his defense and are determined to find proof to prove her wrong

Warnings: mentions of making a small cut, very little like a drop of blood, hydes? (those ugly mfs) NOT PROOFREAD

a/n: this is going to be in two parts, but part two will be posted late 12/1 or early 12/2 depending on when i finish writing it! it's basically a smut fic for part two which is why i decided to split it up in case people are not comfortable with it!

masterlist - part two

“Now, this is too far,” you said to Wednesday as she told you about her suspicions about Xavier being the monster.

“All the evidence points to him.”

“Wednesday, it’s not him.”

“You’re only saying that because you’re in a relationship with him,” the girl argued back with her.

“No shit, Wednesday. I know him enough to know he’s not. You think I wouldn’t notice by now if he were going around town killing people?”

“You’re letting this blind your judgment,” Wednesday stated.

“NEWS FLASH WEDNESDAY HE’S NOT THE HYDE! WOULD IT KILL YOU THINK FOR ANYONE BUT YOURSELF?!” you yelled at the girl who just raised her eyebrows back at you.

“What are you going to do when you find out he is?”

“Nothing,” you answered softly you could feel a headache coming from yelling, “There’s nothing to find out.” You walked back inside from the balcony and exited the room before you felt like destroying anything, and Enid would get mad at the mess later.

You wandered around the school before you came upon the statute of Edgar Allen Poe. You sat down near the statute wanting to clear your mind for a second before you looked up and realized the mark beneath the book he was holding. You tried to recall what your mom would always tell you as a kid about the Nightshade Society.

“He was notorious for his riddles. For it was not one alone, but each line was individual. One to remember is, ‘The answer will give a sharp cracking sound,’ that will help you once you find it,” was something she always mentioned when she talked about Nevermore.

“A sharp cracking sound,” you repeated as you stood from your spot and it clicked, or more so snapped into place. You raised your right arm and snapped two times. “Thank you, Nightshade Society.”

You walked down the staircase into the dimly lit library. The portraits that hung on the wall of old members caught your eye as you looked about the room. At the end of the portraits you find your parents, they tell you to make a name for yourself, but how could you live up to them?

“You put that bag over my head, I will choke you with that very rope in your hands,” you warned the people who stood behind you as you looked for your mom’s diary knowing that would be the only thing you could find answers in. “You should know to not mess with a witch with heightened senses.”

“Oh, come on, Y/n, we were just trying to have fun,” Kent joked causing the other to mutter in agreement.

“I WASN’T GOING TO DO ANYTHING I SWEAR,” Xavier yelped once he notice it was you and threw the bag in his hands to Ajax.

“Someone’s in the dog house tonight…” Yoko teased. Kent and a couple of the others gave a couple howls joining in the joke.

“You know Xavier you could’ve told me about this,” you said as you finally found your mother’s diary.

“Babe, if I could, I would’ve-”

“He’s sworn to secrecy,” Bianca pointed out as she gave you a dirty look when you walked to a desk with the diary in your arms.

You pulled it out to see she sealed it with magic though not any kind of magic, blood magic. “My family was a part of the Nightshades long before you, although I thought it to be disbanded.”

“Yeah, the group kind of lost its charter 30 years ago after some normie kid died,” Xavier explained which answered your thoughts as he walked up to you noticing that you were looking for something.

“But we have a lot of wealthy alumni, so Weems looks the other way as long as nobody makes any waves,” Yoko added on.

“What are you looking for anyways?” Xavier questioned you.

“If you’re trying to open your mom’s diary, you can’t,” Bianca told you cockingly.

“Maybe you can’t,” you retorted just when you noticed a letter opener sitting at the corner of the table.

You reached over and grabbed it seeing that it had a sharp edge. You noticed from your peripheral vision that the group was crowding around you to see what you were doing. Xavier was right next to you with his attention on the knife you held in your hand. You lifted your right hand over the book and took the knife to your palm just before it touched your skin you heard shouts from around the room.

“Y/N!”

“Woah, girl, no need to prove a point.”

“No need for bloodshed-”

“What are you doing?!”

“No, no, no, no, absolutely not,” you heard Xavier say as he tried to grab for the knife, but it was too late. “Oh my god, only you. Literally, you’re the only one who would do this.”

You sliced the inside of your palm and allowed for the knife to drop down onto the table as you felt the sting in your palm. You closed your fist and put it directly above the lock on the book. You felt the blood sweep down near the bottom of your fist before it dropped down into the lock.

“Blood magic?” Yoko asked in amazement when she saw the lock unlatch and you opened to the front page that held your mom’s portrait along with her signature.

“Only the very best for mother dearest,” you remark sarcastically.

“That explains a lot!” Kent said from behind as Xavier looked around for a first aid kit. “Bianca was trying to open that months ago and nothing would work!” right as the words left his mouth, Bianca smacked him in the back of the head causing him to groan in pain, “Well, ow.”

When Xavier finally found a first aid kit that looked like it could be decades old, he went back to your side and held out his palm to you. Putting your sliced palm in his hand without him even having to ask you.

“I couldn’t find any actual alcohol to disinfect it, so vodka will have to do,” he unscrewed the bottle with one hand and looked back into your eyes before you gave him a slight nod telling him it was okay for him to do it. “This might sting.”

“Oh shit, I can’t watch,” Ajax gagged as the vodka was poured onto your palm and the blood washed away with it.

“Makes the both of us,” another member said.

“Stop being babies, people would think you’re the one with the cut palm,” you told them off as taking in the pain with no reaction. “At least I have a hot doctor patching me up,” you smirked.

“Only for you,” Xavier muttered as he focused on wrapping the bandage around your hand. At this point, almost all the members already left not wanting to see what you and Xavier get up to.

“Thanks, babe,” giving him a kiss on the cheek before returning your attention back to your mother’s diary.

“What was so important that you have to look into your mom’s diary?” he asked you. “You’re looking for answers, but for what?”

“Any information about hydes.”

“That’s the monster, Wednesday was talking about right?”

“The same one she believes you to be, yes.” you look up from the diary to see his confused expression.

“Wait, me?” he wondered aloud.

“I told her it wasn’t you though, but that girl is the most stubborn person I have ever met,” you informed him taking one of his hands in your non-injured one to give it a tight squeeze in reassurance. “You have to be careful, I know you’re not the Hyde, but she is going to do everything she can to prove her point.”

“I love you.” he blurted out to you. “You could’ve easily believed her, but you didn’t.”

“I know you, Xavier. There’s no damn way in hell, I’m going to let you be falsely accused for something you so obviously are not,” you stated. “And, I love you, that’s why I’m trying to see if my mother knew anything about Hydes during her time here,” you smiled at him.

You turned to put the diary back onto the desk as you hurriedly flipped through the pages scanning for any kind of information on the damn monster. You were about to turn to another page just before you noticed a name you’ve heard of before. Francois Sylvanne. Xavier moved to stand behind you leaning over your shoulder to read the diary as well. He placed his hands on your hips to steady himself causing you to lean back into him.

“Seems like Wednesday’s little boy toy just got way more interesting,” you pointed to the name on the page for Xavier to read.

“Who is she?”

“His mother. The same one he goes to therapy for, I heard she died a while back, and apparently the sheriff isn’t only bad at his job but bad at parenting too,” you explained as you read more of your mom’s writing.

There’s something about this girl. She keeps to herself. Quiet. Distance. Truly an Outcast. I have a feeling something is going on with her or at least something will. I’m going to keep a close eye on her, but she is graduating this year.

“Weird, your mom always has good intuition, I wonder if she’s right about this one too,” Xavier said after he read your mother’s entry.

You flipped through more pages of the book and found nothing. You looked at every line on the pages, and your mother never mentioned her once again. It wasn’t until you got to the last page of the diary to see a quite messier version of your mother’s writing.

THAT GIRL IS A HYDE. FRANCOIS IS A HYDE. HIDDEN AWAY WITH A NORMIE IN THE TOWN.

“No,” you gaped as you turned to see nothing more and reached the end of the book.

“Do you think Tyler’s the Hyde?” he whispered into your ear.

“It’s the only way. It makes sense too,” you claimed, “But the question is why?”

#xavier thorpe #xavier thorpe x reader #wednesday #wednesday series #wednesday netflix #wednesday addams #xavier thorpe fluff #xavier x you #xavier thorpe x you #xavier x reader #netflix #percy hynes white #xavier thorpe angst #bianca barclay #fanfic #witch

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slaybestieslay946 · 3 months

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Everything About You - Luke Castellan

Summary: You've been Luke Castellan's closest friend ever since he arrived at camp, but unbeknownst to you, he's been desperately crushing on you this whole time. And of course, the feelings are reciprocated. In hopes of getting over you, he agrees to give it a go with someone else. Will he realise how you feel before its too late?

Pairing: Luke Castellan x Ares!Reader

Warning: Swearing

Word Count: 4.9k

a/n: uh sorry for shitting on that demeter girl sm, there needed to be some conflict somewhere

also please forgive me for this fic being crazy self-indulgent and therefore not up to par with my usual writing, i needed to express the obsession i have w this man otherwise I'd go INSANE

MASTERLIST

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You thought you knew everything about Luke Castellan.

After 5 years of being best friends, how could you not? You knew about the big things in his life, his damaged mother, the strained relationship with his father. You understood his anger towards the gods, the way it fuelled him to be better, work harder.

You knew about the little things too. He liked green olives, not black ones. He always stuck his leg out from under the duvet when sleeping. He sucked at tightening his armour, always convincing you to do it for him.

You could recognise each and every one of his tells. He always cracked his knuckles before sparring. He scratched the back of his neck when he was nervous.

But the one thing you didn’t know about him was the way he felt about you. You, who was normally so observant, was entirely oblivious to the gentle touches and soft looks he threw your way. And that, more than anything, was driving him crazy.

“You gotta tell her how you feel man.” Chris said to him, noticing the way his gaze would constantly stray to the Ares table. Your table.

Luke scoffed, “Yeah, right. I’d rather die…”

“Yeah, well it’s driving me nuts. All this pining. It’s-”

“Pathetic? Tell me about it.” He responded, not taking his eyes off you.

“Well, yeah. It’s pathetic. At this point, either confess your undying love, or move on.”

Luke could safely say that neither of those options sounded particularly appealing.

“There’s that new girl, y’know the one in Demeter?” Chris continued.

“What about her?”

“She’s pretty cute, don’t you think?”

Luke tore his gaze away from you to look at the girl Chris was on about. She was pretty, sure, with pale blond hair and flushed cheeks. He recognised her as one of the girls that would always sit in the fields and entertain the kids with her flower magic. But still, she couldn’t hold a candle to you.

“Yeah, she’s fine I guess.” Luke responded, noncommittal.

“See, told you so! Look, how about I set you guys up-”

“No thanks.”

“Ugh, you're no fun. Fine, just talk to the Demeter girl at the campfire tomorrow.”

Luke opened his mouth again to refuse, but Chris cut him off.

“And if you do, I’ll stop bugging you about it. Promise.”

Luke looked at his pleading face, and knew that there would be no shutting him up until he agreed.

“Fine. I’ll talk to her.”

The next morning, Luke woke up earlier than normal, so he figured he might as well get some extra training in before capture the flag in the afternoon.

He climbed out of bed as quietly as possible, not wanting to disturb his many, sleeping, half-siblings, and grabbed his sword, stepping out of the cabin into the fresh morning air. He jogged down towards the amphitheatre, and was confused for a moment when he could hear movement inside the small arena.

Then, as he walked closer to the entrance, he realised it was you, slashing dummies left right and centre. And, gods, the sight took his breath away.

The early morning sun shone on your face, highlighting your sharp features. You moved like a dancer, and the sword in your hand was merely an extension of your body. Yes, they called him the best swordsman in the last 300 years, but his technique couldn’t compare to the grace of the favourite daughter of Ares.

He watched you for a few more minutes, standing just in the entrance to the amphitheatre, until he realised it might be a little creepy to stand there and watch you, so he decided to make himself known.

“What are you doing up so early?” He called out, striding forwards towards you.

You quickly spun around, a shocked expression on your face that softened into a fond smile when you realised it was just Luke who had snuck up on you.

“Oh, y’know, just preparing to beat your ass later on.”

“Aw, really? Hate to break it to you, but you don’t stand a chance.”

“Wanna test that, soldier?” You smirked, gesturing to the sword in this hand.

Luke laughed, stabbing the sword into the sandy floor and cracking his knuckles, meanwhile you took up an offensive stance.

And, as soon as he picked up his sword, you were on him, ruthlessly slashing through the air, and he barely had enough time to block the blow before you sliced through his face. He returned your strikes with equal vigour, moving with the precision and technique that he was so famous for.

With the way the pair of you fought, anyone would think you hated one another, trading blow for violent blow, both of you refusing to hold back.

Of course, it was the complete opposite, but that had never stopped the pair of you from sparring so aggressively.

The session went on for close to half an hour, neither of you wanting to surrender to the other. Eventually you were bested, as Luke sent your sword flying from your hand, holding his own up to your throat.

You held your hands up in defeat, rolling your eyes at him, before moving to sit down at the edge of the arena.

“I’m still gonna win in capture the flag today.” You remarked, your voice strained from physical exercise, but jovial nonetheless.

“As talented as you are,” He responded, sitting down next to you, “You're not gonna be able to beat Annie’s new strategy.”

“And what might that be?” You said, shuffling closer to the boy.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” He teased.

You pretended to sulk at that, turning your body away from him in the process. Luke frowned, pulling your arm to turn you to face him again.

“Don’t be sad. Even if I told you you still wouldn’t win.”

“Whatever. Asshole.” You mumbled.

“What did you call me?” He asked, accusatory, and you quickly made your escape, running out of the amphitheatre to avoid his wrath.

But, of course, he managed to catch up with you easily, slinging an arm around your shoulders as you walked.

Somehow, you both telepathically communicated a need for breakfast, and your feet naturally led you both to the pavilion.

“I’ll see you later on, yeah?” You asked, detaching yourself from him to look him in the eyes.

“Mhm. Can’t wait to kick your ass.”

You laughed, cocking your head at him, “Why are you thinking about my ass Castellan? Bit weird.”

And then you were striding away towards Clarisse, leaving the Hermes cabin counsellor frozen, a faint blush covering his face.

Maybe Chris was right. His addiction to you was getting slightly out of hand.

“That boy is so obsessed with you.” Clarisse muttered, her voice derisive as you sat down opposite her.

“Who? Luke?”

“Who else?”

“Nah, no way.” You responded, chuckling as you grabbed a slice of toast from the centre of the table.

Clarisse rolled her eyes. How oblivious could you be?

“Whatever. As long as your little romance doesn’t get in the way this afternoon.”

“No chance. Besides, there is no romance. Gods, you’re just as bad as Silena!” You laughed, slightly sheepishly.

“Rude. But still, she’s right about these things like 90% of the time.”

Silena had been trying to get you to admit that you liked Luke for months, but each time she brought it up you would staunchly deny it. Of course, you were lying through your teeth, but it’s not like you could just admit something like that. It would open up a whole can of worms that you didn’t need.

“Yeah, well this is the 10% then.” You shrugged, taking another bite of your toast.

“You’re impossible.”

“Aw, don’t be like that. You know I’m your favourite sibling.”

“You were my favourite. I don’t know anymore.”

“Bitch.”

When Ares and Hermes were on opposing teams, suddenly capture the flag became even more serious.

Ares, of course, was the warrior cabin. Their father was the god of war, making them the most feared in combat. And, most of Camp half-blood was scared shitless of you and Clarisse.

Then there was Hermes, and their automatic alliance with Athena. That meant they had Luke, the camp's star swordsman, and Annabeth and her siblings, who always came up with the best strategies.

It was safe to say that when they weren’t competing against each other, it was painfully boring.

You only had about half an hour before the game started, so after you had secured your armour and recovered your sword from the amphitheatre, you decided to seek out Annabeth, both because you enjoyed her company, and because she may spill something about her new strategy.

“Hey, Annabeth!” You called out, and the young girl spun around to give you a little smile.

“Hey. What’s up?”

“Nothing. Just wanted to see how things are going over here, y’know, scope out the competition.”

“I’m not gonna tell you our strategy.” She deadpanned.

“Damnit. Oh well. What’ve you been up to, I feel like I haven’t seen you in ages.”

It was true, you hadn’t spoken to Annabeth for a few days, nor had you even seen her.

“She’s been too busy stalking the new kid.” Luke’s voice interjected and he stepped out of seemingly nowhere to pat the girl's head.

“Shut up! No I haven’t.” She sulked, pushing him off of her.

“Wait, which new kid is this? Percy?” You asked.

You’d seen Luke show the boy around camp. You’d been briefly introduced, but you hadn’t spoken to him all that much. The only other thing you knew about him was that Clarisse had a bit of an issue with him. Well, she had an issue with a lot of people, so that wasn’t exactly new.

“Yep. Can you believe it? My little sister has a crush!” Luke exclaimed, holding a hand to his chest.

Annabeth then gave him a small shove, before something clearly occurred to her, and she gave him that look that meant she had something on him. And whatever the blackmail was, it worked as he immediately held his hands up in surrender.

“Sorry, sorry! You could never like a boy, I know that!”

Annabeth didn’t respond, simply glaring at him whilst you laughed. Sometimes, she really was intimidating. Despite being only 12 years old, she had a stare harsher than medusa.

“Anyway. You need to get going, otherwise you're definitely gonna lose.” Luke said, pushing you away by your breastplate.

“Fine.” You said, and were about to walk away when you noticed his own armour, as usual, wasn't done up properly.

You walked back towards him, sighing, and grabbed the straps on either side of his body, pulling them taut, doing the same for the guards on his forearms.

“You seriously need to learn how to do these yourself, soldier. One day, I might not be here to do them for you.”

“That’s not true. You’ll always be with me.” He whispered, more hopeful than certain about his statement.

You just rolled your eyes, grabbing his helmet out of his hands to push it on his head.

“There. Can’t have someone hurting your pretty face, can we?”

“Uh-”

“Bye, have fun losing!” You laughed, and then you were walking away, once again leaving a malfunctioning Luke in your wake.

“And you say I have a crush.” Annabeth snorted.

“Shut up.”

Pretty much as soon as you made it back to your team, the conch sounded, and Clarisse shouted at you to ‘get your ass over here’.

She then quickly outlined her plan to you as you both made your way deeper into the woods, the rest of your team splitting off at different points as you went.

You two, as well as a few others, were to be on the offensive, searching for the flag, meanwhile the rest of your team were either guarding the flag, or serving as distractions. It was a pretty typical strategy, but it had every chance of working, as long as you two were able to work out roughly where the other team's flag was.

“Well, I’m pretty sure it won’t be at Zeus’ fist this time, that’s where Annabeth put it last time, and apparently she has a new strategy.”

“She could be lying to you?”

“Yeah, I guess. But it’s a place to start.” Clarisse reluctantly agreed, and the two of you moved further into the woods.

Along the way you came across a few of the blue team on border patrol, and the pair of you quickly disarmed them, you with your sword, and Clarisse with her electric staff.

You made your way down to the south edge of the woods, and it appeared that the number of blue troops were decreasing. Normally you would take that as meaning the flag wasn’t this way, but knowing Annabeth that could be some kind of purposeful bluff, so you kept going, until eventually you reached a dead end and had to choose a different direction.

“Ugh, the others better be closer than us I swear. I’m not losing again.” Your sibling said, batting aside a tree branch with her crackling staff.

“Yeah. I’m sick of having to listen to Castellan gloat.” You sighed, although the noise was more fond than anything else.

Clarisse rolled her eyes at your inability to keep him out of a conversation.

Then, there was a sudden noise of people crashing through the trees. You both raised your weapons, ready to defend yourselves, when you realised that they wore red helmets and were in fact, your siblings.

“Oi, Clarisse, we heard some of them talking that they’ve got the flag down at the creek! And that brat Jackson’s guarding it!”

You noticed the way Clarisse’s eyes filled with anger (and a little bloodlust).

“You keep going,” She said, “I’ll check it out with them.” She then patted you on the back and spun around, sprinting off into the woods.

“DUMBASS! IT’S PROBABLY A TRAP!” You yelled, cupping your free hand to your mouth, but either she didn’t hear you, or she didn’t care, because she gave no response.

You sighed, unable to believe how gullible your sister could be sometimes. But, you had nothing better to do than keep searching for the flag, so you kept walking, slashing through the undergrowth with your sword as you went.

Eventually you felt like you had covered the entire forest, and at a certain point you weren’t entirely sure if you were still in enemy territory or not.

That was until Luke Castellan burst into the clearing holding your flag.

“Fancy seeing you here.” He smirked.

“Asshole.” You snapped, immediately leaping at him, sword in hand, just as you had during sparring that morning. God he loved your temper.

You then began to battle one another with even more zeal than earlier, your slashes quicker and your blows harder as you moved. It was strange the way you two sparred, it was like as soon as you were in combat you forgot that he was your closest friend and that you would die for him in a heartbeat. Instead all you could think about was winning.

He was so annoyingly graceful as he moved, each swish of his sword perfectly calculated to hit at a certain spot, each block and parry almost perfectly executed.

Of course, your anger at his flawless technique was only further intensified when you realised that one: he didn’t have a shield, and two: he was holding his sword in his non-dominant hand, with the flag in his dominant one.

You ground your teeth at that. How could you expect to ever beat him if he held his own so easily? Whenever you watched Luke Castellan fight, you couldn’t help but wonder how he was a son of Hermes, and not a son of Athena or Ares.

And, as always, he defeated you eventually.

He threw a blow at you that you couldn’t quite block, and the force of it sent you toppling backwards, and landing on your ass. He quickly lunged down too, pinning you to the floor and holding his sword to your throat, so close that it almost broke skin.

“Do you surrender?” He asked, grinning smugly down at you, and you couldn’t help but notice just how close his face was to yours.

“Never.” You spat, furrowing your eyebrows at him.

He sighed fondly, before moving upwards to press a quick kiss to your forehead and saying, “You’re so cute, y’know that?”

Now it was your turn to be left malfunctioning, your face bright red with astonishment as he leapt off of you, and ran away into the forest, leaving you behind, on the floor, and completely and utterly frozen.

And then you came back to your senses, pushing yourself off the floor and chasing after him.

“LUKE CASTELLAN, YOU MOTHERFUCKER!” You screamed, sprinting through the woods as fast as you could, but you knew there was nothing you could do to catch up, and you could faintly hear him laughing as those stupid long legs carried him over into friendly territory.

It appeared that a lot had happened during that game of capture the flag.

Luke had gotten your flag, and was about to go over and taunt Clarisse about it, but he immediately saw that she was even angrier than usual, and seemed genuinely upset.

He quickly went over to ask Annabeth what was going on, watching as you ran over to console her.

“Percy broke her staff.” She said, pointing to the shattered piece of wood in Clarisse’s right hand.

Luke winced. He knew how precious the girl was about that staff; it was the only token she had from her father. He was surprised Percy was even still breathing right now.

“Wait, where is Percy?” Luke asked.

“With Chiron. He got claimed.”

“What? By who-?”

“Posiedon.”

The boy’s jaw dropped.

“You’re joking. No fucking way.”

“Tell me about it. He could be the one, Luke.” The younger girl said, her voice quiet and hopeful.

“Hm. He could be. Don’t get your hopes up too high though, yeah?”

Annabeth sighed, but nodded nonetheless.

Luke then gave her a quick pat on the shoulder, before beginning to walk away, intending to get a shower in before dinner, but Annabeth quickly stopped him in his tracks.

“Where are you going? It’s dinner, silly!”

“What, no it’s not-”

“Yes, it is. Campfire tonight, remember? Early dinner? C’mon, you’ve only been here for what, five years?”

Luke groaned, and suddenly all the adrenaline from Percy being claimed, and from winning capture the flag melted away, as he remembered the deal he had made with Chris the night before.

He traipsed behind the daughter of Athena on the way to the dining pavilion, suddenly dreading the rest of the evening.

As the pair entered the building, a cheer went up from the Hermes and Athena table, a few of their respective siblings rushing over to give them pats on the back and congratulations for their efforts.

Luke laughed along with them, eventually being dragged away from his sister to his own table.

Then dinner began, and it was as loud and raucous as usual, maybe even more so coming off the back of a capture the flag victory. But Luke was unusually quiet, pushing his food around his plate and taking the odd sullen bite. He could feel Chris’ eyes on him, probably pissed off he was sulking again, but he didn’t really care.

He could also feel another gaze on him, and he looked up, expecting it to be you, giving him a feeble glare or mouthing some stupid insult. But instead it was the girl from the Demeter table, twisting a lock of hair around her finger and smiling sweetly at him.

The boy felt slightly disappointed, but masked it with a grin of his own, winking at the girl before returning to his food.

He felt that strange sinking feeling in his stomach as he continued to eat, but decided to push it away. What choice did he have? It’s not like you’d ever reciprocate his feelings, so maybe Chris was right and he should give someone else a chance. Besides, how bad could it be?

As it turned out, it could be really bad.

Ok, maybe that was an overstatement. Really boring was probably more accurate.

As soon as they got to the campfire, Chris disappeared, but not before practically shoving Luke down beside the girl from Demeter, who let out a high-pitched giggle as he fell into her slightly.

And gods he wished he hadn’t agreed to his friends stupid plan. Because he then had to spend the rest of the evening being obnoxiously flirted with. And sure, she was nice, and quite pretty, but not in the way that mattered.

She didn’t take his breath away like you did. He couldn’t imagine searching for her face in a crowd. The whole thing was just dull.

And her laughter was grating. Really grating. There was no way she thought he was that funny, especially when he was giving mostly one word responses.

They had nothing in common. She liked lounging about in fields, playing games and making flower crowns, whereas Luke couldn’t think of anything worse. He’d much rather spend an afternoon sparring, or at archery, or even swimming in the lake.

All the things you liked to do.

He tried to push the thought to the back of his mind. He shouldn’t be thinking about you, not whilst another girl was clamouring for his attention. It was cruel. But he couldn’t help himself.

And eventually he gave in, switching off from the conversation and settling for observing you through the flames.

Your hair was down right now, like it only ever was at dinners and in the early morning. You lounged back comfortably on the benches, smiling lazily and joking around with Clarisse and Silena. Your face was lit up by the flickering flames, complimenting you so well, like they just wanted to be near you, close to you. He couldn’t blame them.

And then your eyes met his across the fire, and he thought his heart was about to combust with the way you smiled at him. He recognised that smile. It was the one you reserved just for him.

At that moment he steeled his resolve to reject this Demeter girl, grab on to you and never let go.

But as he was about to do just that, he felt a slender hand wrap around his bicep, and he turned to the blonde girl next to him. And without any warning, she reached up and kissed him, snaking her arms up and around his neck.

He pulled away after a second, shock written all over his face. He quickly whipped around, looking to see if you saw that, praying that you hadn’t.

But you had. And you seemed just as shocked as he was, except there was something else in your eyes. Hurt.

Why were you hurt?

As you walked away from the campfire, you couldn’t help but ask yourself the same question. Why were you so hurt?

You had known for years that your pathetic crush on Luke would never amount to anything. He was just way out of your league. Perfect in every way.

He was so smart, and kind, and funny, and well-liked, and you just couldn’t compete with that. You were rough, and mean, and cruel, and angry. Why would he love someone like you?

Of course, you hadn’t seen the daughter of Demeter coming. But maybe you should’ve. She was everything Luke should want in a girl, gentle, sweet, feminine. Someone fit to be a girlfriend.

And let's face it. You were much more skilled in matters of the sword than matters of the heart.

You had always known this day would come. Eventually you’d have to let go of your best friend and come to terms with the fact that you weren’t the most important person in his life anymore (besides Annabeth).

So why were you so devastated?

You reasoned that it had to be the shock. Yes, it was surprising, that’s why you were reacting like this, running away from the campfire like a child, foolishly hoping that he would come running after him, when of course he wouldn’t. He’d stay with his new girlfriend.

“Hey!”

You whipped around, shocked to see the very boy you were just pining after running up to you.

“What?” You asked, snapping at him slightly, and immediately regretting it as he took on the look of a kicked puppy.

“Why’d you run away from the campfire?”

“Just needed some air.”

“You sure? I mean you look kinda-”

“I’m fine! Just fine! Now you can go back to your little girlfriend and leave me alone!” You burst out, waving your hands around manically.

He looked shocked by your sudden shouting, probably because you had only genuinely been angry with him about three times in your whole friendship.

“Sorry. Just give me a minute, ok?” You said, your voice shuddering slightly. God it was pathetic, getting so worked up over a boy? You wanted to crawl into a hole and die. You then turned around and began to walk away, but didn’t get far before a hand grabbed yours pulling you back.

“She’s not my girlfriend.” He said firmly.

“What?”

“She’s not my girlfriend. I don’t even really know her name.”

He then apparently realised how that sounded, because he quickly amended his statement.

“Not like that. What I’m trying to say is that I don’t like her like that. She just kinda grabbed me.”

You stammered slightly, trying to regain composure. Right now you looked like a jealous loser, and while that is what you were, you didn’t want him to see you like that.

“Ok cool. I don’t care, y’know. Kiss whoever you want, man, not my problem!” You laughed although it was painfully strained.

“Again, not what I’m trying to say.” He said, scratching the back of his neck. Nervous.

“So what are you-”

“I’m trying to say I’m in love with you!” He rushed out, holding you by the shoulders and staring directly into your eyes to try and get his point across.

“What?” You whispered, once again not able to believe your ears.

“I said I’m in love with you,” He repeated, slower this time, his voice more even, “I’ve been in love with you for so long, you have no idea. I was only talking to that girl ‘cause I thought I’d never have a chance with you. But then I realised that I don’t want some other girl. I only want you.”

You took in a sharp intake of breath, scanning his face for any sign of insincerity.

“You’re being serious?” You asked.

“Deadly serious.” He responded immediately, smiling sheepishly.

You paused for a minute, before whispering, “I love you too.”

Only then did he finally make his move, holding you gently by the face and bending down to kiss you.

And it was like a piece of the puzzle finally clicked into place. It was painfully cliche, and it felt like you were in some dumb rom com, but kissing him really was like fireworks going off all over your body.

He clearly felt the same way, holding you by the back of the head and pulling you in further, closer, like he didn’t want to be apart from him ever again.

Eventually you both pulled away for air, and he looked at you with a smile of pure joy, until the shock of the whole situation hit him.

“Wait, so you really mean it?”

“I mean, I did just let you kiss me, didn’t I?”

“Good point. Sorry, I’m just a little surprised.”

“Fair enough. I mean, I had no idea you felt the same way.” You laughed, all the previous tension ebbing from your body.

“What, really?” He asked, seeming genuinely surprised.

“Yes, really! How was I supposed to know? Besides, I didn’t think I was really your type.”

At that his eyes practically bulged out of his head in shock, more so than any other time that night.

“Not my type? You’re entirely my type! Not like it matters anyway when you're the most perfect girl I’ve ever met in my life.”

You frowned, “Now you're just lying to me, Luke.”

“No I’m not. You're everything I’ve ever wanted. The only girl I’ve ever wanted.” He said firmly.

You looked at him, still slightly doubtful, but he was determined to fix that.

So he kissed you again, and suddenly all your doubts were swept away in his strong embrace as he kissed you like it was the last thing he ever wanted to do.

“Believe me now?”

“Yeah. And, I guess you’re pretty great too.”

He looked at you teasingly, daring you to elaborate, and for once you decided to stroke his ego.

“Fine. You're the most handsome, funny, charming man I’ve ever met in my life.”

That clearly satisfied him, because a wide grin wriggled its way across his face that you couldn’t help but mirror, because you both knew you meant every word.

“So does this mean you’ll give me a chance?”

“Yes. I’d give you a hundred chances.”

#percy jackson #percy jackon and the olympians #luke castellan x reader #x reader #fluff #romance #minor angst #fanfic #writing #luke castellan #jealousy

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bluecollarmcandtf · 1 month

Text

The New Garbageman

Lance slowed from his run and glanced at the trash compactor sitting outside his apartment complex. He needed to catch his breath, but he hated being so close. The young man gave a disdainful look to the laborer who seemed wholly unbothered by his choice in career. 'Some men are just meant for menial crap like this,' he thought to himself, 'God knows I wouldn't be caught dead doing it.'

The jogger looked straight ahead as he passed, not wanting to make eye contact with the sucker lugging away a week's worth of his building's refuge. Lance thought the smell alone was enough to make him gag, but he was even more disturbed by the garbageman's indifference to the squishy contents leaking all over his clothes.

'At what point is that worker just considered trash himself?' Lance pondered with a grimace.

Just as he was about to escape into the entrance of the complex, a sharp ripping noise sounded behind him, followed by a clamour of things crashing to the ground.

Lance made the mistake of looking back, seeing a huge mess scattered across the sidewalk. It looked like a garbage can had exploded and now there was rotten food and crumpled papers everywhere, but that damn sanitation worker had vanished!

"The hell!" Lance shouted in anger, but his rage didn't last long.

A sudden pain stabbed him in the back and he crumpled to the ground like all the garbage had moments before. Everything went black...

Lance shook off the daze and found himself leaning against one of the garbage bins. The pain in his back didn't feel as acute anymore. All he could feel was an unusual warmth spreading from where he had been stung.

"Where is that goddamn garbage man," he growled, wincing at the litter surrounding him. He was ready to give that idiot a piece of his mind.

He put his hand on the concrete in an attempt to get himself up, but was surprised by the feeling of gloves over his fingers. Lance stared at his gloved palms with total confusion. He was sure as hell that he didn't put those old worn things on!

Then he noticed his shoes. They weren't the sneakers he'd been jogging in moments before. They were some kind of work boots!

"What the hell!" he exclaimed, wondering if he'd actually been knocked out and robbed.

Lance pushed his fears aside and began climbing to his feet, but as he did, he noticed something had appeared over his shoulders!

"Where'd this come from?" he cried, becoming more and more angry as articles of clothing just kept appearing on his body.

He was positive this dirty old jacket didn't belong to him. It was covered with stains and reeked like a public bathroom. Lance had a habit of always keeping his clothes freshly laundered and fragranced. He wouldn't even wear jeans two days in a row without washing them, so what was this raggedy work jacket doing in his back?

Lance frantically started to pull the thing off, but it seemed stuck on his waistband or something. No amount of thrashing could get him to pull the thing over his head!

He moaned in frustration and threw his fists down angrily. Then, he noticed why the jacket wouldn't come off. It took him a second to realize what he was looking at. The jacket was attached to the new pants he had on!

Lance shouted out in a state of confused panic. "Help!" he cried, not knowing what else to do, but even if someone did come over, what would he tell them? They'd never believe that his clothes were magically being replaced!

He couldn't even bring himself to look down at what he was wearing. Gone were his running shorts and tank top. In their place, a gross old jumpsuit had enveloped his body. Lance was struck by the itchiness of the course material, but he was even more horrified by how damp it felt against his skin. He didn't want to know what liquid those coveralls were saturated with; oil, sweat, or something even worse?

Lance couldn't find his phone in any of his new attire's pockets. He didn't know what was going on, but he was about to start screaming if he didn't find out soon. His breathing intensified while his heart raced out of his chest. He could feel the panic attack coming.

Then all of a sudden, he stopped...

That warm feeling in his back had washed over his entire body and told every tense muscle to relax. Lance's heart rate eased and his breathing slowed. The confusion, worry, and panic in his face was gone: a numb expression sat in its place.

Lance didn't understand why he had suddenly become so calm. Internally, he was still disgusted, horrified, and outraged, but he couldn't deny how relaxed his body had became.

Finally able to gain his bearing, the former jogger climbed up from the ground and gave his new outfit another look.

"What the hell is this thing," he wondered, but his voice had a comparatively lifeless tone.

Lance studied the clothing. The boots were caked with dirt and grime. He could feel his feet sweating inside them. In fact, his entire body felt like it was being cooked. He was completely covered from the neck down with some pretty heavy duty work wear. It was all clothing he would never be caught dead in, yet it looked kind of familiar.

Suddenly it, clicked.

"I'm dressed a goddamn garbage man," Lance spoke again with a monotoned voice.

Then his mouth moved on its own, "I am a garbage man."

The words chilled him to the core. He had not meant to say them! That warm feeling that started in his back had moved to his throat and taken over.

Before he knew it, his hands were moving on their own too. They were picking up the trash littered around him! His legs moved to, crawling his body across the concrete, and Lance couldn't do anything to stop himself.

His mouth wouldn't open when he tried! He wanted to scream! His arms and legs weren't doing what he wanted either. He was trapped in his own body! Lance couldn't speak; he couldn't run; he couldn't hide; he couldn't even panic. His own heart beat at a steady pace like he was the calmest man in the world! His lungs systematically drew in breath after calm breath, and his face was locked in an empty look of indifference...

Lance would have to get used to being around the trash. He was a garbageman now...

One Year Later...

Lance had never imagined he'd be trapped as a garbage collector for this long. His body hadn't let him look back once since he walked away from his old life. Who knows what happened to his apartment and family. He'd long since given up on the idea of ever going back to his old life.

His days were now spent being puppettered to take out other people's trash. It was disgusting hard work that he got no thanks for, but that didn't matter. He wasn't in control of his body, and his body just kept lugging rank bags of garbage day after day after day.

He'd been subjected to millions of dirty looks as people caught sight of him. Lance knew he must seem pathetic. He was sure he smelled even worse. How could anyone respect a man like him? Even after a year, his face still burnt red when someone looked grossed out by him.

The discomfort of his uniform has become normal to Lance. It was itchy and humid under there, which made sense since it hadn't been washed in the all the time he'd had it on.

Well, that wasn't entirely true...

Every night after work, his body would hop on the garbage truck and get dropped off at the sanitation department's parking garage. There he and the rest of the garbage crew would hose each other down. It didn't do much other than make him cold, but at least he got that.

After the makeshift shower, he and the rest of the guys would file into the garage. Lance assumed that every one of the laborers were being used as puppets like him, because they appeared just as numb and lifeless as he did. There was no chummy chitchat; there were no friendly waves or claps on the back; hell there wasn't even a smile or frown on any of their faces.

All the garbagemen acted like robotic slaves for unpaid labor, which is exactly what they were.

Lance's theory was that when he'd felt that pain a year ago, he'd had some sort of Syfy-futuritic-techno crap inserted in his back. It had to be controlling his actions. He could feel it on his spine, sending signals to the resto for his body for how to behave.

It was just a theory. He couldn't prove or disprove anything when he had no autonomy over his own body.

So he was stuck seeing himself play out the same awful routine everyday. 'At least the day's almost over,' he thought to himself. At least he could still dream of a life where he didn't wear this disgusting uniform and pick up garbage all day.

Lance's body joined the rest of the men on the floor. This was where they spent their nights. Whoever was controlling them was clearly too cheap to buy them beds let alone showers or laundry machines

It usually got pretty bleak in there: a whole room of men that aren't allowed to talk or interact outside of working together. There was nothing else to do but sleep, so Lance slid down to the concrete and closed his eyes, wondering if he would ever be anything other than a smelly garbageman ever again.

He thought back to his old life, dreaming about that last morning run he'd gotten before all this happened. He fantasized about what would have happened if he'd just ran around the block one more time.

Would he have avoided this fate or was he just destined for menial crap like this?

Thanks for the Ask, workgearfan

#mind control #blue collar #gay mind control #humiliated slave #meat puppets

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politemenacephd · 1 month

Text

The Surrogate: Part II

Miguel O'Hara X Peter B. Parker X GN!Reader (+18) Part one Part Three Series Content: Planned pregnancy, Breeding kink, PinV sex, Oral sex, Threesome, Web knotting, Aftercare, Possible Angst/fluff.

Miguel and Peter want a third child, and apparently they've run out of options. That is, except for you, their friend and colleague. They offer to cover everything, and the pay is life-changing. There's just one catch: they went to concieve naturally.

Notes: Oh boy here it comes time to give the boys a baby

As you approached the HQ you were a ball of nerves.

It was finally time to go in and get started.

After a few months of planning you were ready to begin the surrogate process. The whole process had been pretty smooth overall, almost too smooth. Miguel and Peter had let you hire a family friend as your lawyer, with Miguel paying every fee, and over each month you’d made sure the contract was fair.

You had been hired to be the men’s surrogate until completion, which didn’t have a set date on it but merely ended at whichever point you gave birth and the child was handed over into their custody. They would provide for your needs and health, and you would do your best to conceive for them.

You were allowed to leave at any time, though. It’d been a little difficult working out the details of leaving, especially regarding what happened if you were pregnant and had to stop, but Miguel and Peter had remained respectful. Eventually you’d worked out a plan that compromised what needed to be compromised, and so you stepped into the next phase: the actual conception.

It was a situation you were happy with. You felt safe, and soon you’d have a ridiculous amount of income. Right now, all you had to do was one, fairly simple job: From now until whichever point you conceived, you would be having intercourse with Miguel and Peter.

Simple enough, yes, but God, just the thought of it still made you weak. As you glanced up at their apartment, their windows glowing orange against the darkened skyline, you felt a pinch of nerves.

One of the things you’d agreed, just for the sake of convenience, was for you to move into Miguel’s plush new place at the top of the HQ, alongside him and Peter. Their girls lived with them too, but for tonight at least they were being babysat by a relative, and you’d been assured they had had the situation explained to them in the most child friendly way possible.

Later on things might have to change, but for tonight it was just about working out your dynamic and ensuring everyone was comfortable, and also getting the first attempt right.

It hit you hard, the idea that you might walk away from tonight pregnant with either of their babies. You kept thinking back to Miguel’s confident smirk in the bar, assuring you it wouldn’t take long. Why had he seemed so sure, and why did you so willingly believe him?

You sucked in a sharp breath and made your way in.

Your journey took you up through multiple elevators and beams and staircases as you ascended the HQ, which gave you more time to overthink. By the time you finally reached the apart you were a ball of nerves.

‘Okay… Okay, just, relax’ you told yourself. ‘Relax. Relax. You’re good. You’re all good.’

The moment you rang the doorbell the door swung open, causing you to flinch and yelp. You were met with Peter’s flushed and gleeful face as he threw himself through the door and around your little body, pulling you into a hug.

“HI! Hi, there you are! Oh- looking wonderful, muy bien, come on in!”

Before you could even get a word in he was carrying you into the apartment. Not shepherding, not pushing, carrying. He lifted your body was ease in a bridal carry and brought you through into the open-plan living room and kitchen area, babbling the whole way.

‘Miguel was worried you’d be late- OH, don’t tell him I told you that though, he’ll freak out, but I told him you’d be early and look who was right!”

‘A-Aha, yeah, uh- Peter, please could you—’ You stumbled on your attempt to request being put down as he gently shifted your weight, jolting you in his arms like a cat.

God, he was so strong. Deceptively strong. He felt nice, too. He was warm, toned but squishy, probably nice to cuddle. Perhaps, you didn’t want to be put down *just* yet.

‘Ah- never mind. Hi, Peter’ you said with a slight laugh. ‘I wouldn’t have thought me showing up early was such a surprise, you’re paying me enough for this.’

‘NO! I mean we’re paying a lot sure but it’s all worth it! I was just—’

‘Peter. Put them down.’

That dark, husky voice filled the apartment, rendering you both speechless.

You fell to the floor and immediately spotted Miguel leaning on the kitchen island. You felt your face go warm at the sight, as your chest seemed to tense in on itself.

He was just as pretty as usual, hanging around in loose joggers and an old shirt which left little up to the imagination. You were surprised to see as he moved around the kitchen that he also clearly wasn’t wearing boxers either, because the definition and light swing of what lay underneath caused your throat to seize up.

‘Thank you for coming’ Miguel said as he approached. You nodded hard, now trying your best to look anywhere except his perfectly toned V cut abdomen as it poked out beneath his shirt. He coughed before speaking. ‘Do you, uh—’

‘It’s okay, Miguel. I know you hate small talk’ you quickly said, cutting him off. To your relief you’d read him right; he did that gorgeous little half-smile down at you, his brows raising ever so slightly.

‘Mm. Good, thank you. This is why you’re my friend, hermosa/o’ he said with a throaty chuckle, only for Peter to appear at his back. ‘OUR friend’ he whined. Miguel shot him a bombastic side eye but ended up just shrugging and chuckling again. ‘Mm. Okay. Our friend. Perdón, mi amor.’

You watched slightly stiltedly as the two men butted noses and kissed, just a small peck before parting. You realized that you’d never really seen them being affectionate around the workplace, or even out in public like at the bar, so this was a surprise.

You almost didn’t notice Miguel turning back to you until he spoke.

‘Did you take the injections?’ Miguel asked. You awkwardly nodded.

You’d been given homework to do, mostly consisting of quite painful injections to stimulate ovulation. They sucked, hard, they made you feel awful and they burned when injected, but it was an important step.

‘And you’re ovulating?’ he asked next.

You felt your face burn up again as Miguel leaned in. He took your jaw into his hand and tilted it, seemingly trying to read something in your expression. This wasn’t an unusual move for him, especially with friends when he suspected they were lying, but right now it felt so much more intense.

‘I—yes, I have the app, I did everything on the list. I took the injection, I’m ovulating, I’m in the fertility phase, it- yeah.”

Miguel grunted, slowly retracting his hand. He looked pleased. Despite trying to keep a professional air about you, you felt your legs growing weak at his subtle little smile.

‘Good. I appreciate it.’ He turned and moved over to the counter as you awkwardly stood in the middle of the living room. Peter was still watching you, his face eager. You shyly smiled back at him.

‘So, do we, uh—’

‘Are you comfortable getting right into it?’ Miguel asked, pre-empting your question. You took a moment to decide but eventually nodded. ‘Yeah. I think so, aha, we- we got all night to talk, talk, afterward…’

The way Miguel chuckled at that made your sex throb. It was so sweet, so husky, so *smug*, in a way that was so unlike him. He glanced down at you in a way that highlighted his smooth, muscular neck, his eyes slightly lidded as he smiled.

‘Interesting. You think we’ll get tired?’ he asked.

Was- was he, teasing you? You blinked and swallowed, only to find your throat dry. ‘You... You have to get tired eventually, right?’ you said with a slight laugh, hoping it was a joke. Miguel’s smile widened.

‘Huh. Interesting’ he repeated. He held your gaze until he saw your smile falter, watching that sweet realization hit you that, no, he wasn’t joking. Peter was forced to step in to elaborate instead.

‘Oh no, no, no, Miguel doesn’t get tired’ he said, pridefully slapping the larger man’s chest right over his pecs. ‘Trust me, he will exhaust you. I’ve had to skip school runs because my legs just don’t work the next day.’

You raised a brow at that. ‘Ah… W- then, why are you two even taking turns?’ you asked. The two men glanced at each other. You saw them communicating silently; Miguel arched his brow and grunted, clearly implying something, as Peter raised his brows even higher and grunted back. The two turned to you in unison.

‘Miguel doesn’t get tired per se but he does get… well, empty’ Peter said, being as coy as possible. ‘He needs to re-charge, we both do, so, taking turns? Makes it easier! Plus, Miguel is…’

‘Rough’ he murmured, emphasising that word with such a husky tone. You almost collapsed.

‘Yeah! He is. Oh, you’re a kinky devil you are. I love you so much. But anyway, yes, so that’s why the switch. Hope that’s still okay’ Peter added on at the end, fixing you with an affectionate and open smile.

‘Aha, uh- yeah. Yeah, it’s all good. You guys really want that baby, huh?’ you said, your smile now slowly returning. While Miguel’s smirk turned shy Peter dramatically moaned.

‘We want it SO BAD! The girls are so BIG now, even Mayday can tie her own shoelaces, and all I wanna do is just cradle them in my arms and watch them babble nonsense and pretend to have a full conversation with them when all they can say is ‘babababa’—’

‘Peter.’ Miguel’s hand on Peter’s waist brought him to a stop. You noticed the way he subtly squeezed him. ‘We need to actually get started if you want that baby’ Miguel gently insisted.

At that Peter’s eyes turned to you again. You saw a spark in them you hadn’t seen before, and he quickly held up his hands in mock surrender. ‘Okay! Okay. Baby time. Follow me, pretty thing’ Peter crowed before promptly grabbing your hand, dragging you into the bedroom. Miguel took his time before following in.

‘Okay, so, this is your room’ Peter explained as he flicked on the lights. You were taken aback by how nice it was. The dark, hardwood polished floors with a rug in the centre, highlighting the rich white king-size bed pressed up to the wall. You whistled at the huge, underlit wardrobe doors built into the right side wall, the mirrors on the ceiling and walls, and the glass wall overlooking the beautiful city beyond. It was a glittering cascade of neon lights across a dark canvas, a sight you'd usually never get to see.

‘My room?’ you stammered.

‘Mhm! Well, it’s the guest room, but for now, your room’ Peter crowed. He seemed to be enjoying your gawking.

‘It- what does your room look like then?’ you muttered half to yourself in disbelief.

Peter gently drew you to a stop in front of the bed. When he looked you over he had a slightly mischievous smile on his face. ‘Well, you’ll find out soon enough. Don’t you worry. Miguel, ah- he sells patents for technology he makes on the side back to the city, that’s how he affords everything here. It’s how he funds the HQ.’

You blinked in surprise. How had you not known that? ‘Oh, really? Huh…’

‘And, it’s how he’s gonna fund you, my little angel’ Peter suddenly cooed, pressing one firm hand to your abdomen. He squished it gently, his free arm pulling you into a hug before letting go again. ‘Thank you, again’ he whispered, his eyes deeply sincere. ‘Thank you for doing this.’

You just nodded, a little flustered internally at the sudden affection. ‘I-It’s fine’ you replied gently. ‘It’s, all fine. Thank you for uh, giving me the opportunity? I guess?’

His mischievous smug grin grew a little wider. ‘Uhuh. The opportunity. Speaking of which, shall we get you undressed?’

You felt that warmth thudding in your lower abdomen increase alongside your heart rate. You nodded. ‘Yeah. Yeah, of course, ah—’ You paused only to watch Miguel slowly enter through the bedroom door, gently shutting it at his back. He gave you a curt nod, essentially bidding you to continue. ‘Yeah. Let’s, do that’ you finished, before gently grasping your shirt.

You struggled to remove your clothing while the two men watched. Peter tried to be polite by looking to the side and whistling but you could feel his eyes drifting back, his whistles occasionally lowering in pitch as he stared before shifting back up. Miguel, however, kept his eyes firming on you.

You were surprised, as you undressed, to see his shaft already twitching beneath his joggers. The fabric was pitching to accommodate the size, and his eyes were fixed on you, roaming without shame or concern. Was he getting off on just this? The thought made you so giddy.

The moment you were naked Peter rushed in to pick you up and carefully lay you down on the bed. ‘You doin’ okay? You still good to go?’ he asked, his brown eyes wide and gentle. His care was a comfort, with his hand brushing your forehead and his soft, brown eyes fixated on your face. You shakily nodded.

‘Yeah. Yeah, I’m- fine, I’m ready.’

‘Good! Good. Okay, big guy, you ready?’

As Miguel approached, your breath hitched. He was eyeing you up with those wolfish eyes. They were such a deep red they seemed to glow in the dim, peaceful ambiance of the bedroom. ‘Mm. I’m ready’ he replied.

He stripped his shirt aside and yanked down his joggers, carefully kicking them aside to reveal his fully naked form. You audibly squeaked. He was huge.

The suit didn’t leave much to the imagination, apparently. He was hairless spare for a soft, thin line of dark hair running up his pelvis and a scattering on his lower legs and upper arms, leaving you a good view of his body. His skin was rough, scarred, with many lines overlapping over his rippling abs and hefty chest. His waist tapered in above his slim hips before sloping out into his heavily muscled thighs, both thick and slender.

And then, of course, your eyes drifted to his pelvis. His cock was gorgeous, there was no other word to describe it. Thick, veiny, perfectly curved. You had a sudden knot of anxiety over trying to take such a thing, but the soft throbbing in your clit urged you to ignore that thought.

He must have noticed you staring as he allowed a ghost of a smirk to creep onto his face.

Miguel clambered up and knelt on the bed, with his clawed hands resting on your own upturned knees. You squeaked a little as he curiously shifted them apart, noting the sight of your spread form. You suddenly felt extremely shy to have him gawking at your spread sex so curiously.

‘Oo, he likes you’ Peter cooed, still stuck in his teasing, flirting stage.

‘W-What?’ you stammered. Miguel shot Peter daggers with his eyes, imploring him to be quiet, but Peter couldn’t be silenced. ‘He likes you. That face he makes, with the eyes. They get a little bit brighter when he sees something he likes. I notice it when I wear anything too tight, it's like a… like a cat locking onto a mouse.’

‘Peter’ Miguel hissed, his fangs now bared in a desperate attempt to claw back his professionalism and ideally his dominance. Peter just chuckled. ‘Sorry’ he whispered. ‘I’ll be quiet.’

‘Yes. You will’ Miguel grunted, before finally turning back to your spread body. Now you could see it; those wolfish red eyes, darting down and drooping slightly as he took in your body. You felt his fingers grip a little tighter around your knees, his lips parting ever so slightly. He was already hard, but you saw his member tight just a little as if he was tensing it.

‘Now… You remember the deal, with intimacy?’ he asked softly.

‘Y-Yes.’

‘You are still comfortable with the terms we agreed?’ he asked, his voice softening even more.

‘Y-Yes’ you repeated. You caught him licking his teeth as he nodded.

‘Okay. Then the same rules apply. We'll be gentle this first night, just- the basics, to get you used to it. Your preference is oral, so, I will perform that to make insertion easier. Peter will ensure you’re comfortable throughout, and I’ll use my tongue to make you orgasm and also to loosen you up. Is that okay?’ Miguel explained. You just barely remembered to nod; the grip of anticipation was squeezing your guts like a fist.

It was time to start.

Miguel gestured to Peter with his shoulder and the man nodded, with the two moving in unison to either side of your torso. Peter settled on his side with his head by your own, his hands trailing over your chest, while Miguel sank down onto his belly with his head between your legs. Your legs twitched a little as you felt his hot, lurid breath hit your spread lips.

‘Y-You guys seem, pretty confident in your technique, huh?’ you said. You were struggling not to stutter.

Miguel didn’t respond; he just shot you a glance. You nearly buckled beneath the confident grin on his face. ‘Oh, we’re- quite confident’ he promised. As his mouth vanished behind the slope of your belly and sex, Peter gently gripped you tighter.

You felt the breath. You felt his lips brushing your inner thigh. You felt his groan, his tentative lick.

You tensed so hard it hurt. Here goes.

‘Okay, gently now, gently—’

‘AH—’

You couldn’t help it; the moment that flat, wet, rough tongue hit your clit you gasped and moaned, your hips arched involuntarily to try and get closer. Almost immediately Miguel responded with a muffled moan of his own.

In seconds that quiet, friendly façade fell apart. Miguel gripped your hips in his clawed hands, his talons just barely piercing your skin, and he began licking at you ravenously while Peter groaned in your ear.

‘Oh, there we go, good little thing, well done’ Peter whispered, urging you to moan again. Miguel was grunting as he buried his tongue against your clit, lapping and circling and sucking where he could. His breath kept hitting that sensitive nerve spot in rapid pants, either in grunts from his nose or in pants from his mouth, and every time it made you buck and squirm.

‘F-Fuck, ah- o-oh my god’ you stammered breathlessly. You knew it was coming, but you hadn’t been expecting this. You lay back and practically melted as Miguel lulled you with his mouth.

‘Oh, yeah, that’s it’ Peter murmured to himself. His eyes were fixed on your spread legs as Miguel hungrily lapped at your wet folds, his glowing eyes and sharp nose the only part of him visible as the rest buried itself into the nook of your lips. He absently started to palm his own cock beside you.

‘Oh, you both look so good’ he groaned. His sweet, encouraging praise in your ear only stirred you up further. ‘Go on daddy, give ‘em some more.’

With a soft growl Miguel tipped your hips back, holding you in place as his enormous, rippled shoulders forced your legs further apart. He spread you with his fingers and began gently snaking his long tongue down inside your cunt, pumping you with a good wet inch or so until you were audibly screaming.

You could feel his satisfied grunts vibrating through to your insides as he continued to prob them, slathering you in saliva and venom until it dripped onto the sheets below.

‘Miguel- f-fuck, ah—’ Your muffled gibberish words caught Peter’s attention, who reluctantly stopped rubbing himself to that gorgeous display and instead stroked your cheek.

‘You okay, sweetheart?’ he whispered. You shakily nodded.

‘Y-Yeah, I’m- I’m, great, just- a-ah, fuck, Miguel!’

Peter’s concern turned to soft chuckling as he realized you were just unbearably overwhelmed. He leaned in and kissed your jaw, his lips brushing up towards your ear. ‘Mm, he’s good, isn’t he? The best. I know what he can do with that tongue, and he must think you taste good to get that deep. Thanks for letting him practise, you pretty little thing.’

You could barely hear Peter’s filthy mouth over the drumming of your own heartbeat.

It wasn’t long before the sweet motions of his tongue stretching you out drew you toward your climax. He’d switch between sucking your slit and stretching you out until the double stimulation tripled over in your gut, tipping you right over into orgasmic spasms, and with the smuggest eyes possible he watched you squirming on his tongue as he tasted every second of it.

Peter was quick to soothe you, but Miguel had only been emboldened. He had a job to do, and he wouldn’t stop until it was done.

You caught a glimpse of his jaw as he withdrew, shimmering with your slick like a pearly sheen. He made eye contact once, his eyes a dark and bloody red, and with your unblinking attention he wiped his face with the back of his hand only to lick it off again. You could only whimper in response.

While you panted and tried to catch your breath Miguel began slowly mounting from the front. You looked up and watched those dark, foreboding eyes peer down at you from above.

‘I will, try to be gentle’ he said. You could hear the desperation behind his soft words. The man was twitching with excitement, his veiny cock already peaking thick drops of pearly pre-cum as he approached. You could see his tongue pressed to his teeth, his lips parted so he could pant.

You hadn’t expected him to be so aroused by this. You’d expected he just wanted this for business purposes, but you were starting to realize he might just be fulfilling something more here.

He spoke, then, and fully confirmed your theory.

‘Time to get you pregnant’ he breathed, his voice husky and wet, dripping with a deep and erotic urge. Peter chuckled. The man was also biting his lip, clearly enjoying the display his partner was putting on.

‘Miguel thinks he can get you pregnant first go’ Peter whispered in your ear. Miguel shot his partner a glance and ever so slightly curled his lip.

‘That’s because I can.’

You shuddered at his confidence, as did Peter. You were both brought to your metaphorical knees beneath the intensity of those bloody red eyes. The man reeked of potency, and when he spoke, you didn’t doubt him.

With you both now silenced Miguel settled himself down, easily spreading your legs with both hands to make way for his body. He leaned in and bent your legs down with him, pushing them into a mating press. He saw the rush of adrenaline in your face, the mixture of nervous fear and excitement. His eyes softened a little.

‘You okay?’ he murmured. You nodded just a little too fast.

‘Y-Yeah. Yeah, I’m—fine.’

He nodded back. His eyes darted over you once more to ensure you weren’t too tense, too stressed, before pressing a quick kiss to Peter’s jaw. The two didn’t need to share words. Peter leaned back with his arm around your head, and Miguel in a planking position pushed down towards you.

You watched his cock approaching with bated breath. That thick, veiny rod disappeared down between your thighs, leaving you with only the sensation of his member nudging at your wet pussy. You bit your lip and braced.

With a soft grunt, Miguel started trying to enter you.

At first, he simply couldn’t. He pulsed at you a few times, smearing your cunt with pre-cum as he tried to ease your muscles aside, but he couldn’t get more than a few inches in. The size difference was just too clear.

He wasn’t angry with you. You could see him fighting his impatience for your sake. Peter was left to soothe your gabbled apologies with promises that it was fine, they had time to try, while Miguel shifted to using his fingers instead.

‘My fault, should have—done this first, hermosa/o. It’s my mistake.’

You gasped aloud as he worked his calloused index finger inside you. He pushed right up to the knuckle before brushing your g-spot, admiring the way you bucked and moaned, before switching to lightly pulsing it in and out of your cunt.

All too soon his finger was sopping. He noted the thick strings of slick accumulating on his thick digit with a sense of pride, and slowly shifted to two. You moaned again, louder this time, and seemingly unable to help himself Miguel began leaning into it. He started pulsing harder, his eyes fixed on your hips as they pathetically rocked against his hand.

‘Mm, there we go. You like that? Is that good?’ he purred. Your moans vibrated through his soul, fuelling his ego. He slowly started fisting his cock as he watched.

‘That’s it’ he whispered to himself. ‘That’s it. Ah—I’m going to breed this. I’m going to breed this. I’m going to put a baby in there, sweet thing.’

His hand was making the most obscenely wet noise at this point. The heavy clap of his wet fingers was all that covered up his lewd mantra.

‘My baby’ he grunted, almost growling. ‘My baby, plumping you up, urgh—’

He made it to three fingers before becoming too desperate to wait. He pulled out his hand and quickly let Peter lick them clean, giving his partner just a little attention as he whined and licked your juices into his mouth, before pushing your knees down and mounting again.

This time, it came easy. He pushed into you with one hard grunt and let you feel every single inch slipping up to the tightest point, only stopping once he’d fully bottomed out. You screamed.

‘Urgh- uh, fuck, argh- so tight’ he panted. He didn’t waste time on soaking in you, as with a mind that utterly fixated all he could think about now was getting you stuffed with his seed. He started to pump his hips back and forth the moment he got inside.

‘That’s it, that’s it’ Peter whispered, getting you warm and comfortable as he watched his partner's enormous form rutting between your legs. He noted your wet lips and desperate moans, ensuring that you were enjoying yourself. ‘There, does he feel good?’ he purred.

‘Y-yea—yeah—y-a-ah—’

You couldn’t even get the words out. You were almost mewling as Miguel bent your back and started arching his hips, smacking them down onto your cunt with such terrifying vigor it almost made you wince. He was grinding up inside you, pulverizing those sweet, gummy walls, slipping against every soft ridge he could find.

His lips parted and he started to grunt with each rhythmic thrust, emphasizing the harsh slap of skin on skin with his own noises. ‘Uhn- uhn- uhn, que rico- uhn-’

It took you a little getting used to, settling into the rhythm of his body and his thick cock gently stretching you out. His claws on your knees were sharp, his breath on your face so hot that you started to sweat, and the power in his body was terrifying. He had to force himself to be careful with you. Every deep plunge into your cunt, each gentle pulse, could turn into a back-breaking move if he wasn’t careful.

He eventually had to lower his hands to the bed to stop himself from clawing at your knees. You lay back and tried to focus on the sensations. The warmth of his cock moving inside you, thrusting right up into your guts until your body began to grow flush with warmth. The wet slap of his hips as you began to coat his pelvis in thick, viscous slick. The beautiful sight of his inhuman body rippling between your legs.

‘F-Fuck’ you whimpered, unable to handle anything more. ‘F-Fucckkkk…’

Peter remained at your head as Miguel pumped. He was so gentle, soothing you and petting your face as your body was jolted back and forth.

‘A-Ah—’

‘Good, that’s it. You’re doing so good’ Peter whispered.

‘I’m close’ Miguel growled. His claws began tearing the sheets apart as his thrusts tripled in strength and speed, slamming into you repeatedly until the bed began to creak beneath the force. You could hear the springs giving out, and even the wooden base sounded like it was groaning at the strain. Your hips were numb at this point from his rough pumps, but you ate it all up.

It was utterly orgasmic, the sensation of being filled and fucked so thoroughly. You lay back and moaned your assent for him to finish.

‘Así así’ he praised breathlessly as he saw you give in, his tongue slipping as he felt his body tensing up to unload. It was pure heaven, almost rapturous for him. Finally, he got to do this, fulfilling the most primal itch in his brain. He clawed the sheets to shreds as he rutted and humped to completion.

‘Mm- mm- Así así, hermosa/o, lo necesito, lo necesito- ah, ay chingada- haz que me corra—!’

With a groan that echoed through the room he felt his muscles tense and unload, his cock swelling before finally spurting those terrifyingly thick ropes into your cunt. It was thick enough for you to feel it as it squished into every inch of space, coating your insides with his imprint, all while he panted and groaned against your cheek.

You felt every pulse, every gently expanse and release, as it hit both of you in waves; he’d just cum in you, for the first time, and if he got his way you’d soon be pregnant for real.

‘Ah… a-ah, that’s it… that’s it…’

You noticed his arms shaking as he slowly rocked to a stop. You could still feel him twitching a little as he stilled, throbbing against your overstimulated walls. He glanced at you from beneath his mop of sweaty hair, and gave you a soft smile.

‘Eh, hermosa/o…. There you go. That should do it…’

As you both collapsed Peter rushed into soothing both of you. He kissed Miguel’s jaw and cheek and lips, whispering how well he did and how beautiful his baby would look, and he stroked your forehead while whispering what a good job you did.

His attentive aftercare really was wonderful, but after a few minutes of soaking to ensure his seed had taken Miguel pulled out, and Peter switched tones. After all, you weren’t done yet.

‘My turn?’

You were too busy panting to reply as Peter swapped places with Miguel. All you could do was moan.

You watched Miguel sink down to his knees at your head. He was wiping sweat from his forehead, still panting, but he used what energy he had left to continue Peter’s work. He brushed your cheek with his calloused thumb as Peter carefully eased your legs up.

‘Shh, there you go’ Miguel purred in that deep, warm voice. ‘He’ll be gentle, don’t worry.’

‘I’ll be gentle, but be aware you- may cum again’ he said with a shrug as he shifted you into place and mounted from the front. You felt the brush of his member up against your clit and quivered, something that made him eagerly bite his lip.

‘Guey, don’t get too arrogant’ Miguel grunted back. Peter leaned in hard and kissed Miguel on the mouth, even licking his fangs before withdrawing. You’d never seen him so confident.

‘If you didn’t want me to be cocky, you should have stopped telling me how good I am’ he teased, before gently and slowly easing his cock inside you. Your breath almost immediately hitched.

Peter wasn’t as rough, but he shared Miguel’s ability to roll and rock his hips in just the right way. You could feel him intelligently sliding back and forth, snapping his thrusts in just the right way to stimulate every spot he needed to.

You could still feel the dull thud of him hitting at your tightest point, like a sharp pump right up into your guts. You instinctively grabbed at his biceps for support, something he eagerly encouraged as he started to get harder.

‘That’s it’ he whispered against your forehead. ‘That’s it. You take it just like that. You like it, don’t you?’

You didn’t even reply; he didn’t need you to. He bent you back into a near circle as he got down on his knees and pumped you until you drooled, manipulating every little soft spot on your body. He knew just how to curve his cock into your sweet spots, just the right angle to pull back and start carefully bobbing his hips in place so he was carefully rubbing one point rather than pulsing back and forth.

He let you scream, let you involuntarily shake in his grip, let you stare at him in shock, all with that same dorky, confident smile.

‘Mm- I can feel you in there, big man’ he grunted, eagerly biting his filthy tongue as he pumped in and out of your cunt. He made sure to make you clench him before speaking again. ‘Mm- so warm. You did good, beautiful man. Shame I’m just- using you as lubricant to finish the job.’

Miguel audibly hissed, a seemingly involuntary motion as he quickly tried to clamp his jaw shut, but Peter seemed to relish in the display. You felt him throb hard against the walls of your cunt as he started going faster.

‘Mm- that’s it, that’s it, come on—’

You felt Miguel settle as your body was being jolted back and forth, and you caught his glowering eyes glowing a little brighter as he watched. He was fixated on the little slither of Peter’s shaft he could see pumping back and forth, utterly saturated in both your click and his cum. You caught him biting his lip as his eyes narrowed to slits.

‘Mm..’ he grumbled. ‘Yeah…’

‘Come on baby, come on, that’s it, fuck—’

With a few hard, deep thrusts Peter unloaded his own thick ropes, tenderly cupping your hips as he pulled you in against him. The dull smack of your pelvis’s colliding filled the room alongside your frantic moans.

It was there, right in the middle of Peter’s orgasm, that he fulfilled his promise. He shifted his thumb to your clit and gave the swollen, sensitive nub a few gentle prods, all while deliberately creaming around your g-spot, and with a shudder you groaned into your second orgasm.

‘Yeah, that’s it, oh- well done’ he praised, still breathlessly thrusting. ‘Go on, that’s it, draw it all up. Good, good, well done, baby, well done. So proud of you.’

He let you whimper and spasm around his cock until your body went limp, and after soaking in you for another few minutes he pulled out and collapsed next to Miguel. The sound of your overlapping panting filled the otherwise silent apartment.

‘Good job’ Peter repeated after catching his breath, giving a slightly shaky thumb up. ‘Good everyone.’

‘Peter please shut up’ Miguel replied.

You got a good half an hour of rest, just lying in a sweaty, exhausted pile together as the city soundscape filled the silence.

You used the time to contemplate your position. So, this was it. You’d done it. From this point on, you could very well get pregnant.

You were still in a bit of a daze over how good it was. You knew they were attractive, you knew they were charming and charismatic and endearing, but this? You felt like your soul had been dislodged by one too many hard thrusts. You could still feel the imprint of both men’s shafts, the ghost of their throbbing members against your cervix.

With a sigh you let your eyes drift shut. Perhaps this would be a far more enjoyable experience than you expected.

You felt rather than saw Miguel moving. You thought perhaps he was getting water again, but you were surprised to feel his huge, clawed hands splitting your legs apart again. Your eyes shot up.

That dark smirk filled your gaze, as did those beautiful red eyes. You watched his shoulders roll, his muscles rippling in the beautiful neon light, as he lined himself up with your cunt again.

‘Ready to go again?’ he purred.

All over again, the knot in your gut began dragging you down. Your pulsing clit hadn’t had enough, and clearly, the two men hadn’t had enough either.

This was going to be a long night.

#miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara fanfiction #miguel o'hara x you #miguel x reader #spider man 2099 #miguel o'hara smut #miguel o'hara imagine #miguel o'hara x y/n #miguel x peter #atsv peter b parker

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neuvistar · 1 year

Text

CAN’T SEEM TO GET ENOUGH OF YOU.

— featuring . alatus / xiao, shikanoin heizou, kaedehara kazuha, wanderer / scaramouche, albedo x fem!reader (all separate)

— warnings / content warnings . nsfw. titplay (scaramouche), scaramouche loves titties foreal, fingering (kaedehara kazuha), slight dacryphilia (kaedehara kazuha), vaginal sex, oral (f!receiving, alatus / xiao n m!receiving, shikanoin heizou), pussy!drunk xiao is my reason to live, mentions of breeding, use of nicknames, overall suggestive content. please let me know if i missed a few ໒꒰՞ ܸ. .ܸ՞꒱ა || 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT.

✦ ALATUS . XIAO

there was nothing xiao wanted more than to keep you all to himself, only him. there’s nothing he craves more than you, he’s never felt this way before with anyone, nor has he ever wanted to feel this way towards anyone else, but you managed to change all of that. archons, it’s something about you that just frustrates him, his mind does this to himself. there is nothing xiao loves more than sliding your cute panties down your legs, or even pulling them aside to get his tongue deep inside licking and providing you with pleasure, running your hands through his hair, pulling and tugging at it. it’s just so so good.. he can’t seem to stop no matter how much he tries telling himself to do so.

“x—xiao..!” you sobbed, opening your thighs more for him, knowing exactly what you wanted. he wanted this as much as you do, so eager whenever he eats you out like this, hands keeping a firm grip on your thighs and keeping them spread out for him. he felt your wet juices on his chin, too lost in pleasuring you that he didn’t even notice the harsh grip he had on your thighs. “x—xiao.. please! too much.. hah!” your legs shook under his grasp, starting to give in so easily until xiao kept them up, sucking and licking at your pussy at a more quicker pace. you sucked in a short sharp hiss of breath, whining as you threw your head back, reaching your orgasm. he pulled away, licking his lips clean before leaning over to caress your cheek. “you.. you do all sorts of things to me, [name]. you make me feel things. you have no respect for the ways of the adepti, do you?” leaning back down once more, giving your pussy a few kitty licks. “closer. i haven’t.. gotten enough of you yet.”

✦ SHIKANOIN . HEIZOU

“that’s it, good girl.” heizou’s chest heaved, running his fingers through your hair as he tugged on it lightly, pushing you more down on his aching cock, mouth engulfing him completely. your mouth worked wonders on his dick, licking him at all the right spots, bobbing your head up and down, taking him deep in your throat. “slow down there, princess. wouldn’t want you to struggle now, do we?” you couldn’t help but furrow your eyebrows at him, you just wanted to shut him up right then and there. fuck.. you felt and looked so good though, mouth wrapped around his cock and taking him so well, archons if only you could see what he was seeing right now.. you looked so hot under his gaze, he wanted to push you off and place you on the table, fuck you completely stupid, breed you and fill you up to the absolute brim.

you pulled away from him, a string of saliva connected from his cock to your mouth. pressing a thumb on his tip, you licked your lips clean as heizou’s body shivered at the cold air. you laid on his thigh, grinning ever-so innocently at your boyfriend, stroking his cock at a painfully slow pace, planting kisses on it as you went on. the detective chuckled, taking your chin in his hand bringing you up to him, stealing a kiss from you before shoving you down on his cock, thrusting himself in your mouth. “that’s right mhm.. thats fucking right, taking it so so well like a good girl you are, huh? fuck.. hn. you feel s’good.” you whimpered, fingernails digging into his thighs before he reached his point, cumming inside your mouth as he pulled away, finishing on your sweet tits. “there you go princess, not that hard wasn’t it?” “mmnf.. m’mad at you.” “now now, don’t give me that.”

✦ KAEDEHARA . KAZUHA

“k—kazuha.. zuhaaaa mmh—“ you moaned as kazuha continued to fuck you with his fingers, pumping them rather quickly, leaning down over to you, pressing his lips against yours as you whimpered when he slid his tongue inside, moaning into his mouth. kazuha devoured your lips with passion yet he was still so rough, he couldn’t get enough of you, the way you sucked his fingers inside, creating more discomfort in his boxers. fuck.. you were so beautifully laid out on the mattress, his eyes wandering around your body, pretty tits displayed infront of his eyes, just for him to see. archons.. your whines and moans are like music to his ears, he’s always loved them, he’s always loved wiping tears away from your eyes. he loved seeing you cry from the pleasure he provided you with. “k—kazu.. more! please.. m’close!” “only because of my fingers? aren’t you a sweet one.” archons.. he absolutely loved the way tears streamed down your face, begging him for more like that.

he chuckled, “you look like a goddess, dearest. so perfect, spread out and lookin’ all pretty for me.” kazuha rubbed his thumb against your bud, eyes rolling to the back of your head as his fingertips reached the deepest parts inside, it felt so so good.. you let out a loud yet cute whine as your cunt clenched around his fingers, juices coating his fingers. swiftly, he took them out of your soaked pussy, red eyes making direct contact with yours as he licked the mess off clean, a deep red blush spreading across your face, pressing your thighs close together, refusing to make direct eye contact with the samurai. shifting closer to you, he eagerly took his dick in his hands, stroking it himself before grabbing your thighs, spreading your legs as much as it could. “no! kazu! m’still sensitive..” you wiped your tears before feeling his hardened cock sliding against your dripping slit. “cmon sweet princess, one more for me. i’ll take care of you, okay?”

✦ WANDERER . SCARAMOUCHE

“fuck, you’re pretty.” scaramouche whispered under his breath, reaching forward and cupping one of your tits in his hands, cheeks flushing at his stare. your head titled back as you let out a soft whimper, hands on your boyfriend’s shoulders. his thumb teased your nipple, shifting forward as he traced his warm tongue over the other nipple of your other breast. he sucked tenderly on your breasts, every lick and moan you let out making it difficult for him to hold himself back as dick hardened in his shorts. he loved and wanted every single part of you, he wanted you.. no.. he needed you. he loved the way you feel, he loved the way his hands would always engulf your tits, he loved the way you squirmed underneath him, archons.. you’re driving him crazy. he pinched one of your nipples with his fingers forcing a loud whine out of your mouth as your back arched slightly, eyes fluttering open as he smirked against your flesh seeing him enjoy himself, what a jerk.

“why are you s’mean to me, quit that!” he shook his head, a small whimper fell from you as he moved slightly above your nipple, biting onto your skin. “s—scara..” he couldn’t keep his hands off of you, his hands ran through your back, then your stomach, then.. inside your panties. “you’re such a slut.. so wet for me, just from all that sucking. are you that desperate for me?” he suckled on your tits while rubbing your aching cunt, arms wrapping around his neck. “cmon, tell me. tell me that you only belong to me. say it.” your voice shook, struggling to bring yourself to say anything due to the pleasure scaramouche was inflicting onto you, suckling at your tits as he brought his hand back up to pinch your nipple, a bit rougher this time. “i—i belong to you.. mnf!” “that’s it, that’s all i wanted to hear from that dirty mouth of yours.”

✦ ALBEDO . KREIDEPRINZ

originally, the plan was you let your boyfriend examine you so he could have more better and advanced understandings of human anatomy, well that backfired. “archons, bedo.. calm down!” your cheeks tinted in dark red, your insides sucking him in which managed to get a groan leave his lips, continuing to thrust into you as his cock was buried deep inside of your cunt, moving in and out so smoothly. “m’sorry, darling. i can’t— ah.. you feel amazing.” he ran his fingers through his hair, wanting to feel more of your warmth around his cock. he stared at your stomach catching sight of a small bulge, turning him on even more as he picked up the pace, slamming his hips against yours roughly biting his lip to hold back moans that were threatening to leave his throat. every roll of his hips against yours made your eyes roll back, tongue lolling out like the desperate sweet girl you are. “fuck, bedo..”

“archons..” the blonde moaned throwing his head back as he held his chin covering his mouth with his eyes shut, loving the way your pussy sucks him in so easily, making it easier for each snap of his hips. he hid his face on your neck, planting a couple kisses on there as you whined like a desperate bitch in heat at the sudden change in position, albedo pushing and locking your legs on the mattress beneath, allowing him to easily slide his dick inside you. your pussy dripped and soaked in your juices as sweat ran down your body, feeling albedo release inside of you. “fuck.. fuck.. more of you, darl’, give me a few more minutes..” “o—oh!” albedo forced himself deeper in your pussy, cock twitching at the beautiful sounds you were making, pounding inside you a few more times before cumming inside of you again. “bedo..—“ “i am aware you want this more than i do. one more for me, darling. m’gonna make you a mommy, i’m gonna keep filling you up until i’m absolutely certain you’ll carry my children, is that alright?”

I’m gonna be a bit honest with you all, Albedo’s part was my favourite one to write — Maryse

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cleoluvrr · 5 months

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don't fall for monsters (rafe cameron x reader)

it was the ultimate disguise, i really stayed with such a monster

WARNINGS: dark!rafe, mentions of drowning, mentions of past murder, coercion, domestic violence, manipulation, angst

masterlist

your eyes burned from the flashing lights of red, white, and blue. neighbors stood on their porches and peeked through the blinds to watch the commotion, nothing better to do than involve themselves in small town drama. you could feel every pair of eyes stuck on your shivering frame; wet hair and tearstained face a sight to see.

the towel wrapped around your shoulders barely did anything to keep you warm in the cool, fall evening. it was there to keep the water from soaking through your clothes and nothing more. the smell of salt water clung to your hair and the longer you stood there, the more nauseous you felt from the scent.

seeing rafe cameron in the back of a paddy wagon did nothing to soothe your nerves, nor did the distant sound of his father speaking to shoupe just a few yards away. the two men kept sneaking glances at you from afar and made it obvious the topic of the choice happened to be you. rafe, however, never broke his gaze, even when you tore yours away. the fury in his eyes burned through you like a laser and the blowout that would take place at some point or another was inevitable.

you could be sick.

“hey, sweetheart?” a lower-ranked officer approached you cautiously, obviously not wanting to startle you. “do you mind coming with me for a little bit? just need to ask you some questions, is all.”

the older, blonde female officer came into your view for a moment when you side-eyed her, an unwelcome hand landing on your shoulder. she slowly removed it after feeling your sharp gaze on her.

“i have nothing to say.” you replied monotonously. your face lacked any emotion and it probably made her feel uncomfortable from the way she swallowed dryly.

“honey, i know–”

“you don’t know anything, actually.” you cut her off before she could speak any further. “and don’t call me honey.” leaving the cop where she stood, you walked over to the steps of your house and took a seat. she was left standing there like an idiot and you would’ve laughed if you weren’t overcome with the shock of what landed you in this predicament.

rafe tried to drown you.

well, maybe he was just trying to scare you, but there was no arguing against the fact he held you head beneath the water and made sure you couldn’t breathe.

your boyfriend had been lashing out for weeks, taking all his anger and frustration out on you. the only reason you invited him over was to talk about things because you simply couldn’t take it anymore. sure, you two have had rough patches before–but this situation had gotten completely out of hand. you loved him too much to end it, though, so you thought this was the best option.

you expected to get to the bottom of things, not for rafe to confess to you a great sin.

he told you about what happened on the tarmac, how he murdered sheriff peterkin. the weight was dragging him down and he couldn’t keep it a secret anymore–he had to tell someone. you understood, in a weird way. that wouldn’t be something you could carry around either.

you just wished that someone wasn’t you.

how could you walk around knowing the man you love is a killer? he’s the reason his sister is lost at sea, why the entire town was chasing after an innocent kid and not him. it was a mystery to you why he thought you’d take this information well, but the way he reacted when you said you were going to the cops shouldn’t have surprised you.

the moment rafe dragged you out of the back door to the water behind your house, you were sure you’d suffer the same fate as peterkin. when he threw you to your knees and dug his nails into your scalp, roots burning as he fisted the hair with all his strength. you begged him to stop, told him you loved him–anything that would snap him out of it. at some point you screamed for help, and someone had to have heard you from how loud you were. they had to have heard you because one minute you had a nose full of water, and the next you were coughing your guts out in the grass while two neighbors knocked rafe off of you and held him down.

they were the ones that called the cops, not you. your own phone was sitting upstairs in your room, shattered and unusable after being thrown against the wall by rafe.

so here you sat, a bunch of strangers watching your house as the kook king argues with the sheriff about what to do with his son. ward didn’t particularly like rafe very much, but he’d be damned if he let him go to jail over this. you knew this for a fact.

ward would burn every bridge in the country to make sure his family remained at the top. he was willing to let a teenage boy die before letting rafe take the fall for a murder he committed. ward cameron had the money and influence that most people could only dream of, and he knew how to use it to his advantage. if it meant throwing you to the wolves to save his son, he’d cover you in rabbit’s blood and send you to their den on a platter.

“y/n?”

the sound of your name pulled you out of your dazed state, the familiar voice coming from directly in front of you. ward cameron watched you with worry from where he stood, not that you really cared. he could pretend he was worried about you all he wanted, you already knew his true colors.

“are you okay, sweetie? can you tell me what happened?” he lowered himself into a squat to meet you at eye level. his brows met in the middle and he had deep stress lines decorating his aged face. “what’s all this about?”

sniffling, you dropped your head between your shoulders for a moment. you shook it from side to side before meeting his gaze again. he looked confused by the dry chuckle that left your mouth, clearly unsure of how to interpret the reaction.

“what’s this all about…” you laughed humorlessly again, face blank and eyes cold. “your son tried to drown me, mr. cameron–i’m sure you’ve heard what this is all about.”

the silence between you and the older man was heavy with tension. he glanced back at shoupe, who was watching the conversation with scrutiny from afar, and rafe in the seat of the police car. his eyes met yours again, this time worried for a different reason.

you already knew what he was going to say.

“i’m sure it was just a misunderstanding–”

“a misunderstanding?” you repeated in disbelief. “are you serious? look at me!”

his eyes raked over your dampened, disheveled frame. he ran a rough hand through his hair stressfully before speaking.

“look…i know you’re upset right now. i do, really.” ward's tongue pokes out to moisten his slightly chapped lips as a result of the chill wind gently blowing over the area. “but just think about what you’re going to say first.”

“i’m not gonna snitch, if that’s what you’re so concerned about.” you wave him off annoyedly. the cameron patriarch looked at you in shock, like he couldn’t believe the words that just came out of your mouth.

you were pissed. enraged. you couldn’t believe that rafe tried to drown you and it hurt to think about how he was willing to take you out just to keep a secret you never asked him to reveal in the first place. how ward was more concerned about covering his son’s ass than he was about him trying to take your life.

so many thoughts flooded your mind and you wanted nothing more than to take your brain out for a few minutes of peace.

even with the anger and fear that consumed you, snitching on rafe was out of the question. not only because it would never go anywhere, but because deep down; you knew you could never do that to him. you loved him too much, and that truth sickened you to admit to yourself.

before he could speak again, shoupe approached the two of you faster than you could blink. his shoulders were squared and his hands rested on his belt as if he was ready for defense. the man gave ward a long, heated glare before he stared down at your seated frame with a sympathetic gaze.

“everything alright over here?” he questions, obviously accusing ward of something along the lines of witness intimidation with just four words.

“everything is fine, shoupe.” ward doesn’t give you the chance to answer, immediately interjecting as your lips parted to speak. the sheriff cuts his eyes at him momentarily before returning to you.

“i was speaking to the young lady, ward.”

you avoided eye contact with both of the men. you were far too occupied with the chipping polish on your fingernails to bother with whatever strange tension they had between them. the feeling of everyone’s eyes on you made your skin prickle up and you wanted nothing more than to take a shower and pretend this night never happened.

“everything’s fine.” you kicked at the rocks beneath your feet, voice soft and disinterested.

“are you sure?” shoupe did not believe a word coming out of your mouth. you didn’t either, but there was no point in telling him that. “is there a reason i have three witnesses saying they found rafe holding you under the water?”

“nothing happened, officer shoupe. i fell and rafe was helping me–i’m not the best swimmer.”

ward maintained a tense posture as he stood beside shoupe and you wanted so badly to roll your eyes–or scream. you almost wanted to say something just to see the man go pale in the face, but you resisted. it wasn’t because you were afraid of ward; the man was the least of your worries. the idea of rafe going free even if you came clean made you sick to your stomach. that was enough to shut you up.

the two men that helped you were giving their statements to some random officer, and you prayed for the pair of them. whatever happened to them after the lights went off wasn’t your problem, but rafe would certainly handle them in whatever way he saw fit. the knot on his forehead and the dried-blood leaking from his nose would serve as a reminder to get his revenge.

“that’s not what those young men told me, y/n. they clearly saw him doing something to hurt you.”

“it’s dark, shoupe. they didn’t ‘clearly see’ anything.” your eyes snapped up to meet him. the agitation was starting to eat away at you and you just wanted everyone to get off your yard. “i just told you what happened, so what’s the issue?”

“sweetie, you don’t need to be scared of anything–”

you stood to your full height abruptly, both of the older men stepping back from the sudden movement. rafe’s staring was turning your stomach and shoupe’s accent was becoming headache inducing.

“he’s my boyfriend, i’m not scared of him.” you cut him off mid-sentence. it was a lie and you both knew it, but his pushing was irritating you more than ward’s looming presence overseeing the interaction. “i fell, and he helped me. those guys misunderstood–what else do you want me to say? that’s all that happened.”

they watched you closely as you wrapped your arms around yourself protectively. it was getting harder to keep it all together and crying in front of the already unconvinced man isn’t going to help your case at all.

“you guys can go.” you pulled the towel off your shoulders and folded it into a messy rectangle. the wet hair falling down your back made you cringe internally. “i’m sorry y’all came out here for nothing…i’ll try to stay away from the water at night.”

shoupe’s only response was a reluctant nod, eyes glancing over at ward before he stepped away. you watched as he stalked over to the cruiser holding rafe, releasing him after speaking to the officer keeping watch over him. those steely, blue eyes remained on you the entire time they unlocked his cuffs, jaw locked and shoulders tense with anger.

even though you just saved his ass, although it wasn’t your first choice, he was greatly displeased. if ward noticed the way his son looked at you, he didn’t say anything to make it known. the audience that had gathered looked confused at his release, the men that saved you especially so.

with each step rafe took, you could feel your heart skip a beat. dread washed over you. even though there was nothing he could do with the police watching like hawks, you knew something was coming sooner or later. he rubbed at the red marks encircling his wrists from the tight cuffs, but he was totally fixated on you.

it sent a chill down your spine but you couldn’t show that; not in front of all these people.

“baby…” you said cautiously. stopping in front of you, the heat of his body warmed you from a foot away. “are you okay? i didn’t mean for all this to happen.”

you don’t wait for him to respond. rather, you step forward with open arms and wrap them around his lean body, tightly embracing him. you were sure you heard a few gasps in the distance and ward’s breath hitched from his spot a few feet away.

rafe doesn’t hesitate to return the gesture, arms snug atop your shoulders as he rests his chin on your still damp hair. he rocks you back and forth, the swaying motion hardly soothing when you feel the bile trying to fight its way out of your throat.

“i know, princess, it’s okay.” his voice vibrated against your scalp. “i’m sorry i hurt you...i-i wasn’t thinking.”

you nodded your head, humming in understanding. you didn’t believe it for a second, but you just wanted to pretend nothing ever happened. it was easier to live when you didn’t have to think about the love of you life trying to drown you in your own house

“rafe.” ward interrupted the reunion with a stern voice. you felt his head raise to look at his father but his arms remained tight around you. “we need to go now. give the girl some space tonight.”

rafe nodded at his father; you could tell from the way his chin brushed against your skull. his hand took your head into their hold as he tilted it up to make you look at him directly. though there was a familiar softness to his face, there was something in those pretty, blue eyes that unsettled your mind. he leaned down to place a careful peck upon your lips, so gentle that it felt like a breeze ghosted across the skin.

��i love you.” he whispered against your slightly parted mouth.

“i love you, too.” you responded just as softly.

he nodded his head, lashes brushing against the tops of his cheeks. he adjusts himself to lean in close to your ear, preparing to say something just from you to hear.

“i love you so much,” his breathe hits the shell of your ear in a way that makes you tingle. “but i will kill you if you tell anyone. i don’t wanna have to do that, but i will…so don’t put me in that position, alright baby? don’t get involved.”

you nearly froze, but with everyone watching your every move you had no choice but to react calmly and nod your head.

placing a kiss on your cheek, rafe pulls away completely. you wait for him to turn his back before you briskly walk up the steps to enter your own house. you were met with pin drop silence and dim lights when you opened the door, immediately shutting it behind you as you stepped inside.

you barely got the door locked before you fell to the floor in anguish. silent shakes racked your body as you muffled the audible cries with a hand pressed tight against your lips. the wooden frame of the front door was hard and cold against your back. you lost your breath from the strength of your heart-wrenching sobs. if someone pressed their ear to the door you were sure they’d be able to hear the pain and fear spilling out of you. everyone had invaded your privacy enough tonight to last a lifetime and you couldn’t find it in you to care.

he put his hands on you. the same hands he used to murder peterkin with. the same hands he used to hold you beneath the water while you beggar for your life. he kissed you with the mouth he used to threaten you with. used that mouth to tell he loved you before saying he’d kill you. violated wasn’t strong enough of a word to describe how you felt.

betrayed? disgusted?

how could he live a life like this? how could he drag you into his mess and then tell you not to get involved? how could he look in the mirror and not feel like an animal?

then again, you must ask yourself–

how could you let yourself love a monster like rafe cameron?

#dark!rafe cameron #rafe cameron x pogue!reader #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x kook!reader #rafe cameron x oc #rafe cameron #obx2 #obx1 #obx fanfiction #outer banks #drew starkey #obx3 #obx angst

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basicinstnct · 6 months

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spoonfed / suguru geto

word count: 1,181

tags: yandere, drugged sex, non-consensual drug use, forced orgasm, bath sex, vomiting, implied kidnapping, aphrodisiacs, established relationship (LOL)

a/n: “have you ever read sharp objects?” me:

summary: After a night spent at Suguru's, you find yourself in poor health.

It’s all very funny, mostly. You’d felt anxious, but fine going to sleep last night. Then when you woke up, the first thing you did was run for the bathroom. You’d hoped sheepishly to return to bed unnoticed, but naturally when you walked back into the bedroom Suguru was awake, waiting with a glass of water for you.

You’d tried to play it off, but then you threw up again, and again. After, Suguru held you close, told you not to hide your whimpers. He said something then, almost blurted it like he couldn’t help himself.

“I guess you won’t be able to make that work trip.”

That was right, wasn’t it? You’d had a trip, one you were supposed to leave for today, but you didn’t have one anymore, it seemed. Suguru had slid out of bed for a moment, grabbing his cell, telling you there’s nothing to worry about, he’ll take care of it.

Now, you feel like a frail Victiorian child. It aches to stand, to breathe even. You’d hoped to find your clothes, to get out of Suguru’s place once you’d gained a bit of strength. You couldn’t imagine yourself willingly letting him see you like this in a million years, but now it’s happening and you’re hating every second of it. If you could only leave, you’d be able to take an extended break to recover, so you’d be at your best the next time you saw him, if he’d want to see you again.

“You should get back into bed.” You hadn’t even noticed his arrival, which wasn’t surprising. However, instead of being amused, you feel pure dread.

“Um, thanks,” you find yourself trailing off. Has it ever been this hard to put one word in front of the other? “Actually though, I should probably go home. I’ve been here too long and… I don’t want to get you sick.”

“I’ll be fine,” Suguru sighs. He seems to glide across the room until he’s right in front of you, wrapping cold hands around your arms to fold you back into his sheets. You were shaking in the frigid air of your boyfriend’s bedroom but swallowed in fabric you suddenly start to burn. It’s not long before you’re hurling yourself over the side of the bed, desperate to preserve some measure of self control, of decency.

There’s already a trashcan there for you, and Suguru holds your hair back as you empty the contents of your stomach. It’s liquid and bits of apple. You’d been so weak he’d had to feed you himself, bits freshly chopped into small pieces. His hand on your shoulder, moving softly over and over on the same piece of skin.

“I feel sick,” you raise your head as much as you can, ashamed of your condition. It’s Suguru who grabs your chin, lifts your head so you can see his face (or so he can see yours). You find yourself surprised that he looks so… kind.

“Maybe the hospital–“

“Don’t be silly,” he says, smiling, “Like I would let anyone else take care of you. Now, into the tub.”

He carries you there, and against his chest, you can hear his heartbeat through his robe, feel it too. You think it’s racing, but it’s equally as possible that your sense of time is just distorted.

He says nothing as he strips your nightgown off you. It doesn’t even make you blush at this point, and he hums softly at your display of reliance.

The water is hot, so much so that you panic and try to escape, but Suguru’s there to push your shoulders down. Instantly, you sink until the water is just below your breasts. Stagnant, waiting for his next move.

He drops to his knees behind you, probably so you can’t see what he’s doing. It takes more effort than it should, but you turn your head. You’re barely able to see as he pulls out two capsules from what seems like nowhere, and inside are two yellow pills. You hold out your hand, but he gently pushes it away and holds the first one to your mouth. You don’t fight it, or the second one which comes moments later. Then, there’s another glass of water to drink. All the while, he strokes his other hand through your hair. You’re embarrassed that the gesture works to comfort you.

Suguru scrubs your flesh with a soft brush, using the soap you have at your place. You realize that he must have bought it for his. He washes your hair, your face. He treats you with care, but at the same time it feels a bit like a checklist. Once you’re done with one thing, he’s moving on to something else. Still, it’s all routine procedure, until he surprises you.

“Open your legs,” he tells you, and when it takes you too long to comply he does it himself. Then you feel his fingers cup you there. Suguru doesn’t move them; he only applies a bit of pressure you can barely manage. Precise like a surgeon’s hands.

“What are you doing!” You try to be stern but it comes out like a weak moan. You’re so overwhelmed by the illness, by shame of being like this in front of him, that the slightest bit of something pleasurable stuns you.

“Taking your temperature,” he says with no shame, and you’d never believe that’s really what he means to do. “You’re hot.”

“I bet,” you manage to mutter. When Suguru smiles, you realize your lip is trembling.

“In fact, I think I should cool you down.”

He thumbs at your clit, kisses your neck. It takes barely that to wind you up. Quickly, you find yourself panting for him, out of breath doing nothing at all. You’re worried how reactive you’ll be if he makes you come, but Suguru isn’t scared to push you there.

His fingers tease at you, stroking softly, but you whine as he presses harder on your clit and begins rubbing it with soft strokes. Your instinct is to writhe, to shake, but you feel too dizzy with pleasure for any of that.

“This is good, right?” you’re asked, like he doesn’t know. “It makes you feel better.”

“Suguru,” you plead, but it falls on deaf ears.

He leads you towards your orgasm with commands, stay still even though you aren’t moving. Don’t fight, when you haven’t the strength to try. He tells you to kiss him, and you lean your head back to meet his lips. You feel his moan in your mouth, and he coaxes your tongue to touch his. The hand not working you holds your jaw so you’re stuck to him.

You come like that, with his fingers on your cunt. The feeling is hot and muffled. Suguru kisses you the entire time, whispering words in between. He tells you he’s being gentle for you, that it’s nothing you’ve haven’t taken before, probably a hundred times. He’s not wrong, but you still feel worse than ever when he finally opens you up and slips a finger inside.

#my writing #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #suguru geto smut #suguru geto x reader #suguru geto #jjk smut #jjk x reader #smut #if you saw this before no you didn’t!#yandere suguru #yandere geto #yandere

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starry-bi-sky · 3 months

Text

miscellaneous danyal al ghul things

specifically about the danyal al ghul from my post/prompt here and i wanna get my misc. headcanons/thoughts on him (especially in his early stay with the fentons) out here before i make any other danyal al ghul aus

list under the cut because whoops this got longer than i expected. which really i should have expected

the Fentons are unaffiliated with the League, which was perfect for Danny faking his death.

he struggles with empathy. Empathy was not taught nor encouraged while he was with the League, so it's a skill that's been pretty stunted. At 15 he's better at empathizing with people, but he still struggles with it. He's pretty bad at reassuring/comforting people and usually acts as an emotional rubber duck for Sam and Tucker to vent to if need be. He sometimes offers blunt and sometimes mean opinions, especially if its about another person.

Sam and Tucker do not know he's an ex-assassin, they are however, pretty positive that he used to be part of an eco-fascist cult with a focus on martial arts?? They've been helping him tone down some of his more,,, extreme views on humanity ever since they caught wind of his more extreme ideologies.

He and Sam are still avid environmentalists and feed into each other quite a bit. They spend plenty of time at protests and pestering the school into more eco-friendly options.

Dash is not dead on the sole fact that Danny knew he had to lay low in Amity Park and killing someone was not, in fact, 'laying low'.

he did, however, traumatize him when Dash first tried to bully him. Safe to say, Danny is not bullied at school and neither are Sam and Tucker.

Danny didn't make any friends in his first year at Amity Park. He was surly, grumpy, standoffish, more stubborn than Sam, and pretty self-important about himself. Jazz was trying to teach him against these things, but she is a 12 year old unaffiliated with the League. Danny did not respect her nor listen to a word she said. It wasn't until like, year two that he finally started paying to mind what she was saying and slowly started to improve on himself

Sam approached him first, he rebuffed her quite harshly, and then Danny approached her sometime afterward when he overheard her talking about environmental rights. Sam completely ignored him though when he agreed with her, and Danny had to later learn that he needed to apologize for being rude to her when they first met. He did so eventually, and they started to talk more with Tucker and Sam.

Danny's a bit more reserved than he is in canon, although he steadily learns how to act as a regular teenager when he's out in public. He's a bit more friendlier at least, although when he's around Sam and Tucker he drops the act. He still has a somewhat formal way of talking, it's just become more casual after a lot of ribbing from Sam and Tucker. When he's angry or annoyed he starts talking poshly though.

His humor is relatively the same as in canon, if somehow dryer and more insulting at some points

Those rare moments where he gets really pissed usually ends up with him insulting someone in arabic or any of the other languages he picked up from the league. He is the go-to for Tucker's Spanish homework. (Tucker makes that mistake and learns that Danny is a very strict teacher)

while Danny doesn't view the Fentons as his parents, even five years after living with them, he does respect them to some amount. He respects them enough at least that when Vlad Masters comes sniffing around, he is suitably offended on both Maddie and Jack's behalf. And when he finds out Vlad was the one who tried to kill Jack and tried to tell him to renounce him as his father/parental guardian, danny threw a suitably sharp object at him and insulted him quite horrendously

Vlad still wants him as his kid. In fact perhaps even moreso after this.

Danny trains with Maddie to keep up with his training. It's not quite the same but it prevents him from getting completely rusty

Sam and Tucker know that Danny has a little brother, but nothing else beyond that other than Danny cares about him quite a lot and that he got his facial scar from keeping him safe.

Danny cares about Sam, Tucker, and Jazz quite a bit, but he struggles to convey it. Especially early on when he realized he cared about them and like instinct started being harsher to them and more critical of their actions. This resulted in quite a few arguments with Sam and Tucker and Jazz until he got sat down and told outright that the way he was treating them wasn't okay. It's a process he's still trying to unlearn even at 15. He has become kinder towards them as a result, and has begun looking for what they did right rather than what they did wrong.

He harbors a lot of guilt over how he treated Damian in the League, and its a pretty big conflict he has with himself since he's torn between telling himself it was for the best to make sure Damian survived the League, and feeling like crap over how harsh/critical of Damian he was and realizing that he probably could have come up with a better way of training him despite being a child himself at the time. Danny comes to the realization that more than anything, that he just wants to apologize.

His ghost form, specifically is outfit, is a combination of his hazmat suit and his uniform from the league, and he carries a sword with him. He also doesn't know how to react to Dani, honestly. Although it is fair to say that he figures out she's a clone instantly because of her whole 'I'm your third cousin once removed' thing and he freaks out. She spills the beans pretty quickly after that. And Danny is pretty skittish around her - or the equivalent of skittish. Her being younger than him kinda reminds him of Damian, so he's uncomfortable by her presence but learns to warm up to her.

#dpxdc #dp x dc #dp x dc crossover #danny fenton is not the ghost king #dpxdc crossover #dpdc #dpxdc headcanons #dp x dc headcanons #danyal al ghul: exists #me: lets give him emotional constipation :) as a treat #older brother danny #sam+tucker: dude... were you part of a cult???? danny: excuse me? sam+tucker: were you. part of a cult #danny: it was not a *cult--* sam+tucker: oh my god you were part of a cult. that explains sO MUCH #danny is pr morally grey even at 15. he's starting to get the hang of this 'human life' thing though! he thinks.#but he is still the embodiment of that tiktok audio 'why dont we just kill these fucking people' even if he keeps it to himself sometimes #sam+tucker+jazz: dont litter danny: yes of course thats obvious s+t+j: okay then dont *kill* danny: now you've lost me #danny nearly stabbed dash when they first met. more accurately he nearly took off his finger like the train scene from the mummy movie 2 #with alex and that big guard guy who stabbed the table in between his fingers. “woah.” “Tt. i missed”#late night starry posts #not proof read and thus there will prolly be mistakes

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vanwritesfan-fiction · 5 months

Note

Sexting Jack at the studio while you’re in the room with him.

Sexting Studio Sessions

A collab with @harlowcomehome 🤭

Jack was close to finishing his next single, so he invited you to the studio to listen to the demo and get your opinion. Usually when you tagged along, it was just the two of you and was a lot more "intimate". You had lost count of how many times you had been naked in this room. Today it was crowded with producers and other member's of Jack's team, and you were starting to get restless waiting around.

You could tell he was a little frustrated and on edge, feeling the pressure to impress the room, so you decided to have a little fun with him to help him get out of his head.

You excused yourself to quickly go to the bathroom and take a picture up your skirt. It was a stroke of luck that you decided to forgo underwear this morning when you got ready for the day. You giggled to yourself as you sent Jack the pic before leaving the bathroom.

Jack's eyes were on you as soon as you stepped back into the room, following you as you sat back down on the leather couch at the back of the room. Knowing everyone was heads down and focused, you made a point to slightly open your legs wider as you sat down so he could get a peek of the real thing before crossing one leg over the other.

Are you fucking kidding me? Jack mouthed to you as he shifted in his seat uncomfortably, adjusting himself. You laughed to yourself as you saw him start to furiously type on his phone.

"Baby..." you looked down at your phone. "Yes?" you typed back without ever looking away from him.

Angel was trying to get his attention but he was having a heard time focusing on anything but the photo you sent him, his cheeks flushed as he kept glancing down at the screen.

Jack: Don't, I'm trying to work.

Y/N: But you look so sexy today... I love the way those pants hug your dick

Jack's face was beet red as he shoved his phone back into his pocket, letting out a sharp breath as he tried to concentrate on the task in front of him. He groaned as his phone vibrated against his leg, knowing that ignoring you was going to be impossible as his boner pressed agains the zipper of his jeans.

Your breath hitched as you squeezed your thighs together, feeling how turned on and wet you were from your exchange. You stood and walked over to Jack. The room was so engrossed in the music playing over the speakers, no one even noticed you bend down, your lips close enough to graze against his ear as your hand slowly traveled down to his lower back, drawing circles with your nails.

"Stop." Jack gritted out at you between clenched teeth, biting on the inside of his cheek to distract him from how aroused he was. You made sure your voice was low enough so only he could hear.

“I want you so bad”, you whispered, your tongue flicking against his earlobe, sending shivers down his spine.

Jack's fingers were already interlaced with yours, ready to take you to the bathroom when Nemo stopped him. "Jack, we need you in the booth to re-record the second verse. Sound quality sucks." He squeezed your hand tightly, letting you know he wasn't finished with you.

Jack let out a sharp breath as he walked into the booth and slipped the headphones on, waiting for the instrumental to start playing. "What's going on?", he asked as his leg jiggled, growing impatient. Angel's voice came over the intercom. "One sec. Technical difficulties." He pulled his phone out to distract himself, noticing one notification from you. He preemptively adjusted himself to try to conceal his erection, knowing you were up to no good.

Y/N: It’s such a shame that we couldn’t escape for a few minutes, the things I want to do to you are unimaginable. I’m salivating just thinking of your dick, dripping with pre cum.

"I need 15. Figure this shit out." Jack's core contracted, taking his breath away, as he threw the headphones down, walking past Nemo before he could even get a word out to stop him. He glanced over at the couch on his way to the bathroom, noticing your spot was empty.

As soon as Jack laid eyes on you as the bathroom door opened, you were in his arms, quickly pinned against the door with his pelvis, his chest pressed into yours. "Are you proud of yourself?", his nose grazed against yours as he pressed a quick kiss to your lips. "Getting me this hard in public?" You smiled into a second kiss, wrapping your arms around his neck. "Just a little bit."

He pressed a knee between your thighs, forcing you to straddle him. His hands were at your hips, grabbing at the hem of your skirt, bunching it up against your waist. "Need you to be quiet, baby. Don't need everyone to know how good I'm fuckin' you." Jack grinned, knowing that the bathroom was the only room in the building that wasn't soundproofed. "You're so needy."

With his help, you rocked your hips back and forth, grinding your clit against the rough denim, building your orgasm off pure friction. Quiet moans left your lips as Jack latched onto your neck, gently sucking against your skin as you felt your core tighten. Jack could feel the wet spot building on his jeans, knowing you were close to cumming.

Looking down, you palmed Jack's erection, beginning to rub him over his pants. Jack groaned out, pressing his forehead against your chest, as you unzipped his jeans and pulled out his cock, stroking his length, feeling him come undone in your hand. "Who's the needy one now, baby?"

"Turn around", Jack growled, his eyes darkening, pupils blown with lust. You complied, biting at your bottom lip as Jack roughly grabbed at your ass, running his fingers through your wet folds. "Fuck, Jack." You gasped as he lined himself up at your entrance, slowly pushing himself into your pussy, feeling how tightly your walls hugged him until he had bottomed out. "That feel good, baby?" You could only nod, left breathless from his impressive size. You press your hips into him, determined to feel every inch.

With each thrust, Jack was stroking against your g-spot, pushing up into you as you moved your hand down your front to draw circles around your sensitive bud, feeling every muscle in your body begin to tense up. "I'm so close baby, I'm so close", Jack groaned as he felt you clench down around his dick. "I know baby."

With one arm, Jack pulled you back against his chest, changing the angle of his hips, and each thrust almost had you crying from pleasure. "Jack, fuck, please", you whined out, your voice vibrating through you. Tears brimmed in your lashes as he set a furious pace, your orgasm quickly crashing over you. Sounds of Jack's pants filled the room as he continued to fuck you through your orgasm, wave after wave of pleasure continuing to wash over you.

Jack's hips began to stagger as he buries his face in the crook of your neck, cursing under his breath as he comes inside of you, pushing himself impossibly deep.

He lays kisses on your neck as you both come down from your highs, chests heaving in unison with each breath. "Its taking everything in me not to take you home right now." He mumbles against your skin, and you grin, turning in his hold. You lay a few gentle kisses on his lips, caressing the curls at the back of his neck. You take a quick second to make your self presentable before the two of you walk out.

"Wait", Jack stops at your request, watching you grab your phone out of your purse. You take a quick picture under your skirt again, Jack's cum still leaking out of you, dripping down your thigh. You send it off, Jack's phone vibrating in his pocket.

"Incentive for you to get this song done quickly."

#jack harlow #jackman thomas harlow #jackharlow #jackman harlow #jack harlow x reader #jack harlow concepts #jack harlow imagine #jack harlow fanfic

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stellar-skyy · 5 months

Text

COURT GOSSIP — Furina x reader.

i. SUMMARY: Fontaine has a lot to say about Furina's lover. (Now with a part two!) ii. CONTENT WARNINGS: Very very slight spoilers for the 4.2 archon quest, brief use of pet names (darling). iii. NOTES: Angst, reader doesn't actually make an appearance but they are talked about throughout, gn!reader, they/them pronouns used, 2.1k words. iv. A/N: Angst bc i lost the 50/50. This probably isn't as good as I wanted it to be, but I'm tired and I was sick of rewriting things.

They called the relationship a lot of things. Scandalous, shocking, shameless. Shameless wasn’t the right word. Furina had plenty shame, but the taste of love had left her too excited to worry about repercussions. Careless, was more accurate.

If she had more care, she would be home by then, curled around her lover, laying with her ear pressed to their chest so she could hear their heartbeat. She wouldn’t be pacing back and forth and wearing grooves into Neuvillette’s office’s carpet.

“It is going to be alright, Lady Furina. Sit down.” Neuvillette said calmly. He was sitting still, hands folded in his lap, and to the ordinary eye he looked perfectly at ease. But Furina hadn’t spent five centuries with him without learning his mannerisms. The stiffness in his shoulders, the twitch of his eyebrow, the way his words sounded a touch too sharp; it was obvious he was just as concerned as she was.

“It’s not! Do you know what they’re saying?” Furina hissed. She threw the newspaper across his desk, letting it land in front of him with a smack. The photo of the two of them—her arms wrapped around their neck, while they kissed her cheek—took up almost the entire page, only broken up by the title.

Exclusive: Who is Lady Furina’s secret paramour?

“I must say, this is quite a poorly titled article.” Neuvillette frowned, looking closer. “The word ‘paramour’ is archaic by itself, but more than that it already implies a scandalous relationship. The word ‘secret’ is superfluous.”

“That’s not the point!” Furina practically wailed. “Look at what they’re saying!”

“Hmm… ‘Who is this mystery partner, and how did they catch the attention of the Archon herself? Is this unknown lover strategically targeting Lady Furina to attempt to obscure the justice of Fontaine?’ Ah, I see. They believe your partner to be seeking you out to gain influence of the court system.”

“How dare they! To think they would stoop to such a level to accuse my—”

“It is alright. I have already scheduled an official announcement to acknowledge the concerns and quell the rumours.”

“It’s not only that! The people are losing their respect.”

“…I am afraid I do not understand.”

“For me! They—” Furina halted. “I—I heard them today. They think of me as just some love-stricken girl. Archons above—” Neuvillette chose not to point out that she herself was an archon. “I couldn’t stand it...”

⋆ ✩ ｡ ° ✩ ° ｡ ✩ ⋆

It had been a pleasant morning; so pleasant that once Furina had detangled herself from her partner’s arms, she decided to take a walk.

As she strolled through the streets, the sounds of the city beginning its day and the singing of birds mingled together in a strangely beautiful symphony. They competed for the attention of whoever happened to be listening, with songbirds chirping and crooning from the tops of buildings, directly above the sounds of vendors and other salespersons trying to sell their products.

“Fresh lavender melons, straight from Inazuma!” A fruit-seller called, holding a basket filled with bright purple fruits.

Ah, Lavender Melons. They were a fairly new sight in Fontaine, only appearing after trade with Inazuma was reestablished. Perhaps she should purchase a bunch.

“Extra, extra!” a young newsboy yelled out, waving a newspaper above his head. “Read all about the latest Fontaine news, from the Fontaine Gazette! Hear about the case that divided the Chief Justice and Lady Furina!”

The newspapers were always embellished, but the Fontaine Gazette was a particularly egregious example. Not a single word in that paper was without exaggeration. Though, it was entertaining at times to look over the stories and laugh about the incredulity of it all.

She strolled over to listen to the boy’s calls, idly looking past the rows of newspapers and magazines. She withdrew one from the stand, a gaudy looking magazine with bright red headlines screaming in her face.

The Spina di Rosula in shambles! it shrieked. Such a crude form of entertainment, the misery of others. It was good Fontaine had enough reputable newspapers to drown out the crows and calls of garbage like that.

“Extra, extra! Lady Furina has a secret lover? Read all about it here!”

In a second, the magazine in Furina’s hands slipped onto the ground, and she felt her breath catch in her chest.

She had to have misheard him; it must be a terrible mistake. She’d been too careful to hide them from the spotlight, keeping them away from the public’s claws. If they’d been discovered, the media would stop at nothing to tear them to shreds. Not to mention how she’d look if their relationship was found out—the Archon of Fontaine, falling head over heels for a mere mortal.

Furina had snatched the paper right out of the young boy’s hand. As he started protesting, she quickly threw a handful of Mora at him and bustled away to read the paper. Behind her, two ladies gasped and leaned over to whisper to each other.

“Is that Lady Furina?”

“I’m surprised she can show her face… I wouldn’t have the courage.”

Vultures, the lot of them! Had they no shame, gossiping about her from six feet away, like she couldn’t damn well hear them?

Their chatter faded to static and white noise in her ears, as the newspaper unfolded to reveal the story she’d been fearing. In it, the photo showed two lovers were caught in an embrace, one hidden in the other’s shoulder. The other was turned at just the right angle to show herself to the camera, grinning down at her partner with love in her eyes.

Furina stared in horror as her own face stared back at her.

⋆ ✩ ｡ ° ✩ ° ｡ ✩ ⋆

“Furina—Ahem, Lady Furina,” Neuvillette paused, blinking at his mistake. Oh dear. He must be on the verge of a breakdown, if he was already messing up her name. “We must begin the conference soon. Shall we leave?”

“I—I suppose that would be prudent,” Furina said shakily, straightening her back.

The trip to the Opera Epiclese was filled with silence. Furina stared at her hands in her lap, picking at the edges of her gloves, while Neuvillette gripped his cane tightly and periodically shot her concerned looks. The only words that were spoken were after they had arrived.

“Are you ready?” Neuvillette asked, hand curled around the curtain separating their backstage room to the front balcony.

“No,” Furina whispered hollowly, before smoothing her features into neutrality and stepping onto the stage.

“Hello, my dears.” Her lips moved of their own accord; voice disconnected from her mind. “I am here to address some rumours you may have heard. If you have been following the news, you would know that some pictures have been spreading of me and another individual. Since then, there has been a number of gossip floating around the court, very little of which is based on fact.”

“Tch, she’s already trying to avoid the blame.” A particularly loud audience member commented, loud enough for Furina to hear. She hesitated for a moment, before continuing.

“This person is as many have suspected,” Furina breathed out. “A romantic partner.”

“Ms Furina!” A young man—notebook and pen in hand; a reporter, likely—yelled out. Furina bit back the haughty That is Lady Furina to you on her tongue. Arrogance wouldn’t serve her well in this performance. “People have been saying that this ‘lover’ of yours is a threat to the integrity of the justice system. How do you respond to the allegations that they are using you to sway the court?”

“T-That isn’t true! They—”

“How can we trust the Palais Mermonia if the Archon is being influenced?” A voice in the front row whispered loudly to her friend.

“If she’s that weak to the charm of a random person, then what does that say about her judgement?” Another responded.

“I—” Furina stuttered out. “P-Please, calm yourselves! I can explain myself if you just wait—”

“Is this really what Fontaine is coming to?” That pesky reporter yelled out, only stirring the chaos further. The courtroom erupted into noise, all overlapping opinions drowning out any conscious thought of hers.

“Childish—”

“Unprofessional—”

“Not fit to lead—”

“—If she’s so distracted by love.”

If the first words were a punch in the gut, the last were certainly a strike straight to her skull. She flinched, her resolve cracking enough to let the throes of panic wash over her face. It was all too much: the lights, the noise, the audience.

But she was used to commotion. She had been acting for centuries.

In the drama, she had almost forgotten her place; the Court of Fontaine was her stage, and she was the leading actress. The citizens before her were the audience to her performance, and she was damned if she wasn’t to put on a show for them.

With a deep breath, she slipped right back into the façade, smoothing over the cracks in her mask with inhuman poise.

“They say the true tragedy of godhood, is one never gets the chance to live like a human.” Furina smiled coyly, playing up the eccentric goddess act that she had been cultivating for centuries. “So many experiences we are robbed of; growing up, falling in love.”

“You wanted to be human?” An audience member called out. Young woman, nervous expression. Perfect extra for Furina’s show.

She turned to stare her in the eyes, coy grin lighting up her features. “Tell me, dear. Have you ever had a lover of your own?”

“M-me?!” She squeaked. “Oh… I-I haven’t really had a girlfriend. B-But I have been in a… relationship of sorts.” The audience member spluttered and blushed. “A… summer fling, I suppose.”

“Well, wouldn’t I be a fool not to chase a summer fling of my own?” Furina tilted back her head with a laugh, letting her voice boom across the Opera with the confidence that left the audience hanging on her every word. “Oh, my dearest citizens. Do you think so lowly of me to think I’d let a brief bit of romance keep me from my duties? That I would be blinded by something so silly as love?”

“You don’t love them?” Another nervous audience member asked.

Yes, Furina wanted to scream. I love them more than I have ever loved anything in this world.

“Ah, love. Such a novel concept.” She loved them, she did. Oh, how she hoped they would forgive them for this. “The only love I hold is for my people and my nation! I need no lover, when I already have the love of my beautiful Fontaine.”

“I believe we have strayed off-topic,” Neuvillette said, smoothly shifting their attention to him. “The Court of Fontaine retains that this individual carries no influence over Lady Furina, the Palais Mermonia or the Fontainian justice system. This… relationship is something inconsequential that has no effect over Lady Furina’s work, and is not of a concern to Fontaine’s citizens.” Damn right it wasn’t their concern. “To put it frankly, this person is of no significance at all.”

Only Neuvillette was close enough to hear the sharp gasp that escaped her.

“This conference is hereby adjourned.”

They were going to hate her.

How was she supposed to look them in the eyes, after telling an entire courtroom that they were of no importance to her? The love of her life, the one who brought light into the world and a smile of genuine joy upon her face with just their presence. She imagined them watching the court; hearing her words, feeling them strike against their skin like blades.

They were going to hate her, and she would let them.

She would let them hate her, if it meant the public would forget their name. The moment they disappeared from the light, then the rumours would disappear just the same.

And a part of her—a small, barely noticeable, inconsequential part of her, but a part of her nonetheless—breathed a sigh of relief at the knowledge that her balance hadn’t been overturned. It was selfish, she knew that, and the thought disgusted her as much as it brought her comfort. That part whispered that it was for the best, not just for them but for her as well. Her reputation was secure, they were quietly pushed away from the light, and the scandal would die down quickly.

Furina stumbled backstage, stomach spinning. She leaned heavily against the wall, eyes squeezed shut, dreading the moment she would have to go home and face her lover after what she had done.

“Oh, darling.” She murmured. “Please forgive me.”

reblogs and comments are appreciated! ♡

#✒️ — writing #・ nouveau livre ˎˊ˗#favoniuslibrary #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #gi x reader #furina x reader #genshin furina x reader #genshin angst #genshin impact angst #furina angst #genshin impact x gn reader #genshin x gn reader #genshin x gender neutral reader #furina x gn reader #furina x gender neutral reader

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theemporium · 1 year

Note

could i request sirius black with potter!reader where james knows about there relationship but is always dramatic about it

thank you for requesting!🖤

“Oh Merlin, here they go again!”

“For fuck’s sake, Prongs.”

“Somebody hex my eyes!”

“Gladly.”

The bespectacled boy let out a small shriek when he felt a sharp pinch on his ear, squirming in his seat as he turned to glare at the culprit only to find his mother standing behind him, a knowing look on her face that quickly shut him up.

“Stop being dramatic, James, and let your sister be happy,” Euphemia Potter told her eldest child, though it hadn’t been the first time she had said as much and it wouldn’t be the last either. It had been a common occurrence that she would find herself scolding her eldest child over his childish behaviour.

You and James had always been close, both growing up and in the present time. Despite the age difference—though it was not much at all—your brother had always stood by your side and you likewise. When you joined him at Hogwarts, that relationship didn’t change when your friends became his friends, and his friends became your own too.

However, James Potter wasn’t expecting that it would lead to this.

It had been over four months since you announced your relationship with Sirius Black to your brother and he had yet to get over what he called ‘the biggest betrayal of the century’.

“It’s off-putting,” James said with a heavy sigh, slumping back in his seat as he pushed his food around his plate with his fork. “I’m losing my appetite, mother.”

Euphemia gave him a blank look. “You’ll survive.”

“We aren’t even doing anything,” you pointed out to your brother but he just scoffed in response.

“He’s sitting next to you!”

You raised your brows. “And?”

“He used to sit next to me! You’ve taken my spot!” James exclaimed.

“Well, technically I just switched seats,” Sirius piped up, always one to wind his best friend up as he threw his arm over the back of your chair. “So, she hasn’t taken your spot, I just changed mine.”

James narrowed his eyes. “There was a time where we were on the same side.”

“You’ll always be my number two, Potter,” Sirius assured him, whilst you rolled your eyes as your brother did moments ago since you knew exactly where this was going.

“And who’s number one?” James asked with a huff.

“My darling Euphemia, of course,” Sirius said with a massive grin on his face. “My number one Potter always and forever.”

“Hm, you just want an extra cookie,” Euphemia commented, though she seemed amused nonetheless.

Sirius leaned his head back to look at her. “Did it work?”

“We’ll see,” Euphemia smiled and pressed a kiss to the top of his head before she left the room.

James let out a scoff. “And now you’re stealing my bonus cookies too—”

“I’ll half it with you,” Sirius offered.

James paused for a moment before he grinned. “I knew you were still my best friend.”

Your gaze shifted to your boyfriend as you felt a hand lay on the top of your thigh, turning to raise your eyebrows at him as he just flashed you an innocent look.

“What?” you asked suspiciously.

“You know you’re my real number one, right?” he asked in a low voice, his head tilting down a little so his head was closer to you. “No one could replace you, doll.”

“First my mother, then my brother,” you mused, biting back your smile. “You trying to sweet me too, Black?”

“There’s a lot of things I want to do to you,” he murmured, a dark look in his eyes that sent a wave of desire and anticipation through you as his hand squeezed the fat of your thigh.

“Like what?” you asked, your voice a little breathier than you expected.

His grin was wolfish. “Well—”

“MUM, THEY ARE DOING IT AGAIN!”

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shogunish · 2 months

Text

𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝗮𝗻𝘁𝗶𝘁𝗵𝗲𝘀𝗶𝘀.

synopsis. “you made me feel like i was a threat to you.”

contents. a bit of angst, comfort, miscommunication/lack of communication, implied friends-to-lovers, soft! satoru, takes place after the star plasma vessel incident, satoru's trauma response, unedited, something i whipped up on a whim lmao

wc. 1.3k

note. had a sudden urge to write this when i watched dazai edits and i hope i'll find more inspiration to write like..i just wanna be consistent for once 🥲

comments and reblogs are highly appreciated! <3

the inverted spear of heaven was no more.

the star plasma vessel incident — mainly toji fushiguro — had carved its mark into satoru’s flesh. after satoru had killed the man, he had made sure to destroy the cursed tool until not even ashes remained of the sharp blade that used to spill the blood of innocents.

it was almost like the sorcerer wanted to destroy the things that could destroy him.

however, he failed to notice how he had almost destroyed his relationship with you, too.

no longer did satoru wrap you up in his bear hugs. no longer did he let you rest your head on his shoulder on movie night. no longer were you welcome in his space.

always were you kept at an arm’s length. satoru was close enough to admire but so far out of reach like the constellation of stars dotting the night sky. what you thought was no more than a phase turned out to be so much more until, in the safety of your bedroom and underneath your blankets, your vision blurred with tears.

if the sun wasn't there, the moon would remain hidden in the vast void of space. and without satoru, you couldn't shine, either. in fact, your smile dimmed until it was almost extinguished by the pain satoru put you through — but it wasn’t his fault. or so you'd like to tell yourself.

satoru had danced with death when he was meant to only protect a girl.

you couldn't possibly blame him.

after all, you could neutralize the only thing that kept him safe.

the ability to nullify any cursed technique upon touch was as convenient as it was, literally, cursed. with zero offensive abilities, you always relied on satoru or suguru to cover for you in case your plans didn't work out. one miscalculation and your head would roll — that much you knew.

among every student attending jujutsu high, you were the weakest while satoru was the strongest.

it was enough to tie your fate to satoru, weaving a web of complicated feelings which usually tasted like those sugary gummy bears the sorcerer carried with him. it was sweet and warm like his embrace, but the blade of toji fushiguro had effortlessly cut through the fine webs. nothing but a cold void remained where laughter and silly inside jokes about digimon danced along the velvety threads.

almost like a black hole that swallowed the constellation in the skies, leaving behind broken galaxies and lonely stars that swallowed moons to fill the loss of their companions.

“he's so stupid,” you muttered to yourself, threw the teddy bear in your arms into the corner of your bed and sat up to blow your nose.

the teddy bear was a polar bear adorned with button eyes and a red bow tied around its fluffy neck. it looks like you, you had mindlessly said during last year's summer festival. satoru had spent the entire evening shooting little rubber ducks to earn enough points to win the silly bear, but it was worth it for your eyes lit up like the fireworks that followed soon after.

the clock read two am when you poured boiling hot water into a cup of instant ramen, ripped open the package of spice and stirred the meal with disinterest written all over your face. not even the scent of cheap cup noodles made your tummy growl anymore. how could it when it was so full of dread, guilt and worry for the sorcerer who stole your heart and refused to give it back? it was an unfair bargain, really.

just a moment later, you heard a knock on your door. you considered ignoring it and pretending to be asleep, but alas, the lights were on and likely snuck through underneath the crack of the door to your dorm. what kind of idiot knocked on your door at two am?

satoru — the only idiot who'd knock on your door in the middle of the night and look like a kicked puppy.

“satoru? it's two am..,” you spoke first, standing between him and the warmth of your dorm.

satoru didn't look like satoru. even through the pitch black glasses of his shades could you see the storm brewing in those sky-blues of his. with a sigh, he rubbed his neck. “why does everyone keep telling me how late it is? ah, no matter.”

you wanted to ask, but decided against it.

“look, i know it's late, but i can't help but think you've been avoiding me for the last couple of what? weeks? months?” satoru shifted his weight from one fuzzy slipper to the other. “was it something i said?”

in that very moment, you realized you were doing the same things as he was. as soon as class was over, you'd go home alone. you'd have lunch alone. you'd spend your weekends alone. all those things once were shared with satoru in your space, but as soon as he avoided you..you avoided him, too out of fear of getting hurt.

“satoru..don't you realize that you've been avoiding me first?” your voice was quiet as you hugged your middle. “ever since the incident and the destruction of that cursed tool, you always kept me at arm's length. you no longer let me get any closer nor do you spar with me anymore. nothing..”

“you made me feel like i was a threat to you.”

a painful epiphany coiled in satoru's stomach like a snake. was he so busy destroying the devil's tools and refining his technique that he..forgot about about you? the person who'd steal his fries and snore on his shoulder on movie night? no, no way. he would never see you as a threat even though your touch could dissolve his infinity like sugar when it touched water.

“[name], that's not..” the words got stuck in his throat. for the first time in his life, he was speechless. “you are anything but a threat.”

“then why..” tears brimmed your eyes until they overflowed, ran down the apples of your cheeks and met the warmth of satoru’s thumb. it was not his stupid infinity wiping the tears away, but satoru himself.

to be touched by satoru felt like the first sunrays of spring gracing your skin. warm, familiar and hinting at the end of a long, unforgiving winter that had taken root in your belly. soft sobs bubbled in the back of your throat, rocking your shoulders and interrupting every word you wanted to say; how stupid he was, how much you missed him, how much you needed him.

“shh..say no more,” satoru whispered and took you in his strong arms so you could sob into his chest all you wanted.

satoru didn't care about the tears or snot wetting his shirt. all that mattered was the feeling of you in his arms, and even though it pained him to know that he caused those tears, this was better than receiving your cold shoulder and dismissive smiles.

quietly, you and satoru went back inside the warmth of your dorm where both of you shared some cheap cup ramen which satoru spiced up with some peppers, egg and a conversation which neither of you would remember in the morning to come. no amount of time seemed to have passed between you as you both laughed, bickered and exchanged glances like lovers-to-be would.

“what are you doing?,” you asked, long comfortable underneath the sheets of your bed — or you would be if satoru didn't hold them up and almost looked offended by your words.

“sleeping with you, duh,” he said like it was the most normal thing in the world and maybe it was.

ignoring your protests and pouts, satoru crammed himself into bed with you, one arm around your waist and the other one underneath your head. his broad chest gently pressed against your back, his warmth enveloped you like a blanket.

“you're stupid,” you smiled to yourself while a blush as red as roses crept up your cheeks.

“and you're lucky i love you,” satoru grumbled underneath his breath, blowing some strands of your hair away from his nose and mouth so he wouldn't suffocate while holding you so tight.

taglist. @torusmochi, @cinnamonmon

#gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader #gojo satoru #jujutsu kaisen #fic. his antithesis #gojo satoru fluff #gojo satoru angst

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