#Temple Of The Porcelain God

[the-zapped-part-timer]

Penn Zerothon Day 6

Flurgle Burgle🪐

My Ramblings: FINALLY! PROPER SCHOOL SCREEN TIME! We saw it very briefly with the That Purple Girl.

There's symbolism in the Trio's respective lunches: Boone's a fancy and has all he needs, Penn's a a damn mess and Sashi's has something she doesn't want and has to do with her brother.

I want branded Goodbye Pony merch. I want that lunchbox and another item I'll bring up later on. Who has it? We'll see.

Hmmm, jumpy Sashi hopped up on sugar. Wonder what that would look like. Poor Terry, being a school mascot is the most dangerous job.

Penn is just realizing that Sashi's kind of goes overboard as a sidekick... all the time? He's learning, he's figuring things out.

As I've brought the whole Space World inconsistency, Penn doesn't recognize the world. Maybe the episodes were supposed to be swapped or was just a slight oversight. Like I said, doesn't really matter that much. Just observation.

World takes place years after 2715, noted.

I've only had Flurgle for a day and a half. But anything happens to him, I would kill everyone in this room and then myself - Boone, probably.

Out of context, please!:

Penn speaking to Flurgle: Get out of here, you weird little space pig. Papa's got to go to work.

Boone: I know, and don't call me space pig.

Iconic Flurgle-Penn. Kind of terrifying to look at for so long.

Boone... why is he so mean to Sashi in this episode? I get he cares for Penn and the Flurgle but jeez, chillax.

Oh my god, Rippen is making fun of Penn for shitting in the bushes! Now, they're even. God, this show can be pretty funny. What's with prehensile noses this episode? Flurgle and the Shnurkons.

Boone, look, it is cute to catch all this on your futuristic flip-phone, but help with the mission! Penn has an excuse, you don't. I get it, Sashi shouldn't have shot her laser blaster in the ship, but she didn't mean for this to happen! Also people are going to die if you don't find those fuel crystals! You're all up in Penn's business but than you just pawn him off to Sashi because now he has "too much energy?" When he's on a leash!? Also they say "how can we win the mission without our hero!" So does Penn have to be the one to win? Answer: no... I'll bring it up where that does happen. That's a whole other can of worms!

The also iconic "Front Row Seat Quarrel." Never seen Larry get so heated about a subject or towards Rippen this much, or at all at this point. It's amazing, they should be allowed to both have more quarrels like this more often. Larry doesn't always have to be a happy-go-lucky yes-man to Rippen, he can have attitude just as much as him! Love the saltiness. Boone is thriving off the drama.

Subtle Wilhelm Scream!

Good that Boone does come around in the end, yes, she did a little oopsie, but it's ok, people screw up. I think, Boone severely overreacted to the situation. Very much like this conversation between the two, haven't had that yet. And we get the big reveal! Sashi's parents don't know she's a sidekick and think she works at Fish Stick on a Stick (the place Rippen and Larry go to zap). This does bring up a question though: she claims she's been training to be a sidekick for 13 years, that's how old she is in the show... how? Her parents didn't know about any of that. Also get confirmation that Boone's parents are part-timers.

"They can't be proud of what they don't know, so I have to be proud of myself. An today I'm not" An incredibly hard hitting line. Larry's just listening in... that would've been interesting if he brought that up in Sensitivity Training, it does come before The Kobayashis... so.

RIGHT THERE! Larry's strength is shown once again with that powerful kick! Even Boone points it out!

Rippen just pulling out a laser glock on some kids will never not be funny.

"Flurgle, come!" Are very dangerous words.

Rippen, why are you belittling her as a sidekick? The one you call "the competent one!" That was pointless.

Deus Ex Flurgle. Rippen trying Penn like a dog and even calling him a "bad hero!" Gold. Get his ankles, Penn!

We finally see Sashi's place! YAY! And her parents! Double yay! I may not know Star Trek but I do know George Takei when I hear him! Speaking of Penn and Boone being as Sashi's place, interesting how she reacts the next time they come over, very different tune.

The cake... I want it.

~The Characters~

Penn Zero: He flurgled and burgled it up at the club today! He was a free spirit! He shat in the bushes!

Boone Wiseman: Why was he so snappy? Like I said above, he was a bit out of character to me. I could be wrong, just why so aggressive towards her? She made a mistake, but it didn't hurt Penn... kinda? She didn't mean to.

Sashi Kobayashi: Another Sashi episode! Really wanted it to hit harder, but Boone kind of miffed it a bit to me. But overall, is it better than Chuckle City? I don't know.

Rippen: Got a little too cocky with Penn out of the way and look what happened, you still lost!

Larry: The Front Row Seat Quarrel™️ will be one of my favorite Larry scenes.

Dimension(s): Never watched Star Trek, so... space! It's out there!

Forms: Fine, I guess. Nothing really for me. Alien designs are good, Boone's murder mittens hand were interesting, and the Shnurkons overall are fun to look at.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Temple of the Porcelain God🚽

My Ramblings: Very unique episode, it's a sort of flashback-ish type with some flavor. I'm sure there's a term for it, I just can't think of it. Is it reverse chronology or inverted narrative? love how it's through the movie screen, because hey, this is a movie theater after all!

Lives in peril and a giant toilet monster trying to get them... unique to say the least. Showing a completed mission to teach a lesson, what lesson? We'll learn along the way!

Boone loves magazines! This time his mom made onto the cover of "Beef World Mag" for the third time in a row, good for her. We also see Boone's address, time to dox him (it's not real I tried looking):

278 North Street, Middleburg 110406. My guess? Either Florida or Virginia (because there are towns called Middleburg in each).

I'd enjoy watching a 7-hour Director's Cut of... whatever! Show me!

What an oddly specific black market, bathroom themed... anyways obviously inspired by Indiana Jones, which makes this so much funnier with the whip scene. If some of you don't know, Alfred Molina (Rippen's VA) was Satipo in the first film, the guy who also literally said: "Throw me the idol, I'll throw you the whip!" Iconic. Sam, Jared, I see you guys, good meta humor! Too bad the film didn't follow this scene, I know it wouldn't fit, but it's funny to think about. Someone should make this an animatic or redo that scene with this scene... if you get what I mean.

Also very interesting that Penn and co are returning the idol not STEALING IT. Hmmm.... very interesting choice. An upgrade to me over the film (I wasn't to fond of it, sorry).

Penn slight voice crack when he delivers: "Their whip doesn't even reach 16 feet." Is great, love it.

Such a gentlemen indeed, what a pussy Rippen is. Probably acted surprised because, it's Larry, nothing bad rarely happens to him, Rippen calls that out in this episode.

Get the iconic "Flip-flops are my thang" and see that's on the back of his shirt! Just for this episode, I think.

Penn has got some strong legs for him to catch and carry Boone while swing through the air. Look at his legs! They would snap like twigs! Glad that we're bring back man purses, yay!

How and when did Sashi get under the truck thing? Don't question it, she just is under it and as soon as Rippen sees her drop out from underneath with a screw, he knew it was all over.

Great little railway ride for all involved until Rippen just picks up Larry and chucks him Penn... with one hand! "How is it that you never get hurt?" Great question, Rip.

WILHELM SCREAM RIP EDITION! I'm assuming it's him.

Of course, the best exchange ever:

Larry: Don't worry, I'm okay! Rippen's soft body broke my fall.

Rippen: Can't some things be private?

Penn doesn't give to cents as to where Boone is, just the idol. Savage.

How does the Ominous Voice how warns Boone not to flush, know to call him Boone and not his zapped body's name? Maybe he heard Penn not caring about Boone?

Penn is still not over the fact that is indeed Boone's scream, did he just think it was a bit or something?

Penn is brave about just diving into an ancient toilet, everyone clap for him. No one else would. He's disgusting now.

Classic Indiana Jones hat grab but flip-flop addition.

I'm on Boone's side, paper comes over the top not out the bottom for your bottom... Penn, I'm sorry, buy your just wrong. Who ever sides with Penn, why!? Change your wicked ways (and have a nice day)! I'm just as passionate as Boone. I'm glad that Penn listened like a sane person.

My favorite part of that movie is the credits, everyone, clap for Phyllis! She worked her ass off!

So what did they do wrong? Nothing... yep! Best mission ever! Lesson is: help toilet.

Clap again for Phyllis for giving them real golden crowns! I'd sadly also probably melt it down for cash like Sashi. Love her reaction.

WENDY WISEMAN AND MR. WISEMAN CAMEO! Seriously, what's his name? Maybe I'll call him... Wesley. Also, take back the clapping, Phyllis committed the most heinous crime of eating Boone's meatloaf. How dare you!? Down with Phyllis!

~The Characters~

Penn Zero: He's disgusting now. Never touch him, him stink of toilet water for the rest of his days!

Boone Wiseman: He will never forgive Phyllis for her abhorrent crime against humanity.

Sashi Kobayashi: Almost murdered two men, good for her! Hope she gets that cash from that melted crown.

Rippen: He and Larry were just along for the ride, really.

Larry: Do you think they've ever explored each other's bodies?

Dimension(s): Very fun take on an ancient temple but bathroom themed! Lot's of fun uses and designs. Like the plunger bridge, the bathtub railway and all the architecture! The humor is a little on the nose, literal toilet humor, but it works here... and only here.

Forms: Again, all good. Weird to see Sashi as a blonde with short hair but it's really cute. Rippen and Larry's designs of course I really like, Larry looks so huggable with that outfit and beard!

[vixialuvs]

YOU CAN BE THE BOSS !

୨୧ pairing - heeseung x reader

୨୧ cw - soft!dom hee, hee is readers boss/ceo and reader is hees secretary, daddy kink, oral (f & m rec), reader has daddy issues, praise, unprotected sex, aftercare

୨୧ summary - you’ve always gotten special treatment from your boss, what happens when he spots you at the club with another guy and gets jealous?

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

lee heeseung. a name you know all too well. he’s the ceo of the company you work under, and your boss. he’s also filthy rich and attractive. he’s the perfect man, tall, handsome and smart. every female employee fawns over him, but he just shoos them off. the only one he actually cares about is you.

when heeseung saw you on your first day on the job, he had a feeling he needed to protect you. you just seemed so sweet and delicate, like you were made of porcelain. he made it his mission to be close with you. you, being the lovely girl you are, easily became close with him even though he was your boss, to the point he knows about your daddy issues. but you keep it professional, you continuing to call him sir even though he tells you just to call him by his name.

but, he can’t deny the way blood rushes to his dick when you call him sir.

the amount of times he’d have to excuse himself from your conversations to jerk off in his, thankfully, soundproof office is downright embarrassing. you are so clueless, every time you watch him stumble over his words as he mumbles something about a call he has to take with the most innocent eyes makes it worse.

when you bounce into his office carrying papers, your soft breasts jiggling as you greet him with a sweet “hi sir!” he’s barely able to control himself. he’s just thankful his desk covers his hard-on.

however, you aren’t as pure as heeseung thought. after a long day at work, he decided to party in one of his favorite clubs with a few friends, jay, jake, and sunghoon. the last thing he was expecting to see was you swaying your hips with a couple of girls he recognized as your friends from pictures you’ve shown him, two girls named sumin and sieun. but, you weren’t just with them.

his heart practically stopped when he saw a guy all up on you, and you didn’t even seem to mind, you even looked like you were enjoying it. he could already feel the jealousy bubbling deep in his stomach, glaring at the way the guys hands were on your hips and your thighs, wandering too much for his liking.

the night goes on as heeseung sits at the bar with jay, taking shots as jake and sunghoon danced with some random girls they found, unable to take his eyes off you and that guy. your dress was also skimpy and short, barely covering your ass. it pissed him off even more.

“dude, what have you been staring at?” jay finally asks, downing another shot of vodka. he’s always been the chilliest out of all of them, keeping them in line. heeseung lets out a sigh, rubbing his temples.

“that girl over there. she’s my secretary.” he grumbles quietly, taking three shots in a row. jay raises an eyebrow, confused as to way he cares.

“so?” he says, “why do you care?”

heeseung groans loudly, finally ripping his eyes off you to look into jays eyes.

“honest to god, i don’t know man. i just, i feel so protective over her. she’s so perfect and sweet, and i fucking hate seeing that guy all up on her. she’s too lovely for that, she’s too intelligent, i just wanna punch him.”

he’s not even realizing he’s ranting until jay stops him.

“jeez dude, seems like you like her.” he clinks their glasses together, shrugging his shoulders as heeseung sighs, finally coming to a realization and accepting the fact he wants you. the tip of the iceberg is when the guy grabs your ass. he gets up, ignoring jays questioning and storms over to you.

you were having so much fun dancing with the guy, you didn’t even notice heeseung, your boss, coming over. a pair of strong, muscular arms wrap around your waist and pull you away from the man. you turn your head to see who it is, and your eyes go wide when you see its him.

“s-sir?” you stutter out, freezing up in his arms as he tugs you away. even though he’s so pissed at you he’s still so gentle with you. he picks you up bridal style and carries you out of the club, all the way to his black porsche. heeseung sets you in the passenger seat, sighing softly, but you can hear the irritation in his tone.

“what the hell were you doing all up on that guy, y/n? your supposed to be mine!” he blurts out in a angry, yet hurt tone, not realizing his confession. your eyes go wide, red covering your squishy cheeks.

“s-sir, what..?” you stutter out, extremely shy, looking at him with those sweet innocent eyes.

“you heard me angel, your supposed to be mine. don’t want to see you with those other guys little girl..” he whispers, his thumb stroking along your bottom lip.

“i know you have daddy issues baby. i want to protect you. i want to take care of you. let me spoil you rotten sweet girl. please?” he leans over the console, his lips brushing against your forehead.

his words make your face burn up. you can feel the heat pooling between your legs from his words, your thoughts going wild. all you can do is nod dumbly, your eyes fluttering shut as you lean in to kiss his soft lips, your arms wrapping around his neck. he gladly kisses you back, rubbing your neck.

“that’s it baby. such a good girl. gonna take you back to my place okay?” he mumbles, starting up the car, placing a warm hand on your inner thigh.

“yes daddy..” you unconsciously say, before realizing what you said and starting to apologize furiously but he shushes you.

“don’t worry little girl. i like when you call me that. daddy’s got you, okay?” he smiles at you as he drives, taking you back to his penthouse. when you get there he carries you inside and sets you down in the elevator, where he’s barely able to keep his hands off you, kissing at your neck sweetly. when you finally get up to the penthouse, he carries you inside and lays you down on the bed, immediately helping you out of your dress.

he pulls down your panties, a long string of your wetness connecting to them. he swears and tosses them to the side, hooking your legs over his shoulders and pressing a soft kiss to your clit. he takes your sensitive bud into his mouth, causing you to writhe and whine, he grips tightly onto your thighs, practically making out with your pussy. he moans into your cunt, slowly massaging your soft clit with his tongue.

“daddy! mngh! feels so good, you make me feel s’ good..” you whine out loudly, body jolting as you buck your hips into his mouth. he smirks against your pussy and guides you against his face, rubbing your thighs as he spits on your pussy before pressing his tongue flat against your hole. he smiles against your pussy, staring up at you.

“that’s it baby, just use daddy’s face. you’re okay. ride my face sweet thing. just keep your pretty eyes on me.” he coos, speaking directly against your pussy as he blows hot air on it. he brings you closer and closer to orgasm by the second, knowing your about to cum without you even telling him with the way your moans get high pitched. “daddy! i can’t take it! gonna cum! gonna cum!”

you squeal out, before making a complete mess on heeseungs face. he helps you ride out your high before resting his face on your shaven mound, his chin and lips glistening with your juices. he sits up along with you, tugging his shirt off as you unbuckle his belt, pulling down his slacks and palming him through his boxers.

“baby, take them off.”

he mutters, caressing your hair. you, being the good girl you are, pull off his boxers and crawl onto your knees infront of him. you kiss his tip and wrap your lips around him, immediately deepthroating him. he groans loudly, slightly tugging on your hair.

“fuck pretty, your such a naughty girl, didn’t know you were so slutty.. thought you were innocent.”

heeseung ever so gently fucks your face, unable to resist cumming down your throat so quickly, it’s slightly embarrassing, but turns him on so much more when he sees your eyes tearing up as you gag on his cock.

“thank you love.. i really need to fuck your little cunt okay? wanna feel my bulge in your belly.”

he lifts you up, resting your head back on the pillow as he lines his cock up with your entrance. he’s going to fuck you in missionary so he can see your pretty face. he pushes his cock in your pussy, groaning loudly. “your so fucking tight, i love your cute cunt.” your gummy walls are squeezing him just right, causing him to mutter curses under his breath.

he starts to fuck your warm pussy, holding onto your hips, pressing his warm hand on the bulge in your tummy. he’s watching his cock slide in and out of you, moaning.

“look at that, look how deep your daddy is inside you.. shit, i’m gonna cum.”

he’s so pussydrunk he cums in record time, twice this night. he fucks his cum into you, which drives you to orgasm aswell, he leans down and kisses your pretty lips, keeping his cock buried in your warmth for a while until he finally pulls out to run you two a bath, picking you up and setting you in the tub, washing your hair so lovingly.

“you did so good for me, baby. i love you so much. i want you to be my girl, okay? but im gonna make it official and take you out to dinner my love.”

he whispers into your wet hair, kissing the top of your head, after your bath, he carries you back to the bed since your legs are weak. you fall asleep in the comfort of your daddy’s arms, completely content.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

@vixialuvs 2024. reblogs and feedback appreciated !

[bones4thecats]

hello there!! I don't know if you write for anubis, but if you do can I request for anubis, Loki, qin shi Huang, and Tesla with a reader who have a Japanese porcelain doll-like pretty? She rarely talk and people often think she have a cold personality but she was actually shy and anxious (basically komi reader), thank youu!! :D

A/N: I have just started writing for Anubis, and other characters, you can find them on my Character List, which is linked on my Masterlist! Now, enjoy!

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🐶 Anubis had first met you because of a Gods' Council meeting, boring I know!

🐶 He watched as Zeus introduced you

🐶 Your quiet and seemingly cold personality actually got him to be centered around you, as he wanted to see you smile so badly!

🐶 He tried getting you to smile so badly, and when he noticed how sweet and kind you were to a child who passed you by when running up and down the temple stairs, his heart fluttered

🐶 Every other God in his Pantheon was after your beauty, but he was after your personality

🐶 Anubis looked at you when you hid behind him, since Zeus was ogling you, again

🐶 Whenever this happened, he'd pick you up and take you back to his home where he would lay his headpiece on your head and let you play with his hair

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🐍 You and him were polar opposites

🐍 Everybody is very confused and wondering what the hell went wrong

🐍 Loki was the gremlin of the Norse Pantheon while you were the angel of the Norse Pantheon, it just didn't add up

🐍 While many, including you, believed that Loki was just into your looks and teasing you for sheer fun, you all quickly learned that he did genuinely care about you

🐍 Whenever you got nervous and didn't wish to be around people, Loki would hold you in the air with him as he people watched

🐍 He also enjoys to speak, so you don't have to worry about him not liking your silence, in fact, he quite enjoys it!

🐍 Normally after he played a series of pranks, he'd hike himself in a tree and take a nap, now, he finds his new napping spot in your lap, causing you to get flustered and hide yourself

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👑 He adores your personality with a passion

👑 Qin is more of a social and extroverted person, so you being more of an introvert makes people question exactly how he managed to bag you

👑 And he loves to tell the story to anybody, willing or unwilling, to lend an ear for him to speak

👑 He had met you one day while walking through a market, and he watched you hand a fruit to a hungry child before paying for it, smiling as you patted their head

👑 It took a while, but when you guys got married, he showed even more care for you

👑 Qin would hold you in his lap, allowing you to hide your face in his neck whenever there were a bunch of people in a room

👑 He also enjoys having you design him new bandannas, and while he never wore them, as he feared they'd get damaged, he would hang them up in his and your room

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🧪 Tesla had been working on a special mechanism and called in one of his colleagues for some assistance on finding a special piece of machinery

🧪 He watched as he called you up and ordered the piece of metal, and he was wondering how much you knew about it all

🧪 And when you arrived and helped him place it in, giving short and very quiet recommendations, he realized how amazingly smart you were

🧪 Nikola and you connected on how much you enjoy quiet and calm environments

🧪 And all the time you guys spent together eventually led to you guys dating and getting married

🧪 Whenever he had to work, you would be either in the same room working on something yourself or at home doing something for when he got home

🧪 As he is a very busy man, he would be out of the house often, which he hoped didn't bother you, but, thankfully, it didn't

🧪 Your quiet personality and his stoic and quiet personality made a great mix, as whenever he was working, you'd just sit there and listen to his light comments as he worked

[dilemmaontwolegs]

FUCK FUCK FUCK!!!

Sorry for the profanity, but i BAWLED at the Bucket list fic😭

I read it when I had some time at work, and i cannot tell you how my heart BROKE!!!! I had to hide my face and wipe my tears because GOD HELP ME i almost choked on them.

Absolutely loved the fic, but can’t help but wish you’d broken our hearts more by letting is witness her last moment with Cha by her side!! Masochistic much??

Adore you and your work so much🥰

- May✨

Great, now I’m crying again. Fuck 😭😭😭

The Bucket List

Charles remembered every second of your last day. For a moment it seemed like you were doing better, you had energy and you got out of bed. You walked to his piano and asked him to play your song, smiling like it was the first time hearing it all over again. He played it until his fingers cramped.

“Can we put the Christmas tree up?” you asked as you looked at the empty corner by the fireplace. It had been forgotten in the week since you returned home, usually it would have been up and decorated on the 1st of December.

Charles didn’t feel like he had much to celebrate this year but he nodded and closed the lid on the piano. “I’ll get it from the loft.” He left with a kiss to your temple and a small smile.

It took longer than it normally did to hang all the baubles and drape the tinsel but you wanted it to be perfect. Charles held the final piece in his hand, a delicate porcelain doll with a gold halo above her head. It was new, one he found that looked just like you and he rose on his toes to reach the top of the tree. “Mon ange.”

You didn’t speak as you took a seat and watched the lights flicker on the tree but he felt connected to you when you placed your hand on his thigh and rested your head on his shoulder.

“I’m tired, Cha,” you said with a yawn. “Will you come and lay down with me?”

“Of course, mon amour.”

Charles helped you as the day came to an end, his arm bearing most of your weight as the energy you had earlier faded with an exhaustion that came from deep inside your soul. You felt no pain as he lifted you onto the bed and went to close the curtains to defend you from the setting sun.

“Will you hold me while I go to sleep?” Your eyes were already getting heavy when the bed dipped on his side and he carefully cradled you to his chest.

“Of course, mon amour.”

You forced your eyes to open just enough to see those gold and green eyes you had fallen for. Your chest was getting heavy, each breath requiring more effort and you closed your eyes to focus on each inhale and exhale.

“I love you, Charles,” you whispered weakly as his warm lips pressed to your forehead.

“I love you too.” Charles felt his universe shatter with the shuddering breath you took before the world fell silent. “Forever and always.”

Click here for Two Years Later.

[hannibals-favourite-meal]

.⋆｡Your Personal Ghost｡⋆.

Brahms Heelshire x plus size reader

As a writer, you need peace and quiet but it seems the ghost in your new home has some other ideas for you

Warnings: paranoia, sort of stalking, usual Brahms shenanigans, nudity, little bit of smut, m and f masturbation, voyeurism

WC: 861

Minors DNI

Library- @hannibals-favourite-meal-library

Halloween Celebration

That feeling was back, the feeling that you were being watched, like eyes were cutting into the back of your head, observing every move you made. A shiver rolled down your spine but you shook it off in favour of continuing your work.

The house was old, very fucking old, so it was bound to have a few ghosts. That is what you bought the place, you hoped that those spirits could help inspire you, your publisher was getting very pushy for a new book.

You had hoped that the manor in the picturesque English countryside, which was being sold for a very reasonable price, would give you some ideas and motivation for a new novel. But so far, your writer’s block had turned into a full on story dam and you had developed a pervasive feeling of paranoia. The old ass furniture that creaked when you so much as looked at it didn’t help much either.

The small cursor on your laptop screen seemed to mock you as it blinked away in your empty document. You had written about 30 story ideas since you moved in a month ago but you deleted all of them, or at least you assumed you deleted them because they would disappear when you woke up in the morning. None of the stories felt right, they were all either too overdone or not creative enough for a full length book and it was quickly driving you crazy.

“God!” You groaned and leaned back into your desk chair, covering your eyes with frustration. “How the fuck does Stephen King do this?” You whined as your fingertips dug into your temples in an attempt to massage away the tension headache that was beginning to form. 

Your shoulders sagged as you sat forwards again. “I need a break.” The legs of the chair scraped against the old hardwood, echoing through the otherwise silent office. A glance at the window revealed yet another cloudy day and you wondered if it was ever sunny here. 

The eyes of the creepy portraits in the hall followed you as you walked by, like they always did but you truly didn’t have the energy to deal with them today. Your bedroom was a complete mess but you told yourself it was a functional mess as you stepped around several piles of clothes and books on your way to the bathroom. 

A huge claw-foot tub rested beneath a large window overlooking the expansive grounds of the manor, providing you with literally the best baths you had ever taken. Soon enough, hot steam began to fill the room and the sound of running water overpowered the buzz of fear that almost constantly filled your head. A couple drops of lavender essential oils and some bubble bath completed your little ritual.

Shedding off your ratty writing clothes, you stepped into the tub. Immediately the hot water relaxed your tense muscles and you breathed out a sigh of relief. You sank further into the water, letting your tired eyes flutter shut as your hands travelled down the length of your soft body, coming to rest at the seam of your thighs.

“Maybe I need to properly relax. It has been a while.” You murmured to yourself as your fingertips began to explore your sensitive inner thighs. A quiet mewl slipped through your lips, stoking the fire that was beginning to blaze in your belly. Your hips bucked into your hand, keening for your own touch.

“Fuuuck.” You whined as you finally brushed against your clit, sending a ripple of pleasure through your body. Water light lapped at the edges of the porcelain tub as your body moved, chasing your end. But even through the sound of the water and your breathless moans, you heard something else.

A loud creak and the trembling of the wall. You froze and looked around the room, trying to pinpoint the source of the noise. There was a crack in the wallpaper on the wall opposite you and you swore that something moved behind it but as you waited, holding your breath in fear, nothing happened. 

You groaned before you let out a relieved laugh. “God, this place is haunted.” Your hands did not return to your previous activities, instead you shut your eyes and let the still warm water caress your body, unaware of the very real presence behind the wall.

His cooling cum coated Brahms’s hand and pants as he struggled to catch his breath through his pale mask. His eyes remained locked on your barely concealed body as his cock began to twitch back to life, he wished that you would play with yourself again but he was still content to see you completely bare to him, just as he had dozens of times before.

He so badly wished to reveal himself to you, to have you touch him instead of only imagining it while he used your stolen clothes to wrap around his cock. You would stay here forever with him, he would guarantee it but he had to be patient. At least today he didn’t have to sneak out of the wall and delete your manuscript again.

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[rottiens]

⊹ ˚. MORAX (REX LAPIS) ┊ sfw, set in the archon war, gn reader. divider creds: cafekitsune.

The last drops of the drizzle drip off the roof using it as a slide, until they fall in the garden and wet the green grass and the silk flowers while you walk along the corridor bathed in an eerie silence, the yellowish opaque lights are not enough to chase away the gloom that the sunset brings and the creaking of your bare feet on the wood do not help to relax your spirit.

Your spear was stripped from you as soon as you set foot in the temple. The guards at the entrance demanded that you leave behind any weapon that could be used as a threat against Morax, patted your arms, thighs and back in sign of some undeclared weapon, finally opening the doors for you when they realized they would find nothing relevant.

Without your spear you feel naked, something that detonates your paranoia— you are suspicious of the shadows moving in the garden thanks to the branches being shaken by the wind, you are wary of the noise your ears hear coming from your own heavy footsteps.

You gather your arms and your fingers curl around your forearms slipping smoothly into the sleeves of the hanfu that was offered to you. Apparently your war soiled clothes were not dignified enough to stand before an archon. Instead, you received a beautiful blue hanfu with a qingxin flower embroidery on the bottom of the garment, the fabric is soft and falls perfectly on your body, as if it had been made for you.

In front of you is a perfectly round entrance protected with a bamboo door.

"You wanted to see me, Rex Lapis?" You add his name with a tone of uncertainty, unsure of what was the correct form with which you should address a deity.

On the other side of the door remains a long silence which is interrupted by a hoarse, "Come in."

You do not hesitate. With ease you slide the door aside to step into the room. Your gaze is immediately caught by the various details, eager to devour with your eyes how the room of a god looks from the inside. The first thing you notice is that you are in what appears to be the tea room. The room is sealed by a wooden wall, dark tones and brown splashed all over the place.

In front of you is a curtain that prevents you from seeing him, yet your eyes catch shadows behind it. The noise of glassware exposes that they are moving cups, then you realize that there was someone behind it and your instincts lead you to assume that perhaps it is Him. Morax was in his human form, his height rises above the curtain just barely surpassing it, he moves naturally in the shadows making you drown with his presence which leads you to seal your lips and lower your face until your eyes are looking at the silhouette of your feet hidden behind your attire.

"Come here." It is a direct command that you cannot refuse. His voice is husky yet soft as lilies, at first more than a command it feels like a request.

Your feet rise of their own accord and move to step through the curtain. You find him sitting on the floor with his legs crossed in an opposite way forming a triangle, he had brown loose pants, his hair was down resting loosely along his back while his chest was bare. His arms were a black color which you had mistaken for ink the first time you observed him, you were sure now that they were tiny scales (a trait perhaps due to his dragon form), laced with orange-toned markings that ran from his fingers to his shoulders.

You immediately lower your gaze as you felt unworthy to be gazing at him as if he were a painting image, he hadn't stopped to look at you, he was busy manipulating the porcelain cups.

"Sit down," he said shortly after, proceeding to fill a teacup.

With firm steps you make your way to the tiny table and drop to your knees with a stifled thud, your hands on your thighs and your back so straight it hurts.

You wander in thought about the few people who have had the chance to see him like this, in his human form and your heart flutters. Your fingers push your thighs down, droplets of sweat begin to accumulate in the palms of your hands and on the back of your neck.

Morax lays his gaze upon you for the first time and those glowing amber eyes consume you, not even in his dragon form had you ever had the chance to see him so closely so you find yourself contemplating him in detail, his eyelids dropping halfway down, retaining the authority he holds over you as he now mimics the aura of a feline.

"I received your request to return to the war… I wonder why. Didn't you just come back from it?" Morax inquired, subtly thrusting a cup in your direction.

You bow your face in thanks before taking the cup and bringing it to your mouth without adding words, you didn't know that the requests went directly to the archon. You were sure that the general in charge was the one who sealed them and sent the decree that you could go to war, so the idea that Morax had that in his hands and that he read your letter makes you swallow hard.

The tea is sweet, it runs down the rasp and burn of your throat. You distinguish the taste of honey and perhaps a few drops of lemon in it, it goes down smooth and helps you soften your next words.

"I wish to fight for my nation, there is nothing that would make me prouder than to die for you."

Something trembles in his face, and you're not sure what that expression means. His jaw tenses and the corner of his lips twitches softly, perhaps it was a smile you saw?

"For me?" Morax cooed the words near the cup, his breath creating waves in the infusion. You stir on your legs, your fingers ruffling the fabric of the hanfu. "How could that be possible when I heard your prayers in the field. You asked for a contract in exchange for me protecting your life." Then he drank, closing his eyes for a moment.

A contract… The archon was right, you had forgotten that because of the adrenaline of the moment.

Fear pumped through your system and prevented the processing of any logical thought. You were sure you were going to die in the field that day. An arrow pierced your left side grazing very close to your heart, every breath you took you could feel the splinters moving closer. The rhythm of your heartbeat was like that of a drum luring you to your death.

You were sure you were ready to die, you swore you always had, yet the moment your eyelids succumbed to the darkness your courage trembled and as your eyes closed for the last time, unable to open them again, you pleaded for your life.

"Do you remember now?" Morax's mug was on the table again, lost in the unpleasant memories that had returned you ignored the archon shifting position, now one of his knees was at chest level, his other leg still rested on the floor in a misshapen triangle while one elbow rested on top of the knee, and in turn the fist held his chin.

"I do," you swallowed. Unable to hold his gaze.

"Say it."

"I asked for a contract on my life. I asked for you to save me and in return I promised to give you the most precious thing I had…" your words hang in the air, half completed as you try to think, mentally piecing the puzzle together. "But I'm confused."

"Mm?" Morax inquired. Watching you struggle to put the pieces back in place, yet you get no more help from him. Leaving you to walk alone through that dark valley of memories.

"I have nothing that would be of value to you. I couldn't give you mora since you own every coin in existence, I have no animals to sacrifice, I have no family that survived the plague…"

"So you are unaware of your own worth." His amber eyes move over you, up and down and back and forth. There is no expression you can read on his face, the archon remains just as serene so you are not sure what he is thinking or what he is referring to. "I don't need anything material that you can give me. I already have your devotion so what could be more precious than that?"

"My body?" you added, incredulously, after a moment's thought.

Morax smiled, a grimace with an absence of teeth. "Your soul," he replied calmly. "You will always have my favor, you will always win no matter what battles you fight in. I'm going to make you the best warrior, people are going to tell stories about you." Your gaze lights up as the archon narrates the events he could make you live, or which he assures you will live. Then, he extends the hand with which he held his jaw in your direction, you watch the open palm in silence. "Just hold my hand."

It was the sign that your contract would be officially covenanted, before the celestial order, before the earth, and before the patron of contracts.

The thought makes you hesitate, shivers run through your chest making it hard to breathe. You weren't sure what that implied, what did he mean by giving him your soul?

You spread your fingers out, you can see them trembling on top of the table. Morax curls his hand around yours, his fingers are long and wrap around yours without difficulty. The texture of the scales is lumpy, barely perceptible as he tightens his grip.

The moment your gazes meet something inside you catches fire and burns. There's a bonfire at the top of your stomach and little electric snakes run up and down your arms, move inside your bloodstream.

"Don't be afraid," he assured you in that velvety voice." Your lips part to comment on something but before you can speak he pulls away from you. "I'll have your room ready for tonight."

"My room?" you repeat somewhat confused, returning your hand to your lap.

"I want to keep you close."

Something warm settles on your cheeks. Like the kiss of the first rays of the sun in the morning and the flutter of a tender butterfly makes your insides tingle.

"I want my spear back," you said suddenly.

You didn't feel like you without it, even though in a place like this you didn't need to be armed, it was necessary for you to have it close by for the emotional weight.

"You'll have it again," Morax affirmed, nodding his head.

You licked your lips as you turned your attention back to the mug in front of you, the golden liquid inside the porcelain was steady and serene, quite the opposite of your thoughts. Warm steam was escaping in the direction of the ceiling.

"Come join me for a sunset walk," Morax suggested, pricking the thought bubble that was beginning to fill in your head. "We can discuss the terms of our contract, I can answer your questions," he added. He seemed to have read your mind.

The proposal catches you off guard. Morax waits silently for your response, patient.

notes: just practicing writing again! this time I thought it would be fun to narrate and write a little bit about zhongli's (morax) personality since he is one of my fav genshin characters and i hope to write more about him in the future. thanks for reading! <3.

[koisuko]

Could I request the Lin Kuei Trio with a God reader? For more context, Reader is the god of the moon and the Lin Kuei could be a clan who worshipped them? And one day, reader decides to descend to aid Liu Kang for something and the boys end up meeting the god they worship

This took way too long, couldn’t find the motivation. It’s 1 am and suddenly it hit me >:)

Tw: none, fluff, these boys are smitten on sight, gn

It had long been known, for centuries the Lin Kuei worshipped the god of the moon, the night, and the sign of change. The god represented the ways of the Lin Kuei, how day by day they served their purpose with grace and power, never once failing a task. The clan never knew, but the god was watching them, a smile on their face as they heard their prayers.

You watched for centuries as the clan grew, in number and in strength, serving alongside Liu Kang in the protection of Earthrealm. You offered help where you could, assisting from the background and keeping your distance from the mortals themselves. You knew all to well how easily corrupt mortals could become, fearing your reveal could lead to a catastrophic end to the clan.

A gentle voice rang in your ears, an all too familiar god of fire sending a prayer for your assistance. Knowing Liu Kang, he would only request direct help from you if the need was drastic. He was capable of doing many things on his own, but required your aid on rare occasion.

You swiftly left the safety of your temple. Your attire flowing elegantly on the ground behind you, cascading down your back in a watery display of silk. You felt the rays of the moon touch your porcelain skin, fueling the ethereal glow in the intricate patterns imbedded into your arms, a visible representation of your power displayed in inky artistry.

Two pillars stood before you, orbs sat atop the pillars illuminating the room in a dim white radiance, resembling the moon itself. You wave your hands, moonlight rays flow from your fingers, forming a bright portal between the pillars, swirling in a mesmerizing display and humming a song of the night.

Stepping through, you were greeted with a familiar smile, "Lord Liu Kang, it's a pleasure to see you old friend." He tipped his head as a sign of respect and greeting, causing you to mirror his welcoming gesture. "y/n, I truly appreciate your aid in my cause, shall we discuss?" He moved to the side, sweeping his hand and gesturing to the academy behind him.

Upon entering, the ground once bustling with activity, now fell silent as you and Liu Kang walked side by side. The monks pause their training, turning to pay respects to your presence with a bow. "There are a few who wish to meet you." He kept the comforting smile on his face, his eyes directed in front of him as we neared the main temple, "I look forward to it, Liu Kang."

The grand doors of the temple creaked open, behind it revealing the familiar faces of the Lin Kuei. The sudden thump of your heart hammered against your chest, worry masked by a calm and stoic expression. That fear of corruption once again lurked in the back of your mind, shadowing the confidence you harbored for the future. “Bi-han, Kuai Liang, Tomas,” Liu Kang gestures to each man before you as he spoke, “this is y/n, the god of the moon.” You watched each of their reactions individually, carefully studying the surprise and awe in their eyes.

You could see the excitement masked by their need to remain professional. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you,” you placed a hand over your heart, bowing your head slowly. When you lifted your head back up, you were met with the three of them knelt on one knee, with their heads low in respect. Of the three, it was a surprise to see Bi-han so quick to kneel before someone with no sign of reluctance. “Please, there is no need,” your voice rang in their ears like wind chimes. They were sure to remember your face, your beauty and elegance.

As they all rose, all except one gave a stoic stare. Tomas, his eyes averted elsewhere, darting around rapidly to avoid eye contact. His features were graced with the hues of a blush. It made you giggle, causing him to blush even deeper.

Clasping your hands in front of you, you sighed, breathing in the comfortable silence. “Now,” Liu Kang suddenly cut in, “shall we continue?”

Note: apologies if this is short, it’s been in my drafts for ages and I wanted to finish it the best I can despite losing motivation for it.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Break-In 3

Character: God the Bounty Hunter

Warnings: this drabble includes elements which may be dark. Please mind these warnings and take care.

Explicit, 18+. Please reblog and leave some feedback.

A day off is exactly what you need. Still, your internal clock doesn’t register the break. You wake up at the same time, make your coffee, and contemplate the meaning of life. When the single-serve finishes its churning, you claim your mug and yawn over the brim, blowing away the wisp of steam. 

You cross your apartment, the air stuffy with the damp spring evening melding into the warmth of the rising sun. You go to the balcony door and watch the haze of orange behind the cityscape as the dark blue ripples to shades of cerulean. As you let yourself out onto the narrow balcony, you find your way impeded.  

Your coffee splashes over the top of the cup and splats onto the figure slumped across the concrete. You sigh and take a sip. The man always shows up when you’re in dire need of caffeine. You look down at him, perplexed at what to do next. He’s too big for you to move on your own and you have the humanity to wonder why he’s passed out. 

“Ughhhhhhh,” the catlike intruder groans as he rolls onto his back and you flinch, nearly spilling more upon him. 

“Hi,” you peer down dumbly. 

His blue eyes flit side to side then angle to the glimpse of the sky beneath the next floor’s balcony. He lets out a deep breath as his brows furrow and ripples line his forehead, “morning.” 

Is he saying good morning or is he stating the time? For as little as he’s ever said to you, you’re not certain. You sniff and let it out in a heave. 

“Are you hurt?” You ask, giving in. 

“I am wounded,” he answers and grits his teeth. 

You nod. That doesn’t really help either of you.  

“Can you move?”  

He grimaces and plants his hands beside him. He pushes himself up with a growl and leans heavily forward. He’s panting from the effort. Shoot. 

“Yes,” he puffs. 

“Got it,” you cluck. 

You back up and reach to set your mug on the ledge that stands under the rows of windows looking out over the balcony. You keep the door open with your foot and come back out. He hugs his stomach as he rubs his bruised temple. 

“Do you need help?” 

He shakes his head and shifts, reaching for the railing. He hauls himself up with a suppressed grunt and hunches before he can stand straight. His eyes meet yours as he faces you, dragging his foot as he limps forward. 

“Concussion, bruised ribs,” he hobbles closer, “foot might be fractured.” 

His diagnosis is cool and detached. As if it isn’t his own body. You step back out of the way and he enters the dark apartment. Only the kitchen light and the slowly blooming sunrise glow in the space. He staggers onward and you claim your mug. You’ll wait until you see the bottom to figure this out. 

As he falls onto your couch, you go into the kitchen. He sits with his head tilted back and takes straggling breaths through his nose. You take out a second mug, a pod, and tap the brew button. You languish in the tension as you wait for the long grind. 

You continue to nurse your own coffee as you bring his out and place it on the square table beside the armrest. He rumbles as he opens his eyes. His pupils are dark pits. 

“Thank you,” he mutters. 

“Mm,” you push your tip against your teeth, “you know, I’m not too good with blood so...” 

“Coffee’s fine,” he sits forward and stymies another groan. He grabs the mug and drinks, sighing in relief. “You got a bed sheet I can ruin?” 

You consider him. This is strange. You’ve just accepted that he’s going to come and crash on your couch and there’s nothing you can do about it. Why? It’s probably that knife. He hasn’t hurt you and you don’t want that to change. 

“Sure,” you agree with a shrug. 

He takes another sip and brings his other hand up to feel the heat through the porcelain. He focuses on the mug and you back up. He isn’t even asking you to help, you just assumed. As you go to grab an old sheet out of the linen chest, you can’t help but wonder what happened to him. You don’t think he’ll be any more chatty about that than anything else. 

[ragingbookdragon]

It’s well into the afternoon when Spades finally emerges from her den and into the breakroom, bleary-eyed and obviously hungover. Price nor Laswell say a word as she shuffles from the company coffee maker then to the table, a groan escaping her as she lowers herself down onto the seat. She doesn’t drink her coffee, she just hovers over it, blinking and hoping that the caffeine will magically absorb into her bloodstream.

Price is the one who finally breaks the silence with, “You alright, Spades?”

She frowns, brows pulling together as she responds with, “I…don’t remember how we got back to base last night.” Her voice is rough, hoarse like she’s been screaming; she pulls at the sparkly silver dress, one arm is out of the sleeve, the other covered.

Laswell notices the lipstick and eyeliner smeared across her face. “Where did you guys go after Soap’s party?”

“I think we went to McDonalds?” Spades replies confusedly. “We pre-gamed here but then Soap was hungry, so we went there. But after we left, we saw a bar and…it’s all fuzzy after that.” She rubs at her temples. “I think there was another bar or was it a nightclub?”

“Where’s everyone else?” Price asks. “The guy’s quarters are empty.”

Spades hums low in her throat. “Soap’s passed out by the toilet, Ghost’s in the tub, Gaz is on the bed, and König is out cold on the floor.” Her head lowers and she rubs her chest. “My nipples hurt.” She sounds confused. “Why the fuck do my nipples hurt?”

Pulling at the dress, she manages to somehow get her other arm out of its sleeve and tugs it down her chest, completely ignoring Laswell and Price; Laswell squints. “Oh my god…Spades, did you…?”

“Who the fuck pierced my nipples last night?”

Price blinks and rubs his eyes. “My only inquiry is if you’re the only one.”

Spades doesn’t reply as she rises shakily from her seat and stumbles out the door, down the hall and back into her quarters. She steps over König, barely sees Gaz wedged between the wall and her bed, and into the bathroom, where Soap is laying with his head against the porcelain of the toilet, and Ghost is contorted into the bathtub. He’s got both knees bent up, heels together, arms crossed over his chest, and his chin is in his chest as well.

She doesn’t even bother to wake him up as she unwinds his arms and shoves his black hoodie and shirt up his chest to reveal two silver bars through either of his nipples.

“Had a dream like this one night,” she hears from a groggy voice. “But it’s a very different location and position.”

Spades drops Ghost’s shirt and does the same to Soap, but the man doesn’t even twitch as she looks at his gold bars. “Did we all—?”

“Mhm.”

“Tell me we at least got photos?”

Ghost grunts and gives a short nod before grabbing her by the sleeve of her dress and yanks her back into him. He tucks her against his body and the tub is way too small for them both, but she somehow manages to twist comfortably enough to tuck her head into the crook of his neck.

“My nips hurt.”

“My dick hurts,” he retorts, and that’s when Spades notices that Ghost is cupping his groin in a way that is protecting it from her weight and her jaw drops in shock.

“Nuh uh, you didn’t.”

“You made me.”

“What?”

Ghost shifts, chest rising and falling as he wraps his arm around her waist. “You said you wanted to feel it whenever I fuck—”

Her hand slaps across his mouth and for once in her life, Spades is flustered. “Okay, end of sentence. You can take it out whenever you want.”

She can feel the smirk and self-assuredness in his voice as he says, “Nah, I think I like it.”

“You’re out of your mind, Ghost.”

“Indeed.” Ghost’s hand slips up her thigh to grab at her ass. “But you like it.”

“Don’t tell anyone,” she replies, and settles against him. “I have a reputation.”

“You will when I’m done with you.”

[acaaai-t]

3 months and counting

[modern au! scaramouche x gn! reader]

cw: angst, hurt/no comfort, major character death, hints at suicide, probably unhealthy coping methods idk

The taste of bitter coffee and overly sweetened scent of dandelion tea lingered, lingered for a little longer than he liked.

Wilted flowers lay by a small vase of fresh ones. The pile of dead flowers seemed to grow bigger with each passing day.

The house was dim, with the only source of light being a weakly lit candle surrounded by empty dishes and untouched cutlery on the dining table. For a place that had felt so big not too long ago, it suddenly seemed to be so small.

Scaramouche hummed quietly to himself as he gently dusted at the debris that clung onto the picture frames. His touch was delicate as his fingers brush against the cold glass. The tune he has been singing echoed off the walls, traveling down the silent hallway.

How long has it been? He wonders.

Three days? A week? Two weeks? Scaramouche had long lost count.

Once he was sure that the picture frame was clean, he stepped back and admired his handiwork. In this empty house, the only thing that stood out most was the wall of what Scaramouche called ‘memories’. Golden frames surrounded photos of all kind, taken by you and hung by him.

He misses you.

On most days, Scaramouche would stay huddle in what once was a shared bedroom, buried deep beneath the blankets, scrolling through past messages. Dark circles heavily marked his under eyes, a stark contrast to his porcelain pale skin.

For the first month, he was a utter mess. Unable to process the tragic news of your sudden death.

It had just felt like yesterday, when the two of you were just out on a date, laughing and giggling.

The world was mocking him, taunting and laughing, watching the hallow shell of the man he once was as he stood there alone in the cemetery. Flowers previously placed by your grave was removed and tossed away, replaced by a fresh bouquet of your favorite flowers.

The night you were buried under the willow tree, was the only night he had ever worked up the courage to sit by your grave, and wallow in the despair.

“I miss you,” the three words etched into his mind, quietly spoken into the empty void.

What about the plans you’ve made with him? The promises of a happy ending, a beautiful future.

Gone… all gone, far too soon.

“Will we get a cat too?” your voice was eager, full of hope.

Scaramouche smiled and pressed a small kiss to your temple. “Whatever you want.”

You giggled. “Let’s get a black cat then. I can see the resemblance between you and them.”

“Hey,” he whined.

You beamed up at him. “I love you.”

How he wished time could’ve stopped right there and then, allowing that precious moment to last for an eternity.

“I love you too.”

God, it was so fucking unfair. Why did you have to be the one to die?

It could’ve been anyone else, but you just had to be there at the wrong time.

He slumped down on the empty couch, cushions and throw blankets sitting in the same spot as before. Scaramouche didn’t dare touch anything. He was scared— terrified that if he even so as much move anything a centimeter away, he’ll lose the remaining parts of you that he had so desperately been trying to cling onto.

Scaramouche had already lost you once, he couldn’t lose you for a second time.

The soft golden glow of the ceiling lights flickered in and out for a brief moment, a sign that the electrical bill was long overdue. It was fortunate enough that the landlord took pity upon him and gave Scaramouche an extension to pay his bills.

3 months.

It’s been three whole months since the accident. Three months since he’s shut himself off from the outside world. Three months he spend crying and grieving, fantasizing scenarios of you and him. He knows it’ll never come true, but he can only hope.

Head barely above water, the bits of hope he has is all that’s supporting his weight, preventing him from drowning. Yet as the clock moves, he finds himself sinking lower and lower.

Two hollow knocks to his door startled him out of his trancelike state. “Who,” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

When the answer was delivered with another two knocks, he spoke louder. “What.”

“Scaramouche,” the muffled voice of Childe floated through the thick wood. “Open the door.”

He scowled, body already moving before his mind had even processed Childe’s words. The door cracked open with a soft creak, a silver of the sunlight spilling into the dark house. Scaramouche squeezed his eyes closed, momentarily blinded by the light. It’s been so long since he’s seen the sun.

Childe’s shadow stepped in and blocked out the light. He gave Scaramouche a tired smile. “Archons you look like shit.”

Scaramouche said nothing and kept his silent gaze on him.

The ginger sighed. “I was hoping you’d come visit… them, with us.”

There were no names mentioned, yet Scaramouche almost instantly knew who Childe was referring to. He felt his body tense up.

“Look, I’m not trying to force you or anything, but we all miss them, and you too, ‘mouche… you haven’t talked with any of us in three month now.”

Guilt gnawed at his heart, eating away yet another piece.

He hadn’t meant to neglect his friends. None of the things he was doing was intentional.

“… I’m sorry,” he whispered, lowering his gaze, unable to keep eye contact with Childe. He fear that if he continued, tears would begin to formulate, and there’d be nothing to stop them from flowing.

“Mind if I come in?” Childe’s voice softened.

Scaramouche felt tears prickling at his eyes. Childe placed one hand on his shoulder, gently giving a pat— and that was what finally broke him. The water droplets fell uncontrollably, rolling down his cheeks. A pitiful sight to behold.

Childe pulled him into a hug and remained quiet. There wasn’t much he could say to comfort Scaramouche’s pain. Everyone was still grieving, him included.

His quiet sniffles slowly died down. Just this one time, he thought to himself, wiping away at a tear. It’s the least he can do.

“Let me get my things,” Scaramouche’s voice was hoarse. A pain-like expression was scrawled across his features as he pulled away from Childe and step back into the shadows of his home.

There wasn’t much he needed to do to get ready. He’d given up on life the moment he was given the news that you didn’t make it. Why he had been fighting for so long, he didn’t understand.

He threw on a simple black cardigan, it was a handmade gift from you to him. In your words, it took you a week and a half to make it— “i hope you’ll like it,” you said sheepishly.

Of course he’ll love it. Cherish it even till death.

He took in a deep breath and went to look for Childe. The medications stored in his pockets jangled against the hard plastic with each step he took.

The last strands of hope snapped, and he sunk. Bubbles floating to the surface as his darkened silhouette slowly disappeared under the void of water.

Tonight, he decided. Tonight, he’ll be able to see you again.

The lights sputtered out as Scaramouche flipped the switch. With the last bits of power it has, the lights illuminated the series of letter sprawled across the glass coffee table— each one address to someone dear to him.

Then it all went dark.

✩ ·┆ masterlist

notes—

— this was fun to write

© acaaai-t — do not plagiarize, repost, or translate

[luxtrys]

size kink headcanons with ani pls 😍😍😍 I’m on my knees for this man ahdskks

size kink and ani... ♡

✩ he had always known the two of you had a very obvious size difference. he didn't want to point it out because, well you were so oblivious to it, and he didn't want to say anything about your body or your height that could hurt your feelings but even as a kid you were significantly smaller than him. while all the girls were going through the phase of being taller than the boys in childhood, there wasn't one second anakin didn't have at least 6 inches on you. and he loved every bit of it.

✩ but.. despite how hard he tried to ignore how he was more than a foot taller than you, he couldn't help it anymore. he's so cocky about it 1000% of the time.

✩ "here babydoll, lemme get that for you" you heard a voice say behind you as your back made contact with someone's torso, their whole body fully engulfing you from behind. "i had it anakin" you replied, snatching the book from his hand as you turned around to face him, leaning softly against the bookcase in the library of the jedi temple and huffing. "sure you did angel" his voice was melodic and teasing, cooing as you flinched softly as his ice-cold fingertips made contact with your face to push a loose strand of your hair behind your ear. you really did, i mean god knows how many padawans and jedis watched you jump helplessly to reach the book on the top shelf of the nearly seven feet tall bookcase. "when are you gonna admit you need your big bad ani to help you sometimes baby", he emphasizes the last words mockingly exaggerating how much he had to lean down to cup your face in his massive hands. "never." you replied, slipping out of his grasp and walking away swiftly, giggling to yourself as you heard the booming strides of your now hopefully annoyed boyfriend behind you.

✩ due to his height and well your lack thereof, it's sometimes difficult to express your feelings and display your physical affection to him. and your shyness doesn't particularly help, since you can't simply give him a kiss when you feel like it without having to ask him to bend down as you go all the way to your tippy toes. he admires how bashful and shy you are, he just thinks your to sweet for him, for the world. makers, you can even count the number of forehead kisses you receive from him on a daily.

✩ but it isn't just his height that made you two so different. because everything about anakin is massive. and he knows you loved it. he watched attentively as your cheeks flushed when he basically forced you to compare your hand sizes. along with your palm being pathetically morphed by the massive surface of his hand, his fingers were also at least a couple centimetres longer than yours.

✩ and when i say everything about anakin is massive, i mean everything.

nsfw!!

✩ no matter how many times anakin had fucked you, you never get used to just how massive he is.

✩ he had to use all his might not to cum down your throat instantly when you first gave him head. i mean, it didn't help that you thought the best way to go about it was deepthroating him, choking instantly at the intrusion in your mouth.

✩ even after stretching you out with 3 fingers and no matter how wet you are, its almost always too much of a stretch for you to handle. but he tells you to take it and that you're all alright in the most condescending voice he can muster.

✩ the first time he entered inside of you, and after the cloudy haze from your tightness subsided, he noticed the imprint of his dick in your lower stomach. he almost came right there and then, the sight of his cock digging all the way into your stomach and practically bulging out of your porcelain skin.

✩ he watches the way your eyes nearly pop straight out of your head when he reaches is massive hand down to your stomach, pushing his hand delicately on the outline of his cock. "feel that baby? can't believe i actually fit in this tight little pussy."

✩ and having sex with ani, meant experiencing at least 30 minutes of after care afterwards. he wouldn't let you sleep until he dragged a damp wash cloth up and down your folds, making you shiver. he then picked you up like you weighted nothing, carrying you over to your massive bathtub, filled to the brim with steaming hot water and lavender scented bubbles. you always convinced him to bath with you of course, sitting between his legs and resting your back up against his chest. he then lathered your bright pink loofa up with whatever scent of body wash you picked out before hand, trying not to get turned on again by you for the 100th time tonight at the sight of your soapy body. "so perfect baby" he muttered, trailing his hands up and down your body before cupping your soap lathered breasts in his hands, leaning down to kiss all over your face.

[the-zapped-part-timer]

[lu-dao-writes]

A Hard Pill to Swallow

⊹₊｡ꕤ˚₊⊹𝙎𝙮𝙣𝙤𝙥𝙨𝙞𝙨: Feng Xin and Mu Qing have always been at each other’s throats, and you’ve dealt with it, but now you can’t.

𝙒𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜(𝙨) Spoilers for vol 2, gn!reader, reader is a martial god who served XL, mentioned blood and injury and death, arguing (MQ & FX), ambiguous relationships and ending.

𝘼/𝙉 The ending is open ended, but I like to think it’s Jun Wu that visits you, hehe, cause that man is sus. But hope you enjoy. I’ve been unable to do much lol, but I managed to do this while sick. Also!! If anyone finds and gets the reference I used, I fucking love you fr🤣💕. ⊹₊｡ꕤ˚₊⊹

You were the first to arrive at Xiè Lián’s recently erected palace, mind still reeling from the meeting that occurred an hour ago.

Xiè Lián had admitted to a huge crime, claiming he was the one that slaughtered Láng Qiānqiū’s family during the Gilded Banquet.

Xiè Lián, who was nothing but righteous and good, killed the monarchy of Yǒng'ān because he “couldn’t stand to see them on the throne”.

Yeah, you don’t believe that. Not one bit.

Xiè Lián greets you at the door looking a little disheveled, rubbing sleep from his eyes with his non-injured arm. You wince at the blood and at your foolishness for forgetting to bring something to alleviate it.

“Oh, hello,” Xiè Lián offers bashfully.

“Ā-Lián,” you sigh, reaching out to grasp his sleeve, and he grips yours before allowing you inside. “I’m sorry I didn’t bring anything, I-I just needed to see you.”

Xiè Lián waves off your apology with a smile, sitting down. “Don’t worry it doesn’t even hurt. Jūn Wú did enough.”

“But—.”

The doors open and light footsteps come towards you and Xiè Lián, Mù Qíng soon appearing. His dark eyes meet yours before cutting to Xiè Lián, a scoff leaving his lips. “What? Expecting Fēng Xìn? As if.”

“Mù Qíng,” you start warily.

“What are you doing here?” Xiè Lián chimes in softly.

“The emperor detained you in your little palace. He said His Highness Tài Huá couldn’t come, but I’m not him,” Mù Qíng replies flippantly, digging into his sleeve. He fishes out a small porcelain bottle and tosses it to Xiè Lián. “It’s pitiful watching you sling that bloody arm of yours. Use it or don’t, but no one else is going to help you.”

Mù Qíng has a little smirk on his face, reminding you of a pit viper. It makes you frown disapprovingly, but Xiè Lián doesn’t acknowledge his attitude, and instead he opens the bottle and watches as the medicine does it’s work.

“So did you really slaughter the royal family? How’d you do it?”

“Mù Qíng!?” you exclaim, appalled by his inappropriate excitement and questioning.

“What are you doing here?” Fēng Xìn’s naturally boisterous voice startles them all, but Mù Qíng’s shock turns into something more ugly, disdain washing over his morbid excitement.

“I’m a guest here like you and anyone else is. Last I checked this isn’t your palace.”

Fēng Xìn glowers at him before briefly making eye contact with you before approaching Xiè Lián, his face softening. “Your Highness, what you said at the Palace of Divine Might-.”

“Yes,” Xiè Lián cuts in softly, finality in his voice and expression. “I killed them.”

Fēng Xìn pales along with you, and Mù Qíng looks briefly startled before going for Fēng Xìn again.

“What’s that expression for? Don’t make me laugh.”

You sigh and rub at your temples. “You guys-.”

“It’s not for or about you! Get lost!”

Mù Qíng looks excited again. “That is rich coming from you! As if you’re so loyal; how long did you stay around for again?”

Fēng Xìn grits his teeth, his fists tightening at his sides as a fire is lit ablaze in his eyes.

Xiè Lián fiddles with his his sleeves anxiously, a slight look of anguish on his face. “Please you two, let’s not talk about this right now..”

You on the other hand, typically the calm one and their mediator, are not feeling the aster. Your pulse is thrumming and frustration begins to bubble in your belly. “Okay, stop this right now,” you demand.

But of course yours and Xiè Lián’s pleading goes unheard.

Mù Qíng takes a step closer, finger poking at Fēng Xìn’s chest. “Some say you left because you couldn’t stand to see your former master fall from grace. Tch, such a pretty excuse, but we all know the real reason. You just couldn’t stand to spend the rest of your days cleaning after a broken man!”

“You shut your fucking mouth!” Fēng Xìn practically roars, swinging his fist at Mù Qíng, hitting the delicate looking man square in the cheek, causing him to stumble back into the cabinet, holding his cheek as he glares daggers through his curtain of dark tresses.

You and Xiè Lián gape, the latter standing up, sending his chair backwards.

“Fēng Xìn, Mù Qíng, stop!”

“You think everyone is as vile as you, but I don’t take joy in watching him suffer!” Fēng Xìn snaps, throwing another punch, but Mù Qíng dodges and smashes his own fist into Fēng Xìn’s face.

“Enough!” you exclaimed, only to be ignored and the two to ruthlessly attack one another, breaking a few pieces of furniture.

You escort Xiè Lián out safely before trying to break the other two up from their brawl, but it ends up with you getting shoved aside aggressively by Mù Qíng.

Just as your ass hits the floor, the main doors to Xiānlè Palace opens and a swarm of deathly spirit butterflies come inside, fluttering past Xiè Lián and heading straight for you, Mù Qíng, and Fēng Xìn. You’re yanked behind Mù Qíng as he and Fēng Xìn use a shield to protect themselves, and you from the swarm.

But during this you’re frozen, appalled that you were just shoved by someone you’ve been close to since before you ascended. You watch as Xiè Lián doesn’t put up a fight with Huā Chéng, who steals him away.

You say nothing as chaos goes down in the communication array, only eventually piping up in your private communication array with Xiè Lián. “Ā-Lián…?”

“Ā-(Y/N)?”

“Are you really okay?”

“Yes, yes, I’m okay. I promise.”

You believe him this time, especially as he looks so comfortable with Huā Chéng beside him. You bravely look at the Ghost King. “Keep him safe, please.”

Huā Chéng acknowledges you with an assured little smirk and a nod before he and Xiè Lián both disappear.

Although Huā Chéng is feared, you’ve always trusted Xiè Lián for the most part.

Fēng Xìn and Mù Qíng are still arguing with one another, their voices infuriating you.

“Why are you lying and saying he escaped!? We watched Huā Chéng kidnap him!”

“Is it really kidnapping if he didn’t put up a struggle?” Mù Qíng snaps dismissively. “Get off my ass!”

“You bast-!”

“Enough!” you shout. “Stop it! Just stop it! I’ve had enough!”

The two looked at you with bewilderment, and in return you gave them a vicious stare, eyes stinging slightly as your fists trembled at your sides. “Both of you are so fucking selfish, you know that? First you fight in front of His Highness and bring up your issues you either have with yourselves or each other, wrecking his palace in your brawl, and you disrespect his feelings, as well as mine, when we both asked you to stop! You’re both so wrapped up in yourselves and each other that I’m sick of it!”

“We-!”

“I-!”

“Shut up! I’m done! Done hearing both of you! Get over yourselves! If you want to actually look for him, then do it! Don’t ask me to meditate your petty arguments anymore!”

It’s quiet for a moment before you start hearing other voices.

“I’ve never heard General Qiáng Yǒngmíng get so angry before…”

“Someone finally told those two to shut up..”

“Poor General Qiáng Yǒngmíng. Dealing with those two for this long and finally snapping.”

You feel mild embarrassment as you realize you broadcasted your rant in the communication array, but maybe some humiliation is what these two need, but you doubt it’ll do much. With a huff, you make your exit and ignore Fēng Xìn’s pleas, heading to your palace to hide away.

“Ā-(Y/n), thank you,” you hear Xiè Lián murmur, sounding very faint now.

“Anything for you, Ā-Lián,” you reply, falling into your bed, just as your palace doors open.

[preciouslittle-bhaalbabe]

Silence. Oblivion. She had defied Bhaal in one last rebellion against the god who refused to let her go. The god whom she had defied before and it cost her life and her sight. FInally. At least in death, she was free of him. At peace.

Then a shock radiates through every part of Lillith. Her eyes snap open, and as she sits on the bloodied floor of the Bhaal temple she notices something. Blurry images and shapes slowly coming into focus. She...She can see! She sees the strange skeletal figure that has followed her band this whole time. Offering his services with little to ask in return. She sees her friends, Gale and Shadowheart. Somehow exactly as she thought they would look. Then, worried crimson eyes shoot terrified daggers into her mind. Astarion, the man she has grown to love stares at her with terror then relief. His white curls bloodied by the battle and small wounds spread across his porcelain skin. Despite all this, he looks beautiful.

She looks at him in shock. "...Astarion?" Lillith croaked.

"My love you're alive! And you- you can see me?"

"I...I can see you. I can see everything". Tears fall from Lilliths eyes as she takes in her surroundings. Astarion rushes over to her, falling to his knees and checking her pulse on her neck. He is still in disbelief that she's alive. Then, he helps her up and pulls her into the tightest hug he can muster. Sobs threatening to escape from his throat.

"I can see everything" Lillith says again, still in shock. Her voice barely above a whisper. A grim sight of gore and death in the Bhaalist temple isn't the most idyllic option when granted sight for the first time in years. But she wouldn't trade it for anything. In Astarion's embrace, she feels lighter than air.

"Look at me darling" Astarion takes her face in his hands and brushes her hair aside to gaze into her soft emerald eyes. Clear, no cloudiness. Her blindness is gone.

Lillith takes a moment to study the face of her love. It's exactly what she pictured in her mind. She had mapped out his features through touch. But to finally see his eyes. Full of love and worry. Of desperation and relief. That is another thing entirely.

"You're so beautiful" Lillith says, breathless.

"So are you my love" Astarion barely gets the words out through the tears that finally broke the surface. He had lost her. He lost everything for that small moment. His entire life crumbled before him. He watched helplessly as a god deemed the life of his beloved to be useless, and snuffed it out without so much as a goodbye.

And now, his love is back, and the one thing that he wanted for her the most has been restored. He kisses her forehead and holds her tight against his chest once more. For a moment he could swear he could feel his own heart pounding.

"What Bhaal hast taken from thee, I have restored in full. Thy scars shall remain, but thy life and sight are well deserved. Cherish them both." Withers says with a commanding voice.

Lillith has no words. She can only pepper Astarions face with as many kisses as possible. Gale and Shadowheart join the embrace. Giving words of encouragement and cheer. Her friends, her love, her life. She has it back. And this time, she's never letting it go.

[spooky-pomegranate]

Testing His Will

Captain Price x F Reader (18+) 🔥 Word Count: 3.2k

Summary: Price desperately wants to be physical with you but after you’re injured he worries he’ll be too aggressive. His fear only intensifies when you kiss him for the first time.

————————————————————————

“Will you sleep with me?”

It had been some time since Price’s will had been tested like this. You had felt so warm when you straddled him. And bloody fucking hell, the way you had rocked your hips when he’d squeezed your beautiful soft body, he’d nearly snapped. The kiss had been so goddamn slow and passionate that it would have been so easy for Price to give in, to take you right then and there, to feed his appetite and satiate your own greedy cravings. But he had stopped. He’d told you to get some rest. He’d given you your own clothes and he’d drawn the heavy curtains. He’d pulled back the covers and he’d helped you to bed. He’d been so good.

But then you’d asked him that question…

“Will you sleep with me?”

…and Price felt like the gods were punishing him.

“Yes.”

It was a stupid answer. But how could he deny you? How could he say no when you had kissed him like that? He wasn’t sure he would get a minute of sleep laying next to you, but that didn’t matter. He could just stare at the ceiling and count each of your breaths. He’d be good and keep his hands to himself, because if he wasn’t, if his hands did touch your body, they would be demanding, impatient, and rough. Price couldn’t do that to you. No, he couldn’t be aggressive. Not when you were still harboring some major injuries. He didn’t want to hurt you. Not again. Never again. Right now you needed to be held like porcelain and he wasn’t capable of it. So yes tonight he would sleep next to you, but no he would not touch you.

It was 5:00 am when Price got out of bed. You had fallen asleep almost immediately and he guessed from your deep breathing you probably wouldn’t wake up any time soon. With another warm body under his sheets, Price had also managed to get a few hours of sleep. That was a feat these days. He often struggled with night terrors but last night…last night was different. He’d slept soundly with no dreams at all. He did however wake up with a throbbing headache.

Price quietly walked to the bathroom and grabbed a handful of painkillers he kept in the medicine cabinet. Washing them down with some water from the sink he caught his reflection in the mirror. He didn’t look nearly as bad as he was expecting considering he’d been pistol-whipped, kicked down a flight of stairs, and head-butted a few hours ago. He had a small cut on his cheek and a bruise on his temple. It could be worse. He’d definitely survived worse. At least this time he didn’t fall out of a bloody helicopter. He was still sore, but it was nothing a hot shower couldn’t fix.

The water was running over his face, trickling down through his beard and onto his chest when Price heard a knock. His eyes shot open wide. Your voice called out from behind the door.

“Price?”

“Yeah.”

“Are you in the shower?”

“Yeah.”

“Can I come in the bathroom?”

Panic. He should say no. He should be good. He should tell you to go back to bed.

“Yes.”

Fuck. He shouldn’t have said that. You pushed open the door and Price watched as you stepped into the bathroom. You were wearing a t-shirt and tight running shorts. Your hair was messy from sleep. Even through a foggy glass door and heavy steam, Price could feel his body react to the sight of yours. Bloody hell, what was he doing?

“I got worried when I woke up and you weren’t in bed.” You kept your eyes on the tile floor as you spoke. Your voice was sleepy.

“I’m sorry… I’m right here.”

“Umm, I was wondering… would you mind if I came in there with you?”

Price stood still as the water cascaded down his body. His dog tags stuck to his rapidly pounding chest. If he let you in you would see him… all of him. He was growing hard at the thought.

“I promise I won’t steal all your hot water.”

You laughed and it broke Price. Of course, you could come in.

“I wouldn’t care if you did. Come on.”

You tore away your clothes, throwing them on top of Price’s, and walked over to the foggy shower door. Price’s heart jumped to his throat. There would be no going back from this. You grabbed the metal handle and pushed open the door. He turned away from the showerhead and faced you. The hot water beat down against his back.

You smiled as your eyes met Price’s. He noticed they were large and fierce. Your pupils were so dilated they blacked out their normally striking color. Price raked his eyes down your body. Your curves were every bit as beautiful as he had imagined, but your ribs were marked by large black and blue marbling bruises. They were a reminder for Price that he had to be careful with you. You needed to be touched with tenderness.

But that would be a challenge with how you were looking at him. Vicious, hungry, and desperate. Price watched your face as you scanned his body, gazing over his shoulders, his chest, his stomach, and finally down to his throbbing cock.

You moaned at the sight and he laughed.

“Let’s get you cleaned up huh?” Price needed to touch you now. He couldn’t wait a single moment longer. Carefully he grabbed your hips and switched positions so the hot water was running down your back. He reached for the shampoo bottle and squirted some into his hands. Then gently he moved his hands through your hair, working the liquid into a sudsy lather. You took a step forward and rested your forehead on his furry chest as he continued to rub and knead. You didn’t seem to mind that his hard cock was pinned against your belly. He felt himself twitch as a sickly sweet whine escaped your lips.

“Does that feel good?” Price asked.

“Yes, sooo good.” You sighed and lowered your shoulders, tension clearly falling off them. Then suddenly you took a hard step back and looked up at him. Had he scared you off?

“I didn’t come in here so you could take care of me again Price. I wanted to take care of you… please.”

Fucking hell. What had he done to deserve this? Price watched as you took the shampoo bottle from his hands and set it back on the shelf. You picked up some body wash and poured it into your hands.

“Can I?”

Price nodded and you touched his chest, rubbing your hands through his short dark hair there. You pressed your fingers deep into his tense muscles and whispered a string of honeyed praises as you massaged him.

“You’re so strong.” “Shit, look at your muscles.” “They’re so big.”

Somehow Price managed to stay quiet as you whispered all those things to him. It wasn’t until you said…

“You needed this didn’t you?”

…that Price let out a deep rasping groan.

“Fuck, yes.” He immediately growled.

His answer must have excited you because a red blush spread from your cheeks down to the top of your chest. You both stood still for a moment. Price watched as a cluster of soap bubbles slid from your neck down through the valley of your breasts. He’d never seen something so beautiful in his life. He had to taste you again.

Price grabbed your jaw and tilted your face upwards. You rushed to meet his open mouth, tongues colliding in an urgent fervor that had been missing from last night. You tasted so sweet and delicious. He tried to contain himself as you sucked on his tongue and whined. Fuck there you went, testing his will again.

He broke away and started to kiss down your jaw and neck. His tongue was licking a long stripe by your collarbone when you sighed and weakly spoke.

“Price, please let me make you feel good.”

Price picked his head up. You pressed your forehead against his and thread a hand into the hair at the back of his neck, pulling slightly. He nodded and you slid your other hand down in between your bodies, moving it over Price’s broad chest, across his hard stomach, and then lower.

“Fuckkkkk.”

Price hissed as you wrapped your soft hand around the base of his cock. He grabbed your hips and buried his head into the crook of your neck, nuzzling his beard against your skin. He wanted to thrust into your hand and pound away until he came but he didn’t. He let you stay in control.

“You’re so big.” God, you sounded so sweet.

You were stroking Price at a tormentingly slow pace. Up and down you squeezed him like you were in no rush to ever leave the shower. He grunted into your neck before sucking and licking his thanks.

Price swore he must in heaven. Nothing could have prepared him for how good you were making him feel. But bloody hell did he want you to move faster. He thrust his hips up into your hand, hoping to find more satisfaction.

“Do you want me to go faster?” You whispered earnestly in his ear.

“Mhmmmm.” Price hummed in affirmation, his face still buried in your neck. You wasted no time giving him what he wanted. Your movements became frantic as you stroked him faster and tightened your grip. You let go of the back of his neck and added your second hand, leaving no inch of him untouched. Price took a hand off your hip and slammed it into the wall behind your head. He wasn’t going to last much longer like this.

“Mmmmm gonna come if you keep that up.” He grunted and raised his head from your neck. You kissed him. It was searing.

“It’s okay. Come for me Price.”

Price started to thrust his hips up into your hands, wildly chasing his own end without care. He was panting chest heaving as you focused your touch on his sensitive tip. He kissed you again and again, tongue swirling inside your mouth, teeth pulling the delicate and wet skin of your lips.

“Fuckkkk that feels so good.”

Price brought his head back down to your neck and buried it in your collarbone. He couldn’t hold on any longer.

He felt lightheaded as he came, painting your hands and stomach with his release. You continued to touch him through his bliss but you slowed your movements each time he shuttered. When you finally let go he was out of breath.

“Thank you.” Price huffed.

“You’re welcome.” He smiled and you laughed. That was slowly becoming Price’s favorite sound. He grabbed a wash cloth and helped you clean up his mess. Gently swiping over your body, he felt the water start to grow colder. Goosebumps began to form over your skin.

“Let’s get out of here. You’re getting cold.”

Price stepped out of the shower first and held your hand as you followed. He grabbed a fluffy large towel from a cabinet next to the sink and dropped to one knee. Starting with your calves he slowly dried each inch of you. He took his time, drinking in every beautiful mark. Now that you had shown him your gorgeous body he wanted to remember every single detail of it. If you never let him touch you again he would always have this moment. He could come back here again in his mind.

But Price wasn’t satisfied with just toweling you off and memorizing your figure. How could he be when you had been so sweet and giving? He hoped you say yes to his next question. He wasn’t sure what he would do with himself if you said no.

“I know you said you didn’t want me to take care of you in the shower, but please can I beautiful? You were so good to me. Let me be good to you.”

You looked at him again with those eyes. Those vicious, hungry, and desperate eyes. Please, please say yes he thought.

“Yes.”

Before you could even finish saying the full word Price grabbed your hips and lifted you off the ground. He kicked open the door to the bedroom while you wrapped your legs around his hips and your arms around his neck. Price walked over to the bed and gently set you down on the edge. Careful, he had to remind himself. You needed to be handled delicately.

“Lay down in the middle of the bed and spread your legs open for me.”

————————————————————————

You crawled to the middle of the bed and opened your legs just as Price had commanded. From the moment you saw his entire body in the shower, you had been dripping from in between your thighs. But that wasn’t supposed to be about you. The shower had been about him.

Price was constantly putting your needs ahead of his own. He’d told you to run, leave him behind, and save yourself at your apartment. He’d let you take his room that first night he carried you here, and he’d put you to bed when he clearly wanted to do more with you. If you were going to repay him you would have to catch him off guard. So that’s what you did… and God was it worth it. The look he had in his eyes when you stepped into the shower was pure heaven. The way his nose crinkled when he got excited and the noises he made when he was coming, fuck you never wanted them to stop.

But then, just moments ago in the bathroom, he asked you that question and you’d said yes. Now you were here and Price was standing at the foot of his bed looking down at you like he wanted to devour you. You thought your heart might explode. Price's voice was deep when he spoke.

“You look perfect like this.”

You squirmed under his gaze. He approached the bed and started to kiss your lower legs. You loved the feeling of his beard brushing against your skin as he worked his way higher. He alternated between licking, sucking, and kissing in varying patterns, giving both of your legs equal attention all while using his strong arms to keep you spread open. When he reached the flesh of your upper thigh he looked at you and groaned.

“Can I taste you?”

Afraid that your own voice would give out you simply nodded. The fire in his eyes burned brighter.

“Good girl.”

Price wasted no time lifting your thighs over his shoulders and burying his face in between your legs. He lapped at your wetness and groaned when you arched down into his face. You couldn’t help but whine. You were so eager, so impatient to grind further into him. Desperately needing to feel more friction, you tried to move on your own. But Price wouldn’t have it. He reached up and pushed down on your stomach with one arm, pinning you onto the mattress. You were in his complete control. His strength was on full display. He raised his chin and gave you the most wicked smile.

“Fuckkk you taste so good.”

Your whines turned into whimpers.

“More. Please Price, more.”

Price caved to your pleas. He moved his tongue to your clit and started flicking slowly back and forth. His strong wet tongue on your bundle of nerves felt so good that you needed something to hold onto. Your hands reached down and grabbed fistfuls of Price’s short hair. He closed his mouth over your clit and sucked, making the most carnal noises. You loved his grunts and groans.

You yanked him hard in a weak attempt to get him to stop. You needed just a minute to catch your breath, but he kept his head glued in between your thighs. Spurred on by your harsh grip, Price started to move his tongue faster and faster. You realized then he was only going to stop once he had made you come. This would be the death of you. Your head was spiraling.

“Oh my God, that feels so good. Please don’t stop. Please don’t stop.”

You were a babbling mess when Price finally broke away from your center and kissed your thigh. But he didn’t let you collect yourself. Instead, he slid a finger inside you, curling it upwards and finding that sweet gummy place.

“Is that the spot? Right here? Is this where you like it?”

Price was smiling when he asked those questions. Smug bastard. He must have known from the way you were whining and moaning, that you were putty in his hands. He had to know that you were drunk on his touch. Your head snapped back against the mattress as slid a second finger inside of you. You could feel the pressure building in your core. How did he always know what you needed?

“Do you want my mouth again? Would you like that?”

“Yes Price, please. Make me come. Please.”

You were begging. Anything he wanted to hear you would give him. Anything to have his mouth over you again. But Price wouldn’t make you plead any further. He brought his mouth down and sucked on your clit hard while continuing to pound away with his fingers. You let go of his hair and grabbed the sheets, yanking them to your chest. You were on the edge, any second now you would fall. You just needed a push. Price raised his head from between your thighs. His blue eyes stared up at you through his lashes.

“Be a good girl and come for me.”

Price’s hoarse voice was all the push you needed. Your orgasm crashed over you rough and fast. You clenched around his fingers as he continued to fuck you with them. You let go of the sheets and reached down and grabbed his forearm with both hands, nails digging into his skin. Your body thrashed against the mattress. You could feel your pulse rapidly beating in your throat.

“There you go beautiful. Take what you need.”

You rocked your hips forward as Price lowered his chin and tasted you again. God how you loved the sight of him in-between your thighs. Every bristle of his beard against your skin made you twitch with overstimulation.

After he had thoroughly cleaned you with his tongue he climbed up on the bed and laid next to you, curling you against his chest. You tried to catch your breath as he rubbed small circles into your hip. The two of you laid together in content silence.

“I guess it’s my turn to thank you now huh?” Your voice was weak when you finally spoke. He laughed.

“Absolutely not. I think I might have enjoyed that more than you did.”

“There’s no way that’s possible.” It was your turn to laugh. You couldn’t remember the last time someone made you come like that. You laid your head back on Price’s chest and listened to his heartbeat. You felt safe for the first time in days.

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This is an excerpt from my much larger work on AO3. If you would like to read the whole story thus far here is the link. If you are just here for the *spicy bits* I have more fun excerpts called "Violence and Timing" and "Falling Apart" here on Tumblr.

[sahisan]

★ summary: scaramouche (from this cyberpunk au from hoyofair's 2ep) x gn!reader.

☆ cw: fluff. sfw. established relationship. scara is wounded (kinda). reader has healing powers.

this was requested by @ahtopoteyto:

«s/o healing a hurt AI (were they ai? i don't remember) Scara since their skins crack when they get damaged but how would the healing work it's really uncertain so i was afraid it might be to difficult for you😥»

☾ a/n: ty for the req! i hope this idea of healing is like. portrayed good in this fic cause it was a very spontaneous thought and i decided to write it in.

subtle knocking at your door is what wakes you up exactly at 2:09am at night, startling your peaceful sleep away. as you rub the sleepiness off of your eyes, groaning quietly into your pillow, the knocking continues, now more urgent, and you're battling between going back to sleep and standing up.

you decide on the latter.

"coming, im coming! gods, why so loud..." you mumble sleepily as your hand finds the desk lamp at your bedside table and turns it on, faintly discernible light shining through your bedroom now.

the first thing you see as your front door opens is scaramouche's cracked face. it has small and big schisms all over, and his neck and hands do too. your eyes widen, expression falling into something unreadable but fearful.

"s- scara?... what happened to you?" you whisper-ask, eyes wide open, roaming all around the cracks in his skin.

"hello to you too..." he mumbles in reply, hand leaning on the doorway outside of your apartment, making a pained face every time he moves - every fissure makes a slight breaking sound every time he does.

"don't stand there, come in already!" you carefully manage to push him inside, closing the front door.

scaramouche looks absolutely awful - skin cracks are basically everywhere, and he hisses as your hand grabs his wrist, but you do your best to not hurt him even more.

this is not the first time he comes home after being weeks out on a mission, but you'll never get used to seeing him in this condition - all pained and with cracks and fissures all over his porcelain skin.

you missed seeing him - your lover - but not in this state.

"you could've at least called me.." you start mumbling, but the turn to face him. "can you sit?" you ask in a worried tone, gesturing him to sit on a couch in the living room.

"of course i can. do i look like i'm disabled?" he grumbles quietly, setting himself on the mentioned couch. he grunts each time he feels his skin cracking more and more. your eyebrows make your face a sympathetic look as you steal glances at him.

"please, don't move." you ask, taking a seat next to him and carefully, cautiously take his face into your hands - he has a a big crack near his temple, and myriads of fissures starting from his neck and moving to his jaw and cheeks.

"can you-"

"yes. of course i can. just don't move." you interrupt him softly, turning his face to the side to have a better access to some of the cracks.

you take a deep breath, and the skin of your palms starts radiating a gentle, soft blue light, shining through the dark environment of the living room. scaramouche closes his eyes - the sensation is not burning, not unpleasant, but very calming - he could describe it as a feeling of having a cup of mint tea on a spring morning, even if it sounds strange to portray such actions' impact like this.

you watch as the tips of your fingers slide across his cracks, and it repairs almost instantly - the fissures on his face start to disappear, dissipate, leaving no scars after them, only his porcelain skin glimmering under the blueish light from your palms.

your thumb glides over a big crack on his temple, recovering the artificial flesh instantly as the light hovers over it.

lastly, you gaze catches another fissure that stretches over both of his lips. scaramouche even opens his eyes to look at you when you stop moving your fingers so suddenly-

-and then feels your lips pressing on his, radiating the exact same blue light which your hands also have still. the crack on his mouth disappears right away, and he even lets go of the tension that lingered in his body for a few moments, eyelids finding themselves closed again. you let your lips stay put on his soft ones for a few more moments, before letting go and looking at his now 'repaired' face.

"do you feel better?" you ask, voice quiet and gentle, as if not to startle him. your palms still have themselves put on his cheeks.

"yeah." scaramouche breathes out, eyes opening to look at you. "but one more kiss will make me feel even better."