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nouearth · 10 months

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a sticky situation.

peter parker x male reader.

summary: peter has a major crush on his roommate: you. everything unravels when he walks in on you changing.

wc: 4.1k. genre: smut. warnings: holland!peter, sub!top peter, voyeur!peter, college!au, dry-humping, grinding, frotting, handjobs, kissing, peter's first time, dubcon, cumplay, peter and reader are shooters, characters are aged up!

a bite of the cold air shuddered your damp and nude body once you stepped out of the bathroom, cataloguing the tidiness of your shared bedroom after. your shoulders tensed when the heated air and cold draft clashed for an estate of your body. but by the way your muscles eased into the green towel around your waist, you’ve figured which side won the war. a warm cheer to victory buzzed in your head.

god, did i luck out with peter…

you found yourself repeating that observation often these days. it’s only been two months into the semester, but you’ve already concluded that peter was leagues better than your previous roommate. though, the bar was low—he was kind of a homophobe. that guy was a walking proof of evidence that opposites, in fact, do not attract.

on the other hand, peter had proven that similar interests and personalities were the foundation of beautiful, growing relationships: both platonically and romantically. still, relationships were never that black and white—a grey area. a theory that will forever be tested on, only for the outcome to come out vaguer than before, you’ve realized.

peter was like you: friendly, smart, awkward at times, funny to some. you and him basically have the same qualities of a dog, but there was more to it.

you both shared the same liking down to the genre of video games, the magic of fantasy novels, the cleanliness of a room, the color-coded organization of study notes, and more.

from there, the similar line of characteristics began to blur. whereas you’d prefer to learn from experience, peter liked playing by the book—sticking to it if he could. peter liked red, you liked blue. he favored savory snacks, you devoured them, but preferred sweet drinks.

opposites attract—the theory was once again, broad in your honor.

difference and similarities aside, you were lucky to have peter in your life. the bedroom was colder before you went to shower, but now it blossomed with a gentle heat.

he knew you hated the cold after a warm shower.

taking the other towel, you dried off the rest of your body while you checked your phone for notifications: a missed call from a friend and a few emails regarding construction around the building you had your classes in.

seriously? still? it’s been almost a year already…

normally, you wouldn’t have walked into the bedroom like this, baring skin and all. but peter went to get food because you both have become familiarized with what they served as food at parties.

note to self: you cannot get full off alcoholic beverages. you and peter both tried two parties ago, and it ended with you two sharing the toilet bowl, detoxing your insides of that liquid poison the entire night. the only enjoyment that resulted from that night was learning that peter was a drunk-crier, and you, a drunk-dancer. your friendship had only leveled up since.

you slid on your white briefs once you dried off before shuffling to the other side of the room, browsing through your shared closet aimlessly: he took the left side, you took the right. it was always dim at those parties, so a nice outfit would be wasted. also, you somehow became a magnet for other people’s misfortunes. it took hours to get rid of the smell of this one girl’s vomit—you threw it out in the end.

“no, no… it’s going to be cold later…” you cycled through your clothes again, sighing when nothing caught your eye. “guess i can wear this aga-“

“hey!” out of nowhere, peter’s voice sprung out from the side of the room, followed by a quiet thud, and you twisted your bare body towards the source out of fright.

“jesus, you scared me.” the closet door blocked your view of peter, and vice versa, but you presumed he was leaning against the frame—a habit you noted. “i didn’t even hear you come back.”

“sorry- what was i saying..? oh!” his shadow loomed between you and him, growing as he stepped closer to the closet. “did you want to eat now or-“

judging from the volume of his voice, you should’ve expected how close peter was when you shut the closet. “fuck!” you jumped back, eyes widening when he was practically chest to chest with you. “dude, you really gotta stop doing that.”

on a daily basis, you always looked up at him, but you never paid it much thought to how much taller he was.

“sorry! guess everyone’s a little antsy with the- oh.” he paused.

“what?” you curiously looked up at him, catching sight of his wandering gaze. you were quick enough to follow it, flickering between glimpses of your bare body and face several times like a tennis ball. somehow, you didn’t puzzle the pieces between his shock and your curiosity until he backed away, skittish in nature.

you were in your underwear. still in your underwear. the barrier was the captor of your embarrassment, heat rosed your cheeks as you stood frozen. and with it, the barrier was also your savior.

“oh- OH!” the size of your eyes matched his and upon realizing he’s been staring for far too long, peter cowered his gaze to the side, a gentlemanly hand blocking his sight as he further backed to the door frame, then blindly bumped his shoulder into the door. “i’m so sorry-“

“no, no! i should’ve knocked. i-“ he groaned out, pacifying the sting to his shoulder with his palm. “that was stupid of me, i’m gonna-“

that was another similarity that you both valued: privacy.

before you could reply, he scattered off. for a moment, you felt hot in the face, in the neck, even on your chest. but it would only take a few more seconds for your skin to cool, comforted by the fact that you could’ve shown more—you didn’t.

when peter scrambled out of the room, his gaze fixated on the ground, to the stripes of his socks as they shuffled to the kitchen.

but he never made it very far, because he was easily persuaded. either by his hormones, by the shape of your body, or by his closeted feelings about you. in the end, it didn’t matter because a tightening feeling conjured him back to his original spot—it was always going to be about you.

he was silent in his footsteps, treading backwards to the bedroom as his throat ran dry—heartbeat equally.

tonight. i should do it tonight. are my feelings that obvious? god, i hope not. wait, no- they are! they gotta be… who the fuck wipes marshmallow off of your roommate’s lips and calls them cute?!

peter does.

as his thoughts ran rampant, clouded his regularly murky mind, you were in his line of sight, perfectly captured in the middle of his gaze—now stilled—awe-strucked while he watched you change.

quick portraits of your thick thighs and calves came and went before they were completely masked by the slide of your shorts. then your stomach and chest; pliant, moist skin that layered over the contours of your body before being covered by a tee. he exhaled, then inhaled, smelling the scent of your shampoo and body wash, and he was delighted because you own that scent.

enraptured because only peter could have his senses triggered by you on a daily basis.

if peter could frame this moment, it would be an expensive endeavor that would sacrifice all the money in the world to find the most perfect materials that complemented your textured skin. your smooth body. your handsome face.

you. that was all he wanted.

peter had been trapped since the day he saw you unpacking your things into the dorm. sweaty from the sun, and you knew that, because you refused to shake hands with him until you insisted on washing up first. he wished you never did—your thighs looked better sweating under those shorts.

he’s had crushes before. one in middle school, three in high school. but they amounted to nothing, he never had the confidence. rather, he preferred isolating himself and admiring from afar. rejections had already been predicted, and he was used to the feeling of defeat. if someone were to accept his advances one day, then that would lead to a disruption of events—a catastrophic end to humanity—he joked.

you were different to peter. he loved how, for once, he didn’t have to be the one initiating conversation. he also loved how you didn’t use him for answers because instead, you would help him out with his assignments.

oh, is that professor warren’s class? I think i still have the textbook for her class… let me look.

even when it would only take five minutes to grab a drink down the street, you still invited him. not out of pity like everybody once did, but because he was your friend. parties have never been your thing, but you accompanied them with him because it made him feel better—to know someone.

maybe since he’s grown more mature since then, but now that he was off on his own, it was up to him to predict his future. it was an advice you gave him one night, and he’s kept that close to his heart since then. not the hate that had inflicted his mind, not his peers telling he wasn’t good enough for someone—but him.

in his imaginary world, peter could feel the walls shake when he was around you. the buildings would then fall apart, the earth would scorch civilians and planetary life with heat, and the thundering rain would only make it worse. it was a morbid image. yet, if it meant that you truly liked him, then…

aliens, come do your thing. we insist upon an invasion!

peter wanted you. point, blank, period. it wasn’t his preferred way to confess, but intense sentiments of like, love, lust—all at the same time—ate him up on the inside, and he was scared of being devoid of feelings for you.

“i want… you,” peter muttered, and you jolted again, turning back around in case you misheard him. you were bewildered at the sight of him. once again, you didn’t hear his footsteps.

“what?” you shuffled nervously on your feet. the tension in the air was thick and hot now with the way he stared back at you, frightened yet assured.

“i want you.” there was credence in peter’s tone, and he neared to the door now.

your eyes narrowed into the deep abyss of peter’s eyes as you sat on the foot of your bed, putting on socks. somewhere in your endeavors, you found a flicker of that familiar joke. “ha. ha. very funny,” you muttered bitterly.

it haunted you. as soon as you came out, you were taunted by those same exact words by your ‘friends,’ by your previous roommate. what made you different from them became a simple reason to cease empathy and kindness, and you were baffled that this was happening again.

maybe peter was like the others after all.

you avoided peter’s gaze in favor of the floor, the legs of your desk, your rug—anywhere but him—and you could feel the color drain out of your face, out of this room—deja vu. “look, i know it’s funny to you because i like guys and for whatever reason, straight guys like to flirt with gay men to get a reaction out of us,”

the rug cushioned the weight of a familiar pair of feet, and you looked up, a great frown etched in your face when your eyes met peter’s. he towered over you, bewildered. “but it makes me uncomfortable. and it’s not funny to-“

he didn’t know what roused him. the pain in your voice made him want to apologize without any resort to excuses. the pout on your lips made him want to cradle your head, yet kiss you at the same time. the growing tent in his pants made him want to pin you to your bed, and simply ravish you.

it was all a blur.

his impulsive thoughts became a reality once he stole the remaining words left in your distress, and clumsily swallowed them with a kiss. you didn’t have time to process his lips on yours because you were then pushed onto your back, stilted and surprised, as peter applied his weight on top of yours—his broader build shadowed you in welfare.

“pete-“ you groaned into the hot, breathy kiss, and despite the light attempts to push him away, you were compelled to return the wet exchange. breathlessly, you repeated, “stop, this isn’t funny-“ he kissed you again. all this time, you could’ve had him, but you deluded yourself into thinking otherwise.

“i’m not laughing,” peter muttered, and his hips began moving into yours, aimlessly trying to alleviate the stiffness in his pants. “i want you.” his voice lowered—no longer a confession, but a demand. he rocked into you harder once he felt you throb under those tight short, and you slipped out a moan, memorizing the beat of peter that pulsated against you.

you remembered him being bashful when you two talked about your firsts. you weren’t completely inexperienced like he was, but you mentioned that it’s been a while since you’ve done anything remotely intimate. school was your focus, a relationship was your reward.

“peter,” you repeated again, he wasn’t listening. “peter.” he whispered a demand; to keep calling his name, and you couldn’t help but quietly chuckle at the cliché line often heard in soft porn.

then, you cupped your hands around his temples to pull him away. he gazed into you with ardent hunger, almost annoyed that you ruined the trail of kisses he began leaving on your neck. “did you drink without me? because if you did, then i don’t think we should-“

“i didn’t,” he sobered on the softness of your lips, and like a flip switch, he snapped out of his fictional world of you. “fuck- i’m so sorry, i didn’t even ask you if you wanted to- fuck, i even forgot to say that i like you.” he ranted to himself, beginning to pull himself away. “this was not how it was supposed to go.”

infatuation had expanded into something beyond your control, and your feelings for him ignited even more. a wick bursted into powerful flames, and it warmed your body knowing that you two shared the same sentiment.

before he completely peeled himself off your body, you pulled him down by the neck, then pressed your nose to his, grinning. “I like you too.” a peck to the tip of his nose, then the center of his lips. your onslaught of fleeting kisses to his skin drowned him, pacifying every muscle in his body until it became jelly, and also making it all the more easier to roll him under you.

“not exactly how i imagined my first date with you, but,” you straddled his lap, roaming your hands around peter’s chest, an asset of his you’ve frequently daydreamed about. “you sure?”

the applied pressures to your waist, then bottom should’ve been a definite measure of his answer, but he smiled up at you, guiding a steady pace of your hips to his groin. he was easily distracted, suddenly cascading his other palm up your shirt then down to finally feel the bare skin he had spent long showers jerking off to. fantasies had now been served onto a platter before him, and peter planned on devouring you, piece by piece. “please.”

“must have had a lot on your mind if you couldn’t even confess to me.” it was unusual to see him like this—absolutely enthralled by your presence, high off of it. aching for more of you with the way he pushed his groin into you. “how long have you been thinking about this?” being unusual always had negative connotations to it.

you pressed into him harder, rubbing at his print with gallant grinds. not in this moment.

he moaned, “far too long…” then fumbled with the waistband of your shorts before doing the same with the zipper. “you’ve been driving me crazy, especially these days.” it was a simple task, a daily labor that peter was great at, but his hands shook when his finger met metal. you chuckled, and placed a comforting hand to his cheek, stroking the soft skin with the amplest caress.

take your time. i’m not going anywhere.

“mind sharing what you thought about then?” the only time you peel yourself away from peter’s groin was to help him slide your shorts off, then his jeans. peter lifted his hips, and you two were joined together again. aching together. “just curious.” you joked by pulsating your bulge, and he shyly laughed when he saw the restrictive twitch.

felt it.

“well... where do i start?” peter’s warm hand rested on your inner thigh, dangerously close to your erection while delicately exploring your soft skin. “there’s been so many times where i just wanted to…” he was too ashamed to finish his sentence, looking away.

“wanted to…?” your body arced over his, placing a persuading kiss to his cheek, then neck. “what was it?” they lingered, sunk deep into his skin with the utmost affection, and he left the deepest, pleasurable sighs as if you withdrew it from him. you commenced his dilemma. “tell me what you thought when you first saw me. saw that i was your roommate.”

“i...” peter began, and you could tell his nerves got the best of him, so you rocked into him again, begged with your hips. the position made it easier to feel all of him, press into his warmth more, and you couldn’t stop. wouldn’t. “i didn’t know what to feel. i was happy, that i had someone as kind as you…” you gleefully hummed, agreeing as you continued leaving kisses to his neck.

“then i was nervous, because you were so… cute. handsome. beautiful.” he moaned when you began to grind in slow, deep strides. your bulges squeezed and pushed one another, peter did the same, growing impossibly bigger against you. “but when i saw you in those shorts, sweating because move-in day was always on a hot day…”

“yeah?” you beckoned him to finish his sentence because you were closing your eyes now, remembering that very moment because you felt the same. the way peter’s chest, his muscles, were broad and stunning under his own layer of sweat, under his loose shirt, under that naivety that you would never have dreamed to think of him as such a…

“i just wanted to fuck you.”

pervert.

the shy smile he gave you messed with your perception of him. clearly, you’ve underestimated him all this time, and you kissed him again. “so, you only thought about pleasuring yourself.”

he quickly broke the kiss to defend himself. “wait, no! t-that’s not what i meant.”

“peter, relax.” your laugh calmly settled into a comforting smile, and you blindly reached down to his thick print, feeling and squeezing at whatever you can because you were desperate to explore him. “i’m joking.” his chest rose.

for the remainder of time, you spent it stroking peter through his underwear. dryly to his frustration, but he never told you because he wanted to experience you in every way. his lips never left yours, only parted to moan into your mouth when you shoved your hand into his briefs to sate your desire to feel him bare.

peter was big in your small hand. the weight felt suffocating to your palm when you grabbed ahold of his sack, fondling his balls, then stroking his cock again, and you were intoxicated in the way he melted under you, looked into you, begged for you to go faster.

you did. who wouldn’t when he gazed at you with the most puppy-like eyes?

he had complete control of you now, because every action, every stroke, from then on had been a journey to his personal paradise. you didn’t care that you were left abandoned, that you were aching harder than he was. watching him was more than adequate.

both pairs of briefs and shirts have been tossed to the side now, and you maintained your straddle. it was riveting to watch how much bigger peter was when you took both of your cocks together and stroked. he practically enveloped you with the weight of his length, the girth of his shaft, and you wallowed in the fact that he was incredibly bashful about it.

peter’s hand never left your body. he charmed you by his neediness. it was clumsy in execution, but he always squeezed a moan out of you with he felt your ass, your chest, your nipples, your thighs. “fuck, pete.”

everything about you was beautiful, incredibly more so when you caved into him as he dealt kisses to your bare skin and took his own turn at jerking the both of you off.

he was eager. delirious. hard, stiffening hard, against you, and you felt every vein pulsate the harder— the faster—he squeezed and stroked. you leaned back, hands planted to the mattress beneath you, then maneuvered your hips to the rhythm of his fist. you found a pace while peter kept you steady, and fucked into his fist, against his wet cock, sliming your dripping pre-cum together with the utmost fervor.

“wait, (m/n),” he hiccuped, and his hold on you tightened, nails dug into your left waist but you ignored his plea, fucking steadily into his fist. “stop, i’m going to-“ they fell on deaf ears, and mouth agape, peter watched you with incredulity. you can feel his body flex, your balls smushed to his when you grinned up, your pre-cum sticking to his, his to yours, like a sick web. “s-stop, oh god.”

and peter unraveled before you with a guttural moan, finishing the rest of his plea with a blasting of thick and creamy ropes to his chest, like a cannon. the force was strong enough to have a few shots land on his face, then his hair, and then somewhere above because peter was a big shooter—a strong one, you’d passionately testify. “f-fuck, i didn’t mean to cum so-“

“holy shit.” you watched peter in all his glory, then in his embarrassment, while stilted on his lap and sweating, not taking notice of the delay of your climax because it crept up on you quick. a rocket broke the cloud in your thoughts with a boom, and you spilled all over him, shooting like fireworks. “shit!”

peter was your canvas, and it was your duty to paint him. debris of sex splattered everywhere, because you somehow found the strength to continue fucking yourself into the cream of fist, unloading and unloading onto him until you were dry, heaving and dripping.

“fuck- I didn’t mean to ruin your sheets-” he mumbled, a blush stained his cheeks, and you joined in the warmth with a kiss, panting.

“where’s the fun in all of this if you aren’t going to stain at least one thing.” your brows raised at the wet stain on the wall above peter’s head, right below your wall-shelf, and peter’s gazed followed.

he groaned, distressed by the evident he made. “fuck, sorry…” his bashfulness only endeared you even more.

“it’s okay,” you hopped off his lap, stretching your arms into the air. “i’ll clean you up.”

“okay,” peter lay still, his hand cautiously held over his stomach to catch the drips of his cum and yours. it was fascinating to watch the mixture flow together, strands of it melding and un-webbing as he played with the sticky residue. it was the scientist in him. “my towel is on the- fuck-“

without a beat, you took his dripping flaccid cock into your mouth, sucking off any remnants of spunk. an unfamiliar taste you weren’t used to, bitter and salty. it wasn’t until you noticed how peter’s eyes glazed over you, half-lidded because he was in heaven now, that you found the taste of him delectable. peter’s caution for staining your bed sheets was disregarded, because he knew you’d clean the rest of him off.

after you pulled away with a soft pop, he traced your wet lips with the cum on his fingers, then his knuckles, before he pushed one by one into your mouth. one finger at first, then two, then three, you moaned erotically around his digits as peter pumped, marveling in the eagerness of your mouth. he slowly pushed more cum into your mouth. the creamy residue gathered at the corner of your mouth at first but he made sure to scoop it back in, and continued doing so until he was polished clean.

nothing was wasted.

the taste of you and him spread in the warmth of your tongue, and you have never felt more intoxicated.

to peter, you have never looked more beautiful.

nouearth. please do not repost, plagiarize, or translate my works. andif you like this story, please reblog and leave a like!

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musicforastylesrestaurant · 8 months

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The Pumpkin Patch.

masterlist || ask me anything <3

my blurb masterlist is here, huns!

authors note - in honour of finally approaching october, enjoy this little mess that my brain magically comes up with when i’m bored…and lhh as a dad because that is simply girl dinner.

word count - 2k

in which, you and harry decide to take your son teddy to the pumpkin patch in honour of it finally hitting october, the three of you decide to make a day of things, and let’s just say the day doesn’t exactly turn out how you all expected it, a series of unfortunate events occur and that all starts out with your fiancé getting annoyed that the sat nav isn’t helping him very much.

trope: fiancé!harry x reader

October holds a special place in your heart, like no other month ever could. It was the month when you first embarked on a life-changing journey, leaving your homeland to pursue higher education in the United States. It was a time of excitement and trepidation, but little did you know that it would mark the beginning of countless beautiful memories.

During those university years, October became a symbol of friendship and camaraderie. It was when you met your lifelong friends, people who would stand by your side through thick and thin. Together, you navigated the challenges of academia, celebrated achievements, and forged bonds that would last a lifetime.

One particular October stands out vividly in your memory. It was the month of your graduation, a momentous occasion that your family didn't want to miss. They flew out to share in your joy and celebrate your accomplishments. Their presence made the milestone even more meaningful, filling your heart with warmth and love.

But the most extraordinary chapter of your life was written in the pages of an October. It was in Los Angeles, while browsing through a record shop, that you first laid eyes on Harry Styles. The connection was instant, as if fate had brought you together. In the midst of music and conversation, your love story began to unfold.

It was in October when he first whispered those three magical words, "I love you," after a night of watching a scary movie that left you clinging to his chest, finding comfort in his embrace. That moment of vulnerability deepened your bond and solidified your love for each other.

During a serene picnic in the park, surrounded by the beauty of autumn, Harry surprised you with a question that would change your lives forever. He asked you to move in with him, a gesture that symbolized commitment and a future together.

The circle of life continued to expand in October when your son, Theodore, affectionately known as Teddy, was born. The joy of parenthood brought immeasurable happiness and completeness to your lives, and the autumn leaves seemed to dance in celebration.

And then, in an enchanting October evening, Harry knelt down on one knee and proposed to you. Under the starry sky, he presented you with a ring, promising a lifetime of love, happiness, and adventures together. Tears of joy welled up in your eyes as you said yes, feeling like the luckiest person in the world.

October, with its vibrant colors and meaningful milestones, had become more than just a month on the calendar; it was a testament to the beauty of life, love, and the incredible journey you had embarked upon. It was safe to say that October had etched its place as your favorite month, forever holding the key to cherished memories and boundless love.

As you, Harry, and your almost two-year-old son Teddy set out for the pumpkin patch in Harry's sleek black Range Rover, there was an air of excitement in the car. The vibrant colours of autumn and the promise of pumpkin picking had everyone in high spirits. However, it didn't take long for things to take an unexpected turn.

Teddy, safely strapped into his car seat, began to cry, his little arms reaching out for his father. Seeing as Harry had been up all night comforting his baby boy who appeared to be getting his molars growing, he had tried everything, and the only thing that seemed to help the poor boy was to be cuddled up with both parents in their bed, with a teething toy in his grasp.

So, when the two of you woke up this morning, you had decided to take everyone’s tired minds off of things and have a fun little day out, but that didn’t seem to be going the way you had originally planned.

Harry couldn't easily comfort him, as he was engrossed in a battle with the aggravating sat nav system that seemed determined to make the journey anything but smooth.

You turned round in your seat and leaned over to Teddy, offering him a soothing voice, "Hey, ted. Daddy's driving right now, but he'll be with you soon. Look out the window, see the pretty leaves?"

Harry, growing increasingly frustrated, muttered, "S’thing is driving m’nuts. S’like a maze."

Teddy's cries persisted, and you rummaged in the bag for a toy to distract him. "Teddy, how about this colourful toy? Can you play with it?"

Harry let out another exasperated sigh, his eyes fixed on the sat nav screen. "All I want is t’find that pumpkin patch."

The journey went on like that for about another ten minutes before Harry finally got the hang of where the sat nav was trying to take him, and Theodore succumbed to silent sniffles when your fiancé reached his hand back and let his son hold onto his finger like he was a newborn all over again.

Theodore Styles was born just a year into the two of you officially dating, on October 18th, 2013. You and Harry were only nineteen. Although both of you were only young, you both had support from your family and friends and even though Harry’s job was a very demanding one, he always made sure to put the two of you first, so fast forward to October 2016 you were the perfect family unit and you were one step closer to becoming a Styles just like your other two boys.

As you, Harry, and Teddy finally pulled into the sprawling pumpkin patch, a sense of excitement filled the air. The fields were covered in a sea of vibrant orange, and the prospect of a fun-filled day lay ahead.

Driving through the muddy terrain, Teddy was securely strapped into his car seat, but his little face was pressed against the window. His bright eyes were wide with curiosity, and he couldn't contain his delight as he pointed at everything in his limited vocabulary, his baby talk filling the car.

"Look, Teddy," you exclaimed with enthusiasm, "those pumpkins are huge, aren't they?"

Teddy responded with bursts of infectious laughter, his tiny finger continuing to point at the pumpkins, each one seemingly more fascinating than the last. His joy was like a contagious wave that washed over the car.

Harry, his long hair falling in front of his eyes, expertly navigated the muddy path. He drove with one hand on the steering wheel and the other resting on your thigh, occasionally glancing at Teddy's adorable antics.

"That's right, Teddy-Bear," Harry chimed in, his voice filled with affection, "those pumpkins are as big as y’are!"

The car rolled on, winding through the pumpkin-filled fields. Teddy's laughter and baby talk were a constant source of amusement, brightening the atmosphere in the car.

You couldn't help but join in the excitement. "Teddy, do you see those scarecrows over there? They're guarding the pumpkins!"

Teddy's laughter escalated as he looked at the scarecrows, his tiny hands reaching out toward them. His innocent joy made the entire journey worthwhile.

Harry put the car into park and turned to you. "Alrigh’ m’love,"

As you worked on getting Teddy out of his car seat, Harry made his way to the trunk. He looked at you, holding the baby bag, and asked, "Do y’think we'll need t’stroller?"

You considered for a moment, remembering that Teddy hadn't slept well during the night. You nodded, knowing that he might get tired later. "Yeah, H, I think it's a good idea. Just in case."

Harry nodded in agreement and began setting up the stroller while you gently unstrapped Teddy from his car seat. He wriggled out of your arms, his little welly boots and beanie adding to his adorable appearance.

With Teddy on the ground, you smiled down at him. "Look at you, ready for some pumpkin picking, little man!"

Harry, now with his hair tied into a man bun to keep it out of his face, locked up the car. He glanced at Teddy and then at you. "Alrigh’, s’make some pumpkin memories."

As the three of you approached the entrance to the patch, The stroller stood empty as Harry navigated it through the muddy pumpkin fields.

Teddy, in his infectious excitement, was far too eager to explore on his own. Instead, you held onto his tiny hands, and he practically pulled you along, his chubby legs wading through the mud, creating tiny boot imprints with each step.

The pumpkin patch sprawled before you, a vast sea of orange and green. Teddy's eyes danced with wonder as he darted from one pumpkin to another, each one seemingly more fascinating than the last. His little voice bubbled with delight, even though his words were a jumble of baby talk and giggles.

Harry manoeuvred the stroller skillfully, occasionally glancing over to check on Teddy's progress. Teddy's tiny boots splashed through puddles, his beanie bobbing atop his head as he explored this pumpkin wonderland.

You marvelled at the sheer joy radiating from your son. Holding his hands, you let him lead the way, following his excited tugs and twirls. The mud-splattered boots and the occasional stumble didn't dampen Teddy's enthusiasm in the slightest.

About fifteen minutes into your visit to the pumpkin patch, you found yourselves standing in front of a scarecrow, admiring its rustic charm. Teddy, so far, had been on a mission to pick up every pumpkin he walked by, not quite grasping the concept of a pumpkin patch and getting upset when you told him that you needed to find the perfect pumpkin before heading home.

As you were enjoying this quaint moment, a friendly woman from another family who was passing by noticed your trio. She offered with a warm smile, "Would you like a photo of the three of you by the scarecrow?"

Harry didn't hesitate for a moment. He beamed and said,

"Yes, please!" as he quickly handed the woman his phone, which was already open on the camera. He gently scooped Teddy into his arms, holding him on his hip, and then wrapped his free arm around your shoulder.

The woman skillfully captured the moment, ensuring you were all framed by the scarecrow and the vibrant pumpkin patch behind you. Teddy, still clutching a small pumpkin in his chubby hand, looked at the camera with curiosity, and his innocent smile added an extra layer of charm to the photo.

After the picture was taken, you thanked the kind stranger, and Harry, still holding Teddy, shared a grateful smile with her.

Ten minutes after Teddy's encounter with the scarecrow, the pumpkin patch adventure continued, with Teddy now running ahead of you and Harry. His tiny legs carried him with an uncontainable exuberance as he darted between pumpkins, each one a new discovery in his eyes.

You pushed the stroller, its wheels rolling through the earthy paths, while Harry walked beside you, holding your hand. Both of you watched Teddy with hearts full of fondness as he explored this autumn wonderland. His laughter was a symphony of joy, filling the air and brightening your day even more.

The pumpkin patch seemed to be Teddy's playground, a place where he could express his boundless curiosity and energy.

About five meters ahead of both you and Harry, Teddy suddenly stopped in his tracks, captivated by a rather large pumpkin. It seemed to be the biggest one he had seen so far, and his little hands eagerly reached out to try and pick it up. However, it was a challenge even for his determined efforts.

Harry and you shared a chuckle at Teddy's determined endeavour. He didn't give up, though, and instead, he called out to Harry in his adorable baby talk, "Dada, hep! Hep, Dada!"

Harry couldn't resist the plea, and with a playful grin, he made his way over to Teddy. Together, father and son wrestled with the pumpkin, their laughter filling the crisp autumn air.

While they worked on the perfect pumpkin, you put the brakes on the stroller and crouched down in front of your little boy. You asked in a sweet baby talk, "Is this the pumpkin you definitely want, Teddy?"

Teddy nodded his head vigorously, a bright smile on his face. He wrapped his little arm around your neck, expressing his delight and contentment with the choice

“S’settled then,” Harry grinned up at you, holding the pumpkin in his tattooed arms. “Fancy grabbing a coffee at the lil’hut before heading off? God knows we need it.”

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suugarbabe · 4 months

Note

La lectora f!reader una chica con una personalidad muy atrevida y extrovertida, mientras que Lorenzo es todo lo contrario. No puede estar sin sonrojarse ante los comentarios que le hace el lector. Al lector le gusta follárselo, haciéndolo suplicar, llorar y gritar hasta que Lorenzo le dice que no puede más y que necesita correrse.

okay so i had to google translate this request but i think i got the gist of it I'm including the translation i'm working off of so hopefully this is what you were wanting!

prompt: The f!reader reader is a girl with a very daring and outgoing personality, while Lorenzo is the complete opposite. He cannot be without blushing at the comments that the reader makes to him. The reader likes to fuck him, making him beg, cry and scream until Lorenzo tells her that he can't take it anymore and that he needs to cum.

"Looking fit today, Berkshire," you can't help but pinch his cute little bum as you walk past him in the hall. The action causes a small yelp to leave his lips while the comment creates a flash of scarlet across his nose and over his cheeks, the freckles that dust over his nose more accentuated.

You loved making him blush. It was one of your favorite things to do, amongst other things. So on your way to lunch you decided you were going to do it again. Sitting down with the others you joined in the middle of a conversation. "You going to the party tonight, Princess?" You looked up from your plate to find Mattheo smiling uncharacteristically sweet at you.

"Of course, Riddle. You know I never miss a party, especially one we're throwing." Mattheo turned his stare to the boy next to you, "See, Berkshire, she's going. Now why won't you go?" You turned your body side ways on the bench, placing your hands on the wood in front of you. You knew this position accentuated your breasts and you put on your best puppy dog eyes and full pout.

You looked up at Enzo, who was trying desperately to avoid your gaze. "Enzie, are you not coming tonight?" Enzo gulped, words stuttering from his lips, "D-dunno. Not sure if I'm f-feeling a party tonight." You scooted closer, placing a hand dangerously high on his thigh closest to you. You leaned up slightly, whispering in his ear so only he could hear. "Would be a real shame if you didn't. I bought the sluttiest little dress, just for you," you drew circles with your thumb, his hard on increasingly growing and becoming more evident.

This time his blush made it to the tips of his ears, his eyes nearly bulging out of his face. You knew the effect you had on him, and his friends knew it too. That reaction alone let them know they had gotten what they'd wanted.

As shy as Enzo appeared at all your little comments, he actually relished in them. He knew the more you came at him during the day, the better it would be for him at night. So he welcomed your crude comments throughout the day, never let you leave his sight during the party. You weren't lying when you said the dress was slutty. A slinky black number that he was convinced had to be keeping you covered purely by magic alone.

When you finally grabbed his wrist and began dragging him upstairs it was all the strength he could muster not to fall to his knees and whimper on the spot. But his legs seem to be able to keep following you, one foot in front of the other until he's in your room, and you've locked the door.

And now his hands were tied to your bed posts and there's tears running down his cheeks as he begs, "P-please, Angel, fuck, can't....can't hold it any longer, need to." A slew of incoherent babble leaves his lips as you sink down on his cock once more, fully sheathing him inside you. You grind on his cock, catching your clit on his pubic bone just right and moan out in pleasure before locking eyes with him.

"What do you need to do, baby?" Your hand is placed gently on his cheek, thumb swiping at his tears before sticking it in your mouth. You make a lewd scene of your tongue swirling around the digit and his hips buck up into you cause a groan to leave you both before your head snaps back down and you tighten your grip on his face. Enzo is immediately apologizing, "M'sorry, sorry Angel, just hurts so bad. Please, please let me cum. Wanna fill you up, wanna make you feel so good, so full."

If you weren't so close to the edge yourself you'd have made him hold out longer, but he knew you as well as you knew him and he was right. You started bucking your hips, grinding down on him. You leaned down close, licking a sloppy stripe up the side of his neck before whispering in his ear, "Go on baby, make me feel good, want you to come so deep inside it's dripping out of me for days." You flick your wrists, the restraints on Enzo disappearing instantly.

"Fucking hell," with the green light his grip is on your hips fast and hard. Fingers digging into the flesh as he ruts his hips upwards, fucking up into your cunt from underneath you. You grip his shoulders for stability, your head thrown back at the sudden change of pace and pleasure. You can feel his cock twitch deep within your walls. Your nails dig into his shoulders and that's the final push before his hips stutter, a guttural groan leaving his throat as he spills inside you. You're not far behind him, cunt clenching and milking him for all he's got as you're seeing stars, his name falling from your lips.

#enzo berkshire x reader #sub!enzo berkshire #enzo berkshire smut #enzo berkshire x you #sub!enzo berkshire x dom!reader #slytherin boys #lorenzo berkshire #lorenzo berkshire smut

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spacebarbarianweird · 4 months

Text

The Dead, the Half-Dead and the Undead

Synopsis: Baby Alethaine is ten and, apparently, the thing she is a dhampir isn't the only problem Astarion and Tiriel have to face.

Tags: dadstarion, dhampirs, necromancy

Alethaine's age: 10

Thanks @queenofthespacesquids for beta-reading!

Read on AO3

Masterlist

Headcanons

Astarion immerses himself in one of his books. It is a complex text that has been written by some ancient magic who had probably been completely insane

Necromancy is an interesting subject, but damn difficult for those without an innate aptitude for it.

It's still midday, but out there in the underground part of Daggerlake, it doesn't matter. The city is divided into two parts, above ground and underground. The city is mostly populated

by dwarves, halflings, and humans but for some reason it feels like home for Astarion.

Besides, the town dwellers had decided they'd better have a vampire of their own than be threatened by other undead.

Astarion is still puzzled by this. Yes, these people should be grateful to him and Tiriel for saving them from a particularly nasty fairy pact. But letting them stay? Tiriel, a half-elven warrior, is one thing, but him, a vampire? Do they really want to share the town with him?

But they are fine. They treat him like others would treat some retired wizard or a former mercenary. But he knows he must be careful - one mistake and the neighbors will remember who Astarion truly is and that there is a reason why he never goes to the upper town in the daylight.

And there is a complication Astarion always has to take into account.

“Dad! Dad!”

Astarion looks up and sees ten-year-old Alethaine. She is upside down, but the hem of her dress brushes the ceiling, ignoring gravity. There's a bit of forest dirt on the girl's shoes, and he can distinguish the smell of wood.

“I told you not to go alone,” Astarion says. When she was younger, Astarion often found it difficult to parent her. The moment she asked something or started crying, he was ready to do anything just to make her feel better. It took him time to get a grip and establish boundaries. He is her father. If he wants the best for her, he has to be strict sometimes. Even if the response is tears and anger.

“I didn’t go to the woods! I was in the meadow. It’s still in the town!”

Fair enough. The meadow is a favorite place for town kids since it is indeed the forest but their asses won’t get whooped by their parents.

“So, what is it, princess?”

Alethaine jumps on the floor with a soft “thump” and she inclines toward him making direct eye contact. Astarion still wonders sometimes if her eyes black because his eyes used to be, too, or because of her dhampirism.

Dhampir.

Half-undead. Does Alethaine even understand what it truly means to her? Town kids don’t really care and adore her ability to walk on ceilings and steal sweets for them. But will it last long? She is ten. When she and her friends grow up, they will notice things that make her different. Will they start fearing her the same way town dogs start howling if Alethaine or Astarion pass by? Will they avoid her? Will they force her out of town to go seek her own kind?

“I want a kitten.”

“Princess, last time I checked cats don’t really like us, either.”

Alethaine sits beside him and forces him to close the book. “No, you don’t understand! A week ago, I found a kitten! She didn’t like me at first but I’ve been bringing her food. And today Wyv let me hold her! She doesn’t mind me at all!”

“Wyv?”

“She is albino! She has red eyes and white fur! I think she went missing from her litter. Or maybe her mother's cat forced her to go. Please! Pretty please! She is so tiny, she won’t make it on her own! And I will take care of her!”

Alethaine stares at him with puppy eyes and her elven ears twitch with anticipation.

“Mum won’t mind, she will be happy there is an animal that doesn’t react to me as if I am some evil entity!”

“Princess, there is a very big chance this poor creature will run away once it senses me in the house. Last time I checked I am still undead.”

“And I am half-undead! Wyv got used to me, she will get used to you, too!”

Astarion flicks the tip of her nose. “But if your mother asks, you forced me to say “yes”.

Alethaine squeals and wraps her hands around his neck forcing him to drop the book. Astarion chuckles when he feels the soft prickling of her teeth on his skin.

“I will be right back!” Alethaine rushes outside, slamming the door.

He had 200 years of pure misery and it still hurts him to see how much was taken from him. But then… Thirty years of something else. Something he hadn’t wished to have.

A woman to hold and to love who is brave enough to trust and care.

Fifteen years of adventures, when they could go wherever they wanted and do whatever they desired. Then, they were offered to stay in Daggerlake, a small town near the Unicorn Rim.

Home was a concept unfamiliar to both of them and Tiriel sometimes begged him to return to the road.

But he was adamant. He needed a home. He needed a place to stay. To own. He wanted a place to stash all the artifacts and books they'd found, a comfortable bed to sleep and make love.

Tiriel wanted it, too, though didn’t admit it.

And five years later the thing he’d least expected happened.

He barely remembers how it was - he was so drunk on blood, he felt his undead heart beating. Then he found Tiriel and dragged her home to pin her to the bed.

As a result…

Alethaine.

His daughter. His flesh and blood.

Sometimes he treats Alethaine as a matter of course. Most men in Daggerlake have children, and usually more than one. But sometimes Astarion gets distracted and forgets where he is, and only comes back to reality when Alethaine taps him on the shoulder and then Astarion looks at her in awe, wondering how he even deserves her.

Ten years. Such a tiny piece of time but Alethaine’s whole life. Astarion can already see the woman she is becoming. The woman he will be proud of, the woman who will have the freedom he had to fight for.

Suddenly, Astarion realizes Alethaine has been missing for far too long. The meadow isn’t really far away and it’s already sunset - Astarion feels it.

Astarion locks the house and goes looking for his daughter.

It's already night when he gets to the meadow. Alethaine is there sitting on her knees with her head bowed.

“Alethaine, what did we talk about not being outside after sunset?”

She doesn’t answer. Astarion comes closer and sees that her face is red as if she has just stopped crying.

“Princess, what happened?”

“It’s my fault” she sniffs. “I should have taken her with me right away,” her shoulders tremble and Alethaine bursts into tears once again.

Astarion kneels beside her, not knowing what to do. He still hasn’t learned how to react to her tears properly - so he does the only thing that works all the time with both her and Tiriel and also works for him.

He hugs her.

Through her muffled cries Astarion manages to understand that the albino kitten got out of the shelter and someone kicked her with such effort she died instantly. Now the kitten’s body lies in a small hole in the ground with her mouth wide open and stains of blood on the white fur.

'It's not your fault, it’s the fault of whoever did this, not yours.’

“No, you don’t understand! I could have taken her with me! If you had said “no”, I would have given her to the neighbors! And now she is dead! She is dead because of me!” Now Alethaine almost screams with all the sorrow a ten-year-old girl is capable of.

Astarion hugs his daughter tighter. He often stays with her on his own when Tiriel leaves to do some adventuring job - and usually, Astarion has no trouble. But right now the only thing he needs is for Tiriel to be at home. Because she can find the right words. She always can. Because what exactly does he need to tell Alethaine? It’s the first time she’s witnessed death. And it was the vilest example possible.

An innocent creature was killed for fun.

Well, maybe he should find that person and break their legs. It won’t help but maybe it will make Alethaine feel better.

“Alethaine, let’s go home.”

Alethaine doesn’t answer.

“Princess, come on,” he repeats.

His vampiric senses feel that something is wrong. As if something eerie, and unnatural has started to happen.

Astarion glances at the dead kitten.

Then the kitten moves.

“What in hell…,” he mutters.

It opens its eyes which glow an unnatural green color. The paws twitch, and the mouth opens showing small fangs.

“Dad! Look! Wyv is alive! She was just wounded! And I thought she was dead!” Alethaine exclaims, grabbing the dead kitten. “We need to show her to the healer!”

Alethaine’s eyes glow with the same eerie shade of green.

Necromancy.

Alethaine has just used the “Rise Animal” spell.

A spell so difficult it takes mages years to learn it.

Alethaine drops the dead kitten on the ground as if it were a poisonous snake.

“No… What is wrong with her, Dad?”

The kitten immediately sits up and freezes. Waiting for orders.

“She is dead, isn’t she?” Alethaine sniffs. The kitten doesn't move, staring at her with its resurrected eyes.

Necromancer. If being a dhampir wasn't enough for her. Necromancers have always been outcasts with their abilities to raise the dead and cast the darkest of spells.

Alethaine is one of them. Twice an outcast.

“Alethaine '' Astarion makes her face him. “Listen to me carefully. There must be strings, connecting you with the kitten. Like a puppet doll. You need to cut them.”

“But she will die”

“It is already dead. it’s not a life. Put it to rest.”

Alethaine wipes tears and the weird glowing fades. Alethaine concentrates, looks at her hands, and then makes a movement with her fingers as if she were tearing threads.

The dead kitten falls on the ground like a puppet.

Alethaine sits down tired and exhausted. Resurrecting a creature, even small animals, is a difficult spell requiring much energy even from adult mages. For a ten year old it’s the equivalent of hiking in the mountains.

Astarion takes Alethaine in their hands.

“Dad?”

“Hm?”

“Will you and mum still love me if I am a necromancer?”

“Of course, we will.”

“You can’t get necrotic damage, can you?”

“Well, I am very undead myself. So fear not, you won’t harm me even accidentally”

“And mum? She is mortal, she can get hurt.”

Astarion sighs. Damn, ‘Tiriel should come back sooner, I can’t answer all those questions’.

“You won’t hurt her. Don’t worry.”

Silence. The little dhampir doesn’t believe him. Alethaine sniffs again.

“Did it hurt when you were resurrected?”

Astarion has to make an effort to keep himself composed. It is still traumatic. Still hurts. Two hundred years of pain. Tortures. Isolation. Transformation.

“I am a vampire, not a ghoul. Ghouls don’t feel anything. They are already dead. you resurrected the flesh but Wyv didn’t feel anything.”

“Are you sure?”

“I am. Alethaine, promise me you won't try to practice alone, all right? No one must know you are a necromancer. People won’t understand. ”

The rest of the walk home is passed in silence. That evening Alethaine refuses to eat, and all attempts to cheer her up fail. She's heartbroken and scared, and whatever is weighing on her mind, she just can't process it.

He needs to think something up. The sooner, the better. Before Alethaine harms herself or someone in the town.

Alethaine can't sleep.

It's been a week and she feels terrible. There are whispers on the edge of her mind, dark and frightening, they call to her, they promise her something.

Alethaine can't shut them up.

She sees threads stretching from her fingers to the dead animals. Worse, she feels the threads leading to living people.

Cause them necrotic damage, the darkness whispers. It is going to be fun! Strike fear in them, make them scream, make them cry! And drink their blood if that’s to your liking!

Tiriel didn’t say anything when she heard what had happened. But Alethaine sees uneasiness in her eyes. Of course, she is afraid! There are strings attached to her as well, one or two necrotic spells and she is dead!

Astarion left two days later - he said he would try to look for something. Alethaine cried and begged to take her with him, but he refused.

Alethaine has locked herself in her room, barely leaving. But the silence and solitude are the fuel for nightmares. For the darkness. For tempting whispers.

The little dhampir gets out of her bed and goes to her parents’ bedroom. Tiriel is fast asleep under a blanket. Peaceful and quiet.

Alethaine fumbles at the door. She is ten, not three! She is too old to sleep with her mother. But the thought of spending one more night alone with those whispers feels awful.

“Kitten? Are you alright?”

“Mum… can… I…”

“Come here.”

Alethaine gets under the blanket and her mother’s arms immediately wrap around her.

“I am afraid,” Alethaine finally admits.

“I know, Kitten. Dad will think something up.”

“What if I hurt you while he is away?”

“You won’t”

“How can you know that? I am a necromancer!”

Alethaine turns around to see her mother’s face.

“Alethaine, you are also a dhampir and I don’t remember you ever trying to drain me. And you’ve had your fangs since you were five months old.”

Alethaine relaxes and hugs mother back.

“Mum, did you always know dad was a vampire?”

“Hm, I learned it on the third day I think. Woke up to him trying to bite me. He is lucky I’d already liked him.”

“And you weren’t afraid to be with him?”

“No. Your father was a troubled person, not easy to handle. But he was worth it. I know you are scared. People don’t take it easy when someone can cast dark spells. But it doesn’t mean you have to be alone or be a bad person, even if it’s expected. You will meet people who will accept you for who you are. Who will love you. One of the kindest men I knew was a warlock with a devil pact. Things aren’t always what they seem.”

Your mother’s blood is so warm! You’ve tasted it once, remember? When you were dying of bloodlust! Bite her, take what is rightfully yours!

As if hearing the intrusive thoughts, Tiriel hugs her daughter tighter.

“Whatever happens, we will always be with you. We will help you, we will support you, and no matter what happens, you can always trust us. Even if you do something really bad. ”

Alethaine sniffs and buries her nose in her mother’s neck.

The darkness steps away, and the girl falls asleep.

She doesn’t have nightmares for the first time that week.

“Alethaine,” she feels a soft tap on her shoulder. “Wake up.”

Alethaine opens her eyes and sees she is still in her parents’ bed. Tiriel, fully dressed, stands at the doors.

“Hm?”

“Dad is back. Could you go down to the basement?”

Alethaine, still half asleep, dresses up and goes down. Her senses immediately tell her Astarion isn’t alone.

“Hello, princess,” Astarion strokes her head the moment she gets closer.

A man in a dirty red robe sits on the wooden bench. His head is bald and his right eye is missing. Instead, there is a blue gemstone with intricate runes.

“Astarion, don’t you tell me she is a dhampir.”

“Oh, she very much is! Alethaine, this is Nris. He is going to be your teacher.”

“Astarion, I deeply appreciate you for saving me from that devil but I am not morally ready to teach a dhampir necromancy!”

“I doubt you will be able to pay me. My services are expensive. And I can always sell you back to the devils. I need you to teach my daughter necromancy. End of story.”

“For fuck sake… How old are you?”

Alethaine steps back. “T-ten”

“Fuck, this is the worst age ever! In a year she will hit puberty and it’s bad even without dhampirism and necromancy!”

Alethaine looks at her father.

“Dad, I don't like him.”

“He is a necromancer, princess. People aren’t supposed to like them.”

“Astarion, I knew I shouldn’t have made deals with you! A devil is better than a vampire! At least with devils, I know what to expect! Alethaine, you know what your father did? He took advantage of my desperate situation and forced me to make a pact with him.”

“Nris, don’t be stupid. It’s a working agreement!” Astarion grins. “And I can summon your former master any time, and, I fear, this time he will be harsher on you.”

Nris curses again, and Alethaine makes a note to use one of the slurs next time she gets into a fight.

The necromancer stretches his right hand, covered in weird tattoos. “Come here, Alethaine.”

Nris sends a shiver down her spine, but Astarion only nudges his daughter slightly, forcing her to approach the mage.

“Dhampir, necromancer, and all this with Fey blood. You did pick the wild cards out of Tasha’s cauldron. What exactly did you do to make your father save my ass from the devils?”

“I-I revived a kitten.”

Nris flinches. “I hate sorcerers to my guts! I’ve spent decades learning how to revive small animals - and you did it just like that! But good for you that you didn’t resurrect a human because if you had, the townsfolk would have burnt you alive. I was trying to make the darkness talk to me and it still doesn’t answer back but it calls upon you like an old friend. Life is truly unfair, Alethaine Ancunin.”

Alethaine is silent, unable to stop staring at the gemstone in the eye socket. The runes move resembling trapped flies.

“Very well, let’s start from learning the basics!”

Astarion leaves the basement. When he glances back he sees Alethaine drawing runes on the floor while Nris is giving her the lecture.

Astarion is tired. He didn’t have time to rest during the week, and besides, the worry of leaving a ten-year-old necromancer who didn’t understand how to control her powers alone with Tiriel plagued him like a nightmare.

Nris doesn’t look like the most decent or talented mage but he is bound to him by a pact and doesn’t have any desire to return to the devils. So, he is going to live in the secret basement under their house and teach Alethaine as much as he can.

Wild cards out of Tasha’s dungeon. Yes, that’s true. An unlikely child with dangerous skills.

Astarion finds Tiriel in the inner yard, throwing axes into the wooden wall. He approaches her and hugs them from behind, placing his chin on her shoulder.

“Tired?” she asks.

“Can I take your blood?”

She touches his curls with her tender fingers. “Of course.”

Astarion indulges his fangs in her neck. Blood streams down his throat, calming him down. Tiriel falters. He immediately releases her neck and takes her in his hands to carry Tiriel to the bedroom.

When they get there they lie together on the bed, their fingers intertwined. Due to sharpened hearing Astarion feels a distant echo from the basement. It seems like Alethaine and Nris have started a screaming match.

“You really didn’t warn him, did you?” Tiriel asks, drawing invisible symbols on his back.

“Maybe. Kind of.”

“Well, at least I won’t be the only mortal in the house.”

“Tiriel, don’t make him your drinking pal, I beg you!” Astarion laughs.

“What? A mug of ale after a difficult day hasn't hurt anyone yet.” Tiriel touches the tip of his ear. “Meditate. I will be with you.”

Astarion nods. Thirty years of happy memories are enough to give him bliss. He concentrates and lets the flow of memories take him to reverie.

Astarion holds Alethaine for the first time. A newborn girl is probably still in pain after being pushed into the world. He hears her fast heartbeat as her living heart pumps half-undead blood through her veins.

He cradles her in his arms. Alethaine is so warm, so delicate, so innocent. It’s not yet clear if she is a dhampir but Astarion knows he loves her. It’s a different form of affection, unknown to him. A selfless love for a child, a desire to make sure she won’t endure the same hardships as he did.

And she must not know.

Astarion gives himself a promise. His daughter will never know about his past. it will never taint her. The pain, the touches, the humiliation, the violence - she will not know a word of it.

Her mindset will be free of that dirt and of that darkness. He won’t pass it.

“Thank you, my love,” Astarion whispers. “This is a gift.”

Tag list

@tugoslovenka @marcynomercy @wintersire @vixstarria @not-so-lost-after-all @ashiro20 @theearthsfinalconfession @herstxrgirl @starlight-ipomoea @micropoe10 @astarion-imagine-archive @veillsar @elora-the-slutty-songstress @fayeriess @lumienyx @tallymonster @caitlincat-95 @tragedybunny @valeprati @lynnlovesthestars @marina-and-the-memes @waking-electric @ayselluna @connorsui @asterordinary @darkarchangel96 @locallegume

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princessconsuela120 · 6 months

Text

✯ EVERYWHERE ✯

—✯

Summary: Sirius has a new found hatred for the new girl at hogwarts, or in other words…you.

Warnings: cursing, not many, it’s mostly just sirius being annoying😭

Author’s Note: might make this a series, I’m not sure yet…but there will definitely be a part two. If you couldn’t tell, I adore Hogwarts legacy and I thought it would be cute to add that into this fic. If the timeline doesn’t make sense don’t come for me, this is just for fun!!😭 also side note, anything not in italics is narration, the italics are flashbacks which tell the story.

—✯

Sirius Black had been far too lucky as of late. He wasn’t sure when it started, this twist of luck he had acquired, but he was sure the start had something to do with y/n Sallow, and her arrival at Hogwarts. That was two years ago, and somehow all of the troubles he used to feel had slipped from his shoulder with the gentle breeze she brought onto campus. She had transferred from the basic education school she attended in Wales in their 5th year of school, quickly catching everyone’s attention with her talent and wit. Having lived with her Grandfather half her life, and in a girls home the other half, both her and the boys were pleasantly surprised with her arrival late into their Hogwarts education. Since she missed so many years of magic, she was assigned a magic tutor from her class, which of course had to be the top of the class from the previous year; Remus Lupin.

—✯

“Oh come on mate, this is ridiculous!” Sirius grumbled, trailing behind Remus as brunette rolled his eyes, making his way through the school while trying to ignore his raven haired counter part. “You’re gonna miss our entire study hall. James and I were gonna make a poly juice potion and tell Snape he had to retake Care for Magical Creatures. Remember when that Puffskein stuck it’s tongue up his nose?” Sirius chuckled. “He made Madam Pomfrey flush his slug nose twice before trying to drop the class.”

Remus couldn’t help but chuckle at the memory, shaking his head.

“That was good. But hey I mean you guys can do it on your own. McGonagall said this could give me extra credit.”

“Oh posh, what extra credit do you need. You want a one hundred and ten in Transfiguration?”

“Her names y/n Sallow, and Professor Dumbledore even gave her full access to the room of requirements for extra practice. This could be good for me, maybe you could even join. Teach you and extra thing or two from when you’re throwing whizz-bangs in class.”

“Whatever mate. No broad is worth the time away from your friends.”

—✯

It started as a rivalry. Sirius had decided that he hated y/n l/n. Not only did she take Remus away from their prancing time, but she had exclude access to the Room of requirement. Not like she needed it. The second Sirius found out about the new girl in school, he made it his mission to find out any and all secrets she might have. She couldn’t be trusted, of course Sirius knew this, which is why he followed her footsteps closely on the Marauders Map. The first time he had found her in an unauthorized underground location, it took him a few days to build up the confidence to follow her footsteps.

—✯

“Inferio!” Y/n shouted, a blast of bright red light shooting from her wand, as the torch hanging from the ceiling light up in fire. Inferio? Now, sirius May had been aloof during charms as of late, but he sure didn’t remember learning that one.

“Damnit!” She cursed, quickly firing another charm to quickly extinguish the fire that was growing in the far corner. Sirius’ eyes widened as he crept into the room. He was lucky to have slipped in behind her, stealing James’ invisibility cloak so he could do so. She mumbled some sort of code under her breath before making her way down into the hidden room.

“Bloody hell?” Sirius mumbled, quickly covering his mouth as y/n snapped her head around.

“Hello? Who’s there?” She yelled, holding up her wand to brace herself.

“Shit shit shit,” Sirius cursed, trying to hurry towards the exit. Now, it would probably have benefited him to somehow clip the cloak in place, to prevent what was about to happen from happening, but Sirius couldn’t be bothered to do so.

“Sirius?” Y/n called, surprised by the boys presence. Sirius whipped his head around, the bottom half of his body hidden under the cloak, only his head floating around. Y/n chuckled, looking Sirius up and down. His face turned bright red, as he glanced down to see his body was gone. He rolled his eyes.

“It’s not funny.” He grumbled, and she kept laughing.

“It kinda is.”

He scoffed, pulling the cloak fully off. He huffed in annoyance as he picked it up and turned to leave.

“You followed me down here?” She called, making Sirius turn around and glare at her, holding up the marauders map that was rolled up in his hand.

“You were going off grid on the map.”

“So you stalked me?” She raised an eyebrow at him. “A little strange don’t you think?” She asked, causing Sirius to scoff again, stomping his foot on the ground.

“So, what, okay, a hidden underground room isn’t?” he whined.

“Undercroft.” She said shortly, Sirius furrowing his eyebrows as his eyes narrowed in on her.

“What’d you just call me?” He asked, making her let out a frustrated huff, gesturing around the room.

“It’s called, the Undercroft. My great grandfather found it years ago. It’s been in the family since, no one else knows of it.”

“Ha. I do I know.” Sirius teased, making y/n roll her eyes at him.

“Congrats, do you want a medal?” She asked sarcastically, and he huffed agrily.

“What are you even doing here?”

“It’s a good spot to practice my magic. Considering it’s been lost from me most of my life. The code to get in is Sallow-Gaunt.” Sirius was about to say something again, before y/n interrupted him. “And don’t try Alohomora, it won’t work.”

He raised his eyebrows, looking at her with confusion as she turned to keep practicing her spells.

“You’re telling me the code, and exactly how to get in?”

“I didn’t tell you anything.” She teased as she turned to face him, making Sirius even more confused than he had been.

“But you just…”

“And if you tell anyone else, I use that spell you watched me preform 3 times.” She raised an eyebrow at him, as he pointed at the door, confused as to how she was aware of his presence.

“How’d you know I was here that long?”

“There’s a reason why this place doesn’t show up on the map.” She said, ignoring his question. He come up to her, shaking his head as he grew more frustrated.

“But everything’s on the map, it’s a flawless system.” He explained, waving said flawless system angrily in his hands. She shook her head.

“Not the Undercroft.”

—✯

There were 4 times Sirius aproached the clock-the entrance to the Undercroft- and only once did he actually go inside. First and for most, Sirius was almost positive the code y/n gave him was false information; he was a master pranker, he’s given false codes before in his life. The first time was a quick come and go. He came up to the clock, looking around to be sure no one saw him, and waved his wand twice to try and unlock the door. “Alohamora won’t work,” Rang in his head like bells. He had heard her correctly, but he wanted to prove her wrong. Low and behold, it didn’t in fact work, and instead Sirius recieved a few dirty looks for trying to unlock a clock on the wall, and decided to quickly leave with his tail tucked behind his legs.

The second time Sirius visited the clock, he couldn’t seem to remember the code he was told. Sallow he remembered, it was her name so that part was easy. But the second line, a name he’s never heard before. He tried everything, Glum, Geltum, he even said Potter a few times shamelessly in hopes it would eventually work. It didn’t-to no surprise-and for the second time Sirius fled the scene with a scowl on his face.

Now the third time he stayed the longest. He had brought both James and Remus with him, after pestering the boys with talk of the Undercroft, and secret codes. The three boys followed the map all night, but there was still no sign of the secret room Sirius spoke. The other Marauders thought he must had lost his mind; certainly his hatred for this new girl was reaching new heights.

—✯

“Because I tutor the girl Sirius, that’s how I know.” Remus grumbled in response to Sirius’ nagging. He had been os entirely convinced that this new girl must have been bad news. In the past few weeks since he had been tutoring her, Remus Lupin had grown quite fond of y/n Sallow. They had a special kind of connection; both having been split from their families and put in childrens homes. Remus found y/n to be a nice break from the craziness that came with the marauders boys, and quite frankly, Sirius’ hatred for the girl bothered him.

“I’m telling you moony, she’s dangerous. She knows these spells that I’ve never even heard of before, I’m sure it’s dark magic.” He ranted, making James look over confused. He had been zoning out, which he usually did when Sirius went off on a tangent, but dark magic seemed to snap him back in.

“Dark magic? That’s a serious accusation pads are you sure about that one?” James asked, causing Sirius to jump up with anticipation.

“Yes! She spoke some curse and suddenly fire was shooting from her wand!”

“You mean Inferio?” Remus asked, having recognized the fire spell from when he read ahead on charms.

“Yes! Inferio!” Sirius shouted, pointing excitedly at Remus.

“Huh, impressive.” Remus said to himself, earning a nod from James as Sirius looked around shocked.

“Impressive!? It’s dangerous, she’s dangerous.”

“We aren’t even supposed to learn Inferio until 7th year. She’s ahead of the game.” James nudged Remus. “She should be tutoring you Moons.” Both boys laughed as Sirius continued to jump up and down, slapping a hand on both boys shoulders to catch their attention.

“Boys you aren’t listening to me! This room, it’s not even on the map.”

“Our map?” James asked, never having seen a room off grid besides The Room of Requirements.

“Yes, our map of the entire campus of Hogwarts, and more. Nowhere does it show this Undercroft she speaks of.” Sirius rambled, causing Remus to scrunch up his face with confusion.

“Are you sure this was some underground room, I mean…maybe she was in the room of requirements and you mixed up the location.”

“No, I’m telling you.” Sirius shouted, shaking Remus aggressively. “Come on, I’ll show you.” He grabbed both boys' wrists, pulling them to the clock.

“Here. Right here, it was this clock right here.” Sirius shouted, causing James and Remus to share a confused look.

“This old thing? This clock has been here since the 1800s, it doesn’t even work anymore.”

“Exactly, now isn’t that a little strange that they kept a clock in here that doesn’t work?”

“From what I heard it’s a gift from one of the Hogwarts families. A, Versilius Gaunt. According to History of Magic he was a direct descendant of Salazar Slytherin.” James explained, examining the clock to find not a single thing out of place.

“Gauntt…that’s it!” Sirius said to himself, remembering the code now to the door.

“Yeah, his portraits hung up in the Slytherin Common Room. Alongside the rest of the family.” James said, shuddering at the thought of the Slytherin common room. Sirius froze, looking at the clock as he grew quieter then before.

“You alright Padss…Sirius?” Remus asked, patting a hand on his shoulder as Sirius nodded.

“Yeah, I’m alright. Why don’t you boys get to transfiguration. I’ll meet you there.” Sirius explained, waving the boys away. They both looked at each other then back to Sirius with concern.

“Minnie’s gonna kill you for being late?” James said, chuckling to himself as Sirius scoffed.

“Yeah, how many times is that now, 8?” Sirius asked, making James shove him.

“Exactly, now she’ll have to kill you nine times. You're a dog Pads, not a cat.” Now Sirius shoved him back, making both boys chuckle.

“Haha very funny. Get to class.”

“We’ll meet you there.” Remus said, smiling as the two walked away.

“See ya.” Sirius called out, before turning back to the clock.

The name repeated in his head. Gaunt gaunt gaunt gaunt. Sallow-Gaunt. He contemplated walking in, spoke the beginning name and then froze. He said Sallow six times before he gave up trying to follow through. He wasn’t sure why, but something inside him was keeping him away. Not enough to stop trying, but enough to keep him out. Maybe because there was a chance that she could be inside, and well, there’s no way in Sirius’ mind that that instance would go down well. So he stood, and stared at the unchanging hands on the clock, and then he left. Professor McGongall informed Sirius he was now up to ten times killed for missing class.

—✯

#sirius black fluff #sirius black imagine #sirius black x reader #sirius black #marauders imagine #marauders #marauders x reader

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annaloveshjp · 1 year

Text

towel secret•♡

Harry Potter x fem!reader

Goblet of Fire

Warnings: none! just fluff <3

word count: 1.3k

a/n: this is kinda short, but I wanted to write a cute little scenario. and I’ll probably be writing more fluff :)

—————

“Harry, it’ll be fine, we can figure it out.” You comforted Harry, rubbing his shoulder.

“We’ve been at it for hours, Y/N. There’s nothing!” He fussed, tossing the sixth book he’d read in the past hour to the side.

“We still have,” said Hermione, checking her watch. “Three hours until we have to go back to the common room. And still, we can bring some books back with us if madam pince allows us.”

“How about I just don’t show up,” said Harry, giving up. “What are they gonna do? Send me to azkaban?”

“Probably,” Ron said, “binding magical contract, remember?”

“Thanks, Ron,” said Harry, sarcastically.

Hermione picked up another book, “this is ridiculous! I mean, who would want to grow their nose hairs into ringlets?”

“I wouldn’t mind,” Fred suddenly appeared from behind a bookshelf with George at his side.

“Sounds fascinating,” said George. “Anyway, McGonagall wants you two,” he pointed at Hermione and Y/N, “in her office.”

The two girls looked at each other, “did we do something?” Hermione asked anxiously.

“Why would we know?” Said Fred, “now hurry up before she gets snappy. And good luck, Harry.”

“Thanks,” said Harry.

Y/N stood up, “we’ll see you in the common room, Harry,” she gave her best friend a side hug.

“Okay,” he said. “bye,”

Hermione and Y/N walked to McGonagall’s office, wondering why she needed them.

“Oh, there you are,” Professor McGonagall said when Y/N and Hermione entered her office.

She walked around to her desk and sat down. “Excuse me, Professor?” Hermione said, “why did you bring us here?”

“Yes, I knew you’d be wondering… well, there’s no easy way to put this, girls. You are all here for the second task.”

“All—?” Y/N started, but then looked around and saw Cho Chang, along with Gabrielle Delacour (Fleur Delacour’s sister) standing in the office as well.

“As some of you may know,” Professor McGonagall looked at Y/N and Hermione, “each champion has had a treasure taken away from them. They do not know what the treasure is, but—“

“Are- are we the treasure?!” Said Cho, shocked.

“Yes, miss Chang,” McGonagall sighed.

“But the clue—”

“Yes, miss Y/L/N.” Said Professor McGonagall, “The clue implies that the treasure would be at the bottom of the black lake. But please, do not worry, for we have ensured that no student will be in any danger.”

“You see, we will be putting a few special charms on you all. You will be unconscious, and will only awake when you have reached the surface.”

“That doesn’t make me feel much better,” Y/N mumbled to Hermione.

“Now, this won’t hurt, but prepare yourselves.” Said McGonagall. The last thing Y/N saw was the wave of her wand before everything went black.

“Oh, shit!”

Y/N had suddenly burst to the surface of the black lake. She looked over and saw Gabrielle struggling to swim, she helped her over to the dock and got up herself.

“Y/N!” Hermione shrieked, throwing a towel around Y/N’s shivering figure.

“Are you alright?”

“I’m fine- where’s Harry? What happened?” Y/N said, her teeth chattering.

“He’s not back yet,” Hermione said nervously, “I don’t know how—“

“Guys!” Ron appeared beside Hermione, “so basically, I fell asleep last night, but when I woke up, Harry told me that Dobby had given him this plant that helped him breathe underwater! And—”

“Woah woah woah, Dobby gave it to him?” Y/N asked anxiously.

“Yeah! But he’s fine, we probably would’ve known if he died down there, right—?”

“Ron!” Hermione scolded, “don’t say tha-“

Suddenly, a figure shot out from the water and almost landed on top of Y/N.

“Harry!” Y/N yelled. She took the towel around herself and wrapped it around Harry as he coughed.

“Y/N—” Harry gasped, pulling her into the tightest hug he’d ever given anyone.

Y/N hugged him equally as tight. “Are you okay? What happened down there?” She asked him over his shoulder.

“The grindylows,” he panted, pulling back to look at her, “or merpeople- I forgot. But they saw I cheated, they attacked me.”

Y/N looked at his neck and saw a bad tentacle-like burn, “oh my—“

“It’s fine, I’m fine,” he told her, bringing her back into another hug. “You scared me so bad, I thought—”

“Harry, I’m okay, don’t worry,” she reassured him. “You’d think this would make us warmer, but I don’t think we have any more body heat to share,” Y/N joked.

“Harry! Thank goodness you’re alright,” said Hermione, handing Y/N a warm towel.

Y/N sighed in content, “ooooh that’s nice, thank you.”

Harry suddenly looked around at everyone near, they all seemed to have lost interest in him. He then grabbed another towel and tossed it over his and Y/N’s heads.

“Harry, what are you doing?” She asked him. They could no longer see anyone else, only the black lake to the side.

“I didn’t want everyone watching,” he said quickly.

“Watching what—?” She tried to ask, but was cut off by Harry gently grabbing her face and smashing his lips onto hers.

She was confused for only a moment before she leaned in and kissed him back. She felt a million butterflies erupt inside her stomach, it was like a dream come true.

Y/N had liked Harry since third year: During the night of Halloween when everyone gathered in the Great Hall, she was anxious and Harry comforted her, even though he was the one in supposed danger.

The previous cold she was feeling was definitely gone now, her cheeks warmed up as she melted into the kiss.

After a minute, they pulled away for air. “Was that okay?” Harry asked, smiling nervously.

“I-“ she couldn’t find words. “it was amazing,”

He smiled wider before taking the towel off of them. “What was that about?” Asked Hermione.

“I wanted to tell Y/N something,” Harry shrugged. Y/N chuckled and stood up with Harry.

“Your attention, please!” Boomed Dumbledore. “The winner is Mr Diggory!”

Cheers and applause filled Y/N’s ears, she clapped along, supporting her friend.

“However, seeing as Mr Potter would’ve finished first had it not been for his determination to save not only Miss Y/L/N, but the others as well,”

Y/N smiled and patted Harry on the shoulder.

“We have agreed to award him second place!”

More cheers and congratulations erupted from the crowd and Harry's friends.

“Well done!” Seamus Finnegan said.

“Second place! Yes!” Ron thumped Harry on the back.

“For outstanding moral fiber!” Dumbledore finished, winking at Harry.

“Moral fiber, eh?” Y/N joked to Harry as they were curled up on the common room sofa that night.

“Shush it,” he muffled against her hair, tightening his grip around her.

Y/N hesitated, then said, “so uhm, about you know, that—”

“Yeah, right,” he sighed, “I’m sorry if it was too soon, I’ve just liked you for so long and I didn’t want to wait any longer. I understand if you don’t want-”

“No no, I liked it.” She said, “And I’ve liked you for a while too, I just didn’t know if you wanted to label it or anything yet, or if we should just see what happens. You know?”

He thought for a moment, “maybe for now we could just keep it on the low. Does that make sense?”

“Yeah, I get it,” said Y/N.

He kissed the top of her head and sighed in content.

“Is it too soon to say I love you?” He asked.

“No,” she smiled, “I think three years is long enough. I love you,”

•

#harry james potter #harry james potter x reader #harry potter fluff #harry james potter fluff #harry potter x reader

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cissyenthusiast010155 · 11 months

Text

My Kind of Crazy ~Young!Morissa feat. Fem!Professor!Reader

This is a Morissa Fic collab with @v3nusxsky with the Sex Pollen troupe!! Basically, the tension between Morissa grows and Reader is the Professor who finally snaps and confronts them. This was so much fun to write with you, darling 💋 Hope you all enjoy!

Mommy… Master List

Requests & Prompt-List

Warnings: NSFW, 18+!!!, sex pollen, smut, angst, drugging, gagging, kissing, fighting, tension, fingering, eating out, mentioned masturbation, face sitting, feeling confessions, etc.

Enjoy (;

A new school year at Nevermore always brought a new wave of student drama. You were the botany professor, having specialized in magical herbs & plants as well as herbology history. For the most part, you greatly enjoyed your job. You spent most of your time in lessons and then grading papers. But this year had brought an interesting love triangle of student drama…

Morticia Frump, Gomez Addams, & Larissa Weems…

You found Morticia to be an average student, although by no means was she an average teenager… Not fully devoted to her work, but certainly not dumb. She was polite for the most part, and quite the socialite. And she most definitely had a darker, cruel streak in her at times, especially towards other students…

Gomez was a harmless fly. His sights were on Morticia and Morticia only. The only mean bone in his body was when someone threatened his hold over Morticia. You didn’t pick on him in class or anything, because he’d genuinely not be paying attention.

And then there was Larissa Weems. She was also an odd ball… (I mean for a school of outcasts, you wouldn’t expect any less…) But Larissa was different. She was a strict rule follower. She was obedient, reserved, a people pleaser. She also had the occasional attention seeking streak, although with her appearance, the poor girl couldn’t really help it…

And boy how the three of them could divert a lesson… At one point, you were discussing how the Black Death was actually spread by flower pollen (hence the flower, The Black Death) instead of rats, and the next, Gomez and Larissa are in a screaming match. Standing up from their chairs, Larissa berating Gomez for all his PDA violations with Morticia, and Gomez going loco right back at the blonde. And poor Morticia was caught in the middle of it.

You did your best to settle and diffuse all arguments, but lately they were getting more and more out of hand… It came to a point where you had to have conversations with each of the three. And even that didn’t stop the insistent fighting.

So in you’re moment of need, you turned to the Principal. Who disgusted you. He was a sexist prick whom you avoided at all costs. But the ends in this case had to justify the means. This feud needed to be settled. After having a chat with the Principal, the three were called into his office. You stood in the corner, watching the events unfold in front of you. Of course, he blamed it all on Larissa and Morticia…”Morticia Frump was an attention seeking slut who only caused trouble” and “Larissa Weems was an ungrateful brat who was constantly stepping out of line.” Of course, he didn't use those exact words, but he was pretty damn close…

It boiled your blood. And ended up solving nothing. Although the encounter wasn’t entirely useles… During the meeting, you picked up the amount of longing glances Larissa threw Morticia. And the amount of flickering glances that Morticia sent back. The blushes the two girls held towards each other. The scowl Larissa held for Gomez. The look of sadness Morticia held for Gomez. This put things in a new perspective: Morticia wanted Larissa as much as Larissa wanted Morticia. It all made sense now.

But neither of the two would do anything about it. Not Morticia with her strict upbringing and expectations. And not Larissa with her tendency to either be extremely shy or just straight up fight with Gomez and miss the point entirely. No, you decided that you had to do something. And this case, the ends most definitely and absolutely justified the means.

~~~

Truthfully, Larissa hated when Gomez Addams would walk Tish back to the dorm. It shouldn’t be him, no, it should be her. But every night before curfew she would watch the raven haired goddess kiss the young boys cheek in thanks and bid him good night. It was the same routine every day. Larissa’s keen eye and observation skills meant she was always hyper aware of the way Gomez flirted with her roommate, in the halls they would walk and in hand while she walked behind drowning in jealousy.

Gomez wasn’t keen on Larissa that much was clear, he would always up his flirting or adopt a more possessive hold on Morticia whenever they were with Larissa. Larissa and Gomez always found something to bicker over and it often left the raven haired girl stuck in the middle of them. On one hand she desired to run with Larissa and risk everything to finally act on her true desire. On the other hand she wanted to keep her distance from the blonde in order to not hurt her and please her family. They expected children and Gomez was a pure candidate for her affections in their eyes. Yet with every passing day she found herself ready to risk everything and follow her heart. To end the constant bickering. But someone was going to get hurt and either way she would be affected by that hurt. Larissa pined for Morticia, she wasn’t interested in anyone else but her but always assumed she was too busy with Gomez to even notice, little did Larissa know just how much Morticia noticed and wished for the same. Fear of rejection from her family holding her back.

“You don’t have to constantly thrust your relationship down others throats Gomez!” The blonde practically screamed, her eyes blazing with anger and longing for the girl who didn’t want her. “It’s not my fault you’re jealous, maybe you shouldn’t be trying to take my girl” he snarled back. When Tish wasn’t around this is all that occurred, outside classes were worse because no one could stop them. “You treat her as if she’s an object. A prize. A goal post for you to score in” Larissa couldn’t stand that idea, she was beautiful inside and out and deserved to be cherished as such. Not some object or trophy wife for some dumb guy.

~~~

On the appointed day, you called the two young women into your office. You explicitly stated they come without Gomez. You prepared for their arrival and the action of your plan by brewing a very special tea from leaves that you had grown in your private herb garden. They were an ambrosiac. You knew it wasn’t the 100% morally correct action, but you had had it up to here with Morticia and Larissa dancing around each other. And with a little help from a friend of yours in England, who had given you a strong love sensing potion, you dosed their teas. You used black tea as the base, as nothing could penetrate its strong flavor.

Larissa was the first to arrive, punctual as always. You kindly told her to have a seat. She did so, and you could tell that she was nervous. She probably thought she was in trouble… A few minutes late, and a tad late as usual, Morticia burst.

“Sorry I’m late, Professor…!” Morticia frantically apologized, ��I got hung up in the hallway and couldn’t get away…”

At this, Larissa scoffed in annoyance. Morticia went immediately silent. You chose to ignore todays drama and just went forward into your business.

“Please sit, dear.” You told the raven haired teen.

When both girls were sat, you began. You poured some teas for the both of them.

“Please have some tea. It’s a relaxant and calming brew, one I made myself.” You urged the two.

They followed your instructions without a further thought.

“So,” you took a deep breath and began, “As of late, I have noticed things getting quite heated between the two of you and Mr. Addams… I brought you to hear to reason with you and ask you both to put this childish nonsense behind you...”

You knew they wouldn’t be listening to your words, rather to enveloped in each others presences. But you lectured the two women for a solid twenty to thirty minutes, just to make sure the tea would have time to set in, before you released them.

~~~

Larissa immediately headed back to Ophelia hall knowing Morticia would go to find Gomez. After all, it was expected of her. That didn’t mean it didn’t hurt. Being put in her place in the meeting was weighing heavy on her mind, had they really been that noticeable? Had she? She could try to tone down her annoyance towards Gomez but truthfully she thought that everyone was obviously not noticing her situation until now. It would be hard to watch the girl who held her heart with him but she would have to suffer in silence. It’s true what people say, nothing can break like the heart can.

It started as a niggly pain, one that was more of a hindrance than painful. But it seemingly worsened as time went on. The blonde decided to give up on her homework, concentrating was becoming increasingly difficult due to the pain, so she settled on her bed curled up in her favorite blanket just willing the sensation to leave her.

About five minutes later, Morticia entered the room looking to be in the same state as the blonde teen. “Larissa? You feel it too?” She gasped and the blonde withered and whimpered a yes. Neither girl knew what it was or why it was happening but they guessed you’d put something in the tea. Maybe that’s why you didn’t drink any, now they come to think of it.

~~~

“It must be some kind of ambrosiac…” Larissa whimpered in pain from the heat waves shocking her body.

Morticia collapsed on her own bed.

“Ambrosiac? Wait you mean like some ‘sex drug’ shit??”

“Must you be so crass…??” Larissa groaned, “And yes, I do indeed mean something like a ‘sex drug’...”

Morticia chuckled lightly, but stopped quickly as she keeled over in more intense pain.

“We will be miserable like this for days if we’re unlucky, unless—” Larissa began.

“No.” Morticia groaned, “I can’t.”

“I can’t live like this…” Larissa whimpered.

“Then go fuck yourself…!” Morticia hissed.

“That won’t work… It has to be another person…” Larissa whined.

Morticia let out a lengthy groan towards the blonde, sending shivers down Larissa’s spine. Silence ensued, while the tension built. Larissa was the one to break the silence…

“Please…” She quietly whimpered, a tear falling from her eye.

At this, Morticia suddenly got up from her bed.

“I can’t! I can’t!” She exclaimed, going into a ramble, “I’ll… I’ll just go to Gomez… Yes, He’ll fix it…”

But as Morticia went to the door, Larissa spoke softly, “It… It has to be with a person who will make you climax…”

At this, Morticia turned around to face Larissa who was now cradling herself on the edge of her bed.

“I’m sorry, are you implying that Gomez does not?!” She furiously exclaimed.

“Maybe I am…!” Larissa seethed, standing up to tower over Morticia.

“Oh you’re so full of it!!” Morticia yelled.

“No!! I just like you..!!!” Larissa yelled back, not registering the words coming out of her mouth.

Truthfully, Morticia had known this. But Larissa saying the words to her… It suddenly made everything real.

Before Larissa could process anything else, Morticia had smashed her lips onto the blonde’s plump, red ones.

~~~

Larissa whimpered desperately into the kiss.

Suddenly Morticia pulled away. Her eyes were frantic. She didn’t know what to do. But one more whine from Larissa’s lips had Morticia rolling her eyes and gripping the blondes chin tightly.

“Shut up.” The raven haired teen growled, “Or I’ll gag you…”

The blonde went silent after that, happily allowing Morticia to ravage and explore her lips once more. At one point, the raven haired teen bit down on the blonde's lips, eliciting a gasp from Larissa. This gave Morticia the perfect chance to slip her tongue inside the wet cavern of those plump, red lips. She drew blood, making both girls moan.

“Please… I can’t take it anymore…” Larissa whimpered into the kiss.

Morticia pulled away with a groan.

“Take off your knickers.” She simply said.

“I… what… ok.” Larissa whimpered, but was quick to follow Morticia’s words.

With her knickers in hand, Morticia took them and stuffed them into the blondes mouth.

At this, Larissa thought she would just keel over in pleasure. God this girl was hot…

“I told you, If you whined again, I would gag you.” Morticia sternly stated.

Morticia’s own breath was getting erratic and uneven…

“You want me…?” She breathlessly growled.

The blonde nodded vigorously and desperately, a muffled ‘yes’ being slightly heard through the gag.

“Strip.”

Larissa’s eyes widened and she scurried to remove all articles of clothing, Morticia did the same thing right alongside the blonde. And as the two stared at each others naked forms, all resolve broke.

Each one was all over the other. Kisses. Markings. Sensual touches. Frantic touches.

At one point, Morticia pushed Larissa back onto her bed, and she crawled on top of the blonde, nipping at her skin along the way. Larissa’s eyes showed urgency and need as her mewls and cries were muffled by her knickers.

The blonde was quick to open her legs for Morticia, who graciously accepted the offer of access, bringing her hot mouth immediately to Larissa’s clit. Larissa’s hands fisted the sheets and her creamy thighs were quick to shut around Morticia’s head, and in any other circumstance, Morticia would have cared, but not today. As her mouth worked the blonde’s clit, Morticia brought her fingers through the blonde's folds, making Larissa shudder in pleasure and buck her hips sloppily. And when Morticia slid two of her fingers into the blondes heat… Larissa thought she’d come right then and there.

The raven haired teen worked the blonde up with skill and dedication. There was no time for foreplay or teasing right now. The combination of Morticia’s tongue and fingers sent Larissa spiraling over the edge. Morticia eagerly drank all of Larissa’s juices, as her walls clenched deliciously around Morticia’s fingers and her screams were sinfully muffled by her own knickers. But as Morticia moved her head back up and went to pull her fingers out of the blondes soaking heat, Larissa interrupted her with strangled cries. Morticia removed the gag to hear what the blonde needed to say so desperately.

“Please Tish please don’t stop please Tish…!!” The blonde moaned out, bucking her hips up to sloppily meet Morticia’s fingers.

The raven haired teen smiled wickedly at the blonde.

“Haven’t had enough, have we…?” She lustfully taunted.

“No please need more, need more so badly…!!!” Larissa cried out.

At the blonde's plea, Morticia brought her tongue down to Larissa’s aching cunt. Larissa’s eyes rolled back as the raven haired goddess entered her throbbing hole with her tongue. Morticia proceeded to tongue fuck the blonde to high heaven, and all Larissa could do was try and stifle her screams of pleasure. Her next orgasm came out of nowhere and hit her like a brick.

“Tish I… I…FUCK—!!!” Larissa cried out, her head violently thrown back and her back arched, as her walls squirted and clenched around the raven haired goddesses tongue.

Morticia worked Larissa through her high with ease, and she came back up into the blondes view with her cum all over her face. The raven haired teen then connected her lips to the blondes, making Larissa moan into the kiss at the taste of herself. Both girls pulled away breathless from the heated kiss. Larissa’s red lipstick smeared all over both of their faces

“Be a good girl and let me sit on your face…” Morticia husked.

Larissa’s eyes widened and she nodded eagerly at this proposition. Morticia was quick to straddle the blonde and scurry up against the headboard, hovering her throbbing cunt above Larissa’s hot mouth. Larissa’s hands gripped Morticia’s thighs and guided her glistening core eagerly down to her lips. As Larissa licked through the raven haired goddesses folds, Morticia was quick to stabilize herself on the headboard as she started to rock her hips against the blondes face.

“OHhhHhHHh Fuck—Right there…!” Morticia moaned, only egging the blonde on even more.

Morticia came almost as fast as Larissa had, crying out the blonde's name on repeat. But Larissa wasn’t ready to stop there. No, she brought Morticia over the edge again with that skilled tongue of hers, lapping away at her walls as they clenched around the blondes tongue.

After which, the raven haired teen then collapsed next to the blonde, panting heavily.

~~~

Instinctively the two teens shuffled closer to one another, seemingly seeking the comfort they’d denied themselves of for so long. The steady beating of Morticia’s heart as she regulated her breathing was easily lulling the blonde into a fuzzy mindset. The pain is now satisfied but the raven haired girl feels guilty. How could something that’s meant to be wrong feel so good?

Unknowingly Mortica let a few stray tears fall. One taste of Larissa and now she couldn’t imagine not ever having her again. But there was Gomez to consider. “Tish?” The blonde mumbled and came up gently, swiping the tears away, “are you okay? I’m sorry if you didn’t want-“ Mortica cut her off with a kiss. “I want you, I always have. You were perfect and are perfect. But they want me with Gomez. I don’t know what to do. I want you but they say it’s bad and that I have to marry a man to have children and marry up” her little rant filled with a sniffle. “We can take it slow” the blonde stated which seemed to ease the other teens worries. And that’s exactly what they did, just with more “sleepovers” where they’d fall asleep wrapped up in eachothers arms.

~~~

Larissa Weems Masterlist

Morticia Addams Masterlist

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saintship · 10 months

Note

could I request a florist!könig x reader?? I don't even know how this would go, but I like the idea of him being absolutely enthralled in plants and bugs as a kid. lil dude would know anything and everything about flowers, because he'd bring back random assortments of wildflowers and foliage back to his grandmother after a day of wandering around the woods and playing pretend, and she'd buy him a big book about flowers one day because she thought it was adorable.

was thinking reader could be a regular, because she likes having fresh bouquets around her workplace/at home/to give as gifts? she knows quite a bit about flowers and their meanings (though, it pales in comparison to what könig knows- i don't think anyone could ever compete), and she's just head over heels for whatever whack ass/gorgeous assortment he comes up with for her.

who knows, maybe our lil köni finally musters up some courage one day and throws in a free bouquet for her? 👀

Ancient draft. Cobwebs. Please forgive me this request is magical

*Some real places are mentioned but the floral shop is fictional ALSO if my German is bad feel free to correct me and I can make the edit, thank you!

Daffodils - König x reader

Salzburg wasn’t the city you were born in, but it might as well have been. You’d found a peace there; the summer rain, snowy winters, and captivating architecture being just a few wonders of the city.

Hotel Altstadt was where you made a living, tucked inside a busy plaza where the young children could never seem to sit still. A dozen or so steps across from the hotel was a small floral and plant nursery.

Königs Blumen un Pflanzengärtnerei, a shop that had grown popular since it opened its doors for travelers and tourists. The shop was beautiful, inside and out, with creeping vines and a wonderful twinkling filling the room each time the door opened. The brass bell responsible was entwined with a long sprig of lavender, which carried its smell to greet newcomers. Shelves of live, flowering plants lined the walls, some of which you couldn’t name, while in the center, a calm fountain bubbled around several ferns and tall lilies. The piece would block the register entirely if it weren’t for the owner’s height—he had to be more than 6’5’’, with generous muscle accompanying his stature and a head of auburn waves that brushed his ears before tapering off. He always wore a black fabric mask with floral detailing. Beautiful, but you always wondered why he did so.

The reason you were lucky enough to familiarize with him was the honeymoon couples of the hotel—you were often tasked with picking up entryway bouquets and treated rose petals for the bedspreads, and protected that position with your life. Today was the day you gathered enough courage to strike up a non-professional conversation with the man you’d been admiring for some time.

A breeze slanted through the alleys and roadways, providing some relief from the warm weather. You made your way across the plaza with your delivery cart as usual, thanking a young girl who held open the shop door for you. You walked inside, glancing into the fountain where coins glittered below the wavering surface.

“Good morning, König.” You sidled up to the counter, offering him a smile.

“Morgen! Here for the roses again?” He replied brightly, leaning down to reach for the package of white and red roses used for romantic suites.

“Yes, thank you..” your heart pounded as you received the first package, not missing how your fingers grazed his hand.

“I’m sure you grow a lot of these, huh?”

You managed to spit it out; a simple invitation to a real conversation.

“Yes..but it is not often I’m bored.” König remarked, handing over another package. “I enjoy the white ones especially.”

You gazed at the flower he’d pointed out, nearly getting distracted before quickly stowing it away and reaching for the next.

“Eternal love, right?”

König looked up, blinking.

“The meaning, I mean. Of-of white roses?”

Oh my god, kill me.

“Oh, yes! I have heard that perspective..though I always thought the classic meaning was most accurate; youthfulness.” He paused, holding onto the third package to study it. “So—young love, then.” He looked up, and you felt as though the earth fell around you. You took the last box, setting it down carefully.

“What other meanings do you know?” It didn’t matter that you knew many already, you just couldn’t drag yourself away from him.

“Quite a few..” he looked off a bit, thinking. “What’s your favorite flower?”

You felt a twinge of warmth at your cheeks. “Daffodils.. daffodils are my favorite. I like adorning flowers too, like baby’s breath and lily of the valley.”

He blinked, pleasant surprise flashing over his gaze. “Are you a florist?”

“I make arrangements for my friends sometimes—so, freelance?”

He laughed a bit. “Keep it down, I need business.”

You smiled in return. “Every good business has a partner, no?”

You don’t know where this banter was coming from, but decided to seize the confidence while it was there.

“I suppose you’re right.” König conceded, then studied you for a moment. “You already know what daffodils represent, don’t you?”

You don’t reply for a moment, seemingly forgetting how to form a sentence, before your phone goes off.

“Sorry..hello?” You turn, holding the phone to your ear. “Right..okay. Be right there.” You click to end the call, grasping your cart. “I’ve got to go. Nice talking to you..”

You steer back into the plaza, letting a deep breath free itself from your chest. Your hammering heart only frustrated you further, shaking your head and getting back to to work.

It was a notable stretch of time before your job drove you back to König's shop; lord knows you weren't going to wander in there on your own volition. The thought of him started to make your heart flip over, and it was close to nauseating. When you did, you saw something near the door that caught your eye. Abandoning your cart, you approached the small display table arranged to the side. You usually had trouble with written German as opposed to spoken, but the label was straightforward. "Blume des Monats". Flower of the month. It was an arrangement nestled in a small ceramic vase, the dominating flower being--the daffodils.

"You inspired me."

König's voice behind you made you turn, nearly spraining your neck from surprise. "I did?"

He was wearing a button down today, the sleeves hiding his hyacinth tattoo.

"You did. The adorning pieces, too. I find yellow and white fit nicely together for a light summer arrangement, both their looks and etymology."

You turn back, confirming the appearance of the baby's breath that framed the yellow flowers. "I agree."

König stepped up so he was standing beside you, looking at the arrangement as well. "I have to tell you, uh.. while I was arranging this, I wasn't imagining it to be displayed."

You look up at him, blinking. "No?"

He seemed to avoid your eyes. "No." he shifted his weight, glancing at the floor. The sight of a relatively intimidating man shifting on his feet was, admittedly, endearing. Still, the warmth in the tips of your ears irritated you to no end.

"I was going to uh..give it to you. Because I thought you'd like it. And then I was going to ask you on a date."

You smile to yourself, looking at your shoes. "I wish you would have."

You felt his eyes on you. "Truly?"

You nod, meeting his eyes. Suddenly, your nervous energy melted ever so slightly into a comfortable sort of understanding.

"Well, uh.." König took the arrangement by the stems, the water dripping as he held it in front of him. You couldn't help but laugh gently at his tenacity.

"Your floors-"

"Could I take you on a date sometime?"

"I--yes, just, oh your shoes.." you take the hand he holds the flowers with, setting them gently back in their place. You can only see his eyes, but they seem to be smiling.

"Wonderful. I'll have another when I pick you up."

"Oh, that's not-"

"With orchids."

You blink, his proximity suddenly clouding your awareness.

"Oh."

His eyes seem to tilt with another smile.

"I think you know their meaning."

#cod requests #call of duty modern warfare #call of duty #cod mw2 #cod mwii #könig call of duty #könig mw2 #könig x reader #könig cod #könig modern warfare #könig fanfiction

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star-girl69 · 1 year

Text

Ultraviolence

Natalie Scatorccio x Fem!Reader

—-

a/n: i LOOVVVEEE natalie i had to so i hope you all enjoy!!

also- send me a private message, an ask, or leave a comment if you want to be apart of the taglist!

warnings: mentions of blood and death, swearing, tell me if i missed anything!!

Chapter One - Deadly Nightshade

—-

Growing up with a botanist for a mother, you were used to the smell of dirt, to the feel of leaves on your skin. Unwillingly, names and characteristics of every plant in your mother’s greenhouse had been drilled into your brain since childhood.

But, there was this sort of magic that surrounded deadly nightshade. Atropa belladonna, or deadly nightshade, is a toxic plant you can draw from memory. There’s just something so magical about the mirror-black berries, the soft green stems and leaves. Like there’s been this sheen covering the plant every since your childhood. Your eyes are drawn to it.

It’s just this small plant, that sprouts these beautiful berries. It is seemingly safe- harmless. When you let your guard down and pop that berry into your mouth, feel it explode between your teeth, and that is when the poison starts. It’s been weaved into the fabric of the known world- used in stories, warned about in cautionary tales.

You’ve always felt this kinship with that plant, like you came from the same place, learned your lessons from the same teachers.

You are deadly and you are nightshade. You are a botanist’s daughter, an aspiring journalist, and a student at Wiskayok High School.

—-

1996-

Everyone was shouting and screaming. Not only the players on the team, but the crowd who has gathered to watch, cheering and yelling and whistling.

“Allie! Allie, Allie!” one of them shouted, trying to get the ball from her. You looked up from your notebook, watching as the girl in question- Allie, Number Eleven- tried to maneuver past a girl from the opposing team. But, she was still a freshman, still had so much to learn, so the other team took the ball.

You sighed, heavily. Sports weren’t the most fascinating thing in the world, but as a member of the school paper, you had been assigned to track their progress all season. Everyone had known from the beginning that these were the type of girls who were going to win. They were champions. They were going to nationals.

You’d found yourself becoming emotionally invested in the team, feeling sad when they lost, happy when they won. But something about the way the girls just moved together, the way they were interconnected- not only was it a way to spend your day, work your way up the school paper hierarchy- but something fun to watch.

Another girl, her curly brown hair pulled back by a bandana- Taissa, Number Eight- shot forward with more determination that ever. Like a bullet, set on her target, she whizzed through the air- a straight shot, the line came to you. You struggled to both write that down and pay attention to the game. Soon enough, the ball was back into the Yellowjacket’s feet.

An uptick in the cheering. Another note in your notebook.

Taissa passed it to Shauna, Number Six, who got it around a small cluster of the other team. The white and black of the ball barely visible through the red of the other team. After a moment of bated breath, she passes the ball back to Taissa, safely around the swarm of red jerseys.

Parts of soccer felt like just a fight for the ball. Like the ball was already the trophy, and they had to keep it safe from anyone who would try to steal it.

“Tai! Tai!” Jackie, Number Nine, shouted. Taissa glanced upwards, waited until Jackie had ran forward enough, then kicked the ball with such a ferocity that you could barely see it arc through the air.

Finally, it met it’s mark, and collided with Jackie’s head.

You could hear a few gasps, but this was all apart of the plan.

Besides, the gasps turned into cheers when the ball rolled past the goalie, safely delivered into the net. They had kept the trophy. And they were going to nationals.

—-

2021-

“Have a nice day!”

The smile was fake. The voice was too. But the customer gave you a tight-lipped smile back, muttering “you too”, before grabbing her bags and hurrying off.

You wanted to take your break, sit down and rest your aching ankle for just a moment, but there was one more customer in your line.

The grocery store was a boring job. It was a Whole Foods, on the outskirts of New York City, just a few blocks away from your apartment.

After the plane crash, you tried to go back to your hometown. You tried to be close to the trees and the grass. But you found that you couldn’t. A second too long, a moment that you spent thinking, and suddenly it was the wilderness again.

Suddenly, your backyard was full of pits with spikes, tree stumps, and so, so much blood.

Two minutes too long in Central Park- and suddenly you were trapped in the forest again, a burning plane next to you, and screaming all around.

“Good morning,” the woman smiled. She set a chocolate candy bar on the conveyor belt, and you smiled and reached over to grab it.

“Good morning. Did you find everything okay today?”

The woman nods and makes a “mhm” sound. You can feel her eyes on you, and it’s no surprise when she says-

“Are you Y/N L/N?”

Sometimes, someone obsessed with the plane crash will find you. They’ll come to your house, to your job, and you tell them the same thing you told the reporters. They always seem so sad. They always think they were the first person to find you, to ask you.

So, you pat their back and say you wish you could tell them more- but all you did was scavenge and starve. And to the world, that’s all you did. But the ones that are left know the truth.

“Yes,” you say, trying to keep the polite smile on your face. You scan the chocolate bar. “Will that be all?”

“I’m Jessica Roberts. Star-Ledger.” She almost seems a little- apologetic. Sheepish, but this is the act they all put on, their little journalist show, that they all forget you know as well. “I wanted to call you, but you don’t seem to have a number, hm?”

“I’m not interested in talking to anyone. There’s books and magazines and newspapers, please just look at those. Now, will that be all?”

You place the chocolate bar in front of her with perhaps more force than is necessary. She glances down at it.

She has tan, dark skin, and short curly black hair. She’s quite pretty, but you’ve developed a distaste for reporters and journalists.

“Y/N-”

“I’m very sorry I can’t help you with that. Will you be paying with cash or card?”

She sighs, and digs through the pocket of her green jacket, taking out a brown wallet. She starts to take out a five dollar bill, but stops. She looks up, and her eyes meet yours.

“I don’t need help, Y/N. I’m looking to help you.”

You flipped the light switch on your station, showing that you were closed. You looked back down at the money, waiting for it expectantly. They were usually this persistent, but something about this woman made you want to get away.

“I know you’ve been letting other people tell your story. People who barely knew you. And they’re making a lot of money doing it.”

“I’m doing fine with money, thank you, besides for the $2.25 you owe right now.”

She smiles. “Five minutes.”

“$2.25.”

“If you don’t like what I have to say, then I’ll leave you alone. Promise.”

You sigh, and your look out the window, spotting the planter tree in the sidewalk.

It starts to twist. The bark turns darker. The branches start to move in odd ways, odd ways that can’t be explain by the wind. The darker bark can’t be explain by a shadow or a cloud.

The wilderness is in you. And sometimes it comes out.

Before you know what you’re doing, you’ve grabbed the money from her hand, pressed the cash button the screen, and dumped her change into her awaiting hand.

You look up at her slightly shocked face, but she recovers quickly.

“Alright. I get it. But think about it.” She produces a card from her other pocket. “Call me if you change your mind.”

“Have a nice day!” you say through gritted teeth.

She smiles.

And when you look over, the tree on the sidewalk looks how it did before. The wilderness is gone, for now, but it always comes back.

—-

1996-

The locker room is alight with a sort of electricity. A song plays through a small speaker, and Shauna primps her hair, while Taissa ties her shoes, completing the uniform.

With nationals comes a lot of recognition. The pep rally today is for them, not some stupid football team. You think back snarkily to Gordon River, the journalist who covers the Wiskayok football team, and how pissed off he must be.

“Hey, yeah!” the song rings out. “I want to shoop, baby!”

The girls start to join in, singing along with bright smiles borne from what can only be victory.

“Girls, what’s my weakness?”

“Men!” they all shout, and you smile as you look over your notes from the game, thinking already about how to weave it all into a story.

“Okay then, chillin’, chillin’, minding my business- Yo, Salt, I looked around and I couldn’t believe this- I swear, I stares, my niece my witness- The brother had it goin’ on with somethin’ kind of uh- Wicked, wicked, had to kick it-”

You look up at the girls in front of you, Lottie dancing off around you, watching Taissa, Natalie, Shauna, and Laura Lee sing to each other.

You smile and walk off, hearing the song end and the girls all erupt into shouts and cheers. You turn the corner, bringing your notebook to your chest, watching Van and Lottie stare at themselves in the mirror.

“Does someone wanna tell Kelly Kapowski to maybe worry less about prom and more about not fucking up nationals?” Lottie asks, fluffing up her hair while Van makes a mustache with a piece of her ponytail.

Taissa moves around you, leaning in front of the mirror to fix her own hair.

“Oh, come on,” she says.

“If she plays like she did at states…” Lottie continues.

“Don’t worry,” Taissa says, standing up and crossing her hands. The girls in the mirror all look to her. “That’s not gonna happen.”

Then, she simply walks off.

—-

“Hey, Misty,” you smile, coming to stand next to her. The boys portion of the pep rally is ending, the speaker encouraging everyone to clap- but that’s not why this crowd is here.

“Hi!” she says, her blonde curls bouncing, smiling wide.

The crowd claps sparsely, and the boys all stand there looking rather awkwardly.

Misty was- something. You weren’t really sure what she officially did, but she supported the team with her entire heart. The boys slowly filed off of the gym floor.

“Now, our next act needs so introduction.” Misty started bouncing on the balls of her feet. “So let’s all just make some noise for your New Jersey State Girls’ Soccer Champions!”

You tucked your notebook to your chest so you could clap, while Misty kept bouncing and then shouting and cheering louder then anyone else. You smiled a little bit, admiring her dedication and enthusiasm.

The girls ran out onto the gym floor, and you took mental notes of how much louder and happier the crowd was. Even the mascot of the school came out, a cartoonish bee, encouraging the crowd to cheer louder, more.

Misty started chanting “buzz, buzz, buzz!” Which was the official chant of the team. They were called the Yellowjackets, so bees and buzzing made sense.

The girls all filed into a line, some clapping, some smiling- some more genuine then others- but all of them basking in the glory of victory. It was a good look, you had to admit. The title of your small little column on the paper came to you now-

Yellowjackets: Burning Bright in Victory

—-

#yellowjackets #yellowjackets x reader #natalie scatorccio #natalie scatorccio x reader

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metallicaislife · 6 months

Text

The Photographer and the Guitarist pt 2

The Photographer and the Guitarist

Requested by: Anon

Genre: 18+ smut and fluff minors dni

Word Count: 1,007

Warnings: Phone sex, mutual masturbation over the phone, p in v sex

After the tour was over, I was afraid the magic of what Kirk and I shared would disappear. Turns out I had nothing to fret about.

Kirk and I went on a couple real dates, then we decided to be an exclusive couple.

We made it work even while Metallica wasn’t touring, and I had gigs with other bands.

Kirk and I were laying in bed together cuddling. Tomorrow morning I’d be going on tour with Megadeath.

“Look, Dave can be charming. Please don’t get road goggles. Don’t fall for him, or in his bed” Kirk pleaded as he rubbed soft circles on my back.

“Kirk, I only have eyes for you. I won’t tell you I’m a saint and hadn’t hooked up on the road before, but you’re the only one who’s stolen my heart.” I assured him as I stroked his face with my thumb. Kirk nuzzled into my touch. I leaned forward, placing a soft kiss on his lips. He wrapped his arms around me tightly and rolled us over so he was on top of me.

“I love you.” He said, his eyes pierced my soul, as his words pierced my heart.

“I love you.” I replied, bringing his lips back to mine.

During the tour I called Kirk every night, I was lucky enough to get a single room every stop on this tour.

“What are you wearing?” I asked playfully as I leaned against the headboard.

“My boxers. What are you wearing?” He asked me.

“Your favorite black lace panties.” I answered him. I could hear him take a sharp inhale.

“And?” He questioned.

“Nothing.” I replied as I traced soft circles on my nipple.

“Mmm. I want to touch you so bad.” He said.

“You can’t, but I can.” I replied as my hand trailed down reaching under my panties. I started rubbing my clit in slow circles. I could hear Kirk pull his cock out, he began stroking it. I slipped two fingers into my pussy.

“Fucking yourself, thinking and wishing it was my cock?” He asked, his breath growing labored.

“Yes. Can’t fill myself up like you do.” I replied. I picked up the speed of my fingers before pulling them out to rub my clit.

“I wanna see you split open on my cock. Taking it like such a good girl.” Kirk said. I moaned as I came.

“I want to ride you. Make you feel so good you see stars.” I told him. Kirk groaned and came.

“I miss you.” I said after I caught my breath.

“I miss you too, baby. Not much longer though. You’re halfway done.” He said.

“I know, it’ll hopefully go by quickly.�� I answered.

“I hope so too.” He replied.

“I’m sleepy, so I’m going to bed. I love you, talk to you tomorrow.” I said.

“Sweet dreams, love you.” He said. I hung up the phone and fell asleep.

I was finally at the end of the tour. It was the last show. I was doing my thing and taking photographs, it was the last song of the night and a pair of arms snaked around my middle. I jumped trying to escape the grasp. Then I heard a familiar chuckle. I turned my head and Kirk was smiling at me. I shifted in his arms so I could hug him tightly.

“Oh my god, Kirk!” I squealed. He held me tightly. I lifted my head and captured his lips in a passionate kiss.

“I’m so happy to see you but I have to keep snapping pictures.” I gushed.

“You do your thing, it’s hot by the way. The way you concentrate so hard.” He winked. My cheeks heated as I did my best to focus on catching snapshots of the band. The show ended and they came out for an encore.

After they finished, Kirk went backstage with me so I could gather my things.

“Kirk Hammett? At my show?” Dave said as he spotted us.

“Actually I’m here for the photographer.” Kirk pointed at me. Dave looked confused.

“Well, if my services aren’t needed anymore I’m going back to the hotel.” I waved and grabbed Kirk’s hand.

I practically dragged Kirk to the hotel. When we got to my room I pinned him to the door as it closed. I wrapped my arms around him tightly. He leaned down kissing me hard. Our clothes flew on the way to the bed. He sat in the middle of the bed. I situated myself to sit on his lap, I began riding him as we sloppily made out.

“Fuck I missed this so much.” I said and dug my fingers into his shoulder.

“Me too, so much.” Kirk said.

My legs started to ache but I kept going. Kirk reached down and started rubbing my clit. I let out a satisfying scream as I came, I could never make myself feel as good as Kirk does. I couldn’t move anymore. Kirk held me as he laid me down. He thrust his hips into me hard until he reached his high. He leaned his forehead against my shoulder, kissing it softly.

“How much would it cost for you to be Metallica’s full time photographer?” Kirk asked as I played with his hair.

“I don’t know, but the offer sounds intriguing.” I giggled.

“I don’t want to spend this much time away from you again.” He said, perching his chin on my chest so he could look up at me.

“We’ll figure something out.” I promised.

“The guys are already on board, just so you know.” He said. I grinned at him.

“I’ll consider it.” I told him. He grinned back at me and leaned up, capturing my lips with his. His hips slowly started to roll again.

“Mm you’re not leaving this bed until morning.” He said, kissing my neck. I giggled.

“Sounds good to me.” I replied, running my hands down his back.

If I only photograph Metallica for the rest of my career, it would be totally worthwhile.

Thank you for reading! Feel free to request or chat :)

-Isa

#metallica x reader #metallica #metallica imagines #metallica scenarios #kirk hammett x reader #kirk hammett #metallica smut #kirk hammett smut

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guesst · 20 days

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MANHWA REC LIST PART 3 courtesy of @ihavenobigbrain

have tried my best to put in all the nice platonic manhwas i’ve read! theres still a bunch of romance but fun and games and lightheartedness is the main focus of these for sure 🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️

first of all i will rec the obvious and popular ones so they dont get missed becuse they are Popular for a Good Reason:

the s classes that i raised (super good, ive read the novel mostly but the manhwa is JUST as great. mc is collecting people like pokemon)

trash of the counts family (amazing art, little dragon child, mc is collecting people like pokemon)

also gonna plug some ones from the previous rec posts just cus i truly believe they are some of the best non romance manhwa: susu, han; i see you; the tale of goldiluck the black kitten

okay onto the actual recs !

WHEN THE THIRD WHEEL STRIKES BACK

HILARIOUS. genuinely so good, pretty underrated too (in that i havent seen anyone talking about this?) but it has a main character who isekais into a second male lead and decides to stay awayy from the leads — this fails miserably, obviously, and its comical. the misunderstandings, the unlucky run-ins… also the mc is a priest and theres a pretty interesting magic system and worldbuilding!! and as a final bonus the art is nice. genuinely so fun to read, highly recommend

A STEPMOTHER’S MARCHEN

favourite manhwa of all time tbh its the only one ive bought a physical copy of (so far, anyway.. hehe). has a romance sub plot but the characterisations, relationships, plot development etc is exquisite. the family relationship takes precedence here especially in the first few arcs, the characters are REALISTIC, the art is gorgeous…, i love it so so much highly rec if you havent read it already. i guess this doesnt fall as much into light-hearted, because there are quite a lot of heavy moments… but its nicely balanced out with the comedy n all so i’ll put it in anyway :]

SCHOOLMATE FRIEND

super cute! this one is a school romance and it doesnt have many chapters out but its simple and the two mains are adorable. its a nice fluffy read and the artstyle is also lovely.

THE DEMON KING DAD AND HIS HERO DAUGHTER

jdjsjd can you tell how this goes from the title? speaking of which i type it from memory and i cant find the tab i had it open in so it might actually be “his daughter the hero” not “his hero daughter”… not sure. anyway i havent read much of this one but the first few chapters alone had me screaming the dad and his lackey are idiots please read it for him. he loves his daughter but this is backfiring on him so badly djrnfj

^ idiot lackey, everyone

RETURN OF THE WAR GOD

you would assume the war god goes to war! but no. he picks up a little girl and then he’s like. ok mine now. and the rest of the manhwa is spent getting money out of people and living in the woods in his homemade mansion with his daughter and the mamy many sidekicks that they pick up along the way. lovely art, lots of funny moments, plenty of action -- this is a martial arts story -- n the side characters are great (especially the governor lol) .

SCREW THE NOBLE LIFE, I’M GOING HOME

there arent many chapters out for this one (24 i think?) but im so invested already. as it stands this is centred entirely around the isekai’d main character and her new family, there is a heavy dose of angst about identity issues but every chapter has a new misunderstanding and it has me rolling fr ,, oh also the mc’s new brothers are her stepsiblings but they shoot down that romance route really fast and their relationships are so entertaining if it keeps going the way it is this will definitely become a favourite. heres an out of context foot pic

SIGRID

AMAZING TRULY AMAZING the character arcs in this one are so !!! yummy !!! mc time travels n endeavours to correct her actions n save people and in the process makes sm friends and all the characters have depth and grow and theyre all so !!! lovable !!!! the friendships in this one are amazing even without the romance subplot (and also speaking of romance, its a slow burn mainly cus sigrid is as dense as a brick but its NOT frustrating because it actually makes sense for her character!! like im usually the first one to move on from a thick fl but honestly you cant help but cheer them on) its so so good, i love it

THE MEANING OF YOU

this one is an isekai romance with again some lovely character arcs :D the main character is pretty depressive but its also got plenty of light/funny moments to balance it out, and the plot centres around her learning to take care of herself and becoming more confident,, i love the characters a lot ! they care a lot. the romance does get a bit cheesy at times but it really is so wholesome with solid characterisation n its completed too so you have a nice 3am read.

HOW TO BE A DARK HERO’S DAUGHTER

urgh one of the best kid leads ever, plenty of plot and the art is gorgeous as well like its a winner all around okay. as it stands its on an indefinite hiatus (author had cancer and i assume is still recovering or just taking a break for a while) but season one is already completed and its an excellent family centred read with a few mysteries scattered here n there also did i mention the entire family is so yummy. im so gone for the butler fjddjdnndd

MY BROTHERS, THE PROTAGONISTS

simultaenously super funny and somewhat angsty. this is one of those dungeon manhwa but the caveat is each of the mc's brothers has a different trope going on (time travel, became demon king, isekai'd) while mc is a decent potion maker and has to deal with all their bullshit (affectionate). it handles family issues and balances it with comedy perfectly. the main character is really really likeable and you cant help but cheer her on. so far its almost entirely platonic but i spy a few male leads lol

MY CUTE BEAST!!!

romance manhwa again !! fjdmcjf the author of this one looked at all the classic miscommunication and misunderstanding tropes and noped the fuck out its so easy to read because you will NOT stress out and the male lead is so cute also. they play with the typical gender roles so fl has the knight aura while the ml is the damsel. its great and the characterisations are also awesome. big big fan. look him

WEE!!

iirc this is actually either malaysian or indonesian, not korean i think..? its mostly slice of life iirc n its been like.. 2 years since i read it so the humour might be . slightly outdated haha,, the cast is pretty diverse which is cool and there are a few angsty backstory chapters scattered here and there but on the whole it is chock full of shits and giggles if you want silly times. the only caveat is there isnt an official translation afaik so like… fan translation will have to do djfnc

A FREE RIDE EVERYDAY

back to romance ! romance manhua this time, slice pf life office type of thing and its pretty much just fluff. its a cute low stress read for times where u just want to sit down n smile about something and the characters r not thick about everything like they can be in SOME romances fjfnf and also the art is lovely! look at the cover, thats what its like the whole way through.

PURRFECT WORLD

mad underrated djfhdn it’s pretty chill, its a story about a human girl working at a salad restaurant on a planet full of cats. the art is super cute, the cats have jobs and all but they also act like cats and its great dhsks like the owner of the restaurant likes to sit in random cardboard boxes. its been a while since i read it but there is not much romance (if at all??), but plenty of cats and shenanigans. heehee

read it for him !! its also complete and its not particularly long either btw forgor to say

ONI NO KO

this one … i think is a manga actually? in colour?? its about a random oni kid that gets picked up by a high schooler’s family. very very cute art, it’s short and sweet and i will repeat very cute.

look him! hes so small ! he likes baseball!!

BONUS REC which doesnt fit the mood but i think more people should read it: the goldfish osushi. i wont elaborate anymore but its truly… your heart will be touched after it lol

also if anyone has more to add to this list (preferably things u think r underrated !! and no orv because everyone automatically recs that to me and im tired ajfndn) please do i would also like recs. also also if anyone has requests i love making lists

#manhwa #manhwa recs

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insanitybl00m · 2 months

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Tales From Under The Wisteria Tree

Chapter 9 - Apa?

Tallulah showed up from nowhere. And then she called Missa ‘Apa’. Which was adorable but it was also absolutely terrifying.

But he had to admit he missed her. And she looked so grown up now with her fancy dress and shawl.

“So your daughter is a changeling,” Missa whispered in his ear.

How the hell…?

“My son is one too, don’t worry, I can keep her secret safe.”

Philza sighed and smiled at the perfect human staring back at him.

“Hi apa!” Ah. That was still an issue.

“Hello, Tallulah! It’s nice to meet you!” Missa smiled at her.

“What’s your name? Papa gave you mine! I promise it won’t be taken! Pinky promise!”

“Tallulah…” Phil warned. She knew better than to talk about her magic.

“It’s just apa. Besides, I call you Papa Phil!”

“My name is Missa. You can call me Apa Missa.”

Phil’s heart melted as Missa fully accepted the title.

“Great! I’m Tallulah, but you know that. People also call me Lullah! It’s a nickname! You can use that for me too!”

“Tallulah do you want to go grow some flowers? Me and Apa Missa need to talk for a second.”

“I’ll grow the prettiest flowers!” She went and ran off, kicking her boots off in the process, and slowly poppies bloomed in her footsteps.

“She’s adorable.”

“You haven’t seen her be a menace yet.”

“Oh she’s too sweet to be a menace, she’s fine.”

Phil sighed. “Are you ok with her calling you ‘apa’? I know it’s really really sudden for her to basically be calling you her father.”

“I’m more than ok with it. If you don’t feel comfortable, tell me. I’d love to be in her life. I know I’ve barely met her but I mean it when I say she’s adorable.”

Not a hint of a lie, stars above Missa was perfect.

“I’m perfectly ok with it. You’re amazing Missa.” He kissed Missa’s forehead.

“Oh please, and I thought we weren’t using names while in the middle of nowhere.”

“I made an exception.” Phil stood up. “C’mon Tallulah! We’re done talking!”

She ran back over. “I made a bunch of flowers. We should make flower crowns! C’mon Apa Missa, let’s go!” She grabbed Missa and pulled him over to her flowers.

Tallulah’s magic was crazy powerful. She grew a whole garden in five minutes. And every step she took exploded with flowers.

“Apa Missa, your eyes are so pretty! I love the color purple! It’s my favorite!”

“Aw! That’s so sweet Tallulah! You know I like your pretty dress, it suits you well.”

“Papa Phil cmon!” The girl chided. “He’s a slowpoke.” She whisper-yelled to Missa.

“Sometimes he can be.” He responded with a huge grin.

“I can hear you two you know. Troublemakers.”

Tallulah sat down in the center of the spiral of flowers. “Can I take my shawl off Papa? I wanna stretch my wings!”

“Sure Tallulah.”

Wings? Chayanne was a changeling but he didn’t have wings. He had a tail. Maybe there were differences between different changelings.

She took off the black shawl and she had small moth wings. Too small for her size but she fluttered them with glee at the sight of them. They shimmered blue and faded into a deep purple.

“Papa, Tia Niki has been teaching me how to control my magic!”

“That’s great darling.” Phil sat down next to Missa.

“Apa you should make a flower crown with purple flowers! It will match your eyes.” The small girl handed Missa a handful of flowers, all in various shades of purple.

“Thank you, Tallulah.” He tried to copy Phil who seemed to be creating a flower crown with almost no issues. His finger just kept slipping and messing up.

“Here it’s like this.” Phil wrapped the flower stem around another flower and then picked up another flower and repeated the process until he had a small chain.

“Thank you.”

“She loves making flower crowns. I’d be a bad dad if I didn’t learn a few tricks.”

Missa laughed and leaned into Phil.

“Papa, what color did you make yours?”

“Purple.”

“No! I made purple to match with Apa Missa! We can’t all have purple!”

“Why can’t we Tallulah?” Missa asked.

“Because I want to match with you! Not Papa Phil, I already have a matching flower crown back home!”

“We can all match. A new one for the three of us.”

“Oh yeah! That’s true!” Her eyes shone. “I take it back papa! You did a good job!”

Phil smiled at the two of them. “Glad to have the expert's opinion.”

Missa and Tallulah got along great. They laughed and Phil could have sworn he saw Tallulah’s hair turn just a few shades lighter to match Missa’s instead of the pitch black of Niki’s dyed black hair.

Changeling's traits did reflect their caretakers after all.

But when it was time for bed it became an issue. “Did Tia Niki pack you a bedroll?”

“A what?”

“Something to sleep on. So we can start to travel somewhere else tomorrow morning.” Missa explained.

“I have my blanket!”

Phil sighed. “She packed you enough food for a literal feast but not a bedroll?”

“I can sleep on the ground! Moss is comfy anyway.”

“No Tallulah, take mine.” Missa said, moving his bed roll over to the girl.

“But where will you sleep?” She asked.

“I’ll be—“

“I know, we can push them together and make one big bedroll for the three of us.” Missa looked at Phil.

“That’s a great idea, what do you think of that idea Tallulah?”

“Only if I can be next to Apa Missa!” Tallulah latched onto his arm.

“Are you abandoning me for Missa, Tallulah?”

“Yes.” She said, a wicked grin on her face as she smiled at Phil.

He sighed but there was a smile on his face as he moved the bedrolls together.

“Papa, teach Apa how to do my hair!”

“Yes, my princess.”

“I’m not a princess, I’m a queen!”

“I apologize, your highness.” She smiled and sat down. “Her hair is really curly, and it needs to be put in a protective style while she sleeps.”

“Oh, like a bonnet?”

“Yeah, but we put it in a bun first so that it doesn’t bother her while she sleeps.”

“Here’s the hair tie Tia Niki used,” Tallulah said, passing it over her shoulder.

“Thank you.”

“So now we unbraid your hair, right Tallulah?”

“Yeah!” Missa took the braid and started untying the strands. “And then you put it in a big bun!” Phil stopped watching and stepped in to help when Missa started to struggle with getting all her hair in the bun.

“You need to hold her hair like it's a ponytail and then wrap the hair tie around once. Then let go and wrap the rest of her hair around the ponytail and when you’re done wrap the hair tie around the bun.”

“Like this?”

“Perfect! Tallulah, where is the bonnet?”

“Top of my bag.”

Phil went and grabbed the bag, searching through the pockets that were filled with protection charms. Niki really did try her best to protect her. He grabbed the silky fabric.

“Got it!” Phil came and slid the bonnet over Tallulah’s head. She turned around to face Missa.

“Thank you apa!”

“Of course!”

“Alright, it’s time for bed Tallulah,” Phil said, he kissed her forehead.

“Night papa!”

He laid down on the other side of Missa. Tallulah was asleep in seconds, soft snores made that obvious.

“Phil,” Missa whispered.

“Mhm?” He rolled over and faced Missa.

“Thank you for saving me earlier.”

“Of course.”

“Hanging out with Tallulah today was really nice.”

Phil gave him a soft smile. “It really was. You two get along well.”

“I’m glad, you look like you’d burn down the world for her.”

“Oh I would. She’s precious.” Missa laughed and curled into Phil’s side. “But you’re precious too.”

Missa ignored that and chose to try and sleep instead. He wouldn’t turn bright pink if he was asleep.

“Goodnight Wisteria.” Phil lightly kissed the top of Missa’s head before wrapping his wings over the three of them. Missa couldn’t even mumble out a goodnight before he was fast asleep.

#qsmp #pissa nation #pissa #qsmp pissa #pissa au #TFUTWT AU

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godeaterazathoth · 10 months

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Issues I have with ikevamp

That I’m venting here because they won’t leave my skull

*Content warning, we’re talking about men in the past, they did some bad stuff*

Part 1, historical inaccuracies

I’m I history nut so this really gets to me, since I know the deep details of these peoples lives.

The timeline, ok so the game takes place in 18th France, correct me if I’m wrong but I think it is in the second empire (1852-1870) considered there is a noble class, yet you can clearly see the Eiffel Tower which was completed in 1889, there is no mention of the 1889 exposition, so it must be after the tower had become permanent, by then the 3rd republic was around, if we are in the republic the Count wouldn’t be called that by the npcs at all the parties he goes to, no matter which we’re in, NOBODY mentions Napoleon III at, NOT EVAN HIS UNCLE (WHOSE SOMEHOW BECAME CASS CONSCIOUS!)

How does the time travel work, example, Dazai died in 1948, his plan was seemingly to wait until he’s born in 1909 then kill himself as a baby, but then he decides to use the magic door, what are the consequences of 2 Dazais existing at once or him erasing himself from history, he’s a pretty important literary figure, does someone else replace him or does the space time continuum collapse?? Is the future Vlad sees set in stone or can it be changed, just copy someone else’s time travel bit!!!

So straight up these guys aren’t who they say they are, we’ll go through 1 by 1

Napoleon- doesn’t mention he left the love of his life to marry a girl 20 years his junior (like think how interesting it would be if he’s conflicted about love cuz he had to give it up for political reasons) -that scene where MC talks about all the ‘good’ that he did in Europe, like committing war crimes against the Spanish and Portuguese and Eastern Europeans, being a coloniser, killing the slaves he freed when they asked for more rights, killing thousands of men in a meaningless war (ligit H*tler vibes)

Arthur- goofy irl, literally believed in fairies, had 5 children and married twice but he never mentions any of this, he cheated on his first wife while she was dying of TB, he was a liberal unionist (tldr didn’t like Irish people) he was anti-immigration, might have committed fraud. We’ll get to the other issues I have with him.

Leonardo- fruity as hell, vegetarian

Mozart- they got his character completely wrong, the guy was a complete man child, vain, broke, by the end of his life his career fell off (Beethoven better composer), in love with his cousin 🤢, had a s*at fetish 🤢🤢🤢. The hole Salieri thing didn’t happen.

Vincent- they made him too mentally stable, I’m all for him being meek, but the guy had serious issues that they ignore, he ate paint thinner, was rejected by his both crushes, WHY DOES HE HAVE BOTH EARS, DID IT GROW BACK, THEY SHOULD HAVE LEFT HIM WITH ONLY ONE, also he should be ginger smh. Oh yeah and they never mentioned the s*ecide attempt.

Theo- doesn’t mention his wife, or son, WHO HE NAMED AFTER VINCENT, his wife is the person responsible for Vincent’s work not being completely forgotten, was way nicer irl.

Issac- tbh hotter irl, low key ace, maybe a fruit, kinda mean, the only thing they got right was the major virgin vibes.

Jean- WHY MAN!??!! Even if the didn’t want a lesbian route, they could have gone with any other guy from the 100 years war, Edward black prince, idk WHY GENDER BEND ONE OF THE MOST PROMINENT WOMEN IN HISTORY, I’m fine with the delusional trans dude lie, but they say that he was a guy all along, THEN WHAT WAS THE POINT OF HIM BEING BURNT AT THE STAKE IF HE WASN’T CROSS DRESSING???!!! was he double cross dressing??? This is the worst of them all, give me the girl boss we deserve (revers fate)

Dazai- not depressed enough imo, he was a leftist, again missing wife, their were two su*ecide attempts, guy lived through fire bombing, had a few children that he is fine to erase from existence.

Shakespeare- probably a fruit, again never mentioned his wife and kids, btw the way he talks is annoying, some people don’t think he’s real.

Faust- NOT A REAL PERSON.

Sanson- too young, this guys is 67, really liked the guillotine, just saw execution as his job didn’t really care, had a wife and kids.

Vlad- Ok is he supposed to be Vlad THE impaler? Cuz he’s not evil enough, or is he a Dracula reference, cuz he can’t dance that dance either, why did they call him Vlad if he isn’t a blood thirsty war criminal.

Count- not enough history to work with.

Part 2, problematic moments

So I ha have seen some posts on the low key misogynistic way the MC is written and treated and there are a lot of issues wit white washing history so another trigger warning ⚠️

Misogyny- the MC of this game is not the best, I know she’s a self insert but she has no backbone at all. She lacks agency I’m most of the routes, like the MC getting kidnapped is a troupe in all these games, but Emma can escape on her own, Kate has ⚽️, even Alice had more depth to her, seems the only thing MC can do is cry and wait to be saved, I swear she gets kidnapped once in every route, I think they could have given her more character to work with. Another thing, but Jean being a man is bad, really bad, she’s a feminist icon but they made her a man, it’s sought of saying that women aren’t capable of this so she had to have actually been a man.

Handling of SA, important one here, I’m ok with the flirty guy, but I really hate Arthur, he doesn’t just flirt with her in chapter 1 he assaults her and acts like he did her a service, and she just forgives him!?! I’m fine with a guy that sleeps around, I like Jin and Nokto fine, but the way Arthur talks about women, always calling them Birds (if they were going for English slang it doesn’t work cuz he doesn’t have a cockney accent) or worse Skirts, it’s dehumanising, and shows that to him women are vehicles for sexual pleasure and aren’t on an equal level of understanding. There are smaller parts to, Leo kisses her without consent, the Count hides the truth from her, idk but Theo calling her a ‘hound’ sounds like he’s calling her something else…

Minor points on classism, I’m not expecting the communist manifesto, but all these games aren’t very good at dealing with class deviation. In Vlad’s route, the orphan boy thinks he can impress the rich girl, this is the 19th century, capitalism is on the rise, but there’s no comment about how it’s impossible. The little school Napoleons runs is strange, considering he was in a position where benefited from poor people existing and staying poor, ( side note, he’s teaching them swordsmanship when ww1 is right around the corner, just saying they won’t need it in the military) called MC out as a social climber, these games sought of depict the past through rosé tinted glasses, there’s only passing reference to how fucked people were in the past, Also all the historical inaccuracies above tie to this.

Anyway love to hear some other opinions, (I started playing this game before my transition and have always thought it it was wired, it’s my personal least favourite just cuz I couldn’t really get into any of the guys, my OC ended up as a Carmilla reference so….)

I have seen a post talking about some of the issues before so that’s what got me to write this out, if you disagree or want to add anything I’m all ears 👂

Thanks for reading 💗💖💖💕💓💝💗🥰🥰🥰❤️✨✨✨✨❤️⭐️⭐️⭐️

#ikemen vampire #ikevamp #ikepri #ikevil #ikerev #ikemen series

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beautification-tales · 5 months

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Ginny's heart skipped a beat as she crept down the creaky stairs of her parents' old house. The scent of freshly baked cookies and pine needles filled the air, reminding her of Christmas Eves long past. She'd been expecting this feeling, of course; she was still that same skinny college girl who used to believe in Santa Claus. But now, as she caught a glimpse of a familiar figure hunched over by the tree, she couldn't help but feel a rush of excitement and nervousness course through her veins.

Her heart raced as she approached him, her breath hitching in her throat. Santa Claus, her Santa Claus, was putting the final touches on a pile of presents under the tree. "Santa?" she whispered, her voice barely audible over the crackling of the fire. "Santa, is that you?"

He turned around slowly, his eyes twinkling behind his snowy white beard. A warm smile spread across his rosy cheeks. "Ginny!" he exclaimed, his voice full of delight. "What a surprise! Why are you up?”

She felt her cheeks flush with a mixture of embarrassment and joy. "I-I couldn't sleep," she stammered. "I wanted to see if you needed any help."

He chuckled, his belly jiggling beneath his red suit. "Oh, you don't need to worry about that, my dear. I've been doing this for quite some time, you know." He motioned for her to sit beside him on the plush rug beside the tree. "But," he added with a twinkle in his eye, "I'm always glad for some company."

As they sat there, watching the fire dance and listening to the soft crackle of the wood, Ginny found herself opening up to Santa Claus in a way she never had before. She told him about her struggles in college, about how she missed the innocence of childhood and the joy of believing in magic. And when she confessed her secret crush on him, she felt a weight lift off her shoulders.

Santa Claus chuckled warmly, his eyes twinkling. "Why, Ginny," he said, "I've always known you were a special girl. And you know what? I think you might just be the perfect person to help me out this year."

Ginny felt her heart skip a beat. "Really?" she breathed.

"Yes, really," he replied, reaching into his red suit and pulling out a small, glistening object. "I've been searching for someone to take on this role for a very long time."

He placed the enchanted cookie into her hand. It felt warm and heavy, like it was imbued with magic. "This," he explained, "is an enchanted cookie. If you eat it, it will make you my special helper.”

Ginny's eyes widened in disbelief. "Really?" she breathed.

"Really and truly," Santa Claus assured her, his voice gentle and sincere. "It will give you the magic and power to help me all Christmas Eve.”

She looked down at the enchanted cookie in her hand, feeling a mixture of awe and trepidation. She took a bite as the warm cookie tasted like cinnamon and chocolate.

As she chewed, she felt a strange sensation coursing through her body. At first, it was a tingling in her fingers and toes, like pins and needles. But then, it spread through her entire body, making her feel more alive and vibrant than she ever had before. Her breasts seemed to swell, growing larger and fuller beneath her sweater, and her hips widened, curving out in a way that made her feel incredibly feminine.

She glanced down at herself in shock, then back up at Santa Claus. He was grinning from ear to ear, his eyes twinkling with delight. "That," he said with a nod, "is the power of the enchanted cookie. It's giving you the body of a goddess.”

As she continued to stare at herself, her reflection in the tree, Ginny realized that her pajamas had completely morphed into a Santa Claus outfit. The once-plain pajama top had transformed into a tight red blouse with white plush cuffs. Her pajama pants were now a pair of shiny black panties that hugged her legs and shapely behind. She even had a pair of black boots on her feet.

Her hair, which had been tied back into a ponytail, now flowed freely around her shoulders in soft, wavy curls. She felt as if she had been transformed into a living, breathing version of one of Santa's elves. She couldn't help but smile, feeling a thrill of excitement and anticipation coursing through her.

Santa Claus chuckled, seeing the look of awe and wonder on her face. "Well, well, well," he said, clapping his hands together, "it seems my magic cookie has done its job. You look absolutely radiant, Ginny. I knew you'd make a perfect addition to my team."

He stood up and offered her a hand, helping her to her feet. She felt a newfound confidence and grace as she took his hand, their skin connecting in a warm, electric way that made her heart race. "Now then," he continued, "it's time for you to begin your training.”

Ginny looked at Santa with a hunger in her eyes. She had always loved Santa but now it seemed she wanted even more as she licked her lips. She felt the magic coursing through her but she also felt something that made her now heavy breasts tingle.

"Yes, sir," she breathed, her voice huskier than before. "I'm ready to help you, Santa."

He chuckled, his laugh filling the room. "Oh, Mrs Claus, you have no idea how much help you're going to be. You are going to make all the children happy this Christmas Eve."

#beautification #breast expansion #transformation #f2f transformation #mrs clause #bimboification #stepfordization

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