#gods i want to crawl out of my skin or something everything feels wrong and i hate it
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I'm so fucking tired of fucking everything
#me#depression#im aware. im fucking aware that is the fucked up chemical imbalance but im also fucking tired of that#is this life? forever? the ducking world burning down working till death and fighting my own brain?#is it even fucking worth it#gods i want to crawl out of my skin or something everything feels wrong and i hate it
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Playing House
Synopsis: literally just that scene from Jennifer's Body but hornier and with Ellie like I can't stress that this is just a hornier version of the scene from Jennifer's Body but badly written and hornier.
Warnings: not quite fingering, not quite grinding... a secret third thing ? mdni for... pretty obvious reasons; reader and Ellie are best friends (like Jennifer and Needy); Ellie's a little loser-ish but she figures out what she's doing; Ellie calls the reader mama... I don't wanna talk about it
Word Count: 673... I don't have much to say
On TLOU2 & Palestine
“We can play mommy and daddy like we used to.”
Ellie feels like she can’t move. You’ve managed to pin her in place with one sentence, your eyes wide as you look up at her like she could break your heart if she answers wrong. It’s not fair at all; you look incredible- like you belong here.
Your skin is glowing as you sit up on your knees in her bed. It’s mesmerizing, and she can’t figure out what’s appropriate to look at when you look like this, eyes all low and legs exposed, “Is that my Evil Dead T-Shirt?”
She watched you closely as you nodded back at her, your teeth sinking into your bottom lip. You weren’t even trying to play fair. Her mouth felt so dry she wasn’t sure if she should speak again- especially when all she could think about was the two of you back in middle school, practicing kissing and playing House under the covers of her childhood bed. She could feel the heat rising in her cheeks, god, this was so embarrassing.
She attempted to wet her lips as you crawled toward the edge of her bed to touch her. You placed your hands on her shoulders and leaned in to whisper into her ear, “We used to have so much fun together.”
You were right. She’d felt every inch of you over the years, tasted so much of you back when you were just exploring. You were her best friend long before you were gushing about the boys at school. And you were all grown up now, just like her. God, you were so pretty she needed to touch you and here you were, practically begging for her.
It was almost as if she’d been waiting for permission all night, and now she’d gotten it. She placed a hand between your thighs, “Oh, mama, are you all wet for me?”
You nodded back at her, your mind already fuzzy. This was just what you needed and she was always so warm, the feeling of her touching you was already too much. You would do anything she wanted at this point; everything was for her.
Ellie took her other hand and took hold of your jaw, forcing you to shake your head no instead, “I don’t know if I believe you.”
It’s amazing. One second you were on your knees, pulling her in, and the next you’re on your back and at her mercy. She’s so pretty like this, with a little wrinkle in the middle of her forehead as she concentrates on spreading you open. She’s already glowing from her sweat, cheeks ruddy and full and her tongue peeking out of her mouth as she thinks of what to do with you.
Now you’re the pathetic one, but you can’t even find it in you to be embarrassed. Instead, you’re whining her name like she’ll take pity on you if you hit the right note. Your back hurts from how hard it’s arching off of the bed when she decides to show enough mercy to press the heel of her palm right where you need it. You could cry when she doesn’t pull away when you lift your hips to grind into it.
Instead she coos at you like she’s doing you a favor. It’s too much and not enough but she’s whispering to you like a promise, “I know, mama. I’m gonna take care of you, I promise.”
You want to call her a liar. You don’t feel very taken care of, but then her fingers are spreading you open and there’s no point in arguing when you’re so close. Now you’re babbling. Begging for something you can’t quite identify- anything really. You’d give anything to cum but she’s toying with you like the sound of her fingers spreading your wetness- making such a mess- isn’t pure torture.
“Could make you a real mama,” She takes her fingers into her mouth before she begins to practically chastise you, “but you have to be patient.”
Housekeeping: I like never write smut or x reader fics, but I have needs and thoughts; this divider is from @saradika ; I believe @seattlesellie infected me with the "Ellie calling you mama" bug, but my memory is awful
sorry, God for writing this on Christmas Eve, tipsy a few hours before getting ready for a Candlelight service; I'm black and a femme lesbian and this is real Ellie focused so it doesn't matter, but it's my truth <3
#ellie williams#the last of us#tlou2#ellie williams x reader#ellie x y/n#ellie x you#ellie williams smut#ellie williams x you#ellie williams tlou#jennifer's body#lesbian#sapphic#wlw#zavi learns to write♍
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Dreaming of Painter on Floor Two | EP. 2
MASTERLIST | KINK: ORAL
🗝 It's exactly like the Pink Palace, only a thousand times better. It helps that the beautiful man upstairs is infatuated by you. Maybe the buttons for eyes isn't too bad.
3.7k words
warnings! MDNI18+, fem!reader, oral (f!rec), fingering, hyunjin has button for eyes (duh), face riding (brief)
The tunnel is felt material. It’s all smooth and soft as you crawl your way to the Otherside.
Whatever the Otherside may be.
You can’t see much other than the opened crawlspace straight ahead. It looks identical to the one you came from, but the feel is…different.
It’s welcoming. Though you’re roughly halfway across, there’s a warmth pouring from the other door that beckons you closer. It’s like a ray of light on a cold autumn day, and you’re a cat wanting nothing more than to bask in it.
So you do. You smile when you reach the Otherside, putting a hand forward to push the door fully open and to see your living room.
Wait? What? Did you crawl the wrong way?
The smile on your lips turns into a confused frown, but you squeeze through the opening anyway. It’s not until you stand and finally look around that you notice it’s not quite the same. The boxes are gone, and rather than the dirty couches you begged Chan not to bring in the middle of the room, the ones here are clean.
The only thing that vastly differs is the painting on the wall. The boy in blue is not crying over his ice cream. Instead, the scoop sits perfectly on his cone and he smiles hungrily at his dessert.
Okaaaay?
You suppose it does make sense to dream about the apartment. The rumors you’ve heard and the anxiety you felt moving, maybe this is your brain's way of coping.
But, damn, how disappointing. Maybe you weren’t necessarily expecting a terrible nightmare, but at least something…fun.
Whatever. Hopefully, Chan and Changbin are dreaming of something more exciting. You consider going back into the tunnel before the kitchen light flickers on. Even the bulb doesn’t have that buzzing sound it normally would. It’s a much warmer tone that says, I’m in here!
Who though? Did your friends decide to make a cameo in your dream? Each step closer is like a rollercoaster. It fills you with anxiousness, excitement, and everything in between.
All that wonder fizzles into confusion again when the kitchen is utterly empty. There’s a hint of bacon and eggs as if someone was cooking only seconds ago. It’s the note on the table, however, that catches your attention the most:
I’M WAITING FOR YOU UPSTAIRS :) SEE YOU SOON <3
This has Changbin written all over it. You smile at the thought of him appearing in your dream despite sleeping beside him. Of course, you’re the one conjuring him here, but when you wake and tell him, Changbin would quickly say, ‘Of course, I was there! I just can’t get enough of you.’
You take the note and skip to the front door, wondering what your dream-Changbin has in store tonight. Does he feel bad about making you choke on his cock and wants to make up for it? He did say he wanted to use his tongue. Maybe you went to sleep thinking about it so much you decided to dream about it.
All the different ways he can and has swirled his tongue on your cunt come to mind, but opening the door silences them all.
It’s…
“Oh my god.”
Beautiful.
The grass is green. The sky is blue. The flowers are alive. It’s nothing compared to your actual front yard. Even the stars gleam with excitement, as if happy you’re here. The air isn’t chilly when you step out like it normally would be. The breeze in the night is so gentle on your skin, like a hug from someone who’s missed you dearly.
Changbin…he can wait. Yeah, maybe your legs are still a little sticky being that you got excited and aren’t wearing underwear, but none of that matters. The scene in front of you is mesmerizing and it takes a strong gust of wind to keep you from walking down the porch.
Leaves pick and blow in front, causing you to see how they trail to the stairs and up.
Ah, he’s really trying to get your attention.
You giggle and clutch the note a little tighter. “I know. I know. I’m coming.”
-
Knock. Knock. Knock.
Something clutters on the other side of the door. You grin at the thought of Changbin panicking, trying to clean the room before letting you in.
“Hellooo!” you press your ear to the door. “I’m waiting out here!”
“I-I know! I’ll be there in a sec!”
The way you jolt is almost like you’ve been electrocuted. That’s not Changbin’s voice. That’s not even Chan’s voice. It’s softer than theirs’, almost nervous. You don’t have much time to try and figure out who it belongs to before the door opens.
He’s tall, his narrow build makes him seem even taller. His hair curls at his neck, long and dark.
The fullness of his lips and the wideness of his eyes go over your head. You’re stuck staring at the dark pits of his eye sockets.
Black buttons for eyes.
“Oh shit.” It slips out before you can even register them leaving your lips. His eyebrows cross, and despite not having pupils, you know it’s from confusion. Maybe even some interest.
“I’m sorry. You’re not…you’re not who I thought you were. They don’t have b-b-buh…”
“B-b-b-buttons? Of course I’m not who you were thinking of.” His buttons gleam mischievously. "I’m better.” He widens the door and grins, hardly giving you any time to comprehend the person - the being - in front of you.
He turns inside, craning his neck back and pursing his thick lips. “Well, aren’t you coming?”
You take a deep breath. The pounding of your heart is subdued by his aloofness: his curious…buttons and the beckoning of his slender finger. Plus, you’ve heard you only dream about someone you’ve already met. Or at least seen. Perhaps you’ve come across him at some point.
Your brain just decided to play a sick trick.
Exhaling, you walk through the door. The man waits until you’re fully inside before shutting it and the lights in the room brighten immediately.
Canvas, brushes, and colorful rags messily lay on the floor. Art stains the floor and now that you’re standing right beside him, you see it’s on his hands as well.
“I was painting when you knocked.” He sees your staring. “I tried putting some stuff away but…I tend to work a little messy.”
You wander further into the room. His artwork ranges from the moon in the sky to a black cat perched on a branch. As you keep exploring, you see the painting of you.
Not just you, but your roommates. The three of you are outside, the grass notably browner, and talking while the moving truck drives up the hill. The perspective is drawn from the higher window, right where the second floor is.
Goosebumps travel on your skin. No wonder you felt like something was watching before you walked through the front door. “You… saw that?”
The man comes closer and crosses his arms, squinting like he’s evaluating his piece. “Yup. I mean, I live here too, you know? Just on the Other side.”
“The Other side?”
He nods. “Yeah, every place has one. This is the Other side of the Pink Palace. Didn’t the place you lived at before have one?”
Besides the random dreams of the rooms being switched and the walls curing in, none felt like this. “I guess. I mean, a dream is a dream. Right?”
Something like danger flicks in his expression. His buttons seem to darken, but he smiles just as quickly as it appears. “Right.”
You shake off the shivers and look back at the painting, noting how he managed to capture Changbin’s height and Chan's build even from up high.
“You’re really good um…” You never got his name.
“Hyunjin.” He smiles bashfully. “You can call me Hyunjin. And thank you. I love art. I just see something beautiful and I have to paint it.” He steps closer, your shoulder on his arm. “Like, I just wish I could see beauty forever. I have to keep it somewhere or else I’ll forget.”
“And you think this was beautiful? The dying grass and everything?”
Hyunjin laughs. “There’s more than that. There’s you.”
You whip your head to him. “Me?”
“Of course.” His smile is infectious. “I told you I like drawing beautiful things. Your friends are pretty too, but I would love to get a portrait of just you.”
You’re flattered, but also off-put. “Why? You wanna keep me forever?” It’s meant to be a joke, a play from his words earlier, but he doesn’t laugh with you. Hyunjin keeps his smile still like he’s controlling himself from saying what he truly wants to say. But he finds something to settle with. “I think a painting will do for now.”
Finally, he laughs. It doesn’t quite reach his buttons, but it’s better than the eerie silence. Hyunjin pulls a chair and tosses the rags off, gesturing for you to sit.
You’re all too conscious of the fact that you’re pantyless. Even as Hyunjin keeps insisting that you sit more comfortably, you keep your legs crossed at all times.
It’s after a few strokes of his brush that Hyunjin breaks the silence. “Can I be honest with you?”
You raise an eyebrow. You can’t help how your body goes rigid, making you move from the position you’ve been in, but he doesn’t seem to mind. “Yeah.”
Hyunjin’s buttons meet your eyes only for a brief second before he looks back at his work.
“I saw more than just you three moving in.”
Your thighs tense. The movement makes them rub against your cunt and hit your clit, but you can ignore the burst of pleasure to focus on the pit in your stomach. “What do you mean?”
“Like. I saw you… find the key.” Hyunjin clears his throat. “Saw you open the door. The mouse, ah, I didn’t mean to scare you.” There’s a faint smile on his lips. “But last night - tonight, I saw you and your friends���make love.”
You’d spit out water if you were drinking any. “I- I wouldn’t really call it making love but-”
“It didn’t matter what you call it. Sex, fucking, piping, none of it matters.” The sounds of his paintbrush cease. “I…I liked watching.”
There should be red flags going off. Hyunjin isn’t even looking at his painting. He isn’t even sitting on his stool anymore. He’s walking over to you and stopping just a few inches away, clenching and unclenching his fists like he needs to ground himself.
“I liked it a lot.”
There should be red flags, there’s none in your mind. All you can see is the memory of Chan and Changbin fucking you. How one cock stretched your mouth while the other stretched your cunt. You’d be lying if you said you aren’t trying to hump against your thighs subtly, but all you can do is pulse and bat your eyes innocently at Hyunjin like you’re embarrassed.
“D-did you?”
Hyunjin falls to one knee. He’s so close you’re scared he might smell the sex on you. “I did. And, I also saw that you couldn’t get kisses.”
His hand rests on your knee. He doesn’t have to use any strength to pry them open. You part your legs all on your own to put your cunt on display. Hyunjin inhales like he’s starstruck. His buttons seem to shine and he swipes over his bottom lip hungrily.
“I can do that for you now.” He leans in, lips ghosting over your inner thigh, and presses a gentle kiss to it. “If you’d like.”
Okay. You need a mental check-list:
One: He has buttons for eyes
Two: He’s from another world (apparently)
Three: He’s been watching you.
Four: HE HAS BUTTONS FOR EYES
But despite all that, you opt to tell yourself this is all a silly dream and nod, threading your fingers through his hair to guide him closer. Hyunjin lets his tongue trial the softness of your skin before finding your cunt. It’s not his tongue he prods it with, but his lips.
He’s kissing you as if it were your mouth. Soft, gentle pecks just on your clit. The sound of his lips smacking your own fills the room soon, and you widen your legs so he has full range.
But his tongue doesn’t make an appearance yet. Hyunjin trails his lips low to your entrance so he can kiss you there too, getting acquainted with every inch of your pussy. It feels way more intimate than if he were to use his tongue. Hyunjin pulls your skin taunt so he can properly plant his kitten kisses.
It’s when his lips are on your clit that he sucks. Your nub enters his mouth suddenly and you moan. Finally, his tongue swipes over you. It’s so much hotter than you would have imagined, and when he lets your cunt go, he licks a stripe up.
“Fuck.” Your legs threaten to close from the stimulation. You’re already shaking, but Hyunjin has just started to eat you properly.
He smiles with his tongue prodding your entrance. “Sensitive still?” It turns into a grin when he finds your clit again, flicking his tongue back and forth just to watch you grip the chair until your knuckles turn white.
The room erupts in giggles. Hyunjin can’t contain his laughter when your glossy eyes cross.
“Dick.”
His tongue moves back into his mouth, taking a string of arousal with it. Hyunjin moans at your taste, his throat bobbing as he looks up.
“Yeah. I bet you’d like that right now.” One of his fingers slides into your entrance. There’s hardly a stretch, but you squeal anyway. The tip of his finger feels so deep that you can’t stop clenching.
“Look at how you act with just a finger.” Hyunjin can’t look away from your cunt swallowing his digit. “Tight fucking pussy. No wonder why you always need it fucked.”
You mewl at his words. It only adds to the pleasure building in your stomach. Pools of arousal leak onto his finger down his wrist. You know he can see the cream oozing from your throbbing hole. He seems almost entranced by it.
“Are two cocks even enough for you?” Hyunjin’s buttons lock with your eyes. “You had one in your mouth and one right in here. And you’re still wanting more.” His finger curls inside. You swear it’s touching your cervix, squeezing so much that your vision nearly goes black.
“You gonna fuck me?” You don’t know how you manage to speak. It comes out more as a challenge than a question, but Hyunjin perks up anyway.
He slows his finger, deep in thought. His lips are still shining with your arousal when he licks them.
His answer is another digit sliding into your cunt. Now you can feel the light stretch. You completely still for the first time, drinking in the feel of his knuckles dragging up and down your walls.
It’s normally hard to cum from just being fingered, but Hyunjin seems as if he’ll get it on the first try.
“I don’t think you can even handle my fingers, baby.” You can feel his warm breath on your cunt. “Feels like you’ll cum any second.”
You’re trying to hold out, to ignore how his fingers hit that perfect spot and wiggle. You can feel your clit throbbing every time he buries his digits deep, and Hyunjin can’t help but take it into his mouth again.
A near-scream leaves your swollen lips when he licks you. Hyunjin doesn’t hold back in ravishing, nose digging into your swollen nub so his tongue can flick your folds. The pumping of his fingers only quickens, and you can hear how your cunt gushes with every piston of his hand.
“Yesyesyes, I’mma cum. Dontstopdontstop.”
You tug on his hair harshly. It’s almost like you’re trying to pull him off from how raw your cunt is getting, but Hyunjin knows to keep going. The spasming of your walls and your moaning only spurs him on even if your yanking makes him groan.
He only has to pump you a few more times before you come undone. Your stomach caves and your pussy feels like it’s on fire. You can feel the dribbling of your thick cream running down Hyunjin’s fingers.
His digits slow, but they don’t come to a full stop. Hyunjin lets you ride out your orgasm on his face and hand, uncaring for how you move his head down and up down messily on your pussy. He moans with you, making sure to keep his tongue stiff so you can rub your clit on it as you please.
It’s when your grip loosens that he pulls out. You whine from the loss, bucking your hips to catch his fingers, but meeting his lips instead. He kisses you gently, similar to when he started before your eyes turn droopy and your skin glows from the post-orgasm.
You widen your eyes when he pulls away. You nearly forgot about his buttons when you see them again, but you don’t flinch or look in horror this time. Instead, you wrap your legs around his waist when he stands and leans down to place his lips on yours.
You can taste yourself on him. The scent and everything about the kiss feels so real. Even his clothed cock pressing against your bare cunt throbs realistically. You giggle in his mouth, grinding your hips to hear him groan. “Now what? You gonna fuck me?”
Hyunjin smiles with you. He pulls away to make sure he can see you, really see you. It’s one beat of silence that passes, but the intensity of his buttons makes it seem like an eternity.
“Now, you wake up.”
The worst part about dreams is forgetting them seconds after you wake. But even as you open your eyes to the sunlight streaming in through the window and sit up, you seem to remember everything.
The upper level, the paintings, Hyunjin, and the buttons.
And of course, the ache between your thighs helps to keep the memories fresh. You should be too tired to get turned on by his plush lips and soft tongue, but your body seems to be awake almost immediately thinking about it.
Chan and Changbin aren’t here to help you with morning sex. Based on the letter they left on you on the bed, they’ve gone to the studio.
Workaholics.
It still takes a second to get your legs to move without shaking. Your wet dream felt so realistic, so tangible. You could feel his mouth on yours if you tried. You can remember how his buttons gleamed between your legs.
Too real. So real.
You need to touch some grass.
The Pink Palace’s property is huge. You thought the dying garden was a sight to see, but the little woods in the back quickly became your new destination.
If you ignore the creepy atmosphere and dying October trees, you can see this area as bewitching. You like the crunch of dead leaves beneath your boots and the twisting branches. You keep following the pathway until you stumble upon a fairy ring.
Weird. The mushrooms seem to circle perfectly, and you can't stop yourself from stepping right in the middle.
“Stop!” a voice calls in the distance. “Don’t stand there!”
You scream when you hear an engine revving. There’s not enough time to move when the motor rides down the top of the hill. All you feel is dirt hitting your face and strong arms swooping you until you are no longer surrounded by the fungi.
“Put me down!” Your fists connect with his back. Your shouting makes your kidnapper shout, and you swear you can hear the hissing of a cat somewhere.
“Owowow! Stop that!”
You’re set on your feet moments later. The rider stops in front of you to hop off his bike and kick the stand. You’re clutching at your chest when he takes off his helmet, showing a rather shy expression and wide eyes.
Okay, so not a kidnapper. But a weird guy for sure. It doesn’t help that his black cat sits on a tree stump, blue eyes narrowed accusingly towards you.
That cat looks like just the one in Hyunjin’s painting.
“Geez.” The man rubs his back, arms bending awkwardly. “You an MMA fighter or something?”
“Who are you?” His comment flies right over. There’s still some adrenaline thrumming in your veins, but you cross your arms and try to act unbothered. “Where did you even come from?”
“Oh.” He turns pink. The man rubs the back of his neck timidly. “I’m Han Jisung. I was riding my bike up there when I saw you walking into the woods. I didn’t mean to uh…follow you.”
The cat stretches uninterestedly when you point a finger at Han Jisung. “You’re stalking me?!”
“No! No, I was just-”
“I don’t like being stalked, not by stalker-weirdo-freaks, or their stupid cats!”
The feline hisses.
“H-Hey! Don't call him that.” Jisung walks over to the cat, petting it behind the ear. “He’s sensitive. And he’s not mine. Well, maybe a little. I like to feed him at night. He leaves me little dead things as presents. It’s cute.”
You nod slowly. “...right”.
“And I know who you are. You just moved into the Pink Palace, right? My grandma owns the place.” He moves his hand away from the cat that chirps in protest.
“She stopped renting out after…everything.”
You know exactly what he’s talking about, but you can’t help but press. “After everything?”
“Oh, you know.” He laughs nervously. “Just costs a lot to keep a building as old as that one running. Maintaining the upper and lower levels even though they’re closed. Maybe she thought having tenets would help with the bills.”
But he’s talking too fast, too much. Almost as if he’s trying to find something you’ll buy while he flicks the kickstand up and hops on his bike.
“But uhhh, I hope you’re liking the place! Old houses like that are full of mystery and history.” Jisung lightens up. “Oh! That rhymed. Haha. Uh, be careful where you step next time.” He gestures to the fairy ring. “You were standing on a well.”
You look at the mushrooms. “A well?” But his response is to start the engine. You take a few steps back and watch as he drives up the hill, leaving the stray cat behind.
It looks at you curiously. There’s a shine in its eye that feels more than just an animal. “What? Don’t tell me you’re gonna be my stalker too.”
#smut#skz smut#stray kids smut#stray kids#skz#skz hyunjin#skz hwang hyunjin#hyunjin smut#horror october!#October#hyunjin stray kids#hyunjin#stray kids hyunjin#hwang hyunjin
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SAY IT: LUFFY x Y/N
(cw: sex, luffy asking you to say dirty things, breeding kink, spoilers post wano)
(a/n: i am giggling like a maniac)
words: 1.9k
****
Luffy loves hearing the sound of his name.
It’s usually in distress or anger, that someone calls his name after he’s done something wrong. But when you say his name, all whispered and broken, his hips pounding into yours as he does something right for a change, over and over again…it’s addicting.
No sarcasm, no hits over the head.
Just your arms around his shoulders as he makes you squeal his name in pleasure.
“Again,” he pants, hair sticking to his forehead with sweat, “Say my name again.”
“Luffy!” You yelp out, after a particularly sharp thrust. He’s got your legs draped over his arms. He growls, something deep and low in his throat, before slowing down. He hits it slow and deep, staring down at you with his jaw jut forward.
“Again.”
Luffy has gray eyes—black in the dark—and his pupils are blown. He has sharp clavicles and broad shoulders, scars on his forearms and bruises on his knuckles. His hands are strong and wide.
He sinks his fingers into the flesh of your thighs, holding your legs open as he sits on his knees. You reach up to run your fingers through his dark, sweaty hair. You push it far back enough to reveal his sharp widow’s peak. Luffy is an art piece.
“Say it, slut.”
He’s staring down at you, slowing his pace to a stop. You whine, missing his movements, the massaging of his cock inside you, and you kick. He wraps a thick hand around your knee, forcing your legs open wider.
“Say it.”
His eyes are burning with a fierce passion, the gray sparking obsidian in the blue dark of his cabin.
Your voice is stuck in your throat, suddenly so aware of his strength. He’s Mugiwara no Luffy. He’s the captain of the Straw Hat pirates. He has a fleet and a three billion berry bounty.
He beat Kaido.
He’s liberated countless lives.
He’s eaten the human-human fruit, mythic type, Nika.
He’s a god.
And he’s asking you to say his name.
Luffy swallows, suddenly dropping to his elbows on either side of your head. He buries his face in your neck and shudders out a heavy breath.
“Please, baby,” he moans, “Please say m’name, sounds so good when you scream my name, your voice is so pretty baby, please say it~” He whispers in your ear, his breath tickling your skin as his hips start to shallowly thrust into yours.
You wind your fingers in his hair, lips at his ear, as you whisper what he wants to hear. “Luffy,” the first breath of his name is barely audible, “Luffy, Luffy, Luffyyyy~,” you drawl out his name as he groans. His hips speed up.
“That’s it baby, lemme hear ya,” his arms circle your shoulders and upper back, holding you to him in missionary. He rocks against you. “Don’t stop,” he whines into your neck, “Please keep goin’, wanna hear my name when I cum, please baby?” His words are dirty, slurred out and drunken. Luffy’s always like this: demanding one minute and pleading the next. He’s everything to you.
“Luffy, yes captain, Luffy fuck yes—!” Your whispers turn to cries, turn to prayers, turn to whines.
“Luffy Luffy Luuffyyyy~!”
“That’s it, babygirl, just like that,” he croons as his thrusts turn hard and fast. “Take it f’me baby, take it~”
So you do.
You cum around Luffy’s cock with a wail, a shudder, a release. He giggles as he sits up to feel the wetness on his abdomen. He examines the squirt on his palm with a raunchy smile.
“So good f’me, squirtin’ like that,” he mumbles, grinning at your blush.
He crawls back over you, softly laying his weight down on top of you. He presses soft little kisses to your cheeks and forehead. “Hm?” He whispers, making sure you’re okay, “Like that, hm, baby? S’good, isn’t it?” Luffy’s voice is low and cloying. You whine, nodding as you wind your arms around his shoulders. He’s always so sweet to you in bed.
Luffy snickers a little, speeding up.
The feel of his cock is heaven.
“What if—ah—what if I wanna fill ya up?” He hides his face in your neck, licking a stripe up to your jaw. He smooches beneath it, behind your ear, along your chin. His voice rasps low as he dirty talks you into oblivion. “Wanna pump ya full of my cum, wanna see it pourin’ outta ya…” He speeds up a little, “Wanna fuck a baby into ya,” he presses his forehead to yours, his hips snapping in place. He’s got you on your back, legs splayed over his arms as he crushes you into the bed. “Ganna fuck ya full of my kids, hm, sweetheart? Wan’ captain’s kids?”
His words burn holes into your sanity: fully sending you over the edge of desire. You cum around his cock with shudders and a gasp that makes Luffy giggle to hear it.
He slows.
“Say it, baby~” He whispers in your ear, his body pressing hot and heavy against yours. You’ve melted into the bed. His hips are now lazily thrusting against yours in a slow, arrhythmic pace. “Say it or I won’t speed up,” he giggles, pulling back to stare at your face. “Say how bad ya wan’ it,” he murmurs, tracing your face with careful fingers. He’s staring down at you in awe, hips all but stopped as he waits for your answer.
You squirm, the covers all sweaty and tangled beneath you. Luffy’s breeding kink only comes out when he’s really riled up. His sweet face is flushed, all amber gold with strawberries. He’s smiling, even as he starts to pull out.
“Want it!” You squeak, not wanting to lose even an inch of his cock inside you. He slows, pushing back in with a shit-eating grin on his face.
“Want what, baby?”
You pout.
“No fair…,” you mumble, squirming around. He giggles, sitting up on his knees so he can hold your hips in place. “S’embarrassing…,” you whine. He arches an eyebrow.
“Embarrassed to say how bad ya need captain’s cum? Dontcha need it, though?” He asks curiously, tilting his head. As if he actually didn’t know the answer.
You scoff.
“Fine, I need it,” you whisper, lips pouting as you turn your head to the side. Luffy grips your cheeks in one hand, suddenly rough as he forces you to look at him. His eyes are a sharp black as he stares down at you with a cold curiosity.
“Not good enough,” he states. He sits up, and pulls out halfway. His abs shudder with heavy breaths. He pins you to the bed with his gaze. “Say how bad ya need it. I know you’re a slut f’me,” he pulls out a little more, and you whine for the lack of him. He grins. “See?”
Fuck.
You don’t know why you hesitate, something about the intensity Luffy gets when he’s like this…it’s electric.
Luffy pulls out all the way.
“Guess ya don’t want it,” he says with a shrug. He reaches for his hat on the foot of the bed, placing it on his spiky black hair. Just as he’s about to stand, you kick a leg out to stop him. You sit up, grabbing for his arm. Your fingers squeeze around his rock hard bicep. Fuck.
“Need it.”
Luffy looks at you the way he looks at food. Ravenous. He’s over you in an instant. He doesn’t need to ask you again; you’re babbling for him.
“Need you so bad, Luffy! Need your cum inside me,” he’s positioned himself over you, sitting on his knees again, “Wanna feel it, wanna feel—,” you hiccup, stumbling over such dirty words, “Wanna feel you pump me full—of your cum,” you whisper, as Luffy lines himself up with your entrance. He tsks, shaking his head.
“Louder.”
You squeeze your eyes shut, “Luffy! Want it so bad!” Your voice is cracked, almost foreign with how lustful it sounds to your own ears. “Want—want your kids, Luffy, wanna feel you fuck a baby into me!”
Luffy smiles, and finally, finally pushes all the way back in.
“That’s a good princess,” he says, low. His hands sear into your hips, as he pulls you flush against him. He’s big.
He smirks. “Now, was that so bad?”
You huff, still hot from the filthy words he’s made you say.
Luffy starts fucking you slowly, eyes locked on the place where you connect. He drags his cock in and out, savoring every moment. He licks his lips. Head tilted back, he moans.
“Say my name, princess~”
You wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him in closer to you. He hooks one leg over his shoulder, lowering down to kiss you. You whisper a broken Luuffyyy into his lips.
“That’s good,” he pants, speeding up. His thrusts are smooth, languid. “Say my name til I tell ya ta stop. Don’t wanna ask anymore.” His voice is low, growled against your lips. You swallow his words like honey. You start speaking, and don’t stop.
“Captain Luffy, please Luffy please don’t stop fucking me, I need it so bad baby I need captain’s cock!” You heave in a ragged breath, pleasure clouding your senses until there is nothing else but him.
And that’s how he likes it.
Luffy overwhelms you, speeding up as he smothers you with his weight. It’s all you can do to hold on.
“Want your cum Luffy want it so bad,” you start rocking your hips upward to meet his thrusts. It’s still slow and sensual, as Luffy enjoys every minute of it. His eyes are closed in bliss.
“Luffy, captain, you’re so sexy baby you’re so good at sex, Luffy, don’t ever wanna stop Luffy Luffy Luffy!,” your voice starts rasping, gone pitchy with pleasure. You start saying his name over and over, all Luffy, Luffy, Luffyyy~
Luffy is starting to get close to his edge, you can tell by the way his eyes squeeze shut and his hands tighten on your waist. He pulls out for a second, flipping you over onto all fours before you can protest.
He shoves his way back into your pussy, hard and fast as a jackhammer.
“Fuck, sweets,” he pushes your head down into the mattress, finishing inside you with a rough thrust and a strangled groan.
He pumps you full, all white hot and gooey. Your pussy twitches as pulls out, as he watches it spill down your thighs. He swipes a finger through it, before bringing it up to your lips. “Suck,” he commands, so you do. His spunk tastes awful, but it’s his so you love it, no matter the taste.
Finally, Luffy sighs.
He flops backward on the mattress, while you stay bent over on all fours. You’re blissed out, happy as a satisfied cat. You see Luffy drag a hand down his face, before you poke his thigh with your foot. “Captain?”
He lets out a loud groan.
Luffy sits up on his elbows, all flushed and sweaty. “Say I did a good job?” he commands, suddenly shy as he asks for reassurance.
You sit up, crawling over to him even as his spunk still drips out of you.
You bring his hand to your face, his palm on your cheek, before you kiss it. “You’re the best.”
He smiles, and thunks his head back into the mattress. “So are you.”
You smile, and lean down to cuddle your captain. He’s soft and sweaty, all warm from exertion. Your bodies melt together, made perfectly for each other, as you both fall into a deep, pleasurable sleep.
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“spider! babe, there’s a spider in the house!”
your toast clatters on the plate as you drop everything and fling yourself onto the couch, four limbs scrambling to get off the floor. wide eyes seek out your boyfriend in the moment of chaos, and find him crouched on the tv stand, arms wrapped around the tv to hold him still.
“where?” you ask him, eyes dropping to the ground. he doesn’t need to reply because you spot the creepy crawly darting cluelessly about on the carpet, eight legs crawling about in frantic panic. “oh my god, gojo! do something about it!”
“are you kidding? you’re out of your mind if you think i’m getting anywhere near that thing!”
your mind blanks at his refusal. “you won’t have to get anywhere near it, dummy. just turn on your infinity and smack it or something!”
gojo remains wrapped around the tv, already shaking his head even before the last of your sentence leaves your mouth. “that’s not how it works.”
“really. then, please, remind me why you can’t just use your infinity to kill the spider.”
“listen, even if it’s on i’ll still be aware that i’m squishing the bug. all its bug juice will splatter out all over me!”
“over your infinity.” you correct him.
“you didn’t listen.”
you narrow your eyes at him. “i didn’t want to get rid of the wasp nest outside our house the other day either but i still had to do it. and i don’t even have something to keep them away from me!”
“you lost the rock paper scissors, i had no hand in that.”
“well.” you say. “technically you did. you had a hand, it was a rock.”
gojo rolls his eyes. “don’t be dramatic, i was supporting you.”
“from inside the house.” you recall his face beaming at you through the window, hand flashing a thumbs up as you were armed with only a rake and your willpower, and your frown deepens.
“and yet, i was still supporting you.” gojo pauses, considering. “you did well, by the way. i’ve never seen anyone smack a wasp mid air like that.”
the compliment lifts some anger off your shoulders and you grin. “thanks! i was proud of that too!” reality slaps you across the face, readjusting your expression. “wait, don’t think you can change the topic just by complimenting me.”
he shrugs. “it was worth a try.”
you pause. “does that mean you didn’t mean it?”
“no! you were actually cool.”
you smile again. “okay, thanks.”
“the sound it made was really satisfying.” he adds.
“right? like pow.” you gesture an explosion with your hands and watch as gojo gives you a skeptical look.
“really? i thought it was more like thwack.” his voice turns all dramatic at the last syllable and you scoff at his attempt.
“if this was a marvel comic the sound effect that would show up would be pow. in all red too, with crazy fonts.”
“this is like you saying math is red—”
“it is.” you cut in, matter-of-factly.
“you’re so wrong it hurts. english is red, math is blue.”
“why would math be blue?”
“because i feel sad doing math.”
“okay fair. but english is green.”
“none of them is green.”
you furrow your brows. not because of his horrid opinion, but because your eyes had found its way back on the ground. you notice a lack of legs, a lack of a small, black creature terrorising the carpet. "wait, where did the spider go?"
the complain on gojo's tongue dies, and he looks around, too.
your biggest fear becomes reality, and when you look back up at gojo to express your concern, it's there.
something was crawling up gojo’s arm. it fumbles up the fabric of his shirt, swimming through the folds. your mouth falls open but before you can scream out to warn him, gojo's eyes had already followed your gaze. “it’s on me!”
“flick it off!” you cry out in panic, weight shifting as you edge further away from him, though you were nowhere close.
gojo reaches up, prepping his fingers for an attack when you realise the trajectory was aimed towards you.
“wait, babe! flick it away from us!”
“then we’re going to lose sight of it!” the skin of his finger was turning white at the strength building up behind the flick. if the impact wasn't enough to kill it, the speed in which it hits the surface would send it to the afterlife. “no time to think!”
he releases his index finger from his thumb and the force smacks the spider head on. it’s a blur really, as the spider flies through the air. you gape at it horrified, watching as if in slow motion as it soars in a beautiful arc, and lands directly on the very top of your head.
you wonder if your scream could shatter glass. considering that your house still had its windows, you realise it couldn’t. though, you’re sure if you were tested again that it wouldn’t end as cleanly.
“gojo!” you scream. “i don’t ask for much but can you please get it off me, i’m begging you!”
gojo steps down from the tv stand, relief on his face. “thank god it’s off the floor.”
“gojo!”
“yes, yes.” he makes his way, slowly, painfully, over to you as you crouch frozen on the couch. something in his smile told you he was very pleased at the sight. was that a cramp creeping up your thigh? oh, how you were going to make him pay. “where did it go?” he asks, joyfully, dancing around you.
“don’t even joke.” you hiss at him, and he laughs, reaching over to let the spider walk on his finger. specifically, he lets the spider walk over his finger on his infinity.
he holds it out to you with a proud smile. “there! we’re all safe and sound now.”
you glare at him. “what happened to being deathly scared of the spider?”
he shrugs.
you reach over and flick the spider onto his face.
a/n: brainrot save me, save me brainrot
#gojo x reader#gojo x you#gojo drabble#gojo crack#jjk#jujutsu kaisen#gojo satoru#jjk gojo#gojo fluff#gojo imagine#not proofread i wrote this all in one sprint yup
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Your two different versions of Minho made me feel a certain kinda way. God lately this guy has been conjuring up all my thoughts and now, after having read that fic of yours I can't stop thinking about him even more 😭
I hope you write an entire fic on that topic someday. Imagine him losing his shit and going from mommy to minho and just being deliciously mean when oc cries out the wrong name. 😭
WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA this awakened something in me my dear anon and OH MY GOD THIS IS THE HOTTEST THING EVER AND YEAH I INITIALLY WROTE LIKE A PARAGRAPH AND THEN WAS LIKE YEAH THIS NEEDS ITS OWN DRABBLE SO I HOPE YOU ENJOY THIS MY DEAREST ANON :3 also @yongbun bc I think she'd like :3
୨୧ MAKE YOU FEEL MY LOVE
𝝑𝝔 cw : soft!Dom Minho (referred to as mommy), mean!Dom Minho (referred to as Minho), spanking, clit play, porn no plot, one face slap, pussy slapping, degrading, uhhh guys I think that's it??
"Say ah, jagi," the devilish tone of Minho's voice paired with his almost piercing gaze is pointed at you has you dripping, waiting for you to open your mouth, a command that you're quick to obey. You're on your knees in front of him, he's sitting on your couch, one of his hands running through your hair, the other's fingers finding homage in your awaiting mouth.
"Mommy," you groan against his fingers, "mommy pl-please t-touch me?"
"Aw, sweet girl," Minho coos, "you want mommy to touch your drippy kitty parts?"
You're nodding your head so fast you're sure it's going to fall off. "C'mere," he hums, patting the space next to him on the couch, removing his fingers from your mouth and watching as you crawl onto the couch next to him.
"Lay your head on my lap, jagi," he instructs with the softest voice, "c'mon, baby, mommy doesn't bite."
You lay your head on his lap, head so full of Minho, everything about him. Your head is facing up at him, Minho staring down at you with a loving gaze.
His soft skin, his scent, his aura. Minho's hands are slipping past the waistband of your pants and you're slipping into that soft familiar headspace.
Minho's hands are delicate, touching you ever so gently, rubbing your clit with his calloused fingers. It is too much, body writhing around on the couch, trying to grasp everything he'll give you. "Minho!" you're screaming, hands gripping his own, your nails clawing into his soft milky skin.
"You want Minho?" he evilly grins, his hand coming down to slap your cunt.
The sting of the impact setting your nerves ablaze, your whole body curling around his hand, toes curling, eyes squeezing shut. "Open your fucking eyes," he hisses, his spare hand gripping your chin.
When you don't open your eyes he is quick to slap you across the face, not enough to actually hurt you - he wouldn't dare - but just hard enough to remind you of your place. Your eyes are snapping open, staring up at him, your pupils lust blown and fucked out and he hasn't even put his cock in you yet.
"Mommy!" you squeal, fat tears running down your cheeks.
"Ah ah ah, mommy can't help you now, dumb girl," he coos, slapping your cunt yet again, "you wanted Minho, you get Minho."
"Mommy!" you can't help but cry as Minho man handles you.
He has you face down ass up on the couch, you can hear his sweatpants being pulled down before you feel his fat tip pressing into you.
You scream into the pillows as he gives you no time to adjust to his cock, his movements swift and deep in your cunt. "Minho!" you're chanting his name like it's the only one you know and you're positively crying, salty tears running onto the cushions of the couch.
"There you go, jagi," he's groaning, his cock hitting that spot inside you that has you seeing stars, "just take it like the fucking whore that you were made to be."
#bun.writes#bunwritesskz#skz#skz imagines#stray kids scenarios#stray kids x you#bun.recss#stray kids#bun's dearest: anon!#bun's ask box : mimo#lee know scenarios#lee minho x reader#lee minho smut#lee know smut#lee know imagines#lee know headcanons#lee know#lee know stray kids#lee know x reader#lee minho
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My Favorite Expressions in Love Sea Ep. 7
On a personal level this week has been a very mixed bag but I know that if nothing else got me, this show got me. It's gonna come in clutch for me every time, spider bites and potential hauntings be damned.
I. Love. It. Here.
Will I ever not take psychic damage from the expression Tongrak makes when Mahasamut tells him that he cares about him? The answer is no. It's wonderful and devastating every time.
"How would you rate me out of 10?" Mahasamut asks while Tongrak's face plots teasing and mischief.
Opening a safe shouldn't look so much like staring down the gallows but here we are. Not being able to see how Tongrak's hands were shaking in a screenshot is a blessing.
The panic and terror on this man's face when he saw the read receipt on his phone is something I never want to see again. My hatred for Rak's piece of shit sperm donor is murderous and profound. How actually fucking dare he put this look on his child's face I'm going to kill him with my bare hands.
Peat's acting is so genuinely good that it hurts me. Tongrak was trembling so much that he was struggling to put the phone away and when he gets back to his room, he practically tries to crawl into Mahasamut's skin to hide and feel safe. Look at him, he looks so tiny and scared and I want to cry.
Let us take a break from the sad with this supremely horny shot of Mook unzipping Vivi's dress. Everyone say thank you.
And pour one out for our girl, as is now a weekly custom. Vivi my girly is dying CONFESS TO HER AND MAKE OUT ABOUT IT.
"I'm not going to the event! >:(" Yes you are, mi alma, look at your face when Mook threatens to quit.
Not pictured: One (1) resigned sigh
The grumpiest kitten in the whole venue.
Tongrak: *complaining* Mahasamut: *heart eyes*
My favorite moment of the face journey Tongrak goes on when he realizes just how good Mahasamut looks and that he will be Perceived and decides to mess up his hair about it. The grumpy kitten is a jealous jellyfish.
It's the fact that Tongrak looks surprised that his fans like his books and have consumed his entire body of work. I'M GOING TO SOB.
The smile is polite and professional but the eyes are sparkly. He genuinely enjoys interacting with his fans.
The proud husband smile means everything to me.
THE LOOK OF ABSOLUTE LOATHING AND DISGUST! INCREDIBLE PHENOMENAL OUTSTANDING.
IF YA'LL THINK I'M NOT GONNA MAKE A SEPARATE POST ABOUT HOW MUCH I LOVE THIS MAN YOU'RE SO FUCKING WRONG
If I have to have this demonic nasty hell witch on my screen, at least I get to watch her face make this expression after Tongrak calls her out for imitating him because he got it right on the money and she knows it.
Tongrak and the visceral hatred in his eyes said play me another waltz I'm tired of dancing to this one.
God love you, but you look so tired.
This entire scene was more brutal to watch than the fight outside of Tongrak's house. It was obvious that something more was going on from how calmly he was speaking and how non-responsive he became toward the end of it, but look at his hands. Look at how tightly they're clenched. Maintaining his composure while Prin stuck that knife in his wounds and twisted it as viciously as she could cost him, and it would be obvious even if we hadn't already seen them fight.
Tongrak, you're my fighter. He still looks tired because he is, but he also looks like the imperious ice prince he's had to be to survive. Then the utterly dismissive way he turns and walks out and cuts eye contact?
We can barely see Nouel's smile but it's so clearly saying "bruh that's cringe".
He's not just my fighter. He's Mahasamut's fighter, too.
Do ya'll remember how Tongrak was acting when he first brought Mahasamut to live with him and Vivi was teasing him?
Look how far they've come.
I can't quite articulate how, but the way they look at each other has changed, and I don't just mean because they're being lovey in front of Vivi and Mook. There's this undercurrent of sweetness that wasn't there before, even in private. That scene way back in episode 3 where Tongrak told Mahasamut to ask him to stay on the island which had so much softness and fondness to it did not have that same something that's now present.
I'm gonna leave ya'll with that and then go take more screenshots so I can properly scream about Mahasamut. And let me know if you wanna be tagged in these weekly writeups!
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-Sadie Adler as your gf hcs ( sfw/nsfw )
Sadie Adler x Fem!reader
A/N- I am in fact posting these out of pure and utter spite because Sadie Adler can. And will. Kiss girls. Because this is what?! Fan fiction!And it brings me an insane amount of joy that the sheer idea alone of Sadie being queer angers people. Sadie Adler kisses girls pass it on!!!
These are mostlyyy epilogue and beyond based Sadie pls lemme be your lil housewife
Dedicated to @queer-sadie-adler for being the true voice of reason lately amidst the hell hole that has been the queer Sadie discussions. You’re awesome.
Masterlist - requests are open!
• she’s incredibly protective of you. One wrong look your way and she’s ready to start shooting or swinging. Shes so a ‘ why don’t ya take a picture, it’ll last longer ‘ baby has some slight anger issues
• falls very much into the ‘ I hate everyone except you ‘ category. So stoney faced and ready to brawl with everyone, but soft gazes and tender touches with you.
• you hear her before you see her. She’ll ride back home to you after going after a bounty and proudly announce her return with a ‘ honey I’m home! ‘ as she rides up to your home.
• secretly adores the way you fuss over her before she goes out. She lost everything other than you in the space of like. A year. so it’s nice to be reminded how much you care about her. And that she has someone in the world to care about herself.
• she’s actually a pretty decent cook. And you can often expect her to try cook you something nice. Especially if she’s gotten onto your bad side some how, she knows a nice romantic meal will butter you up nice and quick
• I have this thought that she is just a nightmare to share a bed with. Girly tosses and turns and takes up too much damn space. But it just gives you the excuse to crawl up close to her and get comfy in the little space she leaves, falling asleep practically on top of her.
• and on the subject of sleeping. Has just the finest motherfuckin morning voice you’ve ever heard. Her raspy ‘ Mornin my darlin’ in your ear everyday makes you wanna melt into a puddle every damn time.
• loves sharing a bath with you. Especially if she’s been gone for a few days. She’ll make some excuse that it’s just to save on water. But in reality she just wants to relax and hold you close to her, feel your skin on hers to remind her she’s not just some angry bounty hunter. All tough and rough and fighting. She needs the gentle and the calm you provide her.
• hand holding. Forehead kisses. Sitting in her lap as you read on the porch. Just small, gentle acts of intimacy. The kind not discussed but well practiced between lovers.
• she can get in her head a little sometimes. She knows it’s not easy being in a relationship like that in 1907. And she knows that she doesn’t make it much easier on you with the works she does either.
• but she loves you wholeheartedly. And she knows that you love her just as equally. And as much as she feels she doesn’t deserve you, she’ll keep loving you until you don’t want her anymore which would never happen of course
•NSFW•
• she needs to be the one in control all of the time. This isn’t to say she doesn’t like receiving, or like having you on top of her. She just likes to be the one with her hands on the reins yk.
• in fact. She quite enjoys you on top of her or In her lap. But even so, know that she’s the one pulling the strings and she’s two steps ahead of you at all times
• she’s gentle and soft with you, but determined. Whether that’s knowing exactly where to touch you and abusing that same spot over and over again until you’re a shaking mess. Or telling you where and how to touch her.
• I said this in my last hcs but fingers in the mouthhhhh. Idc what anyone says. I see it so vividly. She loves it. Loves watching you suck her fingers to get them wet. Or clean them off.
• eats pussy like a god. Will have you seeing stars and thanking whatever Lord may exist for putting that woman right between your thighs. Sloppy and thorough and has you coming with her name on your tongue.
• thigh riding!!!!
• girly loves to manspread. Will sit there and pat her leg for you to perch on, but manoeuvre you to straddle her leg instead. And she loves how it makes you blush ‘ you’re a regular ol’ cowgirl now ain’t ya honey? ‘ as she leans back in her seat to watch you I’m literally going insane
• morning sex!! Waking up spooning with her, teasing her by wiggling your hips against her until she slips a hand over your hips and between your legs
• ‘ this what y’ wanted? Been dreamin of me honey? ‘
• will absolutely get up afterwards as casual as ever and ask what’s for breakfast. As if she hadn’t just had her fingers buried in your cunt.
• her aftercare is just so gentle. Especially if she’s been gone a while and has you coming for hours on end. She’ll praise you and hold you and help clean you up. Maybe drag you into the tub with her and sit behind you to wash your hair.
• and she enjoys the intimacy of dressing you so much more than undressing. Getting you comfy and cosy in clean night clothes before snuggling up with you in bed, letting you rest your head on her chest and tangling up your legs together.
#Sadie Adler kisses girls pass it on!!#I’m also writing a drabble/os on that thigh riding thing as we speak#gnawing at the bars of my enclosure for this woman#Sadie Adler#sadie adler x reader#red dead redemption 2#rdr2#rdr2 community#rdr2 fanfic#Sadie Adler smut#x you#fluff#arthur morgan#john marston#van der linde gang#rdr2 Sadie
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The Lunar Effect
Steven finds out their System is actually an Omega and not a Beta like he thought this whole time. Marc is very sorry. And Jake is here for a good time and not a long time.
And you're along for the ride and happy to help your beloved Omegas.
AO3
tags: alpha/beta/omega | omegaverse | omegaverse - heat | Marc being self-deprecating | prostate massage | handjob | penetration (p in a) | omega!Moon Knight System | Alpha!Reader | gender-neutral Reader | Reader has a knot/penis | knotting
ships: Moon Knight System/Reader
word count: 6.3k
Part of Fran's Mini Kinktober 2024
AN: once again a big thanks to my beta reader @my-secret-shame for being a huge help and an amazing hype person 💙
tagging: @twwcs
Lunar Effect: a purported correlation between specific stages of the roughly 29.5-day lunar cycle and behavior and physiological changes in living beings on Earth, including humans.
Steven feels odd. Despite the cold London weather he can't bear to wear more than a light t-shirt and some loose pants. No matter what he does his temperature seems to climb and his mind feels foggy. He’s sure he is running a fever.
He sends you a quick text, making sure you don't worry about him before calling in sick at work. Steven wasn't about to possibly spread whatever bug he caught. Instead he moves through his flat sluggishly, preparing something light to eat, careful not to upset his stomach. He thinks about taking a hot bath, to relax his aching muscles but just imagining stepping into a pool of steaming hot water while he already feels overheated has his mind spinning. He wishes you were here but he doesn't want you to get sick too.
After a light breakfast Steven still doesn’t feel better and decides to go back to bed and rest some more. As he steps back into his bedroom he strips out of his clothes, the material starting to feel strangely itchy on his skin. Leaving his underwear on for some form of decency Steven crawls back into bed. The cool fabric of the bed sheets feel heavenly against his skin as he sinks into the plush mattress and it doesn’t take long for sleep to claim him once again.
His dreams come in flashes. Bodies pressed together. Heated skin caressed and teased. Plump, reddened lips kissed and bitten. An aching feeling of emptiness. The sound of low moans.
His head is spinning, he feels too hot and his skin is slick with sweat as he wakes up from his less than ideal slumber. Steven doesn’t know how long he was asleep for but he feels even worse now than he did this morning. With a groan he pushes the blanket off of himself. His covers are drenched, the wet fabric clinging to his skin. His brain feels fuzzy like it’s wrapped in cotton. Sluggishly he sits up and throws his legs over the edge of the bed. Steven scrunches his brows together, his underwear soaked and sticking to his skin uncomfortably. What the hell was wrong with him? It doesn’t feel like sweat or any worse bodily fluid. It feels strangely slick, like nothing he has ever experienced before. Did he have some strange new disease? Was he going to sweat out ooze forever now? Was he going to melt like the Wicked Witch of the West? He can’t think straight, every movement is too much, he feels too hot but strangest of all he feels empty.
“What is happening to me?” he whispers to himself, his voice shaking. To top off his already nerve-wracking state he is starting to panic now. He can feel his heart racing, his breath quickening. He can feel himself dissociate, his body stops to feel real. He wants to get out, to get away, to simply-
Steven? What’s going on, buddy?
Marc. Oh god. Maybe he knows what’s going on.
“I-I don’t know. Everything is too hot and the blanket is too scratchy and why am I wet and-”
Calm down. What are you talking about- oh shit.
Oh shit? Oh shit?! He’s possibly melting because of some strange illness he’s contracted and all Marc has to say about it is ‘Oh shit’?!
“Is that all you have to say about this? We might be dying and you-”
We are not dying, Steven. We are- well- uh…
“We are what? You know something!” He hates when Marc is being cagey. He thought they were through with keeping secrets but of course Marc couldn’t be straightforward, not even when they are dying-
Marc’s sigh pulls him out of his thoughts and what he says buries its way into his brain like a knife.
We’re in heat.
Time seems to freeze. He can’t comprehend what Marc is saying. They’re betas! They never had a Heat their whole life! Marc must be lying, it can’t be true, it doesn’t make any sense.
I am not lying. Why would I lie about that? Alright, just calm down. We can deal with this.
With shaky legs Steven gets up from the bed, his knees nearly giving out under him. His hand trembles as he tentatively slides it down under his underwear between his ass cheeks. He’s soaked, slick slowly trickling out of his hole like a waterfall. Steven can’t stop the surprised moan that escapes him at the sudden, overwhelming pleasure that shoots through him as his fingers skim the rim of his asshole.
Stop that. We need to keep a clear head for as long as we can.
But Steven can't stop himself, his finger slowly breaching the rim and slowly sliding inside. It's like nothing he has ever felt before; his skin is burning and this feels like long awaited summer rain. His breath shudders as his finger plunges in and out. He needs more. He needs…
He needs.
Steven!
His hand flinches away and out of his underwear without his control. A pitiful whine bubbles up in his throat, grieving the loss. The feeling of emptiness feels so much worse now that he had a taste of this. Marc’s voice reaches him though this fog of pleasure and he swallows hard. He just has to focus on Marc’s voice and he’ll be alright. Just focus.
Take a deep breath. You got this, Steven. We got this.
His breathing is shaky, air filling his lungs in short bursts. It takes a few minutes, although it feels longer, until Steven has calmed down somewhat. The ache is still there, this gnawing emptiness but as he focuses on his breathing it gets easier to handle. He’s on edge but Marc’s voice anchors him.
“Alright, so what do we do now? How do we deal with this?” he asks, gesturing towards his nether regions. He’s not dumb. He knows how a Heat works in theory. But it’s a wholly different situation when it affects you directly. He can feel Marc squirm uncomfortably, unhappy with having to have this conversation.
Well, we’re gonna need some supplies. I haven’t really stocked up on toys or anything. And we shouldn’t go out in this state.
Steven paces around, his shaky legs leading him aimlessly through his flat. He could just take care of it himself, right? People ride out their Heat without any toys or Alpha all the time, right? His whole body shudders at just the thought of an Alpha taking care of him. He hears Marc in the back of his mind urging him to focus as his gaze lands on his phone lighting up with a message. Steven picks up his phone and checks his texts. A familiar warmth spreads through his body, not the sudden arousal fueled by his heat but the joy knowing he is loved. The message is from you, sent right after he laid down for his nap, hoping for his swift recovery and asking if there is anything you could do for him, if he needed anything and if you should come over to ‘play nurse’.
He wishes you were here even more now. You’d know what to do, he’s sure. You'd make sure he was comfortable in bed, fresh, cool sheets being the only thing to touch his heated skin. That and your hands of course. Oh stars, your hands would be so gentle, petting his head, caressing his body. You know just where to touch him to make him keen, to make him whine and babble and beg for more. You're the perfect partner. His partner. His Alpha.
The realization hits him like a ton of bricks and Steven freezes, his phone falling from his hands and landing on the ground with a clatter.
You're an Alpha.
He never gave much thought to your secondary gender but now.
All he has to do is call you and you would come to him. You'd take care of him and make this agonizing emptiness go away. Your lips on his, your hands on his clammy skin, your knot in his-
Don't even think about it, Steven.
Marc's voice pulls him out of his day dreams just in time to feel another wave of slick dribbling out of his hole, ruining his underwear even further.
“Why not? It's not like I am inviting a stranger to fuck me silly,” Steven countered. Marc groans in frustration.
That's not the point and you know it.
“What are you afraid of, Marc? They are not going to love us any less just because we are an Omega!” Steven feels almost manic now that the thought of you spending his first Heat with him has formed in his mind. He needs it and not even Marc was going to stop him.
I know they won't but…
Marc hesitates. Steven hit the nail on the head. Their secondary gender was just another thing on the long list of things Marc thought would make you leave them one of these days. Steven can feel the worry, the self-loathing, the anxiety like ice water running through his veins.
“Marc, stop it. They love us. All of us,” he tries to reason, “This won’t change anything.” Marc bristles at his soft tone but Steven can feel him calm down nonetheless. “Now let me give them a call so they can fuck our brains out, yeah?” Counting Marc’s amused snort as a yes, Steven bends down, grabbing his phone from the floor. He hesitates only a short moment before he pulls up your contact, his thumb hovering over the green call button for only a second before pressing it.
You pick up at the second ring, not even giving him time to get nervous about what he was going to ask of you. “Hey baby,” you answer, a mix of excitement and worry in your voice, “How are you doing? Still feeling sick? Do you need something? Should I come over?” Just hearing your voice makes him feel lighter and he can't help but smile. “Feeling better now that I hear you, love.” He can hear you snort at the end of the line and it makes him giddy. “Alright if you're flirting with me you're definitely not dying,” you reply, laughter in your voice, “So what's up?” For a moment Steven completely forgot why he even called you until another wave of Heat hits him, slick dribbling from his hole as he stifles a moan.
“Steven? Are you alright?”
You sound so concerned, probably thinking he was in pain while all he felt was desperately horny. “I’m…oh stars…I need you. It's a lot to explain but-,”
“No need to explain. I am on my way.”
Our Alpha is coming to take care of us. Our Alpha will make sure we're safe. Our Alpha is going to f-
“Just stay put. The spare key is still under the mat, right?”
He can hear rustling, probably you putting your shoes on. You’ll be here soon. Soon.
“Steven?”
He blinks, disoriented, his mind feeling even fuzzier than before. He hums in affirmation before a needy whine escapes his throat. “I’ll be there soon. Just try and relax until I’m there, alright? I love you.” His heart flutters while his hole pulses with need and he is so in love and so aroused that he can only reply with a whimper.
Steven feels faint. He can hear the call disconnect but it sounds distant, like his phone is in another room and not right in his hand. He feels so alone. He just heard his Alpha but where are they? A distressed whimper reverberates from his throat and sweat starts to drip from his forehead.
They’ll be here soon.
Marc isn't as unaffected anymore. His words slur together but still he tries to calm Steven down.
Just lay down and wait for our Alpha. They'll take care of us. We just need to be good and wait.
Steven nods and shuffles back towards the bed. He can be good. He can wait. Their Alpha will be here soon.
As soon as he lays back down he can feel the restlessness rise again. The last piece of clothing covering his heated skin feels suffocating, like a heavy rock tied to his body pulling him down to drown him. With shaking hands he tries to pull down his underwear but it's suddenly so much more difficult to coordinate his hands and hips. He struggles to get his underwear over his knees and take them off completely. Frustrated he gives up and lays back down with a defeated sob. His body is on fire; all he can think of is the need pulsing through his whole body, all he can hear is the pump of his heart pushing desire through his bloodstream like it's molten rock.
Time distorts for Steven as he waits for you, his head filled with cotton, seconds stretching into what feels like eons. He doesn’t know how long it’s been since you talked on the phone when he suddenly feels something touch his forehead. Steven opens his eyes, not even remembering having closed them, and there you are, your hand pressed to his temple. “Oh baby,” you coo and your voice is the sweetest sound he has ever heard, “You’re burning up.” You’re here and you smell heavenly. More slick pools from his hole and he moans weakly at the feeling. Your nostrils flare for just a second and a soft growl escapes your throat. “Steven,” you gasp his name, “I could smell you as soon as I got into the flat. That's what you wanted to tell me on the phone, right?” Your hand pushed the sweat slick strands of hair out of his face. “You're in heat, aren't you?” A desperate keening fills the air as he chases your touch. He’s delirious, eyes glassy and pupils dilated and just the barest hint of your touch feels like water in an oasis. Steven nods hesitantly.
“Don't worry, love. I’ll take care of you,” you tell him in a soothing tone, your hands gently running over his sweat-soaked skin, “We don't need to have sex either if you're uncomfortable with that.” Steven moans weakly, his words slurred as he's pushing his body against your hands, your fingers splayed out over his chest, “Please, need you.” You keep running your hands over his heated skin in soothing motions. “You have me, baby. I am right here.” Steven shakes his head violently. “Inside,” he clarifies.
You're stunned for a second, uncertain if Steven was already too far gone and this was the Heat talking or if he really wanted you to fuck him through his Heat. It's not like it would be the first time you had sex but Heat was different. And yes, you had been together for quite some time but that didn't mean you were the one he would choose for his time of the month.
Which reminds you that you really had to talk about why he never told you he was an Omega. It would not have been a deal breaker of course! This was Steven! And Marc! And Jake! You don't care about their secondary gender because they are them and you love them. But it would have been a nice heads up; you could have prepared better, helped faster if you had known.
“Alpha, please.”
His agonized whine pulls you from your anxious spiral and you blink at Steven. “Say that again,” you mumble.
“Alpha…,” he gasps, his hands slowly reaching for yours, “Please fuck me.”
You take a breath you didn't even realize you were holding, the tantalizing aroma of his arousal cloying the back of your throat and making your head spin. He grabs your wrists, frantically trying to maneuver your hands to where he needs them: everywhere. Desperate pleads spill from his mouth as he lets you explore his body anew. His skin is hot under your fingers, almost feverish. “What do you want, baby? My fingers? My knot?” you ask softly as your hands wander up towards his chest, giving his pecs a gentle squeeze. The responding gasp makes your lips curl into a smirk. Steven has always been more sensitive than the others but the Heat would have dialed that up tenfold. “I need to hear you say it, love, or I won’t touch you,” you explain as you carefully remove your hands so that they are hovering just over his chest, teasingly.
He whines again in frustration, “Please. Anything!” You pinch his left nipple and he yelps, his body almost lifting off of the bed. “That’s not an answer to my question, Omega,” you purr, a wicked smile gracing your lips, “Do you need my fingers in your pretty little hole or do you want my knot?”
He stares up at you, mouth agape, when his body shifts slightly. His eyes go vacant for a moment until a string of Spanish curses fall from his lips, his hips bucking into the air, eager for any type of friction. You bite your lips, trying to stifle your laughter. “Hello there Jake. Are you aware of what you just switched into?” you ask in a teasing tone, still trying to suppress your grin. He groans in response, “Alpha, if you don't fuck us right this second I will-”, his sentence is cut short by your fingers exploring his backside.
“You’ll what? Fuck yourself on your own fingers begging for my knot because you know they won't be big enough to satisfy you?” A desperate sob falls from his lips and you don't know which one of them is at the front when he clenches around the finger pushing slowly into his slick hole. There is barely any resistance as you add another finger, curling them a little bit in search of his prostate. “Mierda,” Jake shouts as your fingers find the spot you were looking for, lightning shooting up his spine.
“There we go,” you purr, continuously rubbing that spot inside of him that has him cursing and begging and has his limbs flailing. His cock is an angry red, standing at attention and begging to be touched. And yet you seem eager to ignore it, your sole focus on massaging his prostate. “Think you can come like this, baby? Come on your Alpha’s fingers?” Between the litany of moans he barely gets out a yes, his head thrown back against the pillow. His whole body is shaking more and more with every curl of your fingers, every slide against his prostate. You watch him writhe under your ministrations, pre-cum dribbling down his length. His body is wound tight as he approaches his peak steadily. As you sense that he is right on the edge you use your other hand to hold his balls, gently rolling them between your fingers. You can feel them tighten in your grasp as he bucks up, cum spurting from his cock like a fountain, his walls squeezing your fingers rhythmically. You let him grind against your hands, riding out his first orgasm of his Heat.
“Good boy. My beautiful Omega. That should take the edge off for at least a bit, hm?” you coo as you gently slip your fingers out of his hole, coated in his slick. “Damn, you're practically leaking, baby.” A drawn out groan is the only response you get. You clean off your hands on the already stained sheets, shaking your head in amusement. You feel honored to help your boyfriends through their Heat but you weren't going to just not tease them.
“My legs feel like jello,” he mumbles and the accent trips you up. You look over to your boyfriend, his chest heaving with every breath. “You ok, Marc?” He simply nods and tries to sit up, his face scrunched up in disgust. “The sheets are wet,” he grumbles, irritated. You snort a laugh and shake your head in amusement. “That's what happens when you keep leaking slick like a pornstar,” you reply with a grin. He looks at you, eyes still hazy but he seems more coherent than Steven and Jake were before. “Sorry about that,” he murmurs, avoiding eye contact.
“Sorry about what?” You have no idea what he could be apologizing for. He still looks away from you when you sit down on the edge of the bed next to him. You give him time to ruminate in his thoughts before he finally answers. “I’m sure you had better plans than taking care of an Omega in Heat.”
A long sigh escapes you before you place a hand on his knee, trying to gain his attention. It somehow works, his eyes focused on the way your fingers draw lazy circles over his skin. "Whether or not I had plans doesn't really matter. I will always be there when you need me, Marc.” His muscles tense under your touch and he averts his gaze once again. “We can talk about why you didn't tell me you're an Omega to begin with. Not because I need an explanation but because I think we should talk about why you thought hiding it was the best choice here,” you keep your voice soft and lean down to place a featherlight kiss to his thigh, right over where your hand is still stroking him soothingly, “But for now: just let me take care of you. Will you let me?”
Marc gasps as your lips press against his skin, heat rising to his cheeks. He nods quickly, unable to fight you even on a good day, but especially while in Heat. With a little smirk you place more kisses along his thigh, stomach and chest until you are face to face. “Thank you, my beautiful Omega,” you croon with your hand now on his jaw, turning his head towards you. His pupils are blown as your eyes meet, a soft whine falling from his lips. “Fuck, you can't just say shit like this,” he curses, sounding out of breath like he just ran a marathon. The grin on your face spreads wider and you place a final kiss to his mouth. Marc eagerly chases your lips with his, the soft kiss turning into something needy and messy. You only break the kiss when you get light-headed, your body desperate for oxygen.
Breathing deeply you look down towards your boyfriend whose eyes have returned to their heat-induced glassy state. Usually the time between Heat waves would be longer, at least according to your biology courses back in school. Something else to discuss with Marc later. But for now your first priority was to keep your boyfriend satisfied.
“My poor Omega,” you coo as you take a peek down his body, his cock standing back at attention, begging for release, “Let me help you with that.” You reach down, your hand grasping his weeping cock while your lips pepper his throat and chest with more teasing kisses. In languid strokes you move your hand up and down his shaft. His cock is twitching violently under your ministrations, an easy tell that this won't be a very long handjob. Sweet words whispered into the crook of his neck have him cursing and begging.
“Alpha, please, ‘m so close-”
“So good for me, my perfect Omega. Just let go. Come for me.”
As if on command Marc groans loudly, his hips bucking into your hand as he achieves his climax, another stream of cum spurting from his cock. You stroke him through the aftershocks until the stimulation gets too much for him. The dirty sheets get once again misused as a towel and you clean his semen from your hand.
Marc's head lulls to the side as he watches you, bleary-eyed. “Why the fuck are you still dressed?” he mumbles half into the pillow. You freeze for a moment before you burst into laughter. With all of this going on, getting naked hadn’t occurred to you at all, your sole priority being the well-being of your Omega. But now that Marc had mentioned it, you being overdressed for the occasion was not the only thing you noticed. You could feel the tightness of your underwear, the way your body was ready to give your Omega exactly what he needed, what biology dictated he was supposed to need. But alas neither Jake nor Marc had declared any preference for getting knotted by you. So you would use everything else at your disposal to make their Heat run smoothly.
“Does it bother you?” you ask genuinely. Marc blinks at you for a moment, his thoughts slower post-orgasm. “Not bother but- I need- I want-...,” he rambles, his brows furrowing as he gets more frustrated with himself.
“It's alright, baby. You don't have to explain.” You get up, quickly and methodically removing your clothes and putting them to the side. As you turn back towards him you notice his eyes trailing down your body hungrily, resting right between your legs at the sign of your own arousal. It's nothing he hadn't seen before but for some reason this seems different. Maybe it's the realization sinking in that this is the first time you are together like this not just as romantic partners but as Alpha and Omega. In any case you feel a little bashful as his eyes roam your body like you're some Greek statue come to life - in awe and slightly horny.
“Better?”
He licks his lips and nods shortly. You smile, reassured, and sit back down next to him. You reach over to pet his head, your fingers burying into his sweat-soaked curls when you notice how he is very pointedly staring at your crotch. He doesn't seem disappointed. “Like what you see?” you ask with a cheeky grin. Another nod but still no words. “Talk to me, baby.”
He blinks quickly, his jaw going slack and eyes wide. His eyes refocus on the sight of your arousal and he nearly starts drooling. You feel him shift under you as another wave of the scent of his slick permeates the air. “Alpha,” he whines, the switch in accent distinct, “Need your knot, please.”
“You want me to knot you, Steven? You sure?” You don't mean to sound like a tease, your question being genuine, but with Steven like this you can't help yourself. The way he whines and begs for you is too sweet not to savor. He rubs his head against your hand, like a cat eager to be petted, and nods. “Need it so bad. Need your knot inside,” he begs, pressing his body against yours as much as is possible for him, “Fill me up, please.”
“Since you’re asking so nicely,” you coo. You cup his face in your hands, gently rubbing your thumb against his cheeks as he looks up at you with hope in his eyes. “Think you can get on your hands and knees?” He swallows hard, his face set in determination. You watch him wiggle on the mattress for a moment, trying and failing hard to move but his body is too weak from the strain the Heat is putting on him (and probably the two orgasms you’ve teased out of it). Steven sinks back down into the sheets with an annoyed huff before he shakes his head in disappointment. “Don’t worry,” you murmur, “This way I can watch your face while I fuck you. And kiss you while my knot is deep inside of you, filling you up to the brim with my cum.”
You slowly crawl on top of him, spreading his legs so you can fit between them comfortably. “And you’ll be my good little Omega and take everything I give you, won’t you?” Steven keens as your fingers once again find his entrance, pushing into the slick hole and finding no resistance. “Yes. Everything. Everything.” He’s babbling, mindlessly grinding his hips against your fingers. You know it’s not enough for him, not anymore. He needs something much bigger than your fingers and you’re more than happy to oblige, arousal curling hot inside your belly, your cock throbbing between your legs.
You remove your fingers, wiping them on his belly, and grasp the base of your cock, guiding it towards his hole. Steven is squirming under you, too aroused and feverish to think clearly, his body moving on autopilot. As you slowly enter him he raises his hips to meet your movements. With every inch of you pushing inside, his moans get louder, his babbling becoming more incoherent. Even though his sentences turn more and more into broken words and whimpers you know exactly what he wants, your body moving on instinct, eager to make your Omega see stars. With a few more thrusts you bury yourself to the hilt inside him.
You stay like this for a moment, holding onto Steven’s hips to keep steady. He squirms under you, eager for you to move, to finally thrust into him and make him see stars. “Needy Omega,” you tut with a grin before you give him a sudden, hard thrust that leaves him choking on air. You slowly develop a rhythm that works for the both of you. With the slow roll of your hips you pump into him deeply, the tip of your cock rubbing deliciously against his prostate with every thrust. The feeling of his wet heat surrounding your cock is divine and you are quick to realize that you have not been left unaffected by their Heat. A possessive growl reverberates from your throat as you watch Steven lose himself under you, a gasping, sweaty mess.
“My Omega,” you groan as you lift his hips for a better angle, “My sweet, perfect Omega; taking me so well.” You lean forward, placing open mouthed kisses to his nipples, chest and neck, your thrusts slowing down, but reaching much deeper than before. He’s panting, choking on his moans as your lips and tongue explore his skin. “So good for me, “ you whisper into his ear before you nibble on his earlobe, “Like you were made to take my cock.” He nods eagerly, his moans only getting louder when you drag your teeth over his throat. You nibble at the soft skin before sucking on it harshly. The noises spilling from Steven’s mouth will have the neighbors clutch their pearls, you’re sure, but you have never heard a more arousing sound. Once you’re satisfied with the lovebite on his throat you soothe the bruise with your tongue. “My Omega,” you purr possessively. Steven shudders against you, his body burning for you. “Yours. Yours,” he agrees weakly, his voice hoarse from his wanton cries.
You reposition yourself, your cock aching for release, and snap your hips forward, picking up a faster rhythm. His body jolts with the movement as you fuck him into the mattress. “Close,” he pants over the slap of skin against skin, “So close.” You grunt in agreement, throwing one of his legs over your shoulder and lifting his hips even higher. With deep, hard strokes you pump into him, his walls clenching around you. Your cock pulses inside his velvety heat, sweat dripping from your brow as you plow into him with no abandon. Pleasure shoots down your spine like lightning and you can barely groan out a warning as you reach your climax. Your knot expands, filling Steven while you pump your cum into him. The sheer width of it, the feeling of being filled so completely, to be connected to you in this way, pushes him over the edge, his own cock pulsing violently, cum spurting over his stomach.
Before your knees have time to give up under you, you gently roll down next to Steven, taking him with you. It takes a moment until the two of you can find a comfortable position, while you are connected like this but you end up resting on the side, your legs a tangled mess and your arms wrapped around each other. You’re sweaty, exhausted and completely blissed out. Your foreheads touch, your breath mingling with his as you bask in the afterglow of your climax and the soft, buzzing pleasure of your knot tying your boyfriend to you, at least for a short while. Steven nuzzles into the crook of your neck, breathing in your soothing scent. “That was amazing,” he breathes out, disbelieving almost, “Never thought it would feel like this.” You huff out a soft laugh, “Glad I could make your first Heat good then.” Steven leans back and looks at you deadpan. “Good? Good? I’m pretty sure I won’t be able to walk anymore, love. That’s more than just good,” he huffs, almost offended by you selling yourself short like this. You grin and shake your head. “‘Great’ then?” Steven nods his head with a pleased smirk and leans his head back against your collarbone.
You stay like this for as long as it takes for your knot to go down again. As you pull out, a gush of cum leaking out of his hole, Steven makes a grimace, the feeling surely unpleasant for him. You mumble a quick apology and try to sit up but Steven pulls you back into his embrace. “Didn’t say you could just get up, did I?” he quips, a cheeky grin on his face. Well, if he can already sass you again, their Heat couldn’t be that bad anymore. Your brows furrow as you think about their Heat, your mind a bit clearer now too after your own climax.
“Steven, did you know you guys are an Omega?”
With an annoyed look in his eyes he responds: “I sure as shit didn’t. Because somebody had to have secrets again!”
“Yeah I had planned on asking Marc about that. Just wanted to know if it was a collective decision not to tell me about your secondary gender or if- well- you know,” you wave in the direction of Steven’s head, indicating their DID, “Secrets and all that.” Steven nods in understanding. His gaze grows distant for a moment and you figure that he was probably yelling at Marc in their headspace.
You’re sure Marc had his reasons for the secrecy but it still felt like an odd decision. Wouldn’t Jake and Steven have noticed going into Heat before or would that memory just have been locked behind their DID-version of a paywall?
Your musings are interrupted by an annoyed groan. Steven looks clearly miffed as he rolls his eyes and looks back to you. “You know what? I think you should have that talk with Marc now.” You blink at him, taken aback by the sudden proposition but before you can reply his body shifts next to you, muscles tensing up, his brows furrowing and jaw growing tight.
With an exasperated huff Marc rubs his face in annoyance. “Alright, alright, I got it, Steven. Stop lecturing. I know,” he grumbles. He takes a deep breath before he looks at you with a sheepish smile. “Hey baby,” he mumbles, already looking plenty chastised without you having said anything. Steven’s work, no doubt. “Hey Marc, you feeling ok?”
He nods briefly. “Yeah, thanks to you. I’m sorry, again, for all of this.” His shoulders sink and you know that he is blaming himself for what happened.
“I don’t want an apology, Marc. I want to understand.”
He sighs and nods again. “Alright, yeah. I can explain.”
You listen to him intently. He tells you all about his time in the army, his time as a mercenary, and the inherent danger of simply having your Heat in that line of work. When you can’t just take time off for your Heat because you work in Alpha-dominated fields like that, there is not much one can do other than take Heat suppressants. And when he became Khonshu’s Fist Of Vengeance it wasn’t much different. He still took the suppressants and when he needed to have a Heat, per the medication’s specifications, he made sure to time it for when Steven wouldn’t be busy with work or other things. But with Steven and Jake becoming a more present part of his life he simply forgot to inform them until it was too late. Until now.
“I should have told them right away but I kept thinking that there would be a better time for it and then,” he stops himself with a huff and motions towards his body, “Then this happened. And I’m sorry. I really am.” You have the feeling there is more to this but decide that subject can wait for another time, a time after their Heat.
You reach over and squeeze his shoulder. “I know, baby. And I am sure Steven and Jake know that too,” you respond softly before your lips curl into a smirk, “You will have to survive their teasing for a while. That seems fair though, doesn’t it?”
He rolls his eyes, but you can see him fighting a grin of his own. “I suppose I will have to,” he replies, leaning his head against your collarbone, just like Steven had done earlier, “Now that I have a big, strong Alpha to protect me from Jake’s jokes and Steven’s sass.” You snort, unable to control your laughter. “Your big, strong Alpha needs a fucking nap now,” you counter with a grin, “I’ll need my strength. Your Heat isn’t over yet after all.” Marc shudders at the realization and you’re sure he’s starting to produce slick again.
“So let’s rest. And after that I’ll fuck you again and again for as long as you need me to, my gorgeous Omega.”
#marc spector/reader#moon knight/reader#steven grant/reader#jake lockley/reader#marc spector x reader#moon knight x reader#steven grant x reader#jake lockley x reader#marc spector#marc spector smut#steven grant#steven grant smut#jake lockley#jake lockley smut#moon knight#moon knight smut#kinktober#kinktober 2024#fran-writes#moon knight fanfic
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hi, i think u did a similar one already but could i get a hc on how succession characters react to their s/o crying? about feeling sad , or stressed , or losing a loved one , idk , just something mildly serious. i wasn't feeling great today and i started crying and my sister told me to stop crying and was like mean af to me and i could use some gentleness and affection :|
aw anon im so sorry :( I know I’m really late with this but I hope you’re doing much better <3 I’m always here for you in my ask box or pms!! your sister is an asshole you can cry whenever you want all of your emotions are valid and I love u u are so worthy
I hope these make you feel happy <3 enjoy x
serious issues (succession main cast)
Kendall
ᝰ when he notices your mood is off, he immediately goes solemn
ᝰ while if it were something smaller, he’d leave it and let you come up and talk to him on your own
ᝰ but he can tell it’s bad
ᝰ and he’s not going to let you stew in this by yourself
ᝰ he will help you
ᝰ whether you want him to or not
ᝰ he gets you a glass of water
ᝰ and forces you to drink
ᝰ then sits you down and makes you tell him what’s wrong
ᝰ when you do
ᝰ rather, when you burst into tears in his arms
ᝰ he can’t help but feel horrible
ᝰ he cradles your face in his hands and kisses away your tears
ᝰ he apologizes over and over
ᝰ he’s rubbing your back the entire time you tell him what’s going on
ᝰ “cry it all out. i’m right here.”
ᝰ he talks you through it
ᝰ he’s cosplaying his therapist
ᝰ if it was a death, he gets the name of where the service will be held and pays for it in secret
ᝰ over the next few weeks, you can just show up in his office and cry on his shoulder
ᝰ and he won’t ask any questions
ᝰ he always lets you
ᝰ the night you tell him, he keeps an arm hooked around you, keeping your head to his chest
ᝰ he plays with your hair and strokes soothing patterns into your skin for the rest of the night
ᝰ as you recover emotionally, he makes sure to check in on you
ᝰ even long after the incident, you both make sure that you have no bullshit check ins with each other
ᝰ “how are you really”s
ᝰ he makes it clear to you that he will always support you
ᝰ and you’re glad
Roman
ᝰ not really the best with words
ᝰ or emotions
ᝰ or being serious
ᝰ however
ᝰ the only time(s) he is 100% serious is when you’re severely upset
ᝰ the first time it happens, it’s like he stops breathing
ᝰ “hey, come here. something’s wrong. i need to know what.”
ᝰ you tell him
ᝰ it’s the hardest you’ve ever cried
ᝰ the entire time, he grips your hand, gently stroking the back of it with his fingers
ᝰ he’s never been more focused on anything in his life
ᝰ he wishes he could help talk you through it, but he’s physically incapable
ᝰ so what he does is murmur a few comforting words then take you out on a boat ride
ᝰ because of course he has a miniature yacht on call
ᝰ “you can relax, take your mind off everything. i’ll take care of things, don’t worry.”
ᝰ the rest of the day is spent the two of you cuddled together, looking out over the water
ᝰ he doesn’t say anything
ᝰ he feels bad because he doesn’t know how to help you sort through your emotions
ᝰ because god knows he can’t
ᝰ so instead, he spends every waking moment with you, at your beck and call
ᝰ regardless, he’d do anything for you
ᝰ incident or not
ᝰ he listens to you when you talk, of course
ᝰ he just can’t give you any sound advice
ᝰ the nights on the boat, when you’re at your most vulnerable, he makes sure you fall asleep before he does
ᝰ so that he can kiss you to sleep
ᝰ and make sure you fall asleep soundly, feeling safe
ᝰ he’ll never be happy unless you’re happy
Shiv
ᝰ she notices something’s wrong, but doesn’t say anything at first
ᝰ when you don’t come to her at all and instead stay holed up in your room, that’s when she knows something is really wrong
ᝰ she crawls up onto the bed with you, and you feel her hands smooth up your back
ᝰ “what’s wrong? tell me.”
ᝰ does not leave you alone until you do
ᝰ listens intently
ᝰ literally memorizes what you’re saying so that she can help fix things
ᝰ the entire time you’re speaking, she massages at your skin to soothe you
ᝰ and it works
ᝰ thumbs away your tears when they fall
ᝰ she refuses to let you go through this alone
ᝰ she helps talk through your issues
ᝰ nonstop reassuring you that everything you’re feeling is perfectly valid
ᝰ and telling you that if you’re upset, she’s upset
ᝰ and that she’ll stop at nothing to make you happy again
ᝰ in all honesty, she’s extremely inexperienced with cooking and baking
ᝰ but she figures it out just for you
ᝰ she makes you a fudge with strawberries and raspberries frozen into it
ᝰ and it’s surprisingly really good
ᝰ your tears ease as the two of you eat together in bed
ᝰ you’re still sniffling when she gently urges you to lay your head in her lap
ᝰ even when you’re this upset, she’s utterly mesmerized by you
ᝰ your lips when you chew, your cheeks, the plush of your thighs as your pajama shorts hike up your legs
ᝰ “i know it’s hard, babe. i’m here. i’m not leaving.”
ᝰ and she doesn’t
ᝰ she’s at your side for the rest of both your lives
ᝰ she holds your hand through all of your difficulties
ᝰ she always listens, always helps you with your issues
ᝰ she’ll never, ever, let you suffer on your own
ᝰ she wishes she could take your pain from you
ᝰ you’re her sun and moon
Tom
ᝰ the personification of a massive teddy bear
ᝰ when you’re upset, he’s in SHAMBLES
ᝰ he swears he can feel your pain
ᝰ he soothes you every way he knows how
ᝰ he keeps you close, rubbing his hands up and down your sides
ᝰ he makes you your favorite meals
ᝰ refuses to let you do any chores
ᝰif it was a death, he organizes these massive baskets to be delivered to everyone affected
ᝰ and the biggest one goes to you
ᝰ it has all of your favorite sweets, a bouquet of beautiful flowers, a blanket
ᝰ and a love letter detailing how you’re the strongest person he knows
ᝰ and that he loves you more than anything
ᝰ of course, he gives you space if you ask for it
ᝰ but he’s always concerned for you anyway
ᝰ he gives you your time to recover while slowly helping you along
ᝰ after a couple weeks of leaving you be and taking care of you at home, he starts making you go out with him
ᝰ “we’re getting you used to things again.”
ᝰ he stays at your side through all of it
ᝰ will always let you vent to him
ᝰ and always does his best to give you advice and help you through your issues
ᝰ every night is spent the two of you chatting about your days
ᝰ making sure the other is really okay
ᝰ his arms are always warm
ᝰ your bed even more so
ᝰ he always makes sure you’re feeling warm and fuzzy
ᝰ he just loves you so much
ᝰ he’ll never let you go cold
Greg
ᝰ when you start freaking out, he also starts freaking out
ᝰ but he gets himself together
ᝰ because you’re a big deal to him
ᝰ and he loves you
ᝰ so he’ll do everything he can to help you
ᝰ in his own way, of course
ᝰ he honestly sucks at talking you through things
ᝰ but he listens to you
ᝰ he loves listening to you
ᝰ after you tell him what’s going on, he pulls you into his arms
ᝰ he just hugs you for a while
ᝰ he doesn’t let go until you do
ᝰ and you only do that to go to the bathroom
ᝰ when you come back, he has a favorite movie of yours pulled up on the tv
ᝰ “why don’t we watch? I think you could use the brain break. relaxing is good for you.”
ᝰ he keeps you pulled tight against him
ᝰ softly stroking your hair, your neck, your shoulder
ᝰ he’s just hoping your mood is shifting
ᝰ which it is
ᝰ he’s not the best with words
ᝰ and he’s not exactly sure if what he’s doing is helping
ᝰ but bottom line, you know he cares
ᝰ and he wants to help, needs to help you
ᝰ he spends the next few days doing his best to make you feel loved
ᝰ he makes you lunch to take with you to work
ᝰ he makes sure your favorite snacks are always stocked in the pantry
ᝰ always asks things along the lines of “do you want coffee? iced tea? I’ll make anything for you” even though he doesn’t know how to cook or bake anything
ᝰ but he figures it out
ᝰ because the only thing that makes him happy is you
ᝰ and he’ll fucking die if he sees you crying again and he can’t help you
ᝰ his world revolves around you
ᝰ and he loves it that way
Stewy
ᝰ honestly, you being so viscerally upset puts him off
ᝰ his world falls off balance
ᝰ demands you tell him everything
ᝰ keeps your face sandwiched between his hands as you talk
ᝰ his eyes never leave yours
ᝰ he nods, makes soothing noises
ᝰ “okay, here’s what we’ll do. we’re going to go have fun tonight.”
ᝰ he takes you out for dinner
ᝰ the entire night he’s just like eyeing you trying to see if you’re still upset
ᝰ in reality, he’s just a smooth talker
ᝰ he has no idea how to actually get serious
ᝰ so now his efforts are put into making you feel better
ᝰ when you pick at your food, he takes your hand
ᝰ and tries to be profound
ᝰ “I know I kind of suck at this whole handling things seriously thing, but I want you to know I’ll listen to anything- everything you have to say. I don’t… you’re not going through this alone, is what I’m trying to tell you.”
ᝰ it comes out really messy
ᝰ but it’s obvious he cares
ᝰ it’s obvious he loves you
ᝰ and that in of itself makes you feel leagues better
ᝰ you decide to walk off your dinner
ᝰ you both take a stroll, hand in hand, through the streets
ᝰ the night chill is strangely calming
ᝰ but you know that’s just stewy, not actually the chill that’s making you feel at ease
ᝰ “we can try stargazing tonight.”
ᝰ “stew, all I can see when I look up is smoke.”
ᝰ because you literally live in new york
ᝰ where rats live everywhere rent free
ᝰ “we’ll just have to drive out somewhere, then.”
ᝰ he actually does
ᝰ the two of you end up in a bit of a rural area sitting in the trunk of his car
ᝰ he spread out blankets and brought pillows and everything
ᝰ he even stopped at a gas station to get you both slushees
ᝰ in the gas station you both mixed flavors
ᝰ and he keeps stealing from you
ᝰ but it’s okay
ᝰ you’re leaning against him, his fingers are in your hair
ᝰ “I’m sorry I couldn’t help more.”
ᝰ “you’re helping me lots.”
ᝰ you give him a kiss
ᝰ “your lips are all blue, stewy.”
ᝰ “the blue raspberry is just really good…”
ᝰ you turn back to the stars
ᝰ but his eyes aren’t even on the stars anymore
ᝰ they’re on you
ᝰ and if he had it his way, they’d never leave you again
#succession headcanons#kendall roy#kendall roy x reader#roman roy#roman roy x reader#siobhan roy#siobhan roy x reader#tom wambsgans#tom wambsgans x reader#gregory hirsch#gregory hirsch x reader#stewy hosseini#stewy hosseini x reader#succession#succession hbo#succession x reader#anon ask#wambsgansshoelaces
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Bridgerton-Men and their kinks
1. Benedict Bridgerton: Edging
Warning: nsfw, minord please dni
We all know the scene in the book where Benedict takes Sophie‘s innocence and then almost comes before her, right?
Well, shortly after their wedding, this really happens. Sophie ist just a few more strokes away from coming as well, but her husband suddenly stills.
„Fuck“, Benedict curses, not even able to look at his wife. This never happened to him, not even with any of these girls that never mattered, how could it happen with the love of his life? Sophie ensures him that it‘s okay, but of course it‘s not.
He makes up for it of course. Before his wife can even finish saying „it‘s okay“, his face is already down between her legs, his fingers drawing knowing circles around her sensitive bud. But Sophie, already being taken back from the edge of relief, is not able to cum as fast as Benedict would‘ve guessed. She‘s sensitive and yet what seems like miles away from her orgasm. After some time the second born bridgerton can feel himsel hardening again, so he thinks it‘s a good idea to let go of Sophie and find his way back inside her again. It is when Sophie lets out an animalistic growl, when he realizes he might‘ve done something wrong. He takes a second to look at his wife and the sight of her makes him literally almist come again. Sophie Bridgerton looks like she just lost all her brain cells and seems to not being even able to form a simple sentence. „Please“, she pleads, „please.“
Benedict gives her his famous crooked smile, as he starts an unapolategic pace. Sophie is now a whining mess and - oh God - Benedict never thought he‘d enjoy the tears running down her cheeks, but knowing it‘s from pleasure is making HIM going feral this time.
„Please what, huh?“, he asks, pounding in her faster and harder he ever did, „you want me to continue, darling? Want me to make you feel as good as you made me feel today?“
„Please“, Sophie cries.
„Or“, he asks, not chancing his pace, „am I hurting you? Does my darling wife want me to please stop?“
Sophie tries to say something, anything, but in that moment her husband reaches that very spot, that makes her loose her mind.
Benedict can feel that his wife is close. He can feel her walls tightening around him, and just when Sophie‘s eyes start Rolling back and her hips arch to meet his movements - he pulls out.
„Ben!“, Sophie cries of desperation, literally starting to cry out of frustation now.
Benedict doesn’t respond. He turns his wife around, so that she‘s on all her fours, then he fastly crawls behind her and pushes back inside before Sophie can process what‘s happening.
Benedict had never ushered any thoughts about the mirror next to the wardrobe they share, but in this position - facing the opposite direction then normally while love making, he can watch himself fuck his wife from behind - how did he never thought of using the mirror before?
Watching his wife loosing sanity while pleasuring her from behind is going to be his new favourite view for sure.
Sophie would‘ve normally enjoyed this view too, of course, but at this point she can barely stay on her arms and knees. Her head is rested on the bed, while every push of Benedict let‘s her moan.
Benedict suddenly grabs her by her neck and forces her to face the mirror.
„Look at you“, he praises, his voice raspy from the second orgasm building inside him.
„Please“, Sophie whispers one last time.
Benedict has started kissing and biting her neck, while his hands keep her steady.
„Look what fauxpax of mine has made of you“, he chuckles, his lips merely away from her skin, „drunk without a single drop of alcohol… senseless and helpless… in need of me to free you from your desperation…“
Sophie watches his hand trail lower and lower. She holds her breath, waiting for him to grant her the release she craves so much.
Then, finally, his finger meets her most sensitive bud - and she‘s gone. Everything turns dark and she screams so loud Benedict is sure the neighbours will have heard it. He
holds her for a few more pushes, just until he cums inside her a second time - with a louder growl than normally, but he honestly doesn’t think Sophie notices.
He carefully turns her around, so that he can fall back to the pillow and take her in an embrace with him. None of them speaks for a while - Sophie needs some time to regain her breath.
„I always thought the more orgasms I squeeze out of you, the better. But maybe it‘s not about quantity, but the quality that matters, huh?“ he chuckles.
From this day on, Benedict occasionally made sure to cum before his wife.
Okay, this was going to be a small Dribble with all men and their kinks explained briefly but then this happened 🤣 Do you want me to make ones with the other brothers and brothers-in-law?
#bridgerton#benophie#benedict bridgerton#anthony bridgerton#kanthony#bridgerton au#polin bridgerton#benedict bridgerton fanfic#benedict bridgerton smut
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edward nashton angsty nsfw? hmm... him stealing your boxers and sniffing your pillow while crying a little. sad wank because he knows he can never have you and he can only have this and this. this still isn't enough. he wants to crawl in your ribcage and protect your heart from the inexorable tide of Gotham and he can't and every second he can't he's filled with anxiety and the anxiety is eating him. he wants to taste your skin, not just your discarded fabric; god you're so precious, how can he defile you like this, even just in his mind? he's not good enough for you (he thinks, to himself) and he wishes he was because you're so fucking beautiful and he wants to cage you to view for himself but he can't! because he doesn't deserve it and he could never keep something like you. because everything he keeps rots. you smell so so good and he can't help it and he's sorry. In this essay,
my ugliness is not my fault, i know god just made me wrong - edward nashton x gn!reader headcanons (NSFW)
{contains: "breaking in" (really just breaking of trust/misuse of keys), male masturbation, obsessive behavior and thoughts, and self-deprecation/angst.}
♡ You were naive, Edward was desperate. It was the perfect mixture to get just what he wanted. Just what he needed.
♡ Just in case, you had told him as you handed him the spare key you'd cut for your apartment. He could cry at your kind, clean innocence. You'd cut a key for him. In case you were at work and he'd realized he left his jacket laying on your couch, or something. He thought of how you'd react if you saw him now, using his key for this. Your furiously furrowed brows, your mouth fixed in a horrified grimace. Maybe that was part of the allure.
♡ Truth was, the very last thing he wanted was to cause that lukewarm current of discomfort to slosh from within you. To be the reason bolts of fear and horror shot through your boiling blood would just be too much. He was a friend to you. A very good friend. He didn't want to mar that pristine canvas.
♡ He'd much rather just be the freak rifling through your underwear drawer while you were out than confess his carnivorous appetite for you. How would that conversation go, he wondered. How could he reach into the deepest parts of his guts, the darkest parts of his brain, and yank out those inky black desires without casting you off for forever? Surely, you'd gaze upon his blood-stained longing and run for the hills.
♡ The thrill of it all had him painfully hard and already dribbling. He unbuttoned his pants and took himself out with a slow pull of his boxers, teeth clenching and a sharp breath drawn in from the feeling of the cool air lacing itself around his cock.
♡ Edward gripped your underwear with one hand and began giving himself gentle, languid tugs with the other. He imagined how it would be if the blood and guts and grime didn't scare you off completely. He imagined your sweet, tender coos of encouragement in his ear. There you go, darling. Keep going for me, angel. You're so beautiful, sweetheart. I love you, Eddie.
♡ White-hot pinpricks were already popping behind his knees as he gripped himself tighter, high hums and whines pouring from his mouth like liquid silk.
♡ Edward knew this could never be truth. You would fear him. You'd take one look at his innermost hunger and be horrified. He couldn't even fully comprehend the extent of his fiery passion.
♡ He wished he could protect you from the filth that injected itself into the heart of Gotham. Such a perfectly crafted gem didn't deserve to be scratched or chipped. You were a blindingly bright bird to him, your wingspan magnificent and your technicolor feathers brilliantly tinted. He knew to cage you was cruel, but he was consumed by crashing waves of fear that you'd be hunted. Shot down. Ripped apart. He wouldn't be able to continue on if something happened.
♡ A tight current of thickened nausea splashed around in the pit of his stomach and he felt the crackling fire of heat burn between his legs. God, he'd do anything to be the cool one. The calm one, the collected one, the one who knew exactly what to say to wrap a spellbinding cloth of charm around you and pull you in close. Instead, here he was, gripping his throbbing cock tight in his hand while laying on your bed, desperately clawing and grasping for any semblance of you. Any silk soft touch. Any juicy taste to dribble down his chin. Any symphony of sound. Anything, anything.
♡ His orgasm rippled through his body sharply, suddenly, a shot of slam-on-the-brakes adrenaline streaking through his body. He watched the soft skin of his stomach flutter up and down with each ragged breath.
♡ Sometimes Edward feels as though a hex had been placed on him since birth. The future looked bleak, the present was weary, and the past was nothing more than a mildew-scented memory. Life had never been kind. But you. A flood of glimmering sunshine. A bright, sparkling rainbow after a dark, storming day. A gasp of crisp, fresh air breathed deep and long. Lovely, compassionate, angelic you. It only made Edward look that much more rotted and moldy by comparison.
♡ With a turn of your lock and a quiet click of shutting your door, he left your apartment with a thick scoop of guilt melting around his thumping heart. He took every day with you one at a time, careful not to reveal this sinister secret or let you in on his insatiable hunger. It would remain inside of him. He would not act upon it again. It would be festering, brewing, bubbling...until the next time you were out and the starvation spoke louder than reason.
#eli's writing#danonation#paul dano#edward nashton#the riddler#the batman#edward nashton x reader#the riddler x reader#edward nashton x you#the riddler x you#edward nashton x y/n#the riddler x y/n
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Who would get snapped by Thanos?
(also on Ao3)
Of all places, he was buying fucking cigarettes when it happened.
Jason was digging through his wallet when the woman behind him suddenly screamed. He whirled around and—
Hang on, didn't she have a kid with her? He could've sworn there was a toddler whining about candy just now. But when he looked, his eyes were met with a pile of dust and the lady staring at her hand, face pale.
Behind her were a group of teenagers. The shortest one—couldn't have been more than 14—turned to the others and said, "Guys, something's wrong." But before anyone could react, his skin cracked and he crumbled to pieces, leaving his friends scrambling.
The cashier dialed the police. Someone demanded to know what was going on. Without his helmet or guns, it wasn't as though Jason could say he got this all taken care of. Cigarettes forgotten, he slipped away from the crowd and called Bruce.
No answer. So he tried again, and on the third time he left an expletive-filled voicemail before hopping on his bike.
He zipped past the changing signals and swerved around the three-car pileup forming as he tried Dick's number. But all he got was that godawful singsong voicemail that Dick recorded years back.
That was two down already.
No.
No, he wasn't gonna think like that. Those two knuckleheads were fine. Hell, with a family of detectives, they were probably cracking the case as Jason broke a red light.
He picked another number.
It clicked.
"Roy, are you—"
"Jason." Roy's ragged breathing almost made his words unintelligible. "It's Lian. She—she..."
"It's happening everywhere," Jason said. "I don't know who's behind this but I'm gonna keep you updated."
There was nothing on the other line. Not a breath or panicking keen. His heart dropped.
"Roy?"
After several attempts, he had no choice but to hang up.
He didn't even wait for his motorcycle to stop completely, dumping it next to the others.
"Guys?"
The Cave was far, far too quiet. Jason grabbed his domino and a batarang lying on a bench.
"Hello? Anyone?"
He stuck a comm in his ear. It crackled to life.
"Guys, we have a situation. Is anyone reading me right now?"
Silence.
He spotted a familiar wheelchair in front of the glowing Batcomputer and let out a sigh of relief.
"Oracle! I'm glad you're—"
But there was no red hair or keyboard clacks to go with it. A steaming coffee cup was tipped over, soaking a case file and dripping onto the floor.
Alfred had to be okay. He's Alfred.
Jason raced upstairs, almost missing the three piles on the couch with purple, yellow, and orange video game controllers buried among them. In the cat bed is another one. His lunch crawled up his throat, but he swallowed it down and moved to the next room.
"Alfred?" His boots echoed through the halls with each step. "Anyone here?"
He checked the kitchen, but it wasn't Alfred he found. Rather it was Damian, staring at his ash-covered fingertips just like the lady at the store.
"They were right here." Damian's voice trembled. "Me and Cain and Pennyworth, we were talking and... and..."
He stumbled forward. Jason caught him.
"I got you. I got you." He wrapped his arms around the kid.
"Akhi?"
Something about it made Jason's blood run cold.
"I don't feel so good."
"Don't say that. You're fine." He squeezed tighter.
"I—I don't want to go. Not again." Damian's fists—oh God, they're so tiny—clung to Jason's shirt.
But all the pleading in the world amounted to nothing as the atoms of his baby brother slipped through his fingers. And even though it felt like everything was bubbling to the surface, he couldn't scream or cry out. All he could do was kneel there, numb, wondering who would have the audacity.
After who-knows-how-long, he felt Ace nuzzle against his ribs.
"You're still here."
"Arf!"
"You're right." Jason swiped the tears from his face and stood up. "Fetch me my guns. There will be hell to pay."
#jason todd#red hood#damian wayne#robin#roy harper#arsenal#red hood and the outlaws#batfam#batfamily#batbros#batboys#batkids#batsiblings#batman family#dc comics#dc fanfic#marvel#crossover#alternate universe#fanfic#my writing#thanos#mcu#infinity war#tw angst#tw death#tw swearing#ficlet
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This is an exploration of Rolan, Cal, and Lia 's past together and how they met. I have read plenty of headcannons and fics that have already explored this topic (the ones I've read are so creative!) and I wanted to do my own little spin on it!
Cal & Lia & Rolan
Unlovable
An unwanted, despised child wanders Elturel one of the worst storms the city has ever seen, looking for scraps to survive the night.
Word Count: 3.1k (AO3)
Relevant Tags: Child Abuse (Only shown in the beginning), Trauma Responses, Sickfic, Hurt/Comfort, Angst with Happy Ending
A pitiful tiefling child is dragged by his hair, wailing as a woman kicks the front doors of the orphanage open. She tosses the young boy out into the middle of the storm, and he falls into a large, muddy puddle in the streets of Elturel. The rain hits his back harshly as he struggles to get up on his hands and knees.
“Don’t you ever come back to this place.” He hears the woman spit, and he tearfully looks up at her with golden eyes from his place at the bottom of the stairs. “This is no place for you, devil spawn. When you came to us originally, I bit my tongue in the name of our God; I thought we could shape you into something instead of what you are. Now you bite the hand that feeds you. A conniving, thieving, spoiled brat is what you are!”
She reaches for the handles on the doors, hatred in her eyes as she stares him down. “Leave, we will be more at peace without you to burden us.”
He weeps as the doors slam, wanting to plead with her; he didn’t steal anything, he never touched anything he wasn’t supposed to, and he was framed by an older child that resided further down the hall, but his voice has never worked ever since he was left here. The caretakers tried everything to make him speak; prayers, beatings, and starvation were all they resorted to, but none of those worked. It only made him silent. Even with how cruelly he was treated, he crawls up the stairs, trying not to slip on the wet stone, and frantically knocks on the doors.
His cries are left unheard or willfully ignored.
Body shaking violently with his sobs, the cold sinks deep in his bones as the rain mixes with the tears running down his face. He’s resorted to scratching at the wooden doors with his nails, but they’ve been blunted by the worshipers here. Cut down until they bled so they looked more humanoid.
Less devilish.
Please let him stay.
He yells out another cry when a loud clap of thunder hits, covering his sensitive ears from the sound. It hurts so much, the little ice needles called raindrops piercing his skin repeatedly without mercy.
To the happiness of those inside the orphanage and temple, he finally runs away.
No one would give him a second glance, and he never felt so isolated.
Pathetic.
Unwanted.
Abandoned.
His legs shake with every step after he stops running, whether from the cold or the terror that sunk into his bones. He’s directionless, not recognizing the street he's on and unsure how long he ran for. What did he do wrong? Should he have fought the caretakers less? Should he have gotten along with the other children more? Should he have been better behaved?
Is there something wrong with him?
As more lightning strikes, he picks up his pace again. A couple of small houses still have candle lights burning in their interiors, but he’s too fearful to go knocking. Who would want an orphan in their home? A tiefling orphan, no less? And on top of that, one that’s too scared to talk? Would they throw him out again?
He feels his stomach is being clawed at, hunger overcoming his senses. They were already punishing him for insolence by not feeding him, but thinking he stole something from the altar was the final straw in the haystack. He did not think caretakers could look at him so disgustingly.
Waterlogged by the rain, he finds a small house with their candles still lit, trailing over to the trash they left. It’s by the front door, the worst place for him to hide, but if he doesn't eat something soon he might collapse here.
He sneakily opens the wicker basket and looks inside, trying to find scraps. A loose crust of bread, old meat, bad fruit, anything he could find sustenance in. Anything that can tie him over for the night.
But there is nothing. Only broken glass from what looks to be a shattered plate, stray strings of yarn, and old needles that have long rusted.
His eyes start stinging again, knowing that luck will never be on his side. It’s the only trash he sees out here in this street, everywhere else is now too dense to peek through. He doesn’t even hear the door open, he only feels the waft of warmth from the inside-
The door is open.
He trembles again, not just from the cold, but dread. He can’t will himself to run away. Maybe he’ll be shown some mercy if he gets on his knees to beg, wordlessly hoping the punishment wouldn't hurt him too badly.
“Hello?” A feminine voice calls out cautiously, opening the door fully as the light hits his skin.
He quickly looks up at the figure, petrified.
She’s beautiful. The light gives him a better view of her orange skin and darker orange eyes. She’s wearing a white night dress, loose fitting with frills at the end of the sleeves. Her short black hair is a mess as if she got out of bed rapidly.
A Tiefling, most importantly.
He stares at her in a childlike wonder, surprised by the warmth he feels just by seeing her soft, sleepy eyes.
“Oh my goodness, you poor thing. Come in, now.” She states, gently but urgently pulling him inside.
Tugging him along to the interior of the small home, the tiefling woman sits him down in an old chair and puts a heavy blanket over his shoulders. “Sit tight- Cal, Lia, what have I said about staring?”
“It’s very rude…”
“Very good Cal.” She says softly, mirth and honey in her voice.
He didn’t even notice that there were other people around. They sounded young, like some of the other kids in the home. Their voice is sweet, the one that spoke. Innocent.
Quiet steps quickly approaching, she comes back with a towel, kneeling in front of him and carefully wiping his face. He leans into the towel's softness, enjoying the texture and lightly starting to purr. “Gods above, what happened to you sweetheart?” She asks as she takes one of his hands, looking down at his blunted nails in horror.
Opening his mouth, he tries to speak, but nothing comes out. What would he even say? His teeth chatter violently, threatening to crack the incisors that adorn his mouth.
“You’re freezing. Cal, Lia, please find some of the old clothes in the closet. He’s soaked to the bone and we need to get him dry.”
He hears the tinier tieflings run off somewhere, the woman carefully pulling him up and leading him into a bedroom. It’s small but comfortable. The orphanage was cramped and he had to share a bunk bed. He always took the top one, since it would be easier to hide himself when he was higher up. When he was out of sight, he was out of mind.
The other children arrive with a clothing pile, and while he can’t look them in the eye, he sees the amount of clothes they bring as they threaten to fall onto the floor.
That makes the woman giggle, a sweet sound that relaxes him even while he shivers. “Thank you. Now, sweetheart-“ She starts, gently tilting the boy’s chin to face her. “Do you have a name?”
He glances at her, dumbfounded. Yes, he does have a name, but it feels as though his throat is closing.
She gives him a sad smile, moving her hand away. “How about you change into some dry clothes? Come out whenever you’re ready.”
Getting up, she leads the other two children back out the door with hands on their backs.
”Mom, why won’t he talk?” The taller of the little ones question.
“Hush, Lia.” She whispers, closing the door behind her after they leave.
Silently looking around the room, he spots a portrait hanging high on the opposite end of the bed, easy to see even while laying down. It’s the woman, but she looks much younger, and there’s a man next to her. Red of skin with similar black horns, but they were cuffed in some kind of jewelry. Ceremonial, perhaps? They seem so sweet, holding each other’s hands like it was their whole world.
They’re in love. He hasn't seen the man around, though.
He snaps out of his trance, starting to peel off his wet clothes. The shirt snags on his horns, and it rips the side open while trying to yank it off.
Damn it all, the only shirt that he owned is now ruined. How could he fix this? The caretakers never taught him how to sew like the other children. They didn't let him participate at all, usually. It was too delicate, they said; his claws would tear the cloth and he would ruin it, like how he ruins everything else.
He ignores the tears stinging the corners of his eyes, focusing on putting on the new clothes. They’re big on him, clearly meant for an adult, but it’s dry. Kicking off his shoes mostly in frustration, he now looks at the door that leads back out.
Does he leave now? Is he allowed to?
Feet tiptoeing to the door, a shaky hand reaches out for the handle and opens it. He winces when the hinges creak so loudly, and he starts to shake again. Should he hide under the bed? Will they be angry about the noise?
No one seems to come after a few minutes, but he thinks that might be worse. Maybe they’re waiting for him to show his pathetic face.
But he smells something wonderful coming from what he thinks is the kitchen.
And gods, he’s so hungry.
He makes himself walk over to the area, the warmth of the room and the smell of chicken overwhelming his senses. The other children are sitting at the small table, waiting patiently with empty bowls as the woman, their mother, stirs her pot.
Her ear twitches, and she looks over with another soft smile. “Ah, there you are. Please sit, I’ll get you a bowl once this is ready.”
Wordlessly, he trails over to sit down on one of the available chairs, wrapping his own tail around himself. He doesn’t want it to get stepped on like it did in the orphanage.
”So, why were you out in the rain??” The girl asks suddenly, startling him. “It’s cold! And I heard that the storm was getting very dangerous.”
She looks like the man in the portrait, he notices. Red skin, longer black horns. She is staring at him expectantly, but he’s very distracted by the decor of the house. It’s colorful compared to the orphanage, with pots of flowers settled on tables including the one they’re sitting at. There are loose pieces of fabric, with a wayward needle and thread fastened in between so it wouldn’t disappear.
”Hello???” She calls to him.
”Lia.” The woman warns, turning her head and giving the child a stern look.
”But mom-“
”If he doesn’t want to speak, we will not force him. Leave him be.”
Lia pouts, puffing her cheeks slightly but doesn’t speak to him again.
He’s never been defended like that, before.
The fire stops suddenly, and their mother brings out a larger spoon. “Come here Cal, you first.”
Cal excitedly hops out of his chair with his bowl, tail swishing behind him rapidly as he trots over. Lia does the same after him, happily taking their bowls back to the table once they’re filled up. They take no time at all to start eating, even with how hot the soup is.
The woman sets a bigger bowl in front of him, filled with the same thing. “Eat as much as you’d like. There’s plenty.”
He looks at the contents, seeing the steam rise up and disappear in the air. It’s hot against his face, and he sees all the ingredients through the thick broth. Chicken, peppers, onions, and probably some spices too.
He shouldn’t be allowed to eat, he’s done nothing to help in the kitchen.
The other two finish way before he ever could, but he didn’t even touch the food. Thankfully, they don’t comment and run off to go play in another room.
He doesn’t hear their mother approach, so he jolts when he sees her kneeling beside his chair. “Are you alright, sweet pea?”
Fear washes over him fairly quickly, thinking she’s angry. He can’t get his tongue to work, even now. He wants to apologize for being rude, for not eating, for daring to enter this home, for everything.
For existing.
She gently cups his face, a look of concern as she searches for something in his expression. “Honey, you’re not in trouble. Not at all. I want to make sure you’re okay; please, eat.”
No one has ever been this kind before. No one has ever looked at him so lovingly.
Mom.
He starts to weep, ears twitching down and tail falling limp as his vision goes blurry. He can’t see her expression anymore through the tears he’s been keeping in ever since dinner started. That’s when she gathers him up into her arms, holding him as he gets on the floor with her.
She coos at him and lets him cry in her arms, holding him closer to her chest. “Shh, cry all you need. You’re okay.”
His sobbing grows louder and more desperate, as if he was grief-stricken. He cries and cries, but that never deters her one bit. She gently rocks with him, hand scratching at his scalp as she whispers comforting words.
When he finally calms, she takes out a handkerchief and wipes his face clean from the tears and snot. “Do you think you can eat, honey?”
He weakly nods, sniffling.
She easily lifts him up back onto the chair, pushing the bowl closer to him, and he finally takes a spoonful of soup into his mouth. He forgot how starved he was and ate up eagerly. It takes another two bowls before he’s satisfied.
He gets led back to the bedroom he was originally in, and she has him sit on the bed. “Get some sleep, okay? Don’t worry about anything, I want you to rest.”
He carefully lays down on the bed, doing what he’s told. The mattress is large and surprisingly soft, so he easily gets under the blankets. He wished the blanket was heavier, but he knows not to ask for anything.
The woman smooths his hair back with a smile. “If you ever need anything, I’m here. Feel free to come get me or call out when you want to talk, okay?”
He watches her leave the room afterward, exhaustion setting deep into his bones. Eyes growing heavy, he finally decides he wants to rest.
Hot. He’s burning. His skin is overly sensitive, and the drag of fabric along his skin is borderline painful. He tries to wake up, but can’t force his eyes open.
A muffled voice reaches his ears before he can panic. “You have a fever, dear. I will take care of you. And sweethearts, stay away from him. I don’t want you getting sick.”
”Yes, Mama.”
He’s in and out of consciousness constantly; sometimes hearing muffled voices, sometimes falling into a dreamless, uncomfortable sleep.
Sometimes he cries when woken up, part of him hoping he never wakes at all. But she wants him to drink water, so he will obediently. Maybe then, she’ll let him stay here. He’ll be good.
He promises to be good.
Please let him stay.
When he feels himself start to get better, he finds himself gathered in her arms as she gently hums a tune for him. He chastises himself internally when he feels the sting of tears in his eyes; is he so pathetic that he would cry over being comforted? Being loved so dearly?
“Darling, I can’t let you go back out into the storm. It’s too dangerous. Stay here.” She murmurs, thumbing his bony shoulder. “I’ll keep you well fed. I have more than enough to feed another mouth.”
He nods a little too frantically, hand crumpling the sleeve of her dress.
“Good. Let me go get something for you, okay?”
He reluctantly lets her go and patiently waits as she walks away. The rain hasn’t let up at all, still beating on the windows harshly as the cold tries to seep into the room.
The floorboards creak with her return, holding a blue shirt and brown trousers. “I made you some clothes. I noticed you only had one pair with you, so I made you another.”
She puts it in his hands as he looks it over, and he runs his fingers over the material.
It’s soft. Softer than anything he was ever given.
”Try it on whenever you’d like. Would you like some lunch? I’m making some steak and eggs.”
He nods a little, and she smiles as she leads him to the kitchen once again. Cal and Lia are already there, and super excited about his presence.
“I’m glad you’re feeling better! Did you like the blanket? It was one of my favorites when I was small!” Lia exclaims happily.
She doesn’t seem deterred at all by his lack of response.
“It’s the best one!”
“I like that one too. Is it still soft?” Cal asks, looking up at him. When he nods, Cal smiles more, and he idly notices the small boy is missing a missing tooth.
”Settle down children, the steaks are almost ready. Ah, how do you like your eggs darling?”
He stares at her with a confused look, and she gives a small frown as she tries to think of an example that he would understand.
“Me and Cal like ours scrambled! Mom, maybe he’ll like scrambled??”
“That’s the safe option, I suppose,” She giggles, going to a different pan where the eggs are being cooked. “I enjoy sunny side up. It's where you only cook the underside and leave the yolk on top untouched.”
He remembers a visual he saw in a picture book. Is that sunny side up?
”Ah, I suppose I should ask this question. What would you like to be called for now? Sweetheart? Darling?” She asks, looking back at him.
These nicknames are something he’s not used to. The people who ran that hellhole he stayed in usually called him ‘boy’ with such disdain he could crumble onto the floor. They stopped at nothing to make sure he felt like disappearing. That he was a disappointment to them; but that place was all he had.
Maybe this place is different, and he can be cherished. This woman never once made him feel like he was a burden, even when he thought himself to be.
Maybe he can be safe here.
Maybe he can be loved.
“Rolan.” He finally responds to her.
She looks at him with wide eyes before the brightest smile appears on her face, warm as the sunrise.
Lia squeals as she quickly stands on her chair. “Mom! He talked!”
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vicious - v.e. schwab sentence starters change tenses/pronouns as needed !! some lines have been edited for clarity / length / ease of roleplaying tw : death , murder , suicide , religious idealization , language , mental health
‘vandalizing school property again?’
everything stars with belief. with faith.’
‘fine, yeah, it’s stupid, right? you caught me.’
‘I don’t think you’re a bad person.’
‘it’s all a matter of perspective.’
‘did you know that when you take away a person’s fear of pain, you take away their fear of death? you make them, in their own eyes, immortal.’
‘someone tried to kill me.’
‘why would someone try to kill you?’
‘you asked me if I ever wanted to believe in something. I do. I want to believe in this.’
‘I want to believe that there’s more. that we could be more.’
‘nothing you ever do, (name), is meant to be theoretical. I see it in you.’
‘I think you’ve had enough.’
‘i’ll go first.’
‘actually, I’m feeling fine. better than. I feel wonderful. I feel like roses and sunshine and glitter.’
‘you need to live through this. you need to.’
‘my hero. now fuck off.’
‘you can’t do this alone. so promise me you won’t.’
‘have you lost your mind?’
‘we can get you help.’
‘this is crazy. you’re crazy.’
‘I want you to know that I will never, ever forgive you for this.’
‘did you love her? or are you just mad I took something back?’
‘I didn’t rat you out, you know. I could have.’
‘I don’t know who you are but you’re not (name). you’re something that’s crawled in his skin. a devil wearing him.’
‘something’s wrong, missing, gone. can’t you feel it? I can.’
‘admit it, you feel different, too. death takes something with it. what did it take from you?’
‘no one is going to hurt you, you know why? because I’ll hurt them first.’
‘would that be so bad? to create something extraordinary?’
‘all these roads lead to ruin.’
‘I died begging for the strength to survive and it was granted. but it’s a trade.’
‘it’s a trade, with god or the devil, and I’ve paid for my gift with the lives of my friends.’
‘i’m dangerous. I shouldn’t exist. but what gives you the right to kill me?’
‘everything about you is chock full of self - loathing. i’m not judging. I know the feeling.’
‘you know, maybe I should let you kill me.’
‘you’re right. even though we come back, something stays dead. lost. we forget something of who we are.’
‘it’s scary and wonderful and monstrous.’
‘you’re the hero … of your own story.’
‘what gives you the right to play judge and jury and executioner?’
‘want me to kiss it? will that make it better?’
‘I know you. I see you.’
‘I don’t want to be forgotten,’
‘tell you what. you remember me, and I’ll remember you, and that way we won’t be forgotten.’
‘that’s shit logic.’
‘you make cheating death sound so simple.’
‘being afraid and being unwilling are two different things.’
‘I don’t think you want to die.’
‘the world resists, when you break its rules.’
‘I see you’re still alive then. good choice.’
‘if u didn’t know better, i’d think you care.’
‘you think I’m wrong somehow. broken.’
‘I think we’re all broken.’
‘you can’t fix the dead, (name). and besides, it’s not your place to try.’
‘it’s not your place to control people’s lives.’
‘who taught you to sing so loud? the (name) I knew could barely chirp.’
‘I need you to be brave. I need you to be strong.’
‘there are worse ways to die. and worse things to do than die.’
‘I promise I’ll make it quick.’
‘there was a monster in there, long before you died.’
#rp sentence starters#rp prompts#rp memes#literature prompts#literature sentence starters#vicious sentence starters#vicious prompts#v.e. schwab prompts#v.e. schwab sentence starters
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Time ~ VV
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A/N: 18+ fanfic!!! MDNI!!! First smut fic so I'm sorry for the horrible plot and positioning lol
Warnings: degradation, slight choking, biting
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You sat in bed, waiting for Ville to come like he was supposed to hours ago. He told you he’d be home at midnight after going out with friends, celebrating the end of their tour. You looked at the ticking black clock that hung in your bedroom, the clock read 4:00 am. You grumbled on your side of the bed as you continued to read under candle lights.
After a while, you kept reading the same line in the Edgar Allen Poe book that Ville bought you ages ago. You blow out all the candles and crawled into the velvet sheets of the bed, tossing and turning at the thought of Ville. You decided to go to bed, angry that Ville hasn’t called or messaged you to say he’d stay out later. Just one text to let you know he’s okay and that he’s thinking of you.
You heard the door unlock and you heard a loud groan from a familiar sounding man. You heard the man stumble in the kitchen, shoes being tripped over, and then you heard the laugh of the person you know and love. Ville was finally home and he sounded tipsy. His clumsiness in the kitchen and living room made you more awake than before.
He finally climbed into bed with you after a minute of getting comfortable at home. You could smell the cigarettes and beer on his lips and skin, pissing you off even more. Your left eye twitched with annoyance. You wanted to give him a piece of your mind at the moment.
He slithered a hand on your hip and whispered in your ear, “Sweetheart, did you miss me?” A kiss then being planted on your neck.
You swatted his hand off of you and scooted closer to the edge of your side of the bed. He looked at you for a good minute with confusion. He sighed and laid on his back, looking at the ceiling.
“Did I do something wrong?”, he whispered again, this time with worry in his voice.
“I don’t know, Ville. It would’ve been nice for a text or call. It would’ve been nice to have you home. Your friends missed you but I missed you too.”, you spat. You rolled your eyes despite him not being able to see you in the dark.
He turned on the lamp on his nightstand and looked at you, his elbow propping himself up. “Darling, it was just a party. I’m back home, I’m here with you now.”, he attempted to soothe you.
“Ville, you do this more times than you think. I’m patient but not this patient. I feel like I’m second compared to your friends and parties. I can wait until you come home from tours because that’s work but I swear you and your friends have a much better relationship than we do.”, you turned to him to argue.
“Hun, I always come back to you. You’re not second, you’re always first. I’m just trying to balance personal life and work. What else do you want me to do?”, his voice sounding stressed and annoyed as he asked the question.
“I want you to actually spend time with me when you come home. Let’s go out for once in a while, watch a movie inside or something. All you do is party nowadays!”, you toss your hands in the air as you get up.
“Oh my fucking gods, sorry that I’m constantly busy for months on end and get no sleep on tour. Gods forbid I try to have any fucking fun.”, he yells at he gets up.
“Oh, you’re busy? You play for a hour or two and then get shit-faced until the next show! I take care of this fucking apartment while you’re gone! I’m the only one cleaning this place thanks to you. I still work while taking care of it, I take care of everything. And I’m doing this alone! You couldn’t handle what I do!”, your voice raises as you get up as well.
You both continue to argue and fight about the situation. A few low blows are made and grunts and sighs are exchanged. The both of your faces are close and angry. You can feel his heavy breathing on your nose as he tries not to lash out. You’re trying not to say something you’ll regret but want to get your point across. His eyes are cold and stern as yours are more upset and frustrated.
“You’re being such a bitch right now. I get to come home to your little temper tantrum, I love it here.”, his voice becoming sarcastic and degrading. His mind is sober and clear, the anger diminishing the liquor in his body.
“Then fucking leave, asshole. Pack up your shit and go find a skank to shack up with.”, you yell at him.
“Oh, you think I’m easy? That’s too fucking funny. Try paying for the apartment with your lousy piece of shit job.”, his voice deep and husky as he tilts his head close to your face.
“Fuck you, Ville.”, you say through gritted teeth.
You felt like exploding with adrenaline and anger. Your heart raced as you stood your ground against him, his tall figure looming over you. The blood in your veins boil at his stupid remarks and sarcastic comments. Why did you ever date someone so stubborn and immature like him?
“You already have and apparently any other girl can too according to you.”, he squint his eyes as he looks you up and down for a quick moment. He looks at you for the faintest reaction.
Your adrenaline gets higher. Yet you didn’t want him to win this argument and fight. You truly were annoyed with his recent actions and decisions. You wanted him to grow up and take this relationship more serious but you couldn’t think of anything to say back. You leave the bedroom to go into the living room, trying to calm down. He follows you to proceed the fighting.
“Oh, now, you don’t have anything else to complain about? You just want to pick a fight with me for no reason? Speak. The. Fuck. Up. You’re being a pyscho bitch.”, his voice getting more aggressive with every word that leaves his lips.
He's trying he hardest not to punch a wall or break anything in the house. He knows how he gets when he’s angry like this and can’t express himself in words.
“I’m the pyscho bitch? I just want to spend time with you. Is that so hard to ask for? You clearly can’t get that through your thick fucking skull! I don’t care what we do. Just be with me. You don’t even make love to me anymore. You don’t fucking want me!”, you lash out with tears in your eyes. The anger getting to you and overwhelming your emotions.
Before you can even close your mouth, Ville kisses you. His big hands grabbing your hips and caressing them with his thumbs. The kiss is aggressive and hungry. His touch is rough and irrational. You kiss him back and wrap your arms around him, running a hand through his wavy hair rapidly. He pats your butt for you to jump and wrap your legs around his waist. You caught the hint and did it, he carried you to the bedroom, still kissing you with full intensity.
You both make it to the bedroom and he pushed you down to the bed, grabbing your wrists as he kissed you harshly. His lips travel to your cheek, jawline and neck in hunger. A string of whimpers and sighs spill from your lips as the sensation of his lips on your body get you hot and bothered.
“Is that all you wanted? You just wanted me to fuck you? You’re such a slut.”, he degrades you before he bites at your soft skin.
You let out sighs of pleasure, becoming a little louder with his words. He had you pinned and you craved to touch him, anything would suffice.
His tongue slides across the crevice of your neck to then leave hickeys littering all over your neck. He gets close to your cleavage before rushing to get your shirt off. Your bra was in the way of getting to see his favorite thing about you, he unclasped it with one hand. His other hand now holding both of your wrists.
“Such a pathetic pretty whore.”, he whispers before he kisses your breasts, leaving bites along the way.
He bites, licks and kissed all of your sensitive spots, leaving you a mess. You could only think of your anger towards him and the overwhelming feeling of lust. He lets go of your wrists to touch your body in any way he pleased. You watched and bit your bottom lip before you place your hands on your pajama pants, attempting to pull them down and off.
He smacks your hand away and grabs your face with his hand, making eye contact with your eager face. “I’ll get to it when I get to it. You don’t get to throw a fit and then lead me.”, his voice is husky and demanding.
You nod and let him touch you even more. He grinded his evident erection against your clothed pussy. You laid there, letting him control you and your every action. You were desperate to touch him but knew he wouldn’t let you. You felt like you were begging him through your gasps.
A few more moments passed of him attacking your skin, marking what was his. His hand that held your wrists now on the other side of your speckled neck. He pulled down your pants and panties, exposing your whole body to him. He wasn’t on top of you anymore but leaning towards the side.
He slides his rough and big hands across your body, finally reaching your folds where he plays with you gently. His touch is different to his hunger driven kisses and it causes some mixed signals. Was he still mad or did this calm him down?
To test the question, you put your hands on the back of his head, your fingers running through his hair. He lets you and continues to rub your clit, teasing one of his fingers at your entrance. The slightest touch giving you some mental praise.
Testing the waters even more, you run your fingers down his body, stopping at the low waistband of his pants. He bucks his hips towards your hands, gesturing for you to touch him.
You put your hand into his pants and brush your fingertips along the length of his cock. You keep touching him but only gently, scared he might shrug you off or swat your hand away again.
This time he grabbed your hand and led it to touch him more. You wrapped your hand around his cock and stroked him until he was moaning with every kiss, bite and hickey.
He stopped touching you for a moment to pull down his pants and boxers, freeing his constricted cock. His cock pressed against your folds and clit, grinding against you as he continues to kiss and mark you as his. With every roll of his hips, a jolt of pleasure gets sent through your body, filling the room with whines.
“I fucking need you right now.”, he groaned as grinds against you for one last time.
Your breath and voice hitched before you nodded rapidly. You wanted every part of him to touch and love you. You were begging at this point with your lust-craved eyes and parted lips. He chuckles before kissing your lips gently.
He leaned closer before grabbing his cock in his hands, stroking himself in the process. His deep groans filling your ears, you wished you could have a recording of his pleasurable voice to remember how he sounds. His voice was vulnerable in these private times.
You feel like you were daydreaming with each noise from his thin lips. Your empty weeps and gasps echoed in his ears.
He angled himself to slowly slide himself in you. You were losing focus of him as he eased himself to a steady pace. Your eyes couldn’t lock with his as you turned to moan in the grasped sheets. His hand was placed on your throat, holding you head in place to look at him.
“You were so desperate to get fucked and now you don’t even have the decency to look at me”, he degraded you through his teeth.
Your eyes locked with him and he began smirking before speeding up. Chuckles slipped from his lips as he saw your pathetic expressions.
His thumb slid across your neck as he slowly eased off the pressure. Your hands landed on his lower back, feeling his hips buck to his quickened movements.
The room was full of moans and the sound of his hips impacting yours. The slight creaks of the bed rustled against the wall. He tried to conceal his moans and groans as best as he could. Every noise made him smile and smirk more before getting lost in lip biting.
His hands landed on your hips to stabilize himself and you. His fingernails digging cresent shapes into your delicate skin. His wavy hair draping over his face as beads of sweat form on his forehead.
His movements slow down as his grasp loosens on your hips. He leans down for a kiss, your lips automatically locking with his. His elbows fell right above your shoulders, propping himself better.
His rough and aggressive kissing mixed with your longing and desperate manners created frantic touching. His hands roamed all over you, your hips, tits, stomach, and ass.
Every time his fingertips glided around your skin, he wanted nothing more to continue to ruin you. To ruin the soft skin he loved so much and to leave you remembering who you belong to.
His hips moved again but at a slow pace. His body positioned right over you as your stomachs pressed together.
His head is in between your neck and shoulder as he keeps plowing into you. He starts to bite on your shoulder to hold in his own grunts and moans but to also mark you even more.
You scratch at his back as he becomes more rough and aggressive. He’s taking out all his anger, frustration and stress out on you. You won in this scenario, having him listen to your frustrations and him fucking you into oblivion.
You already felt your body heating up as he fucked you, almost unraveling underneath him. You moan louder from the sensation and dig your nails in his inked back.
“Baby… please, I’m close. Don’t stop, please.”, you whine out in a begging manner.
He lifts his head to look at you and smirks. He completely stops, a small chuckle leaving his lips before he starts to pant. You look at him and whimper, losing the feeling of your orgasm.
“I think I will stop. You don’t deserve to cum after your little outburst.”, he snickers as he starts to move again.
He give you painfully slow and long strokes before he puts one of your legs on his shoulder. He was hitting everything the right way but it wasn’t enough to cum. He kept everything paced out to keep denying you of climaxing. Whines and whimpers keep leaving your lips, your breath keeps hitching as you hear him groan in a almost silent volume.
“Look at you. Whining like a little bitch. You need more?”, his voice was mocking as he cooed in your ear.
You could only nod repeatedly, giving the gesture of wanting more. You would do anything for him just to let you cum this one time. He gave a shit eating grin when he saw you nod and give a begging expression. He would give up the world for your messy and pleading self.
His slow strokes started to become a tad bit faster as he was losing himself inside you. He couldn’t help it, you just felt too good. He was trying to chase his own high but he wanted you to feel good too. He was going to give up. He shook his head and sighed.
“Tell me what you want. Say please and I’ll let you cum.”, he breathed out through his strokes.
“Ville, you fucking tease. Let me cum, please, Ville…”, your voice was shaking and started to mumble.
He let out a small chuckles before leaning down to kiss your neck. “Good girl. Stay just like that.”, he moaned as he picked up the pace.
He lifted your other leg on his shoulder as he began to hit those deep spots. He wanted you to feel all of him and all that he can give you. His body was still close to yours, leaving hickeys on your soft skin as he spread your legs.
Your denied orgasm came back and you unfolded beneath Ville. Your muscles tensing up as a series of moans and whines leave your puffy lips. Ville gave you a few more thrusts before finding his own climax.
His shoulders dropped as he rode out your high. His lips parted as sweat trailed down his face. Your legs slid off his shoulders but your bodies were still intertwined. You couldn’t look at him for a solid minutes, attempting to compose yourself. He smiled at you and leaned down to kiss your cheek.
Ville looked at your sweating and glistening body once more before he went into the master bedroom’s bathroom and grabbed something to clean you up with. He was careful and gentle, massaging your thighs as he cleaned you.
You giggled and panted as he provided you care. He was soft and loving now, despite his previous hatred filled actions.
“You sure you’re okay? That was a lot even for me. You did so good though.”, he praised you before he went into the bathroom to run a bath for the both of you. The water ran as he came back.
“I’m sorry for what I said.”, you looked at him with worry, worried you offended him earlier.
He chuckles before he pressed his fingertips firmly on all of your hickeys and bite marks. You winced in slight pain and soreness. “That’s for you to remember who you’re talking to.”, he looked at you with a smile before dragging you into the bathroom with him to bathe.
“You know I love you and hate you right.”, he whispered as he helped you into the bathtub and joined you. You smiled at him as you began to hold his hand.
“Maybe you’d hate me less and love me more if you came home on time.”, you smirked at him, repeating the same argument from earlier that started this all. You just wanted to get a rise out of him.
“Sweetheart, I’m not doing this again.”, he rolled his eyes at you.
“I love and hate you too.”, you leaned towards him and gave him a soft kiss on his small lips.
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