#//NO ONE IS TOUCHING HIS GAL

[ssamja-trash]

"alpha" men being good at working out = ew

beta kyuhyun being bad at working out = hot

[quaranmine]

i just realized that the elevation i put grian's lookout tower at is too tall (i had to make an elevation up to do the firefinder math in chapter three.) the number i decided on is actually above treeline, which doesn't match with either the game or the descriptions i've been writing in my story

ultimately though, this does not matter because a) nobody but me will ever know the elevation i chose and b) nobody but me actually wants to look at the alidade math LOL

[lalunanymph]

KITTEN, BEHAVE ☆

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ there are consequences to teasing your biker boyfriend...

⋆｡°✩ semi-public s/ex, fem!reader, biker!sylus, reader wears a skirt, reader's a nasty gal <3, undertones of dom/sub (sylus is one kinky mf), finger sucking, finger gagging, petnames (kitten, baby), fucking on his bike (hehe), c/um countdown, unprotected s/ex (wrap it up babes), sylus matches our freak perfectly, based on this thot i had

⋆｡°✩ dawn says: i've been a nasty girl ive been a nasty girl nasty nasty (sorry zayne)

Sylus isn’t one to find beauty in the mundane but the wind whipping past his frosty locks and your arms wrapped tightly around him makes him feel like he’s on cloud nine.

“Kitten, are you alright?” he calls over the lashing breeze. 

His leather jacket is ridiculously thick, but even through the material, he can feel the heat of your cheeks seeping through.

You always flush whenever he calls you your favorite pet name, and Sylus forgets that just like a kitten, you can be just as playful. 

A slender hand tipped with French nails slides down his torso, leaving blistering heat in its wake. The thin compression shirt he’s wearing under his jacket can barely fight off the warmth of your palm bleeding past the material and onto his skin.

His heart doubles in speed, and in response, he revs the N-907 Ultrabike, its wheels kicking up more dirt and dust. Linkon City speeds into a blur, White Coves’ beaches in the distance and to his right, Bloom Forest spreads her velvety green arms open for adventurous outdoor lovers to play in. 

Your hand trickles down his abs, stealing his attention back to your whims, and he smirks behind his visor when he feels your dainty, pretty little palm resting on the front of his pants.

Looks like the little kitten wants to play a dangerous game.

Two can play the same. 

Sylus pretends to ignore you, and he can tell it only frustrates you more when he remains stone cold and unmoving; a statue you’re trying to thaw.

Your free hand creeps under the hem of his shirt, and thank fuck the wind is too loud because a groan slips past his clenched teeth—it would be absolutely embarrassing if you heard it. His mind works doubly hard to focus on not crashing the bike, maneuvering it down the winding steep roads.

“I thought you said you wanted to take me for a ride,” your voice touches his heated ears, innocent and alluring. 

“Isn’t that what we’re doing, kitten?” He tilts his head back slightly and hears your snort. 

Your antics will never cease to amaze him. Whatever possessed you to be bold also eggs you on to be audacious. Your hands travel further up his shirt, pressing right onto his broad pecs and you smirk when you feel the bike wobbling slightly under his control.

“Kitten,” he hisses. “Stop it.”

But, you don’t listen to him. You never do. 

This insolent prey. He tries his damndest not to buck his hips when you start to rub his bulge, merciless with your teasing. Your other hand reaches up to his neck, where his favorite leather collar sits prettily on his defined clavicles, and tug on it, earning another hiss.

The bike skids to a stop and you’re not sure how you ended up pushed against the pillion seat, Sylus looming over you. He kills the engine and kicks down the stand, the sudden deafening silence exacerbating your heavy breathing. 

“Wait,” you squeak, and he shakes his head.

“No more waiting. This is what you wanted, isn’t it?” 

Looking around in a panic, you notice that he’s parked the bike under a secluded shade of trees, next to an empty strip of road. 

This was the same route you took to the edge of the N-109 when you were given the mission to retrieve Sylus a few months ago. 

“Familiar, isn’t it?” He reads your mind with a dark chuckle. 

Those ruby red eyes bore into yours with the grace of a predator provoked, and you, his favorite prey, will finally get what you’ve been asking for. 

“I think it’s high time we recreated some memories from the first night we both saw each other,” he drags his palm up your bare thigh, making you shiver. “It’s a good thing you’re in a pretty little skirt, kitten,” he hums, pushing the hem of your leather mini skirt—a gift from him—out of the way. 

Sylus inhales sharply when he notices the micro thong you’re wearing which barely covers anything, his nostrils flaring.

“Insufferable.”

“Sy,” you whine, unsure what he's waiting for. It's never like him to play with his food.

The press of his bigger body on top of yours cages you to the pillion seat, the friction burning when he unceremoniously drags you closer to him. 

Those intense eyes seem to devour you, and for the first time since you’ve been together with him, you see a shadow of his villainous evil in them. 

“Is this what you wanted?” 

Is this what you’ve been begging for? 

Sylus wraps a hand around your throat in broad daylight, not caring for morals or decency when he squeezes. Hard.

Your eyes roll back into your head, regret streaming in for how you teased him earlier. 

“A-ah—” you choke lightly. “Was jus’ tryna play around.” 

Sylus ignores your whimpers, a bored look on his face as he loosens his fingers, letting you suck in a wheezy breath. 

“Little hunters never learn their lessons, do they?” 

He smirks unexpectedly. 

“Remember that night you tried to tame me during our interrogation? In the end, I was the one who had you screaming, didn’t I, kitten?” 

You did remember—of course, you did.

The shine of your boots spreading his kneeling thighs apart. Leather collar around a pale strip of throat you just wanted to suck on and leave a mark. His smug leers, those glowing ruby eyes that shone like dying embers when he finally snaps off the handcuffs you placed him in and pins you to the ground for a taste of your own medicine.

As much as you hate to confront the truth, it stares you down with an impassive face and dark eyes—a truth that breaks the delusion that you were the one in control when it came to Sylus. 

He touches your thighs, spreads them further. Bright sunlight speckles through the trees, casting webs of shadows across his crooked nose and high cheekbones. 

Sylus takes his time to peel your thong off, and you bite down on your lip to muffle a whimper.

“What? Don't tell me you're all shy now?” 

He snorts in amusement at your attempts to be innocent, prying your lower lip free, stroking the curve of your plush mouth with his thumb until you relent and suck on his digit docilely. 

While you’re not inexperienced when it comes to such carnal submission, it’s the first time you’re doing it outside of the bedroom where anyone could stumble upon the both of you. 

The thought makes your thighs tense and your needy pussy clench down on thin air, something that Sylus doesn’t miss.

“You like this, huh? Being slutted out so publicly… it turns you on to be so open to me.” 

He continues to push his thumb around your mouth; pressing down on your gums, flicking the tip of your tongue, inspecting the ridges and juts of each pearly white tooth. Intentionally drawing out your humiliation. 

Satisfied with the oral inspection, he removes his thumb, swiftly stuffing your protests with two thick fingers. 

“You say ���no’, but I can smell that sweet little cunt getting wetter,” he murmurs, flitting his dark gaze right to your folds flushing readily with need; right to that cleft which houses his favorite hole.

Lewd doesn’t begin to cover how Sylus can treat you in bed. Outside the sheets, he’s content to play the role of your partner and friend, tagging along on your adventures and explorations. 

But the second he has you trapped in his bed, he becomes a different person. 

Meaner. Assertive.

Downright cruel. 

“Do you want me to touch you?” He goads, locks of silver hair falling across his damp forehead. Sweat dews across your chest, and you feel the heat of shame rising in you.

Sylus, I was just joking, you try to argue, but he’s not hearing it. 

“Didn’t seem like a joke when you were pawing at my cock earlier, kitten,” your lover hums, unable to take his half-mast red eyes off of you.  

He slots a hand between your thighs, and you swallow a cry when he drags your thong to the side, spreading your wetness around roughly with his thumb. Sylus rubs tight circles on your aching clit, forcing you to slap a hand over your mouth to muffle your moans.

“Ssh,” he whispers when you give a tiny, choked cry. Sylus takes this chance to nuzzle your neck, inhaling your scent like a starved man. “We don’t want anyone to find us out, don’t we, kitten?” 

Evil, evil man. You bite on the inside of your palm to keep quiet when he lifts one leg to wrap around his narrow waist, effortlessly tugging his zipper down and freeing his cock. 

“One single sound and I will stop, do I make myself clear?”

There’s no choice but for you to nod. Sylus doesn’t waste a single second once he’s got you all nice and wet for him, grasping the base of his girthy and veiny length, stroking it a few times to make sure he’s hard and ready for you.

The thick tip breaches past your tight ring of muscle, and you bite down on a sharp gasp, squeezing your eyes close.

His breathing is getting heavier, and he curses the second he bottoms out in your tight heat. 

The bike begins to shake with every clean stroke, his thrusts making your toes curl and heels dig into his back. Luckily, the pillion seat is wide enough to accommodate your shaking bodies; never imagining for a single second that your lover would be boldly fucking you on it in the middle of a dangerous zone.

But, Sylus has always been like this—addictive, painful.

Dangerous. 

How he fucks you is no different. 

The blunt head touches the deepest spot inside of you, and you’re helpless to do anything but cling onto him like second skin, muffling your whines into his broad shoulder.

“Looks like the little kitten is enjoying her cream,” he murmurs, trailing his gaze down your body taking him so well. 

The veins on the back of his hands stand out, drawing your attention to him dragging the front of your blouse down, tucking your bra cups under your heaving breasts. 

Sylus’ mouth wraps around one turgid bud, sucking it till it’s shiny with his spit and throbbing from oversensitivity. 

He repeats the same motion on your neglected nipple, savoring your hitched breaths and muffled whines. 

Your thighs start to shake, and you turn your head to the side. 

Look at you, he coos and grabs your chin, forcing you to gaze at the spot between your thighs where he’s fucking into you. Look at how well you’re taking me. 

You’re so wet that droplets of white are trickling down your inner thighs, frothing into stickiness where his cock is rutting shallowly inside of you. 

“Sy,” you moan softly, eyes glossing over with tears of pleasure.

He loves how needy and pathetic you look for him with your swollen, parted mouth and tight nipples just begging to be pinched or flicked.

A furrow creases between his brows, drops of sweat trickling down his jaw. 

You surprise him by leaning forward, flattening your tongue and lapping it right up, shameless in your desire for him. 

“Naughty girl,” Sylus purrs, his red eyes darkening to an impossible black until you’re sure not a shred of your sweet boyfriend remains. Two thick fingers part your mouth open, sliding down your welcoming throat until he’s knuckle-deep in you.

Sylus chokes you out as his other hand trails down your body towards your clit, rubbing the flushed nub until your hips buck and you cry out; a master at bringing your body closer to the pleasurable brink. 

The tears beading in your lash line finally freefall down your face, triggering his devilish satisfaction. 

Returning the favor, Sylus licks them clean, chuckling cruelly at the arousal turning you cross-eyed. 

He loves it when you look this fucked out, and one day when you’re comfortable enough, he hopes you’ll relent to him taking a picture of that messed up, pretty face for his safekeeping.

Baby, you gurgle around his fingers. I’m close… 

Yeah? He goads. Gonna break for me? Come on this cock? Make a mess? Fuck—do it baby. Mess me up. Make me feel so good because that’s all you’re good for, huh? 

He grits his teeth, fighting back the cresting pleasure, needing you to come first.

Come on, baby. Come with me. Five… four… three… that’s it, baby. You’re so close, aren’t you. Don’t come until I reach zero. Fuck—that pussy’s so tight. Two… one… fuck, fuck. 

High strung keens are escaping past the cracks of his fingers stuffed in your mouth, your entire body shaking violently that Sylus thinks you’re being wrecked by an internal earthquake.

Zero. Zero. Fuck, baby. Come for me. Come on, give it to me. Give me that sweet cum. Yeah, that’s it, that’s it—

He grunts, his patience breaking, flooding inside of you in waves of heat; filling you up to the brim.

In this moment of weakness where anyone targeting him can put a bullet right through his head, Sylus thinks that if he dies right now, he would do so happily in your arms.

His forehead gently thumps onto yours and you must be as fucked up as him because you push his hair back, scratching his scalp lightly.

Your sculpted, 6’2 menace of a lover who’s seen death and destruction since the day he could speak, groans and nuzzles your cheek like a weak puppy. With every version of Sylus that you have seen before, this will always be your favorite one—where he’s comfortable enough to kiss you affectionately, bringing you down from the high.

He hums. “Satisfied?” 

Sylus would never say he loves you out loud—that’s not in his nature.

But, his actions scream louder than words when he adjusts your rumpled clothes and gives you a peck on your cheek.

“Do you still want to visit that mad scientist or should we scrap it for another day?”

The implicit invitation tempts you. 

A boring lecture or a whole day spread out on my sheets, kitten?

“Let’s go home,” you choose the latter, and Sylus tries his hardest to hide his smug smile when you refer to his penthouse as your own home.

“Of course. But, for the sake of not violating any more public decency laws, you better keep your paws to yourself until we get home, kitten.”

Proving your disobedience and your unwillingness to learn your lesson, you sink two fingers under his collar, dragging him close enough for your lips to touch. 

“That depends on if you can get us home fast enough, Sy.”

He takes it as a challenge, a grin touched with a hint of lunacy splitting across his face.

“Is that a challenge, sweetheart?” 

“No, I—”

He pulls you into a kiss, devouring your breaths until your lungs are filled with nothing but him, him, him. 

His fingers in your hair, an arm wound tightly around your waist so his favorite prey can never escape him. Sylus breaks off the kiss, ruby eyes like two bloody pools when he stares at your warm cheeks and puffy mouth. 

“You should know I always—always—win our petty bets.”

— feedback and reblogs are appreciated luvs <33

©️ lalunanymph. do not copy, repost, or translate to another site

[steaksex]

Sterling objectum coffee mug scully objectum knife SEND TWEET!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[ozzgin]

Streamer reader that has a PO box and as a stream one day, opened a box to find toys lol no one will admit which one of them sent it

Shark daddy is rich enough to buy a full box of toys tho 👀... just saying

-🐶

I already have a post where I talk about adult toys from your monster followers in general, so I thought this time I'd focus on the Big 5 and what they'd get you in particular. content: gender neutral reader, NSFW!!

Regardless of his choices, LizardKing5 always goes one size too big. He knows it won't fit, he knows you'll struggle. He loves it. He'll sit before the screen and probably jerk off to the image of you trying and failing, only making it to the tip before giving up, embarrassed and flushed. He lives to tease you.

SharkMan does have the money for any luxury, though he finds the idea of buying you adult toys somewhat tasteless. He'll gift you other things, like expensive lingerie, or self-care appointments. Unless you ask for something yourself, he'll stay away from it. He prefers to wait until special events, like the follower milestone, to provide you with firsthand experience instead.

HornyMantis is the real trouble. Not only does he flood you with packages, but he somehow manages to find the strangest, most particular items. Half the time you'll open the box and find yourself staring at the perverted tools, asking yourself: it's a thing? Additionally, he's big on cosplay, especially cow-themed costumes. Doesn't matter if you're a guy or a gal, you'll find it either way - the slutty lingerie with a handwritten note, Take care of those milkers.

DefNotAStalker is not much of a giver. After all, he already has front row seats to all your intimate performances. He likes to show his appreciation through small, loving gestures instead; changing the batteries, switching to your favorite settings, putting the stuff away before guests arrive. Probably touches himself to the freshly used toys, or from a safe distance while you're actively using them.

Y/NSimp, unsurprisingly, is extremely vanilla. He'll gift you a basic vibrator and giggle to himself the entirety of the stream, thinking he'll make you blush and shock all other monsters with his cheeky act. Then he'll stare in horror at all the other shameless toys you're unwrapping. He didn't even know some of these things exist.

[Monster Streaming] | [All Monster Series]

[kamiraaah]

TWST PARENTS! Trappola, Hunt and Ashengrotto!!

⚠️⚠️First of all, I must warn you that these designs may change in the future, either because the game presented us with the official designs, or just because I really wanted to change... Or I could reuse these designs for these characters!⚠️⚠️ Given that warning...

Guys, gals, and non-binary pals. I present to you, the Trappola, Hunt, and Ashengrotto families!

The Trappolas it's a very common family, compared to others. Of course, Ace Trappola and his brother get into a lot of trouble and face their mother's anger very often... But hey! It's good that they have their father to calm things down when things escalate, right? It may not seem like it, but Mrs. Trappola in her youth was just like Ace, always getting into trouble and facing authorities without thinking twice… Which led to many fights with Ace's grandmother. Mr. Trappola, on the other hand, rarely started fights, at least physical ones. Since he has a sharp tongue, always with some offense or something to irritate the other person. Both Ace and his brother inherited these traits from their parents… Although the older one is a little more responsible and is sometimes the one who talks sense into Ace's head. Ace and his brother have always been close, even though they fight or torment each other, they both have great respect for each other, even now that they don't see each other as much…

The Hunt family is a mystery to many.

The members of this family are… Lively, for lack of a better description, and Rook is the best known among them, and yet he is a guy who hides many secrets.

Although they are unknown, they are apparently a family with a certain wealth, many stories surround their members about how the Hunts managed to get so much money and influence in Twisted Wonderland...

But of course none that came close to the truth.I still wonder what kind of people they are.

Mama, Papa and Grandma Ashengrotto! A very loving family that loves young Azul more than he can imagine. Miss Ashengrotto goes to great lengths to demonstrate her love for her son, even though she is a busy woman, always does everything possible and impossible to be present in her son's life. She is a great friend of the Leech family, and always gets in touch to talk or update each other on how the children are doing. Mr. Ashengrotto, Azul's stepfather, is a kind man who has great respect for his wife. At the beginning of his relationship with his current wife, he was afraid that it would end up affecting the relationship between mother and son… The last thing he wanted was to make the young man hate him, but time passed and Azul and him ended up getting very close ( and catching his stepfather off guard when he called him "papa"… who ended up crying with happiness). Unfortunately, he carries the guilt of not having noticed the bullying that Azul went through in his childhood, and whenever he can (or when Azul allows him) he helps him with whatever he can… Always trying to talk and advise the youngest. Grandmother Ashengrotto, like her daughter, is a kind but strict woman. Always wanting the best for her grandson and being one of his biggest supporters in any projects her grandson starts. Always demands that he visits her more often... And preferably with friends! She wants to make sure her precious grandson is being well taken care of!!

AND MORE FAMILIES DONE!! And I'm still going to draw pictures of other members of the TWST families, so please bear with me a little… I'm going as fast as I can!🫠

I'm not 100% satisfied with their designs... They have a big chance of being changed, but I hope you like them! 😚

[aliceramblez]

Dating the Hazbin Hotel Residents 😈

Tags: GN!Reader, Fluff, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Mentioned Mature Topics (ie. Suicidal Thoughts, Alcohol Abuse, SA, etc), Spoilers For The Show, etc.

A/N: Ahhh yes, more brainriot for the pile 😌 I was more of a Helluva gal before the show aired, but now I gotta say these blorbos are a dear part of my heart! Hopefully y'all enjoy these as much as I did writing them!

Consider following my main blog @taruchinator for more solid content & feel free to leave a request here for future HCs~

Charlie 🌈

When the Happy Hotel first opened its doors and all of Hell started making a mockery of it, you were probably the only one who took it as a sign to try and improve from the low life that you were. It's not like you had anything else to live for, anyway.

As soon as you enter the building, you're immediately greeted by the bubbly Princess of Hell herself (along with a reluctant Angel Dust) who is more than happy to show you around and welcomes you with open arms.

You've never been shown this much kindness and sympathy for your situation before, so it naturally takes you aback and makes you wonder what the catch is. Turns out there's none and the Princess is probably the only sweet soul to live in this shithole.

As you grow closer, she asks you to drop the title and just call her Charlie. She also shares a bit about her situation and how her mother wanted to save sinners from the extermination each year, and now Charlie felt like it was her duty to continue this legacy until her dreams came true.

You can't help but feel touched over how much she cares, so you silently vow to yourself to help her in any way you can, just like she's done for you.

It doesn't take long before the two of you grow even closer and feelings begin to blossom, but you decide to ignore them since why would a Princess ever like someone like you?

But Charlie proves you wrong yet again, since one day she comes to you a blushing mess and confesses her own feelings, asking if you'd like to go out with her. You can't help but vocalize your shock since she could do so much better than a random sinner. She deserved better, too.

She looks at you with fondness in her eyes. “You've been by my side for so long and supported me every step of the way. Who wouldn't fall for someone like that?”

And thus, you are the luckiest person in Hell because you scored Charlotte Morningstar, and whoever says otherwise can get a knife to their throat.

She's the perfect definition of a sweet and patient girlfriend, never pushing you to do anything you aren't comfortable with (since you really aren't used to such adoration in a romantic relationship), but as soon as you give her the get-go, she'll be sure to shower you with as much affection as she can until the doubts in your mind disappear completely.

You aren't that far behind either. Albeit not as good as her, you do your best to be a comforting partner whenever she needs you. This is especially necessary after an extermination happens, which always leaves Charlie devastated and in need of a hug or words of encouragement because she doubts herself sometimes and wonders if the hotel is even working at all.

You remind her how it brought the two of you together, to which she smiles and agrees that at least something good has come out of it so far.

Vaggie 🎀

Both you and Vaggie used to work in the same legion under Adam with the rest of his exorcists. You knew of each other's existence, but didn't really talk much aside from whatever was needed in the midst of battle.

The day she spares a demon child's life, you're doing your rounds nearby and witness the whole exchange, including Lute coming over and ripping both an eye and Vaggie's wings for showing mercy. You don't know why, but it makes your blood boil.

“HEY! What are you doing?! It was just a kid, why not let it slide?”

And just like that, you become a target of Lute's rage as well, being ripped from your angelic status along with receiving a few nasty cuts, yet surprisingly not as bad as Vaggie herself.

Once the two of you are left to die, you immediately try to tend the girl's wounds with whatever you can. Vaggie can only stare in disbelief at what you'd done and questions why you even did so in the first place—now you were stuck just like she was.

“Guess I just don't like seeing injustice... Who knew Heaven could be so fuckin' shitty?”

You both laugh at the irony of it all, and that's when luck is finally on your side as Charlie finds you in the dirty alley and brings you back to the hotel to heal properly.

For the next three years you two stay at the Hazbin Hotel, helping Charlie in any way you can to try and make her dream a reality since deep down you hope that despite Heaven's corrupt system, there can be a small chance that souls can be redeemed. You hide the fact that you're ex-Anges though, since you don't wanna cause unnecessary drama.

During this time period, the two of you become better friends, having your own inside jokes regarding things you didn't particularly enjoy from your time as Angels, as well as learning more about one another.

You're the one to come to terms with your feelings first and decide to lay them on the table for Vaggie to see—she's always been a straight-to-the-point kind of gal, so if you're about to be rejected, might as well have it be done quick. But of course, she replies with her own declaration and desire to give a relationship a shot, which you're ecstatic about!

It's a bit hard at first since you never got to see much of romantic relationships in Heaven while training for murder every year, but you try and make it work. Both you and Vaggie work endlessly to try and make the other happy, and it only makes you fall for each other even more.

Also Charlie is your go-to wingwoman who will be there to give you the best advice to try and woo your girlfriend. She ships you two so hard.

Angel Dust 🕸

Working at a porn studio under an Overlord who owns your soul can be exhausting. You know this better than anyone since everyone who works under Valentino has contracts that won't let you get far with a leash. This is especially true with your friend Angel Dust.

You know about the things Valentino does to the spider demon—hell, everyone in the studio probably knows, but know better than to say anything about it. You're always there for Angel after particularly rough shoots, doing your best to comfort him in any way you can, though there isn't much you can do given you're in the same spot.

When he tells you he's moving to Princess Charlie's Hazbin Hotel, you're so happy for him! At least that will give him some distance from Valentino and his disgustingly filthy hands when he's not working.

This unsurprisingly doesn't bode well with the Overlord, causing him to throw fits of rage around the studio when Angel leaves for the day. You can't help but make a snarky comment that you definitely regret moments later.

“Can one blame him for wanting space from such an overbearing asshole?”

Without his favorite stress toy around, you end up paying the price for such comments. The kind of pain and suffering he puts you through is completely different from what you're used to. Is this the stuff he does to Angel? He leaves you naked, bruised and bloody in your room, and all you can do is muster what little strenght you have left to head for the Hazbin Hotel.

As soon as the door opens, you immediately tumble forward and start losing consciousness. The last thing you remember is Angel's horrified expression before it all fades to black.

Once you wake up and have been patched up, you explain what happened at the studio, and you could've sworn you saw fire in Angel's eyes as he holds on to you, fearing you might disappear at any moment. He begs you to stay in the hotel with him, and you agree without hesitation.

And so, your new routine of heading to work and then coming back to the hotel becomes blissful, not having to deal with that lunatic mothman more than necessary. You also get to spend time off with your best friend, which is always a plus.

Well, ‘best friend’ might not be the best way to describe it. You'd developed a crush on the spider demon even before this whole incident occurred, and now that you were spending more time with him, it only continued to grow.

With the line of work you two had, romantic relationships didn't seem to be a thing that crossed anybody's mind since why have a permanent partner when you could just go around fucking the hottest people in Hell? But you knew your feelings were far beyond from sexual, but didn't wanna ruin what you already had going for you.

One heartfelt drunken conversation after work however, makes you do a double take—Angel likes you back. And that both scares and excites you. But with both of you going over the pros and cons with each other, you decide to give it a chance.

You make sure to always have Angel's consent when it comes to physical intimacy—anything from holding his hand, to kissing to just cuddling. He jokes about not being a porcelain doll, but deep down you know he appreciates it.

You're also there for the rough nights, when he comes home wanting nothing more than to die again and let the earth swallow him whole. Words of reassurance are spoken and you can only hold him and let him cry as you vow to do anything in your power to stop this from happening again.

Husker 🍺

As one of the first guests of the hotel, like any wayward sinner, you find yourself in the bar more often than you'd like. Alcohol killed you in the first place, yet not even in the afterlife could you seem to pull yourself from its grasp.

It's a somewhat welcome surprise to find out that the bartender is going through a similar struggle. He still serves you drinks and lends and ear whenever he's not busy, but will occasionally drop the words of wisdom to watch your fill.

Eventually you two find yourselves doing this little back and forth and aid each other when you're in your dark places—Husk won't let you near the bottle if he sees you're about to knock yourself out, meanwhile you're there to look after him when he has one too many drinks and can't take care of himself.

Not to say he isn't a good drinking buddy—you've found out most of the gossip around the hotel thanks to this sneaky little cat demon and there's never a dull moment with him around.

You learn about his deal with Alastor during a particularly bad night, when Husk's had one too many and isn't thinking straight. You don't bring it up, but now have an eye open for whenever the Radio Demon drags your friend away.

Angel's the one who brings up your questionable relationship to the surface.

“So... you two like, fuckin' each other, or what?”

Your entire face goes red, and if it weren't for the dark fur you could swear you see Husk looking the same. He's quick to get rid of Angel's nosy ass, but now the seed has been planted in your brain—do you like Husk that way?

After careful consideration, you come to the conclusion that yes, you do. And it's honestly kinda terrifying considering how relationships don't usually work out in Hell, at least from what you've seen. Besides, even if you did try and confess, there was always the possibility of him not feeling the same and just being embarrassed by Angel's comment.

So in an attempt to make your feelings disappear, you stop frequenting the bar. Who knew the best way to stop drinking habits was trying to avoid spending time with your unrequited crush?

But of course, Husk isn't stupid. He sees the change in your behavior and let's it slide for a while, until he eventually corners you and asks what's wrong. You decide to get it all out of the way and tell him how you feel.

To the embarrassment of both of you, he holds your hand firmly between his and darts his eyes toward the corner of the room. “Next time you should ask before going off assuming things, ya got it?”

And so, your glass may have been empty that day, but your heart had never felt fuller.

Sir Pentious 🐍

You meet Sir Pentious when you sign into the hotel, and your immediate thought is just how can this snake man be so adorkable, it should be illegal.

As you greet the other residents and staff, you're quick to strike a conversation with him, which based on his body language he was not expecting. He starts telling you a bit about his weaponry and other contraptions, and you can't help but be fascinated by it.

You're a bit of a tinkerer yourself, albeit you've only dabbled in small scale projects—nothing compared to the massive canons and aircrafts that Pentious seems to be familiar with.

He acts like a kid opening gifts on Sinmas when he talks to you about his inventions, clearly never having anyone show interest before. Eventually he'll even ask for your input on certain smaller projects he wants to work on to help around the hotel, all to thank Charlie for being so kind to him and giving him a second chance. You're obviously eager to help!

You two start spending so much time together that the egg boys have started calling you ‘Boss #2’, much to Pentious' embarrassment and your amusement.

One afternoon once exercises are done for the day, the snake demon seems much more fidgety than usual as he invites you over to his room to continue working on his security system prototype. He's a blabbering mess once he has you sitting down and your heart just can't help but swell at each little syllable.

“Dearest (y/n)... you've, um, well... you are a huge inspiration for my work! A-And I wouldn't have been able to create any of this... without your help. You are kind, and smart and very talented.... and w-well, um I-”

You gotta silence the man with a kiss otherwise you two would be here all day. He's puddy in your hands and you can only giggle in return. “I really like you too, Pen.”

Everyone is either saying they called it or groaning in annoyance because fucking FINALLY, you two were just dancing around each other like idiots. The egg boys are just so happy to have someone else besides Pentious to be in their lives, and will do their best to look out for you just like with their own boss.

So yeah, prepare yourself for some sickeningly sweet gestures from this guy cause he will go above and beyond to get you what you need/want even if it kills him (again). And you can confidently say that you'd do the same in return.

Alastor 📻

After running in the same circles when you were alive, it's no surprise to you to end up in Hell, although you never would've suspected that you'd find yourself in the same place as him. It was honestly a huge relief not having to go through this all by yourself.

As Alastor exerted his dominance over Hell as the Radio Demon, you were powerful enough to be an Overlord yes, but rather liked keeping it on the down low instead of making a spectacle of yourself (Alastor was the one for theatrics anyway). Because of this, only select few knew of your true power and what you were capable of.

Instead, if there was one thing you were known for, it was being the only soul allowed to be close to the Radio Demon without the risk of death.

Yes, Alastor was a sadistic, cold-blooded and egotistical mastermind, but he wasn't a monster. You knew that better than anyone. Although the reactions he had to other demons treating you like a joke or calling you the ‘Radio Demon's Pet’ were not helping his case.

“ł₣ ɎØɄ V₳ⱠɄɆ ɎØɄⱤ ₴ØɄⱠ, ɎØɄ ₩łⱠⱠ ₩₳Ⱡ₭ ₳₩₳Ɏ Ɽł₲Ⱨ₮ ₦Ø₩ ฿Ɇ₣ØⱤɆ ł Ɽł₱ ł₮ ₳₱₳Ɽ₮ ฿ł₮ ฿Ɏ ฿ł₮...”

“Al, chill. You're gonna make them shit their pants.”

After his seven year absence, you immediately noticed something was wrong with him, and wouldn't stop pestering until he told you the truth—A deal he made and how his soul was now bound to someone much more powerful than he was.

You were obviously mortified and started looking into ways to try and find a loophole to this, but alas the Radio Demon would just give you his signature grin and tell you not to worry about it. It was his battle to face.

But of course you're quick to remind him that you've stuck together through thick and thin even in life, so there was no way you were letting him handle this by himself. You work as a team—always have and always will. You engulf him in a hug.

“We're gonna figure this out, Al. I promise...”

The grin remains, but his eyes widen slightly in surprise. He hesitantly returns the embrace, patting your back and wiping the tears you didn't even know you were shedding.

“There there~ To think such a sweet and innocent soul wound up in a gutter like this. I cannot say I complain as long as I have your delightful company beside me.”

And so when he says he has a plan that involves Princess Charlie Morningstar and her new Happy Hotel, you follow along. Whatever fate has in store for you two, you'll be ready.

Also Charlie is a sweetheart who could do no harm. Knowing Alastor, he'll probably do whatever he can here and there to help around for the cause. You also offer your services as an undercover Overlord, much to everyone's surprise when you reveal your status.

The Radio Demon may have a plan, but something tells you it won't involve bloody murder (unless extremely necessary or if someone really pissed him off).

Like you said—he's not a monster.

Lucifer 🍎

You and Lucifer were good friends at the beginning of Creation. While you were stuck with the tedious task of designing blueprints for the new ‘Human Project’ that headquarters had in store, Lucifer's Seraphim status allowed him to bring creations to life with the flick of a wrist, much to your delight and wonder.

His ideas and pitches for Earth were always so entertaining to listen to, and you would do your best to encourage him to show them to the higher ups to get them approved—His mind was just filled with joy and love and wonder that you'd never seen before.

Which was why it was always so disappointing whenever he'd come back and say that he was shut down and even mocked at. How could Heaven shut down such an imaginative mind in the creation of their biggest project yet?

To say you were devastated when you heard about his fall would be an understatement. You mourned the loss of your friend, knowing that he'd done nothing wrong and thinking it wasn't fair to him to receive such punishment just because he cared for the future of humanity.

Thousands of years later, you overhear the plan for Extermination of Hell kind. You didn't mean to walk by, yet here you were, under the direct eye of the Head Seraphims about to be downcast for something you had no control over—just like Lucifer.

“You're all self-entitled pricks! You think you can do whatever you want just because it doesn't follow what you define as good!”

You get a few good arguments before being cast downwards, leaving you in bad shape in a random alley with no wings and no means of escape. That is of course, until destiny seems to be on your side and Lucifer finds you, completely perplexed to see you here at all.

After getting treated, you tell him about the Extermination so he and Hell can prepare. The conversation of you getting cast down by Heaven gets glossed over, but he can feel the fury building up inside him. You were always doing things by the book—how could they do this to you?

Once the slaughter is over, Lucifer gets a meeting with Heaven and secures protection for both his daughter Charlie and you, to which they begrudgingly agree to keep him outta their hair. You can't help but feel touched by this gesture.

He's also quick to offer you a room to stay in, but you compromise by living in a seperate building from him and Charlie so you aren't a bother even though he says you aren't. In fact, ever since Lilith left, he's had to take care of his young daughter all by himself, so he's more than happy when you offer to help.

It doesn't take long for your feelings to start coming into the surface from all those years ago, and you gotta push them away because he's both married and has a child to look after! Besides, why would the King of Hell ever look in your direction?

Eventually though, he brings up the question with nothing but sweaty palms and a customized rubber ducky that says ‘I love you’ whenever you squeeze it. You blush furiously, but can't help but bring up your concerns, not wanting to replace Lilith in his heart. He looks into your eyes and says that he hasn't been as happy as he is now in the past thousand years.

Cue baby Charlie walking in on everything, and she just smiles and goes innocently. “Daddy! Is (y/n) staying home with us now?”

You two can only chuckle at the cuteness of it and you immediately go to hug her. You couldn't believe that you were blessed with such a wonderful family.

[simpforrooster]

actually, it’s captain.

Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw x f!reader

summary: request for @kpopgirlbtssvt. rooster’s girl is hit on by Top Gun students.

t/w: touch her, you d i e trope. cursing. mentions of alcohol.

Rooster leans against the bar, laughing at something Penny tells him. His jeans hang low on his hips, and he’s wearing the Hawaiian shirt you bought him for his birthday.

Rooster’s hand slaps the bar as he continues to howl. Penny and Mav exchange a look. Maverick murmurs something to Penny. Your guess would be “it wasn’t that funny.”

You throw back the rest of your drink. As your glass returns to the table, a group of men circle you, all clad in khaki. Must be new Top Gun recruits.

“What’s a pretty little gal like you sittin’ here alone for?” one of them asks you, his accent very similar to Hangman’s.

“Mind if we join ya?” the second asks. Before you can reply, two of the slide in across from you, while the one who spoke first sits next to you. His burly arm comes up around your shoulder. You stiffen under him, feeling small.

And not in the way you feel with Rooster. He makes you feel small, protected, but also empowered. This guy has a hold on you like he’s claiming you. Telling every other guy in the bar he plans on taking you home.

“This here’s Crane and Sorry,” he points to the two in front of you. “And you can call me Pleasure. As in, it’s a pleasure to meet you. As in, the way all ladies feel after a night with me.” He winks. He actually winks.

Your brain is so shocked, you can’t form words. You should take this guy’s arm and bend it behind your back, the way your dad taught you. You should give him on of your grade-a verbal lashings.

But you don’t. The sheer audacity of this man has you frozen.

You try to make eye contact with Rooster, but Pleasure’s frame blocks your view.

“Get your hands off my girlfriend, asshole.” Rooster’s voice makes a relieved breath come from your mouth. His tone of voice would make anyone run for the hills, but it leaves you full of wanting.

Pleasure chuckles, meeting Rooster’s gaze. “Actually, it’s Lieutenant.”

Crane and Sorry exchange an amused look. Rooster’s face is set in a hard line. He reaches for Pleasure’s bicep, ripping him from the booth.

“I said to get your hands off my girlfriend, asshole.” Rooster is a whole head taller than the aviator that just had himself draped on you.

“Shouldn’t leave your girl all alone, dick.” Pleasure tells him, bowing up. Rooster’s mouth pulls up on the left, giving him one of his infamous cocky smirks. Second only to Hangman’s.

“Actually, it’s Captain. And I hope to God you’re in one of my classes. Lieutenant.”

At this, you see Pleasure audibly gulp, knowing he’s fucked up. Rooster still has a death grip on his arm.

“Come on, man. Make my day,” the words come out laced with venom.

Before things can get out of hand, you hop out of the booth and high tail it to Penny. Quickly giving her a synopsis, she rings the bell, signaling these guys need to be thrown out. Hangman, Omaha, and Coyote each grab one of the guys and drag them to the exit.

Rooster joins you at the bar, taking your face in his hands. Those brown eyes roam over you, searching.

Your hands come up to cradle his face, “Roos, I’m fine.”

“When I saw him draped over you, I saw red. Nobody touches my girl.” He leans down to place a kiss against your temple. Rooster’s words have your toes curling in your shoes. You’ve never seen this side of him.

You lower your hands to his shoulders, threading one of them in his curly hair that’s definitely longer than Military regulation.

“You’re the only one I want touching me,” you murmur in his ear, your face flushing.

“Yeah?” he murmurs back.

Not trusting your voice to not come out completely needy, you nod.

“Come on, guys. Quit being disgusting,” Maverick says to the two of you, feigning gagging.

Penny pops his hand over the bar, eliciting a laugh from him.

Rooster ignores him, placing a deep kiss onto your mouth.

“Take me home, baby,” you say, taking in those brown eyes.

“I don’t know, pretty girl, I don’t think I can get further than the Bronco,” he winks.

masterlist.

[mrs-weasley-reid]

JULY REC FICS

Hello, my sweets!! I wanted to try something out to provide my full and utter support to all the amazing writers I've come across in the form of monthly rec fics (starting this month). Join me in giving them love through comments and reblogs. It really is a joy to hear how you're doing as a writer. It makes up for all the angst we write lol

I will be going based on what I've read recently and not by the date the fic was posted. And the number of fics will depend on how much I've read the entire month. Also, please respect these writers. Some contents are 18+, so MINORS should not be interacting in any way, especially when the authors themselves specify it.

— ✿ — ✿ ✿ — ✿ ✿ ✿

Spencer Reid

✿ a question unasked by @easy-there-leftovers ↳ SOOOO ADORABLE. I'm a workaholic craze gal, so it speaks to me on a silly level.

✿ missing the happy hormone by @lavenderspence ↳ I'm a sucker for Spencer fluff this month, what can I say? This fic Tina made had my waterworks going on for about a minute because it's so sweet

✿ desk duty by @reiderwriter ↳ All you have to know is the amount of evil laugh I made while reading this

✿ the theory of love by @ophelia-is-complex ↳ Genuine intimacy is quite a challenge to write, but THIS ONE, this one had me in a sappy mood

✿ like nothing matters by @cerisereids ↳ gagged and had to pause the reading so many times because HELLO— had me spiraling at work

✿ the devils disguise by @qlossytbh ↳ I said I sobbed a little bit, but I actually cried so much I ended up taking a nap and felt better afterward. It's all fluff, though, don't get me wrong. I'm just very dramatic when the red devil's on the clock

✿ not so funny by @reidmania ↳ Angsty, that made me wanna start a fight with some random twiggy tall guy. Sooooo good!

✿ cloaked in passions touch by @raekensluver ↳ If you don't like Spencer's hands, you're fucking lying to yourself!!!!!

✿ language of devotion by @gghostwriter ↳ I'm in love with reid, and this fic just had me stumbling back onto his lap like a good gal

✿ this req response by @mandarinmoons ↳ Sorry, I'm not sure what the title is, but it's so adorable and got me to go to work, so kind of a lifesaver tbh

✿ hallucinate by @gghostwriter ↳ Oooo, this one was so cute, hehe. Honestly, I lean towards Spencer fluff lately just because I've been too overstimulated with work this past month, so READ THIS ONE ITS CUTE

✿ it's golden, like daylight by @dudeitiskarev ↳ I actually felt like I was reader the entire time I read this. It's well-written and so adorable and something that should be framed in a museum

✿ much ado about nothing series by @incognit0slut ↳ binged it all morning, and I was whipped !!! It's ongoing, so if I have to wait, so does everybody else

— ✦ — ✦ ✦ — ✦ ✦ ✦

Aaron Hotchner

✦ choiceless hope series by @hotchfiles ↳ This series had me rolling over my bed on a Saturday. A lot of feelings getting played (mostly mine)

✦ beanstalk by @solardrop ↳ I kid you not; I was giggling like a weirdo when I read it. And that itself deserves the recommendation.

✦ too busy being yours by @hotchfiles ↳ Lari knows how to get a sick gal to giggle. I love bau!rossi!reader. I love Rossi as reader's dad, so I enjoyed it more than I thought I would

✦ ignorance by infatuation by @boneblushed ↳ Oh, this one was a nice snack while on my break at work. LOVED IT SO MUCH

✦ hungover by @basketonthedoorstepofthefbi ↳ Mmmm, such a good read! Plus Jemily is there sooooo

✦ from across the bar by @hotchscoffeecup ↳ Evil laugh ensues. A nice cuppa of some good ole kinky stuff

✦ doomed by @hotchfiles ↳ guys, I stopped my car in the middle of driving home just to read it, so it's THAT good. Honestly, I strongly encourage everyone to read all of Lari's works! She's my writer crush, if none of you realized it by now

✦ a bunch of cuties in love by @lavenderspence ↳ hehehehehehe this definitely did not remind me of that one older guy I used to flirt with who had an adorable younger brother that I babysat🤭

✦ schrodinger's cat by @none-of-your-bullshit ↳ angst on a Saturday morning is like taking a shot of soju before 11 am, and this one felt like it <3

how about you also comment your top 3 fave fics for this month to spread more love to our great writers?

[gremlingottoosilly]

Idk if this has been done before but Bimbo!Reader X Mafia!Konig

You're a perfect gangster gal. That type of girl that would cling to a drug dealer because of the aesthetics - because you wanted money and a cool boyfriend who would drive you in his fancy car and kill any dude who touched you...you like listening to Lana Del Rey and imagine all of those fancy things - you don't like to work, but you do like listen to others working. You met your current boyfriend because he filled your empty, pretty head with how much he gets being a drug dealer and "working for no one" and how cool he is. He isn't as good, it turned out. Konig is way cooler. Konig is his boss - to your surprise. He is old, yes, maybe in his late thirties but, oh god, is he hot. Huge, wide, bulky muscles under that tight dark shirt that can't even hide how giant he is. Your eyes flick to his bulge, and - yeah, his pants are giving up too. You don't even care that this mafia guy is flickering with the gun pressed against your boyfriend's head, you want some of this. As soon as possible. Konig adores you, actually. You don't ask him about what he is doing for a living because you kinda already know that he is not a regular businessman and because you don't care. You press your sweet glossy lips to the tip of his cock and he is ready to give you that shiny pink car you've been gushing about. You ask if he would give you a ring, and he is already choosing the biggest diamond he can get. You're pretty and dumb, but not in arrogant way - you don't think you're better than he is, you don't consider yourself cool or dangerous. You're not like regular criminal girls; you don't even want to take part in his job - and Konig is more than happy to keep you in his mansion, sitting here like a pretty doll. You tell him about your day like an innocent pet you are. You had a manicure, you did your hair, you slept until 12 and then went for a quick swim because water yoga is it right now. Konig killed three people by 9 AM, but he still kisses your forehead and asks if you want to shove some of your moves in that tiny bikini he bought for you since the last island trip. Konig is a dangerous man with a dangerous job, but he is surprisingly loyal and romantic. He wants someone like you - pretty, dumb, obedient, he needs someone with whom he can relax and not think about the job for once. And your bimbo self is just perfect for this.

[frenchkisstheabyss]

♡Ｇｏｏｄ Ｆｏｒｍ♡

♡ Pairing: boyfriend!yunho x chubby!fem!reader x best friend!mingi

♡ Genre: smut/a lil dash of fluff

♡ Summary: When you decide to have some late night fun with your boyfriend in the kitchen, the furthest thing from your mind is that your best friend might walk in and see you but when he does you're both more than happy to have him there.

♡ Word Count: 3k-ish

♡ Warnings: Yunho gives dom vibes. Mingi's a bit shy at first. Threesome (the boys don't touch each other though). They have a real thing for your chubby body. They're overall obsessed w/ you truly. Unprotected sex. Creampie. Oral sex (f & m receiving/heavy on the f receiving). Fingering. Multiple orgasms. Nipple play. Tit sucking. Hair pulling. Nibbling. Ass slapping. Overstimulation. Cum swallowing. Cum swapping. Squirting. A lil edging. Clit slapping. I use the word "pussy" cause I'm not a "cunt" gal. Lots of bodily fluids. Pet names (baby, angel)

♡ A/N: I've been writing a lot of really thoughtful, emotional pieces lately and this...is totally not one of them. It has it's moments but really it's 3k words of filth. I'm for sure gonna do a part 2 because I feel like I can do more with this but for now enjoy your hot girl moment, babes. You deserve it.

You'll never grow tired of this sound...

Yunho slurping down your juices, his soft lips pursed around your clit. Every decadent, unpredictable stroke of his tongue makes your thighs tremble. Three long, dexterous fingers pump in and out of your core drowning you in pleasure.

Yunho had sincerely wandered into the kitchen for a midnight snack when he stumbled upon you here. Bent over in the fridge with your deliciously plush ass peeking from the bottom of your red lace panties, you instantly became the only thing his taste buds craved.

You had your hand on an ice cold bottle of water when you felt two strong hands spreading your thighs apart. “Up a little late aren’t you?” he teased, stroking your slit through the barely there material. Your breath hitched, the cool air from the refrigerator the only thing to ease the heat consuming your body. “I couldn’t sleep and I—mmm—I just wanted—ah.”

Yunho tucked your panties to the side, sinking his middle finger into you. You were already so needy and wet, so easily turned on at the slightest bit of attention from him, that he could've never stopped there. “Just wanted what, baby?” he whispered, dropping to his knees, “Tell me what you want.” It tickled when you felt his lips brush against your skin, leading a trail of kisses around the curve of your ass and down your thighs.

“Yunie, I can’t—fuck, I can’t think” you moaned, holding onto one of the shelves to keep your legs from giving out. “Aww, baby” he smiled, slapping your ass hard enough to make it jiggle, “You don’t have to.”

Yunho knows where your sweet spot is. How to rotate his wrist and curl his finger at the perfect angle to make your body surrender to him. He had you wrapped around his finger—clenching—literally. You were dripping by the time he slipped your panties down to drink from you like the sweetest fountain. He made sure you came twice before he lifted you onto the counter and spread your aching legs open to taste you more.

Backed into a corner, one foot up on each side of the counter, you’re completely at his mercy and this is exactly where you want to be. Nibbling at your bottom lip, you stare down at him with those beautifully glossy eyes of yours.

Yunho tilts his head up to meet your gaze, fluffy dark brown hair framing his face, and it’s obvious he’s as blissed out as you are. He suckles at your clit as he pulls back just enough for you to see your sensitive bud twitching in response to him. Without warning he buries his face between your legs, humming with pleasure as he completely devours you.

You throw your head back, stars illuminating your vision. “Yunie, please don’t stop” you beg, fingers tangling in his hair as he wrecks you in the best way. Just when the pressure inside of you reaches its peak, your pussy ready to turn into a waterfall, you notice a figure standing in the doorway.

Mingi? Fuck. You’ve been so swept up in the moment, blinded by lust, that you completely forgot Mingi was staying over tonight.

It’s coming up on 4 years since you met Yunho and Mingi in a cramped club your friend’s band was playing at. The crowd that night was completely out of control. A swirling pit of drunks in desperate need of therapy. Just trying to get to the bathroom was a death wish. Yunho and Mingi didn’t have to step in to protect you but they did and they have ever since.

It never occurred to you to ask why they helped you. You saw it in the way they watched you at the restaurant after, like you were some shiny new toy they had acquired. Only Mingi treated you like a collector’s item, too delicate to take off of the shelf. He thought it better to admire you, imagine what it’d be like to play with you, but could never get the courage to do it.

Yunho, on the other hand, wasted no time taking you out of the box. Everything about you was too alluring for him to deny. His hunger for you then was as intense as it is now and he needed to indulge or he’d regret it for the rest of his life. Mingi hides it well, at least he thinks he does, but he regrets it. He wishes you knew how badly he wants you to be his in every sense of the word. Could you even fathom the things he’d do to trade places with his best friend right now?

Mingi knows that he should turn around—go back to the guest room, pretend nothing ever happened—but he’s too hypnotized by you to do it. “Hi, Mmm-Mingi” you giggle, noticing the thick bulge in his sweatpants. Mingi follows your gaze down to a cock hard enough to split you in two. You smile at him like you’d love to see him try it. You would. “Yunie,” you coo, tapping him on the back of the neck, “We have company.”

Yunho doesn’t register it at first, too intoxicated by your pussy to process anything that comes out of your mouth as coherent language. Mingi’s eyes widen and you can almost hear the gears turning in his head. He’s scared out of his mind and insanely horny, a combination of things he’s never felt before and has no clue what to do with. Yunho’s motions slow as he deprives you of his tongue. His fingers slide out of you, soaked in your arousal.

“Company?” he asks, rising to his feet, lips dripping wet.

You nod, pointing to Mingi, “I think we woke him up.”

Yunho lets out a low, playful chuckle, turning only halfway to greet his best friend. “Fuck,” Mingi mumbles, frantically scanning the kitchen for something else to look at. “I wasn’t looking! I swear! I came to grab my…” Spotting the spice rack beside him, he blindly grabs the first thing he sees. “Chili pepper flakes? Yeah, they’re so good for a late night snack, you know?”

Unconvinced but amused by his attempt, Yunho turns back to face you. He lures you into a kiss, sharing with you the delightfulness of your taste. He rests the back of his hand against your core, knuckles grazing your clit just enough to keep you on edge. “Can I share?” he asks between the feverish clashing of your tongues. “Mmmhmm” you gasp, your back arching at the return of his touch. Yunho shakes his head, hands riding your curves up to where your nipples poke through your shirt.

He takes your supple breast into his hand, massaging it as he rolls your nipple between his fingertips. “Baby, that won’t do. I need to hear you say it this time. Tell me what you want.” You tilt your head to the side, taking in the tall, handsome blonde watching you. “You can share me, Yunie” you whisper, breath tickling the side of his neck, “I want it.” He pinches your nipple, locking his other arm around your waist, “Aah, good girl. That wasn’t so hard was it? Now hold onto me.”

You do as you’re told and cling to him in time to be lifted from the smooth marble counter. Yunho kisses you once more as he spins you around. A dizzying transition that ends in you draped across the kitchen table. “Are you joining or are you just gonna watch?” Yunho asks Mingi, too distracted with the cute squishy belly poking from the bottom your shirt to actually face him.

Mingi can hear his heart thumping its way out of his chest. He has to be hearing things. “Oh, I—you can’t be—are you s…” he stutters, squeezing the life out of that poor bottle of chili pepper flakes. Yunho nibbles at your exposed belly before turning to confront the confusion on Mingi’s face, “Serious? Yes. I’m serious. I know you’ve always wanted her so…come get her.”

Mingi hesitates, still unsure if it’s a trick or not. The chance that Yunho will murder him if he actually tries seems higher than this not being a fever dream. Shifting to get more comfortable on the table, you hold your hand out to Mingi, your body calling to him like a siren beckons sailors to their doom. It’s enough to make him drop everything, to abandon all these years of pretending.

Mingi carefully makes his way over to you, taking your hand in his. You’re beautiful at any angle but there’s something about this one—you staring up at him from the filthiest position with the most innocent eyes—that really gets him.

It’s the perfect angle for you too, one your boyfriend knows you’ve fantasized about. These two broad shouldered angels looming over you, bathing you in their admiration. “Kiss me” you whisper, palming Mingi’s cock through his thick sweatpants. Mingi grunts at the euphoric release of tension as his lips latch onto yours, his kiss ravenous and sloppy. His platinum hair falls into your face, immersing you in the crisp floral scent of his shampoo.

Yunho watches as Mingi snatches your shirt up, taking his time to enjoy how your tits bounce when they pop free. Pushing your legs back, Yunho drags his fingers between your lips to pull back the hood of your clit. He flicks his thumb up and down, smiling as you arch and wiggle beneath him. Mingi sneaks a glimpse down at Yunho, breaking the kiss to hear your moans. For the first time he doesn’t have to listen through the walls, you’re making all those sinful noises right before his eyes and it’s glorious to behold.

“You’re so cute” Mingi says, cupping your fluffy cheeks. “You—ah—think so?” you ask, tucking a finger into the waist of his sweatpants. You slip your hand inside, taking as much of him into your hand as you can. Mingi pulls them down for you and you audibly gasp at the gorgeous cock that springs free. You glide up and down, circling the head with your thumb. Mingi cups one of your breasts, kneading the plush flesh as drags his tongue down to your nipple. “Mmhmm” he hums, stuffing his mouth full of you, “So fucking cute.” 

You lay there breathless—trying to talk your trembling body down from your next orgasm—when you feel the throbbing head of Yunho’s cock rub up and down your entrance. “You ready for me, baby?” he asks, raising your legs up to balance your ankles on his shoulders. When he does it presses him into you a little bit further and you cry out, raising your hips for more. “Mmm—ready for you Yunie.” Yunho snaps his hips, bottoming out in one thrust that sends electricity dancing through your body.

A soft tug brings Mingi in close enough that you can turn and lick the precum leaking from the tip of his cock. “Fuck, that feels so good” he moans, rising to push deeper into your throat. Your tongue curls on the underside of his cock, the textured roof of your mouth dragging along it as he fucks your throat.

This is what they’ve wanted since the night you met. What you’ve wanted too. It’s so satisfying, like scratching an itch you never could quite reach, to let them take you together. Their hands glide across your velvet smooth skin, exploring every inch of you. They’re so careful with you, matching paces to keep you comfortable. All you have to do is lay here and let them take care of you—let them worship you.

Yunho caresses your legs, fingers digging into your hips, “I feel you clenching, baby. You close?” You know he expects an answer even if you’re currently drooling around Mingi’s cock. You give him a muffled, “Yes.” But that’s not nearly enough for either of them. Mingi grabs you by the hair, pulling out to leave your mouth painfully empty. “Your voice is too pretty not to hear” he says, stroking your lips, “You ready to come for us, baby? Gonna let me see how good you look coming on your boyfriend’s cock?”

“Yes, Mingi. I’m gonna c—oh my—ah…” you whimper only for Mingi to shove himself back inside of you before you can finish speaking. Not that you’re complaining. The men exchange a brief glance, returning their attention to you with something new in mind. They move faster and harsher, struggling as much as you do to keep it together. They could both come right now from the way you pulsate your walls around Yunho or the way your throat muscles flutter around Mingi. But there’s no question that it has to be you first. 

Your eyelids grow heavy, the pressure bursting inside of you, and suddenly gravity doesn’t exist anymore. Mingi holds your hand and Yunho rubs your belly as you squirt down his length. Yunho licks his lips at the mess you've made of his pants, the wet spot growing the more you bounce down onto him. “That’s it, baby. Use my fucking cock, angel.” He lays his hand flat on your clit and slaps it just enough for you to feel the sharpness of the contact.

It makes you clench even tighter—the tightest he’s ever felt you—and he can’t take it anymore. He spills into you, filling you so far beyond your limit that your pussy’s gushing it back out at him before he’s even empty. Mingi plays with your nipples, pinching one and then the other, switching every time you get too used to the feeling.

Your mouth falls open, your overstimulated body beginning to go limp. You keep it open, tongue hanging out to welcome the thick ropes of come Mingi empties into your mouth. It collects in the back of your throat making your moans sound like tiny gurgles. What’s left leaks from the corners of your mouth and Mingi kisses you quickly, swapping the warm, salty liquid back and forth between the two of you until it’s nothing.

You stay entangled with them for an amount of time you can’t really grasp, coming down together. The room slips into silence. The only sound you hear is the symphony of heavy, uneven breaths. You look around at each other, the reality of what you’ve just done setting in. No one regrets it, you’d all be up for it again if one of you had it in you to ask, but it’s hard to know what to say.

You love each other more than anything. What you share is so special that you’ve all done everything to keep from fucking it up. To think that this might be what does. That the next thing to come out of your mouth could destroy it all. It’s terrifying.

Yunho clears his throat, stretching your legs for you so you don’t cramp up. “Can I get you anything? A snack?” You poke your bottom lip out, contemplating your snack options, “Uh, nah. I’m okay.” Noticing your throat sounds a little dry, Mingi grabs a bottle of water from the fridge—the very one you had your hand on earlier—and brings it to you. He twists the cap off and raises it to your lips, “You need to hydrate. I’m not asking.”

“Ooh, when’d you get so bossy?” you ask, taking a sip of water, “I like it.” Mingi takes a sip for himself before passing it to Yunho who chugs down the rest. “Shower?” Yunho says, swishing some water around in his cheeks. To you and Mingi it sounds like “swishwer”. Mingi squints his eyes at him, “Swishwer?” “I think he means ‘shower’” you whisper, trying to channel enough energy to sit yourself up. Yunho nods, swallowing the last few drops. “Yes! That! Shower. I’ll go run the water and you…” He points to Mingi and then to you, “Grab her and be careful. She’s expensive.”

Yunho walks off to the bathroom, leaving the two of you alone in the kitchen. You finally manage to sit up and swing around to face Mingi. He puts his arms around you, kissing the bridge of your nose, “Don’t worry about holding on but just…don’t scream.”

“Don’t scream? Wh—”

Mingi throws you over his shoulder and you do in fact scream. “What are you doing to my girlfriend?” Yunho shouts from the bathroom, flipping the shower on. Mingi carries you down the hall, your feet kicking as you giggle. “She’s fiiiine” he sighs, rolling his eyes, “It’s not like I’m gonna drop her.” Stepping into the bathroom Mingi pretends to trip for the fun of it.

“Put me down you psycho!” you whine, your life flashing before your eyes.

Mingi pouts, nuzzling his cheek up to your side, “I wasn’t really gonna drop you. So mean.” He lowers you down, letting you hold onto his arm while you gain your footing. You go to take your shirt off, it’s barely on, but the room still feels like it’s spinning.

“I got it, baby. Come here.” Yunho pulls you over to him and helps you out of your shirt. In return you help him out of his pants, tossing them off to the side. Yunho hops into the shower and you’re back at Mingi’s side, pushing his shirt up over his head. You never break eye contact once, committing every detail of each other’s naked bodies to memory.

You lead him into the shower and find yourself happily positioned between the two of them beneath the warm running water. Yunho cuddles you from the front and Mingi holds you from behind. The three of you fit together perfectly, like you were always meant to be like this.

Eventually you’ll have to say something. You’ll have to have an honest conversation about where things go from here. But for tonight you’ll stay in this moment together, letting your hearts revel in feelings your lips may never speak of again.

[chaptersleftunwritten]

Red Hot

Based on the song ‘Breaking the Girl’ by Red Hot Chilli Peppers. Also, requested by the sweetest nonnie!

Blurb: Eddie has never had a constant in his life. Everyone leaves or he does before he can get hurt. After working up enough courage to ask you on a date, he can’t help the itch to run from you when he sees you talking with another guy.

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Light angst with a fluffy ending, miscommunication, reader referred to gal/girl, Eddie’s puppy eyes being teary. Jealousy. I think that’s all….

-

divider by @cafekitsune

It all started in August.

The longing stares, stolen touches, blushing cheeks, sweating palms. Eddie had fallen for you. Hard. And it was incomprehensible to him.

Sure, you guys had been partnered on a few class projects, muttering sweet ‘Hello’s’ to one another as you passed in the hallways. But nothing overly serious. Nothing that could lead to this flutter in his inked chest.

The feeling startled him— like falling asleep, only to dream that you’re falling from a building and then you jolt awake.

You frightened him. You with your shining smile that could light up the whole of New York City, or your bigger than life bubbly personality and your Einstein like brain. You frightened Eddie Munson— and he liked it. Loved it, even.

When he looked at you, he was sure. Surer than he has ever been about anything in his entire life. He wanted you— he needed you in his future. You made him feel… wanted. Normal? Less like than outcast and more like a friend.

And so he asked you out— but not without extreme difficulty. It took him three whole days to pluck up enough cowardly courage to slip a hand written note into your locker, signed from him with a cheesy love heart stamped next to your name on the back.

Eddie was consumed by immense panic after he had posted the note to you. He paced the halls and even contemplated breaking and entering into your locker just to steal the note back. It wasn’t regret, but more like guilt.

He wasn’t brave enough to ask you face to face. He knew he wouldn’t be able to form a coherent sentence in front of you, nevermind ask you out to a diner for milkshakes.

He also couldn’t handle your rejection. It would sour him… it would break his heart.

And so when he seen you bounding over to him and the other guys at lunch like a cheerful bunny rabbit he nearly sunk and hid beneath the table. Terrified of what you might say— of what you might think of him…

Would you take him as he was?

His insides were twisting and turning, his feelings for you burning…

“Hey, Eddie…” you stop a few paces away from his perched frame, your cheeks flushed and your fingers fumbling with your pocket, “Could I please borrow you for a moment?” Your voice is sweet enough to make Eddie’s own cheeks pink and your eyes examine the table, almost as if you are asking for the men’s permission to pinch their friend.

They spare you some friendly and amused smiles, but that is all. They know better than to meddle with the things Eddie cares about.

“Sure thing, sweetheart.” He clears his throat in the form of a light cough, his palms slapping against the top of the table as he lunges from his seat and onto his feet to meet you. His movements are so fast that it takes you a moment to register that he is standing inches in front of you.

“Lead the way.” He purrs softly and that’s it for you. Your brain is none responsive. Eddie was great at the art of pretending. He was a pretender— which meant that he was the master at faking his confidence. As he watched your jaw fall slack at his toothy dimpled grin it only spurred him on further. He was adoring the effect he was having on you.

Leading Eddie into the quiet of the corridor you stop against a wall, smiling angelically up at the metal head, “I got your note.” Part of you was hesitant to even approach Eddie, in doubt that you had been brutally pranked by someone but the softness in his eyes and the relaxation of his tense shoulders put your mind at ease.

“What note?” Eddie perks a brow, a massive stretched smile on his lips and you swat at him playfully, pulling the loose piece of crumpled paper from your pocket and waving it in front of his nose, “Okay, okay.” He throws his hands up in surrender before tucking them beneath his armpits; trying to contain his nerves.

“If by chance, I did slip that into your locker… what might you reply to it? Y’know— if it were from me.”

There’s a moment of pause and you purse your lips in false thought, holding the note flat against your chest, “I think I would say yes— but only if it were you.” You sigh, frowning mockingly, “But I guess we shall never know, huh?”

You sway away from the wall, overly slumping your shoulders as you take agonisingly slow steps back toward the cafeteria.

Eddie can’t contain his thrill. You just agreed to go on a date with him. You! You agreed!

He punches the air whilst your back is turned to him before he is prancing behind you like a ballet dancer, “It was me! Did I mention that? Swear I did.” He grabs the note from you and you giggle as he examines his own handwriting, “Yep! See, right here. That’s my name.” His index finger taps on the inked page and you hum in recognition and amusement. Peeking up at him through the thickness of your eyelashes you offer him a sly smile and he is quick to return one to you.

“Okay, well… how about Friday then? You, me and some delicious milkshakes?” You chirp like a song bird, clasping your hands behind your back and rocking on your heels.

Eddie’s heart thunders in his chest and his cheeks ache from the unremovable smile on his face.

“Sounds like a date, Princess.”

-

Eddie couldn’t keep his Bambi eyes closed at night, all he could think about was you. You and the minutes counting down to your date together. He had to fight the urge every single second of every day to smother you with attention in the corridors at school. He wanted to allow you space but fuck— was it challenging.

He would leave rouge flowers and their stems poking out from the vents in your locker— never specifying if it were him or not. But you knew. You knew it was Eddie leaving you little trinkets. Like a trail of rose petals leading right to him.

In between classes he would stare at you from a distance, right through the crowd and you would feel his blazing gaze on the back of your head which, without fail, caused your flesh to flush brightly with colour.

He couldn’t help it. You were stunning and the literal gal of his wildest dreams. His pretty little flower. He just wanted you to be his so badly that he was terrified of suffocating you with his presence.

He hadn’t spoke to you from that day in the hallway; he thought it safer that way. Wait until the date, and then let you decide how you feel about him.

The thought made him antsy and unable to keep still. If he had one wish right now, it would be to read your mind. Just so he knew— so he really knew. So he could please you and make you happy. No matter the cost. No matter the effort. He would do it.

He already felt so strongly about you; and that’s why it bruised his heart so brutally to see you giggling and talking with another bloke. Eddie had never experienced jealousy on this level before, but it felt Hellish. It felt intentional and spiteful and he couldn’t control the envious tears pricking at his waterline as he longed for you from afar.

He wouldn’t let you hurt him. He wouldn’t let you get close enough… not anymore. No matter how badly he wanted a life with you. He decided not to take the risk.

And little by little, the trinkets stopped and you only received one final note that Friday morning.

A cancellation letter.

‘Can’t make it tonight, see you around.’ - Eddie

The excitement you had for the night ahead fizzled out and died— sending your stomach sinking like a plane shot from the sky.

What hurt you most was that there wasn’t even an apology. You could understand being too bashful to ask you out face to face— but to cancel on you through a lousy note? You couldn’t understand that.

You thought you meant more than that to Eddie, you thought that he thought more highly of you. Felt more for you. But you must’ve been mistaken since you had to walk through his blizzard of a mood change.

He wouldn’t look at you anymore. His once warm gaze turned icy and much less frequent than before. You couldn’t think of what you had done to deserve this from him. His cold shoulder and snippy responses.

It was hurting you more than you could have imagined. You liked Eddie— you really liked Eddie, and to have him be so brutish toward you was dizzying. Upsetting. Penetrative; like a knife to your heart. Twisting and turning relentlessly. Unwaveringly. Suffocatingly.

But you weren’t one to back down from confrontation; you were going to get the truth out of him if it were the last thing you do.

-

It’s Monday afternoon and after working yourself up all goddamn morning you decide enough is enough. You can’t take it anymore. You have to know why.

“Hey, Munson!” Eddie’s brain hasn’t time to compute what is happening before you are stomping over to him, your arms flexed by your sides as your fists are balled tightly by your waist.

“What do you want?” His deep voice is rumbly and clipped as it leaves his throat and you scoff at his nonchalant tone.

“I want you to explain this.” The crumpled piece of paper is held slotted between your middle and index finger as you wave it like a white flag in front of his face, “I never pegged you as a coward, Eddie— really, I just don’t understand.”

Eddie’s ‘give no fucks’ attitude falters at your distress and he has to shove his hands into his pockets to keep his composure. He knows he can’t sweep you up into his arms and coddle you the way he wants— so he settles for this. Being a total dickwad toward the one girl that actually makes him feel something.

“What’s not to understand? I saw you with another guy and I took the fucking hint. Plain and simple. You don’t owe me an explanation and I don’t see why I owe you one, Princess.” He shrugs his shoulders in discomfort but to you it seems like utter ignorance.

His nickname for you tastes like battery acid on your tongue. A pill that’s hard to swallow. You don’t like this facade he’s putting up— not one bit.

“What are talking about? What guy?” Genuine confusion wraps itself snuggly around your psyche and it’s now Eddie’s turn to scoff in annoyance.

“Oh, please! Don’t act dumb, Sweetheart. I saw you and Eric together with my own two eyes. Giggling all cutely— showing him extreme interest. It was clear as day that you were into him.”

“Into him?” You echo, “I was simply being polite, Eddie. That’s the type of person that I am! Maybe you should try it sometime instead acting like an asshole!” The words spit from your lips like bullets and Eddie begins spiralling.

Had he got it all wrong? He knew you were a polite and gentle girl. It’s one of the many reasons as to why he liked you. He couldn’t help his mind from going to a dark place after seeing you together with Eric. It came to him as though it were second nature.

He had to run before he got gunned down.

“Wait-“ Eddie calls after you, his voice strangled as he leaves his post to jog behind you, his belt chain jingling with his movements, “Please!” His hand clasps your shoulder softly and you spin around to face him. Your face is flushed with anger and Eddie is taken aback from the look in your eyes.

He had seen it so many time before from his peers.

Distaste. Annoyance. Fear. Fury.

All so familiar to him; but they look so foreign in your kind eyes.

“What?” Meeting him with the same blunt force he displayed earlier has his heart clenching; bracing for impact.

“I… I misunderstood.”

“You think?”

“I just… I’m not good at this.” He gestures between the pair of you. A shaky breath leaves Eddie’s lungs and you soften at the sight of him becoming dishevelled in front of you, “I don’t know how to love. And… and I guess when I saw you with Eric it was my own insecurity eating me alive. I wasn’t mad at you, I was mad at myself.”

The metal head leans against a near by wall for leverage and you move in closer to him, magnetised.

“I saw the life you could have. The life you deserve… and it wasn’t with me.” His bottom lip quivers and you can see the struggle roaring in his eyes as he tries to contain his tears, “I’m afraid. I’m afraid of getting hurt and being the one that hurts you.”

The answer was clear as day to you. You knew how to love unconditionally. You could be the one to teach him. To guide him. Eddie needed reassurance; that’s all he needed and you could offer him that. You could work at this with him.

“You don’t get to decide who gets hurt in this world,” With shaking hands you reach out to touch Eddie’s face, your thumb stroking his cheek to catch a stray tear, “I can show you how to love. And how to be loved.”

You’re smiling like an idiot, your heart pumping hopefulness throughout your entire being.

“Yeah?” Eddie sniffles gently and you nod your head vigorously.

“Yeah.”

Slender ringed fingers curl around your wrist and Eddie holds on tightly to the warmth of your skin against his.

“You feelin’ reckless, Sweet girl?” The teary eyed man is smirking now and you fear for the future of your heart; it might just combust into flames at the sight of him.

“Well, that depends what you mean…” you perk a brow, intrigued and Eddie laughs.

“Let’s ditch next period and grab those milkshakes I promised you.”

And without any further hesitation, you allow Eddie to take your hand into his and lead you out of school grounds and toward the rest of your lives together.

-

taglist: @colorful-white-ideas @littlered0000 @ali-r3n @daisy-munson @serenadingtigers @rainybloo28 @munson-enthusiast @godcreatoreli @littlefreckles4 @what-the-jams @tlclick73 @ameliapond1995 @thepurplelovewitch @somethingvicked @costellation-hunter @munsonzgf @emxxblog @ingridvasquez @sadbitchfangirl @im-julessssss @munsonburn3r @unclecrunkle @cierra222 @ziggeddie @yarafae @sidthedollface2 @kellsck

[nahimjustfeelingit-writes]

I Put A Spell On You.

‘Smoke’wants you back, and he’ll do whatever it takes.

(Part one maybe?)

I put a spell on you

Because you're mine

You better stop the things you do

I tell you, I ain't lying

I ain't lying…

Word got around that Smoke was back in town. You couldn’t miss him with his snazzy suit’s silhouette characterized by broad shoulders, a high waist, and wide-leg trousers. A quintessential element in a man’s wardrobe. The whispers traveled to many ears, but it was only one pair he was concerned with.

Rosetta Scott.

A dilly he’s obsessed with. His soft-spoken jazz singer. She ended their relationship when Smoke decided to up and leave New Orleans with his ill-tempered identical twin brother, but he promised he’d be back and to write him. After two years, he’s back and ready to stake his claim on his woman.

Smoke hopped out of his Cadillac 16 cylinder wearing round, small sunglasses with wired frames. He removed his 8-panel hat and shut the door behind him. Smoke took a long drag of his blunt while staring straight ahead with a lopsided grin.

The reflection within the circular lenses of his dark frames was one he’d missed for years. A living tapestry of culture, history, and an unmistakable passion for life. This place, with its rhythmic streetcars and the spicy aromas from its kitchens, isn't just alive; it breathes stories at every corner.

Stretching his long legs with a purposeful gait, his expensive gaiters picking up dirt, Smoke pushed open the withering, wooden, hinge doors leading into a lively establishment. The smell of fish fry, sweat, cheap cologne, weed, and sex titillating his nose caused a wide grin to spread across his thick lips. He slowly removed his sunglasses, revealing piercing, brandy-eyes and a primal desire.

There she was. Doing what she loved. He was joyful. Proud.

laidback with rhythmic flexibility.

That husky breathy tone.

Her vocals always had a very raw unedited feel which made her songs feel more real and personal. She also tends to use harmonies and layering which sometimes gives the song a drowning all consuming affect.

The silk of her flowing silver slip seemed to mold into her hourglass frame. The premium fur shawl she wore hung loosely from her glistening shoulders. Her lips the color of ox blood stained the mic in front of her. The swing and blues notes with complex chords blending with her sultry voice had everyone on that floor dirty dancing.

Smoke broke his eyes away reluctantly, taking off his suit jacket, placing it on the back of a chair. He ashed out his blunt and placed it in the front pocket of his crisp, white button down. Smoke made his way towards the bar, unbuttoning his sleeves and his shirt along the way.

“Yes, daddy! Play that saxophone!”

“Sing it Rose!”

“Let’s Jive!”

“Ooooweee! If it ain’t Mr. Smoke Stack himself! Come over here!”

Smoke chuckled deeply before dabbing up his uncle and the owner of the establishment; Buck. His liquor breath and gold teeth were two things you remembered about Big Buck. Or, how he’d like to call it ‘I’m Big Buck and I like to fuck’. And boy did he get his share of pussy. He had eight kids to prove it.

“Look at my nephew! Now hold on…where is your twin?” Buck’s yellowing eyes wandered around in search of him.

“He’s handlin’ business. No time to settle. You know how he get. I had to break away tho’ I got business to ‘tend to.”

Smoke accepted a glass of whiskey and took a long sip. It burned so good down his throat.

“Yeah, uh-huh. We know why’s you here! That gal. You know she’s seeing someone else, right?”

The corner of his upper lip fluttered with disdain at the thought of another man touching his bitch. Smoke wasn’t having it. One look into his eyes, she’d fall into his lap again. Wet puss and all. She wrote him often. Sent him pictures. He’d gotten them all. So, was she doing all that while messing with some squat-ass fool?

“Gimme the low down, Buck.” Smoke insisted impatiently.

“Aight, nephew. Another?”

Smoke raised his glass, “hold the hail. I don’t need no watered down shit. I’m tryna get swacked.”

Buck’s gut laugh filled the cramped space between them.

“You remember Phonzo?”

“Shid, not pussy ass Phonzo? C’mon now gal…”

“Damn straight. He wines and dines her. Buys her shit…”

“She using.” Smoke replied.

He turned his eyes on her again. She looked so damn fine. Mmm. That body was nice. He could smell her perfume on his mustache. That amber scented flesh. Smoke knocked the rest of his drink back and stood from his seat at the bar. She ended another song and received a standing ovation. Smoke pushed his way towards the front but before he could get there, a man reached out to help her down. Her joyous laugh made Smoke’s stomach churn.

“Put me down, baby! I had too much to drink!”

“it’s Smoke Stack!”

All eyes fell towards the handsome gangster. Smoke ignored all except those pretty, doe eyes that locked on him with utter shock. Short and stacked. The finest woman in all of Louisiana. Ain’t no way she’s giving all that to Phonzo. Smoke pressed forward, his penetrating eyes racking over Rosetta’s frame. It was easy to tell the twins apart because one had a noticeable scar on his face and the other didn’t.

“Well I’ll be,” Phonzo secured his arm around Rosetta’s waist tighter, “Smoke. What’s shaking, man?”

Smoke’s lips remained tightly sealed and his eyes never left his Rosey. Tension was thick in the air like the sound of the powerful double bass.

I love my moonshine whiskey

Better than I do my man

I love my moonshine whiskey

Better than I do my man

You got have your beer in your bottle

Give me my cool kind hands…

“Rosey…”

Rosetta parted her deep-red lips to speak.

“Smoke…”

That voice. He’d missed it.

Smoke Stack was seeing red.

“Get yo’ hands off my woman, Phonzo.”

“You think you can just show up? This ain’t your woman anymore, Smoke. You proved that when you left her for the taking. Go on somewhere now…”

Phonzo attempted to walk away with Rosetta in his grasp, but Smoke swiftly grabbed her hand, swinging her over towards him with an expert twirl of her beautiful frame. She collided with his sturdy chest, her eyes staring up at him.

Rosetta was still trying to pick her jaw up from the floor. She couldn’t believe Smoke was back. The familiar warmth of his much larger and more powerful frame sent images swirling through her mind of the times they’ve shared. She hadn’t received a letter from him in almost a year. Every single day she worried herself about him. However, Rosetta had entertained the thought of being with Phonzo. Tonight would have been the night that she would have given Phonzo a taste of what Smoke Stack dicked down. It was an act of desperation.

“Rose! Whatchu doin’ gal? Don’t let this fool back into your life!” Phonzo reached his hand out for her to take, “I won’t leave you like he did. Remember? I promised that trip to Chicago. We can pack up and catch a train!”

“I’ll take her to Chicago, to Trinidad, Paris, wherever my money goes, she goes. You had your fun tryna get what’s mine. I suggest you fade, Phonzo…”

Um, make me another two bit pint

Um, make me another two bit pint

'Cause I've got my habits down

I'm gonna wreck this joint…

“Let’s go,” Smoke had a strong grip on Rosetta’s hand as he placed her in front of him to walk away.

Rosetta finally gathered her thoughts. She halted her footsteps inches away from the bar.

“Hold on, Smoke,” She pointed a red nail at him sternly, “How dare you show up here like this?! I haven’t heard from you in over a year! You can’t just walk up in here and whisk me away like some night in shining armor! Who do you think you are?!”

“Says which? I’ve written you!” Smoke shouted back.

“I ain’t get one letter in a year!”

Smoke kisses his teeth, “That’s some bullshit and you know it. Maybe the letters got mixed up…none of that matters now, baby. I’m back. For good now…”

Buck and another bartender watched the two of them go back and forth with amusement.

“We’ll see how long that lasts!” Rosetta sassed.

A gun clicking had Smoke on high alert. He pushed Rosetta behind him and turned, staring down into the barrel of a pistol. Phonzo was sweating bullets. He had two of his lackeys behind him, posted up like they were ready to do damage. Rosetta clung onto the sticky bar top, peeking around to see what the ruckus was about.

“Time to knock you off that high horse. You and that brother of yours don’t run shit ‘round here no more. Give me back my bitch, and we can get back to jivin’.”

“Excuse me?!” Rosetta argued, “I got your bitch—”

“Rosey, relax, baby. Daddy got this.” Smoke looked from the pistol pointed at his chest, to Phonzo with a sinister smile, “You off the cob or something, Phonzo?”

“You tryna make me look pussy in front of my boys?!”

Smoke tilted his head to size up his ‘boys’.

“They shakin’ in they boots just like you. C‘mon now, Phonzo. We can do this the easy way…you put that steel down, and walk away. I came for my woman and that’s it. Pick yo’ self up and use those bony-ass pegs and leave.”

Laugher erupted around them. Patrons watched on like it was a live performance. Phonzo always hated being the laughingstock. No one took him seriously. People tolerated him because Smoke and his twin skipped town to handle business.

“I ain’t going nowhere!” Phonzo yelled.

He pressed his gun into Smoke’s chest hard.

“Nigga, you ain’t got shit—”

Smoke picked up a bottle of Jack Daniels and cracked it over Phonzo’s head. When Phonzo dropped to his knees with shards of glass embedded in his face, Smoke snatched his pistol up and pointed it at the two men that were once standing proud. They both shared a look with each other before bending over to pick Phonzo up.

Smoke placed the pistol in the waistband of his slacks and snatched a handkerchief out of his pocket to clean up the blood that seeped from a gash in the palm of his hand. People were used to violence ‘round here. Too drunk, high, and horny to care about Phonzo bleeding out onto the floor. Buck didn’t blink an eye as he shined a new glass before pouring a gentleman a glass of top shelf whiskey.

“Get ‘em out. Don’t come back, nigga. I’ll use your pistol to put a bullet in yo’ head fuckin’ wit’ me!”

Phonzo—delirious and bloody—was dragged out of the juke joint by his two loyal men. Smoke knew that as soon as Phonzo regained consciousness, he’ll be on the hunt for him. Smoke was ready.

Smoke took a seat at the bar and pulled Rosetta into him. Blunt between his lips, glass of whiskey in front of him, Rosetta gave him a light, watching her daddy with lust.

You know I can't stand it

You're running around

You know better, baby

I can't stand it 'cause you put me down

Oh, no…

“Smoke, Daddy…”

Rosetta took the blunt from between his lips and hit it. He watched her with low, hazy eyes. All he did was walk through those doors. She was at his mercy like he’d never left.

“You’ll really take me to Paris?”

Smoke accepted his blunt, “I’ll take you all over the world, baby…listen, I know I got some makin’ up to do, but don’t you ever do no shit like that again, hear me? I’m a always come back to you…”

“You right about that makin’ up,” Rosetta giggled, “We got all night though. Phonzo was my ride home…”

“Here, go grab my jacket and we can go.”

Smoke tapped Rosetta on her rump and pointed to where he placed his suit jacket. He paid his tab and promised to be back to catch up with his uncle. Rosetta returned and Smoke grabbed her by the hand, ushering her out of the juke joint and into the murky night.

_______________

Smooth leather seats, a pistol on the dash, windows rolled down.

Rosetta and her fur shawl sat elegantly next to a hunk of a gangster. She admired the stain of her lipstick on his cheek when she stole a quick kiss while he opened her door for her.

She missed her Smoke Daddy so damn bad. It hurt to the bone. Smoke could feel her pretty eyes on him and he glanced over to her, giving her a dimpled smirk filled with mischief. They were halfway there to her apartment above a boutique.

“I missed you, Rosey. So much.”

I put a spell on you

Because you're mine…

“Where did you go?”

Smoke took a moment to respond.

“…My brother had business in Texas. Then we picked up some jobs throughout the south. Made enough money to last us a lifetime…Made some bad choices, but I’m richer. Stronger. Ready to sweep you off yo’ feet. I want you to travel the world and sing to audiences bigger than that hole in the wall. Serious, gal.”

Rosetta blinked away tears.

“Don’t do none of that, baby. No crying…”

“I’m just glad ya ain’t dead somewhere in a ditch!”

Rosetta accepted a clean handkerchief from Smoke. She dabbed her eyes to avoid messing up her makeup.

“I made a promise to get back to you and I meant that.”

Rosetta exhales, “I know, daddy…I just…I’ve been so touch starved. I would’ve given Phonzo all of me if you hadn’t shown up…”

Smoke’s nostrils flared and he looked at her with those dark eyes that made her clench her thighs.

“Phonzo don’t know what to do wit’ all that. And you belong to me. All of you. You make that pussy cum while Daddy was away?”

“Yes…but it wasn’t enough. I miss the fuckin’ we used to do…”

Smoke’s Cadillac slowed to a stop in front of the boutique Rosetta’s mother owned. She worked there for extra money, but now that Smoke was back, she didn’t have to work. Smoke opened her door and helped her out. Shutting it, they walked towards the shop and Rosetta opened the door with a single gold key. Smoke observed his surroundings with a sharp eye before following her inside. It was dark, but the moonlight ignited a path for them leading towards a narrow staircase leading up to Rosetta’s apartment that she shared with her mother.

She had some privacy for now since her mother went away to visit family in Baton Rouge for a week. The boutique was closed until she returned. Rosetta opened the door and flicked on a light. It was exactly how Smoke had remembered it. Small and cozy and blessed by a woman that practiced root work. Rosetta walked into their small kitchen and opened the fridge to grab a pitcher of water. She poured a glass for Smoke and herself.

“You can stay for a few days until momma comes back. It don’t matter how grown I am, she don’t like men over…”

“I get it. I’ll have a place to stay. Then you can leave here and be wit’ me.”

“Smoke…”

Smoke finished his glass, sat it on the counter, and pulled Rosetta close. His hands caressed her back and dragged down to cuff her cheeks. Eyes locked on her face, he brought his plump lips to her own, pecking them with soft kisses. Rosetta whimpered and shifted, slightly raising one foot. Smoke hooked his strong arm around her trim waistline. His other hand squeezed the flesh of her plump ass.

“You always know just how to push my buttons, don’t you, Rose? Couldn’t wait for daddy to come back?”Smoke asked with his lips barely touching hers, “That’s alright, though…Im gon’ remind you just who you belong to...”

Suddenly, Smoke delivered a series of sharp smacks to her behind without warning. Rosetta gasped as she felt the sting of each slap. 

“Smoke, I’m sorry…I didn’t fuck him…I swear.” Rose pleaded.

“But you gave ‘em hope. If I hadn’t shown up…”

His wide hand lifted her silk dress over her ass and he went to town whacking each cheek—left, right, left—the pain increasing. Rosetta buried her face into his chest, her lipstick staining his shirt. Smoke palmed her cheeks hard, savoring the heft of that juicy flesh in his rough hands.

“Damn,” Smoke stared over her shoulder and down at her rump, “this big ass…mmm…mmm…mmm…I wanna look at that pussy, baby…I still have that picture of your pussy in my wallet…”

Rosetta set up a camera and took photos of herself nude before sending them off to whatever address Smoke told her to send it to. He’d beat his fat dick every night to all her photos. He stole a pair of her panties as a reminder of her scent. Anything to keep his sanity.

“You do?” Rosetta stared up at Smoke.

“Yeah,” Smoke retrieved his wallet from his pocket. He presented the photo to Rosetta. It had cracks in it from being folded, but her hairy mound, phat clit, and glistening folds stood out against the black and white, “She still nice and bushy?”

Smoke had a thing for hair. He hated whenever Rosetta would do a clean shave. Since he’d been gone, she’d started shaving again. Luckily, there was enough hair there to satisfy his desires.

“Not too much, daddy…”

“Mm,” Smoke flicked his tongue against her lips.

“I want you to do it to me, daddy…”

“Do it all night long, baby?”

“Do it to me, papa…”

Smoke’s dick jumped and stretched to proportions he couldn’t handle.

“I wanna suck on that pussy first…”

Rosetta’s clit twitched at the thought of Smoke slurping on her pussy cat until she was wrung dry. She had a lot for him to drank up. When she first laid eyes on him tonight, the wetness soaked through and created a slippery, sticky mess. Those big lips and that thick dick…

“Let me smell it,” Smoke picked Rosetta up and sat her down on the cramped counter space, “Spread your fuckin’ legs you sexy, bitch…”

Rosetta made quick work of her thighs spreading wide and limber. Smoke could see a big wet spot in the crotch of her cotton panties. He didn’t waste time stroking the outlines of her fat lips that strained against the fabric. Smoke chuckled before slipping her panties to the side. His fingertips graced coarse hair covered in slick and heat. Beyond that was a clit made to be suckled.

“Shit, she still get nice and wet for me,” Smoke admired the shine on his thick fingers before bringing it to his nose to take a whiff, “fuccck,” He pushed his fingers into his mouth and licked them clean, “Fresh pussy…taste so good…”

He was down on his knees with his fingers tangled in her panties to keep them out of his way. Rosetta brought one leg up and it opened her lips more for him to eat. The humidity of that kitchen had their brown skin glistening beneath the dim, yellow, lamp lights. Smoke spread her lips and stared into her pussy. Rosetta stroked his slick-back, begging him to put his face in it.

Smoke buried his nose in it first. He rubbed her clit with the tip of his nose before using his lips to encase her clit and suck. He sucked nice and slow to warm her up, but then he created a vortex so tight with his lips Rosetta almost fell from the counter. The sucking came at a rapid pace—precise and intense.

“Uhnnn,” Rosetta gasped and moaned, “Daddy!”

Rosetta stroked her pussy many times to one of her favorite raunchy tunes. Jump Steady Daddy by Lucille Bogan stayed on repeat whenever she rubbed on her clit to the thought of her Smoke Daddy. She missed when he would come to her late at night, sneak in her bed and eat her pussy. She loved it when he would be on his knees, holding her weight up and fucking into her.

Love me, daddy

Love me all the time

Love me, daddy

Love me all the time

And if you love me like I did

You'll be that jump steady man of mine…

“Yes, ooh, daddy, papa,” Rosetta’s thighs shook out of her control, “Ima cum…Ima cum…”

The thin straps of her silk slip dangled from her shoulders and perspiration trickled down her spine. She didn’t have time to prepare before she was creaming down Smoke’s chin. All he did was suck her clit. He came up for air, lips dripping wet and face glistening with cum.

Her nipples poked out through her slip, teasing Smoke’s eyes. He was as hard as stone, unable to bear the feeling anymore. Smoke stood and picked Rosetta up from the counter, carrying her towards her room. The door was ajar, so all he needed to do was nudge it and he was walking inside. He didn’t bother closing the door. Smoke placed Rosetta on her back, climbing on top of her and sticking his tongue in her mouth.

Rosetta smoothed his button down shirt over his shoulders and Smoke pulled his arms through. He had on a white beater that clung to his muscles like plaster. Smoke broke his lips away and trailed kisses down her neck until he was at the tops of her breasts. Rosetta arched up into his chest, soft moans music to his ears.

Smoke used his teeth to yank the rest of her slip down, revealing 34 C breasts with large nipples that reminded him of chocolate-covered gum drops. Rosetta dragged her nails through his hair, messing up the smoothness of it, revealing waves. Her updo had come undone, finger-waved hair falling into her eyes. The salty, sweet taste of her skin caused him to growl.

“Daddy…I wanna taste that dick…”

With a deep exhale, Smoke stood up. Rosetta sat up on her knees with her dress around her waist and went to work undoing his slacks. She pushed down his boxers and his pants in one motion, his dick bobbing out like a pendulum and hitting her on the chin. Rosetta admired how girthy and veiny her daddy’s dick is. She licked up the precum before it was wasted and with her eyes on him, she wrapped her lips around him and sucked.

“Ahhhh…There you go, baby…that’s how you welcome me home…suck this big boy…gobble it up…”

Her soft hair in his grasp, Smoke’s toned hips pumped her throat. He curled his top lip, revealing golds, grunting at the feel of her tight throat.

“Ugh, fuck, baby…the best dick suckin’ bird in N’awlins…”

Rosetta giggled in response. She prided herself in her skills. Sucking dick and riding dick was her specialty. Smoke licked his lips, eyes barely open as he watched her. He tilted his head and started drilling her mouth. Loud gagging noise started, Rosetta’s once pristine makeup now running down her face.

“You’re so beautiful wit’ my dick in your throat, baby…make daddy cum…so I can fuck that pussy…”

His girth increased, Rosetta’s jaws tightening. She grabbed hold of his balls and worked her neck like no other. Smoke chewed on his bottom lip and threw his head back.

“Hmmm….mmmmmm….”

His hips spasmed out of control. Rosetta almost choked on his thick cum. She had to spit his dick out just to swallow what she could. The rest painted her chest.

“Turn that ass over,” Smoke stepped out of his pants and with one hand on his long dick, he pumped it, “On your knees, gal.”

Rosetta brought that ass in the air and arched her back deep. Smoke stood behind her with a big dick swinging. Rosetta hadn’t felt it in two years. She was afraid. Shaking with fear. He had to open her up again.

“Use them big girl words and tell me what you want,” Smoke slapped her cheeks around, “Where you want this dick?”

“Daddy, fuck me!” Rosetta begged.

His dick aligned with her ass and with his big hands he tucked it higher. Smoke grunted and slapped her bouncy cheeks.

“Ouch! Papa…” Rosetta cried, more from surprise.

It hurt so good. With hands as large as his, he managed to cover a wide area of her ass, leaving behind a burning sting that only made her wiggle her ass against him. Smoke rubbed her down before digging his fingers into the flesh, spreading her wide, and thrusting into her.

“Oh, my! Smoke!”

Rosetta’s ass recoiled and bounced off of Smoke’s sturdy hips. He had her by the hair, keeping her back arched. That man was fucking her like he was fresh out of jail. His thick shaft gave her stretch and his length made her feel it in her stomach. The sound of her wet pussy matched the skin-slapping.

“Big dick on you! Fuck!”

Smoke let go of her hair and grabbed her hips. Rosetta looked back at him with her mouth agape and brows knitted together in disbelief. His hair had puffed up and some strands fell over his forehead. He looked wild and sexy. Muscles flexing, golds flashing, eyes unblinking.

“Keep fuckin’ me, papa! Fuck this wet pussy, daddy! Oh my goddddd—”

Rosetta fell forward and buried her face in the sheets.

“Uh-uh,” Smoke brought one leg up, leaned over her, and wrapped a hand around her throat, “You can take this dick. Get that shit you want so bad,” Smoke said.

Every cry or whimper that came out of her mouth, he responded with an evil chuckle or a groan of his own in her ear.

“Grip me up like that…good girl…that’s it baby…”

Rosetta felt hot liquid trickling down her thighs. Tears brimmed her eyes and her body seized up with her release. Smoke withdrew his hips and got down behind her to lick her up. He licked her thighs, then trailed his spit to her folds. He rolled her onto her back and scooted her towards the edge of the bed. Ass hanging off, legs thrown over his shoulders, Smoke put that dick in her pussy and pounded up into her with sharp thrusts that had her toes curling.

“Oh, shit!” Rosetta and her swinging titties couldn’t handle it, “Damnit, Smoke! I’m cumin’ !!!!!”

Scooting her onto the bed, he pile-drived her into the creaky mattress. Folded in half was an understatement. She stared down the valley of his impressive body at his dick.

“Big Daddy!” Rosetta pressed her feet into his chest, “Fuck me good! Take this pussy!”

“This my fuckin’ pussy…”

Smoke slammed into her before dropping down to kiss her soft lips again. His thrusts turned into modulated pumps that caused her to gasp. Each time his dick would enter her, she would gasp with surprise. Smoke nibbled on her pouty bottom lip and stared into her eyes longingly.

You know I love you

I love you

I love you

I love you anyhow

And I don't care

If you don't want me

I'm yours right now…

“Cum for me Smoke Daddy…”

His forehead furrowed and with one more sharp thrust, he erupted deep in her womb.

———————-

[wh1msic4lwasab1]

𝐜𝐡𝐮𝐛𝐛𝐲 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐱 𝐡𝐬𝐫/𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐧 𓍼 𐙚 𓍢ִ໋🀦

art cred: gnillhem (x), howdong_ (x), mimmirii_ (insta)

❀ synopsis: how various men would love their chubby gfs <3

❀ genre: smut

❀ a/n: as a chonky gal myself this was so fun to write, also this was an ankn req from my old blog!

❀ tags: nsfw, mirror sex, praise, explicit, vulgar, cunnalingus, riding, fluff(?)

❀ Gallagher- You can’t tell me this man isn’t obsessed with curvy women. Absolutely enthralled by all your dips and mounds; feasting his eyes all over your figure and making sure no one in the bar ogles over you too hard. Just a little is fine though. Only a little.

He’s definitely possessive over you, but not controlling in the slightest.

In public, he’ll hug you from behind and squeeze you lovingly. And when you nap he’ll lay his head down on your stomach with his body inbetween your legs, loving when you graze your hand through his hair.

His hands though, love to hold every part of your body when you’re on top of him; especially your hips.

“Oh, god, right there,” you moaned, as his hands gripped your hips, guiding your movements up and down his cock. You could feel the heat radiating off his body as your skin pressed together, each movement sending a wave of pleasure through your clit. He relished in the feeling of your soft skin under his fingertips, his hands roaming up her back, down your sides, never wanting to let go.

“You look so fucking beautiful,” he whispered, his breath hot against your ear. He looked at you like you were the only woman in the world.

❀ Wrio- Doesn’t necessarily care about body types, but is obsessed with thighs. Doesn’t matter where, if he’s seated next to you his hand will be placed on your knee like a brace. He rubs them with his thumb, even if he’s driving they’ll be all over you. He’s always touching you, feeling your skin against his.

Oh yeah, by the way, he’s obsessed with your thighs. So much so that he’d do anything to be buried in them.

“Stay still…” He’d plead, muffled monotone coming from between your legs as is face is stuffed in the middle. His tongue traces up and down your exposed slit, hands gripping onto the fat of your thighs as his face is completely engulfed from side to side, marked up with marks of his teeth and colors of deep purple from his tender kisses.

“Wrio-“ You moan out- tempting to open your legs as the pleasure arose, earning a loud and stinging slap on your ass from your lover.

“Still.” He affirms, continuing to wring all the cum out of you, lapping it up while massaging your thighs with his palms.

❀ Diluc- Incredibly flaunting of you, you’re his beautiful prized possession. Not that your a trophy wife, but it would be a crime against teyvat to keep the world from seeing you.

Diluc especially loves to see you in the finest silks and chiffon.

The only thing he loves to see you in other than the most expensive fibers, is just nothing at all.

Every time he undresses you, his breath hitches at the sight of your benevolence. He loves the way you feels under his touch.

His favorite way to undress you, is right infront of the mirror. Standing behind you, he unties the buttons that trail down your back. It’s his favorite dress on you, but it’s subjected to the cold marble floors like every other peice of clothing he’s torn off you.

Slowly he drops the sleeves down, moving your hair out the way so he can plant kisses to your neck, one hand snaked around from behind you to hold your neck. The other groping and squeezing your breasts, before trailing down to feel your wet folds inside your panties.

“Pull these off.” He says, and you eagerly comply, sliding your panties to the side as he watches you infront of him in the reflection.

He takes in the sight before him, his eyes roaming over your exposed body, making you feel vulnerable yet completely safe in his embrace. 'You're perfect,' he whispers, before he turns his lips to descend on yours, igniting a fire within you that can only be extinguished by him.

It’s not long before he has you sitting on the dresser opposite of the mirror so he can force you to watch him fuck you. So that you can see how hungry he is for you, with your own two eyes.

whimsic4alwasab1 ™ - do not copy, translate, modify, or claim any of my work as your own.

[utterlyazriel]

love will unravel me (so please keep your hands held tight)

sorry if ur seeing this twice !! i am a finicky gal and was tooo sad it didn't appear in the tags so forgive me for the repost <3 it's good ol' hurt/comfort

It's unnerving.

To know something is somehow... wrong and yet, not be able to put your finger on it. Something being off.

There had been something off since your return from the Illyrian Mountains. Like a scar you hadn't ever remembered getting, like a lump in your bed that hadn't been there before.

You had returned to the Night Court only the night before, far later than expected. It had been near twilight, yourself kept late in the war-camps dealing with the unpleasant likes of Lord Devlon. All you wanted to do was to crawl into your waiting bed.

But your bed wasn't empty.

The perfect shape of your mate, tucked beneath the blankets, is one you could recognize in the dark. Even then, you had felt the strange difference — a tickle along the nape of your neck, enough to make you shiver.

Drained of your energy, you carelessly ignore it. Chalk it up to the bad feeling you got every time you went back to those gods forsaken war-camps.

Beyond their terrible ways and nearly tyrannical leaders, your own mate's history there was enough to make you want to burn it to the ground. To scorch and salt the Earth so nothing could grow there for a hundred years as proof of the pain.

So, feeling weary, you crawl into your bed. Your eyes find Azriel sleeping beside you, silent as always, and you trace the delicate features of his face in the dark. Even in his sleep, his shadows, lazy and slow, greet you as a slumber begins to wash over you. The lull of dreams comes quick.

As does morning. But come morning, Azriel isn't there.

Not the most unexpected thing; there were early morning trainings frequently enough. However, Azriel loathed each time you were sent to monitor over those war-camps. He bristled silently each time you left and rejoiced in that quiet, tender way he did best when you came back home to him. A mission in Illyria usually guaranteed a morning in bed with your lover.

Today, the sheets are cold.

You frown as you push yourself up, the sheets pooling at your waist. Faintly, at the back of your neck, you feel it once again. The tickle. Frown deepening, you reached your hand up to scratch at the back of your neck absentmindedly. Your eyes fall on the door.

Like a mystical tug, you feel compelled to search for the Shadowsinger — slipping out of bed silently, the tiled floor is warm from the morning sun beneath your feet. You pull the door open an inch, wondering just where your mate has ambled off to this morning.

As you step through the door, drawn by your mysterious compulsion, you don't turn back to check behind you.

And even if you had, your eyes would glaze over the large Illyrian, still bundled up in your sheets, turning over in his sleep.

—

You find Azriel out on the balcony, not in training as you had suspected.

He's facing out towards the city, his hands braced on the marble, his strong wings held proudly behind him. Interestingly, his shadows have forgone him this morning. Not one of them is in sight. You sidle up to him, feeling more yourself already just seeing him.

"Abandoning me in bed this morning?" You begin, playfully. You reach out to loop a hand through his arm. "I thought you had promised me—"

Your words come to an abrupt halt as Azriel shifts before you can touch him, his arm pulled out of reach.

In fact, as he notices your presence and turns to you, he takes an entire step backward. His handsome face screws up, a frown set on his brow.

"Don't." He says severely.

Your chest pangs with hurt. Your eyebrows crowd together in your confusion, concern beginning to melt into your blood.

"Az?" You say tentatively. You want to step closer to him, to cradle his face in your hands like you do whenever he has that crushed expression on — but a greater part of you fears he may retreat from you again.

"Don't call me that." He say, voice lower. His head dips, turned away from you to hide his face. Your concern swells, a thousand alarms ringing inside your mind. The back of your neck tickles again.

"Azriel," You try again desperately, fighting to keep your voice even. "What happened? What's going on?"

Confusion paints every thought in your mind as it whirls and searches, hunting desperately for the cause of your mate's sudden iciness. Was it something you had done? Was it taking another mission to a place you knew he so despised you going to?

The Fae before you doesn't say a word.

"Azriel," His name comes out a plea, unable to help yourself. It only scratches deeper into your soul when he maneuvers again, quicker than you, purposefully evading your touch.

"Stop." He instructs, the word nearly a growl. His voice is alike to the bark he uses for talking down to unruly war-camp Lords. It's nothing like the soft, sweet tone you're so accustomed to. It makes his words sting even more. "Your touch disgusts me."

You reel back at his words, a sharp inhale shooting to your lungs. What? You could feel your mouth opening and closing, no words coming to fruition. Behind your eyes, you can feel the itch beginning. You will your tears away, confusion still the dominant emotion swirling inside.

"I—" You stammer. "I don't understand."

Azriel snorts, unamused. He crosses his arms across his broad chest, looking more intimidating than usual as he draws to his full height. He keeps his eyes on the ground but the expression on his face looks... bored.

"I've had a revelation."

Another ache resounds through your chest. Why is he being so cryptic? Since when... had disgust been something Azriel had ever associated with you? You shiver at the prickle that rolls down your neck. It's as though you had gone to bed and your mate had been switched in the night.

"Az, you're scaring—"

"Stop calling me that." He snarls, interrupting you. You jolt in surprise, your feet taking a step back. With the way he's leering over you, a hint of anger —anger you've never seen directed at you before— creeping into his face, something akin to fear grows within you.

Azriel is stronger than you and far more deadly. A fact that usually provides comfort, for the first time, only grows your unease.

"Don't you want to hear my revelation?" He asks, his growl barely reined in. He smiles down at you but it's not soft in the way you know. It's cruel.

You take a step back. Something is wrong— terribly, entirely and utterly wrong with the love of your life. Panic begins to bubble up, like waters rising in a sinking ship.

You need to find someone else. You need Cassian, need Rhys, need anyone else here to help because you are the worst person to help. Every word he says cuts deep to bone. You can feel your heart bleeding within your chest.

It has to be a trick.

That was all you could think. Your mind was stumbling over the sentence over and over, almost delirious in how it clung to the thought tightly. It must, it must —you hoped it was. Begged it to be.

You take another step back, ready to dash through the house and call for help — but Azriel takes another step toward you. Your fear spikes, looking up his snarled face, the power within him radiating off in waves.

"I came to realise that I don't—"

"—y/n?"

A voice cuts in. There's someone else on the balcony with you. Thank the Mother, you think to yourself, whipping around to find Cassian in the doorway. He's got a furrow in his brown, concern written all over his expression.

"Cassian," You breath his name in a sigh of relief. You step back again, hyper aware of how Azriel seems to take the exact same amount of steps as you, following you to the door. Your panic flares away, your breaths coming fast and short.

"Cassian, thank gods—" You begin.

"What's happening?" He interrupts urgently. His eyes are on you alone, never flickering across to Azriel out on the balcony. "Why are you— did you have another nightmare?"

"Nightmare?" You repeat, eyes wide as you stare at him in concerned bewilderment.

You're about to point out the very large intimidating Male staring you both down when Azriel speaks again.

"I said," He drawls out the word and your head snaps back to look at him. You fail to notice that Cassian doesn't even turn at all.

"I've had a revelation, my dear."

It all sounds so terribly sarcastic, such a far cry from your stoic, sincere mate. You cringe, already feeling how his next words will be made cut you down.

"I don't want you anymore."

"—what can you see?—" Cassian's voice speaks from beside you, fuzzy and out of focus. You stare at Azriel, your heart beginning to hum and fizzle, a thousand fissures breaking upon the surface.

An anguish so deep in your bones rattles through your body — and across the House of Wind, your real mate wakes up with a gasp at the feel of it.

"What?" You croak, unable to tear your eyes away from Azriel.

You can feel Cassian's hands on your shoulder, shaking you, but you can't— you won't look away. Something deep within you compels you to watch him break your heart and shred your soul. The back of your neck singes with heat.

"—What is it you're seeing?!—" Cassian's voice dips in and out. His hand sweeps your hair back, looking for any ailments causing this. He finds it in an instant. "Holy Cauldron, your neck. Oh, that's so not good. Rhys!"

He bellows for the Highlord right as Azriel, the real Azriel, bursts in through the door — following the taut agonizing pain in his chest, that connects you two together. His eyes snag on you and Cassian, out on the balcony, and his brother turns to him but you do not.

"Azriel," Cassian warns. "It's a Vesania Sigil."

Azriel pays him no heed, even as the words echo through him with a darkened dread. His stomach turns, bile threatening.

A Vesania Sigil— his knees nearly threaten to buckle beneath him.

A Vesania Sigil is a sinister curse, placed on people to drive them to the brink of insanity, minds scrambled to exhaustion.

In all the times Azriel has seen them in his long lifetime... they have all been on dead Fae, driven to the point of taking their own life. His shadows burst into a frenzied storm.

Your eyes are fixed somewhere out of the balcony, a glaze to them that tells Azriel you're seeing something different than he can. Softly, as gently as he can, he strides out and Cassian steps back to let him. Azriel steps down onto the balcony beside you, slowly, delicately reaching out to touch you.

You startle, head snapping around to see who's touched you. Except when you drag your gaze up and meet his face, you flinch hard. Azriel feels misery twist deep into his heart, some buried fear within him coming true before his eyes.

You take a step back, stumbling as you do. Then your head turns back out to the balcony—then back to him, back and forth.

"W—What?" You stammer out.

It takes Azriel only one second to realise why, and to feel the agony as he does; you're seeing double.

When you had said he's everything to you, you had truly meant it. He is both your greatest love and... your greatest fear.

Azriel can feel Rhys' arrival somewhere behind him, can even hear Cassian's concerned voice filling him in but his entire focus is locked onto you. You've stumbled back again, falling painfully on your backside, barely catching yourself on your hands but something— someone on the balcony keeps frightening you.

Something in Azriel screams; how can he fight an enemy he cannot see or touch?

He's on his knees before you in an instant. You're beginning to tremble, silent tears on your cheeks and Azriel's heart wails as you look upon him with a face for a fear. He can't tell what you're seeing but he just needs you to see him.

"My love," He says, voice quiet as to not spook you. You whimper at his words and something shrivels up inside Azriel's chest. He continues, noting how your eyes flick rapidly between his face and something over his shoulder. You shuffle back, too hesitant to trust him.

"My love, my moon," He murmurs, gently reaching out for you. His shadows zip forward, soothing along your skin. You flinch back again but Azriel holds strong, nudging forward until he's touching your skin.

You wince and screw your eyes closed and Azriel can feel the fear, the tormented pain that pours down the bond. He can see it now, this close, the seal that's burning against the skin of your neck. A fiercely protectiveness anger burns in his gut and he vows to tear apart whoever did this to you, limb by limb.

"I don't know what you can see," He say, soft as he can. He lifts his other hand and cradles the other side of your face. Your eyes peek open. "But it's not true. None of it."

Your lips are quivering, lashes sparkling with how they catch your tears. Azriel feels sick to his stomach again; he could do a thousand battles with countless weapons but this is something he's entirely powerless against.

"Azriel," Rhys speaks up from behind, voice cautious. Azriel ignores him, his thumbs stroking softly over your face.

"It's not real." He says with more urgency. Your eyes dart over his shoulder again and a whimper slips out your throat, your body tensing. Real, raw pain scratches it's way down the bond.

"Azriel, I can get it off her." Rhys voice again. "You just need to keep her still."

Azriel nods, but doesn't turn, doesn't take his eyes off you for a single moment. His heart squeezes and cracks, a thousand shards littered through his ribcage when you finally speak. Your glassy eyes have lost a little of their glaze, fixed on your mate in front of you with a desperate plea.

"He—" You begin, sucking in a harsh breath. Your breathing is too fast, your heartbeat too. "It- it fucking—it looks just like you."

"It's not." Azriel assures in an instant. He keeps his eyes fixed on yours, trying to be the picture of calm for you even as his heart warbles in agony at your pain. "It's not me."

Your eyes shift over his shoulder again and Azriel moves this time, blocking your view. "Don't. Keep your eyes on me. Look at me."

Silently, Rhys kneels at your side, his violet eyes blazing where they’re fixed on your neck. Undoubtedly, this was not such a personal attack but something to harm the inner circle. As darkness begins to swirl from Rhys' fingers, orbiting the sigil, you begin crying again, fresh tears spilling down your chests as little gasps wrack your frame.

"It—" You gasp, suddenly focusing desperately on Azriel now that you know who's who. "It— gods, it sounds so much like you."

"It might, but it isn't me." Azriel promises. He aches when your hands suddenly shoot up, eyes screwed shut as you clamp your hands down over your ears — like whatever you could hear was causing you physical pain. Rhys mutters something under his breath, his hands still working.

"Eyes on me.” Azriel urges, knowing you can hear him. You whimper and pitch forward, forehead bowing to your knees. His hands fall away as your head begins to give tiny shakes, side to side. His shadows swarm your shoulders, unsure how to help.

“Don’t—“ For the first time, Azriel’s voice falters with a wobble. He tries not to think of the countless warriors who have fallen beneath a sigil this strong and mentally roars at Rhys to move faster. “Listen to me, my love. Listen, listen to my voice, please.”

Your breathes are ragged, staggering inhales as you press your head between your knees. You entire body shakes and Azriel dares to steal a glimpse at the back of your neck — the intricate rune imprinted on your skin shimmering black as it slowly seals.

"Keep," Rhys grits out, his concentration still focused on his power. "her still."

Azriel's hands dart out, already apologising at how he has to force your head out of hiding. You gasp and sob, pulling back to resist but Azriel holds tight, his hands holding your face as tenderly as he can.

He pushes forward, crowding in, until his forehead rests against yours. He summons everything he can within himself, every ounce of devotion he holds for you and send its down the thread in his chest til everything burns white hot.

"Look at me, my love. Show me your eyes. Listen to my voice." Once the silent stoic type, Azriel lets everything that comes to mind fall out his mouth.

Your eyes crease open, flush with tears, and you shudder against him but Azriel feels it. The push back. The press of your skin against his, trying to get closer, trying to get to safety. Rhys curses for a moment, his dark magic still swirling and Azriel resists every urge to howl at him to hurry.

"Tellmetellmetellmetellme," You chant in a whisper, half delirious. You're flicking between his hazel eyes, your hands still half over your ears, body still wracked with quivers.

Tell me. Azriel's soul feels marred at the reveal of what is taunting you and he strokes his thumbs over your cheeks, drawing your attention to him.

"I love you," He says, voice sounding close to wrecked. "I love you and you're mine. I'm yours and you're mine."

You shudder violently, eyes crushing closed, right as Rhys pulls away with an exhausted sigh. It's gone. Azriel hears Rhys' voice in his mind but it's not even needed — not with the way you suddenly slump forward into him, like a puppet with its strings cut.

"It's okay, it's gone," Azriel murmurs lowly, gathering you up in his arms as much as he can. He can feel your body shaking against him, sobs still forcing their way up your throat. His wings wrap around you, an inky cocoon of safety, sealing you off from the world.

"It's gone," He repeats, his arms circling around you. He can feel the pitter-patter of your rabbiting heart, feel the remains of fear that hang around your system. Every cell in his body yearns at this injustice, the fabric of the mating bond sending his protectiveness into overdrive. But more than the urge to hunt and maim whoever harmed you is the overwhelming need to make sure you're safe.

"You're safe now, I swear. It wasn't real." His assurances continue softly, his body instinctively beginning a slow rock to soothe you. You sobs slow to cries, your hands twisted tightly into his sleep-shirt. "I love you. I love you."

By the time your breathing evens out and your hiccuping cries slow, it's some time later. Your face has been buried in Azriel's chest and when you finally dig it out, Azriel's heart disintegrates once more at your blotty skin, your tired eyes.

You don't even have to ask.

"Vesania Sigil." He says quietly, hazel eyes burning into your face.

You can feel his writhing worry through the bond, like a caged tiger, fiery hot and licking at your heels. You give a little sniffle. Open your mouth to speak and find not one word in your throat.

Azriel's moving deftly before you can think, his strong arm looping beneath your knees to scoop up you against his chest. You let yourself be coddled, thankful to the way he curls himself around you entirely, wings hiding your view — only a flash on the ceiling to be seen. You're not sure you can face the others just yet.

The door your bedroom opens as he nears and Azriel kneels on the edge of the bed, his strong thighs maneuvering you both up til he's rested up against the headboard. Pure exhaustion like nothing you've felt before creeps up from within you.

Yet even so, you feel your heart twinge. It's been chafed raw today. Your hands slither and squirm, til they're wrapped tight around Azriel's middle and he hums protectively, his wing draping over you like a blanket.

For a moment, there is only weary, tired silence.

"Tell me?" You ask in a whisper, your voice so, so small. Azriel aches at the pain in your voice, sending every assurance down the golden thread between you.

"You're mine," He says, voice hushed and yet doused in his love.

"I'm yours." You echo, voice a little stronger than before. He can feel the way you tug on the bond, as if checking its still secure— still unbreakable. "And you're mine?"

Azriel folds himself even closer and tugs back on the bond strongly. His scarred hand glides up to bury itself in your hair, massaging slow and sweet. His nose nuzzles in against your hairline, his lips pressing a kiss wherever they find skin.

"And I'm yours." He agrees.

[writtenbymoonflower]

hey lovey!! 💐 I just wanted to say I ADORE ur writing & I'm currently binge reading all of them <⁠(⁠///￣⁠︶⁠￣⁠///)⁠>. but I did want to request something silly, since I've been thinking about poly!marauders being with the reader. and her calling them "girl" accidentally instead of their usual endearment 😭. and the reason is because her friends use it a lot and it just kind of rubbed off on her ?! I would just like to imagine their confusion 😭 anyways pls have a lovely day/night <33

I love this! Also sorry this took so long. I left my computer charger at home while I was at uni but I got it back!

wc 710

You were laid on the settee, still slightly sweaty from your hot walk back from class. You would’ve reached for Sirius if you didn’t think you would make his clothes damp as well. He was doing some kind of work on his computer next to you while James was in the kitchen fixing you both something to eat. These little quiet moments were sometimes your favorite, just being comfortable in each others silence. Especially considering how your boyfriends could be such chatterboxes.

That didn’t mean that you didn’t enjoy rambling to them, though. You just didn’t feel the need to fill comfortable space with flippant comments. You were almost asleep when you heard the click of the door being unlocked.

Remus stepped inside in his usual meticulous way, hanging his coat neatly on the coatrack, unlacing his shoes and lining them up by the door rather than kicking them off, and placing his crossbody bag carefully on the bench by the door. All before calling out a gentle “I’m home.”

“How was work, love?” James responded from the kitchen, scrubbing his hands in the sink.

“Long.” He groaned. “I’m going to shiv Michael. His unplanned vacation is really disrupting my schedule.” He grumbled. “Going to have to catch up on my classes too.” He sighed, more resigned than annoyed.

“Want me to go to your work when he’s back and give him a hard time?” Sirius said mischievously, beckoning the sandy-haired boy over.

Remus just chuckled softly in response before kissing him on the top of the head. He turned to you, face etched with exhaustion and affection. “How was class today, dovey? Did I miss anything?”

You reached for his hand, pressing a kiss to his knuckles. “Nothing important. It was just a catch up day.”

He hummed in satisfaction, reaching to stroke your jaw. You leaned into his touch sleepily before your eyes popped open and you jolted upright.

“Holy shit, I can’t believe I almost forgot to tell you. Girl, you will not believe what Molly said to me today. I-“ You were cut off by a surprised, if not amused look on Remus’ face and a barking laugh from the kitchen.

“Excuse me, what?” James choked.

You turned around, looking at him confused. “What?”

Sirius was also smiling, holding back a laugh. “What did you just say to Moons?”

You paused, eyebrows raised in confusion. “I said that he wouldn’t believe what Molly-“

“No no no.” James chuckled, cutting you off. “What you said before that.” At your continued bewilderment he clarified. “Angel, you called Remus ‘girl’. Did you not mean to?”

At the realization on your face Sirius breaks down. Shaking with nearly silent laughter. Remus’ eyes just roll into the back of his head, clearly amused but not willing to put on a spectacle.

“Sorry Rem.” You said, sheepishly. “It was unconscious.”

“Unconscious!” Sirius hoots. “Is that what you call us in your head, gorgeous? Are we your gal pals?”

“I think we are. I didn’t realize this was a girl’s gossip sesh in, lovely.” James teased. “I would’ve bought ice cream and wine.”

“The two of you.” Remus admonished, looking at your still shy expression with terrible kindness. “You don’t need to apologize, dove. It was just funny. You’ve never been one to say that before.”

“Not to you.” You said quietly. “I’ve just been talking to my friends a lot lately-“

“You don’t have to defend it. We want you to talk to your friends.” James jumped in to comfort you.

“I’m glad you consider us your friends, baby.” Sirius said, half kindness and half joke. “It shows that you’re comfortable with us.”

“I am.” You reiterated. “But I won’t call you it if it upsets you.” You said sincerely.

“It hardly bothers me, dovey.” Remus reached over to squeeze your hand.

“I just can’t believe Remus is the girly.” James chuckled, forcing his face into a pout. “I’m offended, sweet thing. I thought I was your gossip buddy.”

“You are!” You said severely. “You all are.” You reached for your other two boys. “Now can I please tell you what Molly said?”

“Of course, girl. Spill the beans.” Remus said, deadpan.

It took you a while to stop laughing before you could continue the story.