#fingers crossed its coherent

[blueskittlesart]

*sigh* thoughts on Nintendo's botw/totk timeline shenanigans and tomfoolery?

tbh. my maybe-unpopular opinion is that the timeline is only important when a game's place on the timeline seriously informs the way their narrative progresses. the problem is that before botw we almost NEVER got games where it didn't matter. it matters for skyward sword because it's the beginning, and it matters for tp/ww/alttp (and their respective sequels) because the choices the hero of time makes explicitly inform the narrative of those games in one way or another. it matters which timeline we're in for those games because these cycles we're seeing are close enough to oot's cycle that they're still feeling the effects of his choices. botw, however, takes place at minimum 10 thousand years after oot, so its place on the timeline actually functionally means nothing. botw is completely divorced from the hero of time & his story, so what he does is a nonissue in the context of botw link and zelda's story. thus, which timeline botw happens in is a nonissue. honestly I kind of liked the idea that it happened in all of them. i think there's a cool idea of inevitability that can be played with there. but the point is that the timeline exists to enhance and fill in the lore of games that need it, and botw/totk don't really need it because the devs finally realized they could make a game without the hero of time in it.

[beepboopappreciation]

Shout-out to super boxy harsh-edged computers. Love the 90° angles. Absolutely cheering about the corners. No smooth curves, all square, baby. So much rectangular rizz in them thangs.

[mashed4077]

there are very few characters i'd say this about, i like a lot of shitty little guys but i'm always critical of them and am happy to hold them accountable for their bullshit (and mentally beat them with a stick), but i'm legitimately a frank burns apologist. he's literally so emotionally immature and he's got a child-like understanding of so many things, i don't think he's put any thought whatsoever into the bullshit he says, he doesn't even notice that his opinions piss people off so it's not even like he's intentionally being a piece of shit for attention - he legitimately doesn't seem to know better, he's operating entirely on ignorance and gullibility.

frank's a character who's desperate to do what he's been told he's supposed to do, and what a person's feels they're 'supposed' to do is entirely dependent on what they've been taught is right. sometimes we develop different morals, independent of what our childhoods taught us, but a lot of the time, we really internalize values we were taught as kids. i'm sure hawkeye's father is the one who taught him that freedom, individuality, authenticity, empathy, and humanity are crucial, and that influenced hawkeye's need to do what's right when it comes to making sure people don't get mistreated or exploited. frank, on the other hand, was taught the exact opposite, not unlike margaret - individuality and freedom aren't important; you fall in line, and you do your duty. for frank, that's marrying a woman he doesn't like, having three kids he doesn't seem to really care for, becoming a doctor even though he didn't want to.

we can see what frank genuinely does value / want in the two things he actually consistently seems passionate about; margaret (his only friend; someone who bolsters him, enables him, is typically on the same page as him, seems to accept him, treats him kindly for once), and money - and i see frank's greed as less about wanting more, more, more, and more about security, about the status symbols and the fact that when he has them, that means he's done well, that he's doing what he's supposed to do, that he's a success in the eyes of the traditional world he's been brought up in. that's why he brags about owning his own practice, why he brags about his 30,000 dollar house and two cars (or was it a 30,000 dollar car and two houses?), why (iirc) he brings up being a member of a country club - these are things he's been told he should covet, things he's been told are a point of pride, but they don't actually make him happy in any way. but he values money because it lets him have these things, and then he can exist safely in his repressed, deluded little bubble where it's enough.

and it's why he won't let his wife go; we know frank had a rough childhood, we know he does deal with insecurity on the very very rare occasion he lets himself reflect on anything. i don't think it's a stretch to say that on some level, frank feels defective. people don't like him and he doesn't seem to know why, his parents and his brother didn't really like him and he doesn't know why, his wife and kids don't seem to like him and he doesn't know why. as i said, frank's pretty repressed and deluded, but he does have a few vulnerable moments that show he's aware of this, and it bugs him. he wants to fit in. he wants to be liked. he does fit in, on a surface level, back home in indiana, amongst the other conservative morons he associates with. nobody really likes him there either, but he's got everything everyone else has (or better!), which renders him acceptable, respectable, which is what he's been told the goal is. and then he can pretend that's enough, because it's easier to be accepted than it is to be liked, and he knows the steps to win acceptance (at least with that crowd), but the secret to being liked, to forming connections, eludes him. he really doesn't know what he's doing wrong there. which, i read frank as autistic and i get that, and i feel for him on it, i really do. it's so alienating to feel like you're just missing something everyone else seems to have come built with.

i didn't finish my thought; he can't let his wife go even though he's unhappy with her because it'd unravel his security. it'd ruin that illusion of "i've made it, i've got a wife and kids and a great job like i'm supposed to, therefore i'm not defective!" he'd lose the identity of being a husband like he thinks a proper 1950s man should be, he'd lose the financial security of being middle-upper class. he'd become several things he's been taught to look down upon, things that would make him Bad, that would affirm that he's defective.

and you know what? all of this is why hawkeye bothers him so much. hawkeye's free from all the shackles frank's willingly entrapped himself in. he's unmarried, he's eccentric and fairly openly neurodivergent in his behavior, he loudly and obnoxiously plays freely with sexuality and gender. these are all things frank's been told are bad, and evil, and worse, they're things that exist inside frank that he's terrified of. frank's canonically queer, people don't like to acknowledge it because they hate him, but hating a queer character doesn't make them any less gay kjdfhdk. and the show plays with gender with him a bit, too. and he's threatened by hawkeye, hell, and by klinger too. when he's back home, he doesn't have to associate with people like them, so it's a distant concept, such deviancy, and he can try to forget the parts of himself that he can't seem to temper, no matter how wrong he's been told they are. but when it's right in front of him, it's that terrifying reminder.

and worse - they're happier than he is. i mean, they're still at war, they're not that happy, but they're free in themselves, they have fun, they get to experience joy because they let themselves, because they haven't been taught that doing your duty as an American Man is of the utmost importance and that there's very rigid guidelines to that and having any fun outside of that is unacceptable and wrong. and i think on some level he does envy that.

idek what i'm babbling about anymore, but yeah, i just find it hard to hold frank responsible. i think he's a victim of middle america. i think he simply had the misfortune of being a queer autistic man born into that world, into a world that wasn't built for people like him, that inherently sees him as lesser, and he's so overcompensatory in his behavior to prove that he can do it, that he can be what he's supposed to be. his political values are because he's desperate for rules, guidelines, and a sense of order in what he perceives as a hostile world that he's not equipped to deal with, let alone thrive in, because he's also well aware he's not the strong masculine figure he ought to be, and he's merely doing a bad impersonation of one. that's frank in general, really; he's so desperately trying to fit into a mold that simply doesn't match his shape. i think if he escaped all that, it'd be a good start in him being better all around. of course, his political alignment isn't his only problem, he's got a lot of other shit going on, but it's the main thing i see him condemned for. he's also toxic as hell, and i think that environment only enables him.

within the show, i don't think redeeming frank would've been a good idea and i'm glad they didn't (although i also have a lot of issues with the way his arc ended and the way he was written in s5 in general but i digress) - but i don't think it'd be impossible. i don't even think it'd be hard. he just needs to be told that it's okay to be an individual, that he doesn't have to keep trying to fit himself into a pre-existing mold that wasn't built for him when he can simply build one for himself that he actually fits and is happy in. and that's why he's just pathetic and tragic to me, rather than genuinely unlikeable; he doesn't even know what he likes, what would make him happy. he doesn't even have a sense of self. it's just sad, and i can't hate him for it.

[lightwing-s]

𝐒𝐄𝐂𝐑𝐄𝐓 𝐇𝐀𝐕𝐄𝐍

pairing: simon "ghost" riley x reader

It must’ve been early when the knocking woke you up. Rolling in the warmth of the bed, you struggled to get up and once you did, you walked towards the door on pure muscle memory, still too tired to proceed with any coherent thoughts.

You opened it automatically, rubbing your heavy eyes and letting out a yawn.

“Ghost, Price and I were thinking that maybe…” you heard a voice you faintly remembered blurt out words you vaguely put together. “Yn? What are you doing in Simon's room?”

Freezing at the spot, your eyes dart open, as wide as they could possibly be, and a burst of energy runs through your body, making your mind jolt alight, finally deciding to work.

“Fuck.” you whisper, as you could hear the sound of objects falling and stumbling steps rushing to your side. Simon, still shirtless, holding up his loose sweatpants and whose mask had been clumsy put on, only one of his eyes properly fitting through it’s proper hole, arrived beside you breathlessly, pulling Gaz into the room and closing the door immediately thereafter.

Pushing the Sergeant onto the unmade bed, it took him a moment to catch his breath, spinning around on the same spot on the floor. He had fixed his mask, and the moment his eyes caught yours you could clearly understand his message.

We’re fucked.

Your eyes were restless, moving from Simon and Gaz so quickly it was making you dizzy. Your hands tugged at Simon’s shirt, dressing you like a dress, but barely covering your legs, ones you were not used to exposing in front of your comrades.

It was awkward, this whole situation an awkward mess you had put you all in.

I’m sorry, you mouthed and pleaded with your eyes as Simon stopped in front of you, his hands reaching for your arm, rubbing it warm, consoling you as much as he could as you two sulked in unwanted company.

“Can you two explain what’s going on?” asked your “guest”. Exchanging glances once more, you two fought over who would break him the news. “Or am I supposed to make my own conclusions?”

“‘S pretty obvious, innit?” Simon replied, dryly.

“I wanted to hear it from you, it looks too surreal.” he said, leaning back and straightening his position, a smirk spreading on his face, amusement evident in his eyes. “The Lt and Yn shagging.”

You looked back at Simon once more, his arms crossed on his chest making his biceps look twice their size, and his clear crunched jawline, probably planning three hundred different ways to murder his teammate. Touching his shoulder, you asked for allowance, watching as he considered the options before nodding in return.

“Gaz.” you called, catching his attention. “We’re married.”

Gaz’s head bobbed forward as his eyes almost jumped out of its socket, questioning the shocking news and his own reality. To confirm your words, showed him your hands, more specifically your ring finger, where a pair of letters, ‘SR’, were tattooed secretly on its side. The Lieutenant followed suit, uncrossing his arms to expose your initials drawn on the same spot in his ring finger. 

You two were married. Married, and no one in the base knew it. Hell, they didn’t even know you two had a thing for each other, was going through Gaz’s mind.

“Married?” he repeated, more an affirmation than a question, trying to process it in his head. “I can’t wait till Johnny knows it.”

“Johnny can’t know it.” you immediately cut him. “Please, Gaz. I-it’s…” private, you wanted to add, our lives. But a lump in your throat caught you, feeling everything you’d build crumbling down. 

You’d been so careful. You and Simon had taken every possible precaution since the first night you hooked up, not wanting anyone to find out your silly “mistake”, to the day of your wedding two years ago, the most important day in your entire life. And now the secret was done for, days counted even if Gaz were kind enough to keep it to himself.

“Private.” Gaz completed your words after a brief minute of silence, and the hope in your chest grew. “I get it. You know I’m not a snitch.” Standing up, he continued. “Your secret is safe with me.” and extending his hand towards your husband he wished. “Congratulations, Simon.”

Your husband, after second thoughts, shook Gaz’s hand in his, evident force used to make sure a warning was heard: you say anything, you’re dead. However, knowing him like no one else, you notice signs no one would, and the slight drop in his shoulder lets you know he trusted his Sergeant.

“Congratulations you too, Yn.” he turned to you, giving you a tight hug instead, lifting you off your feet for a brief moment before returning you to the floor. “Does this make me the best man over Johnny?”

Fishing for a pillow, Simon threw it straight into Gaz’s head as he rushed out of your room, giggles heading out with him. You too stood laughing, enjoying knowing your secret paradise wasn’t done for yet, and trying to calm down your sulking and annoyed husband.

.

a/n: short drabble to announce i'm now taking simon and other cod men requests ♡

[screampied]

Can you do Kinji Hakari making shy reader not be ashamed of her moans by making her squirt😏🙏

Btw, you’re doing god’s work by blessing us with the works of underrated minor characters🙇‍♀️

❤︎ ໋𓈒 hakari making his shy girl squirt

warnings. fem! reader, praise, squirting, reverse cowgirl, breath play, overstim, mdni.

“ya gotta learn how to relaaaax, sweetheart,” he purrs in a soft raspy voice. you were so close up against him — his chest practically pressed up near your back. forever entangled with his warmth, his shaft buried right between your walls. riding him in reverse, yet except you were smushed right up beside hum. hakari brings a rough hand towards your hips, guiding you to give him yet another mind-boggling orgasm. “i know, girl. ‘s coming close isn’t it? she’s gonna make another mess right up on me.”

you moaned, puffs of his breath fanning against your earlobe. hakari briefly nibbled on it before chuckling.

he found it cute how just a little trail of his fingers skimming down your thighs made you drench even more. your grip was tantalizingly deadly to him, for a moment it makes his jaw tighten. you felt an orgasm approaching, yet this time it felt a bit different.

“ha—kariiii,” you’d drag out. he smiles, watching you desperately try to conceal those sweet moans from his ear. although to him, it was one of his favorite things to listen to. the sound of your voice, it made him throb any day. “feel somethin’ else, fuck.”

his slit eyebrows furrow before he chuckles to himself. within an instant, he knew what that something else was. hakari wraps a bulky arm around your neck gingerly, another hand reaching down towards between your legs. “ooh,” he whispers against your ear, and you whimper once he brings a hand towards your clit to give it a few playful smacks. “you gonna squirt on me? dirty girl,” and then he hums before setting your hips in place with one hand. “say pretty please though. if you wanna be filthy, ya gotta have manners, no?”

you were babbling at this point, mere sounds of straight coherent babbles spewing out of your spit glossed lips.

it was adorable, the way your head jerked back against him — your legs were sprawled a bit, and your breathing significantly hitched. you were chasing your breath, feeling that familiar feeling rise up inside of you.

with stupidly crossed eyes, you felt your tongue gradually loll out of your mouth. hakari chortles, bringing a hand that was just rubbing against your cunt and brings his fingers into your mouth. without question, you taste yourself. “such a sloppy mouth,” he groans, feeling you nearly drain his balls out.

he was incredibly hefty too, slamming in and out of you . . yet you were doing all the work. at least, you were trying to.

your legs were just about ready to give out and hakari was guiding your hips to its inevitable release.

“damn girl,” he’d suck in a breath, feeling the way you used your hips to slowly grind against him. your rhythm, it was so sensual — so smooth. it had his mind going for a loop, his touch sent shivers down your spine entirely. “i wanna hear you,” he murmurs, pulling his now dampened fingers out of your mouth. a pretty cobweb of spit exits out of your lips in the process, and with hooded eyes, you moan. “get a little louder for me.”

such sweet whimpers coax out the back of your throat, and you’re so sensitive. his fat cock reached everywhere, in spots that had your knees practically bucking.

unhurriedly, you continue to shift your weight against him — pant after pant sliding past your lips. “gonna m-make a mess,” you’d sniffle, just feeling yourself start to tremor. your cunt was so vocal too, squelching out little noises of itself. it was an entire lewd site.

the smell of hakari’s loud yet intoxicating cologne scent filled up your senses every few seconds. each time you thwacked against his back from your movements, you’d take a quick whiff and get wet simply from how good he smelled.

he brings two rough hands towards your waist again before nipping at your neck. “show me how messy you can really get then, princess,” he utters in a low tone. you felt your cunt throb at his words, the way he delivered it. the raspiness that hid underneath it and all. you whined, feeling yourself building up.

oh, the build up of it all.

it had you weak. by this point, your walls were being dragged through and through. you had so much leverage in this current position, although you couldn’t see his face — you’d bet money he had the biggest smug expression imaginable.

hakari always loved your tempo, it wasn’t too fast or too slow. it was just right.

he’s nearly out of breath himself, but he keeps composure. unlike you, you were just about ready to burst. the entire angle of it all too, he reached so deep. his rounded tip lightly thrashed against your cunt each bounce you made. you rode him until this current point to where your knees were just about going limp. not so much your knees but the entirety of your cute thighs.

he likes to trail a finger down the outline of your back while you ride him. with this view, he enjoys this glimpse — your tense back muscles lightly moving in the same motion of your thrusts against him. with a sly lip bite, he drags a hand between your legs again.

“come on girl, don’t hide those moans from me.” he’d purr against your ear, and he consciously makes you slow down with an arm wrapping around your waist. hakari’s body heat that radiated on you made you ten times more coddled up in your own warmth. with his fat tip brushing against your g-spot, you whimpered before feeling a sudden gush.

he was stuffed deep into your cunt, and the moment you squirt it was so lewd. a salacious experience everything, it was a lot. you were ten times more embarrassed now, feeling yourself dampen him even more with your slick arousal.

“k-kari,” you’d huff out, and the sensation was indescribable. he pauses for a moment before nipping against at your neck. “oh my godddd.”

“such a messy girl i got here,” he’d whisper in a husky voice — two lengthy fingers going straight towards your slit. with his dick still hidden inside of your folds, he pulls out and watches the mess pour right onto him. “good girl,” he huffs out, watching your entire body tremble as a response. the orgasm made you swallow thickly, yet you craved more. hakari skims his fingers on the outside part of your pussy before spreading it open with a sly smile. “a bit too messy though. should make ya clean my lap up with that pretty tongue of yours.”

[moneypowerglorymiddleofmiami]

— trickentine જ⁀➴♡ pt.2

pairing: luke castellan x aphrodite!reader

summary: after lord eros' silly little trick, you're now forced to deal with the consequences— more specifically, in the form of a lovestruck luke castellan.

warnings: tons of corny pick-up lines

genre: still very much a romcom

part 1

note: thank you, thank you! all your support for pt.1 means the world to me! really, i couldn't be more grateful 𖹭 i hope you think this brings justice to the first half 𖹭

─── ° ᡣ𐭩 . ° . ───

“What do you mean you can’t do anything?” You suppressed the urge to shriek, settling for gritted emphasis instead. You crossed your arms across your chest, your foot tapping impatiently against the wooden floorboards of the Big House.

“Exactly what it means.” Chiron responded, looking at Luke with more amusement rather than concern.

“But he's under a spell,” You reasoned in disbelief. You might have spilled over your words while you explained the rundown to Chiron, but they were coherent enough to at least get that point across.

“It’ll wear off eventually, kid.” Mr. D downed an entire can of diet soda in one go before procuring another one in his outstretched hand. He snickered at the intent puppy eyes Luke was giving you. “That type of love magic won’t last long. Best to let it run its course than tamper with it.”

“But–” You wanted to argue before Mr. D stopped you. He pushed his feet up on his desk.

“Look, at least this proves that your boyfriend actually loves you.” He gave you a pointed look. What does that even mean? “Now, leave.”

You huffed indignantly, but decided against speaking further. You begrudgingly turned around and pulled Luke up by his arm, guiding him towards the narrow hallway that led to the foyer.

“When did I become your boyfriend?” Luke huddled closer to you, whispering as you made your way to the front door.

“You didn’t.” You told him plainly. You shook your head. “You aren’t.”

“Yet.” He responded, his tone a bit mischievous but his gaze sure and determined.

─── ° ᡣ𐭩 . ° . ───

You leaned your elbows against the table of the crowded Arts and Crafts Center, your chin resting against the pad of your thumbs. You studied Luke with a contemplating gaze.

“I hit you with one of Eros’ arrows.” You told him. This was hardly the proper place to have this conversation, but the rest of the Aphrodite cabin practically hauled you to the building to begin Valentinkering? Valenmaking? (whatever in Tartarus they decided to call it this year).

“Well, I guess you could say I’ve been lovestruck by you.” He said, giving you a stupid little wink as he mirrored your posture.

“Gods, Luke. That was corny as hell.” You flushed almost as crimson as the container of beads in front of you. “Also, I’m serious.”

“And who said I wasn’t?” He challenged. He smirked against his fist, wiggling his eyebrows.

You snorted. “The fact that you’re under some valentine voodoo makes all your intentions questionable.”

“You wound me.” He feigned offense, pouting as he clutched at the fabric of his shirt above his chest. “To be fair, my train of thought has always been questionable when it comes to you.”

“Again: unimpressed.” You buried your face into your hands, the second hand embarrassment of his poor attempt at flirting was overwhelmingly potent. Besides, it was difficult not to react when he looked at you so intently, like he was trying to memorize every minute detail of you.

“On a more serious note, I do remember the whole arrow thing.” He told you, his lips pursed. “I don’t blame you; it was a complete accident. It just feels… odd.”

Your ears perked up, worried. “You feel odd?”

“No,” He shook his head. His expression was perplexed, maybe a bit incredulous too. “That’s the thing. I feel completely normal.”

“That is weird.” You agree. You wrap the string in between your fingers around his wrist, measuring it to his size. "Maybe it was just a prank?"

“No. If anything, it’s more like I can’t hold my tongue.” He shrugs. “I can’t help but say what I think.”

“Would that explain the flirting?” You tease. All cheeky, but with a hint of curiosity hidden beneath the humor.

He leaned in, smirking. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

You stare at him, tilting your head. He returns your gaze just as intensely, brown eyes fixed onto yours. He raises an eyebrow as if to question your silence. There was something magnetic between the two of you, pulsing and pulling you closer— maybe not physically, but definitely in other ways unbeknownst to you.

“Woah!” Percy exclaimed with an accusatory edge to his tone, his eyebrows furrowed in disbelief and his palms raised as if to distance himself from you. “Respect for the children, maybe? Consider shielding my young impressionable eyes from this trauma?”

“Percy!” You squeaked rather uncharacteristically. Annabeth trailed behind closely, pushing a leg over the bench to sit beside you. You smiled at her, tugging her closer by placing your arm around her shoulders.

“Annabeth,” Luke called. “Trade places with me.”

Annabeth furrowed her eyebrows in confusion before narrowing her eyes in suspicion. “No.”

“Come on.” He persisted. He leaned in, almost conspiratorial. “You know, the Stoll brothers have an extensive archive, and I think I may have heard word of them having that Rem Kolhaas book you've been raving about."

Annabeth stopped to consider the offer before ultimately conceding. She stood up from her seat. “That’s a big bribe for a small favor.”

“Know what prices to pay to win your battles.” Luke muttered as he sidled up next to you, grinning triumphantly. His fingers played with the hem of your weathered camp shirt. “Sacrifices aren’t much in the face of victory.”

“Did you just use a bad battle strategy as a flirting tactic?” Annabeth scrunched her nose in distaste. “Gross.”

"Done." You finish tying up the ends, letting the red bracelet dangle in Luke's line of vision.

"It looks so pretty, baby." He compliments you, holding out his wrist. You proudly put it on for him. "Not as pretty as you though."

You scoff. Both Annabeth and Percy imitate gagging noises.

─── ° ᡣ𐭩 . ° . ───

The only time you ever truly left each other’s side were the few moments of reprieve before dinner where you’d returned to your cabins. The older campers insisted on making the meal a whole affair, complete with a romantic candlelit set-up and a string quartet to serenade everyone. Chiron decided to indulge the request and sent everyone back to freshen up.

“Have fun with your boyfriend?”

“Christ!” You jumped in your spot, turning around to see Eros laying on one of the bunks. His arms were tucked underneath his head, his smile suggestive and knowing.

“Lord Eros,” You bowed.

“That is not your shade.” He tutted, pointing to the tinted gloss in your hand. “Too summery for your complexion this time of year. Go for the pink one. He’ll go berserk.”

“Thanks.” You muttered, facing your vanity once more. You dabbed the product against your lips. You sighed as you inspected your make-up. Once more, he was right.

“You didn’t answer my question.” He shifted to his side, looking at you expectantly.

“Yeah, I guess.” You grumbled. You looked down, pretending to look for something in your drawer so he wouldn’t notice the blush creeping up your cheeks. Luke refused to leave your side the entire day— his fingers hooked around the belt hoops of your skirt in one way or another. He made a whole spectacle of it too: his big brown eyes tender, his wistful sighs, his shy grins, his playful winks.

“Good.” He clapped his hands. “Gods, the boy has had a crush on you for forever, you know. It was torture watching him pine over you. I can only take so much longing.”

You froze, staring at him through the mirror. He stared back at you.

“What?”

“Don’t tell me you didn’t know,” He sounded shocked; he was shocked. “You’re a daughter of Aphrodite, how could you not know?! That's like our thing!”

“Well, he hasn’t been obvious, has he?” You rebutted, flicking your wrist.

“Sis, I don’t know what reality you’re living in,” He sat up on the bed, “But that boy wouldn’t know subtle even if it hit him in the face.”

“But surely it’s just because of the arrows.” You rationalized.

“Nuh uh.” He wiggles a finger in the air to deny the accusation. “The arrows you used just accentuate pre-existing feelings. Not make new ones.”

A knock interrupts your conversation. You hurry to fix your hair, brushing it out of the way. Your hands begin to shake with giddy excitement. You feel your heart thrum strongly against your chest, almost wanting to burst out from the confines of your body and find its other half in Luke. Your smile eventually becomes hard to contain.

Eros beams at you, his pupils dilating into hearts again like it did this morning. He opens the door for you and pushes you out. “Have fun with lover boy. Mother sends her regards.”

Luke spins around at the sound of the squeaky hinges. He can't help but pull a hand out of his pocket, his palm lightly grazing his chest. He whistles. “Call me favored by the gods because I think I’ve just entered Elysium.”

“You’ve been with me the whole day.” You responded pointedly, breathless and in love.

“And yet you still manage to take my breath away.” He gasps when you rush into him, wrapping your arms around his nape.

“This is new.” He looks down at you, your noses touching. His hands fall naturally to your hips, his thumbs rubbing against the fabric of your dress. “But definitely welcome.”

You gaze into his eyes before pressing your lips against his. They felt pleasant and pliant against your own. You tugged Luke closer, your fingers twirling through his curls. His hands squeezed your skin. The kiss burned sweetly, almost as if it’s been waiting in anticipation to happen.

When you both separate for air, Luke gently grabs your hands from behind him. He wraps his fists around yours, placing soft kisses on your knuckles. “I’ve been waiting so long for that.”

“So I’ve been told.” You hum. “I figured I might take the first step.”

“Don’t worry.” He presses another kiss against your lips, short and sweet. “I promise to match your pace the rest of the way.”

˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺

taglist: @ace-spades-1 @patitotodd @fandomthings-blog @bugcuti3 @liv1104 @mindflay3r

[starhotchgf]

A innocent Woman

Y/N is a virgin woman at 29 years old, but she never imagined that a gift from her best friend would make her get fucked by her co-worker, with whom she also shares an apartment. But I wouldn't be able to complain about the feeling of being completely ruined by the genius Spencer Reid.

warnings: use of toys, use of pet names, rough sex, overstimulation, unprotected sex (don't do it), squirting and brief voyeur.

English is not my first language, so forgive any mistakes!

ps: Penelope is the best friend in the whole world.

Y/N was a virgin and that was a secret that only her best friend Penelope knew. She had known for less than a week, but she was still the only one who knew it besides her mother, who didn't act like a conservative mother like the others, because she was always trying to arrange sexual encounters for her daughter. She was already 29 years old, but she had never gone beyond kissing and touching herself with her ex-boyfriends. It wasn't something she saved for the right person, she just never saw the right opportunity to let her virginity go.

You weren't surprised when a package arrived at your apartment door on the morning of your weekend off. It had a note from Garcia. You smiled as you picked up the box and took it to your bedroom, imagining it was just a stupid book about sex and its health benefits, but your eyes widened when you saw what was inside the package. You hadn't been wrong to think of it as a book. There really was a book inside, but what caught your attention the most was the wide variety of sex toys that were also inside the box. She ran her fingers over one of the silicone vibrators and took it out of the box, startled by the size of the thing she was now holding in one hand. She looked at the details and felt her cheeks burning. She mentally thanked her roommate for not being there. Spencer would certainly think things about herself. She wouldn't have the courage to look him in the eye if he saw what she had in her hands.

She threw the sex toy on the bed and picked up the book, opening it to the page marked by a small iron clip. There was another note from her best friend inside. She felt like burying her face in the floor and never taking it out again.

I think you might like some of the things in here, but everything is better when tested with someone.

I hope you enjoy my gift. I'll want all the details. Don't hide from me the incredible pleasures that life gives us

You sat on the bed with the books in your hands, but not before closing the bedroom door. You flipped through the pages marked by Garcia and felt your breathing become labored at times, causing you to cross your legs automatically, your heart beating faster than usual. Your skin felt hot and knew it was red, but you didn't hesitate to take off your clothes and lie down on the bed, leaving the box with the other toys on the floor, the forgotten book on the dresser and the silicone vibrator in your hands, running it over your skin until you reached the place that was throbbing with anxiety. You had never felt anything like that before.

“Oh shit” You moaned, passing the toy over your wet lips, you felt like you were dripping, but that sensation wasn't enough. “Oh my God” You whimpered, pressing the vibrator to your aching clitoris, your eyes rolled back automatically, your legs opening and giving even more access to the light vibrations of the dildo. “This feels so good, yes”.

You couldn't think of anything coherent at that moment, just rambling with low words and a tone almost like crying in your voice, small, soft moans escaping through your parted lips. It was as if all your limbs were too heavy, your brain seemed to melt and your body convulsed, your eyes rolling and closing with the pleasure that spread throughout everything.

Your ears felt like they had cotton balls, which prevented you from hearing any sound other than your own moans. Your phone that was constantly ringing on the bed was forgotten, your boss worried on the other end of the line, but nothing other than your pleasure mattered at that moment, not when your body begged for an orgasm immediately.

…

“Dr. Reid” The man answered the phone, stopping the car on the side of the road so he wouldn't get a ticket. He had just left a lecture on serial killers in a criminology class, the students seemed too entertained, he had completely lost track of time, answering questions and doubts about the cases he solved in the BAU.

“Reid, it’s me, Hotch.”

“Oh sure, Hotch, is there a problem, do we have a case?” He asked, preparing himself for whatever his boss was going to say, even though his body was already begging for at least a good night’s sleep that weekend. “Do you want me to go to the headquarters?”

“No, we don’t have a case. Y/N isn’t answering the phone, I’ve called more than five times, then I remembered that you two share an apartment and I thought it would be best to ask for your help. Do you know why she’s not answering?”

“I don’t know, I’m not at home, I had a lecture this afternoon, but I’m already heading back to the apartment. I’ll check on whatever it is, I’ll call you to let you know, Hotch.”

“Thanks, Reid, I’ll be waiting for your call.”

Spencer quickly turned off his phone and started the car again, hoping he wouldn't break any traffic laws as he ran to the apartment. Y/N didn't usually leave her phone off, she was always the first to answer Aaron when the man called, he couldn't imagine what could be happening. It took him 8 minutes to get to the apartment, fumbling with the set of keys as she opened the door with some desperation. He looked around the living room and everything was in its place, the woman's keys on the coffee table, her cell phone next to it, the lost flames appeared on the screen, but the device was still on. Spencer walked down the hallway and looked in his own room, which was still organized as when he had left, he turned around and walked to her room.

"Y/N? Are you there?" The man asked, knocking on the wooden door. Some murmurs didn't go unnoticed, Spencer arched his eyebrow, knocking on the door again. No response, the woman wasn't listening and the worst-case scenarios went through the doctor's head, who didn't hesitate to turn the handle and open the door.

The agent's eyes froze as he looked at the scene in front of him, his fingers still holding the doorknob and an expression of shock. Y/N was lying on the bed, a sheet thrown over her belly, her legs spread and her head thrown on the pillow, her lips parted in low moans and pleasurable murmurs. Her skin was sweaty, shining in the room's lighting, her hair spread and stuck to her forehead, her cheeks red and her toes curled.

"Holy shit," Spencer said, letting go of the doorknob. The woman opened her eyes in fright, pulling the sheet to cover her body completely, the man turned around, closing his eyes. "Sorry! Hotch was calling you and you didn't answer, we thought something had happened."

"Oh my God." You moaned embarrassed, throwing the toy on top of the wet sheets. Spencer just mumbled an apology and locked the door again, leaving you alone, with nothing but the embarrassment of being caught red-handed in that situation.

…

You didn't know how long you had been in the room, but you knew you couldn't stay locked in the place all day. A robe was thrown over your body, all the toys were thrown inside your wardrobe and the sheets were on the floor. You opened the bedroom door begging it not to make any noise, but the creaking of its lock was obvious throughout the apartment, as if it was seeping into every possible room, it was no different with the noises of the wooden floorboards, which creaked when you reached the living room.

Spencer turned to look at you, a cup of coffee in his hand and a small smile on his face, everything seemed normal. You adjusted the robe on your body and walked to the sofa, sitting a few inches away from the genie, who pointed to the cup on the table, the liquid was still hot. The man seemed to have guessed when you would leave the room, even after all the embarrassment from hours before.

“I already told Aaron that everything was fine and I fixed your report, it was just a wrong date, nothing too worrying, a typo.” The man said, taking another sip of the hot coffee. “Everything is fine between us, right? I’m sorry I came in, it’s just that I knocked and you didn’t answer, I thought you were hurt.”

“It’s okay, I should have locked it anyway. It wasn’t your fault, I think it was mine actually.” You laughed, your cheeks turning red as you remembered the look he was giving you. The agent just nodded, laughing at the thought that they would never be able to tell anyone about that.

“Are they new? There was a box in your room,” he said, so distracted that he at least measured his words before speaking. “You don’t have to answer, I didn’t think before I asked.”

“Okay. Yes, they’re new, they were actually a gift from Garcia, I guess she doesn’t have many filters when it comes to gifts, but it would be rude to refuse the act of affection.” You replied, crossing your legs in a way that moved the fabric of your robe over your skin. The genie didn’t hide his gaze, the smile on his face growing as he went up and met your eyes.

“Well, I guess you can’t say you didn’t like it. It would be a big lie, Y/N.” He murmured, drinking more liquid from the cup. “I would be a witness to your lie.”

“And I would be a witness to how paralyzed you were when you opened the door, Dr. Reid.”

“It’s not every day you see a needy little thing like you like that, it’s no surprise that I was paralyzed.” You spoke confidently, smiling and placing the cup of coffee on the table, so that he could stand up and stand in front of you. “Tell me, how many times did you cum with the help of that toy? You were so wet.”

You were staring at the genie with your eyes still, almost wide open as you realized the sexual confidence that Spencer exuded at that moment. He was looking at you with a sideways smile and dark eyes, so dark that you could get completely lost in them. The man touched her on the shoulder, the sleeve of her robe falling gently, revealing her unmarked skin, ready to be decorated by him and only him.

“Spence?” She asked, her eyes rising until they met his completely. “What-” Your speech was interrupted by the man, who bent down in front of you, his fingers touching the fabric of your robe until your skin was fully exposed from the waist down. Your intimacy was still wet, your previous orgasms still showing on your legs. You were embarrassed, closing your eyes so you wouldn’t have to look at the genie.

“Open your eyes, darling. I want you to watch as I devour you and make you cum in my mouth, I want to take every drop of pleasure from inside you, do you want that too? I bet you're so anxious, you can't even control yourself, so pathetically needy and hot.”

Your fingers flew to the man's hair as kisses began to be placed on your thighs, his hot breath hitting your intimacy only made you yearn even more for what was to come next. Spencer smiled, leaving open-mouthed kisses on your skin, just having fun with your anxiety. The agent wanted to test how devoted to him you could be when you were anxious to feel the least bit of pleasure he could give. You hoped the man didn't realize how much you would accept anything from him at that moment.

"Spence, please!" You whimpered, pulling the strands of your hair, bringing the man's face closer to your intimacy. "I need you."

"Do you need me?" He mocked, seeing a few anxious tears appearing in the corners of her eyes. The genius was being so mean to her, she felt like she could go crazy if he didn't put his mouth on her pussy soon.

It was only two seconds before a scream echoed through the room. It had come from her lips when the man finally started sucking on her intimacy. He seemed hungry, passing his mouth over each spot, leaving her even wetter than she already was. Her sensitive clitoris ached deliciously, her body writhed with the pleasurable sensation of having his lips on her needy pussy.

“Oh fuck, you’re so good at this.” Her eyes rolled back, her lips parted, with a trickle of saliva running down her chin. She felt like her brain was melting from the amount of pleasure she was feeling at that moment.

The man stuck his tongue inside her pussy several times, extracting every drop of pleasure that dripped from her entrance. But it was when his fingers found the spot that she felt her vision darken. It seemed like there were little stars in front of her, which grew larger as the genius curved his fingers inside her, hitting places she didn’t imagine possible.

The warm feeling in your stomach warned you how close a new orgasm was becoming, tears streaming down your eyes and joining the saliva that came out of your lips, everything seemed to be a big mess at that moment. But nothing mattered except the growing feeling that you were going to cum again, you writhed on the couch, scratching Spencer's shoulders and neck. The man moaned against your intimacy, sending vibrations that brought new things to your pleasure. Fuck, you felt like you were going to die at any moment.

“I'm-” A loud scream interrupted your speech, a squirt escaped from your intimacy, wetting the man's entire face and chest. You whimpered when he didn't stop, cleaning all the liquid that was still left on you at that moment. “Damn” You gasped, looking down, met the agent's surprised gaze and a small smile on the side. “It's my first time, at all, I've never done this” You confessed, closing your eyes in shame, you felt your cheeks heating up and knew you were blushing.

“No need to be shy, you just squirted in my face and because of me, you being a virgin only boosts my ego more. Fuck Y/N, can you even imagine how hot this is? Can I be your first?”

“Yes, I want you to be my first, please,” she begged, opening her eyes to meet the man’s. Spencer just smiled, standing up to pull her up, hard enough for her to jump on his lap, her legs entwined around his waist and her face close to his. The man had never looked so attractive as he did at that moment.

“Your first time won’t be on a couch, darling.”

…

Your back touched the soft mattress of Spencer’s bed, only the bedroom lamp was on, the curtains closed and the door ajar. The man smiled as he stood up, taking off his shirt, wet from his internal orgasm, and throwing it on the floor, leaving only the gray sweatpants he was wearing. You were enchanted by his lean, attractive body, his strong arms, but not so apparent, he was completely gorgeous, you felt like your eyes could be shining when you looked at him.

“Do you like what you see, darling?” He whispered, finally lowering his sweatpants. Only then did she realize the agent's lack of underwear, he had been without underwear the whole time. You were startled by how big he was, your lips parting in an anxious moan, she would be able to beg to have him inside her. "You need to be fucked so much, don't you? So needy, but I'll take care of you, just me" he said possessively, climbing onto the bed and crawling until he was between her thighs, her intimacy was still sensitive, but she longed for the man's cock inside her.

"Fuck me, I need you so much" she confessed, moaning at the end of her speech, she could no longer stand that heat of need and anxiety. "Inside me, I need you inside me" she begged when she saw that mocking look on Spencer's face, she knew exactly what he would ask if she hadn't said that right after.

"So smart, baby, so good for me. Begging like that makes me want to ruin you completely." He whispered, his lips touching hers tenderly. A kiss was initiated, a good enough distraction for the pain that slowly spread through the woman's intimacy. She closed her eyes and moaned between the kiss, tears pricking her eyes at the uncomfortable sensation. "Shh, it will pass soon." The minutes passed slowly, but she couldn't identify when the pain turned into pleasure. The man moved slowly, only slowly undulating his hips, delighting in the moan of pleasure that escaped his lips. Your eyes met in the middle of the movements, your lips opened in beautiful moans and small whimpers. You tried to move your own hips against his, but the man's hands on your waist prevented you from doing that. Spencer was having fun doing all the work there.

“You look so beautiful around me.” He moaned, hitting the bottom of your pussy with a stronger thrust, that took you to heaven and pulled you to hell in the same proportion. A scream escaped your lips when one of the man's hands went to your clit, making small circles and rubbing, increasing even more the stimulation that he felt with his cock. “If I knew it would be like this, I would have fucked you so long ago. Fuck, I haven't been able to take my eyes off you since you arrived at the BAU, always so beautiful, your eyes so innocent, I always knew what you were looking for.”

“Spence-” You moaned, choking on a sob as you felt so stimulated, your eyes spilling more tears down your red and wet cheeks. Your crying was pleasurable, your body contorting as if you were getting closer and closer to a new orgasm. You were going to milk the man's cock so well, every second would be worth it, all you wanted was to feel his cum inside your pussy.

The thrusts increased even more, their hips moving together, their moans echoing through the room and reverberating off the walls, they felt like they could wake up the entire neighborhood in that vulgar and pleasurable way.

She felt her vision go blurry when their lips met in a sloppy kiss, full of saliva, tears and disconnected moans from the pleasure that increased even more through her veins. Spencer didn't stop playing with her clitoris, while her nails scratched the man's back and neck, leaving obvious red marks.

The agent lowered his lips to her neck, biting and sucking wherever he could reach, covering her with marks that were impossible to be covered by any makeup she had. Her eyes closed when another orgasm took over her body, making her legs tremble and her arms completely lose their grip. Spencer didn't need anything else, he came inside her, moaning muffled against her neck.

Her body fell to her side, her panting breathing slowly regularizing. The man looked at her, taking a deep breath as he spread kisses across your face and shoulder. You moaned in satisfaction, curling up against his chest, resting your head lightly, your eyes closing in exhaustion.

“That was perfect,” she said, her voice hoarse from how much she had moaned, her eyes closed and her lips red from the kisses and bites. You were a work of art in his eyes.

“I’m afraid I won’t let you be anyone else’s, darling.”

“I don’t want to be anyone else’s, love.”

[hwallazia]

OCEAN, BED, TATTOO – 정우영

synopsis . in which wooyoung tattoos your skin with ink... and with his lips.

pairing . jung wooyoung & fem! reader

genre . smut (mdni!), fluff & comfort, established relationship, tattoo artist! wooyoung

taglist . @bro-atz @purplenimsicle @vampzity @iykyunho | comment your username if you wanna be added to my permanent taglist! ♡

word count . 2,1k

DISCLAIMER! dom! wooyoung (he’s a teasing menace here) sub! (and very whiny) reader, fingering, clit play, light scratches, unprotected sex (boooo👎), tattoos involved, overstimulation, dirty talk, praise, petnames (my love, sweetheart, youngie & more). lmk if i missed anything.

NIC’S NOTES hey, i’m back at the game again after a long month full of exams !! i’m soo glad, i missed writing so much ♡ well, enjoy <3

tattoos aren’t as bad as people say. they look cool on your skin and they are aesthetically gorgeous. when you were about nine years old, your older sister, a few months after she came of age, got a tattoo of a beautiful, fine mandala on her right leg, and from that moment on, you were committed to tattooing your skin—probably the forearm, you often thought.

and you finally did it when you turned 20. with your sister’s company, you arrived at the tattoo parlor in search of a certain “wooyoung”, who would be the artist who would draw the permanent (and hopefully pretty) lines on your skin.

“excuse me. um, we’re looking for wooyoung? he’s supposed to be the tattoo artist for my sister.” your sister said to the man behind an old oak desk that seemed to be some kind of reception, her body leaning against the wood, elbows resting on it. 

“guess you’re looking for me then” a voice not participating in the conversation intervened. since you heard it coming from behind you, you turned around. just to meet the most good-looking, jaw-dropping, mouth-watering man you’ve ever seen, his figure leaning against the door’s frame that seemed to lead to his studio with his arms crossed in front of his chest, his notoriously pump chest.

“you must be yn.” he continued as he approached you and your sister’s position. “hi. i’m wooyoung.” he extended his right arm, placing his left hand under it. oh, he looks like a prince, a tattooed prince, but hush. “well, do you want to come in alone or do you want your sister to accompany you?”

fortunately, your sister could read you like a book. so when she saw your momentary inability to formulate coherent sentences —she’d later study the reasons why you suddenly were flabbergasted— and before you could say whatever thought your short-circuited mind processed, she answered for you. “go on. i’ll wait here. sometimes you gotta face situations without your dear older sister’s help, right?” she said as she ruffled your hair playfully, slightly messing up your hairstyle. an annoyed huff escaped from your lips with a small pout in reply. 

a cute, quiet snort came from wooyoung, your embarrassed heart racing a little at the sound of it. “come on, then” he tilted his head sharply indicating you to enter his studio. you walked side by side towards its door and before you both could pass the threshold, he stepped aside the door’s frame and extended his arm, his fingertips pointing to the inside of the room.

“ladies first” he uttered in a honey-dripping tone that made your heart skip a beat. and the warm smile he gave you after you locked gazes? double kill. heat flushed through your cheeks, now turning into a more reddened hue. when wooyoung saw your adorable, bashful face turning into a cute tomato, his eyes closed even more. two beautiful, heartwarming crescent moons decorating his eyes. you bowed your head slightly at the embarrassment and entered the studio. abstract art pieces hanging on the wall; a melting-type clock on the side of one of them; a few framed diplomas embellishing a narrow decorative table located below a large window, which gave the most beautiful view of the busy downtown of seoul and, at the same time, allowed the entry of divine natural light, changing the ambience completely. he also had some plants here and there.

“so, what did you have in mind for today?” he spoke as he reached for his chair, grabbing it by its back and pulling it to him so he could sit on it. his arms finding support on the top of the chair as his upper body vaguely leaned against it. “is it your first time?” he asked and turned around to prepare the tattoo machine by grabbing the black ink he’d possibly need.

“yes, um. it is, actually” you stuttered, trying to sound as clear and understandable as possible. “i thought about tattooing the word ‘resilience’ on my forearm. is that okay?” your eyes wondered between wooyoung’s fingers and the veins that came from them, a bottle of isopropyl alcohol in his right hand. 

“of course it’s okay. you’re the boss in here.” he chuckled a little at your stammering tone. ‘well of course it is, you’re the one getting the tattoo and paying for it anyway, so duh’ a bothering voice in your head replied to you, a soft huff from you was heard. “so, do you have an idea of how you want it to look?” he continued while he stretched the latex glove on his left hand and then replicating the action on his right.

“yeah, let me get my ph-” you started to say as you touched your upper body, and then your hips, and then your pockets, and then your pants... you had totally forgotten your phone, in which you kept the idea you saw on pinterest the other day of the tattoo you wanted to get. a murmured curse coming off your lips when you realized. “i, uh. i don’t have my phone with me right now. i... forgot it at home.”

“oh. well don’t worry! it happens to me more times than i’d like.” he laughed not too exaggeratedly. he wasn’t trying to piss you off by giggling at your disgraceful situation; he was comforting you in the best way he could because, after all, you were strangers. “hm. so do you wanna reschedule or-”

you didn’t think twice before responding by shaking your hands in front of you. “no! i trust you with it! it’s just a word anyway.” the words easily slipped out of your tongue, not a hint of doubt in the spark that glimmered in your orbs.

“but it’s your first tattoo-” wooyoung replied with notorious insecureness in his tone and you, unbothered, interrupted him.

“come on!” you spoke as you lifted your dark purple oversized sweater’s sleeve, revealing your soft skin to his fox-like eyes which doubted for a second before resting his slim, latex-covered fingers on your exposed skin. you were able to see a very close-up of the touch of his fingers against your skin, your hair standing on end as a result. his fingers sent shivers and sparks down your whole anatomy, a weird feeling forming in your belly and chest. you felt how his touch dragging flowers through the meadow of your complexion, creating the most beautiful garden.

who would say that that boy who marked your skin for life with his art would now be the one with whom you wake up every day, the one to whom you trust your most intimate secrets, the one whom you love and kiss every day. the one that makes you see stars.

like now, fucking his fingers sloppily from all the right angles into your wet cunt.

“youngie, wait i- hgh- i don’t wanna cum yet.” you whine as you grip the silk, champagne-colored sheets underneath you. he has spent a generous amount of time prepping you, playing way too much with your sensitive clit. and that has brought you to the brink of abyss. you want to cum when he finally fills you with his rock-hardened cock, but wooyoung seems to have no intention of stopping. he is a hundred-percent committed in making you cum as much as you physically can.

“huh? what’s that, sweetheart? didn’t quite catch that.” he mocks at you, deepening his index and middle fingers inside you and putting his thumb to work on your bud’s stimulation. a desperate cry bubbling out your throat. “but stop crying, baby. so you can respond.” his non-working hand releases its firm grip on your hip and moves up to your cheek to stroke it in the most gently way.

your voice lets you down, your tone drowning in the blubber that erupts from your lips once your body feels the consequences of wooyoung’s incessant thumb swaying over your clit. the palms of your hands sheltering your reddened cheeks.

he chuckles at the sight of you, “covering your face when you’re dripping all over my fingers?” he withdraws his fingers from your warm interior, your walls clenching around nothing due to the nostalgia of being satisfyingly full. he then covers your hands with his and takes them away from your blissed expression and pecks your lips briefly. “shameless.” 

he gets on his knees in between your legs, his hands pushing them apart before he bends over your figure, trapping you between his strong, tattooed arms. you have tried in the past putting your legs on his shoulder; and yes, he does push further than usual, but it was an uncomfortable and painful position for you. so you opted for simpler things, nothing so difficult so that it replaces pleasure with pain. wooyoung always puts your satisfaction over his, doing everything he can to give you the most toe-curling orgasm every time. and he never fails. 

your hands instinctively find comfort on his back, your fingers mindlessly stroking his back tattoo. “i’m putting it in, love.” he murmurs against the crook of your neck as he pushes in further and further, your nails digging onto his bare back. the combination of a masculine grunt and a whimper floats in the air, which is getting heavier and heavier. 

“holy shit- ah, wooyoung. you’re so.. fucking deep.” you blubber as you feel his cockhead faintly rubbing your g-spot. his thrusts are precise and strong, driving you quickly over the edge. his sighs blowing on your face as almost invisible clouds because of the humidity generated by the situation. 

“fuck baby. you feel so soft and warm. and tight” he exhals, some strands of hair sticking to his sweaty forehead. he does some kind of push-up to come down your face and kiss your swollen, red lips frantically. your tongues fighting and his winning over yours. “wanna stay inside you forever. ah.” wooyoung pants out his words, hips still going and knocking a little more roughly against your cunt with every push.

“i know you can give me a little more, though” he pants raspily, totally out of breath. your fucked-out mind can only process something about ‘wanting more’ or something like that, you don’t know, way too gone to even say your name without stumbling with your own words. you can only understand what he says when his very familiar touch lingers strokes on your clit, so swollen and tired of overstimulation. the cute, pleasured sounds coming out of you only encouraged him to speed up his fingers and his hips as well. he practically is wanting to break you completely until you aren’t able to even recognize where you are, your name or how much is two plus two. and wooyoung finds your current state quite amusing, so he starts to imitate you, mocking your broken sobs and pathetic mewls exaggeratedly. 

“if only you could listen to you right now. but you aren’t even listening to me, are you, doll?” he teases, enjoying a bit too much the tears that pitifully stream down your face profusely. your eyebrows furrow together, your thighs shake more than usual and you start feeling lightheaded; you’re about to fall into the abyss of pleasure and wooyoung is more than happy to receive your warm, dripping juices. 

“oh fuck, youngie. ’m gonna cum. you’re gonna make me cum. please let me... fuck... please, i—” you give up on the rambling begging and let yourself just helplessly whine and mewl.

“i know, my love. go on, cum for your youngie. make me proud, angel.” he encourages you, his fingers keeping a steady pace on your bud as well as his thrusts. three or four more are more than enough to melt you under his divine touch as your throat lets out the very last shriek of the night. “ah you’re so good, so fucking tight for your youngie, aren’t you? ugh” he shakes above you as he lets out a moan that sounded more like a cry. he quickly, but carefully pulls out, your body shuddering at the sudden emptiness, releasing hot shots of cum over your belly, painting your navel’s surroundings with pearl-like spurts.

he finally lets his body surrender to the overwhelming tiredness, collapsing above you.

“wooyoung. love. get off of me, i can’t breathe.” you speak, receiving a drowned and unbothered ‘mm’ as a response. you chuckle with the little strength you have left, “at least get off of my arm?” you try to negotiate with him the dumbest thing ever. but he finally does as told and moves a little to the side, releasing your right arm from his weight, “there you go. see? it wasn’t that hard.”

“hush. i’m sleepy. and tired” he mentions separately in a grumpy tone. of course, how could you forget the grumpiness that wraps your boyfriend when he runs out of energy?

“fine, babygirl.”

“don’t call me that!”

| masterlist

[breathinlove]

sticky fingers ellie williams

read this

synopsis: you and your best friend got popsicles on a hot day, but ellie finishes hers first.

cw: swearing, dialogue heavy at first, homoerotic friendship i fear, hinted themes, dirty minded hoes who act oblivious, a whole lotta mouth and tongue but no nothang but slighhhhhttttlyyy nsfw.

a/n: idk what this is it just came to me as i had a popsicle in the morning lmao... i js missed writing.

you're walking home with one of best friends, ellie, after a day at the park. it was a boring and oppressively hot day. you had bought yourselves ice lollies to help survive the sultry weather.

"is it good?" ellie speaks, pointing to your yellow popsicle.

"yeah, ellie, it's good." you say, matter-of-factly.

"i love pineapple." she looks away from you as you come closer to the crossing, both you looking to the sides of the road in sync.

“i know, me too." you reply shortly, not giving her the time of day, rapidly crossing the street. ellie stays silent, but not for too long.

"well..." she mutters when she catches your trail.

"yes?" you know what she wants but you still play dumb. you're not gonna give it to her.

“just a taste—" she starts whining, and you cut her off.

“nope." that's all you say in response.

you turn the stick horizontally as you get to the middle of the ice lolly, you suck on it and she's snorts heavily. she seems to drag her feet along the sidewalk.

“please, it's so hot out here.” ellie insists on the subject.

"it’s not my fault you fucking gobbled yours." you giggle, flicking her forehead.

she lets out a cartoon-like ‘ouch’ and she pushes your arm.

"bruh, it was small." ellie complains before wiping sweat off her nape, where strands of hair stuck onto.

“doooon't caaaare.” you smirk.

you bite the ice off the stick and she looks like she's mourning its loss. ellie loves pineapple artificial flavoring, despite choosing not to eat too much actual pineapple because when you two ate a bunch of pineapple slices together, you ended up with prickled tongues and mouth ulcers. it wasn't fun.

you can read her expression well enough to let out a chuckle, almost choking on the juice that pools inside your mouth. she clicks her tongue at the sound of slurping coming from you, she focuses on the noise of lawn mowers on your neighborhood instead, but they're just as annoying.

"ellie." you mutter with a heavy breath, she can hear what remains on your tongue moving. she hums in response.

you know ellie's annoyed. you were friends, but you were afraid that you had spoiled her. whenever you denied her anything, she'd catch an attitude. and you liked teasing her. you thought she looked cute when she'd look away from you with a serious face over something so small as a popsicle.

“lukami.” you say, he contorts her face in confusion, and you slurp at the juices to clear your words.

“look at me." you repeat, now coherently, grabbing her cheeks.

“yeah? what do you want?" she looks at you, and you take a disgustingly loud and final slurp.

ellie knows the pineapple stick is gone now, and she didn't even get to taste it. she pictured herself tasting it off your lips, or even your tongue. she wondered if she'd able to feel the refreshment if she sucked on your tongue after all the sucking you did on that popsicle.

“guess what?” you smile, she takes a little too long to answer and you wonder what goes through her mind.

but well, she's nasty, isn't she? she wanted it, no matter if it meant licking around one of her best friend's mouth. she's upset, but she knows it's silly.

“what?” she shrugs.

"i have popsicles at home.” you say excitedly and you look giddy, your sugary fingers still on her face.

“whatever," she looked away, forcing away from your hold. "get those sticky fingers away from me."

"that's a great album, by the way." you ignore her demand, chuckling.

you mess with her cheeks, smearing her with the syrup on your hand. you left a spot on her lips, she licked it. finally, she knows what it tasted like and she yearns for more.

“you're so messy, ya know?" she smiles wide.

you look at your hand as she grabs and holds it where it was, against her lips. you stop on your tracks completely, feeling her tongue stick out of her lips and coming in contact with the pad of your fingers, it tickles. you giggle.

she hums at the sweetness of it and looks up at you from your fingers, what a kid!

"ellie, please, what's wrong with you?" you laugh, and she does too. sugar puts her in a good mood.

“should've just let me taste it.” she speaks.

you would've thought she was done but ellie takes your index finger inside her mouth for shits and giggles, her warm as the day tongue massaging your finger as she sucks on it.

“you're so stupid.” you say, using minimal to no strength to push her face with the hand she entrapped. she smiles around your finger.

you feel the desire to slide your finger further into her mouth to wipe that shit-eating grin of her face. you imagined how ellie would look when she gagged on it, the shock in her eyes would be amusing, you assume. these thoughts run around your mind.

you think she might have an oral fixation by the looks of it,you look around, making sure no one was watching this seemingly obscenity.

"god, ellie.." you sigh in defeat when she flutters her eyes shut. you watch, mind running around her soft features and braking on her pursed lips, tainted red from her late watermelon popsicle.

then she releases your finger, after god knows how long (now that your fingerprint is practically part of her tongue’s muscle memory). you snap back to reality, freshly cut grass smell hitting your nose and unbearable sun hitting your skin.

ellie looks proud of herself.

"it really was good. what flavors you got at home?" she asks and starts walking again. you clean your now spit dirty fingers on your shirt and walk with her, enumerating the flavors of popsicles your dad had bought and stacked in the freezer.

[supercutszns]

sweet on you | jason grace

wc + pairing: 1k, jason grace x f!reader

notes: short-ish jason blurb while i chalk up some of my beefier fics (& my 1k celebration thank u again)<3 this is my first time publishing for him so hopefully this isn't too ooc! i need to let myself write shorter stream of consciousness things,, all fluff, just jason taking your makeup off after a party <33 also its set at chb because i said so

Whenever Jason washes off your makeup, he acts like it's his sworn duty.

You’re a little hazy as he wets a cloth in the sink, repositioning himself between your legs that hang limply off the bathroom counter. You keep scanning his face for any trace of weariness or urgency. After a long day of camp duties, the last thing you think he’d want was to clean up his drunken girlfriend after a secret party. But he’s as kind and patient as ever, and you don’t know if it’s your heart or the alcohol talking, but you are deliriously in love with him right now. He’s a leader—a brave, powerful demigod—but he’s only that good because he’s gentle. That's what you see, anyway. Everyone loves him for a reason, but you're still sure you love him most.

You got drunk. You got anxious. But it’s more than worth it if Jason takes care of you after. Even under these fluorescent bathroom lights, he’s beautiful.

“Why thank you,” he says, a bemused smile on his face.

You blink. “Did I say that out loud?”

“Sure did.”

The scar on the corner of his lip lifts as he kisses your cheek. You hum pleasantly, and you feel the ghost of his laugh before he pulls away. “Close your eyes for me?”

You oblige. In seconds, you’re greeted with the warm press of a towel on your face. Jason keeps you in place with his hand cupping your chin. “Let me know if I poke your eyes, okay?”

“If you do I’ll just bite your finger.”

“Awesome.” He works on sweeping the cloth over your skin to drag off all that makeup. You wait patiently, happily, indulging in the occasional idle chatter and the steady brush of Jason’s thumb underneath your chin. Every pass of his fingers against your face lulls you further into your haze. He’s warm, methodical, sweet. He switches the cloth to a different side and drags up your cheekbones. Your brain is mush with alcohol and appreciation.

“‘M sorry I got carried away, Jace,” you mumble, head swaying involuntarily. “Didn’t need to come get me like this.”

His soft laugh swims in your ears, and he lowers himself a bit to see you better. “Trust me, I wasn’t doing much. The only notable thing this evening was crossing the hundred-page threshold in my book.”

“Is it good?” You slur, toying with his dog-tag necklace you’d gotten him for his birthday.

He tilts his head, “Eh. Alright. I still like taking care of you more, though.”

You must be beaming stupidly wide, because Jason shakes his head with a smile, and he wraps his arms around you to kiss your jaw. “Besides, you’re sweet on me when you’re drunk.”

The feel of his lips would have shut you up in any normal circumstance, but your idiotic thoughts only heighten. “Sweet on you?”

“Mmhm.”

“That’s a thing?”

“Yes! They … people say it.”

His cheeks flush red in that insanely adorable way, and he presses his face back into your neck. “They said it in my book,” he mumbles, and you laugh so hard he has to shush you.

He goes through the rest of your rather particular skincare routine as per your instructions. He’s seen you do it a thousand times, but you repeat the order anyways just to be sure—although it’s likely you’re jumbling up your words and taking too many pauses for any of it to come out coherent. He takes his time, focused intently on the planes and ridges of your skin. If you were any more sober you’d probably be self-conscious, but sometimes his thumb runs across your cheek with a tenderness that has nothing to do with your serums.

Once all’s said and done, your skin refreshed, you’re practically snoozing on the counter. “Sweetheart,” Jason hums, winding arms around you once more, “Let’s get you to bed.”

“Only if it’s with you,” you yawn, cheek smushing into his chest.

“Well, that’s a given.”

He’s smiling again as he runs his hands down to your thighs, so you can loop your legs around his hips. “Hold on, okay?”

You oblige, relishing in the curl of his biceps against your sides as he hoists you off the counter. Usually you’d be hesitant to let him carry you around with you clinging to him like this, but your capacity for embarrassment had vanished about two drinks ago. You hear him chuckling into your hair as the breeze tickles your face, although it's far less severe in his arms.

Camp’s practically deserted this time of night so Jason has no problem getting you into his cabin. He puts you down on his lonely bed in a sea of marble, lit with nothing but the warmth of his reading lamp. “Thank you, baby,” you murmur as he helps you out of your clothes and gives you a shirt of his own. The way he smells reminds you of morning mist as he ties your hair back.

Soon you’re in your favourite place in the world: drowned in blankets on a cool summer night in Jason’s bed. You’re nestled snug against his chest, letting the fog in your mind settle as he traces shapes on your back beneath your shirt. Transfixed by the ebb and flow of his breath, you can’t help but press your lips to his collarbone, lazy chapstick kisses spooling onto his skin.

“Y’re right,” you mumble, “I am sweet on you.”

Jason laughs quietly, setting down his book. He taps on your chin to draw you out of his chest, leading you to his mouth. You’re giggling and falling into him before you even kiss. He tastes like sweet mint as he cages you against him with his arms, nothing but gentle. “Love you,” you whisper with a plucky smile.

He kisses your forehead, “I love you.” He disposes of his glasses and turns off his lamp, sinking the both of you down onto the mattress. “Get some sleep, angel.”

You must be a lot better at following instructions than you thought, because you smother yourself in his warmth and you’re sure you’ve never slept better.

[celaenaeiln]

thinking about some quotes i’ve read and i wanna hear your thoughts on them because i have a lot and i don’t know what to do with them.

“the day Dick Grayson turns evil is the day the universe ends, not because that day will never come but because the boy will make it come”

“Dick Grayson isn’t the universal constant of good. Dick Grayson is the universal constant of competence”

“So, having said all that, it is a few but definitely significant words that fill the contingency plan on Nightwing in case the hero of Bludhaven ever turns to the dark side. Let's hope that never happens.”

YESSSSS

“the day Dick Grayson turns evil is the day the universe ends, not because that day will never come but because the boy will make it come”

This is the truest fact I've ever heard because this is really canon.

Word for word this happened.

In one of the canon timelines Clark laser blasted Bruce under mind control.

And oh how Dick took over. You know what Luthor says?

"After all, as I've heard your father [Dick] so often quoted, 'we make the hardest decisions for those we care about the most.' Well, in his case...that has meant remaking the world."

This man has the power to single-handedly control the fate of the world.

Whatever he wants, he will make it happen.

The entirety of the justice league, all the metas, heroes, and villains too stood no chance against him.

DC vs Vampires

“Dick Grayson isn’t the universal constant of good. Dick Grayson is the universal constant of competence”

I think it's true.

Nightwing is one of the most formidable figures in DC, without fail consistently coming out on top, so if Superman is iterating that Dick's personality and essence of being is the same, then there's really no room for disagreement.

But more truly, I think he is a Nexus.

By Marvel's definition, "Nexus Beings are rare individual entities with the ability to affect probability and thus the future, thereby altering the flow of the Universal Time Stream. These beings, each referred to as a nexus, act as the keystones of the Multiverse and are crucial to its ultimate coherence and stability."

That means that the universe hinges on the actions of Dick Grayson.

Not only does he control the fate of the world but his mere existence determines what will become of it by other people:

I'd like to reiterate that Neux Beings are "the keystones of the Multiverse and are crucial to its ultimate coherence and stability."

You can still be a nexus if you turn dark. For example Lore was a dark version of Wanda Maximoff but she is still considered a nexus. So you're right in saying that Dick Grayson is a multiuniversal constant of competence.

“So, having said all that, it is a few but definitely significant words that fill the contingency plan on Nightwing in case the hero of Bludhaven ever turns to the dark side. Let's hope that never happens.”

In the easiest terms as someone put it, "hope he fucks up" is Bruce's only contingency plan against Nightwing. The man doesn't have a clear plan how to neutralize Nightwing.

His exact words are: "As a result of overanalyzing any situation, this allows Dick Grayson to overconfident and misdirected. This will make himself open to a second attack."

So the plan is basically 'Dick is too smart for his own good so we'll have to go with a lucky surprise attack.' He's literally saying 'yupppp. Let's just hope he messed up because there's nothing we can do on ouR end.' Note that Bruce doesn't even have a back up like 'the second attack didn't work? we're fucked.'

For everyone else he actually has a coherent plan in mind- do this and they will fall. But for Dick? 'I hope he messes up enough for a second attack to actually stick. Otherwise we're shit out of luck. And lives. Fingers crossed he doesn't jump to the bad side.'

Tim also confirmed he would never make a contingency plan for Dick. The only person in the world he wouldn't do one for.

He's just that formidable of a man. Even now he can easily take down the Justice League if he wanted to.

And we know that Dick has one of the strongest wills on the planet.

"I have my enhancements. I have powers. Dick Grayson...what do you have?"

A world where Dick loses his emotions is a world that would not survive.

[luvrxbunny]

his favorite taste

Pairing: Vampire!Bf!Eddie Munson x F!Reader

Summary: Eddie tastes you for the first time.

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, dry humping, blood, blood consumption, vampires, cum in pants(?) (lmk if I forgot anything)

WC: 3.7k

A/N: I’m going based on TVD vampires so Eddie has blood and a beating heart as long as he replenishes it with human blood. Also, I think I got possessed while writing this idek if its coherent

You’re lying in bed facing Eddie, admiring his face, how much he still looks the same. Even though he isn't. 

It’s been about a month since Eddie came back, different. He’s a vampire… when you boil it down. He just doesn’t like the term, he thinks it’s silly. In the month he’s been back he has explained everything to you, what happened to him, his new urges and needs. You know he goes out once a week to feed, he never told you when and he never lets you see his fangs but you’ve memorized his patterns. The only day he’s always too busy to come over is Sunday. 

It’s Saturday and Eddie is lying in your bed. You're high. He still rolls for you, despite now being immune to the effects. He likes to watch you smoke, watch you get sluggish, sweet, soft, and sensitive for him. He’s watching you as you admire his face, as you bring your hand up to trace over his cheek, down his jawline, and to his lips. 

You’re motions are mindless, you’re barely aware that you’re doing them. You imagine what his fangs look like as your fingers trace the outline of his lips. Your thumb comes to press into his inner lip when his breathing picks up. 

He’s more sensitive. He forgot to mention that to you. His senses are heightened and amplified by one another. He is hyper-aware of your warm fingers against his cold lips. He even gets a whiff of the blood that's rushing underneath. His breathing kicks up for a moment, trying to fill his lungs with the scent before he stops his breath short. His fangs are trying to push their way through his gums, his instincts shouting at him to sink his teeth into your soft, plush thumb. He knows you’d taste so sweet, he could probably get a nice buzz going too, with how much weed is in your system. He squeezes his eyes shut as he wills his fangs to stay in place, pretending like he can’t already feel them pressing against his top lip. 

His lips start to tremble against your fingers and confusion crosses your face. Then you feel his fangs press against his lip, pushing it into your finger. You gasp softly and push your thumb up into his mouth to press your thumb against his fangs. You’re excited, your curiosity causing you to move before you think. 

He can feel your fingers on his fangs. He feels the ridges of your fingerprint sliding over the smooth bone. It shoots like lightning through him sending the little bit of blood he has left to his cock. His eyes are pressed shut as he tries not to move a muscle. 

You aren’t considering Eddie at all. This isn't about him. It’s about you exploring his new features. They’re longer than you expected, white and glossy with his spit. You smile as you run your fingers from the bottom of his front teeth, across to press against the point of his fangs. 

You don't think about how sharp his fangs must be.

He punctures your thumb immediately, red blood pooling on the surface.

It drips into his mouth and his eyes snap open. He grips your hand roughly, pressing your wrist against his face to hold your thumb where it is while he sucks all the blood he can from the wound. He can’t think. He can’t think about how he might be hurting you, how he shouldn’t be drinking you up like this. He can only think about your taste. 

You watch his eyes shut tightly as he moans against your thumb. His lips are wrapped around you firmly as he sucks as hard as he can. You watch him gain color, his lips becoming pink again, he whimpers out something that sounds like a sob before pulling your hand away from his face, and shoving it back down against your stomach. The way he forces you, the way his hand spreads over your stomach past your wrist, has you dampening your panties. 

Eddie’s eyes are still closed as he tries to calm down. He’s hungry, and he knows that you’re more than willing to feed him. He opens his eyes slowly to find you staring right at his lips. He goes to lick them subconsciously but a moan slips out when he’s met with more of your blood. It has your eyes snapping to his. 

He looks into your eyes trying to decipher how you’re feeling, if you’re scared of him. He watches you bite your lip and smile softly at him before asking an innocent question. “Do I taste good, Eddie?” 

He knows it’s a genuine question but he also knows that you hoped it would do something to him. His fangs peek out from under his lips when he gasps before he buries his face in your pillows and groans. You’re giggling at him and yourself, the weed still coursing through your system. You bury your face in the pillow you’re on to try and silence your laugh, Eddie, and feel it. He can hear your laugh right next to his ear while he’s mulling over what you said. It has him hard and grinding his hips gently into your bed, wishing he had put on some boxers. 

You lift your head to look at his curls. You stroke them gently and he groans into your pillow again before turning over to see you, his fangs hidden away once more. You’re still smiling at him with all your sweetness and it makes his heart skip a beat. “Why’re you asking me things like that baby?”

Heat rises to your face and your features turn embarrassed. This piques Eddie’s interest. He sits up in your bed, waiting for you to answer his question. You look at your bedsheets, twisting them under your fingers while you consider how to answer him. In the end, you choose; honestly. 

“I just… Okay so obviously I don’t know what blood tastes like. I don’t know if different blood has different flavors to you or if maybe the flavors are based on blood type?” Eddie has confusion resting on his face as he wonders if your answer leads anywhere. He’s nodding at you nonetheless, not wanting you to get insecure about what you’re saying. He likes this when you’re high enough that you’re not making a lot of sense to him but making perfect sense to yourself. You’re so cute like this, looser. Your secrets tend to spill out this way.

“Do you know what I mean? I just-” You huff out, frustrated and unable to explain yourself. He is so in love. He’s trying to hold back a smile at the pout that’s settled on your lips. “It’s okay baby. Just think about what you wanna say.”

Eddie holds your hand, his thumb stroking over it while he watches your eyebrows press together in deep thought before you start speaking again. “I just don’t understand why you don’t just feed off me..." His thumb halts its movements and you start to shrink into yourself. 

Eddie is breathing deeply while considering your question. His thumb starts moving again, releasing a breath of relief from you. He knows that you think about it. He can hear your heart speed up every time he goes near your neck, even when he’s kissing your hands. He’s even thought about it. He thinks about it all the time. He knows you taste good. He wants to have your blood pouring into his mouth every time he sees you. 

Unfortunately, he has zero trust in himself. Every time he thinks about tasting you, his amount of excitement stops him. He doesn’t trust that he has the amount of restraint he would need to exert to stop, he is terrified that he’ll suck you dry. 

“I’m a little dangerous, baby. I’m stronger than you remember? You- you wouldn’t be able to push me off”

The heat that rushes to your core surprises you a bit. 

Eddie can hear your heart speed up and it hurts, the split second that he assumes you’re scared of him feels like a lifetime. Then he feels you trying to push your way into his lap, and lets you. You place yourself on top of his thighs lightly before scooting up to sit your core directly above his. You sigh softly when Eddie’s boner presses into you perfectly. Your arms wrap around his waist before you look back up at him.

“I think I’d really like it.” Your words are starting to slur, it's late, and you’re high and unbelievably turned on. “You sucking my blood, I mean. I think it would feel really good, Eddie.” He’s twitching insanely from the confines of his pajama pants. He cannot believe the words coming out of your mouth. You won’t look at him, like you’re embarrassed by what you’re confessing like you don’t know what it's doing to him. You’re idly twisting your fingers into the fabric of his wife beater, your hips moving against him subconsciously. His hand comes you tilt your chin up so that you’re looking at him. The love, innocence, and arousal in your eyes take his breath away.

“I think you might. Uh, but-” He can’t focus. You're looking up at him with such admiration. You want him to drink you up so badly he can’t handle it. “Um. I- if we do,”

Your eyes widen and you press yourself against him harder, leaning into him, your chest pressing against his which is rumbling in laughter right now. “I said if, sweetheart. If we do, I cannot have your neck, that’s… It’ll be too much for me, all that blood flow..” He trails off as his gaze concentrates on the junction of your neck. He takes a steadying breath before tearing himself away, refocusing. “It’s just too easy for me to.. drain you from there.” He rushes the last part out, embarrassed at his lack of restraint. 

You’re looking into his eyes as he speaks and looks back into yours. You’re trying to get your brain to work, to focus on more than the way Eddie is pressing into your core, the way his breath is hitting your face as he speaks, and the way he’s looking at you. You can see the ghost of a smile on his lips as he watches you try and rally the few stray thoughts you have left in your head. You focus as much as you can and offer him your only idea. “My wrist?” 

He thinks about it for a moment before shaking his head at you, hurting your little heart in the process. “Still a vein baby, too much flow.” His sentences shorten as he gets dragged into your pool of yearning. An idea finally dawns on him. He twitches in his pants at the thought of actually being able to consume you. “Your hand- I can- It’ll run dry on its own”

You started nodding before he could even finish his sentence, your hand right in front of his face by the time it ended. He can feel the warmth coming off you. His gaze cautiously shifts from your eyes to your shaky hand. He can smell the blood underneath and his mouth is watering at the prospect of sinking his teeth into it. He pulls your hand to his mouth, pressing a kiss against your palm before wrapping his hand around your wrist. 

You wait, buzzing in his lap, for him to put his mouth on you. Your hand rests over his mouth gently, your thumb on his chin and your elbow hovering over his shoulder. Eddie’s eyes are closed lightly as you hear him inhale the scent emitting from your palm. His lips press against your palm as you feel his fangs slide out underneath them. His eyebrows are curved inward as he looks back into your eyes, he’s scared. 

You bring your other hand over the side of his face, stroking along his jawline before coming behind his head to gently push his mouth against your hand. You watch him closely, looking into his eyes to watch for refusal. His eyes stay on yours as his trembling lips part for the meat at the base of your thumb. You press your hand into his mouth and Eddie whimpers against it before sinking his teeth in. 

Pain shoots up your arm, tingling between your legs. Eddie’s eyes roll so far into his head that you see all white before his eyelids shut. He’s loud, groaning at your taste and moaning when his hips rock into yours. You watch him drink you up, he’s so messy, blood is all over his lips, smearing on the side of his mouth. You’re still stroking his hair as he devours you. You can feel your blood rushing like it’s all trying to get into Eddie. Your hips won’t stop moving against his as they buck into you. 

He drinks all the blood that flows out of your wound and removes his teeth. A moan shoots out of your mouth when you see your blood all over his lips, all over his teeth, his fangs. He smiles down at where you’ve dropped your head against his shoulder and starts licking around his bite. He’s still looking at you as he does it, watching the way your eyelids flutter as you look up at him, so lovingly for someone who just bit you. 

His gaze leaves you only when he stops getting blood from your wound, he wraps his lips around it delicately and sucks to get more. You feel his shoulders drop a bit in disappointment when nothing comes out. You drop that hand to his opposite shoulder from the one you’re on, and it comes behind to cradle his neck before pulling him in for a kiss that he rejects. 

You sit up and look at him, upset, hazy, and confused. You’re met with his wild eyes and mildly apologetic face. “I still have your blood on my face baby.” He’s speaking in a hushed whisper as though the sentence were some revelation. “It’s my blood, Eddie.” You respond with an incredulous giggle, your arms tightening around him before attempting to kiss him again. Only for him to pull away, again. “Yeah but my- my fangs are still out and I’m- and it’s dangerous”

You clock the unfinished sentence regardless of his attempt to cover it up. You analyze his face, trying to figure out what he was going to say but to no avail. “You’re what Eddie?” Your tone is accusatory and he notices, his eyes leaving yours the moment you voice the question. You mull over his sentence again, “Dangerous?” 

He turns his head away and you watch as his tongue nervously darts out to lick his lips, his eyelids flutter gently before his iris shoots to the corner of his eye, checking to see if you noticed. That’s when it clicks. 

He’s still hungry. 

As you think about it, of course he is. You don’t know how much he drinks from other people. You know that he’s holding back, that he’s scared, of course he wouldn't drink his fill. You’re still lost in thought when Eddie turns back to look at you, he waits for you to look up at him but you never do. “Can we just drop it?”

You look up at him with a smile that baffles him. You come up to kiss him on his cheek as he watches you expectantly, waiting for you to explain yourself. 

“Your needs matter Eddie, you can’t keep them from me. I need to know what you need for me to give it to you and it’s so much easier if you tell me up front.” You bring your unwounded hand to his face and slide your thumb across his lips, gathering the smeared blood as best you can before pushing it into his mouth. He’s stock still as you press your thumb against his tongue, his only movement is his lips closing to suck up every drop. You hold his eye contact as you pull your thumb from his mouth and press your palm to his mouth. “I know you want more Eddie”

His eyes water as his lips begin to tremble against you once again. You bite into your lip when you feel Eddie harden up underneath you again, pressing up against your clit this time due to the way you’re angled toward him. His eyelids flutter when his clothed tip pushes up into your plush lips. 

He keeps looking into your eyes as you press his head to your hand, as you did before. He’s holding back whimpers as he sinks his fangs into the soft skin of your hand. He feels your skin push, break, and slide against him. He can feel the gushing of your blood as it pushes through the puncture he’s made in your skin, he can feel the warmth as it surrounds his teeth, spilling into his mouth.

Eddie starts thrusting up into you like he can’t help it, his hands are on your lower back and hip, pressing you against him just the way he wants it.  His eyes are on you as he continues to drink his fill, he’s tracking you’re reaction, the way your hips speed up when he presses his teeth harder into your wound. 

He feels it, he’s getting high off your blood. His body getting more and more sensitive the longer he drinks you up.

 You can feel your pussy leak into his pants, getting his cock wet with it when he twitches up into you. Your eyes slip shut as you begin to grind against him with purpose, feeling something starting to tighten in your stomach. You watch Eddie as he drinks down all the blood he can, moaning into your hand while looking right into your eyes. You hold his contact as you feel your climax build. Eddie can feel your muscles contracting over his cock and it has him spilling pre-cum through his pants and smearing on you. His lips finally part from your hand and he’s immediately kissing you.

You can taste copper on his lips, in his mouth as he moans into yours. He’s brought one hand up to push your face into his while he keeps the other on your lower back, guiding you against him. He’s pressing his face into your neck, inhaling your scent greedily. “Oh fuck. Thank you so much, baby. Thank you, thank you, thank you.”

You moan lewdly into his ear while he expresses his gratitude, his hips thrusting up into your pussy like he’s fucking you. “Eddie,” You drag his name out into a whine in a way that has his hips stuttering against you and him moaning out into your neck. “Holy shit- Eddie I’m so close- fuck.”

He’s in his own world, grunting into you gruffly, his whole body tense as he chases his high. You can feel his mouth open in a silent moan before he’s shaking and cumming against you, his face still buried in your neck, eyes shut tight. He keeps pulling you over his cock as it pulses, he doesn’t have any rhythm but you just want him to feel good. You’re so close, right there, but you can’t get over the edge, and Eddie is going to be out of commission for the night. You almost accept your fate, that you’ll have to take one for the team but then you feel them. His fangs shoot out as he releases one last howling moan and goes limp on you. 

You feel his fangs scrape over the skin of your neck, ever so slightly but it sets your whole body alight. Pleasure shoots up your spine, straightening your spine before you’re gripping Eddie with all the strength in your body. He moans and his hand comes around to toy with your clit. His mouth opens and filth come out. 

“Such a good girl for me, baby. Letting me drink you all up, got you all messy in your panties in the process huh?”

He circles your clit once. 

“Fuck you tasted so good too, like sipping on fucking juice, sweetheart. F- felt like I was gonna cum from the moment I could taste it.”

He presses his thumb against your clit, hard.

“You’ll let me do it again right? Your blood is my new favorite taste- shit, I might be addicted to you already, baby.”

You’re gushing. Your whole body is trembling in Eddie’s hold from the force of your orgasm. You slam your eyes shut as you moan around the syllables of his name. Your hips shove themselves against Eddie’s fingers and you whine for him while soaking your underwear.

Everything is fuzzy when you open your eyes again, you can hear Eddie cooing at you in your ear, he’s stroking his hand over the expanse of your back as the other one grips the back of your neck, holding you to him. You feel a rush of air and you’re sitting on the kitchen counter.

“Gotta stay hydrated, baby you uh, you lost a lot of blood.” He chuckles to himself nervously before grabbing the cup of water and holding it out for you. Your arms don’t attempt to move from where they’re wrapped around his neck, he’s so warm and you’re sure that glass is cold so what’s the point. You’re just staring at him with you’re adorable fucked out expression, he smiles fondly before holding the cup up to your lips for you. You take a few sips, drinking about a quarter of the cup before pulling away to collapse into Eddie. He whispers “Good job, baby.” before placing a kiss on your forehead. 

Another rush of air and you’re back in bed, your head on Eddie’s chest with the blankets pulled up to your neck. You try to hide your smile as you realize this is the most of Eddie’s vampire side that he’s ever showed you. 

“What are you thinking about? Can hear your heart racing.”

“Just about how much I love you.” You respond with a delirious giggle. “Every part”

You hear Eddie take a breath before he pulls you fully on top of him and kisses you stronger than he has in the past month. “I promise that I love you more, baby”

You drift to sleep as Eddie watches, all night.

A/N: Thank you so much for reading!! Please please please give any feedback you may have! I want it all!

[imaginedisish]

The Only Exception (Din Djarin x fem!Reader)

A/N: Hey guys!!! Ahhh here is the Din Djarin x reader fic I said I’d post. This has been sitting in my WIPs since late November/early December. This is what I was working on before I got sick. I’m so happy it’s done. I’m pretty pleased with how it turned out, although I may have written something similar to this already. It’s very much inspired by “The Only Exception,” by Paramore. I’m hoping I didn’t use this song as a title yet....Oh well. ENJOY!

Summary: Din has been wildly overprotective of you lately, but maybe it’s because there’s something lying deep below the surface that’s been threatening to bubble over...

Warnings: SMUT!!!!! 18+ Please!!! Oral (f!receiving), fingering, PIV sex, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), cursing, canon typical violence, Jedi!reader, Razor Crest still exists (and it’s def bigger in my head than it is in the show), praise kink, friends to lovers, angsty but fluffy and smutty dw, I only proofread like 2 times so it may be bad (it’s 3:16am...so...we die like men!), AFAB reader, uhhh I think that’s it...

Word Count: 3,078

“I swear to the Maker, if you don’t get back on the Crest now, I’m gonna-,”

Din is cut off by the sound of your lightsaber clashing through the plastoid armor of the stormtrooper to your left. You swing your saber around, showing off more than you need to. You throw it down the alleyway, feeling through the force as it cuts through another stormtrooper before finding its way back to your hand.

“You’re gonna what?” You say, tilting your head to the side. You point your saber to the stormtroopers scattered around the alleyway. “I just saved you.” You close your saber and cross your arms cockily.

Din shakes his head, his gaze refusing to meet yours. “And where’s the kid? You just left him on the Crest?” You roll your eyes, turning your back towards him as you remove your cloak from your shoulders. There, in perfect condition, is Grogu, secure in a little carrier on your back.

“You really think I’d be that dumb?” Your words have a callous edge to them. Din had been far moodier than usual over the past few days, and with that came a strange overprotectiveness that you hadn’t seen before. It was starting to feel as if he thought you were going to mess up, that you couldn’t take care of yourself. “You think I’d put the kid’s life at stake?”

“That’s not what I meant.” The anger in his voice has all but melted away. You’re shocked by how defeated he sounds now.

You inhale deeply, taking a moment to calm yourself down. “So what did you mean, Din?”

“We don’t have time for this now.” He’s curt and almost a bit cold, his modulated voice echoing off the walls of the alleyway. “We need to get back to the ship.”

You hate the way he’s brushing you off, ignoring you, pushing you to the side. You didn’t need this; you didn’t need to put up with his shit. Not anymore. “What is going on with you?” The words come out louder, more aggressive than you meant them to.

Din takes a single stride towards you, his broad figure practically shoving you against the wall in the process. “We are not doing this here.” The feeling of him being so close to you clouds your mind. You can’t form a coherent thought, never mind a sentence. You want to say something, to stand up for yourself, but you can’t. “Now cut the shit so we can get back to the ship.” There’s that anger again, that finality in his voice.

In the distance you can hear stormtroopers chatting, whispering your name, mumbling on about Grogu, warning each other about the Mandalorian. Din was right. There was no time to hash this out here. You nod, finally caving in. Din takes a step away from you, immediately grasping your wrist in his hand before making a break for the Crest, just on the other end of the alleyway.

Somehow you make it without being seen. Din lets go of your hand, motioning for you to get on the ship. You make a b-line for the back and carefully remove Grogu from his carrier, placing him in his crib. You stand frozen in place in front of it, watching his eyes flutter open and closed as he slowly drifts off to sleep.

You don’t want to move. You rather watch the child you had come to care so deeply for sleep peacefully than deal with a massively enraged Din. The oncoming fight would most definitely wake Grogu, so maybe it was best for you to hide in the little corner that you had come to call Grogu’s bedroom, completely unnoticed. But obviously, that’s not an option. You begrudgingly step towards the end of the hull and decide to keep your hands busy by organizing the tiny stock of food that lined a makeshift shelf along the far wall.

You can hear Din’s heavy steps on the other side of the ship, presumably heading up towards the cockpit. After a few seconds and many annoyed grunts from Din, the ship is lifted into the air and away from danger.

You try your best to bring yourself to get angry at him, to yell some explicative across the hull of the ship and spit a curse in his helmet-covered face. You wanted the consequences, for him to storm over and scream back. But you couldn’t – because things weren’t normally like this. Din had always been kind, caring, protective even.

He'd leave the cockpit to grab a blanket from his cot when you fell asleep in the co-pilot’s chair. He’d come back and gently, yet silently, tuck you in with it. It was the only blanket he had. Sometimes you’d wake up in his bed, having been carried into it at some point during the night. He’d be awake, taking care of the child, flying the Crest, making sure nothing and no green baby woke you up.

You’d be lying if you said his doting behavior didn’t draw you to him, that it didn’t make you crave him. Every soft touch on your shoulder, every time you pretended to be asleep just to feel his arms wrap around you as he brought you to his cot. You’d let your stares linger a little too long from time to time, pushing past your reflection in his armor, searching for some sort of sign that maybe he feels the same.

You wanted him to come up behind you, rest his hands on your hips, squeezing softly at the exposed inch of skin where your top and your pants just can’t seem to meet, and whisper in your ear in that husky, modulated voice that he’s sorry, that he’ll make up to you by-

“Never, ever, do anything like that again.” You practically jump out of your skin at the sound of his voice. You quickly turn around, not realizing how close Din had gotten to you. His chest is practically flush against yours, the proximity causing you to stumble back against the shelf, threatening to bring it down with you.

Din immediately snakes an arm around your waist, keeping you from falling against the cold metal floors below. Your arms instinctively reach up around his neck to stabilize yourself. You’re glued to him now, and you don’t particularly want to let go. You swallow harshly, intimidated by the way the beskar clad man seems to tower over you, by the way you can smell him, by the way his forehead practically touches yours.

You take a deep breath, furrowing your brows and doing your best to collect your thoughts despite the fog that the moment seemed to create in your brain. “Do what? Save your ass?” You spit, instantly regretting the harshness of your words, even if he deserves them.

“You weren’t supposed to leave the ship.” He’s stern, his voice somehow punishing. “You were supposed to stay here with the kid.”

You shake your head, feeling far too much like a child caught playing in the front seat of their parent’s speeder. “You needed my help! You would’ve died out there without me! And I can handle myself,” You yell, trying to ignore how you could feel the rise and fall of his chest against yours. “If this is about risking the kid’s life, I promise you I wasn’t. I would never put him-,”

He cuts you off, “I know you wouldn’t, that’s not what this is about.”

What? You think to yourself, confused beyond belief. If this wasn’t about the child, then what could this possibly be about? “So then what’s the problem?” You ask, more aware of the way that Din is holding you against him now than you were before.

You can hear Din inhale deeply through the modulator. “You.” A shudder rolls down your spine. “You could’ve gotten yourself killed.” There’s still an edge in his voice, but he’s calmer now, almost pained, as if considering your death in some dark corner of his mind.

“Sorry that my death would be such an inconvenience for you,” You say sardonically. “It’ll be hard trying to replace me with some other force-wielding wizard that’ll be willing to babysit for you, since clearly that’s all I am.” You wanted the words to sting him, to hurt him, and maybe they did, but it felt like a punch in the gut to simply think them. You wanted to grab the words from where they still hung in the air and shove them back into your mouth, to swallow them so that they could burn in the acid of your stomach.

Din tilts his head down, crushed, defeated. Your heart winces. Fuck. “That’s not what I meant, and you know it.” His stare finds yours again, and you quickly look down at his shoulder, too embarrassed to have him look you in your eyes.

You shake your head. “But Din, that’s the problem,” You say, somehow finding the courage to meet his gaze. “I don’t know what you mean. How am I supposed to know what you mean if you won’t kriffing tell-,”

“Fucking hell, I don’t want to lose you!”

Your eyes widen. “What?”

Din looks around the hull, as if the words he was searching for were hiding, wrapped somewhere around its silver walls. “I can’t lose you. And before you ask, no, it’s not because you train the kid or whatever the hell you think it is.” You can feel the pain in his voice, guilt quickly filling your gut. “It’s just…” He trails off, silence hanging heavy in the air.

“Well…what is it?” You mumble, struggling to force down the lump in your throat. You wish you could see his face, to get a sense of his expression, an inkling as to what he was really feeling.

“You,” He says, as if those three letters held some secret, omniscient being or meaning. To him, they did. It was you. You were the thing that kept him up at night, the thing that made him want to show every facet of his being for the first time in his life.  “You’re reckless and careless and sometimes you drive me absolutely insane.”

You scoff. “Wow, what a glowing review of my services!”

Din shakes his head. “You don’t fucking get it. You’re so much more than that, because even though you drive me crazy,” He pauses; the modulator picks up his breath as it catches in his throat, “I know I’d never be able to spend an entire lifetime without you in it.”

You’re speechless. An entire lifetime? “Din I-,”

“Close your eyes.”

“What? You just said all that and you want me to close my-,”

“Just close your eyes. You trust me, don’t you?”

Of course I trust you, smart-ass, You think to yourself. So, you do what he says, shutting your eyes firmly. Then there’s a hiss, and then something clunks loudly against the floor. And then…

It’s warm, and soft, and smooth, and all those other perfect words someone would use to describe the perfect kiss. He has a mustache under all that metal, and now you know, because it tickles ever so gently just above your upper lip. His hands squeeze your hips just a bit tighter, pulling you further into his chest.

His lips press deeper into yours, hungrier. You keep your eyes closed tightly, your hands sliding up and into his hair, combing gently. He moans into your mouth at the touch as he guides you away from the shelf and towards his cot.

“D-Din,” You stutter in between gasps.

“What is it, mesh’la?” He presses a chaste kiss to your forehead.

You can feel the heat pooling at the bottom of your stomach, but there’s something stopping you, something telling you that there’s no possible way this could ever be real, that it wasn’t a set-up, that it wasn’t a dream. “Do you really want this?”

“More than anything.” You can hear the smirk in his voice, and you silently wish to yourself that you could see it. “Do you?”

You nod, repeating his words, “More than anything.”

His lips find yours again, his knee nudging in between your thighs as he pushes you down onto his cot. He’s on top of you now, his hands on either side of your body. “Wanted you for so long…” He whispers in your ear. “Wanted you this whole time.” Fuck, he was going to kill you.

Din presses sloppy kisses into the crook of your neck, leading up to your jaw. His hands stretch under the hemline of your shirt, his fingertips gliding across your stomach and towards the edge of your bra. You shudder as he reaches underneath, slowly inching towards your chest.

Something was changing within him, and that something was you. You made him want to throw his Creed away, to ignore all he had been taught his entire life. How could you ever possibly be something he shouldn’t have? He needed you.

More than anything. And you needed him.

“Please,” You beg. “I need you Din, please.”

And just like that, something within him finally switched.

“Open your eyes, cyare,” He’s so quiet you almost miss it. His fingers dip underneath your bra, rolling a nipple between his thumb and forefinger teasingly before doing the same to the other. “’Want you to look at me when I make you come.”

Panic rises to your chest. “W-what, are you sure? What about the Creed, what about-,”

“It doesn’t matter, not if it means I can’t have you.”

You wait a moment, giving him time to change his mind, but he doesn’t. You let your eyes flutter open, his curly hair and brown eyes flooding your vision. And Maker, there’s that smile, the smile you’d only heard through laughs and sarcastic, snide quips. You swear your heart skips a beat, maybe even two. He was perfect. Of course he was fucking perfect.

“You’re beautiful,” You whisper, your hands finding their way to his cheeks, his neck, your fingertips carefully running over his lips. His forehead rests down on yours, his eyes closing softly, reveling in the intimacy.

Din lifts himself off you and makes his way down your body, settling in between your legs. His fingers hook the waistline of your pants, tugging them down and throwing them somewhere in the hull. He feels your core through your soaked panties.

“So fucking wet for me, pretty girl,” He coos, practically ripping your panties as he pulls them down your legs. “Need to taste you.”

“F-fuck, Din,” You breathe sharply as his tongue laps at your clit, your hips lifting off the mattress. Din presses an arm across your hips, keeping you down against the cot, his free hand spreading your slick, teasing your entrance.

“’Tastes so good,” He rasps, his voice vibrating deliciously against your core. “Doing so good for me sweet girl.”

His mouth sucks harshly at your clit, taking the small bundle of nerves into his mouth, lapping at you like he was starving. You wanted more, needed more.

“N-need you, Din,” You whine, your hips fighting against the arm that held you down. He pushes you down further into the mattress, his mouth pressing even deeper onto your core.

“Not done with you yet,” He grunts, pushing two fingers into your entrance, pumping in and out, fast and hard. You could feel yourself growing closer with each thrust.

You moan his name like it’s a prayer, and in this moment it is. “Din, please, I, just…” But you can’t finish your sentence. It’s all too much, his fingers, his tongue, his voice, him. He was everywhere and everything all at once. And yet you needed more.

“Use your words, sweet girl,” He says patiently, nonchalantly.

“I want…” Your words fail again. “I…need you to f-fuck me, please.”

But he doesn’t stop, he keeps going. “I said I wasn’t done with you yet.” You could feel your walls fluttering around his fingers, teetering just on the edge.

“I’m so close,” You pant in between ragged breaths.

And then, abruptly, he pulls away, leaving you cold and empty. Before you can even think to sit up or reach out for him, he was back, his hips resting against yours, his pants and armor now somewhere scattered to the side. You could feel his cock throbbing against your inner thighs. He lines himself up with your entrance, teasing you.

“Din,” You whimper. “Plea-,”

He buries himself inside you, cutting you off, stretching you out. “So fucking tight,” He praises, pulling all the way out before thrusting back into you, filling you up again. “So soft, so perfect.” His fingers find your clit, circling the nerves roughly.

His forehead rests on your own as his left-hand searches for your right one. His fingers intertwine with yours just above your head, keeping you from drowning, cementing you there with him. It all feels so good, each pump, each circle at your clit. You can feel your walls clenching around him.

“Taking me so well,” He soothes, rocking into you. “Such a good girl.” It was all too much, his words, his cock.

“I-I’m gonna-,” You choke, white heat flooding your vision. You know Din isn’t far behind, his hips stuttering against yours.

“Come for me, sweet girl, that’s it,” Din moans, sending you over the edge. You feel yourself shattering underneath him, falling apart into a million pieces, only to be put back together again. His name slips off your tongue as he comes inside you.

His hips roll slowly against yours, gently rocking into you a few more times before pulling out.  

He shifts a bit so that you can comfortably lay on his chest. After all that, there’s only one thing you can think about.

“You wouldn’t be able to live without me?”

You look up at Din. His smirk stretches into a smile. He presses a kiss to your forehead. “I wouldn’t, no.” He says it so matter-of-factly, so simply, as if it was common knowledge. “I need you. I always have.”

“I need you too.” He was the only person you had ever needed, the only exception. You didn’t need to tell him. He knew. Always has, always will.

You are the only exception

You are the only exception

And I'm on my way to believing

Oh, and I'm on my way to believing

[semperamans]

benny is back home n'he's missed you so much he may just have to fuck you over it!!!

warnings!!!!

benny is toxic! unprotected sex! benny is toxic! i didn't proof read it!!!! so there are probably so many mistakes!!!! n' this is LONG, so read at your own risk <3

despite its stillness, there is something deafening about the july air. there's nothing more to hear than night bird song as it falls over the slumbering city. gone are the rumbling engines on i-90 n'the chatter of women parading down the sidewalks. there are no babies gigglin', no ice cream trucks wailing, no sirens squwakin'. there's nothin' stirrin' in this humid night besides the rapid beat of your heart because, well, you shouldn't be here. you know that jus' as well as i do. you should be at home, sprawled beneath the ceiling fan, eyes closed, blissfully disconnected from the world, n'you're a good girl, so i'm sure that's what you would be doing had the shrill urgency of benny's call not woken you.

"hi baby," is what he breathed over the line, and despite the distance you could smell the jack daniels on his breath. "m'home." he had been home for a few days now. johnny had called you n'made you aware the second benny's wheels crossed the county line. and then you waited. and waited. and waited. and were your feelings hurt when benny didn't call? absolutely. by day three you were going insane. like mosquito-bitten legs, it was painfully hard to ignore the absence of his voice through the receiver. every purring engine had your head whipping 'round. every blonde head had your heart hammering, but it was never the right engine. never the right head. never benny. johnny'd tried to get you to come down to the clubhouse, but you didn't wanna look desperate (even though you were). it was just so hard to think about. all you could see in your mind's eye was benny splayed across a bar stool, lap empty, hand wrapped around a whiskey glass when it should've been around your throat.

"m'missin' you so much." you wouldn't have assumed he missed you much at all with how radio silent he'd been since leavin' over a month ago. your girls told you that if benny really cared he would make more of an effort - wouldn't run off whenever things other than his dick got hard - an' yeah, you knew this was likely true, but he was enigmatic and enticing and everything.

"wan' you to come see me."

you should've hung up the phone right then, but you didn't. and you definitely shouldn't've pulled a sleep shirt over your nightgown n'sneakers on your bare feet, but you did. now here you stand - peerin' up at benny's front door - tryin' to tell yourself it's all right. nothin' to be nervous over. but you were nervous, so you counted the steppin' stones - 14 - and then there he was.

he looked good, there was simply no denying it. when it was particularly hot, benny wore nothing beneath his colors n'tonight you could see his bare chest glistening with sweat from the glow of the porch light. moths and june bugs spun themselves dizzy 'round him, but he didn't flinch. his sights were set, smile wan and excited and focused on you.

"c'mere." benny's voice had a medicinal quality about it - you figured that out some time ago. his voice was a salve on sunburned skin. it was a cool mid-day rainstorm. it was enough to have your eyes flicking upward, your body moving forward, your mouth forming the shape of his name. "look at you," he practically purred. he seemed more coherent, which was great. you didn't like fuckin' benny when he was drunk - always fearin' it never meant the same as when he pressed himself into you sober. he held you at arms length, eyes traipsing the familiar paths his fingers and tongue had mapped repeatedly. "y'know, i could travel from here to fuckin' the ends of the universe n'never find a girl s'pretty as you."

"s'that what you're lookin' for when you leave?" the words escape your mouth before your brain can register the impact they will have, but benny doesn't seem all that deterred. he just shakes his head; half-hearted guilt tugging at the corner of his mouth as he lets ya go n'invites you inside. benny would never apologize for leavin'. that just wasn't his forte, but he'd make up for it. he always did.

the interior of benny's place is nicer than you'd expect n'it's all because johnny outright fuckin' refused to step foot in the place when benny'd first moved in. it was terrible, but now the trailer actually looks decent. s'not much: a small livin' space with a couch, a tiny kitchen, an even smaller bathroom, and a bedroom big enough for a few pieces of furniture, but it smells like benny: like motor oil and sandalwood and smoke and body wash and you wish they sold the scent in department stores because you'd buy up every bottle. it's the aroma you miss terribly when he runs. it's the scent you wish lasted just a bit longer on your bedsheets. it's now overwhelming as benny plods over, stubbing his cigarette out in the ashtray. hands unoccupied, he has nothing better to do with them than wrap 'em 'round your waist, tuggin' you into his slick embrace. his chin fits so nicely atop your head n'he's always told you that you were meant to be. "fuck soulmates. i think god s'got a big ass puzzle n'he just, tears it up. throws the pieces here n'there. but me'n'you, baby? we're always gonna fit together. m'always gonna find you." he wouldn't need to find you if he didn't run but when you're pressed so snugly together like you are now - well - he could say anything and you'd agree.

"look at me, darlin'. wanna see those eyes again. missed 'em so much." n'when you do look at him, you wish you hadn't. he looks better (somehow) than the last time you saw him: skin so clear, eyes so bright, smile taken from a fuckin' toothpaste commercial. it's unfair how good god made such a bad boy look. "there's my girl." and damn if his voice doesn't sound even better.

a half-hearted hum rolls from the back of your throat. you want nothing more than to be his girl, but he'd never really allow that. never really allow you to get close enough and the hurt must register on your face because benny's takin' your cheeks between his palms, eyebrows furrowing.

"what's goin' on, baby?"

baby. the word sounds so good rolling off his tongue. you wanna be his baby more than anything, but you say "nothin'" cuz that's all this will ever be.

"doesn't seem like nothin'. tell me." you think about it. could you, rather, should you tell him? the words are there, right there. right on the tip of your tongue; i miss you. i've missed you. i so badly wanted to see you. i want to be more than the girl you call when you want to fuck. the words are so hot you want to spit them out, but you can't say those things n'likely will never be able to. the words are toxic. poison. those words would assassinate this arrangement n'as much as it hurts, you know deep down you'd rather have pieces of benny than none at all so instead of speaking you rise on your tip toes and press your lips against his.

kissing benny is something you could never tire of. it's the delicate bite of his perfect teeth on your pillowy lip that has you opening your mouth - inviting him in - begging him to take. it's the taste of mint and cigarettes and liquor that lingers on your tongue that makes you long for more. but benny pulls away first - always does - n'that's when you notice the wrinkle in his brow is gone because he is no longer concerned about what's racketing around your brain. no. he's had a sample, and now he wants the whole thing.

"c'mere." it's an impossible command. you're already so close - any closer and you would - benny dips slightly, circling your thighs with his arms, pushin' you atop the high-backed couch where you wobble and clutch onto him which makes him smile but then everything changes because "want another kiss. missed that mouth so much." and you collide in a spit-soaked show of affection sure to bruise the flesh now scraping so deliciously against his beard.

this is familiar to benny. he knows where to touch you. knows how to caress your skin as he peels the shirt from your flushed torso and pushes the thin straps of your nightgown down. you're soft. he's always loved that about you. your voice. your hair. your skin. so supple. and there are times benny's gotta stop himself. he's gotta repress that primal urge to take, to claim, to mark but it's hard so hard because you are so soft. his agile fingers float down your neck, relishing in the plume of perfume that billows out as your body contorts closer and closer and closer. you're so responsive: gasping in the right places, arching into his hands so perfectly. your dainty inhales fuel him. he wants to do more. wants to hear more.

"you're gonna let me fuck you right here, aren't ya?" benny asks, pulling back to gauge your reaction. "missed me so much you're gonna let me fuck you on this couch, eh?"

"you're the one who called me." you say, smile wide and knowing as you feel benny's cock twitch. his eyes turn molten lapis. he had called you. he had missed you. but he wouldn't say it. couldn't.

"awfully mouthy," he clucks, pressing his mouth into yours for another taste. "why don't y'use it for somethin' else?"

before you, benny'd never been a fan of oral sex. i mean, he'd come around to enjoyin' it thanks to johnny but, it wasn't high on his list 'til you started suckin' him off any and every chance you got. for a mouth belonging to such a precious gal, he never would have expected the sinful things you could make him feel. n'now, knelt before him, he can barely fight the urge to shove his dick in your mouth.

"s'pretty. always so pretty." you hum. you got him out of his jeans in record time and thank god because it's probably a million degrees in the goddamn trailer. now he's free; cock out, dripping precum and he can see the pride puffin' up your chest. no other girl could get 'em like this - could rile him up 'til his cock was thick and heavy and veiny and hot to the touch - no one but you n'at the first whisper of your fingers, his head rolls back. his precum is good lubrication, but you need more. could always use more, so up you come, crossing your cute little feet under your bum, and then - fuck - you lean forward and spit on his heated skin. yeah, benny thinks he may cum from that alone.

"touch me, doll. c'mon."

"shh," your fingers form a loose circle 'round the base of his cock. "i've got you."

"jesus christ," its the feel of your lips on his thighs and your fingers on his dick that makes him squeeze his eyes shut. he's got one fist balled at his side, the other tucks its way into your hair because he's gotta do something. anything.

"y've still got your christmas tree up, so, y'know, could be insensitive what with the holidays n'all. chirstimas in july." and despite the fact that you've got his pulsing length so wet and hard in your hand - benny fucking laughs.

"you're so -" but whatever adjective he had planned to use flies from his mind the moment your mouth covers him. all he can think about now is not cumming. you don't need to know that he hasn't fucked another woman since the last time he was balls deep in you. you don't need to know that he hasn't jerked off in god knows how long in preparation for this night. the only thing that you need to know is that he fuckin' loves this. he just lets you work. just relishes in the feeling of having you there. of having your mouth on him. it's so heavenly. cavernous yet tight. wet and warm and "fuck - oh fuck - stop."

and you do with no hesitation. you pull away so quickly that strands of saliva trickle down onto your tits. okay. maybe not jerking off wasn't the best idea, benny determines.

"did i do something wrong?" your voice is husky, eyes wide and slightly frightened and benny thinks he may love you.

"no." he shakes his head, grabs your arms, pulls you up. "no. fuck - i wanna fuck you." he brushes his palm across your cheek, wiping the spit and precum away. "want to fuck you right here. on the couch. c'mon," he maneuvers you around, makin' it to where his bare ass is on the couch and you're hoverin' above him, smiling so cutely at him he's sure he's gonna explode. you're so fucking cute that it nearly suffocates him.

"gimmie another kiss." he breathes, cupping your cheek once more. your lips meet in a cacophony of sighs. relief slackens your shoulders and now anticipation builds because you know what's coming.

"benny,"

"mm?"

"unless you have rubbers tucked in the cushions," you have to fight through his kisses. "you can't fuck me here."

the words marinate. the ceiling fan bats them around like a cat does to yarn and then benny finally responds.

"let me fuck you raw."

there are a hundred good reasons why it's a horrible idea, but you can't conjure a single fucking one as your head bobs in agreement.

"yeah?" perhaps christmas miracles are still valid in july because holy shit. "yeah?"

"please."

"come 'ere then."

you're obedient. benny loves that about you. seconds later you're spreading your legs, shimmering with sweat as you fight to maintain your balance n'you look so hungry - so eager to please - so pretty n'he can feel your wetness seeping onto his bare thigh as you pepper tender kisses along his chest. you want this. you want it just as badly as he does. he can tell. those preening noises comin' from the back of your throat and the bite of your nails into his shoulder are the only things grounding him to this moment. he feels so light - like he could fuckin' float if you weren't sat atop him - but there is work to do. a certain set of things that need to be done before he can spear you on his cock.

"gonna stretch you open first," he tells you, pushing your hip back but you don't budge. your head shakes, lower lip juts out. no.

"i wanna feel it." you say, voice almost a whine. you're tired of waiting. tired of playing this game so you propel yourself onto your feet, nearly toppling as the cushion gives under your weight, but you've got this. you sweet capable being. "wanna feel you now." your right hand circles his cock. "just want you to be in me benny. jus' you." it's a confession spoken like gospel. n'with your help, his gushing head probes your wetness and benny's thoughts spiral recklessly. "ready?"

it's cute. the way you ask him. the way your pretty little head cocks to the side. it's even cuter the way your pussy so greedily takes his cock once benny gives you an answer. yes. a singular nod. then everything is hot. he's too close to the sun, but the burn is delicious.

every bump. every vein. every groove on his cock awakens something within you. your eyes are closed so tightly - you may rupture a vessel - but you don't care. you're full. so full n'he's only halfway in. it's never felt like this before. you're in uncharted territory so the first roll of your hips is exploratory. the second is more confident. the third is a plunge and benny is drowning.

"god. fuck." words to form coherent sentences have long since vanished from benny's vocabulary. and you? usually so deft with language, you're somewhat embarrassed at the foolishness of your grunts, but benny loves it. he watches you move from squinted eyes. you're fascinating; body shifting with ease up and down up and down up and down. the muscles in your stomach tighten and wan as his cock disappears deep in your cunt only to reappear seconds later dripping and glistening with remnants of your wet. it's hypnotic n'benny thinks you're magic and sweet and good but dirty - oh so dirty. his balls and heart squeeze simultaneously n'it only gets worse when you toss your arms around his neck. benny can feel your cool breath on his throat - it adheres to the damp indications you lips left behind - and your tits, god your tits press against the material of his colors and rub and rub and rub. it's intimate. it's too much. too long like this and benny knows he'll be spillin' his secrets and his seed and that's not how he wants this to go, not yet anyway.

the change in position catches you by surprise, he can see it on your face. those puffy lips part in confusion, but he silences your questions with a shattering kiss. your teeth gnash and spit slips down your chin as he bites your inhibitions away. he's got you beneath him now. missionary. his favorite because he just likes lookin' at you. likes being close, so close. he's in his element; forehead pressed against yours, mouth open, grunting obscenities as he pushes harder and harder and harder into your sobbing pussy. you're slowly disintegrating. the way your ankles lock around his spine perfectly aligns your clit with his pelvic bone and my god nothing has ever felt quite so good.

"benny," your voice is a dark whisper that grows brighter brighter brighter as he thrusts into oblivion. you want more. want it harder. and benny is happy to oblige. the sound of his nuts slapping against your soaked center reminds him of a fuckin' metronome. your pitiful little moans could put pornstars to shame.

"you're so fuckin' tight." and it's true. he's said it to other girls before out of courtesy, but he means it with you. "when i cum you're gonna take every drop, mm?" benny's ability to say such delivish things so close to your face drives you insane. it's as though he's tellin' you what the weather is gonna be tomorrow, or sayin' his favorite color. "s'my favorite pussy to fuck. no one feels like you." he should stop, but he can't. it's too good. you're so good. "only girl i wanna fill. only girl i wanna give my cum to."

if pride were a flower you'd be a fuckin' garden. confidence flourishes like ivy as he keeps. going. it's in this moment you know it's worth it. the hours waiting for him. the lonely nights. it's all worth it. benny is worth it.

"are y'gonna cum in me?" at the sound of your voice, benny's forehead crashes down on yours. his eyelashes are so long they kiss the tops of his round cheeks.

"fuck - yeah."

"yeah?" you angle your pelvis, gasping at the new sensation. n'benny knows what to do. knows how to send you over. snaking a hand down, his index finger rubs circles around your clit, dipping down, pullin' your shared juices up. you're not gonna last much longer n'as much as he wishes he could keep you here forever his fucking nuts are so tight. he's so close.

"fuck - baby. shit."

"do it deep. wanna have you leakin' out of me for days. want somethin' to remember you by." you've never spoken like this before - his sweet darling - where did this mouth come from? one hand squeezes your jaw. something to remember him by? he'll give you something. he pushes your head to the side, latching his teeth into the side of your neck. the rough yet delicate suck and soothing stroke of his tongue add another element to the amalgamation of pleasure, and now you feel like you're drowning.

"m'gonna cum." benny’s choked voice rasps in your ear.

"cum in me."

"fuck im gonna cum in you."

he couldn't pull out even if he wanted to. there's no willpower strong enough to allow him to extract his cock from your pussy. he's sure of it.

"need you to cum with me." his index finger circles around and around and around. "gotta cum when i tell you. yeah? gonna be a good girl n'listen to daddy?" your toes fuckin' curl, digging into the cushion. "use your words." he doesn't know - doesn't care - that your words have magically turned into alphabet soup; there are letters and sounds but no coherence, but it's no excuse. benny, devilishly, begins to slow. "use. your. words." each syllable is punctuated with a sharp thrust n'the head of his cock is wedging so deliciously against your spongy center that you nearly cum, but you don't. you're good. so good.

"m'gonna listen." you wail. "gonna be good." your reward is a kiss and the continuation of benny's deliriously fast pace.

"knew you would." it becomes hard to speak with you squeezing round him like that. his pleasure is melting into an unidentifiable mass. he knows nothing of isolation. his body no longer belongs to him. he can't tell where you start and he ends but he knows where you will finish. "gonna need you to cum, pretty baby." he's unable to do much more than whisper. "ready?" you nod. "ready?"

"please."

"now."

you couldn't hold back even if you tried. the first spurt of benny's cum is so warm you make a surprised little gasp. he's so deep, pumping his load so deep that the lower part of your abdomen has stretched in accommodation. your bodies flounder together; fingers pressing, lips melting, legs tangling. benny thrusts once, twice, three times more before he's spent. his body begins to still - his weight slowly pressing upon you before collapsing. your thundering heart could lull him to sleep if he'd allow it, but he can't allow it because unlike with other women; the lustful haze refuses to dissipate. post-nut clarity doesn't exist when the woman you fucked looks and feels the way you do and it scares benny so much that he collects you in his arms n'moves you off of him.

"i'll bring you somethin' to wipe off with." he doesn't look at you as he rises. instead he chooses to focus on how his legs don't feel like his legs. how the hot water won't warm up n'he can't give you a cold rag. his disappointment grows when he returns to find you already shrugging back into your nightgown. the pair of you tend to yourselves. you wipe benny's cum off your thighs and toss the rag into the dirty clothes pile on the floor. you try not to linger. you know it only makes things harder, but benny's gazin' at you with those eyes. he's fixin' your necklace and opening the door for you.

"gimmie a hug?" his bravado is gone. his voice is quiet, his arms are welcoming. you fool yourself into thinking he's gonna miss you too. you've got his cum dripping down your leg and he's got your heart in his hands but nothing has changed. things would never change. n'you wanna stay here - wanna stay with him for eternity - but if history repeats itself you will only have another minute in his embrace. he who holds your pieces together is the one responsible for their fractured state n'maybe you're a masochist. maybe you're in love with the wrong person. maybe none of it is supposed to make sense anyway.

when you part, you want to cry. benny kisses you. it's soft, a delicate kiss you wanna bottle and keep forever next to his scent. you worry that one day you will unknowingly have a last kiss with benny, but for now you allow yourself this moment. he won't promise to call n'you won't say goodbye. you'll just slip out into the night - probably call johnny usin' the payphone down the street and spend the rest of the night sobbin' into his neck.

but it's worth it. somehow even after it all, benny cross is still worth it.

[klttn]

hi !! could i request an alastor x bunny!reader where the reader is like an idol overlord ? also the reader is a major bimbo :3c could be nsfw as well !! ty !!!! ur writing is amazing !!! <3

⁺˳✧༚ ˚ 𝒷𝒾𝓂𝒷𝑜 𝒷𝓊𝓃𝓃𝓎 ｡୨୧˚

— 𝜗𝜚 alastor x f!reader

ᶻ 𝘇 𐰁 summary : you may be a very established overlord but alastor will always protect his bunny, especially after her shows, especially when she’s in heat. nsfw. violence. murder. its alastor here. soft dom alastor. finger sucking. tentacles… shh. praise.

“lay a finger on her pretty little head and i’ll rip yours off before you can take your next breath.” alastors static spat at an overly touchy low status overlord who thought it a good idea to try and grope his bunny backstage in front of all her closest, most powerful friends, just as she came into heat. his very underdressed bunny who was extremely vulnerable right now. what an idiot.

your show had just finished and your suppressants were wearing off, skin sticky and sweet with the glazing of sweat. you were so dizzy and losing coherent thought, the only thing on your mind was alastor and his comfort, his scent. “al,” you whined, ignoring the other man in front of you and his attempts to touch you. alastor twitched in frustration at the need in your voice.

“come on baby, you don’t go dressing like that unless you want somebody to touch you!” the overlord slurred, disregarding alastor and being unrelenting. his sleazy form lingering around you. it’s surprising he’s still breathing with the look on your partners face but he has far more important things to consider. you.

a soft, ‘fuck you,’ came from your lips in the direction of the scum, glaring at him, you could tell that annoyed the overlord.

the man gritted his teeth, fear of alastor apparently still not sinking in, “little bimbo, you better watch your mouth,” he sneered.

you looked down at your appearance and huffed, “you’re just mad that someone half your size in a tiny skirt is more powerful than you.” you snap triggering a proud smile coming across alastor’s face and rosie too from what you could see over his shoulder.

“coming from a little bunny getting bested by her heat,” the man got closer to you, your hand squeezing alastor’s thigh tight to let him know you didn’t need him yet, “one pump of my fingers and i’d have you leaving this asshole in seconds.”

the rest of the overlords watched in anticipation, not intervening, not because they didn't want to but because they knew alastor had this under control.

“i suggest, dearie, that you get out of here whilst you still can before i make you experience something so grotesque you’ll be begging for death.”

alastor looked toward rosie and the others, she seemed to be hinting at something, her desolate eyes switching to look at you and then to the low life, licking her lips . “what an idea, rosie dearest!” alastor exclaimed, “i could just,” alastor paused, voice deepening, “do this,”he rasped, slowly detaching you from his side to let rosie’s arms hook around you, her soft figure a comfort to you in alastors absence.

“it’s okay sweetie, just stay with me,” rosie’s soft demeanour soothing you in an attempt to distract you.

alastors size grew gargantuan, slowly stretching out his limbs, enough to swallow the perverted man whole. neon crosses forming over his sadistic smile and face, antlers bigger than before.

rosie’s loving arms squeezed you tightly, burying your face into her as to not see the carnage in your current condition, knowing how fragile you were whether it was showing or not. “rosie’s got you, honey.”

“if you ever breathe the same air as my darling girl again, i will make what im about to do to you look like child’s play.” alastors voice echoed, completely devouring him in his entirety before returning to his regular state as if nothing just happened. “well he tasted bitter.”

as rosie’s grip softened and your guard subsided, you felt that feeling start to surface, “al please,” your voice broke him out of whatever trance he appeared to be in, long tongue darting and licking his lips, predatory gaze falling to you.

“get thy rabbit out of harms way,” zestial spoke abruptly and tenderly, worry evident in his actions, rosie’s too.

alastors soft ears flushed back before scooping you up in his embrace, head tucked into his chest, “til next time, dears.” then before you knew it, you were out of the place.

the familiar ease of the hotel now filling you with a partial sense of relief. “shhh bunny, we’re home, nothing to hurt you now but me,” the gentle comfort of alastor’s voice rung in your ears. emotions finally rushing in, heart racing and head pounding after such an intense scene from your boyfriend. “darling?” your fluffy ear twitched, slowly raising your head to look at alastor as he guided you to sit atop the top of your bed. “tell me what you need.”

“need you,” a soft whimper fell from your lips, pulling alastor toward you. “please, need you close.” your voice was small and timid yet desperate. a stark contrast compared to your usual hyper excited and confident self.

“come here, my bunny,” alastor disregarded his jacket and backed up to the top of the bed, arms spread as you crawled gingerly into his lap, back flush against his chest, your hands now clutching his arms that moved to wrap around you. the side of your head resting on his bicep and your chin on his forearm. “good girl.”

“empty-“ you mumbled, nuzzling into him, “wanna be filled.”

alastor used his height advantage and arm to force you to look at him, “how, darling?” his eyes softened as he looked at you, “tell me how.”

a pretty colour of red, the same as alastors slacks, crept up your cheeks, confirming your embarrassment, “fingers,” you whispered, hushed and weak.

“where, bunny?” alastors free hand now cupping your face.

you wordlessly nuzzled into his hand, opening your mouth, needy and wanting. alastor got the hint, shifting his thumb to rest atop your tongue, sharp claw gently scratching the back of your throat as you closed your lips. you let out an involuntary hum as you begun softly sucking and lapping at the digit.

“what a sight,” alastor whispered to himself. “is that all you need, my love?” your wide eyes batted up at him, flustered expression covering your face as you slowly bucked your hips in his lap. “oh, how precious?”

a whip of darkness protruded out of alastor, sliding down your waist, all the way to your thigh. “i’ll make sure you’re full, pretty girl.” you voluntarily spread your legs, slutty outfit making for easy access, oh how alastor loved his bimbo bunny’s little skirts.

the blackness finally made its way to your cunt, nose twitching and a soft cry erupting from your lips, muffled from his fingers. this is all you wanted. all you needed. a cute moan of relief resonated as your pussy was stretched, tentacle fitting so perfectly to your walls.

“this is all you needed isn’t, bunny?” alastors hand moving to stroke your soft floppy ears. “you and i both know that forgettable cretin could never come close to how i make you feel.” you nodded, subtly deepthroating his thumb as you did so.

alastor breathed softly, “good girl.”

A/N : bunny reader is my absolute favourite, i'm in LOVE with writing it <3 thank u so much lovie for this request !!

[emmalandry]

⋆⸜ ⚘ ⸝⋆ .* ⚘ ⋆*⋆⸜ ⚘ ⸝⋆ .* ⚘ ⋆*⋆⸜ ⚘ ⸝⋆ .* ⚘ ⋆

𝙳𝚊𝚢 𝟽: 𝙼𝚒𝚛𝚛𝚘𝚛 𝚜𝚎𝚡

⋆⸜ ⚘ ⸝⋆ .* ⚘ ⋆*⋆⸜ ⚘ ⸝⋆ .* ⚘ ⋆*⋆⸜ ⚘ ⸝⋆ .* ⚘ ⋆

Gf!Ethan sneaking into your bedroom, costume clad body stalking around in the dark waiting to pounce on you.

It’s a little past 11 pm and he creeps down the hall to your room and peaks through the crack. He sees your fingers stuffed beneath your panties as you whimper and whine. “E-ethan.” You moan out his name so sweetly.

How’s he meant to hold back when you’re spread out so deliciously, and all for him? Wow. He must be one lucky man.

The door flies open and your eyes go wide as the large masked figure stalks its way towards you and you rip your fingers from your cunt.

“W-what do you want?” You voice is shaking with fear. “Please Mr.Ghostface, don’t kill me. i’ll do anything.” Your lips are pouty as you beg for you life and ethan tilts his head to the side before pointing the knife at your panty-clad cunt.

You look back up at him, eyes wide and glossy as tears threaten to spill over. “Okay.” Is all you say and he practically jumps at you. Grabbing your legs and pulling you to the end of the plush mattress.

Allowing his hands to roam your soft skin before slicing your panties right off your body and letting a glove covered hand trace your slit.

A chill runs down your body at the coldness but all you can do is lay back and take it. A little ‘ah~’ leaves your body and he tilts his head down at you. “S-sorry. ‘s just cold.” and he nods before sheathing his slender fingers inside your dripping cunt.

You moan at the fullness, eyes rolling back as he thrusts his fingers in and out of you. You’re pawing at his cloak and giving him pleading, puppy dog eyes. “Please fuck me, sir. I’ll be ‘s good for you. Please.” And he nods.

Flipping you onto your stomach and hiking your ass up. You can see yourself in the mirror right across from your mattress. The hulking man is behind you, cloak pulled up just enough for him to spring his cock free and you barely have a moment to see it before he’s slipping it inside you.

You whimper at the feeling, his cock is so long and thick but he’s gentle. Allowing you to get used to his size before slowly thrusting forward and pulling back. “Fuck. ‘s good.” you moan out the words, theyre barely coherent but you can’t even think straight with the way he’s pounding your poor body.

You could fall limp at any moment from the cockdrunk feeling thats overtaking you. You make sure to stare right into the mirror at the man whos taking you from behind. Your pussy is clenching around nothing as he wraps his big, strong arm around you and grabs you by the throat, pulling you upwards toward him.

His other hand leaves your hip quickly to rip off the mask before putting his hand in its original spot. “See what you do t’ me, you sweet dumb thing. Can’t believe you’re letting me take you just like this. What if i was a just some stranger who would slit your pretty little throat right now. Huh?”

Your eyes are crossed at the feeling of his cock kissing your cervix and all you can mutter out is a small “ ‘s good eth. ‘m close.” He can tell you’re telling the truth. He can tell by the way your little cunt is clenching around his length. Trying to milk him for everything he has.

His hand reaches down to play with your swollen clit. Earning a scream that rips straight from your throat and he can see the creamy ring forming around his cock and he fills you up just at the sight.

⋆⸜ ⚘ ⸝⋆ .* ⚘ ⋆*⋆⸜ ⚘ ⸝⋆ .* ⚘ ⋆*⋆⸜ ⚘ ⸝⋆ .* ⚘ ⋆