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wyvernest · 1 year ago

Note

Oh my god I saw your requests were open and I love eveything you write<33

I See many fics where Miguel is the one who is jealous, but what if the tables turned and the reader is the one who is jealous, maybe she’s a civilian and she feels like he’d be better of with a spider person who understands his work better? I’d love to see him feel sad that his love feels that way can you tell I like pain lol

Thank you so so much<33 wishing you all the best for your exam! I’m sure you’ll do amazing!

shameless

pairing: bf!miguel x f!civilian!reader

warnings: jealousy, fluff, suggestiveness, public display of affection

summary: you're worried that miguel might be better off with a spider-person, but he is eager to reassure you (and everyone else) that you're more than enough

a/n:thank you and i hope you like it! im thinking of making a part 2 with balcony sex above nueva york let me know if yall would want it<3

divider by @cafekitsune

You are aware of the so called disadvantages of him being your boyfriend.

He is handsome, no doubt. But that means a lot more than being able to watch him work around the HQ, swinging your legs and wondering how you landed him.

It means having unfamiliar eyes linger over him more than you'd be able to tolerate. Flirty looks and remarks thrown at him like he's magnetic, regardless of everyone knowing he's with you.

Even walking through the glassy hallways and cloud scratching towers of Spider Society is a stab in the heart.

Noticing all the single spider-women look him up and down, eyelids heavy with the seconds that passed as they unabashedly stared at his physique; his broad back, the bulky arms and toned thighs, at the way the muscles underneath his suit rippled with every heavy step he took, not letting his weight drop lazily on each foot but rather walking with the energetic strength of a man with insane stamina.

You couldn't stop a venomous surge of anxiety mixed with the most sour amount of jealousy from dripping into your nerves as you met their gazes, seeing how beautiful and charismatic they all were.

How agile and gracious they were, swinging by just to blow Miguel a fleeting kiss.

And you certainly couldn't stop wondering if he'd be better off with one of them. One of his kind. One that would be able to swing alongside him, to practise with him, to accompany him.

One that would understand him better than perhaps you ever could.

You know he loves you, or else you wouldn't be together. But the idea that he maybe even once looked at all the women lining up for him and thought they'd be interesting to try is gutting you out.

And he starts noticing it.

Of course.

He isn't oblivious to how you straightened your back or curled your arms around his when another spider woman passed you with flirty looks or remarks. How you'd shut down and become awfully quiet when you two would get home following one of these encounters.

He couldn't bear to see you unhappy. Some of the times he even felt the sharp sting of guilt poking into his heart, knowing that he was the reason others were upsetting you.

More so, your bond.

You are heading towards his lab at HQ, walking beside him, heart pounding intermittently with anxiety and bubbling anger. Eyes darting around you swiftly, like those of a feral feline making sure no other animal is preparing to jump her and snatch her food from her.

Suddenly, two flowy silhouettes shoot mile long webs far up into a tunnel bridge, only to drop down and swing right past you and Miguel.

Purring out a simultaneous "¡Hola, Miguel! Looking good today!", reaching their hands down to him while boasting perfect balance with their webs tied to their ankles, they disappear into the distanced skyscrapers of Nueva York, with echoing giddy laughters.

Miguel doesn't move his head in their direction, already way too familiar with such interactions, and already too interested in hearing only one particular ¡Hola, Miguel! - yours.

Only your focus isn't on him. Your mind is running wild with how talented they seemed to be, how flexible and enticing. Already imagining him, playfully swinging with them, his force and precision perfectly matching their grace and melodic rhythm.

A dance you could never participate in.

What you also fail to see is the frown on his face as he turns to you, intrigued and finally ready to catch you off guard.

"¿Qué pasó, amor?" (What happened, love?) He leaned into you, dragging you by your arm to stop you behind a glass pillar.

You're hauled out of your reverie, eyes widening in panic as you think of something less pathetic and embarrassing to say than the truth.

"Hm? Nothing, I just think they're nice to look at." You motion with your head the direction the two women swung in, clarifying. "Everytime you bring me here, it's all so … breathtaking." You internally wince at the excuse, pulling the best poker face you could muster.

He takes a deep breath, annoyed but patient.

"You know you can tell me anything." He assures you, voice low and whispered so as not to embarrass you in front of the spiders passing by. He is aware that the place isn't the most fitting for the conversation, but any other time he'd tried to coax it out of you, you dismissed it with a "It's nothing. I'm just feeling off today."

Truth be told, he had his suspicions. He is by no means unacquainted with the ways of women, and without a single condescending bone in his body when it came to you, he wants you to spit it out so you could talk about it. So he could untangle the knots in your heart, the doubts about him and your relationship.

"I know." You reply shortly, something in you dying to snap out and tell him everything, but instead, you shut it down at the last moment and decided to leave it at that.

"Then why don't you?" He looms over you, unintentionally, but you start to feel utterly cornered. Your heart is drumming out of your chest, and you are more than certain he can at least hear it. His face reveals his disappointment, however hopeful and attentive he wants to seem.

And just like that, your fronts break down.

"I'm - Don't get me wrong," you trail off, not looking him in the eye. You feel his warm breath fan over your forehead, getting dizzy from the sudden proximity. "I love this place. All the work you put into it.." Your eyes meet his for a fleeting second. "But sometimes it reminds me of how different I am.", You pause, waiting for a response. When he doesn't interrupt, you continue, "How I don't fit in,... here, beside you."

"What is that supposed to mean?" He looks almost pissed, as if you had told him he doesn't fit in. As if he was the one that didn't fit you.

"I mean I'm not … them. I'm not a spider."

"I'm aware of that." he retorts, ironically. "When did that stop me from loving you?". His tone is scolding. He is trying to maintain an unaffected demeanor so you would keep talking, but inside, his heart cracks at your words.

Your face heats up, surprised.

"It's not that." You have to actively stop yourself from leaning into his body and hiding into the warmth of his embrace, so that maybe all the jealousy and worry will wash away. But he deserves an explanation, now that you've admitted your feelings. "They know a side of you that I can only imagine. How it feels to be…like you."

His face softens, full of love and pity.

"I'm the odd one out here." You spit out, frustrated with his silence. "I can't give you everything they can!"

"I don't want what they have." He answers quickly, sincerely. You find it hard to believe, even though he's never lied to you.

To you, he's perfect. He deserves everything. Everything he could get.

And you're not enough.

"Escúchame." (Listen to me) He leans closer into you, his breath hot on your face. "Estoy enamorado de ti." (I'm in love with you.) "I only need you to be happy."

You finally meet his gaze, full of consideration and fondness. You pray to whatever god hears you that he means it, because you're too far gone in your love for him to go back now.

"What will it take for you to just relax and stop being jealous, hm?" He whispers, smugly and amused. It's clear that he's flattered with your sentiments and possessiveness, but wants to nonetheless fix your issues.

You feel yourself getting immersed into the scent of him, his body heat radiating onto yours. You don't quite know the answer yourself. He grabs your waist right above your hips, sending shivers up your spine. Pulling you closer to him, he moves his head to your ear.

"What if I kissed you right here, right now? Let everyone know that I love you, and only you."

Miguel was very clearly overjoyed with the excuse to show you some public affection, especially if it meant having you so flustered and pliant beneath him.

"Would that make you feel better? Knowing they'll be the jealous ones now?"

You nod, more or less consciously, lifting yourself up on your tiptoes almost reflexively.

His warm and eager hands on your waist strengthen their grip, lifting you further up against his body as your feet lose contact with the ground, your chest meeting his. His lips are soft and tender against yours, dancing in a slow, passionate kiss. With your eyes still closed, you hear a few gasps near you in the hall; some happily amused, some offended.

But you don't care. All you care about right now is how he's tilting your head to the side with one of his palms at the back of your neck, slipping his tongue into your mouth and deepening the kiss.

You continue to make out without a care in the world, just for the whole Spider Society to receive a much needed reminder that Miguel O'Hara is taken.

His hands knead the supple flesh of your lower back, making your hum softly into his mouth, your own arms curling around his neck in a vicious hold.

When you least expect it, you feel one hand descend swiftly, leaving you no time to react as he grabs at your ass hard, so hard you jolt up against him, eyes snapping open in shock.

Without moving his hand, he presses his nose to your pulse point, exhales sultry on the sensitive skin.

"I have another idea."

#miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara smut #miguel ohara x reader #miguel ohara #miguel o'hara imagine #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o'hara x reader one shot #atsv miguel #miguel o hara #miguel spiderman #miguel o'hara x you #miguel o’hara smut #miguel spiderverse #miguel x reader #spider man 2099 #spiderman 2099 #spiderman 2099 x reader #across the spiderverse

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spikedhe4rt · 2 years ago

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I need dating Darry hcs. NSFW and SFW

Darry Curtis x Reader Headcanons 🪸🪸

A/N: I hope yall enjoy this, I also have a darry smut coming out soon. My request box is always open!! Love you guys<3

✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。

❥ You met eachother while he fixed your roof, which your family helped you pay for.

❥ You kept making excuses to come outside and talk to him.

"Hey, Darry" you yelled out to make sure he could hear you from the roof. He responded with a loud "yea?" I smiled at his voice. "I made you lemonade and homemade pretzels.

❥ You started to invite him inside the house and talk more

❥ You were highly upset when he finished your roof, you knew you would miss him.

❥ He asked you out on his last day because he took so much interest in you.

❥ You both wanting to take it slow, because he had his brothers to look out for.

❥ Meeting Soda and Pony, and them taking a liking to you.

❥ Visiting his parents grave with him for support.

Darry gave a sad chuckle as he finished a story about the time his parents bought him his first bike. "They sound amazing, Dare" you gave him a loving smile before a tears ran down his cheeks. "They were. I just really miss them sometimes."

You nodded and brought him in for a hug. Once the hug ended, his lips found their way to your forehead, kissing it softly. "Thank you for coming with me."

❥ Trying to keep a serious face when he lectures Pony over the silliest things.

"Ponyboy, how many times do I have to tell you...you can't leave your stuff anywhere. You left your book on the floor and Soda slipped on it." You truly tried to hold it in, but once he said Soda fell, you lost it. Wheezes came out as you tried to control yourself. You were met with the eyes of shocked and mildly offended Darry as he stared.

❥ You calming him down with kisses.

❥ Holding hands when you walk together.

❥ He will fix anything for you. He basically refuses to ever let you hire a maintenance man because he claims he can do it.

❥ Thinks about what you like when he buys groceries.

"Since when did any of us like Pringles, Darry?" Pony asked with a face of pure confusion. Darry grabbed the can of salty crisps from his hand "Y/n likes them, tell the rest of the boys not to eat them either" Pony nodded to his older brother, smiling at the fact that he cares enough about you to do that.

❥ Random slow dancing when you guys get bored. It seems cheesy to others but it makes you guys feel like the only people in the room.

❥ Him randomly picking you up just because he can.

❥ You running your hands along his abs under his shirt when you guys sit together.

❥ You two always making sure Johnny is safe and taken care of.

❥ Him promising that he will put a ring on your finger one day.

✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。

❥ He loves any physical marks on you both. Hickeys, bite marks, bruises, scratches make him go crazy.

❥ He loves how much bigger he is so he can bend and take you how he needs to easily.

❥ Is strong enough to keep/hold your hips down while he eats you out and overstimulates you.

“Im gonna cum!” I panted out for the second time tonight. My hips bucked up into Darrys face again, as continued too suck my throbbing clit through my high. Two hands snaked around my thighs, making he secure as he continued. “Give me a couple more, hon”

❥ Will not cum until you have at-least once because he puts you first.

❥ Takes his stress out in the best ways, the bedroom

❥ Burys his face in your neck and moans when he cums.

❥ Grabs your chin to force eye contact when you can't look at him.

"Look at me, baby." Darrys fingers were thrusting in and out of your pussy. Your head was over his shoulder and tucked into his neck, trying not moan out loudly. "Please-" your words were cut off when you felt his hand on your chin, making you look him. "You look so pretty like this. Keep looking at me, just like that." His words made you whimper, grinding into his thick fingers.

❥ Loves to cum on your ass after taking you from behind.

❥ He will whimper while getting head from you.

❥ Holds your hips and bounces you up-down when you get tired when riding him.

"Fuck, Darry!" you panted out, grinding your hips down on him. "Im tired, Dar" your movements came to a halt as you tried to catch your breath. "I gotchu, hon. I always do." His large hands came to your hips and slowly moved you up and down on his cock. "Faster please" you moaned out as your hands came down to steady yourself. "There you go, baby. Such a good girl for me"

✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。

#darry curtis #darry curtis x reader smut #darry curtis x reader #darry #darrel curtis #the outsiders #johnny cade #ponyboy curtis #steve randle #sodapop curtis #two bit mathews #dallas winston #the outsiders 1983 #the outsiders smut #the outsiders fluff #the outsiders preferences #the outsiders x reader #the outsiders headcanons

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mimiiiiiiiiisstuff · 3 days ago

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"HOT TO GO"

i'm in no way sexualizing minors and i won't write smut, this is just part of my fictional story!

ok i know i said i was gonna sleep but i had another idea! im thinking of like a hyper-sexual reader. like a literal addict. a reader who, after finding out about her powers, needs an outlet. reader who loses her virginity in a skatepark and ends up with bruises and scratches on her knees that heal as quickly as they got there. she's only about 15 and 7 months when she first does it and now she can't stop. with her new powers, she became beautiful, the kind of girl people stop and stare at. the girl people would die for. sex became her way of getting the love that was denied to her all these years, a way to take control. it became her outlet, the only time she really felt good. she hooks up with boys from school, college guys, but as time goes by she starts having a thing for inapropriate older men. all consensually, of course though beauty can be a curse sometimes and some men don't know that no means no. by the time she's 16 and the batfam notices her, she doesn't really want that kind of love anymore. of course the batfam can't give her what she wants and immediately puts a stop to it. and yeah it works for a couple of days, until the batboys' friends start coming around and paying attention to the babybat.

ok now im going to sleep! see yall tmrw! keep commenting and sending asks!!!

#yandere jason todd #yandere tim drake #yandere batman #yandere dc #yandere x reader #yandere damian wayne #yandere batfam #yandere bruce wayne #yandere bruce wayne x reader

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mournings-stars · 10 months ago

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Hey !!

How about writing romantic head-cannons with the hazbin hotel cast where the reader (could be AFAB) and has catlike features but also has a cat like personality?? (Like the reader is grumpy , tired , always frowning etc)

Obviously take your time , but hopefully this request will reach you well :33

catlike!reader x hazbin cast

anon u literally read my mind i was just sitting down to write something like this so i got u (charlie and vaggie can go together but i made them separate) also im including angel so reader is not fem but they can still be afab if u want — also also, i only included the actual hotel cast, so if you want more characters lmk!!

charlie

you know those cats that hate everyone except one person, that would be you with charlie

charlie won’t bother you or pester you about waking up for activities because you’ll just come when you can, and once you do you’re very engaged (only because it’s her)

as soon as you lie across her lap she makes sure she does not move 1. because you’re warm and she loves cuddling with you and 2. because if you got up and made a face at her before going to sit somewhere else she’d be devastated

she knows just where to scratch, massage, and pet you to get you to fall asleep or relax — she’s put very special attention into memorizing these things and literally everything else about you

vaggie

you can be grumpy together (mostly with alastor, she values your grumpy support when it comes to the radio demon)

vaggie loves to cuddle — if you come to sit behind her legs or between them she could stay like that for hours or just fall asleep

you tend to sleep in with her, 1. because she, like charlie, would rather be still for hours than have you grumpy and moving away from her, and 2. she could use some relaxing time with you before having to work

she can’t keep up with your naps, but she will pause what she’s doing to give you a little kiss on the forehead so she can snap a picture of you stretching and curling back up

husker

husk is already a little cat like (he’s literally a cat) so yall either get along great or you’re arguing all the time then sleep together (yk those cats that are hissing and growling and shit then cuddle while they sleep… yeah)

he lets you sit on the bar, but only because if he told you to get down you’d start knocking things off the counter “accidentally”

whenever he sits on the couch, if you’re not already asleep, you’re quick to sit next to him and lie on his lap. he might grumble a little, but he’s definitely running his hands over your hair and listening to you pur as you fall sleep

loves bedtime — as soon as you’re in either of your rooms, the first thing you’re doing is cuddling up and he might not admit it to anyone, but it’s his favorite part of the day

alastor

you know those cats that, no matter how much you move, they just won’t get off of you? thats you with al

he reluctantly lets you lie on him, but in the same way he lets niffty climb all over him, he’s not going to stop you. especially because he doesn’t mind how warm you are. not that he’d say it, but he does find you lying on him very comfortable after a long day and will definitely use it as an excuse as to why he can’t get up to do whatever someone is asking for

“can’t you see i’m needed elsewhere?” “i’m very busy at the moment!” and he’s just drinking coffee, reading the paper, and sitting with your head on his lap

when you’re alone, he’ll tell you that you’re welcome to lie on his lap “if you truly need to rest”

don’t get grumpy with him though, he’ll get up every time you come to sit with him

angel dust

don’t put it past him, he will carry you around if you’ve been lying on him and he needs to get up because 1. there’s no way he’s waking you up and 2. he’s not about to have you be grumpy that he moved (though there is a chance you’ll be grumpy that he moved you, but at least you’re still warm)

loves cuddling, but his favorite thing is making you purr by massaging your ears out scratching your head while you’re lying on him — and he absolutely loves when you lie on him

yes sitting on the couch is nice, but once he’s lying in his room and you come in and lie on his chest, he’s the happiest he’s ever been. especially after a long day at the studio

if he has to leave while you’re asleep, he’ll leave you food that probably won’t get eating until he comes back and wakes you up by moving your cushion slightly, making you all pouty — which he finds absolutely adorable

he can’t take any pouty/frowning/grumpiness from your seriously when it’s so adorable

sir pentious

you definitely have a bit of similarities when it comes to finding warm spots to relax in, and that probably led to you relaxing together because you refused to move, and he needed to be warm (that’s when he found out he actually enjoyed your company)

as quickly as he let’s you into his workspace, he kicks you out because you just keep knocking shit over, but then he let’s you back in cause you’ll just sit outside the door and sneak back in when he leaves momentarily

once he figures out how to get something warm in his workspace that you’ll just sleep on, he’s happy to have you there. especially because he finds you adorable

he probably stops working to sit with you, or kiss your head, or just wake you up because he does kind of miss you knocking things over even though he can’t stand it

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eunandonly · 1 month ago

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under the mistletoe: strings attached !

୨୧ ; a dance major and a musician? yeah no way, at least, not in this university!

pairing! dancemajor!jungwon x violinmajor!reader | wc. 0.8k | warnings: kind of rushed IM SO SORRY and my thoughts were so disorganised ㅠㅠ EN-

🖇️ : jungwon’s uni fic is finally here ~ it’s kind of christmas themed since ONLY TEN DAYS TILL CHRISTMAS

so you and jungwon attend the same prestigious arts university

there’s multiple different departments: dance, theatre, art, music etc

jungwon is in the dance department and he’s CRAZY GOOD everyone knows him

if there’s a dance festival or event coming up you just KNOW that he’ll be centre with the most killing parts

you are a music major and you play the violin

the violin was the first thing you held in your hands as a kid

like as soon as you gained a consciousness your parents handed you a 1/32 violin to play on

jungwon just really really really hates the music majors

he thinks you guys are all arrogant who think anything that’s not music is unworthy

no because why did that flute major look at him like he’s a carton of milk that went bad

you don’t like the dance majors either

most of them have strange personalities and look half starved

ANYWAYS jungwon has to admit

you’re good at what you do

you’re first chair violin in orchestra FOR A REASON

there’s a reason why the professors give you the solos EVERY SINGLE TIME

there’s also a reason why you sweep up ALL THE AWARDS at competitions

but that doesn’t mean jungwon has to like you

well you don’t really like him either he’s always hogging up the dance practice rooms when you need to go there for the mirror (your professor keeps telling you to improve your posture)

girl why is he practicing at 4am gtfo

so it’s yet another annual christmas festival

you got the solo for winter by vivaldi

are we surprised? no.

jungwon got the centre role and the killing part for his dance performance.

are we surprised? also no.

yeah but we are surprised about the music and dance department collaborating

jungwon started feeling queasy just from the news

wdym a few selected music majors are going to form a chamber orchestra to play the music for his dance for the festival

of course you’re the first violin in that as well the world just loves torturing jungwon

so yall meet up together in the bigass dance practice room for rehearsal

let me tell you: jungwon does not like how the cello is leaving scratches in the dance practice room floor

get that flipping endpin OFF the precious wooden floors

rehearsal is already off to a bad start

also jungwon started genuinely tweaking after a guy broke his rosin and it went on the floor

he was about to throw hands before you suddenly apologised

“oh, sorry about that. me and the guy will clean that up asap.”

maybe you’re not that bad after all

jungwon’s hatred and passive aggressiveness towards ou slowly fades over the month of rehearsals

instead of bickering you were starting to notice how well he dances like DAMN that line really clean

and jungwon keeps noticing how your violin playing is so good how you doing that shit

you also notice that jungwon’s looking kind of fine HMMMM

but you just tell yourself to ignore that there’s no way you’re crushing on a dance major

atp you’re just gaslighting yourself you stay back until like 2am claiming you need to “practice” (you just want to watch jungwon dance)

you guys still argue everyday though jungwon is so annoying

it’s really giving “i hate you but wait you kinda fire” vibes

christmas eve finally approaches

and since it’s a nice fancy event everyone is dressed up nicely

you see jungwon in the morning for rehearsal HOLY SHIT HE LOOKS SO GOOD

you get really flustered and jungwon finds you so cute

you're blushing as you talk to him and jungwon just stares at you the whole time

jungwon may seem nonchalant outside but he’s screaming inside about how pretty you look in your black dress

your winter solo absolutely devoured

jungwon filmed the whole thing on his camcorder that was just too good

and your performance together with jungwon was also so good

JUNGWON’S DANCING *faints*

after the performance you just watch the twelfth night performed by the theatre majors and the philosophy student do yet another dry reading of some boring book

there’s also a little late christmas dinner going on that jungwon and you go to together

you two go from bickering to a giggling mess after a few glasses of champagne

jungwon takes you to see the giant christmas tree afterwards

he gives you his coat because he’s a gentleman and you’re freezing in the december snow in your dress

im just here imagining you two staring at the tree as it snows and jungwon suddenly says

“oh look, we’re under a mistletoe. you know what this means, right?”

you panic so hard for a second oml

your heart is beating SO FAST (flight of the bumblebee.?) but you can't let him know that

you just scoff “we are not going to kiss-“

jungwon just shuts you up with a sweet little kiss

you’re not complaining you only protested to protect your dignity after hating on him for two years straight

✉️ : @icyy-hoon

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the-winter-spider · 8 months ago

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Good Guy | S.H

Word count: 1k

Warnings: None? Angst?

A/N: Yall i havent posted in ages, im still very much active reading everyone elses writings buuut im deciding to go thru and post everything i have in my docs, maybe finally fix my master list 💀🤭 we’ll see! Enjoy

—

You were sitting on the edge of his bed, your legs dangling over as you turned to look over your shoulder at him snoring peacefully while you were holding your breath trying to savour this moment before the reality of what happened last night crushed you.

You knew what it was, it was ‘the world is most likely ending and the girl ive been in love with since high school still doesn’t love me back’ sex. Because there was no logical way Steve had feelings for you of any sort that would make him want to tear your clothes off and litter your bruised and scarred body with such tender kisses, whispering the sweetest of words in your ear, then proceed to hold you in his arms while he falls asleep.

There was no way in any world upside right or down that it was anything more than that.

You sighed, finally pushing yourself off the bed, tip-toeing around his room to gather the pieces of your clothing, ushering as quickly and quietly to his bathroom as you could. You wanted to avoid the mirror so bad, you were disgusted with yourself, not for sleeping with him, no but for letting your self think for a mere second that it was anything but sex to him. In all honesty it was probably just an itch he wanted to scratch, you were probably just a flavour of ice cream he was lingering on for a while something no one else in their right mind would pick but once you’ve tried all the other flavours you were the only one left.

Pathetic. That's all you were, you slipped off his boxers letting your tears hit the ground with them. The cotton fabric catches your salty waters as they hit the tile.

“Stupid, stupid, stupid” you whispered to yourself pulling on own clothes, before sliding out of his room and house.

The morning spring air hit you refreshingly as you closed your eyes, stopping to gather your thoughts for a brief moment, steadying yourself and the whirlwind of emotions going through your head.

You knew you had to hurry home and change to be ready to meet at the Wheeler's house for 9:00am sharp to discuss your next moves with Vecna, and arriving with Steve while you were still in yesterday’s clothes would raise suspicion, questions and leave you open for friendly banter and teasing but more importantly you didnt wanna still be at Steve’s house when he woke up, you couldn't handle seeing the pure regret in his eyes, the shame that would be radiating off of him, surely that would be your tipping point.

You looked at your watch, 9:00AM “Shit” you mumbled, downing the rest of your coffee like it was a shot at a party, you quickly tied the laces on your converse before running across the street to the Wheelers.

You let out a huff of hair, running your hand through your hair before knocking, the door whipped open revealing Robin “Oh! I'm so glad to see you” She grabbed your arm, yanking you inside, “We've been here all but maybe 10 minutes and everyone is already arguing” She threw her hands up “Can you believe that? it's too early for this!” You reached the door to the basement as Robin loudly started troting down “Y/n is finally here!”

You reached the bottom of the stairs giving a small wave and smile looking everywhere but the brown haired boy in the corner whose eyes you could feel piercing into you “Hi” your voice quiet before manurving your way to the side, far away from Steve.

You were sitting legs crossed on the wheelers couch, you could hear a buzzing surrounding you, squeezing your eyes shut, rubbing your temples you weren’t sure if at this point if it was the headache you’ve been nursing for a few days, the lack of sleep, or all the tears you cried this morning in Steve’s bathroom. All the voices of your friends overlapping one another mushing into a single sound.

tick, tick, tick, tick

“So we now know Max is one of Vecna’s targets, we just have to.…” Nancy spoke her voice trailing off as you tuned it out. Their chatter immersed into one inconvenient noise to you, the pounding in your head overpowering the conversation no one cared that you weren't taking part in. Even though you have always been more of a listener, never giving suggestions because someone always had a better one. You were just here to do as you were told and make sure no one else got hurt because they all had families, parents, people who loved them, you didn’t. And if one of your dumb ideas led to the possibility of one of them getting hurt or worse ending up dead, you would never be able to forgive yourself, so you stayed out of it.

You found picking at your pant leg was a better distraction, wasting all the energy you had on making the hole in your pants bigger than it already was, revealing a scar on your knee that you obtained last year running from russians, when for a brief moment the buzzing stopped and your sense zeroed in on the trickling cool wetness you felt on your upper lip and your eyes growing wide as you watched a single droplet of blood land on your jeans.

You moved your hand to catch the rest of the droplets when you looked up your eyes met Max’s, her eyebrows raised in shock before they softened as she watched a tear run down your cheek “Guys” she spoke, her voice could barely be heard over Steve arguing with Nancy that he didn’t want to be a babysitter anymore “GUYS!” she screamed even louder as all eyes turned to her

Steve and Nancy both turned their heads to her yelling “What?!”

Max lifted up her hand, directing her finger to point directly at you, suddenly one by one all pairs of eyes turned to you

“Holy shit” Dustin muttered “Holy shit!” He got louder as he pieced it together.

“No” Steve froze “No, no, no” He was panicking suddenly the room felt heavy, the air was leaving his lungs as he watched blood dripping from your nose.

#steve harrington angst #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington blurb #steve harrington one shot #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fic #steve harrington #stranger things fanfiction #steve harrington x reader angst

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rockstvrdotcom · 2 years ago

Note

It's 💅anon again!!!!

Can you pls do a s/o who like to bite or mark their partner/mate a lot??? (NSFW or SFW all fine)

With EJ, Masky and Hoodie pls 🥺🥺🥺

ej, masky, and hoodie with a s/o that likes to bite

ej, masky, hoodie x reader (nsfw but mostly sfw in there)

HI NONNIEEE!! the first work u asked for is otw!! i just decided to post this one first because the other is longer lol

tw/cw: marking/biting (duhhh), nsfw, guys theres gore in the photos so beware, fem reader, mentions of blood, scratching, cigarette burns on skin/clothes, spanking, slapping, slight somnophilia kink

EYELESS JACK

you like to mark him:

at first he was reluctant, he thought his skin was already ruined enough at it was. you assured him that it's fine, and that he's the most handsome boy you've ever laid your eyes on. (you both cringed at that but he lowk loved it cos hes canonically insecure abt his skin)

once you did it the first time.. this man could not get enough. literally begged you to do it over and over again. he's obsessed with it. you almost got tired of it (you could never tho)

loves when you leave little kitten licks on the mark; he loves the feeling so much like he could just eat you

loves when your on top of him as you give him hickeys— especially when your sitting on top of him and your hips are grinding against his.

lets out really silent whimpers as you mark him, so silent you don't even hear them most of the time. but when you're near his throat, you can faintly hear them.

gets hard so easily from you biting/marking him.

obsessed with when you have lipstick on and leave little lipstick stains on his cheeks or really any part of his body.

...loves when you mark him near the base of his cock— whether its lipstick stains or his hickeys. he just loves seeing the marks as he jerks off when your not around him. (yall im going to hell)

he likes to mark you:

after he begins to mark you he does not stop. sucks on the skin until its a dark purple/green.

sometimes he even likes to bite through the skin and lick up the blood— if you're okay with it of course.

gets really turned on when you let him break skin, usually ends up in him bending you over the nearest surface and fucking you silly. the blood gets him so riled up.

whenever you both are not busy he constantly has his teeth in your neck; not all the time but often. sometimes he'll just sneak up behind you and take a bite like you're some sort of snack.

he likes to mark you around your collarbone and neck; makes you wear v necks around the mansion so people can see the piece of art he created on your neck.

he was really gentle with it at first— asking you if it hurt or if you were ok. he has a higher pain tolerance than normal he has a hard time knowing the limits, but when you tell him it's ok and tell him you want more? he just can't help himself.

if he's marking you and you both have nothing to do it usually always ends up in him dicking you down. this mans sex drive is HIGH

asks you to sit on his lap any chance he gets and let him mark you.

guys this man is just so obsessed with marking— gn.

MASKY

you like to mark him:

masky n tim are very different.. tim is such a sweetie pie but masky is a whole 'nother thing. but lets talk about masky

this man.. he's so down bad for you marking him like the second you asked he started rushing you to come over here and start sucking on his neck.

all that and he still won't ever take off his mask— but maybe he'll lift it just enough for you to leave lipstick stains and hickeys down his jawline.

i don't even know whether he prefers the lipstick stains or hickeys. he loves when you break skin though, he's just so into it and it gets him so hot n sweaty.

also obsessed with the way you leave scratch marks down his back when he pounds into you, likes looking at them in the mirror and how they burn in the shower

when you're leaving marks around his neck you can really smell the earthy/woody scent he has.. and a faint smell of cigarettes' on him.

likes when you mark him as hes smoking a cig; two of his favorite things at the same time? sign him up

has to have some sort of grip on your thighs while you mark him, he's obsessed with your thighs.

it js makes him so horny when you have your teeth sunken down into his skin.

wants you to leave lipstick stains on the collar of his shirt or hoodie.. idk man he js loves it.

he likes to mark you

oh boy

he lifts up his mask just enough so he can bite you and taste your skin.

thighs. leaves scratches, bites, kisses all over your thighs. he just can't stop man.

begs you to let him mark you all the time, even though it lowk humiliates him.

"please, pretty. i wan' everyone to know your mine."

leaves scratch marks all over your ass and back, idk he's just obsessed with it.

the whole marking thing rlly plays into his obsession with letting everybody know your his. he's really possesive.

this one might be a lil.. yk. but if you're okay with it and let him, he likes to leave cigarette burns on your thighs. something about stubbing out a cigarette 0n you just does something to him. or he likes leaving cigarette burns on your clothes that you don't mind being ruined.

the way he marks you is just so diverse, you don't know whats next, a bite or??

also likes to spank you or js see your ass red.. seeing the pretty light red shade on your ass does something to him. when you guys are fucking he'll grip/spank your ass hard, he likes seeing his hand prints on your ass.

HOODIE

you like to mark him

when it comes to marking, hoodie and brian are relatively similar but hoodies way more kinky w/ it.

hoodie does not hesitate to do it in public. begs you to mark him all over while you guys are in the middle of nowhere with a bunch of people around.

wants you to leave them in the most noticeable places like his neck and jaw.

he just wants you all over him honestly. he wants you ontop of him littering his chest with kisses and hickies. hes so obsessed with you marking him and you can smell the strong but faint smell of cologne on him (idk how that works dont ask me)

looks down his shirt randomly just to see the marks you left on him.

every time he sees one fading he asks you to do it again.

just like ej he likes when you leave marks near the base of his dick, it just adds to the pleasure when the forming hickey is throbbing while you're sucking him off.

he likes to mark you

doesn't stop once he starts.

hes kinda a sadist tbh

doesn't do anything like cigarette burns like masky. but likes to take a smoke while you mark him. he doesn't smoke often though.

hickeys and lipstick stains are his favorite. slapping you and seeing the red slowly creep onto your face tops all of that + bruises aswell.

doesn't slap you just to inflict pain; surprisingly. he just wants to see the red marks on your pretty 'lil face

takes pictures of the marks he left on you with his camera and jerks off to them later.

praises you but also degrades you at the same time as he marks you.

"fuck, you're my cute lil' slut aren't you? so adorable with my hickeys all over her."

grips at your thighs hard while you guys are fucking; hard enough to leave dark bruises. he admires then while you sit on his lap later on.

speaking of sitting on his lap,, he loves when you're sitting ontop of him or you're on your knees infront of him as he lightly slaps you on the face, just enough to leave his handprint.

also likes spanking your ass and leaving bruises on it

squeezes your ass later to hear you wince in slight pain.

marks you while your sleeping and likes to see your reaction when you wake up

kisses the marks he leaves on you

#smut #marble hornets #marble hornets smut #eyeless jack smut #hoodie smut #masky smut #masky x reader #eyeless jack x reader #hoodie x reader #creepypasta #creepypasta smut #masky #eyeless jack

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lixies-favorite-cookie · 6 months ago

Text

an ocean in a world full of puddles ◦ Chapter 1

-After being brushed off by Chan once again, you are stuck waiting in the lounge room for him to arrive. What are you going to do when it isn't Chan that arrives, but instead Felix? And it feels like you've known him for years."

words ◦ 5k

genre ◦ series, angst, fluff, the beginning of a wild ride

warnings ◦ chan is painted in sort of a negative light because he is always busy, felix is sort of shy around you at first, but lowkey flirty near the end as he starts to get more comfertable, theres a lot of fucks in this, i keep calling yall im dumb im sorry, fem!reader, felix calls her a lady once,

a/n ◦ The strikeouts are intentional to show how chaotic the reader's mind is and how she feels like her emotions are so invalid she has to just erase them away. I'm sorry if this isn't what you expected. I found myself struggling to describe certain aspects of this and was quite disappointed by the outcome (but please do not let this deter you. If anything, read it and let me know what you think/what I can change. Plus, I know the other parts are going to be way better than this).

also i listened to heather while writing this up until the phone number bit... then i listened to slow down by chase atlantic...do with that information as you will

A VERY VERY SPECAIL THANK YOU TO THESE BEAUTIFUL PEOPLE that helped me through the different struggles and stages in this fic I thank most of my unnecessary errors being fixed because of them @yongbun, @jeonginsleftcheek, @luvtak

masterlist ◦ a loved lived in between the stars and the sea

The human condition: a soul filled with passion, but not a mouth to spill it into.

It was ironic really.

Your soul was filled with passion, but you had a mouth to spill it into.

That mouth just didn't want your passion-

Your fervor-

Your ardor-

Romance practically coursed through your veins, your blood cells shaped like the hearts you saw the world through.

Chan was filled with passion.

Chan was filled with ardor.

Chan was filled with romance.

But Chan didn't want poetry-

Chan spilled too much soul into songs.

Songs that made him too busy for you.

The two of you saw the same goal, but spoke different languages-

Your love was often-

Lost in translation.

You shout, frustration poking in the pit of your stomach painting the car red you dig the pencil into the words scratching them out so hard you cut holes in the page that sounded so stupid

all of this was so stupid

your feelings-

stupid

your issues-

stupid

the thought that Chan was anything other than perfect-

stupid

Why couldn't you just be content with everything you have? So many girls would pay to be in your place, tripping over each other just to be in his presence, and yet, what, you're unhappy because you spoke different languages?

What the hell does that even mean?

You were trapped inside an inescapable box, the sharp edges of your unrealistic expectations like shackles that cut into your skin, bleeding with a passion only ever found in fiction.

Why were you always stuck?

stuck in the stars, stuck in the sea-

stuck in this stupid line of stupid traffic, waiting for a stupid meal that Chan probably will be too busy to eat with you, writing some stupid piece of poetry that was about as poetic as the rotting innards of unidentified roadkill.

stupid

“Finally,” you mumble as the car in front of you inches up, allowing you access to the next window. You politely bow, grab the trays from the worker’s hand, and drive off.

Your life quickly turned from the hope of a story to the reality of a routine. The road, the walls, the button your finger grazes as the doors to the elevator slam shut, the number of steps it takes to get to his room, the feel of cold metal underneath your palm as you open the door, the same hunch of his shoulders, the same glow of his laptop, the same empty look in his eyes.

the same

Most of your relationship is spent looking at him like this.

"Hey channie," you say, setting the food down on the empty spot beside his keyboard.

"Hi, love." His voice is nothing more than the ghost of a mumble, blending with the click and shift of his mouse, moving different blurs and blobs of color on the screen. Chan tended to get tunnel vision when he was working, even if that meant you were left stranded in the shadows of his forgotten responsibilities.

"I um brought you dinner." you clear your throat, pointing lamely at the boxes beside him like he couldn't clearly see they were there. He perks up, finally lifting his eyes to meet yours.

"Oh baby, thank you." The tension in his shoulders melts. "I'm sorry, you know how busy I am sometimes; right now it feels like I'm drowning in work," he chuckles, absentmindedly shifting in his chair.

you're always busy

You push a smile through the tangled ball of suppressed emotions climbing up your throat.

"I know you're busy, but do you think I could eat dinner with you today...please?" Your stomach twists in painful knots. It was pathetic really, the way you begged for attention like a needy dog more than a doting girlfriend, but you were desperate, scrambling to fan a flickering flame that felt long sputtered out.

stop

You knew what you were getting into when he asked you out—the stress, the anxiety, the workload, the long hours. Chan was always upfront and honest about the struggles of being an idols girlfriend, never wanting to veil your eyes from the harsh sting of realities rays.

then why does it still feel like your soul is burning?

He flicks his gaze to the screen, guilt gnawing at his core. There was so much to do in the day and just never enough time to do it. "I don't know, I don't really have a lot of time right now..." He mumbles, picking at the seam on his shorts apologetically, "Do you think you could wait about 20 minutes? I'm kind of on a roll here."

When your relationship was first blooming, your spirit would often shatter with those words, but pain only holds power when it isn't welcome, and as long as you are loved by him, you will accept the feeling with open arms.

"I'm going to go sit in the lounge room then." You try to keep the disappointment out of your tone, but it leaks through the cracks echoing in your chest, radiating in palpable waves. You clench your jaw, picking up your tray of food.

does he not care?

"Okay," The squeak of his chair indifferently swiveling back to its previous place echoes in your ears. Louder than anything you've ever heard.

he didn't even kiss you

1 hour 45 minutes and 13 seconds

That's how long you have been waiting in the lounge room for Chan to walk in the door.

that is how long you've been wallowing in a sad pathetic heap staring at your uneating supper

1 hour 45 minutes and 15 seconds now

16 seconds

17 seconds

You spin around when you hear the door creak open, anticipation fluttering in your stomach, only to plummet when you see Felix standing in the entrance, too busy shoveling a fork full of noodles in his mouth to notice your presence.

Felix was a familiar face, mostly associated with sweet smiles and bouncing eyes; you have only ever talked to him on a handful of occasions, possessing the basic relationship of hellos in the hallways and smiles when you enter the same room, but besides the couple times where he offered you some of his freshly baked brownies or told you which room Chan was in, you haven't actually had a conversation with the boy.

You groan, dramatically deflating in your seat.

Of course, it wasn't chan

Felix yelps, his heart leaping in his chest, only to wrap around his bones, doing trapeze tricks inside his ribs when he lays eyes on you—why, out of all the days he could have seen you, it was on the one day he was least ready, and the way your whole body slumps like a deflated balloon, it becomes crystal clear you weren't exactly jumping up and down to see him either.

Does Cupid have a vendetta against him or something?

"Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't know anybody was in here," he stutters awkwardly, running his fingers through his hair like he was trying to fix it without a mirror. Disappointment quickly brews into guilt watching the way his eyes shift, hurt drooping his shoulders down.

"No, I'm sorry, it's not like that; I just thought—" You falter. What the hell did you think? Sorry, but I thought you were my boyfriend who left me here all by myself, and like usual, my stupid, hopeful heart really believed this time was going to be different. "You were someone different." You sink into the couch, a dull ache spiderwebbing through the chasms in your chest.

"Let me guess." His eyes crinkle with sympathy. "Chan."

You glance down at your ribs—some silly part of you really believed your shirt had blossomed with the crimson stain of your sorrows.

"How could you guess?" you mutter sarcastically, picking at the skin of your nails. Why did it seem like everybody else got the memo that if you were to search the thesaurus, your name would be the first word under forgotten?

"Well, really, it was a toss-up between you being with him for the past 5 years and the fact that he has been glued to his computer for the past 5 hours," he grins. "Pick your poison."

Your gaze drifts back to the couch that sits idly in front of you, lonely in the middle of the room, out of place, without the implant of another person's body.

"W-Well," he starts, shifting his bowl in his hands. "Do you... I don't know, want some company...maybe."

He's so awkward, so unsure, like a baby deer wobbling on unfamiliar legs, struggling to stay upright. You tilt your head, your lips pulling up into an adoring grin; you never really noticed it before, but he was sort of shy. You had a terrible tendency to take your time observing people unintentionally, causing discomfort to the victims of your restless brain—assessing in silence.

His ears burn when your eyes gloss over with an opaque glaze. His heart drops only for those silly little butterflies that always appear when you are around to swarm their wings around the lump growing in his throat.

Well, that was a bust.

Why couldn't he just be normal around you?

"O-Or not, that's fine too. I-I get it; you're probably l-like waiting for Chan or whatever. I-I can go get him if you would like." He jerks his thumb behind him, forgetting he was holding something for a second, stumbling to catch it right before it falls. You snicker, biting your lips to contain your laughter. His eyes flutter shut, scrunching his nose in embarrassment.

He was cute

Why haven't you talked to him before?

"No, please sit down," you lazily gesture to the couch in front of you. "It's not like Chan's going to be coming down anytime soon."

He sighs, his whole body melting with relief, practically forming into the couch when he shuffles over, adjusting himself to comfortably sit with his legs wide and his head tilted down. He picks up his fork just before whispering, "I'm sorry that he kept you waiting," and stuffing his face. You smile, the sight all sorts of endearing. The amount of food stuffed into his cheeks puffs them out, forcing his mouth into a pout that's smeared with red sauce. For a moment, you almost forget that you're supposed to be groveling, but why would life want to let you live when instead it could remind you constantly how much it sucks?

"I'm used to it." You learn to live with the absence of air when your hope always causes you to suffocate.

"You shouldn't have to be," he murmurs, his hand politely veiling his mouth while he chews. He's staring at his food like his noodles were an impossible labyrinth he's forced to escape, completely oblivious to the cataclysmic sentence he just uttered. Your jaw drops, stomach fluttering with butterflies, butterflies that you could’ve sworn burned out a long time ago. When most of your time is spent in a constant state of apocalypse, you forget the side effects of a romanticism, felt before your soul was littered with the echos of war.

"Oh?"

"Are you not going to eat?" He questions, forehead creased with concern as he gestures to the food that was currently burning a hole in the table. You stare at him stupidly, mouth ever so slightly agape. Did he not notice that there were swarms of zombified insects burrowing their way into your belly, kaleidoscopes charred wings creating panic in your pounding heart?

(cookie interruptions: I was today years old when I found out that a kaleidoscope was the technical term for a swarm of butterflies)

Why was he making you feel so jittery?

"Oh," you blink, giving an imperceptible shake of the head—a weak attempt to gather your disoriented thoughts.

Honestly, you had forgotten it was there.

"I was waiting to eat with Chan..." You mutter through the tufts of wool still stuffed in your head, wrapping your fingers around the tray, but when you pull open its flappy lid, your lips pull into a sneer glaring at the congealed sauce and cold noodles. You weren't surprised that your food had spoiled over the 2 hours you had been waiting, but it didn't make the frustration that bubbled in your gut any less apparent either. "But clearly, that hope was shortlived," you scoff, chucking the useless tray back on the table.

Felix clears his throat, adjusting himself in his seat. He often found himself tiptoeing on the edge of insanity, always rewriting the words he wanted to say, terrified you had written a line in the sand the waves had washed away.

You were a star with a heart tied to the sea, where he would have more success breaking the bond of the moon than turning the tides of the ocean that suffocated your soul.

So for now, he will coast the cosmos alone, waiting for the day you will finally look his way.

"You can have some of mine... if you want," he whispers, shyly scooting his cup over to you. "It's salmon-flavored; it's really good."

"Are you sure?" you blink, utterly flummoxed.

"Yeah, of course!" You swore you could trace the stories of the sky in the gaps where his freckles glowed.

"Thank you; I promise I won't eat too much," you joke, pulling out your fork. "I don't mind it, really. I can always make more as long as you're eating I'm okay," he grins, sliding his hand out of the way to allow room for yours, grateful for his generosity; you bite back a smile, digging into the hot noodles; a spicy flavor pulled straight from the sea explodes on your tongue as soon as the food meets your lips.

You swear you just tasted heaven's gates.

"Holy shit, this is delicious," you moan, rolling your eyes back in your head.

"I'm glad you like it," he smirks. "It's my special recipe."

"So you do more than bake, huh?" you waggle your brows lightheartedly, though you were sort of impressed by his broad palette of skills.

"You know that I bake!?" He was still recovering from the shock that you even knew his name—the way he often dissolves into the wall when you enter the room.

"Of course, I know that you bake; I always have to eat at least half of the plate of brownies Chan brings home." You giggle, picking at the noodles, wanting more but feeling guilty for hogging the whole bowl.

"Oh, I'm full," he stretches, rubbing his stomach like a stuffed cartoon character.

"Are you lying?" Cynism was a side effect of being a creative romanticist—your artistic brain didn't limit itself to only forming one conclusion, while the stories that ended up on paper were solely portrayed as having happy endings—you knew this philosophy was neither sadistic nor realistic, for even if the fictional characters made up of the fluid of your mind betrayed each other, what would a human, evil in its rawest form, do to you?

well that was melodramatic

"You know you're a very skeptical person," he jests, pulling his lips ever so slightly up.

"I'm a hopeless romantic; there's a difference," you state, stuffing your face when you finish studying him down to the very twitch of his right calf muscle.

"Aren't hopeless romantics supposed to be happy-go-lucky all the time? Seeing the world through rose-colored glasses and stuff?"

"You know we are called hopeless for a reason," you snort, unrealistic standards were more of a curse than a blessing.

Scratch that, having unrealistic standards is just a curse

“Being a hopeless romantic is like being an ocean in a world full of puddles.” Your soul speaks like his fingertips have felt its walls a million times before “devastating.”

He stares at you gobsmacked, blinking like you just hit him over the head with a mallet. Your mind kicks into gear, anxious little butterflies flipping on the switch for damage control.

that must have sounded so self-centered

"I-I didn't mean, like, in a cocky way, I'm better than other people. I just meant it's impossible to pour my passion anywhere because everybody else doesn't have room to take it. If anything, I-Im the bad one in this scenario.” You stutter, sporadically shaking your hands, worried that the misconception is going to create a concrete opinion. He quickly waves you off, seeming anything but bothered.

“An ocean in a world full of puddles that's pretty deep,” he implores, treating the words like age-old wine to be sipped with both time and deference. “You know you should really consider being a poet 'cause that like moved my soul.” Only Lee Felix can make humor sound so honest.

Why was he so ...amazed

"I like to think I'm a poet." Your cheeks are painted red as you bashfully tilt your head down.

but right now not so much

“You can't think you're a poet,” he chuckles. “If you ever wanted to read somebody your stuff, I would be happy to help…Maybe it could fix your uncertainty." Something twinkles in his eyes, something nervous yet desperate, something you couldn't quite pinpoint while your stomach was sprinting in circles—the mere thought of showing somebody else your poetry was the equivalent of slicing your heart in half and presenting it to the world on live television.

basically, something that will never happen never ever

"No, no, no, it's nothing like that. I don't really write poetry per se; I just write my..." You trail off.

What do you write?

"You don't have to talk about it if you don't want to," he reassures, his warm smile cooling the icy anxiety that crystallized around your core.

Why do you do this to yourself??

Stupid Felix and his stupid power to loosen your lips-

stupid. stupid. stupid.

To be a poet is to be vulnerable; no great art is ever created comfortably.

Fuck it

“I write my dreams,” you blurt, peeking out through your clenched eyelids to see if Felix caught the spit of a sentence; clearly, he did the way he lifts his brows thoughtfully.

“Elaborate”

A man of many annoying questions you see

“Why,” you groan, sinking into your seat almost comically.

"Because I want to listen to you," he laughs like whiskey and wine, both husky and rich. You choke, your heart imploding into a million tiny, rose-shaped pieces.

"Nobody wants to listen to me ramble on about hopeless fantasies that will never come true," you sputter, still trying to reshape your rose-shaped shatters into something that resembles an organ.

"I do."

Oh well, there they go again, forming right back into roses-

He made all of this seem like a complex game of chess, every move of hesitance quickly countered by a block of honesty.

From the moment you could write, you found out that paper was not volatile the way people were, how you could erase a word written but, in time, in life, you cannot erase a sentence said—that philosophy stuck with you, forever rendering you apprehensive to vocalize your feelings.

Maybe it was your soft spot for the stars that made you speak, but either way, when your mouth opened, it felt as though all your past doubts had washed away, and for once, you were free.

"I have always held onto my dreams through the tip of a pen, existing in between the lines of my poetry. But I don't write about deep philosophical pearls of wisdom; I write about love, passion, beauty. I write about coffee and cream, roses and vanilla. I write what I think romance tastes like, how the contrast of the most iconic confessions has been written in the rain, a usually gloomy, grey thing completely transformed through the lenses of love…" You sigh, tilting your head against the back of the cushion in bliss.

"I write the way I want to love, for I know it's the only way to quell my heart's aching urge to live anywhere but reality."

He stares at you eerily still, blinking once, twice, three times."

Why wasn't he saying anything?

Perhaps you were drunk off Felix's promises, or the cracks Chan created in your chest made you bleed with a passion only ever reserved for your poetry. But either way, you felt naked—exposed under his exploring eyes.

"What?" You croak, picking at the sleeve of your shirt.

Why did everybody act like you were crazy?

Was there something wrong with you?

You are floating in the asteroid belt, a thousand tiny rocks hovering around your head.

"Maybe you're just not looking in the right places." There’s a deep intensity in his eyes, a million roaring waves crashing against each other; you run face-first into a meteor, bouncing around the surfaces of a weightless space.

How many brain-altering revelations could Felix bestow before your brain cracks?

"You know, I haven't even told my friends that," you deflect. It was a dangerous game, diving too deep into your thoughts, and right now, with him—with that statement, danger could quickly bleed into destruction.

"So, I'm not your friend?" Clearly, Felix catches on to the sudden swerve of the conversation, how he eases into it with such grace, jestingly poking your knee.

"This is the first time I've ever had a real conversation with you," you scoff, poking him right back. His jaw drops in faux offense.

"You know, I just gave you my food. I think that deserves an upgrade into friendship territory," he states matter-of-factly.

Two can play at that game-

"I don't have your number; usually friends have each other's number." You place your elbows on your knees. He has been playing a metaphorical game of chess with you this whole time, his pawns moving ever so slightly forward. He forced your hand, the comfortability in your eyes making openings on the board you never meant to create. His rook, his bishop, his queen—they kiss the place right below your king.

You had one more trick up your sleeve-

You were a creative romantic whose moves were nothing less than a story, and you were going to be damned if you let your king be captured.

Now, where's the happy ending in that?

(cookie interruptions… I dont know what this is nor why i am so dramatic but hey what can you do ALSO LISTEN TO SLOW DOWN BY CHASE ATLANTIC I BEGTH OF YOU )

He leans forward, pressing his tongue against his cheek. The fabric of his shirt stretches across the hard ridges of his abs—

No, stop it, bad y/n.

"Do you want it?" He leans his head ever. So. Slightly. Forward

"Maybe I do."

"Maybe I'll give it to you," soft, smooth voice-

you narrow your eyes,

"What will Chan think?"

"It doesn't matter what Chan thinks-"

"Tell that to Chan-"

"Maybe I will." His lips-

"You know, if Chan saw us here right now, he would not be very happy." You suck your teeth.

Check-

He scoffs. Moves his bishop.

You're right back where you started.

"You're not his pet."

"Yeah, but I am his girlfriend." Block.

"Those two words are not synonymous," he says. Moves his queen.

Too many openings, too many moves, too many pieces on the board.

Too many outcomes.

Do you even still want to play?

Weren't you the one who started the game?

You bite your cheek, his eyes burning like molten amber, glinting in the overhead lights.

Should you have really asked for his number?

What would Chan think if he saw it in your phone?

Who were you kidding? He would actually have enough time to look at your phone.

"You know," he leans back, extending his arms to drape across the couch, pushing his thighs ever so slightly apart. Gone is the man with smiles like sugar; determination wisps across his face like spits of fire, overtaking every feature."If I give you my number, I'm going to have to help you unlearn your engraved cynicism." He's closing in on you, moving all his pawns in one fair swoop. You're surrounded, swarmed.

"You can't ungrave something it's scientifically impossible." You shift your king. One last dying breath-

Before-

"I can try."

Checkmate

And like every person of honor does when they have nobly lost a battle they created-

You run away.

“I have to admit, as much as I loved this conversation, I really should be going,” you say, picking up your tray of forgotten food to chuck in the trash, leaving Felix's bowl on the table. He jumps up, scrambling to pick up his mess while you dart out the door, tossing the tray in the can just outside the room.

“Wait,” he gasps, stumbling to catch up with your speed. Your finger, out of habit, moves to press the button to the elevator doors—that is, before he catches it, his warm hand wraps around your wrist.

“Now, what gentleman would I be making a lady get her own door?” He bellows, voice deep and low, a sound echoing through his chest as the fabric of his shirt kisses your back. He’s so close, so close, so—

How long has it been since you've been touched?

Heat. You're drenched in it, painted in it, enveloped in it.

His hand grazes your skin as he slides up your wrist, his finger extending to press the button.

Your breath hitches.

Body shutters.

Every atom erupting in flames.

The elevator doors slam open-

Your brain clicks back into place-

“Will I be seeing you again?” Your hot, so hot. He’s hot, so hot. Breath—it tickles your ear. Disoriented, so disoriented.

“I still don't have your number,” you manage to utter, slipping into the doors. His face will be the final thing you see as you descend down the shaft, lifelessly walking to your car where you will go home, go to sleep, and start your routine all over again. He smirks, flicking his eyes to your pants.

“Yes, you do.”

I do?

The doors inch shut, and a small, teeny-tiny part of you wants to wrench them open, pull him in, force him into the stanzas of your story. You are tired—tired of waiting for your life to begin, tired of repeating the same vicious cycle.

But that wasn't you talking-

That was the hopeless part of your personality,

The unrealistic-

The fiction-

Life wasn't a game and reality wasn't a book.

You had a good thing going wth Chris and you were going to be damned to ruin it just because of one fun conversation.

You reach one finger into the back pocket, feeling around for what Felix could have been talking about.

There's no way.

Your skin brushes across a smooth surface—something that definitely wasn’t there before.

There's no fucking way.

You pull it out.

It's pink and folded and definitely written on. You unfold it.

XXX-XXX-XXXX. Just in case you ever need an editor or a friend.

Oh well, fuck the game. He just flipped over the whole damn chessboard.

Read Chapter 2 here

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vampiricstoryteller · 4 days ago

Text

All Of Your Love

Hey yall, im back with part two of my first Richette fan fic. Here’s a morning after story for yall featuring some important conversations, smut and a guest appearance from Edouard. I hope you all enjoy!

Two things: 1. I know nothing about traveling on boats, so this will not be super accurate in terms of supplies and 2. I like the idea of Richter and Annette using their magic for domestic stuff

Part one is here and this story can be read on A03 here

All mistakes are my own

Warnings: smut, swearing

Richter dreams of Annette.

Even though his subconscious can feel his hands gripping her waist and the soft puff of air she lets out with every breath while she sleeps. He knows she’s in his arms, finally.

But still, he dreams of her.

They’re always pressed close together, swaying to music he either can’t hear or his mind can’t be bothered to create. Annette’s in a pretty lavender dress that bunches at her torso and flows down to her knees. She’s barefoot and so is he, their toes digging into sand though Richter never spots an ocean.

He says something to her, it doesn’t really matter what because her reaction is the same every time. She throws her head back and laughs, happily, beautifully, heartedly; Richter theorizes that in his dreams she’s always laughing because that’s his favorite way to see her.

Happy.

Content.

Being made to laugh by him.

She has begun to occupy his every waking thought, so he isn’t particularly surprised when she starts showing up in his dreams as well. He’s been having the same one, with only slight variations for a while now. And he’s not upset about it in the slightest.

He’s pulled from his latest one by the real Annette shifting closer to him. Richter blinks himself awake slowly, his senses coming in one at a time. And the first thing he sees, is her.

She is the most beautiful woman he’s ever had the privilege of looking at. There was no Queen, Princess, Aristocrat or socialite that came close to the goddess like beauty that radiated from Annette.

If Richter could, he would spend all his time simply staring at her. He’s already committed every detail of her face to his memory and when she cuddles closer to him, her bare breasts pressing to his chest; Richter bites back a groan as the previous nights activities come rushing back to him and his brain wants to commit that to his memory as well.

It’d been his name that Annette whimpered, moaned and screamed out. It was his shoulders and back that she scratched each time he plunged deep inside of her. It’d been his cock that she’d taken so well in her tight, warm—

Richter grunts when all of his blood begins rushing south. He tries to adjust himself, scoot back from her just a tiny bit but Annette snuffles in her sleep and refuses to let him, her lips brushing across his pec and making him shiver. He looks down at her, smiling fondly at the fact that during their sleep the two of them became truly entangled with each other. Their legs are wound together at the calf while his right thigh has nudged its way between hers. Shes no longer clutching at his neck but has instead crooked her arm over his side, her hand splayed in the middle of his back.

Slowly Richter traces his fingers along her skin, she’s soft everywhere he touches. His fingers able to grip, knead and tug at any part of her body; he loves it. He never wants to not be touching her in some capacity again.

Her deep brown skin contrasting with his pale body is now the only thing he ever wants to see and also the sexist one Richter’s ever been blessed to see. He’s very much hoping to see as much of her skin mixing with his as possible between now and when they finally make it to Haiti.

Richter squeezes her hip, his hand trailing a new path to her back. He’d kept her on it for the entirety of their love making last night, not on purpose but he’d been determined to watch her face crumple in pleasure and he craved being able to watch her cum.

Now as his hand smoothes from her lower back up, his fingers meet knotted skin and Richter freezes. It never left his mind that not too long ago, the beautiful woman in his arms had been a slave. She’d been taken from her home, brutalized, dehumanized and almost killed. Of course she would have scars from that time in her life, but for some reason Richter hadn’t thought about how he’d feel when his hands came across them.

He’ll never understand how anyone, especially his fellow pale skins, can hate someone for having dark skin. It doesn’t make sense to him and he will never try to make it make sense.

Richter knows that he can’t even begin to imagine the horrors Annette had to go through to get where she is now. She’s one of the strongest people he’s ever known and probably will ever know, but it’s the things she had to endure to get here that truly worry him.

He’s seen the vile things men do to those they deem beneath them. And he knows that more often than not Annette had been on the receiving end of that violence, but Richter will die before he lets anyone ever lay a hand on her again.

He will kill anyone who even looks at her the wrong way.

She deserves at the very least that much.

“You’re think way too hard.”

Richter blinks, his chin tilting down and he meets Annette’s sleepy gaze. She pulls her hand from his back and places it on his chest, her brows knitting together as she studied his face.

“It’s alright,” she says gently, knowingly. “They don’t hurt anymore, not really.”

Richter bites the inside of his cheek to contain his anger. Shaking his head, he tucks his chin and gently kisses her forehead; letting his lips linger on the skin as he tries to say evenly,

“They shouldn’t have happened in the first place.” His fingers dig into her lower back, just below where the first of what he can guess is many scars starts. “You’re a human being and it fucking infuriates me that people want to hurt you just because of your skin.”

Annette seems momentarily surprised by his words, but she pats his chest in comfort.

“Richter, breathe.”

His nostrils whistle when he excessively pulls in a large amount of air and the tension breaks as Annette dissolves into giggles.

“You’re so dumb.” She snickers, reaching up and tapping the tip of his nose with her finger.

He grins at her, “anything to make you smile.”

Annette rolls her eyes, and Richter knows she thinks he’s joking so he kisses fully on the lips. It startles a surprised sound from her and he slips his tongue inside her mouth immediately, it’s been less than six hours since last he tasted her tongue but Richter knows he can’t go that long without it again.

She pulls back first, the ghost of a laugh on her breath and Richter would chase after her if not for her hands on his chest. She doesn’t even need to apply pressure, he settles back into the pillow their sharing, watching her face as she glances up towards the tiny window on the other side of the room.

“The sun will be up soon, we cannot stay down here all day.” She says, her fingers tapping a contemplative rhythm on his skin. Her bottom lip disappears between her teeth as she stares at the slowly lightening sky.

Richter waits patiently, letting her build up to saying out loud whatever is on her mind. He doesn’t have to wait long because she dismisses whatever she’s thinking about, smiles at him, pats his chest and says,

“Come on. We should wash up, get on some fresh clothes.”

Richter groans, “I’d rather stay here until Edouard comes for us.”

Annette laughs, “let’s not make him go out of his way, besides the sooner we start the day the sooner it will be over and we’ll be back here.”

She kisses him softly then pulls away and sits up.

Richter misses her warmth already and is pretty sure that Annette shivers too as she leans over and gathers their supposed sleeping clothes from the night before.

“I think I saw a basin earlier,” she murmurs, more to herself than him but Richter nods anyways.

He pulls his pants on easily, tying the string that holds them on his hips and watching as Annette quickly pulls her top on and then steps into her skirt.

“I’ll be right back,” she says tilting her head as she surveys him for a moment. “And I’ll bring more aloe; you’re still too warm.”

Richter looks down at himself, he is warm but not so much that he thinks it’ll be a problem much longer. But before he can lift his head and tell her just the basin is fine, Annette is pulling open the door and stepping out.

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

Annette finds that she’s in luck, there are two basins tucked away with some of the other supplies. She holds them under her arm as she travels on the tips of her toes towards Edouard’s room.

She only has to knock twice, she’s seen the hints that in his new form her friend does not require much sleep. He opens the door, his eyes teasing as he lets her in and Annette can’t help but suck her teeth as she passes him.

“Don’t start.”

“Not even good morning?” He chuckles, shutting the door behind her. “Did you have a good night? It would seem so….”

He grins at her as he moves back to his bed, thats still perfectly made, and taps her hip on the way.

Annette looks down, her hem is turned up on itself a bit and there on the skin that stretches across her hip bone are the beginnings of two finger shaped bruises.

She jolts, almost as if she’s been physically shaken; nearly dropping the basins as she yanks the hem to its correct place and effectively covers the evidence of Richter’s passion.

“Shut up,” she huffs, trying to ignore the heat in her cheeks.

Edouard waves a hand, his shoulders still shaking slightly in jest but he says. “I saved some aloe for you, I knew you’d need it.”

But Annette stays where she is, fingers still pressing against her hip. Her friend looks at her curiously, turning his body towards her.

“He says he loves me.”

The silence stretches in Edouard’s cabin for longer than she thought it would and Annette looks up to meet his gaze.

“Did you not already know that?” He asks, genuinely confused.

Her face heats up all over again and Annette sighs in exasperation, “I just didn’t…..I don’t…..it’s irrational to just assume that—.”

“It’s irrational to assume that someone like him would love someone like you?” Edouard asks, a tinge of sadness in his tone.

She bites her lip to keep from confirming that’s exactly what she wants to say. It is irrational and improbable and just plain dangerous for Richter to so freely admit his love for her.

But then again, nothing about the time she has spent hunting vampires has been exactly safe and sane.

“I think, with how far we’ve come, we’re not going to be able to assume that even our personal relationships will be safe in the standard of logic.” Edouard says thoughtfully, getting to his feet and making his way over to the one bag of things he’d brought with him.

As he rummages through his things, he adds remorsefully, “Be thankful he is here to shoulder the weight with you, you are not alone.”

Annette crossed the small cabin, her hand coming to rest over his shoulder. “You aren’t either, Edouard. I’m here with you.”

He nods, finding the small container he was searching for and stands to his full height slowly.

“You are a good friend, Annette.” He says as he turns to her and her hand drops from his shoulder. He presses the aloe into her hand and pats the back gently, “you deserve to be happy, don’t push Richter away.”

She snorts, rolling her eyes. “I doubt he would let me at this point.”

Edouard smiles happily. “Good, anything else on your mind?”

He means it as a parting but Annette glances down again and chews her lip.

“One thing,” she mumbles and Edouard pauses, watching her.

“I…..let him….finish inside of me, I wasn’t thinking and shouldn’t have—.”

One of Edouard’s dark claws hands comes up between them, laughter bubbling up from his mouth. “I’m sure there’s some ingredients around here to make a tonic. I will check.”

“I can do it later today,” Annette tries to protest but he simply shakes his head and begins to guide her to the door.

“It will give me purpose for the day, besides I’m sure the crew would rather work with a human than a night creature.”

He opens the door for her, squeezing her shoulder reassuringly. “The whole ship will be awake soon, go have a few more moments of peace with him. You both deserve it.”

Annette drops her shoulders in a dramatic sigh, but a smile tugs her lips up into a smile.

“Thank you Edouard, really.”

“We’re in this together Annette,” he tells her sincerely before another grin breaks out on his face and he teases, “let’s just keep babies out of the mix for a few years at least, please.”

He laughs at her squawk of surprise and quickly steps back inside to shut the door before she can turn to yell at him.

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

Richter’s not proud to admit it, but he spends most of his time waiting for Annette to return in a panic.

Had he said something wrong?

Was bringing up her scars from enslavement an over step?

Did she regret the previous night with him and didn’t know how to tell him?

She’d been thinking about something so intently for a split second, the crease in her brow replays over and over in his mind as he spirals into a list of reasons Annette could decide that whatever this was between them could only be through the lens of friendship.

He’s just about to get up and go find her, when the door to their room opens again and Annette slips back inside. She’s carrying two empty basins and a small container that assumes more aloe for him.

“Hey,” she says closing the door softly and clicking the lock.

Richter stands, meeting her halfway and gently takes the basins from her hands. He places them on the nearest surface and then scoops Annette up into a hug.

“Richter? What is—.”

“I’m sorry if I’ve said or done something to upset you Annette.” He says squeezing her tightly when she doesn’t immediately hug him back.

“Richter, how could you poss—.”

“It’s not my place to bring up your scars or your enslavement and I should never put my anger about them above yours.” He says quietly. “I just don’t want you to ever feel like I don’t care about you.”

“My world Richter, stop talking!” Annette laughs, leaning back hard in his arms so that they can look at each other fully.

There’s amusement on her face as she smirks up at him.

“You really do think way too hard about everything.” She teases, her hands smoothing up and down his arms. “I’m not upset with you Richter. There’s nothing to be upset about.”

He blinks, digging his fingers into her lower back.

“You’re sure?”

She nods, pushing up onto her tiptoes and pecking at his lips that’s worried swollen by chewing on with his teeth.

“I am, come let’s sit.”

She snags the supplies she’d brought back on the way as she follows him back over to the bed they shared, both of them sitting crossed legged with their knees pressed together.

Annette smiles at him as she separates the basins and motions toward them and him.

“Some ice, if you please.”

Richter blinks, looking down and laughing when he realizes what her plan is. He smirks smugly, sticking both hands into the mini tubs and letting his magic flow through him enough so that he can pile two moderate mountains of ice into them.

Annette nods approvingly when he pulls back, closing her eyes she holds up two fingers brings them to her lips for a kiss and then gently taps the top of both mountains.

The ice melts, sloshing into water almost instantly and Richter feels pride spread through his chest at how well they’re able to work together. When he looks up, meeting her eyes he’s pleased that she seems just as happy at the small task they’ve accomplished.

Annette produces two square cloths the drawer of the bedside table and hands one to him.

“You remembered to bring clothes with you, right?” She asks playfully as she dips her cloth into the water in the basin closest to the edge of the bed.

Richter rolls his eyes, “I’ve got two whole sets with me, I’ll have you know.”

Annette laughs, wringing out the cloth and beginning to wipe down her dark slender arms. Richter chooses to start with his chest, the coldness of the water clearing his head of any lingering panic and fuzzy doubt.

She was here, with him. Washing up as if it was something they did together every day. He had no reason to ever worry or doubt her.

“I wasn’t mad this morning,” Annette says suddenly. “I just needed to make sure some things got taken care of.”

He raises his eyebrows curiously, he watches as she chews on her bottom lip and a blush stains at her bronze cheeks.

“We have to be more careful.” She murmurs. “Now isn’t the time to be adding a child into our situation, we’re running straight into war.”

Oh….Oh

Heat curls around his ears and Richter chokes a bit.

“You’re right Annette, I’m sorry, I hadn’t even considered those consequences.” He blows out a breath. “I shouldn’t have been so reckless, I mean I didn’t even ask if it was alright if I—“

Annette’s hand reaches out towards him, her fingers pressing into his lips and jumbling the his words.

“I wouldn’t change anything about last night Richter.” She says firmly. “It was perfect, and Edouard will help me make a tonic to take this time.”

He kisses the tips of her fingers, which are cold from squeezing her cloth free of extra water, and pulls them away from his mouth.

“You’re sure you’re alright?” He asks.

“Yes, my love. Im certain.”

She pulls out of his grip gently, returning her hands to the cloth she’d abandoned in the water. Richter drags his own under his arms a few times and didn’t his sides, shivering when the scratches left by Annette burn in the chilly air.

He ignores the sting in favor of watching her as she leans back a bit, dabbing at water droplets that escaped her cloth and race down her stomach. She glances up at him, surprised to see him staring at her and asks,

“Are you alright?”

Richter’s mouth runs dry a bit, remembering the way his hands swallowed her waist completely last night. He shifts a bit where he sits, nodding his head as he stammers out,

“Y-Yeah, I’m good. Happy that we have this moment before the day starts.”

Annette looks to the window again, there’s a fair bit of pink in the sky but only the beginning rays of sun are breaking the ocean line. The first barely tipping the bottom seal of their window pane.

She straightens back upright, purposely extending her spine and neck so that a bit of the light can shine on her forehead and eyes. Richter watches her, once again stunned by how beautiful she is and the fact that he’s been granted permission to see her in these private moments.

Annette blinks her eyes open to say something but the urge to kiss her fills Richter’s senses entirely. And he’s not one to ever ignore the things he wants.

“Richter?” She tilts her head curiously as he lifts both basins and steadily transfers them to the ground.

Then he leans forward, balancing on his right hand and uses the other to grab her by the neck and pull her into a kiss.

Annette squeaks, her hands scrambling to hold onto his shoulders as they both rush to thrust their tongues together. Richter unfolds his legs, straightening them on either side of her and in order to not break the kiss she comes up onto her knees.

Richter smiles into their kiss, tugging her with him as he leans backwards, his hand tightening ever so slightly around the delicate slope of her neck to guide her on top of him.

“Richter..” she sighs, her legs straddling his hips. “We don’t have a lot of time.”

“Don’t worry,” he bites her bottom lip and tugs on it. “I just want to help you clean up a bit.”

He smirks up at her grunt of confusion. Richter grips her waist with both hands, groaning lowly when he lifts her easily. Holding her steady, Richter shuffles down along the bed and promptly settles Annette on his chest.

Her eyes widen, objections rising in her throat he’s certain but Richter bunches her shirt up and digs the fingers of his right hand into the top of her thick thigh.

“Trust me, Annette, please?”

She licks her lips, nodding and slowly her fingers take hold of her skirt; bunching it up to her belly button.

“I trust you.” She whispers, letting him guide her forward even more until her knees come to rest between his shoulders and the pillow beneath his head.

Richter takes a deep breath, inhaling the musk that is Annette; earthy and sweet at the same time. He doesn’t think he’ll ever smell anything better so long as he lives.

Richter drops his gaze from hers, groaning at the spots along her inner thighs of his dried seed that decorate the tantalizingly dark skin. Her short curls are damp still, lips hidden by them already starting to become slick.

“Thank you baby,” Richter murmurs, licking his lips. “Hold on to me..”

He finally manages to pull her completely above him, lowering her pussy to her mouth and pointing his tongue to part her.

“Shit! Richter!” Annette hisses far above him, her thighs muffling all sound from him.

The taste of her spreads all over his tongue like honey, sticky sweet and painting his lips; Richter buries his face even more. His nose bumps along her clit each time he flattens him tongue to stroke the length of her and he moans when Annette’s hips rock forward to chase the sensations.

Her hand not wrinkling her skirt fists in Richter’s hair painfully but the feeling only eggs him on more. He laps at her rhythmically, faintly he’s sure that not only is it Annette’s essence that gushed onto his tongue but remnants of himself from the night before too.

Sharp spikes of pleasure tingle their way down Richter’s back, making him flex his hips; his hand on her thigh sliding up and around to grip the meatiest part of her ass help her hump into his mouth.

Annette yelps, her head falling back as she fights to keep her moans and whimpers quiet. He works at her until her thighs are shuddering on either side of his ears and he knows she’s nearly there.

Blindly, Richter throws one arm over the side of the bed, searching for one of the cloths they’d been using. He wrings it mostly free of water before wrapping his arm around her thigh and wiping at the stains from last night.

It takes a few attempts but soon for every stroke of his tongue between her folds, a bit more of her inner thigh is scrubbed clean. He keeps his pace steady even as the hand on her ass rounds under and his middle finger pushes up into her.

Annette released her skirt, blocking Richter’s view of her as the fabric flutters down onto the half of his face not buried in her pussy. Judging by her muffled moans, he’s sure she’s stuck her fingers into her mouth and bitten down.

In the back of his mind, Richter wishes he hand more hands.

He stuffs a second finger inside of her, curling them together in a sequence with his tongue that sends Annette into overdrive. Her fingers leave his hair, tugging her skirt up all the way over her head and when they meet eyes again, Richter moans at the lust and love that seeps out of her.

She’s chanting his name again, much in the same fashion as she had last night. Her brow crinkled in unbridled pleasure that matched the jerk of her hips into his mouth and Richter knows she’s close.

“Richter, fuck—fuck—I’m going to—“

Her voice is strained, hissing at him as she struggles to get words out; Richter twists his fingers inside her just to hear her choke on moan. She clenches at the digits, squeezing them with her velvet heat and Richter sucks her clit between his teeth, pinching just hard enough that Annette’s body snaps and her back bows forward.

Her whine is perfect, ringing in his ears while her thighs squeeze his head and her cunt tightens to the point Richter thinks she might take his fingers from him.

He growls, suckling her clit and helping her ride through the aftershocks, tossing the cloth somewhere off to the side so he can hold her with both hands.

Soon her body jerks and shes pushing at his head, trying to move her hips back from the onslaught of pleasure his mouth has provided her.

Richter lifts her again, shifting her down into his lower stomach. Annette falls forward, laying on his chest to kiss him deeply; her tongue curious to taste herself.

Richter holds her by the back of her neck, his fingers massaging at the tendons.

“I love you, Richter.” Annette murmurs into his mouth.

He smiles, a blush spreading on his chest but happiness roaring in his ears.

“I love you too Annette.” He nips her bottom lip playfully. “Forever.”

She smiles, sighing contently and hiding her face in the crook of his neck.

Above them, there are several thuds of boots walking across the deck; their alone time is up for now. Annette pats his chest comfortingly and slowly begins to pull away from him, kissing him one last time before she shakily gets to her feet and starts to get ready for the day.

Richter followers after her, content to spend the rest of his life trailing after the beautiful dark skinned woman that has invaded his every way of life.

He wouldn’t have it any other way.

The End

Let me know what you think! Like and reblog if you enjoyed ☺️🤟🏾

#richette #richter x annette #richter belmont #annette castlevania #annette #richette smut #richette fanfic #castlevania nocturne #castlevania #castlevania: nocturne #fanfiction #castlevania fanfiction #im very geeked to be able to post this part for yall #I hope everyone enjoys #my writing #evie’s stories

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the-record · 1 year ago

Text

COWBOYS LIKE YOU

SYNOPSIS: you should stop letting her through that door

PAIRING: cowboy!abby x reader

WARNINGS: a touch of homophobia

A/N: this isnt great, and makes me sad, but i like it!! trying to be a little less dialogue focused

my masterlist

“do you have to go?” your voice is soft as abby lets the question linger in the air. “i hate it when you leave. its lonely.”

her fingers slide carefully up and down your arm and she sighs. “im sorry angel.” abby wraps her arms around you and pulls tight, trying to get you as close as possible. “you know it ain’t safe for us out there though.”

you knew she was right, seen first hand just what people think about sappho and her friends. felt the rage and anger that came when two women who just loved each other.

these nights with her were nice. the sun still going down and the heat with it. crickets started their song and birds finishing theirs. you had pulled the sheets up halfway when it cooled, the sweat on yalls skin disappearing with the breeze.

abbys nails were kept short always, but theyd begin to grow out and were gently scratching at your skin. her hair had finally grown out again and you twisted it around your fingers.

when you’d found her that night, you had to bring her back. clean up her hair, her wounds, her clothes. you couldnt leave a sweet thing like her out in the cold to die. or the boy that was with her. you never did see him again, but it meant more time just you and her.

“i can stay one more day. but then i ought to get back on.” she pressed a sweet kiss to your forehead. “you get some rest now, let me make us somethin’ warm and good for dinner.” you whine as she untangles herself from you, but only laughs before leaving the room.

you don’t remember when you nodded off, but you do remember waking up to something smelling good. she stumbled in with a tray full of plates and cups. she smiled when she saw you sit up.

“well good mornin’ sunshine.” you rolled your eyes as abby settled in beside you. “now, no more of that attitude, not when i made you somethin’ nice.”

you scoffed, crossing your arms over your chest. “now i know good and well that you, abby anderson, are not talking.” she returned the eye roll, albeit not very well. “now what is on my menu tonight mrs anderson?”

abby always left without warning, but it didn’t make it hurt any less. but you always managed to make a move on from her, prepared with the fact that she may never be back for you.

you tended to the farm, your cows. made breakfast and dinner each and every day, sweet tea and lemonade for the hot afternoons. you did afternoon tea in the ladies parlor on saturdays and church on sundays. you kept on the way you always did, never missing a beat.

until a fateful cool evening when someone came knocking on your screen, scaring you half to death as you stirred beside the stove. you sighed as you made your way to the door, wiping your hands on the apron you had on.

you nearly tripped over your own feet seeing abby at your door. took everything in you not to rush and pull her in.

she was different than when you last saw her. new clothes, hair in a loose braid, cuts and blood all over. but you didn’t yet even open the door, she had much to say first.

“before i even start, know how sorry i am. know i didnt mean for it to be this long.” she winced as she leaned on her other leg. “i wanted to come, truly i did, but ive been running all over hell’s half acre. i had business.”

you huffed, pulling the door open and taking her with you to the kitchen. “im so sorry angel, please talk to me.” you sat her down on a stool before heading back to your dinner. “what do i need to do to make it all better?”

she quieted down when you didnt respond, watching you cook. she always loved watching you do household things. made her feel right at home again.

she smiled when you sat her bowl down infront of her, stopping and staring with a frown. she wanted to tell you how pretty you were but held off, you scared her quiet a bit. her hands moved to your hips but you slapped them away and grabbed the wet rag she hadnt noticed.

“eat your damn food.” she slowly spooned the meal into her mouth as you wiped at the old cuts on her face. she winced and pulled away but you pulled back. “stop movin’ when im tryna fix you up.” she nodded as softly as possible.

when you finished, you took the rag and half finished plate with you, pulling the fork from abbys mouth. “go wash up, you will not be dirty in my house.” she nodded, though you weren’t looking, and left to the bathroom.

the plate sat on the counter as you heard her harsh steps up your stairs. you held your head in your hands and took a shaky breath.

you didnt expect her to come back. figured it was final this time. and you certainly didnt expect her at your door like that. you had to pull it together though, couldnt let her see you like this.

you washed up and wiped the kitched till it was spotless before heading upstairs to abby. she was still sitting tending to her wounds when you found her. “you’re doing it wrong.” she dropped what she was doing and slouched. “let me.”

you were gentle with your touch, knowing it was always what she needed. she lived such a hard life that sometimes she needed a gentle touch, some loving. “what in the god damn world did you get yourself into this time?” abby sniffed and you looked up for the first time.

“i hate going out there. i dont wanna anymore.” you hushed her, pulled her close. “can i stay?”

“you can do whatever you want.” you kissed her face, running your fingers through her hair. “im here no matter what you decide.” she nodded and squeezed your hand. “now let me fix up these stitches. you have no idea what your doing. bless your heart.” she laughed softly and you copied. “seriously though, sit still for me.”

“im sorry i always leave.”

it was a quiet night. crickets too tired to so much as hum, and the cow sleeping to forget the chill of the dark. the house had a chill but you and abby huddled to ignore it. it was peaceful. you missed this peace.

you hummed in response, leaning on her chest to see her face. “so don’t.” but she said nothing. did nothing. “abby…”

she shook her head. “im sorry.”

#abby anderson x reader #abby anderson fluff #abby x fem!reader #abby anderson x female reader #abby anderson tlou2 #abby anderson tlou #abby the last of us #abby anderson x y/n #abby anderson x you #abby anderson angst #abby anderson

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mythica0 · 5 months ago

Text

Levity

🎂: Epic the musical

🧁: Odysseus

🍫: Hermes

Summary: Hermes decides to cause a little mischief in the most fun way he knows how.

A/N: FUCK IT IM WRITING FOR EPIC. I am obsessed with Hermes and also very lee for him. Like there is a primal need within me to be wrecked by this man. This was very fueled by my lee mood and said desire to be wrecked by Hermes. (I basically just wrote what I wanted but happening to Odysseus haha) Hope yall enjoy this very self indulgent thing I wrote! :D

Cw for some pretty intense tickles

(P.S don’t question how Hermes does stuff it’s God Magic)

Levity

Hermes was bored. He had nothing to do, and he wasn’t the type to just sit around. No, he wanted to cause chaos. He wanted to spread mischief and jokes and make someone laugh or groan or smile, or even better, all of the above.

He decided to target his great grandson, and also his friend, Odysseus.

Ody had been on a journey after the Trojan war to get home, it’s been a month or so, and they were still just sailing. Hermes decided that the captain could use a little levity, a break from the monotony of daily life.

So he flew over to the ship and snuck on, heading towards the captains quarters.

Odysseus was working on some sort of Nondescript Work. Sitting at his desk with a quill in hand.

It wasn’t fun, but it was necessary. He stayed up late into the night, gazing out at the moon and ocean outside.

He started to feel as though he was being watched. He gazed around the room, but after not seeing anything he brushed it off.

Meanwhile, Hermes was snuck in the corner and ready to begin to cause some trouble. He started by slowly and steadily raising the.. ahem.. sensitivities… of the captain.

At first it wasn’t noticeable, after all nothing was actively tickling him, so how would he know he was getting increasingly ticklish with each passing second?

But then- the motion of his clothes against his skin felt tingly. And then the air blowing past his neck made him want to scrunch up.

Eventually it got to a point where any sort of motion at all made him giggle, and at this point he knew something, or rather, someone was messing with him.

“Alrihihight who’s doing that.” He did his best not to move to much, as every motion sent waves of ticklishness through him.

Hermes flew out, showing himself.

“Hey there, Odysseus!” He giggled, smiling tauntingly.

“Ohof course it’s you, Hermes.”

He raised an eyebrow. “And whatever is that supposed to mean?”

“You like to cause trouble. This seheems on brand for you. Now can you please return me to normal? I’d appreciate being able to move without laughing.”

“I’m afraid I can’t do that. Well, I mean, I can, I just don’t want to.”

Odysseus groaned.

“In fact, I think I’m going to take advantage of this~”

“What does that mean- HermeHEEHES!” He was cut off by his own laughter as the god flew over to him, scratching gently at his ribs.

Odysseus immediately knew this was going to suck. Hermes was barely touching him and yet he was already incapacitated by the sensation. It was so much stronger than it would’ve been normally.

“Hehermehehes cuhuhut ihit ohohout!”

“No way! This is so much fun! Dont you agree~?”

“Absohoholuhuhutely nohoHOT.” He lied between loud fits of laughter. It was so BAD and he was barely touching him! His increased sensitivity was extremely apparent, his nerves lighting up and firing rapidly at the smallest touch. But despite that- it was kinda.. fun? He couldn’t understand why, but the unbelievably ticklish feelings plaguing his nervous system felt good. It felt nice to just let go and laugh his head off, unable to do anything to stop it.

“I don’t think that’s the truth~ you seem to be having a good time to me~.”

“NohohoHo IHIM NOHOT- EEHEEHAAHA” peals of laughter echoed from him as he tried to protest, even though he didn’t really mean it.

Hermes moved up, starting to tickle the underarms of the king. This was a much worse spot for him, and his laughter became louder. He couldn’t breathe, but yet it felt so nice. He was giddy with the feeling, pounding his fists on his desk to try and expel some of the happy, ticklish energy building up within him.

“Tickle tickle tickle~ aren’t you such a ticklish little thing~ yes you are, yes you are!” Hermes teased, giggling with him.

Odysseus blushed furiously, and covered his face, but was unable to form words through his laughter. Hermes saw that he was struggling to breathe, so he lowered his ticklishness back down. Not fully to its normal levels, but enough so that he could get a good breath in.

“HErmehehehes plehehehease stohohop! I cahahant Tahahake ihihit!” Tears of joy had formed in his eyes, and he was struggling to not let them fall.

“Aww, don’t say that, I believe in you! And you better hope I’m right~, cause I don’t plan on stopping aaaanytime soon~” the trickster moved his hands to Odysseus’ tummy, squeezing gently.

“Uhughh, yohohoure a jeheherk!”

Hermes scoffed in mock offense. “Uh! You have the audacity to call a god a jerk? I come in here to provide some levity and I get called a jerk?! I cannot let that slide.”

“Yohou cahame hehere fohor ehentertahainmehent ahand yohou knohow ihit!”

“Yeah, I did. I also came here because I wanted to see some laughter, is that such a crime? And your sass is unwarranted. I’m turning your sensitivity back up-“

“Whahahait dohohont- ihihim sohorhorry!” The phrase ended in a squealing laugh as Hermes made good on his promise, turning his ticklishness up extremely.

“Are you actually sorry or are you just saying that so I’ll stop? Cause I have a feeling it’s the second one. And that’s fine- it just means I’ll have to tickle and tickle and tickle until you mean it! Doesn’t that sound like fun~”

Any protests the captain tried to make were consumed by his booming laughter, unable to form coherent thoughts, let alone sentences. His nerves were on fire in the best way, every bone in his body telling him to laugh. He felt as though the tickling sensation was at his very core, going deep into his body and mind.

Floods of dopamine hit his systems, overwhelmed by the tickles. He couldn’t stop laughing, he couldn’t stop smiling, and as much as he hated to admit it, it felt amazing. It was unbearable in such a good way, shocking his nerves over and over with light, bubbly, happy feelings. Tears had long since fallen, the overwhelming happiness and laughter forming as droplets.

All the while Hermes kept teasing, his lilting voice so flustering. Hermes was also having the time of his life, seeing someone who was usually so sad and stoic broken down into heavy fits of laughter, wide smile splitting his face.

Just then the playful god had an idea for a game, he stopped for a moment, allowing Odysseus to catch his breath.

The laughter died down into smaller giggles, perpetuated by the phantom sensations left behind.

“Hey, Odysseus~ how about we play a game, hmm~?”

“Oho gohoodnehess.. hehermes plehehease, I cahahant!”

“All you have to do is laugh~ and you’re already doing great! All I’m going to do is harvest some of the delicious laughter that’s all over this farmland~” he taunted, scooping up Odysseus and plopping him on his bed on his back, and then straddling him.

“Whahahahat? EHeehAHa!” His laughter increased in intensity once more as Hermes began to pinch at his sides and ribs.

“There’s some little laughs here~ gotta get those.” He spoke playfully.

Odysseus was slightly confused, but he couldn’t bother to wonder about it, his brain turned to mush. Laughter and giggles still echoed from him.

“Ope, this one’s being a little stubborn~” Hermes lilted, pinching repeatedly at a spot he’d found was particularly bad.

“Hermehehehes, plehehehease stohohohop!”

“Nah, I’m not done yet~ don’t worry~ I’ll stop once you really need me too.” As a god who loved to tickle others(I mean, he might as well be the god of tickling too at this point.) he had a knack for knowing when someone truly couldn’t take anymore, and Odysseus had not yet reached that point. He still seemed to be enjoying himself, no true panic behind his eyes.

“Hey, there’s a really big laugh here! Let me get it!” He acted as though he was an excited farmer, harvesting his crops. But it mostly wasn’t pretend, he was, in fact, excited to be doing this. Happy to spread laughter and joy, and a little bit of chaos along the way. He dug into Odysseus belly, with the exact pressure to make it agonizingly ticklish.

Odysseus was dying, (figuratively, of course) it tickled so much, and he couldn’t do anything about it! He felt as though he was at the gates of tickle heaven, joyful tears streaming from his eyes from the force of his laughter. It was a great workout, that’s for sure, with his stomach and face sore from the effort but in a way that was sort of pleasent.

“Man, it’s just not coming out! Maybe I should try eating it right from the vine, hmm~” he knew what that meant, and he was full of a giddy anticipation, waiting for the moment that Hermes would-

His thoughts were cut off by the sound of a raspberry right in the center of his tummy, followed by gentle nibbles. Odysseus was weak with laughter, pounding his fist on the bed below him and kicking his feet.

“Om nom nom nom! Wow! This laugh is really tasty! Let me find some more!”

He continued the game, pinching and digging at various points across Odysseus’ torso, occasionally nibbling and blowing raspberries, sometimes many in rapid succession.

All of Odysseus’ thoughts were taken up by the tickles. All that he could think of was how badly it tickled, how badly it made him want - no need- to laugh. He was reduced to nothing but a massive puddle of laughter.

Eventually, Hermes noticed Odysseus was done, and hopped off him, lowering his ticklishness back to normal.

Odysseus continued to giggle, breathing heavily in between the fits.

“Ohoho myhyhy gohoodnehess…. Thahat wahas soho bahad…. Hehehehaha.”

“How ya feeling~ happy?”

Odysseus was too giggle high to think of anything but the truth. “Ye..Yeahah. Ahand tihired..”

“Oh, good~ glad to have brought some joy. How about you get some sleep, hmm? You definitely need it after that.”

“Thahat… sounds lihike a good idea.” Odysseus agreed.

“Glad you had fun, Ody~” Hermes teased, honest with the words. As he turned to leave, he heard one last sleepy, giggly phrase.

“Thahank yohou Hermehes… I needed thahat.”

The god smiled fondly. “No problem, it was a blast for me too.” And then he flew off, leaving a dazed, sleepy and giggle high Odysseus behind.

———THE END————————————————

#sfw tickle community #parrotwrites #epic the musical tickles #ler!hermes #lee!odyssues

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norman-fucking-reedus · 10 months ago

Note

So… Scud riding fem!reader’s strap-on?

YES YES YES YES YES FUCKING YES

UGHH When I tell y’all Scud fucking LOVES to ride. It puts so much power into his little hands he doesn’t even know what to do with himself

FOR THE FIRST TIME IN FOREVER IM GONNA ACTUALLY WRITE THIS OUT BC yall dont even understand the way this consumes my brain. Bottom Scud is for life I’m sorry hes my baby and my baby deserves to be fucked

“Fuck I almost forgot what the apartment looks like!” Scud sighed heavily as the door creaked out, kicking off his shoes and stretching as he walked over to the couch, dropping himself down onto it. You shut the door behind yourself and toe off your own shoes, leaving them in a messy pile right next to Scud’s.

You peeled off your coat and hung it up, keys following suit before you padded into the tiny kitchen “Do we have any food?” You groan as you open the door, fridge mostly empty and stuffed with mainly leftovers.

“We can get some takeout, fuck, I’d kill for a burger right now” Scud spoke as he moved onto the floor, banging on the shitty TV to boot it up and plugging in his PS2 controllers. “We don’t have enough money” You frown slightly, walking into the living room and plopping down on the couch, legs on either side of Scud’s head. He almost purred contently when your fingers began scratching his scalp.

Scud easily turned into putty at the faintest touches, slumping against you as you massaged his head. “Mmh, can we smoke a bowl?” He muttered, and you’d be crazy to deny.

“I think we only have a little left” You said as you leaned over the arm of the couch, grabbing a grinder and Scud’s bong. You tapped whatever remains were left in the gringer into the small glass bowl, reaching down to fish out the small bag you bought to better preserve the bud. “When’s Blade paying us again?”

Scud shrugged, fingers tapping and flying against his controls as he played some fighting game, leaning himself comfortably against your leg as he spoke. “Hopefully soon. I should asked for a raise” You stick a few sticky nubs into the grinder, twisting it around a couple times until it was finely grinded up into keef.

“Like he’d ever give you one” You snort, snatching a lighter and half dranken waterbottle off the coffee table. You pour the rest of the water into the bottom of the bong, sticking the long bowl inside and holding it steady by the long neck, gapping your lips through the whole at the top, flicking the lighter and bringing the flame down onto the small bowl on the side, inhaling until the water started to bubble and smoke started to form, swirling up and filling the long bong, your lungs shortly after.

It was a huge hit, the smoke turning a slight yellow color as it was built up and burning your chest where you held it in for a few seconds, exhaling a cloud of smoke. “Hey no fair!” Scud snapped his head around and pouted at you, because he wanted you to shot gun that right down his throat.

“I’ll give you the next one” You comb fingers through his hair as he whines softly. You bring the flame back down to the bowl, inhaling and watching the yellow-ish smoke form inside and climb up into the neck, down into your lungs.

You held it in for a few seconds as you tilted Scud’s head back, pressing your slightly agape lips against his and exhaling your hit into his mouth, smirking softly at his tiny moan as he inhaled.

Scud sighed around his exhale, staring up at you from his upside down position. “What?” You mumbled, cupping his face with a small smile. “That make you happy?”

He nodded, leaning up to kiss you before turning his attention down to the bong in his lap, not wanting to knock it over. You handed him the lighter, and glanced over at the clock.

“We should just order a pizza” You murmured, rising to your feet and stepping around Scud who was mid-rip. He followed you with his eyes, taking a massive hit and coughing out, exhaling a huge cloud that fogged up your small living room more. “I thought we didn’t have money?” He croaked out, beating on his chest a little.

As he said that, you rummaged through your purse, fishing out your wallet and opening it, raising a brow. “I’ve got ten bucks”

Scud pats his pockets, digging through them and pulling out a few crumbled ones. Better than nothing. You took the bills out his hand and grabbed the landline, plopping back down on the couch as you clicked through the numbers, eventually landing on the local pizzeria.

Stoned, showered, and stuffed, you watched with half lidded eyes as Scud needily bounces on your strap, loud moans and whines coming from him.

“Feels so fucking good, mommy feels so fucking good, want her to fuck me so hard” Scud babbled, sobbing as he totally fucked himself stupid, fingers curling into the cushion of the couch. You watched, rocking your hips steady against the small vibe pressed to your clit, throbbing from all Scud’s sweet little sounds. “You don’t need my help pretty boy, you’ve got it” You coo, sliding your hands across his hips, running them up his shirt and wrapping them around his throat, squeezing tightly. He wheezed out a gasp, clenching around you and whimpering the best he could in your grip.

You pulled him down for a hot and sloppy kiss, Scud breathlessly panting into your mouth as his back arched, rolling his hips down and up against you. He was a complete mess, choking on his moans and grunts as he started to ride your dildo harder and faster, rocking his hips back and whining desperately. “Good boy. Ride me like the dirty little whore you are, hear how disgustingly wet you are for me baby?”

“Y-yes, love b-being so wet for mmngh!–mommy, always s-so ready for her” Scud gasped out his words, your grip around his throat still so blissfully tight that he was starting to become lighthead, shifting himself a little before grinding back down, a loud and choked off whimper tearing from him. “There! Please, please fuck me there- need mommy to fuck right there” Scud desperately cried, bouncing on the spot with all the strength in his body. You gripped his hips and thrust up into him, Scud heaving a groan as he caught his breath. You ruthlessly pounding into him from underneath, watching Scud’s pretty face twist and turn in pure pleasure.

His fingers tightly gripped the couch cushions, toes curled and his head rolling side to side, so utterly destroyed. “Ohh fuuck” He bit down on his spit-soaked bottom lip, loud moans and whimpers escaping past anyway. Each hard jab of your cock was sending him flying off the edge, his own cock twitching and oozing a mix of cum and pre-cum, the tip turning a cherry red as it start to swell up, painfully hard.

“Gonna cum aren’t you, Scud? Or do you need mommy’s help with that too?” You ghosted your hand near his cock.

Scud trembled like a leaf in your lap, “Can’t do it by myself– I can’t–“ sobbing as he pushed back against your thrusts, the head of your strap bumping the bundle of nerves inside him. “Need mommy to help, need her so bad” He rambled, continuing to rock back against you. His face was soaked with tears, sweat, and drool as he was almost riding you again, loud drawn out moans tearing from his chest as each snap of your hips took him further and further. “You poor little thing, begging for help cause you can’t get yourself off on my cock?”

You started to slow your hips, rocking into him at a quick but lazy pace. Scud whimpered and desperately pushed back against you, chasing the blissful build of his orgasm. “Hnnghh– I need- I can’t- Ughhh fuuck! Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck” Scud was so entirely gone, so very far gone. It felt like there were a million bees buzzing against his body, tossing his head back with a loud, broken and shaky sob of sheer pleasure, only a few more hard bounces before his jaw went totally slack, eyes rolling into the back of his skull as his untouched cock spasmed and twitched lewdly as he came, warm shots of white painting his shirt and landing on yours.

Scud slumped down against you, dropping his head onto your shoulder breathlessly and overfucked. He twitched slightly, and whined when you slipped yourself out, leaving his hole to feel uncomfortably empty.

You combed fingers through his hair, kissing his sweaty face and holding his limp body flush against yourself. “Wanna go to bed?” You whisper, kissing his cheek and letting your lips linger there. Scud nodded, but groaned when he realized that meant he had to get up. “Comfy” He mumbled, snaking his arms around you and squeezing, burying his face in your chest.

"We need to change, babyboy" You kiss the top of his head, feeling his sticky cum starting to seep through the fabric of your shirt. Scud whined, arms tightening.

You sighed, tired, high, and a little hungry again. Scud was starting to feel really heavy in your lap, pressing his whole weight down onto you. The clock in the kitchen ticked, and an idea crossed your mind, grunting as you pushed yourself up onto your feet suddenly, Scud flailing and scrambling to wrap his legs around you, eyes wide at the change in position. "Bed" Was all you said, hoisting him up and carrying him into your single shared bedroom.

When you went to drop your boyfriend down onto the bed, trying to get him a clean shirt, he tugged you down with him, rolling you onto your back and straddling you once again, staring down with a flushed and needy face. "Wanna go again, wanna ride mommy again" He huffed, grinding back against your strap. His skin burned, and the fabric of his shirt was uncomfortably sticking to his skin, leading him to pry it off, tossing it somewhere in the room.

You did the same, nothing wrong with sleeping naked, and moved a hand down to steady your dildo, holding it so that Scud could lower himself down, drawn out moan leaving his lips. Being so full of cock made him happy, especially when he could feel the hot drag of silicone against his walls.

Scud lifted himself up and almost immediately dropped back down, a shaky groan coming from his chest as he wasted no time eagerly bouncing his hips against you, whole body on display. You ran your fingers across his bare legs, up his jutting hips, and across his tattered belly, tickling his scars under your soft touch which made him giggle. He wasn't really one to feel insecure. Your fingers danced across his sensitive nipples, a tiny whimper in response.

“Such a spoiled little brat, aren’t you?” You coo as you watch Scud’s nude frame grind against yours, his cock bouncing and smacking against his abdomen. Scud whined and nodded, rolling his hips. It was true that he was very spoiled as saying no to him was genuinely the hardest task of your life. You could deny him, but never flat out refuse. In the end, Scud always got what he wanted, and right now, he really wanted to cum again, leaning down to needily kiss you.

You took the chance the place your feet on the bed, thrusting upwards into Scud who moaned into your mouth, gasping against you as you pounded into him. “Feels so good, mommy makes me feel so good” He slurred out breathlessly, moving to bury his face in your soft tits. He whimpered as you nailed his sweet spot, his cock rubbing against where it was sandwiched between your bodies.

Scud simply moaned and clung to you, dragging his tongue over one of your nipples and sucking it. Each rough snap of your hips lurched him forward, his hums vibrating your tit and his cock leaking all over your stomach.

He groaned and squirmed ontop of you, his hands squeezing the squishy flesh of your chest, pressing his face into their warmth. “Gonna cum, feels so good ‘m gonna cum” Scud babbled, his words muffled. You pressed his front closer to yours, making him rut his tender cock against you which each hard thrust. It was all that Scud needed to totally fall apart, whimpering out sobs as ropes of cum spurted from him, landing on both your stomachs.

You dropped your hips and completely pulled out of Scud, running fingers through his hair when he whined at the loss. “You made a mess of us both, Scud”

“M’sorry, just felt really good” He mumbled, head now pillowed on your chest, one of his hands mindlessly fondling a soft breast. “Can we take a bath?”

You smile softly, even though you had both just showered an hour ago. “Only if we make it bubble one”

｡･:*:･ﾟ★｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★

#scud frohmeyer #scud fanfiction #scud #scud x reader #scud blade 2 #hes my babygirl #norman fucking reedus #normanreedus #norman reedus #the walking dead #daryl dixon #the walking dead daryl #daryl fanfiction #daryl dixion imagine #twd daryl #twd

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rv3rblog · 1 year ago

Text

dog tags || kyle “gaz” garrick

gaz x male!reader

warnings: general smut warning, top!gaz, bottom!reader, praise, degradation, edging, overstimulation, oral (reader receiving), fingering (reader receiving), penetration (reader receiving), breeding kink mention

18+ // MDNI

based on this headcannon post (nearing the end) and this post

wore count: 3.4k

note: i fought demons.

synopsis: gaz really likes you wearing his dogtags.

it’s a quiet day in your apartment. both you and kyle enjoying a day in. your head was resting on his thigh and his hand kept carressing your head. neither of you speaking, instead watching the show on the television.

you had decided a while ago, what show the two of you would watch together. interested in the show, you don’t notice kyle’s gaze on you.

“hey doll?” he says.

you hum, acknowledging him.

“come here.”

you look up at him, slightly confused as to what he means.

it’s when he taps his lap when you realize where he wants you. you move to sit up and smile softly at him, your body moving to sit on his lap. his hands move to your waist once you’re situated, humming contently as he feels you close to him.

“missed you a lot,” he whispers.

you look down at him, a hand wrapping the back of his neck, your fingers slightly scratching him.

“i missed you too,” you reply truthfully.

it was always hard, being away from kyle when he goes off on missions. you don’t press for details, never do. you let him talk about them if he wants — funny moments here and there. he tells you about jokes ghost and soap said on comms and about moments between him and price.

when kyle comes back — because he always comes back — the two of you stay close to each other. always wanting to be around each other, soak up what you two missed and for the next time he left.

kyle keeps his hands on your waist for a bit and then starts to move them up your body, his fingers grazing your side lovingly. he moves his hands higher and higher, grasping your face softly as he moves you down to be able to kiss you.

the way kyle kisses you depends on the mood between the two of you.

when he sees you after being deployed, he kisses you sweetly. it’s full of longing, a lingering message of i love you and i missed you.

when it’s morning, he kisses you softly. a small kiss, nothing too long for it’s just morning. he whines when you try to get up, his hand around your waist tightens and then you whine that you have to use the restroom. he kisses you softly, lovingly. it’s full of i love yous and im happy.

sometimes, the kisses are short. a small peck while the two of you dance around the kitchen as yall cook. these kisses are full of laughter, full of joy.

other times, they’re lustful. they have an end goal, kyle wanting you under him moaning and all fucked out on his cock.

this kiss, this kiss is lustful.

his hold on your face hardened slightly and he keeps pushing up against you. you whine quietly into the kiss. it’s passionate. his tongue enters your mouth, exploring it even though he has done this a million times.

when you pull back, you’re breathless. kyle chases after your lips in a daze and there’s a string of saliva connecting the two of you.

“kyle,” you whisper.

you don’t get to finish, he kisses you again. you whine into the kiss. you can feel yourself buck against kyle’s hips and the both of you moan into the kiss.

he smiles against the kiss and he pulls back. this time, you’re the one going after his lips.

kyle moves a hand from your face down to your neck. his finger traces the chain around your neck and then he pulls the necklace out from under your shirt.

his dogtags.

you had asked him once, why he didn’t just leave them with you. he answered that if he could he would, but regulations wouldn’t allow him too.

“my pretty boy,” he whispers. “keeping it safe for me hm?”

you laugh softly at that and nod your head. you know what’s coming. to you, kyle is easy to read. his pupils seem to dilate at the sight of you wearing his tags and he hums contently as he sees his dog tags laying comfortably on your chest.

he stays silent as he drinks in the sight of you on his lap, with his claim on you.

kyle looks at you with adoration in his eyes. you feel your cheeks warming up and your turn your head away from him, trying to aviod looking into his eyes.

“oh no baby,” he says as he grabs your face to look at him. “no need to be shy pretty boy.”

there’s a small pout on your lips as he makes you hold eye contact with him. he smiles at you, a little too cocky for your liking.

“what are you thinking about kyle?” you ask softly, grinding slowly against him. “what’s got you excited?”

kyle moves the other hand from your face to the back of your neck, playing with your hair. meanwhile, his other hand moves down to your waist, squeezing it.

“you know what darlin..” he says lowly.

“indulge me.”

he moves his eyes from his dog tags on your chest to your eyes. he tilts his head as he smirks up at you.

“you’re a real pretty thing darlin,” he purrs. “my pretty boy, yeah?”

the hand that was on your neck moves to the chain and tugs you down. your face inches away from him.

“this?” he says, twirling the chain around his finger. “this makes you mine.”

he leans forward and bites your lip and pulls back.

“kyle-” you start.

“yeah baby? what is it?” he asks with a faux pout.

you huff out a breath and squirm on his lap. kyle’s grip on your waist tightens even more and you let out a soft laugh. he tugs softly at the necklace around your neck, signaling you to kiss him.

you lower your head and kiss him. your hands move to his shoulder to the back of his head to pull him closer. both of you grind against each other, a shaky moan leaving both your lips.

“fuck, up baby come on.” he whispers as he pulls away. “bedroom. come on.”

you laugh softly and as you climb off his lap and go to stand up he squeezes your ass. he stands behind you, his hands on your waist as he grinds against you.

“wanna bend you over and fuck you right here daring,” he whispers against your ear.

you whine softly. “why don’t you?”

“haven’t prepped you, can’t hurt you just because im horny can i baby?”

you hum softly and place your hands on top of his.

“okay,” you say softly. “come on then.”

the walk to the bedroom isn’t long. kyle walks closely behind you nipping at your neck. it isn’t until you reach the room and close the door he fully gets on you.

he pushes you against the door and grabs your face, kisses you passionately. he nips at your bottom lip and smiles against your lips when he feels your hips buck up trying to find some friction.

“always so needy,” he mumbles against your lips.

he moves to place a thigh between your legs and presses against your crotch.

“go on darling, take what you need.”

you whine as he kisses you again, just as hard as before. you grind against his thigh and moan into the kiss. kyle eats your moans greedily.

he moves his lips away from yours and starts to trail kisses down. he bites against your jaw and sucks softly against the skin. your breath hitches and you grip onto his shoulders.

he continues to move downwards, his lips on your neck now. he leaves wet kisses and sucks on the skin. he bites the skin connecting your neck and shoulder which causes you to gasp.

“mm?” kyle hums against your skin. “hurt?”

you swallow thickly and shake your head. “nono, ‘s fine.”

he kisses the same spot he bit you and moved to unbuckle your jeans.

“this ok?” he whispers softly.

“mhm, it’s okay.” you reply.

he hums softly and fully unbuckles your jeans. he goes down onto his knees and pulls your jeans down.

“look at you baby, so needy,” he muses.

you huff out a laugh and place your hand on the back of his neck.

“such a pretty boy,” he continues.

“come on ky, don’t be a tease,” you tell him.

“baby you know i could be way worse of a tease.”

kyle then moves to kiss your cock through your briefs, his mouth warm against you.

“fuck-” you whimper.

you feel him laugh against you. his tongue then moves to lick you through your briefs, leaving wet marks against you. your grip tightens against his neck and pulls back.

“nuh uh darling, not like that.” he reperminds you.

you nod slowly and move your hand away from his neck, placing it on top of his head.

kyle smiled up at you and then moved to pull your briefs down. your breath hitched as the cold air hit your tip.

it didn’t take long dor kyle to continue teasing you.

he wrapped his hand around the base and gave you a couple dry strokes. you whined softly and thrusted into his grip and he looked up at you, giving you a warning.

he then moved to lick your tip, keeping his grip around your base.

“ky-”

“be patient darling.”

his lips wrapped around your tip and you let out a soft groan. your eyes moved to look at kyle and he was already looking at you. he then moved his head forward, taking more of you. he stilled and kept a hand on your hip to prevent you from thrusting into his mouth.

this other hand was still on you, what he couldn’t fit he would stroke in time with the way he bobbed his head.

whenever you let out a moan, he hummed appreciatively around you.

kyle could feel your legs start to shake and your stomach tense.

he kept going for a little longer before pulling back which got a whine from you.

when you looked down at him he gave you a smirk and got up from the ground. he tugged at his dogtags around your neck and then walked to the bed, his finger still hooked on the chain making you follow him.

he pushed down onto the bed and took off his jeans and briefs. he sat down on your lap and started kissing you again.

it was slow. his hands holding onto your face as he grinded softly against you, both of you moaning into the kiss. you move to grab onto his hips, helping him grind against you.

kyle chuckles as he moves his lips onto your jaw, biting softy again. he moves a hand down your body and wraps it around both of you.

“spit,” he tells you.

his voice is commanding and you obey. you spit onto your cocks and watch as he starts to stroke both of you.

your grip around his hips tighten as you watch. kyle takes that opportunity to kiss your neck again, biting and sucking your skin.

“let me tell you what i plan to do to you yeah?” he whispers against your neck. “i’m gonna finger you, get you ready for me. i’m gonna have you come untouched, just by my fingers in you.”

his grip tightens and you whine loudly, throwing your head back.

“and then, i’m going to continue fingering you. i’m gonna make you bed for my cock and then…” he bites hard onto your neck, causing you to let out a broken moan. “then i’m going to fuck you slowly at first. i want to hear you bed for me. then, if you’re a good boy, i’ll give you what you want.”

his words are broken with moans as he starts to go faster. you moan as his pace quickens, as his words sink in.

“then, i’ll let you cum on my cock. that sound good baby? you gonna cum on my cock like a good boy?” he asks seductively.

“mhm- fuck yes kyle- fuck whatever you want.” you whine as you thrust your hips into his hand.

“maybe.. if you bed even more. i’ll cum in you. want me to breed you?” he whispers against your skin.

he’s looking up at you, his lips against your neck. you twitch in his hand and he chuckles, biting your neck softly.

“oh you like that don’t you?” he asks confidently. “you want me to breed you baby?”

“kyle,” you whine.

“yes? or no darling?” he asks.

“mhm, yes. yesyes please.”

you can feel him smile against your neck and his pace slows down.

“lay down baby, come on now.” he tells you.

you follow his instructions easily.

“now that’s a good boy,” he whispers softly.

he grabs the lube from the bedside table and hovers over you.

“bring your knees up,” he tells you. “good boy.”

he opens the cap and puts some on his fingers. he moves his hand down and teases your entrance with a finger. it causes you to buck your lips with a pout on your lips.

“come on don’t tease kyle,” you whine. “not right now. please.”

he chuckles softly and nods his head with a fake pout on his lips.

“okay darling,” he tells you. “alright then.”

when the first finger goes in, you let out a shaky breath. he stays still and when you nod your head he starts to thrust the finger in and out of you.

he watches your face as he does so. when you ask for another finger he gives it to you. he watches as you whine and your eyes flutter close.

“good boy,” he praises. “you’re doing so good for me.”

he continues to slowly thrust. he keeps his eyes on you and it overwhelms you. you can feel your cheeks warming up and you whine softly.

it’s when he curls his fingers, hitting your prostate, when you let out a choked moan. your back arches off the bed and he smiles cockily at you.

“mm.. here?” he asks as he hits your prostate again.

his eyes are on you as you moan again, nodding your head frantically as he continues to hit your prostate. he leans down to kiss you and inserts a third finger while you’re distracted.

the stretch is there, the pain dull with how often he hits your prostate.

“look so pretty baby,” he mutters. “look at how well you’re taking my fingers darling.”

you whine, your eyes closed due to the pleasure of how often he’s hitting your prostate. you can feel his other hand on your skin and then you feel him tug at the chain.

“i said look,” he tells you.

you whine as you open your eyes, choke out a moan when you see how his fingers keep going in and out of you.

“good boy,” he coos.

he keeps his eyes on your face as you watch his fingers. his eyes drift down towards your cock and hums softly.

“you’re dripping darling,” he whispers. “look at yourself. such a pathetic boy, so needy for my cock huh?”

“mhm fuck.”

he coos at you and kisses you. you feel your stomach tighten and kyle chuckles.

“clenching around me?” he whispers into the kiss. “you gonna cum?”

you whine. “my cock-”

“no baby, on my fingers or i won’t let you cum at all,” he reminds you. “don’t you want to be good for me?”

you whine as you nod your head. broken moans leaving your lips as he continues to thrust his fingers in and out of you. your eyes fall closed and kyle doesn’t bother reprimanding you.

it’s when you feel your cock twitch, your back arching, when you know you’re about to cum.

“ky-” you moan. “kyle can i-”

“go ahead baby, cum on my fingers.”

you feel your cum hit your stomach and chest and you moan kyle’s name. you try catching your breath as you come down your high and whine at the feeling of overstimulation as kyle continues to finger you.

“one more baby, then i’ll give you my cock okay?” he asks. “that okay darling.”

you let out a moan, “yes- fuck. yes.”

he smiles and kisses you softly as he continues. he changes his pace a couple times, wanting to draw out the time between your orgasmas.

he chuckles softly as you clench around his fingers again.

“go on baby,” he tells you. “cum whenever you want.”

you cum again, spraying all over yourself again and he slowly pulls his fingers out of you.

you whine at the loss and he kisses your forehead.

“still okay?” he asks.

“yeah,” you reply softly.

he pours lube on his cock and strokes himself a couple times before lining up agaisnt your hole.

he goes in slowly. the stretch hurting a little bit even though he prepped you earlier. you whimper softly as you grip onto his shoulders, nails digging in.

“take what you need daring,” he says.

he continues to go in and when he bottoms out both of you moan. he stays still for a minute, giving you time to adjust to

him. you squirm a little bit and nod at him.

“you can move,” you tell him.

he hums softly and moves slowly at first. he watches as your face twists in pleasure and your grip on his shoulder loosens a little.

one hand moves down onto the bed sheets and he grabs it, intertwining your fingers together.

“so good for me baby,” he praises. “such a good boy for me.”

he stays at the same pace and you remember his words from earlier.

“more,” you whisper softly.

“hm?” he asks.

“faster kyle please,” you beg.

“like.. this?”

he picks up his pace but his thrusts are shallow. you whine at the change and shake your head.

“harder too,” you whine. “please kyle- you know you want to- fuck.”

he starts to thrust harder against you. his hand tightening around yours. your hand on his shoulder starts to dig in again. you open your eyes to see him watching the chain around your neck.

“fuck kyle, you like it that much on me?” you asks, your words broken by moans.

“you think i wouldn’t baby?” he asks as he thrust harsher into you. “it’s my mark on you. my claim.”

you moan at that.

“means you’re mine,” he continues. “my boy. my boyfriend. mine.”

you nod your head frantically.

“yours kyle. only yours.”

he hums softly. you clench around him again, overstimulated from your previous two orgasams.

“gonna cum baby?” he asks.

you nod.

“go ahead baby,” he tells you.

“no,” you whine. “wanna- fuck wanna cum with you.”

he groans at that and picks up his pace. his hand tightening against yours. you feel him twitch inside of you and you moan.

kyle revels in your noises so you keep making them.

“go on baby, cum for me yeah?” he says. “go ahead. be a good boy.”

at that, you cum for the third time. once more spilling onto your stomach and chest.

kyle thrusts into you a couple more times and then spills into you. it feels warm and you whine at the feeling.

both of you pant and once coming down from your highs, you kiss each other softly.

“gonna pull out now,” he whispers.

you nod your head and whimper as he does so. you feel him spill out of you and you crinkle your nose.

“i’ll be back,” he says as he kisses your forehead.

he comes back with a warm washcloth and a glass of water. he cleans your legs and makes sure to get off your cum and his.

you drink some water and hand him the glass. he takes a couple sips and once both of you are ready, he leans down next to you.

you lean into him as he wraps his arms around your waist. a hand going back to trace the chain on your neck.

“you really do like it huh,” you tease.

“i really do,” he replies. “means you’re mine.”

you hum at that and give him a quick kiss.

“i love you,” you tell him.

“i love you,” he replies, squeezing your waist.

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