#but he also shows you who he is and tells you a sliver of the truth

[dragonseeds]

there’s a horrible sickness in me that makes me want to stop and replay da:i whenever i start a different game. how am i supposed to resist the story of my own unwilling apotheosis? especially as lavellan, who doesn’t believe in the maker and who has every right to hate and mistrust the chantry but chooses to use what power they have to try save people, to fix what’s broken, no matter how afraid they are or how careful they have to be. walking side by side with the great trickster god/adversary of your people without knowing, befriending him, changing his mind about this world but ultimately not his choice. he understands what’s happening to you because it happened to him once and he gives you his castle, built over the place where he sundered the world, and paints your story there in frescos that will last long after you’re gone and after the story has been retold and reshaped so many times that the truth of who you are and what you did is lost—just as he did his own story, which was lost and perverted by war and propaganda, and he shows all of this to you knowing you’ll understand because you’ve lived through something similar, grown into something larger than yourself and your true name, and it doesn’t change anything but. he wanted you to see him just for a moment, even if he can’t tell you everything (or almost anything) and you can’t save him—because he owes it to you as a someone who is a friend, almost an equal, and because there’s no one else left who knows: a direct result of what he did to your people and which he now seeks to undo at the cost of this world.

[nothing-nothing454545]

i hate hazbin because the writing is all over the place and the fact they market what it is as a queer and progressive show pisses me off, you hate it because the art style has angles and that one guy has animal ears. we are not the same

[tojisun]

EXPAND ON THIS

https://www.tumblr.com/tojisun/758472884430716928/no-matter-how-hard-you-try-you-just-cant-make

AND MY LIFE IS YOURS

aww im glad that u (all) liked that blurb!! didnt expect the vitriol in ur guys’ reactions but ykw? samesies <3 oki uhh so heres something quick and simple

cw: fivesome (but they go in order, also simon doesnt properly get a turn im sorry 😞); f!reader; subspace; builds up into consensual noncon; unrealistic sex; rambly as hell and its set up messily; wc is 3.6k :’3

(you tell them it’s a wrong send, and that it’s meant for johnny so they all said, “oh damn. welp,” and leaves you and johnny to go at it all night long teehee <33) (jk) (unless) (no ok im jk)

johnny fucks you first. the guys didn’t complain, and trickled into your room, ready to fall to whatever place they could sit down to watch. johnny laughs, and tugs you towards him, gently slapping your hand away when you try to cover yourself up with your shirt, and tells them, “watch me.”

not us, but me. like you’re a nameless hole whose only worth is to be fucked, and somehow that… doesn’t deter you at all.

instead, you ignore the warmth flooding in your cheeks and the stares that drag on your body, and focused on johnny’s smirk and his crooning words and his wide palms roving over whatever sliver of your skin he can touch. he positions himself in between your legs, his fatigues an uncomfortable sensation against your oversensitive skin.

he doesn’t care. he drags down his zipper and frees his cock from his briefs, before swiping his palm on the inside of your thigh, gathering the excess lube glistening there to use it as oil for his prick. your nose scrunches when he brings his hand to give himself a quick tug, foreskin peeling from the head to show off how flushed it is.

he crawls until he’s on top of you, and throws out, “let me show ye how to fuck ‘er, yes?”

you don’t even realize the words are for the rest of the squad because he’s already slipping his cock in your cunt, slow and careful, and you keen because yessss—

this is the delicious burn you’ve wanted. oh god oh god—

it didn’t even take johnny long before you’re cumming, your throat spasming at the scream that rips itself out from within you. your hips rise from the bed, your body jolting, unable to ground itself at the breaking euphoria that forced shockwaves to raze your synapses.

you fall on the bed limply, satiation filling you up in lapping waves. johnny pulls out and fucks his fist and sprays his cum all over your stomach. he musses it up, rubbing his palm against it like it’s a damn lotion, and lathers whatever inch of your belly he can cover.

it’s gross and weird, especially as the recollection that you’ve had an audience hits you, but then johnny’s stepping back and moving away. you try to shut your legs close, but someone’s already shuffling in, taking up the space that johnny had carved out.

you stare up at your captain, shock filling you up. he doesn’t ask with words but he quirks his brow up, waiting, and you don’t know what it is, but you give him a nod before ducking your head to the side.

which was a mistake, you learn, because you make eye contact with kyle; kyle who is—was—slowly rubbing himself through his pants, his palm gliding over his chub. his eyes are blown wide and he looks ravenous as he meets your gaze.

you hiccup, feeling cornered and delighted at the same time, but then john’s rubbing his cock along your messy folds, using the mess you and johnny made to lube himself up, and you mewl, tearing your eyes away from kyle to meet john’s stare head on.

he looks… calm. not teasing nor hungry, but poised with forced grace like this is another mission, and he has willed his full body to sync together so that not even a stray strand of hair will falter and miss a beat.

you don’t know how to position that with yourself, not like you needed to dwell on it any further because john’s already thrusting in. like johnny, he is careful, but he is more cautious, pushing inch by inch without even a ragged breath like he’s scoping out your reaction before he could let out his.

god, why’s everything so difficult with him—even now, speared with his cock, you still don’t know how to react. it’s like you’re a recruit all over again, dawdling underneath your CO’s scrutiny. it’s jarring, terrifying, really, but then john’s drooping onto you, his head tipping down to nuzzle close to your jaw, and this level of intimacy is what rips a moan out of you. it is drawn out and high-pitched, and so, so utterly debauched.

you hear more than see john’s pleased laugh, his breaths coming out in puffs that brush against your neck in a ticklish manner. the moment drags on—nuzzles and quiet huffs, and slow rocks of his hips almost like he’s taking his time to savour you; to allow you to get used to his size because he’s so different from johnny.

johnny is thick, but john is long. he is reaching deeper than you have ever known, and it’s so overwhelming that you begin to cling to him, in need of any way to ground yourself down from the slow-racing pleasure.

you don’t know how long he’s got you like that, but then he’s pulling back and away, and, “nonono, please. please, sir—”

“shh, i’ve got you,” he rumbles, still so utterly quiet that it forces out the tears faster, and you know something’s changed because john is looking at you with a proud smile, all tactile as he manhandles you to your side, before disappearing behind you. you feel your head being lifted then dropped onto something harder than your pillow, and it is only the smell of ozone that lets you know that john had pillowed your head with his arm, while the other snakes around your waist to pull you closer to him.

you stare at the expanse of your room but everything looks like they’re appearing underneath a hazy filter, so you blink your eyes to clear them from that mist but it remains unchanged. you feel heavy, all of sudden, like you’re submerged in water, wading through the ripples. floating.

you try to look at the others but all you see are blurs of colours, and you know this should terrify you, you know something’s happening in your mind, but you feel so good. so happy. so you fold into yourself, accepting the haze with a keen because john’s fucking back into you.

it is still so utterly gentle, like love-making, and this makes you sob because the euphoria is dizzying and overwhelming. it is something you haven’t felt before—johnny fucks you like a man starved; john fucks you like he’s trying to meld himself into you. or you into him.

it is so drastically different, and you were made to navigate the changing tides. but you can’t, not when john—

“fuck!” you scream, thrashing in his hold, but john ignores your voice as his heavy hand falls on your cunt with consistent smacks.

you feel lightheaded, untethered, and this is what pushes you to the edge. your orgasm is cataclysmic. it’s like having the fabrics of your reality collide until you are a supernova, bright and burning and so, so, so ecstatic.

you don’t even know how you came down from that high, but when you wake up, john’s already pulled out and your thighs feel extra sticky. you sniffle, turning to accept the quick kiss he leaves on your cheek. he pulls away and you watch him sink back to the lone chair in your room, and only then do you realize he’s still in his uniform. still in the fatigues.

it makes you extra vulnerable somehow and you twist, trying to find anything to cover yourself with, but your shirt’s been thrown to the floor, far from your reach, and your blankets were kicked off the bed.

you grumble, shyness encroaching again now that there’s no one to monopolize your attention, but a movement from the corner of your eyes makes you jolt. you turn, forcing your eyes to focus, and you blink in surprise because you are sure that kyle wasn’t there before—close to your shelving that is stuffed with little knickknacks and souvenirs brought to you by the boys when they take on separate missions that don’t require your involvement.

the same shelving where you’ve plopped your charging vibrator on. the very same one that is being held up by kyle.

“kyle?” you ask, unable to say any more with how wrecked your voice has become. but the call echoes like a gunshot in the suddenly stifling room, and they all look at you as one. like it didn’t matter if kyle was the one holding the wand because they all knew what they want, and it is to see you be fucked with it.

excitement fills you up despite the throbbing exhaustion settling in your bones, and you wonder if they could scent it with the way the pressure in the room grows heavy, almost bladed—ice shards against still waters.

kyle moves towards you and your eyes track the wand, almost hypnotized by it, and watch as he drops it on the mattress to shuck off his clothes. it is only then do you turn to him, hungry in the way you devour how he moves, how he breathes, how he unbuckles his belt.

his trousers come first, then his shirt. kyle is a catastrophic wonder—seeing him naked like this makes your core throb, aching need stretching in the yawning of your stomach, because he is so beautiful, terrifyingly so.

he reaches for your waist and drags you so you’re laying on your back again, your legs sprawled out on either side of his hips. he looks down at you, his eyes crinkled in his smile. he looks so charming, boyish and youthful, and he makes you thrum with quiet desire because you feel safe even when you’re bare before him.

you feel particularly cherished, like you are the apple of his eye.

“you’ve been so good to us, love,” he murmurs, but in the silence of everyone, his voice bounces off the walls, seeping into where the others are, watching raptly once again.

you nod, not knowing what else to say. kyle chuckles, the sound trickling like quiet chimes, and you wonder if he’s doing this for you—talking to you in whispers to give your body time to come down from the tremors, or filling you up with something other than a cock because johnny had come in scathing, and john had pierced you with something consuming, and kyle—

kyle is trying to distract you.

you’ve forgotten about the toy, sitting there so innocently. it’s out of your reach, tucked preciously close to kyle’s left leg the way he treats all his smaller guns—never straying beyond his person, and hovering close. you’ve once asked him if it wasn’t more comforting to have it on him where he can feel its weight and kyle had looked at you with that soft smile like you’ve uttered something so delightful, before telling you, “there’s a certain pleasure in having it displayed.”

like a promise and an assurance—he will always be faster; the one who is more in control.

and today, kyle is treating the wand with the same vehemence.

you didn’t even know you were already shaking your head until kyle had cupped your cheek, quiet sounds of comfort rumbling from his chest.

“don’t worry,” he says, eyes blazing with a terrifying promise. “all good girls have to be rewarded.”

kyle doesn’t fuck you with his cock right away; instead, he’d bent over and took a nipple into his mouth. it makes you gasp, back arching at every wet suck. there is pleasure to derive, but it is so muted that you begin to settle back into your mattress, waiting, almost in bated breath because kyle has yet to reach for the wand.

you jolt when he finally uses his hands, stomach tensing in anticipation. but still, kyle doesn’t reach for it, and instead he swipes a finger to your slit. your pussy’s still so sensitive so it makes you buck, a sharp animalistic sound tearing from your throat, and kyle takes advantage of the sudden change in the pace.

he slips in two fingers in your cunt, curling to poke at your walls, before fucking them out—he lifts up and sucks your other nipple—and punching them back in. it’s a wet slide, each thwaps ring in your head, and you moan, clawing at kyle’s back because how could he make you feel good just like this?

it’s almost a laughable parallel—just an hour ago, you had been in the same position, with your legs parted open and two fingers fucking in, while your other hand flicks at your nipples because you had so desperately wanted any form of orgasm. god, it didn’t even need to feel ecstatic, just something that’d rip your aching need into quiet tides. and now here you are, spread open with kyle mirroring every flick of his fingers and every pinching sensation on your nipples, and he is making you feel good.

how dare he. how dare he give you unadulterated pleasure with just his fingers? how could you ever go back to masturbating now that he’s even triumphed over your previous failures, showing your body that there are ways to make your toes curl without a cock nor a toy?

how dare he—

“no!” you whine, circling your hand around his wrist when he pulls out. you were so close; its tendrils spreading all over your body in the wake of your encroaching orgasm. you thought you were going to be rewarded? kyle promised. he said so!

“oh, love,” kyle coos, breaking through the swirling turmoil in your head. “i’m not done yet, i promise.”

you have to bite your bottom lip to stop the sob that is lodged in your throat as you watch kyle give his cock a pump before lining it up with your cunt. unlike johnny and john—and the reminder that they’re there, with simon, makes you jolt for a quick second—kyle doesn’t press in slow nor gentle.

no.

kyle punches everything in. you scream, the sound guttural as you are filled so quickly and so deeply, leaving you to feel the sudden crescendo of your pleasure. your body spasmed—because there was nothing else that could explain the sensation of having all your synapses sing with a ripping pleasure—before you black out for a second.

you come to the feeling of kyle’s hand mapping your belly, digging just enough that his fingers dimple your skin. you are still stretched and stuffed, and the remnants of your pleasure fire up again.

he flicks his eyes up to you with a smile. “came so soon f’r me, love.”

your only response is a gurgle. it makes kyle laugh.

“that must mean y’r ready for something else, yeah?”

a confused whimper bubbles from your throat. kyle just snaps his hips in reply, rendering your mind shut again. you hear him shuffling against the sheets, his free hand reaching for something you cannot see, and you feel your mind pressing at its edges, trying to retrieve the memory of what it is he is looking for because you know what it is, you’re sure.

buzzing noises fill your ears, the sound ricocheting around the space, and your body locks, recollection slamming into you. you tear your gaze away from the far wall to look at kyle.

you wonder what your face must’ve looked like because kyle begins to croon.

“i’ve seen this from a homemade porn video.” he shrugs at the incredulous expression on your face. “and i’ve always wanted to try it because sweetheart, they didn’t press it on her clit.”

what—

kyle moves, his body rippling with ease. you don’t notice but the boys crowd in, interest bright in their eyes. only ghost continues to be rooted in his spot, and it is only his head tipping to the side that lets the others know he’s just as interested.

kyle presses the toy on your belly. your nose scrunches in displeasure because it just feels like you’re being massaged incorrectly, but he keeps shifting, hunting, and it’s weird because kyle’s still in you so what—

you gasp, eyes widening at the odd sensation. kyle freezes, his body curling into something predatory, and digs your wand there on your—

“no way,” johnny laughs, and you want to snarl at him to go away but you can’t because he’s right.

no way.

kyle had pressed the vibrating bulb of your toy just below your belly and slightly before your upper pelvic area—kyle had pressed the toy on your womb.

the pleasure is new, uncharted, and it is petrifying because you’ve never felt this way before. you didn’t even know it was possible to stimulate yourself there, but kyle’s already resuming the pace he’d set, fucking his cock in deeply almost like he wants to feel the buzz from within.

you begin to sob but the tears feel different this time. they’re still out of pleasure, but the swirling surprise melts the euphoria into something frightening. you don’t even realize you’ve begun to babble.

“no more!” you hiccup, weak fists thumping against kyle’s chest only to be restrained by john and johnny, each man pushing them down with their own hands.

everything feels too scary, all of a sudden. this pleasure of yours is bigger than you have ever expected and it’s building up too fast and too soon, and still, kyle remains unfazed.

“i’m scared! i’m scared, kyle please!”

your words turn into unintelligible warbles, and kyle just says how you are so adorable like this.

“y’r pussy’s going stir crazy, baby,” he croons amidst your tears and you want to scream at him, to be mad and say something mean, but you feel so utterly lost in the bubbling bliss.

it is something you’ve never felt before; it’s almost like you are relearning your body at this very moment—like kyle is unmaking you, and remodelling you, and you feel this cathartic bloating of your orgasm.

kyle sees the moment you succumbed to the enveloping terror of your euphoria, and it’s like he’s been waiting for this moment because he begins to fuck you faster. deeper. his pelvis meets the plush of your ass with every thrust, while he digs the toy further down your flesh.

how could the vibrations ripple past the fat, you don’t know, but your orgasm is building, peaking—

it breaks with another scream tearing from your lungs. this one is much stronger than the previous ones, and enveloping because it feels like your whole body has shut down in the wake of your release.

your mind splinters, your body falling limp like your strings have been cut loose, and kyle turns forgiving again because he shuts the toy down and throws it away. he pulls out and only then do you feel the trickle of his cum sliding out of you.

he leans in, brushing his nose over your cheek. then, “just one more, little bird.”

kyle slides off the bed, but so do john and johnny, and you hiccup, still sobbing, still floating from the world-shattering climax, when simon greets you.

he is quiet for a while, watching as you catch your breath. you couldn’t even stop yourself from sniffling, tears pooling in the corners of your eyes to stain your already blotchy cheeks. he grunts, hand falling to brush unimaginably soft touches across your body, observing.

waiting.

“was’it?” you finally bite out because you know simon—you know ghost—and there is something that’s sitting on the tip of his tongue that he so desperately wants to spit out.

simon grumbles, rolling his eyes.

you groan, growing impatient. “tell m’.”

but he still doesn’t talk, choosing instead to manhandle your body until it is close to him. you want to tell him to give you a minute; that you’re still so sore and tired, and kyle just fucked you mindless that you need a goddamn break, so, “s’mon, no…”

he grunts, palming along your waist, then your hips, before it stops on the fat of your ass. he grabs a handful.

“won’t you let me fuck this hole instead,” simon finally replies.

your heart lurches to your throat, and you’re not the only one surprised because johnny’s bounding in close, excited, chatting simon’s ear how he wants to go next, “please, LT?”

you want to tell him to ask you, not simon, but simon’s already giving his assent with a huff, chirping how johnny’s so impatient—a master and his dog—before they turn to you again.

it is only then do you realize that simon hadn’t been asking for proper permission; it was all formalities because he was not going to settle for anything that isn’t yes.

anal sex hasn’t been something you are really interested in; no amount of porn and online anecdotes can change your mind, but simon’s gaze is heavy. it’s final.

before you can even reply, john’s already throwing something to simon. he catches it with ease, and only when simon flicks his hand do you recognize it to be the lube you’ve chucked away in your anger when this whole night started. kyle returns with the wand.

you lay there, on simon’s lap, seeing them flanking you for this… corrupting.

“okay,” you muster, trying to stake even a semblance of control.

thankfully, they ignore the shaking of your fists or the way your chest begins to heave in your morbid anticipation. simon laughs, and swoops down to nip your cheek.

“good girl.”

whew whyd it become a long ramble of smut??? it was supposed to be a john n johnny centric fucking bc of the prelude but alas, i needed to write a semblance of dark!kyle so here we are <3

temp taglist bc yall are animals (affectionate)!!!: @getosuguswhore @slut-lmao @mxtokko @imjusthereforkonig @bratzdolly4 @mabelwinters @stars4sar @sergeant-jasper @spiceywawa @j0r-d1e

[mattslolita]

she - c. & m. sturniolo ( 002. )

in which . . . the new girl down the street catches the attention of two brothers who grow infatuated with her.

( ghostface!chris x black!fem!reader x ghostface!matt )

warnings ; black!bimbo!fem!reader , ghostface!chris , ghostface!matt , obsessive!chris & matt , blood , gore , knives , mentions of death , eventual smut , threesome , dry humping , backshots , bigdick!chris , unprotected piv ( wrap it freaks! )

"o𝒏𝒆, 𝒕𝒘𝒐, 𝒚𝒐𝒖'𝒓𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒈𝒊𝒓𝒍 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒊 𝒘𝒂𝒏𝒕."

pt. 1, 2, 3, 4 💌

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨ ʚɞ ୧⋆ ˚｡⋆⋆ ˚｡⋆୨ ʚɞ ୧⋆ ˚｡⋆⋆ ˚｡⋆୨ ʚɞ ୧⋆ ˚｡⋆⋆ ˚｡⋆୨ ʚɞ ୧⋆ ˚｡⋆⋆ ˚｡⋆୨ ʚɞ ୧⋆

it had been three and a half months, and your relationship with chris and matt had blossomed — you had grown extremely close to matt and chris.

you were so oblivious to all the things they'd gotten out of you, every little secret you carried — they let you cry on their shoulder when you did bad on a test, or when someone wasn't so kind to you. and oh, don't let them have found out about the dozens of guys who flirted with you and tried to talk to you. . .they took notice of it all, calculating exactly how they would "handle" each and every guy. hell, even some of the girls who talked to you in that way was watched carefully, and matt and chris didn't hesitate to take care of them, too.

matt and chris never let you out of their sight, either — you were always telling them wherever you went and how long you'd be there. you'd made other friends during your time at school, and if you only knew what they did while you were gone.

multiple pairs of your favorite thongs had gone missing over time, yet you hadn't suspected a thing or knew the reason why; did you ever question why certain people in your class stopped showing up? would you ever notice the small clicks from a camera outside of your bedroom window when you sat alone in your room, in nothing but your bra and panties? looking ever so inviting, freshly out of the shower as you laid back in your bed, small noises of pleasure escaping your lips as you touched yourself to the thought of your newest best friends — oh it was so wrong of you, yet you didn't have any intentions of stopping.

( would you ever have noticed matt outside of your bedroom a night ago, watching you as he too palmed himself through the fabric of his boxers? )

this night in particular, you had finally gotten a chance to wind down from school. your parents were out working late like usual, which left you to the company of yourself. you had grown attached to being with matt and chris all the time, yet you didn't want to bother them by asking them to come over.

instead, you sat against your bedframe, remote in hand as you mindlessly clicked through the tv channels. you had a sliver of your hair between your fingers, curling the dark strands as your mouth was fixed into a pout whilst your eyes stared at the screen with disinterest.

around this time, you were expecting a call from a certain someone — ever since that one day, you'd receive a call from him every two days out of the week. it was wrong to indulge in the mind games of a stranger you didn't even know. . . ( or did you? )

the taboo event was exciting to you, as this is something you've never done before — your parents knew nothing about it, which worked out perfectly, yet it was also odd considering they only seemed to call when your parents were away ( oh poor, innocent you. . . ) you never even confided in your best friends about your secret, finding it embarrassing. ( but what if they knew about it all along? )

a soft sigh escapes your lips and you're about to have given up the tv altogether. . .but as you quickly click off of the news, you're quick to click back, as a headline has your eyes wide with horror.

"reports from an older couple on loomis lane called into the boston police station to report a murder of seventeen year old stephen myers."

a gasp leaves your lips, tears immediately filling your line of vision as you hold a shaky hand up to your mouth, shaking your head slightly. "the poor young man's body was gutted, left hanging from a tree. at the crime scene, forensics and investigators have found a charred mask, its mouth fixed in a permanent scream, symbolizing like something out of a horror movie."

you felt bile threaten to rise from your stomach, the contents you ate from earlier today almost coming up — you knew stephen myers. he was a cute boy in your class who had just asked you on a date that same day. and he was found dead?

"police have issued a city-wide curfew throughout boston, until this ghostface killer has been caught. please stay safe and on high alert. back to you, miss prescott."

your breath caught in your throat as you stared at the screen in both shock and utter disgust — how is it that someone you've barely gotten to know had been dead in less than the 24 hours of you knowing them? this instilled fear within you, and you suddenly pulled the covers up close to you.

suddenly, a loud tapping noise startles you, causing a loud shriek to leave your lips as your eyes stare at your bedroom window in complete horror — heart still pumping rapidly, you put a hand on your chest when a familiar set of brown locs are pushed back from his blue eyes, cheshire grin peering at you as he gives you a small wave.

you roll your eyes but suck in a sharp breath, ripping the covers away from you as you quickly bound over to chris at your window.

"you scared me so bad!" you hissed at him, pulling the window up all the way. a breeze sifts past you, causing you to shudder as chris chuckles at your reaction.

"aw, sorry bout' that ma," chris teases you, reaching in the window to poke you in the side. you glare at him unimpressed, crossing your arms across your chest as you mean mug him. he rolls his eyes at your petty behavior, running a hand through his locs as he nods to the window. "kay' fine, sorry, alright? now ya gonna let me in, or what?"

with a heavy sigh, you moved to the side to allow chris access to climb into the window — you watch as his taller frame expertly climbs inside, and every time he does you're so surprised, as it seems like he's done this so many times before.

"have you watched the news tonight?" you ask chris, not facing him as you close your window behind him, "i can't believe it..."

"yeah..." chris answers, but his eyes are scanning your room as if he's been in there for the first time.

he looks over your bed, analyzing the order of your stuffed animals — his eyes then drift over to your desk, eyes intently focused on the order of the little things that lay scattered about the small space. his eyes then flick over to see you standing near your bedroom window, worry filled within your own eyes as you looked out into the looming darkness.

"whatcha thinkin' bout, hm?' chris asks you, flopping down on your bed, leaning back towards the headboard. he motions for you join beside him, licking his lips as he watches you, "c'mere."

a sigh escapes your pouted lips, as you shuffled over to the bed next to chris — his eyes shamelessly rove over your barely exposed bottom half, your ass cheeks almost protruding out of your small, white shorts. the bed dips beside chris, and you sit as close to him as possible. his arm almost instantly comes down to rest over your shoulder, as he grins runs his fingers through your ponytail.

"i just can't believe stephens gone," you whisper, shaking your head.

"i can," chris shrugs, his expression void of any emotion.

your eyes immediately snap over to him pure shock — how could he say something like that about his classmate? you weren't really sure if chris or matt had ever had any problems with any of your classmates, but to completely be nonchalant about someone dying?

"chris!" you hiss, lightly smacking his chest, "how could you say that? that's so messed up!"

"kid was a dick, y/n," chris sighs, running a hand along his face as he slowly turns to face you, "sides', he was always flirtin' with you an' shit. he was a player, too."

your nose scrunches in confusion, as you lean towards chris more as his eyes bore into yours. "wait, what does it matter if he flirts with me or not?"

chris's eyes narrow as he takes his time checking you out from head to toe — your face heats up as his eyes graze from your face, to the bare side of your neck, down to your chest. chris's eyes linger there for a beat longer, and he licks his lips as a small grin takes over his features. your legs instinctively press together, and you find yourself aroused at the way he took his time looking at you.

"look at you, angel," chris whispers, swiping his thumb over your lips as he gently caresses your cheek. his eyes lower to your lips, before they flick back up to your eyes, "nobody fuckin' deserves you."

a soft gasp leaves your lips as chris expertly hoists you up and onto his lap. his eyes never leave yours, predatory gaze locked on you as he holds your hips firmly in his grasp.

your eyes graze over his lips ever so invitingly, and chris smirks slightly as he watches your eyes — his own eyes lock on your lips, and he begins to lean up slowly.

his breath tickles your jaw, and your eyes flutter shut as you both lean in — his lips were soft and warm, and your arms melted together as they wrapped around his neck. you'd never imagined you'd be here in this scenario, kissing one of your best friends, but here you were — and truthfully? you've been wanting this for a long time.

chris's lips are hot on yours, his tongue messily swiping across your bottom lip, asking for entrance into your mouth. a low moan leaves past you as chris explores your mouth, his grip on your hips harsh as he groans, rolling your hips down and that's when you feel his erection under you.

a whimper leaves your mouth as you grind down on him, his lips parted slightly as he watches the way your own mouth falls open slightly, as you continue grinding down on him needily.

chris attaches his lips to your neck, nipping and biting on the supple skin there, causing a moan to leave your lips as his hands guide your waist up and down. your panties are now soaked with your arousal, and now all you want is to be filled up with chris inside of you.

"c-chris, please," you whimper out lowly, fingers slightly tugging at his brown locs, causing him to groan on your neck.

"aw what's that, ma?" chris taunts you, sending a smack to your ass as he comes up from your neck, a smirk on his lips, "want me to fuck you, don't ya?"

"yes..." you nod, big eyes staring down at him.

his erection seems to grow larger as he hurriedly takes you off of his lap, standing up at the foot of the bed as he stares down at you — you tilted your head slightly, doe eyes looking up at him in confusion.

"wha-"

"all fours sweetheart, now," chris growls, yanking his pants down. your eyes are immediately drawn to the very large print in his boxers, and you bite your lips as you nod and do what he says.

you took your shorts off, revealing your bare pussy — chris lets out a groan, shoving his boxers off next as his eyes rove over your bare cunt, dripping and waiting to be fucked by him.

you slowly turn around, face down ass up as you await chris's next move — another low grunt leaves his lips as you feel his presence now looming over you, watching you with hungry eyes. a whimper leaves your lips when chris's fingers glide across your pussy, collecting your slick. he slathers it on the tip of his cock, throwing his head back as he runs his hands along the tip of his cock, teasing himself.

"p-please, need you-"

your words are cut off as a moan replaces them, when chris's cock slowly begins to enter you. he lets out a low moan, gripping onto your hips harshly as he slams his own hips into you, ripping a loud moan from you.

"oh gosh!" you cry out, back arching almost immediately as chris pulls out, just to drive himself back into you, "s-so big!"

"that so, sweetheart?" chris groans, wrapping his hands around your throat, pulling your head back so that his face was level with yours, "fillin' you up jus' how you wanted, yeah?"

"y-yes," you moaned, the bed board creaking as chris continued ramming himself inside of you from behind.

the slapping of skin sounded throughout the house, and you were sure the neighbors would hear and probably tell your parents, but you didn't care — the pleasure chris was giving you was so good all your thoughts about getting caught went out the window. the only thing you could focus on how good his dick felt filling you up, hitting your sweet spot repeatedly.

"fuck, y'so fuckin' tight, ma," chris rambles, driving his cock deeper inside of you, "could be in this pussy all night, baby...feel so fuckin' good, would fuckin' kill anybody over this pussy..."

a loud moan escapes your lips as chris's vulgar words, causing him to narrow his eyes at you with a predatory gaze, watching the way your back arched for him and him only.

"yeah, y'like that?" chris groans in your ear, tugging on your ponytail as his hips snaps into your ass, cock abusing your gummy walls, "want me to kill somebody for ya? y'know i would, angel. would fuckin' murder anybody for you..."

( little did you know, he and matt had already done that earlier today. )

"c-close," you choked out, incoherent babbles leaving your lips as you struggled to keep your head up. tears pricked at your waterline, the pleasure intense as you felt the pressure building up in your stomach.

"gonna fill you up, ma," chris moans, his hand going down to rub circles over your clit. a loud cry leaves your lips as the double pleasure, chris's cock still drilling into your pussy. "c'mon baby, give it to me..."

"chris, chris, chriss..."

his name is like a mantra on your lips as you cum around his cock, decorating the mushroom tip with your arousal — his hips stutter, and you can feel his cock twitching inside of you signaling he's about to cum too. with a few more thrusts, chris's hips sputter as his cock fills you to the brim with his hot, sticky cum, painting your velvety walls a white color of his release. he rides out his high, pulling out of you which causes you to hiss slightly at the overstimulation of your raw, sensitive pussy.

"fuck," chris grunts, running a hand through his now sweaty locs, pulling his boxers up over himself, "y'okay, sweetheart?"

"yeah, i'm good," you nod weekly, looking up at him with a sweet smile causing him to grin.

"bet ya always wanted me to fuck you, huh?" chris smirks, leaning down and planting a kiss to your cheek.

your cheeks heated up in embarrassment, to which he lets out a chuckle — chris gently strokes the side of your cheek, biting down on his lip before he plants another kiss to your lips. "i'll see you tomorrow at school."

"um, okay," you nod again, watching as chris hurriedly goes over to your window.

you watch with your eyes slightly widened as he opens it up, climbing out of the window with ease — he turns to you once more and flashes that famous cheshire grin of his, before disappearing completely into the darkness of your backyard.

you couldn't believe you'd just let one of your new best friends fuck you. but you couldn't deny how palpable the sexual tension had become between you and the both of them, and you just knew it was bound to happen.

( rule #2 : never have sex. it's a gateway to all the rest of the sins. . . )

you let a sigh slip past your lips as you finished cleaning yourself up, putting back on your nightly attire. but before you could tuck yourself back into bed, a loud ring of your landline nearly startles you half to death as you gasp loudly, clutching your chest.

an excited sound leaves your lips as you bite your lip in anticipation — it was surely him. it was foolish of you to continue conversing with a stranger, especially with a psychopathic killer on the loose.

but unfortunately, your naivety took over, and you answered the phone.

"hello, darlin'," the deep voice purrs from the other end, causing you to giggle as you twisted the cord around your fingers.

"hi, you," you say back, looking around your room as you settle your legs underneath yourself, "so what's got you callin' me up tonight, huh?"

"y'see beautiful, the exorcist came on last night, an' it got me thinkin' of us," he tells you, causing a chill to go down your spine.

"really?"

"really," he says, and you found your cheeks warming up once again. "but i'm afraid your best friend might get in the way of us."

"my- what?" you ask him, looking around but this time, it was in panic.

"oh you heard me, doll," he drawls, and you can almost hear the smirk in his voice, "could've sworn he jus' left ya house after you fucked, am i right?"

the blood drains from your face upon the realization that you were being watched — a soft whimper leaves your lips as you quickly get up to lock all the windows in your bedroom, and you hurriedly closed the blinds shut. you could hear a sinister chuckle leave his lips on the other line, causing another chill to go down your spine.

"i- what do you want from me?" you begin to sob quietly, putting a hand over your face in shame. how could you have been so naive?

"to see what your insides look like," he snarls, causing a gasp to leaves your lips.

"it's you. you're the ghostface killer."

"so smart doll, look at that," he purrs, causing you to pull your legs up to your knees, rocking back and forth slightly, "now if ya follow my rules, i'll spare your life. how's that sound?"

nothing but a small whimper leaves past your lips, and you can hear him groan on other end. "need to hear your words, sweetheart. now answer the question."

"yes, i'll follow your rules," you nod, "but please don't kill me, mr. ghostface."

( lilly's corner 💌 )

YIPPEEEE ITS HERE !! so sorry it took much longer, had alot going on i fear. BUT I AM SO EXCITED FOR Y'ALL TO READ PART THREE ! what are your predictions??

taglist🥝 : @muwapsturniolo @thenickgirl @luverboychris @cottoncandyswisherz @chanelles-world

@sturnprime @middlepartmatt @chrissturniolossidehoe @sturniqloo @chaossturns

@fairyrcts @mbbsgf @sturnsxplr-25 @moonk1ss3d @oliviasturniolo21

@wh4re4chratt @cyberdre4ms @angvlarabella @pvssychicken @lovesturni0l0s

@delilahsturniolo @venusxsturnio @chrissystur @sweetangelgirl7 @wovenribbons

@chrispotatos @chrissystur @jetaimevous @55sturn @yn-ws

@onotsandoys

[swampjawn]

What happens when you let a film nerd make an anime?

Fuuga Yamashiro (山代風我) joined Science Saru in 2017 as an Assistant Production Manager during production of "Night Is Short, Walk on Girl." He was essentially Studio Co-founder Masaaki Yuasa's secretary, but he worked his way up to assistant director on "Keep Your Hands off Eizouken" and finally got to direct his own first full Anime series, Dandadan.

Having worked so closely with one of the greatest living auteur directors, you might think he would share that overpowering individual creative influence, but as he has pointed out in interviews himself, it's much the opposite.

Instead of relying on his own creative voice, which he doesn't seem confident about in interviews, he literally collects techniques from his favorite movies, breaking them down into storyboards and adding them to his arsenal to re-contextualize later. And as you may be able to tell from watching Dandadan, his biggest influences aren't anime and manga, but live action film -- something he seems to have studied obsessively.

And when you compare the anime to the original manga (which itself is already filled with references to old movies and TV) subtle adaptation choices make the deft application of techniques borrowed from other storytellers very clear. Every choice is made for a reason and furthers the story being told in some way; nothing is there for no reason. like the simple, controlled camera pans and tilts that make the serpoian spaceship feel cold and sterile, or the crazywackysilly, un-predictable wide-angle camera movements that intrude on that cold sterile world when turbo granny shows up.

In one interview during the production of "Keep Your Hands off Eizouken" Yamashiro pulls out his notebook where he had collected all these techniques and gives an example:

"There's a technique called 'Dolly Zoom', which is a technique that changes the perspective of the background while keeping the size of the subject." […] "In 'Cult of Chucky,' which I saw recently, there is a scene in which a long passageway is filmed in telephoto, while a wheelchair moves forward. The character is 'getting closer, but the viewer feels farther away'. This is the kind of thing I collect." […] "I'd like to combine these things in various ways and do it in animation." (I took some liberties with this, the translation was pretty rough)

And sure enough, that exact same type of dolly zoom rears its head in Dandadan as Okarun sprints away from Turbo Granny and the mouth of the tunnel stretches impossibly into the distance.

It may seem counterintuitive to ascribe too much importance to the creative vision of one person who specifically talks about his own lack of strong creative vision, (and to be clear, he's far from the only person playing a major role) but I think it's precisely that encyclopedic knowledge of film techniques and that pragmatic, meticulous attitude that may have acted as a stabilizing force for Yuasa, and that also provides some needed structure to a ball of pure energy like Dandadan, while still preserving its essence and the eclectic influences that it wears on its sleeve.

Also, mad respect for using the seventh installment of the Child's Play franchise as your example of a dolly zoom instead of, like, Vertigo, Jaws, or Goodfellas.

This is just a sliver of what I talk about in this full video! A minuscule piece of the pie! Some tiny little crumbs for the peasants! So if you consider yourself worthy, go watch the whole video. I think it's good.

Uhh also reblog! I spent way too long on that intro animation, so I need it. Bad.

[gatorbites-imagines]

Love me some bratty wolverine but I NEED my obedient sweet sub too 😋 wolverine who's just so desperate for praise and being told he's good, needy and never knowing how to properly ask for it and just ending up whining and pleading to near tears.... letting you take all the control and being so frightened and uncertain until you're showering him with reassurance and praise

Logan Howlett x male reader

Headcanons

Super exhausted, we did an event as my new education place (what do you call the place you take a bachelor’s degree in english?) that went until ten in the evening, so I’m still pooped. Hope this is still enjoyable though.

How’s everyone else been doing lately? This ended up being more focused on the comfort and relationship part of it, but I hope that’s good too.

I believe the Wolverine from the Deadpool and Wolverine movie would be the type of Logan you are looking for. He’s been through so much, lost so many people, has been hurt so much and lives with such a deep guilt and self-hatred.

In the beginning he wouldn’t show it, especially if you were someone who knew him, or some variant of him, in the past. He has an image he needs to live up too, or at least that’s what Logan thinks.

To him, he doesn’t deserve anything nice or soft. He doesn’t deserve to be loved or cared for, which in the end just ends up being his Achilles heel. Logan has starved himself so much for any kind of affection or care, that when he starts loving somebody he becomes like a dog.

Not a happy wagging panting dog, no. more a starved, dirty, covered in cuts and sores, kind of dog, desperately pouncing on the tiniest sliver of food you throw his way.

In the beginning, Logan would try to deny these feelings completely. Again, he doesn’t think he deserves to even love somebody, especially not somebody as great as you. So, he tried to suppress it. but that only adds onto it. the stuff we try to suppress only comes back stronger; didn’t you know?

That’s why he tries so hard to stay cold, rude, mean, anything he can to chase you off. If you leave first, then it wont matter, right? But damnit, you stay. And you just seem to cling on tighter the more he struggles, like those dogs so used to fighting and snarling at everything for their own safety, finally being taken in by someone whose patient enough to love them, and wait for them to feel safe.

And when Logan finally starts to feel safe, letting down his walls little by little and oh so slowly reaching out. Then he becomes insatiable. In the beginning its small things like standing closer to you, his leg pressing against yours, him bringing you stuff that reminded him of you.

But soon he can’t help but be all over you, only when you’re alone though. You end up with 300+ lb. of hairy gruff Wolverine, glued to you like he needs to be close to you as much as he needs air to breathe.

This is also where you discover that he completely melts when you run your hand through his hair or beard, his eyes almost rolling back as he arches into your loving touch like a sunflower reaching for the sun.

This dynamic also follows into the bedroom. Here Logan starts out thinking he’s gonna be the one in charge and on top, as he’s always been in past relationships.

But when you show signs that you like to make the orders and tell him what to do, Logan is honestly relieved to let the ropes go, falling to his knees with a lump thump and crack, the floor splitting under his weight and desperation to just be good for you, to be loved.

You never thought you would see Logan of all people cry, but you quickly learn that praise is the way to get him there. You were terrified the first time he started silently crying as he rubbed his face back and forth on your knee, a minor tremble in his shoulders. But you learn it’s because he’s so overwhelmed by the fact that somebody actually still loves him.

Logan has spent all this time being in charge and being on edge, that he’s almost desperate and begging for you to take charge. Hed crawl down the street on a leash if that’s what you wanted, all that matters to him is your love, your praise and acknowledgment.

Of course you wouldn’t do that, and you worry a lot about his comfort and safety. It doesn’t take you long to realize that Logan will bend himself backwards to please you, even go further than he’s normally comfortable with.

This leads to you having to give him a scolding that has the mutant falling to his knees and clinging onto you, as if you were gonna leave him behind too. Communication has been and always will be hard for Logan, but over time you pick up his physical cues.

You still like to have him tell you in words what he wants though, just to be sure, but also for him to practice. Even when he’s near tears in pleasure you still want Logan to tell you what he wants, how, and where.

You two always end your times together with a long cuddle, the cuddling lasting longer than what you did before since Logan soaks up your love like a sponge that just never seems to end. You swear he purrs, even if Logan denies it vehemently.

[itneverendshere]

trying to behave, but i'm feelin' some type of way - r.c drabble.

request: rafe x bitchy!pogue reader pleaseeeee!!!! he just hates that he wants her soo fucking bad and she finds it hilarioussss warnings: it gets steamy but no smut!; slutshaming; mean!rafe.

you’re out of place here, which is exactly why you’re here, tannyhill.

fuck them. fuck him.

every high-strung kook princess with their perfectly manicured nails gives you a quick once-over, nostrils flaring when they catch the sight of your scuffed-up boots. not that you care. it’s not like you’re trying to impress anyone.

and why should you? you’re only here for the free booze, it’s not your fault this place is such a bore. always all pearls, pastels, and the scent of white wine and privilege. who the fuck drank white whine at a party? but the real reason you’re here, the whole damn reason, is staring straight at you from across the room.

rafe cameron. ugh and yum.

he’s leaning against the bar, muscles taut under that fitted navy polo like he was born to flex, with a scowl as always. it’s always that look—the one that’s aimed solely at you, every time he sees you. it’s practically a tradition by now. you show up somewhere, he glares.

there’s a tightness in his shoulders, something tells you he’s going to snap eventually, maybe it’s because you’ve been pushing buttons lately. maybe it’s because he’s got his daddy’s expectations hanging over his head like a guillotine.

or maybe it’s just because he wants you, and that little inconvenient truth pisses him off to no end.

you flash him a slow, lazy grin, shifting your hips as you grab a beer from the cooler. when you catch the way his eyes drag over you, lingering on your exposed skin, your stomach hums with satisfaction.

let him look. let him stew in it.

“country club,” you call sweetly, raising your bottle in a mock toast, the light catching on the condensation like it’s winking at him. “how’s it going?”

his jaw ticks, his lips pressing into a thin, flat line. “you shouldn’t be here.”

“and yet, here i am,” you sing-song back, taking a slow, pointed sip. you’re feeling reckless tonight. he’s dangerous, sure. but he’s also predictable. you know exactly how to make it worse.  “aww, what’s wrong?”

you know exactly this’ll go. he’ll insult you, you’ll insult him back, and then—

his eyes narrow dangerously, that vein in his temple ticking. “what the fuck are you wearing?”

you blink innocently, glancing down at yourself. “clothes, obviously. why? does it bother you?”

“yeah,” he snaps, eyes raking over you again, lingering on the swell of your chest, the sliver of skin peeking out above your waistband. “aren’t you tired of slutting yourself around?”

your lips curl into a smirk, the slow burn of satisfaction warming your chest. this is exactly what you were hoping for.

“slutting myself around?” you echo, voice teasing. “didn’t know you were keeping tabs.” you cock your head, letting your gaze linger on his flushed cheeks, the way his nostrils flare, and that slight clench of his fists by his side.

he’s seething—looks ready to burst into flames right here in front of the bar. good.

he’s always been like this with you. short fuse, especially when it comes to what you’re wearing, how you look, where you go. but you’re onto him. you know what it’s really about.

“you must really be obsessed with me,” you continue, “it’s kinda weird, don’t you think?” you take another sip, slow and deliberate, licking your lips as you meet his glare. he steps closer, crowding into your space, his chest brushing against your shoulder. you should back up, or at least pretend to care, but you just tilt your head, looking up at him with a smug little grin. “what’s wrong?” you murmur, “feeling a little tense?

“fuck off,” he grits out, stepping back like he’s burned. but it’s too late. you’ve got him now.

you cock your head, giving him a slow, taunting smile. “why? afraid you’ll get hard in front of your little friends?”

his eyes darken, jaw clenched so hard you wonder if it hurts. “i swear to god—”

“what?” you interrupt, teeth flashing. “you gonna hit me? break another one of your daddy’s toys?” you wave your hand around the pristine room, the glittering chandelier, the polished bar. “go on, then. show everyone what a psycho you are.”

“you think i won’t?” 

“yeah, i think you won’t,” you say softly, staring right into those burning blue eyes of his. “because you’re all bark and no bite.”

“you wanna see bite?” he murmurs, voice dripping venom. “i’ll show you fucking bite.”

then his hand snaps out, wrapping around your upper arm, and before you can react, he’s yanking you out of the room, down a hallway that’s all shadowed corners. you stumble, cursing under your breath, but he doesn’t stop until you’re both crashing through a side door into some empty back corridor.

“jesus, cameron, take a fucking xanax—” you start, wrenching your arm free.

for a second, you think you’ve gone too far. his whole body goes still, and something flares in his gaze—something unhinged and a little bit terrifying. but instead of snapping, instead of throwing a punch, he leans in, so close you can feel the heat of him against your skin.

you’re shoved against the wall, hard, his body caging yours in, his hands braced on either side of your head. you freeze, breath hitching. he’s close—too close—and it’s too hot and too much and—

“shut up,” he growls.

you should tell him to fuck off. you should knee him in the balls. you should do anything but feel the way you do right now—flushed, breathless, and…too horny for your own good. 

“do you always have to be so fucking dramatic?” you huff, placing your hand in chest in a futile attempt to push him away. you know he can break you in half if he wants to. 

he doesn’t move of course, just stares at you, chest heaving like he’s just run a marathon. he’s got that crazed look in his eyes that should make you run for the hills, and yet you stay put.

and then, suddenly, his mouth is on yours, demanding and angry.

it’s not a kiss—it’s a punishment. his teeth nip at your bottom lip, his tongue sliding against yours with a harshness that steals your breath. you gasp, your hands coming up to shove him away again, but somehow they get tangled in his hair instead, gripping the soft strands as he presses closer, closer— it’s a disaster. you’re a disaster. because you don’t pull away. 

you kiss him back like an idiot, just as desperate, your nails digging into his scalp as you pour all your frustration into the kiss. why does he have to be this hot? in your books, kooks aren't allowed to be hotter than a 5. unfortunately, rafe is a solid eleven.

he tastes like mint and rage, and it shouldn’t feel this good, but it does. god, it does. he breaks away, panting, glaring down at you like you’re dirt under his shoes. “you drive me fucking insane, y’ know that?”

“good,” you gasp, licking your lips. “you deserve it.”

he laughs, a low, harsh sound. “you’re such a fucking bitch.”

“and you’re a spoiled, narcissistic asshole,” you snap back, shoving at his chest. he doesn’t even flinch, just glares harder, and it sends a thrill through your entire body. you’d never seen him like this, so unguarded and it was weirdly intoxicating. 

“i should ruin you,” he murmurs, almost like he’s talking to himself. his hand comes up, fingers brushing your jaw, trailing down your throat. “make you beg.”

you keep your expression defiant. “you think you can?”

rafe smirks, slow and dangerous, and it makes something burst in your belly. “i know i can.”

his hand slides lower, fingertips brushing the hem of your top, and your breath catches. you should stop this again. you should slap him, kick him, do anything but let him keep touching you like that, but you don’t. you just stare up at him, heart racing.

“show me then.”

and then his hands are on you, yanking you forward, spinning you around. you gasp, palms slapping against the wall as he presses up behind you, his body solid against yours.

“you’re a fucking brat,” he growls, his mouth right against your ear. one of his hands comes up, fingers tangling in your hair, pulling just enough to make your back arch.

“and you’re obsessed with me,” you shoot back breathlessly, tilting your head to meet his gaze over your shoulder.

rafe’s grip tightens in your hair, hard enough to sting, and his lips brush your earlobe, “obsessed?” he repeats, like he can’t believe you had the fucking audacity to say it. “don’t flatter yourself, baby.”

but you feel the way his body presses against yours. your panties might be drenched but this man is just as hard. he’s close to you—so fucking close—you feel every ridge of him, and despite every insult he’s ever thrown your way, despite how much he claims to hate you, he’s here. the way he’s breathing tells you exactly what you need to know. 

you twist against him, pushing back just enough to test his restraint. “then why are you so worked up, huh?”

“i think you’re confusing us.”

“sure,” you laugh, even as his hands move down your sides, his fingernails digging into your hips. “that’s why you dragged me out here, right? because you’re just so indifferent?”

his chest brushes against your back with every ragged breath. he’s losing it. you’re making him lose it. and fuck, that feels good.

“i could ruin you,” he whispers again, like he’s trying to convince himself. his hand skim up your ribs, thumb grazing the underside of your tit, and your senses kicks into overdrive. “one word from me, and you’re done.”

“you’re all talk cameron,” you challenge, arching your back slightly, giving him more room to touch you.

you shouldn’t want this—you shouldn’t need this—but you can’t stop. 

his mouth is on your neck, hot and open, teeth scraping against your skin in a way that sends a shudder from your head to your toes.

“fuck you,” he growls against your throat, the words almost lost in the heat of his mouth. “i’m not playin’ your games.”

you bite back a moan, fingers curling against the cold wall. “you’re already playing.”

“you’re so fucking—” he cuts himself off, breathing harshly through his nose. “fuck, i hate you.”

“no, you don’t,” you turn your head just enough to catch his eye. his gaze is wild, and you smirk, taunting him with your lips just inches from his. “you wish you did.”

you know you’re pushing your luck, but then again, when haven’t you?

“you have no fucking clue what i wish,” he growls, each word dripping with so much frustration it makes you laugh.

it comes out like a soft, mocking sound. “ooh, i think i do. you wish i’d shut up. wish i’d disappear. but you really wish you didn’t get hard every time ’m around.”

his jaw ticks, that telltale sign that you’re getting to him. god, he hates you. you can see it in his clenched teeth, his furrowed brows. he hates that he wants a pogue and you find it hilarious.

“don’t flatter yourself pogue,” he snaps, but his voice is strained. his hands tighten on your hips, fingers biting into your skin just shy of painful.

you push back against him just a little harder again, feeling the rigid line of his cock pressed against your ass.

“yeah?” your voice turns breathy. “then why do i feel that?” you grind your hips subtly, just to punctuate the point, and the low sound that rumbles out of him is almost worth the risk of provoking him further.

“because you’re a fucking tease,” he mutters, voice harsh and low in your ear. “you show up, looking like you want it—”

“and so what if i do?”

it’s a dare. he’s holding you, like he can’t decide if he wants to strangle you or fuck you senseless, perhaps both. you know you’ve crossed some invisible line.

“you’re gonna regret this,” he murmurs.

“maybe,” you shoot back, unflinching. “but that’s the thing, rafe.” you twist, just enough to look at him over your shoulder, “i think you’re more scared of what you might regret.”

instead of shoving you away, instead of storming off, he does the one thing you didn’t expect. he laughs.

it’s that crazy sound he makes before he does something reckless every time, the kind that makes people run away. it’s such a humorless sound, it should scare the living shit out of you as he leans in, lips brushing against your neck. “don’t say i didn’t warn you.”

before you can answer, one hand slides up to cup your jaw, tilting your head back so you’re forced to meet his eyes. they’re wild, almost feral, just like you expected.

“tell me to stop,” he whispers, his thumb brushing your lower lip, the touch so gentle it’s almost jarring. “go on, say it.”

you swallow hard, pulse hammering in your throat. you should say it. but you don’t want to.

“make me.” you know he hears you—feels you—because the corner of his mouth lifts in a slow, taunting smirk.

“yeah?” he drawls, thumb slipping from your lip to trace along your jawline, his touch featherlight and maddening. “you sure?”

“prove me wrong. or are you scared?”

“you think ’m fucking scared of you? think i can’t handle a little mouthy brat like you?”

he’s goading you, pushing you like he always does, and every word you had prepared dies on your lips 

“i’d loooove to see you try.”

“oh, you will.”

[moonstruckme]

hi i lovelovelove your fics and i’m wondering if you are taking requests… if you could write a fic with steve and shy!reader who calls him a pet name or nickname for the first time ❤️

Thank you for requesting <3

Steve Harrington x shy!reader ♡ 710 words

Dew drops collect on your skin as you walk to Steve’s house. It’s a quiet morning, fog hanging in heavy clumps as birds call to each other through the haze. You hope Steve has coffee. 

You knock quietly. His footsteps banging down the stairs answer far louder. 

The door swings open to reveal your boyfriend with his toothbrush in his mouth, his hair all in disarray, and his clothes clearly only just thrown on. 

“Sorry,” he says in greeting, words garbled through a foam of toothpaste. “I thou I cou get ready in five min-us, bu—” Steve spits in the kitchen sink “—I couldn’t.” He gives you a sheepish smile. “You look really pretty.” 

Warmth kisses your cheeks. “Thanks, so do you,” you say earnestly. “I mean, you look nice. Your shirt’s on backwards, though.” 

Steve looks down at the tag poking up near his throat. “Oh, shit.” 

He rinses his mouth out with water from the tap, spitting again in the sink before setting his toothbrush down on the edge. When he pulls his arms inside to turn his shirt around, the process shows a sliver of abdomen that your eyes catch on before you drop them to the floor, flushing for real now. Steve combs his hair back with his fingers, walking around the counter to you.

“Hi,” he says, hand cupping the side of your neck as he gives you a spearmint-flavored kiss. “Coffee’s in the pot. Sorry I’m holding us up, I hope we don’t miss the sunrise because of me.” 

“That’s okay,” you say, though you hope you can still catch it. It’s all really just an excuse to spend time with Steve anyway. You move past him to the fridge, getting out the cream while he pours coffee into two thermoses to take with you. 

A piece of hair falls into his face as he looks down, and he swipes it back impatiently. It’s still pretty unruly from sleep; he clearly hasn’t had time this morning to give it the attention he likes to, and it warms your heart to think that he’d put that aside so you could get to go see the sunrise. It also makes you want to say to hell with the sunrise and comb your fingers through his hair until he’s happy with it. 

“I’m almost ready to go,” he swears. “I just had the worst sleep last night.” 

“Oh, really?” The areas under his eyes do look a little shadowy. The thought hooks your eyebrows upward. “I’m sorry, baby.” 

The word slips out of you so naturally, your voice bent and softened by sympathy, that for a moment you hope that Steve won’t notice. And for a moment, it seems like maybe he doesn’t. But then he sets the thermos down, dark brows twitching towards each other. He tilts his head to look at you. 

“Baby?” he asks, bordering on incredulous.

“Sorry,” you say automatically. You think your palms are sweating. 

“No, don’t be sorry.” Steve’s smile blooms slowly, better than any sunrise, and you can’t tell if he’s about to make fun of you. You think if he does you might have to cancel this whole thing. “It just surprised me. S’that something you wanna call me?” 

“I don’t know.” You can’t look at him. You use the coffee as an excuse, pulling your thermos toward you to start stirring in cream. When you’re done, you pass it over to Steve without glancing up. 

But he’s not having it. He sets the cream aside, slotting his fingers behind your ear with your cheek in the basin of his palm and tilting you towards him. He looks like he’s making fun of you, definitely.

Your heart hiccups.

“It just slipped out,” you confess. 

“Okay,” Steve laughs. “That’s okay, I liked it. Feel free to let it slip as many times as you want.” He slides his thumb along your skin, no doubt feeling its heat. His voice is sweet when he asks, “You about ready to go, baby?” 

You feel your forehead pinch painfully. “Don’t,” you plead. 

“I don’t know,” Steve says, though he lets you go to tend to his coffee, a small mercy. “I think you’ve really started something here. I could get used to this.”

[eggonthemoon]

Alien Stage Round 6 Character Analysis and Lyrics Breakdown

Okay so obviously spoilers, don't click Keep Reading if you haven't watched Round 6.

God fuck it's so fucking beautiful, where do I start?

I don't even know what is going on with those rapid shots of what I assume is some form of experiment that Till was involved in. I have no clue what the goal was or if it succeeded but somehow (for no real reason other than that one image of Luka standing behind Till ominously) I feel that Luka is involved with it.

Was this an attempt by Heperu's (Luka's guardian) rival to make a human capable of going up against Luka? Till being the youngest and Luka being the oldest also means that Till's guardian could have caught on to what Heperu was planning to do with Luka and then start experimenting on humans shortly after and it would still somewhat line up with the timeline.

But I'm getting into conspiracy territory, back to suffering!!

Allow me, to the tips of your fingers

Allow me, to the ends of your feet

Dissolve me in your gaze

I don't want to let you go

Oh this hurts. Seeing him look so defeated and exhausted, you can tell that even though to the public it's not certain whether Mizi died or not it doesn't matter to him. Because she's still gone away from his world, where he is unable to reach her. He wants to dissolve and die but he also doesn't want to let her go if there is even a sliver of hope that she lives.

Please, leave me scars

Please, hurt me so that

Not a single drop of me remains

Let me drown in you

The footage that plays to these lyrics really show how defeated he is. He refuses to sing, his passion for the art completely dead and buried. And (his guardian I assume) when someone shoves the fact that Mizi is gone in his face he lashes out and punches one of the aliens near him.

Until these falling stars

Are buried in the blur of time

However his heart isn't entirely in it and is quickly apprehended.

He is beyond exhausted and doesn't even protest or put up a fight while (the same alien he punched btw) another alien runs their fingers through his hair.

On your icy lips

Read my soul

Yes, my soul

He hopes that even if Mizi is dead that her spirit watches over him, seeing his soul and by extension, Him, for all that he is. Every thought and breath until he falls asleep is for Mizi.

But didn't we already know this is how he'd be like? Time for something juicier~

Even if your cold words

Carve scars beneath my eyes

May they linger on your tongue

You can break me apart

God this is heart shattering. Even if Till doesn't care for him, even if Till throws hurtful words his way, Ivan will still lie awake at night, cherishing what sliver of attention he is given. It doesn't matter if Till hates him, because as long as he is on Till's mind Ivan is happy. He is entirely in Till's hands, capable of being build up or torn down depending on how much (or how little) he is perceived by him.

Notice my pain

And mend me right now

To quiet my fears

I'll drown in you

He wants so deeply to be seen by Till, noticed. Till who doesn't let anything hold him down and always picks himself back up became a pillar of hope and strength to Ivan. It didn't matter how or in what context he gets to be seen, so he went out of his way to provoke him just to get Till to look at him even for a moment.

This was mentioned a while back on VIVINOS Patreon but the entire incident where Mizi and Till got attacked by that hound monster was orchestrated by him. I feel like there is two possible reasons for this depending on when in the timeline this takes place.

Either he wanted to test Till's resolve in hopes of being proven wrong about his courage (after all your hopes can't be dashed on the rocks, if you never had hopes to begin with) only for his obsession to end up growing even stronger than before.

Or he tried to let Till get roughed up enough that he'd be transferred (solitary confinement? emergency room?) somewhere else away from the others at Anakt, so they could escape together.

But we all know how that turned out.

Either way what Ivan wants isn't freedom, he's long since given up on that. There's no point in his freedom if the person that inspired him to yearn for it isn't by his side. He needs Till there, his very presence to reassure him that no matter what Till won't falter. But he failed to take account of the one thing that weakens Till's resolve.

Mizi.

Mizi is to Till what Till is to Ivan. And so without Mizi in his world Till crumbles. Since Till will only go where Mizi is and Mizi already gave away her heart to someone else, it's impossible for Ivan to be free while keeping Till in his world.

And so he follows him, resigning himself to a life without freedom.

Sick of these nights to come

To be engulfed in silence

But the distance between them is killing him, and each and every day they come closer to their inevitable doom.

It doesn't matter if they believe the lie the aliens told them, that if they die singing they will be blessed. Because what is the point in that? How can going somewhere far away from the people they love be a blessing?

In your gaze where I am seen

Consume me

Yes, me

His desires mirror Till's. He wants his soul to be seen by him, recognized for his undying love for him. He wants Till to see that he can give him all that Till yearns for in Mizi and more.

To this everlasting melody

Face to face we dance

And yet Till still refuses to look Ivan in the eyes.

Things get a little unclear but since they aren't shown singing here and there's no flashback to accompany the lyrics, we can assume that at this moment Till most likely gave up on singing.

With our story

Lost in forever's embrace

I'm not sure if Ivan intended this from the start or if it's a decision he made then and there but one thing is certain. If Till stops singing then that would mean he forfeits, he'll lose. Till has never once given up. Even when he went back for Mizi that night, he never intended to leave her in the first place. But now without her he crumbles.

And Ivan can't let that happen, not like this.

Moral grey area aside, this scene is so deeply moving to me

And I don't say that in a romantic context, absolutely not. This is something much deeper than just love. This is the culmination of everything they've been through, all those moments lead up to this.

Because this isn't a kiss.

This is Ivan throwing his life away for Till.

Till was going to loose, the only thing that could overturn that is if his opponent attacks him. The kiss was to distract Till and keep him from catching up to what Ivan was planning.

Just look at the contrast between their first and second kiss. As soon as the score board shows Till is in the lead, he gives him a gentle peck on the lips. The contrast is stark and full of meaning. This was the genuine kiss, hidden behind a smokescreen of aggressive bravado created from the previous one.

And it worked. Till was completely convinced that Ivan's intentions was to kill him, and he was fully intent on letting him.

I know a lot of people doubted his intentions. Because he didn't let go of Till's neck the minute he saw their scores, a lot of people assume that this was Ivan trying to drag Till down with him.

But the minute he coughed up blood what does he do?

He smiles.

and let's Till go.

He's only human. He might know logically that Till has won the match. But emotionally he refuses to let go until he is certain.

Until he knows for a fact that he is the one bleeding and dying he'll keep up his charade.

And then.

And only then.

Till truly sees Ivan.

As he dissolves in his gaze.

[littlexdeaths]

someone’s a little jealous…

older brother’s best friend eddie x fem reader

warnings: smut +18 only, jealous!eddie, possessive!eddie, thigh riding, praise kink, semi-public sex, also a lil sprinkle of mean!eddie bc i love him.

it’s a recipe for disaster masterlist.

“eddie, hold on—” you mewl, unintentionally grinding yourself harder onto his thigh.

eddie has you pinned between the side of your garage and his chest, purposefully out of view from the prying eyes of your brother. his lips are everywhere, pressing heavy kisses wherever he could reach.

no sliver of skin was left untouched, whether that was from his wandering hands or his lips. he wanted you to feel him all over, to imprint his touch onto your skin forever.

as if to remind you just who you really belonged to, not that you could ever forget.

once you’d said your goodbyes to steve after an incredibly unpleasant dinner, you’d planted a chaste kiss on his cheek (it’s all for the bit, right?) but eddie was beyond fuming.

he’d convinced your brother he had forgotten something back at his trailer, so he’d be gone for at least another twenty minutes. giving him plenty of time to pull you aside and have his way with you.

“what? you want your other boyfriend to come take care of you? is that it?” he grunts, pressing his denim-clad thigh harder against your cunt.

your eyes nearly roll into the back of your head, fingernails digging harder into the meat of his shoulders.

“no, i want you, ed.” you whine, feeling the way his lips turn up in a smirk against your jaw.

“is that so?” he hums, nipping at your throat. “didn’t look that way at dinner, baby. looked to me like you really wanted, stevie.”

he all but sneers the other male’s name, the possessive edge to his voice has you practically trembling in his embrace. you’d seen eddie jealous before, but this was on a whole other level.

and you can’t deny the way your cunt practically throbs in response to it.

but when you frantically shake your head and look up at him with those doe eyes, his resolve starts to slip. “it’s only you, eddie. i only want you.”

he makes a deep humming sound in the back of his throat, pressing more heated kisses along your jaw.

“think you’re gonna need to prove it to me, sweetness. prove to me that you’re my good girl.”

he leans one hand on the wall beside your head, and the other he uses to help continually guide your hips along his thigh. your body is buzzing, practically alight under his ministrations— but as good as this felt, you needed more.

“need you to fuck me,” you whimper, burying your face in the sweaty skin of his neck to press some open-mouthed kisses there.

you can feel the chuckle that vibrates against your lips, the sound further dampening your panties.

“you gotta earn that, sweetheart. show me you can come like this and then i’ll think about it.”

he can tell you’re pouting without actually seeing you, earning you another deep chuckle. but you know that’s not going to get you what you want. so when you grip onto his battle vest for leverage and use it to further dampen his jeans, he has to hold back a moan.

“that’s it baby, see you can listen, huh?” the condescension in his tone is thick, “just gotta give you proper incentive, that it?”

you can only manage a whine in response, your own thighs starting to tighten around his own once you find just the right spot. and you’re downright frantic then, hips stuttering as you chase that high. your boyfriend only encourages you, gently coaxing your face from his neck.

his eyes are dark, hungry as he greedily takes in your expressions. the way you tuck your lip between your teeth, a habit you’d formed to keep yourself quiet. and the way your lashes are fluttering, eyes threatening to close with each glide of your clit against the denim beneath your hips.

you’re utterly wrecked, and it’s all because of him.

“cum for me baby, you can do it.” he coos, leaning down to press your lips together.

that’s all it takes for you to fall apart, your body trembling in his strong embrace. he swallows your cries as he kisses you deeper, cradling your body against his own. but you barely have time to relish in the feeling as you hear the back door slam open.

you both freeze as the distinct sound of your brother’s whistling fills the evening air. eddie carefully slides his thigh out from between your own, and you allow your body to rest fully against the garage. neither of you make another move as the lid of the garbage can is flung open, barely five feet around the corner from where you both are standing.

sid makes a noise of disgust as he tosses the bag of trash into the can, and you have to cover your mouth to stifle a giggle. eddie just gives you a pointed look, as if to say, really? right now?

unbeknownst to you, your brother has guns n’roses blasting through the headset of his walkman— so there’s no way he would’ve heard you anyhow.

but your body sags in relief when you hear the back door close again, and eddie blows out the breath he’d been holding.

“jesus christ, that was way too close,” he groans.

you can’t help but giggle when you tug him back into you, nudging your nose with his as you kiss him deeply. eddie rests his hands on your hips, groaning into your mouth when your knee brushes against the bulge in his jeans.

“wait, wait, wait, sweetheart.” he almost whines, causing you to giggle again.

“you promised me, munson.”

he curses again, pulling away from you to run a hand through his tousled hair.

“trust me, i’ll make good on that promise, baby…. but later, okay?”

he gives you a look as you jut out your lower lip in a pout, to which he responds by taking it inbetween his teeth with a grunt.

“god, you’ll be the death of me. you know that?”

series taglist: @nailbatanddungeon @angel-eyes-and-devil-hearts @mugloversonly @eddiemunsonfuxks

dm me if you want to join the taglist!

[nicksbestie]

Next Level - M. Sturniolo

Summary : the one where you just want your boyfriend to get off of his game, and he makes you a deal.

Warnings : 16+ content. i am not responsible for the media you choose to consume online. oral (fem receiving), fingering, praise kink, multiple orgasms/overstimulation, pet names (baby)

Word Count : 3017

Pairing : Matt Sturniolo/Reader (romantic)

A/N : idfk blame someone else for this

You were potentially the most bored that you had ever been in your entire life.

Yes, you were being incredibly dramatic, but your boyfriend had ceased giving you attention and hanging out with you in favor of playing round after round on whatever video game of the day was pulled up on his monitor. It was so frustrating, and you were a clingy person, so that just made it worse. You had come over to spend time with your boyfriend, not to just watch him focus on something else. You had tried playing with him, losing multiple games, winning a couple, before you had gotten bored and moved to relax on his bed. You’d been quiet and patient up until about now, because you didn’t want to bother him, and you did love seeing him do things that he enjoyed, but you were starting to get annoyed. 

You abandoned his room in favor of going down to the kitchen to get something to drink, finding Chris and Nick sitting on the couch, some show playing in the background, and Nick was swiping through Snapchat stories on his phone. They already knew you were there, having spent time with both of them when you had arrived a few hours prior to now. You sat down with them both, opening the lemonade you had stolen from their fridge. You didn’t speak, also on your phone for a couple of minutes before Chris looked up, nudging Nick to get his attention.

“Do you think Matt will drive us somewhere? I want to go get a slurpee.” 

You laughed, responding before Nick could.

“He’s fixated on his stupid video game, I doubt he’ll want to go anywhere.”

“Is that why you’re down here and not up there with him?” 

You nodded, continuing to scroll through social media while the two brothers decided if they wanted to ask Matt or not. Finally, Nick turned to you.

“Can you go ask? He’s more likely to say yes to you than to us, and now that Chris has mentioned it, I want to get one too.” 

You playfully rolled your eyes, but got up to go upstairs to ask him anyways, knowing more than likely your boyfriend would say no. Walking back into his room, Matt glanced up at you, looking back to his screen after acknowledging who had come into the room.

“Nick and Chris want to go get slurpees, they wanted to know if you would drive them.”

Matt shook his head, eyes never leaving the monitor, fingers never pausing their movements on his controller.

“Nah, I don’t want to go. Tell them to order an Uber or something.”

You sighed, sitting back down on Matt’s bed to text those words to Chris and Nick, not feeling like walking up and down the steps again for such a short message. After reading Nick’s response of a rolling eyes emoji, you threw your body back and laid down, exhaling deeply, waiting on Matt to pay you even a sliver of attention. You were tempted to leave, go get slurpees with the two other brothers, but at the same time, you really did love and miss your boyfriend. About fifteen minutes went by, and Chris texted you to let you know that they were leaving, asking if you were both sure that you didn’t want to come, and you replied saying that no, you two would stay here.

You only let about another five minutes go by before you waved a hand in front of Matt’s face, refusing to let him ignore you any longer. He pulled his headset halfway off, to where one ear was exposed, so that he could hear you.

“What’s up, baby?” 

You sighed, slightly pouting.

“You’ve been on that game forever, and you’ve been ignoring me.” 

Matt gave you a soft smile, standing up to kiss you before sitting back down. 

“Just let me get through one more level, and I’ll turn it off for the day.” 

You rolled your eyes, turning around to go sit back down.

“Sure you will.” 

He caught your wrist as you tried to move away from his desk, turning you back towards him.

“Hey, watch the attitude.”

He kissed the back of your hand, smiling at you.

“You’ve been waiting a while, I know. Nick and Chris have already left, right?” 

You nodded, confused at what his brother’s presence, or lack thereof, had to do with your current situation.

“Okay. So let me get through this next level, and I’ll go down on you until you cry. Deal?”

You couldn’t say that the suggestion that came out of Matt’s mouth didn’t affect you. It had been a little while since you and him had done anything, conflicts with filming and work, traveling, and when you were free, people were home. So sure, maybe part of your boredom and attitude was due to pent up desire, but who could blame you? There was only so much relief you could get on your own, and nothing compared to Matt’s skills. Matt noticed how your eyes widened slightly and your cheeks flushed, and an arrogant smirk crossed his lips. One of his favorite things was to go down on you, and you couldn’t deny the fact that you felt the same about it. 

“I figured you would like that offer. Just this last level, okay?” 

You swallowed, nodding, pulling your arm from his grip and going back to laying on his bed. You picked up your phone, trying to appear unaffected, but Matt knew you better than that. He could see you in the reflection of the dark screen on the second monitor, and he could see you shifting how your legs were laying every so often, trying to ignore how the thoughts he had planted in your head were affecting you. He loved how easily he could work you up, something he had often taken advantage of, and he smiled to himself at how suddenly you had developed so much patience. 

Matt intentionally lost the level multiple times in a row, wanting to see just how far he could push your patience. He knew that you wouldn’t push him back, so he wanted to see just how needy he could get you to be. So he continued to lose, to set himself back, to find any way to make his promise take longer. He was enjoying watching you grow desperate way more than he should have, noticing you look up at him and his screen pretty much every thirty seconds to see if he had completed the level yet. The thought of what he was going to do to you was making him struggle to focus on the game, so he decided to stop intentionally losing and not make you wait for him any longer. This level wasn���t difficult, and it wasn’t long before he completed it, turning off his screens and removing the headset in favor of setting it on the desk. 

Turning around and getting out of the chair, Matt abandoned his desk, laying down with you and taking your phone out of your hand. You let him, both of you knowing that you hadn’t really been paying attention to it anyways. Excited to finally have your boyfriend’s full attention, you pulled him in for a kiss, it starting off gentle and sweet. He broke the kiss after a couple of seconds, smiling at you and used his hand on the side of your cheek and jaw to guide you into another one. There wasn’t any effort on your side to gain dominance of the kiss, Matt easily controlled it, deepening it and swallowing any sounds that left your lips, smiling against your mouth when you both paused to breathe. 

“I think I have a promise to make good on, don’t I?” 

You nodded, gasping quietly when Matt moved his kisses down to directly under your jawline, teeth gently tugging on the skin, enough to leave marks on you, but not enough for those marks to last longer than a day. The hand that had previously been on the side of your face was tangled in the back of your hair, gently pulling on it, moving your head to give him more access. It wasn’t long before he was hovering over you and had left a trail of blooming marks under your jaw and on your neck. Small whimpers were leaving your lips, and he kissed you, full of passion, enjoying the way you reacted to his movements. One of his hands gently caressed your side, fingers toying with the hem of your shirt.

“Can I take this off?” 

You didn’t respond verbally, simply removing your hands from his hair and face to tug your shirt off, allowing him to help you. Matt’s hands immediately moved up to unclasp your bra, getting it off as quickly as possible, before moving to lay kisses down your torso. It seemed like he was somehow touching you everywhere at once, which you logically knew wasn’t true because he only had two hands, but you swore you could feel him on all parts of your skin. He moved a hand up to roll your nipple between two of his fingers, smirking at the loud whimper you let out, before moving his other hand down to the band of your sweatpants, silently asking for your permission for him to take them off. You lifted your hips, whispering your consent, sounds still leaving your lips because he hadn’t paused his ministrations, his mouth attaching to your other nipple, the attention on them both causing you to whine. 

He only stopped the movements of his hands to remove your sweatpants from your legs, but he didn’t move downwards. He moved back up to kiss you again, both of his hands holding the sides of your face. Using his leg to spread yours, he swallowed the loud moan that left your lips, as the shifting of his body had caused his knee to press directly against where you needed him most. He smiled against your lips, loving how vocal you were, increasing the pressure slowly until he felt you shift your hips downward to meet his leg. He removed his knee, hearing your whine of disappointment, moving his body down between your legs, using his hands to spread them this time, from where you had clenched your thighs around his knee. 

“Patience, baby, I’ll give you what you want.”

He left kisses and hickeys on your inner thighs, so close that you could feel his breath over your panties. When he was satisfied with the marks that he had left on your legs, he gently pulled them off of your legs, kissing even closer, smiling at the way that you pushed your hips closer to him. He took one arm and laid it over top of your hips, holding you down.

“Matt, stop fucking teasing.” 

He shook his head at the attitude in your voice, but he knew you wouldn’t be giving it to him for long. He kissed right above your clit before giving in, his tongue beginning to form small circles on it, and he could have cum on the spot when he heard the shaky breath that left you at the feeling of relief after having to wait so long. He alternated the amount of pressure he was using, before pulling off completely and moving to lick a stripe from your entrance back up to your clit, loving the way that your thighs clenched around his head. He pushed them back open before attaching his lips to your clit, gently sucking, causing your hands to tug harshly on his hair as you let out moans and whimpers. He tried to remove his face from between your legs, but you pushed him impossibly closer, and instead of fighting you, he simply formed tight figure eight motions with his tongue on your clit.

By this point you were so wet, and Matt’s mouth and chin were covered in the evidence of your arousal. He always ate you out like he was starving, and it was always messy, but you never complained. How could you, when it gave you some of the best orgasms you’d ever have? You could feel it starting to build in the pit of your stomach, and it only became more intense when Matt ran two fingers through the wetness between your legs before easily pushing them into you, expertly curling them. He knew your body like the back of his own hand, so not only did he know that you could take two at once, he knew exactly where to move and where to press to have you squirming. 

His ministrations were confident, and you were predictable, your head immediately going back the second that his fingers curled perfectly, him only being able to see the white of your eyes while his tongue and fingers caused your thighs to shake around his head, your climax building quickly, and Matt could tell, just from the noises you were making and the way you were clenching around his fingers. He pulled his mouth off, increasing the speed of his fingers, kissing you roughly before speaking.

“Doing so good for me, baby.” 

“Matt, fuck, please-” 

He placed his thumb on your clit, rubbing tight circles with a firm amount of pressure, adoring the way that your back arched now that you were no longer being held down.

“I know, baby, I know.”

He replaced his thumb with his mouth, the suction sending you off into space. He could hear your moans getting higher in pitch, and your thighs were clamping around his head. Your hips were bucking against his face, your eyes screwed shut as his free hand reached up and applied pressure to your lower stomach, and that was it. Your orgasm hit you like a truck, jaw hanging open in a loud whine, Matt not stopping any of his movements as he pleasured you through your high. He stopped when your breathing began to stagger roughly, kissing you sweetly as you panted against his lips. He kissed you until you calmed down, until your chest stopped heaving, and then he ran his hand back down and gently drew slow circles on your clit, kissing your forehead as you whined and tried to bat his hand away. 

“I can’t, too much.” 

He just gave you a pitying smile, not moving his hand. If anything, he picked up his pace, listening to you whimper against his neck.

“Oh, but I promised you’d be crying, baby. I have to make good on that, don’t I?” 

You couldn’t formulate a response, just a low whine leaving you as he added more pressure. 

“You can give me one more.” 

And with those words, he went back to having his head between your thighs, his fingers on his free hand gently tracing patterns on the inside of your thighs. You were so sensitive, not ever having been one for overstimulation, but the incredible pleasure that rolled through your body overwhelmed every small spark of pain, causing you to not want Matt to stop after all. Being so sensitive, you were so much more reactive, and when Matt pulled the same move of curling his fingers right into your sweet spot, you let out a loud sob, and you could feel another orgasm beginning to build. It was much quicker than the last one, but with Matt absolutely assaulting your clit, and his fingers roughly massaging that perfect spot inside of you, you knew you would never be able to hold it off. 

The oversensitivity caused tears to build in your eyes, and you got to the point of desperation that you were attempting to ride Matt’s face, hands tightened in his hair again, keeping him pushed up against you, chanting his name like a prayer as you tipped over the edge for a second time that night. Matt did the same thing that he did the first time, working you through your orgasm, and it was the added stimulation paired with the unbelievable high you were already on that caused tears to stream down your face, eventually pushing Matt away from you when it got to the point that you couldn’t handle it anymore. He knew when it was too much for you, and he pulled off, the fingers that had just brought you to your finish now in his own mouth, and if you could go again, you would have at just the sight. 

It didn’t take Matt long to pull you into his arms, wiping the remnants of tears off of your face. He didn’t move you too much, but he helped you drink out of the bottle of water that had been on his nightstand. You laid there, still slightly out of breath, enjoying the close company of your boyfriend and the gentle kisses he was pressing on the top of your head. It wasn’t until Matt adjusted his body slightly against you that you realized he was still hard.

“You didn’t-.”

He didn’t even humor the statement, cutting you off by just shaking his head and holding you against his chest.

“Don’t worry about it. You’ve got my full attention, baby. I’m fine.” 

The soft aftercare that Matt always gave you was top tier, complete with food, a warm bath, and endless cuddles. He always spent a lot of time making sure that you were completely taken care of and felt okay before he even thought about himself. Checking Matt’s phone, you noticed a text from Chris that had come in thirty minutes ago, letting you know that they had decided to stop at another store before coming home. Neither of you replied, but you both assumed that meant you didn’t have much more alone time left. So Matt helped you back into clothes, knowing that you were tired, and you ended up dressed in an entire outfit of his.  The two of you weren’t even awake when they got back, falling asleep wrapped up in each other’s presence.

taglist : @blahbel668 @mattsgirlfrieeend @69isabella69 @mayhem-72 @iculdstealurgf @iluvm4ttsturni0l0

@sturnioloslife @heartsforkarina @nervousrebelglitter @sturniclo @elliegrace-7 @mattsturnioloisbae @strnilo

@dazsha19 @patscorner @hailee22sstuff @tworosesblackthorn @h3arts4harry @getosuckers @knhxa @scoobydoosnack

@tapesmatts @st7rnioioss @st7rnioiossblog @jamiesturniolo @sofie-1 @muwapsturniolo @graysturns @certifiednatelover

@bitchydragonparadise @haunted-headset-alt @skyslondon @matthewsturniolosgirlfriend101 @alivzstuff

~ if you'd like to be added to my taglist, click here!

~ my inbox is open, come chat!!

[grapejollyrancher]

Noise Complaints (Pt. 1 (?))

Logan Howlett x Reader

Pairing: Logan Howlett x Fem! AFAB! Reader

Warnings: smut, MINORS DNI, dry humping, slight dacryphilia (only if you squint), desperate!logan, pet names, no use of y/n, knife use (not sexual, not knifeplay)

a/n: yall pls go easy on me this is my first time ever publishing a fanfic :O. if there are any errors or if i forgot to mention any warnings or triggers please LMK! constructive criticism is heavily encouraged as i mentioned this is my first fic. ALSO so sorry i am legit incapable of writing sexual tension/ buildup forgive me! Hope you guys enjoy! let me know what you think :) (p.s. i have a part two drafted if anyone is interested i can edit it and post soon!)

It was a boring day at the X-Mansion…

You pass through the living room on the way to the kitchen to grab something to eat. Your eyes glance around the room and see Logan sitting on one of the armchairs with a cigar in his hand. Some random show is playing on the TV but you can tell he isn’t paying attention; his mind is somewhere else.

“Hey lo! Whatcha up to?”

He’s lost in thought, but his head snaps up when hears you. He looks up at you and gives you small smile, taking a drag from his cigar before responding.

“Just thinkin'. Nothin' important, Darlin'. What're you up to?”

You move across the room towards the entrance of the kitchen and point, your cheeks turning pink at his petname for you.

“Gonna make something to eat. You hungry?” You ask.

He stays silent for a moment, thinking about it, before nodding.

“Yeah, I could eat. What're you making?”

“Probably just a sandwich,” You shrug, “Nothin’ crazy”

He chuckles as he stands up and stretches a little, his shirt riding up slightly to show a sliver of his tanned stomach. He stubs out his cigar before nodding. Your eyes are glued to the small piece of tanned skin showing before his words snap your attention back to your task.

“Sure thing, Darlin'. Lead the way.”

You walk into the kitchen, Logan trailing behind you. You can feel his gaze burning into the back of you. You turn to him,

“Okay ill grab the stuff from the pantry if you wanna grab the stuff from the fridge?” He nods.

“Yeah, sure thing, Darlin’.”

He turns to the fridge and you turn towards the cabinets, searching for what you need when you notice the bread is on a high shelf out of reach

“Who the fuck put the bread up there?” You mutter under your breath and turn to ask Logan for help, leaning your back against the counter

.

“Hey Lo? Help a girl out, would you?” You ask with a fake pout making grabby hands at the bread that’s out of reach. He chuckles as you made grabby hands at it and strain to try to reach the shelf. He closes the fridge and walks over to you.

“Sure thing, Darlin'.”

Your breath hitches as you feel him pressed against you, caging you in against the counter with one of his hands resting on the counter near your hip. Looking up at him as he hands you the bread, you realize just how much taller he is than you, how much bigger.

“T-thanks, Lo,” you stutter. He smirks as he watches you flush, his eyes tracing every part of you.

“No problem, Darlin'.” He leans down so he was right next to your ear, his voice lowering as he spoke.

“You’re just a little too small, huh?” He teases. You playfully smack his arm and roll your eyes at his teasing words, blushing slightly.

“It’s not my fault I’m not freakishly tall like you,” you tease back.

“I think it’s cute,” he smirks as he leans even closer, his body pressed right against yours, your faces only inches apart. “Perfect jus’ the way ya are, Princess'.”

You feel your face getting even redder at his compliments. Your breath gets caught in your chest as he leans impossibly closer, embarrassed knowing he can probably hear your heart hammering against your ribcage.

“Thanks, Logan.” You say averting your eyes and turning your back to him, trying to focus on what you were doing before.

You hear him chuckle softly behind you at your embarrassment. He pushes off the counter to lean back against the island a few steps away from you. You take in a shuddering breath now that he was no longer pressed up against you, trying to focus on the sandwich-in-progress on the counter in front of you. You glance back to where he’s leaning against the counter. He watches you carefully as you make your sandwich, his eyes never leaving you. He shifts his weight against the counter with his arms crossed, his muscles flexing slightly as he moves. Your eyes involuntarily widen at the sight of his arms bulging. You quickly turn back around, trying to force down the thoughts running through your mind at the sight.

Your hands shake a bit with nervousness as you try to steady your thoughts. The idea of him pressed up against you again flashes through your head and you gasp lightly. The knife in your hand clatters to the floor.

“Shit!” You yelp. You bend down to pick up the knife, still trying to steady your breathing. He immediately looks down as the knife drops to the floor, his gaze trained on you as you bent over to pick it up. He instantly tenses, his face becoming flushed almost instantly at the sight in front of him. He steps up closer behind you, his body almost completely pressed up against yours again. His voice is low as he speaks.

“Careful, hon. Don’t wanna hurt yourself.” You jump slightly at the sound of his deep voice, realizing just how close to you he was again. You straighten back up and toss the knife into the sink, giving up on making your sandwich.

“Im okay!”

He was still standing right behind you, his body pressed right up against yours. he leans down towards your ear and speaks in a low, gruff voice,

“Yer makin' me think naughty thoughts with you bendin’ over like that, Darlin’.” You suck in a breath at his words. His intoxicating scent surrounds you and you feel the stubble on his chin run against the sensitive skin of your neck

“O-oh.” You stutter, “what kind of naughty thoughts?” He smirks as you stutter at his words, his hand slowly running up the side of your hip. His hot breath ghosts across the skin of your neck and shoulder, giving you chills.

“Oh, just the things I want to do to you, Darlin'...” You whimper at his grip on your hips and his breath against your neck, leaving you breathless and wanting him. You feel his hard bulge press against your ass and moan softly at the contact

“Logan, I--“ you pant, “didn’t think you liked me like that.” He chuckles at your reaction and places a gentle kiss on the underside of your jaw, his hands gripping your hips firmly as he presses his body even tighter against yours. He hums softly,

“I've been wantin' ya for a while now, Darlin'. You’ve been drivin' me crazy since I first met ya,”

You sigh as he kisses your jaw and neck, moaning as you feel his sculpted chest and abs against your back and his bulge pressing into your ass.

“Fuck Logan- I want you,” You say, leaning your head back against his shoulder.

Hearing you moan like that sends a shiver down his spine. He growls softly and pushes his hips against you a bit, his body yearning for you.

“Mm, is that so, princess? Sounds like someone's getting excited...” He trails off as he continues his kisses down your jawline and your neck, the stubble of his chin scratching deliciously across your sensitive skin.

You turn around in his grasp and wrap your arms around his neck, tangling your fingers in the hair at the nape of his neck.

“You came onto me Lo… don’t blame me for getting all hot and bothered at you pressing up against me like that” He chuckles at your comment, his own arms wrapping around your waist and holding you tightly against him. He hums at the feel of your fingers in his hair and tilts his head back slightly.

“Can ya blame me for wanting you? You're so damn sexy like this...” His mouth goes back to your neck, slowly leaving a trail of kisses and occasionally a few hickies down your throat. You throw your head back and tug at the locks of his hair between your fingers. You groan as you feel his hands slip up under your shirt and squeeze your hips.

“F-fuck-“ you sigh. Hearing you moan and sigh at his touch sends waves of heat through him and he groans slightly. He continues to kiss and bite your neck, his hands moving up and downyour sides under your shirt, the calloused skin of his hands rough against your softer skin.

“Such a sweet little thing... I wonder how long you'll last...”

You whimper from his words and buck your hips to meet his. You place a hand under his chin to tilt him back towards your face, leaning in and slotting your lips against his. You gasp as you feel him slide his hands down your back to your ass and feel him squeeze. He slides them down further and grasps the back of your thighs firmly, lifting you up with ease so he can set you on the counter.

He groans against your lips as he feels you grind your hips against his. He eagerly returns the kiss, his lips moving in perfect sync with yours. Once he lifts you up onto the counter he immediately steps between your legs, parting them. His hands once again on your hips, holding you.

“Mmm,” he moans, “Darlin' you're gettin' me all worked up here...”

“Logan,” you whimper, head tilting back, hands still gripping his hair. You feel his bulge press against your clothed core. “Oh, there—"

His voice deep and gravelly in your ear, “Yeah, baby? Like this?”

He rolls his hips against you gently, his breath getting heavier in your ear. Your eyes roll back into your head in pleasure at the feeling of him rutting against you. You wrap your legs around his waist to pull him impossibly closer.

“Holy shit—”

His breath hitches slightly at the sound of your soft moans. He grunts as he’s pulled closer, his face burying in the crook of your neck.

“S-so damn needy... Sound so pretty for me, doll.”

You’re a moaning, whimpering mess as he thrusts against you, the feeling of his body engulfing you, driving you close to the edge. He continues to grind against you, nearly losing his mind with you being so needy against him. The thin material of your shorts leaves nothing to the imagination as the friction from the rough denim against your clit sends sparks of pleasure straight to your core.

“Logan,” you gasp. “So good—"

“Don't worry, Darlin'... “ He breathes back, “I've got you”

His hands start to slide up under your shirt, tracing his hands over your stomach and up towards your chest, kneading the soft skin with his large palms. You moan loudly against his shoulder, biting down to try to muffle the noises escaping you. You grip his shoulders with all your strength as your legs start to shake against him. His hands pinch and pull at your nipples and you throw your head back and a throaty groan escapes your lips at the euphoric sensation

“Logan—shit!” you whimper, “Don’t stop—” You say as he starts to slow his movements, like he was going to pull away. A wicked grin spreads across his face as he comes to a realization.

“Is this gonna get you baby? You’re a mess already and I’ve barely touched you.”

You blush at his words, his thrusts picking up speed again. The feeling of his clothed tip nudging your clit brings you closer and closer to your release. You clamp a hand over your mouth to muffle the sounds of your climax approaching. Tears well in the waterline of your eyes from the overwhelming feeling of him pleasuring you.

“Look at me doll,” he demands. You snap your head up to look at him, surely with a fucked-out expression on your face. “Look so pretty f’me darlin’. Look at you crying from my cock, feels too good, huh?”

Your eyes roll back and you whimper at his words, “God—Yes, Lo. Getting s-so close—"

He returns his lips to your neck to press wet, hot kisses over the skin again, trailing up your jawline to nip at your earlobe.

“That’s it, baby. C’mon” he encourages you as you buck your hips to meet his thrusts, chasing your rapidly approaching orgasm.

“Lo—” You whine, “Gonna come-! Don’t stop d-don’t stop, please” you whine tearfully, gripping his shoulders and digging your nails in to ground yourself.

He groans into the crook of your neck, loving the painful pleasure of your nails biting into his skin. He starts to come undone from your begging, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you as close as he could, guiding your hips to meet his quick thrusts.

“Yeah, Darlin'... Need you to come for me. Be a good girl and let go”

He continues marking up your neck for the world to see, inhaling your sweet scent that he can’t seem to get enough of. His breathing becoming heavier and more uneven as his need for you increases.

“Logan! Feels so fucking good- oh god I’m so close—"

Hearing the sounds of you falling apart in his arms pushes him over the edge, his heaving breaths uneven and his muscles tensing from the feeling of you coming undone against him.

“Mmm, yes, Darlin'... Let go baby... Come for me, princess” he moans and licks a stripe up the shell of your ear. His deliciously large hands groping your chest and pinching your stiff peaks.

The feeling of his hands on you, all over you, send you over the edge. Your orgasm lighting you up and splitting you open from top to bottom. Your eyesight goes slightly blurry from the intensity of your release. You grip his hair and pull hard to ground yourself. You pull him towards you and crash your lips to his in a heated kiss. You could feel his thrusts become faster and shorter, knowing he was close

“Fuck princess... you're drivin' me crazy... gonna make me come—" His body trembles and his hips start to lose rhythm.

“Logan—” you pant against his ear, “Want you to come for me- please baby- need to feel you.” You press your lips to his jaw and kiss down the column of his throat, winding one of your hands in his hair to tug at it. You pull away for a second to whisper against him again

“I know you’re close Lo,” you nip at his lower lip and he whines into your mouth. “Wanna feel you. C’mon baby… let go for me Logan.”

He nearly loses it when he hears your throaty voice in his ear again, his name sounding like a prayer from your lips. He could only focus on your voice and your breath against his skin as you spoke, his control slipping more with every word. He could feel the pressure building and building almost to the breaking point, his body quivering with need and his hands gripping your hips with a bruising force.

“F-fuck Logan… so fucking good baby. Need you to come. Get it lo, come for me”

He groans loudly against your skin, barely able to think or speak as his climax rapidly approaches, all he could say was your name.

“Fuck—oh, fuck—I’m coming doll—shit!”

With one more desperate moan against your skin and a final roll of his hips against you, he completely unravels, his mind lost in a haze of lust from you. He groans your name in a low, gruff voice as he rides out his orgasm.

“So good baby… so fucking good for me Lo,” You scratch your nails against his scalp lightly to ground him, his clothed cock still throbbing against your core

Your words and the feel of your nails against his skin was the only thing he could focus on as he tried to regain his breathing and composure.

“Ah... mmm... Darlin'... You'll be the death of me...” He pants against your neck, pressing light kisses on your shoulder.

“Big words comin’ from a man who can’t die” You smirk at him teasingly. He chuckles softly at your words, taking a few more deep breaths to try to calm himself down

“Heh, Darlin', you know what I mean... You drive me crazy, gonna kill me one of these days...” he breathes.You lean into the weight of his against your neck, turning your head to place a gentle kiss against his, sliding your hands up and down his shoulders soothingly.

“I sure hope not,” You tease, “I’m gonna need you to stick around for a while now that I know what you’re capable of.” He hums softly as your hands slide across his shoulders gently gripping your hips with his hands, fingers tracing small patterns on your skin.

”Mmm, don’t you worry, Darlin'. I ain’t goin’ anywhere. You’re stuck with me now.”

“Good.” You sigh against his hair, “Let’s go get cleaned up honey.” You hop down from the counter as he releases your hips. You stumble slightly, legs shaky from the aftermath of your intense orgasm, and you wrap a hand around his bicep for stability.

He chuckles at your lack of balance and shaky legs, a sense of pride and satisfaction surging through his chest. He wraps his arms around you and steadies you against him.

“Easy there, princess. Looks like I did a number on ya, huh?” He gives you a cocky smirk as he holds you close against his chest. You look up at him with a mischievous glint in your eyes.

“Is that all you got, Howlett?” Before he can react, you sprint out of the kitchen towards the stairs. He was caught off guard at first, his eyes widening in surprise as he watches you flee from him. He takes a moment to react, then smiles and lets out a huff in response. He could hear you laughing and the grin on his face only grew.

“Darlin'... you're playin’ a dangerous game with me right now,” He calls after you. You started giggling madly as you hear his heavy footsteps start behind you. He lets out a low chuckle as he chases after you up the stairs, slowly gaining on you as his legs were much longer than yours. You giggle and squeal as you feel his strong, muscular arms wrap around you, lifting you from the ground.

“Logan!” You shriek, as he lifts you higher to put one arm around your back and the other behind your legs, carrying you bridal style, holding you close against his solid chest.

“Heh, I gotcha now darlin’.” He ducks down to whisper huskily in your ear.

And have you he did.

[amaya-writes]

You Call Them After A Nightmare Of Them Obey Me Edition

Series Mlist

Notes: I miss Obey Me and I recently used this prompt for another fandom so I decided to just make this a series and do it for every fandom. Will make another part with the other 4.

Warnings: n/a just fluff, one of those rare moments where Lucifer is soft, many petnames from all, Mammon is panicky, calls you princess n stuff, kinda wanted a funny scene for Levi so that's what I went with, also panicky

Characters involved: Lucifer, Mammon, Leviathan

Gender-neutral reader, you/yours

Lucifer

"What is it, love?"

He picked up on the first ring. Of course, Lucifer did.

In your panicked daze you hadn't exactly considered what to say to Lucifer had he picked up your call. You just wanted to hear his voice, to know that he was okay and probably holed up in his office again sifting through paperwork.

But how could you actually tell him that?

"Oh- um- it's nothing, sorry I'm bothering you."

The soft scratch of pen against paper previously hung in the background of the call but Lucifer's hand seemed to come to a stop at the sound of your voice.

"You're crying."

It wasn't a question, but a statement that made your previous tears resurface.

"It's nothing."

"Love-"

"I swear, it's nothing you don't have to-"

"I'll be there soon, and I expect an explanation when I get there."

Lucifer cut the call even before you could think of an excuse. The sharp beep of the call ending made you sigh as you attempted to fix up your appearance, but the avatar of pride showed up at your door just as you contemplated washing your face.

He looked livid, to say the least.

But you couldn't find it in yourself to care, not when the only thought echoing through your mind was that Lucifer was here, and safe.

The fact that he looked ready to murder anyone who dared bring his beloved to tears was irrelevant.

"What happened?"

His voice took on a tender tone you would rarely hear from someone like Lucifer. The sound was enough to almost have you balling again, but you reared in your emotions for the sake of his sanity.

"I had a nightmare about you. I know it sounds so extremely stupid and I'm sorry I pulled you away from work but I told you not to come and-"

A sliver of a smile ghosted his lips as Lucifer ran a gloved hand through his hair. He seemed relieved at your words- a reaction you certainly hadn't expected.

However, he switched back to his usual seriousness the second he plopped down on the bed beside you.

"Do you know how many nights I've awoken in a cold sweat after nightmares of losing you?"

A shaky gasp left his lips as he spoke. Lucifer looked almost scared. An emotion you would never associate with the all-powerful demon before you. The mere sight made you instinctively caress his gloved hand in yours as Lucifer continued.

"Honestly, dear, I feel somewhat satisfied you care for me enough to harbour similar fears."

"You didn't think I love you?"

Hw turned to you at the question, slightly shaking his head as he replied.

"I didn't realise how much."

"Oh, Luci."

His nose wrinkled at the endearing nickname, but you didn't allow him a moment to respond as you quickly climbed into his lap.

"I love you, Lucifer. I don't think I've ever loved anyone as much, and I don't think I ever can. And the thought of losing you, no matter how bizarre, makes me feel like I'm losing a part of myself."

You leaned in as you spoke, dropping small pecks on his warm cheeks dusted pink.

"I know we don't do this often, because we don't have to. But I need you to know I'm just as hopelessly smitten by you as you are by me."

"I find that very hard to believe, darling."

Lucifer leaned forward to rest his forehead against yours, taking a moment to drop kisses of his own on your face and swipe at the remanents of your tears.

"Next time, just come to me. At whatever hour, whatever day- if you need me I'm yours, love."

It was rare to see such a soft side of the notorious avatar of pride, his words causing butterflies to swarm in your stomach as Lucifer leaned in for a slow, tender kiss.

Come morning your beloved demon would go back to his strict Tsundere ways, reserving his sweet words and touches for moments that mattered most.

But you were fine with that, because this was Lucifer. Your Lucifer. The demon you had come to love for all his quirks and flaws.

The demon who loved you just as much, even if he rarely expressed it.

Mammon

The soft rings echoing through your room helped provide you some semblance of comfort, however, they could do nothing to quell the anxiety eating away at your psyche.

He was fine. It was just a dream.

Mammon was immortal. He had lived for hundreds of years, he was strong, stronger than most and he couldn't be killed so easily. You knew that, but- but after witnessing that awful, revolting nightmare you couldn't help but rethink those facts.

Because what if?

What if you woke up one day in this God awful Devildom to find yourself robbed of the only being who kept you going?

What if one day your number one demon, your world, your rock, your immortal and incredibly endearing thief of a boyfriend who stole your heart and soul and everything that came with it- was gone?

What if?

The question made you feel like emptying your stomach's contents on your bedroom floor, but thankfully, a familiar voice drafted through the air just as you were about to hurl.

"You finally wanna join me dont ya?"

Mammon!

You could barely hear his voice over the sound of the pounding music playing at whatever gambling den he had snuck out to that night, but there was no mistaking your favourite demon's cocky voice.

You almost screamed in relief at his familiar carefree tone, or you would have if you could just stop the sobs tumbling from your lips the second he spoke.

"Princess? Hey baby what's wrong?"

The thinly laced concern in his voice only served to worsen your mood, your sorrow quickly turning to guilt as you realised how stupid you were acting.

Mammon barely got nights out with Lucifer always keeping a close eye on him and Asmo, and the one night the two brothers decide to go out and party you ruin it with your nightmares.

Stupid, useless, human. The words echoed through your mind, forcing you to hastily reach for your phone and end the call.

You should have known your decision would only make matters much worse, but at the time you just wanted to hide under your covers and run away from the world.

Mammon was safe, and that was enough for now. You could deal with the rest later.

"Which bastard in this damned house hurt my baby?!"

Mammon's yell pierced through the dead halls of the House of Lamentation, jolting you out of your light slumber.

It was a good thing this was one of those rare nights when Lucifer was with Diavolo and Satan chose to party with Asmo, for if the three were at home you would be facing a much more embarrassing situation.

You contemplated leaving your bed to chastise Mammon, but the demon in question threw open your bedroom door just as you sat up in your sheets.

"There you are, treasure. Hey-"

He must have noticed the tear tracks staining your cheeks due to the hallway light, since Mammon quickly shut the door and joined you on the bed a second later.

"What's wrong?"

One of his hands almost automatically shifted to cup your cheek and turn you to him, the gesture causing your tears to resurface. But this time they were out of happiness.

How were you so lucky to find a demon like Mammon?

"Nothing um- I had a nightmare of you and- look I know it's stupid ok I'm sorry you can go back if you want."

"You really think THE great Mammon would leave his baby crying in your bed in the middle of the night?"

You couldn't help the scoff that left your lips at his response. His familiar mannerisms helped eliminate your previous fears, allowing you to collapse against Mammon's chest.

A surprised yelp left him at the sudden gesture, but Mammon still wrapped his arms around you to pull your form further against him. He shifted the two of you under the sheets a moment later, his arms never leaving you even as he moved.

His leather jacket was awfully uncomfortable to lean against, and he smelled of Demonus and his usual cologne strong enough to seep into your sheets.

The two of you would probably wake up with aching sides if you cuddled through the night, and he would spend the morning complaining about not washing off the glitter Asmo dusted on his eyes, which would also stain your pillows.

There were a lot of issues with your current position. But you couldn't find it in yourself to care.

Mammon was here. Beside you, in your arms with his heart beating softly to the sound of your breaths. And that was what mattered to you the most.

Leviathan

You knew he would never answer the call this late.

Levi was known for staying up through the night to spend hours gaming or streaming a new anime. His phone was almost always left on silent, something that Lucifer would constantly chastise the Otaku for.

Yet, as you shivered under your covers with the remnants of your nightmare clinging to your psyche, you couldn't help but hope Levi would defy all odds and just pick up the damn phone.

An annoyed groan left your lips as you shuffled further under your covers. Tears clung to your lash-line, but you refused to let them fall.

He was fine. It was just a nightmare, that was all.

Leviathan. Was. Fine.

"God, Levi, please pick up!"

Your frustrated cry echoed through your cold bedroom, but the only response was another series of rings from your phone.

After trying a final time you found yourself hopelessly collapsing against your pillows just as the first few tears slipped to your cheeks.

Most percieved Leviathan as the introverted Otaku who wasn't nearly as problematic as his brothers, but his position in the army ensured Levi had gathered his fair share of enemies over the years.

It wasn't often that he was called on duty, but when he was you always found your heart clenching in trepidation.

You couldn't lose Levi. It didn't matter if it was simply your dreamland—the mere thought of never seeing your purple-haired love again almost made you race through the halls of the House of Lamentation to seek solace in his arms.

But he was busy, and it was almost three am. And your stupid nightmares would probably seem childish and annoying to an immortal demon like Levi. Which was why as much as you hated it, you couldn't do anything but fall back asleep.

The familiar feeling of a certain demon's tail caressing your face made you hum in comfort. Your previous anxiety ebbed away, allowing your sleep-ridden mind to calm down and overcome the effects of your nightmares.

Only Levi could have that effect on you. Levi, who was supposed to be couped up in his room right now.

The thought made you snap your eyes open to sleepily stare at the demon standing above your bed.

A sharp shriek echoed through your room a second later, the sound causing a small smile to grace your lips as you tugged on Levi's sweater to pull him under the sheets with you.

"What- hey what is up with you!"

Levi sounded more pouty than annoyed, his tone making it clear he had noticed the tear tracks no doubt running down your cheeks.

The two of you remained silent like that for a while, with Levi awkwardly rubbing your back while you tried to get rid of the aftermaths of your nightmare.

"You okay?"

You considered explaining the situation to him, but you were too tired and instead settled on a vague reply.

"I am now."

"Oh. Guess that means I can't go back to-" you whacked his chest even before he could finish, eliciting another yelp.

"Ok, ok- I won't leave."

A pleasant hum left your lips at his reply, allowing you to happily collapse against his chest yet again. This time, however, you could feel Levi wrapping his arms around you.

Your night might have started off with a rough start, but at least you got a rare cuddle session from Levi.

[woundedoves]

hi! I was wondering if you could do hcs for genshin men (Preferably Neuvillette or Wriothesley, but feel free to add if you want) with a fem! reader who's like robin from hsr? Like she's a famous singer and everything? I don't know if she would be a halovian or not since they dont exist in genshin, but you can choose. Can be sfw or nsfw, I don't mind. Hope you have a lovely day, and remember to take care!

Wriothesley, Neuvillette x Singer!Fem!Reader(NSFW)

a/n: heres the food for my girls<3

CW: breeding kink, exhibitionism/voyeurism (wriothesley’s part) not proofread!

.˚ * ꒰ঌ✦໒꒱ * ˚. .˚ * ꒰ঌ✦໒꒱ * ˚. .˚ * ꒰ঌ✦໒꒱ * ˚. .˚ * ꒰

Wriothesley

˚₊‧꒰ა 𓂋 ໒꒱ ‧₊˚ Can’t attend every one of your concerts, but whenever he has a sliver of free time, he makes sure he’s there to listen to your heavenly voice. Has a framed photo of you on his desk, sometimes his eyes drift to it and a small smile graces his features. Gets a tinge of jealousy in his gut when he hears others fawn over you or when they have been to every one of your concerts, it’s childish but what can he say? He’s possessive of what’s his.

˚₊‧꒰ა 𓂋 ໒꒱ ‧₊˚ Which is a quality of him that shows itself in sex as well. Your thighs and especially your neck are always littered with bite marks and hickeys. He fuckin’ loves the pretty noises you make as he bites down, his pretty bird singing for him.

˚₊‧꒰ა 𓂋 ໒꒱ ‧₊˚ He also loves to play with those pretty wings of yours. He loves to grab onto the base of them as he is pounding your cunt from behind, feeling you clench tighter around him every time his hands grip the base of your wings. Hurts like hell but feels so fucking good at the same time, like your whole body is buzzing with electricity as you feel the tip of his cock brush against your cervix. Tightening around him with a moan as his hands wander down your breasts, his thumb circling your nipple as he kisses your neck.

˚₊‧꒰ა 𓂋 ໒꒱ ‧₊˚ Mating position is his favorite, loves to tease you by telling you he’s gonna knock you up, you’re gonna be his in your entirety, then people won’t have a choice but to acknowledge his presence as your boyfriend.

˚₊‧꒰ა 𓂋 ໒꒱ ‧₊˚ The way those pretty wings flutter as he fingers you, his tongue flicking over your cunt as the feeling of his cold metal rings against your entrance make you shiver. You moan and whine so cutely, your voice really is captivating in all aspects.

˚₊‧꒰ა 𓂋 ໒꒱ ‧₊˚ He often daydreams about just fucking you on a stage, it’s just a daydream, but he can’t help himself. How would you react? Would you spread your legs like a good bird and let everyone see hoe his fat cock ruins that pretty cunt of yours? Would you let him cum all the way inside, fuck his cum back inside you, watch its stream down onto his dick as he drives his cock in an out, your pretty cries getting louder as you get tighter around him…

Neuvillette

˚₊‧꒰ა 𓂋 ໒꒱ ‧₊˚ A very supportive boyfriend, the melusines adore you so much as well. Your concerts usually clash with his schedule, but the couple of times he could watch you, he was mesmerized. Your voice was heavenly, the way your wings moved with the beat of the music as your voice reached the deepest parts of his soul, he shyly asks for your singing when he’s feeling deeply stressed.

˚₊‧꒰ა 𓂋 ໒꒱ ‧₊˚ Sweetheart in bed, fucks you slowly and sensually…most of the time. His cock is so fuckin’ long, reaches your cervix with no problem, begs to cum inside when he’s particularly needy, you’re typically too gone by that point, dragging his cock in and out of your cunt as his claws grip and dig into your breasts, all you can manage are cute little whimpers as he fucks you like a toy.

˚₊‧꒰ა 𓂋 ໒꒱ ‧₊˚ His claws don’t hurt when he’s fingering you, actually. He loves to have you on his lap when he fucks you with his claws, kissing your pretty wings as he feels them flutter under his lips, moans against your ear with want when you cum around his fingers, pumping them in and out to help you ride out your orgasm. He loves to taste your cum, actually, even if it has you flustered.

˚₊‧꒰ა 𓂋 ໒꒱ ‧₊˚ Has that long, dragon tongue, of course he fucks your cunt with it. Makes you feel so fucking full as he thrusts it inside, your cunt covering it in your cum as you grip your pillow, grinding your cunt against his face as you moan and whine, making the pretties noises for him. Loves it when you cum around his tongue or cock, gets him so hard he groans as he can’t help but fuck into you, your pretty cunt so tight around him, coating his dick with your cum, looks so pretty, you look so pretty with that fucked out expression.

˚₊‧꒰ა 𓂋 ໒꒱ ‧₊˚ Cleans up your cunt with his tongue when he cums inside, having you twitching and crying out as you feel his tongue find the sweet spots, his tongue is so fucking long and thick fuck, if he could, he would fuck you with it all day, just have you cum around it again and again so he can taste you.

[killakalx]

I saw your post about free use with ak!jason and I'm drooling at the thought of it. Gotta drop a thought though. AK!Jason fucking you while in a meeting with his men. Why? Cuz why not? Who's gonna tell him no? Nobody, also just to show off and be like none of you guys can have this, all mine.

i feel like this is a really big fantasy of his but it’s strictly a fantasy. as much as he loves the idea of claiming you, showing off how dumb you get for his cock and how easily he puts you in a bitch’s place, he’s a tad 🤏🏽 too possessive for it. he’ll throw you around, yank you back by the hair and correct any nonsense, but those pathetic noises and pretty little faces you make when he’s bruising your insides are only for him to see.

he’ll get you all situated in his lap during a meeting though, in skimpy cloth that you can just barely call clothing bc just before this he was so close to letting you cum. he’d get you realllll close and then ruin your orgasm or keep you from it all together, so now you’re squirming on his thigh against the rough fabric of his combat pants. men are ogling, whispering, and that part of him tempted to fuck you then and there gets overshadowed by that nasty obsession he has with keeping you for himself. like… it’s bad. pull a gun on the motherfucker that’s muttering about the cute piece of ass in his lap typa bad.

“…dismissed,” he’d announce with a sliver of collectedness he has left, which is gone when that same motherfucker’s got the nerve to ‘huh’ him. now you feel kinda bad for the guy, cuz he aint walking out of that meeting room okay. and like i said, he’d love to fuck you outta your mind in front of a bunch of limp dicks, but he knows he knows he’s better off accusing you of wanting it instead. the arkham knight is a d1 projector i fear

he’s mean as hell about it too, calling you all types of nasty names. the rasp of the voice modulator scratches at your ear, thick material of his gloves up against your throat and threatening to cut circulation off. your voice squeaks when you try to deny his name calling, but the wet patch on his pants from your already leaking cunt prove otherwise. the frustration and strain against his boxers has him bending you over the debriefing table with his cock buried to the hilt. weakly, you begin to sit up, but you’re quickly corrected with a heavy hand pushing your head into the flat surface. “you wish they were still in here,” he huffs with agitation, “just so they can watch you whore yourself out?” your face is ruined, pushed into the table with damp cheeks as he fucks you so hard your feet dangle. anyone happens to walk in? a quick draw of his gun and a shot just barely missing his head gets the door back shut pretty fast, but dare i say instead of holstering it he’s pressing the barrel to the back of your head and fucking you until you’re babbling nonsense and drooling before he’s even gotten over his little fantasy yet.

[jinwoosbabyboo]

"The Sunset is Beautiful Isn't It?" pt. 1

The saying above is a beautiful way to bid someone farewell without having to say goodbye and I think it perfectly fits saying goodbye to our LaD Men because we can't keep hurting them. Someone has to end it. In first person p.o.v because it's you.

Goodbye Zayne

Your POV

I've been having dreams and I'm not sure I can even call them dreams. They're more like nightmares of a girl watching Zayne sacrifice himself for her. By the third sleepless night of terrors I've realized that girl...

is me...

These aren't nightmares they're slivers of time in the past. My past with him. These were not REM sleep hallucinations, I've been peaking through the eyes of my past lives. Foreseer, Master of Fate, Arctic Medic.....

Dawnbreaker....

A version of Zayne who rarely speaks. He never spoke a word to me, but showed vivid shock when I spoke to him in my dream. It was as if I saw through not only time, but space as well. I don't even exist in his world and even him I've hurt. I can feel his eyes on me as I sleep; our dreams intertwining with one another.

I've failed him. How can he smile at me now when I've failed to protect his smile time and time again. I can barely look him in the eye now without wanting to break down. He even became a cardiologist to help me. I want him so bad, but I can't do it I can't let this cycle continue.

One of us has to end it.

"Zayne...." He looks up from his paperwork that's sprawled out on his desk in his home office. "What's wrong? You look as though you have something heavy weighing on your mind" Just that simple concern made my heart feel like it was caving in on itself. My eyes burned with unshed tears as my words got caught in my throat. He quickly stands and briskly walks towards me, but I flinch away. He stares in disbelief at my sudden movement. "Did I do something?" I don't deserve his concern. I don't deserve his love.

I don't deserve him.

"Wh-" I swallowed hard feeling like thorns were piercing my throat. "Why did you become a cardiologist?" I whispered looking down at my feet.

"My parents are doctors I simply followed in their footsteps" He's so humble. "That's the only reason?" Before I could react his hands were cupping my cheeks and just looking into those green eyes that stared back in concern broke me. I sobbed as he held my face. "You may have also been a deciding factor....where is this coming from?"

It was then I knew why that past version of Zayne left without a word after I fell asleep. It really is too hard to say goodbye to the face of someone who looks at you as if you've hung the stars in the sky. "I'm just .... so thankful for you" I whisper.

Zayne's POV

She was always breathtaking when she didn’t know I was admiring her but that day as we sat on the balcony of her apartment the softest smile pulled at her lips. I could tell there was some melancholy in there as if she knew something I didn’t or there was something she wanted to say but couldn’t find the words.

She slowly turned her head and held my gaze. Dear God she was gorgeous and with just one look I was stumbling over myself. She spoke softly as she grabbed my hand and moved it to her lap. “The sunset is beautiful, isn’t it?”

All I could mutter out was a low raspy “Yes, yes it is”

…If I knew I’d never see her again after that day I would have held her hand tighter.

Goodbye Rafayel

Your POV

"What's going on in that pretty head of yours?" Rafayel poked me in my forehead following it with that rich giggle. We've been laying on his couch since he called me an hour ago to come over. He wants my full attention, but I can't stop my mind from wandering. I don't understand how he can still find it in himself to love me after everything I've done to him over the centuries.

"Why haven't you taken my heart yet?" He's shocked stock still as the words leave my mouth. I can see his entire demeanor shift from playful to somber as he looks away. "Raf your flame is dying..."

"Who told you?"

"I've been getting flashes of memories with you from a past I don't remember" He stands from the couch and begins to pace. "I know why there are pearls all over your house"

"Don't do this please" He's on his knees now holding my hands. Why is he begging to keep me around when our love is a tragedy?

"Raf you've got to save your home and your dying flame please just take my heart this pain is too much for me to bare anyway"

"I will not! I choose to love you I chose you and I'll always-"

I couldn't hold back my tears anymore. "Stop stop! Just stop please I can't do this Raf I've never been so depressed in my life I've ruined you and I can't live with this" I try to pull my hands from him but he has an iron grip around my wrists now. I struggle trying to get away from him sobbing as I fight in vain.

"I'll take care of everything I don't need your heart"

"Yes you do Raf" I finally manage to wrench my wrist from his grasp and I dash towards the door. Just as I grasp the handle and pull the door open he's right behind me slamming it shut.

"Where are you going?" His eyes are wild and full of desperation as they search my face for answers.

"I just need some air Raf ... I'll be back" We stand there staring at each other for what feels like hours before he drops his hand and I slip out of the door.

Rafayel's POV

There's three solid knocks at my studio door each one giving me even more of a headache. "Studios closed go away!"

"Rafayel..."

I knew that voice what's she doing here? I stroll over to the door cracking it open so only my face can be seen. "Aren't you going to let your aunt in?" Talia said with irritation in her voice. "Why are you here?"

"I have something for you ... it's from MC" I froze at her words. I hadn't heard from her in over a month. I quickly opened the door and finally noticed the white box marked with bio-hazard on the side.

My heart dropped I couldn't help but fall to my knees as my aunt slid the box into my hands. "Is this...."

"Its her heart ... she left this note for you as well"

I snatched the letter from her tearing into it in hopes this was some kind of sick joke. I would forgive her for it. I swear on my life I would.

My Beloved Groom, The sunset is beautiful isn't it? ♡

I couldn't do anything except lay on the floor and curl my body around the box that held her lifeline. Nothing but a piece of the woman who was my lifeline.

Zaynes fanart @/Shanyi708944594 on twitter

Xavier & Sylus here...