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syoddeye · 3 months

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consequence

price x f!reader | 1069 words nice tags: loser x loser, john price having a sliver of game, but it works a/n: continuation of this shortie. played myself here. 💀

“orange?”

“green.”

“what?”

“sorry, are we not naming colors?”

he's simultaneously wounded and amused that she doesn’t even look up to lash him with her tongue. suppose his attempts are ten a penny—she gets chatted up every day; he’s seen it firsthand.

ever since he tracked her to the shop a little over three weeks ago, he’s become a regular. he goes out of his way to visit and watch her handle interested parties like a professional. from the vantage of his usual table, he pretends to read or scroll on his phone, listening in on how she rebuffs them. his own politeness is rewarded with a gradual drop in her guard.

see, from his observations, he’s deduced what other prospects lack: persistence. something he has in spades.

he moves down the counter with her. it’s always slower in the afternoon, affording the time to talk. her good-for-nothing coworker is on another break.

“your cast.” he gestures. “brand new?”

she fumbles the tamper and bites out a quick, “yep.”

“no signatures.” her last one—bright blue—was nearly black with names and drawings just yesterday.

“got it this morning before i clocked in.”

“your boss still made you come in after that?”

“yeah, well, some of us have to work—shit.” she drops the tamper and portafilter, both thunking onto the rubber mat at her feet. grounds litter the counter and floor, and her eyelids twitch.

accident prone. unlucky. perhaps both.

john considers jumping the bar. a glance at the staff door says her coworker isn’t rushing to help, but he can’t push the line he’s drawn. in pencil. with a light hand.

after all, it wasn’t too long ago that she was jilted in love. she might as well wear a handle with care label.

she swears, fetches a hand broom and pan, then ducks.

“can i—?” he starts.

“absolutely not.” she snips, alternating tools in her good hand, piling the spilled grounds.

john lets a brief silence stretch, listening to the broom swish and other customers typing on laptops. he leans far enough to cast a shadow over her, and his mind wanders off.

“i didn’t mean to snap. or insinuate you’re, uh, underemployed.”

his focus splinters, his daydreams burst. god help a lech like him. sees a pretty girl on her knees and he’s fifteen years younger. christ. he distracts himself with the mess on the counter.

“takes more than a smart remark to hurt me.”

“yeah? well, watch out for scooters. that’s all it took to hurt me.” she smirks with eyes downcast, sweeping the pile into the pan.

if you’d just popped to the door, love. fessed up. i’d’ve taken care of you.

“mm, you’re resilient though. you got back up.”

she stands, shrugging. “like i said. had to. girl’s gotta eat. bills don’t pay themselves.”

“truer words.” john offers his share of collected grounds and a smile.

she murmurs thanks as she disposes of the coffee and moves to restart his drink until he raises a hand.

“give it a rest.”

“you paid for it.” she squints, disbelieving he’s passing on his coffee. her lips press together, and the small scar from the crash punctuates her uncertainty.

“i want somethin’ else.” his true intentions must bleed through his eyes because the corners of her mouth then pull down. he swiftly adds, “let me sign it.”

she nearly drops everything a second time. “you want to sign it. my cast?”

“do you have somethin’ else i could sign?”

her nostrils flare when she’s surprised. embarrassed? it’s cute. he wants to see it again.

“fine. here.” she dumps the pan, sets it aside, and hands him the marker she keeps clipped to her apron.

he’s careful when he leans closer, concentrating, ignoring the ding of the bell above the cafe’s door. the warmth of her skin seeps through where he holds her arm steady. his chin dips, relishing the strong scent of espresso and how nice and still she’s standing. it’s impulsive, deciding to smudge the line he’d drawn.

she only notices as he writes the last digit next to ‘john’.

“are you—is that your phone number?”

the bell rings again, and a cluster of voices follow.

“it is.” john confirms with a satisfied grin, glancing at his uniform scrawl. he caps her pen and slides it into the top pocket of her apron. time’s run out with the arrival of the mid-afternoon rush. clockwork. “good chat.” he winks, savors the finer details of her sweet, bewildered expression, and weaves around the small crowd of office workers in for a pick-me-up.

he’s pure confidence on the trip home, imagining what she’ll say when she calls or texts. how he’ll surprise her with his car on the first date. what? why’re you staring like that? how does it look familiar? he cracks himself up, thinking of how he’ll pry a confession out of her, then lean into it. what a coincidence. must be fate, visiting your shop.

his phone remains on the table as he goes about the rest of the day, half-heartedly doing what needs to be done while home. she works until seventeen-hundred, so he doesn’t expect immediacy. it doesn’t stop him from finding excuses to hover nearby or snatching up the device when it pings ten minutes after closing.

>> if this is a plot to get free drinks, i only get one a shift and it’s for me

> It’s a ploy to buy you a drink, if you’d like.

three dots appear and disappear rapidly.

>> i’m not drinking right now >> considering how i got the cast

> then what are your plans for tomorrow?

persistence.

>> supermarket

> Wonderful. Send your address. I’ll pick you up.

>> oh you’re one of those guys >> self invitation type >> you don’t need to come???

> Are you going to carry them yourself?

another round of dots.

>> good point >> fine, be my muscle

> Gladly.

she sends her address, which he promptly inputs into a search engine. decent area, expensive rent. clicks his tongue as he clicks through the photos from an old listing. hopefully, the pathetic-looking deadbolt’s been updated.

he suggests a time.

>> works for me

> Good. See you tomorrow.

>> yeah yeah, night john x

his eyes hitch to the ‘x’, and his chest tightens. he exits the rental site and glances around his flat. yeah, she’ll fit in quite nicely.

#loser loser double loser as if whatever #i conse on her quence what #you do not want to go against john price when the long game is on the line #brought to you by me wanting something on the sweeter side #price x f!reader #price x reader

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umeuyenicorn · 3 months

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Thank all of you for participating in suggesting and voting in this poll, the result are here

And...quack! The rubber duck came first place. So this is my attempt at drawing him

Here's the poll for the absurd gift ideas:

Note: I will add the top three from the previous poll in the game (and for other ideas that weren't picked maybe I will try to combining some of them with the ideas in this poll)

Special thanks to them for suggesting the ideas on this poll:

@kimium | @koby-lux | @axiian19-art | @lilacscentedcandle | @K4shuu

#my art #aventurine honkai star rail #hsr aventurine #honkai star rail #aventio #fangame #dr ratio #hsr ratio #honkai sr #hsr #ratiorine #veritas ratio #aventurine #art #artists on tumblr #illustration #artwork

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hurthermore · 5 months

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»»------► 𝚂𝚊𝚍𝚘𝚖𝚊𝚜𝚘𝚌𝚑𝚒𝚜𝚖 (18+)

Pairing: 𝙰𝚕𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚘𝚛 𝚡 𝙵!𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛

Summary: 𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚜𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠𝚗 𝚋𝚎𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚗 𝚝𝚘 𝚊𝚌𝚌𝚎𝚙𝚝 𝚊 𝚐𝚒𝚏𝚝 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝚊𝚗𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚖𝚊𝚗; 𝚢𝚘𝚞'𝚛𝚎 𝚕𝚞𝚌𝚔𝚢 𝚢𝚘𝚞'𝚛𝚎 𝚊 𝚖𝚊𝚜𝚘𝚌𝚑𝚒𝚜𝚝.

Word Count: 𝟸.𝟼𝚔

Warnings: 𝚂𝚊𝚍𝚘𝚖𝚊𝚜𝚘𝚌𝚑𝚒𝚜𝚖, 𝙱𝙳𝚂𝙼, 𝚌𝚑𝚘𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚒𝚗𝚜, 𝚜𝚙𝚊𝚗𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚝𝚑𝚛𝚘𝚊𝚝 𝚏𝚞𝚌𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚝𝚘𝚗𝚐𝚞𝚎, 𝚙𝚊𝚒𝚗 𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚢, 𝚍𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚎𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚜 𝚏𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚎𝚛 𝚏𝚞𝚌𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚋𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚍 𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚢, 𝚞𝚜𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚊𝚌𝚕𝚎𝚜, 𝚋𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚍 𝚜𝚖𝚞𝚝, 𝚋𝚘𝚍𝚢 𝚜𝚑𝚘𝚝𝚜, 𝚋𝚎𝚍 𝚋𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐

A/N: 𝚂𝚊𝚍𝚘𝚖𝚊𝚜𝚘 𝚠𝚘𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚙𝚘𝚕𝚕, 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚜𝚘 𝚌𝚕𝚘𝚜𝚎 𝚊𝚐𝚊𝚒𝚗𝚜𝚝 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚗𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚘!! 𝙸 𝚠𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚍𝚎𝚏𝚏𝚘 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚔 𝚘𝚗 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚗𝚘 𝚗𝚎𝚡𝚝, 𝚢𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚔𝚢 𝚑𝚞𝚑<𝟹𝟹𝟹

“You do remember our safeword, don’t you cherie?”

His voice was dripped in a sweetness that contrasted the frustration he had etched onto his face, and oh was he agitated. You knew of Alastor's ridiculous possessive behaviour over you, so why on earth you decided it would be a good idea to accept a custom made rubber duck from a blushing Lucifer was beyond you.

Alastor hadn’t taken the acceptance well; almost immediately he had ragged the duck from your hands before he groaned a murmur of disgust as he looked at it, only to light it afire on a green flame that disintegrated it into mere dust. You felt incredibly bad as you took in the king of hell’s saddened and gaping expression as Alastor cynically destroyed something he had spent so much time on; and before you could apologise on behalf of your husband’s behaviour, Alastor had shadow warped you into your shared room.

You were planning on berating Alastor, but as soon as your vision cleared from the shadowed warp, his voice had beat you to it as he had asked you why you would dare accept a gift from someone that was not him himself; why you thought it appropriate. You attempted to explain it to him, elucidating that it would have been incredibly rude to not accept the gift, only for Alastor to interject your speech, suggesting you had a thing for the king of hell.

A smack was what he deserved after implying you were attracted to another man that was not your Alastor; a smack is what he got.

“Yes.” You responded to the handsome demon before you; this was your punishment. Surprisingly, it wasn’t for the strike you had forced against his face; Alastor had deeply apologised for even entertaining the idea after you reprimanded him for questioning your love for him. No. This punishment was to remind you not to accept anything from anyone that wasn’t your husband ever again.

Looking directly into his eyes, you stood in front of your husband whilst he seated himself in the armchair behind him; his eyes, although blacked out with radio dials replacing his pupils, easily exhibited his true emotions as excitement glimmered through them; the same excitement that made your cunt clench around nothing. As Alastor offered you his hand, you gladly surrendered your own hand into his clawed palm as he had non-verbally requested, allowing him to pull you towards him before he placed a soft kiss against your dorsal.

Though, despite the sweet gesture, the green chain that proved who your soul belonged to conjured around the delicacy of your throat; reminding you that not only did your heart belong to Alastor, but your entire being too, before he dragged you to stand between his legs.

Choking as the phantom chain grasped your neck, you moaned. Alastor knew how much of a masochist you were, and he, not only your husband, but your sadist, loved to please you into screams of pain. Clenching your thighs together as you waited for your husbands next move, one of his clawed fingertips ran up your thigh, teasing up until it pressurised against your clothed folds, and before you could softly cry out in pleasure, Alastors finger retracted, only for it to shred your clothes in two pieces from a single swipe.

Without reacting, your body became flushed as Alastor admired your nude form; you were very used to your husband ripping your clothes off like he had a kink for it. Stilling in your position, you panted as you contemplated on what he would do next, what his course of action would be. “Would you like your husband to spank you like the little promiscuous wife you are?” He asked you with a shit eating smirk, as if he had access to the thoughts that swarmed your mind. His eyes were still blacked out, waiting for your response as arousal flickered within them; you didn’t need to see the bulge growing underneath his clothes to perceive his growing intoxication.

“Yes.” You whispered in a moan as your thighs rubbed against one another, begging for your red and evil husband to inflict any type of pain onto you for your own sexual pleasure as you looked at him with pure lust; pure love.

His smile etched further, almost condescendingly as his eyes narrowed in on you, giving you a look that indicated you were forgetting something. “Yes, what?”

“Yes, Sir.” You mumbled ever so seductively as it clicked in your mind; Alastor had always had a fetish for you screaming for him as you called him Sir, you knew how much he got off on it as you prayed for his divine punishment to embrace your skin, flesh and soul.

“You know what to do, my perfect little wife.” His words echoed into the room, commanding you to bend yourself over in his lap without explicitly saying it; and you did. And as always, you purposefully made sure to face your ass in the direction of his dominant hand as you crawled into his lap sideways. It gave your husband the ability to admire the backside of your body, the same body he loved to pleasure with pain.

Whining ever so softly, his hands gently caressed the skin of your ass, massaging the succulent and luscious part of your body; and without warning, Alastor’s hand struck against your rear, jolting a sharp pain through you that had you moaning a gasped whine as pleasure consumed you from the infliction. “Sir-” The word slipped from your tongue so erotically as Alastor’s hand hit down against you again; you could feel his cock prod against your stomach as he continued his assault, your cries of pleasure echoing throughout the room as each hit increased in harshness, the sounds of his hand coming down on you shrieking through the room, exceeding your own pants of cries in volume.

Suddenly, his other hand gripped the front of your throat as he made your spine arch backwards, forcing you to look at him in the blackness of his eyes as he continued his beating on your sore rear. “You’re such a good wife aren’t you darling? And all mine too; say it.”

As he slapped over the imprints of his previous inflictions, a sharp pleasurable pain echoed throughout your body as you moaned out his request, crying out in pleasure how you were his; all his, only his, always his. You could hear how proud he was, how elated he was from hearing those words leave the chambers of your mouth as he landed a final harsh slap against you that had a scream ripping through your oesophagus.

“Thank you, sir.” You moaned with a pant as Alastor caringly smoothed his palm over the harsh imprints on your ass, soothing you ever so softly before he lifted you body up by your neck; forcing a choked gasp to be ripped from you as he forced your form to sit on his lap, compelling you to face him with the help of his black appendages that he conjured from the floorboards.

“You’re very welcome, my beautiful wife.” Alastor whispered as his hand clutched harder around your neck; his dominant hand forcing you to moan as his fingers suddenly teased your clit, circling it with the exact same sensation that Alastor had learnt was your favourite; the same one that made you moaning like a common whore.

Leaning into you, Alastor placed his lips against yours, kissing you with passion as he massaged your throbbing bud, it was sweet, a sweetness to be short lives as he began to squeeze your clit with such pressure it had you gasping in the kiss, unknowingly giving him the opportunity to shove his tongue down your throat; purposefully prolonging it as to make sure it went down into the gummy flesh of your oesophagus.

You became lust drunk; the afterglow of having your rear assaulted, the mind numbing pleasure your husband was placing onto your clit as he held your neck tight, all whilst fucking your throat with his tongue. It was almost too much; but you were a good wife for Alastor, you always would be, and you would take everything he gave you with pleasure and enthusiasm.

Groaning as your husband’s fingers left your clit, only to tease the folds of your opening, you vibrated his tongue deep into your throat, earning a sexual growl to emit from Alastor as he continued to overwhelm you. Pulling away, you began to pant as he retracted his tongue from you, only to penetrate his overly sharp claws into your cunt; the sheer intensity of his talons began to wound you from the inside, causing streams of blood to soak your husbands hand as he causing physical scars within your core. A balance of pain and pleasure cried from your lips as tears emerged from your eyes, threatening to leave the contents of your visual organs as he continued to purposefully cause infliction within you.

“Be a good girl and ride my fingers, darling.” His smile never faltered as he watched your tears slowly stream down your cheeks. Slowly, you obeyed as your hips began moving, gyrating against your husbands hand as you relished in the painful pleasure he fucked into you. Stabilising yourself, your hands reached out to his growing antlers; something you knew was pleasurable to him, attempting to balance yourself as you rode yourself against his hand.

“Yes, sir.” You managed to moan as you complied, the dials in his eyes flickering to your cunt as he watched you bounce on his palm; your blood smearing against his metacarpus, as well as your own folds and thighs as you continued to allow him to create new wounds inside you with every bounce you made.

Your rhythm hastened as you savoured each painful infliction made against you as Alastor’s hand that previously was placed on your neck began to grip onto your chest; his claws tearing into your flesh as he dragged his talons down; forcing slightly deep open wounds to rip your dermis apart. You screamed, not only from the pain, but from the sudden forced orgasm that ejected from your cunt; your husband's hand milking it out of you as it mixed in with the fluids of your blood. It was something you weren’t expecting at all, especially since you hadn’t even felt a build up of your release before it was inevitably ripped from you.

A true masochist; cumming from your husband’s assault over the pleasure he was enacting on you.

You could feel Alastors grin tighten in glee as he watched your face contort whilst you cummed all over his hand; your eyes rolling back as your mouth gaped, his fingers still inside of you as you halted your bouncing to experience your orgasm, twitching your hips and thighs ever so slightly as you did. Although he was a sadist, and loved inflicting pain on you, your pleasure was much more desired. He craved to see you so prettily satisfied.

As your orgasm ended, his fingers retracted from your cunt before he licked the stream of blood from his weaponised fingers; your eye half lidded as your face flushed from watching him lick up your blood and cum before he kissed you ever so slightly with red stained lubricated lips; smearing your own fluids against your mouth. As you allowed his tongue to enter your mouth once more, tasting your own essence on your tongue, black conjured appendages gripped the contents of your body from your thighs to your biceps, only to throw you against the blankets that covered the bed you shared with your husband.

Looking over to him, you watched as he began the process of taking his suit off his build. Biting your lip as you watched him undress himself to inevitably fuck his heavy sex into you, you opened your legs wide so he could witness the bloodied crime scene he had created inside your cunt; his breath hitching as he watched you display yourself for him.

Unzipping his suit pants, he allowed his heavy and large cock to weigh down as it erected from the confines of his clothes. You could only anticipate him as he etched himself closer and closer toward you, your vision only fixated on your husband’s very throbbing, very angry sex as it leaked spouts of his acidic precum before his arms entrapped you form into the bed.

As he looked at you longingly, asking for permission to ravish you, you wrapped your arms around his neck before pulling his body against yours, giving him a soft kiss as you encased his hips with your legs, securing him against you before you guided him to enter you.

Using your blood as lubricant, he slid his member inside of you with ease, filling your cunt up with that ridiculously fat cock of his that always hit every nerve within you, always making you cry out a moan; yet this time, his cock scraped against the raw wounds inside you, adding a new found painful pleasure into the mix as he began to pound his cock inside you without remorse. It was so contrasting but so good; his cock sliding in and out of you with his rough pace, each thrust causing your open wounds to shriek in pain as he pummelled you. You felt so dizzy, so sexually satisfied as he fed you with not only the pleasure of his cock, the pain you desired immensely.

Alastor fucked you into the mattress, forcing the bed to creak with every relentless thrust. You wondered if he was doing it on purpose, and when the bed began to bang against the wall from his intensity, you knew he was; the slamming of the bed conveyed to everyone you were his, only his.

His pace was unforgiving, harsh and rough, you genuinely believe he was planning on breaking the bed with how purposefully hard he fucked you. You couldn’t prevent the screams that ripped from your throat as his cock pushed against the opening of your cervix with every thrust he made, massaging each little wound as he pummelled himself inside of you. “That right; scream for me as I fuck you.” His words were laced with pure ownership, dominance, the need to consume who you were and let everyone know that you were his and his alone. “Scream so that stupid king of hell knows who you belong to.” His voice glitched with static as his eyes began to bleed whilst he fucked you hard.

As you began to scream for him to go harder, to hurt you more, his form began to grow ever so slightly as his weight, along with the sheer force he was fucking into you made the bed to snap in half, causing a loud and awkward amount of noise to echo throughout the hotel; but Alastor didn’t stop. No, he continued to fuck you as though it had never happened.

Crying out from his size, your thighs began to shake, and before you could be graced with a second orgasm, Alastor’s cock left the confines of your cunt, only to groan out as his cock squirted your stomach, chest and face with his acidic cum.

Whining from his cum that covered you, and the disappointment of not being able to cum on his cock, your husband only chuckled at you.

“Don’t worry, my beautiful wife, I’ll make you cum as many times as you want; just keep telling me you’re all mine.”

Sorry if it's bad I was in a rush OKAY BYEEE

#alastor x reader #alastor x you #alastor #hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel x reader #reader insert #hazbin hotel #x reader #alastor x reader smut #alastor smut

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byoldervine · 9 months

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How To Always Have Writing Ideas…

For A New Story:

1. Keep a list. Any time you have one of those sudden bursts of inspiration in the middle of writing a separate story, don’t quit your current WIP or pretend you’ll ‘just remember it’, put it into a separate list. You can always go back to this later on

2. Writing prompts. Look them up, use random word generators, pick a random object you can see, whatever helps you come up with any idea at all. Write a few paragraphs. Can it evolve from there?

3. People watch. Go to a public place and make up backstories for the strangers you come across. That man in the hat is using it to hide his elf ears. That woman with the bright pink hair didn’t dye it, she’s secretly the main character of an anime trying to dodge all the tropes and cliches. That toddler is actually a guardian angel reincarnated to watch over their new baby sibling. What brings them to this place? Where did they come from? Where are they going next?

To Continue An Existing Story:

1. Act it out. Say the words aloud, act out what your characters are doing, get props or people to act off of if you need to. See what feels like the most natural progression of the moment

2. Coffee shop AU, or other substitutional one-shot. Good for establishing dynamics between two or more characters, or even just working out a lone character’s day-to-day. Just write a few paragraphs about your characters entering a coffee shop or similar appropriate establishment/ordinary location. What do they do? What do they order to eat/drink? What do they say to each other? How do they treat the staff and other customers? If all else fails, write what they do after they leave, as if it were an ordinary day for them

3. Rubber duck it. This is something programmers use to work out where they went wrong in their code, but I’ve found it can work for figuring out story stuff as well. What you do is get a rubber duck, or any other object of focus, and start explaining your problem to it out loud. In this case you can read your chapter to the duck, or even give it the full run-down of the plot so far. Warning; side effects may include getting frustrated that the problem was right in front of you and subsequently throwing the duck

For Both:

1. Writing graveyards. I talked a bit about them in a previous post, but writing graveyards are basically just the folder you store your deleted scenes in instead of yeeting them into the void. Reread those, see if they have anything you can recontextualise or repurpose

2. Combine ideas. My WIP Byoldervine is a combination of two separate plots I had that I realised I’d be able to combine - twice. I first realised I could put together my ‘angel and demon heroes protecting humans from a war between heaven and hell’ story and my ‘quest through the fantasy realm to find the ingredients to a cure for a dying god’ story into the same universe as two sides of the same story as a duology. Then I realised I could just remove a few characters, tweak a few plot points and mash them completely together into one book. Combining them works wonders and minimises worldbuilding

3. Go out with friends or family. I guarantee that the one time you’ll be flooded with inspiration is when you don’t have an opportunity to write it down

#writing #writers #bookblr #writeblr #book #writersociety #writersnetwork #writers of tumblr #writer #writing advice #on writing #writing inspiration #writing tips #writing tips and tricks #writers on tumblr #writerscommunity

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