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kitkat13001 · 2 months ago

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✦ — 2. black sheep

⋆.˚✮ prev ⟡ m. list ⟡ next ✮ 2.5k words

-> hitoshi shinsou x pro-hero!reader

✮ with you and hitoshi constantly at each other’s throats, this mission is seeming more and more impossible. will a break in the case make things better or worse. . ? ✮ tracklist: black sheep - brie larson and metric, complicated - avril lavigne, snap out of it - arctic monkeys, transparent soul - willow smith, taking what’s not yours - tv girl

it takes some time for you and shinsou to settle into a half-decent routine. it’s rocky at first, both of you struggling to gauge being in such close quarters after being apart for so long.

it’s weird. it normally takes you a while to get accustomed to working with others. you’ve always struggled to adjust to a teammate, and you’d never been able to keep a sidekick.

your quirk is better suited for combat versus support, so you’re often sent out on your own. that combined with your headstrong personality makes you an easy standalone, so aside from working with your fellow lurkers, you don’t work in teams a whole lot.

still, with your career riding on this operation, and edgeshot keeping a close eye on you, you try to make an effort to be civil. but it’s hard. you and hitoshi have always been polar opposites, but where that used to be strength has now turned to nuisance.

patrol, paperwork, recon, debrief, report. awkward silence, meaningless small talk, avoidant glances. sarcastic comments, clenched teeth, childlike bickering. you spend the next few days in these strange spirals.

it takes some adjusting, and you find yourselves butting heads frequently, but you’re surprised by how quickly you both seem to fall back in together. time (and a lot of other things) has warped your relationship, but there’s muscle memory underneath it all.

the shift gives you whiplash. you walk and you argue. you sit in silence in the office. but a villain comes along, some low-threat thug on the street, and taking him down is effortless. you and hitoshi seem to work in seamless tandem.

you notice things the longer you work with shinsou.

he always walks just slightly behind you. he usually doesn’t speak first. on patrol, he moves when you move, like magnets.

he always eats at his desk and then disappears, presumably for a smoke break on the roof. he always waits until the last minute to turn in his mission reports, but he never files them late. he takes his coffee black, which normally you would assume he only does to seem cool — except that you know he’s drank it like that since high school.

he catches you staring exactly once. you’re both on a roof during a recon run, leaning against the railing. he’s gazing down at the city and you’re deep in thought, studying his side profile.

four years seems like a long time, but he actually doesn’t look too different. he’s a little taller (or just standing more straight now?), and he’s got a couple new scars. his hair is longer.

you’ve seen him occasionally on the news, of course, but only briefly. he hates the press, never takes interviews or public missions if he can help it. photos of him are rare, and usually blurry candids taken from afar. nothing like seeing him up close, anyway.

“do i have something on my face or what?”

your cheeks heat up when he glances at you in his peripheral, but you hold his gaze and squint. “you have such rbf it’s insane.”

hitoshi stares at you like you’ve grown a second head.

“this is why nobody wants to work with you, huh?”

you make an indignant noise, shooting him a cutting glance. you wish you had a good comeback but it’s the truth. you can’t keep a sidekick or partner to save your life.

“whatever.”

he laughs dryly, satisfied with your lack of response. smug bastard.

you both return to the increasingly familiar silence, watchful eyes focused below.

the weapons shipment is set to go down at the end of the month, according to kamihara’s contact. until then, you and shinsou are supposed to be collecting evidence and keeping an eye on known operatives — though it’s really glorified busywork.

you heave an irritated sigh. “i hate this reconnaissance crap,” you huff, kicking at a pebble on the ground. “i feel like such a loser just waiting around.”

“has anyone ever told you you’re way too impulsive for your own good?”

you click your tongue. “yeah. you, about a million times. and edgeshot, pretty much daily. kamui, too. not takeyama, though, ‘cause she’s the exact same.”

“dream team,” he replies loftily.

you peer at him through the corner of your eye and he’s got some faraway look in his eye.

“you keep in touch with anyone else from school? i haven’t seen you in many team-ups.”

he raises one eyebrow with a half-smirk. “you keeping tabs on me?”

you snort. “huh! you wish.”

“kaminari and i talk sometimes. if i’m in the area we’ll patrol together. once in a while monoma and i get paired up if i feel like traveling.” he shrugs, tugging lightly on his capture scarf. “i like working alone. easier that way.”

“i’m gathering that. you know, i…” you trail off, realizing that he’s not listening. you scowl, ready to say something about it until you see the way he’s laser-focused on the scene below. you peer over the ledge, watching as a suspicious-looking figure slips out of the building below and slinks off.

shinsou hops the railing, rappelling down the building in pursuit with you right on his tail. you two keep a good distance as you trail the presumed villain, ducking behind a pile of empty crates.

you peer out, trying to see where he’s headed, but he’s looking right at you and takes off at the sight.

you curse, sprinting after him as he runs across the street and shoves through the crowded square. shinsou peels left, climbing up to run parallel to you along the rooftops.

the villain clambers through the crowd but he’s hard to miss with all the people he’s shoving over screaming. you cut through the crowd, in hot pursuit, shouting for people to clear away.

someone to your right screams and dives away as a large red disc sails right at them. sirens ring out and the crowd begins to disperse as law enforcement aids evacuation. you keep running, dodging more of those sharp discs the villain sends at you. you’re agile, but the constant dodge slows you down.

where the hell did hitoshi go? you wonder. you can’t let this guy get away…

you duck another disc, sprinting to catch up when you see hitoshi drop down on the opposite end of the street. cornered, the villain rears back for another vault of discs, this time headed right for shinsou. your body reacts quicker than your mind and you dive forward to deflect them. the tendrils of hitoshi’s capture scarf dart over your head as you block the disc, and the villain shouts as he’s swiftly detained.

you get to your feet, brushing yourself off as hitoshi steps forward, standing over the villain. “you all done there?”

“ha!” he spits back, “not a—” he stops, face and mind going blank as shinsou’s brainwashing takes hold.

“alright, enough. get up and walk,” shinsou commands, watching with smug satisfaction as the villain obeys immediately.

he’s stronger, you think to yourself, awed more than you care to admit by hitoshi’s power. his compulsion was so strong you almost felt like obeying him yourself, even though he hadn’t directed the command at you. you and him trail behind as the villain ambles toward the police officers that have collected around the square’s perimeter.

“that was some move,” you whistle lowly, trying to sound nonchalant with the compliment. shinsou doesn’t turn his head.

you think he’s just trying to focus on keeping the guy under control, but then he huffs a little under his breath. “thanks for almost letting him get away.”

the nerve! you think, offended once you get over the shock of his backhand. “thanks for ditching me back there!” you retort, skin prickling and hair on end. “you would’ve got skewered back there if it wasn’t for me!”

“i would’ve been fine!” he scowls, turning away to unravel the stupefied villain and hand him over to the authorities for detainment. “i just don’t see how this entire operation is even a two-person job, that’s all.”

by now you’re practically boiling over with frustration. “you know what, ‘toshi? i didn’t ask to be partnered with you, okay? let’s just get through this stupid mission and then we can go back to never talking again.”

he studies you for a long time with an exasperated expression, before finally asking, “that’s really what you want?”

you don’t really know how to answer that, so you just frown. “i…well, yeah, i guess.”

isn’t that what he wants? from all this attitude, it’s clear he wants nothing to do with you.

“fine, whatever. thanks for the save.”

you can’t tell if he’s being sarcastic or not this time, and you don’t know even know which is worse. you just stand there, smarting and feeling incredibly stupid.

“i hate him!”

mt. lady looks up when you slam your locker door, collapsing onto the bench in front of you. she gives a half-smile. “that bad?”

“i’m going to wring his neck if i have to be in the same room as him again in the next twenty-four hours,” you reply with a deadpan expression.

“well, good thing you’re done for the day, no?” she gestures to where you’re changing out of your hero costume into your casual clothes.

you stifle a loud groan into your balled-up shirt. you heave a sigh when you come up for air, the very picture of absolute misery. “no. we gotta be there for the interrogation. we think he’s involved in the syndicate we’re tracking right now.”

takeyama blinks, giving your shoulder a squeeze. “good lord. well, don’t strangle him too hard! he’s too pretty to kill, you know?”

oh, you know. but that’s the least of your problems right about now, so you just wave her off and take another moment to collect yourself before you have to go back.

you make your way to the lower levels and find hitoshi leaning against the wall outside a detainment room. his head is ducked to avoid eye contact and you don’t bother to greet him. you peer through the one-sided glass and find the same villain from earlier cuffed to the table, absolutely seething. detective tsukauchi is seated across from him, looking equally vexed.

must be serious if he’s here. you’ve worked under kamihara on cases with him, and you know he’s one of the best at what he does.

you watch as tsukauchi gets up from the table and exits the room, meeting you and shinsou outside.

“afternoon,” he greets you both politely with your hero names and a nod. “apologies for dragging out your duties, but it seems he won’t talk. we’re suspecting he’s not much more than a grunt, but it does seem that he knows something, particularly pertaining to the shipment i understand you two are tracking.”

“if he does, i’ll get it out of him,” shinsou assures him. tsukauchi nods, moving aside to let him through.

you trail behind as he adjusts his modulator mask, striding into the room and calling out with tsukauchi’s voice.

“ready to talk now?”

“yeah, right! you’re gonna hafta bring in that mind-control freak ba—”

he stops short in the middle of his sentence, his face going slack and eyes turning white. you almost wanna laugh.

“aww, careful now,” hitoshi replies, back to his normal voice and sarcastic tone. “you might hurt my feelings. not the sharpest tool in the shed, y’know, falling for this twice.”

he slides into the chair opposite the villain and you perch on the table, waiting.

“talk.”

a shiver runs down your spine when you feel the wave of cold control that passes through the room.

the man speaks like he’s in a daze, slow and robotic. “my name is hiroto kaori. i’m thirty-six. i live on—”

hitoshi pinches the bridge of his nose like he’s warding off a headache. “about the weapons shipment, the organization you work with. what do you know?”

“a huge order of illegal firearms and other weapons is supposed to be imported for the syndicate.”

“where? when?”

“a week from tomorrow. i don’t know where.”

your heart jumps a little. “a week from tomorrow?” you ask before you can stop yourself. “the briefing said it’s not supposed to be for another three weeks!”

“why did it change?” shinsou asks, brows creased.

“i don’t know.”

you curse, sliding off the table to pace the room.

shinsou turns to you. “think your boss has a bad contact?”

you shake your head. “kamihara wouldn’t send us in without being sure. maybe they found out somehow? changed it up hoping we’d be too late to catch them…”

“maybe,” he murmurs, before turning back to the villain who’s still sitting placidly. “what else do you know?”

“that’s all.”

hitoshi sighs, standing up with a huff. the villain blinks slowly, bewildered as the control wears off. you and hitoshi file out as he begins to shout profanities after you until the guards inside subdue him.

“a week…” you huff in disbelief. that’s much sooner than you expected. “and they’ll probably be expecting us now if they find out we’ve got this guy.”

hitoshi is quiet for a while before responding. “not necessarily. they think they’re ahead but there’s still a chance to catch them by surprise.”

“we don’t even know if it’s the same location,” you reply despondently, sliding down the wall you were leaning on until you’re on the floor. you stifle a long groan into your palms. “the fucking report on this is going to be a nightmare. and we’re probably going to have to stakeout, that’s going to be great.”

you keep rambling on, so caught up with the nightmare unfolding in your mind that you’ve half-forgotten shinsou standing right in front of you.

you look up, almost surprised. “what?”

he’s looking at you strangely, some odd expression on his face. like he wants to say something. four years ago, you would’ve been able to tell what it was without a problem. now you just wait.

hitoshi shifts, visibly uncomfortable. “i’m…sorry about earlier,” he mumbles, voice strained like it’s physically paining him to admit this. “i…i shouldn’t have said those things. after agreeing to do this mission with you, and now…maybe i shouldn’t have said…”

you resist the urge to squirm under his intense gaze. he’s always had eyes that seem to look right through you, almost boring into your soul.

“um, thanks…? i guess…”

he nods resolutely, more to himself than to you. he makes a face. “and after all the hassle it took to take this mission. tch. maybe it’s a good thing it’ll be over quicker.”

his words puzzle you, and your stomach dips as he turns to leave. you get up quickly, trying to make sense of it.

“‘toshi, wait!” you reach for his hand to stop him before he disappears. “did you…i thought you were assigned to this?”

he looks at your hand on his wrist, cheeks reddening. you quickly drop your hand, embarrassed.

“i was offered. but i thought…” he trails off, shaking head again. “it doesn’t matter what i thought. i just wanted to apologize for being an ass is all. so i’ll stay out of your way and this whole mess will be over soon.”

he doesn’t give you a chance to respond (not that you think you could’ve come up with anything to say anyway) before he’s stalking off down the hallway, leaving you with hot cheeks and a pit in your stomach.

dividers by @/saradika-graphics, header by kitty with pics from pinterest!

taglist: @deadhands69 @frvv @cccandynecklaces @tokeposts @lover-no-lover61 @getvaccinated @accidentpronedork @crushmeeren @p4rkcha3w0n @cyberesc @bloomstream @eloshifts @bythevay @cc1306 @nobodybutnnoorr (ask/comment if you’d like to be added!)

writing action is hard :/ trying to the get the story moving along!! <33 moving some outline stuff around but the next chapter should be a lil more balanced i hope 🤞 enjoy! hope this lives up to excitement that’s been expressed!!

#kitty.writes!#see you (again) ⋆｡𖦹 #hitoshi x reader #mha x reader #mha #bnha #hitoshi shinso #shinsou hitoshi #shinsou x reader #shinso x reader #shinsou x you #shinso hitoshi #hitoshi shinso x reader #mha shinsou #mha angst #shinsou angst #hitoshi shinsou x reader #hitoshi shinsou #shinshou hitoshi x reader

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menlove · 1 year ago

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one thing that adds to credibility of Paul being closeted imo, is that often he is thought of as having this internalised homophobia, if not homophobia itself, because he always mentions how un-gay he is whenever some gay subject comes up in interviews

but like, there are so many things that disprove him being homophobic, it's not even funny. going to Paris alone with gay men? Paul did that two times (three if we count John lol) and that Peter Brown story is incrediblyy suspect. what homophobic man, scared of gay, sits on the bed of his male employee and his male fling that casually late at night in his hotel room and chats them up?

most likely reason, combined with his incredibly suspect lyrics, is that he is so defensive about his sexuality because he has something to hide

THATS WHAT IIIIIM SAYING!!!! like he is so comfortable w gay people and gay culture which on its own isn't suspect but it Is when people insist he's homophobic as a Reason He's Repressed Not Closeted. and once again I must remind everyone that john nearly beat a man to death for calling him gay and was still undeniably queer.

it's just like. imagine for a moment. with me. everyone hold my hand. not claiming this is true but walk w me along this path to get to current paul that isn't "he's just repressed and stupid and doesn't even know he's bi" but is instead MY speculative timeline (somehow this turned into a mini fic or something god help me but I'M SO SERIOUS IM SO SERIOUS THIS WOULD MAKE THE MOST SENSE TO ME WALK WITH ME HOLD MY HAND)

you are born in the 1940s. you are raised by a strict man who was physically abusive & in a culture that hates gay people. you grow up watching people get killed for being queer and being bullied over your feminine features that people think make you queer. you hit puberty and Shit Gets Harder because you start finding other men hot. elvis, for one! when you're 15 you start seeing a boy around that you think is hot and it turns out he's in a band and you fall in love with his looks and his voice and then him. and he's just as insane about you. you start doing increasingly sexual things together. eventually, you're having a full blown sexual affair. while writing love songs together and growing up together. and then he gets his girlfriend pregnant. and marries her. and you lose him, a little bit. he goes off and has an affair with your gay manager & when he gets home he ruins your birthday party by nearly beating a man to death for bringing it up. you wonder what he'd do if anyone found out about the two of you too.

and then the insane happens and you end up The Most Famous Band In The World. the ENTIRE world is watching your every move. the entire world loves you. they wouldn't love you if they knew. you get a girlfriend and it's convenient because she's always gone and you're always alone. but you still have him. and other girls. through everything, you have each other. even when he says something stupid and the world wants all of your heads on a platter and he starts to fall into a depression, you still have each other. even if now you Know how bad it could be if they ever found out. and then your manager, your father figure, an openly gay man, dies. and it's not a suicide, but a lot of people think it is, and sometimes you wonder, and fuck it's terrifying, isn't it? the reality of your life, the reality of loving Him, the reality of being queer. what if that winds up being You? you start to lose Him a little bit more as you throw yourself into your work and push everyone way too hard. you propose to your girlfriend. and then you do lose Him. to a woman. which was sort of unthinkable because he was already married and never cared about her, just you. never cared about any women, just you. but he cares about Her. and you fucking lose your mind. lose yourself in drugs. blow up your engagement. propose to another girl and many more "jokingly". your one girlfriend says you had to try again or you would have gone "raving queer" and killed yourself. the whole time you're losing Him more and more. suddenly he's looking at Her like he used to look at you. you're no longer his world and what the fuck do you have? a bunch of girls you don't care about and a drug problem? and then you meet a woman who, according to you, is more woman than anyone else. she's a mother already, a family ready made when you've always wanted one. she's smart and she's funny and she's quick and you let yourself cling to her because you don't have Him and he has Her so you've got to have someone, don't you? and she winds up pregnant and that's great, that's wonderful, you're no longer in danger of dying alone and queer and sad. you've lost Him by now completely, even though you have about a month where things feel a little less awful again and you perform together one last time. you marry her and you ASK people, flat out, if they expected you to be a 26 year old unmarried queer. you fight the night before you're married for some unknown reason, so badly she almost leaves you. and then He marries Her, and everything is fine. and then it all falls apart completely. you at least had Him as your friend, your writing partner, the other half of you legally. and then he asks for a divorce. and the world ends. you don't have the band, you don't have Him, you don't have anything. you stay in bed all day, drinking, miserable. like a breakup, not just of the band.

eventually, your wife pulls you out of it. you survive. you start writing again. you write to him. you put two beetles fucking on the cover of your second album and he thinks a song you wrote about your wife's ex is about him (and maybe it is, a little) and he shoots right back. and you keep that up for a decade. writing to each other. seeing each other only in the news and in snatched moments together where nothing is the same as it was. you plead with him through your music: why do you hurt me so bad? call me, pretty baby. I'm waking up screaming over you. I can't tell you how I feel. you try and make things like they were, even a little, showing up to his house with your guitar like you're 15 again, but he sends you away. in all that time, he's basically gone to conversion therapy. he's with someone who makes disparaging remarks about his sexuality. for you, you've let yourself embrace being a bit campy, but you still can't bring yourself to be open about any of it. not with anyone but your wife.

and then you start talking again. you make up. things seem hopeful. it seems like he might still love you and he writes you a song about starting over with you. and then he's murdered. and it's senseless. it's so so senseless. and it's unfair. you lock yourself away for days listening to that song he wrote you. the media tears you apart for grieving wrong. they wish you died instead. they think you're cold. you never loved him, not like he loved you. you write a song, with tear marks on the page, telling him how much you DID love him. all the things you'd say to him if he were there with you. you write more songs about that, all centered around that theme. some of them you say are about him. others you don't. once, you say if anyone catches on you can just deny it. but he wrote you love songs too, apparently, for you, and you eventually record them with your old band

and the thing is, You are one of his widows. his name follows yours every time it leaves someone's mouth. he's all anyone ever talks about with you. he's all you want to talk about too. his legacy is your legacy. he's no longer here to tell people about his sexuality, he's no longer here to consent to everything that you were being told. he's not here. and how can you even begin to mention Your Own sexuality without bringing him up? you owe him more than outing him in death. you owe Her more than that too, because you were already cruel to her and so was the world. she's grieving just like you, you can't do that. your wife dies, and now you're her legacy too and you being queer would seem like a betrayal to her. your best friend dies, and now he's your legacy too. you aren't just you- you're Him, you're 1/2 of the living members of the most famous band to ever exist, you're Her, you're your dead wife

so when someone asks you about him. when someone asks you about being gay or calls him the love of your life. What Exactly Are You Supposed To Say?

I wouldn't say shit either

#this got so long I just have a lot of feelings about paul if. you couldn't tell.#this is all PURE speculation btw. it's just the way I feel it would go if. he were closeted and they were fucking #a if you give a mouse a cookie type ramble #mclennon

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skye-obsolete · 1 year ago

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Possessive Desires

𝙿𝚛𝚎𝚟𝚒𝚘𝚞𝚜 𝙿𝚊𝚛𝚝: 𝙳𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚎𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚜 𝙶𝚊𝚖𝚎

xᴀᴠɪᴇʀ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

ᯓ❅ ┆ 𝘴𝘺𝘯𝘰𝘱𝘴𝘪𝘴 ┆ : 𝘉𝘺 𝘱𝘶𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘣𝘶𝘵𝘵𝘰𝘯𝘴 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘳𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵, 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘮𝘢𝘯𝘢𝘨𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘢𝘸𝘢𝘬𝘦𝘯 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘥𝘦𝘴𝘪𝘳𝘦𝘴 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘺𝘰𝘶.

ᯓ❅ ┆ 𝘵𝘢𝘨𝘴 ┆ : 𝘕𝘚𝘍𝘞, 18+ 𝘰𝘯𝘭𝘺, 𝘱𝘰𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘣𝘭𝘦 𝘖𝘖𝘊, 𝘧𝘳𝘦𝘯𝘤𝘩 𝘬𝘪𝘴𝘴, 𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘰𝘳𝘨𝘢𝘴𝘮 (𝘧𝘦𝘮𝘢𝘭𝘦 𝘳𝘦𝘤𝘦𝘪𝘷𝘪𝘯𝘨), 𝘥𝘰𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘢𝘯𝘵 (𝘮𝘢𝘭𝘦) & 𝘴𝘰𝘧𝘵 𝘢𝘧𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘤𝘢𝘳𝘦.

─────────────── ˗ˏˋ ❅｡˚ ☁︎ ˚｡⋆｡˚☽ ˎˊ˗ ────────────────

His fingers traced a tantalizing path down to her thighs, then slowly moved along her inner thighs, sending waves of pleasure and anticipation coursing through her. "One more word," he murmured, his tone dark and promising, "and I'll show you exactly who you belong to."

His statement enticed her, an undercurrent of danger making her heart race, yet she couldn't help but be drawn to it. She looked at him, her eyes glazed with desire, a sly smirk tugging at her lips as she decided to pull his last strings. "You're adorable, Lumi."

His jaw clenched at the use of that teasing nickname, his grip on her waist tightening possessively. Without warning, he lifted her effortlessly from the seat, his strong arms enveloping her in a firm embrace.

In one fluid motion, he spun her around and pressed her back against the wall, his body a solid barrier of strength and desire that trapped her in place.

"Oh, you have no idea the game you're playing, sweetheart," he purred, his voice a velvety mix of menace and lust. His eyes blazed with a hungry flame as his fingers tangled in her hair, securing her firmly as his mouth descended upon hers once more.

She squeaked as he pushed her against the wall, his body melding with hers, the pressure both exhilarating and overwhelming. Perhaps her teasing had gone too far, but it was too late to turn back now. His kiss was demanding and fervent, eliciting a soft groan from her lips, "mm.." The intensity of his desire left her breathless and completely at his mercy.

Xavier deepened the kiss, his tongue entwining with hers in a passionate, intoxicating dance. His body pressed even closer, the heat of his skin seeping into hers, creating an electric connection. His hand glided down her side, tracing the curve of her waist, over her hip, and down to her thigh.

He shifted slightly, lifting her leg just enough to press his hips snugly against her, the hard evidence of his desire unmistakable. His kiss was possessive, each stroke of his tongue a clear declaration of ownership.

"H-Hya—!" Her gasp was soft and breathless as he lifted her leg, exposing her to a more vulnerable position, especially since she was only wearing a skirt. The sensation was both thrilling and overwhelming, making her feel acutely aware of every point of contact between them.

As her gasp escaped her lips, he continued to devour her mouth, his body pinning her securely against the wall. The heat between them grew more intense, his kisses becoming harder and more demanding, filled with an insatiable hunger.

The hand gripping her waist trailed down to her legs, his fingers gently caressing her thigh, tracing small, tantalizing circles over her smooth skin. His thumb slipped under the edge of her skirt, brushing against the top of her thigh-high stocking, teasing her with each subtle movement.

"M-Nn.." She closed her eyes, struggling to maintain her composure as she felt his fingers at the edge of her skirt. The combination of his touch and his kisses sent shivers through her body, making it increasingly difficult to think clearly. The intensity of his desire, combined with the vulnerability of her position, left her breathless and yearning for more.

He smiled slightly at her struggle, the soft sounds escaping her lips only fueling his desire. His thumb brushed upward along her inner thigh, slipping under her skirt, his touch growing bolder and more insistent.

He broke the kiss, his mouth finding the delicate flesh of her throat. He trailed a path of hot, possessive kisses down the sensitive skin, his lips leaving a burning trail in their wake. His teeth nipped gently at her collarbone, a sharp contrast to the soothing caress of his tongue as it followed, erasing the sting.

"A-Aah..!" Y/n gasped, the sensation causing her to lift her chin slightly, subconsciously giving Xavier more access to her neck.

Taking full advantage of her responsive arch, his mouth continued its seductive path down her neck. His tongue lapped at her skin, savoring the taste, while his teeth grazed over the tender flesh. He found a particularly sensitive spot at the base of her throat and sucked on it, intent on marking her as his own.

His hand slid higher, fingers deftly slipping beneath her panties to explore her heat. "You're so soft, sweetheart," he murmured against her skin, his breath warm and his voice thick with undeniable desire.

His fingers traced along her intimate folds, each touch sending jolts of pleasure through her body. He found her most sensitive bud and pressed gently against it, earning a sharp gasp from her lips.

He continued his sensual assault, kissing a path down her chest. His teeth caught the neckline of her top, pulling it down to expose her generous cleavage to his hungry gaze. His body pushed further into hers, his growing excitement pressing firmly against her, making his desire abundantly clear. His kisses grew more fervent, each one a testament to his possessive need to claim every inch of her.

"H-Haa... M-Mn.." Y/n’s whimpers grew more frequent and urgent as Xavier continued his relentless actions, each touch and kiss pulling more helpless sounds from her.

He captured her mouth once more in a heated kiss, his lips bruising hers as he tasted every moan she made. His fingers continued their exploration of her heat, teasing and taunting her sensitive bud with gentle, torturous circles. He relished in the small, pleading noises she made, drinking them in like the finest ambrosia.

Shifting his stance slightly, the movement caused his hardness to press even closer, the friction nearly overwhelming him. His need for her was a roaring inferno, an all-consuming desire that demanded satisfaction.

He pushed her harder against the wall, his body melding into hers with an urgency that left no room for doubt. His fingers slipped down, slowly teasing her entrance, the tips brushing over her slick folds with deliberate care. Breaking the kiss, his breath hot and heavy against her lips, he murmured, "You're mine, alright?"

Before Y/n could respond, in one swift motion, he lifted both of her legs, hiking her thighs up to drape over his hips, opening her even more to his touch. His finger slipped inside her heat, and a low, primal groan escaped his throat at the sensation.

"A-Aah..!" Y/n arched her back immediately, the sudden intrusion making her feel incredibly exposed and vulnerable. She panted lightly, her gaze half-lidded, her expression a tantalizing mix of arousal and surrender that sent waves of heat coursing through Xavier.

His finger curled inside her, rubbing against her inner walls with practiced precision. "Y/n, you're soaked," he whispered huskily, his voice thick with ravenous desire and a hint of teasing satisfaction.

His touch grew bolder with every response he elicited, his fingers moving with increasing confidence and intent. He added another finger, carefully stretching her, his movements designed to bring her to the peak of pleasure.

His mouth found her neck again, his teeth grazing over the sensitive skin, leaving possessive marks in their wake. His kisses trailed down to her collarbone, each one more fervent than the last, as he claimed every inch of her with insatiable need.

"Mmhhm-! Aa-aah..~!" Y/n's moans grew louder, each sound a testament to the intense pleasure Xavier was eliciting from her. She was losing her composure completely, her body tightening around his fingers as her pleasure built to an almost unbearable peak.

Encouraged by her moans, Xavier continued his ministrations, moving his fingers deeper and faster within her. His thumb found her sensitive bud again, rubbing it with precise, rhythmic circles. He wanted to see her come undone, wanted to be the one to drive her over the edge.

His words became more heated, his voice thick with desire. "Let go for me, sweetheart."

"A-Aahh! X-Xavier..— Haa-..~!" Y/n moaned out, her voice trembling as she felt herself nearing the edge, her mind going blank with each thrust of his fingers.

Hearing his name spill from her lips like a reverent prayer drove him further. He moved his fingers faster and deeper, relentlessly seeking to draw out her climax, while his thumb maintained its rhythm on her sensitive bud.

He nipped at her earlobe, then whispered against her ear, his breath warm and laden with desire. "That's right. Say my name again." His voice carried a dominating edge that sent shivers down her spine.

Her world narrowed to the sensation of his fingers deep and curling inside her, making her back arch even more. She was drunk with pleasure, feeling herself teetering on the brink. "X-Xavier..—"

A shiver ran down his spine at the sound of his name on her lips, breathless and full of need. He kissed her neck, his teeth grazing the flesh, before whispering against her skin. "I need to hear you scream my name when you come."

His fingers twisted suddenly, increasing in speed and pressure. His sole focus was on her pleasure, her release. He wanted nothing more than to be the one to send her over the edge.

Y/n's breath hitched as she felt the intensity of his movements. Her body tightened, and with a final, desperate cry of "X-Xavier!" she shattered, her climax ripping through her with an intensity that left her trembling. Xavier held her through it, his fingers gentle now, coaxing every last wave of pleasure from her.

He watched her with a fierce, possessive satisfaction, knowing he had claimed her completely at that moment.

Her release hit like a tidal wave, drowning her in an ocean of bliss. Her body shuddered uncontrollably against his, her head tilting back as she rode the relentless waves of pleasure. Her cries grew louder, his name spilling from her lips in an unrestrained moan. Xavier's fingers didn't stop; although his thrusts slowed and grew gentler, they prolonged her climax, dragging it out until she was left trembling and gasping for him.

He finally withdrew his fingers, bringing them to his mouth to taste her essence. His breath was quick and deep, but a satisfied smile tugged at the corners of his lips as he took in her spent form.

His eyes fixated on her flushed face, her half-lidded expression making her look even more delectable. Shifting his grip, he supported her limp body against him, before leaning in to capture her panting lips in a gentle, lingering kiss.

She tasted divine, an intoxicating blend of sweetness and desire. Y/n panted heavily, her body sagging into his arms, her head resting on his shoulder as she struggled to regulate her irregular breathing.

He held her tightly, his fingers tenderly caressing her flushed cheek. The heat radiating from her body matched his own, creating a shared warmth that enveloped them both. His lips pressed gently to her temple, and he murmured softly against her skin, "You're incredibly beautiful. Just... breathtakingly so."

His thumb traced the faint mark he'd left on her neck, a small love bite that filled him with possessive satisfaction. The sight of the mark on her skin was a silent declaration of his claim, and it stirred a deep sense of pride within him.

As her breathing gradually evened out, he continued to hold her close, offering her a moment to come back to reality. Then, with a smirk, he leaned down to whisper in her ear, "Are you gonna apologize for your little teasing game, sweetheart? Or are you gonna keep testing me?"

·❆　　　❆　❅　　　　•　　　　.　　　　　❆❆• 　·　.　　　❅

𝐴𝑢𝑡ℎ𝑜𝑟'𝑠 𝑁𝑜𝑡𝑒: 𝐶𝑜𝑛𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑢𝑒𝑑 𝑏𝑦 𝑑𝑒𝑚𝑎𝑛𝑑. 𝐼 ℎ𝑜𝑝𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑚𝑒𝑒𝑡𝑠 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑑𝑒𝑠𝑖𝑟𝑒𝑠 𝑜𝑓 𝑚𝑦 𝑓𝑒𝑙𝑙𝑜𝑤 𝑋𝑎𝑣𝑖 𝑔𝑖𝑟𝑙𝑖𝑒𝑠! 𝑀𝑦 𝑟𝑒𝑞𝑢𝑒𝑠𝑡 𝑖𝑠 𝑐𝑢𝑟𝑟𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑙𝑦 𝑜𝑝𝑒𝑛 𝑎𝑠 𝐼 𝑝𝑜𝑠𝑡 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑓𝑖𝑐𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛, 𝑖𝑓 𝑖𝑛𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑒𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑑; 𝑝𝑙𝑒𝑎𝑠𝑒 𝑟𝑒𝑔𝑎𝑟𝑑 𝑡𝑜 𝑚𝑦 𝑝𝑖𝑛𝑛𝑒𝑑 𝑝𝑜𝑠𝑡!

𝐓𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐠𝐞𝐫 𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐫 𝐒𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐜𝐞: 𝐜𝐚𝐟𝐞𝐤𝐢𝐭𝐬𝐮𝐧𝐞

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chaconne-ikeu · 7 months ago

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FIGHT NIGHT: A Street Fighter's Guide to Glory (M)

An Enhypen Hyung Line! Street Fighter AU Series

Main Masterlist / Playlist

Overall Series Genre(s): Angst, Smut

Synopsis: 4 Men, 4 Stories, 1 Ring.

Please leave an ask to be added to the taglist

18+ content: minors dni

[HEESEUNG]

Pairing: Street Fighter!Heeseung x Reader (ft. Ex!Mingi)

Genre: Angst, Smut, Strangers to Lovers

Synopsis: Your best friend's friend's indifference towards you always steered you away from him. You two rarely crossed paths unless it involved a gathering put together by your mutual friends. It's not like you had any time to pay him much mind anyway with your hectic work schedule, your overload of class work, and your ex consistently sending you threats in the form of roses on your doorstep. That is, until your best friend finds himself in a compromising situation that forces him to look into unconventional means of earning money, introduced to him from his friend. Fearing for your best friend's life, you find yourself in the man's presence night after night as you watch your best friend and others participate in an illegal underground boxing ring in order to secure cash. As your ex becomes bolder in his efforts to regain your attention, you find yourself needing guidance from the same man who you presume couldn't care less what would happen to you.

Status: Training…

PART I | PART II | PART III

[SUNGHOON]

Pairing: Street Fighter!Sunghoon x Neighbor!Reader (ft. Ex!Jaemin)

Genre: Angst, Smut, Friends to Lovers, Fake Dating

Synopsis: Given the ultimatum to find a respectable, well-off man to spend the rest of your days with before you graduate or move back home and marry the man of your parents' choice, you chose to do what any responsible adult would and lie to your parents about your relationship for the past four years. As graduation approaches you find it increasingly harder to find a man who will marry you on such short notice. So when your unrefined, illegal boxer, neighbor Sunghoon presents you with an offer to be your faux fiancé in exchange for assistance with his own problems you find it hard to decline his offer. He'll just need a bit of polishing up to sell the act to your parents. In your efforts to mislead your parents your ex pops up in hopes of taking your hand and an old abandoned property in town in the process.

Status: Training…

PART I | PART II | PART III

[JAKE]

Pairing: Street Fighter!Jake x Best Friend's Sister!Reader (ft. Newcomer!Donghyuck)

Genre: Angst, Smut, Enemies to Lovers

Synopsis: Being in any form of benefits relationship comes with its challenges. It just so happens that entering one with your older brother's hot-headed roommate comes with more than others. Especially when the aforementioned man has loathed every last bit of you from the moment he met you six years ago. Your unconventional relationship dynamic combined with a feisty newcomer to the fighting scene, and the consistent reminder of your past wrongdoings following you throughout the school year, prove to be more than any young lady can handle.

Status: Training…

PART I | PART II | PART III

[JAY]

Pairing: Street Fighter!Jay x Ex!Reader (ft. Fiancé!Yunho)

Genre: Angst, Smut, Exes to Lovers

Synopsis: It's safe to say that nobody ever wants to have to face that one ex that you walked out on when they were at their lowest. Especially not at your temporary place of employment. Any time you are forced to tend to his wounds after fights the feelings you had thought you had buried for the past couple years bubble to the surface. The reminders of what you once had with him start to reappear when you're with your new fiancé. Your new fiancé who is now a father figure to your two year old son with you ex. These feelings you harbor for him become even more complicated the more you look at your child. The reminder of your ex hangs heavy in your chest, day by day, but you can't bring yourself to reveal to said ex that your child is even his.

Status: Training…

PART I | PART II | PART III

[Coming Soon]

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sparrows4bats · 1 month ago

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I don't know much about kryptonite biology but I've always wondered how Jon was an only child, like considering how powerful Clark is like I would assume when having sex he would have gotten Lois pregnant with twins or triplets maybe, and I'm bringing this up because of the Mpreg Damian Wayne post. Cause just imagine Damian finds out he's pregnant and as the pregnancy develops it becomes increasingly obvious he isn't having just 1 kid but like 5 or more... Just a thought.

This is a great questions and I will write you an AU ficlet on what if Damian was pregnant with triplets like right now, but you have accidentally activated an info dump.

So, how Jonathan Kent even exists is very interesting. Actually, in some timelines, he is concieved while Clark is depowered, allowing his hybrid DNA to exist. I don't know if this is retconned in the current continuity, but that's the reason given for him being Clark and Lois's only biological child.

There are multiple mentions about how unstable his DNA is and how it potentially may make him more powerful than his father but also may kill him.

It's also why Kon is the only successful clone of Superman and Lex. Combining Kryptonitian DNA and human DNA is difficult!

Now, in other timelines, like injustice, Lois just gets pregnant, so it isn't as big a deal in other universes, apparently.

Also, pregnancy of multiples is usually more dependent on the pregnant person than the sprem used to form the zygote.

For non identical twins, two or more eggs need to be released at ovulation. Factors such as age, genetics, or medical intervention make this more likely. They develop their own amniotic sac and placenta.

For identical twins, the cells split into two around 5 to 12 days after fertilisation and grow in the same sac. Again, this is rare, but genetics have a role. If there are identical twins in your family, particularly on the pregnant person's side, there's an increase in the chances of the zygote splitting. There are families with dozens of sets of twins.

Now finally the reason I didn't go with multiples in the story was the fact that Jon can hear cardiac activity. This develops at 6 to 7 weeks of growth, but an actual heartbeat doesn't exist until 15 weeks when the heart fully develops.

Identical twins can be hard to identify in early stages, but separate sacs are easier to find on ultrasounds

I imagine that when it first develops, Jon can't tell the difference. Doesn't even know what to look for, until Damian has an ultrasound and sees triplets. Two identical twins and fraternal sibling.

Damian seriously considers letting his family kill him as Jon panics beside him.

#pregnant damian wayne #Sparrow4Chats #i seriously considered being a midwife or going into obstetrics but chronic illness and disability happened #hence the info dump #tw pregnancy #cw pregnancy

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sevasey51 · 5 months ago

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The new chief of trauma dr Lanik doesn’t know your Connors wife and one day he gets a little bit too aggressive at making passes towards her( he puts his hands on her). Connor just happens to see it this time. It has been going on for awhile and she never told Connor because she knows Connor hates him and doesn’t want to cause anymore issues. Connor goes into full protective husband mode.

Crossing the Line

Summary: When Dr. Lanik gets too aggressive with Y/N, Connor steps in and protects his wife, confronting the new chief of trauma and making it clear that no one will disrespect her under his watch.

Y/N had always been professional, sharp, and more than capable in the trauma bay. As one of the senior surgeons in the hospital, she’d learned how to handle difficult situations with composure. Her expertise was well-respected by her colleagues, and she prided herself on keeping things strictly professional—especially when it came to her coworkers.

One person who seemed to take an uncomfortable interest in her, however, was Dr. Lanik, the new chief of trauma. He had an air of confidence that bordered on arrogance, and while most of the staff tried to avoid his more flirtatious remarks, Y/N couldn’t help but notice his increasingly persistent behavior towards her. At first, it was the casual comments. “You’re looking extra beautiful today, Dr. Halstead,” he would say with a grin. But it didn’t stop there. His praise for her skills started to feel more like a way to get close to her. He would find reasons to stand next to her during trauma cases, his breath a little too close, his shoulder brushing against hers as he passed.

Y/N knew what he was doing. But she wasn’t the type to make a scene, especially with how much tension had already been in the hospital since Dr. Lanik’s arrival. She didn’t want to cause trouble for Connor either. He was protective, and she knew how much he disliked the new chief. But at the same time, Y/N couldn’t bring herself to tell him. She didn’t want to make things worse for herself, for him, or for the department.

Today, however, things took a turn. It had been a busy shift—trauma after trauma came through the doors, and the team was stretched thin. Y/N had just wrapped up an intense case and was making her way to the break room when she saw Dr. Lanik standing near the door. He gave her a smile that didn’t reach his eyes.

“Dr. Halstead,” he greeted, stepping into her path, “we need to talk about the procedure we’re doing tomorrow. You’re doing great work, but I think we could refine things a little.”

Y/N gave him a polite smile, already tired from the shift. “I’m sure we’ll have time to discuss it tomorrow, Dr. Lanik. I’m off for the day.” She tried to move past him, but he blocked her path.

“You know, I’ve always admired women who are both intelligent and attractive,” he said, his voice dropping to a tone that made Y/N feel uncomfortable. “It’s a rare combination.”

Y/N’s stomach churned, and she instinctively took a step back, trying to put some distance between them. But before she could react, he reached out, placing a hand on her arm in a way that felt far too familiar.

“You’re not just a great surgeon,” he continued, his voice almost a whisper. “You’re something special.”

Y/N froze, her breath catching in her throat. She knew she had to get out of this situation, but his hand on her arm was like a vice, holding her in place.

That was when she heard a voice—low, commanding—behind her.

“Get your hands off her.”

Y/N turned her head quickly to see Connor standing at the end of the hallway, his face hard with anger. His eyes were locked onto Dr. Lanik, and Y/N could see the tension in his posture, his fists clenched at his sides.

Dr. Lanik quickly withdrew his hand, a forced smile pulling at his lips. “Connor, I didn’t realize you were here. Just giving y/n a little praise.”

But the way he said it made Y/N’s skin crawl. It wasn’t genuine—it was condescending. And she knew that Dr. Lanik had crossed a line.

Connor didn’t flinch. His eyes stayed focused on Dr. Lanik, his voice low but full of authority. “You don’t touch her. Ever. And you don’t speak to her like that.”

Dr. Lanik, sensing the growing confrontation, tried to deflect. “Relax, Connor. It’s nothing.”

But Connor wasn’t having it. He took a step forward, closing the distance between them. “It’s not nothing,” he said, his tone colder now. “You’re crossing boundaries, and I’m done letting you disrespect my wife. Keep your hands to yourself, and keep your comments professional. If I see this again, I’ll make sure you’re out of here.”

Y/N stood there, her heart pounding in her chest as she watched the two men, feeling a mix of relief and guilt. She knew that Connor was angry, and she hated that he was having to deal with this. But she also couldn’t help the wave of gratitude that flooded her. Connor was always there to protect her, even when she didn’t ask for it.

Dr. Lanik’s smile faltered, his bravado crumbling in the face of Connor’s steely resolve the realisation hitting him. He knew he couldn’t push it any further with Connor standing there. He quickly backed off, his posture defensive. “Fine. But don’t make a scene about it.”

“Next time, I won’t be so nice,” Connor warned, his voice cold and sharp.

As Dr. Lanik walked away, Connor turned to Y/N, his expression softening instantly. He reached for her, his hand gentle on her arm, pulling her close.

“Are you okay?” he asked, his voice full of concern.

Y/N nodded, though she felt the weight of the situation hit her all at once. “I’m fine now, thanks to you. I didn’t want to make things worse for you. I didn’t want to cause more trouble.”

Connor shook his head, his hand gently cupping her face. “You don’t have to protect me, sweetheart. I’m the one who should be looking out for you. You’re mine to protect.”

Y/N swallowed hard, her eyes filling with tears as she looked up at him. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner. I just… I didn’t want to make it harder.”

Connor pulled her into a tight embrace, his arms wrapping around her protectively. “You don’t have to apologize for that. But I want you to know that no one gets to make you feel uncomfortable or unsafe. Not him, not anyone.”

Y/N held onto him tightly, feeling a rush of relief and love. She was so grateful for Connor’s support, for the way he always had her back. And for the first time in a long while, she felt truly safe—knowing that no matter what, Connor would always protect her.

#connor rhodes x yn #connor rhodes x reader #connor rhodes imagine #connor rhodes #defensive Connor #james lanik #chicago med

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ghostchems · 8 months ago

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thief - silco x female!reader - part four

silco finds himself at your door

tags: drug addiction, drug abuse, shimmer, shimmer abuse, KNIFE-PLAY? fucking so hard a table breaks. also some words i think i would like to hear from silco myself. also -gasp- silco tattoos. 18+! mdni! 4.6k words. part one/two/three. ao3 link.

Rain pattered against Silco, drenching his jacket and face—a rhythmic backdrop to the tension hanging in the air. He stood motionless outside your door, his hand suspended over the knob. This wasn't part of your arrangement; you weren't supposed to see each other today. Yet here he was.

The past few days had been a whirlwind of complications, each problem more vexing than the last. Enforcers, emboldened by some unknown factor, were becoming increasingly intrusive, poking their noses into affairs that didn't concern them. He already had a meeting with Marcus scheduled, but his temper was far too flared to handle it now. The chem barons, perhaps sensing weakness, were causing him no end of grief with their incessant demands and power plays. And then there was his daughter, Jinx—she had reached that precarious age where rebellion seemed to be her default state. She didn't just dislike listening; she actively went out of her way to do the opposite of what he asked.

The weight of these problems pressed down on Silco, threatening to crush him under their combined force. But he would manage this, just as he'd managed everything else. His resolve was what had kept him alive throughout it all. He'd found ways to blow off steam over the years. Some more violent than others. The satisfying crunch of bones beneath his fist, the metallic tang of blood in the air—these were familiar comforts. But today, his mind fixated on a different kind of release. He wanted you.

He knew where you lived—a tiny hole in the wall from which he had once sent Sevika to retrieve you. She had described it to him: one room with a table, bunk beds built into the wall. You slept on the bottom bunk, while the top served as storage for your clothes. No cabinets for food. Silco's hand tightens around the doorknob. What was he doing here? He could have had you brought to him again if all he truly wanted was a quick fuck.

Silco is running—running from his responsibilities, seeking to exert power and control over someone. Over you.

The door burst open with a resounding crash, jolting you from your slumber. In an instant, your hand flew beneath your pillow, fingers wrapping around the familiar handle of your knife. Heart pounding, you spring up, blade at the ready—only to freeze as your vision clears.

"Silco?" you breathe, lowering the knife but not releasing it entirely. "What are you—"

He cuts you off, striding into the small room with purpose. "What am I doing here?” He echoes, eyes narrowing. You still have the knife pointed in his direction, your heart thundering in your ears. The last time someone had broken into your home, they'd knocked you out and left a nasty bruise on your forehead—all for him. But seeing Silco here now... you feel weak. The knife wobbles in your hand. "You should know why I'm here," Silco growls, his voice low and dangerous. He slinks closer, the power of his presence rendering you unable to move. Your brain has short circuited. This is outside of the norm you’ve established and just seeing him makes your body pulse with need.

In a swift motion, Silco grips your wrist, his fingers digging into your skin as he wrenches the knife from your grasp. A gasp rips from your throat and your eyes lock with his, the tension in the room building. He brings the blade up to your chin, the cold steel forcing your head to tilt upward towards him. You can feel his breath, hot against your face, see the hunger burning in his mismatched eyes. They swallow you whole. You feel like you’re still trying to play catch up but his intentions are clear. With a low growl, he closes the distance between you. His lips crash against yours in a vicious kiss, all teeth and tongue, demanding and possessive.

The knife slams into the table with a resounding thud, its blade quivering as it stands upright in the worn wood. Silco's now-free hand tangles in your hair, pulling you closer. You respond with equal fervor, your body melting into his, despite the dampness of his clothes. The kiss deepens, growing more heated with each passing second. Your bodies press closer, the dampness of Silco's clothes seeping into your thin shirt. Just as you feel yourself getting lost in the moment, he abruptly breaks away, leaving you breathless and slightly dazed.

His fingers trace along your face, following the curve of your cheek down to your jaw. The touch is gentle, almost tender—a stark contrast to the ferocity of the kiss moments ago. You lean into his hand, your eyes searching his face. These softer touches have become more frequent lately, each one a tantalizing taste of something deeper.

"I thought I was in trouble," you murmur, your voice barely above a whisper.

Silco's lips curl into a smirk, his eyes glinting with a mixture of amusement and cruelty. The fact that you worry about such things makes heat pool in his gut. "Not yet," he replies, his voice low and full of promise. The words send a shiver down your spine. He takes a step back and drapes his rain-soaked coat over the back of the chair, the wet fabric leaving a dark stain on the worn wood. His gaze rakes over you, taking in your disheveled appearance. You suddenly feel exposed, becoming aware of your state of undress. The thin fabric of your T-shirt did little to shield you from his heated eyes, and you fought the urge to cover yourself with your arms. Silco's expectant look bores into you, a silent demand that sent a shiver down your spine. This is uncharted territory. He had never shown up unannounced like this before, and the change from your usual arrangement left you feeling off-balance and vulnerable.

"I... I would have cleaned up if I knew you were coming. Wasn’t expecting you," you manage to stammer out, your voice barely above a whisper. Your hand instinctively moved to smooth down your untamed hair, a futile attempt at composure in the face of his intense presence.

Silco's lips curled into a smirk, that predatory gleam still in his eyes. "Clearly," he drawled, his voice a low rumble that seemed to vibrate through the small room. "But here I am. And you know what I want."

You're surprised to find that your usual craving for shimmer is absent. Instead, your entire being is focused on the man before you, on giving him exactly what he needs. His presence alone seems to be intoxicating enough. You lean forward, your lips seeking his, but at the last moment, Silco tilts his head away. Undeterred, your mouth finds purchase on his jaw, trailing soft kisses along the sharp angle before moving down to his neck. Your hands, meanwhile, busy themselves with his clothing, fingers working deftly to undo the buttons of his vest and dress shirt.

As you work, you can feel the tension in Silco's body, the taut muscles beneath your exploring hands. His breath hitches slightly as your lips brush against a particularly sensitive spot on his neck, and you file that information away for future use. The layers of his clothing fall away, revealing more and more of his skin. You take your time, savoring each newly exposed inch, your touches hungry. All the while, Silco remains still, allowing you to work, his good eye half-lidded but watchful, gauging your every move.

You peel away the last layer of his clothing, your eyes widen in surprise. Silco's skin is adorned with intricate tattoos, each one a work of art etched into his flesh. Two syringes trail along his v-lines, their needles pointing downward towards his cock. On his left pectoral, a fierce shark seems to swim across his skin, its presence as intimidating as the man himself. Your gaze shifts to his right pec, where a dagger appears to be cutting through his very skin. Your fingers trace the outlines of these tattoos, feeling the slightly raised skin beneath your touch. You look up at Silco, a question in your eyes. He meets your gaze unflinchingly, a smirk playing at the corners of his mouth.

"Surprised?" he asks, his voice low and husky. You barely have time to nod before Silco's hands are on you, pushing you back against the table. The edge digs into your lower back as he presses his body against yours, his skin hot against your thin shirt. His hands drift down your sides, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. Suddenly, his fingers close around the handle of the knife still embedded in the table. With a swift motion, he yanks it free, the blade glinting in the dim light. Your breath catches in your throat as he brings the knife to your collar.

"Don't move," he growls, an order. The cold steel slides against your skin as he begins to cut away your shirt, the fabric parting easily under the sharp blade. Your heart pounds in your chest, heavy breathes leaving your lips as Silco methodically destroys your clothing, leaving you exposed to his hungry gaze. It slips off your body, leaving you in your underwear.

Silco begins to trail the knife along your collarbone. Your breath hitches, a mixture of fear and anticipation coursing through you. Slowly, deliberately, he guides the knife downward, the flat of the blade gliding over the swell of your breasts. Your skin prickles, every nerve ending hyper-aware of the dangerous caress. Silco's eyes are glued to your exposed body. The knife's path leaves a trail of tingling sensation in its wake, contrasting with the heat emanating from his body pressed against yours. You can feel his rapid heartbeat echoing your own.

"Beautiful," he murmurs, his voice low and husky. The single word sends a jolt of electricity through your body, igniting a fire deep within you. You're acutely aware of your vulnerability, completely at his mercy - and yet, you've never felt more alive.

You feel a sharp sting just beneath your breast. A small gasp escapes your lips as you realize Silco has nicked your skin with the knife. His eyes don’t change, still cool and icy.

"My apologies," he murmurs, his voice low and husky. "I got... carried away." You know he doesn’t mean it.

Before you can respond, Silco leans down, his hot breath ghosting over the small wound. His tongue darts out, lapping at the tiny droplets of blood that have formed. The sensation sends a shiver through your body, a mix of pain and pleasure that leaves you breathless. Silco's tongue continues its ministrations, soothing the cut with gentle, circular motions. The contrast between the cold steel of the knife and the warm wetness of his tongue is intoxicating. You find yourself arching into his touch, craving more of this dangerous attention.

As if reading your thoughts, Silco's mouth moves from the small cut to your breast. His lips close around your nipple, his tongue swirling around the sensitive bud. A soft moan escapes your lips as he alternates between gentle sucking and light grazing with his teeth. His free hand cups your other breast, kneading the soft flesh and teasing the nipple with his thumb. The knife, still in his hand, trails along your side, cold compared to the heat of his mouth. The dual sensations send shivers through your body, heightening your arousal. You silently beg for more as your hand cards through his wet hair.

Silco's eyes darken with unbridled desire. His voice commanding and dark makes you shiver. "Turn around," he all but hisses, another order.

You comply without hesitation, your body thrumming with anticipation. As you turn, Silco's hand presses firmly between your shoulder blades, bending you over the table. The wood creaks beneath your heated skin, making you gasp. His body looms over you, his presence overwhelming your senses. You can feel the heat radiating from him, his arousal evident as it presses against you. Silco's breath is hot against your ear as he leans in close.

"Good girl," he murmurs, his praise sending a jolt of pleasure through you. His hands trail down your sides, gripping your hips with a possessive intensity that leaves you breathless. Silco's voice drops to a smokey whisper. "You're almost perfect," he says, his words sending your head spinning. Almost? You hear something being placed beside your head on the table. Turning slightly, your breath catches in your throat as you see a syringe filled with shimmering liquid, its needle pointed directly at your eye.

The sight of the shimmer so close, combined with Silco's words, sends a conflicting wave of desire and fear through you. You're acutely aware of your vulnerability, bent over the table with Silco looming behind you, and now the temptation of the drug right beside you. Your heart races, all the tension building inside of you until it’s unbearable. The proximity of the shimmer sends your senses into overdrive, your skin prickling with heightened sensitivity. Your fingers twitch involuntarily, itching to reach for the syringe. The craving builds within you, a familiar yet intense desire that threatens to overshadow everything else.

But even as your body yearns for the drug, another part of you is aware of Silco's presence behind you. His touch, his scent, the heat of his body – they all compete with the allure of the shimmer. A soft whimper escapes your lips, your conflicted desires evident in the sound. You press your forehead against the cool surface of the table, trying to ground yourself amidst the swirling sensations. Your breath comes in short, rapid gasps as you struggle to maintain control, your body trembling with need – but whether for the shimmer or for Silco, you're no longer sure.

Suddenly, you feel Silco's hand on your arm, his grip firm and unyielding. Before you can react, there's a sharp sting as the needle pierces your skin. The cool liquid rushes into your veins, and within seconds, your world explodes into a kaleidoscope of sensations. Your muscles tense involuntarily, every fiber of your being coming alive with an electric intensity. You can feel each individual muscle contracting, the sensation both painful and exquisitely pleasurable. Silco’s eyes are on you, leaning back now so he can watch as the drug consumes you. Your back arches, pressing you further against Silco, who groans in response to your writhing form.

"That's it," Silco whispers, his voice thick with desire. "Let it take you." His hands roam your body, feeling the way your muscles twitch and spasm under his touch. The dual sensations of the shimmer coursing through you and Silco's exploring hands send you spiraling into a realm of pure sensation. He seems to be electrified by your reaction, his hands never ceasing their exploration of your trembling form. "So beautiful," he praises you again as a gasp falls from your lips.

Your senses are heightened to an almost painful degree. Every touch, every breath, every subtle movement is amplified tenfold. You're lost in a sea of pleasure and pain, your body no longer your own as it responds to both the drug and Silco's ministrations. Through the haze of power and pleasure, you feel Silco shift behind you. The sound of a belt buckle being undone reaches your ears. Your body trembles with anticipation, every nerve ending on fire. Deft fingers remove your underwear.

Silco's hands grip your hips, his fingers digging into your flesh. You feel him position himself at your entrance, the heat of his body radiating against your sensitive skin. With a low groan, he pushes forward, sliding into you with ease, your arousal allowing him a smooth entry. The sensation of him filling you is overwhelming, amplified by the shimmer coursing through your veins. Your muscles clench around him involuntarily, drawing a sharp intake of breath from Silco.

“Perfection.”

He begins to move, his thrusts hard and frantic. The shimmer amplifies every sensation, making you feel as if you're being split apart and remade with each powerful stroke. Your fingers grip the edge of the table, knuckles turning white from the intensity of your grasp. The room fills with the sounds of your combined pleasure - grunts, moans, and the rhythmic slap of skin on skin. Silco's pace becomes increasingly erratic, his control slipping as he chases his release. Your own climax builds rapidly, a white-hot pressure coiling tighter and tighter in your core.

There's a loud crack. The table, unable to withstand the force of your enhanced strength and Silco's relentless pounding, snaps clean in half. You both cry out in surprise as you crash to the floor, a tangle of limbs and splintered wood.

For a moment, you both lie there, stunned. Then, Silco lets out a low chuckle, the sound vibrating through his chest and into yours. "Well," he says, his voice rough with exertion and amusement, "it seems we've made quite a mess." Silco's arms tighten around you, his body still intimately connected with yours. With a grunt, Silco shifts, carefully maneuvering you both away from the splintered remains of the table. He doesn't withdraw from you, instead positioning himself behind you once more. The familiar feeling of his chest pressed against your back sends a shiver down your spine. His breathing is ragged, hot against your neck, betraying his barely contained desire.

Silco's hands grip your hips with an almost bruising force, guiding you onto your hands and knees. "That's it," he husks, the usual coolness of his voice slipping. "Show me how much you want this." His fingers dig into your flesh, a testament to his waning control.

You arch your back, pressing against him as he begins to move. Silco's hands roam your form, alternating between gentle caresses and possessive grips that are sure to leave marks. His touch is frantic, needy, as if he's trying to memorize every inch of your skin. The rhythm builds rapidly, his thrusts becoming more forceful as he takes you from behind. The room fills once again with the sounds of your shared pleasure, punctuated by the occasional creak of the floorboards beneath you. Silco's grunts and groans become more frequent, more primal, as he loses himself in the sensation.

"You're mine," he hisses, one hand snaking up to tangle in your hair. He pulls, not hard enough to hurt, but enough to arch your back further, changing the angle of his thrusts. The new position sends jolts of pleasure through your body, making you cry out. You curse and whine, your nails digging into the floorboards as he rails you.

Silco's other hand slides around to your front, his fingers finding your clit. He rubs in tight circles, his movements becoming more erratic as his own pleasure builds. "Come for me," he demands, his voice rough with need. "Show me how good I make you feel."

“S-Silco!” You gasp, your body convulsing with pleasure. The shimmer makes you feel as if you're floating and crashing to earth all at once. As your climax approaches, you feel Silco tense behind you. His grip on your hips tightens, sure to leave bruises. With a final, powerful thrust, he buries himself deep inside you as he finds his release. He lets out a guttural groan, his body shuddering against yours.

The sensation of him pulsing within you, combined with the shimmer coursing through your veins, sends you over the edge. Your orgasm crashes over you in waves of intense pleasure, your body shuddering and clenching around him. You cry out, your voice hoarse and raw, Silco's name falling from your lips like a prayer.

The aftershocks subside and you collapse onto the floor with Silco following suit, draping himself over your back. Both of you breathe heavily, his arms wrapping around you to keep you close as you both come down from your high. The shimmer continues to buzz through your system. Silco's lips brush against your shoulder, trailing up to your neck. His kisses are softer now, a stark contrast to the roughness of moments before. "You're exquisite," he murmurs against your skin, his tinged with satisfaction. It’s so comfortable like this, to be in his arms on the floor. To be safe with him. You know it won’t last.

Silco's demeanor suddenly shifts, his voice taking on a commanding tone. "Get up," he orders, his hands already moving to disentangle himself from you. "Get dressed. Now."

You comply, albeit reluctantly, your body still humming from the effects of both the shimmer and your intense encounter. As you stand, you notice the tattered remains of your shirt on the floor, torn apart by Silco's earlier fervor. A small sigh escapes your lips as you pick up the ruined shirt. "You destroyed my favorite shirt," you murmur, a hint of disappointment in your voice.

Silco's eyes flick to the torn fabric in your hands, a fleeting look of amusement crossing his features before his expression hardens once more. "I'll find you a new one," he states matter-of-factly, already buttoning up his own shirt with swift, practiced movements, hiding away his recently discovered tattoos.

You rummage through your belongings, finally finding a sweatshirt you've sewn together yourself and a pair of tattered sweatpants. You slip them on, acutely aware of how disheveled you must look compared to Silco and his tailored suit. He’s composed and put-together despite his coat still soaking wet. You, on the other hand, are a mess of patchwork fabric and frayed edges. His gaze sweeps over you, his expression unreadable. You can't help but feel a twinge of self-consciousness under his scrutiny.

Silco's eyes narrow as he takes in your appearance. "Come with me," he commands, his tone leaving no room for argument. Without waiting for a response, he strides towards the door, expecting you to follow.

You hurry after him, stepping out into the damp streets of Zaun. The rain has lessened to a light drizzle, but the air is still thick with moisture and the ever-present chemical haze. You walk beside Silco and you can't help but notice the stark contrast between you two. People on the street turn to stare as you pass. Some eyes linger on Silco with a mixture of fear and respect, while others dart to you with curiosity and confusion. The weight of their gazes makes you ever more aware of how out of place you are beside him.

Feeling increasingly self-conscious, you pull up the hood of your sweatshirt, trying to shrink into it. The fabric, worn thin in places, offers little protection against the scrutiny of passersby. You can't help but feel like a stray cat walking alongside a sleek panther. Silco, for his part, seems utterly unaffected by the attention. He walks with purpose, his stride confident and unhurried. The crowd parts before him, people stepping aside to clear his path. It's a stark reminder of his status in Zaun, of the power he wields.

As you continue to walk beside him, you can't shake the feeling of being an outsider. In the privacy of your home, the differences between you and Silco seemed to matter less. But out here, in the open streets of Zaun, those differences are thrown into your face. You follow Silco through the winding streets of Zaun, your mind hazy from the shimmer still coursing through your veins. Eventually, he leads you into a dimly lit alleyway, the air thick with the stench of chemicals and decay.

Silco stops abruptly, turning to face you. "Do you know where we are?" he asks, his voice low and intense.

You glance around, the surroundings vaguely familiar. A chill runs down your spine as recognition dawns. "This is... where you first found me," you whisper.

A grim smile plays on Silco's lips. "Indeed. This is where I took you and… where I saw your potential." His eyes narrow as he studies you. "You were so desperate for shimmer, for the power that it holds. And yet..." He trails off, disappointment evident in his tone. Silco's gaze feels like a physical weight upon you. "You're not doing anything with it," he continues, his voice a mix of frustration and contemplation. "You take the shimmer, feel its effects, and then what? You go home. It's a waste."

His words hang in the air between you, heavy with implication.

"You could punch through that wall now," he says, gesturing to the very wall he had you pressed against moments ago. "Pulverize it into rubble. What's stopping you?"

Your heart races, anxiety and confusion swirling in your mind. The shimmer's effects still linger, making your muscles twitch with untapped power. You open your mouth, but no words come out. You're at a loss, unsure of what he wants from you. Silco steps closer, his presence looming over you. His hand reaches out, cupping your face with unexpected gentleness.

"You're more than just a pretty face," he murmurs, his thumb tracing your cheekbone. "You have so much potential. I see it in you, even if you don't see it yourself."

His words, combined with his gentle touch, send a wave of conflicting emotions through you. The warmth of his hand on your face is comforting, filling a void you didn't realize was there. Yet, the weight of his expectations still hangs heavy in the air. Suddenly, Silco's hands move towards your throat. The shimmer coursing through your veins heightens your reflexes, and before you can even process what's happening, you react instinctively. Your hands shoot out, gripping his shoulders and shoving him forcefully against the alley wall. The impact reverberates through the bricks, and you hear Silco's breath leave him in a rush.

For a moment, you stand there, shocked by your own actions. Your hands are still pressed against Silco's chest, pinning him to the wall. The strength flowing through your muscles is exhilarating, but it also terrifies you.

"I... I won't hurt anyone," you stammer, your voice shaky but determined. You step back, releasing Silco from your grip and almost folding into yourself. Memories of your past flash through your mind - the hunger, the fear, the constant struggle to survive. You shake your head, trying to clear the painful images. Growing up in the lanes… you were hurt and you still hurt to this day from it. You won’t do the same to anyone else.

"What if they deserve it?" Silco purrs, though his gaze remains cold. He straightens his suit, composing himself after your unexpected display of strength. “You have the power to do something. To be someone. And I’ll be here when you realize that.”

With those words hanging in the air, Silco turns and walks away, leaving you alone in the alley. Again.

Hazy eyes drift down to your hands. They clench into fists.

Silco is nearly out of the alley when he hears a loud crack! He turns to watch as that wall comes crumbling down.

#silco x reader #silco arcane #silco x you #silco #arcane Silco #silco arcane x reader #uhhhhh???

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girlsworldillusion · 1 year ago

Text

Masterlist HOTD

💎 Aemond Targaryen 💎

+18 MDI

Ocean's Tear (Siren!Reader - Of all the terribly reckless things you could do, you had chosen one of the most dangerous and destructive: taking an interest in a human.)

Claim (The wine glass shakes and clinks loudly as he places it roughly on the table, but he doesn't care. He doesn't even care if anyone notices as he abruptly follows your steps, leaving the ballroom behind, with a hard gaze and dark features. He would catch up to you. And this time he'll make sure it's not just in a daydream- He will claims you. Truly, indisputably.)

I'd let the world burn for you (Amid the severe consequences of war, Aemond finds himself alone, without the presence and support of his young and sweet wife, who insists on staying away from him, afraid of who he has become. He has been a respectful and patient husband. But tonight he feels like he has finally reached his limit.)

Scream for me little lamb - complete ( I - II ) (Ghostface!Aemond - You don't know him, you haven't even seen him before. Yet this cruel killer is in your mind, entangled like a parasite. For just one night you want to get rid of this feeling - to get rid of him. What's the worst that could happen?)

Your polished hatred flatters me - Slytherin!Aemond ~ HARRY POTTER AU (If there was anything worse than being forced into an arranged marriage with someone you didn't even know, it was that that someone would become your greatest enemy.)

We can't be friends - (Exes to lovers - After a whole year together, he broke up with you like it was no big deal. What happens when you see each other after four months apart? In the middle of Baela's birthday party, can you control yourself enough not to cause a scene? You just need to get through the night and then you can forget again the man who broke your heart, something that becomes increasingly difficult as the hours go by.)

Game Over - (Gamer!Aemond - After putting in the effort to create the perfect romantic night, your plan comes crashing down like a house of cards when your boyfriend dumps you for games.)

Feast of the Gods - (DemonKing!Aemond - You always knew how hopeless humanity was. But when the insanity of men dawns on you, it's then that you realize that their wickedness can always surpass expectations. A retelling of the myth of Hades and Persephone.)

When pretending doesn't matter anymore - (Alpha x Omega Dynamics - Summary: An unexpected heat. An unclaimed Omega. An Alpha fighting for control. An intense combination of events that change your life completely.)

#ella's masterlist #house of the dragon #aemond targaryen #ewan mitchell #hotd #aemond one eye #aemond fanfiction #aemond fic #aemond targaryen x reader #prince aemond #aemond imagine #masterlist

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tswhiisftteedr · 1 year ago

Note

Carmilla x reader NSFW? Specifically, eating out after a long day at work. The two going a few rounds from the pent-up stress?

I’m pissed, please take care of me ☆ One shot

☆ Employer!Carmilla Carmine x Employee!Fem!Reader:

After a shitty day at work, you and your boss who is simultaneously your girlfriend, decide to let the days stress go by ‘working out’ your frustrations.

Warnings: Mature Content, Explicit/Graphic Language, Praise kink, Oral Sex(Both Female Parties Receiving), Bad Spanish, NOT PROOFREAD.

Words: 2549

Note: So this a combination of 3 requests, sorry @hyenalover2630 if you don’t like this cuz that’s not what you asked for, I did a one shot instead of headcannon so sorry agin but I though rounding up similar requests would be a smart move. Also this one shot is a bit on the shorter side so that’s that.

Author Note: Soooo, I’m back from the dead, 38 request in my inbox, 15 of them being just Adam requests lol.

☆ more under the cut. ☆

Finding yourself in hell was more than just a lousy situation—it was a downright nightmare. Amidst the chaos, the moral decay, and the ridiculous housing prices, you were desperate for any job that could keep you afloat. You applied everywhere, except under Valentino; you wanted no part of that mess.

So, it wasn't surprising when you ended up as a grunt in the marketing department at Carmine Inc. But you were a hustler, always quick, efficient, and responsible. Your work ethic didn't go unnoticed, especially by the big boss herself.

You couldn't help but admire her in many ways. She was a badass, running a successful business with an iron fist, yet she had a sense of fairness. And let's not forget, she was easy on the eyes, which only fueled your crush.

After a meeting she personally set up, you scored a promotion to be her personal assistant. But even with the big leap, you didn't slack off. Your efficiency was still on point, and Carmilla appreciated it.

As your role in the company evolved, so did your connection with Carmilla. It all started with those little touches—a hand on your shoulder here, a pat on the head there—that seemed innocent enough at first.

But soon, those gestures became more frequent and intimate, like her guiding hand on your waist or the way she'd ask you to stick around after hours for a chat and a drink.

The formalities started to fade away, with Carmilla calling by your first name and encouraging you to do the same, replacing your usual ‘Mme. Carmine’ by the overlords name. It was like she was inviting you into her inner circle, blurring the lines between boss and friend.

As the months passed and you continued to excel in your role as her assistant, Carmilla couldn't help but notice a shift in her feelings toward you. Your hard work and dedication were undeniable, but it was more than that. She found herself drawn to you in a way she hadn't expected. Plus, the fact that you were a beautiful woman did help in growing her attraction for you.

It became increasingly obvious to Carmilla that you harbored feelings for her as well. Your nervousness whenever she was around spoke volumes, manifesting in stutters and how you would visibly warm up whenever her gaze met yours. It was a telltale sign of the attraction brewing beneath the surface.

Furthermore, she couldn't ignore your subtle cues for validation and compliments. You seemed to thrive on her words of affirmation, going above and beyond in your tasks just to earn a simple ‘great job’ or ‘I'm proud of you, Y/N’ from her lips. ‘And who could blame you? With Carmilla being the hot Hispanic woman she was, who wouldn't want her singing their praises?’

After two months of silently pining for each other, where Carmilla was keenly aware of your feelings while you remained oblivious to hers, she decided it was time to break the stalemate. She orchestrated a meeting after hours, summoning you to her office to address the unspoken tension between you.

As you sat down, she wasted no time in getting to the point. With a mix of nerves and determination, she confessed her own feelings, revealing that she had long known about yours as well. It was a moment of vulnerability for both of you, but also a turning point.

The conversation didn't end there. Carmilla proposed taking a chance on each other, suggesting that you go on a date that weekend to explore the potential of your connection further. You agreed, feeling a mix of excitement and apprehension at what lay ahead.

The subsequent dates were nothing short of magical, filled with laughter, deep conversations, and shared moments of intimacy. With each passing day, your bond grew stronger, and it became increasingly evident that what you shared was more than just a fleeting attraction.

By the fifth date, it was abundantly clear to both of you that you wanted to take things to the next level. Over a candlelit dinner, you shared your hopes and dreams, expressing your desire to make things official. And as you toasted to your newfound love, you knew in your heart that you had found something special amidst the chaos of your workplace.

Despite the enchanting aura that surrounded your relationship with Carmilla that usual had you on cloud nine, today proved to be shitty day nevertheless.

First, there was the debacle with the rogue shipment. Some brainless thugs decided to mess with a Carmine truck, oblivious to the glaring logo emblazoned on its side. Needless to say, they met their demise, but not before causing a heap of trouble.

Then came the catastrophe with the catalog files—a rookie managed to obliterate an entire folder of vital content. The painstaking recovery process left you on edge, uncertain if the files would return unscathed or corrupted.

And if that wasn't enough, that blasted Vox bastard had the audacity to cancel yet another meeting with Carmilla, marking the third time in a row. The gall of him, treating her time as if it were disposable. You couldn't stand that attention-seeking-whore man-child with his oversized ego and incessant need for validation.

As the day dragged on, you finally collapsed onto your bed, still fully dressed save for your shoes. Frustration, exhaustion, and pent-up tension weighed heavily on your shoulders. It was a relief when Carmilla entered the room, her expression mirroring your own.

With a sigh of resignation, she joined you on the bed, her presence offering a sense of comfort amidst the chaos. In that moment, without a word exchanged, you found solace in each other's presence, united in your shared frustration and exhaustion.

Sighing heavily, Carmilla reached for the bottle of beezeljuice resting on the nightstand, taking a generous swig before passing it over to you. You accepted the bottle, mirroring her earlier gesture as you took a deep gulp, relishing in the familiar burn as the liquid slid down your throat. It was a small but comforting ritual, a shared moment of indulgence amidst the chaos of the day.

As the evening steadily slipped away, the weight of your troubles began to dissolve, replaced by a gentle warmth that spread through you like wildfire. You found yourselves leaning closer, your bodies pressed together as you sought solace in each other's embrace. Your lips met in a heated kiss, passion exploding between you like a bolt of lightning.

Your tongues danced a fiery tango, exploring every inch of each other's mouths with a fervor that belied your exhaustion. As your hands wandered, exploring the curves of each other's bodies, you couldn't help but feel a renewed sense of hope. Despite the challenges and tribulations that the afterlife threw at you, you were a force to be reckoned with.

"Acércate, mi amor," Carmilla murmured against my lips, her voice low and sultry as she pulled you closer. "Today has been a living nightmare, but your presence makes everything better. You're the wind beneath my wings, my sweet girl."

Her praise was music to your ears, making your heart flutter and your cheeks flush in delight. To hear her speak such kind words, to know that you brought light into her day was like floating on cloud.

Unable to contain your desire any longer, you broke your kiss, your breaths ragged and hearts pounding in sync. Carmilla's eyes smoldered with hunger as she reached for the buttons of my shirt, skillfully releasing each one until it pooled at my feet. Your undergarments followed suit, leaving you naked and vulnerable in her capable hands.

In turn, you mirrored her actions, slowly peeling away layers of her clothing until she stood before you in nothing but her ballet slippers and stockings. Her skin glowed under the dim light, her statuesque figure an ode to her grace and power. As you gazed upon her, you felt a raw, unbridled hunger stir within you, a primal urge to taste her.

"Mi alma," Carmilla whispered, her voice trembling with anticipation. "Can you be the good girl i know you are, take care me? Will you be a sweetheart and eat me out?."

Without hesitation, you knelt before her, her scent enveloping you as you parted her legs and settled between them. Your fingers traced delicate paths along her calves, sending shivers down her spine.

As you approached her core, Carmilla's fingers threaded through your hair, guiding your head between her legs with an air of completely control that sent shivers down your spine. You reveled in her power over you, knowing that she desired to be in charge, to assert her authority in this moment of vulnerability.

"That's it, mi vida," she purred, her voice a seductive symphony that resonated throughout the room. "Show me how much you love pleasing me."

Your tongue flicked out, teasing the sensitive skin at the apex of her thighs, drawing a gasp from her lips. Her hands tightened in your hair, urging you forward as you dove between her legs. The taste of her was divine, almost making your head spin.

Carmilla moaned softly, her thighs clenching as you explored her folds with reverence. Each stroke of your tongue was deliberate, each flick a testament to your devotion. Her groans of pleasure echoed around you, a symphony of lust that only heightened your desire to please her.

“Eso es todo, lo estás haciendo tan bien, fuck! Keep going, my beautiful girl.”

As you delved deeper, your tongue probing the depths of her pussy, Carmilla's moans grew louder, her body arching with each stroke. Her fingers twisted in your hair further, grinding you against her with a firm hand that you hungered for. This display of dominance was intoxicating, igniting a fire within you that mirrored her own passion.

"Just like that, mi corazón," she encouraged, her voice thick with lust. "You’re being such a good girl for me.”

Your actions became more fervent, your lips and tongue working in concert to bring her pleasure. Her hips bucked in response, her sighs and gasps filling the room with the soundtrack of our passion. You reviled in her reactions, feeding off her energy as you explored every inch of her tender flesh.

Carmilla's breath hitched, her grip on your hair stronger than ever before as she neared her climax. Her body trembled beneath you, her whispered praises— ‘That’s my girl’, ‘So proud of you, you’re doing such a great job’, ‘I love you so much my beautiful girl’— urging you onward.

As she reached her peak, Carmilla's back arched, her moans filling the room like a thunderous roar, “¡Ya me vengo!”. Her body convulsed, her climax washing over her in waves of ecstasy. You took pride in the role you had played in her release, revelling in her praises as she came down from her high.

Panting, she pulled you upward, her lips claiming yours in a searing kiss that left no doubt as to the power she held over you and the loved you share. "Great job, my love," she breathed against your lips. "Your tongue truly is a work of art."

Then, without warning, Carmilla reversed your roles. With a swift motion, she pushed you onto your back, her eyes gleaming with newfound determination. Your heart raced as she positioned herself between your legs, her gaze never leaving yours.

"Now, it's your turn," she growled, her voice deep and sensual. "Spread your legs for me, Y/N."

You obeyed without a moment of resistance, your nerves jangling with anticipation as she lowered her head. Her tongue darted out, tracing a path that sent shivers cascading through you.

Each touch was electric, her tongue exploring every inch of your body with a precision that left you breathless. Her absolute control and expertise was entrancing, and you craved more. Your hands gripped the sheets, seeking purchase as she continued her exploration.

With every lick and suck, you grew closer to the edge, your moans mingling with her satisfied hums. It wasn't long before you could bear it no longer, and with a “Go for it, sweet girl”, your body thrashed beneath hers as you climaxed. Waves of pleasure washed over you, leaving you weak and breathless.

When you finally came down from your high, Carmilla lifted her head, her eyes gleaming with satisfaction. "Perfect," she purred, her voice a siren's song that enchanted you as if you were a sailor.

As soon as your senses were regained, Carmilla had wasted no time in resuming her ministrations. Her tongue dove back into the folds of my heat, her appetite for pleasure seemingly insatiable. You writhed beneath her, unable to contain the surge of pleasure that coursed through me.

Her fingers dug into your hips, holding you steady as she feasted on you with unwavering passion. Your moans filled the room once more, intertwining with her satisfied grunts. The intensity of her attack overwhelmed you, pushing you to the brink once more.

Overstimulated by her persistent attention, you cried out as you climaxed once more, your body shaking with the force of the experience. When you finally came down, panting heavily, Carmilla released you, her eyes shining with victory.

"Now, that's what I call some well spent frustration," she said, her voice still thick with desire yet quite comforting and sweet. "What do you say we take a moment to catch our breath?"

You nodded, your body still trembling from the intensity of the intercourse. As you lay there, your hearts pounding in sync, you couldn't help but marvel at the relationship you shared. Despite you differences, your love had brought you together in a way that felt both natural and exhilarating.

Carmilla's hand traced lazy circles on your stomach, her thumb brushing across your navel as she gazed into your eyes.

The quiet was a welcome relief, but there was something eating at you that you just had to vent about. "Okay, but seriously, that Vox dude is a major asshole, right? I mean, he's practically begging for a meeting and then bails three freaking times in a row. Am I the only one who thinks that TV demon is just a whiny little prick?”

"Mi amor, the beacon of my day and the guiding star of my night—" Carmilla responded emphatically. "I couldn't fucking agree more with you. That guy, and his associates, are just a bunch of overgrown kids with way too much damn power for anyone's good. If it weren't for you and my daughters, I swear to Santa Maria I'd probably have blown my fucking brains out by now dealing with their goddamn irresponsible behavior.”

After Carmilla's passionate outburst, silence descended once again, but it didn't last long. Before you knew it, both of you were erupting into fits of laughter, finding humor in the absurdity of it all.

You both instinctively drew closer, holding each other tighter than before. Despite the shitty day you had endured, there was comfort in each other's embrace.

As you nestled against each other, a thought crossed your mind: ‘maybe karma was real after all.’ If finding reassurance in Carmilla's arms was your reward after such a terrible day, perhaps the universe's scales were fairer than you had previously believed.

Thanks anons and @hyenalover2630 for requesting!

©tswhiisfttedr. dn translate, or plagiarize.

Tip Me (Ko-Fi) & And support my art account @maviscarlettie

You can now commission me!

Reblogs help!!! (Request Are On Pause)

#tswhiisftteedr #hazbinhotel #hazbin hotel smut #hazbin hotel x reader #Hazbin hotel #hazbin x reader #hazbin x you #hazbin x y/n #hazbin hotel x y/n #hazbin hotel x you #carmilla #carmilla carmine #hazbin hotel carmilla #carmilla x reader #carmilla carmine smut #carmilla carmine x reader #carmilla carmine x you #carmilla smut

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stardustlin · 2 years ago

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you please yourself and miguel catches you

warning: 18+, p in v, dom! miguel, sub! reader, masturbating (fingering)

its been a lonely night all by yourself as you opened the gates of heaven between your legs as you pumped a couple fingers inside of you, eliciting moans that sounded like angels singing in a cacophony of pleasant sounds. you thought you were alone so you let yourself go and be loud as your body had wanted you to be as you reacted to the way your own fingers curled against your g-spot. you felt lonely without miguel who was out in the city protecting those who needed his protection as spider-man 2099. your husband wasn’t always there and that meant you both couldn’t be as intimate as you wanted. you respected that finding ways to pleasure yourself whether it be your fingers or sex toys (vibrators and dildos). miguel knew that as he never pressed on the matter—he truly did feel bad but what was he supposed to do when he’s the spider-man of nueva york?

on the same night that you were pleasuring yourself, you thought you were alone but you weren’t. what you didn’t know was your husband, miguel, had already arrived home but he was listening in by the door of the bedroom you both shared. he heard your loud airy moans and the squelching sounds of your now soaked pussy swallowing your fingers as you pumped them fast in and out of you. he felt himself get hard hearing you be loud thinking you were alone. he even heard you call out his name while you were fantasizing about your own husband fucking you like the dirty slut that you were for him. he started to palm his hard cock that was now leaking precum onto his mesh suit. miguel couldn’t take it anymore as he felt desire and a need to fuck you senseless take over his body. he opened the door to the beautiful you of you squirting from finger-fucking you swollen pussy.

panic flickers within you as you realize that miguel has caught you in this vulnerable moment. before you can react, he swiftly moves towards you, an intense and dominant aura surrounding him. he locks eyes with you, his gaze piercing through you, and a mix of surprise and amusement dances across his face.

“so, enjoying yourself without my permission, are you?" he murmurs, his voice laced with a combination of dominance and tantalizing curiosity. he crosses the room in a few strides and stands before you, a clear intent in his eyes.

without a word, miguel takes control of the situation. he grasps your hand and forcefully pulls it away from your throbbing core, denying you the pleasure you were seeking. his grasp tightens around your wrist, asserting his authority.

“you forget that your pleasure belongs to me," he asserts firmly, his dominant demeanor unyielding. "you will learn to seek my permission before indulging in such acts in the future."

as a punishment for your disobedience, miguel pushes you against the nearest surface, his body pressing against yours with an almost suffocating force. he takes control of your body, his hands exploring and claiming you with a possessive hunger. he then guides your body and pushed you down over the desk, “since you’re been fingering your self, how about i fuck you so good???”

“please—yes!” you moan out as you feel him pushes his cock into your pussy as his hands grip onto your hips. the sight of your tears only seemed to further ignite the desire and possessiveness within miguel. miguel’s eyes darkened with a mix of dominance and concern as he gripped your hips tightly, his thrusts becoming more forceful. his lips brushed against your ear as he spoke, his voice husky with desire. "surrender to me," he whispered, his words filled with a primal need. "let me give you the pleasure you deserve." as the pleasure overwhelmed you, the need to suppress your moans became increasingly difficult. the raw intensity of the moment, the feeling of being completely consumed by miguel. he was relentless and showed no mercy. your husband was hungry to pleasure you and you let him take you completely.

the pleasure merging with the sharp sting of tears that streamed down your face. the combination of sensations, the ecstasy of miguel filling you from behind, pushed you to the brink of ecstasy.

miguel’s movements became even more relentless, his grip tightening on your hips as he thrust deep within you. your walls clenched around him as you climaxed, your release gushing over his hard length, splashing onto his skin. “oh my fucking god,” you moaned out as you laid on top of the desk…miguel picked you up quickly and laid you softly onto the bed.

“how’s my pretty wife doing tonight?” he peppered kisses and made sure you were satisfied.

#spiderman atsv #spider man: across the spider verse #miguel o'hara #miguel o’hara x reader #atsv x reader #miguel spiderman #spider person #miguel o’hara x y/n #miguel o’hara smut #🌱 lin writes

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scraftyisthebest · 2 months ago

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It's becoming increasingly clear that Liko will have to bear the weight of the Rising Volt Tacklers' tarnished reputation after Spinel's framing of them as troublemakers and a dangerous group of people throughout the show. First at Indigo Academy and now in the upcoming episode against the Nidothing fan who apparently switches up attitude against Liko after finding out she's one of the Rising Volt Tacklers.

Like no one at her school knew about it until she came out with it, which is why she kept on the down low about it for a whole year, but now that she's unapologetically open about it she bears the public menace reputation herself. She was afraid of the fallout and her own reputation but now she's unapologetically open.

Even though Liko (and Roy and Dot too) is working to clear the RVT's name through this adventure, and she now will have to bear the burden of her reputation preceding her for a long while, I find her recent transition to being proudly open about her being a Rising Volt Tackler to be interesting, especially in tandem with her current set of mons.

Like her first partner is a Meowscarada now, and it's a Grass/Dark type, Dark-type being "Evil-type" in Japanese, and the type is predicated on dirty, underhanded fighting tactics, even if the Pokemon in it are not always malevolent. Meowscarada is an illusionist and trickster, and its signature move is Flower Trick, which involves juggling several invisible flower bombs, making them invisible, and then detonating the one the opponent least expects, while it also has Sucker Punch, which is Surprise Attack in Japanese, and it basically rapidly strikes an attacking opponent first before they can attack, hence surprise attack or "sucker punch", a cheap shot at the expense of the opponent, which is now another STAB technique Liko's cat has now. Liko has fully embraced this kind of battling style, and her observational skills, a great strength of hers in battle, combined with these make her and Meowscarada a threat that predicate themselves on being cunning, deceptive, and tricking, fighting in the most dirty, underhanded, yet tactical ways. A big moment for her that sticks with me is when she, Roy, and Dot were facing Geeta, and Liko literally had Floragato use Sucker Punch on Roy's Crocalor, her own ally, to force Crocalor's attack to fail, leading to a powered up Stomping Tantrum that hit Geeta's Glimmora extra hard. Like damn, that's efficient, but dirty.

Her Hattrem hasn't become a Hatterene yet, but right now it's a species that violently beats up anything with strong emotion, which Liko's Hattrem does with Brutal Swing. But Hatterene takes it to another level where it's malevolent and murderous, blasting any intruders, especially those who are loud or emotional, with a powerful beam and then slashing them with the claws on its tentacle imbued with psychic energy, or using its psychic power to cause headaches, and it's such a menace that forests where it live have no life around. Also, back in MPM a Hatterene took advantage of a heartbroken Brock by luring him in and then manipulating him into a loop of love and heartbreak and actively enjoying feeding off his pain, which adds to the dark twist on Hatterene. So like, Liko having one in the future adds even more flavor there.

So like, those two really stand out now as Liko's mons in light of her current situation. It's speculation at the moment but people are speculating based on merch and recent promotions that Liko might get a Litwick, and if she does get one it would fit the throughline not only in how Chandelure has a magical/sorcerer vibe (with Meowscarada being a magician and Hatterene being a witch) but also in dark/malevolent vibes. Litwick and Lampent drain the life force of those around them, targeting those who are vulnerable and on the verge of death, while Chandelure actively tears the spirit away from the body and burns it, leaving the individual's physical body a lifeless husk while the soul is doomed to wander the world eternally, never entering eternal rest in the afterlife.

Like that's really interesting. Even though Liko is a kind, empathetic, and caring soul, that throughline and theme draws a sense of cunning, deception, trickery, and perhaps even malice. I'm not saying she's gonna turn evil, she's obviously the hero, but especially after her open and proud acknowledgement of her identity as a member of the Rising Volt Tacklers (which Ann supported), she's on her way to not only bearing the negative villainous public reputation of the Rising Volt Tacklers, even as she works to clear their name, but in a way embracing that reputation as a troublemaker and a danger and menace to society. It's almost like Liko is basically embracing her inner dark side, not in such a way where she goes full "I'm evil" but rather a "I'm manipulative, cunning, cruel, and ruthless, and I'm a menace and a danger, but I can still be a hero" kind of embrace. It's kind of a beautiful spin on how Liko could end up dealing with the negative rep that she now bears, not by denying it, basically not a black-and-white "I was framed as the villain but I'm actually good", but rather embracing the reputation Spinel enforced on her as something that is in a way real, and she is a dangerous, menacing person with some "evil" traits, but even someone like her can still be a hero. Basically taking that reputation Spinel gave her and owning it in her own way.

I posted a while back about the idea of Liko donning a superhero identity, especially with Floragato and now Meowscarada's superhero aesthetic and battling style, which is amplified by Meowscarada's masked appearance and theatrical vibe, but I love the idea even more now in this regard because Liko going full masked vigilante would be really fitting, having an alter ego as a rogue vigilante who no one truly knows who she is and she takes her enemies down in the most ruthless ways, but establishes justice in taking down the bad guys of society. Floragato's vine swinging was very Spider-Man like which would fit even better because Spider-Man in many iterations, like the Raimi movies and Insomniac's PlayStation Spider-Man series, regularly has to deal with J. Jonah Jameson shittalking and slandering him over the press (and in the Insomniac Spider-Man games, over a podcast) and calling him a menace to society, which would fit Liko just as well given her current public reputation.

I really like the idea of Liko going this way really, not by forgoing her own inherent kindness entirely, but by integrating it with traits that are seen as "evil" that give her a really strong duality: she's kind and benevolent, yet formidable and cunning and isn't above doing things that are traditionally perceived as "evil' to win. Embracing the bad reputation of the RVT and unleashing her darker traits, being a manipulative, cunning, ruthless, and cruel person when she wants to be, while reconciling that with her inherent kindness, empathy, and benevolence, would be a fascinating turn of events. Liko showing darker or more evil traits like ruthlessness, manipulation, cunning, and cruelty wouldn't even be entirely unfounded either: it's something that very feasibly runs in the family for her and she inherited, especially when you look at her grandmother Diana, who was willing to murder Tepen back in Episode 28 out of anger over Tepen's deception, literally ordering her Arcanine to burn Tepen to a crisp. Liko eventually showing that kind of ruthlessness and cunning and embracing it would be really cool in that regard, not so much in a purely evil way but showing even someone with a dark side like herself can be a real hero.

#pokemon #anipoke #pokemon horizons #pokeani #pokemon 2023 #liko #pokemon liko #trainer liko #rising volt tacklers #rising volteccers #long ass post #neurodivergent ramble #but i love the idea so much

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neurotica-tales · 19 days ago

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could you write yandere/possesive astrid please?

Yandere Astrid Headcanon

Thank you for your request @cosmic-c0met. I hope you like it!

Up Next: Yandere Hiccup Headcanon, The First Kindness (Yandere Tuffnut x Reader) To find my master list, click HERE.

~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~

"You're mine. You don’t get to decide that. You just need to stay close, and love me like you already do."

Astrid has always defined herself by strength.

In a village where weakness was punished and admiration had to be earned with sweat, blood, and steel, Astrid learned early that love wasn’t given—it was won. Not through softness, but victory. She was a shieldmaiden long before she ever held a shield.

Then you showed up.

A traveler that appeared on Berk one day.

You weren’t a warrior. Not really. Maybe you’d been trained. Maybe you could defend yourself in a pinch. But you weren’t like her. And yet… when you looked at her, really looked, your gaze was steady.

Not impressed. Not dismissive. Just—present. As if you saw her, not her titles or accolades. Like she was human.

That unsettled her more than any enemy blade.

You said her swing was graceful. That watching her move was like watching a storm choose where to land. You left before realizing what those words did to her.

No one had ever described her with poetry before. No one had made her feel soft without insulting her strength.

That night, she skipped dinner and stared at the ceiling of her hut, hands clenched tight, your voice echoing in her ears until the candle burned low.

She thought of your smile until morning.

And over the next several days—much to her growing frustration—Astrid finds it impossible to keep you out of her thoughts. No matter how hard she tries to bury the fluttering ache in her chest, your voice echoes in her mind at the worst possible times.

In an effort to silence it, she throws herself deeper into her training. Every spare moment is consumed with rigorous drills, her strikes sharper, faster, more brutal than ever.

She designs new sparring routines and tests herself against increasingly difficult combinations, demanding perfection from her movements until her muscles burn.

With Stormfly, she runs aerial simulations at dawn and dusk, refining attack patterns and inventing evasive maneuvers in case of future encounters with dragon hunters. She tells herself it's preparation.

Strategy.

Duty.

No matter how hard she tries, she just couldn't stop remembering your kindness and the way you treat her with gentle respect instead of awe or fear. It makes her chest ache with something she hates to admit is longing.

Astrid hates this.

She hates how unsteady you make her feel. How soft. How jealous.

Every time she sees someone else make you laugh—especially if it’s Hiccup or Snotlout—her jaw clenches hard enough to ache. She doesn't say anything.

But that night, she trains until her hands bleed. She carves your name into the handle of her axe. Just small. Hidden.

She tells herself it’s just to remember.

She begins journaling—not words, but drawings. Of you. Your face. Your posture. You smiling. You wounded. You sleeping. She hates herself for doing it, even as she fills another page.

She tries to distance herself once. For your sake. One full day without you. She lasts until noon before she’s trembling and furious. She finds you by the beach, laughing with Fishlegs.

He doesn't come to training for three days after that.

Afterwards, she starts observing you more.

Astrid prides herself on awareness. Tactical planning. Observation. So at first, that’s all she’s doing.

Observing and memorizing all your little habits.

What time you wake. The way you tie your boots. How your face looks when you're thinking too hard and your tongue peeks from the corner of your mouth. She counts your steps without meaning to. Learns the rhythm of your laughter. Notices how you linger a little longer in the forge—not for the metal, but the warmth.

But soon enough, only observing you from afar doesn't satisfy her longing, so she finds excuses to be nearby.

You never notice her sharpening her axe in the shadows while you gather wood. Or how she volunteers for lookout duty every time you venture near the cliffs. Or how she walks behind you in silence, perfectly out of sight, just to make sure you get home safe.

She starts to notice the people around you, too. The ones who talk to you too long. Who look at you the way she looks at you.

After that, Astrid starts showing up more often. At first it’s subtle—training near where you’re working, inviting you to spar, walking with you when you leave the village.

Then it becomes more deliberate.

She corrects your technique before you ask. She gives you tips before a hunt. She warns you—gently—about people who might not have your best interests at heart.

“Oh, Ruffnut? She likes to play with people’s feelings. I’d stay away.”

“Oh, that trader? Yeah, no. He’s not… safe.”

She’s always polite. Warm. You never feel pressured. But little by little, your world starts to shrink. The people you spend time with become her approved circle. You start seeing her everywhere, and it feels natural. Comfortable.

You don't realize you haven’t spent a full day away from her in weeks.

By now, you spend nearly every day with Astrid. It just… happens. You never agreed to it, but her presence fits into your day like a rhythm you didn’t know you needed.

She gives you training tips. Puts extra food on your plate. Lends you her cloak when it rains—not because you’re cold, but because she’s cold when you are.

She starts gifting you weapons. Not generic ones—custom-forged, adjusted for your grip, balanced for your strength.

“I made it for you,” she says with a smile that doesn't reach her eyes. “So if you ever need to fight beside me… you’ll be ready.”

You laugh, trying to brush it off, but she doesn’t. Her fingers linger on your wrist.

“I’m serious. I want you safe.”

The blade is too nice to refuse. The sentiment too intimate to question.

You wear it every day.

What you didn’t realize, however, was that on Berk, gifting someone a weapon wasn’t just a gesture of kindness—it was a silent confession of love.

And by accepting it, you had unknowingly sealed a bond with Astrid, one that, in the eyes of her people… meant the two of you were now together.

There’s a small, silent part of Astrid that understands she’s crossed a line. That if Hiccup—or anyone, really—ever uncovered the full extent of it all—the silent tracking, the carefully crafted lies, the quiet manipulation—they’d stare at her like they didn’t even know who she was.

But they don’t see it. Not truly.

She wears her loyalty like armor and her smile like a shield. No one ever questions the golden girl of Berk—the chief’s most trusted, the flawless second-in-command.

And she intends to keep it that way.

While everyone else sees the picture-perfect warrior, she’s steadily, quietly rearranging your entire world around her. Your routines. Your relationships. Your choices.

You just haven’t noticed yet.

And if, one day, you do? If you somehow piece it all together?

She’ll smile. Calm. Unshaken.

Because by then, it’ll be far too late.

After all…

As if she’d ever let you leave her.

~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~

Tags: @cosmic-c0met

#yandere #httyd #how to train your dragon #yandere httyd #yandere Astrid #astrid hofferson #yandere how to train your dragon #astrid #female yandere

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tashacee · 10 months ago

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Step By Step - Chapter One

A Mask!Wild Fic

Wild shifted uncomfortably from foot to foot, hoping beyond hope that they had the right combination for the puzzle before them.

They had been in this dungeon for nearly a week now, slowly making progress through its apparently endless puzzles and minibosses. They had finally reached the end - Wild himself had struck the killing blow on the boss - and were trying to leave, only to find that there was one more puzzle to solve to unlock the door out.

Because of course there was.

It was an incredibly tedious puzzle, solvable only by the Chain going back through the entire damn dungeon to find the clues painted into increasingly cryptic murals on each floor.

It was long winded. It was annoying. It felt like lazy dungeon design.

And Wild really, really wanted to get outside.

The past few weeks had been hard on all of them. After a visit to a busy marketplace, Sky had fallen ill with what they at first thought was a cold and what had quickly devolved into a vicious vomiting bug. Then Four and Legend had fallen ill. Then Time, Wind, and Spirit. The sickness slowly began to creep its way through the Chain, another getting sick every time one began to recover.

Wild had tried to help out. He honestly had - he already wore a mask and he often wore gloves, so he already had an advantage when it came to avoiding infection. And even at that, he did his utmost to try and stay safe. The idea of getting sick while on the road, while surrounded by his brothers whose opinions he valued so much, was simply unacceptable to him. He couldn’t let it happen. He wouldn’t.

And yet it had.

Read the rest on AO3!

#it me #replies #mask!wild #finding family #step by step #linked universe #lu #linked universe fic #linked universe fanfic #fanfic

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edges-of-night · 9 months ago

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Hi! I'm sure everyone tells you this, but I absolutely love your writing. Seeing your new posts always brightens my day :) It's a silly request, but could I ask for the elves reacting to a reader who's a Starfleet officer/from the Star Trek universe? TYSM and sorry if this isn't what you usually do

Thank you for your kind words, anon! It always brightens my day to hear that this blog brings people joy ♡

As for your request: People who’ve seen my main blog will know I’m a Trekkie, so I couldn’t let this classic fandom crossover slide haha! I’ve turned Reader into a Vulcan working as a Starfleet officer who ends up in Middle-Earth by accident (damned transporter interference…)

Enjoy the read and – of course – live long and prosper!

･ﾟ✧ Arwen.

Arwen is probably one of the best inhabitants of Middle-Earth to run into if you’re stranded in an unknown place. Whether you get beamed into Rivendell or to the riverbends of the Bruinen, the Elven lady is quick on her feet and recognises you as someone in need of help – especially when others speak of you with great suspicion. “Do not listen to their words. They have no meaning where my heart is concerned.”

Arwen is kind and curious, making it increasingly hard for you to follow the Prime Directive. She must not know about your starship, but of course it is senseless to try and hide your worries from her attentive gaze. Though she might not know of your dilemma exactly, she promises to help you find your way back home and always wants to make sure you’re comfortable in this strange world, being openly affectionate and sometimes even touchy with you – until she sensed that holding hands meant a bit more to you than an Elf… ♡

･ﾟ✧ Elrond.

The Lord of Rivendell, Elrond, works almost as logically as a Vulcan, which impresses you. He is a master of knowledge and a lore expert with a vast collection of literature at his disposal. I like the idea that maybe the Prime Directive would not even concern him because he has heard of star-faring people but always considered them legends, until he met you.

Not only is Elrond an intelligent conversationalist – he is also the most considerate and kind host you could have wished for. He respects your drive for finding a solution to your problem but also endows you with comfortable quarters to retreat into, as well as a vegetarian menu to eat. To further help you clear your mind, he’d invite you to a session of harp playing. The music is soothing, not too different from your Vulcan lute – and yet entirely new – fascinating!

･ﾟ✧ Galadriel.

The Lady of Light knows of your presence in Middle-Earth even before you yourself do. She immediately senses that something is off and delights when she finally gets to meet you. “How nice to have a face to the stranger on our earthly shores,” she’d whisper in your head. Her fascination with you is intense and maybe even scaring you a bit. However, logic suggests you have nothing to fear of her.

Galadriel’s resources and ancient knowledge, as well as the futility of upholding the Prime Directive, make the search for a way back to your ship easy. Before you go, however, Galadriel would ask you to join her telepathic palace – which you agree to. Her mind meld is more powerful than any you have ever performed before. It gives you a glimpse into her internal lights that are eons olds and yet young and beautiful. To remember it, Galadriel would give you a strand of her legendary hair as a parting gift ♡

･ﾟ✧ Haldir.

Honestly? Haldir running into a Vulcan might be the funniest combination in this post – the stone faces would be off the charts! At first, the beautiful Elf and his ability to hide his emotions (minus his thinly veiled contempt) would fascinate you, as well as his matter-of-factly duty of keeping you out of Lothlórien. Maybe you’d point out, “It would seem we are both simply following our orders.” – “Indeed.”

However, you can be just as silent and stubborn as Haldir, so the two of you would probably spend an entire night just staring each other down, until he has had enough and finally escorts you to his Lady to make you her problem instead of yours. It is obvious to him that you do not belong here, so his sense of duty makes him care for you – which he would never admit to, of course!

･ﾟ✧ Legolas.

Initially, Legolas would think of you as a fellow Elf lost in Mirkwood, which is good for the Prime Directive but bad for someone as untalented with lying as you. Eventually, you’ll informed him of your suspicion that the two of you belonged to entirely different species. He would ask you about your body then, as well as your workplace and perhaps your family. But after the friendly ‘getting to know you phase’, Legolas knows your weaknesses and will try to mess with you – in a playful and non-hostile but all-too Human way, testing your patience and logic alike.

That said, he will do what he can to help you get back to your world and ask many questions about it. “What is it like? To fare the stars as if they were islands in an ocean? What does the moon look like up close? Oh, there is no moon in your world? There hasn’t always been one here, either. Look that way… up, silly, not at me! You see it…?” ♡

By the way: The young Romulan warrior Elnor, a main character from Star Trek: Picard, has an Elvish name according to the showrunners. One meaning of “el” (as in the names of Elrond and Elros, for example) is star, and “nor” means run. In both Sindarin and Quenya, dear Elnor’s name roughly translates to “Star Trek”!

Being candid and brash, a skilled fighter and absolute sweetheart, I think he’d get along splendidly with dear Legolas, for example...

#(captain barbossa voice) the prime directive is more like guidelines #lotr image #star trek imagine #lotr headcanons #lotr x reader #elves x reader #arwen x reader #elrond x reader #galadriel x reader #haldir x reader #legolas x reader #* ask #* request #* fluffy #* AU #(introducing this tag even though this is more of a crossover!)

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muninnhuginn · 27 days ago

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gonna have a go at a tbhx liveblog. tbh, idk if I'll keep this up or if it'll fade away, but let's have a go.

context in terms of my current knowledge of the series going in:

superheroes? something about public perception dictating how they're seen and some kind of 'trust' rating

one character takes on the role of another

yaoi in episode two(?)

crimes against women discourse

3d/2d animation - given how the other to be hero series operate I'm going to guess this is dependent on world but idk fully

I've seen 'to be hero' and 'to be heroine' so that'll also be informing some stuff here. oh! also, I'll be watching in chinese, though not sure in this case whether the japanese release gets edited down as it did for the previous series in this collection

will be using the tag '#mun watches that hero show' so as not to spam the main tag

Episode 1 thoughts below cut

unsubtle visuals my beloved. anyway, starting themes of the show are "everyone can be a hero" vs "the only path is to accept reality and work hard".

oooh okay nice episode title card. again, on the nose, but it's not like it *needs* to be subtle. also "41 years after commission", iseeisee.

"one day you'll be replaced by someone else" - okay, so. given one of the only spoilers I do know for this series, that's. well.

two seconds later. fingerguns out. wasn't expecting it *quite* that quickly, but comedic timing on point

"who you are is of no importance" - same thing as he was saying himself earlier, but context makes it come off pretty differently

"nice has been doing poorly ever since 'that incident'" taking notes taking notes. that'll definitely come back later

ah, belief system is largely how I'd thought it'd be? belief makes reality, essentially. "as long as we package you flawlessly" and they're having an ad guy do this. fitting.

this question is more fitting to be posed to an obsessive fan than a romantic partner ngl. oh nice, glasses blonde agrees with me

oof rip he actually knows the answer right down to the runtime. that's... kinda embarrassing. obsessive fan it is.

oh. right. okay, I forgot he'd been involved in making a load (all?) of these ads. he gets a pass but he's on thin ice

"she's always been my goddess". I'm taking so much damage here.

oooh the comboing 2d with 3d for the liquid and smokey effects. reminds me of arcane.

trust vs fear. another theme, methinks

so, the villains will represent a fear - in this case, being fired? makes sense. it's presented as though it's a general fear, but I expect that each fear will be relevant to lin ling in some way or another and become increasingly close to his personal fears as the show goes on....?

2d replay of 3d scene. backdrop is somewhat different now though. or rather, the lighting emphasises the poster with the shattered face and saturates out nice almost completely

not the falling imagery. I wasn't gonna make any of this about link click and I know link click doesn't have the monopoly on falling off buildings but. creator footprint.

"I hope that someday I'll be able to protect those worth protecting" noting down as more arc relevant words even if I suspect the first time around will Not go well

moon pulling lin ling out of his fear, not through any actions of her own, but through the marketable version of her he remembers

pshh the flickering between selves as he punches. jjk op vibes.

first re-emphasis of "anyone can be a hero"

interesting how he carries through the final attack still in 2d

visual contradiction. neat.

discussing nice choosing to throw himself off a building as they're heading up to the very top of another building. topical.

yeaaah. wasn't sure exactly how it'd happen but the crimes against women discourse had me thinking she'd die. I'm... not sure if it sticks or if she "comes back" then dies again? I was kinda trying to avoid spoilers but also vaguely curious. I guess I'll find out

Some misc thoughts overall:

Visually, this show seems really strong thus far. Imagery, how it combines the different art styles, how it switches between them for emphasis. Really works

Tonally... kinda all over the place. A lot of this is presented comedically with dark undertones so it's hard to know how seriously you're *meant* to be taking things

The ending (opening) sequence is incredibly focused on a guy we've not met yet, but with visual similarities to Nice. I've managed to avoid most of the promo stuff so I don't actually have a clue who this guy is, though the chess pieces make me think potential "chessmaster" archetype?

oh right. The part about the belief system that struck me the most was the way that Lin Ling's eye colour physically changed. Currently, we're getting all the mirror visuals and seeing Lin Ling's thoughts with him as "himself". I'm curious as to how far his "becoming" Nice will go and whether he'll be able to "return". There's also been a lack so far of information whatsoever about his life prior to this. Whether he has (had?) friends or family. He didn't seem to be calling anyone when he was at the top of the tower but that doesn't mean he *doesn't* have anyone.

Lin Ling's profession as an advertising guy in the context of the trust system. He tended to be on the back end of the marketing work rather than the forefront before this, sure, but it seems super relevant to me that his job was all about public perception. Also, the sheer number of advertising posters/video ads in the backdrop at all times was overwhelming but intentional. Weirdly, am being reminded of Go Go Loser Ranger with some of it

#to be hero x #mun watches stuff #mun watches that hero show #tbhx

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