#so i want us all to imagine the costuming for this show. thank you. | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

temis-de-leon · 9 days

Text

Love potion and Dateables - Part 3

Characters: Diavolo, Barbatos, Solomon and Simeon (x reader, separately)

Intro , Part 1 , Part 2

Masterlist

CW: fluff, hurt, insecurities, Barbatos is living in a horror movie for a hot minute, boys are crushing hard and MC is implied to be crushing hard too, pre-established relationship

A/N: I didn't know what to do for Simeon's part and it turned out to be the longest

Diavolo

His extensive knowledge on etiquette begged him to knock the door, but his longing asked him otherwise. He didn’t have much time until Lucifer came looking for him and he really, deeply, needed to see you.

RAD’s latest festival had been a massive hit, various stalls displaying regional costumes, homemade food and games, and he had been naïve enough to think he finally had the chance to take you on a real date. A moment with no interruptions for him to show you how he felt and for you to, hopefully, love him back.

Sadly, spirit week passed by and Diavolo barely had any time to see you. All he watched, from your stunning features to your sparkling eyes, had been from afar. And now, days later, he still felt a tingle in his chest whenever he remembered how you looked during the festivities.

So he knocked once, twice, thrice, until his impatience got the best of him and made him open the door.

The room was dark, but your scent still lingered. It felt weird, however. What was it? Your blood and sweat? The products you used on your body and your clothes? Scented candles, perfume, food…? What was it? A mix of everything, it seemed.

The guilt of intruding your private space mildly subdued when he saw the cauldron on the table.

So that’s what it was. Surely homework for Solomon, although he’d had to ask the sorcerer what was the purpose of this particular assignment.

The potion looked like blood covered velvet and it immediately reminded him of his future: a rich fabric drowned in danger. On the other hand, its warmth soon embraced his face, allowing him to imagine your fingers caressing his cheekbones, your lips covering his in a smile with ridiculous care.

Diavolo sighed and walked away from the table, not sure of what to do. He couldn’t stay and risk being caught by you, but he knew he wouldn’t be able to sleep that night if he went back to the castle without talking to you first.

He checked his uniform, straightening his tie before brushing his hair with his fingers.

If he was lucky, he’d cross paths with you on the hallway.

Barbatos

The House of Lamentation was introduced to a new routine the moment Barbatos saw that rat. Mandatory deep cleaning once a week and very recommended evacuation once a month for disinfecting purposes. Barbatos would refuse to enter the house otherwise, which was the last thing he wanted to do because he hadn’t spent any quality time with you in days.

There had been chit-chat in RAD whenever he saw you, as well as short trivial conversations on the phone. He’d also tried to invite you to his tamest shopping trips and as much tea parties as he was capable of organizing, but damn the brothers for being jealous and making everything so difficult.

Never in his life he would’ve believe he’d feel thankful for a rat’s existence.

However, MC, if you didn’t open your door in the next ten seconds he would open it himself.

Barbatos knocked again, mouth full of saliva and heart jumping out of his chest. He could feel something crawling up his back, whiskers and soft fur exploring his skin under the uniform and tiny claws scratching whatever they could.

Unable to keep waiting in the deserted hallway, wide enough for any rodent to run up to him without being detected, he rushed inside your room and closed the door with a bang. He felt deeply embarrassed, thankful that you weren’t there to see his dishevelled state, but his demeanour changed when he smelt the room.

It was something he was very familiar with: the tea blend he made just for you! Smiling softly at the realization, he created an image in his mind; you trying to do the blend on your own and succeeding. It made his heart soar in pride and apreciation.

His mood quickly changed without him noticing and soon the only thing occupying his mind was you. How thankful you were of his actions, MC, how happy you made him feel by simply existing.

Feeling stronger than ever and giving himself a few more seconds to breathe and regain his rationality, Barbatos opened the door and stepped out of your room.

His fears be damned; he was in dire need of your presence.

Solomon

Your smell vanished soon after your departure and Solomon had to grip the edges of the table to stop himself from grabbing the vial again. He knew what would happen then, as it happened before. He would lose himself in the potion and the memories within, every reason he had to love you and to feel loved by you.

Your humanity, tainted, but still present, the colour of your eyes, the softness of your skin; the lack of horns and wings and tail. How you trusted him against everyone’s advice, like you knew there was more to him that no one else bothered to see.

And he refused to feel threatened by someone like Mammon; Barbatos or Simeon he could understand, but why Mammon? Why did he have to sit and stare whenever the Avatar of Greed reached the limit of his jealousy? And why did that limit lower when Solomon was present?

He frowned in anger and frustration. Ironically, the thing he knew would make him feel better was the one he was viciously trying to avoid. Was he even an option for you, MC? Asmo did tell him from time to time to go for it, but he also inserted himself in those fantasies, so Solomon tended to take his words with a pinch of salt.

Unable to resist the temptation of your comfort, he walked towards the cabinet and grabbed the vial again. How could such a small container radiate so much warmth? For so many years he had it and in just a few months it grew stronger than ever.

Reinvigorated.

That’s how you made him feel. You may call him an old man and he may be an old man, MC, but he wasn’t one to bend the knee and he wouldn’t start doing that now.

Feeling determined, Solomon vaguely waved his hand and watched as his room tidied up itself. Books flying to the shelves on the walls, spell equipment returning to its original place in the table and clothes resting in hangers.

You once called him Mary Poppins and he had yet to understand, but never mind that for now.

He’d give you enough time to make your own potion during the evening and then he’d go to the House of Lamentation. Having your friendship was enough, but King Solomon the Wise never settled.

Simeon

The moment he heard Solomon’s door close, his heart went up his throat, blood rushing through his body in excitement. The table was full of vegetables, meats and fruit native to the Devildom, the result of experimentation as a cure to boredom, and he deeply hoped you could stay for dinner. He needed more testers other than Luke’s sweet tooth and Solomon’s destroyed palate.

To his disappointment, the only thing you did when you entered the kitchen was wave goodbye.

“Gotta leave, Simeon! Enjoy dinner!”

“Wait! MC!”

You turned around, fighting to force your arm inside the jacket with your schoolbag tightly secured between your legs. You looked at him silently, embarrassed? Probably due to the unnecessary effort when gathering your things.

“Why don’t you stay for dinner? There’s more than enough for all of us”

You smiled back at him, suddenly bashful, before pointing at your bag.

“I have homework to do, blame your roommate”

He laughed and rolled his eyes, trying not to show his dissatisfaction at seeing you leaving once again, but he could try another time. Probably best to ask in advance, though.

“What did he ask you to do?”

His hands went back to the food, cleaning, cutting and slicing with carefulness, but his eyes were set on you. Simeon couldn’t help but feel anything other than delight when he noticed you leaving the bag on the floor and coming closer.

“It’s a love potion, he said it might come in handy in the future”

“Did he now?”

For what, he may wonder. He hoped you never felt the need to use it; your heart was more than enough to enchant anyone you encountered.

“He showed it to me once, too” he confessed, not really thinking through what he was saying “It smelled rather nice; although I suppose that’s its purpose…”

His mouth stayed open, unsure of what to say next, before finally closing with a snap. Simeon’s attention went back to the food once more, failing to see your uncertainty at his words.

“And what did you…?”

He raised his gaze when you stopped talking and your shy demeanour took him by surprise. Did something happen? Did he say something wrong? He was about to ask, worried at your silence, but you beat him to it.

“Forget it, it’s nothing. I’m going home, okay? I need to study”

“Stay safe, MC”

You nodded, then grabbed your bag again and left the kitchen. Barely a minute later he heard the front door open and close one final time.

Whatever happened? Everything seemed to be doing okay, although he did stop looking at you for a short moment. Did the love potion have something to do with it? Solomon better pray that wasn’t the case, otherwise he’d be learning a new method of teaching very soon.

Fortunately for the sorcerer, thinking about the love potion again made him remember what he smelled when he saw it for the first time. A faint scent of old books, like a memory, and a stronger coat of cinnamon, cocoa powder and whipped cream.

He had a great idea.

Maybe a couple of pastries would make you feel better! He’d need to notify Lucifer in advance so someone could hide the desserts from Beel until you were finished.

Or should he deliver them in person? Simeon couldn’t avoid imagining you opening your bedroom door, smile wide in your face upon seeing him and offering him to eat his baking together, like many times before.

He’d make sure to prepare your favourites; he knew them by memory.

@hello-gloomy @the-sassiest-toaster @hero-nii-blog @yourlocalyin @elaemae @eliciria @darkflowerav @zarakem @yuuvis32 @anxious-chick @commets-space @deepestartisanhumanoidshark @ourfinalisation

140 notes · View notes

rhysdarbinizedarby · 5 months

Text

‘Our Flag Means Death’ Star Rhys Darby on Stede’s Transformations & Hopes for Season 3

[Warning: The below contains MAJOR spoilers for Our Flag Means Death Season 2 Episode 8 “Mermen.”]

Our Flag Means Death saw Gentleman pirate Stede Bonnet (Rhys Darby) transform from a fish-out-of-water swashbuckler into the romantic hero he was always destined to be in the latest season of Max‘s original comedy.

After realizing the error of his ways at the end of Season 1, Stede sought redemption in the eyes of the infamous Blackbeard, a.k.a. Ed (Taika Waititi), after recognizing he was in love with the pirate. While the path wasn’t a direct one, they eventually found their way back to one another with the help of a fantastical mermaid sequence, some much-needed apologies, and ultimately a better string of communication.

Reflecting on his journey, star Rhys Darby is opening up about Stede’s various transformations in Season 2, including the excitement surrounding that mermaid tail, as well as about where he thinks the pirate lovebirds might end up next should the series return for Season 3.

Congrats on Season 2! Now that we can finally talk about it, what has it been like getting to see fan reactions, especially during the SAG-AFTRA strike?

Rhys Darby: Yeah, it was like a pressure cooker that needed to burst, for us and for the fans. When it finally came out, the burst happened and there was so much love for us, [but we] couldn’t talk about it. We were still stuck in this bottle and the cork wouldn’t come off, and that was difficult, but it was really lovely to see all the love and the surprise from everyone. Obviously, as you know, the fan artwork, it’s what we would say in New Zealand is pretty full on. So yeah, it was super cool.

And not that anyone gives out numbers, but I think I heard on the ethos that people [are] watching it, and it’s rating really high and at a time when we need this kind of beautiful love fest of comedy with a whole bunch of silliness to take us away from the disasters that are happening in the world. It’s been lovely. I just wish it was longer. I know people watch and rewatch and they’re so fanatical, but it’s just a comedy show, so to have any effect means so much to us.

In Season 2, Stede’s gone through a few transformations, one of which is that he’s a real pirate now, at least comparatively to Season 1. What helped you get into that new version of him? Was it the writing, costumes, or a combination of the two?

Yeah, the costumes are the first thing that comes to mind because once he starts wearing different gear, he looks at himself and goes, “Oh my God, I’m a different man.” And he really is turning from a man who is wearing these beautiful gowns with high heels and things inappropriate for a pirate ship to becoming an Errol Flynn-type hero straight away. That’s what they wanted to do with the character. So he’s lost a lot of that beautiful pageantry and is becoming a more practical guy who has to survive. He returns to this nightmare of a world because he wants to fight for love, and for want of a better term, “man up,” whatever the modern-day version of that is, “person up?” To become the guy that he dreamt of being in the first season.

He didn’t dream that he was going to fall in love with someone. He dreamt he was going to be this amazing pirate and that just was not going to happen. But then when he found this love, I think he went away from that [dream] going, “I don’t deserve this.” And then when he realized upon returning home that he does deserve it, he had to fight for it. And so the only way to fight for it was to drop the battle armor of the gowns and actually become the pirate he imagined being. So it was great to become that and to fight for that love and to thank god that [Blackbeard] didn’t die. He would’ve actually lost it, I think, because it would’ve been like, “Well, what am I fighting for now?”

I think it was just so fun to see that character change, but also within that change, see a bit of the old self come through, especially when he found that cursed red suit. And all of a sudden it was like, “Oh my God, the old me again, look how good I look!” So it was lovely that they had those elements… I was missing a little bit of the old Stede myself. So it was great to find that again. And then again near the end with the British invasion scenario where I got to do the big coat and everything, which of course looked awesome. You can see that moment where I put it on and did that slow turnaround. It was way more filmic shots of me wearing that kind of stuff. And I think that gave Stede's strength as well. So much of Stede's embodiment comes from the things he’s wearing.

Speaking of costumes, the big one of the season had to be Stede’s mermaid look. How did you wrap your head around getting ready for such a fantastical, and ultimately, beautiful scene?

That was the highlight of the whole season for me. As a kid, I used to swim around like a little merkid. I would put my legs together and I’d swim under the water. I’ve always been into mermaids and things because I’m into cryptozoology. So when I got to be a mermaid or a merman, I really took to it. It was pretty easy, to be honest with you. I didn’t have any training to swim like that. So the only training I did was some breath work beforehand to help me hold my breath longer. But that was kind of almost superfluous. Once I got that [tail] on, I just became a mermaid. It’s hard for me to describe how I suddenly become these things, but I think I just got under the water. I could swim really easily with it.

And I had weights on. So one of the things was we had to make sure I was the right weight so that I wouldn’t just float. That thing was sort of buoyant. So once we sorted that out, I could actually swim really well, and then just sort of hover underneath the water for a long time while [Taika]’s looking at me, I’m looking at him. To see it on the day, on the screen when I knew they’d got [the shot], there were just so many cheers, and I think they even played the music to see how the scene would work out. It’s one of those life moments where you go, “Oh my God, I’m becoming a cryptid again. I’m never going to forget this.”

This season really does focus even more on Stede and Blackbeard’s romance. How did you and Taika prepare for that? Especially since Stede’s more transparent about his feelings this time around.

It was good, and it was time. And because I was the new strong Stede, it felt really natural for me. I think it just worked really well with the writing because of the aggression that I was going through. When I was fighting that really bad guy [Ned Low (Bronson Pinchot) and] threw a violin at him because he ruined Calypso’s birthday, that was a good moment because it is not just about Ed, it’s about the crew, Stede’s family, and they were going through this amazing moment there, and all of a sudden this guy turns up and next thing we’re getting tortured. And I’m like, “How dare you?”

I think that progression of strength helped [Stede] break into the moment of, “I’m just going to take my lover as well now, and do something with him.” He probably had no idea what he was doing because it’s Stede, but it worked out and it was the right time in the show. Taika and I are really good mates, so it’s really easy to do emotional scenes together. As soon as we put our gear on, we’re just looking at that character, and we admire each other.

You and Taika have been known to improv on the show. Was there any improv moment from Season 2 you were particularly proud to see onscreen?

Yeah. Well, one, I noticed that some people are talking about that they thought was scripted, which wasn’t — most of the [scenes where] I’m with Taika are improvised in those emotional close moments — is on the deck of the boat where we’d do the thumb thing. That was all improvised on the day. So that was fun that we got that kind of stuff in. And there were some more little bits and pieces, but that’s one that comes to mind. That worked really well.

By the end of Season 2, Stede and Blackbeard have settled in to open their own inn. Do you think the peace and quiet will last in a possible third season, or will they get bored and want to rejoin the excitement?

Well, obviously as it stands now, it’s very lovely and it’s a nice positive ending, which is lovely for Season 2. But in reality, if you think about the characters, even in the fictional world, they’re both outlaws, they’re pirates, and the British back then… they never gave up. They did track down all the pirates and either hang them or get rid of them. There was only a couple that got away, and it certainly wasn’t those two. So I think what they’re thinking is, yes, this is bliss, but both those characters must be thinking, this is not going to last because you’ve got to sleep with one eye open.

Even though they’re in the middle of nowhere, they’re still in an area where everyone knows what they are, so they’re going to be tracked down. So I think if it was me, [they’d] end up back in action one way or another, especially if their inn is popular, which it probably would be. Word would get around. I mean, in those days, had you heard the Blackbeard and Stede had opened up an inn, [you’d have] to check that one out. It’ll be like Planet Hollywood.

There would be a wait-list, for sure.

Yeah, absolutely. Basically, they’re too famous now that Stede’s killed Ned and everything. He’s a famous pirate. So death is going to come to their door at some point. They’ll have to deal with it.

Do you think this version of Stede and Blackbeard’s story could avoid the fate of the real-life pirates?

Yeah, no, I think you’re dreaming if you think they’re going to live happily ever after.

Our Flag Means Death, Seasons 1-2, Streaming now, Max

Source: TV Insider

#ofmd #our flag means death #ofmd s2 spoilers #behind the scenes #rhys darby #taika waititi #interview #tv insider

357 notes · View notes

anundyingfidelity · 1 month

Text

I'M A RUIN — Soldier Boy/Ben (Part IV)

Series summary: After the events of the Seven Tower, you present Grace Mallory a new secret project you're working on already to develop a cure to Compound V. The only problem? You need Soldier Boy for that.

Pairing: Soldier Boy/Ben x female reader.

Word count: 2.8k.

Warnings for series: set after S3 (spoilers), some OOC!Ben, some depressed!Ben, angst, hurt/comfort, eventual smut, slow-burn, language, PTSD, reader has Compound V (she's no Vought supe tho), Soldier Boy being an usual asshole, reader is a fucking liar.

Warnings on this chapter: Reader's parents are fucking irresponsible and disgusting people, mentions of a dead parent, Homelander!!!! (he's a fucking warning), sexual assault (touching, kissing, etc.) and some after thoughts, you know the usual questionable stuff on TB universe, Ben's point of view and presence=red flag.

Notes: more about reader's past in here! And just want to add that this is how i imagine her suit on this chapter. I'm also using a lot of inspo from Sue Storm of the Fantastic Four because I love her, so yeah. And thanks so much for reading it means a lot to me! ^^

this fic tags: @k-slla @syrma-sensei @mostlymarvelgirl @cheynovak @drasticemotions @blacknoirr @deans-spinster-witch

☕ if you like my writing, support me with a ko-fi !

get yourself in the taglist!

GEN MASTERLIST! — SERIES MASTERLIST!

Part IV: Countdown

2009

"Spectrum, turn around, please," the lady on the other side of the camera ordered.

You did as she told, turning slowly and showing a complete view of your suit. Made of unstable molecules, the suit was your best creation at the time. It was all white with black details, and finally you had something covering your whole body that'd turn invisible when you commanded. Your boots were the same, specially built to disappear and blend with your powers when needed.

"Great, show us what you can do," the woman said.

You nodded, your heart beating so hard on your chest. You didn't want to fuck it up. Not for your mother. She was the main reason why you were there in the first place. You took a deep breath, with eyes closed you raised your palms at your chest level and created a force field around your figure. The force fields you learnt to make over the years of self training were like gigantic bubbles that allowed you to float around if you said so, and they protected you or anyone or anything they were covering.

The camera, the couch, the table, and any single thing you found in the room were now surrounded by the fields, lifting them up a couple of feet from the surface. And once you thought it was enough, they landed slowly on their place, the fields vanished just like the one around yourself. Though the lady on the other side didn't seem amused or surprised.

"I also turn invisible," you said for the first time after your personal presentation was over.

"Go on," she plainly answered.

And within seconds, you slowly disappeared from her sight. The fabric of the suit faded away.

"I created this special costume to turn invisible without, you know, being naked," you commented.

Still, there was no clear answer on the face of the woman. She was just busy taking notes and filming your audition with the steady camera on the table. She said nothing, her eyes glued to her writing. Disappointed, you made yourself visible again.

"That's impressive!"

You gasped. It was that voice you heard so many times on TV. His steps came closer and he stopped by your side with a smile on his face.

"Homelander," the woman called with a wide, fake grin. "You weren't supposed to be in here."

"Just passing by, wanted to say hi. I'm really amazed by you, darling."

You tried to smile the best you could. But you were so tense and flustered now that he was in front of you. Your childhood hero, coming to see you at your audition. Even before you got a clear response from Vought. It felt like a dream. Any child had dreamt of it at some point.

You grew up with him and the Seven. He was one of the reasons you forgot every single problem and responsibility your dysfunctional, selfish family put you through from a young age. To them, you were just a doll to play with and show off. The perfect daughter. But seeing the Seven was totally different. You wanted to be like them. Too sad this part was also linked to your mother and her self-centered shit. If only...

"Thank you," you barely answered with a soft voice, looking down on your boots.

"I've been out there, hesitating if I should come in, since you created those force fields. Wow!" he praised, making you chuckle. "You left the door open on purpose, didn't you two?"

All you could do was chuckle again, you felt your cheeks burning at his banter. He smiled along with you before turning his eyes to the lady.

"Hey, Greta. Can you leave us alone for a moment?"

"But I have to-"

Homelander chuckled, cutting her words. "Absolutely no, I can continue for you. Remember?"

Greta, as he called her, swallowed thickly and her eyes switched between you and the supe. "Sure, sir."

She lifted herself up from the chair, took her things and went out. You noticed the camera was still in place, that meant it was still rolling.

Once the door closed. "So..." he began, walking a circle around you. "How'd you create this... costume of yours?"

"Well, I like science," you nervously smiled, playing with your glove-covered hands. He passed by your face this time and paced around one more time. "It took me a while to figure out how but I did something with the molecules, created my own patent of the matter and did this complete costume."

Homelander stopped at your back. He hummed. "Smart. Tell me..."

His pause made you answer what he was looking for. "Spectrum."

"Spectrum, why do you want to be part of the Seven so bad?"

Homelander dragged your alias with a dark voice, one that replaced the long warm and welcoming tone he had with you at first. You licked your lips, anxious and out of words. Once behind your figure, he angled himself so close to one of your ears that you felt his hot breath on your skin.

"So? I know you have something to say, dear."

"I- I just want to help others... Do what you guys do..."

The next thing you felt was the supe's strong body pressing on your ass. You gasped loudly as his hands grabbed the sides of your hips forcing you to fall back against his chest.

"Go on," Homelander whispered.

One of his hands roamed over your stomach slowly, right under your breasts, and you were absolutely caged on his grip. You took deep breaths, closing your eyes as he touched you over the suit.

"I- I know science, I told you. Also I can help the team w-with new inventions of my own... Create technology t-to fight very bad threats," you stuttered.

"Mmmh, yeah, I like the sound of that," Homelander chuckled against your neck, his lips tracing soft and unwanted kisses on your skin.

"Please- ah!"

He harshly pushed you against his groin. Your breath caught in your throat at the feel of his crotch. This wasn't what you thought it was. This was not what your mother signed you up for.

"Tell me, did your father know how much of a fucking slut you are?" Homelander hissed, his hand cupping your covered breast.

Something inside you emerged at his question. His touch was disgusting and it was making you sick and the mention of your father, your dead father, made it even worse.

"What do you know about him?" you asked in a dark whisper, still planning your next move.

Deep inside, you were scared of Homelander, it was a new face he had yet to show to the world.

"Just the basics, honey," he said plainly, forcing you to walk with a grip on your arm. The supe sat on the couch and pushed you to his lap. "He was quite the rich man, Edgar knew you'd be a great deal to the company, well, your money of course."

You let out a gasp. "What?"

"Honey, he was one of our most valuable shareholders," he playfully answered, his hands cupping your cheeks.

And it clicked. Your mother supported your dream just because she'd still be getting profits from Vought. The firm was now under her name, and she needed something more to strengthen the relationship between Vought and your father's inheritance. The fucking witch. And then, your father. He was the one financing this piece of shit sitting between your legs. Were all supes like this behind their masks? If so, fucking crap. Everything you believed in was bullshit. A circus. And they clowned you so well. And above all, the sickening man that had been touching you without your permission the past endless minutes...

"Oh, poor thing, you didn't know," Homelander's intense blue eyes widened when he immediately noticed your confused, blank face.

Your eyes filled with tears and still, you refused to cry in front of the asshole you once admired.

"Don't worry, I'll take care of you here with us," he smirked. His fingers on your neck, feeling your pulse. You closed your eyes so hard, your nose wrinkled and you held back a sob when his hand added pressure around your collar. He leaned closer, his lips finding yours in a sloppy kiss as you tried to resist his touch. "So fucking useful," Homelander whispered against your lips. He gave you that mischievous grin of his. You shivered. "I can't wait to ruin you. Every single inch of you."

The same past memory of Homelander haunted you the next day. The way you found out about your father's business with Vought and how the supes showed their real faces was the main reason you were here now.

You remembered you had to hit Homelander as hard as you could to escape from him and use your force field to protect yourself before running away and leaving the tower, fully invisible. Not that it was a great help since Homelander had a lot of abilities with his vision, and he could hear the beating of your heart miles away, but for you, it was worth the try. It was a surprise he didn't follow you that day. Instead, Vought got a new deal with your mother for the budget and you hated that. You cut all communication with what was left of your family after that day, knowing it could've been so much worse.

Homelander and Vought, however, were after you now. And he was a difficult face to forget. Not only because he was faking everything from the public but because Vought was after your father's money. And deciding to step away from all the illegal stuff they did, you left for college. Science was always a part of you and it's what got you here, under Grace Mallory and the CIA, doing different jobs you were not so proud of, but now, you were looking for a cure. It was all that mattered those days, until you found out that your mother had been experimented on during her pregnancy. A fucking lie. That's what your life was. That's why she cheered you to go to that stupid audition and fell into the hands of that monster at twenty-three years old.

The thought of your father supporting the horrid things Vought and the Seven did for decades was unbearable, and since Homelander's visit the night before caused those memories and nightmares to be back. It took a great effort to get out of bed and come to work that day. You'd make sure to compensate yourself for it later. But now, you were in a hurry to your daily session with Soldier Boy. You saved your phone in the pocket of your trousers after checking the time as you walked down the aisle, grabbing tightly the report of your patient with your other hand. Well, thirty minutes late wasn't nothing.

"Doctor!" you heard a female voice running towards you in the halls that made you turn on your heels. It was your young assistant.

"Hey, Bianca. What's wrong?" you asked as you noticed she was a little out of breath.

"We ran another test. The supe survived," she blurted, handing you a tablet that you didn't take. Sometimes the change in the results was minimal.

"That's great. Any significant improvements?"

"Well, just minimal effects. Right now some fever, fatigue, dehydration, and uhm, low pulse."

You sighed after another illusion. "Right. I don't think those are minimal effects, Bianca. Please check our patient and see how the powers are working. Run blood tests, all tests you can and then you can provide me the results. I'm a little busy right now."

She nodded with a shy smile, looking around subtly. "Sure."

You smiled back as best as you could. "Anything else?"

"No, it's just- I see you go this way a lot," Bianca pointed to the direction you were heading with her gaze. "That's Soldier Boy, isn't he?"

Your brows furrowed. "Why you ask?"

"Nothing, well, my grandpa used to talk about him all the time," she giggled. "I was just curious, sorry."

"No problem. I get it. But I really have to go, please make sure those results are on my desk by the end of the day," you ordered kindly.

"I will."

"Thanks, Bianca."

With that, you gave a last smile and began your walk again away from her, slower than before. For some reason something was off since you entered the building. It felt different. Totally weird. For the record, since Homelander threatened to have your head off, you paid twice the attention to your surroundings and the people around. You didn't know if there was something big planning right now in front of your nose. You just walked a couple of feet when you felt someone following behind, that was probably watching over you. In a swift movement, you turned on your heels but no one was there. The aisle was empty.

Bianca was already gone and almost no one would wander on this wing of the building, for obvious reasons. With caution you resumed your steps, telling yourself that you were not going insane.

"Robert Singer and I have been hard at work bridging the divide between the human and Superhuman communities. I've seen that divide firsthand in my three years running the FBSA—"

Ben scoffed, taking the TV controller to turn the screen off. "Bullshit."

He stood in the middle of the room with nothing but a towel hanging down his hips after taking a shower, taking the last smoke of his blunt. He grew tired of waiting for you, so he just took a shower and now, everything on the fucking channels was the stupid campaign by Victoria Neuman being supported by Vought and the fucking brat he was supposed to call his son.

With a deep breath, he finished the weed and threw the remains on the ashtray over the new coffee table. His mind started to wander away, realizing he had been a little calm the last couple of days after he almost blew up the fucking place to the ground. Inside, Ben knew your words and actions were a lot of help for the small sense of serenity that started to grow within his chest after that moment. Absolutely that was something he wouldn't admit, ever. But if he was to say, he was actually relieved.

Taking a look around, his place was not that big of a mess. You were certainly used to his clothes around the floor and the sofas, so it wasn't really important. What he found annoying though was you pushing him to read the stupid books and write down his feelings. He wasn't going to do that. If you were there to medicate him, so be it. He wondered why you took so long to do it. Probably he should be stoned enough to not feel anything. That was fucking better.

Just as he started to go over his mental plan to get the hell out of your prison, the door opened. He smirked at your sight. As always, an useless armed man standing behind your figure. You dispatched the guard and stepped inside Soldier Boy's place, the door closing with a loud sound.

You stopped your tracks just a few steps away from him. He noticed your eyes tracing his half bare body in a quick motion, before turning to his face with an arrogant smirk on your lips.

"See something you like, sweetheart?" Ben teased.

With a light chuckle, you held your head high. "Don't be delusional, it's just basic instinct."

"Believe me, I fucking know that," he snarked, taking over your figure with his green eyes the same way you did before. "Basic instinct."

You rolled your eyes. "So," you sat down in your usual place to start the session, making a pile of three of his shirts in the empty space. "Make yourself decent and then we can continue."

Ben took some sweatpants and a shirt from the floor and started to dress himself in front of you, without much care. He smirked as you turned away your gaze to focus on the report lying on your lap.

"You're late," he remarked, taking his own seat once he was done with his clothes.

"Yeah, I had some things to do," you mumbled going through the pages. "But I see we can start now."

He took a deep breath, staring into the distance. "Don't make it boring."

You grimaced, looking back at him. "Can't promise that."

Ben sensed a playfulness coming from you. Could it be that, after recieving your comforting words, he was seeing another side of you? Like the side that would actually trust him, because you still arrived. You were sitting in front of him. You were with him, in the same fucking room where the sun was far from getting. Yeah, you were there but he was too full of ego to bring his walls down again. He wanted to convince himself he wasn't vulnerable. He knew he was more than that. He was Soldier Boy, the man who had to stop Homelander and his fucking kid.

He smirked. "Well, sugar, I can ask you to try."

#soldier boy x reader #soldier boy x you #soldier boy x female reader #soldier boy imagine #soldier boy fanfiction #the boys amazon fanfiction #the boys series #the boys tv #jensen ackles fanfiction #soldier boy/ben

95 notes · View notes

hypermania · 8 months

Text

transcript of the full thread:

"A very long thread: To the League fans, We found out this news along with you on Friday. I see the pain and anger and worry out there, which for the LGBTQIA+ fans of the show is of course compounded by what’s happening across the country right now. #ALeagueOfTheirOwn

So the first and most important thing to say is: Before anything, before you fight for the show or each other, please take care of yourselves. Reach out to your community and ask for help if you need it. You aren’t alone. Please be kind to yourselves.

As I’ve been thinking about what’s happened, I come back to a quote from Penny Marshall’s film: “The hard is what makes it great.” Making this show is so hard and so great. There’s quite a bit to say about what’s been hard, but at this point that’s in the past.

Of course, if we have an avenue to do it well, we will continue the show, and I love seeing the noise you’re making in support of that. The noise matters!

And it’s hard for me to imagine there wouldn’t be a home for a show that thanks to you was in the Nielsen Top 10 for three weeks, was the top show on Amazon for a month and in the top five for six, that was recognized by critics as something special, that’s been recognized…

…with awards from GLAAD, HRC and a million other organizations, that was on a million year-end top ten lists, and that has a built in and deeply passionate audience.

Amazon is pursuing different kinds of programming, but to the rest of the world this show is a hit and has huge value and even greater potential. But first things first, we have to win this strike and get a fair deal before we can explore what comes next.

But for a moment, I want to talk about what happens if the world didn’t quite change quickly enough for you to have all the seasons of this show that we want to give you.

If we don’t find a good path forward, I will still know that League did what it came here to do and, in its own small way, changed the world.

And that’s because of all of you, and the light you continue to shine on the show — How you let it matter to you, how you let it become a mirror, how you let it change you.

I’ve never experienced a response to a show that’s as deep, personal, creative and meaningful as what the fans have done with League. When we were making the season 1, we all wondered and worried about whether people would accept it on its own terms next to the film.

They have, and you did that, and so much more. You lit up the internet on your first watch throughs of the show, when you realized where it was going (and made all of us laugh in the process).

You wrote enough fan fiction for 100 novels and created an outpouring of art and creativity that could fill its own museum — I’ve truly never seen anything like it.

You lifted up a 95 year old who had just come out of the closet and made her into a celebrity who gets recognized wherever she goes. Every time any member of the cast appears at anything, you turn it into a convention.

You stop Abbi wherever she goes, and though I’m a happily inconspicuous person, and you constantly find me and stop me and give me gifts that now have a shelf in my house.

When thousands of you appeared to see D’Arcy at the stage door of The Thanksgiving Play over its run, you turned it into the hottest queer bar in New York. You made Max’s suit and Chante’s beautiful performance into a movement.

A mob of you went to Pittsburgh and saw all of our locations. You dressed as the characters and made our characters into one of the biggest halloween costumes of last year.

You came out, you changed pronouns, you started living more openly, you gave sermons in church about the show, you opened bars, and you got a truly mind boggling number of tattoos that say “to the five” and “rob the bank.” What else am I forgetting? I'm sure you'll remind me.

But most importantly, you made a community, you found each other and found joy, which of course is what the show is about. In many more ways than I would ever have let myself imagine while we were making it, you literally bring the show to life every day.

Thank you for making our work mean something bigger. We’ve heard from so many different kinds of people around the world who are watching League.

But, in a time when all queer people are personally and politically under attack across the country and HRC has declared a “state of emergency,” my biggest fear is that the many queer fans of League will take this reversal as one more invalidation, one more blow, one more…

…effect of the general politicization of our identities. Most of us grew up feeling invisible, and as we gain strength, the predictable backlash forces are trying their hardest to get us to go back underground.

In case anyone needs to hear it: You are not small, niche, modest, off-putting or marginal, and neither are your stories. You are multitudes, you are building, and your stories are universal. You are the most rapidly growing audience and consumer group in this country.

You are powerful. You are the future, and the people who don’t recognize your importance now will feel be clamoring to catch up in a few years. As Chante said so beautifully when we received the Human Right Campaign Visionary award, you are the main characters. Be proud.

Be angry if you that’s how you feel, but know that we are going to win, and don’t ever let this moment or any other make you small. The biggest lesson of the characters in this show is that, in a world that had no space for them at all, they LIVED. (Continued)

They found love, they did the things they loved, they won. You’re doing the same thing, and just like them, you are heroes. We are still fighting for League. But whether we win or lose this one, I’m so proud.

From the time when we began working on the season, Abbi, Deta and I said to each other — Let’s not hold anything back, for as long as we get to be here, let’s do this the right way.

We got so many notes wondering if the exploration of the queer world of the 1940s or Max’s world would be better saved for season 2, if people needed to start somewhere a little more familiar. I’m so glad we didn’t listen, cause now I’m sitting here without any regrets.

And no matter what happens, the people behind League aren’t going anywhere. Give us a minute, we will be back with more for you to watch and read and feel. We’re going to win.

And you’re not going anywhere either, because what you’ve built and what you are is bigger than this show. It’s the story of our community, that comes to us through the hidden history that League shows just one small part of: The bars got raided and shut down.

But the people didn’t go anywhere, and they opened a new bar, and out of those spaces came music, cinema, dance, culture — What we now see as mainstream was birthed from the spaces our predecessors were forced to hide in. They made joy there."

#aloto #a league of their own #will graham #mp #long post

270 notes · View notes

millerscoffee · 6 months

Text

there's no such thing as good grief

1k | joel miller x reader

rating: G, i guess

warning: grief, parental loss, mentions of sarah and ellie, halloween, porch swinging, hand holding, soft!joel, joel is a guardian angel tbh. no use of y/n

A/N: this is a little self indulgent, i suppose. but i needed to write, i haven't written in, what, a month? and i wanted to oil the wheel. it's probably not the best, i kinda halfway proofread it, but that's okay. who better to navigate grief with than joel "the grief ain't good™️" miller? thanks for being cool about it.

Leaves of trees change colour before they shrivel and descend to the ground.

That’s just how life works.

That’s how it’s supposed to happen. And it was in Jackson.

It surprised you, even still, that in the depths of despair within humanity, traditions were so closely held to the chests of those still alive and willing to stoke its embers.

It’s dusk. The town’s children in makeshift costumes or ones from long ago in tattered material. You think about her, your mother. Halloween was never her particular favourite, but she had a soft spot for a sweet treat. You buried her on this day. Sometimes it’s easier than others. Today it’s hard.

You’re on your porch, and your light is on. The town made different types of toys for the kids of the community, you laid yours out on the porch.

For the most part, you’re okay. It’s been long enough now that your mother’s death wasn’t always the first thing you thought of every year. But it’s in the things that catch you off guard. A child giggling with her mother over a toy that looked silly.

It’s simple. It’s sweet. It makes you nauseous.

You’re swaying in your porch swing, staring off into the distance when you hear the heavy boots of someone familiar. It shows up before his voice.

“Y’alright?”

If you weren’t so numb, you’d be startled. Instead, your eyes shift up to the man who you know well enough by now to come up on your porch without permission.

You could nod. You could pretend you are okay and have him pull it out of you until the truth pours freely from your mouth, but what’s the point? Why hide it? There had been so much of your life that was dappled in pretending to be okay, whether it was self-preservation, or sheer obstinacy to admit it.

You didn’t have it in you.

Instead, you pat the spot next to you with a shrug.

“Been better.”

Joel liked that you were honest. Not that it mattered, not that he was here to praise you for exposing vulnerable parts of yourself to him. At least not like this. It was far removed from his intentions. He knew you had someone in your life that you had to bury, and he understood what that meant.

Grief lain with you both as he took place beside you.

His warmth, overcoming, radiating into your bones.

Swallowing on the knots in your throat, you nudge your knee against his and it’s natural.

You don’t know how it became so fucking natural.

You’d kept your distance from each other for so long. It seemed appropriate. No real reason to encounter each other, but one day you noticed Joel rubbing his chest. A telltale sign that you knew well. After that, you’d become inseparable to some extent, though never quite tiptoeing any major lines. He had your back, and you had his. It felt nice to be around someone so protective. And, god, did he feel that way with you.

As if life itself had been kickstarted into his system from years of feeling like a zombie.

All the same, you didn’t have to explain yourself to him to know what you mean.

“Yeah,” Joel pauses, his heel taking over the rocking motion, back and forth on the seat you share. “Hard for me, too. Y’need anything?”

Your chin turns to gaze at him. It was hard for him, too. You imagined how difficult it was to see children with their dad. At least he had Ellie, but even she needed her space from all this.

You focus on his side profile, the scar that remains as a reminder to the life he had before this horrible reality.

Then again, the horrible reality happened when he held Sarah’s dying body in his arms.

It sends a chill through you, your fingers instinctively running into the bear paw that was his hand. Rough and calloused, yet so open and willing to take yours.

Dichotomous.

As some sort of clairvoyant, he welcomes you, knowing the conversation could be said without words.

“Nuh uh.”

Just this, you want to say.

The gravel catches your throat now, but tears don’t tempt as readily as they used to. Call it being hardened, call it time. Grief wasn’t linear, but this year had a particular sting.

That’s about the time a child and her mother come up to trick or treat for one of the toys you’ve made. And although a smile appears on your face, Joel can see the sadness at the corners of your eyes. He waits to speak until they leave.

“Opposite ends of the same coin, I guess.”

You puff out an unamused laugh, gaze cast at your lap.

“Something like that,” chewing the corner of your cheek, he squeezes your fingers when you look up at him. “It doesn’t get easier, does it?”

Joel stops the porch swing, his eyes soft but dark – as if he’s going over what he’s had to replay in his head for so many years.

“What do you think?” He echoes quietly, enough to cause you to turn and face him.

“I think… I’m glad you stopped by. I think it’s very thoughtful of you to check on me.”

“Alright, she’s gone soft,” a small smile piles at the corner of his face, and you mirror it. Hard not to. A tear falls at both of your ability to find a crack of light.

“Don’t get used to it.”

Joel exhales in amusement, rocking the two of you again. Eyes close for a minute against the crisp air of autumn.

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

It’s quiet for a while after that. Your head rests on his shoulder. His scent brings you comfort. You don’t hardly realise all the kids and their parents as they make it home.

“...Joel?”

“You’d do the same for me.”

“Will you let me thank you?”

Joel turns his head, burying his nose in your hair.

“This is enough,” squeezing your fingers, he presses a tentative kiss to your temple. One without a scar, but a temple with trouble behind it, nonetheless. “It’s more than enough.”

How could you argue with that?

taglist, comment to be added: @cool-iguana @livingdeadmaria @sinfulrock @jasminedragoon @alloftheboysivelovedbefore @nobodycanseeinsidemysoul @scarletthefierce @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin @poodlebae @its-nebuleuse @harrieandharassed @msmorningstaarr

#joel miller x you #joel miller fic #joel miller x reader #soft!joel #soft!joel miller #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x afab!reader #tlou fanfiction #tlou fic #joel tlou #tlou #the last of us hbo #joel the last of us #joel miller #pedro pascal #by bee

189 notes · View notes

readychilledwine · 6 months

Note

what do you think about azriel x autumn court reader , she is also eris’s cousin, where she is utterly obsessed with halloween/ fall and she decorates the whole house of wind with spooky decor and little pumpkins everywhere. She hides little jumpscares, yk the ones that are in grocery stores, she hides them behind closet doors so whoever opens them gets a nasty creature in their face. Like I can imagine rhysand screaming and cursing her for the jumpscare and feyre just giggles w reader

And she make everyone drink pumpkin spice stuff and claims it is a must. Reader is also in her baking era and bakes so much everyday, the second someone comes in the house, they smell delicious treats. She really channels her inner autum court girl. And during fall she really only wears her clothes from the autumn court. She gets az to visit the autumn court now that eris is high lord, and she takes him to town to drink spiced cider and caramel apples and they have the best time.😭❤️

The Last Cabin on the Left

Summary - after moving to the Night Court to be with Azriel, y/n Vanserra has strived to bring an Autumn Court Tradition to your new home, and this year you've pulled out all the stops

Warnings - spooky themes, pranks, Nyx and cousins being adorable, matching couples costumes, general fluff, Azriel dressed like a pirate

A/n - I tweaked this request a little bit, and I hope that's okay 💜

Azriel smiled as the scent of candies, pumpkin, and apple cider hit his nose.

You had done it again, and it never ceased to amaze him. The cabin you two shared on the edge of the woods was decorated to celebrate an Autumn Court Tradition you, Eris, and Lucien called Hallows Eve.

He remembered you explaining it to him passionately as you two moved pumpkins and haybales around the yard 5 years ago.

In Autumn, it was a night where children were allowed to dress up in little costumes and go door to door in search of candies and treats. It was also a night where teens and adults tended to try to scare each other through stories, pranks, and sometimes decor.

Eris flat out told them when he confirmed the tradition that you were the best conjurer on cheap scares and tricks. He had told Azriel, Rhys, and Cassian of his aunt and Uncle's party and fair they threw for the territory they looked over. It was one night where your Father, the true opposite of Beron, was able to argue that with costumes and masks, you truly could not tell who was rich, who was poor, who was greater, and who was lesser.

He couldn't help but to smile as he heard you humming softly. You were sat at the table, decorating dipped apples for the party you two were hosting tomorrow. "How's my pumpkin today?" He to moved to you, kissing the top of your head before stealing one of little hard coated chocolates you were using. "House looks fantastic."

"Thank you," You were beaming with excitement and joy, flooding it down the bond. "I wanted to make the first Hallows Eve party with Eris and Mara amazing."

Azriel flooded you back with his love, admiration, and adoration. "Did you hear who Nyx is dressing up as?"

"No baby," you added a touch of white edible sparkles to the apple you were making look like a spiderweb, "what's he coming as?"

Azriel sat down, watching with loving eyes as you hand crafted each and every element of this party to perfection. "He's coming as Cassian." You paused. "And Cassian and Lucien's boys?"

"No," you started laughing. "They're not doing this."

"Oh they are," Azriel confirmed. "Sat there while the three of them showed me and everything."

You paused slightly. "Are you going to have to loan out the shadow babies? I need them."

Azriel shook his head, smiling hard enough his dimples showed. "No, the shadow babies are all yours, pumpkin." Azriel stood, walking over to the closet to put his jacket away and you smirked, watching and waiting.

You had conjured a mirror in that closet that created the creature the person who was looking into it was most afraid behind them before it would disappear quickly.

Azriel jumped, "Mother above," and quickly slammed the door shut after throwing his jacket in. He took a few deep breaths, hands placed firmly on his knees before staring at you. "Really?"

You picked up the spider you had crafted from dark chocolate and placed it off center on its web, finishing the caramel and dark chocolate dipped apple. "There's more. My goal is to finally get Cassian this year. Hence why I need the shadow babies."

Azriel scoffed lightly. "He's used to my shadows, dove. He's not going to-" Azriel paused as you looked at him, a small devious smirk on your perfect face. "You found him."

You nodded. "I did."

Lucien and Elain were the first to arrive to you home. They were dressed like an old Autumn's tale of a phantom who haunted one of the many Opera Houses and one of his legendary victims.

Lucien looked dangerous in his black suit and cape. Half of his face was covered in the famed white mask the Phantom wore to the performances.

Elain was in the last dress the famed female performer was ever seen in, a white corset gown with a white lace robe. Her hair was curled into spirals and adorned with jewels.

Their son was tucked behind them, waiting so politely for his cousins that you could not help but melt at the sight. Or maybe it was the sight of him dressed up as a little version of Rhysand that had your handing him his first sweet for the night in a hushed tone and a wink.

Feyre, Rhys, and Nyx arrived next. The High Lord and Lady had also dressed in a matching couples costume. Rhys was in brown pants and a green tunic. He had a hat with a feather tucked into it and brown belt hanging loosely on his hips. He smiled at you as he walked in a tiny illyrian leather wearing Nyx. 7 red stones were glued in place. "He was hoping you could glamor him to have Cassian's face scars?" Rhys rolled his eyes. "I offered to do it, but you know how he loves when you do the final touches on their little outfits."

You brought Nyx close to you, and wiggled your nose, making the heir giggle. A scar appeared through his brow and lower lip, "You're still too handsome to look like Uncle Cass, baby."

Nyx got really close to you, pulling down on your dress gently, "Did you make the peanut butter chocolate covered cereal with the white fluffy sugar?"

You just nodded, handing him the same treat you had given his cousin who was squirming on Rhysand's lap, as the High Lord adjusted his jacket lapels. "Once we're in full swing, everything is free game for all of you, okay?" Nyx nodded, running eagerly to his cousin and looking over all the games and snacks you had.

Feyre appeared next to you, iridescent see through wings conjured on her back and a short green dress that looked as if it was made of layered leaves. "I heard you acquired the thing."

"I cannot confirm nor deny that there is an ancient God of fear in my home." You handed her a lemon drop secretly. "I really like the lost boy and pixie idea."

She shrugged. "Rhys just wanted me to wear this dress."

Eris and his mate entered your home next, Azriel immediately standing to hug your cousin and take their baby from them. They were also dressed as legends. The God of Death and Goddess of Spring. Eris wore a black tunic with gold jewelry wrapping his bicep as he held his mate close to him. Mara had her long blonde hair pinned up, a crown of bones and roses resting on her head. Her pink dress was adorned with flowers and pearls. She waved to you with a bring smile on her face. "How many doors should we be afraid to open?" Her bell-like voice rang. You only smiled in response. "All of them."

They had dressed their daughter in a little blue shimmering gown. Azriel walked her to you, tears lining his eyes. "Look at our good daughter," he stroked her soft cheek with one of his fingers. "Eris said they'll probably change her so we have to enjoy this while we can."

"Did you let them know we have a little room ready for her whenever?" Azriel nodded, his soft eyes never leaving her face. "We should go change, my love. Let Lucien have his niece."

Azriel handed her off before you two went up the stairs. "You are sure Nyx is okay with the shadows standing ominously behind him?" Azriel nodded, pulling out his costume and quickly changing. You could feel through the bond he desperately wanted to get back to the little Autumn Heiress.

You saw him in leather everyday, but something about him quickly changing into those loose leather pants and that open white tunic with jewelry had your heart pounding. He strapped the leather belt and weapons to his waist while staring at you. "Later, my lady. Little princess cuddles first."

He helped you get into your own costume, similar to his, being careful not to over tighten the corset you had on. You stared at the two of you in the mirror as he kissed your temple. "We should become pirates."

Azriel shook his head, smacking you playfully on the butt. "I have all the booty I need right here."

The two of you made your way back downstairs. You run up behind your nephew, grabbing Nyx and pulling him into the kitchen. "Are you ready for shadows to loom over you oh so ominously?" You tickled him gently as you asked, and he nodded eagerly.

"You promise Uncle Cass will scream?" You and Azriel nodded. "Revenge." Nyx said with a serious look. "Also. When are we doing the candy?"

Azriel ran a hand through Nyx's hair. "Soon, little bat." A sudden feminine scream had Azriel and you looking up.

Rhys had opened the door where you had created an illusion. Opening the door would cause a mist and dust like figure to appear before it began rushing towards the person standing there, deathly thin hands and fingers reached out to rip them into what appeared to be a void.

Rhys stood with his hand on his chest, eyes wide in fright. "Mother above, y/n! Why?!"

Feyre began to giggle, hiding her head in Lucien's shoulder. "You should have seen your face."

Rhys glared at his mate. "I will never understand your amusement in these things, Feyre Darling."

Eris muttered softly from next to you, surrendering his daughter once again to Azriel. He handed one of the hand-made soft caramels to Nyx and Lucien's son. "It's more the look on your face that's amusing, Rhysand Darling." He paused, looking around. "Where are our other friends?"

Azriel took a cookie, breaking it in half for the boys as their mothers fell into a deep conversation, not noticing as their sons were fed sugar. "Cassian and the girls will be here soon. Mor is in Winter with Viv. Amren is still in Summer."

Lucien rose a brow, smirking. "Still? It's been almost 2 months."

Azriel nodded. "It's not him. It's her."

"You two won't be much better," Rhys said casually as he looked between you and Azriel.

Azriel sighed, "Soon."

You perked up as the door open, smiling in an almost feral way to Eris. "And the show begins."

The Valkyries came in first, carrying a few snacks with them and adding to the table. They were all in black dresses with black corsets. Nesta had a ceremony knife strapped to her waist, Gwyn had shimmering potion bottles on hers, and Emerie had an old leather bound book. Cassian came in next with his and Nesta's son, holding his hand as he hid behind his father.

For such a loud outgoing male and a bold daring female, they had given birth to the quietest being you had ever met. You kneeled down, holding your arms out to him and he ran to you instantly. Cassian was dressed in black robes, he also carried a book of ancient spells and rituals. "Little guy is nervous over the spooky pumpkins in the yard."

You nodded, lifting your nephew as you held him close. "I'm sorry, bud." He reached for Eris, and the male took him, smiling at his little leathers with bright blue siphons.

"Did you want Uncle Azriel's shadows or no?" He nodded shyly, resting his head on Eris's shoulder. "You know, Auntie y/n bought extra pumpkins for you three to decorate tonight. We can have Auntie Fey help yours look really cool and less spooky."

Feyre's smile grew. "We could turn it into a kitty, or a carriage!"

"Can we play?" He whispered. "And have candy?"

You all nodded. "I made all three of you super special apples this year. And apple sauce for our little princess."

The boys all nodded excited, and you looked at Azriel, giving him the code to begin Cassian's torment. He made a shadowy figure appear behind Nyx, following the little heir to where you had set up games for them and little snack bags for when they got to run through the House going from room to room to collect candy. Cassian stared at the figure and then Nyx. Ignoring it at first as he socialized and got drinks for himself and his trio of witches.

His glance kept going to Nyx as the night passed and the littles played games, smiling and screaming through the House as they found each hidden scare behind the doors and collected their candy from the shadows waiting for them.

"You out did yourself and exceeded expectations once again, sister," Rhysand leaned on the counter next to you, smiling as he drank his spiked cider. "Though I would like to know why the shadows are looming over my son."

You smiled at the boys, watching as they pulled Cassian to the last door to be opened before they got to sit with their hand made candies and make smores. "Just watch, brother," Azriel said smoothly, a scarred hand running up and down your arm as he watched with a smirk.

"Daddy, please!" A tiny version of Azriel pushed Cassian towards the door. "You have to! Mommy did one!"

Cassian looked to Nesta, who nodded in confirmation. "It was a mirror, but instead of reflecting me, it was the King of Hybern holding his head."

Cassian rolled his shoulders back, popping his neck quickly and shaking his hands out. He knocked, thinking he was activating the magic to be ready, and you just smirked. He opened the door and froze before a scream echoed in the house causing Rhys to spit out his cider into the sink and cough. The room was silent, waiting for the shadowed figure to disappear, "You didn't," Rhys whispered.

"Oh, she did." Cassian backed away slowly, putting the three boys behind him just as Bryaxis disappeared. His shoulders visibly relaxed falling into a false sense of comfort as the 3 boys and Nesta began to giggle.

"He's right behind me, isn't he?" Feyre nodded, a tattooed hand covering her mouth. Cassian turned his head in a comedic fashion, whispering it was all fake, just cheap tricks you had conjured to scare the kids. "Just cheap tricks." He repeated over and over until he opened his eyes and looked up, staring straight into the looming figure of an ancient God of Terror.

"Boo," Bryaxis hissed out. Cassian screamed again, running to hide behind Nesta and leaving the three boys their holding out their candy bags.

"Trick or treat," they sang to him in unison. You all watched as the God pulled the largest candy bags you had packaged out, putting on in each bag after shifting himself into an adult sized replica of the little shadow babies behind Nyx. Bryaxis floated to Gwyneth, seeming to almost smile down at her. "You have left the library?"

She nodded. "It took some encouragement, but yes. We miss you protecting us." Bryaxis moved to Feyre, shadowy limbs moving her hair gently.

"I am ready to come home." Feyre seemed to melt on the spot. "If you will still host me." Cassian turned to Rhys, his face falling in terror as the High Lord nodded to his lady. "Did I get a window?"

"Several actually," Feyre confirmed. "You have a sky light now. It's enchanted to protect you from the sun and darken the room during the day, but allow you to see out at night and admire the stars." Bryaxis nodded, disappearing out the window and towards the House of Wind.

Cassian turned to you, "What the fuck was that for?"

You took a sip of water, "Dropping me on purpose on April Fool's Day."

Cassian opened his mouth to defend himself, but paused as he saw his son and cousin giggling as they sat in a little circle.

Eris entered the room, smiling broadly and gently pushing Lucien. "Fire is ready if the boys are." He turned to Cassian. "I thought for a second I needed to come rescue my mate when you screamed. Then I remembered her and Aspyn were next to me." Laughter erupted through the room as Cassian smirked at Eris. The two males jokingly shoved each other, smiling as they grabbed drinks.

Everyone left the room laughing as Eris and Cassian verbally picked on each other, heading to the large bonfire. You, Rhys, and Azriel stood inside, waiting for the door to shut before the High Lord turned to you two.

"I had a thought I wanted to speak to you about y/n," Rhys grabbed a handful of the trail mix you had made. "We've enjoyed this tradition so much the past few years, and if you are okay with it, I would like to introduce it to all of Velaris next year."

He paused, watching excitement set in on your face. "I just imagine the streets full of children enjoying the festivities. We do not have many holidays and traditions aimed towards them, and this truly seems to be from them more than adults."

You nodded, smile growing. "I would need you to lead the community on it. Hold meetings explaining traditions, teach the citizens how to make treats, talk to seamstresses about costume designs. Could you do that for me?"

"Yes!" You bounced in place, throwing your arms around his neck and hugging him tightly. "Of course I can!"

"You will have to do one more thing, sweetness," Rhys tilted your chin up to his face. "Nyx will never forgive me if Auntie y/n stops having her haunted cabin. I need this to continue until the boys lose interest, and even then after that for Aspyn and this little ones you two may have some day. I know it's been a discussion." He smirked at your non verbal confirmation. "Nyx will want to take part when he's older during set up and execution. He dreams about it and has little maps of ideas in his room."

You and Azriel had froze, your mate's hand and arm coming around your waist. "What gave away that we were trying?"

Rhys pointed towards your untouched cider and the candy and snacks you and Azriel had been eating all night. "She hasn't drank alcohol for the past 3 months, you have been deligated missions that keep you far from home for too long, and you, dear brother, have been even more obsessed with little Aspyn. The last click was the baggy costume instead of her being your arm candy tonight like she normally is. No one else knows that you're actively trying. I will keep it to myself until you're ready."

Rhys leaned in, kissing your forehead. "Think about my request. We will loan all the help you need. Excuse me while I go stop my wife from eating all of the marshmallows."

You and Azriel stood there, the shadowsinger placing soft kisses on your temple, then cheek, and neck. "You did a wonderful job, dove. The shadows have been whispering everyone's praises back to me all night." You smiled, turning in his arms to kiss his jaw. "Let's go get smores. I know you have been waiting for them all day."

He grabbed the bowl you had been digging in all night and your hand. The two of you smiled as Eris told the three young boys a campfire story, bouncing his daughter gently on his knee as he did.

Cassian wrapped an arm around you as you sat next to him, "Great party again, even if you scared me shitless."

"Did Rhysie tell you what he wants to do next year?" Cassian nodded. "What do you think?"

"As long as Auntie's spooky cabin continues, I'm in. Ness and I will help however we can."

"Then we should do it."

He nodded, watching as Azriel used his shadows to scare the boys at the perfect point in Eris's story. "Yes, yes, we should."

#acotar #acotar x reader #azriel acotar #azriel x reader #azriel #halloweenfics2023

272 notes · View notes

stevenose · 9 months

Text

steve-leaning audio links

below the cut are 7 steve harrington reminiscent audio links. they will direct you to soundgasm. all links were found on r/GoneWildAudio. the usernames with each link are the creators of the audios - i do not own any of these! i recommend you search them on the subreddit if you like them and give them some love!

all works have descriptions of the contents of the link. i tried to be as thorough as possible and add any tags i think necessary that the creator didn’t already put, but i may have missed something. so please keep that in mind!

all of these audios are intended for a listener with a vagina/breasts. if phrases like “good girl” are used, they’re tagged.

please note that these audios don’t necessarily sound like steve, they just remind me of him. scenarios i could see him in if you will.

a super special thank you to @cherrychilli who posted some audios a few days ago. now i’m obsessed w them and my brain is rotting (affectionate)

you must be over 18 to interact with these works or steve dies in s5. it’s true. it’s very true

don’t fucking call me daddy by u/AugustInTheWinter - m4f (male speaker, listener with a vagina): calling your roommate ‘daddy’ on purpose to make him mad, over and over, until he punishes you.

↳ mdom, roommates to lovers; shutting you up; bratty listener; degradation; choking; spitting; spanking; face fucking; thigh riding; prone; breeding; praise; corrupting speaker; contains sfx (wet fucking noises)

grinding on your bully’s thigh at a halloween party by u/LateNightFeels - m4f (male speaker, listener with a vagina); the popular girl wins a halloween costume competition, so her boyfriend makes you feel better.

↳ mdom; so mean steve coded it’s unreal; praise; degradation; thigh riding; piv; mirror sex; finger sucking; spitting; daddy kink; creampie; obviously cheating is going on in this one so be aware. it’s not heavy handed but it’s absolutely present in the dialogue.

the cute barista is actually… a hard dom? by u/Useless_Timidity - m4f (male speaker, listener with a vagina): you go on a date with the cute barista at your local coffee shop and he wants you to be submissive for him.

↳ mdom; cute and flirty that turns into rough; degradation; kissing; condescension; spanking; consent checks!; aftercare!; this is actually really cute despite how it sounds. the speaker is very much interested in your comfort. i can imagine steve being a sexy little local barista that wants to show you a good time. yk

a lakeside evening by u/ProfessorCal_ - m4f (male speaker, listener with a vagina): basically the title!

↳ friends to lovers; car sex; conversational; slow build-up; good girl; encouragement; love; affection; mutual pleasure; eating you out; cumming inside; slight dirty talk; this guy sounds like steve so much when he moans and whimpers and pants!!! contains sfx

pretty boy fucktoy by BloomingVA - m4f (male speaker, listener with a vagina): such a gorgeous rumblefap from a needy boy

↳ WHIMPERS!!!!; rumblefap; begging to breed; msub; overstimulation; self degradation/objectification; multiple orgasms; creampie; soooo needy it’s dizzying

your nice boyfriend ruins you by u/LateNightFeels - m4f (female speaker, listener with a vagina): your boyfriend comes home from work to find you using your new toy.

↳ mdom/pleasure dom; toys; restraints; praise; forced orgasms; nipple play; degredation; overstim; spanking; encouragement; creampie; use of ‘girl’ (good girl, atta girl); listener is called ‘puppy’; aftercare; despite the tags this is consensual!; contains sfx

teaching your friend to give you spank therapy by u/AugustInTheWinter - m4f (female speaker, listener with a vagina): sometimes you need some spank therapy to let off some steam, and your friend offers to help. it’s totally platonic.

↳ spanking; friends to lovers; really soft mdom; destressing; comfort; banter; fingering; use of ‘good girl’; praise; doggy style; ass play; creampie; kissing; affectionate; “just friends bro”; contains sfx; this guy’s like. little breathy growls are insane

#stevenose posts #ns/fw #steve x reader #if this makes my blog go POOF i’m not coming back fr fr

390 notes · View notes

otonymous · 2 years

Text

Caught Between a Wall and a Hard Dick (Grayson) (DC Nightwing - NSFW) - Kinktober 2022

Description:

(First posted on Pa*t*reon (pls see link in pinned post)! - early access Sept 25/22)

Kinktober 2022 Prompt #1: STUCK IN A WALL (aka kabeshiri - yeah, I had to look this one up LOL)

Warnings: NSFW/18+: Explicit/graphic language and mature themes - reader discretion is advised. Potential trigger warnings include: outdoor sex (in a sense lol), being stuck in a wall/"glory hole" type situation, some bits faintly wavering towards dub-con, mentions of masturbation, brief mention of edging

Word Count: ~3700 words (I promised myself I would keep these to 1500 words max. Didn't happen. Story of my life 😂)

Author's Note:

Hello lovelies!

Hope October is treating you well so far! 💕 Since we are dealing with more mature topics (Kinktober being the name of the game and all 🤣), please check out the warnings listed above! That being said, please know that this fic is absolutely ridiculous, and I laughed myself silly writing it. All in all, a good time was had. I hope you will have fun reading this one, my friends!

-XOXO, Otonny 🥰💕

PS: Please suspend your disbelief and just imagine for one hot second that triple woven kevlar can be ripped by the bare hands of one super horny superhero. Thanks! 🤩🤣

“Okay, on the count of three. One, two, three!“

“Ow…ow! Ouch! Stop! Nightwing, stop!”

“This isn’t working. Thank god Batman isn’t here to see this.”

“This wouldn’t have happened if Batman were here in the first place. He’d use the door, like a relatively normal person would, not try to show off by somersaulting through a hole in the wall. Stop laughing, Dick!“

“All right, I’m sorry,” Nightwing wheezes in between peals of laughter, broad shoulders shaking as he tries to catch his breath. “To be fair, no one told you to follow me through the hole. Also, ‘Batman’ and ‘normal’ have no business being in the same sentence together.”

“I thought I could make it. Clearly, I was wrong. Damn these birthing hips!”

You struggle some more, kevlar gloves gripping onto brick for purchase as you attempt to push, pull, do anything to free the lower half of your body from the wall it was currently stuck in, your ego now thoroughly bruised in light of your previous declaration that you could do anything Nightwing was capable of doing.

So when tonight’s training consisted of you keeping up with him as he raced across the rooftops of Blüdhaven, you followed close behind, fighting to keep your breath even and steady as you ran, swung, flipped and jumped, doing so well at keeping pace that even you were surprised until Nightwing jumped — no, glided — through a hole in a wall on the rooftop of an apartment building, his form so perfect, he made it look like child’s play, so easy that anyone could do it…

…or so you thought until you got stuck, reality hitting hard in the form of a vice-like squeeze about your hips by brick and cement that refused to budge.

And now, your ass was literally an easy target, vulnerable and exposed to the dark night beyond while the upper half of your body fumed at one costumed Dick Grayson, still snickering in the stairwell of the decrepit apartment complex.

“Okay, so I need a bit more training before I can come out patrolling with you. I get it. But can you please stop laughing and help pull me out before someone comes?! I don’t want to have to fabricate some weird sex fetish to explain why I’m wearing a mask and cape.”

“All right, just relax. I’m moving. Guess I’ll have to use the door this time.”

Dick draws out of sight and then you hear a click and thud, the heavy steel door echoing down the stairwell though Nightwing had done his best to let it close softly behind him.

You can sense his approach: the faint vibrations of his footsteps on the tarmac, the quiet rustle of limbs heard so faintly through cracks in the wall one might have missed it if one hadn’t been trained to listen.

You imagine Dick, his blue eyes behind the mask trained intently on your ass and you cannot keep a sudden rush of heat from rising to the surface of your skin, cheeks burning in a way you wanted to think had absolutely nothing to do with how close he was likely standing to you now, the sharp V of his hips level with your jutting rear end, scratching his chin as he contemplated how best to free you short of blowing up the wall and waking up everyone in a three-mile radius.

“Hey Nightwing, everything okay out there?”

You try to keep your voice as low as possible, but cringe at the way it still echoed in that stairwell, the acoustics absolutely perfect for a Black Canary performance.

“Ahem, uh, yeah. Just, uh, trying to figure out the best way to…dislodge you.”

“Not to seem ungrateful or demanding, but could you please hurry it up? Believe it or not, this position’s not exactly comfortable.”

And it was true. Just not necessarily in the way it would seem.

It wasn’t so much the physical strain of being bent over and stuck that presented a problem; Dick had trained you well enough in the gym and out in the field that maintaining this position for an extended period of time wasn’t an issue. Rather, it was the thought that his undivided attention was now focused on your ass; that he would have to put hands on your hips and thighs in order to free you from your prison. Even thinking about this set your nerves on edge, reminding you of the time Dick had accidentally touched your breast in the midst of practicing an aerial maneuver.

At that time, he gave no indication he had even noticed what had happened, occupied as he was on making sure he caught you before you had the chance to fall to your death on a pile of overflowing trash bins sixteen stories below.

But you, you had burned red beneath your mask, thanking god all the while for the fact that it was too dark for him to really see your face.

Although, you suppose he could with those infrared cameras he had built into his mask…

Never mind.

You weren’t going to think about that. And you definitely weren’t going to ruminate on the excitement you felt to have his hand on your breast. Or how large and manly they looked whenever he peeled his gloves off at the end of a long night of patrolling, right before reaching into the cupboard for a box of sugary kid’s cereal as a snack before collapsing into bed.

No, you were determined not to think of those twilight hours spent lying awake in the room next to his, wondering if Dick could somehow sense your heart pounding through paint and drywall as your fingers traipsed beneath the waistband of your pyjama bottoms to pretend your hand was his, rubbing insistent circles over the wetness that would inevitably pool between your legs every time you thought of him:

Dick Grayson. Nightwing. Your mentor and partner in the fight against crime.

NO.

Now is neither the time nor place, you scold yourself, steering your thoughts towards the more pressing matter of why you could no longer hear him on the other side of the wall.

“Um, Nightwing, is everything okay? Are you all right?!” you ask, panic starting to set in to think that somehow, unbeknownst to you and the upper half of your body, trouble had come calling for your partner and booty.

Though presumably, you would’ve heard something. The wall did have a hole large enough for a person to slip through (albeit not one with hips that Shakira would’ve been proud of). And Nightwing was more than capable of taking care of himself in any situation. So what, then, was the cause of the radio silence? The fact that you could no longer sense any movement behind you?

“You’ve torn your suit.”

“What?!”

Voice catching in your throat, your strangled reply echoes like a ghoul in the night. It wasn’t so much your outfit that you were concerned about — that triple woven kevlar could somehow rip without your knowledge. What you did find concerning however, was the way Nightwing was now behaving: strangely out-of-character.

“Right…” he continues, voice barely audible on the other side of the wall. “…here.”

GASP!

You clap a hand over your mouth, attempting to muffle the sound that escaped the moment you felt his touch: one long finger running along the seam that joined your skintight suit down the middle, sliding down the small of your back and over the curved crevice of your backside to close in on the heat between your legs.

You start to sweat, temperature suddenly spiking in reaction to the weird turn of events — as if the night could get any more bizarre. Holding your breath, you wait for Dick to crack a joke; say something lighthearted to ease the tension like he could always be counted on to do. Except this time, he doesn’t. This time, he says:

“This is dangerous. Your suit is compromised. We need to fix this. Immediately.”

Different. Darker. Dick’s voice is even lower now in both tone and volume, so much so that you have to strain your ears to hear him. The measure of his words is slow and sure, and it makes you twitch, hips shifting in an animal inclination to wiggle your ass in order to please him.

“Wh-what do you suppose we do?” you ask, palms planting on your side of the brick wall so as to exaggerate the curve of your back.

In your mind’s eye, you imagine Dick’s breath catching — much the same way it did that time he accidentally caught you running naked from the shower to your bedroom because it was laundry day and you had forgotten to replace the towels in the bathroom you shared as roommates.

For a moment, he had stood frozen: mouth open and blue eyes fixed to your bare breasts, the creamsicles he had left the apartment a few minutes ago to procure for the two of you dripping down both hands. And then, he had abruptly turned his back to you, muttering something about chasing down ice cream trucks that didn’t want to stop.

But you had caught it: the desire in his eyes.

Undeniable, like the flush creeping up his cheeks or the tent in his jeans before he spewed “Sorry-i-didn’t-see-anything” and ducked into his room, pulling the door closed behind him with his foot because he was still holding on to two melting lumps of citrus-flavoured ice cream.

It was the elephant in the room. The big, unspoken cloud that constantly hung over the two of you when you weren’t preoccupied with discussing training plans or the moves of petty criminals and supervillains, a topic neither dared to broach because it would make things way too messy, too complicated…

…too good to be true?

Was it really too good to be true? And if so, how good? you can’t help thinking, having left the ball in Dick’s court and waiting with bated breath for his next move.

“I think there’s only one thing to do to get you out of this sticky situation.”

More rustling of limbs behind you. Perhaps your partner moving in close, kneeling to get a better look at what he was dealing with. Which could only mean one thing:

Dick’s face was now in your ass.

He touches you and you jolt, feeling the slip of his finger through the rip in your suit, right at the junction of your thighs. You wonder if Dick could feel it — the soaked gusset of your panties. But the suspense lasts for all of a second before he mutters,

“God, you’re wet,”

and adds a second finger to the first, Nightwing gripping onto your suit to tear it down the middle in one swift motion, exposing your flimsy panties to the night.

Throb.

Legs growing weak, you lose your balance for a moment, falling into the brick at the waist. Your clit pulses at what had just transpired, ushering in a new wave of wetness that threatens to spill down your thighs.

“There. Now that part of your suit has been removed, try squeezing through the hole on your side.”

It was bullshit and you knew it. The suit was thin to begin with; shaving off a few millimetres wasn’t going to do much. But you obey regardless, moving your hips from side to side in a manner so suggestive you felt your nipples harden to think of the effect it must’ve been having on Dick.

“Like this?”

Laying it on thick, you feign innocence in an attempt to see how far the charade would take you.

“Yeah, just like that. But it’s not good enough. I think we ought to get rid of this too.”

And just like that, your panties fall away with another unceremonious rip.

“There. Spread your legs. Wider. Yes, like that. Try moving now.”

It was insanity.

How his instructions aroused you so, even with Dick’s voice muffled and muted behind a brick wall. You couldn’t see him, and he had barely even touched you aside from doing what he needed to do to tear off your panties and the bottom half of your suit. And yet, he had you on edge, every shake and tremble of your body foreshadowing a climax so intense it threatened to make you scream so loudly it would wake everyone in the building.

The evening air blew cool across your skin, a contrast with the wet heat radiating out from between your legs, obediently spread for your mentor’s inspection; a crude reminder that you had an audience.

So you put on a show, exaggerating the arch of your back as you walk your hands further down towards the base of the wall, playing up the angle of your ass in an attempt to beckon, to entice…

…to prod Dick into crossing the tension-filled line the two of you had been toeing for months now.

“It’s still not working. I think I need a push. A thrust from behind.“

There. The final nail in the coffin.

All Nightwing needed to move.

You can hear it, sense it; the flurry of activity as a half-step brings him towards you: the cool sensation of Dick’s dark suit as he pressed his hips into your bare skin, the familiar sound of a glove slipping off before his palm is resting on the small of your back, a shudder of breath rising from the cavity of his chest, escaping in a soft hiss the moment he feels the touch of you, skin to skin.

He really was so obvious.

“Are you sure about this? I-I can always try the explosives, if you want—“

And a gentleman through and through.

“Just fuck me, Dick Grayson.”

Another intake of breath, sharp this time, and Nightwing’s moan transforms into a growl, low and guttural. You bite down hard onto your lower lip, doing your best not to draw blood though it was imperative that you did not scream. But the feeling of Dick’s lips on your body — tracing kisses in arcs that rounded the flesh of your ass before traversing the sensitive skin of your inner thighs — made it difficult not to, especially when they grew in urgency, his tongue extending to lap the length of your slit, the heat of his breath combining with an appreciative hum that you felt more than heard, thrumming through your core.

“Ohmygod, ohmygod, ohmy—“

You barely recognized the sound of your own voice: pitched high and growing in desperation by the second in a way you knew would make you cringe later on to remember when you were dressed more casually in a t-shirt and jeans. Because there was no way you’d ever forget the way this felt: Dick’s tongue laving slow before flicking fast across your swollen clit, the man’s mouth on your pussy nothing less than pure magic in the way he brought you just to the edge of orgasm before backing off, teasing you in this way over and over again.

They said he was a pretty boy with a face too handsome to shoot, a man who had no trouble scoring even after having made some bad life decisions, like wearing green pixie boots, or even sporting a mullet. It didn’t hurt either that he could easily count his rear end among his best “ass”-ets: pert and ample and shapely enough to fill out his suit like nobody’s business. But it was only now that you were realizing that when it came to Nightwing, looks were only a tiny part of the equation.

Because the way he worked you over was almost criminal — sinful with how good it felt to be at his complete mercy that you were actually thankful to have gotten stuck. Having sat himself between the wall and your thighs, Dick ate you out with gusto, his fingers busy kneading the flesh of your ass when they weren’t sliding into your pussy, taking turns in competing with his tongue to see which could elicit the most salacious moans from your lips.

“Better keep it quiet over there. Don’t wanna wake the neighbours.”

The smirk is obvious in the voice of the hypocrite who shamelessly chose to ignore the wet sounds he himself was producing with his head between your legs, Dick lapping with abandon as his fingers gripped onto your hips, encouraging you to rest more of your weight onto that handsome face.

Your breasts ache within the confines of your suit, sorely missing the action on the other side of the wall. In desperation, you touch yourself, trying in vain to feel pinches and caresses through material that just refused to give. Frustration mounting, you accidentally let out a petulant whine — much to your horror.

Whining was never your thing.

But then again, neither was having sex through a hole in a wall.

“Baby, if you wanted more, just ask.”

Baby? BABY?! Did having midnight sex on a rooftop in the heart of Blüdhaven mean that you and Dick were at the point where terms of endearment were allowed? Also, how was it possible that the word sounded a million times sexier coming from his mouth?!

Dick pulls away and there is more shuffling, more movement. You imagine him pulling down the bottom half of his suit until it sits below the diamond-cut V of his hips, the sleek black second-skin hugging the rounded curves of his perfect glutes. You imagine his tights bunched around the bulky musculature of his thighs, the same ones you covertly juiced over every time it was leg day at the gym.

You had always wondered whether he wore underwear beneath that unforgiving suit, and if so, how it was even possible for him to hide those lines. For now, however, you were content with settling for the image of Dick Grayson pulling out his, well, dick, and slowly stroking from base to tip and back again, a smile on his lips as he contemplated the messy smear of your wet pussy, spread wide and waiting beneath the hazy glow of the city’s ambient light.

“You ready for your second lesson of the night?” he asks.

“Second lesson? What was the first?”

“Not to jump through holes in walls unless you’re absolutely sure you can make it.”

You’re so lucky I’m horny as fuck right now, you grit your teeth. “Right, of course, Professor Nightwing. And what’s the second lesson?”

“I’m gonna teach you how to be quiet in any situation. Now get ready for a pop quiz.”

THRUST!

Gasp!

You almost choke on it; the air that catches in your throat the moment Dick enters you fully with a single thrust of his powerful hips. You can feel him, the base of his cock flush against your body, your walls pulsing in reaction to the sudden intrusion of his length, his hardness, his girth, Dick’s fingers spreading your cheeks wider as he attempted to bury himself even further.

“Keep quiet now. Not a peep, understood? Or else it’ll be an F for you. And I know you don’t like to fail. Isn’t that right, teacher’s pet? Yes, that’s what I thought. Such a good kitty.”

Dick reaches down as he says this, hand between your legs; petting and teasing as his fingers skirt over your clit in an attempt to see how wet you could get, how tightly your walls could squeeze around him.

He settles index and thumb in a crescent about the circumference of his cock as he picks up speed, savouring the feel of your delicate skin stretched thin and wide around his body, every stroke dislodging more and more of your mutual arousal, the creamy evidence eliciting a guttural moan from the man that you considered entirely unfair when you were forced to keep quiet in a stairwell that possessed the acoustics of an opera house.

“This feels incredible. You are incredible,” Nightwing sighs, stopping to pull back for a moment, as if to admire the sight of your pussy trembling from his administrations, right before diving back in with renewed speed and vigour to make you clench both hands into fists, biting your lower lip until it was blanched of blood. “God, I could fuck you all night. All day too, for that matter.”

Dick Grayson had always been chatty. Apparently, sex was no exception. It made you blush; every sweet, filthy word falling from his lips adding so much to the lasciviousness of the situation that you weren’t sure which turned you on more: the way his cock managed to hit just the right angle at just the right time, or the way he played with your mind, his verbal calisthenics every bit a match for his physical prowess.

And though you did your best to stay quiet on your side of the wall, the lower half of your body was a different matter — arousal made obvious to your partner with every slick slide of his cock in and out of your body, the wet sounds of your copious juices dripping down to smear the insides of your thighs and across the hard, muscular plane of Dick’s groin.

Nightwing was right. It felt incredible. Even when stuck in a wall, he could��ve fucked you all day and night and you’d still want more, eager and willing to take him deeply into yourself, to have Dick do whatever he wanted with you. Because you trusted him like you trusted no other:

You trusted him with your life.

And perhaps it is this very thought that sends you, makes you feel free to let go; stepping off the ledge of control to let the most intense orgasm of your life take you.

Dick fucks through it: pushing through the clenching pulse of your walls around him, your pussy milking his cock as he neared his own completion.

But not before he gives you one hard, final thrust from behind.

Because Nightwing — always dutiful, always resourceful — would never leave his partner hanging, stuck in a brick wall with her bare ass exposed.

And right before you pass out from the arrival of a second orgasm coming fast on the tail end of the first, you feel it:

Your hips finally sliding through the hole…

…and your head meeting the ground.

And one Dick Grayson muttering:

“Oh shit.”

Ahahahaha!! Hope y'all enjoyed that ending! 🤣 Thank you so much for reading till the very end! Much love to each and every one of you! For more juicy reads, please check out my P*a*t*reon page (please see link in pinned post)!

👀👉🏼 Feel free to peep the Masterpost here!

-XOXO, Otonny 💖🥰

(Illustration taken from Nightwing Cover #88 by Bruno Redondo)

#nightwing #dick grayson #nightwing smut #nightwing fic #dick grayson smut #dick grayson fic #batfam #batfam fic #dc universe #dc comics #dc #my writing #kinktober 2022 #dc smut

2K notes · View notes

lorena12me · 9 months

Text

A little fanart drawing for @polarspaz for his amazing CarrionAU of Tim Drake and the Batfam, omg I LOVE the batfamily designs for this AU and the story!!! gods i love the story!!!

I couldn't stop imagining what the battle was like in which they managed to capture Jason. In his description, Jason was killed by the Joker and revived and Brutalized by the League of Assassins, and then released in Gotham where he unleashed a violent crime spree involving civilians as well, due to being poisoned by the well of lazarus and the indoctrination-torture of the Al Ghul and that the whole family had to combine in order to overcome him from his furious rage.

-.-.-.-.--.-

I just couldn't stop imagining headcanon about the context of the battle, :

Ok, so I figured if Jason showed up in Gotham unleashing such a violent massacre wearing the Red Hood helmet and fully covered, the Batfamily would move very quickly (and violently) to eliminate the threat, leading them to focus on stopping the new one. rogue (murder him) caring more about stopping him permanently than finding out his identity. Also, I don't think the good people left in Gotham would accept Red Hood as one of their anti-heroes if they knew he was the one who did all that violence, so I thought the Red Hood costume with the helmet would come after to help him recover from the madness of the pit. Ok, so that's why I drew the Red Hood in the Young Justice ninja outfit, because it would be easier for the mask he wears to be snatched or broken during some fight against Batfam and they could see that he wasn't just a common rogue but Jason revived, so they would decide not to be completely lethal with him, but to capture him to verify that he is Jason and help him.

Tim is not in the picture due to being a stealth-ranged fighter who is using his poison darts to try to overload the well's ability to heal Jason.

I'd really love to know what Polarspaz's thoughts are on how they captured and helped Jason though! Also a bit about Damian because the idea that he murdered Talia to escape the abuse is so interesting!!, Tim is my favorite character, but everyone else is so incredibly cool and I can't help but want to know more about them.

Thank you so much for creating so many amazing AU's

#tim drake #red robin #carrionau #fanart #polarspaz au's #jason todd #cassandra cain #bruce wayne #dick grayson #nigthwing

351 notes · View notes

gentlebeardsbarngrill · 2 months

Text

02/13/2024 Daily OFMD Recap

TLDR; Kudoboard; CaseyBloys/David Zaslav Shenanigans; Cast&CrewSightings; Samba Schutte; Con O'Neill; Ruibo Qian; Wendy Andersen; In Person Events; WatchParties; LubeAsACrew; People of Earth; Articles; Netflix WooAsACrew; Love Notes;

== Kudoboard Last Chance ==

Throwing this up top so you don't forget-- anyone who wants to add anything to the Kudoboard please message me tonight so I can get you the password to post. I'll be up for the next two hours so we've still got time.

== Casey Bloys ==

Whelp, Casey Bloys stepped in it again by posting an article by The Wrap about how True Detective was the most watched season on max. As you can imagine, a good chunk of the crew started calling BS on that, what with the Parrot Analytics stats from yesterday. Well, some of our favorite hashtags started trending this morning... #OhBloysHeMad and #TheNumbersWereThere

And in case you needed to see some more data that Bloys was full of crap--- Thank you to our dear friend @quirkysubject for pulling in Rotten Tomatoes Average Tomato-meter Ranking in with the Parrot Analytics Data in this awesome chart!

Not terribly long after, apparently the comments on The Wrap article really started to irritate ol Casey boy because he turned off comments on the post.

BUUUUUUT Our dear crewmate @spanishjenkies was kind enough to save a video before hand! So there's evidence of the trolling. Visit their twitter thread here.

Some of the crew has decided to go a bit further with the glorious Passive Aggression and started sending Casey Bloys gifts! @single_cat_mom sent him a Casio Compact Calculator to help him with his future numbers!

Annnnd our crewmate @ofmooshd got a cockroach at the zoo named after ol Casey Bloys!

Truly legendary levels of Polite Menacing today, m'dears! What a day!

In other WB/Max related news:

Did you know there's a petition to get this ... person... fired? If you wanted to sign that, here you go: Only if you wanted to of course.

== Cast & Crew Sightings ==

= Samba BTS =

Samba went hog wild today with the BTS, some lovely folks on tumblr posted the videos. (THANK YOU SAMBA!)

Just a couple of highlights, please visit this post to see all the pictures. You can also visit Samba's IG.

BTS Video 1: Cast Reading - ty @fuckyeahworldoftaika,

BTS Video 2: Con & Rhys - @fuckyeahizzyhands

BTS Video 3: Izzy Flipping the Bird - @fuckyeahizzyhands

= Con O' Neill =

As usual, our favourite Unicorn, Con O'Neill is over here supporting the hell out of the saveOFMD effort and sharing the Parrot Analytics results.

= Ruibo Qian =

Our Venerable Pirate Queen Ruibo Qian is back on Instagram with more inspiring words for us.

= Wendy Andresen for #TaikaTuesday =

So I know that normally #TaikaTuesday is a thirst factory (and don't worry it still was) but I just had to make a shoutout to our absolute gem Wendy Andresen (one of our Red Flag crew) for posting a picture of her pup Peanut cosplaying as Taika for #TaikaTuesday.

For those of you unfamiliar with the reference shirt:

She was kind enough to post more too when asked!

I adore how much she supports the #SaveOFMD effort and she is always a delight to chat with. Sending all the love her way! <3

== In-Person Events! ==

Today at the Our Flag Means Death Matelotage Processional several of our crewmates came out in costume with signs and showed support at the WB Gates! Thanks to all the crew who attended! Thank you @aimeekitty for sharing these pictures! Their IG and Twitter

== Watch Parties ==

= Lube As A Crew =

It's baaaaack! Valentine's Day: 4PM PST, 8 PM ET, 12:00 AM GMT S1 Ep 8, 9 10 with @astroglideofficial

If you've bought Astroglide recently please consider doing some reviews! They would love the support. You can @Astroglide and use #ReviewAsACrew

As you can imagine, the memes are back too <3

== Feb 15: Uncle Season 1 ==

This is mainly for UK folks but non-uk folks are welcome to vpn in as well! Here's an article on how to join via vpn!

Thurs 02/15/2024 + Friday 02/15/2024 - GMT - 8 PM, ET - 3 PM, PST - 12pm

WatchParty Hashtags:

#ForTheNewUncle

#SaveOFMD

#AdoptOurCrew

== People Of Earth S1 Ep 5, 6 ==

#PiratesOfEarth has been going great these last couple days! Thank you again to @iamadequate1 for organising it! Next episode 5 and 6 tomorrow the 14th! at 10PM GMT / 5PM EST / 4PM CST / 2 PM PST /

== Netflix #WooAsACrew Video ==

More love for the streaming platforms! 🌹💕🐙 Vocals: @sgtbeatlespotter Video: @giulianaazr on Twitter

youtube

== Updated #WooAsACrew Calendar! ==

Looks like tomorrow the goal is to WOO FX! Twitter / Instagram / Tumblr Tomorrow is also a great day to be creative! Make some cakes! Or flowers, or drawings! Anything! Let's see some sweet stuff!

== Articles ==

Have we seen this one? I can't remember anymore, some more Parrot Analytics from January. Ty to @drcfxtina on discord for sharing!

== Uk Crew Updates ==

Thank you to @queerly-autistic for capturing this! Guess who's front and center on the top recommendations? You guessed it! OFMD!

== Love Notes ==

Hey there lovelies!! Guess what time it is? I've had too much caffeine and I've taken my adhd meds on time so I'm Here, Queer, and ready to Cheer!

Look at everything you all did today! Do you see this list? And that's just a minuscule coverage of the pure polite chaos that ensued! I literally cannot add any more pictures because just so much has happened. We are 36 days in the Gravy Basket and you all are just ramping things up!

The tenacity, and creativity of this crew never ceases to amaze me!

There are more fundraisers in the works... (I'll post more when I know more) there's a slew of events, watch parties, and pure camaraderie everywhere! Everyone's making amazing memes, and artwork and fics! Seriously, you all should be proud of yourselves!

Not to mention, some of the most important things of all-- I am seeing SO MUCH SELF CARE. You are reaching out to the crew for support, you're taking days off, you're having fun and being creative for you... getting back to pet projects and doing things you enjoy!

You all are doing SO WELL. You are kicking ass, don't forget that! We'll have our down days, but no matter what you are making waves all over the place, bringing positive things to this world! As a side note, I wanted to mention, I know tomorrow can be a tough day for a lot of people. It can be lonely, or bring up good or bad memories. Please be sure to reach out to your crew for love if you're struggling. We love you, and even if it's a platonic love, it's overflowing here for you. You are wonderful, and we want to send you all the love we can.

That being said, I'm gonna end tonight with another note from @thelatestkate that I needed to hear a lot recently so I'm gonna share it with you too <3

You got this! Sending so much love m'dears!

== Daily Darby / Tonight's Taika ==

These were the two gifs that murdered me today so I hope you enjoy. These goofy buggers always make my day.

Rhys Src: @bizarrelittlemew Taika Src: @ofmd-ann

91 notes · View notes

thephantomsdream · 28 days

Text

So I just have this idea in mind about a meet-cute with our dearest John.

[Notes: I am writing this at work, and it is raining, and no, I have no costumers, and yes, it is self-indulgent because why not. We're just vibing and dumping cute stuff with some spell-checking, but I could've missed something so I do apologize for that. No use of Y/N or Reader in this one.]

Imagine it's raining where you are right now and you work dealing with customers somehow, yeah? Anyway, John is in the city for work, as always, and he coincidentally entered your workplace. He's smitten, not gonna lie. I see him as the type of man to know, you know? Hell, he'll look at you and you'll also feel the want too, the way he's seizing you up, almost as he is planning how to slowly kiss you. I swear you can feel his warm and rugged hands running over your body, but you have to act professional because he's hot and you're most likely looking too much into things.

But you're actually not, yeah? He smiles at you, a little small smile, blue eyes flicking between your eyes and lips. And god, he fucking looks into your soul. If you have time to talk to him, he'll definitely ask you about yourself while telling you some things about himself, vague but enough to satisfy curiosity. It's also raining, meaning you don't have many costumers, so the conversation goes and he runs it smoothly. It's effortless, the way he talks to you and makes you comfortable. Yes, definitely, you can tell he's flirting with you, but contrary to some younger men, he's calm, he's not pushy, although he is a little in your space. Just a little intense, and you can tell he's like that all the time. Close enough for you to smell his cologne, close enough to hear his voice rasp as he finishes his sentences as he's a little bit distracted by your lips. When you notice and smile, he does too, naturally, happy to get a good reaction out of you.

But everything stops when he gets a message. His lips purse and he grunts, shoving the phone in his pocket and smiling at you, disappointment in his eyes. He sees you get busy as a client walks in, a little sad he has to leave and can't even say goodbye properly, but he reaches for something in his pocket.

"I insist. You said you didn't grab one when you left home, yeah? Take it, love." He says, pushing his damp umbrella in your hand. It was velvety and sturdy, and his hand brushed yours in the right way. Not too much, but enough to get an idea of how warm he was.

"John, really, you don't have to do this. How will you go back?" You'd question.

"Nonsense, I have my coworkers waiting for me close-by and afterwards I won't need it anymore." He did say he'd have to leave the city, showing no sign of wanting to ask you about... anything, really. No number, no proper full name, no social media. Maybe it was just meant to be a very pleasant conversation with just a costumer. It didn't help that you couldn't bring yourself to ask either.

You accept bashfully, smiling at him when he seemed relieved and happy to have you take his small gift. You then wished him a good journey to wherever he's heading. And good luck with everything.

It did look like the man wanted to say more than a simple "Thank you, dove." but he stopped himself with a nod then headed out. Basically rushed, honestly. It did throw you off, how interested he was and just how fast it suddently finished.

Rain stopped not long after and you didn't need the umbrella that day, ending up at home, put away somewhere safe. At least you got a good quality umbrella out of this ordeal, yet you couldn't stop thinking about him.

That story now behind, spring came full force and the rain did not come back until almost three months later.

Weather app lied, it seems, as you glanced outside the store and saw zero rain, and you sighed, having carried your (new and fancy) umbrella around with you all this time. As your eyes studied the outside scenery, someone walked through the front door and you already plastered your "Welcome, dearest costumer" smile when it faltered a little in surprise as you recognized the man that entered rushing in the store. Of course you would, as if you stopped thinking about him. As of today, you were slowly starting to think less about the mysterious John, having to accept that he was just passing by and that you were a little encounter in his busy life. But he was here. In your store. Again. Looking for something. Or someone...

Rushing through the door, almost out of breath, he scanned his surroundings in a milisecond to spot you already watching him. The relief was prominent on his features, making you feel excited? He looked relieved to see you, then he immediately looked a little hesitant, unsure. As if his legs brought him there before he could think it through, although it didn't take long for him to smile at you.

"Been a while, yeah?" God, his voice was even better slightly breathless.

You eagerly get to talking again, his chest puffed and his back stood straighter when you easily told him that of course you remember him because how could you not, really? Conversation was just a tad awkward, him searching in your eyes for something while trying to play it cool.

He pointed out the entrance with a small nod of his head and smiled as you both watched a few shy droplets of water finally hit the dry floor, seconds later it starting a downfall. His eyes locked back onto your face and he asked a simple "I trust the umbrella's been handy?" and to that you smile, explaining how you never got to use it but coincidentally, it was now hanging out in the back with your purse, since finally it was supposed to rain again (Weather App redeemed). To that he just looks at you, expression morphing from shock, to relief to amusement.

He had this way of commanding a room, having people wait for him to react and this would be the first time you'd notice a quirk of his as you yourself held your breath, seeing he was about to say something. He'd take a sharp breath, tilt his head and take a small step forward when he was going to say something intense, something from the bottom of his heart and guts.

"Would I be a fool to ask you on a date, love?" He'd swoop the the rug under your feet with that and continue. "Because I was a fool once to try to act subtle and I almost missed my chance." He laughs at something, something that will turn into a light-hearted joke between you.

As you stutter a yes, you also ask him what he meant. You weren't an idiot, he was interested few months back, but he never made a move, not even a subtle one, just rushed out. Just like that. Poof.

Funny, huh? How he slipped his number on a small piece of paper in the umbrella, thinking it would be cute for it to fall out as you open it. Also, he didn't want to bother you anymore at work, specially since you already had some costumers and he already took so much of your time. (They could've waited, but whatever. Ugh, that mindful dumbass.)

The first time you made him stutter was exactly after he explained that to you, as you raised a brow at him and asked. "What if I used the umbrella in a rush, in pouring rain and I'd never see the piece of paper fall?" It was indeed a question he surely asked himself afterwards a couple of thousands of times in the dead of the night, berating himself for it, yet he still didn't have a good answer for that, hence the stutter and the absolutely fucking adorable shade of pink painting his cheeks for a couple of seconds there.

The way John sees it is that he spent two months waiting for a message, a call, anything. He sometimes couldn't attend his phone but made sure that the number he gave you was always available, even if he couldn't answer immediately. Hell, he even pulled through missions faster to come back to base and look at the device and be greeted with disappointment. It took him a few weeks to accept that you weren't going to contact him and acceptance started to hit, although John can't really let it go before thinking of all the what-ifs imaginable (after some more weeks of sulking silently), so of course he checked the weather in your area after he left you. And of course he saw that in fact it did not rain again, yet he couldn't be sure if it rained that same day, and if it did, how much. Records weren't that clear in your specific area.

He needed to know if you found the paper or not. It was all he had to know. John Price was left stumped and in need of answers. Answers he came to get because John Price knew the moment he saw you that it would be too good to let go.

You had to check yourself, it didn't matter that it was at work with him there. You went back, grabbed the umbrella and opened it, and surely enough, with his observant eyes studying every single one of your movements as he followed right behind, you watched in fascination as a small piece of paper fell swaying side to side in its descend, as if mocking you.

"00xx-xxxx-xxxxxxx"

"I'd love to hear from you again. Call me anytime. John."

As you'd tell this story to anyone who asked you two how you met, you'd roll your eyes at John any single time. He called it fate, said the wait was worth it to see you watch that paper fall out of the umbrella, meanwhile you ways end up calling him an idiot. Lovingly. For such a bright man, he was indeed an idiot. Your idiot thought. (In his defense, it was the only time he ever attempted subtleties with you, learing his lesson and all.) One thing for sure? The story never ceased to bring a smile on your face.

#cod x reader #cod x you #john price x reader #john price x you #price x reader #john price #captain price #price #price x you #call of duty x reader

80 notes · View notes

sherlockscumslut · 11 months

Text

Being Diluc's maid...

18+ only. No plot at all, fem!reader, Master x maid role-play, soft!dom Diluc, established relationship, use of "Master", pet names [sweetheart], praise, squirting, vaginal fingering, Diluc is a little perv in this, standing position, doggy, spanking (once), creampie, cervix fucking, slight breeding kink (writer is fighting breeding kink allegations and it's not going well help).

Word count: 1413

Outfit inspiration (sfw link)

My AO3

More Genshin Thirst series

A/n: I know I promised Tighnari (since he won the poll with 38%) but have a Diluc instead. I hope you don't feel like you just lost your pity to him lol. Leave Tighnari for some other time.

Likes and/or reblogs are much appreciated 💙

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

It's a quiet early morning in Dawn Winery. A place you never imagined you'd be at this hour of the day let alone sleeping on Diluc's king-sized bed. It feels like a dream waking up next to him every single day, so unreal that it makes you laugh about how awkward your relationship was at first. How awkward your first time was but also very passionate.

Feelings that get ignored or suppressed for a long time often lead to self-torture for both parties. On the other hand though, those suppressed feelings can lead to the best sex one can have.

Diluc's side is empty. You fell asleep early last night and didn't get to see what time he came back. Leaving you all by yourself was not of his character but man is busy guarding Mondstadt every night.

As you make your way downstairs in your nightgown, you see Diluc laying awake on the couch in his black robe.

"So here you are...did you sleep on the couch last night?" You asked as you approached him.

"Good morning, Miss. Yes, I slept here last night. Where else should I sleep?"

You shook your head. "What? Why didn't you come to bed? Is everything okay?"

"I don't think you understand Miss. And why don't you wear your uniform?"

His scarlet eyes showed genuine confusion, looking at your nightgown and then back at you.

"My...my uniform?"

"Did you check the closet in your room?"

It took you a moment to understand. He's in a playful mood and you decided to play along.

"I'm sorry, I didn't check. I will be back shortly."

"...Master." He empathized and winked at you.

Your stomach fluttered like the very first kiss. You couldn't believe that he actually slept on the couch for role-play's sake.

You ran upstairs and checked in the closet. Indeed, there was a white paper box with a black ribbon. A maid outfit was inside. "Hmm, so Master Diluc wants to have fun with a maid this time uh?" You thought out loud while putting the outfit on.

On the other side of the room, there was another closet full of costumes that you both wear from time to time to satisfy your fantasies.

Diluc loves that one nun costume he got you but it is not revealing at all. Just a regular nun costume, long and proper as it should be but something snapped in him when he saw you wearing it and acting in the role.

His voice still rings in your ears, praying to the Archons for forgiveness and thanking them at the same time for bringing him such a good proper girl. The memory is enough to arouse you. It's been a while since you put on a costume to satisfy your man.

"I'm back." You said as you approached him.

"You're missing something methinks..." He said without looking at you.

"I'm back, Master." You empathized.

"Come here, let me see you..." He waved his hand.

Diluc couldn't get his eyes off you. It almost felt like he wanted to devour you on the spot but he had planned it all so well and was willing to let himself suffer a little more before touching you.

"I was very sleepy last night and I might have accidentally stained the small carpet under the coffee table over there with grape juice. Mind if you take a closer look?"

"Yes, Master." You said and got on your knees with your thighs exposed and your ass barely covered with a black string.

"I don't think you're looking at the right spot, Miss." Diluc said, trying to keep you in place so he could stare at your ass for a bit longer.

"But Master, the stain is right here...on the edge of the carpet!"

"My fault, I know. I'm sorry if this is tough for you...Let me help you move the coffee table and get this carpet clean."

"No, it's...it's okay, Master. I can do it myself."

You tried to tease him but he was already on his knees behind you, still in his black robe.

"So you don't need my help?" His question sounded so genuine it almost felt like he wasn't just playing.

"Seems like I got myself an ambitious maid..." He continued and drew the black string far up. You flinched at the sensation of it sticking between your ass and pussy lips.

"Aah! Master..."

"Such strong-willed maids need to be rewarded, don't you think?"

His slap on your ass echoed in the room. It was strong enough to leave a red stamp on it and make you wetter than you already were.

"Master...do I really deserve such a reward?"

"Why you ask? You don't believe you're good enough? In that case...spread your legs for me."

His finger slipped inside you with ease and Diluc didn't hesitate to put another one. You felt your legs getting weaker with each movement of his finger inside you, curling and pressing over your sensitive spot.

The wet sounds of your pussy and your soft sighs were testing Diluc's patience who was at his breaking point.

"Hahh...just fuck me already..." You breathed out.

Diluc's fingers let go of your pussy and the view of your hole clenching on nothing sent shivers down his spine. He leaned over your back and kissed you on the lips. A sloppy yet passionate kiss while his hands squeezed your breasts over the fabric of the costume.

"This is your reward for being such a good maid for Master."

He didn't tease. He started to thrust in you slow and steady, feeling your velvet walls sucking his cock in, already to cum in any minute.

Diluc felt you were also close. His one hand was stroking your nipple while the other gently circled your clit.

You squeezed your thighs together and squirted all over his cock, your juices wetting his belly button. The warmth of your squirt and the whimpers that escaped your mouth got Diluc pressing your waist down on his cock, releasing his hot cum deep inside you.

You knew he wasn't done with just one round. Not when he plotted a whole scenario to get you all dress up.

[...]

"Now Miss, could you please clean the bookshelf over there?" He pointed at the other side of the room.

"Yes, Master." You said and got up, freeing yourself from his hands on your hips. Diluc followed you.

He sat on a chair near you, naked under his untied robe. He let his long red hair down and watched as his cum leaked in between your thighs, making him ready for another round.

You minded your business completely unbothered, letting him enjoy his favorite view. Deep down you knew you weren't satisfied either and decided to revive the flame in him.

"Master, I'm afraid I can't reach this spot."

"Hmm? Does my little maid need some help?" He grabbed you by the waist and slightly lift you up.

"Can you reach it now?"

"I think I need to lift me a little more, Master." You bit your lip.

"A little more huh? Well, how about this?"

He grabbed your thighs and lift you up, his nails almost piercing through your soft skin.

Drops of his cum were still leaking out of you as your legs were wide open. You felt his hard cock pressing on your sensitive clit and you whimpered as he teased you by sliding you up and down, your juices and his cum lubricating his cock.

This time he didn't slow down. He moved as fast as he could, trying not to let you fall off his arms. Your hands desperately tried to find something to hold on to. Maybe the books weren't a good idea as they started to fall on each side of the bookshelf due to Diluc's rapid movements.

He could reach so deep in your cervix in that position, making you scream his name as you were close to climax. Diluc had buried his face in your neck, his hair tickled your chin.

"You feel so good, sweetheart. I can't get enough of you...Hmmm...makes me wanna fuck a baby in you so much."

"Diluc!...I mean, Master!! I...ahhh!"

"Answer me, do you want it?"

"Yes, yes, Ma...ster..."

Diluc kissed you on the lips, shooting his seed straight into your womb. Regardless of how much leaked out again, you were happy to know that he thought of starting a family with you.

《 THE END 》

! Do no repost or translate !

Aft* Life is so hard 😭 I wish I was a maid in Dawn Winery so I could serve Diluc everyday and get my holes filled with his kids in return 😓

* Author's final thoughts

#genshin impact #diluc genshin impact #diluc smut #diluc scenarios #diluc ragnvindr #diluc x you #diluc x reader #diluc x y/n #genshin x reader #genshin scenarios #genshin fanfic #genshin x you #genshin smut #genshin imagines

285 notes · View notes

moralesmilesanhour · 3 months

Text

if you believe in me - 04.2

summary: a very brief intermission. between aaron and his father, miles wonders who he takes after more. wc: 1.5k a/n: this chapter is me trying to get back into the swing of things before the next major plot point (!!!) so this might feel a little slower and more introspective. thanks for reading! (reblog with ur favorite comic or manga if u want idk) taglist: @shuna-boin @aloraangelix @vhstown @sillykirb @proudgojofucker @weirdducky17 @milesandcorysupermacy prev. next

BOOM!

Miles hits the ground shoulder-first with a dull thud, the storage building bursting into flames behind him.

I’m gonna feel that one later, he thinks as he rolls to his feet and back into a sprint. But Oscorp’s gonna feel it, too.

With a leap and a shot of his grappling hook, it’s not long before he’s back on the sidewalk, with Aaron waiting around the corner. The older man has completely retired the Prowler suit now.

“Not bad for your first solo run,” he nods. “Could still be a lil’ quicker, but you’ll pick it up.”

Miles twists the joints of his metal claws. The steel is still shiny and new, save for a bit of soot from the explosion. The purple glow disappears as they power down with a quiet whir and detach to reveal the human flesh underneath. They work like a charm so far.

It’s been two weeks, but he hasn’t gotten to use them - Aaron has yet to send him on a mission where he’d have to. He wants to ask his uncle about it, ask why he let him do all that welding and tinkering if the claws were just for show. But Miles knows that if he does, the man’s brows would furrow and he’d get a stern speech about not getting too eager about that sort of thing. And he’d be right.

So, like every other night, Miles says nothing but “thanks”.

“And what’s this one about?”

You pointed at a comic sitting on the far side of Miles’ bed. On the cover stood a man wearing what looked like some imagined version of an “African” headdress. He was shirtless and dressed in nothing but shorts and brightly-colored boots, like the costume of a wrestler. The upper half of his face was obscured by a mask with white eyes tied around his head. The flat colors and dark lines make it look old, likely from the 80s or early 90s. Above the man on the cover was the title in bold graphic font: Anansi.

“You don’t know ‘Anansi’?” Miles asked with wide eyes before shaking his head. “Nah, we gotta fix that.”

He threw what he was reading aside, hovering his hand over the pile of comics until he located the very first issue.

“So Anansi is like, this spider that gets turned into a human who has the abilities of a spider. Y’know, climbing up walls and shit.”

“Does he shoot webs out of his ass?”

“That’s not how that works, and no. Anyway, he’s got spider powers and he beats the bad guys by being a trickster instead of just brute force.”

You took the comic from him and began leafing through the worn pages, frankly more interested in the art than the plot. The sharp lines and crosshatching remind you of Miles’ sketches. You turned to Miles and held it up once you were finished looking at it.

“Can I borrow it?”

There’s a shadow of uncertainty that crosses his face for a moment as you await his answer.

“Mmm…I dunno. I’ve had that thing since I was ten. You gonna be careful with it?”

You place a hand over your heart.

“Promise.”

He snorts, “Don’t make promises you can’t keep. I’ll let you have it for a week, sound good?”

“Good.”

Miles remembers that he’s supposed to ask for his comic back on the way home, the two metal claws tucked safely into his backpack.

He sneaks a glance at his uncle, and tries to copy his stride when he walks. It looks easy, but there’s a rhythm to it. Miles keeps his gaze low, but his steps lively. The key is not to show the sweat, as they say. All of one’s effort goes into making it look like there’s no effort at all.

Aaron looks over at his nephew, and chuckles.

“Remind me of your old man when you walk like that,” he says.

Miles grins good-naturedly. Guess the sweat shows. But it’s fine, for now.

“What’s that mean?”

“When we was young, we used to watch the older kids walk out the corner store and try to copy ‘em. The way your pops did it…”

The man’s shoulders shook with laughter at the memory.

“He kinda looked like, like he was marching almost. Just stomping down that sidewalk!”

Aaron began to demonstrate, making his steps quicker and heavier.

“I look like that?”

Miles wrinkled his nose and began to tone down his swaying.

“Exactly like that. Shit’s kinda amazing, really. Genetics.”

“I don’t think that’s how genetics work.”

“Oh yeah?” Aaron raised an eyebrow. “Then how come I got you stealing like my pops and me, and in my colors?”

Miles laughed, “But this is good stealing!”

“You got a point there.”

Aaron lifted his gaze upward towards the skyline. The moon was out in full tonight.

“Did y’all make good money, at least?”

“Sure did. Sometimes it was the only money that came in, that’s why we ain’t stop.”

There’s a beat of silence. Miles pats his left pocket to make sure the wad of cash is still there, and wonders if his uncle had to do the same thing, or if he kept it in a fanny pack or briefcase.

“So what made you finally give it up?”

“Oh, that one’s easy. Jeff did it for your mom. Hard to keep secrets with a baby on the way.”

Miles tried to picture a younger version of his father – less facial hair, no eye bags, better eyesight, probably – looking a pregnant Rio in the eye as she broke the news. He looks into her gentle face and…yes, there. Right there is when he decides it’s over.

Even without the whole parenting thing, it probably killed him inside to have to lie to her every night about where he’s been. Miles gets it.

“What about you?”

Aaron shrugged.

“Couldn’t leave my nephew hanging.”

He had knocked on Miles’ door after a few weeks of radio silence and found the kid lying in bed, surrounded by dirty clothes and snack wrappers. The room smelt of stale sweat, the clothes piled up on the floor impossible to get through, so Aaron elected to stand just outside.

Miles looked up, and suddenly the man understood what had Rio so frantic on the phone.

The boy’s gaze was…vacant. Like he was looking through him, at something far off in the distance. There were no words comforting enough to turn the lights back on behind those eyes. So Aaron had done the next best thing:

“Go wash up, we goin’ out.”

Miles doesn’t remember it that way. He hardly remembers anything from that period of time between the funeral and his uncle barging into his room. Just a long stretch of gray, and then the door cracks open, then he’s in the shower realizing how long his hair’s gotten, and soon he’s dodging the punching bag in Aaron’s apartment, carrying crates back and forth and maybe blowing some up on occasion.

He knows in his head that he’s doing this to hurt the pockets of invisible men hiding in their glass skyscrapers and high-rise offices, and he’s as angry at them for sucking the life out of his neighborhood as he’s always been.

But it had started with the door, cracked open just enough for his uncle’s face to poke through. Otherwise, Miles might’ve been content to lie there and become one with his mattress as he missed another week of school.

He wonders if his father went on those runs because he, too, looked into his future and hadn’t the slightest idea as to what he was looking at.

Miles’ thoughts are interrupted when his phone buzzes in his pocket. You have his Anansi issue.

“So this is all you do in your free time, then? Comics and robots?”

Miles has his nose in another shounen manga.

“Is that a bad thing?”

You remember the helmet, and the parts set in neat little rows. And the tarp in Uncle Aaron’s car.

“Not for the most part. More interesting than what I do.”

Miles finally looks up, and squints. “What do you do in your free time?”

“I braid hair,” you reply with a bit of pride. “Pretty good at it, too.”

“Mm-hm, that’s what they all say before they fuck yo’ shit up,” he jokes, earning an issue of Jujutsu Kaisen to the face.

“Ow!”

“Shut up, with them fuzzy ass braids.”

Miles gasped dramatically. “You said they looked nice!”

“Looked. Past-tense.”

“Chill on me, my mom didn’t have time to re-do ‘em this week.”

Seeing an opportunity, your eyes lit up.

“Ooh, let me–”

“No.”

Miles narrowed his eyes at you.

“Aw, come on! You have so much hair, it could be fun! And you said you’d let me.”

You reached out to touch one of Miles’ overgrown braids but ended up swiping the air as he dodged your hand.

“I said ‘maybe’, and now the answer is no. You’re gonna ‘have fun’ in my hair? Like you ‘had fun’ with my t-shirt? I know you stole it, by the way.”

“I up-cycled it.”

“Cutting a shirt in half is not up-cycling, and you’re not touching my head.”

“You're so mean.”

#miles morales x reader #earth 42 miles morales x reader #prowler miles x reader #miles morales x black!reader #miles morales fic #moralesanhour

108 notes · View notes